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Chapter Text

The winter had come, harsh and icy in a way that had been promised. A little over 6 years in the wooden cabin with the 2 elder sisters and their father, our father. Learning how to hunt the first year ,learning how to survive the world I had read about in the years following. 

           Read , it was a strange concept now to have read this world now that it was the reality of every breath I drew. Nesta, Elain, and their father were all people that now lived and breathed in a space more than ink on paper, real as the damned snow that was working its way under my coat as I headed out toward the woods, where the promise of fae and the start of my consequences awaited me. 

Dawn had just broken when I left, and the two other girls were likely still asleep in bed, they had grumbled at me as I disentangled myself from the cluster of limbs on that old ironwood bed. The sky was streaked with oranges and purples as I made my way past the thick pine trees that held fresh powder. My stomach growled as I remembered the last parts of the bread I had given to Elain last night, hoping my last night in that cabin with all of them was coming soon.

My feet kept moving forward, bow heavy in hand as I headed toward the brook I had first met Feyre at. My body, like hers was described, had become thin and sharp with bone due to the harsh winter. Minutes of walking turned into hours, the sky was now a gray-blue as I headed towards the small trickle of water that spoke to me with a promise of my home. 

I found the small clearing, the same one I had been visiting for weeks , since the first snowfall, with thin trees that still held their bark that had drawn in that young doe I had yet to see. I moved down towards the water that still flowed under a thin sheen of ice, crouching down to fill my skein before heading towards a tree I could comfortably climb into to wait for the sun to rise higher, to wait for that young deer and fae wolf.

So I climbed up one of the thick evergreens surrounding me, settling on a thick branch that hid me behind a curtain of pine needles that kept the flurries of snow from piling on my already measly winter gear. Knowing the hours would go on achingly slow, I worked on what I hoped were mental shields, plastering imaginary walls around my thoughts as mental fingers stroked the inside of the shell. When my mind wandered I looked at those falling snowflakes, glittering with the winter light before it settled onto the large piles of more fluffy snow.

I admired the snow, not in the same way that Feyre had admired those colors and depth, I had no talent with paints the way she had. My eyes followed the twisting movement of the ice, twirling its way down like a dancer before settling and blending in. The movement was traced with my eyes, light catching on the fractiles in a way that left my eyes fluttering. So I traced those falls with my eyes as I caressed the inside of my mind, mental fingers often following the same twisting path before they would move their way back toward the peak.

Hours passed like that, with the occasional shift in position as my tailbone started to ache. My mind had turned over the words I could remember of the summoning call that had originally drawn Tamlin to bring Feyre to the Spring court, trying to find a way to avoid killing the man I knew was about to cross my path. I had spent a decent amount of time with this exact thought for half a decade to find a solution to not stain my hands with Andras’ blood, but always fell short. There was no way around this murder, I had to do this to save everyone else from the hell I knew would befall Prythian if Amarantha was given supreme control over the courts. 

The sun reached high in the sky, and I started getting nervous I had the wrong day yet again. I had been sitting in this tree since the first snow had come in, catching the small game on my way into the woods and larger on my way out. I could no longer see the stream clearly and slowly moved out of the tree as my legs tingled from disuse. I moved towards a high thorn bush, keeping an arrow softly notched in my bow. Another hour or so passed like that, with me kneeling and prepared for the first innocent life on my hand.

The snow crackled as the delicate neck of a doe stretched from the densest part of the woods, trotting softly to a tree with soft bark. I double-checked I had the right arrow notched, the ash arrow resting on my finger like an iron weight as I looked back towards the doe, beyond her and into the thinning flurry of snow.

 The first glimpse of that large silver body nearly made me release the arrow right then, awed at the size and the instinctual need to run as the predator moved with a silence that he was gifted by his fae blood. He prowled toward the doe where she still ate the thin bark, unaware of her coming death. He inched closer, lithe and beautiful as he tensed- the deer’s head rose, eyes looking around her as she sensed something amiss, but she was looking away from the predator who was now less than 5 meters away from her.

He pounced, ripping at her throat as the arrow flew from my hand and found its mark in his side- right where a heart and lungs would be. I had closed my eyes the second the arrow had left the bow, already cursing at myself for being a sick bastard and praying he was already dead as I looked up, but now as I raised my head up I saw him. Blood dripped from his maw as the doe’s mangled neck fell to the snow, but those golden eyes looked at me, pained and soft with relief that wrenched at my soul as he fell into the smooth snow under him.

I rushed out of my hiding spot- tears already streaming down my face as my throat ratcheted with a sob. I fell next to him, his eyes still looking at me as I put my hand against his chest where the arrow protruded.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry Andras. Forgive me please ” I pleaded, the words mixing and coming out thickly as I sobbed. He twitched under my touch- weakly- when I said his name, a loss I had always despised when I read it. Heat bloomed in my chest, hatred towards the bitch who had set the terms of the curse to sacrifice a soul.

I looked back into his eyes, where they were half-lidded as his breathing had become labored and my hand was slick with his blood as I pet his side in the only form of comfort I could provide. He looked at my tear-streaked face and his eyes seemed to soften even further as his eyes fully closed.

“M-other hold- Pass through the gates,” as ratcheting sob left me gasping as I was determined to send Andras to that heaven promised in the prayer “and smell that immortal land of milk and honey” His chest stopped rising but I could not stop, could not leave him with a half-finished prayer- the last one he would have while he was still warm “ Fear no evil. Feel no pain”. More sobs ripped from me as my arms moved to cradle his head, nearly as large as my torso while blood seeped around us, the pure white snow with thick crimson. I held him for a long while, enough to where his fur had lost warmth and the pool of deer and fae blood started soaking into my pants.

 I was soaked in thawed snow and my hand was covered in the sticky blood, which I started to scrub off with the white snow around us. The Archeron’s were still starving at home as they awaited me to bring home dinner but I could not leave his body here to become buried in the snow and only found by the scavengers once spring came. So I stood and started to pull the corpse towards the trees, where I then collected branches from the surrounding trees with a serrated knife, piling needles sitting heavy from them as I started to arrange them around him, covering him and marking the grave so he can be found and buried in Spring court soil. 

With a long look at the corpse behind me, I returned to the clearing and hefted the doe onto my shoulders. I had to return home, dress the doe, and wait for the arrival of the blond prick of Spring.

Chapter Text

My body shook with shivers as I walked toward the cottage, back cramping as I slowly made my way up that frozen mud path. I kicked my boots against the door frame, aiming at one of the lower ward marks that had been carved into the door. It had become my form of a knock, waiting for one of the people inside to pull open the door as I was too exhausted to do anything but move one foot in front of the other while I was half frozen.

Elain was the one to fetch the door. Her soft face having gone haggard from the cold and hunger, was still bright as a small gasp left her at the sight of the doe on my back. 

“ Feyre! Where did you get that?” She gasped, earning only a grunt from me as I jutted my chin forward, to the warm light that promised a warmer fire, “Oh- come in come in”. The words were hurried as she swung the door wider, revealing a crippled man and a young woman residing within, threadbare blankets drawn around both of them as I made my way to the wooden table that sat at the center of the room.

Nesta peered at me with sharp eyes as I chucked the doe from my shoulders and onto the table, jolting awake my father who had fallen asleep with his leg stretched towards the hearth. The eldest sister only shifted forward the slightest bit to glare down at the animal, hunger making her eyes sharpen as she looked down her nose at the garish wound that had killed it. She looked back up at me and something in the way I held her stare in a beg to not discuss it now seemed to tide her over as she settled back into her chair.

“It won’t take long to clean it, will it?” Nesta said with an air of indifference that failed to cover the hungry looks of the whole family. I saw Elain grow uncomfortable with Nesta’s presumptuous question, begging Nesta with her eyes to be more courteous, but Elain didn’t object to the question either. The man who I had come to call father for simplicity's sake stared at me with empty hunger, no hiding it behind words as his lips drew tighter.

“No it won’t take long, just-” I groaned as I sat down in a chair that was drawn up to the table, “ give me a minute to warm up, I would make a mess of the meat if I tried to process it with my hands half frozen.” I finished with a heavy sigh, dropping my head down next to the deer’s flank, peeling off the soaked outer coat I had been wearing that had become crusted in snow. 

The sweater and tunic I had underneath were damp from sweat and water and felt laminated to my skin as I pulled off the layers and laid them out on the edge of the table closest to the weak flames. My top was left in a simple bra as I looked toward the wood pile, a short stack of wood present, more than had been there that morning. I let a small smile grace my lips as I remembered the original Nesta’s objections to chopping wood. She sensed me looking at the wood pile, “It would have been easier for you to chop it, I got half a dozen splinters just doing that much” she excused the lackluster stack. I gave a hum back, understanding what the admittance was the eldest sister's way to apologize for her performance, coating it to push the chore onto me. 

I threw a couple of the smaller pieces of wood into the fire, sitting down as close as I could to the fireplace, just shy of catching myself on fire. Now that I was sitting I undid my boots and winced as I peeled the soaked socks from my feet, pruned and aching. The trousers I wore were also  soaked but as I would be going back outside I kept them on as I let the heat of the fire wick away the shivers that raked up my back. Elain sat down a few feet away from me, pulling the soaked coat into her lap, fussing over a hole that had developed along the left sleeve, caused by a frustrated yank when a thorn bush caught on the forearm. She had a thick bone needle in one hand and was already threading it with white thread we had bought in the fall when I had been prosperous with my hunts.

The coat already looked like a patch work with the amount of repairs made with a multitude of colored threads. It had once been a rich brown leather jacket our father had managed to keep during the collapse of his fortune, but had become mine the first winter I spent in the woods, snuck from where it was collecting dust in a drawer. It's not like he had missed it since he never left the confines of the cottage when the weather got bad.

My back and hair had dried enough that I no longer felt like an icicle, resigning myself to go process the deer that had also started to thaw and let out a small trickle of blood from its neck. I slung the damp sweater back on, knowing it would be good enough to not freeze while I worked. I glanced at Elain and Nesta, my father still staring at the deer with vacant eyes, and they each looked at me, understanding that I was going back to work, grabbing the hunting knife that had been in the pocket of the coat that Elain was still mending with her soft hands.

I grabbed the doe’s body, half dragging it to the small front yard that held a few remnants of smooth walking stones. I sat on a stump that was used to chop wood, brushing off the snow and settling down to work, gutting and cleaning the insides skinning the deer as much as possible, rinsing the internal cavity with handfuls of snow before slicing the meat into useable pieces, reserving some for the next few days to be used fresh and the rest sectioned off to be dried.

I brought the hide in first, folded neatly by the front door to be sold. The meat was then brought in as well, handing off the sections to be eaten fresh to Elain as she would turn it into stew, the other thin sections set to hang from thin wires close enough to the fire to dry them but not close enough to burn. The large bones were brought in and handed to Elain as well, she would use the marrow to make broth that would feed them for a good while. Nesta would eventually take the bones to make needles or hairpins for Elain or to sell at the market, the small amount of money a godsend.

This family worked much better together than I had thought, my father even pitched in sometimes to carve small figurines for Nesta to take to market. I looked at the two of them still curled in their chairs near the fire. “I’m going to get changed” I said moving towards the bedroom I shared with the girls, getting a hum from Elain who was slicing the meat with a small knife. Emerging a few moments later in a thin pair of pajamas, leaving the warmer sets for the sisters. Sitting next to the fire again, I was able to let the tension in my back melt under the soft heat. 

The light sounds of Elain preparing food and having a hushed conversation lulled me half to sleep, eyes sliding shut as I let my breaths fall into a steady rhythm as my skin warmed from the flames, log crackling occasionally. The family was peaceful when I brought home a kill, and my heart panged with guilt as I knew this peace would be destroyed soon, and years of war and gore laid in front of them.

I eventually drifted off to sleep next to the hearth, dreams dark and inky and soothing as I let my mind swirl along. I was roused from my sleep what felt like moments later, my mind fuzzy with sleep as I whined. I was exhausted but the smell of venison woke my stomach with a vicious growl.

I ate with the family, my father dragging himself in his chair toward the head of the table where Elain prepared him a plate. Nesta sat next to her and I across from Nesta. They discussed what price they thought the hide would fetch at the market. My gaze drifted back towards the door, where my boots laid near in tatters and the bow stood proudly against the frame

.

“ I wish I could get a new cloak,” Elain fussed as she bit at a chunk of venison she had put on skewers. I lazily chewed at my own skewer as Nesta chided in “ I need new boots''. My eyes slid over to her pair of boots that sat next to mine, the leather nearly pristine except a few scuffs. Something ached in my chest at the selfish request, still sharing those traits with the Nesta I had first known, but now with more experience with the way Nesta operated I knew the selfish words were for the benefit of me and Elain. She would offer the old boots to me once she got a new pair, pretending she was going to get rid of her old ones. She knew I didn’t like new things when her or Elain were still dressed in rags.

The man of the house was quiet for the majority of the conversation, only quiping in on what price he thought the hide would earn, to which Nesta pointedly ignored him. Despite my efforts in the first years I was here, Nesta still despised the man and his lack of willingness to work after his knee had been crippled. Nesta went to grab a second plate of skewers, and I allowed her despite the voice inside me that had developed since I had first taken up the bow to hunt yelling at me to make the meat last longer.

With our bellies full, Elain helped our father to his cot by the fire and laid him to bed before joining me and Nesta in our room, Nesta also changed into pajamas as we sat on the bed, leaving the middle space for Elain. Once Elain changed into the warmest set of pajamas that me and Nesta had both left untouched, she crawled into bed, where we then curled around each other, keeping our limbs warm in our shared body heat. I faded off to sleep knowing it would be my last night in this bed.

Chapter Text

The next day I sat waiting in the house, twirling the pommel of a hunting knife in my fingers as my leg jumped up and down under the table. I had sent the pelt with Nesta into town, knowing she would catch a fair price even with the cheap skates that frequented the market. Elain had gone with her, intent on browsing the wares. So that left me, sitting next to my father who stared at me with a pinched expression. I had found a piece of scrap cloth, drawing out a map of snares I had set up early in the morning with a piece of charcoal from the hearth. I knew Tamlin took care of the Archeron’s with copious amounts of riches, but I did not know how long those riches would take to be delivered and until then my family still needed to be fed.

But the map had been done hours ago and I was forced to stare at the chipped paintings of flowers and vines I had painted one summer when Elain had gotten me those 3 tins of paint, claiming she remembered how I used to love painting as a child and how the summer was so prosperous I should take time for the arts again. I had smiled, thin and pressed as I tried to restrain the tears that Elain took to be glee. I had gone into the woods that night and slept in a tree, needing time to settle my soul that was writhing in pain as my mind raced with the full and complete realization that I had taken the place of that little girl Elain was trying to comfort, that there was no one who could truly know me in in the entirety of this world.

That had been years ago though and now I had my brows knit in concentration as I contemplated how I would get back to my own world. I still had not come up with an answer for that as my father spoke to me.

“Why didn’t you go to the market with your sisters?” he asked, hand coming up to massage the creases forming between his brows. I jolted, startled by the words before answering.

“They needed a day out of the house without me breathing down their necks,” I said, sighing before letting my back slouch against the chair, “ and I did not want to go to the market, I already have a headache”. It was true, my head had started to pound the moment I was left with my thoughts. He grunted and accepted the half-truth, eyes focusing on a small piece of wood I had brought in for him that morning to carve.

My leg went back to jittering for a while before my father turned to me again and suggested I take the energy outside, it was disturbing his focus. I saw myself out, deciding to chop more wood as the stack had dwindled to twigs after a long night. The movement of the ax did ease the anxiety tightening in my gut, worried the curse hadn’t sought its claim on me as the hate in my heart had not been targeted towards that male. 

My skin itched as sweat accumulated underneath the jacket, hair prickled at the back of my neck as a cold wind caked snow into my hair. The sisters came back to the house a few hours later, the sunlight turning golden as I brought in the pieces of wood, settling them in a stack by the hearth and rekindling the fire that had fallen to smoking embers. I let Elain rest while I cooked dinner for the night, needing to move as the time drew nearer and nearer.

The family ate, Elain and Nesta chattering about some girl they had run into, and how she thought someone’s son was going to ask for her hand soon. I thought to the original story, how Tomas Mandray was to ask to marry Nesta, how I had dissuaded the possibility of that marriage through the years. I had brought up time and time again the fights I heard coming from the house while hunting, the bruises we could all see blooming on the poor woman’s cheek the next week at market. 

I let my mind wander, sitting back in the chair as I chewed on a piece of gristle that had ended up in meat. The night grew darker, the gold sky turning blush pink and violet before dark indigo took over. I was half asleep in the chair, facing the door, knife held loosely in my hand as I waited. Someone, most likely Elain, had taken my plate. My father and the sisters moved toward the fire, warming themselves as much as possible before they had to sleep through another cold night. My feet already ached with the cold as I still sat in my chair, waiting and waiting and waiting for that-

A roar shook the house as Nesta and Elain screamed, scrambling towards the far wall of the house as the door came crashing in. Puffs of white snow flooded in around the beast, gold fur already laden with ice as he growled.

I was standing now- somehow having placed myself between the High lord and the cowering girls behind me, their father slowly dragging himself in front of them as well. The three of them hid behind me, as my grip on the knife tightened. Now that I saw the fae lord I knew the blade would be no more than a thorn in his side if  I ever sunk it there, but the blade wasn’t to defend myself or my family. It was an act - a scared mortal woman trying to fight off a beast after killing his kind.

He reared, creme underbelly being revealed as his claws sliced through the air, muzzle dripping with frothy white saliva as he yelled, “MURDERERS”. I heard my father go to move, to beg the fae beast for my life, but I put out my hand to stop him, barring him from moving forward before the maw opened again to roar the accusation again.

The girls still begged, even as my father crouched next to me, peering up at me with eyes that seemed conscious for the first time since that creditor had appeared. “We didn’t kill anyone!” Nesta wailed as she shifted Elain farther behind her.

I looked the beast in his eyes, clenching my fist yet again as my palms had grown damp with sweat as I tried to calm my heart.

“WHO KILLED HIM?” he yelled again, spittle landing on my arm as I raised my hand. 

“I did”, it was a statement, no denying the life I had taken as Nesta and Elain yelled out at me, asking when I had killed a fae. I waved my hand at them, shushing them for a small time as Tamlin snarled at me again. 

“You lie to spare them”, his growl served to cover his shock and I could almost hear the hope undercutting it all.

“You can look at them and think they can take down a Faerie? Combined, they can barely take down a tree” I finished, stepping further forward, closer to those dripping jaws.

“I killed it, left its body in the woods because it would have been too heavy.” I let him mull over the words, hoping he would only see the truths that smoothed over my real reasoning.

“Did it attack you? Were you provoked?” He asked, nails digging deep gouges in the wooden floorboards.

“No, he attacked a deer that I had been about to kill- we were about to starve.” Another half-truth as his eyes darted to the dirty dishes that still held remnants of the venison, though he could surely smell it still lingering in the air. He looked back at me, green eyes locking with stormy blue ones as he growled.

“The treaty between our lands demands repayment, a life for a life. Any unprovoked attacks on faerie-kind by humans are to be paid only by a human life in exchange.” The lie would have worked if I was Feyre, it did work on her, but I would not cower in the face of a man who I knew put the weight of his court’s lives on my shoulders.

“Then let Prythian claim my life.” I said, words measured as I tried to block out the sobs coming from behind me, small whispers of ‘Feyre, no’ making my heart ache as I still stood ramrod straight in front of the beast. Those green eyes darted around my face, trying to see further into me than I was willing to bear.

“Willing to accept your fate so easily, mortal? To die at the hands of a fae?”He huffed, still peering at me. The white puff of moist air warmed my face as I peered up at him.

“I did not say I was willing to die, I said Prythian may claim me, not you” My chest was drawing tight, making the words come out strained as I tried to keep steady breaths and failed. Another hot huff of air from his muzzle heated my face a degree, and I could almost sense a hint of pride at a mortal twisting his words.

“For having the gall to twist the call of the treaty, you may stay on my lands. Live there for the rest of your mortal days and forsake the human realm”

My father spoke again, not heeding my glance and hand as he croaked out.“Please, good sir—Feyre is my youngest. I beseech you to spare her. I- She’s all we-” I shushed my father before he could continue, turning to him and grabbing his shoulders as I spoke, “I either die here or I can go- I set traps and I have a map-”. Tamlin cut me off with another roar, impatient prick.

I turned back to him as I set my shoulders, “ When do we leave?” 

“ Now” he snarled out as he turned and left into the snow. As soon as his hind legs left the door, Nesta was grabbing me by my shoulders, shaking me as she shouted into my face.

“You stupid girl! You just gave your life to that Thing ”, her words were nearly as guttural as Tamlin’s snarls as she continued, “-without you we- and you will die over there in who knows what gnarly manner-tortured and strung up to be made a spectacle.” My neck hurt from being shaken so violently as Elain wrapped herself around me, sobbing into my shoulder as she pleaded.

“I made a map of snares, you will not starve, and would you rather have had me gutted here? I can survive over the wall.” I tried to soothe their worries as my words were truth, as much as I could give them. My father had managed to use his cane to stand next to us, Nesta pulling Elain away from me, dragging both of them into the room as he moved toward us. 

I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly as I knew Nesta was trying to protect me, and as I turned to leave toward the door my father caught my arm and looked into my eyes.

“Live, on the other side of the wall. If anyone can, it would be you Feyre. You’ve-” A snarl from outside cut him off as I drew him into a hug, the first hug I had ever shared with the man. 

“Goodbye, the map is in my drawer in the bedroom, talk to old Jacob up the road, he will show you how to reset them” I left for the door, grabbing the patchworked jacket before -

“You were always too good for here, Feyre. Too good for us, too good for everyone.” He called out again, leaning against the wall that connected to the room the sisters were cowering in. “If you ever escape, ever convince them that you’ve paid the debt, don’t return.” I smiled meekly as I stepped into the snow, patting the door frame as I left.

Tamlin stood outside, looking toward the woods before snapping his head toward me when the first bit of snow crunched under my raggedy boots. He started towards those woods I had used to stay alive and train for this day. I rushed to follow as his long legs made his leisurely pace a small jog for me. White puffs of air left my nose every time I exhaled.

I nearly tripped over a few sticks as we went further and further into those dark woods. Several minutes passed where my feet grew numb before the shining white coat of a mare appeared beside a tree.

She lowered her neck, long and corded with muscle as he motioned for me to get into the saddle. I had never ridden a horse, though I had seen many people in town using them to pull carriages or to travel back to their homes. I grabbed the saddle and tried to haul myself up, foot catching on the stirrup as I struggled. It was a long minute that left me flushed with embarrassment before I was able to throw over my other leg, panting as I finally sat in the saddle.

The mare set into a steady trot, following Tamlin through the dark forest. Her body radiated heat that warmed my legs, and I savored it as I leaned down to brush her side. The night grew deeper as I kept the position, soaking in the heat as snow collected on my hair and back. Every few minutes I would check to make sure I could still see those spiraling antlers and gold pelt, just to make sure I was not dreaming as I pinched my leg every time I saw the huffs of breaths as we went further and further into the woods, toward the wall.

“What’s your name?” I called out to him, it would be complicated to explain if I said his name without him ever telling it to me. A low growl shook some light snow from its place upon the branches.

“What does it matter to you, girl?” He didn’t even look back over his shoulder as he let out another growl, conversation clearly over. I went to ask another question, but the ringing taste of metal filled my mouth and I couldn’t resist the pull towards a dark sleep.

Chapter Text

I woke slowly, groggy with sleep like I had been sedated for a surgery as I tried to nestle my way farther into the mane of the mare underneath me. My back was warmed by the soft sunlight and a warm wind brushed against my face as I twisted away from the sunlight that had angled straight into my peeped-open eyes. I pulled my head from the soft hair of the mare to squint at the expanse of bright green grass. A bird sang somewhere to my right, a song that did not belong to the long nights of winter but the fresh mornings of spring. 

Though I had been prepared for the extravagance, I was struck with the full force of the inherent beauty of the fae lands as a large gate swung open on silent hinges. The ivory building was draped in vines and bordered with immaculate rose bushes. The sight of the balconies, ivy spilling from between the railings like water spilling between fingers tore the breath from my chest. I was to live here until I got myself killed under the mountain. 

Tamlin didn’t pay any attention to my awe as he leaped up the stairs, continuing into the manor. The mare stopped at the foot of those stairs and I clumsily slid off of her, nearly falling to the ground when I eventually made it to the gravel. I hurried up the stairs, making it just past the open doors, feet sliding over the checkered marble as I looked around, confused where such a large beast could have disappeared to in the few moments I had lagged behind. A growl from a room to my left answered my confusion just as I was about to open my mouth to call out.

The doors swung wider as I stepped towards them, keeping my feet steady as I entered into the room. The wafting scent of spiced meats licked at my nose as I curved to the right, to see the large windows that flooded the room with shimmering light. The light fell upon the table, covered in food and drink; and the High lord that had appeared with a white flash, sitting in his chair at the head of the table. I jumped back, startled by the speed of magic as a gold-haired male with broad shoulders sat slowly in the chair at the head of the table. My eyes caught on the gold mask that had appeared on his face. Magic welding it to his skin, a thought that made my own face start to itch. The emeralds set along the gold glittered, matching his eyes as he stared at me.

“You should eat,” he said as he motioned to the table with a limp hand. The motion and the way he spoke nearly had me believing he was nervous. I still stood by the wall, nearly tucked into the corner, as my mouth watered at the food, full of fat and seasonings I hadn’t had access to since I started living in the cottage. Tamlin seemed half defeated at seeing my stillness, taking a long drink from a wine glass that had appeared out of nothing. The wine glass didn’t seem to drain even as he tilted it farther back. 

He looked back up at me as he took a reprieve from the wine, tilting his cup towards me, and offering the red wine. I shook my head, “Your wine doesn’t agree with humans” I said, and he looked at his glass inquisitively, as though he had forgotten that fact and blamed the wine for it. He set the glass down, and crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the table with a glare, which I could barely discern by the hard set of his jaw and the way his eyes grew darker behind the mask.

Steps sounded down the hall and I fought the urge to move toward the door to peer around it. They drew nearer until a red-headed fae male was walking through the room - toward Tamlin. A shallow bow and then “Well?”

Tamlin looked up from his engaging staring contest with a pile of grapes, “Well what?” 

Lucien huffed, “Is Andras dead, then?”. A small nod, Tamlin’s posture softening before a whispered “I’m sorry.” Lucien’s arms crossed and I saw the heaving breath in his shoulders as he still was solely focused on Tamlin.

“How?” The word was bitter and full of accusation.

“An ash arrow,” said the Highlord. Lucien hissed, knuckles turning white as he gripped at his bicep. “The Treaty’s summons led me to the mortal. I gave her safe haven.”

 “A girl-”, I couldn't tell if the word was that of disbelief, betrayal, or both,“-a mortal girl actually killed Andras.” Not a question, it was a pure emotion I could not distinguish as his eyes landed on the empty chair - my chair- “And the summons found the girl responsible.”

Tamlin nodded his head toward me “ The Treaty’s magic brought me to her doorstep.” The words hadn’t even finished falling from Tamlin’s lips as Lucien spun around, red hair fanning behind him and the copper fox mask on his face whipped to me like a true predator. A long jagged scar ran down his cheek, to the sharp jaw that was clenched in fury, drawing my eye to the carved golden eye that zeroed in on me.

Even from across the room, I could see his remaining russet eye widen. He sniffed once, his lips curling a bit to reveal glistening white teeth. “You’re joking,” he said quietly. “That scrawny thing brought down Andras with a single ash arrow?” I felt sick, eyes growing heavy with tears as I tried to resist sniffling at the memory.

 “She admitted to it,” the High Lord one said, tracing the rim of his wine glass with a finger. His jaw clenched as a long, cyclical claw traced around the rim of the glass, causing it to whine out, “She didn’t try to deny it.”

Lucien slowly lowered himself to sit on the edge of the table, that gold eyes spinning as it looked at me now .“Well,” Lucien’s voice felt like a serrated blade dragging along my heart as he spoke, “now we’re stuck with that, thanks to your useless mercy, and you’ve ruined—” I tried to mold myself into the wall as I took a step backward, away from the man I had most hoped to be my ally while in the Spring Court. 

“Did you enjoy killing my friend, human?” He said, and I knew there was more he was going to say, more words that were driving pins into my heart. So I interrupted, a small, quiet word, the first way I could start apologizing for my transgressions.

“No”. It was just barely a whisper, a syllable carried out on a thin breath, and if they had been anything other than high fae with those pointed ears it would have gone unnoticed. Both of their faces tightened, one in half-hearted pity and the other in skepticism at my words. I felt like I was burning under their stares and the threatening pressure of tears started to lessen, tears now hanging heavily on my lashes, not yet fallen.

Lucien broke his stare with my face, looking back to Tamlin, “Perhaps there’s a way t-” 

“Lucien” a low growl, from the blonde fae who still had not removed that claw from the delicate glass, “Behave yourself”

Lucien went rigid, but he hopped off the edge of the table and bowed deeply to me. “My apologies, lady.” A joke when I knew I looked more like a beggar than a woman. “I’m Lucien. Courtier and emissary.” He gestured to me with a flourish. “Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold.”

It gave me a small chuckle, thick with unshed tears and congestion that had been forming since I took my first breath of pollen-laden air. He looked up at me expectantly, prompting me for my name I supposed. But before I could sketch a horrible curtsy back to him and introduce myself Tamlin interrupted.

“Feyre, Her name is Feyre” He seemed irritated, more so than I had seen him so far. He jerked his head to the open doors, where a stout woman was standing. A simple spun dress covered in a white smock complimented the simple bird mask that covered her brow and upper cheeks, no jewels adorning it like the other two. “Alis will take you to your room. You could use new clothes and a bath”

The words were insulting but not unfair, I did smell rancid and the clothes I was wearing were nearly in tatters already, all except the jacket that was still snug around my shoulder. I had started to sweat in the thing the moment I woke up but was much more focused on this first interaction with the fae world. Alis had moved though, grasping my arm in firm hands as she guided me outside of the dining room. 

A few meters into the hall I heard Lucien hiss out “That’s the hand the Cauldron thought to deal us? She brought Andras down? We never should have sent him out there—none of them should have been out there. It was a fool’s mission.” His growl was more bitter than threatening, and I swore I could hear the faintest falter in his voice as he continued, “Maybe we should just take a stand—maybe it’s time to say enough. Dump the girl somewhere, kill her, I don’t care—she’s nothing but a burden here. She is weak, she looks like a small wind could tip her over, much less dealing with her ” 

“No,” The high lord's voice had risen enough that Alis hurried our steps, despite my attempts to slow her “Not until we know for certain that there is no other way will we make a move. And as for the girl, she stays. Unharmed. End of discussion. Her life in that hovel was hell enough.”

I tried to stave off the pride that made me want to go back there and tell him otherwise, that that cottage had been my shelter and safety as I adjusted to this world. I wanted to hear more of their conversation, it was about me so I felt justified in my eavesdropping, but Alis was practically dragging me down a dark hallway. 

“Then you’ve got your work cut out for you, old son,” Lucien said. “I’m sure her life will be a fine replacement for Andras’s—maybe she can even train with the others on the border.” I smiled wryly at the comment, barely heard, before Alis pulled me harshly enough my feet stumbled, causing me to have to scramble to stay upright. 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

I laid in the bath, skin red from the scrubbing two servant girls had given with pumice stones. I had tried to fight them off, Alis staring disapproving from the doorway as I tried to take the rag from one of the girls myself, unwilling to make the poor girl wipe away the mud, soot, and traces of blood that had made my skin appear gray. I hadn’t won, obviously, fae strength overpowering me easily while I was half starved.

Speaking of which, my stomach growled so loudly I swore I saw the vibration across the water's surface as I tried to savor the floral bubbles that still floated on the top of the water. I pulled myself from the water, hunger pushing me to go seek some chicken legs I had seen on the table. I really wished I had grabbed at least some food before being dragged away.

My hair dripped onto the floor as I tried looking for a towel, but came up short, instead grabbing the fluffy robe I found folded in a basket next to the door. With it tied around me, I slowly eased open the door. Alis stood at the foot of the four-poster bed that stood in the middle of the far wall, her hands were holding a bright turquoise dress. I exited the bathroom, trying to be quiet but Alis turned to me, laying the dress on the bed gently.

“Your clothes are on the be-” she had started but I interrupted, my words blurting out. “I am not wearing a dress,” I said, her eyes hardened with what I assumed was annoyance.

“Please? Can I just get a shirt and trousers? Nothing complicated, I just want pants, please.” I had whined out that last please, trying to convince her to get me the simple clothing. She was quiet for a moment before turning and leaving the room, and I collapsed into a high-backed seat, hoping I hadn’t offended the woman. 

Just when I thought all hope was lost she returned, trousers and tunic in hand. I smiled as sweetly as I could, genuine relief in it as I thanked her, gently grabbing the clothes from her before scurrying back into the bathroom. I swore I heard a small laugh come from the room when the bathroom door was fully closed.

I looked at myself in the mirror, fully dressed. Lucien had been right, I had kept the coloring of Feyre but my face- it was mine in the way my eyebrows curved, in the slope of my lips, and the light glinting off my cheekbones. I tore my vision from the mirror and tried to smooth out the dark blue fabric that now covered my torso, the fabric stiff and itchy in its stitching as my skin was only just spared by the white shirt underneath. 

My hair still hung limp, half damp as it had drip-dried during the time it took me to change. I grabbed the uneven hair and forced it to become a simple thick braid down the center of my back. There were awkward pieces of hair that stuck out, either broken off due to a branch while hunting or accidentally slicked chunks by my face where an arrow release had been too close to my face, often cutting my cheek as well.

When I exited the bathroom, braid held in my hand as I intended to ask for a hair tie, Alis tutted. She disregarded my attempts to keep my hair in my hand as she guided me to a low-back chair that sat in front of the empty fireplace. She combed the knots I had missed free from the hair before she cut the uneven ends, unable to fix the pieces cut at my face level, she tried her best to even them out. I doubted it fixed much of anything as she rebraided it, tying it off with a pretty curl of navy blue ribbon to match the tunic. I had tried to protest but when she had asked me to let her make one thing about me pretty I caved.

She tucked one of those short pieces of hair from in front of my face behind an ear before she spoke. “Don’t feel bad for what happened to Andras. He was a good sentinel, and he knew what he would face when he crossed the wall—knew he’d find trouble. Everyone else understands the terms of the Treaty as well, but they will likely still hate you for it, he was their friend.” I tried to restrain a cringe at the past tense, “Just stay out of their way and trouble probably won’t find you, girl, though Lucien can always use someone to snap back at him” her final words were tinged in a laugh as she stood back.

I smiled up at her as I twisted in the chair, losing a tense breath as she made her way to the door. I was unable to explain that their lies about the treaty were unnecessary for me but- but I needed to keep playing the part. A mortal woman should not come into the fae realm and start spouting off how she knew their histories and their futures, it would most definitely get me thrown into a dungeon or tortured for all the information I know. I stood to follow Alis as she led me into the hall, toward that dining room full of foods and fae males.

Chapter Text

I was devouring as much of that rich food as I could get my hands on, piling the fine porcelain plate high with steaming slices of bread and meats as I caught a pitcher of what I hoped was water. The two other people in the room were sitting at the other end of the table exchanging a weighted look before turning back to me.

 I felt those eyes on me as I shoved another piece of bread with herb butter into my mouth, and looked up. I chewed awkwardly, trying to swallow the bread I had just eaten as they still continued to stare at me. I eventually got the piece small enough to swallow down, nearly choking as I poured myself a glass of water, a cup having appeared next to me at some point. 

I drank down the cold water, finally being able to talk as Tamlin opened his mouth, “You must have been hungry.” Lucien grimaced in dismay at his friend's words. I heard a mumbled ‘hopeless fool’ before he locked a smile on his face.

“Your skills with females have definitely become rusty in recent decades, Tamlin.” Lucien taunted, trying to dissipate the odd energy in the room. He turned towards me, “And you don’t look half as bad now. A relief, I suppose, since you’re to live with us. Though the tunic isn’t as pretty as a dress.” 

“I prefer pants,” I said simply, now taking slow drinks of that fresh water. 

“And why not?” Lucien crooned. It was Tamlin who answered for me. “Because killing us is easier in pants.” I drew back, face soured as I looked at him. 

I wanted to bite back, but I willed my face back into a soft smile as I wiped away the remnants of water as I set down the cup, “What do you want me to do here?” 

Tamlin shrugged, eyes locked onto me, “Nothing, you are free to do as you wish.” There it was - my opening, but anxiety caught the words in my throat as I chewed at the inside of my lip. They both noticed it, the catch in my breath as the words lost themselves.

“Is there something you wish to do?” Tamlin said, softly. I looked back into his eyes before shifting forward more, straightening my back as I readied my question.

“I want to work, to pay for my keep” I felt nervous sweat start to form on my upper lip, licking it away as I kept staring back at those leaf-green eyes. 

“You would be more of a liability than a help,” Lucien said, covering for Tamlin’s silence. 

“I don’t care, I don’t want to be indebted even more to this land. I need to learn how to survive out here too. At least let me train so I don’t die in an instant to whatever type of creatures hide here.” I said, words starting to come out in a fervor as I saw Tamlin’s arms flex as his grip tightened on a golden goblet still full of swirling red wine. 

“No one on the estate will harm you” Tamlin growled out, and I sat back in my chair, crossing my arms and quirking an eyebrow. I knew how wrong he was, what type of beasts would come into his lands during my stay, but he must have taken the look as one of a mortal distrusting of the fae. Which is what I probably should be, groveling and fearful of the towering beasts that sat at the table with me.

“I just- I want to help,” I swallowed around the words, trying to stave off the emotions that threatened to make my voice squeak. It was true, even the couple hours of luxury left my skin itching with that same electric need to move, do something.  

“Don’t you have anything you want to do with your life?” Tamlin asked, trying to dissuade me. Lucien coughed pointedly, Tamlin glared at him for a moment, having a silent conversation that I was not invited to before Tamlin cleared his throat as well. “Do you have any… interests to spend your time on?” Tamlin corrected himself, and I considered if I did, once upon a time, but came up blank.

I shook my head, “Keeping my family alive took priority over hobbies”, I looked back up at him, donning that mask of a girl kidnapped to the fae lands “ They are safe right? There are no more fae coming to claim their lives as well?”

Tamlin nodded stiffly, “They are well cared for, the Treaty only calls for one life for another in its exchange.” It was an answer I knew, but still felt reassured as I tried to turn the conversation back to me doing work.

“Then I still want to help, even if it is just chores.” Tamlin let out a low growl of annoyance. If he was this reluctant to let me help clean the house, I would hate to see him when I have to save him. 

“No- Not as you are, take a couple weeks to look like more than a skeleton” It was an order that I could not sway, and knowing that, I decided fighting it was useless as I went to grab for a bowl of strawberries. They were bright and sweet as I bit into one, the juice running down my chin, I leaned forward, going to grab a napkin from somewhere to realize they had been moved to the opposite side of the table.

 Tamlin was still staring at me, and at my look of confusion and hand placed under my chin to catch the juice from dripping onto the fine clothes, he stood with a short stack of those napkins in one hand. He made his way across the table, silent strides unnervingly smooth as he came to stand next to me. He grabbed one of those pristine napkins, pinching it between his fingers, as he went to wipe away the red juice. I snatched the napkin away, quickly swiping it over my mouth and chin, placing the dirtied napkin in the hand that had been catching the drips.

“I can wipe my own face, Tamlin”, his face tightened again before he stalked his way back to his seat. The action keenly reminded me of a toddler throwing a tantrum. I placed the bowl of strawberries back to where I had grabbed it from, and decided to reach for a chocolate torte before the food all disappeared, even the crumbs that had found home in my lap.

“If you ate anymore you would hurl” he said, taking another long swig from that bottomless wine glass. I went to stand, brushing out imaginary crumbs from my clothes. 

“Thank you,” I said simply, not knowing what to truly say to dismiss myself. I saw a glimmer of mischief in Lucien’s eye as he tilted his own wine glass toward me, unknowingly echoing Tamlin’s invitation for me to drink as well. 

“Won’t you stay for wine?” Lucien drawled with a saccharine sweetness that made my skin prickle. Tamlin shot Lucien a long look as I answered. 

“I’m sorry, I’m tired.”It was the truth, even now I was trying to suppress a yawn that was tickling the back of my throat. 

“It’s been a few decades since I last saw one of you,” Lucien said, the way he said you wanted me to crawl out of my skin but he still pressed on, “but you humans never change, so I don’t think I’m wrong in asking why you find our company to be so unpleasant, when surely the men back home aren’t much to look at.”

I hadn’t thought I had behaved in a way that would lead them to believe I disliked their company, I had been behaved and polite. Tamlin’s ire was palpiple as he glowered at the back of Lucien’s head that must have felt like a brand to the back of his head, but he ignored it .

“I was under the impression that it was you, emissary, who disliked my company.” I said, trying to cover the shock that had sent my heart beating heavily. “You are high fae, correct? I thought humans were little more than swine to your type, so why bother letting me twist the Treaty’s words or let me eat at this table.” 

Lucien looked at Tamlin then, apparently he hadn’t been told I had been the one to bend the words, not his High Lord. Irritation flickered through him as I saw his fingers clench around the stem of his glass, he covered it quickly though, and continued his taunting.

 “True. But indulge me: you’re a human woman, and yet you’d rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this”—he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face—“surely we’re not so miserable to look at.” My heart did pang slightly at his own self deprecation over his mutilation. “Unless you have someone back home. Unless there’s a line of suitors out the door of your hovel that makes us seem like worms in comparison.”

I did not leave a lover back in the village like Feyre had, no I had stayed far way from Issac over the years, even as his hungry eyes found me every time I visited a small pond that would form in the early spring as the snows melted.

“Good company is made by more than pretty faces, and I’d say you barely have that” I made my way to leave, ignoring the quirk in Tamlin’s lip and the predatory smile that had split Lucien’s face.

“Is there anyone you loved in that village?”the question was too genuine from Tamlin to let me keep walking. The truth was no, not in a romantic sense. I had had  the Archeron family I loved, but outside of that my years in that village were a stark swath of loneliness.

“No” the word was harsh as I again turned to make my way to my room, “Good night” I said ,the bite still in my words as I composed myself on my way to my room, hoping to have the freedom to pass out on the mattress and not have any of the servants fuss over me. I was barely halfway down the main hallway before Lucien started barking out a laugh, which was quickly silenced by an irritated snarl.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

I had spent the next day finding the stables under the pretense of wandering the grounds. I had taken up Tamlin’s offer of a tour, no matter how painfully awkward it had been as he showed me the gardens, the library, a bath house, and the kitchens. He had spent the time telling sweet stories of his mother and father, shenanigans he and his brothers would get into that tormented the staff. I almost wanted to comfort him, knowing how bitter his family history truly was, how retched those brothers had been. He also fed me that lie about a magic blight that had welded those masks to their faces, and had left him with only a sliver of power.

The dinner had been even more awkward as Lucien constantly made digs at me, and I could tell he was trying to enrage me, to make me snap at him. It had ended on a somber note as Tamlin brought up a mother I did not remember having, and his keen observations he had made in those few moments he was in the home sent a shiver up my spine. 

But now I was making my way towards the stables Tamlin had shown me yesterday. The gardens hid my figure enough that I had thought I was clear to move but a deep voice behind me made my spine lock. 

“Care for a ride?” Tamlin said behind me and I turned slowly, panic making me smile wide as I looked at him.  “My morning work was postponed. If you want, we can take a ride around the grounds, see more of the land”

I shook my head with as much restraint I could gather. “I’m sorry, I was just going to spend the day looking around myself” He opened his mouth to make another offer before I cut him off again, “Truly, I just need some time to… adjust to everything.”that seemed to convince him enough that he backed off, wishing me a good day before disappearing into the manor. His fists were clenched with white knuckles that seemed to itch to let out those claws as he stomped his way. 

The conversation had taken precious moments that could have let Lucien ride off alone, and I hurried toward the stable, grateful for the braid Alis had done again that morning. My breath was wheezy as I finally made it to the stable, taking a moment to calm my breathing slightly before turning to enter.

I avoided bumping into any of the stable boys as I curved around the front, casualty , as to appear just like a curious mortal who was just looking around. But my breath caught as I saw Lucien, copper red hair loose around his shoulder as he stood astride a beautiful black gelding. He was adjusting a blade along his belt as he looked down at me. His pearly white teeth looked more ready to tear me apart than offer a sweet word as he smiled.

“Well, Morning, Feyre.” I had to cover a wince with a nod as he sat fully in the saddle. “Going for a ride, or merely reconsidering Tam’s offer to live with us?” My reply died in my throat as I was forced to look up at him. My silence was covered though, as he laughed and continued talking to me “Come now. I’m to patrol the southern woods today, and I’m curious about the … abilities you used to bring down my friend, whether accidental or not. It’s been a while since I encountered a human, let alone a Fae-killer. Indulge me in a hunt.”

I nodded at him, a pleasant smile plastered on my face as I tried to find my words again, screaming in my head as I couldn’t make myself say the words I practiced for years. A quiver of fine arrows found their way into Lucien’s hand as I started to regain control over my body, moving out of the way of the stable boys who passed around us. They passed like a swift river, flowing with a liquid smoothness that almost unnerved me.  “No ash arrows today, unfortunately”

“I’m ready to go wherever you are”, the simple words finally broke past my throat as Lucien motioned for a horse to be brought out for me. The white mare that had taken me from the mortal lands was prepared, and I swore her eyes locked with mine in recognition as she was finally brought in front of me. It was easier to get into the saddle now that I was in a stable, able to use a slat of wood to push off of as I plopped down in the seat. A bow was handed to me along with a small pouch of what I assumed was water before the horses started walking.

We set off at an easy trot, away from the gardens and into the woods behind them. A path cut through the woods that we followed, the horses would be able to fit comfortably side by side, but Lucien and his onyx steed rode ahead just a few paces as we worked our way farther into the woods. I took a deep breath of the air, the smell of sun warmed trees as birds twittled around us. 

“Well, you certainly have the quiet part of hunting down,” He was suddenly next to me, causing me to jolt as I opened my eyes from where they had fallen closed as I tilted my head back. I looked at him, eyes lazy with the lulling haze warm days filled me with.

His next words were quiet as he shifted his gaze forward again , “How did you kill him?” I sat straight at that, still looking at him as I contemplated how to phrase myself.

“An arrow- through the heart, at least I assume.” I said, but it didn’t feel like enough, I had to explain myself. “He had just killed a doe, the first one I had seen in a month, and my family was just about to starve. I- we needed the meat.” I had turned my head forward as I continued, chest drawing tight. 

He was quite for a long while before he spoke again, “Tamlin told me he wasn’t brutalized” He didn’t continue on as we rode, the air between us now thick with grief as the leaves rustled around us. I hoped they had brought his body back, had buried him in this eternal spring and not been left to rot in that forest.

“This was Andras’ patrol wasn’t it?” It was simple and I knew the answer as I felt that metal eye burn into my shoulder as he looked at me, there was an urgency in his voice as he asked a question as his own reply. 

“How did you know?” The words were short and said in a low voice that made it sound like he swallowed gravel. I looked at him and saw his hands clenched around the bridle.

“Do emissaries usually patrol the grounds?” I looked forward again, “ I want to patrol with you, learn about where I am to live, and to repay what I took, even if a little.” 

