Rhysand Steps Out From The Shadows, The Wicked Mask Of Viper Slipping To Reveal Something More Vulnerable,

rhysand steps out from the shadows, the wicked mask of viper slipping to reveal something more vulnerable, more tired. the prince of darkness, cruel & cunning, stripped down to just this: a prisoner, finding solace only in these moments. feyre's cell was the only place he could let this facade slip, even for just a moment. even if she looked at him with such hatred, sees him only as the monster he's become so good at playing, it was a welcomed break from the torment of their captor ... the insults hurled at him from the others trapped, plaguing his every thought. her whore. that is all he will be in this story, all he will be remembered for — but the sacrifice, his family's safety, velaris still untouched. it's worth it.

" isn't that sweet? " the loneliness flashing in his eyes comes & dies out just as quick, hand running through his hair as he leans against her cell wall. to love someone so much, that you would willingly put yourself through this torment. if only she knew they weren't so different. " i have no question of your heart. " she's proved herself enough. but he puts himself in tamlin's position more often than he'd care to admit, what it'd be like to feel such love ... how he wouldn't be able to just sit there & watch, without a single word. not lifting a single finger to put an end to this. he would never be in his position to begin with. he put himself here to avoid his family going through what she is.

he waves off the criticism of the high lord that dares to slip past his tongue — whatever hope she has in him has to stay intact for her next trial, he's said enough. " your human heart is what's keeping you alive. " even if tamlin is undeserving of it.

@rhysie said: “You really do love him, don’t you?”

“ of course, ” it’s stated simple and clear, presented as the obvious fact that it was. there was nothing in the world in which i was more certain. i only wished i had realized it sooner. i should have told tamlin well before he sent me back home. if i could have gone back in time i would have screamed it from the rooftop, begged him to let me stay and help him break the curse. together we could have saved his court and neither of us would be trapped down here. it was my pride and arrogance that had secured our fate — my reluctance to admit the truth getting the best of me until it was too late. the intensity of our love was now all i had left to hold on to — to remind myself why i was here and what i was fighting for. i held onto it desperately, a single lifeline. “ i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t. ”

“ why does that surprise you? you can’t really believe the lies she spews about human hearts. ” i studied rhysand’s features — my brow knitting as i contemplated the veracity of his question. his tone lacked the typical flippancy that defined his usual regard, instead replaced with a fervor i couldn’t quite place. could it be jealousy? no. it felt deeper than that — something dangerously close to bitter loneliness even. and for once, against my better judgment, i almost felt sorry for him, knowing he was as much of a prisoner as i was. cursed to a fate even crueler than mine. amarantha’s whore. no one had ever come to save him. even if i died in this desolate hell, at least i knew that for a moment i had been loved.

he feels relief wash over him, his sheer panic melting into some thing of hope. for the first time in weeks, with feyre by his side — rhysand can start to see the light at the end of this tunnel. it leaves him wondering why he deprived himself of this to begin with. the curse breaker, the defender of the rainbow ... his friend, his mate. any impossible hurdle in their way, feyre has jumped over time & time again, making it look easy. in her short life, she has already stared death in the eyes too many times to count. she has always figured out a way to survive, despite any obstacle. feyre was a survivor. & she's saved him, far more times than he ever could her.

rhysand hadn't realized just how much he needed that: her strength, her willingness to stay such a pillar of unrelenting power. unbreakable, never giving up. even when everything else around her is crumbling. her confidence, stern & commanding, is exactly what he has been missing. the only thing keeping him from breaking. feyre's done more in these few seconds to assure him of their survival, more than he could provide in the weeks that he's had to prepare for this. it's another painful reminder that he doesn't deserve her, yet she still stands by him. even through this. for that — he will always be grateful.

lips part to object nesta's return, though the fire in her gaze reminds him he's in no position to negotiate. the high lord only nods, moving to carefully tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. his hand trails to reach feyre's stomach, the movement of their baby all it takes for his tears to finally break free. a reminder of what this is all for. " you have my word. " rhysand's words are clear, packed with such fierce conviction. he glances down at his hand, clearing the lump in his throat. a poor attempt at humor. " am i sworn to the couch, or may i use one of the many guest rooms? "

“ i don’t despise you, ” i rasped, staring down at our hands, the crippling realization of what it would mean to let go or pull away again suddenly incomprehensible — knowing that no amount of hurt or anger could ever truly outweigh my need for him. especially in a moment like this, the looming threat of time and distance hanging in the air. the urgency and desperation in his voice tore me apart, as it echoed throughout my soul. i could barely stand the thought of furthering his torment. i glanced towards the newest mark on my arm, that represented our final bargain. a pact to leave this world together when the time came — a promise to never leave the other's side. a rash deterrent made out of fear and love, with little mind paid to the consequences. an oath to ensure we both continued to live out long and fulfilling lives ; we never in a million years thought it would come to this. a sudden and brutal end, with so much at stake and so many at risk of being left behind.

