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achaotichuman · 5 months

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An AU where tamlin (disguised as female) and rhysand fall in love tthen tamlins like wait i have to tell u something then rhys finds outs hes tamlin and undergoes a sexuality crisis

YES, I LOVE THIS PROMPT. Don't know why but this is giving me a Cinderella retelling vibe. Btw sorry for the late response anon, but here's how I think this would go down.

*Trigger Warning- Innuendoes, non-explicit mature content.*

The white trail of her dress was like an angel's wings dragging across stone carved from the mountains of Hell. Lace lined her arms and the top of her breasts. A long slit ran up the side of her thigh, revealing the same lace work hugging her legs.

Golden hair spilled down her back and shoulders, flowers and rings of gold weaved through those luscious strands. Her shoulders and collarbone deliciously bare, off the shoulder sleeves hung over the lace of her forearms. An angel indeed, left in the company of devils.

Rhysand watched her from his throne. His eyes locked in on those slender legs as they moved her through the crowd. The females eyed her, disgust twisting in their face, constricting their eyes and noses. Males stepped out of her way as she moved past them like fluid.

A powerful, or perhaps idiotic, decision to wear such garments, not a stain on the white silk. A symbol of purity, as if anyone from this Godforsaken city could be called pure.

She looked up to the throne set high above the people below it. Her eyes were of the deepest green, as if they had been sucked from the heart of a forest, flecked with gold like stars. Their gazes locked and for a moment, the world ceased to exist, everything turning to a black void and low drone of voices. Even though her head was tilted up to see him, Rhysand couldn't help but feel like she was looking down on him, like his existence was worth little more to her than whoever else wished for her presence in bed, or hand in marriage.

Then she turned away, she turned away and every nerve in his body burned for her to look at him again.

What was this strange, heady feeling? Rhysand tilted his head, watching as she walked back into the crowd, unable to disappear from view, as she was a sliver of light in the sea of black and deep Night Court purple.

'Are you staring at her?' A familiar laughing voice boomed in his head. Rhysand allowed the smallest of smirks as he cast his eyes in the direction of his friend and General.

Cassian grinned back from his place beside Azriel, stationed close to the throne but not close enough that they overshadowed him.

'There are many 'hers' here tonight, Cass, enlighten me on which you speak of.'

'Oh, don't be so formal, High lord. The pretty one in the white dress, everyone's lookin at her.' He murmured it in such a low tone Rhysand had to suppress the urge to snap.

'Careful Cass,' Azriel murmured through the mental bond, 'Rhysand's already called first bite.'

'There is no first bite, Azriel.' Rhysand replied smoothly, 'Though it is a... proud choice to wear such clothing.'

'A cocky choice more like it.' There was Mor, Rhysand was wondering when she would but in with her opinion, 'To wear robes like that when our Court uniform is solely black, blue and purple is insulting at the least, an act of defiance at worst.'

'Calm yourself, Mor. She hasn't done anything as of yet.' Rhysand drawled.

'Apart from looking like an angel with her wings cut off.' Cassian said.

'Get back to work you three.' Rhysand ordered, shutting out the tones of his friends before resuming his former position, sitting on an oversized throne being bored as all Hell.

Rhysand scanned the ballroom again, watching the waltzing taking place before him. The deep, low tones of the music in the air hummed like background noise, nothing more than decorative festivities meant to give the people an opportunity to move their bodies in a fashion that wasn't simply standing around.

Music had never been the Hewn City's strong point. Such artistry was better off in Velaris, where good people could actually be found.

Rhysand sighed, if the Darkbringer's army wasn't so powerful he would have had Azriel and Cassian bring the foundations of this place down and allow the wicked cruelty festering down here to be crushed. That's all these people deserved after all.

Too lost in his own bored musings, Rhysand failed to notice the swift, silent steps coming for him until she was standing directly before him.

