What do you want?

"Just to say goodbye." It came out of me breathlessly, with my hands digging into my pockets anxiously and trying my best not to look her in the eyes. But standing out there, only with her and without having to force the darkness in my voice, I couldn't stop myself from being selfish. Because, frankly, the more I looked at her, the more I saw. Now that we weren't in the mountain and I didn't have to see Tamlin's stupid face, I felt like there was no strings holding us back. I wanted her – it wasn't a question. Maybe, just maybe, if I could get out of that damned mountain, than someone loving me is possible too. I could even see a life with her, a child or two. Mor would like her, Cassian would probably hit on her, Amren would admire her strength and Az could understand why I liked her within a milisecond. I could see her living with me, smiling at me, making pancakes with me and laughing with my family. Her snarkiness, her would fit in so perfectly that it was practically unnerving. And for the first time, I could imagine her in love with me. That the possibility was there. Just by looking in her eyes, which no longer seemed resentful of me, I could finally imagine.

But then I added the catch, the one thing that broke all of those dreams and only left me with nightmares, "Before your beloved whisks you away forever." Forever. I couldn't imagine not seeing her forever.

"Not forever," she said, as if she could hear the voice in my head. She wiggled her tattoo sarcastically. "Don't you get a week every month?" And maybe I should've told her that it wasn't enough, not for me. Even if she'd never love me, and I could somehow push my love for her down, it wasn't enough. I was too selfish - too greedy to share. I needed more.

"How could I forget?" I said, playing a small smile on my lips, though strained. But she had to see the pain, the soon to come truth that I would in fact release her of our bargain as soon as I could stomach it. When it came down to it, I didn't want her. Not like this.

As the silence deepened,I felt like that was my farewell – because how could I say goodbye? She was what woke me up. There would never be a goodbye with her. Not really. But as I was just about to step on my heel, her voice pulled me back.

"Why?" She asked abruptly. I hesitated for just a moment, feeling like I couldn't speak as I rose my eyebrows. There was a thousand answers to her question, and I knew the safe answer. The answer that would leave my farewell amicable, maybe even forgotten.

"Because when the legends get written, I didn't want to be remembered for standing on the sidelines. I want my future offspring to know that I was there, and that I fought against her at the end, even if I couldn't do anything useful." It wasn't necessarily a lie, but the answer was so much simpler, and it ran off my tongue before I could stop it:

"Because I didn't want you to fight alone. Or die alone." Her face shifted for a moment, as if my words sparked something in her mind. Like she understood it. She realized how, in the end, we weren't too different. That maybe I wasn't too bad of a guy.

Maybe I had a chance.

"Thank you," she whispered, the words falling off her red lips. I smiled, a feeling of warmth exploding in my body, but I couldn't help but wonder if this would be the last time she ever said thank you to me. Because there was so much that she didn't know.

"I doubt you'll be saying that when I take you to the Night Court," I said honestly, with a hint of bitterness. Because if I took her like that, like I promised, like some item, she would hate me. Like she was some piece that I won. I wasn't like Tamlin. I'd never be like Tamlin. I didn't want this bargain to be the only way she saw me. I wanted her to want me.

"Are you going to fly home?" She added wistfully, looking at the sky as if she was dying to know what was past Tamlin's estate once she got back, and wondering if she would ever know. I bit my lip, suddenly curious on whether or not she would enjoy flying. Was being set free what she needed? Or did she have enough adventure for a life time? Would she ever be strong enough to live again?

"Unfortunately, it would take longer than I can afford. Another day, I'll taste the skies again." She tilted her head curiously, her grey-blue eyes twinkling.

"You never told me you loved the wings – or the flying." My eyes lit up instantly, thinking of the idea of soaring around with her right now, my imagination running. She was nearly testing me to swoop her up and leave with her as I heard the aching of something new, give her the opportunity to abandon the boring, placid life that Tamlin wants to enforce into her. But I knew the cost. And the costs were too great.

"Everything I love has always had a tendency to be taken from me. I tell very few about the wings. Or the flying." My family, full of outcasts and estranged miracles, blared in my mind suddenly – they were probably waiting for me right now. I had spent fifty years dying to see them again, committing acts worse than death just to remember them, but now that I was finally free they seemed to have disappeared from my mind. Probably wondering why the hell I hadn't come back yet. But I couldn't leave without seeing if there was even the slightest chance she would be happy. Even though the guilt was hitting me like a bomb, I didn't want her being haunted by her past like I'll always be. I wanted to make sure, before I leave, that she'll be okay.

And she didn't look okay. Even though she had been starved under that mountain and had nearly died of madness, she looked more like death than I had ever seen her. Her eyes, filled with sadness and self-hatred, drained the color from her face and it made me wonder if her body - now simply skin and bones - would ever recover. Was she correct all along? Could Tamlin's love cure her troubles? Would immortality save her?

"How does it feel to be High Fae?" I asked, trying to keep my sentences short, and forcing myself not to let out too much. I couldn't let myself get more attached. I had a life, and she had her's.

