𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.
chapter three; In The Shadows
" Do not speak ill of him in my company, Feyre. "
NIXIE AWOKE TO a heated argument of two familiar people. She pulled herself closer to the front of her small room, pressing her face against the bars that held her back.
"Rhys, what did you do?"
His head spun, sparing an angry but healed Feyre a quick glance.
"You know, to Nixie, her tattoos are an honor."
Nixie self-consciously rubbed her right arm donned in magical ink.
Luck and destiny and prosperity and safety and love-- admittedly, she'd hated them for years. They hadn't done their job from where she was sitting.
But now, Nixie understood. And she did honor them, she cherished the markings on her skin.
"That's what this is about," Feyre spoke, her eyes sparkling in realization, "You're only saving me because her life relies on my trials."
"What?" Nixie demanded, pressing herself closer, "Rhysand, what is going on?"
"Now you've gone and gotten me into trouble," Rhys mumbled to Feyre, shaking his head as he departed from her cell.
"My life?"
Rhys pursed his lips, reaching into the cell to grasp Nixie's skeletal hand tightly. For he knew this anger was but a thin veil, attempting to hide the fear in her heart.
"Feyre was concerned after you were whisked away. Amarantha took advantage of a weakness."
"My life depends on--"
"I bet on her."
The whisper didn't reach an eagerly listening Feyre, who wished the stone walls were thinner than paper.
"This is my life," Nixie breathed out, tears bubbling up, "Rhys, I don't-- I don't want to die in this place."
"You won't."
But she couldn't believe that. No matter how much faith she wanted to have in the mortal girl that morning, Nixie wasn't so sure these trials would even be possible to pass.
"If I do I need you to take me home," Nixie whispered thickly, "Don't leave me here, Rhys."
"Never."
Rhys dared to venture past the bars, pulling Nixie in for a tight hug. He stayed longer than he should have, but for this, he was willing to face the consequences.
Nixie fell asleep, her head resting on his thigh. It was a rare night, one she slept through, though this may have had something to do with the gentle magic that leaked out of Rhys's hand as he brushed down her hair.
☽ ☾
All Feyre thought about while doing her impossible household tasks was Nixie. She hadn't been pulled out with Feyre, hadn't joined her in washing the floor with muck water or sorting ash from lentils in Rhys's fireplace.
And when Feyre returned, Nixie was still in her cell, tracing the dark lines on her skin with a small finger, as if she hadn't moved an inch.
Once the guards vanished, Feyre spoke.
"Why can they hurt you?"
Nixie's brows furrowed at the question, tilting her head.
"Because they're cruel and Amarantha doesn't quite like me."
"But. . ." Feyre questioned lightly, "Why hasn't Rhysand protected you?"
The silence was deafening. Feyre felt her heart skip a beat, remembering those stories Tamlin spun, the ones that reminded Feyre of tales that might have kept her hiding under her covers as a child.
It had been easy to forget the monster Nixie was supposed to be.
"I should kill you for that."
The hair on Feyre's arms stood on end, for this was a tone she had not heard yet.
"Rhys protects me with his every breath," Nixie spoke quietly. "Even if it is not his duty to do so, he is my High Lord and my brother. Do you think Amarantha is blind to that bond? Do you honestly think she would allow Rhys to protect the only thing he cares for Under the Mountain?"
Feyre regretted her phrasing. She honestly hadn't meant it harshly, it was a simple curiosity after Rhys had ordered the guards to not touch her. A question of why he hadn't done that for his own court.
"He's given up more than you know just to be able to visit me," Nixie said, "Do not speak ill of him in my company, Feyre."
"Why do you care for him?" She couldn't help herself. Even after being scolded, threatened, Feyre couldn't keep her curiosity from spilling out, "He's. . . cruel."
"Prythian is cruel, Feyre. You're only just seeing it."
That was the last question Nixie answered. Feyre asked a few more, about what she meant, about Rhys and Night Court and those things Tamlin and Amarantha had said about her. But it seemed she'd have to be patient, in time, perhaps, more answers would come.
But Feyre couldn't shake the feeling in her chest, she couldn't bring herself to be angry or frustrated at the Illyrian woman.
After all, Nixie had been the first person in all of Prythian that gave Feyre the unbridled truth.
The following two weeks, Amarantha had decided to keep Nixie in her cell.
Feyre stole glances every time she was whisked to and from her own cell, but most of the time it was difficult to make out the pitch-black wings encasing a frail woman in the shadowy cell. All she could wonder, really, was why Nixie seemed to seek out those shadows. Wherever they flickered, she followed, instead of choosing the low pools of light, Nixie pulled herself into the darkest corners.
She added this to her ever-growing list of questions.
"Nix?"
The woman lifted her eyes at his soft, but hollow voice. Rhysand stood in his flashy attire, though his expression didn't match.
She remembered when it did. When they were dancing under stars in dreams with their friends, when Rhysand's best outfits were matched with his glimmering smile-- it all seemed so far away now.
"Rhys, what's wrong?"
"I just wanted to see you before it got too busy," Rhys admitted, slinking past the bars that caged Nixie, "I'm bringing Feyre."
"Keep an eye on her," Nixie attempted to joke, "She's clearly not a normal human."
Rhys smiled lightly, shaking his head as he kneeled to her eye level.
"I'll get a meal sent to you tonight," Rhys promised, "It will be so busy, it'll be easy."
Nixie nodded. Full, hot meals were few and far between for Nixie; it was clear seeing Nixie healthy and full-figured was enough to push Amarantha past her limit.
And Nixie didn't have the heart to tell Rhysand that she couldn't keep down anything more than a few crumbs anymore.
"Thank you," Nixie said quietly, closing her eyes as the man patted her head gently, "Take care of Feyre."
Rhys stopped for a moment, inspecting the woman.
"You really care for her?"
"Blame it on the imprisonment," Nixie shrugged, "I may be losing my mind, but she's given me laughter and hope. Things I couldn't even dream of before."
He couldn't tell if his heart swelled or sunk at that moment. Combatting emotions of happiness for her, and dread of her life and Feyre's intertwined.
Regardless of which won at that moment, Rhysand pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of her matter hair, before bidding her goodnight.
Nixie spent the following hour fighting off exhaustion, awaiting the hot meal that was silently slid into her cell.
She never caught glimpses of who Rhysand managed to bribe or sway, only muttered soft 'Thank you's before prodding at the meals. And once those footsteps faded away, Nixie engaged in a nightly routine.
"I still remember how scared you were when I left," Nixie whispered to the shadows, pushing herself further into the darkest corner, "Sometimes, I hope you miss me as much as I do all of you. Sometimes. . . I hope you've all learned to carry on. I'd hate to think you've felt the same as we have all these years."
She mulled in the silence for a long while, picking apart the assortment of meat, bread, and sweets.
"You're all I dream of. All of you, and my parents, and our home," Nixie whispered to the shadows as she plucked apart a pastry, "But, sometimes I wonder if you dream of me, too."
Her head rested on the cool concrete, exhaustion flooding in as she did. Nixie's eyelids grew heavy as she finished the remainder of food her stomach could hold, and as she succumb to unconsciousness, she could've sworn she heard his voice whispering.
"I never stopped."
( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
I literally love Nixie I'm so sorry--