#princess rhy

[daenysthedreamer101]

The Iron Throne is the most dangerous seat in the Realm

masterlist

[bbyteach]

Rhys’s recent interviews are killing me(x)

Stede totally powered through with the earnest whimsy and I’m sure that’s what Ed loved most 🥺

[aphrodeiities]

𝔰𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔲𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢

paid natal chart readings are open :)

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♇ people with sagittarius ascendants are seen as people with charisma, humour and wit, they're usually seen with a smile on their face, even if they could have a planet like saturn, pluto or an asteroid like lilith in their first house, there is still a smug essemce they carry. sagittarius ascendant people are seen as those who are generous, noble and understanding, but they can also be people who are arrogant, mean and too straight-forward.

♇ their self-identity involves them being explorers, people who have devotion to something they think is higher than them, and being people who are moralistic. even if there could be other sag ascendants with low morals, the one with the high morals sometimes have a moral high horse. they sometimes see themselves as judgement, looking upon and over people and critiquing other people's behaviours. their self-identity includes them being people who learn what the world is trying to teach them, they usually see themselves students of the world.

♇ the impression they make on others is being people who move with the wind, even if they can be people who question what life is supposed to give them, at the end they usually have the status of "it is what it is" and continue moving on with life. the impression they make on others is that they are individuals who are enthusiastic, expansive and philosophical.

♇ on one hand, their personality includes them being people who are intelligent, comical and being individuals who are spontaneous, though they could have the characteristics of being mean, pretentious and having high stands for everyone around them.

♇ the planetary ruler of sagittarius being jupiter shows that you would sometimes be deemed as a lucky person, even if you might not feel lucky, to people who do not know you, they might think the world works truly for you. you being someone who is able to get whatever you want, this can attract jealousy from other people. with jupiter being the ruling planet of your First House, you are someone who might have something big about you? could be a body party or a personality trait.

♇ when it comes to the appearance, i have described in the ascendants and their beauty post, that those with sagittarius in the first house have fairy/elf essence, being people who "might" have a horse face structure, but it could also be deemed as a chiselled face structure, especially if they pucker their face, it is a motion they do a lot. those with sagittarius ascendants have darty eyes and majority of the time arent that tall, but their figure seems tall. they usually do have really nice legs, and sometimes it is toned, i have noticed that much sag ascendant women have big chests.

♇ their personal ambition involves them wanting to become a better version of themselves, or see themselves in a rank that is better or different than the one they live in now. they might devote themselves to a belief, or could be the type of people who want to move from where they current live, as stereotypical as it sounds, sagittarius ascendants do like to travel and do hope to travel the world and learn about cultures that are different than theirs. some of them also could have the personal ambition of becoming known to the point of worship.

♇ as it comes to strengths and weakness, people with a sagittarius ascendant tend to have the strength that means them being people who are aspiring, cheerful and wise, could be people who strive for personal-growth. on the other hand, when it comes to their weaknesses, they can be people who are rude, lazy, and might think they're better than other people around them.

♇ moving on, they project their personalities to be people who are helpful and fun, even though they dont care that much about what other people think, they still like to have the feeling that other people do like them. so like libra placements, they sometimes do tend to people please, especially if they have a libra midheaven. on the other hand, they could project their personalities to be people who are all knowing, could sometimes behave like they're a guru.

♇ when it comes to how they view the world, they view the world as something to conquer, they're like pirates with how they want to explore the world and seas. and they can be people who usually view the world as half full than half empty, even if they can get into depressive states, with the scorpio in 12h, the jupiterian essence aids them to come back to their feet and move on.

♇ the first house rules the idea of self-image, sagittarius ascendants think themselves to be people who are above others, especially when it comes to under-developed sagittarius ascendants, and this could sometimes lead them into being people who are offensive than others. seeing themselves as people who can do anything without any consequences. yet on the more good side, they have the self-image of being people who are cheerful, and could think of themselves to be people who are future-oriented, seeing nothing but what could be for them. being individuals who are enterprising and influential, another indicator to why they could sometimes think they're better than others. but people do usually tend to be inspired by everything they do.

♇ lastly, the first house converses about the impact they have on other people, and as i have mentioned in the paragraph before this one, sagittarius ascendants are influential people, example, adriana lima, paris hilton, kim kardashian and princess diana. the impact they have on other people is to want to live their life or want to conquer the goals and ambitions they have set for themselves. another way they could inspire people is because they live life to the fullest and appear as free. people would want to follow the steps they have done to live the same life.

pluto's masterlist

sagittarius in the houses masterlist

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pluto

[manhasetardis]

"Hey! What's so important? What you got here that's worth living for?""True love" - The Princess Bride Part 1/?

[feyreswaterybowels]

⟡ Princess of Dreams ⟡

# 1 Lucien x Rhys!Sister

⟡Part 1⟡Part 2⟡Part 3⟡

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Centuries ago Rhys’ youngest sister was kidnapped by the High Lord of Spring instead of kill like their mother and sister. The high lord had wards placed on his court so she was unable to leave. Rhys has believed her to be dead this whole time. What happens when Feyre finds out who she is and swears to take her home.

Warnings/Tag: Takes place during ACOWAR. Implied past sexual assault. Fluffy romance. Feyre being besties with Rhy’s sister. Pet names (pretty girl, sweet girl, Princess (her title)

Authors Note: All likes, comments and reblogs are welcome, appreciated and encouraged. Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for part 2! Bold italics are mental communication regular italics are inner thoughts.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁✩ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☽ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☽ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☽ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

I know who you are.

I don’t know what you’re talking about, Feyre—

You’re Rhys' sister. He told me all about you while I was there. I…I have a plan. I’ll take you back with me when I go. I’ll take you home.

The hushed conversation with Feyre played on repeat in my head for days. She had trusted me enough to tell me she wasn’t really here for Tamlin, that it was a plot, a plan and she was going back to the Night Court. Back to Velaris and she was taking me with her—she was taking me home.

Home.

There was only one problem. Just one. The male lying in my bed. I turn away from the window to gaze at him lying there naked, golden skin glowing in the moonlight. A crown of red splayed around his head. Grooves and planes of lean muscles on display. Arms folded behind his head.

Gods, he’s beautiful.

I had yet to tell him of Feyre’s plan. I believed he wouldn’t tell Tamlin but at the same time…I wasn’t sure how safe his mind was with two other daemanti in the house. I could only protect his mind when I was with him. Plus, Tamlin was his best friend. His High Lord. If he knew of Feyre’s plan to leave…and everything else she told me and Tamlin found out, we could both be locked away again. Not only that, but if he found out Lucien knew? That couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let harm come to either of them.

I took in a deep breath, walking over to the bed, tucking my wings as I slowly crawled up that perfect body. Dipping my head and trailing my lips over that patch of hair that went down, down, down, breathing in the scent of him. Mm.

“And what exactly are you doing?” That deep voice rumbled. I looked up, a sly grin across his face, metal eye glowing in the dark as he took in the sight of me between high thighs as I licked my bottom lip.

