#alpha!mor

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

“I love you, Nanna. I’ll never forget you, and all that you taught me. I will miss you so, so much. I’ll see you in the next life, but you go have fun for now. Go make all the pastries that you ever dreamed up, bake and make people happy, just like you did here, Nanna. I love you,” you whispered as your grandmother’s chest stopped moving, her soul leaving with her last exhale. Tears streamed down your face as you kissed her hand one last time.

“Y/N, we need to move her,” Viviane said softly from behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder while avoiding your wing.

“I know,” you sighed, squeezing your Nanna’s hand one last time before standing. She led you out of the room and out of the infirmary altogether, taking you from the place where you had spent months tending to your grandmother as she slowly died, a curse that was spilling through her veins for so many years.

“Have you packed everything yet?” Viviane asked you as the two of you walked back to your quarters near the kitchens.

“Everything besides what I use daily, but it shouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes. Are you still willing to winnow me?”

“Of course, Y/N. I wouldn’t have anyone else do it, not after all you’ve done for us,” Viviane reassured you with smile. The two of you were already at your room, and Viviane stood in the doorway as you packed up the rest of your things. “You know you could go to one of the villages nearby, or even have your own shop in the market here. You don’t have to move out of the court…”

You sighed. The two of you have had this conversation multiple times, the outcome always the same: you’re still leaving. “I know, Viviane. And I would stay, if… if everything wouldn’t remind me of her. She’s been my only family for the majority of my life, the reason I lived here, knew you in the first place. I can’t… I can’t see her ghost around every corner, right now.”

“Well… If you ever want to come back, you know we’ll be happy to have you, no matter what. And don’t even think about trying to repay us, I will have Kallias send the gold straight back to you if you do,” Viviane said as she watched you. “And you promise to write to us and let us know when you’re ready for us to visit, yes? Your shop does not even need to be open for us to visit, your company is worth the travel.”

“Yes, Viviane, as soon as I feel settled I’ll write you for a visit.” You had finished packing, your belongings fitting in two leather travel bags. All of your life you had rebuilt in the past six years was now contained to such a tiny space.

You took one last, longing glance around the room that had been your home for the past six years, and the first twenty five of your life as well. So many memories, most of them happy and including your grandmother. Loosing a sigh, you finally turn to Viviane and pick your bags up.

“I’m ready.”

Viviane came to your side and grabbed your arm, and then the two of you were slipping through the fabric of the world, making a few quick stops between the Winter Court and your destination. Your new home.

Velaris, the City of Starlight.

In the five years since the victory against Hybern, the city had been opened to visitors and, in select cases, new citizens. You were lucky enough that Viviane is friends with Morrigan, and that you were employed by and friends with Viviane. She was able to secure you the right to move to the city, and a business license that was cleared pending an interview with Morrigan on your arrival. In less than a minute, the two of you were outside of a cozy looking townhouse, set on a busy residential street and near the river that split the city in two. There was a thin layer of snow covering the ground, and the city looked like a winter wonderland.

Viviane raised her hand to knock, but before she could the door had swung open, revealing a gorgeous blonde woman in a red dress and high heels with a wickedly sharp heel that would most likely cause you to topple over. Her scent, cinnamon and a sweet citrus, was calming, and very clearly alpha.

“Viviane! I’m so glad you could make it!” The blonde, Morrigan you assume, embraces your friend tightly for a few seconds before letting her go and turning to you. “And you must be Y/N! Welcome the Velaris, I do hope the city ends up being what you’re looking for.” Her tone was sweet and excited, and her chocolate brown eyes held such warmth that you couldn’t help but trust her.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Morrigan. Viviane has told me so much about you,” you say as you take her hand in yours for a handshake.

“Oh, call me Mor dear, Morrigan makes me feel like I’m being scolded! Now, come in, we’ll get that pesky little interview out of the way and then we can go take a little tour of the city, maybe find you a place for your bakery.”

The two of you follow her inside, and you’re struck by how… cozy and homey the house was. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, what with your opinions on the Night Court having shifted drastically in the past few years, but this was definitely one of the best outcomes.

Hopefully you would be able to find a space to create as your own, make it feel just as if not more welcoming than this house.

“Sit, sit,” Mor says as she leads the two of you into a sitting room, taking your bags and setting them on the floor next to a couch, before taking a seat on the chair opposite it. Viviane sits on the plush couch, and you follow suit, the lower back of the couch perfect for your wings to rest over. “So Viviane tells me you want to start a business here in Velaris?”

You nod your head in confirmation. “Yes, I would like to open a bakery, if there is availability for a new one in the city.”

Mor smiles, and it’s warm, like sunshine. “I’m sure we can find a suitable place not too close to another bakery or café. Viviane has told me you have experience in the baking field?”

You swallow, a lump suddenly in your throat. You’d known this would come up, it was inevitable, after all. “Yes. I was the head baker Under the Mountain for thirty years, after my grandmother had irritated Amarantha one too many times. I was her pastry sous chef assistant for the twenty years before that as well, and I started baking at six years old.”

“And how old are you now?” Mor asked.

“I am 81, currently,” you answered quickly. “I hope that isn’t an issue?”

“Oh, no, no,” Mor shook her head. “I am sorry to hear that you were forced to work for Amarantha for so much of your life. I do hope that you find working in Velaris to be much more fulfilling, and nicer.”

“I- Are you offering me a business license? Just like that?” You asked incredulously.

“Yes, I am Y/N. Kallias and Viviane have both vouched for you, they believe that you are more than capable of running your own business. And they’ve told me that you take care of the baked goods for all of the High Lord’s household. I trust that you will be successful, based on their testimony alone. Hearing that you worked Under the Mountain, though…” Mor paused. “Knowing that, as well, you will be a fine business owner.”

An invisible weight was lifted off of your shoulders. You are a resident and future business owner of Velaris now. “Thank you, Mor. This opportunity means so much time,” you say gratefully.

“It’s no problem, Y/N. Now, would you like a tour of Velaris and to see where you’ll be staying for the moment?” Mor asked as she stood from her chair.

You followed suit, smoothing the skirt of your dress as you did. “That would be lovely, Mor. Viviane, are you able to join us?”

“No, I should be getting back to Kallias soon, we still have a few winter parties to finish planning and he prefers to have my input,” Viviane replied, following you and Mor out of the townhouse. She stepped toward you for one last hug, holding you tightly in her arms until you pull away. “If you need anything, Y/N, write to me.”

“I will, Viviane. Thank you, for everything.” Tears pricked your eyes, even though you know you’ll see your friend again, likely in the next couple of months. “I’ll write to you even if I don’t need anything, too, keep you updated on my life here, Viv.”

She lets go of your arms, stepping back slightly. “You’d better, Y/N. I want to know all the juicy details, especially if you find an alpha,” Viviane said teasingly. The other omega knew how badly you craved to have an alpha, a love strong enough to tie you together and eventually have a family with them. The sex of the alpha doesn’t matter to you, just that it’s someone who understands you, and values you despite your submissive personality and ‘lesser fae’ status, someone that you love equally.

“I’ll make sure to keep you informed on that front as well, Viv,” Mor chuckled, and you threw a playful glare in her direction. “What? I figure you might like to have a friend here, and I have to warn you, I’m a bit of a gossip.”

Viviane laughed, “‘A bit’ is an understatement, Mor. Take good care of my girl, okay?” Mor nodded, giving Viviane a hug as well before the silver haired female winnowed away.

“We’ll leave you bags in the townhouse for now, I’ll come back and get them later for you once you’re settled in your hotel,” Mor says, taking you by the arm and walking away from the townhouse, leaving you no choice but to follow. She took you first to the Palace of Bone and Salt, a commercial area dedicated to fresh and dried meats, spices, baking goods, along with any cookery and bakeware you could ever need.

There were a few shops already that you were dying to go in to, you’d never had much of a chance to pick out your own pieces of bakeware, let alone enough to stock a bakery. There were so many different options that you wanted to explore, but you knew you could wait to lose yourself in the possibilities until you were alone. Next Mor showed you a few shops, ones for clothing items, bedding, shoes. A bar named Rita’s, which she promises to take you to after you’ve settled. Then her favorite restaurant, a small, cozy placed named after its owner and chef, Sevenda. The heavenly smells coming from the windows were enough to convince you to return for takeout later tonight, even without Mor’s enthusiastic recommendation.

