goldenmagnolias - Tumblr blog

goldenmagnolias · 5 days

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones - XV

Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. PLEASE NOTE: This chapter will contain physical abuse with some implied language that may be found triggering.

shoutout to @abruisedmuse for always listening to me ramble <3

Find it all here.

The promise of death had slipped out of his mouth before he could process what was happening, and Eris’s jaw clenched as he glanced at his father-in-law, thinking of the time he had wasted playing his father’s games.

Eris had known his father would fuck around to keep him from being here when Lord Aron arrived, but he hadn’t realized the asshole had already slipped in undetected.

All the High Lord had said was, “Stay. The sight of you brings me joy, son.”

And Eris had been forced to stand in silence as his father ignored him, while Iris met with her father alone.

But if Eris pushed, Beron would only delight in twisting this nugget of information. And Eris couldn't risk it.

Although none of it mattered in the end.

Anger and a slight panic had fueled his steps, knowing his father was likely laughing his ass off after he finally released him, but it was as he set foot into the hall leading to their chambers that he froze and every single nerve in his body went on high alert. Because Eris heard Iris.

He had felt her calling for him and didn’t stop to think about how when he felt her panic course through him.

Eris winnowed directly to the front of their door and froze again, listening for a moment — his jaw clenching at the sneering of her father. To his threats against her. So many threats and Eris saw red.

Now he was crouched before his wife, his Iris, who was on the floor with bruises. Who had flinched back from him because of her father.

His wife, whom he had promised to be here with her when this piece of shit came.

He’d welcome Lord Aron warmly alright.

“Can you stand?” he asked her ever so gently and Iris massaged a hand to her throat then nodded. He held out a hand and waited as Iris watched him, her eyes looking at him with an expression he certainly wouldn’t read into now. An expression that made the beating of his heart turn erratic.

But then Lord Aron snorted and Iris flinched back, her hand shooting back to her side, her eyes snapping to her father. Eris’s hand slowly curled into a fist and he spared the Lord one look before his eyes fell back on Iris.

“I’m going to have a word with your father. Would you like to be here for this or go elsewhere?” he asked her quietly and Iris licked her lips, shaking her head.

“I’m staying.” she said hoarsely and he nodded. He had expected nothing less from her.

Slowly, Eris straightened as his father-in-law stared at him.

“That isn’t the warm welcome I expected, Eris.” Lord Aron replied then cleared his throat. “That statement is a threat.”

“Yes. It is.” Eris said simply, his eyes cataloging every detail about the awful male in front of him and his mind drifted back to every foul thing Iris had told him about her father. “Bow.”

His father-in-law blinked then flushed. “Is that necessary? We are family.”

Eris cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Do you bow to the High Lord?”

“Of course. He is the High Lord.”

“And I am the High Lord’s son.” Eris said coldly. “I do not consider you my family, Bertillon. Bow.”

Lord Aron’s flush deepened, and he shot Iris a glare. “Look what you’ve done you stupid bi —”

A growl slipped from Eris’s lips, cutting off the lord’s rant and he held himself taut enough that it was almost painful. It took every ounce of Eris’s willpower not to rip the male apart. “I strongly suggest you not finish that statement.” Eris hissed and finally, his father-in-law had the decency to have some fear in his eyes.

Swallowing, Lord Aron shot Iris one more look of contempt before bowing his head towards Eris.

“Lower.” Eris snarled lowly.

The Lord hesitated for a heartbeat before bending at the waist.

Eris surveyed him then hummed. He glanced at Iris, still on the floor a few feet away from where both he and her father stood, watching her father with disgust. It eased his tension only slightly that her bruises had already started to fade but didn’t stop the guilt — the anger — that she had them in the first place.

His mother’s bruises flashed in his mind and Eris looked back to the second male who he would daydream about viciously shredding to pieces.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Eris spoke calmly. “I will give you one chance to answer this correctly.” he began and Lord Aron’s eyes narrowed. “Why, exactly, are you here? Other than to tell lies about your daughter.”

“I don’t have to answer you when you speak to me that way, Eris.” Lord Aron snarled and shot Iris a glare.

Eris smiled.

“Oh, but you do, Bertillon. The only reason you’re still standing where you are and not dead is because of your daughter.” he said, his tone a lethal calm and Lord Aron’s mouth twisted.

“Your father wouldn’t like that.” he replied quietly and Eris’s smile darkened.

“I suggest you worry less about my father and fix that face. I’m not one you should be looking at like that.” he said quietly. “Especially when my fire could wrap itself around your throat and I could so easily...let it burn.”

Lord Aron blanched then cleared his throat, attempting to fix his jacket for a quiet moment before answering. “I came to make sure my daughter isn’t giving you a hard time.” he replied and despite the lack of color in his face, he shot Iris another look of disdain. “I know she has the tendency to overstep her boundaries often.”

Eris blinked, feeling the very tight leash on his anger very close to snapping, his rage building and building and building. How often must he watch the people he cares about deal with this? He already had his father to deal with and now...this vermin seemed to think he could come in here and put his hands on his wife. He took a step towards the male as the room drastically heated. “Who gave you permission to come in here?”

Her father blinked. “As your father-in-law, I assumed I was welcome to come see my daughter as I wished.”

Eris let a heartbeat of silence pass, the fury whirling in his body, giving his father-in-law a moment to realize just how badly he had fucked up. A moment passed before he said too quietly and too calmly, “You assumed wrong.”

And then Eris was on him.

Fire encompassed them both as Eris wrapped a hand tightly around the lord’s neck and slammed him into the ground, hovering over him.

“No one has permission to be in here. No one.” he snarled softly. “Did my wife want you in here?”

“Let go of me.” his father-in-law hissed but a deadly smirk found its way to Eris’s lips and his grip tightened.

“Answer. The. Question.” he demanded softly. “Did she grant you permission to be in here? Because I certainly didn’t.”

“Your father —”

“Isn’t here.” Eris snapped, his fingers digging into Aron’s throat. “Answer. The. Question.”

“No.” Aron choked out and Eris’s hand heated around the lord’s throat.

“Then it seems to me,” Eris began, and it was the wrath of a god streaming from his fingertips. “That if anyone has the tendency to overstep their boundaries here, it’s you.” He spat and leaned in closer. “You forget yourself, Lord. You forget that while you are in the home of the High Lord and in his pocket, whatever permission my father gave you, doesn’t — apply — to — me.”

Eris leaned back again and whatever damper he usually had on his anger was loosened slightly so that nothing but fire could be found in his gaze.

“You made me break my promise.” he said in a deadly calm. “And then you put your hands on my wife.” Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he slid his free hand to Aron’s and with the truly sinister smile he was known for, Eris twisted his arm back and simply...snapped it.

The lord howled and a savage grin bloomed on Eris’ face.

“Yes, you should scream.” Eris said quietly. “You decided to come in here and put your hands on my wife and then have the audacity to think you’d be able to do it again. She flinched back from me because of you. And well...I don't like that.” Eris tightened his grip on Aron’s twisted arm and the lord let out another yelp. “I really, really don’t like it. So now, I’m going to break every bone in your body.”

“She’s my daughter.” her father-in-law snarled. “You can’t do this! I’ll tell your father.”

Eris let out a low laugh. “On the contrary, you can’t do anything.” he said and slid his hand to Aron’s broken one and then one by one, bent his fingers back far enough to break. Eris watched with feral delight as the lord screamed in agony, thinking of Iris’s bruised cheek. Thinking of her bruised throat.

“Consider everything I’m going to do to you as payback for everything you’ve done to her over the years.” he snarled softly and any color left on the lord’s face disappeared as the stench of his fear filled the room. “Oh yes, I’ve heard all about it. I’m going to make you regret every waking moment of your life until now.”

“Eris — son, let’s not —”

But Eris didn’t let him finish. A fist of flame slammed into Aron’s face and it sent him flying back into the table then he crumbled to the floor with a groan, his broken arm hanging useless on his side.

Eris ran a hand through his hair and rolled his shoulders back as he watched Lord Aron pitifully try to sit up. He watched him struggle, watched and knew how his cheek would swell up and that blackened eye would remain closed for a while. Delighted in the slight burn marks on his neck like a pretty necklace.

But it still felt too little. It didn’t feel like enough. He had touched his wife. His wife who he was supposed to protect and had failed. Because her father decided to overstep just like his father tried to overstep. The urge to kill and kill and kill consumed him.

His feet moved on their own, flame licking at his heels, until he crouched in front of Aron again and gripped him by his hair, yanking his head back. “Do not ever call me son, Bertillon. You are nothing to me.”

“Enough.” the lord rasped. “T-this is enough.”

Eris slanted his head, assessing him calmly. “Is it? You put bruises on my wife. You threatened her with more.” He leaned in closer as Bertillon flinched back and a wicked smirk found its way to Eris’s lips. “Did you think you could walk out of here the same way you walked in? With no consequences?”

“Eris — we can —”

“Didn’t anyone tell you?” Eris spoke and it was almost like he was in a trance as he let his fire wrap around his father-in-law’s neck once more. “I really, really don’t like it when people think they can overstep their boundaries with me, and you are too confident for your own good.”

He watched Lord Aron swallow thickly and his smirk widened.

“I - I’m sorry — let’s just —”

Eris clicked his tongue and Aron silenced immediately. “You shouldn’t be apologizing to me. You should be apologizing to Iris.”

Lord Aron’s face flushed, and he sent a glare toward Iris, who watched all this in stunned silence.

“I have nothing to apologize to her for. She’s my daughter. I will treat her as I see fit.”

Eris said nothing for a moment, simply watching the male then nodded. Tightening his grip on the male’s hair, Eris slammed him back into the table once more then pulled him closer.

“Let’s try that again.” he said calmly. “Don’t be stupid now, Bertillon. If I tell you to apologize, you will apologize.”

Lord Aron blinked a few times, the slam to his head clearly dazing him. Eris only watched him as he blinked again stupidly then his eyes flickered to Iris, his gaze hardening. “Why would I apologize when she puts me in positions like this?”

“These are the consequences of your own actions. Your mouth and hands put you in this position, you scum.” Eris snarled softly. “You are the only one responsible for your choices so apologize.”

Aron attempted to glare, barely able to with one eye swollen shut. His lip curled in disgust, glancing once more at Eris then back at Iris.

“I can say the words all you want,” he spoke quietly, his eyes never leaving his daughter. “But I will never mean them. I am sorry for nothing, you useless girl.”

Eris blinked then smiled slowly, ever so gently tugging his father-in-law’s head back, bringing his gaze back to meet his eyes. “I see.” he said softly. “I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way then.”

Aron licked his lips quickly, glancing between Iris and Eris before opening his mouth to speak. “W-wait —”

But Eris tightened his grip and Lord Aron blanched, falling silent immediately. Eris let the blazing flame in his gaze rest on Aron, his hands heating around his throat once more, taking a deep breath.

“I wonder,” Eris began, his voice as soft as a lover’s. “Where should I begin with you?”

Aron made a choking sound as Eris dragged him by the throat closer to him, watching as he turned slightly blue.

“Should I start with your spine? I know exactly where to break it so you don’t die too quickly and suffer properly. Make sure you really feel it.” he said with an unhinged smile. “What about a few burns? We can start right at a second degree then quickly go deeper. Maybe some permanent damage? I could give you a permanent facial deformity. Your physical appearance should match how disgusting you are on the inside, no?”

“Eris — wait —”

Eris slammed Aron’s head back into the table again, earning him a groan. “You know what? Let’s start with your other arm. You don’t really need your hands anyway.”

And Eris saw nothing, registered nothing else aside from his fists and his magic unleashing themselves on his father-in-law. He was vaguely aware of him snapping Aron’s other arm. Recalled briefly the feel of his nose crunching beneath his fist.

But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t enough.

He wanted his blood to fill the halls. He wanted every bone in his body to turn to dust. He wanted him to shrivel into ash.

Most of all, Eris wanted to take back every moment Iris had been alone with him, take back the panic she had felt — that Eris had felt.

The panic Eris had felt at his own father’s smug smile from earlier. His father, who Eris had no doubt, allowed this idiotic male to walk around this cocky.

A scream of agony tore through his thoughts, and it made Eris grin as a sound of bone crunching followed. The feeling of the bastard’s blood coating his knuckles as his fist collided again and again and again until —

He heard something else.

“Eris.”

His name.

A gentle hand touched his shoulder through the flame encompassing him. Flame that would burn anyone else but one —

Only when her voice said his name once more, did he pause and turn to look at his wife slowly.

She was standing before him, her eyes wide but Eris saw no fear in them, just — just concern.

“Eris, it’s okay. You can stop now.” she said softly, her hands still on his shoulder.

He blinked. “He hurt you.” Eris said simply and Iris licked her lips as she squeezed his shoulder gently.

“I know. But I think that’s enough.” she said, and her gaze flickered to her father for a moment before meeting Eris’s gaze again. “I think he’s learned his lesson.”

“He’s owed more than this.” Eris replied, his gaze locked on her beautiful face, still healing. “He made me break my promise.”

“I know.” she agreed and didn’t break his gaze, giving him a tight smile. “But I don’t want him ruining the carpet. I think you can let him go.”

Eris blinked again and the corner of his mouth lifted. He kept his gaze on his wife and when Iris nodded briefly, he nodded back. He turned back to her father and gave his swollen, broken figure a look of disgust.

“Consider this a warning,” Eris began coldly. “You are no longer related to Iris. You will have nothing to do with her or with me. You will not come near either of us. You will not ask about her, attempt to visit, or attempt to contact her at all.” He turned to Iris. “Does this sound reasonable to you, wife?”

She blinked in surprise then nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” he said with a smile that was anything but kind as he turned back to his father-in-law. “If I find out that you even thought about crossing those boundaries, I will tie you to a column in the middle of the courtyard and torture you in all the methods you think the High Lord has tried and more. Do I make myself clear?”

The lump of flesh that was Lord Aron gave a weak nod. Satisfied, Eris stood then dragged the limp body of his father-in-law and opened their chamber door to find several of his sentries waiting there.

“Dump him in an empty room. He isn’t allowed to see a healer for a few hours. I want him to be reminded of this pain every moment until then.” he commanded. “If anyone asks, tell them it’s my business. Should they ask again, I’ll gladly pile them right next to him.”

Eris glanced down at what was left of Lord Aron and granted his father-in-law one last look of burning rage. “Consider yourself lucky to be alive, you filthy piece of shit.” he swore and crouched down to meet his trembling gaze. “This time you got off easily. Next time...there won’t be anything left of you to find. I can promise you that.”

He watched his father-in-law twitch slightly, a small whimper slipping from the male’s lips and savage satisfaction coursed through Eris’s veins. Using one finger, the Prince of Autumn pressed into his father-in-law’s throat and let a little heat surge through it. The lump that was his father-in-law made a choking sound that only caused Eris to smile darkly. “You are very very lucky your daughter wanted to grant you a little mercy. I don’t consider it in my nature when it comes to filth who overstep their boundaries, especially when you don’t deserve it.” he snarled softly. “I pray you aren’t foolish enough to approach Iris again because I will simply delight in showing you exactly how much I like to let it burn.”

With that, Eris straightened and waved a hand, watching as his sentries dragged what was left of Lord Aron.

Eris let a ragged breath shudder out of him before turning back into their chamber and closing the door behind him. He needed to calm his rage. Calm the level of anger and tension coming off him in waves. He knew the room had heated the moment he stepped back into it but was hesitating to turn around, hesitating to find Iris and see fear in her eyes. Turning slowly, his eyes immediately found his wife who was staring at the spot where her father had been, the flecks of his blood splattered on the floor.

He swallowed hard then cleared his throat and said, “I’ll have someone clean it.”

Iris’s head snapped up to him and Eris paused in place. His throat bobbed at her assessing gaze and he clasped his shaking hands behind his back. He knew he looked rumpled, wild even, and knew he was still running on a lot of anger, his body coursing with so much adrenaline at the way his magic had thrived to be released.

He had always held himself on a tight leash and this wasn’t the way he wanted Iris to see him unrestrained. Not in a way that could instill fear. Only last night she had told him she was still scared and now —

Eris waited, watching her with a look that matched the intensity of what he was feeling. He couldn’t help the cascade of emotions coursing through his body when he looked at her, cataloging how she stood. The feeling of it was about to bring him to his knees. He took a quiet breath, relaxed his shoulders, and let his hands fall to his sides as he waited for Iris to speak.

But he said nothing. And she said nothing.

Iris watched him as he watched her, and a faint sense of dread began to slide its way through his bloodstream. After a moment, she took a hesitant step towards him then froze as her gaze fell to his hands and Eris felt his heart drop. He watched her swallow then turn and silently make her way to their bathroom. He watched her go and waited for a tense moment, wondering if she would lock herself in there to stay away from him. Had he gone too far? Had he scared her?

He swallowed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle her avoiding him again. Not after last night. Not after everything that just happened.

He felt that dread start tingling in his fingertips and make its way steadily up his arms and his chest — he felt too much. And he wasn’t ready for something he had barely begun to enjoy to crumble.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eris x oc #fic: spirit meets the bones #chapter XV

69 notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 6 days

Text

YESSS OMG YES ERIS

Go Eris go Eris Go!

Spirit Meets the Bones - XIV

Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. PLEASE NOTE:This chapter will contain physical abuse with some implied language may be found triggering.

as always, shoutout to my bby @abruisedmuse for being along this journey with me!

Find it all here.

The next morning came and rather than choking him as suggested, Iris had only burrowed into Eris’s body further. He had woken up this morning and laid perfectly still as the heat of her seeped into him, relaxing him in a way he hadn’t been relaxed before.

He hoped the wild beating of his heart didn’t wake her and when she finally did wake, the two had only stared at each other quietly. Until she gave him a small smile and slipped out of bed. No matter that the smile had caused an eruption of flames all over his body.

The flames hadn’t quite simmered down just yet.

“Distracted this morning, aren’t you?”

Eris blinked, returning to the present, and met his mother’s knowing gaze. He scowled, shifting in the seat opposite his mother, steam rising from his cup of tea in front of him. “I’m just thinking about the meeting I have with Father later and the unwelcome visitor arriving.”

Lady Enya’s lips thinned. “Is that why Iris isn’t with you this morning?”

“She’s nervous about her father’s visit and wanted some time to herself.” he said with a twist of his mouth. “But we’ll stop by when we return from visiting Lucien and Elain.”

“Her father won’t be a problem, will he?” Lady Enya asked with a frown, sliding a plate of breakfast pastries toward him. “Cauldron only knows the horrible things I’ve heard about him.”

“For his own livelihood, he better not be a problem.” Eris said with a scoff and sat back in his chair, crossing his legs and waving a hand for his daily reports to appear. “I have no qualms about ending his life.”

“Your father wouldn’t like that.” Enya said with a pointed look over her cup of tea.

“Good.”

His mother chuckled and the two shared a small smile. A few moments of comfortable silence filled the space until Eris felt his mother’s gaze on him and slowly lifted his head, with a quirked brow.

“Is something wrong, mother?”

“Not at all.” she replied, and Eris sat back. “But I am curious.”

“About?” he hedged carefully, and his mother rolled her eyes at his suspicious tone.

Waving a delicate hand in his general direction, she took a sip of her tea then said, “Are you trying a new look?”

He blinked at his mother then squinted. “What?”

“The scruff.” she said with a twitch of her lips.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

Eris tried to ignore the heat rising to his face and cleared his throat. He debated for a moment whether to say something or keep it to himself, but he could feel his mother’s knowing look without even glancing at her. “Iris likes it.” he murmured quietly, quickly taking a sip of his tea and desperately trying to ignore his mother’s grin.

“Does she now?” she asked with an arched brow. “I don’t think you’ve ever considered facial hair before.”

Eris hadn’t actually ever given scruff a chance. He stayed clean-shaven so his father wouldn’t harass him about it but…

He shrugged with as much of a nonchalant air as he could. “I’m trying something new. For myself.”

It had nothing to do with his wife, of course.

Lady Enya took a sip of her own tea, shooting him an incredulous look. “I see.”

Eris waited for a heartbeat, then put the reports down, debating once more whether he should say something else. His mother watched him patiently, so he pursed his lips then casually added, “I’m also considering cutting my hair.”

His mother blinked. “Your hair.”

“My hair, yes.”

“How short are you thinking?”

Eris shrugged again and vaguely waved his hand to the back of his head. “Something just above the shoulders. Maybe. Possibly. I’m unsure.”

“That’s...a big change.” Lady Enya remarked, her lips twitching. “I can’t remember the last time you even got a trim.”

“I get a trim every six months, mother. I am not an uncivilized swine.”

Lady Enya chuckled, then slowly placing her cup of tea on the table, she gave him a sly look. “And would this sudden interest in shortening your hair also be something a certain someone will like?”

Eris willed his skin not to redden further. “No.” he said defensively.

His mother gave him that knowing look of hers.

Eris twisted his mouth and then sighed. “Yes.”

“Ah. I see.” Lady Enya said and Eris scowled at the smirk she wore on her face.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” he mumbled and pulled his reports up once more, using it to shield half his face. “Minor changes. Send a few admirers into a potential cardiac arrest.”

His mother hummed and Eris squinted at her as he lowered the pages again, his scowl deepening.

“Admirers, you say?” she said, her lips twitching. “Funny how you pretend this is about anyone else but your wife.”

“Mother.”

She smiled. “Yes?”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

Lady Enya laughed at that. “Eris. You know I think it’s delightful your wife brings out these kinds of reactions from you.” she said and gave him a pointed look. “It’s good.”

Eris’s mouth twisted again, and he waited for another heartbeat before quietly saying, “Do you think if I cut my hair...I’ll look more like him?”

His mother paused and her expression hardened. “The only thing you share with him is your bloodline. Everything about your face is from me. Your eye shape is mine. Your nose is mine. That mouth of yours is mine. Even your hair is from me.” she said, and Eris’s lips twitched slightly at the fierce protectiveness in her tone. “He will claim you as his son, but you are my son first and foremost. My son who looks like me.”

“My mother’s son through and through, aren’t I.” he said with a soft chuckle.

“Damn right, you are.” Lady Enya said with a huff. “If you decide you want to change your hair, I’m sure you’ll look very handsome. I have no doubt your wife would agree.”

His wife. His wife whom he had finally — fucken finally held in his arms at night.

Eris had nearly blacked out when she had asked to move the pillow. As if he’d say no.

He’d only wanted her in his arms for weeks now and Eris would be damned to rush the very delicate process between them.

But she had asked him. She asked him. And that had made Eris’s battered heart beat wildly at the notion that she now trusted him enough to do it.

Having her sleep in his arms, the feeling of her body flush against his had been as invigorating as he had imagined. She had curled into him, her arm had wrapped around him. And when he had tangled their legs together, she hadn’t hesitated to come closer.

Eris swallowed, nearly losing his mind all over again just thinking about it. He had almost lost his mind when he woke up this morning and found her still in his arms — that it all hadn’t been some wild hallucination of his. He frowned.

This feeling couldn’t be normal. These... severe reactions he kept having. He had been with more than enough people in his lifetime that surely having one female sleep in his arms shouldn’t do this to him.

Whatever this was. Even if this was different from anything he’d ever experienced.

All Eris knew was that he was excited to spend time with her and to have her meet the other important people in his life. He was also looking forward to seeing her face when they returned from their trip to find the gift he had prepared for her. His wife. His.

“Are you alright?” his mother asked him, alarmed and Eris blinked at her.

“What?”

“Your face is as red as your hair.”

Eris’s face heated further and he cleared his throat, pausing for a breath before very, very quietly mumbling, “We had a moment last night.”

Lady Enya blinked then her face erupted into a grin that instantly had Eris tensing. “Did you?”

Eris held up a hand and gave his mother a pointed look. “Say nothing else, mother. We had a moment. It was nice and that is all.”

His mother only chuckled and gave him a pointed look in return. “I doubt that is all.”

Eris pursed his lips and tried not to die as he attempted to describe how he felt to his mother. His grip tightened on the reports. “Clearly,” he began, then cleared his throat again before he continued very softly, “I...like her.”

His mother snorted softly and gave him a sly look. “Like her, hm?” she teased and Eris clenched his jaw, willing himself not to flush further. “That’s a relief, I suppose. Considering you spend every waking moment with her.”

“She’s my wife. And my friend.” he mumbled and tried to avoid looking at his mother’s smile. “I like spending time with her.”

“You would. Her mouth is as filthy as yours.” Lady Enya said with a laugh. “She swears at you so viciously it gives me whiplash.”

