From the confines of a word doc filled with dozens of snippets that come from nowhere and go nowhere, behold. Set during ACOFAS. Word count: 3020
For Elain Archeron Week 2022. Day 7: Free Day - post whatever Elain positivity you’d like (@elainarcheronweek )
A soft knock got his attention, the door opening slowly after he told her to come in. Elain peeked through the gap, already dressed for the night in one of her many long-sleeved gowns.
“You missed lunch... and supper," she squinted at him. “You are quick to dismiss me when Feyre is not around.” She smiled at the end, letting him know she was jesting.
Rhys startled at her words, turning in his cushioned chair to see a timid new moon nestled within the other bright celestial bodies in the sky. "It's late, isn't it," he commented rubbing his tired eyes. The sun had barely risen when he kissed his mate good morning, hauling himself in the office.
Thirty minutes after leaving for morning class, Feyre sent him a message down the bond. One of her pupil’s mother was sick, and since the youngling had no other living relative who could look after him, the High Lady decided to accompany the boy home to look after his mother, see what she could do to nurse her back to health. Rhys sighted, cracking his neck to release the stiffness from the long hours of immobility. He hated burocratic work, but that wasn’t something one could avoid while being a High Lord. Without his wife home, Rhys lost track of time, his chaotic affairs in need of order making him also forget about the sister-in-law who might have been waiting for him during the meals.
“I’m sorry, Elain. I shouldn’t have left you by yourself.”
She waved a hand dismissively, telling him not to worry about it. Elain eyed the clutter of documents on top of his desk, the empty pots of ink, notebooks and pencils spread out, a whiff of expensive liquor and burnet cigarettes mingling with the sharp citrus scent in the air.
After living with them in the town house, and now having her own quarters in the opulent river house, Elain paid close attention to Rhysand. The first thing that caught her eye about her distinct brother-in-law was his devotion to her sister, the way he completely adored Feyre, the lengths he would go not only for her, but for the people she loved as well. The night wielding lord had measured no efforts to accommodate Feyre's remaining living family –despite the fact that he and Nesta could not expend more than two minutes in close proximity without snarling at each other.
Rhysand was a family man, his dedication to people expanding from his inner circle to the citizens of his beloved Starlight City, his efforts to keep his court stable making her admire him as a leader. Even the forsaken City of Nightmares, which Elain had heard the most outrageous stories about, was closely watched by him, the free reign subtly controlled in the shadows of his influence. Had Rhysand been human, he'd be a perfect king, his kingdom prosper and vivid, his subjects busy but content with the prosperity of the land. The more she watched him, the more she liked what she saw. Elain not only respected Rhys, she liked him as a brother, another beloved member of her new mismatched family of former humans, faes and otherly creatures.
"I didn't expect you to still be here," she commented as he pushed away from the cluttered desk. When Elain saw the faelight slipping from under the door, she assumed he had forgotten them on. "Are you hungry? Do you want me to heat you something?"
He shook his head as they exited the room together, smiling tenderly at her offer. It wasn’t unusual for Elain to knock on his door bringing him different snacks paired with strong coffee. Sometimes she would send a tray with his tea, a especial brew she created from scratch, designed to mitigate the pain on his knee. "You know you are not my kitchen maid, right?"
She shrugged. “I don't mind. I liked when people eat.” She liked to catalog their likes and dislikes, take mental notes of everyone’s preference, the ingredients that would made theirs eyes lit up.
“You must be thrilled around Cass.”
Elain giggled, agreeing quietly. Cassian could eat enough to feed a small army. She found extreme delight in the glint in his eyes every time he stumbled upon her testing new recipes, the burly general quickly finding a sit to lodge on, his other purposes forgotten, the rest of his day spent in her company, chatting amicably, inhaling the food faster than she could make it. Cassian had an especial appetite for salty pies and pork meat, needless to say Elain had two (or three) pies ready to go during family dinner.
They walked back to the kitchen, Rhys taking notice of the book under her arm. “What do you have there?” Elain turns the cover, permitting him to read the curvy silver letters spelling, The history of the night court Vol. 4. The Noble Houses. He eyed her with curiosity. "Dreadful choice of a bedtime story.”
Being born into wealth, and having the opportunity to enjoys its perks in her early years, Elain was versatile in everything that was to know about the delicate mechanics of human society. Now that she was fae, Elain made her personal mission to bridge the gaps in her knowledge, doing her best to understand the puzzle that was Prythian.
She tucked the book back, protectively. “I’m reading it to learn, not to sleep.”
“Noble houses, mmh. Are you cleaving any alliances I don’t know of, Elain?”
Elain ducked her head, tracing the spine. "I need to learn about this place."
“The so called “high-borns” have no privileges in Velaris. There’s only one requisite to be a part of my court.” To be a dreamer.
They reached the kitchen, Rhys going straight to the loaf of bread sitting on the counter, devouring a big chunk. Turns out he was pretty hungry.