And then you were in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. A section of town dedicated entirely to fabrics in every shade of every color imaginable, huge tables covered in glittering gems, an amount of wealth you had never seen displayed so casually before. People were milling about, and you tucked your wings as close to your back as you could manage, not wanting strangers to brush against them any more than necessary.

There were a few shops dedicated solely to custom gowns, their displays filled with gorgeous dresses decorated with intricate embroidery and small gemstones that shined like the stars. You had never before considered wearing such fine clothing, but now you wanted to feel the slip of the fabric over your body, experience how it feels to be dressed like a princess.

Someday. Someday I will save enough money, and buy a beautiful gown, all by myself, you promised yourself as you let Mor lead you across a bridge on the Sidra to the next Palace.

This one was the Palace of Flame and Steel, a district reserved for weaponry, armor, building materials and tools, as well as a few competing construction guilds. Mor guided you to one of them, apparently the one that the High Lord and Lady had trusted to build their new home next to the Sidra.

“Ah, Marcus, I would like for you to meet Y/N,” Mor said, and Marcus extended his hand to you. His scent was soft, pine trees and fallen snow- an alpha. You take it, noticing his strong but gentle grip. Your shoulders relax slightly, wings spreading slightly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Marcus said in a friendly voice.

“The same to you, Marcus,” you reply, a slight dusting of pink on your cheeks. He is rather handsome, for a High Fae.

“She will more than likely be needing your services, Marcus. Y/N here is planning to open a bakery somewhere in town in the next couple of months,” Mor informed him with a bright smile, one that he flashed back at her, and then turns it toward you. Your breath catches slightly in your throat, and you instinctively smile back at him.

“That sounds nice, I always enjoy a new place to eat at,” He said, still grinning at you.

“Well, once I’m up and running you’ll be more than welcome to drop in whenever you want.”

“I’ll look forward to that day, Y/N. Come back once you know where you’d like to build or renovate, and we can draw up some plans together, okay?”

You nod your head in agreement. “I’ll make sure to do that, Marcus. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you Marcus,” Mor said as she led you out of the shop and back towards the Sidra. Once you were a few buildings down, she asked, “So, do you think he’s cute?”

Your face flushed, and you managed to push out an “I suppose…”

“He’s pretty niiice,” Mor sings, still tugging you along the road next to the Sidra. “And he doesn’t have an omega.”

You shake your head at Mor. “I know Viviane mentioned me finding an alpha, but that’s not really my goal at the moment Mor. And I can also find my own alphas,” You say lightly, tugging on her arm as you did. “Also, you move fast, already trying to set me up.” Mor laughed at that, and you giggle a bit as well as the two of you continue walking, passing cute houses and apartments as you do.

“Well, you’re possibly the cutest single omega in the city at the moment, and Marcus truly is a kind male. And you needed to meet him anyways, for any building needs related to your bakery.” Mor stopped in her tracks, holding you in place by your arm. “This, is the Rainbow,” Mor announces to you.

You gaze around, taking in the colorful buildings that housed everything from painting studios to dance halls. You spied quite a few art supply stores and pottery shops as well, everything so beautiful that your eyes couldn’t choose just one place to land.

Mor draws you further in to the artistic section of town, walking more slowly than any other area you’d gone through today, and you had your wings tucked in tight behind you to avoid brushing against the other fae. Your eyes catch finally on a beautiful painting, one of a cosmic green light fall in the night sky, and you stop moving, taking in every brush stroke on the canvas as quickly as you could. It took your breath away, it was such a magnificent rending of something you could only wish to witness.

“Ah, that is the High Lady’s rendition of Starfall this year,” Mor tells you once she saw where your eyes had locked onto. “Feyre is a magnificent artist, she even hosts classes whenever she has the time, if you’re interested.”

You tear your eyes from the painting to look at Mor. “Oh, I don’t think I’d be any good, really. The most my artistic skills stretch beyond baking is for sketches of my baking,” you laughed, turning to continue your tour once more. “And I’d like to get the bakery up and running before I do many extracurriculars.”

“That makes sense, I suppose, but it’s a good thing to keep in mind. Feyre lets me sneak wine in, so even if my painting turns out terrible, I still have a great time.” The two of you were near the end of the colorful street when you spotted it.

The perfect location, right next to the river and on the edge of the Rainbow was a small one story building, a for sale sign in the window. The building looked decrepit, nearly ready to fall down in your opinion.

You pulled Mor in the direction of it, and let go of her arm to walk around the back of the building.

The view was absolutely lovely, the noise of the river soothing to your ears. You stretched out your wings as you closed your eyes and just listened for a moment, ignoring the noise of the people behind you. Snow was covering the open space behind the building, mostly untouched compared to the streets you had been walking on with Mor.

“Would I be able to buy this lot?” You asked Mor as you spun to face her. “This feels like the perfect place- and there aren’t any other cafés in the Rainbow, as far as I could tell.”

“Of course, Y/N. This building just went up for sale, as well, the previous owner retired a couple of weeks ago.”

You smile at Mor, your eyes sparkling brightly. “Just my luck, then. Do you know about how long it would be for the sale to go through?”

“It should take no more than a few days, Auric seemed very ready to get rid of the place. I’ll set up a meeting for the two of you later today, and if it’s not too late I’ll swing by your room and let you know when it will be. But for now, let’s finish out the tour, then I’ll take you to your hotel,” Mor suggested, holding out an arm.

You grab it once more, allowing her to take you to the last Palace in the city- the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, dedicated to more meats, as well fish, fruits, and vegetables. There were stalls with vendors cooking street food, bowls of noodles and burritos that all smelled delicious- you would definitely be coming back here to try something from each and every fae.

While you were well acquainted with nearly every type of baked good and dessert, different styles of cooking were something you hadn’t been exposed to very often before being trapped Under the Mountain. And while there, you were lucky to get anything besides the imperfect bread you would make.

And after all those years, you had just wanted to taste something familiar, so you stuck with the Winter Court fare you had as a child for the past six years.

But now, smelling everything here and Sevenda’s restaurant? You wanted nothing more than to taste every type of food that you could. Perhaps you would even think of new pastries in the process.

Soon enough, the two of you were back at the townhouse you had arrived in front of with Viviane. Mor popped inside quickly, returning with your bags. She passed one to you as she said “Now that you’ve seen the main parts of Velaris, it’s time to get you to your hotel room so you can relax a bit, settle in some.”

You both crossed the Sidra again, right as snow began to fall. You looked around, taking in the sight of glistening snow, your favorite weather in the world, falling onto the beautiful city that you could now call your own.

“It’s beautiful,” you blurted out without thinking. “Does Velaris suit every season so well?”

Mor looked at you from the corner of her eye, also taking in the scenery. “Yes, it does. I have found every city I’ve visited in Prythian to be beautiful in its own right, but Velaris seems to capture the beauty of every season the best. Of course, I am terribly biased, being from the Night Court and all,” Mor laughed.

She stopped in front of a large building, several floors tall with two balconies on each facing the Sidra. Mor opened the ornately carved wooden door, the words The Sidra Inn engraved on it, revealing a warmly decorated lobby. Behind the reception desk was a slim, bark skinned fae.

“Hello, Mor, it’s good to see you,” the female- a beta- said, extending a hand, which Mor shook readily. Then her eyes turned to you. “And you must be Y/N, our newest resident.” You nod your head in confirmation. “My name is Druana, I’m the owner of this quaint little inn.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Druana.” You take her hand as well, fascinated by the texture of her bark skin. “From what I’ve seen so far, your inn feels like home. It’s very warm, inviting.”

The fae smiles at you. “Thank you, Y/N. If you’re ready, I’ll show you to your room.” You look to Mor, who hands you your second bag.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours, Y/N. And if I don’t come by then, I’ll send a letter telling you what time I’ve arranged for you to meet with Auric. Do you want me to bring anything for you when I do come? Any food, clothing, nesting materials?”

Heat creeps up your neck at the last idea. “No, Mor, thank you though. I should be fine, for now. I’ll see you in a bit,” you said, parting ways with the friendly blonde.

Druana led you up a set of stairs and in front of a room on the second floor. She handed you a set of keys, then walked back the way you had come.

You turned the key in the lock, and opened the door to your new home for the foreseeable future. It was spacious, containing a large bed set against the left wall, a dresser, wardrobe, a circular table with two chairs on opposite sides, and your own personal bathroom and kitchenette. It was all decorated in cozy fall colors, reds and oranges and browns everywhere, and a fireplace against the right wall. Opposite the door was a set of double doors, likely leading out to one of the balconies you had seen from the street. You dropped your bags on the floor next to the bed, and went to look at the bathroom, it’s door next to the fireplace.

