A Court Of Mist And Fury – some major spoilers on this one. Don't read it unless you have read the book already and having a massive bookhangover like me, I would just like to imagine what would have happend if Feyre was taken from Rhys by Lucien. And I wanted to share it with you guys, forgive my grammer mistakes English isn't my first tongue.

It was no suprise at all, not really, not with Tamlin. Here stood Feyre, deep within the forest steppes of the Night Court. A few hunderd kilometers away from the camp where Az, Rhys and Cassian had grown up. When a damming voice whisperd a single word, her name. "Feyre."

She whirled, arrow nocked and aimed at the source of the voice – four Spring Court sentinels stalked from behind the trees behind me like the Water Wraith she had met on the horrible day of the Tithe. A predater, smooth and lethal, but unlike her they were armed to the teeth.

And between them there was Lucien.

His red hair was tied back, he wore no finery whatsoever. Just knives, swords and armored leather. "We have been hunting for you for over two months," he breathed, scanning the sky, the woods, the stream. His metal eye going wild while searching our surroundings. Hunting for me. Not searching or looking. Like I was prey and nothing else, like I am the High Lord's pet.

"How did you find me?" my voice so cold that it had past recognition and belonged to a diffrent woman.

"someone tipped us off you'd been out here, but it was luck that we caught your scent on the wind, and – " Lucien took a step towards me. I stepped one back. Lucien's eye slightly widened. "We need to get out of here. Tamlin's been – he hasn't been himslef. I'll take you right to –"

"No." I breathed, soft but vicious. As bending as steel.

The sentinels glanced between themselfs, then to the arrow I kept aimed. "Feyre," Lucien said, holding out a hand. "Let's go home." I didn't move a centimeter. "That stopped being my home the day you let him lock me up inside of it."

Lucien's mouth tightened. "It was a mistake. We all make mistakes. He's sorry – more than you realize. So am I." he stepped toward me again, and I also took a step back. And raised my bow, aimed for his throat.

Cassian's training crashed into me, as if all the training was a safety net. Once Lucien touched me he would winnow us out. Not far, he wasn't that strong, but he was fast and regains his power quickly so he could winnow again, again and again until Rhys had no chance of finding me again. He knew, he knew that Rhys was close.

"Feyre." He pleaded, daring another step his hand outraised. I backed up as far as I could, until I was on the edge of the stream before it plunged downwards, rolling off a cliff so steep she couldn't risk it. "Put the arrow down." He said it like he was soothing a wild animal. The sentinels closed in. Herding me. The High Lord's pet and possession indeed. "Don't." I breathed, grinding my teeth, trying to leash the uprising panic and rage. "Touch. Me."

"You don't understand the mess we're in, Feyre. We – I need you home. Now." I didn't want to hear it. Peering at the streak below, I calculated my odds. The look cost me. Luncien lunged for me, hand out. One touch, that is all it would take. One. Simple. Touch. He was fast, too fast. Lucien finger grazed the sleeve of my leather jacket. I reached within myself, into the power of the High Lord's. Into my power. A spark of brute strength sprang to life in my chest, I whilled it into a blade pointing outwards, pointing to him. Waiting to be unleashed, waiting for bloodshed. But before I could stab their hearts Lucien winnowed us out.

I kicked, struggeld and screamed at Lucien as we went. Doing everything in my power to make him drop me, losing my bow and arrows in the proces. He had grapped me the second we started winnowing, he had hold me beneath my armpits and was crushing me into his chest now.

Don't said a voice filled with rage, bloodlust, desperation and worry, for me. Rhys voice, guiding me. I was almost sobbing with relieve. If he drops you, you will be stuck in this fold of the world. No one could save you, even the Cauldron itself would be powerless.

What can we do?

While he winnows nothing, but as soon he stops Feyre, fight. Give us some time to find you. Everybody has been alerted and looking for you.

OK, OK, I took the steadiest breath I could force from my lungs. Rhys… I'm scared.

A pause of awe and sadness on his end. I'm too. I'm sacred too, Feyre. But not for himself, but for me.

He was worried sick.

