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lucienarcheron · 3 days

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Spirit Meets the Bones - XVII

Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse.

@abruisedmuse thank you for always being my sounding board bby <3

Find it all here.

Eris hadn’t even felt them winnow. He knew nothing — had sensed nothing, save for Iris and the feeling of her lips on his. All that he was, was being consumed by her.

She pulled away, a fraction of an inch between them, eyes wide as she stared into her husband’s amber eyes. She barely breathed as he stared and stared and stared.

Mine.

The word clanged in his mind as Iris gripped the front of Eris’s tunic tighter, her fingers tightening as she staggered back slightly. He wondered if she had felt it — the thread tugging at his rib. If she knew how suddenly everything between them made sense. The attraction. The constant need to touch. How right it had felt even when neither of them had wanted it to be.

The Prince of Autumn wondered if it had clicked for her, that Iris was his and he was hers in a way no one would ever be. Something he never thought he’d have. Something he hadn’t even dreamed of being worthy of.

His. She was his and he was hers.

Iris blinked, finally noticing the heat that radiated around them.

“We’re — we’re on fire.” she whispered, her eyes darting to the flames they were engulfed in then back to his face, cataloging what he was sure was a slightly dazed expression.

“I know.” he said tightly, his gaze never leaving hers.

Iris reached out a hand, letting the flame dance between her fingers. “It’s not burning.”

She watched him in a way that made him feel too vulnerable — too raw. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, then said hoarsely, “My fire would never burn you.”

And Iris flushed as the words washed over her. At the honesty of them. His fire would burn whomever he wished except for one person — a person he could never harm.

“Oh.” she whispered, her eyes darting across his face and the many emotions Eris knew he was fighting to hide.

But she must feel the sheer amount of intensity between them. She must know.

“Iris —” he rasped and licked his lips. “I —”

“Shut up.” she breathed and met his lips again, pulling him into her once more, and oh, what a kiss.

Eris’s kiss was an imprint on her very soul and Iris felt and felt and felt. Iris felt so deeply, she wished she hadn’t wasted a single kiss on anyone else.

She let him tighten his grip and a noise slipped from her lips when his tongue met hers. She wouldn’t let him stop — would simply keep going. They didn’t need to see anyone. They could go home and keep kissing. They could sink right here, out in the open, and simply keep kissing.

“If you don’t stop —” Eris said in between the heated kisses, his hands squeezing her waist, then sliding to squeeze lower and the feeling of his hands on her had gooseflesh erupting all over her skin. “Nothing will stop me from letting this get inappropriate very quickly.”

“If you stop kissing me —” she whispered against his lips, arching into his touch. “I will stab you in so many places —”

He pulled away with a laugh and Iris truly wanted to gut him. But she also wanted to kiss him again and — and have him touch her some more. Face heated, she tried to yank him down to her lips again but Eris smirked, his hands coming to grip her face. She tried not to shudder at the reverent way he held her, at the way his thumbs traced her cheeks so gently. His lips were smirking but his eyes gave away all that he was feeling. It mirrored all that she was feeling.

“Please don’t stab me.” he said in a tone more gently than he had ever used with her, his gaze matching the whirlwind of emotions blazing through her. “I want to keep kissing you but can’t if I’m bleeding out all over my nice clothes.”

Iris couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her lips. “Such a pretty princess you are.”

“The most pretty of princesses.” he confirmed with a smirk then leaned in and kissed her once more. This kiss a caress, a little hello as they met in the middle. Iris’s hands slid down and she splayed her fingers on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat and Eris growled against her lips, sending a shiver of delight down her spine.

His lips left hers and Iris was about to protest when his hands slid to wrap around her waist again and he kissed the corner of her mouth instead then slid to pepper her jawline with more. Her knees nearly buckled beneath her when his lips slid to her neck and his tongue darted out to taste. She bit her lip to hold back a groan as Eris’s mouth explored and he certainly had no qualms about the noises that slipped from his lips.

“You have terrible timing.” he whispered into her skin and Iris’s grip tightened on him. “How am I going to endure this visit now that I’ve gotten a taste of you? How am I supposed to pretend I don’t want to lay you here and taste every inch of you, Iris?”

“I won’t apologize for giving you an excellent thank-you gift.” she said breathlessly, her lips twitching when his head lifted from her neck to smirk at her. “You’ve only wanted it since you met me.”

“True.” he said quietly, his eyes holding the predatory gleam she knew so well. “I demand about a thousand more of them.”

The corner of her mouth curled up as Iris slid her hands around his waist and up his back, feeling every inch of his hard muscles through the layers of his clothing. Her eyes were glued to his as they stared at each other once more, the silence between them holding a steady, palpable tension. She wanted him closer, especially as his grip on her tightened again.

It was thrilling. To touch each other so openly, so easily. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself other than kiss him some more. Iris may have hesitated before but now — it seemed hard to resist.

“I think I can manage that,” she whispered. “But we might be late.”

“I don’t give a shit.” Eris murmured and pressed his lips against hers again. And it wasn’t so much of a kiss as it was an ascension to heaven.

Iris let out a soft whimper as Eris kissed her fiercely, their kiss a clash of fire. Heat like no other spread between them, their hearts ticking bombs, a volcano of emotions erupting; hands roaming, and suddenly, they couldn’t get close enough. It was an intensity she could barely process, could barely keep up with — but all Iris knew was this deep desire to stay wrapped in him.

“Eris.” she breathed into him and then gasped when he pressed her firmly into him, feeling exactly how much he liked her lips on his. He kissed her deeply, swallowing her moans and every touch of his fingers sent a wave of pleasure that seemed to be unraveling her. She felt invigorated and Iris knew she was melting against him, knew she had become putty in his hands when she felt Eris’s smile against her lips.

“See what you’ve been missing, wife?” he murmured against her lips.

“B-barely much.” she breathed and felt his chuckle tickle her lips as she leaned into him, unable to stop the constant need to have their lips meet.

“Think of all the other places I will kiss you when we go home, ma —”

But Eris stiffened, the flame that had encased them immediately flaring out and Iris froze in his arms. Her brows furrowed in confusion until the sound of someone approaching became clearer and Eris’s entire demeanor changed. A blink was all it took for Eris’s face to fall back into the sneer he was known for. Another blink had Eris now in front of her, hands clasped behind his back, tension hardening the line of his shoulders as he faced away from her.

“What —”

“Helion may have granted me permission but that doesn’t mean I am always welcome whenever I visit.” he said quietly as the footsteps approached. His stance had hardly shifted but Iris knew he would be ready to strike. “If needed, you winnow right back —”

“Why would I leave?” Iris demanded. “I know how to fight! You taught me.”

“I know that.” he snapped as he looked at her over his shoulder. “But I’d rather wait to know what I’m up against before throwing my m — my wife into —”

“No.” she objected, jutting out her chin. “I’m not going to leave you.”

Eris’s jaw clenched, cutting himself off when her firm gaze met his and he shuddered. “You’re going to end up being my biggest source of anxiety, aren’t you?” he mumbled with a scowl as she shifted next to him.

“I don’t have to be.” she said with a quirked brow and Eris noted the way she was leaning into his side, staring up at him challengingly. “Don’t try and make this my fault.”

“If you insist on being stubborn all the time and not following directions, it will be.” he said through clenched teeth and flared nostrils, his gaze ravenous as he looked at her.

Iris swallowed as she watched him but then narrowed her eyes in return, her hands sliding to her hips as she leaned in closer. “I’m happy to follow directions if they make sense and those directions are something I actually want to do.”

“You’re supposed to follow directions even if you don’t want to.” he retorted, his eyes now on her lips, inches away from his. “Especially if it concerns your safety.”

“I don’t think my safety would be jeopardized if I’m with you, husband.” Iris replied, though her tone had no heat in it as the closeness of him threatened to overwhelm her.

Eris’s own eyes narrowed and he snorted softly. “Your safety would absolutely be jeopardized if you were with me. Because you’re with me. Enough people dislike me to target you.”

“Well. It’s a good thing I have a knife then.” she shrugged, without losing his gaze.

“And an attitude of reckless endangerment. What an excellent combination,” he said, baring his teeth in a smile that would be threatening to most. Iris had to fight back the urge to kiss him all over again.

“I can hold my own just fine.” she said firmly and hesitated before lowering her arms from her waist and gently placing a hand on his arm. “You should just listen to me and make things easy for yourself.”

What Iris really wanted to say was, You’re my friend and my person. I don’t want to leave your side. Instead, she added, “Stop being an idiot.”

“I’m going to throttle you if you keep arguing with me over this.” he mused calmly, his hand coming to settle over hers without a single hesitation. “Your safety is non-negotiable.”

“Neither is yours.” she argued, and Eris tried not to roll his eyes.

“You know I’ve fought in wars, yes? I will be fine.”

“You are a fool that is very close to getting stabbed.”

“I am a prince who most definitely does not want to get stabbed.”

“A prince that is a pain in the ass.”

“You are on thin ice with my patience, wife.”

“Oh? And what are you going to do about it, husband?”

The two shared a breath as they seemingly forgot what the source of their argument was, too engrossed in staring at each other and fighting the urge to desperately touch again. Iris didn’t know if she had it in her to stop if they started again and Eris would definitely not be inclined to stop at all.

Iris licked her lips. “If I kiss you again, will you relax?”

A soft smirk graced his face. “If you kiss me again, I will be the farthest thing possible from relaxed.”

“Hmm.” she mused. “I should definitely kiss you then. That’ll get you to shut up at least.”

“Maybe I should kiss you so you’d quit being so damn stubborn.”

Overwhelming need thumped through her veins as she stared at him and he stared at her. Had a simple kiss intensified whatever it was she was feeling now? It — it seemed ridiculous. Iris licked her lips again as she glanced at Eris, his gaze turning positively wicked. But as she opened her mouth to speak and put an end to this madness, another voice interrupted.

“If I were anyone else, you’d both be very dead by now.”

Eris’s sword flew out faster than Iris could blink, his eyes never leaving his wife as Iris whipped her head at the sound of the stranger’s voice and found who could only be their gracious host glancing at them.

And Lucien was very, very amused.

“I hope I’m not interrupting what seemed to be a very charged argument, brother dear.”

Eris finally looked away from Iris to shoot his brother a glare as Lucien stood there, hands raised by his head and a knowing smirk on his face with Eris’s sword at his throat. Eris spared Iris one more glance and squinted at the faint color gracing her lovely face, sensing her embarrassment.

“You’re lucky I didn’t stab you in the throat.” he said tightly, his body relaxing as he slowly sheathed his sword once more and scowled at his brother.

“I’m so thrilled at your enthusiasm to see me.” Lucien said with a grin, lowering his arms. “Somehow, I knew it was you causing fires on the outskirts of my home.”

“Ah, fuck off.” Eris said with a wave of his hand as Lucien chuckled and Iris fought back a smile.

“I take it this isn’t the first time you brothers have drawn swords at each other.” Iris said lightly.

“Look at his obnoxious face. How could I not?” Eris demanded and Lucien snorted.

“If anyone here has cause to stab someone, it would be me stabbing you for being rude all the time.” Lucien said, crossing his arms. “I know that note came from you, asshole.”

Iris’s lips twitched and Eris watched her curiously as she raised her hand. “I would like to say, legally speaking, I am the only one allowed to stab him at this point,” she said calmly. “But since you are his brother, I will allow it if you ask nicely.”

Lucien glanced at Iris and tilted his head. He silently observed her for a moment and then smiled. “We’ve only just met and I am certain we will be the best of friends.”

Iris smiled warmly and held out a hand. “Agreed.” she said. “Iris. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the only brother Eris admits to having. You must be so proud.”

Lucien took her hand with both of his hands and squeezed it. “Lucien. And the pleasure is all mine.” he replied with a grin. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you since I heard about your engagement. You’ve been within choking distance of my brother on a daily basis. I am very jealous.”

“He is very chokeable, isn’t he?” Iris said and glanced at Eris, her lips twitching at the deep scowl on his face.

And it was a deep scowl indeed because Eris — he was feeling too many things at the moment. The high of kissing her was wearing off and now — now it was starting to catch up to him.

Frankly, he was going to start freaking the fuck out.

He…he had a mate. His wife was his mate. And he’d fucken finally kissed her. He had wanted to kiss her some more and possibly slowly peel that damned dress off her — goodness knows he had made an art out of fucking outdoors that he knew Iris would enjoy it too — except of course, of course, his insufferable brother just had to interrupt.

He should’ve stabbed him when he had the chance.

Eris glanced at Iris and Lucien as they chatted softly. He heard nothing of what they were saying, only watched their lips moving and his heart did a strange spasm at the sight. Two important people of his life smiling at each other, likely talking about him, finally meeting.

He had the strongest urge to vomit.

Squinting himself back to reality, Eris’s face heated at the sound of Iris laughing and the urge to strangle his brother skyrocketed when Lucien high-fived Iris. They already had inside jokes. He wasn’t sure if he liked it.

“I am immediately objecting to this friendship.” he snapped then squinted at Lucien and pointed with one finger, his other hand clasping around Iris’s hand to tug her closer. “Keep your hands off my wife.”

Lucien rolled his eyes and then gave his brother a curious look. “Sensitive today, are we, brother?”

“One more word out of you and I’ll show you exactly how sensitive I can be.” he sneered and glanced down at Iris when she nudged his side.

She gave him a pointed look. “We just arrived. Be nice.”

“But I don’t like him.” Eris argued calmly and Iris rolled her eyes.

“Should I tell him what you said to me the first time I asked you about him to debunk that statement?”

Eris’s eyes narrowed as he took in his beautiful wife’s teasing expression and gods, if Lucien wasn’t standing right there, he’d devour her.

“I have no recollection of such a conversation,” he said haughtily then promptly turned to his brother. “Take us to your better half. I like her more than I like you.”

Lucien shot Eris a look that was too knowing for his own good; it was easy to see that Lucien already had so much he wanted to say and it made Eris want to winnow home and avoid the whole thing. As if sensing that one word from him would send Eris bolting, all Lucien did was wave a gracious hand and walk them toward his home.

And now, they sat in Lucien and Elain’s home, trying to pretend the kiss and grand revelations hadn’t happened. Trying to pretend everything was fine and they hadn’t been interrupted.

Desperately trying not to pounce on his wife.

Elain had given them such a warm welcome, Eris would forever be grateful to her for making Iris comfortable right away and he tried to focus, to pay attention to the conversation around them as two of his favorite people got to know each other. He nearly choked on his drink twice.

His mate.

Everything suddenly made so much sense.

And simultaneously, everything just got so much worse.

He sensed Iris watching him and his hands tightened around his glass. She had no idea, did she? He wasn’t sure if Iris was actually aware of what Eris had figured out. He also hadn’t had a chance to really process what happened and it was all too much. He couldn’t look at her for too long — everything in him ached when he did. Was this what a mating bond was supposed to feel like?