It was lovely, a deep tub that you knew would fill enough so that you could sink entirely beneath the water. There was also a large counter with two sinks, a large mirror hung above it on the wall. And of course, a toilet that looked suitable enough.

You returned to the bedroom, walking over to the set of doors and pushing them open.

On the street, you hadn’t been able to see the padded rocking chair and small table, but now that you had, you knew you would be reading in it, protected from most of the snow by the small roof covering the patio.

You went back inside, grabbing a romance novel that you had picked up a couple of months ago, but had never gotten around to reading. You also pulled a blanket from the bed.

Being from the Winter Court had given you a mild immunity to freezing weather, it was much more comfortable to sit covered in a blanket.

Before you went back on the balcony, your eyes snagged on the kitchenette- already laying out were a few boxes of tea. You placed the book and blanket on the bed and walked over to the counter.

You looked through the flavors before deciding on a basic green tea. In a few minutes you had brewed a large mug for yourself, and took it and your book and blanket onto the balcony.

You snuggled down into the chair, careful to position your wings so they weren’t squished or pinched anywhere. The blanket came next, and you wrapped it around your legs and dress as much as you could, then over your right arm.

With your left, you spread the book open, happily diving in to the story about childhood friends slowly growing to love each other romantically.

Friendship before love- that could be nice, you thought to yourself as you read, sipping your tea and looking out over the beautiful view of Velaris in front of you.

And now, most likely, you would be able to meet people who didn’t already know you as the tortured omega baker slaving away for Amarantha to keep her grandmother and Court as safe as possible.

Now, people would know you as the omega baker from the Winter Court, hopefully with a cozy bakery and the best pastries that they’ve ever had.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

Feyre’s bath was heavenly. The view was perfect, the temperature of the water was just right, and Nuala had brought in a tray holding a lovely teapot filled with a lovely jasmine tea, which she was tempted to ask for a container of to take home to Spring, as well as a few different kinds of cookies.

She stayed in the bath until the tea was gone and the sweets were eaten. Her skin was pruney, but she didn’t mind. She dried herself off and tied her hair up in a towel, walked over to the wardrobe and swung the doors open. The inside held an assortment of clothing, matching sets of tops and bottoms, all of which were cut in a comfortable but attractive looking fashion. There were also a few silk dresses, nightgowns, dressing gowns, thick leggings, and buttery soft looking knit sweaters. There were a few different pairs of satin slippers on the floor of the wardrobe, all varying in color that matched the sets of clothing. Feyre pulled out one of the nightgowns, a midnight blue with silver stars embroidered at the hems, and slipped it over her head, amazed at how well it fit her body.

Although, maybe she shouldn’t be seeing as Rhys had chosen clothing… well, scraps of cloth, for her before, and her body truly hadn’t changed much in the past year.

Shaking her head, she grabbed a matching, sheer dressing gown, then padded over to the bed and bent down slightly, touching the indigo comforter, and instantly sinking down onto the bed. The blanket was possibly one of the softest fabrics she had ever touched. Tossing the dressing gown on the end of the bed, she pulled back the covers and slipped underneath, deciding that she was worn out enough from the day events to take a nap before dinner.

The pillows were just the right marriage between firm and fluffy, Feyre couldn’t help but loose a sigh as she pulled the blanket up over her chin. The pillowcases were violet in color, and she wondered if Rhysand had a hand in decorating her room. With the shade of his eyes all over the room, she thought it was highly likely. If he did have a part in it, well, he did a good job. Especially with the bed, not forgetting the fabrics waiting to billow down and create a beautiful canopy.

After a few minutes of laying in a haven of comfort, Feyre slipped into a deep sleep as her body gave in to the emotional exhaustion from the day.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

It was a few hours later that she was awoken by a soft knock and the door swinging open, Cerridwen holding a tray with a few dishes stacked on top.

Feyre sat up in the bed, wiping the sleep out of her eyes when the smell hit her- something was absolutely mouthwatering, and her stomach rumbled. It was then that she realized she hadn’t eaten all day aside from the cookies earlier, having been too nervous to eat before the ceremony, and, well…

“That smells wonderful,” she remarked as Cerridwen crossed the room and placed the tray on the table. “What is it?”

“There’s a bowl of beef stew, a few slices of bread, and a slice of cake. Oh, and a couple of different drinks that I thought you might like.” Feyre grabbed the dressing gown and slipped it on, walking over to the table and smiled at the shadow wraith.

“Thank you for the food, Cerridwen.”

“It’s no problem, Feyre. Thank you for everything that you have done. It means a lot to all of us to be back home,” she said with gratitude in her eyes, and Feyre blushed lightly. “Especially… especially for the High Lord.” Cerridwen shook her head, clearing her thoughts, then made for the door. “Enjoy your dinner, Feyre.”

Feyre watched the door close, then turned back to the tray of food. The stew looked as delicious as it smelled, thick with chunks of beef, onion, carrots, potatoes, and two other root vegetables. Feyre was guessing they were native to the Night Court, as she’d never seen anything similar to them back in Spring. One of them was blue inside, with varying rings of varying color spreading outward and the skin removed; the other was a solid dark brown with a black skin.

She sat down and immediately picked up the spoon, taking a bite of the stew. Flavor exploded in her mouth as the spicy, earthy flavor overtook her tastebuds. Quickly, she spooned another bite into her mouth, and sighed after swallowing. It was absolute perfection, so rich and comforting.

Feyre picked up a slice of bread going to tear a piece off and butter it separately, as she had been drilled into doing over the past year back home. But…

Ianthe isn’t here right now.

No one is here to see her butter the whole slice of bread and dip it into the stew, taking the biggest bite that she possibly could.

No one is here to see that she finishes stew and bread within 15 minutes, an entirely unladylike act back home for the size of the bowl.

The cake was a nutty flavor- pistachio, if she was correct- with a vanilla buttercream, and absolutely delightful. Feyre was only able to finish half of the slice, her stomach feeling on the edge of bursting.

Stuffed as she was, she looked towards the three cups on the tray. One of them was water, which she took a small sip of. The next was a bubbly apple juice, light and sweet on her tongue, similar to the sparkling fairy wine they had at holidays. The last was a warm and creamy chocolate drink, staying warm in its enchanted mug, adding to the contentment building in her chest.

Even if the day had been bad, nowhere near the outcome she was hoping for, she had just eaten a delicious dinner with a gorgeous view.

She climbed back into her bed a few minutes later, watching the sun set over the mountains as she lay facing the open wall, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

🩵💜🩵

A knock sounded on her door, waking Feyre from her peaceful slumber. “Darling, breakfast will be ready in a half an hour,” Rhysand drawled through the door before she heard his footsteps receding down the hall.

She sighed and threw the covers off of herself, stretching her body taut before getting up and heading over to the bathroom.

She slipped her nightgown off over her head, tossing it on the large counter on the far end of the bathroom, and her hair up in a bun with a tie she found in drawer in the counter, then sank into the warm water of the bathtub. She reveled in the beauty of the morning light shining on the land before her for a few minutes. She washed herself quickly, not wanting to linger too long and risk Rhysand or someone else possibly stumbling in on her in the bath to hurry her along to breakfast.

Feyre toweled her body off and went to the vanity, rummaging through the drawers until she found a brush and smoothed out her hair, wild from sleep. Then she moved over to the wardrobe and picked out a pair of black leggings, and a dark blue knit sweater so soft she wanted a blanket made out of it. She picked out a pair of black flats, slipping them on and walking to the door, steeling herself for whatever is to come during this meal.

She exited her room and headed down the hallway she believed to lead to the table she’d seen in the room they’d first arrived in yesterday.

Hopefully, today would be the same as yesterday, with Rhysand being a tolerable level of flirtatious and pushy. She wasn’t sure she would survive the week if he turned back into the major ass he had been Under the Mountain.

The smell of eggs, bacon and fruit grew as she drew closer, and then she was back in the grand hallway, staring at the gorgeous blonde woman in a sleek black dress seated next to Rhysand. They both turned to look at her, and the blonde squealed, got up, and ran over to Feyre. The moment her scent, citrus and cinnamon and entirely alpha, hit Feyre’s nose, anxiety began to build in her gut. The only other female alpha she knew was Ianthe, and she had nothing but veiled disdain for Feyre in the year that she’d known her.

