#reader x morrigan

First, though, you had to meet her at the River House, where you know she had been meeting with other members of the Inner Circle to discuss an upcoming visit to the Court of Nightmares. It was only Feyre, Nesta, and Rhys, as Cassian, Amren, and Azriel were all on other diplomatic trips, preparing for the large gathering planned for the upcoming new year.

After winnowing to the front yard, you trudged through the thick snow, not bothering to knock before entering the large estate. It was quiet, Nyx likely occupied with Elain while the others conversed. You could hear their muffled voices coming from the center of the house, where Rhys' office was located.

You weren't trying to be especially quiet, but you also hadn't announced your arrival, either.

The doors to his office were closed, dim light seeping from underneath. As you got closer, you heard someone, maybe Feyre, mention your name.

This, of course, grabbed your attention, and you tiptoed forward gently to listen to what they were saying. Just a few steps away, you heard Nesta ask, "How are you two doing?"

The question wasn't odd as the two of you had just moved in together, so it was only natural that your friends wanted to know how this new stage in your lives was going.

Mor sighed before responding, "It's good."

This made your brows furrow, because if they had asked you, you would have replied that it was amazing, one of the best experiences of your life. You'd have said how much closer to her you felt, how much more in love with her you've fallen and how you can't wait to spend the rest of your lives together.

But, you knew that Mor did tend to keep her romantic life more private than some of the other members of the Inner Circle, just rivaling Amren. She trusted them with her life, of course, but it didn't erase the centuries she'd spent learning to be incredibly cautious with and protective of any love in her life.

There were just some things she preferred to keep private, being honest with these kinds of emotions has always been more difficult for her.

But, still, you wondered if maybe things weren't as perfect for her as they were for you.

You take another step closer, turning your ear to the door. Rhys chuckles, saying, "Just good? You're finally in a place to yourselves and it's just good? What happened to the Mor and Y/N I know, that were always complaining about living with," Rhys pauses, and you can see him deep in thought in your head. "What did she call us?"

Nesta speaks next, "A pack of unruly males?" the smirk evident in her voice.

Rhys and Feyre both laugh before Rhys speaks again, "Yes! You're telling me you're finally away from the Cassian and Azriel," Feyre cuts in, adding, "You too, Rhys!" before he finishes with, "Pissing contest?"

Mor laughs a bit, but she doesn't say anything.

You're really beginning to overthink now, your lips in a frown.

When the laughter dies down, Feyre asks, "Really, Mor, how is it? I miss having you both around."

Mor hums, and you can hear her take a large sip of wine now that you've moved to directly outside of the door, ear pressed to the dark wood.

"I love her, she's my mate, and I'm so glad to take this big step with her, but... it's different." Mor says, getting quieter by the end.

Your heart drops at the statement, and you can only listen as she continues.

"I g-guess.. she's just everywhere, you know? More clingy, too. It's only been two weeks, I'm still seeing how it goes..."

By now, your eyes are brimmed with unshed tears, and you begin to back away, not wanting to hear anymore and too worried you'll be discovered. The word she used, clingy, was ringing in your ears.

Yes, you were quite affectionate and cuddly with her. Especially now that you two had a private home, no risk of anyone seeing you be intimate and close. Not that you two hadn't been in front of your friends, but there was a different feel to it when you could wrap up on the couch together, cook a meal together, or read a book on the porch together completely alone. You loved it, cherished it, especially after spending so long wanting a romance like this, never thinking you'd find your mate.

You were devastated to know Mor didn't feel quite the same, but you loved her, of course, and didn't want anything to end between the two of you. You knew she loved you, but you wished she'd just told you if she was having any doubts about your living situation or if she wished you two could spend more time apart, rather than embarrass you in front of your friends.

Once you'd left the front of the River House, you winnowed away, to your and Mor's house.

You decided to get ready for the evening, that you'll just wait for Mor to return home instead of meeting her. You doubted that she'd notice, and that maybe, she'd appreciate the space you'd given her.

---

It's almost dark out by the time you heard the front door unlock and creak open. You'd begun to make dinner, a pasta sauce simmering on the stove next to a pot of boiling water, bread baking in the oven.

You listened to Mor shed her winter gear, ending with her boots landing on the mat by the front door. Her footsteps padded down the hallway, entering the kitchen where she saw you at the stovetop, back to the entryway.

"Hello, love," Mor said sweetly, before sniffing dramatically. "Whatever you're making smells amazing!"

You turn to look at her over your shoulder, smiling and thanking her.

Her brows drip just a bit in confusion, clearly expecting a more joyous greeting, but you send a loving pulse down the bond in an effort so soothe her, turning back to the food in front of you.

She walks forward, wrapping her arms around your waist, burying her face in the crook of your neck. You make no move to return the embrace, instead, continuing to stir the sauce that's nearly done.

She places a few kisses on your skin, then says, "I missed you today, baby. I thought you were going to meet me at Rhys' earlier?"

You place the spoon down, turning to look at her. "I had a long day at work today, so I figured I'd come home and start dinner early." You smiled at the end, to assure her that it was just a simple plan change.

She looks confused again for just a second, before she smiles and nods, leaning in to kiss your lips. You kiss her back, but pull away before she can deepen it. You didn't want to be cold, but you were still a bit hurt, and of course, you didn't want to seem clingy.

"Why don't you change into some comfier clothes, I'll have the food ready when you get back."

Mor slowly pulls away from you, nodding softly before backing out of the room.

You sigh, turning back to the stove.

By the time the pasta has been drained, added to the sauce pan, seasoned more to taste and plated, Mor is reentering the room. She dons a red nightgown. It isn't especially sexy, it covers her and is quite tame. But she knows how much you love her in red.

As you pull the bread from the oven and begin to place a piece on each of your plates, Mor grabs a bottle of wine from the rack Amren had gifted the two of you.

She pours you and herself a glass, placing them on the tables as you set the plates down. You go to gather silverware and napkins, but she pushes you to your seat, pecking your cheek. "Sit, my love, after cooking all this. I'll get the rest."

Truly, it wasn't much, and it definitely wasn't hard, but you two usually cooked together, so you know she likely wanted to feel like she did some of the dinner work.

You sat and waited, smiling at her as she set your things down on the table.

When she took her seat, you immediately began to eat, waiting for her to tell you about her day.

"So, do you want me to tell you about the Court of Nightmares trip?"

You nodded while sipping your wine, encouraging her to continue.

---

After your plates were cleaned and your wine glasses were emptied, you stood and began to collect the dishes. You hadn't talked much, and spoke little of your day. Your plan was to go to bed within the next hour or so, to give Mor some of the time alone she badly needed. There was a book Nesta had given you that you needed to finish anyway, a few knitting projects you'd started with Elain and had abandoned, some homework for the next term you could get a headstart on making.

Alone time, you decided, would be good for the both of you.

Mor helped you clean, singing a song under her breath to fill the silence. When you were done, she wrapped her arms around you again and kissed you, harder than before.

"I really missed you," she said against your lips, cupping your face with one hand and gripping your hip with the other.

And, of course, you missed her too. That was undeniable, and you can't resist kissing your mate.

"I missed you too, sweetheart, I'm glad you had a good day." You bumped her nose with your own, kissing her again, rubbing her arms and back.

She grips you tighter, pushing your body into hers. She groans in your mouth, and you pull away before it can go any farther.

Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, you say, "I'm really tired, my love, I'm sorry."

She rubs your cheek with her thumb, kissing your forehead before pulling away. "That's okay," she says, always loving and sweet, never wanting to pressure you or make you feel bad. "I want you to tell me about it, I was excited to see you earlier and I got sad that you didn't come," your heart stings at her admission, but she continues on, "but I understand that you're tired. What happened today? Come lay down with me on the couch."

You feel a bit guilty for rejecting her like this, but, as gently as you can, you say, "I think I'm just gonna go to bed, love. I'm really sorry, I'm just exhausted. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, I swear."

