( Arc: Mist & Fury. - Tumblr Posts

he finds himself lost in the night sky, stars twinkling above the city surrounded by swirls of indigo. it's a view he still appreciates, savors every second that he can, a reminder that all of his sacrifices were worth it. despite the nightmares, despite the guilt that plagues every waking thought ... this has remained untouched. & even after this war, when he is inevitably gone, as long as he's managed to keep velaris standing & his family is safe, it'll be worth it too. it's what lead him here, arms folded over the ledge, away from bustling table that holds his bantering court, now just a mumble to him. he should be cherishing these moments while he still can, but sitting there with them is just a reminder that it's fleeting. he knows what the outcome of this war will be when it comes, that he will die to keep them alive. & then there's her — feyre, fitting in as if she were here hundreds of years all along, as rhysand knew she would. he has to keep reminding himself that she isn't his to keep. once this is over, she will return to the spring court ... & after everything he has put her through, the monster he had to become, he knows that he doesn't deserve her, anyways.

yet here she is, comforting him with words that are exactly what she should hear. doesn't she know yet — all he's ever been looking for is her? rhysand spins around to face her, back leaning against stone as hands slide into pockets, solemn expression traded for a small smile. " i believe i'm too far gone, feyre darling. " he knows that everything he's ever longed for stands right before him, bathed in starlight, unattainable. but she still has a chance, to walk away from this war & get everything she's desired, even if she feels unworthy of it. the nightmares she's been having, the two fae that haunt her: he's seen it all. his voice is just a murmur, a reminder that she is more than that. " but perhaps you should listen to your own words. you did what you had to ... you owe it to yourself to be happy. as hard as that may be. "

@rhysie said: ❝  there is good in the world.  i know there is.  i just don’t think i get to have it in my life.  ❞ (x)

he looked off into the distance as if he wasn’t quiet here, as if he had forgotten i stood quietly behind, watching him. practically stripped bare, as he admired the stars, a longing in his eyes that resonated somewhere deep within me. i had already seen so many different sides of him — the cruel, sadistic high lord that had schemed his way out from under the mountain. the unlikely ally that had fought for me until my dying breath. the jovial comrade who’s simple pleasures included sharing fine wine with his friends. but this version was different and new to me — so unbearably honest. a pained man who had felt the crushing weight of the world on his shoulders for over 500 years. a man torn apart by loss and grief, just as i had been. he was beautiful and tender and tragic — and it took my breath away. a fine mosaic of different shards of glass, some sharper than others, all came together to create a masterpiece. i was almost afraid to speak, as if my words could will it away. my voice soft, gentle even — not to be mistaken for pity, but a simple understanding, “ everyone deserves to find what they’re looking for, rhys. whatever that might be. even you. ”

“ the problem with this criminal thing , is it’s kinda fun . " ━ @temptsdeath ( cassian )

violet gaze rolls, rhysand rubbing at his temples. corresponding to the summer court has not been ideal, the damage his brother has caused to their beloved building earning nothing but a headache. " is that so? well, i'm glad you had fun. " he wears the crown of high lord in this moment, words sharp, lacking any amusement ( though if he knows any better, they'll be laughing this over at a tavern in a week or two. ) this is his least favorite part, as rare as it is: scolding his family for mistakes he himself would probably make. " do me a favor & don't make a habit of it. " hands fall at the paper work that lays upon his desk, gesturing at the great stack. " i had to send the summer court a shipment of spices & enough gold to rebuild two buildings, to convince them not to send a blood ruby with your name on it. "

he watches as she contemplates it: happiness, now a foreign word to her, displayed in the way her features twist at even the thought. he knows exactly what she's thinking of, the spring court, her high lord ... how she threw herself into death, willingly, & in return was only deemed as a prisoner. it twists at his insides, rage bubbling up in what he tells himself is merely just rage at what they'd done to their champion & not jealousy. he hasn't fooled himself into thinking he could be the one to provide happiness for her, knows enough to know that would be a long shot — but he had hope that maybe this place, his court, would be enough for her be able to vision it at least. the confirmation seers more than he imagined it would. " you'll find it again. " rhysand mutters with confidence, he knows it's true, even if it's not here.

an inhale, his gaze dropping feyre's as she walks towards him, her scent disappointingly intoxicating. he doesn't allow himself to enjoy it, can't help the way his face falls with her words. for so long, he was trapped under that damned mountain ... does he have a place in this world? would anyone forgive him after what he's had to do? what he will do, to ensure they win this? " i'm not sure that i do anymore. " he's lost all of his armor, his protective mask, & rips himself open for her to tear apart if she wanted to. but instead she's holding onto his hand, saying exactly the right things, & he can't help the longing that's burning into his gaze, at their hands. " i was hopeful to get out, determined to save velaris, my family — but even after all of that, at best i'm known as a monster. worse, i'm just known as her whore. " as much as his brain is screaming at him to so much as intertwine their fingers, he hesitates. terrified of scaring her away, afraid of the rejection. " now we have this war, which i will do everything in my power to win. but after that, if i survive ... what else is there? " there's no answer that would be enough, he knows, if it's not her.

