Answered Dreams (ACOTAR | ACOMAF | ACOWAR)

Chapter ☆ Thirty-Two

For the first time in almost a week, Feyre was beginning to feel better, if only slightly. Though feeling ill that morning, she allowed Mor to stay and she kept her company at the townhouse for a good portion of the day. She left soon after dinner time, though Feyre could only keep down a piece or two of bread without wanting to puke it back up again. Once they parted ways, Feyre made herself a cup of mint tea and settled in for the night with a book before the fire in the sitting room, the comfort of the flames warmth pairing with her sweater, leggings, and socks, making it the ideal way to end the day, all things considered...

Rhys didn't bother flying back home. He winnowed, of course. To right outside the front door of the townhouse. He was still sweaty and dirty and part of his mind was still back at the war camp. Part of him was still with his men. Even as another part of him lunged for the door and his mate beyond. It was dark by the time he got home, and he had decided while winnowing here, that it would be best to knock. He didn't want to startle either Mor, if she was still there, or Feyre to death. And he had been gone for longer than he'd ever left her before. Since he'd gotten her away from Tamlin permanently... so he knocked.

Feyre jumped at the sound. No one had knocked on that door. Putting her book down she swung her legs around and slowly stood from the couch, padding her way to the door. It was too dark to make out a figure through the frosted glass, so she opened the door to see who was visiting her..

Rhys' head snapped up as the door opened and.. there she was. Safe and sound. Mor's last letter had made it sound like there might have been something off. Something... wrong. Something tense and tightly coiled in Rhys relaxed as he saw her. "Feyre..." he breathed, her name the answer to a prayed he'd asked the gods for every day he'd been away. But there was something different about her, and at first glance, Rhys couldn't tell what it was, exactly.

"Rhys..." Rhys stood before her in the townhouse's entryway. Her mate, dirty and sweaty, but home, and in one piece. She lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him tight as her eyes burned. He was home, and safe.

Rhys' own eyes burned as she wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against him. His arms instantly came up to wrap around her, holding her close. His forehead dropping to her shoulder as he held her. "I missed you. Every day..." he breathed.

Tears came to her eyes then as she nuzzled him, holding him as close as absolutely possible, never wanting to let him go again. "I was so scared something was going to happen to you and I wouldn't know..."

"Shhh," he soothed as he rubbed small circles in her back. "I'm here, I'm okay," he said as he took in her scent, to remind himself that she was here, she was real. 

And that's when he smelled it. His eyes flew open. "Feyre," he said, pulling back slightly, his eyes going to her stomach then to her, his mouth opening and then closing. "Are you..?"

She snorted. "...sick? Yes. I've been fighting something for a week or so now. This was the first time I actually felt like not spending the whole day in bed." She looked him over and smiled. "Come on, you must be starving, and definitely in need of a bath." She took his hand to lead him back into the townhouse.

He followed her but he was still at a loss for words. Pregnant, the word rang in his ears as her scent lingered in his nose. She was carrying his child, and she was unaware. She thought she was sick. Rhys blinked, squeezing her hand.

He didn't say it, she didn't hear it, but she felt it, and it made her stopped. Everything stopped. She slowly turned to look at him over her shoulder as color drained from her already-pallid complexion. "What...?"

He knew she now knew. He licked his lips, a tear slipping down his cheek as he looked down at her. "Quite a welcome home, present," he said, a smile gracing his lips as he took another step toward her, holding her gaze.

She swallowed and felt like she was going to be sick. Again. "What?" she asked again, no more than a whisper. She felt as if the world was being torn away from underneath her and she was going to start spinning into a freefall.

He felt her unease, her.. unhappiness. His heart sank. But he took her by the shoulders. "If you don't want it... if you don't want this right now..." He brought a hand to her cheek, caressing. He'd missed the feeling of her skin. His fingers were covered with calluses from so much weapon training and fighting. Her skin was so smooth... He brought his attention back to the present, looking into her eyes, searching. Trying to figure out what she was thinking.

She blinked. Blinked again and shook her head, her eyes finally focusing on him. She ignored his assumption that this would be something she wouldn't want, wouldn't want to share with him... but she didn't know. If she counted and thought about it, perhaps, maybe she could have figured it out, but with all else going on, with Rhys away, her thoughts were elsewhere. "How did you know?"

"Your scent," he replied simply, his hand not moving from her cheek. He was completely bemused. He'd just come home to his mate to find that she was carrying his unborn child, after being away for a month planning for war. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. He should have thought of the child, of bringing another life into the world when there was so much pain and death right now. But he was selfish. He wanted this. Wanted this with her.

She let out a slightly laugh as she closed her eyes, leaning into the hand caressing her face. She was pregnant and didn't even know, and all it took was for Rhys to take in her scent. Her hand went to cover his and she looked at him again. "Is this okay? To do this now...?"

"Yes," he breathed, a knee-wobbling relief washed over him. "Yes this is okay," he said, a smile taking over his face as he took Feyre into his arms, peppering her face with kisses. From the tip of her nose, to her temples, to her cheek, her chin, her forehead, the corner of her lips...

From his reaction alone she couldn't help but smile in response, wrapping her arms back around him and giggling at his kisses. They were going to have a child together, after everything they each had endured and suffered and survived... a tear streamed down her cheek. Their future.

Rhys kissed her tear away, even as a few of his own slid from his eyes. He rested his forehead against hers. A child. They were going to have a child. "I love you," he whispered. And he did, with every bit of his immortal soul.

She rested his forehead against his and smiled through her tears. "And I love you," she promised, and swore, and meant with every bit of her heart. She placed her hands on his face and pulled back just enough to wipe the tears away with her thumbs before she pulled him down for a kiss full of such love and devotion

He savored the moment. Savored being in it with her. He's missed home. He hadn't realized it while he was at the camps, but there was always a constant ache when he was away. He distracted himself from it the best he could with whatever he could, but when he got here... It hit him like a battering ram to the chest. He smiled against her lips, at the love behind it. "How about that bath?" he mumbled against her lips, pulling her a bit closer to him.

She smiled against his lips, kissing him once more before pulling away. "Yes please- I'm surprised I didn't smell you before I opened the door."

"They always say a male's scent should precede him. Or is that reputation." His brow creased in feigned contemplation.

"Mmm... something like that." She pulled him into a kiss and smiled again. "I'll go start your bath. "

"Our bath," he corrected her, squeezing her once more before letting her go.

She scowled playfully and kissed him again. She could kiss him and never tire. And she gave him one more before she started up the stairs towards the bath

He held onto her hand until she was far enough up the stairs then her fingers slipped from his. He watched her go with a feeling of completeness he couldn't have fathomed just a few months ago. He would follow her up in a minute, he decided.

There was a smile on Feyre's face that she felt may never go away. She walked into the bathing room and sat on the edge of the bath and turned the water on, running her hand under the water to test the temperature, softly humming to herself. She didn't know that such overwhelming happiness was possible, and wondered if there would ever be room for more. 

With Rhys, anything was possible.