A Court of Blood and Glory

Three days, two nights

Feyre

Even though Tamlin was in a rage, it didn't stop him from our night time activities, only that time Rhys was too tired, in too deep a sleep, for me to wake him and to protect me. I didn't blame him; he hadn't slept at all the past few days, and eventually he'd crashed. I didn't want to wake him, make him suffer more than he had already, and I knew that it hurt him more than he let on when he held me in his memories, because I was sacrificing my body the way he had, and it only made him think of his time with Amarantha. So I went through the night on my own, my shields like adamant, so strong that Rhys couldn't see what happened, and when I awoke the next morning and rushed to the bathroom to vomit I felt dirty, felt like I had a layer of filth covering me, showing the world how unclean I was.
Feyre Archeon. High Lady of the Nigh Court. Cursebreaker. Tamlin's whore.
Filthy little whore. Unclean. Dirty. Tamlin's whore. The name went over and over in my head as the realisation of what I'd been doing the past evenings really set in.
Tamlin hadn't held back that night, and I slowly healed the claw marks on my back from his vice like grip. I looked myself over once more, needing to confirm that I was whole and that nothing else had happened to me, but all I could see was a malnourished body, one that hadn't had any proper food and nutrition in weeks. It seemed that whenever I left this manor I was near starving, and I knew that I would leave it for the last time in three days. Two nights.

xxx

Even though I felt awful for the three men in the dungeons, I couldn't deny that my plan had worked perfectly; none of the servants or sentries trusted their High Lord, and they were reluctant to do anything for him, and many of the staff had fled the night following the display. Tamlin, of course, was beyond furious by this turn of events, but he could do nothing to bring the lost staff back, and so he did what he did best and threw a fit, trashing the walls even further and destroying all he owned. It was perfect for me, and even better was that I only had two more nights in his bed.
But even worse was that I had to train with Tamlin that day.
I went back into Tamlin's room to find the High Lord already dressed in what I could only assume were Spring Court fighting clothes. He wore tight, thick brown leather trousers and a white shirt, with a leather breastplate over the top. The outfit was finished off with an empty knife belt slung across his waist, and another strapped over his chest. The ensemble was similar to the Illyrian leathers I'd come to love, but these were not my court's fighting attire, and I wasn't about to go train with Cassian in the forest.
Tamlin gave me a brief smile. "You won't be fighting anyone, but I think that you will need to get a feel for these because you will be at some risk when we go to the wall with the King." Maybe he was changing, the fact that he was letting me train in actual leathers was such a change from the male I'd come to know, but he couldn't change what he'd done to me, therefore it didn't matter. He was still a beast that hurt all who met him.
I walked up to the bed, picking up the leathers on the bed. "I haven't had any tailored to you, so you will have to borrow these. They are from one of the younger sentries, and should be ok." He didn't mention getting me my own leathers though, so I supposed he wasn't that changed. I turned to go into the bathroom once more to change, but Tamlin stopped me with a hand on my stomach and began to lift my top up, grasping my breast. "You know, my love, you were much more fun in bed last night. I hope you will be better tonight as well." He nibbled at my ear, and I had no choice but to lean into his chest, pretend that I was enjoying it, enjoying his touch. I almost ran into the bathroom, almost locked the door on the monster behind me and throw up what was left over in my near empty stomach, but I didn't. I couldn't.
Three days. Two nights.

Xxx

We took two packs of food, enough for breakfast and lunch, before making our way out into the forest, the sunlight only just streaming through the trees overhead. It was just after dawn, and I could feel my body reverting into the training schedule Cassian had arranged for me.
We continued walking for some time, eventually reaching the small stream that I'd used when I captured the suriel for the first time, when I fought the naga and Tamlin came to save me. Tamlin seemed to know what I was thinking, as he quickly spoke. "I know that this place may bring back some bad memories for you, my love, but you won't be fighting anyone other than me, and I'll only be taking you through some basic self-defence moves that will give you time to run." Run. Not fight, or attack. Run.
"Can I not learn to fight?" I asked, desperate to get back into shape before confronting Cassian again.
"You won't need to fight, because you will always be protected by me. These self-defence moves are only in case you are alone, and they will allow you time to find me." So I was to let him protect me and always hide behind him. It was a good job that it would never come to that. He spent a few moments stretching against a tree, and soon pulled me towards him and began to hold me as he ran me through the same stretches, thinking that I was completely new to the whole affair. Even if he didn't know about my Illyrian training he should have been aware of my time as a huntress, should have remembered that I spent hours running through the forest, and that I did know how to defend myself a tiny bit at least. I was tempted to kick him as he began to help me stretch my legs, grabbing my thigs as he walked me through them, but reminded myself that I had to maintain the façade of a weak doll, and that he would soon watch his manor burn.
Once we finished it was time to do a little run, and Tamlin took me on a five minute run through the trees. It was nothing near what I was used to, but I was able to stretch out my out of shape body. He once we returned he pushed me against a tree, kissing my neck thoroughly. It was very clear that Tamlin was only interested in touching me, and that he had no interest in actually training me properly, but I wished that he would leave me alone, that he would allow me to actually use my power, even in the slightest, without any reprimand. If only I was back in the Night Court, if only I was with Rhys. Three days. Two nights.

Rhysand

I was so tired. So, so tired.
But then I wasn't. Not in the way Feyre thought. She thought I was tired because I had stayed awake with her all day and all night, constantly alert, never resting, for two days. No, I wasn't tired because of that. I was tired because I'd been using my power constantly, monitoring her, even when her walls had been strong enough to block me out, I'd ensured she was alive, that she was ok. But then it was still more than that. I felt like something was draining me, using up everything I had inside me, and I knew it was from the mating bond. I could feel it puling me, trying to get me to go to my mate, get me to save her when she was so far away, and in so much danger.
It was driving me mad.
I hadn't just stayed awake for Feyre, I'd stayed awake because my dreams were plagued with nightmares of my mate. Of my mate locked away. Of Feyre being tortured and beaten in front of me, and of myself hurting her. It was agony.
The first night was the worst, when Feyre climbed into his bed for the first time, and I couldn't sleep once she was done, once she fell asleep, because all I saw was myself with Amarantha, relived all of my memories of my time with her. The second night I told myself I could do better, that I would sleep and shut out the memories, but they haunted me once more, so I didn't try to sleep again. I just sat in my room, my metal wings wrapped around my body and darkness pouring out of me as I tried to drown out all the voices and pain, all of the screaming in my head that yelled about how Feyre was in danger, that she needed me, that I should stop Tamlin from hurting her anymore.
I'd barely slept with Feyre gone, my mating bond drawing on me constantly, but when she started to whore herself it was like everything was heightened, and I struggled more and more each day, each night, until I crashed as the sun set on the third night when darkness began to pour from me once more.
I slept all night and all day, until I awoke to the bond going taught. That only happened when Feyre was near, and I was immediately out of bed, running down to the foyer, leaving my clothes behind, and found my mate in the foyer, tears streaming down her face. I ran over to her, hugging her as she kneeled down.
But she didn't kiss me. That was not like her, not at all. She should have been happy, should have been more than happy to be with me again. I finally looked her over, the haze that had covered my eyes finally dissipating, allowing me to see her clearly.
Her Illyrian wings were out, but they were shredded.
And blood was covering her. Covering her hands, her face, and her back.
But it wasn't all hers.