Chapter Text
As soon as Mor stepped out of the ether, a sense of unease fell over her. Glancing around the village, nothing appeared out of place at first glance. In the distance, near the central square, she could see several winged figures milling about, likely making their way to and from the tavern. Snow was piled around the doorways and under windows of various shops and homes where it had been swept aside to clear the street. The usual sounds of chatter and drunken laughter could be heard. Nothing seemed wrong, but she felt it.
Reaching back into the ether, she withdrew her favorite twin blades, slim and sleek, meant to be discreet and tucked them against the inside of her forearm to avoid notice as she carefully made her way down the street, her eyes scanning everything, searching for the source of her unease.
She hadn't thought much of it when Rhys had asked her to come here, though the request itself had been a bit strange. Cassian or Azriel could have accomplished the task just as easily. Her cousin had been insistent though. There had been the occasional incident since the Valkyrie had not only survived but won the Blood Rite last Spring and, while Emerie was usually perfectly capable of handling it, some assholes would stop by now and then to cause trouble in her shop and Rhys liked to have one of them drop by periodically to remind the citizens of Windhaven that Emerie was under the Night Court's protection.
Now, she was starting to wonder if it had been some other worry that had driven him to have someone visit Emerie to assuage his worry.
She still saw nothing to alarm her until she drew close enough to Emerie's shop to see it's door... which stood partially open, letting in the chilly night air. Her unease ratcheted up higher and she quickly sprinted to the door, shoving it the rest of the way open as she burst into the shop. There was no light, not even a single candle, and the shop was freezing, a light dusting of snow covering a foot or so past the open doorway, letting her know it must have been left open for some time. Emerie was not prone to be so irresponsible from what she knew of the female, and Mor fought to stem the rising sense of panic she felt.
"Emerie?" she called out into the darkness, raising her blades and taking stock of her surroundings. Her senses detected no one about and rather than making her relax, it only made her more sure that something was terribly wrong as she detected the lingering scents of several males. And blood.
She pushed further into the shop, calling out the girl's name again and willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Her foot stepped on something soft and she immediately jumped back, looking down at the floor. Her heart stopped.
A soft brown hand peeked out from behind a display, a woven bracelet of green and purple thread around the wrist..
"Oh, gods." Mor hurried around the display, choking on her breath when she found Emerie's body sprawled out on the floor, her face bruised and bloody, a deep gash on her cheek and one of her legs laying at an odd angle. Dismissing her blades she quickly reached down to scoop the female up, the movement a bit awkward as her battered wings trailed on the ground beneath her. Just before she winnowed out, she remembered the open door and sent a bolt of magic towards it, shutting and locking it so the shop would remain undisturbed, then returned them both to Velaris.
"Rhys!" Mor shouted as she stumbled through the front door of the River House, Emerie's limp form still clutched in her arms. "Rhys!"
Rhys and Feyre ran into the dining room just as she laid Emerie out on the table, knocking the vase of flowers Elain had undoubtedly left there to the floor. She heard Feyre gasp as she hurried over, quickly examining her injuries. More running footsteps approached and Mor glanced over her shoulder to see Elain and Lucien round the corner. The Autumn court male must have arrived a few days early for his usual visit. She supposed that meant he and his estranged mate were making progress, but she did not have the patience or the mind to dwell on that currently. As soon as he assessed the situation, Lucien strode forward, rolling up his sleeves. Belatedly, she remembered the male had some healing abilities. Reluctantly, she stepped out of his way.
"What happened?" he asked, his metal eye scanning Emerie as he reached up to mend the gash on her cheek before gently prodding through her hair for any head injuries.
"I'm not sure. I found her like that on the ground of her shop," she explained, only just realizing she was shaking. Her hands clenched into fists at her side as she turned to Rhys who was watching everything from the doorway with a dark expression. "The door had been left partially open but didn't seem to have been broken in so it must have happened while she still had the place open. There were no lights and the whole room was an ice box so I'd guess it was at least an hour or so ago."
She swallowed the bile in her throat as she finally comprehended that she'd been lying there like that for hours and probably would have remained so for even longer had Rhys not sent Mor to check on her. It seemed none of her neighbors had been concerned about the door that had been left open, or the fact there were no lights inside even after dark. She might have frozen to death in the room, injured and alone.
