Aurora didn't sleep for the fifth night in a row. She swore there was a creature in the far right corner of the dark room, whispering things to her. When the soldier had brought her breakfast that morning, she had grasped his leathers and begged for him to kill the awful creature. He had just kicked her off of him, spitting onto her red hair.
Aurora believed it was nearing sundown, her eye twitching with exhaustion and the burn of not blinking as she stared into the darkness. It was only every few years that a creature would torment her, but this one seemed to speak things. Reach toward her with tendrils of shadows. Throughout the years, she had accumulated things in her personal dungeon. Rags and forgotten clothes of the soldiers' mates, anything that someone with empathy would bring to her.
During the centuries, she had not received care, healing nor beauty. Her hair had grown long past her waist, knotted and matted. Her skin was covered in layers of dirt that would only be cleansed on rare occasions that a soldier's mate would learn of her existence and bring her buckets of water and clean clothes on the darkest of nights.
Aurora was crouched beneath one of the two windows, nostrils flaring and eyes twitching as she stared at the darkness in one corner that seemed to shift forms every few minutes. She knew she had gone mad over the years, but all she waited for was the day a soldier would grow too angry and take a sword to her heart. Not a moment occurred. Not when they would take advantage of her weakest days by using her body for their pleasure, not when she'd howl at them to whither and die, and not when she'd curse the general or High Lord for never bringing her out of the dark.
Her brother never visited, never cared. For all he knew, Aurora was decaying in the cement ground of the basement. The walls were marked with her nails clawing up to the too-high windows, the floor branded by the words she'd carve in the night. One female, the mate of a lowly warrior, would come down into the basement during the night Aurora was younger and teach her of the world around her. She had learned of a new war, of three humans turned high fae, of the wall falling. She hadn't heard from the female in years, and guessed she had been figured out and slaughtered.
It had fallen to twilight before Aurora had noticed, her eyes snapping to the window to see the moon standing proudly in the sky. A shuffle, and her eyes went back to the shadows that seemed to mock her. They had been watching her for nearly a week now, far more intimidating than the hidden creatures of the past. She blinked only once, and the feeling of the hidden eyes fell away.
"Where did you go?" She whispered, a sense of dread filling her empty stomach.
Darkness seemed to sweep in faster than the night came, wind whipping at Aurora's hair. Her wide eyes snapped to the left side of the basement, a figure standing there. Aurora yelped, her voice rotten and hoarse from centuries of hardly speaking or screaming, no in between.
"Are you alone?" The figure spoke, a female voice echoing in the room. Aurora attempted to swallow, her dry throat restricting. Steel flashed in the moonlight, and Aurora felt her shoulders fall. It was either death or release, either was fine with her. The figure grew closer, dim light casting over golden hair and black leather.
"Are you okay?" The female spoke again, and Aurora stayed silent. She didn't remember the last time someone asked her that. Was this the shadows tricking her again? No, the light never teased her, but could it be her mind?
The figure drew in, kneeling down. Aurora squinted, making out a face in the dark. High Fae, clean, cared for. A female she had never seen in this court.
"Please, allow me to take you to my court. You'll be bathed, fed, watched over. You've been alone for centuries, I've heard. I wish to bring you to safety, to my home," the female cooed. Aurora nearly leaned into the sound. She stayed frozen against the wall, feeling her eyes twitch again. The female sighed, dropping her head before looking at Aurora again. "You may hate me for this, but we are leaving."
The female gripped Aurora's arm, and she flinched, kicking her feet out. It was no use, they were numb tonight. It took seconds before darkness wrapped around her, squeezing her. Aurora thought she may have screamed, but she wasn't sure. Her throat ached well enough. She didn't know how long it had been before her knees hit the ground, yanking her arm from the females. Light burned her pupils, and Aurora closed her eyes quickly. Warmth enveloped her, warmth she hadn't felt in centuries. A fire, a home.
"Is this her?" A male voice sounded. Aurora froze, refusing to open her eyes. It sounded like the depth of thunder, only powerful enough to be wielded by a male of high power. Where was she?
"Yes, she didn't speak to me, I just took her. I didn't know what else to do, I thought she'd be happy to be saved," the female, Mor, sighed. She heard the click of boots, her shoulders cowering as they grew louder. A hand was placed onto her back, hesitating at the feeling of her spine before splaying across it.
"Are you alright? Do you know where you are?" The male boomed, though she could tell he was attempting to sound soft. Aurora forced her head to shake as an answer. "Open your eyes. You're safe."
She didn't want to. The light burned, ached.
"Rhys, she's been in darkness for who knows how long. Let's turn some lights off, maybe that'll help," Mor spoke again. Aurora stilled, heart pounding.
