A made creature, too pure for any world, lay amongst the roses; putting them to shame in her effervescent beauty. However, beauty is not her only haunting truth. What truth does this creature see in the world?
A scrap of parchment lay open faced on Elain's table by her window. She loosed a breath and stared down to the garden, the snow was beginning to melt and she noticed the flash of red across white. The Vixen was content to chase merrily after a Mockingbird, the cobalt of the feathers winking in the light. A small smile spread across her lips and Elain turned away from the window and down the linoleum steps.
She stepped out to the garden and let her light steps crunch on the snow. The little fox cocked her head at the sound and sniffed the air.
Elain placed the salmon a few steps away from a bench she liked to sit by and organize her suitcase of seeds. There was much more than just flowers, there were herbs and vegetables. Elain often thought of maybe opening her own nursery here in Valaris. Something hers. Not being so reliant on either of her sisters, though she loved them dearly, she wished to be self-reliant, strong.
With the cauldron nullified, the maddening images had ceased. However, she still saw the images of peoples lives, the ones closest to her. It was why she wished to be alone so often, she felt slick with oily guilt as she unwillingly looked into their memories.
Elain brought her legs close to her chest, resting her chin on the burgundy pants. The little vixen had finished her meal and had begun to inch closer to the High Fae female. She sniffed at the bench Elain sat on, curious but still hesitant.
"Do you think I could make it, little one?" Elain whispered. The vixen sat pack and stared, giving off the appearance of understanding.
"You do know you have the option to live anywhere in the city" A deep voice rumbled behind her. The fox scuttled away into the hydrangeas for cover from the looming presence of the High Lord of the Night Court. The female cocked her head towards him.
She could feel her eyes clouding over with the memory of flying through the frigid air. A pair of powerful fantom wings tugging between her shoulders and a pair of grinning, ebony haired beauties flanked at either side.
"My mother and sister, Aneia" Rhys whispered in answer to Elain's sigh. It took several blinks to clear the clouds from her eyes. Her cheeks redded. She knew of the horrible fate Rhys' mother and sister met by Tamlin and his family. She swallowed against the shame and guilt as her mind betrayed her against the power she had not yet mastered.
"I'm sorry" She said while hugging her legs closer. Rhysand sat silently beside her on the bench.
"I meant what I said before. You have the choice to go" He reminded. Elain chewed at her lip thoughtfully.
"My sister's don't think me well enough," She said quietly and looked towards the elegant male that was her youngest sister's mate. He had provided his home as a shelter for her for those many months. A twinkle of knowing glinted in Elain's eyes and she smiled sweetly at the male.
"As a year and a half passed, I will now take my leave so that another may take my place and be cared for" She prophesized. Rhys gazed at Elain with shock.
"You are sure?" He asked, trying to keep the eagerness from his voice. Elain tapped her nose and nodded. She then giggled.
"You are so drunk on her scent and taking in all of it you haven't noticed the faint twinge of sage to it." She teased. Rhys gave an unapologetic grin to his sister-in-law and crushed her in an embrace. Elain pat him in congratulatory fashion and looked off as the High Lord flew into the evening light to find his mate.
Mate. Elain blinked slowly at the word before standing and tending to the winter vegetables. It was midnight when Elain had made her way down the cobblestone streets. A little red fox happily prancing behind her, Not yet ready to allow Elain close enough to touch but the trust as forming.
The High Fae female looked up at the apartment that lay nestled in the burrows near the barracks. She passed a thumb over the folded parchment and took in a breath. One for courage. Before she strolled to the golden face of the letter drop of the door.
A child lay nestled in the dark, only not a child but a creature with the heart of one. It takes its steps tentatively but determined. It would not be cared for any longer. Self-worth is the most valuable treasure. What treasure do you hold dear?
Lucian tried to breathe against the tightness in his chest. The note was perhaps a token of accepting his existence. He allowed a small smile to dance across his lips in the firelight. He gave the note a final glance before adjusting his longsword in his Illyrian fighting leathers. He was a warrior first and foremost and found a sense of duty as a sentry of the Night Court, it was maybe luck that a position emerged around the school that Feyre had created. Luck or maybe a gift from his most prickly friend.