The Nature of Bargains

by elan0rjoy

Rhysand's POV before, during, and after he called in his bargain with Feyre. Taken from assorted chapters of ACOMAF.

1. The Nature of Bargains

Month I

Cassian had just arrived with a box of liquor so large that it threatened to pull him down as his enormous wings drew him towards the training ring atop the House of Wind. It had long been the place where we-he, Azriel, and I-had taken to going when we wanted to get drunk enough to forget the world. The tradition had started centuries ago, and was probably an idiotic one, given the height and Cassian penchant for throwing down challenges when he was inebriated, but it was too late to give up on tradition now.

He set the box down and whistled when he saw the bottles I'd already taken from the House of Wind's generous wine cellar several stories below. "Is it my birthday?"

I smirked at him. Cassian didn't know why I wanted, needed, to get drunk enough to lose touch with the world tonight. I could have told him and he would have understood, would have been more than happy to help me drink myself into oblivion. And maybe Mor had told him some of the details about Feyre, but she'd sworn that she'd keep everything she knew about the mating bond to herself and she'd kept her word. Even if he did know something, he was keeping his mouth shut and I loved him for it.

I summoned two tumblers and filled them with brandy, handing him one and raising in a toast, "To bastards and half-breeds and-"

A wave of nervousness washed over me so strongly that I forgot the words I'd been about to speak. I had prepared myself for many things to rush through the bond today, but nerves like this hadn't one of them. What came through the bond was not pre-wedding jitters, but the nervous horror that I sometimes felt before a panic attack. Across from me, Cassian was frowning, his hand reaching for the sword strapped to his back.

"Rhys?" I didn't respond right away, the emotions at the other end of the bond were too strong. Cassian set his tumbler down and reached out to grip my shoulder. "Is it her?"

Cassian knew about my connection to Feyre, of course. They all did. This had happened before, sudden waves of sudden and nearly unbearable emotions that came on so strongly that they caught me off guard. Mor was the only one who knew the cause of my behavior when a wave like this hit me and while I was much better at keeping them from affecting me than I had been three months ago. But Cassian knew about the bargain I'd forged between myself and Feyre and understood a little of what was happening when I reacted like this.

I nodded in answer to his question, keeping my focus on the bond, trying to ascertain if Feyre was alright. Guilt, despair, and fear washed over me in waves. And then panic and terror and that horrible trapped feeling that I knew all too well. I hated that she was feeling this now. She should be happy. I wanted her to be happy, even if it wasn't with me. It was her wedding day. She shouldn't be feeling this. She should be overjoyed. Not terrified. Not smothered with fear and guilt so strong it made it hard to breathe. That she was feeling so much pressure and guilt and this unending well of despair now was unconscionable.

Cassian squeezed my shoulder. I reached up to grip his hand, drawing on his strength and support as Feyre's guilt and agony mixed with the thing that lingered deep inside me and threatened to come to life.

"Is she alright?" Cassian's voice seemed far, far away. I tried to focus on it, tried to let it bring me back to the House of Wind and Velaris, but then Feyre was pleading, her voice so loud in my mind that it was almost as if she were standing directly in front of me.

Help me. Help me. Help me.

Just like that, any resolve to allow her wedding to pass without interference disappeared. It was the first time I'd heard her voice in three months and it was so full of panic and despair that I couldn't breathe.

Save me-please save me. Get me out. End this.

Through the bond, I saw a pool of red at her feet and Tamlin's face, moving towards her with worried eyes and a tight mouth. And then...

No.

"I've got to go," I whispered. I'd stepped away from Cassian and winnowed out of Velaris before I had time to think twice about it.

I followed the pull of the bond, allowing it to guide me to her. My strategy pulled itself together in the seconds it took me to find her. It was easy enough, something I'd allowed myself to think about on dark days when I thought I'd go crazy from knowing that she was out there and still hurting. What I would do, where I would take her if I ever decided to call in my bargain. It was never a plan I'd intended on enacting. The Spring Court was already terrified of me, thanks to how I'd raided the manor that awful day when Amarantha had sent me for Tamlin. I could use that to my advantage, get Feyre out of there, and then deal with the consequences she'd most assuredly unleash on me later.

I barely remember to hide my wings and shift my clothes into something more appropriate for a wedding. I hadn't bothered to put a dampener on my power, was too distracted by the pit of fear she'd fallen into, and I when I arrived, the crack of power that announced my presence was loud enough to shake the ground and leave people screaming in its wake. Clouds of night streamed from me, my own fear and anger made manifest, and when they cleared, all I saw was Feyre.

My breath caught and for a moment, I forgot about everything but her face, her beautiful, beloved face as she stared at me, horror momentarily masking her despair and torment. It was the horror that brought me back to myself, to the role I would need to play in order to save her. I straightened the lapels on my jacket, the barest moment to collect myself and shift into that awful role I had to play.

"Hello, Feyre darling."

I heard the shift of weapons sliding loose from their scabbards and the way Tamlin's claws sliced through the air as he and his men prepared to attack. It was maddeningly easy to stay their hands and freeze their bodies as I looked around the garden where we stood, taking in the ribbons and flowers and the gentle glow of fae lights bobbing on the breeze. The Spring Court at its finest, every blossom blooming, every blade of grass a perfect shade of green. My eye caught on the pool of red rose petals that Feyre stood in the center of and I was reminded for the barest moment of her body crumpled and broken in a pool of blood. I struggled to get the image out of my mind.

"What a pretty little wedding…" I murmured, turning to look at her, to remind myself that she was alive and well and had to struggle not to grimace. She was dressed in a gown that reminded me of something that had been baked and frosted more than of a wedding dress. But even the layers and layers of tulle and silk and chiffon couldn't hide how thin she'd become or how pale her face was. I was vaguely aware of the crowd of courtiers who were tripping over themselves in an attempt to flee my presence, but I was more caught up in her dull eyes and the dark circles beneath them to notice or care. I put my hands in my pockets to hide how they trembled with rage at the sight of her so broken.

