The Cabin By the Lake: Chapter 3
Cerridwen fell in love with Mor the second she laid eyes on her.
They were young, she was only just finished with her training as Azriel's spy, and it was her and Nuala's first full day working as Rhysand's handmaidens. Mor came to the townhouse to ask his advice on a problem in the Court of Nightmares and just like that, Cerridwen was hers.
Nuala knew her sister exclusively sought female companionship, she never cared one bit, but Cerridwen knew she wouldn't approve of any relationship with someone so close to their new employer. It risked complicating the dynamic, and Azriel would likely relocate them far from the paradise that was Velaris (the existence of which they were still grappling with) if he knew Cerridwen had fallen for a member of the Inner Circle so wholly and completely...
Besides, it was obvious that Mor had no interest in females. She seemed to flit from male to male, and flaunted her affairs openly (especially in front of Azriel). What was the point in risking losing Velaris for both her and Nuala for someone who simply couldn't feel the same way?
Still, no matter how she tried to resist Mor's charms, that golden hair and citrus scent were never far from her mind. Cerridwen even began to dream of Mor as the years rolled by. She was hopelessly and overwhelmingly in love with a female who only noticed her when Amren made some comment about half-wraiths making her uncomfortable.
Cerridwen nursed her love utterly alone, without even Nuala to help her. It was a burden to her, something she had to carry. Even knowing that, fledgeling love turned into something whitehot that began to burn her very soul. It was a poison in her veins- one Cerridwen didn't want to live with or without.
And then Rita's party changed everything.
It was the Feast of Souls, about seven years after Cerridwen had entered into Rhysand's employ. Seven years of living with an aching heart, and she needed to get that ruby and gold female out of her mind for even just one night before love drove her insane.
Rita always hosted a special masque for those who preferred the companionship of their own kind- or at least those who were open to the idea. Nuala (in month two of her three month affair with Azriel) encouraged her to go and find someone, if only for the night. She didn't know who her twin was pining after, but it was obvious enough that she needed some fun at least… And if she was out Nuala didn't have to lie about visiting their mother when she went to Azriel's bed.
Cerridwen found a fine veil in the House of Wind that would serve her as well as any mask. It was made up of golden coins that sat low across her forehead. Gold and diamond links stretched beneath her eyes, and from it hung over a dozen rows of gold chain, each overlapping like the scales of a fish. From them dangled small charms, and another row of golden coins added weight to the bottom.
It was the fashion of the southern lands for females to wear such a veil. Cerridwen's own mother had hailed from there in life, and traveled into Night with the soul of an adventurer. In death, she was still proud of her heritage, though Night remained her chosen home. That reminder of her mother's supporting warmth gave her just a bit of courage- and to Cerridwen that was everything.
When she'd hesitantly asked Rhysand for his permission to wear it on the Feast of Souls, he'd waved off her nerves and told her to keep it.
Nuala had helped her paint her eyes with kohl and a bit of gold dust that night. She turned the death-pale wraith into someone mysterious and alluring. With her sister's blessing, Cerridwen went off to Rita's.
Her makeup was such an unusual touch for the half-wraith that Rita didn't even recognize her when she entered. The female took one look at her, decided her veil meant she wasn't there for the party in the main hall, and waved her to a closed door leading up to the second floor.
That exclusive party was more crowded than Cerridwen would have thought. Some were simply there to meet others, some weren't comfortable with the masses downstairs knowing their preferences, but none were judged, and all felt safe together. Even the ones who were proudly out joined in the upstairs fray to lend support to others who might need it.
Cerridwen had seated herself at the upstairs bar and ordered a cocktail from Rita's mate. She needed courage to speak with anyone there, and while the veil afforded her something akin to bravery, the drink was more than welcome. Rita's mate glanced at the golden veil that ended well below Cerridwen's chin and added a straw for the sake of ease.
"Here to meet someone, or get to know someone?" She asked after Cerridwen had a sip. "I like to play matchmaker."
"M-meet someone?" Cerridwen answered her so quietly that the female had to ask her to repeat herself.
"If you know about this party, then you probably have an idea of what you like?" She was trying to phrase it delicately. They saw plenty of females and males who had no preference one way or the other to who they loved, but she wasn't joking when she said she wanted to match people up.
