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“Mama…” Feyre immediately turned away from the painting she was working on at the small, wobbling voice from behind her. Standing in the doorway clad in dark blue pajamas covered in silver stars, clutching a plush bat was her three year old son.
“Nyxie? What are you doing up?” After a particularly stressful appearance at the Court of Nightmares that day, Feyre had decided to spend the evening hours painting. She always processed her stress better when she could paint her emotions. Still, she had made a point to read her son a bedtime story and made sure he was fast asleep before she had made her way downstairs to her art studio.
When Nyx’s bottom lip began to tremble, Feyre was quick to put down her supplies and take off her smock so she could pull her son into a hug. He whimpered as he buried his head in her chest, “M-Mama…”
Hearing his little voice so frightened and broken, pierced her soft human heart like ice. “Oh my Little Star…what’s wrong?” When he merely shook his little head, she placed a kiss atop his head, “Was it a bad dream?”
“N-No…”
Feyre was quick to pick the boy up and place him on her hip. Holding him close, she couldn’t help but think of the nights when she was his age. Scared and overly tired, her callous and cold mother had shooed her away when she’d come seeking comfort. She’d been told to ‘grow up’ or to ‘get over it and go back to bed.’
The way she had been forced to grow up too quickly made her vigilant about making sure her son wasn’t forced to do the same. When he needed his mother, she was at his side.
Walking out of the studio, she held Nyx a little closer so he would know she wasn’t going to leave him. “Let’s get you some warm milk and you can tell mama what’s wrong, okay?”
The boy looked up at her, some of the fear fading from his gaze, “Wif’ honey?”
Feyre gave him a smile, “Yes, we can put some honey in the milk.”
Nyx gave a watery smile as he nestled his head into her shoulder. The knowledge that he felt safe in her arms soothed her maternal instincts allowing her to think more clearly.
Unwilling to put her son down, warming the milk and stirring in the honey took a little longer than normal, but soon she sat at the table with Nyx in her lap. Feyre waited until he'd had a few sips and seemed calmer before speaking again.
“Feeling better Little Star?”
His eyes were still trained on his cup, but he gave a little nod.
“Do you feel good enough to tell me what happened?”
Nyx looked unsure. For a moment Feyre wondered if he had been doing something he shouldn’t have been, but there was no guilt in his gaze. Usually when she caught him trying to steal extra sweets, playing past his bedtime, or after he had broken something he had a look in his gaze that betrayed he knew he had done something he wasn’t supposed to. This time however, that look was absent. She still thought he looked like he did when he woke from a nightmare though.
“Is silly…”
Feyre gave her son a small squeeze, “If something is upsetting you, that’s not silly, Nyx. I want you to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”
He put the half-drained cup of milk back on the table, his little lip wobbling, but Feyre stayed silent, giving her son some time to think over what he wanted to tell her. “Was ‘fraid…”
“You were afraid?” Nyx gave a tiny nod, and a chill rushed through her, though she kept her voice steady, “What were you afraid of?”
“Silly…”
“If it’s bothering you, it’s not silly. I’m not going to laugh. I just want to help you not feel scared.”
Rather than responding verbally, Nyx clambered off her lap, taking her hand in his much smaller one. She followed him up the stairs and to his room, wondering what he was trying to show her. Once they were inside the nursery, Nyx pointed a shaky finger across the room.
Feyre wasn’t sure what he was looking at, on that side of the room was the door to his closet, a dresser next to it on one side, and his toy chest on the other. Taking a small step forward, Nyx stayed close to her as she summoned a small ball of faelight in her hand to see whatever it was that had spooked her son.
As soon as the light flickered into existence, she felt the tension leave his little body, and she suddenly understood what had frightened him. There was nothing in his room that he was afraid of per say. He was just scared of the dark beyond his open closet door.
Letting the light float in the air, Feyre knelt down in front of the little boy, “Nyxie, it’s okay to be afraid of the dark. Lots of people, younglings and adults are afraid of the dark.”
Nyx shook his head, but not in a way that made her think he was disagreeing with her. “‘Till silly.”
