#*offers you a blanket and a cup of tea since you're freshly arrived at the same awful cliffhanger we've been dealing with for months*

[hb-writes]

Distracted

Summary: When the charming and highly frustrating High Lord returns to Velaris, Rhys takes over training with the Inner Circle's ward, Serenyth "Sera" (OC), something which Sera has a love-hate relationship with.

Characters: Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel & Serenyth (OC) - platonic

Comfy-vember 2024 Masterlist

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Over an hour into the training session, Sera was still thinking about her bed. Even with a near continuous onslaught of physical and mental attacks from Rhysand, she couldn't control the longing.

The yearning. 

Once they were through with training, Sera knew the House of Wind would take care of her. Despite the fact that she had vacated her bed no more than an hour earlier, being ruthlessly forced from the comfortable slumber by an insistent Rhysand, Sera knew her bed would already be made with freshly laundered sheets and blankets, all of it deliciously warm to the touch. Her favorite loungewear would be folded at the foot of the bed, ready for her to slip into after her bath. The House was often kind to her like that.

It was truly a distracting thought knowing that she had no other plans for the day. Once she fulfilled Rhysand’s wishes and he deemed her efforts with training sufficient, she would be released for the day. Once Rhysand was happy, Sera could take a warm bath and get right back into bed with her book and a cup of tea and…

Sera jolted to the right as Rhysand's fist made contact with her side. It wasn’t a hard hit, the force behind it coming nothing close to what she imagined his full power to be, but like small things tended to do, the hits were starting to add up. 

You're distracted, Serenyth.

Sera groaned, but didn't offer him a proper answer, instead throwing a punch powered primarily by the sudden surge of annoyance—both that Rhysand had made his way into her head and that he had once again honed in on the same spot he'd been targeting since about fifteen minutes into the session.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Head," she hissed as Rhysand ducked around her punch.

You're the one who let me in here. Strengthen your walls if you don’t want me walking around.

You’re just upset I’m not paying you any attention, aren’t you, my high lord? 

Rhysand blinked and tilted his head at that. A smirk tugged at his lips and though he tried to hide it, the light of it was evident in his eyes. 

Ah, yes. I am terribly wounded.

There had been some initial awkwardness between the two of them when Rhysand first arrived home. Sera had spent the entirety of her life safely tucked into the fold of his Inner Circle, shuffled between Velaris and the Illyrian camps while Rhysand had been trapped Under the Mountain. After her mother's passing, it had been Mor, Cas, Azriel, and Amren who looked after her—raised her. 

Rhysand hadn’t been there for any of it, but Sera had known of the High Lord of the Night Court. She had known that he had been close with her mother. She had known that the Rhysand was considered family, and she knew that had he not been trapped, she would have known and loved him as she loved the others. 

She knew that, and yet, Sera had still been tentative of him at first. She had been unusually deferential and respectful, her cheekiness stowed away, though that facade hadn't very lasted long.

Rhysand had seen right through it, and he’d encouraged Sera to be herself around him. The more time they spent together, the easier it became, especially as Sera learned that Rhysand could be funny and charming and that he wasn’t at all what she had imagined a High Lord to be. 

The fact that he could be endlessly infuriating helped more when it came to bringing her out of her shell. And the fact that he was so persistent and thorough and smug when it came to training. 

It wasn't as though the others had been slacking with her training—the Inner Circle were all entirely capable and exhaustive teachers—but it was as though Rhysand was making up for some proverbial lost time with each and every session he had with her. Sera supposed that he was doing exactly that, in a way, equipping her with skills he would have trained her in from childhood had he been around. 

Because even though Sera had been trained in combat and flying and weaponry, she had never been trained to protect her mind. She had never needed that training seeing as no one around her had been able to climb inside and make themselves at home like Rhysand could, another infuriation. 

Rhysand had explained to Sera how to protect herself over and over in the preceding weeks, guiding her through the process, but she still found the practice difficult and it wasn’t uncommon for her to suddenly hear the High Lord’s voice in her head as he passed through the room. Keeping him out was even harder to do during training, when her concentration was split between the attacks occurring both in and outside of her mind. She tried to lean on the meditation practice her mother had tried to teach her as a child, but she had never been very good at that, her mind far too loud and busy.

You're annoying.

Sera's fists clenched as Rhysand smirked at her insult from across the training ring.

I've been told as much.

In the weeks since he had been home, Sera had learned that her mother had also found the High Lord endlessly infuriating. Her mother had also called him annoying and a wide range of more colorful synonyms, and the two of them had bickered with the same fervor that Sera sometimes found herself engaging with him now. Sera had a temper, just like her mother, something that used to get her in trouble when she joined Cassian and Azriel at the Illyrian training camps, but it didn’t seem to get her in trouble with Rhysand. 

Being persistent and smug—just like the High Lord—didn’t seem to get her in any trouble, either. He allowed her to give it just as good as he did, and at the end of the day, Sera enjoyed training with him even though she had yet to land a single hit against the High Lord. She enjoyed learning from him, and she found a certain comfort in the fact that they were similar because Rhysand was only partially Illyrian, just like her. And part fae, just like her. She didn’t know what else she was. Her mother had kept that to herself, but having someone to relate to on those known identities was something of a relief. 

While she had bonded with Cassian and Azriel because she was born out of wedlock like them, especially Cassian who had also never known his father, Sera had always felt a little different because at least they were both full Illyrians. Sera felt like she was in the middle, not quite anything and not quite belonging to anyone. She had grown up surrounded by love, and she was grateful for that, but it didn’t quiet the feeling of otherness that inhabited a part of her. The fact that she didn’t seem to belong anywhere. 

