A cold wind buffeted against the shutters of the Winter Court palace, flinging bits of ice against the pane. It was a marvel that the glass hadn't frozen completely. Each day, it seemed to grow colder, and though Feyre wished it was her imagination, the temperature readings from their devices proved it to be true.
"Our home is becoming more uninhabitable by the day," Kallias said from his seat at the table, drumming his pale fingers against polished wood.
They were all situated in the Palace's dining room.
Almost all.
Feyre glanced at a vacant seat for a long moment before turning a careful gaze toward Hollis, then to Rhys, who hadn't touched the food in front of him since it had arrived twenty minutes ago. It had been just over a week since Nova returned to them, naked and unbreathing on the foyer floor – one week since Madja told them it would be a long time before Nova walked again.
"Thesan may have allowed a delay to the upcoming meeting, but I don't think we can push it much further," Rhysand said, his voice graveled. "And Nova is still in no right mind to exchange vows. With those tonics, she's delirious."
Hollis cringed, but it was true. Just this morning, before he'd come down to breakfast, he heard her say something to Madja that sounded like utter nonsense. It wasn't that she spoke a broken language; it was the words she strung together that didn't make sense.
"Paint with the fireflies." She'd said.
What did that mean?
Mor sipped her glass of juice and frowned, "What if we request aid from Helion? If he can accelerate her healing, she won't need those concoctions. She'd at least be in the right frame of mind for the conversation of what she wants to do," she cast a glance at Hollis, "What you both want to do."
Those who surrounded the table let their gazes drift to Hollis, who sat as still as a statue and swallowed harshly. "As I said in the meeting, I will do what Nova is most comfortable with. As it is, both sides of the coin are cursed; it doesn't matter who flips it or where it lands."
Feyre gnawed on her lower lip and said, "I'm not against asking Helion for help."
"I can send a request," Rhysand murmured, eyes downcast as his mind whirred.
The room grew quiet as Hollis slowly stood and quietly excused himself. He ignored the way the room swayed as he crossed to the exit and left with a quiet click of the door behind him. Sighing, he leaned back and stared ahead for a long moment before pushing off and heading toward the stables.
Despite the sound of the door he'd just left opening and shutting again, Hollis continued until he entered the stables, which had been boarded up and extra insulating fibers, with the hope that the horses could survive the increasing cold.
Especially with a little one on the way.
"Damn, it's cold out here," Kyra rubbed her hands together as she entered the stables a moment later.
Hollis managed a small smile and rolled his eyes. "Are you here to complain or help?"
"Both."
Nodding his head, he sighed as he slipped into his rubber boots and trekked down the aisle where the mare with her round belly flicked her tail. With a smile, Hollis ventured inside and patted her nose.
"Can't believe Rhysand let us keep Ruby," he said, offering her a frozen carrot, hearing the indignant wheezes of Leon in the next stall. He pursed his lips and stroked her mane, then gently patted her belly. "At least Wild can live on through you, hm?"
Kyra leaned against the frame with a sad smile. "How long do you think it will be?"
"I measured her to be about six months now that she's showing more prominently," Hollis nodded, "I didn't realize she was pregnant when I first saw her."
"Hm," she mused, "How do you know it's Wild's?"
"Wishful thinking." He shrugged and turned to face her, studying her a moment before he reached for a rake and offered it to her. "I'll lead her to the arena for some exercise, if you'd like to start mucking out."
"Aye-aye," Kyra smiled, taking the instrument and leaning against the wall, watching him. "Have you heard from Bran?"
Hollis shook his head and cringed as he situated Ruby's bridal, "All Rhysand has said is that he's helping Finch…" He swallowed, glancing over at Kyra, who tightened her jaw before trying to relax her shoulders.
There wasn't a funeral for Peter.
No one had the stomach to put him to rest while Nova was unable to attend.
Peter wouldn't have wanted that.
"What would you do?" Kyra asked, just before he could leave.
