YOUNG GOD | RHYSAND [ON HOLD]

1.09 | THE LAST DAY IN SPRING

♚✭♛

Aadya never wanted to get lost in a some faraway distant land. But with two immortal creatures antagonising eachother like children made her want to.

"High Lord," Rhysand crooned, inclining his head slightly. Not a bow.

Tamlin remain seated. His voice was laced with the promise of violence as he said, "What do you want, Rhysand?"

Feyre watched in a mixture of fear and curiosity. She watched as Aadya was breathing heavily and didn't miss the worried eyes of Tamlin and the stranger -Rhysand- often drifting to her in what looked like concern.

Rhysand smiled--heartbreaking in its beauty-- and put a hand on his chest. "Rhysand? Come on now, Tamlin. I don't see you for forty-nine years, and you start calling me Rhysand? Only my prisoners and my enemies call me that. Only Aadya can call me that" His grin widened as he finished, and something in his countenance turned feral and deadly, when he saw Aadya open her eyes at her name. Rhysand gave her an arrogant smirk and turned as ran an eye over Lucien. "A fox mask. Appropriate for you, Lucien."

"Go to Hell, Rhys," Lucien snapped.

"Always a pleasure dealing with the rabble," Rhysand said, as walked to backside of Aadya of chair and put his hands on her shoulders as he faced Tamlin again. "I hope I wasn't interrupting."

"We were in the middle of lunch," Tamlin said--his voice void of emotion as his eyes narrowed on Rhysand's hands which was now resting on Aadya's shoulder and wondered why she wasn't pushing it away. Infact she didn't take her eyes of the plate in front of her.

"Stimulating," Rhysand purred.

"What are you doing here, Rhys?" Tamlin demanded, still in his seat.

"I wanted to check up on you and my partner here," he looked down at Aadya, "I wanted to see how you were fairing. If you got my little present."

"Your present was unnecessary."

"It was a combined effort. But a nice reminder of the fun days, wasn't it?" Rhysand clicked his tongue and surveyed the room. "Almost half a century holed up in a country estate. I don't know how you managed it. But," he said, facing Tamlin again, "you're such a stubborn bastard that this must have seemed like a Paradise compared to Under the Mountain. I suppose it is. I'm surprised, though: forty-nine years, and no attempts to save yourself or your lands. Even now that things are getting interesting again."

"There is nothing to be done,"conceded Tamlin, his voice low.

Rhysand's hands started moving in a soothing manner on Aadya's shoulders that she allowed herself to slump a little. His voice dropped into a whisper--an erotic caress of a sound. "What a pity that you must endure the brunt of it, Tamlin and an even greater pity that you're so resigned to your fate that your dragging sweet, innocent Aadya with you. You might be stubborn, but this is pathetic. How different the High Lord is from the brutal war-band leader of centuries ago."

Lucien interrupted, "What do you know about anything? You're just Amarantha's whore." Aadya's patience was wearing thin as she retorted to Lucien, unknowingly in defence of Rhysand.

"Her whore he might be, but not without his reasons." Everyone except Rhysand flinched at Aadya's voice which was strained and void of everything even compassion for her companions. "At least he haven't bided his time among the hedges and flowers while the world has gone to Hell."

Lucien visibly flinched but the anger was now directed towards both Rhysand and Aadya. "If you think that's all I've been doing,you'll soon learn otherwise." He turned towards Aadya, "this is not you Aadya, you're my friend."