A group of mixed reactions ranging from pure elation—Elain—to pure questionable indifference—Rhys—stare back at Nesta as Cassian holds her hand, soothing it with his own.
"So, apparently your stares prevent you from hearing me correctly. I said I'm pregnant."
Feyre blinks and steps forward to her sister, throwing her arms around her. "Nesta, that's fantastic news. Wow. I-I didn't know you wanted children, at least not so soon but I'm so thrilled for you."
"Congrats, Cass", Rhys smiles a bit and nods at him.
Nesta hugs her back, her heart still sinking a bit. It was obvious that even Feyre didn't believe she could make a good mother. "Thanks", she replies flatter than intended. Elain rushes up and hugs her tightly, squealing softly in happiness.
"Oh Nesta, I'm so so happy! Nyx will have a little cousin to play with. And who knows, maybe one of these days Lucien and I will have some of our own too if the Mother blesses us."
Lucien turns red at the glances toward him; clearly, her family didn't know that they had gotten intimate the other day. Though, he supposes it's good that Elain keeps their privacy. "Agreed." He bows grandly at the wait to Nesta. "Congratulations, Lady."
Nesta chuckles lightly at Lucien's boldness and animation. She admires his genuineness. "Thanks, Lucien."
Azriel grins and pats her shoulder. "I'm elated for you, Nes. You will be a great mother."
That's all it took for Nesta to tear up, throwing her own arms around Azriel's waist. He tenses a bit, taken slightly aback for a second before a soft smile appears on his lips and he gently hugs her back.
"Thank you, Az", she chokes up. Cassian grins and inclines his head at Azriel, a secret understanding between them; Cassian extremely gracious at his brother's consistent kindness and encouragement towards his mate.
Something flickers in Feyre's eyes at the exchange and an expression of sadness passes across her features before disappearing. "He's right, Nesta. You will be. You've made such amazing strides to get yourself to a healthy place, and you can be the mother we never had to your children as I am to mine. And as Elain would be to hers. We deserved better. Now we can give them what we didn't have." She takes Nesta's hands and looks at her with understanding, watching a sole tear escape her big sister's eye before she brushes it away.
The small smile remains on her lips, but she becomes a bit dissociated. Nesta immediately realizes that she is mind-linking Rhys. Most likely scolding him or forcing him to tell her congrats. It's fine, she doesn't want his fake glee.
"It's alright, Feyre. But yes, we will show the next generation childhoods that most of us in this room truly never had." She knew it was a low jab at Rhys, being the only one to have a good childhood and a good mother, but as he was the most silent one here aside from the women who had backstabbed her a year ago, she found it necessary to let him know indirectly that she sees him still.
"We will", Feyre affirms softly, tossing Rhys a look.
Mor and Amren stand in the back of the room with wine glasses in their hands. "Congrats Nesta", Mor says with a too-bright smile, raising her glass. Amren follows suit with a less cheery sentiment.
It was almost too stressful to stand there and still get assessed by those who still don't like her, even if she is a part of their rag-tag family as they call it. She rubs a sore spot on her neck and Cassian frowns at them, his smile bordering on a sneer before turning his attention to Rhys, his eyes becoming stormy.
Nesta grips his arm gently, knowing that they could get out of hand fast. She wasn't quite in the mood for a brawl. Cassian looks down into her eyes, immediately seeing what their bittersweetness has done; it had tainted her true happiness, and not only them, but Rhys—Rhys, his brother is a part of that bitterness. Rhys—the man who had always scorned his mate and yet had knelt to her when she had saved Feyre and his son. Rhys—his brother whom he never voiced his distaste for when he made Cassian believe the things he did to Nesta back then helped when they only hurt.
Gently removing Nesta's hand from his, his glare narrows in on Rhys. Elain looks between them nervously before grabbing Lucien's hand and pulling him towards the garden.
Cassian makes three long strides and grabs Rhysand by the lapels, dragging him into the study across the hall, door slamming behind them.
"What the fuck is your problem, Rhys?", he seethes.
"Mine? Nothing. Do you want to tell me why you literally dragged me in here?", he picks some lint off his jacket and meets his glance.
"Why? You fucking know why, Rhys!"
Rhys furrows his brow. "Cassian, just say what you want to say."
