#and yes those are his favourite flowers and shroud's kiss

[doctor-aceus-art]

'Be quiet, please. He is in need of some rest, my friends.'

[pure-kirarin]

«Forget me not» - Sabo x reader

Summary : Sabo comes back after a mission only to find out that Y/N died a few days prior to that. Nobody told him out of fear of destabilizing him.  Warnings: This is very angsty. Death. Tw. 

A/N: Feel free to skip this part. This piece is REALLY emotional to me. I wrote it in this spot (click :D) . Pink petals were falling on me as I cried and typed those world, putting all my pathos and angst into them. Then, suddenly, rain started pouring. Prepare your tissue paper and enjoy.

**********************

You came into my life like a breeze, only to fade to dust.

Do I wish I have never met you ? Do I wish you have never came into my life if it was to leave me this way ? 

Am I this weak, am I a coward, am I an excuse for a human being ? 

If it meant that you didn’t die that day, away from my sight...

Then yes. I wish that our paths have never crossed.

Then you would be full of life somewhere, next to someone else...Someone else that isn’t me, but you would be breathing, the sun would be shining, my world would be turning, knowing that you, my sunshine, my universe, are alive. 

Maybe in another life, maybe in another dimension I would be able to make it up to you. To get on my knees and beg your pardon for not being there for you.

If only I could touch you, If only I could see your face, my angel, one last time. Just one time. 

If only. If only. If only. 

If only I have been there to save you. If only I have been there to hold you in my arms, to apease the pain you must have felt. To carry the burden off your frail shoulders. To hold your little hand in mine as you took your last breath. 

You left me without a goodbye, maybe because you knew that I would have died with you that day ? Maybe because you didn’t accept to say goodbye to me anyway ? How brave of you. How thoughtful. 

But this thoughtfulness is what is killing me today because I can’t see your sweet smile. Because I can’t kiss those soft lips, my nectar, the only thing that was keeping me alive.

Once again I wasn’t there. 

---------------

« (Y/N) ! I am back ! That mission is finally done-- everyone, I am back. Where is (Y/N) ? Why is everyone here ? Why is everyone dressed up in black ? »

It was fall, the perfect season to die. The sky was clouded, the trees were shedding their leaves, ready to die and to be reborn. Sabo came back from a one month mission on a far island. The mission was conducted successfully, he was holding a flower bouquet, white lilies, your favourite flowers. What funest flowers, he always found your tastes a bit eerie.

The flower of chastity, the flower of death. 

But he wasn't aware at that time, he didn't know about the symbolism of these flowers just like he was ignorant of what tragedy has happened.

Everyone was in the hideout, Dragon, Ivankov, Hack, Karasu, Koala...Everyone but you. They were all dressed in black, as if they were mourning. A gloomy beam was floating around the castle, as if it was souless.

They looked at eachother, as if they were waiting for someone to talk, to say a word. Koala was the first to come closer to him. Tears started running down her eyes ;

« -(Y/N) won't be able to greet you Sabo...(Y/N) passed away two days ago...All my condoleances. »

At that moment, earth started rotating, he saw his whole world collapse, shredded into a myriad of lily petals. At first, nothing came out, not even a sound. Then came a laughter, a mad, insane laughter. Not one of disbelief, no, but one of refusing to believe. 

One of a man trying to fool himself. One of a man that smelled death but decided to be both blind and deaf.

« (Y/N) ? (Y/N) come one, I know that you are hiding haha. You can't be pranking me like this ! Koala, you almost got me here. Where is (Y/N) ? I really want to see her. »

The young woman pinched her lips, her voice was nothing but a long and painful sob ;

-Sabo...(Y/N) is not here anymore. She caught the red plague when we were on our way to the island. She...We couldn't do anything for her ! I am so sorry Sabo...I am so sorry... 

-Koala....He put his hand on her back in disbelief, then started shaking her, Everyone, come on say something ! She can't be dead. It's not true. She can't be dead.

Then, all I could remember was white, immaculate white, an omnipresence of white, a color that I was starting to hate. The same white of your favourite flowers, the same white that snatched you away from life. The same white enveloping the body of the dead. The white of the shroud.

And I could swear that I saw you, that I head your voice calling for me from afar.

« Sabo..Sabo... »

But it wasn't you.

His eyes were extremely heavy. His first reflex was to look for you next to him, but you weren't there. It was Koala.

« Thanks god. I had a terrible nightmare, Koala. »

He looked for something, anything in the big, blue eyes, he didn't know what he looked for, but whatever it was he didn't find it. She looked down and said ;

« I am sorry it wasn't a nightmare Sabo....(Y/N) left this letter for you. I..will leave you alone now..Please do call me when you need me, alright ? » She says with a gentle smile and closes the door behind her.

With shaky hands he takes the letter. He brings it to his lips like it's a substitute to your body. Your perfume was still on it. Your writing was cursive and shaky, he almost didn't recognized it.

« (…)

And from my ashes, I want to be reborn like a phoenix, my phoenix. Do you remember ? It's how I called you once we found each other...I thought you were dead, and there you were born again, like a beautiful mythical bird, from the ashes.

I want you to spread mine at sea, Sabo. This way I will be always immortal. Always.

Don't shed a tear for me, this is how it was meant to be.

And because my life stops here, I want you to have a happy life.

I want you to live two times longer, laugh two times harder...Once for you and once for me.

I want you to continue further. I want you to live and I want to live within you, so please don't die Sabo.

I will be immortal as long as you don't forget me.

Don't forget about me Sabo. People don't die when they cease to exist, people die when they are forgotten.

Don’t forget about me, Sabo.  »

And then he cried, for the first time you made him cry but not being here anymore. He wanted the only tears to shed for you to be ones of joy but they were tears of grief.

He couldn't comprehend it, that now he will never hear your voice calling for him anymore. That he won't get to caress your hair no more.

Why did you leave me alone ? Wasn't it easier to take me with you ? Why did you deny me of seeing you just one more time ? Why didn't anyone tell me ?

It wasn't sadness, it wasn't anger, it was a whole new feeling that he didn't know existed, a feeling that made him wish he were six feet under the ground.

It was raw, a feeling of irreality. It didn't make sense. How dare anyone live and not you ? How could you, his darling, die out of everyone else ?

How strange to think that only a month a way you were in his arms, and now all he could embrace was the void, your lack.

He was just starting to get over Ace's death. He was just starting to live for you. For your dreams of a happy family, for your childish ways, for your lighthearted teasing, for your burning kisses.

But nothing of this remained but a piece of paper with shaky handwriting and a room full of memories.

For days the memories lived within him, he swore he could've seen you by the frame of the door. He woke up in sweat searching for you only to discover your absence. Your memory was now a burden and the fear of forgetting even more.

« Don't forget about me, Sabo. »

And there he was, in the ocean, spreading what remained of you in the waves. Lilies were floating. White lilies....If only you could reborn from your ashes like a phenix.

He didn't know how to swim but it didn't matter. He felt himself sink in the water, disappearing, merging with your ashes, making one with you.

*********************

« Don't forget about me, Sabo. »

It has been two years now. Two years and the handwriting seemed both foreign and familiar. It has been two years since (Y/N) died, but he didn't remember.

« Don't forget about me, Sabo. »

He reads again, trying to get a recollection of your face, but he couldn't. 

What only remained what a vague feeling of déjà-vu when he saw white lilies and a strong guilt for a death that he has never caused.  

« Don't forget about me, Sabo. »

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember. 

[wannabe-amateur-writer]

Claude Faustus X Femme Reader: Confessions In White

It was snowing and, as always, you were outside. You had completed your job for the day meaning it was late in the evening, not a great time for a female to be out, especially in the late 18ᵗʰ century. Luckily you knew how to defend yourself though, so doing things that were considered 'unladylike' never bothered you. It did however gain the slightest attention of the demon butler of Trancy manor.

You always found a way to baffle him, causing him to wonder, 'were you actually from this time period?' It didn't seem like it. You spoke your mind without any caution, you swore worse than a drunken sailor, you found dresses and corsets uncomfortable and unnatural, you even knew how to fight which was not at all ladylike or feminine.

Time went on, yet the thoughts were always there, he couldn't understand you at all. You, a simple human being of all things, were the one thing he couldn't figure out.

"Claude", you called out.

"Yes?", he asked, turning to face you. He was cleaning a countertop with a cloth.

"I've finished my tasks so I'm going to head out for a while'', you say to him, pulling your coat up to cover your clothed shoulders.

"But it's almost nightfall!", he was astonished, "it isn't safe out there, especially for a small, little creature like yourself. Why, a demon could just gobble you up and you'd be none the wiser until the pain hits you".

"Aww, concerned for my well-being, Faustus? Why this isn't like you at all. What's with the protectiveness all of a sudden?", you tease him.

He let's out an annoyed tsk, "I'm not concerned for your well-being, I'm just stating that it's already quite dark and the snow is quite thick. Do whatever you want, creature".

You playfully roll your eyes at his words, "Oh Claude, your words pain me sometimes", you put a hand on your heart, tilting your head back.

The demon just silently watched you, knowing he didn’t really cause you any harm.

You then quickly look back at him, seemingly normal again, "I'll be gone for just a little while, hopefully no demons are out to play". You then say goodbye before leaving.

And that's how you got here. You were out on a hill, your entire surroundings covered in a white blanket. The snow was still falling though, tiny flakes pouring out from the barely visible, grey clouds. You felt off. You loved being out here but you felt as though something was missing in this scene.

Or someone.

You let out a soft sigh, a puff of cold air escaping your lips and dancing around the air. It was freezing.

You pull your scarf up to cover your chin and mouth before rubbing your gloved hands together. Maybe it was time to head back. No, you couldn't. You wouldn't. That's where all the problems sprouted.

The more time you spent in Trancy manor, the more you realised how much your feelings had blossomed towards a certain demon. You hated that you felt that way, he was nothing more than a mere acquaintance, yet your heart led you further to a bitter dead end. He seemed very interested in learning about you, as if you were an entirely new species to the demon. It had you perplexed at first. He never seemed to care about humans, yet as time went on, he became a prominent figure in your life. He listened to the things you said, no matter how small those things were. Like for your birthday, he got you a bouquet of (favourite flowers), remembering when you had told him you liked them many months prior. You both were in a flower garden when you told him that, you spotted them out of the myriad of flowers and plants blooming there.

He remembered the tiniest of details about you or things you said, he even knew when you were hurting, but you thought him being a demon played a major part in that.

