Chapter Text
Being the only child of the renowned curse-breaker and her mate, the High Lord of the Night Court -also called the ‘most powerful High Lord ever known’ -put a lot of pressure on Nyx’s shoulders, over the years, and guaranteed him a life filled with paperwork, diplomacy, and trying to exceed people’s expectations of him. Of course, his reputation -and his family’s protectiveness towards him -also meant his freedom was restricted. It, nonetheless, had its perks, mainly with the swooning females that would try getting his -and his cousins’ -attention.
In his fifty-six years of life, he indulged himself in many forms of pleasure to release his body and soul from all the stress of the responsibilities he felt weighing on him. Sometimes, it was by painting, other times by training and fighting, but most times, it was by bedding females. He also chose one of two options, when he fucked them: Either he slept with multiple females at once, or he shared one with his friends and cousins. Both ways allowed him to find the release he was looking for and prevented females from feeling that he would let them close enough to bring them into his bed and fall for them enough they’d be introduced to the inner Circle of the Dream Court.
A groan reached his ears, bringing him back to reality. He glanced towards the owner of the voice -Caliban -who began slamming his hips faster against the female’s backside, as he fucked her ass.
Caliban was an Illyrian Nyx had met when he first started training in Devlon’s camp. He was a bastard who had been abandoned there as a toddler. Rhysand took a liking for the youngling and decided to bring him into their family and soon, he grew to become Nyx’s adoptive brother. Cal was a calm, observant, silent, strong, and tall male. He had dark hair and silver eyes that always shone with mischief. His nose was crooked from when he had broken it during a fight, where he had helped Nyx kick the asses of four other Illyrian trainees. His dark wings were wide, with talons on their top. He wore seven blue Siphons to help him control his Illyrian abilities.
The female -Bethany -moaned, her pussy deliciously clenching around both Nyx’s and Orion’s cocks that were lodged deep within her, making them growl in response.
Orion was Nesta’s and Cassian’s adopted son. He -along with his biological younger sister, Elara -were Illyrians, as well. Their mother had died giving birth to Elara, so she hadn’t been there to protect her children from her husband’s abuse. When Elara was barely three and Orion twelve, their father tried to Clip Elara’s wings -despite the action having been forbidden years ago by the High Lord -before she could even learn to fly on her own, to ‘ spare her from missing them ’. Orion had found him, knife in hand, readying himself to cut the tendons of her wings, as he came back to their hut from training. Immediately, Orion fought off his father and ended up killing him in the process. When Cassian -who had been visiting the Camp that day -heard the commotion, he dropped by their cabin, only to find the boy covered in his father’s blood. When Orion explained what had happened, Cassian decided to bring the children with him and it didn’t take long for him and Nesta to fall in love with them and decide to adopt them as their own. It had always been their plan to adopt children and not have any themselves. After Feyre’s ordeal during her difficult pregnancy with Nyx, they weren’t ready to risk both Nesta and their baby’s life, even if the chances of it having wings were low. Like the General Commander, Orion had rugish looks, with his shoulder-long black hair and dark brown eyes. He always wore a smirk on his lips.
Altair grabbed the female’s blond hair and pushed her head further down on his long shaft, forcing her to swallow more of him. He let out a deep moan.
Altair was the son of Lucien Vanserra -the Nigth Court’s emissary and contact with the Spring Court -and of Nyx’s aunt, Elain Archeron. He could only be described as beautiful, with his fair skin, gentle hazel eyes, and long silky auburn hair. Despite his kind looks, he had his father’s witty and sharp tongue.
Nyx slipped a hand between Bethany’s legs and began teasing her clit. The female let out a strangled moan, her pussy tightening even more as she was quickly approaching her release. The males around her all groaned, their movements becoming even more erratic. Her cunt spasmed around Nyx and Orion as she climaxed. Soon, the four males buried themselves into her -mouth, pussy ass -and growled as they emptied themselves. Their movements slowed as they rode out their release. It wasn’t long before the four rolled away from the female, trying to control their breathing. Nyx got up from the hotel bed they had reserved for this particular occasion and went to the bathroom to get a wet cleaning cloth. He used it to clean the female, as he did with all the females he had fucked before.