Rhysand near jolted but forced his body to remain calm. Up close she was even more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

Her arms were toned and muscular, her waist clipped and hips flaring out to show off curvy thighs. For a moment the urge to grab them squeeze pricked his mind.

"You are standing before the throne, yet you are not on your knees?" Rhysand hummed, his voice deceivingly kind.

The female before him wasn't stupid and he figured that out quickly by the hardened glare she gave him. But it was clear to see she lacked fear of consequence, because the first words she spoke to him were, "Do you always just sit on your ass on this throne, or will you actually mingle with your own people?"

Rhysand opened and closed his mouth, completely and utterly at a loss for words.

"I beg your pardon."

"My pardon is granted; now will you answer my question?"

Rhysand stared at her, unable to form a coherent sentence that did not entail yelling his indignation. So, he opted for a gentle brush of his talons against her mind.

Finally, she narrowed her eyes and took a slight step back on instinct, remembering how dangerous the male before her truly was.

"Are you drunk, lady? Or perhaps do you lack self-preservation? You stand before my throne, asking insulting questions and assuming you give pardon to me?"

She tilted her head to the side as if she was truly pondering his question, "It has been mentioned that I lack any real self-preservation, but I like to call it a lack of tolerance for entitled self-serving Night Court royals."

Rhysand couldn't help it, he snorted, a quick, genuine sound. He had no idea how it even slipped past his defenses. Her lips quirked up in a slight grin, counting his reaction as a win on her side. He quickly coughed into his hand trying to cover the sound but that only seemed to serve to amuse her more.

"What is your purpose in antagonizing me, lady?"

"I am not antagonizing; I am asking a genuine question. Are you going to sit on your ass for the whole party, or will you join the festivities?"

"I'd hardly call this," He gestured to the stiff, tense dancing- if one could call it that- taking place below them, "Dancing."

She glanced at the people behind her, then she looked over him again. Her green eyes so sharp as they swooped up and down him like a predator's watchful gaze.

Even though she was but another Hewn City citizen that he could have tortured and executed if he wished for it, Rhysand couldn't help but feel as though he was not the one in control.

"Perhaps the people would be more responsive if their ruler joined them instead of sitting up so high above them." She crossed her arms, shifting her weight to her left leg as she waited for his reaction.

"Who are you to tell me how to rule my people?"

She grinned at his scowl. A grin with bone white teeth and sharp, gleaming fangs. Between that glowing smile and the way those gold specks in her eyes seemed to shine brighter, Rhysand felt his world shift from one side to the other and it was dizzying.

"I am the person telling you to get off your ass and come dance." She said.

Rhysand blinked his violet eyes; she blinked her green ones back.

"Are-are you asking me to dance?"

"No."

"No?"

She took his hand in her own. Her hands weren't soft and dainty, no, they were calloused and firm. Hands like his. Hands that were used.

She tugged and Rhysand, adding horror to curiosity, followed her silent order. He stood up.

The High lord was marginally taller than the female before him. But he was surprised at her height regardless. In a good set of heels, she would surely surpass him.

She was playing some game, doing something to him that Rhysand couldn't figure out.

"Asking would insinuate you had a choice to dance or not, you're dancing with me, that's final." Her cheeky pink tongue slid across her fangs, red spread across Rhysand's face. A strip of blotchy red that undoubtedly did not escape her cunning eyes.

Sucking in a breath, Rhysand tried to find the will to rebuke her. But before he even got a sentence out, she was pulling him down to the dance floor.

Looking out at the sea of people. Rhysand watched as jaws dropped and eyes widened. Even the music from the orchestra faltered for a moment as eyes went to the feared High lord of Night being half-dragged by a strange, beautiful female in a dress of pure white.

When Rhysand's eyes snapped to those watching they quickly resumed their ministrations. Pointedly not making any eye-contact with the Lord or the mysterious lady.

