Rhaemarys

I stare down at the coffin being lowered into the ground muddy pit. The ornate carvings and lavish embellishments of flowers and metal details have been overcast by the rain and cold. A cold wind whips through the empty cemetery and Feyre presses herself against my front, Elain curling around her as I drape an arm over the pair.

My hatred for their mother only builds as their tears soak into my clothes. Even in death she still causes her children pain. I wish I could stop it, tell them to not waste their tears considering their mother was a cold hearted bitch but she was still their mother.

Nesta inhales a shuddering breath beside me, her hand clutching tightly at mine.

"This is then. This is the last of the money."

"Nes." I whisper quietly when Elain whimpers at her statement.

"It's true though isn't it." She snaps and I briefly close my eyes. "He spent the last of it on giving her a proper, fancy, burial. She's dead, what use does she have for extravagance?"
Feyre bites down on a wail and I snarl at Nesta, the sound so animalistic that Elain flinches but my eldest merely bares her teeth at me.

"Father is a mess, the estate is gone; you're sick, those Day court mongrels have been no help. I'd argue their pathetic little potions were only to weaken you rather than strengthen you-"

"Daughter." I snap furiously and her eyes widen. "This is not the time or place. Take your anger out elsewhere before you cause damage that you do not intend."

She sniffles, raising her chin and I almost smile at the fighting stance she has unconsciously taken. I open my mouth to say something soothing, to apologise for my own harsh tone but Nesta has already whirled away in a storm of grief and rage through the rain.

I sigh, fighting down my tears at their pain. After it becomes clear that Mr Archeron has no intention of moving or comforting his daughters I slowly guide the youngest two out of the cemetery.

They don't protest but Feyre's cries threaten to turn into full blow sobs once we reach the turning point between the old estate and the village. She knows. She knows we're not going back to that place.

We walk in relative silence. The girls have slowly detached themself from me and have taken to just holding my hand as the three of us get lost in though. I don't know how I'm going to do this.

Nesta was right. Something is wrong with those potions I've been taking. I shouldn't be losing this much weight and strength so quickly. Not when I'm finally moving on from what happened in that prison. What happened under that forsaken mountain not so much.

I can blank out what happened in the prison, the days bled into one and the Bone Carver and Samera had helped soften the blow of time. Something aches in my chest at the mention of my old friend. She was my second in command but she was also the closest thing I had to a sister. The Bone Carver said she was gone. That she had left but there has been no mention of her from my- associates.

There have been rumours, speculations but nothing concrete.

"Where are we going?" Fey whispers. Her cheeks are streaked with dried tears but when I go to wipe them away Elain refuses to let my hand go. I stop, pausing in the road to tug the two girls in front of me before crouching down.

"You know things have been tough with money, yes?" I wait for them to nod, knowing the lack of servants and shiny new clothes over the past year and half had become obvious to all. "Well we're moving somewhere small, so that it's not as much of a burden to maintain."

Not like we could have all lived in the old estate just without the servants had Mr Archeron not go so deep into debt that he had to sell everything.

"Will we move back when Papa gets better?" Elain questions, eyes so round and curious.

"I don't know, Ellie." I smooth a hand down her hair, resting it on her cheek. "Please don't get your hopes up my darling. I can't make any promises about this."

She nods, accepting my answer even though I can see the hope still shining in her eyes. I don't want to take that from her. I remember how the young ones held out hope when we were first imprisoned. When it was just a slave camp and we were all in it together. Before the experiments and the mind games. Before we turned on one another for scraps of food.

Nesta is waiting for us further up the road. She offers me a soft smile and I nod in return. All is forgotten for today. That was not an argument worth welling on.

The four of us walk down the road together, Feyre having traded me out for her eldest sister. Slowly, the sun begins the sink over the horizon and I catch sight of a ramshackle village sprawled out on the valley below. Poverty doesn't begin to describe some areas. Barren land, ramshackle structures that look to be no more than sheds housing families. I shake my head in disgust.

We were a warmongering people, we had our wars, failing and poverty just like any other empire but it was never like this. Even when there were no structures, no tools or weapons, nature still provided for our people. The very ground would sprout crops to care for them out of instinct and loyalty.

The old way of magic has been lost to time it would seem.

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The cottage was a dismal place but we were making work. Feyre was confused about the whole thing, seeing it as an adventure until three weeks in when the shock of her mothers death and the house move finally wore off leaving the cold harsh truth of reality. There were a lot of tears.

I had taught Nesta how to cook and tend a home, wording it in a caring manner and describing it as just another way to care and provide for those you love instead of focusing on the lifestyle she had lost.

Elain had taken to caring for Mr Archeron and unfortunately myself.

"Would you stop fussing." I hiss, swatting at Elain hand as she tries to help me to the table. "I am fine."

"You fainted." Because I haven't eaten in three days so that you and your sisters can have decent meals. "Let me fuss until I know you're okay."

She seems so much older. There's still that naivety and that youthful wonder and hope about her but in moments like these I can see the woman she is becoming.

"I'll be leaving soon for the summer solstice." I begin and my girls exchange looks across the table. Their father is ever oblivious but that makes this conversation easier. "I'll head out to the forest tomorrow, stock up the reserves. You remember how to ration."

Nesta doesn't appreciate me doubting her intelligence if her sharp glare is anything to go by but I need to be sure. I can't leave them floundering and defenceless even if the solstice is the few times a year I get to be around my own people and see Rhys.

The meal is a quiet affair. Elain and her father discuss the muddy excuse of the garden outfront. She wants to plant roses come spring. I glance at Nesta but she's studiously ignoring everyone else once more.

Feyre's nose does that adorable little scrunching thing of hers. "Should we not plant food come spring."

I zone out of the conversation as Elain talks about soil quality, the length of roots and something about reversing damage.

Mother above I need a break.

A/N: There may be some large time skips because I'm struggling to write pre-acotar and I honestly want to get to the more 'fun' sections with our favourite characters.