“I’m only Tamlin’s emissary for formal purposes. As for you joining the patrol with me-”, a deep sigh,”- I’ll have to talk to Tam, but don’t get your hopes up. If you’re hoping this will pay off your debt, it won’t, that's not how the Treaty works.”

Again another bout of silence before I spoke again, trying to cover my own ass incase of a slip up farther down the line. “You and Tamlin are High Fae right?” a small nod, “So what type of powers do you have? I know there are stories of fae who can answer any questions you have, or that shape shift into what you most desire?”

“The High Fae don’t have specific powers like that, and those stories you heard were of wicked types of lesser faeries and creatures who love to eat mortal like you, even if you trap them for your answers” He was looking away from me , peering into those woods as I asked another question.

“So there are faeries who will answer any question you ask of them? I already knew of Suriel as he glanced back at me , face drawn up in a grimace as he answered.

“Yes,” he said tightly. “The Suriel. But they’re old and wicked, and not worth the danger of going out to find them. And if you’re stupid enough to keep looking so intrigued, I’m going to become rather suspicious and tell Tam to put you under house arrest. Though I suppose you would deserve it if you were indeed stupid enough to seek one out.”

I couldn’t help the smile that had split my face as I looked ahead. I was finally going to get the answers I needed . But before I could ask more the woods still, the bird songs dying mid-note as Lucien’s head shot to the right. My blood had stilled its flow in my veins, frozen in place as the hair on my arms and back of my neck rose.A rustle in the brush to my right almost made me turn to look but Lucien was already giving me orders.

 “Don’t react,” Lucien said, forcing his gaze ahead, too, the metal eye going still and silent. “No matter what you feel or see, don’t react. Don’t look. Just stare ahead.” His face was paleing from what I could see from the slice of my periphery. The horses continued their pace, ears flattened back against their heads as I held my eyes on an imaginary pole directly in front of us.

A shimmering mass passed at the edge of my vision, circling us as the mare under me had tensed. The air stagnated before freezing, my breath coming out in slow streams of steam as I fought a shiver. That was before it started to speak into my mind, past the tentative walls I had built, to hiss its words. 

I will grind your bones between my claws; 

I will drink your marrow;

 I will feast on your flesh. I am what you fear;

 I am what you dread … Look at me. Look at me.

All moisture was stripped from my mouth as I swallowed around the stone that had arisen in my throat. I wanted to look, so badly that it nearly hurt to keep my neck straight, as it kept whispering into my mind. Its voice was like crackling ice, ancient and tensing my body with a collective human fear of imminent death. 

I will fill my belly with you. I will devour you. Look at me.

I distracted myself, thinking of a life I hadn’t lived in years. Thoughts of crashing waters when I snuck out of the hellhole and down to the waters’ edge to swim and trace the stars across the waters surface.Still as I let the memories flash in my mind’s eye, that voice still demanded my attention as it screamed at me to look, look, look at me. I thought of reading, the hours-days I had spent lost in pages and stories that weren’t my own.

Just as I was about to cry out from the frost forming at my hands and the strain it took to not look, the cold pressure around us eased, disappearing into those woods. The trees and underbrush even seemed to pull away from its path as it passed. The woods that had once looked warm and inviting to me now had become a filth filled trap. My plan to go after the Suriel would have to be postponed until Tamlin killed that thing, something I had forgotten had to happen. 

Lucien let out a long breath as he relaxed slightly in his saddle, the horses following suit as they shook themselves, trying to dispel the dread that was still clinging to my own skin. A small word that I breathed out as I leaned forward to pet the side of the mare had Lucien’s head spinning toward me like I had become that deadly creature. Bogge , I knew the name of the creature the moment the chill had set over us.

“Where did you hear that name?” The words were accusatory as he looked at me with such intensity I thought he was trying to see through me. I was too exhausted from fear to come up with a new lie as I told him a half-truth.

“I read it somewhere” I had a feeling I would be using that excuse a lot in the months to come. He shot me a look of contemplation before he brought his horse back in front of me.  An hour passed with barely more than a dozen words exchanged between us as the sun rose higher into the sky, warming my still shivering skin. That echoing voice still scratched at the back of my head, beckoning me to look and follow its path.

“How did you come to be Tamlin’s emissary?” It was a simple question, one I knew had probably been answered in those tomes I had read so long ago, but it was easy conversation. 

“He was a friend and I wanted away from my family, why do you ask?” He continued looking forward as he turned his head slightly the answer, the lines of muscle in his neck building and accentuating the sharp line of his jaw before he looked forward.

I had to swallow around nothing as I controlled my heart, stupid fae males and their beauty were already starting to distract me. “You don’t look like you belong to the Spring Court''. I only got a grunt in reply as the ride continued. 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

Lucien practically shoved me in front of him as we entered the dining room and I was about to shoot him a glare before I heard a low growl from the blond fae male sitting at the head of that table. I realized Lucien had used me as a sacrificial lamb to the beast as I made eye contact with the whiny bastard. 

He had a long claw extended over his goblet, a trade from the glass I had assumed he used, but the ringing of the metal across the wine was all the same screech to me as he broke the stare first, looking over to Lucien with a stare so harsh I was half-expected it to draw blood from the courtier. 

I supposed it looked incriminating, me saying I wanted the day alone that morning before strolling in with his friend after a whole day spent together on patrol. I honestly didn’t care as Lucien seemed to pale at the sight of his High lord.

“We went for a hunt”, it was pitiful the way Lucien’s voice wavered for even half a moment as he spoke, and it made me wonder if Tamlin’s future tantrums were more than spurred on by his love for Feyre. I dismissed the thought for the moment.

“I heard” It was low and rough and made me feel like a child breaking curfew as Lucien and I moved to our seats. “And did you have fun?” Those claws slowly pulled back into his skin, leaving slits of pink that quickly closed as he hand shifted to grasp the goblet. 

Lucien was quiet and his eyes pleaded with me as I glared at him fully now. These males were wretched cowards, and the thought made me giggle enough in my head that I brought a smile up as I looked at him, tilting my head softly. 

“I suppose so,” I said , and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as I saw Lucien balk at my words.

“Did you catch anything?” His irritation stoked the flames of my joy as I started to pile pieces of exotic fruits and fat laden meats onto my plate that had appeared. 

“No '' simple answer as I started to bring those ever so wonderful foods to my lips. Lucien’s eyes begged me to elaborate, to spare him from the wrath of his friend. My eyes narrowed in answer, and I hoped he saw the wicked flickers of joy at his predicament.  It seemed Tamlin was also done talking to me as he started to serve himself. 

Lucien was quite as he tentatively started to speak “Tam,” those green eyes peered up at him and I could have sworn his pupils had become slitted like a feline , “the Bogge was in the woods today” 

The fork Tamlin had been holding turned into a crescent of metal as he spoke flat words, “You ran into it.” There was no question in his words, only demand for where it was, where he was to hunt it down. Still Luicen nodded before telling him of the path we had been on, where it had passed us. 

Tamlin stalked out of the room, razor sharp claws already back, and spared me no more than a glance as he passed. He eased the dining room door with a softness that was far more threatening than if he had shattered the wood from slamming it shut. The closed door did not block the rattle of the windows as the front doors to Rosehall were closed.

A moment of silence before I let out an exaggerated sigh , sagging in my seat. Lucien gave me a long stare as he rubbed at his temples, pushing away the small plate of food he had in front of him.

I couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say as I piled what I would eat onto the plate, taking it to my room to let Lucien have a moment alone. The small breakfast table in my room was more than enough for me to finish the meal, belly bulging from the warm food. A glass and pitcher of cold tea had found its way to the table before I had even made it to the room and I sent out a loud “Thank you” to whatever invisible servant had brought it for me.

The evening passed slowly as I ate, the sun casting my room in brilliant golds and reds that darkened the greens of the walls and bedding. Maybe the grime from the ride still clung to my skin, or maybe it was just the presence of mind knowing the Bogge was still out there, alive in its non-living way, that made my skin crawl. I decided to draw a bath in that enchanted bathroom, spending more time than I would care to admit to figure out how to fill the tub with steaming water.

I found soap in a cabinet, along with a fluffy sea-foam green towel, and let myself soak away the dusk hours. I had opened a window that let in a wind of night cooled lillies and I stared out at the sliver of sky I could see. I watched the oranges fade to indigo and navy as white stars blinked awake.

 I wondered if the High lord of the Night was also staring at that sky, if he was currently miles underneath the cold stone that separates him from his domain. A harsh pang hit me at the thought. I closed my eyes and sent out a small prayer to the Mother and the Cauldron to carry me across the months to free Prythian, and free myself to return to home.

Maybe years after I settled back in my world I would think back and wish I had given myself more time to enjoy the magic and wonder of the world. Years would pass and my heart might start to yearn for the sisters I had grown with; maybe I would appreciate those quiet years in that forest. 

I opened my eyes and the sky was dark, those stars caressing the swirling nebula and galaxies that shone through the ink. I think that what I would miss the most- the clear sky not fuzzed with the light pollution of millions of humans . I would miss the undisturbed nature that had grown to comfort me.

The bath had grown cold as I rose from the water, wrapping myself in that pale green towel as I made my way back to the room. I found night clothes laid out on the bed, powder-blue lined with white lace. I dressed, the fabric silken against my skin as I went to set myself up by the large window next to where I had eaten dinner. I propped the chair under the window, so I could peer into that garden as the Moon rose higher and higher to its place in the sky.

I had almost relaxed enough to close my eyes, to enjoy that cold silver light that carried the scent of jasmine, but movement by the gates of the garden dragged my lazy eyes to investigate. A shadowed figure was standing there, moving with casual steps as it placed itself under the moonlight.

I closed the window before the puca could render itself fully, drawing the curtains tightly. My peace had been soured and I tossed and turned for hours as I tried to fall asleep. I had barely slept the night before either, missing the radiating heat from 2 other bodies I had grown accustomed too, but now exhaustion was dragging me down into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

I spent the next couple days going on patrol with Lucien, not running into the Bogge again as Tamlin spent his days away, hunting it. When I wasn’t on top of that white mare, I was in the library. I fetched books from high shelves that had a crust of dust as their sleeve as I brought them down. I would study until the moon was high in the sky and sleep welcomed me with silent arms. Books on Prythina, its creatures, were almost always in front of me, even in my bed chamber. I would read as Alis braided my hair, only pausing to get dressed with the chosen tunic for the day.

It was one of those late nights, where my eyes hung heavy as I hauled myself with a book in arm back to my room from the expansive library, that the High lord prowled silently in from the wide front doors. Even in the low light of night I saw the limp and dark wet trail he left behind as he moved towards me. 

I should have been afraid, should have quaked at the sight of such a beast, but all I did was place the heavy book on the foyer table and rush towards him. Before I reached him a white flash blinded me for a moment, when I opened my eyes the beast was gone and he was there, in front of me, his hand dripping with a steady stream of blood that stained the polished floors. His clothes were shredded to little more than scraps that clung to him. 

The change did not halt me , though, as I grabbed at his arm , examining the gash. His eyes were hollow as he looked at me, and he offered no resistance as I twisted his hand up and into the small amount of light.

“You’re hurt” it wasn’t a question, but his eyes seemed to just barely get life back into them as he looked down at his hand. He seemed to just have remembered he had limbs that could bleed as he watched the trickle of blood now staining my hands.

“Yes”, the word was dull and monotone as he answered. He still seemed to be struggling to separate himself from his beastly form, from where he had to be to face the bogge as his eyes slid to where the heavy book I had been carrying was now resting.

I answered his question before he could ask it. “I’m learning of the world that I am to spend my life in” it wasn’t a lie, it was probably the closest I could get to the truth without ruining my efforts. He seemed to take it at face value though as he turned back to me, nodding ever so slightly. 

“Where is the infirmary?” I still held his hand, failing to keep the blood from ruining those tiles as he started towards what I hoped was an infirmary, that he wasn’t delirious enough to guide us to a random storage closet rather than an infirmary. 

For a second I thought my worries had come true as Tamlin opened a small door, simple compared to the large doors I had started to expect for every room in the house. The candles adorning the wall lit the moment Tamlin passed the threshold, allowing me to see into the room. It was small, not suited to house more than 1 patient at a time. A tall workbench sat at one side of the room, a sink at one end of it as cabinets lined the opposite wall and underneath the worktop. 

I guided Tamlin to sit on the table top, placing his hand down where the blood would drip into the basin. I found a bowl and wash cloth, which I filled with warm water , and set them to the side as I searched for gauze and any ointment that smelled medicinal. When I had all the materials gathered I turned back, skin itching like I had walked through poison ivy as I found his eyes on me.

I tried to ignore the feeling as I set to cleaning his hand of blood and dirt. The gash I had seen in the foyer had shrunk down to a couple of jagged cuts that didn’t require the stitching I had been bracing myself to give him. I almost sagged in relief at that fact as I continued to wash the skin until it was back to the softly tanned color. I wrapped his hand as quickly as possible after I rubbed a small portion of ointment into those cuts. 

I dumped the bloody water into the skin, turning on the faucet to wash it down. I cleaned the sides of the basin using the rag that had wiped away his blood, only stopping to drape the cloth over the faucet head once it ran clean. I was still ignoring the prickling stare of the High Lord as I washed my own hands. 

“Do you like to read?” he asked and I paused from where I was lathering my arm up to my elbow in rose scented soap.

“Yes,”I said, words drawn tight as I considered if I would have Tamlin as a friend, knowing what he could become. I glanced over my shoulder, and though I knew him to be hundreds of years old, he looked like a curious boy in the soft light. I decided then to bare a part of me, not Feyre, in that infirmary .“I love reading” softer words, as soft as the moonlight that cooled the yellowed glow of candles through a small window. That love is what gave me the knowledge that I was using to survive this world.

He seemed to consider my words for a moment, “There were no books in your… home.” I gave him a long stare over my shoulder before I turned back to the water, rinsing the suds from my skin.

“We didn’t have the money; books are expensive in the mortal lands.” I had balked the first time I had seen a book at market, the price more silver than  what I could bring in a whole season of hunting and selling pelts. I turned off the water before grabbing for a dry cloth that hung from the wall above the sink. I wiped at my arms as I turned fully to him.

His eyes were glowing with a feral power as they roamed up and down my figure. I would have thought it perverted if I hadn’t seen his expression. There he was considering my words, I hoped it wasn’t so hard to believe a poor human girl could find sanctum in words on paper.

“You aren’t what I expected- for a human girl” Tamlin said ,his eyes locked with mine before I turned to exit through the door. 

“You are exactly what I expected”,the words were low enough that perhaps he couldn’t hear them as I shut the door behind me as I went back to my rooms to fall into a new night of empty dreams.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

The next morning I spent collecting my supplies; A length of rope, a bow with a quiver of normal arrows, and a deep emerald green robe. With my supplies wrapped around me, I set off for that western wood.

The birch grove was easy to find once I heard the movement of water that marked the shallow stream that ran just to its side. The forest itself was oppressive in the way it curled around me, branches blocking out all but needle points of dappled light. I set the snare in the underbrush of the grove, placing the robe in the center of it. The Suriel had to know it was a trap, and had to know who was trapping it for answers.

Still it made me wait, sitting in an oak tree just on the edge of the grove, where my tailbone yelled at me with every small adjustment in posture. The sun rose higher, then started to dip out of its apex as I waited. I could barely stand the heat that now caused my skin to glisten with sweat, but still I waited. More time, more sweat soaking into the pale blue tunic Alis had dressed me in that morning. I sipped water from a canteen I had snatched from the kitchen on my way out, along with a small pouch of cheese that I now nibbled at as I contemplated demanding for the creature to come to me .

Another half hour and my neck was starting to get a crick as a silence that spoke of death and wind and bloodless flesh fell upon the wood like a tarp. I sat still in that tree, barely daring to breathe as I waited again, hoping for it just to be a few moments before I could get my answers. A rustle of fabric, dragging over the low vegetation on the ground as it approached the clearing. 

The snap of rope and bone-rattling scream told me that I had been successful as I descended from the tree. I walked with full steps, not caring to sneak into the clearing as I saw the crouching figure draped in tattered cloth. I held the bow to my side, one arrow notched and ready to fire.

“Suriel?” I knew my human instinct should be telling me to run, scream, get out of the presence of the being I had trapped, but as the warped head of the faerie twisted toward me all I felt was sympathy for it as I saw the way it reverently clutched at the green fabric of the cloak.

Its gray head twisted more, facing me fully. A needle-toothed grin as it surveyed me. It looked at me like a circling predator despite its current position being the one snared like prey, its eyes pools of twisted bone and frothing saliva.

“Human,” I had thought it knew of me, that its abilities had made it just shy of omniscient, but the way it tasted the word in its lipless mouth didn’t speak of recognition, “Did you set this clever, wicked trap for me?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” My words were curt, stinging with disappointment as I sat on a fallen log that left plenty of room between me and them. A laugh that sounded like it was made of grinding marrow and stone made the tree branches pull back, letting just the tiniest bit of sun in.

“Which one of my brethren told you of my secrets?” Its voice clicked out, old as the oceans as its bony finger clattered together.

“None, I read of you, I know you ” It paused its clattering, tasting the undiluted truth as my voice lowered. I did know it, know it was a dreamer even when it knew all of this world. 

“You- you are a new thread, not yet woven to this world, aren’t you?” The words felt like insects crawling under my skin as it continued to speak, “Ask your questions, thread, they are quite peculiar, aren’t they?”

I straightened my back as I spoke “Can I go home? Back where I am from?” That was my most pressing question, burning the back of my throat in my desire to see my family.

“I don’t know the ways of those who travel the worlds, do not know how the Mother decides to pull who and what through those rifts between.” An expected answer, even if it tore at the scrap of hope I had kindled.

“How did I come here? I read about this world- but that was fiction, not this” I said, trying to measure out my breaths, waiting for the Suriel to answer me as I still stared at its eyes. “Why am I in this body of all things? The real Feyre was needed to save this world.” I hoped the new questions would spur it, even as I laid the painful questions I had been holding to my chest for 6 years.

“I can only answer with musings of other beings who have been brought here, I cannot give the truth of something I was not a witness to. I can see your thoughts, of the book you read, and this world is not that one.” my breath hitched, all my preparations would be for naught if things changed, but the pages I remembered had held true- 

“A cousin of this world, parallel wherever the other runs. Feyre is you, you have accepted the name have you not?” it was true, it had become second nature to refer to myself by that name now- but I wasn’t her. I didn’t have her heart, didn’t have those colors that spoke to her soul, nor did I take up that bow and arrow selflessly to fulfill an oath made on a deathbed.

“What you read, what you knew, is close enough to this world to guide you- the histories you learned are the same but the ties of fate have changed, changed the moment you took over the body of a weak soul that relinquished its fate.”

 A small relief to know I hadn’t stolen the body- but to now know  that my knowledge was half baked of this world. It destabilized my laid out plan for the next coming months. There was still a shred of that hope fluttering in my soul though- that I could die at the end of the trials I would face at Amarantha’s hand to free Prythian. I would still free this world from her grasp, let the rest of their story unfold as they faced Hybern.

“There are other rift jumpers you - you already know of them- they have resided in this world far longer than you. Stay with the High lord, he will bring you to them; use your knowledge to right the wrongs you seek” 

“Can I still limit the blood shed in the war against Hybern? Even after I face the trials?” I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘after I am dead’, even after years of accepting that fate. 

A shallow nod before they spoke again “You have all you need, follow your heart and you will be rewarded in a way few have been.” I was about to ask for clarifaction but the Suriel stilled its fidgeting movements, straightening. I didn’t wait for its words as I loosed the arrow I had strung. The rope around its ankles snapped freeing it, but the Suriel paused for another moment as I stood, already half running to the edge of the birch lined clearing.

“I’ll leave the world better than I found it.” It was all I said before disappearing into the woods, away from the sounds of knocked over brush that were quickly approaching. From the corner of my eye I saw the Suriel dart off from its position.

I turned, speeding  my legs up as I felt the serpentine beasts rushing around me. I had another arrow drawn, ready in my hands as I ran, leaping over lattices of roots that reached up to grab at me. A figure of shadow and scales and death appeared to my right, tandem to me as I turned away from it. But another naga was there at my left and I had to quickly correct my path to keep from running into its claws. I pulled the string of my bow back as I slowed for a moment, letting the figures keep moving ahead for a second as I took aim. The one on my left was the first to turn back, barreling toward me as branches snapped in its path.

My arrow found its home in its throat as I pulled another arrow into my hand, taking off back into the woods as I heard the 2 others snarl as they came for me again. I felt their mass behind me as I moved forward, and loosed that arrow in an awkward shot that found its home in one of them, if the scream of pain and writhing anger was any indication.

Still 1 more was somewhere in those woods around me as I kept forward, praying I had remembered the direction of those rolling hills as I moved past more towering trees. A swoosh of air next to my ear reminded me of those talons as I drove forward. My legs screamed as I slammed the curve of my bow into it, I heard a thud as it hit the ground before it yowled nasty promises to kill me slowly.

I didn’t know how long the arrows would keep them down, or if the High Lord hunting them was far behind as I grabbed another arrow. I was about to rush into a thicket of bushes head toward the bright line of sunshine, but an unaccounted for mass of teeth and scales was in front of me, and I did not have enough time or quick enough reflexes to dodge as I barreled into it.

 The arrow flew from my hand, but the bow remained in my iron grip as rambles and roots caught me. The creature was over me and those claws were slashing, tearing the front of my tunic and causing shallow cuts to well with ruby blood. I used the bow to slam against its head, but its legs held their ground as it quickly refigured itself. I used the bow to keep it as far as possible, whacking and smashing and trying to squirm away from under it with all of my strength. It caught the curved wood in its black claws, snapping half of it away from me as it lunged again. But now I had a sharp steak between us, one I tilted and drove up as it dived down, impaling itself on the wood, screaming out as I did so. 

It wasn’t ash wood by any means, but the shaft of wood now curved out of the faeries back as I pushed more, black blood flowing down on top of me as I slammed it to the ground. I pulled myself up by thorn covered branches, tearing more skin and flesh as I ran again. I heard a roar behind me, and I thought it sounded much more like Tamlin’s than those wicked creatures, but still I didn’t slow as I broke out of the woods.

Blood was running down my front and my arms as I kept pushing my legs toward the manor. My lungs burned and I cursed myself for not continuing to run in the woods when the winter had set in that year. But there was a Tamlin, dressed in greens and gold as he stood a few feet away from me. His claws were out, long and lethal as the naga’s as I kept toward him. I only slowed when I ran past him, turning back slightly as I panted. He still stood in the tall grasses, truly looking like the High Lord of Spring as he made his way through the undulating green waves..The claws were gone by the time he reached me.

“Feyre-” his eyes held worry as he looked back at the woods before fully settling on me, “I was tracking a pack and- those got away” the words were laced with pain, guilt, as he grasped at my arm like I had done for him the night before, inspecting the tears on my hands and forearm before his eyes drifted to the shreds of powder blue sticking to me with dark blood.

 The blood was both mine and the naga, my wounds still pushing out ruby drops. I winced as the smell of metal, like that of a welding shop, enveloped me. The wounds were gone as I looked down the next moment, and my hands were no longer hot with pain as he let go. 

“I found one dead a mile away, then 1 more on the way and yet another yowling where its head was half crushed in- when I heard you scream” he said as he was pulling off his own tunic, handing it over to me.  I flushed as I looked down and saw my blue tunic in shreds, barely covering my chest. 

I quickly threw the shirt over me, the fabric engulfing me as it fell down to a comfortable dress length. His white undershirt was cut close to his skin, soaked down with sweat, and I watched his muscles shift as he moved. 

He was a killing machine, born and bred for battle. Still fear did not grip my heart, as it had not gripped me when I beheld the Suriel, only that tretours feeling of sympathy for beings I knew held soft souls behind centuries of killing and blood. 

“Thank you, for the tunic” my words were quiet as I looked into his eyes. I saw anger burning in the green, not aimed at me but at himself. 

“They shouldn’t have gotten away from me, I’m sorry.”It seemed he wanted to say more as he came closer to me, perhaps to guide me back to the manor. “Do I want to know why you were out in the woods?” He smiled as he spoke, trying to dissipate the raging adrenaline that still had my heart slaming against my ribs like a jackhammer.

I smiled at him, as much as I could muster with the black blood splattered over my face. “Just answering some questions.” His eyes widened as he pieced it together, the birch grove he must have seen as he followed the trail of those beasts. 

He didn’t ask any more questions as we started back toward the gates of the manor. 

Chapter Text

Alis was brushing my hair after I had soaked in a bath until my skin had pruned. Occasional tremors would shake my shoulders, even as I melted under Alis’ thin fingers at my scalp. Alis’ had brought me a cup of thick hot chocolate that made my stomach turn at the thought of drinking, so I sat now with a tall glass of water as the other maids filtered out of the room to go help with dinner.

“I think if I never have to see a naga again I can count that as a win in this life.” I broke the silence in the room, hearing a small laughing sigh come from Alis as her fingers twisted my hair into a delicate braid.

“Maybe if one didn’t go looking for trouble, it wouldn’t find you. Don’t think I didn’t hear about what you took with you into those woods,” A playful pull on my hair as she continued, “Stupid, mortal girl, trying to trap the Suriel.”

I grinned as the tension against my scalp loosened, “I hope you fae are open to correct yourselves- I did catch the Suriel, and had a rather pleasant talk with them.” I picked at the dirt that was caught under my thumbnail as my hair tightened again and Alis was there, pulling my head back until our eyes met. Maybe the adrenaline of fighting for my life had made me delirious; at least that's what Alis’ face said as she looked into my twinkling eyes and the mischievous grin across my face. 

“I hope whatever answers you got were enough to satisfy you , girl, if the Suriel hadn’t been in a benevolent mood you would have been its next meal, and not to mention the naga that nearly did make you its next meal.” She had stepped away from me, observing the work she had done with the twisting braid that draped between my shoulder blades. I stood, making to look at myself in the mirror, but Alis was redirecting me towards the bed, to the light evening dress she had laid out for me

I shot her a long glance, she shrugged and grabbed a light tunic and loose-fitting pants that she had hidden somewhere behind the bed.

“I thought we already agreed no dresses.” I had been keeping consistent with the ask of no dresses, even in my nightclothes I refused to wear a nightgown. Her expression said all I needed to know as I dressed, her hands coming to help me fasten the laces of the tunic despite my protests. 

The shreds of the light blue tunic were still bunched in the corner of the room where I had thrown them the moment I entered the chamber, and I felt slightly guilty for the ruin of such fine clothes. I made sure to ignore the pool of green fabric that tangled with the shreds, the high lord’s tunic that he had shucked from his own back for my modesty. 

Alis ushered me towards the door, even with my protests of wanting dinner in my room, and continued to guide me down the hall and stairs to the dining room. I was still grumbling as she opened the door to the dining room and nudged me to go in.

Tamlin was sitting at his usual spot at the head of the table and had apparently not used the time since returning to the house to get a new tunic. Lucien sat to Tamlin’s right, again his normal spot, and watched me with a whirring eye as I pulled out a chair next to him. I nodded a silent hello to both of them as I sat, and started to pile my plate with stew-soaked breads and glistening fruits. 

“A rather exciting afternoon for both of you, or so I’ve heard,” Tamlin grunted his noncommittal agreement at the same time I did, swirling his ever-present wine glass as he stared past Lucien and directly at me.

“Well, you still look lovely- despite your hellish afternoon” I almost choked on a chunk of bread at that, the filthy liar. 

“I guess when all you do is stare at yourself in the mirror I would seem rather lovely, wouldn’t I?” The joke was easy, this type of communication was always easy for me.

A barked laugh from Lucien as Tamlin let out a light chuckle. Good, it was good that they were laughing and not interrogating me about my time with the Suriel. I think my thoughts had jinxed me as Lucien turned to fully face me.

“Speaking of your afternoon, I heard from a little birdy that our human guest went to the western woods to snare a new beast to answer their questions.” I looked back down at my plate to ignore the burning stare of Lucien. He went to say something else but Tamlin spoke first

“You do know we would answer any of your questions? We would never willingly lie to you, nor have we.” willingly because with Amarantha’s curse, they could mention nothing of it. Still, I nodded my head, placating as I plucked up a cube of watermelon. The sweetness distracted me for a moment before I rinsed it away with the cold glass of water that had become my staple for dinners.

Lucien let the silence sit for a beat before he spoke, “Did the Suriel tell you what you wanted to know?” Another nod from me, slower this time.

“Enough, though the naga interrupted before I could finish our conversation.” I saw Tamlin look to Lucien as the emissary quirked an eyebrow.

“Conversation? You had a conversation with the Suriel.” Disbelief etched every word as he spoke. I hummed as I ate a bit of chicken, truly I was starving as I hadn’t eaten all but a small breakfast and the cheese I had nibbled on in the woods. That seemed to tell them both to drop it as we all ate, Lucien dismissing himself before dessert could be served, claiming a headache.

That left me with Tamlin, awkward silence surrounding both of us as I ate a slice of honeyed cheesecake. He took occasional draws from his wine while he ate a small pastry. I would have laughed if only for the absurdity of a high lord eating a pastry with a knife and fork, but I instead decided to take the moment to try and be friends with him.

“So, you know my hobby, what about yourself? What types of hobbies do fae lords partake in?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to lighten the dense mood.

He looked at me, and I was afraid for a moment he wouldn’t answer and make it even more awkward, but he did speak after a moment of studying me. “I am quite skilled with a fiddle, took it up during my time as a soldier.” I tried my best to ignore the disappointment that the information he was giving was already known to me.

“Well, perhaps Mr. Soldier can treat me to a song one day.” I smiled at him as I continued, neatening up my plate so it was easier for the staff to take away, “I also love music, though I cannot play in any capacity.”

I tried to laugh at myself as I made for the door, but his words caught me like a snare, “I could teach you one day,  if you are interested.” It was a tentative offer and I fully turned to him, bowing slightly at the waist.

“I would be flattered, Tamlin” I walked out of the dining room and went to hide in the library for the remaining hours of the day. I tried to ignore the smile that pulled at my lips and the matching grin on Tamlin’s face.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

I had been asleep, only a few moments of numb blackness before I woke up. A book was sprawled open over the quilt I had dragged over me, I must have fallen asleep while reading. I was still foggy with sleep, confused why I was awake when I heard the shouts coming from the floor below followed by a scream.

The scream was of a dying animal, guttural and coated in agony I had only heard when I missed the killing shot. I was out of my room and down the hall before I could think, slamming into the sides of the walls as I turned around them, nearly jumping the whole flight of stairs as I came into the main hall. Another scream before the doors in front of me were kicked open.

  Kicked as Tamlin came in with that blue-skinned faerie who was stripped with deep rivers of blood running down his back. I didn’t slow my running, running to the table at the center of the foyer - Tamlin was already yelling at Lucien to clear the table but I was there first, arms sweeping across it. A vase shattered on the tiles as the book I had left the night before went along with it.

Tamlin set the faerie, still screaming and thrashing about, onto the table. I beheld the splintered stumps where the wings had been sawed and torn off, and had to fight the burning of bile rising to my throat. Lucien was there, across the table from me, and Tamlin was talking to him, telling him where the faerie had been found. The words were lost to me though, the ringing screams of the faerie blending with the pounding of blood in my ears as I still stared.

“My wings,” the words were broken, choked out in writing pain as the pure black eyes stared at nothing, unfocused at everything besides- “she took my wings”. 

I was there, at his side as he gripped the edge of the table, and was pushing back the solid form of black that was his hair. It was as soothing as I could be as I mumbled sounds of comfort. Tamlin was eyeing me as hot water and rags appeared next to white bandages. I glared up at him as I matched his eye contact, but I was the one to break it as the faerie wailed out again, thrashing about as Tamlin soaked one of those rags in water.

“She took my wings-” His veins stood in bold gold against blue skin as his long fingers tightened on the table, “She took my wings” I wondered if she had Rhys do the mangling to the poor summer faerie, a reminder of what she could have done.

The thought washed from my head as Tamlin told the faerie to keep still, slowly bringing a steaming rag to the spouting wounds. “N-n-No” The single syllable word broke as the faerie twisted, but I was pushing his shoulders to the table. I held him down on the table with all my strength as Lucien still stood, staring. 

The skin under my fingers slipped and I had to look back down, readjusting my grip on wet-velvet skin before I looked back up at Lucien, asking for help to hold faerie down. The color was gone from Lucien’s face as he was cemented to the spot.

“Lucien,” A command from Tamlin, low and simple as steady hands wiped around the stumps first- avoiding the raw white tangles of nerves I saw peaking through gushing blood. But there was no response from Lucien outside as he moved only to wretch into a plant at the edge of the hallway. Before either I or Tam could say something, he was out of the room, sprinting from the bloodied faerie as I had from the naga.

The faerie went to twist again in my hands, but I pushed down, bearing all of my weight onto the thin arms. My shoulders shook as I bent down to Faerie’s ear.

 “Keep still” It was my only demand, a plea as the faerie kept thrashing. 

“She took my wings- she took them” Broken, everything in him was broken the moment his wings had been taken.

“I know- I know, it'll be okay” I choked on my words before I swallowed, “You will get them back.” Those eyes had moved to me, the pain in the pure black evident enough that I wanted to sob with him. I tried to soothe him as much as I could, moving my fingers ever so slightly against the blue skin while keeping him down.

The rag touched the wound and the shriek that came from the faerie was unearthly. My bones groaned at the sound as the faerie tried to raise itself from the table, to get away from the rag. I held him still as Tamlin looked at me after he wiped as much blood as he could away.

“They aren’t clotting,” he said it under his breath, defeated as he could do nothing to prevent the death that was permeating the hall. The blood that was still gushing from the wounds had pooled on the floor, and my knees became sticky with it as I readjusted my position. 

I was kneeling next to the faerie, laying my head on the table to look into those eyes. My hands had moved, no longer pinning the faerie but stroking his cheek with one hand. With the other I held one of those long-fingered hands, rubbing soft circles into his fingers. I tried to distract him as he kept sobbing, tears now pooling under him.

“She took them-” 

“I know, I know” I spoke softly, easy as his breathing grew wheezy.

“She took my wings” 

I shushed him, still looking into his eyes as I reassured him.“You’ll get them back- I promise.”

“You swear?” Those delicate blue hands squeezed mine as some light twinkled in his eyes. Tears welled in my eyes as I lied to him.

“On everything I am, I swear- When you wake up you will have your wings back” He smiled, weak and pained as his eyes fluttered closed. Wet tears collected against the wood and my skin as I kept holding his hand, petting the starless sky that pooled around him.

I looked up only for a moment as I felt the movement of Tamlin. He was taking the other hand that had fallen limp on the other side of the table into his own. A prayer- he had started reciting the same prayer that I had said over Andras.

I spoke it alongside him, whispered as I held the faerie, hoping my hands were soft to guide him to the promised land. If Tamlin heard or saw my mouth moving he did not falter in his words until he sent off the soul with his final words. “Go, and enter eternity”

A breath- the dying faeries- sighed out, and the hand I held stopped squeezing back even as I continued to stroke at his hair, his skin. A dying butterfly- that is what it reminded me of, soft and wicked to rip the wings from it, watch it suffer only to die in pain. 

I heard the other hand softly thud against the table as Tamlin let go, stepping away from the body, but I kept kneeling, holding his hand as it cooled in my grip. My legs had gone numb and my own fingers were cramping from the cold of the body when Tamlin set a warm hand on my back.

His eyes hadn’t left me since the faerie’s last breath, I had felt them against my skin in the minutes after. I knew he had questions, knew I would have to answer them but now- but just for now I wanted to soothe the pains of the sacrificial faerie.

“He’s gone. Let him go” Tamlin’s words shook me only slightly from my stupor, and I looked up at him with a blotchy face I knew had to be repulsive to him as I gripped onto his offered hand. Tamlin helped pull me to my feet, my eyes swimming with white orbs as I stood.

My bare feet moved slightly, congealing blood clinging to my skin as I stepped away, Tamlin guiding me.  I wished I knew the faerie’s name , a soft mourning thought that echoed through me as Tamlin guided me to the stairs. I stopped though, turning to him. 

Blood still stained his tunic from where had carried the faerie in, and his face seemed much older than the 20-something face I had grown used to. He looked weathered, dropping his youth and I could see the 500 years of politics and brutality weighing down his soul. Something inside me softened as I brushed  hand down his arm.

“I’ll wait for you,” a pause where I looked toward the splayed body on the table, and I considered if I should learn to paint like Feyre had and show the masses the cruel beauty I had witnessed, “Go bury him”

“I was going to walk you to your room first but-” His eyes still stayed on me as he pulled back, I saw where he wanted to argue and leave me to my room and maybe he sensed that I would not back down here “I will be back soon, I promise.”

I didn’t want him back soon, not when a life had just been lost for nothing more than posturing and tantalizing threats. I was silent, though, as he gathered the body in his arms and made his way to the still-open doors and I sat down slowly on the stairs. The marble was cold under me as I watched his figure retreat away from the manor’s doors. He turned at some point and disappeared from my vision, but I was staring blankly into the sky. 

I watched small tufts of clouds blur the stars like pieces of stray cotton. I longed to disappear into those stars and clouds, to alleviate the dense emotions thrumming through me as I brought blood-soaked knees to my chest. Tears fell into them, but I stayed silent and resisted the loud screaming sobs I wished to unleash. I couldn’t let it out though, not as I knew invisible eyes and ears observed me as the scent of blood was replaced with a fragrant cleaner.

I do not know how much time passed where I stared into those star-flecked clouds before I saw him again. A small shadowed figure on the horizon, barely distinguishable from the swaying grasses, slowly grew back into the High Lord. I watched him, and I knew he saw me there on the stairs still as he came back into the foyer. 

The shattered glass had disappeared and all but a trace smell of iron was left of the blood as he passed through the threshold and approached me. I stood before he could offer his hand, and instead offered mine to him. Tamlin hesitated for a moment before he took it. He was still the one to guide me to my room but in that moment I felt a small bridge being formed, an understanding between the two of us as I only led as we ascended the stairs.

The door to my chambers was approaching far too quickly, and I had already grown dependent on the warmth I leached from his hand. I felt as though I would freeze on the spot if the connection was broken, and I understood the comfort Feyre had first sought from him. Then my hand was dropped from his grasp and I didn’t freeze, instead just idling in front of my door.

I was reluctant to break what we had formed, break the silence, but I wasn’t the one to break it as Tamlin spoke.

“Why?” It was his only word before I furrowed my brows, confused. “Why, after Andras?”

I cringed, too tired to hide it as I looked at him fully, blood-stained as I was. “No one deserves to die alone, and when I go, I want someone to be there and stay a little while after, so I pay others the same respect” True, it was always true, I had hated the thought of slipping away alone, had always stayed with the animals I killed for a few moments after their last breath before I processed them. But that was too much to give to Tamlin so I would make this an exchange;  A question for a question.

“Did you get to bury Andras?” I was afraid the answer would be no, that I had murdered and left a body to rot but a small nod from Tamlin eased some of the weight from my chest.  Before I could say more, to say good night or something of the like, Tamlin was already down the hall, to wherever his bedroom lay I presumed. 

Maybe I was as much of a coward as he was when I didn’t go after him. I eased my way into my room, peeling the bloody cloth from me before entering the bathroom.

I rinsed the blood from my skin under the faucet before I let the water collect to form a bath. I only filled it partly, only wanting to scrub the night away from my skin as I found a washcloth and a new bar of soap that had been left for me. No more than 15 minutes had elapsed by the time I left the bathroom to find a new set of sleepwear, a pair of cerulean shorts and a loose top, laid on the bed.

I was quick to change and even quicker to burrow myself under the quilt I had abandoned earlier that night. There was no warmth left in the fabric as I wrapped it around me, trying to stave off the icy feeling of my blood as I found sleep.

Chapter Text

Nightmares of gnashing naga teeth and scraping bones had me waking up  early, rising as the soft glow of the sun was just cresting the hedge line of the garden outside my window. I changed quickly, not waiting for Alis to come to my room and braid my hair as I slipped out of my room, keeping to walls as I made my way to the garden. I felt secretive, as though I was breaking some unestablished rule of Rosehall as I moved into the garden, cutting through the hedges to stand just outside.

I did not pause to enjoy the soft buzzing of insects and cool morning breezes as I started around the property, keeping my pace to a jog. The movements were familiar and intrinsic enough to ignore the thoughts of splayed blue limbs in favor of watching my footfalls. I fell into a training routine I had set into place when I started hunting in the woods. 

The run around the lands was easy enough, simply going around the long perimeter of the manor, but my usual tree-climbing had to be replaced with ground exercises as I grimaced at the thought of entering those western woods again. I tried to ignore the stares of the stable boys I saw gather at the open mouth of the barn, and of the sentries mixed through with them, as I ran. But they got the better of me as I retreated to the hedged privacy of the gardens to continue. I did lunges, push ups, crunches, squats, jumping jacks, and whatever other workouts I could think of until my body felt like ground beef and the thin clothes I had worn had soaked down to my skin with sweat.

I had just come inside to get some water and a light lunch as the sun rose high into the sky when I saw Lucien and Tamlin walking next to each other. It took another moment for them to notice me before Lucien patted Tamlin on the back, waving a simple good morning to me and slipped off to the side, out of my view as I heard the doors creak as he left.

I approached Tamlin, now both of us in the foyer, just as it was last night - sans the gore and grief-, as he nodded towards the front doors Lucien had just left out of. The door was open as I could see the white mare I always rode saddled, Lucien getting into the saddle of his black gelding, another gelding brought up which I assumed was for Tamlin. 

“Where to?” The first words I had spoken of the day, muffled as they were.

“Well, the instruments need some maintenance and a room prepared which will take the day , and my… meeting postponed” It was sweet the way he rambled if I still wasn’t presently trying to shove the image of slick blue skin washed in moonlight and blood from the forefront of my mind.

I smiled at Tamlin as I looked back at him, and he was offering his hand for me to grasp as we walked toward the horses.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

The grass on the knoll brushed past my skin like feathers as I plopped down in it, the nearly two hours of riding making my legs cramp. A hum in the air was lyrical as I laid back, stretching out my spine against the solid, cold earth while the two males grabbed whatever supplies they packed.  I could smell the sun warmed oak trees forming the glen around us.

Rushed whispers were exchanged behind me as I kicked off the boots I had been wearing, my socks accompanying them. Everything was right and bright and warm as I heard Tamlin approach me. Fluffs of dandelion tickled at my nose as I inhaled deeply, lavishing in the scent of snowdrops and bluebells. 

“We bought a blanket” A shadow fell over my face, and I cracked my eyes open to see Tamlin standing above me, halo-ed in a ray of afternoon sun. I saw Lucien just behind him, the emissary lowering himself to a lilac blanket laid adjacent to me, stretching his legs with a low groan. I hummed at Tam, in tune with the near silent melody around us, crooking my arms behind my head to act as a pillow and closed my eyes yet again. I heard a soft laugh before I felt a thump beside me, and felt a small shift in the air as he laid next to me.

A minute of delicate silence where I turned into the chattering of birds, my breathing slowing and matching with Tamlin as we both laid in the dappled sunlight coming through the canopy. My clothes were still damp with my sweat from both the ride and my work out, the sun slowly drying it against my skin. 

“Do you like it?” I was letting my mind drift to nothing when I heard the question. The question was quick, rushed like a child asking if you liked their drawing. I barely made sense of the words as I blinked my eyes open to the sky above.

“Hu-What?” I raised myself onto my elbows to turn over and look at him. Tamlin was sitting next to me, not laying like I had thought, a perfect god of spring and carnage as the metal fixings baldric that was constantly held across his chest was illuminated by sun. His eyes were the same swaying color as the grass under my fingers and his blonde hair burned like it was just tittering on the edge of becoming warm sunlight itself. 

“Do you like it?” His brows scrittched in a bit, and I saw his own open palm tighten slightly on the grass. Worried- this immortal fae was worried I didn’t like his picnic spot. I let my arms fall out from under me, gently letting my head thunk against the ground as I let out a small chuckle. I stretched my arms above my head again, squinting against the sun as I let out another groan. 

Letting my muscles melt into the dirt, I looked back at him, “Yes”.

Another honey glazed laugh of his, “Just ‘ yes ’? That's it?” 

A small satisfied nod from me just before I heard a small chuckle from the blanket. “Yes that is about it, I like it quite a bit. Though maybe you expect me to grovel for this oh so kind gesture from a High Lord?” While I wanted to relax I still needed to sow the seeds of me knowing information and blaming it on the Suriel.

“Ah- just some questions you had for the Suriel? Nothing of importance?” Maybe I wanted this friendship, the open communication I could start between the edge courts would be wonderful in the coming war. And maybe I was growing fond of the High Lord and his court, and was already starting to mourn the loss of their company when I returned to my own world. 

“They did tell me you like being brushed, and that certain High lords wouldn’t suffer from a flea bath once in a while.” I could feel the faux- appalled look through my closed eyes so potently I had to look, cracking open my eyes as Lucien started having a coughing fit to cover his laughs as Tamlin hollered toward the sky with barked out laughter.

“Bold talk to one’s High Lord, Feyre.” Lucien said from behind me as I rolled over to prop my chin in one of my palms.

“Bold? Wait till I say what that Suriel had to say about poor Luci” I  drawled out, like taunting a cat with a piece of string.

“Oh the money I would pay to hear what the Suriel has to say about Luci ” Tamlin had caught just enough of his breath from laughing to join in poking fun at his emissary. The pop of a cork from a bottle of champagne sounded just before the glugs could be heard as Lucien drank from the bottle.

I saw Lucien mumble under his breath, but before I could call him out on it there was a hand at my back calling my attention. I pulled myself into a kneel as Tamlin offered his hand, inclining with his head toward the glen or the cold stream that ran beside it that had been bubbling on by as we joked. 

“Come on.” It was a pure offer, and I was longing to glimpse the surprise I knew he had waiting for me as I grabbed his hand, hauling myself up with his help. I remained barefoot as Lucien stayed on the blanket, his hand lazily holding at the neck of the bottle he had opened. He waved his hand in a shooing motion as I felt a tug where I still clasped Tamlin’s hand. 

Tamlin’s long legs made me jog lightly to keep up as he led me through the trees. It was a long walk until we were creating a small hill, and the breath was ripped from my lungs as I beheld it. I dropped his hand that I had still been holding as I slowly started towards it, tall elms surrounding the glittering pool shading us. I was halfway down the hill before I broke into a run, shucking off my Tunic and undershirt as I made my way. I only paused for a moment as I got to the edge of it to take off my pants. 

Only in my underthings, I turned back to Tamlin who was still at the top of the hill. “Come on!” I shouted at him as I waved my arm in an exaggerated motion, impatient, “Let's go for a swim!” He started down the hill now as well, slowly peeling off his own tunic , with no undershirt, as he picked up mine from where they had been thrown as I made my way. 

He paused next to me, bright joy glinting in his eyes behind his mask, to undo his own trousers when I leaped into the glittering pool. It was magnificent as my head went under the surface just to bob up a second later with howling laughter at my lips. He was quickly in the water next to me, him treading water vertically while I floated along the surface.

It was cold and silver and filled every part of my soul that ached to swim as he waded next to me. I let out a deep breath, not caring of my exposed skin that kissed the air as he spoke to me.

“I was going to suggest a swim anyway,” A pause for a deep chuckle that reverberated through the starlight pool , “It was my favorite place to go as a boy.” A slight tone change coated in somber memories had me paying attention to something other than the non-water I was swimming in.