"You completely ignored Nesta! Completely. She's the pregnant one. Pregnant with my child. Mine, Rhys. I don't give a flying fuck if you two don't get along. She is my mate, and I am your brother. Hell, she's your mate's fucking sister. I don't care if you're the High Lord or the fucking King of the World. You are to give her respect", he growls.
"Watch it", Rhys scolds lowly. "Yes, you are my brother, therefore I am happy for you. I don't see what the problem is."
"The problem is that you made me do things that made Nesta uncomfortable and scared and straight up terrified. Things that made her feel worse and made her so low she wanted to die. You convinced me of things I felt weren't right and I did them anyway to my mate's detriment. I forgave you for that because I knew part of it was me and I should have refused. And that's the past, but either way you had no fucking right to defile her the way you did. Taking her home, her solace, then trapping her in the House of Wind where she was alone and terrified to hear fire, to simply fucking bathe. A place she couldn't escape. Sound familiar Rhys? Huh? A woman trapped in a place she doesn't want to be when she's traumatized? It astounds me now to think back and see just what a fucking hypocrite you were."
The temperature plummets and darkness seeps from behind Rhys, his teeth clenched and voice a deathly cold rumble. "Don't you ever compare me to—"
"Too late. I just did. Because you were. To my mate, and I have every damn right to be upset about it, especially now. Just as you did back then for Feyre. Every damn right, Rhysand."
Rhys stands there, jaw rippling and eyes bright, as if he wants to rip Cassian in two for even having the audacity to compare the situations.
"What are you going to do Rhys? Rip me apart? Hm? You can't just put your fucking pride away and realize that maybe, for once, you were wrong for something you did!?"
Rhys stands there solidly and speechless, blinking and breathing deeply, the darkness and icy air slowly retreating.
"What? Sense caught your tongue, dear brother?" Cassian continues to fume, his chest heaving from the rapid breaths as he rants. "Nesta is my mate. Your sister-in-law on both sides. I will not tolerate any disrespect towards her. I don't care if you're the High Lord. You are simply a brother when we are not discussing Court matters. The sooner you realize and implement that, the sooner this 'family' of ours can stay intact by more than a thread. And you had better speak with Mor and Amren too unless you want me to verbally rip them apart too. Their fake fucking charade and putting on smiles pretending that they are happy for us? If they aren't happy, if they aren't part of this circle that I thought was my family, maybe we shouldn't be a part of it.
Nesta is my mate and that means she comes first now. Always and forever going forward. Not you, not Feyre, not Mor or Amren. Nesta. My mate and my future. I may be an employee of yours and Feyre's and I will uphold my oath of protection, but that will go for Nesta too. Nesta, the mother of my child. And the only comfort I have found from this so-called family is from Azriel. Who has acted the most like a brother to me this past year and a half. He has been consistently kind and encouraging and a friend to her. Because he got to know her. And y'know, maybe we know her more than even Feyre does. I couldn't be happier that I do, because she is special and beautiful and smart and strong and everything you will never see because you always tear her down.
It's not worth her mental health to bring her around people who only make her feel like shit. I won't stand for it, and I won't put her through it. I can see it in her face, the icy mask. Usually, when she tries to be tough and cold and hit her mark, she has these horrible knots in her stomach and then all the insecurities arise and take over her mind telling her she isn't good enough, she already is afraid she won't make a good mother because of her past, and you guys fucking preying on that fear is sick and disgusting and I won't...I won't let her or our child be around people who tear their mother down. With or without words."
Cassian turns on his heel to leave, worn out and guilt-ridden himself.
"Cass", Rhys calls out softly.
"What", he mumbles, not bothering to turn around.
"I—I do think you'll be good parents. And I'll talk to Mor and Amren."
"Fine." He opens the door and strides out of the study, seeing Nesta sitting on the sofa next to Feyre, both of them nursing cups of tea. They never seem as comfortable as sisters who grew up together should be. They both get tense, and it sends a ripple of sadness through Cassian, wishing it would have been different for them.
They both look up at him as he walks into the room, slumping onto the footrest near them.
Feyre grips his hand and squeezes. "I'm sorry, Cass. I—you know how he is."