“Who? Me?” I asked, sliding a hand up his thigh to grasp him in my hand, stroking him once.

“Yes you, Princess” He laughs, grabbing and pulling me up the bed, kissing me as he rolls us over. I can feel him hard and heavy between my legs and it makes me moan.

“Lucien,” His name falls from my lips as he presses our bodies together. “Don’t tease, I want you.”

“Don’t tease?” He scoffs, “Says the one who was about to wake me up with a pretty little mouth.”

His grin is feral and I can’t help but return it.

“Come on,” I spread my legs wider, letting him feel the wetness there, “I know you want it.”

“And she calls me the tease,” He mocks under his breath before kissing me, tongue sliding into my mouth.

My fingers tangle in those long fire locks. I moan when I feel the heat radiating from his body, I love when he does that. The heat always feels so good against my sensitive skin.

He grins at me again, pushing up onto his knees, towering over me. He grabs my thighs, spreading them out and looking over me and I let him. I always loved the way he looks at me, his beautiful scarred face showing every ounce of emotion he feels.

He reaches between his thigh, wrapping a strong fist around himself and I watch stroke for stroke as he watches me. I tug on that bond between us, watching as it seemingly tugs him closer though I know it was his own doing.

“So, beautiful, all laid out for me,” He groans and I open myself further for him. Stretching my wings out across the bed, arms above my head, legs still spread wide but using a foot to rub over his calf.

That does it for him. He swoops down, grabbing me around the waist to yank my hips up, lining himself up and filling me. I cry out his name, arching into that fullness, into that glorious stretch.

We move together heat and passion. It’s rough and loving and he’s got me falling over the edge in minutes. Then again. And again. He’d always been so good at getting me there. Doing everything to make sure I was pleasured properly.

Tonight was no different as he leans over me, slow, firm thrusts hitting exactly where I needed it as he mouthed at my wing, tongue tracing through the grooves, and one hand wrapped around my wrists above my head to hold me in place.

“Say my name, pretty girl” he says, heated kisses on my wing.

“Lucien,”

“Louder,” he growls.

“Lucien!”

“I want the whole house to hear you, sweet girl.” His tongue laves over a particularly sensitive spot and I’m gone again. Gushing over him and moaning his name loud enough that the whole house definitely heard it.

It’s not long after that his thrusts are slowing. He lets go of my hands so I can touch him, he always liked having my touch when he came. I grinned into our kiss as my hands ran over his body. His panting moans turning into grunted growls. He was so sexy like this. Covering me fully, hair falling around his face, teeth bared.

I reached up pushing his hair behind those pointed ears, thumb tracing over part of his scar before pulling him into a kiss that was more tongue than anything.

“Fuck, just like that, baby,” I moaned into his mouth. “You’re gonna make me cum again. Make me feel so good!”

“Yeah? Gonna cum in that pussy for you, pretty girl, then I'm gonna eat it out.”

That’s what did it for me, I tightened around him. He follows me over the edge a few thrust later with a growl of my name.

Then he’s slipping from my body and sliding down, kissing a trail to my centre, keeping true to his promise.

“Fuck,” He groaned, coming back up, sliding his tongue into my mouth to let me taste myself. Kissing me slow and sloppy. “So perfect. My pretty, perfect mate.”

Despite what we’d just done I blush at his words.

“My sweet handsome mate,” I whisper back, tumbing at the bottom of his scar again before wrapping my arms around his neck.

He holds me tight, arms wrapping around me as we catch our breath. I tuck my face into the crook of his neck breathing in his scent—organic, earthy and sweet. Perfect.

My eyes welled up when thoughts of leaving weave through my brain. This was my mate, I had built a life here with him. But I had been trapped in this house for so long that it wasn’t really life. I wanted to go home to Velaris. To my brother and our family. I could try to convince Lucien to go but that could put him in danger. I had almost lost him under the mountain, I could t go through that again. If I left first I could always seek him out later but to stay here when I had the opportunity to finally go home, when I had Feyre telling me she could break the wards binding me here. I couldn’t turn that down.

“My love, what’s wrong?” Lucien asks, pulling back to look at me. Our eyes meet as he wipes away my tears. “Talk to me.”

I sniffled. I felt like it was now or never. I either told him now or he would find out when I leave. I couldn’t do that to him though. It would break his heart to wake up one day and find me gone.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong,” He said, petting my hair.

“I don’t know if I can say it out loud,” I tell him, our eyes meeting.

“That’s okay, Princess” Lucien nods his head, concern written all over his face.

“You can’t tell Tamlin,” The crease between his brow deepens. “You can’t tell him, Lucien, please. Promise me.”

He watches me for a moment, confused and concerned but he nods. “I promise. I won’t tell him.”

“Feyre and Rhys’ bond wasn’t actually broken that day with Hybern. She’s has a plan to go back. She…she said she can break the wards that hold me here so I can— I can finally go home,” I tell him, his eyes widen but he doesn’t look entirely shocked at what I’ve told him.

“And I’m assuming you have the intention of going with her?” He asks, sadness tinged the words and the bond.

“I have to, Lucien. I haven’t seen Rhys in centuries. Centuries. And he thought I was dead the entire time until recently. I need to go home, I need to see him and the rest of our family,” I cried, hot tears sliding down my face. He grabs me, pulling me up and holding me. Stroking my hair and shushing me softly.

“You should go, Princess. You should go home,” He says, kissing my head. I pull back to look at him, searching his face.

“Come with me,” I whisper, grabbing his face. “You can come. You would love Velaris—”

“I can’t,” he cuts me of gently, stroking his knuckles down my cheek. “Not that I don’t want to. Fuck, it hurts just thinking about you being away from me but if the three of us disappear? Tamlin will flip shit.”

“And he won’t be able to get to us in Velaris,” I tell him, grabbing the hand caressing my cheek and holding it tightly. “We would be safe there, Lucien. We could have a life together, a real one. Our own place by the river I showed you. A proper mating ceremony. We’ve been talking about kids for a decade. We could happily and safely have them there.”

“I don’t know…” Lucien shakes his head and I can see the water lining his eye.

“Me and you, Lu. That’s what we always said. Me and you—”

“Always.” Lucien nodded, looking over my face. Taking in every detail like he was trying to remember what I looked like before I was even gone. “What if you go with Feyre and I come later? You have to go now, you’re right you can’t pass up this opportunity to go home. I understand that. But you can come back for me, right? I could help keep Tamlin away…for some time anyway.”

My tears break loose then as I sob against his neck.

“I know it’s the best option but I don’t want to leave you,” I cried, clinging to him as he pulled me into his lap, letting my wings cocoon around us.

“Sh, it’s gonna be okay, my love.” I feel his tears on my neck and my heart breaks.

It was right but it felt so wrong.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

“So you’re joining us after all?” comes Tamlins snarky comment as soon as I walk out of the manor. I roll my eyes, fluffing the ugly powder blue dress.