She stopped right before her, and held out her hands. “It is so lovely to finally meet you, Feyre. My cousin has talked quite a lot about you in the past year, and I’m glad this day has finally come!” The woman grabbed Feyre’s hands, encompassing them with her own. “My name is Mor, I’ll be joining you for breakfast if you’re alright with that!”

Feyre’s first impression of Mor is that of sunshine in a bottle, always ready to be opened and spread joy on those around her, and the building dread within her dissipated. A nice female alpha. She looked a sigh of relief, and squeezed her hands lightly. “That sounds lovely, Mor. It’s nice to meet you too.” The blonde smiled widely at her, and dragged her over to the table where Rhysand was still seated, and a nice selection of food was waiting to be eaten.

“Good morning, Feyre,” he said with a smile, and Feyre almost sighed again. It seemed like today was going to be a nice day, if the attitude these two were giving off was genuine. Then his scent washed over her, the blissful combination of citrus and sea, so perfectly alpha.

It may be more trying than she thought, through no true fault of his own.

“Good morning, Rhysand,” she replied, the corners of her mouth tilted up. Feyre started dishing out food for herself starting with the eggs, and motioned to put some on Mor’s plate as well.

“Yes, please, Feyre,” she said, pushing her plate closer to the dish. Feyre scooped eggs onto her plate, then moved to Rhysand’s. “Thank you, Feyre.”

“I’ll dish my own up, darling, but thank you,” he said with a slight smirk, grabbing the spatula from her and putting eggs on his plate.

Feyre fought a frown, unsure why he wouldn’t let her serve him, but mentally shook it off. Probably something to do with being magically bound to a psychopath through a drink served to him, so none of Feyre’s business.

She grabbed a pair of tongs and grabbed a few slices of bacon for herself and Mor, then passing them off to Rhysand again. The same cycle continued for the large bowl of fruit that Feyre was most excited to have, made of chunks of apple, melon, and a few varieties of berries, some of which she hadn’t seen in Spring.

Mor busied herself with pouring glasses of water for the three of them, and once they had their food, the three of them tucked in.

After a couple of minutes, Mor broke the silence. “So, Feyre, what’s your favorite color?”

Feyre choked on her food slightly, not expecting the question at all and threw a questioning look at Mor.

“What?” Mor asked, laughing breezily. “If you’re to be here every month, I’d like to know some things about you! Sooo, your favorite color?” She repeated enthusiastically.

Feyre thought for a moment, not having ever truly thought of what her favorite might be. She had loved all colors equally her entire life. Well, up until a year ago that is. But after a second, thinking back on the painting on her drawer of the dresser… “Probably a dark, midnight blue. What about you?”

“Definitely red, it’s the color of love and passion, so I’ve always been drawn to it. And I happen to look amazing in it.”

Feyre was just happy she hadn’t worn any red today, not wanting to deal with the color any more than she had to. “Now that, I’m sure of, Mor. Though I’m sure you could pull off any color if you tried.” Feyre turned her head to Rhys, asking “Which is your favorite, Rhysand?"

He lifted a hand to his heart, a pained expression on his face. “Feyre, still calling me Rhysand? You know only my enemies call me that, darling. We may not be friends, but I wouldn’t consider us enemies at this point in time.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Fine, what’s your favorite color, Rhys?”

A smile spread across his face, and he answered “Midnight blue as well, funny coincidence darling.” He winked at her, then continued “The color of the night sky is something I’ll never stop loving. There’s just something so entrancing about it.”

It was Mor’s turn to roll her eyes, “Of course that’s your favorite, you’re the High Lord of the Night Court, cousin.”

“That may be, but the color is magnificent either way, Mor.”

Feyre couldn’t help but smile, watching the two interact as she took a few more bites of her food. It was nice to see Rhysand’s friendly side come out, playful but not flirtatious or masking danger.

“Feyre, do you have any hobbies?” Mor asked, drawing her back into the room.

“Oh, umm…” Feyre paused, unsure of how to answer. “I liked to paint, but I haven’t in a while. Recently I’ve taken to reading. Beyond that, I haven’t found much that interests me.”

Mor frowned for a moment, then slid a smile back on her face. “Well, we can change that if you’d like! If you need anything, you can ask either of us or the twins for it, and- oh, do you like shopping?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Feyre said “I don’t really know, I didn’t have the money to shop for anything nice before… as a human, and since then all of my things have been provided for me without me asking.”

“Well, then, if you’d like I could bring you some catalogs from my favorite stores! That way I’d have an excuse to go get something for myself when you wanted something,” Mor added with a wink.

“As though you need an excuse to go shopping Mor,” Rhysand said playfully.

“Oh, like you don’t enjoy shopping for home décor,” She countered in a teasing tone, and Rhys narrowed his eyes at her slightly. Mor wiped her mouth with a napkin, then stood up. “Well, it was wonderful to meet you Feyre. I have a meeting to run off to, but I hope I’ll see you again this week!”

“The same to you, Mor. And I’m sure that we’ll see each other again soon,” Feyre said, meaning her words. And with that, Mor walked off into the the hallway, leaving Feyre alone with Rhysand.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” She asked, and Rhysand quirked a brow at her, questioning. “Seeing as I know how to read, you can’t follow through with your plan to torture me with it.”

Rhysand loosed a sigh, his shoulders hunching slightly. “I do not intend to torture you during your time here, Feyre, physically or otherwise. In fact, if you’ll allow me to, I would like to apologize to you.”

Feyre frowned. “I suppose you can, it does not mean I will forgive you, however.”

“I am not looking for forgiveness, Feyre, I am simply hoping to apologize for my actions, now and whenever else you will allow me. What I did to you and how I acted Under the Mountain…” He paused, looking for the right words. “It was and is unforgivable, no matter the circumstances. I regretted my actions even as I was doing them, and now as well, having you here under the coercion of a bargain that I twisted your infected, broken arm to force you into making. Worst of all was the way I used you during the revels, no matter the reason why, I cannot ever undo the trauma and pain I inflicted upon you. Feyre, I am truly, deeply sorry for how I have hurt you. If you wish, I will release you from the bargain today and return you to Spring right now.”

Feyre’s eyes were wide by the time he had finished, the sincerity of his words shocking her. Most of all, she was shocked at his willingness to revoke the bargain.

“I…” She started, but could not find the words. The omega inside of her was begging her to forgive him, please the alpha in front of her, but the emotional part of her, the part that was damaged and forever changed? It could not simply forgive his actions.

“There is no need to answer me anytime soon, Feyre.”

“No, it’s not… I’m just surprised, is all. I… I will not forgive you now, but I can see that there is a difference in you from a year before now. As for the bargain…” Feyre paused, and Rhys waited, hardly breathing. “The bargain did save my life, no matter how you convinced me to take it, I would have died without it. As of right now, I am fine with continuing to honor it, as long as you offer me another bargain that you will break it if I ask you at any point in time.”

Rhys smiled at Feyre, a broad, toothy one that made him so handsome it nearly took Feyre’s breath away. “It’s a bargain, darling. And thank you.” Inside the unmarked space on her left wrist, a small ribbon of black tied in a bow appeared, a matching one on Rhysand.

“Would you…” Rhysand hesitated. “Would you be willing to try and be friends? At least, friendly during your time here?”

Feyre considered it for a moment. “As long as you do not make any more bullheaded comments about my alpha, then I suppose that would be doable,” She agreed.

Rhys chuckled and nodded his head. “I will do my very best to be polite about him, Feyre, I promise.” He stood up from the table and extended his arm closest to Feyre, and his scent washed over her again. “Now, would you be up for a tour? I would like for you to be able to do more than bathe and sleep, if you so choose.”

Feyre stood up as well, and grabbed his arm lightly, not entirely having planned to do that. She could, after all, walk on her own and follow him. “That sounds nice, I’d like to have more places to hide from you if you do end up being an ass.”

Rhys chuckled at that, and began leading her down the opposite hallway from where her room was.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

The tour took about an hour, granted a lot of that was Feyre exploring the library, a massive, gorgeous room that had a large mural covering the entire far wall.

Rhysand had explained that the mural told the story of the creation of the Night Court, up through the midway point of his father’s rule.

Feyre was entranced by it, similar to the mural back in the Spring library, so much so that Rhysand had to practically drag her away from it, back to the rest of the moonstone palace.

After that, she was most interested in the kitchen and large bathing pools, the latter of which she may have been tempted to use if she didn’t have such an amazing bath in her room already.

“This is our final stop,” Rhys said, swinging the door in front of them open to reveal a relatively bare room, only furnished with two wooden chairs with padding.

