Rhysand felt genuinely nervous. He hadn't felt like this since he had been courting Feyre. Rowan was a difficult male to impress and pure power emanated from him even when no magic was being used. As much as the Illyrian's were war machines, this male was built for killing fields and triumph.
He started to suspect that in years, Rhys might have about a century on the other male. That didn't stop him feeling like a toddling child around Rowan, who watched everything with predatory closeness and who had the kind of relationship with his wife one might dream of.
Rhys knew now, why Aelin had fought so hard to get the the top of Ramiel, why she had hidden so much from them up until now. Rowan was something worthy of protecting, as was the monstrous yet breath-taking white wolf.
The High Lord had had to consciously make his voice smooth earlier, when asking Rowan if he wanted to join them. Azriel, who had been nearby at the time, was still shooting mocking looks at him. Oh Rhys was going to pummel his spymaster into the dirt for that, even a High Lord was allowed to be nervous once in a while.
They had wandered down to the semi-enclosed space behind the wall at the end of the garden. It had been important to have fully equipped training rings, but equally important it was out of sight from the garden. The Inner Circle didn't like feeling constantly at war.
Now however, Rhys was glad for the wall so that Feyre couldn't see him get his ass handed to him. If Rowan could go toe to toe with Cassian for Cauldron's sake, then Mother save Rhys for he was going to eat dirt.
The three Illyrian's were curiously watching Rowan to see how he prepared for sparring. In the war camp a few days prior there had been no foreplay to their duels. Here however, they could take their time and make sure to stretch.
Cassian pointedly started his own exercises but Azriel stood just out of Rowan's eyeline and flickered his own body in shadow while he started some gentle movements. Or at least, as gentle a movement as Azriel could do while holding a wicked longsword and a shorter dagger in his other hand.
Rhys did his best to make conversation, not overly keen to spend hours of his day in dead silence with heavily armed warriors. "I assume you train daily Rowan, how many hours do you manage between your duties?"
The other male was meandering through their weapons racks like the deadly blades there were mere childrens' toys. He didn't look too interested in conversation, and when he glanced up at Rhys he wanted to shrink away from those icy eyes. Gods this male was terrifying.
"I manage at least 2 hours in the morning before breakfast, then usually another hour during the day. I have a lot of work to get on with and my job sometimes require I travel," Rowan shrugged dismissively, his voice soft all the while he spoke. "I've been doing it long enough it's no bother."
Rhys couldn't help but notice the hint of bitterness there and instead directed the conversation towards Cassian. "That's about the same as you, so you've got no excuse for losing."
His general, instead of looking irritated just grinned. "Oh no little Rhysie, I do believe it's your turn." Azriel held in a chuckle, likely realising he was already on thin ice. Rhys still glared at him before responding to the general, "Are you giving me orders now Cassian?"
Rhys couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride when Rowan's lips twitched upwards into a smirk. They were both slightly surprised however, when Azriel moved forward from where he had been warming up and tipped his head towards one of the rings in invitation towards Rowan. "They'll be at this for a while." Azriel's voice was no more than a whisper of shadow but the icy male followed without complaint.
Ever the spymaster. Rhys couldn't help but mentally drawl to Cassian, who's face tightened to hold in his smile. "Mocking Azriel is not going to make me go easy on you High Lord." The general deliberately raised his voice and looked pleased when Azriel gave a low growl in response. So add another person to the list who was angry with Rhys, he was sure this may even be Azriel's 600th entry.
The High Lord didn't have enough braincells to watch the fight behind him because Cassian used up all of them to make a fool of him. In effort to avoid getting his head crushed, Rhys let it go. At least Azriel wasn't pushing Rowan's buttons, the two of them were exchanging in swift but pulled blows, testing the waters.
The pair had decided to forgo any weapons and just brawl it out. Rowan seemed cautious of the wings and tried some different tactics to feel out what did and didn't work with them. Azriel followed much the same strategy with trying to feel out the strange male's rythyms, but even the talented shadowsinger couldn't seem to follow.
Rowan certainly packed a punch and although Azriel tried to cover the fact his neck nearly snapped upon impact the slight shock in his eyes betrayed his surprise. Rhys could feel at least the slow prowl of the two behind them between the swiftly exchanged blows even if he couldn't see them.
Cassian obviously won their duel, the general looked like he had gone on a light jog, but Rhys was panting. There were a few nicks on his body from light slices Cassian had gleefully given him but they were healing quickly.
He finally got a look at the other sparring pair but they had already stopped. Azriel's face was a mask of politeness and Rowan was equally quiet as they stood beside each other like old comrades. Rhys hadn't been ignorant to Azriel's growing closeness to the outside trio, yet now he saw in a new light the friendliness they offered him that was not extended to anyone else.
