A Court of Heart and Fealty | Rhysand

Chapter 30: The Catalyst of Wings

Chapter 30: The Catalyst of Wings

The first thing Galadriel saw were bright hazel eyes intently searching for hers. It was a sight she had seen enough to know who exactly they belonged to. But his roguishly handsome face wasn't backed by the sweet peach paint of her roof that appeared almost white when he arrived before dawn at her villa. And there were voices other than his somewhere around her that didn't belong to that imagined scene.

Galadriel groaned and tried to roll onto her stomach, but Cassian held her still. He blurred in and out of focus as bile crept into her throat. Swearing, she pressed her hand to a throb on the side of her head but winced when her fingers barely dusted her skin.

"Yeah, probably don't want to do that," Cassian said, urging her hand back down before she could investigate further. "Fucking hell." It didn't sound like the first time he had said that recently.

He guided her to sit up and didn't protest when she leant against him, her entire body feeling like it was getting ready to spill her guts. "My head hurts." Her voice was chipped and hoarse. They were on the rooftop and the sun was well up, which meant that they'd been here for a while.

"Not surprised." Cassian tucked a strand of her hair back over her ear as he squinted at the side of her head where it ached. "You took a direct blow."

"Which he should have pulled." Past Cassian, between the training ring Galadriel was in and another, was Mor, Azriel next to her. "Gods, Cassian. It's like you wanted to knock her brains out."

Galadriel glared hazily at the general. "You punched me?"

"You don't remember?"

She shook her head, but that was a terrible mistake. The bile rose higher, acid breaching her mouth. Cassian turned her away from himself just in time for her to vomit across the ground beside him. He rubbed her back with something of an apology.

"Why the fuck did you knock me out?" she demanded, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

"It wasn't my intention," he replied pointedly. "But you were distracted and not listening to me. That type of distraction would get you killed on a battlefield."

Count the lesson learned.

Galadriel simply moaned a little more, shielding her eyes from the blaring sun with his large frame. Unsteadily, he got her to her feet, arm secured around her middle. She hobbled with him back down into the House of Wind, giving no mind to where they were going until they reached a small sitting room. He set her down on a lowered table and she languidly pointed to the cushioned chairs just feet away.

"I don't want you getting comfy and falling asleep just yet," he told her, rifling through a few draws until he had what he needed, the House of Wind summoning the supplies. He tossed something in her lap. "Chew on that." She did, not bothering to identify it. It was tangy.

Unscrewing the lid of a small tub, he swiped his thumb through a greenish cream. Kneeling in front of her, he brushed her hair away and layered it onto that spot that throbbed in time with her heart. Galadriel hissed, nails digging his arm, but he didn't swat her away and after he'd knocked her into oblivion, she didn't care about leaving a few marks on him. "This will calm the swelling. If the bruising doesn't go down in a day let me know."

"You were too rough, Cassian."

Cassian rolled her eyes at her before peering over his shoulder at the High Lord. "Which one of your little minions ran off to tell you?" he grunted before turning back to Galadriel.

Rhysand didn't deign to answer. He unfolded his arms from across his chest and stalked forward, kneeling beside Cassian on the carpet. "You could have done at lost worse." Not a look on the bright side, but a low growl of warning.