"Her wings are made of starlight."
In which a mortal girl and an immortal Illyrian
are gifted neighboring cells Under The Mountain
and change each other's lives forever.
𝑨𝑪𝑶𝑻𝑨𝑹 -
...
𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. chapter twelve; The High Lord's Office " I could not love myself if I tried, I can hardly expect that from him. "
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BREAKFAST WAS BUSY the morning before Nixie was to leave for Spring Court. Feyre's neatly written offer had included a night in her home, prior to the wedding, so Nixie had been preparing for two days and one night in the court she hated most when her brother requested her presence.
"You're aware that you are a guest, Nixie," Rhys spoke carefully, "Please act like one."
Nixie all but laughed as she sipped her beverage.
"Don't worry, Rhys, I won't start any new feuds while in attendance," Nixie sighed, setting the crystal glass on the dining table, "Though Lucien Vanserra is entirely too fun to leave alone completely."
Azriel shifted in silent discomfort, keeping his eyes on Rhys who seemed more concerned than anything.
"I'm only joking, Rhys," Nixie let out a soft laugh, "You're worried."
"I am."
"If I sense anything at all, I'll leave in a moment," She assured him, "No questions or second-guessing."
Nixie furrowed her brows at a pang in her mind. She wasn't quite sure where it came from or what it was, but when she peered at Azriel out of the corner of her eye, Nixie's heart jolted.
Jealousy. Worry. Fear.
These emotions seemed as if they were being force-fed to her, like their unspoken bond was a line, communicating how Azriel felt without a single word being exchanged.
"Can I speak to you for a moment, Rhys?"
Mor furrowed her brows at Nixie's abrupt request, eyeing the woman who suddenly seemed cloaked in discomfort.
"Of course," He agreed, "What is it?"
Her eyes nervously skirted between Cassian and a clearly uneasy Azriel.
"Can I speak to you in private?"
Even though Azriel knew, deep down, that Rhysand had a mate, he knew that Nixie and Rhysand had grown up alongside each other as siblings, that their love and bond was one of family-- he couldn't help the bubble of jealousy that rose from the sight of Rhys quickly exiting the room, his hand resting between Nixie's bandaged wings as he ushered her away from them.
"Are you okay?" Rhys questioned with a furrowed brow as he gently clicked the door to his study closed, "You seem troubled."
"Wonderful observation, brother," Nixie mumbled, rubbing the worry out of her forehead as she took a seat in a rather large armchair, "I just. . . have a question for you."
Rhys eagerly sat across from the woman.
"Do you ever plan on telling Feyre? That you're her mate?"
Rhys's posture slouched as he let out a long breath. His composure switched from concern to acceptance as he leaned back.
"All I want for Feyre, as her friend, or her mate, or anything else, is for her to be happy," Rhys explained with a soft shrug, "Whichever way she wishes."
"Do you think she's happy with Tamlin?"
"I think she deserves a choice."
"How can she make that choice if she doesn't have all the information?"
"This information wouldn't help her," Rhys spoke softly, "If she decides she is not happy, with Tamlin, in Spring Court. . . then perhaps. But, right now, there are too many possibilities to plan on any single one."
Nixie nodded, a soft frown etched on her features.
"Can I ask why you're curious?" Rhys asked. "You don't intend to. . . do anything while in attendance, do you?"
"It is yours alone to tell her, Rhys, I would never endanger that for either of you," Nixie spoke quietly. "I'm just. . .worried for Feyre, I consider her a friend."
"And. . ?"
Nixie cursed Mother above. Sometimes, she hated how well Rhys knew her. She loathed that he could pick apart any tell-tale sign of deceit or frustration.
"You have to swear you won't tell a single soul," Nixie mumbled, "No one, not even Mor."
"Your secrets are always safe with me, Nixie."
She let out a long breath, sitting forward slightly.
"I don't know if I should tell him," Nixie whispered, "It snapped for me the moment I saw him again. But I cannot. . . I'm not sure I would survive if he rejected it while I'm still. . . healing."
"He wouldn't—"
"Look at me, Rhysand."
And he did.
Nixie, his protector, his sister by bond, not by blood, the one he grew up alongside, the one he learned to fly with.
She was still but a shell of her former self. Even if Azriel's care, his hand-cooked meals, and careful mending, with Cassian's training that took up more time than she had, with Amren's attempts at re-stoking the friendly feuds between them, with Mor's kind words and watchful eye, Nixie had not yet returned to herself.
She was still too thin for her fire, previously shining eyes sat dull, her hair hung limply against plain ears, bare of any jewelry, wings taped together held up only by bandaging.
Nixie was not Nixie, inside or out.
"I could not love myself if I tried," Her voice came out wavering, "I can hardly expect that from him."
Rhys stood from his desk, pulling Nixie into a tight hug before she could argue another word.
She sunk into it, these familiar routines, the comfort that came from her brother, from Rhys.
"Tell him when you're ready, Nixie," He whispered, "But do not carry this alone forever."
Nixie sniffled, not yet ready to retreat from the warmth he gave so willingly.
"I'm glad it's him."
Rhys sighed a smile at her words, allowing her to linger in the embrace for a long moment before suggesting she finish her preparations to leave.
Because in truth, Rhys was glad it was Azriel, too.
He remembered the conversations, the tears, every fit Nixie threw when she was too young to understand about not having a mate, every time she told him what kind of person she wished for-- and he had been at her side all the time.
He couldn't have hoped for anyone better for his sister.
( AUTHOR'S NOTE. ) nixie and rhys's bond is one of my favs to write they're just so sweet
