daughter of starlight

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𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑹 𝑪𝑰𝑹𝑪𝑳𝑬. @duskdivined /

against the sheer , unrequited beauty that was velaris , it was not the city that stuck the violet eyed girl speechless.      it was the sight of him.      eyes matching her own , albeit carried more of their father’s traits , there was no falsifying who it was that now stood across from her. “   rhys ?!   ”

that’s the question all held at her return. but the thing is , was she truly ever dead ? the short answer is no. asteria , unlike her mother , had not been killed by tamlin’s father. rather , that night at the cabin her wings were stripped from her body in such rage , leaving her helpless and left to bear witness the murder of her mother. unable to help , unable to scream. the last view she was allotted being that of her mother's head rolling free from her body before being blindfolded and kidnapped. the head that rhys and received ? glamoured trickery. the head of an innocent around her age sent to her brothers doorstep alongside her mother's. battered and unrecognizable to its fullest extent as to lead her brother and father to believe she too had been slain. all the while , asteria was taken from the cabin she had grown to love and into the depths of hybern's stronghold.

never allow anger to become you. words a long lost yet eternally wise woman had once spoken into her daughter's ear what felt as if a millenia ago. many phrases and advice the woman had once offered her. knowing the world her daughter was to grow in , the trials and tribulations that would follow her like a waiting asp soley for her title and bering of wings . . . she had never wanted to raise either of her children to be but lambs to slaughter. even more so her sole daughter. memories of times before the hearth , combs brushing through asteria's long onyx strands as stories wove into the fibers , was the reason for the voice in her ear.

the state of the cabin had fueled a deep rooted fire within. the reason she had been dispatched for hours past dinner. fingers numb from scrubbing paint from weather worn walls brushed against the now tattered trousers she had opted for over a gown as she moved through the house of wind. ( pity in the fact asteria had once loved these pants. ) not that she had claimed the house in any sort , it answered to nesta in such a way asteria held naught but respect towards. moonstone had become her haven. but exhausted wings left her little choice as to her pit stop.

lost in her own mind , tallying the tasks still to do to mend their mother's home , it should not have been a surprise to have her path near cut off by nesta herself. “   ohh . . . !   ” gathering herself , asteria pulls herself back into the moment at hand. pulling her body to the side to allow the other to pass. “   apologies. i was only here for a moment then i will be off.   ”

that’s the question all held at her return. but the thing is , was she truly ever dead ? the short answer is no. asteria , unlike her mother , has not been killed by tamlin’s father. rather that night at the cabin her wings were stripped from her body leaving her helpless and left to witness the murder of her mother before being blindfolded and kidnapped. her head that rhys and received ? imposter trickery so to speak. the head of an innocent around her age sent to her brothers doorstep alongside her mothers battered and unrecognizable to lead her brother and the rest to believe she had been slain. while instead asteria was taken from the cabin to hybern. used as a bargaining chip , a hostage , a prisoner of war for the king so , if the day ever came , he would have leverage over the night court. and for years upon years she lived in the dungeons of the castle. unable to fly , unable to do any sort of magic to contact the outside world. how long she was there , she is vastly unsure. when all you are able to see is the darkness only broken by one single candle and the only sounds you heed are chains and stone , time begins to mean little to nothing. at least , until the height of the war two hundred years later.

taken to his war camp , kept hidden away as to keep her existence a secret from the prythian forces , it was there she could see through the cracks the wings of fellow illyrian soldiers. hear the battle against the king clash through the night. and every so often , her brothers name. he was there. he was close. but would he be close enough ? hoping for the best but readying for the worst , she waited. waited for either their reunion or her final moments. as the war waged on , hope for the best dwindled until the moment came. his soldiers falling in defeat. sounds of cheering. had , had he lost ? was it over ?