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WILL MOR KILL READER FOR THE BETRAYAL? FIND OUT BELOW - let me know what you guys liked and feel free to send me asks/requests for the next part of new stories! 

Cassian thanked Madja over a dozen times once Nesta was stable. And a dozen more when was nearly fully recovered. The healer waved him off each time, but did not complain. Nyx had gained his full color back over the week of deliberating what the note Nesta found meant. 

“Deep among frozen 

Roots from tree and ocean 

Lies death awaiting”

The soft curves of Feyre’s writing on the parchment seemed out of tune with the meaning behind the words. Amren had even tried reverse translating them into the runes similar to the ones marked on the book of breathings. Azriel had only stopped in once in the week he’d been gone, only to inform Rhys of why exactly he wasn’t able to help at the moment. 

Cassian barked a laugh when Rhys told him. “They’ll be bruised and raw when we see them again.” His high lord shook his head, but there was a smile there. Both the males knew just what their brother was feeling, how impossible it was to stay away from his Winter mate now that the bond had been accepted. 

“She may know more about this than we do. Frozen roots and ocean? That sounds like winter court to me.” Mor said, propping her feet on the coffee table. The others had gone for the night, tired of the different interpretations of the same phrase over and over again. Mor was stubborn though, and determined to figure out what each syllable of it could mean. 

“It could also be anywhere north, though. Our own territory is frozen half the year, as well as Valhallan. The East side of Illyria is the most forested of the coastlines, but it is mostly beaches. Not many caves like Winter holds.” Rhys sighed, and summoned a bottle of wine beside Mor’s feet. She happily poured herself a glass, and sat back in the chair again. Cassian watched the flames in the hearth, hoping for some kind of answer to come to him. He wasn’t the best with words, Nesta knew that the best. But he could manage a riddle now and again. 

“What if it’s not actual ice, or frozen shit it’s talking about? What if it just means… settled?” He offered, talking to himself more than anything. The two cousins paused, and looked to him slowly. 

“The Middle.” Rhys breathed. 

+

Azriel was not the best cook, but it was better than nothing. The soup he made remained half eaten once a comment was made about how well it smelled. After scenting the air, and picking up just the slightest arousal from you, he had taken you there in your seat, until you were both too tired to move. You rested your forehead on his shoulder, panting.

“Aren’t you tired of this yet?” You asked, words muddled from exhaustion. His warm fingers tickled up and down your back soothingly as you shook from the aftershocks.

“I dont think I could ever tire of you.” He muttered into your ear. 

It was true, even when you’d gotten back to Velaris it was hard not to remain locked in the house of wind together - fucking on any available surface. But you managed, and had to stay on the opposite side of the room as him while Rhys told the group of the plan. 

“Cassian was right about the frozen part. We could take that literally or figuratively at this point. We know that whatever Kai is looking for would be in the middle. Nesta and Cassian will search the Mountain. Feyre and I will take the western coast, you and Azriel will take the eastern coast.”

 He handed you a cloth map detailing sections of the middle and different landmarks. “Remember how brutal it is there. Do not lose each other. There is no law there, their rules abide by who is deadliest, meanest. We will start searching at noon, and return only when we are done with our areas. It may take days. Then, we all meet at the entrance under the mountain.” He said the name of the place with disdain, the edge of his lip curling up in disgust. 

“I can help.” Elain said softly from the corner. Azriel tensed, you could see the concern in his features, feel it lace the bond as his eyes whipped to her. “I can try a scrying. I have herbs to help.” She offered, looking away from Nesta’s outraged expression. 

“Absolutely not-” She began, but Feyre held up a hand. 

“Would you be comfortable doing that?” The high lady asked. “It isn’t a necessity, but it would help.” 

Nesta glared at her sister with a heated expression you wanted no part of. Yo ucould feel the tension building in the air as the sisters discussed. Mor’s eyes went to all three of them, bouncing back and forth while awaiting an answer. Elain shifted on her feet, her full figure swaying in her dress with her. “If I can help, I will.” She nodded.

