Chapter Text
Rhysand winnowed directly onto the long leather couch that adorned the main living area in the house Lucien had secured for him and his commanders. Cassian and Azriel snapped to attention immediately, quickly scanning their High Lord for any injuries. Not many things could cause harm to a fae of Rhysand's power, but the Illyrians knew better than to become complacent while in the midst of enemy territory. It was during this assessment that the two boys noticed Rhysand's little (if it can be called that) problem.
Cassian barked out a laugh, "Is it Azriel, or are you happy to see me?"
"Please, like he'd ever be happy to see your ugly mug."
Cassian grinned devilishly and crossed his muscular arms, "I recall you getting hard for me while we were in the sauna after last year's-"
"That very obviously wasn't for you," Rhysand clipped, scoffing as he smoothed down his clothes.
"God, you two need some help," Azriel muttered as his eyes looked out the window. He was always trained to look for a threat. His fingers tensed and untensed, feeling restless with the Calanmai festivities ahead of them.
Rhysand crossed the room, breathing heavier than usual, and rested his hands on the large wooden table in the dining room.
"What? We're just going to ignore that?" Cassian chimed back in, still grimacing at Rhysand's hard-on. Rhysand's violet eyes flashed in warning to him, making Cassian put his hands up in mock surrender.
"Did you find anything?" Azriel asked, turning his attention back to Rhysand, who looked angrier and tenser than the last time he saw the High Lord.
"I mean, obviously, he found something… " Cassian muttered, expertly ignoring the icy glare Rhysand directed his way.
"No. I…miscalculated. It appears the preparations for Calanmai are much more…singular than we had anticipated."
"More singular? What the hell is that supposed to mean? And I thought you were winnowing directly into the bedroom; what kind of preparations could you have- oh," Cassian's eyes grew large, and then he let out a helpless snort. "Oh no. No, no, no, Rhys, please tell me you saw what I think you saw."
Azriel looked stricken, "I changed my mind. I'm sure you were just very, very excited to see Cassian because I know that you would never get a raging hard-on for the man who murdered your sister ."
"YOU THINK I WANTED TO POP A BONER?! YOU THINK I WANT TO FEEL ATTRACTED TO THAT BEAST?" Rhysand roared, and for the first time in a very, very long time, Cassian and Azriel felt an inkling of fear.
Rhysand took a deep breath, "Look. That doesn't matter. At least now Tamlin won't question my absence at the festival tonight when he is guaranteed to be out of his chambers. I can search then."
Azriel studied him closely. "And what of us? What will you have us do?"
Rhysand made a fist at his side, nearly biting his gums to stop the aching pain from his erection, but he had to remain professional. "Ensure that all Spring dignitaries stay at the festival, that's all I ask. I can handle the rest."
Cassian sighed and rested back on the couch, using his arms as a pillow. "Easy enough, I think Azriel and I could use the break."
"I think Lucien is suspicious," Azriel noted as he looked at Rhysand.
Rhysand's lips grew into a smirk, "Then give him a distraction. That seemed to work well enough for Tamlin."
Cassian's eyes popped open from his impending nap, and his eyebrows furrowed, "What exactly did you do to him?"
"I merely showed the pathetic alpha what his place was."
"By getting hard?" Cassian drawled, unimpressed.
Rhysand used his shadows to throw the book at Cassian, who caught it with his face.
"Ha! You missed!" Cassian declared smugly, earning himself a serious side eye from Azriel.
"I am surrounded by morons," Azriel scoffed. "Complete and utter morons."
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Adelina watched her reflection in the mirror as she fastened a simple pearl earring to her ear, her mind deep in thought. She was dressed in a flowy green gown, embroidered daisies sweeping the fabric near her feet.
Calanmai was a lively celebration for the Spring Court but a hollow shadow of a memory for the family of Spring. Adelina had grown up watching her father and his men prepare for the occasion, always loud, rowdy, and drunk, before her father adorned himself in leathers and jewels and sought out to the woods for his conquest. She hadn't been allowed to know much of the occasion when she was little. Even when she entered her teen years, her mother tried her hardest to keep the rituals of the occasion away from her.
