#hrtc

[sanewshimachal]

जिला मंडी के सरकाघाट गोभरता बस समसौह पंचायत के गांव हवाणी में दुर्घटनाग्रस्त हो गई, हादसे में घायल हुए सवारियों को उपचार के लिए सरकाघाट अस्पताल लाया गया है l

[starfall-spirit]

Heavy Rests The Crown

HRTC Masterlist

Summary: Respectively ruling land and sea, the newly appointed High Lord and young merqueen find themselves pressured to marry. Their solution-a union their advisors would never approve of. Not that they can do a thing about it now.

Word Count: 1,764

Chapter II: So, She Wants to Marry Her Mate

Rhys

She didn’t feel it. How the fuck did she not feel it? It wasn’t like she was a human. Did the merfolk and fae mate? Water wraiths, possibly, but not high fae. Not even a half-breed. But it was, quite obviously, a possibility. The second he laid eyes on her that evening he suspected the bond. The second he took her hand he knew for certain. And the young queen hadn’t felt so much as a tingle, let alone that cord of gold. Unless she was just that good at hiding her emotions.

Alone on the house’ balcony, he could help but give that cord a little tug, summoning the female from his circle of friends. She glided up to the balcony, slowly swirling the red wine left in her glass. “Is that a little High Lord trick or something else?”

He chuckled. “I do like to keep an air of mystery, Feyre darling.” Her eyebrow quirked at the endearment, but she didn’t scold him for it. She merely waited for him to explain why he requested her presence. “I apologize for dragging you away from everyone. I was just hoping to get to know you better.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve barely seen you in passing until tonight, yet you seem to spend a lot of time here. Now that I’m home, I want to know who all is involved with my family.” She nodded, biting her lip a bit awkwardly. “I’m sorry. With everyone around I didn’t know how to say it, but… I am so, so sorry to hear what happened to your family.” 

He couldn’t help but tense slightly as she rested a hand on his arm, her lilac and pear scent flooding his senses. “Thank you, Feyre. They’d mention you every time I did come home, you know. Avy saw you like the sister she never had.”

“She was easier to get along with than my own at times."

Rhys hummed. “I’m not certain we’re still talking about the same princess."

She snorted, leaning her hip against the balcony railing. “A thought for a thought, Feyre darling?”

Her soft smile fell. “I’m thinking…” Her hand fell from his arm, dipping into that pocket where her crown rested since she left the river. “I’m thinking I don’t know how to do these things they expect of me. It’s been a long time since illness killed a mer ruler and—and even Nesta is too young to deal with this. I have—” 

She stopped, straightening herself in an instant. How many people had already told her not to show vulnerability around another leader? “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” she feigned, her tone a bit too sharp.

“Don’t start locking away what matters to wear a mask of strength.”

“You don’t know what your talking about.”

“Feyre—”

“There was an envoy sent to the surface this morning to bring the shipment routes to your attention. I know how important trade is above land, but the larger ships coming in over the areas damaged by—”

“Feyre.” 

She huffed a bit. “You haven’t been at this any longer than I have, so don’t tell me you know best. I’m trying—” 

“You’re trying to drive yourself straight into the ground.” 

She sucked in a sharp breath as his fingers curled around her wrist, his thumb just brushing her pulse point. When she drew that arm to her chest the movement lacked the certainty she seemed to possess before then. Oh, she felt something alright. “With all due respect, High Lord, I don’t think you know me well enough to decide what will drive me down.”

She turned to leave. “Forgive me.” She paused. “I’m only seventy-five, but I’ve already seen too many females ruined by politics.”

Her blue eyes flared with her temper again and he realized where his phrasing had put them. “How dare—”

“I do not insinuate you are incapable of leading,” he interrupted, undeniably backpedaling. “I warn you not to let yourself be off-kilter with your rising tasks. It would be a shame to see that vulnerability abused. To see you tread over by a male and his expectations in matrimony. Do not let someone make of you what traditionalists tried to make of my cousin and every female in her line before that.”

She was slightly flushed, caught somewhere between insulted, angry, and flat out affronted I’d be so bold in speaking of the fate her advisors may come to demand. After calming, she seemed merely perplexed. “Let’s just say, as long as your waters touch my land I want to be doing business with someone who uses the brain inside her head. Not whoever’s deemed your suitable match.”

He pushed down the feelings that reared up at the thought of her selecting another consort.

She settled back into her spot beside me. “Do your governors demand the same thing, Rhys? A pretty doll of a wife rather than your mate?”

