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areyoudreaminof · 18 days

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Just For Mama: A Mother's Day One Shot.

This one goes out to all the MILFS. Just some next gen fluff for your weekend!

Feysand: Nyx (11)

Nyx lined up the brushes on the table for the sixth time. He needed them to be perfect.

The remodeled art studio certainly was perfect. He and Papa planned it for months, and Nyx drew up the plans himself. The north wall was torn down, making way for a large bay window that would let in natural sunlight from dawn to dusk with a perfect view of the mountains. Little crystal ornaments were clipped onto the windowsill, throwing prisms of rainbow light all over the room that had been painted a warm cream color. Nyx had written to Cricket and Froggy to send them from the Day Court. His cousins had sent back an array of colored crystal charms, with one large lilac colored crystal bat. Nyx hung that one right in the middle of the room.

Mama didn’t exactly need a new studio, but Nyx had wanted to do something special for Mother’s Day. It was technically a Day Court celebration, but his cousins were shocked that they didn’t celebrate it in the Night Court. “You don’t do anything for Mother’s Day?” Cricket had said with wide eyes a few years back, “At all?” But Nyx had been so taken with the idea, he went right to Papa, who agreed. So, Nyx had been doing small things for his mother every year on that spring day. Mama loved every single card he made and kept all the wooden figurines he had carved for her on her desk.

But this year, Nyx wanted to do something bigger. Aunt Nesta had given him the idea last winter, pointing out that Mama’s regular studio faced the east, which didn’t get the best lighting from the afternoon onwards. It was why she painted in the mornings. He had drawn up his sketches that very night and brought them to Papa the next morning who had the builders in his office by the early afternoon.

Papa had simply told Mama there was a plumbing problem and that the studio needed to be rebuilt. Mama bought it, though Nyx suspected she knew something was up. Nyx had presented his plans to the builder, a large green skinned orc named Neekar. “Measurements are only an inch off. I take on apprentices at twelve,” the orc grunted with satisfaction, “You can study when you come back from that camp of yours.” Papa just sighed and Nyx beamed with pride.

Nyx came to the site every single day after lessons to work on the studio. He sanded and stained small beams of wood, he hammered nails and fetched tools. Nyx watched Neekar in his team in awe as they sawed and whittled away, explaining their technique as Nyx jotted down notes.

Now, the day had finally come to bring Mama to the new studio. He gave one last look around, before he launched himself out of the room, stretching his wings in such a way to give him more momentum as he came face to face with his father and blindfolded mother.

“Is that you Nyx?” she reached for him, stretching her fingers out. Nyx laced his own through them. “It’s me. Happy Mother’s Day.”

“Anyone want to explain what’s going on?” Mama inquired with a tilt of her head as she pulled Nyx to her. He was nearly as tall as she was now, the top of his head sitting just below her chin.

“Nyx has a surprise for you, darling,” Papa said, his violet eyes glinting with mischief, “Lead the way, son.”

Nyx nodded, slowly leading Mama across the hall and stopping at the door. “You can take your blindfold off now.” he said, as he wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and opened the door.

Mama removed the blindfold with her slender tattooed fingers. Her blue eyes crinkled in joy as she saw Nyx in front of her. He just hoped she didn't see him shaking as he took her by the hand again and led her into the studio.

Mama gasped behind him and Nyx sighed in relief. Sunlight poured through the windows and filtered through the hanging crystals in cracks of multicolored light. New canvases had been stretched and propped up on easels, while clean brushes and wooden palettes sat ready to be used.

Mama turned around, stunned at the new studio. “Did you do this for me?” Mama asked in wonder, her eyes round and her mouth agape.

“I drew the plans and Papa helped.” Nyx replied bashfully, leading Mama to the frame that held the sketches he had done in the dead of night. Mama touched the glass with tears in her eyes.

“I just called the builders,” Papa corrected, “Nyx was in here every day after his lessons doing something. He made this room all on his own.”

