[DISCONTINUED] TOG and ACOTAR Crossover

01

A/N: This fic is set after Kingdom of Ash and A Court of Wings and Ruin, but some things I've changed include Aelin and Dorian still having their full magic, despite forging the lock. Aelin will also have all of her scars.

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"Are you sure you want to go? We can always back out." Rhysand murmured into Feyre's ear. The high lady shook her head.

"No, I'm fine. All of the other courts are going and it would make us look weak if we didn't."

Tamlin had announced that he would be holding a party during Calanmai so that he could pick someone suitable to be his wife. All of the courts were invited to celebrate; to join the grand feast of spring and dance until their heart's content. The Inner Circle weren't so excited to attend.

"Grab your bags, then," Rhysand straightened the collar of his favourite jacket as he spoke, "Azriel is waiting for us downstairs."

They would arrive in the manor a day before the celebration and be given rooms to stay overnight. They knew that the only reason Tamlin was doing this was so that he could show off his luxury. But he should've been more focused on rebuilding after the war - not flaunting his newly found riches. 

With a sigh, Feyre picked up her satchel and threw it over her shoulder. Who knew what kind of trouble would pop up?

-+-

The Inner Circle walked through the grounds of the manor. People stared at the group; some in fear and some in awe. Rhysand and feyre strode slightly in the lead and behind them, Azriel, Cassian and Mor were a force to be reckoned with. Between their stunning appearances, the glowing siphons on the Illyrians' chests, and Truth Teller that hung at the Shadowsinger's side, nobody dared to move a muscle.

"Welcome," a servant bowed as they reached the entrance to Tamlin's house, "The other High Lords are already here."

They nodded and followed the man through the familiar marble halls. The sun's rays gleamed through the windows and made the white stone so bright that Feyre had to squint her eyes. It was pretty, she had to admit, but the glaring light of it ruined the magnificence.

Are you ready? Rhysand asked down the bond.

He's going to try and make a fool out of us. That's probably why he organised this whole thing in the first place, and that's why I'm worried.

Her mate didn't respond, but she knew he had heard. Instead, a wave of warmth splashed against her mental shields in calming bursts to soothe her jittery nerves.

"Tamlin," Rhysand greeted with a stoic expression. The other High Lords in the room turned towards them; Tarquin and Helion giving a small smile in which Feyre returned. Those two were really the only good relationships between the Night Court. Thesan was neutral in everything, along with Kallias, and Beron and Tamlin... well, everyone knew those stories.

When they reached the table, they realised that there were only two seats available. Everyone else was sat comfortably with their court members, but for some reason Cassian, Azriel and Mor were not to be included in that notion.

"Could you fetch some more chairs, Tamlin?" Rhysand's expression remained calm and collected, but annoyance bubbled underneath.

"They can stand over there," he gestured to the corner, "there isn't enough table space anyway."

Feyre could see Cassian's features crumble slightly. But as quick as it had happened, they morphed back into the mask of the general; the leader of armies. She knew the reason he had faltered. His whole life he had been treated as a lesser male - a bastard and half breed - and here Tamlin was continuing with that re-occurring theme.