Rhysand
"Nynsar…"
I'd heard the whispers all day, seeming to echo through the halls even as no one dared utter the word aloud. Amarantha had announced only a few days before that minor holidays such as Nynsar need not be celebrated by her "exalted court," as she had taken to calling it. I had spent those days quietly excising any memory of Starfall, our Night Court version of the holiday, from the minds of my subjects here Under the Mountain, not wanting her to find some way to pervert or somehow forbid that as well.
I half had hopes that I might venture to sneak a glance outside for myself tonight. There would be no stars falling here, of course, but perhaps simply breathing the night air and looking up at the boundless sky would remind me that there was still something in this world worth living for.
The two unfortunate members of my court Amarantha had selected for "entertainment" tonight were carried off by their kin as she signaled to the room that the evening was adjourned. I waited quietly in my place next to the throne, not daring to make eye contact. Court of Nightmares they may all be, but… they were still technically my people. And I knew some of them didn't truly deserve their treatment at Amarantha's hands.
"Rhysand, darling?" came Amarantha's simpering voice from my right.
I turned and bowed slightly.
"Walk with me," she cooed.
I tried not to stiffen. I knew that tone. Instead, I offered her my arm with a smirk as we descended from the dais.
"What did you think of the festivities?" she asked impishly as we walked through a sea of parting fae toward the doors. A mixture of terror and disgust filled most of the eyes we passed, but I ignored them, as always.
"As fine an evening as any other," I offered mildly.
She glanced shrewdly at me but said nothing.
Our "walk" led, as I'd known it would, to intricately carved mahogany doors, modeled, as everything of hers was down here, after those of my own throne room in the Hewn City.
Amarantha made as if to enter alone, then looked back at me coyly. "Well? Do you have somewhere better to be?"
The cruel sparkle in her eyes told me that she knew. And in that moment, I saw it all. She had deliberately chosen Night Court faeries to torment at the feast, had always intended to have me in bed tonight. Somehow, despite my careful maneuvering, she knew what this night, apart from all others, meant… what it must mean to me. I swallowed.
"Of course not," I said, mustering up a lazy smile. Her grin widened, and she pushed the door open far enough for me to slip past her.
I turned as the door clicked shut to take her in my arms, but all at once, every inch of my clothing vanished. Her hand on my chest, she steered me toward the bed, which I dutifully lowered myself onto, expecting her to climb up and straddle me. Her grin widened as she used one delicate fingernail to push against my chest until I was lying prone, and then, just as suddenly, invisible restraints snapped around my wrists and ankles, trapping my hands above my head.
Trying to hide my panic, I arched an eyebrow and said coolly, "Feeling adventurous tonight?"
The vicious smile never left her face. "Well, it is a special occasion, after all…" She let the words hang in the air, but I refused to take the bait. She pouted but then shrugged delicately. "One full month of my glorious reign under these lands, of course."
"Long live the queen," I said evenly.
That smile returned as she approached. My heartbeat sped up, and I prayed she would mistake it for lust as she settled herself over my face.
I gave as much pleasure as I could, even as I felt I would suffocate under the weight of her skirt and my arms twitched uselessly, unable to grant me any purchase. I had some frail, senseless hope that if I could somehow satisfy her, I might still have part of the night to myself.
When she'd had her fill, she stretched out beside me, drawing her finger along the planes of my stomach, idly watching the reflexive response of my cock, and vanished each piece of her clothing one by one.
Shaking out her unbound hair, she covered me and began to ride. I closed my eyes, feigning ecstasy, but the sharp scrape of a nail under my chin had me opening them again.
"You should watch, darling," she purred.
Hate mingled with helpless rage as I submitted, again and again and again.
Stumbling out of her rooms just after dawn, I managed to make it to my own before vomiting thoroughly. I waved away the wraiths who tried to attend me and fell into bed with my clothes on, unable to stomach removing them again.
The next year, I planned ahead.
