A/N: This will be my first ever published FF. Like every other fan-person, I've written TONS of FFs. And I spent all of my teens reading, here on , FFs. Now I cannot contain my need to see my OTPs living in my fantasy. So please go easy on me!
Disclaimer: I do NOT own ACOTAR, nor any of the character aforementioned. All of which belong to SJM.
In this AU, all of our favs are mortal.
WARNING: There are some references to ACOWAR, so there is some spoilers.
The Art Gallery
The lights were dimmed. Tonight wasn't about the people in the room. It was about the pieces on the walls. Each piece of art was highlighted along with the small plaque next to it.
Soft music flowed through the room, creating an atmosphere. Paired with the wine the gallery owner swears is called Faerie Wine.
I can't help but fidget, I hated displaying my art. It was like opening my torso, and showing strangers what my heart looks like. It's not that I'm ashamed of my craft, it was just… showing someone your art was like an intimate dance. A slow and soft seduction into someone else's mind.
"Feyre calm down. Everything looks great. And everything is going great." The person standing next to me reassured me.
"Easy for you to say it isn't your shit that's on display." I counter facing my companion. His red hair somehow still vibrant under the lighting. "I really owe your brother a big one for this."
Before I could get another word in he interjected, "half-brother. Eris and I may share a mother, but he is an asshole to his core." Lucien spat.
Shaking my head, "Brother… half-brother… I don't care. What I care about is the fact that Eris stuck his neck out for me. He doesn't have complete control of the company yet. I'm surprised that Eris convinced Beron to fund this."
"Well I heard that another contributor came and threw a lot of money into this shindig to get first dibs on your paintings. Plus you know the Vanserra's. Always hoarding beautiful things. Fine art is no exception."
Lucien has been my friend for years. I had been there when he found out the life-shattering truth about his parentage. How his mother had an affair with her husband's business partner and conceived Lucien. How Beron claimed Lucien by name, then on the eve of his 17th birthday, dropped the bomb that he was a bastard child. Lucien then foresaked his inheritance and sought out his real father.
"Is Helion coming?" I asked sort of hopefully. Helion was Lucien's real father. He was this awesome free spirit with a mind for law. I mean he was one of the smartest man's I knew, always problem solving.
(A/N: I decided Helion's curse-breaking power could translate to problem solving… then I just decided to associate it with being a lawyer… idk)
All Lucien could do was nod his head, his eyes fixed on something on the other side of the room. "Helion will stop by a little later, after Eris has gone."
Speaking of the devil, Eris' path led directly to us. His red hair catching whatever light it could.
"Feyre. Very nice turn out. And I must say, some of these pieces are incredible. Very soulful. Very emotional." Eris said approvingly. He made himself comfortable standing on the other side of me to survey the room.
"Interesting Eris, I didn't know you understood how to feel." Lucien mocked his oldest brother.
Eris slowly turned his head to his brother, and the most wolfish grin spread across his face, "oh little brother, you have no idea what I am capable of."
Lucien broke the eye contact. Eris looked at me, "Feyre, seriously this is awesome. Your work is promising. I, unfortunately, have to leave early. You know… oldest son and all… business. But don't worry too much I have arranged for the gallery owner to introduce you. I also have one of the other contributors coming to give a little speech."
With that he sauntered away.
"Aside from that jerk, this is pretty awesome. I mean I knew your work was good. But I didn't realize that it was this good. You should go around and mingle. Make yourself known." Lucien pushed squeezed my arm before pushing me forward.
It was weird walking around surrounded by your own art. Even weirder hearing people talking about it as you brush pass them.
"The line are so soft. So playful."
"It's the composition that I love."
"This painting, now this is the painting that describes our purpose on this world."
I think I was more so people watching than look at my art. All of a sudden I felt a presence standing next to me.
"You know this is an art show right? You're suppose to be looking at the art. YOU are the only person looking at the people looking at the art." A husky voice startled me.
"Well there's you watching me, watching other people. What does that make you?" I countered.
"I suppose you're right." The stranger replied.
There was silence between me and my friendly stranger, just the sound of soft music. I relented, "I'm observing. I'm an observational person. I want to see what people think about the pieces."
I think I was more so waiting until I heard that negative review of a piece. "I think I'm waiting for someone to say something bad about a painting."
"Well if you're waiting for a bad review then I'll give you one." He cleared his throat, " UGH! This painting behind us is SO derivative." He exclaimed in a haughty Southern Belle accent.
I snorted before throwing my head back to laugh.
Wiping tears from my eyes, I turn around to look at the painting he was talking about. "Ugh you're so right. The color palette is so tacky." I used my most snooty voice. He gave a chuckle in response.
Turning to look at him, I found myself face to face with the most beautiful man ever. He had vibrant violet eyes and soft jet black hair, both of which I catalogued in color and texture.
Shaking the awe from my eyes, "thank you for this, it's sort of been a tense night for me." I smiled up at him.
Without me noticing, he had tensed up.
