Isabella

A gentle knock at the door has me perking up, staring in trepidation as it slowly creaks open to reveal Nesta's worried face. She tries to force a smile but it comes off pained and unsure.

"Feyre wants to talk to you." I glance down at where Oliver rests in my arms.

"I can stay with him." One look at my twin, at the steel in her eyes, has me nodding. She'll die before letting anything happen to him.

Once Nesta has settled in next Ollie I softly close the door, taking a steading breath before striding through the chaos of the house. Elain is apparently rounding up all the servants and giving them an early holiday. She's been at it for hours and the noise of carriages coming benign filled and people coming and going nearly woke up Ollie a number of times.

Elain smiles from her place in the foyer, pausing her commanding instructions long enough to gesture to the drawing room.

So Feyre is to remain hidden until the house is empty. A sad truth but a required safety precaution. My sister is quiet when I enter, offering me a hesitant smile from her perch before the hearth. It looks like she hasn't moved and I wonder if the shock that forced me to flee forced her to stay.

"Nesta tells me that Elain's fiance will treat her will." Feyre begins once i take my seat. Awkward small talk it is then.

"The father." I muse, pursuing my lips in thought. "That one knows how to wield truth and turn walls into cages of protection."

She winces at my words and I know I've hit my mark. So he was an abusive bastard then.

"You have that look." I murmur, voice flat and dead. "I've seen that look many times. Never thought I'd see it on you."

"Why not?" She croaks, not bothering to ask what look I mean.

I shrug, "I had always seen you as stronger than I."

She frowns, not understanding the solidarity I am trying to offer her. The comfort and reliability. No, she doesn't want to see it. For that's hurt and rage building in her eyes.

"It wasn't about strength." Her voice is strong and uncompromising. I'd be proud of her for that if it weren't for her misunderstanding my words. She clears her throat. "We were both grieving and our love for one another became a crutch and a life line."

"You don't owe me an explanation-"

"I want to." She murmurs, looking so vulnerable that I can't help but nod in agreement. "He kept me in a gilded cage, to save me - to protect me. And I think... I think what happened to him, to us, Under the Mountain broke him. The drive to protect at all costs, even my own well being... I think he wanted to stifle it, but he couldn't. He couldn't let go of it."

"You are free of him now." It's not a question but she nods anyway.

"I just... I just needed to know that you were still happy." Fey whispers and I freeze. "That you still adore Tomas in that way of yours, that you and Oliver are still having your weekly visits and are cared for. I... I need to know that it's still possible, that this isn't-"

She gestures openly, unable to put into words what she needs but I understand. I swallow heavily, realising that though I wanted to relate to Feyre, to support her as someone who understands what she really needs - wants - is to move on. To forget about Tamlin, to grow and learn how to love again.

"Yes.'' I whisper, putting on my best smile as I lean forwards, hands outstretched to clasp her hands in mine. "There is always more to life, Feyre. It is a beautiful messy road, there is no true ending for you of all people should know that life doesn't end with death. You will love, hate, cry and burn with emotions of every kind, that's what makes it life, little sister." I squeeze her hands, smiling through my tears as her own eyes water.

"What about you?" She murmurs, eyeing me curiously. "You're my family, I can't just leave you behind."

"You have a second chance, you have a whole new life you can lead - one where you seem so much more healthier and happier than you ever were as a human. We will always be your family Feyre, we will always love you in our own way. But you have a new family now," She jerks slightly, eyes widening in surprise. "I can see it, Little Star, from the way you talk about them to the way you are now... you're at peace with them my love."

"Do you want to meet them?" She whispers, holding back her tears.

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It had taken Elain hours to clear out the house. I'd taken the time to prepare a small dinner for Ollie. Smuggling him down to the kitchen away from Nesta and Feyre's accusing stares. Its a lose-lose situation. If I let Feyre see him I put him at risk and though I love my sister dearly I'm not sure if she's still the girl I knew. Not to mention Nesta would be enraged. But if I keep Ollie away then Feyre will be heartbroken. I might as well have waved a flag declaring 'I don't trust you' and 'you're not family'.

I hate family politics.

Will the Fae be offended if I keep Ollie away? They might understand that we have been raised to see them as threats and after what Tamlin did- I shake my head, focusing on cutting up the chicken into small chunks.

Oliver is softly humming as he munches away on the roast potatoes. He beams up at me, offering a cooked carrot to me like its the greatest gift. A soft smile blooms on my face, playful biting at the carrot in his fingers. Squealing in delight Oliver turns back to his plate.

Inexplicably sadness sinks low in my stomach. He's so small.Yet... he's grown up so fast. Tomas will expect us back tomorrow. I almost scoff at the thought. My one few peaceful days away from the bastard and Feyre has gone and taken it from me.

It's wrong to be irritated at her, but it's easier than facing the fear I felt when she told me of her death. I thought the world had ended.

"Done!" I drop my cutlery in surprise.