Once in the center of the room, she spun on her heel and put a hand to his shoulder, forcibly placing his hand on her waist. Then she smiled up at him. A beautiful display of pearly whites with a sweet gaze.

"Well High lord? Show us all what talents you keep hidden while you're sitting on the throne."

*** "What do you mean she can't be found?!" Rhysand yelled, Azriel didn't so much as flinch, Rhysand did notice the slight roll of his eyes.

"I mean no one can find her. Like she just," Azriel gestured to nothing, "Disappeared into the night air, and from what I've gathered, no one had ever seen her before."

"What does that mean?" The High lord hissed, knowing very well what that meant.

"It means your little crush wasn't from the Hewn City, somehow she snuck in there. Which means she could be from anywhere."

"Impossible. It's impossible to leave the Hewn City or enter it without my permission." Rhysand stood up from his chair, walking away from his desk and towards the large window behind him. Looking out over the view of Velaris. Soft evening sun was upon the world, casting tall shadows over the ground and filling the air with a soft cool breeze. The scattered lights of the city looked like stars on Earth.

"Even if she somehow snuck in as you say, she couldn't have left. The security is to tight."

"I don't know what to tell you Rhysand, she danced with you then disappeared."

"Impossible." Rhysand repeated shaking his head.

Her waist in his hand had been like heaven pressed against him. Looking down into her eyes are they moved, spun and turned had been a religious experience. Nothing in the world compared to her long fingers travelling up his neck to brush the underside of his chin. No drug in the world could ever get him higher then when she had let him spin her away from the ballroom.

"Hello, Night Court to Rhysand!" Cassian smacked the side of his head. Rhysand reeled around and went to punch him right in the throat, but the larger male caught his arm before he could get close.

"Give it up, Rhys, it's been a week. The girl's not comin back." His General told him.

"You don't get it, Cass. She..." How could he move on from that. From the heady feeling of her hands on his body, travelling to find any skin not protected by his clothing. Nothing could compare to her heavenly voice whispering back-handed compliments and jokes about him stepping on her toes.

"Cassian's right, Rhys. Let it go. Who knows? Maybe you'll find her again. For now, we have other priorities." Azriel insisted.

With a strained groan, Rhysand turned back to the window and put his hands to his head.

They were right, of course they were right.

But how could he focus on other things when he could only feel her lips on his skin when he led her out into the dark, empty hallways, away from the ballroom?

***

He dreamt of her. He dreamt of that night. Of her dress flaring out, brushing his legs as they danced. He dreamt of her laughter, a honey-sweet sound in the midst of so much darkness. He dreamt of her knowing smile, and the expression on her face. As if whatever game she was playing, she had won.

He dreamt of whispering in her ear. Turning up his charm, trying, near desperate for a chance as she seduced him within an inch of his life.

He dreamt of her hands wrapping around the collar of his shirt and her telling him to make it worth her while.

Pinning her against the cold wall. Rhysand buried his nose into the crook of her neck. She laughed and buried her fingers in his dark hair, pulling until he looked back into her eyes.

She smirked, a glint of danger in her eyes. Quicker than his hazy brain could think, she jutted her head down and nipped his neck, leaving a small bite mark. Rhysand near lost his damn mind. Roughly grabbing her hips he shoved her more forcefully against the wall. His own head going down onto her neck. Leaving darkened bruises on her pale skin.

She clicked her tongue, "So rough, needy, are we?"

"Gods above."

"The Gods aren't down here, High lord. No one but the devil is watching our sins." She murmured in such a seductively low tone; Rhysand may have lost a part of his mind to her in that very moment.

Trying to keep his thoughts on one track. Rhysand moved his hands up and down her thighs, bunching her skirts in his hands. Her breaths turned heavy, and her face went a splotchy red. Rhysand felt a smirk matching hers curling on his lips.

"You're right. No one's here to see how the Lord of Night plays with such alluring delights like you."

"All talk. No play." She drawled.

"Not one for foreplay, darling?"