"There's dangerous magic involved, Adelina. You could get hurt, and your father and I would be devastated if anything happened to you. Just stay inside, and you'll be safe."
Her brothers, on the other hand, had been allowed to attend every year since they turned twelve, often joining in with the rambunctious festivities and bringing back women. While her family celebrated their court proudly, surrounded by fae, Adelina was expected to keep to herself.
When Lucien came to the Spring Court, he always tried to check on her at least once, going as far as to bring her the scrumptious food from the grand feast. Adelina would pretend to be perfectly content, using the extra time to catch up on her reading, but she hardly slept on the Night of Calanmai. Not when she heard the loud music from the campfire or the obnoxious rumblings of her brothers when they came home with guests.
But the worst part of the celebration by far was the following day when her family sat down for a late breakfast. Adelina's brothers would be gleaming from ear to ear, restored with energy, while her mother sat at one end of the table, lips pursed and a faraway look in her eyes. Her father was nowhere to be seen, often not showing up until the evening after Calanmai, at worst, a day or two after.
By 16, she had taken it upon herself to find out the truth and had snuck into her father's library while everyone else was away, stealing the one book she figured would have the answers - her father's journal.
They hadn't been close since.
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Lucien could only watch as Tamlin effortlessly charmed yet another young maiden. He looked on, slightly shocked, as Tamlin leaned in close, pressing his nose into Lady Peony's neck and taking a moment to revel in her scent. Peony's face, which had been a pleasant pink throughout the duration of their conversation, had turned a startling scarlet.
"Forgive me for being so straightforward, but your scent is simply delicious, my Lady. You must understand, it can be quite difficult for me to control my instincts around this time. It was the same for my father; our inner Alpha howls for release, and it is all I can do not to devour you on the spot. But I suppose I can wait a few hours more."
Peony flushed even darker, "My Lord," she gasped.
"Shhh, later," Tamlin murmured, his eyes dark.
Lucien gaped, Lady Peony was not the first girl Tamlin had charmed that night; she wasn't even the fifth. It was hard to believe that this was the man who had drowned the manor in magic earlier. The potent rage of Tamlin's magic had crashed over the manor so suddenly, and so strongly it had forced Lucien to his knees. The servants had been driven to the floor, gasping for air as their bodies were crushed under the force of such heavy, oppressive magic. Tamlin's roar had shaken the very foundation on which the manor had been built, causing windows to shatter and paintings to fall.
Later, the servants worked on repairing the damages caused by their High Lord's outburst, keeping their heads lowered submissively as they silently fixed what was broken.
Lucien was the one who had to face him, and even now, he couldn't begin to comprehend what he saw. Tamlin was sitting on his throne, the air around him crackling with magic, reflecting his mood. His eyes were twin flames of burning rage, but his body was perfectly controlled. He sat tall and regal upon his throne, the picture of a perfect Alpha, a perfect High Lord. When he spoke, his voice was firm and commanding, demanding Lucien's attention as he detailed all that still needed to be completed before the ceremony began.
It was hard to believe that this Prince Charming was the same righteous Alpha from before, and Lucien couldn't help but wonder what had happened between breakfast and his Alpha's loss of composure.
As the sun began to dim, his servants finished putting the finishing touches on the banquet table and the last flower garlands in the air. Lucien noted every detail, making sure nothing went unnoticed. Guests began to gather and mingle, reacquainting themselves with old and new friends. Some went straight for the garden dance floor, while others preferred to dive in on pheasant.
His eyes softened, and he smiled when he saw Adelina escorted into the gardens by Hannan.
"Sir Lucien," One of their courtiers came to his side; Lucien looked to him. "The High Lords of the Summer and Night Courts and their company have arrived."
Lucien glanced over to see the three Illyrians enter the festivities, wings spread high and wide, devious expressions on their faces. The Spring fae moved away from them, clearing a path for the three, too afraid to cross any of them. Rhysand met Lucien’s gaze and winked.