Bethany was a beautiful female. Her long and thick golden locks were wet with sweat. It formed a messy halo around her head. She had fair skin and striking honey eyes that’d make any male melt for her. The usually immaculate red she applied on her lips was smudged from all the kissing and cock-sucking she had done. Nyx knew, however, that under these good looks, she had a shitty personality. The young lord and his friends knew the female since they had been children, as she was the daughter of one of Keir’s prominent supporters, back in Hewn. Her family came from money, and ever since they met as children, she had not hidden the fact that she dreamt of becoming the next High Lady of the Night Court. Nyx, however, made sure that she knew he had no intentions of bedding her any more than this one time or of marrying her.
When Nyx was done cleaning her up, he rose to his feet and began hunting for his clothes around the rented room. He stopped in his tracks when Bethany’s hand wrapped around his wrist and forced him back down on the bed. She sat on his lap, while his friends started hunting for their own clothes.
“Stay with me, tonight,” she whispered in his pointed ear, her hips moving sensuously against his while her hand slipped between his legs, allowing her to fumble him. He immediately grabbed her wrist to stop her, his blue eyes turning cold as they bore into her warm honeyed ones.
“Not interested. It was a one-time thing and it won’t happen again. Ever.” he told her sharply, before setting her back on the bed. His friends were already dressed and waiting for him by the room’s door. He quickly slipped his clothes and turned towards Bethany. “The room is rented for the night, so do what you want with it.” He told her before the four males left the female and winnowed back to the townhouse.
Nyx crashed into his bed. He was exhausted. Between his duties as heir to the High Lord of the Night Court, his training, the partying, and the fucking, his body and mind had a hard time keeping up with him.
He glanced at his clock. It indicated two in the morning. He was just in time to see the little girl haunting his dreams for the past three years. Well, perhaps haunting was not the word for it. When he put it that way, he sounded like a pedophile, which, to be clear, he was not! It's just that for some reason she visited him in his dreams. At first, he thought that his subconsciousness had made her up, only to find out -through hard-earned dialogues -that she was a real child living in Prythian. So, he started to believe that these dreams might have been her powers awakening -though he wasn't sure why he was the one whose dreams she invaded -but it was also possible that this was a trick to have him lower his guard and give up some information about his Court.
Nyx lay down on his back and closed his eyes, letting sleep take over. When he had first arrived in this world of dreams, he had found the little youngling sitting in a ball. Her small arms were clutching a black bat plushie while she was sobbing her pretty green eyes out. Through some miracle, he managed to calm her down and even got her to giggle by the end of the dream.
The following night, he had found her standing, her little plushie still in her arms while she twirled her dark brown locks around her index finger and sucked her thumb. He had managed to gather from her childish banter that she was the three-year-old daughter of a Lord in Spring.
On the third night, they found out they could create anything in this world as long as they imagined it. So together they built a cottage, in a spring-like field of red roses surrounded by mountains that resembled the Illyrian Mountains. She loved stargazing, so they willed this world to be perpetually deep in the night, the stars and the moon always visible for them to watch and for him to teach her the constellations. When she had learned how to swim, they had added a small lake for her to enjoy and practice, under his careful gaze.
Rose was the name she had given him. And she called him Batmale -because he was a male with bat wings, or so she explained. As time passed, Nyx grew to appreciate the carefree moments he passed in this little paradise they had built together, though sometimes -when the days were hard -he did not show up.