“Unfortunately,” I rolled my eyes at him, it was too early for his shit, but still smiled at Lucien when his arm wrapped around my waist, careful of my wings.

“You can stay here,” Tamlin retorted with an eye roll of his own. “That would be preferable.”

“Well my mate asked me to attend. As did my friend, even if you wish Feyre wasn’t my friend,” I sneered at him with a wicked grin.

“I would never say that,” Tamlin returned the sneer, baring his teeth at me.

“Play nice, Princess,” Lucien purrs through the bond.

“Not out loud anyway,” I gave a sweet smile. “You look beautiful,” I said, hugging Feyre and kissing her cheek before pulling Lucien away to our horses.

Lucien helped me onto my horse, a gorgeous black mare, her coat shining even in the darkness of morning—a gift from Lucien after I accepted the mating bond. I looked down at him with a smile, running my hand through his hair.

“You’re lucky I love you, I really don’t want to deal with Ianthe’s shit today,” I said, situating myself in the saddle.

“Ianthe’s shit is exactly why I asked you to come,” Lucien said, grabbing my hand and kissing the back of it. “I appreciate you coming anyway, your presence will make it much more tolerable for me.”

“Yeah, I know, come on, let's get this over with,” I said, urging him to his own horse. “I’m ready to get today over with so I can get drunk and dance with you under the stars.”

Ugh, he looks so good. I thought as his head dropped back with a laugh before mounting his horse, dressed in autumn colors he stood out perfectly from everyone else wearing the hideously bright spring court colors. I’d be covered head to toe in Night Court black if it was allowed. I’d have loved to see the look on Ianthe’s face if I had shown up today in all black.

We set off soon after everyone had mounted their horses and there were already hundreds of fae crowded atop the hill when we arrived. I fought the urge to bare my teeth when I saw Ianthe’s gaze lingering on my mate as he dismounted his horse and strided to mine.

“Ignore it. She’s not worth your jealousy,” Lucien said as he reached for my hand, helping me from the saddle.

“I’m not jealous. I’m protective. I don’t like the way she looks at you,” I say, running my hands over the collar of his jacket. “Like she’ll drag you away to have her way with you whether you like it or not.”

“That’ll never happen, my love.”

“Damn right it won’t, I’d break her hands if she ever touches you,” I huff, as a feline smile crosses his lips.

“You’re sexy when you’re possessive,” He said, leaning down to kiss me, first my lips then my forehead before extending his arm to me to hold onto.

“You better make this up to me later,” I grumble, as I would much rather be back at the estate hiding in my room.

“Oh, I will make it up to you, sweet girl,” Lucien promised, leaning down to whisper in my ear, “slowly, with my tongue. Over and over.”

My body flushed knowing exactly how good he is with that wicked tongue. His gaze turns heated knowing exactly what I was thinking, feeling exactly what I was feeling.

“Lucien,” Tamlin calls from where he and Feyre are standing. I glance at those full lips one last time before he’s gently pulling me, guiding me away from our partially secluded spot. .

Jurian is at my other side suddenly walking with us as we trail behind Tamlin and Feyre—also linked by the arms and the Hybern Royals. I had seen the gleam in Feyre’s eye before she turned away, like a wolf getting ready to play with its prey. It made me giddy inside.

I couldn’t wait to witness her revenge.

We stopped walking when Tamlin and Feyre did, reaching Ianthe at her stupid altar as she offered them a singular nod of head. The Hybern twins shifted impatiently, Brannagh had made comments the night before how they didn’t bother with such things in Hybern—practically implying that soon we wouldn’t be bothering with it either. Smug little bitch.

“A blessed solstice to us all,” Ianthe called out to everyone around and I don’t roll my eyes the way I want to.

I stood there through an endless string of prayers and rituals, acolytes pouring sacred wine and the blessing of harvest goods. A lovely, rehearsed little number. Lucien was practically falling asleep between Feyre and I.

Ianthe lifted her wine and intoned “As the light is strongest today, let it drive out unwanted darkness. Let it banish the black stain of evil.” I sneered at her, I knew those words were directed at me. My brother. Feyre. Our home.

“She’s lucky my wine doesn’t end up in her pretty face,” I silently told Feyre, watching her expertly hide her grin with the wine chalice—her silent agreement.

“Would Princess Brannagh and Prince Dagdan do us the honor of imbibing this blessed wine?”

I shared a look with Feyre as the twins frowned at one another—the crowd murmuring behind us. But Feyre stepped aside, smiling a pretty smile and gesturing to the alter for the royals.

“Drink and let our new allies become friends,” Ianthe declared before they could refuse. “Drink and wash away the endless night of the year.”

The two daemanti surveyed their cups, most likely searching for any hint of poison. Feyre kept that smile on her face, I couldn’t extend that same faux courtesy when the prince looked my way. I didn’t care enough to put on the facade.

They each barely sipped the wine before trying to step away from the altar. Ianthe cooed at them like children, insisting they stay at the altar with her, to experience the ceremony at her side.

“I’m bored, Luc,” I grumbled to Lucien through the bond as Ianthe continued on with her praises and rituals. Eyes finding Lucien every now and then, looking away when I send her a death glare—lucky she doesn’t know who I really am.

“I’ll be over soon,” Lucien chuckles, pulling me into his side with an arm around my waist.

Finally, Tamlin was summoned over to light the candle for the souls lost this past year. This part bored me too. Those souls were gone; they didn’t need a candle lit to bring them back to the light. But just as I was starting to lose my patients the sky was finally filling with streaks of pink as Jurian was called forward to recite a prayer as well.

It left only Lucien and I standing with Feyre in the circle of grass, the altar and horizon in front of us and the crowd behind us. The look on Lucien’s face drew my attention as he scanned the area and I could help the crack of a smile when I noticed something out of place. A miniscule little detail no one else seemed to notice—except maybe now my mate.

I watched as Ianthe stepped toward the hill’s edge, her golden hair tumbling freely down her back as she lifted her arms to the sky. The chosen spot was intentional. Only that marker that told her where to stand wasn’t in the spot it had been in when we first arrived.

Golden rays of sunlight finally broke over the horizon. Light filled the world clear and strong. The murmurs started through the crowd. Cries of a name, not Ianthe’s but Feyre’s.

That gorgeous light had not filled and surrounded Ianthe but Feyre.

Ianthe seemed to be the last to notice, to see the sun was not blessing her but Feyre.

She glowed so brightly, brighter than what seemed natural for this occasion but I didn’t care to question why. She was beautiful—shining as if she were the star that hung above Ramiel.

“Curse breaker,” some murmured.

“Blessed,” others whispered.

Feyre's face was one of surprise and acceptance, though I knew it wasn’t genuine, those around us wouldn’t read it that way. They would only see what she allowed them too. The shock and bafflement of Tamlin and the Hybern twin’s faces was ever satisfying.

