A Court of Blood and Glory

Wingless Illyrian

           

Feyre

I told Mor about what happened between Rhys and I in the Court of Nightmares whilst we were upstairs, and we were still talking about it when we walked downstairs, Amren suddenly perking up as we walk in on her.

"Feyre, have you and Rhys been having sex?" I was startled by her question, but still told her the truth; we had.
"I thought so. You are pregnant, Feyre."
Pregnant. Pregnant? I couldn't be pregnant, we were at war!
"How can you tell?" I asked when my voice came back to me.
"I may be trapped in a fae form but I still have a stronger sense of smell than all of you. You are carrying his heir, and they are a strong one. That's how I can tell now; it's a very powerful child."

A baby, and Rhys's heir. He said once that any of his heirs would have a target on their backs the moment they were born.
And what about me? I wasn't sure if I wanted to be pregnant, especially during the war to come!
I had to sit down, had to process the information. Mor, sensing my agitation, took my hand, shock on her face, but also happiness, and I realised that I was happy about it, too. The timing was awful, but to bear Rhys's child was an honour, and I knew that he would be an excellent father.
"How do I tell him?" I asked no one in particular.
"Sit down with him and speak slowly." Mor said, her eyes lined with unshed tears of joy. "Fae males get way too overprotective of their females when they find out. But knowing Rhys he would suppress his urges to allow you to do what you want."
I nodded as she spoke, taking everything and nothing in at once.

"I will tell him tonight, over dinner."
"Do you want us all there or just the two of you?" Amren asked, her voice surprisingly soft.
"I want to tell Rhys in his own first, and see how he reacts."

Mor cooked the meal for me, as I couldn't cook to save my life. She left just before Rhys was to arrive, allowing me time to prepare myself.

I had told him to dress nice, and the dining table in the House of Wind was laid out, Rhys's favourite food prepared and on the table.

I heard the sound of wings, and Cassian quickly dropped Rhys off before returning back to the house – Rhys was fine being carried when flying now that he new he was getting his wings back.

I'd told my mate to dress well, and he'd certainly cleaned up.
He wore a black tunic with silver embroidery on the cuffs and neckline. His trousers were simple black, and his shoes shined to perfection. He was the night embodied.

He walked towards me, taking in my gown. If he was the night then I was the stars, my dress black with gleaming crystals covering the skirt, which was made of many layers that shimmered as I walked. The low cut neckline showed off my breasts and tattoos, which Rhys's eyes lingered on for a moment.

"Beautiful." He breathed.

"Not too bad yourself my love." He walked towards me, his hands cupping my face as he kissed me slowly and deeply.
Once we pulled apart I led him over to the small candlelit table, where bowls of stew awaited us.

"Mor's a good cook." He said as he tucked into the meal. "Don't look at me like that," He said, taking in my annoyed but playful look, " you burnt my toast when we accepted our mating bond, if you can't make toast you can't make anything."

"Prick." Was my only response, and he chuckled at that.
"Why all the formality, Feyre darling, why here?"

"I wanted us to be alone, away from any distractions, as I have something very important to tell you." I said, he sat up straighter and took in a breath, holding it whilst he heard what I had to say. "I'm pregnant." I said, my voice soft, almost a whisper.

I thought he'd stopped breathing for a minute, and I didn't dare speak as he processed the information.
Finally, he looked at me, but didn't show any emotion other than shock.
"Do you want to bear a child?" He asked, his voice barely audible.
"I do, very much. Especially if they are yours."
He smiled, and it lit up the room.
"I love you, Feyre darling, more than anything."

"I love you too, Rhys."

He came around the table, our dinner completely forgotten, and pulled my close, his mouth finding my own, his tongue parting my lips. He pulled back only to go in again, slowly and deeply.

"The downside to you being pregnant is that it's nine months of no sex. How will I survive?" He gave a fake sigh, and I couldn't help but laugh quietly.

"There's nothing wrong with sex whilst I'm pregnant." Feyre added pointedly, raising her eyebrow at Rhys.

"Maybe. But I don't want to risk hurting our precious little child, not when fae pregnancies are rare to begin with."

"We will have to go soon, or the Illyrians will trash our lovely house." I said eventually, though I was desperate for that not to be the case.

"Thank you, for being a wonderful mate." Was all he said before winnowing back to the town house and kicking everyone out.

"Is it true that you fae males become overprotective of pregnant females?"

"Yes, but you will find that Cassian and Azriel will behave the same way that I do when it comes to protecting you, as it is their duty to protect their High Lady. Good luck doing anything for yourself for nine months." It was my turn to sigh.
"Oh well. I guess I'll just have to deal with hot males doting on me hand and foot. How will I survive?" He picked up on my sarcasm, and then made me pay dearly.

"I will make the lack of sex awful for you, Feyre darling." He whispered into my ear, before nipping at my earlobe, making my senses go on high alert, and making me aware of how close we were.

But he pulled back, to my dismay, and took three steps backwards, staying firmly away from me.
Prick.
You love me really.
No I don't.
He laughed, and we chose to go up to bed, Rhys touching me to torture every nerve in my body.

"Only eight months and thirty days to go." He said before climbing into bed, staying firmly on his side all night.

We winnowed to the edge of the Illyrian war camp, Amren opting to remain behind again to study the book. We began to walk in, and I could hear Rhys's heartbeat pounding in his cheast.
Feyre darling, I don't know if I can do this.
Of course you can, Rhys. We are all here for you.
We finally entered the clearing where the camp was based, and as we walked through the Illyrians everyone turned to stare at Rhys, who showed his stumps and walked with pride, although I knew that it was all an act. He wanted nothing more than to leave and never return.

But we had a war to win, and Rhys had to lead it.