𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Where It All Began

Hi guys, this is an excerpt from the first chapter of the prequel which is now posted on my profile. :)

Chapter 1

Rhysand heard the wooden thud before he opened his eyes. When he did peel them apart, he was met with shadows. One shadow, in particular, moved. He smiled despite the grogginess of being awoken in the middle of the night after a long day and watched as a small, stocky body wobbled along the floor of his bedroom. His eyes adjusted just in time to watch the tiny, chubby fingers grip the side of his mattress and the mischievous violet eyes peek over between them a moment later, directly in front of his face.

"You're supposed to be asleep," he croaked. Her cot, a small wooden thing that sat only as tall as his knee, was on the other side of the room. Easy to climb out of, but being an adventurous creature, their mother deemed it safer rather than risking his sister attempt to climb out of a taller one.

His sister gave a toothy smile, the small white teeth barely the size of his smallest nail. "Food," she said, the word coming out choppy. Arwen bounced slightly and he heard the small little taps of excited feet against the floor.

"It's nighttime. Sleep time."

"Food," she said, dragging the word out as if testing every syllable—perhaps thinking he didn't understand what she wanted. Arwen pushed higher on her toes and a short arm clawed toward him before her finger pushed against his lips, smashing them against his teeth. "Food, Rhysie." She missed the 'hy' development of his name, making it sound more like Reesee.

He could continue lying there and argue, he contemplated, or get the midnight snack that he was now thinking about and hope it would settle her enough to go back to bed. "Food in the morning?" he suggested. The glare he received from the two-year-old was utterly humorous. Determined, for certain, but he wasn't sure she'd ever be a force of terror.

Swinging his legs out from underneath the covers in defeat, he left Arwen to follow him out and down the short hall of the Windhaven cabin. More light thuds trailed in his wake. Carrying babes—coddling them—was believed to stunt development. Rhysand didn't care for it, but Arwen too often squirmed for freedom anyway.

"Quiet, alright. Ma is sleeping," he told her. Arwen grinned and put a finger to her lips.

Brain still fogged with drowsiness, he set a few spoonfuls of pureed apple into a bowl, not bothering to try and figure out what else she would be able to eat before grabbing a small bag of honeyed nuts for himself. Sinking to the cold kitchen floor, the room left in darkness, he leant against a counter and spread his legs out before him.

Arwen clambered over his feet, eyes set on her target. She snatched the bow, the spoon rattling against it and squatted to carefully place it down between his legs. She turned back to him, tipping in the narrow space she had but keeping herself upright. Gripping his nightshirt, she climbed onto the length of his thigh, tilting even more.

Rhysand smiled as his sister laid a sloppy, tongue-poking kiss on his cheek. He resisted wiping away the leftover saliva as she crawled her way back down. Meticulously, Arwen lined herself up and sat down just above his knee, wriggling until she was comfortable, and picked up her bowl. Like he was her damn throne.

He snorted at the thought and nibbled on the honeyed nuts. Her hairhad grown faster than normal in the past months, the raven strands hanging just below her shoulders. The small wings on her back were still stiff, as they would be until she grew older.

Rhysand's head tipped back against the counter and the bag of nuts loose in his hand.

"Done."

Jerking awake, he blinked again and rubbed at his eyes. Arwen stood before him, holding her emptied bowl in both hands like an offering. Too tired to do anything with it, he waved his hand and sent to bowl to an oblivion. "Bed now?"