[DISCONTINUED] TOG and AOCTAR Crossover

06

Feyre pushed the blade into the holster of her boot until she heard a gentle click. Nesta had started tinkering with weapons a few months after she and Cassian returned from her... rehab in the mountains, and it turns out that she was extremely skilled in creating contraptions and tricks.

With this particular one, a string was threaded through Feyre's pant leg and up her shirt so that with a simple tug, a hidden blade could fly into her hands.

Effective, unharming to her, and slightly dramatic. But who didn't love to put on a show?

At the time, when Rhys suggested wearing it, Feyre thought it was unnecessary. However, as the high lord and lady prepared to face Tamlin on fire night, she was very grateful for the daggered boot.

"Remember the plan?" Rhys asked, running a hand along her shoulders.

"If course I do!I came up with most of it." he flicked her nose at that, "but are you sure you want to go through with this? If we're wrong about Tamlin's... intentions, it could really ruin our reputation."

"Positive," he said, kissing her cheek, "is everyone in place?"

"Yes, Az and the shadows have examined the cave and prepared the cup. Cass is ready under the stone stage, Lucien is meeting us down there and Mor and Amren are in the temple as we speak."

"Mother, you're a genius," he muttered. He picked up the crown from the chair and placed it atop of her head.

"Ready?"

"Let's expose this bitch."

-+-

Feyre appeared in the centre of Ianthe's old temple. It was empty and desolate, the cool stone only lit by a few torches. Dust had begun to gather in the corners of the room after years of it not being used, and the cracked windows made the place abnormally cold.

Amren and Mor stepped aside so that Feyre could view the main part of their plan. The Puca stared back at the high lady from the chair it sat in. At the moment, the monster just looked like some random fae woman, but Feyre knew that was not it's original form.

The puca could change into anything, like a shapeshifter. And that's what made it so vital in their scheme. It had agreed to help for only some food in return. Turns out that the puca were very hungry creatures and would do anything to get ahold of some grub.

"I just spoke to Elain," Mor said, "she talked to about twenty business owners, restaurants and artisan centres. They are able to host Sprint Court refugees for a few days until we find a more permanent solution."

"Great," Feyre smiled, relieved that things were going well so far.

"Are you sure you are able to do it?" Feyre asked the puca who listened to their conversation intently. It's form began to change slowly, before she stared right back into familiar grey eyes. The puca had become herself.

"Yes," it responded, the voice also the same.

"Then let's get down to business."

-+-

Feyre watched the puca take the seat next to Rhys. She was currently stood in a catwalk above the stage - it was made for the guards to be out of sight, but Azriel had already dealt with them. The flame of the torches danced about, casting a glow on Tamlin who stood at the front.

Whilst keeping her eye on the party below, Feyre began to strip from her dress and slip into her Illyrian fighting leathers. When she was done, she peered over the edge and watched her mate. His face was a mask of calm, but inside a storm was raging.