“The master builder said he could take me on as an apprentice next year,” Nyx blurted but Mama cut him off as she pulled him in for a bone crushing hug. He wrapped his arms around her then, closing his eyes as she rocked him ever so gently. At the camps, some of the other boys gave him hell over his mother; that she was High Lady, that she was human once, that Nyx loved her so much. One of the first drag out brawls he had gotten into was with a particularly snide boy back at Windhaven who insulted her. Nyx split the boy's lip and broke his nose.

“I love you, sweet boy.” Mama whispered in his ear, before kissing him on the forehead.

“Love you too, Mama. Happy Mother’s Day” Nyx murmured against her neck, squeezing her harder.

Mama pulled away as she cupped his face in her hands. “An architect’s apprentice at twelve? I think you might be the most accomplished heir the Night Court has seen.” Her blue eyes twinkled as she laughed.

“I can’t argue with that,” Papa sighed as Nyx felt his cheeks and neck go red. “You can build yourself a house up at Windhaven.”

“I might,” Nyx grumbled, “and my sofas won’t have dried barf on them.”

“And that my darling, is how you’re going to unite Illyria, ” Mama teased, “With your talent, wisdom and cleanliness.”

Papa drew them both into his arms, “If Nyx can pull this off on one of Helion’s made up holidays, I’d hate to see what he has up his sleeve for Solstice.”

“Just you wait,” Nyx smirked, “I might add a whole new wing to the house.”

______________________________________________________________________________

That night, Feyre watched the moon rise in the windows of her new studio, stars and galaxies blinked in the moonlight that washed across the peaks of the mountains. Feyre stroked the slabs of wood on the windowsill. Nyx created this, she thought with wonder and pride, he built this with his own hands.

He did, he had the idea months ago. Rhys said in her mind as his arms snaked around her waist from behind.

Feyre rested her head back on Rhys's chest, "We've done alright by him, I think."

Rhys hummed in agreement as he turned her to face him, "We really did."

Elucien: Cricket (9), Froggy (5)

It was times like this where Cricket wished she had gotten fire powers.

She could technically turn the stove on by herself, she was nine , but she always had to have someone help her in the kitchen, since the stove had to be lit with a match and she was too short to not have to stand on a chair. “Supervision.” Papa called it. That’s why he was here, over her shoulder, watching Cricket stir the porridge in the small pot.

“Perfect,” Papa murmured, “let’s add the cinnamon shall we?”

Cricket sprinkled the small shaker of cinnamon sugar over the porridge, taking care not to put too much. Even though Mama ate her porridge sweet, there were still strawberries and blueberries to add, and there was warm raisin bread that her little sister was buttering on the table.

The soft pink light of dawn and the sea breeze filtered into the kitchen. It was Mother’s Day in the Day Court, a celebration of motherhood. Grandfather swore they had always celebrated it, but Papa told Cricket that it only became a holiday when Grandmother came to live at court. Either way, Cricket and Froggy had brought Mama breakfast in bed for as long as they could remember. They’d spend the day at the beach, then have a big dinner with Grandfather and Grandmother on the balcony under the stars.

“I think the porridge is done.” Cricket announced. With a wave of his hand, Papa put out the flame on the stove. Mama was still asleep, unusual, since she liked to get up with the sun. But there was some sort of party last night, and they got home late, so Grandmother stayed with them, since she didn’t like late parties. Cricket vaguely remembered a kiss on the forehead when she was dead asleep.

“What time did you get home?” Cricket asked.

“Too late,” Papa replied, “Grandfather got into some sort of dance competition with some of the scholars, it was absolutely horrifying, but we couldn’t take our eyes off of it.”

“Did he win?” Cricket tried to picture Grandfather dancing inside a circle with the scholars.

“No, the astronomers beat him.” Cricket snorted and swallowed her belly laugh.

“Leave it to cool while we cut the berries,” Papa whispered, “Everything alright, Froggy.?”