The wolf reemerged from where he had been sniffing around the plethora of weapons and padded over to his companion and Azriel. The spymaster glanced down at the beast who just licked his hand cheerfully and pottering off again with a snuffle. Rowan raised a single eyebrow with an expression which said 'Just ignore me then.'
Azriel's small smile at the wolf's interaction flickered out, as he caught a glance of the Rowab's face, forcing his own expression straight back into a cold mask. Rowan just smirked at him, eyes glittering with amusement. Rhys watched curiously as his spymaster's face brightened in response and then exchanged a genuine smile with the other male.
Cassian shoved Rhys in the back without warning and let out a thunderous whoop, "Time to go brother dear, you've got a new foe to fight."
Rowan's face slipped back to it's usualy coldness as he dipped his head in agreement and turned, following the wolf to where he had wandered. Rhys started to wonder if they were underestimating the creature, for he seemed to have picked out a range of dangerous tools for the Fae male.
The High Lord dawdled over to see what they were up to and found handpicked - or rather pawpicked - weapons laid out on the ground, Rowan was nearly finished strapping them to his body when Rhys got close enough to see. When the male turned Rhys had to consciously not take a step back due to how fast Rowan turned with narrowing eyes.
He held up his hands in an apology and gave his best grin, "That's a lot of blades."
The white-haired male just sighed as he tucked in the last straps, "Magic?" A male of few words then, although he seemed more open when his lovely wife Aelin was around. That was also a strange dynamic, but it worked well.
"I'm happy to if you'd like, there's barriers around this area so we won't damage the house."
Rowan simply dipped his head in acknowledgement and stalked ahead of Rhys to reach one of the training rings. The male toed the ground in assessment before looking up to stonily meet Rhys's eyes.
The High Lord couldn't help the self-conscious smile as Cassian and Azriel moved to the side to watch, the wolf settling by the shadowsinger's feet like the first time they had sparred.
Still, now he was going to have to focus on the large muscled male who looked like he was about to splatter Rhys into the ground.
While he himself would first reach for his magic in a one on one, Rowan had a blade inches away from his throat in less than a second. On instinct he blocked with his magic before swinging up with his own sword to hold the other male off.
When people think they're going to die, they make mistakes. Upon seeing Rowan's glittering eyes Rhys had become aware of exactly who he had welcomed into his home and who he was now allowing weapons to be in the hands of. The thought stopped Rhys from blocking the deep cut Rowan got into his lower leg. He cursed and shot back, holding his sword up infront of him to buy himself a moment to think.
He decided his best bet would be magic and so he wrapped the dark around them without much effort. The growl that Rowan let out would make any Fae's knees shake with Rhys held firm. The eternal black didn't faze Rowan as much as he had expected it to, the other male seemed to feel the world around him still.
Rhys realised it may be the fact he could control air, that he could simply feel out the world and location of things with his magic. Wild Fae also had much better senses, even than High Fae who were exceptionally more adept than the humans who echoed them.
Rowan swung a blade at Rhys's exposed side, while a fist with icy claws slammed hard and fast into his thigh. He managed to block the blade, but the ice pierced his shield and forced him to dart sideways to avoid backing out the ring.
The male still attacked relentlessly with blades and fists, and Rhys found he was the one struggling with the dark. There was a murmur that told him Rowan was behind him as the male growled, "You're not the first I've met."
Rhys was incredibly curious as to what he meant, but had no time to ponder the thought as he blocked another blow which if left unchecked would have decapitated him. No one in his court fought so violently with him, Wild Fae were something else that was for sure.
Eventually Cassian shouted grumpily, "This is no fun Rhysie, let us see you get your ass kicked! Come on!"
Azriel muttered something Rhys didn't hear, likely suggesting the two of them duel while they wait but he allowed the darkness to clear before they started towards that plan. He reckoned it hadn't been making much of a difference anyway and it would be a good thing for his two closest friends to watch this powerful male fight.
Rhys was more and more impressed by the second, Illyrians had been fighting the same way for a long time, but Rowan seemed to have welded multiple cultures styles into his own unique whirlwind of moves. It would seem Wild Fae had no rules to their bladesmanship nor magic uses, making him the first truly ruleless fighter Rhys had ever met blade to blade.
He felt a deep uneasiness that Rowan hadn't been bothered by his magic, the male was in fact dispensing small amounts of his own power. Great control was displayed as Rowan weaved tendrils of winter into his swift and brutual swings, punches and kicks.