Someone that was all his own. Someone that was his in a way no one would ever be.

He hated it. This feeling of losing control. Having feelings at all.

Having a mate.

Oh gods, he liked that more than he’d care to admit.

He shot back his drink in one gulp then held out his glass that Lucien warily refilled. Iris gave him a bewildered look as she placed her own glass gently on the table then turned back to Elain and Lucien who were watching the two of them with barely contained amusement.

“You have such a beautiful home.” she finally said with a smile. “It’s so cozy and welcoming.”

“Thank you!” Elain said brightly. “Lucien and I really wanted a place that felt that way. Neither of us is much for fanfare.”

“If it was up to Helion, we would be living lavishly inside his obnoxious palace but he was nice enough to let us venture on our own here.” Lucien said with a chuckle.

“That’s very generous of him.” Iris commented. “I didn’t realize you had such a close relationship with him.”

Lucien stole a glance at a mute Eris who only glared at his brother and then gave Iris a small smile. “He has been incredibly good to us both.”

“Eris mentioned you play the piano beautifully.” Elain jumped in with a smile. “Lucien plays really well too! You two will have to play us a song together at some point.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.” Iris said, smiling widely, and glanced at Eris who still avoided looking at her. “I’d love that! This one has never offered.”

“That’s because he’s terrible at it.” Lucien said with a mischievous grin towards his brother. “Did Eris ever tell you about the one and only time he attempted to play the piano? He was so bad at it, that the instructor resigned almost immediately due to the levels of distress he caused.”

Iris raised her brows at her husband who rolled his eyes at the chuckles around him and finally spoke stiffly, “That idiot was terrible at his job, stuttering like an imbecile. How am I expected to learn to play the piano if his fingers were trembling all over the place?” he asked indignantly.

“As if a measly instructor could stand against the wrath of a tiny Eris.” Elain teased.

“You must’ve petrified him immediately,” Iris commented with a small smile and glanced his way. Eris licked his lips, his gaze flickering to Iris’s mouth and then back up at her eyes.

“I like instilling fear. It gets people to do what I want much quicker.”

“I doubt that always works for you, does it?”

“There has ever only been one exception, wife.” he replied with a raised brow and Iris flushed, the atmosphere between them immediately tensing.

It took all of his willpower not to pounce on her instantly. He hadn't tasted anything he’d been offered since they arrived and if Lucien and Elain noticed the scent change, they were gracious enough not to show it. His mind kept wandering to what her skin would taste like. What she would look like when he had her splayed before him and spread those lovely thighs to —

He scowled immediately. This was absolutely ridiculous. He was more self-composed than this. Eris would not let himself become an imbecile just because they had kissed and happened to be mates. He stole a glance at his wife as she continued conversing with their hosts.

Mine.

His grip tightened on his glass. In a way, this reaction made absolute sense with the way they’d moved so carefully around each other before. Were they both so pathetic that kissing would seemingly destroy the self-control they had?

Eris swallowed, ignoring another look from Lucien, focusing only on the drink in his hand. As long as Iris didn’t move too close to him or touch him, he would be fine. He could be composed. He was a Prince.

Who really, really, really wanted to kiss his wife again. And do many, many other things to her.

He stole another glance at Iris and immediately regretted it as she smiled at Lucien then much to his dismay, cautiously placed a hand on Eris’s thigh as she continued, “Eris mentioned you —”

She didn’t get a chance to finish the statement as the glass in his hand shattered and Iris’s head snapped towards her husband in shock.

A beat of silence passed then Eris glanced down at what remained of the glass in his hand and blinked up at his brother. “I think my drink was too strong.” he said lamely.

He shouldn’t have looked at her again but he did and swallowed as Iris’s mouth fell open then closed, baffled for a moment, her eyes flickering between his tense face and his now bleeding hand. She blanched at the sight.

“Are you alright?” Iris demanded and despite her tone, gently took his hand in hers to inspect it.

“I don’t think you should do that.” Eris said tightly. If she kept touching him, he would not make it through the rest of the day.

“You’re bleeding.” she snapped. “You might have little pieces of glass stuck in your hand and I don’t want you to —”

“Iris — wait —”

“— I need to clean it and then —”

“Lucien.” Eris snapped, snatching his hand out of Iris’s grip, and glanced at his brother with wide eyes. “I need to walk off this drink.”

“I — okay.” Lucien said with a confused glance to his wife then shot his brother a bewildered look. “We can take a walk outside.”

Iris frowned at her empty hands then looked up at Eris, annoyed. “Well, let me clean your hands first, Eris.”

“I can get something for that — “ Elain began but Eris cut everyone off as he stood abruptly.

“I need fresh air.” he said hoarsely and gestured to the shattered glass. “Nobody touches that. I will clean it.”

“Eris – “ Iris tried again but he whirled rather wildly towards her and she froze.

“Wife.” he rasped. “If I stay here for another moment, I will do something very, very stupid and will not have a single slither of regret. Now, if you will all excuse me, I will walk this drink off.”

And the three of them watched silently as Eris briskly exited the room.

Lucien paused for a moment and looked at Iris curiously as she stared after her husband in disbelief.

“Well.” Elain blinked. “That was rather dramatic of him.”

“I can’t believe him.” she muttered then turned to Elain. “I’m so sorry for the mess. I don’t know what made that happen but let me go check on —.”

“I’ll go see what’s wrong.” Lucien interrupted gently. “He’s my brother. I can handle this.”

Iris took a step forward but paused as Lucien waved her off with a reassuring smile. She gave Lucien a tight smile in return as he left to follow Eris and bit her lip. He had — that was — she wasn’t sure what that was but Iris could only stand dumbfounded.

“That doesn’t mean they’re going to hit each other, does it?” Iris asked quietly after a moment, her eyes still searching for wherever Eris had escaped to.

“Maybe, but it’s all done lovingly,” Elain said and Iris turned to find her holding back a laugh. “Being affectionate with each other makes them nauseous.”

“Not surprising in the slightest.” Iris said then shook her head with a sigh, holding out her hands. “I’m sorry if things are…tense.”

Elain’s lips twitched. “Don’t even worry about it…first meetings and all.” she began gently. “Did something happen before you came? You seem to be worried about him.”

Iris flushed instantly and looked away from Elain towards the door Eris had exited from.

Did something happen? Why, yes. She had finally kissed her husband and had been about two seconds away from climbing him like a tree. Iris bit her lip and glanced at Elain who encouragingly patted Iris’s arm.

“Don’t feel pressured to say anything. I just want to make you feel comfortable.”

Iris groaned. “You’re so nice. I’m sorry we’re being — whatever this is.” she immediately said, waving a hand and Elain laughed.

“It’s fine! You have no idea how strange it is to see Eris with a wife.”

“You have no idea how strange it is being Eris’s wife.” she said with a huff of laughter. “He’s so…. ridiculous. What kind of exit was that!”

“He’s always been that way.” Elain said with a chuckle. “But don’t worry, I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Oh, I’m not too worried. I’m definitely going to choke him later for this.”

Elain raised a brow then smiled knowingly. “Will you? You seemed very concerned a few moments ago.”

Iris blinked then as calmly as possible said, “I can’t stand him actually.”

“You’re about to break your neck to see him through the window.”

“I want to break his neck,” Iris replied, momentarily distracted when she saw her husband pass by said window. She could tell he was frustrated by his pacing and it made her tense. Was he — was he truly upset by the timing of their kiss? She knew he liked it but something — something had shifted his thought process. Iris had hardly been given a moment to really think it all through, but Eris seemed ready to launch himself into the sun.

It was just a kiss. A kiss that felt so…right. At least for her.

Iris narrowed her eyes at the open window even though Eris hadn’t passed by it again. Had she done something wrong? Was it bothering him that she was friendly with Lucien after all the jokes she made about him? She blinked. That couldn’t be it. He had been looking forward to them being friends.

“Yes, that is the exact look someone has when they want to break someone’s neck.” Elain said with a laugh and Iris turned back to her sister-in-law. She gave Elain a sheepish smile and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Again, I’m sorry.” she said quietly, her fists clenching then unclenching. “We had a…difficult morning before coming here and then had a bit of a moment right before we came —”

“Yes, Lucien mentioned something about that.” Elain said and Iris’s face flushed again at the grin on her face. She opened her mouth then closed it, brows furrowed.

“How?” she then demanded. “He was with us the whole time.”

“Mating bond,” was all Elain offered then giggled at Iris’s indignant expression. “I have to say, I’m very happy that you two seem to be getting along well.”

“Did you miss the part where I said I wanted to break his neck?”

Which, of course, was a lie anyone could see right through. Iris wanted to kiss his neck maybe. See how he liked it if Iris decided to get a taste of him the way he had teased her outside.

“Getting along very well, it seems.” Elain said and Iris was mortified to realize the scent of the room had changed.

“Oh gods.” came her response and Elain let out a hearty laugh as Iris covered her face. “I’m so sorry. This is disgusting. We just met — I’m in your home — this is absolutely his fault for behaving like a —”

Elain only patted her back sympathetically and tried not to laugh again. “Please, don’t apologize. This is extremely amusing.” she said. “Besides, I lived with my sister and her mate for a while. I’ve learned to very quickly tune out anything I don’t wish to see, smell, or hear.”

Iris pursed her lips, squinting at Elain who poorly attempted to hide her glee.

“To be fair, this is our first time out in public where we can be comfortable with each other.” Iris muttered, fingers smoothing down the fabric of her dress. “Usually, we have to pretend I’m a doormat and he’s a maniac.”

“Oh, I understand.” Elain said with a snort, “Try to pretend you don’t want to jump his bones while your sisters and their friends are all in one room.”

Iris tilted her head curiously. “Eris mentioned you and Lucien took time to get to know each other.”

Elain smiled down at her hands. “I had a hard time coming to terms with turning fae and getting a mate all in one breath.” she said and glanced at Iris. “Once I let myself give Lucien a chance, it was a whole different battle trying not to have everyone else know I wanted him just by being in the same room.”

The corner of Iris’s mouth lifted at Elain’s expression. “I bet Lucien enjoyed that.”

“He kept behaving like a true gentleman which only made me feel like a wild woman desperate to get his clothes off.”

Iris laughed then gave Elain a pointed look, thinking of every moment her husband had said the most scandalous things to her. “Yeah, no. Eris is just a heathen. Nothing gentlemanly there.”

Elain snorted. “Sure.” she teased. “Judging by the glass all over my floor, I’d say he’s struggling a lot more than you think.”

At the reminder, Iris rubbed a hand to her forehead, roses blooming on her cheeks. He had been right. Kissing him right before this visit had been a terrible idea. Now she wanted to hurtle herself into the sun.

“I should go check on him.” she said quietly, giving Elain a small smile. “As much as I want to punch him in the face much of the time, I — I want to make sure he’s okay.”

Elain’s gaze softened and she shared Iris’s smile. “He’ll be fine, Lucien pushes his buttons but he’ll make sure Eris is okay.”

Iris nodded slowly, her gaze back towards the open window where she could see Eris and Lucien talking in the distance. She had to fight back the urge to follow him and instead turned back to Elain, who was watching her with that same smile.

Flushing, Iris let out a nervous chuckle. “Sorry. This is all…” she started and waved a hand. “Very new for me.”

Elain chuckled. “I’ll bet.” Her sister-in-law watched her for a moment then spoke gently, “He’s been very lonely, you know.” she said. “He pretends otherwise but…I think he’s needed someone like you for a long while now.”

Iris felt her smile slowly slide off her face and she glanced down at her hands.

“Eris always says how we’re two sides of the same coin,” she began in a low voice. “The more time I spend with him, the more I see how much we work well together. How much we…match.”

Even if it scared the living shit out of her.

“It didn’t start off that way though, did it.” Elain said, the corner of her mouth ticking up.

Iris shook her head and said softly, “No, it did not…but I think we were meant to find each other. Unpleasant circumstances aside, I…am glad for it.” She licked her lips and tugged gently at her ear. “I’m assuming he, uh, mentioned how we got married.”

“He might have.” Elain said slyly and Iris rolled her eyes.

“He comes by here often enough, doesn’t he?” she asked with a chuckle as she glanced around the home. “My beautiful flowers are always from you.”

Elain laughed and reached out to squeeze Iris’s hand. “I hope that’s okay.” she said gently. “I’m always so happy he feels comfortable sharing with Lucien and me. They haven’t had it easy. We’ve gotten a lot closer.”

Elain gave Iris a warm smile as she continued, “Despite the rough start you two had, I’m glad he has you to shake him up and get him out of the mold everyone keeps trying to shove him in.” she said. “You see him. And he needs that more than anything. He isn’t used to kind or gentle and Eris may not want that all the time but he certainly needs it.”

Kindness. Iris thought about that word and what her mother-in-law had told her.

“You and Lady Enya share similar thoughts.”

“She is our mother-in-law and we both strongly disliked her sons at first.” Elain said with a wink. “This wouldn’t be the first time she’s dealt with this.”

Iris let out a chuckle, smoothing down her dress again. “The last thing I ever expected was Eris Vanserra to be kind to me.” she said quietly. “It’s been so…unexpected.”

Elain smiled knowingly. “I felt so wary of Lucien at first. I didn’t want anything to do with him.” she said then shrugged as her smile turned fond. “But we were meant to find each other too. He was my mate for a reason and despite the circumstances of our meeting, Lucien was one of the best things that happened to me.”

A mate. Gods, Iris thought. She had gone into this marriage barely wanting a husband but now…she not only had a husband, but a friend. She wondered if…would it be silly to think that Eris could be her mate? The intensity between them would certainly make sense but…mates were equals in some way and Eris…well, she certainly was not on equal footing.

He was the son of a High Lord. She was the daughter of a fiend.

A shitty father was the common denominator between them but…he was still hers now. Her husband.

And her shitty father couldn’t take that away from her.

The word mine flashed through her mind.

She pursed her lips and rubbed at her forehead gently. Too much was happening so fast. Too many emotions, too many feelings. Iris wasn’t so sure she was ready for everyone to know exactly how she was feeling. Until she felt brave enough to figure it out.

“I…tolerate him.” she finally said and Elain rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Right.”

Iris gave her sister-in-law a pointed look, changing the subject. “He speaks so highly of you. I want to know more about you and Lucien. I’d love to know what it’s been like to live in this court.”

“And know more about Eris too, I presume?” Elain asked and it was Iris’s turn to roll her eyes at the suggestive look on her sister-in-law’s face.

“If you’d like to share.” Iris said casually. “I guess it would be interesting to know what he’s like through your eyes.”

“You guess, huh?” Elain asked with a wiggle of her brow and Iris’s lips twitched.

“I wouldn’t say no to whatever you decided to share.” she said with an air of indifference and Elain laughed.

