Day Court / Hewn City
Day Court
The attacks have been harsher and more harsher, the enemies started to occupy the North and South of Prythian, for what Helion knew, where used to be the Human part of Prythian was fully occupied, and the Night Court was in the worst situation if compared to the other courts, only the middle of their territory, Hewn City and their borders weren’t occupied.
The High Lord walked around his palace, his home, he had been doing it during all the morning, he didn’t knew for how much time he would still be able to live on it, the Underground plans were almost done, there were people already living in there, but he had decided to wait until it wasn’t possible to stay in surface anymore.
He passed by his grandson's empty bedroom's door, the boy who had started to live with him when Jurian and Vassa died, the boy who he was able to see growing up when visiting Lucien, while his son slowly fell into madness.
His son… Helion couldn’t keep the thought of Lucien on his mind, he should have take him after the two weeks, but couldn’t explain him about who he was, not again, not after their discussion years ago, not after their reconciliation, and… the extreme feeling of powerless, the same thing he feel when thinking about his lover, his son's mother…
Helion walked to the library, his golden sandals making sounds as it touched the black and gold detailed marble floor, which gave a contrast to the white walls, he needed to think in something else – as his thoughts were emerged in the attacks, Underground, his son, and several other things – so he would read the first book to be taken by him, then read and read during the rest of the day.
The library’s door was open, his hand still in the golden knob as his eyes surveyed the place – light yellow walls, light gray bookcases and cream colored armchairs – choosing from which bookcase he would grab a book. When chosen, the High Fae walked to the one close to the main window.
The male took a random book, sat in the closest armchair while taking a deep breath, hearing around him, the silence. The book was about war strategy, he left it on his right thigh as the left one hurt after a long time walking.
Helion held up the fabric of his white toga skirt – the clothing common used by people on his court, largely misunderstood by the outsiders as tunic, dress or even robes – his golden amber eyes found the recent healed and still painful scar on his powerful thigh, the scar from the wound he got weeks ago, after a enemy stabbed and twisted the metal tipped knife made by wood ash in the battlefield, when he was almost finishing who seemed to be their general, the soldier had came from nowhere, then a second after the enemies vanishing he still had the knife on his thigh.
Helion touched the scar, regretting it in a heartbeat. “Mother above.” He whispered by the pain, placing the toga's skirt back in the right place, then took the book, opening in the first page and started to read.
oOo
The sunset came, he had read a few more books, only stopped when his head started to fell when he was feeling asleep, he slowly walked towards his room, slightly limping.
Helion was close to the door, when it suddenly got opened, his amber golden eyes found the smirk of a tall male High Fae using a nightsuit.
“Using my room, Jomei?” Helion said to his friend, lips curved upward, while leaning a hand on the door frame.
“That was Ziv's idea.” he answered, glancing at the female High Fae laid on her side at the bed. “She said you have spending too much time alone, then I checked, you really are.”
Jomei and Ziv were Helion's long time friends, they have been spend a long time together, always supporting each other, they were also friends with benefits in a few occasions, no romance engagement between them.
“What are you both planning?” Helion grinned as Jomei curved both arms around his waist, carefully holding up the High Lord.
Jomei carried the male to the bed, leaving him sat, Helion removed his golden sandals before laying.
“We want to know what you were reading all day.” Ziv said, covering Helion with blankets as he got closer to her.
“And after it?” Helion said putting a lock of his oak long silken hair behind his ear, Jomei laid behind him, resting a arm around his waist.
“Something more especial?” the male chuckled, watching Helion's grin grown,
“Something we haven’t done for awhile? Something sexy?” the three High Faes laughed, “Would you like it?”
“If it is not a nuisance.” Helion held the both female and male's lower arms.
“It is never a nuisance.” Ziv answered.
