#rhys father

[deludeddreammer]

Where it all began

How Rhysand's father and mother met: In the story he was 900 years old and his mother 18 years when they met. He’s described as quite a character by everyone, a very cunning and calculative High Lord who didn’t really love Rhys's mother and wasn’t well matched with her despite being mated. I can imagine why, the age gap would have been too big for them to ever find a common ground. He’d lived through many eras while his mother had barely stepped into adult hood so the dynamic between them would’ve been skewed.  This is just my version of how they would have met though. Wanted to write because I felt like it. 

The air was ruthlessly harsh and strong that day. Winds shrieked like banshees across the Illyrian Camps, ripping at the flimsy tents and threatening to splinter the makeshift houses. The frigid air bit through any gaps, a bone-deep cold that promised a harsh day. 

Lryia sat hidden in a corner of her room, trembling as she held up the rag of cloth with blood on it. The dreaded day had finally arrived; she’d bled and her wings; the only freedom and strength she was left with in this life would also be snatched from her. 

Shallow pants wracked her body as she darted her eyes around the room, searching frantically for any place to conceal the cloth and scent. There would be no use though; the moment her father entered the house he’d know immediately and her wings would be clipped. 

A sudden sound from outside jolted her, fear gripping her heart and she shot up, her knuckles white as she clutched the rag. 

Run.

She raced out the door of her small house without thinking. Despite streaks of light breaking through the dawn, training would have already begun in the heart of the campsite and her parents would notice her absence in the family shop if she didn’t immediately leave. The wind lashed her unruly black hair across her face and pierced through the skin visible under her dress as she gasped at the frigid air.  The small cramped white houses lined the narrow alleys barely giving any space for the wings to walk let alone run so she would have to make it to the small patch of open space that would allow her to spread her wings and take flight. 

Ten steps to go. 

“Wait”

A males voice called behind her and she cursed under her breath, shoving a small boy who flapped his wings to maintain his balance. Her scent was too obvious and the space too tiny to go unnoticed. Five more steps. 

She heard the thundering steps as he neared but she jumped into a flight early, knocking her left wing into the red roof of on one of the houses, flapping her wings desperately. 

“Catch her!”

The shout cut through the air as she flew away, quicker than any female could in the camp from the hours she spent without permission flying in the sky. She gritted her teeth as she fought against the strong winds threatening to break her balance and sweep her away into a different direction. 

She cursed her weak form; the exhaustion dripping from her wings so quickly from the lack of nutrition and strength in her frail body. 

The sound of wings forced her to spare a quick glance at the people behind and fear clawed up her heart as she watched two males flying behind her, smiles on their faces. She couldn’t outrun them. No, not Illyrian males born and bred to fight in these conditions. A hopeless sob crept up her throat as she sent all her strength into flapping her wings, trying to harness the wind or drift into one of the mountains. Who could help her now? 

A large hand suddenly gripped her arm as a cry escaped her lips. 

“No!”

Her cry was lost in the sounds of the howling wind as the Males deathly grip dragged her to his body and caged her with his other hand. 

“You stupid girl”, he bit out, his eyes filled with anger and disgust at her helpless fight and he dipped backwards to the camp, dragging her along as if she weighed nothing.

Lyria cried, pleaded and fought; trying to strike and bite wherever she could but he was too strong. 

They landed roughly on camp grounds, amidst the training grounds and Lyria tried to kick his shins to break free. This time another male caught her easily, picking her up and cursing her loudly as a few more surrounded her, looking gleefully at her plight. 

She screamed and jerked to pull her hands free but they dragged her back. Her mind briefly registered they were going to the block where she’d watched other females getting their wings clipped and tears streamed down her eyes. 

“Please”, she begged, “please please please!” 

No one listened.

Only a little spark in her chest refused to clamp down as it raged with anger within her, forcing her to fight every step of the way. This was how her life would be taken from her. She would no longer feel the brush of air against her face and hair, no longer feel the sensation of butterflies in her stomach, the lightness in her chest and never again experience the pure joy and thrill of flying away from the camp; a destitute place where her life would now be set in stone like others. 

Her feet dragged over the steps, the rough cement scratching her skin as they crowded; a mix of wild eyes, teeth and wings surrounding her. 

She screamed and screamed at the unfamiliar hands pulling her hands and pressing against her sensitive wings roughly. 

She squeezed her eyes shut bracing herself for the impending pain, and then suddenly all the pressure on her wings and hands vanished. 

Wet drops of water spattered across her face and dress as she crumbled into the ground, her breath coming in loud pants. She carefully opened her eyes and saw in horror as the cement was now covered with a sheen of red, covering her dress and arms. All the males in the camp stood still, watching her in horrified silence. Her eyes glanced around wildly searching for the source when they landed on the man standing on the corner of the field. Cold, calculative and unyielding.

