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sarcasmsweetie · 1 year

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After the Mountain

So, I've had this idea of what it was like immediately after Amarantha was defeated, how her victims responded in the aftermath of her defeat. I tried writing it solely from Rhys' perspective, but discovered I was awful at that. So I created Ava to help tell the story for me where I couldn't for Rhys. Most likely will be a standalone, but I am already picturing a Part 2 where Feyre comes for Velaris and is finding it difficult to come to terms with her new life. We shall see. No romantic entanglements in this one, but my love for our Shadow Boy is LOUD.

Word count: 4.4k

Taglist: No taglist while shadow ban is still in place.

I watched with tears in my eyes as all of the High Lords banded together to bring Feyre back to life. Drops of light landed on her chest, and she soon woke with a gasp. Almost as if he were waiting for confirmation the revival is sticking, my dear friend moved back to my side, linking his arm with mine.

Nothing will be the same, he whispered in my mind. I leaned my head on his shoulder, tears silently falling down my face.

No. But like everything else the world has thrown at us, we’ll navigate this together. I looked up at him, his violet gaze meeting mine. With our family. Tears gathered in the corners of his own eyes as if just realizing now we’re truly free. 50 years of pain and suffering, trapped under the thumb of one of the cruelest creatures either of us have encountered in our long lives, suddenly over in a snap.

We stood in silence for a moment, both watching over the countless souls crying in relief of their newfound freedom. Some winnowed out the moment Amarantha perished, whereas others are finally taking a moment to mourn loved ones who were lost in this wretched place, having been too terrified to let their masks slip in the moment that someone passed.

I watched a few of the angrier ones lash out against any remaining guards or steadfast followers of Amarantha, no one taking steps to stopping them. A few more ran out of the hall, either in search of an exit as they are unable to winnow, or possibly to the dungeons to release whoever may be locked up down there. It was certainly chaotic, but Rhys and I just watched from the sidelines.

I got the sense that Rhys was waiting for something, and as badly as I wanted to leave this place, I trusted him to know that this was important enough to delay our departure. While we were close prior to Amarantha destroying everything, our time trapped under here caused our friendship to grow deeper, stronger. I suppose that’s one saving grace to this entire endeavor - I finally understand my High Lord. Being best friends with Mor, we certainly spent a lot of time together over the centuries, but never did I feel like I had an understanding of what was going on in his head until neither of us had a choice but to rely on one another to survive.

Over time, my room eventually became our room. There has never been a romantic component to our relationship (Mor would beat both of us if it ever came to that), but the comfort of not spending nights alone was what drew us closer. A shoulder to cry on, a safe space to rage and confide, a comfortable place to sleep knowing someone you care for is there to protect you. I’ve always been an outcast in the belief that you could have multiple soulmates, that their sole purpose isn’t to be your perfect romantic partner. But rather people who challenge you to be better, who help strip away layers of yourself in order to truly discover your deepest potential. Most importantly, they are people who stay, accepting and loving this evolved you. I realized Mor was one of my soulmates when we were young and she helped me escape the Hewn City, and I can now confidently say that Rhys is another who fits into the puzzle that is my soul.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when Rhys shifted, posture straightening ever so slightly. Without needing to follow his gaze, I watched as Feyre broke away from the crowd. “Will you be okay here for a moment, little nightingale?” My heart tightened at the nickname and he squeezed my arm, almost as if in apology.

Of course. I’ll be here when you’re ready to go home. His hand slid down my arm to my hand, offering another squeeze before turning towards where Feyre disappeared to.

I remained where he left me, not wanting to move too far away so as not to delay our departure when he comes back. I continued to look over the room, noticing significantly fewer figures as the majority left to go home themselves. A few walked past me, offering brief farewells and sad smiles, but one eye I did catch was that of the new High Lord of Summer. He said something to those around him, before he made his way towards me with his entourage a few steps behind, seemingly terrified to leave their new High Lord on his own even though the biggest threat has already been neutralized. Certainly can never be too careful these days. Can’t be too trusting of anyone, especially those who have worn masks for half of a century in order to survive. No way to tell what anyone’s true nature is unless you knew them prior to the Mountain.

