The Dragon-Tamer

25

*ONE MONTH LATER*

Feyre never thought to use her magic at times. There were days when she honestly forgot she had it. It was practical for most things, but Feyre wanted to be known for doing things without magic.

She honestly wished there was any magic powerful enough to cure her of this war going on in her mind. For weeks, Feyre has been haunted with nightmares. Some nights it would be of Silas's purple face; other nights, it was Rickon. They all ended the same. They would come back for revenge, and they would pick off Feyre's children, one by one, all while making her watch.

The dreams got so bad that Feyre could no longer find sleep after waking up. She would spend the rest of the night checking in on the children and then sitting with Alyssa in her nursery, feeling comforted by the sounds of her children's heartbeats. That's where she was now.

Feyre was so focused on her baby that she didn't hear Daemon enter the nursery, "What are you doing here?"

Feyre jumped, accidentally making a book fly at Daemon's head, "Gods above, Daemon!"

"I really shouldn't make a habit of spooking you," Daemon winced as he rubbed the side of his face,
"But what are you doing in here?"

"I couldn't sleep," Feyre looked at him apologetically, "What are you doing in here?"

"I like to come here sometimes, when I cannot sleep," Daemon gazes at Alyssa's cradle and sat down on the floor, "She...she soothes me, you know?"

Feyre nods and joins him, "I do know. I think it is because she is so innocent ; that she doesn't know all the things we have done."

Feyre felt tears pool into her eyes. She spent years repressing her sadness. She kept telling herself that it was weak; she needed to be strong for her family.

She couldn't hide it from Daemon though, "What is it? Are you alright?"

"I cannot lose this family, Daemon," Feyre's head shook, as well as her voice, "I cannot lose any of you."

Daemon let out a breath as he took in his friend's crying state. The last time he saw her in this state was after the late Queen Aemma's funeral. He glanced down to see Feyre's hand clenched in a fist at her side, her nails digging into her palm.

He moved towards her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest, "You will not lose us, Feyre."

"But what if I do?" Feyre let the tears fall down her cheeks, "If I lost any of you...."

"Calm down, Feyre ," Daemon held her face in his hands, "What brought this on?"

Feyre let out a sigh and wiped her tears away, "I just keep thinking that, one day, someone is going to find out what I did, and they will take my children away from me."

"I live in constant fear that it will all come crashing down, everything I have built," Feyre continued, pulling away from Daemon, "I could not live with myself if Rhaenyra lost the boys, or if you lost Baela, Rhaena, or Alyssa, because of me. And if I lost Aemma..."

Daemon's brows furrow, "Is this why you have kept Aemma's magic a secret? Because you are afraid that she'll suffer the same fate as you, or worse?"

"That girl was my light in the darkness, Daemon," Feyre smiles as she thinks of her eldest daughter, "Eleven years of suffering, and she was the reason I survived. If I were to lose her, I would burn the world down to get her back or die with her."

"Feyre..." Daemon tilted his head, looking at her not with pity, but with understanding. He knew exactly how she was feeling; he had often feared the same thing. He feared losing his family, his wife and children.