And, as they had learned throughout their shared moments, the only way for them to reach their little piece of paradise was to wish to come there. If one of them did not want to go, then their shared dreamscape would be closed off to both of them. He could still recall the day he had found out about this titbit of information. He had had a very bad week. His mood, in turn, had been dark and murderous. Refusing to have Rose see him in that state and stain her innocence with his darkness, he had wished to stay away from her. When he came back the week that had followed, he had found her tired and her usually bubbly self closed off. Her emerald eyes had been red from her crying, and she had refused to talk to him. He had had to coax her back into trusting him. That had taken another seven nights. That's when she told him what had happened during his absence. Because he did not want to come to their world, whenever she fell asleep she had been forced to roam in eternal emptiness, dark creatures trying to get her, one even threatening to devour her. Heartbroken, he had made the unthinkable for her: he made a deal, promising her to never refuse to come. That way, whenever she wanted to see him, she would be able to, and if for some reason she did not want to go to the cottage, she could, no questions asked. This assured him -and her -that she’d always have a safe place to return to, at night. And since she wanted to give him something in return, this bargain also ensured that she would not be allowed to lie to him in this realm of theirs. From this bargain, a matching tattoo appeared on each of their spines. It was of a climbing rose with thorns twirling around a dragon’s tail. This black inked beast had wings similar to Nyx's and its horned head leaned towards the blooming blossom. The dragon's head would have been touching the blossom if it weren't for the full moon with a dark star drawn between them. Somehow, the artist in him liked it. It was a perfect depiction of their shared dreamscape and therefore of their two courts.
“Batmale!” Rose's joyous squeal snapped him out of his thoughts. As usual, she was standing in front of him surrounded by the red roses, in a little nightgown, her small feet bare, and her chubby and freckled cheeks flushed in excitement. Her dark hair was, as always, tied into two small braided pigtails. This time, however, she wore a pair of seeing glasses in front of her striking eyes. It was uncommon for Faes to wear specs, so this surprised him a bit.
“What is that?” the little six-year-old asked, pointing right at him. He glanced back at his wings before raising a black eyebrow at her. Ever since they had met, she had some childish fascination with his wings, which was probably normal for a youngling who had never seen an Illyrian before him.
“My wings,” he replied, though it sounded more like a question than an answer.
“No silly!” she giggled, “not the wings, but the elephant head.” Now, his confusion was only growing.
“What elephant head?” he asked, though something in his gut told him that he would regret indulging her curiosity, as he often did.
“The elephant head in front of your hush-hush area!” she said, her finger pointing back at him, her eyes fixed on his crotch area.
It was only when he glanced down that he realized something he hadn't in the last three years coming to this place: they only appeared in the clothes they wore falling asleep. And tonight, he had chosen to sleep naked -for more comfort and freshness but mainly out of laziness -a decision he was now regretting.
“I -uh… I -what?” he didn't know what to say -couldn't say anything! After all, what could he tell her? She wasn't his daughter/sister/cousin, so it wasn't his job to explain the difference between male and female genitals. Plus, if he did somehow find the courage to start this explanation, he was willing to bet Durendal -his mighty sword -that she would then ask what genitals were and what were their uses -as she often did during these moments -and that would lead to him mentioning the making of babies, which would then bring up the subject of sexual interaction. And in all honesty, the idea of having the sex talk -with a six-year-old who wasn't even his child, no less -did not appeal to him. So instead, he went with the second method: distraction.
“How long have you had glasses?” he asked, nodding in her direction to accentuate his question.
She gave him a somewhat startled look -probably not expecting the question -before quickly regaining her composure and sliding the specs down her nose to take them off. He took this lapse in her concentration to make a pair of Illyrian leathered pants appear. He was slipping it up his legs when she looked up at him, smiling.
“I've had them for almost a year! The healer said that I had some vision loss, probably from reading too much in dark places,” she explained. He often forgot how young she was, with the way she spoke and held herself. She was probably far ahead of her peers in that aspect.
“I haven't seen you with them, until today.” he zipped the pants in place before letting his blue eyes land on her small figure. She was still smiling up at him while she set the pair of eyewear back on her nose.
“I think I fell asleep on my book.” she shrugged. He smiled. This child was already a bookworm. If she continued this way, she'd end up even worse than his book-loving aunt Nesta and would turn into a fucking hoarding book dragon. He already felt sorry for whoever her mate would turn out to be.