Feyre’s face contorted, her mind going to the worst, before Rhys caught sight of her expression and quickly said “It’s a small training room, suitable for beginners magic training, as well as mental shielding. I was hoping that you would be willing to train your magic, if you haven’t begun already in Spring.”

Feyre’s cheeks heated quickly, and she turned away from him and the doorway. “I don’t have any kind of magic,” she stated in a small voice.

“They may not have manifested yet for some reason, Feyre, but you were given a kernel of power from each High Lord.” He walked around her so she faced him, and he lifted her chin with two gentle fingers. “Not much is known about Made fae, but I would reckon that you will have a well of power to rival any one of us, just waiting to be coaxed to life.”

His gentle tone and scent was like a balm on the sting of embarrassment at having no magic to show for what she was gifted, and she nodded her head, his fingers dropping from her chin.

“Would you be willing to try? If you’re uncomfortable attempting to use your magic with me, we could at the very least go over magical theory and how to begin accessing it. Or even just the shielding,” he suggested.

Feyre nodded her head again. Both of those sounded like reasonable, kind enough options for him to offer. “That sounds fine, but… Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why offer to train me? Why offer to help me protect my mind from you?”

Rhysand sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I want you to be able to protect yourself Feyre, even if it is from me. I was not lying when I said I came to call in the bargain because I was worried for you,” he said sincerely.

“As long as you’re not an ass to me during the shielding, both will be fine. I would… I would like to know if I have any magic,” Feyre said hesitantly, a spark of hope igniting in her chest. Something that she hadn’t felt in quite a while, besides the hope for Tamlin’s mark, though that was hardly ignited anymore, especially with the disastrous ceremony now standing between them… Mother, they have so much to discuss when she gets home.

“Of course, Feyre, I’ll be as gentle as I can. As for the theory…” he trailed off, and had suddenly pulled a book from nowhere, and handed it to Feyre. “You can begin reading this today, and we can go over however much you’ve read tomorrow after breakfast.” Feyre turned the book over in her hands, admiring the leather cover that was stitched with silver thread. “It’s a book on the formation of magic as fae age, as well as the beginnings to understanding how to access the magic within you. Read as much or as little as you like."

“Thank you,” Feyre said, clutching the book to her chest.

“Or course, darling. Now, I’ll show you back to your room from here, but after that I’ll be in meetings until dinner this evening, so lunch is yours to take wherever you wish. Just call for Nuala or Cerridwen, or talk to me,” He tapped his temple, “And it will be set up for you. And of course, feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you’d like.”

They made their way back to her room, both of them stopping outside of the doorway.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and she blurted out the question, “Did you help decorate my room?”

Color rose high in Rhysand’s cheeks, the first time that Feyre had ever seen him look bashful, and he coughed awkwardly. “As a matter of fact I did. Are you finding it to your liking? I was attempting to make it as open and inviting as possible.”

Feyre smiled and nodded her head. “Yes, it’s lovely. The view from this side is spectacular.”

Rhysand’s expression mirrored her own. “It certainly is. Have a good rest of your day, Feyre,” he said in parting, and began to walk away.

Feyre turned the doorknob and began to open her door, but before entering her room, turned back to his retreating form. “You too, Rhys. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Rhysand turned around, flashing that toothy smile again, and winked before winnowing away.

She shook her head and entered her room, settling down into her bed, the book Rhysand had given her clutched tightly in her hands. She ran her hands over the cover, the feeling of the stitching comforting against them.

Without waiting another moment, Feyre opened the cover and began reading the guide greedily, wanting what Rhysand had talked about, wanting to be able to defend herself and access the magic he believed her to have been blessed with.

She wanted to be strong again.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

🩵💜🩵

The book was fascinating.

Feyre had no idea how complex the magical growth process was before reading, no one had bothered to explain it to her, she had simply went on believing that there was some type of magical core that stored the power.

While there was a core holding spot, located in the body’s center of gravity according to the book, that was present from birth. In the first ten or so years of life, depending on the fae and the size of their initial core, the expansion of power is slow, but after the tenth birthday or so the first major expansion happens.

The magical core pushes outward, burning new channels into the body to carry magic, starting with the blood vessels. Pain was expected with each new expansion, the magic making a physical mark inside of the body to increase the overall capacity.

Feyre frowned, knowing that she had never felt any kind of expansion through her body. Though, with being Made, that process could very well have happened before she returned to her body from that endless void. She pressed a hand to her chest, attempting to find any kind of warmth or something that would indicate a well of power within her. But, there was nothing. She shook her head and continued reading.

Up through maturity, fae would continue to have magical growth within their body, every few years or if they consistently exhausted their magic. At around 50, when almost all fae are considered to be adults, growth usually stops, leaving the fae with their fully formed magical core. The only exception was to those with extremely large cores, such as the High Lords or their heirs, who typically had an expansion every century or so to keep the magic from eating away their body.

She wondered if Rhysand continued having them, being known as the most powerful High Lord in history.

He’s probably bragged about it to the other High Lords before, she thought, snorting at the image her mind created. Rhysand, standing in front of Beron, boasting about how “his core had tripled in size in the past few centuries, could he believe it? And what about you, Beron?” With his signature smirk.

She made it through the first two chapters before Nuala knocked on her door.

“Come in,” Feyre said, sitting up from her slumped position on the bed.

The door opened, revealing the wraith carrying a tray with a couple of dishes on top. Feyre stood, stretching her limbs and shaking the stiffness from her body.

“I brought you some lunch, Feyre. There’s soup, bread, and…” she turned around, revealing a midnight blue, large cylindrical cup with a lid. “This, I thought you might like something to keep water in that won’t spill everywhere.” Nuala offered the cup to Feyre, who took it and screwed the lid off, taking a few large gulps of water, not having realized how thirsty she was while wrapped up in the book.

“Thank you, Nuala, this is perfect. And I’d completely forgotten about lunch, I’m so glad you remembered! It smells wonderful, thank you,” Feyre said gratefully, taking a seat at the table.

“It’s no problem at all, Feyre. Rhys had asked me if you’d had lunch yet, and wanted me to bring you something soon before it would spoil your appetite for dinner,” Nuala replied, walking out of the door after she’d flashed Feyre a soft smile.

Feyre smiled to herself, genuinely touched that Rhysand seemed to care for her well-being. Nearly everything he had done since she had arrived proved that.

The soup was divine, and Feyre spied the same blend of root vegetables as were in the stew yesterday, this time with chicken instead of beef, what looked to some type of mushroom and soft spiralled noodles. It was spiced gently, a comforting flavor that she thought would be perfect if she ever caught an illness like a cold or flu. There were two delightfullly flaky rolls as well, and a nicely sized pad of butter waiting to be spread on with a knife. The meal was perfection, matching wonderfully with the slightly chilled breeze that was wafting in from the open wall in front of her. Both meals she had taken in her room were a lovely match to the autumn season, and she couldn't help but wonder why back in Spring, they only ever attempted to eat for the true season they were in at solstices.

Perhaps it was the lack of root vegetables that grew in Spring, but surely the courts traded goods among themselves?

Feyre shook the thought from her head, it isn't truly important what type food she eats, the food back in Spring was lovely as well.

Once she finished her meal, she crawled back onto her bed, laying on her stomach with a pillow underneath her chest, feet kicking lazily in the air as she continued onto the next chapter.

This one covered the actual expressions of magic that began appearing as fae aged.

Supposedly, the first signs appeared from birth to the first year, small things, like a candle being blown out when the window is shut, or a blanket being singed lightly.

After the first year, the magic fades, only returning in greater force and frequency once the child was around five, their core having expanded a bit more.

Feyre furrowed her brow. She and Tamlin had been trying adamantly for a child over the past year. Feyre herself wanted to bring a sweet, new life into this world, someone that she could protect as much as possible from the cruelty of the world. She wanted to watch her and Tamlin's child grow older, turn into their own person. Tamlin had been interested in that as well, but a driving force for him was the need for an heir to continue his family's bloodline, something that Feyre was all too happy to do for him.

But, if they were trying for a child, why had Tamlin not at least explained some of the basics of what to expect before they started?

Though, seeing as how no facets of her possible magic had been explained to her, perhaps he had assumed she knew implicitly somehow, or that Ianthe had explained it to her. And if he had, well, he was definitely incorrect. Feyre felt so in the dark now, having learned more in one afternoon than in a year back home.

Feyre promised herself that she would talk to him about it when she returned home.