Glancing in her direction, Hollis frowned, "What do you mean?"
"Back at the table," she swallowed, "You said that you'd do whatever Nova is most comfortable with, and as admirable as that sounds, what if Nova is never the same again? What if she can't make those decisions, like the way she was when we first met her? What would you do if it were only you who could make the decision?"
His stomach knotted as he pursed his lips into a thin line and shook his head, "Honestly? I don't know how to answer that without sounding like a jackass. So, in the spirit of diplomacy and cruel politics, I refrain from answering."
"Spoken like a true High Lord."
Hollis swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, "I can't care for her if there isn't a world to care for her in. At the end of the day, there is no right answer, it's all just bullshit layered with more bullshit."
Kyra nodded, smiling tightly, "We need a bigger shovel."
Snorting, Hollis shook his head but let out a laugh as he departed to work on Ruby's tight muscles and frayed nerves.
Reclined with more pillows than she could probably count, Nova focused her attention on a spot above the fireplace where a clock sat. It was an ornate little thing with polished dark wood and gold trim that reminded her of something she'd find in Edith's home.
Edith, she remembered her. She could recall now the way her crooked fingers seemed to find their way up and down the neck of a lute that created such a sound it could have moved Nova to tears.
Even now, as Madja hovered over her with hot towels and ointments and creams, Nova thought back to the times she never knew to miss. The mossy mist of her first home, now tinged with dark memories, to the light of Velaris upon her first visit to the Rainbow District.
The first time she met Peter. The feeling of the wood beneath her feet from the obstacle course her family had built for her. Nova closed her eyes, remembering the brine of the ocean against her skin while she collected seashells in the sand.
Each day around this time, Nova clung to the memories that surfaced. The good memories, the ones that made her heart feel a little lighter, because all too soon she'd drink another mug of something warm and she'd settle into herself like another layer of sediment, lazily drifting through an archaic sea of confusion. In a few minutes, she wouldn't remember where she was, and she wouldn't care… she would let it. She'd let the tonics numb her spirit, because while the warmth of good memories offered a moment of relief, they soon twisted into something she didn't want to know. A monster that clawed through her chest with every labored breath she took.
As cowardly as it seemed, she'd rather be numb than face it.
"Nova?" Madja asked gently, folding a linen as she dipped it into the hot cauldron above the fire in the hearth.
Lowering her gaze, Nova met her eyes and waited for her to continue.
"Did you have another nightmare earlier?" Madja asked in a soft voice.
"I always have nightmares," Nova answered quietly, a soft slur of her tongue, and rested her head back against the pillows as Madja crossed the room to her side.
Carefully, she slid the hot compress into a position that rested vertically along her back, offering her heat and moisture to loosen the tight muscles that resided there. It had been the longest resting break Nova had yet had. She still lacked the ability to sit up, let alone go for her usual ten-mile jog through rough terrain.
"Are you ready for more tonic?" Madja asked, brows furrowed as she surveyed her for a moment.
Nova gave the tiniest nod of her head, and Madja moved to the station she'd set up, complete with all her supplies and ingredients for her elixirs. It wasn't until Nova took the first smooth, bitter sip that she realized a figure stood at the door.
"I don't mean to interrupt," Hollis offered a small, sheepish smile.
His hair was windblown, he'd either been outside or just rolled out of bed, Nova thought as the tonic began to work its way through her system, clouding her thoughts.
"I've just come from the kitchen," Hollis nodded as he stepped into the room, carrying before him a small crystal plate adorned with a decoration of holly berries. He offered the platter to Nova, and she glanced down, staring at the sticky bun covered in thick icing and drizzled with honey.
Hollis cleared his throat, "Our baker had made a few, but I was told you like honey on yours. I hope it's alright…"
Staring down at the plate, Nova slowly looked up at him, taking in his expectant features as hers remained placid.
"You are not Peter." She said, watching his face fall a little, he nodded.
