Athanasia
I shiver in the cold, my hood covering my ears. The snow gluing itself onto my boots as well as the edge of my dress. I grip my coat harder with each step.
It just seems to be getting colder as the days pass. I've been lucky enough to have not gone back in time these past few months. Though I still remain cautious.
I'm on my way home now. I went to visit the nearby shop to get another book. With winter upon us, the days keep getting shorter. I was too slow and now I'm walking back in the dark.
I walk as swiftly as I can, the small lantern brings in the view of the house. Oddly enough, I felt like I was being watched as I made my way to the mansion. It's been happening quite often these past months and I'm not sure what to think. If I am being watched, by who and why?
My brows go up when I see a cloaked figure at the door. Whoever it is, they seems to be hesitant about knocking on the door.
They turn their head to look at me, probably hearing the snow being crushed under my feet.
I stop a few feet away when I can see who it is.
"Feyre?" I ask wide eyed.
Acknowledging the girl who looked different that the last time I saw her. But I don't care. "Feyre!" I dash towards her, bringing her into a huge embrace. She hesitantly wraps her arms around me.
Tears run down my face as I bring warmth in the cold around us.
"You're back. Do you know how much I missed you? Never do that ever again." I pull back to get a closer look at her.
Her hair seemed shiner, like golden thread. Her face bringing in more beauty. She's gorgeous. Small tears welled up in her eyes.
"Athy?" She breathes out, a small smile on her face.
"Yes, it's me. You must be so cold. Let's get you inside, some hot tea should warm you up." I place my hand on the small of her back, leading her to the door.
"I don't think I should." She stops, looking at me.
"Nonsense. We missed you, Feyre. You have so much to catch us up on." I try to comfort her. "So let's not worry about anything else." I open the door leading her in.
"Mrs. Laurent, please prepare us some tea in the drawing room." I tell the skeptical lady.
"Athy? Mrs. Laurent?" Elain's voice echoes.
Her eyes begin to shed tears as well as she took in the sight before her.
Nesta stood near the railing of the staircase as if she saw a ghost.
*******
I sat next to Nesta, Elain on the other side of her, staring at Feyre who sat across from us.
"Where is Father?" She finally speaks.
"In Neva," Nesta said, naming one of the largest cities on the Continent. "Trading with some merchants from the other half of the world. And attending a summit about the threat above the wall. A threat I wonder if you've come back to warn us about."
Elain lifted her teacup. "Whatever the reason, Feyre, we are happy to see you. Alive. We thought you were—"
She pulled her hood back before Elain could go on.
Elain's teacup rattled in its saucer as she noticed her ears. I held my breath, stopping the tea cup from reaching my lips.
She's a faerie. Her ears sharper, hands slender.
"I was dead," Feyre says roughly. "I was dead, and then I was reborn—remade."
Elain set her cup on the table, amber liquid splashed over the side, pooling in the saucer.
Feyre held Nesta's gaze as she spoke. "I need you to listen."
We stayed silent, listening to what she had to say next. Then she began. Telling us of all her adventures and challenges that she faced the past year.
"Feyre." I let out, shocked from how much she's been through. I thought I had it hard because I couldn't understand myself. But while I was here, she was out there suffering.
She gave me a fake smile in response to her name. She continued to explain about needing the house.
Elain spoke first. "You—you want other High Fae to come ... here. And ... and the Queens of the Realm."
She nods slowly.
"Find somewhere else," Nesta says.
Feyre gives her a pleading look.
"Nes, this is important to her. Maybe—" I try to convince her. I want to help Feyre. She finally came back and we are sending her away.
"Find somewhere else," Nesta says again, straight-backed.
"I don't want them in my house. Or near Elain and Athy."
"Nesta, please," She breathes. "There is nowhere else; nowhere I can go without someone hunting me, crucifying me—"
"And what of us? When the people around here learn we're Fae sympathizers? Are we any better than the Children of the Blessed, then? Any standing, any influence we have—gone. And Elain's wedding—"
"Wedding," Feyre blurts.