Eris’s lips twitched, his eyes still on the reports. “Don’t tell her you’ve heard her swear. She wants you to think she’s a proper lady and likes impressing you.”

“Oh trust me, I’m very impressed.” his mother said and tapped the table gently so he’d meet her softened gaze. Eris lowered his paper shields and his mother didn’t hesitate to softly pat his hand. “You seem more settled around her. I’m happy to see it.”

Eris tensed for a moment then slowly let his shoulders relax. His mother was right, of course. As much of a riot as Iris was, she...seemed to soothe something in him. His mother already knew, there was no sense in pretending otherwise.

“I enjoy her company.” he said quietly and gave his mother a small smile that she gently returned.

“Well. I can’t say I didn’t see it coming.” she said with a smug look and Eris chuckled.

“You always seem to know everything, Mother. One would think you were the Seer and not Elain.” he said with a snort and his mother laughed.

“I can definitely see how your wife might react to shorter hair.” she teased and he rolled his eyes.

“I’d like to think she’ll tolerate me just the same if I didn’t.” he said and his mother’s sly smile had him immediately scowling.

“I’d say she already does more than just tolerate you.” Enya teased again. “But a little change is never a bad idea if you’d like to do it.”

“According to her, it’s the only way I’ll be more dashing than Lucien.” he scoffed and Lady Enya blinked then let out such a hearty laugh that Eris couldn’t help but chuckle along. “Laugh all you want, those were her exact words.”

“She doesn’t even know Lucien, does she?” she said, wiping at her eyes and Eris snorted.

“Apparently, your harlot son’s reputation precedes him.”

Lady Enya rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately, I've been made aware that you both share a similar reputation."

Eris held out his hands in mock innocence. “I am a married male, Mother. I have no idea what you could possibly be referring to.”

“Tell that to the horde of jilted lovers that used to sob at every ball.” his mother said with a snort and Eris fought back a smirk.

“I have only one female to worry about now.” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “The verdict isn’t out on whether she can stand me yet or not.”

His mother gave him a sly look. “Well, based on my observations, I’d say she can stand you just fine.”

“Is that so?”

“A mother knows best.” she said with a wink and Eris chuckled, his eyes back on the reports.

“We shall see.” he said quietly and tried not to let the hope of what was to come take root in his chest, lest it unfurl and break him. Straightening, his expression sobered as he gazed at his mother. “I need to ask you something.”

“Ah daughter, how I’ve missed that look of hatred in your eyes. I never could quite beat it out of you.”

Iris stood rooted in her doorway, desperately trying not to grimace at the smirk plastered on the face of her father, Lord Aron Bertillon. Her heart sputtered in her chest at his wretched face and continued to beat wildly as he pushed past her with a scoff and stepped into her chambers.

She had been free of him for weeks and the moment her eyes fell on him, Iris was paralyzed by him all over again.

Did she shut the door or keep it open? Shut the door or keep it open — Shut the door or keep it open —

“I suggest you shut the door. You know I like my privacy.”

Iris took a breath as a tense beat of silence passed and then turned slightly towards him. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

Her father tsked and turned to smile at her fully. “I am exactly where I want to be.” he said. “Close the door and come over here so I can see you properly.”

Her lips curled in distaste as she watched him survey the room and Iris slowly, reluctantly, closed the door then turned fully towards him.

The silence between them stretched as her father continued to peruse the room, his eyes falling on the neatly made bed and narrowing. Her cheeks flushed.

Finally turning to land his gaze on her, Lord Aron rolled his eyes. “When will you learn that looking at me like that won’t ever help you? I said come here.”

Iris barely inched a step closer. She knew the closer she got, the quicker he’d be. She shifted herself towards the dining table instead. “You never did anything to earn any other kind of look so I don’t know why you’re still surprised.” she muttered.

Her father tutted again, cruel amusement on his face, watching her steps. “Does your husband allow you to look at him like that? I’m surprised you’re still standing if so.”

“Leave my husband out of this.” she snapped before she could help herself and regretted it the moment her father’s brow raised in amusement. He didn’t need to know that Eris mattered to her. That he was important — especially when her father had a tendency to take away anything she cared about.

“Such a faithful whore already? I suppose it makes sense.” he said with a sigh full of scorn as he surveyed her living chambers again. “Good thing you didn’t sully yourself with the riff-raff then...I did hear that Eris likes his virgins.”

Iris grimaced and stopped a good ten feet away from him, her hands fisted at her sides.

He wasn’t supposed to be in here. She was supposed to have met him in an open guest room, where they would be in front of others. Where she would have witnesses. When Eris would be there. But knowing her father, this was exactly how he wanted it.

Knowing her father-in-law, he had allowed it.

“Aren’t you going to invite me to take a seat at your table, daughter? Being the high lord’s daughter-in-law doesn’t excuse you from having manners.” her father sneered softly and Iris’s skin prickled as she glanced at him.

She hated him. She hated him with a fire that would’ve melted the entirety of the Winter Court.

Iris had pictured herself murdering him countless times. She had visualized it happening in so many different ways.

But then he stood in front of her, staring at her with such loathing, and Iris couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t stop the rapid beating of her heart that she knew fueled his glee. Couldn’t stop the way her body locked up around him.

“I prefer we meet outside of my chambers. Eris doesn’t allow anyone in here.” she said simply and her gaze drifted to the bedroom door because Eris should be here. He promised he would be.

“I’m not just anyone.” her father said sweetly and walked a step closer. “I am your father. Surely your husband wouldn’t have any concerns with me being here.”

But he could tell exactly how much Iris despised having him stand in this space, his image tarnishing whatever sanctuary this home had become for her. She clenched her fists tighter.

“He would. And so do I.” Iris replied curtly and gestured towards the door. “I have a space set up for us that we should —”

“I will stay right here, you stupid bitch.” her father snapped and Iris flinched, closing her eyes with a deep breath. She counted to five then opened her eyes to glare at him.

“Don’t speak to me that way.”

“Oh?” he said and took another step closer. “And what will you do about it, daughter?”

The dagger resting on the table a few feet away seemed to glow as if a reminder that she had a weapon close enough. Eris had trained her enough that she could somewhat hold her own but...what would she do against the male standing before her? The male that made her gut twist and bile rise in her throat. The male that made her hate all males.

Eris was starting to become the exception and that thought twisted her gut as well, but in a good way. At least...if he came. If he realized something was wrong and as promised, showed up. Iris straightened, wondering if something had happened to him.

Her stomach dropped and she flexed her fingers. How would he know to come here? Did her father have something to do with it? Did his?

She glanced at the door once more and her father noted the movement, letting out a chuckle.

“Did you think,” he said and took another step towards her. “That because you’re his wife now, I won’t have a say over you? Don’t worry, he won’t be joining us. It’ll be just us, daughter.”

Her heart stuttered at his declaration. How much sway did he have with the High Lord now that he could block Eris from returning to his own room? He wasn’t here even though he had promised. And...Eris had yet to back out on a promise he made her, especially one like this. Especially after last night.

But it didn’t matter. Iris would have to hold her own, just like she always did. She always had been able to deal with her father, even when it hurt. Even as her skin prickled at the thought. Iris’s lips curled in disdain as she shot her father another look of contempt.

“You talk too much, father. Why are you here?”

He chuckled darkly and Iris felt the gooseflesh erupt on her already clammy skin. She warily kept her gaze on his fists.

“I’m here to check on my daughter. To make sure you’re behaving.” he said quietly and came to a stop right in front of her. “Considering you have been declining my requests to see you, I had to take matters into my own hands. Do you not want to see me?”

Iris’s fingers tightened into the folds of her dress as she held his gaze. “I’ve had nothing to say to you.”

It went silent between them as her father stared her down and Iris refused to look away.

“But I’ve had a few things to say to you.” he said quietly and before Iris could blink, his hand had wrapped around her throat and he yanked her closer to him. Iris’s treacherous body froze beneath his hands. “I heard about your loud-mouthing a while ago. I did not appreciate having the High Lord tell me I didn’t know how to raise you well enough to know when to keep your mouth shut.”

Iris sucked in a breath as her father’s grip tightened. “Nothing happened. I apologized.” she said tightly.

Her father quirked a brow. “You apologized?”

“Yes.” she breathed and he narrowed his eyes briefly as his grip tightened further and Iris let out a strangled breath.

“Mm. See, you should’ve kept your mouth shut from the beginning.” he snapped, shoving her back carelessly, and she stumbled away from him. “I will cut your tongue out myself if you do anything else you’re not supposed to. You will not jeopardize my relationship with the High Lord with your stupidity.”

Iris’s hand rubbed at her throat as she glared at her father, her other hand tightening in the folds of her dress, desperately trying to keep her hands away from reaching for the dagger. “I don’t interact with the high lord often for anything else to happen between us so rest assured, I won’t have any sway over your relationship with him.” she replied with a bite in tone.

“Yes, but his son needs to be kept happy.” he said and narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you keeping his son happy?”

Iris tensed and the corner of her father’s mouth lifted as she answered, “His son is fine.”

A beat of silence passed as her father’s gaze pierced her. “Judging by the scent in this room, I’d say not.” Iris flushed and her father’s eyes narrowed further. “I hope he’s not put off by you.”

“That’s none of your business.” she hissed.

“Everything you do is my business, you stupid girl.” he snapped and her fists tightened. “Your obedience is an important factor in keeping my working relationship with our High Lord. I’ve gotten away with so much since this lovely union,” he said, his eyes surveying the room once more. “Or did you think I married you off so you could just enjoy yourself?”

Whatever business her father did, Iris wasn’t privy to it and she never cared to know. All she knew was that he was ruthless in getting what he wanted, in whatever way he could. Be it cheating, stealing, or killing. He was a business tycoon but what kind of business? She didn’t want to know. He was a liar, a thief, and most importantly, he loved his money in whatever way he could get it. As long as it kept him away from her — until now.

She glared. “You mean when you sold me to him?”

The corner of his mouth lifted again and Iris grimaced. “I wanted to offer you to the high lord himself but a marriage to his son was more advantageous.”

Silence filled her mind as she processed her father’s words. He would’ve offered her up just like that to a monster who would’ve —

“You’re disgusting.” she breathed. “He has a wife. He’s triple my age.”

“And he has a preference. I don’t care what he would’ve done with you as long as I reaped the benefits from it.” he snapped then scoffed at her expression. “The point is to tie myself to the High Lord’s family and being the son’s wife is certainly better than being his father’s whore. What is the point of having a daughter if I can’t use you the way I want?”

“You’re disgusting.” she repeated and her father rolled his eyes.

“Yes, yes.” he said with a wave of his hand, dismissing her as he always did. “And yet look at you, married to his handsome son instead. Living in the Forest House with anything you want at your fingertips. You’re welcome.”

Her fists shook at her sides and Iris tried to keep her voice even as she spoke, “The only reason you allowed it is because you think Eris would be worse than you.”

“Isn’t he?” he said then snorted, lifting a hand and Iris barely had a second to grit her teeth as he harshly patted her cheek. “Knowing you, daughter, you certainly deserve whatever comes your way. You’re too proud. Too stubborn. If I can’t beat it out of you, someone else should.”

“Well, you got what you wanted.” she spat and tried to step back from him, backing towards the table. “Why can’t you leave me be now?”

“Leave you be?” he said with the sneer she knew too well. The sneer that always had her on edge. “Why would I do that?”

Iris glared at him again but faster than she could open her mouth to say anything else, her father’s hand was already gripping tightly in her hair, yanking her head back, pulling her closer to him.

“Do you know why I won’t leave you alone? Because I know you’ll embarrass me again. You simply don’t know how to behave.” he muttered and his grip tightened enough to make her gasp. “All I have ever wanted you to do was to keep your mouth shut and do as you are told. Is it so difficult?”

“Get your filthy hands off me.” she snarled and Aron’s lips curled in disdain.

“See? You’re still saying the wrong things.” he said, tugging her head closer. “Do you speak like this to the prince? Are you loud-mouthing him too? I already told him to use a heavy hand with you but it seems it’s not heavy enough.” he breathed and Iris’s jaw clenched, even as tears prickled her eyes. “You better be behaving well enough so that he keeps you. Are you behaving?”

“I’m behaving!” Iris hissed, her hands clawing at his to release her. With a growl of disgust, her father shoved her away again and Iris’s hand flew into her hair, her scalp already tender from his yanking.

“You better be. I will beat you into a pulp if I get one more complaint about you.” Aron snapped and Iris glared at him, hating herself for the tears she blinked back. She took in a shaky breath watching him as he watched her. The father that was no father. The father who only thought of himself. The father who didn’t even think of her as a person. “You are either his wife or you are dead.”

It did not surprise her for a moment that after several weeks of not seeing each other, this was how he behaved.

Mustering whatever little dignity she had left in front of him, Iris ran her hands through her hair, trying to smooth it down. “You gave me your lovely warning,” she said tightly, “You can leave now.”

But her father smiled at her and Iris felt her heart drop.

“But I missed you, daughter. It’s been too long without you near.” her father cooed softly and Iris blanched. “No one bruises quite as beautifully as you do.” And the cruel smile returned to his face as he watched her eyes widen. “Does your husband love the way you bruise as well? I’m sure he takes his time with you.”

Iris’s jaw tightened and she could barely get the words out, fisting her shaky hands. “Leave him out of this.”

“Look at you defending your husband so immediately...you must like it when he bruises you.” her father mused with a smile. “You didn’t seem to like it when I beat you.”

“Stop it.”

“Maybe I just need to beat you in this lovely location for you to enjoy it. Is that what it is?” he said with a chuckle and Iris felt herself pale. “Or is it because he’s a handsome prince, his hands don’t hurt like mine do?”

“Don’t touch me.” she breathed and her father’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do with you, daughter.” he said quietly. “Come here.”

“No.�� she snarled.

“I said, come here.” he snapped, pointing directly in front of him. “Because if I have to come to you, it’ll hurt more. You’ve already tested my patience enough today.”

But Iris held her ground. Her father had been here for a short amount of time and she was already so tired of him. She wanted him gone and away from her. She wanted to pretend he never came and go about her day like this never happened, like she never saw him.

Lord Aron took one step towards her and her hand finally wrapped around the hilt of her dagger resting on the table. Her father’s eyes widened in surprise for only a fraction then his gaze narrowed.

“Oh. This is adorable of you.” he said quietly. “Will you finally gut me the way you’ve always wanted to?”

“I will if you come near me.” she breathed. “Enough. You need to leave now.”

Iris watched him, her chest rising and falling as she tried to swallow, tried to form words. Tried to figure out what to say to this hateful male who sapped any will to live from her. Who instilled fear and self-loathing in her like no other.

Her fingers tightened around her dagger, even as it shook with rage. She wanted to bury it in his chest and watch him bleed out. She wanted —

“You stupid, stupid girl. You never learn.” her father said softly and Iris couldn’t take her eyes off his hateful gaze as he advanced towards her. “A simple request and you can’t even follow through. All this tells me is that you haven’t changed at all. You haven’t learned to behave yet and we...we have to change that. I won’t let you embarrass me in front of the High Lord and his son.”

Iris swallowed and with a glare, spat, “It doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to be like this.”

Her father quirked a brow and tilted his head. “Yes, it does. You just seem too dim to realize it.”

And before Iris could snarl at the words, his hand flew out, backhanding her swiftly and she stumbled back a step with a gasp. She whipped her head to look at him but Lord Aron only yanked her by the hand holding her knife and tightened his grip hard enough that Iris winced.

“Drop the knife.” he growled.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?”

“You deserved it. You talk too much and have too much nerve.” he spat. “Now drop the knife or I will strike you again.”

Iris felt her treacherous lip tremble. Where was Eris? He promised. He promised.

If anything, she needed him to see. So he could understand why she was the way she was. Why she still looked at his fists and why she needed him around her father. She didn’t want to keep facing him alone.

And Eris had promised.

With an impatient growl, Aron bent her hand back, tightening his hold painfully enough that it forced her to drop her dagger. Iris flinched as he released her hand and then backhanded her again with a force that knocked her back into the table hard enough that she knew it would bruise. Her hand flew to her cheek as the sting of the blow hit her — the ring on his hand had cut her lip.

“Stop.”

Her father snarled and his hand flew out once more, this time wrapping around her throat tight enough that Iris choked. She clawed at his hands, trying to stop the panic going through her body because Eris had taught her better — he taught her how to shove it aside and move.

“Now that your silly knife is out of the way, we can continue discussing how everything you do will play into everything I do.” he muttered and smiled, a tight breath escaping her lips as his grip tightened around her throat again. “A few bruises here and there. You can heal them before your husband returns, of course. You know I like a blank canvas.”

Eris.

“No.” she snarled softly and thrashed, landing a kick in his shin that had him hissing. “You don’t get to come here and do this to me anymore. Let me be. Leave me alone.”

“But then who will receive my gifts, daughter? They’ve always been meant for you.” her father cooed softly. “Who else could take it?”

“Why do you keep doing this?” she whispered desperately. “What have I ever done to deserve this?”

“Because you exist. And because I can.” he snapped. “And so you remember that next time I want to come see you, you don’t get to say no.”

With another snarl, she swung at her father and it forced him to let her go. Iris stumbled away from him, landing on the floor behind him instead. She scrambled back and watched as his anger flared through him, seeing how his temper was about to be unleashed on her. She knew the moment he said he was visiting, it would be for nothing else than to do this — to remind her that she was still nothing. She was still no one important enough to stop him from taking out every frustration he had on her.

Where are you, Eris?

She wanted to scream. He was supposed to be here. In her corner. He promised. A few weeks away from her father and Iris still crumbled at the sight of him like this, like a wild animal being hunted. She needed to get off the floor and away from him — she needed to stand but her legs were trembling so badly.

“Did you know, daughter, that the High Lord has special ways to put people in their place?” he spoke softly, and Iris’s fists clenched to stop the shaking. “I think...I will take some pointers from him. Try some things with you to remind you to keep that mouth of yours shut more often. What do you think?”

“I think you’re insane and need to stay away from me.” she snarled, her chest rising and falling in a rapid panic. She needed to move. Get to the door. Once it was open he couldn’t do anything. “I’m not your problem anymore. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I did.” he mused, almost rabid, and took another step towards her as she backed away. “But once you were away from me...I realized in your absence how much I enjoyed controlling you.” He stopped in front of her and slowly crouched, his smile putting her body in a tingling panic. “Do you think if you have a daughter, she’d bruise as beautifully as you do?”

Before he could raise a hand again, their bedroom door flew open and both Iris and her father’s heads snapped to the door.

Eris stood in the doorway, breathing hard and a sense of relief washed over Iris so deeply, she almost sobbed. A fire was blazing in his eyes and almost instantly, the room’s temperature heated.

“Eris.” she choked out and his eyes snapped to her. He silently took in the bruises on her cheeks and handprints on her neck, her ruined hair, the rumpled dress, and her body on the floor with her father crouching over her. His gaze slid over her, assessing, and then landed on the dagger several feet away.

Lord Aron straightened and Eris’s eyes flickered to him.

“Son-in-law. I’m glad you’ve finally arrived.” her father had the nerve to say. “My daughter was, unfortunately, speaking ill of you, which I couldn’t allow, of course. I needed to remind her to mind her tongue.”

“You’re lying!” Iris barked and flinched back as her father glared at her but turned to look at Eris. “He’s lying.”

Eris said nothing but Iris saw his eyes flash then narrow as he took one look at her father and then ignored him completely. Slowly, he stepped into the room and quietly shut the door. Iris watched him as he walked over to her and very calmly lowered himself to face her. Her heart thundered in her chest as he reached out a hand and she flinched back when he tried to touch her cheek. His gaze hardened as her bottom lip trembled slightly and Iris tried not to let him see the embarrassment burning through her, tried not to let him see anything other than her seething anger.

But he seemed to know.

Eris locked eyes with her for a moment, his gaze softening for just a fraction and then with the grace of a predator, Eris turned to look at her father with murderous intent in his eyes.

“I’m going to kill you.”

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eris x oc #fic: spirit meets the bones #chapter XIV

77 notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 10 days

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones - XIII

Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Please be mindful: some implied language may be found triggering.

shoutout to @abruisedmuse always for being my bby <33

Find it all here.

The two waited until the steps drew nearer before Eris said in a detached, cold voice. “I thought I told you I didn’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

“I — I —”

“We’ve been over this. You are not to be seen and not to be heard.”

“Son?”

Eris and Iris looked to find Beron standing before them, brow raised.

“Father.” Eris said calmly, removing his hand from Iris’s throat and then turning to face the High Lord, clasping his hands behind his back. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Iris wasn’t feigning the slight tremor in her hand as she rubbed delicately at her neck. Eris hadn’t gripped her hard, but the sudden movement had caught her off guard.

Her eyes flickered to reason number one to why things were still cautious between them.

Eris’s eyes shifted to her briefly before his eyes met his father’s and he quirked a brow, waiting.

“I was finishing up a meeting and heard you were around these parts.” the High Lord said slowly, his gaze snapping to Iris who slowly slid closer behind him, ever the cowering doll. “I didn’t expect to see Iris with you this late in the evening.”

Iris focused on her feet, on the solid feel of Eris beside her. It was always a game they needed to play around Beron but she still hated it. Hated how a part of her fear wasn’t a lie.

She focused on his hands clasped behind him, his signature stance, and watched the way his fingers fisted then flexed.

“I prefer to keep her close.” Eris said dryly. “It suits my needs.”

Beron snorted, and Iris felt his eyes slide to her as they always did whenever they seemed to be near each other. Her eyes stayed on Eris’s hands that clenched at his father’s snort.

Since that wretched dinner, Eris ensured they avoided his father as much as possible and Iris was all too happy to stay away from the only other male she hated as much as she hated her father.

“I’m sure it does suit your needs to have her nearby.” he almost purred and Iris worked to keep the disgust off her face. “Let’s hope this means I can expect a grandchild sometime in the near future.”

Iris flinched and it seemed to be the response Beron was waiting for. He laughed and Eris only spared her another slight glance over his shoulder then back at his father with a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I will enjoy trying until we do.” he replied and Iris kept her eyes on his hands, flexing once more.

Iris moved closer to Eris, her hands slowly sliding into his and his fingers immediately closed around hers. Beron kept talking, speaking in that nasty, oily tone that made the bile rise in her throat but she ignored him completely, focusing only on the feel of Eris’s fingers intertwined with hers. She focused on the feeling of his thumb caressing the back of her hand and letting her thumb rub into his palm.

Iris envisioned all the open wounds she could leave in the High Lord’s chest on a daily basis, the joy of watching him bleed out making a moment like this passable.

“Are you listening, Iris? Your father is coming to see you tomorrow morning.”

Iris’s head jolted up and her grip tightened on Eris’s hand, her eyes wide as Beron smirked at her.

“Why?” she breathed, and Eris squeezed her hand tightly.

“Why? To check on his precious daughter. Make sure we’re treating you well.” he said with a pointed look. “And I’m afraid this time, he won’t take no for an answer. Neither will I.”

Iris heard the threat in his words and knew Eris had as well – for they had been declining or altogether ignoring any request to visit from her father. Eris had only asked her once, the first time they received a request, if she’d like to see him. Iris had said no and her answer remained the same. Even when Beron had specifically told them to accommodate him, Eris always found a way around it. But it seemed that their avoidance was coming to an end, especially with the look Beron gave them.

The High Lord’s eyes examined Iris slowly and she fought the strong urge not to fidget before his eyes landed on his son once more. “You’ve done a decent job with her.”

Eris nodded tightly. “I do my job well, Father. No worries.”

Beron took one look at the two of them and let his gaze pierce into Iris, a cruel smile on his face.

“You’re doing much better, Iris. Quiet is the best way for a wife to be.” he added and brushed past them as Eris turned to keep Iris firmly behind him. “While her father is here, I’ll need you to survey the new structural plans for our southwest territory. We should give them some quality time together.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sure Iris would love that.” Eris said and again, briefly looked over his shoulder at her again. “Right, wife?”

Iris nodded mutely, her heart thundering in her chest because the idea of her father coming to see her for any other reason than to taunt and rip into her was laughable.

Beron surveyed them both again and seemingly approving of his daughter-in-law shrinking behind his son, he looked at Eris again.

“Shave your face. You look like a mongrel.” He scoffed at his son then waved them off and kept walking. Only when the High Lord had turned down the hall and ten minutes of silence had passed, did Eris slowly turn around to face his wife, his hand still holding hers.

