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The Tormented & The Unforgiven Part Two (i) | Azriel x reader

TW: Suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation, deep depression, anxiety, panic attacks, PTSD, sexual assault, graphic description of injuries.

MDNI

PART ONE

Just to note before you read, I have had to split this into two parts because Tumblr wouldn’t let me post it all as one because of how large it is (47k+ in total oops). But the next part will be posted immediately after this so no more waiting! 😊

Elijah kept your hands bolted to each arm of the chair with two knives. They pierced all the way through your palm and at least a few inches into the wooden armrests. The pain that came with it was among some of the less severe you had become accustomed to. It was downright trivial compared the burning agony of the large screw being slowly twisted into your foot. Out of anyone, his punishments were the most painful. Elijah held a crazed look in his eye, a corner of his lips quirking while he inflicted his torment. It made sense to you now. For him, it was a sick delight. He enjoyed making you scream, making you beg for death. He wasn't trying to extract any information from you, he was merely toying with his spoils.

"You," A series of deep, laboured breaths ensued. "You're sick. I know what you've done."

The Cheshire-grin that slinked across Elijah's face was terrifying. "Oh how clever of you. Unfortunately for you, it is your word against my own. You are a pawn in a game that was created long before you let the Shadowsinger into your home for the first time. However, a happy coincidence it has been, girl. I could've never imagined the enjoyment I could get out of this. A dull affair turned an excess of excitement." You bowed your head. He was right. No one would believe you now, not that Azriel had revealed who had damned you. How convenient it would be for you to reveal Elijah's treachery so soon after your former boss had told you he was involved in your capture. Not to mention that whatever evidence the second in command had procured was enough to convince your boss and colleagues of your unwavering guilt. A terrible hybrid of a groan and scream ripped through your already raw throat as Elijah twisted the screw another full turn into your foot. It wouldn't be long now. Your end was in sight, Azriel's patience would not stretch much further. The only things you had left to fear was the method that would kill you and The Mother's grace to allow you back into her arms.

As if on cue, a group of footsteps echoed down the halls. You had come to recognise Azriel's. The other two you weren't sure of, but you assumed The General was in tow. The final pair were a mystery. Elijah spun on his heel, ready to greet his boss. In an instant, he was down on one knee, bowing so low he looked as though he could kiss the bloodstained ground. "High Lord, it is an honour." Your blood ran ice cold. Your head shot up and beheld the three Illyrians, each one just as petrifying as the other. Though, the High Lord's power blanketed the cell, seeping into every crack and corner. High Lord Rhysand stared right into your fear-filled eyes. There was whispers and rumours as to exactly what this male had done. He could turn your brain to mush and leave you living. He could rip your mind to shreds, give you the most agonising death with little effort. The horrors of his victims had never been far from your ears. The male's stare promised the same fate for you. It had you scrambling to ensure your own mental shields were intact, as though you could resist the might of the most powerful High Lord in history.

Your stomach turned to lead and plummeted to the depths of your soul as you beheld the three males before you. They were a stark reminder of what the Night Court was known for. Brutality. Despite the kindness you had known from the blue-siphoned Spymaster, that was all a fever dream now. You locked eyes with the violet brilliance shining through the High Lord's, your High Lord's eyes. "My Lord, please. This is all a mistake. I've been set up." Your tone did not sound like someone who was begging for life. It was unnerving, a sound like that of someone who had already died.

A vicious, feline grin stretched over Rhysand's face. The General and Azriel stood on either side of him, bedecked in black and watching your every move; watched as your hands strained against the knives speared through them. "Now, now. Let's not get ridiculous." A long, pointed claw made a slow pass through your mental shield. It scratched, damaged it. Not quite cleaving your last defence, your last sliver of dignity, but compromising it.

Your eyes slid to the corner that Elijah had placed himself into, his earlier delight leeched from him as he watched the exchange with cold calculation. He must be shitting himself right now, waiting for the right moment to flee. As soon as the High Lord cleaved open your mind, he would see the encounter you shared with Elijah just moments ago. He knew that. Even if you died, the final truth would come out at least. A sly, crazed curl slithered across your lips to which Elijah's jaw tightened so hard that the grinding of his teeth filled the silence of the room. You rolled your eyes back to the High Lord who had watched your exchange with your ex-colleague with palpable confusion. Lowering the last line of your mental shields, you almost snarled at the males before you, "Go right ahead, High Lord. Take a look at what you have allowed to happen. Kill me in the process, or don't. You will see regardless." All three males tensed, Cassian angling his body to Elijah who looked like he was going to piss himself. Azriel's lips tightened, you could almost see the internal battle waging havoc in his mind.

The High Lord appeared at the gates of your mind like the eye of a midnight storm, calm for now but violence promised. Your mental shields remained down, inviting him to rifle through your mind. His essence was thicker than that of other daemati you had encountered over your many years. Rhysand infected your mind, spread through every corner like a parasite. You knew you wouldn't be able to push him out, even if you wanted to. This feeling was like no other. Your essence seemed to stand side-by-side with Rhysand’s as he rummaged through your mind, your memories, your secrets and darkest desires. You felt him as he zipped through your upbringing, how you met his brother and the beginnings of your feelings towards the Shadowsinger. You felt him as he saw the day Cassian and Azriel arrived at your door, felt your horror. A certain sense of retribution rippled through you as he relived your torture. Relived the agony that still riddled your body. Relived the conversation you had moments ago. The High Lord yanked himself back to his own mind.

Heat gathered behind your eyes, eyes that did not move from the male whose court you had sworn to protect. Your jaw clenched, as the tears trickled slowly from your eyes. The violet gaze of the most powerful male to grace Prythian was twisted with horror and rage. "She is telling the truth," Rhysand nearly whispered.

An audible breath loosed from Azriel, the master of shadows and spies unable to hide the way his face fell. His red-siphoned General wasted no time in lunging for Elijah. Vermillion illuminated the room, shielding against the knife that the real traitor attempted to slice the General with. The light revealed more of the various bruises, gashes and injuries that healed a snail's pace. Rhysand seemed to be jolted into action and with no more than a flicker of his hand, Elijah collapsed behind him and the glow of Cassian's siphons dimmed. The High Lord turned to the male that had done an excellent job at framing you for his crimes, who was now slumped in a heap on the ground you had bled on again and again and again.

Azriel all but shoved past his High Lord, kneeling before you with a tortured expression. You had truly never seen such agony on anyone's face... maybe if you had seen your own during the last few weeks of torture, you would have thought differently. The realisation finally settled into your bones, adrenaline finally wearing off from your face off with death itself. A deep, aching chill settled into your bones, and you couldn't help but shudder. The ache of the screw imbedded into your foot and the knives bolting your hands to the armrests returned with an agonising vengeance. Your teeth ground together, and a twisted groan scraped its way from your mouth. Your hands arched against the blade, fingers trying to curl into themselves. The male before you opened his mouth, you were sure it was to apologise but he stopped himself. Despite the betrayal that still poisoned you, you stared into his hazel eyes. You did not hide the hurt, the anger that finally resurfaced after weeks of being numb. You let it all show. Your eyes were like gems staring into Azriel's, shining with every ounce of pain you had endured. Your breaths heaved in and out, choked groans escaping you at the agony that only intensified at every second that passed.

Azriel's thoughts and words died on his tongue as he took you in. A heavy, cold weight settled in his chest as your pain-riddled croaks filled the cell. The Shadowsinger didn't trust his voice, his words... they all sounded wrong in his mind. Instead, he tentatively raised his hand and curled his fingers around the hilt of the blade in your hand. He willed himself to continue staring into your eyes. Azriel wasn't sure whether it was to keep you grounded… or himself. He ignored the twisting in his stomach when he saw that the base of the blade's hilt was nestled on your palm. Azriel began to pull the dagger out, feeling an uncomfortable flush dance across his body as your groans intensified, the sound of your flesh being pulled against the grain of the wound echoed in his skull. "Rhys," He seethed through gritted teeth.

"I know, brother," The High Lord replied quietly. A moment later, you slumped in your chair. Azriel's heart stuttered in his chest, terrified at just how dead you looked. But he knew it was the work of his brother that made you pass out.

***

A steady stream of light poured into the room and the rays danced softly onto your eyes. There was a foreign scent in the air; brine and something more... medicinal. You scrunched your eyes, feeling as though they were glued shut. The bed you were laid upon was soft and the thin sheet covering your body was airy. Your brain lagged, knowing you were not at home, but you weren't in that cell anymore. Had any of it happened? Finally, your eyes heaved open with the weight of three Illyrian warriors seemingly pulling down on them. There was a strange pressure pushing against your eyes. It felt like a headache, without the pain. Slowly, you pulled yourself onto your elbows, realising there was points all over your body where the was more painless pressure. There was bandaging covering most your body, wrapped around your hands and almost everywhere your eyes were. Images flashed in your mind; sensations of blades being dragged across your skin and sounds of taunts and screams echoed in your head.

Fear began to creep into your bones, unsure as to how you went from being on your mission to laying in what was clearly a hospital in an unfamiliar place. Slowly, you lifted yourself from the bed. Your movements were sluggish, like they were experiencing the pain but none of it was registering with you. Your shoulders hunched as you steadied yourself on your feet, eyes darting around the empty room for an exit. The was one door and one window, which was cracked slightly and allowing a fresh breeze into the room. You weighed your odds, gut instinct urging you to flee through the window and escape undetected. However, the way your body weighed itself down and the fact that you still hadn't fully healed meant there was still faebane in your system... it would have to be the door. Carefully you neared the door, ears straining to listen for any approaching footsteps. The only thing you could hear was your own heart thumping, from fear or strain you weren't sure.

The hallway beyond your room was empty, but voices carried through the space from both ends. You edged toward the end that seemed a bit quieter... whomever had put you in that room wished for you to be isolated. Your mind wandered to your imprisonment, fog shrouding anything that could possibly explain your whereabouts. It felt like the memory was right there, but it died whenever you thought too hard. Shaking the cobwebs from your head, you crept down the hall thanking The Mother for your bare feet making little noise. The voices this way were fading, whoever was there was walking away. Sweat beaded across your forehead, fevered chills running down your spine.

The soft sound of someone clearing their throat sounded behind you. Your muscles locked into place and your heart stuttered painfully. Whipping your head around, you saw a female watching you from in front of the door of the room you had been in moments ago. Your brain buzzed with adrenaline, taking stock of her. She looked around your age, with brown skin and about eight inches taller than you. Her hair was in braids and pulled away from her face. Green eyes stared back you, never looking away for a moment. Overall, she did not look like she would be too hard to take down… if it you were able bodied. The female’s gaze was surprised yet... humoured. She eyed you up and down, judging your bandaged and flimsy gown-covered-self attempting an escape with no shoes. No more than a second later, you turned and bolted. Well, you tried to bolt yet it presented as a rushed, awkward hobble. "Excuse me!" The female exclaimed, as she rushed over. You felt hopelessness when her barely brisk walk closed in on your desperate limp shuffle.

The healer's hand closed around your upper arm gently. A gasp ripped through your throat as you fell to your knees. "Please!" The yelp that burst from your mouth sounded like a caged animal's ultimate battle cry. You weren't sure if you were crying for help or for her to let you go... a bit of both you were sure. You jerked your arm away, heart thumping wildly in your ears.

Whether it was through the force of whatever yanking you were doing or through pure shock, the grip on your arm relaxed until it was gone. "Please, calm down!" The female exclaimed in place of her grip.

"Get away from me," you wheezed out, creating as much space as possible, falling back onto your bottom and scrunching into a corner.

"Okay, okay," The female responded, taking a few steps back too. "But please, relax. You may injure yourself even more."

If it were not for the sound of your own heartbeat thundering in your ears, the only sound between you and the female was increasing intensity of your breaths. The rough grain of wood grounded you, if only for a moment. Closing your eyes, a sting zipped across your lungs as an attempt to calm the breaths pouring out of was harder than what it should be. Low moans of pain went with the slowing of your breaths, the pressure that had been littering various points of your body now revealing their true sensation.

“That’s it,” the female soothed. When had she moved closer? “Deep breaths. You are due more medication for your pain.” The softness in her voice ignited something strange and sad in your chest. Why? You couldn’t figure it out, but there was something severely wrong.

The female, a healer you have deduced in your sluggish mind, extended her hand out again, it stopped about a foot or two from your face. Your head moved back with it, keeping yourself as out of reach as possible. Her lips tightened. “Are you going to come willingly?”

Such a simple question that made every hair on your body stand on end.

Thump.

The beating of your heart felt like it too had almost frozen in pure unadulterated fear. Every thought to have ever existed and, simultaneously, nothing buzzed in your head. Was it a trick question? Something bad was going to happen, no matter the answer you gave. All you could do was stare at the hand in front of your face,

“No? Okay,” The healer answered herself. “I am going to come to you, okay? First, I will give you your medication.” She took a vial out of her apron. You had used that before on missions when you got injured, it was a distinctive green colour with an equally unpleasant flavour — as if being injured wasn’t punishment enough.