“The first time I was in direct contact with him after the war was at a ball.” Elain began with a grin. “We didn’t even speak to each other, we just observed each other from a distance. I think he was trying to scope me out and tell Lucien about me.” She rolled her eyes with another fond smile. “He ended up proposing to my sister that evening.”

“Did he now?” Iris asked with as light of a tone as possible. She would not get jealous of something that happened before her time or of Elain’s mysterious sister who had to be magnificent to get a reaction like that from Eris. Nope, she would not be jealous at all.

Elain froze. “Had he not mentioned that?” she squeaked and Iris snorted.

“No, but I am very intrigued,” she said. “Please Elain, don’t hold back now.”

Like a deer caught in the wild, Elain blinked rapidly as her cheeks turned pink and Iris couldn’t help but laugh.

“I think I should stop talking.” Elain said promptly.

“And I think we should take a walk in your beautiful garden that Eris is always raving about and make fun of my husband.” Iris said with a pointed look. “You’re the only one I can get true intel from, Elain.”

Elain groaned, covering her face with her hands which only made Iris smile. “I shouldn’t have said anything! I feel terrible!”

Iris chuckled and nudged her with a shoulder. “There’s nothing to feel terrible about. This was before my time and besides, you really expect Eris to tell me about something like that?” she said with an eye roll. “Eris sharing anything is like him trying to pass a kidney stone the size of a building.”

Elain snorted and then doubled over laughing. “Oh, you! I like you.” she said and then gave her a sly look. “You’re right. Let’s take a walk and get to know each other better. I’ll spill some secrets while we’re at it that you absolutely did not get from me.”

Looping an arm through Elain’s, Iris patted her hand. “Secrets? What secrets?” Iris said airily. “We’re just going to take a walk and you’re going to tell me all about your lovely garden.”

“Of course.” Elain agreed with a serious nod. “Nothing about your husband, of course.”

“Naturally. Talking about him is nauseating.”

Elain let out a laugh and shook her head. “Yes, so nauseating you can’t keep your eyes off him for a moment.”

And indeed, the moment Iris stepped outside, her eyes locked in on her husband and his pacing once more. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #elucien #eris vanserra fanfiction #eris x oc #smtb chapters #gfics #thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy seeing elain and lucien here hehe #if you'd like to be tagging or removed (no hard feelings!) please let me know!#going to put the tags in the replies because it doesn't work in the damn post

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dawneternal · 21 hours

Text

The Benevolent | Eris x Healer OC | Three

☁︎ notes: sorry it took so long to get this one out 💛

Clementia really is the goddess of mercy and healing but I made up the part about the feathers. There will be more half real/half made up references to mythology so buckle in lol also Eris is kind of Cardan-coded in this chapter

☁︎ warnings: talk of injuries, talk of Beron's abuse, drunk characters

☁︎ word count: 1.9k

☁︎ AO3 Link / Masterlist

☁︎ tags: @cauldronblssd @mybestfriendmademe @teddyhoneybear @tele86 @imma-too-many-fandoms @allyjoe755 @milswrites @shadowdaddies @zenkindoflove

The ring summoned Aya again nearly a week later, just as she had finally made it back to her dorm room in the Healer’s wing. Lessons had run late, after which she had been called to a family dinner by Thesan. Her feet were sore and the pair of clean pajamas waiting on her bed called to her. Her heart leapt into her throat at the thought of what sort of injuries had prompted that ring to glow, regret sinking its claws deeper into her gut. Another long night of keeping Eris’s soul tethered to his being?

She heaved a deep sigh, shouldered her bag once more, and winnowed away from her cozy room.

The designated winnow spot was in Edana’s private courtyard, surrounded on all four sides by her rooms. The Lady had carved a spot out of the wards - or had bribed someone to do it. Edana or one of her two trusted guards were to wait for Aya in the courtyard. The written copy of the bargain details instructed that if anyone else were to ever greet her, she was to winnow back to the Dawn Court without speaking to them.

All very calming, naturally.

Tonight, one of Edana’s guards met Aya in the courtyard, which she considered a good sign. The guard did not say anything, only nodded in greeting before turning on his heel. Aya shivered in the Autumn chill and trailed after him. No one had told Aya the guards’ names yet, and she was too shy to ask. They were a little intimidating, stone-faced and armed to the teeth. Obviously, they cared about Edana's safety a great deal, and she had not stopped to wonder what they thought of the Lady hiring a strange healer and adding her piece to this hidden game board.

The dark-haired man led her through Edana’s sitting room to the stone passageways. She followed him through the dim, winding halls, finding them to be as deathly silent as the first night. She was beginning to wonder if the whole house had a curfew, or if they had all simply adopted this code of silence as a means of survival. Everything had been tainted such a suspicious color after that first night.

His feet made no sound against the stone floor, even in those heavy, clunky-soled boots. Aya followed suit, keeping her steps light, though her satin slippers would not have made much noise anyways.

When she crossed through the wards into Eris’s rooms, a wall of commotion wrapped itself around her, such a contrast from the silent hall that it made her jump. Eris was cursing and arguing with his mother, the second guard attempting to aid her in holding him down. Aya’s widened eyes flicked to the couch by the hearth where a bruised and bleeding man lay unconscious. Or sleeping. He was nearly a copy of Eris - redheaded and tall, with broader shoulders and bulky muscles.

“They got drunk and had a fight,” Edana sighed as Aya made her way to the big bed.

“Bastard had it coming,” Eris spat loudly, trying again to free his arm from his mother’s grasp."

“Stay still,” Edana snapped, “You were stabbed, for Mother’s sake.”

Aya gasped at that, and Eris turned his head toward the sound. He had not even noticed her come in, too focused on earning his freedom. When his gaze landed on the healer he let out a cry of delight and held a bloody hand toward her without even so much as wincing.

“All is well,” Eris pronounced, “Clementia has arrived.”

“Hush,” Edana hissed, “Or your father will hear you.”

Aya’s skin felt hot, her stomach dropping in fear of the knowledge that the High Lord was at home tonight. She chewed her lip and set her satchel on the edge of the bed. Eris was still as a statue now, watching her with interest.

“Clementia is an angel of mercy,” Edana said to Aya, rolling her eyes as other guard chuckled. “He likes to read mythology.”

Aya’s cheeks burned and she looked down at the heir, his amber eyes fixed on her. She shook her head and grabbed a wet rag from the side table. She was familiar with Clementia’s legend but she had not made the connection of who Eris thought she was.

“Did you receive my prayer of thanks?” Eris asked, a hand clutched to his chest like he must brace himself in her presence. He still did not wince as she pulled up his shirt and began to clean his injury. It was shallow for a stab wound, but it certainly would not heal well if he started thrashing around again. She could humor him if it meant he stayed calm.

The second guard, blond and bearded, started to laugh at Eris’s smitten gaze, but Edana shot him a look that shut him up. The Lady turned her attention to her other son, out cold on the couch.

“Yes,” Aya said to Eris, gently moving away the hand that attempted to cover his wound. His bloody fingers wrapped around hers and held on. It was likely he was so drunk that he was not feeling the full effect of his injury. “It was lovely. Please stay still, Eris.”

“Yes, angel,” Eris breathed.

Aya kept her eyes on her work and did not dare look at the glowering Lady or her giggling guardian. She knew it sounded like a pet name. But she didn’t think she minded much, not with how lovely it sounded falling from his lips.

Eris stayed quiet now, obedient to her every command. He watched her with such reverence in his eyes, as if still surprised she had appeared, worried she may go away again at any moment. If only he knew she was just another healer from the Dawn Court, no benevolent angel of mercy.

She wondered if he’d ever truly know her or if all of their meetings would be this way - inebriated or delusional from blood loss. And she hoped for both their sakes that the next time would be different. And maybe a part of her hoped to meet him in a state where she could really learn something about him. Something to compare to the rumors. All she knew at the moment was that he liked mythology. And that he fought like a hellcat when drunk.

“Beron would not approve of them fighting, would he?” She asked as she worked, her voice soft. Every movement tracked by those diligent amber eyes.

“Not in this manner, no,” Lady Edana answered, returning to Eris's bedside, “Not without his command, at least. He sees more honor in besting each other with strategy.”

Of course he would. Only Beron’s hand could inflict pain. That was how he stayed in control. Everyone else must impress him by playing his games perfectly. Aya had never expected to gain so much knowledge about the Autumn Court’s High Family and everything she learned made her more grateful for her own court and Thesan’s gentle rule. It also illuminated another aspect of Edana's secrecy.

This foolish behavior was a stark contrast to the tales and rumors of the Autumn sons, with their father’s brutality and their mother's brains. It certainly dimmed the intimidation to see that hulking brother passed out, mouth open and drooling on the velvet couch. Whatever Aya saw gave her power. And that golden ring took it away again. Edana did not yet know that she had picked someone with such an ambivalent heart. Capable of indifference and yet undecided.

When Aya finished dressing Eris’s wound and cleaning his filthy hands, she slipped a sleeping pill into his water and gave his shoulder a pat.

“Sleep well Eris,” She said, eager to get away from his relentless stare. Then she turned back and added sharply, “And listen to your mother.”

She shifted, about to make her way to the brother on the couch, but Eris’s voice stopped her.

“May I have a feather?” He asked, his voice remarkably soft compared to his terrible volume control from before.

“What?” Aya asked, hoping their audience did not notice the break in her voice. She knew the myth. That Clementia bestowed a feather upon her favored for luck.

“May I have a feather for luck?” He asked again, the gleam in his eye so hopeful it was almost painful.

For a moment, she considered it. It wouldn’t mean much, it would quiet him down and that would be that. But the weight of the Dawn Court customs would not release her. The tips of her ears grew hot, thinking of plucking a feather and handing it to him. Feathers were for honor, promises, and love. Even in the far friendlier, casual environment of her court, it wouldn't be seen as appropriate.

“You’re lucky enough just to be in her presence, you oaf,” Edana muttered, shaking Aya from her stupor. Eris frowned but he didn’t argue. He looked resigned, like he agreed with his mother's sentiment.

Aya silently thanked Edana and turned her attention toward the couch once more. The brother was not in terrible shape, with just a scattering of bruises and small cuts that would heal by morning. Luckily, he was far too drunk to remember anything by tomorrow. She hoped that Eris would not remember any of this either.

She had not failed to notice Eris’s split knuckles and she wondered what this brother had said to provoke him so. She might have asked, as they had humored all of her questions so far. But it seemed that neither Lady Edana nor her guards wanted to meet her eye as she inspected the younger Vanserra. As if there was something about this fight they were not saying. Or perhaps they were just embarrassed.

Aya told herself she did not care either way. She had decided, throughout the course of this visit, not to ask any more prying questions or sleuth or try to solve anything. She could not help her curiosity, but Thesan had ordered her not to meddle. And every answer to every question sat heavy like a stone in her heart. She did not want to carry all of that with her, anyways. So she finished patching up the anonymous brother, left a tonic one for the now-sleeping Eris, and returned to the comfort of the Dawn Court.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

The next morning, Eris’s shame pestered him as incessantly as his headache. Twice now, this poor healer had had to witness him in such a pathetic state. Gods knew what he had said last night. His mother wouldn’t tell him. She told him it was his punishment for being so foolish that he had to wonder what embarrassing things he may have said.

The only hint he got was in the note the healer had left him, beside a tin of fresh balm for his scars and a tonic for the hangover.

Drink lots of water, avoid stretching your wound. I look forward to your next prayer of thanks.

Your angel,

Aya

Eris blushed and cursed himself for it. He hadn’t known her name and had gotten into the habit of referring to her as Clementia in his mind. It must have slipped out.

He remembered little glimpses of what she looked like. Warm brown skin, eyes of lilac-grey, and small, capable hands. His fingers went to the wound in his side. Once again, he had been healed impeccably. This one had left a scar barely an inch long.

He had yet to thank her for all that she’d done and he wished that he could. But he did not know where to reach her or what a proper gift might look like.

Without him even realizing, without even having property met, she had begun to haunt his thoughts. Like a guardian angel, only a shadow of wings at the edge of his vision.

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loneliestluvr · 10 hours

Text

𝑻𝒐 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑰 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒐, 𝒊𝒊𝒊.

i. ii. iii.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron OC

Synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

Warnings: beron😒, abuse in general(like triggering af please be warned), me being a rhysand hater, brief suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 4.1k— this took me all day to write(from 7-9 am and then 3-now please be thankful😞🙏🏼)

taryn thinks: YES I DID CHANGE THE NAME. IT FITS BETTER. I HAD NO IDEA WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS WHEN I STARTED. HUSH. i would like to choose this very moment to tell you there will be a happy ending and to say they WILL end up with babies. still unsure how many parts this will be though 💃🏼 im just a gorl. @readychilledwine this is my payment for that tamlin baby and domestic fluff(smut if you’d like) bonus chapter for lost bonds 🤗

There was glass shattered on the floor by the windows.

Eris’s head was down as he stood before his father, pieces of deep auburn hair hanging by his eyes as he tried not to move and tried not to let any emotion pass over his face. Just as Beron expected when he took his lashings— whether that be from a whip, his tongue, or his powers.

However indignant, the fact his father had chosen his tongue today was a mercy.

“You are insignificant,” Beron seethed, spit spraying from his mouth as he yelled. The deep, cruel, voice booming off the walls of his fathers study. “—a bastard, truly. A bastard because you surely can not be this stupid and be born of me. A worthless excuse for a first son.”

Eris kept his stature wane, making himself small for his father despite the fact he was a few good inches taller than the male.

Sometimes, he thought the High Lord’s need to belittle and denigrate everyone around him, raise his voice and grow violent, was driven by some sort of lust. For power, respect, whatever it may be. Something he lacked.

That maybe the fact he put energy into minimizing his court, his family, his wife even, was because he didn’t even respect himself. That he needed to create room for his anger and hatred by pushing others down.

What had happened to him that made him so cruel? Is this how his father had been to him? Was this love to him?

“How is it that we’ve only just learned there’s a fourth sister, Eris? Tell me,” Beron’s voice grew lethally quiet as he spoke and Eris forced himself to breathe, bracing mentally. “—tell me so I know who better to put on the throne instead of your pathetic fucking excuse of life.”

His words grated against his ears, voice tight and angry and again growing louder as he spoke.

Another glass was thrown, and shattered. Hitting the wall so close to Eris’s head that a piece flew at him, slicing across his cheek lightly. He barely moved.

The crystal thin enough, knife-like enough, that he felt the warmth of his blood start to slowly seep from his skin.

Like moisture collecting on the petal of a white poppy in the early morning dew when he sat in the meadows by the Forest House, Saydee’s head in his lap as he talked to the earth. A small reprieve from the chaos of the palace.

Eris was there, in his mind.

