Rhiannon knew it was bad news when Rhys couldn't quite get the words out. She saw a dozen emotions in her brother's expression; anger, frustration, regret, worry.

The words did not quite register in those first few moments. Then it felt like an icy hand was gripping her stomach, enough to make her feel ill, and her blood ran cold in her veins.

"He did what?" Cassian growled. 

"That cold-hearted bastard," Mor's eyes were flashing, clearly scared, both for Rhiannon and no doubt the memories being dragged up. "Not yet, she's only seventeen,"

"The bargain said that she had to be married by the time she turned twenty,"

Her mother let out a stream of violent curses, whilst Azriel was silent, hands gripping the hilt of Truth-Teller hard enough that his knuckles were white. Amren was quiet too, though even she looked serious; it appeared that Rhys had told her the news already.

"Who is she betrothed to?" Aithusa's eyes were wild. Clearly she misliked remembering exactly how much she could hate her mate, the male she had quietly mourned since his death, more for what he was than who he was.

"Lord Voren Bane," Rhys said dully, and Mor's face immediately twisted in dislike. A promising sign... "He's Keir's second. Has been for the last eight hundred years,"

"Eight hundred," Cassian gawped. "How old is the male?"

"He recently celebrated his eleven-hundred and fifty second birthday," Her brother closed his eyes briefly. "Azriel has been looking into him," He glanced at the spymaster. 

Judging from the look on Azriel's face, he had not been told the exact reasons why he had been asked to do so. But after a pointed look at Rhys, he spoke.

"Outwardly, he's cold, competent and seemingly content to remain in Keir's shadow whilst doing most of the work. Everything you'd expect from a dutiful second," The Shadowsinger paused. "There's evidence to suggest he's been plotting for a while, though - Rhiannon is part of his plans. He seems to wish for the Court of Nightmares to become less isolated and wants to gain influence outside the Hewn City, which will never happen under Keir's leadership,"

"That's... not the worst thing, surely?" Cassian asked. "Not everyone in that city is an evil scumbag, just most of the ones who rule it,"

"It depends on his motives," Rhys sounded doubtful. "If Lord Voren is angling for a power grab, then that is hardly ideal. But if he merely wants stronger ties to the outside world for his people... I suppose the Court of Nightmares may have dreamers too," 

He trailed off, glancing at Rhiannon almost guiltily, but she got the hint and nodded to his unasked question. Yes, she could find that out. At least she would be useful to her brother and his court, rather than an ornament on her husband's arm. 

She turned to Azriel.

"What's he like?" She hated how young her voice sounded. 

"His politics may not be traditional but his values are," Azriel replied, face showing regret but not sparing her the truth. "He's cold and distant, too. He seems to prefer books and his work to females,"

"That's better than the alternative," Her mother said darkly. 

"Lucky me," Rhiannon managed to choke out, earning a multitude of irritatingly sympathetic looks.

"Rhys, is there nothing you can do?" Mor sounded just as pained, glancing at her. "I can't let you go through with what I managed to escape, Rhi,"

"Well I'm definitely not escaping it the same way," She muttered, making Cassian snort.

"Agreed,"

"My father made a bargain," Rhys' jaw tightened. "That was to be maintained even in the case of his death. Believe me, the wording is foolproof - Amren and I have been poring over it for days. Even if that wasn't impossible to work around, breaking such a betrothal would start a war," The look he gave her was almost pleading. "Rhi, I'll still try to think of a way out of this, but - "

"Don't bother," Rhiannon said dully. "You won't find one. Father was a cold bastard but he was clever. I'll do it without a fight, but I want conditions,"

"Of course," He said instantly. "Anything,"

"I don't want to be trapped there. I want to spend half my time in Velaris, if I want to. I also want Mor's job as liaison to the Hewn City. I don't care if you think I'm inexperienced - it gives me an official reason to come back here," She turned to her cousin. "And you despise the job anyway. I also want the Moonstone Palace. I'm not living down under the mountain in the dark,"

"Of course," Rhys said again, then paused. "Rhi, I'm so sorry - "

"Don't," She got to her feet rather numbly and left.

