Any Day Darling: A Feysand Story

Part 15: Painted Sleeping bags

By sunset, the crowds had died down, having filtered off to different stations and safe homes. So many fae had answered the call for help; fae were sleeping on floors of restaurants, clubs, bookstores, even dance studios. But housing wasn't even the beginning of our worries. Finding food, clothing, emergency tonics was hard, but keeping word from getting to Keir was even harder. 

"He will be so angry, like blow up the whole mountain, angry" Mor told Rhys as they moved from station to station that morning.
"So, if he gets too out of hand, we'll just send Nesta to go bite his head off."
We had Illyrians stationed every 5 miles from the edge of the city all the way to the Court of Nightmares, but even that couldn't stop word of mouth. By the end of the day, we had already gotten letters from Eris, Thesian, and Lucian telling us how messed up things were in the spring court, and in Eris's case, how insane we are. Helion and Tarquin opened their borders for refugees halfway through the morning, but only a handful of fae left to join the Day and Summer courts. Some had already been placed in homes or hostels and didn't want to take their chances, and some were too scared of other courts and their leaders; moreover, they were scared of outsiders. Most of them were utterly terrified of Rhys. All of the fear-mongering Tamlin practiced really worked on his citizens. That meant that I was on my feet the entire day, trying to fight nausea. But I had a duty to fulfill and a job to do.

"Darling, you need to get some rest." Rhys told me as the sun sunk down behind the river, "this can't be good for the baby."
"I know, but all of these fae are stranded, and it's kinda my fault, so I have to fix this Rhys."
"Feyre," he said, pulling me away from the busyness of the square, " None of this is your fault. That bastard did this all to himself, and before you say it's your fault for bringing in all the refugees, that's bullshit." He kissed my nose.
"I know, I know, it's just..." he pulled my waist towards him more, until I was pressed by his embrace, " All of them are just so scared. They've been betrayed and hurt by the one person they thought they were safe with, and now they are in a cold, scary place that they were taught was bad. I know how that feels and I just...I owe them this."
"I know love, but you don't owe them your health." He purred
"Okay, fine, fine," I said looking up at him, "I will get some rest, there's just one more thing I have to do."

Earlier that day, I had opened the studio to families with small children. I had to make sure they were together, and there were so few already. By the time I finally got to check on them, it was well past sunset, for there were so many loose ends I had to tie up before we could leave the square. I gave the city guard stationed outside a little nod, as I turned the handle.
Only a few candles were lit in the large room. The adults and older children had huddled away from the mass of sleeping bags, talking in hushed voices; Little children were snoozing away in their bags already. Rhys walked passed me as I lingered In the door, and went to address the crowded corner. I was on my way to join him, when I noticed, a little girl awake. If she was human, she would have been no older than five or six. She sat right in front of her sleeping bag and stared at it intently and seemed to have blood on her hands.  It took me a moment to realize that it wasn't blood, but paint, and it was smeared across the bag.
I approached her slowly and gave her a gentle tap on the shoulder. She jumped at the contact, and bowed upon turning around and seeing my face.
"Oh, don't bother with bows." I told her with a smile, "we are no different you and I." She nodded. "What is your name?"
"Geniva." She said quietly.
"Hi, Geniva, I'm Feyre."
She giggled, "I know."
"I see you've found the paints," I said gesturing to her hands.
"I'm sorry," she choked, her face crumbling, " I know I shouldn't have but I-"
"Relax, it's okay. I'm glad you found them."
"Really?"
"Really. Art is sometimes just what we need to process what's going on. Can I see what you painted?" She smiled and nodded as she leaned away from her bag. On it, was what looked something like a brown pumpkin or large acorn with a door and windows. There was little fae playing outside with what was supposed to be a ball.
"It's my house," Geniva told me, " I painted it because I miss it." I gave her a little pat on the back.
"Why don't we find you a real canvas?"
"Really?" She asked, smiling wide.
"Yup!" I said. I stood up and reached out my hand for her to take. Together we walked through the rows of children, past the adults, and back toward the supply shelf. Her eyes lit up when she saw all the paints.
I pulled out a canvas for her and placed it on an easel. She pointed out the colors and brushes she wanted before she badly began to paint. It wasn't until I turned around that I realized the group had turned our direction. Two fae, likely her parents, started right at the little girl with tears in their eyes. I began to walk toward them, but Geniva stood up and hugged my legs.
"Thank you, lady Feyre." I bent down so I could hug her back.
"Your welcome sweetheart, I'm very happy to have met you. " I gave her a kiss on the head before she scampered back to the paints.
Rhys took my hand when I reached the group.
"Hello everyone."
The group just stared for a moment before they went around and told me their names. I would be lying if I said I remembered them all.
"You really didn't have to do that, Lady Feyre." The girl's mother told me.
"This is a studio made for working and painting and maybe even healing. Of course, I had to."
Before long, I was feeling light on my feet again. Rhys noticed and told the group-"I hate to bid you goodnight, but we do have a few more stops to make before we can retire ourselves." They nodded their heads and told us goodbye before Rhys and I walked a few feet away and winnowed home, to a well deserved night of sleep.