I knew it was bound to happen eventually. Surrounded by the new walls in this estate, after growing so familiar with Rhys's old room—my old room, at the House of Wind; a part of me knew the new surroundings might trigger the nightmares to return. Even if over a decade had passed, a part of me was, and would probably always be haunted by the events that had taken place Under the Mountain. At first, I dreamt of stabbing myself in the heart, as I had the young male and female fae. Over the years the nightmares evolved, sometimes as gory and painful as it had been to actually live through it, and other times an array of images would pass through my mind in a panic—as if I were living through it all at once in a matter of seconds. Images of blood, Amarantha, the knife in my blood-soaked hands—of Rhys. Of Rhys's pained face as he desperately tried to get to me during Amarantha's attack, wielding a knife of his own. Tonight, in particular, those flashing images conjured up old and ancient feelings of panic in me that I had not experienced since I was newly Made; since my time in the Spring Court. Since before I learned Rhys was my mate; before I overcame that overwhelming despair that had threatened to drown me. The nightmares hadn't stirred those emotions in over a decade, but tonight was different.

I jolted awake in a cold sweat, my skin clammy and stomach roiling at the particularly violent images of my blood-soaked hands and Rhys's panicked and desperate face still lingering as I tried to discern reality from dream. I silently thanked the Cauldron that Rhys wasn't with me as I made a mad dash for the bathing room attached to our suite. I barely made it to the toilet as I vomited up the dinner, and probably the entirety of my stomach contents from the day before, I had with Mor. My eyes burned as the wave intensified, reminding me of those days in the Spring Court, a couple of sobs escaping between my heaves.

Breathe

You're free. We're free. And safe

Just breathe

As the wave of nausea finally began to pass, and the heaving stopped, I took a few deep breaths as Rhys guided me through our bond. Nerves settled, I flushed the toilet and stood slowly. Once I was confident I wouldn't sway on my feet, I padded over to the sink, rinsing my mouth out thoroughly. Sighing deeply once again, I smiled softly as I felt those familiar dark-shadowed talons caress my mental shields before lowering them and allowing Rhys in.

Hello Feyre darling

My smile widened. I'm alright, just another bad dream

Must have been a bad one. Your nightmares haven't caused you to puke your guts up in years.

It's because I'm alone in this big house without you.

I felt his dark laugh reverberate through the bond. I knew I couldn't blame him for performing his duties as the High Lord of the Night Court, particularly in matters of the Illyrian sort. He, Cassian, and Azriel were duty-bound to attend and oversee the Blood Rite of their novice-warriors. As High Lord, commander of armies, and spymaster, the trio of Illyrians had taken it upon themselves to attend the ceremonies before would-be warriors were sent off to fend for themselves and survive in the mountains. Previously, they had only attended the ceremonies at the beginning and end of the blood rite on the first and last day, but this year they decided to stay the week to welcome, congratulate, and perform all ceremonial rights for the survivors and new Illyrian warriors.

Though it had only been three days since they left, it was the longest Rhys and I had been apart since before the war with Hybern. The first couple of years after the war had been a hard period of adjustment, and while there were still days where I only saw Rhys first thing in the morning and not again until right before bed, over the last decade we had managed to make more time for each other. Especially after our first Winter Solstice together, after coming to the decision that we would try and conceive the firstborn the bone-carver had once shown me, we always found time to spend together—just the two of us. Perhaps that was the real reason why my despairing nightmares had returned. Perhaps it was simply because I missed him, his warmth as we lay entangled in our sheets—our new sheets in this estate I built for us, our family.

The estate Rhys had given me—us, really, had taken a little longer to remodel than I had originally hoped. He had told me to build a painting studio for myself, a room for each member of our inner circle, including my sisters...including the would-be son we had yet to conceive. I worked on the nursery first; once I had officially shifted all my focus on the estate-building project, it was all I could think about. The art studio I opened in the Rainbow, with Ressina, was beginning to flourish and after countless days of watching fae children heal from their trauma the war caused, I wanted nothing more than to prepare the nursery for my future child—as a form of my own healing process.

