A Court of Hope and Healing

Part 1

     Lyra smiled weakly at the people entering her floral shop. It was part of her daily schedule, honestly.
     Wake up. Eat breakfast. Bathe. Open the shop for the day. Smile at customers. Close the shop. Go to sleep.
     Those days since her mother had died were…awful. Hard. She hadn’t functioned well since, and nightmares plagued her when she didn’t work herself to the bone. 
     She quickly wrapped a bouquet for the people who had entered, watching as they left. Her hands gripped the watering can next to her as she slipped outside, keeping an eye on her shop as she watered the greenery in front of her.
     She still saw the blood running through the cobblestone streets. Her mother’s brown hands sliced on glass, her glassy eyes-
     Lyra shook her head as she moved along. Her iron-wrought tables needed cleaning, and she needed to rework the vines that wrapped along them. The light faded slowly, the lanterns attached to her building glowing softly as she locked the door with magic. Velaris was a safe city and nobody would rob a flower shop, but…
     Locking the doors had become one of her rituals after the attack on the Rainbow. She closed her eyes as she warded the door, going around and locking the windows as well.
     She did a quick check over the storefront as she untied her apron, grabbing her thick sweater and her bag as she quickly put out the lights, and slipped out the back. She warded that door as well before she slipped onto the cobblestone road, people still milling about. She always left the store at the least busy time, to avoid thick crowds.
     Another thing that had changed since the attack.
     Lyra silently made her way out of the Rainbow, walking over one of the long, beautiful bridges that stretched over the Sidra. Her home was a beautiful townhouse on one of the side streets, an area still scarred from the attack.
     She barely spoke to anyone as she walked the streets, unwarded her wooden door, and stepped inside.
     The entryway held her coats and shoes, the wood floors solid under her feet. The walls were painted a soft light green, to remind her mother of home. Flowers of different types and shapes were painted along the bottom baseboard, something her father had apparently done. Her kitchen was up to date as well, white backsplash against the wall. Her cold storage was new as well. It had been a gift from Lord Rhysand, for her mother’s work for him.
     She dropped her bag on the counter silently, sitting at her desk in her room. Her long brown hair brushed against the armrests on her chair, her tan skin cold. She worked through some of the pricing for the store before falling into bed, eyes shutting tight.
     Lyra obviously hadn’t worked herself tired that day, because she dreamt.
     Actually, she had a nightmare.
     A dark cloud grew over Velaris, screaming coming from the far side of the Rainbow. Her mother slammed the store’s door shut, locking Lyra and the patrons inside. Lyra held a hatchet tightly, her hands shaking as her mother blocked the door. She screamed as the creatures tore into her mother’s dark skin, blood splattering the flowers outside. The patrons held her back as she sobbed, blood flowing down the cobblestone as massive water wolves roared down the streets. She-
     A gentle hand reached out, and Lyra knew who it was. She grabbed the hand tightly as Rhysand gently led her out of the nightmare, and back into reality. The Lord of Night stood in her room, his warm hands against her cold ones.
     Vines had smashed through the windows in her room. She hadn’t lost control of her magic entirely, but she had gotten close.
      Rhysand helped her sit up, sitting at her feet before handing her a glass of water. “Are you alright, Lyra..?” She gripped the cup tightly, staring at her lap. “How am I supposed to be? I…I watched her die, Rhys. I watched them tear her to shreds an-and…”
     His arms wrapped around as he tugged her into his lap, as he always did when she had nightmares and terrors. There was nothing romantic about it, just…brotherly love.
     Rhys had been friends with her family forever. Her mother supplied the plant life for his homes and events, and he had taken quite a liking to their little family. He had been there for her mother when her father had died, and now he was here for Lyra.
     It had been almost two full years since the attack. And even though Lyra’s world had ended, the world continued moving.
     Rhysand held her like a child, soothing her quietly. He looked exhausted…between her and the new baby, he…
     She gently pushed away from him, sliding back onto the bed.
     “Thank you, Rhys. I’m okay. You should head back home…” She gave him a weak smile, one they both knew was forced. He eyed her before standing, squeezing her hands gently.
     “Feyre has an art studio down the Rainbow. She runs classes everyday for anyone who wishes to paint…anything. Whatever they want. It's mostly for children, but she’s had a few adults in, too. I want you to go to one, Lyra.”
     She tensed a little. To live her mother’s slaughter over and over was one thing. To subject others to the nightmares that plagued her? Especially children?
     She immediately shook her head. “I can’t. Too busy. I have the shop, and-” He held up a hand. “I won’t force you to go. But consider it, alright?” Lyra nodded slightly and he kissed her hands before winnowing away.
     The small amount of light outside told her that it was still ridiculously early in the morning and should go back to sleep. So Lyra did the smart thing.