" happy? " i breathe, as if it were a foreign word on my tongue. i had never been granted the luxury of prevailing contentment, nor had i ever been foolish enough to expect it. there had only been a handful of fleeting, blissful moments, all of them brutally ripped away. some days, i wondered if they had ever been real to begin with. the safety and comfort of the spring court had seemed so exceptional and delicate -- i had even been willing to die for it. to kill for it. and what exactly did i have to show for it now? a broken heart trapped in an immortal body -- navigating a world that still didn't make sense to me. perhaps, that was all it had ever been meant to be. mere glimpses into possibilities i had never before dared to desire. i stared down at my hands, the eye on my palm boring into my soul. " i'm not sure i know what that means for me anymore. " finally, i looked up, gaze drifting off into the distance, an image of refined acceptance. " i thought i did. but now it's not so. . . clear. "

as i glanced back towards rhysand, it occurred to me that those frivolous and cursory moments of merriment were hardly as significant as the genuine sincerity and support he shared with me now. to peer into one's soul and not run away. to stare into one's eyes, and behold your own reflection gazing back. in his own ways, rhys had seen me through my worst, always giving me the grace to be myself. how wrong i had been to judge him so quickly, when he had offered so much of himself to me -- to his people. sacrifices made without ever once expecting any recognition. i had begun to wonder if there was any part of himself he wasn't willing to give up. " why do you speak of the world as if you don't have a place in it? " i took a few, small and purposeful steps towards him. as if each one represented an inconceivable choice -- with each move forward, i knew i was leaving something behind. but for once, i had the faintest feeling that it was possible that i was headed towards something greater. " i know the hope you have. the determination. i saw it under the mountain. i feel it now. and yet you count yourself out. " now just inches between us, i slowly took his hand, my thumb grazing his knuckle, eyes wide and serious as they bore into his. " well, don't. don't do that. i don't think you're ' too far gone ', rhysand. and you wouldn't dare make me for a fool. "

i don't think that you're a monster. rhysand pretends like the confession doesn't make his throat feel like it's closing in on him, a shared acknowledgment that she doesn't hold everything under the mountain — what he had to do — against him. " thank you. " he'd never cared what anyone thought of him, had come to accept that he'd never be accepted for his actions, was at peace knowing everything he'd done, was to protect the one city of peace left ... until she arrived. HIS MATE. suddenly, every bad thing he's ever done, his reputation, haunted him, cementing the fact that she'd never accept the bond. but now there is a moment of overwhelming relief & comfort washing over him, swallowing down the urge to confess everything right here & now. maybe she wouldn't be disgusted by figuring out he's her mate, there would be a clearer understanding between them, she would be happy.

but as feyre continues to speak, her words wash away any of those urges, just missing the one piece of the puzzle that would get him to throw caution to the wind & just do it: i need you. rhysand doesn't allow his face to fall, reminds himself that it's for the best — after everything she had been through with tamlin, the bond was for her to figure out & decide. he won't take that away from her. " alright. i like that idea. " he manages a small smile, eyes flickering to their hands once more, before holding her gaze, seemingly gaining his confidence back. " and have you decided what starting over looks like for you yet, feyre darling? "

what else was there? it was an impossible question i had asked myself hundreds of times, as i stared into the precipice of oblivion. i had known death before i ever had the chance to live. a second chance and i had still done so little with it. a truth so cruel and tragic, and yet iit was only recently i had it in me to care. it was only here in velaris — a city of dreams and desire, art and aspirations, that i had finally felt truly alive. there is good in the world, he had said and so much of it was here. “ i don’t think that you’re a monster, ” i admitted aloud for the first time. he and his friends were the defenders of a sacred promise -- the embodiment of that love. that vision. and for once, i finally understood the resolute need to protect its existence. to have something so rare and untouched that no one could take from you. something worth dying for.

that’s when i catch it — his deepest and most horrifying confession. he had no intention of surviving this war. an obstinate martyr who had accepted his fate long ago. for a moment, it threatened to bring me to my knees — i tell myself it’s only because of the tentative alliance we had forged that had just begun to verge on friendship. i wouldn’t be the one to save him, i had no right to mourn him before he was even gone as if he he was mine. he belonged to his people and to his friends, and they had already endured the loss of him once. but how could i explain to him that he had entwined himself into my whole world? that my new vision of the future was the one he had painted for me? full of stars and hope and wishes and promise. a dream predicated on his ambition and faith. i stared down at our hands, practically transfixed, before i swallowed the lump that had developed in my throat. “ you have so much. your life. this city — your family. they need you. ” i need you. perhaps that’s all any of us could hope for — to be needed, to be wanted, to be seen. “ maybe we both have to accept that things will never be the same, so we can finally start over. ”

he takes no pride in his methods, claws caressing every inch of her shield until it bends under his control, violating her every thought to echo his voice in her mind. come on, feyre. if you want me out so badly, shut me out. he doesn't relent with her outburst, even as it takes him right back to under the mountain, to that dungeon: the monster she viewed him as still lurking ... he keeps his composure calculated, no matter how much his heart races, reminding himself that this is as much for her own safety as it is for the safety of prythian. i am helping. you pushed back. a note appears on her desk without any effort, rhysand not bothering to look up from his own paperwork that sits before him. ( it simply reads: that face of yours is too delicious to be pouting like that. ) shield, now.

