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fenrys-moonbae · 5 years

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Lily of the Night - Prelude

Summary: I was named after the night lilies that bloomed on the far side of the Sidra.The large pale, cream colored flowers with veins of plum midnight that entwined paths through their velvet soft petals. The same flowers that were said to grant wishes on Starfall. Father always said it was those flowers that gave him me...I never meant to resurrect that bird in the garden that evening and never meant to start the chain of events that nearly lead to the destruction of not only Prythian but the world.Post-Acowar following the life of Feysand's daughter and her journey to find her way home and stop the wrath of the Mother and the Cauldron. Includes numerous OC's and canon characters. Story will follow both the main characters and OC's. Prologue--Mourning the Lost I was named after the night lilies that bloomed on the far side of the Sidra. The large pale, cream colored flowers with veins of plum midnight that entwined paths through their velvet soft petals. The palm sized blooms whose aroma mimicked the sweet caress of rain and the sharp tinge of sodden earth.

The same flowers that were said to grant wishes on Starfall—that is, if you were lucky enough to witness one blooming under the light of the traveling spirits that passed through Velaris that night.

The lilies were said to only bloom every few hundred years and only on the night the dancing spirits passed.Father always said it was those flowers that gave him me, that he’d wished on a single bloom he saw open in the glittering light that night and it was precisely a year later that he got me.

The heavenly star gifted to the Court of Dreams. A beacon of hope after the dark night that had encompassed Prythian, the darkness that had stolen so many lives but had carved a path of hope.

Uncle, however, said heavenly was the last word he’d use to describe me, “heathen” and “bossy” were more suited. In hindsight, I’d be inclined to agree.

Brother had been born before me, the heir to the throne of the Night Court and arguably one of the most powerful beings to grace Pyrthian. It was said that Mother would not be able to bear children after him, after the sheer hell it had been bringing such a powerful being into the world and the fact it had nearly cost her life. My birth had been nothing short of miraculous in light of it. My birth had been milder, one might almost venture to have called it peaceful. My power did not rattle to the ends of Pyrthian as my brothers did. I was born with no power that could rival that of my brother or parents, or so they had thought. It was believed that I was just a precious flower given as a gift of peace to the Night Court, a child born in harmony and as a symbol of good fortune. How wrong they had all been. It wasn’t long before my power manifested itself and proved to be far more frightening than anything my brother or parents possessed. I hadn’t meant to bring that baby bird back from the dead that evening in the garden, didn’t mean to scare my brother and didn’t mean to reverse the scars on uncle Azriel’s hands when Mother asked me to show her what I had done. The ability to undo what had been done, the power the resurrect the dead and return time to a state it existed at previously. I didn’t know how I was able to even do such things, but somehow I could. It scared the Court of Dreams to say the least.

They began scrambling to understand where such power could originate from, to understand just how such power could have manifested. There were whispers and fear, so much fear, of what enemies would do to me, what they would do to obtain my power if they knew what I could do. Harsh whispers and mention of safety plans, protect her, it was spoken over and over, protect, protect, protect. Hide and protect. Mother told me everything would be okay, that we would figure out and, above all else, they would protect me at any and all costs. How wrong she had been. It was that same night that things changed ten years after my birth. The night the darkness encompassed the Court of Dreams and the shining star they’d all come to love was stolen away in the night. The night the celestial blooms given by the mother to those who had earned her blessing began dying.The same night that I died. ————- “PAPA!!!” The young girl cried, large violet eyes brimming with tears and voice cracking as her hands shoved hard against the thick cords of the muscle of the arms, MY arms, pinning her, “Please PAPA!!” No… Wind tore at my face and jacket, the powerful wings at my back sending us flying for the coast, the smell of the sea bombarding my senses, the scent of fear entangled with it. I felt the dark chuckle rip from my throat, the hideous sound that didn’t belong there, the body I had no control over-- as I fought, thrashing against the bonds, the heavy chains blocking me from moving my own body. I felt my hand dig harshly into her side, hard enough to tear skin, earning a scream of agony from the small child as she thrashed trying to escape, pleading to be released.