"Yes, well…" Hollis swallowed and set the plate on the side table beside her pillow. "I'll leave it here if you change your mind. I don't mean to bother you…" He waited a beat longer, but when it was evident Nova wouldn't be responding again, he gave a departing, awkward nod. Offering a tight smile to Madja, who stared at Nova with a slight frown, he left.
Once Hollis was gone from the room, Madja shook her head. "That was quite rude, Nova."
But she didn't listen as she closed her eyes and leaned back into her pillows again, jaw tight as she willed the tonic to take her mind, and with it, the anguish in her soul.
Trotting down the hallway, Hollis ran his fingers through his hair as he released a sigh and leaned against a section of bare wall where a priceless painting didn't hang and glared ahead. It would be a lie to say he wasn't at least a little frustrated.
He knew he wasn't Peter, but he wasn't trying to be.
Closing his eyes, Hollis took a deep breath. Maybe bringing her a cinnamon roll wasn't the best idea; he had thought perhaps it would offer some comfort. Oh, how wrong he'd been.
Just as he was about to descend the stairs, a familiar voice from a lower level called up to him, and he paused, watching Azriel march up the steps with a quizzical brow in place.
"Bran informed me of the training you've been doing with him. I'm to continue your training."
Hollis nodded, "Oh, I just left the stables…" He paused, taking in the raised brow from Azriel, and cleared his throat. "But I'm sure it's changed in the last fifteen minutes. I'll grab my gear."
The ring was vacant, aside from the usual attendant, who had been working less and less with the days growing shorter and colder. It was different to have Azriel as his coach. He thought Bran was quiet, but Azriel was on a different level. He didn't just observe with an occasional tip or trick, nonchalantly kicking the dirt as he walked around the arena, as Bran did.
No, Azriel watched every minuscule move Hollis made with severe scrutiny.
Each slip of his hand or boot was corrected, not that he minded, but with his intense stare, Hollis could sense himself on the verge of more mistakes. Leading him to make more mistakes…and eventually to his falling from Leon and onto the frozen dirt with a loud thud.
Blinking the blur from his vision, Hollis looked up at Azriel, who casually walked toward him.
"You slipped."
"Yeah…"
"You aren't focused."
"Is anybody?"
"Yes," Azriel answered plainly. "Because in times of chaos, you need to be able to focus. With distractions. Intimidations. You need to be able to continue your work despite it all."
Hollis frowned. "You were trying to intimidate me?"
Simply smirking, Azriel offered his hand to him, "You are very easily intimidated."
Cringing, Hollis took the hand and let himself be hauled up, "Well, it worked."
"It won't with time. Let's go again."
Though it was the last thing Hollis wanted to do, he set his foot into Leon's stirrup and hoisted himself up, biting his lip to keep himself from groaning with discomfort.
It wasn't until Hollis was too stiff to ride anymore, be it from the cold or his superficial injury, that Azriel called for him to take a break for the day.
"We'll continue tomorrow, just after you tend the stables," Az said as they walked toward the Palace, trying to walk in stride with the Illyrian, as if his ass didn't throb with every step he took.
"Was it alright?" Hollis asked, glancing over at him. Azriel met him with a hard stare, and he suddenly regretted asking the question.
"Was what alright?"
Hollis swallowed, "Uhm…my riding. My stance."
"I corrected what I needed to during training. Don't try to impress me," Azriel continued as Hollis paled, "If I need you to alter what you do, then I will."
With a slight nod, Hollis couldn't seem to relax his shoulders, but just as the moment of silence was beginning to grow more awkward, a raised voice caught his attention. Frowning, they ventured forward to one of the larger studies. A library, really.
"She was very clear she didn't want to speak to you," Rhysand said from his place in a leather chair, a crystal glass of something dark in his hand.
Nesta fumed as she crossed her arms and paced in front of the windows, "You said she's incoherent, yet she told you this?"
"I will not prove it to you," Rhysand replied indifferently, "If my daughter says she doesn't want you in her room, then that request will be honored. Just because you want to make amends doesn't mean you're entitled to her forgiveness."
