He's Never Seen Cassian So Tied Up About Anyone Like This, Let Alone A Female He Uses Care When Approaching

he's never seen cassian so tied up about anyone like this, let alone a female — he uses care when approaching the subject, keeping his taunts to himself, for the sake of his brother's open vulnerability. it's only when he realizes the hurt in his brother's eyes, that rhysand scowls, fingers drumming against the arm of his chair. " she has been going down a dark path. feyre has expressed her own concern, as well. " his tone is kept neutral, biting down the resentment that lingers. her treatment of his mate had been excruciating to watch, to know that it'd been effecting cassian too ... rhysand finishes off his glass, resting his cheek against his fist. " perhaps, we can all discuss further steps together. she can't keep going on like this. " if it's what he suspects, if there is a bond between them, a warning won't keep cassian away — but there is a chance that this will end in only heartache for him. " just ... don't allow yourself to get too close, if she'll even allow it. for your own sake. "

he gives only a huff in answer to rhys's statement, throwing back the rest of the liquid in his glass then before more appears in its wake. he's rather grateful to the house for filling it for him, but nothing will take his thoughts fully from the archeron sister a few rooms away. he listens to his brother, somehow managing to focus enough on his words to form some of his own. ❝ i don't... i don't know. ❞ a lie. he knows damn well why it bothers him so much, but aside from being too afraid to say it out loud, he's worried his brother will laugh at him. not for any particular reason, but the worry is still there. shifting as rhys settles beside him, the two of them now drinking together as they have more times than he can even begin to count, cassian goes on. ❝ i'm trying so hard, rhys. seeing her destroy herself... i can barely take it anymore. ❞ he'd never try to control or dictate the female's actions, but he's afraid of what might happen if he can't step in and help her in the right way. he looks to his high lord, a sad look about him. ❝ she's different around me. sometimes. and just when i think she's opening up, she snaps at me. ❞

@feydarling : [ massage ] sender notices receiver looks tense, steps up behind them, and massages their shoulders

he's lost in his own shadows, tendrils of star kissed blackness twisting around his figure, enveloping until he is merely a silhouette. lost in thought, there is a comfort that the night sky brings — as if the cool wind sings to him the answers he's seeking. it's all mounting up: the promise of war, the attack on the library, his mishandling of mor & the night court ... the last few days have been mistake after mistake, his confidence shredded to ribbons. if rhysand can barely manage the preparation for battle, how is he supposed to lead them to victory?

rhysand hardly registers feyre's presence, the familiar sound of her steps drowned out by his thoughts. however her touch breathes life back into him, a reminder that she sees him, darkness & all. she doesn't shy away from it, but embraces it. his jaw unclenches as her hands travel to his shoulders, his wings tucking in tightly to give her better access. the shadows fade into a mere mist, before disappearing entirely, the light in his violet gaze returning. he tilts his head to press a kiss to her knuckles, murmuring into flesh. " i thought you would be asleep by now. "

" scared? " rhysand laughs, allowing her to lead him through the tavern. " if you insist. allow me to think of some wicked punishment for you, when i win. " he runs a hand through his blue - black hair, whatever desperation & lust that lingered on his face washed away in an instant. it's replaced by an amused smile, as he stalks behind her, his palm guiding the small of feyre's back to help steady her. to see her like this, carefree ... alive. with the color returned to her cheeks, so magnetic. a side of her that he never thought he'd witness, maybe didn't deserve. it unravels rhysand in a way that he could never begin to explain, his heart beating so fast that he'd thought it'd explode.

rhys leans against a wall, hands sliding into his pockets as he sizes her up. the power behind feyre's throw, the splintering of the wood, lights up his features, shoulders shaking with a quiet laughter. he anticipates his win, already. " very nice. although, i don't remember the objective of this game being see who can bring the tavern to ruins the fastest. " he takes his darts in hand, pausing to face feyre. " i've thought of my conditions. if i win, you have to dance with me. " it's said baldly, stars dancing in his violet gaze. " and since i am a fair high lord, you may decide your winnings. "

he turns to aim up his shot, before throwing the darts with swift precision & ease, as if he could hit the bullseye with his eyes closed. he very well could. a casual smirk appears, stepping back to look at feyre with a matching shrug. " though, i wouldn't hold your breath. would you like to wave your white flag now, feyre darling? "

i was able to ignore his obvious shift in demeanor, the same way i was able to block out my own fleeting whims — relieved i still possessed enough restraint to prevent us from making a mistake we’d both regret. frivolous flirting was harmless, but a kiss, in public, would’ve been earth shattering. i refused to think of those potential repercussions now, instead downing my own drink and rolling my eyes — a subtle smirk threatening to break through, as i lost control of my features. “ do your worst. a wager then. best of three. name the stakes. unless you're scared. ”