Though she avoided his gaze, Iris felt how his eyes slowly scanned her and she let him, her throat bobbing. His free hand steadily went to her chin and he lifted it to meet his gaze. Amber eyes met hazel and Eris allowed himself one moment to feel the softness of her cheek beneath his touch, then let his fingers slide to her throat for another moment, his thumb resting on her pulse point as she looked at him. She looked at him, at the question he was asking, and nodded before he pulled back.

“I’m sorry for where my hand went,” he murmured. “What do you need me to say to make this moment easier?”

Iris swallowed and shook her head. He hadn’t hurt her at all and she knew why he did it. Let Beron believe what he wanted as long as he left them alone. She licked her lips. “He really thinks you’ve broken my spirit, doesn’t he?” she asked quietly.

“He firmly believes you’re a handful.” Eris replied and the corner of his mouth went up slightly. “Which isn’t wrong. You are very much a piece of work.”

Iris huffed out a shaky laugh and looked down, her eyes zeroing in on their linked hands. She shook her head again. “It still makes me sick that we haven’t been married for that long and he’s absolutely fine with you treating your wife like that.”

“He treats his own wife like that. It’s what he would expect.” Eris said tightly and Iris looked up at him. “But right now, it’s just you and me.”

“Just you and me.” she repeated. A heartbeat of silent understanding passed between the husband and wife, an understanding that seemed to run much deeper than either of them expected.

Eris didn’t let go of her hand and Iris didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry.” he said again softly, and she shook her head.

“It’s his fault. It’s always their fault.” she said, a small frown forming on her lips.

Eris waited, watching her struggle with her thoughts, watching as her brow furrowed. Iris looked up at him then back down at their joined hands then back up at him.

“What is it?” he said, the question a caress but Iris shook her head, tension coming off her in waves.

“Can we go back to our room? I need a moment.” she asked quietly, and Eris frowned but nodded.

“Of course.”

And though she didn’t say a word as they walked back, her hand remained intertwined with his. He wasn’t sure what to say or how to make her feel better so Eris said nothing, content to hold her hand and run his thumb across it.

When they returned, she spared him a small, tired smile and silently slipped into the bathroom, sleeping clothes in her hand. Eris watched as the door closed, his hand twitching at his sides, and only when their designated guest of the night, Lyra, nudged his hand with her head did he realize how rigidly he’d been standing.

“She’s upset. I’m not sure what to do,” he mumbled to his hound who whined softly. “Go sit by the door. Maybe you can get her to smile.”

Eris watched his hound go to the door and sit obediently, wagging its tail in a way that matched his own anxiousness.

He distracted himself as he got ready for bed, his eyes drifting to the bathroom door, waiting for her to return. Eris felt her distress and it troubled him that he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason. His father. Him. Her father. Him.

As he finally settled down in their bed, Iris stepped out, dressed in a silk cream-colored slip that reached her ankles, something he hadn’t seen her wear before, and if the situation had been any different, he would’ve been very interested in inspecting it more up close.

But she still wasn’t looking at him and even though she’d given Lyra a small smile and a pat, her expression had fallen too quickly for it to have mattered.

Eris watched her closely as Iris finally slipped into their bed silently and didn’t dare move as she sat next to him, closer than usual, her back against the headboard.

He waited.

Iris focused on feeling the smoothness of the sheets beneath her, on Lyra now shifting in the bed near her, knowing Eris was watching her but she still hesitated to speak. Lyra wrapped herself near her legs, nuzzling against Iris but it didn’t help ease the tightness in her body. After a moment of silence, Eris finally spoke.

“Was it me?” he asked her quietly and her eyes flickered up to his, his expression tense and Iris shook her head. “Then what is it?”

He had shifted to rest his back against the headboard also, close enough to read her every breath but far enough that he didn’t impose on her space.

Iris’s gaze drifted to the wall behind Eris and after a moment, she mumbled, “My father is coming.”

Understanding dawned on her husband’s face and his mouth went into a thin line. “It was bound to happen, unfortunately. We can only reject his request so many times.”

“His reason is a lie.” she choked out and Eris’s eyes hardened as she met his gaze. “He’s a liar and I know he isn’t looking for hugs.” Iris swallowed and her expression slipped. “I don’t want to be alone with him,” she whispered. “It hasn’t been that long but — but being away from him helped me forget about him for a while.”

Then Iris took a breath and hesitantly reached out into the space between them, her fingers gently touching his hand. “But it’s been long enough that I know his palm is itching for me. I know him. I know the way he thinks.” she continued and swallowed again. She looked up at Eris and her face burned knowing the pleading look in her eyes. “Do you — will you stay with me when he’s here? If — if it doesn’t cause you trouble?”

"How badly do you think this is going to go?" he asked her curiously and Iris knew he scented the shot of fear that pumped through her veins.

"Very badly."

Eris narrowed his eyes at her, and she felt him go unnaturally still. She watched his eyes as they watched her and could almost see his mind calculating. It only made her flush deeper, her embarrassment rising.

“Never mind — I shouldn’t have asked.” she quickly said and pulled her hand away from his. “You can’t risk it and I can handle my father. It’ll be fine —”

Eris gently but firmly grabbed her hand and slowly pulled her closer to him until there was only a breath of space between them. Iris looked up at him in surprise but he only met her gaze, unflinching.

If he moved a fraction, his lips would be on hers.

“You can always ask and my answer will always be yes.” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I told you. You are my wife. I do not take kindly to anyone speaking to you in a way that isn’t respectful. Let alone anyone trying to lay a hand on you.”

Iris tried not to shudder at the words. At the promise. “I don’t want you to get in trouble with your father if you don’t follow through on his request.”

“I know how to run my court. I need only ask and it will be done without me leaving your side.”

A heartbeat of silence passed then Iris swallowed.

“So...you’ll stay with me?” she breathed.

“I’ll be there.” he promised.

Iris’s shoulders sagged and she allowed herself a moment — just one moment to lean into him. To feel his solid strength beneath her. To remind herself that she wasn’t alone.

“Thank you.” she whispered and when she looked up at him again, her husband gave her a small smile. A smile seemingly reserved just for her.

“Wear something indecent to bed tomorrow and I’ll consider us even.”

Her lips twitched at his words, fighting back a smile. “This is still too modest for you?” she said quietly, her free hand feeling the material of her slip and Eris’s eyes flickered briefly to her fingers sliding on the silk before he met her gaze again. “It’s — it’s something new.”

“I like it. A lot.” he muttered quietly. “But any piece of clothing hiding your body from me is something I consider too modest.” he added all too softly, curling a strand of hair behind her ear.

Iris stared at him without flinching as they shared a breath, shivering slightly at the feel of his fingers, and the urge to kiss him slammed into her full force. All she needed to do was lean in and their lips would meet.

Eris hadn’t moved except to bring his free hand back to his side as the thoughts crashed into her, waiting — waiting to see what she would do and Iris wasn’t sure if she would be the one to handle it if she kissed him right now.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Eris stated quietly. “Remember we are in our bedroom and I will move very quickly.”

Color warmed her cheeks. “Why would you assume I’m thinking about something that will lead down that road?”

“Because you’re looking at me the way I’m always looking at you.” he said and the corner of his mouth lifted as her flush deepened.

“What if I’m thinking about how I want to smother you with a pillow?”

“If you’re straddling me while doing it, I’ll take it.”

Iris let out a small laugh, finally breaking his gaze. “You’re so annoying.”

“If I didn’t know any better, wife, I’d say you are incredibly obsessed with me.” he said, his voice dropping an octave and Eris let his hand slide up then back down her bare arm, enjoying the sight of the small smile on her face. “It’s okay to admit it.”

“No.” she said with a playful shake of her head, willing herself not to blush as she felt his hand warming the skin of her arm. “You’re not really my type.”

“Is that so?” he said with a snort and let his hand slide back to hers, gently squeezing. “I’d say with how much you stare at me, you are simply infatuated.”

Iris hummed, fighting back another smile and failing. “I’m really only sticking around for the hounds.” she said and Eris put a hand over his heart.

“You wound me, little gazelle. And here I thought I had you head over heels for me.”

“Mmm, no,” she said with a small smile and slowly pulled away, not trusting herself to hold back from doing more. “I’m head over heels for the puppy sitting right here.”

“Not a puppy.” he corrected, his hand still curled around the ghost of her fingers as Lyra’s head shot up and the hound whined.

“A big puppy,” she confirmed and slid back, until she was safely on her side of the bed, her heart thundering and a pillow between them again. She tried not to let the slight disappointment in Eris’s expression shake her as she patted the pillow between them gently, “Lyra, come protect me. Your father has an inappropriate look in his eyes.”

Eris only watched his wife, eyes narrowed and he desperately tried not to smile as Iris watched him too, with Lyra obediently resting her body between them. His eyes flickered to the hound.

“Traitor.” he mumbled, then looked at his wife and gave an exaggerated sigh, his hand rubbing at his face. He wanted to do anything to keep her from pushing him away, anything to keep her somewhat distracted from her father’s stupid visit. So he added, “It’s because I look like a mongrel, isn’t it? My father seems to hate it.”

A light shade of pink blossomed on Iris’s cheeks as she looked at Eris then quickly averted her eyes. “If your father hates it, you must be doing something right.” she said airily and Eris quirked a brow.

“Is that so.” he said and a small smirk graced his face as Iris’s blush deepened. “Do you, perhaps, like this mongrel look, wife?”

“I don’t like anything about you.” she replied immediately and even Lyra huffed when Eris laughed.

“You’re such a beautiful liar.” he snickered and finally, slid himself to relax against his pillow, Lyra’s large body between them.

It was quiet for a few moments before Iris spoke again.

“I think it suits you.” she said quietly.

“I can tell. You’ve been undressing me with your eyes this whole week.”

“If you really want to be more dashing than Lucien though —”

“I beg your pardon —” he immediately protested, shooting up on his elbows.

“ — I think you should think about updating your hair.”

Eris blinked. “My hair.”

Iris slowly stroked Lyra, her eyes fully on the hound and avoiding Eris’s gaze, even though her heated cheeks gave away her thoughts.

Eris’s lips twitched. “Would you prefer me with shorter hair, wife?”

Iris bit the inside of her cheek, looking at him then looking away again. “Would you like your hair shorter?”

Eris shrugged, a hand running through his locks. “I haven’t really thought about it. I’m merely used to it at this length.” he said, his eyes watching her.

“You’ve had the same look for some time, haven’t you?” she said with as much of a nonchalant air as she could manage. “You’re a married male now. You should update something about yourself otherwise I’ll get bored very quickly.”

Eris’s smirk widened. “Ah. So that’s what this is about.”

Iris finally looked at him with a quirked brow. “What is it about?”

“You want to make sure my past dalliances don’t think they stand a chance now.” he said and Iris rolled her eyes. “Make sure they know I’m yours, hm?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what it is.” she deadpanned.

“You could leave a hickey and they’ll know for sure.” he said with a grin.

Iris sighed then cupped Lyra’s face. “Can you kick him for me? He’s being annoying.”

“Kick me and I’ll skip your next turn and let Sirius have two.” Eris warned, pointing one finger at the hound who whined in return.

Iris tutted and hugged Lyra closer, squinting at Eris. “So mean.”

“You’re the one who won’t give your husband a well-deserved hickey.”

“Bold of you to assume you deserve anything.”

Eris smirked at her and Iris didn’t like the look on his face one bit.

“If you lift your slip and show me some skin, I’ll let you cut my hair.”

Iris snorted. “Who said I wanted to touch your hair?”

“Oh wife, I know you want to touch me in many places.”

Iris pursed her lips, her flushed cheeks heating further but she refused to look away from him, refused to let him and his stupid smirk win. Sure, she wanted to touch him. In fact, lately, all she had been thinking about was touching him. But that would mean he’d get what he wanted. And well…Iris didn’t want to give him that just yet.

Without breaking eye contact, Iris slid her foot closer to him and Eris’s attention immediately zeroed in on the bare ankle as she slid her foot up his leg slowly, the slip riding up with it, showing much more of her soft skin than he was accustomed to.

“You couldn’t handle me touching you in all the places I want to.” she confessed softly and with a small coy smile, she slowly slid her foot back down his leg then immediately turned, giving him her back, shielding herself and Lyra with the covers.

Eris prided himself on many things but trying to avoid his scent changing around his wife was not one of them.

“You play so dirty.” he said miserably and Iris laughed softly.

She turned on her stomach, facing him again and watched Eris curiously. He tilted his face and watched her watch him, as they almost always ended up doing each night.

A beat of silence passed then —

“A question for a question.” he said, his voice low and Iris paused, color blooming on her cheeks.

“A question for a question.” she repeated quietly.

“What are you thinking about right now?” he asked, turning his body to face her, resting on his elbow.

She watched him, her gaze roaming his handsome face, dipping to his lips for a split second before meeting his eyes again. “I’m thinking…” she began and swallowed, her heart in her throat. “That the Eris I’ve been getting to know is one I don’t mind being around so much.”

She glanced down at his hand resting on Lyra, only inches away from hers then met his eyes once more. “I’m thinking that...even though I’m used to my father and I’ll take whatever he throws at me,” she whispered. “I feel a little braver knowing you’ll be there.”

Eris’s gaze hardened. “If you think I will allow your father to lay a hand on you, you must not have taken my word seriously.”

“I do.” she said softly, the corner of her mouth ticking up then down. “I just don’t think he will.”

“He won’t have a choice. He isn’t allowed in here.”

It was that tone that had Iris’s eyes glued to his face. The way he spoke left no room for discussion, the threat crystal clear. It was this tone that had her licking her lips before very, very quietly adding, “I’m also thinking that I would like to kiss you but I’m scared and it — it feels like too much.”

Eris’s brows lifted slightly, hesitation in his stare. “Why are you still scared, little gazelle?” he asked.

Iris bit her lip and fell silent for a moment, the thundering of her heart as steady and loud as his. She shook her head without answering and looked away as she asked, “What are you thinking about?”

Eris’s eyes seemed to be memorizing every inch of her face as he pondered her question.

“I’m thinking,” Eris began, his voice dropping an octave. “That I would really like to kiss you too but if I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” he said simply and Iris’s heart began beating even more wildly in her chest. “I’m thinking about how I don’t think you’ve been kissed the way I want to kiss you and it excites me more than it should.”

Iris looked away, feeling heat pool low in her stomach. She glanced at Eris through her lashes, at the look in his eyes and softly asked, “How would you kiss me?”

“That’s something I’d have to show you because words...will fail me, Iris.” he said, the corner of his mouth ticking up then went down just as quickly. “But I don’t want you to be afraid of me. Of anything we would do together.”

Iris turned her body once more, to face him, Lyra resting on the pillow between them. Iris looked away from him and bit her lip, wanting to tell him — the real reason she was so terrified.

She met his gaze and found him watching her the way he always did — intensely, like she was a message written in a secret code he had to decipher; like he couldn’t look anywhere else, his attention undivided on her.

And it was because he looked at her like this. Like she carried his world in her palm. Like she was his salvation. Like she was important. She was petrified because he looked at her like she meant more and Iris wasn’t ready for how badly it was going to hurt when he eventually got tired of that mouth of hers. She shook her head once more.

“I’m not afraid of you.” she said quietly and gave him a small smile when he frowned but couldn’t bring herself to say more about it. “If I don’t give you a kiss, will you abandon me tomorrow?”

Eris narrowed his eyes at her then scoffed when he saw that she was teasing. “You could stab me in the balls and I’d still be there.”

Iris gave him a pointed look, her fingers flexing slightly and he squinted.

“Don’t even think about it, Iris.”

She laughed, feeling the weight of her wretched father’s visit ease off her chest slightly.

“Your heart just skipped a beat at the thought, didn't it, you feral little cat.” he said with a snort, but his lips were curved up as he spoke. Iris lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug.

“You’re the one that suggested it.” she said innocently. “It would be a great way to test all my new healing skills on you.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “Of course it would.” he said with another snort then gave her a sneaky look. “It also runs the risk of ruining any future pleasure you might have.”

It was Iris’s turn to roll her eyes, even as she flushed. “I can pleasure myself perfectly fine on my own, husband.”

“Can you now?”

“A girl has to know her own body before allowing others the privilege of being near it.” she said with pursed lips. “Wouldn’t want to be disappointed.”

Eris slowly smirked and Iris wanted to melt into the sheets as he said in a voice too sinful with such little space between them, “You and I both know there would be no disappointment between us on that end.”

Iris bit her lip as the scent in the room shifted slightly. She wasn’t sure who the culprit was between the two of them.

Iris tilted her head, watching him. “You’re so confident I’ll enjoy it.”

“I wouldn't rest until you did.”

And she knew what his tone meant. She could ask Lyra to move and find out exactly what he meant as soon as tonight. Her heart thundered in her chest and Eris watched her, his one brow quirked. All she had to do was say the word.

But she wasn’t ready for the fire in his veins to be unleashed on her. Iris wasn’t sure she could handle him following up on his many promises just yet.

Iris could only glance at him silently, feeling the heat blooming on her cheeks.

Eris chuckled at her silence and the sound danced across her skin as Iris watched him shift, getting comfortable on his side, facing her.

“Lyra, I’ll need you to protect me now. Your mother has the filthiest look in her eyes.”

Lyra whined playfully as Iris huffed in disbelief but only shook her head, a small smile on her face.

“You wish, you mongrel.” she mumbled but the words had no heat as Eris only smirked at her.

“Mongrel I may be, but I am still your husband.” he said and Iris stilled when he reached a hand to toy with a hair strand fanned out on her pillow. She watched as his fingers toyed with her hair, his gaze meeting hers and her heart caught in her throat. She may not be quite brave for something more right now but...

“A question for a question.” she whispered before she could stop herself and Eris’s fingers stilled.

“Yes?” his response barely above her own whisper.

She licked her lips and her flush deepened, knowing his eyes had cataloged the movement. She certainly could settle for being a little closer at least.

“If I ask Lyra to move...will you behave yourself?”

Her eyes didn’t leave Eris’s face as he froze and Iris had never craved to be a mind reader more than she did at this moment.

A heartbeat passed before the corner of his wicked mouth ticked up and he said in a low voice, “Lyra. Move to the end of the bed, please.”

Iris’s heart beat rapidly as the hound obediently moved, leaving only one pillow between them now. Willing herself not to flush further, Iris shifted an inch closer, her fingers tightening on the pillow.

“Is this okay?” she asked and Eris gave her a knowing smile, his eyes drinking in the sight of her — as if seeing her this up close was undoing him as it was her. And she had barely moved.

“You know I want you closer.”

“I know.”

“Then come closer.”

The request was nearly a purr and Iris felt herself near a cardiac arrest at the tone. Eris Vanserra was dangerous for many reasons but him speaking to her in that tone would be the most dangerous thing of all.

Iris toyed with the corner of the pillow, her gaze shifting from his face to the pillow then back to him. “What are you going to do if I move the pillow?” she whispered, watching him as he watched her every breath.

She watched him lick his lips — felt him hesitate for a moment, before very, very softly saying, “I’d like to hold you. If you’ll let me.”

Iris stilled once more, hearing the vulnerability in the statement. How much he seemed to need it. How much he wanted it.

How long had it been since he’d held someone?

How long had it been since someone had held her?

Iris swallowed, realizing just how much she wanted it as well. It was as if he was reading her mind, knowing how much she needed to be held tonight.

She bit her lip, her heartbeat erratic as she slowly moved the pillow between them to settle it behind her instead. Iris faced him and her eyes fell to the way his fingers twitched at his side; she couldn't help but chuckle.

“There.” she said quietly, settling on her side, closer to him than ever before. “No more pillow barricades.”

“No more pillow barricades.” he repeated then paused once more, a question in his eyes.

Iris hesitated just for a moment, and Eris only tilted his head, watching her and waiting. She swallowed and reminded herself that it was alright. That she was safe with him. That she wanted to be held. And he wanted to hold her.

Finally, she nodded and watched the corner of his mouth lift as he slowly slid a hand up her bare arm then let his fingers trail down her arm again, his eyes never leaving hers. They lit up in amusement when she involuntarily shivered and Iris could only let out a soft gasp as within a split second, Eris had pulled her body flush against his, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Every inch of her was lined up to every inch of him and she felt the breath leave her body.

There was no space between them and Iris didn’t know what to do with herself as she nervously shifted, tilting her head to look at him, their lips once again in so many moments, only inches apart.

“I don’t know what to do with my hands.” she whispered and her cheeks flushed as his gaze uncharacteristically softened.

With a gentleness that made her throat tighten, he moved his hand from her waist and bought each of her hands to rest on his chest.

“Right here is just fine.” he murmured and though she hesitated again for a moment, Iris settled her hands where he put them, her fingers spreading slightly as she felt his toned body through the thin material of his shirt. She didn’t know if she was grateful for it or loathed the sight of it.

Tilting her head once more to look at him, she kept her eyes on his as Eris slid his arm back across her waist, tightening around her and Iris felt gooseflesh erupt on every inch of her.

“Is this okay?” he asked, squeezing her gently and the only thing that anchored Iris to this feeling was the wild beating of his heart that matched her own, a steady rhythm beneath her fingers that mirrored hers. She nodded silently, licking her lips before looking back down at her hands. Her hands that now rested on her husband’s chest.

Her husband whom she had never been this close to. Glancing back at him, Iris knew without either of them saying a word that this moment shifted something deeply between them. They were diving into a territory of feelings neither of them were prepared for but right here, right now, this moment was theirs. This moment where everything felt so right.

She hoped he couldn’t hear how loud her heart was beating and with heated cheeks, Iris looked at him with a small playful smile. “My hands are awfully close to your neck.”

Eris chuckled and she felt him tangle a leg around hers, the movement so natural it was unthought of that they hadn’t slept like this before. “I could snap your spine without a second thought.” He said with a twitch of his lips, the arm around her waist squeezing once more and Iris blinked then let out a huff of a laugh.

“Romantic, aren't we.”

“What is romance if not pain mixed with pleasure?” He said with a lazy smirk and Iris rolled her eyes. “I’d say threatening your partner constantly is the height of romance.”

“And I’d say I am deeply concerned about your thought process.”

“I thought you were the one who wanted to smother me with a pillow earlier? And with your hands just now?” He said with a pointed look. “Obsessed with my neck, you are.”

“It’s so…chokeable.” She whispered and felt his chest rumble with soft laughter. “My bare hands would feel more satisfying, I think.”

Eris’s eyes didn’t leave her face as she watched him fight back a smile before shaking his head then pulling her even closer to him, until she simply had no choice but to nuzzle her head into his chest.

“Tomorrow.” he murmured into the top of her head. “You can choke me tomorrow morning to your heart's content.”

Iris smiled into his chest and as his leg wrapped around hers, she slipped a hand around his waist and tugged him into her just as he had tugged her into him. She wouldn’t face tomorrow alone. He would be with her. And the thought settled her just as easily as her battered spirit had settled in his arms.

And for the first time, the husband and wife fell asleep wrapped in each other. The sound of his heart thumping a lullaby just for her and the feel of her in his arms a soothing balm to his aching bones.

#fic: spirit meets the bones #chapter XIII #i love them #🥺🥺🥺 ERIS AND IRIS #eris vanserra #eris x oc

62 notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 13 days

Text

I LOVED this chapter 👏👏😌😌😍😍

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part X

Find Part I here :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 /

Elain had not slept well.

Once again she had taken to sleeping curled up on the armchair by the fireplace in the suite she shared with Lucien. Elain could still feel the ghost of his defeat as she practically forced him to take the bed for the second night in a row, this time for entirely different reasons.

When they had returned from the library, without Cora to break their awkward silence, Lucien had quietly asked Elain whether she wanted to sleep more comfortably. He correctly guessed that she had had a restless night, considering the events of the last couple of days.

Elain found Lucien’s genuine concern charming. Had she not felt his muted emotions so strongly, she would have accused him of feigning such kindness.

Elain was not shy when it came to politely slighting men she did not care for, a skill she had learned in the ballrooms of her childhood and had carefully honed as an adult. When it came to Lucien, Elain could admit that he had suffered her forced indifference for years without so much as the slightest bend on her part.

Elain’s mind had been entirely made up with regards to the man the fates had seen fit to curse her with. She did not want a mate, and so she would go about her life as if Lucien Vanserra did not exist.

Elain’s decision was always infinitely more difficult when Lucien was near, his scent lingered in the air of every room he stepped into, sweet apples and summer mornings. Elain would have taken the bed had she not been gripped with horror at the awful realisation that the sheets, the pillows, would smell as he did.