“And always a pleasure,” Jomei added.
oOoOo
Hewn City
The jasmine scent entered in the lavish sitting area as the Midday wind swayed the curtains, Cassian was sat in the couch at his and Nesta's suite at the Palace. They had moved there since the illyrian territory had been occupied, which happened four days ago, and also two days later when the same thing happened to Velaris. They were lucky that their population moved to the Underground weeks ago, while part of the Illyrian Army and The Army of Velaris moved to the Hewn City and the other part to the Lunar's Bridge, the main city of the middle of the territory.
The male didn’t bother to keep his wings tight on his back while sitting in the couch, he had his elbows in both knees while his hands held a small baby onesie, he wasn’t sure about how much time of the day he had spend in there, staring at it.
“Are you still wailing on it?” Rhysand's voice, the violet eyed male entered silently in the room, or Cassian was so focused on his thoughts that he didn’t paid attention.
The red siphoned male putted the small onesie, his son's onesie, in the coffee table in front of him, turning his face in a disgusted facial expression to his brother, who flinched at his look.
“What kind of question is that?” he asked, his body rigid.
“I need you in the military meeting room at night. Your son is fine, he is just far away, you don’t need to keep wailing at his absence.”
“It is easy for you to say it. You know, those words coming from someone who dislike his own daughter, it is already expected.”
Cassian crossed his arms, tucking his wings tightly on his back.
“I don’t –” Rhysand got cut.
“You do, or at least used to. You threw the fault of Feyre's risk labor on that girl who didn’t even ask to be on this world.” Cassian said rasp, spitting the words, he glanced at the onesie “You can’t even understand who I feel, why I am wailing… Because you have never been alone, even in the worst situations you knew there was always someone who loved you.” He stared at Rhysand.
Nesta suddenly opened the bedroom's door, walking out, her fingers tightly holding her baby's little gloves, her hair tied in a low pony tail, her dress wrinkled as if she had been sleeping using it, “What happened?” she felt Cassian's rage and sorrow through the bond, but didn’t hear anything since he left it closed and the walls and doors on this palace were sound proof.
The violet eyed male’s face softened, his eyes still on Cassian's, he ignored Nesta's presence, “I am sorry –” Rhysand's wings were covered in glamour, they weren’t apparent, but the shadow of them in the floor was still there, indicating how weak his magic was getting.
“You aren’t. You can’t realize how much your actions and words affect people until someone call you out.” Cassian's voice was hoarse.
“Just leave us alone.” Nesta tighten the grip on her hand, Rhysand’s eyes found hers, ice rage on his, flames on hers, she didn’t flinch, didn’t move, kept her chin lifted, staring at him as a hawk stare to its prey.
Rhysand snorted, “That is my fucking palace.” He said through teeth.
“Don’t talk with her like this.” Cassian snarled, his wings even more tight on his back.
Nesta gaze fell on her mate, “I told you it wasn’t a good idea to come here.”
But Rhysand was the one who answered, “Where would you go then?” he putted his hands out of his pockets, “To a tent in the middle of mud, ruins, rubble? Those are the only places left around here after the surprise attacks.”
Nesta snorted a low chuckle, “Those are the only places left after more than 500 years of being ruled by a High Lord, who wasn’t able to properly administrate his territory and left massive part of it unprotected by any army, leaving the citizens by themselves.” Rhysand’s eyes narrowed, “The biggest Court in Prythian, and only four armies, the Illyrians, the recent and not properly trained Army of Velaris, the Lunar's Knights and the Darkbrigers, two who aren’t even under your command.”
A muscle on the violet eyed male's jaw flicked, her words were truth, the truth he didn’t want to hear “Shut up.” He said low, his eyes blinked slowly, fingers curved in a fist, his claws were out, tearing his palms' skin.
Nesta lifted a brow, “The impressiveiest part of it, is that Cassian and I made more for the Illyrians in 48 years than yourself in 500.”
“Silence.” Rhysand said to Nesta, using his High Lord voice.
Cassian stood, wings slightly wide as he got a few steps before Rhysand.