I blinked back physical starlight that clung to my eyelashes as I turned in the water. “I guess I jumped the gun just a little bit with it huh?” I saw the confusion in his eyes for a moment before I corrected my slip, “I got ahead of myself, though it ended up fine since you wanted to swim.” He laughed lightly as I swam up to him, curving behind him to straighten next to his opposite shoulder.

“Who taught you to swim?” He raised an eyebrow at me as he tracked me with his eyes. I fluttered my feet to put space between us to where we would be face to face.

“I don’t know, don’t remember a time I couldn’t swim.” A pause where I stopped wading, letting myself dip under, “What about you?”

“My mother,” He smiled fondly at a memory as he continued on, “she took me here, then chucked me into the water before following herself.” I smiled with him, the image making me chuckle.

While my eyes were closed with laughter he sent a splash of the shining silver at me. I yelped as it hit me, spitting out some that had gotten into my mouth, I cursed at him lightly under my breath as I wiped my lip with the back of my palm.

“There is a legend that says if you drink a cup of the water you will be happy till your dying days.” The laughing energy sombered just a bit, “Perhaps we both need a glass” 

I tried to re-up the spirit as I joked. “I say between us two, we can drain this puppy.” We both laughed half-heartedly as he swam closer to me, closing the gap I had been making sure to keep between us in a matter of moments. 

“What would be enough to make you happy ,Feyre?” He was staring at me now, deep green baring down on me to where I felt naked, exposed despite my lack of reservations and the opaque water hiding my form. I shrugged my shoulders slightly, mumbled I dunno as I shrunk into the water. 

“No idea at all?” He was taunting me now, much better at fixing the mood of the conversation than I. “What about the ringing of bluebells? Or a ribbon of sunshine? Or a garland of moonlight?” I hit his arm lightly and I laughed with him. I used the push back from the hit to go towards the edge of the pool, letting my toes find purchase in the soft silt that made up the embankment. 

I avoided the question I wanted to prompt him in return, not wanting to drag the mood down yet again as I settled in the shallows. He ducked under the water, coming up next to me as he shook his head.

I yelled at the spray, splashing back at him “Maybe you are a dog” I laughed at him as I wiped the splatter from my face. He shook his head more at me, obviously on purpose before he also settled next to me.

“How did your father lose his fortune?” I didn’t need to ask how he knew, the idea of the reasoning tickled the back of my mind.

“Sent ships with all our goods and investments to Barat,” I saw the look of quiet shock on his face, about to proclaim how the waters were dangerous, “He tried to cut straight across, lost everything, and with creditors circling like sharks…” I trailed off, letting him piece together the timeline, the wicked twist that his knee at turn at when he stood, even all these years later. 

It was not just the soft wind that brushed my skin that caused it to prickle, not as I remembered the night those creditors had come with their clubs. I had barely been here a month and the violence jared me enough to send me running to the woods the night after with nothing more than a kitchen knife.

“Before that, did your father travel a lot?” I looked at him with pinched eyebrows before I nodded my head. Nesta and Elaine told me stories of the trinkets their father would bring back every time he visited the continent. “Did you ever accompany him? I noticed your accent was strange for those from the mortal lands to the south.” 

I cursed myself as I pressed my lips together, I had let myself slip again. Enjoying the magic had caused me to relax and let out a twinge of my original enunciations . I came up with a lie quickly, hoping he couldn’t hear the pounding of my heart. 

“No, I picked up the accent from some officials that had business with my father before his downfall.” I shook my head lightly, as though I was laughing at my own memory, “Became good friends with some kids that had come along with them and I started mimicking them - not on purpose, I just didn’t have many other friends.” I wanted to curse and praise whatever gods were in charge of this world for my fabrication that seemed almost believable. 

Tamlin nodded his head, as though he understood. It reminded me that Tamlin and Rhysand had once been friends, and I wondered if there was a time where Tamlin had gained a new accent of his own. It then sparked the idea that each court may have a different intonation, then remembering of the deeper and warmer way Alis often spoke, maybe an accent of Summer Court. 

“When did you start hunting?” He was full of questions today, more than he had asked me in my entire stay there. 

“13, some time in the late winter or early spring.” I saw the why shining in his eyes before he could ask it, “Money was starting to run low, and I didn’t want to wait till it was all gone.” Half-true at best, I had set into those woods to escape and prepare against the coming trials.

“And who taught a thirteen year old girl to hunt?” There went the mood, all easy joy chased off like a fleeting animal.

“No one in particular, I mostly taught myself, or watched others until I figured it out. Some of the elders around the village saw me and taught me properly, but I never got much time with them.” It had startled me the first time a bent-over woman had offered to teach me to skin an animal properly. It was my second summer in this world when it had happened. It had set off a chain reaction, the old and crippled folk that ran the carts in the market every week vying to pull me next to them and teach me a new skill. It was one of those visits that Elain had come with me to market and a seamstress had pulled me to her cart to teach me how to mend the holes that had been forming in my shirt.

Elain sat with the woman for the whole day while I continued selling the pelts I had brought, and when I came back to her in the evening she pleaded with me to purchase her some threads. A few coppers later and Elain was bouncing down the street like a child who had been gifted a whole candy shop.

A similar trip where a widdler had brought me into his shop to teach me to carve steaks out of branches in order to secure my traps, Nesta following with a huff. He had shown me the simple shape and made me make it as well, but the widdlers wife had caught Nestas eye, where she sat in the back of the store carving ivory bone into delicate hair combs and pins. I had honestly forgotten Nesta in the store as I was focused on getting salt to cure some fish I had caught the day before, and only remembered as the sun was setting as I rushed through the streets to find her. I eventually found her with a chisel and carving knife in hand as she watched the widdler's wife adamantly carve away at the material to leave a sharp pointed needle.

“Such clever work for a child, I wonder what else you learned during all that time.” I still had cards up my sleeve, clever not a true show of it as I let one fall into my palm, plans slightly unfolding.

“I learned enough, just like I learned that fae lords like glamoring their guests.” A small chuckle from him as his fingers raised to lift my chin to him.

“Oh, did you also learn that to see Prythian one must give adequate payment to a High Lord?” Teasing, we were teasing each other for our own games.

“And what payment does the High Lord of Spring demand?” his thumb came to the edge of my mouth as he glanced down.

“A kiss” He smiled down at me.

“Oh oh oh, such a steep price. Might we not negotiate?” I was trying to dodge the kiss, staunch whatever bleeding emotion Tamlin was exhuding as his face grew serious in faux sternness.

“No, sorry, the price is quite set in stone.” I huffed at him.

“Well if it must be.” I pushed his hand down from my face, pushing back the wet hair that was clinging to my face and neck as I shifted closer to him.

“Close your eyes” he said on a half breath and I complied. I heard the movement of water as he came to tower over me, and his hands were at my face again, cupping up and under my ears as he tilted my head back. He must have felt my hammering pulse against his hand as his lips brushed my eyelids, no more than a whisper of soft skin before he was pulling back.

If the water had been a marvel before it was now on the way to becoming holy, devine. It had a new depth, new pulsing magic that sent small breezes scented of eternity against my skin. The green of the trees morphing into shades that threatened to addict me, convince me to never blink again if only for a moment more of looking at the sun glinting off of them.

And there was Tamlin, tanned skin now holding a gold sheen to it, his hair had transformed into spun morning sunlight as a soft radiant crown of the same sunlight hung just behind his head. I wanted to reach out and touch it, feel the texture of sun and spring and life, but his image flickered. In a moment he was back to normal and the newest part of my soul that took in the colors guttered at the loss.

“Why did you glamor yourself again?” I tried to keep the whine out of my words but it was inevitable, like taking a child’s halloween basket at the end of the night to ration out. But now I was the child as I pleaded with him.

“I thought it would make you more comfortable, me looking normal.” He plaicated me, his palms now facing to the sky.

“Don’t feel the need to,” I paused as I took a breath, and noticed the almost constant smell of metal was gone and replaced with florals that I could not distinguish, “I prefer to see you, not another mask.” I saw his shoulders tighten just a bit before the shimmering of his skin had returned, giving me enough time to take in the endless pools of green that he peered at me through. If his hair was sunlight his eyes were the trees under it, swaying into every shade I could see surrounding us.

I heard a symphony of music pouring from the woods around us, blending together into something intrinsically right. It was the same tune I had been humming along to at the hill, I realized as I turned from Tamlin.

“It's beautiful.” I didn’t need to say it, not as my body felt as though it had clicked into place and I kicked at the water again.

“Yes ,it is” His agreement was simple as I could feel his eyes on me as he let me take in the unlocked part of myself. Minutes, perhaps an hour passed before he spoke again. “What of your part of the bargin? Remember very strict rules.”

I let out a soft laugh as I came up next to him again, our knees brushing under the surface as I took his hand into mine. A quick peck to the back of the glowing skin had him howling towards the sky again. I pulled myself from the water and sat on the edge of the pool, my shins still submerged.

“You little cheat.” he accused me as I shrugged my shoulders.

“I thought you knew to only make specific deals, less someone twist you words.” 

“And I thought little mortal girls were supposed to be terrified of fae beasts.”

“Guess we were both wrong, huh you big puppy dog?” He splashed the starlight at me as I was scurrying back. We spent hours running around the small clearing around the pool, occasionally jumping back into starlight to cool off.

 Tamlin asked about my sisters, my father, and the village as we walked back. I was suspect if he was actually interested in my years in the woods, surviving, but I let it melt away as I prattled on about the half decade I spent learning every tree and stream that ran through those woods. He listened with a gentle glow of interest and content,  even as the sun lowered across the sky, kissing the tops of the trees, and continued to listen while I talked of the sisters as we walked back to the knoll where Lucien still lay

Chapter Text

The ride back to the manor was peaceful as I let Tamlin ride on ahead while I talked to Lucien. I was still admiring the new sights, sounds, and smells as he kept glancing at me through his periphery till we were shoulder to shoulder, at which point he turned to face me. 

“Luci?” The tone was bordering on accusatory and I didn’t bother hiding my snicker as I shrugged at him.

“You call him Tam, thought your name could do with some shortening as well.” A playful glare before he kicked at me lightly. I cackled at the sky, looking slightly guilty as I saw Tamlin glance over his shoulder to where we rode. 

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your gallivanting through the woods. I rather enjoyed all the wine you two left me with.” He had enjoyed it, the two empty bottles and another half drained as he splayed in the grass saying as much. His cheeks had been tinted a pink that made his amber eye glow with an inner flame, and along with a slight slur in his words, both Tam and I had come to the decision to cut Lucien off for the hour or two we still had of bright sunlight. 

He was sober enough now that all that remained was the faintest flush at the tips of those delicately pointed ears. I saw small pin pricked divots along them and wondered if Lucien had once worn jewelry in them. The thought gave life to a stunning image of Lucien draped in golds and blending orange and red fabrics standing next to Tamlin, also draped in gold but complemented with the veridian of swaying grasses and leaves. The sharp sting of guilt stabbed through me, ashamed for taking the place of Feyre, a woman who could have put that image to canvas in a way that I could never witness. I shoved down the festering feelings into a tiny box, throwing it somewhere to never be reopened and evaluated.

“Tam told me the first shot you took was to free the Suriel.” He lowered his voice as he spoke and I pulled my stare back forward.

“I did, seemed the right thing to do, after I trapped them and all” The words were tight as I straightened my back. 

The stare he gave me made my skin crawl, as though he was trying to figure me out. He also turned his head forward, keeping pace next to me still. “I know far too many High Fae and lesser faeries who wouldn’t have seen it that way—or bothered to.” A bejeweled hunting knife glittered in his hand for a moment before he lightly tossed it to me. I caught it, careful of the glinting edge blade as I admired the way the golden sunlight caught and refracted through the gems and off the metal. 

I knew Feyre had received the knife as an apology for Lucien not coming to her aid- but for me to get it left me perturbed. He saw my furrowed brow as I twisted the knife around.

“Figured if you got into more trouble you should at least have more than a broken bow to defend yourself.” I looked sheepish as I clung to the hilt tighter. “Not that I endorse you getting into trouble, but I have a feeling that’s not something we can prevent.” He waved a hand as he broke from me, trotting farther ahead. “The knife is yours, do with it what you wish as long as you don’t sink it into my back.”

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

The next weeks passed as I nestled into routine, getting fully adapted to seeing the faerie staff I had known had been there and the true faces of Alis and Tamlin, Lucien having glammored himself once Tam had told him. I would wake up early to fall back into my training, then I would go on patrol with Lucien after lunch. If Tamlin was free that day we would sit in his study and he would teach me the intricacies of music until dinner. After dinner we would each disperse around the manor, and I would often situate myself in a back alcove of the Library with a new book as I discovered more and more of Prythian. When both of them were busy and were pulled away from the manor to deal with some sort of Amarantha’s creatures I would hide myself in the library for the whole day, practicing those mental shields. 

Every night I would fall into a dreamless sleep, mind and body too exhausted to conjure up whatever my unconscious wanted me to dwell on. All before repeating it again, and again. My body was no longer skeletal but had turned into densely packed muscle that barely smoothed into a feminine shape. Every meal I ate was full of fat and protein and delicious fruits and pastas that I had been craving for the past 6 years but had no access to. 

I had also spent the endless spring days growing closer to Alis, talking to her about her boys, her life that had been in summer court. The world was comfortable during those days, despite the ever looming threat that no one would address. I laughed and joked and grew to hold these fae close to my heart, but still I kept a sliver of distance from Tamlin, not wanting him to have false hope for what we might become. But I saw it, saw the reason Feyre had loved the brutal warrior as he guided my fingers across the neck of the fiddle. Still I could not see past who I knew what he could be, but he was a friend. 

Now I was lounging in the library, one of those days where both fae males were gone on some business, with a heavy book I had spent the last 2 days working through. It had been tucked in a dark back corner, bordered off by a desk that I had pushed to the side to graze about, and described the anatomy of wings found on flying fae. I had skipped the section that depicted vast wings of shimmering blue and golds fashioned like those of butterflies, and was now rereading the section on Illyrian wings for the 6th time that day. 

My fingers traced the curves of bone, noting where the joints connected and how the membrane was highlighted with red and orange as though positioned in front of sunlight even on the page. I had taken to jotting down notes in some loose paper I had found, and now that my notes were adequate enough for me I slowly moved my way back through the tall stacks of books to put the book back. I slid it back in gently, taking mark of the row and shelf number as I stretched my arms above me, spine cracking from the bend as I sighed out.

I ate lunch in the dining room, not accompanied by Tam nor Lucien. I could see wisps of faeries carrying arm loads of wood and rock to some place out of my sight and grew jittery in my seat, knowing Calanmai was drawing nearer. I broke my routine as I snuck across the hills. My legs were burning by the time I crested the final hill to see the set circles of wood stacked high.

I watched from a distance, observing where the fires were placed, the ones that bordered the woods that spread far from the cave mouth I could see. I hugged against a tree to hide my figure from any eyes peering back. 

A voice spoke behind me “What are y-” I couldn’t control my arm that swung forwards as I whirled, fist shooting forward before I could take in the form of a blond High Lord. My bones rang as they reverberated against the metal mask. I unclenched my hand immediately, going to grab Tamlin’s head to check for any injury but he stepped out of my range.

“I’m sorry- I wasn’t paying attention and you startled me.”I blabbed as I tried to look as apologetic as possible. He shook his head, as if trying to shake off the sting of my hit before he gave me a tilted grin.

“Well it's a good thing you didn’t have Lucien’s hunting knife with you.” I hid a cringe at the thought of him knowing of that beautiful knife. He stopped looking at me and peered at the hills that sprawled past the tree line.

“They are setting up the bonfires for Calanmai- it’s in two days.” A jolt of excited energy ran through me. I turned to face the fires as well, pushing my cheek against the cold bark of the tree closest to me. I was so close to the male I truly wanted to meet.

“We don’t celebrate any of your fae holidays in the Human realm. Most places just don’t know what to celebrate, but others have it banned outright.” He must have taken the rest of my silence as a question as he spoke.

“It’s a spring ceremony, we light bonfires, and … the magic that we create helps regenerate the land for the year ahead.” I tried my best to hide the roiling in my gut as I remembered exactly how those High Lords gave magic back to the earth.

“Am I invited?” I said it with a twinge of a laugh as I knew his answer. I turned from the tree I clung to and started walking back toward the house, Tamlin beside me.

“No. You are not.” I glanced over my shoulder at the snarl in his words. “You’ll be safe in the house, but if you run into one before we light the fires at sundown in two days, ignore them.” I let my shoulder crumple in feigned disappointment, knowing full well I was going to disregard Tamlin’s order.  Still the tense energy that made his foot falls sound thunderous did not dissipate as we entered the garden I had snuck from. 

That tension shifted into something that sent my skin prickling , stagnating in the way that I had only witnesses in the presence of the wicked creatures of Prythian. A hand was at my back, Tamlin’s, as he pushed me towards a wall of hedges at the end of the path.

“Stay hidden, no matter what you hear.” He was gone before the last syllable finished ringing out to a command I was not going to disobey as a memory surfaced of the Attor that was about to descend to the gravel pathways. I quickly darted into the hedge, crouching as low to the ground as I could, trying to spread out my weight to sit silently.

Gravel crunched I recognized the pattern of foot falls of Lucien and Tamlin as they drew nearer. I pricked my ears further, to hear past them and hear the softest shuffle of gravel before Tamlin spoke.

“I know what day it is,” Tamlin said with a restrained snap, a beast on a leash. I peered through the leaves of the hedge as much as I could, seeing the empty space between the two of them.

From that empty space a voice rasped out, words hissing past through a forked tongue that I could only imagine. “Your continued behavior is garnering a lot of interest at court.”A pause for a slight drop in its hiss, becoming venomous and constricting in the air, “She has begun wondering—wondering why you haven’t given up yet. And why four naga wound up dead not too long ago.”

“Tamlin’s not like the other fools,” Lucein snapped back, shoulders pulled back like a true soldier that was so at odds with the laughing male I had become accustomed to. The way he clenched at his side made me wonder what other blades and weapons he possessed as he growled back, “If she expected bowed heads, then she’s more of an idiot than I thought.” 

Another hiss as the Attor spoke, just as the group rounded the corner where I hid in the bushes, “Speak you so ill of she who holds your fate in her hands? With one word, she could destroy this pathetic estate. She wasn’t pleased when she heard of you dispatching your warriors.” The voice now seemed turned toward Tamlin. “But, as nothing has come of it, she has chosen to ignore it.” I dared not even breathe for the moment they paused in front of me, terror clutching my lungs if they dared sell me out the beast I could not see outside of that forming in my mind’s eye.

A returning growl followed by the deceivingly calm words from Tamlin , “Tell her I’m getting sick of cleaning up the trash she dumps on my borders.” 

A twisting laugh as they started walking away from me again, “She sets them loose as gifts—and reminders of what will happen if she catches you trying to break the terms of—”

 “He’s not,” Lucien snarled. “Now, get out. We have enough of your kind swarming on the borders —we don’t need you defiling our home, too. For that matter, stay the hell out of the cave. It’s not some common road for filth like you to travel through as they please.” A rippling sound of agreement from Tamlin.

Again the Attor laughed and to resist the urge to curl up and weep I squeezed my eyes shut, grabbing at the closest image of comfort. I focused on the twinkling of stars against the currents as its voice weaved past my eyes. “Though you have a heart of stone, Tamlin, you certainly keep a host of fear inside it.” Its tone changed to crooning like a condescending mother. “Don’t worry, High Lord. All will be right as rain soon enough.”

 “Burn in Hell,” Lucien replied for Tamlin, and the thing laughed again before a flap of leathery wings boomed, but still I kept my eyes shut as I ignored the putrid wind that it had pushed towards me. A moment of silence before a hand tapped at my shoulder, startling me. Luckily I did not swing my arm back this time as I looked up at him.

“It’s gone.” The voice was hollow, slight exhaustion from whatever glamor he had put me in. I stood fully on slightly shaky legs as I righted myself around, moving into the pathway.

“What did you hear?” Lucien was coming around the corner, his arms crossed over his chest, and the demand in his voice shook more of that cold fear that had stilled my blood as I rolled by head, stretching my neck.

“Enough” I crossed my own arms across my chest, firm as I saw Lucien’s nostrils flare in agitation. He was turning, not to leave but to address Tamlin.

“If the Attor had seen her-”

“It didn’t”

“Are you certain? Because if it caught a whiff-”

“ It didn’t ” Tamlin finished with a growl before he was guiding me to the main garden doors with a large warm hand at the top of my back.

He dropped the hand once we made it past the threshold, “I’ll see you at dinner” the words were cut and had no warmth as he stalked down the hall, away from both me and Lucien. Lucien hustled through the doors, looking at me where I shrugged and nodded my head in the direction Tam had gone before he was gone as well, trudging after the High Lord.

Dinner was still a couple hours away as I made my way into my room, shutting the door gently behind me. I found myself standing in front of my amour, doors splayed open as I started to set aside tunics that struck my fancy. Alis had taken to stocking the closet for me after too many fights where I had complained about being able to dress myself and my still adamant stance on only wearing shirts and pants.

She had caved eventually, still demanding I allow her to do my hair in the mornings, and had given me a wide selection of Tunics, under shirts, and a multitude of different types of pants. Now infront of me stood a rainbow of cloth that I rummaged through. 

I found the perfect outfit after nearly an hour, folding and hiding the clothing under my mattress before hanging up the rest of the clothes I had taken down.

Chapter Text

The next day passed with no word from either Lucien or Tamlin, which left me with a whole day to sit in the library until Alis fetched me for a lonely dinner that I left from as quickly as possible.

The morning of Calanmai had my blood thrumming since the moment I had woken up, a book denting my side from where I had fallen asleep on top of it. I stayed in my room until late morning, dressing in the clothes I had hidden after a boiling bath that left my skin radiating steam. 

Alis weaved my hair into a crown after a late lunch, speckled with wildflowers that I hadn’t registered her placing between the strands. Now I stood in front of the mirror, looking at my face framed with petals of daisies and small blooms of  yellow chrysanthemums. It didn’t fully compliment my clothes, though I supposed they were meant to make me look more like I belonged in Spring Court while my clothes were a subtle opposition to it.

My eyes moved from the flowers held around my head and down to the outfit that adorned me, despite Alis’ protests when she had seen me that morning. Flowing dark cotton pants, just shy of black with the complimenting white thread that hemmed it, the cuffs at the ankles gathering the fabric in elegant pleats that dispersed as the pants traveled up farther. Ties held the waistband close to my skin. Where the waistband ended just below my navel, an equally flowing blouse started, hanging from my shoulders where it had no sleeves, the side of my arms bare to the open air where they showcased the speckling of freckles that had formed from countless hours in the perpetual spring sun. The blouse shimmered silver with soft casts of blue and purple only to be seen when catching light at certain angles. 

I looked positively Night Court, if it wasn’t for those yellow and white sparks at my head ,that I was starting to convince myself they looked like burning stars. I looked back at Alis, grinning in a way that had her face pinching.

“I do wish you would let me put you in a dress, if only just once.” I scrunch my nose at her playfully before I adjusted an imaginary piece of stray hair. The first thump of a drum from across those rolling hills beat sent my heart fluttering.

I shooed Alis off, telling her to enjoy the Rite and that she deserved the night off. She was reluctant untill she was past the door of my room, at which point she gave a shallow dip of her head accompanied with a thank you before she disappeared down the hall. I closed the door behind her, rushing over to the window and drawing back the curtains that dampened those thunderous beats.

One beat, a call, followed by two quickly after one another, an answer. They called for whoever may be to come to them, to revel in them, but I resisted, if only for now. I sat down in the chair that usually belonged to the breakfast table, and let the rays of sun that were still high in the sky warm the back of my shoulders as I slipped on my usual boots that hugged close enough to my leg to not disrupt the pleats of the pants as I hid them. 

I was alone for maybe 30 minutes before I heard a knock on my door. I got up slowly and opened the door as casually as I could, hopeful my plans weren't compromised. Tamlin stood there, baldric across his bare chest as he heaved a breath, shifting the red fletched arrows that sat just behind his shoulder. I watched him as he looked back at me, each assessing each other's attire.

“Can I help you with anything Tam?” I said with the sweetest voice I could, as naturally as I could, as his eyes raked down the blouse. More specifically to the tanned cleavage that was exposed from the top buttons being undone as I had been pacing with anticipation sparked anxiety.

His voice was gruff as his eyes traveled back to meet mine, catching at my lips for a moment that I did not miss. “Stay in the house, no matter what tonight. Lock your door even, tonight is not a night for human company amongst faeries.”

I nodded my head, slightly shielding my body behind the door that was still just partially opened as I did so. “I will keep that in mind High Lord, enjoy the Rite.” I moved to fully shut the door, but his hand caught it.

“I mean it Feyre, stay in your chambers” He retracted his hand and was already gone as I peered through the crack in the door at the hallway. I loosed a tense breath and backed away from the door as I let it click shut. I moved back towards the window just in time to see Tamlin stalking through the garden.

Predator, pure predator as he moved, quickly disappearing to where the first trails of smoke swirled in the sky. I let the cooling spring night air kiss my face, carrying the twinge of smoke and the growing scent of rose and cut grass as I still stared to where those bonfires now burned.

I let night fall, let the thumps of the drums guide me as I let time slip by as I moved my feet, finding an old rhythm as they called for me. Come it whispered into my blood, Come See . My stomach growled as I drank water from the pitcher that had become a constant companion on that breakfast table. I let hours tick by, occasionally falling to my bed to scream into one of the pillows whenever the emotions boiling in my chest became too much.

10 o’clock hit as I was running out of the garden doors, dark cloak billowing around me as I was halfway careful to not cause too much noise as I snuck into the stables. Ceres, the white horse I had been riding since my first day in spring, already had her head lounging out of the stall, eager for treats as she heard my feet. Luckily I had taken to riding her bareback on patrols, and was quickly atop her.

With no need for a guide she set off, a soft trot over foot hills. I sat low on her back, pulling the hood of the cape as far forward as it would go to hide the smooth arches of my ear. The scent of smoke and flowering blooms was quickly growing stronger as I brought Ceres to the edge of the gamepark woods that I had hidden in two days before. I dismounted from her and she understood my intention as she found a comfortable spot in the wooded grasses to lay down in.

I could not see the faces of the faeries around me as I passed, that dense glamor still in my senses as I skirted around the edge of those blazing flames. Past the drums, past the mingling faeries around the mouth of the shadowed cave, to stand by the tree line, still just barely in the glow of the fires.

I waited, ignoring the faeries around as I watched the flickers of flame from my distance. Minutes passed where nothing happened and my legs were starting to tingle. A grumble as I shifted the weight on my legs, and of course it was the moment I felt ready to complain about the waiting when a hand grabbed me and spun me around.

Three pict males were behind me, two flanking the central one grasping my arm, who smiled down at me, revealing pointed teeth. “Human woman,” he murmured, running an eye over me, my free hand itching to gather the fabric of the cloak to cover wherever his eyes touched. “We’ve not seen one of you for a while.”

I was doubting my plan as I tried to shake his hand from my arm as I looked at the two behind him. “Leave me alone Bastards” that gripped tighten as he pulled me further towards him.

“Why? Can we not enjoy some fire night revelries with such a sweet prize ” Fiery fear lit my veins as I definitely knew this was a mistake. Another pict hand pulled my hood back before plucking a flower from the braid that was still twisted at the top of my head. 

I cursed at them, “Let me go.” I did my best to hiss at them, ripping my still free arm away as I felt fingers ghost at the skin.

“Bold words for a human on Calanmai.” The third one hissed in my ear as it caught the arm I jerked away as the one in front of me. “Once the Rite’s performed, we’ll have some fun, won’t we? A treat—such a treat—to find a human woman here.”

That one in front of me, the ring leader, placed its other hand at my hip, roving up to the skin under my blouse at my waist. I did not hesitate the moment I felt the thin fingers at my skin as I slammed my head forward, knocking our heads together with a crack. The hand jerked away as the owner grabbed at his head, his other hand still at my arm tightening painfully as I saw a small well of black blood on its forehead. I smiled at the small victory for having a hard head before more hands were on me, restricting as much as leading me towards the woods.

I pushed back, kicking at the shin of the one that held me, but those fingers did not loosen. I pulled back, broadcasting the fear of a cornered animal around me as the hands on me tightened, bruising now as I was slowly tugged towards the forest line. I dug the heels of my boots into the ground while I twisted my arms and torso around, trying to break from their grip.

Two twin lines of ripped grass followed behind us as I resisted more. I kicked at them more, trying to rip my arms away from their bruising grips, but every time I knocked a hand away, another was somewhere else, sharp nails scratching at my skin. He was supposed to be here already, swooping in like Prince Charming saving a Damsel as that tree line grew nearer and nearer, meters turning to feet.

One of the hands landed over my mouth as I went to shout at them, and on impulse I opened my mouth and bit down on two of those bony fingers, oily blood spilling into my mouth as bone crunched. The creature shrieked as I spat the vile blood out of my mouth, sputtering as the two others faltered, two hands pushing me towards the shadows as another one faltered at seeing its ilk cradle a mangled hand. My legs knocked together and with the open space behind me, I fell.

The expectation of stony dirt under me was replaced by a large hand under each of my arms. I tilted my head back and couldn’t control the smile that spread across my face at the glimpse of violet eyes under neatly slick black hair. He eased me back to my feet as the faeries stared with wide eyes at the presence of the High Lord behind me.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” His voice eased the pounding of my heart, replacing it with a new fear that simmered at my skin. Rhys’ hand shifted from my side as he took a step to stand next to me, a warm arm draped over my shoulders. I resisted the urge to turn my head up at him, at least not while I kept my eyes on the three soon to be dead faeries in front of us.

“Thank you for finding her for me,” he said, and if his voice was so smooth that the silk of my tunic felt like burlap against my skin,“Enjoy the Rite.” Threat loomed in his words as the males stumbled back, turning and pushing against each other as they scurried like rats back towards the fire.

With them gone I let my shoulder sag just a bit and twisted in Rhys’ arm, enough to keep its comfortable place and for me to peer up at him.

I had imagined him beautiful for years, but even after months of adjusting to the Fae beauty of Lucien and Tamlin my breath was stolen from my lungs. Short black hair gleamed under the barest flickers of fire light, his pale skin contrasting it like the moon in the night. I wanted to wince at the wane look of his skin, knowing the deep tan it should be holding if not for Amarantha holding him in her claws. But still I admired his sharp features, shadows pooling to smooth out the exhaustion that coated every beautiful feature. He looked me up and down, sensual and calculating at the same time.

I would never be able to chase his image from my mind, not as I slept, not as I woke, and definitely not as I spoke to him.

“Oh shit- hey.” I stuttered out, and I looked into his eyes and thanked every god I could and couldn’t name that I had made Tamlin de-glamor me as I stared into star-flecked night. They were blue, deep and unending as they twinged with violets and indigo, their depth speaking of light years as small splatters of silver peered through at me. Amusement sent the stars in his eyes shivering, twinkling like diamonds held on invisible strings. 

“What is a mortal woman doing here on Fire Night?” Each word sent shivers licked up my spine at the lover's drawl coming from his mouth as he continued to bare his eyes into me. A smirk teased the corner of his lips as I replied.

“Enjoying the revelries before those pict bastards thought my presence was an open invitation,” I said, the words clipped and irritated as I dusted faked dirt from my pants and tunic. I spat out another wad of black tinged saliva as I inspected myself, hoping I would not have any lingering bruises from where they had gripped me.

“Oh, such profanity from such a lovely mouth. A mouth that I’m sure you know how to use if the hand of one of those bastards was any tell.”A pause where he stepped back and evaluated me. I tried to stand taller as he spoke again, “How does a mortal woman end up here on Fire Night?” I tried my best to look casual as I shrugged.

“My friend brought me, we live near.” Obvious lies that echoed Feyre’s. I knew he wouldn’t buy them, knew they would entice him as I saw echoes of pulsing shadows behind him, festering in his own cast light.

“And who is this friend?” Despite him not moving it felt as though he was leaning over me.

“No one you would know, but we will be staying for a few days, just for the celebrations.” I had my string cast and was slowly reeling it in with a giant shark at the other end of it. A moment of silence, both of us contemplating what to say next. Luckily I was not the one who had to break it,

“You're welcome.” He said as he looked away from me, picking at a non-existent piece of lint from his black tunic, “For saving you.”

It was enough for me to joke, set up a repertoire that I saw past that concrete mask, “Saved me? You must be mistaken, I think you saved those picts from me.” I pushed back the side of the cloak, revealing a low belt that held a glittering hunting knife. “Truely a stain on the world, males like that.”

I knew there was no guilt for the life of those bastards, still I reassured as a half cocked grin pulled his cheek back. I wished I could see him lively, with his family, a full grin across that achingly beautiful face filled with the color of sun and his wings spread and free. I realized I would sacrifice it all for him to have that, for the rest of Prythian to have that freedom, even if I was lost to the sands of eternity to achieve it. But I would let myself have tonight, an easy night where I could pretend the male in front of me wasn’t destined  to someone else, someone I had replaced.

“I’ll remember not to save you next time, less I end up the one with the knife in me.” A mocking tilt of his head down, not a bow but close enough with the court eyes I knew watched for him. “Aren’t humans usually terrified of us? And aren’t you, for that matter, supposed to keep to your side of the wall?”

The question only caught me off guard for a moment before I waved a hand out dismissively, “So are you fae but plenty of you slip through anyway, at least I came to enjoy wine and food.” Wrong, my stomach felt hollow since I had skipped dinner in my impatience and was staunchly sober as I did not trust whatever was held by those tables I had seen faeries congregate as I slipped by the edges of the firelight.

“Food and drink will take a long while to come back. May I escort you somewhere in the meantime?” The beats of the drums steadied my heart as I looked at the arm he had offered me. Time was drawing near to where I had to flee back to the house, away from the High lord that was coming back from his hunt. I took the arm he offered, leaning against the warmth of the muscle I could feel beneath it.

“No thank you, I think I will turn in soon.”I saw a flicker of disappointment across his eyes, and knew I couldn’t walk away, not yet, “Though, I do think it would be a shame if I did not get a dance with my knight in shining armor.” I looked at his clothes, fine and pitch black, and unclipped my cloak to fold it just inside the glow of firelight. His tunic had silver threads at the seams, an inversion to the blouse I wore myself. He grinned down at me as he stepped back, his hand falling into place with mine before he spun me along with the music.

 Though I knew this was dangerous for him, I flowed along with him. His hand was at my waist and I held his other as we fell deeper into the shadows of the woods, branches above us. Gaps in the leaves showed shining stars as my neck craned back and I laughed out to the sky. It was fun to let go, to enjoy the company of a male I knew I could trust.

 His hands tightened against me, urging me to look back at those violet eyes. If the stars above truly were souls from the afterlife, I would not think it so cruel for me to become one of the ones held in his eye. His arms swept wide and we seperated for a moment, his hand guided me into a twirl. I felt the wind kiss at the skin that was revealed as the movement caught the silver fabric, careening it around me. I savored the cold kiss as he twisted me back in, his arm settling back down at my waist.

I bumped my hip, sliding his arm back to where I could now clasp both hands. This time I pulled him with me as I twisted, our feet hit the ground with heavy thumps that complimented the drums, and I almost recognized the beat to a song before a hand was pulling me away from him. I let out a small cry of shock at the loss of those warm hands before I was being placed behind a familiar male body, a wall of frazzled red hair before me.

Lucien was now holding me, pushing me behind him slightly as he looked at Rhys. “You were not invited, Rhysand.” He snarled it out and I tried to soothe a hand down his arm before he turned to me slightly, his metal eye staying fixed on Rhys. I saw those starry eyes sharpen at Lucien's bristle before he was smoothing out his shirt.

“I wasn’t aware that Calanmai had become private, Emissary.” Cold words, any warmth from his interactions with me gone. Still they held that feline tilt as Lucien still walled between us. I could feel the tension rising as Lucien paused, and interjected myself.

“I should not have asked you for a dance when I was already taken. Enjoy the Rite, sir.” A stiff nod from Lucien and I was pulling him away from Rhys, into the crowd of lesser faeries again. Lucien took over the path we were taking the moment we entered the swelling crowd, taking us to the opposite side of the celebration, back towards the game park. 

“What were you thinking, Feyre?” His voice was seething as his grip on my arm tightened.

“I was thinking that I deserved to party along with everyone else.” I pulled the mask of an indignant mortal girl over myself as I ripped my arm from his grasp and crossed it across my chest.

“Idiot!” He was shouting now and a few faeries on the fringe looked towards us. “You were told to stay in your rooms! You useless Human fool.” I couldn’t protest as I was shucked over his shoulder. I pounded at his back as wind tore past us as he was running back towards the manor. The drums faded into the distant as their speed changed, beats closing in on eachother. I had been so lost in enjoying the small glimpse of Rhys that I had lost sense of time, lost sense of being.

Lucien only stopped running once we were in the manor, the grand hallway before us as he set me down. His hair was messy as he looked at me, anger making the personal glamor he had over himself shift for just a moment, hair blazing and eyes going molten. 

His hands were at my shoulders as he lightly shook me, “You idiot! Didn’t he tell you to stay in your rooms?” Shame burned my ears and cheeks red like when I had come home past curfew.

I bowed my head as I apologized, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” I looked back up at Lucien as his hands fell away from me, and found him rubbing at his temples.

“Go to your room, I have to go back out there and try and keep the blood spill to a minimum for when he smells you but cannot find you.” I did feel bad as I apologized again, he left and I half ran to my room, not knowing how far off Tamlin was.

I locked my door that night, closing the window that was almost always open, and slid one of the heavy bedside tables in front of the door. I fell asleep reading of herbs found in each court, alert for any sound. I had multiple hours of quiet sleep before a snarling in the halls roused me. I only quickly made sure the lock was in place along with the table before I slept again, a soft hum of a lullaby blocking out the occasional scrape of sharp claws against a distant corridor wall.

Chapter Text

I woke from soft dreams of starry nights and brisk winds to a silent house, servants still resting from long nights of partying. My legs and arms ached from the night previous, and as I pulled myself into the bathroom I saw the deep purple bruises in the obvious shapes of pressing fingers along my arms. I groaned as I drew a bath that I used to scrub the sweat from the night before away. I was slow as I lounged in the bath, I had made it to a major landmark in the story and had avoided the worst parts of the night. Self satisfied content made me lazy as I only left the water when it had gone cold and my fingers were pruned.

Slow movements guided me to the armoire and maybe it was that content that allowed my hands to drift to a soft, sweet, sundress. Maybe it was also the fact that I was too lazy to deal with the clasps and ties that all faerie clothing seemed to over complicate as I slipped it over top of me. Thin straps of white that flowed down to the powder blue dress. White lace hemmed it, and the new tan my skin held complimented it well. My eyes still stared at the dark bruises on my arms and I grabbed a sheer white shawl where it hung in the closet, just enough to cover but not draw attention.

 While I did not have the agile fingers of Alis I was still able to do a simple plait down the center of my back. I looked into the mirror and felt simple, light. It was the closest I had gotten to being in my own skin since I had first come here, and I wanted to relish in it as I slipped on complimenting white slippers that were crammed in the back corner of the armoire.

I finally left my room, padded feet slowly sliding down the halls as I followed the smell of food towards the dining room, it having already become late enough in the day that lunch was served. I heard clipped conversation as I drew closer to the cracked doors and I slowed my pace even more as I crept closer, eavesdropping.

“-have been out, much less with him .” Lucien was saying and I heard the growl from deeper within the room, Tamlin. “I know, but she is becoming more suspicious. That’s why her lackies keep showing up.”

“We will not give them more reason to suspect, so if your worrying does us no good. I cannot change the fact that he saw her, that he probably told her, but we can make sure the patrols are more frequent.” Tamlin’s words were short and still held a growl like he had not fully repressed the beast beneath his skin.

“The men are already over worked with patrols, you cannot expect them to do more without some part suffering.” Lucien was pleading as I leaned farther in, trying to hear it easier as I got closer, careful of each inching slide I took against the tiles.

“What do you want me to do Lucien? I can’t fix this, or rush the girl. Feyre doesn’t need to be worried about this as well when she trains as though a war is coming already.” I stopped my breathing, I hadn’t realized word of my training had truly reached Tamlin, that he knew I was preparing for something.

“War will be coming, Tam. Especially if you get caught by her .” Tensions were building and if I didn’t step in soon I had a feeling something, or someone, would end up very, very broken. I shuffled back a couple feet, focusing on keeping my movements silent in a dress that I didn’t hear the next sentence of the conversation. I lifted my foot and set a casual pace as I made way for the center of the doors, pushing my way in.

Their conversation fell silent the moment I had taken that first step, and now both of their gazes were zeroed in on me as I took my seat. A plate and cutlery was already laid out for me as I started adding food to my plate. I smiled prettily as I looked up at the two of them.

“Did I interrupt something?” Innocent, I was so innocent as I asked, no hint of the words filed away to a corner of my mind to be sewn into my plans. Neither of them answered my question as Lucien looked pointedly at Tamlin, then at my dress. Tamlin seemed to get the hint as he slightly shook from his stupor, his gaze locking with Lucien’s for a moment.

“You look… pretty today.” It was as close to a compliment the socially inept high lord was going to get so I smiled brighter at him, all warm sunshine and murmured a thank you before I started to slowly eat some gnocchi. The rest of the lunch went quietly, smoothly before we all departed into our separate directions, normal.

I found my way into a nook of the library I had become fond of, warm sunlight coming through a small window just perfectly to warm a pillow I propped my slippered feet on. Some staff must have figured out I liked this bench as there had been a blanket there for the past week, plush and buttery smooth that absorbed the warmth perfectly as I drapped it over my lap. I had a small book today, images of flora and fauna of the Winter Court.

I had an hour by myself before blond hair was next to me. Tamlin had just walked into my periphery and I moved my stretched legs, tucking them up and under me. He took the invitation to sit as I closed the book and hummed a greeting at him. I had expected him to be angry at me for sneaking out yesterday, but his eyes were focused somewhere else, on my arms. 

I had shrugged off the shaul once I came into the library, and now those purple circles were on display where my forearms were crossed over the cover of my book. I quickly tucked my arms behind the book, but the damage was done.

His hands were grabbing at my wrist, pulling them from where I had hidden them as a low snarl built in his throat. “Who d-” I didn’t let him finish.

“Some picts, they were dealt with.” I pulled my hands from his loosened grip and let them fall into my lap, “It’s my punishment for sneaking out last night. I’m sorry for whatever that is worth.” I tried not to think about the growling and scrapping that had woken me last night, not as burning emerald eyes found mine when I looked up.

“I was wild last night , the magic in control, not me. It tried to find you, but found someone else when it couldn’t.”A shuddering breath from him, “You made me crazy Freyre, but I do not think you need anymore punishment.” I pulled my legs back farther, skin pricking with apprehension at the admission from Tamlin. “I was coming here to see if you were interested in a music lesson but if my presence isn’t wanted I will leave.”

Now it was my turn to grab his wrist as he went to stand. “I would love a lesson, I think my mind is about to melt from my ears if I look at any more words.” A lie, I had just gotten to an interesting section of the herbaceous plants and their medicinal uses. But Tamlin seemed deflated as he went to move and I couldn’t leave the tension as it was.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in front of a grand piano, songs worming their way into my head as the keys fell beneath my fingers. If I started humming words to songs that did not exist in this world Tamlin did not make any comment about it. Dinner was fun, Lucien there and tension dissipated enough that we all cracked jokes at each other, me and Lucien getting into a small food fight with the roast potatoes and carrots.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

Four days of peace where I fell into the usual routine, ignoring the pointed gaze of Lucien every time he saw my bare arms. Tamlin had been around more, and everyday I had practiced a new instrument. I joked with him that soon we could be a 2-man traveling minstrel pretty soon and he howled so much that a painting had rattled in his study and I had to smack his arm to shush him.

The peace was shattered when I woke one morning, softly rising from soothing dreams of nothing but warm dark rest. I had gone to the garden for my usual training and it was there, piked on the beak of a heron about to take off into flight. Blood soaked the front of the heron, gorey and ruby red, and I was silent as I stared and stared, unable to rip away from it as the empty eyes of the dead fae seemed locked with mine. His mouth was in a permanent scream as the tip of the beak protruded from his mouth. 

Brown empty eyes swallowed me where I stood, and I shifted my foot back, sliding against the gravel. I was striding back into the house quickly as I saw Lucien and Tamlin rushing down the steps of the garden. They both stalled their steps as I moved between them, Tamlin moved forward toward the fountain the moment I passed between them, obviously on a direct path inside and away from those brown eyes that I could still feel bearing into me. Lucien hesitated for a moment more, a half step in my direction before following after Tamlin.

I hid in the library, half running down the long rows down the book shelves until I found a dark corner I could hole myself into until lunch or dinner. Lucien only came to me in the early night, telling me Tamlin was called to the border for the night and was still alive. I moved to my room when a servant came to light a candle near me once it had gotten to dark to read comfortably.

I was in my room reading for a couple more hours , physically not exhausted but metal facilities faltering as words blurred and shifted on the page. I grew frustrated as I shut the book I had and half tossed it onto my bedside table, throwing myself down onto the mattress with a groan. My eyes were burning as I relished in the dark behind my eyelids for just a moment. 

It was late and Summer solstice was in the morning, Rhysand coming back to the manor the day after that and I could not sleep, even as I tried to drain myself by washing more layers of mental shields atop the ones that held near constantly. I groaned again as I lifted myself from the mattress, changing into night clothes and put out all the small flames that lit the room. Cold shadows ushered themselves in, shying from the silver moon light coming from the window.

I laid in bed for an agonizing amount of time where sleep did not come to claim me. I was left with my thoughts as I whispered to those shadows small memories from before, reassuring as I remembered them and kept telling myself it was real, that my family was still real somewhere. 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

Summer solstice was there when I awoke, merry music carried on warm winds as ribbon fluttered in the garden, the fountain clean of any ruby blood as bows of fluttering fabric now adorned it. Maypoles in the distance were being erected and fires set up, if the ones from Calanmai were ever even cleaned up.

Alis was there quickly, helping me dress in light tunic and pants despite her pleading for me to wear another dress like she had heard down the grapevine of staff that had come out of their quarters that day. I still heard the ringing shrieks of offense she had greeted me with the next morning when she found out I had finally worn a dress. Still I dressed in pants and an indigo tunic before I found my way into the gardens. 

My time under the mountain was drawing ever nearer, and if this was to be one of my last days in the Spring Court I was not going to stall my training. I ate a large breakfast alone after I was exhausted. Still my fingers drummed with excess energy as my legs protested every step I took away from a chair, and I found myself in Tamlin’s study. My fingers roved across the multitude of instruments we had been cycling through during my weeks here.

I picked up the fiddle, and maybe it was the empty loneliness nestled next to the burning excitement that also had me pulling the bow across the strings. An old song that I used to sing with my father on road trips came from my fingertips. Minutes melted to hours as I cycled through old songs foreign to this world but weaved into my soul, comforting memories flowing with them. 

Maybe tonight I would play with Tamlin, one last hurrah before I had him sending me away the moment Rhys was gone. My fingers stuttered at the thought and the screech the strings made had me wincing as I pulled the instrument from under my chin, setting it down gently. I couldn’t break the curse now even if I tried, I didn’t love Tamlin. The peace I had been relishing in for weeks was a facade to both of us and I had to die for his court to be free, for him and all of Prythian to be free. I was still staring down at where I placed the fiddle when a timbre voice came from behind me.