He was the most beautiful male she’d ever seen; violet eyes on a pale unforgiving face that stared right at her; searing through her soul. Something inside her innately recognized the aura of power rolling off him, stifling the air around as if daring anyone to breath. An unfamiliar sensation crept up her chest; an overwhelming rush of darkness spread her veins; something ancient and powerful seizing her as she watched his eyes narrow before he began striding towards her. 

“Who is she?”, his words, soft yet imperious, rang authoritatively in the air as she watched Devon the camp lord, stumble over his words. 

“She- she’s Denys’s daughter. She bled today”, he glanced at her before looking back at the Male who continued walking towards her without sparing a glance at anyone. “Her wings have to be clipped.”

Some force returned to Devon’s words as the Male stood in front of her, staring at her from his height before extending a hand towards her. 

He looked late in his twenties with a few lines around his eyes but she just knew from his presence that he was ancient, that he had already conquered the world she’d stepped into. Not a single thought permeated through the fog of darkness and fear in her mind as she watched her hand slowly lift to meet his; something inside her recognizing him to be a kindred spirit, calling her to join him. 

Their fingertips brushed and his calloused hands sallowed hers. His gaze, unwavering and intense, held hers as he spoke, clasping her hand and drawing her up to her feet. 

“You’re my mate.”

[emmaziadarcy]

You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne.

[userarmand]

stede giving faildad vibes in s2

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

— father and son: young rhys ifans vs freddie fox.

THE CASTING OF 'HOUSE OF THE DRAGON' IS ALWAYS SO CRAZY AND PERFECT.

[emmaxrosa]

alicent & her children; the challenges of human intimacy

house of the dragon — ryan condal & george r.r. martin / the hedgehog's dilemma — arthur schopenhauer

[saltpepperbeard]

Stede + His Babies

[antaripirate]

maxim maresh, red london father of all time

[queercontrarian]

The Mother, The Father and The Holy Spirit

or sth like that

rhysand, nyx and feyre

serving their court by serving cunt

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

Wonderful message from Rosie to Rhys on Happy Father's Day in Aotearoa and Rhys's responses under her instagram post

[raven-cl]

They got married everyone, clap and cheer !!

[itsthedoodle]

Memory

For @officialrhysandweek 🩵

A drabble for day 6: Pastimes

“Oh, that is a great card. Good job! Can you find the other one?” Rhys said in a soft voice. He and Nyx had taken to playing memory lately and the one year old was quite good at it.

Nyx’s chubby hand reached out, sloppily pointing to a card on the other side of the deck. “Same.”

“That one?” Rhys reached out, pointing to the card. “Why don’t you turn it over so we can see?”

Nyx shook his head and looked at him with pleading big blue eyes so similar to his.

“You don’t want to play anymore?” Rhys asked, confusion lacing his voice. He was generally very good at understanding his toddler’s version of the common language, but there were often times when he wondered what he wanted. When Nyx had been a baby, Rhys hadn’t been above taking a look at his mind whenever he cried inconsolably, just so they could at least know how to help him. But as he had grown older, Rhys had avoided taking a look as to preserve the child’s privacy.

Nyx shook his head again. “Papa, Nyx.”

Understanding dawned on Rhys. “You want us to turn the figure together?”

Nyx nodded, smiling. “Togefer.”

Moments like these were his favorite—moments of not doing anything significant and everything that mattered at the same time. Spending time with his son, making him feel all the overwhelming love he had for his little boy, making sure he knew he was loved and treasured every second of every day.

“Papa?” Nyx looked up at him questioningly.

Rhys realized with a start that he hadn’t moved to turn the card, his son’s big blue eyes peering up at him questioningly. At over five hundred years old, Rhys could proudly say he had accomplished many things, but being this little boy’s father would always be the greatest one. His heart grew ten times its size in the presence of Nyx, and Rhys smiled as he bent down and kissed the top of his head. “Together. Always.”

[thepettymachine]

Ashley goes into labor and Harley meets her at the hospital

Meet Rhys Day

Hopeless Romantic || Easily Impressed

[bangtanjjks]

I was going through my old diary and found some entries I write after I finished acosf and honestly. 21 years old me was onto something.

"the only way Sarah can redeem Rhys (MY BELOVED ASSHOLE. MY TALL DARK HANDSOME VILLAIN FORCED BY THE NARRATIVE TO BE SEEN AS A GOOD GUY) is if by the end of acotar series, on the last book, she just shown Rhys broke down on the floor completely sick beyond belief when he realized that he's turning into his father. And have been for awhile. And later we found out that it's just the curse of The High Lord of Night. That any night HL that keep the position beyond a certain century would slowly got cursed to fear power. The more powerful they are, the stronger the fear is. That's why they crave to control powers. To never live in peace ever again because they saw everything as a threat to their court, getting more and more extreme in their attempt to control other's power by the years. Going insane slowly but surely. And the stronger the HL is, the worse the curse is. Because power always comes with a price. And Rhys is getting his due, he's becoming his father."