"Thank you, Simon," Lucien nodded before going over to them immediately, sighing in dread. "Rhysand," his voice was anything but exciting.
"Now, I thought we addressed this issue of your manners earlier," Rhysand tisked, Lucien was anything but amused.
"Certainly. You are an honored guest, as are your…friends. But please, do be sure to behave."
"Is that how you would refer to what your High Lord is doing?" Azriel cocked his head to the side in challenge. Rhysand looked at the male as if he had stolen his comeback.
Lucien glanced to see Tamlin putting a strand of hair behind another maiden's ear as she giggled profusely, looking up at the blonde with stars in her eyes. Another maiden clung onto Tamlin's biceps, feeling him up.
Cassian clicked his tongue in disgust.
"This occasion revolves around him and our court. We are more than pleased to have all of the High Lords in attendance this year, including Night." Lucien looked at them seriously, "I do appreciate your efforts to keep the peace amongst us; enjoy your evening." He bowed before leaving them, curling his fists beside him as he stomped away in the itchy grass.
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"Enjoy your evening," Cassian mimicked ridiculously as Lucien strolled away from them, doing a silly curtesy.
Azriel elbowed him, "Time and place, Cass." He sighed as he overlooked the large crowd of guests. "He wasn't kidding. Every High Lord is in attendance, even Beron."
Rhysand's eyes were locked on Tamlin and the two fair maidens who threw themselves at him.
"You're so strong, High Lord!" One giggled as she continued to clutch onto his arm.
"You do such a good job protecting us!" The other smiled profusely, her cheeks flushed as Tamlin nibbled on her ear, the action making Rhysand feel…strange, but his breathing shifted when Tamlin looked at him. Whether he was surprised to see him, Rhysand couldn't tell, the thought eddying his mind when Tamlin cupped the brunette's nape and kissed her roughly.
Rhysand felt his power flow through him, threatening to burst from his control.
"That's just gross." Cassian looked at Tamlin with disgust.
"Cassian," Rhysand ordered.
"Oh, come on, that's-"
"Shut up." Rhysand turned to him and took a step forward, eyes dark; Cassian's hazel eyes widened. Rhysand calmed his expression as he took a step closer and narrowed his eyes before focusing on Cassian alone, "Kiss me."
"I beg your-"
Another step closer, Rhysand almost put his hand around Cassian's waist but was blocked when the male's wings flared as if he were flinching. Rhysand smirked, "You said you make me hard, didn't you? Do me a solid, now."
Cassian's cheeks flushed as he faltered, and his mouth opened, trying to think of a proper response to his High Lord and best friend, "N-No homo," he held his hands up in defense. "I meant, in the sense that-"
Azriel rolled his eyes, "God, you're such a wimp, Cassian."
Rhysand was swiftly pulled into Azriel's arms, where he was pulled flush against his Spy Master's chest. Only the hand he held against Azriel's broad chest kept them apart.
"Come on now, Rhys," Azriel murmured with a soft grin, eyes on Rhysand's, "You should know by now that I'm the only one who can get anything done properly around here."
A big smile etched itself across Rhysand's face, "Ah, right, of course. How silly of me."
Azriel gently tucked a stray piece of hair back into Rhysand's artfully styled hair. Letting his palm rest against his cheek as he leaned in to rest his forehead against Rhysand's.
Azriel's eyes seemed to search Rhysand's as he hovered his lips a breadth width away.
"I better be getting a good bonus out of all of this shit."
Rhysand's laugh was cut off by Azriel's lips meeting his in a deep and sensual kiss, the kind shared between the closest of lovers. Azriel allowed the kiss to last for several moments before pulling away just far enough to murmur against Rhysand's lips,
"You better find what you're looking for tonight. All of these flowers are making me sick."
Rhysand lifted his hand, dragging it across Azriel's bottom lip, his eyes blazing with determination.
"I will."
Rhysand pulled away, walking swiftly past a gaping Cassian.
"Damn, Az, you kiss all the ladies like that?"
"Oomph!"
Cassian huffed as Azriel dug his elbow into Cassian sharply, "Focus. We've got work to do."