Elain knew it would have driven her mad, and so she lifted her chin and set her jaw before she practically ordered that Lucien take the bed. Much to Elain’s surprise, he did not argue, but she could feel a steady sadness leaking down their shared bond.

Elain had slept fitfully, but at least no dreams had plagued her, and for that she was thankful.

As Elain beheld her reflection in the towering mirror, she was also thankful that despite her restless night, she looked as lovely and refreshed as ever.

Elain still tended to avoid mirrors. The faerie she now saw resembled the woman she had been before, disconcerting in their similarities and yet unsettling in their differences. Elain would not have recognized herself in passing. She saw the way her lips tugged down at the corners, misery marred her expression, beautiful despite it.

“Autumn’s colours suit you, Elain Archeron of Night.” If Eris saw the tightness around her mouth, he did not mention it. Elain watched the way his amber eyes flashed in amusement through the mirror’s reflection.

Even Elain could admit that Eris was right, the deep emerald colour of her gown matched well with her dark eyes. The golden details along the sleeves shone as bright as some of the sun bleached curls Cora had so carefully pinned back for her, the column of her neck exposed. The corset Cora had laced for Elain was comfortable, her breaths easy, heavy skirts fell to the floor, hiding slippers made from the same fabric.

“You could be a queen,” Cora said sincerely, nodding in agreement with Eris’s statement. “All you’re missing is a crown.”

Elain hoped that the High Lord of Autumn would think the same. She was nervous, her own anxiety mixing with Lucien’s as the time passed slowly and they both began to get ready separately for the welcome Beron had planned for the son he had exiled.

Elain prayed that attending balls in the Hewn City had prepared her for the long evening ahead, and hoped that she could muster Feyre’s confidence and the smallest bit of Nesta’s poise. She found herself missing her sisters desperately. She missed Cassian, Rhysand, Azriel and his quiet but friendly presence. She missed Nyx most of all, discouraged without her family’s steady and constant support and love.

Elain tore her gaze from the mirror, no longer able to bear the sight. “Thank you for all the help,” she said rather weakly, hoping her smile looked genuine as she faced her lady’s maid.

Cora would also be joining the celebrations, and Elain was infinitely grateful for the other woman’s willingness to remain by her side. She wondered what Cora had said to Eris to convince him so easily that she should be present, but Elain quickly pushed the thought aside, promising to herself that she would bring it up when they were alone.

“Do yourself, and those forced to be in your presence, a favour, Elain,” Eris continued, stepping so close she could see every sparkling diamond along the arch of his ear. “Never wear Night Court colours again, they drain you of all life.”

Elain looked up at Eris briefly, fighting the childlike urge to cross her arms at him. She focused on straightening her skirts, her movements elegant. “I think that’s just your presence,” Elain mumbled, the words low enough she could deny them if they had offended the arrogant prince.

Cora and Elain shared a surprised glance at the amused breath Eris released, not quite a laugh, but certainly charmed. She could have sworn that one corner of his mouth tilted up in the smallest of smiles, a glimmer of joy in his usually empty eyes. Had Elain blinked, she would have missed it.

Elain noticed the way Cora’s dark eyes remained on the Autumn heir longer than usual, as her gaze slowly took him in. He was handsome, Elain supposed, in the strange way that the High Fae so often were.

“No crown for you just yet, Elain,” expression once again serious, Eris lifted his hands just slightly, pale palms up. For an awkward moment, Elain wondered if she was supposed to do the same. Elain jumped, startled, when Eris summoned a small wooden box from thin air into his ready hands.

The rubies on the ring’s of each of Eris’s fingers flashed in the light of the setting sun as he handed Elain the box carefully. She had not known what to expect, but she could not help the surprised parting of her lips as she opened the lid.

Elain traced the stunning comb, the gold shining, the metal looked as though it had just been polished. Shaped like the branch of a tree, little pearls were evenly placed between the small leaves. “This is…” Elain truly had no words, the accessory was so lovely, she went to lift the comb from the box, but Eris clicked his tongue in warning.

“Careful of the teeth, you’ll find they happen to be much sharper than expected.”

Elain paused, eyes flicking to Eris before she lifted the comb from its case. “A weapon?” she asked, disbelief in her tone.

Eris shrugged, the wine red fabric of his jacket straining with the motion. “I don’t suppose they taught you how to handle a dagger in the Night Court?” Elain shook her head at him, and he did not seem surprised by her admission. With a wave of his hand, the case disappeared and Elain was left with just the comb in her hand. “Then this is better, should someone bother you, aim for the eyes.”

Elain’s own eyes widened at the thought. “Do you – I mean, is it likely that I would need this at all?” She was uncomfortable with the suggestion that she might need to fight someone. If Eris had hoped to settle her nerves, he was achieving the opposite.

Eris raised an auburn brow, scowling as he responded. “You’re not in the City of Starlight anymore, Elain. I’ll tell you now and you would do well to remember this piece of advice for the remainder of your stay in Autumn. Be armed always.”

Elain felt her panic as it choked her. She merely nodded, knowing that if she spoke her voice would have been small with fear.

“Don’t worry,” Cora interjected, rushing to reassure Elain. “Lucien will be with you at all times, I doubt any harm would come to us with him by our side.”

“I doubt you, too, would need Lucien’s protection, considering you’ve been armed to the teeth since you stepped foot onto these lands,” Eris clipped.

Cora cast a withering glare at Eris, tension in her shoulders at his sharp tone. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Elain still held the comb in her hand, her gaze flicking between the two, wondering if Eris would send the other woman home if he was always so annoyed with her presence.

“I don’t even fault you for it,” Eris offered, his voice quiet and measured, but his eyes assessed Cora’s stance closely. “I just wonder how a lady’s maid from the Hewn City got her lovely hands on blades of Illyrian steel.”

Elain watched as Cora opened her mouth, ready to respond, but at the quick knock on the door, everyone seemed to pause.

“Elain?” Lucien’s deep voice was muffled by the thick oak separating them. Elain was relieved that her mate had arrived. “Are you ready?” He asked.

Cora and Eris were still locked in a silent battle, glaring at each other. If Elain had known Eris better, she might have even said that he looked pleased with himself. “Come in,” Elain called.

Again Lucien chose to winnow into the room, his presence overwhelming. When Elain was not near her mate, it was easier to ignore the bond. The only problem, Elain had noticed, was that once they shared the same space, warring feelings crashed over her like a wave.

You are mine.

The thought was so jarring, and yet Elain could admit that it was not as troubling as it had been at the beginning, during the war with Hybern and the months that followed. Elain was captivated by him, the bond demanding that she pay attention every time he walked into a room despite her best efforts.

Elain wondered if she would have felt the same without the bond connecting her to Lucien.

Elain thought her mate was beautiful. His dark red hair fell loosely around his face, golden eye clicking into place as the russet one fell on her. She watched as Lucien took a sharp breath, as he stopped moving entirely. Elain took a step back, knocking into Eris.

The action was enough for Lucien to shake his head, for her to refocus. Elain took in Lucien’s attire to distract herself. She started with Lucien’s tall riding boots, brown pants hugged his thighs. Elain felt herself blush as she quickly looked at his jacket, an emerald green the same colour as her gown.

Lucien bent just slightly at the waist in greeting. “You look beautiful.”

Elain could not look away from him, at the way his lips curled up into a knowing smile.

You are mine.

Eris cleared his throat and Elain waved her hand awkwardly in Lucien’s general direction. “So do you,” Elain said. As soon as the words left her mouth, Elain found herself wishing she could throw herself into a lake and simply sink to the bottom for all of eternity.

Elain looked to Cora, mortified, but the other woman flashed Elain an encouraging grin. Elain felt the tips of her pointed ears heat.

Lucien politely pretended not to notice, stepping further into the room. He might have said something had Eris not. “I should leave,” he announced, his amber gaze going from Lucien to Cora. “You should join me.” The tone of his voice suggested he would not be accepting no for an answer.

“Is the heir of the Autumn Court going to escort me to the ballroom?” Cora asked innocently.

Eris shrugged, the gesture lazy, “I usually escort nobles.” He tilted his head in a manner that reminded Elain of a wolf observing prey, offering Cora his arm like any good gentleman ought to do. “Consider yourself lucky that my exceedingly high standards have miraculously lowered for the evening.”

To Elain’s surprise, Cora took hold of Eris, her eyes never leaving his. “Watch yourself, prince, lest someone think you’re doing me a kindness.”

Elain looked at them both and she knew Lucien was doing the same. Without warning, Eris winnowed him and Cora from the room, sparks scattering in the empty space where they had been.

Elain was left alone with Lucien, all thoughts of Eris and Cora pushed from her mind as she took him in once more. He was so unbelievably handsome, Elain felt her heart skip several beats.

“I guess…” Lucien started, looking at Elain only for a moment before he turned his attention to a point past her head. “I think we should follow them.”

Elain nodded, taking a few careful steps towards her mate, wondering if Lucien would winnow them as well, or if they would walk the maze-like halls of the Forest House together. She looked up at him, glad that at least she would have him to help her navigate the event.

Despite it all, Elain trusted Lucien with her life. As she lifted a hand to reach for him, Elain finally remembered the stunning comb, still held tightly between her fingers.

“Help me with my hair first?” Elain did not know what possessed her to speak, but she regretted the words instantly.

Elain saw apprehension cloud Lucien’s features, but he hummed in response. “Of course.”

“It’s sharp,” Elain warned as she placed the accessory in Lucien’s open hand. As their fingers brushed, she held her breath.

Gently, as though she were made of glass, Lucien tilted her head. Careful of the comb’s teeth, Lucien delicately set it near some of the pin’s already holding Elain’s curls in place.

The whole world seemed to stop, and only that moment seemed to matter.

“Lovely,” Lucien murmured, his hands dropping to his side.

A spell broken, Elain felt like she could breathe again. The sound of Lucien’s voice ringing, soft like wind chimes, clashed with the one thought Elain could not shake from her mind.

You are mine.

#fic: all you have is your fire #part x #by clockwork-ashes

81 notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 13 days

Text

happy luce noises

#lucien vanserra

373 notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 16 days

Text

#writing insp #miscellaneous things

123 notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 16 days

Text

Chasing Starlight: Chapter 23

Pairing: Poly!Feysand x female!Reader

TW: This chapter contains a brief discussion of sexual assault. There is enough context at the end that you can figure out what happened if you need to scroll. This wasn't an easy chapter for me to write for many reasons.

“Your mate.” I flinch as the words fall from Eris’s lips, dripping with derision. I don’t notice Rhysand’s hand in mine until I feel the squeeze, accompanied by a low, rumbling growl. Darkness has gathered at the windows, ready to pour in and snuff out the light. The fire in the hearth jumps as the Autumn heir leans across the table, his nostrils flaring as his molten eyes narrow further. “What sort of game is this? Is the other one in on it? Surely she must be, since your mate reeks of you both-”

“Enough,” I interject, clearing my throat as I tilt my chin a little higher. “This isn’t a game, and we didn’t ask you here for a pissing contest-”

“We,” he scoffs, pulling out his chair at last. As his eyes rake over me, something in me withers in the face of the terrible fire blazing in that gaze. It’s crueler than hate and colder than rage, the way he looks at me- no, through me. I think of my mother, her words when they made that oath. I haven’t had much cause to think of all the ways I resemble her before now. My heart might have ached for him if I thought it hurt him, but I am not certain he can be hurt anymore. “Are you in trouble?”

“Trouble?” I tilt my head, pursing my lips at the question. Eris presses on with a nasty sneer.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. You certainly had nothing of value to offer them. I can only assume you were the one in need. What sort of bargain did you make with them? What did they offer you to take you to bed? Surely it’s no shock to you, and he’s certainly used to such arrangements.”

I make a disgruntled noise. The statement about my own worth matters little, but my cheeks burn at the blatant insult to my mates. Icy, writhing darkness floods the room until the only light remaining burns in the hearth and the tips of the Autumn lord’s fingers, glowing like red-hot embers against the tabletop. I sit up straighter, feeling my hair begin to rise as the air grows more humid and my head begins to pound. Rhysand’s hand is cold in mine, a deadly sort of cold, and I feel the weight of his eyes on me. Watching, waiting, allowing me to stand for myself if I choose to.

“What’s between us isn’t a bargain, or anything else you might have insinuated. It’s a mating bond,” I state, calm in spite of the hot anger swirling in my gut, and swallow hard against the bile rising in my throat. That strange, frenetic energy builds beneath my skin, like pulses of lightning escaping a gathering stormcloud. Something slick slides along in its wake, a sludge that seeks to suffocate it. To devour it. Suppressing a shudder at the thought, I press on. “Triad mating bonds are uncommon, but aren’t unheard of. Surely the concept isn’t a novelty to you. Please, I only have a few questions and then you can leave. We don’t have to meet again after this, I have no desire to deal in endless political drama. I just want answers – no, I want the truth.”

“The truth of what?”

“Me,” I whisper, “my mother. And, to some extent, you.”

“Why do you believe there’s anything to tell?”

“Because I saw it,” I whisper. “Like some strange memory imprinted in the tangled mess of my mind. I know what you did in that cottage, Eris. What you promised my mother. Now I want to know why.”

“What do you intend to give me in return?” Eris asks. His voice is dangerously low, hushed in a way that’s reminiscent of dead, dry leaves rustling across the floor. “You may not wish to deal in political drama, lady, but you sit at the heart of it. The answers you seek are dangerous. What do you have to offer that will make divulging them worth my time?”

“I…what do you want?”

“Have your mates done you such a disservice that they did not teach you how to negotiate before bringing you here?” he tuts, shaking his head.

“I’d hardly call this a negotiation,” Rhys muses, raising my hand to his lips. “You’ll give us the information we want.”

“Or what? Will you attempt to take it?” Eris’s molten amber eyes glimmer with challenge as they meet my mate’s, who merely smiles in kind. A smile with far too many teeth. The shadows in the room seize, rising like a viper poised to strike.

“Oh, Eris, I can and will do far worse than that.” My blood chills at the deadly edge Rhysand’s voice takes. I’ve never heard him speak like that to anyone, never felt that deadly chill I’ve only heard whispers of. The High Lord of the Night Court has never given me reason to fear him before, yet that sleepy, glazed look in his eyes sends shivers down my spine. “Your shields aren’t so well crafted they can truly keep me out. I’ll have the information I need and, when I’m rifling through your memories like so much loose paper, I’ll end our alliance. All of the monetary aid I give you to pay your bribes, and every spy I have gathering the fuel for your little rebellion will vanish with only a word from me. Can you really afford that when you’re so close to achieving your goal?”

“Can you afford to lose an entire court to Koschei?” Eris snaps. Not even the fiery, impassioned anger rising in him can smother the fear flaring in his eyes. I take a breath, swallowing against the bile rising in my throat as he continues. “Can Prythian afford even another few months of my father’s reign? He’s bleeding our court dry attempting to free Koschei, there isn’t much left for him to take. If you allow us to fall, Rhysand, it will be to the detriment of our entire country - not just one court. Nevermind the innocents that will suffer and die for the sake of your pride, what will you do when there’s a death god at your door?”

The people of Autumn have not been my people for a long, long time, but my heart aches at the thought of their loss. Those fearsome, ancient forests will burn before they yield to the might of a foreign king, and all of those orchards and fields and the people who tend them will burn as well. I could never let that happen. My blood heats at the very thought until I think I, too, may burn alive.

“It won’t have been for my pride, Eris, but your own,” Rhys says, his thumb moving in slow, soothing circles over my skin.

“No,” I murmur, my voice filled with a quiet thunder I barely recognize. It’s anger and pain and so much sorrow I think I’ll burst from it, but it’s enough to stall whatever male argument that was about to commence and ruin so many lives in the process. “This does not need to come to that. Innocent fae do not need to suffer or die for this. If you do not wish to answer my questions, Eris, no one will force you to. It’s fine. You can just leave.”

“It is not fine.” There it is, the indignant snarl of a male unwilling to lose his mate. When I look at Rhys, there’s a fear swirling amidst all of that cold anger that I’m not sure Eris would notice, but I do. I tighten my grip on his hand and do the bravest thing I can: I smile. It’s a weak, tentative thing, but it’s all I can offer.

“It is. My intention is not to be the source of more suffering. Not for even one person, let alone an entire court. The only life that is lost in his refusal is my own, which is more than enough. Autumn deserves liberation from Beron’s cruelty, whether I’m here to see it or not. Your alliance predates your knowledge of my existence, my love. I ask that you honor it.”

“What do you mean?” Eris asks, his eyes narrowing as they return to me. I shift in my seat, removing my hand from my mate’s. The Autumn heir likes knowledge and secrets and I’ve just given him something to pique his interest. He hasn’t left the table yet, there’s still a chance he’ll give me what I need. My nostrils flare as I take a deep breath and try to remain calm. The panic slowly rising in me might cause my voice to shake if I don’t keep it suppressed, but this feels like the fight of my life and I don’t want to lose. I can’t afford to.

“I mean that I don’t have the luxury of time to barter or beg for what always should have been mine,” I tell him. Something flares in the depths of his eyes, blazing like the heart of a star. Surely, my words have hit a nerve. “The spell my mother used to bind my magic seems to have gone a bit off - I suppose it’s to be expected, she’s been dead for quite some time. We’re not certain how long it’s been poisoning me, but…but there isn’t a lot of time left to stop it. And I want- no, I need it stopped. I never imagined I’d be much more than the outcast daughter of a traitor, I never thought I’d have people to care for, but I do. I do. I have a family and a life I desperately want to protect, so I am asking…I am begging you for help. Please, help me. Please.”

Rhysand’s anger sparks at the other end of our bond, blazing hotter than any Autumn fire, but I’m not too proud to beg. Not for this, not for the sake of the family they’ve welcomed me into. I’ve heard the pain of losing a mate is unspeakable, I won’t put them through it if I don’t have to. I’ll beg Eris Vanserra on my knees for his help before I let myself die now. Not when I finally have the chance to be genuinely happy.

Eris, to his credit, looks vaguely ill. His pale skin has taken on a sickly sort of pallor that makes the brown freckles on his nose and cheeks stand out like constellations splattered across his skin. The light in his eyes has dulled and, when he turns his gaze upon Rhysand, he swallows hard before he speaks again.

“There’s something new beneath this mountain.” He taps his finger against the tabletop as he speaks, the beat reminiscent of a ticking clock.

“Been talking to Keir, have you?” Rhys asks silkily, taking my hand in his once more. His fingers shake in the brief moment they press into my palm, and I make a mental note to give him a little more attention before we leave, to try to ease whatever ache my words have caused.

“No,” Eris responds bitterly, shaking his head. “I felt it earlier, like a pulse beneath my skin. Whatever you’re hiding down there, Rhysand, it wants out.”

“And it reached for you?”

“I don’t know that it reached, per se, but I felt it all the same. If it’s useful-”

“I don’t know if it’s useful. I don’t know if it can be controlled, or if it’s even worth trying to master. But if it proves to be worth more than the effort it would take to put it down, and if you can provide us with any useful information, I will see that it finds its way to you at the appropriate moment.”

After a long, quiet moment, the Autumn heir nods. Returning his attention to me, he says, “Tell me what you saw.”

So I do. I recount every moment I can pull from my, admittedly hazy, memory and watch as, with every word, his eyes take on a hollow, haunted sort of look. Something about it feels cruel, like I’m wielding my mother’s memory like a weapon to save my own skin, but I’m not just doing this for me.

“And what would you like me to say?” he asks when I’m finished. “You know what we did, you know what the price of satisfying the blood oath is. I should have paid it sooner, I meant to pay it sooner, but that hardly matters now.”

“I want to know why it had to be done at all. What did you see in me as an infant that was so dangerous it had to be locked away? I was a babe. What could have been so terrible that it warranted such drastic measures?”

“Your mother was special. We hadn’t seen a lesser faerie of her kind in an age. Her skills in healing and herbalism were unparalleled, but those weren’t the aspects of her my father coveted. Her gift of prophecy was often accurate and, truly, a useful tool for his arsenal. But it was not nearly as reliable or useful as the curses she would cast to devastating effect. She was proud and lovely and wicked in a way he found enthralling. The entire court knew of his interest in her, they once placed bets on whether he’d set my mother aside for her. He pursued her the way a fox might hunt down a rabbit. I don’t know that he necessarily expected to chase her into my bed.”

“Yet he did,” I murmur, my heart sinking like a stone. “Did you love her?”

“More than I ever believed possible.”

“Are you…?”

“No,” Eris mutters, shaking his head. “No, there was one night I was away, one night overseeing field operations alongside a captain that was due for a promotion. That was all it took. He found her working late in the healers’ office, long after the rest of them had gone to bed. My father has never been one to be refused. When she wouldn’t give him what he’d come for, he took it by force.”

I can feel my mouth fall open as my vision begins to blur. I blink furiously against a rush of hot tears as I think of my mother. She’d always possessed a bitter sort of strength, and had kept herself behind a wall of quiet, simmering anger that I’d never been able to break through. As Eris watches my face, that haunted look turns to something sharp and lethal as the flames in the hearth flare. I shudder to think of what he may do with all of that rage.

“As fierce as she was, not even your mother was a match for a High Lord,” he continues, his eyes flickering between my face and the hand Rhys clutches. Surely he can’t think my situation is anything like hers. The corner of my mate’s mouth twitches in the echo of a snarl, but he remains silent at my side. “She wasn’t able to fight him off, but she took something as well. Something her magic must have deemed of equal value to what he stole.”

“What was it?” I ask, dread softening my voice, making it so much smaller in the otherwise oppressive silence filling the room.

“My father used to fly into fits of rage when I was a boy that would rattle the trees in the forest. I remember the way the clouds would gather and the winds that would shake the walls of our home. It was one of his lesser used abilities as High Lord, since he only found it worthy of use as an intimidation tactic. But after that night? It took me a few months to realize that, no matter how irate he became, he could no longer call in a storm. Your mother and I had hoped - prayed, really - that I had been the one to sire you. But the moment I saw lightning dance at your fingertips, any hope I’d had of claiming you as my own died. It would not have taken long for my father to piece together what happened once he saw what you could do. And if he’d gotten his hands on you…you were a danger to yourself, your mother had to do something to protect you. And I would have done anything she asked. Anything. I owed her that much.”

And he had, hadn’t he? Together, they’d severed my connection to most of my power and any hope I’d had at fitting into a court that prized power above all else. I’d been a decent enough healer, nowhere near the standards my mother had set, but now I know why. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to live with it. With the knowledge that I…that I’d come from–

“And my father?” I ask. “I know that he knew I…I wasn’t his, that he agreed to- to claim me.”

“He cared enough for your mother to not wish to see her - or you - harmed. He loved her, in his own way, and I was weak enough to let her go to him. I became so consumed with my plans to assassinate my father, to get my revenge for what I thought he’d stolen from me, that I was blind to everything else. I thought, with him out of the way, I might be free to claim her as my own…and you along with her, if that’s what she wished.

“When your father and brothers offered me their support, I took it. What did I care if they were willing pawns in my game? It would have been easier to get them out of the way that way. When we were compromised and all of our plotting unraveled like so much loose thread, I let them take the fall for it. All of it. And as I lit their pyres, I watched you in the crowd, trembling like a lamb to slaughter. I had hoped you’d be frightened enough to run before I’d be forced to hunt you down.”

And I had been. I had been scared and so very alone. No one would stand at my side, lest they’d be called a traitor themselves. I’d run like a coward and resented myself for it every single day.

“Thank you for telling me,” I murmur, rising from my seat. I pull my hand from Rhysand’s, though I truly cannot feel it anymore. There’s a chill to my skin I don’t believe any fire will warm, and there’s not enough air in this room to breathe. I need to get out. I need to leave. I’m aware of Rhys speaking, though I’m not quite sure what he’s saying. I can’t hear it over the painful roaring in my head.

I only begin to shake when I leave the room. Will the shock of it all be the thing that actually kills me? I’d wanted the truth so badly, and now I know. Now I know and I feel as if it’s going to eat me alive.

Tearing down the hallway, I fling open door after door until I stumble into a bathroom and promptly heave the meager contents of my stomach into the toilet. Much like the night the poison finally eroded my mother’s binding spell, I retch and choke on foul, black bile until my muscles ache. Too much, it’s all too much. How stupid I had been to think knowing any of this would give me peace, would help me find an answer worth having. None of this is going to save me – revealing this information makes me more of a target, not less. I am little more than stolen magic in a body that should not exist, it would have been better if I’d burned with my family. I might have been more useful as kindling.