"I've heard rumors that Day is getting a bit restless," I mentioned casually over dinner the night before, as a member of that court was slowly turned over the giant spit that had been erected in the middle of the hall. "Perhaps someone should be sent to remind them of their… obligations." I'd been perfecting my imitation of Amarantha's cruel smile over the past year, sinking deeper into my required role here Under the Mountain.
She tapped her lip thoughtfully, her eyes never leaving the screaming wretch in the center of the hall. "Yes, I think you're right," she mused thoughtfully. "In fact, while you're in the area, perhaps you ought to pay a visit to that Nightmare Court of yours, see if they need any reminding."
My breathing didn't so much as hitch as I responded smoothly, "Of course."
"Oh, and Rhysand darling." Amarantha's gaze was full of mirth as she glanced sidelong at me. "Do be back before nightfall." I stiffened minutely. "I should miss you so terribly if I had to spend the night… alone."
This time, she pinned me to the wall before laying me out on the bed, and once again, I was not released until dawn.
After that I did my best to forget Nynsar—I couldn't bring myself to even think the word Starfall—altogether, lashing out at anyone who dared breathe the name, delighting in reporting and punishing them. Eventually I managed to convince myself it didn't matter—after all, what was one night a year among hundreds, when they all started to blur together anyway?
There was less… brutality when I didn't try to resist, or remember, but in all of fifty years, she never forgot. Not once.
Fifty years later
I sat up gasping from the nightmare, bathed in sweat. Even knowing it was coming, inevitable, didn't soften the terror and feeling of helplessness. I drew my knees up to my chest and tried to slow my ragged breathing, deliberately taking in the details of the room around me. It was too formal, stiff, and for a brief moment I wished I had stayed at the town house, before remembering why I hadn't.
I just… I couldn't face her yet, not with—everything.
I reached blindly for a lamp on the bedside table, and my fingers froze as they brushed against the small box that rested there. My hand closed reflexively around it, as if I could feel the ring that lay nestled inside. A bitter laugh tore from me. I had once thought it would be romantic to propose on Starfall, had even contemplated at least telling Feyre the truth tonight, all of it, but now…
I cursed and threw the box across the room. It skidded under the dresser, and I didn't bother to retrieve it. There would be no romantic Starfall proposal tonight, and how could there, when I…
Who would want to bother with that sort of mess?
I sighed, though it came out sounding more like a growl. If only she knew. I lay back on the bed, quickly rolling to my side instead as bile rose in my throat.
It was still two hours till dawn, but I rose and dressed. No reason to lie awake agonizing when I had the more pressing matter of finding and ending my mysterious enemy who, according to Amren's theory, was tracking me through my magic. Leaving now would give me plenty of time to resume yesterday's search without having to winnow or wake one of the others to tote me along like so much dead weight, and a couple hours' flying would help me clear my head.
I picked up the nonexistent trail in the forest where we'd left off. I'd hoped that working myself into exhaustion the day before would somehow stave off the dreams, but that had been as futile an exercise as this infuriatingly fruitless search.
I stopped after about an hour at the edge of a stream, cursing as I splashed water on my now-heated face. If only there were some way I could actually hunt the bastards…
The edges of my lips curled up in a smile. Feyre was so fond of snares; perhaps it was time I try using one myself. I stood and rolled my shoulders, letting the power within me well up from that deep reservoir where I kept it contained. I set it rolling out over the face of the landscape. Come and get me.
The sun was high overhead when I finally heard an answering snap of a twig somewhere behind me. I smiled, monitoring the unfamiliar presence as it neared. Just a little closer…
"H-High Lord?"
I blinked, then turned slowly, schooling the snarl from my face.
A male I didn't recognize, who wore a crest of ranking nobility despite his obvious youth, cringed at the edge of the clearing I'd chosen to wait in.
"We… it—the mountain," he stammered, gesturing helplessly.
Well, shit. I hadn't considered the effect unleashing my power might have, given the proximity of the Hewn City—at least twenty miles from here, if I had to guess, but… still. I folded my hands into pockets I had momentarily forgotten were not there, resting them instead on the hilts of my Illyrian knives. "Can't a High Lord go for a walk out on his own lands?" I asked mildly.
His expression soured. "Of course, High Lord. My apologies."