Mor looked to Rhysand, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “I can winnow to the middle and tell you what she finds. Amren will be with her until I get back.” Mor said, if was meant to be an offer, but sounded more like a definitive plan. Cassian pulled Nesta back to his side when she raised a finger to Mor. 

“The girl is brave. Let her try.” Amren said casually, her nose in an ancient book, the runes of the poem beside her. Still translating it back, still trying to find any connection.

After Nesta’s hissed arguments with her sisters, it seemed there was a deal struck. As long as Elain was Scrying, Feyre would be at her side. Morrigan and Rhys would scour the mountain together, and the youngest sister would winnow back any information. IT was the best compromise they could come to.

+

Mor winnowed you and Azriel to the edge of Day court, at the edge of the wood that you destroyed the barrier to. A chill seemed to emit from where it once had been. “We don’t stop until we find it. If you think you’ve found something, come find us. Rhys may be able to sense what it can do.” 

Azriel muttered something that had Mor scowling. “Watch out for each other.” He finished. Mor glanced to you, giving you a long, knowing look. “You too.” She said, before disappearing into the wind.

+

Feyre laid out the bones before her sister. Grateful that Nesta was gone, they could both breathe easier knowing that the Scrying wouldn’t be interrupted. The high lady did not miss Elain’s slightly trembling hands as she placed the bowl in the center of the table. 

“This will be different than last time. You’re not searching for a person, but feeling for whatever… this is.” Feyre placed one of the many copies of the riddle beside the bowl. 

“I’ll try my best.” Elain’s voice came out weaker than she meant it too. As if she felt the hopelessness of it already.

“I know you will.” Feyre smiled, and for a moment, Elain could see a glimpse of Nyx as a child there. His smiling, laughing face as he would get into the sweets cupboard at Elain’s apartment when she watched him. “Dont get pulled in too deep though, we need you here.” Feyre pulled a chair beside her sister. The warm sound of the townhome’s creaky floors settled her stomach slightly.

“I said I’ll try my best. If that is what it takes, then I’ll do it.” She crushed some of the fresh garden herbs around the scrying cloth, and took a steadying breath. Her last time doing this had led to nothing but trouble, and death. Now.. now she had the chance to help her own court. To help her own people, her family. 

She did not take the opportunity lightly.

+

Exhaustion was beginning to have its toll over you as the sun began setting behind the mountains and treetops that speared to the sky. Azriel landed beside you as you sat on a fallen log. Small ferns and sprouts poked out of the cracked side near where you rested. “Anything?” You asked, pushing hair from your damp forehead. You had kept a steady jog the entire time, criss crossing with Azriel’s path as he flew overhead. 

He groaned and stretched his back, flexing his wings at different angles. “Nothing. No word from Rhys either.” He sat beside you, your thighs bumping together tiredly. “How are we even supposed to know what this looks like?” You sighed, leaning back. 

“I think we’ll know it when we see it. And if we haven’t found it yet, I doubt we will. We’ve covered a lot of ground today, we have a few miles until the halfway point.” He rubbed his eyes, and pulled his damp hair back. 

“Will it rain?” You asked, stretching your arms.

“Not sure, but you should rest while it’s dry out.” He grunted, hauling himself from the log and offering his hand to you. You stared him down, waiting for him to question you. But he didn’t. He merely waited, hand still outstretched for you. He was learning your ways, your stubbornness and the looks you sent his way. It seemed with each hour he was with you, he was learning more. He couldn’t get enough of it. It was like learning to fly again, finally being able to let his instincts take control and tell him what to do.

“You should rest. I’ll take first watch.” You tried spinning it on him, but knew the outcome before you’d even offered. He pulled you up, and strung up the lines for the tent while you started a small fire. Soon, he had the bedpads down and a blanket ready. The soup was surprisingly filling, for being so light on protein. 

You watched from the tent while he stoked the fire, secret grateful that he insisted on you sleeping first. The deep, cold aching in your bones was beginning to thaw away when he laid beside you. “What if it’s a ploy?” You asked quietly. You wouldn’t have suggested it before you were mated. You didn’t trust your paranoid thoughts enough with another person. But he was bound to you now, and something deep inside you said that you could tell him anything. 