She had nearly finished the chapter, longer than the first two, when another knock came on her door, prompting her to close the book and sit up.

“Come in.”

The door opened, revealing Rhysand who stood in a fine black suit, a welcoming smile on his face.

“Dinner is ready, Feyre. If you’re ready now, we can walk down together,” he suggested gently, still giving her an out in case she would rather go alone.

Feyre smiled back at him, getting up from her bed and sliding her flats back on. “I’m ready now.” She crossed the room, shutting the door behind her, and his scent washed over her. Every time, it made her heart flutter a little bit, which confused her but she took as just another interesting development in her body since becoming an omega.

Rhysand beamed at her then, another clear sign that he truly wanted to be friends with her.

They walked together to the table they had breakfast at, and a mouthwatering smell overtook Feyre’s senses the closer that they got to it.

On the table was a pan holding a roast, beef if Feyre was correct, surrounded by perfectly tender root vegetables. There was a bowl of mashed potatoes, a carafe of gravy, and large loaf of bread on a cutting board, steam still wafting from it as they sat down.

Rhysand began to carve the roast, giving two large slices to Feyre and scooping a hearty portion of vegetables onto her plate as well, then served himself. Feyre helped herself to a large spoonful of mashed potatoes, making a dent in the middle with her spoon after passing the serving spoon into Rhysand’s hands. She poured a generous amount of gravy on, even pouring a small amount on top of the roast.

Feyre had gone to pass the carafe to Rhysand, when she looked at his face, a look of bemusement on it.

“What?”

“You made a hole for gravy in your potatoes.”

Feyre raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Rhysand shook his head. “Nothing, you just reminded me of one of my brothers,” He said quickly. “Cassian always did love to have as much gravy as he could fit on his plate,” he stated with a fondness in his eyes, taking the gravy from her hands and pouring some on his potatoes before setting it down.

“I didn’t think you had any siblings,” Feyre voiced, never having seen anyone who even resembled him Under the Mountain. Then again, Feyre had not seen Mor until this morning.

“Oh, Cassian is more of a brother by choice, we met in the Illyrian camps when we were young. He, Azriel, and I have been thick as thieves since then, and considered ourselves true family regardless of our blood,” Rhysand answered as he cut the loaf of bread, passing a slice to Feyre, and she couldn’t help but smile at the softness in his face when he talked about them. So many different sides to this male, so many different facets of his personality that she had barely gotten a glimpse at.

“That sounds nice, having a family that you love because you want to, rather than being forced to,” Feyre said as she buttered her bread, thinking about her still human family. How difficult it had always been to just survive around them, every day like walking on eggshells to keep a fight from exploding and destroying them once and for all.

“I am sure that the two of them would love to call you their sister,” Rhysand offered. “If you would like to meet them at some point, I could ask them to visit while you’re here.” Feyre thought about his suggestion for a moment, then nodded.

“That would be nice, I think, to meet them at some point.”

Rhysand smiled again. “I’ll float the idea past them this month, then. And I’ll make sure to check with you before they show up, they can be a bit… much. Cassian especially, he can be similar to a very excitable puppy at times.”

Feyre snorted at that, then took her first bite of the roast, suppressing a moan at the flavor. The meat was so tender it melted in her mouth, the flavor of the vegetables and whatever spices were used pairing perfectly with it.

Rhysand was watching her again, and she quirked an eyebrow at him, causing him to take a bite of his own meal.

They ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Feyre set her fork down.

“What are the blue and brown vegetables called?” She asked.

Rhysand blinked at her, swallowing the bite he had been chewing.

“They’re both native to Illyria, the blue one is a called ilpato, and the brown one is parillya.”

Feyre nodded her head, trying to remember the names. Ilpato and parillya. “What’s Illyria?”

“Well, the Illyria is a vast expanse of lands, particularly brutal year round, with the Steppes almost always having a layer of snow on them. It’s home to the Illyrians, a race of fae known for their inherent killing power and large wings.” Those same wings suddenly appeared behind Rhysand, taking Feyre’s breath away. They were beautiful, brutal, yes, with clawed tips at the apex, but the leathery expanse of them was black until the light hit it just right, making the delicate membranes visible.

Feyre’s fingers itched to commit them to canvas, paper, anything at all.

“My mother was Illyrian, and I thank her every day for the wings she gifted me. We value the freedom of flight above all else, and there has yet to be a sensation to compare to it in my life.”

Feyre’s mind ran wild, and she could almost feel the breeze in her hair.

She longed for that feeling. Pure freedom.

“Is your mother…?”

Rhysand loosed a sigh. “No, she and my sister passed quite some time ago, though I miss both of them dearly every day.” A wistful smile graced his face, and he continued, “They both would have adored you, that I know for sure. They always did like someone who could challenge me the same way they did.”

A blush crept onto Feyre’s cheeks, and she shoved a bite of creamy, gravy covered potatoes in her mouth.

The rest of the dinner passed comfortably, the two of them finishing their plates at the same time.

Rhysand walked Feyre back to her room, those massive, breathtaking wings still out, and the two of them lingered in her doorway for a moment.

“Have a good night, Feyre.”

“You too, Rhys. Dinner was amazing. Tell Nuala and Cerridwen that they outdo themselves with every meal I’ve had since arriving.”

Rhysand smiled, and Feyre could have sworn she saw a bit of extra color in his cheeks.

“I will, darling, they’ll be happy to hear it.” And with that, he walked away. Feyre watched him for a moment, before entering her room and closing the door behind her.

The sun was setting, and Feyre wanted nothing more than to take bath and watch it slip below the horizon.

She padded over to her bathroom, kicking off her flats just outside the door. She shucked off her sweater and leggings, tossing them into the laundry basket inside of the bathroom. Grabbing a hair tie and putting it up into a bun, Feyre sank down into the tub, submerging all but her head.

The sunset was gorgeous, yellow fading to a pale orange, into a soft pink. It would make a lovely painting, she thought to herself.

Feyre let out a sigh, and turned her attention to the soaps and scented oils lined up on the edge of the tub connected to the wall. She sniffed a few bottles of oils, settling on sweet blend of lavender and orange blossom, a scent that instantly made her relaxed and a little sleepy. Pouring a small amount directly into the bath then placing it back in its spot, Feyre reclined back against the edge of the tub, soaking in the view and oil’s scent.

Taking her time, she leisurely washed herself, getting out once the sky had turned to purples and blues and drying off with a fluffy towel.

Feyre returned to her bedroom, flinging open the wardrobe to pick out pajamas for the night.

She flicked through the nightgowns, stopping on one that was made of a soft, sheer fabric in a pale pink. The long sleeves puffed out into wide sleeves that would still feel comfortable and free while sleeping, and the bottom of the dress would probably reach her ankles. Feyre pulled it off of the hanger, slipping it over her shoulders. The dress was loose but comfortable, skirt of it wide enough that Feyre was tempted to twirl in it to see the way the fabric moved.

Feyre felt so girly in it, so soft and sweet. She wished Tamlin could see her in it, hear the words he’d whisper in her ear while he hugged her from behind. She wrapped her arms around herself, smiling like a lovesick idiot at the thought.

It felt different than the girly dresses she was given at home, perhaps it was that she had chosen to wear it, or maybe it was how comfortable it was in comparison. The ones in Spring were made of fabric that was the tiniest bit scratchy, or clung to her body just a little too much. And, the patterns Ianthe picked out for her… well, they weren’t Feyre’s taste at all.

She fisted the material of the dress, shaking it back and forth. The fabric moved like water, just as Feyre was hoping. It was beautiful.

Feyre walked back over to her bed, picking up the book Rhysand had given her and cracking it open once again, just to finish the chapter she had started before dinner.

It took her a half an hour, by the end of which she was yawning every couple of minutes. She placed the book on her bedside table, then peeled the covers back, climbing underneath them and placing her head on a pillow.

Feyre looked out at the stars, loving the way they glimmered in the dark night sky, and they were the last thing she saw before she drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

🩵💜🩵

The next morning, Feyre woke on her own to the sun already over the horizon. She let out a yawn, her arms stretching fully at the same time. She reached for her water cup, screwing off the lid and taking a few swigs before replacing it and setting it back where she’d grabbed it from.

Feyre stood up and made her way into the bathroom, nightgown swishing gently around her ankles. She brushed her teeth and hair, straightening out her appearance.

She felt more energized than she had in a while, almost like a weight was lifted off her heart. She couldn’t fathom why, though.