But Feyre didn’t look at them. She turned to Lucien and I, her light radiating so bright it was almost hard to keep that eye contact. A friend looking to another for help. She reached a hand to Lucien then to me.

I knew Ianthe had to be losing her shit behind us but I was too enchanted by my brother's mate. Yes, this was all a show, but Feyre was special.

I took her hand, watching Lucien do the same. Then we shared a look, lowering down to one knee, pressing her knuckles to our brow. I knew the crowd behind us had followed suit.

I had never kneeled for a high lord of the Spring Court. I was Princess of the Night Court. Heir of Velaris. Princess of Dreams. I knelt for no one—certainly not for anyone of the Spring Court. Not now, not ever.

I was not kneeling before Lady Feyre. Or Feyre Cursebreaker. I was kneeling for Feyre High Lady of the Night Court. Feyre that led Prythian from tyranny and darkness. Feyre that saved my mate and thousands of others under the mountain.

“My high lady,” I declared to her. The only person besides my brother I’d ever sworn fealty to.

I looked up at Feyre, our eyes meeting before she looked to Ianthe, smiling a sweet smile, one that transformed to show a bit of that wolf hiding beneath.

[cressidagrey]

Masterlist - The Starlight Princess

Summary: 

There is a Pool of Starlight in the Spring Court. A piece of the Night Court that has no business being in the land of Eternal Spring. So how did it come to be?

Or: How the Spymaster of the Night Court starts hearing a voice, realises that no, he is not insane after all, frees a princess, kills a High Lord…and finds his mate all at the same time.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Epilogue

[bizarrelittlemew]

Rhys Darby on S2E6 🥹

also:

[turtiowo]

This is LeoSuya version of original post by @/sweepswoop_ from twitter/x

[world-of-wales]

The Princess of Wales June 2024 Photo Challenge ♔

❥ Day 11 - Favourite photo(s) of Catherine with the British royal family Catherine's relationship with the Windsor family is quite possibly one of my favorite things ever. She's the daughter Charles always wanted, is Camilla and Sophie's best friend, Anne and Tim adore her, and she's the ride-or-die for William's siblings Zara and Mike and their families. Edward is like the dorky uncle who’s almost a best friend. Even though we don't get to see her interact with the younger Edinburghs as much, the short time we do see them together only proves that she's like an older sister to them. And even I, with my complicated relationship with the Yorks, can admit that, despite what everyone would have us believe, the girl squad of Bea, Cat, and Genie proves everyone wrong with their friendship.

[applesjuice]

please read this manga it’s so funny

[daenysthedreamer101]

The cast of HOTD during the promotion for S2

masterlist

[azzysmate]

Back From the Dead - Prologue

Azriel x RhysSister Fanfic

Summary: Rhaen, sister of Rhysand, was supposedly dead for centuries, but what if she wasn’t? What if she was only trapped by something no one ever dreamed of being so dangerous? And what will happen when she appears at the border of the Spring Court and human lands barely alive?

1st Person POV - Rhaen

I hear a whisper of a voice inside my head, begging me to stay awake, to stay alive. I’m stuck, unable to lift my head or open my eyes. My surroundings are shrouded in darkness, and I can’t force my body to function at all. The only thing that registers is pain. The pulsing of my weakened heartbeat throughout my body. The pounding ache in my head. The burning scrapes in my back. The stabbing sensation in my feet.

My head is spinning, and the voice calls out to me again, “Rhae, stay with me, you have to stay awake…”

I know that voice. Its familiarity seeps into my bones and soothes my fear, but my eyelids are swollen shut. I can’t see them. When I try to pry them open, only the smallest bit of scenery comes in. Everything is blurred, and my memory fails to recognize the one who seems to be trying to save me.

Something squeezes around my waist, like someone wrapping their arms around me to lift me. All I can make out is obscured shapes and shadows.

“Please,” they crack out a plea, “Please, please, please.”

An overwhelming urge to comfort them hits me. I want to reach out and caress their cheek, tell them it’s going to be okay. Even if I die, they’ll be alright.

My body fails me again though, and when the unknown tells me to hold onto them, we jolt, and the sharp movement causes a cry of agony to rip from the back of my throat. I barely recognize it through the ringing in my ears, but it is coming from my own lips.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” they whisper against my hair, tucking me into the crook of their neck, “You’re going to be alright, I’m going to get you taken care of. I’m so sorry, Princess.”

The feeling of the wind making my hair whip around my shoulders finally penetrates through the torturous tenderness in my muscles. Then the name they called me sinks into my subconscious, sparking my past back to life.

It warms my insides, comforting me. A deep, soothing timbre that takes me back to my childhood. Learning to fly with my Mother and Rhysand. Being chased around by Cassian when I would practice my sneakiness by stealing his favorite dagger off him. Having Morrigan over for sleepovers and makeovers and crawling out of my bedroom window to go to Rita’s. Attempting not to stare at Azriel while we sat silently in the library, pretending to read until he’d smirk at me and tauntingly whisper, “Careful, Princess. You’re not subtle enough to go undetected by the Spymaster.”

An uneasy gasp of epiphany fills my lungs much too quick for my injured chest to tolerate. But it’s him, it’s his voice.

The Shadowsinger found me…

“A-Az…” I can only manage to choke out the one syllable of his name, but I know he hears it. His body tenses, and I wince.

“Rhaen,” he says, his tone still filled with anxiety, but there’s a hint of relief, too, “I’m right here. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay, Rhaen, I’m taking you home.”

“Ho-me,” I drawl out raspily, and then I go limp against him as everything fades back into darkness.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

3rd Person POV

Azriel sits in a chair right beside her bed at Madja’s, one hand under his chin, and the other gripping Rhaen’s hand. The one connected to an IV and a couple other types of wires or tubes that he doesn’t really know the function of, but when Madja hooked her up to all of these different machines, he didn’t protest. He trusted the healer, who’d stitched him up more times than he could count, and stood by in an unexpressed panic.

He wasn’t sure how he remained so neutral, he’d never felt this type of dread before. It was damn near impossible to keep his emotions in check when it came to the Princess, it had always been that way since the day he first met her. And now, seeing her again, especially in the state he’d found her in, it took every ounce of willpower to stay on the sidelines and let Madja work. Although he felt helpless the entire time, he somehow managed to keep it together until she let him know she would pull through.

Then, and only then, did he let Rhys know what was going on. He didn’t want his brother to lose her a second time. He was more than willing to carry that burden alone.

As he sat there, waiting for his High Lord and High Lady to arrive, he considered all the possibilities that could have played out in the years Rhaen had been presumed dead. If she’s been alive this whole time, where had she been? What had happened to her? What had she gone through? Who was she with? And who the hell left her for dead near the border of the human realms and Spring Court?