"I'm one for proving you know how to wield the thing between your legs, darlin."

Rhysand loosened a near feral noise. But as he went to push back her skirts to reveal what was between her legs, the loud ringing of the stroke of midnight rang true through the Hewn City.

She sucked in a breath and drew back from him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Is something amiss, lady?" Rhysand asked, trying to keep the hot, heady feeling of the moment but concerned for her reaction.

"Midnight." She whispered.

"Yes, lady." Perhaps she was on a curfew, that was true for a great number of females in this City, "Do not worry over any curfew, I will grant you-"

"No," She sharply pulled away from him, forcing his hands off her, "No, no, I have to leave."

"Lady, I-"

"This was good," She smiled, it was girlish smile that he hadn't seen before, almost an apology for her hasty escape, "This was good, but I must go."

Then she was sprinting down the hall. Dress following her like a cape. Rhysand watched her, stunned into immobility.

He looked at the place she had just been, then a vital thought crossed his mind. He didn't have her name. Without another thought, the High lord of Night found himself racing after her.

"Lady! My Lady, wait!" He called out, but she didn't slow. Grabbing the edge of a corner she whirled around and was gone from Rhysand's eyes.

As he rounded the corner and stared down the dark hallway. She was gone. Disappeared into thin air. If it weren't for her floral scent clinging to everything he was, he would've convinced himself she was never there.

***

Rhysand dug his spoon into the tasteless porridge before him. Flinging small scraps onto the table. He pointedly didn't look at any of his family.

After Rhysand set his cup of near empty coffee on the table with an unnecessarily loud clang, Mor growled, "Rhysand, what is your problem?"

"Nothing is my problem, Morrigan." He hissed back, finally looking up to meet her equally hateful stare.

"He's lusting after the angel he saw two weeks ago in the Hewn City. Mad he can't find her again." Cassian dobbed on him. Grinning as he swallowed his own breakfast.

"Angel? You mean the girl wearing white?" Morrigan rolled her eyes, "She was arrogant for wearing that. It was practically bridal wear."

"She looked like a Goddess on Earth." Rhysand cut her off.

Morrigan levelled him with a hard stare, "Rhysand, leave the shitty poetry for Tamlin."

Azriel nearly choked on his coffee as he started giggling, his shoulders shaking. Rhysand growled at all of them, "I don't understand how no one has seen her since. Azriel, instead of laughing, how about you go and make sure the sentries at the Hewn City aren't skimping on their jobs?"

Azriel held up his hands, in an 'I'm innocent' manner, "Don't snap at me. I have checked every nook and cranny. Skewered every sentry for information. No one saw her enter, and no one saw her leave."

Cassian hummed in a low tone, "There could be a weakness in the Hewn Cities defenses allowing people to enter and leave as they please."

"Which means you both check again. From top to bottom, side to side, I don't want one household, one corridor, one room unaccounted for."

"Yes, Lord fell in love after one dance." Cassian taunted as he stood from the dining table. Looking at Azriel, he jutted his head to the door and the Shadowsinger nodded. Standing up he gave Rhysand a warning glare, before he followed his brother out the door.

Only Mor and Rhysand were left in the room. Not for long as Morrigan stood up, picking up her plate before she looked down at Rhysand.

"That female was in the wrong for wearing a white dress. Don't waste your feelings on such women." Mor warned him, before disappearing as well.

Rhysand never got the chance to tell his cousin, that the cocky, self-assured attitude that female had was half the reason he was going insane for her.

***

A year passed and Rhysand never saw the female again. But he didn't forget that night. It repeated in his head over and over. He examined every word, every expression, every shift of her lips or eyebrows. Every movement of her dress shifting on her body. He didn't forget. Couldn't forget. In his hottest fantasies he sought out the feeling of her skin under his fingers, in his darkest nightmares it was her warmth he was drawn too.