Petting his hounds grey coat as he whispered, just as he always did when the sun came over the horizon and woke for the day. Like he had since he was just a faeling sitting in his mothers lap as she did the same.

His mother had explained it so gently one morning, sat in the grass, about when the sun comes over the skyline to say good morning. Not to speak too loudly or too brash so that he didn’t startle the earth, because she too deserved kindness. The Mother.

So almost everyday for as long as he could remember, he sat in that meadow, lazing in the tall grasses as those vibrant hues of blue and orange and pink and yellow streaked across the sky— and he whispered to Her.

About his hopes and dreams that would never be fulfilled or sought after, talked of the life he wished to have. That he wished his own mother had. Asked for her days to be gentler, kinder, prayed on every wild dandelion he found, for someone to share his days with, to talk to— however boring.

And he had. He had his dogs, and he had the fields surrounded with the creeks that ran through their property, and he had the sky.

He wished he was there most of the time. So he created a place in his head, to escape in moments like this.

Acres of meadows, full of flowers and taller grass than he could dream of. Up to his hips, his bloodhounds disappearing beneath the blades as he strolled leisurely. Hands wading through the soft thicket. Sometimes he dreamed of others with him, his mother, Lucien, someone else.

Locked away that piece of himself to disappear into whenever being in his body became too much.

It’s where he had spent nearly fifty torturous years Under the Mountain, spending every waking moment protecting the female who had raised him for his father didn’t care to. Spending fifty years away from those grasslands and that beautiful savoy grandeur. His meadows.

Throwing stick after stick out into those pastures as he walked further and further, his best girl running every time he threw— chasing bunnies and jumping into the streams. Getting lost in his mind. When he knew it was morning, which was so very rare down in that dark and decrepit nightmare, he prayed. He prayed for some divine force to step in, for Her to save him and his family. To be kinder. The first time he cried and spoke his despair aloud, Feyre Archeron had come three days later.

Eris was deep in fern grasses as the blood dripped down his face, but he still did not move.

He hadn’t even taken his coat and finery off from Hewn City yet, having told his father he was coming from the lookout on the northern border. He didn’t bring attention to it.

He heard his fathers deep breath and the creaking of the chair behind his desk as he sat, maybe seeing reason now that the heady scent of his sons blood filled his study.

“You will go to Rhysand as soon as possible,” Beron started, pinching the bridge of his nose. Eris still didn’t look up, just blinked at the floor. “—do what you must. Find a way in, figure out what else those wretched girls took from us. I do not care if you kill or maim or whatever else takes your interest these days.”

His voice trailed off as if remembering something significant and Eris heard the wood groan again and then footsteps, his heart remaining steady despite the screaming that filled his head. Then he saw the polished toes of Beron’s shoes.

“You always were the smartest of my sons. So much like me, so brutal.”

Male pride laced those words. Eris wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream, and he did want to kill. He wanted to kill the man before him, wanted to kill the ruination that circled this court. That ripped its beauty from her chest, chewed it up, and spat it out.

But he did not move.

A hand gripped his chin, turning his face to the side and up. Eris let his eyes flick to his fathers face and saw the warning there.

“Where did you get this.” It wasn’t a question, Eris knew.

“I was playing with Saydee and tripped too close to a jagged rock, it cut me. It didn’t hurt.”

Beron released his chin if only to land a sharp slap on his other cheek and then immediately grabbed his face again. His grip burned, like molten ire, making the flesh of his cheeks dig into his teeth.

“Where did you get it.”

“I was practicing my swordsmanship with Brenton and he sliced me with his rapier, it was an accident. He got the proper punishment for hurting me.”

Beron released his son’s face and stepped back.

“Get out, don’t let your mother see you.”

Doubtless that the reason he wanted him gone was because he didn’t want his sons blood to drip onto those precious carpets.

Eris didn’t need to be told twice, so he walked. As calmly as he could until he got to his rooms, making sure to take the long way around and avoid where his mother was no doubt waiting by her own door to hear Eris’s footsteps walk by.

To know he was safe, or to know what his father did. Either way, he didn’t want her to see him like this.

Closing the door behind him, he finally loosed a breath, opening his eyes as he shucked off his jacket and draped it over the chaise by the hearth. Walking to his tray of decanters, lightly touching the blood on his face with one hand as he picked a bottle up in the other.

His scarred fingers came back crimson.

A slow boiling rage, like simmering sugar, filled his body. His muscles, gritting his teeth silently. Grip growing tight as he looked at that blood.

And then that was all he saw as the glass bottle shattered into the brick fireplace, sending the flames roaring and him stumbling back a few steps into the post of his bed.

He hadn’t noticed it was lit, vision glazed over.

He was breathing heavily, eyes wide as he watched the flames fulminate, casting an orange glow on his room and his face. So bright and wild he felt the heat from feet away as he watched the fire roar and gutter back down.

Eris thought that maybe he really wasn’t any better than the man that sired him at all.

Spring in Velaris was beautiful.

The mid-day sun warmed the air around the River House, a gentle breeze kissing Blair’s skin and ruffling through her curled hair.

She’d let her little sister braid it back this morning, a thin coronet that made a beautiful pleated flower on the back of her head. Though her loose bangs tickled her eyes, Blair thought she had looked rather pretty.

She wasn’t so outside of her body when she sat in the open air. And she felt… alright.

Though she would have preferred a fir to scale, as they allowed for easier climbing, but the willow she had found herself in made for a good view of Elain working in Feyre’s garden.

It was a welcome change from her window. Like there was no need to run away and hide in the forests of her mind, digging her own hands into the soul of the earth just to make sure her mind didn’t numb away.

She was almost laying down against the bark, the large trunk and spindling branches wide enough two people could have sat up here side by side. As uncomfortable as it may have been, the rough corking crust digging into wherever it touched through her pale yellow gown, it felt like home.

It’d been a week since Starfall at the House of Wind, almost a month since that all too brief introduction she had made to the world in Hewn City on Winter Solstice. Of Prythian’s world, at least.

Blair hadn’t expected anything for it, she had been there for a short half hour and had been… occupied the whole time.

Sometimes her skin still burned when she was alone. In the bath, when she stirred honey into her tea, late at night in the too cool sheets of her bed.

She’d felt her own since Hewn City, able to think and manage conversations, elating to Feyre and Elain and she quite enjoyed conversing with her little sisters now. But she still laid by the fire, night after night just to feel that warmth fill her.

But after that, after the surplus of gifts from their small gathering that followed, presents hadn’t stopped when the Solstice holiday ended— but they weren’t coming from her family.

Baskets and boards and chests and boxes were sent to Rhysand’s palace and then were brought to the House. Welcoming’s and courtiers from every place in Prythian it seemed, branching out to welcome her.

Well wishes, mostly. Some off-notes and letters, claiming that Blair Archeron’s beauty could be used to fix the rifts in this continent and between courts. That had been the most absurd one, a letter for Rhysand asking for her hand in marriage. He laughed as he read it to her, sitting by the window— knees tucked into her chest.

It angered her more than anything. That she was already a prize to be had, or that it was Rhys they were asking.

Slowly, as days passed and she spent more time outside breathing clear air, the anger grew. The realizations came in waves, of things she had missed, times where she should have spoke up and didn’t.

Resentment, frustration, shame, guilt.

She didn’t let it show, bottling it up and shoving it down. Killing the urges inside her to scream at everyone, to bellow and seeth and grow violent. Something so awake in her, gnashing and bloody teethed. The need to give into that voice in her head that told her to let it go.

That she needed to in order to go on, in order to have a sense of normalcy. That exploding was the only was to settle her bones. She felt particularly nasty towards Rhysand.

The betterment he had to achieve and grovel over, should grovel over, was stacked against the High Lord.

The anger was what took her the most, forcing her fingers to loosen the grip she had on her fork at dinner nightly as she listened to him ramble and laugh. Watched Feyre go on like she would not die having his child, closer and closer to being due.

She wanted to watch him bleed as her sister was going to.

Wanted to scream for all he had made Nesta do.

The entitlement.

But Blair buried it.

So she would glare to herself when he wasn’t looking, lip pulled back slightly and passed off as a twitch, before she took in what was sent as an attempt to woo her.

Blair had thought they were for Feyre in all honesty, before Cassian explained that it was bad luck. A few days ago when he walked with her along the Sidra— Elain had dragged her out and in return she made the Illyrian come with her— he had said it was a grim omen and wish of terrible luck to send an expecting mother gifts for a babe that hadn’t yet been born. To the fae at least.

She listened mindlessly. Noting the scent of her older sister that came from him in waves. She needed to talk to Nesta, and soon. A conversation was owed on both ends.

The thin parchment of the book she was reading scraped against the soft pads of Blair’s fingers as she leaned back against the large trunk of the willow.

Vines of cream wisteria flowing in the soft wind that sent the caps of her bell sleeves fluttering, watching Elain out of the corner of her eye as she dug her bare hands into the soil. Choosing not to use the enchanted gloves Lucien had gifted to her as she tended to the flower beds at the back of the house.

Despite the cool air surrounding Blair from the river flowing a few paces away, a warmth bloomed past her skin, not from the sun, but from something else, and her chest melted or sparked or roared as she saw a flash of deep auburn hair— walking towards where she was in the tree.

The second oldest Archeron’s brow furrowed so slightly. That scent— that heated mahogany and citrus, burning embers, floated to her on a soft wind and brushed through her hair in a soothing caress.

Eris’s hand skimmed along the brush of a white rose hedge as he strolled, his gait loose but strong. Blair kept her focus on the pages she was reading, but a sudden pounding in her heart had her unable to focus on any of the words.

She heard him approach, feet light and careless, she wouldn’t have heard it if she were still human. But with her new ears, the new senses she was still getting used to, she could.

The feet stopped, just under her, and Blair flipped the page. The thin and gauzy skirt of her dress draped and hung down the branch she lounged on, leg crossed over the other.

Eris cleared his throat then, and Blair could see his tall stature blurred in the peripheral of her vision. Hands tucked appropriately behind his back.

“I’m shocked Rhys let you come here, especially with my baby sister in her condition.” Blair said without lifting her head to look at him. Eris hid his smile by lowering his head. “Or should I be worried you’ve come to steal Nesta away? She’s not here, by the way.”

The words poured out of her mouth so quickly that Elain lifted her head in wonder, the same furrow as her older sister’s she’d seen play out in her face so many times. Rhys was standing with his arms crossed on the stone walkway when Elain looked to the back doors. Not pleased, but something willing.

“Now, smart, beautiful thing.” He tsked his tongue, amusement lacing every word. “I wanted to see you, and I told you that Nesta was not what I wanted anymore.”

Blair lifted her head at that, looking down at his wretchedly beautiful face and he smiled that wicked smile at her that spoke of pure sin. The level of her belief was in her eyes.

Whatever he offered that was big enough for Rhys to allow him to come to Velaris, she didn’t believe it would be just for her. Eris had given something to gain something— that’s what they all said of him.

“I told him I’d spoil our fun and tell my father of our plans or he could let me see you and I’d send a legion tomorrow for him to direct.” Eris added, as if reading her mind or face or body. She forced herself to keep looking at him.

“I could have met with you somewhere else.”

“Would you have? Left this place?” A raise of his brows.

Blair didn’t know, she didn’t know why she said it. Why her tongue just moved before she could think with him. Her eyes said as much and then a sudden, unknown, panic filled her and the life guttered so quickly from her eyes.

“It is safer here anyway.” Eris said lightly a few seconds later, followed by a quiet sigh.

There was a thin white gash along his cheek, almost healed, but it wasn’t there the last time she’d seen him. Blair remembered every inch of his face whether she wanted to or not. A face that followed her.

“No gift to try and sweep me into a marriage with you?” She said as gently as she could, face a bit flat.

“I thought I gave you one.” Eris smiled and at Blair’s squinted eyes, he continued. She closed her book and tossed it to the ground, narrowly missing him as it thudded to the ground. “Our dances, I did give you three I believe. Is that not the correct number in the mortal realm when a male is courting a female?”

The female blinked down at him, pausing as she swung her legs over the side of the branch, face drawing ever tighter and then she couldn’t control it.

It was the wording that sent her laughing she supposed. The sound rich and full of life, not empty and deserted or even strained, a song that skittered over Eris’s skin. Soft and silky as a fawn’s coat, gentle and easy as a gliding dove.

“I suppose,” Blair started, grunting slightly as she slid on her stomach— using the little strength she had in her arms to hold tight to the trunk she was dangling from. “—if we were in the mortal realm.” Blair panted slightly and Eris’s mouth formed a tight line as he watched the female struggling to climb back to the ground.

Her palms quickly formed indents from the grooves and bumps and ridges she clung to, nails digging into the wood.

“But,” Slipping slowly, trying to find a place for her dangling bare feet to land or stick to so she didn’t drop seven or eight feet right to the grass. The thin sleeves of her dress catching and snagging on sharp ribs in the bark. “—I so graciously have the rest of my immortal life ahead of me,”

“Would you…” Eris’s hands trail off as he watched, hands behind his back and head tilted.

“I have choices, to make—” Blair interrupted, toes splaying as she reached and reached for the next thing down but there was just nothing. “So I think it fair I take,” She huffed, hands slipping and sweating as she tried to grapple. “My,”

Eris raised an amused brow to her backside, arms crossing over his chest as he just watched. Her full body dangling there and then Blair yelped, right hand slipping and then she was falling with a gasp.

Eris was there a second later, large hands firmly gripping her waist as her knees bent over something. Scratching up her hands as she went, skin ripping on the rough bark and she grappled for anything. Body twisting.

It was Eris who caught her, who she tangled herself onto so she wouldn’t slam against the ground. Panting, heart beating, arms around his neck before she looked at him.

Blue, rust-flecked eyes met amber ones.

“Time.” She whispered, staring at his face. He’d caught her. She couldn’t tell if it was her pulse she could feel inside her hand, or his, as it held to the junction between his neck and shoulder. His eyes flicked down.

“Yellow was a choice, my dear Blair.” She scrambled from his arms, dropping another foot before touching the ground as she stood on her own again.

“I like yellow.” She spoke quietly, brushing her hands along her dress and halting when it streaked the fabric with a dirty red. Looking up at him with a breath, she crossed her arms instead.

“Beautiful as a rare star, then.”

Blair rolled her eyes.

“What is it you want, Eris?”

The male nearly fell to his knees at the look in her eyes, the sound of his name on her tongue for the first time.

Out loud, that is. He’d rewatched her beautiful lips play with it in his head for the past month, over and over. Kept it for himself, for when he was alone or bored or…

Eris feigned a pout.

“No polite courtier? I just saved you, my fair damsel.” He said, face serious until he smiled again and Blair started walking back towards the house. Rhys mouth twisted into a satisfied smirk as he watched.