Rhys' gaze turned distant and she knew he must have been reaching out to Cassian or Azriel, possibly Nesta to let them know what was happening. A soft moan drew her attention back to the table. Aside from the blood that still covered her face, the open wound on her cheek had been closed, and her broken nose had been righted, all trace of violence gone from her pretty face. Lucien had begun to set her leg while Feyre continued to run her hands over her body, checking for other injury. Mor wondered if she should go to fetch Madja. Lucien and Feyre both had healing magic and could handle small injuries, but with as much damage as she suspected Emerie had suffered, they needed a competent healer.
Elain, it seemed, had anticipated this as well, as she suddenly appeared in the doorway again, the old faerie trailing behind her. She hadn't even noticed her leaving.
Madja moved over to the table, shooing the other two away, unfazed by speaking so to her High Lady. Emerie began to stir as Madja looked her over, her dark brow scrunching and full lips twisting into a grimace. It was a hell of a time for Mor to be thinking of the female's beauty, but she'd been taken with her since they had first, officially, met at Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony back in the Spring. She'd never quite worked up the nerve to properly flirt with her, feeling unsure about dallying with someone her entire family was acquainted with. What if she had misread her and she was not, in fact, interested in females? What if she wasn't interested in her? Worse yet, what if she was interested?
After a long overdue conversation with Azriel a few months ago when he'd begun courting Nesta's friend and fellow Valkyrie, Gwyneth, she'd finally worked up the courage to confess to her preference for females. Her family had taken it instride which, in hindsight, should not have been as surprising as it had been. Still, she hadn't quite been able to bring herself to start openly dating a female. It was one thing for her friends to know but, if word got back to her father...
She shook away her run away thoughts, refocusing on the current moment as Emerie's dark eyes fluttered open. Good timing too as she heard the front door burst open and several more people stumbled into the room. Nesta shoved past everyone, marching over to her friend's side, a familiar redhead on her heels. Cassian and Azriel remained in the doorway beside Rhys, each male's posture tense and angry.
"What happened?" Azriel's dark voice promised violence, sending a shiver through Mor. This time, though, rather than doing so out of discomfort, she felt her own need for violence answering. Whoever had done this would pay and pay dearly.
"We're not sure yet," Rhys said as they watched Emerie glance around in obvious confusion while Madja and her friends spoke softly to her. "She only just woke."
Gwyn glanced up from where she'd been crouching near her friend's head, stroking raven curls out of her face. At some silent signal from her, Rhys moved forward until Emerie's gaze found him.
"Hello, Emerie. Don't be alarmed, you're in my home. Morrigan brought you here." Mor straightened as those earthy brown eyes turned her way. A slight flush stained her cheeks the longer she stared until Rhys' voice regained her attention. "We were hoping you could help us piece together what happened to you. If you're not up to speaking, you can show me, if you would like."
Emerie blinked at him a few times, her expression blank until his meaning must have sank in and she nodded. Rhys smiled reassuringly, slowly reaching out his hand to touch her temple but she did not flinch. He did not need to touch her, Mor knew, but for those unfamiliar with Rhys' power, it could be unsettling the first time they felt him inside their minds and physical touch seemed to make them more at ease. He was silent for a long moment as she observed whatever memory she showed him. Something terrifying flitted over his face before he covered it with a smile as he drew back.
"Thank you," he said, inclining his head. "Madja here will take good care of you and heal any injuries you have, for now I'll leave you with her and your friends."
"Thank you," Emerie croaked as Rhys turned back towards the door. His gaze caught Mor's as he passed, indicating he wished for her to join him. She gave Emerie one last look, startled to find the female watching her, before she followed her cousin and the other two Illyrians to Rhys' study.
"Who do I have to kill?" Nesta seethed as everyone cleared out of the room but her, Gwyn and the healer. The High Lady had followed her mate and the rest of their inner circle out of the room, probably to discuss what she'd just shown the High Lord. Nesta's other sister and the red haired male she knew to be her mate had slipped quietly out a few moments before that.
Emerie gave her friends a wan smile. Though she was in considerably less pain than she had been before she blacked out, her head still pounded. "Could I have some water?" she asked, ignoring her question. After reliving the horrific scene over again just now, she was not yet ready to relive it again.
