The war was over against Hybern. He was dead, his armies along with him, leaving them to continue their lives as they pleased. But the Illyrian Camps had a civil war rising, making the men who trained there uneasy. The women in the camps were mistreated and were fed up with the inequality. They wanted to train, wanted to help. Cassian and Azriel obviously have no objection with that, but it's hard to regulate how the women are being treated when they're not present all the time and the camp leaders disagree with the woman fighting.
So here they are, sitting in the Autumn Courts dining hall, awaiting Beron and his Court. They needed to negotiate some terms on their alliance. Needed to approve putting more of his soldiers around the camps to protect the woman and regulate the laws.
The Inner Circle sat around the sitting area by the long dining table, awaiting their hosts. A fire was burning in a fireplace in the corner of the room, its crackling being the only sound present. Rhysand and Feyre sat on the love seat closest to the fire, Rhys' arm laid over Feyre's shoulders as she leaned into him. Mor and Cassian were seated on the long couch opposite of the love seat, the former flipping through a magazine she found on the coffee table in front of her and while the ladder picked at his fingernails. Azriel stood by the wide window facing out to the lowering sun over the colorful forest ahead. He was almost invisible in his lingering shadows as he swept the manor and land around it for any danger. He had searched the area three times, just in case something had slipped through his shadows.
Azriel heard the wide double doors open and footsteps pad in as he turned, dropping his shadows to only have them swirling around his shoulders. Three of Lucien's brothers, which Azriel only knew the name of one, strode into the room, the setting sun catching in their red hair.
"Rhysand, Feyre, how lovely it is to have you here this evening." Eris walked up to Azriel's High Lord and Lady, bowing his head slightly and kissing Feyre's hand. Azriel stepped up to the side of the couch that Mor and Cassian occupied. Feyre and Rhysand stood in unison, causing Mor and Cassian to do the same.
"Thank you for having us at such short notice, Eris." The High Lord said, turning towards the three brothers and nodding his head as a thanks.
"Our Father should be here any second. He got caught up with a complication but shouldn't be too long." One of the brothers on either side of Eris said, looking towards the doors nervously. Azriel noticed the man shifting from one foot to the other and the way he wrung his hands behind his back as his eyes jumped from the Inner Circle to the doors and back.
"We apologize for the wait. You see, we have been very busy lately, with the war just ending and all." Eris spoke, placing his hands behind his back like his other brothers had them.
As Feyre opened her mouth to reply, the sound of the double doors opening stopped her, as two figures walked into the room, one slightly hidden behind the other. Beron strode over to the group by the fireplace, a small female trailing behind him, her eyes on the floor.
Azriel had never seen the girl that now stood next to Beron, her hands placed in front of her with her fingers intertwined. Her shining auburn was in a bun behind her head and she wore a grey dress that swept over her thin and fragile body. Azriel's shadows, suddenly present, started whispering to him, filling in the blanks of her identity.
He couldn't focus on them for long though, as someone squealing had broken his concentration.
"Freesia? Is it really you?" Mor was sprinting across the floor now towards the stranger girl that started trembling next to the High Lord of Autumn. "I- I thought you were married off. Over in the Spring Courts with some High Fae!" Mor grabbed Freesia by the shoulders, pulling her into an embrace as the two girls shook with sobs.
After a moment, Freesia pulled away, tears lining her eyes, "It's been too long, sister." The girl said, her hand cupping Mor's face.
"I don't understand. Where have you been? Why are you here?" Mor's hysteria was starting to calm as she held her friend.
"I- I-" Freesia stammered, conflicted in her face. She took a deep breath, her eyes shooting towards Beron before settling back onto Mor. "Yes, I'm sorry. I did marry a High Fae male in the Spring Court. He's recently passed, explaining why I have found myself back home." Freesia said, her sudden calmness making Azriel suspicious of her situation.
Lies. She lies for the High Lord, Shadowsinger.
Azriel's shadows whisper to him, telling him all of what they had learned about the girl in front of Mor. As they whispered, Azriel silently cringed at the realization of her situation. He had to get her out. He had to help her.
Azriel calmed his shadows as he followed the group over to the dining table, taking his seat in between Cassian and Feyre, across from Freesia and Mor. Beron sat at the head of the table while his three sons flanked his sides, Eris sitting next to Freesia as the other two brothers sat next to Rhysand on the other side of their father.
The rest of the night flew by quickly as Azriel observed the girl and Mor's conversations, registering Freesia's lies and planning out ways for him to get her out. He could wait in the shadows until everyone had fallen asleep and take her in the night. But his spies had told him of her locked windows and the Sentry placed outside her door, and how this manor was warded against winnowing.
He sighed through his nose, annoyance at the difficulty making his head hurt. He would have to leave her here for the night and come back in the morning. He would wait until she was alone and in a place where he could get to her and fly her back to the townhouse.
He'd have to tell Mor as well, even if it would break her heart. The dinner had come to an end, after all the negotiating and planning had been taken care of. Rhysand dismissed us, thanking Beron for dinner, and headed for the doors with Feyre on his arm. Cassian went next, walking to the balcony and lifting into the skies. Azriel waited for Mor to say her goodbyes and then took off into the skies as well after watching Mor winnow, outside the wards.
They were all in the town house living room by the time Azriel made his way back. Feyre had popped some campaign and was now pouring everyone glasses as Elain came in from upstairs.
Azriel waited for everyone to have their drinks before he stepped up from the corner he had been occupying as his shadows watched over the girl back at Autumn Court. He walked up a few steps, clearing his throat to get everyone's attention. The room went silent, now focused on Azriel.
"My shadows picked up on something while at the Autumn Court that needs to be shared with the rest of you. Most importantly, Mor." Azriel spoke clearly as he looked to everyone around the room, settling onto Mor's gaze. "The girl that was there tonight, Freesia, was lying to you about where she has been." Mor's eyes turned worried and sad as she stared up at Azriel.
"My shadows have discovered that when the girl was sixteen years old, after her mother died, Beron had tossed her into the dungeons far below the Manor, and warded her cell so my shadows could not see her. She has been down there for five centuries." Azriel ripped his eyes from Mor's as tears fell onto her cheeks.
"He had only let her up today out of fear that my shadows would break through the wards, with me being so close, and give us automatic permission to take her from him with the law of abuse in act. But with her now being out of the dungeons, we cannot just simply walk in and take her." Azriel trained his eyes on the floor. Everyone was speechless, trying to find something to say, coming up blank.
"I'm going back tomorrow morning to wait for an opportunity to grab her and fly her back here. I have my shadows watching her now, in case something happens and I have to go back tonight." Azriel waited for someone to say something. The whole room was silent, the only sound being the crackling of the fireplace. Mor was the first to break the silence.
"I can't believe I didn't figure it out." Her tears were coming back now, dripping onto her dress. "I left her alone there, for 500 years." She covered her mouth with her hand to block the sob that racked her body. Feyre had her hands wrapped around Mor's body as she turned and buried her face into Feyre's shoulder.
"It's not your fault, Mor. It was warded off. No one could have known." Feyre ran her hand over Mor's hair as she whispered into her head.
Slowly, Mor lifted her head, her eyes puffy and rimmed with red as they landed on Azriel. Pure rage shone through her gaze, making even Azriel shudder under the weight of her stare.
"When we get her out-" She looked around the room, meeting everyone's eyes as she passed them, "I'm going to burn that house to the ground, with them in it."