Chapter Text

Chapter 99

Arwen lounged with Mor on a chair that she had brought up to the rooftop of the House, letting the late spring sun warm her as she watched the Illyrians train. It was her day off training, but she couldn’t resist coming up to watch Azriel. Mor was more than happy to be a companion.

Arwen wrinkled her nose as the sun suddenly disappeared. “Go away, Rhys,” she grumbled. “You’re blocking my sun and my view.” Rhysand silently arched a dark brow and looked over his shoulder to where Azriel and Cassian fought with their blades. When he looked back down at her, his lips were tugged in an amused grin at the evidence of her obvious position of spying. “What do you want?”

“Well, I was going to invite you out to something special but since you seem so keen on throwing my companionship away…” Rhysand slowly turned on his heels.

Arwen launched over the armrest of her chair, snatching his wrist. “You don’t get to ignite my curiosity then walk away. What’s the something special happening?”

“Is it that festival happening at the Rainbow tonight?” asked Mor from Arwen’s other side, her eyes not moving from the scene of the fight beyond. Arwen perked, dropping his wrist.

Rhysand scowled at their cousin. “I wanted to deliver the news.” The scowl dropped as his violet eyes moved back to Arwen. “We haven’t been out as just the two of us in a while.”

She pushed up from the recline, folding her legs underneath one another. “Why hadn’t I heard of this before now?” She liked to think she kept up to date with the happenings of her home. In the past months she had been reclusive from it, but she had spent centuries in this city and today’s date wasn’t anything notably.

He smirked. “Because I’m only telling you now.” Jerking his head in the direction of the city he said, “The people need a celebration with everything that’s happened. I want to celebrate. It finally feels like we’ve got a bit of peace.”

Humming, she leant back into the recline of her lounge chair, tenting her knees in an eased position. “I don’t know. I had plans to just mope around this evening.”

His entertainment only grew. “Is that so?”

Arwen nodded morosely. “You would have to convince me.”

“Is the idea of spending time with me not enough?” he demanded. Mor snorted before Arwen had a chance to. Clicking his tongue, Rhysand dropped to a crouch by the arm of her chair, rapping his fingers along it in thought. “I’ll take you flying after. All night. Wherever you want.”

Arwen hadn’t expected the offer. Truly she just thought he would offer to buy her a new piece of jewellery or artwork while they were out but this was far better. They hadn’t been flying out together in… years. “Let’s hope you’re fit enough for the task.”

Rhysand’s brows moved together as he examined her body. “Yes, you have put on quite a bit of weight haven’t you,” he remarked, throwing her taunt right back into her face. Arwen’s jaw dropped to her neck and he quickly veered out of the path of her thwack. His laughter quickly drowned out the low grunts in the short distance as he wrestled her hands back into her lap. “Which I am glad to see,” he finally added, the smile turning warm. “You look like you again.”

Cheeks pressing against her eyes with the smile she tried to tame, Arwen asked, “What time do I need to be ready by?”

“About an hour before sunset. It goes well into the night so wear something comfortable and warm. Pants. You always complained when I took you flying in dresses about the breeze.”

It was all he seemed to have come to the rooftop for as he left without waiting to greet his brothers. Arwen went back to watching them spar, excited for night to come. Clapping, she cheered at her mate’s victory in the current round. He turned a bit bashful at the public attention, keeping his head hanging low, hiding a smile as he wiped his sweat away from his brow. Cassian simply shoved a finger in her direction, already egging Azriel into another round.

At an hour until sunset, Arwen waited on the main balcony in a matching set of loose, forest green pants and a sleeved shirt, her feet comfortably sitting in black slippers. Rhysand arrived dressed as usual. He flew them down to the edge of the Rainbow. Market stalls were still open, crowds weaving between them like rivers as they did on the busiest of days. He let her lead the way.

Since the River House was near finished and the town house was nearly hers anyway, she spoke with an artist who had a small gallery of landscape paintings—from the mountains to forest rivers. There was one the fae had on display: a meadow, the long grass golden with sunlight and dark trees lining the background. Unable to take her eyes off it for so long, she put bought it outright, organising to collect it in the coming weeks.

As night fell, lanterns were lit, illuminating the roads.

“They’re pretty,” said Arwen, pointing at a fae’s basket of blue roses. She wondered how they became such a colour.

Rhysand hummed. “They are.”

Grinning, she gripped his arm tighter and pulled him towards the fae selling the flowers. Handing over the silver coin, Arwen brought the blue rose to her nose. It smelt almost salty. Breaking off a portion of the stem, she spun on her heels to face her brother and threaded the flower over his ear. He blinked in surprise, mouth parting. After a moment, he only gave a soft laugh of acceptance.

“Alright,” he said, pressing his hand to her back to guide her forward, “but you must wear flowers as well. I will look foolish if I’m the only one.”