Mission.

The word clanged through your brain. I was on a mission.

The thought halted there. Your head reared back violently, bashing into the wall behind it. A gasp of both shock and pain ripped from your throat, the female’s hand was right in front of your face, startling you. Her fingers were gingerly clasped around the vial that had caused your distraction.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” she almost cooed. “Please take this, your pain will likely become unbearable soon.”

You took the vial, albeit awkwardly and almost dropped it when it slipped on the bandaging around your hands. A strong, almost acidic taste later and the mounting pain subsided leaving only the strange pressure points.

“Good…. Good,” She praised, taking a seat on the floor across from you. “How are you feeling?” She asked, bringing her knees to her chest and folding her hands underneath them.

Staring at her long and hard, mind scrambling to find any memory of her, of this place, the vague scent of salt coming in from the open window across the room… but nothing was familiar. A small voice somewhere in the back of your mind encouraged you to dig for more information. Information was key. This female seemed nice… seemed likely to tell you whatever you wanted to hear at the moment. If it was you needed to hear, you would have to find out.

“Whe-,” cutting yourself off as the sound came out a breathless, whistled wheeze. Heat spread across your face, clearing your throat. “Where am I?” The mission, your mind returned to the earlier thought. The last thing that you could remember with absolute certainty was your last mission. In the Autumn Court. Something in your chest tugged at the thought, like it was wrong. Something about the air contradicted it. It did not feel like the Autumn Court.

“I can tell you that once you come back to your room,” The healer responded, a patient and gentle smile on her face.

Eyeing her warily, you weighed the outcomes. Leave the feeble safety of your corner and go with this stranger or stay where you are and gain no answers to your mounting questions. A small sigh escaped from your nose. Pushing your back against the wall, you began to pull yourself from the floor. At a speed that threatened to have your heart flailing in fright, the healer was at your side though her hands did not touch you. They hovered near your body, prepared to catch you in the event your joints buckled. It felt like they might.

What happened to me?

“That’s it,” She encouraged, keeping near as you walked a step.

Stopping by a window you were too flustered to notice in your earlier escape attempt a breath loosed from your chest. Except this time, it was not in fear or confusion. But in awe. Just on the other side of that window was about the most beautiful city you had ever laid eyes on. A large, blue river twisted lazily through the centre. Richly coloured buildings hugged its banks, each ornate and decorated uniquely in a way that felt like it was to complement the river and not the other way around. Whatever building you were in now was higher than the rest, made plausible by the steep ridges of mountains that cupped the city between them, like they were protecting it from the world. There was something exquisite to see at every point your eyes landed on. Beyond that, colourful sails dotted the mouth of the river, the brine scented air now making more sense.

Wow.

“It really is something,” The healer agreed, you hadn’t realised you had said it aloud. It felt like a sin to tear your eyes from the window. It felt like if you looked away, it would never be same again. “I promise that if you rest and cooperate for the next day or two, I will move you to a room that has a balcony.”

You did not deign to answer, though excitement flourished at the prospect. Soon enough, mind still reeling from the sights of this mystery city. Definitely not Autumn. Not only did no map support the landscape you just saw being placed anywhere within the Autumn Court borders, but you also knew that someone like Beron would never be able to not only hide but nurture the beauty you just bore witness to. Not a chance.

Moments later, you were nestled back in the cot you had escaped earlier. The healer had left to retrieve her chart with a warning that she would return quicker than you could escape spoken over her shoulder as she exited. For the first time since waking, you felt yourself calm just enough to take a mental picture of yourself. Your skin was mottled with bruising, with most of them escaping under swaths of bandaging. There were twin wraps around your hands, on your foot and a strange itching sensation on your abdomen. There was a niggling sensation in the back of your head, like the memory that led to your current state was right there but whenever you thought too hard it would only step further out of reach.

“Now, I have to conduct an examination on your injuries and see how you’re healing, is that okay?” The female asked softly. It wasn’t pitiful, more so carefully given your flight attempt.

You nodded. “Do you know what happened to me?” The female’s lips tightened, and it was all you needed to see the confirm that she knew. “Can you tell me?”

Her crows scrunched together. “I’m concerned that you don’t remember but I suspect it’s your trauma response. Allow me to conduct my examination and I will try jog your memory.”

You couldn’t argue with that, so you uncrossed your arms from your chest in surrender. Slowly, the female unwrapped your hands. When your clammy palms finally met the fresh air, you were glad of the medication you had been administered. Slits about four inches in length puckered from both your hand and palms. Clearly two knives had gone through each appendage. How could you forget this? If that wasn’t bad enough, two of the fingers on your right hand were gone.

“You probably shouldn’t look,” The female suggested, eyeing you warily as a flush of cold sweat broke out all over your body.

You wanted to answer, to tear your eyes away and train them on what little they could see of the fabulous metropolis outside the window, but your body would not conform to such commands. The skin was pink, red, and angry. The healing looked slow and given that it had to have been at least a few hours since whatever happened… happened, the healing was slower than it should be. Blood prickled along the entry and exit wounds on each hand. Your heart clanged with fear as you realised a simple fact.

“Faebane?” You asked her quietly.

The female’s blue eyes met your own briefly, “Yes. We don’t know how much you were given over-… well it doesn’t matter. We have been trying to counteract it, but your deeper wounds are still slow,” She explained, depositing globs of some gooey gel into the wounds. She made quick work of wrapping new bandages onto the wounds. “But I suspect it is wearing off. For the first few days, you were healing almost slower than a human.”

“Few days?! How long have I been here?” You blurted out.

Your healer remained unfazed by the outburst, instead moving down your body. She lifted the gown to your chest, running scissors through the large gauze that wrapped around your middle. “You have been here for four weeks,” she said quietly, eyes scanning across your torso.

Eyes following her own, you beheld the mess that was your stomach. Various inscriptions imbedded into your skin… all in a language you did not recognise, though pang of familiarity hit you at the sight. Some words were cut into your stomach; others had been scorched. Branded like livestock. A different method had been used for each inscription. The sight was enough to have you closing your eyes so you didn’t have to witness anything more.

Tears burned behind your eyes and a small ache formed in your jaw. “Why can’t I remember anything?” You asked through gritted teeth, resolve crumbling.

You felt the pause in the female’s ministrations, felt her struggle to form a reasonable explanation. “We asked that the High Lord place you into a deep unconscious state to aid in your healing. It has short term effects on the memory.”

Opening your eyes, you stared at the ceiling as tears tracked a path down your face. “High Lord?” You questioned. “I didn’t think Beron had those kinds of abilities.” Even though you knew you were likely not in Autumn, you still wanted whoever this female was to confirm it.

“Beron?” The female asked in disbelief. “My girl you are not in Autumn anymore.”

You couldn’t help the way your muscles locked into place… where were you? You looked towards the healer, being careful to keep as much of your injuries in your peripherals as possible. “Where am I then?”

“You are in the Night Court. I am not sure I am the person who should be revealing this to you. I can request for the High Lord to come and explain it to you.” The female’s tone was uncomfortable, like she was close to telling you something she was not supposed to.

“Why would the High Lord need to explain anything to me?”

The silence that followed didn’t seem like it was born of malice, but more of the inability to produce an explanation. Not that it made it any easier to understand, quite the opposite.

***

As promised, the healer whose name you learned to be Syrena moved you to a room with a balcony jutting over the glistening city that mesmerised you every time you looked at something new. You had created a game with yourself; every day you would sit in a different position and take note of every new and little detail your eyes could pick up on. It was a nice distraction from the mounting and unanswered questions you had been plaguing Syrena with.

“You are going to be visited by the High Lord and Lady today,” Syrena said, staring out over the balcony with you.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, a fear that you couldn’t quite place catching in your chest. “Will the Shadowsinger be there?” You asked, a knot tightening in your chest.

“I’m not sure… I can make sure he’s not if that’s what you mean?” Syrena answered, still looking out at the city below.

“No…” You answered, brows furrowing… why would she even ask that?

Syrena seemed to realise her strange comment and snapped her eyes to you. “Okay,” She agreed, though that hesitancy in her whole demeanour did not shift.

“When will they be here?”

“I told them I would send a note when you were ready,” She replied, giving you the option to opt out.

The burning need for answers overpowered any notion of rejecting the visit. Syrena seemed to see that in your gaze and nodded to herself.

“Let’s get you inside then, I will send word at once.”

About an hour later, you were sitting before the High Lord and Lady… well sitting up in your bed, while they sat in chairs around your bed.

“Would you like me to stay or go?” Syrena asked, hovering by the door.

It took a moment or two for you to take your eyes off your company to realise Syrena was asking you and not the High Lord and Lady. “Oh- uh. You can go…” Syrena remained looking at you for a moment, weighing your answer.

She nodded a second later, “If you need me just ring the bell and I’ll be here.” Syrena left through the door without waiting for your reply.

When the door shut, you decided to look at High Lady Feyre, trying to make sense of the wariness in her eyes that was also mirrored in her mate’s when you looked at him a moment after.

“Syrena says your healing is going well,” The High Lord began. It felt stale, all things considered but you didn’t know where to start either.

“I suppose,” You began, looking down at your still bandaged hand, the bandaging wrapped over the gaps where two of your fingers once had been. “But considering I can’t recall a single thing that happened to me, you would be a better judge of that than me, My Lord.”

“Call us Feyre and Rhysand, please,” Feyre butt in.

Your eyes flitted between them, unease quickly rising. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I would really appreciate us getting to the point.”

The High Lord and Lady, Feyre and Rhysand, shared a look. There was clearly some sort of conversation occurring mind to mind. It was no secret that Rhysand was daemati. Barely veiled whispers of liquified brains and loss of free will were passed between courts during the reign of Amarantha. Though the male you viewed now, who stared at his mate like she hung every star in the sky above his court, you wondered how much of what you had heard was accurate.

“You have two options,” Feyre began, her eyes were sharp, highlighted by the slight furrow of her thin brow. The corners of her mouth were downturned slightly. Dread, you realised. Feyre stared at you with dread that she was unable to school from her features. “We can either tell you what happened, or we can show you.”

“Show me?”

Rhysand spoke this time. “We can reveal your memories to you, I’m sure Syrena has explained to you that your memory may have been affected due to the trauma of what has happened. But please be aware that I do not believe it to be a good idea…”

Heat began to build in your chest, irritation prickling under the bandaging of your wounds suddenly making everything grate in the most uncomfortable way. “Then why suggest it? Look-,” you stopped yourself and rubbed your face with a sigh. “Either tell me, show me, whatever. Just give me something that makes sense. Why hasn’t Azriel come? Surely he should be the one doing all this.”

Something flashed through Rhysand’s eyes at the mention of his Spymaster. Something too quick for you to decipher. “We ask because it is your choice. You will always have a choice when you are in this court.”

Something about the way the High Lord said it had your chest hollowing out with emotions that seemed misplaced, like your heart knew something that your mind did not. “Tell me then… if my mind has blocked it then it’s for a reason. Perhaps when you recount it, it will trigger my memories.”

“Very well,” Rhysand said, curling his hand around his mate’s when it landed on his lap.

“I think it’s best if you tell us where your own memory fades and we will go from there.”

An impatient huff left your lips. “Let’s see, I was on my mission in Autumn for the last four months, nothing happened and I was due to return home. That’s it. Then I woke up here, missing my memories, a few chunks of skin and two of my fingers.”

To their credit, neither Feyre nor Rhysand balked at your little outburst. “Okay,” Feyre said, dipping her chin. “You returned from Autumn as planned. However,” she paused, unable to mask the deepening of her tone quick enough. “While you were on mission, we received intelligence from a trusted source that you had been feeding information to Beron and-.”

“What?! Who said that? I’d never betray Azriel,” You blurted out, hands beginning to tremble as your heart began to free fall in your chest.

“We know. Please allow me to tell you everything and we will answer your questions after,” Feyre cooed, placing her warm hand over yours.

You nodded, despite the feeling that your heart was constricting. It was like a band was placed around the beating organ in your chest and it was being tightened minute by minute. A thin layer of sweat beaded around your hairline and along the edges of bandages across your body.

“We received this information and when you returned to your home, Azriel and Cassian apprehended you when you were due to give Azriel your report.” The picture Feyre was painting tickled something in the back of your mind… familiarity. “You were brought to a dungeon where you were interrogated for a period of time.”

“Interrogated,” You mimicked, motioning to the plethora of medical materials visible on your body.

Feyre cleared her throat awkwardly, averting her eyes with shame that would be impossible to hide. “You were tortured,” she corrected herself. “For the information that we believed you passed onto Autumn. It was only when Rhysand tore down your mental shields and looked for himself did he see that you hadn’t betrayed us.” You were glad that the story failed to spark your memories, because if you had remembered all of that along with the betrayal that bit deeply into your chest at the same time you weren’t sure what would happen.

You stared at your lap, taking slow but heaved breaths. Desperately you tried to keep control of the churning in your stomach and the heat mounting behind your eyes. “Where am I?” You asked, trying to keep the conversation moving.

