A Court of Shorts and Storys

Wings

I have started to take inspiration from throw away lines in my previous headcanons, this one comes from no red roses when Rhys said he cried the first time he flew after UTM. Topped with a little Cassian towards the end. Enjoy!

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"She is my mate." The first words he had said to his cousin in 50 years, it had been a week from that day. A week of training, answering questions by not answering them. Rhys stod in in his house, his body sore after the training Cassian and him did all day long. All to get him back to the point where he recognize himself again, but there was one thing left... One thing he needed to do.

Rhys summoned his wings, fealing the pain and strain in hid back at the weight of them. He had only have them out that short moment with Feyre, just to show her who he really was, as if the wings would make her recognise the bond. But the strain it took to hold them up... He had not allowed himself to realize how weak he had become in the last 50 years. Rhys spread his wings high and wide, fealing the late summer air against them, fealing the familiar weight of them. He let out a breath and folden them in, the pain returned at the movement. He reaperated the movements again and again, stretching and folding his wings. Letting the joints in them warm up, and remind his body how to use them, how to handel them. He had no concept of time as he stood there. Folding and stretching.

And then he winnowed. As high as he could, high above his home. The wind got caught in his wings letting him glide over the city. Rhys let out a strained breath at the fealing, just gliding was a challenge. Just holding his balance.

For a moment he was back as a child, learing how to fly, his mother by his side...

"Don't use your arms, they don't help!" She said, Rhys looked at his side, his adult arms was spread out with the wings. "And look where you are going!" He looked straight ahead, to the south. Spring layed there, far beyond the horizon.

"Mom..." Rhys whispered into the air "I have found my Mate, and she... She is fearless, bold, beautiful, cunning. All the things you said she would be..." He got no answers from his memories. Instead they said.

"Beat your wings, lift higher!" Rhys did, grunting at the fealing of his body being puled up, his breath strained and his heart was beating as hard as it could.

He was flying again, he was there in the sky, flying... It would take time before he could take of from the ground again, but he could do it. Rhys let his tears fall from the pain in his back wings, and the memory of his mother. Rhys kept gliding in circles only beating his wings when absolutely necessary. Hissing at the pain, and at the fealing of the wind in his face.

He came lower just a tree length over the city, realizing that his people stood on the streets pointing up. And her could hear there thoughts loud and clear.

The High Lord flies over us again, He is back to guard us! He let out a string of his power, making the night sky feal more alive. He made a new beat with his wings, letting the wind from them carry him up towards the night sky. For a moment he was who he once where. The High Lord of the Night, the protector of Velaris, the illyrian, the High Fae. He was Rhys. And nothing else.

And maybe it was the bond, and the wish to have Feyre here. For for a short moment, he saw her eyes and face at his side, as if she was flying besides him. Not in his arms, not behind him. Besides him, as his equal. Rhys winnowed to the mountains, landing before his mothers and sisters grave. Sinking down on his knees before them, his wings resting on the ground.

"I found my mate." He said again. "And... And she don't know it." He had never explain it all for Mor, she had just figured it out. But here, here he could tell them about Feyre. He told them about her hands, about the fire living inside her, her bravery, her quick thinking.

"She is amazing, and you would love her. But..." Rhys looked up at the night sky. "But she is love with another..." He refused to say his name over there graves. The male responsible for them existing.
"And I will hope she finds happiness in him."

He winnowed back up in the sky above the House of Winds, gliding down to the rings, hoping to get some extra exercises in before Cassian and Azriel joined him. But his brother and General stood there, waiting.

"Out of breath Rhys?" He teased, Rhys didn't comment back, his heard was still working hard and he focused on not panting to loudly as he landed. "Wings today?"

"Yes." He said, holing his tone short to not give away how out of breath he was after his flight.

"How long is it? Since you last flew?" Cassian's voice changed from teasing to serius, almost with a hint of sadness

"50 years, I flew out from House of Winds before winnowing to the mountain..." He said, doing the exercises for wings just as they had been taught when they where young. Folding and stretching them, holding them high and low.

"It is there, in the muscle memory. You will find it again." Cassian did the same exercises, unknowing that he did. The reflex to do them was just there. Lingering after years of training.

"I did... But damn it hurts! I had forgot about that part." He rolled his shoulders to realise the tension that had started to build there. "It have been to long."

"50 years are to long for anything." Cass said in return, the words having more meaning behind them.

"I visited there graves." Rhys then said, pausing his movements. He wanted to try to be more open whit what he was doing and fealing. Even if there where things he could never fully share. But he could share this. "I flew and windowed to there graves..."

"We all have been there, asking them to watch over you, to keep you safe." Cass said, his voice filed with sorrow. "I have been there once every month, even more in darker years." Rhys looked away, out over the city.

"I... I never allowed myself to think about them down there... Never wanted the memory of them to mix whit the darkness down there..." He let out a breath.

"Even in death you protect them." his brothers response made Rhys shake. His strength failing him and his wings falling to the ground.

"But not in life..." He let out a sob, this was the most he had let Cassian see of his feelings in the last week.

"Brother." Cass hand landed over Rhys Shoulder, the steady hand grounding him to reality. "You have done more then what can be asked of you. You have given more of you then anyone expected." Rhys led back an instinct to laugh. He had given his body, his mind, his powers to save them. The only thing he never gave was his life. But it was not far of.

"We have work to do." Rhys got up, swallowing his tears. "We will need the Illyrians on our side when the real battle comes."

"Are you sure that will hapen?"

"She was only the start." Rhys got his wings up, moving them high to sit in the proper position. "I will need your help to gain my straights back, so I can stand in the Camps and not be looked down on."

"You are already looked down on." Cass teased. "Shortie."

"Shot it." Rhys said back. But walked over to the ring. "I am not asking you again."

"You never need to ask Brother." 

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What do you think of this? 

Works every day this summer, and has therefore not had time to go through the latest headcanons so carefully for misspellings and grammar misses. Hope to have time to do it afterwards. But wanted to post these two in a row right away instead of waiting for a week. (have a pretty fun planned for next week)

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/Mymymoon