Teenage Feysand Pt. 4
Warning: This chapter has references to sexual abuse
A lot of Angst in this. Don’t shoot me. Also, parallels to the actual books in this part, so all rights to Sarah J. Maas.
I was awoken by the sound of footsteps on stone. I sat up and slumped back against the wall behind me. The rigid stone cut into my back, but the pain was a welcome feeling to the dread that had washed over me. I had been down in this cell for what felt like days.
No one spoke to me. No one brought me food or water. I sat alone and stared at the walls around me, drowning in my own thoughts. That was when the flashbacks started hitting me:
I was in a different cell, the walls covered in my blood from my most recent punishment. The King of Hybern was smiling down at my broken form with wicked delight. I looked up at him with a promise of death in my eyes. I knew when I had chosen to take my sisters’ place as his prisoner that it would be hell. Hell was only the beginning of what I was experiencing. I was beaten daily to the point when death was ready to take me away, but he would always heal my wounds and bring me back. This day, I had refused to do my daily chore of cleaning his chambers, and he had beaten me with a large staff until every rib was cracked, and I blacked out due to the pain.
“Such a naughty little human. Tell me, Feyre, if you do not like to make my bed, why don’t you do me the honor of lying in it?” the king whispered as he shook me awake with his booted foot. The pain was so severe that I vomited all over his shoes. He only laughed darkly, “I won’t have you if you are in this state. Do feel better, and remember that you can stop this at any time by agreeing to my offer.” With that, he walked out of my cell, and I was once again left to lay on my small pallet of clothing scraps.
I would never accept his offer as long as I was still breathing. He wanted to attempt to turn me into High Fae by using an extraction spell to steal power from the High Lords across the sea in Prythian. The very thought of becoming anything like those awful creatures made me want to end my suffering by my own hand.
As I lay down that night, I thought of the sky. Not the vast blue of the day. That had always reminded me of the time my family worked in the fields as slaves to those beasts. No, I thought of the night sky, with stars as far as I could see. I cried myself to sleep as I did every night since I was brought to that forsaken castle, and prayed that I’d one day get to see the night sky again.
I was pulled from the memory by the sound of the iron door of my cell being unlocked. I sat up from where I had slumped against the wall and craned my neck to see who was coming through that door. My heart jumped as I saw a head of black hair come into the room, but my face fell when I realized it was only one of the guards.
“The High Lord would like to see you now for questioning,” the young male said as he made to help me up. I almost balked at the kindness, but allowed him to pull me up. My legs barked in pain at the effort it took to walk after hours in a sitting position. I straightened my back despite the protest from my aching muscles and held my head high with pride. The guard led me down a dark corridor to a stone staircase. When he motioned for me to go first, I must have looked shocked because he simply said, “You may be a prisoner, Miss, but you’re still a woman, and I will always allow a woman to go first. It is common courtesy.” I gave him a tight smile that he took as gratitude for his chivalry, and we began our trek up the long staircase. Three hundred stairs up, he motioned for me to veer off down another hall to the right of the landing. I let him lead this time, calculating how much of a threat he may really pose if I decided to make my escape. He seemed to know what I was thinking because his hand never left the weapon at his side. After what seemed like a lifetime of walking, he finally stopped at a thick wooden door.
He opened it a moment later and motioned for me to go inside. I walked into the room cautiously and felt my heart drop when I looked around the room. I was not afraid of the High Lord of the Night Court perched at the head of the long obsidian table that took up most of the room. No, what made my stomach turn and bile rise in my throat was the Hybern commander that was sitting next to him.
Never in my life had I been so…furious with anyone. When my father had sent Feyre away, my first instinct was to shove him as hard as I could. I let the leash on my power slip as I shoved him, and the entire mountain of which the camp sat upon shook. Fear, genuine fear, flashed in my father’s eyes as he was slammed back into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster. He winnowed a second later before I could land another blow. Coward, I thought as I beheld the wall where he’d just been. There, inside the plaster, was a perfect imprint of my father’s body.
