A Dark Heart - Rhysand's Sister Fanfic AU

F O U R

strike true

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"My past is an armor I cannot take off, no matter 

how many times you tell me the war is over."

―Jessica Katoff

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+cassian

Some people forget I wasn't the General in the last war, and although I wish it didn't, it does bother me from time to time. People forget that I am one of them. That I was a foot soldier once, too. It's why I don't like the title of Lord either. I am bastard-born Illyrian who has lost everything except his treacherous title.

But perhaps it is also the fact that I have lost many things that makes me cherish what I do have. Rhysand, Azriel, Morrigan, Feyre, Amren, Nesta and Elain are all precious things to me. Eralyn and her mother were too.

Rhysand's mother, Aderyn, could never replace my birth mother, but she always filled in the hole in my heart. The countless times she had cooked for me, cleaned my wounds, came to my call, and gotten me Solstice presents was not countable. She was how I got the idea of what a mother should be, and although I wasn't her actual son, she treated me as such as I had never seen her give one of us three brothers more affection than the other. She was fair and just, and stubborn when it came to the principles she believed in, just like any true Illyrian. Every memory I have of her now resides in a special place in my heart, forever grateful to have a second chance at feeling motherly love.

However, it was for Eralyn that I almost begged Gwythyr, Rhysand's father, to let me go with him and Rhysand to the Spring Court if only to avenge my only friend and sister who'd ever truly accepted me.

She was the light, a magnificent star in a sea of darkness.

Eralyn was a smiley, young kid and my best friend. Sure, she was way younger, but she was a special light in my life. My sister in every way but by blood, but neither of us cared. Maybe it was her naivety, maybe it was her personality at the time, but I never saw her without some sort of joy or spirit in her heart. That was what I loved most about her. After the war, there was a part of me that was never going to come back, but when Eralyn was born and all three of us watched her grow, something was added to our hearts. It didn't fill the void, but it... distracted us, to say the least.

I always envied her carefreeness. She was a headstrong girl who got the information she wanted, but she had a humongous heart and cared a lot about her family, her mother the most.

Rhysand was always busy with official work with his father, Az sometimes with him, so I spent a great deal of time with her. She didn't care that I was a bastard or that I had taken hundreds of lives on the battlefield. Instead, she asked me to teach her how to fly better. Instead, she pulled pranks on her other two brothers. Instead, she smiled.

I miss that Eralyn dearly.

For Azriel, things were different though, at least to him. I may have spent a lot more time with Eralyn, but those two were inseparable. Only the gods will ever know what trials and tribulation Azriel internally suffered.

When Rhys and his father lost her, we lost her.

After Rhysand came back now crowned as High Lord, Azriel and I helped our brother bury our family before all of us went our separate ways.

In the matter of a day, those we had considered family was gone, including those dead and alive, however, we three needed that break from each other. Az and I really did want to go with Rhys and his father to avenge those two fierce-hearted females, but no matter how close Eralyn was to us, she wasn't blood, and maybe that's what pained all of us the most.

I remember the three of us not talking to each other for a long time. Rhys lost his entire family and, although I don't exactly know about Az, I know I felt like I lost Rhys. The loss of those important to us and the realization of how much we weren't connected to each other hit us hard. All three of us drowned in our own pits of despair.

But then came Mor. And Amren. And responsibility.

So, we moved on. We became stronger, better, tougher. We realized that as brothers, no matter what anyone else said, we were the same blood: Illyrian blood. But we never forgot. I don't think I will never forget Eralyn's naive smile. I will carry it to the grave with me even if I never get to see it again.

We never really spoke about that period of disconnect after all that death of family, we just picked our selves up and held each other close.