Mor looks a bit surprised at your response. "Do you feel alright, Y/N, do you feel sick?"

You huff a laugh, smiling and shaking your head. You kiss her again, to alleviate any worry. "Just a headache, from the bad day, I think. I'm just going to lay down, you know, in the quiet, see if it helps. I'll likely be asleep pretty quickly."

Reluctantly, with a frown on her face, Mor nods. "Okay, baby. If you think that'll make you feel better."

You hum, "It will. I'm fine, Mor, really."

She releases you and grabs your hand, pulling you to the bedroom. "Let me at least tuck you in?"

You laugh at her, and nod your head. "Alright."

---

Later, in the solitude of your shared bedroom, you attempt to focus on the coursework in front of you.

Mor had, as she said she would, tucked you into bed. She fluffed the pillows, laid you down, dimmed the lights, cracked a window just a bit to cool the stuffy room. Then, she pulled the blankets up to your chin, kissing your forehead before again asking if you're alright.

You reassured her that truly, it's just been a very long day, trying not to be puzzled over her apparent newfound desire to be incredibly close to you tonight.

You couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about the distance you'd been putting between the two of you this evening. But, you were admittedly still very hurt. You struggled to both wish that she'd spoken to you rather than behind your back, and be glad that she'd even opened up at all, likely wanting to spare your feelings. You did not want to drive her away from you by being... clingy. But, it was hard to do this, to be so... detached from one another.

You sigh in frustration, the blank sheet of paper in front of you taunting you. You resign to the fact that you will likely not get any work done tonight. Not for your job, not on Nesta's book, not your half knitted scarves. There really is nothing to do but think, and thinking is especially cruel on you tonight.

You... could go downstairs to join your mate. You can picture her, downstairs, cozy on the couch. Either painting her nails, reading a book, or maybe, unlike you, getting some work done on whatever work for the Night Court she'd been tasked with.

But... no. You wouldn't bother her. You'd give her her space, so long as she was happy and comfortable, you'd learn to be too with this new relationship dynamic. Really, so that you never lost her, you figured you had no choice.

It was a little over an hour later, long after you'd called it quits and shut the lights off entirely, that the bedroom door creaked open again.

You listened to Mor gently close the door behind her, and pad her way over to the bed. You were, very clearly, on your side of the bed. Almost to the edge. You hoped this didn't strike her as odd, because you rarely went to bed without her, you hoped it just seemed like you'd rolled over there in your sleep without her to cuddle up to.

She lifted the covers and slid in, yet remained still. You didn't dare show that you were still awake, and so you waited to see what move she made.

Finally, after several seconds of nothing, Mor shifted closer. She didn't cuddle you as intensely as usual, just reached a hand out to rest on your hip. Typically, you'd lay on her chest, or you'd take turns being the little spoon, or you'd lay facing one another with your legs and hands interlocked. You yearned for the contact, to feel her skin on your own. But, you made no move to get closer.

Falling asleep was difficult, especially without the comfort of your mate wrapped around you. But, eventually, under the weight of her delicate hand, you drifted off.

---

The next morning, you woke to sunlight trickling in through the blinds. You could see a bit of dust floating through the air, and you faintly picked up on the sound of yet more snow falling.

Turning to look beside you, you saw Mor, asleep and cozy. She looked so warm, so tired, yet not entirely peaceful. A small frown was painting her face, and you furrowed your brows in confusion. Sitting up in the bed, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, then her pouted lips. She didn't wake up at the touch, and you opted to let her sleep in rather than cuddle her until the both of you were awake and ready to start the day.

You shivered at the cold floor touching your barefeet, slipping fuzzy slippers Feyre had gifted you one year onto your feet. You gently exited the bedroom, careful to not disturb Mor's rest.

As you prepared coffee in the kitchen, you studied the snowfall from the window above the sink. It was gorgeous, a glittery white coat making the green of the trees surrounding your property stand out. Your house was tucked away in the woods, as it has been your dream to have a home surrounded by your favorite scenery. The house is private and cozy. But, it is also incredibly close to the heart of Velaris, just located on the closest edge of the city. That decision was for Mor, who loved city night life.

As you observe the weather, you wonder if you made a mistake choosing a home so secluded. The snow was thick and falling fast. Visibility was low, and you didn't need to go outside to know that it was bitter cold. Whatever plans you and Mor had for the day would be no more, as the weather was far too intense for any traveling.

This should have made you excited, squealing with glee. It should have sent you straight back to the bedroom, to sleep in with Mor, or, to wake her up and get her to enjoy the beautiful sight with you.

But, it made you... nervous. Nervous to see her reaction to her being snowed in with you, nervous that because neither of you could escape, one of you, likely her, would decide to leave for good when the snow cleared.

You shake your head, sipping your coffee, feeling silly for such dramatic thoughts.

She doesn't hate you, you thought. She loves you very much, she just needs space.

As if your sour thoughts had summoned her, Mor strolled into the kitchen. You hadn't heard her wake up, too lost in your head.

You turned to look at her, smiling softly over your mug, sending a loving pulse down the bond before you have to break the news to her.

She smiled back, tugging on your bond, walking up to you planting a firm kiss to your lips.

"Good morning, beautiful," Mor whispered against your lips, wrapping her arms around you and hugging you.

"Mmmm, good morning." You pressed a kiss to her hair, inhaling her scent.

You pulled back, turning to grab her favorite mug from a cupboard. "I made coffee, shall I make you a cup?"

You're pouring the coffee before she answers, knowing she'll never turn a cup of coffee down. She nods, then takes your spot at the sink, observing the snow as you had previously done.

"It's coming down hard, I didn't expect all this!"

You wince at the comment, hoping she isn't too terribly disappointed that she's trapped here.

"Yes, I thought yesterday was to be the worst of it. It doesn't look like we'll be able to do much today..." You trailed off at the end, bracing for a sight of disappointment.

When one didn't come, you turned back to her, holding out her mug that now contained coffee sugared and creamed to her liking.

She looked at you, wiggling her eyebrows and biting her lip. She took a deep sip from her mug before setting it down, grabbing your mug from your hands and placing it on the counter, too. She grabbed your hand, pulling you to the stairs, presumably back to the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" You asked, genuinely confused.

"Let's get some more clothes on, silly! There's so much snow to play in!" She giggles as she speaks, like it should be obvious what her plans for today are.

You let her pull you into the bedroom, watching as she rummages through drawers and your walk in closet. She pulls out several layers of clothes for both you and her, throwing them onto the bed. She starts to pull her nightgown over her head before catching your confused gaze.

"What's wrong, Y/N? I thought you loved snow?"

She's right, you do love snow. You loved the look of it, the feel of breathing in the cold air. The snowmen you could build and the snowball fights you were always determined to win. The crunch of it underneath your boots and the smoothness as you held it in your gloved hands.

That wasn't why you hesitated, though.

"I do!" You were quick to clarify, not wanting it to seem like you were the one not wanting to spend this time together. "I just... we can't really do anything today, with it coming down like this." Mor just stared at you, waiting for you to continue. "I-I mean, aren't you a little upset? Didn't you have more things to meet with Rhys and Feyre about? Weren't you going to help plan the New Year party?"

Mor slowly released the hem of her gown, confusion painting her face. "I mean, yes, I did have those plans today, but why would I be upset? It's just a party, one that's still days away." She stepped closer towards you, and you could sense that she was growing a little aggravated. "Why would I be mad that I get a day off, a day to spend at home?"

You wanted to say, because it's a day with me, another day you don't get to have alone. But, you didn't. Your goal has never been to start a fight over this, and so you backed down before one could start.

"I don't know, Mor. I just wanted to make sure you weren't upset about it... the way it looks outside, it could be a few days until everything is back to normal. I didn't mean to imply anything, I'm sorry."

