Light Weaver

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When I woke up it seemed as if everything was packed into wool. As if I would look at the world through milky glass. My head had stopped pounding, but I still felt as if I could sleep for eternity. But it was as if something ancient inside of me had opened an eye. It felt as if my whole body had changed, my veins seemed to throb with the strange wool around me. It pulled and pushed at my senses, the world was suddenly so full of light, so full of power. It was as if suddenly I could see the threats of whom the world was woven and they were full of light.

"...not their right. They're your Subjects. Do something, she needs to heal properly before they fly her back" I knew the voice, but I didn't know from where.

"You know that it isn't that easy, so don't give me that crap, Cassian. Her Father will go berserk if he doesn't get her back the moment they're able to transport her" the other voice was deep, manly, but in a different way. I felt as if it could fill the world entirely.

"No" I coughed, blinking against the light shining into the room, but it wouldn't go away.
I was lying in a small room, furnished only with the bed I was occupying as well as a dresser and a mirror, while everything was still encircled by strands of light in all colors. Brown, mostly, but there was also white, silver, black. 

In a heartbeat, the bastard King, encircled by thousands of beautiful scarlet strands mixed with a few iron-grey ones, was at my bed, a glass of water in his hand: "Don't talk. You screamed your throat hoarse on the way here."

Then he glared at the man standing behind him. I knew instantly who he was. Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, who was radiating night blue strands flecked with yellow points everywhere. The most powerful being in existence and there was this warrior... glaring at him?

I blinked, but it hadn't been a trick of the light. Even through the threads of light, I could see clearly who they were, what they were doing.

"Please don't send me back" my voice was more a breath.

The High Lord looked at me, pain shining in his eyes, then sighed: "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do."

"That's bullshit, don't give her that. At least be honest!" the general sounded positively pissed.
"And what do you, oh Wise Cassian, suggest I do? Keep her? What do you think Devlon would say? And Achilleus? OR, most importantly, Cullian? There are rules even I can't break" Rhysand sounded definite, but still a bit desperate.

"And what do you think Mor will say? Huh? Or Feyre? Don't think for a moment that I won't tell my High Lady what's going on here and you know exactly how well she takes to females being the property of some male. Her health has to be our first priority" Cassian shot back.

I imagined going back. I saw Ethiniuses face, the disappointment, distrust and hurt. He would never forgive me for running away, no matter what it had meant for me.

Tears welled in my eyes, but instead of that I sniffled: "They'll clip me."

I had never seen anyone look so murderous, Cassian even more than the High Lord, but still I wouldn't want that wrath directed at me.

"No they won't" the High Lord sounded also very definitive on that.

That something stirred in me again, purring at its polar opposite entering the room. Out of nowhere, a shadow entered the room, whispering, singing something into the High Lord's ear.
I gulped, closed my eyes, centered me, then said, trying very hard to sound as sure them: "I'm not going back. I would rather die."

The high lord looked at me softly: "It's your home."

"No. That place is not my home" I looked at him, but he looked back at the floor, then at Cassin.

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