𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.
chapter two; Turning in The Trials
" I cage you like the monster that you are. "

  NIXIE'S EYES TUGGED open, the woman herself attempting to force her body to awaken along with her mind. Her feet drug against the rough floor, arms hooked into her own, chains rattling against her bones trapped inside paper-thin skin.

  The woman tried to catch herself as this support disappeared in an instant, though all Nixie managed was to avoid her face harshly greeting the flooring. She heard a chuckle-- the hair on her arms standing up as she froze in place.

  "What a pitiful thing. . . Rhysand, aren't you thankful I hide this creature from your sight?"

  Rhys's throat bobbed, his eyes daring to shift down to the woman at the foot of Amarantha's throne.

  He hadn't seen her clearly in just over twenty years. The dim lighting could cloak what Nixie had become, but here, nothing was hidden.

  Her hair had matted tightly to her scalp, a pain she'd grown accustomed to. Her skin was pale, bones shining through, and those deep dark wings, caked with dirt and blood, withered harshly from the pain they'd been subjected to.

  She was an oddity. A rare piece from Amarantha's collection, that she scarcely pulled out. But today, it was working. Nixie might as well have been boxed in glass, on exhibit for all to see, a breathing reminder of the cruelty Amarantha embodied.

  "Yes," Rhys spoke evenly, a tone of indifference as he peered down at her. "I can hardly stand to look at her."

  Even after years of being forced to pull out the dark cloak of High Lord, the words he spoke against Nixie still stung like fresh wounds. He still struggled sometimes to find the right words, to force them out of the attic of his throat, spit them at Amarantha's feet and only hope for her approval.

  He loathed it.

  "Even at my worst," Nixie croaked, lifting her eyes through pitch-black hair, "I'm still a better sight than you."

  Nixie screamed before she could register what had cut at her wing. She let out a breath, almost smiling at the clear chord she'd struck.

  She basked in the hatred of it all. Her own anger boiling up, Amarantha's rage re-igniting the dying embers— to Nixie, it would always be better to live off of wrath than to die in peace.

  "That's why you have me hidden away, anyways, isn't it?"

  Amarantha straightened, flocked by two High Lords who were nothing short of horrified at Nixie's words.

  "I cage you like the monster that you are."

  Nixie fell silent, her shoulders slumping. She could feel Rhys's eyes on her, even as a girl approached the platform the four of them perched upon.

  "Well, Feyre. . ."

  Nixie's eyes focused, taking in every feature of her. Her next-door neighbor in their grim resting place, the Mortal girl who would face the trials of a maniac.

  She looked athletic. Strong-willed, though this was obvious to even the blind. Nixie could only hope this girl would bring the winds of change to that stale place.

  "Your first task is here," Amarantha continued, "Let us see how deep that human affection of yours runs. I took the liberty of learning a few things about you. . . it was only fair, you know. I think you'll like this task. Go ahead, look."

  Nixie's eyes wandered to the deep trenches, caked with wet mud. Rhys hadn't gotten to explain what trials would ensue, so when Feyre was shoved harshly into the arena, Nixie's heart sputtered.

  "Rhys tells me you're a huntress," Amarantha spoke, "Hunt this."

  Feyre spent the first few minutes trying to outrun the Middengard Worm, which only worsened Nixie's worries. She'd never be able to outrun it, to hide or escape it.

  The only way out was through it.

  "If you're a huntress, hunt it!"

  Even though she'd only heard it once before, the voice struck a chord within Feyre-- her feet seemed to stumble for a moment, though she quickly realized now was not the time to search for the woman.

  Feyre just listened.

  Nixie's eyes had blown wide with hunger, grasping at the first light of hope, leaning closer as Feyre began thinking, clearly. As if Nixie could see the gears turning, her hands gripped onto the ground, anxiously watching the mortal's every move.

  And Tamlin's lip curled up without his knowledge at the sight.

  Rhys wasn't as blind to this as Nixie was. He pushed his own anger down, focusing back on what had Nixie's attention grasped.

  Feyre was setting a trap. A beautiful, glorious trap for the monster that searched for the girl that had smeared herself with mud, cloaking her scent from the blind Wyrm.

  Nixie couldn't hold in the shouting of happiness that came when Feyre's insane trap actually worked. For the moment Feyre had been in the air, jumping over the Wyrm and her trap, Nixie's heart had stopped, but when the beast had impaled itself on what Feyre had left for it, her glee came out.

  And was followed by a cry of agony.

  Feyre watched in horror as Nixie passed out from the pain, deep red blood dripping onto the wood from her body that lay at the feet of the three.

  "Take her out of my sight, she's no longer useful."

  With a wave of her hand, the men that had brought Nixie once again hauled her away, and the glimmer of worry in Feyre's eyes sparked a wild grin on Amarantha's face.

  "So, you know Nixie well?"

  Feyre's eyes snapped back to the woman with a cruel smile, tapping her nails on Tamlin's knee hauntingly.

  "No."

  Amarantha nodded, finding far too much fun in her own game.

  "You have empathy for a wounded, wild animal, then," She noted, leaning back in her throne, "I suppose anyone could've done that."

  The woman gestured to the Middengard Wyrm's body.

  "To make things ever more interesting, that animal's life now relies on your trials as well."

  Rhys couldn't help the words that spilled.

  "Wait--"

  "That wasn't a part of the deal," Feyre interrupted, "She's innocent--"

  "She's taken more lives than you can ever imagine," Amarantha explained carelessly, "She's an Illyrian. Born and bred for it. It's not as if there's truly a life hanging in the balance. Her own High Lord thinks of her as expendable, along with the rest of her race, just foot-soldiers in a never-ending army, right, Rhysand?"

  His face was tight as he agreed.

  But Feyre knew that wasn't true. He wouldn't have visited her if she was expendable, he wouldn't have risked anything for a girl who didn't matter.

  No, Feyre had seen it now, too late for hiding. Rhysand had a heart, even if only for one person, he cared for Nixie as a brother to a sister, their bond bound by something other than blood.

Though Feyre had no idea what it meant to be an Illyrian, she did know what it meant to kill. And how could someone who was good stomach doing that over and over and over?

She didn't have time to say anything else as the Attor hauled her off.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
Even after 50 years, Nixie still
gets under Amarantha's skin and
I LIVE for it. Also I know in the books
Rhys wasn't sitting with Tamlin and
Amarantha but idk it made sense
to me for the configuring of things
SORRY