The snow was beginning to cover you as you stood firmly in place, thoughts running wild in your mind. Should you confess to him? What was there to confess though? Nothing, absolutely nothing.

But there was something. It plagued your thoughts every second you were awake.

'Maybe it's just hormones', you tried convincing yourself, but the answer was plain and simple.

"Y/n!", a stern voice from behind caused you to jolt.

Spinning around to the source of the sound, your eyes locked firmly with the familiar eyes of the demon that was pervading your mind.

He was finally right next to you, head peering down to look at your comparatively small figure.

"Did you not hear me the first few times?", he asked as he tweaked your scarf for you.

You shook your head slightly, "sorry, I was thinking".

"I could tell", he then pulled your hat down so it recovered your ears.

He was also bundled up in winter clothing.

"How did you find me?", you ask, looking up at the tall demon.

"Sheer luck", he said, arms by his side now.

You nod, it was probably his demon senses. He handed you a flask, holding another in his other hand for himself. Taking off the lid, the smell of cocoa hit you, the warm steam flowing through the air.

You smiled, Claude's cocoa was the best you've ever tasted and you've tried Sebastian's cocoa. It did not compare.

You quickly embrace him into a hug, "thank you!!"

You then let go just as fast, not knowing whether the demon would like it or not. He nodded his head in acknowledgement before taking a sip of his beverage.

You two soon found a bench to sit on, still shrouded by the wintry fields.

"You know the way back, right? I was kind of meandering", you say sheepishly.

He nodded his head, "of course. I've been here plenty of times".

"You have?", you quip.

"Mmhm, you come here often when you walk astray. It seems you fail to realise that though", he explains.

You were nonplussed, "I-I do...?"

"Yes, which is why this is one of the few places I knew to search first".

"How long was I gone for?"

"Not too long", he reassured you, "but long enough for worries to bubble".

That last bit caught you off guard, he was worrying about you?

"The snow has progressively exacerbated so I needed to check you were still alright and out of harms way'', he candidly responded, as if hearing your thoughts.

Your mouth opened in shock, not believing he actually said that.

"Oh, drop the charade, Y/n", he waved a hand at you dismissively, amused nonetheless.

You look back at your flask, thinking for a moment.

"You were actually worried about me?", you ask quietly.

He was silent causing you to turn back to him. He incoherently muttered something before standing up.

"Let's head back to the manor. It's getting late".

"Wait!", you called, just as he was about to walk off.

He turned back to face you.

"Were you worried about me?", you needed answers. This was all messing up your train of thought.

He sighed, striding back. You thought he was going to just give you a sly remark but instead he threw the flask out of your hand and picked you up, his flask already being inside his pocket.

He then tugged your scarf down, planting a soft kiss on your warm lips, in contrast to his ice cold ones but that didn't stop you from kissing them back after the shock had passed.

Once he let go you struggled to open your eyes.

"I'm telling everyone", you finally say once you were able to speak again.

"They won't believe you", he smirked, putting you down and began to lead the way back.

"So, uh, we go out now, right?", you shout to him, grabbing the flask as you start following him back towards the manor.

"No", he responded.

"So can I ask Sebastian-", you couldn't even finish your question before he cut you off.

"No, you are not!", he yelled, suddenly halting again. You stop walking too in confusion. He didn't look back at you.

"But if we don't go out then-"

He sprinted full speed at you, causing you to let out a squeak before racing away. He caught you though, grabbing your waist and pulling you down against the soft but cold fluffy ground.

"You will never ever say that peasants name in my presence, nor will you think about him. Is that understood?", he asks, pinning you down.

"But you said we don't go out!", you argue weakly, a blush adorned your cheeks.

He chuckled after seeing your blush before moving his face closer towards you. His nose rubbed against your cheek.

"Not yet, we don't". 

[agoodgoddamnshot]

Little Things - Geralt/Jaskier

Gif isn’t mine

Originally posted on my AO3 

He hears what people say about them. He knows what they must think. How in the names of all of the gods do they even work as a pair? They’re as different as day and night. And maybe at one point in his life, Jaskier would have agreed with them. In the first few months of knowing the Witcher, he experienced first-hand how shut-off Geralt could be with the world around him and those within it.

At some point, and he can’t pinpoint where, that shroud started to slip away. He saw how much Geralt could, and does, actually care. It’s as fierce as the way he fights.

They spend a great deal of time watching each other; when they finally fell into a bed together, they spent most of their nights learning what the other liked, mapping the plains of skin and muscle underneath the other.

But it’s the other things, the little things, that Jaskier thinks about the most.

Their journey to Kaer Morhen is going well. They’re making good time. Winter nips at their heels, and with no whispers from the south about Nilfgaardian movements, Jaskier can tell how anxious the Witcher must be about returning to a safe, neutral ground. Kaer Morhen, for all that he’s heard about it, will see them weather whatever casts itself over the Continent. For a time, anyway. Until they figure out what it is they need to do with their latest edition to their group.

“Jaskier!” Ciri’s voice carries through the air. Quick footsteps snapping twigs tell her where she is. She jogs back towards camp, breaking through the shrubs surrounding their camp. “Look what I found!”

The bard looks up, fingers stilling over lute strings. Their camp is nestled in a thick forest. The canopy overhead had given them enough shelter from the rain a few hours ago. Since it cleared, Geralt has been tending to a small fire and a cast-iron pot hoisted above it.

Ciri drops to the ground beside him, brushing a stray strand of golden hair out of her face. Bundled in a gloved hand are some flowers. Jaskier blinks. He recognises them. An approaching winter has caused the world around them to lose its colour. Everything he’s seen has been turned grey. Even the grass in the meadows is starting to wilt and wither away. But the flowers in Ciri’s hands, winter pansies, are so bright: purple, lilac, yellow. The inside of the petals are stained black, as if an inkwell as splattered.

Ciri watches him with a broad smile blushing her cheeks. “You told me that they were your favourite.”

“You were only a few summers old then,” Jaskier marvels quietly, tracing the rim of a petal with his finger. “How do you possibly remember that?”

“Because you visited the gardens every year when you came to visit,” she explains. “And you always asked the groundskeeper when these would blossom best.”

A lump tries to lodge in his throat. The girl is just so good. Something that he hasn’t seen in the world in a long time; at least, not tarnished. He knows what she’s been through. Or he has an inkling at the very least. He hears here some nights, crying into her pillow, or crawling into bed with them, shaking and trembling that something or someone might carry her away.  

And yet, she remembers things like what flowers are his favourite. Jaskier swallows.

He isn’t going to cry.

He’s not going to cry in the middle of gods know where.

“Thank you, my darling,” he smiles, pressing a light kiss to the centre of her forehead. Ciri’s nose wrinkles. It always does whenever he kisses her. She tries to wriggle out of his hugs and pulls her hand away when he tries to hold it. It’s something she’s done since she was a child. Even all of these years later, his heart tightens when he sees a flash of that young girl in front of him, brief and fleeting like an afterimage.

“You’re welcome,” she smiles, standing up and wandering over to the fire to warm her hands. Jaskier’s eyes follow her until he spots Geralt sitting silently at the other side of the campfire, staring straight back at him with his head cocked slightly to the side. When their eyes meet, Geralt hums, and goes back to tending their dinner.

She needs to know how to fight. That’s one of the many, many, many reasons they’re going to Kaer Morhen in the first place. Who better to teach her these things than the wolf pack in the mountains?

They’re still half a day’s ride away from the keep, but the sun doesn’t stay perched in the sky long enough for them to make any great ground anymore. There’s a village that sits at the foot of the mountain; one that sees them sheltered for the night. Villagers here are just slimmer clones of Geralt, if Jaskier is being perfectly honest. None of them talk, moving around each other uttering noises instead of words. He doesn’t think they’ve actually made eye contact with him in the time since they got here.

While they still have a few hours left of sunlight, Geralt and Ciri use the livery’s yard as a makeshift training arena. In one of the last villages they walked through, Ciri was given new clothes and a wooden sword. She’s faring better with breeches, being able to walk and run without tripping on the edge of a dress. And the clothes they found her in weren’t going to keep her warm as soon as the winds turned cold.

As for the sword, she had been eyeing the two sheathed to Geralt’s back. And Geralt certainly wasn’t going to let her practise with an actual blade.

So that’s why he’s perched on the back step of the tavern, watching them do drills in the middle of a livery yard. He wraps his arms around himself. Despite the fur-line jacket around him, wind still nips at his skin. But he can’t bring himself to stand up and go inside.

Geralt keeps looking over to him. Probably wondering why the bard is outside watching them. Jaskier offers him a small smile whenever their eyes meet.

With learning how to fight, she’s learning that she’s going to get hit. He’s always known her to be her grandmother’s kin – a cub, yes, but a cub that will grow into a fierce lioness like the last queen of Cintra. During their drills, she’ll fall. She trips over her own feet, or her balance isn’t quite right. Sometimes, when she’s sparing some simple moves with Geralt, he’ll catch her legs and trip her.

With every thud, every plume of dust that billows up into the air, Jaskier sits up that bit straighter. She gets back up again. She always does: with a fierce frown etched into her face, sword raised high, trying to get back at the Witcher for not being fair.

The light is starting to fade when she gets knocked down again. Pushing herself off of the ground, she brushes her hair out of her face. No matter how many times she ties it up, it always ends up flying out of its tie and distracting her.

She pushes the hair away with a sharp huff – one that even Jaskier can hear a couple of feet away, with a breeze whistling through the yard.

Jaskier laughs, waving the girl over. “Come here,” he says lightly, “let’s sort this out.”

Ciri sits herself on the step below him, holding her head high and straight. “Could you braid it?” she asks. “It just keeps getting in my face.”

Jaskier cards his fingers through her hair, pulling it all back over her shoulders. He hums. “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll just shave it all off.”

At that, she lets out a sound he can really only describe as a squawk. She spins around, staring up at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“He’s joking, Ciri,” Geralt says softly, bringing the girl’s wooden sword over to her. Geralt’s eyes flicker to him, an eyebrow beginning to arch. You are, aren’t you?

Jaskier laughs. “Of course I am,” he tells the both of them, nodding at Ciri to turn back around. “I’ll have you looking even more beautiful in no time at all.” Geralt steps away, fetching the girl’s coat from where she threw it once their drills started to warm her blood. Now that they’re done for the day, chill will set in. Geralt dusts the jacket off, laying it over her shoulders. Ciri smiles up at him.