     She bathed quietly before dressing in leggings and a long sweater, leaving her feet bare as she snagged an apple from the misshapen woven basket on the counter.
     Basket weaving was a tradition from her mother’s court. Lyra had made the basket when she was fourteen, and although she had tried to replace the ugly thing multiple times, her mother would laugh, ruffle her hair, and shake her head.
      Lyra quietly stalked down the stairs to her small backyard, eyeballing her personal gardens. The blue hydrangeas against the fence had bloomed, and the lilies she kept had grown beautifully this year. They had always been her mother’s favorite…She sighed, gently petting the stray cat perched on the fence.
     The small golden cat hung out around the neighborhood a lot, likely getting fed scraps. Even Lyra left out any leftover food she had, mostly fruits and vegetables.
     It ran away happily, soon returning to watch Lyra slave away in the garden. She enjoyed it. It kept her mind off of her mother.
     She worked until sunlight warmed her skin, Lyra moving inside quietly. She ate breakfast in silence before quickly heading over the Sidra, back to her shop. Her magic worked quickly to unward everything, sprucing up any wilted flowers.
      The shop was only open for about an hour when Feyre and Rhysand walked in, little baby Nyx in his mother’s arms. Lyra waved a little bit as she finished wrapping a bouquet for an order, setting it aside as she leaned over the counter.
      “Hey, you two. What can I do for you this time?” Feyre smiled lightly at her. “Well, this little guy is almost six months old.” She held up her beautiful baby boy, Lyra cooing softly at him.
      “We need a few dozen bouquets for the Hewn City. We were thinking of lavender and black roses? It’s to introduce him as our heir.” Lyra nodded a little, writing on her notepad in her cursive handwriting that almost nobody could read.
     “You know I can do anything you two want. The black roses will be the hardest part, and I can grow those in a day. Less, even.”
     Rhysand nodded, glancing at his mate before sighing softly. “We have something else to ask of you, Lyra.” She raised an eyebrow, tearing off the first piece of paper as she pressed her quill against it. “Go on.”
     She barely registered the words as he said them, merely writing it down.
     “We want you to visit the Spring Court and try to talk to Tamlin.”
     Her head automatically shot up, her eyes going wide. “You want me to do what?!”
     Rhysand winced a bit at her shouting. Her voice had barely been above a whisper the past few years.
     “We want you to visit the Spring Court and try to talk to the High Lord. We know that it's a lot to ask, Lyra, we do. But you know the Spring Court well. I know that you and your mother visited every year…”
      She flinched at that. It was true, they had visited her mother’s family in the Spring Court every year since she was born. She knew the lands there better than anywhere else. Every tree, every hill…
     She hadn’t been back since the War. Since her mother was slaughtered in front of this beautiful flower shop.
     “I’ll go. I’ll do it.” Rhysand smiled gently, squeezing her hand. “Thank you, Lyra. This…This could save people all along Prythian.” Rhysand quickly paid for his order, smiling at her. “I’ll get you housing right outside the old estate. Cassian will be at your place every night to see how it's going, okay?”
      She nodded lightly. The male had always been kind to her, despite being a bit gruff.
     Rhys squeezed her hands once more. “I’ll pick you up in two days, alright? Right after lunch.” Lyra nodded again, the pair leaving soon after.
     She shut down the store, sighing a little. She’d have to pack up her home, as well as lock the store into a ward that’d keep it warm for the plants.
     Lyra sighed a bit. This was going to be rough.
                                 *****
     Lyra sat outside her store, ‘Twilight Bouquets’, waiting for Rhysand. Her trunk of clothes was her chair, another bag by her feet.
     Her brown hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and she wore leggings that cut off mid-calf. Her black shirt had thin straps, and she wore a sort of brown cardigan. Rhysand soon walked down the street, helping her heave the luggage up. “Ready, Lyra?” She nodded lightly, glancing over to the shop. She sighed a little, grabbing his hand. Rhys winnowed them, and Lyra nearly cried as the smell of roses and home exploded into her nose.
     She glanced around, rolling hills and trees around her. They were in a small town outside the old estate, only a few miles away. Rhysand had winnowed her in front of a small cottage on the edge of town. It was a white brick building with a beautiful thatched roof. Large trees outside shaded the place, beautiful flowers in front.
      Rhysand smiled lightly, squeezing her shoulder. “I tried to make it something you’d enjoy. The interior is like your house…” She smiled softly at that, quiet. “..thank you, Rhys.” She hugged him tightly, the male smiling. “He’s mostly been seen near the estate, okay? If you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell Cassian, okay? We’ll bring you home.” Lyra nodded, watching as Rhys winnowed away.
     She unpacked quickly, tugging boots on and heading outside.
     Lyra avoided the townspeople, heading down the worn path towards the ruined estate of the High Lord of the Spring Court.

A/N: Part 1 ends here! Lyra isn't the most complicated character I've written, but she may be one of my favorites. Also, I will be going full "Beauty and the Beast" with this. ACOTAR gave us a twisted version of the tale, but I'm just going for it. This part is 1935 words.