Cerridwen couldn't imagine walking up to someone blindly, so she decided to let Rita's mate help her, "Females, just females." It was the one thing she was sure about this night and every night. Males held absolutely no romantic appeal for her.
"Shy but adamant," Rita's mate flashed her a smile in case her little tease caused offense. The shy ones could be sensitive and it took plenty of courage to even enter this place for the first time. She wanted the female to feel comfortable, "Do you want someone you can show off, or would you rather keep it quiet?"
Cerridwen swallowed hard, "I- I don't know."
"That's fine," the female smiled. As Cerridwen's nerves showed, she adjusted her demeanor to keep the veiled one comfortable. "Tell me a little about what kind of relationship you're looking for."
"I just- there's someone I want to forget. She isn't like us... and no matter how hard I try, I can't stop thinking about her… I'm tired of hoping." Cerridwen looked down as longing threatened to overwhelm her.
"Let's make that a bit stronger," Rita's mate poured a splash of extra alcohol into Cerridwen's drink. It wasn't enough to get her drunk (unless he had two or three more), but it was enough to take some of the sting out of her heart.
Cerridwen accepted the added strength. She didn't want to be miserable at a party, she just wanted to forget Mor for five minutes in a row. So far that wasn't off to a great start.
Rita's mate looked around at the crush of faeries dancing over in the darker part of the hall and considered everyone she knew who was single and a good fit for the female in front of her.
A golden mask speckled with small rubies and adorned with a rose in the corner caught her eye.
"I think I have an idea, someone who's a bit fiery but tends towards the quiet type. Now, she isn't out yet, so she prefers to just keep things casual. That could be nice if you're trying to forget someone. What do you think? Shall I make the introduction?"
Cerridwen's heart thundered at the sudden prospect of meeting someone. It had been so long since she was with a female- all that damned mooning over Mor made it impossible for her to see another without comparing them in her mind. Rita's mate waited patiently as she drank her cocktail as fast as the straw would allow.
She set it down, swallowed hard, and nodded.
The female came around the bar and held out her hand. Cerridwen took it, and let herself be dragged across the room to the edge of the dance floor, where that gold-and-ruby mask had gone to catch her breath.
"I'm playing matchmaker, you open to new friends?" She stopped just behind the masked female.
Voluminous golden hair, a mask speckled with rubies to accentuate her rich scarlet dress, the scent of citrus that wafted from her skin- Cerridwen's racing heart stopped dead.
Mor turned with a snort, "When you get involved, the safest thing to do is say 'yes ma'am'."
"Good answer." She grabbed Mor's hand and pressed Cerridwen's into it.
The feeling of Mor's skin against hers made Cerridwen jump. It was like an electric shock that set her heart beating again. Mor's eyes softened immediately at Cerridwen's flinch.
Cerridwen couldn't even meet her eyes. She was trembling- simultaneously overjoyed and utterly terrified by the evening's turn. She came to forget Mor, a female who was almost aggressively attracted to males. Now here she was holding her hand in a gathering of those who were most certainly either direct opposites of that romantic view or at most considered the matter open to interpretation.
Rita's mate stared them both down, assessing. She finally smiled and put a hand on either female's shoulder, "I approve of this. Lady in Red, you already know the rule. Little Golden One, we have a very strict policy here: I get invited to any weddings that may arise from my matchmaking. Agreed?"
"What?" Cerridwen squeaked.
"Just say 'yes', it's the only way to get her to go away," Mor squeezed the female's hand and offered a smile- not that Cerridwen was up to eye contact yet.
"Yes?"
Rita's mate smiled brightly, "Have a wonderful night you two." With that, she turned on her heel and headed back to the bar.
Mor released Cerridwen's hand- but she noted how the female's fingers curled towards her a moment, reluctant to break contact. "She can be a bit much, but she means well. She and Rita only just mated last year, she's still stuck in that mushy phase."
The music changed and Mor listened to the song a moment, "Dance with me? If we do it at least once, she'll comp our next drink." Dancing with Mor the female Cerridwen had dream of for seven years... Cerridwen's legs suddenly went numb, "It's alright," Mor said, "if you don't want to, that's perfectly fine."