“No.” That’s Rhysand’s voice, so close I can feel his breath against the back of my neck as a hand smooths over my hair. The toilet flushes and I feel my body easing back, nestling into the curve of my mate’s like it’s what I was created for. “No, my dove, don’t think that. Don’t ever think that.”

“You said you wouldn’t read my mind,” I sniffled, crossing my arms protectively over my torso. Like that might do something to block the pain.

“You’re projecting your thoughts, my love. I can’t help it.” His lips brush against my temple, my forehead, as though it might soothe the mental anguish of the past day.

“I don’t want to see him again,” I whimper.

“You don’t have to, I promise. Feyre and I will deal with Eris. You don’t have to see him again if you don’t want to.”

“My mother, Rhys…”

“I know, darling. I know. I’m sorry.”

It’s not enough. No apology will ever be enough to fix everything that is so desperately wrong with me. My headache is no match for the pain in my chest, or the way my muscles spasm as I think of all the ways I’d like Beron Vanserra to pay for the pain he’s caused. For the life he took from my mother, and the future she might have had if she had not been saddled with me. Eventually, Rhysand’s hand cups my chin and, for a moment, I fight it. I don’t want to look at him, afraid of the pity or worry I might find in his eyes. I don’t think I can bear it.

“Look at me, Dove.” I can’t, I can’t, but then he says it again with a softness that crumbles my resolve. “Please, look at me.”

I do. And all I can see in his magnificent violet eyes is love. Love I desperately need and will probably never truly deserve, but it’s there. And it’s mine, he is mine in the way that I am his. Whatever I may have come from, I was made for this.

“Please don’t kiss me,” I mumble, lowering my arms so I can properly settle into his embrace. “I’m very sure my mouth is disgusting and we’d both regret it.”

“How can I help?” he asks, running his thumb along my jaw. “Tell me what I can do to ease some of this for you and it will be yours. Anything, all you need to do is ask.”

“And what, Rhys? You’re mine to command?”

“Always.” It’s a fervent prayer, a promise made between kisses pressed against my brow.

“I want Beron to suffer, Rhys. I want him to pay. I want him dead for what he did to her, to them, to…to everyone. I want him to bleed.”

“He will. I promise, I’ll see it done.”

“And I…” I sigh. “I want to go home now.”

“Are you sure? We can take more time here if you need it, there’s no rush.”

“I am,” I nod, resting my head on his shoulder. “I want to see Nyx and Feyre, and I want to forget this awful day for just a little while. I want us to just be together and enjoy each other until something else inevitably goes wrong - don’t laugh, you know it’s true. Every time it seems things are beginning to go well for us, something terrible happens. I just want a moment of my life that’s not tainted with grief or pain. We’re newly mated, we should be enjoying this time together. Can we do that, in spite of all of this? Can we still have that?”

“We can, we will. I believe I’ve exhausted my ability to share you for the rest of the week.”

“Feyre won’t like hearing that.”

“Feyre is one of two exceptions,” Rhys murmurs, briefly tightening his grip on me. “And I don’t know that I’ll ever mind sharing you with her.”

“Let’s go home then.” Everything we’ve learned here has waited this long, it can all be dealt with later. Once we’ve all had time to breathe. And to plan. "I'm ready to see our mate."

#chasing starlight #rhysand x reader #feyre x reader #rhys x feyre x reader #(is my heart breaking and shattered on the floor ? yes)#(goodness this is all so tragic)#(is of bad that I feel sorry for Eris too? because I really do)#(also DEATH TO BERON AS SOON AS POSSIBLE)

229 notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 16 days

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones 12.5 [Bonus Scene]

Author’s Note: This bonus scene would take place around the beginning of chapter 12 as Eris x Iris have started to get to know each other and spend more time together.

shoutout of @abruisedmuse ily for letting me get all SMTB brainrot on you <3

Find it all here.

Eris cleared his throat and breathed deeply before plastering a smirk on his face and knocking on his little brother’s front door.

It took a moment before Lucien opened the door with a blink and then quirked his brow.

“Eris.”

“Lucien.”

“To what do I owe this great pleasure, brother of mine?” Lucien asked as he stepped aside and gestured for Eris to step in.

“As much as I cherish seeing your adorable little face, I’m actually here for your wife.” Eris said, the corner of his mouth turning up. “Elain?!”

Lucien closed the door behind them with an eye roll and followed his brother. “She’s in the garden out back,” he replied dryly. “What do you need from her? Having more wife troubles?”

Eris paused, causing Lucien to knock into him, and turned to glare at his little brother. “I don’t have wife troubles. I would simply like to see my little sister and discuss with her how she’s doing.”

“And ask her about your wife troubles.”

Eris’s glare intensified. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Lucien only smiled. “Pillow barricade still there?”

“The thing you speak of doesn’t exist.”

“Ah, that means it’s still there,” Lucien said, nodding knowingly. “She’s not wooed by your endless charms?”

“She is wooed just fine,” Eris mumbled, scowling. “Mind your business. You’ve barely been mated. Need I remind you of your pining, little brother?”

“Need I remind you that it was mutual and how we’ve been happily mated and married for two years already, big brother?” Lucien replied with an easy smile. “Just admit you’re a terrible husband with no game and I’ll be more than happy to help you.”

“I don’t need your help, you fool,” Eris said with a light shove. “Your mate is the smarter one of you both so if, and this is a big if, I needed assistance with the so-called wife troubles, which I do not have, I would ask Elain.”

Lucien’s mouth slowly turned into a smirk, and then he snorted. “Wow, you must be really terrible in bed.”

It was Eris’s turn to roll his eyes. “It took you two years to get your mate to even talk to you but now you have the nerve to talk about my bedroom skills.”

“You keep deflecting, big brother,” Lucien said with a sigh. “As if you don’t know the exact circumstances of my mate and I. You, on the other hand, must truly be terrible in the bedroom and outside of it for your wife troubles to be this severe. Your visits have increased, I see.”

Eris scoffed. “So? I can’t visit unless I need something? Do you want me to stop visiting?”

“Couldn’t stop you even if I tried,” Lucien said with a laugh. “But we both know you don’t miss me as much as you miss Elain — which I don’t appreciate.”

“Are you jealous of your wife because I like her more than I like you, brother dear?” Eris said with a sarcastic smile.

Lucien rolled his eyes. “No, I just don’t see why she has to deal with your whining constantly. Go whine to your own wife.”

Eris’s smile immediately turned into a scowl as the tip of his ears heated. “Leave my wife out of this.”

“And you wonder why my immediate assessment is how terrible you must be in the sack.” Lucien said with a snort then held up a hand before Eris could reply and asked him with his most serious expression, “You…do know where the clitoris is, right?”

A heartbeat passed and Eris did the only logical thing he could think to do — swing his fist at Lucien’s face.

Lucien ducked with a laugh. “Are you truly swinging at me in my own home?”

“I will break your nose if you say anything else that’s stupid.” Eris seethed.

“You sure your hand will handle punching me? It must be so hard on you after all your alone time. I’m surprised your hand isn’t constantly cramping.”

“I’m sure you’re very familiar with what a cramping hand and limp dick must be like since you had to deal with it for so long.”

Lucien grinned. “I never said anything about a limp dick but now you’re really pulling my sympathies, Eris. Your situation is far worse than I had predicted.” he said and with a most sincere expression, Lucien put a hand over his heart and added, “I’m so sorry for your condition, brother. I’m sure a healer can help.”

Eris snarled and before Lucien could stop him, pulled him in a headlock that quickly turned into Lucien ramming his fist into Eris’s side which would have turned into a downright brawl had light footsteps not entered the room and a throat cleared.

Eris and Lucien both froze, their limbs intertwined as they turned their heads to find Elain standing with hands on her hips and a raised brow.

“Really?” was all she asked then gestured with her hand, exasperated. “Untangle yourselves. Now.”

Shooting each other a glare, the two brothers shoved away from each other.

“Ugly git.”

“Slimy asshole.”

“Rude behavior.” Elain added and held out her hands. “Every time? Every single time?”

“Your husband is very rude.”

“He was being mean to me!”

Elain rolled her eyes. “You’re both mean to each other. I thought we talked about this, hm? Got past it?”

“He talked about my wife!”

“Lucien!” Elain scolded.

“He made fun of our two years of pining!��

“Eris!”

“You walked right into that one, Lucien.”

“You’re the one that started talking about limp dicks, Eris.”

Elain blinked then glanced up towards the ceiling. “Grant me patience, gods,” she mumbled. “Lucien, weren’t you in the middle of something?”

“Yes, I was, my love. I merely wanted to give my big brother a warm welcome,” he said with a grin that Eris responded to with a glare. “Make yourself right at home, limp dick. I can’t wait to give Iris my sympathies in person soon.”

“Oh fuck you.” Eris replied and glared at Lucien’s back as he leaned down to kiss Elain then waltzed out of the room, his middle finger waving goodbye from the air.

“Why are you married to him again?” Eris mumbled as Elain gave him a knowing look and walked over to him.

“Because he has great hair.” she replied with a smile and promptly wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

“Great hair doesn’t make up for how annoying he is,” Eris replied even as a small smile found its way to his lips, and hugged his little sister in return, squeezing her tight. “How are you, little acorn?”

“Is everyone little to you?” she said with a laugh and pulled away to look at him. “Little acorn, little Lucien, little gazelle?”

At the knowing look Elain gave him, Eris’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed. “I...am having a hard time.”

Elain blinked innocently. “A hard time? I thought it was the opposite problem you were having?”

Eris scowled immediately and Elain giggled. “Your mate is a terrible influence.”

“We both know who the real terrible influence is,” she said with a grin then tugged on his elbow. “Come on back to the garden so we can discuss this in private.”

“You say private when Lucien clearly knows too much already,” Eris mumbled and let Elain drag him outside. “You said you wouldn’t tell him anything.”

“To be fair, I don’t have to tell him. He’s picked up on it and despite the aggressively childish behavior between you two, he cares about you a lot,” she said with a chuckle. “He likes to check in and make sure you’re okay.”

“Or just make fun of me,” Eris grumbled. “He listens in from some open window, doesn’t he?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Elain said brightly and gestured for him to take a seat by the garden.

Eris sulked momentarily, watching as Elain slipped her gloves back on. He pursed his lips and debated saying anything. It wasn’t like anything major had happened. But…

“So.” Elain began carefully, eyeing him. “Did you find out what her favorite flowers are?”

“Carnations. She likes them all but red ones are her favorite.”

Elain blinked then gave him a sly smile. “Do you know what red carnations symbolize?”

“It’s the color of my blood soaking the pillow when she slits my throat.” He deadpanned and Elain shot him a withering look.

“Could you not?”

Eris gave a long-suffering sigh. “What does it mean, Elain?” he asked dully, and Elain chuckled, throwing a weed at him.

“Love.” she sang. “And affection.”

Eris blinked then snorted. “That does not apply here.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know my wife.”

“You’re barely getting to know your wife.”

“But I still know her more than you do at the moment.”

“Sure, but do you know her heart?” she said and batted her eyelashes with a wide smile that immediately had Eris snorting.

“It’s as cold as mine.”

“Well, someone drank his dramatic juice this morning.” she said with an eye roll and Eris scowled. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” he said rather defensively. “I just…”

Elain paused her digging to raise a brow.

“I don’t… like feelings.”

Elain laughed. “No. I would’ve never noticed.”

“Elain.” he said through gritted teeth, crushing the weed in his hand.

“Eris.” his sister-in-law replied with a sweet smile, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

“If you make fun of me, I won’t share things with you.”

“I can call Lucien and have you share things with him instead if you’d like.”

“I would much rather die, thank you very much.”

Elain laughed again and Eris’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

“You know, feelings are a part of relationships. A big part, actually.”

Eris sighed. “I know. I still don’t like them.”

“So how are you sharing your interest if you don’t like having or sharing feelings?”

“I’m mostly irresistibly annoying.” he said with his best charming smile and Elain snorted. “Though she is very mean to me in return.”

Elain rolled her eyes and threw another weed at him. “So, you two had your big talk. You’re spending more time together. You seem to be flirting up a storm. What’s the issue?”

Eris pursed his lips and twirled the stem in his hands. It took him a moment before he finally answered. “I…am not sure,” he said. “I am nervous. This makes me nervous. She makes me nervous.”

His sister-in-law only chuckled softly, her hands busy in the dirt though her eyes flickered back up to him. “Is it because it’s going well? You’re not used to it, and it makes you skittish?”

“Used to what, exactly?”

“Someone spending time with you without some scheme or ulterior motive involved,” she replied with an eye roll. “You’re not used to spending time with people who aren’t doing the same.”

Eris’s face heated and he ran his tongue across his teeth. “Well, you didn’t have to say it like that.”

“Why don’t you throw her over your shoulder and show her how you're really feeling?” Elain said with a sly grin and Eris’s brows shot up.

“Elain, so scandalous of you to suggest such a thing.”

“Every wife likes to be swept off her feet.” she said firmly and gave him a superior look. “Don’t tell me you’ve been kissing your wife without some kind of grand sweeping gesture?”

Eris pursed his lips again and looked away, eyes focused on the dirt to hide his expression. Sure, he shared some things, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to say anything about the nonexistent physical relationship he had with his wife.

He craved a kiss. Eris was dying to know the feeling of her lips on his. But he wouldn’t push. Not this. He would work at her pace even if he killed him.

Even if he jerked himself to death. Which seemed very likely at the moment.

“It’s not like that between us.” he said quietly and finally gazed back at his sister-in-law who was giving him a small knowing smile. “She’s not comfortable enough yet so we have been taking it very slow.”

“And is that what’s making you nervous? Taking it slow when you’re used to running through everything?”

Eris shrugged. She was getting too good at reading him, almost as good as his own mother, and Eris wasn’t sure he was supposed to like that feeling so much.

Elain straightened and slipped her gloves off before sliding next to him and tapping his hand.

“You know, I’ve always thought you had more to you than meets the eye.” she began softly. “And getting to know you better, watching you build a stronger relationship with Lucien…as much as you like to pretend otherwise, you have a big ‘ole softy hiding in here that’s trying to come out.” she said and tapped his chest, right over his heart.

Eris promptly wanted to assassinate himself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he mumbled, scowling immediately and Elain rolled her eyes.

“I think Iris is the person you need to share that with the most and I think it makes you nervous that you desperately want to.”

Eris scoffed and looked away, his scowl deepening as the tips of his ears reddened. “I don’t desperately want to.”

“Gods Eris, you’re so desperate you positively reek of it.” Elain said with a laugh and Eris shot her a glare. “I think it’s hilarious and oh so wonderful. Besides —“ she paused to give him a stern look. “I may not know Iris just yet, but I do know flowers and their language. When someone has a favorite flower in a specific color, it’s usually because they are drawn to those things.”

Eris felt his face twitch. He wouldn’t read into it. They were just flowers.

“Why am I even listening to you? You married Lucien. Your judgment is clearly skewed.” he said with a childish pout and Elain immediately shoved him with her elbow.

“Don’t talk about my love like he's anything but perfect.”

“He’s my brother and he’s very ugly.”

“It must be so hard for you to deal with Lucien being so much more attractive than you are.” Elain said with a sweet smile that was anything but sweet. “How terrible it must be for you to be living in his shadow constantly.”

It was Eris’s turn to roll his eyes. He pushed her face away with his hand gently, earning him a yelp of protest. “No one is more attractive than I am but since you’re delusional, I’ll allow you this error in judgment.”

“I bet Iris thinks you’re very attractive, doesn’t she?”

“When she’s not too busy trying to stab me during our training sessions, she finds me downright delicious.” he said with a smug smile and Elain laughed again, shoving him.

“You’re so full of yourself, no wonder you’re too nervous to be nice around her. How will you function without all that ego?”

“It’s part of my charm.”

“But, of course.” she said then shook her head with a sigh, standing. “Come on you lovesick fool, let’s make you a nice bouquet so you can take it with you to impress your wife.”

“I am not a lovesick fool.” he immediately protested. “I barely even like her.”

“Oh really? Who is the delusional one now?” she said with a knowing look and Eris scowled as she tugged him along with her. “The flowers are a good step towards showing your feelings. You can keep it up from there.”

He scowled further. “But that still makes me nervous.”

“It’s good you're nervous. It means you care.”

“Of course I care.” he replied faster than he could stop himself. “She’s my wife.”

Elain smiled at him warmly and patted his arm. “Then I think a lovely bouquet of red carnations will be just the thing to show it. We wouldn’t want you to lay it on too thick now, would we?”

Eris gave her a small reluctant smile. “No, we can’t have that.”

And so, he followed her through her garden silently, watching as Elain mindfully picked out her best carnations. He knew Iris would like it and tried to clamp down on the smile attempting to escape him just thinking about her face lighting up when he handed it to her. She seemed to enjoy that he had flowers delivered regularly now but hadn't given her one directly yet. It should be perfect.

As Elain picked out another flower, Eris softly added, “She likes peonies too. I think the pink ones would look good with the red carnations.”

Elain paused and turned back to him with a grin. “Oh? And do you know what those symbolize?”

Eris rolled his eyes with another small smile. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.”

She laughed then elbowed him gently. “They symbolize happy marriage, good luck, and prosperity.”

Eris blinked and squinted at Elain’s too knowing of a smile. Running his tongue over his teeth, he waved a hand, his cheeks heating slightly as he looked away from her and said all too quietly, “Throw in more of those. I’ll take all the luck I can get."

#fic: spirit meets the bones #chapter XII.V #eris vanserra #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien #eris vanserra x oc

56 notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 17 days

Photo

Eclipse of the Sun in Venice in July 8, 1842 by Ippolito Caffi.

146K notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 18 days

Text

Can you hear me screaming? Because I am a lot OMG things are escalating.

azriel x eris | 3k words | warnings: none | masterlist

Skarlet leaves, glimmering in the sunlight that filters through the tree tops, dance in the wind, swirling and doing barrel rolls in the breeze that blows through the forest.

His booted feet are planted in a stance atop the yellow-ish, brown grass, Eris exhales a long breath and then fills his lungs with a deep inhale of the crisp morning air.

Large, looming trees rise out of the earth all around him and brush against the sky. The sun-dappled leaves create flickering shadows that remind him of a male, but he doesn’t want to dwell on thoughts about the shadowsinger, he has no time for such idiotic things, not when the future of the Autumn Court is at stake. He shoves the thoughts away, until there is just nothingness within his mind.

He leans his head to the sound, listening to sounds around him – the chirping of birds and wind brushing through the leaves. The cool air is like balm to his soul, to his skin and his aching, heavy heart. In moments like this he allows himself to forget about everything – Beron, Koschei, Azriel.

The light breeze blowing through the forest this morning sends a shudder of movement through the branches, making him even more aware of the peace that surrounds him deep within the forest. When Eris lowers his head, he can see animal trails crisscrossing beneath him. He smiles to himself – nature has always been able to calm his mind and heart. To make him feel fully at ease. To allow him to rest for a few minutes.

It is what he needs right now. He turns his head to look around – light dances on the fern fronds, glittering off of morning dew and then the corners of his mouth kick up when howling and barking fills his ears. He closes his eyes for a second, reveling in the noises that get louder and louder by the second, and when he opens his lids again, he sees them.

Almost like a wild hunt, his hounds, twelve of them, grey and sleek like smoke, race through the forest as fast as the wind, heading for their owner who is patiently waiting for them. He set a prey, winnowed away, let them race there, and winnowed away one again – training for his precious pets.

“Good boys!” The laugh that leaves Eris is honest, his heart feeling a little lighter now that he spends time outside with his precious animals. He inhales a deep breath of the crisp and fresh morning air, smelling so wonderful right after it had been raining almost the whole night. He fills his lungs to the brim, holding eye-contact with his oldest and most loyal dog who eagerly wiggles his tail.

“Another round.” Eris tilts his chin at the hounds and earns himself a loud snort from Cerberus, his most precious and beloved pet. Eris only winks at him and is gone in the next moment, leaving nothing but swirling pine needles and leaves behind.

It continues like this for a while, until only after many hours, they return to the Forest House. Eris sends his hounds inside to get their breakfast which only chosen sentries are allowed to feed them, providing them only with food that Eris allows them too – his previous hounds only deserve the best.

In the meantime the prince strips out of his sweat-drenched shirt, and his loose pants. He washes and then he is gone again, before either of his parents can question where he is heading to.

Hunting, he will say when he returns. It is a good face-saver, the best he can come up with. He used to go hunting a lot when he was younger, it had gotten less when he and his brothers, his hunting companions, started to drift apart.

Eris is heading to stables after collecting two freshly baked rolls from the kitchen and eating them up in a few big bites; after hours of training his hungry, but he can’t waste any time on a proper meal.

“Lord Eris,” Margot, the masterchef greets him, showing him a reproachful look. She doesn’t like it when he hurries when it comes to food, she always wants him to eat slowly, and enjoy it. Eris flashes her a polite smile and then he slips out of the door and is gone before she can stop him and force him to eat something else, or more.

His steps tread rather lightly on the straw-covered ground when he enters the stables, heading for his horse – the large, black horse one of his sentries has already put a saddle on for him, now handing him the reins.

“Good hunting, my lord,” the sentry says and bows his head. Eris dips his chin in thanks and goodbye.

With practiced ease, Eris hoists himself onto the horse's back, and with a gentle nudge of his heel, he urges the horse forward. They begin to move, at a rather leisurely pace, but it is important to keep his lie up. It shouldn’t look like something is rushing him, if Beron should watch him depart (which he often does, always keeping his eyes on everything that happens in his court.)

Eris doesn’t mind the slow space, not when he actually wants and needs a few moments just for himself, to prepare.

He hasn’t really spoken much to Kallax, his younger brother, in the past years. Not alone, that be it, but only in his father’s presence. Kallax, just like Eris’ other brothers, distanced himself a lot from both Eris and Beron, as well as the Forest House. The last time they all were together was probably the High Lord’s meeting…

Eris releases a deep sigh, hands not holding the reins too tightly, his horse as obedient as every other horse in this court.

He has always been closest with Kallax; safe for the time where he and Lucien were an inseparable team…

Kallax and him are only eight years apart, most of their life they have spent with each other (safe for the time where Kallax, Geras and Merat joined the war camps and didn’t come home that often). Even before Under the Mountain, distance started to stretch out between them. Nothing happened to harm their closeness, it just happened, subtly and over a longer expanse of time. And after Amarantha’s reign, it had fully spread out, almost like a plague, the time in Amarantha’s grasp probably having left their toll on everyone.

His little brother is in many ways very similar to him – he loves the hounds, and he loves hunting and nature, but he is a born warrior. Not a leader. Not a High Lord. Kallax has always liked combat, preferred fighting over talking, and has mostly spoken with his hands instead of his mouth. When it comes to females, he also shares a different opinion than Eris. Not only concerning preferences where Eris most definitely favours males, but in terms of how females should be treated. Eris knows that his little brother is now often seen with a Forest Nymph, if Kallax changes his misogynistic beliefs for her, is yet to be seen, though.

The Forest Nymph is a well-hidden secret, since the second-oldest Vanserra brother knows exactly what would happen if he found himself a lover that is a lesser fae. He saw what was done to Lucien’s…Jesminda. He was there that day. He held Lucien, made him watch…and that is something Eris will never forgive him for.

Kallax hides his Forest-Nymph, but Eris knows everything, has his ears and eyes everywhere, but of course, his brother’s secret is safe with him. He couldn’t protect Lucien and Jesminda – this time he won’t fail one of his brothers. The crisp air kisses his face when he rides deeper into the forest, already getting closer to the border, the earthy scent of fallen leaves mingling with the smell of damp soil. Sunlight peaks through the tree tops, making the colours of the leaves around him appear just a little richer.

A feeling of trepidation blooms within his chest, making his heart feel just a little heavier. He shifts uncomfortably atop his horse, fiddling with the reins. Eris is normally not one to be nervous, but something about this meeting makes him feel a little tense. What will Kallax say? Will he have his trust? Does he have to earn it first?

Kallax is proud and ambitious, cruel in some ways, and ignorant about many things. He can be egostic and only agree to things that really concern himself and sometimes all of these traits combined get the best of him. When he was a young male, he always wanted to prove something to their father (maybe still does) and tried to be the perfect son over and over again, which formed his heart cruel in a way that Eris finds shocking, but not surprising.