Mor didn't say anything for a moment, just nodded her head and continued to frown.

"D-Do you... do you still want to go outside?" You asked tentatively, the air charged with frustration, confusion, hesitation.

Mor sighed, closing her eyes for a second before moving to pull on a pair of sweatpants, discarding her nightgown and putting on a sweater. "I don't feel like it anymore, maybe later."

She didn't look at you as she spoke, speaking under her breath and hurrying past you to the door.

You tried to grab her arm, to stop her from fleeing, but she moved out of your reach and left to go downstairs.

"Damnit." You muttered under your breath. You had never intended to upset her, but you also didn't think you had done anything to deserve her anger.

But, it seemed like now she truly did need that alone time she'd apparently been craving. You wouldn't stoke her anymore, you'd let her calm down, and you'd stay out her way, even if it mean enduring the radiating disappointment from the bond.

---

You spent most of the morning locked away in the bedroom, staying out of Mor's way. You left once to fix another cup of coffee, Mor was sitting at the table, touching up her red-painted nails. She just looked at you when you walked in, and said nothing as you left to retreat back upstairs.

The book you were reading, while good, wasn't doing a very good job of distracting you. In fact, the longer you sat, the more your frustration brewed.

You really didn't feel like you deserved for her to be upset with you. You had been trying to avoid this, a fight, a confrontation. But you weren't sure how to move past this until you two talked.

A little after noon, you again ventured downstairs, determined to get some food and speak to Mor. You planned to tell her how you felt undeserving of her disappointment, how you felt like it was unfair that she was upset with you for giving her what she seemingly wanted.

She was absent from the kitchen, and eventually, you found her in her office, leafing through paperwork at her desk. You could tell she was trying to busy herself, as just days ago, she had told you the paperwork was mindless, formality bullshit from court to court.

Leaning against the doorway, you ask her, "Would you like some lunch? I think I'm going to make a sandwich, or maybe a salad?"

Mor didn't look up from her work. "No, thanks," she mumbled under her breath, paying you no attention.

"Mor, look at me," you said, calm and with a balanced tone.

She sighed, refusing to meet your gaze, keeping her attention secured on the papers in front of her. "I'm not hungry, Y/N, I'll figure something out later." She briefly waved her hand in the air, like she was shooing you away.

You roll your eyes, the desire for a conversation gone at the annoyance in her tone. You turn to walk away, but you can't help yourself from saying, "Alone, I'm sure, as you've made it abundantly clear that you prefer."

You're hardly a few steps down the hallway before you hear Mor call, "What did you say?" The sound of her chair screeching backward as she rises fills the silence, but you're still walking away. You knew having a calm, collected talk about this wasn't going to happen after she acted so unconcerned with your presence.

You hear her footsteps enter the hallway, too, Mor trailing right behind you.

"Y/n, what did you just say?"

And, because you're beginning to grow a bit bitter about this whole situation, you say, "Figure it out later."

Her footsteps grow faster, and as you turn the corner to enter the kitchen, she grabs your wrist and whirls you around.

"Are you serious right now?" Her tone is sharp, her jaw clenched, her beautiful face painted with anger.

You laugh, once and humorless. "Am I serious? Are you serious, Mor? Acting so cold to me today," your voice grows sharper the more you think about it, "all because you're locked in this damn house with me!"

Mor's brows scrunch, a mixture of anger and confusion. "Excuse me?! You're the one who didn't want to go outside with me this morning! You're the one who avoided me last night, going to bed early and staying as far away from me as you could!"

You pull your arm out of her grasp, pointing at her, "I never said I didn't want to go outside with you! You're the one who said she didn't feel like going anymore!"

Mor turns, scoffing and throwing her hands in the air like she can't believe what's happening. "Why would I after you had just implied like going outside together was like, the worst possible thing that could happen to you!"

You stare at her for a moment, mouth open and eyes wide. "You're making stuff up at this point! I never did that! I was just thinking about you. Cauldron forbid I care about what you want, Mor!"

You shake your head, your heart is hammering and you're starting to feel the uncomfortable sensation of tears gathering in your eyes and a lump forming in your throat.

When you turn to walk away, before it gets any worse, Mor grabs you again.

"Don't walk away from me! What in the gods name are you even talking about? You seriously think work is all I care about? You know me better than that." She sounds hurt, and angry, but you can't imagine she feels those things anywhere near the same degree as you do.

You sigh, losing the edge to your voice, a tear finally leaking from one of your eyes. "No, Mor, I don't think that. But I do know that being with me, living with me, isn't what you thought it would be. I wanted to save you from that today, that's all."

She stops dead in her tracks, her pacing coming to an abrupt end as she stares at you like she doesn't even recognize you. "What are you even saying, Y/N? Do you even hear yourself?"

"I gave you space last night, and I tried to this morning, so I wasn't too clingy for you," you put emphasis on that word like it was damning you. "But all it did was make you bitter towards me today, Mor. So I'm not sure what else I can do."

Again, she stares at you like she has no idea what's going on. And then, you see it click. Her features slowly grow from angry to sad, and she closes her eyes, tilting her head down. She looks ashamed, like she wishes she hadn't been caught.

A few more tears run down your face, and you swipe them away with your fingers, trying to calm your shaking hands.

"I didn't want to fight about this, Mor, I never did. I heard something I wasn't supposed to. I can't change how you feel, but I can change how I act. Can we just leave this alone? I won't be as clingy, but I need you to stop treating me like I've done something wrong." Your voice is hardly a whisper, and you're turning to leave the foyer you've been having this confrontation in before, for the third time, Mor grabs your wrist to prevent you from leaving.

You don't look at her as she says, "Baby, I am so, so, so sorry," her voice cracks, and the sound of her so upset breaks your heart, despite her being the reason yours has been broken since the night before. "Please, Y/N. let me explain."

You shake your head, pulling your arm away, but she doesn't let go. "There's nothing to explain, Mor. I heard you clearly last night. As much as I wish you had spoken to me about this, rather than embarrass me in front of our friends, what's done is done. You can't change how you feel."

Just as you said to her, moments before, Mor asks, "Y/N, please look at me."

You pull your watery eyes to hers, and truly, she looks devastated.

"That's not how I feel, Y/N."

You smile softly at her, putting your hand on top of the one holding your arm. You push her grasp away, saying, "Mor, of course you do. I'm suffocating, I see that now. I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, bu-"

Mor's cutting you off before you finish. "No! Y/N, I mean it. I do not think you're clingy, I was an idiot to say that."

Before she can continue, you stop her with a hand raised. "Mor, seriously, this is just making it worse. We can figure out how to make this relationship work better, later. I really don't want to talk about it anymore."

Finally releasing yourself from the hold she's had on you, you make your way into the kitchen.

And, of course, your stubborn mate follows you. She watches as you pull supplies from the fridge, meat and cheese and lettuce and other things required for a sandwich.

You spot her chewing on her thumbnail, her newly painted nail, as she watches you.

You sigh as you pull the bread from the cupboard. "Do you want a sandwich, Mor?"

"I want to talk, Y/N. I want to explain, I want to make this right. Please, baby, let me explain." Her voice is pleading, and she sounds close to the tears you were in just moments ago.

You slam two slices of bread onto a plate more forcefully than necessary. "I said I don't want to talk about this anymore. Please, Mor. Enough."

She seems to understand how serious you are, and she doesn't push you any further. She sits at the table as you prepare your lunch, and because you love her very much, and you know she hasn't eaten, you fix her one, too.

---

The day moves slowly, the two of you sticking to doing your own things. You find that the day is easier now that she knows what you know, that it's easier to breathe knowing you've said what you needed to say.