A dark smile ghosted my lips at the damage, but it quickly faded as I realized the events that had just taken place.
My mother stood at the entrance to our dining area with her arms wrapped around her delicate body. I walked to where she was standing and took her into my arms, squeezing so hard I’m sure it hurt, but she was the only thing keeping me from exploding. She squeezed me just as hard and rubbed my back.
“I will forever be grateful for all your father has given me since we mated, but I will never forgive him for the decisions he is choosing to make,” my mother whispered into my chest. I nodded my agreement and stroked her hair.
“We’re going to get her back, Mom, and you can be the one to beat Father’s ass for this,” I replied with a breathy, humorless laugh. Her returning laugh mirrored mine as she looked up and stroked my cheek.
“I do not wish to see your father ever hurt, but I cannot wait to see what an amazing ruler you will become. My darling, Rhys,” she said and then she was walking out onto the porch of our tiny house.
“Cassian! Azriel! I know you’re circling above this house. Get down here this instant. There is no time for sulking when your brother’s…girlfriend—crush? — is trapped in that godsforsaken place,” my mother shouted into the night. My brothers swooped down from where they indeed had been flying in circles over the house, waiting for my father’s departure. Cassian looked like he was ready for bloodshed, and Azriel’s arms were already cloaked in shadows. I’m sure I looked as distraught as I felt because Cassian cringed when his eyes fell to my face.
“Dude, I want her back too because, let’s be honest, she’s damn good to look at, but I didn’t realize you were whipped already,” he said as Azriel quickly smacked the back of his head.
“That is not helpful at all, Cassian, and as I recall, Rhys was the only one who held you while you cried when your favorite stuffed animal got its head ripped off,” Az said.
Cassian looked at Azriel incredulously and rubbed the back of his head. “HE was the one who ripped Mr. Twinkle’s head off!”
My mother looked between the three of us and shook her head as if she was rethinking why she ever had children, much less took in two more. We all smiled at her innocently.
“So here is the plan,” she said slowly to get every point across, “We are winnowing to the Hewn City, which is where Rhysand’s father has Feyre. Cassian, Az, you two are to get Rhysand into the dungeon without anyone triggering the alarm. I will distract my mate while you get Feyre out. She probably won’t be in the greatest of shape, but she will have to at least stand. Understand what we must do?”
We nodded our agreement, and I grabbed Cassian and Az as we disappeared into stars and dust.
My old tormentor, the one who beat me all those times for the king, was seated next to Rhysand’s father, talking as if they were old friends. Amarantha turned to me when Rhysand’s father addressed my presence and flashed me her infamous blood red smile. A wave of nausea hit me as I remembered those teeth grazing my breasts. The memories must have flashed in her mind too because her gaze drifted down my body lazily.
I had been starving then, so she was taking in the new, full curves of my well-fed body. Her black eyes seemed to light up as they drank in the new hard planes of my stomach. Rhysand’s father watched our interaction with cool amusement.
“I wonder what my son would say if he found out that you once preferred females,” he said amusedly. I did not let the disgust show on my face.
“I did not prefer females. I did not have a choice in the matter at all”
Amarantha straightened at that and rolled her eyes. “Come on Fay-ruh,” she said, drawing out my name as if it were a plea coming from her lips, “We had fun together. Don’t you remember the way I made you beg?”
I did remember. I also remembered that whenever I refused to pleasure her, I would find myself tied to a table and tortured, both sexually and just physical pain, until I was bedridden for days. I distinctly remember screaming when I relieved myself because of how sore and raw I was. I shuddered then, and she took that as a sign that I was getting turned on. She stood and made to come circle me like a lion circling wounded prey. I whimpered when she fisted her hands into my hair and leaned to whisper in my ear.