His own heart has been wrenched and wrecked by his father, destroyed and left in pieces. Beron tried to turn him into a monster, but he wants to be stronger. And he also hopes that Kallax wants to be stronger. Wants to be a better male than what Beron tried to turn them into, wants to try to be good.

Normally, when approaching people Eris who needs to talk to about something, he is confident, not once was he nervous or unsure when talking to the Lord of Bloodshed, or the other High Lords. But with his brother it is different.

A unique sense of anxiousness takes root inside of him the moment he spots his brother in the distance, casually leaning against a tree, one ankle crossed over the other, head tipped back, sunlight falling upon his pale face. Behind him, there are only towering ruins, stone covered in ivy and moss.

The tension doesn’t fade until he is only a short distance away from his brother.

He drags in a deep inhale, blows it out through his nose. He gently pulls on the reins, signaling his horse to halt. Sliding effortlessly out of the saddle, he lands on the forest ground with a soft thud. He pats the horse on the back, whispering some words to it and it trots away (where to, only Eris and the horse know).

Kallax’ eyes open, and a snort leaves him.

“Eris.” Cool boredom laces his expression when Kallax pushes off the tree, sauntering casually towards his older brother.

Out of everyone, Kallax resembles Eris the most. He is equally tall, with slighter broader shoulders, nothing but swagger in his demeanour when his eyes scan the surroundings. His hands are stuffed into the pockets of his beige breeches, his jacket made of luxurious dark green fabric, adorned with golden embroidery, and his long auburn hair is tied back into a low bun.

“Interesting choice of place, I must say.” Kallax keeps one hand in the pocket of his breeches, the other he uses to brush back a few strands of loose hair when he stops in front of Eris, letting his eyes run over his older brother. His brow kicks up a little, curiosity shining brightly within his eyes.

“We used to come here a lot when we were younger.” Eris turns his gaze away from the younger Vanserra brother, observing the old ruins and large trees. They are at the edge of an old forest, as far away from the Forest House as possible, and quite close to the Spring Court border, near an outpost of the Autumn Court war camps. The war camps Kallax lives in.

Time-worn remnants of what once used to be a castle surround them. The ruins are covered in moss and ivy, and when they used to go there when they were younger they always pretended to be in an ancient fortress full of secrets and mysteries.

Secrets…

Towering, weathered trees surround them, shielding them completely from the outside world. No preying eyes having a chance to catch them.

“What do you want, Eris?” Kallax exhales a long breath, then rolls back his shoulders. He looks at Eris, then directs his gaze skywards. Eris has no idea what caught his attention there, but he decides to deliberately ignore it.

“Zen and two Autumn Court war bands are stationed at the border to Summer now. For protection against Summer and also Night.”

“I know.” Eris‘ younger brother shrugs his shoulders, ignorance etched on his face. He seems like he couldn’t care any less, like this talk with Eris is the greatest waste of his time possible. “That’s not why you wanted to talk to me, right?”

Kallax takes a few steps to the side, resting his back against the weathered stone walls, then crosses one ankle over the other. He observes Eris, gaze slowly running over his older brother, assessing him.

Kallax is truly a born-warrior, and once Eris is High Lord he will make him his general. If it ever gets to that point.

Eris doesn’t really know why his father never made him general of the Autumn Court armies – Kallax is perfect for this position.

“I think you can imagine why I asked you to come here.” Eris takes a few steps forward, kicking away a branch, hands clasped behind his back.

Kallax smirks. “Beron.”

Eris doesn’t let his surprise show about his brother not using “father” but Beron‘s name. It seems odd, Kallax has always been fond of their father, or was this also just a mask? One similar to the one Eris is wearing daily? Could it be that just like he himself, Kallax also resents their father?

Eris veils his face in indifference, holding eye contact with his brother. “Yes.”

Kallax raises a brow, almost in a mocking, pitiful way. “He isn’t telling you much lately, huh?”

Eris bristles and shakes his head. There is no need for lying now, it would get him nowhere. He needs to have all the information he can get, and if he isn’t honest to Kallax now, when should he be?

If he wants the Autumn Court to change for the better he needs the support of his brothers, only together can they make it work. Kallax as his general, Zen as Kallax’s second in command, and Geras…in some other important position. Maybe.

“No, he isn’t, but that’s not why I asked you to come here.” Eris is right in front of Kallax by then, the tips of their shoes almost touching.

“Oh?” Kallax raises a neatly trimmed brow.

“You know what I have to do.”

A wildfire erupts in Kallax‘s amber eyes, the corner of his mouth kicking up to form a vicious grin and then he drags his thumb across his throat.

Eris huffs and lowers his chin to his chest. Then he nods.

“And you need my help for it?” The question is posed without any kind of emotion, but still lethality laces every word.

Dread coils in Eris‘ gut. Never, never in the world, would he ever pull someone else into this with him. It is too dangerous. He quickly shakes his head.

“I need you to—” He cuts himself off and clears his throat. “If things go wrong, I need you to leave.”

Kallax’s brow knits. “What?”

“If things go wrong, you can’t stay here. Neither can Zen, or Geras. Beron will suspect you supporting me or following in my footsteps and I can’t risk it. He is already driven by fear — his sanity, if he ever had one, left him long ago.”

“I can’t leave. I—”

Eris grabs his younger brother by the shoulder, then pins him with a look. “You and your sweet little Forest Nymph leave the moment word about my death reaches you. You will head to Spring, with Zen and Geras. You are gone before Beron can only as much as think about going after you.”

Surprise passes over Kallax’s face, but is soon replaced by an emotion Eris has barely ever seen on his younger brother’s face. Worry.

“You won’t die,” Kallax says and his voice sounds so much younger, almost boyish and vulnerable. In this moment, Kallax reminds him of the young boy he used to be who came running to Eris, crying tears and snot, after Beron beat bloody about stupid mistakes or accidents.

Kallax’s lips open and close a few times, then he says, “You are going to be the next High Lord, Eris. You are—”

“If things go wrong, you leave.” Eris grows impatient and shakes his brother by the shoulder.

“What about mother?”

“I will take care of her.” Their gazes are still locked, and Eris lets his brother see the honesty in them. “She will be safe.”

“You promise?”

Eris‘ gaze flicks to the ground, shoulders and chest heaving with a deep inhale. “I promise.”

Slowly, tentatively, his eyes lift and he removes his hand from his brother’s shoulder. His jaw clenches and for a moment they only look at each other, no conversation passing between them, but it is all in their eyes. The silent trust, the brotherly bond though weakened but still manifested in their hearts, and the secret promises — the prosperity of a better future.

“I can trust you, Kallax.” A statement, not a question.

Kallax steps away from the weathered ruins, finger dragging over the in ivy covered stone before he moves further away, towards the large trees looming behind them. “You are my brother, Eris. You are my family.” Kallax turns away.

“Beron is also your family.”

Kallax snorts, shakes his head and in the next moment he is gone. He winnowed away.

“Bastard,” Eris growls and fights the urge to show a vulgare to the empty place where his brother stood.

He calms himself and then a split second later mist, almost like shadows, curls around his body, and his feet leave the ground and when his eyes open he finds himself in a wholly different surrounding, large trees looming around him, birds chirping and flowers of all colours blooming wherever he looks.

And there he is, the tall shadowy figure – a stark contrast to all the bright colours, causally leaning against a tree full of lush green leaves, his eyes closed, his expression somehow peaceful.

In a polished, velvety voice Eris makes himself known, “Shadowsinger.”

tag list for ACOCD @hnyclover @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @queercontrarian @fandomsmultiverse @acourtofbatboydreams @chunkypossum @baileybird71 @beckkthewreck @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @owllover123 @acotarobsessed @goldenmagnolias @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @v3lv3tf0x @talibunny30 @allyhill @popjunkie42 @skyesayshi @going-through-shit @mybestfriendmademe

general Azris tag list: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams

#fic: a court of covert desire #chapter XI - brother brother #eris vanserra #azriel shadowsinger

25 notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 18 days

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones - XII

Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Please be mindful: some implied language may be found triggering.

shoutout to @abruisedmuse for letting me always cry to you about this. ily <3

Every day after that, the two of them woke up with the sole purpose of watching each other. Eris watching Iris and Iris watching Eris.

Eris followed up on his promise with training and the first few sessions were the most entertaining time of his life.

“Tell me your favorite color.”

Eris had only blinked and blocked Iris’s attempt to jab him in the ribs.

“My favorite color?” he repeated with a snort. “Why?”

“It's a valid question.” she said indignantly and aimed for another swipe that he easily deflected. “This is a basic piece of information any couple should know about each other.”

“If you keep bracing yourself, I’ll see the hit coming and block it. Don’t hesitate, just hit.” he instructed, tapping her elbow and though Iris narrowed her eyes, she nodded. “Get a hit in and I’ll tell you.”

Iris rolled her eyes and stepped back, putting her hands on her hips. “So now I have to earn my information? What happened to a question for a question?”

“You’ve been itching to smack me since you met me, so I figured this was the proper motivation.” Eris said with a smirk. “You also didn’t actually ask a question, wife.”

Iris flipped him off and then resumed position across from him. “Fine, smartass.” she huffed. “A question for a question.”

“Yes, wife?”

“What’s your favorite color?” she asked dully, and Eris’s lips twitched.

“I don't know. I don’t think about colors.”

Which was one of the many, many lies Eris had been constantly telling himself these days.

He had started to think about colors quite a lot actually. He thought about the way he particularly loved the color green on her. And the color wine. And he didn’t want to admit how the color purple had nearly brought him to his knees the first time she wore it.

He thought about the color pink when she painted her lips with it and worse, when she flushed, and that same pink bloomed on her lovely cheeks.

His favorite color was the color of her eyes and the way they lit up in excitement whenever they did anything together these days. But Eris had no need to mention that. No need at all.

“That’s not a real answer, you cheat.” she replied then held the dagger up threateningly and Eris chuckled.

“What’s yours?”

“Cerulean.”

He wouldn’t think about her in that color and how magnificent it would look against her tanned skin. Instead, Eris pursed his lips and said dully, “You mean blue?”

Iris fully stopped and shot him a look of annoyance so cold, Eris had to fight everything in him not to laugh.

“You dress too well to pretend you don’t know your colors. I’ll just guess then.” she finally said and began pacing around him. He only watched her with a raised brow and a smirk, turning as she turned.

“What do you think is my favorite color then?”

Iris pursed her lips, silent for a moment then pointed with the dagger in hand and confidently boomed, “It’s green, isn’t it?”

It certainly was now. He thought to himself and opened his mouth to reply but Iris barreled on.

“Which is a tad cliche, but you wear green often and it suits you without clashing with your hair.” She continued, more so to herself as she tilted her head and observed him. “You tend to go for the darker greens, but I think sage would look really nice on you too.”

Both of Eris’s brows went up. “Is that so?”

Iris hummed, her free hand casually reaching out to touch his arm. “Celadon would match well too. It’s just a shade away from sage but just as nice.”

Eris only watched her hand touch the fabric of his shirt and held very still. “Would you like input in my wardrobe, wife?”

Realizing she was still touching him, Iris flushed lightly and pulled back. “How about some nice fluffy skirts?”

“I’m afraid you’d get jealous of how spectacular my legs would look.” he said and grinned when she laughed.

“I wish I had the right word to describe you.” she said with a shake of her head.

“Handsome? Delightful? Wonderful?” he offered. “In case you missed it the first time I said it but, once again, handsome?”

She scrunched her nose in mock distaste and said, “Obnoxious is what I would go with. Maybe nauseating.”

Slowly, with each quip, they tried to build a routine.

And Eris, who was not used to having someone be a constant presence around him was slightly unsettled.

Especially because the more time they spent together, the worse his reactions to her were getting. It was getting harder and harder for him to resist her even if all she did was stand next to him.

Each day passed in a blur, until a week and then two were gone before he knew it. A week and then another, of exploration, of questions, of training, and every single thing Eris could think of to include in their day-to-day. Even though he needed to plan it well to maneuver everything without his father detecting it, Iris was a constant companion by his side every day when it was suitable. It was an ache he didn’t realize he was feeling that was soothed. He was exhausted but it felt good. Being around her felt good.

And it scared the shit out of him. Especially whenever he was in the same room as his father. Any urges he felt were dimmed down very quickly with the slight panic of just thinking about Iris near his father.

In turn, Iris tried to be stealthy about her observations of Eris as they went about their day but Eris was always aware of how she watched him. He tried not to let it unnerve him but also wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it. He aimed to take his mother’s advice and show Iris kindness each day. The problem was, he wasn’t exactly sure if he was doing it right.

Her threats continued, though half-hearted. His inappropriateness was the response, also half-hearted. It seemed to be the easiest way for them to navigate whatever this was.

Eris had never requested so many flowers in his life; Elain outdid herself each time with her bouquets knowing he would only trust her with flowers. The last thing he needed was for his father to find out he went out and bought his wife flowers.

Iris had adjusted to their expected roles better than he had anticipated. Whenever they stepped out of their room, she became the demur, adoring wife and Eris tried not to let it fuck with his mind. Especially whenever she touched him.

And gods, she touched him so much now. It was subtle touches, almost mindlessly but he never failed to notice that she always hesitated just for a fraction of a second then did it anyway. As though convincing herself it was allowed, and it was — it was very much allowed. Even if Eris was on the verge of a constant meltdown.

He didn’t touch her as often. For his own sanity but also because she still to this moment, eyed his hands warily. Even when they started training, her eyes always drifted to his hands.

It was why Eris didn’t mind it that he hadn’t tasted her lips yet. He kept reminding himself that it was one step at a time. Because apparently, making it work didn’t include kissing.

This all didn’t stop them from having...difficult moments.

A few days before, he had a terrible reaction when she had accidentally brushed up against his back in passing and Eris had flinched so hard, she had jumped back several feet from him.

“Don’t.” His snarl slipping from his lips quicker than he could leash it, the command a mirror of the one she had given him their first night together.

Iris had stood, taken aback and a beat of tense silence passed between them. “I’m sorry.” she said quietly, her brows furrowed. “I didn’t realize it still bothered you.”

It had taken him a minute before he swallowed, hating the way she stood away from him so rigidly. “Just because it seems healed doesn’t mean it doesn’t bother me.”

“You sleep and walk around shirtless...I assumed you didn’t have any issues —”

“I don’t like people to approach me from behind too closely and I like to air it out,” he replied curtly and rolled his shoulders back. “I’ve also been used to sleeping alone.”

Instinct had told him she wouldn‘t touch his back any of the times he slept shirtless and only because Eris knew she still hesitated to get too close to him, he didn’t bother with shirts. Her expression had flattened at his tone but she kept her voice even, watching his expression.

“You’re telling me no one has ever touched your back?”

“If you’re wondering about previous lovers, they usually had their hands occupied elsewhere.” he snipped then narrowed his eyes, trying not to let a sneer find its way to his face. “Do not pity me for a single moment.”

Iris had only lifted her chin and met his near-sneer with a scowl. “I expect the same from you.”

The rest of that day had been spent in silence, even as they explored. Both of them feeling too awkward to meet in the middle.

It also didn’t help when that same night, Iris had walked in on Eris bathing while doing other things and slammed the door shut with a loud gasp. She had only flushed angrily at him and refused to meet his gaze when he slipped into their bed afterward.

He had desperately tried not to laugh as he was shameless; a male had needs and his wife was fucken beautiful. But Eris, of course, had only said the stupidest thing he could think of.

“To make it very clear, I was definitely thinking about you, wife.”

Which only caused Iris to scoot further away from him and reply, “Go die. Don’t think about me that way.”

“Would you rather I thought of someone else then?” he teased, and she shot him a glare.

“I’m sure you’ve had others you can think about.”

Eris shrugged and crossed his arms, looking at her. “Yes. But none of them are my wife. Surely you wouldn’t want your husband to think of others while pleasuring himself?”

He slowly smirked when she had only pursed her lips and ignored his question. “I assume you’ve had needs as well, wife. I’d be happy to assist you with them at any time.”

“No, thank you.” she spat, flushing deeply and Eris chuckled in the silence that followed her response — until she looked over her shoulder and asked an unexpected question.

“Will you...find relief with others? If I...am not comfortable yet?”

Eris had blanked as she blushed and looked away, quickly adding, “It wouldn’t be fair for me to deny you and then expect you not to find it elsewhere.”

He had stared at her in a long enough silence, that it forced her to look at him once more.

“I thought we were going to make this work.” he said tightly, and Iris blinked.

“...Yes.”

“I don’t count infidelity as making it work. Do you?”

Iris swallowed and looked away again, flushing. “No.”

“Good,” he said simply then rolled his shoulders back. “I’m not a male interested in anyone but my wife, even if my wife isn’t interested in me yet. I will wait until you are comfortable.”

Color had bloomed on Iris’s cheeks and she’d stolen one more glance at him before turning away once more, refusing to respond, and Eris had to hold back a grin.

And every day after, they found ways to bridge the gap between them.

Iris joined him and his mother for tea almost every morning and he always felt the strangest sensation watching his mother laugh alongside Iris. He couldn’t find the right word to describe it — didn’t know if he could whenever he watched the two of them bond, but it made his heart swell.

Eris was pleasantly surprised when two weeks later, and after he worked with her on the basics for her self-defense, his wife had indeed kicked his ass hard enough that he was the one on his back in the training room.

She grinned as she stood over him, her dagger at his throat and Eris desperately tried not to get a hard-on.

“Beat you.”

“Your grip on the dagger is getting better.” he said to her slowly, his eyes cataloging every inch of her in fitted training clothes. “I see your stance has improved as well.”

“You have a big mouth but at least you're a decent teacher.” she said with a chuckle and pulled back so he could get up, twirling the dagger in her hand.

But Eris wasn’t so sure he was decent about anything. Especially when all he could think about was having her on her back and doing very indecent things to his one and only student.

“Next time, I’d like to see you try to disarm me more quickly. But good job.” he said with a small proud smile, dusting his training leathers and Iris grinned at the praise. “It seems that the imbecile who stole kisses from you gave you some acceptable pointers in between the fondling.”

Iris’s expression flattened. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“I will have him beheaded if you’d just tell me his name.” Eris said sweetly and Iris snorted, shoving him back.

“No, you won’t because I will not tell you anything. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“He kissed my wife.”

“Before she was your wife.”

“Yes, but now you are the future high lord’s wife. I will not have a wife fondler in my court.” Eris added and Iris huffed a laugh.

“How do you know you haven't met him already? What if he’s been working with you this whole time knowing he’s fondled your wife?” she said with an eye roll. “You’re ridiculous.”

Eris paused and narrowed his eyes at her as she pursed her lips, holding back another laugh.

“Do I need to fight for my honor then, wife?”

“Your honor?”

“Yes. You won’t tell me the wife fondler’s name. I will fight for it and win back my respect.”

“You’re losing respect by the second the more you ask about him.”

Eris put a hand over his heart and gave her a once-over. “I am the son of a high lord.”

Sheathing her dagger, Iris gave him a saccharine smile and said as she told him once before, “Kiss my ass.”

Eris chuckled. “A few training sessions and you’ve gotten cocky. I’d like to see you try without the dagger then.”

“You just want me to get you on your back again, don’t you?” she taunted with a smirk that had Eris grinning. “Right where you belong.”

“What if I want to get you on your back?”

“We both know by now that’s not how it would go.”

Eris smirked and tried not to let his delight show at the slight flush in her cheeks that had nothing to do with their workout.

“I’m very curious to know how you think it would go.” he said seductively. “How long are you going to keep resisting my charms?”

Iris pursed her lips and raised a brow. “Funny how you think there is much to resist.”

Eris tutted as they stood opposite each other, and he gave her another slow once-over. “We’re two sides of the same miserable coin so don’t you lie to me. The least we can do is fuck it out, little gazelle.”

Iris returned the once over with one of her own before she met his gaze and firmly said, “Don’t ask for things you won’t survive, husband.”

“I’ve always liked a challenge, wife.”

Iris’s brow raised in challenge. “You would barely survive a kiss.”

“Is it the witchcraft or poison on your lips that’ll do me in?” he asked with a lazy grin and Iris rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth ticked up.

“It would be the knife I so casually slip into your chest if you took a kiss before I gave it.”

“And when will you give me one, wife?” he teased, and she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Maybe today. Maybe tomorrow.” she replied airily. “When I feel like it, I suppose.”

And oh, Iris would never admit it to him at the moment, but she definitely felt like it. All this time she shared a bed with this male and had started to share so much with him...except a kiss. By her request, of course.

Which she was deeply regretting because now, all Iris felt was pressure. An insane amount of pressure that sat on her chest daily, that squeezed when she looked at him and Iris found herself looking at him a lot.

He chuckled at her comment, waving her off then rubbed his cheek, at the scruff gracing his face and Iris wondered if he had any idea what the light beard was doing to her. He seemed to have forgotten about it completely.

“I like my odds with maybe.” he said with a wink and shoved his shoulder into hers gently.

Iris pursed her lips then shoved him right back but knew he didn’t miss the way she kept eyeing him, her gaze constantly on his face.

“Is there something you would like to say?” he teased again, and Iris rolled her eyes, pushing past him.

“There are a few things I’d like to say but I am a lady.”

“A lady with one of the filthiest mouths I’ve ever seen.” Eris said with a snort. “I have been bamboozled.”

“Bamboozled?” she asked, putting a hand over her heart as a coy smile found its way to her lips. “Are you flirting with me, husband?”

Eris gave her a smirk. “It only took for me to admit being fooled that you realized? I need to work on my game then.”

“Yes, you do. You’re terrible.”

And the two shared a small, shy smile as they made their way out of the private training room and back to their bedroom.

Since their little heart-to-heart, things seemed to be different but they were both still somewhat cautious with each other. Iris still scowled in his general direction at some of the nonsense he said, and though the pillow barricade was getting shorter, it still stood proudly between them.

A flush blossomed on her cheeks as Iris recalled yesterday morning when she woke up to find their hands inches away from each other.

They still didn’t know what to make of the other.

But...he seemed to be trying. And so, she tried as well.

Each morning, they would venture out somewhere different in the Autumn Court, places she had never seen though she had been born and raised in it. Eris included her in almost everything and watching him work had been fascinating. The way everything was done in plain sight of Beron and yet...the High Lord knew nothing of the system Eris had built that functioned without him.

The day he introduced her to a few select people he valued above everyone else was one that filled her with pride.

“This is Nevien, the only healer I trust. She’s patched me up more times than I care to admit.” Eris had said when introducing the older female. Iris had noted his fond smile towards her as the healer smiled back. “Nevien, please note you might see me more often these days as I’m going to start training my wife. She has the tendency to try and stab me.” Nevien had only laughed as Iris rolled her eyes.

Later that same day, he introduced her to some of his closer sentries she had seen around.

“These are Oren, Mikel, and Serphan — three of my generals who oversee the workings of my legion and personal court within our territory. I trust them with my life.” he explained, and Iris nodded her greeting with a smile — until Eris turned to his generals and continued with, “Friends, if I am murdered, please put Iris on trial first as she threatens me with death several times a day. I annoy her enough that she might actually do it.”

Her expression had flattened before shooting Eris a glare but he only smirked as his men held back smiles.

“See? Murder is in her eyes.”

“Keep talking, it won’t only be in my eyes.” she had muttered. He had only grinned in that infuriating way of his while his companions laughed.

So his most trusted men watched her. His most trusted healer started meeting with her. He trained her himself and Iris had never been so blissfully busy, it made her heart burst. She was finding purpose.

Most importantly, he made time with her every single day to spend away from the court. Even if it wasn’t far, even if it was just in the fields watching her as she ran around with the hounds, he took her.

They avoided his father. They avoided her father. They avoided any outside factors that could sour the mood between them.

They spent every night with each other and when they weren’t exhausted, they spent it doing mindless activities together. The other night, he had sat opposite her while playing cards and Iris couldn’t take her eyes off him. She watched how at ease he was with her, his eyes focused on his cards while biting his lip. Or at least his gaze had been focused on the cards, — until he snapped his eyes to hers and he sniffed the air.

“Interesting development.” he said, and Iris narrowed her eyes at the stupid smirk on his face.

“What development is that?”

“I didn’t realize playing cards turned you on, wife.” he said with a Cheshire cat smile and Iris flushed deeply.

“Oh yes, cards are one of my fetishes.” she said dryly and forced herself to roll her eyes, but Eris’s smile only widened.