Rather than purchase another blue rose, he took her to a stand that displayed headbands of weaved flowers tied to a thick ribbon. She chose white roses so she would match him, tying the ribbon off underneath her loose hair. “Happy?” she asked.

He wrinkled his nose through a grin and lightly flicked one of the flowers. “Very.”

They continued walking until they found the epicentre of the night markets. Dancers performed, their outfits skin-tight as they bent and twirled in ways that she didn’t know the body could. They sat on the stone ledge that encircled a raised garden to watch them. Arwen was suddenly thrown back to her last celebrated birthday where they sat along the same spot.

She needed this night. Perhaps Rhysand knew that or maybe it was just a coincidence, but Arwen needed to remind herself what it was like to be alive. Every morning she sat up in her bed and stared at herself in the mirror.

These are feelings she could have lost, she would tell herself. She wouldn’t be here with her brother, within the walls of her beloved city. She wouldn’t be alive.

She was fine.

Fine.

Fine.

Fine.

Arwen avoided looking at the stars for how they teased her. Instead, she just watched the dancers. “The others didn’t wish to join tonight?” she inquired.

“They did. They’re probably just coming down about now actually. We might meet with them, or we might not.”

She clasped her hands between her knees, swinging her feet as they hung. “That is very cryptic of you,” she mused, knocking her shoulder into his. Rhysand smiled but gave no response to it. Arwen lifted her chest with a deep breath, blowing out her cheeks as she released it. Her eyes trailed to the black ink beneath the skin, poking out from his collar and sleeves. “I want to make a bargain with you.”

Her request took him by surprise. His eyes widened before narrowing in thought. “A bargain? What about?”

She shrugged, twisting around the skin of her fingers. “I don’t know really. I just… miss having one with you.”

He angled himself toward her, bringing his bent knee onto the stone ledge. “Would you like our Starfall one again?”

That bargain had been made shortly after Rhysand’s accession to High Lord. A promise because Arwen and her mother were visiting him for Starfall when they were attacked. Starfall had lost its meaning and so had that promise. “I’d like something else. Maybe a favour exchange.”

He squinted and reached out to pinch her chin. “We don’t need a bargain for that. I do not consider helping you as a favour.”

She gave a shrug. “I’ll think about it then.” A bargain would tie her here. Something that would act as a new tether. That would give her a new reason. “Perhaps one about entering my mind uninvited,” she added in a slight grumble. “You are growing a habit of the act.”

Rhysand tightened his lips. “If I hadn’t, would have told me everything?”

Arwen looked away. “Eventually,” she answered. “When I felt like it no longer would hurt to talk about.”

“Then it is not a bargain I can make,” he whispered, barely able to be heard over the drums and string instruments. “Because it will never stop hurting. I’m older and wiser than you so trust me on it.”

Her smile at the tease was weak. Taking her hand, Rhysand pulled her down from the ledge. She expected him to follow, but her brother remained seated on the stone. He manoeuvred her to stand in front of him—his height still towering over hers since the ledge was so high. With the fronts of her thighs pressing into the stone lip, Rhysand pulled her into an embrace.

His arms were tight and they were silent. Arwen hooked her chin over his shoulder, her fingers curling around the material of his tunic. Her eyes closed as his hand threaded through her hair, ignoring the eyes she could feel on her back from their audience. They were not heavy or judging. Though she couldn’t see his face, she had the feeling that he was simply watching the world behind her—watching the dancers and his people as he held her.

“I forgive you,” she whispered into the material of his tunic. Anger was exhausting. And Arwen was already so exhausted battling her own thoughts that she couldn’t give one more day to that hot feeling against another. If she wanted to reach any semblance of true happiness, she would need her brother.

The pad of his thumb gave a firm massage to the space behind her ear as he angled to press a kiss to her hair on the other side of her head. “I cannot be sorry. You’re alive and I don’t know if you would be if I hadn’t done what I did. I wouldn’t know what had been hurting you.”

Arwen sunk back to herself, letting him take her hands before they fell to her sides. “I don’t want to feel like that again, Rhys. It was like you were trapping me.” His throat bobbed as he gave the smallest of nods, but true to his word, he offered no apology. “Let me come to you. I promise that if I have something I need to share, I will come to you when I am ready. But you cannot force it out of me.”

“As long as you keep to that promise that you will find me when you need me.”

She smiled softly, the sounds of the festival drowned out. “I escaped five High Fae with two gaping holes in my back, having just seen our mother beheaded and travelled gods know how across Illyria just to find you.” She had to have winnowed that day, Arwen thought. There was no other possible explanation. Her powers must have been coming in and slipped right through their hands like she was nothing more than air and smoke. “And you took care of me when I did, and ever since. So yes, that is a promise you know I can keep.”

He gave up one of her hands to cup her cheek. “Then why did you not come to me earlier?”

Arwen lifted a single shoulder. “I watched you erase me. I did not think you wanted to be found.”