Slowly—achingly slowly, her words registered, tumbling in his head five different ways. Their little fairy tale ending hadn’t snapped on her side, but she wanted it desperately. “It’s been suggested,” he admitted. “A marriage would be uplifting in a time of mourning, for Velaris and the other cities surrounding it. Honestly, I’ve been too preoccupied working against wing-clippings and the nonsense my father encouraged in the Hewn City to humor taking a wife. I too would prefer a bond to a wedding,” he confessed.

Before she could say her piece, Cassian stepped out onto the balcony, swaying slightly. “I’m headed out. Feyre, did you want me to fly you back to the docks?”

She bit her lip, nervous at the sight of him. “Cassian, are you even in any state to fly yourself home?”

“No, he isn’t and we don’t need any unnecessary damages, to people or property,” Rhys answered for his brother. “Take your room here for the night. I’ll get Feyre home.”

“Fine. Goodnight, you  two.” He leaned down to kiss Feyre’s cheek and a possessive snarl ripped out of Rhys, making them both freeze and causing Cassian to retreat, hands raised in surrender, even as a grin spread over his face. 

“I—Fuck.” This was not how he wanted Feyre to piece everything together. He told himself he’d be better than other males he’d seen when his time with his mate came, but it seemed he was no different. One more look to his brother and the smug Illyrian excused himself, no doubt going to crow to the rest of the family what had just happened.

“Feyre—”

“I’d really rather not have this conversation around such a nosy group, Rhys.”

He nodded stiffly. He trusted his family with his life and shared next to everything with them. Even if they all knew and loved Feyre already, this was… complicated. He was mated to a female incapable of surviving longterm on land. Without some rather tricky enchantments, breathing underwater is impossible for anyone other than water wraiths and mer. But he would make it work.

As long as she agreed. 

If she wanted this, they would make it work. “I know you aren’t a fan of flying, but I need to get you out of the ward radius before we can winnow down to the street. Or the townhouse if you’d prefer a quiet place to talk.”

“I think so,” she murmured, stepping closer as he stretched his wings. "I think the townhouse would be best, I mean.”

“Okay.” She braced quivering hands on his shoulders and he took that as permission to sweep her off the ground, launching into the air. As promised, he only took as long as it took to pass the wards before sweeping them into shadows and setting down in the townhouse. “So?” he ventured, settling into a chair built to accommodate his wings.

“So, Rhysand, I need to know this will be worth it.” 

He tensed. “Worth it?”

“You and your brothers have made yourselves a reputation. Even beneath the waves we hear such things.”

He clenched his jaw. “You think I’d be unfaithful to my mate?”

“I don’t know a thing about you, beyond common facts and gossip. And no matter how much I want a mate, I first want someone I know and trust.” 

He should have expected his boyhood fun to fall back on him. Hell, he’d bet good gold at least one of his brothers was straying from his own bed tonight, half-drunk or not. Slowly, he stood again, approaching Feyre. “From this day forward I will be true to you and only you. No matter the trials and complications. I swear it on my life.”

“Before Cassian came over… Before I realized…”

“I’m not so backwards in my thinking as some. You are not a possession. If you chose to walk away even now, I wouldn’t take that choice from you. If you’d prefer a husband of your own kind, I understand.”

“I won’t reject the bond over something so discriminatory.”

Relief flooded him. Despite the casual interaction between the merfolk and fae, he knew very little about mer laws and what precisely could be demanded of her marriage. While some would undoubtedly be skeptical of their union, no faerie was stupid enough to contradict a mating bond. When they were mated—their scents bound—there would be no push back. 

He took a step closer, reaching to trail a knuckle down the side of her face, tracing what remained of her silvery scales there. “Take the time to get to know me, Feyre. Then we’ll look at marriage and mating.” Her blush told him she had yet to consider the frenzy, no matter how well known it may be. 

“I’m five months from my next birthday,” she murmured.

“You’ll fall for me in three.”

“You’re too confident for your own good.”

He chuckled. “I realize you can’t stay on land for more than a few days.”

She shook her head slightly, starting to lean into his touch, much to his delight. “Not to mention my daily duties. I am a queen, you know.”

“In the evenings you’re available, allow me the time to court you on the surface. There are guest rooms here and in the Moonstone Palace. Of course you’re always welcome to my bed—” She swatted his shoulder. “Our courtship period will protect us from other arrangements, so long as there’s proof of it.”

“Alright. Five months of nightly courtship, Rhys.”

“It’s a deal, then.” 