There had to be a reason he thought that, this was the third time he had said it. This time she decided to stop correcting him, and figure out why. “What makes you think it’s silly Nyx? Lots of people are scared of the dark.”
He looked puzzled for a moment. Her son was a bright child, but his linguistic skills sometimes hadn’t developed enough yet for him to voice his clever thoughts. “I not ‘upposed to be…”
“Everyone is scared of something, Nyxie.”
He shook his head in frustration. There was something he was trying to tell her, but he didn’t quite have the words. “No! I not ‘uppose to be scare’ of dark!”
“Why not Nyx? Lots of kids are.”
Huffing, he held his hands out to her letting his own fledgling magic coalesce around them.
His night magic.
The magic of darkness.
The pieces began to click into place, “Ohhh, you think because you have night magic that you shouldn’t be afraid of the dark?”
Pouting, Nyx nodded.
“Sweetie, even if you have night powers, you’re still allowed to be afraid of the dark.” He tilted his head slightly to the side, not understanding what she meant. Feyre led him over to the chair in the corner, sitting down and pulling him into her lap. “You know I have lots of powers, right?”
He beamed up at her with the pride that only a young child could truly have for a parent, “Mama have all powers!”
“That’s right Little Star!” She pressed a kiss to his cheek, earning her one of his little giggles she loved so. “Mama has the magic from every court. Can you tell me what court water magic comes from?”
“‘Ummer! Like Uncle Varian!”
“Good job!” Feyre smiled down at her son, “I have Summer magic, but guess what…”
“Wha’ mama?”
“I’m afraid of deep water.” She tried not to think of old ruins as he blinked at her and she continued, “Do you know what court fire magic comes from?”
“Adum!”
“That’s right, the Autumn Court. I have Autumn magic too, but I was still scared the day the rug almost caught on fire.”
Nyx nodded seriously. She and Rhys had used that event as a teaching moment for their son. An example of how fire could easily get out of control if they weren’t careful, and what to do if he thought there was a fire somewhere it shouldn’t be. He’d taken the lessons to heart and was always diligent around fireplaces or candles, and had no issue telling his parents if he thought a fire was growing too large or if an ember had jumped onto the rug.
Still, Feyre brought her mind back to the present, “So if I have both Summer and Autumn magic, is it silly for me to be afraid of deep water or fire?”
Nyx took on a thoughtful expression for a moment before slowly shaking his head, “No…?”
“That’s right, Little Star.” Feyre pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “Just because we have a certain type of magic doesn’t mean we aren’t allowed to be scared of it sometimes.”
Nyx looked like her when she was curious about something. It was almost enough to make her laugh, but she pressed it down, knowing Nyx would take it as her laughing at him. After a few moments he glanced back at her, “I-Is dada ‘fraid of dark?”
“I don’t know Nyxie, that’s something you’d have to ask him.” Feyre smiled softly, “He’s still awake if you want to ask him now.”
Nyx seemed nervous for a moment, but nodded all the same, so Feyre stood up, sitting him on her hip as she made her way back downstairs. In a few minutes they were standing at the door of Rhys’s study. As soon as they rounded the corner he looked up from the papers he had been reading.
He blinked momentarily at the sight of his mate holding their son despite having put him to bed hours ago. Still he smiled at them, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Nyx giggled as Rhys bowed to them from where he was still sitting in his chair. As he did so Feyre felt his consciousness brush against her mental shields. She let them down instantly and heard his voice in her mind, Is everything okay?
She smiled, Yes, Nyx came to my studio a little upset, but I think we’ve almost gotten to the bottom of it. Before he could respond, she turned to their son, “Is there something you wanted to ask daddy?”
Nyx once again looked a little nervous but held his arms out towards his father. Rhys didn’t hesitate to get to his feet, taking the boy from his mother’s arms. “Something you want to ask me, Little Star?” Nyx nodded as the three of them sat down on the sofa on the other side of the room. “What do you want to know?”
Nyx took a deep breath, “You ‘fraid of dark, dada?”
Before Feyre could share the memory of why their son was asking that with her mate, Rhys was responding, “Sometimes.”
“Even wif’ magic?”