“Velaris,” The High Lord replied without a second of hesitation.

You sucked a harsh breath in through your teeth, any restraint you had been grasping onto fell between your hands like sand. Your jaw clenched as hot tears fell from your eyes, going from one drop to two to a steady stream. Breath halted in your throat, a sob building from deep within you. In the many, many years you had been alive, you had only cried in front of others less than a handful of times. This, crying in front of the leaders of your court, felt more than wrong. Closing your eyes, you brought a bandaged hand to cover your face.

“Fuck,” You croaked out, desperately trying to rein it in. But that sob that had been threatening your resolve finally broke free and your shoulders shook with the force of it. “Fuck sake,” You whimpered again.

This beautiful, wondrous city withered in your mind’s eye. Velaris. The very place Azriel had promised to bring you before the war, the very prospect of it sparked a rare feeling hope within you. You had never experienced someone truly care about you before, never had someone wish to show you something close to their heart. The very idea of Velaris had been a shining beacon guiding you towards a fuller life. A life with Azriel when you allowed yourself to ponder it enough.

You could see now that the beacon had blinded you from accounting for one simple thing; life was never kind to you and never would be.

That was painfully and vividly clear. Clear in the bandages that adorned your battered body and the absence of the very male you put you here.

“Where is he?” You barely managed to choke out. Your chest felt like it was caving in on itself.

“We did not think it a good idea for him to be here,” Rhysand replied, true sorrow down turning his eyes, like he could feel the betrayal slinking through your veins. He probably could, you gathered, considering he had been in your mind and experienced everything you experienced.

“Bring him.” The muscle in your jaw feathered, a cold fury snaking its way around your grieving heart.

Rhysand turned to his mate, eyes looking for her approval. “Are you sure?” The High Lady asked, “We understand this is very distressing-.”

“You tell him to get here and look at what he’s done. What you all did to me.” Both their gazes moved away.

“As you wish,” The High Lord replied. “I will have him come to you tomorrow.”

“Do you have any more questions?” Feyre asked, lips pursed in a way that you knew she wished you to say no.

“Who betrayed me? Who was it that fed you the information?” You would kill them yourself once you were mobile, two fingers missing or not.

“Elijah,” Rhysand answered. “He had a conversation with you shortly before I… before I came into the picture. He incriminated himself and I was able to see that through your memory. His arrogance saved you.”

A bitter, saddened chuckle left you. “So there is truly no one left in this world that I can trust.”

A pregnant, loaded silence passed. The famous star-crossed High Lord and Lady each wanting to say something, anything to lessen the burden. But no words flowed.

Looking down at your lap, lips curling in a bitter smile. “Leave me alone.” Your nostrils flared once, twice. Closing your eyes for a moment, you reminded yourself of who it was before you. “I would like to be alone, please,” You corrected.

* * *

The next morning arrived at the pace of a snail. Everything and nothing had whirred in your brain, and all you wanted to do was distract yourself from it. Reading was the first idea that came to mind, but the bandaging on your hands made opening the cover a feat within itself. Syrena had offered to read to you when she discovered you had launched the book at the wall, but you did not take her up on her offer. Stretching was the next attempt, which you should have known better than to try in the first place and Syrena ended up having to redo a stitch or two. The balcony that laid adjacent to your bed felt like a cruel taunt now that you knew you were in Velaris, so that wasn’t an option. More time had passed trying to think of ways to make the time pass rather than doing anything.

A floorboard creaked down the hallway from your room. A noise so stark, so deliberate, it had the hairs on your body stand on end. Audible footsteps came closer and closer, the owner obvious and stirring discomfort within you for two reasons. The first, you knew exactly who it was.

The second, Azriel was only noticeable when he wanted to be noticeable.

A knock from the other side of the door sent a slick layer of sweat gathering beneath your bandaged hand. With a voice you weren’t sure was your own, you allowed him in. And wasn’t he a sight to behold for all the wrong reasons.

Shadows were wound in tight, either by his own control or the slithering sentient creatures were attempting to ease the turmoil in their master. Sun-drenched, dewy skin that once glowed with warmth was pallid like there was something slowly leeching the pigment from it. Lips drawn in a tight, straight line were almost as controlled as the hands held behind his back. And his eyes… the discolouration beneath them was as devastating as the raw torment shining from them, worsening with every flick and glance they made all over you.

In that moment, you knew Azriel had never looked worse. And what he looked like on the outside, you felt on the inside.

All the thoughts, all the questions and viscous words that fuelled your imagination sputtered out as the click of the door behind him filled the space. The beat of your heart increased and your eyes flickered. It was like you had been transported back to that cell, watching him as he filled that glass with water. Sick, hurt, wrenching dread twisted your stomach. Slowly, you raised your hand up, cloth-covered palm facing down. A memory, you realised.

“What have you done to me?” You croaked out, hand shaking violently on display.

Azriel opened his mouth and closed it not even a second later. That single action laid bare what was broken between you. It was a question so easily answered and yet, left a tidal wave of destruction in its wake.

Your jaw clenched from how hard you held it together. Hotness welled in your eyes for the first time since waking and the culmination of everything began crashing down on you with a force you wouldn’t withstand.

“You ruined me.”

A strangled, scarcely controlled breath echoed against the walls. But it did not belong to you. Your breaths came out slow, like there was a vice squeezing your lungs. No, it was Azriel whose chest heaved as though he had been starved of air until now. You watched as he struggled to gulp down oxygen as your lip wobbled violently and the tears patted onto your cheeks. He stood in front of the door, your view of him obscured by your tears but his turmoil was clear. It was like he was chained to the spot he stood, unable to run no matter how much he wanted to.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice was hoarse, desperate in a way like you had heard in that of dying soldiers. “It’s not enough, but I am so sorry.”

In all the times you had imagined him saying those words, never had you predicted how empty they would make you feel. In every scenario, you felt anger and sadness rip from you with breakneck speed. So, when all that followed was a void that seemed to suck any remaining semblance of emotion from within you, all that you could do was move your stare to that damned city that loomed just beyond the balcony.

“Get out.”

***

"C'mon, love, wake up," A frantic voice sounded somewhere in the back of your mind. Somewhere far away, like there was an ocean between you and the voice was barely travelling over its turbulent surface.

Eyes opened like they had been cemented together and all you could see was grey brickwork. Moss gathered between the perpends and the dank aroma of mildew clung to your nostrils and gathered at the back of your throat, teasing you with illness. Your brows knitted together as you pushed yourself to sit upright. Muscles tightened and locked within seconds, gaze unmoving from the hand you had used to lift yourself. Gone was the overlapping softness of the bandages, instead the sight of your bare hand, blood oozing slowly from the gaps where your fingers had once been.

A slow, deliberate screeching sounded nearby. It was dull and methodical, making it impossible for your mind to decipher what had happened to you- what was happening to you? Beyond the bars of your enclosure, a winged man sat. He sharpened a blade, his movements so practiced that you were sure they had completed the movement many, many, many times. It was to the point that his eyes did not linger on the blade in his grasp. Instead, they remained on you. The realisation sent fear rippling throughout your entire body.

Azriel.

In books, you had read things like the hairs stood on end of the main character's body or that their heart started racing in their chest. But in that moment, you knew those descriptions and flowery words organised together couldn't contextualised the raw terror that hit you with the force of an Illyrian army. The sound that forced itself from your lips didn't sound like you. Didn't sound like anything other than prey realising it was trapped. You felt yourself being jolted back in fright, scuttling your way back to the wall of the cell, of which Azriel smiled at. Smiled as if he had heard a joke he didn't want to admit was funny.

"Wake up," He said with that cruel, amused grin still on his mouth.

You frowned, trying to focus on calming your breathing.

"Wake up," He said again, leaning forward while he hands still worked on scraping his blade against the stone.

"What?" You asked, chest beginning to ache from the turbulent beats of the muscle beneath it.

Azriel's face became grave, eyes drooping like he had suddenly been deprived of sleep for weeks. His skin greyed ever so slightly. His usual Illyrian-olive skin looking more ashen. Your name fell from his lips, his tone croaked and haunted. It was only when he wrung his scarred hands into his hair did you realise his blade and sharpening stone were gone. "Please," he whispered. "Please wake up." His voice sounded far away, like it sounded somewhere in the back of your mind. "Please wake up, please let me tell you how sorry I am." He moved to his feet, pacing back and forth in front of the cell. "No- sorry is not enough," He corrected himself. "Nothing will ever be enough to right this wrong. To undo the damage." Your throat felt like it was being held shut, unable to even allow words to form let alone for your brain to make sense of whatever was happening. Before you even had a chance to speak, Azriel whipped his body to look behind him, like he was called by someone you could not see or hear. When he turned back to you, tears bubbling along his bottom lashes, he looked at you. Really looked at you, eyes taking stock of every bit of your body, settling on your eyes.

He opened his mouth, hesitating on his next words.

"Wake up," He demanded, soft and pleaded.

***

"That's it, open your eyes," Syrena's voice cooed. It took a few moments for your vision to clear. Blobs of different shapes and colours became the view of the ceiling, pictures on the walls and the concerned face of Syrena peering down at you. Her hand was clutching your wrist, fingers keeping clear of the bandages.

It took a few minutes to gather your surroundings and realise that every image, sound, every single feeling that you had just experienced was conjured by your mind. "Syrena?" You weren't sure why you chose to call her name, as if anyone else had been tasked with your recovery.

"Yes, love. It was just a nightmare. You're safe," Syrena said as she helped you sit up. You were more than capable of sitting up on your own, but you knew she was doing it to provide comfort. Especially when your entire being was quivering and your clothes were stuck to your skin with a hefty layer of sweat.

"It felt... too real," was all you managed to say, shoulders rounding in on themselves.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, dear," Syrena said. "How about a bath?"

"Not sure how I'm going to manage that with all these bandages." Defeat. That was all you were left with. Defeated at the idea of being unable to bathe. The need for it had been gnawing at you for the last few weeks you had been here.

"You can manage it. I was going to remove the bandages in the morning anyway. A couple of hours won't hurt you," She replied with a genuine, kind smile. With embarrassing speed your eyes heated and drops fell onto your cheeks. Relief unlike any other washed over you at the very idea of settling into the hot water. "I'll take that as a yes," Syrena teased gently, enough that it pulled a tortured giggle from you.

Within just a few minutes, you were alone in the steaming bathroom. Syrena had asked if you wanted assistance removing your bandages and bathing, but you had declined, assuring her that you would shout for her if needed. Despite her acquiescence, you were fairly sure she had stationed herself outside the door. Holding your breath, you removed the layers and layers of white cloth. You kept your eyes trained on the bath, not letting anything sully your excitement at bathing. Even the angry reds and pinks that were threatening your periphery. The lavender and rose scents billowed around you and you had decided Syrena was owed a hug for that, for knowing that the smell of medicine and injury had clung to you for far too long now. Medicine and the hints of damp and mould.

Once every dressing was in a pile kicked to the corner, you approached the tub. It was large, probably to account for wings you assumed. The extra space was a Gods send you realised, the thought of being in a narrow bathtub make your chest feel like it was going to cave in. You forced that feeling away again, storing it away to be dealt with at a later point. You lowered your right foot in slowly, savouring the warmth that embraced it. Looking down, you caught sight of the scabbed remains of where Elijah had twisted that screw into your foot. You were glad that the solace the bath water provided was easier to focus on than that. It took a solid five minutes for your body to fully submerged up to you neck, goosebumps rippling your entire body in raw pleasure. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, every muscle in your body released every modicum of tension.

The breath that came out of your lung felt like it had been held there for weeks. Your shoulders sagged and a breathy sigh fell from your lips. This was important. You knew that you would have a hard time enjoying everything from your earlier life from now on. That thought alone stabbed your heart because that's what it was. Previous life. That sense of peace and calm, despite the type of work you did, was gone. The friendships and relationships you had gained were gone. All of it was gone.

The saddest part was that you couldn't muster the energy to cry about it.

You reached for the bar of soap sitting on the edge of the tub, finally seeing the bare gaps where your fingers had once been. The faebane had worn off, your body's natural healing back up to its usual speed meant your wounds were now mostly closed. The stubs of your former digits were pink, skin twisted. It was strange, you still felt like your fingers were there, like you could bend your knuckles or stretch it out. The bar slipped from your grip, falling into the water.

"Shit," You scolded yourself, clenching your jaw at the ache that blossomed from where the soap had slid over your knuckles.

"Are you alright in there?" Syrena asked, knocking nonchalantly but her timing was too quick. It confirmed your suspicion that she had been just outside the door since you entered the bathing room.

"Fine," You bit out, guilt instantly rippling across your chest. You tried to grab the soap from the bottom of the tub, only for your hand to not grab it once again. Your grip felt wrong. Sighing, you tipped your head back. "I need help," You said to Syrena through the door.

Without another word, she was through the door rolling up her sleeves and reaching down into the water to grab the bar of soap. Like always, there was no judgement, no pity on her face when she lathered the soap and rubbed the soap up your arms first.