He made no move to leave, so I raised an eyebrow.
"Will you be joining us for Starfall, then?" he asked, somehow managing to make the question sound like an insult. No doubt personally trained by Keir himself.
"No," I said flatly.
"Very good." He bowed just enough to avoid outright offense, then winnowed back the way he'd come.
I stared around me in frustration, then glanced up at the sky. I needed to get back anyway. The event Mor had arranged for the evening was in many ways my civic homecoming, the first truly formal occasion since…
I sighed and launched into the air, taking care to cut off any trace of magical energy as I sped home.
Gliding into the House of Wind, I felt the faint tug on my senses that let me know Feyre had a message for me. I smiled. Perhaps something could be salvaged of this miserable day, if she'd forgiven me enough to use our private form of communication. Drawing myself a bath, I retrieved the note.
Is this punishment? Or do people in your Inner Circle not get second chances if they piss you off? You're a hateful coward.
I blinked in confusion, turning the note over to see if I'd missed some clue on the other side. There was nothing.
I could feel my temper rising as I read the note again. She was one to talk. Hadn't I been punished for weeks—months now—at her pleasure? I sneered and tossed the note aside, lowering myself into the tub.
My thoughts simmered as I scrubbed off the layer of dirt I'd acquired that morning. I must have missed something, I decided. After all, it had been all of two days—not even—that I'd been away from the town house. I snooped around a bit and finally located two discarded messages, both apparently having been written while I was out, and both considerably less pissy.
I sighed and buried my head under the water. Would I ever manage to stop saying and doing entirely the wrong thing with her? And tonight… There would be no avoiding her at the party, and besides, an increasingly large part of me had been aching to see her the longer this went on.
A sharp pounding at my door roused me from my melancholy. "Rhys? Are you in there?" It was Mor's voice, sounding annoyed.
"Yes," I answered drily, wrapping a towel around myself.
A pause. "Are you dressed?"
I rolled my eyes. "Nearly."
I could clearly picture her scowl as she snapped, "Hurry up. The guests will be here soon."
Scowling in turn, I pulled out something suitably formal and surveyed my image in the long mirror, bracing myself for a role I hadn't played in over fifty years.
[* * *]
"Lord Rhysand!"
I took what felt like the fifty-eighth offered hand and shook it, mustering up a smile. "Lord Ashram." A high-ranking member of the artisans' guild, though he also came from money, if memory served. His wife offered up a hand as well, and I kissed it graciously as he launched into fulsome oration on the superb showing of the night's event.
It shouldn't feel so stifling, I told myself, being here among my people—some of them had been my friends. And yet everywhere I turned, it felt like staring into the faces of strangers, their joyous, unconcerned merriment as foreign to me as my strained smiles were to them.
Cass, I sent out, trying to locate my brother amid the writhing throng.
His answer was smug. Yes, Lord Rhysand?
I ignored him. I need you to go get Feyre. She should be ready by now.
He actually seemed surprised, for once. I thought you would want to go, he said carefully.
I sent him a helpless mental gesture, indicating the still bloviating male in front of me and at least two others I could see angling to be next.
His smirk returned. Ah. By all means. Wouldn't want to disappoint your guests, O High One.
I sent him another, more pointed gesture, trying not to let the envy show on my face as I felt him saunter to the edge of the balcony and launch into the sky.
Hateful coward, her words from earlier taunted me. Well, I would have the chance to redeem myself soon enough, I vowed.
I continued to suffer through countless exchanges of pleasantries as the minutes crawled by, even as I sensed their return, feeling chained to the smiles and handshakes around me.
My attention was drawn back to the room as another faerie clapped me boisterously on the shoulder. Pelinor was a decent fellow, I remembered, though given to somewhat excessive drinking at functions like these, and it seemed tonight was no exception.
"Must be different than what you've been used to, eh?" he slurred jovially.
I stilled. "I beg your pardon?"
"From what I've heard… Well, what I mean to say is, did you even celebrate Starfall these last"—he cleared his throat, seeming to finally recognize the dangerous ground he was treading—"years?"