Back in her room, she picked out a matching lilac top and pants. The pants came up to her bellybutton and were loose until her ankles, where they came in to cuff her ankles, and the top was long sleeved and similarly designed to the pant legs, coming down to just above her bellybutton, leaving a small strip of skin visible between the two pieces of clothing. The lilac looked lovely with her skin tone, still fairly pale but less so than a year ago, and the clothing itself was comfortable and easy to move in. She picked up a pair of matching slippers, sliding them onto her feet and walking to her door.

After leaving her room, Feyre made her way into the library, wanting to find some kind of adventure or romance story to read for the day in addition to the book on magical development. She wandered through the stacks, and finally found herself in what seemed to be the fiction section. Perfect.

Feyre picked out a few books that seemed promising; a romance about an affair between a princess and her personal guard, one about a band of thieves recruited by their court to infiltrate their enemies, and another that was just a simple slice of life of an omega and her alpha starting a family. She was excited to read all of them, though it was likely she would only get through one during this week.

Feyre made her way back to her room, already reading the one about a princess as she did.

And then she crashed into something solid.

“Good morning, Feyre darling,” Rhysand said amusedly, and when Feyre looked up at him he had a grin on his face, his violet eyes staring down at her and scent filling her nose. His wings were hidden again, how he managed that trick, Feyre wanted to know.

“Oh, Rhys, I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed, closing the book that had crushed against his chest and stepping back, her cheeks turning a bright red. “I suppose I shouldn’t be reading while walking, hmm?” Feyre shook her head, then asked “Is breakfast ready yet?”

“Yes, I was just coming to get you, Feyre. Mor is eagerly awaiting you, she nearly chased me down here herself but coffee seemed to be more important,” He chuckled, turning to walk with Feyre back to the door of her room.

“I’ll just go set these in my room, okay?” Feyre opened the door, rushing inside and chucking the books in her bed, coming back into the hallway and resuming their walk towards the dining table.

“I’m glad you’re exploring on your own a bit, I know it must still be a bit unsettling being in a new environment,” Rhysand said as they walked.

“Ah, well, I wanted something else to read along with the book you loaned me,” Feyre admitted. “The book is very interesting, but sometimes it’s nice to have something a bit mindless to do, for me at least.”

Rhysand nodded his head in agreement. “I understand that. Sometimes it’s nice to have a different world fill your head instead of the one that contains all of your problems.”

“You get it,” Feyre said as they approached the table, Mor waiting impatiently with a stack of catalogues on the table in front of where she was seated.

“Feyre! Good morning, lovely! Now, I know you didn’t say yes to my offer for shopping booklets, but I decided that I would bring them to you anyways, just in case the mood to spend Rhys’s money does come to you,” the alpha said, placing them to the side of Feyre’s plate after she sat down. “There are some for furniture, bedding, nesting fabrics, books, clothing of course. I think I also managed to snag a cosmetics one in case you wanted some. Oh and a couple little pamphlets from restaurants that I love!”

Feyre swiped through them quickly, the one boasting about nesting fabrics catching her eye. She’ll look at that one the first moment she’s alone.

For now, Feyre looked away from the large stack, turning her attention toward the plates of food.

Fluffy pancakes were stacked on a large plate, perfectly golden on each side and sweet smell wafting from them, sausages piled on a plate next to them and another large bowl of fruit like yesterday morning.

Feyre stabbed a two sausages, putting them on her plate before doing the same for Mor. Rhysand grabbed his own, spooning a good amount of fruit onto his plate as well, then doing the same for Feyre and Mor.

“My, my, you two are so helpful,” Mor said, watching them serve the food. She picked up three pancakes and dropped them on her plate, pouring some sweet, rich maple syrup on top of them and immediately carving into them.

A blush rose to Feyre’s cheeks. She had never been one to willingly serve people before becoming an omega, but now it was a simple way for her to show her care and respect. And truly, she loved it. A small act of service could bring a smile to a loved one’s face, and that was much more important to her now that she had come back to life, everything seeming more precious to her than before.

“I just like being nice when I can,” Feyre explained, grabbing three pancakes for herself. She buttered the top of each one, placing them in a stack on her plate, and then poured a generous amount of the syrup onto them. She carefully cut out a slice, stabbing the pieces and taking a bite. “Oh Mother, these are good!” She said once she finished swallowing.

“Yes, well, we do have the best cook staying here with us,” Mor explained. “They love to make delicious food to keep our guests happy and well fed.”

“Compliments to them,” Feyre replied, taking another bite of the heavenly pancakes.

“I’ll make sure to pass it along,” Rhysand says, sipping his coffee and watching the two females in front of him.

There was silence for a few minutes as they ate, lasting until they were nearly finished eating.

“So, Feyre, if you could travel anywhere in Prythian, or even the continent, where would you go?” Mor asked.

“More questions again today?” Feyre asked before thinking on it for a moment. “I suppose the Dawn Court sounds nice, I have always loved watching the sun rise.”

Mor nodded her head. “The Dawn Court is an amazing place, they have so many beautiful fields of flowers in the Spring and Summer! Maybe we could take a trip there during blooming season?”

It was enticing, the idea of exploring the world beyond the lands of Spring she had seen so far. “That sounds lovely, Mor. We could even make it a little girls’ trip, just the two of us.”

“Perfect! Oh, I’ll start planning today! How does seven months from now sound? That would be right around the peak blooming season, I believe.” Feyre nodded her head in agreement. “Rhys, you’ll talk to Thesan for us, please?”

“Of course, cousin, anything for the two of you,” He said easily, a smile gracing his face. “But for today, Feyre, I’d like to pull you away for training. We can go over whatever you’ve read, then practice shielding and calling on your magic if you feel up to it.”

Feyre’s head bobbed up and down as she finished her last bite of sausage, pushing her plate away. “That sounds like a good plan, Rhys.”

“Ugh, training. Count me out,” Mor said as she stood up from the table, taking her coffee mug with her.

“That’s fine cousin, you weren’t invited,” Rhys replied, a smirk on his lips.

“Oh, fuck off Rhys, you know I’ll help out with her at some point if Feyre would like.”

“Yeah, Rhys, Mor might be a better teacher than you are,” Feyre jested, and Rhys looked to her on mock offense.

“How rude are the two of you? Come on, Feyre, let’s go before she rubs off on you more,” He said, holding a hand out to Feyre after standing.

Feyre took it, getting up from her chair. Mor had already wandered off after sticking her tongue out at Rhys.

He led her back to the training room, ushering her inside and to the cushioned chair on the right. Sitting across from her, he clasped his hands together. “So, how far into the book have you gotten so far?”

“I got three chapters in, up through some of the beginning expressions of magic.”

“Good, that’s a fantastic start Feyre.” Feyre felt her cheeks heat slightly at the praise. “Did you have any questions about any of the information?”

“Not directly, more about… how you believe it relates to me,” Feyre stated, slightly worried about what his answer might be.

“Personally, I believe that when you were brought back you were Made with an adult sized magical core, and it is simply taking its time to expand into your bloodstream. Now, are you absolutely sure that you’ve had no instances of magic expressions?” Rhys asked, staring into Feyre’s eyes.

Feyre thought hard on it, and realized that soon after coming back to Spring a year ago, a dress had caught fire in her room. Ianthe had been insisting that Feyre wear it, but the pattern was horrid and the fabric and cut was far too uncomfortable for Feyre to willingly wear.

It had burst into flames when Ianthe went to take it off the hanger, and they had all simply assumed that it had caught fire from the lit candle nearby.

Now, though…

“I might have accidentally set a dress on fire a year ago.”

“Well, then, you might have a compressed growth period, with only one expression before your core began to slowly expand. If that is the case, Feyre, you are most likely near your first expansion.”

“So… what would that mean, exactly?” Feyre couldn’t quite wrap her head around it yet.

“I expect that within the next three months or so your core will push into your bloodstream and carve new channels for your power to expand into. Think of it as though you are going through the first ten years of your life in a little over a year, magical growth wise. You magic is attempting to make up for being largely undeveloped in an adult body by accelerating the process, most likely expanding as quickly as your body is able to handle.”

Feyre slowly nodded her head, thinking she understood the likely situation now.

“I do have one more question- about the expansions? How much do they hurt?” She asked quietly.

“The first expansion was definitely the most painful for me, at least, my core had nearly doubled in size by the end of it. But as you grow older, they become less intense, for the most part.”

“Ah… something to look forward to, I suppose,” Feyre joked sarcastically. “How long do they usually take?”

