My first attempt at an ACOTAR fanfic... I'm very sorry if anyone seems OOC; I'm still trying to get a grasp on these characters. This'll probably be quite short, maybe five chapters at most.

Just to make it clear, this fic is Rhysand x Feyre.

Disclaimer: I don't own ACOTAR. It belongs to the marvellous SJM.

Rhysand

"So breakable," Amarantha purred. "So. . . mundane."

I swallowed my disgust, and clamped down hard on the writhing anger I felt deep in my gut as she surveyed the human village like one might survey the kindling they were about to throw on a bonfire on Calanmai. I felt that all too familiar urge to kill her. I had my weapons; I had the remaining bare remnants of my power. I could do it.

But then what would come of Velaris?

I could not gamble my City of Starlight on the off chance that she might die.

So I stood there, impassive, and let her preen and plot next to me, saying nothing.

This wasn't a scouting trip of the village we were about to sack. No. She had other faeries, whose loyalties were far less questionable than mine.

This was a chance for Amarantha to revel in the victory she would undoubtably have the next morning.

"This," she said slowly, as though she was savouring the exquisite taste of the word in her mouth, "will be by far the easiest battle we will have to fight in this war."

I could only nod in agreement, lost in my own thoughts.

The scent was stronger here. That scent - her scent. Since my frequent crossing of the wall, the dreams had only become stronger. The scent as well, which had always been more of a hallucination than a tangible smell. Less here than not; more hope than reality.

But on this side of the wall, the scent was a living thread, tugging me forward. Onward. Towards that tiny village on the horizon, soon to be painted in yellow flame, the same colour as the flowers I'd seen my painter girl crafting all those months ago.

The thought made my throat dry up. Cauldron forbid it, was she in the village? Was that safe haven that had sustained me with mere glimpses the same safe haven I was about to destroy?

My stomach roiled, and I wanted to retch.

Amarantha shifted next to me; the wind caught her white dress and the fabric snapped, the colour of ivory claws, as it was blown sideways like billowing sails. "Come," she clicked her fingers. I made to obey, mind still with that delicate girl, and her even more delicate village. "Now that Tamlin's. . . absent," she sneered the word; it was no secret that she'd been beyond furious when the news was brought that Tamlin had run away. "We can make good use of his Spring Court residence."

I stiffened as she gestured with her hand - so pale, so shocking next to her crimson hair - but obliged.

Feyre

I stood with a snarl fixed on my face, and my ash arrow nocked and drawn and aimed at the humanoid - humanoid, but not human; never human - creature in front of me. And yet despite my threatening stance, my knees wobbled, my neck itched, and a knot of that desperation that came from being so hopelessly unmatched that hope was non existent was being pulled tighter and tighter in my chest.

I was a cornered mouse, and this faerie was the cat. But I would fight to the death for my survival.

Nevertheless, I held my position, even as my bow shook violently with the tremors that racked my hands, and continued to aim it as the golden haired faerie with murder in my heart.

He eyed me with striking green eyes - the colour of fresh spring grass, my artistic side, my useless, soft side, whispered - and then eyed the arrow I had trained on him. He snarled softly at the sight of the ash and the iron, then swept those emerald eyes back up and down my gangly figure, lingering slightly on my quiver, and the three ordinary arrows there.

He chuckled, and it was a weak thread of sound. "If that's truly your only ash arrow, girl, I suggest you don't waste it on me, and save it for a faerie who really deserves it."

I swallowed, and took half a step back. My knees were bent, braced - whether to run or to lunge at him, I didn't know. The bow only trembled harder. "Don't all of your kind deserve it, after all you've done to us? All you're doing to us?" My voice trembled in sync with my hands. It was not from the cold, though fresh snow drifted through the trees.

Because. . . If more faeries were coming through, if the wall between Prythian and the human realms didn't hold fast. . . I didn't think I could get my family out in time. Not with our sufficient lack of funds. Not with my father's ruined leg hurting him even more viciously in the winter months.

He barked a bitter laugh. "I should have known that would be a human huntress's answer." His eyes seemed to glow then, and I watched in terror as the tips of his fingers morphed into claws. My heart hammered in my throat. He seemed to take note of my terror, because he barked another displeased laugh, and the claws disappeared.

I took another step back, and over the sound of my racing pulse, over the scramble of terrified thoughts, I tried to focus. "But what do you mean?" I took a deep breath, and it steadied my hands. It was a surprise when I realised I had subconsciously lowered my bow. "'A faerie who really deserves it'? What are you talking about?"

He took a deep breath, and seemed to steel himself. My agreement to hear out his point seemed to excite him, as he took one eager step forward. I took another step back, and his face fell.

"Please," he said, and his voice cracked. A snowflake hit the collar of my worn hunting jacket, and I shivered as the freezing water slid down my breath. "Just hear me out." I lowered my bow by a fraction - all the signal I was going to give him. He took it as it was, and said, "She's going to torch your village."

The world went very, very still, even the eddies of snow stopping in their spiral. I sucked in a breath.

