[feysandarcheron]

Tl cleanse he’s living happily ever after in his perfect palace in his perfect city with his perfect wife and baby and family rhysand the man that you are no one will EVER be you

First art by jessdraw.s on ig , second by virtual_bunny on ig, third by lexaarts_ on ig, fourth by god on the bible

[highprincessofthenightcourt]

Feysand Supremacy <3

I put two of my favorite pieces of Feyre and Rhysand fan art together to look at how they look side by side hehe.

Credit goes to carolineraeart and annastone.art

[the-lonelybarricade]

I'll Be Your Father Figure - Chapter 7

Summary: When Lord Archeron dies and is survived only by his wife and three daughters, a distant male relative steps in to inherit the estate and the care of the Archeron women.

Happy @officialfeysandweek! This is for Day 7: Family, hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 or read below on tumblr!

-

The mating frenzy, Feyre later learned it was called, kept them under its thrall for over a week.

"Mother probably thinks I'm dead," Feyre said on the first morning when she didn't wake with the ravenous urge to crawl inside his skin.

Rhysand was curled around her, his wing tucked over them like a blanket. "I don't see a need to correct that assumption."

She threw an elbow into his ribs, which he sustained with a chuckle and an apologetic nip to her ear.

"We're going back," she said sternly. "At least until my sisters are each married."

They'd already discussed his—during what little moments of sanity they had in between incessant bouts of fucking. Feyre thought she might have lost weight from the sheer amount of exercise and how little she'd been eating to replenish her strength. They'd only managed just enough to sustain themselves, only for as long as she could stand not having his cock inside her.

"How about we stay for the social season, have our wedding, and then insist we require a newlywed escape to the countryside, hm?"

Feyre could admit that sounded tempting, especially when Rhysand's hand scraped across the valley of her breast, taking one into his proprietary hold. She shivered as his thumb playfully circled one of her peaked nipples. He had a fixation on them, she noticed—but then again, that fixation seemed to extend to everything when it came to her.

"Your mother will have gotten what she wanted," Rhys added. "Next, she'll be insisting we give her grandchildren. And that is a duty I would be happy to fulfill, and the perfect excuse to retire to a private estate."

"But we won't actually be staying in the mortal lands, will we?"

He dipped his head, trailing kisses from her neck to her shoulder. "I'd like to show you my lands in Prythian, if you'll indulge me. I think you'd love the Night Court."

His voice took on a wistful edge, one that made Feyre's chest ache. Try as she might, she couldn't replicate that feeling about anywhere. No place had ever truly felt like home to her, but she had the sense that wasn't the case for Rhys. He spoke of his homeland, his court, with pride.

"We can go," she said. It was hard to tell if the spark of excitement in her chest belonged to her or her mate, their minds so deeply entwined she sometimes had trouble deciphering where she ended and he began. But Feyre had always been curious about the world that awaited beyond the Wall, and she wouldn't mind seeing it for herself. "But—promise nothing will eat me?"

Rhys gave her a positively wicked grin. "Can I be made an exception?"

She snorted. "As if you could stand to put that tongue away for more than a day."

"I couldn't," he said, emphasizing his point by sliding his tongue under her jaw. "I would miss the taste of you too much."

"You're insatiable."

He didn't deny it. If Rhysand had his way, they would have stayed in the cabin for another week—another month, even—dedicating their time to nothing outside of the pleasures of their flesh.

"There is one benefit to returning to the mortal lands," he mused, tracing an invisible pattern down her arm. Black ink appeared in the wake of his fingers, a design that slowly unraveled itself from her elbow to her fingertips. "I'll get to enjoy my own human wedding."

Feyre pulled her arm away with a gasp. "What did you do to me?"

"It's a bargain tattoo," he answered, daring to let his amusement show. "In the Night Court, bargains are permanently marked upon the flesh. I've had it glamored until now. The same way I hide my wings and ears to look human."