“I do hope you won’t be staying here much longer. We are soon to be leaving now that all that remains of our court are accounted for.” I smiled softly at Tarquin and those behind him, recognizing the flashes of grief in their eyes as they thought of those they’ve lost. I nodded, trying to swallow before opening my mouth.

“Soon.” I whispered, more of an exhale of breath than anything that resembled a voice. Tarquin’s gaze dropped briefly to my neck before meeting my eyes once more.

“Take care of yourself, Ava. Hopefully, if we meet again, it will be under much better circumstances.” I offered him and his court a deep bow, silently wishing they all take care of themselves as well. As I straightened, I watched as they turned towards one another and began winnowing out. Tarquin’s gaze caught my own before he left, and I waved goodbye as he vanished from sight.

I dropped my arm to my side on a sigh, glancing around the room a final time. I tried to avoid looking, but with the crowd so significantly thinned out, I couldn’t help but look at the stage I was forced to perform on every night for 50 years. I moved my hand to my throat, tracing the jagged scars as I remembered every horrid moment I spent down here. Screams echoed in my mind, both of strangers and my own. The cool metal slicing across my neck time and time again if I was deemed to be “pitchy,” a blade striking down over Jasker’s wrists, severing his talented guitar-strumming hands from his arms. I felt my heart begin to race as each new memory passed along my vision, breath picking up as I began to enter a panic attack - a feeling I am unfortunately all too familiar with.

Before I could fall any further, Rhysand stood in front of me looking frantic. He placed his hands gently on my cheeks, making me meet his gaze. It’s time to go. We need to go. I nodded, feeling myself calm down slightly but only due to the rising panic I was sensing growing in him. I grabbed for his hands, holding tightly as he winnowed us from our personal hell.

We stumbled into the foyer of the townhome, seemingly gasping for breath as we both teetered on the edges of our own panic attacks. Rhys was muttering under his breath, but I couldn’t hear him due to the blood pounding heavily in my ears. He still looked frantic, eyes wide but glazed over as he tugged at his hair. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flurry of red and gold run into the room, but her gasp cut through the noise in my head as I met her brown eyes. She brought her hand to her mouth as tears fell freely down her cheeks as she looked between both of us. I longed to run to her, but I could finally make out what Rhys was muttering over and over again: She’s my mate.

I moved to him, placing a hand on his cheek, while my other grabbed one of his and held it against my chest. Directing his gaze to mine, I took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and slowly released. I repeated the action while staring into his terrified eyes, praying it wouldn’t take too long for him to become grounded. After a few more breathing repetitions, he grasped the hand I held to his cheek and held on tight as he then followed my lead, taking deep breaths in before releasing. I watched as his eyes began to gain focus again, but continued to breath with him, doing my best to keep my mind as empty as possible in case anything I think pushes him over the edge again. A few minutes passed and I knew he was back with me as his eyes watered while he leaned forward to rest his forehead against my own. I closed my eyes, feeling the tears starting to build yet again, but began to project my thoughts to him.

We’re free. We’re safe. We’ll figure it out. One day at a time. We’ll get through this.

I felt him nod, so I opened my eyes to see him with a small smile. Seeing as he was centered again, I remembered where we were. I pulled back and turned to where I saw Mor only to find two Illyrians flanking her. All three were crying, though that didn’t stop Mor from throwing herself at me as Cassian and Azriel enveloped Rhys into a long overdue hug.

Mor and I sank to the ground as we cried, clutching onto each other tightly. I was vaguely aware that I hadn’t bathed in some time, but clearly that didn’t matter (or I didn’t smell as bad as I assumed I did). She pulled back far too soon, hands brushing up my arms and over my shoulders before hesitating at my neck. Her hands hovered while she looked over what was a new scar to her. Ever so gently, she traced from one exterior jugular vein to the other - essentially ear to ear across my neck. The scar was thickest, and therefore cut the deepest, over my vocal cords.