@rhysie said: ❝  you have a very messy brain.  ❞ (x)

“ GET OUT! ” finally snapping, my pitiful excuse for mental shields slammed shut as quick as they could, a shriek ripping from my throat. “ STAY OUT! ” my brow furrowed and head aching, my hands clawed at my face as if i could possibly tear out the violating grasp he had on my mind. frustration and fatigue wore at me, as i slumped down in my seat. energy depleted, all of the letters had begun to blur together long ago, his aggravating and intruding voice continuing to overpower my every thought. the glaring inadequacies of my own abilities and discipline so terribly discouraging and humiliating. face still buried in my hands, i leaned against the desk, with a hiss, “ you’re not helping. ”

her mind paints an amusing vision: feyre slamming his head against the desk in front of him, the signal he needed to show that she hasn't been broken completely, regardless of what her thoughts seem to tell her. she is still alive, with that same spark, challenging him at every moment. it earns laughter, trickling into her mind until she forces him out with such promising power. " not bad. " his voice, his claws & shadows instantly retreat, not daring to push at the fence that shields her now. she deserves a break for that.

he doesn't show the impact her accusation has on him, that same bored smirk resting onto features, controlling the guilt until his brain pushes out the thoughts of the minds he's been forced to invade: helpless, unsuspecting fae, giving all their deepest thoughts until there was nothing left but a wiped mind. he always put on a good show for her, even if he never let any of them suffer. it still wasn't enough.

paperwork gets tosses to the side, sliding across his desk, before his hands fold onto the surface. a brow quirks, head tilting, rhysand humming before retorting, " well, would you rather i show you flower arrangements instead? " he offers her a saccharine smile, his shoulders raising. " we can go over dresses, or proper table etiquette ... since it seems you are much more content with being a pet. "

through the crippling disorientation, i managed to still make out enough of the words on his note to deepen my scowl even further. his voice echoing inside my mind made my skin crawl — as did the humbling realization of my decrepit helplessness. how easily he had been able to slip in past my lousy defenses — one quick move, and what remained of myself could be crushed entirely. had my mind always been so feeble? or had the last few months truly broken me so far beyond the realm of my own comprehension? it was that overwhelming sense of self loathing and resentment towards my own uselessness that kept me from shriveling up entirely. fully aware he was observing my every thought — for just a moment, i loudly imagined how satisfying it would have been to ram his head against the desk. that spite continued to hold me up, giving me something tangible to hold onto as the walls of my mind kept breaking down. the darkness in my head swarmed, as i struggled to scramble through it. with a deep inhale, my eyes shut and trembling hands gripping the arms of my chair, i gathered the last bit of energy i had left in my dwindling reserves. and with an exasperated gasp, i finally forced him out — armoring my mind with sharp, mountainous walls. “ absolute prick, ” i panted, practically out of breath. “ you enjoy this, don’t you? toying with people’s minds? ”

the nightmare paints itself out across their bond, the panic & looming death loud enough to keep him awake. it's almost routine at this point, when his own dreams aren't engulfing him in terror — the clear crack of feyre's neck, the light fleeting from her eyes, the hopeless grief that consumed him — it's hers, leaving him tossing in his bed, wide awake until the birds start singing outside his window. only, this time, he can actually do something about it. he doesn't even bother to think it through, throwing on only pants, before he's crossing the threshold of feyre's bedroom.

star filled darkness surrounds them, his voice light, all attempts at bringing comfort to her. he holds her hair back as she empties out her stomach, waits it out until she seems to have steadied herself, before offering to leave. rhysand knows his face is the last she'd wish to see in this moment, doesn't allow him to fool himself otherwise — but before he can even finish it, the thought is quickly shut down. he hides the surprise in his face, offering a small nod, cementing that he won't be going anywhere.

his hand finds the one on his wrist, lifting it to his cheek, grounding her. " i'm here. " he ignores how his chest tightens, how his breathing changes, voicing the words into her palm. " you're safe ... " he doesn't know if he's saying that to remind her, or himself. " you're safe. i won't let anything like that happen to you again. "

@rhysie said: if you want me to go ,  i will .  do you want me to leave ? (x)

i don't look up, my eyes glazed over as if i were still somewhere else. the cool, night breeze drifting through the open window was the only real confirmation i had that i was no longer encaged under the mountain. this time, the walls of my tiny cell were quickly closing in, adorned with the same sharp, spinning blades that had almost killed me during my second trial. i still couldn't read and i still couldn't pick the right lever, and my death was approaching faster than ever. it was easier to just give up, accept what i deserved. a part of my soul was resigned to my fate -- looked forward to it even, as the metal of the blades reflected the hideous monster i had become. agonizing reprieve was finally here, just inches away, when strong hands had jolted me awake. rhys's calm voice was all that steadied me as i panted and i retched.

once i was back sitting on the bed, my body curled into itself -- my arms wrapped around my legs, as if i were in danger of fully falling apart. afraid of what could happen if i were suddenly alone. before i knew what i was doing, my shaky hand reached out to grasp his wrist with surprising firmness. i shook my head, my voice low and hoarse, barely a whisper -- almost worried amarantha was just around the corner and could hear. " i don't want to be alone. " i don't let go, as i shut my eyes, remembering the nightmare, my features twisted with torment. " it felt so real. " in many ways, it had been.

he takes her in — letting whatever tension, teasing or otherwise, to completely drop, showing her as much vulnerability in this moment as she's revealing to him. an attempt to make up for all of the times he'd felt her go through just this at the spring court, awaken by the terrors that linger from under the mountain, not alone & yet, completely neglected. every inch of him screamed at him to help her, ignore the space he'd sworn himself to give her, do something.