“I do not need saving, the worst that would have happened was a few scratches or a bruise. I would have lived.” Even if she didn’t particularly care to. She didn’t say that out loud, though. But the despair seeped into something, she didn’t care enough to stop and think about the feeling.

“Mm,” He hummed, following behind her. “I suppose so.” He wanted to grab her, to touch and feel her beneath the flesh of his hands just because. Something inside his chest dragging him along behind her, he was not himself.

Blair just kept walking, right up the stones and the marble stairs off the back of the house, feet padding to the doors. Eris stopped at the steps where Rhys made him halt.

“Don’t let them hold you.” Eris called and she looked over her shoulder just briefly before flinging the doors open and disappearing inside the house that was warded off. Eris couldn’t follow after her if he wanted to.

“You saw her. For whatever reason you needed, she clearly did not have an interest in the same.” Rhys sighed, stepping in front of Elain subconsciously as Eris stood there— still looking into the House. “Now leave my city before I kill you, you know not to speak of this place to anyone.”

Eris was still staring after her when he disappeared in a rush of wind and warm light.

Elain looked back at the tree where her sister and the male had come through moments ago, only to find a particular trail of higher grass where Blair had walked and suddenly grown dandelions were blooming.

From the slam of the back door seconds later and the vacant yard that Elain was now left alone in, nobody else had noticed.

🏷️: @prythianpages @readychilledwine @impossibelle @anuttellaa @aelincaddel @umgatochamadopercyval @mirandasidefics

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x oc #eris vandaddy #pro eris vanserra #blair archeron #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #rhysand #cassian #Azriel #azriel shadowsinger #lord of bloodshed #autumn court #night court #Prythian #a court of silver flames #acosf

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climbthemountain2020 · 2 days

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Flame of Autumn - Chapter 17

Part 18/26 | Ao3

[TW for graphic depictions of violence]

Tilly

The steady dripping was the first thing that Tilly focused on as her eyes cracked open in the dark.

Dark. It was so dark.

She blinked once, twice, and groaned at the pain in her head. She went to sit up, but she found she couldn’t, and the clanking of chains immediately alerted her as to why. It smelled like mildew and moss, something deep and earthen and cold and horrible.

The dungeons, then.

The panic flashed through her just as quickly as the resignation as she remembered what had happened. She’d been so, so stupid, but gods, she had only been able to process the need to help Alanna. She’d been so foolish to open the door with the dogs barking and snarling the way they were. The tears tracked hotly down her cheeks, and she gave herself a moment to cry. She went to tug the bond, but she knew before she did that nothing would be there.

The handkerchief had been covered in faebane, pressed tightly to her face so that she couldn’t fight back, couldn’t warn Eris away, which meant Beron likely knew everything.

She forced herself to take deep breaths–the panic wouldn’t help her here. She turned her head to the side and took in the surroundings, dark as they were. Down beyond the bars of her cage, there was a lone torch in what appeared to be a hallway. She could see the faintest outline in light of a door that appeared to be made of heavy iron. She was sure it was locked. She didn’t try calling out; she could tell in the low light that the other few cells filled with open chains and tables were empty. She allowed herself a sob, quiet in the air, as she tried to get her bearings.

It’s okay. You’re okay.

Eris had told her about the dungeons of Autumn–two levels, one high one for the basic prisoners to be held, questioned, and perhaps tolerated for a month or two. Then, there was the lower level that could only be accessed through that first one. It was reserved for one purpose only: torture. People didn’t leave that dungeon once they entered. From the fact that there was just the singular heavy door within sight, she gathered she’d been placed alone in that second level. She fought hard against the terror and hysteria clawing its ugly way up her throat at the thought. She was caught between hoping Eris would know something was wrong and come back to save her, and simultaneously hoping he’d stay far away from here. If she’d been found out, then so had he.

She jumped and the chains rattled around her wrists as the distant sound of male screams came through the heavy door. Her blood chilled, and she wondered if perhaps they had already caught Eris, too. The thought turned her stomach, and she strained to hear, but when the scream came again she could tell it wasn’t him. She was not one to rejoice at the pain of others, but she could have danced for joy at the fact that Eris might still have a chance. Plus, something told her that if they had caught Eris too, they’d make sure she knew.

She grasped that bit of hope and took deep, grounding breaths. She let her chest fill with the air, counted to seven, then released it slowly. She calmed herself enough to think rationally through it, shoving the hysteria and desperation down deep and locking it tightly away. There was no good outcome for her here. The brothers cared for her, but would they even notice her missing in time? She was sure Eris had told them that he’d instructed her to lie low while he was gone. Would it be too late? Alanna might notice, but what could she do? This brought up another point that was bothering her–had Aradnus remained behind with Beron gone? Was Aradnus on orders from Beron? Had it all just been a ploy to get Eris out of the Forest House?

She didn’t have to wonder long, and the terror grabbed her anew as the door groaned open and footsteps came towards her. She closed her eyes, evening her breathing, and hoping if they thought her asleep then they may leave again. It was another foolish idea, and she choked and gagged and sputtered as a bucket of cold water was thrown roughly over her face. As she blinked the water from her eyes, she was greeted by Aradnus and Beron.

So they’d been tricked.

The smile on Aradnus’ face told her all she needed to know about her chances here.

“Matilda, so good to see you.” Beron smiled at her like a predator surveying prey. She refused to speak, clamping her lips shut and not breaking eye contact with him. “That’s fine. You’ll be talking soon enough. You know, it’s so interesting what glamours can hide.” His smile had turned grotesque. “You’d never know who could be hiding a mating bond,” he leaned in close, “or a child.” Any remaining hope rushed out of her at the reminder.

He knew. He knew about both, and now he was going to use it to his advantage. She would die in this cellar, and so would their child.

“Did you know someone tried to hire a Night Court assassin to kill me? The lovely dryad dinner guest we had the other night–have you ever met a dryad before, Matilda?” The nausea churned within her. He did know; of course he knew. “Now, tell me, darling. What could a Night Court assassin possibly gain from killing me?” She refused to speak–wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her fear.

His eyes darkened, anger clouding them. “If you won’t talk willingly, my second has his ways.” She hated how she flinched as she heard Aradnus crack his knuckles. “You have one chance now, Matilda, to save yourself and my worthless son. Now tell me,” he put his hands on either side of her head, caging her in, “Have you and Eris been conspiring with the Night Court to kill me?” She schooled her expression to the most minute details, refusing to let a single thought slide through. She wouldn’t implicate Rhysand or his court or Eris in this, even if Beron was already certain.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, High Lord.” She spit out, venom coating each word. Let his anger rest on her, and perhaps Eris would be able to tell that something was wrong and have a chance to escape. The wrath in Beron’s eyes flared, and she felt sure he would hit her. He simply drew back.

“It’s a shame, Matilda. You could have saved everyone so much difficulty.”

She doubted it. Even if she’d spoken up, betrayed Eris and everyone else, she’d no doubt in her mind her fate was already sealed.

“I’m not going to tell you a thing.” This time, Beron’s smile was unlike the others–self satisfied, smug, even.

“Well, you’re right about that. I, tragically, must step away to attend to other things. Aradnus, however, has happily volunteered to watch over you for me. Isn’t that right?” She closed her eyes, understanding fully how this would end. She heard Beron begin walking back to the door. “It’s a shame, Matilda. I think I could have had great fun with you.” She gave him nothing but her silence, and he turned to Aradnus.

“The guards have the order to ambush and detain Eris as soon as he returns. They’ll bring him here. Get a confession from her by whatever means necessary, then make him watch her die.”

“With pleasure, my Lord.” She could hear the excitement in Aradnus as he spoke.

“Have a fantastic time, Matilda.” And the door slammed shut behind him. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on her breaths.

In, out, in, out, in–but she heard the clanking of metal on the table above her head and all thoughts went out of her mind. There was nothing but fear as Aradnus spoke next to her ear.

“Let’s begin.”

++++

The earth was swaying back and forth in front of her eyes.

No, she was swaying. Tilly came to, the pain in her shoulders so sharp it had started to border on numbness. She knew her shoulders had dislocated long ago–she couldn’t even remember how long she’d been hanging at this point.

Blessedly, she was alone. She had no idea how much time had passed since she’d been taken–there was no light this far below the earth, and the screams of her companions in suffering in the higher chamber happened too sporadically to glean any information on time passing.

Aradnus had twice forced food and water down her throat, trying to keep her alive for more torture. Part of her hoped it had been days. Eris was only supposed to be gone for two or three, so if it had been more than that, perhaps he knew and was staying away. She was sure if he’d returned that she would know by now–Aradnus would have paraded him in to watch her suffer.

She cleared her throat, trying to open her eyes to make sure she was, indeed, alone. Only one eye opened, the other still swollen entirely shut from the session they’d had earlier. Her jaw had been broken, too, but it seemed like she could move it enough that it had begun to heal. If she could just get the faebane out of her system, she could heal herself subtly and make this more bearable, but she was sure he’d been putting it in the water he forced down her throat.

She sighed, trying to squeeze her fingers to get some circulation back into them, but it was no use. She’d been hanging there long enough that all the blood was long gone and they were entirely sensationless–probably for the best, as she was certain she didn’t have a single fingernail left. Aradnus had taken his time with those, savoring the screams he pulled from her for each one.

She ran her tongue over her cracked lips, tasting blood. She could feel her consciousness slipping again–she could only stay awake for a few moments at a time before her body began to shut down.

Every so often, after it had been awhile since she’d ingested anything, she tried to feel desperately for the bond within her. She could feel it, see it, but it was as though it drifted off into nothing. She still took the time to try and push feelings and words and warnings down it, whether or not it had any impact.

She thought she’d cried all the tears she could, but she felt more start to slide down her face, cutting tracks through all the blood and grime. She sniffed, getting a noseful of copper and the musty, damp smell of the dungeon, but her heart shattered to still smell the faintest citrus scent of their baby, still bravely holding on.

I’m so, so sorry, little one. Your mother and father would have loved you so dearly.

She let her head hang in the dark as she swung around, feet barely scraping the floor as she moved. She choked out a final sob as she let the blessed darkness take her under once more.

++++

The water drowning her was becoming her typical wakeup call, but it was never any less terrible. At some point, he must have released her from the ceiling without her even waking, because she was strapped back into a chair, her shoulder screaming in pain. She hated the idea of his hands on her at all, but the thought of them on her while she was unconscious was an entirely different form of torture.

“Good morning, princess.” Aradnus sneered at her. His cruelty knew no bounds, and she’d learned over the past however long how much he truly enjoyed hurting others. He gleaned true joy from drawing blood, from hearing screams of anguish. More than once, she’d caught him palming himself through his pants and wished she hadn’t. Most of the time, she refused to speak at all other than the screams and shrieks of pain he drew out of her when she couldn’t stand it anymore. Deep in the throes of it, she reminded herself of what Eris had told her that day in the stream.

I just blocked it out. I found a place so deep inside me that nothing he did would ever reach it. I held that tiny little bit of myself close, and I told myself that enduring it would all be worth it someday, somehow.

And it would be. She would hold on, burrow deep down within herself, and she would not crumble. She would hold out as long as her body allowed; she would buy Eris time, the very last gift she could give him.

She’d refused to give up any additional information about Eris, or the Night Court, or herself, choosing to firmly answer with either silence or “I have no idea what you mean.” Even Aradnus, for all his joy in pain, was beginning to become agitated, and she could tell. She wondered if he’d be punished by Beron if he returned and Aradnus had nothing for him. In her half-lucid state, she grinned maniacally at the idea that he thought she’d be easy to break, and that now he was failing.

He hounded her repeatedly about the brothers, searching desperately for information. Tilly was surprised to find that they had a suspicion about Killian’s family, but she used that surprise to sell that she knew nothing about it, about any of them. He was relentless, asking again and again about everything, but she refused to break. She’d accepted she wouldn’t be leaving these dungeons–that she’d never see the sky or feel the sun on her skin or get lost in those bright amber eyes again–but she would not be taking anyone with her. Every session would reach a breaking point where she’d either pass out, or Aradnus would become so enraged that he’d lose control and push too far, leaving her useless anyway.

Presently, Aradnus was turned to the table, but she could see him rifling through long, slim knives. She clenched her eyes shut again, but found she was beginning to lose the ability to feel terror, pain, much of anything. She wouldn’t last long this time; they’d be done soon.

All this past year in Autumn, and this was where it would end.

She tried to focus her thoughts back to the very beginning, sitting in that room before she’d even seen Eris. She’d been so resigned, so nervous, so unsure, and then she’d been gifted the most precious love of her life. She knew with certainty, even if it ended here, that she’d do it all again to have that time with him. She hoped he would be okay, regardless of what happened to her. She would die here in this dungeon, but if he managed to stay away, he could still live centuries more.

She thought of his eyes, so curious and filled with joy when he beheld her, or the way they took in all of her as they touched. She thought of his scarlet curls, falling over his forehead as he focused on his book, or while they kissed. She thought of how she liked to tuck them back behind his arched ears, earning that stunning smile of his while they laughed about something. Eris would be okay, as long as he never returned here. He would never be the same, but he would be okay.

Aradnus had been given strict orders to wait for Eris to return, but he couldn’t put it off forever, and mistakes happened. Perhaps Eris would feel the bond break when she died and know for certain to stay away, or perhaps seek asylum within Night as they’d planned to do with her. At this point, there was no chance he didn’t at least suspect something had happened. That final severing of the bond might be the push he needed to run and not return. She hoped beyond reason that when he’d felt the bond go dark, he’d known something was wrong and gone far away already.

Aradnus turned to face her with a paring knife, a smile already plastered on his horrible face. Tilly tried her hardest to force the words down the bond.

Don’t come back, don't come back, I love you, don't come back.

++++

Aradnus was back again, and Tilly had nothing left to hang on to. Her eyes would hardly open at all; she couldn’t lift her head. She was certain one of her legs was broken, if not both. He ran a finger up her arm, but she didn’t even have the energy to shudder at the touch anymore. Half the time, she was no one at all, floating in a timeless, spaceless chasm of nothing where she was blissfully ignorant of everything. When she was lucid, it was barely so–holding on just long enough to feel short blasts of pain and groaning before she’d be swept back into oblivion.

“It seems we may be on our last day, sweet one. I don’t think there’s much fight left in you, and your mate is running behind.” She groaned, but it felt far away. Everything felt far away. “I must admit, you’ve held out far longer than anyone imagined you would. I’d thought you might have given up outright, but you fooled us all.”

She couldn’t even wet her lips to respond, the darkness already drawing her back under. Eris was late–Aradnus had betrayed that fact with his words, and the information clanged through her fog with great clarity. It had been long enough, and that meant he knew to stay away. He’d been smart, and though she was sure it had killed him, he had stayed away.

“I think we’ll play with some fire today, what do you think? One big finale, hmm?” She could feel him snapping the fitted braziers on her hands and forearms, could vaguely feel them warming. She didn’t care–it didn’t matter.

