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I stood in the red dirt training ring at the House of Wind, hitching my knees weakly to my chest and swinging my arms. A poor attempt to wear in my new set of leathers. As I did so, I pushed aside the sharp twang of insecurity I felt, remembering how a month or two after Nyx was born I had tried on my old and beloved Illyrian leathers, only to discover the laces at the front of my pants would not tighten any further, much less tie. The buckles at my hips and waist wouldn’t clasp, the small hooks and buttons at the collar unable to be fastened over my milk-swollen breasts.
Foolishly hoping something could be done, I had run downstairs to have Mor fiddle with the various accouterments, only to be met with the whole inner circle lounging and chatting animatedly in my sitting room. As soon as I entered, the room went quiet, save for Nesta’s stifled laugh.
“Looks like you need new leathers made, Feyre.” she quipped. Her eyes were initially bright with mirth, but quickly darkened as she felt the glares of the others upon her. Nyx curled closely to her chest, sleeping soundly. “Oh, shit…sorry.”
With Nesta, her coarse habits as the elder sister died hard.
I rolled my eyes, but hurt rolled in the pit of my stomach. “Hand me my baby,” I grumbled.
Cassian sighed and ran a wary hand through his dark hair, while Rhys sent a loving caress down the bond, still glaring. She passed Nyx over, and I trudged up the stairs without a word.
Later that night I held my son and cried hot and heavy tears as Rhys snored beside me. And maybe it was the hormones, but I couldn’t help but feel incredibly isolated in my experience as a mother. Everything and everyone had changed. I was no longer Feyre Cursebreaker, Defender of the Rainbow, the High Lady who was strong and fearless. I was Nyx’s mother - still strong but in different ways. My hips wider, my stomach softer. Emotion and hormones clouding my usually clear mind. Nesta and Elain had suggested a wet nurse, as my mother had done for me. This had ensued in my immediate and almost violent refusal, claiming I would never parent as our mother did. Yet, I yearned for the days when I could fully resume my duties as High Lady alongside Rhys, when I didn’t have an infant constantly latched to my breast.
***
Feyre? Are you alright?
I blinked, waking from my reverie. Rhys was speaking into my mind as he stood in front of me, looking concerned.
I shook my head and went to grab a sword and shield nearby. Around me, priestesses warmed up in various groups. Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie were laughing with Cassian, teasing him over something that was turning his cheeks pink.
Cassian turned and saw me, grinning widely, “Not so fast, Mrs. High Lady. You gotta work your way back to the sword. Start with some cardio.”
I dropped the items and placed a hand on my hip. “Cass - I’ve been hunting and fighting for years now. You think I need to start from the beginning just because I took time off to give birth to the heir of the court you call home?”
“Yes,” he replied. “It’s been over a year since you fully trained. Now get moving!”
I turned to look at my mate, who threw his hands up, shaking his head. Grumbling to myself, I tied back my hair and went to begin my jog around the training area. As I ran, I took note of the tightness in my muscles, a dull ache settling in already. My lungs burned with each deep breath, but I persisted, determined to not appear weak in front of my friends and the priestesses.
In the early days of my pregnancy I had continued to train, working hard until Rhys practically begged me to stop for the sake of the babe. Even then, I made sure to keep active.
But it was no secret that having Nyx altered my body. And my mind.
Trying to focus on anything but running and the sweat now dripping from my brow, I thought back to a few days ago when the inner circle had stayed over at the river house after a particularly long meeting involving lots of wine. I had been wrenched awake from a nightmare with a bloodcurdling scream, frantically pawing at the sheets in search of blood as if I was in labor with Nyx all over again. Rhys shot up immediately, wrapping me in his arms, reassuring me through the bond and showing me joyful images of our son, alive and well. Our bedroom door flung open seconds later and Azriel, Mor and Cassian stood in the doorway, eyes wide. Red and blue siphons shone in the dark of our bedroom.
I had clung to Rhys, silent tears rolling from my face into the crook of his neck. He quickly assured them in their minds that everything was fine and Nyx was safe, and they retreated without a word. Elain had quietly grabbed Nyx from the nursery, and brought him to us. I clung to him, vowing to never let go.
The following morning at breakfast, Amren passed me a cup of tea wordlessly. I felt such guilt and shame at my outburst the night prior. I felt raw, exposed. Similarly to when I had first come to the Night Court, my trauma had followed me and had become the Inner Circle’s collective problem. Everyone was quieter than usual, and I grit my teeth, announcing, “I think it is time I get back into the training ring.”
No one questioned me at the time; However, now I wish they had.