His first thought was Tamlin. Surely nothing would happen so close to his territory without his knowledge. Then again, there wasn’t much left of it since Feyre completely burned it to the ground under the pretense of no longer being mated to Rhys. After the war with Hybern, Tamlin withdrew into his beast form, and he hasn’t been heard from or seen much since. Perhaps it had nothing to do with him. Even so, he was partially responsible for whatever had happened to her and her Mother. There had to be something he wasn’t telling Rhys.

The Shadowsinger had half a mind to send his shadows out there to track him down and send him a message. Preferably a bloody one. He was smarter than that though, knowing it would start some mindless civil dispute, and things were only just starting to settle down among Prythian.

There were more important matters at hand, like making sure Rhae didn’t wake up alone. Making sure she would wake up period.

He inhales a slow breath, letting her scent consume his senses and pacify the doubt of her being real. The scent he was certain he’d never smell again. But she was here, right in front of his eyes, still the most breathtaking sight he would ever see. The relief he felt from her being alive was tinged with guilt. Guilt for what had happened to her. Guilt for not being able to stop it. Guilt for never telling her how he’d felt about her. Guilt for never truly revealing himself to her when that was all she had ever done with him.

The door swings open abruptly, pulling Azriel out of his thoughts and causing him to stand up so quickly, he knocked over the chair behind him. His hands went to Truthteller on his hip, immediately going into protection mode. Rhysand and Feyre were revealed once his shadows receded, and their terror struck expressions disarmed him.

“Rhaen,” Rhys whispers hoarsely, simultaneously hurt and relieved, then he addresses his Spymaster without taking his eyes off her sleeping face, “How? When? Where?”

Feyre moves in closer to him and laces their fingers together, the rims of her eyelids silver with tears, as Azriel answers all of his questions, “I found her at the borderline of Spring and the human lands about five hours ago. I came straight here. As for the how, I’m not sure. She was barely conscious when I found her, and as soon as she realized who I was, she passed out. Madja worked on her nonstop for three hours, and she only confirmed she would pull through about twenty minutes ago. She wants her to rest until tomorrow, so she gave her a sleeping tonic along with the fluids in the IV for rehydration.”

The muscles of Rhys’ neck ripple as he swallows, and he squeezes his mate’s hand tighter.

“So… she’ll be alright?” he asks hesitantly.

Azriel nods once. “I wouldn’t have told you if Madja wasn’t sure she’d come back from this.”

This doesn’t settle well with Feyre, whose eyes snap to Azriel in outrage, “You wouldn’t have told him?”

As stoic as ever, even though there was no part of him that felt that way inside, he replies, “No. I wouldn’t have.”

“What?” she responds icily, but Rhys cuts her off before she can give him a thorough tongue lashing.

“It’s alright, Feyre Darling. He was only trying to protect me.” Her confused gaze finds the side of his face, and he finally looks away from his sister to give her a reassuring glance. “Imagine someone telling you your Father was alive, unsure of whether or not he’d survive. You would drop everything to come and see him, only to have him die before you arrived. I’m not saying it would be the right choice, but it would be better than causing your heart to break a second time.”

The High Lady’s posture softens, along with her eyes when they make their way back to Az. “I understand your reasoning, and I appreciate you wanting to protect him, Azriel. I don’t condone keeping things like this from us, but it doesn’t matter now anyway. She’s going to be okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He only nods once more in acknowledgment. “So now we just wait?”

Rhys keeps their hands joined as he leads them to the opposite side of the bed from where Azriel stands and asks, “Did Madja say when she’ll wake up?”

“Should be out of her system in about twelve hours,” he answers, “The swelling has gone down a lot already, but she’ll come in to check on her periodically throughout the night. She says the cuts and scrapes will be gone by the time she’s awake, but she’ll be bruised and sore for a while yet.”

“Good,” Rhys sighs.

Az tightens the leathers that his siphons are attached to around his wrist and begins to walk towards the door.

“You’re leaving?” Feyre calls out to him.

Instead of making contact with her stare, his gaze locks onto Rhys’. “I’ll be back before the tonic’s cycle ends.”

Everything the Shadowsinger needs to know is conveyed through the expression on Rhysand’s face. He has the High Lord’s permission to make heads roll until he unravels the mystery of what happened to the Night Court’s Princess. He knows the limits. He knows the lengths he’s allowed. And that, along with his shadows and Truthteller, are all that he needs.

Within a second after he gets that confirmation, he’s gone, fading into the darkness he commands and on his way to find an explanation.

*First fic on Tumblr! I really hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think. If you guys like it, I will be posting more. Let me know if you want to be tagged 😘

[feyrescourt]

I just miss Feyre so much

[manhasetardis]

Grandfather: "Are you kidding? Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles…" Grandson: "Doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll try and stay awake" - The Princess Bride Part 2/?

[feyreswaterybowels]

⟡ Princess of Dreams ⟡

# 2 Lucien x Rhys!Sister

⟡ Part 1 ⟡ Part 2 ⟡ Part 3 ⟡

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Following the events of the Solstice ceremony.

Warnings/Tags: smut. implied past sexual assault. fluffy romance. feyre and Rhys’ sister being besties and wanting to destroy tamlin. possible grammatical errors.

Authors Note: All likes comments and reblogs are appreciated, welcome and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for part 3! Bold italics are mental communication, regular italics are inner thoughts. (Mood Board)

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It’s hours later when the intensely bright sun had finally sunk back below the western horizon, giving me back my beautiful night sky.

There had been more countless hours of…well of not much really but it was still exhausting to be standing around all day surrounded by thousands of flowers and brightly colored streamers, watching Feyre and Tamlin greet and speak to everyone while Ianthe followed around trying to explain what happened.

The cauldron had blessed her chosen friend, she told anyone who would listen—how the sun had altered its very path to show how glad it was for her return. I would silently mock her every time she repeated those words.

There hadn’t been many interested in her tale, and the ones that were showed mild interest at best.

Feyre had stuck close to us for a majority of the time. I didn’t mind. I felt extremely protective over her. Not only as my High Lady but as my friend. I may not have access to my physical powers but I could still enter a mind in half a second and destroy someone if they dared harm her.

I’d enjoyed watching this new Feyre. How confident and sure she’d become. When the adoring fae wished to touch her hand, weep a bit over her, thank her for all she’d done she would have cringed away before. Now she openly accepted their thanks and gratitude. Thanking them and smiling as any High Lord would. Mostly genuine. Though for some, like courtiers and sentries, she put on a better show.

After six hours many retreat to freshen up.

“Tell my brother I love him.” I tell Feyre when she hugs me as she leaves. She promises to tell him for me.

Lucien and I stay, watching as lunch is cleared away and the band sets up. I would give anything to be spending this day with my family, but I was always grateful to have my mate at my side.

So when the band finally started playing and the fae around us took to the dance floor I dragged Lucien up. He hadn’t put up much of a fight—we loved dancing.

And dance we did for hours. I had even stolen Feyre away from Tamlin a few times much to his annoyance and my satisfaction.