“Yes.” Froggy answered softly as she set down the butter knife. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, pushing her golden hair back from her face. “I haven't filled the vase with water yet.”

“Let me do that,” Papa said as he kissed each of them. He took the crystal vase to the sink, filling it with water. Quickly, the girls gathered up the large bouquet of orange and apple blossoms they had picked yesterday. They had raced in the groves to see who could get the most flowers, scaling each tree like monkeys. Cricket had won, but just barely. A bowl of ripe oranges and apples sat on the table, another present for Mama.

Froggy put the absurdly large bouquet into the vase, while Cricket arranged the last bits of fruit into the large porridge bowl. Papa set down a small velvet box on the tray, the sisters giggled as they caught each other's eye. Papa lifted the tray and the girls held back their giggles as they entered Mama and Papa’s room.

Mama slept soundly, her curly hair braided across the silk pillowcase. Cricket opened the curtains, letting the now golden dawn light brighten the room. Froggy crawled gently on the bed, while Cricket flopped down face first.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” they squealed as Mama opened her eyes and arms. The girls scurried into her embrace, latching on and kissing her face all over. Mama just laughed and kissed them back. Papa set the tray down across Mama’s lap and stole his own kiss as Cricket and Froggy snuggled on each side of her. She touched the white and pink blooms with awe.

“Oh, how beautiful! Did you girls pick these yourselves?”

“Yep,” Cricket nodded, “we picked lots of fruit too.”

“We can make orange juice and apple pie!” Froggy added breathlessly.

“Maybe we can make some juice for our picnic at the beach today?” Mama added.

“I’ve already got the pitchers out,” Papa laughed as he stretched out next to Cricket, wrapping his arm around her back to touch Mama’s hair.

“And what’s this?”

Cricket and Froggy shot up with excitement as Mama opened up the small velvet box. The little golden chain inside had two delicate charms that wound together; a small honeysuckle and a wisteria blossom, the flowers associated with both of them. Cricket with her wild honeysuckle scent, and Froggy, a soft and delicate wisteria fragrance. They held their breath as tears filled Mama’s eyes.

“Are you gonna put it on?” Froggy whispered nervously. Cricket swallowed her own anxiety.

“I’m never going to take it off,” Mama promised as she took out the delicate chain reverently. “Let me,” Papa said, as he rose to latch the chain around her neck.

“Thank you,” Mama breathed, kissing them both and wrapping each arm around them. “I love you both so much.”

“Love you too, Mama.” Froggy whispered. “We love you the most.” Cricket added.

Cricket and Froggy sank into her embrace, breathing in the familiar scent of honey and jasmine, of the sea breeze that wafted through the wood and sandstone room, just as it always had. They smelled the familiar scent of Papa as he managed to embrace all three of them, of the sun on their faces, or warm mornings just like this, and cool nights at home.

“I think,” Mama announced, “it is a perfect day for swimming and a picnic.”

“It certainly is,” Papa agreed, “I wonder who can get ready first?”

Cricket and Froggy squealed and scrambled off the bed as they raced for their rooms. “No winnowing, Cricket!” Froggy shrieked as her sister laughed maniacally.

Elain finally rose from the sheets and crossed the room, meeting Lucien halfway. She closed her eyes, as she embraced him, savoring the laughs of her girls across the small house they had lived in for years. The laughs that had echoed across her visions as she fought her way across a frozen wasteland and lake. Visions of red and golden hair that gave her the strength she thought she didn’t have as she destroyed a sorcerer's box and made her way back to Lucien.

Her daughter’s had been her dream once, and now they were her reality. A messy and loving reality.

She rose up on her toes, kissing her mate. “We should have a Father’s Day, I think.”

“Don’t give my father any more excuses to blow smoke up his own ass,” Lucien laughed.