It doesn’t take him long to weave her hair into a braid. Shorter, softer hairs still fray her hairline, but a bit of wax will keep them at bay. For now, though, the braid will do. “Not the neatest, but I’ll do it again for you in the morning before we head off.” Jaskier glances over to Geralt. “When will we be leaving?”

Geralt shrugs a shoulder. “If we leave at first light, we’ll be at the keep by midday.” He looks down at Ciri. “How does that sound?” Because of course Jaskier will be awake at that point. The Witcher he shares a bed with will make sure of it, even if it means dragging him out of it by his ankles. It’s Ciri who favours her sleep. But the girl nods firmly. They’re all keen to get to the keep – for the safety and security of having high, well-protected walls around them, but also for curiosity’s sake. No one outside of the guild has seen what Kaer Morhen even looks like from the outside, let alone the keep’s halls.

Ciri gets up first, tugging her coat tighter around herself. Jaskier follows. He doesn’t miss the way the joints in his knees and hips crack at the movement, or how his muscles just protest it, but he blames it on the cold.

Even with the fading light, he spots a smudge of dirt on the arch of the Witcher’s cheekbone. Reaching up, Jaskier dusts it away with his thumb. “I doubt there would be any use calling for a bath now, would there?”

Geralt hums. He leans into the touch. “Kaer Morhen was built on hot springs. The baths there are like pools, big enough for a lot of people.” Something flashes in the Witcher’s eyes. “We could take one together if you like.”

Heat flashes over Jaskier’s cheeks as a slow smile curls along his lip. “I’ll hold you to that.” He tilts his head up, catching Geralt’s lips in his own.

Ciri’s face scrunches up. “Gross.”

Kaer Morhen is both everything he expected it to be, and nothing like it at all.

True to his word, one of the first places Jaskier finds himself being brought to is the baths. They’re below the keep itself, and with every step he takes, following Geralt down spiral staircases, he can feel the air getting warmer and more humid.

When he finally sees the springs, he almost cries. Days-worth of dust and dirt and cold that’s buried in his very bones seem worth it, finally. The speed in which clothes are gotten out of and thrown on to a nearby bench should alarm him. But he’s gathered an armful of glass vials, with oils and soaps and lotions with dried flowers and herbs through them, and he will have the best bath he’s probably ever had in his life.

The instant that hot water kisses his skin, a shiver runs straight up his spine. Geralt wades into the deeper end of the spring, ducking his head under for a moment. It takes Jaskier a moment to plan out the bath – rock formations from the mountain leave little ledges around the rim, almost like benches. Some parts of the bath are deeper than the others. Jaskier sits on a ledge with his vials within arm’s reach. Once settled, Geralt wades back over to him, taking a seat just below him. Geralt leans back, pressing against Jaskier’s chest and settling with a soft sigh. Without thinking, the bard’s hands go to Geralt’s shoulders.

This isn’t a new or an odd thing. He washed the Witcher when he still insisted on keeping his veil of not caring about anything or anyone up. He washed the Witcher when that veil slipped away.

Gathering some oil in his palms, he sets them on Geralt’s shoulder. A silence falls over them; one that doesn’t need to be filled. Geralt’s eyes slip shut as fingers work away every string of tension in his muscles. Jaskier is just content to have his Witcher as pliant as he is underneath his hands.

Some part of him wants people to see this. He wants people to see the man they all fear so much, being soft clay underneath Jaskier’s ministrations. But then, the hackles rise at the thought of other eyes seeing this – something that is for them and them alone. He’d happily gouge out the eyes of anyone who would impose on this.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but the water doesn’t cool at all. Whatever water that sloshes out of the bath, or escapes outside into the cold, it’s replaced by the mountain. The hot spring smells faintly of sulphur, but it’s not unpleasant. Candles burning around the bathhouse mask most of the smell with dusk rose and something else he can’t quite put his finger on.

The comforting smell of chamomile lilts over the air as he works more oil into Geralt’s back and his chest. After a stretch of silence, Jaskier speaks. “Are you asleep?” he tilts his head. He can’t see the Witcher’s eyes, but he imagines that they’re closed.

A hum rumbles through Geralt. Sort of.

Jaskier stretches back for a different vial of oil; one that Geralt likes, but never actually admits it. It’s for his hair, keeping the already bright strands even brighter. He tries not to move too much. Geralt is reclining against him. And although the water laps gently at them, he doesn’t want it to bother the snoozing wolf too much.

When Geralt speaks again, his voice is quiet. “Why do you do this?”

A soft frown creases Jaskier’s forehead. “Because I want to,” Jaskier replies. He says it as though it were the simplest thing in the world. And to a point, he guesses that it is. He likes looking after Geralt – because gods know that Geralt certainly doesn’t look after himself. Although he doesn’t love Geralt coming back from a hunt bruised or cut or caked in mud or grime, he likes making sure that his Witcher is clean and safe and loved.

Geralt hums, mulling the response over in his head.

Eskel and Lambert take turns tutoring Ciri. Jaskier watches from the forge as the three of them dance in the main practise arena. Although it’s one of the warmer days, the winds are still unforgiving. The lit forge behind him keeps his back warm at the very least; and with one of Geralt’s cloaks around him, Jaskier isn’t too keen on moving from his post.

Ciri listens to the other two Witchers intently – even when they argue among themselves about how best to pirouette with a broadsword. Jaskier can see the faintest of smiles ghosting her lips when a brotherly argument goes a bit too far and both Witchers start squaring up to each other.

Before the first fist can swing, a sharp whinny sounds from the main gate. Jaskier’s ears twitch. He can tell who it is without even looking.

He woke up this morning to an empty bed. It’s not uncommon. Geralt is sometimes so restless that he can’t stay in one place for too long – in a warm bed with a warm body beside him included. But he never ventures far.

Jaskier stretched out his hand this morning and frowned when he felt cold sheets. The tell-tale scent of the Witcher was already starting to thin from his pillow.

Neither Eskel nor Lambert knew where he had gone. And Vesemir just offered a shrugged shoulder. “His horse is gone so he probably went out on a trail,” the elder Witcher grunted, going back to his sword and whetstone.

Geralt rides Roach over to the stables, hopping down and patting her neck. He says something to her, too quiet for Jaskier to hear. He’s quick to slip her saddle and bridle off and get her settled in her stall.

Ciri pays him no mind, using the opportunity of Eskel and Lambert arguing among themselves to practise her stances with her sword. Jaskier tugs his cloak tighter around himself, staving off a stray breeze. When Geralt wanders over, Jaskier sees that one of his hands is behind his back.

Jaskier narrows his eyes. “Where have you been?” he asks, shuffling over a bit so Geralt can take a seat next to him.

He doesn’t. Instead, Geralt looks down at his boots for a second. Wordlessly, he stretches out his hand.

Gathered in his fist, Jaskier blinks at the sight of flowers. Bright coloured flowers gathered in a piece of cloth. They look so small and dainty in comparison to Geralt’s hand. He recognises them instantly. Winter pansies; ones in a rich shade of royal purple, bright yellow, and one that is as white as snow.

Jaskier sits forward, mouth slightly agape. “I didn’t know that they grew this high up,” Jaskier says.

Geralt swallows. “They don’t.”

At that, Jaskier frowns. The trails around the mountain are bare, but he saw some flora growing on the roadside on their hike up. None of it looked as bright as what Geralt has grasped in his hands.

In fact, the last time he saw flowers blooming that bright was at the foot of the mountain.

No.

No.

No, he didn’t—

“Did you...” Jaskier’s eyes flick between Geralt’s face and his hand. “Did you walk back down to the village, just to get flowers?”

Geralt presses his lips into a thin line. He nods.

“For me?”

Another nod.

Jaskier can feel his brain starting to shut down. “The village is half a day’s walk away,” he breathes.

“It didn’t take that long. I took Roach,” Geralt shrugs a shoulder.

“You took-” A laugh wrangles its way out of his throat. It’s ridiculous. It’s lovely and sweet and kind, but it’s ridiculous. He reaches out for the flowers. The cloth is mostly wrapped around their stems. The cut is clean enough that, if he put them into a vase of water, they’ll keep for a couple of days. It’ll be a splash of colour to a colourless winter. They have a faint perfume to them, but nothing too overpowering.

Jaskier pats the space next to him. “Come here, you oaf.”

Geralt wordlessly falls to Jaskier’s side. When he sits, the sides of their thighs press and warmth blooms through their skin. Jaskier lightly ghosts his finger over the flowers’ petals, marvelling at how bright and healthy they are despite winter rolling in. He nudges Geralt’s shoulder with his. “Why did you walk all the way back down the mountain to get me flowers?” he asks with a slight lilt to his voice.

He knows the answer. Well, he thinks he does. He just wants to hear Geralt say it.

The Witcher’s expression is utterly unreadable. He stares off in to some corner of the forge, his jaw working. “Because I wanted to,” he offers after a time.

The smile that spreads across Jaskier’s face couldn’t be gotten rid of even if he tried. He leans against Geralt’s side, pressing a kiss to the arch of his cheekbone. “They’re gorgeous. Thank you, love.”

Even though he knows he’ll blame it on the cold, Jaskier swears that he can see colour wash over Geralt’s cheeks.

[becomestorm]

the night was nature's sort of quiet. she awoke to the sound of crickets with something soft against her, stirring. they must have fallen asleep. lotus dragon's brow knit, they looked troubled. she shifted herself so their head could rest against something softer. fingers carded through threads of ebony, her other hand held onto theirs, softly she sang a lullaby. maybe... just maybe their nightmare could be changed to a dream. she'd hate to wake them when rest was so hard for them to find.

unscripted nugget.

❛   you aren’t a burden.

ren was but three summer’s old when the cruelty of the extended lie family made their first impact. a noble and endangered lineage must conserve their bloodline, while at the same time weeding out the weak. lie fei hong was beautiful and charming, but ren loved her because she was kind. the first to aid them when they would fall and graze their knee, she’d weave their hair, protect them from teasing, and she was by far ren’s favourite cousin. none of this mattered to their patriarch, and because she was not gifted in academics or huntress skills she was married into a different family. a baby ren didn’t understand until far far later, and had thought fei just decided to go and leave them behind. the second instance of cruelty came not long after that. six years old and they were betrothed, doomed to suffer the same fate as their beloved fei. from a very young age, ren knew that love was not for them. that choice had been made for them, along with their future. they would not be a burden, they would uphold the family honour. this is how lies treated their loved ones.