“Then we’ve left Velaris nearly defenseless against an attack.” He said back. He’d clearly been thinking about it as well. 

“And if it’s not… we have something called death itself at our hands.” Your words seemed to be a shout in the night, even though it was barely a whisper. No sounds outside, besides the rustling of trees in the wind. 

“Along with three high fae in the night court alone. We’ll win this.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, and wrapped an arm around your middle. You hoped he was right. The doubts swarmed, and kept you from sleep for a while before he began stroking your hair. You were out within minutes after that.

+

Elain floated through the fog along the coastline, soaring high above the crashing waves and wind chill. The view was almost as if she was being flown by an Illyrian, only this was much, much faster. Her hands roamed over the map in front of her as Feyre watched. The shaking of her fingers stopped as soon as she began searching. 

Feyre was ready to grab her sister’s hand as soon as she showed any sign of struggle. But her fingers traced over and over the parchment, again and again in a grid pattern. 

She was soaring, flying fast and faster it seemed. But she saw everything with clarity. Especially the plants below, the trees, even some of the animals. The branches seemed to sway towards her, the ivy reached up to touch her where she skimmed closer and closer to the treetops.

Sweat began beading at her brow. She was falling. 

+

Aching soreness stung your muscles when you woke. Azriel had let you sleep much longer than he should have. Dawn wasn’t far off, the night sky diluting into a deep blue color from the east. His tired smile was too sweet to be mad at him. You did throw the blanket at him, however. 

He fell asleep quickly, savoring your scent and warmth of the blanket. You idly stroked the ridge of one of his wings while he dozed off, earning an unexpected groan from him. Your thoughts narrowed on that sound, blocking out everything else. The bond raged with need on your side, calling for him on his empty, restful side. You shoved it down. He was sleeping. He was sleeping! 

But your thoughts were muddied as your breaths grew shorter in the cramped tent, scenting him in every lung full of air you brought in. You clenched your thighs together, trying to contain yourself. His wing twitched, as if asking you to play with it again. 

You needed air, quickly. Before you woke him to really make him groan like that again. 

The stars shimmered faintly even as the sun rose, winking out their last goodbyes when the sheer brightness of the morning rays shut them out. The birds began calling, singing and chirping to one another as if they weren’t in a cursed land, full of the worst monsters of Prythian. The ones that weren’t locked in the Prison, that was. 

You stoked the fire, and checked in on Azriel occasionally. His mighty figure took up nearly the entire footprint of the tent while he splayed out on his stomach. Arms propped his head up like a pillow, and the curve of his back reminded you of just how muscled he was under all the layers. The soft breathing was even, and peaceful. 

The morning sky faded from pink to orange, then gave way to the bright, clear blue sky of late spring in Prythian. Perhaps that was why the birds sang, calling to each other to find a mate for the season. Tiredness still left you dozy, and you fought not to fall back to sleep when you sat beside the fire. You got up, began doing stretches, workouts, lunges. Anything to keep you awake while you kept watch over Azriel’s sleeping figure. 

+

The fall seemed to be faster than the flight somehow. Elain braced for the impact against the rock wall that grew closer and closer without slowing. Her breath lodged in her chest, she readied for the pain of it. But it became quiet, eerily so. 

She opened her eyes, lowered her arms. In front of her, about ten feet above the stone floor, was a carved archway. Dusty and black with age, but very clearly an archway. Her heart no longer thundered in her chest. This place was..empty. Utterly empty, the light itself hadn’t touched it in many, many years. She approached the jagged rock wall, intending to climb her way up. But she floated, gracefully and gently up the side until her feet rested on the ledge in front of the arch. 

Now closer, she could see the small carvings there on the recessed wall. Blocky, strange letters that did not belong to this era of Prythian. Below them lay a small square inlet, with a button like square on the bottom of it. It had been a long, long time since anyone had seen this place. She reached out her hand to push the square, but she found she couldnt. Like there was an invisible shield around it.

Then, she was being pulled backwards, back to warmth. Back to reality. Back to her sister’s wide, worried eyes staring at her. “Elain?” She asked, her voice high pitched with worry. 

