Chapter Text
Ella gazed at her reflection, not recognising the face that stared back at her. The dark circles and sallow skin were not features she associated with herself, but now they were ingrained on her skin, as clear as the sun breaking over the horizon. Tears spilled down her cheeks silently. The beautiful female she had once been was buried beneath sleepless nights and hungover mornings, trapped behind the bars of her mind. Maybe she had wanted to deprive anyone and everyone of her once supple body. Take something from those who had taken everything from her.
It had become something darker though, recently. It had been purposeful to begin with, but now she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help the way her mouth refused to lift into a smile, the way laughter stopped as soon as it started. There was nothing to be done about her complete and utter lack of friends who truly cared about her.
She mentally shook herself. She could push these feelings down for one more day, get through this meeting. Hopefully, it would be over quickly. She wanted nothing more than to dance in the sunset, but her favourite time of day was still several hours away. Her rooms were one of few without a balcony. Another one of the presents from the High Priestesses.
“Ellaria!” One of the Priestesses yelled. Oh, they were going to be furious if she was late. Apparently this was a very important meeting with the rulers of the Night Court. The Priestesses had seemed nervous, and that made Ella even more excited. Maybe someone would finally put them in their places.
She cast one last glance at her reflection, using magic to cover any imperfections. Any impurity was not allowed in the fortress. Neither was talking loudly or running. Ella broke all three of these rules frequently, no longer caring what punishments they gave her. There was nothing they could do that would break her more than she already was. She forced a friendly smile on her face, making sure it wasn’t too strained.
“Ellaria!” The sharp, female voice was a snap of a whip against her skin. Ella leaped up, practically running out of her room. Someone pushed her down the corridor, and one of the more junior acolytes gestured to the meeting room. She smoothed her dress down, straightening her spine as she entered the room.
The pure, unfiltered power of those within slammed into her. She stumbled back, catching herself at the last moment. Cold, violet eyes met hers, boring into her soul. Ella lifted her chin. If she could survive the fortress, she could survive this male. He was so… much, it took her a moment to even notice the others present. She automatically took a step back at the sight of two, huge males on either side of the sole window. There was a pretty, brunette female beside the violet-eyed male, and another, golden female by her side. On her other side was a tiny female with dark hair and silver eyes. The golden female opened her mouth, leaning forward, but was interrupted by the first male.
“Do they intimidate you?” He purred, his darkness beckoning to her.
She spun around to face Mariblle, her main tutor.
“You didn’t tell me there would be- that they would be here.” She hated the fear in her voice, the way her hands trembled. The tiny female’s eyes widened as she exchanged a glance with the golden one. The violet male didn’t seem to care for her discomfort, even if the shadowy one on the left took a subtle step back, lessening his domineering presence in the room.
“We have allowed for your… weakness with males for the past year, Ellaria. We cannot anymore.” Mariblle replied coolly, facial expression unfaltering and icy. Ella took a step back, eyes darting around the room as she looked for an escape route.
The windows would require going directly between the two winged males, and she had a feeling they were quicker than they looked. It seemed the only exit was the door behind her, but the Priestesses were sure to be waiting outside, ready to force her back inside. Her heartbeat echoed inside her ears, pounding through her head. The golden female sucked in a sharp breath, staring at Ella as though she’d given her an electric shock. Ella didn’t bother to question it, more focused in trying to hide her panic.
We can help you, Ellaria. There is a library within my court, a sanctuary for females who desire it.
She nearly jumped out of her skin at the dark voice in her head. Her gaze snapped to the violet-eyed male, who raised a brow at her. She glanced back at the Priestesses behind her. The fortress may have been a prison, but it was her home. She couldn’t just leave.
I-I can’t.
She responded quietly.
But you want to.
He pressed. Ella bit her lip. She did want to, but she was too scared.
I don’t want to spend one more minute of my life in a library.
She replied. His lips curved up fractionally.
Then you won’t ever have to, Ellaria. I promise.
“Your protegee is coming with us, Priestess.” He said coolly.
“With respect, High Lord, she is our property. She belongs to us.”
That much was true, Ella realised. The Priestesses had been the one constant in her life. The dark male snarled viciously.
“She stopped belonging to you the first time you beat her.” The Shadowsinger growled. Ella stared at him, both surprised and horrified that he knew. A shadow curled around her wrist, a small comfort. She watched it, curiosity sparking in her gaze. Azriel could hardly tear his eyes from her. Something in her called to him, too loud to be ignored.
He winnowed directly behind her, not close enough to cause her discomfort. The Priestesses’ face drained of colour as Azriel spread his wings, power radiating off him. His shadows twined around her, curling against her body.
Her silver hair and golden eyes were a direct juxtaposition to his shadows, his blue siphons gleaming amongst the darkness like shooting stars. The two of them made a striking pair, and it was understandable why the Priestesses’ took a step back.
“I would be very careful what you say next.” Azriel snarled, ice-cold rage coating his otherwise-handsome features.
It seemed the Priestess had lost the ability to speak as she nodded, fear covering her scent. Ella pushed down the savage delight at the sight, straightening her spine. She wasn’t sure why the Shadowsinger was being so protective. Maybe he already knew that she would be joining their court. Either way, she was grateful for the protection he provided.