❛   please,   just stay for a little while.   i don’t want to be alone.

ren was eight   (   on the eve of spring equinox, they had been eight and a day   )   when they learned of sacrifice. their mother, beloved lie zhilan, youngest daughter of the patriarch, ran away with her roguish lover and a child born out of wedlock. dispute about ren’s stance as an heir had made them them the target of ridicule since they were born, and so both parents would eventually elope to oniyuri. or so they thought. there they sacrificed everything to keep their child safe   ;   their statuses, their lives, their home, and then their lives. the stupid little fantasies in ren’s novels would often forgo the devastation, and romanticise loss in the name of love, would sugarcoat the complexes and deep seated heartache of tearing apart such vital pieces of themselves. that had been love. it had been in the way their mother would light up when father came home, when she cried over missing her siblings, when he’d brush her hair behind her ears, when she tended to his wounds. when an, and ren, would be the only one to make li smile on his worst and most painful days. this is how rens treat their loved ones.

❛   you aren’t alone.

an affinity for ice had named her glacial girl. the snowstorm of her trademark schnee hair, white wild blue fire in her eyes had deterred all but those select few from understanding the fragility of her faith. broken by the man meant to mould her, and then countless others who had tried to tear apart her innocence had forced her hand. ‘round her a fortresses of frozen walls had erected, waiting for that which might wait patiently for one of them to melt. her reflection would often dance in shadows of this ice prison, every so often ren would spy a smile, hear a laugh, coax out the mysticism of the stars on long lonely nights with naught but bitter brew to keep them company. there was kindness there, in how the walls would melt just enough to water the flowers ren planted by the citadel walls. ren had stopped waiting for them to melt, content that come what may they’d be happy with what they had. they’d all but stopped paying attention ‘til the second they’d been lost to their own inner turmoil, a tempest had ravaged their own barriers and left them vulnerable in the wake of their pain. without noticing, princess had emerged from the walls to wrap them in her fine velvet cloak.   (   “ it’s me. don’t worry, i’ll make sure you’re safe. ”   )   there, where ren had learnt of love’s sacrifice, they allowed themselves to feel again.

❛   how is your grimm statistics report going   ?

what was love   ?   they wondered. they ought to. their very name could mean it. ren, by definition   :   benevolence, humanity, and love. qing ren, by definition   :   lover. for so long their semblance had deprived them of such thoughts, allowed them to feel nothing but grief, anger, and sadness. it had taken them too long to see them morph into something new, the old ache in their chest that would pang with loneliness now did so with something else instead, something indescribable because ren had never known it themselves. they had seen it, heard of it, read about it, dreamt of it, maybe, but never experienced it. in equal parts the new feeling was elation and hurt, anxiety and calm, solemnity and fury. it was too much, and too little. it was the taste of blueberry smoothies, the pleasant flutter of butterflies kissing skin, the sight of a star sea across a vast open field, the sound of girlish chimed laughter ringing with delight. it was watching the flush spread across the apples of cheeks, the silken caress of starlit strands on long scarred fingers, and the thumping heartbeat at the sight of pearlescent tears, her hands outstretched and cradling their treasured resin charm.

❛   ah,   mine’s already finished.

ren rarely reached sleep deep enough to have nightmares, but when they did they were always suffocating. the smog of nuckelavee breath was a staple, until grimm ichor was near palpable on their tongue. it coated their mouth, and lungs and congealed until breathing felt like a hot drag across a pit of coals. in them they always see and hear the voices of their loved ones falling into into the abyss of blackened primordial tar, and they are always too late. they live to see everyone die before them. cooling touch along their hand beckoned they turn the other way, and just like that waking was instantaneous, but not jarring. ren’s eyes remained closed, but their synapses started firing off gathered intel. were they safe   ?   yes. were their weapons nearby   ?   not apparent. what else   ?   ren focused quietly on the feeling of weiss’ hand trail through the choppy strands framing their face. they could tell it was her because of her scent, floral with a hint of vanilla, signature even when at beacon. they could remember the scent of her blanket when she would shroud it over their sleeping form. her cloak in kuroyuri had carried the same scent. upon recognition, their head tilted down into the pillow of her lap, puffing out a few clouds of lily scented smoke. happiness. safety.

❛   i used to be terrified of the dark.

the dragon had been on their side, facing the outer edge of the couch. still feigning sleep they rolled over so their forehead pressed into her hip, so they could curl in on themselves and hide their face. they couldn’t remember the last time they’d entrusted those parts of themselves to someone without fear they would break them, or how she allowed them into parts of her life other people rarely got to see. even when they’d only met one another they had the instinctive knowledge that the both of them crafted masks, even if their reasons differed. who was the last person they’d trusted to cradle their broken pieces   ?   not even nora knew the extent of the damage in kuroyuri. if she had seen them break down like they had, then it wasn’t since they were children. throughout their nightmares in beacon, their long sleepless nights, and in the recovery process of the nuckelavee’s defeat weiss’ presence had been a soothing balm over decade long wounds. and they had allowed her something terrifying, the ability to ruin them, some reign over their emotions that should she leave, should she pass, ren wasn’t sure if they could handle the heartache.

oh, gods.

❛   it is quite ridiculous,   isn’t it   ?

if they focused hard enough, they could hear the slight clink noise of their red thread bracelet on her wrist, the silver clasps touching. eyes barely opened, they brimmed until they couldn’t see beyond the distortion of their lashes. ren bit down on their lip to stop any sound from escaping, willed their body to stop seizing. a single tear fell from the duct of hazy magenta hue and rolled across their nose bridge, over a cheekbone to drip onto weiss’ skirts. the only sound grounding them was her lullaby, murmur quiet to a backdrop of crickets and night song.

❛   not in the slightest.

i’m in love.

…

i’m terrified.

@fractaele​​.

[sarah-bae-maas]

Food for Thought - Felix and Eleana Growing up Together

Set before and during ACOHAD, a piece I started over a year ago and only just now finished. I would write some, put it down for months at a time, then pick it up again eons later after having struck an idea. Mostly happy tales from a happy family.

***

I

Realistically, Rhys knew that his daughter Eleana was somewhere in the house. He was sure if he tried hard enough he would be able to find her without a second thought. However, the problem was that he also knew she was safe and sound in his home, and that he desperately loved his nephew.

“Where is she, Felix?” he asked the seven-year-old.

His nephew gave him a toothy grin. “I don’t know, Uncle Rhys. We’re playing hide and seek!” He ran around Rhys’s legs snickering like a mad man - or just like his father after a few choice beverages -  and ran into the kitchen. He opened cupboards and looked under benches, and when finding nothing, turned back to his uncle and shrugged.

Rhys knew this game well, it wasn’t the first time Cassian’s son had taken his daughter from her room and hidden her around the house. He always said they were playing games, that Eleana looked awfully bored and it simply wasn’t right for him to let her stay in her room. Rhys had never actually seen Felix take Eleana out of her crib, the boy was too sneaky for his own good, but whenever he heard his daughter gurgling from behind a curtain he knew who was to blame.

“Can you give me a hint, Felix? It’s nearly time to eat and we both know how cranky she gets when she's hungry,” he coaxed his nephew.

Rhys did truly love him. He was so small and similar to the boy Rhys had taken into his own home all those years ago that it was sometimes a shock to see him again. Rhys would then remind himself that no, it’s not Cassian, but yes, it might as well be. But Felix was worth every single bit of trouble he caused, just like his father. And, well, his mother too if Rhys were being honest. Not that Rhys had ever seen Cassian or Nesta in striped overalls like the ones Felix was wearing.

“Hmm, I think Eleana really loves flowers. The roses are her favourite.” Felix sent him an innocent smile and ran into the garden.

Rhys sighed, not an unhappy one, and followed his nephew outside. He should’ve known Felix would’ve taken her outside on a day like this. It was sunny and the sky was perfectly clear. There was a light breeze and it was perfect for flying. Felix had disappeared from sight, probably flown onto the roof again the pesky thing, and Rhys could hear rustling from behind the birdbath. He strolled over leisurely - he was in no hurry, he would know if his was baby daughter was distressed in any way -  to find his girl wiggling around on a bed of leaves right next to the roses.

“There you are.” He smiled at her as he reached down to pick her up. She squirmed a little in his arms but was content to see her father. He kissed her on her rosy cheeks and she snuggled into his arms and nestled her face in his chest. It was moments like this that he wished she would stop growing. She was so small, the smallest most precious thing he had ever held, and he wanted her to forever be this way. With her spattering of freckles like her mother and dark hair like her father she was the most picturesquely wonderful thing anyone had ever seen. She was beloved by the fae in Velaris as well as any faerie she met. It was no surprise that her cousin felt the need to hide her away.

“She’s so pretty, Uncle Rhys. Father told me it’s ‘rather wondrous’ she came from you. Isn’t that funny?” Felix flew behind him and landed on his shoulders, careful not to let his legs hit Eleana.

“Do you know what that means, Felix?” Rhys laughed. With one hand he held his daughter and with the other he reached up to ruffle Felix’s hair. Cassian and Nesta were currently trying for another baby, so every now and again Rhys had the pleasure of looking after his nephew for the day.

“I know it’s enough for mother to hit father over the head if he says it.” Felix tangled his hands in Rhys’s hair to steady himself on his shoulders.

______

 Felix stared into the wide blue eyes of his cousin. Her hands were up and fists clenching towards him. He knew Aunty Feyre had told him not to take Eleana out again, but she looked so bored in her crib. Felix felt the overwhelming urge to protect his cousin. She was very small and delicate, Felix had discovered, and he rather liked her when she wasn’t crying. To Felix, she was perfect. But being sequestered away in this room all the time meant that people rarely saw it. Felix thought Uncle Rhys and Aunty Feyre were wrong about Eleana needing to sleep a lot. Right now it was the middle of the night and yet Eleana was wide awake.

“Don’t worry, Eleana. I’m not tired either.”

Felix flapped his wings, as quietly as he could, and flew into Eleana’s cot. She looked up at him curiously and gave him a toothless smile. He gently picked her up, careful of her little head, and flew out of the cot again. Velaris was so pretty at night, and it was unfair that Eleana never got to see it. Felix was sure Uncle Rhys and Aunty Feyre wouldn’t mind he if he took her out again, just once more.  

He snuck out with Eleana bundled in his arms. As soon as he reached the front door and was out of the house he flew away as quickly as he could. He tried not to jostle her too much and held onto her tightly. She squeaked in delight. She often squeaked; Uncle Rhys said it’s because she’s not old enough to laugh yet.