LOOK AT THAT. I FIX HIM!!!!! Seriously tho, I was so disillusioned by Rhys' character after ACOSF. That was one of the worst heartbreak/betrayals I've ever felt from a book.

[shadowqueenjude]

Do you guys ever have an idea that’s so obviously canon to you based on what has been written that you forget that it’s not technically explicitly canon?

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

2.01 — 2.03 like father, like son.

[litnerdwrites]

Okay, but who owes who, really?

The Ic love to talk about how 'ungrateful' Nesta is and how they do so much for her, and how spending 500 gold marks is so terrible. But Feyre admits herself, it isn't the money that's the issue, it's what Nesta spent it on; Booze and food.

However, the IC are buying whole estates and drinking each other under the table at Rita's almost every night. So it's safe to infer that 500 gold marks isn't that much when compared to what the rest of the IC spend. If I remember ACOFAS right, they all have a communal fun money account too, which Nesta should be given access to, if she was a member of his court since the war ended. Especially since attending those events the IC make her attend, count as court work (as I'll explain later).

For now, I've decided to list everything I can think of that Rhysand owes Nesta.

We can start with paying her rent for the use of her property to facilitate the meeting. (Not letting them die or suffer emotional/physical damages from it should be given).

Paying her for organising and supplying anything needed for the meetings to happen (so like event organisation) since the Ic pretty much just showed up.

Payment for the trips she took to mail the letters.

Paying for the servants to leave during the day Feyre arrived, and during the meetings. This includes tasks the servants would've normally done during those days but didn't because they needed to be out.

Then there's restitution for bodily harm, and emotional damages from being kidnapped (To both Nesta, and Elain)

Payment for new accommodations, including food, clothes and other necessities.

We can also add on restitution for any property damages inflicted when Hybern broke in.

Restitution for emotional damages for when she was attacked in the library.

Payment for her services in training with Amren plus trying to fix the wall.

Payment for her work at the HL meeting, plus a bonus for the emotional tole it took on her.

Payment for her scrying.

Payment for the works she did around the war camp, like fetching buckets and wrapping wounds and stuff (since I bet every other soldier, nurse, healer, or whoever, was paid in one way or another).

Payment for being willing to cross the battlefield with Amren and Feyre, and Elain, putting their lives on the line to reach the cauldron.

Payment for saving Cassian from the cauldron.

Payment for being willing to go as bait to lure out the king.

A reward for actually killing the kind.

Reparations for their fathers' death.

Payment for each scrying session in ACOSF.

Payment for going to The Middle.

Reparations for emotional damages caused by the Kelpi when she went to find the mask.

A reward for actually getting the mask.

Payment for going to the prison.

Reparations for emotional damages in the prison.

A reward for finding the mask.

Payment for taking her made swords, unless the wanna return those.

Payment for every single meeting she attends with Eris, be it in Spring, The Middle, or wherever.

Reparations for being thrown into the blood right, for all three of them, (since the ones who kidnapped them where Rhysand's own soldiers, and given that they're camp lords, we can assume they have decent ranks)

A reward for killing Bryallin (even though it was literally the IC job, since they promised to do that in exchange for her training to fix the wall and find magic items.

Payment for the dancing in Hewn city.

Payment for every dancing lesson she spends her time doing with Morrigan.

Emotional damages for the verbal abuse she gets from each member of the IC.

Payment for her work in the library

Payment for her training (since both that and the library were forced onto her).

Reparations for evicting and demolishing her apartment.

Reparations for the emotional damages inflicted by the Illyrians who stare and gawk at her the whole time, and insult her behind her back and too her face.

Her father's inheritance (If he didn't leave a will, then it's divided up by inheritance law, which Emerie mentions, includes females now, in the NC. We can also assume, based on her interactions with her cousin, that his side of the family got very little after her father's death. So, we can assume his fortune, business contracts, properties, including ships and things would go to Nesta. A majority of it would, anyway.)

Oh, and payment for every party she attends. And I mean more than just rent. Since Amren wants to use the argument that Nesta is part of the court, then every party she attends, from the bridge party, to starfall, to solstice, is considered a work trip, and she needs to be paid in full. For each one.)

Plus, emotional damages caused by the fire, the insults from their court, and the fact that she was on a boat, over water, despite her trauma.

Moreover, we learn in ACOMAF that Rhys doesn't lowball what he pays his court or those who work for him. Meaning that it's reasonable to expect the amount he pays to be from the higher end of the threshold. So, depending of if Rhysand pays from the mid to high end of the threshold, the total amount he owes Nesta would be pretty close to or even well over the millions.

The 500 gold marks that Feyre was so upset about was a first for Nesta, so even if we add that to Nesta's expenditures over the past year, and subtract that from what she's owed, she'd still have a lot of money. Maybe it would still be in the millions too.

That said, this is all just speculation, since we don't know the irl value of a gold mark, or the exact expenses Nesta incurred during that one year. We also don't know for sure exactly how much Rhysand pays his court or his soldiers.