Another World

Part 4

Feyre stood as still as death, Rhysand's eyes glinted with tears. Little Elanna dropped her mother's hand and turned around to Aelin, her bright violet-pink eyes wide. The youngling's eyes were assessing, careful but eager. She was curious. Aelin, meanwhile, was staring at nothing.

Fenrys, she knew Fenrys. She had grown to love him, he was now her family, her brother. And he was from this dimension. He and his twin brother, whom she had not met yet. Elanna took small steps toward Aelin, wringing her small hands on her dress.

"You know my brothers?" Her voice was angelic, it was adorable.

Aelin blinked. "Yes." She looked up at Feyre. "Yes, I know Fenrys."

She hoped he was safe. She had managed to escape to another world, but she had left him behind.

Rhysand dropped heavily on the floor, crouching. He shoved his face in his hands and—

Rhysand wept. Feyre watched, shocked, as her mate sat low on his calves and cried.

His broad shoulders sagged up and down. Violent, silent sobs shook his body, Feyre went and kneeled in front of him. She took his big hands in hers and kissed his knuckles, tears streaming down her face.

Elanna ran to them and circled them with her arms as best as she could, her innocence did not let her understand why her parents were crying. She wanted them to stop, she did not like them being sad.

"Do you want a hug, daddy? Will it make you stop crying?" Elanna whispered.

Rhysand only cried harder, even though quiet, he was shaking. He hugged his daughter tightly.

Elain turned to Azriel and went into his arms. Her knuckles were white of clutching his shirt, Azriel could only rub circles on her back, whispering sweet things to try to calm her.

Mor looked in the edge of tears, covering her mouth with her ring-adorned hands. Amren's jaw was tightly clenched, like she did not want to show emotion, but she looked at her High Lord with sadness. Understanding.

Rhysand wiped his nose with his sleeve. He looked at what he just did, and laughed. His cheeks stained with salty tears, he laughed at his ruined black sleeve. Everyone joined in, happy to see him well.

Aelin said, "Rhysand. I know this is a bad moment, but you had said the Prin—King, looked familiar..."

"Please, tell me." He said, sniffing.

Aelin turned to Rhysand. "Can you show me a memory of him as a babe—"

Rhysand winnowed in front of her in a flash, he stuck his hand out. Aelin took it.

"Feyre, you are a glowing mother." I joked, with a smile covering half my face. "Beautiful as Starlight."

She cradled a babe in her arms. Our son. His bare head was barely covered with dark hair, his little wet fists tried to open, to grasp at the world.

"He's a fighter, I know it." Feyre said. "Look at how he tries to open his eyes..."

I leaned down over my beautiful mate's shoulder. "Open your eyes, little warrior."

The newborn opened his eyes. The color of the sea, with never-ending blue colors. They seemed to change shades every second, like the sky in a storm.
The babe's face lightened up in a smile, his eyes crinkling.

He let out a delighted wail as he kicked at the air with his small, chubby legs.

Our son would be a fighter.