We laughed together, spinning around the dance floor. It reminded me of myself and Mor—how we would get drunk on wine at Rita’s and dance the night away. I couldn’t wait to have nights like that with Feyre, too.

I spun her back into Tamlins arms as Lucien stole me away this time, practically begging me to come with him to eat and I realized why when I noticed Ianthe prowling around the tables.

Even she couldn’t put a damper on my mood right now. We fixed our plates and seated ourselves. More wine in our glasses as we sat tucked off away from the largest parts of the crowd—talking in hushed voices and feeding one another as if we hadn’t been mated for nearly two decades now.

Eventually I had shifted from my seat to stand behind Lucien, playing with his hair while we watched those on the dance floor become increasingly more drunk. I started braiding his hair, a taunt braid along either side of his head, curling behind his pointed ears.

“Your hair is getting so long,” I tell him, those auburn locks well past his shoulders now.

“I know,” He says, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been thinking of cutting it—”

I gasp, drawing his attention up to me. “You better not!”

The laugh that leaves his mouth goes straight to my core. He reaches up and pulls me to bend over him so he can kiss me.

“Is that an order, Princess?” He asks against my lips and I grin.

“More like I’ll kick your ass if you do it,” I tease, kissing him again.

As I’m pulling away to go back to braiding his hair I feel eyes on us. Violet meeting teal and I bare my teeth in a wicked smile. I slide my fingers through his hair, gently pulling to tilt his head back, keeping eye contact with her as I lean down to kiss him again… stroking my tongue over his. He gasps in my mouth, reaching up to caress my head with a strong hand.

Anger lights in those eyes across the way and I grin as Lucien’s lips move to my throat, my free hand sliding around and down his chest—slipping under his shirt to feel heated skin.

I moan as he sucks on my skin, digging my nails into his chest and tightening my hand in his hair.

“Fuck,” Lucien growls, standing quickly from the chair, towering over me. “Come here.”

Then I’m being dragged away. I look over my shoulder smirking at Ianthe who is red in the face looking like she’s about to have a tantrum. She takes a step forward as if about to follow Lucien and I only to be stopped by Feyre, though I couldn’t hear what was being said before we disappeared into the thick woods.

“You’re nothing but trouble,” Lucien taunts, pushing me against a tree and attacking my mouth.

“You love it,” I gasp against his lips, reaching between us to work his pants open, ignoring the way the tree bark digs into my wings.

“Turn around,” he orders, but before I can move he’s got me spun around and pressed against the tree. “Hands.” Is his next order.

I present my wrists to him behind my back and his large hand wraps around them, pinning them to my lower back.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here, Princess,” Lucien says, the sound of his buckle coming undone making me shiver. “I want you to be loud enough that she hears you.”

I moan at that. Knowing exactly who he’s talking about without saying her name. Though it’s unlikely she’ll actually hear me from this distance over the music but the thought that she might? And probably had many times is something I love. She wants him so bad—not that I blame her. But to remind her he was mine over and over, that she would never get to have him made me feral.

I’m pulled from those thoughts when the skirt of my dress is being lifted, that hand of fire trailing between my thighs, rubbing at my wetness before ripping the stocking and panties I wore beneath.

“Tell me, sweet girl, are you turned on because of me? Or because you know she knows exactly what we’re doing out here?” Lucien asks, fingers sliding through my wetness, rubbing in that perfect spot until I was weak in the knees. Only held up by his weight pushing me against the tree.

“I asked a question,” He grunts, pulling that heat away from my center.

“Both,” I gasp out in a moan, needing his hand back. “Fuck, both.”

“That’s a good girl,” He praises, hand sliding back between my thighs, rubbing at me, two fingers sliding inside.

“Oh, fuck, Lu,” I moaned. His fingers weren’t as thick or long as his cock but they felt so good filling me up, curling perfectly to find that spot that had me seeing stars.

“I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” He leaned over me to breathe in my ear, careful of my wings, fingers pumping faster, “then on my cock. Then I’m gonna take you back to that party filled up. We’re going to tell everyone goodbye then I’m gonna take you home, tie you to the bed and have my godsdamn way with you.”

“Yes, please!” I cry out, clenching around his fingers, cumming entirely too easy just from the way he rubs that spot inside of me, just from the way his voice rasped against my ear.

His fingers slide from me but before I can protest I feel him press against me, pushing in, in, in until he’s fully sheathed inside of me. He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, the back of my shoulders between my wings. I wished he had ripped the damn dress from my body so I could feel his lips against my skin.

“That could be arranged,” He purrs, reaching around to grasp my breast, not realizing I had sent that through the bond.

“Lu, please,” I begged, pushing back against him. He hisses in pleasure, nipping at my neck before straightening his spine, still holding my wrist as he pulls his hips back, thrusting all the way back in. “Yesss.”

Then he fucks me. Hard and rough.

Bent over against a tree in the middle of the forest. I let every sound imaginable fall from my lips exactly the way he ordered me to. Between the events of the day, the flirting, the unwanted looks from another and the wine I was falling over the edge easily for the second time.

He slows his thrusts, giving me only a moment to catch my breath before he’s pulling out and spinning me back around. My knees buckle and I fall to the ground directly in front of him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so fucked out she can’t even stand,” Lucien coos, grasping my chin gently to tilt my head up, sliding his thumb into my mouth. I suck on the digit, batting my eyelashes at him, watching that fire burn in his eyes.

He reaches down, grabbing me around the waist and hauls me up, lifting me easily into his arms, my dress bunching between us. My arms and legs wrap around him and I kiss him. I can’t help it.

It only takes some slight maneuvering before he’s back inside of me, my calves over his forearms as he’s thrust into me. It was always such a turn on the way he could hold me like this, so easily, as he took me.

The bond suddenly lights up with warmth and my mind goes blank as I come again.

“Fill me up. Please, cum in me, I want it.”

I can feel how close he is without him saying anything. The sounds he’s making, the feelings through the bond. I know exactly when he’s about to cum and I moan as he fills me up

“So good, that was so good, Luc.”

He moans, eyes meeting mine and I smile at him. Pushing a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead.

He takes a few gasping breaths, holding me in his arms still, basking in the high of his orgasm. I wrap my wings around us as we stand there, providing us with some form of privacy should anyone stumble upon us.

“We should get back,” I tell him, kissing the tip of his pointed ear. Wanting nothing more than to just skip out on the goodbyes and just go back to the house.

“Just another minute,” he said breathy, one of his hands reaching to grasp my ass cheek. “Just wanna be inside of you.”

“Mm. We could just go say our goodbyes like this,” I offer, playing with the braid I put in his hair earlier. “Unfortunately that means quite a few males would see me with your cock—”

Lucien growls at that and I giggle when his eyes meet mine. “I would kill someone.”

I hum in response, kissing him.

“The thought of you killing someone simply for seeing my body shouldn’t be so sexy.”

His hearty laugh vibrates through my body—my favorite sound.

