A Court of Blood and Glory

Mates

Feyre

I was furious. He hadn't told anyone where he was going, and we'd only discovered he'd left after Rita sent word through some poor boy, obviously not pleased about his job. And to come back here, hungover, and not apologise? He was lucky I hadn't killed him yet, although I was contemplating it.
Mor and I had been trying to figure out what to do with him. Ever since he'd lost his wings he'd been detached, but when he did speak he was crueller, focused only on getting revenge, and not caring how it affected anyone else.
The week after we'd come back from Spring had been his worst, yet the details were too foggy for me to remember how he'd acted whilst I was in my half dead state. He hadn't gone to the House of Wind yet, not wanting to be carried there by Cassian or Azriel, and he had no desire to take those thousand stairs either, so he'd settled for remaining in Velaris, grounded.
We all knew it was torture for him.
Mor and I had been looking into ways to get his wings back, but every book said the same thing. Meaning that each book said it was impossible; once an Illyrian, or any winged fae, had their wings severed from their body there was no way to restore them. Rhys knew this, and when he'd found out he'd left the city, returning only once everyone was asleep.
We all knew it was torture for him, but war was coming, and he was still our High Lord and had to lead his people. All his people.
Including the Court of Nightmares.

Cassian and Azriel came to the town house to take Mor and me to the House of Wind, Amren already there. I had left a not to Rhys, telling him where we were, but I hoped that we would be back before he woke, not wanting to know how he reacted to us coming here without him. It would kill him.
"How do we get Rhys to agree to this?" Amren asked. It was the question we all needed answered, how to get Rhys to agree to anything other than revenge.
"I think I can help with that." I said, and I knew I could convince him to do anything. Well, nearly anything. "Rhys and I are mates, I think that when we accept the bond he will begin to see a bit more clearly." And I knew that it would help me, too.
I realised then that I had always felt something for Rhys, even when I only knew him as Amarantha's whore, as the High Lord of the Court of Nightmares. And that feeling had only grown when he called in our bond for the first time, when he saw me as a person, not just an object, unlike a certain piece of shit in that shithole of a court.
I loved Rhys, and I was ready to declare it to the world, that I was the mate of the most powerful fae in all of Prythian, that I was his and he was mine, for eternity.
We all agreed to try my idea before telling him about going to the Court of Nightmares. He had to agree. If he didn't we would lose valuable allies in this coming war, allies that we couldn't afford to lose.
And I knew just how to test this theory.

Rhysand

Feyre came into my room as I woke, pausing as she took in my completely naked body, the towel having fallen away as I tossed and turned whilst asleep.
I could feel her desire coming down our bond, but something else too, fear. Fear for what she was about to do. It made me sit up, not caring about what she saw.
"Rhys," she began, her voice betraying her emotions toward me. Definitely desire. "We need to talk."
"About what?" I responded, trying to make myself sound amused.
I need to apologise first, for what I said earlier. You are nothing like Tamlin, and you never will be." She paused, awaiting my response.
"If anyone should apologise, Feyre, it should be me. I was like Tamlin, and you had every right to treat me that way." I meant it, too.
"Also, about us... about us being...mates." She said it slowly, as if she was afraid of my reaction.
"I am happy to suppress the bond if it is what you want." No I wasn't, but for her sake I would do it.

"No!" She shouted in alarm. "I mean, if you want to do that then fine –"I cut her off, knowing that she was finding it difficult to discuss this, when we had never openly admitted our emotions before.
"Feyre. I love you. I always have, but it is your choice, if you wish to accept the bond or not." I held my breath, just in case she said no.
"I love you Rhys, and I am honoured to be your mate." And we both felt it then, a small bond, different to our deal, forming between us.

I couldn't breathe for a moment; I'd forgotten how to, but knew, deep down, that we would have an eternity together, if we survived this war.

We went downstairs, both of us fully clothed, unfortunately, only to find the house deserted, everyone, including Nuala and Cerridwen, having disappeared.
"I'm hungry. What would you like?" Her question hit me like a punch to the gut. She must have seen my reaction as alarm was clear on her face.
"It's just, women feed their mates to confirm and seal the bond."
I was unsure how she would react, but all she said was, "I can't cook."
"Toast it is then." And I felt a flicker of amusement coming from our new bond, our deal now dark and empty, not needed anymore.
She made the toast in silent, and I sat at the table, contemplating what I wold do next. She was my mate, my equal in every way, even her powers were equal to mine. She had asked Tamlin once whether she would become High Lady, and he'd laughed in her face, but I wanted her to feel equal in every way. High Lady of the Night Court had a nice ring to it.
She turned back to me, her eyes hopeful and lined with tears of joy, I hoped.
"Do you love me?" She asked, her voice no louder than a whisper.
"With all my heart." She placed the food in front of me, and I ate it in a few bites, trying to down the horrid stuff as fast as possible. I made a note to never let her cook for me again, though maybe Cassian wold like to try some of her cooking.
With every bite I felt the bond growing stronger, her thoughts now drifting down it, wrapping around my heart.

I swallowed the last bite, my eyes having never left her face, and saw my mate in all her glory, a faint glow around her. Day court.
All of a sudden my senses were sharpened, and I yearned for the feel of her body on mine. I hated the thoughts of anything between us, including our clothes, and I could tell that Feyre was having the same emotions as me.
I pulled her towards me, sitting her on my lap, my hands on her hips, as we kissed, slow and steady at first but soon becoming more ravenous. We didn't want to go slow and test the waters, we were mates, and we had spent too long apart. We were going all in at full speed.

When Feyre was ready she pushed my hands down so that they gripped her arse, pulling her closer into my body, our scents entwining, and I realised that was our scent now, forever. But we weren't done there. One minute we were sitting, the next I had us on the table, Feyre undoing my tunic as I shredded her dress. After too long there was nothing between us, and we didn't hold back, refusing to be apart ever again.

Hours later we decided to get up, knowing that our friends would be awaiting our arrival. I hated the thought of leaving the house but we were still at war, still needed to plan and fight. So we stood up, surveying the damage done to the house.

It was wrecked. Every room. We hadn't confined ourselves to the kitchen, though I was beginning to believe that maybe we should have. Most of the furniture had been moved or toppled, feathers everywhere from when Feyre gripped them so hard she tore them, glass smashed on the floor and every book flung off the shelf. A wave of my hand had everything back in its place, and fresh clothes appeared before us. We dressed, our senses still reeling from everything we'd been through.
Mates. I couldn't believe it. I had been blessed with this wonderful female with a mortal heart, a heart that had chosen me. We had been through so much, but we were healing, bit by bit.