Gwyn, who was always calmer and more understanding smiled and fetched her a glass from somewhere nearby, helping her take a sip. Nesta continued to scowl, folding her arms over her chest.
"It was your brute of an uncle, wasn't it?"
"Nes, please," Gwyn said gently. "Let her rest, you can interrogate her after she's done healing. The High Lord already knows what happened, I'm sure she'll send Cassian and Azriel after whoever it was."
Something like a snarl escaped her friend and she knew from the flash of silver in her eyes that Nesta would rather take care of it herself. So would she, truth be told, but after the beating she'd taken earlier, she was just happy to be alive. If it had been her uncle, she could have handled him. The male had been understandably upset over his son's death and had once accused her of having something to do with it, despite the official story they'd been given, but he was smart enough not to mess with her given her status as both a Valkyrie and a Carynthian. Her connection to the High Lord through his sister-in-law afforded her a tentative level of protection from most who did not wish to risk the High Lord's wrath.
There were several males, mostly the younger ones who were still bitter and humiliated at having been bested by a group of females in the Blood Rite that occasionally gave her trouble. Today, after apparently spending most of the day in the tavern, several of them had decided to pay her shop a visit. She'd been outnumbered and though she'd held her own and landed a few blows, she'd been quickly overpowered. They'd laughed and hurled insults at her as they kicked and beat her until her brain shut her body down to avoid the pain. In those last few seconds before the world had gone dark, she was sure she'd never see the light again.
Unbidden, her mind conjured up the image of the High Lord's third as she'd stood a few feet away, her beautiful features pulled in a tight expression, golden eyes blazing with fury. She'd looked like a vengeful angel, ready to do battle on her behalf and the thought did strange things to her equilibrium. Hell, anytime she thought of the gorgeous female it threw her off kilter. She was always surprised she could speak to her without getting tongue tied whenever she joined the Valkyries for training or happened to run into her and her sisters on their occasional trips into Velaris for lunch or to visit the bookstore. The little excursions had begun when Gwyn had finally decided she was ready to venture outside of the library and she had gradually become more and more comfortable being around other people besides her fellow priestesses and the other inhabitants of the House of Wind. Morrigan had been a big part of that, enthusiastically introducing them to the city she so clearly loved while remaining sensitive and sympathetic to Gwyn's reticence.
While she'd always admired Morrigan from afar, she'd quickly fallen hopelessly for the blonde who had likely never thought twice about her. Not with the number of good looking males (and females) who were always fawning over her. Every time they saw her out, it seemed there was at least one person vying for her affections. With everything the female had going for as a member of the ruling family and a high ranking member of the Inner Circle, someone like Emerie never stood a chance.
"What?" Mor hissed the word at her cousin who looked back at her impassively. "I'm the one who found her, you have no idea what that was like, you only saw up until she passed out. I promise you they did not stop once she was unconscious." Once again she had to swallow the urge to vomit as she thought about what Emerie had been through, especially after Rhys shared with them what he'd gotten from Emerie's mind. "I will be going after those bastards. You won't leave me out of that."
"Morrigan," Rhys' tone brooked no argument. "I understand your desire- I assure you, Feyre and I share it. But this is Illyrian business. It will be a delicate enough matter to handle for Cassian and Azriel without involving an outsider." Mor growled, baring her teeth but he ignored her. "Besides, as I said, I have another job for you."
She crossed her arms over her chest. "And what is that?" Both Rhys and Feyre's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief she didn't care for.
"There may still be some backlash for Emerie once her attackers have been dealt with. So, for her safety, I'd like her to remain away from Windhaven for a short while. Since I can't imagine she'll be as at home in the Library as her friend, I thought perhaps you might take her to Athelwood with you when you leave. I know you don't care to be alone for long, and I'm sure Emerie would appreciate the quiet, open country as a change of scenery from the village in Windhaven."
Mor stilled as a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swept through her. The most prominent of which, was the sensation in her stomach like she'd been dropped from a tall height. Her heart was in a freefall of nervous anticipation. This could either be the best or worst idea her cousin had ever had. Judging by the glimmer of amusement in his gaze, she could guess which one he favored.
Gwyn fussed over Emerie, who was now almost fully healed thanks to the skills of the old fae healer who had attended her the night before, while Nesta watched with some amusement from the doorway. She had to resist the urge to swat her friend's hands away when she began to readjust the collar of her coat for about the tenth time.
