When the Kingdoms Met the Courts

Chapter Four - Chocolate Cake and Wyverns

A/N The song is just something from one of my favourite composers at the moment. Idk I felt like sharing it. Also thanks to whoever has been reading! I know most of the reads are probably rare, but it makes me feel good that even just a few people are reading my story. Enjoy!

"Rhys, how long will we be staying?" Feyre asked, staring up into his silver-flecked, violet eyes. They were on the grand bed in the spare chambers Aelin let them stay in. She was curled up beside Rhys, her head resting on his chest. He was twining a strand of her golden-brown hair around his callused finger.

"I'm quite intrigued in this world. I am hoping to stay for a little while. Would you mind?" Rhys asked, staring into her grey-blue eyes.

"Oh, I'll be fine," she laughed, her canines glistening in the sunlight. She circled her finger around the centre of his chest, feeling the strong muscle underneath. "I'm sure it'll be an adventure. I am worried though, what if this is a trap?

"Don't think we haven't taken that into account," Rhys huffed under his breath, sitting up on the green and silver coloured, fluffy bed. The pillows they lay on were made of the finest goose feathers, Aelin had told them. The bed sheets felt like they were made of silk and the bed frames appeared to have been made from first-rate wood from the most exceptional redwood trees. The room itself was decorated with golden curtains, draping down the clear window. The walls were white, but covered in decorative paintings of stag horns. There was an exquisite dressing table made out of white wood with a spotless mirror. It was empty, not even a speck of dust was inside the drawers.

"Well, let's not worry about that for now," Feyre leaned over and lightly kissed Rhys on the cheek before tucking herself under the covers and letting sleep sweep her away.

"Dorian!" Manon yelled, stomping into the king's chambers. "Where the hell is my chocolate cake?"

"I thought you didn't like chocolate," he chuckled without raising his head from his tedious paperwork.

"Whatever," Manon averted her gaze, still showing signs of frustration.

"What's up?" Dorian asked, suddenly concerned. He noticed the distressed look on her face and was instantly worried. If Manon is worried, then you sure have reason to be as well.

"I don't know, I smelt something strange earlier. Like fae... but different. I went out to explore but I couldn't find the source. It's been messing me up all day."

"Explains why you wanted chocolate cake," Dorian grumbled and delved back into his paperwork. Whilst he was worried, it also turns out that ruling an empire isn't all just relaxing in a grand throne and exquisite food.

  "Whatever. I think I'll go investigate again. See you whenever," she dismissed him with a flick of her wrists.

   "Try not to rip anyone's heart out."

    Manon threw her saddle on top of Abraxos, her wyvern. When she strode into the stables, he was sleeping peacefully atop bales of hay. At first, he was against waking up, but with a flicker of her jaw and flick of the wrist, Manon's iron teeth and nails shot out. At that point, he darted awake, although he was still constantly yawning.
   Manon's silver-white hair swept in front of her face as a strong gust of wind whooshed past, causing her to have to constantly swipe at her face yo get rid of the hair. She looked in Abraxos's large eyes and gazed at her own reflection. Her golden eyes shone like the moon in the dark night sky, her hair as bright as the stars.
   She swung her legs over Abraxos and ordered him to fly. The wind messed up her sense of smell, which hindered her greatly.
   As she flew over Rifthold, she stared down at the citizens, milling around, doing whatever it was they needed to. She saw young children point up at her in awe and astonishment. As much as she wanted to go down there and show the children of Rifthold the wonders of her wyvern, she had a task to do and did not want to be distracted.
   The city of Rifthold itself looked grand. It was much different to when she first stepped a foot down in the city, when it was filled with cruelty and corruption. Now, the sun burns brightly and peoples smiles radiate brightly, along with the joyful singing and dancing that filled the streets.

   "Come on, Abraxos," she whispered to her wyvern, patting his grey scales, mottled with black, brown and green. He acknowledged her by huffing his approval and flew on towards where the strange smell was coming from.

   Nesta held Elain's small hand in hers, gripping it so hard she feared Elain would lose circulation. Elain stared into Nesta's grey-blue eyes with a combination of fear and nerves. Her hand shivered and she huddled up against Nesta, burrowing her head in the nook of Nesta's neck.

   "It's okay," Nesta patted the top of Elain's head, twining her golden-brown hair around her fingers. She braced herself, for there was a grey-scaled wyvern approaching rapidly. It soared through the air like a majestic eagle, except much more threatening and with iron talons. Nesta pulled Elain even closer to her, as if she could protect Elain from the beast.

   It landed in front of them. Nesta could've sworn she felt Elain's heart stop. Nesta did not show fear, or at least, tried not to. She stood up tall and held her chin high. Even with her fae senses, she could not determine was creature the woman was.

   The woman, Nesta thought, was beautiful. Stunning, gorgeous, anything else synonymous with those words. She had long, white hair, though she showed no signs of old age. From her fingers flicked razor-sharp claws, which looked like they could easily rip out someone's throat with a flick of the wrist. Her face was perfectly carved, with the features of a goddess, although her teeth didn't look so holy. A gleam of sunlight shined on her iron canines as she growled, advancing toward them with a predatory grace.

   "What are you? Fae?" She asked through barred teeth. "You look like them. You don't smell like them. You've had me craving chocolate cake all day." 

   "P-please," Elain whispered, huddling against Nesta. Her eyes were welling up with tears now, but she didn't let them fall.

   "Step away. We mean no harm, we are just as clueless as you," Elain attempted to say confidently, but her voice definitely trembled.

   "Pathetic fools," the woman muttered under her breath. "You expect me to buy such lies? I am not an imbecile. I have lived longer than a century, I do have some experience, you realise. Then again, you must too, being fae and all that."

   "Let us leave freely and we will be of no harm," Nesta pushed Elain behind her and clenched her fists. "I will not be afraid to fight."

   "Oh dear me," the woman said, picking at her nails. "It appears you have a death wish." A smirk tugged on the corners of the woman's mouth, showing off her iron teeth. "Do you think these are just decoration?" She asked, clanking her claw-like nails on her fangs.

   Nesta studied the woman, but realised it was futile. All she could do was fight, the golden-eyed beast didn't appear to have any intentions of backing down.

   "Most likely," Nesta hesitantly shrugged her shoulders. She averted her gaze to a nearby flowerbed.

   "You're wrong."

   The woman lunged, her claws aiming for Nesta's heart.

   "Aedion!" Lysandra yelled, beckoning him into their chambers. "What do you call this on the floor?" She asked, pointing towards a heap of dirty hunting gear.

   "Sorry mum," he groaned, crossing his toned arms over his chest. "Cleaning up wasn't the first thing on my mind when a group of unknown fae somehow stumbled across our lands."

   "The poor servants, always cleaning up our mess. I think we should have a day when the roles are switched, so you lot know what it's like being bossed around."

   "You too. Why would you be excused?" Aedion sighed, picking up his dirty laundry.

   "Because I spent about a decade being bossed around myself," there was a long moment of silence. All that could be heard was the rustle of leaves outside and the faint chirping of the birds.

   "I should go, I challenged the loud-mouthed one with the wings to a fight."

   "Rhys or Cassian?" She asked, looking like she was about to blow.

   "The one with hazel eyes. Anyway, I shall be off," He picked up the Sword of Orynth and departed the room with a hint of swagger in his steps.

   "Idiots. Fae males are all idiots," Lysandra mumbled under her breath and flopped back onto her bed, hoping that the day would be over soon.