“Even with my magic.” Rhys chuckled, “Have you ever noticed that mommy and daddy don’t have their bedroom curtains closed at night?” Nyx nodded, “It’s because I don’t like waking up in the dark. I like to be able to see the light of the stars and moon.”
Feyre knew the real reason Rhys didn’t like to wake with the curtains closed, but she supposed that in some ways that was a fear of the dark. She’d never thought of it that way before.
Nyx’s next question pulled her attention back to the conversation, “It not silly for me to be ‘fraid of dark?”
Rhys gave his son a warm smile, “Not at all, Little Star. It’s okay to be afraid sometimes.” Feyre could have wept as the last of the tension left Nyx’s body and he relaxed against his father. “Can I ask what made you scared tonight?”
Nyx pouted slightly, “Closet…”
Rhys’s brow furrowed for a moment in that same way Nyx’s had earlier before realization dawned in his gaze. “Daddy forgot to close the closet door after we cleaned up your toys, didn’t he?”
Nyx nodded slowly, “‘Cary dark…”
“Well how about this. Mommy and Daddy will take you back up to bed. We’ll read you another story, close the closet door, and leave a small faelight on for you. Would that be better?”
Nyx smiled and nodded enthusiastically, his grin spreading to his parents’ faces. This time it was Feyre who spoke as they got to their feet, “What story do you want us to read?”
Their son didn’t respond until they got to the base of the stairs, taking the question so seriously that one would have thought the fate of Prythian rested on it. “T’ree Li’l Bats!”
“I knew he was going to say that.” Rhys and Feyre shared a smirk as they said the words simultaneously.
As they got to the nursery, Feyre opened the door and took the book from the shelf, handing it to Rhys after he laid Nyx down in his bed. Whether he knows it or not yet, this story is about his father and uncles. You should be the one to read it to him. I’ll close the closet and set up the faelight.
Rhys merely smiled at her. It was a nightly battle of who would be the one to read Nyx his bedtime story. They both loved doing it, watching their son be enraptured by the tale before sleep caught up to him and he slowly drifted off. Their favorite part however was sitting with him for a few minutes to make sure he was fast asleep before they left the room. In those few minutes Nyx’s own daemati abilities would broadcast his technicolor dreams directly into their minds. It was their favorite part of bedtime. Getting to see what their son dreamt of.
Some nights it was flying through the sky with his father, day or night. Sometimes it was playing with other younglings at the painting classes he attended with his mother. Others it was the games he played with his aunts and uncles. Regardless, they always helped remind his parents that he was loved so deeply by everyone around him. That Nyx was getting the childhood they had all been deprived of to some extent or another.
Rhys tucked their son in under the covers before picking up the book as Feyre quietly closed the closet door and moved the faelight still hovering in the middle of the room to rest atop Nyx’s desk. She lowered the brightness of it, and made sure it gave off a warm homey glow before sitting down on the edge of her son’s bed next to his father.
She listened to the tale of the mischievous adventures that the ‘Three Little Bats’ got up to with increasingly worse outcomes before they were caught by their mother and sent to bed. Nyx didn’t know yet that the stories were all true.
It was a book written by his father of stories from his, Cassian, and Azriel’s childhood that Feyre herself had drawn the illustrations for after being given the memories from her mate. They sat with him as Rhys read their son the story, smiling to one another as Nyx struggled to keep his eyes open and eventually succumbed to his fatigue.
Once he was fast asleep they stayed where they were for a few minutes to see what their Little Star would dream of tonight. It wasn’t long before both of them started to receive the images, and tears welled in Feyre’s eyes. Glancing over she saw the same silver lining in Rhys’s gaze.
In his dream, it was late evening, though the area was brightly lit by the fireplace across the room. Meanwhile, Nyx was curled up on the sofa in the sitting room between his parents. Feyre had her sketchbook, though she couldn’t make out what she was drawing. Rhys had a children’s book in his hands, his mouth moving silently as he read the story to their son. Along with the images came feelings of happiness and serenity, as their son snuggled against them both.
They watched the dream for a few minutes before sharing another smile and a nod. Each of them dropped a kiss to Nyx’s forehead before silently making their way out of the nursery. If it was possible, tonight had made them love their Brightest Star even more.
*****