Felix landed when he reached the walkway adjacent to the sea, and started merrily strolling along with his cousin in his arms. She didn’t seem as happy anymore now that they weren’t flying and started to grumble.

Felix became panicked as her grumbles got louder and soon turned into cries which turned into shrieks. He put her down on the ground and bent over her.

“Stop crying, Eleana, everything’s fine!” Felix tried to reassure the crying baby.

Felix became more nervous as fae stopped to watch him and Eleana. They were giving the pair concerned looks and were whispering to each other. It occurred to Felix for the first time that night that maybe what he was doing was wrong, and he might very well get into trouble for it.

“Felix? Eleana?” Felix spun when he heard the voice of his uncle. Not his Uncle Rhys though, the man in front of him was his Uncle Azriel. He was standing hand in hand with his Aunty Mor, and both had shocked looks on their faces. “What are you doing here?”

Azriel approached them quickly and picked Eleana up off the ground. Her shrieks turned back into whimpers as he shushed her and rocked her in his arms. His shadows surrounded them both - something both Eleana and Felix loved.

“We aren’t tired. She was happy a minute ago, I promise!” Felix answered Mor. Mor shook her head and beheld the child.

“Do Aunty Feyre and Uncle Rhys know where you are? They’ll be panicked if Eleana isn’t there when they wake up,” Mor asked.  

“They said she was tired but she isn’t! I promise I didn’t meant to make her cry.”

Az reassured him that Eleana was okay, and babies cry for even the smallest things. He also chastised him though, and Felix felt tears come to his own eyes as his Uncle Azriel told him off.

“I’m sorry,” Felix cried.

Azriel shook his head and handed the baby to Mor. He leant down and picked up Felix, smoothing the back of his hair as Felix rested his head on his shoulder.

 II

 Family picnics were the best kind of picnics. Cassian had suggested earlier in the day that they take their children to the forest for lunch. Eleana could fly with Felix at her side, and the shrouded trees were a natural roof that could keep his son and niece contained. Eleana, the silly poppet, could fly as well as a wyvern and yet could barely walk. It was rather funny seeing Rhys and Feyre deal with her, and Cassian understood better than anyone what that was like. Felix could fly before he could crawl, and he’d never forget Nesta’s fear the first time he’d flapped his little wings and jetted off.

He looked at the tree tops and smiled at the sight of Felix swinging from branch to branch, Eleana flapping her wings next to him, giggling at the spectacle he was making, red polka dot dress swishing around. Rhys was on the ground, his steps mirroring her every direction. They had just eaten a delicious meal made by Elain, who was visiting with her High Lord. Lucien, moody as always, was clinging onto her relentlessly. Cassian rolled his eyes at how foolish the red-haired fox was. Ha! He would never act that way with his mate.

Felix climbed down the trunk of the tree, his hands and feet using any crevice or branch that they could as a ladder. Rhys caught Eleana as she fluttered down with her cousin, babbling pure nonsense as she landed in his arms. Her tiny hands automatically went to pull at his clothes and hair, a wide smile adorning her face the whole time. Felix landed with a thump on the ground, one of his hands clutching a glittering stone.

“What’s that, Felix?” he asked his son.

“I don’t know, Papa. Eleana found it in the leaves and I took it from her.”

Cassian held out his hand, and hissed when Felix placed a sharp knife into it, cutting his palm. Felix immediately looked panicked, and yelped as Cassian tried to hide the sudden pain.

“I’m sorry!”

Cassian reassured his son it was fine, and even though he was eight and Cassian shouldn’t coddle him, he picked up his son with his other arm and held onto him tightly. As he held Felix in one arm, he inspected the knife in the other. It looked to be pure opal, the hilt onyx, but it was as sharp as an Illyrian blade. There were inscriptions on it too, in a foreign language Cassian did not know. One section stood out though – heritier de le court de nuit.

“Rhys,” he summoned his brother. He turned his face and planted a swift kiss to Felix’s forehead, and let him down to the ground. Rhys came over, Little Eleana snuggled into his chest. He peered over her to look at the knife, and a stony look crossed his face at the sight of it.

“Where was that?”

“Felix said Eleana found it in the trees, so he took it from her,” Cassian explained as Rhys came closer. Rhys held out one hand and healed the cut on Cassian’s palm, and cleared away the blood on the knife.

“This was meant for her.” Rhys swallowed hard, and called Feyre’s name as he tucked Eleana in closer to his body.

Cassian completely understood what he was saying, and started mentally preparing what he and Azriel would have to do. Something like this could’ve been nothing. But found by Eleana? To him, and to Rhys, it seemed like a threat. Azriel and him would scour the forest while Feyre and Rhys locked down Velaris. Nesta and Mor would take Hewn City, the High Fae there hated the cross-bred heir, and see if there were any leads in that damned place.

It was just like any other threat, and yet Cassian hated the thought of not having his son in sight while they investigated it. The threat was against a child of their family, someone so vulnerable and small, and it was an atrocity to even think someone was capable of harbouring such hate against her. They had been anticipating something like this though, but not until she was older. For Cauldron’s sake, Eleana had barely passed a year.

“Lucien and Elain should take the children to the Autumn Court, or maybe even Spring. Two High Lords should be able to keep away anything while we look here,” Cassian suggested.

From the looks of things, Rhys had already told Feyre exactly what was going on through their bond, and with a wave of her hand the picnic was gone, and the others were on high alert.

“Papa? What is she doing?” Felix pulled on his sleeve and whispered, looking directly at Eleana.

She had sat up in Rhys’ arms, and her purple gaze was pinned to the knife. Dark swirls had started to surround her and Rhys, and her few teeth glinted as she smiled. “Put your darkness away, Rhys,” Cassian snorted. “We’ll deal with this quickly.”

Without looking at him, Rhys raised an eyebrow and said, “It’s not mine.”

Cassian watched in awe as Eleana conjured her own magic – perfectly matching her mother and father’s.

 III

 “Papa?”

“Yes, butterfly?” Rhys looked down at his toddler, her eyes wide and glistening, hand pulling at the bottom of his shirt. “Oh, Laya, what’s wrong?” He abandoned the lunch he was preparing and bent down to scoop her up, her tangled ringlets tickling his face as she nuzzled into him. Her little body shook with silent cries, and he patted down her hair as he shushed her.

She made a string of incoherent noises, which Rhys translated as, where is Felix? It’s Tuesday, and we spend Tuesdays with Felix.

His poor baby girl missed her cousin so much, and it had only been a week since she’d seen him. But he no longer lived in Velaris – Cassian and Nesta decided to raise him at the old house. Rhys could see the logic in it. Felix was already too powerful for a boy of ten, and training with the Illyrians and learning their culture would truly help him flourish as a young man.

But Rhys’ heart also twisted as Eleana’s arms went around his neck, still muttering for her cousin.

With one hand, he finished the sandwiches he was making and made her nibble on one, her lower lip jutting out sadly as she did as she was told. With her still on his hip, he walked to the study and scribbled a quick note to Feyre. He could tell her through the bond, but why do that and risk her being mad at him for what he was about to do?

“Come on, let’s go put on your gumboots.” Rhys blew a raspberry on her cheek, making her giggle. It was such a beautiful sound – like bluebirds singing in the morning. “And then, we’re going to go visit Felix.”

Her face lit up at his words, and her hands clapped together. He put her down and she trotted off as quickly as she could to the front door where her bright yellow boots were haphazardly thrown. She plopped on the ground and pulled them on as quick as she could.

She was so damn cute, with her little yellow boots and blue dress, and Rhys was delighted when he picked her up again and winnowed them to the camp.

______

Nesta braided Eleana’s hair as they waited for Cassian and Felix to come home, the elder taking the day to train all the younglings of the camp. Felix, thank the Cauldron, wasn’t behind his age group despite only ever having trained with Cassian, Azriel and Rhys. Actually, he was years ahead of what he should have been. And starting to get tall.

After half an hour or so of waiting, Cassian came in, Felix on his heels.

Rhys raised his eyebrow at the sight of his nephew with a black eye, but guessed he’d endured the same during his training as a child. He’d gotten plenty of bruises in his time here – most gifted to him by Cassian.

Eleana gasped when she saw him, pulling away from Nesta and sliding off the chair she was sitting on. She ran around her uncle’s legs, stopping just before she hit Felix. She had the widest, toothiest smile on her face, and she hopped up and down in excitement as she clasped her hands in front of her.

“Eleana!” Felix exclaimed in surprise. He turned to his father and Rhys. “I didn’t know the baby was coming today.”

“She was missing you,” Rhys explained. “Kept crying because you weren’t there, so I thought we might pop in to say hello.”

“Awh cool, thanks Uncle Rhys.” Felix tugged at Eleana’s plait, squatting so their eyes were level. “How have you been, Little Eleana?”

Eleana babbled nonsensically, occasionally throwing her hands up to exaggerate whatever point she was trying to make. Felix nodded along, brushing back his hair so it was easier to see, making Eleana’s eyes widen. She lifted a finger and prodded his bruise.

“It’s not pretty, I know.”

Eleana smooshed her hands on either side of his face, pulling him forward so she could pucker her lips and kiss the bruise. It was something she did whenever she thought someone might be hurt, and it was awfully adorable.

What was happening now was not what normally happened.

When Felix pulled back, his bruise was gone – no trace of it left on his face.

The boy rubbed at the hurt, eyebrows lifting in shock when he no longer felt pain.

“Thank you.”

She smiled at him, stepping forward to rest her head on him. Felix picked her up, carrying her to the lounge room so they were no longer standing in the entry way. He settled them on the couch, and with Eleana in his lap he finished the braiding Nesta hadn’t gotten a chance to do. He listened to her talk – her telling funny little stories – and when he was finished with her hair he reached over a pulled a ribbon off a bouquet of flowers Feyre had gifted Nesta when she’d moved, tying it into a ribbon in Eleana’s hair.

“Ta!” Eleana chimed.

Rhys loved watching his daughter and nephew interact. She loved him so much, and it was so. Damn. Cute.

He dragged his gaze away from them at the sound of multiple, loud knocks on the door from definitely more than one person. Nesta sighed as though this had happened every day, but Cassian was the one to open it.

Five Illyrian children tumbled through the door, covered in mud and holding a sheepskin ball.

“Hey General, Hey Lady Nesta,” they called as they barrelled through, not acknowledging Rhys.

“Felix, you coming?” The boy holding the ball skidded to a halt at Felix’s side.