Occassionally Rhys summoned shields only for magic more ancient than his to unwind the temporary spells in a heartbeat, with little input from the wielder. It seemed impossible that these strange Fae would ever fit back into the world he knew. Althought Rhys also wondered if it was just Rowan, Aelin didn't show much power.
Again he reminded himself, perhaps this wasn't the time to try and put a puzzle together. At least if he wanted to keep himself in one piece. Cassian was quiet now, watching with an eagle eye. Not on Rhys however, he was observing every twitch of muscle in Rowan's body as the male thoroughly flattened Rhys in physical combat. The magic was slightly better matched at least.
Rowan was acting as if Rhys was a lot more powerful magically, but he didn't trust the strange thrum of overflowing strength which was flooding out of the white-haired male whenever he moved. Ice cut through Rhysand's darkness and the wind buffered with his balance, the rain turning to hail just to hit him square in the face. No matter how he tried to shield Rowan tore through it like butter.
Rhys would be honest in that he wasn't giving it his best, he could likely end this in seconds but this was a spar, not a full fight. So he allowed Rowan to efficiently turn him to confetti strips, and marvelled at the humming of the magic which roiled in the male's veins, magic which felt like it didn't belong.
The pair fought for about an hour before the two observing Illyrians began their own fight next to them. Rhys tried to focus as he blasted a wall of deathly night towards Rowan, who simply let it ripple over his own sturdy shield of air. He no longer worried as he did with his brothers, simply threw whatever magic he willed and pulled no punches, his oppenent seemed more comfortable with that and they were both bleeding from multiple places.
The High Lord of Night's powers didn't really like Rowan's own. At first they had nearly baulked, as if they could sense something he couldn't, and were begging him collectively to reconsider fighting this male. He had pushed on, power shooting away from him in waves all the while Rowan used minimal exertions, seeming more comfortable to cut Rhysand down with his own hands before exhausting his magic.
This was probably the most telling factor in the conclusion that Rowan had walked battlefields, the male was effective to a fault and never considered tiring himself for petty reasons like Rhys managing to nick his arm.
Their bout only ended because Rhys was tired, he had also gathered that while he may be a century older than Rowan, as a High Lord he had spent that time training with the same people each morning and doing paperwork. This male on the other hand appeared to have spent his time fighting in endless war given that he was not even nearing tiredness and it had been 2 hours.
The High Lord simply dropped his weapon with a clatter on the sand, the sound attracting all nearby attention. Exasperated, Rhys gave a dramatic shrug, "I fancy a drink."
Cassian started pissing himself with laughter, but Azriel and Rowan just exchanged a look and sheathed their swords in near synchronised motions. Creepy. Rowan kept glancing at Azriel as well, like he didn't want to, but couldn't help but watch him. Rhys reflected that Aelin had often acted the same, perhaps he should ask Azriel about that.
Shrugging off the exhausting thoughts which had been plaguing him all morning, Rhys summoned them all water and even a bowl for the wolf, who was panting slightly in the warm morning light.
The group of them flopped down into cool metal chairs and drank deeply. "Your world is warm for spring." Rowan half-grunted, pouring himself another glass.
Cassian was the one to chuckle, "Your wife made it very clear to us that our prized 'freezing cold mountains' weren't cutting it." Rowan just snorted and shook his head before drinking more, he emptied the second half of his refilled glass into the bowl which the wolf had finished just as quickly. In a rare display of affection, Rowan ruffled the white fur and gave a quiet sigh which Rhys couldn't understand.
While they drank, Cassian went oddly quiet for a moment before carefully asking Rhys, "What are the plans for tomorrow?"
A cautious prod in the sleeping beast's side, now he had the option of explaining what was happening infront of Rowan, or brushing it off to speak of later in private company. Cassian may not think he was a good courtier, but he was definitely learning some tricks of the trade.
As intimidating as the Wild Fae was, he was relatively cheery and apart from his growling upon first meeting him, Rhys didn't feel he would be harmful. Or at least he had though that until the several times Rowan had proved to be a murderous Fae bastard, part of the charm he supposed.
But still, Cassian nor Azriel had objections to allowing Rowan at him with a sword. The two of them had deliberately fought him before Rhys to ensure he wasn't actually trying to kill people, despite his strange way of sparring like he was going to kill you, Rhys agreed he was relatively safe. So long as they didn't harm the wolf or Aelin that was.
"We'll head to Glendalough after breakfast." He announced, Rowan remained unmoving in his chair, waiting to see if he was included. "Glendalough was one of the wrecked cities under Amarantha's reign, it's over by the east coast but it's an inland city." Rhys explained further, causing Rowan to slowly raise his head with increasing interest.