“I thought I was just about to catch a personal concert.” Tamlin was in the doorway of the study, having come back from whatever part of the border he had been at. Words caught in my throat as I stuttered over an apology for coming into his office but he waved me off, picking up the fiddle himself.

“Where did you learn those songs? I don’t think we went over them during our lessons.” It was genuine and I felt my ears burn as I came up with a lie.

“I heard them while in the village, when a traveling band would come through. Figured I could try to play them just a bit.” I looked at him and he was readying the bow against the strings, with the first stilted notes I raised my hands in front of me, waving them to try and get him to stop. 

He looked sheepish as he looked at me and I sighed, the invitation clear as I started to teach him the songs. It took him an hour or so to get used to the tempos and structuring of them. We were about to move onto a new song, me leaning over a table while I scribbled on paper to explain the piece to him, murmuring the words to the song to remember it properly when Lucien came to fetch us as the sun set low in the sky, the celebrations about to begin.

“I am invited this time, right?” I joked as I straightened myself, preparing to go to my room and freshen up for a long night of partying where I could get rip roaring drunk for the last time.

“Yes, Solstice is for drinking and dancing, all safe for human participation.” Lucien leaned against the door as he spoke, casual as he seemed to already be dressed for the party, fine plum red tunic complimenting the gold jewelry hanging from his wrists and neck. I was only slightly disappointed that no jewelry hung from his ears as I bumped into him.

“Can’t wait to see your two left feet Luci, maybe you can dance with Tam to spare my toes.” I slid past him as I heard a chuckle from him and a laughing groan from Tamlin as he protested the noble sacrifice of his feet. I let joy swell in my chest, smiling so much my cheeks ached as I went to my rooms. One more day, then back to the mortal realms where I would brief my sisters and come back to Prythian, back to the manor to hopefully have Alis guide me. 

I contemplated my specific plans as I let Alis braid my hair with pastel wildflowers, and let her put me in a pale gray chiffon dress, just shying into a light purple as I stood in the setting sun. I laced up boots under the dress, Alis allowing for the compromise even as she huffed as I did so. I hugged Alis tightly before I was trotting down the hall and stairs where Tam and Lucien were waiting for me.

A whistle from Lucien had me flushing as they looked up at me, “Cauldron above Feyre,” He nudged Tamlin with an elbow who was still staring up at me as I hit the bottom of the stairs, “She looks positively Fae, doesn’t she Tam?” Another hard jab in Tamlin’s ribs.

“You do look rather lovely, Feyre.” Tamlin still didn’t look away from me as he offered a hand to me.

“Thank you, both of you, but I do believe we have a party to get to that you are wasting away.” I grabbed Tamlin’s hand and grabbed Lucien’s forearm and pulled them towards the doors. I dropped their arms as we made our way across the property, foregoing horses as we came across a plateau where it looked like a small festival was set up. The sky was red and the fires were just starting to be lit as I surveyed the table of food lined against one edge of the area.

The faeries already lined up at the food table stared at me, half of them polite enough to quickly dart their eyes away and the other half turning to someone at their side to whisper into their ears. So many forms were lined there, male and female as the multitude of unearthly skin tones blended together where they all mingled in their finery. Tamlin’s warning growl had the rest of the gazes still ogling me turn away in a moment as I queued up in line. Tamil and Lucien disappeared somewhere into the crowd as I grabbed food from the Tables. 

I ate mostly fruit, juicy and sweet from a warm growing season as it always was, as I weaved my way through the crowd. Music was coming from somewhere on the plateau but I let it fall into the background for now as I set down my now empty plate in favor of joining in with a group of smokey skinned females that were dancing around the maypole. I felt parched and made my way to a seperate table where cups of sparkling golden wine sat. I was reaching out for one of the cups when a voice drawled behind me.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” Lucien was next to me, drawing my hand away from the table. I hummed an acknowledgement at him as I reached for a glass again. “You wouldn’t drink wine at dinner with us but you want to drink fae wine on a solstice? Crazy woman.” Still I grasped the cold glass and smelled the bubbling wine.

Sweet summer nights filled with fruit trees blossoming and cold rivers filled my nose and my tongue almost darted out to taste it as Lucien warned again. “I’m warning you, for real this time.” I glared at him over the edge of my drink

“Last time including you drugging me with forest berries.” I had been hallucinating for a whole afternoon when he offered me a hand of deep purple berries that reminded me of blackberries. They were pointedly not as Lucien howled at my ramblings of dragon clouds spewing a rain of ice, all until Tam pushed him into the reflection pool. I tilted my hand back deliberately to drink at the wine but Lucien reached out for it and I had to dance out of his grasp.

“I’m being serious Feyre, Tam would have my head if he saw you drinking that.” I shrugged my shoulders as I took long steps backwards, far from his grasp as I tilted the lip of the glass against my lips and gulped. The wine was gone in a moment as I tilted my head further back, licking for any drop of the liquid that was burning my veins with bright starlight.

I couldn’t breath as I dropped the glass from my mouth and howled in laughter as explosions rictoched across my veins. Lucien’s face had fallen the moment I had tipped the glass against my lips and now he groaned as he followed me. I skipped along the wind as I saw him again, the glamor he held over himself gone for me to stare directly at that beauty. Dripping embers formed his hair and his eyes burned with the same fire. I frowned at him.

“Why do you glamor yourself? You are far too pretty.” I crossed my arms as I looked up at him. He was turned from me,from apologizing to some fae male for some reason .

“Cauldron boil me Feyre,” but he was distracted for the moment and another glass of wine was in my hands and down my gullet. Another round of those star-flamed fireworks erupted across me. Where I had danced on wind with one glass, I became wind with the second. Wind and music as I flowed, gone from any mortal grasps of stress that had withered me for so long. I felt like a flower in bloom, for one long beautiful night I was in bloom. The jeweled colors of the sky was gone, bled into indigo ink that convinced me I could rest as one of the stars, swimming in the endless sky for eternity as I twinkled. 

Rhysand’s eyes stared at me as I floated somewhere up, up, and up. I sang with the night, with the stars, and with the notes of music that drew me in like a moth to flame. Dancers joined me along the way, or I joined them, and I was singing loud lyrics to songs I hadn’t heard since prom, silted and odd sounding as they were on classical instruments. I was the atoms that rang with vibrations as an arm caught me, a hand at my arm pulling me from my path. 

“Damn it, Feyre,” Lucien said, gripping me. “Do you want me to kill myself trying to keep you from impaling your mortal hide on another rock?”

I giggled at him as I swayed, grasses moving with me. He grabbed me and every nerve he touched felt like sparklers. My blood bubbled to the beat as Lucien swore at me and I mocked him back.

“Feyre, damn it” Lucien was chasing me as I was carried to the instruments. I could fall into it, disappear and leave this world for one of strings and wood, but mortal flesh tied me to the earth and I wanted to melt into that, become a tree that stretched high above heads as summer sun warmed my bark. I was weaving among the band, turning around them and letting the fabric of my dress flutter out like a cloud.

A fiddle was in front of me and my fingers stretched out, wanting to pour into the music that wrapped around me. Tamlin was above the fiddle, looking at me, every shade of green life swirling in his eyes. He was connected to the hands that were at the neck and bow of the fiddle and I grinned a cheshire smile as he played a song I had taught him. Glimmering sweat ran down from his brow, trailing down to his neck. His forearms flexed as he pulled the bow back and I decided to give up on playing the music myself as I gave myself back to the cords of the song. 

There was a clamor of apologies from behind me before Lucien was pulling me back, pinning my arms to my side as I fought him. I was a coursing river and he was a rock obstructing my current.

“Sorry Tam, I left her for a moment and by the time I got to her she was drinking the wine and-” I squirming in his hands as I still moved my feet to the music. My hair that had escaped the braid was plastered to my flushed skin, and I sagged a bit at the cold wind that brushed against my skin, cooling the fire that sat just below my skin. My sagging let me turn in Lucien’s arms and peer up at him. His hair was frazzled and sweat dripped down from his hair where it was sticking to his skin. 

I whined as he still held me, “Just dance with me Luci, stop being a buzzkill.” He looked over me, to Tamlin with pleading eyes and I heard a soft chuckle.

“I’ll watch her,” I turned back around as Lucien dropped his hands from my side and the smile that split my face reached my ears as I looked at my savior of the night, “Enjoy the party Lucien.” Lucien disappeared as I spun around in place, swaying to music that hadn’t paused as Tamlin still pulled the bow across the strings. 

I barely heard the murmured reassurance of Tamlin as I disappeared into the thrum. At some point a tambourine had appeared in my hand and I was apart of the band as I hit it against my hip and shook it through the air. Another blinking moment and the tambourine was gone and Tamlin was in front of me, offering me the fiddle. My fingers did not hesitate as they took the instrument and played from a deep cavern of music I had longed for. 

My eyesight was gone as I spun with the music, tilting and swaying to and fro as hands guided me through tickling grasses. Music for the heavens poured from me as I was a pitcher of wicked human feelings, and I opened my eyes that had closed against my knowledge. The moon was above me and I played for her, for eternity between those stars but tied to a rock filled with so much love and life, to look at but to never touch and never participate.

Heat burned at my back as I danced around a fire, a hand pushing me from the rocks I tried to leap upon that bordered the licking ruby and citrine. I was nights and days spent in the water and around campfires. I was laughing children and cheering adults at gatherings. It was summer and joy and I enjoyed the warmth that filled every aching space that had been hollow for years, for my whole existence.

Music dwindled off once the instrument was taken from me and I was no longer at the festival, no fae bodies radiating heat around me as cold dew on grass soaked into my boots. Still I danced in silence, danced to the chorus of the earth as hands guided me to a slope. I opened my eyes and the moon I had been playing to was kissing the edge of the sky, a blue-gray haze warming the sky for day as gasped in the last bits of sweet night air. I was soaked down with sweat, the feeling rivulets running down my back and shins causing my skin to prickle as I collapsed into the grass, but a warm body was catching me. 

A panting high lord was in my ear as I savored the warmth against my quickly cooling skin, “Time goes rather fast when you are drunk off your ass on faerie wine, doesn’t it?” I frowned at him as I heard the beginning strings of music again.

“V’ry drunk, wanna dance, they’re playing ‘gain.” I pointed across the way ,accusatory as Tam dragged me away. The will-o’-the-wisps were already ringing out their song and while Tamlin tried to pull me back for a moment, probably to explain and invite me to dance, I was already trouncing through the grass to flow along with the flittering moonbeams that guided my feet.

Tamlin followed after me, grabbing me as I twisted in place. He pulled me into him and I had to crane my head up as he started the soft, easy steps of a waltz. He caught me everytime my feet faltered, righting me with an easy swoop or twirl as I felt the invigoration of the wine slowly trickle from me. We ended up at the top of a hill, away from the wisps, before Tamlin separated from me. I was starting to become drowsy as Tamlin dragged me down to the damp grass he had sat on, tucking me close under an arm as I savored the warmth of his body once again.

Petals fell from my hair as Tamlin’s hand took to fidgeting with the woven flowers that remained in my hair. The smoke of alcohol was clearing from me slowly, leaving me clear headed to watch the first sliver of gold tip over the horizon and gild the world in gold. The clouds lit with pale pinks and purples as I felt my eyelids grow leaden. 

I fought that exhaustion pulling at my skin and mind just to see the picturesque scene. I murmured into the fabric of Tamlin’s tunic, seductive sleep coming for me.

“What?” Tamlin tightened his arm around me and I tilted my head up just enough to peer at him through squinting eyes. He was cast in that soft morning light, and if it wasn’t for the gold mask that still held to his face it would have almost looked domestic.

“I’m going to win.” Maybe it was too simple for the mix of emotions that fizzed in me as I closed my eyes again, content blanketing me as I let out a warm breath. I nestled back down and let the gold light of morning wash me away into a gilded blackness.

I did not feel guilty for the night of pure joy and revelry, nor would I ever if it meant I could cling to the memory of the feeling, even if it was all fictional when I returned home.

Chapter Text

The next morning had all of us groaning when we finally gathered together in the dinning room for a late brunch. We all crowded at one end of the table, well it was really only me who had changed position as I had moved the farthest away from the doors as I could. Lucien was massaging his temples as I rested my forehead against the cold wood, it appeared that both of us were hung over as Tamlin sat straight in his chair. He was drinking water for once, evidence of his own hangover despite his denial when I had commented on it when I first dragged myself in.

I looked up at Lucien across from me as I pinched my brows together, “And where did Mr.’save my human hide’ go last night?” I purposely pumped the over exaggerated accusation into my words as I lifted my heavy head from the table.

“On patrol, unlike some people who like frolicing with the moon spirits.” I sent a pointed stare at Lucien at the same time Tam did, “With a little bit of company.” He was too snobby about it for my liking as I leaned back in the chair.

“Cauldron spare any poor female who has to share a night with you.” I groaned at him as I nibbled at a slice of coffee cake and sipped at some sweet tea that had found its way to me. He gave me an offended gasp with a hand drawn to his chest before he fell into a twisted grin.

“Rumor says Tam had to carry in a poor female mortal last night.” His eyebrow curled insufferably and I flicked a piece of hardened sugar at him, his hand swatting the air to deflect it.

“You try being a mortal drunk on two cups of solstice wine, though if you don’t enjoy the feeling of your skull being an anvil I wouldn’t suggest it.” He huffed at me as a slice of strawberry landed on my forehead. I peeled it away and glared at him, prepared to throw it back at him.

“Children, children, please not another food fight.” Tamlin interjected and I looked at him. He had been following my movements all morning as me and Lucien bickered at each other. 

Lucien cleared his throat before straightening up, intent on saying something serious. “My contact in Winter Court sent me a letter this morning, Tamlin,” A damper on the energy as Lucien's face drew tight and his face lost the laughing warmth, “The blight took 2 dozen of their younglings, gone.” The cake in my mouth became ashen and where it sat in my stomach became rancid as my stomach roiled. “Burned through their magic, then broke apart their minds. No one in the Winter Court could do anything—no one could stop it once it turned its attention toward them. Their grief is … unfathomable. My contact says other courts are being hit hard—though the Night Court, of course, manages to remain unscathed. But the blight seems to be sending its wickedness this way—farther south with every attack.”

We sat in heavy silence, none of us reaching for food or drink as we reckoned with the devastation. It was obvious Rhysand was tied to the slaughter, or at least knew of it. My hand was shaky as I reached toward Tamlin’s hand, the fingernails elongated and sharpened into claws where the tips just barely dug into the polished wood. I was just barely soothing the back of his hand before the claws tightened, digging into the wood and Tamlin was growling as his head bobbed higher, detecting something. 

Silence echoed through the manor, unnatural as I had become used to the soft bustling of servants and birds that hung around the balconies. It was wrong as Lucien drew a short sword he must have taken with him on patrol as Tamlin’s canines were elongeated a gleaming with saliva.

“Get Feyre to the window -- by the curtains.” The command was stone as Lucien and I both rose from the table quickly, him pushing me against the wall, pinning me in the drapery as he leaned back into me as though willing me to flatten into paper and melt into the wall. The smallest twinge of smoking cedar pushed with him and I knew I was glammored from view. Tamlin stared at the open doors as Lucien's hand tightened on the hilt, knuckles going white as I wiggled against his back. Tam still sat in his chair, slouching to appear casual for just a moment before casual clicks of hard soled shoes echoed from down the call. 

Rhysand appeared at the doors and I stopped wiggling as I stared at him. It wasn’t the same as Calanmai, now he held a mask as he strode into the room as though it was his own home. He stopped a few yards from Tamlin, feline and self assured as he surveyed the room, where Lucien was pretending to gaze out the window.

“High Lord,”he crooned, inclining his head slightly. Not a bow, never a bow. Tamlin stayed in his seat as he looked up at Rhysand, pretending the presence wasn’t causing those claws to remain razor sharp as he cleaned them with a paring knife.

“What do you want, Rhysand?” Tamlin was short in his words, seething it like a viper

Rhysand smiled and I knew he was the real snake, a constrictor already wrapped around its prey as put a hand on his chest. “Rhysand? Come now, Tamlin. I don’t see you for forty-nine years, and you start calling me Rhysand? Only my prisoners and my enemies call me that.” His grin widened as he finished, and something I felt the tension squeeze. Lucien pressed me harder that would surely bruise my ribs against the stone of the wall as Rhysand turned, evaluating Lucien as prey.

 “A fox mask. Appropriate for you, Lucien.” 

“Go to Hell, Rhys,” Lucien snapped. 

“Always a pleasure dealing with the rabble,” Rhysand said, and faced Tamlin again. I struggled to breath against the wall but just barely kept from wheezing out each breath.

 “I hope I wasn’t interrupting.” 

“We were in the middle of lunch,” Tamlin said—his voice void of the warmth to which I’d become accustomed. The voice of the High Lord, but it was weaker than the other High Lord in the room.

“Stimulating,” Rhysand purred.

“What are you doing here, Rhys?” Tamlin demanded, still in his seat. 

“I wanted to check up on you. I wanted to see how you were faring. If you got my little present.” 

“Your present was unnecessary.” 

“But a nice reminder of the fun days, wasn’t it?” Rhysand clicked his tongue and surveyed the room. “Almost half a century holed up in a country estate. I don’t know how you managed it. But,” he said, facing Tamlin again, “you’re such a stubborn bastard that this must have seemed like a paradise compared to Under the Mountain. I suppose it is. I’m surprised, though: forty-nine years, and no attempts to save yourself or your lands. Even now that things are getting interesting again.”

“There’s nothing to be done,” conceded Tamlin, his voice low. Rhysand approached Tamlin, and each twitch of muscle that guided him was measured. His voice dropped into a whisper, the same whisper of silk sheets dragging against each other. 

“What a pity that you must endure the brunt of it, Tamlin—and an even greater pity that you’re so resigned to your fate. You might be stubborn, but this is pathetic. How different the High Lord is from the brutal war-band leader of centuries ago.”

 Lucien interrupted, “What do you know about anything? You’re just Amarantha’s whore.” 

“Her whore I might be, but not without my reasons.” Aching pain tightened my chest further as I resisted the urge to separate from Lucien and soothe the cutting edge of those words.

“At least I haven’t bided my time among the hedges and flowers while the world has gone to Hell.”

 Lucien’s sword rose slightly and I pressed a hand against his back, he gained enough sense to lower the tip of the blade to rest against the floor again, “If you think that’s all I’ve been doing, you’ll soon learn otherwise.”

“Little Lucien. You certainly gave them something to talk about when you switched to Spring. Such a sad thing, to see your lovely mother in perpetual mourning over losing you.” 

I dug a sharp nail into Lucien as he growled and the blade twisted, screeching against the marble floors it scratched. It kept that blade down and I was thankful.

A small sighing laugh as Rhysand shook his head slightly, looking towards Tamlin, “Shouldn’t you correct this behavior, its unbecoming of a High Lords Emissary to be so hostile to another court’s High Lord, don’t you agree?” Darkness rippled from him like the invert of heat waves and my eyes became entranced by the fluttering aura around him.

“I don’t enforce rank in my court,” Tamlin said. 

“Still?” Rhysand crossed his arms. “But it’s so entertaining when they grovel. I suppose your father never bothered to show you.”

“This isn’t the Night Court,” Lucien hissed. “And you have no power here—so clear out. Amarantha’s bed is growing cold.” If my finger dug back into Lucien’s back he did not react. Anger boiled in me but I tried my best to sooth it as I finished the last touches on my mental shield, fashioned specifically for this meeting.

 “I was slaughtering on the battlefield before you were even born,” Rhysand snarled, and he was drawing back as though he had just come to talk about the wonderful weather. “Besides,” his hands slid into the pockets of his pants, “who do you think taught your beloved Tamlin the finer aspects of swords and females? You can’t truly believe he learned everything in his father’s little war-camps.” I scrunch my nose, not quite pleased to hear about gore and sex as a small sweat was breaking at my hairline.

 Tamlin rubbed his temples. “Save it for another time, Rhys. You’ll see me soon enough.”

 Rhysand meandered toward the door, a neighbor dismissing themselves. “She’s already preparing for you. Given your current state, I think I can safely report that you’ve already been broken and will reconsider her offer.” 

Lucien’s breath hitched as Rhysand passed the table. The High Lord of the Night Court ran a finger along the back of my chair. “I’m looking forward to seeing your face when you—” Rhysand’s eyebrows pinched just slightly as he studied the table, the extra plate with half-eaten cake on it. Lucien went stick-straight, pressing me harder against the wall. 

“Where’s your guest?” Rhysand asked, lifting my goblet and sniffing it before setting it down again, the twinge of disgust on his face informed he did not find the sweet tea as appealing as I did. 

“I sent them off when I sensed your arrival,” Tamlin lied coolly. 

I felt the excitement at the same time I watched the movement of those shadows pick up. He sniffed the air as he turned and his eyes locked on Lucien, and it was excitement and small disbelief making his eyes glow.

“You dare glamor me?” he growled, his violet eyes burning as they bore into me and I knew he could see me now as Lucien just pressed me harder into the wall. Tamlin’s chair scratched the floor as it was shoved back. He rose, claws at the ready, deadlier than any of the knives strapped to him. 

“I remember you,” he purred. I stepped out from behind Lucien even as his had gripped my arm and pulled me back towards him.

He turned to Tamlin. “Who, pray tell, is your guest?” 

“My betrothed,” Lucien answered. 

“Oh? Here I was, thinking you still mourned your commoner lover after all these centuries,” Rhysand said, stalking toward me. He was handsome even in his fury as I locked my eyes to his, keeping his gaze as he drew nearer. Dark pulsed from him and I clenched my hands to keep from reaching out to the sentient shadows.

Lucien spat at Rhysand’s feet and shoved his sword between us. Rhysand’s venom-coated smile grew. “You draw blood from me, Lucien, and you’ll learn how quickly Amarantha’s whore can make the entire Autumn Court bleed. Especially its darling Lady.”

 The color leached from Lucien’s face, but he held his ground. It was Tamlin who answered. “Put your sword down, Lucien.” I was already ripping my arm from his grasp and pushing down the blade, careful not to slice open my hand as I did so.

“I knew you liked to take filth for your lovers, but to stoop so low as to drabble with the human garbage.” Still I did not break my stare, as I set the last soft layer of metal shield. I had constructed my mind like a stone fruit, soft flesh of mind that I bared to him covered in the barest shield of skin, but the vital thoughts I guarded were at the center, hidden by that flesh in an dense sheild of iron and stone.

 Rhysand had not paused as he approached me. “The Lady of the Autumn Court will be grieved indeed when she hears of her youngest son. If I were you, I’d keep your new pet well away from your father.” 

“Leave Rhys,” Tamlin’s voice led itself to a command but it was no more than a puppy's bark to Rhysand as he paused a body length away from me. I put one foot forward, crossing it across the other as I bent at the waist and bowed formally. I did not have any fear as I straightened from my bow.

“At least someone in this court has manners, perhaps you should teach them to your fiancé.” He grinned down at me ,“If you were wise, you would be screaming and running from this place, from these people. It’s a wonder that you’re still here, actually.”

“My stay ran longer than anticipated, but it is a pleasure to put a name to a face, Rhys.” If he had any doubts they did not cross his face as wicked enjoyment crawled across his face like a spider.

Rhysand was about to speak but Tamlin was growling again, “Get out Rhysand, you have seconds.”

Rhysand clicked his tongue, “If I were you, I wouldn’t speak to me like that Little High Lord.” My body straightened like a rod was ran through every bone and muscle as I felt talons of a large hand scrape along the top most barrier of my mind. The skin of the fruit was sliced and I let small thoughts push out from them as glistening juice. Tastes of the night and towering trees hiding me as I rested during a hunt.

“Let her go,” Tamlin said, bristling, but didn’t advance forward. A kind of panic had entered his eyes, and he glanced from me to Rhysand. If I could reassure him I would, but I still stared back at Rhysand as I softened my eyes, “Enough.”

“I’d forgotten that human minds are as easy to shatter as eggshells,” Rhysand said. I felt one of the claws collect the leaking thoughts, tasting what I presented. “How delightful. You must have gotten a rare one Tam, unable to feel fear even as her mind is just shy of being obliterated.” He crooned at me as his hand wrapped around my throat, thumb tracing my pulse point. I pushed more thoughts out, this time the fear of heights as I strapped myself to a tree of the night, fear of nightmares that haunted me when I dreamed. “Oh it would be quick, I promise.”

“Amarantha will enjoy breaking her,” Rhysand observed to Tamlin. “Almost as much as she’ll enjoy watching you as she shatters her bit by bit.” 

Tamlin was frozen, his arms hanging limply next to him, defeated. “Please” If he would just shut up and quit begging I could solve this, and perhaps I let a little too much irritation slip from me as Rhysand’s forehead rose just a bit.

 “Please what?” Rhysand taunted as those claws traced swirling patterns into my mind, cutting more and more away and I left more and more thoughts pouring from it. 

“Don’t tell Amarantha about her,” Tamlin said, and his voice cracked.

“And why not? As her whore,” he said with an accusatory glance tossed in Lucien’s direction, “I should tell her everything.” Tamlin pleaded again with short ‘please’s. Rhysand made him beg, a simpering mess as he pressed his foot into Tamlin’s head. Maybe I would have felt bad if I was not reminded of the slaughter of both of their families.

Those claws loosened from my mind and I gained control of my limbs again. I shook them lightly before I gave Rhysand a reprimanding smile, flickers of shock skipped over all of their faces as I rubbed at my head.

“It is quite rude to hold a Lady’s mind without asking first.” I pushed hair from my forehead that was leaking sweat. I reformed the shields into something easier to manage, a smooth wall of solid stone. The headache I had been dealing with since I rose from bed dissipated just a bit as my metal strain lessened. Disbelief and horror was across both Tamlin’s and Lucien’s faces as I smoothed out the violet tunic I had chosen this morning on purpose. 

“A rare catch indeed, Tamlin.” Rhys grinned at me and behind the mask of cruelty I might have imagined amusement. “What’s your name, love? It is quite unfair that you have mine but I do not have yours.”

I did not let a heartbeat of indecision pass, “Emiline Jacobs.” I had the name on reserve for years, a young woman from The Children of Blessed that made a pastime of stealing from the elderly on market day. It wasn’t enough to condemn her to the death she would face but it was enough to know there wouldn’t be a house burned to ashes.

“Well, this was entertaining. The most fun I’ve had in ages, actually. I’m looking forward to seeing you three Under the Mountain. I’ll give Amarantha your regards.” He was curt as he nipped lint from the matte black tunic and winnowed. The air didn’t even move for a moment, the element afraid of shredding the last bit of Tamlin’s restraint. We were alone and that fractured each of us.

Chapter Text

The next morning Tamlin had a carriage loaded for me to leave. I quickly packed a personal bag of those fine tunics and trousers, my standard boots already strapped to my feet. It was a quick goodbye, hugging the fae I had grown close to over the months, even shaking hands with some of the sentinels that had been watching my training every morning. Lucien tried to get Tamlin to add more time, to give me more time, but both me and Tamlin shut down the notion. Still I assured Lucien in private that I was not giving up, despite his protests that if I was going to leave to just stay gone.

Alis tried to dress me in a frilly dress that was apparently in fashion for the mortal realm, but despite my two exceptions to my pants rule I held firm and she dressed the best she could. I assured her my sisters would think it far more strange of me to show up in a dress than to have been gone all these months.

Then I was gone, knocked out by some magic once I passed the edge of the estate. I only woke up when I felt the undeniable turns that slid past the cottage, the human village. The new Archeron estate was sickeningly huge compared to the walls I had grown used to. Maids and servants flowed around me, their movements startlingly jagged and clumsy now that I had become used to the fae grace.

The first day passed where I did not see Nesta, servants so busy getting my opinion for every little thing when it came to my rooms that I didn't even get to join the rest of the family for dinner. I only got to see Elain as I hid in the gardens, and she was glad to accept the responsibility of deciding the arrangements for some ball our father wanted to host for us.

The next morning I hunted down Nesta, lurking a small library near both our rooms. She had a book in hand but still looked as though she had expected me as she stood from her chair.

“We need to talk, Nesta,” I said, closing the space between us. Before either of us could get into what we needed to talk though, we were embracing tightly. It was one of the handful of times I could ever recall hugging Nesta, hugs with Elain were easy but both me and Nesta held our reservations for personal affections.

“Indeed we do.” Those sharp eyes cut through me and I was glad of it as I laid out what had happened over the months, giving her as much truth as I could while rambling. She nodded along, accepting it all as though it was as everyday as weather. I told her of my plans to go under the mountain, face Amarantha.

“No,” it was her first objection, “You are not going, not when I just got you back, Feyre.” Our eyes met and it was lions circling each other, ready to pounce to get our ways.

“I’m not asking for permission. I’m going, whether you like it or not. I am telling you that.” I was iron-clad in my statement as I settled into a bench in the library we had found that accommodated both of us.

“You will die, Feyre.” Her eyes darted across my face as she still tamed enough of her emotions to not shout at me as I let out a small smile.

“That I will, Nesta,” that rage we shared flickered across her face, “I will still come back though, it won’t be me -completely, but it will be your sister.” I took a breath, if she was going to hate me might as well rip the bandaid off now, “A war is coming Nesta, fae are gathering on an island to the west to reclaim the Mortal lands. I am doing as much as I can to prevent it but if something happens try to get to the Continent.”

Nesta yielded to me just barely and we set up a plan. While I didn’t know the exact dates of the start of the trials but I remembered enough of the seasons to give myself two weeks for the heat of summer to grasp the mortal lands. I spent the days helping Elain tend to her flower gardens in the afternoons while I snuck out after dinner to train in my normal woods. The mornings had Nesta helped me ready the preparations of a horse along with a satchel full of food while I ran back to the cottage every day, stowing away papers of information in my drawer that was covered with the chipping blue of a night sky I had tried to paint with my finger tips, sparks of yellow for stars and the moon.

 My final day with them came, Nesta seeing me off as I loaded the horse at dawn.“You know, I always took you for granted, all those years in the woods.” Her hand was at my leg as I settled in the saddle. “We all did, and we never thanked you for it, any of it.”

I shrugged as I checked the security of the bags, “You never asked, I just did what I had to to keep us all alive.” Her hand tightened, polished nails digging into my thigh,

“No, Feyre, I was your older sister and I let you go into the woods, for days on end.” I let my hand sooth her’s as her words grew thick with emotion she never dared show.

“I chose that, I knew what would happen to us the moment I bought my bow, I knew my place here.” I would miss her, miss the burning passion to protect her sisters. But the sun was drawing nearer and the staff were going to be looking for the eldest and youngest mistresses of the house for breakfast at any moment.

She frowned at me, her chin wrinkling just as Elain’s did when she was frustrated. “Remember to tell father and Elain of the war when I leave, once you tell them about Prythian and what happened in the cabin they will remember.” A softer squeeze at my knee before she sent me off with no more, a farewell we had mastered after years of silent departures before the sun had risen.

Two and half days of riding until I saw the front gates of the manor, torn from their place as they hung off kilter. The place was ransacked as I dismounted and picked my way through the destroyed furniture, glass and wood scattered across the floor, smeared and pooled in blood in some places. I slid into the dinning room, the floor most clear here even as the large banquet table was decimated at the center. And no blood.

It only took a few moments where I had kicked a clear spot to sit and wait in before I heard a soft sway of fabric from someone moving. I called out for Alis in the silence and the sound of fabric was gone. Then she was around a corner and wrapped herself around me. Her normal apron was gone and one of her ankles limped behind her ever so slightly, still her hand fussed at my hair as she pulled back to look over me.

“What are you doing here?" The deep red shade of Sequoia bark she normally wore had gone waned, lightning to peeling birch. “You were sent away for your safety.” She was appalled that I took a step back and out of her motherly hands.

“I’m going to free them, I just need you to guide me to the entrance of The Mountain.” 

“You know then, of Amarantha and the curse?” Her face was drawn and I glanced down to the heavy satchel at her side.

“I know a great deal more than that, but yes, I do know.” Alis was sighing, her foot starting to tap as she considered. 

 “You can’t go Under the Mountain. No human who goes in ever comes out.” I held her gaze, defiant and holding my ground much like the bickering we would have over my clothes those weeks ago. I longed for that domesticity again, knowing that the following months would be starkly colder and crueler than those moments. “I am asking you to guide me, because either I get under that mountain and free everyone, or Amarantha will have control over all of Prythian.” 

Alis relented, knowing I would not yield on this as she ushered me from the dining room. We both went to the kitchens, gathering whatever food had been spared in the attack on the hall. Once Alis’ satchel was building with the supplies I guided her out of the house and to the horse I had used to ride here. I led the horse by its bridle while Alis led me through the woods, hours of walking and changing our course as she heard something before night fell.

My legs started to ache with every step, every incline and shift of rock making my ankles quiver. Still Alis persisted, not checking if I fell behind as I helped the mare climb the hills along with us. Sliding down into the hollow of two hills, I shiverd at the drop in temperature infront of a thin cave mouth.

“All dark and miserable roads lead Under the Mountain,” Alis whispered on the dead wind coming from the cave as she waved at it.“It’s an ancient shortcut—once considered sacred, but no more.” I paused as I pulled the extra set of clothes and layered it upon myself, including that old leather jacket that still held the scent of the winter mortal woods. “I reckon you’re regretting your hotheadedness right now.”

I didn’t answer her as I gave her the bridle to the horse, “Go to your boys. If something goes wrong and you need to get out of Prythian you can go to my father’s estate, it's just below the wall. Tell my sister Nesta your name, I already told her of you and she would be willing to take you and your boys in.” She would take them in and across the seas if it came to that, even if she hated the fae so advidily that all her jewelry had turned to iron in the months I was gone.

Alis said a prayer for me as I turned and disappeared into that cave mouth, keeping a hand to one wall as I walked farther into the icy black.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

The cold stone bit into my fingers as I moved closer to my end, staying quiet as I did so. The extra layers kept me just barely warm as I toed past small puddles around wet stones. I heard the music before I saw the small entrance to a hallway, orange candle light spilling through it as I was finaly able to see where my feet were going. I had to take off my jacket to sqeeze through the crack, still scratching myself against the rock as I did so. The temperature dropped again when I crossed onto the solid floor and I yanked the jacket back on quickly.

I walked down the hall, not trying all that hard to hide against the wall, before the Attor had come for me. It dragged me through the walls, my kicking and screaming mostly for show as we entered the throne room. The faces of hundreds of fae leered at me, the rare few grimaces barely registering to me as two twin doors opened and I was now being dragged across red marble tiles as a high ceiling of pale rock held above us. 

The Attor threw me across the floor and I slid for a moment, spinning as I skidded. A moment where I stood to my feet and faked dusting off my pants, just to get under the fae queen’s skin before I turned around and faced her.

Ginger hair was curled around her shoulders as she rested in a carved black throne. She looked older than I had expected, somewhere in her 30s rather than the 20-something image I had for the past decade. Deep frown lines at her lips and forehead were attempted to be covered in makeup but I saw past it. Though the gold crown at her head glittered, woven to her head by strands of her hair, she held her head too stiff and I got the distinct feeling she was waiting for someone to try and rip it from her. 

She was pale, void of any freckles or joy, while her lips shone with a ruby red that looked sickeningly like blood as she smiled lazily. Her black eyes shone like a slice of obsidian as she looked down her nose at us. 

“What is this?” Her manicured hand crossed her arm rest, reaching for the arm that rested on the chair next to her. I was not phased at Tamlin sitting there, unmoving and unfeeling as a nail traced up his arm, but I did focus on the swiveling eye held in the ring on her hand.

“A human thing I found down stairs.” A small flutter of those grotesque wings had a rotting wind pushing against me.

Amarantha rolled her eyes, “Obviously,” she grated out on a sigh, irritated with the incompetence of her staff, “but why should I bother with such a thing?”

Though I could not see it I could feel the grin of pride on the Attor’s face as he spoke again. “Tell Her Majesty why you were sneaking around the catacombs—why you came out of the old cave that leads to the Spring Court.”

I did not acknowledge the lacky behind me as I stared into Amarantha’s onyx eyes, keeping my form steady as she stared back. “I came to claim the man I love.” I took a quick breath where Amarantha just barely shifted forward and I continued, “I am a mortal woman who killed a Spring Court Faerie, and I have come to free Prythian from your curses.” I hoped at least some of the faeries in the room would be appreciative of my inclusion of all of their lands and not just one court.

Soft murmurs and gasps rose from the crowd, the faeries contemplating with each other before Amarantha tilted her head back and laughed at that white stone above us all. 

The High Queen turned to Tamlin, and her lips pulled back in a wicked smile. “You certainly were busy all those years. Developed a taste for human beasts, did you?” He did not make any reaction as she continued “But,” Amarantha said slowly and the rest of the room drew in like a magnet was pulling them as she continued. “It makes me wonder—if only one human girl could be taken once she killed your sentinel …” Wicked joy lit those eyes and I could not wait to make the life behind them flicker out.“Oh, you are delicious. You let me torture that innocent girl to keep this one safe? You lovely thing! You actually made a human worm love you. Marvelous.” I resisted the pull of my head to the wall she looked at, having glimpsed the strung up body of a woman who only had her blond curls left to define her. I let her think my love was for that of the Spring High lord and not another, a love I denied knowing I would not be the one to enjoy it. 

“Free them.” I held my voice steady, a mental hand around my throat to keep it from shaking as I ignored the part of my soul screaming at the death of an innocent. It had been needed, to quench Amarantha’s burning blood lust just a bit so I would not be the one crucified to the wall before I could do the work needed.

She laughed again, condescending like I was some animal, “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t destroy you where you stand, human.” I stomped down the joking retort that rose to the front of my hand, now not the time for humor.

“Your time frame only encompassed Spring Court, but I am here to fight for all of them,” I waved an arm around to my side as I still stared at her with every intent to discover some buried human magic and mist her where she sat. 

“A delicious one indeed, Tamlin, look at how thoughtful your little pet is.” She crooned before she held my stare once again. 

“Court has been quite drab since that toy gave out on us,” she waved a hand at the corpse pinned to the wall behind me. “So I will bargain with you, human.” She said the word like it was the name of some insect, a roach, “You complete three tasks of my choosing—three tasks to prove how deep that human sense of loyalty and love runs, and they are yours. Just three little challenges to prove your dedication, to prove to me, to darling Jurian, that your kind can indeed love true, and they can all walk from here.”

“All of their power will also be returned to them, full autonomy of themselves too.” I corrected her, magic specific and loop holed that I could not let that go if I somehow failed and she lived when I died, “Agree to that and I will do your three tasks.”

“Of course,” she said it with a curling smile that made my skin prick even under all the layers, “You are smarter than the last human I made a deal with,” her eyes looked down at her ring, “So I will include another part to our deal, a shortcut for such a clever human. A riddle. Solve it and all curses will be broken and power returned to its origin. Instantaneously. I won’t even need to lift my finger and he’ll be free. Say the right answer at any time and all is set right for you—but if you answer incorrectly …” She pointed again behind me and those nails were starting to look more and more like claws as I again refused to look at the beaten body of Emiline. 

I agreed to the terms and she continued explaining that the tasks would occur at the full moon, “And until then, what will you have me do?” 

“In the meantime,” Amarantha cut out, “you shall either remain in your cell or do whatever additional work I require.”

“It would not be fair to run me ragged, nor to starve me.” She was growing agitated with my nitpicking

“Nothing beyond basic housework. It’s only fair for you to earn your keep.” I knew the chores would be impossible but I had plans until I had a moment to convince Rhys to become my ally as I already saw him.``Then we are agreed.” 

“Only if I get three full meals a day, fresh and not tampered.” Her hand tightened against her arm rest and the stone groaned just a bit.

“Yes, three clean meals.”

“Then I will complete your tasks or solve your riddle and all every denizen of Prythian will be free of your rule and power will return to the High Lords.”

““Of course,” Amarantha said. “Is it agreed?”

“Agreed.” A snap of her fingers and magic that smelled of burning plastic sizzled between us. She smiled as she leaned back in her chair and I knew I had made a deal with the devil or one of his servants as she waved a hand to the Attor behind me.

  “Give her a greeting worthy of my hall, won’t you?” Her words had just ended as my only warning before the blow to my back was a laughing hiss. I buckled under the blow and quickly used my hands to cover the back of my neck as more kicks and punches befell me. A fist connected with my nose and I heard it crunch as something else, a rib, cracked. Blood poured down the back of my throat as black fuzzed at the edges of my vision. I yielded to the black to let go of the pain of the punches for just a moment, and I was unconscious before the foot I saw careening towards me made contact. 

Chapter Text

I sat in quiet agony for a couple hours, each breath like pushing a thumb into a deep bruise. One of my eyes was half-swelled shut and I was thankful for the cold stone as I pressed every exposed part of me into it to numb my skin just a bit. There was a bed of hay in the corner of the room where I had woken in, sharp and stabbing even as they felt awfully damn where they gathered the humidity.

I was prodding my split lip with a tongue, tasting the iron, when my cell door opened just slightly, grinding against the stone floors. Lucien slid the door shut as he entered my cage, and by the grimace he made when I tried smiling at him I knew I must look at least half as bad as I felt. 

“Feyre?” His voice was tentative as I grumbled at him, a spike in pain rendering me speechless of a moment where he kneeled in front of me.“By the Cauldron, are you all right?”

“Seen better days, haven’t I?” I joked and the pinch of his face and a huff told me he did not appreciate it. I went to roll my eyes but bailed halfway through the movement as it agitated the black eye that had nearly swollen one of my eyes shut.

“What are you even doing here? How did you get here?” His hand reached out to a large bruise on my jaw but I tilted away, avoiding the touch.

“Roped in Alis to bring me to the cave, and I’m pretty sure I told everyone under the mountain why I am here, Luci.” He went to open his mouth to chastise me more, but I was already ahead of him “There is nothing you can do to change it now, it's a done deal. So,  if you could heal me up a bit so I can talk without choking on blood , that would be really nice of you.”

Lucien rocked back on his heels, slightly away from me,“So you know everything, then.” A small nod that had my eyes flashing with white dots, “Well, at least we don’t have to lie to you anymore. Let’s clean you up a bit.”

I shifted just a bit up the wall I leaned against, “Think a rib is cracked or broken, and obviously the nose.” His hand moved toward my face as he glanced over his shoulder.

“The guards are drunk for now but shift change is about to come, so we have to make this quick” His finger grazed along it and I bit back a curse at the pain that lit up. “I’m going to have to set it before I can heal it.” 

I nodded my head quickly, “Do it, please just do it now.” Then his hand was grasping the slanted bridge of my nose and pulling, pushing. It cracked into place and my vision blacked out. I was back a moment later before magic pulsed around me and the pain was lessened to near nothing. I took a deep breath and it did not ache, but as I smiled I knew the bruises remained across me at the sting. 

“There, bruising is nasty, but I can’t heal you fully without raising suspicion.” He sounded half defeated as he stood and I rose along with him.

“Thank you, Lucien.” I meant it as I grabbed his arm as he turned to leave, “Lucien, you cannot come back to help me, do not stick your neck out for me. I will handle what comes my way and I cannot put you in that crossfire, do you understand?” I saw the reluctance in his eyes as he nodded, some inner turmoil beneath as he made eye contact with me.

A half cocked smile as he spoke, “Try not to die, will you? I already have a long list of faeries to kill—I don’t want to re-alphabetize it.” I punched him in the arm, choking down a groan at the stretch of still bruised ribs. Then he was gone on a smoke scented wind. I savored the smell, different from the mildew and rot that had already become familiar in the hours beforehand.

A bloodshot yellow eye stared at me, glaring, before the guard continued onward, down toward the other prisoners. I knew there were other prisoners, from the soft groans I would hear near to my own cell and down to the piercing screams echoing off the stone as they were tortured. I settled down on that bed of hay though, to preserve my waning body heat that the stone floors greedily ate up, and dozed off.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

Days passed, and while I did get the three meals a day the time between them was irregular and I quickly lost count. The meals ranged from being bland plain oatmeal to some white fish that was so salty I spat it out. A pile of clothes, the extra set I had laid upon myself along with the leather jacket, laid above the hay to make sleeping bearable. Though I slept often, I did not idle in my time, using the small space to do ground exercises as I knew the test of all my physical preparations was quickly coming. I was in the middle of a set of crunches when two red-skinned goblin looking creatures dragged me from my cell and through the halls.

I didn’t bother learning the halls as I righted myself and fell into a walk with the red hands still clamped to my arms. I was brought before Amarantha and from the moment I came between those towering doors I was staring at her. I did not meet the gaze of any of the other high fates around us as I was forced to my knees by my guards. Amarantha’s dress was a jewel red, bright and offensive to the eyes even as it complimented her hair well. 

“Oh how dreadful you look,” She turned to Tamlin, a show since she still thought me in love with him, “Wouldn’t you agree? Humans do not keep well at all.” The tone she used was akin to one talking about produce, of wilting lettuce. Tamlin made no move though, not that I expected him to. 

Amarantha exaggerated her movements as she leaned on the arm of her chair, propping her head on a hand, “I couldn’t sleep at all last night because of you, and this morning it came to me why. I don’t know your name!” she exclaimed the discovery like it was a nugget of gold. She sighed before continuing, “All this time where you know my name yet I do not have yours. It’s quite unfair wouldn’t you say? Especially with all the time we will be spending together in the coming months.”

I stood still, still looking straight into her eyes as she only held the contact for a moment. “Come one now, no need for such defiance so early in the games.” Another pause, “Rhysand.” That was all it took to summon him glittering in his darkness that hung around him even weakened. He walked from the crowd and stood next to me, just a step forward from my forced kneel.He bowed at the waist as I peered at him from the corner of my eye, not breaking my main eye line as I did so. 

Amarantha lifted her brows. “Is this the girl you saw at Tamlin’s estate?” 

I saw him look down at me, surveying, as he picked at a piece of lint on his tunic. I did not get to see any emotions that he held on his face as he turned back to the Queen. “I suppose.”

“But did you or did you not tell me that girl,” Amarantha said, her tone sharpening as she pointed to Emiline , “was the one you saw?” 

He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Humans all look alike to me.”  But he had recognized me, both now and when he had come that day after the solstice. Really for being 500 years old and a supposed master at mind games he sucked hard at hiding his tells as Amarantha gave him a saccharine smile.  “And what about faeries?” 

Rhysand bowed again, so much like a doll that it sickened me as he praised her. “Among a sea of mundane faces, yours is a work of art.” I reminded myself of his game to protect his family, that I could not destroy his reputation by laughing at the moment as I stared at Amarantha. 

“What’s her name?” she demanded of Rhysand. 

“How would I know? She lied to me.” If I could I would have swatted him for the defiance he held against her with so much at stake.

 Still Amarantha frowned before she crooked a finger to the crowd of gathered fae, “Let us learn, then.”

I saw the red of Lucien’s hair, the male resisting the pull of the Attor, as I held firm even as he was forced to kneel like I was. He stared at me though, I could feel the uncertainty even across the room. Amarantha’s finger licked again, this time at Rhys.

“Hold his mind.” Her command was like asking a child to get up and grab something and even I wanted to seeth for him as Rhys bowed his head ever so slightly toward Amarantha before turning to Lucien.

