A Feyre x Rhysand Fan Fiction

Part 6

It was a few days later when Alis came in to Feyre's room, in the hopes of measuring Dahlia and seeing if she had gained or lost weight since delivery. Feyre waited impatiently, hovering as a possessive mother did, as Alis did all that she needed to do.

"You know, for all of the things going on outside of this room, she's healthier than I would have thought." Alis commented, handing her daughter back to Feyre in the next second. It was a relief to hear her say that, but Feyre wondered if she could be healthier, if the inner turmoil that was still plaguing Feyre had anything to do with the reason why Dahlia didn't look bigger than when she had been delivered almost two weeks ago.

"You don't think..." Feyre paused, "You don't think she could be healthier, could you? Do you think there's anything wrong with her? Anything at all?" and though Feyre never would have imagined herself as a possessive, overbearing mother, there she was.

Alis sighed, rolling her eyes sarcastically, "I think that you're doing the very best that you can, under the circumstances. And I think that as...complicated as the situation between you and your High Lords is right now," Feyre didn't fake the cringe that ran through her when Alis mentioned her High Lords. It was obvious to nearly everyone that she had some sort of claim on both of them, "Your daughter is as healthy as your body will allow." and with a faint smile, Alis nodded, going towards the door, "You are doing a fine job at being a mother, Feyre. Much better than some." and with that, the faerie left.

It was a few hours before anyone came to visit her again. And this time it was Lucien. Feyre almost wanted to laugh. It seemed that they three were on rotation, drawing sticks as to who would come visit her each day. Hopefully soon she would be able to leave this Cauldron-forsaken room.

"How are you today?" Lucien asked, swinging his arms as he went to sit lazily in the chair beside her bed. She did laugh this time at his expression, because he appeared to be a little tipsy - not something that she had seen in quite a while.

"I'm fine. Though, I wonder why you're drinking so early in the morning." it was just barely noon, and though she knew the Autumn Fae didn't need an excuse to drink this early in the morning, Feyre knew that there had to be at least one good reason. Most likely the Night Lord waiting in the gardens of the manor, as he always did.

Lucien waved a hand at her nonchalantly, "I'm perfectly capable of holding my liquor." he answered her.

She chuckled at that, shifting Dahlia's weight onto her other arm, "That," she said, pausing, "was not my question."

There was another knock on the door then, and just as she turned to face the new addition to the room, Lucien jolted up from his seat beside her, moving a little sloppily as he stood and bowed his head to Tamlin, whom just sighed, frustrated, at his emissary and friend.

"If I could have a word with Feyre." Tamlin started, his formality showing as he said the words. Lucien stumbled toward the door at Tamlin's request, and just before he slunk through the door, his metal eye whirring the entire time, Tamlin clapped him on the shoulder. And though he whispered his next words, Feyre could still hear him when he said, "Go sober up, Lucien." his words were not harsh, just persistent enough that Feyre had to think something was wrong.

When the door was finally closed after Lucien left, and Tam drew closer to her bedside, she let her worries speak aloud.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Tamlin sighed and she knew it was because he was exhausted. From lack of sleep, from this Cauldron-damned situation they were currently in, or for the politics of being a High Lord - politics that he had never wanted to deal with in the first place.

"It appears as if the other Courts have learned of your daughter's birth, and they are blatantly debating whether or not to call the child Spring or Night. The questions of the child's parentage are...endless." Tamlin sighed, and Feyre didn't know how to respond, "Autumn is the most vocal, Lucien's father debating whether or not to send a welcoming party for your daughter, as it appears she will be the heir to one of our Courts." and Tamlin stopped there, not knowing what else to say.

Feyre wasn't sure how to respond either.

When she finally did find the words, she cleared her throat, "What do you plan to tell Lucien's father?"

Tamlin rolled his shoulders, sitting down suddenly in the chair at her side, his exhaustion hitting his face and his gold-green eyes. She wanted to reach out to him and take away whatever pain he was feeling, but she could not.

"That's why I came here first, before I made a decision. She is your daughter, not mine. It wouldn't be fair to make a decision for you." and he waited for her to say something in return.

"I-I..." she couldn't make a decision like that so quickly. Did she want her daughter to belong to Spring, or did she want Dahlia to have the chance to see the beautiful, mountain and star-covered Night Court that she had somehow also fallen in love with? Dahlia technically did belong to the Night Court, as her father was its High Lord...but Feyre considered herself as a part of Spring, the first Court that she had fallen in love with, and the Court that she currently resided in. If Feyre said that Dahlia belonged to the Night Court, that would mean she would need to live there. And Feyre could not so easily give her daughter to Rhysand to raise, nor could she so easily leave Tamlin, not when she had told him just the other day that she loved him - that she would always love him. No matter what she felt for Rhysand, what that other woman in her mind thought, Feyre wanted Tamlin.

"You do not need to decide now." he said, "I...understand the stress of this decision. But, I am sure the Night Court's High Lord," Feyre noticed how Tamlin did not say - did not want to say - Rhysand's name, "is debating the same things that I am, questions coming in from his own Court of this matter." Tamlin was all politics and polite manners right now, a side of him that Feyre did not particularly like.

Feyre nodded, "I'll think about things and let you know."

That effectively ended their conversation, as Tamlin nodded and left the room, leaving her once again to herself.

Looking down at her daughter - who was quietly looking up at her, seemingly fascinated in the way her mother's hair gleamed in the soft afternoon light streaming from the windows - and sighed. How innocent her daughter was, not knowing at all how incredibly frustrating and demanding the world outside those doors were. She would see in the future what Feyre had to deal with, she just hoped that Dahlia would handle it much better than she was.

"What are we going to do?" Feyre asked, as if her daughter could answer back. Unfortunately, she did not, just kept staring at her silently until Feyre pressed her lips to Dahlia's forehead, making her daughter coo, delighted in the contact. That small sound made Feyre smile, a bright light in the darkness that seemed to have overtaken her life.