Previously, on keeping up with the Bat Boys

"Are you and Isabella mates?"

Motherfucker

His eyes are pleading and Azriel feels panic begin to cloud his mind. "Because I want you to be happy too and if-"

Azriel winnows away.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*

Rhysand

It was a peaceful evening for once. He guessed that's why one of the silent alarm spells was triggered in the hewn city. Feyre had been spending the morning reading while he went through reports, the pair of them both content to sit in silence during their rare calm days.

He won't try and lie, it had been... tough, readjusting to life in Velaris. Rhys knew it was naive to hope that everything would just magically go back to the way it was but still, he had held hope that it wouldn't be this... uncomfortable.

Amren had said barely two words to him, clearly bitter and betrayed at his disappearing act. The powerful female hadn't appreciated being confined to a small city while he suffered in their stead. Rhys was grateful of course, she had held his family together when they were breaking. But part of him had wished she would offer him even a glimpse of a kind look, anything to make him believe that what he did, what Amarantah did to him, was worth it.

Not that the other's hadn't expressed their gratitude and rage as well. Mor had spent the first three days clinging to his side, sobbing her eyes out as the pair remained in a state of shock. His cousin was necessary to Rhys' ability to keep function, to keep ruling. Morrigan had made a point of ignoring what had happened. It was only ever brought up in the shadows of the night in hushed tones and silent tears. She kept things light, trying to bring back the old days.

In some ways it was easier to pretend that he was fine with her. But it was mostly exhausting.

Cassian and Azriel had been the most... angry. They spent the first three days walking around on eggshells as Rhys tried to remember what his own power felt like, what his skin felt like in the night court air. The fourth they went training and no one commented when Rhys had collapsed after barely an hour. So they had settled for words and tears and battle strategy games.

Azriel had understood him best at the beginning. The desperate need to have nothing and no one touching his skin. The need to hide from their stares and the light. Cassian had hated it. He could see that all his brother wanted was to wrap him in a hug and keep him safe and sound. He refrained from doing so of course but Cassian is a tactile person, his love language screams physical touch.

He had once thought Feyre to be his saviour. To be the shining star and- and he finds it somewhat shameful to admit - a reward. Obviously he hadn;t thought she was put on this world solely for him, that she was there to protect him and keep him happy. No, he had just... seen a kindred soul and hoped they could be friends. It was never about love, or sex or romance.

Feyre was his chance at having another soul sibling, one who would understand him. One who had kept him safe and he could protect in return. He wanted to pay her back for all that she had done. Part of him knew it was guilt, that he was trying to make up for all the sins he had committed under the Dark Queen's rule.

Today was a good day at least. He had managed to bare the feeling of his suit against his skin at least so he counted that as a win. Cassian was off flirting with Isabella again.

He was happy for them, truly, but it didn't help his trauma and grief when Rhys could see his friends physically moving on with their lives while he was frozen in place. Even Azriel had come to life with the introduction of the Archeron sisters.

For a time Rhys had worried the two brothers would clash. That they would be torn apart by jealousy and regret. He had been wrong to doubt them. Azriel was far too gracious and kind to ever judge Cassian for his happiness no matter how much sorrow it brings him to see. Cassian of course was a 'more the merrier' type and has no doubt had more than a helping hand in orchestrating Azriel's visit to Isabella in hopes that the two will become friends.

He does wonder if that will eventually backfire.

Especially since the Emissary standing in one of the Court of Nightmare's meeting rooms can attest to the consequences of a failed relationship as a member of the ruling circle. Indeed, Lucien looks weathered beyond his years since Rhys last saw him. The once light and jovial male seemed tired and withdrawn.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Rhys settled into the throne of a chair at the head of the long meeting table. Lucien had stepped closer but made no effort to sit down. He hadn't been offered a seat after all. "We weren't expecting you so far north."

"I'm here on Tamlin's behalf."

"Still panting after dear Feyre I see." Lucien nose scrunched up slightly in annoyance and Rhys could swear that he recognised the mannerism from somewhere. "Tell me, does it get tiring? Having your mate chase after another who doesn't share your bond."

"We do not know if the bond is yet to snap." Lucien states though it's clear he doesn't believe the words

Rhys snorts, "I can guarantee that Feyre is not mated to you and Tamlin."

Lucien straightens, a glimmer of concern brightening his eyes. "So the rumours are true than, you have claimed an Archeron sister as yours."

Interest choice of words, especially considering he is fishing for information. But Rhys sees no reason to lie or further taunt the male, he has no use for exhausting drama.

"No, Lucien, it is not I Feyre is mated to." his voice is placating and for a moment he worries that Lucien has taken offence to his words but-

"Please don't tell me it's one of the bats."

"Because clearly there could be no worse fate." Rhys mocks with a smirk and Lucien rolls his eyes. For a moment it's like old time, the drawn out meetings where only Lucien's fox like personality kept them all entertained. "Would be suffice to say that a... female has caught Feyre's fancy."