“Nah. I’ll see you guys tomorrow. My cousin is here to visit me.”

The children all peeked at Eleana, looking confused.

“She’s pretty small,” one said.

“You can see your cousin anytime you want, come hang out with us.”

Eleana may be young, but she was very smart. She stayed in her position, carefully listening to the children’s words. A grumpy look crossed her face; she didn’t like that these people were trying to take her cousin from her. She was very possessive. Rhys loved it.

Felix noticed her expression too, and once again politely declined their offer, making them roll their eyes and mutter as they left. Felix didn’t seem to care; Eleana narrowed her eyes.

As well as being possessive, she could be surprisingly vindictive for a three-year-old.

Rhys walked over and picked her up, holding her on his hip. “We should go before your mother starts to worry,” he told her.

“So soon?” Felix asked, his eyes wide.

“Go play with your friends, we’ll see you later.” Rhys turned to say goodbye to his brother and Nesta but was stopped by Felix’s hand on his elbow.

“I’d much rather spend time here Uncle Rhys, with Eleana.”

He was a sweet boy, but they really should be on their way. Rhys smiled at him, and said his goodbyes to his family. It would not be long until they saw him again.

 IV

 Eleana looked at the house she would be living in – her lip curling at the thought. She had been here plenty of times to visit Felix, but never had she imagined that her parents would take her away from Velaris too. It was nothing like their townhouse, it was old – literally hundreds of years old – and it smelt and looked like it.

She did not belong here.

She did as her parents asked though, packing away her clothes in her new room, hoping that maybe if she did as she was told they wouldn’t make her stay – wouldn’t make her live as an Illyrian. She was not like her older cousin, she did not want to come home with new bruises every day and fight and train relentlessly.

Any shred of hope she’d had that this would be good was destroyed when Cassian announced that his family would leave so Eleana could come, meaning no Felix. This had been his room, too. She knew because of his heights written on the wall, next to her uncle’s. She traced her finger on the black marks – it was hard to imagine her mighty father and uncles ever being her size.

“How are you going, Butterfly?” Her father was leaning on the doorway, smiling at her.

“I want to go home.”

“I know. But you’ll have so much fun here, I promise.” Rhys bent down to kneel beside her, helping her pack her clothes. “You’ll get to fly all the time, and you’ll have people who can help you get even better. And you’ll get to have friends your age. Isn’t that great!”

Eleana nodded. It would be nice to have friends who were the same as her. Felix was okay, but he was barely around and he was so old. He was as tall as her father, taller even!

“But you won’t always be here.”

Her father’s smile turned tight, and he blinked hard.

Her parents had told her that Papa would have to stay in Velaris a lot of the time; he had to keep the other fae safe. When she asked why Aunty Mor couldn’t just do it, her father explained Mor wasn’t strong enough on her own, and she needed his strength to keep the Night Court peaceful and happy. He’d asked Eleana if she wanted that, if that was okay, and she’d agreed. It was what their family had been made for – to keep their court safe.

“I will come as much as I can. You know I love you more than anything. You do know that, right?”

Eleana sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

He ruffled her hair and then stood, leaning down to kiss her on the head before he left.

Eleana hated this. She hated this house; she hated this room; she hated that she had to stay here and had no choice in it. In what world would she ever want to willingly be here? What would ever make her want to stay?

She threw the shirt she was holding across the room in anger. Her darkness slithered after it, and she was satisfied at the rumble the walls made as it filled the room. That was one thing that would remain the same – her magic was like an extra limb.

She let herself be wrapped in it, not wanting to talk to her mother or father right now. She didn’t want to unpack either, so she wondered over to her window to see what kind of view she had.

She could see houses for acres, and to the side were forests, where she was told the bastards resided if they weren’t in one of her mother’s houses. She wondered which house was the one her cousin was now living in.

And then decided that if there was one person she would like to see, it was him. Without a second thought, she shoved open her window and flew out, flapping above the houses and trees. She got some strange looks from below as she flew overhead, likely from her too-clean, too-fancy fae clothing.

She flew for a while, almost giving up when she saw someone who looked like her cousin standing next to large, wooden frames erected over concrete. She swooped down to see if it was Felix, and was delighted to see that it was.

He had stacks of blue and white paper in his hand and a quill tucked behind his ear. He looked up when he saw her, a smile breaking over his face.

“What’re you doing here, Little Eleana?”

“Firstly, I’m not little. And secondly, where are your manners? You should be happy to see me.”

He put a hand over his heart like she’d hurt him. “Such words! One might think you were a teenager.”

“Maybe if I was I wouldn’t have to be here.”

She landed next to him and he ruffled her already wild hair. “You talk like you’re thirteen.”

“It’s called having a good vocabulary because of reading. You should try it some time.”

“The sass!” He winked at her and tucked the papers under his arms. He then swished his hand out before them, showing off the concrete and timber. “What do you think?”

“Wow. Wood. It’s amazing,” she said sarcastically.

“You wound me, Laya, but this is actually something very, very important.” He led her over to it, proud as can be. “This, Little One, is going to be my very own house.”

She looked at him in astonishment. “Like, a brand-new house? Not one that is hundreds of years old and smells like boy?”

Felix snickered. “Indeed.”

“Who will live with you?” She took a step into the foundations of his house, walking through it, pretending that it was done and she was going through the finished product.

“I’ll live here on my own; I don’t really want to live with anyone else.”

“What about your parents?”

Felix shuffled in behind her. “They will be returning to Velaris.”

Eleana gasped and whipped her head to look at him. “They’re leaving?! Without you?!”

He nodded. “I’m old enough now, and soon they’ll have another child to care for.”

Eleana’s mind ticked like a clock, an idea forming in her brain. “Felix…”

“Yes, Laya?”

“What if instead of living in that grungy house, I come live with you!”

Felix looked at her gently, awkwardly patting her on the head. “No can do, Laya. I’m an adult now, I need space away from children.”

Eleana scoffed, not letting go of her genius plan. “You’re only seventeen.”

“And you’re only ten. Besides, your parents would never allow it.”

As Felix said the words, a thickness spread in the air accompanied by the booming sounds of wings flying close by. Felix looked up to watch the High Lord as he landed, cringing as he realised Rhys didn’t know Eleana was gone.

“Hey, Rhys.”

Eleana’s father walked straight past her cousin, not stopping until he was looming over her with his arms crossed. “What do you think you’re doing sneaking out like that?” he seethed.

Eleana supressed an eye roll.

Rhys noticed though, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re coming home, now. And don’t you dare argue with me young lady.”

“If you want me to go home, then take me back to Velaris, old man.”

Felix snorted so hard at their bickering that both the heir and High Lord turned to glare at him.

 V

 Felix walked out of the treacherous entrance to the Bloodrite, Illyrians roaring and cheering for him as he did. He was one of the last to leave, and tales of his victories had already spread far and wide. He grinned at the men and women surrounding him, looks of astonishment and awe on all their faces. And damn straight there was. Felix worked hard to get where he was, and he felt he deserved the praise he was going to get from strangers, from comrades, from his family.

“Oh my sweet baby boy!” His mother rushed to him when she saw him, freely shoving people aside with her elbows to get to him quicker. When she reached him, she cradled his face in her hands and pressed a tender kiss to his dirt stained cheek.

“Did you hear?” he asked, worried. “I did well, I promise.”

Her eyes were soft. “I heard, and I’m so proud of you.” She hugged him, and he smiled as he wrapped his arms around his short mother.

His father approached, much more similar to his height. Felix was well over a head taller than his mother.

“Felix.” His father’s voice cracked, but he did not know why. “You were amazing – the best they’ve seen in decades.”

With a shock, Felix realised his father’s voice had cracked from pride, the same emotion making the stoic man tear up slightly.

It would have been a nice moment, a chance to show his brothers exactly what he was worth, if Felix hadn’t been surprised by a fist colliding with his face.

“What the fu-”

“How dare you go into the Bloodrite without saying goodbye!” Eleana was next to him, her darkness swarming at her feet in anger. Felix flinched back – not from the hard hit, but because he didn’t expect such wrath from a twelve-year-old.

“There was no reason to tell you,” he defended himself.

“All a number of things could have happened! And did you think I wouldn’t notice? I go to your house every day you buffoon.”  

Felix put his hand across his chest and blinked hard at her. He was trying to muster a defence, until he realised he was being chewed out by a young girl with a harder hit than half the Illyrians he had just battled through. Rather than using his wits against her, perhaps it would be simpler to just apologize.

“I’m sorry, Laya.” He tugged on her braid. “From now on, I shall make an itinerary a week in advance and give it to you, so you know my whereabouts at all times.” He couldn’t help being a little sarcastic.

Her mouth opened in indignation with a haughty gasp. “I don’t need to know where you are at all times!”

Nesta and Cassian stepped back, watching on in pure amusement.

Eleana stamped her foot and jabbed a finger at him. “But if you are going somewhere dangerous, I would like to know! I know what happens in the Bloodrite, and you could never have come back! What would I have done then, huh? You could have at least said goodbye.” Her dark eyebrows we’re furrowed in scorn.

That’s when Felix realised that she was not mad at all, not really, but rather incredibly scared. Her fear for him was unnecessary, but also madly endearing.

His glanced sideways at her parents, his father grinning ear to ear at the spectacle. “Eleana asked to accompany us to welcome you back; I had no idea this was why.” His hidden laughter was clear in his tone.  

Felix ignored him, and turned back to his cousin who now had her arms crossed over her chest with a scowl.

Felix could hear his name being called, likely he was being summoned to receive his tattoos, but he first wanted to make peace with his small, fiery cousin. He knelt so they were at the same eye level, and gave her a gentle smile. “I promise not to go somewhere dangerous again without telling you. I’m sorry I made you worry, and I give you free reign to punish me for it for the next month. And I’ll make you lavender and white chocolate scones to make up for it.”

“That sounds…” She pondered for a second. “Like a good start.” She took him by the elbow and led him in the direction of the calls. She gestured for Nesta and Cassian to follow, making his father laugh jollily. “From what I’ve heard you have a lot of ‘promise.’ So, what did you even do in the Bloodrite?” Eleana asked of him, her mood over. For now.

 VI

 Felix was cooking away, trying to perfect his technique for chicken parmigiana so that when his parents brought his baby sister over he could feed them a good, wholesome meal. The desserts were already excellent, he’d had that perfected for years, but there was just something about cooking chicken in a wood fire oven that made it dryer than he would’ve preferred.  

