Isabella
Feyre had been gone for months. Father and Elain remain oblivious to the dark truth behind her visit. I thought it was a blessing at first, that I kept my memories where my family had forgotten. Then I started questioning everything. If what I saw was real, if it was a nightmare born of a reader's imagination. If it weren't for Nesta stepping in when I got particularly hysterical one day then I think I might have truly driven myself insane.
My sister is perched on the bench beside me, eyes closed as she takes in the morning sun. Elain's garden has truly come into bloom. She has me over at least once a week to see it, often suggesting that I tend to my own garden back home.
Like I would have the time. I smile sadly at the thought, twisting the wedding band on my finger. My sisters have all but forgotten that while they escape the constraints of our former life I have most certainly been left behind.
Married in a love match, Elain had sung. Prancing about the cottage when our father had announced my engagement. Neither had any care for my own thoughts on the matter. Nesta, my ever protective twin, had raged and screamed and did everything in her power to stop the marriage but the deal had been made.
They needed one less mouth to feed and Tomas Mandray had promised father that he would look after me. It was only when Nesta saw no possible way out of it that she had finally confessed what had happened between the two years prior.
"How have you been, sister?" Nesta murmurs, her voice so soft and delicate as she peers at me.
"Well. Tomas has begun learning to carve wood, so that he can sell chairs and tables as well." The irony of being handed from father to this man was certainly not lost on my sister.
"How much does he expect that to bring in?"
"I told him of father's attempts but he seemed determined." It wasn't worth the argument and if it kept him busy and out the house then I was all for it. "Besides, it keeps him out of the kitchen. Gives me more time with my practice."
Nesta smiled at that. Healing has been a passion of mine. An obsession almost during our darker youth. It had been a way to care for Father and later Feyre when she would come home with cuts and scrapes. A useful coping mechanism. Nesta had sarcastically praised me one evening but had admitted she was grateful and proud of me in private.
"You could leave him."
"You know I can't."
The conversation drops after that. Both of us just content to be in the other's presence after the hectic catch up at lunch. With father away it has been an easy excuse to tell Tomas that I needed to check up on my sisters. He was astounded at Father leaving Nesta in charge of the home during his absence. And though he had snidely suggested I would be of little use to them he still allowed me to visit more often to 'care for them' where my twin's hedonistic ways failed.
"Mama?" I pause, smiling down at the little curly haired hellion peering up at me.
"Oliver?" I answer in the same curious tone only to have a clenched hand thrust before my face. I reel back, expecting to be hit by an overexcited child only to find three wilting daising in my son's hand.
"For you." He giggles, face lighting up when I make a dramatic wow and smile, sliding of the bench to kneel down at his height. Nesta coos her own praise, playfulling asking where her own bouquet had disappeared to. The look of horror and upset on his face was enough to have me laughing but Nes had frozen, fearful that she had upset the boy.
"I'll make you a bouquet." His voice was determined, his little pout forcing me to hide my laughter behind a hand. "With lots of the pretty lavenders you like."
"Its-" But he was already racing off, stumbling over his own feet on the grass. "Its lavender tea that I like."
I giggle as my sister's sags slightly, turning to me with a tired expression.
"Elain's going to kill him for taking her flowers." I sober up at the thought. She might not kill him but she'll certainly have no problem reprimanding him. I really don't want to deal with tears tonight. Not when we'll be sleeping over and he always struggles to settle away from home.
"I should stop him shouldn't I." I murmur, suddenly questioning if letting Oliver run rampant in my sister's precious garden was the best idea. Nesta waves me off. "Let him have his fun. He'll only be this little once."
"Don't remind me." I shudder and my fear must show on my face because it seems to be Nesta's turn to laugh at me. "Don't laugh, Nesta. I'm going to be heartbroken when he's ready to leave the nest."
"He's four years old, Iz." Nesta's voice is exasperated as she shakes her head at me. "I think you have a long way to go before you need to worry about him leaving the nest."
We pause watching him jump down from the various benches and low walls in the garden, clearly pretending to fly if his flailing arms are any indication.
"On second thought." Nesta begins and I bump my shoulder against hers as we both giggle at the little boy's antics.
"I wish Feyre were here to see him." I whisper and Nesta stiffens beside me. "He would have adored her."
"Feyre's not really the maternal type." Nesta counters and I roll my eyes.
"She was when she was little, then life got in the way and it was about survival." I pick at a hole in my simple gown. The delicate stitching embellishments on my wrist serve to hide the wear and tear at the seams. Life really did get in the way for both of us.
"Isabella!" Elain's voice echoes through the garden and we both wince at the enraged tone.
"I think he found the lavender." Nesta comments with raised brows and I shoot her a glare. I guess there will be tears tonight.
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"One more story, pleeeasssseeeeeeeee." The pouty lip thing and adorable eyes might work on Elain and Nesta but I have suffered four years worth of this and I want my sleep.
"Ollie." I sigh and he makes those pleading eyes again.
"I'll go to sleep right after, promise." he quickly nods his head as if physically agreeing to the statement will make it more truthful. I glance out the window, a strange feeling of being watched settling over me. It must be one of those nights. When the shadows become longer and grow a life of their own. One of those days where I just want to hold him tight and keep him safe. I sigh and Ollie squeals, taking that as a win. Laughter bubbles in my own chest as he snuggles deeper into the blankets and for a moment the room seems to light up.
"Anything in particular?" I ask, rising from my perch on his bed to look through the small collection of books Nesta had been building for him.
"Something with magic and adventure." He pleads and I pause. Human children's books rarely had magic in any of them, it was considered too close to Fae culture. Not that Oliver cared. He just wanted something with dragons and magic and adventure and knights and castles and- well whatever else a four year old with an affinity for trouble wants. I flick through the books pausing suddenly when the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
Pulling a book from the shelf I calmly rise to my feet but when I pivot in place there's nothing there.
"Mama?"
"Just coming." I smile, settling on the large bed next to him. Nesta had offered to bring in a small cot for him but Tomas would never let him sleep with us. Claiming that he needed to learn how to be a man. So i've learned to cherish the quiet moments between us.
Oliver giggles when I follow out standard routine of tucking him in 'snug-as-bug', making sure that the covers are all wrapped in around him before opening up the book that turns out to be a large tomme filled with a collection of stories.
"Once upon-"
"You'll do the voices?"
"Yes I'll do the voices."
"And the animal sounds?"
"And the animal sounds." Oliver opens his mouth to no doubt make another request and I find myself narrowing my eyes at him. His mouth shuts with an audible thunk I smirk in satisfaction. Still got it.
"Once upon a time..."
A/N: This is my second ACOTAR fic, this one is fluid and I have no concrete plans so I would love to include people's ideas