A Court of Shorts and Storys

What If: No Red Roses Part 2

Rhysand sat in front of her, they didn't speak as she struggled with the words. He was just there as company. Tamlin was never there, he was at her side in the bed, but other then that, he was gone. But Rhysand was there, guiding her with the words. If this was all she would do during her visits here, it might not have be so bad. Rhysand stood up, taking Feyres attention away from the texts.

"I will advice you to rest for the rest of the day, this night we will see what the Night Court can offer." He said and started to leave.

"A celebration?" Feyre asked. "I can't handel celebrations." She said it out loud. Admitting the fear that filed her every time she needed to dress up in Spring.
"I can't handel people."

"It is a celebration, but not like the solstice, and no-one more then us will be here." Rhysand said back. Turning his back against her.

"It is Nynsar today..." Feyre realized.

"Yes..." Rhysand looked back at her. His violet eyes filed with stars. "And this night is one we celebrate because of its beauty and nothing else."

Feyre did as he told her, resting in her bed and waited for the sun to set. In the deep darkness of her soul a small string of curiosity started to move, slowly climbing up to the surface. What was it that made this night so special? What was it that they celebrated here at night? The sun was setting and she put on some different clothes, no dresses, but she liked the flowy pants and the simple shirts in that soft fabric. She liked that, it was more then the stiff dresses she had on in the Spring Court. The dresses Tamlin gave her to have on. The wardrobe here was filed with everything she would ever need. Underwear in different styles forms and colors. There was shirts, bluses, linens and dresses, pants and skirts. She had more choises then she ever had had before. She put on a sky blue set of pants and bluse. Before she walked back out to the salon and Rhysand who was standing on the balcony, his wings out. No one else was there.

"What is it that make this so special." She asked, Rhysand moved at her voice, turning to face her.

"You will see." He said and walked up to her guiding her to the balcony. "While the rest of the world celebrate spring, we celebrate the beautiful night. A swooshing sound was heard and a ball of light passed over the sky, and then another. Soon balls of light was falling all around them One after another they passed over the sky. Leaving Feyre speechless, it is so beautiful...

"Stars..."

"Starfall we call it." Rhysand said, she walked over the balcony, finding herself reaching for the falling stars. So close, so nere.

"I see..." This was beauty, in the darkness these falling lights was beauty. And somewhere in her own darkness a small falling lights appeared. This moment, she wanted to memorised it, to paint it hand hang the painting so she could see it when she woke up. But then... "I will never be abel to paint this..." She said in sorrow, knowing why...

"Why?" Rhysands hand landed on her arm, a warm touch. A comforting touch.

"I can't paint... The red is like blood, and... I did so manny awful things... I can't create anything with that blood on my hands..." She said the things she never could say to Tamlin, or Lucien, Alis. The things that haunted her. As she spoke one of the stars hit the balcony railing, leaving splackes of light dust all over her hands and clothes.

"This paint isn't red." Rhysand said, his hand moved through it. Dragingthe dust out, drawing lazy swirls with it.

"No..." Feyre started to move the dust around, continuing his simple pattern. Creating small swirls and patterns like the tattoo on her hand. "No It isn't" Tears was falling from her eyes, and she felt something. She didn't know what, but it was something other then dread and emptiness.