“I know where it is.” She breathed. “I need Amren.” 

+

You woke Azriel at noon, with some warm soup and pine needle tea. He seemed to put on a brave face for the day, but you could see the exhaustion beneath his eyes. It hurt your heart to see him so ragged. “We’ll start the pattern again, the forest begins to thin as we get closer to the mountain.” 

“You mean to say, I can move faster with less brush in the way.”

“Yes, and I can see you better.” He sipped from his cup and set it down, beginning to lace up his boots.

“You dont have to worry about me. I grew up on ice, I can handle rock.” 

“Maybe I’m not worrying.” He gazed at you from under his lashes as he expertly tied the top of each lace. You froze at that look, those eyes that told you everything that he wanted to do, but couldn’t. Not right now, anyway. He went from sitting on the bedpad, to kneeling. Directly in front of you. The sight alone made your body thrum with arousal, setting every thought of anything but him out the door. He took a deep, savoring breath, and sighed. “Maybe I just want to see you.” 

+

“This is what you saw in your vision?” Amren asked, her eyes more drawn than when the sisters first appeared at her door. Elain nodded, and pointed at the drawing Feyre had made from her description. It was like a perfect picture of it, minus the dark colors. 

“And this is some kind of button, on the inside of the tray here.” Elain pointed to the square panel below the lettering. 

“Do you know what this says?” Feyre asked. She wasn’t a fool, she didn’t dare place her bets on this solving all of their problems. But her sister had pointed toward the middle, with her eyes closed. Her finger landing directly on the eastern slope of the cursed mountain. 

Amren’s lips moved silently as she read the letters, over and over again. “I dont know.” She sighed, and hurriedly brought the paper over to her living area. She sat comfortably on the floor, the plush rug waving over her tight leggings like grass. “It looks familiar… but in a different way. Like hearing someone with an accent speak.” She brought out a large binder of notes and papers from under the coffee table. Along with it, rolled out the box from The Warden. 

She went pale. Concerningly so. “Amren?” Elain asked, kneeling beside her friend. Feyre looked to the box, then to Amren’s frozen figure. “Amren? Are you alright?” Elain placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed slightly. The small Fae did not move an inch. She sat, still and cold as a rock. 

The paper in her hand quivered. 

“Holy mother above-” Feyre breathed.

+

You somehow managed to pack up camp and begin the trek without anything more than a simple kiss. It was hard to say the least, but you both knew the priorities with the task at hand. He did however, promise to continue it later. 

Branch after branch, stone after stone and so many damn thorny bushes later, you found the foliage finally clearing out, as he had promised. You gazed up to the sky, waiting to see him, but he never revealed himself. As much as it disappointed you, you understood the risk if he was that close. Others could easily see him if they were searching. In the Middle, you never knew who or what was looking.

He sent quick thoughts down the bond every now and then. Small updates about lovely things he saw from the view up high, a shimmering lake, the way the trees arced upwards  and casted shadows over one another when they grew tall enough, and sometimes - when he could see through the clouds, he’d send you an image of yourself. You batted them away usually, but it was interesting seeing his perspective on you, feeling what he felt while observing. The overwhelming attachment and care he felt during those images. 

It made your stomach flutter, and an amused zing would crack along the bond. It made him giddy. Like a fool in love. 

Truthfully, that was what he was now.

+

Feyre fell to her knees and scrambled for the box. It’s dark coating felt like a weight on her hands. Amren still did not move. The high lady’s power roiled inside her, flecking shadows of night along the walls and blotting out the sun from the open windows. 

“Amren.. Read this.” She said, not fully calm, but a tinor in her voice while she placed the box beside Amren’s hand that held the paper. 

“Feyre I think she-” Elain started softly, but Feyre’s intense look made her stop in her tracks. She had never used that commanding look upon her sisters before. Even when Nesta had been off the rails with drinking. It was unsettling, and made Elain recoil slightly. Her hand did not leave Armen’s shoulder though. The small female blinked, her pupils unmoving. Feyre watched, waitied. Amren blinked again, her eyebrows raising and eyes narrowing down at the paper in her hand. “You already know what this is.” She said, voice monotone. Like she had been possessed, taken on her own vision journey like Elain had been.