he allows himself to give into those urges tonight, pitying those that never even thought to show her an ounce of tenderness — an indication they'd never deserved her at all. he slides her hand to his lips, a chaste kiss pressed to her palm, before interlacing their fingers. he wonders if she can feel it in moments like this, the other unspoken bond, like he can ... if she can feel the intensity of his love for her, shown in every glance, every touch. enough to drive him mad.

rhysand takes the spot she's made for him, hesitating before sliding an around her. he swallows any fear of rejection, damning boundaries for just this moment. her confession is evidence enough that she still doesn't realize, she helped him more than he could ever her. & he'll spend the rest of his life showing her, if he has to. " i would have died under there, if it weren't for you. all of us would have. " feyre, the cursebreaker. he speaks with a solemn smile, tucking her crown under his chin. " we make quite the team, hm? "

his mere presence soothed me, with his cool hands and gentle touch. the scornful disdain and shallow pretenses we had once hid behind faded away into the darkness, until all that was left was our shared agony. i knew then that he had seen what i had seen — felt my fear as if it was his own. we were haunted by the same ghosts, in a cycle of endless torment. i saw it in his eyes — he understood, like no one else ever could. he too had suffered in a way no one could possibly imagine.

the tension in my body began to dissolve, my fingers tingling as they cupped his cheek — suddenly aware of his bare torso. his large hand was steady and brought me back down to earth — his grasp both tender and assured. he's here. i'm safe. the words churned over and over, until i absorbed them entirely. i swallowed the last lump in my throat and nodded. if my throat wasn't dry, i would have choked out a sob. no one had ever looked after me as he had tonight — stroking my back softly and holding my hair out of the way while grief and terror wracked through my body. helping me back to bed once i had finally stopped shaking.

i shifted slightly in the bed, scooting over and inviting him to sit. for once i believed him as he promised to not let anything happen to me again. as i felt the conviction deep within him, i pitied anyone who dared to come between me and his armored resolve. he had been the one to see me through the worst of my trials, just as he did now — holding my hand and guiding me through the darkness. “ i couldn’t have made it out without you. ”

all of this preparation, tedious meetings & grueling training, for an impending war, had started to take it's toll. clearing his head seemed an impossible task — even with feyre at his side, his only source of comfort these days, it only serves as a reminder of the great loss they're sure to suffer. with every step among red stone, every glance from the surrounding fae, he's brought back to the danger that threatened this city not that long ago. it surely won't be the last, a promise he can't yet bring himself to swallow. against any better judgment, he'd decide to savor velaris as much as time allowed, turning a stroll along the sidra to an undeclared night off.

he's surprised at how easy it is: to fall into a level of normalcy with her, shedding away the weight of prythian for just tonight, traded away for ale & melodies. he's frequented this tavern enough with the inner circle that the patrons hardly blink an eye his way — the usual crowd of females that fight for his attention smart enough to not dare it tonight. her words earns a crooked smirk, a taste of what life could be like after all of this is over, that leaves him feeling hopeful. " feyre darling, with how rosey your cheeks already are, you'll be regretting this in the morning. " still, he bites, finishing off his ale in response before waving down another round. he leans back in his chair with unfitting casualness for a high lord, tongue clicking. " you've been around cassian too much. "

@rhysie said: card of coins. sender buys the receiver a drink at a tavern.

velaris came alive at night -- the streets roaring with bustling merriment. i'd never experienced anything like it; so much infectious joy in one place. you would never know a war was looming just beyond the horizon. it didn't take much for rhys to convince me to walk back along the river with him -- the bright lights and fresh air renewing something long forgotten within me. for the first time in a long time, i felt lighter -- as if some heavy weight had been lifted. i even allowed him to lead me into a small tavern, surprised by the ease and normalcy in which he entered the establishment. aside from a few curious glances thrown our way, the lingering patrons seemed to know to stay out of our way. if i didn't know any better, i could have forgotten i was joined by the most powerful high lord in existence.

i was barely finished with my second mug of ale, when i started to feel my cheeks burn with the gratifying rush of alcohol to my head. the room started floating in a delightful way, as the faelights burned brighter and nearby chatter blended together. my fingers tingled and my posture eased, as i momentarily lost any lingering inhibitions. without even realizing, i had even began to hum softly along to the music. more. i wanted more. i quickly downed the next drink that appeared in front of me, slamming it down against the table, eyes twinkling with the prospect of a challenge, " afraid you can't keep up? "

posture straightens at her remark, suddenly full of that grace he seemed to lack seconds ago. head tilts with amusement that masks jealousy, yet it's not enough to hide how his eyes darken, brow quirking as he leans in. feline gaze locks into her, hovering over feyre's features with an intensity that doesn't quite match mischievousness of his voice. " and yet, " he purrs into his glass, " you are here with me — looking more alive than i have seen you in a while. " an innocent grin follows, taking a swig of the ale. " interesting. "

his gaze briefly strays to follow hers, turning to the females she'd focused in on. he only offers them a polite, albeit charming, smile, nodding before turning his attention back to feyre. ever since she started plaguing his dreams ... waking up with her scent in his nose, haunted by a human woman he didn't even know, any interest in another female had quickly died. any pursuit anyone tried, now ended in him quickly dismissing them. surely, feyre had to have taken notice by now — or maybe she doesn't care. he tests her, setting down his glass to lean on folded hands. " do they have reason to be? "