“I am leaving.” She stated quietly. She didn’t bother to wait for them to reply as she turned to the Shadowsinger, taking his hand as the shadows coiled around them, comfort in their darkness.
Ella gasped as she opened her eyes, beholding the city for the first time. Azriel stepped back, eyes shuttering as he masked any and all emotion from his face. She spun around, trying to take it all in at once.
“What have you brought to our doorstep, Rhysand?” The tiny one murmured, eyes fixed on Ella, who hadn’t even noticed their arrival in her awe. Rhysand stiffened fractionally, and the general snorted. “She will burn, Cassian. You would do well to remember that.”
Ella turned around to face them all, unaware of what had been said about her. Rhysand forced a friendly smile onto his face, wondering where this willowy female hid whatever power Amren sensed. He had thought that her hair and eyes were unusual, especially for High Fae. There was no doubting she was High Fae, however, as the High Priestesses would never have bothered with a Lesser Fae.
“This is Azriel, my Shadowsinger. The loud one is Cassian, Amren is the short one, Mor is over there, and finally, Feyre, my High Lady. Nesta is just over there with her friends Emerie and Gwyn. You’re more than welcome to stay with us until you find a suitable home in the city.” Rhysand said. Ella wondered if she should bow to him, but quickly decided against it.
“You are a most gracious host.” She replied quietly, retreating back into herself. Feyre frowned slightly, but Nesta had approached before she could say anything.
“Who are you?” Nesta asked bluntly. Cassian rolled his eyes.
“Please ignore my mate. She means to ask for your name.” There were several eyerolls at the proud way in which Cassian called Nesta his mate.
“My name is Ellaria, but I prefer Ella.” She replied, even more quiet than before. Feyre recognised this trait in herself, in how she had been in Spring.
“I can show you to your room if you like. Dinner will be served in two hours but you’re more than welcome to eat alone if you prefer.”
Ella gave her a tentative smile.
“That would be lovely.”
The two females moved inside the River House, leaving the others to discuss Ella in detail.
“What do you think of her, Mor?” The usually chipper Third had stayed remarkably quiet.
“She seems nice.” Was her only response before she left, heading towards the city, the others frowning after her. Nesta shrugged.
“She seems… timid. Weak.”
Azriel growled at this assumption.
“None of us have any idea what she’s been through. It’s unfair to judge.” Gwyn pointed out. A look of guilt passed over Nesta’s face.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Gwyn.”
“It’s not me you need to apologise to, Nesta.” Gwyn said gently. Nesta sighed as Cassian nudged her.
“Fine.” She conceded. Rhysand looked surprised that Nesta would even consider apologising to someone. “I will talk to her after dinner.”
Emerie glanced in the direction Mor had gone.
“Do you think she’s alright?” The Illyrian asked, worry and concern colouring her voice. Nesta gave her friend a knowing look, which Emerie chose to ignore. Cassian smiled at her.
“She’s Mor. She’s always alright.”
This wasn’t particularly reassuring to anyone present, but the conversation was quickly steered back to their new, silver-haired houseguest.
“What power were you referring to, Amren?” Azriel asked, the only one brave or stupid enough to do so. Amren stared at him for a moment, giving him a warning look. When he didn’t respond, she answered his question.
“I am not sure what it is. It is nothing I recognise from this court, but I am sure I have felt it somewhere. It’s fire yet starlight, an ocean but the sun. It isn’t bound to a certain court.” Yet again, everyone present tried to not look too concerned. This female… there was something about her, something that had prompted Rhys to invite a complete stranger into his home. Something that made them all trust her despite not knowing her.
“She’s beautiful, but not in the traditional sense.” Gwyn murmured, thinking aloud. This thought was considered thoroughly, and the others decided that Gwyn was right. There was something alluring about Ella.
“I think we should talk to her, see what she knows about herself.” Cassian stated. Rhys nodded at his brother. Azriel frowned, used to finding out information before and having the upper hand in conversation. Rhys glanced at him, clear warning written all over his face.
Azriel spread his wings, the sun slamming into them, golden-brown veins shining against the translucent black. Shadows flared around his body as he shot into the air, the Shadowsinger out of sight before anyone on the ground could so much as blink. Gwyn’s brow creased a little, but she said nothing, falling into conversation with Emerie and Nesta, seemingly ignoring the lack of Azriel’s presence. Rhys turned to Cassian, the two falling into a brief discussion on what to do about their brother.
“Do you think she’s his mate?” Cassian asked quietly. The three females fell silent, spinning around to face the males. Rhys considered this.
“It would explain why Mor was so shocked earlier.” He admitted. No one noticed Gwyn’s lips pressing together in a hard line. She couldn’t help but hope that wasn’t true. Cassian hummed, finally tired of speculating. He wrapped an arm around Nesta’s waist, smirking before shooting them into the sky. Emerie watched wistfully, and Gwyn grabbed her friend’s hand to distract her from her inability to fly. Rhys walked inside, wondering if his brother may finally find the happiness he deserved.