Everyone seemed to want to reach out to her after finding out about her unfortunate betrothal. Some attempts were helpful, some were not. Mor gave her a well-meant but misguided speech on staying true to herself and not giving in to the ways of the Court of Nightmares; rather annoying, as Rhiannon did not want to be hated in a place she would live half her life, but her cousin's hug and promise that she would always be there for her made up for it. Rhys came to apologise yet again, and she snapped at him saying it was hardly his fault. 

Her mother had simply told her to practice her combat training, with both magic and weapons, and to simply flee back to Velaris if anything kicked off. She also gave her a ring, where if she sent any of her magic into it, it would call her mother at once. That had been more welcome, as she didn't offer any apologies or sympathy.

Cassian helped a little, too; he had simply promised to teach anyone in the Court of Nightmares who looked at her the wrong way a lesson. Similarly, Azriel told her he was in the Hewn City often, and had ways of making people disappear, or suffer a violent death. He said his shadows were always there, and would let him know if she was in trouble, which made her feel somewhat comforted.

Rhiannon's three closest friends her age in Velaris clearly didn't quite understand the entire situation when she explained it up at the House of Wind, the four of them sat high on the roof with their legs dangling off the side. Several bottles of pilfered, half-drunk wine rested upright in the gutter.

"But your brother is the High Lord," Rosina, the daughter of the cook at the townhouse, said with wide eyes. "Surely he can't be forced to give you up,"

"The contract is magically binding," She said gloomily, taking a swig from one of the bottles. "Even Amren can't find a way out of it," 

"So what happens if you just refuse?" Leo, who had just started work at his cousin Rita's bar, asked after gulping down a significant amount of wine. "Will the magic drag you to an altar in the Hewn City?"

"No idea. It might just kill me. Or make it unbearable to live without fulfilling it,"

"Your own father roped you into that?" Seralyn, who came from a family of merchants, looked disapproving. "What a bastard,"

"You can't say that!" Rosina gasped. "He was a high lord!"

"No, she's right, he was a bastard," Rhiannon said. "When he was alive, he barely even acknowledged me unless it was to tell me off. Rhys was practically the perfect heir but he just saw him as a threat. Even my mother didn't like him much, and she was his mate,"

There was a silence at that.

"Well, you've got nearly two years of freedom," Leo held up his nearly empty bottle in a mock toast. "Best enjoy it while you can,"

"I'll drink to that," She laughed, clinking her bottle against his and taking a large swig. The other two did the same.

"I think we're going to need more wine," Serren noticed wryly. 

"Are you sure the High Lord doesn't mind you taking his wine?" Rosina was rather more anxious about such things than the rest of them. Rhiannon supposed her friend's mother was directly employed by Rhys. 

"He's got so much he wouldn't even notice," She shrugged. "Rhys wouldn't care anyway. Even if he was angry, he'd blame me, not any of you," 

They clambered down from the roof, onto the lower level, then down from the wall. She could have flown, but ever since the day her father died she had not liked showing her wings to anyone other than her mother and Rhys, not even her closest friends. 

As they were crossing the veranda, Rhiannon heard the beat of large wings above them. That was the only warning they got before two Illyrian warriors slammed into the ground in front of them, making everyone but her jump out of their skins.

"Show offs," She scoffed, unimpressed, although she was in the minority there. Her friends still regarded Cassian and Azriel with an unearned degree of awe, with a dash of fear. "What do you two want?"

"What a way to be greeted, Az," Cassian shook his head in mock-disappointment. "You know, Rhi, I wasn't going to tell your mother we saw you getting drunk on the roof again, but now you've been so rude..."

"Again?" Azriel raised an eyebrow.

"Did Rhys not tell you about that unfortunate incident a few weeks ago?" Cassian started, eyes lighting up with glee.

"Don't you dare - " She started, but it was too late.