“Read. It.” Feyre said through her teeth. Elain could see the pain, the tears welling in her sister’s eyes now. Her heart sped with the possibilities. 

Amren flicked open the box’s lid, and held out the paper, side by side. She checked her notes. A small smile appeared at the corner of her lips as she nodded, her dark hair swaying with the movement. 

“Deep among frozen 

Roots from tree and ocean 

Lies death awaiting”

She took a shuddering breath. “Your door says the same… but at the end here..” She pointed to the last two runes before the square inlet below. “This one reads.. ‘Welcome, death. Welcome the end.’

Elain’s hand slipped from her shoulder.

+

You had reached an impassable rock wall long before you expected to, and Azriel landed, guiding you through a clear path he had seen from above. “Isn’t this romantic?” You sighed, grasping his hand. He smiled, and squeezed back. 

“Walking my mate through a deadly maze of rock, probably made by some creature that likes to play with their food before eating it?” 

“Sounds like you.” You laughed, the sound of it clashing off the flat boulders. 

+

Everything happened in a flurry of motion and half completed sentences. Amren was to stay at the townhome with Elain and try to find the entrance to the cave, while Feyre winnowed the box to Rhys and explained everything. 

Elain stopped her sister before leaving, her face a bit less pale than it had been moments ago when Amren read those last few words. “Be safe, please.” She said the words as a demand, not a request. The High lady pressed a soft kiss to her sister’s forehead, her tattooed hand clutching the box at her side. 

“I’m coming back. I promise.” She said, then, before Elain could stop her, she disappeared into shadow and wind.

+

Azriel had searched two more times for the path he swore he was leading you down. Only, when he looked back, it seemed the trail was disappearing as you went. He swore under his breath when he landed again, kicking up dust with the flare of his wings. “I may have conjured that beast we were talking about.” He said apologetically. “But there is a cave not too far ahead, we may be able to get through the other side of it and come out of a portal.”

“A portal, like in Spring court?” 

“They’re only really used to get here. And no one comes to the mountain anymore. It was sacred once, but after Amaranth and Hybern…” 

“I understand. It was taken from you. Not just you, but all of Prythian.” You knew the feeling. Having your home torn away by forces you couldn’t control felt pretty damn similar you’d imagine. You were glad though, that you hadn’t been around for the war with Hybern. It seemed that the world hadn’t been at peace since then. You couldn’t imagine going from a life of somewhat normality, to now this constant, raging political battle between courts. 

“Rhys saved us all from it though, he gave himself to keep Velaris safe. It’s why we never speak of the middle when we can avoid it.” He leant you his hand to climb up a particularly large rock. “He’s the bravest male I know.” 

“You would have done the same.” You said after a few steps. He hesitated, and you nearly ran into his wings. 

He did not turn to you when he spoke. “I’m not sure I would have. Not for Velaris, not even for myself.” He admitted. “I think I would have considered it a rightful punishment for me.”

“We’re going to work on that.” You said finally, earning a slight shake of his head. You turned him around to face you, glad he even let you. His stormy presence in your mind brought a chill to your bone. You shot back a whisk of cool wind, shocking and bright as an overcast sky. He stood straighter, just slightly. “We’re already making progress. Whether you like it or not.” You smiled.

You continued through the winding rock, gaining more and more height as you travelled. Eventually, there came a large outcropping of flat rock that led to a large archway made of stone among a flat vertical boulder. Azriel looked to you, feeling the unease down the bond. “Aren’t Mor and Rhys supposed to be here by now?” You asked quietly, as if the stones were listening. He sighed, and went to the dark beckoning archway.

The entrance to the cave was eerily quiet, not even the wind whistled through the cracks of the stone. You followed your mate closely, hand at your sword, ready to be drawn at any moment. The tunnel wound tightly, like a snake’s body. Curve after curve it grew wider and wider, until you could walk right next to him in the darkness. Ahead, rock skittered and froze you in place. Your blood rushed in your ears, the silence nearly deafening after. If it had been Rhys and Mor, they would have told you about finding this place, right? Or they were exploring it, making sure that it was a promising lead before reporting back.

