#rhysand xreader

[danikamariewrites]

Our Queen

Feysand x reader

Just like Feyre picked her crown, you get to pick yours. Though you cannot imagine being Rhys and Feyre’s true equal. 

warnings: none

note: there are so many places I would kill to explore in the acotar world and the House of Wind and everything it hides is one of them. I feel like describing the room where the crowns are kept is so hard because I have such a specific image in my head but it's not complete. I need SJM to write 20 pages about it and all the jewels with pictures included

You grip the barley there stone railing while Feyre and Rhys lead you down the narrow stone steps. Feyre’s fingers entwined with yours as you venture to a part of the House you never even knew existed. You’re sure you could live here for a thousand years and never know every room in the House of Wind. 

Finally Rhys takes you down a hallway to a giant obsidian door. Resting his hand against the door letting some of his power out it unlocked swinging inward. You gasp at the dark stone shelves adorned with jewels resting on midnight blue cushions. Each one sparkling in the glow emitted from every inch of the walls. “Wow,” you gasp, awestruck by the beauty of them. 

“That’s not even the best part.” Feyre whispers in your ear. What more could there possibly be. 

Stepping into the room further was a wall with alcoves that eerily reminded you of a skulls resting place in catacombs. But there weren't any skulls down here. Quite the opposite. 

In the incandescent purple-blue light, tucked away in these alcoves were crowns of Night. You don’t know where to look first! Each of them is beautiful in their own way. All beautifully handcrafted with gems scattered across bands and points and stars and little crescent moons. 

Rhys rests his hands on your hips watching as you stare at the crowns in awe. “Which one do you like the most?” 

“I don’t know. I feel like I could stare at them forever and not know.” 

“I didn’t know either,” Feyre says. “Then it felt like one of them just called to me.”

You scrunch your brow in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“When I picked my crown.” She says. A fondness creeping over Feyre’s face as she keeps the memory of that night to herself. “Now it’s your turn.” 

Your stomach and heart drop at the same time. “But I’m not a High Lady nor do I have a title that would justify me wearing a crown this extravagant.” Your voice shakes as you look back at the wall of crowns. Is this some kind of cruel joke? To show you something you’ll never have? 

Rhys cups your face in his hands forcing you to look at him. “Never.” He says in that stern High Lord’s voice. “You are our mate. Our equal in every sense of the word. To think you are not worthy of a title or that you wouldn’t have one at all is utter nonsense.” 

“We are both High Lady’s, y/n. Anything less for you would be unacceptable.” 

Tears start to well in your eyes. “But…what if I don’t want to be? Or what if I am and I lead us down the wrong path and–” Rhys shushes you by softly pressing his lips to yours. “Nonsense.” He says. You look back at the sparkling crowns. 

Your mates each wrap an arm around your waist, holding you between them. Your eyes dart from crown to crown taking in all the details. Already feeling the weight of the responsibility of your new title you take a breath. “I want to think about it for a while.” 

“Take all the time you need y/n.” Rhys hums. 

“You can still pick one if you want,” Feyre says with a smirk. “We can never say no to spoiling you.” 

You push up on the balls of your feet, thinking which one called to you. After a long moment one crown seemed to shine brighter than all the others. It’s diamonds swooping up from the band to a sapphire in the center of the point. Feyre notices which one your gaze lingers on grabbing from its little alcove to rest it on your head. 

Your mates look at you with bright adoring gazes. “You look beautiful y/n.” Rhys whispers. Tears line his eyes and a pulse of love comes down the bond right to your heart.