Apparently, the High Lord had sent to have some of her things fetched while she'd been sleeping, and a small canvas bag containing a few changes of clothing and a few essentials now sat at the foot of the bed in the room she'd stayed the night in. Shortly after she'd finished eating breakfast in her rooms, the High Lady had stopped by to inform her that she was being sent away from Windhaven for the time being for her own safety. It was just past noon now, and Morrigan would be arriving any moment to collect her to take her to some undisclosed location for the next two weeks until Solstice, when they would be returning to Velaris.
Her friends knew of her crush on the Night Court's third after coaxing it out of her during one of their sleep overs, her friends- or at least Gwyn (ever the romantic)- had decided this was the perfect opportunity. They seemed to think the forced proximity of spending the next two weeks isolated together, the ideal setting for a romantic story straight out of one of their novels
Emerie was less convinced, thinking that it was, perhaps, an exercise in folly to be thrown into the company of the woman who had starred in nearly every daydream and nightly fantasy since the first time she'd laid eyes on her. She was sure to humiliate herself in some way or other.
But, as they heard the sound of a familiar voice downstairs, she supposed there was nothing for it.
Gwyn wrapped her up in a tight hug that made her still sore ribs groan in protest. "Good luck! I know you're not happy about being away from your shop for so long but, please, try to take some time to enjoy yourself." She pulled back to give her a mischievous smile. "And then be sure to give us all the dirty details when you get back."
Emerie just rolled her eyes.
Nesta only offered her a smirk and a quick hug before she was ushered downstairs to where Morrigan waited for her.
Standing in the foyer, with the sun streaming in through the stained glass windows surrounding the front door, Morrigan seemed to glow with an otherworldly light that momentarily took her breath away.
When she caught sight of Emerie descending the stairs, she turned away from her conversation with the High Lord and Lady to offer a warm smile. "Are you ready?" she asked, glancing down at her bag.
Stopping a foot away, Emerie fidgeted a bit awkwardly. Her head still ached and her body was sore all over, though the worst of her injuries had been healed, it would still be another day or so before she felt back to normal.
"Yes," she said, nodding once before turning to her hosts. "Thank you, for everything you've done for me... I'm not sure I deserve such attention, but I am grateful for it."
They both smiled kindly. "You have been a good friend to my sister," the High Lady told her. "It was the very least we could do after everything you have been through."
"Please," the High Lord said, taking a step forward and offering his hand to her. She took it and he enfolded it in both of his, giving her a smile full of the charm he was so famous for. She couldn't quite stop the blush that warmed her cheeks. "I don't want you to worry about anything for the next few weeks. You've more than earned a bit of rest and relaxation. My cousin will take good care of you, while Cassian, Azriel and I will ensure that all will be well when you return."
Emerie wasn't sure what they could possibly accomplish in two weeks that they had not already managed in the centuries the High Lord had been in power. She was not sure the Illyrians would ever change. The thought was one she did not have the energy to contemplate at the moment, so she merely smiled tightly and turned back to Morrigan. "Shall we?"
Morrigan exchanged a glance with her cousin before holding out her hand. With one last look back at the sisters of her heart- both of whom grinned at her- Emerie placed her hand in hers, inhaling sharply at the spark that seemed to pass between them the moment they touched.
Morrigan's golden gaze met hers a second before they disappeared into darkness.
A moment later, they emerged on a small grassy knoll, the wind blowing the hair back, out of her face. Glancing around, Emerie's mouth dropped open slightly as she took in their surroundings.
They seemed to be on an modest sized estate with a cozy looking red brick home about three stories tall and eight windows wide. A small, but neatly kept garden wrapped around one corner of the house, a small paddock where she could see a few horses grazing sat outside a well appointed stable and, in the far distance, she could see- "the ocean."
She'd never properly seen the sea before, aside from the glimpses of it she'd caught in Velaris at the end of the winding Sidra. She'd never had a chance to actually visit, despite the amount of time she now spent in the city with her friends. Here though, it only appeared to be a short distance away, perhaps an hour or so's walk, and she had a sudden urge to go and sink her feet into the sand.
Turning back to Morrigan, she found the blonde surveying it all with obvious pride. The smile she turned on her seemed to light her from within. "Welcome to my home."