[DISCONTINUED] TOG and AOCTAR Crossover

11

Feyre kissed him softly, enough to reassure.

I love you, and I love this life. Is this the best situation? No. But we are going to get through this together. You aren't letting me down.

I know, he replied down the bond, I just wish all of this wasn't happening, at least not right now.

She hummed and after a few moments of silence spoke up, "I could really do with some wine."

Rhysand let out a little chuckle, placing his hand flat against her small bump.

"Until he decides to make an appearance, I'll sit through sobriety with you."

"How very kind," she teased.

-+-

It was three weeks later and things had only gotten worse from then on. More fae had been killed and they still did not have word from Aelin Galathynius. Feyre was five and a half months along now and her stomach was already so much bigger.

Rhysand held her hand as they walked down the crowded streets of Velaris, on their way to the bigger house that Rhys had bought a few years ago.

When they reached it, they could hear the inner circle already bickering from inside. They typically gathered in there once a month to touch base about current situations, but it usually ended with them drinking bottles of wine and recounting funny stories. Not today.

Today there would be no alcohol. No roaring laughter. Today, they would prepare to go to war.

"Right, let's get started," Rhysand said as they both took a seat at the round table. He grabbed the folder that Azriel had slid across the surface.
"Refugees?" he asked.

The shadowsinger nodded, "all the info is in there. Population, individual files, places of residents and so on."

"Have there been any problems?" Feyre asked.

"Nothing more than scared fae having trouble adjusting."

After a few moments of flicking through the papers, the high lady spoke up.

"Did Nuala find anything when she went to the spring court?"

Azriel nodded, "it seems like Tamlin has been making deals with this Deanna and preparing for quite some time now. Nuala sensed a lot of the valg."

"How many?" she asked. Feyre fidgeted her hands nervously.

"We aren't too sure. My guess is around fifty thousand."

Fifty thousand, by the cauldron. It really was going to be a full-scale war, then. And they had to defeat this goddess, as well as stop Tamlin from killing innocents.

"We also caught one of Tamlin's cronies arriving by the ocean. We found these strapped to his arm."

The shadowsinger picked up a vile of black liquid. This is what Cerridwen had been forced to drink. It had caused her to be in a state of constant sleep and her wounds unable to heal.

"Madja thinks it's mutated faebane," Cassian said, "it's got something else unusual in it. We haven't been able to figure out what that component is."

How long had Tamlin had such a weapon? Where did he get it from?

"Give that to me," Amren said, deadly still. Nesta slowly reached over the table and grabbed the glass, careful not to spill any on her own skin. She passed it to Amren, who then held it up to the light and peered inside.

"Do you know what-" Mor began, but the fifteen thousand-year-old lifted a finger to silence her. As she unscrewed the cap and sniffed the contents, her eyes suddenly turned wide as shock plastered her face.

"It's not from this world - it's from Deanna's - mine. She must have supplied Tamlin with it."

"And what is it, exactly?" Rhysand asked. She put the bottle in her pocket slowly.

"Wait until Aelin Galathynius arrives. She will be able to explain it better than me."

"If Aelin Galathynius arrives," Rhys counteracted. They had not heard from this young queen at all.

"She will come," was all Amren said as she stood up. Feyre wondered how she could be so sure. Why would this woman help people she didn't even know?

"Can you find a cure?" Azriel asked. With a small nod of her head, Amren turned around and walked out of the room. She would no doubt lock herself up in her small attic until she had figured it out.

"What does Keir know?" Rhys suddenly asked.

Mor was the one to speak, "he knows everything about the rebellion. Eris told him."

"We need to talk to him," the high lord replied, "he doesn't know about the valg and we'll make sure he joins us in this war."

"And you're so sure that he will agree? We've just finished our war with Hybern - he won't want to jump into another so soon."

"If he doesn't want to be possed by the valg or killed by Deanna, then I'm sure he'll comply. I'll make it very clear on what will happen if he doesn't."

Finding that satisfactory enough, the third in command nodded and stood up, smoothing out the folds of her dress and leaving.

"Right then," Rhys said, "I'll arrange a meeting in Hewn city. Nesta, can you warn the mortal lands of the threat and make sure that they prepare just in case?"

Feyre's sister nodded.

"Elain, you send letters to Tarquin, Thesan, Helion and Kallias, explaining about what the real threat is - Deanna. Tell them that we are expecting a queen from another world to help us."

And with that, Rhys grabbed Feyre's hand and winnowed them both to their room, collapsing on their bed and falling into a much needed sleep.