A Court of Tears and Starlight

Final gifts

I stood before the door to Feyre's art room and my hands trembled as I reached for the knob. I frowned and swallowed down the sorrow that was coursing through my body. I remembered when I had prepared this room. It was the day after I returned from under the mountain. The day after I realised what Feyre meant to me. I can still see her wide loving eyes looking through my smug facade and really seeing me. Instead of disgust her eyes held a haunted recognition and acceptance of what I am. She knew the ill deeds and malice and the bloody deeds and yet those same eyes held love. For the first time I felt like I was home. Like there was a place in the world that I was myself and completely belonged without any games or deception. At that moment I had also felt the bond awaken in me and my heart was flooded with the most intense feeling I had ever experienced. It went beyond lust and even hate. The passion I felt for her was all consuming. It had caused me to stumble forth and flee.

When I returned to the Night Court I had wanted to transform it from a dark and treacherous place to one of mystery and splendour. A place fit for such a lovely wild creature. A place fit for my mate. I had the advantage of having seen deeply into her mind and I knew the way she devoured colour, her eyes flicking to and fro trying to absorb and commit them to memory, until she could try and recreate them at a later more private time. Knowing this I had designed this room for her. A large yet intimate art gallery, hung with blank canvases, paint easels, brushes and any colour you could dream of. I had supplies secretly brought in from all across Prythian and even some from places far beyond its borders. I had been so excited to show it to her. Yet the time was never right. Initially I was too guarded and scared to initiate something so vulnerable and intimate and so I left the room unmentioned. Not long after I realised that something had broken within her and that she no longer felt like painting. She treated it as a lost privelidge, as though she had degraded her soul to a point that she no longer deserved to see or create beauty. I knew better. I had longed to see a brush back in her hand, firm strokes of colour splashing forth from the beautiful soul within.

But the room had remained untouched and unused.

Or so I thought.

In Aeden's memories I had seen this room filled with vibrant paintings.

My hand gently turned the door knob and I took one deep breath before plunging inside.

As I stepped into the room I was reminded of how beautifully designed the gallery had been. The moonlight from the high set windows set everything alight with a soft glow. Additional globes of light hung high enough above each canvas to create visibility without marring the effects of the brush strokes.

The room was full.

I choked out a sob as I was overwhelmingly and completely surrounded by Feyre.

Even from the distance of the door way I could seen that not a single painting was spared from a familiar flash of violet. Some of them were almost entirely violet, as though she were drowning in my eyes.

Warm tears splashed down my cheeks as I took a tentative step forward towards the first painting. I was shocked to see that it was Calanmai in Spring. A bright smug of red marked the canvas and sent a red hue out across three shadowy villains. They cowered before a tall striking figure who stood with his arm casually slung over the shoulder of a cowering human maiden. I smiled at this memory and then shook my head as I realised that despite my mockery she had still seen me as a hero that night. She had known the danger that lurked beneath the surface and yet I knew this memory was not tampered with. In her eyes I had been a god-like rescuer that night.

I moved onto the next one to find myself looking down at a most intimate scene. The bars of the dungeon caused stripes of shadow across two figures huddled intimately close on the floor. One was small and fragile while the other leant over possessively and pressed their faces so close that they may have shared a breath. I shuddered realising this was the first confusing moment when she felt my tongue on her cheek and began to feel something forbidden for me.