Winnowing never lasted long, but it sure as Hell felt like it now. The seconds were stretched thin, feeling like forever. Then with a pale faced Lucien and the four sentinels, she slammed into fresh ground. Lucien shielded her most of it, but she still got a mean slap on her cheekbone from a stone. Before they had stopped rolling, she kicked her way out of Lucien's firm grip on her and was instantly on her feet, so fast that she was seeing stars. She let the smallest of cracks break through her mental shields, a crack just for Rhys. To let his eyes see what mine were seeing. She didn't hear a word from him but she felt him, he was so desperate that he didn't even lecture her about being so certain that he would show up, not someone else. And what he was seeing was rather plain, a wide meadow that stretched to the horizon and back, Lucien frightingly pale. And the four sentinels standing gaurd, not only to outward threats but also gaurding themself from her. Gaurding Lucien.

"Where are we?" she said with quiet fury. Lucien rose slowly to his feet, a small groan escaping his lips. His eye glazed with pure exhaustion.

"Where. Are. We?" she said louder, her rage escaping it's leash.

Lucien put his hands up in a sign of peace. Just for that she wanted to spit in his remaining eye. He had taken me against my wish. She had even sent a letter, a letter that told him and Tamlin that she has left on her free will. She had told them that she didn't want to come back. And yet he, he and tamlin, had chosen to ignore it. Just like Tamlin had chosen to reject almost all of her reguests, her ideas what was good for her. She wanted to destroy him for it.

"Feyre, please. We're not your enemies." He's panting but managed too make his voice sound calm, already regaining some of color on his sweaty face. Don't make me laugh, was all that she could think before she gave into her rage. Rage that was filled with stars and darkness and ash. A rage that was caused by her being taken from her home.

Darkness was pooling around her. Coming off her like waves with the steady beat of a enraged heart.

Don't show too much off your power. Rhys whisperd into her, her body reacting like it was a warm bath after a long day off training. If you're not able to find you it will be you're greatest edge on them.

She wanted to rip these men apart like the they were made of paper. Make their deaths so gruesome that it would make the most hardend warriors puke their guts up and take a good damn time to do it. But she knew she couldn't, she had already lost the element of suprise, the only edge that she had now was that Lucien was exhausted but already looking strong enough to winnow them a few kilometers further. It was now or never, so she launched.

The four sentinels reached for their swords, out of pure reflex, but hesitated, remembering the orders Tamlin no doubt had given them. It was a window, the smallest most impossible window in the histroy of human and Fearie's but she took it. Lucien was fast but not fast enough this time. Not with her High Fea speed and power He dodged her first fist, sidestept the second, but the third hit him straight on his jaw, his bone crunching beneath her pained knuckles. He fell back, falling so slow as time was starting to act different. She didn't think of it twice, she couldn't think at all with the roar inside her head, couldn't see anything else then the red blurring her vision. So before he was fully on the ground she was on his chest, with his knives inside her clenched fists. He was the main engine of this group, if he couldn't winnow, no one could. By crippeling him, she would buy her family time, time to find her and take her back home. To Velaris, the City of Starlight.

She didn't feel any regret, remorse or even pity for his pain when she pushed those blades into his abdomon. Lucien's roar filled the meadow, the sky, her very bones. She left one in him, twisting to worsen his agony, the one in her other hand tasted the air as she raised it to blindly push it back in. Where she didn't care.

Multiple hands grapped her. She was strashing against them, lashing out with her dark magic. Their own magic used as shields, already breaking beneath her red-hot fury.

She felt a piece of cold metal, just a bit bigger than a hair, being pushed beneath her skin of her neck. She cursed with every foul word she knew, the sentinels and Lucien barely able to contain her, her magic. Then she felt a cold liquid filling the vein where her lifeblood coursed through her.

No… Rhys whisperd. Her body feeling more terror at his breathless horror, than being sticked with a piece off metal and having a strange liquid forced in her body.

Then she didn't know what waking and sleeping meant.

xXx

How is she?