They'd put her in gloves. Hiding away the ugly reminder of all she'd done in order to save them beneath a layer of silk. I shook my head and clicked my tongue. What had been happening here while I had been trying to force myself to ignore her?

"Get the hell out," Tamlin growled. He'd broken free of my hold on him and he was stalking towards us with a murderous expression on his face.

I didn't move a muscle. My power was stronger than his and he knew it. He couldn't harm me.

"Oh, I don't think so. Not when I need to call in my bargain with Feyre darling." I felt her horror pulse through the bond and ignored it. She had called out for salvation and I was here and if she hated me for it... Well, I'd deal with that later.

"You try to break the bargain, and you know what will happen," I said, the mask of dark amusement that I saved for the Court of Nightmares falling into place as I watched the denizens of the Spring Court stumble and trip over themselves in an attempt to get away from me. I hated playing this part, I truly did. I turned my back on the terrified fairies and looked down at Feyre. "I gave you three months of freedom. You could at least look happy to see me."

She was trembling from head to toe, the fear from before twisting into something else entirely. She was looking at me the way she had Under the Mountain and it was going to kill me. I looked back at Tamlin. "I'll be taking her now."

"Don't you dare," Tamlin growled. He looked ready to tear me to shreds. Good. He should fight for her. She deserved that much at least.

"Was I interrupting? I thought it was over." I looked back down at her and saw her realized that I had heard her through the bond, saw her understand that I knew, I knew she didn't want to marry him. I smiled at her, but there was no warmth in it. "At least, Feyre seemed to think so."

"Let us finish the ceremony-" Tamlin began, bargaining with him already. I had been prepared to fight him, wanted to fight him. Wanted to have the opportunity to tear him into shreds for allowing her to do this to herself. It was a struggle to keep my rage in check, to keep from obliterating the entire damned estate.

"Your High Priestess seems to think it's over too," I said instead. Ianthe had vanished and I was glad for it. Our last encounter had not been pleasant.

Tamlin's claws were already slipping back into his hands as he realized that Ianthe had indeed abandoned him. "Rhysand-"

"I'm in no mood to bargain," I interrupted. I was not the pathetic fool that the High Lord of the Spring Court was. "Even though I could work it to my advantage, I'm sure." I took her elbow, my whole body singing at the contact even as she startled beneath my fingers. "Let's go."

"Tamlin." It was first word she'd said aloud since I'd arrive and it was so full of fear and disbelief. She wanted him to fight for her, to do something, anything to save her from me and he was just standing there.

"Name your price."

Bargaining. Still. Had he learned nothing Under the Mountain? Did he understand the cost of inaction? Pathetic and idiotic.

"Don't bother," I said as I hooked my elbow with hers.

I could feel her shaking, could feel the power in her too-slender body. She could fight me off if she wanted. But all she did was whisper in a broken voice, "Tamlin, please."

"Such dramatics," I muttered, pulling her against me so that I could winnow her out of this ridiculous excuse for a wedding.

Tamlin stayed exactly where he was, unwilling or unable to do anything but watch me leave with his bride. "If you hurt her-"

"I know, I know." Was that the best he could do? I would have burned the world down if someone had tried to take her from me. "I'll return her in a week."

Feyre went still in my arms, her face even paler than before as she watched Tamlin let her go. I wrapped an arm around her waist and held her close. "Hold on."

Her hatred towards me was a palpable thing as we winnowed away. But her fury was also alive and pulsing and so much better than her fear and despair from before that it was bearable. At least she had not disappeared so completely within herself that she was unreachable. It was a relief.

I took her to my palace atop the Court of Nightmares. It was open and airy, entirely the opposite of the Amarantha's court Under the Mountain. I had spent nearly a month sleeping here when I'd first come home. I had needed to see the sky and moon and the stars without walls or glass to keep me from them. It was where I had envisioned myself bringing her when I had daydreamed about calling in the bargain. It was a good place to heal, the impossible openness of the building and the beauty of the surrounding mountains and skies was as close to flying as one could get without actually being in the air.

"Welcome to the Night Court."

I watched her take it in, saw and felt her unadulterated awe and then her confusion. This was not what she'd been expecting. I had spent half a millenia hiding the true nature of the Night Court from the rest of the world and still I had to remind myself that she thought I ruled a land of horrors. It was an easy enough mask to keep in place most of the time, but with her I wanted to let the mask fall away. Her absurdly poofy skirts swished and hissed against the moonstone floor as she turned one way and then the other, her mouth slightly agape.

"This is my private residence," I explained, careful not to let anything I felt show on my face.

When I spoke, she stopped her survey of our surroundings and turned to look at me, a tiny frown between her eyebrows as she scanned me from head to toe. I let her take her time looking me over and tried not to preen too much for her.

As soon as her eyes landed on my lips, she scowled at me. "How dare you-"

I couldn't help it. I snorted at her indignation. "I certainly missed that look on your face." I moved closer to her, drawn to her presence like a moth to the flame. "You're welcome, you know."

"For what?"

I should have known better than to say anything. In spite of the ridiculous wedding dress, in spite of how pale and thin she was, I wanted to hold her. I froze and put my hands into my pockets to keep myself from reaching out and touching her. She didn't want to be here. Even if she didn't want to be married to Tamlin, that didn't mean that she wanted to be with me either. And yet, she had been begging for salvation.

"For saving you when you asked," I said, keeping my voice smooth and light.

"I didn't ask for anything," she snapped immediately.

I looked down at the left hand, only to be reminded that they'd hidden the tattoo I'd given her beneath white silk gloves. Cauldron forbid anyone be reminded of how much she'd willingly sacrificed to be with him on their wedding day, to keep the world safe enough for them to even have a wedding day. I couldn't keep the snarl inside as I reached for her hand and ripped the glove off it. She cringed at my touch and tried to pull away, but I didn't let her go until both gloves were off. I did not want to forget all that she had done.

"I heard you begging someone, anyone, to rescue you, to get you out. I heard you say no."

Her eyes flashed angrily. "I didn't say anything."

