A Court of Blood and Glory

Unclaimed

Feyre

She put the red rose petals on the aisle, the one who brought on my panic, but also the one who brought Rhys to me, the one who helped me to escape by setting off a chain of events. And also the one who tried to take Rhys for her own, tried to get him to whore himself to her.
"I must say, Feyre, you look much better than you did the last I saw you. I guess being back with us helped you so much." Bitch. She knew exactly why I was so awful.
"Ianthe has been with Hybern, overseeing the movement of the cauldron." I was surprised that she had such an important role, but then she was a High Priestess, so she should be with the cauldron.
"Yes." She said. "I have felt honoured to be in the presence of such power." I didn't know if she meant the King or the cauldron. Probably both.
"Well I'm glad to see you, Ianthe." I said, and forced a smile through, hoping the lie was convincing.
"I was horrified to hear of your pregnancy, but I am glad to hear of that wretched child's death. I hope that you will bear Tamlin's child instead of that monster's." I hadn't thought of that. Hadn't realised that I wasn't taking a tonic, that I could still bear a child. My shock must have shown on my face, as Tamlin felt the need to reassure me.
"I'm sure you will bear my heir soon enough, Feyre." He said, sneaking a glance to my scarred stomach, as if he could see it through my too lose dress.
I'd lost so much weight, become so thin, that I wasn't even sure if I was able to bear a child at that moment. The realisation hit me, and I sat back in my chair, relived that I was too malnourished for once. Probably the last time I would be grateful for Tamlin's treatment of me.
"I would like you to come with Ianthe and I today, Feyre, as I have something for you." I was slightly apprehensive, but couldn't deny him, so I allowed him to take my hand and lead me from the room, Ianthe a step behind us, her eyes never leaving my hand in Tamlin's, hatred in her eyes.
We walked through the gardens, eventually arriving at Ianthe's temple an hour later. It wasn't a long walk, normally, but Tamlin had wanted to spend as long as possible with me, which meant making the dreadful walk longer. It would be a long day.
Ianthe's temple was very grand, with huge iron doors that were covered in intricate images of the cauldron and the mother, showing the land I'd heard the innocent fae girl I'd sacrificed describing. We stepped inside, and I was overwhelmed by the amount of gold inside. There was an altar in the middle of the room, made of solid gold, and had garlands of flowers dotted with candles surrounding it. The walls were decorated with tapestries and more images, set in gold this time, and candles underneath, making the images shine, so much so that I could barely make out what they depicted. But my main focus was on the tapestry on the far wall, behind the altar. It was similar to the one I'd first seen in the library, except much, much larger and the images more vivid. It drew my attention and I stood transfixed, studying it. Eventually I heard Tamlin cough, waking me from my haze, and I quickly made my way to the altar where he awaited me, Ianthe at his side.
Dread built in my stomach as I walked forward, unsure of what would happen. I tried to talk to Rhys, see what he said to do, but I only met his shields, and I could feel the quietness of sleep on the other side. He'd stayed awake with me all night, so it was no surprise that he needed to rest, and I doubted I could wake him if I tried. Fine. I was on my own.
"I want to get those claiming tattoos off you, Feyre. They are full of lies, anyway, speaking of Rhysand's love for you, but that creature doesn't know what love is." Neither did he, apparently. I went along with it, but I hoped that Rhys would be able to mark me again, claim me again, when I returned to the Night Court. I checked once more that my true claiming tattoo was still glamoured before giving my other hand over, Ianthe quickly grabbing it and clutching it tightly with both hands. I felt heat, starting in my fingertips, flare up, getting hotter and hotter as it spread, taking the swirling ink with it, leaving my arm pale and bare. I had to clutch hold of Tamlin's tunic to prevent myself from crying out in pain, and he held me close to him. It took all of my concentration to keep the glamour on my arm in place, keep them from knowing how far Rhys's love for me really went.
Eventually, after hours or minutes, the pain subsided, and I felt the world darken around me, pulling me under once more as I dropped to the floor.

Rhysand

All I felt was pain. Not my pain though, Feyre's pain, all across my chest and down my arm. It woke me up, and I immediately jumped into her head, needing to know what was going on with her.
Her tattoo, the one I'd given her to show the world how much I loved her, was fading off her skin, and it was agony for her. Of course it was agony for her; you can't break a bond, a deal, without the consequences. And Tamlin and the bitch priestess were trying to break one of the most important deal I'd ever made. A mating bond. But they didn't have enough power to break it. No one but the King did. All they could do was hurt her, and remove her tattoo. But before I could talk to her, see what she needed or wanted, Feyre blacked out, and I was thrown from her mind.
But I still felt her consciousness, still felt her on the other end of the bond, felt her nightmares take hold once again. And I felt her shields collapse as her dreams were thrown into my head, and I couldn't stop them from taking hold in my mind, as I saw every horror she saw.

I – Feyre – was tied down on the bed and Tamlin climbed on top of her, pushing her down, forcing himself on her as she screamed and cried, her tears soaking her cheeks. Tamlin licked her tears away, followed by her scarred stomach, and finally her legs whilst Feyre thrashed and screamed. "Oh, Feyre, you don't want me to stop. Not really. Because if I do your sister will die." Tamlin said, his voice like razors on my – her – ears. He moved off her, and I saw Nesta Archeon bound and gagged, hanging from the ceiling, Ianthe holding a knife to her throat.

I pulled out, finally able to drag my mind back into my head. But I knew that Feyre had to get out of that court, because her nightmares were real, or real enough, and she couldn't deal with being with him, whoring herself for him. It was too much, and she was falling apart. She'd done enough, we had enough information, and it was time to get her out, whether she wanted to leave or not.

Feyre

I slept for hours, the sun having set when I ran to the toilet, only to find nothing come up. I looked at my arm, the skin now bare, and remembered all that I'd dreamt, all that Rhys had seen as I pulled him in, needing someone, anyone, to understand what it was like here. I couldn't stay any longer, couldn't play the part of the whore, couldn't be with him any longer. How had Rhys survived like this for forty nine years?
I didn't, Feyre darling.
I had dropped my shields as I sat in the bathroom.
How did you cope with it though? I can't get the images out of my head, can't stop thinking about what people will call me.
Tamlin's whore.
I thought of my family, thought of why I was doing it.
Thought of his family, my family now. And my blood family that only had one person left. One person that hated me. Nesta, who was a prisoner in this house as I'd been.
I need to get out of here, need to get Nesta out of here.
Ok. Do you want me to come and get you, or do you want to come to me yourself?
I need to burn this place to the ground and dance on the ashes. And I need to do it alone.
I will be in the tunnel to Autumn Court in five days' time. Can you be there then?
I can. And I will.
This court would burn, and freeze, and be smothered in darkness. And Tamlin would see what the High Lady of the Night Court could do. What his whore could do.