Throne of Glass and ACOTAR Crossover (complete)

Chapter 13 - Feyre

People are running, screaming. The men in front of me came here ill prepared to fight magic, so the fire is driving them mad. Most have dropped their weapons. Some have even fallen to their knees, begging me to call off my flames and let them live. Some still have arrows pointed at my chest, bows held in trembling hands. 

"Call off the flames and face your punishment!" My father screams. 

Little do they all know that it isn't my fire to call off. I can sense my family and the newcomers hovering at the edge of the clearing. I can feel Rhys trying desperately to get me to let him into my head, to talk to me. But I'm ignoring them. They should go. They should leave me to the justice of the people I have wronged. Because what they will never accept is that I deserve this.

Suddenly the flames are gone, leaving nothing but blackened smoking ground in their place. There are some villagers who remain on the ground, hands covering their heads, but most are standing up, and raising their weapons to me. 

And I won't fight back. Let them kill me, let it end. Faced with the judgement in my father's eyes I see before my eyes all the things I had started to forget. I see the blood running through my fingers as I shove a blade into those Fae hearts. I see the dead of Velaris, as the rainbow burns. I see Elain's face as her head is forced beneath the cauldron's surface. And it was all my fault. 

My father raises his bow, and I close my eyes. It's done. Let it end.

But a voice sounds from the far edge of the clearing, from where I can sense my family. "What do you think you're doing?"

Rhys is roaring, his voice filling the entire clearing. Several villagers actually clap their hands over their ears. My father doesn't even look around. "I'm killing the bitch responsible for my family's destruction." he says, calm as a lake in the morning. 

Suddenly Rhys is in front of me. "Then you've got the wrong target." he says. 

My father's face contorts in fury. "Who are you to question our right to justice? Who are you to get between a father and his disobedient daughter? Who are you to protect a murderess, a bitch, a Fae?"

Rhys snorts and pulls back his hood. "I am Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court. And she is no longer your daughter, nor your citizen. You cannot demand justice from her, only I can do that."

"Rhys" I say, voice barely more than a whisper "don't."

He turns to face me, confusion and pain on his delicate features. He opens his mouth as though to ask me a question, but before a word can exit his lips, my father's arrow hits him.

I scream. The whole world fades to nothing but blurred shapes and movement. I see nothing but Rhys, falling. 

I lash out with the power I had not intended to use. It hits every mortal in the clearing, freezing them in place. Literally. There is ice encasing every one of them from neck to toe. Then I'm on the ground beside Rhys. 

I nearly cry with relief when I feel his breath, shallow and weak though it may be. A hand comes down on my shoulder. Without me noticing the inner circle and Celaena have appeared beside me. Celaena's companion, Aedion, is in among the mortals, watching to make sure my magic doesn't slip. 

I hear Mor's voice, choked with tears, in my ear. "What do you need Feyre?"

I take a deep breath, then, looking at Rhys' face, I pull myself together. I am the high lady of the night court. I am Feyre Cursebreaker. And I will not fall, not here, not today. "A dagger" I say, my voice strong once again.

I can feel the confusion and apprehension in my companions. "Feyre...?" Cass says, worry tinging his voice.

My voice is sharp, commanding when I reply "Mother help me, I'm not going to kill him, or myself. Now somebody give a fucking dagger!"

I feel a dagger in my palm. I look up into Celaena's face, her blond hair covering most of her expression. I nod to her in thanks.

I lift the dagger to my own arm. I hear Mor make a noise behind me, but she quiets herself. I'm grateful. I slide the blade down my arm, leaving a long trail of blood. This I hold to Rhys' mouth. 

It takes a moment, a breathless terrified moment, but he drinks it. After what feels like an hour his eyes flick open, and he stares up at us. I feel the whole group let out a collective breath. After another brief pause he stops drinking the blood flowing into his mouth and pushes my arm away. I sit up and nearly fall, dizzy from blood loss. Rhys sits up slowly, a hand reaching out to cup my cheek. He catches one of the tears that spills from my eyes. 

I kiss him lightly on the forehead. Neither of us says a word, neither of us has to.

Cass clears his throat sheepishly. Rhys laughs gently and lets me go. I stand, but he remains seated. Though I have healed the worst of it, he still needs rest, time to heal. I on the other hand have something very pressing to deal with. 

I turn to face the mortals, and let the magic holding them fade away. Immediately there are weapons being pointed, and threats being screamed, but I silence it all with a single wave of my hand. Then I look straight at my father. 

"You will leave this place now." I say, "and there will be no bloodshed. Count yourselves lucky that I make such an offer."

At that, most of the village turns and runs. But my father, Graysen, and his father remain, weapons aimed, faces set.

"You will pay, for what you have done to Elain." Graysen says "High Lord or no, nobody can protect you from us."

I laugh, a derisive sound. "You think I need protection from the likes of you?"

For the first time since arriving I pull off my hood, and I see my father flinch when he sees my face. My Nightcourt gown. My crown.

"It is you who needs protections from me. You have made an enemy of the High Lady of the Nightcourt this day. And don't think it will be forgotten. But there will be no more blood spilled here tonight. Go home. And don't return."

There is shock on all their faces, and pain, and anger. But also resignation. They know this is not a war they can win. Better to go home, live to fight another day. 

But as they start to leave, there is a sound behind me, like an explosion. I whirl around and see, facing me, my worst nightmare. Or one of them.

The inner circle scrambles back, towards me. I can see Az's and Cass' siphons glowing, preparing for a fight. Nesta has her teeth bared, as do Mor and Amren. Rhys, though still weak and somewhat pale, comes to me and takes my hand. And we all stand, glaring, 

at the king of Hybern. 

*Hey all (maniacal laugh),

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