“Come on, Princess. Let’s get this over with so I can get you in my bed,” He says, slipping from my body and setting me getting on my feet, making sure I was steady before tucking himself away.

We take a few moments to collect ourselves, kissing softly between straightening the other clothes and fixing disheveled hair. Of course no one was stupid. They would scent the smell of sex on us but that didn’t mean we had to make it any more obvious.

By the time we got back the sun had been long gone from the sky, dozens of blazing fires lit the area now. I didn’t spot Ianthe anywhere but Feyre finds us within moments of us taking up a spot by the fire.

We had meant to say our goodbyes but Feyre offered me a glass of wine. Which led to another. And another. We danced with one another around the fire—Lucien taking turns spinning us around. I had no idea where Tamlin was and I honestly didn’t care.

It was when Feyre asked Lucien and I to escort her back to the manor. Being ever the gentleman he agreed. I was much more drunk than Feyre but Lucien offered an elbow to each of us, letting us hang on him as he led us back to the house.

We left Feyre at her bedroom, I giggled out a goodnight, grabbing her face and kissing her cheek. As we were turning away I tripped over my foot and giggled again.

“Luc, I’m drunk,” I said, as he grabbed my arm, wrapping it around his neck.

“Yeah, Princess, I know,” Lucien chuckled, leading me to our bedroom.

I felt so light and blissful, letting him undress me and clean me up. He pulled the pins from my hair and cleaned the makeup from my face sliding a nightgown onto my naked body.

He laid me back, pulling his comforter over my body, tucking me in tightly. “Get some sleep, sweet girl,” He smiles down at me, kissing my forehead.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

I woke up hours later to Lucien tossing and turning. Ever since the Mountain his sleep was more restless than not, dragging up traumas old and new.

My head pounded from all the wine I’d drunk but I watched his face, still peaceful despite the unease of his sleep. It was when a horrified grimace crossed his face that I took over. When I felt the bond run ice cold with fear, when I got a glimpse of that nightmare—one he’s had before, where it starts with Jesminda’s torture and right as she’s about to be executed she changes into me as Beron and Lucien’s brother’s force him to watch me be murdered.

I slip into his mind, caressing it gently, ending the dream easily before it gets to that horrid part. I crawl next to him, laying his head in my lap and carding my fingers through his hair, braiding and unbraiding pieces, scratching at his scalp gently.

Instead I show him Velaris, the life I want us to have there together, the life we always talked about.

Living in our home right on the river. Late night stroll under an endless diamond sky. A long and happy life with beautiful red headed, winged babies. All the adventures we could go on together when no longer stuck in the boundaries of the Spring Court. Having the bond declared in a ceremony, a proper wedding, going swimming in the Sidra, taking him to see Ramiel—there was so much I wanted to do with him.

We’ve had a good life together here in Spring. He had done everything to make it better for me once he realized who I was, that I was stuck here. Picnic dates by the pond, visits to farmers markets, naps under beautiful trees, drinking wine, horseback rides, festivals and gardening.

But we could have a better life. An amazing one instead of a good one and I wanted to spend it with him.

He shifts, arms wrapping around my legs, nuzzling against my thigh, pressing his lips to my tanned skin but he doesn’t wake. I lull him into a deeper sleep, thumbing away the crease between his eyebrows.

My head whips up at a sound across the hall, Feyres room. I listen carefully, hear her door open. Then there’s a gentle knock on our door. She must have had a nightmare too…maybe I should start checking in on her at night.

I gently untangle myself from Lucien’s embrace, pulling the bed sheet over his body before sliding from the bed. There’s a second knock just before I reach the door. I scanned her head to toe quick—sweaty and disheveled but not physically harmed.

“I heard you, are you okay?” I asked, stepping to the side to let her into the room, scanning the hall for any sign of trouble. There seemed to be nothing.

The room was lit mainly by the moon light and I watched her look around the room. The night gown she wore was above mid thigh but she turned around to look at me before I could question her motive.

“I had a dream about it,” she rasped thickly, “Under the Mountain. I couldn’t remember where I was.”

I nod my head in understanding. Lucien had similar dreams. I wanted to kill Amarantha all over again for what she had done. To Feyre. To Lucien. To my brother. To thousands and thousands of fae.

“What did you dream of tonight?” I asked, stepping closer to her.

“She had me spiked to the wall like Clare Beddor. And the Attor was—” She shuddered, running her hands over her face.

I walked closer to her, a frown on my face, wanting to provide her with some kind of comfort. There’s something in the house, a vibration, I feel it but before I can question it she’s thrown her arms around me. I don’t object as she buries her face against my neck, warm tears falling on my bare skin. I let out a small sigh, sliding an arm around her waist, the other caressing her head, stroking over her dark golden hair.

“I’m sorry, Feyre,” I breathed, kissing the crown of her head. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Her cries and tears eventually subside but I continued to hold her. Allowing her to take the comfort she needed from me. I pulled back slightly, caressed her face gently, wiping away the remaining tears. I looked at her, I knew she could see the concern in my eyes, but there was something else in hers, something not completely of the fear and sadness she was presenting.

“Why are you—”

“What’s going on?” Tamlin’s deep voice rumbles through the room. I turned my head slightly to look at him, he stood there face a mask of cold calm, the beginnings of claws glinting at his knuckles—looking as if he’d caught us in the middle of something naughty.

“I had a nightmare,” she explained, pulling, straightening her nightgown. I fought the urge to smile. “I-I didn’t want to wake the house.”

Tamlin knew I didn’t sleep in here most nights. Lucien either slept in my room or we slept separately, so in his eyes Feyre had to have been seeking out the comfort of Lucien after her nightmare.

He just stood there staring at us. Eyes glancing at Lucien before looking at me with narrowed eyes, a glare that I returned. His mouth tightened into a thin line and I nearly snarled at him—those claws still half drawn.

“I had a nightmare,” Feyre repeated sharply, walking forward to grip Tamlin’s arm, turning him but he looked back at me. I crossed my arms over my chest and smirked at him as she led him from the room closing the door.

“You little shit, your lucky Lucien wasn’t awake, Tamlin would’ve killed him,” I told her crawling back in bed with my mate.

“I wouldn’t let that happen. I needed to plant some kind of doubt in his mind. You seemed to do the trick though,” Feyre’s answer came five minutes later, laughter in her voice.

“You should have told me I would have kissed you right in front of him,” I teased back, sliding under the sheet, cuddling up to that warm body.

“Next time,” Is her response, a mental image of her winking and blowing me a kiss followed.

I laughed out loud.

“What’s going on?” Lucien asks, a slight frown on his face at being woken suddenly.

I grinned, kissing his chest.

“Nothing, my love. Go back to sleep,” I whispered, easily slipping into his mind to lull him back to sleep.

I grinned to myself.

“Burn it down, Feyre” I told her. “Burn it all down.”

Fuck Tamlin. And fuck the Spring Court.