"In five months," Nesta says. "She's marrying a lord's son. And his father has devoted his life to hunting down your kind when they cross the wall. So there will be no meeting here. There will be no Fae in this house."
"Do you include me in that declaration?" Feyre says quietly. Nesta's silence was answer enough.
"Nesta," Elain speaks out.
"Nesta," Elain says again, twisting her hands. "If ... if we do not help Feyre, there won't be a wedding. Even Lord Nolan's battlements and all his men, couldn't save me from ... from them." Nesta didn't so much as flinch.
Elain pushes, "We keep it secret—we send the servants away. With the spring approaching, they'll be glad to go home. And if Feyre needs to be in and out for meetings, she'll send word ahead, and we'll clear them out. Make up excuses to send them on holidays. Father won't be back until the summer, anyway. No one will know. Feyre gave and gave—for years. Let us now help her. Help ... others."
"Come on, Nes. She needs us and this could be a good thing. Feyre's back, we can at least give her this," I add, meeting Nesta's gaze.
Her chin lifted slightly. "We'll send the servants away tomorrow."
"Today," Feyre pushes. "We don't have any time to lose. Order them to leave now."
"I'll do it," Elain said, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. She didn't wait for either of us before she strode out, graceful as a doe.
Once she is gone, Feyre continues to speak, "Is he good—the lord's son she's to marry?"
"She thinks he is. She loves him like he is."
"And what do you think?"
"His father built a wall of stone around their estate so high even the trees can't reach over it. I think it looks like a prison."
"Have you said anything to her?"
"No. The son, Graysen, is kind enough. As smitten with Elain as she is with him. It's the father I don't like. He sees the money she has to offer their estate—and his crusade against the Fae. But the man is old. He'll die soon enough."
Feyre looks at me as if asking for my answer.
"Elain likes him. I can't really get in the way of that. Though they seem a bit too focused on hunting Fae to give her too much attention." I catch Nesta's gaze, it seems she agrees.
Then Nesta asks, "Your High Lord ... You went through all that"—she waves a hand at Feyre —"and it still did not end well?"
"That lord built a wall to keep the Fae out. My High Lord wanted to keep me caged in."
"Why? He let you come back here all those months ago."
"To save me—protect me. And I think ... I think what happened to him, to us, Under the Mountain broke him. The drive to protect at all costs, even my own well-being ... I think he wanted to stifle it, but he couldn't. He couldn't let go of it." Feyre looked troubled at her words.
"And now you are at a new court." Nesta states knowing the answer.
"Would you like to meet them?"
Nesta ignores her statement, getting up to help Elain clear out the staff. Leaving the two of us.
"Did all of that really happen to you?" I still doubt all she has said.
"It did." Her head bows.
"I don't care about what you are now, but I know others won't think the same. Just know that if you need help, I'm here. I just wish I could have helped you then." A little smile plasters my face.
"You always helped me, Athy. Nothing good would have came if you were there with me. I'm glad that you look well here." She meets my gaze.
"I was alone without you, Feyre. I believed that you could save your High Lord so I didn't doubt you. But when you didn't come back—" I pause, gritting my teeth. "Don't scare us like that again. When I needed you, you weren't there."
I needed her when I discovered my light. I didn't know what to do. Between her missing and having weird things happen to me. It felt like I was the one that was lost.
"I'm sorry." The sorrow was visible in her voice.
I sigh, getting up. "I'm going to go help clear out the house. After this is over tell me everything else, things that you didn't tell your sisters and I'll tell what has happened to me. But don't leave because we aren't done."
"Okay, I will." She gives me a small smile before I leave her in the drawing room.
*******
I walk down the staircase, a baby pink dress adorns my body. My hair was let down, a gold pin kept back my front strands. My white hair, still covered by the thick soft curls that end at the middle of my back.
I spot Elain and Nesta standing near the window in the dining room. We wait there in silence for Feyre and her friends to appear.
I wonder what they look like. Will they be menacing like the ones that attacked me or will they be more gentle like Azriel? Feyre seems to trust them a lot so they must be good people.
Then they appear. Feyre stands in front of three very large males. Two with wings. Illyrians.