She cursed him soundly as dark ink scrolled over her arm. Not that much could be done about it now.

~~~~~

Tag List: Reach out to be added or removed.

@shallyne // @s-uppertime // @the-lonelybarricade // @faeriequeensuriel // @reverie-tales // @pandavelaris // @goddess-aelin // @acourtofwips // @jealousveronya

[shallyne]

So about that comment you made about Rhys eating fish in front of Feyre...

Snippet?

~~~~~

Like any other day, her scent announced her arrival before here arms wrapped over his shoulders. Rhys set down his fork, tilting his head back to kiss his mate’s cheek. “You took your time, my love."

Releasing his shoulders, Feyre turned to face him, perching on the table with an expression that told him she was not pleased. The question was if she needed him to lend an ear to her troubles or if he should be running for the hills because he was in trouble. “Rhysand.”

The full name. So he was in trouble. “Yes, darling?”

She pursed her lips. “Are you eating fish right now?”

“Of course. Many citizens find their living along the Sidra and sea. Why shouldn’t I—Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I—Wait, don’t you eat fish? I though merfolk were at least towards the top of the marine food chain.”

“Some do. I don’t care to unless there’s absolutely nothing else.” She glared as he picked up his fork again. “Rhysand!”

“I’m sorry. I was teasing that time.” Two plates of roasted chicken and rice appeared. “Better, darling?”

“Better.”

~~~~~

This may or may not end up in the fic, but here's a draft to not take seriously.

I AM FERAL FOR THIS

Their chemistry, omg. *Chefs kiss*

Please take all my love, I love your brain. Thank you

[starfall-spirit]

Be Still My Beating Heart Snippet

“You’re encouraging this?”

Elain sighed, turning on her elder sister. “I do not think going to the surface is the all the trouble you make it, Nesta. Feyre will be High Lady—”

“Feyre, in all her magnificence, is still half-wild and madly in love with a faerie of all things. You know better. You know our place in this world, Elain. Or at least I thought you did.”

“My place and yours are still quite undecided.”

As Feyre’s sisters, their duty was lend their ear and grant their own advice to her where her standard council didn’t have the authority to. But Feyre was doing well enough on her own, unsurprisingly. And she’d sooner seek council from her new love than her sisters. It served them all right, she supposed. Perhaps if they had grown together, rather than let their father divide them into their royal duties, they might be more keen to give and seek an opinion from one another.

But the three of them hadn’t been that close since girlhood.

"Ignoring Feyre’s invitation won’t do anything but divide us further. She’s getting married. Mating that male, whether we attend or not. The least we can do is meet him. No better time than one of their most important holidays.”

Feyre had seemed rather torn, choosing where to spend her birthday evening, but after asking Elain and Nesta if they would come above to mingle, her hope had been so obvious that even Nesta hadn’t the heart to instantly deny the request. “I—”

“Ready?” Nesta stiffened as Feyre rejoined them. “Nesta, are you alright?”

“Yes. But I won’t be joining you this evening. Happy birthday, Feyre.”

Elain could read her sister’s disappointment easily enough, but neither of them said another word on the matter. She took Feyre’s hand. “I’m ready.”

~~~~~

Teaser for those interested in the sequel.

[starfall-spirit]

For those of you wondering what state Rhys is in at the moment…

I have more than this written in my Scrivener, I swear. I just want you to have this hint.

[starfall-spirit]

Heavy Rests The Crown Masterlist

Read on AO3

Chapter I: Queenly Duties

Chapter II: So, She Wants to Marry Her Mate

Chapter III: Coming Soon Heading moodboard by me, but check out these others created by @jealousveronya

Moodboard 1

Moodboard 2

[starfall-spirit]

OMG I'm writing Feysand's first date in HRTC and this boy is so soft already.

FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

[starfall-spirit]

Can you already give a snippet of HRTC?

Hello friend!

I'll grant you the first few paragraphs of the fic.

~~~~~

Feyre knew her tension was obvious as she stepped into the council chamber where her head advisor waited for her. “Your Majesty.” Though she no longer wanted to flinch at the title—though the crown she wore felt marginally lighter—she despised the title her oldest sister was meant to inherit.

While faerie monarchs passed their title to their most powerful heir, as long as anyone could remember the power of the mer king or queen had always passed to the eldest child. And Feyre was the youngest. Untrained, compared to Nesta. Even compared to Elain.

No, Feyre hadn’t so much as thought of the queenship. Not when she was the graceless wild child. No one could tell her why she had been selected as the next monarch when Nesta was the oldest—the one somewhat prepared to do this.

So the queenly crash course began.

She met the eyes of the male who had summoned her. “You called for me.”