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tag list: @sleepylunarwolf @stained-glass-eyes0708 @saltedcoffeescotch @cherry-cin @xmalfoyweasleyx @jesskidding3 @minaethrym @scorpioriesling @inloveallthetime @paleidiot

[cressidagrey]

The Starlight Princess: Prologue

Summary:

There is a Pool of Starlight in the Spring Court. A piece of the Night Court that has no business being in the land of Eternal Spring. So how did it come to be?

Or: How the Spymaster of the Night Court starts hearing a voice, realises that no, he is not insane after all, frees a princess, kills a High Lord…and finds his mate all at the same time.

Warnings:

Discussion of a flirtation 300 years in the past, Discussion of the Death of Rhys' Mother and Sister, Feyre being nosy, Cassian serving all the gossip

(thanks to @tsunami-of-tears for the dividers!)

“Can I ask you a question?” 

If Feyre could still ask him that question, Cassian was pretty sure that he was definitely not hard enough on his High Lady. 

They were back to training, even hard-won peace was not a time where one could slack off…and Feyre had wanted to return to it after the pregnancy with Nyx and everything that had happened. 

So…Cassian got to teach his High Lady. 

And his curiosity was piqued now. “Yes, of course,” he responded carefully.  What was this about now? What question did Feyre have for him? 

“What was her name?” Feyre blurted out and he stared at her. 

Of all the questions, she could have asked of him, that one was not one he had expected. 

“Whose name?” Cassian asked. Who was she talking about? What name didn’t she know? What name…

“Rhys’ sister,” Feyre clarified. “What was her name?”

Oh. 

That question…

Well, he understood why she had come to him with that question. Though it did surprise him that Rhys had never…never even mentioned her name to Feyre. That he had never…

Cassian remembered her. Of course, he did. Even centuries after her death, she wasn’t somebody Cassian would ever forget. Not just because of who her big brother was, but because…

He would never forget seeing her unattached head. 

He would never forget Rhys’ screams of utter turmoil and terror. He would never…He would never…He would never forget that cold wrath on his face…Would never forget everything that happened afterwards…How Rhys had become High Lord, his ascension overshadowed by the death of his sister and mother…and his father…a whole family snuffed out. 

And for what? 

But even without all of that…Cassian would never forget her. 

He would never forget the girl seemingly glowing with magic, the perfect princess, controlled within an inch of her life. 

There had only been very few things that could crack that perfect facade…

His brother had been one of them. 

“Seren. Her name was Seren,” Cassian answered the question finally, his voice hoarse. “Rhys never told you her name?” 

It didn’t lay quite right with him. But then, if there was one thing that he had…realised centuries ago, then that everybody grieved differently. 

Some took comfort in talking about the fallen…and then there were some who didn’t speak of it at all. 

Cassian had seen both. 

He could understand both in a sense. 

And Rhys…in a lot of ways, he fit the second. 

“No. He has talked about her…sometimes…but…” Feyre shook her head. 

“Her name was Seren,” he repeated again, for one moment fondly remembering her as a child. She had been…She had been beautiful. A spitting image of Rhys in a sense, the same dark hair, the same startling violet eyes…her magic dancing on her skin, and her innate abilities on display. The older she had grown, the more she had reigned all of it in. He still didn’t know if it had been her father’s fault or if she herself had realised that she was putting herself at risk, by showing her abilities that obviously. 

 “She was also called the Princess of Starlight by the people of Velaris…When she was a kid, she used to glow with magic,” he continued with a soft smile. 

She had been stunning. 

Still half a girl, not yet a female grown the last time he had seen her, over a year before her death…

She hadn’t deserved her death. But then who did? 

Nesta had reminded him of her often…The similarities were definitely there. Both had been more blunt than anything, though that habit had been beaten out of Seren by her father until she acted like the princess she was supposed to be. But he had never managed to break her will. Iron-willed and with a spine made out of fucking adamantium…Seren had been a sight to behold. 

“Did you know her well?” Feyre asked him curiously, but he shook his head

“I did know her, but I wasn’t…I was never that close to her…by the time she was…by the time she was born, we were all adults. She was just 17 when she died. Rhys was in Illyria...I was a grunt in the army…The one that was closest to her was Azriel,” he recounted. 

A noise of surprise escaped Feyre. 

“Azriel?” she repeated, surprise colouring her tone. 

Cassian nodded, swallowing. It was something that was unspoken, never voiced aloud. 

But Azriel had taken her death the hardest, giving himself the fault for something that wasn’t his fault.

Then, Azriel had already been Spymaster. And Cassian knew…Cassian knew that Azriel still thought that his shadows should have been accompanying Seren and her mother when Tamlin and his brothers had ambushed them. 

Azriel still thought that he should have known that this was a possibility…should have been aware of the risk. Should have prevented it from ever happening. 

“He used to work for Rhys’ father,” Cassian said quietly. He didn’t want to even imagine the horror of these years for Azriel. He knew that this was still something, centuries later, that Azriel muddled through. “And I always…” Cassian broke off, not daring to voice it aloud. 

“What?” Feyre asked curiously. 

“They were close,” he finally said quietly.  “Seren was three weeks shy of her 18th Birthday when she died. I always wondered if…if she had made it…if three weeks later, the mating bond wouldn’t have snapped for them.” He had had that thought so often over the centuries. 

Wondered if Seren’s death hadn’t taken away every chance of a mating bond his brother had…a chance at happiness. 

Feyre stared at him, blue eyes wide. 

“Was Azriel in love with her? What about Mor?” she asked, quietly, and Cassian shrugged. 

“I don’t think he ever would have allowed himself to act on it,” Cassian said carefully. “She was a princess and he was just an Illyrian bastard. But he would have given his life for her. Do not doubt that for a second, Feyre. She was so young when she died. Too young. And Azriel would have never allowed himself to act on whatever he was feeling…And even if…Mor and him…He knew that that would have never worked out. He knew that then. And I think that after Seren died, he just clung even tighter to Mor.”

Mor was still alive. Mor was the only one that Azriel could still protect because in his mind he had failed horribly with Seren.

“Seren was…she was pure political capital,” he said darkly. “Her father was very much aware of that. He would have married her off to any other court in this land…and a mating bond with Azriel wouldn’t have stopped him. He was already planning on it…The perfect princess with starlight dancing at her fingertips…and daemati abilities that make you and Rhys look like a bad magic trick humans conjured up,” he recounted with a snort. 

Nobody had ever stood up to Seren’s mental abilities. None. 

“She was better at it than Rhys?” Feyre asked, a small smile on her face and Cassian couldn’t help but laugh softly. 

“Even Rhys was powerless against her. He may had more magic…but Seren wasn’t to be underestimated. She plucked thoughts out of your head without anybody noticing. It was…startling. And even her own father knew…” 

“Knew what?” Feyre asked as he hesitated. 

“He knew that one day there was going to come a time where his children would topple his throne…a day where Seren and Rhys would join forces…and not even the cauldron could have helped him then.”