"No!" Cerridwen said quickly- too quickly. "I-I want to. I do."
Mor smiled at her eager response, "Alright then, it's a slow song, so that'll give us a chance to chat." She took Cerridwen's hand once more, then rested the other on her hip. Just on the outside of the crowded floor, they began to sway gently to the music. Mor could tell the female was nervous and shy. It tugged at her heart.
"I like your veil," Mor offered. "My cousin's family were sent a few trunks of similar ones from the southern continent after a trade deal. They're quite beautiful."
"T-thank you. This was a gift from my employer… I like your mask too."
"I designed it myself," she said with pride. "Red is my favorite color, I wear it as often as I can."
"It suits you."
Mor smiled, "Thank you, and if I may- gold looks lovely on you."
They traded little complements until Cerridwen felt comfortable enough to venture towards actual conversation. She learned that Mor's favorite food was Illyrian fried rice, that she loved winter best of all seasons, and when her friends weren't watching, her favorite thing to do was swim in a mountain lake with nothing on whatsoever.
That made Cerridwen's face turn scarlet, and Mor laughed brightly at the pure shock in her eyes. It put an image in Cerridwen's mind she knew would appear in her dreams, but it also broke through more of the shy awkwardness between them.
Cerridwen offered up a little information, but mostly asked Mor questions. With the initial shock past she was devoted to learning as much about the female she loved as possible. After tonight her aching heart would surely punish her, but just for now she basked in Mor's glow.
This twist of the Cauldron- both a curse and blessing- only made the prospect of facing her the next day that much harder... and sweeter.
By the end of the night they were both a little tipsy from their matchmaker's cocktails, but more than that they were utterly and undeniably under one another's spell. As the last bell rang to signal the closing of the bar, Mor swallowed hard.
"If you'd like, we can go back to my place for one more round of drinks?" The shy hope in her voice surprised even Cerridwen, "It might be nice to… to take this mask off."
An invitation to go to Mor's home- and all that might follow- made Cerridwen breathless. But the thought of taking off her veil and revealing herself to the female she'd quietly loved for so long-
-she couldn't do it.
One nice evening wasn't enough.
Mor would see her and realize someone close knew her secret. She would turn on Cerridwen, run away as fast as she could, or (and perhaps even worse) go white with shock and beg her not to tell the others. Her rejection would be swift and merciless, and it could very well end with her encouraging Nuala and Cerridwen's removal from their group entirely.
Of course, later Cerridwen would come to realize Mor would never do such a thing, but that evening she was trapped between heaven and hell- which wasn't exactly conducive to rational thinking.
"I want to- I really, really do, but-" Cerridwen felt like she might cry. Her dreams on a golden platter, and she had to reject it all.
Mor reached out to grab Cerridwen's hand as it touched the veil- reminding herself it was still there to protect her. The scarlet female pulled her hand away and gently stroked her palm. Such intimate contact made Cerridwen's breath catch and her entire body went loose and taught all at the same time.
"It's alright. I understand." A light twinkled in her eyes, "What if I said we can leave the masks on and revisit this in the morning?"
Cerridwen's mouth went dry, "Y-you would w-want that?"
"Don't tell the bartender, but… I think I might like you."
That shy, golden female before her had piqued her interest as the night wore on. It was clear enough that she was more afraid of Mor herself than being with another female, but her dark eyes were somehow familiar, and her quiet nature had drawn Mor in. She'd been with few females over the centuries longer than a single night, but this one she could already tell was special.
The night they spent together was nothing short of magical. True to her word, Mor didn't push Cerridwen to remove her mask or even divulge her name as they explored what they might do together. It was the Feast of Souls, a night for drinking and celebrating life. More fae went home with someone than not, and they certainly weren't the only ones keeping at least part of their costumes on.
Cerridwen fell asleep with Mor's arms wrapped tightly around her and their foreheads pressed together. She never slept so soundly in her life- and never felt happier.
But when the morning sun slid through the windows, she woke to the sound of Mor making them both breakfast. Mor's mask was on the pillow beside her- an offer.
Mor wanted to know the female she'd taken to bed, and she was not afraid of how the shy golden one may respond to seeing the third in command of the Night Court was her lover.