"I noticed Velaris citizens don't care much for formalities. Still,” she left her book beside him, taking the food from the pots and back to the pans. “I know our society rules are different from yours, but from what I understand a High Lady is like a queen of her court, and here the High Lady is Feyre, my sister. Royalty. People talk, no matter how lax they seem, my behavior will reflect upon her, upon you, who so kindly accepted us here."
Rhys clicked his tongue. "Nonsense,"
"It isn't," she interrupted him, aware he was about to refute his generosity. "You had no obligation of accepting Nesta and I, housing and providing for us, but you did. I can see why Feyre loves this city so much, why she calls it a home, it has grown on me as well. I am grateful for what you did, what you still do, and the current way I can repay you is by being useful to this court, to your family."
Rhys was quiet for a moment, pensive.
“Don’t debase yourself." Her eyes darted to him, carefully gauging his mood. "Feyre is not the only one who's a part of this family. Read whatever you want Elain, I wouldn’t stand in the way of a female wanting to improve herself, but I hope you know that I expect no prim behavior from you. In my lands you can do whatever you want, act however you wish. It is why I protect this city, so dreamers can have the liberty to be themselves."
In that moment Rhys was nothing if not sincere, and for that Elain was grateful too. They engaged in light conversation as she heated the stew, adding a little more parsley to the broth. She knew he enjoyed the slightly bitter herb in his dishes. Elain cleaned her hands in a dishcloth, pushing a full plate in his direction.
“Can I ask you something?”
“How does your tax system support itself?” Rhys lifted an eyebrow. From all the subjects in the world he imagined she could ask about; taxes were not on the list. "I just don't understand it. Your citizens pay you a percentage of their annual profit, but the law permits them to be excused from payments upon previous accord with the High Lord. You have this incentive program to war refugees where they don’t pay any tribute during their first year in the city, and are allowed to apply for a benefice, which I assume is not coming from the town vaults, or else there would be nothing in it by now. Velaris is port city, but at the same time a closed city, a good income becomes impossible when there’s no trade. I imagine the other cities in the Court pay a tribute as well, probably with bigger percentages, yet you have expenses with protection and feeding of those citizens, so I don’t how you can funnel much to Velaris.”
Rhys stared at Elain as if he was seeing her for the first time. For a young lady appreciated by her beauty, Elain sure had interesting mind. He had never discussed court matters in front of her, let alone saw her as someone who would be interested in taxes and management. He set his fork down, unable to hide how impressed he was with her insights about Velaris “flaws” when she had only been living here for a year.
Being her father’s “little helper” made her pay more attention to her surroundings than anyone could expect. Getting the life she had planed for herself ripped from her hands, to be turned into an immortal, sharing her body with a strange being who gifted her with visions made her even more watchful.
“I have nothing but time.” She answered with a somber voice.
Rhys hummed, scooping the broth, happy to fill his stomach with warm food. Elain schooled her expression, taking a sit in front him, watching him eat, waiting for her answer. He let her stew on it, pretending all his focus was set on eating. She groaned at him.
“Tell me how Velaris is not broke.”
“You have impressive deductive skills, yet you forget an important detail.” She looked at him inquisitively. Rhys smirked. "I am a stupidly wealthy male.”
“You are a man–male– ruling a land of immortals, yet fortune does have an end.” She stumbled on the word, still not used to the new denominations she should use now, the thrill of the quest not allowing her to dwell on the fact Rhys was no more a man than she was a woman.
“You’re also forgetting about the Court of Nightmares,” he gave her a wicked smile, a faint hint of night creeping in the corners of the enormous kitchen. “To have the privilege of sinning, they pay me in gold. Many bars of it.” He went to the sink, washed his dish and placed it on the drying rack, founding himself interested in sharing with his curious sister-in-law. “Come with me.”
They returned to his office, where Rhys went straight to the bookshelf, selecting a brown notebook with nothing particular about is. He handed it to Elain who sat in the comfortable couch occupying a space in the room, Feyre’s portrait watching their sudden expedition. "They pay taxes twice a year, each family having a calculus made based on the capital amounted in the spam of six months. You were right about Velaris depending on trades. While Velaris was a secret, Hewn City was the official capital of Night Court, therefore the official trader with other cities and courts, despite most of the goods not coming from there.”
Elain flipped thought the pages, fascinated with the calculus and the amount paid by each family. “You’ve been using them for decades.” There was no judgment in her tone, only admiration by the clever system.
“Longer. This method was created by the first High Lord to rule Velaris. Hewn City has taxes over importation and exportation too, if they want anything in or out of that hel, they pay me. If they want to exist unde my starry night, they pay me."
Her brother-in-law let himself get comfortable on the other couch, a sadistic smile taking over his features. There was nothing of happy about that expression, only the sight of a predator explaining how he played with his pray. Elain averted her eyes, focusing back on the dates. "This is old.”
“You'll learn 80 years go by faster than you expect.”
Elain swallowed down, pretending to be ignorant to the meaning of his ominous words. She didn’t want to think about that today. She cleared there throat.