"Sweet Rhiannon and her little friends had a bit too much to drink. Resulting in one bratty young lady - who will go unnamed - falling off the roof and not being able to unfold her wings in time, because someone doesn't fly often enough. Thankfully Rhys saw her fall past the window and winnowed out to catch her,"

The stupid male was laughing by the time he had finished, along with all of her friends, and Azriel looked highly amused. Even Rhiannon had to smile, playing off her mortification at Azriel being told such an embarrassing story.

"You forget to mention that I didn't just fall off the roof, I fell off the mountain," She complained. "At least make it sound as impressive as it was. And I had drunk three bottles of wine,"

"Impressive?" Leo snorted. "You make it sound like you could handle it. There's a reason you fell off the roof,"

"It wasn't even a fall, really," Seralyn added. "More of a roll,"

"So the moral of the story is that poor Rhi is no longer allowed to drink on the roof, by order of Aithusa," Cassian said to Azriel, with a sly look her way. "After that appalling greeting, I might just go and tell her,"

"Don't be an ass!" She protested. "You may be one of my brother's best bootlickers, but I didn't take you for a snitch,"

"Bootlicker?" He said in mock-indignation.

"Well how do you think you became General other than your ability to kiss the High Lord's arse?" Even she wasn't taking her words seriously, starting to laugh. 

"You do know how to make your words hurt. What about Az?"

"Azriel's job is being a snitch,"

The shadows flared at that, and Rosina flinched slightly.

"You're not doing a very job of persuading us not to tell your mother," The Shadowsinger said, though was clearly not serious. To her, at least.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," She smirked, then. "I can be as much of a prick as I like. I have spies of my own, Spymaster," Rosina was a good source of information about things that went on in the townhouse. Leo working at Rita's was very useful indeed. And Seralyn knew an alarming amount of people through her family, and had a knack for remembering things Rhiannon would find interesting. She glanced at Cassian. "I know exactly what you got up to outside Rita's two nights ago," Then to Azriel. "And I know exactly why you couldn't look Mor in the eye after that incident in the kitchen,"

Both of their eyes widened, and they glanced at each other.

"If you don't ask, I won't," Cassian offered with a grimace, and Azriel gave a sharp nod.

"Do you want a job when you get sent to the Hewn City, Rhiannon?" The Shadowsinger asked.

"Maybe," She tried to pretend the offer didn't send a thrill through her, even if she knew he was at least mostly joking. "I'll be very busy already, as the new liasion," Mor was already showing her the ropes of that in preparation for her handing over the position; Rhiannon already could tell her cousin hated (therefore was not very good at) her job. It would make hers easier, then, for surely she could do better than that.

Cassian snorted.

"You're a piece of work," He said to her. "The Court of Nightmares won't know what hit them. Fine, you got us. We'll leave you to your drinking, though I can't winnow to save you if you fall off the roof again,"

"I do have wings," She rolled her eyes. "And despite what you think, I do know how to use them,"

"When you can see straight, at least," Leo muttered.

Later on that night, as they were all lying on the roof looking out at the beautiful city, the moon and stars above them, Rhiannon asked Rosina (the only one awake) an uncharacteristically serious question (brought on by alcohol and a wave of sadness).

"Would you come with me to the Hewn City? I could find a positions for you. Say you're part of my household, though I wouldn't make you work if you didn't want to. We'd be in Velaris half the time anyway. I can't ask Leo to leave the bar, and Seralyn likes working with her family - I just don't want to be alone," She was rambling slightly, and cut herself off.

"Of course," Her friend said immediately. "I could be your handmaid. I'd quite like that. Looking after your wardrobe, picking out clothes, doing your hair. Better than working in a kitchen all day,"

"Thank you," She smiled, pausing. "I'll make sure Rhys pays you a lot,"

*

Rhiannon was eighteen when she met her betrothed for the first time.

Lord Voren Bane was a tall man, as tall as Cassian, but was very lean. He was handsome enough, she supposed, despite his rather long face; his hair was dark brown, as was his close-trimmed beard. Though he looked no older than a human of thirty, she could tell he was ancient regardless, from the look in his eye and the way he held himself. His eyes were cold and watchful, a strikingly pale shade of grey that seemed to see right through her.