we're running out of time. now i was the one who wanted to fall to my knees — it took every ounce of mastery and self-control that i had to remain upright. all of my strength came from our son, as i reminded myself that he could feel everything i did through a bond more eternal and profound than even the one i shared with rhys. he needed me, they both did, just as i needed them. i did not want our child to know dread and fury as we did — to be consumed by the same terrors and resentments i had been. he would never want for anything — not a second would pass where he didn't know how safe and loved he was. how his parents fought for him through the bitter end, just as they had fought for each other.

it was for nyx’s sake, that i considered his father’s plea. i was not ready to forgive rhysand, but i could not do this without him. i would not give up, but if it was true and our fate was inevitable, and i wasted the time we had left . . . i swallowed, before my voice turned more even and stern — that of a high lady who knew which battles were worth fighting, “ you may sleep downstairs until i say otherwise. ” my free hand grasped his chin, ensuring he looked at me, as i fiercely held his gaze. “ we will get through this together, and you will follow my lead. first, we will bring my sister back and then you will keep your promise and spend the rest of our lives making it up to me. ”

@feydarling : fix. not looking like that — disapproving, you fix the sender's appearance.

he adjusts his cuffs in the mirror, catching a glimpse of feyre's reflection behind him. it earns a smile, her hair haphazardly braided with loose strands peaking throughout. a reminder that even now, underneath being high lady, the hunter from his dreams — the one who managed to defeat that wyrm, reckless & wild, still remains. rhysand turns to approach her, fingers running over golden brown locks, tongue clicking. " struggling without nuala and cerridwen, aren't we? what am i to do with you, hm? " he nods towards the chair in front of her vanity, guiding her to sit as he undoes the pins in place. " it's fixable. though, i doubt anyone will be focusing on your hair ... " a hand strays down to her exposed collarbone, fingers tracing swirls onto flesh before retreating back to the task at hand, leaning over to press a kiss to replace his touch. " such a high lady. "

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. ❞

for the first time in years, rhysand allows himself to relax. eyes flutter shut, soaking up every second of bliss that only seems to come in her presence. he can picture spending every night for the rest of his days with her like this, the image so colorfully displayed out for him behind his eyelids: feyre in his arms, as she tells him about her day. the kisses they would share — how easy sleep would find him. his imagination drifts to these thoughts most nights, only to wake up disappointed by cruel reality, his bedside cold.

her confession brings hope that maybe those dreams weren't so far off, after all. he doesn't remember the last time he has felt so seen beyond the image he had crafted of himself, or if he ever even has at all. rhysand swallows past the growing lump in his throat, eyes opening to meet the one's he'd felt on him, before pivoting to linger on her lips. wrapped up in her scent, with all of the courage she has given him, it would be too easy to kiss her right now. but the thought is pushed away almost as soon as it even begins. she's healing, maybe even still loves tamlin ... it's the last thing she needs right now. instead, he only shrugs, flashing a smirk as he meets feyre's gaze. " i tried to tell you, i am quite delightful. "

it was the safest i had felt in months — curled up in his arms, surrounded by a starry night that coaxed me towards a peaceful slumber. no one could hurt me here, no one could break past his power. he was here — i wasn’t alone anymore. as he whispered softly against my hair, my heart sputtered eagerly — goosebumps raising on my arms, as his fingers brushed against my flesh in soothing strides. my breathing quieted and evened out, chest raising softly as he comforted me, bringing me back down to earth. i continued to clutch his hand, forbidding both him and myself from daring to let go. for a quiet moment, we were the only two people left in the world and i wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

this was by far my favorite side i had seen of him. his touch was so tender and his voice so raw, so unlike the lord of darkness he had presented himself as. i couldn’t help but wonder how many others had been fortunate enough to truly know him in the quiet light as i did. i both pitied those that never would and delighted in knowing that this moment was entirely mine. a part of me never wanted it to end, almost afraid that once i woke up again, i’d realize none of it had been real. my eyes fluttered open at the thought, head tilting up to admire him — how he was even more beautiful in the dark of night. the way the shadows accentuated his sharp features and the stars reflected in his eyes, his mask slipping as he let me in. “ thank you for getting me out of there, ” i whispered, no longer meaning just amarantha’s underground prison. “ you knew i needed help before i did. i was wrong about you. ”

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