Chapter 61 - Pity the Men

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"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog."

- Mark Twain

Song: Bad Guy - Billie Eilish

Gwyn threw back her shoulders, chin held high as the two guards who gripped her by her elbows dragged her to walk alongside Graysen and Elain.

"Faerie," Graysen said, throwing a look at Gwyn. "Let's review..."

Crossing the lawn Gwyn's eyes met Tamlin's then Feyre's then Rhysand's. The High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, she prayed, were breaking their vows not to read the minds of their friends. She hoped they were at least peeking at her thoughts.

"Careful with your words, Graysen," Elain said softly. "They can hear you."

Graysen seemed to regard Elain's advice, albeit begrudgingly. He gave her a curt bob of the head before turning back to Gwyn. "Do your part without hesitation. The moment I say the word."

Feyre met Gwyn's stare and the High Lady's brows furrowed. If she was rifling through Gwyn's mind then she could see the full extent of Elain's treachery. Gwyn couldn't imagine a worse heart ache than being betrayed by your own sister.

At last, the High Lords and Lady met them halfway down the lawn.

Gwyn's heart pounded, her blood sang, the setting sun seemed to saturate her bones. She did not reach for her magic. She tried to ignore it. Suppress it.

"We are ready and willing to end this bloodlessly," Tamlin said. "So state your terms, Lord Graysen."

Graysen wasted no time and looked over to Gwyn. "If you will."

The bargain mark on Gwyn's arm tingled and she spoke the words with as much conviction as she could muster. "Tell your men to stand down. The three of you will adhere to the orders of Lord Graysen without question and act as his allies in all matters. You serve Lord Graysen."

Immediately Feyre, Rhysand, and Tamlin sank to one knee and behind them, so did all of their reinforcements.

Gwyn trembled, staring down with wide eyes at her High Lord and Lady, heads bowed in submission. Her hands, still chained in front of her, were shaking.

Elain reached over, gripped her bicep and gave it a comforting squeeze. When Gwyn met her eyes, she saw that they were shining with tears. "I told you that you could do it."

Gwyn turned away, her gaze shifting to Azriel, whose fist was over his heart, head bowed. His free hand rested on the hilt of Truth-Teller, the shadows on his shoulders remained thick and menacing.

"Very good." Graysen turned to the guards flanking Gwyn. "I'm a man of my word. Remove the faerie's chains. It will behave, I'm sure."

The guard beside Gwyn moved to stand in front of her, unlocking the cuffs of her chains... and drawing Elain's eyes to the bargain mark.

The mark that had remained despite Gwyn's orders.

Elain's gaze snapped to her own bargain mark, and her jaw dropped.

When Elain had described her visions as paintings with the details in "the foliage" Gwyn had known she had to proceed with caution. That she would have to follow Elain's charted course to a point and then break off.

In the end, Elain's "painting" remained the same. Everyone was bending the knee to Graysen. The cause however... well, it wasn't out of allegiance. If Elain peered into "the foliage" she may have seen that all the Fae knelt because Rhysand had issued a silent command ordering them to do so.

Elain's eyes were lined with silver. "We... we made deal."

"You didn't say when I had to do it, Elain," Gwyn said quietly.

Perhaps if Elain had embraced her new fae roots more she would've known to be specific with the words she chose when making a bargain...

Graysen's brows knitted together. He faced the both of them, slowly piecing together their conversation. Clearly his knowledge of bargain marks was scanty.

"What have you done?" Elain gasped.

Rhysand's head was still bowed when he said: "Tell your men to go home."

Beside Elain, Graysen's posture stiffened, his eyes glazed, Rhysand's own powers of compulsion taking hold of the young lord's mind.

Elain's face drained of color, and for a moment, Gwyn thought it was from Graysen's loss.

But Elain had never really cared about Graysen's victory. She'd only cared that those she loved lived...

The young lord turned to his men, and they all straightened, readying themselves.

When Graysen gave the order to stand down - as Rhysand had commanded him to do - his men did the opposite...

As though someone had prepared them for exactly this. As though someone had told them exactly what Rhysand was capable of.

Elain turned to Gwyn, her expression horrified. "I told you that you were the only way that this could end bloodlessly." A pause where Gwyn couldn't breathe. "You've as good as killed him."

Azriel.

Then pellets and pouches of faebane flew, the reinforcements rose to their feet, and battle ensued.

** Tomorrow's chapter is LONG SO BUCKLE UP

ALSO, I'm considering doing a tiktok live when this whole thing is up and posted. We can talk about the fic and my upcoming Gwynriel/Elucien fic. Gwynriel headcanons, ACOTAR, and whatnot. Would anyone be interested in that?

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