Tamlin – she has… she has changed. Whatever that bastard has been doing her. Lucien hissed through his teeth. His claws are deep within her, Tamlin. She was prepared to kill me and Bron and Hart. He has manipulated her to the point where she believes that we're the Night Court. That we're the killers. A loaded silence fell.

A growl was losend that shook the entire manor, the entire grounds and no doubt beyond.

What have you seen? Is she – is she hurt? They both knew that Tamlin didn't mean physical or mental abuse.

Again silence. Has. He. Hurt. Her. The words were dripping with the promise of voilence. To whoever would be upholding information on this matter. A swallow was so loud that it could be heard through the glass doors.

She reeks of him, I don't scent anything but that. Feyre wonderd how this Tamlin guy must have looked like, only to see what had triggerd the following reaction.

Tamlin, easy. Tamlin! Tamlin! Listen to me. Their was a growl that made the previeus look like a drop of power. She heard silenced hurried footstepts, she heard the birds flee in terror and the world went too quiet for her liking. We are going to make that prick pay, alright? He is going to feel every bit of her despair and fear twice over, but now, now she needs us. Even when she won't realize it. Right now, we – you need to focus on her.

xXx

Feyre was gently woken by a hand shaking her shoulder softly. She grumbeld something unaudible and turned on the bed of…? Grass? Did I fall asleep while training? Did Rhys really let me sleep in the snow?

"Feyre." Someone said a breathy confession and a devastating sin. A part of her wanted to look who was shaking her, but a slumbering weight was pushing on her. Her head felt too light and heavy at once, and she felt a tiredness in her very bones.

"Feyre." The same person said. Her gut told her that he ( or was it a she? ) was familiar with her and she didn't want to see him/her. There was only one person who she would feel like that with him around. "O, fuck off Rhys. I know I need to train but why are you waking me before sunrise?" She tucked her head with her ams, cutting the swearwords off who were forming on her lips. The hand on her shoulder stiffeld. Why?

Then it all came back to her. Rhys, Lucien. Tamlin. Rhys, o dear Cauldron.

She shot upright so fast her head bumped with Lucien's. She was running away before her High Fea had adjusted to the darkness of where ever he had winnowed her too. She made in total three steps before she was catched by a web of hands.

She was forced to turn back to Lucien. Only to find Lucien's red-haired to be replaced by golden hair and green vibrant eyes. The eyes of spring. The eyes of the High Lord of the Spring Court. She was back within the Spring Court. Back within her prison.

And those green spring eyes were filled with relieve, love, but also genuine hurt and disguist. Hurt because her first reaction was to run from him. Disguist from – from the smell that wasn't there before she had left the Night Court.

Her home.

And it was the smell of Rhysand, rubbed so clearly and loud that it didn't sugest anything other that she and Rhys have never left the other one's side. Or that they have been together in a very intimate way.

Tamlin took warily a step forward. Feyre didn't bother by stepping back, she was sick from running this man. This man who had hurt her in so many ways. So she stood her ground, she straightend her spine, chin up, she stopped struggeling against the hands who where still on her arms and shoulders. And stared that man, that monster down.

"Feyre, do you – do you remember me?" his eyes full of worry, so full of relieve of having her back. To have his personal pet back, his possesion.

There weren't words that expressed the amount of hate she felt burning in her chest. Hate towards every aspect of this man. So she didn't speak, because body to body was the only way they were able to communicate.

She spit in his face.

Honest and genuine pain lingerd in his eyes, so clearly writen that she spit on him again.

And walked away. Walked away and walked towards her prison. Every step followed by his eyes burning at her back.

I will get you out of there Feyre. Rhys voice swore, nothing less then pure detemination. She knew he would. He would do everything in his power to get her back. With no compromise.

I know you will Rhys. But you won't start a war over me, we will figure this out. We will find a way out, without endangering your lands. My voice just sounded like his. No compromise. Detemined. Not bending, not in this question.

Ofcourse we will, Feyre darling. Rhys purred, a lion awaiting the challenge ahead.

Notes: what did you guys think? I needed a hour to properly read the scene in the book. I couldn't stop fangirling! What where you're favorite parts in ACOMAF? let me know what you guys think of my fanfiction.