I took her left hand into mine again and turned it over so that the eye I'd put on her palm faced us. Some Illyrians thought the All Seeing Eye granted them focus in battle, which is why I'd given it to her in the first place. I was fairly certain that I knew why I could feel, hear and see her and I was fairly certain it had nothing to do with the tattoo. Still, I tapped my finger against it, unable to let her think there was anything more between us than the bargain. "I heard it loud and clear."

"Take me back," she hissed as she pulled her hand away. "Now. I didn't want to be stolen away."

"What better time to take you here?" I asked with a shrug. "Maybe Tamlin didn't notice you were about to reject him in front of his entire court-" She stiffened at that, her grey eyes flashing like quick silver. "-maybe you can now simply blame it on me."

"You're a bastard," she said. "You made it clear enough that had...reservations."

That was putting it lightly, but I didn't argue the point. "Such gratitude, as always."

She glared at me and took a long, deep breath. " What do you want from me?"

That was more of a loaded question that she could possibly realize. I wanted a lot of things from her and I knew it was unlikely that I would ever get any of them. I kept it simple.

"Want?" I asked. "I want you to say thank you, first of all. Then I want you take off that hideous dress. You look…" She looked like a doll that a three year old had dressed. She looked like a present, all tied up with ribbons and lace, waiting to be unwrapped. She looked like she was meant to be so soft and pliable that all it would take was a puff of air to move her. "You look exactly like the doe-eyed damsel he and that simpering priestess want you to be."

"You don't know anything about me," she snapped. "Or us."

"Does Tamlin?" I asked, giving her left hand a pointed smile. "Does he ever ask you why you hurl your guts up every night, or why you can't go into certain rooms or see certain colors?"

I might have gone too far with that. She had frozen in place and was looking at me with such indignant anger. Her eyes sparkled with it and her cheeks regained some of their color. "Get the hell out of my head."

"Likewise," I snapped back, drawing away from her to keep myself from doing something I'd regret later. "You think I enjoy being awoken every night by visions of you puking? You send everything right down that bond, and I don't appreciate having a front-row seat when I'm trying to sleep."

"Prick," was her only retort. The one word held so much anger that it made me laugh aloud. If I wasn't careful, she'd likely punch me. I changed the subject. "As for what else I want from you…" I waved a hand towards the house. "I'll tell you tomorrow at breakfast. For now, clean yourself up. Rest."

I looked at that ridiculous dress, her absurd hairdo and wondered if I should call for Nuala and Cerridwen to help her get herself out of all of it. And then I realized that she hadn't been meant to take the dress off on her own. Tonight, Tamlin would have stripped it from her. The thought made my guts twist. "Take the stairs on the right, one level down. Your room is the first door."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized that I'd just sent her to the room that had belonged to my mother here. They were a sanctuary for her, created by my father specifically for her back in the beginning, when they had thought they were in love. Even years later, she had loved them and had often chosen to stay here rather than in the House of Wind. They hadn't been touched since she'd died, but I liked the idea of Feyre in them.

"Not a dungeon cell?" she asked, mostly out of anger, but then a hint of fear trickled down the bond.

Cold wrapped itself around my gut. "You are not a prisoner, Feyre," I told her. "You made a bargain and I am calling it in. You will be my guest here, with the privileges of a member of my household. None of my subjects are going to touch you, hurt you, or so much as think ill of you here."

In fact, if I had my way, most of them wouldn't even know that she was here at all.

"And where might those subjects be?" she asked, her fear still plainly written on her face.

"Some dwell here-in the mountain beneath us." Another tremor and I reminded myself that all she knew about the Court of Nightmares was that Amarantha had modeled her court Under the Mountain after it. I tried my best to assure her and assuage her fears. "They're forbidden to set foot in this residence. They know they'd be signing their death warrant." I looked her in the eye and prayed she'd believe me when I said, "Amarantha wasn't very creative. My court beneath this mountain has long been feared, and she chose to replicate it by violating the space of Prythian's sacred mountain So, yes: there's a court beneath this mountain-the court your Tamlin now expects me to be subjecting you to. I preside over it every now and then, but it mostly rules itself."

She was still afraid, perhaps even more so than when I'd started speaking. "When-when are you taking me there?" I felt her panic rising up at the thought, her terror at the thought of going back underground.

"I'm not," I promised, choosing my words carefully. "This is my home, and the court beneath it is my...occupation, as you mortals call it. I do not like for the two to overlap very often."

Her eyebrows lifted and I had to fight back a grin. "You mortals?"

"Should I consider you something different?" I asked, delighted that she'd risen to the challenge and glad to sense that her fear was beginning to dissipate.

But she reined herself back in, unwilling to play any games with me. "And the other denizens of your court?"

"Scattered throughout, dwelling as they wish." It was a vague enough answer to irritate her a little, but it wasn't a lie either. "Just as you are now free to roam where you wish," I added, wondering if she'd take me up on the offer.

"I wish to roam home," she snapped back and I laughed aloud as I walked away.

"I'm willing to accept your thanks any time, you know," I called, unable to leave without having the last word.

I should have known better. She was angry. I could feel it through the bond and my words were like a spark to a tinder. I'd barely finished speaking when something hit the back of my head hard enough to make me gasp in pain and surprise. I whirled around to find her armed with...a shoe in her hand, one of her dainty silk slippers, ready to throw it at me again. Fury rippled down the bond. Good. She deserved to be angry.

"I dare you," I growled through clenched teeth. This was the girl I knew. This was the woman I loved. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks flushed, her body taunt with unharnessed energy. And this time, she did play with me. The shoe went flying so fast that I barely had enough time to grab it before it crashed into my face. My hand stung. She was damn strong to be able to throw something that hard. I stared her down as I clenched my fist around the piece of silk and beading and dissolved it into stardust.

I looked at her again, this time with analytical eyes, the way I might size up an opponent. Her body, beneath all that lace and silk, was strong. Her skin glowed ever so slightly, power thrumming in her veins Her eyes were sharp and her aim had been deadly.

"Interesting," I said and then turned around and left before I did something that would really piss her off.

I heard her exhale in an angry huff and then slip down the stairs as I made my way to my favorite alcove. I needed a drink and then I needed to come up with a plan. But I most definitely needed a drink first. I tossed open the curtains that separated the alcove from the rest of the palace and nearly jumped out of my skin when I laughing female voice said: "So that went well."