She froze, watching him calmly put down his cards and with a predatory gleam in his eyes, Eris moved closer and closer until he leaned over her just slightly so, a knowing look in his eyes. “If that’s the case, I think we can play a different game.”

Iris leaned back from him, her cards hugged to her chest, as if hoping he couldn’t hear how loudly it was beating. “And what game would that be?” she asked, completely distracted by the way his scent seemed to flood her senses.

“Why, strip poker, of course.” he said, leaning in further until he hovered close enough to her face and they shared a breath. “If playing cards makes you feel this excited, it seems logical stripping should come next.”

Iris huffed out a laugh, even as her blush gave her away, and shoved his head back with her palm. “Just say you want me naked and stop beating around the bush.”

Eris snorted and slowly backed away, to where he lay across from her and picked up his cards again. “I don’t think I’ve beat around the bush about that for one moment, wife.” he said and then gave her a wink. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll only let you beg for it a little.”

“What makes you think I’ll beg at all?” she asked more haughty than she felt.

And the look he had given her set her whole body aflame. “We shall see, won’t we?” he said softly, and Iris had a much more difficult time paying attention to her cards after that.

As time started to pass, Iris felt how her feelings towards him shifted from wary to complicated to...somewhat ease. He didn’t push her or invade her space. He taunted her, of course, but never anything more and she found...she stopped minding the taunts so much.

One morning at breakfast, he had left her a simple gift box on their table and when Iris opened it to find a dagger, a well of emotion had surged in her body so fiercely, it almost made her cry. The same dagger was now sheathed to her thigh and Iris had to school herself at the time not to launch herself at him as he only said, “Consider it a late wedding gift.”

It was a beautiful dagger with a gold hilt, light enough it didn’t hold her back but sharp enough to slice off an arm.

And this had changed everything for Iris. Because it was an olive branch. A sign of trust. She had almost kissed him then. She found herself almost kissing him in quite a few situations.

She had even started to feel bolder with her nightclothes, choosing ones more comfortable though not too revealing. And with the way he cataloged each set, she might as well have been naked.

It was deeply unfortunate that he was very attractive, and she was, unfortunately, becoming attracted to him. Unfortunate that there always seemed to be a pull between them and Iris felt her walls getting lower and lower around him. Felt herself starting to like him and it scared the living daylights out of her enough that she always hesitated.

She watched him as they now walked down the mostly empty hall, nodding as certain staff passed. Iris observed him and knew if she didn’t say something soon, she’d end up doing something stupid, like shove him against the wall and kiss him how she desperately wanted to.

Clearing her throat, she stole a glance at him and quietly said, “I’m excited to visit Elain and Lucien tomorrow.”

Eris’s eyes met hers for a moment and the corner of his mouth ticked up. “So am I. They’re very excited to meet you.”

She fiddled with the hem of her shirt for a moment before speaking. “You told me you can see us getting along before...that’s still the case now, right?”

Eris blinked then paused in his steps, causing Iris to almost collide into him. He turned and gave her a curious look. “Yes, of course. Are you...nervous?”

Iris scoffed, though her cheeks heated. “Of course, I’m nervous! They’re the only family you like aside from your mother and I’m still trying to find time to spend with her.” she said in a quick breath then added quietly, “I want them to like me.”

Eris’s brows went up in surprise then he chuckled. “I can assure you, they’re going to like you very much.” he said. “Probably more than they like me.”

Iris pursed her lips, holding back a small smile then cleared her throat again as they started walking once more. “Well, that much can be expected. I am nicer than you.”

Eris rolled his eyes, knocking into her shoulder gently. “So you say. Yet, I am the one getting threats on a daily basis from someone.”

Iris crossed her arms and knocked her shoulder back into him. “Are you saying they’re undeserved?”

“I am saying for someone so nice, you have quite the violent tendencies.”

“That mouth of yours can inspire homicidal tendencies in just about anyone so really, are you surprised?” she replied with a pointed look and Eris blinked at her then tilted his head back with a laugh.

Iris’s lips twitched, watching the way his face changed with the laugh. How open he seemed. How unburdened. She liked when he laughed. She liked it a lot.

So she added, “One could argue you inspire those homicidal tendencies just by standing there and breathing but I don’t want to give you too much credit.”

“Oh the way you are with your words, wife.” he said with a shake of his head, one of the more genuine smiles on his face. “I’m so incredibly flattered.”

Iris looked down with a small smile, her cheeks reddening just so at his words, at his gaze on her. Only when he gently brushed his fingers against hers at her side did she look up again.

“I know going to the Day Court is a big deal for you.” he said quietly. “Your mother was originally from there, yes?”

Iris looked at him in surprise. She had mentioned that small detail to him in passing, through one of their random conversations. A warm feeling spread through her chest that he remembered.

“Yes, she was.” she said, a sad smile finding its way to her lips. “I’ve always wanted to visit but...he never allowed it.” Iris looked at Eris, brushing back a strand of hair that fell loose from her braid. “I’ve always heard it’s very beautiful. Do Elain and Lucien live in the city itself?”

“They live on the outskirts, closer to the countryside. But you can see the city from their home.” he replied then chuckled. “It is definitely a very beautiful place, but a little too warm for me. I am a bit biased to our crisp and airy weather.”

Iris laughed softly. “That makes sense, I suppose.” She glanced at him once then licked her lips before asking, “Do — do you think we could visit separately one day and explore the city?”

She didn’t miss the look in his eyes at her question.

Iris had grown up learning to expect no to any of her requests — just because her father had the power to do so. But Eris hadn’t said it once. Hadn’t scoffed at a single thing she asked for or about. So she tried to word her questions better, word them in a way that didn’t make him feel doubtful of her. He certainly tried for her and she wanted to keep trying to expect the better of him.

“Helion has been generous enough to grant me permission to visit Lucien at any time so I don’t see why not. I can send in a formal request for the two of us at some point.”

“Yeah?” she asked and her smile widened. “Do you think we’d be able to stay overnight too?”

Eris’s brows shot up and then he gave her a smirk that instantly had her regretting her question. “You’d have to share a bed with me in a new location. However will you be able to handle it, wife?” he asked in a voice too sinful to be used in a public setting. “I’m afraid we’ll be kicked out with how indecent you’ll be with me. How will I protect my modesty?”

Iris let out a cackle of a laugh even as her cheeks heated once more. “Eris Vanserra and the word modesty do not go together. Please don’t embarrass yourself with such lies.”

“That’s quite mean, wife. I won’t let you ravish me close enough to traumatize my brother if you’re not nice to me.”

“No, thank you. I will bunk with Elain and you can bunk with Lucien. The two of you can relive your cherished brotherly memories of sharing a space and protect your precious modesty.”

Eris snorted. “You think I shared a space with anyone? Please.”

“A high-maintenance princess through and through.” she said with a grin and felt his soft laugh skate down her spine.

“But of course, I can’t have you lusting after a heathen.”

“Your mistake is you think I’m lusting after you at all.”

Eris gave her a knowing look. “Oh the lies you tell, wife.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Enough about you, princess.” she said with a small smile when his mouth formed a very small pout. “Lucien’s the only one of your brothers that surprisingly hasn’t tried to kill you, right?”

Eris waved a hand with a good-natured shrug. “I wouldn’t say never but definitely less than the others.”

Iris raised a brow, lowering her voice, and walked closer to him as people passed them in the mostly empty hall. “So that’s why he’s your favorite.”

“I’m his favorite.” he corrected. “I tolerate them all just fine.”

“It makes sense that you would choose him. He is the most handsome of you.” She said with a smirk that widened at the outrage on his face as he gaped at her.

“You think Lucien is more handsome than I am?”

“You don’t?” She asked with an innocent blink.

“Even with his metal eye?” he asked in amusement and Iris shrugged then gave an exaggerated dreamy sigh.

“Especially with the eye.” she said and fought the smile at Eris’s expression. “It definitely makes him more dashing.”

“You don’t even know Lucien.” he muttered childishly, his eyes narrowed.

“Everyone knows Lucien.” she said, biting back the grin threatening to burst out of her at his expression. “Before he was mated, the Seventh son of Beron was very well-liked by many females. Quite a few males too.”

Eris narrowed his eyes on her.

Iris smiled back innocently.

He scoffed and knocked into her shoulder gently. “I’ll allow your momentary lapse in judgment. Only because I know what’s really in your heart, wife.”

Iris rolled her eyes again, flicking his arm lightly. “Oh do tell, husband dear. What is in my heart?”

“Why, how could it be anyone else but me, little gazelle?” He replied with a smug smile and tapped over his heart. “I’m sitting right in there, warming it all up.”

It was Iris’s turn to let out a snort. “I thought you wanted to worm your way under my dresses?”

“I’m great at multitasking. I want to be under your dress, in your heart, and I already know I’m in your head with how often you think about me.”

She let out a laugh and the corner of Eris’s mouth curved up. “You are so full of yourself, how does your body manage to carry that fat head of yours?”

“I have incredible thighs to hold up my weight.”

The laugh died in her throat as Eris’s head shot up and faster than Iris could comprehend, he had her cornered against the wall, his hand lightly wrapped around her throat.

“Play along.” he whispered.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #fic: spirit meets the bones #chapter XII #(that ending had me anxious #and nervous)

58 notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 20 days

Text

Gabriel Ferrier - Le Soir (The Evening) 1911 by A-Faun on DeviantArt

artist note: Photoreproduction of Ferrier's painting.

50 notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 22 days

Text

Fanfic writers are like crows. If you give them treats (comments) they will bring you shiny things (fanfic)

7K notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 22 days

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones - XI

Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Please be mindful: some implied language may be found triggering.

shoutout to my darling @abruisedmuse for being on this journey with me! ily4ever <3

Find it all here.

Eris stood with his hands clasped behind his back, unbothered as Beron glared at him, per usual. His thumb tapped on the back of his hand as he stood, reigning in his anger that always flared at the sight of his father.

“What is this I hear about the breach in security on the southern border between us and that piece of shit Tamlin?”

Eris tilted his head. “Oh? I thought that was the territory you requested your sentries to oversee, Father? Did something happen?”

“You tell me.” Beron snarled. “Aren’t you the one who is supposed to be responsible for ensuring things like this don’t occur?”

“Yes. I am the one responsible for all security measures of our court.” Eris said and gave his father a small smile. “But again Father, you recently requested a particular group of sentries to oversee that specific area and for me to remove myself from it...I believe it houses a private resident for you? For your...dalliances?”

The High Lord scowled at his son, but Eris only blinked. “Watch that tone, boy. That’s none of your business.”

“Then I’m afraid whatever security breach happened is also none of my business, Father.”

A tense moment of silence passed, and Eris braced himself as his father narrowed his eyes at him.

Over the years under his father’s thumb, Eris had found that while his father was a tyrant, he had gotten lazy. He thought so little of Eris’s manipulative capabilities that he was more than happy to have him do the grunt work. But Eris had eyes and ears everywhere and this had cost the High Lord his absolute control. He had handed it to Eris slowly over the years, without realizing how much it would eventually cost him.

But Eris always treaded this line carefully, always letting Beron forget about it. Always made it seem as though he was a puppet for his father. Eris was a good son; he always did what he was told...but with a slight tweak, a tweak Beron would be too lazy to care about.

Beron’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I am your high lord. You will do as I say.”

Eris bowed his head graciously. “Of course. I would be happy to assist you with this issue, Father. Would you like me to handle the situation?”

Beron’s glare intensified. “Why else did I bother calling you here? Fix it.”

“But of course, Father.” Eris said then ran his tongue over his teeth before continuing with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Though I would like to discuss something with you in return, if you’d be so kind?”

Beron rolled his eyes. “You and that mouth of yours. Spit it out.”

Eris loosened the slight damper on his anger and rolled his neck back, then met his father’s gaze. “The other night at dinner, I did not appreciate how I was spoken to or how my wife was spoken to,” he said slowly and Beron raised a brow. “I am humbly requesting you never speak to her in that manner again. She is not any concern of yours. At all.”

Beron scoffed. “Is that why you’ve been missing for two days? You’re upset with me?”

“It was disrespectful.” Eris said calmly and though fire was pulsating through his body, he continued to tap his thumb against his hand, desperately trying to smother it. He could only show a little at a time. Too much too soon would not go well for him.

“She didn’t like your punishment for her loose tongue, then?” the High Lord said, and a muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw.

“What happens between my wife and I doesn’t concern you, Father.” he said, his fists tightening behind him but he kept his face as neutral as possible. One day he wouldn’t have to. One day he could just rip his father’s head clean off his body. One day.

Beron smirked slowly, watching Eris, and Eris knew exactly what his father would say before he opened his mouth. “Is that so?” he sneered. “Are you afraid she’ll leave you for another Vanserra too?”

He let the comment slide off him, wondering when his father would stop using it as an insult. It didn’t sting anymore. In fact, Eris was bored of it being brought up at all.

“No. Iris gets all that she needs from me and more,” he said and smiled again, allowing the fire flickering in his veins to be found in his gaze. “I’m sure you realize history will not be repeating itself in this situation. So, I am asking again, leave my wife out of your plays. She is not yours to concern yourself with and I will not tolerate you making her uncomfortable again.”

Beron’s smile was a cruel one, laced with amusement. “Oh? And what will you do, son? If I decide I like making her uncomfortable?”

Eris paused here, pursing his lips, his heart thundering in his chest. He would pay for this in some form or another later... but it would be worth it. To not have Iris look at him like she had the other night.

“Well, Father...I will decide to make you uncomfortable.” Eris replied and smiled a dry smile. “You’ll find that I have been a very good son to you. Your son that hardly gives you any trouble, unlike those other idiots no one ever sees. I am your right hand. Your first-born. I will keep this court running as smoothly as possible for you as I truly do enjoy doing what you ask of me.” He paused here, watching his father as the High Lord assessed him. “But you will find that I can be very unhelpful if my wife continues to be spoken to and about in that way again.”

“You’d shirk your duties, boy?”

“You mean your duties, Father?”

And Eris knew it clicked then, in his father’s small brain, exactly how much deep shit Eris would put him in should he decide to be a menace.

“Your mother’s son through and through, hm?” Beron said quietly and Eris raised his brows.

“I am your son too, father. I was raised by your hand.”

Eris almost wanted to laugh at his own statement. Because quite literally so, Beron had not held back to beat his whole family into submission. Especially his firstborn, whom he allowed zero mistakes.

And yet.

The High Lord stared down at his son with slight loathing and Eris waited.

“Don’t make me beat some sense into you, boy.”

Eris shrugged and Beron’s eyes narrowed. It was a long moment before the High Lord finally scoffed.

“I hope her pussy is worth it.”

“Again,” Eris said, a muscle flexing in his jaw, his fists clenching behind his back. “You will not speak of my wife this way. I will decide how she behaves. I will decide what she will or won’t do. I will decide anything that concerns her. She is off-limits to everyone else. At all times.”

Beron quirked a brow. “Is that so?”

Eris gave him a tight smile. “I don’t like people playing with my things, Father. You taught me that.” he said. “I hope I have made myself clear enough for you.”

A tense silence filled the room and Eris wondered exactly what Beron would do. What his father was thinking. He had crossed a line here and showed his hand. Eris only hoped Beron thought he knew his son well enough that his declaration was one of possessiveness rather than anything else.

“What about your mother, Eris?” Beron said softly and Eris willed himself not to flinch, not to show any reaction. “It would be a shame if one day you shirked your duties and I...had to have a long conversation with your mother about it.”

Eris’s fist tightened behind his back and slowly, silently, he took a breath.

“I would think that would be unnecessary, father.”

Beron tilted his head and smiled. “That’ll depend on you, I suppose,” he said airily. “If not your mother, maybe your hounds? You seem to have a strange attachment to them. Surely you don’t need all twelve.”

“You know how valuable those hounds are to our security system.”

“Ah, yes. Our security system.” Beron said, interlacing his hands in his lap, and watched Eris with a smirk. “Even so...It would be very interesting to see what you hold in high regard, no?”

A muscle flexed in his jaw once more. “Meaning?”

“I will hold my tongue about your little wife, sure.” the High Lord with a shrug. “In fact, I won’t talk about her at all.”

“Then we have an understanding.” Eris said tightly.

“Oh yes,” Beron said calmly. “We definitely have an understanding.”

Eris nodded and stood for a moment before whirling around to leave. Except his father cleared his throat and Eris immediately froze.

Slowly, Eris turned back to face his father with a pleasant expression. “Yes, Father?”

“While we have an understanding, I do want to make one thing clear, son,” Beron spoke and Eris braced himself. “Should you step one toe out of line and think to speak to me that way again, I will find myself truly testing where your loyalties lie.”

“My loyalties lie with you, High Lord.” Eris said automatically and Beron scoffed.

“We shall see.” the High Lord sneered. “It would be a shame if I had to test that theory. A shame if I had to find out what you valued more...your mother, your hounds...or your pretty wife’s cunt.”

“Father.” Eris snarled but the High Lord only laughed humorlessly.

“You said your piece and I said mine, boy.” Beron snapped. “Now, get out of my sight and go fix that border issue.”

Eris’s mouth twisted in distaste, and it took him a moment — a good minute of trying to calm his thoughts so he didn’t snap the old man’s neck. So he didn’t do anything stupid.

Instead, he smiled tightly and bowed his head, despite his father’s look that always promised violence. He was too used to it, and Eris would take every bruise given to him if it got his father away from the two women in his life. He’d said his piece. He’d drawn a line and he would bear all the consequences for it. He had to.

It was not lost on him when his thoughts mirrored that of his wife...what was another bruise?

Iris stared at the bouquet of flowers on the table and blinked. She reached out a hand and hesitantly touched a petal then swallowed.

She had spent the time since her mother-in-law’s visit mindlessly tidying their room and thinking. Thinking and overthinking. Getting angry. Then sad. Then downright anxious.

Lady Enya’s visit had shifted her thought process and it made her realize how narrow her view had been about this whole thing. Thinking about talking to Eris still made her want to vomit but she tried to work through it.

Until she had heard him return and did the only rational thing she could — hide in the bathroom. She only stepped out after he left and that’s when her eyes fell on the bouquet sitting here now.

She had been simmering in anger this whole time. So angry.

At her father. At Beron. At all the stupid powerful males in positions that were able to hurt people and make them feel so small. Which is exactly what Beron had done. He made her feel small. He made Eris feel small.

She swallowed, thinking of the look Beron had shot Lady Enya before they left. He had been making her feel small for years.

But Eris…

“I am not him. I actively try my hardest not to be like him in any way.”

He could’ve been. He could. But he hadn’t.

“I will do everything I can to protect you from him and take the brunt of that as well and I am sorry that it has to be that way and I am sorry that you will likely have to hear more things from him that you won’t like, but I am playing his game so that I can keep worming my way around until I can finish him.”

And she had called him a coward. She had made him feel small too.

She had lashed out this morning knowing what she said would’ve been worse than gutting him. Words were often the best of weapons and Iris had been at the end of those weapons long enough to know how to throw it back.

But what would it cost her with Eris?

“You both are coming from the same place. Trust yourself and your judgment. But also...give him the chance to prove himself to you.”

She swallowed again as his mother’s words rang in her ear and Iris bit her lip, guilt eating away at her, as it had been for hours, the pit in her stomach growing. He hadn’t deserved her throwing words like that at him and had regretted it the moment they slipped out of her mouth. Not that he had held back either because clearly, he knew how to hurt.

But...he brought her flowers.

Iris frowned at the beautiful bouquet now. Was it an apology? Would he —

As if summoned by her thoughts, Iris turned at the sound of their suite door opening and Eris stood in the doorway, a tray in his hands.

He paused at the door, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. She noted how he cataloged the choice of dress that hugged her figure, the loose waves of her hair falling down her back. He met her eyes and without saying a word, stepped into the room, closed the door, and made his way to stop in front of her.

“Wife.”

“Husband.” she said dryly, and the corner of his wicked mouth ticked up.

Eris placed the tray on the table and nodded his head toward the chairs. “Would you like to eat?”

She watched him warily. “I didn’t realize you were part of the kitchen staff.”

“For you, wife? But of course.”

They stared at each other in loaded silence for a few minutes before Eris casually waved a hand for her to sit.

Begrudgingly, and because she was hungry, Iris walked to the nearest chair and plopped down. Eris’s lips twitched as he took the seat opposite her and the two stared at each other again, the tension palpable.

So much for trust. One step forward and two steps back.

“So.” Eris began, and Iris blinked before removing the cloth covering the tray of food and grabbing a piece of bread.

“So.” she said, grabbing a knife and looking at him.

“Did you like the flowers?” he asked calmly, and both turned to look at the bouquet.

Iris fidgeted and slowly put the knife and piece of bread down, her nervousness flaring. She frowned at the sound of her thundering heart. Or was it the sound of his?

“I wasn’t sure what your favorite flowers were, so I went with a seemingly obvious choice.” he added, and Iris met his gaze.

“I like carnations. And peonies.” she replied slowly. “But this bouquet is beautiful regardless.”

A heartbeat passed then, “You fucken hate irises, don’t you?” he asked with a snort and Iris bit back a reluctant smile, the tension easing a fraction.

“I really do.” she said and huffed a humorless laugh. “Blame that on my father too. Whenever he beat me too hard, he'd leave a bouquet of crushed irises at my door. Symbolism.”

Eris tensed for just a moment then forced himself to relax. “He keeps getting better and better every time you mention him.” he said tightly, then leaned forward and picked up the knife and bread Iris had put down.

She watched him again, as he had done the first morning, methodically buttering it for her and passing it over. Iris accepted it carefully, watching him fill her a glass of juice and again, pass it over to her.

When he sat back, his own piece of bread in hand and buttering it silently, Iris frowned again.

“Are we going to talk about the other night?” she asked quietly as her heart galloped in her chest.

Eris paused. “I was hoping you’d eat something first so we don’t lash out again. Like we did this morning.��

Iris’s frown deepened and she sat back in her chair, taking a bite of her bread. He watched her chew, his brow raised as he waited.

She swallowed and knew his eyes had tracked the movement of her licking her lips. “Well.” she began. “How did you think that went?”

“Terrible. You?”

“Horrible. I’ve been insulted before but never quite like that.” she muttered angrily, and Eris leaned forward, the bread dropping from his hand.

“So was I.” he said curtly. “My father aside, you took something I shared with you and threw it back in my face. You blamed me for things I had no control over. You called me a coward when I have spent my whole life trying to fight against what I was forced into. I warned you about my father. It shouldn’t have been a surprise.”

Iris flushed, scowling. “I was attacked. Your father attacked me and you let him.” she replied. “You warned me but that doesn’t mean I have to accept that this will be my reality. How am I supposed to feel safe if I have to be on the defense all the time?”

“And how am I supposed to trust you if the first personal thing I tell you, you use against me in an argument?” he said with a flattened expression. “I did not let him attack you. He didn’t wait for my permission. In case you haven’t noticed, my father loves to shit on me constantly.”

“And you just put up with it?”

“I know how to play his game.” he replied, and Iris shook her head.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Iris watched him frown, his brows furrowed in the frustration written all over his face. She had the strong urge to push her fingers to it.

“You want to feel safe and want trust. You cannot ask this of me and not give it in return.” he finally said. “There are times to respond and times to let him think he won so you can do what needs to be done anyway. That is how he needs to be handled. That is the best I can do with him. The best any of us can do at this time.”

They watched each other silently for a moment.

“If you are willing and you find yourself wanting to, be honest with him. He will meet you in the middle if you are willing to meet him.”

Iris took a small breath. “I... have had the same dream about you for the past two nights.” she whispered, and Eris straightened. “It’s not a pleasant one. It was about what you said to your father. What you’d do to me.”

Eris’s face heated and he shifted in his seat. “It was just a dream.” he said quietly, and Iris’s fingers tightened in the fabric of her dress.

“The panic that woke me up was real each time.”

His mouth twisted as he thought this over then met her gaze. “I said this before, and I understand I will have to keep saying it until you believe it, but I have no intention of hurting you. I will not lay a finger on you.” he said firmly. “I only said that so my father didn’t order me to do anything to you in front of him. It’s the one boundary he wouldn’t cross.”

Iris’s expression furrowed into a frown and a moment of silence passed before she quietly asked, “But he’d watch you beat your wife?”

Eris’s expression tightened for a moment then he mumbled, “He has made me watch while he hurt my mother. It would delight him to watch me do the same to you.”

“And you could do nothing?”

Eris scowled. “I do not appreciate the accusation in that question.” he snapped. “You assume I wasn’t also incapacitated.”