"No," she croaked, bringing her head down to where her knees bent. She didn't realize she was crouching still. They were silent for a moment, and she could sense their eyes on her.
"The library, then," the male, Rhys, spoke. Aurora began to lift her head, but he gripped her arm and they were wrapped in wind and darkness again. She felt her stomach twist, she'd prefer the female to bring her in this darkness. A male's hands felt like imprisonment again.
As soon as the world twisted back into focus and her feet were on solid ground, Aurora shoved away from Rhys. Slowly, as her heart beat began to calm, she peeled open her eyes. It was dark, but candlelight spread throughout. Massive shelves of books stretched up rows and rows of twisting staircases. The darkness crept along the edges of candlelight, but in this moment, Aurora was standing in light. She almost reveled in it, but she stiffened when she remember the male behind her.
Aurora whipped around, eyes wide as she saw him. Fuck. He was a High Lord. She had no doubt. His power stretched far past her, reaching into the night sky outside. It almost made her ill, being so close to one with such power. He stood tall, broad. Jaw clenched as he looked down on her.
"Are you comfortable speaking with me? Or shall I get my mate?" He asked, and Aurora shuddered at the sound of his voice. She didn't want to be alone with a male, not when the darkness was this close to her.
"Mate, please," she croaked out. Rhys gave her a single nod before he was enveloped in that darkness again. Aurora heard her breath echoing in the silence, and she took the moment to peer around the gargantuan rooms. The levels seemed to rise far above, though she wasn't sure how far down they went. The darkness was too full, too thick for her to go near.
With the sound of wind again, Aurora turned. Her eyes met blue, female, gentle. She stood tall, as much power as the High Lord had. It made her skin crawl.
"I'm Feyre, High Lady of the Night Court," the female spoke, voice kind but full of that reigning power. Aurora parted her lips, but her voice didn't come. The female knelt on one knee, waving a hand for Aurora to follow. She did, immediately. Her knees buckled and she hit the floor, feeling much more comfortable in the crouched position, especially with the High Lady joining her. High Lady?
"You are High Lady?" Aurora seemed to whisper. Feyre gave her a nod and a quirk of her lips. A female with power, so much power. Her heart ached to be as fearsome as Feyre.
"I am. Could you tell me how long you were down in that basement? I know it's hard, but you can trust me. You're safe in my court," Feyre promised, her eyes kind. Aurora wanted to swallow, though her throat was far too dry.
"I don't know. I was twenty-one when I was put in there, not long after the war. I heard whispers of another war, a recent one. I was brought there fourteen years after the first war," Aurora breathed out, brows pressing together as she stared at the High Lady. She watched Feyre's expression, the widening of her eyes, the tightening of her lips. Regal, elegant features Aurora was in awe of.
"Could you tell me your name?" Feyre asked, reaching a hand forward. Aurora stared at the hand, clean and weathered. She reached her own out, cringing at the dirtied and broken skin. Feyre did not flinch when Aurora placed her hand in hers.
"My name is Aurora," she whispered, throat beginning to ache. Feyre gave her a smile.
"Aurora, the war that you know of, lived in, was five hundred years ago. You've been down there that long, give or take a decade. Who put you in there?"
Aurora couldn't breathe. She knew it had to at least be a century, but five? Her stomach twisted, wrenching.
"My father," she choked out, not meeting the female's eyes again. She had retracted her hand, tucking it in the grim material of her hand stitched dress. Feyre was silent for a beat, and then Aurora heard her take in a breath.
"Who is your father?"
"Oberon. General of the Winter Court armies. He was, at least. I don't know what came about him in the years I was in there." Aurora looked through her lashes to the High Lady. Her fingers were over her lips as she studied her.
"Why were you placed in the basement?" Feyre asked, voice now like a whisper. Aurora could hardly speak, her throat ached terribly.
"I was caught wielding a sword," she responded, voice now withered and dying. Feyre clenched her jaw, rising to her feet.
"I understand that you are frightened, but you and I are the only ones in this house. Here, in the library, are priestesses rescued and given sanctuary by my mate. You are welcome to stay down here, however, I will join you in the house if you wish to bathe and eat. Would you like to come with me?"
Aurora looked around the room a moment, wondering if the darkness would stretch into the house Feyre spoke about. At least she would have company, that's all she wanted. Aurora began trailing behind Feyre as she climbed the stairs, eyes watching each level move by as they rose.
Feyre pushed through a large door, the room's brightness making Aurora blink rapidly as they entered. So much candlelight.
"There is a bathing room down here, I will find you some clothes to wear. Are you alright to bathe on your own or would you like me to stay with you?" Aurora's stomach twisted at Feyre's kind voice, compassionate eyes. How long had it been since someone was kind to her?
"I'll be alright," she whispered, walking to the room that Feyre pointed her to.