Mor. I'd forgotten that I'd told her centuries ago that she could stay here whenever she had business in the Court of Nightmares. Her presence had never been unwelcome to me, for all I griped about her annoying cheerfulness. I loved my cousin and was happy to give her a refuge from her childhood home. Besides, it was nice to have someone else in this enormous place.

Well, it usually was.

She was sitting in my favorite chair, tossing the first shoe that Feyre had thrown at my head from one had to the other. She gave me a wicked grin. "You called in your bargain? I thought you were going to let her live in peace and just mourn her loss for the rest of your life."

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure that Feyre had gone to her room and wouldn't overhear us before I sank down into the chair across from her and sighed. "She was begging for help. And she needs it. I thought that if I left her alone, she'd be happy, Mor, but she's not."

"Have they gotten better for you?" Mor asked, leaning forward to pass me a glass of wine she'd summoned.

"Yes," I said and it was mostly the truth. I didn't elaborate further and Mor didn't push me.

"So what are you going to do now?" she asked, setting the shoe down on the table beside her.

I stared at the shoe. It didn't even have a real sole, but it had hurt like hell when it hit the back of my head. Now, it looked innocent and terribly incongruous to the rest of its surrounding now that it had been taken out of the Spring Court. If Feyre was strong enough to wield that shoe like a weapon, I wondered what else she could do.

"Now," I said, looking back to Mor, "we convince her to help us stop the war."

---

Month II

I showed an admirable amount of patience in that I waited until midmorning before I winnowed into the Spring Court a month later. Admirable because I hadn't gone to check on her in person over the last month, even though I wanted to desperately. Admirable because I hadn't sent Mor or Azriel to look in on her and make sure she was still alive. Admirable because I hadn't winnowed in when that heart-stopping spike of pure terror had shot through the bond earlier in the month, followed by a glimpse of what looked like blood splattered on a wall, and then faded back into nothing. Admirable because I was half afraid that I'd arrive and find Feyre on the brink of death, that was how quiet she'd been this past month.

I didn't bother winnowing into the courtyard, or even to the front door. I knew where the estate's living quarters were. It was nothing to break through his wards, his pathetic attempts to keep her safe. I barely felt the twinge as my own magic allowed me to slip right through them. I appeared in the middle of a hallway, leaning against a wall across from where two sentries were posted in front of a door.

"Good morning." I did my best imitation of Mor's most chirpy voice. It may have come out less inviting and enthusiastic than she would have done. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

One of them shouted in surprise while the other fumbled for his sword. Before he had a chance to draw it, Tamlin was there. He'd winnowed from wherever he'd been to directly in front of the door, claws out and teeth bared. When he saw who the threat was, he didn't relax his fighting stance.

"How did you get in here?" he snarled. He turned to the sentries. "Go check the wards and the perimeter. Now!"

The guards were only too happy to comply, scurrying off like frightened mice down the hall and away from me.

"Is this Feyre's room then?" I asked, ignoring his question. "I thought I smelled her."

His growl in response shook the walls. "Get out."

"Not until I have what I came for," I said, keeping my voice low and calm in the face of his rage.

It had no effect on his temper. "I'll say it one last time-"

"And what will you do after that, Tamlin? Lock me up? Torture me? Kill me? I'd like to see you try." I took a step closer to him and a slow, wicked smile spread itself across my lips. "I taught you everything you know about fighting, Tamlin, but don't think for one second that I showed you everything I know."

I thought he might try to anyway, but the door behind him swung open and we both froze. Feyre stood on the threshold wearing nothing but a blanket. The smile died on my lips as I took her in. She was thin, even more so than she'd been last month, and the blanket wrapped around her did nothing to hide it.

"Feyre," I thought I'd be relieved to see her after a month of agonizing silence, but what I saw was horrifying. Dark purple ringed her empty eyes and her loose hair hung lank and tangled around her. I could see every bone in her neck and shoulders above where she'd wrapped the blanket around her. I could even see the bumps and ridges of her sternum and the map of blue veins beneath her nearly translucent skin. Icy cold rage wrapped itself around me and it took a great effort to keep the shadows at bay as I stared at her. "Are you running low on food here?"

"What?" Tamlin snapped.

It took all of my willpower to resist snapping his damned neck right there. Instead, I reached out for her, not caring that she was only wearing a blanket, not caring that she reeked of sex and Tamlin's scent, not caring about anything except getting her out of her. "Let's go."

Tamlin stepped between us, his teeth still bared, but the claws gone. "Get out," he snarled again, pointing towards the stairs behind him. Behind him, Feyre flinched in response to his display of temper. "She'll come to you when she's ready."

I felt Feyre's eyes on me, the weight of her gaze as she watched to see what I would do next. I put on an expression I'd borrowed from Amren more than three centuries ago, gloriously bored and slightly annoyed and reached out to brush a fleck of dust off of his sleeve. I felt the glimmer of Feyre's admiration, heard her, finally, as she thought about how she would have responded to Tamlin's teeth being inches from her throat. Her shields were down and I took a quick glance through her memories before I spoke.

"No, you wouldn't have," I said in response to her thoughts. "As far as your memory serves me, the last time Tamlin's teeth were near your throat, you slapped him across the face."

"Shut your mouth," Tamlin said, moving so that I couldn't see Feyre past his wide shoulders. "And get out."

I conceded a step so that I could see her behind him again. She was so painfully thin, so dejected. I put my hands in my pockets to hide how they clenched into fists. "You really should have your wards inspected. Cauldron knows what other sort of riffraff might stroll in here as easily as I did." I caught her eye over his shoulder. "Put some clothes on."

She finally gave me a little snarl of her own and disappeared back into her room, Tamlin hot on her heels. He slammed the door behind him hard enough to knock a painting off the wall. I leaned against the wall opposite her door again and focused on calming myself down. I had been prepared for a lot of things today, but seeing her so pale, so thin, so empty, had not been one of them. Where the hell was Lucian? Tamlin was a Cauldron-damned idiot, but Lucian had braved far worse things than Tamlin's wrath for Feyre's sake Under the Mountain. Why hadn't he done anything, said something?