Eris was safe.

There was nothing left for her to do, and she was ready to let go. She wondered if, on the other side, her mother and father and child might be there waiting for her arrival. She wished to see the sky and sun and clouds again, even if it was in death. Longed to hear her mother’s voice, feel her father’s embrace, run her fingers through the bright red curls of the child she’d never even had the chance to meet.

She could feel the skin blistering as the darkness crept in. With a final sigh, she could already feel her heart slowing.

Then the iron door blasted entirely off its hinges and into the bars of the adjoining cell. She let her head fall to the side so she could take in the figure wreathed in flames standing in the doorway.

Beron must have come back to finish the job.

She laughed, a hysterical thing, tasting blood between her teeth. She wished she could tell Aradnus that he was going to get in trouble for taking so long and still getting nothing from her, but she couldn’t form a sentence. She could only laugh, the unhinged sound cracking out of her, hoarse and horrible.

The figure stalked forward, and Aradnus backed up. She hoped Beron killed him, too. But then her eyes focused, and Aradnus’ fear made sense. It wasn’t Beron at the doors; it was Eris. Eris, absolutely consumed with flame and furious as he walked forward to a stumbling Aradnus.

“Eris, I–” It was all he got out before Eris reached him, grabbed his throat in a single flaming hand, and ripped it from his body. Tilly thought she might still be laughing, but it turned to a hollow cough immediately, rattling through her lungs and causing the blood to surge in her mouth and out from the corner. She began to drift again, trying to hang on to consciousness but reaching out to grasp nothing each time.

“Tilly.” His voice swam in and out of her mind. She tried to say his name, but maybe it was only in her mind. He was moving her body, shuffling her around. She could hear the massive chains clanking, and she sighed as she heard a key locking into them. “Tilly, fuck. Gods, hold on. Hold on.” She felt the locks clicking, and the shackles falling off her wrists, then her ankles after. She lurched upwards, back arching, as the magic rushed through her.

Faebane shackles.

How had she missed that? She’d assumed it had been in her water.

The familiar magic thrummed in her veins from head to toe, rushing to heal what was broken, but as it worked she could feel everything. She screamed as her bones knit themselves back together, her body thrashing and bucking despite Eris’ gentle hands around her.

“Tilly, I am so sorry.” She could tell he was crying, his voice hoarse and cracking as he held her to his chest, the agony finally calming enough for her to take a gasping breath. She looked up to him, still covered in flames, and her heart nearly broke at the sight of him, so disheveled and worried and relieved. She could feel the bond again, and that alone made her want to dissolve into great heaving sobs. She’d never realized how integral to her it had been until she hadn’t been able to feel it, to feel him.

Without warning, he winnowed them straight from the dungeons to their rooms, her shock evident on her face.

“How did you do that?”

“I broke the wards. All of them.” He was pressing frantic kisses to her face and lips, holding her as though she might still slip away into the ether if he slackened his hold at all. The grief from his side of the bond was overwhelming, and Tilly was so exhausted all she could do was lean her head onto him and try to send waves of love and joy back.

He carried her to the bathroom, setting her gently on the sink and pulling his hands back hesitantly to run the water. While it filled, he came right back, holding her close to him while he stripped off the tattered remnants of her nightgown, dirty and covered in blood and barely held together.

“I thought I lost you, Matilda. I thought you died. I haven’t felt the bond in days. It’s been days…” His voice was barely above a croaking whisper. She had no energy to respond, but she wrapped her arms around him and clasped her fingers so they would stay around him. “I’d finished at Dawn and gone to Day to discuss everything with Helion and the bond went silent. He begged me to stay, in case it meant Autumn was under siege, or that you might be trying to protect me. He all but locked me in the palace.”

Tilly could feel the guilt pouring from Eris’ side of the bond, his shame for not coming sooner. “He was right, Eris.” She spoke, barely audible. She’d hardly used her voice for anything but screaming these past few days. “I was trying to reach the bond, trying so hard to tell you not to come back. He was going to kill you. Make you watch me die then kill you too. He knew we were working with Night. They tried to get me to admit it for days. I swear I didn’t talk. I didn’t tell them anything.” She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. She sighed. “You’re really here.”

Eris was crying, pressing her against him with such force it took the breath from her. “I am so sorry I left, Tilly. I am so sorry I left you with them. I’m so sorry I didn’t come right back. How will you ever forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive, Eris. You’re here. We’re here.” She paused, her hands pushing back frantically. “The baby. Is the baby–” His hands were on her in a heartbeat.

“The baby is fine. I can smell them–I can feel their magic. We’ll bring the healers up after we take a bath for peace of mind.” She nodded, the relief buoying her, and Eris picked her up and brought her to the warm tub, slipping in behind her fully clothed. He let her rest on his chest while he washed her body gently with a cloth and she faded in and out of sleep, let the water drain, then fill again. He washed her hair out, running his fingers through it slowly while her steady breath puffed against him. When he had cleaned every last mark from her skin, he just held her, let her float in the water against him, reassured them both that they were here and safe, and Beron was–

“What happened to Beron?” She murmured against his chest.

“When I was in Day, we received an emergent missive from Night that Spring was under attack. Beron was stupid enough to take a portion of Autumn’s army and attack, and he was killed.” She summoned all of her strength to push up onto him.

“He’s dead?”

“He’s dead. The magic hit me in the woods when I winnowed back here.” Her face crumpled and the relief hit him so strongly in the chest he lost his breath. Her chest heaved against his with full-body sobs wracking her and he brushed her hair back. “He can never hurt us again, Til. He’s never coming back.”

“Is your mother okay?”

“Yes, she’s in Day with Helion.” She sighed in relief against him.

“That’s how they got me, you know. Aradnus used a magic trick. He had her voice somehow begging for help, so I opened the doors. So incredibly foolish.” She felt the rage roar down the bond, twined in with his affection for her.

“Aradnus will never do anything to anyone ever again.”

“My hero.” She sighed against him, and he laughed mirthlessly. “So, does that mean you’re High Lord now?”

“Yes. And you’re High Lady.”

“Oh, no. Not yet.” Eris pulled back to look down at her, and she lifted her eyes to his. “What?”

“Do you not…you don’t–” She lowered her head, pressing another kiss to his collarbone.

“Autumn won’t accept a High Lady yet. There will be people who want things to remain how Beron kept them, especially amongst the nobles. You forget that’s where I spent most of my life. I need to earn it first, and you need to weed out the dissenters in the meantime.” She closed her eyes, nuzzling closer to him. “You’ll do the right things, make the right changes. They’ll accept me when I’ve earned it. I’m in no hurry.”

She yawned, the last of her energy entirely gone now that she had made sure everyone was okay. So she let herself drift, both on her mate in the warm tub and out of consciousness.

Eris

Tilly was fast asleep and surrounded by dogs and pillows, her face a road map of dark bruises that hadn’t healed. Eris clenched his fist, the flames shooting out from him despite the control he was trying to wield over them and this new power. Willa, the head healer, had come by and checked to make sure Tilly was healing okay. The bones in her legs, ribs, and shoulders had mended, as well as the burns on her hands and arms. She’d administered a heavy sleep tonic before leaving, ensuring that Tilly would be able to rest through the recovery. She checked, then double and triple checked that the baby was okay, while Eris hovered and paced nervously like a frantic mother hen. Once Willa had assured them that everything was more than fine, on track, and healing normally, Eris finally allowed her to leave.

But now, watching from a chair beside the bed as his mate slept, those horrid bruises discoloring her perfect face, the cuts marring her lips and eyebrows and arched ears, the rage boiled his blood. How hard Aradnus must have hit her, repeatedly, to have those bruises still be so deeply purple. The flames crawled up his arms again and he had to physically shake them off. He should really sleep–it had been literal days since he had–but he couldn’t calm down, couldn’t slow his racing heart at the thought of leaving her unprotected again for even a moment.

When he’d been leaving Dawn, the bond had gone quiet as he’d winnowed away to Day. He thought, at first, it might be the distance making it fade. But within a few hours, something began to feel well and truly wrong. He would catch the smallest flutters of fear and panic that he knew were not his own, and by the time he was in to meet with Helion, he was in a full-blown hysteria.

Helion had implored him to stay, to be calm. There were many different reasons that the bond might be muted, especially since it wasn’t severed. Helion had said Eris would know if Tilly had died, but it didn’t make the not knowing any more bearable.

Helion had contacted Rhysand, as well as sending spies deep into Autumn to find word of any disturbances in the normal routine of the Forest House. He’d all but locked Eris into the palace, trying to calm him and keep him from committing war crimes or getting himself killed by rushing back home. He’d felt like a rabid animal in a cage, pacing constantly, refusing to eat or sleep. Even Helion, who notoriously tolerated Eris at best, seemed worried for his health.

“Eris, you must calm down. You’re running holes into the ground.”

“How can you bear this, Helion? Aren’t you absolutely out of your mind for my mother’s safety? He might have killed her, too. You know that, right?”

“He hasn’t killed your mother, Eris. She’s okay.”

Eris exploded. “How could you possibly know that?” But Helion’s eyes had flashed dangerously.

“Because she is my mate, Eris. I have been living with this pain for centuries, but it’s how I also know she is still alive. Scared, but alive.” Eris felt as though he’d been slapped. He’d suspected–for years he’d suspected–but hearing that Helion knew and had still chosen to stay away jarred him. He had chosen to let his mother suffer under Beron’s thumb. It was the breaking point for him, and he swung out at Helion.

“How dare you?? You knew she was your mate and you let her ROT there?” His fists hit against Helion, and it took him a full minute to realize Helion had let him. He wasn’t even trying to fight him. “Fight me, you bastard. You left her!” But he wouldn’t, and Eris’ screaming turns to sobs, the horror over everything becoming too much.

“Eris…I love Alanna. More than anything in the universe. I always have, I always will. But she demanded I stay away. She wouldn’t risk her children’s safety. She made the choice. Wouldn’t you respect the choices that Matilda made, even if they ruined your own life?” The breath whooshed out of Eris with the last of his anger, and now all that was left was fear and exhaustion.

Did Helion know? Did he know one of those sons she wouldn’t risk was his? He deserved to know.

Eris hated that he had to find out this way.

“Helion. Did you ever wonder why she stopped allowing you to see her after the last of my brothers was born? Ever wonder why you never saw her alone again?”

“She worried about your safety, her safety. I wasn’t yet a High Lord, and she worried he would start a full scale war for the slight. Or otherwise kill us all.”

“Have you ever met Lucien?” Helion’s eyes shot to his, brows furrowed.

“Alanna’s youngest son, former emissary to Spring. I saw him get his eye carved out Under the Mountain when he stood up to that bitch.” He huffed in amusement. “It seems he got Alanna’s heart and not your father’s.” Eris could have rolled his eyes.

“Yes, he got much of my mother. And his father. Nothing of Beron.” Eris implored Helion with his eyes, begging him to understand. It only took a moment, and the way Helion’s face crumpled, the misery was so deep that it threatened to take Eris’ own heart from his chest. When Helion spoke, it was barely a whisper.

“No.”

“Yes. I helped her hide it, per her request, for centuries.” Helion was crying outright now, big heaving sobs from the hulking, unshakable man. It seemed Eris was not the only one who wore a mask, and he could, for just a moment, see the male who his mother loved so fiercely. Could see her match here in this gentle giant who so clearly loved her, who would rather suffer for eternity than go against her wishes. He could see so much of Lucien in him.

“He is so good, Helion. Lucien is. He’s so thoroughly kind, and funny, and he has a good heart. He is someone you would want to know, someone anyone would be lucky to know. I have always been proud to be his brother, and I have never once deserved it.”

“She kept him from me–”

“For everyone’s safety. Everyone’s.”

“Does Lucien know?”

“I have no idea, though I imagine he has his suspicions that Beron is not his father. To ask it aloud would be a death sentence for our mother.” Helion nodded, but his eyes grew hard.

“Come, we’re going.” Eris was momentarily shocked, stumbling up to standing.

“What? To Autumn?” Helion was already making for the doors.

“Yes. I’m getting her out of there, her requests and the consequences be damned. I’ll not let her suffer another moment under that tyrant. She can hate me the rest of our lives, but she’ll do it from somewhere safe.”

“What if he’s there?” Eris could barely get the words out as he got his bearings, tearing down the hall next to Helion, who was walking with impressive strides now.

“Then I will kill him. I may not have been able to do anything then, but I am a High Lord now. I can invoke the Blood Duel, and I will kill him.”

“If you fail, Helion, she’ll die. He won’t let her live over an embarrassment like this.” He stopped so short Eris almost slammed into him and Helion whirled around on him.

“Then you swear to me, Eris. Swear you’ll get her out.” Eris nodded.

“We’ll get them both out.” And understanding settled between them as they made their way to the armory, their minds made up.

Then the missive had arrived.

All at once, everything flew into motion. Eris and Helion only had the time to organize and immediately send any of his fighters who could winnow to Spring, and then to decide that Helion and Eris would still go to the Forest House together. Eris would be there to find Tilly and get her to safety. Helion would immediately go to Alanna, bringing her back to the safety of Day. Eris had told Helion where he could find Alanna–all the places she might be starting with her rooms and the garden, and made sure Helion knew he’d be on his own once they arrived.

But all their plans had changed again when, as soon as they touched ground at the Forest House, Eris had immediately been engulfed with flames so hot they burned blue. He fell to his knees as the power overcame him. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt, and by the time it abated, he knew Beron had died. He didn’t miss a beat as he shattered the wards on the Forest House on instinct, sprinting into their rooms, finding them long-empty, her smell almost non-existent.

He ran madly through the abandoned halls, hoping to at least find his mother or a brother or Cormac to tell him what had happened, but no one was there. He tried reaching desperately for the bond, but it lay so limp, worse than it had been at any time in the last few days, despite his proximity. Wherever Tilly was, she was running out of time. He knew it deep within himself, and the terror shot up like nausea into his throat. He knew he needed to check the dungeons, though he hated the thought more than anything else. It seemed the guards had mostly abandoned their posts; the news must have traveled already. As he reached the doors to the unmanned dungeons, he burst through them and was shocked to find, again, no guards, and all his brothers and Cormac in the cells.

“What the fuck happened?” Eris demanded, as he ripped the keys from the hooks and unlocked the doors.

“Ambush. You’re on fire.” Cormac wheezed. They looked horrible, all beaten to a pulp, the faebane shackles keeping them from healing. Killian appeared to have taken it the worst, but was the first to stand, to get to the walls and lean heavily against them.

“Eris, they have Tilly.” He barely croaked the words out. “We could hear her screaming.”

Was he…he was crying?

And then, the worst possible truth dawned on Eris, and he put together the only option in which they might have heard her screaming. “He’s in there with her now.”