“It can take anywhere from a few hours to a day or two.”

“Constant pain?”

“Near the end it tapers off into a dull ache or itch that you can’t satisfy, but before that, yes.”

Feyre sighed. “And you think mine will be worse?”

Rhysand nodded. “You most likely have a large magical core already, and as your first expansion it will be creating the largest amount of new pathways throughout your body, it will most likely last a day or more, you may even need to be kept sedated for your safety. I am sorry, Feyre.”

“How wonderful,” Feyre replied drily before shaking her head, attempting to clear her anxieties about her possibly expanding magic.

“Well, enough of this downer talk, Feyre darling, let us begin to build your mental shields, if you’re still willing?”

Feyre bobbed her head, mentally preparing herself for what’s to come. While he had promised to be gentle, she was sure there was only so gentle someone could be while in someone’s mind.

“Start by picturing something very solid surrounding your mind.”

“Seriously?” Feyre asked.

“Yes, Feyre, I am serious. You will need something sturdy that can encompass all of who you are, without any cracks or places weak enough that someone with ill intent can slip inside. The fundamentals to shielding your mind are, quite literally, creating a shield around your mind,” Rhysand explained. “It may sound silly to do at first, but it is incredibly important to have a solid foundation.”

Feyre narrowed her eyes slightly at him before closing them, accepting that she would have to do this, no matter how silly it felt to picture a large stone wall around her mind, similar to those surrounding the manors she had seen in the human lands.

It was thick, sturdy, made of large chunks of stone cemented together, rising over ten feet high.

“Alright Feyre, I’m going to test your defenses now, if you’re ready.” Feyre nodded, her eyes still shut as she focused on keeping that wall built in her mind.

Slowly, inky tendrils of night caressed the wall, searching for any weaknesses.

It took maybe four seconds for it to begin spilling through a crack in the wall where the stones met, and as it did a haze slipped over Feyre’s thoughts, the wall crumbling to dust.

The night pulled back as soon as it did, and Feyre came back into the room, Rhysand still seated across from her. A slight sheen of sweat had formed on her skin, even from such a small attempt to protect herself.

“That was an amazing first shield, Feyre,” he said warmly, causing Feyre’s cheeks to heat yet again. “What did you notice?”

Feyre’s brow furrowed as she thought about it. “The mist- you- slipped through a small crack in the wall, one that I didn’t even know was there.”

“Precisely. A Daemati will know where the common weak points generally appear, it’s normally in the areas that we don’t think twice about being secure, especially when using fae or human made structures.” Rhysand paused, looking Feyre over. “As we go through this, Feyre, remember that this is a learning process, one with a very sharp curve for learning how to control magic and shielding concurrently.”

“Rhys, I will be fine,” Feyre insisted. “I taught myself to shoot a bow and arrow as a child. I can handle having a few stumbles with learning this, I promise you.”

“Very well, Feyre. If you’re ready, we can try again.”

“Yes, please,” Feyre said, beginning to form a smooth, solid wall made of one continuous piece of stone. None of it appeared to have any cracks or crevices in it, but she supposed only time would tell.

“Nod when you’re ready for me, alright?”

Feyre nodded a moment later, and the dark wisps of power began creeping along the wall of her mind once more. It searched for something to grip onto, rip into but found nothing, only pushing further and further up the wall.

It was then that Feyre realized her mistake.

She quickly began attempting to create a roof over the wall, something to keep Rhysand’s power out, but it moved to quickly and slinked over, that same hazy feeling coming over her mind before retreating just as fast as it came.

“Wonderful Feyre, you figured out my next lesson before I’d even gotten into your mind. The wall must encase all of your mind, otherwise I can simply pass over the wall and easily access your mind.”

“Hmm…” Feyre hummed. “Does it need to be a wall, or can it be something else surrounding it?”

Rhysand smiled at her proudly. “It can be whatever you want it to be, Feyre. No two mental barriers are exactly alike, they reflect the person they protect.”

Feyre knew what her wall would take shape as, then. Something that could cover her entirely, but she would not be lost in.

“I’m ready for you to try again, please.”

Rhysand sunk into the space around her mind, suddenly floating on a body of water that had no end in sight, tumultuous waves crashing against his power. “Clever, Feyre darling. Very clever,” he purred into her mind, and the waves stilled for a moment before picking up in intensity once more. “Where are you hiding?” The mist floated along the surface of the water, taking a moment before diving down. It sank deeper and deeper before finally landing in front of its prize.

“There you are, darling.”

The mist stroked along the dome along the sea floor, sensing Feyre’s presence underneath. It’s touch was gentle, reminiscent of a lover’s caress. A moment later, he pulled away, retreating entirely from her mind.

Feyre’s body felt heavy, tired from the exertion of keeping up a mental shield.

“You have done astoundingly well, Feyre, for only your first day shielding!” Rhysand said, looking genuinely impressed with her progress.

“Thank you, Rhys,” Feyre said bashfully. “But why didn’t you try to break in?”

“Well, I’d prefer to take your training slowly to build up your strength before we attempt any true attacks, that way we avoid any unnecessary pain.”

“Oh. When do you think I’ll be ready for that?”

Rhysand smiled at Feyre, before explaining “It will be entirely up to you, Feyre. Except for this week, of course. But for now, I’d like to move on to your magic itself. Have you tried reaching for it yet?”

Feyre bobbed her head. “I have, but I haven’t been able to feel anything. My chest just feels… cold. What is it supposed to feel like?”

“For me, it feels like a warm, comforting spark inside of my chest, right between my lungs. Just try focusing on that space as much as you can, tune everything else out.”

“Including your voice?”

Rhysand chuckled, responding, “Yes, Feyre. Even my voice.”

Feyre did as he said, narrowing her focus to the space between her lungs. After a minute, she could swear she felt a gently pulse, cold feeling in her chest. No warmth, but at least it was there, wiggling slowly with each breath.

“Wow,” she breathed. “That’s… that’s amazing. It’s like there’s something living in my chest.”

A soft chuckle escaped Rhysand’s lips, staring at Feyre intensely. “It can feel that way, especially when beginning training. As you progress, it should start to feel more like an extension of you, a piece of you so intertwined with your body that you won’t be able to imagine life without it anymore.”

“That sounds wonderful.” She placed her hand on her chest above where her core resides. “When will I be able to access it? My magic, that is?”

“If you feel up to it… You could try right now,” Rhys said, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watched her. “Try summoning one of the High Lord’s powers- wind, fire, water, ice, light, and darkness, any of them would be suitable. Pick the one that calls most to you, in this moment,” he instructed.

Feyre nodded, picking through the options he listed. Fire, she had called on before. Maybe it would be the easiest?

She imagined a spark coming to life above her fingers, holding her palm out flat.

Nothing happened, and Feyre furrowed her brow.

She concentrated harder, trying to create any extra warmth in her fingers- but nothing.

“Feyre, try another element.” Feyre narrowed her eyes at him, continuing to try and bring fire to her skin.

Nothing.

Feyre sighed in frustration, feeling more tired than before, and she’d only been attempting for a few minutes. “Nothing is happening.”

“I told you, it won’t be easy, Feyre. It takes time, just be patient with it.”

Feyre settled back in her chair with a pout on her face. She tried summoning a bit of light, this time.

Still. Nothing.

She cycled through the powers, attempting each of them for at least five minutes before moving on. She was getting tired, her body slumping further and further in the chair.

“Alright, Feyre. I’m calling practice for today. Come on,” He said, extending a hand after standing in front of her. She took it, grateful to have help getting to her feet.

They exited the room, walking at a leisurely pace towards her room in silence.

“Feyre, you did amazingly well today, better than most would with learning to shield, and on top of that, learning to access you magic is incredibly difficult,” Rhysand praised once they arrived at her doorway, color once again gracing high on her cheeks. “It also takes a large amount of energy, which is why you’re feeling so tired right now. I’ll have Cerridwen bring you lunch in a half an hour, alright?”

Feyre could only nod her head at him, so exhausted and ready for a bath that she just slipped into her room, beelining her way to the bathroom.

She pulled off the matching set of clothing, damp with sweat, tossing it into the laundry bin. Feyre tied her hair up into a bun again, sinking into the water quickly, a contented sigh leaving her lips.

Feyre’s eyes closed. They were so heavy now, it was hardly worth it to keep them open.

She pictured herself floating on that dark, tumultuous water. Pictured it calming, her body resting at peace on top of the water.

She floated off into the distance, sleep claiming her body.