Though I could not feel it, I saw the moment those claws dragged across Lucien’s mind. His body had gone ridged as mine had done that day, body not daring to move an inch even as the threat was internal. But that was not what worried me as I knew Rhys wouldn’t obliterate Lucien, not as I saw the four ginger males bully their way to the front of the crowd to peer upon their brother.

“Her name, Emissary?” Amarantha asked of Lucien. Again I felt those eyes as I only let a beat of silence go, before I broke my stare with Amarantha to look at Lucien. He resisted as his shoulders squared, eyes squeezing shut as those claws dragged against him. I stepped forward, from the forced kneel as I pushed through those faerie hands, not willing to let this go on longer, for Lucien to face punishment.

“Feyre. My name is Feyre”Perhaps the desperation that leaked into my voice was to much as her eyes lit from where she had changed to stare back down at me. I saw Lucien go slack as his mind was released and I felt myself relax at his safety. Amarantha was grinning as she looked at me and I barely sensed Rhys stepping back to fall into wherever he had been hidden in the crowd. 

“Fey-ruh,” Amarantha punctuated as she tasted the name and found it bitter, “An old name from an earlier dialect of our kind. Well, Feyre, I did promise you a riddle.” 

I nodded my head before she spoke it, and I could have wept that it remained the same, that I remember it well enough that I could have spoken it alongside her. I kept my face grave though, a dumb mortal who did not understand the words as they fell from her lips. She finished and seemed satisfied with my fearful face as she sent me back to the dungeons to ‘think it over’.

It had been a half moon when I came in here and if the days I counted were close to being accurate the first trial would be coming any day now. I relaxed on the training, sticking to simply stretching in the hours I was left with to myself to let the constant muscle aches subside and I be fully well rested. When I was bored with stretching I would whisper into the shadows of the cell, telling it of my family, my life, and what else I had crossed my mind in the endless hours.

I told the shadows of science and math, my old world histories, of stories that did not exist here. Maybe when the mountain was free the shadows would scurry back to their owner and whisper what I told them in those damp hours. I hoped Azriel would listen to the shadows, but maybe the shadows thought me deranged as the guards surely did as they would occasionally check on me or when they slid me food. 

Still, I did not shy away from the burning light as my cell door swung open two days after Amarantha had demanded my name. I did not flinch or shout as hands grabbed me and pulled me from my cell, down halls and to my possible death. 

Chapter Text

I was led down some back corridor, the roars of the faeries awaiting my demise echoing off the hall like a twisted war cry. The stone was damp and muddy, the promise of the lair at the end of it. I was glad I had chosen the leather boots as the mud squelched even in the passageway, the grip of the sole helping just a bit from keeping me slamming into the floor due to a slip. 

Then the passage widened and opened to an arena, the crowds pushing at each other to see me, the victim of their bets as I saw flashes of gold and silver exchanging hands from the corner of my eye. The corner because I still stared solely at Amarantha, unwavering as I looked at her dressed in a pure white gown, so easy to stain.

 I was thrown in front of where Amarantha and Tamlin sat, their chairs elevated from the mud on a wooden platform. Between us the Wyrm den was exposed to the air, a maze of rank mud that stung at my eyes even as I only stood at the edge. The fervor of the faeries in the crowd had up-ed and Amarantha had to raise her arm to silence them as she stared back at me. The space silenced in a moment and I could hear the thump of my heart in my ears as I only slightly widened my stance. 

“Well, Feyre,” she said as she placed a possessive hand on Tamlin’s knee, the movement meant to enrage but my eyes only ever so slightly glanced down to Jurian’s, staring at me where it swiveled in its imprisonment ,“Your first task is here. Let us see just how strong that human determinations runs, shall we?” She leaned just ever so much forward as she continues, examining a nail as she did so, “I did take some liberty of learning some things about you, and I do think that this will appeal to your tastes.” 

She waved the hand she had been inspecting, “Take a look then.”

I smiled at her, letting my canines gleam for just a moment before I rushed towards the edge. I was afraid I was going to slip on the mud as I pushed onward, but my momentum carried me over the edge as I flew in open air for just a moment. Faeries gasped and shouted as I slammed into a mud covered wall, the slickness of it cushioning me. I dug my fingers into the walls to slow my descent before I handed slightly harshly in the maze. 

I was already half soaked in mud from my slide and I did not hesitate to scoop more of the rancid mud from the wall and floors to smear along any exposed parts of me. It soaked into the fabric quickly and I spread it across my face and down my neck, running my muddy fingers through my hair to clean the mess from my hands.

I looked up to see Amarantha peering down at me, frowning at my camouflage, “Rhysand told me you are a huntress. So, mortal, hunt.” She motion to a group of lesser fae, “Release it,” Amarantha called and the creaking sound of a gate being open set my feet moving down and away from the rumble of the creature that was released. 

I ran with no plan, just scanning the wall for a sliver of the opening that would have saved Feyre. The beast wasn’t behind me, not directly, but I felt its writhing in the air, knew it was with me in the open space as I threw myself around corners. My legs strained under me but they knew how to move against the mud, years of running in spring rains that formed quagmires in the woods making the push and slide familiar. 

Oh I was really hopeful I had taken off in the right direction, that I was not working against myself as I search and searched. My lungs burned and I tasted iron on my tongue as I ran, and while the taste was always concerning it kept the stench of mud from fully permeating my senses. Then I saw it, the crack that was so horrendously thin I feared I would get stuck as Feyre had.

I did not slow as I needed the force behind me to slam through the crack. I wedged myself between the mud, all but the edge of my shoulder and hip in between the tight walls as I wiggled and pushed against it. The entire time I had been running the faeries above were cheering, goating at the wyrm that was utterly lost in its own home as I had disappeared from its senses. There were boo’s as well, many of them calling me a coward for hiding as I finally broke free of the wall as I stretched and pulled. 

“Feyre, come out and play. All this hiding is ruining the fun of the sport.” Amarantha was talking on her platform and even though I was hidden from her sight I flipped her off as I walked through the den of the wyrm. Bones crunching underfoot as I found the open air of the arena again, I at the center of a steep walled mud pit. Taunts came from above of me now being the prey as though that isn’t what this game intended to make me as I scrounged about in the mud, forming a small pile of long ivory bones that held promise to my eye. 

I snapped a dozen bones over my knee a piece as I set the shattered ends facing the sky, deadly spikes for anything ascending from above. Then one knee became bruised and I switched to the other, and when that one bruised I broke it across my shins, under my foot, any way I could until I had a field of ivory stalagmites. A spiral of ivory death that would impale the wyrm on its long dead prey. Hopefully what or who ever the bones had come from would feel pride at being the things to kill the beast.

I cleared a small space that I hoped I could land in when it came time before I stood to admire my work, catching my breath. Movement caught my eye and I looked up, to a small platform that held the remaining 6 High Lords of Prythian, that held Rhysand with night shrouding his shoulders like a cape as he looked down at me. The other 5 were rigid as they stood next to him, but all watched me with apprehensive eyes and I resisted the urge to wave.

There was a pict looking down at me, cursing, “What are you doing? Useless mortal! Fight the damn thing instead of playing around!” The words sent a ripple of questions of my intentions through the crowd as I still looked up at Rhys.

“What is it doing?” A smaller female fae asked, near the pedestal of the high lords as she bent over the edge of the 

He slid his hands into his pockets as he spoke, “She is laying a trap, a huntress who has become invisible to their prey.” I smiled as purring pride settled in my chest.

I took 3 spare bones to stab my way into the mud, pulling myself up rung by rung as I made my bone ladder. I surveyed the trap from above, nearly artistic with the slanted white against filthy brown. I climbed back down my ladder and collected half a dozen bones to be used as my pivot points, securing them in my belt loops before I was out of the pit again, jogging to find my prey. I followed the sounds of the crowd toying with the wyrm, marking each turn I took with a bone.I followed the sound of the wyrm, the sloshing of mud, the crunch of bones of whatever the faeries above were feeding it, and came around a corner to view it. 

Seeing it for the first time made my stomach turn over itself even more so than the elevated stench. It was a giant earth worm with rows and rows of razor sharp teeth that were tearing through the flesh of whatever was in its maw. Now that I had confirmed where it was I slowly back down the path I had come from. I was several meters back from the bend when I took the last remaining shaft of bone I had saved, its edge the sharpest, and dragged it across the top of my bicep. Blood poured down to mix with the mud against my arms, red bright against the filthy brown. The crowd fell silent and I did not wait for Lucien to warn me as I took off toward my trap. 

I was not sprinting as I waited for it to burst from the wall and follow after me, this plan dependent on the wyrm not being able to stop itself as did the hunting for me. The sound of shattering mud and dirt had me only glancing over my shoulder for a second to check the distance as the open jaws of the wyrm approached behind me.

Then I was sprinting like my life depended on it, because it did, toward my trap. I skidded across the mud as I grabbed the juts of bone I had placed, pulling myself through the corners as the wrym slammed into them and was forced to slow down. My joints all groaned and I felt my ankle slipping under itself as I fought to stay up in the mud. 

My throat and nose were burning as I came to the straight away, the slight rise that marked the pit just before me as I dug my feet in deeper. The cheers of the faeries above me were changing as the wyrm appeared behind me, thrashing in its desperation for another meal. 

With a final prayer to whatever heavens that would accept me I was sailing through the air. I twisted in the air as I aimed for my section of safety, and slammed hard into the sludge. Bones in the mud crunched under my weight as the breath was knocked from me and I rolled, my brain rattled as I turned over and over. My arm twisted under me at a horrid angle as I felt small snaps reverberate up my arm. But I only had a few moments to run into the safety of a dark tunnel opening, away from the serrated teeth that came over the edge.

Everything shook as the wyrm lept into its den, dropping like a rock as it impaled itself on the bone spikes.  One moment it was writhing in the open air and the next a limp, oozing, body was in front of me, its mouth still open to swallow me. I still couldn’t breath as I laid back against the mud, all the times I fell from trees and knocked the wind out of myself did not compare to this as I was exhausted and tempted to weep at my victory as I finally regained the ability to draw breath. I turned over in the mud and noticed the wrong bends of my left hand, fingers not responding as they slanted at extra joints. My hand was mangled from when it had been slammed under me

I crawled my way from the tunnel entrance, wincing at the red of my blood that was dripping down my arm and into the mud as I pulled myself up my undisturbed bone ladder. My right hand was still holding the bone blade I had used to cut open my arm, making it a struggle to climb up with only one arm.

I pulled myself over the ledge, hooking my knee over the edge in aid before I was grinning up at where Amarantha sat. That white dress taunted me as she looked down over the edge of the trench.

“Well,” Amarantha said as smirked down “I suppose anyone could have done that.”

I changed my grip ever so slightly on the bone before I was taking a running start. A few steps as I hefted the bone above my shoulder and twisted, a shooting star of visceral. It reverberated as it sank into the mud at the edge of her feet, spattering and ruining that white lace. Gasps of spectators at the quivering bone as I turned to them, the ones who had bet on mine and Feyre’s death, who saw me as a little rat to feed to their snake.

“What?! Is this not what you were here for?” I screamed at them, raising my good arm to them, and they were silent as I raged. “You bet money on my life, but I am the one who won! This is a show for you, so tell me, are you not entertained? Did I give you a good enough performance?” I let it pour from me as blood dripped down my ruined finger tips. And there was a pause, a contemplating silence before the roar of the crowd was back, cheering. I wanted to collapse to my knees even as adrenaline raced through me, and I hung my head ever so slightly.

The blood dripping down my side was not from the slice to my bicep, the cut went under the river of iron coming from an impaled shard of bone through the top of my shoulder. I quickly looked away as the pain split through me, still dulled enough by the adrenaline that I did not black out on the spot.

“Such an eloquent speech, and I am sure you will be happy to know that a good deal of my court did lose their money, all but one.” She said it with a sigh like it was a domestic matter as she waved away a servant who had come up to here with a spread scroll with what I assumed was the bettings. Now she held the paper, examining it further, “Yes, most did bet you would die in the first minute, then five, but only one for victory.”

I knew who it was without having to look at him, hoping the silver I had added to the lining of his pocket was enough to get Amren some nice jewelry as my head swam. Maybe the pain was starting to overtake me.

“Take her away, I have grown tired of it.” Though her intonation was casual, her hand had tightened to white knuckle her arm rest as she made another cool command, “Rhysand, come here.”

I winched, both at the threat the words posed and at the jarring pain that had me biting back a scream as the Attor swept me up from the wyrm den. The red skinned guards grabbed for me as I was dumped at floor level, hauling me off to the cell. I passed out as I was thrown to the stones, smearing the mud that still clung to me.

Chapter Text

Days passed where I laid in that filthy room, mud slowly drying and cracking to cover the floor in fine dirt. I would only wake for an hour or so at a time, enough to eat the food that was delivered and pass out again at every small jostle of my body. My wounds didn’t end with being impaled and the shattered hand, the cut in my arm starting to ooze with a pungent green pus mixed with red and black. My skin was irritated like I had rubbed coarse sandpaper against it in my sleep, but with every nerve lit up in pain it did not compare to the agony of swallowing down the meals or water or to simply breathe. Glass slid down my throat at every movement and would send me into a coughing fit that would only serve to agitate it more. 

I had changed out of the mud soaked clothes in sections of consciousness, and luckily I was not growing cold in the cell as a fever warmed me . I squeezed at the cut in my arm as often as I could, pushing the infection from it as much as my body allowed me until I passed out with fresh red blood running down my arm. I left the bone in my shoulder, unable to pull it out and old knowledge of not pulling out a knife when you get stabbed enough for me to languish in my cell. I kept far away from prodding at the hand that sat against the floor during all of it, not even looking at the mottled purple skin that had new bends in it.

The screams down the hall kept me company enough even in my dreams, blonde female bodies crucified with thorns ripping at pale and supple skin. Those were the easy nightmares, but the ones of screeching metal and my own screams were the ones that drew me from sleep to push and prod at my wounds. My vision had started to waver after one such dream, like a heatwave coming off of asphalt. The shadows pulsed with my heart beat behind my eyes and I watched them writhe and condense, then Rhysand was stepping from them in a languid stride. 

“What a sorry state for the champion of the courts,” He smiled cynically down at me, his eyes glinting in the reflection of the hall light off the stones. He looked like death coming to claim me as I coughed in reply. “What would your little Tamlin say if he saw you in such a state, rotting away as fever cooks you from the inside out.” He sniffed at the room and grimaced at the small bucket that had been provided for my latrine.

I nearly whimpered as I swallowed down a glob of saliva, just to wet my throat as I croaked out, “I do not give a single damn what he has to say,” a cough, “heal me or no one is getting out from under this mountain free, Rhys.” The simple energy to speak drained me and my chest was heaving as I set my head back against the rock of the wall.

“You wish to solicit the healing services of the High Lord of Night?” he implored, amusement sparkling in his words. I was starting to sweat, from either his presence or the fever burning me or both, I did not know. 

“Figured I made you enough money to pay for it.” I shifted and did whimper this time as the angle put pressure on the backside of the bone piercing me and dragged my hand ever so slightly against the stones. Rhysand’s eyes moved down to the ivory, and the light in his eyes dulled just a bit at it. He stepped closer to me, leaning ever so slight down to study the protrusion. 

His hand reached out to my shoulder, stopping a few inches away, “May I?” I gave him a short nod before clenching down my teeth as his fingers graced along the bone. Fire so hot it should have cauterized the wound lit across my body and I was sobbing out curses against the pain.

“How wonderfully gruesome that is indeed.” He smiled down at me, cruel in his mask. His hand slid down from my shoulder and grasped my bicep. Puss coated his fingers as he lifted my arm up and he spotted the twisting hand, “Truly distasteful to have you rot down here.” He set the arm down gently as to not rustle it farther, and wiped the puss away on his trousers, a pale green sheen ruining the black, then returned his hand to his pocket.“Sadly I do have enough gold to last me for eons, so I am afraid that payment has become inoperable.”

“You’re a lousy Knight, you know that?”I let out a rasping laugh as my eyes watered as I asked him,”What do you want then? What deal do you want to make?” The fever had definitely made me delusional as the words bit out, irritated and put on an emotional edge from the pain and steady fear that I would not make it and that my clumsiness would kill both me and the people I left in this world.

“I heal your arm in exchange for you. Two weeks of my choosing every month once this trial business is over where you will live with me, in the Night Court.” He sounded like I was the one trying to screw him over as I laughed out shallowly.

“Deal” I took the bargain the moment he said it.Really I had no true tying to it no matter his terms but the pain was getting to me and the promise of magic was like morphine getting pumped into my wounds.

His brows furrowed and I saw the hand in his pocket clench, “No bargaining? You are just accepting the two weeks?”

“That is what I agreed to isn’t it? Though you might be disappointed when you can’t get to cash in your compensation, with how these trials seen to be going.” Yes the fever had driven me to insanity and boiled away my filter and will to preserve myself for the next two months. “And it's not like I have any other choice, it's that or die here, now.”

Cold rushed through me as Rhy’s nodded his head, stiff with some perplexing emotion at my easy acceptance. He grabbed my shoulder with one hand, then the other that had freed itself from his pocket was pulling at the bone, yanking it through me and leaving a gaping hole. The cold turned to numbness that tingled across every surface of me and I heard the squelch of flesh and groaning of bones. There was a splattering sound next to me before the cold retreated and I was left in my skin. I shivered against the cold as all heat had been pulled from me along with the fever.

I looked down at my arm and was brought an art work. I flexed my fingers and moved my arm, rolling my shoulder as I pushed off from the wall to stand, and the ink moved with the skin as I did so. It was unreal to watch it shift over the contours of my muscle and bones and tendon, not just because it was magic. I was in awe as the ink was different than what I was promised, the floral design I had been prepared to see no where along the skin, instead it was replaced with cresting waves that swiveled down my arm, birds diving down into the surf. It was breathtaking as I watched the bands of ink flow into each other, not as dense as the lace-like glove I had been expecting  and I could see past the created images as I saw the runes swirled in with it. They were not clear but the repetition in the patterns caught my eye, like a derivation of cursive as it curled around me. And it curled down my hands to condense into the eye at the center of my palm. I clenched my fist, covering the eye.

“It’s pretty.” I breathed out, then I shot my eyes up, remembering the man I had made the bargain with. He was still there, standing in a corner adjacent to me as he stared at me, at my wide eyes that beheld him. I looked over the small slivers of exposed skin I could see, but they were still the bare creamy skin from before. “Where is your ink?”

Honestly it had been bothering me since I had first read the series, the lack of his end of the deal inked to his skin. He tilted his head at the question, or maybe the lack of shock at the tattoo before he took a breath and explained.

“The ink is only a reminder to uphold one’s end of the bargain, my half has been fulfilled now that you are fully healed.” Still I frowned as I stared at him down, it was unfair for me to have a full sleeve of tattoos while he was spared, though the feathers and sea froth might have clashed with the Illyrian tattoos that I knew splayed over his shoulders. 

“Well, thank you, I guess.” I huffed as I looked at where I had been sitting, a small pool of puss and blood soaking into the hay. “Can you at least clean my bed? Your magic is messy.”

His laugh was deep and sardonic as he waved his hand and the hay was replaced with blankets and a pillow, all of which looked heavenly. “You humans are so demanding.” 

I was exhausted as I sat down in the new blankets, while I expected a hard cold floor just under them I bounced lightly and I pulled them back to see a small cot. The blankets were plush under my hand, the underside of them furlined as they tickled my newly tattooed palm.

“Thank you, Rhys, really.” I couldn’t look at him as I said it, not at the burning rawness in my throat as I worked through the thoughts seared my mind. He made a dismissive grunt and I saw the shadows retreat back to him and I had to look up. He was shrouded in the shadows, almost completely gone and if I squinted I could have sworn I saw them condense even deeper where a pair of wings would peek over his back. 

“Rest up, Feyre, you are going to need it” He said and then it was just his eyes left staring at me. Those violet, star-flecked eyes that held so much promise of pain for those opposing him and compassion of those closest to him.

“See ya soon, Rhys.” He was gone before the words were gone and I hoped I had imagined the stars in his eyes flashing brighter before a ripple of darkness that nipped at my exposed skin as I nestled into those new blankets. Without the worry of dying from infection and the new ink to trace my fingers over I found a peaceful sleep.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

The dreams that found me were sweet with dripping honey and when I awoke it was slow and lazy as I tried to hold onto it. The memories of what dreams held disappeared with my door swinging open and those red skinned faeries dragged me from my room and threw me in some nondescript hallways with a bucket of already dirty water and fraying brush.

They threatened me with torture if it was not shining and spotless by dinner time. Then had left shortly after that with a few slurs hurled my way before I set upon scrubbing the floors. How the white marble had become so filthy I had no idea, but I started by using the dry brush to scrape out the piles of dirt and dust into small piles down the hall. It was like a handheld broom while it was dry and even though I knew the bucket of water was spelled to make the floor dirtier it felt good to have a task to do.

I moved the small piles of dirt together on one side of the hallway before wetting the brush and scrubbing at the grout lines between the marble tiles. Mud came away, thick as the mud I had been sloshing around in in the middengaurd wyrm’s lair, and didn't stop coming away no matter how much I scrubbed at the one spot. My back and arm burned as I kept scrubbing, and I had to take a break as my hand cramped so painfully I smacked it against the floor in hopes of stopping the cramp.

I sat back, using my calves as cushion as I took a breath and studied the blue-black ink of the tattoo across my skin. The blues complimented well with the gold tan the skin still held from nearly half a year in eternal bright spring. Where crests of waves traced down to my fingers , mixed with birds, my shoulder was the clouds above the sea. They still swept and curled like smoke over the parts I could see, they were distinctly different and lighter in feeling. The ink swept up to my collar bone, webs of the blue kissing it before they curled back in on themselves to play with the other swirling tufts of cloud.

I set back to scrubbing the tile with a groan. Maybe it was hours or minutes that passed but I was getting ready to break the brush across my knee as I had not moved from my spot and still mud kept coming up, thickening even as I used the brush to wash it away in the water of the bucket. 

A door clicked and I looked up quickly, thinking it was the red skinned guard to take me and throw me over a spit as they promised. I almost sagged when I saw the flaming red hair, prepared to curse out Lucien before a dress followed the red hair. It was his mother dressed in deep reds, the same shades of deep ruby and amber that complimented her son so well. Russet eyes connected with mine as she walked toward me.

I tilted my head down, a bow as I was already kneeling, and I saw her incline her own chin in response. “For giving her your name in place of my son’s life,” her voice reminded me of peach cobbler topped with caramel as she drew closer, and I knew she had seen her son dragged in front of the crowd to be made a spectacle of, of her other sons taking glee in their brother’s near death. Long fingers of soft rose skin pointed at the bucket and the smell of roasting chestnuts wafted for just a moment before she moved past me.  “My debt is paid.”

I did not get to thank her or say anything at all before she was gone through the other side of the hallway. I took to scrubbing the floors with a fevor as I did not know how much more time I had left to complete my task. 

The tiles were gleaming by the time the guards came to fetch me. Their discontent at not being able to punish me was obvious as they chucked me into the cell with a plate of bread and watery gravy. I did not sleep well that night as my bones ached from the repeated motions, my fingers cracking and popping every time I moved to grasp something.

Chapter Text

The next morning I was dragged from my cot once again and put into an expansive bedroom, instructed to clean the fireplace of lentils before the occupant came back lest I wish to be skinned and flogged. I knew Rhys wouldn’t punish me but still I caught the tin bucket they threw at me before they slammed the door so hard the floor beneath me reverberated. Leaving me in the bedroom of the most powerful High Lord of Prythian history.

I snooped for the first hour, looking over an enormous bed that looked like 3 people could sleep on it without knowing of the others. The sheets were silk ebony where they were tightly drawn over the mattress, undisturbed from a night of sleep. I grimaced at the thought of him being called to service the queen of the mountain. His closet was devoid of anything, the same thing with his bedside tables. 

There were no books or personality, it was strictly a place to sleep if he even did that. My throat was tightening as I knelt before the fireplace and started rubbing my hands through the soot to find these lentils. I would have been tempted to just light the fire and burn away the lentils if I could find anything to start the spark. But I spent hours sifting through it until the soot had traveled up to my elbows, not to mention the amount of soot that had smeared into my clothes, and covered most the tattoo that was on full display on my left arm. I stared at where the black covered the blue and wondered why neither the guards or the Lady of the Autumn Court had said anything.

But my eyes were burning and watering as I stared back into that black dust, no matter where my hands slid they found more lentils piled in the corners and then I heard the door click. I shifted away from the fireplace and collapsed upon the floor, groaning as I felt the pressure in my back dissipate.

Shadows flooded into the room as the door opened, making the candle flames that lit the room waiver and swirl in the air before settling on the bed to form the solid shape of Rhysand. “As wonderful as it is to see you, Feyre, darling,” Rhysand said, sprawled on the bed, his head propped up by a hand, “do I want to know why you’re digging through my fireplace?”

It was so wrong for him to call me that, it made me want to cower and hide from his gaze like a spooked animal but I looked up at him from where I laid on the floor, propping my own head up on my hands as I rolled over, a mirror to his own position. I cringed internally at the soot from my hands that would no doubt smear against the hair and my scalp, it was welcome enough though as my hair had turned heavy with oil after weeks with no soap.

“Blame the apparent servant that dumped a whole tray of Lentils into your fireplace, gave me another chore to do while I waited for you to come back and filet me open, if my guards are to be trusted.” I spoke as I stretched against the stone floor, soot falling from me as I moved.

“Oh did they?” He said with that seductive, mocking tone as I hummed in affirmation.  Maybe the smell of burned wood would cover the permeating reek of unwashed human skin.

“Yup, was prepared to have to run for my life yet again.” I hid the guilt that gnawed at me behind the humor. But Rhys laughed as he shifted closer to the edge of the bed and looked down at me still laying on the floor.

“And your first steps to running include lying on the floor?” I nodded at his question, and moved against the floor to rotate around and sit on the ground while I forced the brunt of my weight on my elbows.

“Figured if that plan failed I could just bite you, you do know how well I bite.” This time he did laugh as a feline smile soaked his face with dark joy. It was still his mask but I could see the enjoyment behind it and felt a similar enjoyment of the conversation bubble in my own heart.

“While I would love for a pretty woman’s mouth on me, I am glad to see you have succeeded in your task.” A blush warmed my ears spread down to my cheeks at the flirt as I stuck my tongue in my cheek and looked back at the tin bucket I had been given to see it full of dusty green lentils. I shook my head at him as I stood from my position and dusted my clothes, black dust falling around me and dirtying the floor. A brush of darkened wind swept away the soot from both me and the floor and I looked at him.

“You are a peculiar female, Feyre.” He was studying me like I would a squirrel before I released the arrow, “Most would be begging me for mercy, to spare their lives, if they met me a single time.” 

“Maybe I know a good male when I see one, and if I recall you already spared my life, twice,” I waved two tattooed fingers in front of me as I punctuated my words and I walked towards him and sat on the edge of the bed next to his feet. His stare felt hot against my skin as he still looked at every movement I took, rubbing at my tender knees from kneeling for hours cleaning today and the day previous. 

“I fear who you think is a bad man then, Feyre.” I rolled my eyes as I laid down on his bed , staring up at the ceiling as my arms spread, my tattooed forearm brushing against his calf. 

“Has anyone found out about our bargain yet?” My thumb traced along the inside of my ring finger, a comforting touch as my stomach turned at the thought of Amarantha already learning of it, of the Lady of Autumn blabbing to get into the queen’s good graces at the price of my head.

“Guilt riding you a bit hard? Your little prince charming would be so wounded to find out his little prize has sold half her life to his enemy.”

“Rhys.” I said it sharply, he knew none of that was true but was just trying to drag me to toy with him rather than discuss the important things.

“No, they have not.” A short answer this time

“Well I expect you to want to make a large statement with it, don’t you? Betting that I survived the first trial and now betting that I will win all of them?” I felt the weight on the bed shift and his eyes looked down from above me. Even without the power of Calanmai I could get lost in the expanse of those eyes as he looked at me.

 “Am I so predictable that a mortal woman has me figured out already?” I smiled up at him, it was almost domestic the way his eyes shone back at me, the strong column of muscle in his neck that kept his head steady above him, the arm he planted next to my head to keep steady as well. I suppressed the heat at my cheeks that had no doubt risen to a flush, that life of domesticity was not mine to claim.

I shrugged against the silk of the bed, “Not my fault all you High Lords only care about are theatrics.” The night bore down on me and I wanted to wiggle and escape from that stare but I held it like I had held Amarantha’s stare everytime I saw her. Despite the difference of scenarios, this one felt much more important to my survival. He pulled back first, standing from the bed as he swung his legs over the foot of the bed in a controlled arch.

“I find myself unable to decide if I should praise or condemn your bravery for mocking a High Lord.”

“Forgive me, I didn’t think the most powerful High Lord needed a mortal’s praise and supplications.” My words were soaked with sarcasm as I flourished a hand. I did raise myself from the silk and padded infront of where he was standing in front of the hearth.

“Foolish indeed.” He held my eyes and I sharpened that blue-gray to a steel as the door clattered open behind us, my guards having come to fetch me after what they thought was adequate time for Rhys to punish me. He looked at them over my head, and oh gods was he tall as I stood so close to him. I hadn’t noticed the exaggeration of the height difference when we danced but with a foot of room between us I had crane my neck nearly fully back to still study his face as he spoke.

“She completed her task, take her back” The words were even as he waved a hand. Their hands grabbed me and Rhysand’s face twisted into a smile of sharpened teeth that held no soft banter like the small smirks I had seen from him. ““No more household chores, no more tasks,” The words were as sharp and cool as a blade being dragged across tender skin as his shadows seeped into his black clothes and made them unfathomable in their darkness, “Tell the others, too. Stay out of her cell, and don’t touch her. If you do, you’re to take your own daggers and gut yourselves. Understood?”

They took a step back from me as their eyes glazed, no doubt him having slipped into their minds to embed the command. This time they beckoned from me and I turned towards Rhys.

I said a quick thank you as he eyed me and escaped back to my cell, the cold stone familiar as I laid in my bed. My thoughts would not stop flooding me, evaluating what the easy banter changed, if it would ruin the future plans for the tasks. But it didn’t logically make sense to tamper with it significantly, so that left me with undirected anxiety that twisted my stomach enough to where I didn’t touch my bland food.

Days passed where I sat in the damp room, only left to fall into familiar motions of exercise and stretching. The silence was only punctuated by grinding metal and stone when the door was opened to slide in a meal. I was never one to stand the silence so I took to making small rhythms by thumping my feet or hands, snapping my fingers, and it helped stave off the creeping boredom that whispered for me to just sleep the time away. 

No one came to see me during those days, and I did not even see the eyes of the guards that gave me food. So it was only me, in the dark as I let myself leak into the silence. The shadows were my permanent companion so I talked to them, nothing consistant or sensical, just ramblings as they came to me.

Then Nuala and Cerridwen appeared from the shadow and stones. Their faces were blurred as the shadows that made them were not solid, fuzzed out like smeared charcoal. But from what I could discern the twin wraiths were long and lithe as wisps of fabric making their cobweb dresses that swayed with the shadows. They did not speak as they reached for me and I gently placed my hands into their palms, accepting as I gave them soft smiles.

The hands I held were cold but firm underneath the shadow, like grasping an arm covered by flowing chiffon. They pressed to me, our bodies compacting to slide through the door. Flowing through solid matter made my stomach whoop but then we were on the other side, solid again. We walked through the halls and though we passed by nearly a dozen faeries no one glanced at us. Invisible.

We went through a maze of dusty hallways, some in slight disrepair until we came upon a tall wooden door. They guided me into the room, slightly larger than my cell with a tub in one corner and a mirror along the other wall. Nuala stripped me of my clothes while Cerridwen drew a steaming bath that I was pushed into, plucked and shaven before they scrubbed until my skin was half-raw. They pulled me out of the water, patting me down with a soft white towel before they stood me in front of the mirror.

They each took up a brush of black ink that they dragged across my skin. I flinched away from the cold where they started along my side and back and was squirming away from the ink fully as they drew closer to my breasts and lower. Despite my squirming they eventually finished with the ink that had dried down matte, the texture and color just enough for my tattoo to be distinguished from the swirls.

The two shafts of white gossamer that was used to construct my ‘dress’ were so sheer one could see the swirls of black ink without any struggle. Still I wasn’t freed from this torture that was making me uncomfortable at the core of my being, not as they spread kohl along my lashes and shimmering silver on my eye lids. The rest of my face wasn’t even spared as more cosmetics were laid upon that, washing away color and freckles as they painted me. It felt more violating than the swirls, ripping away what made me more than a fragile human doll to play with by the court under here. 

A small diadem of jutting silver was speckled with amethyst was placed on my head after my hair was curled, complimenting the silver bangles that were clasped upon my wrists and ankles to match with the silver chains and broaches that held the gossamer together. The fabric bunched together to form a solid single panel that fell between my legs just below the chain that formed a low belt.

I looked like the holiest whore I had ever seen as I stared in the mirror, a deep set frown on my face as I saw the twins step back from me as crisps footsteps came from down the hall. I turned to the door and tried to ignore the chill in the air that set my skin prickling as the doorknob twisted. The door opened and I crossed my arms as Rhys appeared before me, propping himself in the doorway. I raised a brow at him as his eyes raked over me, the entirety of me.

His smirk had my hand digging into my arm and I snapped at him, “I do rather like having clothes ,if you could give those back.” That smirk widened even more as he stepped into the room fully.

“I apologize, I found myself needing a escort to the party tonight,” he paused as he dramatically brought a hand up to wipe eye with his pointer finger, “and when I thought of you in that cell, all cold and alone, I just couldn’t leave you there, now could I?” I stepped toward him and smacked his arm lightly as he offered it but still took it a moment later. I scrunched my nose at him along with a snarling grin that mocked his own. 

“You look just as I hoped you would.” He said as he looked down at me, smoothing a lapel of his suit jacket, the first I had seen on him.

“Nude is the best you could come up with? I guess all you males are all so single minded ,no matter the species,” I finished with a small shake of my head as I felt the warmth of his arm soak through his coat and into my bare skin.

“I think you will find my mind quite expansive, Feyre, if you wouldn’t wound me so much as to compare me to your human men.” Nuala and Cerridwen had disappeared at some point, I noticed as I darted my eyes around the small room, probably having melted back into the stones to lurk somewhere else. 

I motioned down to the dress and painted with my free arm, my tattooed arm. “I hope you know all of this is meaningless, I did not come here for Tamlin.” Something hard ran through his stare, maybe at the undercut of bitterness in my words. Really I did not hold any grudge against Tamlin, but the lack of fighting I had seen from him, for his court, was building a hole in my mind for all my frustrations to accumulate.

He leaned down to my ear, slipping his arm away from me to run a calloused finger down the side of my arm, smearing the paint and watching it fix itself. “I don’t like my belongings tampered with, by either High lord or courtier.” and yes there was Lucien, the one I had spent most of my time in Spring with, the one who had dragged me from Rhys at Calanmai, who had said I was his betrothed when Rhys had come the day after Solstice. It was not entirely the caress of his breath along the inner shell of my ear that caused me to shiver, not at the thought of Lucien being in danger for all of that.

I muttered something about territorial fae bastards and he flicked me on my nose for it before he pulled back. “Come now,” He offered his arm again, “We are already late.” He opened the door I hadn’t realized closed and I wrapped my arm around his again.

“Don’t act like you didn’t have it planned for us to be late to make our dramatic entrance.” He smiled down at me, slightly less restrained as his eyes glowed with cunning pride. I rolled my eyes as we started into a soft walk, “Predictable male.”

Then we were walking down the halls, and this time the faeries lining them did take notice of me as they stared unabashedly. It made my skin crawl and more than once I had a shiver rack up my spine from a particularly vile stare. While Rhys walked near silently next to me, my bare feet padding along the floor sounded like gongs as we winded around bends and curves, changing in elevation as we went up and down stairs and inclines. They had already gone half numb from the freezing floors as we walked and I craved for a lick of warmth or cushion on them as the sounds of off kilter music started to trickle to us.

We only had a few more minutes until we were in that throne room, until I was played like a pawn in Rhys’ court scheming. I would play this role though, let it show the other High lords that Rhys had been the one to come and heal me, see him bet on their victory. It was the least I could do for all he had already done for me and that thought made my steps lighten and lengthen as I straightened up. 

If I was to walk into this party of hundreds if not thousands that wanted me  dead I would be proud to be on the arm of a man who could vaporize them if he was given his full power. Then the music was nearer, vibrating through the floor and my pulse quickened. Rhys’ arm tightened just a bit, a reassuring pressure as he no doubt had felt the change through the fabric where the crook of my elbow pressed against him.

The throne room laid before us, and upon a throne I could see over the head of the crowd, Amarantha’s head. I locked on the gold-red as we moved closer. If she wanted to play games I would change the rules on her, would change them for the wonderful people I had fallen in love with when they had just been ink and paper to me.

Chapter Text

The court still clamored around us as they partied, many faeries holding goblets or glasses of blood red wine. Some of the Vanserra brothers were around the entrance of the throne room as we entered and I did have to resist the urge to stare down my nose at them as the crowd parted ever so slightly to allow us to pass through unbothered. Some bowed as he passed, but most gasped and gawked at us -me- as we made a steady path in front of Amaranth. 

I still held my arm looped in Rhysand’s, and as we drew closer the music died down to a simple thrum and the final parts of the crowd parted and we stood just a few feet from the base of the dias she sat upon. I clenched my jaw as I tilted my chin up to stare down the bridge of my nose at her. Tamlin was sitting next to her in his usual garb, not dressed up for the parties I was certain had been happening every night since my arrival, if not before then.

I let my arm drop from Rhy’s as he stepped forward to bow at the waist for her, but I stood straight as I watched Rhy’s straighten before speaking to her. “Merry Midsummer,” he said coolly as I stepped back up to his side as Amarantha surveyed me, covered in ink both temporary and permanent. 

“What have you done to my captive?” She said it with a smile that did not reach past her lips. I was reminded of the women who would get excessive botox and become unable to move their faces at the expression.

“We made a bargain,” Rhysand said as his hand moved to brush a curl that had fallen from its place. The back of his knuckles brushed against my cheek and I knew he felt the muscle in my jaw flutter as I clenched it even tighter against the caress. The merriment that had made the hall boom with poisoned life had died down, a pond going stagnant and filthy as he continued to declare our defiance. “Two weeks with me-at the Night Court every month in exchange for my healing services after her first task.” He raised my left arm to reveal the tattoo that covered it, spread down and over the top of my shoulder blade from what I had glimpsed in the mirror as I was dressed. “For the rest of her life,” he added casually, but his eyes were now upon Amarantha as the statement flooded the room, disturbing the calm surface as whisperes rippled out. Jurian’s eye in Amarantha’s ring watched me almost as intently as his wearer.

“Enjoy my party” Her dismissal as she played with the finger bone that hung between the sharp juts of her collar bone. Then Rhys was turning both me and him away from her throne and to one of the tables heavy with enough food to have fed the entire village for a month. I stared at Rhysand from the side as he led the way, at the elegant nose and sensuous lips. Honestly I might just get drunk enough to excuse myself kissing them one night, hoping that my mind wouldn’t be wiped blank from the alcohol as he grabbed a goblet.

The music had grown back to vibrate the stone against my feet as he offered the goblet to me, “Wine?” I shook my head in response, the metal adorning me rattling at the moment. 

He smiled, and extended the goblet again. “You’ll need it.” and this time I did take it as some magic compelled me to, fingers wrapping around its stem even as I tried to drop it. I wanted to remember, wanted to be aware of what happened each night to prepare, to maybe enjoy the smallest fraction of his company even with the hard mask over himself. I lifted it to my lips and was forced to drink. The last thing I saw were his eyes, and maybe I imagined the guilt there as I disappeared on an alcohol laden wave.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

 I did not know if it was the cold or the headache that woke me up first. My heart beat split my head in two as I hurled my guts into the corner of my room. I was left shivering as I buried myself in the blankets, still only having been clad in the tissue of a dress. I could only grab snippets of sleep as I tossed and turned against the aftermath of fae wines. Alis had said it would be different from solstice wine but by gods it must have been made as a slow torture device.

I did drag myself from the warmth to grab the food being slid in, glad for the blandness for once as I was sure I would have hurled anything more right back up. I guzzled down the small cups of water that accompanied each meal, and it was only after the second meal of the day that I started to feel like a person again. I moved around my room, stretching and massaging sore muscles from whatever dancing I had been doing in my stupor. 

Then the twins came for me again, melting me through walls before we made our way back to that room where I was dressed in a new dress of limpid colors. And each night I was forced to drink that fae wine even as I fought with Rhys every time. Only twice over what must have been weeks of parties had I been successful in dropping the glass, sending wine splashing against my dress and bare feet, but a new glass was put into my hands and I was gone before I could see the staff sweep in around us to clean the red from the tiles.

Every morning, or at least I thought it was morning, greeted me with freezing temperatures that barely lessened the pounding in my head. Maybe a mental sword was being formed for some forgotten war god for how much my skull felt hammered like an anvil. I did not fail to notice the smudges in the paint, only ever tracing my arms and waist, never deviating from their boundaries as the days passed. I was only left with the occasional fuzzed memory, dancing between the spread legs of Rhys while he tipped his head back and laughed at me, of my hands sliding over his stained fingertips from where he grabbed me.

I was in that room again, picking at the mauve dress that had been draped over me for this night. I glanced in the mirror, over my shoulder to where I saw Rhys standing in the doorway, diadem hung loosely on one of his fingers where he twirled it. We exchanged smiles through the reflection, mine soft and sweet and his the wicked one that always accompanied his mask. I turned to him, backing up to the counter top that was under the mirror before I hopped up on the ledge.

He moved to me as I readjusted the chiffon yet again, holding the last bit of my outfit in both of his hands now. The door clicked shut as he paused right before me and I saw words itching under his skin, in his eyes as he stared down at the diadem, running a finger over one of the gems held in it.

“Your second trial is tomorrow night,” He said plainly enough that I shrugged my shoulders with a small huff. He lifted the diadem to my head, setting it down gently as he looked down at me, “It could be your last.” 

“I suppose it could be, but so could have the first one, or the one after this. We will just have to wait and see if I can pull it off, don’t we? ” I said with a stiff smile as I adjusted the head piece to sit at least semi comfortably, puffing out the braid wrapped around my head. He didn’t look quite as amused as me as he took a step back, surveying me where I sat, swinging my legs slightly in the air.

“No begging for a night with your little fox?” He teased and I rolled my eyes. This was another part of the act we put on, where he would tease me before we descended deeper into the belly of the mountain. But Lucien had not come to see me in the weeks I was Rhysand’s toy, and I was thankful he followed my order to watch out for his own hide. The fact that Rhys did think I was attracted to Lucien did not pass me by, and it was a convenient excuse for why I had come under the mountain.

“Would you even grant it to me if I did?” I leaned back on my palms against the table and I saw his eyes follow the casual movement, a panther observing a lounging house cat. 

“Maybe- if you begged prettily enough I would even consider it.”

“And here I thought you were clever, but alas I am disappointed as the fae males continue to lack the imagination I was promised.”A flourish of my hand, “Why do I even bother saving all your sorry asses when this is the gratitude I get.” I laughed out the words as I stared into those eyes. If anything was to addict me in this hellscape it would be them, not the wine. Instead of getting drunk on the alcohol I would instead get drunk on those lips as they traced down my neck and as those hands traced down my sides, not the brushes of finger tips I felt each night-

“Seems as though you can compensate for me plenty with that imagination.” My face burned as I snapped up the shields that I had forgotten to raise when I was roused from my hungover sleep. He had slipped in between the cracks of stone but I couldn’t tell if those thoughts had been mine or supplemented by him. I bit the inside of my cheek as I buried the embarrassment and shame deep, a leaden weight sinking in my stomach.

“Get out of my head, ass” I snapped as I checked over the wall for any cracks. He shrugged his shoulders but the smirk that was near constant on his face during our banter was still there and it infuriated me to no end. I had risked too much with being casual with him, and if I revealed anything to him Amarantha would pull it from him. I would not be the reason he or his family were endangered.

I slid from the countertop and skipped just slightly to shake that weight from my stomach as I came to stand next to Rhys, metal cuffs at my wrists and ankles clicking as I did so. Every evening they accompanied me, shackles attaching me to Rhys even more so than the ink over me. I offered my hand to him and he took it, just as he did every night I offered the hand. It was my own way to tell him I was willing in this, and I hoped every soft look with crinkling eyes as I joked let him know that I saw down to the good male who guided me down those cold halls. I was still barefoot, slippers never having accompanied my costume, and my feet ached with each step against the unforgiving stone. One day I would not be surprised if my heel bone smacked directly into the stone for how much my feet hurt from nights of dancing.

When we arrived at the throne room that should be full of writhing bodies, mine included, something was wrong. A disturbance in the usual pattern as no music was playing, and as everyone had their attention guided to Rhysand as we walked in. I resisted the urge to hug closer to Rhys, away from the stares of Lucien’ s brothers as they all focused on me. Occasionally their matching ember eyes would slide from me and trace the strides of Rhys. I couldn't look at them though, couldn’ t challenge their gazes as Amarantha summoned Rhysand over the crowd.

A moment where he paused, looking towards the brothers that were moving towards me, before one of those warm hands were at my back and guiding along. “Stay close and keep your mouth shut.” He whispered it into my ear and I was able to just barely nod my head as the crowd parted before us. One figure was left in front of us, one cowering figure that was curled over himself as sobs shook him like a leaf on an autumn breeze. 

But he wasn’t Autumn court, no his skin was a deep brown, and the near-white hair that tumbled down his shoulder held the slightest curl in them. Amarantha was staring down at him, a spider having caught a fly in her web, and was so entranced by him that she did not spare me a second glance as she regarded Rhysand as we came to a stop just a stone’s throw from the young man. Tarquin’s cousin was before us, and Tarquin was at the edge of the crowd, the lack of blood in his face visible even at this distance.

“The summer lordling tried to escape through the exit to the Spring Court lands. Tell me why.” She ran a curved nail over Jurian’s eye as it swiveled, turning as he took in the whole room and I could not watch what I knew was going to happen to the young man, so I held Jurian’s stare. I held the stare against the black pupil that dilates and hones in as the eye steadied in whatever fluid suspended it, and I hoped he could read my expression over the distance as I let my eyes soften with sorrow that was my constant soul companion.

Something was happening before me, a blending of voices as I let it fuzz out. I thinned that newly reinforced mental shield and started to steadily push out a thin finger towards the eye. I did not know if it was working, not as I blindly fished the finger in that empty subliminal space, but then I felt a reverberation down the hand I cast, like I had tapped against a window. Jurian’s eye spun wildly in its position before settling back on me, narrowing before it hazed. Though there was no body I swore I could read the expression of a dead man, shock and madness as his chest heaved at the discovery. And I saw him, through that mind eye that did not translate to my eyes in any proper way except for the fact that it was . Jurian’s hair was a mess, curly brown hair matted down to his skull like a helmet as his chest heaved. His mouth moved but I could not make out the words before he was sprinting towards me. I drew back as fast as I could but there was no escaping the mental playing field as he came close and closer and-

I stumbled back to the ground, clutching at my chest as I stared ahead. The fae male was splayed on the ground before me, blood pooling from where it leaked from his eyes, ears, and mouth. Rhysand glanced down at me as snickers erupted across the crowd, and Amarantha was looking down at me with the same smirk she had looked at the now dead man when we had come in. Sweat was lining my skin and the paint was blurring ever so slightly, the taste of blood was in my mouth and I couldn’t control my heart that slammed against the back of my ribs as I quickly got to my feet again. My chest was rising and falling rapidly and if I didn’t get out of the center of the room soon I would break here, seams of sanity coming undone as though Jurian had transferred some of that madness to me.