I felt her beyond the closed door. She was still barely there, but proximity strengthened the bond between us. I felt more than heard her speak, felt the tiny glimmer of hope as she asked him about the war. Felt her desire to be a part of something bigger than herself. Felt that desire and hope flicker out and die as Tamlin's voice rumbled from behind the door, his words low and fast. Felt her resignation as she leaned against him and breathed in his scent. I coughed loudly and, to my surprise, she walked out the door a moment later.

She wore the same turquoise and gold clothes she'd left in last month and they were shockingly loose on her. The pants hung low on her hips, revealing more of her stomach than it was meant to and the shirt gaped over her stomach and chest where it had laid flat against her skin last month. She caught me looking at her and I saw her eyes narrow, like they did when she was about to snap something insulting at me. But a moment later the spark in her eyes died.

I reached for her, newly desperate to get her out of this Mother forsaken place, only to have Tamlin shove my hand away.

"You end her bargain right here, right now, and I'll give you anything you want. Anything."

It was the smartest thing he'd said to me in years, possibly decades. And the stupidest. An offer like that would allow me enslave his people or take over his lands. Feyre was my mate, I was certain of it, but even that would not keep me from protecting my people to the best of my ability, from throwing out bargains so foolishly.

"Are you out of your mind?" Feyre snapped, and, if possible, she went even paler than she'd been before. But Tamlin didn't take his eyes off of me.

"I already have everything I want," I said, stepping around Tamlin and taking Feyre's hand. It was time to leave.

Her fingers felt brittle and ice cold in mine and her mind didn't react to being winnowed with so much as a gasp, unlike the first time when she'd shrieked and shook as we traveled back to the Night Court.

"What the hell happened to you?" I asked before we'd even fully materialized.

"Why don't you just look inside my head?" she asked, her voice dull and tired. She let go of my hand and moved away from me, her shoulders stooped and her face blank.

"Where the fun in that?" I asked with a wink, trying to get her ire up, to elicit something. She just looked at me with those dull, sad eyes. I tried again. "No shoe throwing this time?"

She held my gaze for a long moment, and then turned towards the stairs that led to her room. No sneers, no smiles, not even a snarl. It was like talking to a post. An incredibly skinny post.

"Eat breakfast with me," I said, a note of desperation creeping into my voice. I couldn't let her go, not like this. Not without some sort of reaction.

She turned back to me, "Don't you have other things to deal with?"

I did. I had been useless with worry over her for most of the month, even if no one besides Amren realized it. I shrugged, "Of course I do. I have so many things to deal with that I'm sometimes tempted to unleash my power across the world and wipe the board clean, just to buy me some damned peace." A tiny glimmer of a reaction to that flickered in her eyes-fear and a touch of awe. I gave her a grin and bowed exaggeratedly, hoping to get something more from her, even if it was just a little. "But I'll always make time for you."

The words weren't a lie. Even if I wasn't her mate and didn't love her so much that it could make my chest ache, I owed her everything. I knew that whatever she asked of me, I would do and gladly. I wondered if she knew realized it though.

She didn't react, just gestured to the alcove where we had dined the last time she was here. I lead the way, noticing how she walked beside me instead of ten paces behind me as she had last month. It wasn't that she wasn't afraid of me anymore, it was that she simply didn't care. She didn't say another word as we walked. There was something I wanted, needed, to know.

"I felt a spike of fear this month through our lovely bond." I began, working to keep my voice even and light. "Anything exciting happen at the wondrous Spring Court?"

I saw the memories flash through her mind, saw the explosion of paint and wood, saw Tamlin's enraged face, and the protective bubble she'd instinctively made around herself. But she only said, "It was nothing."

I didn't know what pissed me off more, her defensive lie, because it had sure as hell been something or the fact that it had happened in the first place. If she hadn't had those powers, if her instincts hadn't been able to protect her...He could have hurt her, killed her.

She glanced in my direction and the rage must've been apparent enough on my face because she said, "If you know, why even ask about it?"

The words poured out of me. "Because these days, all I hear through that bond is nothing. Silence. Even with your shields up rather impressively most of the time, I should be able to feel you." I took a deep breath, tried to steady my rage and fear and worry. "And yet I don't. Sometimes I'll tug on the bond only to make sure you're still alive." I wondered if she knew how often I did it, if she'd felt me at all over the last month. "And then one day, I'm in the middle of an important meeting when terror blasts through the bond. All I get are glimpses of you and him-and then nothing. Back to silence." It had been the worst moment I'd experienced since I'd left the Court Under the Mountain. "I'd like to know what caused such a disruption."

She piled food onto her plate and, without looking at me, said "It was an argument, and the rest is none of your concern."

She was my concern, every single thing that happened to her, that came out of her mouth, every breath felt like it was tied to my own. "Is it why you look like your grief and guilt and rage are eating you alive, bit by bit?"

She didn't look up from her plate. "Get out of my head."

"Make me. Push me out." I wasn't angry, not with her. But I was desperate for some sort of a reaction. "You dropped your shield this morning-anyone could have walked right in."

She looked up at me finally and held my gaze for a long, tense moment, like she was contemplating rising to the challenge. And then instead asked, "Where's Mor?"

I nearly shot out of my seat and upended the table. I just wanted something, anything. I felt her bracing herself across the table and, just like that, the fire was gone. "Away. She has duties to attend to."

She lowered her attention back to her food and began to eat, shoveling food into her mouth like she was actually as starved as she looked. I let her eat in silence for a while before asking, "Is the wedding on hold then?"

She spoke around a mouthful of eggs, still not looking up, "Yes."

"I expected an answer more along the lines of, 'Don't ask stupid questions you already know the answer to," or my timeless favorite, 'Go to hell,' " I said. Still, she kept her eyes on the food in front of her, reaching out to grab a tartlet from the platter in front of her.

I fought to keep my emotions in check. I didn't know who I was more angry with, myself for returning her to that damned place after I saw how badly she looked last month, or Tamlin for allowing this to happen to her and not helping her at all.