"Lady Aithusa," He inclined his head to her mother, who had chaperoned her on this visit, as he sat down behind his desk. They sat on two chairs in front of it. "Lady Rhiannon," His voice was quiet, but clear, the kind of voice people silenced themselves to listen to.

"Lord Voren," Aithusa did not even try to sound friendly, her expression and tone hard.

Voren barely blinked at her mother's rudeness, eyes sliding over to her. Rhiannon could tell that he was sizing her up, assessing her. That was highly irritating, so she fixed her most obnoxious smile on her face and met his pale-eyed stare.

"A pleasure to meet you at last, my lord. I can hardly wait for us to be wed," Her smile and words were charming. The painful bite of sarcasm in her tone was less so.

"Don't act the fool, it doesn't suit you," Voren seemed unfazed, merely giving a mild reprimand. "I am well aware you are less than enthused with the prospect of marrying a male nearly seventy times your age, though we both have the sense to know this union is based on politics. All I expect from you is to keep a respectable front in public and hold the alliance our marriage brings in good faith,"

"How romantic," She said with an amused glance at her mother. "Just what every girl dreams of. At least you're not insisting on me popping out a few children for you," His lip curled in slight distaste at that. Interesting. "Were you told that I will be the new liasion to the Hewn City?"

"I was," He said; she could not tell if he was pleased or displeased by her meddling. "You're too young for the job by all accounts, though you can hardly do worse than Lady Morrigan. At least you are wearing something vaguely respectable,"

Rhiannon had always favoured gowns in Night Court black, silver and gold. 

"Now I wish I had turned up in buttercup yellow," She smiled scornfully, making it clear she was only half-joking. "Oh, don't look like that, it's a joke! I won't push things too far. I'd rather not be despised by those I am to live alongside - and work with,"

There was something like approval in Voren's eyes at that. 

"I was told by your father that you were brazen and arrogant, but surprisingly intelligent when you want to be. Clearly that has not changed in the last eight years,"

She saw her mother's face tighten, as it still did at any mention of her lost mate. Her parents might not have loved each other, but the bond was as strong in them as in anyone, and losing her High Lord was still a source of great pain for Aithusa.

"What a loving father he was," Rhiannon drawled, idly glancing at the bookshelf behind his desk. There were many volumes on paintings, plays and even music, which was unexpected. "He went to all the trouble of an unbreakable contract binding me to you. Why you in particular?"

"Morcant was a pragmatist," Voren was surprisingly forthcoming. "Knowing Rhysand despised the Hewn City and everyone in it - especially Keir, after the incident with Lady Morrigan - your father approached me about the betrothal shortly after you were born, wanting an agreement to keep the Court of Nightmares from splintering from its future High Lord,"

He had not had to tell her that, even if she had asked. That counted for something, she supposed.

"And feeding your own ambitions was purely coincidence, I'm sure," 

Voren smiled faintly.

"Quite," He leaned forward slightly. "You were clever to ask for a position of power, Rhiannon. As liaison, myself and Lord Keir are forced to take your words into account at least. You obviously included that condition for a reason. What is it you wish to change in the Hewn City?"

That caught her out for a moment. What did she want to change? All she really wanted was to have an important job to do so she wouldn't be bored out of her mind, and to earn a shred of respect here.

"My brother handles the Court of Nightmares badly," She improvised her words there and then, though was sure to sound casual, like she wasn't just sorting out her own thoughts as she spoke. "Ruling by fear may work, but not without any concessions or possibility of reward. Rhysand can come in here, show off his power, terrify everyone in the city and humilate Keir as much as he likes, but acting a tyrant without showing favour to anyone whatsoever is dangerous. Resentment is growing already and he has only been high lord for eight years - it could blow up in his face tomorrow. Even if it does not, the court is still stagnated - if anywhere is in need of change then it's this place,"

Oddly enough, that - pulled out of her arse though it may have been - was the first earnest reply she had given.