"You've probably only had to do this for the elderly residents of Velaris. Y'know, the ones who have lived so long that they can't even wipe their own asses anymore." Though it was attempted humour, it sounded defeatist even to your own ears.

"Nope, I've helped people in this way more times that you'd know," Syrena answered flicking her head to clear some stray hair, eyeing you for permission to clean the rest your body to which you nodded. "I have had to help clean females who have given birth and are too sore to move. I did this very thing for multiple residents younger than you who were injured during Hybern's attack on Velaris. I have, of course, helped some elderly residents but do not think that diminishes you for any reason."

Syrena's words sobered your mind, reminding you that while your circumstances were bad, others had also been in your shoes. "Of course, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," She replied, smiling softly. "I just want you to remember that this doesn't have to be the end for you."

You know she meant the words comfortingly, but they only reminded you of the road ahead and it filled you with... dread. Dread that whatever you were feeling now was going to get worse. "They say it gets worse before it gets better," You stated absentmindedly.

Continuing her cleaning, Syrena hummed. "Do you agree with that?"

"I don't know. Before working for Az- the Night Court, my life was pretty bad. Don't think my life was ever good for that statement to make any sense to me. From worse to worse? That doesn't make any sense," You mused, resting your chin on your knees once Syrena was finished cleaning.

Sitting with her arm rest on the edge of the tub, Syrena watched you carefully. "You probably will feel worse at some stage. You will also feel better too, and I think that's worth something."

"I'm not sure how to feel better after this, Syrena. This court was the first place I actually laid down some roots and now it's gone. And so easily too. I don't know if I have it in me to do it all over again."

"Your roots can still be here," She replied. "You can stay here but changed. You can live a different life, adapt, learn to accept your new normal."

"How?" You pleaded, face scrunched.

"Not on your own-"

"I am not inviting Azriel, the High Lord or Lady or absolutely anyone from their circle into this," You snapped, sensing the direction she was going to.

"Okay, okay," Syrena said raising her hands. "I wasn't going to suggest that. But you will need to let someone help you. I have a colleague who specialises more in mental ailments."

"You've been helping me just fine." You knew your voice sounded sad, you felt connected to her.

Syrena smiled kindly, squeezing your arm affectionately. "I appreciate that, my dear. All I'm saying is that Alina is more trained in matters relating to the sort of thing you have experienced. But I can still come and see you."

Your heart plummeted at her words, your neck almost creaking from how fast you looked at her. "Visit me? Where am I going?"

"The High Lord and Lady purchased a home for you, and you are almost ready to leave here."

"I don't want their charity," You snapped.

"I know, and I understand why. But you need help. They purchased it for you before you regained consciousness," She cooed.

"I don't want to be near him!" You slammed your fists down into the water.

Syrena remained unphased at your outburst, not even rubbing the water droplets that landed on her. "It's nowhere near them, it's across the city. I doubt you'd even cross paths. But I am telling you this not as your healthcare professional, but as your friend, you need help."

The words silenced you, the truth behind them weighing on you just as much as her admission that she saw you as a friend.

You were not completely alone in this.

You weren't left with nothing. Close to it but not completely and that had to count for something... right?

"Now, let's have a look at doing that hair?" Syrena moved on, smiling sweetly. Her timing was perfect as always, knowing when was a good time to move on. She knew you'd think about it and let her know. She knew you'd make the right decision.

You angled your body towards her, tipping your head back. Syrena filled a small jug and placed her hand on your forehead to prevent the water from trickling into your eyes. As the water soaked into your hair, something about the way a few drops escaped and ran down your face set your teeth on edge. You forced the feeling down, instead focusing on the cool feeling of shampoo being poured into your hair. You knew through whatever magic Syrena had, she took the dirty look away from your hair, but the feeling remained. That much was obvious in the way the product barely lathered through your tresses. "Gross," You mumbled.

"It will need a couple going overs," Syrena mused refilling the jug. Slowly, she poured the water over your hair again and instead of focusing on the rising beat of your heart, you watched the oily, dirty water flow into the bath and then disappear through whatever charm filtered the water.

Again, the coolness of the shampoo on your scalp grounded you. It felt deeper this time, like it had penetrated through the grime. Syrena massaged it in slowly this time, making your eyes flutter closed. Her nails lightly scraped your scalp and you weren't sure if you had ever felt pleasure like it. It was an effort to keep the groan of pleasure from escaping your lips. You kept your eyes closed as the jug was filled once again. All of your peace came crashing down as the water flowed over your hair again, this time you couldn't ignore the steady throb of your heart. Especially not when your head tipped back more than before causing more water to flow down your face, over your eyes and mouth.

"Stop!" You blurted out, immediately choking on the few droplets that managed to fall down your throat. "Stop!" You choked out, lunging away.

Syrena made some noise, but your mind blocked it out. All you could focus on was getting away. Where to, you weren't sure. Just away. You stood in the middle of the tub, frantically searching for a way out. Out of your very skin. Air heaved from your lungs, loud. Your eyes darted to every point of the room, all that training you had received rendered useless. You saw Syrena, arms out and attempting to placate you. Images and sensations flashed in your mind. Azriel, a jug of water, dirty wash clothes. The feeling of not being able to breathe. The same question being asked over and over again.

Even with the panic coursing through your veins with increasing speed, you felt as though you could see your future with perfect clarity. A lifetime of having to manage triggers, to be in a constant battle with your flight or fight response. All over something as simple as taking a bath. Or dropping something because you couldn't grip anything with your stupid, injured hands. All that clarity caused one simple thing.

A scream.

Raw and guttural, straight from the depths of your soul.

The scream ripped through your throat and did not stop until more nurses burst into the room, one of them stepping into the tub to grab you which did not help in their effort to calm you. You wrestled them, panicking even more when they began pulling you toward the edge of the tub.

***

It had been one week since your outburst in the bath. An ordeal you hadn't repeated since. Humiliation had been a regular feeling since and you had apologised to Syrena and the two nurses that had to restrain and sedate you profusely since. All of them had assured you they did not need your apologies... and had accepted them when they realised you needed hear you were forgiven.

Standing in front of your bed, feeling the breeze blow in from a waking Velaris kiss your cheeks, you were filled with the strangest sensation. The feeling of a new beginning but not one you thought you had the strength to see through. When you were a young female, you always believed things would be much easier if you knew the direction your life was heading, if you could see the way forward. But now you knew that it was just as much of a curse as not knowing. You knew that one day, you'd wake up without fear being the first thing you felt. That you would be able to get through your day without assistance. But that long, seemingly endless road between now and then was what absolutely terrified you. How much more miserable could you get before your broke? Before you couldn't go on any longer? Your strength felt fairly stretched thin already.

"You all ready?" Syrena asked, leaning on the open doorframe.

"Well considering I don't have any of my personal belongings, yes. I am ready to go."

"The High Lord requested to escort you to your new home," Syrena replied, watching you warily.

"Requested... surely he will do what he wants irrespective of what I want." You knew you were being bitter, but your mind was numbing itself with the thoughts of what was to come.

"Rhysand is not what you would expect of a High Lord. If you do not wish for his presence, he will respect that. He has always given people a choice." Syrena's voice was serious, almost offended at your insinuation that the High Lord in question would do otherwise.

You sighed, shoulders sagging as you closed your bag. "Then yes, he can do it. It's his house after all."

"Your house," The very male being discussed stated as he appeared just behind Syrena at the door.

You bristled a bit. "Were you just waiting in the hallway?"

Rhysand smiled, a tad devilish with the curl on his lips but well-meaning all the same. "I was but had you denied my escort, I would have gone without you knowing I was here."

You pursed your lips at him. "What about my old house?"

"You are more than welcome to return there if you wish, but Syrena let us know you are going to avail of Alina's services so I think it would be wise for you to remain in the city until she advises otherwise."

Despite his kind words, something about what he was saying bothered you. Rather deeply. "So what, is this Alina going to report what I say back to you too or?" You snapped, eyeing Syrena angrily as a stab of betrayal nipped at you. Had she told the High Lord everything? The look she gave you told you that she didn't but you weren't sure what to think.

"No, she will never break your confidence. Not unless you pose a serious threat to yourself or someone else," Syrena answered before Rhysand could.

"I could go to her and my hands and knees and beg to hear what you've told her, and she wouldn't so much as breathe a whisper of it," Rhysand added, soothing you a little.

"Well if I'm to remain here, can I at least have some of my belongings from my house? I miss my own pyjamas," You mumbled grumpily.

"Of course," Rhysand replied earnestly. "I can either have it brought to you, or I can arrange to bring you to your home."

"Not sure if I'd be much use with these," You replied, holding up your mangled hands. One with fingers missing, and puckered scars bubbling up from both.

Rhysand couldn't hide the way his eyes seemed to sag, like he was remembering that his brother, and by association he himself, were responsible for all of it.

"If I give you a list, who would get my stuff?" You asked, ignoring the tiny prick of guilt. They deserved to feel every bit of pain because whatever him, or Azriel or the General were feeling at any point, you felt one hundred times worse at all times. Let them have a taste of it.

"Whoever you want. Not Azriel, if that is what you are wondering."

"No, I want it to be him. He knows his way around my home, he can pack it up. All things considered I think it's fair to ask him at least try to clean up his mess." You knew you were being cruel and you didn't miss the look of disappointment on Syrena's face.

"C'mon," Syrena sighed. "I know you're hurting but that's not fair."

"Fair?!" You snapped, throwing your bag down onto the bed. "Are we really going to talk about what's fair?"

"What has been done to you is unforgiveable," Rhysand interjected. "But I won't subject Azriel to that. He is destroyed by what happened and as much as I know you don't want to hear it, I do not believe he will ever recover from this.”

A bitter scoff, laugh hybrid fell from your mouth. "I'd hope he is, unless he is a complete psycho. So tell me then, High Lord, how have you punished your Spymaster for his blunder?" You kept your gaze down on your back, fighting back the rising rage. One you knew would consume you whole.

"How I choose to punish my inner circle is none of your business," The High Lord answered back, more authority in his voice now. "In light of what happened, I understand your anger, and I know you wish for him to suffer but there is one thing you are forgetting."

"Oh and what's that?" You snapped, finally looking Rhysand in the eyes. Looking at the storm raging in his violet eyes.

"Azriel is my brother. First and foremost," he said and your breath hitched. "And I won't torture him because you're angry with him. He is doing enough of that to himself."

You couldn't stop the tears that fell. "So that's it?" You croaked, jaw clenching and unclenching. "Because he is the High Lord of the Night Court's brother, he faces no retribution? He will have to live with guilt, which you seem to think is punishment enough, while I have to figure out how to put myself back together?!" You voice rose to high pitch, vocal cords tremoring. "Gods, what the fuck!" You threw your hands into your hair. "You're lucky, you know. All of us here down on the ground have to learn to live with the decisions you and your stupid inner circle make. But the moment, the second, someone tries to hold any of you assholes accountable you show your true colours!"

Syrena cooed your name. "I know you're angry but please, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," You growled at Syrena. "Do you have any idea what your actions lead to?" You growled at Rhysand again. "One of your cities live in splendour, the other under a big fucking rock with their females subject to the whims of their vicious parents which then makes them vicious too. Your own cousin was from there, look at how she has done away from all of it? What gives you the right to make that decision? To give none of them a chance!"

"I'm not going to argue with you. You're lashing out because you're hurt." Your words struck a nerve, that much was obvious. Good, now you were going to hone in.

"What? You don't like that I'm calling you out. You have left an entire people rot all because you can't be bothered to try and induce some sort of moral code. All because you need to feel like, in spite of everything you've done, you're better than them. Well, I'm living proof that you're not! Not you, or Azriel, Cassian, all of you!" You were out of breath by the time you finished, tears streaming down your face. You moved your hands down to your forehead, massaging the ache that had formed. "Fuck!"

There was a palpable silence afterwards, one that you did not care to fill. You plopped yourself down on the bed, not looking up when Rhysand excused himself, adding that he would return later. Not even when Syrena sat next to you.

***

Two months into your new life in Velaris and you felt no better than the day you arrived in your new apartment. Which was elegant, that much you had conceded. A top floor, three-roomed apartment near the mouth of the Sidra. Big floor-to-ceiling windows in your bedroom looking over the city. Something you were sure you'd enjoy if you were able to peel yourself from your bed. Syrena visited regularly just as she promised, and you made an effort to rot on the couch in her presence when she was here. That was about as much as you could muster. That and attending your sessions with Alina, whose office was a two-minute walk from your apartment. During the walk, you would keep your head down, afraid of meeting the eyes of the passer-by's.

"So, how are you today?" Alina asked, settling into her seat.

"Fine," You grumbled, rubbing at your eyes. That was another thing, you had lost the ability to sleep. Well, peacefully that is.

"Are you sure?" She asked. You were disappointed by Alina. Both Syrena and Rhysand had made her sound like a miracle worker.

You frowned at her. Well more of a glare. "I'm fine. I'm alive aren't I?"

Alina did not appear fazed by your outburst in the slightest, only waiting for your real answer patiently.