Nesta didn’t move a millimeter, her spine straight, chin lifted and staring at Rhysand, she was a tall pillar of steel staring at a simple boulder, “Don’t give me orders, you are not my High Lord.”
Rhysand only stared at her, she didn’t made any effort to disobey the voice, she was there, looking at him as if he was nothing, no fear, no regret of the words said, not a single flinch, only rage and disgust on her eyes, her voice.
His power, his High Lord command, had no effect on her. He could swear that her lips curved in a light smirk as she said: “That is how you solve your problems, isn’t that? How you make people agree with you even when their ideas are different. Through fear. Through that stupid high lord order. Through your daemati claws.”
Before saying or doing anything Rhysand glanced at his side, where Cassian was meager centimeters from him, ready to fight in case of any kind of attack being shot towards Nesta.
“As I told you before, don't talk with her like this, and don’t ever use this this voice on any of us again.” the warrior’s voice was low, terrifying calm.
Rhysand kept in silence, staring at Nesta as she snorted a low laugh, walking towards him – not him, but to the door.
“I only said the truth you refuse to acknowledge or simple ignore as if it is nothing.” She spat the words as her hand touched the knob.
“Where are you going?” Cassian asked going after her.
“I need to take some fresh air.” She said holding the baby gloves in a fist, close to her chest, Cassian followed her through the hall.
Rhysand walked out the suite, his gaze on the open wounds on his palms, made by his own sharp claws.
oOo
Nesta walked to the outside of the Palace, a view of nothing but the beautiful sky, gray-stoned mountains and ruins far away, she paced to the gate guarded by four sentries, the gate that leaded to the large stairs, to the inside the mountain.
“I thought you needed fresh air.” Cassian said behind her, as they were walking downstairs.
“Why are you following me?” she asked looking over the shoulder.
Cassian stepped closer to her, “Here is not save as Velaris, nor people know you as in the Illyrian.” He dragged a hand through his black length below the shoulder hair, “They don’t like Rhysand, and the people close him… Well you are Feyre's sister.”
“I know.” She let escape a breath from her mouth, looked ahead, placing the gloves on her dress' pocket, she got in the end of the stairs, in the last gate which separated the Palace from the city.
The gate was opened by 2 sentries, 6 were guarding the outside, soon Nesta and Cassian were walking in the Hewn City, the place illuminated by artificial lights. A few blocks away from where they were, they could see the Underground entrance still in construction.
“Do you know that, they wanted to simply close their entrances?” Cassian said glancing at the construction. “They forgot that their location is known.”
Nesta didn’t answer, she kept walking, looking ahead. The people in the city were acting normally, as if they weren’t living in risk. She received a few stares from the walking citizens, but kept stepping forward, walking until she arrived in a cemetery, a recent made cemetery.
She stopped her steps, Cassian was so close that she could feel his warmness, the female putted a hand in the pocket, grabbing the baby gloves while staring at the small graves in the ground, some of them had dolls, in others plushes, or toys.
Cassian touched her shoulder, his lips in a thin line while staring at the graves, her fingers were curved in a fist, the grip so tight that her knuckles were white.
“They were all poors, low borns, or bastards –” said a dark blond female High Fae – High Fae as the city's entire population – she was thin, used a simple old dress with a few holes made by moths in the skirt, “The nobles had the control over who would receive the potion… those kids received none.” Her dark brown eyes were like a void, her facial expression revealed nothing, “My sister was able to go away in a ship, she was married, had a young kid, she begged me to go with her, but I didn’t –” she walked towards one of the smaller graves, sitting in ground, right in front of one of them, the one which had a small shoe, “I wanted to stay with my child.”
Nesta dragged the hand she used to hold the small gloves to her mouth, her blurred gaze by the tears, staring one last time at the cemetery, the number of graves was bigger if compared to the ones in the Illyrian, several times bigger. She grabbed Cassian's wrist with her free hand before quickly walking back to the Palace.