"Done?" I arch a brow, peering at his mostly vegetable filled plate. "Hmmmmm..... Are you sure?"

He pauses. Glancing between the plate, me, the vegetables, my glare. Thankfully my kid does have some brains so he finishes the greens on his plate. I hold back my triumphant smile, choosing to finish the last of the ridiculously expensive imported lemonade I found. It's obscene how much father spends on non-essentials, no wonder he went bankrupt in the first place.

It would have been so easy to tell Feyre just then, to confess that father needed a way to pay off his debts. That he had married me off to the Mandrays in payment. One less mouth to feed, I had thought. I hadn't loved him, hadn't known him despite what lies father had filled Feyre's and Elain's head. Lies he had tried to convince Nesta of.

My twin is not easily swayed. Not even when I had argued that I could love him. That with time I could grow to cherish my new home. She had merely laughed, the sound scornful and brittle before walking off.

There was nothing either of us could have done. Not even once Nesta had confessed the truth, told me what Tomas had tried to do but weeks prior to our engagement. What was there for us to do? Father needed the money and security they were offering, the Mandrays had been generous enough to promise father the cottage. They had been leasing it too us and father could no longer pay rent. It had been a dream for my family when a deal was struck.

The small dowry father had kept for me was wasted in days. Money spent in taverns and gambling. If only he and his blasted father had spent the money more wisely we could have had a reserve for Oliver. At the time I was married it would have been enough to buy a horse, to make the trek to my sister's easier, or even to visit the market or the forest. They could have bought a new plough for the small patch of land the family tended to but no. He spent it on alcohol.

There might have been a time back then as well, where I would have told my sisters the truth of my marriage. Even Nesta doesn't know the full truth though she's too smart to not suspect. But that time had long since passed and I could never - would never - admit to what I had all but willingly walked into.

I could never tell Elain or Feyre that I had done this for them. That I had agreed thinking they would have a home and one less burden. Especially not with how Feyre reacted to my comment about Tamlin. My sister was so determined to not blame herself, to be strong in the way of accepting that an abusive relationship is the fault of the abuser and not the victim. How could I ever tell her I did this for them without making it sound like I wanted praise or for them to take some sort of responsibility.

No, this was my choice. I did this to myself, so now I must deal with it.

Besides, I clear away the now empty plate, watching silently as Oliver plays with a soft plush bat toy Nesta had got him as a cruel joke. It had been aimed at my father. The reminder of the bats that had lived in their old cottage and my current home. I knew she had hoped that he would see it and remember. Remember what he had done to me and the fate he had sealed for his grandson but he had no interest.

Even if Oliver was his heir. There was Nesta and Elain now, he could marry them off to better stock. Gain more through a marriage alliance and gain a more... respectable blood line for his heir.

He could hardly stand to look at my son, never even held him when he was born. In fact, he had forbidden my sisters to see me. Apparently it was a request from Tomas to have privacy but I was left on my own with Tomas' mother who was of little help. Nesta had come as soon as she heard the news. Elain trailing behind a few days after once all the messy, gory bits were over.

Feyre was too busy hunting to visit. It was her way of trying to shun me for having a 'better' life than her.

Oh how she must be laughing at me now. Even with how she cared earlier, and how her suffering was clear it was just as obvious that she was moving on with her life. That she was telling her side of the story now.

Oliver fusses as I try to wipe the food from his mouth, flapping the soft wings of the little bat toy in my face. I held back my tired sigh, not wanting to discourage his joy even though I could cry with exhaustion.

The house is nearly empty and Feyre will want us to meet her new family soon. To have us sit around one table with fae more powerful than us, stronger and older in every way as we sit there vulnerable and defenceless.

What made her think this was a good idea?

No. I can't do this. I can't have my son in the same house as Fae. After what Tamlin did to us I can't take that risk again. I won't have Oliver around them.

"Ollie," I call and he doesn't bother to look up from his imaginary game, "Can you go find Nesta and start packing our things."

"We were going to have a sleepover." His eyebrows furrowed into a frown identical to Feyre's and my heart stutters again at what I'm doing.

"Not anymore Sweetheart." My voice is firm enough that he doesn't bother to question me but I can see the way his eyes dim a little. The lost opportunity for more of Nesta's stories and the nice chocolatey desserts she spoils him with.

Once he's left the kitchen I think about making my way to Elain, hoping to take one of the horses so the journey is easier in the growing winter darkness and cold. Instead I end up staring out the kitchen window, finishing the last of my lemonade as I question my decision again. Maybe I should stay, Feyre is my sister after all and I love her even if her new life will take some getting used to.

It's back again, that stupid feeling that no longer incites fear but rage. They're watching me. Those little fae friends of feyre's. It must be them, there's no other explanation. They were probably right there when I stepped out the front, they must have been watching me.

Today has been too much. Too much news, too many surprises, too many requests and there have been far too many infringes on my life.

A/N: What kind of interactions do you want to see between Isabella and Oliver