Sighing, you rubbed your hands over your face. "I'm sorry, I don't sleep well but last night was particularly bad," You sighed, remembering how the majority of the night was spent staring at the mouldings of your high ceilings.

"I understand. Do you want to tell me why you struggled to sleep last night?" Alina asked.

"Not really, I've just figured I'll never sleep properly again," I mumbled.

"Do you want me to give you a tonic to help you sleep?" Alina asked, smiling.

"Isn't your job supposed to be more holistic than that? Make me able to do normal things again without that sort of intervention?" You asked.

Alina chuckled a little and you would be lying if you said it didn't make you smile too. "Not necessarily," She began. "My job isn't to do anything for you, per se, but more shine the light in the areas you need to work on. I can't fix you. You have to fix you. But how can you do that when you are barely sleeping? It must be extremely tough."

A wave of relief shot through your chest but also dread. Relief at the idea you might actually be able to sleep but dread at the truth you knew was coming. You would have to do all the metaphorical heavy lifting to improve yourself. "Yes," You replied absentmindedly.

Alina sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "There are a few things that you need to have in order to attain happiness. One of the most important ones is sleep. So tackle that. I will give you a tonic to help with that. Sound good?" You nodded, almost wanting to down the little bottle of sleep tonic she gave you there and then if it meant you could sleep for longer than an hour at a time. "Now I want to say something to you that might seem harsh but I think it's time it's all above board."

You felt yourself tense in anticipation.

"You have not been looking after yourself and you have barely tried," she began and you felt indignation begin to rear its head at breakneck speed. You only managed to control it when she raised her hand a second later. "Not to diminish what you went through, my dear, at all. I only know what Rhysand told me and from what I can tell, it runs far deeper than what he understands. But you will rot if you don't start actually putting effort into mentally recovering."

Tears built in your eyes. Not with anger or sadness, but with shame and defeat. "I know," You croaked, feeling a crushing numbness spread across your chest. "But how? I can't see how I will reach recovery."

"Your future will look nothing like your past," Alina answered. "But that does not mean it can't be good. As for how, we will figure this out together. For the moment, there are only three things I want you to focus on."

You wiped your eyes and felt a flicker of hope bloom in your chest.

"I need you to take that tonic and sleep. Secondly, I want you to eat. Anything, preferably healthy, but we will settle for just eating at the moment," She started and you nodded along. "Lastly, you must prioritise our sessions above your feelings." You were surprised it took this long for her to bring up the multiple sessions you hadn't shown to. "No matter how bad, or how good you feel, you must attend our appointments."

You stared at her, cheeks dusted red from being called out.

"I will give you once chance," Alina said sternly. "You are only permitted to miss one appointment and only for a good reason, which I warn you the list is short. If you miss it because you can't get out of your bed then I will suspend our sessions and you can seek help on your own."

This side of Alina was not what you were expecting. You had heard of these healers before, the ones who let you talk and they listen to validate your feelings. But she was different, she was making you accountable for yourself. Not to be messed with.

Now you knew why both Syrena and Rhysand had said she was good.

***

Eight weeks.

It had been eight weeks since you agreed to take your sessions with Alina seriously. Eight weeks of solid sleep. It wasn't the same as sleeping from before. The tonic made you feel groggy, and the sleep felt more akin to passing out than anything, but Alina said it was better than before. Eight weeks with no missed sessions.

"So, tell me, what do you think would help you move on?" Alina asked. It was rare she was so direct with her questions. She often chose to guide your thinking into a specific direction or to make you speak more about a topic.

"Not sure," You shrugged, eyes watching the city bustling outside the window. "But I don't want to start over again. I spent too long drifting across Prythian..."

Alina hummed in agreement. This was one of her classic tactics to get you to elaborate.

"I... like this city. It's exquisite, and I don't think I've ever used that word to describe anywhere... I just feel like it's tainted. Did I ever tell you that Az- my boss, used to always promise to bring me here? I thought he must've been exaggerating. But I was wrong." You looked back at Alina, feeling numb at the mention of one of the many burned promises he had made.

"How is it tainted?" She asked, taking a sip of her tea. A steaming cup was currently keeping your hands warm.

Silence overcame you, but inside and out. It was tough for you to explain. The feelings were there but the words were not. A large, breathy sigh came out. "I don't know..."

"Whatever words come to mind, just say them. I am not testing you," Alina encouraged.

"It's like... I'm waiting for him to come rip it away again. Not just my life in the sense of my wellbeing but everything I've come to know and appreciate. I feel like he's going to appear at any moment and take it all away. Every time I look out at this city I feel like I'm committing it to memory so when it is only that, just a memory, that I have something to hold onto." That was it, you realised as the words left your mouth. The feeling that had been sitting on your chest for the last few weeks was fear.

"Would you like to hear what I think of that?"

"Please," You said, gesturing to Alina.

"I think that these are all feelings. Valid feelings, but only that. Your feelings are up to you to manage. We need to adjust your outlook and start behaving like we can control how we feel," Alina said over her cup.

"So what, I'm just supposed to tell myself to stop being terrified?" Your outbursts of irritation had become more controlled, less frequent... but not completely gone.

Alina laughed a little, not in a mocking way, but it was enough to diffuse the anger bubbling in your chest. "No, that's not what I mean. What I meant is that we need to disentangle these feelings with Velaris. You want to stay here but it's not living if you only go from your home to here and then back again."

That sounded nice. "How?"

"Baby steps," Alina said. "Why don't you go on a small walk? Or take a longer route to our next session? See the city a bit."

That seemed manageable but there was a wave of dread sitting in your chest. "I suppose I can."

"You say that but I can see that you're terrified." Alina placed her cup down on the table in front of her. "It will be tough, and some days are going to feel a lot harder than others. This is another point where I'm asking you to do something, it's just as important as attending these sessions. What we are trying to do is build evidence. Once you start expanding your comfort zone, you will prove to yourself that you can do it, does that make sense?"

You nodded, knitting your fingers together.

"Great. So let's start slow. For the next two weeks, take a different route to our sessions and we can see how we go. Does that sound doable?" Alina was smiling warmly, a hint of pride. Maybe it was because if it had been a month ago, you would have bit her head off for even suggesting this.

"Okay."

After that session, you took a left after leaving the session instead of a right, heading straight for the banks of the Sidra. You didn't walk far, Alina's office was very near the river but it was further than you had dared to go previously. Your heart had raced in your chest, but you had felt another emotion alongside it that you hadn't even tasted in a long time.

Peace.

Over the following weeks, you ventured further and the expectations from Alina got larger. Eventually, you were expected to go on a walk every day, for at least fifteen minutes. After the first couple days you had found it a little tedious once the awe of the closest attractions to you wore off. Alina was very proud when you told her that you had asked the male in the local book shop if there were any books that contained some things to see in the city. Thankfully, there was. Unthankfully, he had stared at your hands when he handed you the bag. That was why you had told Alina in the first place, upset that it seemed to completely derail his train of thought and he stuttered through the rest of the conversation, eyes darting up and down from your fingers... or lack thereof.

Though you were pleased she was happy with you for branching out.

On a random day three weeks after, you sat across from Syrena at a teashop in the middle of Velaris. It was the biggest step you had taken so far, offering to meet her in the middle... and this time as a friend rather than her checking in.

"So how has it been at the clinic?" You asked, eyes struggling to stay focused on Syrena as you took in the newer surroundings.

"Quiet, to be honest. More so than usual." Syrena smiled at you, knowing.

You looked back to her, "Not a bad thing though all things considered."

Syrena chuckled, "True."

Your eyes returned to your surroundings. Where you lived was calm and peaceful. The Sidra lapped gently near your apartment, a few walkers and mainly full of residential buildings on office. This area felt more alive. People hustled about, couples and friends chattered and strolled. Children ran and giggled.

"This is near the Rainbow," Syrena clarified.

Your mouth opened in an O formation. You read about it in the book, the beating heart of Velaris that contained all the entertainment of all desires.

"Would you like to walk there?" Syrena asked cautiously. When you had met earlier, she didn't miss the nerves that skittered down your body, the slight jump when the waitress brought your beverages over to you.

Excitement bloomed in your chest, and you nodded before you had a chance to second guess yourself.

"Are you sure? We can go another day?" Syrena asked again.

"Yes," You started, wiping your clammy hands on your pants. "If I don't go now, it's going to take me awhile to build this confidence again. I feel good today, so I wanna ride out that high."

Thirty minutes later, you were in awe of the Rainbow. When you had first read about it in the book, you scoffed at the author's descriptions, clearly they were the words of a fanatic. But now you knew her words were not nearly descriptive enough. Colours jumped from every nook and cranny, music echoed from an alley, dancers glided down the promenade and street art exploded from the sides of buildings.

"Wow," You exclaimed breathlessly, unable to settle your eyes on just one area. Syrena beamed at you, her teeth shining. "What?" You asked her.

"I've always wanted to see an outsider's reaction to The Rainbow. I've lived in Velaris my whole life, and while I don't underappreciate its beauty, I've always been jealous of those who get to experience it for the first time," She mused lyrically and you couldn't stop the smile that stretched across your lips.

"I'm not sure I've ever been anyone to be jealous of." You span in a slow circle, trying to decide where to walk first.

"Now you are," Syrena smiled, her eyes sobering a little but clearly trying to keep the mood light. "Let's go down this way."

Syrena guided you down the music quarter first, she reminisced about a childhood dream to be a pianist.

"Why didn't you?" You asked after a few minutes of quiet between you as a harpist played one of the sweetest tunes you had ever heard.

"I took a couple lessons as a child, but my teacher was very strict and I kinda lost the passion for it, I guess." Syrena smiled sadly.

"That's unfortunate. Have you ever thought about trying to learn again?" This felt so normal. Like a taste of the life and feelings you could have on a regular basis in the future.

"Every now and then I wonder... actually more when I walk around the rainbow, but I always wonder if there is a point to it, I would never play out here and who would listen to me?" Syrena smiled fondly at the next musician a little ways down, a pianist no less.

You smiled at her, enjoying her appreciation. "I would," You mumbled, not wishing to disturb the trance she was in. Syrena's smiled widened, eyes softening.

A few streets later, involving a stop at a different bakery to try a new pastry they were advertising that did not disappoint, you and Syrena raved about the taste while you ambled down the artist's quarter. Paintings and chalk covered nearly every surface your eyes landed on down to the path you walked on. It was a beautiful mixture of different styles and methods that created a feast for your eyes to digest.

"I've never understood how people do it. Create this sort of things with their minds and make their hands do it," You said, looking as a bunch of children spilled from a doorway that had some of the most intricate designs painted on it... the more you looked the more you realised they resembled Illyrian tattoos.

"Me too, I've seen some of the High Lady's work and it never ceases to amaze me," Syrena agreed.

Speaking of the High Lady, she emerged from the door after the children and made sure each child was handed off to their parent. Something about the sight of her pulled your chest tight. Syrena slowed with you, not ignorant as to why you may be wary. The last time you had seen Feyre was not too long after you awoke after... everything. Seeing her, even with her unaware of your presence set your teeth on edge.

"We can head back if you want," Syrena suggested.

You wanted to. You wanted nothing more than to turn away and return to the comfort of your apartment. At the same time, you heard Alina in the back of your mind telling you to continue your walk, prove to yourself that these are all just feelings and that nothing bad was going to happen. Prove to yourself that you can coexist with these people.

"No, thank you Syrena," You said, forcing a smile that you knew didn't truly reach your eyes. "Let's keep going."

Syrena's smile was measured. Proud and endearing but also wary. "Sure."

So, your steps resumed, you tried not to stare at the High Lady and forced your eyes to look around but they always found their way back to her. You waited for her to notice, heart beating erratically in your chest. You wanted to carry on with your earlier conversation with Syrena, but all thoughts leeched from your mind. The High Lady was in a discussion with one of the parents of the children, smiling down at the little female clinging to their father's leg.

"Feyre runs a free art class for Velaris' children," Syrena said, adding context you didn't look for. At that point, Feyre could have been talking to a Suriel and you wouldn't have been able to gather the mental power to acknowledge it.

Close enough now to hear her conversation with the male in front of her, his daughter clinging to his legs, they chatted about framing the most recent artwork the little one had created. Your anxiety was drawn tight, a snake poised and ready to strike. Feyre turned her head, locking eyes with you. Her own widened only slightly before she quickly finished up her conversation with the father before he made his retreat. Something you were jealous of, especially so when Feyre walked towards you, your name falling from her lips with grace.

"How are you finding The Rainbow?" She asked, clasping her hands in front of her.

"It's beautiful," You replied, brain working overtime trying to find more words while heat rushed to your face while you joined your hands behind your back.

The awkwardness did not faze the High Lady as her grin widened and she looked around her, "I know, isn't it. I couldn't believe it the first time I had seen it. Gods, sometimes I still do."

It was easy to forget the past of the female standing before you, once a human girl who singlehandedly spared your country from Amarantha's reign. Now ruling the Night Court and equally as powerful, if not more, than the most powerful High Lord in history.

