I'm not okay (Mor x oc)

Part 1

Author's note: This was requested by kayla41904 !

If you have read my story 'Competition' (you should  if you haven't *wink wink*) this is set in the same time, but with Mor as the main character. There's not a lot on Mor's power other than being the Truth, so I wrote the story with what I interpret that as.

I think there is a lot of negative stuff going around Tiktok around Mor, mainly how she supposedly led Azriel on for five hundred years. In my opinion, I don't think she ever gave Azriel and indication that she liked him and was struggling with her own sexual orientation. I wanted to write a few parts about Mor meeting Vera (her love interest in my story) and maybe delve into a bit more of her life and point of view. There will probably only be a few parts, but I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading xxx

Mor tapped her foot on the ground as she waited in line at the shop at the Day Court. She was discussing ancient books with Helion, borrrrinnngggg,  before he had to attend another meeting. He had assured her he would only be an hour at most, but it had been two and no sign of the High Lord. She briefly wondered whether he was annoyed at her, she had rejected his advances last night, it felt wrong. Being in the Day Court was both a nightmare and a dream. There was a smell in the air and it smelled so good, vanilla and cookies, but she couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Now she was hangry (angry and hungry) and that was not a good sign. 

A couple of friends got their order and she heard their conversation on the way out, she switched on her magic for the fun of it.

"I was at Rita's last night," Her magic buzzed.

Lie.

"And I saw Amir,"

Lie.

"And he was kissing Emerla." 

Another lie.

"But I was at Rita's last night and I didn't see them." She waited for the feeling but none came, the woman was telling the truth. 

"Can I help you?" She turned to the shop keeper and smiled.

"Yes, please could I have a cinnamon bun?" She had spotted the pastries through the shop window and had practically drooled at the sight of them. Since Helion was taking so bloody long, she figured she would treat herself. Besidesss she would work it off in the next training session. She pulled out her purse and internally winced as the shop keeper's eyes shot to her purse greedily. 

"That's fifteen silver marks." 

Lie. 

"You sold someone one for five silver marks two minutes ago." He shook his head and ran his fingers through his beard.

"You must have misheard. I've been making cinnamon buns since I opened this shop, and they've always been fifteen silver marks." 

Lie.

She clenched her teeth, unable to work out what part of the sentence was the lie. She was out of practice.

"How long have you been making cinnamon buns?"

"Since the start of this shop." No buzz. 

"And you opened this shop."

"Of course I did." 

Lie. 

"Who opened the shop?"

"Me! I just told you." He was growing flustered and Mor blinked. Sometimes she got too into the detective side. 

"The cinnamon buns are fifteen silver marks?"

"Yes! Now pay or get out, you're holding up the line." 

Lie. 

He held out his hand. She dropped five silver marks in it. He opened his mouth but her eyes flared with power.

"Next time you try to con someone into paying more, make sure it isn't someone who can tell you're lying." It was funny to watch the shop keeper's face leech of colour. 

"The Morrigan." He whispered.

"That being said, if you try to con someone out of money again, I'll know and I'll find you." Well that was a lie, but he didn't need to know that. She plucked the bun out of his hands and strolled out the shop, aware of his gaping expression. She never understood why they always put 'the' before her name, it wasn't like she was a dagger or something. It sounded stupid. You know it was probably Caspian who had started it, thinking it would be funny. She would hit him for it in their next training session, which was hopefully soon. She had to take advantage of the fact that Nesta and Elain were touring the human lands to spend time with Cassian. While she loved Feyre, her sister on the other hand was another story. 

As soon as she was around Cassian noticed no one else, even though Nesta wouldn't even look at him if she could help it. If she did, it was for some rude or snide comment. Mor knew, they all did, that Nesta was going through trauma (hell they had all had their fair share of it over the years) but it still hurt to see Cassian pining over someone who hated him. It was hard to be so lenient but the war with Hybern had been over one hundred years ago, Nesta wasn't acting any nicer. Mor had been around for a long time and had received many insults, Nesta's actually stung though, as if every one was carefully thought out to cause the most harm. Mor knew she shouldn't think it but she missed when they weren't there. When she could hang out with her old friends, maybe have a few drinks at Rita's. 

Familiar insecurities clenched her heart. Rhys and Feyre were always attached at the hip, Cassian had Nesta, Azriel was always with Elain, Amren had Varian, Mor had no one. She sometimes felt like a burden on them, useless. No one would care if she disappeared. Call her clingy, but sometimes she just wanted someone to hug her when she woke up from a nightmare about the Hewn city. Someone to hold her hair back when she threw up, terrified and alone in the middle of the night. Someone for her to clasp onto when she could feel the nails in her stomach again. Someone who would hug her until she went back to sleep. Someone to love her.

She hadn't told anyone about her nightmares, not wanting to trouble them. It was such a long time ago they would think she was being dramatic. It was becoming harder not to flinch when Nesta hinted that she was a whore for wearing a dress with a slit, though. While her virginity was something to be treasured, there were other things the males there had done, stuff she hadn't told anyone about (though she thought Rhys suspected). As long as her virginity was still intact, her father didn't give two shits what was done with her. Bile rose in her throat as the memory of their hands, the humiliation, the utter helplessness filled her. Mor took a deep breath and exhaled. Her time in the Court of Nightmares had taught her never to show her emotions - it wasn't half as fun to them if she didn't react like they wanted - so to the court she looked happy, bubbly, as always. Plain Mor. 

She inhaled the smell of her warm bun but her nostrils filled instead with that delicious scent she had been smelling all day. It was most annoying, she couldn't tell where it was coming from. It acted like a soothing draught, however, and Mor felt her anger ease. 

Maybe there was a candle shop somewhere with a candle that smelt of it. Deciding that Helion probably wasn't finished his meeting, she strolled down the high street, looking for a shop selling candles and munching on her cinnamon bun.