Hollis swallowed, brows raised as Nesta turned her murderous glare on him, but instead of shrinking back, he clenched his jaw and remained where he was.
"I am not the enemy." Nesta slid her gaze back to Rhys.
"Then stop painting yourself as one."
Feyre moved to stand between them, as Nesta had inched her way closer, and she didn't want to have to be responsible for repainting the Winter Court library. "You said it yourself, Nesta. Nova needs control, and she detests lying. You did both, and you can't deny it. It may take time, but time is what you both need. Let her request your company…when she does that, then you are more than welcome to visit her."
Grinding her teeth, Nesta turned to a different pair of eyes, "Why so quiet, little mouse?" She asked Ana, who sat quietly on the sofa. "Won't you admit the things you did for this scheme?"
Ana lifted her gaze and set her shoulders, "I've already had that conversation in private. My actions are my own, and I will not harbor yours, too. Either accept her decision, or leave."
One moment, Nesta was stalking toward Ana, and the next, Azriel stood before her with a curled lip and quivering wings. Dark shadows slithered their way around his armor, ready to stalk forward as Ana took his hand. Though still a barrier, Azriel lowered his stance enough to relax his muscles.
"She's got you on a short leash, I see," Nesta smirked.
"Enough, Nesta," Feyre frowned, "If you want to help Nova, how about you think about her for once, only her. Not what she can offer you. How can we help her?"
Glancing at Feyre with a skeptical twist of her brow, she narrowed her eyes and winnowed away.
Releasing her held breath, Ana sighed as Az took the space beside her, his powerful frame acting as a wall of protection as Hollis slowly slipped out of the room. There was so much to sort through, but at least he wasn't the only one Nova deflected away. Feyre was right; she needed time, something they didn't necessarily have a lot of, but Hollis would do his best to grant that to her.
Emerging from the kitchen and into the back gardens, Hollis took with him bowls of raw meat. Being careful that he didn't drip as he went, he trekked across the garden. What used to be a path was now covered with so much ice and snow that it looked more like a barren landscape. They never had much foliage to begin with, but now it was nothing but flat white for miles until the trees that were tall enough cut the snow off at a deep slope.
Swallowing hard, Hollis pushed past his fears and crossed the threshold between safety and the wild. Each day, he grew a little braver with how far he'd venture, then, when he was far enough, he'd scatter the raw trimmings from their meals. Tossing the chunks sent spatters of red across the white blanket, but it didn't take long for a few hungry takers to venture forward.
A white fox snatched a piece of the frozen offering and gnawed on it right where he stood.
"It's not much," Hollis said gently, "But one day there will be enough food for everyone again."
I hope.
From her seat in the window, Madja had moved Nova to allow her a bit of natural light. She watched Hollis hobble across the snow and into the forest. She frowned, watching with both envy and confusion as the drip, drip, drip of blood trailed after him.
"Is he hurt?" Nova croaked softly, knowing she'd need another round of tonic soon.
Madja glanced up as she cleaned off the bedding to exchange for fresh sheets. "Hollis? I wouldn't imagine. He takes food to the animals daily. Those that can get close enough will at least have a full belly for the night."
Swallowing dryly, Nova searched the tree line and studied the way the snow crept further up the trunk than she'd remembered last.
"It's getting worse, isn't it?" She whispered.
Madja slowly crossed the room to stand by her and nodded, "I'm afraid so."
It was all such a delicate balance, one that Nova had learned well. Everything was connected, and if one should cease to exist, then everything leading to it would, too.
"Madja," Nova murmured, leaning her head back. "I want to skip the tonic."
Frowning, she moved to sit at her feet by the sill, studying her face. "The pain will return should you stop the treatment, Nova."
"I know…" Swallowing, she took a breath and released it. "I can't think clearly with it, and I should be in my right mind for this. I wish to be married as soon as possible."