"Did you give my offer any thought?" I asked, trying a different tactic to see if it'd do something, anything.

She didn't say anything for a long time, just kept stuffing her mouth with food. I let myself hope that she'd say yes, even though I expected that she would not. Maybe if she felt like she had a purpose and a place, she could start to recover. I knew that it was unlikely that Tamlin would allow her to help with anything, much less the planning of a war, especially after hearing the conversation that had occured between them earlier. But even if all she did was work while she was here, it would something. Besides, if she was as strong as I suspected she was, I needed her. Prythian needed her.

Finally, once her plate was clean and she was piling more sliced pieces of fruit onto it, she said, "I'm not going to work with you."

I had suspected as much, I reminded myself. "And why, Feyre, are you refusing me?"

She still wouldn't look at me when she spoke. "I'm not going to be a part of this war you think is coming. You say I should be a weapon, not a pawn-they seem like the same to me. The only difference is who's wielding it."

"I want your help, not to manipulate you." The words came out harsher than I'd intended, but the emotion on my behalf finally made her lift her head.

"You want my help because it'll piss off Tamlin."

That...was to be expected. I'd said and done a lot Under the Mountain to get her to believe the role I had to play. I should have known that she'd see things that way, given her experiences.

"Fine," I didn't like it, but I could live with that. For now anyway. "I dug that grave myself, with all I did Under the Mountain. But I need your help."

I waited for her to ask me why, for her curiosity to get the better of her. I knew she had it in her. But she didn't say a word, just looked at me.

"I was a prisoner in her court for nearly fifty years," I began, struggling to keep my voice level and quiet. I hadn't talked about what happened Under the Mountain with anyone since I'd come back, not really. "I was tortured and beaten and fucked until only telling myself who I was, what I had to protect, kept me from trying to find a way to end it." I was on the verge of begging now and I didn't care. There was too much at stake. "Please-help me keep that from happening again. To Prythian."

For the barest moment, I felt her responding to my words, felt the ache that bloomed in response to it, the recognition she felt as my words mirrored what she felt in her own heart. And then I felt the veil drop back into place.

She turned her attention back to the plate in front of her and I didn't say another word to her. I tried to eat, but the food tasted like sawdust. When she was finished, she stood and went to her room. She didn't emerge again.

---

Month III

My day had gone remarkably well.

Mor and I had spent most of the week dealing with some slight unrest in the Court of Nightmares, but enough had been resolved that I felt comfortable leaving the rest in her capable hands. We were having a well deserved and quite tasty lunch before I went back to Velaris. I had spent too long away from my city and was happy at the thought of returning to it. A good day indeed.

Until a wave of fear and panic and rage so strong it nearly knocked me off my feet came through the bond. I froze in place, stopping mid sentence as I tried to determine what was wrong. Was she having a nightmare? It was late in the afternoon. She'd never startled me with a nightmare in the afternoon before.

A flood of claustrophobia came through the bond. I could barely breathe. Trapped. The word repeated over and over in my head. I was Under the Mountain again. I was alone and afraid and more helpless than I'd ever been and I couldn't breathe. The flood of emotion was overwhelming and all consuming and I was going to die here…

"Rhysand!"

Mor's voice cut through the terror like a blade and I was back in my own body again. The winter sun was streaming through the windows. Outside, I could hear the wind whistling across mountaintops and tiny birds chirping in the trees. I'd dropped to my knees and she was next to me on the ground, her eyes steady as they peered into mine. I was safe. I was on top of the mountain, Mor at my side. I was safe.

But Feyre wasn't.

I got to my feet, in control of my body and my thoughts once again. I could still feel her incapacitating fear through the bond, but I could act. She was trapped and alone and afraid, but I wouldn't let her stay that way.

"Feyre's in trouble," I said and the words pressed down on me, threatening to overwhelm me again. "We need to get to the Spring Court."

Mor nodded solemnly, her eyes sober, the conversation we'd been having about trade routes forgotten. She grabbed my hand and I winnowed us directly to the heart of Spring Court. By habit, we materialized at the giant oak tree in the courtyard and I could hear her screaming from there. Servants and sentries were pouring out of the house, fleeing so quickly they were tripping over themselves, much as they had done when I'd crashed the wedding. It took me all of two seconds to lunge for the house, but Mor stood in my way, her hands on my shoulders, holding me back with all her strength.

"Rhys, you can't," she said through gritted teeth as I pushed against her. "Be smart."

She was right. We didn't know the threat. My actions could end up hurting her further if I just burst in there. I made myself be calm, but it was an effort with Feyre's screams echoing in my ears and her terror squeezing itself ever more tightly around my heart. When she was sure I wouldn't bolt, Mor let me go and we both turned to survey the manor. It was a strange scene, the flowers in the garden blooming and bright, a gentle spring breeze blowing their scent across bright green fields, and then Feyre's screams filling the air as the Spring Court's fey fled. In addition to the normal wards, it glistened with a sheen of magic that coated every door frame and window. Tamlin had done this to her. I couldn't sense his presence anywhere on the estate. The miserable bastard had locked her in the house and left.

"It's Tamlin's magic," Mor said, confirming what I saw. Her voice was tight. "You can't go get her without starting a war."

She was right, of course. The bargain was one thing, but it had only been a week since I'd returned Feyre. To take her now, even if it was for her protection, would be an act of war. And while I'd told Cassian and Azriel to prepare for a war, I didn't want to start one if I could help it, even for Feyre's sake.

"Can you take the shield down?" Mor asked, stalking towards the house with a predatory grace. I understood her intention immediately, and with a flick of my fingers, night ensconced the house. When it cleared away a moment later, all of Tamlin's shields and wards were gone with it.

"Meet me in the Summer Court," was all she said to me before she sprinted inside, a golden blur.

I knew she'd have to take the guards out on her own and then take Feyre across another border before we could bring her home. And I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mor would be able to do it easily. She was incredibly strong and there had been a righteous fire in her eyes that would terrify even the most hardened soldier. She would not leave without Feyre.