"That's not an excuse anymore Feyre. I'm sorry but it just isn't. I told him we won't be coming around here anymore unless he and the rest of them can treat my mate with respect. You know I'm your buddy, we've had so many good times, Fey, but...even watching you and Nesta now, I feel like the tension is still there. And I can't subject her to anything that will stress her out. Especially now. I'd say I'm sorry, but...I'm not. I just hope you understand."
Feyre tears up and looks between them. Nesta's eyes are watery as she looks at him lovingly. "I understand. You're mates. I do understand. I'm sorry about...them."
She turns to Nesta and hugs her lightly. "I'm sorry about me too", she sighs and leans into her.
Nesta sniffs and cradles her baby sister to her lightly. "I don't want this baby to grow up like us. With family that doesn't get along and that's so disjointed and...", she trails off before swallowing the lump in her throat. "...and hateful. Everything that happened to us and to me; what I had to do to protect myself even as a little kid, and what I did to protect Elain...", her lower lip trembles.
Feyre doesn't think she has ever seen Nesta so emotional and shaken since Cassian nearly died.
"All of that made me the hateful monster that I was."
Cassian scoops her into his lap and wraps his arms around her. "No. You were never a monster. You were hurting."
"I was still hateful. And I don't want my child to be bitter about the dynamics of a broken family like us."
Feyre sniffles and wipes her face, nodding. "I know. I'll talk to him. All of them. We will make it right."
"There's so much you don't know, Feyre", Nesta chokes up. "So much you never needed to know."
Her eyes widen a little, but she nods slowly. "I imagine there is. Maybe one day you will tell me, when you are comfortable."
"Elain knows part of it too. But not everything...not everything at all."
"I hope I can understand one day. But for now, I hope we can have a blank page, a fresh start. I want Nyx to be close to his cousin. I want us to be sisters again, Nesta. You, me, and Elain. We deserve that."
Nesta nods and kisses Feyre's cheek. Something that completely stuns her. "We do. But right now, I'm quite worn out, and Cassian and I have to rescue Gwyn and Emerie from the House."
"Oh, they were there?"
"Training earlier."
"You trained?"
"Lightly", Cassian interjects. "But the moment she told me, I told her that was enough until the babe is born."
"I thought the girls going to pass out they were so excited", Nesta smiles softly.
Something hits Feyre hard at that. No, it wasn't her and Elain who knew of their niece or nephew first. It was Gwyn and Emerie. Nesta's...other sisters. Sisters she had found comfort in when she didn't think she could ever turn to herself and Elain. If she meant the comment to hit its target, it did. Though she can't totally blame her."
Nesta swallows and takes a breath. "I'm sorry...you didn't need to know that. I-It's a habit...to feel spiteful sometimes."
Feyre looks at her hands. "I can't really blame you. They had given you comfort when Elain and I had given you...what we thought was tough love. I'm sure they are more like sisters at this point than we are still."
Nesta troubles her lower lip with her teeth. "Gwyn and Emerie are my version of Mor and Cassian to you. I'd say Amren but...she's usually pissy."
Feyre chuckles lightly. "I can get that comparison. I do want us to be closer though. Maybe then you'll have four sisters, instead of two."
Nesta nods and smiles tiredly. "I'd like that, Feyre."
"Me too", Elain pipes up, slipping into the room. Curiously, she is sliding her gardening gloves off.
"How much have you heard?", Feyre asks.
"Enough."
She turns to Nesta and hugs her around her middle, placing her head above her breasts. "I'm sorry. We were in a bad place, and I turned on you, and everything got complicated and went so fast and I'm just...you always took care of me, protected me. I never really thanked you for that. I know the past cannot be changed, but I agree that we should talk more going forward. I want us all to be close. I really do. No matter where we may travel, or find friends with, or where our lives lead. I want us to always be able to come back together as if we never separated." She lifts her head and opens her other hand for Feyre. "You too baby sis."
Feyre rolls her eyes and smiles, joining them, The trio hugs with their heads together for a while in silence, just drinking in each other's energies.
.
.
.
Eris locks the door to his bedroom with a magical ward before sinking onto his plush carpet, pulling the small trunk from within the lowest deep drawer of his dresser. His heart lurches in his chest as he opens it and rereads the letters he had received from Marina, all the way up to her last one. The cryptic one. The letter he never knew the meaning of until he had bet Gwyneth. His daughter. His secret daughter. One half of twins, the only one who lived while the other joined her mother, hopefully in the best of peace. Rereading the letter again, he can't believe he never read between the lines.