"No," I said shortly, my voice decibels away from being a growl.
Pelinor paled slightly, muttering as he melted into the crowd, "Well, of course, I mean, how could you? No stars under—ahem."
The look on my face must have been as murderous as I felt, because no one stepped up to take his place. I stalked out to the balcony, grateful to finally have a moment's peace—
And lost my breath entirely as I caught sight of her.
She stood casually, chatting with Mor, the folds of my mother's dress hugging her shapely form as if it had been made for her… I swallowed against the sudden lump in my throat, as she shifted and the light caught the rows of tiny gems that glittered all along the bodice and flowed down to her ankles. For a moment I was a young child again, watching raptly as my mother painstakingly wove each one into the delicate fabric, wanting nothing more than to feel it glide under my hands.
I approached slowly, eavesdropping on their conversation until I could find an opportunity to insert myself. At the mention of Cassian and of Mor's lack of continuing interest, I drawled, "Oh, it drives him insane." Mor looked up at me with something like gratitude in her eyes. I smirked, knowing how well she liked to discuss her personal life, then made my way around to fully take in the vision before me.
Feyre crossed her arms defiantly, as if purposely cutting off my view. I quirked an eyebrow, noting her now filled out curves, where there had been only angles so recently. "You look like a woman again."
Mor snorted. "You really know how to compliment females, cousin." I cringed inwardly, as she excused herself and Feyre's mouth tightened.
"Do you plan to ignore me some more?" she challenged.
I felt my blood heat, though I couldn't tell if it was temper or… something else. "I'm here now, aren't I? I wouldn't want you to call me a hateful coward again."
She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then scowled and looked away, scanning the crowd as if she would rather be anywhere else.
I grimaced. It was worse than I'd thought. So I tried for an apology instead, murmuring, "I wasn't punishing you. I just… I needed time." The excuse fell lamely from my lips, and the frown didn't entirely leave her face, but at least she stopped looking like she was trying to escape.
"Will you please tell me what this… gathering is about?" she changed the subject, sounding exasperated.
Bright flecks had already begun to flicker in my peripheral vision. I was surprised she hadn't noticed yet. I laughed softly and said into her ear, "Look up."
She obeyed, just as the sky fell momentarily quiet once more. "No speech for your guests?" she asked to fill the space.
"Tonight's not about me, though my presence is appreciated, and… noted," I said drily. Another flicker caught my eye, just above the horizon. I pointed. "Tonight's about that."
The whole balcony fell still as it began in earnest. I watched silently, for a moment losing myself in the sacred spectacle as Feyre stood, equally transfixed, in front of me. The glittering radiance that eclipsed the vast expanse plucked a flickering echo in some deep part of my soul, stirring emotions I'd all but forgotten, and I found myself grateful for the dim lighting as tears slipped freely down my cheeks.
Fifty years… I shuddered reflexively, trying and failing to forget what Starfall had meant for all that time. I hadn't let myself even remember what it was like, to gaze up in wonder, surrounded by my people—my friends.
Once the revelers had taken in their fill, the music started up, and the gathered assembly resumed their chatter, some beginning to dance. I drank in the sight, letting the tears dry on my face as I watched Mor drag Cassian and then Azriel into the throng.
This, I told myself. This is what it had all been for. All those nights—I stopped myself. For Mor and Cassian and Azriel. For this city, its people, I would do it all again. I knew there was no price so high I wouldn't gladly pay it… until my eyes lit on the one thing that perhaps, perhaps might outweigh them all, staring solemnly back at me with eyes that glowed in the starlight.
I attempted a smile. "Come. There's a better view." I held out my hand, feeling like I would break if she refused.
But she nodded, swallowing nervously as she slid her hand into mine, following me upward to the balcony that stretched off my private suite.
She leaned attractively against the rail and then seemed to think better of it, noting the drop-off, and I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. "If you fell, you know I'd bother to save you before you hit the ground."
Her eyes tightened. "But not until I was close to death?" she said archly.
I let my amusement dance across my eyes. "Maybe."
She looked away, out across the sky. "As punishment for what I said to you?"