I stiffen at the sight of them.
Feyre crosses the room, removing her cloak. Fae clothing and jewelry beautifully layered on her body.
I then glance at the males behind her. All three wore fine black clothing. My eyes go wide as I realize who two of them were. Azriel and Rhys. They still looked the same as they did five hundred years ago.
Did they know I would be here? How do they know Feyre? Many questions rushed through my mind as I make eye contact with Azriel. His hazel eyes bore into my deep blue ones, he knew who I was.
I feel Elain and Nesta stiffen gazing at the winged males.
Nesta takes a step in front of Elain and I, and ducked her fisted hand behind her simple, elegant amethyst gown.
Feyre approaches Nesta, staying a few feet away before introducing us.
"My sisters, Nesta and Elain Archeron. And Athy." She glances at me.
I never took the Archeron last name. Though they raised me, I wanted to be known just as Athy. I felt like it would be troublesome if I got involved in business like that. I thought of the Archeron sisters as my sisters, but not to the extent that I take their name.
I could feel the males' gazes on me, like I shouldn't be here. I avoided it, trying to not feel their intimidating presence.
"Cassian," Feyre continues introducing her guests. He stood on her behind her on the left.
She shifts right. "Azriel." If my back wasn't already straight it is now.
I told him everything about myself. He knows what I'm capable of. Maybe he doesn't remember it was five hundred years ago.
For some reason I know that's not true, the look on his face proves it. The shadow bracelet around my wrist begins to sting as it has been doing these past months.
"And Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court," she finishes. High Lord? Did his father pass?
He bows down to us. "Thank you for your hospitality— and generosity," he said with a warm smile.
I try my best to smile, it doesn't falter. Do not show any fear. As much as I enjoyed being friends with them in the past, this is the Mortal Realm. I have a family I need to take care of. If Fae such as them came here, that means something is wrong.
"The cook left dinner on the table. We should eat before it goes cold." Nesta says, striding off—right to the head of the polished cherry table.
Elain rasped, "Nice to meet you," before hustling after her, the silk skirts of her cobalt dress whispering over the parquet floor.
"Thank you for coming." I bow my head slightly, before standing next to Elain.
There is no point in being rude, even to a Fae. They can easily kill you if they wanted.
Nesta was waiting at the head of the table, a queen ready to hold court. Elain trembled in the upholstered, carved wood chair to her left.
Cass claims the spot beside me. I didn't see him when I went back, so seeing him now feels strange. Rhys sat in front of me with Feyre to his left and Azriel to his right.
Azriel's eyes never left me. He definitely knows who I am and he's curious about my life. What am I doing with Feyre's family, is his question.
I slowly eat the food, careful not to choke. With their presence, I just might. I could feel Elain's quivering body to my right.
"Is there something wrong with our food?" Nesta says flatly, looking at Feyre.
Oh no.
"No." I could tell she is straining herself. My face becomes slightly worried as she tries to swallow it down.
I knew what she was going through. When I came back the first time, I had to get used to eating mortal food. It was bland compared to the food I ate for two weeks.
"So you can't eat normal food anymore—or are you too good for it?"
Rhys's fork clanked on his plate. Elain made a small, distressed noise. I place my hand on her thigh, trying to quiet her.
"Nes." I breathe out, telling her not to go there.
"I can eat, drink, fuck, and fight just as well as I did before. Better, even."
Cass choked on his water. My eyes shoot to Feyre. If it wasn't so intense I would have probably laughed.
Nesta let out a low laugh.
Rhys then speaks, "If you ever come to Prythian, you will discover why your food tastes so different." He gazes a me for a second before looking back at Nesta.
Even Rhys knows.
Nesta looked down her nose at him. "I have little interest in ever setting foot in your land, so I'll have to take your word on it."
"Nesta, please," Elain murmurs.
Cass was sizing up Nesta, he seemed to be intrigued by her.
Nesta shifted her attention to him.
She snarled softly, "What are you looking at?"
Cass' brows rose—little amusement to be found now.