“What did she do to you?” she whispered, and I smiled sadly. I watched as the tears started anew at my nonverbal response. I noticed movement behind her as the three males moved to us, and I nodded my head towards her cousin. They need their own reunion as much as we needed ours. She helped me stand before pulling Rhys into a tight hug.

Cassian’s smile was bright as he moved to me and I watched the exact moment he clocked the scar on my neck, but that didn’t stop him from pulling me into one of the most bone-crushing yet comforting hugs I’ve encountered in a long time. I tried to hold onto him just as tightly, but knew my strength was nothing compared to his. “I’ve missed you so much, nightingale. We’re never letting either of you out of our sights ever again. I swear it.” I pulled back slightly so I could reach up and wipe away some of the tears on his cheeks. His is a face that is meant to be smiling and tears have no place there.

A small shadow mimicked my actions, and I turned to Azriel with a smile. Normally uncertain as to what the stoic male is thinking, I pushed all thoughts aside as I moved from Cassian to Azriel, embracing him as tightly as I did Cass. Without hesitation, his arms moved around me and held on tight. Almost as tight as Cassian’s embrace, causing my smile to widen. Cass had come up behind us at some point and began stroking my hair, still wanting to maintain some sort of contact to prove to himself this wasn’t another dream.

As I pulled back from Azriel, Rhysand cleared his throat. “You have no idea what it means to us to be back home.” He glanced at me. “Especially what it means to us to be back to healers.” The look I gave him clearly conveyed anything I could possibly think, but the three others looked back and forth between us.

We know exactly what she’s going to say, Rhysand.

“Actually, we don’t know exactly what she’s going to say. Which is precisely why we need you to see Madja as soon as possible.”

There’s nothing to be done about the scar, and my voice is gone, Rhys. It’s been getting worse over the last 15 years, and there’s nothing left.

“For all we know, you just need some rest, Ava. It could come back.” My eyes began to water as I finally began to accept what I’ve been putting off for so long.

Even if it comes back, I don’t want it anymore. She destroyed it in every way possible.

“Aves, don’t say that.” Rhys looked heartbroken, but Cassian cleared his throat.

“As much as I love one-sided conversations, can we be clued in? Little nightingale, why aren’t you speaking up?” He was looking at me like he knew the answer already, but didn’t want to hear it. I reached for his hand, holding tightly as I shook my head.

“Her voice is currently gone, courtesy of Amarantha. I believe she just needs some rest, some time to let it come back on its own after half a century of being overused.” I stood there for a moment, waiting for him to continue. When it was clear he wasn’t going to share my perspective, I blew up, pulling my hand from Cassian’s grasp in order to point my finger at him in anger.

“When you are acting as my voice, you do not get to decide what is or isn’t said on my behalf.”

My mouth was moving, but no sound came out. I felt as if I was screaming at the top of my lungs, and I noticed that Mor started crying again and Az’s jaw clenched tightly. I felt Cassian shift closer to me but stopped just before making contact. I suppose it’s one thing to be told someone’s voice is gone, almost as if they’re ill and they’re just a bit raspy, but another thing to witness firsthand that it is destroyed.

“You have no right to censor me like that, Rhysand.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry Ava. It is a horrid disservice to you to cut out your thoughts and opinions like that because I don’t like what they could mean.” Mor growled under her breath, and Rhys glanced at her. “My apologies to all of you. As Ava just pointed out, I have to be her voice for her right now, so it’s not fair of me to not give the whole story.” Cassian placed what was supposed to be a comforting hand on my shoulder, but a sense of vulnerability hit me so suddenly that I stepped away, crossing my arms over my chest.

“We’re going to have to figure out a way to communicate with you, Aves. Rhys isn’t always going to be around to play interpreter.” I nodded, but unfortunately looked to Rhys to speak for me again.

“We actually talked about that a while ago, what she would do if we got out. I know there are books for signing in the library, and a few of the priestesses would be able to work with her as well. For now, I suppose you’ll just be carrying around a notebook if I’m not with you to translate.”

“The priestesses would be able to work with all of us. Not just Ava.” Everyone turned to look at Az. “You learning to sign would be pointless if we don’t learn as well.” Mor nodded along.

