Heal me

17

You were determined. Right that night after Lucien's visit, you looked up Rhys' office again. Inside you felt cold and empty, somehow disconnected as you knocked on the door. The answer came immediately. Being it other day you would laugh because it seemed as if Rhys lived in his office. When you needed you always found him there. But today wasn't the day.

You peeked in finding him seated behind his desk covered with different documents. At first he didn't pay you any attention, too busy with whatever he was reading. He was frowning at the paper in his hand, the other one played with the pen. You knew what this gesture meant. Something worried him. Or pissed him off. When he was younger he unconsciously played with different objects all the time. The habit almost disappeared as he grew older.

"May I?" Hearing your voice he jerked up and finally looked up from the papers. He blinked as if he didn't hear you come in.

"Y/N? Yeah.. Yeah, sure," Rhys stood up, offering you a seat. He checked the time "Something happened? It's quite late."

Yes, you wanted to shout at him, but you wouldn't do so. A lot of things had happened, the conversation between him and Lucien that you overheard, was one of them. But you already made up your mind. You wouldn't mention Tamlin. He would refuse you as he refused Lucien. Your brother was too stubborn. You came to ask him for the last favour, for the last piece of puzzle. It was strange and hard to explain, but you knew you needed it. At last you were ready.

Your face had to give you away because his jaw tightened and he crossed hands on the chest. His piercing gaze scanned you, his shoulders tensed. Words weren't necessary, he understood.

"It.. it won't be easy," Rhysand spoke slowly. "I won't be able to take out one memory at a time. They are too tangled up. I'll have to break the barrier. The process can be quite unpleasant, maybe even painful and the memories will all come at once. It might be very traumatic experience."

He was trying to warn you, prepare you for inevitable. Of course he was worried for your wellbeing and how it could hurt you, yet he was impatient, too. Since you came he kept asking about that particular night, never really pressuring you about it. However Rhysand eagerly waited for this moment.

Straightening your back you stuck out your chin. Your gaze didn't falter. "I know." You were ready. You'd spent all afternoon preparing for the worst.

Rhysand curled his lip, thinking. "Fine," he spoke after a moment. "But there is one thing I want from you."

"What is it?"

"I want to see it. All. From the start to the end. Everything you remember, not just some glimpses."

You frowned. "Why?"

He pushed off of the desk that he was leaning against and turning away from you headed to the window where lights of the city on the other bank of Sidra shone. He was silent. Minutes passed. You waited.

"I-.. I need to know what he caused."

You swallowed watching his back. You shivered with cold even though the room was warm. "He?"

Rhysand slowly turned back to you, looking straight in your eyes. "Tamlin." His voice wasn't more than a whisper, but it was so harsh, so full of rage you winced as if he slapped you.

"What does he have to do with it?" Your voice was hoarse. Lump grew in your throat and breathing once again became laboured.

"He was the one who told his father where you would be."

"Why would he do that? And how could he know anyway?"

"At that time we were still friends. He knew it because I told him. It'd never occurred to me that something like that could happen."