“So, how was your day?” he asked as he approached her. Her smile fell and her whole demeanor changed. He frowned. She looked down at her little toes and shyly wiggled them before shrugging, her gaze avoiding his. “What happened, little Rose?” he insisted on knowing.
Her head whipped back up at the sudden dark and deep tone of his voice. She squirmed a bit under his sharp eyes. Rose was a kind and smart youngling who never shied away from asking questions. Her lack of self-confidence, sometimes, surprised him and reminded Nyx just how fragile she could be. Seeing this bundle of joy suddenly become this self-conscious frustrated him. She was a child. She should have been allowed to play with her friends -not that she seemed to have many, if at all -and to enjoy life. Childhood was a time of growth, a time where mistakes were easily forgiven and lessons hard learned.
“Am I useless?” she asked suddenly, her voice was so low and gentle he almost didn’t hear her.
He blinked once. He blinked twice. And then his mind snapped!
“What do you mean useless?” he could feel his body tense up and his hands ball into fists. He was mad. He knew he had to rein in the anger to avoid frightening her, but Cauldron almighty was it hard! After all, he felt such an overwhelming sense of protectiveness towards this child he’d not hesitate to destroy anyone or anything that threatened to harm her in anyway.
“Am I useless?” she repeated, a little louder. Her squirming intensified and her eyes still refused to look back at him. Instead, she had gone back to gazing at her feet.
“Why do you ask this?” He crouched down to her level and made sure to remember to breathe and not snap at her before he laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Did someone tell you, you were useless?” he tried to coax the answer out of her, hoping to understand what had happened.
Her gaze quickly met his before looking back down to her feet and she bobbed her head.
“Who?” He needed to know who he was going to hunt down and kill the next time he came with his family to visit the Spring Court -not that it had happened much in his fifty-six years of life.
“Lady Jessica,” she mumbled back, her green eyes going back up to his face. This time, she held his gaze, which he made sure to keep as gentle as possible. From this distance, he could see the beautiful specks of gold in her green eyes. It reminded him of sun rays passing through the thick green forest leaves during Spring when the sun was rising.
It wasn’t the first time he had heard of this Lady Jessica . This ornery old bitch -because there was no other way to describe someone like her that was willing to degrade a child for her pleasure -had been hired by Rose’s parents to teach the girl everything a Lady ought to know to blend in perfectly in High Fae society and to manage a household: Literature, philosophy, democracy, mathematics, dancing, diplomacy, manners, and so on. Being the second daughter of the captain of the Spring Court’s forces and the older sister of Tamlin’s mate, she thought herself untouchable and allowed herself to do things that would have been otherwise punished. She seemed to be as much a power-hungry bitch as her older sister, Ianthe, had been, at least according to his parents’ stories. Why Rose’s parents trusted her with the girl’s education was beyond him, but he couldn’t judge them. It seemed that they both held very important roles within the Court -though she never specified which -and between their respective duties they were not very present parents. Nevertheless, they seemed to be caring towards their children, by the way, Rose affectionately talked about them.
“What the hell did she tell you?” He nearly growled.
“She said that I was useless to my parents because I was female and they had a son to inherit my father. She said that all I was good for was to spread my legs and have babies.” the last part sounded more like a question. “What does spreading my legs mean, exactly? I don't understand,” she added, confusion written all over her face.
Inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth. Nyx mentally repeated this mantra, a smile still plastered on his face as he was trying not to let his bad temper take over. He didn’t want to scare his little Rose, after all.
What kind of twisted person told a child that?
“It means…” he began but abruptly stopped. How the fuck did he end up right back where he started? Again, he was not having the talk with her. “It means that you'll find out when you're older,” he told her when he saw her carefully watching him, patiently waiting to see what he'd say. She pouted, obviously unsatisfied with his answer.
“You say that a lot.” his lips twitched.
“When have I ever -?” he exclaimed in faux innocence. She raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed by his theatrics.