“Remember when I would grab you like this and fuck you?” she hissed and snatched my head back. I cried out in pain as tears stung my eyes. The High Lord of the Night Court made a tsk tsk noise, and Amarantha reluctantly let go and sat down again.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, wiping the tears that escaped down my cheeks. Rhysand’s father looked bored as he replied, “I merely want to know what power roils in your veins as we speak. Since you were Made, and you possess some of Beron’s gifts, I am curious as to who else’s powers that you stole.”
“I stole nothing. These powers were given to me, and it was not my choice,” I said and I cursed myself as my voice wavered. Amarantha purred at the quiver in my voice and licked her lips. I cringed and focused my attention anywhere but on that sadist. Rhysand’s father merely snapped his fingers, and another guard came in and escorted me out. He was not courteous like the last guard, and he shoved me down the hall and into what appeared to be a giant throne room.
“Kneel, bitch,” the guard hissed and kicked the back of my knee with such force that I fell to the ground. Black splintered in my vision as I tried and failed to lift myself up. Amarantha’s laugh drifted to me from the throne she now sat upon. Rhysand’s father looked at me as if I were a fly that had been circling too long and was about to be swatted.
Just then, someone pulled me up onto my knees and slapped my face. The stinging in my cheek was nothing compared to the pain I was feeling in my chest. My heart, my still-human heart, was breaking at the hands of the father of the boy that I…
I couldn’t bring myself to even think those words now because I would never get the chance to say them. I just bowed my head and accepted the blows as they came.
We winnowed into a long corridor that led to the stairwell that would take us down into the dungeons. Cas and Az slipped off into the shadows to despose of any guards that may come looking. I began walking down the stairs two at a time. I reached out with my power to see if I could slip into Feyre’s mind. I was so entranced that I didn’t see the guard to my left until I received a blow to the head. I whirled and kicked out, bringing the guard to his knees. I held his mind and rendered him unconscious. Before I could alert Cassian and Az, I was hit from behind again. Consciousness slipped from me as I heard the guard laugh.
I awoke to a female scream piercing the air. I groaned as I sat up and rubbed the back of my head where a lump was surely forming. I looked around to see that I was in the throne room of the Hewn City, and I was not alone. My mother was staring at the floor and trying to escape the grip my father had on the back of her dress. Cassian and Azriel were restrained by a group of guards in the corner of the room. I felt a sense of pride at the bruises on the guards, the evidence of my brothers’ struggle to be held. A woman with deep auburn hair and obsidian eyes was seated on my father’s throne. But all of this slipped away as my eyes fell to the beautiful body of a girl crumbled on the ground.
“Feyre!” I shouted as I tried to crawl towards her. I was met with a shield of hard air. I slammed my power against it, but the wall wouldn’t budge.
“Rhys,” Feyre groaned and turned her bloodied face towards my voice. I could see the bruises forming on her cheeks and counted how many there were. That was how many hours I was going to take killing everyone that had touched her.
The auburn-haired woman stood from the throne then and walked to where Feyre lay. Slowly, so slowly, she pressed her heeled foot into Feyre’s side. Feyre screamed in agony, and I vomited all over the floor.
“Please, leave her alone. Please,” I begged. The woman turned to me then and cold amusement flashed across her face.
“I guess this is the one you left me for, Feyre,” she said in a cheery voice, “I wonder how good he’d feel to play with. Shall we see?” She started making her way towards me.
Even broken and bleeding, Feyre stood and shoved the woman away from me. “Amarantha, if you so much as lay a finger on him, I will kill you.”
The woman, Amarantha, laughed, and I watched in horror as she summoned a knife from somewhere and shoved it through Feyre’s chest.
I screamed. Not because the girl I was in love with fell to the floor, but because I felt the knife as if she had stabbed me instead. The wall of air shattered as Feyre hit the ground, and I crawled to her, a puddle of blood already pooling below her.