i scoffed dismissively, waving off his warning — though the more logical part of my brain, that was becoming quieter and quieter with every second, knew he was right. while i didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of verbally heeding his advice, i did admittedly savor this new drink more than the last. it was surprising how much i had come to genuinely enjoy rhys’s company — rather it was just innocuous banter or a quiet, private moment in the dead of night, his presence simultaneously quelled and sparked something within me. my arms crossed as i leaned forward across the table, tilting my head to the side, amusement flickering in my eyes. “ because he’s more fun than you. ”

i studied his perfect features with a new, unfiltered clarity — the sharp edges of his face, carefully framed by tousled tendrils of dark hair, and the way his violet eyes seemed to burn brighter in the dimly lit tavern. i resisted the urge to reach out and trace the line of his nose. for once, the ease in which he carried himself didn’t seem calculated. over his shoulder, i spotted two females whispering in the corner as they stared at us. a brow raised, while my eyes narrowed slightly, before turning my gaze back to him. i took another long sip, “ jealous? ”

he knew sleeping would be a daunting task, behind heavy eyelids there's only growing concern. the odds seem to stack against them with each passing day, the list of threats grows & shrinks what sliver of hope they had to come out on top. it's all loud enough to keep him awake, tossing until he can no longer take it. even if he knows feyre will find sleep just as troubling — maybe their shared company is all they need in this moment.

he finds her against the tree, & is instantly reminded of the woman that filled his dreams for years. the small glimpses of her life that he savored every second of: how the forest looked through her eyes, how she stared at the stars through the trees ... the only reminder of what true peace looked like. ( even now, she still seems to be that anchor for him. ) he's careful to not sneak up on her as he approaches, quietly sitting next to her. " thank you for sparing me, as much as i know you'd find enjoyment in that. " wings folding over to shield them from the bite of the wind, his neck cranes to look at the night sky, the stars flickering in his gaze. " am i interrupting? "

@rhysie said: card of stars. sender keeps the receiver company during first watch at camp.

we had set up camp somewhere in the forest along the base of the illyrian mountains. both flying and winnowing could have alerted too much attention, and walking at this point was simply out of the question. there were still no leads on where the ash arrows were coming from — only the daunting confirmation that the night court borders had indeed been breached. our list of enemies seemed to grow every day — hybern, tamlin, and even tarquin now. i still couldn’t shake the guilt that suggested so much of this had been my fault. at the very least, tensions with the spring court could’ve been avoided.

naturally i had volunteered to take the first watch, knowing it’d be impossible for me to sleep in these conditions. wrapped in a thick blanket, i leaned back against a tree, staring up at the stars and enjoying the soft stillness. reminiscing on how many nights i had spent just like this, waiting for an unsuspecting fox or rabbit to cross my path. but tonight it was only rhys’s tall, shadowy figure that eventually plopped down beside me. “ you’re lucky i didn’t just burn your face off, ” i teased, without looking up. my words were clearly untrue, as i hadn’t even so much as flinched. i had familiarized myself with his quiet, intentional footsteps and heard them well before i saw him. i knew he easily could’ve snuck up on me if he wanted, but he always seemed to make it a point to alert me of his presence. my tone remained light, “ even if just for some peace and quiet. ”

rhysand takes notice of where feyre's gaze lingers, the way her cheeks flush as soon as she realizes just how long she's been staring at his lips. he tells himself it's all in his head, this isn't the time for any of this. there is a war just ahead of them, yet all he can focus on is her. but after their shared time together at the summer court, there has been a shift between them — their bickering had turned into flirtation, the constant back & forth was enough to drive him mad. the only thing stopping him from closing the distance between them with reckless abandon, is that he can't figure out what exactly it is that she wants. to her, it seems as though he's just a distraction. and while he'd rather be that for her than nothing — to him, she is everything.

her reaction is enough for him to want to roll his eyes, though he refrains, catching a glimpse of the jealousy that is covered by a flimsy facade. she can't be oblivious to the fact he's turned down every fae that has approached him, how he's left here alone every night he's gone out with the rest of the inner circle. " do as you wish. i have no interest in them. " truthfully, he's already forgotten their faces, his brain consumed by feyre as soon as she leans in. he freezes, as though any sudden movement will scare her away, his breath stilling under her touch. her scent is more intoxicating than anything he could drink, savoring each second of the contact. it's his turn now, for his eyes to flicker straight to her lips, biting down every urge that is currently screaming at him. " i'm not so sure i deserve better. " his gaze returns to meet hers, losing his usual smirk, features becoming something more soft — this solemn vulnerability reserved for only her.

i thanked the gods i was sitting down and there was still a table between us — already dizzy from the ale, his proximity alone could have forced my knees to buckle. the intensity in his eyes set me ablaze, almost melting under his predacious gaze. i struggled to retain my train of thought — all attention on the way his lips curved upwards, and the markings on his chest and throat that peeked through his partially unbuttoned tunic, revealing the perfect contours of his lean muscles. the bastard was incapable of not showing off. it would have been so easy to lean forward and brush my lips against his. . . but i quickly drowned that thought out as fast as i could. i didn’t dare give him the satisfaction of knowing there was no one else i’d rather be with.