“When I asked you if we could get married, you told me that we'd talk about it when I'm older. When I asked you if you could teach me to fight, you said to me you'd do it in a few years.” she shot back, standing with her hands on her hips like a scolding mother. It was always comical to see her like this.
“That was two times!” He laughed back.
“Well, now it's three!” she threw her hands up, sounding outraged.
“You're being dramatic,” Nyx told her laughter was very much present in his voice, and his previous anger had dissolved.
Instead of saying anything witty back at him, as she tended to do, she opened her arms up towards him. It was her way of silently demanding that he carry her. And what kind of gentleman would he be if he ignored such a request from a noble lady like herself? So, he obliged and wrapped his strong arms around her little form before lifting her.
“Don't listen to this Lady Jessica. She doesn't know what she's saying.” The six-year-old pushed herself a bit on his chest to look him straight in the eyes, giving him a skeptical look.
“She is my tutor.” she simply said.
“Doesn't make her right,” he explained. “You can be all-knowing and still get it wrong.” he insisted at the skeptical look she sent him.
“Is she? Wrong, I mean.”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “You aren't useless. You’re pretty and smart, and your parents and brother seem to care deeply about you and would probably be saddened if you thought of yourself that way. I know I am.” she patted his cheek gently.
“I don't want you to be sad,” she told him. He rewarded her with a kind smile and a gentle smack on her little pinched, freckled nose making her giggle.
“And you can be whatever you want. Being a female or a male doesn't have anything to do with your capabilities.” her face, which had previously taken a grim look, now shined in delight.
“Can I become a warrior? A legendary hero?” she asked excitedly.
“Yes! My aunt is a Valkyrie, so why not you?”
“A Wal-, Val-, Valerie?” she tried her tongue struggling with the new word.
“Valkyrie. V-A-L-K-Y-R-I-E” He spelled for her, as he did with any new word she learned with him. “Valkyries are female warriors, back in my home in Night. They used to be only Illyrians, but now female Faes of all species are joining their ranks. You could be one of them.” Rose clapped her hands, letting a squeal of happiness out.
“I want to be one! I could be a better warrior than my brother! I’m already taller and more mature.” she stated, nodding her head as she pushed her glasses -which had slipped down her pinched nose -back up.
“How do you figure?” Nyx asked curiously, his grey-blue eyes twinkling in amusement as he walked them through the flowery path, under the eternal night sky, towards their wooden shed.
“I’m taller than he is. It’s a fact, Mommy measured us this morning.” she pulled on her bottom lip to reveal a missing front tooth. “And I lost my first baby so that means that I’m more mature than he is. That is also a fact.” Nyx stopped in front of the wooden door and blinked down at her a few times before throwing his head back in laughter.
“I’m not sure that this is how it works.”
“It is,” she assured him.
“Well, If you say so then it must be so.” He opened the door before stepping into the softly lighted entrance hall. He walked them in until he reached the living area.
It was a huge room with a fireplace where an eternal fire burned. In front of it, there was a rounded, dragon-shaped sofa that could comfortably fit two people. Beside it, there was a wooden stool. In front of the stool, there was an easel. On one side of the wall, there was a desk with painting and drawing materials that Nyx used. On the other side, there were tall bookshelves with a rolling ladder, explicitly imagined for Rose’s fondness of books. The walls of the Cottage and its wooden furniture were painted by the Illyrian male and represented both his Night court and the Spring Court, with Stars, Moon, Roses, and flowers of all kinds.
When the black-haired Illyrian set the youngling down on the sofa, she immediately jumped onto her feet and bounced on its soft mattress.
“Batmale, paint something for me!” she ordered. He smirked, grabbing his painting supplies and setting them beside his stool.
By the time they had to say their goodbyes, their cottage had a new painting: one of a little dark brown-haired girl, glasses in front of her twinkling emerald and golden eyes, her pinched nose, and pink cheeks dusted in freckles. She was dressed in black Illyrian leather, with a silver arc in one hand, and a quiver filled with golden arrows attached to her back.