“I said shatter his mind, not his brain,” Amarantha snapped in irritation as I tried to half-hide behind Rhyland's broad silhouette. He shrugged as the crowd's volume was growing as they talked to each other. Tamlin wasn’t looking at me, but just passed me and into the crowd, his eyes not entirely seeing as he kept his composure.

“Apologies my queen.” Rhysand said as he slid his hands into the deep pockets of his trousers before he turned, taking me along with him as we found our usual spot along the back wall of the throne room. I was trying to keep my quivering muscles in check as we moved, every thought on how to move one foot in front of the other.

The faeries around us crushed in, the wide berth forgotten as the heat of bodies suffocated me. No hands touched me but their voices stabbed into me, “ Whore” one said as Rhys passed, “ Amarantha’s Whore” another called from farther in the crowd. They condemned my soul along with him as I chased his heels, but the majority of the crowd offered weak smiles and reassurances that the death was needed and benefited the court. Rhys did not acknowledge them and I hoped that Tarquin would again recognize that Rhys had spared the faerie male, had spared the whole summer court that was in on the uprising.

Still my heart was hammering and a headache that was left over from the night previous was itching at my temple as I could feel the stare of Jurian on my back. He hadn’t been stopped by my shields when he charged- no I had torn myself into my shell as I saw him slam into an invisible wall. I felt him prowling just behind that invisible barrier that Amarantha was using to preserve him, like a lion behind the glass of a zoo. 

Then there was a cold glass in my hand and I could focus my vision again on reality as I looked up at Rhys. He had a matching goblet in his hand, swirling red wine in it as we made eye contact. My skin prickled under his gaze, and I could see the fracturing night that matched the splintering fractiles of my soul as I brought the glass to my lips and gulped down the wine. I barely saw him mimic the motion and take my hand to guide me to our usual dance before I floated away on the sweeping bliss of wine.

Chapter Text

The Attor stood in front of me, teeth bared like a rabies infected animal as its tail lashed at the cobbles of the wide room I had been dragged to for my second trial early this morning. I had been waiting for what felt like hours as faeries trickled into the rows of seats carved from the gray stone. A quartet was playing somewhere high in the chamber, the sound distorting to something angelic and so out of place for the refraction chamber of malevolence. Most of the seats were filled now, including a secluded section with 6 velvet seats that the High Lords were settled into.

My stomach was twisting so much I was thankful I had not eaten the watery soup that had been given with a slice of bread that morning. The chamber here was cold, so cold that my breath was puffing out in white clouds and my fingers had already gone pink where I exhaled into my hands. It would have been comfortable in any other clothing than the scrap of mauve that I was still dressed in. My feet were numb and starting to border into purple as I tried to keep moving, keep the blood moving so I didn’t freeze in place. 

I had just reached down to massage some warmth into my legs when Amarantha swept into the room in a sky blue and ivory dress, the hems lined with peppered furs. Tamlin accompanied her, still dressed in his dark green and browns as she took a seat in a high backed throne that sat at the center of a semicircle platform against the back wall. I sucked in a breath and straightened to stare at her as I suppressed my shivering muscles. 

She smiled down at me as she motioned to the crowd to quiet with a hand, “Well, you survived this long Feyre, and now your second trial has come.” She was self assured as she said it, like she was finally getting rid of annoying pest infestation. I tried to calm my heart as I avoided looking at the black eye that stared at me with such intensity that my hands started to sweat even in the cold. “Have you figured out that little riddle of ours yet?” 

I only moved to bare my teeth at her, my silence an obvious answer to her as she crossed a leg over a knee. “Too bad,” She sighed it out in feigned disappointment before that festering smile slid back onto her face, it seemed to be her favorite expression despite how tightly it pulled those lips. “But I am sure that we have something that will get your head turning quite soon, don’t you worry.” She waved her hand and the reverberations through the stone below me as the floor started to slide into the walls had me throwing my arms out, stabilizing as I spread my stance.

The floor was split into two, and an open pit was revealed, and the sound of rushing water had my blood pumping with such force through my ears I expected my eardrums to burst. If the room was cold before it now became an icebox as I peered down. My heart dropped so hard I swore I heard it splatter against the exposed rocks below that now flanked a coursing river. There was no Lucien chained to the floor, no red hot spikes to descend upon me if I answered her riddle wrong.

No, instead there was that river that pulled the breath from my lungs and on a small island in the center of the torrent were two crouching figures- two young crouching figures. I couldn’t think to fight back, to figure out a way to defy her as the attor’s claws scooped under me and dove down into the canyon, not as I fell closer and closer to see the two young boys come into focus. Their bark skin was like river birch, wane and peeling as they clung to each other. They both looked just over 12, but I could tell the older boy apart from how he curled around his brother, shielding him from the splashing water.

The Attor dropped me on a beach of bones and clay , the grinded bones making alabaster sands I hadn’t noticed before and I couldn’t draw breath as I looked back up at Amarantha, she looked like a child getting a gift as she clapped her hands together.

“I heard you had a friend with a little birdy, and when I saw that her two little nephews were left all alone in Summer I couldn’t very well leave them there.” She waved another hand and I barely scurried out of place as planks of wood clattered over the edge of the pit. They sprayed sand as they slammed where I had been, a length of rope following after the planks. She had kidnaped Alis’ boys, and they were collateral in my death. Fear collided with white rage that overcame my vision. “The river does like to ebb and flow -quite like your human hearts-, this one likes a two hour cycle and I think the last cycle has just ended, lucky you.” 

One hour, I had one hour to figure out how to get the boys from that small rock and out of this pit. I break my staring contest with her and look up the sheer walls. On the opposite side of the water where I am, there is a hallway opening just a few feet above the floor, warm fire light spilling from it where torches burned just past my eyeline. I couldn’t hear the murmuring of the crowd as I evaluated the resources I had. The river was little over 20 feet wide from one shore to the other, the boys were on a sinking rock at the center. The jeers of the crowd from above spurred me into action as I ran to the pile of wood and rope.

The wood was smooth but I grabbed the rope and started tying knots, testing it with a braced foot before I repeated the knots on another plank. They were beveled at one end, looking as though they were ripped from a suburban fence. Just enough for me to take a few steps back from the water that seemed an inch or so closer than the start of my tying and stab the end of the wood into the clay. It was secure enough for me as I gave it a harsh tug, it had to be enough. With the other secured piece wood in hand I toed close to the splashing water.

“Boys!” I yelled across the water and the one I assumed to be the older one lifted his head to look at me. A single glance and me and him agreed at that moment to work for the smaller boy, whose sobs I could just barely hear over the water. “Can you catch this if I throw it across?” I raise the piece of wood above my head, and maybe I should be more careful how I move around children as the chiffon shifted and I had to use my other hand to keep it from slipping off my breast.I should have made Rhys give me back my clothes last night but with the summer male the thought had slipped from my mind. I could barely see the small nod as the older boy detangled himself from his brother ever so slightly and scooted to the edge of their rock.

Adrenaline was shaking me in place as I pulled my arm back and threw the wood just as I had thrown the bone at Amarantha, but this one wasn’t to show my strength. This one displayed every weakness I had as I watched the wood sail through the air with a trail of rope. He caught it in his hands and before I could guide him on what to do he was shoving it between a crack in the rock he was on. I took one last look to the solid shore under me and grabbed onto the rope that was now just skimming the top of the tide.

I walked into the water, cursing the water felt like ice against my skin. There wasn’t time to tread water though and I was swimming, gripping the rope with both hands as the water ripped at the dress. Paint was smearing down my arms and chest but I couldn’t think past the blistering cold, only giving myself the single command to reach the boys. I reached the rock and tiny hands were at my wrists and pulled me onto the stone.I was shaking as I turned over and hurled into the water, but the rock was even closer to the water now in the minutes I had fought against the water.

Hands were running down my back as I hurled and I heard a chorus of laughter above. I looked up and I could see the small features of the boys now, the older one rubbing my back as I caught my breath.

“Can either of you swim?” The question came out as a choked plea as I pulled my legs under me and looked to the shore that promised the boys freedom. Both of them shook their heads and I swore again. “Okay- shit- Fine, okay” 

I turned and planted my feet along the rock and pulled at the rope to dislodge the plank I had dug into the clay, thankful I hadn’t wedged it in the stones as I dragged it across the water. My back burned at the movements and two sets of arms wrapped around my waist as a surge of water had me lurching just a bit. I paused my pulling for just a moment to ruffle my hand through blond hair on top of the younger one's head. 

The wood clattered along the stone as I hefted it up, the wood having become sodden in its time in the water. I pulled the dry piece from the crack the boy had put it in, replacing it with the wet plank before I told the boys to hold onto the end of the rope as the water was now sliding over my bare feet. I winced as I saw the edges of their trousers darken with water, hoping the boots tied tightly to their feet would keep them dry for a while longer.

I scanned the shore across from us, the shore I would get those boys to, an outcropping of rocks catching my eye where two rocks just barely overlapped, creating a V that would catch the board. One throw, I would have one easy throw before the porous wood became weighed down with water like the other, any throw after that would require twice as much effort and as my arms were already on the verge of shaking from my swim. I had spent years preparing for a small riddle that had been useless and I had endangered Alis and her boys. My eyes ached with the effort not to cry about it, I didn’t have the energy to spare or the humility to let Amarantha see how this was shaking me.

The plank missed the first time I threw it, then the half dozen other times after that. My back and shoulders ached but it finally caught on the stone, the chill from the water being replaced with rolling beads of sweat. A small hand was at my shoulder as I dry heaved over the water the moment I let the rope drop from my hands. I looked into the watery eyes of the younger boy before I knelt on the rock to talk to the two boys. I pulled the younger one under one arm and the older one into the other before I pulled back.

“What are your names?” I should have asked sooner but this next step would require trust I had minutes to earn. The younger boy had a rounder face with blond hair spilling from above to curl into the edges of the bark skin, his eyes the deep brown of rich soil. The older one's hair was a darker brown, almost the same shade as Alis’ and whose eyes leaned more into a honey brown that whispered of sun warmed wheat fields. They might be decades older than me but still they were children that deserved those eternal summer days.

“My name is Beisenn, Ma’am.” The younger one spoke first as he stepped back from my arms to hide half behind his brother. “Are you Auntie’s friend?” I could have cried at the mention of Alis, of what I risked for her by asking her to take me here, the boys who would either die or live because of my foolishness.

I nodded past the tears welling in my eyes, “Yes, your Aunt Alis is a very good friend of mine.” I then turned to the older one who still stayed inside my loosely hung arm. “ I am going to get you and Beisenn out of here, but you have to trust me just till we get over that water okay?” 

His face hardened, just like Alis’ did when she was about to put her foot down against my whining. “My name is Luca,” he looked to his brother and then to me again and I felt his age course through me in that look, “Beisenn gets across first.”

I nodded quickly, and told them of the plan to cross the river. I would cross with one boy at a time, each of us holding the rope until they got to the beach, then we would find a way to get them up to the hallway entrance I had seen. The plan wasn’t perfect but I needed to think and the crushing weight of two boys lives was slightly hampering my clarity. But they agreed after Luca made cut off a length of extra rope from the stake in the rock to tie around me and his brother. 

I was in the water with Beissen, my wrist wound in the loose length as I slowly lowered us into the water. Beinssen’s arms were wrapped behind my neck as I kept him close to me, he had flinched away from the cold of the water when it reached up to his calves that were wrapped around me. He was just like a human child filled with fear that clung close to any adult, and I would make sure Alis saw her boys again in their court. The edge of the rock dropped off harshly when I was submerged up to my waist and I had to heave to keep Beinssen’s head above the water that splashed up around us.

The tide must have gotten stronger since I had first swam across because water was now kicking up around us as we blocked its flow. I was grateful for my wrist wrapped in the rope even as it pulled at the skin as I started making my way across the river. My bones groaned against the cold and I could feel the shivers over taking both mine and Beisenn’s bodies as I dragged us across the water. Eternity passed with each pull along the rope but I gritted my teeth against it. During that eternity I murmured praises into Beisenn’s hair, telling him how brave he was being that it would just be a tad longer now. Halfway across the water the praises turned into reassurances for myself. If I was to die I could never face Alis’ in the afterlife if I was the cause of her only families’ deaths. 

Bone fragments scraped my heels when I finally came in close enough to the opposite shore. The bones on this side were older, yellowed and calcified after what might have been millenia in this pit. Their age also meant they were softer and every step I took against the shore had the bones crumbling under me, any hope for a foot hold slipping away with it. Beisenn was crying again against my shoulder as I pulled us from the water. He was shivering from the cold as I walked him inland, placing him right beside the rocks I had used to secure the plank.

“You did such a great job, now can you wait here while I grab your brother?” I said as I squeezed down his arms, ringing out the frigid water from the cloth. He gave me a sniffly agreement and I was back in the water no more than a moment later.

It was easier to pull myself across without the added weight of a child, but still there were moments I had to pause. In the moments I paused the taunts of the faeries above trickled down. I had been too preoccupied to notice them before, the chorus of slurs and insults having become unimaginative as they ran out of phrases to cheer together. They stoked the fire in me just enough to make it back to the rock, where Luca was standing, water now washing over his ankles fully even as he stood at the tallest part of the rock.

I would have been embarrassed for the scrambling it took for me to meet him up there if it wasn’t for the fact I had lost much of my dignity in the previous nights. I wrapped my arms around Luca as I used the board jutting straight up to stabilize myself, panting. I didn’t have the breath to talk to Luca but he understood enough when I motioned for him to climb onto my back. It should be easier to go through the water on my front rather than on my back. Still my mind nagged at me that it was ridiculous for immortal children who lived in summer court of all places did not know how to swim as I splashed back into the water.

This trek was the least graceful of all as I tugged myself along the rope, often ducking my head underwater just for a break against the sweat pouring from my hair and to cut through the surface tension if only slightly. Luca was silent on my back, arms wrapped tight around my neck as I swam, and did not complain even at the frequent stops I had to make. I was so exhausted, the panic ebbing away at the adrenaline that had been pushing me so far mixed with the fae-wine hangover I would usually be nursing right now. 

I grit my teeth against the rope burn forming in my palm as the water pulls me back slightly, the fibers of the rope cutting into raw skin. I couldn’t wallow in pity as much as I wished to, not with a life literally on my shoulders. Speaking of the life on my shoulders, I looked back towards Luca. His skin that had started to warm to oak bark had waned again, pale and flaky as he shivered against my back. I had to get us out of the water before either one of us succumbed to the cold.

I closed my eyes, no longer looking at the distance I still had to cross as I just moved hand over hand, my legs kicking at the water to push me forward along with my straining arms and core. Then I felt the bone strewn shore scrape along my knee and my eyes flew open. Beisenn was standing on a tall pile of ivory bones, the water has risen enough that only the rock faces are left dry still.  I dig my feet deep into the silt under me as I push up, out of the water as I wade out of the water.

A place where dry bones had crunched under me now had water up to my ankles as I walked Luca over to his brother, water dripping down both of us. My legs are shaking now with full force exhaustion and cold. Luca rushed to his brother, checking him over for any small wound that could have occurred in their separation. I smiled at the siblings, the worry reminded me softly of Nesta checking me over that first night I came back covered in the blood of a rabbit. That first kill had been for our survival as I knew it, and now I would need to continue on for just a month longer.

The promise of my freedom closing in dulled the pain in my feet and legs as I pulled the boys to just under the hallway entrance. I guided Luca to climb upon my shoulders as I kneeled in the bone mush, then offered my small support to Beisenn to climb on top of his brother. Bei was just able to reach the edge of the hallway when he stood on top of his brother’s shoulders and I had risen from my knees.

I felt Luca shift on my shoulders as his heels dug into the side of my chest. The weight above me changed and I heard the small grunts of Beisenn as his brother pushed his feet to have his chest half over the lip of the entrance. Then the weight was gone and I was left with just one child on my shoulders. I put a stabilizing hand against the wall as Luca pulled his legs from my side and moved to stand as his brother had. They were almost free from the pit but Luca was just too short to reach the lip of the entrance, even with Beisenn’s arms now draped over the edge to reach for his brother.

Every part of me shook as I put one of Luca’s still boot clad feet into my hand and pushed. I had to get him up to the small hands reaching for him, then I would curse at Rhys to get them out of here or so help me God. The weight was gone from my wrist and shoulders as I looked up to see a pair of trouser covered legs kick at open air before he was pulled fully over the ledge. I heard the children’s cheering and smiled to myself before I realized I was trapped in the rising water with no base to push me up to that ledge. 

Amarantha’s voice drawled from above and my empty stomach roiled at the sound. “You humans are so narrow sighted as to only see brute force as your way out of trouble? And after my kind sacrificed so many years educating yours and still you are left alone, been abandoned by those you saved.”

I didn’t look up at her as my eyes grew to saucers and I looked over the shore that was washing away under my feet. There, two body lengths to the side of the entrance were three juts of bone that had blended in with the pale stone, one of the bones holding the excess rope I had cut to tie Beisenn to me during our crossing. 

There still was a riddle. My breath was high in my throat as I rushed to the stone they came from. Small words were carved into the stone just above them, and I had to squint to make out the letters and the roman numerals stamped at the heads of each bone. I tried reading the riddle, but my eyes were burning in minutes. Not only was it wordy but it constantly contradicted itself, talk of brothers of stone and sky bickering over who shall own the oceans. I scanned the words for any hint that I could use to quickly find the answer but there were none and I was left in water that had risen to my hips. The bottom of the levers were starting to be covered by water and I quickly grabbed the length or rope before it was swept away. It was a good ten feet long and I made quick work of tying it around my wrist and securing it to a proper jut of stone from the wall so I could assure myself I would not be swept away on the tide.

There was no way I would be able to obtain the answer to this riddle before I was taken to where ever the water led so I would be left to guess. My hand extended toward the second lever, Second trial, Second lever . That was the extent of my thinking as I touched the silver letters. My palm burned with the same pain that had laced up it when I moved the shattered bones in it and I jerked my palm to my chest. The water flow must have increased because it was now licking at my navel as I panted.

The pain jarred me and I looked up to the crowd, searching for the eyes I knew were glued to me. Night sky met steel and I let go of a soft breath, the distance was too great to see his specific expression. Instead I looked to his hands, where they were hidden in his pockets and I knew he was the one sending the searing pain through that tattooed palm. 

I reached for the first one, One human lover, one human betrayer, really my rationalizations were becoming far more poetic than Amarantha’s weak riddle of love as I cursed at Rhysand for the pain that had me gritting my teeth against a wail. That left me with one lever, 3, and something clicked in my head.

Three trials, 3 sisters, and the riddle wasn’t of two brothers, but two eldests who spoke over the youngest brother who already played in the tides. I yanked the lever down with all my might, ignoring any pain that could sprout against the movement but none came as I heard stone groan once again.

I whipped my head around desperately to see the stone below the alcove opening slide back into the wall to form a ramp up. The harsh movement of my torso had cost me stability, though, and my feet slipped under me as bone silt was washed away from under my sole. I hit the water hard and was dragged a few feet down before the rope around my wrist grew taught and stopped me abruptly. My shoulder barked in pain as I resurfaced, sputtering up filthy water. I dug my feet deep into the bones below me, ignoring small sharp fragments of bone as I stood on shaky legs and unhooked my wrist from the rope slowly.

One foot moved an inch at a time as I hugged close to the stone wall, fingers gripping into whatever hold they could find even as the stone cut my finger pads. I came to the corner of the now open hallway and wrapped my hand around it as I quickly slung myself around. The suction of the water tried to pull me back but I was scrambling up the stone, desperate to get out of the water. I got to the top of the ramp and saw the two boys there just as I heard a chorus of boos from the open arena as more groaning stone was heard. The pit I came from grew darker until there was only a single candelabra on the wall illuminating the boys as they crowded to me. I hugged them as I limped further into the hall and away from the sound of crashing water.

Swirling shadows gathered and condensed to form Rhysand, grinning as he looked at me holding the boys close to me as I shook from the cold that had certainly made my lips blue by now.

“Get them out of here.” The words were sharp and Rhysand’s smile dropped as he saw my shaking was not just from the cold but a burning hatred that was threatening to send tears cascading down my face. I gave a quick squeeze to each of the boys shoulders with small murmurs of promise that Alis will be waiting for them when they get home before Nuala and Ceridwen came from the shadows and each took the hand of a boy as they moved down the hallway.

“How did she get them?” The tears were falling now as I saw Rhys’ face tighten. I was terrified, so terrified that I would have to live and die with the blood of two boy’s blood on my hand joining that of Andras’.

“I don’t know” his words were quiet and then he was gone, melded back into the shadows in the stone as the clattering sound of Amarantha’s lackeys came down the hallway. They must be coming to fetch me to throw me back into my cell. So I wiped my eyes and stood with as much composure as I could, hoping the dim lighting and cold would account for the blotchy redness of my face from my quick lived rage.

The warmth of terror washed away to cold shame mixed with some other emotion as I let them drag me through a series of tunnels till they found the cellar again. My cot was a familiar plushness as I wrapped myself in the furred blankets and sobbed myself to sleep.

Chapter Text

I do not know for how long I sobbed or slept, both happening interchangeably as I hid my face in the blankets. I felt unable to even face the shadows that held their spots in my cell. I often find myself biting into my hand to muffle the sounds , hoping Rhysand felt the dig of teeth into scabbing palms. He had to have known Amaratha had the boys, and god how long had she had them under her? Had they been in a cell near mine, one of the dozens I passed every night to be dragged up to the parties?

How could they ever forgive me, how could Alis forgive me? They had seen me smiling each night as I was led out, happy to dance in a court of their captors. Even if Alis forgave me it would be over a corpse, and I would never be able to apologize to her. It sent me into another sobbing wave.

The shadows that whispered in the corned wobble slightly, like air rising from a hot road and I drew the blanket over my head, turning my body to the damp stone wall. I felt his presence join me in the cell, I could hear the scrape of hard soled shoes against the rough stone as he took a pace forward.

“Still weeping?” The words were teasing and sent a hot bolt of rage through me that quieted my sobs. My hands tightened in the blankets and I could feel my nails form crescent indents in my palm 

“You won her trial,again. Tears are unnecessary.” 

I sat slowly from the cot, blankets pooling around my hips as I looked at him. Despite the heat of anger boiling my blood I felt icy disbelief paint my face as I gaped at him, disgust plain at the words. I looked him over, hair combed and his normal black clothes pressed finely.

“Did you know?” The words were louder than I anticipated, and I sounded sick from all the sobbing that had worn my throat raw. His eyes dropped to the floor with a small nod and I was on my feet pushing my shaking arms at his chest.

He hadn’t had time to brace himself against my anger enforced shove and he staggered back as I screamed at him. “Get out! Leave!” The tears were back, burning down my face as my heart twisted into knots. He knew, he had known the boys had been trapped for two months down here. I cursed myself a fool for being too open with him. I might remember him being a sweet male on pages but I also remembered the dozen children in winter court that were dead, the male with his wings torn from him, the head piked in the garden. 

He caught my wrists, holding them both in one hand as I thrashed against the grip. Still he held them steadfast as I kicked at his shins, he did not pull me off my feet when I knew I had struck an especially tender spot at the top of his foot. The anger trickled out of me as tears came back stronger than before and I was left hanging limply from my wrists, just as I had when I had been swept from my feet in the water. He eased me back to the cot as I sobbed more, then he sat next to me with his own head in his hands.

“I’m sorry.” His words caught me off guard as I watched him from the corner of my eye, drawing my knees up to my chest to cover myself just a bit, the gossamer gown I still wore from last night -or was it two nights ago now?- having become more tattered and useless in covering anything. “I knew she had something relating to a servant in Spring Court, but I didn’t know they were children, or that they were involved in the trials.”

I couldn’t comfort him or tell him I understood, not when I don’t know where my emotions were trying to lead me, but I lean against him. It's what I can offer, a solid body next to his and an acknowledgment of his own turmoil. Moments of tension filled silence held between us like a taught string ready to be cut before he rose, dusting his pants of dust that did not exist.

“There is no party tonight, your services are of no need but we will return to normal tomorrow night.” He didn’t look at me as he walked into the shadows and disappeared with a ripple of sea scented wind. 

I stared into the space he left, the shadows darkening and then lightening back to their normal as I felt drained. Normal, the parties were becoming normal and I was craving the release of body and soul the wine would give me night after night. Maybe the wine had addicted me already, and I was at its throes as I no longer wept. The tears dried against my skin and I continued to stare, unseeing as I contemplated all the prayers and apologies I would have to send out between now and the final trial. 

I ate the backlog of slipped food trays I had been ignoring, cold soup and stale breads filling my stomach but I still felt hollow inside. I was waiting now, no more preparations to be made or scheming to think of as I awaited my execution. 

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Nights did return to normal, though the jokes and smiles and playful insults between me and Rhys had died after the night he had visited me in the cells. Now I only followed him like a cowed dog having had its manners beat into it as I readily drank the wine each night, occasionally spurring the burn in my veins with a second glass before Rhys could stop me. Then I would sleep away the majority of my free time, dreaming of darkened waters and twisting bone before I would wake just to stare into that unwavering darkness until the wraiths came to fetch me.

I felt hollow and it was okay, good even, not to feel the shame that would burn me deep in the recesses of sleep. I wasn’t Feyre and I had done too much to change the story before and it had nearly gotten me and those two boys killed. I didn’t want to think about that so I drank and slept and drank again, it let me sink into the hollowness like a deep pitted bathtub of warm bubbles. 

It was rare occasions that the crying would come back to me to burn that hollow cavity in me, like a flash fire before it died out and I was just slightly charred. Those nights would only happen would I awake from a memory; a hunt with Lucien where I ranted to him over the discontinuities between two texts in Tam’s library, or me weaving a flower crown with flowers of Queen Anne’s lace (I never did learn the name of the flower in this world, perhaps it was just wild carrot) for Elain, or the days of time I would spend with those aged artisans and craftsmen of the village. Memories I never made also came to me, of chasing the Beisenn and Luca down along Summer Court shores as Alis watched us from under a heavy hat, me spending time in the kitchens with Spring Staff to prepare a nightly dinner. Everything soft and domestic came to me in nights of harsh stone and shadow. A life line that dangled just outside of my reach and made my heart wail even more for the inability to grasp it and the traitorous feelings of glee at not being able to.

Maybe weeks passed with me in those alcohol laden dreams, but the dark was becoming a comfort. I cringed away from the torch light when Nuala and Ceridwen brought me through the halls, and even further cringed from the image of myself in the mirror of the dressing room as I watched my tan leach away. The golden brown hair lost its luster along the nights and now hung like limp waste around my shoulders. My eyes had sunken and the bags under them were a bruised purple. I was a dead man walking. Me laughing at that little joke in my head had the twins looking at me with worry as they painted me and further worried Rhysand when I shared the thought with him on grape reddened lips.

I was so far sunken into that warm darkness of the heart I started to imagine warping shapes in the shadows of my cell. Sometimes they took the shape of a prowling wolf, gold eyes shining as they pinned on me and shared every thought of disgust at his long dried blood on my hands and clothes, other nights they were waltzing couples that got tangled in the vines of a garden walkway and fell. Maybe I could start to understand Amarantha’s pension for cruelty at the thought of Nesta or Elain being butchered at the hand of some pompous lordling that must have asked for Elain’s hand by now.

Some nights the dark did not change all that much and I stared at the night sky of my own world, eyes tracing constellations that did not exist. Those nights were the simplest, where I could see and not think of my own troubles but the troubles of men and women who found themselves immortalized in the tales of the stars. One night music had started to trickle into the cell, light and soft as a mother’s lullaby as it weaved bright stories of blooming loves and summer nights. I cursed Rhysand 7 ways to Sunday that night as I growled the words into the center of my palm. But it did reawaken a spark in me, a spark of hate and promise for blood shed against the thought of trampling armies on the human realms if I did not succeed in my final days.

I asked Nuala the next day how many days were left until my trial, and she smiled at the spark in my eye, mistaking it for a vigor for life, as she told me two days. Good I could tend the fire of my anger for two days, had been letting that anger burn in me for far longer than that and three measly months here would not have it dying in its hearth. I would set this underground Court on fire before I let that happen, let everyone down here suffocate on the smoke before that.

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The final night of partying was like every other except for the fact I was not drunk off my rocker already, Rhysand having been careful to keep me from the table of wine that whispered for me to indulge in its swirling liquid. My gossamer was a pale blue tonight as I waited along the stone walls of the  ballroom as Rhysand laughed with some fae that looked like they were from Autumn Court, and the supple bodied female that was already clinging to him as her yellow hair fell to the floor like a pile of molded straw.

My mouth was dry but I was not so idiotic to believe if I left this wall I would be safe from the sharp gazes of the Autumn Court lordlings that still followed me each night. I could barely remember the eldest brother, Eris, having some redemption arc but I hadn’t paid much attention in the later books and still felt no need to lavish over the details I could remember. So I stay against the wall and rested my feet as I crossed my ankle over the other and my arms over my chest.

I spent the time observing the mess of bodies around me, lesser and high fae alike mingling as they danced and chatted together. Then there was Tamlin, still sat in his chair next to Amarantha’s throne and dressed in his greens and gold. There were no blades in his baldrick and his golden hair that had simply been long before had grown shaggy and frizzy under the stone. His eyes did not scan the crowd but looked ahead, vacant. There was a brush of a hand at my arm as I saw a flash of wine red hair.

I had told Lucien to stay away but he did not listen. I watched him slip into a storage door obscured by a tapestry of a sword piercing a sparrow just below the wing. I shot a quick glance over to Amarantha but found her leaning over the arm of her throne, a heavy wine goblet to her lips as she cackled with a doe legged woman dressed in an orange tunic and nothing else. I made my way through the room, slow and unassuming as I wandered toward the door. I was just another party guest who was finding their way through the room.

I slid into the door as I knocked into a distracted fae female, wine soaking the front of her dress. She shrieked and turned to accuse a thin boy with a dense cluster of moss like hair on his head. I was gone as the comotion rose, hoping to buy another minute or two from Rhys coming into the room.

I had only my arm through the door before a hand yanked me in and the door snickered shut behind me. I was in Lucien’s embrace, a warm hug that I found myself returning with damp eyes.

I went to open my mouth first but Lucien was already making a mess of his words as he pushed back to look over me. “Do you know how much trouble you have caused?” It was light with laughter as he joked but I saw the keen in his eyes and tightened my grip on his arm where my hand had fallen.

“I told you not to intervene Lucien,” I hiss it out because if I raised my voice much more it would crack, the thought that I would have been happy if it had been him and I under descending metal spikes making a darker form of guilt than I had considered possible blooming, “I already endangered Alis and her boys, I can’t be the reason you lose your head.”

 He shook his head as I spoke.“I am trying to save you, Feyre, I found some tunnels that lead up to winter but you have to leave now.” He pulled at my arms while he spoke but I dug my heels in, face furrowed.

“I’m not leaving, Lucien, not when I am this close to freeing him, freeing all of you from her.” I saw his eyes go a little wild before he took a breath and stood back, running his hands through his hair. I looked him over, his finery in colors of mixed copper and evergreen matching him well as his hair was free to flow down and around his shoulders, small braids clasped with matching copper cuffs glinting with the barest amount of light leaking from under the door. His running of his hand through his hair had sullied it though, ink smearing at his roots and I saw more ink across his fine vest and white under shirt from our embrace. Fuck, he couldn’t leave now and I save his hide, now our only hope was that Rhysand came and transfigured the ink from Lucien to himself or what ever the hell else Rhysand would do to play little mind games with the courtier. 

“Damn it, Lucien.” I swore at him as I started pacing, biting at the nails Nuala had painted the same shade of blue as the dress.He looked offended as I started pacing.

“I am trying to save you , Feyre. I get that you don’t have any self preservation skills but that is not true for all of us and if you don’t get out of here before your trial tomorrow there will be far too much blood on this floor for anyone to ever return.” He stepped up to me and I whirled, throwing out my hands in annoyance. I was in Lucien’s face, pushing a finger against his chest.

“Do you think they would come back anyway? Lucien, if I do not go through with my plan tomorrow there will be far much more bloodshed as she goes and kills my family and every other mortal south of the wall.” I was going to continue but then the shadows around us condensed and waivered before Rhysand stepped from the darkness. He came from behind Lucien so the other male didn’t notice as he started his own rebut.

“What plan? Do you know what she plans for you to do tomorrow? Because I don’t and I will not be made to see you die.” We had kept the conversation to whisper yells but his voice had returned to a normal volume which sounded far too loud for the small space as Rhysand chuckled. Lucien’s body went rigid as he took in the annoyed look across my face as I settled my weight on one leg and looked at the man incredulously. 

“My, my, what a lover’s quarrel. If this is what Tamlin had to watch in Spring all these months I do not blame him for being so complacent with the Queen.” He was goating Lucien, I could see it easily but Lucien still let out a low growl as he stepped half in front of me. Rhys raised an eyebrow at the movement but I gave him an exasperated expression as I threw up my arms.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Rhys?” Lucien growled at him and I glared at the back of his head. If he would shut up and let me talk with the man who would either be the reason we both came out this closet with all our limbs or not I would be forever grateful to the Mother that controlled this world.

Rhys didn’t answer Lucien as he tutted his tongue at the blue-black ink marring the fine clothes, “Have some fun with my pet, now did you?” his eyes were flicking over the ink over the front of Lucien, wrapped around his side from the hug, and the trails through his hair that could very well look like I had been the one to run my hands through it. “How much fun Amarantha would have with this, the son of Autumn with her captive. What punishment would she give you? Lashings? The spit? Or maybe she will have your brothers take the head of this little lover as well.”

My breath stilled, Lucien’s breath stilled and I felt something feral spread through Lucien. Rhys had crossed a line, tearing open a scar that would never heal and rubbing salt and faebane into the wound.

“Rhysand.” I startled myself at the growl in my voice, something deep and angry stepping up to the plate to defend Lucien. The male who had spent days on horseback with me where neither of us shot a single squirrel, the male who cracked the same cheap jokes I did and laughed at them. Lucien was family, the same ease I moved around him as I did Nesta and Elain, the middle sister I knew was to be his mate.

 I stepped in front of Lucien now, more to protect Rhysand from the male I could tell was hanging by less than a thread. The air didn’t even dare move around Lucien as I touched his shoulder. “Go, I can handle this.” I whispered to him.

“Enjoy the party, little fox.” Rhys taunted more before he flicked his fingers, the paint on Lucien disappearing before Lucien turned and walked out the small door. His movements were too robotic and his eye had taken a haze to it before he moved.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yelled at Rhys, not caring if the sound of the party drowned it out or not. If I had pushed down the betrayal of the boys being held captive then this brought it back to the surface tenfold. Lucien may have not listened to me but he was also only trying to get me to escape, the polar opposite of what Tamlin had done in the original story. “He did nothing wrong, if you could get your head out of your ass then maybe you could see that he just doesn’t want me to die unlike the rest of this damned court.” 

“I don’t like my things touched.” He uttered it as he stepped towards me, going to crowd me against the wall.

“I am not your thing Rhysand. You can drop the damn ‘wicked lord of the night’ act but that was a bastard move right there. We hugged, is that what you want to hear? We hugged because I missed having a friend and he thinks I am going to die tomorrow.” I was seething, the anger I had been tending was burning bright and I no longer had a grasp on it. All these times I had tried trusting Rhysand despite his insistence on his mask. Maybe it was all because it was under the mountain and Amarantha still watched from everywhere, but could he not give me a sign that he was the male I believed him to be. 

“You two are fools, do you think that no one else in that throne room saw you two slink off? Do you think no one would notice that you disappeared on my watch and by fox boy’s hand?” 

“Do you really think I knew what Lucien wanted? I wanted a good bye, that was it.” It held enough truth to it, and he felt it.

“Oh you two would be saying goodbye to both of your heads soon enough.” He was turning irate, the shadows whipping around him.

“Then let us die, maybe you should have let me die after that first trial because it seems that would have been so much easier for you. What does it matter anyway?” 

I knew I was baiting for something, I wanted him as angry as I am. This is what I had craved for years, someone to scream at and be screamed back at. “What does it matter?” He was dumb founded before the wings I had longed to see condensed at his back. They were ginormous, expansive things that illustrations in Tamlin’s books would never be able to replicate. “ What does it matter?” I wanted him to say why it mattered, something twisting in my heart for confirmation that he felt Feyre still connected to this body.

He didn’t prove me right, though. Not as he pushed me up against the wall with a firm hand grabbing my chin and bringing my lips to his. The kiss was rough, teeth clacking as he pushed me up the wall, making my arms go to his biceps to steady myself. He kissed into my mouth like a drowning man taking a breath of air, desperate and despairing at the same time. I was so taken aback that I didn't kiss back for a moment and by the time my brain was working again the small door was flung open to let bright light pour in around us.

Amarantha stood with Tamlin at her side as Rhysand separated from me with a nip to my bottom lip. My face was flushed with a mixture of still boiling anger and embarrassment of being caught in what looked like a messy make out. I saw Tamlin’s eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise, he had been expecting me and Lucien here together, he had seen us slip in here and he had told Amarantha . I swallowed down bile at the betrayal of his friend as Amarantha laughed.

Rhysand separated from me languidly, hands trailing down my side as he gave them a lazy and indulgent smile. His wings were gone now, and the space they had occupied felt so empty now to me. A crowd of peering high fae and lesser fae alike were rising behind Amarantha like a sea of castigation as they joined her laughter. Her eyes burned with some depraved fire as Rhysand bowed to her

“I knew it was a matter of time,” she said, putting a hand on Tamlin’s arm. She lifted the other hand to present her ring- Jurian- to the entertainment. “You humans are all the same, aren’t you?”

I cringed away from the turning eye of the mad man, pulling myself off the wall as I readjusted the fabric of my dress over my chest. It didn’t help much though, not where everyone could see the smudges of paint on both me and Rhysand. When had he transferred the paint to himself? I hadn’t noticed it in the low light, but the warm fire light that normally set his hair into an oil-slick sheen had matte stripes of dark blue.

“Dull human hearts, so easily swayed by a pretty face.” She ran a finger over the glass encasing Jurian’s eye. I didn’t say anything as I felt the poison of words that would have me pinned on the wall, the spot that had been vacated by Emiline. She turned back to the crowd and left the door frame, presumably to return to her throne as her cortege parted and flowed behind her to return to their revels. 

Rhysand pushed me along with a warm hand as I fussed with the fabric of the dress. I heard the laughing whispers of the court as we moved through it but I still refused to lower my head. I watched Rhysand’s blue stained hands as he paused along the wall, no more than a few paces from the exit.The crowd jeered at the paint that was usually so crisp, now defaced as I was.

“I’ve tired of your company tonight,” His fingers pushed more firmly at my elbow and I felt the nerves there twinge as they motioned me towards the doors, “Return to your cell.” I scurried off to the guards that had guided me to my rooms every night when me and Rhysand parted ways, though this was the first and last time they were going to return me sober. 

Chapter Text

I couldn’t fall into my usual fitful sleep, the usual wine that subsides my anxiety gone. Hours had to have passed with me finding warmth in the wools and furs of blankets as I stared blankly into the dark. I missed the easy access to music that used to lull me to sleep, maybe I shouldn’t have cursed out Rhysand for his sending of music to me.

I heard the clicks of his shoes against the stone before he slipped into my cell, Rhysand slumping against the wall as he ran his hand through already tousled hair. His tunic was unbuttoned and ivory skin shone through as his chest heaved, sliding down to rest against the floor. I sat up, pulling blankets with me to open a free space on the bed. Still he stayed on the floor even with an offered seat next to me.

We sat in silence for painful minutes, well painful for me as he seemed to need the wide expanse of time to let the iron set of his shoulders fall. His head was tilted back against the stone now as he let out easy breaths, and I thought for a moment he had fallen asleep and was prepared to drape one of the blankets over him before he shifted, dropping his head into his hands to rub at the temples. 

“Damned bitch is running me ragged,” he groaned out as his knees fell apart from each other, “You hate me, but imagine how you’d feel if I made you serve in my bedroom. I’m High Lord of the Night Court—not her damned harlot.” Disgust boiled the simmering rage, I was so ready to tear her throat out if only I could get some sleep. 

“You won’t have to deal with her much longer.” I say quietly , “Tomorrow it will all be set right.” My head pangs with pain as I blink, my eyes having gone dry as I stared at him. My vision blurred for a moment and when I blinked back rising tears I saw him looking at me from below long lashes.

“This is all so fucked,” Rhysand says and I let out a huffing laugh, I think it was the first time I had heard him use such a human curse. “I’m here, in a cell, talking to our one hope for freedom or condemnation and she is the only one I can talk to without risking everything .” His voice goes wiry on the last word and I know he is thinking of Velaris, of his family he had trapped there for the past 50 years.

The silence returns and this time it is me who breaks it, “What are you going to do after she’s gone?” Tiredness was starting to fuzz my brain and I leaned back against the wall, still keeping the blankets close to my body. Maybe I should request a last meal, some pasta would be divine after the months of soups and bread and cold meat. Is this what criminals back home felt like on their execution day? The peaceful fear and roiling anger?

“How about we worry about that after? Hm?” He teased and I ran a tongue over my teeth, where I could still feel the reverberation of our mouths colliding. We , he had said, like we would both see the sun again. I smiled at the thought, exhaustion painting a picture of snow kissed autumn winds as he soared to the house of wind. I hoped he enjoyed flying again after this, that taking to the air would be the first freedom he would give himself.

“Do you think he would fight for me?” I say and I know he knows I mean Tamlin, the blond highlord that has done little more than look at me during trials and completely ignoring me otherwise. I would have considered him a friend, hours of both of our fingers bleeding on strings of instruments bonding us in some way. Really I had intended for him to pull me into that closet at the party tonight, not Lucien. I wanted to use the time to warn Tamlin of Hybern, of Ianthe, if only to spare the citizens of Spring and the borders of Summer that would be ravished by the armies. Now those papers sitting in my dresser drawer were rotting away, the weeks of preparation going with them if I didn’t tell Rhysand about them.

Rhysand didn’t answer my question, rather answered around it, “You should have felt how angry he was when we revealed our little bargain, it was near palpable that first night. Thought he was going to try and gut me for a long while after it as well.” 

I laugh fully at the ashen face he sends to me, like he had been deeply worried that Tam’s claws would be turned on him. “Luckily for you, all your powers should be fully yours come tomorrow. If I make it” I add the last part as an after thought, not even fully aware I had let it slip by my lips. Really no matter what happened between now and then my plan wouldn’t falter. Best case scenario had Feyre coming back to her body, worst case left no Feyre behind and instead left a human girl’s corpse with the fae to deal with. Either way I would be long gone from this world come the next night, the after didn’t really matter all that much.

“You need to make it, Feyre.” He says harshly. “You need to.” 

I shake my head, “We both know that even if I complete her tasks she’ll kill me. I knew I wasn’t going to get to leave the moment I set foot here, you knew it too, everyone did.” This time I am the one pressing my head against the stones, communication should not take this much effort.

But he is silent again and I take the silence to play my last card up my sleeve with him. “At home, in the cottage I was in with my sisters before all this mess, I wrote some things and put them in my drawer. After all of this go there, for me at least, and read the things I wrote.” I stare up at the wet stones, the fire light glinting off them like flickering comets. 

“Why?” The word hangs in the air, heavy like a shoe waiting to drop. 

“Maybe I want someone to remember me, but its my own way to help with what comes after.” That was my regret from my past life, there had been effectively nothing left of me there when I had- well that doesn’t really matter now does it?

“How will I know which drawer is yours?” 

“You’ll know.” Sleep was finally beaconing for me, tantalizing hands weighing down my eyelids. I heard Rhysand rise from his spot, felt in the shift in the air I was slowly learning accompanied his shadow travel. “Sleep well, Rhys.” I say with a yawn and am sliding down the cot to nestle into the blankets, dense and warm as I fall asleep. I am wrapped in the fog of sleep as I hear him murmur something in return. Then he is gone and I hadn’t noticed the warmth he had added as the room feels cold once again.

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My trousers and tunic were returned to me in the early hours of morning, or what felt like morning, the ones that were taken by Nuala and Cerridwen that first night of parties. The other ones were filthy taters in the corner of my cell, rotting and stinking so much I had not touched them after the trial. It felt nice to be back in my clothes, to have boots cushion my feet against the stone as my guards brought me up to the throne room.

The doors open under the hands of two white eyed faeries, hair of deep inky blue spilling over their shoulders as the wood yielded under them. I had never noticed them before, the two of them silent sentinels that must have witnessed my drunk stumbling each night. But they were silent, just as the rest of the courtroom as the sound of grinding stones echoed through the chamber.

Everyone watched me, but not in the same wicked way of stands full of men betting on a race horse as they had in the previous trials. Not anymore, not when they were close to freedom and I was the one that could bestow it upon them. No flashes of gold passed hands in bets, in exchange many hands were brought to lips or chests as they prayed to nameless deities. The only gold that shown through the crowd was that of the masked spring court, their eyes especially piercing as they traced each breath I took. Many of the spring court fae brought fingers to their lips and extended them out to me, a fleeting sign of farewell to the dead.

The crowd parted before me and I felt holy as I was brought before the dais. It felt biblical, the twisted inversion of Moses and Aaron approaching the Pharaoh lest plagues rain down upon the land. I was here to rid the land of a plague though, of the blight. I stared up at Amarantha at the foot of her throne, and her hair was starting to look like blood the more I looked at it and I was more than prepared to make her blood spray. Her crown was still knotted in her hair, looking more like a bramble than anything regal. The fake Tamlin sat at her side now, and even if I did not know it was a fake the posture was too casual, the shoulders too relaxed and angled as the imitator grew accustomed to the empty baldric across their chest.

“Two trials lie behind you, though not without their mark.” Her eyes narrowed on the ink visible as I had rolled my sleeves to my elbows. Some red skin faeries, the soldiers from her putrid court, whistled out in joy. The hoops and hollers were obscene in the silence. “And only one more awaits. I wonder if it will be worse to fail now—when you are so close.”She pouts as she lets her court laugh, it felt like laughter at a funeral. My funeral I reminded myself as I dug my nails into my palms. No one laughed along with her men, even the autumn siblings that often taunted me from across the ballrooms were silent wherever they were in the crowd.

I plaster a grin on my face, dripping with that black anger I had been refining. “Good thing we won’t have to figure out, isn’t it?” Her pout turns sour and pride spreads my grin wider, poisonous. 

“You never figured out my riddle, did you?” I didn’t respond, and she smiled. “Pity. The answer is so lovely.” I really really wanted to kill her, now, but I staved off the wild thoughts and energy that itched my skin and tongue. Only a few more moments and her blood would be on my hands, ruby red to varnish my skin.

Her red dress was already such a pretty shade of red, darkening it wouldn’t ruin her image, instead would enhance the creamy expanse of her throat and arms. She clapped her hands twice and guards came from a side door, one for each prisoner with black canvas placed over their heads. When they settled in a row behind me the three of the guards broke off, returning back through the door they had come from. They all wore simple clothes, battered trousers and tunics for the two male figures and a molted blue dress on the female between them.Amarantha clapped her hands again and three servants approached, each holding a black velvet pillow presenting polished ash daggers embellished with iron. 