it was incredibly fortunate that i could still blame my flushed cheeks on the alcohol, rather than my abashed mortification. my face fell as i watched him smile at the females, frowning at the back of his head, and rolling my eyes at their fluttering eyelashes and excited squeals. the sudden urge to vomit had very little to do with the ale. i’d seen the way he was fawned over, both by courtiers under the mountain and in the summer court — i could hardly imagine how much havoc he had wreaked throughout his own court. the way he seemed to revel in it — how much of it was just a mask? i tried to look as indifferent as possible when he turned back, busying myself with the rest of my drink. “ i’d hate to stand between you and your admirers. ” a casual shrug as i took a sip, only to lose the battle with myself almost immediately. against all my better judgment and self-control, i leaned forward and began playing with a tendril of his hair — fixating on it as my thumb ran over the silky texture, before tucking it softly behind his ear. beautiful. “ though i do think you could do better. ”

her cheek rests against his flesh, & rhysand can feel his breath catch in his throat, before returning to a slow rhythm, as if one raise of his chest will send her off running. he can't think of their time under the mountain without remembering all of the awful things he'd done. the longer they linger on the subject, the more he tenses, expecting her to be reminded of every vile insult he lashed her way — how terribly he treated her, the monster he had to become. it consumes him, his desire to take all of it back: all of the unthinkable things he had to do for amarantha, the memory of feyre in her cell, this bargain that has now become his lifeline. the pain he felt when it had been ripped from him eats him alive, his memory of it just as vivid & real as it was when it happened.

his jaw clenches as he focuses on their hands, bringing him back to this moment, now — where she doesn't see that vile creature in him, their bodies fitting together perfectly, everything he has ever wanted since he first saw her. he steadies her with a soft squeeze to her palm, yearning for the relief of telling her why he fought so hard. if she were going to die, he would always be right behind. " you're something worth fighting for. " he barely recognizes his own voice, a quiet confession pressed into her hair as his free hand mindlessly traces shapes onto her arm. " you aren't alone anymore, feyre. you won't ever be. " it's a promise he intends on keeping, even if she pushes him away — he would be there, waiting until she needed him again. " mor will guarantee that, i'm sure. "

something stirred within me, a deep yearning tugging at my chest and fluttering in my stomach, as his lips brushed against my palm. i could barely think about anything else as we locked hands -- some sacred and secret promise exchanged between them. all i knew was that i couldn't let go, and a deep and selfish part of me never wanted to.

i didn't resist as he pulled me against him, instead welcoming the comfort i had so desperately craved, but had all but given up on. he was so warm and sturdy, and for once, i felt a little less alone. i curled up against him with a familiar ease, as if i belonged there all along. my cheek pressed against his bare chest, i listened to the steady rhythm of his heart beat, letting it console me. still never letting go of his hand, my eyes shut softly, as i recalled another memory -- that last night under the mountain, when he called me to the balcony. his words still echoed in my mind -- i didn't want you to fight alone. or die alone. he'd been there, when no one else had -- fought for me until my last, dying breath, when no one else dared. screamed my name as if he couldn't bare the sight of me in pain. he had saved me from the first moment we met.

rhysand never dismissed my torment -- but he didn't look at me like i was completely broken either. my chest tightened as he reminded me that my sacrifice hadn't been entirely in vein. he had made it back here, to his friends and family — just like all the others had. all but two. a team . . . it occurred to me that i’d never really had anything quite like that before. i’d gone under the mountain alone, just as i had when i first went into the woods all those years ago. “ you fought for me. you kept trying to get back up. when you didn’t have to. ” my voice started to crack, my eyes softly brimmed with tears. “ when no one else would. ”

@volchtsa : ‘ sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, you just looked sad. ’ — amren

sad seems to be an understatement, with the high lord being multiple drinks in — alone, surrounded by a mist of shadows, eyes burning a hole into the paperwork that was neglected hours ago. it's become a nightly routine since returning from under the mountain, wrapping up his days of hunting rogue illyrian war bands with anything to take the edge off. they were gruesome confrontations over the fifty years they'd decided to push boundaries, that ended with blood being spilled more often than not. a waste of life, especially when they'd need as many bodies as they could round up for the festering war. what he'd thought would be a decent enough distraction from the upcoming wedding, ended up only adding onto his stress.

her words pull him from his thoughts, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. after so many years, isolating himself to deal with his problems on his own had become second nature — but in moments like this, he is reminded of what it is to have a friend again. his family. he straightens, waving a hand. " no need to apologize. don't tell me you've gone soft in my absence. " a glass appears before them, a gift from the house for amren, filled with blood. " i was just lost in thought, i suppose. "

the distance between them is excruciating — every touch, every shared glance, is temptation enough to forget all about his vow to leave their bond in her hands. her whisper is an invitation, providing the exact amount of bravery he needs, along with the alcohol, to finally throw caution to the wind & satiate the relentless longing. he tells himself that to have her just once, even if it's written off later as a drunken mistake, is all he needs. his eyes are locked onto hers, darkening with uncompromising will. lips part to speak, however she's already beating him to it, bringing him back down to earth.

