𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 | morrigan

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨

Marina felt used. And dirty. And so empty. She looked down at the coppers in her hand, barely enough to buy whatever her sisters needed. The men that paid her had more money than her family, but they didn't deem it necessary to pay an ordinary whore the wage she deserved. Even if the whore had a starving family at home.

Arriving at the cottage, Marina went straight to the room her sisters slept in. Nesta, Elain and Feyre slept in the big, wodden bed. The bed they were all born in, and the bed their mother died in. The bed could only fit three people. Maybe, if they all huddeled together, Marina could fit in, too; but she didn't want to make her sisters uncomfortable. They deserved to be without a care in the world, even if it was just in their sleep.

Curling up on the floor in front of the large bed, Marina tried to fall asleep. The floor was uncomfortable and it was so incredibly cold. In nights like these, Marina cursed her father for making that stupid investment that cost them their comfortable life. She had been seventeen at the time.

Marina remembered clutching a crying Feyre in her arms, the nine year old not being able to fully understand the situation. The loss of their mother a year prior had hit the family hard and Marina knew that Nesta still blamed their father for her death. The oldest, though, held a different grudge against their father.

She woke up to her head aching and her whole body being sore. Grunting, Marina stood up from the floor and took a step forward. Her back ached and the room around her was spinning. The oldest Archeron gripped the edge of the bed so hard her knuckles turned white. Feyre, having heard her sister from the other room, came running into the bedroom.

Upon seeing the state her sister was in, she gripped her elbow gently and pulled her toward the bed. "I'm fine", Marina grumbled, but Feyre just smiled gently at her. "Of course you are", Feyre knew that Marina wouldn't be able to take another step without falling over. She had seen her sister like this too many times over the years.

"Just rest. And when we're back from the market, we'll see how you are", Feyre placed a wet cloth over her sisters forhead after feeling her burning up. It honestly wasn't suprising that Marina was sick, with her dress only covering the bare minimum and the freezing temperatures outside and in here.

Before Marina could protest, sleep washed over her and the last thing she felt before being out like a light was Feyre gently pushing a strand of hair out of her face.  

Marina dreamed of a better life. One where her sisters were happy and didn't have to worry about getting through the next day. Where her father could go back to making business. And one where she could be with whoever she wanted. She wanted her sisters to live without a care in the world, spending money on the things they desired. They deserved that.

~☾︎~

The oldest Archeron got out of bed late in the evening, her family having already eaten dinner. She was feeling better, still weak and unsteady on her feet, but she was certain that she could at least eat some pieces of meat before going back to sleep.

Her sisters and father were all gathered around the fire. Nesta and Elain were whispering and laughing together and Feyre looked up when Marina entered the room. Her youngest sister moved toward her, supposedly to give her a piece of meat to eat.

But before Feyre could take another step, there was a roar that half deafened her. Nesta and Elain screamed as snow burst into the room and an enourmos, growling shape appeared in the doorway. The next few moments were a blur of the snarling beast with golden fur, the shrieking of her sisters, the blistering cold cascading into the room, and their father's terror-stricken face.