But she looked down at herself, as if lost already, "I'm an immortal-who has been mortal. This body-" She said in such disgust that I nearly cringed. "This body is different, but this-" Her heart, her beautiful strong heart. "This is still human. Maybe it always will be. But it would have been easier to live with it...easier to live with what I did if my heart had changed, too. Maybe I wouldn't care so much; maybe I could convince myself their deaths weren't in vain. Maybe immortality will take that away. I can't tell whether I want it to."

I was stuck there. My mouth opened, waiting for myself to leave with a mocking retort, but I had never heard someone ever put that feeling into words. The feeling of murdering someone that you would never be allowed to grieve, to walk away and know that one day you'll have to kill another. And even if that person was awful, we weren't God. It shouldn't be our choice who lives and who dies. We shouldn't have that kind've power, mortal or not.

And in a way, I was a bit envious. The illyarians forced us to suppress that feeling, to pretend it didn't exist. When, in the end, it was the only thing I felt some days.

"Be glad of your human heart, Feyre. Pity those who don't feel anything at all." Her eyes flashed, but there was nothing. It seemed like she wanted to argue, but arguing with me was useless. Whatever she felt, whatever she thought she needed, has the ability to change.

"Well, goodbye for now," I said, bowing to her. I stepped back, but then I locked onto her eyes too hard. Fully. My eyes connecting with the blue-grey landscape that suddenly everything - her sadness, her anxiety, her whistfullness. And even though I felt the bargain trickle across my arm, I had never felt her emotions so deep.I had never seen it. My selfishness took over and suddenly I was stuck on her. My body, frozen yet emotion was pouring over me so fast that I inhaled raggedly. I couldn't move - how could I walk away? Why couldn't I walk away? She was just a girl. I had been in love with others in the past, small spurts and infatuations, but there have been times where I thought I had been in love. How this any different? It was fake, my own desperation pulling me towards her, a facade.

But then the words, like a whisper, hit me. Shes my mate.

My mate, my eternal, immortal mate. Connecting us, like a thin yet indestructible string pulling us together. The mate that was designed for me, the reason I couldn't stop loving her even though she hated me. The way I always watched he every step, her every glance when she walked into the room, the only person that ever made me wonder if there was more than just a Cauldron in this world. The reason why she was glowing in front of me, My mate. She truly was my mate, I could feel it - not just in my heart, but all over me. In ever wound that I had ever endured, every injury that I got through battle, training and pain, I could feel her heart beating. It was like she was filling me up. It was like she was healing me.

And yet she, within a day, would be living in my second-most enemy's bed, making love to him, being his utter possession, doing anything and everything he wanted simply because her heart, damaged and weak, loved him. Being reduced to practically nothing - being reduced to nothing more than my mother was with her fragile, vulnerable wings. And she didn't even know it yet. But if she felt me, if I told her and she accepted my offering - my mate...

You have to walk away, I told myself.You ruined it. She'll never be yours. Now walk away.

Walk away, Rhysand. I heard Amren saying it in my head, Cassien saying it, Az saying it, even Mor saying it. All of them, my comrades, telling me to walk away because I knew thats what they would do. Because people like us, outsiders and pariahs, weren't meant to be in love. It was against the rules.

But then I felt my hand grab her, knowing that I shouldn't left. I missed my second. I had a second to walk away, and now I couldn't do it.

"I'm so sorry," I said to her, before grabbing her and winnowing away.

~discidium~

When I got to the house, Mor was sitting on the couch. She lifted her face and looked at me blankly, but then liveliness kicked into her eyes - realization. I was alive and free. Her High Lord, her best friend, was back. She jumped to her feet, staring at me at a distance in awe. I wanted to take in every detail of her, just like she was taking in every detail of me, but then I looked down at the gangly girl, her eyes closed from passing out from the harsh winnowing. I began to get dizzy. My eyes, which probably stopped Mor from embracing me, were dancing all around me madly, unable to focus.

"Rhysand..."

I was in my house. Feyre was in my arms. I was free.

"Mor.Mor. I did something bad," I said, heaving. Her face had drained white and she looked like she may puke herself, but for all the wrong reasons. She didn't know the sins I had committed yet, what treacheries I had done. She took a small step towards me, but she was still taking me in. She couldn't believe it. Maybe even fearful. "Oh fuck, I did something really bad."

"Fifty years..." She whispered. "Fifty years and-"

"I took her, I accidentally took her," I said fast, my hands shaking. "Mor. Mor!" Finally, her eyes tore away and she looked at the girl in my arms, as if waking up from a dream. Obviously, Mor hadn't seen her at all, she was too occupied staring at me to see what I had been carrying.

"Is she dead?" She asked in a too-soft voice, eyeing the wounds and starvation on not only her but me as well. I shook my head, feeling like I may puke now. "Who is she? Rhys, who the hell is she?! RHYS!" My lips were trembling.

"She's my mate. My mate," I said, loudly now. "And a lover. Tamlin's lover. I...I think I stole her."

OKAY. This is a rough beginning but I wanted to see if it hit off. Review if you want more or whatever.