He hummed to himself as he prepared the spicy paste he was going to use between the ham and cheese, but stopped when he heard a faint knocking at his door. He didn’t know who it would be at this time of night, so he was cautious when he moved to open it.

He relaxed the moment he saw who it was, and greeted his cousin with a kind smile.

“Hey, Laya. What are you doing here?”

She didn’t respond, but instead just looked at the ground. That’s when Felix took in her appearance, really took it in.

She was hunched over slightly, her hands clenched at her abdomen. Her hair was wet and tangled, and her face had lost its colour. She was shaking, and her shoulders were slumped but still tense. She had her legs crossed tightly, and she was sniffling loudly.

“Can you please help me?” she whispered.

Felix ushered her in, making her sit on the couch while he rushed to get his first aid kit. He came back, and she had wrapped the quilts he left on the couch for his baby sister Quathryn to use around her. She had started to weep, and he knelt down in front of her to brush away the tears.

“What happened?” Felix was murderous. Whoever had done this would feel the full force of his power as he eviscerated them.

She breathed sharply. “I was with a g-guy and he – he was, like.”

Felix smoothed back her hair and rested his hands on her cheeks, making her look at him. “Did he touch you, Eleana? I will kill him.”

“No, no, it’s not like that. I – I wanted to be with him. Like that. You know?”

Felix nodded, understanding what Eleana was saying. She’d had sex before, she had told him after it had happened, but she was fifteen, and Cauldron he worried about her. She always acted, and did things, like people who were much older, and he was scared one day she would be harmed by that.

“So you were having sex with this man…”

“And he was – the way he – Felix it hurts. A lot. He stopped when I told him to, but then he didn’t help me, and I was so embarrassed that I just winnowed and I didn’t know where to go. I just – I didn’t know it could be as rough as it was, I wasn’t prepared.” She had started crying again, and Felix brought her in close to hug her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder, her cries of embarrassment but also pain.

“Okay, this is what we’re going to do. I’m going to tell Feyre you’re staying for dinner, and then later I’ll tell her you fell asleep and that you can just stay here. And right now, I’m going to prepare you a bath so you can soak, and while you do that I’m going to get a healer – a female healer – to come look at you. Then we’re going to have a very long conversation about safe and consensual sex, do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Who was it?”

She whispered his name.

“Did you use any form of protection?”

“I’m fae, it’s not like I’d get pregnant anyway.”

“Oh Laya, there are things a million times worse than pregnancy that you can get if you’re not careful.” He shook his head ruefully, and left her be to start the bath. He poured all sorts of salts and oils into it – it was a sensory overload – and when it was nice and hot he fetched Eleana and helped her get in, averting his gaze to give her at least a semblance of privacy.

He summoned a healer, and left them alone in the bathroom. He’d made sure he got the nicest, loveliest person he could to make Eleana feel at ease. The female looking after her was an elderly plump lady, who had a soft face and kind smile.

When he knew they were in the thick of conversation, he crept out of his house and flew, his destination clear in his mind.

As a prominent figure in camp, he knew the majority of the soldiers that surrounded him.

Including the one that had hurt Eleana.

He didn’t bother knocking on the door. Instead, he calmly walked in until he found the only closed door. He pushed it open, and was met with the sight of the three-hundred-year-old male that had taken advantage of his cousin still lying naked in his bed, as though he hadn’t moved at all since she’d left.

He male’s head snapped up at the sound of Felix entering, and then snapped against the headboard as Felix grabbed him by the hair and slammed him into it. Felix then smashed his fist into his face, happy to hear his noise crack. Felix grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back making the unsuspecting male role over. He slid his arm under the males, then pushed – and easy technique to dislocate someone’s shoulder. The male screamed, and Felix didn’t give a fuck.

“You ever touch her again,” he growled into the now whimpering male’s ear, “I will rip out your spinal cord, then leave you to die in a puddle of your own piss and blood.”

He left the male there, blood still on his hands.

_____

Felix returned to the house just as the healer was leaving. She raised an eyebrow at his bruised knuckles, but didn’t comment on them. He thanked her profusely, and said he would pay her tomorrow morning. The woman refused, and was on her way.

Eleana was in one of his spare robes, curled on the couch with a book in her hand. She smiled slightly at him as he entered, eyes catching on his hands.

“What is that?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, Laya.” He sat across from her on his lounge chair, the coffee-table the only thing between them.

She closed her book and sighed heavily. “We don’t need to talk about it anymore.”

“Oh yes, yes we do. You want to hide this from your mother? Fine with me. But by doing that it means your blinding yourself to a world of essential knowledge.”

“I won’t get pregnant, Felix.”

“That’s not that I’m talking about. Pregnancy is of course serious, but there is so much more you need to know if you’re going to be sexually active. Firstly, rare or not, you should be taking a protection tonic. They’re easily accessible and dirt cheap – you have no reason not to. There are also things you should be doing to prevent diseases.”

“Diseases?”

“Yes, horrible things that transfer during sex. Some are treatable, some are not, and you need to be careful.”

“Why have I never heard of this before?”

“You would if you went to a school in Velaris, but the Illyrians don’t teach it. And they really should be the ones that do. It’s hard to have exact numbers, but as far as reports show sexually transmitted illnesses run far more rampart at Illyrian camps than fae settlements – likely because Illyrians have a ridiculous stigma around the topic. There are tonics you can get to help, other ways too. I would gladly, gladly take you to get some. No one would ever have to know.”

“Do you use these things?”

“Most definitely. So does anyone I share relations with.”

Eleana wiggled her eyebrows. “Ah yes, relations.”

“I even made my current… friend, get tests before I went anywhere near them.”

Eleana’s eyes brightened. “Do you have someone? And you haven’t told me!”

“That isn’t the topic at hand.”

Eleana was too encumbered by the news of Felix dating to stop talking about it now. “Well? Who is it?”

Felix shook his head. “Just a friend.”

“You’re definitely friendlier with your friends then I am. Please tell me. It would make me feel better.”

Felix’s gaze and voice softened. “Did the healer help? Are you still in pain?”

Eleana looked down, twiddling her thumbs. “Yes, no. A little bit. More than the pain, I feel out of control, and I don’t like that.”

“I’m really happy you came to me for help. And now you know, for the future, that things can be very unpredictable. There’s nothing wrong with talking to your partner before sex, to tell them what you are and aren’t comfortable with. And if they don’t want to have that conversation? Or if they don’t respect your wishes? You shouldn’t be having sex with them. Plain and simple. They aren’t worth your time or body.”

“Felix?”

“Yes?”

“Please tell me about your friend.”

He laughed, a deep, comforting sound that warmed the room. “It’s nothing, really. Just the occasional… thing.”

“Thing? Who is it? I can’t believe they don’t pay you more attention!”

Felix smiled at her indignation. “We couldn’t be more even if I wanted. It’s not something that would last.”

“Why not?”

“He’s in a position of power that would make things… problematic between us. I’m happy just as friends, and occasionally a little more. Besides, I’m more than certain that I feel more for him than he does me, and that’s okay. I went into this knowing it was nothing more than carnal attraction on his side.”

“Him?” Eleana’s voice was curious, her eyes wide and – welcoming.

“I’m open to connection, no matter where it comes from. I find both males and females attractive, and I think it’s good to explore your sexuality if you’re being safe about it.”

Eleana hopped off the couch and walked around the table, perching on the arm of his chair. “I had a feeling, I just didn’t want to say anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t matter in the slightest. You are no less a warrior, no less my cousin, no less Illyrian. It doesn’t change a single thing about you. I don’t know anyone who would feel differently.” She kissed the top of his head. “Besides, I can’t judge you for wanting dick when I clearly do to.” She smirked at him and pinched his shoulder, making Felix laugh again.

“There’s also the fact that everyone knows but you.”

“What.”

“I’ve made it no secret. And you’re right – it doesn’t change anything. Now, I want you to sit and read while I make us some dinner. I’m trying some stuff out with parmas and I think you’ll love it.”

 VII

 “Happy birthday you idiot.”

“Hey!” Eleana snapped playfully. “That line is usually reserved for me.”

She unwrapped the present Felix had given her gleefully, gasping in delight at the outfit he’d gotten her. It was a white two-piece outfit, and reminded her so much of Velaris that she clutched it to her chest. “Thank you!”

“You’re seventeen now. I won’t lie to you, it’s a pretty boring year.”

“Look, you aren’t wrong there.” She was delighted to be spending her birthday in Velaris. Right now, she was dining with Felix and Quathryn, the tot in a high chair right next to her, happily ripping up and playing with the discarded wrapping paper Eleana put in front of her. And although Eleana was overjoyed, Felix didn’t seem to be. He was putting on a good show, but Eleana could see there was something wrong – even if she couldn’t decipher what it was.

She reached across the table and placed her hands on his. “You okay?”

“Yeah – yeah. I’m ‘right,” he said distantly. “I’ll tell you when it’s not your birthday. I don’t want to spoil anything.”

Eleana squeezed his hands. “Tell me you idiot. Gossip is the best gift you could give me.”

He looked at her thoughtfully, and then sighed sadly. “It’s stupid. I have no right to be upset over it.”

She looked at him in concern. They were lucky that the restaurant they were out was closed for a few hours so they could dine in peace. They were on a lovely balcony, the balustrades wrapped in flowers, overlooking the river. There was no one to overhear them – the serving staff were in the kitchen, and Cauldron knows Quathryn had no idea what was going on.

“I was dumped yesterday,” Felix said.

“Dumped?” Eleana wasn’t even aware he was officially dating anyone. Felix had many partners, but they were all temporary at best.

“By my – what do you like to call him? My mysterious man.”

Ah yes. Felix’s most consistent hook-up. He would disappear for a few days every two months or so, and has been doing so for years, just so he could have debaucherously wild sex with a male Eleana was not permitted to know anything about.

“Why? You’re the greatest. I don’t see why anyone wouldn’t want to be with you. I see all the people that fawn over you like you’re a God.”

Felix laughed slightly at her words. “Maybe that was a part of it – he didn’t like sharing, even though neither of us was only with the other. He told me he just didn’t want to be with me like that anymore.”

“You poor thing.” She got up to walk around the table – hugging him around the shoulders from behind and leaning her chin on his head. “I know what we can do to make it better, we might just have to take Quathryn home first.”

Eleana looked at her smallest cousin, a conniving look on her face.

_____

“You know I didn’t believe you when you first told me what we were going to do, but I should have had faith in you.” Felix said as he blew up yet another little explosive.