The horror overtook him, and so did the flames, and all the brothers jerked back as he lit up and sprinted to the heavy door to the lower dungeons, nearly ripping it off the hinges as he stormed in.

Eris could barely remember the horrors that he felt as he slung the door open. Seeing Aradnus crouching over her broken body, the fire consuming her skin and her not even fighting back anymore. He’d been absolutely consumed with rage, not even feeling himself anymore as he’d ripped out a male's throat with his bare hand without another thought.

The memory nearly suffocated him now, sitting beside her, safe, breathing, alive. He prodded the dogs to the bottom of the bed gently, climbing in behind her, needing her close. He folded himself against her, curving along every inch of her body, holding her close like he may never get to again. He’d need to go to Spring to deal with the Autumn troops there in two days' time, but he’d need to winnow briefly tomorrow morning to touch base with Tamlin and Rhysand. He didn’t want to leave her again–not now, not ever.

He tucked his hand around Tilly’s stomach while she slept. Willa had estimated her to be about three months along, so she wasn’t showing yet, but he could feel the little magic within her, and could differentiate it from the feel of hers. Their baby, already a survivor in their own right. Willa had spoken to him privately after she’d given Tilly the tonic; it was a miracle in itself that the baby had survived. Tilly had suffered massive and repeated internal damage, and the fact that the baby had made it implied a strong magical presence. Eris had never been so thankful for Autumn’s stupid emphasis on breeding strong bloodlines. It had given him Tilly, given him their child, and allowed him to keep both.

She’d been ready to die for him–the thought made him burn with panic, even feeling her here in his arms, her heartbeat strong and steady against him. She’d been ready to sacrifice herself to make sure that he lived. He had never had that sort of love or devotion from anyone in his life, and he didn’t know what to do with all of it–all that it made him feel. He wasn’t entirely sure he was worth it.

He hated to leave her even for an hour tomorrow, but knew she’d be well protected. He’d spent time this evening reconstructing all the wards he’d so violently broken when he’d arrived looking for her. He’d meticulously respun them, and would ask Helion to come follow up on them when he checked in on his mother. He hoped that long-overdue conversation had gone well. His brothers would keep an eye on Tilly for him in the meantime. The second they’d been healed, they were out of their minds with worry, swarming the hallway in front of Tilly and Eris’ room like a gaggle of gossiping females. Eris was thrilled that they cared, that they wanted to protect her, but he was himself feeling a bit territorial in the wake of things.

The brothers had immediately sworn fealty, none of them caring at all about the crown and simply relieved to be alive and rid of Beron. They’d told him, sorrow in their eyes, how they’d heard Tilly being tortured for days. How they tried to taunt Aradnus so he’d direct his rage and sadism at them instead. How she’d held on longer than any of them had imagined she could. How she’d never once told them a thing, and how Aradnus left every day angrier and more agitated as he stalked through the upper levels. Killian, of all of them, began to cry.

The brothers had heard everything in the cell, but Eris hadn’t.

“He kept asking her about my family. My mate, and my daughter.” Eris couldn’t keep the sharp exhale from passing his lips. He felt like he’d been punched in the chest.

Killian had a family, a mate. And Tilly had known the whole time. She’d protected his family’s secrets at the cost of her safety.

“She could have sold me out–she could have gotten a reprieve, but she said nothing. I will never be able to repay her, Eris. Not in a million lifetimes.” He put his hand on Eris’ arm.

Eris was so proud and so filled with anger that he couldn’t even articulate his thoughts, he’d just begun sobbing, big ugly gasps for air that burst from him as his face crumpled. He lifted his arm to cover it, not used to allowing any real emotion to show out openly. In perhaps their first ever public display of affection, the brothers all came in to embrace Eris.

He hoped, going forward, this might be the norm for them. He didn’t want the tension that they’d lived under for their entire lives to have any influence on their future. But, right now, if they came to his door one more time to check on her before morning, he might set one of them on fire. They were watching over the court currently, preventing anyone from getting ideas about an early coup, and he hoped he might be able to take in a few more hours of silence.

He blew out the candle by the bed, pulling himself close to Tilly once more. He pressed a single kiss to the back of her neck, breathing her in, and reassured himself again and again that she was safe.

Taglist (lomls): @cauldronblssd @queercontrarian @byyalady @thelovelymadone @clockwork-ashes @lovingkelj @lilah-asteria

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris x oc #eris vanserra #eris acotar #vanserra brothers #flame of autumn #arranged marriage #allies to lovers #eris vanserra x oc #acotar smut #Eris smut

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mischiefmanagers · 2 months

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Eris Vanserra Fic Rec Library 🍁❤️‍🔥

these fics are a mix of Eris x reader, Eris x OC, and a few general Eris fics with no pairing. if you've never read an Eris fic before, I highly recommend starting with the first rec below (gust & flame) because that fic made me fall in love with him. enjoy ✨

🌼 personal favorite 🥀 angst 💞 fluff 🔥 smut

by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

gust & flame (series) 🥀💞🌼

by @theostrophywife

here in your arms. 💞

like you wanna be loved 💞

by @acourtofmenandthirst

The Fox & The Hound 💞

by @leafsandstarlight

Destiny's Battleground (series) 🥀💞🔥

In Spite of Our Differences (series) 🥀💞🔥🌼

Great Rite 🔥

The Prince of Blood

by @profound-imagination

Finding Home 💞

Rose Gardens

by @munsons-hellfire

Happiness in the Heart 🥀💞

by @sweetcarolina-24

Scorched Shadows

by @azrielbrainrot

Fire on Fire

Mind Over Matter 🥀

by @danikamariewrites

Rescue 💞🥀

Fake Sleeper 💞

Peace 💞

Seekers 💞🌼

Did You Just Say No?

Song of Death

Starfall Revelations 🥀💞

Guilt 🥀💞

Kisses 💞

by @redbleedingrose

Till the End of Time 💞🥀

Pretty? 🥀💞

by @b0xerdancer-writes

It Wasn't Supposed to Happen Like This 🥀💞

by @thisblogisaboutabook

Bad Idea, Right? 🥀🔥

by @azsazz

Cherries, Juniper, and Orange Slices 💞

Fire & Water 🥀🔥

by @honeybeefae

Cauldron Fated 💞🥀🔥🌼

Forgotten Ties 🥀

Valentine's Mini Fic 💞

A Court of Wings & Fire (series) 🥀

Past and Present 🥀💞

Coronation Day 💞

Potions 🔥🌼

by @we-were-beautiful

The Fox and the Hounds 💞

by @bubbles-for-all-of-us

My little flame 💞

Her 🌼

My tears ricochet 🥀

by @2thestars-andbeyond

The Fire That Burns Within (series) 💞🥀🔥

by @simkaswriting

What if…Eris had danced with y/n instead?

by @jeannineee

Daylight 🥀💞

Breeding 🔥

by @jdeclerc

a brother's intervention 🥀

by @azrielsdove

Playing With Fire 🥀🔥Azriel x Reader x Eris

by @cassiefromhell

Unexpected 💞🥀🔥Azriel x Reader x Eris

by @fieldofdaisiies

Late Again 🥀

Brother 🥀💞 no pairing

Falling 💞🌼

by @azrielsoulmate

Covered in you 💞

by @cupidojenphrodite

Morning After 🔥

by @acourtofwhatthefuck

Loose Lips 🥀🔥

by @thelov3lybookworm

Remember me? (series) 💞🥀 from Rhysand x Reader to Eris x Reader

Bloodshed 🥀💞

Not what I expected 🥀💞🌼

by @fineghkst

How Eris acts around his mate 💞

by @ladyescapism

fractured bonds 🥀

by @clairebear08

Woven 🥀

Use Me 🔥

by @historiaxvanserra

If I Can't Have Love, I Want Power 🥀🌼

I Am Not a Martyr, I'm a Problem

by @shadowdaddies

Autumn's Eden 💞

Bramble 💞

by @azrielslightintheshadows

Fake love. 🥀

by @crypticandmachiavellianaugustine

Sweet Nothings 💞🌼

by @readychilledwine

Death of Peace of Mind 🥀🔥🌼

Safe Haven 💞

Relief

Unconditional 💞

Leap 💞🌼

Kissed By Fire

Lapcat 🔥

Pack Mentality 💞

Tainted Love 🥀

by @throneofsmut

Bound In Flames (series) 🥀💞🔥

by @parkerslatte

Overlooked 🥀🌼

Warm Me Up 💞🔥

by @prythianpages

Like An Angel 💞

Cruel, Wicked Thing

by @saphirered

Frozen lake 🔥💞

by @thehighladywrites

Professor Eris 🥀💞🔥

by @thevanserrras

Breaking Point 🥀

Den of Foxes 🥀💞

Happy Equinox at Last 💞

Wake Up 🥀💞 Azriel x Reader x Eris

Petty 🥀💞

by @secret-third-thing

Never An Honest Word 🥀 no pairing

by @nocasdatsgay

From the Ashes, the Wildflowers Grow (series) 🥀💞🔥🌼

by @lucienforhighking

Hounds of Love 💞

Dancing 💞🔥

by @callmeblaire

when fire and ice dance

by @moonlightazriel

Symphonies 💞

When no one hears your calls 🥀💞

by @sellyoursoulforagoodfic

Monstrous Secrets 🥀💞

by @florencemtrash

Flame, Shadow, Beast 🥀💞 Azriel x Reader x Eris

by @serpentandlily

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny (series) 🌼

Last Solstice 🥀💞🌼

by @fever-fluff

Unconditional

by @yearning-for-autumn

Would That I

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readychilledwine · 5 months

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Kissed by Fire pt 1

Summary - Amelia Archeron, the oldest of the made sisters, sacrificed more than her sisters would ever understand, and more than she would ever allow them to know. Now, they want her to sacrifice her one chance at happiness, too.

Warnings - rhysand is kind of a dick, signs of depression and PTSD, trauma, implied EDs, kind of poisoning

An - and we begin 💜

Part 2

Rhysand tapped his fingers on the desk next to Amelia, his eyes narrowed as the oldest sister stared out the window.

She had been the last to wake up. She was withdrawn from them, constantly sat in the cushioned window ledge and wiping tears from her face.

He had expected more from Amelia. She was supposed to be a rock, a strong influence, yet here she was, mind lost in her grief, in her confusion, her longing for their father. “You need to get up,” he commanded. “You need to stand on your feet and be strong for your sisters. They need you.”

Amelia sighed deeply, that familiar weight of being the oldest pressing down on her shoulders once again.

It felt like carrying the weight of the world. It felt like being forced to sacrifice her own health and happiness for her sisters again.

It reminded her of nights spent in a brothel laid beneath some man she had no interest in for a small amount of coin. It reminded her of hiding the coins with Feyre's earnings so no one would ask questions or ask if she was okay.

“If my adult sisters are making the choice to hide in a room and refuse to eat, how exactly would me going and demanding that of them make a difference?”

Rhysand rolled his eyes, scoffing at the question. “You never cared for them while you all were starving in that cabin,” Amelia flinched at the accusation. “The least you could do is pretend to care now.” She looked away from him as the first night spent in the whorehouse, handing her virginity away to a complete stranger twice her age came forward.

She didn't see Rhysand's face fall, his eyes becoming sympathy as you stood. “Right. I forgot about Feyre's pretty story of how she kept our family afloat.” The true sentence should have been, “I forgot she didn't know,” yet Amelia stuck to her self defense. “I will try. Do not expect me to join you, though.”

Nesta, Elain, and Amelia ate in silence in Amelia's room. If you could call what the three of them did eating.

Nesta pushed the food around. Elain stared out the window. Amelia sat there, shivering despite being the closest to the fire and in heavy wool socks and a sweater provided by the House.

She could feel a chill deep inside of her. Like the Cauldron had left a reminder deep inside of her of what happened. “Have you two been cold since-” she couldnt even finish the sentence, but she didn't need to.

Elain shook her head softly. “No, just. Lost.”

Nesta also shook her head before smiling sadly. “Have you tried to bathe yet?” Amelia paled at the idea. She had several times. Hoping the hot water would melt the ice settling in her veins and bones. “I had the same reaction,” Nesta sad softly.

Elain also nodded, tears streaming down her face, “It's like bathing takes me right back there. I cam feel it burning my skin all over again from how cold it was, I feel myself struggling to breathe, i-” Amelia silenced her younger sister with a hand on hers.

“Don't, little tulip. Don't talk about it unless you're ready to.” Elain leaned into her, closing her eyes as Amelia ran her fingers through her soft hair. “I'm sorry I can't fix this.”

Nesta smiled for the first time in a week. “You aren't a miracle worker, Lia. We don't expect you to fix it.”

Amelia's dreams that night had her transporting to a cabin. It was warm with a soft fire crackling in the background as she looked around. She could hear the voices of two males in another room. One was deep and smooth, although somewhat sarcastic as he spoke to a deep familiar voice. Shadows trailed through Amelia's fingers and the voices stopped. A door opening and footsteps coming towards her.

Amelia shot awake, her eyes adjusting to the darkness to a figure sitting on her bed. Rhysand had his hands holding his nose, his eyes glazed over slightly. “Do you know where you just were?” She shook her head, take a few deep breaths and then the tea he offered her. “I need you to drink that. You followed Azriel on a mission. In your sleep.”

He looked up sighing heavily. “You didn't fully transport your body there. Just your soul and mind. I need you to drink that so you don't do it again.”

Amelia sniffed it, eyes watering at how bitter it smelled. “What is it?”

Rhys looked at her, eyes cold as he distanced himself from what he was asking her to do. “It's faebane. It'll put whatever the fuck the Cauldron did to you to sleep.”

Rhys laid Amelia down, having watched her finish the cup and fall into a drug induced sleep. He sensed Azriel landing at the house and waited.

The Spymaster pushed Amelia's balcony doors open, looking between her and Rhysand. “How? That cabin is heavily warded to protect-”

Rhys held a hand up. “Amren is looking into it. Until we have an answer, we keep her on a low dose faebane to keep her powers locked down and quiet.”

Azriel looked at him, slightly shocked. “So poison her instead of helping her control it? Rhys, we know better than this. Her powers will eat her alive.”

“We will figure it out before than, Azriel.” Rhys looked at Amelia, watching as she shivered. “Did he have any ideas for helping her stay warm?”

Azriel nodded, pulling out a heavy sweater in a cream and another in burgundy, and then a soft fluffy pumpkin colored blanket. They reeked of cinnamon and apples, the fabric was unnaturally warm after having been enchanted. “He says we owe him.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Of course we do. The snake doesn't do a single thing unless it benefits him.” he took the blanket, thanking Azriel softly before tucking Amelia in and listening as she released a soft content sigh. She snuggled deeply into her new blanket, shivering stopping almost immediately. “Did he say what he wants?” Rhys moved her hair out of her face. Guilt eating him alive as he saw how peaceful she looked in this forced state.