He took it as encouragement, and rushed on, "Amarantha - an old faerie from the war five hundred years ago. She took over Prythian, and has now gathered what army she could, and is going to take back the mortal lands, and take your kind as slaves. She's-" He breathed a guttural sigh "-she's readying herself right now, and will attack some time tomorrow."

My bow had dropped altogether now, and I only gaped at him. He smiled slightly. "I thought you'd want to know."

I slung my bow back over my shoulder, put my bow back in my quiver, and gripped my face, sighing. Finally I looked back up at him, and said in a quiet, cool, authoritative voice that was not mine, "Well then, faerie. You are coming with me, and you are going to help me prepare my village."

He creased his brow, and opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted before he could, "Oh, don't try to argue. You can turn into a beast, or draw your sword and fight me if you want. Kill me if you really have to. But that would rather conflict with the reason you gave me the warning, wouldn't it?" I laughed mockingly, and his eyes narrowed with distaste. . . and a glimmer of respect. I jerked my head. "Now come with me. Let's see just how much you can help."

Elain and Nesta's reactions were, understandably, not ones to be desired. My father was asleep in his chair, thank goodness, so I didn't have to contend with his.

"Feyre!" Elain called as soon as I stepped in, and kicked off my hunting boots where they were falling apart at the seams. I cast a warning glance at the golden haired faerie to stay just inside the door, hidden from the ravenous eyes of my sisters, and stepped forward. "What have you got?"

I slanted a glance at Tamlin - we'd barely spoken on the walk back, but he'd had the sense to tell me his name. I hadn't bothered to return the favour; he'd find out soon enough - who remaining unmoved, and I responded harshly, "A few rabbits. And news of our certain doom."

I slung the three rabbits I'd shot before the unfortunate - or fortunate, in a way - encounter and they thumped onto the table. Nesta looked at them, a sneer curling her delicate lips, and I resisted the urge to scowl at her. But she still looked up at me through her lashes and scoffed, "'News of our certain doom'? Don't be so melodramatic, Feyre."

"I'm not." I responded curtly. "I glanced back at Tamlin, who had his eyebrow raised as his gaze flicked between Nesta and me. I wondered what he thought of our loving sister relationship, then decided I didn't care enough to ask. "Apparently the faeries are dissatisfied with their lands in Prythian, and are going to sack our village."

Elain's gasp was one of fragility and frailty; her hands fluttered up to her mouth like golden butterflies. The movement was as dainty as though she was a lady wearing lace gloves. "No!"

Nesta's blue-grey eyes - my eyes, our mother's eyes - narrowed further. "Don't play games." She commanded. "Don't joke about things like that."

I looked back at Tamlin, and jerked my chin in an imperial summoning worthy of the lady I could have been. He stepped forward unquestioningly, and Nesta backed up a step, Elain going rigid with fear. My eldest sister snarled softly, then reached out to grip Elain's arm and tug her behind her.

Tamlin's eyes glittered like chips of ice. "It's true."

Nesta started trembling - from rage, not fear. "How dare you!" She hissed at me. "How dare you bring him here, and endanger us like that!" A thought struck her. "How did he even get in?"

I waved it off disinterestedly and drew a knife from the strap at my waist. Elain flinched as I began to painstakingly skin the rabbits I'd caught. I sneered under my breath. "Have you not been listening?" I asked my eldest sister incredulously, each word punctuated by a swipe of the knife. Strip of bloody fur gathered at my feet. "If what he's saying is true, we've got bigger problems to worry about than whether or not the cheap carvings that lying charlatan agreed to do for us work. I'm surprised you believed they worked in the first place."

Tamlin had not moved from his position by the door. Nesta marched up to him, and spat, "What is it you want? We don't have any gold, and if you're looking for us to worship you like those Children of the Blessed fools then you can-"

"I'm not." He interrupted. "I just came to warn you." He narrowed his eyes at me. "Your sister - Feyre? - told me to come here so I can help somehow."

Nesta scoffed again. "How could you help?"

I'd finished skinning the first rabbit; I put it aside and picked up the second. I met Tamlin's eye and obtrusively flicked my eyes to the chair in the order for him to sit down. He obliged.

I resumed my motions with the second rabbit. "Tell me about faeries." I said, and he blinked his confusion. "What strengths do they- you have? Any weaknesses besides iron and ash?"

Tamlin gave a short laugh. Nesta was silent, still with one hand gripping Elain's wrist, glaring holes in the side of Tamlin's head, but at least she didn't object as he spoke. "Faeries aren't impervious to iron." He said with a laugh, and I frowned. "I don't know where you got that idea from."

Elain and Nesta shared a confused look. "Faeries can't lie," she murmured, "so-"

Tamlin twisted round and interrupted, "What do you mean faeries can't lie? I don't know where you got that idea from either."

I breathed a sigh, then snapped, "So what are your weaknesses then?"

He pursed his lips. "Ash." He said plainly, eyeing where I'd left my quiver menacingly. I raised an eyebrow at him, sensing he wasn't done, and he said, "And a stone mined on Hybern. It has the ability to put a damper on magic."

I raised my eyebrow.

Ash and stone. Stone and ash.

"Interesting," I murmured.

What did you think? Should I continue? Review!