Sera’s mind wandered as they continued to circle one another, and Rhysand tapped her unprotected side once again. This time wasn't a hard hit either. He was taking it easy on her by this point, though Sera knew a bruise was already taking root in that spot. 

Sera threw a punch back and Rhysand easily sidestepped it once again.

"Stop. Hitting. Me. There!" she ground out.

I'll stop when you properly protect yourself. You need to block your—

Shut up! 

Sera nearly roared as his hand tapped her side once again. Or perhaps she did roar, a bit of rage and pain coming out of her all at once as she surged forward, quick and angry enough that she finally made contact with Rhysand’s body. It was just one hit and the shock of it stilled her, some part of her ready to apologize for daring to land her fist against him until Rhysand smiled.

"Good job," he said, and it took a moment for Sera to realize that he was speaking to her, the first words he had spoken outside of her mind since they walked out onto the balcony. She wasn't certain how she had managed it, there was a wall firmly in place in her mind.

"We'll go again. Keep your wall up and keep this protect—"

"How about you choose a different target?" Sera suggested as she took a step backward, twisting away from his outstretched hand. "I'm already going to bruise."

"Would Cass choose a different target?" Rhysand asked. "I can't imagine he'd be pleased if I allow you to keep leaving yourself open like that."

They both knew Cassian wouldn't allow it, and Sera became suddenly aware of why Rhysand had been so focused on that spot today. Cassian had clearly already told him where she had struggled recently. He had told Rhys that she had been lacking in her defensive maneuvers, that they'd spent most of their recent sessions with him focusing on that same spot over and over, ensuring that there would be a reminder for hours after the session. And then he would hone in on that same spot during the next session, and the one after that, ensuring she learned her lesson, which clearly, she hadn't.

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, waiting on his answer.

"No," Sera huffed. "He'd go for it over and over because, just like you—" The hint of a smirk passed over her lips— "he's an assho—"

Sera didn't get the rest of the word out as she was forced to block Rhys's approach, his hand reaching out for her side as he clawed at the walls surrounding her mind.

Sera laughed, holding his wrist away from her body as she fortified the wall in her mind, her gloating smile in place for just a moment before he effortlessly shifted out of her grip and twisted her so she was trapped with her back against his chest.

"Were you just about to call your High Lord an asshole, Serenyth?" he asked.

"Yes," Sera ground out as she struggled against his hold. "But only because you are one. You and the Casshole and Az—"

Sera's stomach dropped at the sound of a throat clearing on the other end of the balcony and she twisted in Rhysand's grip to see around him, meeting Cassian's gaze as he approached.

The Casshole. Rhysand chuckled in her mind. Good one.

Sera cursed, but she didn't bother telling Rhysand to get out of her head this time. She didn't bother trying to reason with Cassian either, knowing it was no good at this point. He'd probably already decided on retribution.

"All these years and you still haven't learned when to keep that mouth in check, have you, kid?" Cassian continued, a grand smirk on his face as he stalked closer and lowered himself to a fighting stance.

Sera didn't answer, too focused on Rhysand's instructions in her mind, their shift from opponents to teammates quick and unexpected, and for once, she was grateful for his ability to intrude into her mind. Grateful for his quickness with strategy.

At the perfect moment, Rhysand would spin her free, propelling her towards the balcony edge. All she had to do was release her wings and fly away, allowing him to deal with Cassian. To keep him distracted while she escaped. Sera kept her face neutral as Cassian continued to taunt her, preparing herself as Rhysand counted them down in her mind.

A bit of celebratory laughter spilled out as Rhysand released her, but it caught in her throat as Azriel appeared in front of her, the impossibly quick movement shielded by his shadows. Sera crashed into Azriel’s chest before she even had a chance to release her wings and she took a sudden step backward, her hands raised in defense. "Az, wait, I—"

Cass let out a laugh. "You think he's going to help you when the next name out of your mouth was about to be Azrihole?" he offered, grunting as he and Rhysand tussled, a bark of joyous laughter spilling out through Rhysand's mouth at the moniker. “Nice try, kid.”

It wasn't as if Rhysand had never heard the names before. Over the years, he had used the names countless times himself, but he hadn't had occasion to think of the nicknames in half a century. He hadn't had the occasion to laugh like this, either, the unencumbered joy filling him as he continued to wrestle with Cassian.

Sera was certain it was relief she felt wash over her at the sound, the tension washing off of both Cassian and Azriel as Rhysand continued to laugh. The chuckling became quickly contagious, and the four of them were a chorus of laughter before long, the pain in Sera's bruised side compounded by the uncontrollable giggles she released as she doubled over.

"Just you wait, Rhysie," Cassian said between breaths. "The kid will have a special nickname for you, too, soon enough." 

"You may be High Lord, but I've not met a person in all of Velaris to be excluded Serenyth's sassy name calling."

"Not even Amren."

Rhys gave her an impressed glance in Sera’s. "That's bold of you. What was the—"

"It's not to be repeated under threat of whole world destruction," Cassian interjected.

"Though she probably has a few options in mind for you already," Azriel offered, a statement which had Sera acutely aware of Rhysand's approach as she scrambled to lift the barrier in her mind, keeping the potential nicknames a secret for now. 

Sera and Rhysand had come a long way in a short amount of time, but she wasn’t comfortable enough for offensive nicknames yet.

—

Comfy-vember 2024 Masterlist

[elizabethrobertajones]

Finally caught up on supernatural! Time to read allllll your posts

Hahahaha! Welcome back to the party! I hope you haven’t been gone too long… that’s a LOT of posts :P