Chapter Text
Lucien:
“I shouldn’t...I shouldn’t have been made a Seer.”
Elain’s sobs filled the room. Her back was bent forward and shook with each heaved breath. Nesta’s hands smoothed over her back in rushed attempts to placate her sister but Elain was too far into her sorrow. Both wore their long dresses but they had long since been rumpled, stained and ruined from the stress. Elain’s hair was a frizzy mess cascading down her back while Nesta’s braid barely held together around her head. Nesta’s eyes were just as round as her sisters, looking pleadingly at me. The fire crackled in a mocking way, offering no warmth or comfort.
I willed my feet into motion but the finality of the night struck me dead. Elain’s tears ignited the funeral pyre in my mind’s eye. Feyre was gone and there was the chance she might not ever be coming back. Loss was a pit inside me that grew wider and wider. Logic begged me to see that mates are the workings of destiny and that Feyre was far from fulfilling her purpose with Rhysand. Instincts demanded I take Elain and run as far as I could; Rhysand’s parents had been mates and died all the same. Mates might be tools of the Mother but they could be killed too. Destiny would adapt and pick another pair.
Rhysand’s shuddering breath shook me from my horrifying thoughts. He trembled. His eyes were squeezed shut and face twisted in pain. “You knew?” he asked quietly.
Elain wheezed. “There was a chance,” she admitted. I wanted to cringe but resisted the impulse. Not because I was ashamed of Elain’s choices but for how those choices would tear holes in our makeshift family. I knew there was nothing to help it and yet I found myself wishing differently for my mate. I didn’t want her to feel apart from this family. After tonight I knew that would always be a dream. As a Seer, she was more closely tied to destiny than all of us and that burden was too heavy for us to understand. I’d try my best.
My legs obeyed my next command and I strode to her side. Nesta’s eyes flicked from Rhysand to me with a cautiousness I thought long gone. The last time she had looked so suspicious had been when we first arrived at the war camps. Yet, when I came near, her hands dropped to clasp Elain’s so I could rest mine on my mate’s shoulder.
Elain’s head lifted to gaze up at me; her face was tracked by tears. Her red eyes focused on me and read all my emotions with ease. I had her undivided attention. When I spoke, I spoke only to my mate. “You could not have acted differently,” I told her.
Rhysand’s answering huff would have aggravated me had he not looked so utterly broken by my words. His glassy violet eyes nearly begged me to keep speaking but I knew he’d never believe me anyway. We could all say that fate was far from our hands and remove all responsibility but none of us believed that. Rhysand would not. Tonight was his fault and perhaps even Elain’s.
But that did not mean they were guilty, only victim to another one of Hybern’s plots. Failure was not foreign to me. I had felt this way after Jesminda died, my banishment from the Autumn Court and Tamlin’s dismissal as well. Though from the looks on the three male’s faces, this was a first for them. They hadn’t lost on the scale we had tonight.
“Hybern had us. We were blindsided,” Cassian’s hoarse voice broke the silence. He didn’t believe what he said either. His hand rested on Rhysand’s shoulder. The gesture might have been reassuring but also restraining. I stepped as close to Elain’s side as possible. It was unnecessary but after tonight, I was at the whim of my instincts. Elain, hearing me, leaned back into my touch. One of her hand’s left Nesta’s to clasp over mine. Her grip was tight.
The six of us divided the room evenly. Azriel and Cassian flanked Rhysand’s sides but their gaze rested on Rhysand, gauging and calculating. “What did you see?” Rhysand asked. He looked one step away from falling over or maybe shaking Elain until she admitted what she had witnessed.
Elain sucked in a breath, looking instead to Nesta. Nesta’s focus was entirely on her sister. Her eyes had lost their hardness in exchange for something far more sorrowful. She bit her cheek.
“You cannot know,” I supplied when Elain remained silent.
Rhysand’s gulp filled my ears. His throat bobbed, eyes focusing on the floor. “Nothing?” Rhysand begged.
“Rhys,” Azriel sighed, tired and sad. Rhysand looked to his brother and they exchanged some kind of silent conversation that ended in a soft shake of Azriel’s head.
Rhysand’s jaw tightened but he nodded. He kept nodding too like that kept him from feeling the pain. “Alright,” he whispered hoarsely, voice choked. He left us quickly, front door closing behind him with a soft click. I thought I felt the moment when he winnowed away, the ground trembled barely beneath my feet, but it could have been imagined.
Cassian stared at the rug-covered floor while Azriel stared at me. His eyes were unknowable. His mind was churning but the only evidence I had was the impatient flicker of his shadows that wanted to swallow the room whole. He made his decision and with a soft sigh, “I am going to organize my spies and look for her.”
Her. I didn’t want to say her name either.