When they slept, Mor had a dream where she brought that female to meet the rest of the Inner Circle. In the dream everyone had smiled and welcomed her with open arms- even Azriel. Upon waking Mor knew that future was the one she wanted most. She'd opened her eyes long before sunrise (and not long after they fell asleep) just to stare at her, to reach a hand beneath the veil and stroke her cheek without pushing it up past her nose.
Cerridwen had set that boundary the night before, and as much as Mor wanted to see her face, she would respect her wishes.
Now fear returned to the heart of the half-wraith. All those worries she'd had about how Mor might react to seeing her filled her mind once more. She couldn't do it- she wasn't brave enough. She'd loved Mor for too long- and feared her reaction too much- to let herself believe anything but more heartache could come from what they'd begun together.
Cerridwen found her dress near the door where it had been abandoned and slipped it on. She was going to take it as a sign- she even put her hand on the doorknob.
Still, she hesitated.
"It's alright," Mor said quietly from behind her, "I understand."
If Cerridwen truly was a stranger she would never have heard the note of sadness in her voice. She didn't understand, not really. She thought Cerridwen saw her as just a one-night affair- passionate entertainment during the Feast of Souls, but nothing further.
Without even realizing what she was doing, Cerridwen found herself turning to face Mor. Her heart stumbled at seeing her fully- no mask to hide who she was. Cerridwen closed the distance between them in two steps, pulled her veil up just past her lips, and kissed Mor as she had the night before.
It was fire and lightning- a making and unmaking that set Cerridwen's blood boiling in her veins and coaxed a moan from Mor.
She could feel it though- that rapidly approaching moment when her irrational mind would talk her rational mind out of leaving. When she would cross a line that couldn't be uncrossed and let Mor rip that veil off her face so she could know her as wholly as Cerridwen now saw her.
A second before she lost control and took that plunge, Cerridwen broke the kiss, whispered, "I love you, Morrigan," and ran out of the apartment as fast as she could. On the landing she became shadow and mist not a second too soon- Mor caught the door and charged out after her.
She couldn't see Cerridwen- not when she was fully in her wraith form. A hand went to her lips as though she could preserve some of the mystery female's taste. There was no sound of feet on the stairs, no scent beyond the doorway, and eventually the distinct odor of burning eggs forced Mor back into her apartment.
That did indeed prove to be both a blessing and curse.
Mor spent months trying to hunt down the golden female, but neither Rita nor her mate had any idea of who she might be. Kind and welcoming as the Inner Circle was, they didn't acknowledge the twins enough for Mor to really look at Cerridwen and realize the eyes that tried desperately not to caress her every move belonged to the female who'd vanished.
It hurt more than her silent pining ever had- to have a taste of paradise and yet return to her solitary life. To be so close to the female who brought her heart so much joy and be dismissed as just another servant…
Cerridwen came to see Azriel as the luckiest fae in all of Prythian. He loved Mor silently for two hundred years, and unlike Cerridwen he'd never known what it was like to be with her- to connect with her on an emotional and physical level as she had that night.
A blessing... and a curse.
When the next Feast of Souls rolled around, Mor arrived at Rita's early and set up watch by the door. All night she waited, waving off any female who tried to strike up a chat.
Cerridwen slipped in wearing a low-cut gown and gaudy headdress she knew Mor would dismiss immediately. It was too loud for the quiet female she'd fallen in love with, and the only disguise she wasn't anticipating.
Cerridwen watched Mor at the bar from the other end of the dance hall, and let her heart bleed openly. Maybe that was the trick to getting over her- to embrace the pain and agony until it was impossible to shed another tear as she cradled her pillow at night.
For three hundred years, Mor waited faithfully at the bar during the Feast of Souls.
For three hundred years, Cerridwen hid and prayed for the ache to fade.
When Azriel asked the wraiths to secretly shadow Rhysand at a distant Feast of Souls party in honor of Amarantha, Cerridwen was the one who agreed first. She couldn't take another year of seeing Mor take up her vigil, she couldn't stomach the disappointment and resignation on her face when she finally gave up for the night and took someone else home to try and forget about that shy female who'd stolen her heart.
That party- and what followed- taught Cerridwen a very new kind of agony.
She and Nuala stood through every horrible second of it with Rhysand.
