The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman

The Tree Ficlet

Considering that my life has been threatened should I disobey, I am obliged to write this ficlet.
Ficlet is  fantastic word, but what my friend Darcy demanded (in a LOT of detail) was far from fantastic. I hope it doesn't traumatise you.
This, to put it bluntly, this is horrific. But she asked me to do it and told me exactly what she wanted.
It doesn't follow my story, it's completely separate, but obviously still in the ACOTAR world. I kept it here so I you guys wouldn't have to hunt for it once you new it existed.
The attached video inspired the ficlet (great word) and I couldn't stop laughing.

~ Rhys' POV ~

"Oh, come on Rhys, that's not an actual word!" She yells at me. I smirk at the annoyed Fae sitting opposite me. Feyre is looking mighty fine today - OMG did I actually just think that? We're playing Scrabble in Feyre's room, a game that I am winning due to her limited vocabulary. Her list of curses is quite extensive though- a gift she then demonstrates colourfully. I snigger and retort smugly-
"Well you wouldn't really know if it was a real word anyway, would you?" She leans over and hits me pretty hard on my arm. She knows I'm joking though, over the past year, Feyre and I have become good friends.

"Wow, it's late. I better put my pj's on." She tells me, hopping up and walking into her closet.
"Well I guess I'll put the Scrabble away." I say to myself. I glance up at the room Feyre has just walked into- and realise she hasn't shut he door properly. I can't help it, my fantastic eyesight won't allow me to ignore her movements and she pulls off her tunic, exposing her perfect pale back to me.

Woah bro, looking even mightier finer. But no, I am a gentleman, I cannot be a pervert. I'll just remove myself from the situation. I get up and hastily leave the room.

Twenty minutes later, I find myself upon the edge of a precipice. I swing my legs off the edge, hammering my feet against the cliff below me to dispel the intense emotions rushing through me. I contemplate my weeks with Feyre. At first she seemed so intent on making an enemy of me, but once she understood that I had no cruel intentions towards her, her fury sort of... settled.

It wasn't long before I began to feel the irresistible pull of attraction towards her. Her beauty was undeniable, but it was her ability to understand me like no one else that ensnared me. We were both so broken after the events Under The Mountain and I like to think that maybe we pieced each other back together.

I want to be with her but I don't know if she feels the same. She enjoys our daily Scrabble games, but I'm just not sure if she'd want them, want me, forever. Tamlin and her had grown apart but I didn't know if she was ready to leave all she'd fought for Under The Mountain.

Unable to control my thoughts and feelings, I jump off the cliff. Spreading my wings behind me, I soar into the starlit sky of Night. I try to battle my thoughts, but all I knew at that moment was that even the beauty of the Night's sky couldn't compare to the beauty of Feyre's soul.

I attempt to make my way back to the palace. I regret leaving her all alone, without any reason for my swift departure. Knowing her, she'll jump the conclusion I've been kidnapped by rogue Fae. But my thoughts were the only thing roaming wild, and I simply couldn't concentrate.

That's my only excuse for crashing into a tree.

Then I'm falling, falling, falling until I hit the ground beside the tree in the middle of the forest. The trees are dense and think around me, but not enough so to block out the stars I catch winking above me. I stare upwards, dazed, and try to orient myself on which way it will be to return to the palace. To Feyre.

Like she was summoned by the whispers of the trees around us, Feyre's face appears above me, in my line of vision. Am I delusional?
"RHYSAND!" She screams, panic in her eyes. I try my hardest to focus on her stunning blue eyes, to no avail. "RHYS, Rhys, Bae! Please speak to me! Are you okay?!"

Clearly delusional then. Never in conscious thought would I expect to see the emotions writhing behind her eyes match my own feelings. Then I sense something moving quickly towards us, and I use the last of my strength to reach up and catch the falling apple before it hits Feyre on the head. I hold it out to her- an offering. The last thing I saw was Feyre's eyes shining with unshed tears before everything went black.

When I awake, I start by opening my eyes groggily and trying to gather my senses. I pathetically lift my head and recognise where I am. OMG, it's Feyre's room! I use all my effort to shuffle myself against the headboard until I'm in a relatively comfortable sitting position. Although something feels off...

It's then that I see Feyre sitting solemnly, knees curled up to her chest, in a chair next to my bed. She's clutching the Scrabble box against her like a teddy bear. It's adorable.
"Hey, Bae." Slips out of my mouth before my mind can register the meaning of the word. Her face mouth slightly twitches to one side and I hurry to cover my tracks. "I meant Fae, obviously. Don't judge me. Hey, Fae." Wow Rhys, smooth. She still doesn't react, so hopefully she put it down to a concussion, or something, from the sky-fall and not my undying love for her. Hopefully.

Without saying a word, Feyre uncurls herself from the chair and sets the Scrabble board on it. She then moves to the foot of her bed- I never thought I'd be under the covers in this kind of situation- and perches on the edge of it. I feel self conscious under her scrutiny and realise that I'm shirtless. Did she take my shirt off? Am I wearing pants?

The second question, I did not know, as the blankets covered my lower half. I sweep my lose hair out of my face and Feyre climbs further onto the bed until she's hovering above me. I gulp nervously. What was she doing?

She lays one of her soft hands against my cheekbone and my heart starts to beat faster.
"God, Rhys. I trust you and all, but please never scare me like that again." Her words are breathy, yet serious, and she still hasn't made eye contact with me. Slowly, she moves one of her hands down my chest until it stops at the edge of the blanket.

"Feyre," I say, my voice rough and sexy. "I cannot feel my legs."

"Yeah Rhys." She says softly. I think she's afraid of my reaction. I'm understanding now why she has been so hesitant. "I don't know how to tell you this, but," her lip quivers, "you landed awkwardly on a twig. It impaled your spine. You'll never walk again."

Realisation and the enormity of the situation slams down upon me like a tree. I feel myself shattering. No lords would ever take me seriously; I'll never walk; dance; have children. But most importantly, Feyre would never chose me.

Then Feyre sniggers. I feel myself flush in anger and pain at her reaction.
"How can you laugh at a time like this?" I ask, betrayal sitting heavily in my stomach. Feyre looks into my eyes for the first time, her blue ones shining in mirth.
"Lol, jokes, just the morphine. Chill Rhys, what a drama Queen. It'll wear off in a couple hours."

I'm so so sorry for putting you through that. I do find it incredibly funny, don't get me wrong, but you probably wanted an actual update instead. I'll try and get a really good update up tomorrow to make it up to you guys.