I swallowed, all amusement gone. "I said some horrible things, too."
She glanced back at me and then quickly away again, rushing on as if she might lose her nerve. "I didn't mean it… I meant it more about myself than you. And—I'm sorry," she finished quietly.
It was my turn to look away, and I had to swallow several more times before I could speak without trembling. "You were right, though," I admitted. "I stayed away because you were right." I glanced sidelong at her. "Though I'm glad to hear my absence felt like a punishment."
She rolled her eyes, and I was grateful to see a spark of good humor return to her face. She changed the subject. "Any news with the orb or the queens?"
"Nothing yet," I replied evenly. "We're waiting for them to deign to reply."
She looked at the sky again, gazing out at the glimmering tableau as we stood in companionable silence, and her face filled with awe as she said, "They're not—they're not stars at all."
I smiled, what felt like my first genuine one all day, and joined her at the side of the balcony. "No. Our ancestors thought they were, but…" I shrugged, letting the wonder I'd always felt fill my voice. "They're just spirits, on a yearly migration to… somewhere. Why they pick this day to appear here, no one knows." I watched her face as she gazed upward, the glow reflecting off her skin, thinking it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
She glanced back at me but shied away from the intensity in my gaze. "There must be hundreds of them."
"Thousands," I murmured. "They'll keep coming until dawn. Or, I hope they will." I frowned, wondering if perhaps even this could have changed since I'd been… away. "There were less and less of them the last time I—witnessed Starfall." That suffocating feeling returned, but I pushed it back.
"What's happening to them?" she asked curiously.
I shrugged tightly. "I wish I knew." My voice turned wistful. "But they keep coming back despite it."
"Why?"
"Why does anything cling to something?" I mused quietly. "Maybe they love wherever they're going so much that it's worth it. Maybe they'll keep coming back, until there's only one star left. Maybe"—I swallowed the hitch in my throat—"that one star will make the trip forever, out of the hope that someday—if it keeps coming back often enough—another star will find it again." My voice had grown fierce, rough. I didn't dare look at her.
"That's… a very sad thought," she said at last.
"Indeed."
As hard as I tried to keep them at bay, the longer I stared out at the achingly beautiful sight, the more ugly memories crowded in, until I started to muster up the words to excuse myself. And yet—
I'd once told her it helped to talk. And—out of all of them—maybe she could even understand, some of it, at least. So I did, haltingly at first.
"Every year that I was Under the Mountain and Starfall came around, Amarantha made sure that I… serviced her," I forced out. "The entire night. Starfall is no secret, even to outsiders," I continued, voicing what I had eventually come to realize, that there were some things I simply couldn't protect, hard as I tried. "Even the Court of Nightmares crawls out of the Hewn City to look up at the sky. So she knew…" My voice trailed off to a whisper. "She knew what it meant to me."
For a moment, silence hung between us.
"I'm sorry," Feyre said softly, her voice full of sorrow, but not pity.
I glanced down at the dancers below, so unrestrained in their joy and celebration. "I got through it by reminding myself that my friends were safe, that Velaris was safe. Nothing else mattered, so long as I had that. She could—use my body however she wanted." My voice cracked imperceptibly. "I didn't care."
"So why aren't you down there with them?"
I looked up sharply but saw only tender curiosity on her face. "They don't know," I said stiffly. "What she did to me on Starfall." My voice grew quiet again. "I don't want it to ruin their night."
"I don't think it would," she objected. "They'd be happy if you let them shoulder the burden."
I looked up, slightly startled to find she'd unconsciously leaned into me as we spoke. I gave her a rueful smile. "The same way you rely on others to help you with your own troubles?"
I expected her to pull away as the awareness of our proximity crept in, but instead she reached out, almost hesitantly, to stroke my fingers with her own.
I hardly dared breathe, the longing in me almost tangible as I waited for the inevitable withdrawal, steeling myself—
A star spirit careened past, alarmingly close at this height, and some of its essence splattered into her face, startling a laugh out of me as she spluttered and reeled.