The wind ripped her long black locks away from her face, knotting the silky strands into tangles. Those violet eyes, my eyes, stared up at me, terror and panic reflecting back in the pale light of the moon as she whimpered another plea.

Bargains of never misbehaving again, promises of never instigating fights with her brother, saying she loved me and she what sorry for whatever she had done…

The freezing air bit into my skin painfully, but more painfully into the girls face, flushed red from the biting cold and her sobbing. The hoarseness of her voice became more profound as she whimpered yet another plea.

“I thought you wanted to fly?” I heard my own voice mock the child, my child, as she screamed into the night for her mother, for Cassian, Azriel, anyone.

Stop.

I screamed and threw myself harder into the walls blocking me, her words tearing my heart down its seams. I was helpless and useless, unable to do anything but watch as the scene of horror unfolded before me.

A blood curdling scream tore from her throat as I felt my hands wrap around the delicate membrane of her wings, the gift of her Illyrian blood, my Illyrian blood-as I tore them off.

Tissue screamed as it severed, popping sickeningly as it tore free. Blood gushed in every direction, splattering across my face and hers.

Numbness cascaded through me as I fruitlessly fought against it, against the wrongness of what lay before me, of what I’d been useless to stop--

It was too much to handle, I’d destroyed it, the beautiful gift from my mate and the Mother herself.I felt myself drop the child, her body limp having lost consciousness from the pain and trauma. I screamed in agony for anything to stop it, to cease the sin I’d just committed unable to stop myself--

----————

I shot up in a blind fury, scrambling for anything in the darkness to tether to, but there was nothing.

Celeste, Celeste, Celeste. The name thrummed through me like a drum, nausea reared up to meet me, I felt my stomach tighten, preparing to empty itself on the floor.

Black shadows engulfed the room, so dark and dense that I couldn’t see anything before me. The house trembled beneath the might of it.

Soft, cool hands were on me instantly, gentle words of comfort were murmured as those hands worked soothing circles on my back. A dream, not your fault, I’m here. Those words....Truth to those words, truth except one. It wasn’t alright. Celeste, my daughter, my precious child, stolen in the night right from under our noses.The same little girl who we had searched for in a blind panic in those critical hours following her capture. The same little girls who’s precious, so small and precious, wings had been found torn from her body near the border of the Day Court, violently and viciously ripped from her small frame---

I lost it, couldn’t contain it. I emptied the contents of my stomach on the floor, tears blindly running down my face.

Heaving I propped myself on my hands, sorrow and blind rage coursing through my system as I realized I hadn’t been able to save her. As I heaved the final contents of my stomach I felt the soft patter of droplets on my back, tears from my mate.

“Feyre,” I gasped, glancing on my shoulder to look at her, to try and comfort in nightmare made real-

“Don’t,” her words were clipped, forced to be calm as she held tightly onto me, “Just don’t. We….there’s….please.”

The last word came out in a broken sob as I felt my High Lady bury her soft face against my back, her thin arms wrapped around my back and chest tethering us both.

It’d been almost thirteen years since we had lost Celeste and still the nightmares would not cease.

The nightmares of seeing myself kill my daughter over and over. The pain of losing her hadn’t faded. They had been so sneaky, so quick when they took her. We’d had virtually no time to respond to find her. We’d torn the world apart looking for her, racing against all odds.

Those odds had run out.We’d been too late.

We’d failed.

No, I’d failed.

So no words came to me as I flipped over and tucked Feyre into my arms, her frame so small and fragile against mine, and held her. Our tears entwined as they fell freely, as we lay prone on the soft carpet of our room, the world too quiet, too serene. We’d never found her body. Just her shredded wings- A sob escaped my chest.

This hell just wouldn’t end.

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