Her initial shock wearing off, Feyre was able to admire the design. From a distance, the tattoo looked like a lace glove, but closer to her face, she could see the intricate depictions of flowers and curves. It was art. Etched into her skin, like smears of charcoal that even her governess couldn't wipe off.

It thrilled her, but there was no chance she would be admitting that to him.

"I'm growing tired of your dramatic reveals, Rhysand." She grumbled. "Anything else you'd like to tell me?"

His silence was damning.

Feyre sat up, the warmth and safety of his wing falling away. "Oh my god, there is!"

She watched as he ran a nervous hand through his short, sex-mussed hair while her nerves grew into a tangled mass in her stomach. It had to be truly unspeakable if even Rhysand was having trouble admitting to it.

"Two things," he said finally.

She raised her brows, prompting him to continue.

"The first is the rite—the ritual that will bind your life to mine. I've already begun it without your knowing." Feyre narrowed her eyes. Rhys went on, "It requires mates to exchange their blood during an act of carnal desire. Mine, when you sucked my thumb in the woods. Yours, when I bit you during our frenzy."

Feyre looked down at herself, assessing her body for any change. "So, I'm immortal now?"

"Not yet. The final step is an offering. Similar to how a female must offer food to her mate to accept the mating bond, but this time, the offering is mine. A kernel of my magic." He presented his palm. A glittering teardrop emerged from his skin, rippling with a power that she had to look away from before it seared her eyes. "Once you take this, the threads of our lives will become permanently entwined. When we leave this world…" He swallowed. "We'll leave together."

She thought she understood, then, the magnitude of what he was offering. Not just binding her life to his, but the reverse as well. His powerful, impervious body would forever have a vulnerability in the fragile mortal at his side.

Her eyes began welling with tears. Rhysand's hand was immediately there, chasing them away.

"You're truly willing to take that risk?" She asked him.

"It's no risk. I don't want to live in a world without you," he said fiercely. "Not for a single second."

It wasn't a hard decision to make. Rhys could see the moment she decided, and the smile that spread across his face was one of relief, not fear. It mattered more to him that her life was made longer than that his might be cut short.

No one had ever loved her that much before.

Holding her gaze, Rhysand moved his glowing palm to the space just above her heart. He ducked to kiss her forehead at the same moment the magic made contact, swelling and burning as it wrapped around her heart. She cried out, falling into his arms as he held her, stroking her, murmuring soothing words until the sensation eventually ebbed.

"Do you feel different?" He asked.

Feyre looked down at her body again. Her skin gleamed with a strange light, and her fingers looked longer as she flexed them out along Rhysand's chest, feeling the steady heartbeat beneath. Feeling it in synch with her own. Forevermore.

"A little," she admitted, blinking in the details of him, which were sharper, clearer. "I feel… stronger, I think."

He smiled. "The true test will be another chase through the snow."

Of course he would suggest something so crude. Feyre snorted, but as the hunger swelled in his gaze, she froze. He smelled… She inhaled, registering the scent of citrus and the sea that had always been present, but now with something rich and masculine beneath it. The back of her mouth began watering.

"I—" She had to lick moisture back into his mouth. "I can smell—"

Rhysand chuckled. "You can smell exactly what you do to me," he filled in. Then he shamelessly leaned closer, skimming his nose along her throat to inhale her scent. "And perhaps now you understand why I'm so addicted to you."

If this was akin to what he could sense all along, then perhaps she could forgive him for his multitude of transgressions.

Except—

"What was the second thing?"

She interrupted him moments from sucking her neck between his teeth. "Hmm?"

Feyre shoved his head away, finding with satisfaction that she was strong enough, now, to actually push him off. "You said there were two things you needed to tell me. You only told me one."

"Oh," he said. "Right, of course. Nothing gets past my cunning little mate."

Another beat of silence.

"Rhysand," Feyre warned.

He took her hand in his. "As I tell you this, I want you to remember that our lives are now bound together. If you kill me, you'll also be killing yourself."

Feyre only offered him a hard stare.

Sheepishly, Rhysand told her, "It might have slipped my mind to mention I'm also High Lord of the Night Court."