 Azriel gripped his sword and gave you a nod to continue. “Rhys?” You called. Your voice echoed off the stone walls. Each step further led you into more and more darkness. 

“Morrigan?” Azriel’s call was much louder, causing more of an echo than yours had. Each step of your shoes seemed to be too loud, too harsh against your ears as you followed the widening path towards more darkness. Azriel gripped your hand. “So we dont get lost.” He muttered, his eyes never leaving the emptiness in front of you.

“You dont need to make excuses.” You whispered back, letting the smile seep into your tone. IT brought the smallest quirk of amusement to his lip. He squeezed your hand tighter.

Eventually, the turns evened out, and turned into a long corridor of wet stalactites and murky puddles. The end of it turned sharply, and seemed less natural than the rest of the cave had been.

Around that corner, it wasn’t darkness that greeted you. It was the shining metal of summer court armor. A bright light hung high above them all, shining down like the sun itself. And at the far wall of the cave, where all the soldiers watched, was a male you knew not from memory, but by only a name. 

Fendyrie. 

Your breathing stopped all together as you stared at him, no… at them. Kai as well.

+

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the Spring male there. In a cave already filled with horrors, another seemed to be added. His lip curled on its own accord, and fire rushed through his veins. Fendyrie’s pointed ears twitched, and he turned towards you. Towards both of you. 

The grin that split across his face was the epitome of wolfish. Not in a charming way, though. In the deadly, violent way that he possessed. Covered in light scars over his exposed skin, he seemed all the warrior that his father was.

His towering might turned to you, and even from far away you could tell he was an enormous brute. “Hello, princess.” He greeted. His golden hair shone in the light, much like Tamlin’s had in the portraits you’d seen. Yet the eyes… it could have been like looking into a mirror of yourself. His eyes and more delicate facial features resembled your mother. Yourself. Your stomach turned, heart leapt into your throat waiting to fight, to scream at him, to kill him yourself. To seek vengeance for your mother’s untimely death at the hand of his father. 

Guards shoved you and Azriel to the floor, away from the entrance. Your mate growled, and was up in an instant - ready to fight. But his sword was gone. Your eyes tracked the floor, looking for where it had fallen. It was nowhere to be seen. “Nice of you to show up.” Fendyrie stepped down from the spot they had been inspecting high up the wall. His sure footing handled the rock well, and he jumped down with more grace than you’d expect for someone so huge.

“This is my lovely wife.” Kai jumped down from the ledge as well, and the guards followed them as they closed in on you. A tight circle of silent, armed males growing closer and closer. At least eighty of them, far too many to try to fight your way out. Azriel knew as much too, and hauled you back up on your feet, and positioned himself just in front of you. His wing brushed your arm, almost in a comforting way. Kai prowled closer, Fendyrie circling to stand to the side of Azriel. Kai placed himself only a few dozen feet in front of you, and sighed.  “And I will become a widower today.”

+

Azriel’s shadows curled around your ankles, cold and weighted. As if you were standing in a tide of ocean water. “You will not touch my high lady.” Azriel’s snarl was nearly incomprehensible. Despite the grave situation, your cheeks heated. 

“As I recall, shadowsinger, you are sworn to Night Court.” Fendyrie cocked his head to the side and took a deep breath of the cave air, letting it sting his lungs. You knew what he would smell there, and did not balk at his reaction. “Your wife seems a bit loose, Kai.” He laughed. Azriel’s stance changed, his footing pointing towards Fendrie now. Kai circled closer, tisking his tongue as he did so. 

“I could see you lowering yourself to fuck an Illyrian, but to mate with one? The bastard must mean something to you. I’ll be sure to let you watch him die.” You readied yourself, tracking each step he made and preparing for an attack. The words clawed at something inside you, dragging down your tender heart and leaving your belly full of heat. Rage, unlike you ever felt it before. You knew Azriel thought of himself as nothing more than an Illyrian bastard, a torturer, but hearing it aloud…from someone you hated so deeply… Your power roared to life, surging in your veins, waiting to strike. He would not kill your mate. You would at least die before that happened.