“No, we’ll just blow smoke up your ass.” she leaned in again-

“Will you two stop kissing for once?” Cricket hollered from across the hallway. “You have one more minute to get ready!” Froggy shrieked from somewhere in the house.

“Ready?” Lucien asked.

“For my family, always.”

Nessian: Oriana (4)

Oriana kicked her feet and flapped her wings along as she hummed. The picture looked very good, she thought. She colored in the lines she drew, a picture of her, Mama, Papa and her poofy kitten, Pudding. She made sure to put the House in there too, Mama said it was part of the family.

“Mrow?”

She turned to Pudding, his round face was cocked with confusion. Oriana sighed as she explained the picture again.

“It’s Mother’s Day so I made Mama a book. That’s you and me, and Mama and Papa. I didn’t have green for your eyes though.”

A green colored pencil appeared on the rug next to her. “Thank you, House!” she chirped to the House, who flickered a light in reply. Quickly, she filled in the eyes of her cat in the picture, finally satisfied with the result as Pudding pawed and rolled the rest of the pencils around the floor.

“Mama is going to love your book,” Papa said, as he lowered himself down on the carpet next to her.

“I know,” Oriana replied. She had been practicing her letters and she could write very well now. She wrote Mama a book about a Valkyrie helping a nice dragon and defeating an evil wizard. Aunt Gwyn helped thread ribbon to the pages. All that was left was to finish up the cover with a picture of her family.

“Are we gonna eat at Sevanda’’s still?” Oriana asked, putting her book on the table, next to that wrapped box of new training leathers for Mama. “Can we get fried squid rings?”

Papa made a gagging noise, “You can get fried squid rings, sweetheart. Mama is on her way back from the library, why don’t we get changed for the symphony?” He placed a kiss on her nose and Oriana kissed him right back on his before she ran back to her room, Pudding trailing behind her.

The House had opened her wardrobe and suddenly, it seemed to Oriana that she had a lot more dresses that she remembered.

She and Mama went to the symphony all the time after school and training. They watched the musicians rehearse during the day, but this was the first time Oriana got to see them perform with all the fancy grown ups. If Mama is going to wear her silver dress, Oriana thought, maybe she would wear silver too. But Mama loved it when she wore red, and she also wanted to wear her Valkyrie ribbon. Taking a deep breath, she dove into her wardrobe.

_________________________________________________________

“I’m ready!” Oriana chirped as she bounced into Papa’s view. She had decided on her favorite red dress, purple socks, and her sparkly sandals. She held the ribbon in her hand that she wanted to tie around her head. Her cousin Cricket always kept her red hair short, so Oriana cut hers to her chin the same way.

Papa scooped her up and twirled her, “You look beautiful, Ori. Why don’t we take the socks off, it’s not cold outside or inside the Symphony.” He set her down, unhooking Oriana’s shoes as she bounced on one foot.

“Okay,” Oriana chirped, “can I wear my ribbon?”

“Of course you can, would you like me to put it on?”

“Not too tight,” Oriana demanded as Papa tied the ribbon around her dark hair.

“Never, sweetheart.” Softly, Mama’s voice carried in from the hall with another voice, Aunt Gwyn and Papa gave her a grin. “Are you ready to go surprise Mama?”

“Let’s go!” Oriana squealed as she flapped her wings, hurling herself towards the hallway. She used her wings to propel her steps, as she threw open the door. She didn’t think, just flew right into Mama’s arms.

“Happy Mama’s Day!” Oriana exclaimed with a giggle, “Surprise! We’re going to the symphony!”

Mama just laughed as she bounced Oriana on her hip, “Surprise indeed!”

Aunt Gwyn placed a small stack of books on the little table by the door, “I won’t keep you any longer, Happy Mother’s Day.” she beamed brightly at Nesta before smacking a kiss on Oriana’s cheek.

“Aunt Gwyn, are you gonna have a baby?” Oriana asked.

“Oriana!” Mama chided, her face turning red as an apple.