"You know what we should do?" I shook my head in response. "We should go around the whole gallery and critiquing different pieces." He offered.
I pretended to think about it for a second, "well that does sound exceedingly delightful."
People were shuffling next to us to look at our "derivative" painting.
"Well, if this is the game we are to play tonight, we need to invent our new characters." He waved over a waiter and grabbed two glasses of the Faerie Wine.
Handing one over to me, he began to spin our lovely masks. "Well… I shall be High Lord Rhysand. I will be this debonair gentleman. And you… you shall be my wife - High Lady…" He trailed off.
"Feyre." I said completing my name. "And how is it we are husband and wife?"
"Because we went before the old gods and proclaimed our love!" Rhysand explained.
"Yes, but whoever said that I could love you?" I countered.
"Feyre… you wound me! You took oaths, promising unyielding love!" Rhysand mocked, placing his palm over his beating heart.
Shooting him a glare, "I swear there are times I regret marrying you."
"Feyre darling, it's all part of our game." A grin broke over his face. "If High Lord Rhysand is too much, call me Rhys. I wouldn't want my wife to find my name to be a mouthful." Something twinkled in his eye.
Polishing off my glass and grabbing another from a passing waiter, we took off.
I knew I should have probably told Rhys that I was the artist we were critiquing. I was the master of the pieces we were reviewing - but this was my chance, my opportunity to see what a complete stranger thought of my work.
Rhysand began walking towards another painting, but I grabbed him by the elbow.
Stopping he looked back at me, "you're going in the wrong direction. The artist organized this gallery so you have to start in the back."
His eyebrow raised in question, "I heard someone else talk about it…" I trailed off, not wanting to give myself away.
Leading him to the back, we faced a piece that was almost the same size as the wall.
Rhys frowned, and my heart slowly started to sink. "You know what I want to know?"
I was too scared to answer, "what?"
"When the canvas is this large, how do they paint the middle?"
His question was so innocent I couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"Aside from the stupid question, what do you think about this piece? I think this is called 'Velaris; the City of Starlight'." I wiped away a tear.
Rhysand took a step back, then another, then one final one. He stood motionless staring into the painting. He looked so enticed, he waved over at me. Deciding I want to see what he sees I walk over to him and stand next to him to face the painting.
Looking at my painting, I can't help but feel a swell of pride. Emotion washes over me.
"You know what I think?" Rhys asks me seriously this time. "I think, that if I were to have wings - this is the city I'd want to fly over. Every. Single. Day. Seeing the sun set over the river. Eating dinner with friends and family at one of the local restaurants. Coming home to our little townhouse. Not too small, but something that feels like a home."
For a second I was there, in Valeris, in this tiny little town that came out of my head. And for a split-second, I saw myself standing on the rooftop garden WITH Rhys. I quickly shook my head.
HA! What was I thinking, Rhys was a stranger. A stranger that I met JUST tonight. A stranger that was pretending to be my husband in this game we were playing.
"So good, right?" I broke the silence that had settled between the two of us.
"More than good, amazing. Seriously I really felt like I was there." Rhys stared for another second before finishing his wine.
Rhysand had truly made the night so much better. We would stop and talk about each piece; what we thought it was about (albeit, I knew what they were about or meant), what it made us feel, what it mean to each of us respectively.
We had laughed and drank until we had reached the front of the gallery AKA the end of the exhibit.
At the last painting, a gentleman in the group behind us stopped and turned to us. Their group of three had been the same path as us from the beginning of the exhibit.
He was this tall bald man wearing what seemed to be a new cloak. (A/N: You guys want to guess who is making a guest appearance in this fic?)
"Can I just say something to the pair of you?" His voice sounded like it didn't belong to him. It sounded otherworldly. (A/N: Did you guys guess it?)
"Sure." I answered.
The stranger's hollowed eyes looked us up then down.
"You two would make a great couple." We blinked then looked at each other.
Without hesitating Rhys grabbed my hand and gave it a kiss, "we are a couple. We're married."
The stranger's eyes looked directly at our interlocked fingers. Then turned his head slightly at his companions. The other two, a brother and a sister, snickered behind their hands.
"What seems to be so funny?" Rhys riled a little.
The two stepped up and looked at us the same way their friend had. Up then down.
"You two are funny. There is no possible way that you two are married. But we stand by our friend's earlier statement, you two would make a great couple." The brother of the two replied. "Trust when we say it, the three of us have this sixth sense of these sort of things."
The woman in their group stood a little ways back, just admiring us. Her face was painstakingly beautiful. Atop her head was a silver circlet adorned with a blue stone in the middle. (A/N: How about these two? Wanna guess?)
"Well it was nice meeting you Mr…" Rhys stuck his hand out.
"Suriel." The stranger answered, his eyes fell on Rhys' outstretched hand. (A/N: WHO GUESS SURIEL?! I needed my gossiping buddy in here. If stranger no. 1 is Suriel, who are the other two?)
"First or last?" my voice croaked.
"Doesn't really matter does it my Lady?" Suriel shrugged.
