Here it is! I'm sorry it took literally forever to write, but I'm kind of focusing on my other story right now. Sorry that I changed from present to past tense, this is easier for me.

Feyre

My fire died down as I grew tired. I had just found Rhys again… had just gotten away from Tamlin… and then I was trapped again, in a new cage. There was a slight shimmer in front of me, and Beron winnowed into the room. I growled at him, and fire burst into the room. He merely laughed.

"You received that little gift from me. Did you really think you could defeat me with it? Besides," he sniffed, and gestured at the newly appeared circle of red marks around him, "I am warded from your magic. So really, you'll just have to shut up and listen, won't you?" I growled at him, and he frowned. "Manners, subject, manners."

"Subject?"

"Why yes, subject. You are merely a science experiment. Now, what would happen if you were to have children… isn't that a curious question?"

I looked at him in disgust.

"What makes you think I won't just winnow out?"

Beron scoffed. "I've heard of your inability… it seems to be the only thing you can't master." He flicked his hand, and a plate of salad appeared on the floor. "Eat up!" He grinned, and vanished. I slammed my fist into the wall. I drew it back, cursing, as my knuckles were covered in blood. I looked at the wall, and there was a barely discernible dent in the wall. I flicked my hand, and watched as the salad went up in flames and the silver plate slowly melted into the ground.

I sat against the wall, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, I must have fallen asleep, because I heard a loud noise, and opened my bleary eyes to see one of Beron's sons, the brunette, standing in a new circle of marks. He smirked at me. I decided my best strategy would be to annoy him, make him leave, and try practicing winnowing.

"You know, Feyre, I don't understand what's so special about you. You couldn't do anything against Tamlin, and you couldn't do anything against us…"

I chose to not ignore his taunt and instead said, "You know, Lucien talks about you all the time. About how you were such an easy family to betray, and how killing your brother - what was his name? Aaron? Felt justifying. He doesn't miss you, you know."

He growled, and took a menacing step forward. "You shut your mouth, you half-breed bitch," he snarled at me. I merely smirked at him, not too impressed with his half-witted answer. Lucien must still be a sore point for this one, I thought, and then realized I didn't actually know any of their names except for their dearly departed brother.

"You know my name, Prince, I think it's only fair that I know yours," I said, annoyed that he had the upper hand. I saw him consider it, weighing the odds of what I would do to him.

He seemed to decide that it wouldn't do any harm because he replie, "Dorian. Prince Dorian of the Autumn Court."

I rolled my eyes at the theatricality of the full title. I then remembered my conversation with Rhys. This was the one who led the attack on Tamlin. Annoyed that I wouldn't get anything out of him being here, I decided to go back to my earlier tactic.

"You know, if you hadn't come to the Spring Court so early, I might have killed Lucien for you." Dorian clenched his fists. "Do you want him dead, Dorian? Do you want the man who killed Aaron to answer for his crimes?"

"Shut your mouth, you insolent bitch!" He growled. I cocked my head.

"Or is one dead brother already enough? Do you disagree with Daddy, Dorian? Do you want to spare him?" I asked sweetly. His face went red with rage.

"Shut your whore mouth!" He shouted as he took another step forward. I winked at him, and he vanished. Already exhausted by the conversation, I sat down again against the wall.

Ten minutes, I thought, Ten minutes and then I'll practice winnowing.

Half an hour later, I knew I couldn't put it off any longer. I stood up, and tried to remember what Rhys had taught me. I had to find the pockets between the world, I had to feel the difference between the space.

I tried lowering my shield, but I couldn't talk to Rhys. I couldn't feel him. It was the Spring Court all over again… except. Except this time, I could still use the rest of my magic. If I could just get one of them to step out of the circle of markings…

Well, until someone else comes along, I'll just have to practice winnowing.

I tried, I practiced, and nothing came of it. I didn't understand why I had such a block.

Two hours later (or what I assumed was two hours; I had no way of telling time, but my fae senses seemed to include that knowledge) I still hadn't made any progress. I considered giving up when I realized there was someone else in the room. For a moment I thought it was Lucien, but then I realized that his features were softer, less rugged than Lucien. I then recalled the images of last night (was it really only last night?) and realized it was one of his brothers. I waited for him to speak.

"I'm Noksul," he said, fingering a silver amulet that hung around his neck.

"Feyre," I replied, my face expressionless.

He eyed me for a minute before saying, "I don't… agree… with my father's actions. I don't… I want…" He seemed to search for words for a moment, biting his lip, before continuing, "I used to have trouble with it too. Winnowing, that is. This should help," He said, tossing me the silver amulet. I snatched out of the air and turned to ask him how, but he was already gone.

So I'll try to have the next chapter up by next week, but as always... I make no promises.