-

Arhceron Manor was exactly how they left it.

When the carriage pulled up to the flagstone steps, Feyre had the strange sense that she was looking through Rhysand's eyes once again as she stepped out of the carriage to see her mother and sisters waiting, curtsied low to welcome their new Lord home.

But this was not a memory she was reliving. It was a current one. And the new Lord Archeron that stepped out of the carriage did so with Feyre in his hand.

"We're pleased you're home, Lord Archeron," mother said. "Thank you for so diligently looking after my daughter."

Rhysand affectionately chucked his gloved thumb under Feyre's chin. "It was the least I could do to tend to my betrothed through her illness. You're feeling much improved now, aren't you, Feyre?"

She smiled at him, warmed to see the adoration in his eyes and know that not an ounce of it was faked. Her only hope was that he could see her own fondness mirrored back. "I am, thanks to you, my lord."

Mother clapped her hands together. "It's true, then? You've proposed to my youngest daughter, and she's accepted? There will be a wedding?"

Rhysand nodded. "We'd like to honor your mourning period—"

"Oh, posh!" Mother interrupted. "We shouldn't allow death to interfere with young love! We'll begin preparations immediately. I think it would do us all a bit of good to have something positive to focus on."

Dark laughter echoed in the back of her mind. I think she's more excited than you are, Feyre darling.

She hasn't the slightest idea how annoying you can be. I think anyone's excitement would be dulled.

Funny, you didn't seem to find me annoying when you were riding my cock in the carriage.

"That's very considerate of you, Lady Archeron," Rhysand said, acting every bit the respectable gentleman mother assumed he was, even while whispering filth into her daughter's mind. "Now, I do think that Miss Feyre is overdue for some rest after her exhausting journey."

You're a scoundrel, Feyre seethed. Rhys sent her a sideways glance, grinning with his eyes.

"Oh, my darling girl!" Mother exclaimed, coming forward to clap both of Feyre's cheeks between her wrinkly hands. "I am so pleased to see you've recovered. Well done."

It was a curious thing. Feyre knew her mother wouldn't be nearly so pleased by her recovery if she hadn't returned engaged to Rhysand. Before meeting him, that knowledge might have stung her, made her feel that nobody cared whether she lived or died so long as she wasn't a burden.

Now, it was something she could observe as if behind a pane of glass. It made her capable of mustering a smile. Saying, "Thank you, Mother," without feeling bitter.

Because as she walked back into her family manor, she did so with Rhysand by her side.

And Feyre knew she would never feel alone again.

-

Bonus Epilogue

"Mother warned me not to let you in here, you know."

Rhysand slinked around her art studio with feline curiosity, studying each of her pieces with a disciple's rigor, like they might hold some deep secret to the world beneath the lines and shadows, and he was intent on uncovering it.

Even her comment hadn't been enough to throw his concentration. His eyes never left the canvas as he murmured, "Why's that?"

It felt strangely intimate, allowing him in here, watching him examine her work. He'd seen her naked and splayed in a hundred vulnerable positions before him, but none felt quite as bare as this.

Feyre nibbled at her bottom lip. "I think she worried you would find it unbecoming."

Perhaps it was the underlying shame thrumming through the bond that prompted his head to turn. His eyes glittered with mischief. "You know what she would find even more unbecoming?"

When Feyre tilted her head in question, his grin widened.

"If you painted me in the nude."

Even as she sighed, she couldn't hide the smile breaking over her lips. "Very well," she said, prepared to call his bluff as she reached for her brush. "Strip, High Lord."

Fortunately for Feyre, her husband was very good at following orders.

[highprincessofthenightcourt]

I just saw such a beautiful rendition of Feyre and Rhys, they’re perfect 🥹💕✨

(Credits to the artist jae.sketch)

[cursedeclipse]

it’s always MUGGY out in prythian because of these two

🎨: termesart

[leiaamidala]

𝑰 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅...

༻𖤓༺

⁣⁣⁣⤞ art by @adelikashere

⤞ commissioned by me

⤞ secret garden

༻𖤓༺

Instagram | Twitter | @elainarcheronweek

please do not repost.