he leans back, spine instantly straightening against the back of his chair, eyes flickering to the dart board behind her, adjusting to the sudden shift. he ignores how much it stings, & is reminded of their harsh reality: this is what she needs, after everything she's been through, a friend. nothing more. he scoffs, as he finishes off his drink, a smile slow to appear onto his lips, not quite meeting his eyes. brows raise, adjusting the collar of his shirt — unimpressed with her challenge. " what i heard from that, was that you want to get your ass kicked in darts. "

for a moment, i thought i may have forgotten how to breathe -- realizing that if he were to lean in and take advantage of the dim faelights and close proximity to brush his lips against mine, i would have let him. shame wracks through me at the thought, but not enough to discourage it entirely. it was too easy to imagine knotting my hands in his hair, before ripping through the remaining buttons of his shirt -- my teeth grazing against the veins of his throat, as i peppered kisses along his jawline . . . i told myself it was purely primal, carnal desire that would subside soon -- rumbling, but fleeting temptation only derived from a decrepit sense of loneliness, that was simply heightened by liquid courage.

i bit my lip as he spoke, the soft purr of his voice sending a shutter down my spine -- his confession clamoring at a part of my soul in a way i still didn't understand. the way i could feel his pain and self-loathing permeate throughout my body as if it were my own. my hand pulled away slowly, tracing the sharp point of his ear. " maybe it's not about what we deserve, " i whispered, almost forgetting that anyone else was in the tavern with us, as we held each other's gaze a moment too long. the heat and sincerity burning in his stare, threatened to dissolve me -- i had no choice but to look away so i could regain my composure. glancing over my shoulder, desperate for any sudden distraction, " i bet i could beat you in a game of darts. "

a smile darts across his features, solemn & fleeting, disappearing as soon as amren presses further. with all that is going on, a war no doubt on it's way — rhysand's concern should be focused elsewhere. he feels ashamed to admit that his mind has been consumed by the bond, the news he'd heard through it, the joy that his mate had felt upon a proposal. feyre's thoughts were too loud to drown out sometimes, no matter how much he wished to tune it out. it was a bitter reminder of what he'll never have.

rhysand's fingers drum against the glass of amber, eyes dropping as he takes a breath. " she is going to marry him. " his tone is quiet, broken, lacking the confidence of a high lord. during the past few weeks of feyre's return to the spring court, he was hoping that tamlin's treatment of her was just ... a transitional period, that he'd notice the lifeless shell she had become. step in & do something. yet day by day, she continues to wither away, all while he just watches.

" if she were happy — truly happy. i could bear it. " but her nightmares that keep him awake at night, the way she empties out her stomach while tamlin sleeps soundly, tells him all he needs to know. " but she's wasting away there, while they all pretend to not notice ... am i just supposed to do the same? "

amren leans against a doorway, the look on her face vague and impenetrable. it's been weeks since rhysand has returned from under the mountain. he did not need words for the rest of them to understand that he was not having the best time. whatever happened to him under amarantha's thumb... rage rises inside her, fast and steady, poised to strike like a snake. but the object of her ire is long dead. it's a pity, really, that it wasn't amren who killed her.

“ soft? ” she scoffs, taking the seat he offered her and crossing one leg over the other. in the dark, she surveys rhysand with her swirling silver gaze. the tired cast of his face is answer enough to amren's unasked question. “ i remain as sharp as ever, boy. ” she leans forward, takes the glass of blood he so kindly conjured for her and takes a generous sip, tongue darting out to lick her lips clean. “ i can't sleep, and you're out here brooding so i'm surmising you can't either. ” it's partly true, but amren won't deny that she is worried about rhysand as well. as his second, she feels it is part of her charge to ensure his wellbeing from time to time. she hasn't been able to perform that duty in 49 years.

“ out with it, then. ” amren leans back in her seat, braces one elbow against the back of her chair. “ what is on your mind, high lord? ”

" scared? " rhysand laughs, allowing her to lead him through the tavern. " if you insist. allow me to think of some wicked punishment for you, when i win. " he runs a hand through his blue - black hair, whatever desperation & lust that lingered on his face washed away in an instant. it's replaced by an amused smile, as he stalks behind her, his palm guiding the small of feyre's back to help steady her. to see her like this, carefree ... alive. with the color returned to her cheeks, so magnetic. a side of her that he never thought he'd witness, maybe didn't deserve. it unravels rhysand in a way that he could never begin to explain, his heart beating so fast that he'd thought it'd explode.

rhys leans against a wall, hands sliding into his pockets as he sizes her up. the power behind feyre's throw, the splintering of the wood, lights up his features, shoulders shaking with a quiet laughter. he anticipates his win, already. " very nice. although, i don't remember the objective of this game being see who can bring the tavern to ruins the fastest. " he takes his darts in hand, pausing to face feyre. " i've thought of my conditions. if i win, you have to dance with me. " it's said baldly, stars dancing in his violet gaze. " and since i am a fair high lord, you may decide your winnings. "

he turns to aim up his shot, before throwing the darts with swift precision & ease, as if he could hit the bullseye with his eyes closed. he very well could. a casual smirk appears, stepping back to look at feyre with a matching shrug. " though, i wouldn't hold your breath. would you like to wave your white flag now, feyre darling? "

i was able to ignore his obvious shift in demeanor, the same way i was able to block out my own fleeting whims — relieved i still possessed enough restraint to prevent us from making a mistake we’d both regret. frivolous flirting was harmless, but a kiss, in public, would’ve been earth shattering. i refused to think of those potential repercussions now, instead downing my own drink and rolling my eyes — a subtle smirk threatening to break through, as i lost control of my features. “ do your worst. a wager then. best of three. name the stakes. unless you're scared. ”