"Interesting," The male was looking at her in an assessing light once more, though different from when she had walked through the door. "And how would you, as the High Lord's sister, suggest that these problems get fixed?"

She realised then what she wanted to do.

"Rhysand can still lord over this city as much as he likes. But once I marry you, I will become a member of this court - in appearances, at least. I'll be a route to the High Lord's ear, and a shield from his wrath. Dealing with me will appear a more palatable alternative to dealing with Rhysand, and you yourself will appear a better alternative to Keir," Rhiannon smiled then. "I'll fix the problem by becoming the Lady of Nightmares," She paused. "And you can be steward of the city, I suppose. Which is what you've wanted all along," 

Her betrothed smiled faintly, still calculating. All in all, that encounter had gone rather well.

Her mother glanced at her after they left.

"I'm proud of you," She said. Rhiannon knew her mother was proud of her, but the female did not say it all that often - Aithusa spoke more through actions than words - making this occassion all the more strange. "You handled yourself well. Better than I ever could,"

"You hate intrigue and politics," She scoffed. "I, on the other hand, quite enjoy it,"

"That's obvious enough," Her mother said. "You may have inherited my pride and sharp tongue, but you got Morcant's ambition and liking for games like these,"

"A worrisome combination," She said, making her mother laugh.

"Worrisome indeed,"

*

At least she looked good as a bride, Rhiannon thought, looking in the mirror on the morning of her wedding. Rosina had helped her dress, and done a very good job.

She was aware that she wasn't as devastatingly good-looking as Rhys was. Unlike her brother, there were enough of their mother's rougher Illyrian features in her face to distinguish her from the refined elegence of most high fae, which had earned her some teasing and snickers from the other young girls of the Hewn City when she had been there as a child.

Yet Rhiannon was not ugly by any means, and knew her appearance was unconventional but quite striking. No one had told her to tame her more wild looks today, although it was heavily implied that she should. She hadn't done so. There was a fine line between earning their respect by honouring their customs and trying to fit in, and appearing too weak by letting herself be corralled into becoming something she was not. She would hardly curb her sharp tongue and act the meek little female, so why should her appearance change?

Thus, her hair had been left wild and curly, though styled in a way that her pointed ears were visible. Her wedding gown - black, laced with traces of gold and silver that seemed to flow like liquid - was enticing, something she would choose to wear, yet modest in the right ways; form-fitting in places, loose in others, with a high collar and low but not indecent neckline. Her jewellery was gold and onyx, including the small tiara on her head and the dagger at her belt. 

The one conceession she had made was that her wings were nowhere to be seen. She looked regal, elegant and a fitting bride for the Hewn City. How proud her father would have been.

The wedding was rather subdued due to the palpable resentment eminating from Rhys, Aithusa, Cassian, Azriel and Mor. For her part - as she had warned them all prior to the day - Rhiannon was distancing herself from them all somewhat. She made an effort to talk to be seen speaking with her husband, which was not too difficult as Voren was a surprisingly good conversationalist once the subject turned to something that interested him.

They spoke of politics, of plays and paintings, of advanced magic and abstract theories, and Rhiannon found herself not holding back her sharp words. To others listening in, it may have sounded as though they were arguing, though it was merely an engaging discussion.

Voren wasn't an awful choice of a husband, all things considered. He was ancient, certainly - older than her father would have been had he been alive - but he looked at and spoke to her like he would anyone else of his station, not like a wife. Which she could work with; if he had been a nasty old lecher fawning over her, there would have been no containing her disdain.

Yet alhough his political ideals might be progressive compared to most under this mountain, her new husband was still traditional in every other sense, with the usual male possessiveness. It had been made clear that any embarrassment or disgrace she caused him would be dealt with harshly. Well, he would attempt to deal with it harshly; Voren would hardly be able to lay a hand on her without attracting the vengeance of the most powerful fae in Prythian. What was more important was that if she shamed him, her reputation in the Hewn City would be ruined, and all plans would go up in smoke.