[norabraveseeker]

𝑭𝒆𝒚𝒓𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 🌌🌙

“I wonder if some part of me knew what was waiting for me. That I would never be a gentle grower of things, or someone who burned like fire—but that I would be quiet and enduring and as faceted as the night. That I would have beauty, for those who knew where to look, and if people didn’t bother to look, but to only fear it … Then I didn’t particularly care for them, anyway. I wonder if, even in my despair and hopelessness, I was never truly alone. I wonder if I was looking for this place—looking for you all.”

Excerpt From

A Court of Mist and Fury

@amandapearls and I have been so excited to share this captivating artwork with everyone! We love our baby girl Feyre, and wanted to do a commission that showed her growth.

Thank you so much Sajuca for this GORGEOUS artwork! Feyre looks so captivating and powerful in this art! All the details are lovely 🩵

Sajuca.art it’s been a joy to be able to work with you! Thank you for all your kindness during this commission 🩵

Commissioned by @amandapearls & myself

Art by Sajuca.art

Characters belong to Sarah J Maas and Bloomsbury Publishing

[viridianartsblog]

Feyre and Rhys, as Hades and Persephone

«Hades, god of the Underworld, fell in love with Persephone, daughter of Demeter and goddess of spring. One day, he kidnapped her and took her to the Underworld to make her his queen. Her mother, desperate, stopped the growth of the earth until the gods intervened. Finally, it was agreed that Persephone would spend part of the year with Hades in the Underworld and part with her mother on Earth, thus marking the cycle of the seasons.»

I had forgotten what I had planned to do with uploading the rest of the fanarts created in 2024, this being 2/3 of those based on Greek mythology.

Rhys is extremely difficult to draw, but especially to paint. I remember erasing the sketch about five times, so I send a huge hug of admiration to those artists who do it so well.

I only have one more to upload! Remind me to upload it, ideally this week. What characters from Greek mythology do you think the fugu is about?

[jacksdreams]

Feyre finding solace in reading about different characters at spring court/moonstone palace after utm trauma was so relatable, and she looks so beautiful here🫶😭

🎨 by @/Lumirit comm by @/lvsfeysel and @/wesbrekker

[feyrescourt]

beautiful angel princess 🪽🤍🙂‍↔️☁️

🎨 by @_girl.in.books._ on IG

[highprincessofthenightcourt]

Someone just reminded me how even though Illyrian males are trained to protect their wings at all costs, Rhysand used them to shield Feyre from half a dozen fatal arrows and now I am broken again. This fandom is such a prison.

[jacksdreams]

High Lady of the Night Court 🖤

For Feyre week 😭

by gdeliarte

[jasmineandshadows]

Solstice Elriel 🥔🌸🦇

I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed.

*******

But I strode to my seat—nestled between Amren and Mor—in time to see Elain say to Azriel, “Hello.”

Az said nothing.

No, he just moved toward her.

Mor tensed beside me.

But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. “I—I’ll be right back,” she murmured, and hurried down the hall before I could explain that no one cared if she showed up to dinner covered in flour and that she should just sit.

*******

Azriel set the potatoes in the center of the table, Cassian diving right in. Or he tried to.

One moment, his hand was spearing toward the serving spoon. The next, it was stopped, Azriel’s scarred fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice.

Mor gaped wide enough that I was certain the half-chewed green beans in her mouth were going to tumble onto her plate. Amren just smirked over the rim of her wineglass.

Cassian gawked at him. “Wait for what? Gravy?”

Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

*******

Elain swept in, apron gone and hair rebraided. “Please don’t wait on my account,” she said, taking the seat at the head of the table.

*******

🎨 Art by @aurithemoon

✨ Commissioned by me

💙 Please do not repost. Reblogs are welcome! 

[jacksdreams]

“So I’m your huntress and thief?” His hands slid down to cup the backs of my knees as he said with a roguish grin, “You are my salvation, Feyre.”