Over and over, he spun himself in circles. Trying to forget and move on, but lulled back into her memory like she lived in his head. Always finding him, never letting him leave. At times Rhysand wanted nothing more than to comb through every household, every road, every path in Prythian just to hear her laughter in the distance. Other times he wanted to rip out his mind and meticulously pick her memory out of his head, just so he could focus on something else without her smile lurking in the corner of his thoughts.

Cassian and Azriel had long accepted he was going to take a good long while to get over her. So, they resorted to simple teasings and rolling their eyes. Morrigan was less inclined to entertain his pining. Snapping at him whenever his mysterious lover came up. Becoming colder and more reserved. He didn't know whys he was so affected by her. Why she hated the idea of this woman just for wearing white.

He supposed it should've been considered an insult for her to wear such as color when she had nowhere near the authority. But Rhysand couldn't bring himself to care.

He wouldn't see her again, that he was starting to convince himself of. Finally, on solstice when he went the whole day without thinking about her, Rhysand thought he was ridding himself of her.

Then he was invited to a solstice celebration, hosted by Helion.

They all went. Everyone did. Even the other High lords. The Day Court palace had been transformed into a party, decorated with gold and lights that swirled in his vision. The drone of voices filled the air. The smells of good food and wine enticed Rhysand to fall away from his entourage not long after they arrived. Blending into the crowd. Rhysand found a male offering drinks to all, he took a glass and sipped on the delectable liquid whilst observing the party from the outskirts.

People danced, spinning around, twirling, pushing and pulling. Music was in the air, blending into the mix of laughter and chatter.

"Don't have a throne to sit your ass on," Every part of Rhysand's body was set on fire as he heard the voice that haunted his dreams whispering in his ear. He couldn't even turn as a too familiar hand slid down his chest, "So you're standing out here, avoiding everyone."

Rhysand finally forced his eyes to turn, and there she stood. His memory did her no justice, for she glowed with an alluring nature that his mind could not capture. Those golden curls were decorated with the same flowers and golden rings as before, except tonight a pair of striking antlers stood out like a crown.

Instead of that heart-stopping white dress, she wore something very different but equally as royal, equally made Rhysand wished to tear it away. A suit of dark emerald, green, a pressed white shirt underneath a waistcoat decorated with striking golden embroidery that swirled in the shape of flowers. A long jacket made with the same material as the waistcoat covered her arms and slid around her waist. Rhysand wanted to rip it away and place his hands on her waist once more.

"It's you." He breathed, unable to say anything more.

"Miss me, High lord?" She murmured, voice falling into that seductive low tone. Rhysand went weak, becoming nothing but putty for her hands.

Near shaking, Rhysand took both her hands in his. Gently pressing a kiss to each finger, he whispered against her skin, "Dearly."

She took in a breath, when he looked up, he saw her green eyes were soft. Her face ethereal, warm in the light, divine like a Goddess.

"I missed you too." She admitted.

"My darling-" He started, then she pressed a finger to his lips.

"Come with me somewhere... private." She said, looking out at the sea of people.

His blood started racing. Heat warmed his cheeks. As much as Rhysand wanted to take her against the floor where they stood, he found a different desire was battling his sexual ones. The urge to pull her close, breathe in her scent and forget the rest of the world existed was getting stronger by the minute.

She held onto his hands tightly. Then she moved, dragging him along behind him like she did when she took him off the throne. Rhysand went more than willingly. She kept them in the shadows of the party. Not a soul paid them any attention.

They found an empty balcony. She all but shoved him out then closed the curtains and the glass door.

Finally, she tuned back to him. Oh gods, if she looked beautiful in the warm chandelier light, she looked bewitching in the silver of the moon. Rhysand nearly dropped to his knees. In that moment, if the female before him told him to martyr himself in her name, he would've and he would've done it smiling.

How did one person he met a year ago have such a hold over him?