But as time passed, and my cycles returned at their regular intervals, I shifted my focus from the nursery to the rest of our estate. As an attempt to distract myself from it, I made sure to create the perfect space for every member of our inner circle. Everyone had their own living quarters, allowing them to freely stay or leave at their leisure. Cassian and Azriel were delighted to have their own space; though the former was more vocal about it, I knew Az was glad to have a place of solace—especially since space was so limited at our townhouse. The two Illyrians were especially pleased with the training grounds in the back of the estate, past the gardens. Rhys had the most influence over that aspect of the estate, since the trio used the space so frequently.

Mor was especially ecstatic to have a new room—an upgrade she called it, with an abundance of closet space which allowed her to show off her multiple pieces of fashion from the various courts of Prythian to her heart's content. Even Amren was pleased with not only her luxurious suite; more luxurious than mine and Rhys's that allowed her to display the fine jewelry and baubles she collected over the years, but also with the two-story library lined with stacks of books that even I couldn't resist browsing.

Elain had been my biggest help in planning our estate, and when I asked what she wanted, she simply—and shyly, requested a garden. A now wide and expansive garden, with a vast greenhouse, which she tended to with the groundskeeper every day. Her living quarters were combined with Nesta's, who never admittedly claimed to live in our estate, but over the years settled and even sold the small apartment she once resided in on the other side of the Sidra. I couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with Cassian's growing influence, but I knew it was mostly due to Elain and Amren. I was only happy to see her on a nearly day-to-day basis.

I had indeed built the house of my dreams—our dreams, filled with family, staff and sentries with their own living quarters, and more than an adequate amount of space for us all. After three years of careful planning and attending to every last detail, along with balancing my shared duties as High Lady; our estate was now a masterpiece with an empty nursery. I pushed away from the thought, reminding myself that fae children—fae babies, were rare. That night on the Winter Solstice when we decided we were ready for them; Rhys had warned me it could take years. At the time, I hadn't cared, but as the years passed, I often wondered if I would ever see the beautiful face of the son the bone-carver had shown me.

I tried not to lose faith, in the Mother, the cauldron, all of it. Every time the disappointment showed in my face when my excruciating cycle would return, Rhys knew and reassured me that it would happen for us. I tried not to think about it with my mental shields down, or shout it down the bond, which I was more efficient at building every year. Not that I actively liked to block Rhys out, I rather enjoyed communicating through our bond, depended on it—especially on a night like this.

I'd rather not worry about you getting sick every night this week. I'll come home tomorrow

You don't need to do that, I'm really fine. Maybe it was that big dinner I had.

Funny, I almost believed you for a second Feyre, darling

I sighed audibly, sure that he knew I did. It was just an intense nightmare. They still come and go, you know they do

I do—but still-

Don't be such a mother hen. I snapped. It was a bad dream and a bad reaction. I'll be fine in the morning.

Silence followed for longer than I liked, and I felt some remorse for snapping at him. Knowing my feelings, my experience, with overprotective behavior had him reigning it in as much as possible. It was still there from time to time, but I knew my mate. Knew when he was overprotective, it meant he couldn't help himself but would in no way force me to his will. Still, my feelings of guilt remained. It was true that it had been years since a nightmare caused this reaction, and had the roles been reversed, I would want to be at his side.

I was about to apologize before he sent another warm message down the bond; As you wish, High Lady

I rolled my eyes. That wasn't exactly an order, you know.

Oh I know, but I also know just how much you love ordering me around

I smiled as I settled in our bed, imagining his cocky grin adorning his handsome face, violet eyes glimmering with mischief. I sighed again, if that were the case, I would actually order you back home.

I still can

No, no I'm alright. I feel better already. Plus, you need to be there. Go enjoy your Illyrian rituals and ceremonies and whatnot.

As you wish, High Lady

I snorted before sending him a vulgar gesture down the bond and raising my mental shield of adamant as I closed my eyes, sleep once again starting to claim my body; the timbre of his dark laughter resounding softly in the shadows around me, causing my stomach to flutter delicately as the sound lingered and lulled me into a new sleep.