"I was saying earlier that I am jealous of those who get to experience this for the first time," Syrena added earning a laugh from Feyre.

"Have you been in any shops yet?" Feyre asked.

"Uh, not yet," You answered. You knew there had been an account set up for you filled with your earnings as a spy but also a lump sum that could fund an egregious living three times over. A sum you were afraid to touch. "Just sightseeing so far."

"Well," Feyre began looking between you and Syrena fondly. "If you ever want another shopping companion, you know where to find me."

If you were being honest with yourself, it sounded like the worst idea you'd ever heard. Your heart was barely able to keep up with this most basic exchange, but you knew she meant well. She was about to say something more when a male popped his head out the door and your ears began ringing and head spun.

"Feyre, are you-" Azriel choked on his words as he appeared from the door.

The gravity of what was happening dawned on all of them as your vision swam, the shadowed man blurring. You could vaguely hear yourself beginning to pant, mind swimming with images of blood, a rag over your face, the soft voice of the male in front of you begging for you to confess the day before his High Lord nearly tore your mind to shreds.

One half step back.

Another.

Breaths echoed in your ears, eyes unable to remove themselves from the subject of your misery.

Syrena called your name, like someone trying to calm a bear before it attacks.

Somewhere in your mind, Alina's comments about taking his power away from you circled but right there, right then seeing his hulking form and wings tucked in but still larger than most you had ever seen... you couldn't. Couldn't stay there and be at peace that you and this... this monster occupied the same space. Even when he looked just as tortured as he did when he visited you after your ordeal, even when he looked like he didn't even know what sleep was, even when Feyre looked between you both with pain in her eyes. Pain for both of you.

In your rising terror, the only logical thing you could think to do was to take Feyre's hand, squeezing it like your life depended on it, "Take me away from here. Please. Please- I can't."

Feyre did not waste a second, only joining hands with Syrena before winowing all three of you to the door of your home. The moment you smelled the familiar scent of home, even through your front door, your knees began to quiver. You remained still, staring at your door as though it was the open arms of The Mother.

"Your key, darling," Syrena cooed, placing a hand on your shoulder as if you were made of glass.

You fished it out of your pocket, almost dropping it your palms were so sweaty and shaky. Syrena cupped your hand, taking the key and jingling it in the lock until it yielded and your door opened. You didn't look at anyone before beelining to the large couch in the centre of your open plan apartment and burying your hands into your head.

"Is it okay for me to come in?" Feyre asked.

Syrena answered on your behalf, ushering Feyre in and closing the door. They settled either side of you but all you could do was put all of your focus on your breathing. On making sure every particle of air left your lungs and then making sure your lungs were fully expanded. A hand came to rest on your back, you weren't sure whose, but you allowed yourself to appreciate the warmth, the comfort. Since you had awoken, everyone around you had been cautious and measured in how they interacted with your body. Like the faintest of touch would be the straw the breaks the camel's back. And perhaps you would have weeks ago. But now you felt a crushing loneliness and need for warmth and affection. So when the hand on your back realised you weren't going to shatter at its touch began to rub gently, you cried in relief. Your shoulders shook and tears streamed down your face quicker than you could control.

***

You had been to three sessions with Alina before you were able to talk about your day at The Rainbow. Since then, you hadn't ventured to it again and your walks had become far less adventurous.

Sitting in front of her, Alina was quiet, letting you lead the way of the conversation. She knew you were keeping something from her but she hadn't let on. Until now, it seemed.

"I went to The Rainbow with Syrena three weeks ago," You said, rubbing your chest where a weight had settled since that day.

Alina smiled tentatively, "That is wonderful news. The furthest you've been to?"

You smiled nervously. Pride was sitting right alongside your anxiety. It was a strange sensation. You felt proud of yourself for going outside of your comfort zone but also wished you never had because the subsequent anxiety made you want to crawl out of your own skin. "Uh, yes. But it did not end well."

Alina's smile did not falter, though it remained measured, "Tell me about it."

At first, you had wondered if Syrena would tell Alina of the event. But when Alina had made no allusion to it during the first session after the fact you knew she hadn't. You wondered if the roles were reversed if you would have told and the caring part of you might have - you would've wanted to make sure Alina knew of your coming moods but the more you dwelled on it the more you realised that Syrena had respected your privacy and trusted your ability to tackle what happened in your own time. It made you feel like a normal person, like you had control.

"Well," You began. "I met Syrena for some tea in a shop halfway from her and me. She mentioned that we were close to The Rainbow and after she explained what it was, we decided to go for a stroll. To be honest, the idea made me feel sick, but I could hear you in my head telling me to push myself. To prove to myself that I was safe," You began, earning a smile from Alina.

"Well this is very positive so far, I am proud of you."

Warmth blossomed in your chest at the praise, "Hm. It was going well- actually I was really enjoying it. We ran into Lady Feyre. Her art class was finishing up." You took a deep breath, trying to unwind the ball of unease that had knotted itself in your chest three weeks ago. "She spotted us and came over to talk with us. We talked about what The Rainbow was like... it was nice. It felt normal. I felt like I was at least on the way to being normal."

Alina nodded along with your words, expression unchanged.

"But then Azriel came out of the studio, he was looking for the High Lady."

Alina's smiled faded a little but not in a pitying manner. "How did that make you feel?"

Clearing your throat, your eyes lowered to your lap. They flitted back and forth as words seemed to rush into your mind with incapacitating speed. Your nostrils flared as your tried to focus on one thing. "I think many feelings went through me at once."

"Okay, what was the main one?" Alina asked, joining her hands on her lap.

"It's strange. I felt fear and anger at the same time but other things too. It was like they were in competition to be the main emotion I felt. If you know what I mean," You mumbled, feeling childish at the inability to form your thought more clearly.

"I know exactly what you mean," Alina replied much to your surprise. "I can only imagine all of those feelings and sensations running through you in that moment. Especially since you were not expecting Azriel's presence." Not for the first time, relief swept over you at Alina's words. It was a comfort when she was able to formulate the exact words when your own failed you.

"Yes. It was tough enough for me to speak with Lady Feyre so I was already working through my anxiety with that when he appeared. The whole time we were walking through The Rainbow, I wondered about running into once of them. So when it was Feyre I had almost allowed myself to believe that was the only chance encounter that could happen in the same day." You let your guard down on that front, you didn't have to add. So, the shock of seeing Azriel was so visceral.

"What happened next?" Alina asked.

"I asked Feyre to winnow us away. My whole body felt like it was vibrating. I don't think I could've walked all the way home without falling apart," You answered, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your palms.

"I get that. I often get jealous of those who can winnow." Alina's attempt at injecting humour did not go unappreciated.

"I don't remember much of the rest of that day. I fell asleep on the couch soon after and didn't wake up until the following morning. Syrena stayed with me. Since it happened, I guess I'm feeling quite annoyed with myself," You admitted, shoulders drooping a little.

"Why is that?" Alina asked, the confusion on her face genuine. You could usually tell when Alina's expressions were the practiced professional expressions and her true feelings.

"I was doing so well. Building all this evidence for myself and I cracked at the first hurdle." You clenched your hands together.

"Would you like to hear my thoughts on the whole thing?" Alina asked. With a nod from you she launched into her thoughts. "You have been a dream client so far. You listen to me and have been genuine in your attempts at bettering yourself. Sometimes it takes people years to even be willing to begin their journey. You are exceptional. That day, you walked on your own to meet Syrena and even sat down to appreciate your time with your friend and then decided to go further into the city. You allowed yourself to enjoy your surroundings. If I had told you that you would be walking around Valeris for pleasure within months of our first session, would you habe believed me?"

You swiftly shook your head, "I probably would have laughed at you."

"Exactly. Then, on your first time being that far into the city you were faced with one of the people associated with the male who imprisoned you and tortured you and you did not succumb to the pressure. So yes, you left after facing that very same male, you had crossed a great many hurdles that day alone. These things take time, my dear. You will feel good some days and worse on others. Sometimes you may feel like walking around the whole city, others will mean that walking around your apartment are a struggle."

You listened intently, letting her words wash over you even though it was hard to see the positivity in it all. "Is this just going to my life now?" You asked exasperated. "Waking up wondering if I will break apart at the sight of a single male? What way of living is this?"

Alina's face became grave, hearing what you were really saying beneath it all. The proverbial fire sputtering out. "I won't pretend to not know what it is you are really saying," She said. "Humans believe our long lives are something to be envious of when really, we witness and are subject to all of the horrors the world has to offer. What I think we share in common is our acquisition of memories and good moments so we feel like we have something to live for. Even with your hard life, I know you've had good moments that you cling onto."

Flashes of memories flicked through your mind, most of them spent with Azriel. Agony and longing twisted in your chest.

"What is important is that we figure out the small things that make our lives good and repeat those actions. For me, I like going to the coast and listening to the waves crash on the beach. Often my mood will come back once I leave the beach but at least in that moment, I sought out something that brought me peace. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

A vice began to clamp around your throat. "Yes," You replied. "I don't know what that is for me anymore."

Alina smiled a little, "Then you are very lucky."

Confusion furrowed your brows very quickly. "Huh?"

"You get to try so many different things until you find what works for you. Within reason, I don't want you drowning your sorrows," She joked lightly.

"How so?"

"Well, I have more homework for you now. Each week, I want you to try find something that brings you peace. I can give you ideas if you want or you can try things you have found on your own," Alina said, standing to grab a book from the shelf behind her.

You swallowed at the task ahead of you. These things felt like chores, when all you wanted to do was lie down and never get up but your feelings weren't to be trusted right now. Though they were valid, as Alina always stated, they were not always to right or should be acted upon. This was one of those moments. "Okay."

"Remember, there is no one right way of doing this. Different things work for different people. It could take awhile to find what works for you or it might not, do not let anything discourage you." Alina placed the book in your hands. Prythian's Hidden Gems, the title read.

"This book seems better suited to a tourist," You mumbled, flicking through the random pages of hikes near the Illyrian Steppes or hidden art on the caves in Winter that were thought to be made by the very first fae kind.

"We can all be tourists in our own homes. It's about appreciation. You might find something there or you might decide that your peace comes from watching a waterfall. All you have to do is try." Alina truly was a marvel. She lived and breathed her own teachings, living proof that things can be better. It was only then that you realised there was a very real possibility that Alina had been in your place now. But how had she gotten through with no Alina of her own to guide her? A question that some day you would have the courage to ask her.

"Do you think there will ever be a time where I can stand to be in his presence?" You asked, closing the book gently and clutching its spine.

"That entirely depends on you and what is best for your life going forward. Is being around him something you will see yourself needing to do in the future?" Alina asked.

"I'm not entirely sure to be honest with you."

"Well then, that is something we can revisit. Things like that have a way of making themselves clearer as time goes on," Alina answered.

***

It took a whole year of trying different things before you settled on something that truly felt like peace and tranquillity. A whole year of sitting beside the ocean, trying to paint, learn an instrument, hiking trails, reading among many other activities. You had enjoyed some, hated others. The first thing you had tried was Alina's own method; sitting beside an ocean with waves crashing rhythmically. At first, it was relaxing but soon you had decided that the sand sat uncomfortably in your shoes, the feeling of salt water on your skin and biting winds ended up grating heavily on your nerves more than the calmness Alina claimed she felt. The next activity was hiking, but after the first one you had decided the constant feeling of uphill climbs and then controlling a descent felt all too similar to your internal struggle. Then it was painting which you kept up with for awhile before giving up – not only did you have to figure out the best way to hold the various utensils with your altered hands but you eventually realised you were forcing yourself to like it as way to ignore what your were feeling which Alina had to remind you that these activities were supposed create a safe environment for you to self-regulate, not self-destruct. The next activity was reading. It was something you always enjoyed, nicking books from merchants in your youth when you could but you decided you wanted reading to be something you did purely for pleasure and not as something you did when you needed to sort yourself internally. Alina agreed, she herself enjoyed getting lost for hours in a good plot and it was wise to not meddle with something that was not broken.

The year mark passed, and you felt like you had come on leaps and bounds in some ways. The city of Velaris was no longer an object of your fear where you second-guessed every turn you made. But you still hadn't found that one thing that brought you the peace and safety you wanted to understand yourself. This was when you decided to try a different form of hike. Well, the word hike was steep, but it involved some walking on rough terrain after being winnowed to a certain point along the youthful Sidra in the mountains. You hadn't maintained a particularly close bond with the High Lady but in the year that passed, you had seen her around and felt comfortable enough to ask the favour. Feyre had agreed without a second thought or question and left you where you requested. To her, it was a random point in the river, narrow and rushing downwards to the city that was miles and miles away.

"Are you okay on your own?" Feyre asked.

"I am," You replied, eyes tracking the water. "I will call out to you if I'm in trouble. Thank you, Feyre, I appreciate it."