My dear Eris,
It pains me so to go month after month waiting for the day I get to receive your letter and send one back, but I know it is necessary in your eyes. I hope one day the issue is resolved and you will be free. Until then, I carry pieces of you with me always in my soul. Despite our distance, you have given me a love I had only ever dreamed about, and so much more. A chance to realize who I truly am. Thank you for that, and for deeming me worthy of your continued love and care. For you, I would do anything, even if it pains me. Always remember that I act out of love.
Yours always, Marina xoxo
Before he can hold back, he feels the stream of tears down his face. The same pale, freckled face that his daughter now bears. A part of him. As much as he longs to see her more often, he knows that it would create suspicion. Suspicion that can quickly turn deadly in the Autumn Court f Beron or his brothers ever found out. There is no morality, only power. Something Eris wishes to change when he becomes High Lord. A bid that has been a long time coming, and the wait isn't over yet. Patience is the key. Beron will fuck up, and once he does, he will be ended.
Covering his face, he sobs as quietly as he can, remembering everything they shared that night. Two souls as one, like they had always known each other.
{ Only soft panting could be heard by the time the Rite was finished. Eris covered his maiden before redressing himself shyly. As common as public sex was, he was much too proper to feel comfortable with it, even for the Rite.
"Come", he says softly, holding a hand out to her. Surprisingly, the auburn-haired young woman took his hand, leading him to her private chambers in the temple.
"You are one of the sons of the High Lord of Autumn", she marvels, a glowing sheen on her snowy skin. The fire in her room illuminates her soft features.
"I am", he admits.
"Going by the rumors...you must be the eldest? You are said to be the most proper of the lot", she blushes, fumbling as she puts on loose clothing.
"Yes. My name is Eris Vanserra."
"Eris", she repeats. "The eldest son of Beron Vanserra."
He nods slowly. "The eldest, and the least similar." He meets her eyes and expected fear to reside there, but instead, she exudes a quiet confidence. "You aren't scared", he muses curiously.
"Scared? Why should I be scared? We did just...well, I wouldn't call it making love, it was more like fucking for the sake of the land, but...you were not nearly as rough and uncaring as most of the suitors. Not what I expected."
"You—You expected pain and discard."
"All the maidens do. I'm sure this is not your first Rite, Eris. You know how it goes. How savage the fae can be. Especially the males overcome and intoxicated with magic."
"Yes, well, I seem to be able to handle my intoxication unlike some."
"Quite the admirable gift", she teases.
"I didn't catch your name, sweet priestess."
"Marina. Marina Berdara."
"Marina Berdara. Beautiful name."
"Thank you. My name means 'of the sea'. My mother had a sense of humor I suppose. I'm half water nymph."
Eris is taken aback and at first, a wave of annoyance and shame sweeps over him. If Beron ever found out that he had relations with a lesser fae, and enjoyed it...
Her confidant gaze drops a little and she nibbles her lower lip. "Apologies, my Lord", she bows. "I know that I am below you, I should have told you before."
For a brief moment, Eris can hear his youngest brother's pleading for the life of his lesser fae lover. The deep love that they shared was untainted by who she was, but pure for what they shared.
"No. Not—Not in my mind, anyway. I don't believe in hating someone based on status, contrary to who I was bred from. Don't bow to me, Marina. I hardly deserve that after...the Rite."
She straightens and looks him over, flushed. "You didn't hurt me. You could have, you could've leaned into the magic of the Rite, but you kept your grasp and you didn't. It makes you all the more attractive."
It's Eris's turn to blush as a small chuckle escapes his lips. "I don't think that among all the classically fae males, that I'd be the one chosen to put that word to, but I am flattered nonetheless."
Marina moves closer to him and lifts a hand to his cheek, her thumb tracing over her freckles. "You are to me. I adore your freckles, your vibrant red hair, your porcelain skin such as mine. I always wished I had freckles. They are like small kisses of blessing from the Mother."
Eris swallows the lump in his throat and pulls her flush against him, against his better judgment as his heart leaps. Gods, the small smirk on those lips taunts him in many carnal ways, the residual traces of magic in his veins making him buzz with need all over again.
