Labyrinth of Snow and Ice

Chapter 1

Feyre Archeron had been in the dark for three days. She was counting the hours until her sister said that she would get her. Whenever Feyre had gotten scared, she just remembered the hug that her sister had given her. It was a rare display of affection, one that she never got from anyone else. Feyre wrinkled up her nose at the tickling feeling of dust that had been rising up in her room continuously.

The electricity had been turned off, by whom, she didn't know. The past seventy-two hours had provided nothing but stabbing hunger and cold, both feelings that Feyre was not familiar with. Her and her sisters, Elain and Nesta, had been born into wealth and never knew what it was like to freeze or starve.

Remembering what had caused this blight made  her head hurt once again. She could still feel her mother's hand grip her own, whispering a promise that Feyre had agreed to keep; to take care of the family. It was the most that her mother had ever paid attention to her for most of the nine years that Feyre had been alive, the result of being the youngest in her family.

Although Nesta had received the most attention from both of their parents, Elain hadn't been neglected as Feyre had. She didn't know if it was because of how pretty they were, or talented, but it could be the fact that Feyre had never been useful in any way. She wasn't a graceful dancer like Nesta, or a petite gardener like Elain. She was just the little girl in the background of all of their adventures.

Her father had always said that she was going to grow up to be a beautiful young woman, but her mother had always disagreed. The comments were things like her nose was too skinny, or her freckles were just uneven splotches that ruined her face. Her hair had too much brown and not enough gold, and her sharp eyes didn't match the rest of her features.

That last one was from her sisters. The blue eyes that she had inherited from her mother, the only thing that connected them both. Whenever they did share any moment that was remotely enjoyable, her mother would end up scolding her that she should be more like her sisters. Feyre did love her mother, but it was times like these where it was hard to believe that her mother loved her too.

Feyre's eyes immediately filled with tears that she thought had been long dried out from her sobbing these past hours. Even if they weren't the best of friends, they were still family. Feyre felt regret for her traitorous thoughts against her mother, but not as much as she should. For she would never hear her voice shouting at the back of her neck, or feel the anger that entered her whenever her mother would burn her toys as a punishment for the littlest things.

Because Meridith Archeron, Feyre's mother, was dead.