Five years before Feyre Archeron ever stepped foot in Prythian, another human girl found herself in the Spring Court. But the trials and tribulations of her time Under the Mountain left her with nothing but a certain red-headed High Fae emissary, wh...
A/N: I'm posting this a little earlier than intended (was aiming for a new chapter every 2 days) because I've apparently got a scheduled power cut tomorrow (in 40 degree heat - send me prayers). Enjoy folks!
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The first man from Amarantha's court to grace your bed - the first man you had ever taken to bed - was not gentle. He had hit you so hard that your cheekbone bruised, and even your new High Fae strength was nothing compared to these centuries-old Fae. He had delighted in realising that you had bled shortly afterward, and had made quite the spectacle in telling everyone exactly how he had taken your virtue.
After around two dozen men had come and gone from your chambers, and weeks had passed by, you came to learn what it was that you had to do. They would come, take what they wanted, and leave nothing in return. They didn't want anything sensual or passionate, there was no kissing or foreplay, they simply wanted to bury themselves for an hour or so, and you were the chosen place to do it.
By the next time Lucien had come to visit, you had become quite adept at pretending to be somewhere else, and the dark shapes behind your eyelids became your best friends, come to you every time a knock came at your chamber door and you closed your eyes, praying that it would be over soon.
It had been three months since Lucien's initial visit, and this time he found you, not in that dank cell, but in the throne room. A High Fae from Hewn City had you sprawled in his lap whilst he swallowed down glass after glass of wine, his hand resting on your upper thigh - you were his property for the night, and damn anyone who might try to touch you.
"Give us a smile then," the High Fae growled, looking you over. His friends chuckled low and dark. You didn't speak, and you wouldn't dare to, instead simply pulling at the sides of your lips until they resembled something close to a smile. You hadn't smiled in months. You had very little to be joyful about down here under this mountain.
"Y/N?" Your name came as a whisper somewhere behind you, and you tensed at the voice, turning to find the youngest brother of the Autumn Court staring back at you in pure shock. "What are you doing?"
His face had gone deathly pale - as pale as a corpse - and his eyes were narrowed, lips a thin, straight line. The Fae who was currently providing your seat scoffed, glancing at his friends and then back at Lucien with a snarl. "Wait your own turn, Autumn. Unless you want to lose that other eye too."
Lucien flinched ever-so-slightly, but didn't make to reply. Instead, he turned back to you, leaning forward slightly. "I have business to attend to, but I'll find you shortly, ok?"
You nodded, and watched as he hesitantly turned, almost as if he didn't want to leave you with the Hewn City Fae, and slipped into the crowd. You fought the urge to scream after him for him to take you with him, wherever it was he was going. That wouldn't go down well with the Fae who's lap I sat in, and definitely not with Amarantha.
