Tethered to the Starlight: A Court of War and Starlight

Chapter 14: Rhys

Lucien stood in the corridor of the House of Wind, his breathing heavy. I looked to him in surprise and he met my expression with a similar gaze. Taking a chance, he stepped farther into the room, eyeing Elain and the lack of engagement ring on her finger.

She bristled under the scrutiny, and his russet eye under whirred intensely at the interaction. He threw a nervous hand at the base of his neck and his cheeks flushed briefly in embarrassment. "I just...I just had to know you were safe," he said the floor, shying away from her anxious gaze.

Elain motioned in dismissal, approaching him cautiously. A shy smile lit up her delicate features and she brushed a stray piece of golden hair behind her ear. Lucien looked up momentarily to catch the gesture and seemed enamored with the small flow of hair.

"I'm fine now," she said calmly. Her stance was hopeful yet waiting.

"Yes, yes, we are all just peachy," Nesta interjected her arms crossed in defiance. Her words were sharp and her cheeks became horrifically hollow.

He stepped back, unaware of the sharp tongue that Nesta possessed. "Pardon me Lady Nesta, but did I offend you?"

The whole room was silent, even for Damaris who had fallen into a deep slumber on my chest. He challenged her with hos eyebrows, urging her to send a gut-wrenching blow his way. The whole room could sense the tension arising between these two, fighting over Elain, whom each cherished differently.

Cassian although weak, leant into her ear; enduring the anger seeping from every pore of her body. She shook her head several times, her body tremoring from the rage that couldn't contain itself. He grabbed her shoulders and physically turned her away from the scene unfolding before our eyes. She struggled against his grip, fighting his strength. "You don't touch her!" She yelled to no one in particular.

The outburst awoke Damaris; her shrill cries piercing the night air. Running a soothing hand over her scalp, I smoothed the unruly raven hairs already appearing on her head. Rhys looked to the baby and I with an unsettling frown.

"I think she's hungry," I offered. "Do you think you could hand me a blanket?" Everyone seemed to block the stairwell to the bedrooms and Rhys posed no hesitation in barreling right through everyone.

Within seconds, he returned with a velvet-lined blanket of pink, with the Damaris embroidered on the corner. "How?" I wondered aloud.

Mor blushed slightly, her eyes glowing. "You like it?" Cradling the child against my chest, I draped the blanket over my left breast. "I love it." Undoing the buttons on my shirt, I heard the bickering begin to ensue again.

"You stay away from her!"

"I love her-"

"You don't even know love, you idiot!"

"How dare you!"

"What?"

"I have known love for as long as I can remember. Elain may choose to love me as well."

"No she won't!"

"Maybe she would if you weren't always standing in her way!"

Agitated by the lack of quiet in the room, words flew from my mouth unintentionally. "Elain may love whomever she chooses! Nesta you have no right to tell her she may not love Lucien, and Lucien you have no right to tell Nesta that as her sister, she is preventing Elain from love!"

And the room fell silent, except for the sucking of the small child on my breast. Elain looked to each face in the room, her eyes distracted and wild. She shook her head with a drawn out sigh escaping her rosy lips. "I do believe I will retire to my quarters for the night. Lucien," she curtsied, "it was a pleasure to meet you. And Nesta," she turned away, "please find another room to stay in tonight."

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Rhys graciously offered Lucien a room for the night, to which he reluctantly accepted. Before he could turn in for the night, I grabbed his arm. "How are you?"

He kicked at the tabletop I was laying upon in frustration. "How do you think, Feyre?" In the dim candlelight of midnight, he rubbed his temples. He began to pace and I followed his steps with watchful eyes. "How did you do it, Feyre?"

"Do what?" I pushed.

Rhys quietly descended the stairs, our daughter pressed tightly to his muscular chest. Everyone else had resorted to the solitude of sleep, unsure of how to approach the problem that now lay before us.

"Is now a good time?" He probed.

I think so...Maybe you could offer him some advice in the mating department?

Rhys nodded to himself, coaxing himself to approach a man who never had an affinity for the Night Court.

"Lucien?" Rhys tried.

A frustrated smirk spread across Lucien's cheek, "Pardon me High Lord for infringing upon your property."

Tossing his chin high into the air, Rhys tried again. "This is my court and you will respect me. I have offered you asylum as you seek the affection of your mate and distance from the High Lord of Spring. Also, Feyre is not my property. She has her own free will and that is something I never intend to take from her."

Lucien met Rhys' stiff gaze and offered a hand in reconciliation. "Understood. Truce?"

The handshake was terse but meaningful as both men took seats next to my table. Damaris snored slightly in her sleep and drool ran down Rhys' freshly pressed shirt. I sent a laugh down the bond, which earned me a mocking glare.

Stretching his legs out in front of him, Rhys purred in satisfaction. "So Elain, huh?" Lucien nodded, glancing from myself to Rhys, unsure if trusting him was a good idea.

"Well what do you want to know, Lucien?"

Furrowing his brow in concentration, Lucien spoke. "I guess, just how do I make her happy?"

Rhys chuckled deeply, as sleep began to creep its way into the corners of my eyes. "Well to keep an Archeron girl happy...," he began, his voice like silk.

Don't. You. Dare.

"To keep an Archeron woman happy, you must be able to please her with your wingspan as well as your tongue."

You prick.