Elain
The month that Nesta and Elain had been in the Spring Court felt like an eternity. With the expanse of her whole fae life ahead of her, it was no time at all, and yet somehow, the four weeks of continual thanks to Tamlin and skirting around Lucien, Elain felt might be the end of her.
It did feel good to be doing something though. Nesta and her had spent only a couple of weeks in the Night Court and although it had been beautiful and welcoming, they were of no help. Elain had cooked and planted, but the dainty tasks were about the extent of what Nesta would allow her to do. What if she wanted to learn to fight too?
So after a small cry for help from Feyre (which Elain reckoned must have been hard for her to admit and therefore was immensely serious) Nesta and Elain were sent to the Spring Court to help their sister.
And by sent, Rhys had meant 'leave them somewhere noticeable for Tamlin to collect and play hero'.
Now, a month on, Nesta and Elain were still practically falling at the beast's feet exclaiming their gratitude. And he was drinking it in.
Elain's daily routine basically consisted of getting up to offer to help with breakfast, only to be refused, picking at food, strolling around the gardens and going anywhere where Lucien wasn't. Nesta and her had been taking it in turns to guard Feyre so the beast didn't get any time alone with her.
Elain was getting increasingly worried about Lucien's control. He constantly seemed to have to urge to reach out for her or watch her and Elain, Elain felt nothing.
Azriel
They'd heard nothing. Nothing.
Azriel was flying back from another unsuccessful trip to the Spring Court. Whatever borders the prick was using- which Azriel was willing to bet were courtesy of Hybern- they worked.
Azriel hadn't even been able to check on how the sisters were doing, let alone communicate.It had been a month now and Rhys' visible agitation reflected how everyone else was feeling as well.
If something had happened, would they even know?
With that and Cassian's slowly healing wings, the court had been a quiet place for a while now.As soon as Azriel's feet touched the stone of the house of winds, Amren ushered him into the house and to the table, where they'd all gathered.
Rhys cleared his throat. "So our attempts to contact the Spring Court have been pretty unsuccessful, as of late," he started, looking to Azriel for confirmation. "So, Amren has been looking in the Book of Breathing for some more unconventional method of communication." Rhys nodded to Amren.
"The Book speaks of a sort of folding, like winnowing, but more constant. It creates a safe in between section."
Cassian cut in, "Erm, won't old Tamlin notice if there's a constant portal to the Night Court in his manner?" He was looking much better, Azriel noted.
"It's an ancient form of Magic that overlaps two rooms. It's so old, it's way before the law and you High Lords. It's completely unnoticeable unless you enter the room." Amren said.
A silence fell over the group.
"Could it actually work?" Mor asked quietly.
"I guess we'll find out." Said Rhys.
-----
It didn't.
They'd waited in anticipation and a little fearful of ended up in a room with Tamlin sitting across from them.
Amren had said it wasn't a precise location that she was aiming for, just any rarely used room (apparently she could sense how much fae was left in a room, like a sent).