"Oh...um, thank you."
She giggles softly. "You are horrible at taking a compliment."
"I've never had any to take."
Marina frowns softly and brushes her nose against his. "Well, that's no good. You seem like the type of male who should be complimented often."
"Yeah?"
"Mhmm", she hums, the smile returning.
Eris lowers his mouth to hers in a gentle but searing kiss. He receives no hesitation as she kisses him back, slipping her fingers through his brighter locks.
When they part, she pulls him to sit on her bed and her eyes turn sad as she takes his hand. "I know you and your family have been trapped with Amarantha, Under the Mountain. I'm shocked she let you perform the Rite, but since she has...well, you should stay. For the night. One night of comfort can recharge you, hopefully enough to remind you that you will make it out. That there is still a Prythian to come back to."
Eris looks down. "My time Under the Mountain is wavering. Amarantha knows we are bound to our High Lords, so she does not allow them to leave. However, one person from each Court is allowed to leave for business about once a month. All her plans to be Queen would be for naught if she had to rule over dead and rotting lands. Plus, she knows the safety of our people and High Lords is at stake if we don't return. Being a traitor to Amarantha isn't only suicide, but murder. As for staying with you tonight, I may be punished for it, but I'd like that."
"Come then, Lord Eris. Get comfortable."
"Don't call me Lord, just Eris is fine."
Marina grins softly and nods, slipping into her bed and beckoning him next to her.
They spend hours into the night talking about themselves, and Eris falls hard for her, at least realizing what Lucien must have gone through with Jesminda.
"Marina", he murmurs as she kisses down his neck.
"Eris", she responds softly.
He takes her face in his hands. "Marina, if my father found out...it doesn't matter if he's Under the Mountain. He has spies and sentries and emissaries that uphold his horrific mindset, bound by duty to him. If any of them ever find out that we—that I..."
She strokes his jaw and looks into his eyes. "They'd have me killed", she whispers. "For being lesser fae. For 'seducing' the illustrious heir of Autumn?"
"Yes. Without hesitation. They are soulless as he is."
"But you are not."
"In private, no."
"That's all that matters. Maybe it doesn't make any sense for us to have come together, but we did, and I can't help that we were meant to. We were chosen for each other for the Rite, but it feels like more than that. I know it isn't a mate bond, since you told me you had one long ago, but it feels like the fates wanted us to end up here, with each other. I don't want to let you go, and I find myself falling for you. More so every minute. And if your eyes tell the story I believe they are, I think you're falling for me too."
He swallows and nods lightly. "I am. Gods help me, I am."
"Then we have tonight."
"What?"
"You have to return tomorrow morning. And you've made it clear that your father is a danger to you and me if anybody finds out about us, so...we have tonight. Just for us. For our love. To share a small lifetime within a handful of hours."
Eris buries his face in her neck and murmurs. "I would love that, my Marina."
As Eris prepares to leave the next morning, Marina pulls out a notebook.
"You have a diary?", Eris smirks lightly.
"No just...poems. They're silly. Anyway, I want to write you notes. Once a month. I will leave them near the border of Autumn. The great white oak tree."
"The one with the rotted hole in it?"
"That's the one."
"I will fetch them every time I can."
Marina smiles and pulls him close by his lapels, her thin nightshirt loose on her body and falling down to mid-thigh. She kisses him deeply, pouring all her feelings for him into it, and he eagerly returns it.
"Eris", she moans breathlessly.
"Marina", he breathes. "Gods, I—I have to go. I have to be back by daybreak to avoid...well, nobody wants to find out."
She tears up and nods, stepping away. "I know, I'm sorry."
His fingers twitch with the need to pull her close and stay forever, the need to run away with her strong. His mind again reminds him of his brother and what he went through.
"Don't ever be sorry, love."
"Goodbye, Eris. I will never forget a letter. Or you."
"I'll never forget you, Marina. I pray that one day this will all be over, and we can be together at last. I'll read every single letter. I promise. I—I love you. I do."
"I love you too. Always."
Eris swallows hard and forces himself to walk away, using all his strength not to turn around. Amarantha had imbued them, all of them, with only enough magic to winnow to their Rites and back. With one last deep breath of comfort and freedom, he winnows back to the vile cave. }