i jumped to my feet, much too fast — horrified to find myself gently swaying with the room, my intoxication immediately amplified as i gripped the back of my chair. how had i gotten so drunk? i steadied myself before i could humiliate myself any further, leading the way to the back of the tavern once i trusted myself not to fall. i grabbed a handful of metal darts, grazing my thumb over the sharp points, as if the cool, prick could ground me. truthfully, i had never played before, and this was perhaps not the time to start — but his natural, competitive edge and wry smile roused something in me every time. i threw my first dart with a strength and ferocity that i forgot i possessed — half of the dart splintering as it hit the board, pieces ricocheting back towards me and rhysand. shock ruminated on my features, before i relaxed my shoulders, unbothered by any prying eyes -- channeling his casual indifference. “ i must get some points for that. ” a simple shrug, “ your turn, high lord. ”

rhysand rests his chin upon knuckles, head tilting ... truthfully, it's rare these days for him not to be so on edge. with all of the information they've been gathering on hybern, whatever is going on between him and feyre. his lack of sleep is the perfect cherry on top. it's all said with a single glance, a small shrug — dodging the question at hand. " if this is another attempt at getting me to go to rita's with you, i'm afraid you'll only end up disappointed. though, i'm sure cassian will have no objection. "

the blonde only lifts a brow at rhysand, as if daring him to continue on with that tone. she knows he's only teasing her, though, that eventual smile forming on his lips then growing on her own. ❝ hey, don't be mad that i'm perfect at my job. i don't see why i should be punished for that. ❞ she'll chuckle, mor striding closer to her high lord only to take a seat in the nearest chair. one leg crosses over the other, brow raising again. ❝ what's got you so uptight? maybe a break would do you some good. ❞

for the first time in years, rhysand allows himself to relax. eyes flutter shut, soaking up every second of bliss that only seems to come in her presence. he can picture spending every night for the rest of his days with her like this, the image so colorfully displayed out for him behind his eyelids: feyre in his arms, as she tells him about her day. the kisses they would share — how easy sleep would find him. his imagination drifts to these thoughts most nights, only to wake up disappointed by cruel reality, his bedside cold.

her confession brings hope that maybe those dreams weren't so far off, after all. he doesn't remember the last time he has felt so seen beyond the image he had crafted of himself, or if he ever even has at all. rhysand swallows past the growing lump in his throat, eyes opening to meet the one's he'd felt on him, before pivoting to linger on her lips. wrapped up in her scent, with all of the courage she has given him, it would be too easy to kiss her right now. but the thought is pushed away almost as soon as it even begins. she's healing, maybe even still loves tamlin ... it's the last thing she needs right now. instead, he only shrugs, flashing a smirk as he meets feyre's gaze. " i tried to tell you, i am quite delightful. "

it was the safest i had felt in months — curled up in his arms, surrounded by a starry night that coaxed me towards a peaceful slumber. no one could hurt me here, no one could break past his power. he was here — i wasn’t alone anymore. as he whispered softly against my hair, my heart sputtered eagerly — goosebumps raising on my arms, as his fingers brushed against my flesh in soothing strides. my breathing quieted and evened out, chest raising softly as he comforted me, bringing me back down to earth. i continued to clutch his hand, forbidding both him and myself from daring to let go. for a quiet moment, we were the only two people left in the world and i wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

this was by far my favorite side i had seen of him. his touch was so tender and his voice so raw, so unlike the lord of darkness he had presented himself as. i couldn’t help but wonder how many others had been fortunate enough to truly know him in the quiet light as i did. i both pitied those that never would and delighted in knowing that this moment was entirely mine. a part of me never wanted it to end, almost afraid that once i woke up again, i’d realize none of it had been real. my eyes fluttered open at the thought, head tilting up to admire him — how he was even more beautiful in the dark of night. the way the shadows accentuated his sharp features and the stars reflected in his eyes, his mask slipping as he let me in. “ thank you for getting me out of there, ” i whispered, no longer meaning just amarantha’s underground prison. “ you knew i needed help before i did. i was wrong about you. ”

" talk, without wanting something? hm. perhaps you have changed in my absence. " rhysand chuckles, distracting himself with the sleeve of his jacket. family dinners had become daunting, somehow overwhelming since his return. the idea of getting home to velaris, to them ... it's what kept him going, all of those years. & yet, every moment he spends with them feels fleeting, now. as if he's expecting to lose them again. " you know as well as i do, they've already started without us. " a beat, before a bottle of amber, along with two glasses, appears onto the coffee table. he flashes an innocent smile, head tilting. " i suggest we at least try to catch up with them, before we grace them with our presence. "

he's relaxing a bit already, and mor finds herself softening her smile in return. she doesn't need to be anyone other than who she is around rhysand, just as he doesn't need to be anyone he isn't around her; it's been this way for as long as she can remember. ❝ you think that's the only reason i'm here? maybe i just want to talk you, rhys. ❞ though rita's is definitely one reason she's come to visit, but best not to admit that just yet. ❝ why don't we start with dinner? you look like you haven't been eating much lately, and i can't recall the last time i saw you eat with my own eyes. ❞ mor pauses, but only for a few seconds before going on. ❝ cass and az are both already in the dining room. they're just waiting for us to join them. ❞ dinner as a family is something they've only shared a few times since rhys had come back from under the mountain, and it's something mor craves now given how long they'd been apart.