He takes great joy in the way little Lucien's eye widen in surprise. Even the metallic specimen whirls and clicks in surprise.

His throat bobs, "Right... that would make a lot of sense."

Rhys huffs out an amused laugh, rising to his feet and making a beeline for the decanter at the side table.

"When did you turn errand boy anyways? I was under the impression that Emissaries were for political relations– meetings, balls and the such." Rhys offers him a glass. "I thought messenger was your twin's job."

Lucien downs the glass in one mouthful.

"That was a 500 year old Scotch."

"Andras is dead."

Rhys pours him another glass.

He walks to the balcony and Rhys allows the male a moment to compose himself before joining. Leant against the cold stone the two stare out at the sprawling mountain side, content to sip on their drinks.

"I'm surprised Feyre didn't mention it." There was a definite bitterness to his voice so Rhys raises a brow at him but Lucien only scoffs. "Andras got... bored. You know what he's like, constantly exploring and leaving Eris and I to clean up his messes. Tam tried to put him in as a guard, to give him some routine."

Rhys snorts in amusement. If Lucien's mask was the cunning fox then Andras would have falcon, content to go where the winds take him.

"It was his turn to go over the wall for the curse. Bound into the skin of a wolf when Feyre-'' He doesn't need to say and Rhys exhales slowly, yet another weight of death sinking into his soul.

"Why are you trying to get Feyre back then." Rhys asks, it would make sense if Lucien wanted her to suffer. If that was why he stood idly by when Tamlin locked her away, using it as a form of punishment for killing his brother.

Lucien sighs, "i'm not doing if for Feyre, I'm doing it for my mate."

"You're finding your mate another lover? Failing to reach the mark little fox."

"You can be a real bastard sometimes, you know that?" Lucien snarls.

"So I've been told." Maybe it's the bitterness in his voice, or because of the way Rhys can feel his eyes darken but Lucien does move to leave like he expected him to. He only sighs.

"Tamlin needs a purpose. Saving Feyre, keeping her safe and paying off the debt he owes her seems like a good one to have." Rhys could be sick at the similarities between himself and the High Lord of Spring. "If it helps Tamlin heal then who am I to judge."

"But it's not helping is it."

"Is it helping you?" Lucien retorts and Rhys raises his glass in mock toast.

Rhys can feel a headache coming on when silence descends. It's clear that Lucien is waiting for him to say something else but he's not sure what's worth giving away to the male and what he already knows.

Eventually it's Lucien that breaks first, "Tarquin has some interesting things to say about you."

"I bet he does." Rhys grumbles and Lucien's lips twitch with amusement.

"Something about a 'thieving old gremlin' and an 'arrogant prat'." Lucien muses and Rhys sighs, this is really not helping his desire to rehabilitate the Night Court's reputation. "Though Varian seemed to have mooncalf eyes when I visited."

"He seems to have grown a self destructive fascination with my second in command." Lucien physically shudders and Rhys has to fight the urge to snigger at his expense. "Is there a question by any chance in your observations?"

"Tarquin seems to believe that you may have some connection to Hybern, that you were acting as his... errand boy..." he probably deserved that slight. "In retrieving an ancient artefact."

For a moment Rhys eyes the male, and if only for the way he doesn't back down from his stare and the familiar tan of his skin does Rhys say, "No, Lucien, the Night Court is not allied with Hybern, nor do we have any intention of being."

He hums in agreement.

"What have you heard from Eris and your father?" Lucien loses all diplomatic composure and actually snorts in response. "Not good, I take it?"

"Eris is furious with Bastian at the moment, he apparently had some kind of indiscretion over the wall."

"He's the second oldest?"

"Mmm-hmm, it seem the pair are too busy squabbling over who the heir is to take any notice of Hybern."

"There's always at least one idiot in the family." Rhys murmurs and he can see Lucien physically fight the urge to make a joke about it.

"I've not been in contact with the High Lord since Jesminda." It's the way that Lucien's voice softens that threatens to have Rhys crumbling. The grief that still lingers, forcing his own to rise to the surface. "Dare I ask why you are being so... amiable?"

He probably should have expected that question.

"I've grown... weary of conflict. My time Under the Mountain has done wonders to change my view on allies and my own ruling."

"So this is an attempt at redemption."

"I prefer the term rehabilitation." Rhys muses but Lucien is still looking at him curiously. "For a moment, I saw a glimpse into my future. The cruel ruler, hated by all for their ability to let cruelty fester and rot."

Lucien sighs and finishes his drink. The glass clinks in the silence as he places it on the marble balcony. Rhys lets him walk away, knowing that he had been foolish with his openness. But it was the truth, and Rhys was tired of lying.

"For the record Rhys," Lucien calls over his shoulder as he strides from the room. "You are nothing like her."

Rhys wished he could believe him.

A/N: Okay so this was going to actually be a conversation between Rhys and Azriel but... well this happened instead. (and yes I kept in the flashback at the start for the sole purpose of the "keeping up with the batboys" line)

Solstice is the next few chapters, any requests?