“Az is right - completely pointless for you to learn a new method of communicating with us and we still don’t understand what you’re saying. I’m in!”

Cassian draped an arm around my shoulders, nodding with a smile. “We just got you back. No way are we losing you because of something that we can overcome.”

“And I bet this will wind up all being for nothing as I am certain Madja will confirm what I’ve known all along in that your voice will be back before we know it.”

Before Az stepped away to collect Madja, he gently reached for my hand. “We’re together now. No matter what happens, we face it as a unit.” I smiled at how similar this was to what I said to Rhys earlier today. Squeezing his hand didn’t feel like enough, so I pulled him into another hug. I couldn’t blame myself – he’s usually pretty selective when it comes to showing affection and I’m going to take every advantage as possible to have the soft spymaster in our presence before he goes back into hiding behind his shadows.

He chuckled as if he knew exactly what game I was playing but didn’t put up a fight. Before he pulled away, he whispered softly in my ear, “I’ve missed you terribly, sweetheart.” His mask was back in place as he moved into the shadows to find the healer.

Either I did a great job at hiding a blush, or Cassian decided to humor me in pretending it didn’t exist when he directed Rhys and I into the living room. “Is there anything I can get you before they get back?”

I doubt we have time for a bath that would let me scrub myself raw, so I’ll settle for some tea. Rhys smirked, and shared we would both appreciate tea, if it wasn’t too much trouble. Mor scoffed and ran off to the kitchen to brew something for all of us. Cassian continued to look us over as we sat, probably looking to see if there were any other injuries he missed before. I held my hand back out to him, admittedly feeling a little bad for shying away from his affection in the foyer. He quickly took hold, grip tight as he smiled at me. We remained silent, content to just be in this moment while we waited for Mor and Az to come back. Luckily, the wait wasn’t long.

Mor walked in with a tray at the same time shadows appeared and both Az and Madja walked out. Madja ran to Rhys with a cry, pulling him into a motherly embrace. I turned away to hide my tears, busying myself with adding honey to the cup Mor passed to me. “Thank the Mother you’re back. Sit down, let me take a look at you.”

Rhys started to object, but I cut him off. You first, High Lord. Your health and safety, whether you like it or not, is far more important than mine. He gave me a hard look. For me. Please? With a sigh, he sat back down in the chair as Madja looked between the two of us. If it weren’t for her years of healing, I’m sure she would have gaped at my neck. Instead, she looked between us again, weighing who she should look over first. I pointed to him, settling into Cassian’s side as I sipped my tea. Clearly showing I had no intention of going anywhere any time soon and can wait my turn.

“I can assure you, Madja, that I am physically uninjured. Deprived of the sun, absolutely. But I imagine this will be very quick for you.” She narrowed her eyes, and I smirked at the I-will-be-the-judge-of-that attitude that Rhys is rarely on the receiving end of.

Madja’s hands began to glow slightly as her healing magic flowed through her, and she hovered them over various parts of Rhys, sensing what may or may not be healthy. I always marveled at the magic of healers, wishing I had a gift similar to theirs.

Mor sat on the arm of the couch beside Rhys while Az sat on the other arm. As I was still leaning against Cassian, the position made it easy for Az to reach behind Cassian and play with strands of my hair. I sighed into my tea, finally feeling safe in the arms of my family. Cassian glanced at me briefly when I sighed, but I smiled up at him and Azriel. They both smiled back, and I leaned deeper into Cassian and Azriel’s touch.

Looking back over at Rhys, I watched as Madja was wrapping up her exam, noting exactly what Rhys said: nothing was physically wrong. She turned to me, and I pointed to my neck as a sign that this is the only area that’s physically harmed. Rhys quietly interpreted that, in case it wasn’t clear.

“If it’s all the same, I’d still like to look over the rest of you to be safe.” I nodded, and Cassian grabbed my teacup and set it on the table for me while I sat up. I felt a trail of warmth where her hands moved across my legs, torso, and arms. She bypassed my neck for a moment to look over my head for any fractures before settling into the biggest issue. “May I ask what happened here?”