"Well I am High Lord Rhysand. And this beautiful thing is High Lady Feyre." Rhys lied so effortlessly.
Suriel's eyes once again found me. I could feel all of their eyes on me; Rhys', Suriel's, the mystery twins in the background.
Suriel leaned in close - so close I almost took a step back. "Stay with him, High Lady. Keep your High Lord close." Suriel whispered.
With that the group turned and walked away.
"Well that wasn't weird." Rhys said recapturing my hand.
A blush rose on my face as I reflected on what a stranger had said to us.
"Rhys?" I couldn't bring myself to look over at him.
"Hmm?"
Turning to face him, "thank you. For tonight. I really needed this. I've had a really fun time with you."
A smirk found its way onto his face. He managed to lean in close. Close enough that I could smell a slight saltiness that reminded me of the sea. "Now Feyre darling, we aren't done just yet. We have the final piece of this exhibit to enjoy."
Slowly a blush fought its way onto my cheeks because I knew this last painting would be the most intimate one. As I looked at my final masterpiece, I could feel Rhys' breath hick.
I could hear my heart pounding. There in front of us was the painting I had poured my soul into. It was a couple - man and woman - husband and wife - mates for life, standing in front of each other. Their hands intertwined. The painstakingly beautiful man was comprised of infinite night. The inhuman radiance of the woman was comprised of infinite light. A faceless couple sharing their lives… their very beings together.
"Night Triumphant and Stars Eternal" Rhysand's voice dropped to a quiet whisper.
Before either of us could exchange another word, Rhys reached up and wiped away a tear that escaped his eye. "Without sounding too sappy, I think this painting is the true image of soulmates."
Tears began to escape my own eyes, "excuse me. I need to - . I'm sorry." I stuttered before dashing into the crowd.
Peering into the mirror in the bathroom I couldn't help but giggle. In the mirror was this girl with smudged makeup.
I wasn't sure what happened out there. Hearing someone accurately see what my painting for what it was.
Here I was finally displaying my art. Hearing praise for my life's work. Enjoying my big night with a complete stranger.
I managed to wipe the tears from my eyes and fix my makeup as best as I could, before I heard the ring of the microphone.
"Ah… shit the introductions are happening." I rushed to get out of the restroom.
The microphone feedback rang through the gallery once more before the gallery owner stood in the middle of the crowd.
The music seemed to have simmered down. I wanted to get closer to the center before the emceeing starts, I gently begin squeezing my way through the crowd.
"Alright everyone. First I want to thank you guys for coming out tonight. This is a debut exhibit for our artist tonight. I am pleased to announce that nearly every painting on display this evening has already sold. Now before we bring our artist up, we will be hearing from our main contributor tonight. He is a huge fan of our artist and he donated a lot of money tonight just to meet with the star of the evening. Now let's give a big round of applause for Mr. Rhysand!"
By the time I actually break into the front row of the crowd, my pretend husband steps directly into the center. My mouth hangs wide open and I am at a complete loss of words.
Scanning through the crowd his eyes land on me, giving me a quick wink before starting his speech.
"About 3 years ago, I came across a painting. A painting called "The Stars That Listen," it was with this painting that I fell head over heels in love with the artist featured tonight." His voice rang clear through the shushed murmurs in the crowd.
Tears began to run down my cheeks again. I loved all of my paintings, but the first painting I ever sold held a special place in my heart.
But he still had more to say, "as soon as my eyes made contact with that first painting, I knew… that somewhere deep inside my chasm of darkness, this artist was speaking with me. Beckoning me."
My heart started with a flutter, but now it was pounding hard in my chest. His eyes hadn't left mine at all during this speech.
"I guess you could say I became obsessed with this artist. Following her work. Buying whatever painting became available. These painting weren't for my financial gain, although I imagine they would sell for a lot. I bought these paintings for me. As her number one fan, I got to see her work develop and grow. Her artistry change. So when I heard that she was finally having her debut exhibit, I knew I had to finally meet the woman I've been pining over for years."
There was something sparking in his eyes, something that resonated within me. Something shifted, it felt like the universe clicked into place. Rhysand started closing the distance between us.
"Now enough about my boyish crush." The crowd chuckled, "help me in introducing the star of the night! My High Lady Feyre Archeron."
Rhysand gently grasped my hand. Applause erupted from the crowd.
Before relinquishing me, Rhys brushed his lips against the back of my hand and brushed my tears away.
My speech passed by in a blur.
After I finished people stopped to praise me.
Giving empty thank you's, my eyes scanned the crowd.
Breaking away from everyone, I finally find who I am looking for.
"YOU!" I shove him slightly.
His chuckle flutters my heart. "What? You really thought we went through this whole exhibit without me knowing who you are?"
I huff loudly, "well you could have told me!"
His hand wraps around mine again, "what fun would that have been my High Lady?"
A blush creeps back onto my face.
"Well now that the bat's out of the cave…" He leaned in closer.
"How many of my paintings have you really bought?"
"How about this? I take you out to dinner and you come check out my art collection?"