Rhysand was too close to the brink of his sanity to look for his mate tonight. He needed time for us to tell how losing her would affect him. In the morning, we would know where his mind would go. I prayed it would return to us; as much as I wanted to give Rhysand space for healing, we needed him too badly. Now more than ever, we needed the High Lord of the Night Court and I didn’t need to say that his mate would need him even more so.
“I’ll go with you,” Cassian volunteered. His hazel eyes burned holes into Nesta but her focus was still with Elain. I didn’t fool myself into thinking she wasn’t acutely aware of him as well. She swallowed.
“You should stay here for Rhys,” Azriel reasoned.
“I can stay here with Rhysand,” I nodded curtly.
Both males stared at me with eyes that ranged from withering to admiring. Azriel’s brows furrowed as if he didn’t know where I had cropped up from. “Rhys might try to kill you,” he said slowly. “You might need to fight him.” I thought the Shadowsinger’s words were a little obvious. Rhysand’s mindset was a little less forgiving tonight and anything could set him off.
I thought that made me the better candidate for watching over Rhysand. I could understand his lapses of control; I knew I’d be as unstable if it had been Elain stolen. Besides, Azriel and Cassian would be far more effective than I would. Even if I did command the Night Court’s spies and legions, I was too distracted with worries for my mate. Her pain through the bond would only take away from my focus. They were our best chance at figuring out anything useful and the most I could do was make sure Rhysand remained in one piece till morning. “I accept the risk.”
Azriel’s eyes kept cautious but Cassian’s turned grateful, though they laid on Nesta. “We’ll be back when we have news,” he dipped his head and Nesta responded with a slight nod to show she had heard him. Her hands were fisted in her lap and white as a sheet.
They were gone in a blink but the tension stayed with us.
“She was really taken,” Elain whispered, head bowed to her lap. “Hybern has her.”
This was common knowledge and I trusted that Elain would share what she could but every word felt like a punch: a shock of something foreign I rejected wholeheartedly.
Feyre was gone and Hybern had her. Amarantha might as well have remained on her throne for how much we have progressed. I could just unearth my fox mask and pretend the world hadn’t changed. Except now, Feyre had no allies with her.
I didn’t consider Tamlin an ally anymore. I thought I knew him but if he had aided Hybern in anyway, he was gone. I couldn’t spare anymore thoughts for my once friend. He was dead now. I needed to accept that. After tonight there could be no more tolerance for any fondness towards the Spring Court; not just within the Night Court but within all of Prythian. The other High Lords would not suffer a traitor either.
Nesta breathed out shakily. She sniffled, wiping at her eyes hastily. “If she can survive Amarantha as a human then she can survive this,” her words began unsteady but grew in confidence and fervor. She glanced at the front door like her sister would walk through any minute. “It’s Hybern that should be scared. It’s his mistake,” her eyes met mine. Steel greeted me. Nesta believed her words.
She made me want to believe them too.
Morrigan:
I could hardly breathe from how oppressively hot the hallways were. Even far from the sun’s direct heat, the air was stuffy and hot. My throat was dry, lips chapped and no amount of saliva could rectify the problem. It was undecided whether staying outside, where the possibility of a breeze still existed, could have been better. Paradoxically, my body was wet. My armor layered on my thin cotton tunic shirt and churidars kept all the sweat in. A verifiable pond had formed inside my boots.
Two weeks on the continent had done nothing but remind me why I hated the continent. Their weather wasn’t controlled by the High Lord’s magic so it was subject to every whim of the Mother herself. Unfortunately for me, this meant heat waves in the middle of winter. It took a week to figure out that the Yul-Prow mountain ranges to the northwest tended to trap the air and make the region unreasonably warm.
Despite the weather, the Human Queens insisted I remain outside the walls of the Prow City until they had come to a decision on the High Lord’s offerings. As leaving the offerings alone with the Human Queens was beyond question, I was required to tote the offerings to and fro my campsite into the city everyday for another long day of inspection. This ritual that started at dawn would have been tolerable had Lord Remus, cousin to Queen Juno, hadn’t been required to escort me. He was an intolerable ass. Luckily, I was experienced with his type.
The Queens finally accepted the offering. I had naively thought that, accompanying my invitation to stay inside Prow City, my escort would no longer be required to watch me. That was not the case.
That brought me to the present, awaiting another audience with the Queens while Lord Remus stood next to me: sweating like a Winter Court messenger fox in a Summer Court desert. My mood was understandably poor.
A human guard opened the doors. “The fae may enter,” he called. This was another habit I loathed.
Lord Remus preceded me into the receiving chambers which was a cavernous stone room with stained glass windows. There was no furniture in the room except for the five thrones placed in a semi-circle for the Queens. Their royal retinue and guard stood faithfully at their backs and pointedly opposite to me. They inspected me with disdain which further soured my mood. I felt their judgement more so than I did with the fae.
