Feyre/Rhys/Tam Fanficfion ACoTaR

Chapter 4

Rhysand shifted into my room at exactly quarter to six. It was well and good that I wasn't running late, for with his lack of notice he could have appeared while I was in the middle of undress. I took a second to think about that, before understanding that was quite probably his motivation. 

"So traditional," he tsked, as I smoothed down the front of my green dress and took his proffered arm. "I prefer women in less restricting garments." I snorted, not offended in the least. I thought the gown was lovely, with a lower cut and floor-length hem. It tapered from a tight bodice into smooth ruffles out to the side, and again—in favour of modesty—only hosted a slight sheen and silver embroidery. 

We exited out into the hallway outside my chamber, and the musty corridors brought back instant anxiety. The eye on my palm tingled. In an agile movement, Rhysand swung me around so that I was pressed against him, and placed my arms around his neck. The flickering of fire that I had felt briefly last night took hold again, except this time licking its way up my torso. I held back a gasp, as they traveled to my core. Rhysand pressed his lips to my ear and said roughly, 

"Hold on." Then we were disappearing from sight once again, like static; reappearing in an incredibly grand room, containing a massive table centered exactly in the middle. The chairs were empty, but it was fully set, filled with vases of inky roses and steamy platters of food. My stomach grumbled slightly, and I remembered I hadn't eaten lunch. Carefully, I extracted myself from Rhysand, trying to regain the composure I had lost when he had pulled me to him so suddenly. I walked to the closest end of the table. I went to seat myself, but some elusive servant pulled it out for me, and pushed it back in before I had a chance to. I glanced up, slightly flustered, and saw Rhysand sitting at the other end. It was quite incredibly silly and isolating how far away he was. How could one have a decent conversation like this? I wondered.   

"You're so far away," I said, gesturing to the expanse of table between us. "It's like you're in another room." The quarters of the table vanished, leaving Tamlin not two feet away, sitting at an infinitely more intimate table.

The memory hit me in the chest like shrapnel. My throat closed for a moment, and I went to reach for my wine.  Then I remembered what had happened the last time I had gone to drink from a glass. I paused, reflecting, before gently lowering my hand back down to the table. My sigh was quiet, but impossible to not notice in the silent room. And then just as suddenly Rhysand was there, sitting on my right. I yelped, jerking in my chair. His lips curved. 

"I thought a bit more intimacy would be desirable. Silly, having all those quarters of table between us." I looked hard at him, my stomach suddenly cold. Did he just read my mind? I knew he could distinguish thoughts from touching someone, but we surely hadn't been, and besides, a High Fae's mind is supposed to be much harder to unlock then a human's. As I looked suspiciously at him, he reached for his wine and drank. When he finished, droplets of red stood out on his full lower lip, looking like blood. His tongue snaked out and licked them away in a clean sweep. I swallowed. 

"I suppose," I answered non-commitedly. Rhysand's eyes narrowed, and he gestured to the food untouched on my plate. Right. Hunger. I dug in, and we ate in silence. Rhysand finished before me, and sat watching as I finished the rest of my dessert. Finally, I leaned back and groaned. Rhysand smirked, and I recalled our conversation yesterday morning. I flushed slightly. He pushed away from the table and pivoted until he was facing me, placing his elbows on his knees. His position pulled his tunic against his shoulders, accentuating his forearms and biceps. I assumed his new position signified a change in topic. 

"So," he said, drawing my attention back to his face. He wasn't smirking anymore, but sat looking at me with an expression of careful blankness. 

"So," I echoed. He made a generic gesture, as if to encompass the extreme amounts of space I possess.  I crossed my arms and glared at him. He sighed, irritably.