say yes, run away now
a/n: first up in my quick feysand drabble(ish) series! here's a take on ACOMAF right after rhys and mor rescue feyre from the spring court — i'm playing fast and loose with canon to build in a marriage of convenience. first paragraph comes directly from ACOMAF!
for @popjunkie42, even though i did not answer your actual prompt at all. saving it to come back to later!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. ✧・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“As your presence here isn’t part of our monthly requirement, you are under no obligation to go back.” Rhysand rubbed at his temple. “Unless you wish to.”
I felt sick. Unless I wished to. As if any of that mattered to the male who had just locked me in his house, even when he knew what it would do to me. He knew. “He’ll come for me.”
Rhysand stood from the low couch opposite me. “And if he does, we’ll be prepared. We’ll even come for him first, if you like.” He smiled, but there was no warmth behind it. Nothing but thinly veiled rage leaking from his skin like smoke under a door. Only destruction on the other side. My teeth chattered despite the warm air in the mountaintop palace.
There was a steaming mug in front of me, the scent of sweet spice inviting me to take a slow sip. I felt Rhysand’s eyes on me as I drank, saw the way his posture relaxed as I drained the cup. I hadn’t felt thirsty until the cup was pressed to my lips. I set the mug down, and a thought occurred to me that sent my heart into my throat.
“Your shields are holding, Feyre darling,” Rhysand said. “But I can tell there’s something you’re not sharing. Tell me, please.”
I swallowed hard, wishing I had another mug. Maybe something stronger. “If I had married Tamlin, would you have called in our bargain?”
Rhysand clenched his jaw, eyes going a darker shade of violet — near black. “What are you asking me?”
“If I had married him…would you have been allowed? I mean, could you have taken me?”
Something dangerous glimmered in those eyes. “It would have been difficult. There are…” He paused, tilting his head. “The same protocols that made it so Mor had to take you from Spring would have hampered me calling in our bargain if you were married to Tamlin, yes.”
So even in Prythian, a female needed marriage to have any semblance of autonomy. Not so different from life below the Wall. It made my next move crystal clear. “So if I were married, Tamlin would find it…difficult to collect me.”
Rhysand growled, a purely animal sound. “Feyre, I swear to you that you are safe in the Night Court. We have our own sentries — my own generals and spies — who will ensure that he doesn’t cross into this land.”
I shook my head. “It’s not enough. It won’t be enough — you know it.” My voice grew frantic. I had to convince him. “You know what he’s willing to do,” I said.
Across from me, Rhysand paled. Then he took a deep, steadying breath, inky black like a starless night sky rolling off of him in waves, and sat beside me. “So what exactly is your plan?”
“What?” Rhysand went completely still. “You have no idea what you’re asking.” His eyes were wide, like that moment when he said goodbye to me Under the Mountain, after I had been brought back by the High Lords.
I bit my lip. “If you marry me, I can stay here. I’ll be protected.”
“I’ll protect you anyway.”
“But if I’m your wife — ”
“By the Cauldron. You’re serious.” He looked pained.
“I understand that it’s not ideal.” I pictured it: Becoming Rhysand’s wife, Lady of the Night Court. In name only, just for my safety. “It could be a small affair, just us and a high priestess.” I shuddered on the last word, remembering Ianthe.
Rhysand pinched the bridge of his nose. “You want us to marry so that Tamlin will have no further claim to you.”
I nodded, palms going slick. He could easily refuse, and then what would I do? “You hate it,” I said softly.
A long silence stretched between us. His eyes closed, and he slumped a little. I waited for the rejection, for him to politely extricate himself from the situation. Then he looked up, violet eyes meeting mine, flecks of stars circling his pupils. “I hate that it could actually work,” Rhysand groaned.
My heart pounded faster in my chest. “So you’ll do it?” If this worked, if it kept Tamlin from capturing me and forcing me back into the Spring Court, I’d be safe. Free. For once in my life.
Apart from being tied to the High Lord of the Night Court.
“Feyre,” Rhysand started, taking my tattooed hand in his, “if this is really what you want — if you understand what this means…what you’re giving up, then yes. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe. Even this.”
My eyes were drawn to his hand curled around mine. “I do.”
Beside me, a dry laugh. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”
I exhaled, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. There was so much still to cover — my powers being most important, given the destruction in Tamlin’s manor — but so long as I didn’t have to go back, I could chip away at it all. Slowly, and with Rhysand’s help.
Together…for better or worse.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. ✧・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
