Sound of silence

part 33

the house had been so silent. feyre had started bleeding a few hours ago. Azriel was pacing between rooms, althea resting in one his high lady and friend in another.

althea woke when she heard it, rhysands roar that echoed Azriel only hours ago, she knew in that moment that feyre was dying. she could feel azriels sadness as she watched through the bond as he and cassian held rhys. she saw madja trying to help a bleeding feyre, they had cut the baby out, there was blood everywhere.

althea watched through her mates eyes as nesta wore the crown and mask, an the harp in her arms. she watched silently making her way to the other room using the wall as support, she felt the magic as nesta plucked the strings, and as she gave the cauldron back its magic. she felt the air change as what was stolen was returned.

when she finally did enter the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe panting for breath she stumbled in place at what she saw. rhysand kneeling with nesta crying in her arms.

"why didn't I get a hug?" althea broke the silence catching everyone's attention.

"thea." nesta stood pulling her sister into a bone crushing hug, her tears not slowing. "I did it. the curse, I figured it out."

"you can explain later, I still very much feel like the walking dead." althea smiled through her tears, nodding nesta helped her over to feyres bedside, her fingers grazing azriels as she passed.

"you did so well fey, so well." althea kissed feyres brow as they curled into each other, everyone watched as they embraced one another, they all knew that they may have lost all three of the sisters that night but somehow against all odds and fate itself, they looked death in the face and laughed. even the mother, the cauldron and the weaver of fate had been powerless to stop their will, a strength that fate wove without realising, courage from the mother to face all odds, and life of fae from the cauldron. maybe these rulers of fate and destiny would come to regret what they had given the sisters but maybe just maybe there was something bigger coming, something that they would need to rely on one another for.

feyre and rhysand named there baby boy nyx, his dark hair and blue eyes made him a perfect mix of his parents. each person took turns holding him, even Azriel no matter how hesitant finally held him, his mate watched as he was more gentle and alert she had ever seen him as he cooed his nephew to sleep.

"tell me, what happened?" feyre asked.

"I died, I know I did. I remember watching the sun set in azriels arms when it all went black. I was wondering around for what felt like hours in pure darkness. then it was like I was being pulled in all different directions it was so painful I screamed. I remember feeling different for a split second I could see myself through his eyes so I held on a refused to let go. then I woke up crying, still in pain but I couldn't feel that dreaded curse sucking away my life, I felt myself almost, a very tired self." feyre smiled as she held her sister close,

" we all felt the magic, it was powerful." feyre said.

"Me next." Cassian asked holding out his aems for althea who smiled and cutled againts him. "Im so glad your okay thea. I love you so much." She smiled against his chest nodding.

"Love you to brother." She felt him tense a little but relaxed and held her even tighter. When they pulled away she noticed the tears going down his face that he made little effort to remove.

"Don't." He said shaking his head, althea beamed and shook her head sitting back down watching her family. Rhysand layed with feyre curled at his side. Mor now had baby nyx, nesta curled into cassians side watching her nephew sleep. Azriel sat beside althea pulling her close.

"I love you, shadow singer." Althea watched as his shadows curled around her wrist just like the day they first met. Looking back she was shocked at how fast things seemed to go, like she barely had time to breath but now maybe she could. Now she had time to aoend with her family, her mate without something looming over them.

Family was a strange way of explaining there dynamic. Each person brought something different to the table. But each and every one of them cared deeply and loved fiercely.

Maybe to on lookeds they'd be crazy. Illyrian brutes, a half breed of a high lord with a temper tantrum. A genral with a large ego. A shadow singer with looks that could kill. The morrigan with her wine and fancy dresses. Amren. Feyre, cursebreaker, first high lady. Nesta, owner of the dread trove. Elain, the kind sister. Althea, the one who taunts death.

Maybe they wheren't who we first imagined. Maybe things could have been done differently but non of them would be say here now if fate chose otherwise.