Mor hovers around you, but she doesn't push you to speak anymore. When you leave to sit by the fire in the living room, she moves to the couch with a book in hand. When you decide to work on clearing your front porch of snow, she joins you, shovel in hand and wordless. When you take a hot bath after, she waits in the bedroom, tidying until you're done. When dinner comes around, it's her that makes you a meal, and you nod your head in thanks, the two of you eating her stew in silence.

Long after the sun has gone down, you're in your bedroom, pulling a sweatshirt, matching to your sweatpants, over your head.

The door creaks open, and Mor walks in, both your book and hers in hand. Her face still looks devastated, you've been enduring the radiating guilt, shame, sadness, and disappointment from the bond all day. The only thing stopping you from kissing the hurt from her face is your own hurt, still aching, but a little less raw.

Mor sets the books down on her bedside table, and you can tell she's not going to let the two of you sleep tonight unless she's said her piece.

As much as you'd rather forget about this day, you know that tensions will only grow if you don't allow her to say whatever it is she wants to say, whatever it is she thinks will make this better.

You pull the covers back, settling on the bed. "Can you hand me my book, Mor?"

"Y/N..." Her voice is quiet. She's still standing, like she's afraid that if she gets too close, you'll run away.

You sigh, looking her in the eyes. You're surprised to see them welling with tears, her bottom lip trembling.

Your face scrunches, and you reach a hand out to her. "Mor, don't cry..." Your voice trails off, confusion lacing your tone.

She crumbles at your outstretched hand, like the acceptance is something she thought she'd lost forever. Like she's relieved that you still want her.

She collapses onto the bed, grabbing your hand, crying in earnest now. "I-I'm so sorry, Y/N, I swear to the gods I d-didn't mean what I s-s-said."

You can hardly understand her, and you run a hand through her hair in an attempt to calm her down.

"Mor, please, you don't have to explain yourself... I just want to move on from this."

That makes her cry harder, she's burying her face in your shoulder, shaking her head in refusal. "No! I d-don't want to move on from this, I want to make it r-right," she hiccups on a sob before continuing, "if you'll let me, p-please."

You sigh, kissing her hairline, urging her to pull back and look at you. "Honestly, Mor, I think it'll just hurt worse if you explain why I'm too clingy. I wish you'd just let us change how this," you gesture between the two of you, "works. No hard feelings that way, really."

Mor's face grows frustrated, her tears spilling down her cheeks rapidly. She sniffles, and grits out, "No. I-I don't want anything to c-change!"

"Mor, reall-"

She cuts you off before you can go on. "Y/N, p-please, just listen to me right now. I know I don't d-deserve it, b-but..."

Seeing her so upset, hearing the heartbreak in her voice, the sight of her red and puffy face from crying so hard, it makes you give in. You nod, signaling to her that she can continue, that you'll listen and you'll try to understand.

You brace yourself for the hurt, for her to explain how she feels suffocated by you, that you're too overbearing, just too clingy. You're ready for her to tell you that she loves you, because you know that she does, but that she just needs some space.

She doesn't, though.

She takes a deep breath in, bringing her hands up to rub at her wet cheeks, closing her eyes and collecting herself for a moment.

"Y/N, I-I have no excuse, for talking about you that way, in front of our friends."

She opens her eyes and looks deep into yours, waiting to see if you're going to stop her. When you make no move to interrupt, she continues.

"I... I am not good at this," she gestures between the both of you, then takes your hand into her own. "I'm not good at... being someone's mate."

You go to stop her, to scold her for thinking that way. She's perfect, the two of you literally made for one another. You'd not change a thing about her, and so far, your relationship had been virtually perfect. But, you swore to listen, so you refrain from stopping her.

"I never thought I'd meet my mate, and... for it to be a woman..." she trails off, and she doesn't have to elaborate on what she means by that. While your friends, your family, have been nothing but accepting and supportive, the same cannot be said for the rest of the world. Generally, Velaris, the Night Court, is open-minded, unfazed by any sort of queerness. And she decided, the moment she met you, she was done hiding her affections for women. She would not hide her mate, both you and her deserved better. But, Mor has seen the worst of other courts, of other people. She's seen terrible things happen to people for not being able to control who they love. She has always, always, been so protective of you, of the relationship the two of you have. It's made her guarded. Even around people she loves and trusts, she finds it difficult to be open and honest about the relationship the two of you have. She's opted for privacy in order to ensure protection. You know that, and it has never bothered you, because of course, you understand it.

"I am still... figuring this all out. How to navigate this, how to be more happy than scared." She pulls your hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to your soft skin. You smile softly at her, and cup her face, stroking her cheek with your thumb, soothing the still reddened skin despite the tears being nearly gone.

She leans into the touch, and again, she takes a deep inhale, like she's in need of being grounded.

"When they asked me today, how things are going... I-I just... I couldn't be honest." Her voice cracks at the end, and you dread having to see her beautiful face in tears again.

"Y/N, I swear to you, everything is perfect."

"Mor..." you sigh, worried she's just trying to make you feel better about all of this, worried she isn't really thinking of what would make her happier.

"No, Y/N, I mean it. Everything about you, about us... it's perfect," she moves to hold your hand to her face with both of hers, turning to press a kiss into your palm.

"I know it shouldn't, because they're our friends, our family... but it made me uncomfortable, the idea of gushing to them about us."

You give her a curious look, but you say nothing.

"It feels like, if anyone knows how perfect this is, how happy we are... someone will rip it away from us, from me."

And that, that breaks your heart. "Oh, Mor..." you coo, sitting up straighter, holding her face in both of your hands now.

"I really, really, really, have no excuse for what I said. You are not too clingy, Y/N. In fact, I sometimes wish we could be even closer."

You huff a small laugh at that, shaking your head and smiling. "Mor, it's okay, really."

She refuses to let you forgive her so easily, though. "It's not okay, baby. You're my mate, you're it for me. The only thing I'll ever want in life. I don't want to hide that, especially not from our friends. You deserve to be spoken about in truth, about how amazing you are, how easy it is to love you, how I miss you every second we aren't together."

It's your turn to tear up now, and you send a flood of love and adoration down the bond.

"I lied to them, because acting like everything isn't perfect was easier than feeling vulnerable. I treated you terribly, and in front of our friends, too... I am so, so sorry, baby."

You feel nothing but love and sincerity from the bond, no sign that she's lying, that she's just saying this to spare your feelings. You believe her, of course. She's poured her heart out to you, she's chosen uncomfortable vulnerability in order to make sure you know how loved you are.

Hearing what she said about you, knowing she said it to your friends too, it hurt. But, you know she's learned from this. You know that she truly feels terrible, and you now know that she thinks your relationship is just as incredible as you do. You hold no anger anymore, and the only thing left to make you sad is how upset your mate still looks.

"Mor, my love, I forgive you, it's alright." You learn forward, until your forehead is resting on hers. Her eyes flutter shut, and she releases a breath she was holding.

"You do?" She whispers.

You kiss her gently in response. "Mor, I forgave you a while ago. I wasn't angry so much as I was hurt."

She grimaces, knowing how badly she hurt you, but you soothe her with another peck to her lips.

"I understand, Mor. I do. I hope that next time, though, you'll just be honest," she nods against you, a promise to do right by you. "Or, if you cannot, I hope that you'll choose to hold off on answering, until you can talk about us."

"Of course, my love, this will never happen again."

You hum, plant a kiss to her forehead, and pull away. "I know it won't, sweetheart. Thank you, for being honest, and for apologizing."

A few seconds pass in comfortable silence, the two of you just enjoying the feeling of being close again.

Then, Mor speaks. "So.... you'll greet me at the door when I come in?" She asks.

"I will, every day, with a kiss." You emphasize your answer with kisses to her cheek, her nose, her lips.

She giggles and pulls away. "And you'll let me help with dinner? And you'll tell me about your day while we eat?"

"Yes, baby."

"And you'll stay up late and cuddle on the couch with me?"

"Hmm, what if I get tired?" You tease.