+

Feyre winnowed straight to her mate, the box in hand. “Azriel-” She didn’t know how to form the words, didn’t know how to tell him what they’d found out. Mor jogged to them, while Feyre shared her thoughts.

Rhys went pale. “Mor, winnow back to Velaris. Now.” He ordered, that cold tone of the high lord forcing her will. She looked between them, but left without a word. “We need to find that cave. Winnow to Azriel, I’ll get Nesta and Cassian.” Rhys’s plan become clear in Feyre’s mind as he thought it through. They would find the cave together, and be able to defend and carry out whatever the box unlocked. 

The high lady readied herself, placing the cursed box under her arm. The other hand gripped the dagger Lucien had given her long ago. It had been the only one she carried when leaving the townhome earlier. Rhys gripped her arm before she could disappear. “Be careful.” His tone was deep, and the double meaning of it rang through Feyre’s mind. “I love you. I cant lose you.”

Rhys’ approving stare burned into your back as you stood on the balcony, wings flared. Your Peregryn feathers were a lovely contrast to his dark Illyrian like bat wings. He often muttered his envy about them to you, especially after being intimate. He loved to stroke them and admire the softness and his muttered approvals soothed you to sleep. 

Maybe his approval was coming from the sight of your naked body in the silver moonlight. You felt a swell of heat rush to your cheeks as he approached, his wings also extended. They flared as he reached the open air on the balcony. The shimmering lights of velaris in the snow far, far below. The magic of the House retained the slight wind that blew through, but warmed it instantly. 

“Quite a fancy house for one cruel high lord. I imagine most would think that the Night Court would also be cold.” You remarked, tucking your wings in slightly so he could stand next to you. He tucked in his as well, understanding the sensitivity of such a part being touched. 

Rhysand knew how such a simple touch of a wing could be the undoing of many different feelings. From the pain of them being bent wrong, or pleasure of them being toyed with exactly right. Toying - for research he had called it. Figuring out which form of wing was more sensitive.

“Cruel or no, most of us here have spent far too much time in the cold of Illyrian mountains to settle for less. Azriel usually says if he wasn’t aligned with me, he’d move to the Summer court.” He leaned over the railing, taking in a deep breath of the fresh air. Something in his eyes gleamed, and a small smile appeared. 

“Seeing the master of Shadows in a place so bright would be quite the contrast.” You grinned, gripping the railing tight. The urge to jump off and fly was nearly overwhelming. Your wings extended, craving the cold bite of the wind. Despite being such a small heritage, your instincts were sometimes overwhelming. You felt the corners of your lips fall, the memories of your few cousins falling to enemies during the War coming back.

Rhys tucked his wings in, turning to you. Something like sadness was there in his eyes, making you nervous.  “You may leave when you wish. I only ask that you give me...a warning. So I can have a story ready for my court when you go.” He said too formally, as if he had practiced this. After the months of you visiting as a communication link with Thesan, you knew you would have to leave at some point. But you had yet to hear the order to do so. And you much preferred the scenery of Rhy’s court than the safe harbor home Thesan kept sunny constantly. It was… refreshing. Much like Rhy’s presence. 

“Are you telling me to go?” You nudged him slightly, knowing it’d rattle him. His eyes shot to you, and he nudged you back. “Never. I just… wish you could stay.”

He had more to say than that, and you knew it. “Then why ask me if I need to go?”

“Because the longer you stay the less I think I will be willing to let you go.” He wrapped his arms around you, the evidence of claim apparent through his thin cotton pants. “Even if Thesan is one of my closest allies. I may just have to keep you for myself.” His head lowered to your ear as he said it, his lips grazing your skin. You felt your core tense and heat.

“I dont know what you’re talking about. I am merely a communicator between two courts.” You grinned, nipping his ear. His low growl was anything but agreeing. His hands were on you, slowly palming your sensitive areas, lighting your insides on fire. He gave you a lingering kiss before pulling away. He eyed you suspiciously, seeming to deliberate to himself. 