🎨

[rosiethorns88]

Dropping the latest Sketch-a-Wish, voted on by my lovely Patreon members for May! Featuring Rhys, Feyre and their meeting with the Bone Carver from A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas! The moment Rhys broke the tension with his knee-hurting-when-it-rains secret, and the Bone Carver busting out laughing was my favorite moment. It cleverly showed the professional respect they have for each other, even though they're definitely not bosom friends. It also emphasizes how much the Bone Carver adheres to his own rules when he accepts it. It makes him such a charming little monster.

[feyreshumanheart]

I've seen people say otherwise, but Feyre's POV on Rhys isn’t at all unreliable. It's actually the opposite: she is by far the best POV we can get on him from a reader's perspective, other than Rhys's own.

Even discounting that Feyre has seen (and believed) the worst of Rhys so it's not like she's just been madly in love and thinking the best of him throughout her POV-

I stared at him, sending as much hate as I could into my gaze. He’d been the one who’d caused all this. He’d told Amarantha about Clare; he’d made Tamlin beg. “Well?” I bared my teeth. “Go. To. Hell.” -acotar

The reliability of her, and every non-omniscient narrator, is mostly rooted in how much they know and tell the reader.

And Feyre is the character who knows Rhys the best in the series. Feyre gets to see sides of Rhys that no one, not even his closest friends, do. She gets his thoughts and emotions through their mating bond. She relates to him and understands his motivations better. She spends more time with him, so we see more of his actions, words, thoughts, and feelings on page with her.

She is inarguably the best narrator on him because she's giving the reader the most information.

The king’s taunt to Rhys had been roiling through my mind for days now. Hybern expected him to give everything—everything—to stop them. Had claimed only that would give us a fighting shot. And I knew my mate. Perhaps better than I knew myself. I knew Rhys would spend all of himself, destroy himself, if it meant a chance at winning. At survival. -acowar

I knew why his eyes sometimes turned distant, why he occasionally just blinked at all of us as if not quite believing it and rubbed his chest as if to ease an ache. -Feyre, acofas

He’d always understood me best—more than the others. Save my mate. -Rhys, acofas

Bryce, Nesta, Ember, even Cassian, these other characters get pieces of Rhys and can (and do) draw incorrect conclusions about him as a result.

In an interview talking about seeing Rhys and Feyre from new POVs, sjm said of acosf:

"Rhys from Nesta's perspective, where she thinks he's like an arrogant douchebag and we know he's not."

Nesta thinks Rhys is arrogant, we see her think and get frustrated at that fact a lot, but from Feyre's POV, we see Rhys's vulnerabilities and doubts and learn about the facade of confidence that masks the truth:

I wondered, then, with his hands beneath my breasts and between my legs, what Rhys wouldn’t give of himself. Wondered if … if perhaps the arrogance and swagger … if they masked a male who perhaps thought he wasn’t worth very much at all. -Feyre, acomaf

Sjm says this because Nesta's perspective on Rhys is naturally limited because she doesn't understand him or really spend time with him. Nesta believes Rhys's arrogant mask because she doesn't know him well enough to doubt it, hasn't seen as many sides of him as Feyre, and isn't privy to his innermost thoughts.

It's also why she says stuff about Rhys that we know is untrue:

Rhys said tightly, “I don’t wish to be High King. I only wish to be here, with my mate and my people... I will not be High King. I will not consider it, not today and not in a century.” -acosf

“And Rhysand is … your king?” Nesta snorted. “He’d like to be.” -CC3

That's not to say Nesta or Cassian or whoever are unreliable narrators (none of the acotar narrators fit that by definition), but readers get less information about Rhys's actions and feelings and motivations from their POVs, so you have to guess at some aspects or use knowledge we have from Feyre's (or Rhys's) POV to understand.