I felt it, the desperate pang of fear that pierced through the rest when Mor's hands gripped Feyre's shoulders. I nearly was sick when I heard the thought in my mind. Amarantha. And then a moment later, the calm as she realized she was being carried by Mor.

I knew it, and yet I stayed rooted in place until I saw Mor emerge from the house. They were both wrapped in darkness and shadows, only the brightness of the sun glinting off of Mor's gold hair visible as she carried Feyre out of that damned house. She caught my eye from across the courtyard and nodded before she took off running.

I winnowed to the Summer Court to wait for them. I knew where Mor would go. There were only a few places along the border that wouldn't be guarded. I shuddered at the thought of Feyre underground for even the briefest of moments, but knew she was as safe as she could possibly be with Mor. Mor was strong and powerful and she had been a prisoner once. She would not allow Feyre to become one again.

I paced outside the cave's Summer Court entrance, felt the stab of fear as Mor entered the cave with Feyre, and then…

And then they were in front of me.

Well, the darkness was in front of me. It was Feyre's fear made manifest, I realized. I had woken up wrapped in that same darkness enough times in these past months to recognize it for what it was. And Feyre had it wrapped around her like a blanket. I growled and the darkness that engulfed her disappeared.

"I did everything by the book," Mor said as she approached me. Her hair was a windswept tangle and her clothes were burnt in places and frozen in others, as were Feyre's. I pulled Feyre out of Mor's arms and cradled her close. Her fear was still a living thing that threatened to break her into a thousand pieces. She was so thin that I had to gentle my hold on her body for fear that I'd crush her. She looked up at me without seeing me, her eyes empty and I felt her gasping for breath, like her lungs were being crushed.

"Then we're done here," I said and we winnowed back to the Night Court.

I wrapped Feyre in every bit of comfort that the night could provide. I poured all the love I felt for her into the starlight skating across her skin, the soft evening breeze weaving in her hair, the moonbeams caressing her cheeks, and the warmth and contentment of the last moments of consciousness before sleep. She was unconscious by the time we arrived at my palace above the Court of Nightmares. I brought her to one of the little alcoves that overlooked the mountains and the sky that I knew she favored and laid her on a couch there. Mor followed us silently.

"What happened?" I asked.

Mor told me in quick, soft words about finding her in the center of the foyer, ensconced in a cloud of darkness so bleak and empty that there was just a black hole where she lay on the ground. Only a few of the sentries and one serving woman had remained. Mor had taken the sentries out quickly and easily, but the servant had stood between Mor and Feyre, willing to die before she let anyone touch her mistress.

"I told her I was there to help and she was surprisingly pliant after that," Mor said with a shake of her head. "She may be the only person in the Spring Court who retains an iota of my respect."

"Tell Azriel to watch the Spring Court. I want to know the instant Tamlin returns and what he does when he finds out she's gone." I told Mor without taking my eyes off of Feyre's face. "Tell Cassian to have all his sentries on high alert until I give the order to stand down. And have Amren check all the wards. Twice." I brushed a lock of hair off of Feyre's cheek and let my hand linger there for a moment. "Once she wakes, we'll meet and discuss how to move forward. If anyone has word of any kind of threat, I want to know immediately."

"Anything else?" Mor's voice was crisp and calm and I finally tore my gaze away from Feyre's face long enough to look Mor in the eye.

"Thank you," I breathed, my chest suddenly tight. "Thank you for saving her."

She smiled down at me, her eyes bright with emotion. "Of course," she said lightly, leaning down to let a hand trail along Feyre's pale cheek. "I would have done it regardless." I knew she was speaking the truth, not because Feyre was my mate, or because she'd saved Prythian, but because Mor understood what it was like to be trapped in your own home. She gave my shoulder a quick squeeze and then she was gone.

I made Feyre as comfortable as possible, summoned pillows and blankets and then thought about how even the weight of blankets on top of me still could make me feel smothered after all these months and sent them back. I smoothed the mess of spring green chiffon that made up her skirts so that her legs weren't wound up in them and tried to untangle her long hair from around her neck and shoulders.

Her collarbones jutted out too far, the planes of her cheekbones sharp enough to slice through the air, her eyes sunk back into her head and ringed with dark purple. Her hair was lank and had lost its golden sheen. And I couldn't get the sight of her blank, empty eyes staring unseeingly up at me out of my mind. I lightly brushed a finger along the dark bruises beneath her eyes and shuddered. She had nearly been a ghost a week ago, but this...How could seven days wreck such changes on her?

I shouldn't have let her go back. I had watched her waste away month to month...I shouldn't have taken her back last. It would have been better to risk war and her wrath than to allow her to slowly kill herself like this.

How could he have done it? He loved her. I had seen it Under the Mountain and in the days since. He was willing to kill for her. Had killed for her. He'd watched her die and yet, he had allowed her to destroy herself like this and had done nothing to stop it.

I gritted my teeth and looked out towards the mountains. The sun was setting. Tamlin might be returning to the manor soon, could be discovering that she was gone even now. If he chose to ignore the laws and declare war, I would not regret it. Saving her was worth it. Even if she woke up and demanded to be returned to him, it was worth it to know that she was out of that house for now.

I sank into one of the armchairs near her couch and stared out at the stars as they began to appear one by one while the sun sank further behind the mountains. There was a part of me that was afraid she'd wake up and hate me for taking her away, even after being locked up like a prisoner in her own home. And an even bigger part of me was afraid of the fact that I could deny her nothing. If she woke and wanted to go back to Tamlin, I would take her back. It would kill me to do it, but I would. This time, I would not keep my opinions regarding her wellbeing to myself though. I would beat it into Tamlin's head. I beat it into all of them if I had to.

I brooded like that for most of the night, counting her breaths, watching the stars. I retreated so far into my thoughts that I didn't even notice how the stars began to fade as the sun rose until I heard her swallow behind me.

She was awake, and looked even more frail and broken in wakefulness than she had asleep. Her eyes were dull, but at least she didn't look angry at me.

"What happened?" she asked and I heard her thoughts, the unspoken question forming in her mind.