I glanced at Rhys, and he took in a deep breath. “I can start with what I’ve seen, and you can stop me to fill in any gaps as I go?” I nodded. The warmth of Madja’s hands grew while she examined my neck, as if her healing was digging deeper for answers.

“To start at the beginning, we all know that Ava was invited to perform at the gala Amarantha was hosting, which we all now know was a trap. Amarantha apparently went to a few of Ava’s performances over the years, enraptured with her voice.

Once the trap was set, she demanded Ava sing every night we were under the Mountain. Amarantha tried to make every night seem like a party in the early days. A bit deranged at times, but a party nonetheless. At first, the amount of time Ava performed on stage was manageable, nothing different from what she would do when she was touring Prythian. The first marker for us that things were taking a darker turn for the worse is when Amarantha would force Ava to be on stage all night, singing nonstop.”

Not just me, but the other performers as well. Her attention to them became all-consuming.

“Yes, you’re right. There were other musicians that would accompany Ava, and Amarantha turned her wrath to them before she turned to Ava, almost as if she didn’t want to hurt her at first. She would break the bones in the hands of the percussionist over and over until her could no longer hold drum sticks. She would slice off the fingers, then hands, of any guitarist who was on stage. Finally, she would take a blade and slice across Ava’s throat. She’d allow a healer on the stage to do the bare minimum to get them ‘back at it as the party isn’t done yet.’” He trailed off, and I think we were both seeing the same images of mutilated musicians and blood pooling on the floor of the stage after an Amarantha Tantrum. “There was never a way to tell what would set her off. Reasons she clung to would be those such as not wanting to hear that particular song, or Ava was ‘pitchy’ or a musician played the wrong chord. Sometimes weeks would go by, and she wouldn’t lash out. Sometimes, I would watch her slit Ava’s throat upwards of 5 times a performance.”

Wild how a singer doesn’t sound great when she’s actively bleeding on stage…

“It was about 15 years ago that Ava stopped speaking completely in an attempt to save what little voice she had left for the stage. We had seen Amarantha kill the percussionist and numerous guitarists over the years when she grew bored of them, tired of ‘correcting’ their performance.” Rhys looked over to me and grabbed my hand. “Ava and I did everything we could to keep her from that fate.”

As Rhys shared this, Madja had been looking me over as thoroughly as she could. She sat back with a sigh, and I knew what was coming. Rhys’ grasp on my hand tightened, as Cassian grabbed my other hand. Mor followed Azriel’s lead in leaning over to grab hold of a shoulder while we waited for Madja’s verdict.

“I could tell you that you need months of rest and tea blends to aid in the soothing recovery of getting your voice back.” She met my gaze, and I resigned myself to what she wasn’t saying. “But I’m not in the business of false promises. Maybe one day, a whisper can come back to you. From what I am seeing, though, I am so sorry to say that there is nothing I can do for your condition.” Her fingers trailed a bit over the scar. “I may be able to soften the scarring a bit, but I will leave that up to you.”

I shook my head. I’ve lived with it for so long, there’s no need to try and do anything here.

Rhys cleared his throat. “She says she’s lived with it for so long already, there’s no need.” Madja nodded in understanding.

“I’m more than happy to check in with you as time goes on to see if there’s any changes. You know where to find me.” I released my grasp on Cassian’s to grab hers in thanks. Azriel stood to escort Madja back to her home, but everyone remained quiet in the living room.

We expected this, Rhysand.

“Expecting didn’t mean accepting, nightingale. But for now, let’s just take the time we were given and enjoy being safe, being home.”

“I will cheers to that, brother.” Cassian moved to the liquor cabinet and Mor helped pass along the glasses to us. Once the last glass was handed off, Azriel emerged from his shadows. He looked around with a slightly raised brow, curious as to how we went from somewhat sad news to a somber, but still celebratory drink.

I moved to hand Azriel his glass, and his shadows swirled around our hands at the exchange. I smiled to him, then at everyone else, and he seemed to figure out the reason for the drink.

The other moved to us and we stood in a tight circle as we raised our glasses. “To coming home.”

#bri writes #acotar #acotar fanfic #under the mountain #acotar x reader #acotar x oc

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