A Feyre x Rhysand Fan Fiction

Part 3

The next day, Feyre was surprised when Tamlin came into her room. She couldn't help but smile up at him, mostly because she hadn't seem him over the course of the last few days, but also because she still loved him. Probably more than anything else in the world - other than her daughter. She knew that he was hesitant to come the rest of the way into the room, having knocked on the door and opened it just barely. His back was still to the hallway outside, but at least this was some sort of progress. 

"Hi." she murmured. She wasn't sure what else to say, not when there were so many words that were floating around in her mind, some of them shouting at her to speak, others crying and sobbing that she didn't deserve him. She knew she didn't deserve happiness with him. Feyre had known that ever since they had returned from Under the Mountain. Despite that, however, she still needed to apologize for lying to him, "Tamlin - ." she started, but he shook his head, cutting her off.

"I don't need an explanation as to why you did it. And I don't need an explanation as to why you didn't tell me about it." he drew closer, inch by inch, until he was sitting in the same chair that Lucien had been sitting in the previous day, "I just need you to answer me one thing."

"Of course." she breathed. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, and in his gold-green eyes she could see worry and fear for what her answer would bring them both. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know what he had to question her about - but she knew that she needed to answer him, and answer him truthfully, even if it pained her.

"Do you still love me?" his voice cracked in pain as he asked the words and she felt her heart sputter in her chest, her blood running cold. How could he ask her something like that? Didn't he know that she still loved him? Feyre loved Tamlin more than the air itself. He was her sunlight, her warmth, and she would never give him up for the world. Funny, how things had changed so drastically from when she first arrived in Prythian. If she had still been hunting for her family, sleeping in that run-down cottage, and someone had asked her if she could ever love one of the High Fae, she would have laughed in their face. She would have bent over laughing if they had said that she would become High Fae, too. 

Her hand drifted up to meet his cheek, his cheekbones sharp against her fingers. Her hands weren't as callused as they used to be. They were softer now, seeing that she didn't really go hunting anymore. Painting was an easier task, and something that she loved far more. Colors and hues stretched across her mind and she wished that she could go to her painting room to capture them all, but she couldn't and she needed to answer her High Lord.

"Always. I will always love you." she whispered.

She knew that when his eyes searched her face and her blue eyes. He was searching for evidence that she was lying. Her energy roiled in her veins and she closed her eyes before letting it expand in the air around them, a cool chill descending upon them, her shadows and sparks pulling him closer to her. They could both taste the metallic of her magic and in her arms, Dahlia's nose crinkled at the smell. Though she was sleeping, as she often did at this point in the day, she could still smell the magic. Feyre pulled Tamlin closer until their foreheads touched.

"I love you will everything that I am, Tamlin." she promised him. Then, so quietly that she knew no one else could hear, she pressed her lips to his and kissed him. She wasn't about to give up on them, and if that meant that she could no longer even look at Rhysand, then she would do it. Half of her heart may have belonged to him, but the other half belonged to Tamlin and she would not tear herself in two just to keep them both happy. She would rather keep one happy and loved than risk losing the both of them.

Tamlin's lips were soft as they pressed against hers and she knew just by the pressure of them on hers that he was trying hard not to let her consume him. He was still angry, still doubting and unsure of her and her feelings towards him. Feyre wasn't sure how she could convince him that she loved him still, other than by her words and actions alone. Perhaps he would give her time to prove herself, just as he had done in the beginning of their relationship. She sighed into him, one arm still wrapped around Dahlia, while the other curled into his soft blond curls and then he was pulling away.

After a few minutes of silence, of them just staring at each other, Tamlin cleared his throat and said, "Lucien told me you named her Dahlia."

That made Feyre finally smile, and she nodded, "Yes." Just as she had noticed with Lucien the previous day, she noticed that Tamlin was staring down at her daughter, as if he wanted to hold her in his arms, to feel her weight and see that she was not a threat. She grinned and extended her daughter toward him, "Lucien held her yesterday. Do you want to hold her? She's sleeping, so you have to be gentle with her." she knew that Tamlin would never harm her daughter, even if she was technically Rhysand's as well. Dahlia was Feyre's more than anything, and she would make that point evidently clear when Rhysand finally came looking for her.

Tamlin took Dahlia in his arms silently, careful not to move too quickly or jostle her too much as he cradled her in his arms. He was so gentle with her, and though Feyre knew that he had been expecting to be a father when she had told him she was pregnant, she knew that he was still nervous about having a child in the manor, even if it was not his. She could only imagine what would happen if she gave birth to another child, the next one being Tamlin's. Feyre wasn't sure when that would happen - if it would happen - but she had to hope that Tamlin would treat Dahlia as his own, considering she would be staying there with them.

"She looks like you." Tam sighed.

That made Feyre laugh. There were some aspects of her daughter that were unmistakably Rhysand, but there were also things like the way she slept, or her quiet, unassuming nature that Feyre knew belonged to her. When Dahlia had opened her eyes yesterday, Feyre had been more than surprised to see that her daughter did not have Rhysand's blue-violet eyes, but her soft blue ones, twinkling like the stars in the night sky. Perhaps over time, Dahlia's eyes would appear more violet than blue, but in the meantime, her daughter looked more like her and for that she was thankful.

"She does." Feyre agreed, nodding. Tamlin seemed to be intrigued with her daughter and for that she was grateful. She had thought that he would have hated her - hated Dahlia for the mistakes Feyre had made, though that was not fair in the slightest. Feyre was glad that she was wrong about that.

Tamlin looked up abruptly, at some noise that she heard, too, then handed Dahlia back over to Feyre and stood, going for the door. At the last second he turned back to her, his eyes smoldering and soft, "I'll come back later." and it was a promise. She nodded and let him go.