Divided (Throne of Glass and A Court of Thorns and Roses Crossover)

Chapter 16

Six lithe beings stood together in the House of Wind, watching the sun rise in the distance. Twinkling stars, Feyre's old companions, began to disappear in the early morning sky. Cassian and Azriel were covered head to toe in weapons, their siphons gleaming in the last remaining shards of moonlight.

"Be careful, you two. I don't want to have to come save your lives again," Feyre said to the two immortal warriors standing before her; they only grinned, first at her and then each other. Morrigan gave them both a hug in turn, and Rhysand gripped both of their arms in farewell. 

Only Amren stayed away, sipping a wine glass halfway filled with blood. The war had not made her more agreeable. If anything, she had grown quieter and more withdrawn. 

"Won't you come and hug your heroic warriors goodbye, Amren?" Cassian called. Her only response was a curl of her lip and a wave of her hand. 

"We'll miss you too, Amren," Cassian laughed. "Are you ready, Az?" The other Ilyrian nodded, and Feyre grabbed his hand. Rhysand put his hand on Cassian's arm as well, and within seconds, the four of them were in the Spring Court, Feyre and Rhys being the only two with the strength to winnow so far. 

Being back in the Spring Court brought back unpleasant memories for Feyre. Passing out after being locked in the large manor house had not been the highlight of her life.

Lucien was waiting for them on the edge of the estate, his red hair glinting in the growing sunlight. He smiled politely at the group of them and bid them forward onto the estate and into the house to wait for Tamlin. 

He descended the stairs and looked anywhere but at Feyre. He nodded curtly at the High Lord of Night and his warrior brothers. 

"Thank you for meeting here. It will be faster into Hybern through my lands," Tamlin said. Feyre didn't miss the emphasis on how he said my. The silence between the two parties was overwhelming. 

It was Azriel who spoke first, "It is our pleasure. Cassian and I are eager to explore what remains of the island. Thank you for accompanying us." Tamlin nodded, and the awkward silence settled back in. Being there in the drawing room of a house that she had once loved so much made Feyre uneasy.

 A silent tug through the mating bond made her smile slightly. She looked around the large room where the sun made the dull room seem more cheery. Something above the fireplace caught her eye. The painting of the rose garden was eerily familiar, and it was a couple moments before she realized it was because she had painted it. Rage boiled through her, and she balled her hands into fists to keep it contained. 

Rhys shot her a look and said quickly, "Azriel, Cassian, thank you for going to Hybern. I look forward to hearing your reports. Tamlin, thank you for entertaining us. I think Feyre and I should be going now." 

He grabbed her arm and all but yanked her out of the house that she was contemplating destroying. Once they were outside, he winnowed them away randomly. Feyre sat hard on the ground in front of the remains of a once lovely cottage. 

"What happened, Feyre?" Rhysand asked, helping her to her feet.

"That goddamn DOG hung one of MY paintings above his fireplace," Feyre seethed. "He betrayed me multiple times and still thinks it's okay to use my stuff in his stupid house?" Feyre went on for a while like that before Rhys stopped her. 

"Stop, Feyre. I read his mind. I know why that painting is hung on his wall," Rhys said.

"Why's that?" she huffed. The two of them made their way up into the ruins of the Weaver's cottage as he spoke.

"That's the last painting you did before he sent you back to the human realm. In his mind, it's a reminder of a time when he made you happy. I think his exact 'wording' was When I was enough for her. Of course, he never would have been enough for you, but at least his intentions are genuine. And besides, you're the best painter in Prythian."

Some of her anger dissipated and she replied, "You liar. I'm not even half the painter Morley is. His paintings make me want to cry, they are so beautiful." 

The couple remained silent as they picked through the cottage. The Weaver had been an immortal hoarder, and she had stacks upon stacks of knick-knacks piled around the house. Feyre was surprised that mostly everything had remained untouched in the previous years.

"How do we even know that mirror is here?" Feyre grumbled as her hand accidentally touched a ball of hair. 

"Do you really think the Cauldron would have made you paint that in the middle of the night if it wasn't here?"

The two of them continued to poke through the stacks of mostly junk.

Rhys said, "Try reaching out with your mind for it. It must be important, perhaps it has magic of some sort." Feyre did as she was asked, but most of the little oddities had some type of magic, and they were all calling for her to pick them up.

"I can't find it, there's too much noise," she sighed. "I guess we're going to have to find it the old fashioned way."

As she said this, she tripped over a low-lying stack of books, and into a much larger stack of crystals, dolls, and to her dismay, dead birds. Rhys was there instantly, keeping her from getting seriously injured. He sat her on the floor of the cottage, and a flash of silver caught her eye. 

There, at the bottom of the fallen stack, was a silver-edged mirror just like in her paintings. Unlike in her painting, there was a jagged crack in the reflective surface. 

Hey you! This is just a little reminder that you are really appreciated and not just by me! I know that reading is super great, but don't forget to put yourself out there! Thank you so much for reading!