Despite her apprehension, Feyre nodded and vanished, leaving you on your own. You glanced upstream and then down, breathing in the scent of the moist soil around you -- the flora teeming with life as though the Sidra imbued it with its youth. It probably did. You walked downstream, watching the river flow faster in areas and slower in others, fish darting and rocks getting overturned. You carried on when the river veered off on a path you couldn't follow, letting your ears guide in the right direction. Two hours of trekking and tracing its path led closer and closer to the roaring you had hoped you'd find. The temperature dropped a little and eventually you found yourself alongside a large drop and the river racing out over the edge of it before falling down to carry on with its journey. But you wouldn't follow it now, you had found where you wanted to be. The waterfall was ethereal, the light casting a prism of colours off the surrounding rocks and making the mist glitter incandescently. It was cold, your skin puckered and hairs rose on your arms but you felt at peace. Smiling to yourself, you carefully traced your way around until you were sitting on a ledge in the rather large plunge pool the waterfall had created behind itself. The water poured like a curtain in front of you and the roar of water made your brain feel like it was releasing a breath it had been holding for a long time. It was as though it had released its wrinkled and gone smooth and all the emotions that had been weighing on you slid away. The air was fresh, filling your lungs. The moisture in the air making your muscles release all tension. You leaned your head back and rested it against the rock behind you and closed your eyes. It was like the Sidra knew you needed somewhere to rest and had carved the perfect seat for you.

Hours had passed before you decided to leave, the sun had dipped below the horizon long ago and you had been injected with an entirely new sense of awe when the moon rose and suddenly it was difficult to differentiate the glittering mist of the Sidra and the sparkling sky of the Night Court. When you had returned to the point Feyre left you at, you found her already there looking rather nervous. And tired.

"How long have you been here?" You asked, smiling warmly.

Feyre looked at you for a moment, like it was the first time she had really ever seen you and smiled back. "About two hours. I got a little worried. Next time, perhaps could you send me a little mental note to tell me you're okay."

"Surely you could have just pushed a message into my mind?" You asked, no accusation in your tone despite your words.

Feyre's face became grave, "I would never. You said you'd let me know if you were in trouble and I trusted that. I wouldn't force myself where I was not given express permission."

Warmth bloomed in your chest at her words. "You're quite honourable, Feyre. Not many with your power would be so humble or honest, if that's not too patronising to say."

Feyre's smile returned, "Not patronising at all. You look like you enjoyed yourself."

You mirrored her smile and looked back downstream, the roar of the waterfall still echoing somewhere in the back of your mind. "I did," You said. "I found rather a lovely place to relax."

Feyre's head peered downstream as if she would be able to see what you were talking about. "Maybe one day you could show me?"

You thought you would feel protective of your new hideout, a secret place just for yourself but when you really thought of it, the beauty of what you had uncovered was meant to be shared. Especially with Feyre, queen of the land if not with anyone else. "Yes, I think I will next time. And Syrena too."

Feyre beamed at that and just for a moment, she did not look like the High Lady. She looked like the young female that she was, an innocence and wonder sparkling in her eyes that you had only then realised she likely had not had much time to discover in her life. The tale of destitute life as a human had never strayed far from your ears and then he role in freeing Prythian and the subsequent war not long after. Now she was a leader and mother. All things that looked like they suited her well but there was a yearning for adventure that brewed alongside all of it.

***

"You look like a new female," Alina commented in your session the following week.

"I have found what it is that helps me relax," You answered, smiling.

Alina grinned a toothy grin and genuine pride shined on her face, "Well done. Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Well," You began. "I used to live along the Sidra in the high lands. When I was there, I used to wonder what was along the river. I had always wanted to just walk along its banks and see what I found. I thought that might be something I could do to relax after almost everything I've tried before hasn't been quite what I was looking for." You joined your hands together, looking down at the light pink scars and not feeling ill at the sight. You hadn't for awhile now.

"Sounds quite nice," Alina said.

"Well, that's not even the best part. I came across the most beautiful waterfall. Alina, I sat there for hours. Until the moon came up. It was magical."

Surprise alighted in her eyes at your words. "A waterfall. How amazing."

"Yes, it was. I don't think I have felt as at peace as I did there. The cold and wet felt like nothing," You said, closing your eyes at the memory.

"Well then, it sounds like you've found your safe space. How would you feel about reducing our sessions?" Alina asked.

For over a year you had been attending her sessions once a week. It was ingrained in your schedule now. The thought unsettled you but, in a way, you knew it was a good sign. "To how often?"

"Once every fortnight. We can always increase when you need it. You have shown considerable progress in this past year and in reducing our sessions, it will encourage you to start doing things for yourself. If you are feeling down or overwhelmed then you can use what we have been working on to help yourself," Alina said.

Pride and a hint of anxiety whirled over your body but you nodded all the same. "I am surprised to say this, but I am excited."

"I'm glad. You deserve nothing less than to be happy with your life. This is the path towards it. But please remember, if you are in crisis, do not hesitate to contact me immediately. I am here to help you and there are certain things that you do not need to deal with on your own. I do not believe you are at high, or even moderate, risk but remember, if you think you pose a danger to yourself or anyone else, come to me." Alina reached across and squeezed your hands gently.

"Okay. Thank you, Alina, for everything you've done for me so far. Even in the time where I sat here and snapped at you or cried or said nothing at all. I wouldn't have gotten through it without you," You praised, feeling your throat grow a little hoarse.

Alina's cheeks reddened, "I merely guided you in the right direction. You did the hard work. While I thank you for your praise, remember to thank yourself. For not giving up. What you have achieved so far and are continuing to achieve is hard and most people go their whole lives without ever bettering themselves."

***

"Where are we going?" Syrena asked warily, steps trudging through the grass.

"You'll see," You replied, glancing over your shoulder at her and Feyre.

It had taken you two more months before you invited Syrena and Feyre to the waterfall. At first it was because you were adjusting to the new routine of seeing Alina less, then it wasn't a good time for Syrena, and Feyre had pushed it off. You knew it had something to do with her High Lady duties and by the rather tired look of her, you knew better than to ask when she was clearly sick of talking about whatever it was.

"If you saw how she looked when I collected her the last time, you'd know to trust her," Feyre joked lightly.

"You look like you need a bit of that right now. Both of you, really," You commented. Feyre looked pale, her brown hair looking a little flat. Syrena's brown skin looked ashen, like sleep had evaded her for at least three days.

"Gee thanks," Syrena nipped back playfully. Her tone was tired and you were glad now that you had asked Feyre to winnow you all closer to the waterfall than you did last time. It was only a thirty-minute trek now compared to the two hours you had originally done.

"I didn't mean it like that," You replied apologetically. "But I promise you it's worth it."

The familiar roaring was close by, and it didn't take long for you to arrive at the waterfall. Both of your company gasped at the sight.

"Wow," Feyre whispered to herself.

"Beautiful," Syrena said at the same time.

"I found this awhile back," You said, still as in awe as you were the first day you saw it.

"No wonder you spent so long here the last time," Feyre sighed breathily.

"There's a nice place to sit and relax if you come with me."

You led both of your friends to the plunge pool and took your bag from your back. You pulled out the blankets and cushions you purchased specifically for this moment and laid them out around you. You settled onto them with Feyre and Syrena and they both wasted no time in lying back and stretching their muscles as though it was the first time in a long time that they had actually managed to do so. You did not doubt that it was. With a snort, you laid back with them, your three heads near each other in a circle. Both of their eyes were closed, faces relaxed like they were seconds away from sleep. You closed your eyes too and the feeling of sleep washed over you quicker than you expected and soon all three of you slumbered peacefully together.

What felt like hours later you opened your eyes to see Syrena sitting up and rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. Feyre was still fast asleep on your right. The moon had begun its ascent, you realised, meaning it had been at least four hours of sleep.

"I think that's the first time I've fallen asleep naturally since everything happened and actually slept well," You croaked out, running your fingers through your tangled hair.

Syrena smiled tiredly. "I think that's the first time I've fallen asleep so fast," She joked but you did not miss the way her eyes seemed to warm at your statement.

"No Rhys, you can't go blueberry picking right now," Feyre mumbled out.

Syrena's head snapped towards yours and your hand was over your mouth muffling your snort of laughter in an instant. Syrena didn't get the chance to raise her hand before a pig-like snort escaped her making a giggle erupt from you, in turn making Syrena laugh loudly. All the noise roused Feyre from her slumber with furrowed brows and confusion swimming in her gaze.

"What's so funny?" Feyre groaned, wiping the corner of her mouth with her sleeve. Her confusion only made you both laugh more.

"Does the High Lord enjoy blueberry picking, Feyre?" You teased, clutching your stomach with laughter as Feyre stared at you like you had grown an extra head.

"Huh?"

"You were sleep talking," Syrena giggled, wiping at her eyes.

"Oh," Feyre groaned, covering her face with her hands although her shoulders shook with laughter. "What was I saying?"

"You said 'No Rhys, you can't go blueberry picking right now.'," You replied, air quoting with your hands.

Feyre lifted her head for a moment before throwing it back with laughter, "Gods, that's so weird. I wonder where that came from?"

"Who knows. I used to sleepwalk all the time when I was younger," Syrena added. "Would go to sleep and then wake up in a different part of the house but I would vaguely remember it, like my dreams were playing out in the real world."

"That's so odd." You smiled at your two friends. "Thank you both for sharing this place with me."

"We should be thanking you," Feyre stated, Syrena nodding along. "This place is beautiful. To be honest, I'm surprised Rhys didn't know about it."

Warmth bloomed on your face as raw appreciation for the companionship flooded you. "Are you sure he didn't?" You asked.

"I showed him where we are and he said he hadn't even so much as heard a whisper about this place before," Feyre replied, eyes looking out at the scenery from behind the waterfall. You assumed 'showing Rhys' was some daemati ability.

"Huh," Syrena mumbled. "When fae live as long as we do, surely someone would have discovered this before."

"I wonder," You said. "I used to live further upstream on the Sidra and had always wanted to follow its path. I never did, and to think this was here this whole time."

"Why didn't you?" Feyre questioned.

You pondered for a moment, pulling out some wine and snacks from your bag and handing them to your very appreciative friends, "I suppose I was just too busy. There was always some mission that needed doing or reports filled out. I guess I just made excuses over the years." You heart thumped a little harder in your chest as you neared discussion of the incident.

"I get that," Syrena joined. "I think it took me five or six years of living where I live in Velaris to go into a cafe that I passed on my walk to work before I actually did it."

Feyre looked as though she was contemplating your words, like there was something she had put off seeing.

"Have you gone back to your house since?" Feyre asked plainly. Her bluntness was rather refreshing, you realised. It was nice for people to just speak the words on their mind rather than find ways to skirt around it.

"No," You answered and took a swig of your wine. "I've thought about it but... It feels almost like I would be fully accepting my old life as over and I'm not sure if I'm ready."

"I know exactly what you mean." Feyre nodded with you. "It took me a long time to revisit my old cottage, or what was left of it anyways."

You brought your knees to your chest and looked out the scenery too.

"Your new life can be better than the last," Syrena stated, also looking outwards. "Even if it doesn't feel like that now."

"Well I've never had friends like you two before. Being a spy means a very solitary life as I'm sure you know. There was a long time where the only other being I had meaningful contact with was Azriel." His name fell from your lips with ease. With nothing weighing it down, weighing you down, you were surprised to realise. It was the first time you had spoken his name in months, and it was usually accompanied by the most intense feeling betrayal... and now; nothing. There was still anger and sadness at the loss of your old life, but it didn't seem to carry the same severity it once did.

It seemed both Feyre and Syrena noticed it too.

"Do you miss your old life?" Syrena asked, catching on that you were ready to talk about certain aspects of it.

"Yes and no," You said with a sigh. "I miss how normal I used to feel, if you can believe that with the line of work I was in."

"I know what you mean," Syrena said too quickly to sound as though she hadn't felt the same way before.

You eyed her, giving her the chance to speak if she wanted to. Syrena looked down at her hands that were joined together on her lap, legs spread out in front of her.

"My brother was killed during the Attor attack on the city." Her words were clipped, like she may just cry from speaking them. Feyre's face hardened, eyes going distant as though she was remembering the battle.

"I remember hearing about it," You filled the silence as Syrena took a moment to collect herself. "I was on a mission in Winter at the time. I remember wanting to come and help but I had never been to Velaris before and Azriel always said he would make contact with me if he needed me to abandon a mission."

"He took over our father's business after he was killed in the war four hundred years ago," Syrena said, voice more measured and controlled. "It was just a little fruit stall but father had built relations with distant lands so he managed to gain a selection not often found in Prythian. Jared didn't take any time to grieve our father's passing. Just wiped his tears and took over immediately. Then the Attor came. They slit his neck open in front of me and my mother. We would've been next only wolves made of water took them out at the last moment," Syrena said with a glance to Feyre. Feyre's face was grave but she nodded.

You took a moment to reach across and place a hand over Syrena's. Feyre placed a hand over yours.

"I couldn't continue with the business after that," Syrena said with a hint of shame. "It felt cursed. I was already a trained medic so I told mother to move in with me, and I would support us." Syrena smiled sadly. "But grief consumed my mother, and she killed herself on the anniversary of my father's death."

Your heart plummeted to the base of your being.