She pouts at you, but it's in jest. "You'll lay on my chest, and I'll wake you up when it's time to go to bed."

"I suppose that'll work..." a smirk is evident in your voice, and Mor kisses it quickly.

"And you'll cuddle with me in bed, all night?"

"All night."

"And you'll spend snow days outside with me? And take hot baths with me after?"

"I'd love nothing more."

"And you'll always talk to me, if I've done something to upset you? You'll always tell me how you're feeling?"

"I will, Mor, I promise."

She smiles, and wraps her arms around you. She pulls you down to the bed with her, and you nuzzle your face into her neck, planting a kiss to her warm skin. She tugs on your bond, teasing and gentle. A feeling settles over the both of you. It's warm and sweet, the distinct feeling that all is well.

---

They've been incredibly understanding, even reassuring you that you can stay as long as you need every time you mention that you're going to start looking for somewhere else to stay soon. Truthfully, you think they just don't want you to pay for a place to live alone, all too confident that you and Mor will find your way back to one another eventually.

And that's not to say Mor hasn't tried. It wasn't hard to figure out that you'd started saying with the Shadowsinger and the Priestess, and Mor even showed up, trying to persuade them to let her see you, before Azriel very firmly told her no, that you needed time.

Gwyn said Mor asked about you every single day at training. She wanted to know if you were sleeping well, if you were eating enough, if you were ready to talk yet. Gwyn merely nodded at most of her questions, but always refused to answer the last one. When you were ready was entirely up to you, and Gwyn would never say so on your behalf. Gwyn did report back that Mor looked awful, bags under her eyes, sluggish like she hadn't slept or eaten anything. She said that she stayed to herself, showing up to training late and leaving early. She didn't go to family dinners, and Rhys had stopped asking her to patrol because her heart wasn't in it. That always made your chest ache, but you weren't doing any better.

You also found out that a rift had grown between Emerie, Nesta, and Gwyn. And that made you feel guilty. You had never intended to cause something between the three, knowing how deeply they love and admire one another. You apologized several times, but during one evening that Nesta and Cassian had come over for dinner, Nes and Gwyn both explained to you that it wasn't your fault. They said that Emerie had abandoned them, too, and that they were upset with her for interfering in a mated friend's marriage. Again, you tried to apologize, tried to tell them that it didn't have to be that way, but they shot you down.

"I love Emerie, and I'm sure we'll make up, but she messed up, that's all there is to it," Nesta had told you.

"She feels bad about it, I can tell, but she has to work up the courage to make amends. We can't make her do that," Gwyn had replied.

And that was that. But still, you couldn't shake the guilt. Though, a small part of you was thrilled that Mor and Emerie had been staying away from one another.

Your days mostly consisted of reading, paperwork, lunch with Gwyn, cards with Azriel, and dinner with the pair of them, or alone if it was family night. They had offered to stay home and eat with you, but that you adamantly refused. Just because you couldn't stand to be around everyone right now didn't mean you would keep your friends stuck at home, too.

So, while you had an amazing support system, friends that rallied around you and refused to let you go through anything alone, you were still, quite frankly, miserable.

---

During the third week of staying at Gwyn and Azriel's house, you were spending another night alone, cooking a small dinner for just yourself. The pair had just left, and they'd likely not be back for several hours. So, it surprised you when you heard footsteps at the front door, before a gentle knock sounded from the foyer.

You placed the spoon you'd been stirring your pasta sauce with on the counter before making your way to the front, a confused look on your face. As far as you were aware, Gwyn and Az hadn't been expecting anyone to stop by. They would have told you.

Another soft knock makes you walk faster, and you don't think to peek out of the window before you pull the door open.

There, on the front porch, looking sheepish and a bit scared, is Emerie.

You're a bit stunned, and all you can do is gape. The stare obviously makes her uncomfortable, and she looks down at her boots, sniffing a bit before saying, "Hey."

You swallow thickly, making no move to let her into the house. "Gwyn just left, she went to th-"

"I-I'm not here for Gwyn. I came to speak to you, Y/N," Emerie replies, pulling her gaze up to look at you. She looks braced for rejection, but ultimately, you don't hate her, you don't even dislike her. But there are, of course, harsh feelings.

"I don't know that that's a good idea, Emerie..."

"Please, Y/N, I came to explain, to apologize. I-I know why you won't speak to Mor," the sound of your mate's name makes you flinch, but Emerie just continues, "I understand it, I do. But please, at least, just hear me out."

You're silent for a few moments, contemplating how to proceed. You could shut the door in her face, go inside, make your dinner. You could keep looking at apartment listings, make a plan to move the rest of your stuff out of your and Mor's once shared home. You could avoid your mate like the plague. You could never see Emerie again. You could keep ditching family dinners, live a life of loneliness. You had always been so stubborn, so determined. Even if it was about making your own life a living Hell.

Or, you could let Emerie inside. You could hear her out. Let her convince you to reach out to your wife, to go home.

You sigh, you step aside, and you pull the door open wider. "I was just making dinner. Do you like pesto?"

---

You and Emerie share a quiet dinner, bowls of pasta and glasses of wine consumed with little conversation. When you're both finished, you take the dishes and rinse them in the sink. Wordlessly, Emerie cleans up the ingredients you had laid around the kitchen, and you're reminded that she's been here before, several times. Gwyn is her best friend, and you're not the only one here that's lost someone important.

When the kitchen is tidy, you make your way towards the living room, gesturing for Emerie to follow.

"I suppose this is the part where we talk, huh?"

Emerie nods, sitting in the chair closest to the fireplace while you sit on the edge of the couch.

Again, silence fills the room. But eventually, Emerie clears her throat and begins. "I think that first, I just need to apologize." She shifts so her body is facing you, she makes eye contact even though you can tell she feels a bit embarrassed. "I am so, so sorry for how I interfered with your marriage. I never had any intentions of breaking the two of you up, I truly hope you can believe me. I-I feel like I've done something... awful, and I am just... I-I'm so sorry."

You dip your head, trying not to cry. "Thank you, Emerie. I... I believe you."

She sighs, like she was expecting you to call her a liar, to kick her out. But you can tell that she's sincere, and you know her well enough that you don't think she'd ever want to or try to be a homewrecker. That just isn't her intent.

"And Emerie, truthfully... I don't want you to feel so awful."

She looks at you, confused, but before she can speak, you continue.

"Mor neglected me as a mate, as a wife. Yes, you encouraged her, certainly, but Mor chose to do what she did all on her own. You can't shoulder the blame for our failed relationship when it was her responsibility."

Emerie nods, but that guilt still paints her face. "I can't... I know it's not my place, to give you any sort of relationship advice..." She trails off and looks at you, anticipating you cutting her off, but you don't. "But Mor, she's... she's miserable. She doesn't talk to me anymore, and I don't blame her. Not many people do." And that statement breaks your heart a bit. You truly feel guilty that Emerie, likely more than you do, feels so lonely. "But I can just tell. She isn't sleeping, or eating, the only time she speaks is to ask someone about you. She.. she loves you, Y/N, adores you. You're the only person she'll ever want."

"It sure would've been nice if she had treated me that way the past few months," you spit out, your bitterness revealing itself.

Emerie flinches, but she doesn't disagree. "You're right, and I imagine she hates herself for it. A-And I know you probably don't want to hear this from me, but I never, ever had any romantic feelings for her. What I felt for Mor was strictly platonic, I swear to you. And never once did I get even the slightest idea that she felt anything beyond friendship for me. I would not lie to you about that."

And though you had tried to hold them in, the tears start falling anyway. You sniffle, quickly swiping your cheeks with the back of your hand.

"I don't know what do, then. I want to believe you, Emerie. But Gods, the way she treated me, made me feel. I can't ever go through that again."

Emerie nods, understanding and compassionate. "I know, Y/N, I know."

For a few beats, the room is silent save for your sniffling and the crackling of the fire.

