𝙰 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜: 𝚂𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝙴𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔦𝔵(𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 38-39)

i am not comfortable with the whole forcing her to dance thingy, i feel like it was truly unnecessary. therefore, it will not happen.

   ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

     The guards shoved me into a massive, dark bedroom, lit only by a few candles, and pointed to the looming fireplace.

"Servant spilled lentils in the ash," one of the guards grunted, tossing me a wooden bucket. "Clean it up before the occupant returns, or she'll peel off your skin in strips."

      A slammed door, the click of a lock, and I was alone.

      Sorting lentils from ash and embers--ridiculous, wasteful, and--I approached the darkened fireplace and cringed.

      Impossible.

      I cast a glance about the bedroom. No windows, no exits save the one I'd just been chucked through.

      The bed was enormous and neatly made, its black sheets of--of silk. There was nothing else in the room beyond basic furniture; not even discarded clothes or books or weapons. As if its occupant never slept here.

      I knelt before the fireplace and calmed my breathing. I had keen eyes, I reminded myself. I could spot rabbits hiding in the underbrush and track most things that wanted to remain unseen. Spotting the lentils couldnt be that hard.

     Sighing, I crawled farther into the fireplace and began. I was wrong.

     Two hours later, my eyes were burning and aching, and even though I combed through every inch of that fireplace, there were always more lentils, more and more that I'd somehow not spotted.

     The guards had never said when the owner of this room would return, and so every tick of the clock on the mantel became a death knell, every footstep outside the door causing me to reach for the iron poker leaning against the hearth wall.

     Amaros had never said anything about not fighting back--never specified that I wasn't allowed to defend myself. At least I'd go down swinging.

      I picked through the ashes again and again. My hands were now black and stained, my clothes covered in soot. Surely there couldn't be any more; surely--

      The lock clicked, and I lunged for the poker as I shot to my feet, my back to the hearth and the iron rod hidden behind me.

      Darkness entered the room, guttering the candles with a snow-kissed breeze. I gripped the poker harder, pressing against the stone of the fireplace, even as that darkness settled on the bed and took a familiar form.

"As wonderful as it is to see you, Feyre, darling," Rhysand said, sprawled on the bed, her head propped up by a hand, "do I want to know why you're digging through my fireplace?"

       I bent my knees slightly, preparing to run, to duck, to do anything to get to the door that felt far, far away.

"They said I had to clean out lentils from the ashes, or you'd rip off my skin."

"Did they now." A feline smile.

"Do I have you to thank for this idea?" I hissed.

       She wasn't allowed to kill me, not with my bargain with Amaranthos, but there were other ways to hurt me.

"Oh, no," she drawled. "No one's learned of our little bargain yet--and you've managed to keep it quiet. Shame riding you a bit hard?"

       I clenched my jaw and pointed to the fireplace with one hand, still keeping the poker tucked behind me.