"Someone who let her youngest sister risk her life every day in the woods while she did nothing. Someone who let a fourteen-year-old child go out into that forest, so close to the wall. Your sister died—died to save my people. She is willing to do so again to protect you from war. So don't expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she did not get to make —and insult my people in the process."
"You should be careful." I look at Cass who locks eyes with me. "I'm not disagreeing with you about what you said about Feyre risking her life. But you don't know the other risks we had to take." I don't know where my sudden confidence came from.
I whip my head back to my plate ignoring his piercing eyes. Even if I didn't see him the last time, he also remembers the times at the camps.
Nesta also ignores him.
He goes to open his mouth but Elain cuts him off.
"It ... it is very hard, you understand, to ... accept it. We are raised this way. We hear stories of your kind crossing the wall to hurt us. Our own neighbor, Clare Beddor, was taken, her family murdered ... It's all very disorienting."
"I can imagine," Azriel says, his voice deeper than before, if that was even possible. He's changed. I keep my eyes lowered, scared to make eye contact. I want to run away from here.
Elain sat a little higher as she talks to Cassian, "And as for Feyre's hunting during those years, it was not Nesta's neglect alone that is to blame. We were scared, and had received no training, and everything had been taken, and we failed her. Both of us. Athy was the only one managed to help her." Nesta said nothing, her back rigid.
Feyre grips Nesta's arm, drawing her attention to her. "Can we just ... start over?"
But Nesta merely hissed, "Fine." And went back to eating.
Elain says to Azriel, "Can you truly fly?" I'm surprised she's this confident.
He set down his fork, blinking.
He says, "Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We're born hearing the song of the wind."
I look up, locking eyes with him. Like I'm flooded with all the memories from before.
"That's very beautiful," she said. "Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?"
"It is sometimes," Azriel said.
Cass nods in agreement. "If you are caught in a storm, if the current drops away. But we are trained so thoroughly that the fear is gone before we're out of swaddling."
I know. I know all about how you are trained. Azriel continues to look at me, as if acknowledging that I know that it's him.
"You look like High Fae," Nesta cut in, her voice like a honed blade. "But you are not?"
"Only the High Fae who look like them," Cass drawled, waving a hand to Feyre and Rhys, "are High Fae. Everyone else, any other differences, mark you as what they like to call 'lesser' faeries."
Rhys at last says, "It's become a term used for ease, but masks a long, bloody history of injustices. Many lesser faeries resent the term—and wish for us all to be called one thing."
"Rightly so," Cass said, drinking from his water.
Nesta surveys Feyre, like she has been doing this entire dinner. "But you were not High Fae—not to begin. So what do they call you?"
Rhys says, "Feyre is whoever she chooses to be."
She says after examining our guests once more, "Write your letter to the queens tonight. Tomorrow, my sisters and I will go to the village to dispatch it. If the queens do come here," she adds, casting a frozen glare at Cassian, "I'd suggest bracing yourselves for prejudices far deeper than ours. And contemplating how you plan to get us all out of this mess should things go sour."
"We'll take that into account," Rhys says smoothly.
Nesta went on, utterly unimpressed, "I assume you'll want to stay the night."
Feyre says, "If it's not too much trouble, then yes. We'll leave after breakfast tomorrow."
"I'll prepare them." I speak up, nervousness subsiding. "I'm guessing you each want your own room?" I say, raising my gaze at Feyre.
"We'll need two," Rhys says quietly, bringing my attention to him. "Next to each other, with two beds each. Magic is different across the wall. So our shields, our senses, might not work right. I'm taking no chances. Especially in a house with a woman betrothed to a man who gave her an iron engagement ring."
Elain flushed a bit. "The—the bedrooms that have two beds aren't next to each other," she murmurs.
Feyre sighs. "We'll move things around. It's fine. This one," she adds with a glare in Rhysand's direction, "is only cranky because he's old and it's past his bedtime."
The atmosphere lightens with the joke. I let out a short huff which did not go unnoticed by Azriel.
Nesta just rose to her feet, a slim pillar of steel, and said to no one in particular, "If we're done eating, then this meal is over."