𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖 (ACOTAR FANFIC)

Sixty-Six

I had thought I'd known true torment. True grief and pain.

Out of the things that had happened in my life you'd think that it would get easier, and yet every single time it felt like a spear to my heart.

My family was my life. I had protected them from everything for as long as I could remember—even if they needed to be protected from me. They were all I had, the only thing in the world that didn't make me want to rip my heart out.

They were my tether to humanity.

I sat broken on the floor of the throne room, the cold chains a dead weight on my wrists. My eyes were locked on my sisters, unable to look away. Blood dripped from her mouth and her eyes no longer held life. They were vacant and I thought the sight may very well have been the worst thing I'd ever witnessed in my life.

Amarantha was dead. There had been an explosion and golden light had invaded the room. Tamlin had killed her the second his magic had been freed. I heard the sweet, sweet sound of her scream filter through the air. No one had cheered. No one had celebrated. And I thought it may have been a small mercy. I didn't think I could bear people cheering for my sister's demise.

I hadn't seen Amarantha's death. I couldn't look away from Feyre.

I was a ghost. Stuck in my body like a lost soul. My body was numb and I wished my mind were the same.

Tamlin ran to my sister as he shifted back into his High Fae form, scooping her limp body up and cradling her to his chest. I wanted to scream at him. Tell him to let her go. That this was his fault—his fault because he sat there and did nothing to protect her.

But I was still frozen.

"No," Someone breathed in the crowd. Lucien. He approached Feyre and Tamlin at the same time I felt a presence beside me. I still stared. I didn't care who it was.

I didn't care about anything.

Someone grabbed my arms and I think they said something before they pulled me off the ground. I went limp. I was tired. So, so tired. In my mind. In my body. I just wanted to sleep. I was in pain.

I wanted it over.

The person caught me as my legs gave out from under me. Their warmth was familiar and I went limp in their arms. Exhaustion is taking over.

And yet even as my eyes began to droop closed I held them open as movement caught my eye. I watched as a man with brown hair approached my sister, holding a hand to his chest, a bead of light formed. It looked like liquid fire, a brassy orange color. He tipped his hand and I watched as the light fell into my sister's chest.

Two more figures approached one with striking white hair like my own paired with dark skin. He did the same movement with his chest and a drop of blue formed before he spilled it into Feyre's chest. The other had white hair like my own and pale skin. But his features were more refined than my own and aside from the hair and skin we looked nothing alike.

These were the High Lords, I realized tiredly as my eyes drooped a little lower.

Two more came, they approached and the kernels they held were the brightest of all. Like drops of pure sunlight. They too dropped it into my sister's chest and backed away. Day and Dawn.

The anchor holding me, pushed me forward, gently helping me stand on my own. I stumbled before I found my footing. Dark hair came into my view as the person who was holding me stepped forward. Rhysand. He had been the one holding me up. I should have been mad. Should have been disgusted at his tiny moment of kindness.

And yet I just felt...tired. My body began to ache as my heart felt fainter in my own chest. But still, I kept my eyes open. Kept myself standing up straight out of sheer will.

Rhysand approached his hand on his chest like the others. The light he held was like a drop of starlight, wreathed in night. "For what she gave," he spoke as he extended his hand, "we'll bestow what our predecessors have granted to few before." he paused, "This makes us even." he opened his hand, letting the seed fall.

Tamlin brushed aside Feyre's matted hair. His hand glowed brightly on his chest and the small light formed in his hand. "I love you," he whispered before he dropped it into her chest.

There was silence. And I watched as my sister began to morph. As she began to change. He previously curved ears growing a point. As her skin grew a glow to it. And her chest began to rise and fall in even beats. My cheeks became salty with tears of joy.

I smiled in triumph as Feyre gasped for breath, forged anew as High Fae. I didn't care if she was a faerie now, she was alive and that was what mattered.

But my smile quickly faded from my features as my adrenaline wore off fully and the last wound Amarantha had thought to deal me finally swept me away in the sweet release of oblivion.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: I apologize.

jkjk.