***
When Cassian finally gave me reprieve from the hellish run I was on, I stood, hands on my knees, chest heaving. Cassian and Rhys sauntered over to me, laughing amongst themselves.
“You fools better not be laughing at me,” I said, breathlessly.
Rhys smiled at me widely. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Cassian winked.
“How is Nyx doing with Mor?”
“He’s fine. Napping.”
I relaxed slightly, the tension in my shoulders loosening. I continued to push aside the guilt, the primal motherly instinct within me telling me I should be with my baby, not here.
Cassian grabbed my hand and dragged me into a training ring. “Let's see if you can still hit like you used to. Maybe don’t burn me today, though.”
I smiled at his reference to my first time in the ring years ago. While I might have been surprisingly good back then, today I struggled as I threw punches at Cassian’s pads, often hitting off center or sometimes missing entirely. With every hit, I remembered the way training would bring every emotion to the surface. How healing it could be. Why it had been so beneficial for Nesta. But now, all I felt was the pain in my muscles and my bones, distracting me from the exercises at hand.
Cassian or Rhys, who were both watching the others and I as we trained, would frequently interrupt me to correct my form - pick up your elbow, tighten your core, move your shoulder like so. I grumbled with each correction, embarrassment and exhaustion increasing with every one.
Finally, I felt my muscle memory kick in, and I began hitting with more confidence and power. I was in pain, and sweating a great deal - Gods it was hot - but I was back in the ring. I could do this. My baby was fine, and I was fine and I finally felt like myself again. Not just a mother, and not just a High Lady. All of those things together. Me.
“Good, there you go. It’s like you never missed a day.” Cassian's voice cut through the fog in my mind as I continued to hit his pads and grit my teeth.
His comment seemed to break my focus. Sweat coated my brow, my hair clinging wetly to the nape of my neck. My breasts felt full and swollen against the tight fighting leathers - when was the last time Nyx ate? I missed again, and a growl of frustration escaped my lips.
“Need some water?” Cassian asked.
I shook my head and resumed hitting the pads. “No”, I grunted.
Seconds later, I hear a loud, familiar wail cut through the din of the training ring. I dropped my hands, cursing. At the glass doors stood Mor, holding my screaming son, his face red and scrunched.
My friend looked at me, apologetically. “I’m so sorry Feyre - I really tried to keep him happy but he’s hungry”.
I sighed and walked towards them, kicking a rock as I did so. It had skittered away on the stone, the sound echoing. I noticed Cassian ushering the priestesses over to the other side of the ring. As if he knew how close to breaking down I actually was. This only made my frustration flare hotter in my mind, and I had to take slow breaths to cool the fire that hummed beneath my fingertips as I gingerly took Nyx from Mor.
Rhys stood beside me, his hand on the small of my back. Nyx continued to scream and I propped him on my hip, bouncing in hopes of quieting him for a moment while I worked at a way to pry my leathers up to feed him. Rhys’ hands were on me, gentle, helping - but I shook them off.
Mor had stepped aside, eyes wide. I was sure she was making a silent commission to never have children, to never bring this chaos, this weakness into her life.
A warm dampness began to bloom on my chest.
“Fuck,” I shouted, throwing my free hand up in exasperation. “I’m leaking on my new leathers.”
The tears I had been trying to hold back sprang to my eyes and flowed freely, hot and fast. I walked to the wall and leaned against it, still holding Nyx, slowly lowering myself to a seated position on the ground. We cried in unison, and I clutched him against me tightly.
“Feyre,” Rhys’ hand was gentle and warm on my shoulder. I heaved a trembling breath and inhaled his familiar, comforting scent. Darkness rippled off of him towards me, and I was thankful for the peace it brought me. “Let me help”.
He waved his hand and the top of my fighting leathers disappeared. I brought Nyx to my breast and he quieted immediately, beginning to finally feed. I looked at him through my tears, smiling weakly at the sweet sounds he made as he drank deeply, greedily. His small hand reached up, coming to rest on my chest.
A sob of both distress and overwhelming love escaped me.
Rhys sat next to me, wings flared as to shield me from the others in the ring. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kissed my wet cheek.
“Feyre, what is going on?”
“I can’t do this,” I replied, and angrily scrubbed the tears off my face. “I can’t be a warrior, much less a High Lady, and a mother. I’m weak and untrained, my body made more for child rearing than fighting. My breasts are always fucking leaking all over everything. I’m distracted. Every minor inconvenience sets me into seemingly endless crying.”
“Darling, no one expects you to immediately go back to where you were before pregnancy. We all know it takes time to get back to where you were, and that is okay. We have all had times of rest and healing and come back weak and tired. I promised to keep you as my equal - that doesn’t stop now. You can do what you want, whether it be training, attending meetings, paperwork. Hell, even battle, if that’s what you want. As long as you let me help shoulder some of your burden as well”.