Rhiannon was used to running her mouth as much as she liked and not giving a damn about who she pissed off. It was different now, when there were real consequences. Yet she only restrained herself within reason. A certain level of viciousness was admired in this place, after all. She was cruel and painfully mocking when it pleased her, though she could equally be quite charming.

During the celebration after the wedding ceremony, she did her best to ingratiate herself to important people in the Court of Nightmares. Rhiannon endeared herself to her Uncle Keir - or at least got his attention - with a snide jab at Rhys' expense behind his back (shooting an apologetic thought in her brother's direction). She flattered the vain Lord Thanatos enough to make him preen, and exchanged several dry comments with his weary-looking wife Lady Carwen. She enquired about the gruff, stern-faced Lord Angharad's stories from the war, and had Lord Steffan eating out of her hand with a single dance.

"You're certainly working the room," Rhys sidled up to her, handing her glass of wine. Most gave him a wide berth, looks of fear and resentment cast their way. "I'm quite impressed. Charming the Court of Nightmares is no easy feat,"

"It's the same as you do in Velaris," She grinned at the look on his face. "Everyone likes to be flattered and joked with and asked after, Rhys, even in this court,"

"You have always had a way with words, when you want to," He admitted, then smirked. "You just choose to act like a rude little brat most of the time,"

That was fair enough, she supposed.

Of course, she still faced plenty of adversity and resentment from certain members of the court, who really did hate Rhys. But dealing with barbed comments and poisonous insults was something she excelled at, as well as acting like she did not give a shit, laughing in the faces of many who were rude to her and coming back at them with something equally nasty and vicious. It was a fine line between making friends with enough people, and being able to piss off a few others

Regardless, Rhiannon was glad that her friends from Velaris were all there. Rosina, of course, would be staying here with her afterwards, but Leo and Seralyn had come too. Yet perhaps she may make some more friends here in the Hewn City, some day. Some of the younger fae, around her own age, were not nearly as stuffy and rigid as their older counterparts. The young, wicked-eyed Lord Owain, for one, who she had made howl with laughter at her sly remarks at several others' expense. Bryn, the son of a minor lord, who seemed quiet but whom she had caught sending subtle bursts of power to poke at and annoy many of the Darkbringer guards, to the hilarity of his little brother. Deanna, the daughter of Lord Thanatos, who had scoffed at her father's idiocy and dragged Rhiannon away by the arm. Eleri, who had been speaking to Leo (a lesser fae) and Rosina (a servant) without batting an eye.

Most importantly, none of those four seemed to be trying to suck up to her because she was the High Lord's sister, unlike many of the others, nor were they hostile like a select few. She could still act like she was friends with the bootlickers and sycophants, and openly laugh at those who disliked her, but it would be nice to have a few people around whose company she genuinely enjoyed.

Despite herself, Rhiannon had found she had actually enjoyed her wedding. Working a room like that was rather exhilarating, and most of the Court of Nightmares were not really that bad, if she lowered herself to their level temporarily. Perhaps this whole getting married business would not be so bad after all.

*

A bit of a twist here. It always irritated me in canon how they treated the Court of Nightmares. Yes, the ruling class may be scumbags, but an entire city must have at least a few decent people in it. Mor, for one. They don't even bother trying to improve things. And whilst I enjoyed that scene with Rhys and Feyre as much as anyone else, it really was stupid politically when you think about it; how are these people supposed to respect Feyre as a leader after that?

I also thought it was important that Rhiannon has her own friends outside the inner circle, seeing as she is quite a social person. She is many years younger than all of them, after all, and should have her own life outside her family and her brother's friends. To summarise, her friends from Velaris are Rosina (whose mother works in the Townhouse as staff), Leo (who works in his cousin Rita's bar) and Seralyn (whose family are successful merchants based in Velaris), and her potential new friends from the Hewn City are Owain, Bryn, Deanna and Eleri.

Thanks for reading, please leave a comment to let me know what you think!