Aunt Gwyn laughed, her pretty blue eyes sparkling, “Maybe one day.”

“Well, could you have one now so I have someone to play with? Nyx went to the camps and Cricket and Froggy are at the Day Court. So, I want a baby cousin to play with.’ Oriana clasped her hands together tight and bounced on her feet. “Please.”

“Don’t you have friends at school and your art class?” Aunt Gwyn giggled.

“Yes, I got lots of friends but I want another cousin.” Oriana thought for a moment. “A girl or a boy. Just a cousin who's fun.”

“Well, when Uncle Az and I have a baby you’ll be the first cousin to know.”

“You’re having a baby?” Papa asked as he walked into the room.

“Yeah, Aunt Gwyn’s gonna have a baby so I can have another cousin,” Oriana announced, “But not right now.”

Mama and Aunt Gwyn just started laughing.

___________________________________________

Oriana got her fried squid rings at Sevanda’s and she got extra whipped cream on her strawberry cake. They ate on the balcony and watched and waved at people walking down the street. At the symphony, an old High Fae female told Oriana she looked like a princess, “She’s my princess,” Papa had said proudly. Oriana watched the symphony reverently on Mama’s lap, bouncing along to the drums and tubas and she had only gotten tired during the flight up to the House.

Now, in the dim light of her bedroom, Oriana scrambled up onto her bed, book in hand. “This is for you.” she puffed as she snuggled next to Mama. “It’s a book! Aunt Gwyn helped me tie it, but I wrote it all by myself.” “That’s me and you and Papa.” Oriana pointed at the figures in the drawing on the cover. “I put silver for my eyes and your eyes, cause we have silver eyes. And I used black and red for my wings!” Oriana pointed to the blob shape, “There’s Pudding,” she said, affirming her cat’s presence, “and here’s The House.”

Nesta set the picture down reverently on the bedside table. Grabbing Oriana into a hug, she inhaled the sweet scent of mountain juniper. “I love it so much.” Nesta said softly, kissing Oriana’s face all over. “I’m going to show everyone in the library.”

Oriana rubbed her eyes, the lights from her flower and star lights began to fuzz in vision as Mama’s song and arms cradled her to sleep.

“Night, night, Mama.” she mumbled as she stepped into her dreams.

Nesta listened to the soft rhythm of her daughter’s breath as she held her, a ritual she completed every single night since Oriana was born.

The very idea of motherhood had terrified her, her own mother took residence in the back of her mind, whispering doubt into her ear. The first time Nesta had felt her child move, a sheer sense of terror washed over her; would she be another incarnation of her mother? Would she place all expectations of grandeur on the chest of her child with no thought for breath?

But, the moment Madja had placed Oriana on her chest, her mother was banished from her mind. Instead, a door opened in her heart, revealing a vast and wondrous sky of love for her daughter. Her name, Oriana, an old Illyrian name, sounded like a song, and it was one that Nesta sang every day. She and Cassian had made this beautiful little girl; with Nesta’s blue gray eyes and dark hair that matched Cassian’s, but still had that baby fine texture that made it impossible to stay tidy for long.

Yet, she was completely her own person, a curious and creative child who loved music and stories. Nesta delighted in every moment, even if she did want to take refuge in the deepest pit of the library some days.

The House had dimmed the lights softly, as Nesta stroked Oriana’s face, studying her Illyrian brow and Archeron nose, of the rosebud lips and cheeks that dimpled when she smiled, which thank the Mother, was every single day. Soft wings that curled at the top in a way that Cassian’s didn’t. Did his mother have wings like this, Nesta had often wondered, was this something Oriana carried of a grandmother that would have surely loved her?

The door creaked as Cassian almost silently crept inside. “I missed storytime, didn’t I?” He lowered himself softly on the other side of the bed, wrapping their little girl and Nesta into his own arms.

Nesta closed her eyes as she drifted off, at peace in the tangled arms of her family.

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