Like how sjm was counting on readers would read Nesta's POV where she talks about how Rhys is so arrogant and know better because we'd seen moments like this before that prove thinks more lowly of himself than he seems:

“Perhaps I don’t know what I want, but at least I don’t hide what I am behind a mask,” I seethed. “At least I let them see who I am, broken bits and all. Yes—it’s to save your people. But what about the other masks, Rhys? What about letting your friends see your real face? But maybe it’s easier not to. Because what if you did let someone in? And what if they saw everything, and still walked away? Who could blame them—who would want to bother with that sort of mess?” He flinched. The most powerful High Lord in history flinched. And I knew I’d hit hard—and deep.

“The other night you told me you wanted a distraction, you wanted fun. Not a mating bond. And not to someone like me—a mess.” So the words I’d spat after the Court of Nightmares had haunted him. -acomaf

And Cassian knows Rhys a lot better naturally, but we know he doesn't get as much from Rhys. In acomaf and acowar, it's repeatedly shown and discussed how much Rhys tries to hide vulnerabilities from even the IC. It's why Feyre says above, "what about letting your friends see your real face?", because Rhys won't let Cassian and others see the full picture, going out of his way to do things like hiding his nightmares from them in acomaf. And while they're often aware something is wrong, Rhys is known to pretend with them.

Cassian even remarks on this:

Cassian had witnessed Rhys going deep into his own head often enough. Knew his brother was prone to withdrawing while appearing perfectly fine. -acosf

But we know, even before they're mated, that Rhys confides to Feyre things he won't tell the IC, like on Starfall:

“Every year that I was Under the Mountain and Starfall came around, Amarantha made sure that I … serviced her. The entire night. Starfall is no secret, even to outsiders—even the Court of Nightmares crawls out of the Hewn City to look up at the sky. So she knew … She knew what it meant to me.” I stopped hearing the celebrations around us. “I’m sorry.” It was all I could offer. “I got through it by reminding myself that my friends were safe; that Velaris was safe. Nothing else mattered, so long as I had that. She could use my body however she wanted. I didn’t care.” “So why aren’t you down there with them?” I asked, even as I tucked the horror of what had been done to him into my heart. “They don’t know—what she did to me on Starfall. I don’t want it to ruin their night.” -acomaf

There's even moments in acowar where Rhys insists something is true to the IC and then admits otherwise to Feyre:

“If Amarantha showed up at that door right now,” Rhys snarled, pointing toward the foyer entry, “and said she could buy us a chance at defeating Hybern, at keeping all of you alive, I would thank the fucking Cauldron.” Mor shook her head, tears slipping free again. “You don’t mean that.” “I do.”

Rhys murmured, “If she …” His swallow was audible. “If she showed up at this house …” I knew who he meant. “I would kill her. Without even letting her speak. I would kill her.” “I know.” I would, too.

Feyre's narrative is always going to be the best for the reader to understand Rhys other than Rhys's own POV because we get so much more of Rhys from her than we will get from someone else.

Another narrator won't let us feel Rhys's feelings, know the parts of himself that he hides from even his closest friends, get his unfiltered thoughts, and even just see him more because Feyre and Rhys spend so much time together.

Because that's another thing, Rhys isn't seen as much in non-Feyre POVs because they spend so much time with each other. That means we have to fill in certain gaps. We have to extrapolate from what we do see. For example, in acosf, Rhys tells Cassian he's having nightmares about Feyre dying and has a panic attack in front of him and shows impaired critical thinking in one or two scenes:

That Rhys couldn’t understand what Az meant told Cassian how distraught and terrified he was.

But most of Rhys's reactions are not shown to us beyond that; Rhys actually seems pretty composed most of the time with just the mildest indications of what we know: that he's a mess in a lot of acosf. We don't even know tons of details of how he learned about the baby having wings or what exactly is said, his immediate reaction.

Rhys panicking in front of Cassian is after he's spent several scenes with Cassian, knowing and freaking out, and Cassian only notices something's off because his smile doesn't reach his eyes and he seems distracted. Cassian was clueless how much of a wreck Rhys was until he confesses to him because of how good Rhys is with pretending he's fine and wearing a mask.