Syrena looked across at you and Feyre, tears shining on her cheeks as they fell like their own waterfall. "Mother and father were mates and they loved each other. She was a different female after he died, like the best parts of her died with him that day. I still remember her screams as her mating bond disappeared, even though I was very young at the time." You rubbed your hand over your chest at Syrena's words, fear and sadness sitting there at the thought that whatever it was you were feeling would have been more than ten times worse in Syrena's mother's case. Feyre looked like she knew all too well what her mother had felt, from the way she paled. "I think mother held on for me and Jared. When he took over our father's fruit business, it was like his memory was being preserved. So, when he died too, my mother no longer had enough of herself to hang onto."

Matching tears were flowing down both yours and Feyre's face at her words.

Syrena wiped her cheeks and smiled weakly, "I still sometimes wish none of it happened and that I had a normal life like others. A life with my whole family alive and well, able to celebrate solstices together instead of placing flowers on their graves."

Feyre leapt across and pulled both you and Syrena into a tight hug. "We can be normal for each other," She whispered, sniffling. "We can do normal people things for each other and with each other."

A watery laugh escaped your lips, "I like the sound of that... I've never had a family before."

Arms squeezed tightly around each other as you all made promises to each other. Promises to celebrate together, to cry together and to come to this place together every now and then to just be yourselves. No High Lady, no ex-spy, no medic. Just you, Feyre and Syrena.

***

Today was the day you would see him, you realised when you woke up. Six months since the revelation that the mere mention of him name didn't strike fear within you. You wanted to see him, if he would agree to see you. Now was the time you were ready to face him and take back that last bit of control he had over you. Control you had given him. But no more.

You wrote a message to Feyre asking if Azriel was free. He was, Feyre answered without pause. Feyre knew this day would come and she knew you could deal with it on your own. You sent a return message requesting that she ask him if he was willing to meet with you today. You made sure to tell her to let him know it was okay if he wasn't ready. Two years since you woke up in Syrena's care. Two years of healing, anger, panic attacks and understanding both yourself and him. Feyre's note came back not long after with a time and an offer for you to pick the place. You sent back your chosen location and chewed on your thumb nail.

Three measly hours later that you had spent carefully selecting your clothing and styling your hair. It mattered that Azriel saw you as a person; not as his victim. You were more than that. Sitting at a table positioned beside the Sidra, you breathed deeply through the anxiety that was raging within you. You were a whole half hour early, but you had paced around your apartment enough and needed the air. It only took another ten minutes for Azriel to arrive, sitting down in front of you with the poise only a centuries-old warrior like him could manage. You stared at him, and he stared at you. Intently. Like he was forcing himself to look at you. Removing your eyes from his, you poured tea into his cup and yours.

"Hello." You didn't know where else to start, but that seemed like the most appropriate.

"Hello," Azriel replied, closing his hands around the steaming cup in front of him, your name followed closely after, like he was testing the sound of it. Like he was seeing if he still had permission to use your name.

"How are you?" You asked, sipping from your own. It was stiff, you knew, with the mountain of things to be said but you were healed enough now to not want to tear his head off.

"I'm... as I usually am," Azriel answered honestly. It was a relief. He was one to hide his own emotions for his idea of the greater good. You were glad he wasn't doing that now. Honesty was the only thing you had left between you. "You?"

"I'm doing well, Azriel." His shoulders seemed to release some tension at your response. Tension that had been there for a very long time.

"I am sorry," Azriel blurted out the moment the words left your lips, startling you. "I am so sorry for everything I put you through. For what I took from you." His chest heaved a little.

"I know you are." The words flowed from your lips easily. "I would be if I were you."

Shock shined in the Shadowsinger's eyes.

"I brought you here to let you know that I forgive you," You stated, surprising yourself. It seemed most of your revelations happened on the fly.

"You... forgive me?" Azriel asked incredulously. "How?"

"I don't know... I guess the more time that went by the more I realised that you acted on the information you had at the time. Don't get me wrong, I feel like my heart is going to beat through my chest at any moment and I don't think I'll ever forget what was done to me but I've realised I don't want to hold onto it anymore. I don't want it to define me and to carry it with me everyday. I want to just be in my new life." Your words seemed to physically hit Azriel, stunning him.

You took a moment to really look at him. At the tortured face you had grown accustomed to seeing since it happened. His black hair was longer than it used to be, curling at the ends. There was a new scar just beneath his left eye. His shadows licked up and down his body, whispering in his ear like they usually did but his attention remained solely on you like he was truly looking at you too, taking in the changes.

"I'm not sure I understand... I thought you would want to punish me... I came here willing to do anything to atone for what I did, what I allowed to happen to you," Azriel said rather breathlessly, like he was struggling to believe what was happening.

"You've tortured yourself for the last two years over it, I'm not sure making you suffer more would make me feel any better about the whole thing." In the months that had passed, especially those after you ran into him on The Rainbow, you pondered him. Pondered how he looked. Even now, he looked haggard. Sad.

"There surely must be something you want of me? Some part of you that wants your vengeance?" Azriel continued, your words going in one ear and out the other.

Azriel's demeanour made you lean across the table and grab his hand that was still grasping his teacup like his life depended on it. "What I want is for you to forgive yourself and move on. I have and so should you."

The Illyrian warrior, in all his might, all his glory, looked at you with the eyes of a lost puppy. Like you were his salvation. In that stare, moisture gathered along his lash line, making your chest twist in a way you did not expect. You never expected him to cry. Azriel had witnessed untold horrors and recounted them to you and never shed a tear... until now. Something about seeing a male that spent centuries honing his ability to control himself lose it made you throat clog and heat build behind your own eyes.

"I ruined what we had," Azriel croaked, his voice strained with the effort of keeping his tone steady. "I spent..." He paused to collect himself. "So long hoping to find my match..." Another measured pause. "And when I finally did, I destroyed it."

Tears trickled down your face at his words, at him speaking what had been flowering between you into existence for the first time. You recalled all the times you had wondered before about if he actually liked you as you liked him. If there was a something between you. "Pretty fucked up isn't it?" You said before thinking. "That we admitted there was something between us like this? When it broke before it even began." You withdrew your hand from his to wipe your face.

Azriel wiped his thumb beneath his eyes though he did not hide his emotions. "I'm so sorry."

"I know," You said again. "I know. But please Azriel, enough of your misery. For your own sake. It won't make what happened disappear. It won't make what we had come back. Move on with your life. You will find a lovely female to spend your life with," You said quietly, with a kind smile even if the words made your heart twist.

Azriel looked lost for words, eyes searching yours. Wide and vulnerable, like a child. Then a soft 'thank you,' fell from his lips. Fearing your ability to keep your raging emotions at bay, you spoke no further and stood. You nodded once to Azriel and turned to leave. As you walked away, despite your turmoil, you felt lighter than you had in years.

***

"I saw Azriel," You mentioned to Alina halfway through your next session, unsure how to work it into the conversation.

Alina's eyes widened, "This sounds like more than running into him on the street."

"I met him for tea," You replied.

"And how did that go?"

"Well. I felt like I was going to puke the whole time and my body was tense all over but I spoke to him. I took that power back. I told him I forgave him." Alina's eyebrows rose higher and higher the more you spoke.

"And do you? Forgive him?" She asked, resting her elbows on her knees.

"I do. I think I did a long time ago, I just didn't realise it until I actually spoke the words to him. I’m not sure my version of forgiveness is the most conventional but I know that what happened has no power over me anymore.”

"You are a very impressive lady," Alina stated like it was as obvious as the sky being blue.

"I'm not sure. I guess I've just realised that there is more to life than revolving around that one thing. I've made somewhat of a life for myself, and friends. All things I didn't have before." Leaning back in your chair, you smiled freely at Alina who smiled back.

"You are impressive. And strong. Don't overshadow what you have achieved."

***

"I thought I'd find you here." Feyre's voice made you jump but you settled quick enough.

"Just wanted to think," You replied quietly. It had been four hours since you came here.

Feyre settled beside you, leaning her head on your shoulder. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"You'd pay thrice that not to know them," You joked in return earning yourself a playful shove.

"No, I wouldn't. Now spill."

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about my meeting with Azriel." This was the first time you had spoken with anyone other than Alina about the meeting despite its occurrence three months ago.

"I wondered about that," Feyre mused softly. "What is it about it that you can't stop thinking about?"

Rubbing your eyes frustratedly you groaned. "I don't know exactly. I thought I'd feel a sense of closure. Of letting that chapter come to a close."

"But you don't," Feyre stated.

"But I don't," You mimicked. "I feel like it's fucked up. After everything that happened, I should be happy to never see him again."

"I don't think there's a right or wrong way to feel about these things," Feyre said quietly. "We always hear and read things about how we should be feeling certain ways, but I find I almost never do."

"I feel sad. Heartbroken even, like I've broken up with him," You groaned and buried your head into your hands.

"You have in a way. I know there was never anything official there but we both know you and Azriel cared for each other," Feyre said. Once again, you were glad of her straightforwardness.

"We loved each other," You corrected, deciding to be just as plain as Feyre.

"And you're sad it's over?" She asked.

"I don't know why though. If anything, it was over the day him and the General barged into my home and detained me."

There was a long stretch of silence. Either because Feyre did not know what to say or because there was nothing left to say. Probably a bit of both.

"How is he doing?" You asked Feyre, the first time you had ever asked after Azriel. At first it was because you did not want to know, then it was because you were afraid of the answer, then it was because you did not wish to pit Feyre between two of her friends and now... Now you did not care.

"Better, but still not great. He is a hard book to read at times, but I think all of us could tell the difference in him after the truth came out two years ago," Feyre said.

"I can only imagine." Your words weren't sarcastic. You often wondered what went through Azriel's head in those moments after the truth was uncovered, while you lay there battered and broken before him.

"I'm not sure he will ever forgive himself for it, y'know," Feyre added.

"I know that. But I forgive him. He knows that now." Genuine surprise alighted in Feyre's eyes at your words. "I thought he would have told you."

"Azriel doesn't tend to talk to me where you're concerned. He knows we're close and I suspect he might not want to jeopardize our friendship," Feyre commented. The more little titbits of information you learned, the more you understood that they all respected each other deeply.

"That would never happen, but I understand." Feyre smiled warmly at your words.

"Can I say something that may make me sound deluded?" You asked.

"Those are my favourite sort of questions," Feyre encouraged.

"I told Azriel that he would meet a female one day and be very happy... when I did, I felt sad. Like I haven't actually gotten over him." The feelings that had made themselves present since you said those words stirred to life again.

"It makes sense to me," Feyre stated, surprising you.

"It does?"

"Uh huh," She continued. "You both never had the chance to explore your feelings for each other properly. Now, despite it all, they're still there like unfinished business. How can you get closure when your heart is still open to him?" Feyre rephrased your trouble to you.

Unease stirred inside you at her words. "But why is it still open? He betrayed me in the worst way possible. Am I going insane? None of this makes any sense."

Feyre cooed you, rubbing a hand along your back. "It's okay. I'm not saying you have to do anything about it. The first step is to understand these things. What's worse is denying their existence and making them a larger problem for you to deal with in the future."

A deep, bone rattling sigh escaped you. "I suppose you're right. I just want it all to be over now. I have spent so long dealing with it all that I just want to be rid of it."

"Don't I know it," Feyre sighed.

You leaned your head on top of Feyre's, sighing tiredly. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Feyre asked. "We're talking about you."

"I've said all I can say. You seem more tired than usual lately, Syrena too now that I think of it. If you don't want to say anything that's fine but I just want you to know that I've noticed and that I am someone you can lean on," You mentioned, joining your hands with Feyre's.

Feyre's shoulders bowed a little, "There is something going on. Something big. The unrest with Autumn is coming to a head. Random attacks on Night Court soldiers, struggles with The Court of Nightmares all coupled with the fact I am supposed to remain a leader in these lands, a mother to my child and a wife to my mate... although Rhys understands and is under just as much pressure as me. I can't say a lot but that's the gist of it."

Your heart whooshed in your chest, the memories of all your missions to the aforementioned court buzzing in your head. "I understand. It must feel like too much at times."

"All the time more like... I sometimes forget that not too long ago I was hunting in the woods just to survive the winter as an illiterate nineteen-year-old." Feyre's words sounded so listless, so done that you wrapped your arms around her. "Sorry, I sound so 'pity me' you can tell me to shut up."

"No," You all but snapped at her. "Your feelings are valid, Feyre. You have tremendous responsibility that you have had to learn in a short amount of time. You're entitled to feel as stressed, scared, you name it as you want."

Feyre smiled warmly, "You are a great friend you know."

"I try to be. Is there any way I can help more? Help take the load off you? I can't exactly go back to being a spy with my body the way it is, but I'd like to feel useful."

"I'm not sure. I would have to discuss it with Rhys, but you may regret offering. We've been in over our heads for awhile now," Feyre mused.

Humming in response, you watched the water flowing over you both like a sheet and felt nervous flutters fly around your stomach at the prospect of work.

As promised, please click here to read the next part :)

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