"I... I'm going to stay away from her. I had already decided that when I heard about what happened between the two of you, but you should know... if it'll help convince you to reach out to her... I won't ever be a problem again. I'm going to stay away, I swear it."

You scoff. "And what happens when another female comes around to woo her? Again Emerie, I appreciate you coming here, but the problem lies with Mor. And anyway, I'd never ask you to not be friends with her. If you say friendship is all that it was, then I believe you."

"Yes, she is my friend, and I know how devastated she is to have lost you. So if it takes me staying away, so be it. I'll do it. And as far as other females go... Y/N... she would never, ever cheat on you. Do you know how much she loves you?"

You don't get a chance to respond before she continues. "You're all she ever talked about. In the mornings, she'd talk about how pretty you looked when she woke up, how she couldn't wait to see you later. When we'd be at the shop, she'd constantly talk about your studies, your work, how proud she is of you, how you've been working so damn hard. And that night... at dinner... she was telling me about how she missed you, and she was starting to get worried, because you were never late, and you never left without telling her where you were going."

Emerie's details make you start crying harder, quiet sobs shaking your shoulders as you keep trying to wipe the blurriness from your eyes.

"I-I don't know what to do," you cry, embarrassed to be so vulnerable in front of her.

Emerie stands from her chair, she moves to be beside you. Her hand falls to your shoulder, and she squeezes. "Please, just.. just hear her out. For both of your sakes."

You don't answer, and Emerie pulls her hand away. "I know you have a lot to think about, so I'll go. Again, I'm sorry for my part." She begins making her way to the front of the house, but stops to add one more thing. "Thank you... for the dinner... and for hearing me out." Then she lets herself out the front door.

---

You spent a few days mulling Emerie's words over, coming to terms with what you wanted to do. She had convinced you to talk to Mor, to try to work things out, but you just didn't know how to proceed. How to forgive and move on.

Eventually, you decided you'd speak to her at home. You wouldn't confront her in public, not when emotions are as heightened as they are. And you didn't want to invite her to Gwyn and Azriel's house, even though they would have no issue with it, you didn't want to impose on their home anymore than you already had. And truthfully, you wanted to see your house again. You wanted to be able to return to it one day.

And so, after days of contemplating, talking relentlessly with Gwyn and Az, losing sleep from the anxiety, you've finally decided to show up at your house, where you know Mor is currently at, if the candle glow from the windows were any indication.

Your hands tremble with nerves, your stomach doing flips. You debate knocking, but shake your head at the idea. This is still your house, anyway. If you keep thinking like it isn't, it'll be harder for you to see a way forward with Mor, and that's not why you came here.

However, you don't want to scare her, so you do softly rap on the wood before pushing the door open, softly closing it behind you.

You hear gentle footsteps sound from the living room, but you make no move to meet her, your nerves keeping you firmly planted in the foyer.

She stops in her tracks when she rounds the corner, and your heart sinks when you take in her form. Her hair is a mess, pulled back in a knot, some loose tangles plastered to her sweaty skin. She looks pale, her eyes bruised and sunken in. A blanket is wrapped around her shoulders, and she's dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She brings a shaky hand to her mouth that's fallen open, clearly shocked to see her wife has come home.

"Y/N?" she asks, her voice quiet and broken, like she's hardly been using it.

"Mor..."

And then she's bursting into tears, her shoulders shaking, her chest heaving as she struggles to breathe.

"Oh, Mor..." you sigh, rushing forward, grabbing her by her forearms and pulling her into the living room. You set her down on the couch, then fetch her a glass of water from the kitchen, urging her to drink it before she has a full blown panic attack.

When she comes down a bit, she sets the glass on the table, then brings her teary eyes up to look at you. "Are you h-here to get the rest of your stuff?" Her voice is muffled from her tears, her throat raw. "Did you come to... to e-e-end it o-officially?" She stutters over her words, the panic creeping up on her again.

You shake your head, sitting next to her on the couch, but keeping a bit of distance between the two of you. "No, Mor. I came to talk."

Her head whips to the side, her face in shock. Clearly, she hadn't expected you to ever hear her out. "To talk?" she asks, like she can't quite believe what's happening.

You nod. "Emerie... she came and... explained things a few days ago. She told me to hear you out... she said you're not doing well."

Mor shrugs, but she doesn't respond, like she doesn't really care about her physical and mental health. The thought stabs at your gut.

"Mor.. I-I'm done running from this. You're my mate. My wife. As hurt as I am... I've been wrong, to stay away from you for so long. So for that, I apologize. But I just... I needed tim-"

"You don't have to apologize, Y/N, please. I know why you left."

You don't argue with her, but still, you feel guilty for your part in your separation. "But still, I'm sorry."

Mor says nothing for a few tense beats, she just sniffles and wipes at her eyes.

"Can.. can we fix this, Y/N? Please? I can't... I can't lose you. Not for good. Not forever. I-I can't," Mor starts crying again, gentle, silent tears. "I won't survive it. I love you, Y/N. Please, let me try and fix this."

You reach a shaky hand out, placing it on her shoulder. "That's why I came here, Mor, to try and fix things. I came here to talk. But I think that you're the one that needs to explain things, not me."

Mor reaches her hand up to sit on top of yours. She releases a deep breath, clearly relieved to hear that you want things to work out.

"I have to start by saying I'm sorry. I'm so, so fucking sorry, Y/N."

Her words bring fresh tears to your eyes, and you try to keep them from spilling over, though it's useless.

"So why, Mor?" your voice cracks, but you keep going. "Why did you.. treat me like that? I-I want to understand."

She shakes her head. "There's nothing to understand. It was wrong, stupid, awful of me. I neglected you, I made you feel like I wasn't in love with you anymore... and even if you can forgive me, I'll never forgive myself for that."

A few more beats of silence, then Mor continues. "I want you to know, Y/N, that you're perfect for me. What you said that night... about us being mates... about it being wrong" she shakes her head like the thought disturbs her, like she's trying to rid herself of the memory. "That's not true. We belong together. I have never wished you were different. I have never wanted you to be more like Emerie, if that's what you had been thinking."

And she's right, that's exactly what you had convinced yourself she wanted. It had hurt beyond belief, but the ache lessons hearing Mor so sincerely tell you otherwise.

"I just... it had been so long since I had made a true friend, outside of the family. I have Feyre, but she's Rhys' mate before she's my friend, and she's been so busy lately, with her growing family."

"Were you not... were you not happy being my friend and my lover?" you whisper, always prepared to face the fact that you couldn't give Mor everything she needed.

She turns her whole body to face you, her features crumpling in devastation and shock.

"What?! Gods no, Y/N, no, that's not it at all. You're my best friend, and my wife. But we're not together all of the time... we.. we have our differences. Ones that I have never, ever wished didn't exist. It was just nice, to have Emerie, to have someone to talk weapons with, someone that could keep up with me in training, someone that understands what it's like to be a warrior and a female."

You could never fault her for that. Mor, after having gone through so much, deserved a friend she could relate to more than anyone.

"I... I understand that, Mor, I do. What I don't understand is why... or how she became more important than me. Than us." Your tone is firm, straight to the point.

Mor shudders, she squeezes her eyes shut in shame. "She never was. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I swear that no one has ever been more important to me than you, no relationship more important than our marriage."

You're reminded of Emerie telling you how Mor always talked about you, bragged about you, asked about you. You find yourself believing her, your anger slowly ebbing away.

"I got way too caught up in having fun with her, in being able to relate to her. It made me abandon you, neglect our relationship, and again, I am so sorry, baby."

The nickname tugs at your heart, the ease of slipping back into it.

Through tears and a shaky voice, you ask, "When you saw me... when you would come home at night, it felt like all you really needed me for was sex. Do you know how badly that hurt, Mor? To know that after you slept with me, we were going to wake up just for me to be alone again while you spent the day with her?"