"Darling." He meant to purr the word, but it came out broken, desperate, near begging. He planted his hand on her hips and pulled her close. Pressing his nose into crook of her neck like he had in his dreams an unaccountable number of times, "My darling."

She slid her hands up his chest and Rhysand felt higher than the moon itself. Felt like he was amongst the stars themselves.

Then she pushed him away. Rhysand panicked for a moment. Fear took hold of him, strangling him till he couldn't breathe. Fear she would run away. Fear he would never see her again.

"Wait-" he started. Then she grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, keeping him at an arm's length but not letting go. It eased only a sliver of his worry.

"Rhysand," She murmured. Oh, gods his name on her tongue was like being handed a slice of heaven itself.

"Yes, my darling."

"I... you have to forget me." She told him.

Everything spinning his world came to a crashing halt, "My... my lady, I-"

"Forget me, forget everything about me. This cannot be." She told him, beginning to let go of his collar. Beginning to let go of him.

He was quicker than her this time. This time he didn't let her leave him. He took hold of her waist and pulled her back to him.

"What do you mean it cannot be?"

"I cannot be with you, you not with me. It would never work. It... we can't."

"We can." Perhaps she was already engaged? A forced marriage maybe? Or was she worried about someone low-ranking being with a High lord.

"Rhysand-"

"It will work, I will make it work. I will kill any that need to be killed. I will fix anything that needs to be fixed. I will get on my knees for you if that's what you want, please just... don't leave me again."

Tears pooled in her eyes; Rhysand desperately wanted to get rid of them.

"There is something about me you must know Rhysand." She said.

"Tell me, whatever it is, I can handle it." He insisted.

She huffed a laugh and lightly shook her head, "You will hate me once you know it. You will hate me and you will make my life hell for it. I would rather you just forget me."

"No. Never." He nearly shuddered, what could she know that would possible invoke his wrath?

"You are going to hate me." She told him, not a question, a factual statement.

"Tell me anyway." He said.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Stepping away from him she forced him to let go. He felt the need to reach out, but held himself back.

Then in the blink of an eye, she changed. Her suit changed as well to fit the new body it held. Her torso became longer. Her shoulders filled out the shirt more. In a second she was taller, almost exactly his height. Her jaw become more carved, slightly broader. But her eyes, hair and skin stayed the same.

Rhysand felt his mouth fall open as a ringing in his ear drowned out the background noise of the party.

Tamlin pointedly did not look at him. He looked out over the view of the Day Court. Rhysand's eyes could only look him up and down.

"I'm sorry Rhys." Tamlin murmured. His voice deepened, but still rich like the sweetest of honey, "I'm sorry."

How...

"I wanted to escape for one night. I went to the Hewn City, it was the only place completely and utterly removed from Prythian. I saw you and I... it pissed me off how high and mighty you looked. I didn't know how far it would go."

How did...

"I had to go back at midnight, lest Lucien and Andras send out a search party looking for me. But I... I couldn't stop... thinking about you." He whispered the last three words like they were cursed.

How did Rhysand never know?

Everything about Tamlin had remained Tamlin in his female form, except having a more feminine look and high-pitched voice. His personality remained precisely the same. The same sarcastic, dare-devil attitude. The same cocky, self-assured air about him. The same cheeky smart cunningness.

"I'm sorry for leading you on, but I-"

Rhysand laughed; he couldn't stop it. It burst from his throat like a tidal wave. He nearly doubled over. Tears springing from his eyes.

Tamlin's face turned from shock to indignation and finally mild amusement. He crossed his arms and waited for Rhysand to collect himself.

"You done, yet?" Tamlin drawled. Rhysand forced himself to take in a deep breath, controlling himself.

"Yes." Rhysand said.

They both looked at each other. This was the first real one-on-one interaction with each other since... since that night all those years ago.

"Do you hate me?" Tamlin whispered, "Not just for before but... for this?"

Rhysand barely heard the question, too busy watching the way a hair fell from its place to frame Tamlin's face.