“Your final task, Feyre,” Amarantha drawled, gesturing to the kneeling faeries. “Stab each of these unfortunate souls in the heart.They’re innocent—not that it should matter to you, since it wasn’t a concern the day you killed Tamlin’s poor sentinel.” Andras , he deserved to have a name, rather than just a sacrificial sentinel that had fallen to a huntress’ hand. He was the first blood I had regretted having on my hands, and it was her fault.  She continues “And it wasn’t a concern for dear Jurian when he butchered my sister. But if it’s a problem … well, you can always refuse. Of course, I’ll take your life in exchange, but a bargain’s a bargain, is it not? If you ask me, though, given your history with murdering our kind, I do believe I’m offering you a gift.” 

I stay silent for a moment, not moving from where I glare down my nose at her despite the elevation distance between the two of us. “Well?” she was agitated as she snapped it out before she softened her face and presented her hand forward, letting Jurian’s wild eye settle on me. I resisted the shiver that demanded to run down my back, though the prickling of my skin was irrepressible. “I wouldn’t want you to miss this, old friend.”

This time I turn slowly, to face the intended victims of this trial. I stepped forward, in front of the first male figure. The servant pulled off the sack, revealing young skin and sharp features. I looked at the face of the young fae male in front of me and smiled down at him, sweet as a mother as I brushed a strand of fallen hair behind one of those arched ears. He was whimpering- begging to be spared as I reached for that wooden dagger. It was heavy, like it was made from true steel, and I twisted it in my hand. That handsome face of the fae tilted to look at me, at his death, and I stared back into those sky-blue eyes. The tears that streamed down his face did not suit such bright eyes and I whispered to him, low enough that Amarantha couldn’t hear, but the audience on the closest fringe could.

“Wish me luck” It was the only warning I gave before my grip on that dagger shifted, tightening as I twisted my body. I only took one step as I put my whole weight and years of training in those woods into the throw. The blade spun on its axis as it soared, and even her immortal reflexes could not dodge as it sunk into her, just above the hip. I didn’t wait for her shriek as I darted to grab the next blade, still next to the covered female fae. The servant who had been holding the pillow that displayed that dagger must have been too stunned to move as I grabbed the new dagger. My hand had grabbed the blade and it sliced into the flesh, red spilling forth before I readjusted to tightly grip it.

Magic slammed into me like a crashing wave, nearly driving me to my knees as I turned back to face the throne. Her red hair was whipping around her where she was standing and I did not have time to run as she came at me, manicured nails extended out as her own set claws. I felt one of the nails sink into my shoulder as she hurdled us over, and I was laughing, some insane part of me letting out cackles as we slammed into tile. And then she was on top of me, smashing her fists down onto my body as she shrieked curses and slurs. The magic that was roiling off of her kept me pinned to the ground, and I couldn’t move the arm that held that last dagger as the sickening crunch of my ribs breaking through my body filled my ears. 

Her blood was running into the bright red fabric, darkening it just as I had imagined it with every movement she made. Her blood splattered onto my shirt as she thrashed in her tantrum, speckling me like a robin's egg. Her hits cracked against bone each time and I would have been thankful for me not having to be around to deal with the healing process as I spat upon her.

My laughter enraged her enough to ignore the movement in the crowd that I watched from the corner of my eyes as I screamed curses back at her to keep her distracted even more so. She returned the slurs tenfold with each impact and drag of her nails. I watched the shadowed figure kneel next to Tamlin, reaching out for that last remaining dagger that had clattered to the floor as the last servants had ran. The blade was poised in his hand as I saw the flash of those wicked talons and wings as he launched himself at the red headed witch.

His dagger that had been poised for her throat was slammed back with him as she waved a hand at him, a white wall of power pulsing as it threw him. But the distraction was just enough for the magic pinning me to lessen for me to raise my arm, dagger still grasped in an iron grip.

I had raised it high enough to stab into her ribs, slitting the lacy bodice of her dress as it slid into the hilt, as a refreshed wave of that pulsing magic slammed me into the ground. I felt my head crack into the stone as pressure pulsed in my ears, and I bit down painfully on my tongue as she screamed in pain. She ripped the dagger out with a hand, looking aghast as a new river of blood flowed forth from her, going to meet the path of my first wound to her lap . Her blood was pouring down onto me as I smiled, toothy and stained with my blood. Another punch from those delicate hands and she grabbed my arms pinning them to the cold ground.

“I am going to rip you apart” The promise was dripping with her own blood as I couldn’t resist the accursed smile of a mad man that spread across my face as I spat back at her again, her and my blood mixing as it soaked into that ruby dress. It had turned to garnet and I felt pride swell at my art, my destruction of her after all these months-years I had devoted to bringing her to her knees.

“Filth- “another hit to my face “- putrid human filth.” Blood was filling my mouth as I wheezed “I knew the answer to your inane riddle this whole time, bitch.” It gave her enough pause that I laughed out “Love, the damned answer is love”. 

The rage of her scream shook the stone under me as I grinned up at her, blood splattering onto the red clay tiles as I coughed. I sent a last message down that reverberating chain linking my tattoo to him, an apology and an admonishment of all grief I have caused him with my foolishness. There was still resentment at him for the past month but more than that I do not think I could have held him to a fault for all of it, maybe not even any of it. It was much less words and more a pulse of that bleeding tightness of thorny vines wrapped around my heart. Then right after that pulse I send back warmth, the feeling of bones resting in a hot bath or basking in the sun in the summer as I feel nails dig into tender flesh at the base of my skull. I hoped he enjoyed a long life with his family.

“Rot in hell” I cursed her with a cackling laugh as she has wrapped her hands around my ears. In my last bit of defiance while staring down my nose at her I spit my rotting human blood into her face and she is twisting my neck until something in my spine- my neck- my head- broke irreparably.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

The snap reverberated through me, the wet stickiness of blood disappearing from my skin as I was dunked into a deep ink. I was swimming- floating- whatever in that abyss. It was warm as it whispered sweet-nothings into my skin, letting me sink farther and farther under, swirling down like a snowflake, delicate and precious in a fluttering wind. But before I could nestle down in that eternity of comfort I was dragged to view my body, twisted and mangled, on the floor. 

The fae queen was still straddling me, ash dagger still embedded above those slim hips deepening that red gown, seeping out of her like black ichor. Her hands raised from the side of my head before Amarantha stood from my body, looking up at the crowd with pleading eyes as she opened up her mouth. 

“Please”, it was the only word she got before the room exploded with power. Living ink grabbed her body and slammed her against the wall as a flash to the side. A guttural roar sounded in the room before the pounding of claws and Tamlin was there at her throat as he shifted back to that male form I had grown used to. His mask had dropped in his run ,forsaken and forgotten after he had ripped from his bonds, as his claw tipped hand sunk into her stomach and ripped-

My vision changed in a blink, and I was above mountains, city lights just behind me. Their peaks disappeared in a heavy cloud cover as the sky illuminated with white lightning, a moment of quiet before the shaking clap of thunder shook my vision. Rain was pounding down, and I wanted to howl in joy as the cold air kissed at a face that wasn’t mine. I realized then , as the vision rolled to look into the rain streaked clouds and away from the stone below, I was in the air. It was cinematic as the vision tilted again and I was barreling down- down- down-

I had braced for the impact but it didn’t come, instead the dark shadows of the rough stone had become a balcony, smooth and polished as my eyes looked down at the city. I clutched onto that vision, hoping it was my link to home as I watched the glittering lights below. I longed to go back to the days where I was kept up by the noise of traffic rather than fear of nightmares of the creatures and actions I had been forced to endure. But the vision was ripped away from me like a children’s blanket and I was back under the mountain. 

Amaranth was pinned like a doll to the stone wall, cracks radiating from where a gold hilted sword was stabbed through her head. Her intestines hung from the cavity that stretched from her sternum to those delicate hips, torn out by Tamlin, who was now staggering back from the body. His front was drenched in blood before he turned. Rhysand’s eyes returned to my body then, and I felt nausea bubble up in my now non-existent stomach at the sight of the body twisted at horrible angles, blood pooling around me.

Lucien was there though, cradling my head. I was reminded of the way I held Andras in his final moments and I was ready for that smooth ink to sweep me back to my world or to no world at all, but whatever held me to Rhys’ vision would not loosen its tie. Then Tamlin was there, taking the limp body into those corded arms as I saw tears drip from his face. Lucien was not much better as he grabbed at a blood-smeared limp hand, bringing it to his forehead as he wept.

 His mask was still in place as a man who looked like an older brother of Lucien approached, he wasn’t part of the autumn brood that had watched me over the months. My borrowed eyes knew who he was and supplied me with the answer with no more than a second of delay. The High Lord of Autumn Court did not look at Lucien as he approached the body, held right to Tamlin’s chest. He opened his hand, tilting it to where that drop of glittering liquid fire dropped onto my chest. Then two more males, tall and handsome approached. Tarquin and Kallis tipped their hands in succession, pearlescent and crystalline drops soaking into the skin above Feyre’s heart. I coaxed, in the darkness that I could still feel my corporeal body floating, for her soul to slide in, that her body was ready for her. 

I felt no other stirring in that darkness as I watched Thesan approach, his drop glowing with the golden haze that had brought me home to the cottage thousands of times over the years. Helion approached and I felt the resemblance in his and Lucien’s power, enough that the rumors of him being Lucien’s father started to make sense, as that pure gold drop fell. 

I wanted to scream into the abyss for Feyre to come for her claim, wanting her to take over her place of High Lady that I had laid bare to her. I wanted to thrash about as the body I was in, Rhysand, walked forward to where my body was cooling in the arms of the High Lord of Spring.

“For what she gave,” Rhysand said, extending a clenched hand, “we’ll bestow what our predecessors have granted to few before.” He paused, just for a breath. “This makes us even,” I felt that cocky glow of humor spike through him as he opened that palm, the brightest drop of starlight dropping down to where the rest of those seeds had soaked into the body of a girl who was abhorrently silent in the void. 

Tamlin pulled an arm from under me as he gathered a drop of the glowing power that promised blossoming flowers and prosperity in a calloused palm. I saw the drop roll between his ring and middle finger, watched as it fell to skin, and as he pushed that palm into my chest and whispered into matted hair. I doubted that even if I had been in that body I would have heard it, but Rhysand’s fae ears picked up on it as though it was a chime of a bell. 

“Come back, please” 

I was thrown back into that warm ink as the words ended and I started searching for a glimmer of the soul that rightfully belonged in the body as a braided rope dropped in front of me. I grasped at it , wading the darkness as golden light shined from above. 

I was about to scream out for her , demanding that she take what she owned so that I could return to my own home, but a voice caressed the inside of my ears. It was an ancient voice, unending and primordial as it spoke right into my mind, past the walls I had built.

little one, you are more than a string in the tapestry of the world. Weave a new story for me.  

The voice was distinctly feminine as it disappeared, I whipped around in that space. My hand ran along that rope, and I felt the connection that had shown me the city, braided in with my death and those illuminated clouds. I pulled myself up, conscious to only grab at the strands that spoke of that stormy night sky and sparkling city as I went. If I denied the bargain that led me to Rhysand- to Prythian- maybe I could go home even against the Mother’s wishes. So I climbed, feet kicking at the emptiness below as I went towards the light that promised me my freedom.

I felt bubbles grab my under arms, pushing me up toward that brightness and as a bubble came to rest under my chin I -

I gulped in air as I turned out of someone's lap, planting my hands on the floor. It was cool underneath my fingers as I opened my eyes. My hair draped around me, a golden- brown curtain shielding me from the stares of the onlookers. Golden brown hair-I bought a hand with too-long fingers to grasp at the strands. A beat of silence then- 

I screamed into the tile as my hope was ripped away from me.

Chapter Text

I had been swarmed by the court faeries the moment I had stopped screaming and writhing on the floor. Tamlin had held me and brought me to my feet to embrace me, whispering reassurances that this was the only way to save me. I sobbed when he said that, readjusting to long ethereal limbs that had no strain of my mortal muscles. My empty eyes and despondent nods to the fae that gave their gratitude with bent heads and praying hands had eventually keyed him in to guide me to a room far in the catacombs of the mountain.   

I was put into a bedroom while the High lords convened for their meetings, taking the rare moment where they were all gathered in neutral territory to discuss old and new treaties. I had been alone for hours, watching notes from the other fae slip under my door as they each knocked and whispered a mix of prayers and thanks. I couldn’t move from my place on the bed, laying hollow on the plush comforter and staring at the wall. My throat was raw and my face was wet from the occasional rasping sob that would work its way up through me.

My new pointed ears picked up each wisp of cloth down the hall as faeries moved between rooms, many going to find a place to stay for the night. Each brush of air chaffed along my skin, some remaining wounds having stitched themselves up with new fae healing. I was lost on a sea of heady thoughts, ankles heavy with lead weights that dragged me deeper and deeper down till the candle light of the chambers was gone from my sight and I was staring at my cell walls. I felt so cold, frozen so deep to the bone my skin did not even dare turn to goose-bumps. The taste of lingering iron was on my tongue, a comingling of mine and a dead woman’s blood.

The door creaked open and I flinched away from the sound, pushing the side of my head deeper into the cushion of a pillow. I smelled chestnuts and lemon verbena as the air shifted around me and a warm weight settled next to my feet, dipping the bed slightly. I did not have to shift my head to know Lucien was there, rubbing his palms into his eyes. Still I sat up, the movement sending new senses racing up my skin like the hot sluggish movements one would make when they were sick as a child. 

Lucien’s mask was gone, a tan line of the offending piece of metal left in its place. Everyone was pale from months under here so it wasn’t as noticeable as it would have been in the spring sun, but there is a different wane to skin that has not seen light in 50 years and that of a few months.

“How are you doing?” He says it with exhaustion soaking every word, no doubt having to deal with the court proceedings having taken its toll on him and any other emissary. 

“Tired.” Is all I say, all I can say without dragging him down into the waters of my mind with me. I was exhausted, so utterly tired I had drifted to the madness that kept one awake. He hummed an agreement to me in answer and we stayed like that for a long while. Though my mind wouldn’t quiet, the best I could do was to let my body rest, unmoving as we both sat.

“Do you want to talk about…it?” The words are staggered, uncertain, like a hand being offered to a feral dog to sniff. I shake my head, there was so much I could scream if I wanted but I didn’t want to. I wanted to remain quiet and still and fade into the dark. This was the exact opposite of the confounding panic when I had died before. Because I had died before all this, had come to that rationalization in the hours I laid here. There were moments across the years I had considered there was no return, but having died again there was no denying the same falling sensation that had accompanied death, the same inky dark that beconed to ones aching and tired soul. Twice I had been promised that easy drift and twice I had been denied, twice I found I could not blame anyone but myself for hoping.

He sighed, “Okay, sleep. Tamlin is still in some meetings but said he would be down here before we leave, he needs to talk to you about things. We should be here for only a little bit longer, but with all the high lords it takes so long to maneuver around each other's schemes-” He broke his ranting with another sigh before he patted my leg, what should have been a soothing gesture feeling like rubbing salt in a raw scrape. “Just sleep well, Feyre, we owe you more than can ever be repaid.” 

I flinched away from the name, my whole body twitching in repulsion. The movement blended with his rising from the bed though as I watched him go to the door. He paused with his hand on the brass door knob, like he wanted to say something more but thought better of it as he opened the door and left. The clicking of the latch falling back into its latch sounded thunderous and I cursed everything.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

I did find sleep eventually, short bursts that I threw myself from as the smell of iron and hot metal would fill my nose. During a waking moment between two nightmare clips, where I was soaking in a tub of water in the attached bathing chamber to subside the shaking sweats that had overtaken me, a tug at my center. I ignored it the first time, trying to keep down nausea as I slipped down to my nose in the tub. Still the tugging did not stop and I was forced to follow it.

I sloshed from the water, wiping down with a towel before I put on a simple robe, tying it tight as I stumbled through the halls. I felt like a newly born fawn stumbling through a forest of cold stone walls. I followed the tug, incessant like a dog pulling on its lead. My vision was so bleary with half sleep I did not register the sun for half a moment as I made my way up a narrow, winding staircase. 

I saw him in the negative space of soft, late morning light as I found my way to the balcony he stood at. He leaned against the stone banister as I squinted at him, resisting the watering of my eyes to stare at him with new eyes. I was no doubt scowling, marring a newly given immortal beauty that was not mine to cherish, and he huffed at me as he turned. He let out a silky low laugh like he had not been the one tof summon me from my rest.

“I forgot that it’s been a while for you.” He said as he beckoned me over with a hand before he turned back to face the open air. My eyes had adjusted just barely and I was able to look at the scene in front of us.

It was beautiful, wicked and venomously beautiful from our spot on a barren rock face. Tall peaks of snow capped mountains glistened in the distance, and at this distance a soft haze blurred the edges of them, mixing shimmering white with the deep evergreen woods that rested at the roots of the distant mountains. And with him at the center of my vision, him, resting against twisting stone as heavy wings sat at his back. They were spread ever so slightly, rusting in an autumn kissed wind that rushed up the side of the rock. The talons at the apex of each caught the light. The membranes were cast in carmine and gold, so full of life and looking so warm where they rustled that I wanted to trace a finger along the lines of bone and sinew.

I kept my hands to myself, though, as I came to stand next to him, settling my own weight on the same stone banister. The wind rustled the hair at my shoulders, still damp from the bath, and I took a deep breath. The crispness of air promised delicate snow pacts and I was reminded how quickly this had all moved, how quickly I had been prepared for it to be over.

“Why aren’t you gone yet?” The words come out before I mean them too, before I can refine them into something not so abrasive. He looks at me sharply from the corner of his eye as I stare up at him.

“You are always so grateful anytime I try and do something kind. Can we not just have a goodbye like civilized folk?” He says as a gust of wind lifts his hair up from his face. His shadows go skittering along with them, much more prevalent than before and I consider that maybe he was taking the time to readjust to his powers, to having to burn off the excess to keep himself from madness.

“With our little custody agreement, this is hardly a good bye Rhys.” It's so easy to fall into banter, lean on it like a crutch and let it keep me from collapsing into another fit of sobs. The scent of sea salt and citrus soothes my nerves a tad and I resist leaning into Rhysand. “And I am sure that you would much rather be anywhere else than here.” 

That same breathy laugh, “I fear that is true, no matter what waits for me when I get back to my lands.” Some part of me pangs in achy pain, like a chime being rung with my bones. I don’t know what awaits me, especially not if I follow Tamlin back to Spring or find some other court to take me in, I have nowhere to fit now. Every court has an empty piece in their puzzle that needs to be filled after Amarantha, but I cannot see myself fitting into any of them.

For a moment I consider asking Rhys to take me back with him, but I can’t burden him with that when he should be getting back to his family, back to his normal. I am sure they would accommodate, but that is not what I want, I do not want to be a burden to be accommodated for. I wish I had trickled off into that darkness, where it was easy and my misshapen place in all of this was simple and inconsequential like a snowflake melting as it meets the ground.

“Thank you.” I say and I’ve thrown higher order thinking over the banister we lean upon, mind no longer willing to put in the effort to stop words. “For all of it, for making it bearable.” The air on the balcony had grown thick and I wish to flee from it, perhaps throw myself with my thinking over the banister to escape it. Anxiety finds the empty echo chamber in me and rattles around in there.

“It was the least I could do.” He says, “I know how I will be painted in the legends, the cruel high lord parading around a drugged mortal in the belly of a mountain. I just wanted to do something redeemable, something that my children can look upon and know that I was there and fought against her in the end, even if it was useless.” 

“It wasn’t useless,” the words don't sound as convincing as I wish they would, “You distracted her enough for me to stab her again, and gave me the time to answer her riddle.”

He doesn’t let us brew on it though, moving to the next topic to dodge the weight pressing down on both our shoulders. “How does it feel? Being High Fae?”

I grimace, running my thumb along the thin skin of my ring finger, “Weird.” It’s the closest word I can give him without sounding like a loon, “You ever woken up in the morning and touch the cold floor? It's like that but my whole body, all the time, forever.” He laughs and I don’t find my eternal discomfort all that funny. I sigh before I pull back from the balcony, running my hand down his arm in a goodbye before starting my way back down to my rooms. “Go home, Rhys, I’m sure you have people waiting for you.” 

I had just taken the first step down from the balcony when I felt that harsh tug on the bargain again. I turned back to the balcony, exhausted and irritated that he would not let me slip away quietly. But there was a beat of wind before I could turn fully and by the time I was facing the sky again he was gone. Skirting shadows scurry past my ankles, finding sanctuary in the cold stone as I make my way back down to my room.

When I get there I see the door ajar and I am just able to see the toe of a boot at the edge of my bed. I push the door open, careful of the creek of its hinges as I slide into my room, looking at my visitor. Tamlin is asleep on my bed, legs hanging off the end of it while his arms are sprawled out around him. His hair has a new cast of gold to it, silken like corn husk as it casts a halo around him. His face is relaxed and he looks younger even as immortality would keep him from aging at all, pale skin where the mask had rested before.

I let him rest as I went back into the bathroom to my bath that had grown even colder in the time I had been gone. I unplug it and watch the water swirl down the drain, my eyes hazing as I resist the tears blooming there. I wipe them away with the sleeve of my robe as I find some simple clothes. In a dresser drawer there is a rumpled collection of tweed and cotton fabrics and when I pulled them out a plume of dust bunnies fell with them.

When I do get dressed they hang loosely from me and with the new length to my limbs the pants rest above my ankles. When I pad back into my room Tamlin is still conked out on the bed, one arm having shifted to lay over his eyes. I sit lightly on the bed next to him and nudge his leg and he startles away, snorting away sleep as he straightens.

He groans as he raises himself, wiping a drying line of drool from the side of his face. I look at him blankly as I shift my weight against one of the posts of the bed.

“Oh Feyre,” Tamlin is clearing up from sleep. “I was going to talk to you about something, but it can wait till we are home and you are rested.” His eyes dragged over my form, crumpled in on itself as I slouched. I gave him a small nod, my eyelids becoming heavy as I blinked at him.

“I am so thankful for you Feyre, everyone is. Whatever I can do to repay what you gave, I will d0, just tell me.” He says it as he rises, leaving me in the bed. “We are leaving at noon, I have a few last things to do with the other High Lords but use this time to rest. I will have some food sent in for you, I know you must be famished.” He walks towards the door after I hum an affirmative. I am so damn tired that I am not sure I could have had a conversation at all. 

I wanted to sleep and forget for a little while, so I lay down and closed my eyes. The shadows sweep in quickly and I fall into the first restful hours of sleep I’ve had in months.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

I stood abreast with Tamlin at the mouth of the cave that Alis had left me at. The rest of the courts had left early in the morning, collapsing the tunnels to their courts as they trickles out. That had left the Spring court to be the last ones to leave, letting me have precious hours of sleep that had let my bones settle into my skin. Still the only feeling I had in my chest was like a ringing glass, empty and reverberating. 

The moment this last tunnel was collapsed the holy mountain would be closed off for eternity, or untill the future generations took time to dig through the rotted rubble of their histories. I would never return to the depth of its belly again, and it felt like a loss. The mountain had bore its witness to each of my moments, it was the last of my mortality I was afraid to lose again. But it was not my decision, and far to many people agreed to the forgetting of the winding halls hewn from artistry that had been painted with blood for me to contest with.

Amarantha’s body had been burned in the time I was in my room, Jurian’s eye and finger bone having gone missing with the Attor. The missing pieces of the man seem to bother Tamlin more than I, but I can’t fault him for that. 

So now I stood with Tamlin as the very last of the court trickled from its mouth. Tamlin waved his hand and the rock fell behind us, dust kicking up from the cold gray stone. I blinked against the dust that plumed before Tamlin took my elbow in his and guided us through the dark.

Buttery yellow sunlight spilled from the edge of the small tunnel I had used as we approached it. I tightened my arm against his as we stepped into the open air and I saw Lucien resting on log to the side but I was enraptured by the cerulean sky that yawned above me. I feel small again and I want to crush down and fall into the world like a grain of sand in a vast desert.

Spring air brushed at my face and I took in a deep breath heavy with the scent of wild flowers and soft rain. I hadn’t expected to ever see this sky again and though I should feel joy it hits me with another twinge of longing for where I thought I should be. Things are wrong but I can’t very well say that, not as I start walking to the 3 saddled horses waiting for us. Tamlin separates from me and gets onto his horse while Lucien comes forward to me, helping me navigate lifting myself up with new limbs and strength. 

We start over the hills and I am left breathless as the endless sea of green I had never truly appreciated for its richness yields to the long legs of our steeds. Lucien falls back next to me and smiles at me with unbridled joy as his skin shines with the sun. Life has returned to burn in his golden eyes as sun washes over him and if I was more respectable I might tell him of his paternity. But I am shameful and feel no guilt as we ride on, him pulling in closer to where our knees nearly brush. 

The peace lets the hollowness in me grow less prominent, no ringing of wrong through my heart as we approach Rose Manor. The tall walls of brackets have returned with lush green leaves and the gate sits upon its hinges once again. Shrieking cherubic laugher comes from the garden walls as we pull in closer and I see the sentinels back knocking shoulder to shoulder as they move past the stables where horses neigh and I see a wobbly legged foal shake its mane next to its mother in the pasture. 

Life is back here again, more than I had ever seen in the months I had lived in its walls. Now it felt foreign and I was simply an observer. I see two heads of blond hair bob over a low garden wall and I can’t resist my smiling as I see Alis follow behind them. I would be able to beg for her forgiveness then, and maybe I could fill this void with days of play for the sake of the boys and the innocence I tainted in them.

We come to a stop before the marble steps of the manor and Lucien guides me down from the horse. Tamlin awaits both of us as we approach and I take both of their hands in mine, squeezing them slightly. I see Lucien wince slightly and loosen the grip quickly.

Tamlin squeezes back though as he speaks, “Welcome home”. Tears shine in his eyes as we all take a step forward and accended into the Rose Mannor yet again.

Chapter Text

The moon was high in the sky as I stared from a window deep in the library, hiding in the stacks as darkness had come down around me. A book laid in my lap, forgotten, just as many tomes had laid in the previous weeks since coming from the mountain. My eyes no longer wished to read the words and my mind denied the ability to retain the words or their meanings, leaving me stranded in the library as I took my only slice of quiet into its stacks. So now I was left staring at the sky, reading the stars instead. They yielded no secret meaning between their dots and streaks of light. 

I looked away from the stars and down to the burning candle, nestled in some high peaks of frosting on top of a small cake. The kitchen had been confused but I needed to honor her somehow. My eyes were sensitive from tears and my throat sore from keeping the emotions from disturbing the others in the library, a place that had become much more active as each day passed. I used a fork, a dessert fork Ianthe had told me the evening before last when I had apparently committed some cardinal sin for not using the right cutlery. Ianthe was occupied now, still outside in the revelries I had escaped from to have my own candied vigil into the night. I wanted to tell Rhysand of his mate, the woman who I had watched in pages and I had seen grow into a high lady, let him have the small sliver of her that I had stolen from under him. But the bond was silent, as it had been in the first weeks since the mountain entrance crumpled behind us. 

Servants still thanked me, and I stayed far away from the village restoration expeditions where I knew more hands and more mouths to give thanks to me. I didn’t want it, I wanted things to be quiet again because everything was so loud and there was a constant banging going inside of my head that only seemed to reverberate with a tolerable melody when I stared into the waning moon with new Fae eyes, let the night wind cool and soothe my irritated nerves. I rarely got those moments though, late nights becoming more and more filled with events conducted by a blonde priestess and an equally willing blond high lord. I enjoyed it now, with melting wax pooling in the grooves of frosting as the flame flickers and sputters as I run my finger through the light.

“Feyre,” The name comes as an insistent whisper just a few alcoves down from me. “Feyre, come on now.” It was Alis as she came down the rows, searching for me as I shrink back into the cushions around me. But is it too late and she has seen me as she stomps over. I blink out the flame between two pinched fingers and hold the cake close to my chest, I feel like a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Come to bed, Ianthe has a full itinerary for you in the morning.” I fix Alis with a look and she shares the same exasperation with me as I once would have given her. “I know- trust me I know- but just appease the High Lord, he has far too much to deal with as it is.”

I lift silently from the alcove, and I see discomfort in Alis’ eyes as I rise to my feet, silent and lithe as a pure blooded fae. Everything had changed in that single night and now as I walked with Alis, my nightgown swishing around with my movements, I stood a head’s height taller than her. I let her open the doors in front of me, keeping my hands together on the cover of my book to keep from fidgeting.

Half a dozen doors had splintered or shattered under my heavy hand, not yet adjusted for inhuman strength. I found that a trend of the recent days, my body and mind not adjusting themselves to their new settings. I could no longer add the heavily scented salts and soaps to my bath without finding myself over the basin of a toilet. A whole set of silverware had bent under my fingers at this point, and I was tempted to eat with my bare fingers but when I had used my fingers to pluck up two pieces of fried potato both Tamlin and Ianthe had fixed me with such harsh glares that I did not dare violate the rule again. I was no longer allowed glass cups in my rooms or at dinner, roughhewn wooden ones given in replacement for me to nurse watered down juices.

Alis opens my chamber doors for me, guiding me in with a soft hand at my back to go to a low backed chair in front of an empty fire. She puts a cup of warm tea in my hands, and I grimace from the smell of it, taking a sip to appease her before setting it down on the nearest side table. I see the sorrow in Alis’ eyes at the movement, but she makes no comment on it, busying her hands to undo a halo braid she had put in that morning.

We spoke little, my occasional quip of how well everything seemed to be doing dying off after Alis had scolded me for empty conversation. It was the only conversation I could make though, there was nothing else I could say when someone asked how I was doing, rehearsed lines in the mirror with plaintive and honeyed smiles and crinkling the corner of my eyes.

Alis stood back from me once the golden hair fell in odd curls. I gave her a quick hug before she went wherever the servant chambers were. I was alone again, and I idly plaited the hair back from my face again, still not able to fully face it. I slid onto the bed, staying above the covers as I laid, the warmth of artificial spring having become more cloying since Tamlin had been returned to his power.

Tamlin had had quite a bit going on with the reconstruction of his court, Ianthe having come to aid with my own rehabilitation, like I was some wild animal . I had barely seen the High lord in the weeks we had returned outside of the nightly dinners, and even then there were many nights he was out in some town. The instruments that laid in a corner of the library and of my room were developing a coat of dust but my fingers flinched away each time I went to pick one up. Lucien was occupied with the paperwork of the court and was frequently left reading over curling parchment at the dinner table, ink staining his hands as he wrote fervently. 

It had left me alone to hold a conversation with Ianthe, which mostly had me agreeing to any plans she had already put in the schedule of the next day. Just as today, I had agreed to go dress fitting after she said something of the distaste of a High Lord’ associate to dress in worn pants and crinkled cotton shirts. I had taken back to running around the manor as I had before, but that had stopped last week when Tamlin had come back from some mission to see me. I had not even been able to start sweating, fae stamina was horrifying and I had just wanted to feel the burn of muscles again, when he had started ranting about presenting a united front to his people and that my ‘training’ was in direct opposition to that.

It was making me stir crazy, and with the inability to escape into foreign worlds, I was festering. The hollow in my heart was festering like my flesh had when I was mortal, I wanted to fill it with something, pack the wound to let it heal but nothing fit. Not floating into the kitchens to chop vegetables silently as the staff moved around me, only occasionally taking and giving new plants to chop or dishes to wash. Not sitting with the stable boys and picking clean the horses' hooves after long rides, or bottle feeding a brindle foal- the new mother having been too spooked by its movements to allow it to drink.

  I stared into the dark, willing shadows to bend in my mind's eye and translate to the deep dark around me. They did not yield to me, instead nipping at my fingers as I traced silken sheets. I had been trying to play with magic that had to lay inside of my newly formed veins, but none of it answered my call and it left me thrashing and angry and it felt good to be frustrated in a cold ocean of indifference.

I did need sleep, though, and I closed my eyes, needed the sleep for sanity not to put a steak knife through Ianthe’s hand if she tried to coax me into her vision of a human-made-fae. The warmth of letting consciousness trickle away welcomed me along with the smell of hot metal. I jolted, shifting to a spot of bed my body had not yet warmed to run from the nightmares that awaited me. Still they taunted me at the edge of my mind, the promise of their show daunting me and I rolled over to my other side.

When I did find sleep red spilled around me, bright and tinged with gold as I thrashed around in it. It was not blood, not even liquid, as strands of hair wrapped around my arms and legs and constricted, slicing the flesh until my blood had mixed with it. Smoke was in my nose and I was choking as Amarantha crawled on top of me and her eyes bore down into me as she grinned like a panther. Her hair flowed down around us and I realized it was her stands that were cutting into my skin. 

I was screaming as she drug the ash dagger down my skin, blood pilling up from my skin where the edge scraped along. My breastbone bloomed with red and it flowed down the sides of my ribs and I felt the hair under me stick to my skin with the help of the sticky liquid. The scent of my blood was replaced with something more noxious and I was in the dark, skin raw and scrapped against rough stone. The blare of a siren was down the street and I was suddenly in a new vision angle, there was a chime from a convenience store door I was leaving. A plastic bag crinkles in my hand as I tighten the grip, fluorescent light casting the street in a soft glow as I see a mass on the side of the road, a few feet off from a crosswalk. 

I walk past the form, ignoring the scent of carrion as I make it to the cross walk. There is music in my ears, scratching at a soft and comfortable part of me. There is a vibration from the phone in my pocket and I check it as I cross, a notification of a message from my father. I shut off the phone and put it back in the pocket. A horn blares to my right and I look up, light blinding me before a mass hits me. When I can feel again pain is radiating from each part of me and I am at the same first angle, staring at a street light that blots out the stars.

The cycle repeats and repeats and repeats and I am left to see myself become the mass on the side of the road.

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The week has been hectic, the staff moving in flurries as they prepare for some banquet Tamin has called for the aristocrats of the Spring Court. The kitchens turned me away and I was left to wander the halls before Ianthe swept me to my rooms. Tamlin was holed up in his study and I could barely hear the exchange of shouts behind the heavy door as we passed. Lucien had gone in there this morning after we had a quiet morning breakfast over some tea and I had not seen him since.

“Oh, come along now, we must get you into an appropriate dress.” Ianthe tittled by my ear as she dragged me along, not heeding to the sounds of shouts as she half shoved me into my rooms. She quickly sent me with two servants to wash up with some comment of me smelling like a puca. I heard her rustling in my room as I was placed into a bath. 

I have grown able to control my stomach against the heavy smell of bath salts but it still has my stomach clenching as I let them scrub my skin of the grime of the day. Thin fingers scrape my scalp as they work a rose scented shampoo through it. I am roughly handled by Ianthe’s servants as they clean and dry me, rubbing me down with perfumed oil that left me feeling dirtier than at the start of the bath. Ianthe came in with a dress, full skirt and billowing sleeves that distorted my senses even more as I was put into it.

My hair was done up in tight braids, straining my skin before I was done up in makeup. Through the entire process I did not resist, only the occasional jerk against Ianthe’s sharp nails as she maneuvered me. Though I knew I should hate her, and should probably kill her now before she was able to cause any damage, I could not find the energy to do much more than let my ire seam into my mental walls that I had been keeping up. The venomous thoughts served to reinforce the stone that had blackened and melded together.

I was escorted with Ianthe just ahead of me, robes of pale blue splaying behind her as I followed. The dress itched at my skin, the sleeves having been made of lace to disguise my swirling bargain, the bargain that has been terrifyingly silent for the two months since I had killed Amarantha. It was a sunny yellow that washed out my skin and tight slippers were already digging into my feet as we walked to a ballroom.

The ceilings were high and the floor swelled with the writhing of bodies, courtiers, ladies, and lords all mixing as bright music sung through the air. There were tall windows that revealed the setting sun, sky stained orange and burgundy and petal pink from behind glittering glass. I see Tamlin now, sitting in a throne at the front of the room and my heart races, eyes recalling a different room with no windows and another throne of stone. But he smiles at me as he stands and I am ushered to one of the two chairs that sits just next to the throne with its green twigs sprouting from under an arm rest and its clawed feet having roots that dive into the smooth marble floor.

He takes me into a warm hug with a laugh as I return it softly before he pulls back, “Sweet Feyre, I am so glad you were able to make it tonight. And I see Ianthe has dressed you to be as sweet as honey.” He shoots a glance to the priestess above my shoulder and I can feel her preen from here. I take a step back as the hug ends and I see nothing of the emissary, assuming Lucien has been lost to the crowd. 

“Of course, Tamlin, I would not miss this for the world.” The words fall easily from my lips, the right words, and it's not like I had much choice in being here. Still the niceties are common and effortless as I slide into the role I know he wishes to see me as. The victor of the lands, who fought for his and the rest of Prythian’s freedom and has come to reside peacefully in his manor once again. 

I take my seat, the farther chair from the throne, as the party continues on around me and I feel a sudden dropping in my gut and I am observing, removed from the crowd entirely as I watch. There is something haunting about no longer being an active participant in the room as I see Tamlin laugh with some stone skinned woman, her hair drooping mass of moss and lichen sprawling over the gray skin. Perhaps it is minutes or hours that flicker by as I nestle into my observatory. The windows grew dark until it was black outside and the flicker of fire lighting the room from burning candles made the glass shine like it had just been poured from a crucible.  

Lucien comes from the crowd, his face twisted in an odd expression, his brows furrowed and his eyes darting everywhere around me. Tamlin rises from his throne and the crowd goes silent, the movements of skirts and coattails coming to an end. I stand next to Lucien,I notice heavy bags have formed under his eyes and I let my knuckles brush against his in reassurance. His hand retracts from mine to cross with his other one in front of his body, I follow the same motion as Tamlin addresses the crowd.

“Two months has passed since we have been released from the curse” He says in a booming voice, pausing for a moment to allow the crowd to cheer, “And to celebrate the tremendous occasion I have pushed back the Tithe till the new year, let the land and it’s people heal and come together until tradition can yet be reinstated.” He paused before flourishing a hand towards us and Lucien stepped forward. “To help usher in the new beginnings of the Spring Court, I am here to announce the engagement of Feyre Archeron, our Liberator, and my faithful Emissary, Lucien Vanserra. The ceremony will be held under the new moon of next month, and I pray that all of you can attend.” With that he sat back down in his throne looking rather satisfied as he looked to Lucien.

I am still observing and I am afraid to come back to myself, to have to think about the words. Lucien still did not look at me, not because of formalities of the court but because he had been shameful. My stomach is in knots but I get through the night, watching the revelries around me as the party continues. Many faces of fae come up to me with congratulations and I am not sure what I say as I drink from heavy goblets of wine and flutes of champagne.

As the party winds down I am snapped back into myself and the night crushes down on me, thoughts blurring with the alcohol in my blood. I was disgusted and could not stop myself from fleeing from my spot, heading towards a servant's door that was closest to me. I bumped into a servant girl with a new tray of champagne flutes as I went and I heard Lucien apologize to her as he follows after me.

I can’t breathe, I can’t think as I go through the narrow walkway, ducking into another side passage that lets out into the hallway. There are a few trickling nobility in the halls, some glancing at me as I made my way to the nearest room I can think of with a semblance of privacy. I see the doorway of the infirmary and duck into it quickly, the fae lights on the wall staying dark as I hurl into the basin of the sink.

I am washing my mouth out with stale water in the faucet when I see the door open from the corner of my eye. Lucien slipped into the room with a deep set frown on his face. I send a glare at him before I pull away from the sink, sitting on the dusty bed in the infirmary. There was a thin coat of dust coating everything in here and it was obvious the staff had forgotten to clean it in the months since I had bandaged up Tamlin. 

Lucien sat next to me with his head hung low, hands folded in his lap as he opened his mouth and shut it again, repeatedly like a fish gasping on land. “I am sorry Feyre, I should have told you before the ball. That's not an announcement someone should learn about in front of others.”  

My skin itches and I resist scratching at my arm through the sleeves as I swallow a knot that had formed in my throat. “I don’t want to marry you, Lucien. You are a brother, not a lover.” The words claw out my throat, coated in fear that I want to wash away to the hot anger under my skin. He hums his response as he thinks some more, I see the gears in his brain whirring while his golden eye spins in place.

“I know, I know. Tamlin wanted to show everyone that the court has grown past Amarantha, and he knows you wouldn’t marry him. I tried telling him that this isn’t the way to do it but he wouldn’t hear me.” Lucien’s voice cracked as he reached a hand out to mine, squeezing my fingers as he moved in front of me to look into my teary eyes. I don’t know when I started crying, the fury over flowing from myself and I want to staunch it at its source. “I am so sorry, there was nothing I could do. I’ve known him for nearly 5 centuries and I-” He is about to start a sentence and I remember his executed lover but he regains his voice a moment later ,“ I never thought I would marry. But though it might not be a marriage of love I do not think it would be so bad to at least put up a front for a couple years.” 

Something burns in me and it consumes me so wholly I smell smoke as I rise from the bed, shoving Lucien away. “No-no, no!” I’m screaming it as I back up, running into the work bench, my hands bracing against it. The dam that I had been hiding behind was giving away and thoughts were pouring from loose lips, “Lucien, no. I am not going to become a figurehead for Tamlin’s shows of peace. Fuck, Lucien, things aren’t okay. Do you think Amarantha is the end of it? She was one general, one, from Hybern. Use your damned head, I know you know how, and see that things are not over in the slightest. Do you think that us having a ceremony is going to change that? It is a distraction for the hell readying against the world on the other side of the ocean.” My breathing had turned heavy and sweat was beading along my brow, anger burning me from the inside out, charring away the empty and filling it with that blood boiling rage that made me feel warm.

It was so good to feel again that I did not care that I was yelling at Lucien, not as he already looked cowed and his eye was shining with fear in the fire light. “A party and a wedding is not the solution when there is a King ready to slaughter and enslave my race. Please Lucien, make Tamlin call it off. Neither of us want this, a political play like this will not end well.” No matter how good it felt my voice was cracking as tears of anger rose to my eyes. I tried in vain to blink them away before they fell down my face.

There is silence, only filled by my panting and I still smell smoke, acrid and tangy as I heave. Lucien’s eyes aren’t looking at me in their shock, they are darting between the bed I had just risen from and to my hands. A light that should not be in the room flickers out as I look down to my hands, the last bits of embers floating down from my burnt cuffs. There are two distinct hand prints charred into the wood; and the cotton where my hands had gripped before I had risen were crumbling ash now. The smoke was not my mind supplying me with a new sense but actual smoke that was rising from where my hands touched.

Black ash smeared on my dress as I quickly batted my hands against the puffy skirts. The ink of skin had disguised the burned sleeves soot but now gave way, staining the bright yellow. My thoughts have gone quiet, silencing themselves as I am left in the moment, Lucien still staring at me through the dark. 

“Th- Has that happened before?” His voice is unsure as his words double over themself, his limbs rigid as he slowly rises to come up next to me. I was looking at my hands, where soot still remained under the edges of my fingernails as I shook my head slowly. A different heat was building in my chest though, pushing away fear as I matched Lucien’s gaze.

I squealed as I ran to him, taking him into a hug and spinning him around as I did so. Rage had turned to bubbling ecstasy that I never wanted to leave, it felt like getting drunk on solstice wine and I loved its warmth. He was taken aback for a moment before he stopped my spinning and I hadn’t realized I had lifted him from the ground until I had to lower him to the ground. I had been expecting nothing in the back of my mind, a tantalizing thought if I was different from Feyre and the mother had seen to deem me unworthy of the coiling energy in the center of my chest that tugged at me. But I was wrong and heat was thawing my veins and allowing a heavy pulse to push through what I had thought dead and withered. It was a rush, a falling into the sky where I was weightless and had nothing binding my mind, I was drugged on power and I never wanted to let it fade.

“Feyre- oh by the mother, Feyre.” He said with such grief it struck my joy upside its head and it evaporated from my heart. My anger rushed back in like a tide as he took my shoulder’s in his hands and I remembered the anger I had just been feeling at him, at his weak constitution against Tamlin. “We have to tell Tamlin, this changes so much Feyre. You are a target for the other high lor-”

“No” The word is harsh as I cut him off. For once I did not want him to tell each and every one of my secrets to Tamlin. I hadn’t told him of Tamlin coming to the closet under the mountain but I am sure he would have seen the commotion and- my bones are aching at any memory of the courtroom and who I had been with. I was a fallen angel from the sky and my words were venom dripping from serpent fangs, “I am done with being the trophy of the spring court. I won, Lucien. Not him or you, but me. I am the one that died and I damn sure do not want it to happen again so you will keep your mouth shut to Tamlin about this and you will teach me how to control this.” I steady my breathing and I am about to rub my hand over my face but think better of it. “I can pretend for a little while, but you will find a way to call this wedding off and I will find a way to control this is.” 

I leave him with my command before I walk out of the storage room, snagging a towel to drape over my arms and hide the burned chiffon and soot stains as I smile and nod to the servants I pass and the nobility that cut hungry eyes at me. I was in my head and did not see the trailing stares, not as I think of where I was willing to compromise and how I could change my life yet again.

My room is a welcome reprieve as I slam the door behind me and I wince against the shake of the door frame. I felt exhausted and drained of life as I looked in the moon washed room. The yellow dress was even more of an affront in the silver light than it had been when I had first gotten dressed. I sighed as I started to undo the laces at the back of it, at least with the engagement it would keep Lucien from Ianthe’s hands but it also removed the barrier that had stood in the way of Ianthe becoming a high lord consort. I worried the skin of my lip between my teeth as I chucked the puffy monstrosity into the corner of the room and returned to the bathing chamber. A tub of warm water always waited for me there and I slid into it easily.

There were no bubbles or salts in this one, just a few stray rose petals that scurried from my hand as I traced a finger along the water surface. The ash made the water gray and my eyelids were being drug down my face. A reverberating wrench of yearning hit my heart. I wanted things to be easy, I wanted to lay down and have a night where tears and pleas did not mar my face from nightmares or the overwhelming waves of cruel, wicked, poisonous emotions that filled me. I wanted to return to the early days of joking in spring meadows over a bottle of sparkling wine, of getting high off my rocker with witchberries. I wanted anything else than these high crests of emotion that left me hollow and ruined when they chased away to another shore.

An evil tide, those emotions were. My face was hot with tears and I wiped them away as I took to using a rough brush to scrub the soot from my nails and hands. I wanted to go home, it had been so close, and the door to it had been slammed into my face and I wanted nothing more than to rot into my bed and never come back to. But that was selfish and I could not be selfish when the sisters across the wall didn’t know their sister had truly died and the imposter was forever left wearing her skin like a cheap costume. Not when power that licked in my veins seemed to rejoice at the vile emotions that flowed with it. 

I drag myself to the cold bed with a fluffy robe around me, too tired to dig through the closet and find a nightgown as I collapse into it. I give an empty tug down the bargain with Rhys, he had missed coming to cash in our bargain twice but I knew it had taken 3 months to recover before. That had been with him reeling from the mating bond with Feyre and rebelling Illyrian camps. My head hurt and I decided to leave thinking to be an issue for me another day.

Sleep beckoned with its razor tipped hands that I was forced to take, drifting off easily to another night of terrors I knew would find me. Hopefully I would sleep through them, perhaps the dreams would be an empty expanse of dark sleep. Those nights were becoming rarer and I hoped honing the magic would exhaust me to dreamless sleeps like I had before.

That was a sweet thought, and I savored the potential promise as I faded into the night sky that danced just past my eyelids.