I tried and failed to neutralize my expression as she recovered and rounded on me. "I could have been blinded!" she hissed, launching a fist into my chest.
Her righteous fury was marred by the gaudy shimmer splashed across her incensed features, and I backed away, unable to stem the peals of laughter rending through me.
Just as I thought I might turn hysterical, she made as if to wipe it off. "Don't," I said breathlessly, impulsively grabbing her hand. She stilled under my touch, and I stared in wonder at her star-kissed features. "It looks like your freckles are glowing."
She did not appreciate this. I dodged her answering shove—only to slam directly into another passing spirit.
I swore, swiping at my own face now, but stopped as the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard rang out across the night sky. Her laugh was everything good in the world, stripped down and contained in one sparkling note after another. I was almost grateful for the sensation of dripping down the side of my face, turning my attention away before she could see the raw emotion in my eyes. I meticulously examined my now-glowing hands, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat.
And then she was there, closing the space between us, taking my hand in hers as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I caught sight of the spirit-dust still glowing on her face and smiled.
Her answering smile shut out all thought and sensation of the world around us, then brought it rushing back with a clarity that made everything new, all within the space of a heartbeat. Her face fell slightly in confusion—at what expression on my own, I couldn't begin to guess.
"Smile again," I pleaded hoarsely, desperate for that light in a world that seemed suddenly dim and empty without it.
She obliged, and I felt all the pieces of my being click wordlessly into place, with the feeling of a contented sigh.
"You're exquisite," I breathed, and suddenly my hunger was too great to contain—
So, of course, she shrank, minutely, but without taking her gaze from me, said, "You owe me two thoughts—back from when I first came here. Tell me what you're thinking."
I pulled my hands away, banking the fire that had come roaring up inside me. I thought back to the last few days, the words that had hung between us, all seeming so inconsequential now. "You want to know why I didn't speak to or see you?" I asked ruefully. "Because I was so convinced you'd throw me out on my ass. I just…" Coward. She wasn't entirely wrong. "I figured hiding was a better alternative," I finished lamely.
"Who would have thought the High Lord of the Night Court could be afraid of an illiterate human?" she said, in a voice so exaggeratedly sultry I couldn't help but grin.
"That's one," she nudged when I didn't continue. "Tell me another thought."
I stared at her open, resplendent face, and suddenly the night caught up with me—all of it—the memories and emotions swirling together in a twisted spiral that threatened to swallow me whole.
"I'm wishing I could take back that kiss Under the Mountain," I said roughly. I wish I could kiss you now, without the taint of memories, either that or—what came after.
Her voice was soft, almost… tender. "Why?"
I looked away, noticing for the first time a small, exquisitely painted star on the palm of my hand. "Because I didn't make it pleasant for you," I confessed softly. "Because I was jealous and pissed off and—" My voice hitched as I whispered, "I knew you hated me."
I looked up into her eyes, feeling as if they bared my very soul, and she gazed steadily back, emotions warring on her face. Her fingers strayed seemingly unconsciously toward my wrist, and I held my breath as she studiously sketched the outline of my vein.
"Do you…" she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you want to dance with me?"
My eyes filled. The unassuming query in that hesitant request washed over and soothed the tattered part of my soul that had been haunting me all evening.
She looked up then, her eyes fragile as the silence stretched between us.
I had to clear my throat to speak. "You want to dance?"
She nodded toward the still-thriving party I'd utterly forgotten in the wake of her presence. "Down there—with them."
To dance under the light of Starfall… She couldn't know what a gift she'd given me, as I realized I'd somehow needed permission… to live again.
"Of course I'll dance with you," I rasped. "All night, if you wish." With her, all night would be hardly enough.
"Even if I step on your toes?" she teased.
I smiled tenderly. "Even then."
And then, because being with her here, tonight, made me feel brave, I leaned in and brushed a kiss against her cheek. "I am… very glad I met you, Feyre."
Her eyes were bright, as if she could feel the caged anguish in me fluttering free. "Come on. Let's go join the dance."
We did. And for the first time in fifty years, as I fell exhausted into bed after dawn on Starfall, a satisfied smile lingered on my lips.