Eleana yelled in delight at the bright flames, the fire heating her face. “You know I never disappoint.”

Eleana lit another spark, running away so she wasn’t caught in its crossfire. Felix went up, watching the small explosions from above. “And you’re sure Glaslane won’t mind us destroying his fields?”

Eleana smirked up at her cousin, his face much happier and brighter than it had been an hour ago. She wasn’t able to ply more details from him, but she didn’t need to. She had all the information she’d needed to know – Felix was hurting, and she was going to make it better. She also didn’t feel the need to pry. Although Felix was constantly trying to yield any information from her he could when it came to her life, she didn’t do the same to her very private cousin. He would tell her one day, when he was ready.

“What Glaslane doesn’t know won’t hurt him!”

Felix let out a loud, bawdy laugh at her words, and sparked more of the little fizzlers that were causing them such entertainment.

Felix flew to Eleana’s side, engulfing her in a hug. Surprised by the sudden change in emotion, Eleana hugged him back and stayed silent.

“Thank you, Laya. Sometimes I wonder what I’ll do without you.”

“Oh Felix.” She could hear the pain in his raw voice. “I promise you we’ll never be apart for long.”

 IX

 “…I have a story to tell you. A tale about a boy and a girl and a room.”

“Please tell me it’s not what I think. It’s one thing to know it happened, but I really don’t need details.”

Eleana linked her arms with him and started to walk in the direction of the stairs that graced the mountain below them. “It’s not what you think.” No, she was not going to tell Felix the details of her one and only night spent with Kaden. As glorious as the hours in that stable were, that was not the tale she would spin for him today.

“Oh thank the Cauldron.” Felix put a hand over his chest and pretended to slump in relief. Eleana just rolled her eyes at him, and made sure she veered them away from their older family members now conversing in the library. Arguments about what to do about the creatures had already started, and Eleana was too tired to get involved. “So, what tale do you have to tell me young one?”

Eleana nudged open the door that led outside, and was grateful for the blast of air to clear her mind. She sat on the steps, Felix lowering himself next to her, and promptly rested her head on his shoulder.

“I visited Kaden’s childhood home,” she said slowly. It was difficult to get the words out, the syllables like claws in her throat. “It was a very sad place.”

“I imagine it would be.” Felix patted her head. “You have no need to worry now, Laya. Kaden is safe with us – I’d never let his brothers near him again.”

“There are some things that distance cannot erase - like memories, and emotions, and scars.” She turned her head to look directly at him.

Felix returned her gaze, no sign of his easy–going nature present on his face. He was all concern, all fatigue, and she almost felt bad for sharing this burden with her cousin. She had to share though, had to tell someone before she burst.

“Kaden will have the weight of what happened to him on his shoulders for a long time, and all we can do is love him, Laya. Teach him not just that he is loved, but also how he can. I know he struggles with showing and comprehending his feelings.”

“I know, and this isn’t about that. Or well, it is, but it’s also about me.”

“Because you’re his mate?”

“No, yes, kind of, oh hush!” She slapped his knee as he started to laugh next to her. “Just let me tell the story, okay?”

“Okay, okay. Now hurry along, I have plans tonight.” He pinched her shoulder and shut up.

“Once upon a time, there was a small butterfly who was haunted by horrible dreams.” Eleana fought to make her voice steady, but it occasionally wavered. This was the only way she could think of to tell Felix what she knew. She had always found solace in stories, and hopefully telling this like a fairy tale would help make revealing it easier. “She would wake up crying and in pain, because even though none of her injuries were physical, her bones still ached and her soul still filled with sorrow. For years, she lived with these dreams not knowing what they were or why they were happening, but one day something truly miraculous happened. She met another butterfly, and oh how she loved him. He did not know it, but they were soul bonded. This butterfly, though, thought that he was a moth who did not deserve the love she wanted to give him. She didn’t understand why, until she saw his cacoon.” Eleana’s voice hitched. “It was a hideous place, the type of vile seen only in the darkest parts of a spider’s mind. He wanted to show her so she knew where he came from.” Eleana choked on her words, and covered her eyes in a fruitless attempt to clear away the visions of what happened to Kaden. “But he did not need to show her, for she had always seen this Room. Their bond was so strong that even as children, she had seen visions of him and his life. As she slept at night, he was tormented, and she always saw, not knowing it was – not knowing it was real.”

She pulled up her knees and hunched over them. She could feel Felix shaking her, and could hear him calling her name.

“Felix,” she gasped. A seizing rhythm started to go through her body, and she could feel herself starting to hyperventilate.

“Breathe, Eleana.”

“I can’t.” It felt as though spiders, the ones she had used to play Kaden’s brothers, were crawling in and out of her skin, gnawing and scratching in their wake. It felt as though the individual hairs on her head were being pulled like the strings on an instrument, and her lungs felt like they were being constricted and she would never breath properly again.

“Yes, you can. Breathe, Little One. With me, okay? One, two, three. Again. One, two, three.”

Eleana followed the sound of his voice, and as shaky as she was, she was able to calm herself down enough to look at him. “We can never let him leave us, Felix. We can never let him return there.”

“Over my dead body will Kaden be anywhere but safe with us. You have my word, Eleana.”

Eleana threw herself into the comfort of his arms, letting her brother hold and reassure her, knowing his strength would bleed into her if she let it. It was times like this where she seriously questioned how people we’re able to function without siblings. Even though Felix was not her actual brother, he treated her with as much love and care as he did his sisters, and she cared for him just the same. Which made what happened to her mate, to Felix’s best friend, that more revolting. Your brothers, or sisters, where meant to protect you at all costs – and Kaden’s whole family was a monumental let down.

“How they were able to treat him that way baffles me,” Felix said into her hair. “The Room… I feel I know him better now. We know him better now. And now we can help him heal. And not just him.” Felix touched her chin to make her look at him. “But also you, Little Laya. Now, I can better help you.”

 X

 Eleana snapped the fresh sheets into place as Felix ate an apple beside her, watching her dutifully as she arranged Kaden’s room while he was at the Bloodrite. She had coloured everything in deeps blues and golds, and had even replaced the bed with one that was longer and wider. She also had a loveseat added, quilts and pillows thrown over it artily.

Felix had not failed to notice that although Kaden would most definitely love this room, it was also very distinctly Eleana. He couldn’t help but question her on it.

“I hate to break it to you, but I will be here. A lot. And he loves me. He would want my touch added.” She started to arrange the comforter. “I think it’s quite homely. It’s very different from his home at Azriel and Mor’s, but different in a good way. I see him being very happy waking up here every day.”

“It’s funny how things have changed.” Felix went to sit on the freshly made bed, but a squeak from Eleana stopped him. He looked at her like she was crazy.

“He has to be the first on it,” she explained.

Felix rolled his eyes, but stood anyway. “You know, I never thought I’d be grateful Feyre walked in on you – as mortifying as it is. At least now we can move forward.”

Eleana shuddered at the memory, but the smile on her face held. “We?”

“I forgot how self-involved you are when it comes to him.” Felix picked up one of her ornate pillows and threw it at her face, just to see her squirm.

“Stop it,” she whined.

“It wasn’t until poor Kaden was inflicted with your parents that he could finally start coming to peace. He may have seemed fine to you, but I saw the worry in his eyes every time you left.”

“I know of his fears,” she said in a far cheerier voice than Felix expected. “And I know that with every passing milestone they become less and less. Soon, he will have no trepidations about our relationship at all.”  

Felix raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t everyday someone expressed how… not unstable, not even precarious, but how questionable their relationship with the love of their life was with such hope. “I agree.”

“I’m glad you can see the change in him too.” Eleana came to his side, and absentmindedly rested her head on his shoulder. She was still so little to Felix, and although they were talking about something that was the complete opposite of juvenile, in that moment she was the toddler that would hum while he braided her hair. The young child that would make her father hold her hand while she waited for Felix to finish training, still scared by the big Illyrians that would stare at her. The girl who would beg her mother to make an extra serving of dinner just in case he came to visit them that night.

“I’m proud of you, you know. You’ve gone through so much; I can’t believe it’s nearly been a year. I still remember Kaden after you two first met. That boy is many things, but subtle isn’t one of them. I’m sure he thought he was being sly when he asked about you, but damn it was clear that boy was already quite taken with you.”

“Are you coming over tomorrow?” She changed the subject, and Felix wasn’t mad about it. They spent a lot of time talking about Kaden – sometimes it was like they forgot about the other aspects of their lives.

“Once I’ve finished training with the Elite I will. I have dinner plans, though, with my parents and sisters. I’m going to help supervise Thea during her tummy time. Quathryn calls her Thea the Finger Thief now, it’s so bloody cute. Especially since Quathryn still struggle with her ‘th’ sounds, and Thea really does like to steal people’s fingers. Pops them right into her mouth.”

Eleana sighed, right as Felix heard her stomach rumble loudly. He snickered, and she tapped his shoulder, scorning him for his rudeness.

“We can’t have that in my home. Come, I’ve run out of food from breakfast and lunch, the Elite eat my stuff like they’ve been fasting, but I’m happy to whip something up.”

She nodded gratefully, and followed Felix to the kitchen and watched him prepare them some food from scratch.

“So, what are we doing tomorrow?”

“I dunno. Maybe play some cards, go shopping. I’m sure tomorrow will be as uneventful as ever.”

Felix scoffed. “When have our lives ever been uneventful?”

She watched him in silence as he kneaded out some dough he had proofing overnight that he was planning to cook later, and added bacon strips, cheese, and a spattering of other things to it before lighting the flames in his oven to cook it. It wouldn’t take too long, so he also took the opportunity to clean up after his mess.

“This is going to be amazing,” Eleana said.

“It’s just a snack.”

“Not your bread – although I’m sure it’ll be fabulous.”

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her in question.

“When he comes home… I know there are still struggles we face. The creatures, and the transition from bastard to respected colleague… But Felix, can you see it? How different our lives will be now? Your best friend finally living with you, and my mate, happily with me – no secrets between us and our family. I hope he realises what our bond is soon, but I honestly don’t even care at this point. He doesn’t need to know I’m his mate to be totally, and utterly devoted to me. And you, the brother you’ve always wanted. I can’t fathom having a friendship like yours, a bond in and of itself.”

“What has brought this on?”

“I’m just so excited.”

Felix could see how bright she was, love for Kaden and for himself radiating from her like rays from the sun.

“I’m excited too, Little Laya. This Bloodrite will change all our lives.”