The First Heir
Feyre Elisabeta Charlotte Amalia Archeron, the third daughter and youngest child of Lord Broderick Archeron and Lady Estele Wentworth, had died when she was nineteen years old after she had had her neck snapped by Amarantha, the so called High Queen of Prythian, who had held the Seven Courts in her hands for a terrifying five decades.
Resurrected by the High Lords and placed into the body of an High Fae, Feyre, who had been in a relationship with High Lord Tamlin of the Spring Court, suffered from nightmares and her own unimaginable powers.
It had been during her time Under The Mountain, Amarantha's 'Court', that Feyre had met Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, who had made a bargain with a Mortal Feyre - that in exchange for his help during her Three Trials, she would come to the Night Court for two weeks every month - which had left the youngest Archeron with a tattoo on her arm.
Suffering at the hands of Tamlin and being remade with the help of Rhysand, Feyre had come into a Mating Bond with the Lording of the Night, and in doing so had become the High Lady to the Night Court - the most powerful of the Seven Courts. With
Learning that Amarantha was merely a pawn for the King of Hybern - an individual who was evil incarnate and hellbent on ruling both Hybern and Prythian - Feyre had once again gone willing into the hands of the man who had isolated her within Rosehall and in doings so had met the niece of nephew to the Hybern King - Dagdan and Brannagh - killing them in preparation for fleeing the Spring Court in which she helped destroy.
After the King of Hybern had been killed, by the combined efforts of Nesta and Elain Archeron - Feyre's older sisters - Prythian rejoiced and the Courts were able to enjoy a time of peace -for however small a time that might be.
When preparing for the War, Feyre had gone to the Prison and met the Bone Carver - who after being given a gift by the High Lady - revealed to her that she would be a gifted a son and what the youngest Archeron had assumed to be the long awaited heir to the Night Court.
Nearly three hundred and fifty years following her Mortal death and rebirth as an Immortal, Feyre had finally conceived her first child; this is that child's story.
House of Wind, Velaris, Court of Dreams, Night Court
Feyre Archeron cried in pain as her body lurched forward, her swelling stomach prominent as the High Lady lounged against a mountain of goose feather and silk pillows, propped against a dark colored wooden headboard carved in intricate designs of falling stars and crescent moons - a homage to the Night Court - as she began to experience the discomfort of childbirth.
Feyre gripped the hands on the occupants on either side of her bed, Rhysand and Morrigan - her mate and his cousin.
As she was breathing through the pain on the advice of Madja, the Royal Family's Healer, Feyre couldn't help but think that her sisters should be by her side - helping her through the pain and whispering words of encouragement as she went through childbirth - but they were gone from Velaris, from the Night Court, all together.
Nesta, fierce, cold, and regal Nesta, had been banished to Illyria on the orders of Feyre - who had seen her sister losing herself to alcohol and men - believing that Nesta would better in the frigid Illyrian Mountains with the Male she did not want to be around with - Cassian - the General of the Night Court's Armies and Nesta's suspected mate.
Memories
Ordering her sister to leave, Feyre had hoped that Nesta would train with Cassian to control her deadly powers, and Rhysand had secretly been planning to use Nesta's dangerous abilities, stolen from the Cauldron, to use if his rule was ever tested again.
But sending Nesta to Illyria was the worst mistake that Feyre could have ever made.
In response to Rhysand's half-blooded status and his lack of interest in the lives of Illyrians - causing thousands to die in a war - and the fact that his ancestors had forced the Warrior Race into slavery, rebellions were raised and the Illyrian People were determined to have their independence away from the reckless High Lord and High Lady.
Nesta was the catalyst that broke the delicate back holding the Illyrians in place.
Cassian, once loyal to Rhysand, found solace in Nesta, and the two waged a civil war against the Night Court - effortless destroying any armies that Rhysand had planned - as Cassian had served in the Inner Circle for nearly five hundred years.
In the end Nesta and Cassian had become King and Queen - being the first true Illyrian Monarchs in nearly two thousand years. With this Nesta had broken the bond of sisterhood with Feyre, and the two had not spoken in over three hundred years.
Then there was Elain. Sweet, gentle, kind Elain who preferred growing her flowers and standing out under the sun. Her sister who had been forced into the Cauldron, her sister who was engaged to a Mortal man by the name of Grayson, her sister who was so innocent and kind that the Cauldron had gifted with the ability of a Seer.
A Seer. Among the rarest of talents and thought to be extinct, having not been seen in hundreds of years, but while this gift had helped the Night Court during wartime it had also left Elain feeling insane, and her sisters had even brought healers to look into their sister's mental health.
However, Elain's trust in Rhysand and Feyre had been broken when Elain had begun a fledgling relationship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, but their love was forbidden when Rhysand had feared that Elain's Cauldron Bonded Mate - Lucien Vanserra - the illegitimate son of the High Lord of the Day Court - would issue a blood duel for the hand of the middle Archeron.
Believing that her sister would eventually fall in love with her Mate, Feyre had placed limitations on where Elain could go and frequently encouraged her sister to spend time with Lucien - despite the High Lord and High Lady promising Elain that she would always have a choice in choosing who she had wanted to spend her life.
It was on a cold December night, four days before Feyre's birthday, when Elain's had finally snapped and a new power - one thought to be ancient and a legend - had roared its head. Dragonfyre. Belonging to the winged creatures that once soared the Prythian skies, but were hunted to extinction, the Dragonfyre burned hotter then even the Autumn Court's flames.
Elain's had burned right through the bond between her and Lucien. She had Winnowed out of Velaris, and there had been no sign of the middle Archeron for over three hundred years.
House of Wind. Velaris, Court of Dreams, Night Court
Feyre was snapped out of her reverie when an incomprehensible amount of pain ripped through her exhausted body, and she cried out - hoping that it would relieve any amount of the pain that was racking through her very bones - as she could feel the beginnings of her child preparing to exit her womb.
"Push, High Lady, push!" Madja's voice suddenly pierced through the haze.
With all her might, Feyre Cauldron-Blessed, Defender of the Rainbow, pushed out the child that had slept in her womb for nearly sixteen months. The long awaited heir to the Night Court, the son that the Bone Carver had promised, the son that Feyre had seen in a vision.
Finally, after hundreds of years of tragedy from the death of her parents, the abuse of a man who claimed to love her, the death and resurrection of her mate, the estrangement of her sisters, a cry of displeasure ripped through the air and all the pain in Feyre's body was suddenly gone.
"He's here, Rhysand!" Feyre cried, joy evident on her face and tears streaking down her flushed cheeks. "Our son is here!" she rejoiced.
Rhysand pecked her lips and rested his forehead against her's. "Our son, our heir. At long last he is here,"
Mor stared longingly at the couple, a bitter smile on her painted red lips, as she thought off the empty hallway that should have been filled with the babe's aunts and uncles.
"Madja, is he okay?" Feyre asked the healer.
A silence permeated throughout the room, and Madja turned to look at her High Lady, the babe swaddled in her arms, and a head of dark hair peeking through the dark blue blanket embroidered with stars.
"What is it?" questioned Morrigan.
"My Lady," Madja began. "It is a girl,"
The End