"Her wings are made of starlight."
In which a mortal girl and an immortal Illyrian
are gifted neighboring cells Under The Mountain
and change each other's lives forever.
𝑨𝑪𝑶𝑻𝑨𝑹 -
...
𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. chapter five; The Answer Is Love " She's not a monster. "
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SHE WAS READY. Nixie didn't know when or why she decided, and why for a mortal girl she hardly knew, but she was ready.
Nixie blamed it on her belief in destiny. That this was the exact reason their lives were tied together with a golden ribbon of fate; because this was the way, the only way.
The only way to save all those trapped souls, to begin the mending of Prythian— it was the only way to save Rhysand.
She heard Amarantha's rambles, but her own heartbeat overtook this. Nixie couldn't focus, she couldn't listen, because even if she was ready, she was scared.
Nixie breathed deeply as she was shoved into the light, nervously shifting her eyes over the three hooded faeries lined up in front of Feyre.
She calmed her heart as she was forced onto her knees, a pair of chains keeping her on the ground.
"Or," Amarantha's voice crept out, a smirk forming on her face, "You can take this creature's wings."
"You said if I complete your trials, she'll live, not that—!"
"It will not kill her," Amarantha cut off Feyre with a laugh, "If you don't wish to do so, kill the other three, truly, be my guest. But you'll be taking three innocent lives, or stealing the wings of a revolting creature. You must choose."
Feyre couldn't. She wouldn't. She refused to choose the lesser of two evils.
Until she met Nixie's calm eyes.
"You have to put yourself first, Feyre," Nixie whispered, "You have to take my wings."
Now, if the roles were reversed, Nixie admittedly wouldn't hesitate to take three lives to save thousands. But, after a brief conversation with Rhys and Nixie's personal experiences with Feyre, however short they might've been, it was clear that Feyre's heart could not handle this.
And Nixie wasn't so cruel that she wished for Feyre to be a simple tool, discarded after she saved them.
"I won't."
"Feyre," Nixie gritted, "I don't even know if I'll ever fly again, just take them!"
But Feyre could see the emotion flash behind that attempted stony expression— she knew, somehow, taking Nixie's wings was nearly the same thing as taking her life.
She couldn't do that.
Something about Nixie kept her slightly sane throughout her imprisonment. The Illyrian fueled her curiosity, gave her something to think about, something to want-- and above all, Nixie had given her comfort. Without a price, without sneaking around, without any rules.