"You were screaming," I didn't like remembering the sounds of her screams and how I'd been unable to do anything to save her. Again. "You also managed to scare the shit out of every servant and sentry in Tamlin's manor when you wrapped yourself in darkness and they couldn't see you."

I didn't think it was possible, but she went even paler. "Did I hurt any-"

"No," I said immediately, cutting her off. The relief on her face made my heart ache for her. "Whatever you did, it was contained to you."

"You weren't-"

I knew where she was going with this one. "By law and protocol, things would have become very complicated and very messy if I had been the one to walk into that house and take you. Smashing the shield was fine, but Mor had to go in on her own two feet, render the sentries unconscious through her own power, and carry you over the border to another court before I could bring you here. Or else Tamlin would have free rein to march his forces into my lands to reclaim you." I didn't mention that he still might regardless of the law. "And as I have no interest in an internal war, we had to do everything by the book."

She absorbed this information quietly, and then, "When I go back…" she trailed off and looked away for a moment.

I tried to be as diplomatic as I could. Tried not to let how much it would kill me to send her back show on my face. "As your presence here isn't part of our monthly requirement, you are under no obligation to go back." I nearly didn't add the last bit, and the words cost me. "Unless you wish to."

She was quiet for a long time. Quiet and still and pale. I wanted to reach out across the bond and offer her whatever small strength or peace I could, but didn't want to invade her privacy.

At last, she finally spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, "He locked me in that house."

My wings itched along my back, power fueled by rage coursing through my veins. "I know. I felt you. Even with your shields up-for once.

She looked me in the eye, my sweet, sad, brave girl and said "I have nowhere else to go."

"Stay here for however long you want. Stay here forever, if you feel like it." The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them, but I meant every single one.

"I-I need to go back at some point."

Of course she'd feel that way, even if she owed them nothing. But I wouldn't keep her here against her will. Couldn't do that to her. "Say the word, and it's done."

I watched those words sink in, watched her contemplate what going back would mean. A shadow crossed her face and I changed the subject, if only to chase the shadow away. "I made you an offer when you first came here: help me, and food, shelter, clothing...All of it is yours."

She frowned and I rushed to amend the words. "Work for me. I owe you, anyway. And we'll figure out the rest day by day, if need be."

She slowly took in the words and then looked out towards the mountains, her contemplation and concern on her face. And then, after a few moments, resolve tightened her features. "I'm not going back." She swallowed, but her voice came out rough. "Not-not until I figure things out."

Feyre retreated back into her thoughts and this time, I could hear bits and pieces of them. So much hurt and anger and confusion and fear. Enough to make me ache. She was so pale, sitting there in the weak warmth of the dawn, her tattered green dress making her seem even paler, even more frail.

I summoned a mug of tea for her. Peppermint, licorice and chamomile, the kind of tea my mother used to make for me and my sister when we small. She'd always said that tea made any situation better. "Drink it."

She accepted the mug and took a long sip. I turned my face back towards the mountains and let her have a some time to collect herself, to allow the tea to comfort her. I monitored every sip, every exhalation and was surprised when she broke the silence between us.

"The darkness-is that...part of the power you gave me."

I thought of the darkness that had covered her, the fear made manifest that had consumed her whole. It was precisely like the kind that plagued me during nightmares. But that would be too much to tell her right now. "One would assume so."

She finished off her tea. "No wings?"

I considered this for a moment. "If you inherited some of Tamlin's shape-shifting, perhaps you can make wings of your own."

And then the flood of questions came. "And the other High Lords? Ice-that's Winter. That shield I once made of hardened wind-who did that come from? What might the others have given me? Is-is winnowing tied to any of you in particular?"

I thought about it. High Lords did not like to flaunt their unique powers. I didn't like to think about how some of them would react if they knew she possessed some of their power. "Wind? The Day Court, likely. And winnowing-it's not confined to any court. It's wholly dependent on your own reserve of power-and training. As for the gifts you got from everyone else...That's for your to find out, I suppose."

"I should have know your goodwill would wear off after a minute."

I chuckled. It was good to hear an emotion in her voice, even if it was annoyance. I rose from my chair and stretched. All my tension and worry were knotted in my shoulders and down my back and I ached as though I had spent the day before training with the Illyrians. Speaking of which, I needed to tell Cassian, Azriel and Amren what Mor and I had done yesterday, and see if Tamlin was planning on going to go to war. Besides, she seemed like she needed space. "Rest a day or two, Feyre. Then take on the task of figuring out everything else. I have business in another part of my lands; I'll be back by the end of the week."

She didn't respond and I took that as my cue to leave her. I was almost out of the alcove when she took a deep breath and blurted "Take me with you."

I stopped mid-stride and turned to face her. "You should rest."

"I've rested enough," she said as she got to her feet. For a moment, I thought she'd faint, but then two spots of color bloomed on her pale cheeks and she steadied herself as she said "Wherever you're going, whatever you're doing-take me a long. I'll stay out of trouble. Just...Please."

I looked at her, taking in the desperation in her eyes, the way her shoulders were already slumped, as if she expected me to say no. My love, my mate. I was certain of it. I couldn't leave her behind. But I also couldn't bring her with me without making sure she understood how important the safety of Velaris was.

I closed the distance between us and looked her in the eye. "If you come with me, there is no going back. You will not be allowed to speak of what you see to anyone outside of my court. Because if you do, people will die-my people will die. So if you come, you will have to lie about it forever; if you return to the Spring Court, you cannot tell anyone there what you see, and who you meet, and what you will witness. If you would rather not have that between you and-your friends, then stay here."

She debated, but I knew there was no choice for her. Knew that my city was calling to her, singing to her blood, even as she made her decision. "Take me with you. I won't tell anyone what I see. Even-them."

I looked at her, saw the edge of desperation, the panic at the thought of being left alone, saw the hope and the promise in her eyes. I couldn't wait to introduce her to the rest of my Inner Circle. "We leave in ten minutes. If you want to freshen up, go ahead."

She flushed slightly, but didn't move from her spot. "Where are we going?"

I couldn't keep the grin off of my face. She would finally get to see my city. "To Velaris-the City of Starlight."