So we just have to make the intuitive leaps on what's going on with Rhys behind the scenes, whether his terror making him miss what should be obvious strategic connections in one scene means there are other things he's missing or other ways he's acting uncharacteristically.

There's just a lot that we don't know about Rhys in acosf because we just see him less and get told things rather than shown it as was more common in Feyre's POV.

Feyre also loving Rhys doesn't negate that she's also giving us the most information for us to judge his character, to actually understand him, to see beneath the surface of the masks he wears.

Through the bond in my hand, I could have sworn I felt a glimmer of pleased surprise. I checked my mental shields—but they were intact. And Rhysand’s calm face revealed no hint of its origin. -acomaf

I could have sworn I felt Rhys flinch through the bond. But my mate said calmly, “We did nothing. Hybern chooses its actions, not us.” -acowar

Feyre is constantly telling us in her POV that Rhys is externalizing something that contradicts how he really feels. Even beyond him confiding in her things he won't even tell his closest friends and showing sides of himself he won't show anyone else, Feyre understands Rhys better because she literally feels his emotions. This began in acotar, too:

“Your court fell, too.” Sadness flickered in those violet eyes. I wouldn’t have noticed it had I not … felt it—deep inside me. My gaze drifted to the eye etched in my palm. What manner of tattoo, exactly, had he given me?

And then she is also constantly relating to him, she understands him what motivates him and why he makes certain choices not because she loves him, but because she's like him and she recognizes this before she's even aware they're mates:

Rhys and I were one in the same—beyond the power that he’d given me. -acomaf

Feyre has a lot of similarities with Rhys, which is commented on by others:

He gave me a grim smile. “You can rely on us, you know. Both of you. He’s inclined to do everything himself—to give everything of himself. He can’t stand to let anyone else offer up anything.” That smile faded. “Neither can you.” -Cassian to Feyre, acowar

It's part of why she forgives choices he makes that she gets mad about, because she's able to see where he's coming from and just understands him:

But he'd known I'd react badly. That it'd hurt me more than help me. And what if I had known? What if I had known that Rhys was my mate while I’d loved Tamlin? It didn’t excuse his not telling me. Didn’t excuse the recent weeks, when I’d hated myself so much for wanting him so badly—when he should have told me. But … I understood. -acomaf

Rhys not sharing burdens with his family is a trait he shares with Feyre and one they acknowledge:

“They’d be happy if you let them shoulder the burden.” “The same way you rely on others to help with your own troubles?” -Feyre telling Rhys to confide in the IC the way he does for her, acomaf

She and Rhys have tons of parallels and similarities, but they also just relate because they understand (and even share) each other's trauma:

"I felt your pain, and sadness, and loneliness. I felt you struggling to escape the darkness of Amarantha the same way I was." -Rhys to Feyre, acomaf

Maybe he only understood because he, too, had been helpless and without choices, had been forced to do such horrible things, and locked up. -Feyre on Rhys understanding her trauma, acomaf

This was mentioned multiple times by sjm, too:

"Rhys has his own history that allows him to have some perspective on how Feyre might be feeling." -on Rhys being respectful and treating Feyre as an equal

"He and Feyre are both battling trauma, despair, anxiety, and tremendous guilt. And their journey from that dark place to learning that they are worthy of being loved and accepting love is so important to me." -on acomaf's healing journey

While none of this means people can't analyze Rhys outside of Feyre's POV, everything we see of Rhys inside Feyre's POV is intended context to understand Rhys's actions and motivations outside of her POV, when we get less information on him and have to extrapolate more.

That she loves him and thinks highly of him later doesn't change any of that, especially because we have tons of examples of readers liking characters that all the narrators dislike or being critical of characters who the narrator loves. Outside of if someone projects onto narrators that their emotions become yours, Feyre's feelings shouldn't really bias readers much, or obscure any of the information that can let everyone draw their own conclusions.

But because Feyre's POV on Rhys is the most complete, detailed, and informative one we have, the one that lets us really understand why and how and what Rhys does and thinks and feels, it is also the most reliable one.

[highlord-rizzand]

Feysand canon height difference