Chapter Text

The next day I try to find Lucien as he leaves his room, which should have been easy considering it was just across the hall but even as I woke up well before the sun rose his door never opened. I left my room door open as I asked a servant girl with goose down for hair to fetch me a book from the library, one I had cataloged in a short book shelf at the front of the library. I had a little more than a month and a half, 42 days to be exact, and I needed to find a way to disrupt the marriage and somehow get Rhysand to come get me without Feyre’s wedding-induced panic attack. The servant came back with the book and I thanked her with a sweet and soft smile before I sat with my feet propped up on the covers, having changed into loose pants and a simple tunic during the time she had been gone. 

 My toes were tucked under a quilt and I stole glances into the hallway with each turn of the page, staring at one of the double doors that led to his rooms. My hands were tracing the edge of the page, feeling the ridge of each finger print catch against the rough edge of the paper. The page was familiar, the anatomy of sub-species of Prythian Fae. There were no terms like High Fae or Lesser Fae, it was near scientific and it calmed the academic part of me that was always on the edge of disappearing over the edge with each fantastical thing I was forced to live through.

Like dying, dying and coming back in newly forged flesh made for a different soul. That was not science, and I didn’t even know if the old rules of my world applied here. But the book was a solace and told me of evolutions between species the author had witnessed, some old souls who had been around for millenia of millenia, old even by fae standards. Wraiths came forth from shadows to other mediums, finding dark cast by water or wood before they were able to adapt and blend into the new matter. It was compelling and for once my eyes remained focused as I read and reread the evolution of Illyrian traditions and physiology.

Their ears had rounded over the generation, northern winds having left many with frostbite that rotted the tips of traditional fae ears that had once possessed. It was a similar assumption as to why the claws had formed on the apex of each wing, a trait that had not been apart of the ancestors of Illyrians that had come from a southern continent, the callused tip serving to cut the brunt of the cold wind that left everything half-frozen after an hour in the air. 

It was therapeutic to have academia, have reasoning and explanation at my fingertips where everything was so… in the air? Even with the suspense of magic there I was left with a bitter tang in my mouth at the lack of explanation or science at all that this world took into account. I had spent so long in school, hunched over books to understand formulas and theories, structures and lines to follow and now those were gone and it felt all so useless.

I was just about to turn the same page for the 3rd time that day when I saw movement in the hallway. I was excited for a moment, moving to close the book and stand before I realized Lucien’s door hadn’t opened at all and I was staring into the teal eyes of a Hybern Priestess. She smiled sweetly and I noticed the bundle she was carrying in her arms, the blue robes she always wore dragging behind her as she came into my room.

“I hope I am not intruding, especially after such an exciting night last night,” She sighs and I narrow my eyes at her slightly as I sit back down in my chair, “Too bad you had not stuck around later, the night was heavenly.”

 The connotation in her voice had my stomach wanting to crawl out of my throat and escape this conversation. Her promiscuity had been obvious since she had come to the manor, no more than a dozen days after I had come back. I had seen far too many half-dressed men and women alike scurrying from her rooms in early mornings for me to do more than grimace at the reminder. At least she had kept her hands off of anyone who lived in the estate, as far as I was aware.

“I’m similarly aggrieved, but I do think I had enough party to last me for quite a while.” I smiled at her and bit back on words that pushed their way to the forefront of my mind. “Now may I ask what you have come for?” 

Maybe there was some bite in my words, I wasn’t perfect at covering my dislike for her and I was also not perfect at caring if I tried to cover it. She gave me a tight smile and the line of moon phases on her brow scrunched together. “I was going to invite you to walk in the gardens, perhaps start talking about the details of your wedding since we have such a tight timeline for all these things. Perhaps set a schedule where I can help explain your role in this court a bit better.” 

The condescension hung from each of her words like a droplet about to fall, but still I gave her that trained smile with crinkling eyes and straight teeth. Maybe my animosity had no basis yet, but I saw the flicker of desire in her eyes everytime she looked at Tamlin; not the desire of bodies but the one of power, to situate herself at his side and get a foot hold for her sponsor across the sea. I had tried dropping hints to her over the weeks, asking about where she had been during the curse- a distant court, I was able to use a connection to get out of Prythian before the curse had come . 

“I was hoping to talk to my betrothed first before starting to plan. I hope you understand that I have never been the type to plan these sorts of things.” I lied through my teeth, and then I saw a new movement in the hall. Lucien’s door was opening and he was dragging himself out, hair messily braided back as he peeked his head into the hallway and grabbed the small arm of the fake woman that had brought me my book. “Speaking of which.” 

I brushed past her and caught the tail end of Lucien’s words before he started retreating back into his room again. I caught the edge of the door in my hand, the wood groaning against my grip as I smiled at him, this time more genuine with excitement to bring that burn back to my veins.

“May we have a word?” I half-whisper the words to him as he looked at me, still obviously exhausted from the task he had been doing during the time in his room. His eyes were bleary and it took him a long moment where he blinked slowly to nod and open the door to me more. I heard Ianthe huff slightly and the swish of her layers as she returned to her duties, whatever they were. I go into the room, eyes changing quickly to accommodate for the low lighting in his room.

While he may be the spring emissary his room is blatantly autumnal, littered with memorabilia from the other courts, as far as I could tell. The walls were a burnt umber and gold lined each textile from his bed linens to the carpet under my feet as I moved through it. It smelled like a low burning fire, mixed with the same roasting chestnut smell he must have gotten from his mother. He had obviously been in the middle of writing, crumpled pieces of paper overflowing from the waste basket near his desk and a glass ink-pen sitting next to an open jar of ink. I was more intrigued by the sun bleached conch shell that sat on a shelf over his desk, a large tapestry behind the desk depicting snow capped mountains with dark shapes I knew were wolves, all framed by the burning colors of fall leaves. 

“Look- Tamlin is out today with all the nobles but I’ve been thinking that if I can use your bargain with Rhysand I can get him to at least push back the date-- but that is if he doesn't fly off the handle. Gods,” He runs a hand down his face as I turn to him and I watch him pace across his carpet, “You do not know how angry he gets about that, but I can work with it. ” 

His voice had grown reedy at the end of his sentence and he sat on the edge of the bed. This was taking a toll on him, in more than one way, and guilt sucker-punched me right in the nose as I walked back over to him. I had added more burden to him, asked him to nearly betray his friend he had spent centuries with and I am sure that if I walked over to that waste basket I would find dozens of ditched letters trying to explain to Tamlin on both of our behalfs. I leaned my shoulder against his, ignoring the prickling sensation that ran over my skin like a thousand needles searching for a vein.

“Can I help with it, any of it?” The question feels so useless, so small against everything else. It's even smaller when he shakes his head and slumps his weight against me, resting his head on my shoulder. I looked back to the room, now noticing the small piles of clothes strewn about, blades of all types out of their sheaths, broken quills on every flat table, open books stacked on top of eachother. 

“I can help with paperwork,anything. Honestly I need something to do, and if it takes some of it all off of you then we can have time to figure out how to keep me from setting up like a torch.” I tried laughing through it, to make it easier for him to accept because I could see it eating at him. The smile that I had nearly always seen that crinkled his scar under the mask had been gone for so long and he was drowning. All while I was wallowing and lounging about he was drowning in all of this. “Maybe we can even convince Tam you are trying to show me the ropes for my new life, figure out how to write between courts and deal with all your fae politics.” 

He contemplated for a moment before he straightened himself, taking his weight from me. “That would help, but we need to talk about that with Tamlin first. If he found out I got you tangled into politics - I think even being your fiance would not save my skin on this one.” We both take a minor twin cringe at the word fiance before I nod my head enthusiastically, assuring Lucien I would talk to Tamlin within the week.

“Sleep some, you can't work if you are going delirious.” I say as I raise from the bed, moving to pick up his room a little bit. He was drained enough that he just gave me a thankful look before dragging himself up the bed slightly and falling asleep right there, still dressed in his crinkled finery from the night before.

I moved around the room, trying to organize the mess. It had to have been weeks worth of clothes thrown everywhere, hanging from unlit candles and kicked under dressers, and every time I thought I found the last piece I would see a glint of a gold button from the corner of my eye and add it to the pile. The weapons weren’t much better, mixed in with the clothes as they were and stacked on top of shelves as I collected them as well. Every part of the mess found its own corner for me to address later, just me working my way through and trying to make a clear path where I walked.

When everything had been cleared I was left staring at the towering piles; laundry in one corner, books and knives in the other, multiple cups and mugs and wine glasses having been found with plates that had dried smears of sauce. I was silent as I slid from the room to ask a pair of twin male servants to get a laundry cart and a book cart from the library as I walked down the hall to the kitchen with my hands stacked high with dishes. The cooks and cleaners on staff looked horrified as I toed the door open with a sheepish smile before I set the dishes down by the sink. I saw whispers go up between the two dish girls for the night as I left and wondered what type of rumors that could possibly be spread over some plates. When I got back to Lucien’s room I saw the two carts had been placed outside. I threw in arm fulls of laundry, checking for more hidden knives as I went. When it was stacked high I gave the basket to a servant who had come to me, looking more and more distraught as she saw me wipe sweat from my brow and smile at her. 

The more I worked, ducking in and out of Lucien’s room as I took things out, the more staff seemed to find themselves walking down the hall. Sticking close together as their eyes followed me pushing a cart heavy with books. I was useful, tasks needing to be completed with a clear goal. It was so easy and nice to fall into it, to be able to stop thinking. Now the majority of the room was clean, with Lucien snoring softly in his bed as I sat down with a soft huff in the grand chair that sat in front of his desk. I still heard the wisps of servant shoes against the stone as they pressed against the seams of the door. It seemed the servants were just as nosey as the rest of spring, desperate for some drama ,including my arranged marriage, to entertain themselves.

I leafed through some of the papers I had organized on his desk, wishing for my old world’s filing cabinets just to organize the growing pile of addresses from other courts’ emissaries. They all asked for support, supplies, all while offering little in return. The worst of the demands seem to come from Autumn court, broken red wax seals that came back together to show a three pronged flame, echoing the shape of a maple leaf. I also noticed the lack of any Night court seals, none displaying Ramiel or any insinuation of the high lord that continued to infuriate me.

I had separated the piles by court and then ordered them by date, really for all the fine metal working I had seen in this world I would have assumed they could have made some letter holders that were more than wicket baskets. The wax from each court present was different and I studied each symbol while I waited for the servants to trickle away and I could sneak out to find the High Lord of this court and convince him to let me give a hand in his court. I sighed, a headache coming back, I was probably dehydrated from all my cleaning and I hadn’t had breakfast and thinking of how I was going to convince Tamlin to both let me help Lucien in emissary duties and to annul the engagement. And I had to do that today, or else the day of silence after he had sent a wrecking ball into my life would be too much of an acquiescence.

I heard a knock on the door, soft and quick, and got up to open the door. Tamlin was there, in a prim suit of dusty rose and beige, with his hands crossed behind his back. I hadn’t had a full conversation with him in weeks, not since he had awoken in my room under the mountain, and I had been avoiding him just as much as he had been avoiding me. But he looked sheepish here, young and inexperienced in the runnings of a court before Amarantha had staunched his learning.

I moved into the hallway, closing the door behind me softly before we started walking down the hallway, an arms length away from each other as we followed a familiar path. His study had been part of my daily path before, and walking back into it with new senses felt like walking into a childhood home years after a new family had moved in. Each groove of the wood was familiar but the creek of them felt new and off along with the stuttering of the feet of Tamlin’s throne-like chair. His desk was a mess, papers strewn about and crumpled where they laid under cups, water stains from where condensation had dripped down the side also sending the ink spreading like tendrils. He sat down heavily, dropping his body into it like it was too exhausting for his bones to hold up the rest of him. 

“Tam-” 

“Feyre-”

We had both started talking at the same time, stopping to let the other one continue until a lapsing moment of silence before I motioned him to talk first.

“Lucien had raised some issues with me about your engagement-” He coughed into his hands for a second before he ran a hand through his hair, the fingers catching on tangles that he ripped past in frustration. “And he made me aware that you had not been informed of it, at least before last night.”

He was frustrated as he brought his hand back to the edge of the desk, claws digging into the wood through a curled piece of parchment before he pulled back with another slight grimace. “It was my intent to discuss the proposal with you beforehand, but with the damage of the court making itself known I feel like I am being drawn and quartered into every village in the land. Still I should have found the time, instead of giving a letter to Ianthe describing the expectations of the marriage and the duties you will be incharge of. I thought the marriage is something you would be excited about, not opposed to- with how clear you had made it that you were not interested in me before I had sent you home, I had thought you and Lucien had grown closer on those patrols.”

He was rambling and maybe I would have found reasons to be more mad at him but I had stopped listening to the last part of his words. Ianthe , Ianthe had had a letter to tell me this, a letter never delivered in long hours forced into her company when I could not hide.

“I never got a letter.” I say the words in a blank rush, the panicking anger at the pristest boiling internally, the pressure building inside. But I could see past the cloudy haze of anger to where Tamlin gave a nod as he swallowed thickly, looking to a corner of a room with quick darts of his eyes.

“I was informed of that this morning,” He was becoming more anxious with his words and I smelled the iron tang of blood in the air as he worried the inside of his lip between sharpening teeth, the red staining the pale pink lips as he paused. “Again I would have discussed this in person with you before last night if I had been made aware, but I have also been avoidant of this place for my own reason.” 

“What-” I was going to ask for elaboration but he shook his head before handing me a sealed letter, the envelope thick with paper.

“I’ve detailed your duties there, none of them will be officially started before after the wedding, but it would be beneficiary to get accustomed to it. Lucien has also sent in a request for .” And there it was, the wedding was still on. He knew I didn’t want this but he wasn’t withdrawing his announcement.

“Tamlin.” I caught his attention with his name, firm and stronger than I had been expecting, warmed and hardened with a hot pulse under my skin. Still I had to be rational, needed to keep a foothold here to keep from the king taking the power vacuum Feyre had left before. “I would like to request some formal lessons on the dignitaries of this court and the other courts with Lucien, it would also help if he could delegate some of the simpler tasks of his to someone else. He is exhausted as it is now.”

Tamlin paused for a moment too long as he picks up a peice of paper that was more yellowed than the rest of them, the edge of the paper glinting with the faintest shimmer of gold. “I have contacted some old friends from Day court to free you from that bargain to the Night Court, do not think I’ve forgotten. But if we must travel that closer to their borders to do so it would be beneficial for you to at least know some of the courtiers and such.” He nods his head and stands, swaying slightly on his feet before he steadies with another clawed hand in that ornate chair of his. I take the dismissal and go to the door, swinging it in and holding it open for him to pass through before I follow suit, making sure I hear the door snicker shut before I continue down the hall with him.

“Once the Court has calmed I would love to play with you again.” He says as we pass the old room where we would spend hours playing over the old grand piano in there. I look at the closed door, at the dark shadows that come forth from the threshold of the room and hurry past it.

“One day.” I say before we come to a fork in the hall, one heading back towards the library and the other to the gardens. I look down the garden hall to see a small gaggle of courtiers that had been living in the Manor for the past month. They all turned and waved at Tamlin, ushering him over, and I balked, giving him a quiet goodbye as I ducked into the opposite hall, heading to the library.

I found a small room, a study for scholars that used to live here but had been left empty when many had fled from the manor when Amarantha had ransacked it. I sat onto the cushioned bench, small flurries of dust flying into the air. I just needed a moment to calm the galloping of my heart. God, just the idea of talking to so many people was daunting, terrifying for no other reason than their praise. I was afraid of the thanks, afraid that if I heard another ‘thank you,’ or ‘Mother bless you’ I would crack and scream and tell them how wrong they were, how broken and cruel I was. 

I lavished in the quiet, setting my elbows on the hard wood of the desk as I took in deep breaths. The stretch in my shoulders let my chest expand easier and I would have laid there until lunch if the door hadn’t started to open.I straightened, picking a piece of large dust from my tunic as I did so and brushed a stray section of hair from my flushed face. Ianthe’s face came into the door before the rest of her ,flowing robes a swaying mass of azure and silver where it clinked at her wrists and neck.

“Ah, Feyre, there you are.” She says it like a scolding mother, “I heard that you had gone to discuss things with Tamlin after some long hours in Lucien’s rooms.” The insinuation was clear enough that the quick crush of panic I had been working through was washed away on an icy wave that was already honing my own quips.

“I must apologize for my empty mindedness, a fortnight ago Tamlin had given me a correspondence for you.” She produces a stained and tattered envelope from somewhere in the folds of the fabrics, “I do so often get distracted when alone together that I simply forgot, and one day I hope to have a more formal role here so these things are not a regular occurance.”

Something slid into place, a fractiling piece of a puzzle that had been coming together around me and the image became clear. The closeness she sat next to him during dinners, how his hands always were tightly clenched around the silverware, why he had been avoiding me, avoidant for my own reasons he had said, why despite months of casual friendship he had not come to me in the long weeks, and how the way his steps had hurried toward the courtiers and away from the library where she often lurked in the corners like a soul sucking wraith .

Everything froze in the moment, the crinkling smile in her eyes that had the same gleam a redheaded bitch queen had looked at me with, the soft plane of her forehead where tattoos were unmarred, and hands that had a past of wandering to where they were unwelcome.I was going to be her hell and there was no god she could pray to that would spare her, not without having to snap my neck again and again.

Chapter Text

 I don’t remember moving, don’t know where the glittering blade came from until I was crushing her into the desk and the door shook as it slammed into place. I was going to destroy her, I was going to kill her now and I was going to make it hurt.

Her hands were pinned to the wood , fingers splayed over the edge, and the silver bangles and ring on her bent and crushed ever so slightly as I took the blade and stabbed into the wood just before her fingers. Her face was pale as I finally looked into those turquoise eyes. I should have done this much sooner, before her claws had a chance to hurt and before she could poison Tamlin’s mind with promises from the king. It was time to declaw the cat.

“Please- Please, What are you doing? Feyre this isn’t you!” She's pleading and I boil over.

“This is me .” The voice is a distant growl in my ears as I feel her pulse under my fingertips. It's frantic like a cornered animal and I am glad, glad she is afraid and glad to use the hours I had spent in the woods with a knife under hand. I knew the joints, knew where blood would flow as I lowered the knife, silent weeks in the kitchen training the rocking of my wrist as I led the honed edge of the knife through the milky skin. Red blooms under the black of the blade that had come from nowhere, the liquid catching and sliding down the edge to pool at the tip still in the wood. 

This was me because I was the murderer who put an arrow through a sentinel's eye, I was the one who had driven two daggers into a fae queens thorax, I was the one who had been happy when my neck snapped under her fingers, I was the one who killed Feyre before she had drawn her first arrow. This was me and this was the time to use the caustic black of disgust in my heart into something useful.

She was screaming and there was a banging that conflicted with the beating of my heart in my ears. Maybe the air had deigned to align with my pulse as I felt it push against my skin, pulling the iron scent of Ianthe’s blood to my nose like pollen, sweeter than any rose in the gardens. The blade hit something solid, cartilage of the pinky finger as the flood of blood had started running between her ring and pointer fingers. I pressed harder, willing the blade through the pinky with a crunch, and its reverberation up the tang of the blade and into the palm of my hand was familiar, like disarticulating a small fowl I had caught one autumn.

The digit fell limp from the table, its muscles twitching as Ianthe screamed even louder. Tears were running down her face, flushed and red with protruding veins along her temple as she trashed against the table. Her legs had collapsed at some point and the invisible shackles that kept her hands to the edge of the table were the only thing keeping her from collapsing fully to the floor. It sent a pulse of hot indignation, sent blood into my limbs as my arms shot out and grabbed the back of those sky blue robes. 

The door was gone behind us and there were figures there, their screams not reaching me as I pulled her up, her feet kicking out as she tried to find the ground. Her cries became louder, blubbering as she looked at the red pool on the table and the shortened finger. Her hands tightened further on the table as she tried pulling away but I kept her there, forcing her red rimmed turquoise eyes to look into mine. I do not know what she saw there, do not know what reflected across steel gray and if the fire inside me had made them molten as I felt.

“You-” I start with a punctuated slide of the blade along the back of her knuckles, “are going to pay for every touch- “ I let the metal dig into the raw flesh of the missing pinky, “every look,” Her eyes were afraid and I wanted to be afraid, I wanted to be afraid of what I was doing, “Every thought.” 

I think I’ve gone insane, I think the oil of my soul has seeped out and is staining the perfect picture I have wanted to keep, the mask of lucidity has fallen. But it's warm, and it doesn’t tell me how to talk and how to stand, doesn’t reprimand me for savoring the sharpness of new teeth as they poke into my lip when I smile, for liking the new predator that scratches under the cage of my skin. I like the insanity, and I’m starting to think that it was more crazy to deny and hide from it. 

Ianthe is pale as she looks back up at me, ruined and disheveled, but she still has hope of being rescued from me as she looks past me. She doesn’t talk to me when she continues to plead and I need her attention on me, I need her to listen and follow my orders. Maybe it's too easy to grab her consciousness, to hold it like a hand under a chin as I make her look at me, make her pleas die in her throat.

“You will never lay a hand on anyone again- If I hear even a whisper that you have, either you cut off the hand or I will cut off your head.” I grip her soul, grip her life and imbed it so deep in her brain it would kill her to even attempt to dig out. Red has pooled at my feet and it's dripping from her nose, and I wonder why Feyre was ever so afraid of the color when it's filling my chest with such jubilance it coats my tongue like dripping honey.  Something had slipped, my mind or my grip or my blood in my veins stuttered, and shattered in the air. 

Black floods in, glittering and cooling black night that nips at my skin and draws away heat I had not realized had gathered there. I am in those turquoise eyes, see the crushing force of ink flow forward and envelop us, see the disheveled face of Tamlin step back solemnly from the splintered door frame, Lucien in a rumpled shirt having to be dragged back with Tamlin. I see jaws move, words and curses must be coming forth from them but it is quiet. 

It is so quiet the heat radiating from thin hands has turned into a sound, a ripple of dripping and I am launched out of Ianthe’s mind and ricochet into my own, conscious rattling as it tries to find how to fit in a body again. Sea salt and citrus embed into my nose, flushing away iron and I’m falling back and away from the desk, stumbling through the dark.

My head is slamming into my brain, a headache erupting so abruptly my breath is stolen away, crushed from my lungs by a sledgehammer I cannot see. Things are wrong, so wrong and I can’t find up and down, I am being crushed in the empty space. There is sound again, or maybe the silence has ruined my ears because they are ringing, ringing so violently I am a bell being tolled at high noon. I am a bomb, mid explosion and I am desperate to contain it. I am pulling the fragments of myself back together, taught and condensing until I am ready to turn into a black hole, until I will implode and let the burn of my blood ignite me.

My blood cools so slightly as large hands encompass my shoulders, pulling me into a solid figure and I cling to it. The body is warm and I am being torn apart as I bury my face in soft fabric. I think I’m crying, my face is wet and I can’t breathe until one of the hands is at my back and I am being thrown through the star flecked black. Constellations burst behind my eyelids.

The black parts and I am surrounded by bright white as I blink my eyes back open, so pristine and glittering that I cannot see for a moment but I am moving. I don’t know where I was going, only blue and air and wind pulling me to a ledge, not as my legs collapse under me and I am pouring out. I think there is a scream, mine or someone else’s I never will figure out, as the beast inside me is clawing out, clawing out of my throat. Whatever gods had been playing with my soul were coming for repentance, some debt that I cannot pay and I am burning and freezing and splintering at the seams of my atoms. I am nuclear.

A claws drags across my mind ,nails across a chalkboard but the walls that held my mind together are gone and I am a raw wound exposed to the air. The tip of the claw is dipping in, a devil tasting my agony before they put me out of my misery, digging to someplace that has my heart shuddering and stopping.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

My body hurts. Hurts in that deep space that nestles against the bone and will not dispel as I shift where I lay. My skin is tacky and fabric is clinging to my spine and the back of my legs as I roll over, dragging the blanket with me.

I think there are voices around me, a hushed discussion that had my heart beating behind my eyes painfully as I tried to focus. But my senses are slipping from my grasp and I am asleep again. This sleep is dreamless and I like its warmth, like the prickle of cold against my nose and cheeks from a stray breeze I can’t place. My mouth is dry and stale and my eyes are scratching like sand is trapped behind them, scraping along my eyes with each twitch as I try and keep them closed. I try to ignore the discomfort, to fall back into sleep.

I can feel the air of the room around me and each moment that has my senses reawakening is a moment I fight against it. But my mind is itching along with my skin, the chill of my nose as I breathe in thin air, the humidity and warmth of spring court is gone and my eyes are shooting open only to slam back shut against the brightness of the room.

I blink slowly, growing used to the light as I crawl from the bed, sheets dipping under me as my skin prickles against the air. I am in an ill-fitting nightgown, the shoulder too tight and the hem too short to be comfortable as I make my way across the room. Tall pillars of moonstone bracketed a balcony where the light breeze is coming from, the air smelling ever so slightly of lilacs as I walk out onto it. There is a light dusting of snow under my feet, I feel the cold biting my skin as I look into the gray-blue winter sky. 

I have lost my breath, lost a sense of place as the wind cools the tiring ache that sits in my body. There is a soft powder falling around me, catching in my hair before a chill racks up my body so violently that I rush back inside, some invisible barrier keeping the majority of the freezing cold out and my hand tingles with the quick temperature change.

There is a set of clothes draped over the arm of a chair I hadn’t noticed before where it is placed at a desk. I take this same moment to look at the rest of the room, and its extravagance weakens my knees. The windows that had framed the balcony were open to the world and amethyst curtains were blowing in that cooled breeze that seemed impossible so far up this mountain. The bed I had crawled from was a swath of cream and ivory, the top most blankets disturbed from where I had laid, two golden lamps were framing the bed, the settings for candles to burn clean and polished. An armoire and a dressing table were against the same wall of the open air arch-windows and further down a large arch of ivory stone with a set wooden door looks into a bathroom. There is porcelain sink and toilet and past them is a large pool that must be the bath, open to the air as its edge blends off the edge of the mountain and water flows over that edge yet the level in the tub never seems to lessen, more sconces for candles planted around the room.

This room was royal, even compared to my spring court rooms and it felt bright and free and fresh as I turned back to the desk as a flutter of paper caught my ear. A folded piece of parchment is there, a fountain pen clattering next to it as I watch. There is a spiraling scrawl over the front “ Feyre” it reads, simple and the edges of each letter curling over itself. My hands are quick to reach for it.

My Dearest Feyre,

A large meal and the company of the High Lord of Night await you once you have washed and dressed. I presume you have your own questions of what has happened in the time we last spoke, as I have for you, and that will be discussed. We may also discuss what will be done in the future in light of your more recent explosive development.

-Rhys

A ball of lead is settling in my stomach, a snake coiling in mortification as I remember in blurry memories how I had ended up here. I had tortured Ianthe, had exploded with some magic force and my head was hurting again as I thought of it all. Tears are rising to my eyes from the pain and I blink them back with a shaky breath, a bath did sound nice as there was this invisible grime that clung to each joint.

Washing and dressing was a simpler manner than I had thought, the bath water was already steaming and unscented soaps had lined the edge with a rag. I have missed showers but more so I had missed the simplicity of washing myself without the aid of the handmaids Ianthe had insisted upon. When I was clean and my skin flushed a pink I toweled off with a towel so plush it could have been a blanket in any other court. The night court clothes they were laid out for me were even simpler to put on than the tunics of spring. No fastenings or buttons for my clumsy fingers to rip from the cloth, instead the two piece set was easy to slip on.

I walked from my room and down the corridors in the bottle green high waisted pants that matched with the top, both made of light gossamer gathered at the wrists and ankles. There was the same tug in the center of my stomach that I had felt that day under the mountain, guiding me before I had the chance to get lost in the towering isles of marble and moonstone. Doors dot the walls occasionally and I want to pause and snoop behind each of them but anytime my pace slows a sharper tug is felt with the faintest amount of exasperation. I climb flights of stairs, many open to the sky with those same glassless windows and I trudge past them with a sullen heart, wishing to admire the soft shimmers of snowflakes as winter sun reflects from them.

At the end of the upper level I see a veranda set with a beautiful display of breakfast, fresh cut fruits and pastries piled on a platter while jugs of juice and a smaller plate of what looks to be bacon and steak all sit on what looks like a glass coffee table with 3 plush chairs set around it. Rhysand is there, looking over the edge of the veranda into the snowy mountains. 

He is dressed in his usual black, and his wings are nowhere to be seen, as he is framed by the glowing light of the reflected sun from the snow. He sensed my presence the moment I had awoken, I knew that, yet I took the moment to lean against one of the pillars that framed the entrance of the veranda. The shape of him was regal, unbelievable, and I wanted to hide this image in a catacomb to visit another day, a dark day when I forget the possibility of such a simple sight. 

“You need to work on your handwriting.” I say to him, and I can't stop my grin at my own private joke, anything to push off the weight of the conversation that will need to happen if only for a few more moments.

“It seems you were able to translate it well enough, Feyre.” he says and I had been half afraid of his voice since I had awoken, afraid that I had angered him in all of this. I realize how stupid I was as he turns and his eyes are brighter than I have ever seen them. His skin has a new bronze color to it, transforming the beautiful man I had known before into nothing less than an artwork. If only a few short months had brought the color back to his skin I wondered how he had looked before, if the pale haunt of the mountain would ever leave me as it has him.

I push off the pillar and go to the table, cups and small plates appearing for me as I take a seat and I am more than happy to take the thick slices of fruit onto my plate. I don’t know how long it has been since I had mango or honeydew but they are the first ones I taste as Rhysand watches me as he takes his own seat, pouring a cup of orange juice for himself. 

His eyebrows are ever so slightly drawn together as he looks at me and I hold my cup out to him, asking for a glass of orange juice myself as I chew the soft flesh of the mango. I lick juice off my fingers before I see him spearing a pitted cherry on a fork.

“Thank you.” I say it as I reach for the set of silverware I am now just noticing next to where my plate had appeared. I pick it up with the softest touch and use it to stab a piece of cut steak.

“For what?” Rhys asks and I feel the consequences of my actions press in quickly, how to tell him I am thankful for so much he has done. I settled on the easiest thing, not to tell him I am thankful he remembered I existed and had finally come for me, that I had been removed from spring before I could hurt more than Ianthe.

“The food, its nice- good.” Maybe I had hit my head on something, a concussion would be a good excuse right now but Rhysand wouldn’t buy it.

“You need it, you overexerted your magic and your body has to heal itself from the inside. "He takes a deep drink and it is my turn to scrunch my eyebrows. I don’t remember much outside of the darkness that had swept in, but I had assumed that was Rhys and the light I had seen after that was the brightness of the sun in the Moonstone palace. He sees my confusion and sets down his glass and I follow suit, not all that hungry anymore.

“Magic can drive us insane if it does not have an outlet, like water building behind a dam. With you being made things are more complicated, it appears. "He pauses and I can see the gears turning as he tries to explain in a way Feyre would understand, like a mortal given a loaded gun of magic would understand, “ Usually when those like the high lord’s sons start presenting the type of magic ability that requires that release it is gradual, but you didn’t get that.” He looks away from me as he continues, studying the engravings against one of the pillars. “I had to manually flip that switch for you to release that power, but it seems there are multiple conflicting types of magic. The nature of your re-making is most likely linked to it, a piece of each court.”

I chew the inside of my lip, I hadn’t felt insane but every time I think back to what I could remember I was less of a person with the blade and more of an actor. In the time I had been awake and thinking over the actions I could remember, I had grown more and more repulsed over having lost control over myself. I swallowed thickly, “Ianthe?”

His lip pressed thin at her name, “Healing, and recovering from-” He pauses and I supply the word- you-“ events.” Well, I hadn’t really been hoping for a full recovery, I had meant everything I had said and done, though with a clearer head now I might have just beat her rather than mutilated her with seemingly no explanation. 

My throat is raw and scratchy with anxiety and the awkward tension that was thickening the open room, “So, I guess you did get to call on your end of the bargain, is there anything for me to do for the next two weeks of each month for the rest of my life?”

“Tomorrow.” He says gruffly, rising from his chair having eaten nearly nothing, “Nuala and Cerridwen can help you get acquainted to the Palace, if you need anything they can help and you can always send for me.” He waves a hand and the twin wraiths are there with warm smiles, more solid than I had ever seen them while under the mountain. With the wave a piece of paper like the one that had appeared in my room fluttered into my lap before he was gone and walking out of the veranda.

I smiled at the twins sweetly as I finished the barest parts of the breakfast, chugging down another cold glass of juice before rising and setting off to explore the palace.

The silk slippers that had come with my clothing weren’t the best walking shoes but they were so comfortable that I did not notice any pain as I peaked into rooms as I explored the halls, the twins only ever intervening to steer me away from rooms that were apparently off limits. I found a small armory, a room full of paintings, another of jewelry that spoke of a tiny immortals touch, and yet more rooms that were full and full of clothing.

There were so many things, wealth pouring from each corner of the glittering palace I was taken aback. The cottage had been rough, even I knew that, but I had never been exposed to this level of wealth even before I had come into this world. I found stock rooms deep in the palace, away from windows and damp with the cold moisture of the earth, filled with wine casks and bottles, all stacked and with names engraved on wax.

The twins did eventually force me back to the surface, away from catacombs I was sure led to the court of nightmares below us, and back to my room when I rolled my ankle on a missed step and nearly slid down half a flight of stairs. A spread of foods, mostly soups and vegetables with thick slices of sourdough bread, waiting for me with crisp crystal glasses of water I had to ask Nuala to replace with wooden ones, afraid of shattering them.

They left me to myself during lunch and until the evening, and I spent the hours looking over every inch of my room. The armoire was full of fine clothing, mostly the same style of sets like I was already wearing, but a few gowns and tunics were thrown in there with exceptionally sweaters I was more than happy to slip on. Drawers filled with underthings had my face flushing ever so slightly and I abandoned the clothes to snoop around the bathroom.

Perfumed salts and soaps were hidden behind cabinet doors, but I was quick to close those as I found the same soaps that already lined the edge of the pool. The simple and unscented clean of them had my head light for a moment before I found a hairbrush with some ribbons to tie back the long locks of brown. I brushed my fingers under the bottom of the hair once it was put in a braid, perhaps it would be simpler to cut it, get rid of one more reminder that despite what that voice had whispered in my head in those blissful moments of black I had stolen this body from someone else.

Dinner comes and passes with no word from Rhys, not even another small letter. And I spend the night trying to find a comfortable way to sleep in the massive bed before I give up on civility and wrap myself completely in the blankets, tangling in them until nothing but the barest peak of my head can be seen from them and I fall into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

No letter came in the morning, no wisps of shadow from Nuala or Cerridwen as I rotted in bed till noon and laid out another of those 2 piece sets, a deep crimson this time. A bath of lavender and citrus suds pruned my skin as I avoided leaving the little bubble of familiarity I had formed in the short day. I was forces to leave my little shelter as my stomach growled and roiled with such ferocity I could no longer ignore it with cups of water. I slipped on the pair of matching slippers as I slid down the hallways, hugging close to the walls as they turned. I got lost more than once, finding the kitchens after an hour, stocked with fresh fruits, vegetables, cheese, and fresh bread that I ate from as I contemplated calling out for one of the twins to guide me to wherever the Library seems to be hidden in this palace. 

I had eaten so many small cubes of pineapple that my tongue started tingling when I heard the echoing of voices coming from above me, leaching down the servant stairs that ran up next to the kitchen.  The words were distorted from where they ricochet from the walls but I knew the tone of Rhys, and a feminine one that spurred me into movement as I snuck around the corner and up the spiraling stairs till the words cleared. I was at the same landing as the dining room I had eaten in with Rhys, and I used my minimal confidence around the space to creep from the stairwell and nearer to the heavy doors that held themselves ajar. 

“-remain compliant forever. You have been given chance and chance again but you refuse to- No. No! Rhysand, I am not here to see you sulk, talk to them. If you are confused over this, imagine how they feel, they haven’t even met this girl. I am not going to stay around if you insist on ignoring me.” The words had cleared enough for me to distinguish as I heard a flurry of fabric and Mor was walking out of the room. She was undeniably Rhysand’s cousin as her eyes fell to me with an acuity that had the blood that pounded in my ears still. It was only a moment of those sharp eyes, eyes of a mountain cat sizing up its prey, before her face softened and a young woman was coming towards me.

“Oh, Hello!” She said with so much chipperness that I was reeling from the tone shift between what I had heard before.Rhysand came up behind her, leaning on the door frame as he picked lint from his tunic, watching as his cousin took my hand in hers. Mor’s hands were warm, or maybe mine were cold, and she squeezed them ever so slightly as I looked to Rhys for any guidance. I only just saw his eyes shine and the creases of his eyes form before Mor moved and broke my eye contact with him. 

“My dear cousin has told me so much about you! I am just so glad to have some actual company around, you would not believe how dreadfully boring things get.” She said as she unclasped my hands and tucked a piece of golden hair behind her ear before she whispered too loudly for it not to be intentional, “Especially when certain people seem to never appreciate good company.”

I  just saw the movement of his hair as he shook his head and moved toward us, speaking as he did so, “Feyre, this is my cousin Morrigan, who was just on her way out.” He strained his voice just slightly on the last part and I saw them exchange a look, each challenging the other before Mor spoke yet again.

“I was , but now that I can see that our dear Feyre is here I think we have some matters to discuss concerning her stay with us.” She was still holding his gaze as I backed up just slightly from the tension forming.

“No, that can wait for another day. I am sure she is still exhausted.” Rhysand said back before looking to me, but I want to move, I need to quell the itching that was working its way back under my skin.

“I’m fine!” I say it just a bit too loudly before I soften my voice to try again “I’m fine, really, I would like to get my feet on the ground for once, know that I get to choose.” 

The two of them exchanged another look before Mor’s grin grew wider and her hands clasped mine again and ushered me back towards the room they had just come out of. The coffee table me and Rhysand had eaten at yesterday has been replaced by a proper dining table. I sat in the chair closest to the door while the cousins found places across from me, allowing me to look at Mor closer for a moment. Her eyes that had seemed predatory had formed soft brown pools as she smiled, and radiance seemed to emanate from her pores along with a soft scent of cinnamon undercutting the citrus smell the family seemed to share. She moved with such grace it was undeniable that she was Rhysand’s relative, the dawn to his midnight with her hair such a bright honey color.

“I had been having a conversation with Mor here about starting training some control into that magic of yours, as she had some similar issues with control when she first came of age.” He isn't looking at me as he speaks, instead inspecting the wood carving of his arm rest before Mor kicks him under the table and he is shooting a glare at her. Tea appears in front of us with a soft clatter and I let the cup steam in front of me as Mor picks up her cup.

“I-” She punctuates with a flourishing hand to her chest, “ am more familiar with touchy magic, the type that doesn’t have a distinct form. Comes with the territory of having such an abstract power and all.” She smiles sweetly at me over the rim as she drinks her tea with a soft sip. “It will be fun, my dear, see what power you can hold. It all comes in waves, and right now you wiped out-”

“ That is enough Mor,” Rhys interrupts, “I do have other matters to discuss with our darling Feyre, so I trust you will return to your duties.” He gave a poignant stare and she raised a hand in surrender as she set down her tea. I looked at him like a deer in the headlights as she stood and brushed crumbs that could not have possibly accumulated on her dress.

“It seems my stay seems to be running short, but if you need anything, and I mean anything at all dear, just call for me and I’ll be here. No matter what the old grump here thinks.” She finished with a wink before walking out of the room, going to descend some staircase that must lead to the city below us, the court of Nightmares.

It left the room tense as we heard her heels clack down the marble, and the dregs appetite that had driven me from my room died as I looked to Rhys. His hand massaged his temples as he exhaled heavily, leaning his weight onto the arm of his chair. He took the moment to himself before his eyes reopened to the world and steadily slid across the room till they found mine. The shadows at his back dissipated for a moment before condensing into the collar of his tunic. I looked under the table as I felt a cold slither around my ankle, a thin tendril of shadow resting there before I returned to look at Rhysand. 

“Apologies, Feyre darling. I only wanted to discuss more private matters, something I do not belive you would want to share with more ears.” I felt my skin crawl, mind whirring with what I could have done before I felt dread weigh down my shoulders and drag them inwards. Iron settled in my stomach as my face heated and I took the cup of tea to hide behind its billowing steam. Still he continued with a snap of his fingers, the sound reverberating through the air before it drew back in on its self and formed a neat stack of familiar papers.

The pages didn’t seem so substantial when they had been in the drawer of the dresser, but in front of me it looked like a novella. A novella describing each and every way I was royally fucked. The tea rattled in my hand and spilled over the edge of the cup, the burn a distraction as I set the cup down with a clatter, swearing as I tried to wipe the heat from my hands. A soft wave of darkness came from across the table and took with it the spilt tea before the room brightened ever so slightly again. The coil of shadow from my ankle had slithered to my hand and was soothing over the red skin as I looked back to Rhysand with wide eyes.

The violet in his eyes no longer held warmth, but were evaluating each muscle pulled taught as I tried to come up with an explanation. The truth? Could I just tell him the truth? And sound like a loon. I wondered if Prythian had asylums for the briefest moment. This, this is what would finally kill me and I could hide away from my mistakes.

“Now, if you could explain how details of my court ended up in a mortal woman’s dressing drawer.” His voice was a harsh sneer and pushed the weight in my stomach further down. “And explain to me how these pages contain details of a war , unless you possessed divinity I need to understand where this information came from.” 

I wanted to flee, a doe in a snowy clearing, but more shadows had come to join the one cooling the burn that had already disappeared and locked me to the heavy wooden chair. My wrists were locked, my ankles tethered to the legs of the chair, and a black rope pulled my neck back against the carvings.

I swallowed thickly as I looked at him, the questions not rhetorical as he arched a brow at me. “I had dreams-” the shadows at my wrist tightened to border pain and my mind whited with panic as I grabbed the quickest words, “I did! Dreams, visions, whatever you want to call it. It just felt right to write it down.” I gasped as the shadows against my neck tightened and breathing became much more of an effort. I felt night tipped claws tracing along my mental shield, jolting back when it felt hard surface. I shivered as I thanked the years for keeping the shield up, that it had not fallen with my complacency.  

“Then why tell me to look for them?” A rasp entered his voice and I looked to see his eyes again. Anger, pain, fear , all looked back at me in eddies of stars, the vision of it clogging my heart in my throat.

“I don’t know- I-” Tears pricked at my eyes, an easy call of pressure and heat behind eyelids, “I wanted to help, it felt right to tell you and I just-” My words were starting to fall short, quick witted lies scraping the bottom of the barrel as I tried to breath. Think, think, act. “ I wanted to be remembered, I wanted someone to read what I had to say.”

My eyes burned with the forced tears as I looked at him, hoping the heat in my face looked enough like remorse and the tears held just right to glitter in innocence. I reminded myself that this was a man protecting his family, who had just come from 49 years of servitude, who was afraid of war lurking at the gates of his lands. I was a threat to him, to his tentative peace, and though m

There was silence, ear shattering and hearth retching silence, for a long while. Enough for the binds at my neck and wrist to dissolve with little acknowledgment beside me rubbing at the light bruising that had started to form. Still my ankles were secured to the chair and would not budge. 

“There are a dozen women who owe their lives to you.” He said it lowly while pulling a sheet from the pile and sliding it across to rest straight in front of me. “And no doubt countless more if the rest of what you say is true.” The edges of the paper were curling up, obviously having been read over multiple times and a small spattering of water stains at the top of the page. My words swam on the page as I read them over again, and again. The temples along the coast, looted and slaughtered. It had been in pursuit of the Cauldron’s feet, but surely it hadn’t started this early in the story? There had been weeks, an additional month at least, before the vaguest mention I could remember.

I looked back up to him, the wings he kept hidden peaking over the back of his shoulders. He straightened in his chair and leaned forward until he was looking down at my writing. 

“I am thankful-beyond thankful that you gave me this information.” He paused to take a rattling breath that whisked his wings back to whatever void they came from. “But I hope you can understand my apprehension that a mortal could possess these plans, and to know that such detail about my court was simply left in a bedroom of a rotting cottage.”

My ankles fell from the chair legs as the shadows dissipated, though some stayed and soothed the skin as I rubbed a satin slipped shoe against it. There was still the panic running through my blood, pushing against my ear drums as I look toward him. The weight in my stomach took a different nature as I saw the weight of his lands pressing down on those proud shoulders. I had never seen them slouch, but now he seemed to wilt in on himself, fingers tracing along the edge of the pile of papers.

A spark of indignation burned on my tongue at his insult of my home but I kept my mouth shut. My heart was still slamming against my sternum, the power to restrain me not soon to be forgotten. It had scared me, scared me beyond anything to be reminded of the power Rhysand kept. I was stupid, a faith that I was to remain in that warm blanket of death or to wake in my world had come to bite me in the ass. I couldn’t speak, could even raise the words to yell or apologize, mouth filled with cotton. My blood turned rancid in my veins and I wanted to shed the skin, shed it all and be free and I couldn’t stay in this room.

The chair screeched against the floor as I stood, bones feeling like they were splintering under the weight of my thoughts as I walked out of the room. He said no words to me as I left, not as I slammed the doors to the dining room shut with a wayward arm. I walked the stairs, each step a time for me to exhale and inhale. I was not built for this, I had been resilient enough and now-- now I was lost and screwed and afraid . The word bubbled up on my tongue with a ratcheting breath that shook me. 

I was so close to my room, the door only down the hall, and I refused to break in this hallway, to shatter along the stone floors. I swallowed thickly and clenched my teeth against the cries that wanted to escape. No, no, I was going to make it, I had my hand on the door and I was pushing and it was opening. I was stepping inside, I was closing the door and- my legs collapsed under me as my lungs heaved a gasp and I was a vase shattering against the soft rug.

I was exhausted, deeper than bone exhaustion and the sobs washed away the cold that sat with me, warmed and boiled my rotting flesh from a body that wasn’t mine and that I should have left to join back into the soil under that mountain. I wanted to turn to a wind, disappear on the beats of song bird wings but I was trapped and I was heavy and I could not raise my head enough to look at those silver-blue skies that peered in from the windows. But my body moved of its own accord, a frightened mouse crawling to the corner of a room, pulling a chair in front of them like a child playing hide and seek. I sobbed there, sobbed as I was afraid and devastated and too much, it was too much and I wanted to collapse forever, to be broken and never fixed.

My voice tingled in my head, a tone telling me that this solves nothing and that I need to wrap it up, wrap up the sharp pieces of myself that broke and I don’t know how to fix. To see that Rhysand would never really hurt me, to know he knew I wasn’t a threat, but he had hurt me and I was pulled into memories of cold cells and cold slop when I couldn’t move, when those shadows that had danced in corners of wet stone tied me down to chair limbs, when I was waiting for my neck to be snapped again. My sobs paused, mind pausing its torrent unnaturally as I held my breath and my limbs shook. I had been waiting to die again, to die and be swept away from my troubles because who wouldn’t kill a mortal woman with immortal knowledge. The sobs returned a moment later as I tried to rationalize, to see any reason I was always allowed to live, why I couldn’t have been a soul to be trailed along on either and instead thrown here and forced to keep living here.

I don’t know how long I cried, the room growing dark as the sun ran to the next horizon and my energy trickled off, trickled until my stream ran dry and I fell to unconsciousness with my knees drawn to my chest and back pressed against the wall.