"So we're visiting to try and scare them back into behaving." Cassian gave a dark chuckle, "Plus we get to go partying."
Rhys couldn't hold in his sigh, "We are not there for the night life, there is one ball during the time we are there and it will be a political affair."
He couldn't help but notice Rowan didn't look uncomfortable or surprised about the purpose of the trip. Azriel was the one to quietly ask however, having realised he was closer to the otherworlders than the rest of his family.
"Have you ever been on trips like this with your work?" The spymaster inquired.
Rowan had been even quieter than usual today when they mentioned his work, he wasn't a loud male to begin with but it was noticeable, especially in comparison to the Court of Nightmares the night before.
"I've been on a fair few. I would be sent to places with some companions and told to brawl on the streets until people were so scared to go out at night there was no more illegal trade." Rowan glanced to Azriel before adding, "Companions such as Lorcan for example."
Rhys was surprised, both Aelin and her husband had been incredibly uptight with the use of names of people they knew, and here Rowan was sharing one without need to. A flicker of his memory reminded him that he'd heard the name before, but he couldn't quite remember. Azriel however had no issue with continuing converasation, "He must have be powerful to have fought alongside you."
It was a strange friendship, Azriel was quiet and wicked, yet Rowan seemed like he could get along with Rhys or Cassian just as easily if he wanted to. It was almost like Rowan wanted to know Azriel, for he snorted and gave a shrug, "He was the commander of my group."
That caused Cassian to spit out his water and have a coughing fit. "He was stronger than you?!"
Rowan just narrowed his eyes pissily. "No, but he was older and had been serving longer." Rhys carefully placed down his glass before asking his own question.
"You use past tense?" He softened his voice enough so it would not seem provocative.
"I changed employment." Rowan's voice was dry, almost with a twinge of humour. "This time he was the one who followed me to my new service, but we're both married now and our wives are friends." The male shrugged non-committally, "It's a good positition, much more family-friendly. My wife is the one who scares people now."
Azriel, who of course had been keeping the best track of everything they were told, just looked interested so Rhys assumed it was all fitting together. It was fortunate he supposed, that this mystery commander was not dead, as Rowan looked like the kind who wouldn't take being asked about it well.
"Was that when you moved kingdom?" Cassian asked as he stretched out his limbs in the sunny spot he occupied, accidentally half-kicking the wolf who let out a low growl, but he seemed to be joking.
"I moved away from that work to Adarlan, met Aelin and we left for her homeland." The married couple had obviously spoken, for Rowan gave no extra names that Aelin had not already provided. Azriel was now running his fingers over one of his daggers, seeming quite happy to listen to the conversation he had triggered.
Rowan seemed to have different ideas for he rose to his feet again and stretched a couple of times as the others also got out of their seats. Rhys understood what it meant, conversation over.
"We've got all day until dinner, I'll outline the plans while we're all together." Rhys couldn't help but feel slightly wounded when all Rowan gave was a grunt of acknowledgement and Cassian had to fill the silence with his arrogant tones.
"That means plenty of time for us to compare techniques! We could show you the Illyrian style!" Ah, so Rhys was not the only one who wanted this warrior's approval, and Azriel seemed to be the only one blessed with it.
The white-haired male just drew an Illyrian sword from one of the racks and raised an eyebrow at the general in request for an explanation of the blade.
Cassian was eager to talk about weapons and explain some of the techniques Illyrians used. Rhys wasn't bothered about teaching Rowan how to defeat their forces, he was on par with Cassian when it came to sword skills already and he would be a fool to use Illyrian methods when fighting any of his Court who were experts in the field.
Rhys considered what his day looked like, semi-awkward conversation and fighting, just like old times. He would get Azriel to explain why he seemed to know things and hadn't told Rhys, though he supposed the shadowed male was planning to tell him after dinner with Mor and subsequently not wanted to disturb his family trip with Feyre and Devdan.
A different form of work today, but a welcome one.
AN: I possibly sat for 5 minutes trying to work out where the "when people think they're gonna die they make mistakes" thing came from before realising - it's Assassination Classroom, please tell me someone else remembers the fucking amazing scene. Also I really should edit this but I'm supposed to be leaving the house in like 10 minutes so whoops. Hope you all enjoyed, this wasn't supposed to be so long but guess I have no control! I can't write detailed sword fights so thats why this chapter was lacking, hope the rest made up for it. Also I just feel like everyone would try to impress Rowan cause he's so cold and I like the idea of Rhys being a bit of a simp. Hopefully the next chapter will be up in a few days and that you all enjoy!