Then, he snapped and suddenly you were fully clothed, and he was standing on the balcony railing. The silver light painted his hair and wings in a dull blue hue. “I have a different idea for us tonight… if you can keep up that is.” His wild smile told you all you needed to know. He leapt gracefully, before catching the wind below with a fading laugh. You cursed quietly to yourself, hauling your body up to the pillar and sending yourself soaring. 

+

“Dont tell me this is some kind of Illyrian initiation.” You chided, matching his pace as best you could. It was hard to not outpace him as he glided, his enormous wings gliding on the cool air. 

He laughed, banking slightly as you approached the small city below. Nestled into the mountain side along the sea, it didnt seem as harsh as the Illyian camps he had showed you from afar. Your mind flashed to those camps, the tents and the tooth chattering cold. No, this place was much too homey for such a camp. 

“This is… a gallery of sorts. Not many come here, but I thought it would also be nice for you to be able to tell Thesan about such a place.” He slowly began descending as he explained, and indeed the location seemed to have many large ancient looking items outside. 

As soon as you landed you were taken aback. The sight of an enormous, dark stone that took up the majority of the space outside the carved entrance to the gallery. A path had been worn around it, as if the spot had many visitors. You doubted many but Rhys even knew about the place. 

“It’s- it reminds me of you.” You were in awe. The stone glittered in the torchlight, but remained dark where the light wasnt refracted. It was smooth as well, besides the jagged and pointed edges. 

Rhysand turned from the mountain entrance “The rock? Darling just wait until you see inside.” He smiled, waving you over. With a wave of his hand, the door opened, pulling back then sliding away. Faelights slowly hummed to life inside the cavernous space. You couldnt see the entire room but the area must have been enormous. No way to see all of the things held inside in one day. Not even multiple days you were willing to bet. “Priestesses are the only others allowed here besides residents of Velaris, but not many of either ever visit. He explained, sending more faelight into the dark cavern.

“There are a few things in particular I wanted to show you.” He took your hand, guiding you to the right down a large archway. The lights bobbed and followed, casting strange shadows along the uneven cave walls. 

The sound of water flowing at a trickling pace filled the new, smaller room. The sight of the armor before your took your breath away. Ancient, well kept and utterly deadly looking. You felt a thrill of panic, as well as pride at the sight of it. “How-” You stammered, covering your mouth with a trembling hand. 

The white and silver plates were excruciatingly detailed, the sword beside the set a shining silver, as if freshly forged by the sun itself. Thesan had no armor of this quality still available at the Dawn court. The quality, the beauty of such a piece was exquisite. “If Thesan wishes to have this back, please feel free. But let him know that we have only recently acquired it. We have not been hoarding.” Rhys spoke from behind you, his voice soft and patient. 

Memories of being a child and playing with wooden swords flashed into your head. Envisioning such perfect armor like before the War fitting you, guilding you, marking you as the highest of warriors among the Dawn court. 

“W-who is we?” Was all you could manage as you reached out to touch the solid breastplate. Memories of parades, children cheering and high fae clapping as generals in shining armor marched home from the War. Centuries had passed since such armor was needed, thus they began to disappear. 

Rhys took your hand again, rubbing a thumb over yours. “A few high priestesses found it among their… storage. Closer to an abandoned temple but - I had Cassian clean it up for me a few weeks ago.” He chuckled before saying “I almost had to threaten him to get him to give it back to me. He was in awe and wanted to keep it for himself.” 

Your lips curve upwards, heart hammering. You pulled him in quickly for a tight hug. “Thank you.” You said deeply, wishing you could put the thoughts you were having directly into his head. Wishing you could tell him how much this meant. 

He pulled away from you, his callused hands going to cup your face as he pulled you in for a kiss. “Maybe I wont tell Thesan… and I’ll have to come back more often to take a look at the rest of this place.” You bit his lower lip and grinned at his darkened eyes.

“For research purposes only, surely?” He began kissing down the column of your neck, biting playfully.