Work Text:
She entered the room, her mind still absorbed in the dozens of papers she had just read and signed. She heard their laughter before she saw Mor and Cassian, sprawled on the couch, chatting and laughing with a cup of coffee in hand, a rare moment for the pair of them, usually occupied in various mission throughout the Night Court. She smiled at the sight and greeted them with a joyful “hey!”. Next to them, in the middle of the room so to speak, Rhysand was sat crossed leg on the floor. His hands were holding his daughter seated in from of him, in case she decided to throw herself forward or backward, something she used to do quite often and that made her giggle to no end. She was babbling happily, undecipherable words and bubbles of drool coming out of her little mouth. Feyre’s heart beamed at the sight, her little girl turned her head to the side as she heard her approach and, with a broad smile, burbled “mmma!”
Cassian and Morrigan cooed at the attempt of the word, their attention now drawn to the baby on the floor.
“Yes! That is mama, my love. ‘Ma-ma’, you’re almost there. My good girl!” beamed Rhys, before planting a kiss atop her brow. “Now “papa”. Can you say papa first?”
Feyre snorted at Rhysand’s reaction. He had been trying innumerable ruses for the past weeks so that their daughter’s first word would be “papa”. Each tentative had been unsuccessful, to Rhys’s despair and to the inner circle’s greatest amusement.
Feyre bent down and sat on her knees next to Rhys, she brushed her lips against her mate’s cheek before turning to her daughter. “Hello, lovely! How are you today? You’re having fun with papa, auntie Mor and uncle Cass?” she asked in her “baby voice” as they call it. They all had sworn they would not talk to their child with a baby voice as soon as they knew Feyre was pregnant. Feyre had always found that stupid and made everyone sworn they would address their daughter with a normal voice. But as soon as the babe had entered the world, they all started cooing and babbling to the child, using a soft and shrill voice whenever they would talk to her. Out of every member of the inner circle, Cassian had surprised them all. His usual deep voice going so high that they all burst into laughter the first time they heard him, which had won them a harsh stare and a scoff from him, before he turned back to squishing the newborn’s cheeks, cooing and awing to no end.
“Oh, Auntie and uncle are definitely having fun!” railed Rhys, “instead of doing their work,” he added with a wink. “It appears that the weather is too cold outside for their poor, delicate skin. You would not think those two were raised and trained Illyrian warriors!” he said with fake annoyance lining his voice.
Feyre playfully rolled her eyes, “Poor Illyrian babies!” and winked at Cassian.
“Well! Technically I wasn’t, dear cousin. Besides, I don’t remember you complaining 10 minutes ago, when I got up to make you hot cacao…” Mor answered, a devilish grin marking her face.
“Well, I am, now!” he said, before he darted out his tongue like a five year old.
Mor audibly snorted at his reaction and looked back at the child. Feyre had taken her on her lap, the girl’s tiny back pressed against her mother’s chest. She had made the terrible mistake of letting her hair untied, they were framing the girl’s face who did not lose one second before grabbing and tugging the hair, babbling in a delighted way. Earning a few groans and hisses of pain from Feyre.
Azriel entered the room surrounded by his shadows as Rhysand and Mor were still arguing about “work”. He let out a heavy breath while he took off his coat dripping with melting snow. Feyre immediately noticed how tired he looked, but his face lit up the moment he saw the little girl on Feyre’s lap.
“Oh! Who is that? Is that uncle Azriel? Yes, say ‘Azriel’” said Feyre to her child. The baby beamed at Azriel and stretched her arms towards him. “Azve!” she gurgled. The entire room cooed at the sound while Azriel walked toward her, a broad smile on his face, and knelt down to grab the little girl. He sat in front her parents as she squealed in delight and let her whole weight crash against his chest, her little head snuggled under his chin, tiny fists clinging to his leathers.
“Just so that we are clear, this does not count as her first word!” exclaimed Rhysand while Azriel was turning the child on his lap, so that she could see everyone and rest her back against his chest.
“Still trying to make her say ‘papa’ as her first word I see.” Drawled the shadowsinger. “Making any progress?” he asked with a smirk.
Before Rhys could answer, Cassian blurted, “hell no! he’s been at it for the last 20minutes and she’s just been babbling sounds and nonsense. But it’s a hell of fun to see him try.”
“I bet!” said Az, still smiling, before softly brushing his nose against the little girl’s hair.
Feyre’s heart squeezed at the sight. The relationship between her daughter and Azriel had immediately been special and stronger than with any other member of their family. Her first smile had been addressed to the shadowsinger as he was bent over her crib, his shadows were surrounding his face, taking up different animal shapes, making them move as if they were alive. Since she was born Azriel was smiling more and more, and especially when he was in her presence. They already had a link and an understanding between one another that Feyre could not explain. Even as she was only a few weeks old, the mere presence of Azriel would soothe the girl. She would start fidgeting less and crying less when he was in the same room, even if she had no way to see or hear him.
“Yet, I’m pretty sure she will be able to say ‘Azriel’ in no time. Right, little monster?” the shadowsinger asked to the child. “Right after you have said ‘mama’ and ‘papa’, of course” he added jokingly.
“peh! Peh!” she gurgled, brow frowning.
“Yes, ‘papa’!” said Feyre, pointing to Rhysand next to her. “That is your papa!”
Admiration and eternal love could be read in Rhysand’s eyes who could not tear of his gaze from his daughter, nor could he wipe the delighted grin off his face.
“Oh my darling! You will be as cunning as your father, I am sure of it” he cooed.
She shifted her attention from her mother to her father at his words. Her little face lighted up and she exclaimed with a jet of spit “Prik!”
The whole room held their breath for a second, neither of them sure if they had heard right and they all turned their attention to the child in a stunned silence.
Unhappy to have no answer from her father, the little girl strained her hands toward Rhys and repeated, “P- prrick!”
Cassian immediately burst into laughter, gliding down and almost falling off the couch. Mor howled both at the child’s first word and the sight of Rhysand’s face. He was standing utterly still, eyes fixed on his child, mouth gaping in astonishment. Feyre and Azriel were both looking alternatively at the child and at Rhysand, both trying their best to suppress their laugh, both failing miserably. The child resumed her incoherent babbling, clapping her hand, happy to see everyone laugh.
“Well done darling! You said your first word!” cooed Feyre to the girl, she was still chuckling but was feeling infinitely proud, and a bit guilty. Perhaps she should try to mind her language when she was around her daughter.
“Well, she sure is the daughter of our High Lady,” jibed Cassian and winked to Feyre. “Is little Rhysie proud of his daughter? Or did she finally find a way to shut him up.” Feyre could not help but wince at the taunt, unsure of how Rhysand would react. He was still gaping, looking at his daughter and blinking slowly.
“Rhys?” she asked, getting worried.
He slowly looked up towards Cassian, as if finally registering his questions, then turned to Feyre. A fat teardrop was running on his cheek when he squealed, he actually squealed, to Feyre’s greatest astonishment: “She said her first word!!!” She had never seen him prouder.
They all burst out laughing again.