They comforted him as best they could when he was shoved into his new chambers after the first night with Amarantha, and every night that followed. They alone remembered Velaris- remembered his Inner Circle- when even the rest of the Court of Nightmares had forgotten about the ferocious Cassian, sadistic Azriel, monstrous Amren, and the sheer fire and fury that was the Morrigan.
For that- for the memory of what he was doing it all for- Rhysand was never upset with the twins for sneaking in with his group.
Every time he was returned to his room, they dropped their shields for him- and let Rhysand's mind find theirs. He never questioned why Nuala remembered Azriel in such pristine detail, or how Cerridwen could paint a clear and vivid picture of Mor's face- of her smile and the sound of her laughter.
He was a drowning male, and what the wraiths offered was life itself.
After Under the Mountain, when Cerridwen stepped out of the darkness behind Rhysand and emerged in the foyer of the townhouse to see Morrigan for the first time in fifty years-
-the fear was gone.
Utterly, wholly, completely gone.
She had seen the absolute worst that life had to offer- she'd seen someone she cared about used and tortured- seen him forced to watch a female- a woman- he loved die in every way possible, and just when she was blessed with an immortal life, he had to surrender her… All while wearing a wretched mask.
The female returned to his side, the world went mad, they were mated, Hybern rose and fell-
-and the Feast of Souls rolled back around just as the dust was settling. Their first since Under the Mountain.
Everyone went to Rita's that night- save Rhysand and Feyre who opted to remain behind for their own fun. Cerridwen knew that meant Mor wouldn't be there for her vigil, and had probably given up at long last, but she donned the golden veil and dark dress and went to sit at the bar in her seat.
When Rita's mate turned around and saw her, she dropped the glass she'd been holding.
With Cerridwen's blessing, she ran down stairs to alert her mate.
Cassian and Azriel gorged themselves on alcohol and candy until one was cut off (Cassian) and the other turned green from the sheer multitude of sweets he'd devoured (Azriel). Nesta, Elain, Lucien, Amren, and Varian were taking turns keeping an eye on the two even as they all danced through the night.
Mor made sure they saw her with to two different males before she split from the group. She'd been so determined to move on at last- to enjoy the first Feast of Souls with her newly expanded family since the hell that was Rhysand being trapped Under the Mountain- but she couldn't help but feel she was missing something.
Three hundred years- and every time she'd thought of giving up looking for the golden female, her heart screamed that that would be the night she reappeared.
Rita caught Mor's eye as she wrestled with the decision to stay or go, looked to the door that led upstairs, and nodded.
Mor didn't care who saw her. She ran the entire way, took the stairs two at a time, and shoved aside anyone in her way with nothing more than, "Sorry!"
When she entered the second party and her eyes found Cerridwen's, Mor didn't care who saw her unmasked face. She went straight to her, lifted the veil just high enough to free her mouth, and pulled Cerridwen into a kiss as passionate and fiery as the last one they'd shared.
They didn't even bother waiting for Mor to make her excuses and leave the group downstairs properly. She winnowed Cerridwen across Velaris to her apartment.
"Where have-"
Cerridwen put a finger on Mor's lips to stop her as they both gasped for breath. She was trembling with need, but she forced herself to step away from that female who claimed her heart the day they met, "I was scared for so long," Cerridwen said. "I thought you would hate me when you knew. Every year I watched you waiting for me, and every year it killed me to stay away... After Under the Mountain, I refuse to be afraid."
"Under the Mountain?" Mor paused- then it hit her. Color drained from her face, "Which one?" Her voice was barely a whisper. Only two females from Velaris had gone Under the Mountain with Rhysand.
She removed her veil without so much as a second thought, "Cerridwen."
Mor stared at her for a long time- at Azriel's spy who she'd apparently loved with quiet ferocity for three hundred years. The female who'd wrecked all others for her, who'd vanished after a kiss that Mor still felt on her lips centuries later.
A female she'd long since realized was her mate.
"You didn't give me a chance last time," she whispered. "You didn't wait for me to reply, so let me say it properly now," Mor stepped in close, erasing the gap between them. She cupped Cerridwen's face in her hands and stroked her cheeks- just as she'd done after their night together- and recalled Cerridwen's last words before she vanished.