“We’ve sent the letter you requested. Does this conclude your presence here?” Queen Juno, just as bold as her cousin, was the first to speak. Yet, I found myself admiring her for this trait I detested in her relation.
Her hair was golden like his yet she wore it tightly bound in intricate braids that piled on her head. Even in the heat, she wore a high-necked gown though it was made of a sheer cream lace that was secured by white ribbons at her neck, wrists and waist. The only splash of color was the golden sash strung over her shoulder and knotted at her waist. I’d come to recognize what the slight tilts of her thin lips meant and presently, it was mild interest.
“Queen Juno, I will take this line of questioning. This is my city.” Queen Nuru spoke evenly. Her full lips quirked momentarily downward, painted in a crimson I enjoyed. She had odd, wide brown eyes that made her appear childlike even though her skin was creased by the years. Her unbound brown hair was streaked with grey, stemming from her temples. “Lady. We have accepted the offerings from your Lords and we await Lady Feyre’s response. Should we anticipate your departure now?”
Though Queen Nuru scared the least out of all five, I could hear the tones of hopefulness. I smiled kindly but it likely came out as threatening. “I will await further instruction from my Lady and remain here until so...at your approval,” I nodded my head towards the Queen. The offerings had been weighed and deemed worthy after countless explanations of their functions. The High Lords had been meticulous and dedicated in their attempts to ensure their treasures were appropriately received and treated. Including Rhysand. All objects were painstakingly packaged and wrapped; they also contained a brief description of their history.
The values of each are hard to compare with one another. The Winter Court provided a deel that allowed the wearer to turn into ice and nearly be transparent. Thesan didn’t even provide an heirloom. He bottled a vial of his blood, enough for an entire city, which acts as a general antidote to all poisons.
Rhysand hadn’t told me his plan but when I unveiled his offering, I thought I was mistaken. Wrapped in a piece of blue silk and deceptively light was a cut of femur bone, hollowed by age. It was strung on a finely woven string of hair. It didn’t take longer than a moment to see the connection. They were pieces from the Weaver and Bone Carver, the twins of death, and had been acquired by Rhysand’s great grandfather.
He feared vengeance from the Death Gods because he had been involved in tricking them into their respective prisons. Despite their imprisonment, both are capable of hearing and seeing any living being in the entire world at any given time. To avoid being watched, he had this token made which makes the user invisible to the all seeing-eyes of either Death Gods. The misconception in the original myth suggests the wearer cannot be found by death but that’s an unfortunate error in translation. The meaning is literal instead: the wearer cannot be found by the Death Gods, the Weaver and Bone Carver.
All five Queens had been annoyingly oblivious to it’s value. When I explained that the Death Gods are very much alive and are likely watching this meeting, they had wisely shut their mouths. It is unclear how much of destiny the Weaver and Bone Carver can determine or bring about; however, it is not recommended to suggest their irrelevance. Untimely deaths are the least of the twin’s powers. They usually take their revenge in more cruel manners: curses on descendants or the tragic death of star-crossed lovers. The least I dared hope for was a quick death.
Further debate was postponed when the doors behind me opened for a second time. The human courtier stepped forward to gain audience with Queen Nuru. He bowed at the waist before announcing, “Another fae, my Queen, has arrived at our gates and seeks out the fae Lady Morrigan.” He barely glanced at me while he spoke.
Feyre worked quickly , I thought with relief. The sooner this business was over the sooner I could return to normal society where rooms were far more comfortable. I would never complain about the cold Illyrian mountains again.
“The Lady Feyre?” Queen Nuru asked, curious. Her eyes narrowed on the poor courtier, near accusing him of hiding Feyre away from scrutiny. I hoped they didn’t take offence to Feyre wanting to see me before them. Their delicate senses of pride might demand Feyre treat them with higher priority; however, my list of priorities put Feyre leagues ahead of them.
“No, my Queen,” he dipped his head apologetically. My brows rose worriedly. All of our attention was on him and his eyes flicked about. “The fae is from one of the seven Courts. She claims she is the Lady Cresseida, Princess of Adriata of the Summer Court and has urgent news for the Lady Morrigan.”
I didn’t bother to hide my look of confusion as well. If anyone had urgent news for me, I’d expect it to come from my own court at least. Perhaps Rhysand thought news from the Summer Court sounded less daunting than from the Night Court , I mused. Though Rhysand wouldn’t have known to send Cresseida to deliver a message; he had Azriel for all important information. Only Azriel really knew of the precarious relationship between Cresseida and I.
Ah.
Two possibilities worked their way through my mind. Cresseida was here on the unlikely chance that Tarquin had news for me. I didn’t know what the High Lord could possibly need from me unless this was somehow about my feelings for Cresseida. I rolled my eyes at that likelihood. The other option I had worked out was significantly more worrying and seemed to grow in probability: Azriel was detained and needed to reach me immediately.