"I..."

Did he?

He should. He had to. He had to feel angry for this. For being led on like this.

But he couldn't. The fire he had felt when Tamlin appeared in female form just minutes prior still burned, in fact... it was getting hotter.

"I don't know." Rhysand said.

Tamlin gritted his teeth, not liking that answer. He turned on his heel, striding away from Rhysand. He opened the glass door and called over his shoulder, "Well when you figure it out,"

Tamlin turned just enough to look Rhysand in the eyes, "You know where to find me."

Tamlin tossed the curtains open and they were faced with the Inner Circle staring at them with wide eyes and open mouths.

Tamlin just gave them a cocky grin and a wave before he strolled away. Heading for Lucien and Andras who called him over, oblivious to what had just occurred.

***

No one had spoken to him. And Rhysand didn't speak to them. Once they got home, he beeline for his office, shut and locked the door. They all assumed he was humiliated. Embarrassed at having been obsessed with the male he claimed to loathe.

Rhysand sat in his office for days. The shadow twins brought him meals. Neither speaking, just walking through the walls to hand him whatever they had prepared, then they left.

They all assumed he was thinking of ways to murder the male that had made him insane for a year.

They were all so far from the truth.

Rhysand sat in his chair, staring out at his city, wondering how Tamlin was still stuck in his mind.

He half-expected to at least be only thinking of Tamlin's female form. Still obsessed with how she looked.

But no, his mind wouldn't let him think of her, he could only think of him. Could only think of Tamlin's laughter, Tamlin's smile, Tamlin's face. Tamlin dancing with him. Tamlin touching him. Tamlin beneath him-

Rhysand scrubbed his face with dry hands. Trying to rid his mind of those thoughts.

He shouldn't think like that. He was a High lord for the God's sake. It was his Cauldron-given duty to marry a female. Fuck a female. Put an heir in a female. And give the Court their next High lord. All with a female.

What kind of reasoning was that? He shouldn't be thinking like this because it wasn't him. He didn't... males simply didn't think like that. It was... it wasn't.

What was he trying to convince himself of? Didn't he preach about Velaris being a safe haven for all that wanted to do as they wished with their bodies, give their love to whomever?

Everyone else could do what they wanted. But he couldn't. He wasn't like that. He just wasn't.

Right?

Right.

Tamlin's eyes appeared in his mind's vision and Rhysand nearly flipped his desk.

Slamming his head back against his chair, Rhysand groaned loudly.

He stared up at the ceiling, thinking the untouched white would distract him. It only served to make his mind wonder back into dangerous territory. Tamlin with his hand on Rhysand's shoulder. Tamlin nipping his neck with his sharp teeth. Tamlin grinning as Rhysand went down on his knees-

"God's above." Rhysand whispered.

'The Gods aren't down here, High lord. No one but the devil is watching our sins.'

Instead of a female's voice murmuring, it was Tamlin's. Rhysand lost his own breath for a moment, eyes shuddering closed.

Rhysand forced his eyes open. He forced himself to stand up, roughing brushing himself off. He looked out at the view of Velaris.

Hands trembling. He roughly threw open the window. Wings appearing on his back as his wards dropped. He fell into the wind and shadows of Night.

'Do you hate me?' That torturous voice whispered in the cavern of his memory.

"No." Rhysand spoke into the night as his wings snapped out and he shot up into the clouds.

"How could I ever hate the best thing that ever happened to me?"

The twins would go into his office the next morning with breakfast, and they would find an empty room. Mor would be frantic, and Cass and Az would search Velaris from top to bottom.

But they wouldn't find him, because Rhysand was going to the place his mind and heart had been stolen too.

Rhysand was going to Spring.

Rhysand was going to Tamlin.

Thank you so much for this prompt! It was very fun to write!

By the way this is what I imagine Tamlin's dress in the Hewn City to look like. Found this image on my Pinterest feed.