Mor cries out, both of her hands coming to rest on your legs. "Gods, Y/N, I'll never forgive myself for making you feel that way. You were the only one on my mind, all day every day. When we made love, I was entirely there, with you. I missed you, every day, even if it was my own fault, I missed you. I just... I wanted to show you how badly I did, how much I loved you, through being intimate. I didn't realize what kind of message I was sending, and I'm so fucking sorry. You're so much more to me than sex, baby, you know that. I love you, I love you, I love you," then she brings one of your hands up to her mouth, planting a kiss to the smooth skin.

You take deep breaths to steady the overwhelming emotions, but the tears remain constant. Her words soothe your anxieties to some degree, but the hurt isn't entirely gone.

"I forgive you, Mor, but I don't know what to do, how to proceed."

Mor's breath catches in her throat, and she doesn't breathe for a few seconds. Eventually, she inhales, shakily, then speaks with a wavering voice. "I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you, Y/N, please give me the chance to prove to you, again, that you're perfect for me, the only person I'll ever need. Please, baby."

She sounds terrified, and you feel a bit guilty, because you hadn't meant to imply that you weren't sure if you'd able to continue being mated to her. Just that you weren't sure how to go from here, how to keep working on making this better.

"I-I don't want to... divorce.. or.. Gods forbid, break the bond, Mor, I don't." Mor shudders with relief, her shoulders relaxing, her hands start shaking a bit less.

"But, we can't just go back to before... we can't act like nothing happened. Things have to change."

"I understand, Y/N, I do. Tell me what you want from me, and I'll do it."

You huff a laugh at her eagerness, your tears finally ceasing to roll down your cheeks. You wipe your face with the back of your hand, but keep the other intertwined with Mor's.

"Well, first, I need to move back in, I guess."

Mor nods rapidly, "Yes, yes, please. I'll help you get your things. Come home, tonight, I can't stand being here without you."

You give her a soft smile, one that she returns. "Okay, we can do that."

She kisses your hand again, rubbing along your knuckles with her thumb.

"But, I don't think..." Mor looks at you expectantly, urging you to continue your train of thought. You clear your throat and begin again. "I-I don't think I'm ready for us to be.. intimate.. again. I-I'm sorry, I just need time, and I nee-"

"Don't apologize, Y/N, it's not necessary and I don't deserve it." Her voice is stern, and it shuts you up immediately. "I told you that you're not just sex, baby. I'll wait as long as you need. All I want is you, back home, with me, in whatever capacity you'll have me."

You nod, a bit stunned by how sincere she is, and relieved that she isn't upset with your decision.

"And, things have to be different. You have to spend time with me again, Mor. I won't be treated like that again." She nods while you talk, and it makes you grow more confident as you assert your needs. "Mornings belong to us again, and you'll speak to me, read with me, before we go to bed. You'll go into town with me, we'll go on dates several times a week, and we'll sit together at family dinner, every single time." Mor's smile grows, like she's proud of you for your demands, demands she would never dream of protesting, demands she craves, too. "You'll speak to me when you see me, you'll kiss me hello and goodbye, you'll ask me how my day was and you'll tell me about yours, even if it's something you think I can't relate to." Mor hums, she nods, she says, "Of course, my love," but you're not done yet. "You're my wife, Mor, my mate. But you're my best friend, too. You'll have to treat me as such again, if this is going to work."

Mor wastes no time agreeing. "Yes, to all of it, a million times, yes. I was a fool for not doing those things these past few months, it's a mistake that will never happen again, I promise you, Y/N." She leans in, and when you don't pull away, she presses a soft kiss to your lips. It feels like coming home, like everything falling back into place. She pulls back, cupping your cheeks with both of her hands. She stares into your eyes, an act of intimacy you can't, won't shy away from. "I'd do anything for you, give you anything, all the time in the world, if you wanted it. I love you, Y/N, and I'll forever be grateful for you, for this second chance you've given me."

You grin, then it's your turn to kiss her. "I believe you, Mor, I really do."

---

"S'fine," you shrug, a bit embarrassed that others had began to notice your mate's affections for another female.

Gwyn shakes her head. "It's not," she says, reaching her hand out to grab your own. She pulls you up and places a hand on your shoulder. "I'm done for the day, how about we go into town before dinner? We could go to the bookstore?"

You glance behind her, where Mor hasn't even turned to look at you or made her way over to say hello, and then you nod. "Yes, I think I'd quite like that."

---

"She adores you, Y/N, I think she's just forgotten how it's like to make a new, true friend, you know?" Gwyn says, taking a sip from the hot tea she'd ordered from the bookstore cafe.

Your eyes roam the shelves in the Fantasy section, your iced coffee clutched in your hand. "I never see her anymore, and when I do, it's when we're getting ready for bed, or she's about to leave in the morning, or I see her when we're all in a group. And even then, it's like she's not even with me."

Gwyn hums, then grabs a book with an emerald green cover, a dragon illustrated on the front. She flips it over to skim the back. "It is pretty shitty, I'm not denying that. But I don't believe it's because she loves you any less than she always has."

You shrug. "I don't know what to do anymore. The only time it even feels like we're in a relationship is when she wants to have sex."

Gwyn's head snaps up. "That's just wrong! I'm sorry she's making you feel this way. You deserve better. Have you tried talking to her about it?"

You shake your head, and try to stop the tears welling in your eyes. "No, I haven't. I don't know how."

Gwyn reaches out and rubs your arm gently. "You're one of my best friends, Y/N, we'll figure it out together."

You smile at her, a pure, genuine smile, something you hadn't done in weeks. "Thank you, Gwyn."

She returns the affection, then hands you the book she'd pulled. "This sounds like something you'd enjoy."

---

You and Gwyn spent hours at the bookstore, browsing and reading. Gwyn had been right, the book she'd found was exactly what you enjoyed, and you two read your new books, hers being an obscene romance title, for a while at an outdoor table, sipping your drinks and sharing a few slices of lemon cake.

You two also discussed how you'd confront Mor, and when. It was decided that you'd ask her about it tonight, before bed. You'd remain calm, and you'd try not to cry. You would avoid an argument, and you'd explain how you'd feel. It was a good plan. A solid one, that you hoped would work.

You two decided to leave as the sun began to set, knowing you'd be late for dinner at this rate, but you wouldn't miss it entirely.

You could hear your friends laughing and drinking as you arrived back at the house, and as you and Gwyn slipped your shoes off, you heard Cassian call, "There they are!" before him and Azriel came into the hallway.

Azriel smiled at Gwyn, bending to plant a sweet kiss to her lips before pulling her along to the dining room, where a full meal awaited her. You grinned at them, beyond excited that they'd finally accepted their mating bond.

Cassian clapped you on the back, smelling strongly of wine, and pushed you into the room as well. Instantly, your eyes fell to Mor. She was sat next to Emerie, who was sat in the seat you usually occupied. Instantly, your smile vanished. Gwyn met your gaze and rolled her eyes, shrugging, as if to say, "Screw them."

Your lower lip trembled at the small betrayal, but you swore to yourself that you weren't going to cry. Rather than take a seat at the table, you made your way to the kitchen to grab a glass of wine.

As you poured, you heard the door swing open behind you, but you didn't care enough to look.

"Where've you been today?" Mor asks, curiosity lacing her tone. Usually, you told Mor about your every move. Mostly because she worried when she didn't know where you were, and you liked the idea of someone caring about what you were doing.

You still didn't turn around, filling your glass nearly to the brim before setting the bottle down and taking a deep sip.

"I went to town," is your curt reply, cold and to the point.

You hear her take a few more steps towards you, but before she can reach you, you spin away from her and head towards the door, straight back to the dining room where you take an empty seat beside Gwyn, across the table and on the other end from where Mor and Emerie have taken seats.