“No, no, please no,” I whispered as I pulled Feyre into my lap, “Hey, Fey, look at me. Don’t stop looking at me, okay? Listen to my voice.”
She nodded and kept her gray eyes locked with mine. I could see it then, like a black chain between me and Feyre, that now shined like brilliant gold.
“Mates…” she whispered as the realization clanged through her. Despite the situation, I smiled down at her and brushed a piece of hair from her face, “Mates,” I whispered back.
Her face was pale, so so pale, but she smiled back at me. My father’s gasp filled the room as he sensed the bond between Feyre and I. As he realized he had allowed his son’s mate to be killed in his court. I looked at him then with simmering rage etched into my features.
Amarantha was still holding the knife when Feyre whispered, “I love you, Rhysand,” and let her eyes close.
“No…Feyre! Feyre! Wake up. Please baby wake up,” I begged as tears fell down my face. I snarled when Amarantha took a step towards us and instantly misted her into a blast of blood. My mother’s scream pierced the air as Feyre’s body slumped against my chest.
My father, utterly horrified, stepped down off the dais and over to where I sat cradling my dying mate in my arms.
“Son, I had no idea. I thought that she was some sort of spy. I didn’t want to risk it with the coming war with Hybern. Amarantha had contacted me before and told me of Feyre’s past dealings with Hybern. I had no idea she was your mate. I swear it,” he said. He looked back to where my mother was sobbing on the floor, but she did not meet his gaze. A sob broke from my lips as I stroked Feyre’s hair.
“Just bring her back,” I said as I looked down at her face. He looked from me to Feyre and then back to me. Darkness flared from his hand as he laid it against Feyre’s bleeding chest. I reached out for her mind and felt a sliver of life still there. I stroked the walls of her mind gently with my power, trying to coax her to come back to me.
I grabbed that chain between us and snatched it.
I felt her draw in a breath, and relief clanged through me as she opened her gray eyes to glance up at me.
“So, does this make us even for me leaving you on that bank?” she said and groaned as she tried to sit up but failed. A broken laugh escaped my lips as I crashed my mouth to hers.
She kissed me back just as hard until she winced in pain. I leaned down and rested my ear against her chest. We sat like that, with her in my lap and my head against her chest listening to her heart beat, for hours. My father left the throne room after begging my mother to forgive him, to which she told him to go to hell. She came over to where we were clinging to each other and told us to go get some sleep while they sorted this mess out.
I flew Feyre to our moonstone palace at the top of the mountain and laid her feet on the floor of the large bathroom.
I grabbed a wash cloth and some soap and handed it to her. She cleaned her face and neck as best she could. I gave her my shirt so she could change out of her ripped clothes. When she made her way out of the bathroom, I picked her up and laid her onto the bed gently.
She reached out for me when I turned to leave, so I crawled into the bed next to her, wrapping her as tightly in my arms as she could stand it with her injuries.
“You never said it back,” she whispered sleepily.
“What?” I asked softly.
She leaned up slightly and winced with the weight of propping herself up, “I told you I loved you, and you didn’t say it back.”
I looked at her incredulously, “Did you miss the part where I begged my father to bring you back to me? I thought that was ‘I love you’ enough,”.
She rolled her eyes and replied, “Just say it. Unless it’s not true.”
I shook my head but pulled her tighter to my chest.
“Feyre, you are a pain in my ass. You are the biggest tease I have ever met. You make me want to choke you daily, and fuck you until neither of us can walk,” I said as her eyes widened, “But, I am irrevocably in love with you. I think I have been since that day you dismissed me like I wasn’t a future high lord. You make me feel normal. I love you, Fey. I felt it today when you almost died, and it felt like my entire world had been ripped from me. Don’t do that ever again.”
She smiled and nuzzled deeper into my chest, “I love you too, Rhys. I guess I’ll try not to die again.”
When I felt Feyre’s breathing even out, I finally allowed sleep to take me.