I sniffled, closing my eyes as I felt the beginnings of a headache bloom behind my swollen eyes. The tears had stopped. Nyx took a break from suckling for a moment, and I used the opportunity to switch him to my other breast. He always had a strong preference for my right side, so he began to fuss and cry a bit before giving in and latching.
“I’m exhausted, Rhys.”
“I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “Maybe it’s time we take Madja up on that offer of that breast pump. That way I can help with feeds at night or while you train. Of course,” he continued, gesturing widely at the smattering of fae milling about the training ring, our found family included, “Anyone would be happy to spend some time with dear Nyx so that their High Lady can maintain her sanity.”
At that, I glared at him through my teary eyes, and I watched him silently balk, wishing he could take back the small jab. Nesta came over, quietly setting a small plate of cheese and crackers and a glass of ice water beside me. I glanced up at her, silent thanks in my eyes.
“Not that you’re insane, darling,” Rhys continued. “Not at all. That was a poor joke on my end, really. But I do hate to see you so distraught. When you became High Lady, I watched you take on the role, the burden that comes along with the power effortlessly. When you became a mother, you filled my heart, completed my life in a way I didn’t think was possible. Seeing you raise my son has been an absolute gift . Never once did I doubt your capability, both as a mother and as my High Lady. It is okay to feel tired and strung out - you are doing remarkably well.”
I breathed a deep sigh. “I don’t know, Rhys. When I am with him, I want to be training, fighting, in meetings. When I am here, all I can think about is him. I don’t know how to remedy all this. I know you want to help, but a silly pump won’t fix all this.”
He tucked a stray hair behind my ear. In my arms, Nyx had stopped feeding and fallen asleep, his lips still slightly puckered around my nipple. I looked up at Rhys and his violet eyes were filled with such tenderness and love that I was forced to fight back tears yet again.
“I know, love. But it won’t hurt. Please let us help.”
I simply nodded, feeling somewhat resigned but knowing he was right.
Nesta and Mor returned, this time with a cotton t-shirt and bra. “We’re working on the leathers, so this will have to do for now,” Mor said.
I laughed, looking up at them with a watery smile. “Honestly, I might prefer things this way for now. Especially with this little man’s ravenous appetite.”
Nesta crouched down beside me and pressed a kiss to Nyx’s head. “Feyre…I know you hardly knew Mother, and that she wasn’t always caring or present for you. But, please know you are doing a wonderful job with Nyx, despite the poor example that was set for you. You are doing something none of us have done, or even fully understand. It is okay to have hard days, and to struggle. We are here to support you, and when I have children of my own one day…I will follow the precedent you are setting”.
I swallowed, emotion thick in my throat. I met Nesta’s eyes and gave her a small smile, unable to verbalize how much her words had meant to me.
Beside me, Rhys had begun to wrap his shoulders and chest with a length of stretchy fabric. I passed a still sleeping Nyx to him, and he eased our son into the sling now fashioned to his chest. I smiled up at him, and he grinned back.
“I could get used to training like this.”
I stood, dressing. “I could, too”. I pressed a kiss to Rhys’ cheek, and then to Nyx’s brow. I then jogged back to Cassian - awaiting my next challenge for the day.
***
Later that night, I lounged in bed, wrapped in a knit blanket. A machine whirred at my breasts, pumping several ounces of milk out for Nyx’s night feeds. Rhys held our son beside me, reading to him quietly. My heart swelled with joy, and I could feel the beginnings of that familiar Day Court glow.
“Love, are you sure you are okay with taking over Nyx’s feeds for the night?”
He looked up from the novel, and grinned. “I’ve never been more sure, Feyre Darling.”
I shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when he wakes at three in the morning.”
I removed the pump and set two very full bottles of milk out on the bedside table - quickly using a pen to label them with the time. Rhys waved his hand and they were whisked away on a curl of dark air, probably to be chilled somewhere in the kitchen.
Smiling, I curled deeper into the bed with a yawn. “He should take one of those bottles before bed, but make sure it is nice and warm for him. And when you put him down, make sure he has his pacifier. Maybe warm the crib beforehand, too. And turn on the symphonia Nesta and Cass got him, you know the one on his dresser? He likes the ocean sounds, or that one song-”
Rhys held up his hand, giving me a reassuring smile. “I got it, Love. Rest.”
I simply closed my eyes, and fell asleep to my lovely mate’s voice as he continued to read to our son. Maybe the help wasn’t so bad after all.