Mor enters shortly after, looking confused, and she stares at you a long while when she notices that you'd sat as far from her as possible. You refuse to make eye contact, instead, you focus on making yourself a plate of the dinner Feyre and Elain had made. It smelled divine, and you were starved.

Conversation remained light, and mostly, you could tune out Emerie and Mor's voices, whatever conversation they were having. Gwyn, bless her, spoke to you nearly the entire time. She was a great friend, and a welcomed distraction.

When everyone began to clear their plates and put stuff away, you instantly went to the door after cleaning your mess. Usually, you and Mor would hang out for a while, then make your way home together. Without fail, nighttime was reserved for one another.

You waited by the door for a while, growing impatient and nearly ready to just leave Mor behind and wait for her at home, when she came around the corner.

"Hey," she says, furrowing her eyebrows at the sight of you all ready to leave.

"Are you ready?" Is how you respond, again, cold and to the point.

Mor rolls her eyes, confused and a bit agitated. "Well, actually, Emerie wants me to come to the shop tonight and work with her, I just wanted to let you know."

Cold dread washes over your body, your heart dropping. Once again, Mor is choosing Emerie over you, and once again, you're convinced that she wishes Emerie was her mate and not you.

"Are you serious right now?" You whisper, voice angry and brittle.

Mor says nothing, just looks at you with a questioning glare.

You laugh, humorless and bitter. You throw your hands up. "Well, Mor, you just have the most fun, and how about you stay there tonight, since you're so fond of her, hmm?"

So much for not starting an argument.

Mor recoils. "Excuse me?" she grits out, beyond offended.

"You heard me. Stay with her tonight, let's stop pretending like you don't prefer her to me," you spit, your voiced hushed as you're aware of all of your friends just in the next room over.

Mor shakes her head. "You cannot be serious right now," she glares at you like you've gone mad. "So, you're jealous?" she asks, and you don't respond. She scoffs, "I thought you were better than that."

And that, to you, is the nail in the coffin. You can't help the tears that well and spill over your cheeks. You look at her, you shake your head in disappointment, then you pull open the front door and leave.

---

You made it back home in record time, in case Mor did decide to come home, you didn't really want to face her. You slam the front door shut behind you, and in the privacy of your living room, you let loose a sob.

For weeks she'd been neglecting you, ditching you, spending more time with Emerie than her own mate. Her wife. She'd started giving the time of her day always dedicated to you, to someone else. She was never home. She hardly acknowledged whenever you were in the same place as her, and when she was home, it was to have sex, then sleep, then repeat. It hurt. And you couldn't take it anymore. You could feel the bond pulled taut between the two of you, and you closed yourself off from it entirely so that you could try to forget it even existed.

You're in your bedroom, still crying, when you hear the front door open. Mor.

She calls your name, sounding beyond frustrated. When she can't find you anywhere, she goes upstairs, and throws open the bedroom door.

When she barges in, her eyes land on your form, sat on the bed, head in your hands.

"What the fuck has gotten into you?"

Your head shoots up. "Me? What's gotten into me? I'm not the one falling in love with another woman!" Your voice is shaky, and your hands tremble as you take Mor in, her hands on her hips as she paces the room.

"Are you nuts? Emerie is my friend! I cannot believe you're acting like this out of jealousy!" She shakes her head like she's disappointed, like she's scolding a child for bad behavior.

You stand up, but you don't approach her. "And what about your mate?!" you roar, pointing a finger at her. "What about the female you married, the female you never fucking see anymore? Huh?"

Mor looks taken aback by your sudden shift from sadness to rage. "We've been bus-"

"DON'T! Don't give me that shit!" You bring a hand up to wipe furiously at the tears on your cheeks. "You're the one that's been busy with another female, I've been here, the whole fucking time, waiting for my mate to act like she's still in love with me!"

Mor flinches like she's been struck. "You can't be serious! Of course I'm in love with you Y/N, and I have seen you, every night I come home an-"

"And you fuck me then go to sleep, so you can wake up and see Emerie again." You spit, knowing it's a low blow, but that it's also true, and a cruel part of you wants to hurt her the way she's been hurting you.

Mor pales, her jaw clenches and her hands begin to sake with barely controlled anger. "We have never, ever, just fucked, and you know that. How dare you? How dare you act like every time we're together it doesn't mean something more than that?" Her voice cracks at the end, and it surprises you, that she'd start crying over this too.

"Do you think about her when we have sex?" You know you're just antagonizing her, but truly, you're convinced that you're not the female she's in love with anymore.

Mor's eyes widen, and she snarls before marching towards you. "Don't you ever fucking say something like that again! I have never not shown you that I'm in love with you!" She's in your face, and her angry tears are spilling from her eyes.

You push past her and make your way to the closet door, needing to put distance between the two of you.

"No, you've just started spending your entire days and evenings with her, only coming home to have sex with me then leave before I wake up. You've only been dedicating your time spent with me to her and her workshop, our breakfast dates to training sessions with her. You've been neglecting to ask me about my day and how I've been so that you can tell me all about your day with her. You've just been ignoring me when I'm in the same room as you two, because you're clearly having too much fun with her to be bothered. And you've started giving her my seat at the dinner table, because rather than find out where I am, you'd rather have her fill my place."

Mor's dead silent, staring at you from across the room. Her tears are still dripping, her hand is clenched into a fist and her other hand has come up to cover her mouth.

"All I've wanted these past few weeks is your attention. Your love. And no matter what I do, I can't seem to get it. But... but Emerie has no problem." You pause and take a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. "So, no, Mor. Maybe you've not exactly shown me that you're not in love with me, but you have shown me that you're falling in love with someone else."

She chokes on a sob. "No, Gods, no, baby. No. Never could I love anyone else."

You're crying again, and you choke on a sob mixed with a bitter laugh. "I-I think that you want to believe that. Mor, I've always known that I'm not right for you, mates or not, I think you know it too."

You turn and open the closet door, entering the small space and grabbing one of your larger bags. Mor walks in after you.

"T-That is not fucking true!" She blubbers, heaving deep breaths as she watches you pack some of your clothes.

"B-Baby, s-stop," she tries to plead, but you ignore her, and shake her hand off when she tries to grab your arm. You've just been grabbing things at random, but you need to get out of this house, now, so you can only hope that you've grabbed enough pants, shirts, dresses, and pairs of bras and underwear to actually last you a while.

You storm out of the closet and head into the bathroom to grab toiletries. Again, you grab at random, hardly able to see through your tears. And, of course, Mor follows.

"Y/N, p-please stop, we can talk about this, plea-"

You whirl around. "I've said all I needed to say! I'm done, Mor. I'm done."

Mor cries harder, looking down at the floor in utter devastation. The sound of her sobs breaks your heart even more than it already has, and you resist the urge to comfort her, to tell her it's okay, that you two can move on.

Reentering the bedroom, you throw the bag on the bed so that you can zip it up. Mor trails after you, and watches as the love of her life gets ready to leave her.

"Baby, please, I-I love you, so fucking much. I'm sorry, I-I'm so, so sorry," she can hardly get it out from how hard she's crying, and you know that if you turn around, you'll break. So you focus on sliding your bag up your arm and putting your shoes on. When you're ready, you make for the bedroom door, and you practically run down the stairs, eager to get away from the heartbreak tainting the house that was meant to be your home.

Again, Mor grabs your arm before you can open the front door. "Please don't leave, let me make this right," her voice is a whisper, muffled from the congestion caused by her crying.

You close your eyes, you don't turn to look at her. "I love you, Mor, I always will," you hear Mor's breath catch as she waits for you to finish, as she hopes that you'll relent, that you'll put the bag down and take her into your arms and let her explain and apologize and let her change so that she never hurts you again. But you meant what you said, when you told her that you couldn't do it anymore. "But I'm done. I-I'm sorry."

And with that, you're ripping the door open, and leaving into the night.

---