"I love you too."
Elain squealed and only Lucien's quick hand on her back kept her from falling out of her seat. Feyre was clinging to Rhys, Amren held Varian's hand (the most emotion she would let herself show), and Nest and Cassian both had their hands over their hearts.
Even Azriel and Nuala were smiling when the females finished their story.
"I wanted to come out to you all right then, but we chose to wait a bit, until we were really sure." Mor held her lover's hand and smiled brightly.
"And then I said we should ease you all into it, so I asked her not to tell you I was the one she was with." Cerridwen added.
Feyre latched on to the most important part in the story, "Wait- until you were sure? Does that mean-?" Her eyes lit up in pure excitement.
"Does it mean what?" Mor couldn't fight down her smile, but she was still playful.
"Mates?" Feyre's voice was more of a squeak than anything.
Mor bit her lip and tried to look at Cerridwen with innocent confusion- but she utterly failed. When she buried her face in her hands and made a sound similar to Elain's outburst, Cerridwen took over.
"Yes," most of the females at the table shrieked, while the males tried to look indignant at the behavior of their mates. Rhys, however, was beaming at the two of them. "Not mated yet, but the bond snapped into place last night. We wanted to tell you all first and so we came right here." She looked to Nuala with a flicker of concern in her eyes, "Please don't be mad."
"Why would I be mad?" Nuala stood from her seat and came to her twin, "Why would I ever be mad?" She pulled her up and into a warm hug, then grabbed Mor as well. Tears were streaming down her face as she held her sister and her sister's mate, "All I knew was that you were so unhappy for so long- and then one day it was like someone brought you to life." She broke the hug and kissed Mor's cheek.
"It was the same with Azriel," Mor gave Nuala another hug. "I've never seen him as happy as he's been since you two fell in love."
When Nuala and Cerridwen first caught sight of one another, the Inner Circle had gone quiet. They thought a storm was brewing between the twins, and everyone braced for a fight.
Instead, Cerridwen had simply asked Nuala how it started.
When Nuala finished her story, Cerridwen told theirs.
The assembled females hated the tragedy of it all- how Cerridwen and Mor had suffered in fear and love for centuries- but they'd all been drawn in by suspense, and awaited Cerradwen's revelation to Mor eagerly… Even though Mor and Cerridwen sitting hand-in-hand before them was a rather obvious sign of a happy ending to the story.
Rhysand was just glad to see Mor with someone she loved- a female who had saved him Under the Mountain with her memories and kindness.
Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, and Varian all shared a similar smile.
"We're going to spend the two weeks everyone is here relaxing and letting you all see us as a couple in love." Mor took a deep breath. Cassian and Rhysand knew from varying degrees of personal experience how much it hurt to try and ignore the pull of the mating bond when you'd already had a taste. It was a special kind of need that burned you from the inside out. "After you all go back to Velaris… We'll stay here for another week or so- if that's alright."
At the lake Cassian found. In the home he'd built for his family. They wanted to mate in the paradise he had created, after spending two weeks with those Mor and Cerridwen loved most in life.
"I'd be honored," Cassian said immediately.
Rhysand rolled his eyes, "What he means to say is 'that's perfectly fine by us'. He just has trouble with words sometimes."
Mor snorted and squeezed Cerridwen's hand again, "You sure you want to be a part of this family? There are weird ones."
Cerridwen pressed her forehead to Mor's and smiled brightly, "Absolutely."
Announcement:
As anyone who follows my tumblr (Rhysand-vs-Rowan), the next chapter will be Elucien smut. I know there is a sharp divide in the fandom between Elucien and Elriel, so I am writing Chapter 4 in a way that has no bearing on the overall storyline for "The Cabin by the Lake".
There will be no big revelations, no cliffhanger, and any interaction with the Inner Circle will be ones that do not have a payoff in Chapters 5 & 6 (Amrian and Nessian respectively).
Also, just a reminder (and if you want clarification you can send me an ask)- ship-hate is not allowed on my page at all, but any pro-Elriel or anti-Elucien comments/replies on my fanfics specifically will earn you a 'block' (other posts are fine). I do not ship-bash and respect that some do not ship Elucien, I just ask that when it comes to my fics you respect that I do.