She flushed then mumbled curtly, “I’m not accusing, I’m asking.”

Eris watched her warily, scanning her face. It took him a moment before he finally sighed and rolled his shoulders back.

“Look...I am — my private quarters have always been my safe space.” he said quietly. “Aside from out with the hounds, it is the only place I can just...be. No expectations from anyone. I can’t fight with you in it. I — I don’t have it in me. If you really insist on not wanting to have a functioning relationship, I can arrange for you to have your own space and we don’t need to see each other at all.”

Iris blinked rapidly at the unexpectedness of his answer. “And what? Go our separate ways?”

“You know that can’t happen with your father or mine in the picture.” he said with a humorless chuckle. “You are bound to me as I am bound to you.” And Iris watched him scowl at the words, color blooming in his cheeks. “Or at least for a few years until people are busy obsessing over something else. We could just...orbit around each other. Pretend until then.”

Iris’s eyes dropped to the table, feeling her body suddenly heat up. Pretend? He would —

She took a sharp breath and then very quietly said, “You...would do that?”

“I don’t want someone who doesn’t want me. If you don’t want to try, I will not be the one to force you,” he said, and Iris lifted her eyes in time to find him running a hand through his hair. He met her gaze once then looked down, his expression hardening, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “I am not my father. I will not shackle you to me. You would only need to endure for a while until I can make it work.”

It took her a moment to finally speak, her shaking hands bunching in her dress.

“No one’s ever given you a chance, have they?” she said softly and watched as Eris tensed. “Your father has ruined almost everything for you.”

She watched his hands as they fisted then flexed and it took him a moment before replying.

“It’s a lot easier to let people see what they want to see. I am very good at pretending,” he replied, his eyes on the table. “Being a monster makes it easier.”

“Does it?”

He shrugged. “It’s all I have to work with for the time being.”

Her mouth went into a thin line, and she thought over what he said as he watched her. Trust wasn’t so easily earned but...he was drawing a line, making himself clear.

“I...did not react well the other night.” She said quietly. “Or this morning.”

“Neither did I,” Eris said with a shrug. “I think we can agree not to hold it against each other.”

She sighed and tilted her head back to gaze at the ceiling of their room. “I know you told me we have to behave in a certain way. But your tone...your tone. The sneer in it.” Iris said quietly, color bloomed on her cheeks, and she frowned. “I’ve heard that sneer my whole life. You tell me to expect different things from you then...then you spoke in that tone.”

Iris lowered her head to meet his gaze. “It makes me feel like everything you said and shared was a lie. It makes me feel foolish to believe you. You want me to wear a mask but...I can’t wear one where you’re belittling me in front of others. Even if it’s to have your father leave us alone.”

Eris’s eyes were on his fingers drumming gently on the table. “I...have had to wear this persona for a very very long time,” he said slowly and looked up at Iris. “You will need to give me some room...to work through these things.”

He swallowed then added tightly, “You are the first...opportunity I have ever been given to be different with a female. To openly be better. There wasn’t a relationship I had as important as this one with you.” He frowned. “No one that is supposed to be a...permanent partner. This is different for me too. I need patience from you.”

Iris’s eyes widened at that, and she looked away from him. Her heart was definitely the one thundering at his words so at odds with what his father had said to her.

You’re not important.

She looked up at him and found him watching her carefully. Her eyes darted to the slight color in his cheeks and then to his hands now folded on his crossed legs. He was speaking so calmly but Iris could taste his nervousness. It matched her own.

He had never been bluffing in his declarations.

“Then you want this to work, right?” She asked softly and licked her lips. “You want this to be real?”

“Do you?”

Iris blinked. Did she?

Her gaze dropped to her hands and she considered his question. No part of her going into this marriage had thought about whether it would work or not.

It was a fact. She was to be married to him. She would be his wife. Whatever happened after that, happened. Anything that came from her father would surely be nothing pleasant and she kept expecting the worst. But...Eris clearly didn’t think that way. He wanted it to be different. He had told her so from the beginning. And she had to be one of few people in his life who had ever heard such words from him.

He could be a nightmare for her. But he had endured so much from his father already. From this life. And he didn’t want to be. She had heard him say it.

I’m not trying to. Don’t you see that?

Her mind went back to the conversation with her mother-in-law.

“You two get to decide how real you want it to be.”

He could be more than just her husband. He could be her friend. But...he could also be more. And she had always wanted more. She wanted love. She wanted a...partner. She wanted a life with someone who would see her and care enough for her to protect her. Help her protect herself.

Swallowing, she looked up at him and the color on her cheeks deepened. “Yes. I do.”

And she watched his shoulder sag, just a fraction.

“Then we’re on the same page.”

Iris looked down at her hands for a heartbeat then met his gaze again. “You’re a very good liar,” she whispered. “It scares me to trust you.”

Eris was quiet for a long moment then very, very softly said, “It terrifies the fuck out of me to have you in my life. I don’t know how to...have whatever this is.”

“I don’t want to be a problem. I just want...to have something normal.” she said with a sigh, her eyes darting to him and then back to her hands.

“I don’t think normal will apply in this household,” he said with a soft snort. “But...I think we can figure out what will be normal for us.”

Silence fell between them again and Iris took a breath. A normal for them. A normal she...would be a part of. Iris licked her lips and then quietly said, “I’m sorry for the things I said in anger. It wasn’t fair to you. I was very upset and did not appreciate what was said to me or insinuated about me.”

Eris’s brow flickered up, a look of slight surprise on his face. “You apologize so easily.” he mused.

“Acknowledging when you’re wrong is the first step to getting through an issue.”

Eris pursed his lips and then slowly nodded. “And I am sorry for what I said and how things had to be. It wasn’t fair to you either. My father knew exactly what to say to push my buttons and I walked right into it.”

Iris nodded in return, her frown deepening, and asked carefully, “Why does he do that? What does he get out of it when you do so much for him? Doesn’t he...care for you?”

Eris chuckled dryly. “My father cares for no one but himself,” he said. “He likes to make people feel small when he feels threatened by them. He hasn’t earned anyone’s respect in years, so he keeps things under control by fear. And punishment.”

Iris blinked then said slowly, “At some point...people will not be scared anymore.”

“Yes,” Eris answered carefully. “Fear eventually grows tiresome. But my father has a very hard time accepting that change is coming, whether he likes it or not.”

“You’ve talked about change and pieces at play but never elaborate.”

Eris observed her. “We will need to work on our trust issues more before I can give you additional information.”

Iris nodded slowly. “That seems fair.” she mumbled, and Eris’s lips curved up and he pushed the breakfast tray towards her. Iris bit her lip and then sat up. “I have one more thing to say about this subject.”

“Just one?” Eris said with a chuckle and Iris shot him a look, picking up her bread once more.

“Your father was outrageous. It’s hard to pick one thing.” she said, her nose scrunched up in disdain. “I don’t know how you’ve tolerated him all these years.”

“Pretending I’m frolicking in a field of daisies whenever he opens his mouth usually gets me through.”

Iris snorted and rolled her eyes, earning her a smirk from him. “Frolicking with a pretty flower crown, are you?”

“Oh, definitely,” he replied with a serious nod. “If Elain has taught me one thing, it’s that you must wear a flower crown while frolicking or you’re simply not doing it right.”

A chuckle slipped from her lips and Iris for once, shyly met his eyes. When the corner of his mouth ticked up, she looked back down at her hands. She sighed and then looked back at him, her expression more solemn.

“He had no right to speak to me that way. He had no right to speak to you that way either.”

“I agree.”

“What I want to say is, I do not want to be spoken to like that ever again.” Iris said firmly. “I will pretend I’m your simpering little wife all you want but I will not tolerate the threats and language like that. Not in this home as well.”

“Neither will I. Which is why it won’t happen again.” Eris said and Iris stilled at his tone.

“What does that mean?”

He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve and then slowly looked at his wife. “I don’t like people overstepping their boundaries with me. He can take it out on me all he wants but you’re my wife. I will not let it happen again. You should still watch your tone with him the same way I do but my father has been made aware that I will not take him speaking to you that way again lightly.”

Iris blinked then flushed lightly, pleasantly surprised. “So...we play his game?” she asked quietly and he gave her a tight nod.

“We play his game,” he confirmed. “Outside of this room, we play by his expectations. It is a lie, a façade. Inside this room, whenever we are alone, and outside of the court...we can be as we wish. Just you and me. As long as this is what you want.”

Iris bit the inside of her cheek, watching him carefully. It wasn’t different from anything he had told her before but...she was truly listening now. She could play games. She had tried to play her father’s games, even when it cost her. Now she would have a partner.

Just you and me.

“You’re willing to be my friend first, then?” she asked quietly.

“Friendship was the first thing I offered you.” he replied simply.

And it hit Iris then — how incredibly similar they were. A fact Eris seemed to have figured out early on.

He was someone who needed a person just as badly as she did.

So she finally said, “Then this is what I want.”

The corner of Eris’s mouth ticked up. “That’s helpful. I won’t have to waste time redecorating.”

She rolled her eyes and then quietly observed him as he finally picked a helping of food. Standing up to his father was a bold move and Eris was careful about all the moves he made. To do it because of her...

She waited until he had a few bites of food then carefully asked, “How did your father take it when you spoke to him about me?”

Eris paused for a moment then slowly replied, “We’ll see in a few days.”

Iris bit her lip, her brows furrowed, knowing what he meant. It would either pass or...Eris would pay for it.

Her face fell as guilt washed over her and Eris straightened.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” she immediately said and he furrowed his brows.

“We already stated our apologies.”

She shook her head. “If he decides he doesn’t like what you said because of me —” she started and pushed the tray away, feeling slightly nauseated. “I don’t want him to — if he decides to —”

But Eris held up a hand. “You don’t have to worry about that. I can handle my father. His choices are his own and he is the only one responsible for them.”

Iris bit her lip, glancing at him and then down at her lap. Her mouth wouldn’t cost just her now. Eris would be dragged into it by his father if she stepped out of line. He had thought about what his father would do to her if Eris didn’t behave accordingly but Iris hadn’t even considered what Beron would do to Eris because of her.

“I’ll watch myself better now.” she promised quietly. “I don’t want to give him any other reasons to hurt you.”

Eris stared at her, his expression unreadable but she saw the bob of his throat as he swallowed then nodded.

“I see we’ve reached an understanding then.” he said quietly and Iris nodded in return.

“We’ve reached an understanding.”

A sense of relief washed over the room, any tension between them easing. Iris stole a chance at him to find him watching her, his lips slightly pursed.

“What?”

He shook his head and then cleared his throat. “Now that we’re on the same page, I won’t have to hear your whining.”

Iris squinted at him but her expression softened when she saw the teasing look he gave her.

“You’re annoying.”

“You’re mean.”

“I haven’t slit your throat yet so how mean am I, really?” she said and gave him a pointed look.

Eris smirked and Iris knew whatever came out of his mouth next would be obnoxious.

“You must really have a thing for my neck, you constantly want to get your hands on it.”

“To choke the life out of you.”

“Don’t tease me, I’ll start moaning.”

Very slowly and without breaking eye contact, Iris flipped him off, earning her a soft chuckle.

“We’ll see what good that attitude of yours will do you once we start training.” he said, giving her an amused look.

“And when will we do that?” she asked, sitting up straighter.

“As soon as you’d like, wife.” he said with a lazy smirk. “I look forward to seeing what you’re made of.”

Iris sat back and met his gaze with a challenging look of her own. “And I look forward to giving you the ass-kicking you deserve, husband.”

#okay so one I HATE Beron and I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE IRIS AND ERIS #this chapter was a rollercoaster and I loved it #fic: spirit meets the bones #chapter xi

65 notes · View notes

goldenmagnolias · 22 days

Text

azriel x eris | 2,7k words | warnings: slightly vulgar wording | masterlist

Sunlight, peaking through the looming clouds high above the Illyrian mountains, makes the snow around them glitter. Fresh, crisp air brushes their faces, fills their lungs, and cools their sweat-drenched bodies. Snow threads through the trees, the branches and needles are covered in frost. Nothing but endless white. Thick layers of endless white, a few animal trails criss-crossing here and there, but other than that there is nothing but boundless snow and calm.

Well, it would be silent, weren’t it for the cheerful hollering of a single Illyrian male.

“Yes! Brothers! Yes!” Cassian throws his hands up in the air, tramples on the ground and then continues to cheer loudly. There is a radiant grin on his lips, so bright it rivals the sun high above in the sky on a beautiful summer day. “Look at the winner! The winner who is me – Cassian!”

When he is close enough to the other two, he wraps both his arms around his brothers‘ shoulders, mindful of the wings, of course, grinning triumphantly while pulling them to him. Rhysand huffs a laugh.

“It looks like the two of you lost. It looks like my brothers are losers,” he announces in a joyful, but not one bit gleeful, voice. He is only happy. “And I won. I’m the winner!”

Cassian squeezes his brothers tightly once again as they waddle through the ankle-deep snow, their boots already fully covered in the fluffy white.

Azriel sighs with amusement, craning his neck beneath the weight of Cassian’s muscular arm.

“It was close,” Rhys grumbles, and with a grin on his lips shakes his head at his best friend. “Really close.”

Cassian laughs again, the sound so loud and rich it bounces off the Illyrian mountains around them. He is truly happy about his victory and Azriel wants nothing more than to share his best friend’s happiness, to be happy for him, but at this moment it is hard to force those feelings. Happiness is once again hard to find within him, there is a spark of light, but it is barely there and he worries it extinguishes completely one day. Like a candle you blow out.

“I don’t think it was that close,” Cassian chuckles and then addresses his brother who has been silent until then, “what do you think, Azzy?“

“It was close.” As much as he tries to sound as happy as his brother does, his voice is colder, hoarse and obviously Cassian immediately knows that something is wrong.

Rhys does too. But he doesn’t say anything. There is something between them, a cold and unspoken words that have been there since last year's solstice. Since the incident with Elain…

The general‘s body goes rigid, his arm tensing around Azriel, his hold tightening. “You alright?” Cassian asks. He knows Azriel isn’t, but what else should he have said. He wants to check in, often doing so lately. He can’t stand when his brother is hurting, his own heart aching with his brother’s sadness.

Azriel doesn’t want Cassian to worry, not when he was just so joyful. It is his day, his snowball fight victory. So he nods and cracks a little smile, wanting nothing more than for his brother‘s happiness to return. “Just sour, I didn't win.”

Cassian chuckles to that, not fully believing him, but accepting his answer for now. “Next year you‘ve got another chance.”

“I’ll beat your ass then, Cass,” Azriel tells him and the smile on his lips feels a bit more natural then.

He tells himself that he needs to focus on these moments. These moments that truly matter. Just the three of them. A few years ago, they have finally gotten Rhys back and are now lucky enough to spend the snowball fight with him again. Azriel knows he has to treasure these moments and not dwell on his sadness. He has to enjoy the small moments in his life, those that remind him of his youth with his brothers, those careless moments where nothing and no one could bother them.

“Next year I will win,” Rhys says and both Azriel and Cassian burst into laughter.

“Right, Rhysie, if you say so.” Cassian pats his shoulder, his laughter sounding in the air around them.

Azriel smiles.

Even though he tries so hard to change his mindset, to focus on this moment, on the inside he still feels cold. Maybe the warmth of the birchin will help. He just wants to be inside, melting away in the heat, the steam clouding his mind until all negative thoughts vanish.

So when moments later this is the case, he exhales a long breath and rests his head against the wooden wall behind him, sitting in a sprawl, sweat already glistening on his skin. The heat slowly crawls beneath his skin, stimulating every cell of his body, the musky scent of his surroundings making a haze appear in his mind.

Hot curls of steam and the scent of pine and cedar mixed with the smell of some essential oil wrap around Azriel like a cloak that slowly pulls him toward oblivion. He exhales slowly, and his treacherous mind allows him to entertain thoughts he never imagined he would think about. Perhaps it's the warmth of the fire that triggers such fantasies.

But he sees him, clearly, right in front of him — Eris. With a smile on his lips, and a hooded gaze. Sweat also glistens on his pale skin. Most of his body is hidden by fog, or steam, yet the upper half, his pale skin, and all the corded muscles are bare. Eris’ hair is tied back in a low ponytail, his lush lips parting with every word he says. Yet, Azriel can’t make out a single thing he says, but he doesn’t care. He only watches him and relishes in the sight that is provided to him. He looks so good, Azriel thinks, even if this is just happening in his mind.

In his fantasy, Autumn Court male nears him, smirking and then he crouches down. Azriel feels how his cock hardens, something that shouldn’t fucking happen when he is in the birchin, nude as the day he was born. He tries to shake off the thoughts, not allowing his mind to go down this path.

He tries to direct his thoughts elsewhere – to Eris’ chest (which also doesn’t help). But if he remembers correctly, Azriel has never seen Eris without a jacket or shirt, he should have no idea what his chest looks like. And actually he doesn’t! Of course, he has never seen Eris without a shirt. This is all his imagination, it is not real, this is—

“You truly think Eris cares about him?”

Azriel's eyes snap open instantly, widening as he gazes at Cassian. Fuck, haven’t his mental shields been up? He panics the slightest bit, heart beating a tang faster.

“Lucien is his brother,” Rhys answers, his head hanging low between his knees, hands crossed behind his neck.

Cauldron be blessed, Azriel thinks, Cassian was talking about Lucien and not about him.

“That doesn’t mean he cares.” Cassian shakes his head, his lower arms braced on his strong thighs, hair unbound, falling in curls over his broad and sweat-glazed shoulders.

But Rhys shakes his head, a contemplative look on his face. His eyes touch Azriel’s when he says, “I think he cares. Eris is…many things. But I know he cares about some people. He cares about Lucien. He cares about his family.”

“He‘s a dickhead, first and foremost of all,” Cassian grumbles, and Azriel feels a sudden surge of anger within him that he can’t quite place nor find a reason for.

“But I have to admit you might be right. We don’t know what Beron does to him, or any of his brothers. Or what the hell Beron does to the Lady of the Autumn Court, so I guess you might be right. With everything he has seen and been through…there might be some people he wants to protect.” Cassian swallows and brushes a few curls of hair out of his face. “On the other hand, this also makes me wary – why he doesn’t finally act and put an end to it. Doesn’t he want to finally have change in his court? Change for good I mean.”

Rhysand blows out a long breath and straightens up. He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment, then gives his head a shake. “I know what this feels like, Cass.” Rhys brings up a hand and clears his face off the sweat. “You think that back then I had never thought of ending my father’s reign?”

The High Lord tips his head back. “As much as you hate them and want them to be gone, to put an end to it all, they are still your fathers. It is something you can’t do just like that. Something you need to prepare for. Because once it is done, you have to live with it.” He swallows thickly. “You have to live with the knowledge that you killed your own father. That your father’s blood was spilled by his own son’ hands.”

Azriel’s stomach squeezes at that. Rhys is right, he has never thought about it like that and he shouldn’t have Eris pushed like that back then. It was wrong.

Silence falls over them, each one of them probably digesting what Rhys has said.

“You believe that Beron tortures him?” Cassian asks after a moment. His shoulders are dropped, emotions Azriel can’t quite place swirling in the general’s eyes.

“I doubt there is anyone in his near surrounding he doesn’t torture."

The back of Azriel’s throat is aching, just like his jaw, grinding his teeth hard. His fingers flex and then curl toward his palms — the only possible way to keep the sudden fury somehow under control.

“He uses his,” —Cassian‘s gaze touches Azriel’s and then locks, sympathy within his brown eyes— “firepowers on Eris?”

It feels like Azriel’s whole body convulses and he needs to hold onto the bench beneath him to keep from breaking. Or…heading right for the Autumn Court, doing what Eris should have long done. Ending the High Lord of the Autumn Court’s life, making him bleed and suffer for everything he has done.

“We don’t know,” Rhys says, “and we also shouldn’t make speculations. Eris‘ business with his father is none of our concern.” He brushes his hair back. “Our concern is only Beron‘s death and the future of Prythian.”

But it isn’t, Azriel thinks. He has always thought…

Azriel shakes his head. He has no idea what he has always thought, but he has never considered that Eris might be equally afraid of fire as he himself is. Beron might torture him with fire. Eris asked about Azriel’s scars, maybe because similar scars grace his skin…

As awareness spreads, his chest tightens and starts to ache so fiercely he has to place his hand atop his heart. His throat constricts when he tries to swallow and suddenly he feels a little dizzy.

“And keeping Lucien safe,” Cassian adds.

“He will leave for the Mortal Lands tomorrow.” Rhys leans back against the wall, shoulders relaxed as if he is talking about the weather and not the possible danger that may be lurking in the Mortal Lands for Lucien.

“That’s safe?” Azriel asks, and turns his head to look at his brother.

Rhys shrugs a casual shoulder. “He wouldn’t change his mind. I talked to him, but he said he wanted to leave. We can’t force him to stay here, it is his decision, not ours.”

The High Lord exhales a long breath. “He is a warrior and Jurian is there as well, to fight and protect.”

“But also Vassa and you know who Vassa is connected to.” Honest worry rings in Cassian’s voice, his chest heaving with deep inhales.

Rhys only gives his head a little shake. “As I said before: he wants to leave and we can’t force him to stay here. It's Lucien's decision, not ours. In his life, many decisions have been taken from him. We have to allow him his freedom now.” The discussion is over for Rhys, that is clear.

“Lucien is a grown-up fae male, powerful and strong, if he considers going to the Mortal Lands right, then we should listen to him.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“Your brother?” The female’s voice is nothing more than a hushed whisper.

With a somber expression, Eris tilts his chin downward. “They talked about him in the meeting earlier. I need you to keep an eye on the lord now.”

“Lord Karbaron?” Cenka turns her big brown eyes to the heir of the Autumn Court who is towering over the small female. Her shoulders are slouched, her lower lip pouted the slightest bit while she is nibbling on it.

Cenke is his only spy. The only loyal person he has in this court, safe for his mother and maybe one or the other of his brothers. She is young, and in all honesty, Eris doesn’t really know where she comes from. He barely knows anything about her, only that she is loyal to him and that he can trust her – she has proven that over and over again.

Her long auburn hair is tied back into a tight braid that reaches down to her hips where there is a belt with many daggers. Daggers Eris has provided her with after hours and hours of secret training, preparing her for any kind of danger that she could possibly face in the future.

Slowly Eris dips his chin. He knows Lord Karbaron. He has been his father‘s closest advisor for centuries. Whatever the High Lord does, the Lord knows about.

“I need you to follow him. And bring me all the information you can get. I know he knows more than we think, more than anyone else in this court does.”

“More than you do?”

A cold chuckle leaves Eris. “Most definitely.”

Cenka dips her pale chin, fingers threaded in front of her body. Eris reaches forward to touch her – something he never does– and his broad hand fully grasps her small, bony shoulder. “I have faith in you. I know you can do this, Lady Cenka.”

She nods, purses her lips and determination fills her dark brown eyes. “I‘ll try my very best, Lord Eris. For a better future." She smiles, her whole face lighting up and in the next moment she is gone, the only hint of her former presence in his office the now open window she slipped out of.

Eris keeps his gaze on the window, a contemplative look passing over his face. He brings up his hand, rubs his palm over his chin and draws in a deep inhale. The long curtains, moving due to the breeze blowing in through the window, brush his shins, his eyes now focused on the rain drops, lazily falling from the sky.

He knows he can trust Cenka, she would never betray him. Not like his brothers. He can’t trust them. As much as he wants to, he can’t bring himself to fully trust them…but he will try.

Eris turns away from the window and finally closes it, his hands cold. He flexes his fingers when a kernel of remorse and worry takes root in his chest. What if Beron finds out about her, what if he finds her, what if—

He won‘t! There is no way Beron will find out that he also has a spy now. Cenka is brilliant at her job, almost like a shadow wrath, no one will catch her.

Afterall, she is not…a giant, idiotic bat that easily gets caught…

Which reminds him that he has a letter to send. Not only one actually, but a few. So, turning from the window, Eris stalks to his desk, pulls back the old oak chair and sits down.

Using a pen that once was a present from his mother, he starts to write – only a few cryptic words that the recipients will understand, but not Beron (if the letters should land in his hands) and then he sends off the letters and hope comes alive within his chest.

general Azris tag list: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams

#🥺🥺🥺🥺#fic: a court of covert desire #fic - Snow is Falling #azriel x eris #eris vanserra #azriel shadowsinger

39 notes · View notes