A court of Shadows & Blood (An ACOTAR / Azriel fanfiction)

Chapter 1

It’s dark.

I can’t see.

He’s here again. What is he doing?

What does he want?

I’m cold.

There is a serpent.

He turns.

He’s looking at me now.

What does he look like? Wings. He has wings. Illyrians. He’s one of the warriors.

What does he want?

He never tells me. My throat is dry from screaming.

He’s warm. No.

Someone is touching me. Alcina, is that you?

I can’t ask. I can’t move.

They are lifting me up. Carrying me. Alcina can’t do that.

But that’s okay. They are warm. And the outside is cold. It’s okay. I want to be warm.

Are they a friend? An enemy? Am I where I wanted to go? Were my powers enough to get me inside?

Is this even Prythian? I don’t know. I’ve never been here before.

But I reached the winter court so I must be in prythian.

There is snow. Am I still in the winter court? Did someone find me before I reached my destination?

It’s warmer now.The snow stopped falling. Inside. I’m inside.

Inside where? Inside a house? A prison? A dungeon?

There is laughter. A house.

Then the laughter stops. I think I hear footsteps. And voices. Females and males.

They rush and whisper. Some sound agitated, then a female voice silences them all.

“Other.......out.....blood....” she speaks and I can’t hear. Blood. BLOOD!!

I gasp and pull air into my lungs. Breath. Breath. Breath. Breath.

Hands. Hands touch me. They have picked up weapons. Warriors. Am I among warriors? Am I among Illyrians?

I peel my eyes open. Cursebreaker. Feyre. The high lady of night court. Night court. I’m in the night court territory.

I relax. Safety. I’m safe. And Alcina is safe.

I curl up on the soft surface that is beneath me. Someone tucks my hair behind my ears.

I let them. It’s okay. I am where I should be. I think I’m shaking. Someone covers me with something warm, a blanket.

I try to move. Speak. Do something. A hand smooths down my hair. It’s quite. No one speaks. No one moves. Except for me.

I shift and hands support me. Feyre. Or Morrigan. The morrigan. I remember her. She doesn’t remember me. I had seen her before- wounded, scarred, ruins of battle on her body. She didn’t see me then.

I force my eyes to open more. I see males. Three of them. All in black. One of them has to be the high lord.

I reach out my hand. Towards what? I don’t know. I need them to listen. I need them to see. But I can’t tell. Because I don’t know.