“This is very interesting. Do you have anything newer?” She asked him. “I think the calculus have a pattern, but I have to see another notebook to be sure.”
“I haven’t moved all the archives here yet.”
“When you do, can I see it?”
“Is that really how you want to spend your time?”
“Yes.” Her eyes shined under the faelight.
“It may take a while. I’m a little behind in the bookkeeping.” He admitted exhaling soundly, the predator gone as faster as he came, his commonly calm complexion presenting clear signs of exhaustion.
"Oh, not much, just... Fifty years or so." He gave her a charming smile and she choked on air. Fifty years was 'a little?' Mother above. In moments like this, Elain realized she still had a very human perception of time. In another life fifty years would be enough to see her grandchildren wandering about the house, now the same amount of time was nothing but a glimpse of imbalance in the finances. Rhys cocked his head, watching her intently. “You like accounting, right?”
“How do you feel about working for me?”
She lifted her eyebrow, suspicious. “Doing what?”
“Taking care of my finances, organizing the city’s affairs, and other similarly boring activities. I could use a brake from burocracy. In fact, please work for me. I hate this endless paperwork.” He added dramatically. “I’ll pay you accordingly.”
“You don’t need to employ me for that Rhys, I have plenty of time to spare. It would be my pleasure to help you.”
“I won’t having you working for free Elain.”
"You don't even know how much money you have left. For all I know, you can be approaching bankruptcy,” she jested trying to discourage him.
"I'm pretty sure I have enough to pay you."
"Rhys, there's no need for that."
“A good salary, housing and food is the minimum in an employment contract. If you need anything else, we can discuss and add on it.”
The man was too much, she already lived in his house, ate his food, and dressed with his money. Feyre often talked about how he was as carefree as he was stubborn, now Elain was learning her sister was not being theatrical. Reading the refusal in her face, he continued.
“I not saying that because it’s you Elain, those are benefits provided to all my staff. If you don’t believe me, ask your sister.” His mouth shaped into a mischievous smile, as if he was remembering some private joke she was not pry to.
Elain pondered his offer. There were only so many gardens for her to tend, her simple and careful instructions creating and small army of greenery lovers. As the months went by, her students learned to take care of their garden by themselves, and Elain was finding herself with a growing amount of free time again. She hated it. Rhys offer made her excited, not only she liked finances, but her days would be less dull with more responsibility, but the fact that he wanted to pay her was preposterous.
“I do want to get my hands on those notebooks…” she muttered.
“Then accept my offer.” He encouraged her.
Elain sat straighter, watching him intently, coaxing her bargaining skills to the surface in order to refuse the salary politely.
“How about this. I don’t need money now, there's nothing I lack for. The moment that changes, I’ll let you know, and you pay me. If you don’t… I can always embezzle." She winked.
Rhys gave her a big laugh and they shook on it.
Their conversation was interrupted by Feyre’s arrival, her tired eyes latching on her mate, quickly detecting the amusement waving from him. Rhys waited for her to greet Elain before bringing her to his lap, his hands possessively landing on her belly, which was beginning to swollen with their child. Their beautiful boy who he already loved more than life itself.
"How is Amala?" he asked, referring to the fae she was taking care of.
"Better. Her fever went down, I bought them food and told Rami to send for me if they need anything else." She looked between him and her sister. 'You are in a good mood for who's handling paperwork,' she sent down their bond, not wanting to disturb this new development.
Feyre was well aware her husband had regards about her sister. He found difficult to forgive them for the mistakes of their youth, his loyalty to his mate making him not care about anything but her difficult and suffering. For a while there, Feyre had strong feelings too, but that was in the past now. She knew Rhys had always struggled more with Nesta, her hot temper clashing with his own. Seeing him laughing so openly with Elain gave her hope that could change.
'We talked.' Rhys sent back.
'And?' she prodded curiously.
‘Her mind is rather curious.’ And then. ‘Elain is a good girl, she's a good company.’
Rhys’ heartfelt words lead Feyre to gift him with a bright smile as she snuggled on his lap, her happiness swiping through the bond, lighting him up. 'Is that so?'
'What kind of face is that?' He teased, 'is it for seeing me getting along with your sister?'
Feyre grinned. 'What if it is?'
'Really? That easy? How does that make you feel? Horny?'
'Feyre darling, you're the one getting horny in strange moments, don't turn this on me.'
She rolled her eyes and said out loud. "Do we still have food? I'm starving!"
"I bet you are." Rhys uttered with a smirk and she stomp on his foot, latching onto Elain and taking her away from the room, Rhys following on her heels. Elain went closer, cupping her ear to whisper "If you think we can't tell when you two are flirting in public... We can!" Feyre laughed.
Feyre had faith in her mate. One day he would be able to tease and smile around both her sisters. Until them she would take all the victories, like this one, and collect them like beautiful medal.
A painting flashed in her mind, her sisters, her mate, his brothers, her son, their grand small family laughing and loving and living, their happiness as bright as the field they sat upon. Yes, she would have that, she would have that and more.