i jumped to my feet, much too fast — horrified to find myself gently swaying with the room, my intoxication immediately amplified as i gripped the back of my chair. how had i gotten so drunk? i steadied myself before i could humiliate myself any further, leading the way to the back of the tavern once i trusted myself not to fall. i grabbed a handful of metal darts, grazing my thumb over the sharp points, as if the cool, prick could ground me. truthfully, i had never played before, and this was perhaps not the time to start — but his natural, competitive edge and wry smile roused something in me every time. i threw my first dart with a strength and ferocity that i forgot i possessed — half of the dart splintering as it hit the board, pieces ricocheting back towards me and rhysand. shock ruminated on my features, before i relaxed my shoulders, unbothered by any prying eyes -- channeling his casual indifference. “ i must get some points for that. ” a simple shrug, “ your turn, high lord. ”

rhysand rests his chin upon knuckles, head tilting ... truthfully, it's rare these days for him not to be so on edge. with all of the information they've been gathering on hybern, whatever is going on between him and feyre. his lack of sleep is the perfect cherry on top. it's all said with a single glance, a small shrug — dodging the question at hand. " if this is another attempt at getting me to go to rita's with you, i'm afraid you'll only end up disappointed. though, i'm sure cassian will have no objection. "

the blonde only lifts a brow at rhysand, as if daring him to continue on with that tone. she knows he's only teasing her, though, that eventual smile forming on his lips then growing on her own. ❝ hey, don't be mad that i'm perfect at my job. i don't see why i should be punished for that. ❞ she'll chuckle, mor striding closer to her high lord only to take a seat in the nearest chair. one leg crosses over the other, brow raising again. ❝ what's got you so uptight? maybe a break would do you some good. ❞

i was meaningless. her thoughts echo over the bond tying them together, loud enough that his lips part to object, to bring her any sort of comfort — to ensure feyre of what tamlin hasn't. that he'd do whatever it takes, give his own life, to make sure she leaves this mountain alive. he decided it as soon as she showed up: the human girl who has kept him going, without even knowing it. it was now his turn to repay the favor. but the risk of amarantha catching even an inkling of how important she is to him … it’s enough to kill his urge. he’s already risking too much with these visits, as is.

but that softness lingers in his features, that mask becoming harder & harder to wear around her. everything he has gone through, every awful command he has followed, the faces of everyone he’s had to kill. it all flashes before him, with enough detail to make him flinch. after all of these wasted years, he was barely surviving. his will to live had been shattered, any hope of seeing his family again lost, until he started dreaming. visions of quiet peace suddenly flooded his mind, then: beautiful paintings, soft hands, sunlight beaming through trees onto the forrest floor. to know of such an existence out there, that wasn’t plagued by all of this darkness, pulled him through. gave him some semblance of hope that had been lost long ago. how cruel the cauldron must be … to show him all of that, just to make him watch as all of that light is killed. to make it worse, she doesn’t even know. how he’s survived — it’s all thanks to her human heart, too.

rhysand shrugs, that sadness traded for a cold exterior, as if he suddenly remembers the part he must play again. even if she knew, would she be happy to hear it? that she helped such a monster continue on … the disgust in her gaze, every time she so much as looks at him speaks enough. & suddenly, all of that sly charisma is turned back on, forcing a smirk that’s unable to meet his eyes, finally allowing himself to glance at her. “ i’m more adaptable to the darkness than most, feyre darling. “

my final trial was fast approaching — just a couple more nights and it would all be over. certain death awaited. i knew amarantha would never let me out of here alive, but i would still do everything i could to ensure that tamlin and the others had a fighting chance. my life had been forfeit the moment i went under the mountain. all we would have left were a few decades — an otherwise, insignificant amount of time in a immortal high lord’s powerful existence. i was meaningless. they would all forget about me as soon as i was gone. my human heart was failing.

my nights had blurred into days, as i accepted my looming fate. somehow rhysand had become my most frequent companion — the most pitiful part of myself was almost grateful for it. even if that meant being subjected to his depravity and condescension, it was still somewhat better than being left to waste away on the cold floor with nothing but my doom and despair. rather it was simple boredom or a ploy to get under tamlin’s skin that brought him here, i no longer had it in me to care. i ignored his attempt to place any doubt in my mind — i knew not to question tamlin’s heart. i knew that even in his silence and stoicism, he was protecting me in his own way — even if that lack of acknowledgment was killing me just as slowly.

i didn’t move from my spot on the ground, leaning against my knees to relieve my aching back. i’m sure i looked as pathetic as i felt, crouched in the corner surrounded by filth. i blinked up at rhysand — it’s perhaps the nicest thing he’s ever said to me, that anyone had for months. i did not understand this side of him — such a far cry from the high lord who had almost crushed my mind with a flick of his fingers, or the one who sauntered through the throne room with his head held high. there was the slightest hint of defeat that hung from his shoulders now, just as it did mine. perhaps, because i was so tired of fighting, and of being alone, i found myself asking, " how have you survived for so long down here then? "

what form of love do you embody?

[ love is knowing all of someone and loving them anyway ] when tim kreider said "if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known" and when joe wright said "The idea that these two people know each other, knew each other when they first saw each other. That they recognized each other from their future" and when micah nemerever said "it was a relief and a horror to be known so perfectly"

tagged by: @luminour & @literare tagging: @feydarling, @valkyrd / @dayqyeen, @socialpolicy, @chaosfable