“He'll call us when he's ready.”

Taglist : @justdreamstars @coralseacourt @kemillyfreitas @impossibelle

#acotar #eris x oc #eris fic #eris acotar #eris acosf #pro eris vanserra #eris x archeron!oc #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra x archeron!oc

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ellievickstar · 3 months

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A Fox's Pain

A/N: I loved this request so much mostly because i have a lot of self induced pain from being clumsy along with the fact i have horrible cramps that make me wanna die for two weeks every month. Can we just agree that protective caring Eris is the best Eris??? Also, I hope your okay slipping on ice sucks and it hurts like a bitch i couldn’t imagine how you feel, remember to take care of yourself!!! (For your info some of the falling is based off my real life cause i thought someone was in my house but i went tumbling to the floor, my foot got caught on the door stop as i was falling and i scratched it and then tripped over it further and died on the floor)

Summary: When you’re clumsy and in pain how will your mate take care of you especially when it pains him to see you this way.

Request: Hi! I was wondering if you could write something about eris taking care of his injured mate or a mate with chronic pain. I fully busted my ass this morning slipping on ice and since I have arthritis, the pain is 10x worse. I can't help but YEARN for the comfort that Eris would bring with his warm hands and reassurance (maybe even a touch of guilt or anger at the gods for bestowing their mate with such pain or even a bonus where the mate gets hurt because of someone else) If this is too specific/complicated, not a problem, but I really love your writing and find so much comfort in it!!

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x reader

Warnings: Chronic pain (reason unspecified), clumsy reader, getting injured, i kinda tried to research a little on arthritis sorry if this is like- wrong. T^T

𓃦°˖➴જ⁀➴

“HELP!” You yelped as you came tumbling to the floor for what might have been the billionth time that day. You had decided to bake so that you could pass time while Eris was in his meeting with the nobles. You were not needed to show up, thankfully, even though you were High Lady most days Eris let you stay in when your body ached and you could not move. Even on days your pain subsided a little and you were able to make public appearances he would hover over you like a really protective cat. You snickered at the idea of Eris almost hissing and clawing at people who got close to you.

Although your earlier bout of tripping oven door had caused you to go crashing, at least the over had cooled down enough that you were not burnt and you had already placed the baked treats safely on the counter. You reached up to maybe take one, a little lazy to stand up from the cool comfortable floor, when a sharp pain stabbed through your arm and you flinched, curling into yourself.

You don’t know how long it took for the pain to start subsiding as you shut your eyes, trying to swallow down the pain. You do not know when your vision started to blur as you stumbled over to the cabinet where the healer had stored the herbs for the pain.

“This hurts like a bitch,” You mumbled to yourself, causing a slight smile to creep over your face before the pain return and you winced. Maybe you should have stayed in bed like Eris said and waited for him to come back. You craved his heated palms soothing your skin and soft whispers as he tried to soothe the ache in your body.

Breathing in, you counted in your head, counting the seconds until you felt okay to move again.

1….

2…..

3……

Breath out.

“You’re okay,” You said firmly. You had grown up with this, you would be fine. You were stronger, you were better than this. You could get through this bout of pain just like very other time. Sighing, you shakily stood up, the dull ache in your joints still present but…better than the stabbing pain you had felt earlier. Wobbling your way to the tray of pastries, you picked up on and just when you were about to put it in your mouth…

You leaned you head back too far and it slammed against the cabinet behind you.

“Shit!” You exclaimed. Cursing out the cabinet, you groaned at the pastry that ended on the floor, bending to pick it up, being careful not to hit anything.

“I think that’s the fourth? Fifth time you’ve done something to hurt yourself?” A cool voiced echoed through the room and as you whipped your head around quickly, too quickly, your foot slipped and you were about to go tumbling again when strong arms shot out and grabbed you by your waist, steadying you. “Clumsy little fox,” He murmured gently lifting you to sit you down on the counter.

“It’s not my fault I wanted to make something nice but the kitchen is so hazerdous,” You shot back. “So hazardous,” He hummed. His warm palms slid over your skin, messaging the ache in your joints with heated skin, the warmth of his magic seeped into your joints and you groaned gratefully, leaning your head into his chest while he worked at your aches.

“You know, you’re helping me but maybe next time keep quiet and just help,” You mumbled. Chuckling, “I don’t remember that complaint last night when I was-,” “Stop, nope, I take back what I said, never mind,” You cut him off quickly. You winced when he touched a particularly painful spot. His eyes softened slightly, and you noticed how his movements slowed and gentled just a tad as he worked on that particular ache, messaging it just like how the healer taught him to.

When he was done, he picked up a pastry from the tray, holding it to your mouth. Your brows quirked as you looked at the pastry to his face, “I can feed myself you know?” “You just hit your head trying to though,” He replied. You rolled your eyes, taking the pastry in your mouth, moaning at the delicious taste as the warm sweetness seeped into you taste buds.

“I’m sorry,” He suddenly said.

“For what?” You asked curiously, reaching to grab another pastry, Eris slid his hands to wrap around your waist again, looking into your eyes.

“I’m sorry that for all the pain that you could feel, I can’t be the one to take away the pain, but I hope that by being here, being with you, I can at least make it bearable. And I’m sorry, that there will never be a day I could truly understand how strong you had to be to survive this illness,” He murmured. Warmth fluttered in your chest and you felt tears well up in your eyes as he pulled you close in an embrace, and as you felt comfort by the warmth of his body against yours, just for a moment, you felt as if everything didn’t matter except the male in front of you.

𓃦°˖➴જ⁀➴

A/N: So I tried my best and this is how it turned out hahha....I hope I didn't disappoint the anon T^T For those who don't know my requests are open for the moment so if you want me to write anything for you guys please let me know. BYEEEE <3

#acotar #acotar fandom #acosf #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #autumn court

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runningwiththeoceans · 10 months

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i love how we all collectively agree that Eris has a cabin in the Autumn Court forest that no one knows about where he keeps his mate.

#eris acotar #acotar #eris vanserra #eris #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x oc #autumn court #acosf #acofas #acomaf #acowar

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sarawritestories · 12 days

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Love Story (All Too Well Chapter 1 Pt 2)

Cassian X OC, Eris X OC

Summary: Under the Mountain, Estella, have flash backs to her 50 years in captivity, and losing hope she will ever see her lover. That is until a human girl shows up and give her and her brother Rhysand something they lost decades ago...Hope and in a matter of mere months she is reunited with the love of her life. The General of the Night Court Armies.

Content Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Torture, Dub con, Physical abuse, Under the mountain trials

A/N: Special Thanks to @milswrites and @eve175 for keeping me sane when I wrote this and honestly prevented me from scraping and starting over again!

Also Two post in one day from me! I am on a roll! And probably will be taking a small break 😅😅

All Too Well Master List ACOTAR Masterlist

The sound of Amarantha’s screams was like music to Eris Vanserra’s ears. He watched as Tamlin ripped her to shreds, glancing over to see Estella holding Feyre’s body close to her murmuring something to herself that his fae hearing couldn’t pick up on. The screams ceased and Tamlin walked back to where the young fae princess and the human cursebreaker.

Eris watched as Estella a tear-streaked face looked up at the High Lord of Spring her laced covered chest heaving, “I’m so sorry Tamlin.” She lowered her head in shame, as if this was her fault.

Tamlin lifted Estella’s face to meet his eyes, “This wasn’t your fault. Okay?”

Eris moved toward Amarantha’s mutilated body as he heard Estella let out a sob, “You asked me to protect her I failed.” Eris closed his eyes and rubbed at his chest hoping the ache would dissipate.

Eris looked over at Amarantha’s remains that were mostly ribbons of flesh and found what he was looking for as Tamlin hushed the Princess of Night. “You did no such thing, Stella, now please give her to me.” Tamlin’s voice was tender as he knelt in front of the female holding his love’s corpse. “Come on, Flower.”

Romeo Save Me Somewhere We Can Be Alone

Eris looked over at the dais to see Estella, half of her pinned to the back of her head, the rest of her hair had fallen past her breast in soft curls. Clad in a sheer orange gown, the fabric barely covering anything, especially how his high queen had her positioned on Tamlin’s lap. Her legs spread by his thighs, her back pressed against his chest. The Princess placed her hand over the Lord of Spring and Eris noticed his thumb moved over hers and began swiping periodically. As if he was trying to bring her comfort. The heir of Autumn knew those two were friends just never realized how close the pair was.

The red-haired male moved his gaze to the rest of the ballroom, fighting the urge to clench his fist, he caught his brother’s attention. His russet eyes met with a similar pair of Lucien, his metal eye zeroing in on him. The young Emissary of the spring court’s face was impassive though his eyes, held pure resentment. Lucien didn’t let his stare linger on his brother rather it moved to his two friends at the front of the room. Guilt threatened to take hold, but the eldest Vanserra brother forced it down in a box where he kept most of his emotions shutting the lid tight. Another person that he had let down.

“Estella, darling be a dear and entertain us.” Amarantha’s voice drew Eris his attention back to the princess of night. “Dance.”

Estella froze, “Your Majesty?”

Amarantha pinched her chin, “I said dance, has whoring you around my court made you dumb.” Eris gripped the side of his leg tightly as he glanced over to the High Lord of Night, his tanned face a mask of cool indifference, Eris gazed lowered to Rhysand’s hands to find his knuckles were white as a result of gripping the arms of his chair tightly.

“No, Your Majesty,” Estella responded. “Or perhaps you would prefer to give a dance to one person.”

Rhysand cleared his throat, “Your majesty, I would be-“

Amarantha whipped her head, “No.” She looked out to the assembly in the hall. “I will accept volunteers from anyone that is not related to her.”

Eris’s feet moved of his own accord and managed to reach the dais before Lucien could. As he bowed lowed, “Your majesty. Though I have no need for a dance, I would be honored.”

Amarantha’s voice had a jovial lilt to it, “Ah Eris Vanserra. Yes, you have my permission to use her, however, you please. Rise. Claim your whore.”

Eris rose to his full height and walked up to the young heiress. He held out a hand for her, “Come now, Viper.” Estella curled her mouth in a small snarl, though her eyes were vacant, hallow as if she mentally went somewhere else. Though she gripped his hand all the same. He yanked her off Tamlin’s lap and pressed her chest to his. His arm snaked around her waist, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of her hip. Electricity bolted up his arm at the contact though he easily ignored it.

“Estella, how do you thank Eris, for claiming you this evening.” Amarantha prodded; Eris didn’t miss her face contorted in a grimace. Before she looked up her ice blue eyes meeting his warm copper ones, life had returned to her, but Eris could feel her dread, it emulated around her like a shield. Though that didn’t stop her from lifting her hand sliding it up the red velvet embroidered vest he was wearing. Or when her soft, gentle fingers slid up his neck and through the silken strands of his long hair.

She rose on her tippy toes her plump lips inches away from his own, “Thank you, Prince Eris,” Estella closed the distance kissed him. Eris slid his hand up her back, lightly grazing her spine as his hand wrapped around her raven-colored locks and yanked her back hard enough to cause a gasp from the princess’ mouth, giving the Autumn Court Heir access to slide his tongue against her. She tasted as sweet as he hoped she would. His tongue clashing with hers he could have sworn a small moan escaped her throat.

The need for oxygen and knowing that the two had put on enough of a show for their audience, Eris pulled away, with a smirk as Estella opened her eyes her pupils blissed out from their moment. Before he could ask, Amarantha, was waving her hand, “Eris you and your pet are dismissed for the evening.”

Eris bowed, and Estella followed suit, aware that it would expose her backside to the fae standing behind them. Eris placed a hand on the small of her back and led her out into the hall. The two had walked down for a few moments the sound of Estella’s skirt swishing against her skin, her hands clasped in front of her, when she asked, “What do you plan on doing with me, Princeling?”

Exhaustion weighed heavily on the prince’s body, as he sighed, “Sleep, My Little Viper. We’re going to sleep.”

This Love Is Difficult, But It's Real

The whole court ogled around and watched as the High Lords of Prythian dropped a kernel of power on the human girl that saved them all. Eris Vanserra on the other hand watched as his brother held onto the Princess of Night as her sobs softened. He could see Lucien whispering in her ear though from where he stood even his fae hearing wouldn’t be able to decipher. Ignoring the spectacle Eris walked over to one his handmaidens.

She bowed when he approached, saying nothing, he gripped the plump woman’s sleeve and began wiping the blood of the Tiara he grabbed. Once he was satisfied, he turned and walked over to Lucien and Estella. The youngest Vanserra son tightened his hold on Estella when Eris approached. “Relax, brother, today is a joyous day. We can put aside our differences for now.” Lucien growled, “Feel free to hate me again tomorrow.”

Estella’s eyes pierced the Autumn Prince’s and Eris presents the tiara glancing down at the lace covered bodice of her dress that dipped down to her stomach, “I believe this belongs to you, Little Viper.” He smirked as he met her eyes again. She glanced at his hands and reached out to grab the accessory from him, tearing herself from Lucien’s arms as she did so. Eris took a step back and dangled the tiara above her head, “Allow me.” He motions for his index finger to spin around. She obeyed and crossed her arms, the dark red silk of her dress swirling as she did. Her scent of Ocean mist and Jasmine invaded his nose he fought the notion to bask in her scent, as he placed the tiara on top of her head. Stepped closer and noticed the sharp breath she took as his nose brushed against her ear, “There now you look fit to rule a kingdom, Princess.”

He could hear her heartrate quicken as he took a step away and once more as cheers erupted through the cave. The three of them turned to find Feyre embraced in Tamlin’s arms, ears pointed heartbeat strong and steady. “By the Cauldron.” Lucien whispered and ran up to his friends. Leaving the two alone.

“I have to thank you, Princeling.” Estella’s voice broke the tension.

“For?”

“Giving me brief little moments of reprieve from this nightmare.” Her piercing eyes met his, “I am in your debt.”

Eris was about to dispute it when in a flash arm wrapped around Estella pulling her into a tight embrace, had he not seen the matching raven-colored hair, the heir of Autumn would have prepared for an attack. Rhysand pulled away as if remembering where he had put his hands in his pockets assessed his sister. “Are you hurt?”

Estella turned to Eris only to find he was already gone. She sighed and looked back at her brother. “I’m fine, Rhys.”

He nodded and, in her mind said, The High Lords are meeting to figure out the next steps. I don’t know how long that will take. Then out loud he said, “As your High Lord, I’m demanding you head home immediately and make sure our court held up in our absence.” Estella noticed the hint of a smirk on his face, Tell Cassian hello for me, and that I’ll be home soon.

Estella’s face lit up, she kissed her brother on the cheek, “Thank you, High Lord.” She took a step, looked back toward Lucien and Tamlin. Both males embracing Feyre. Green eyes met hers and with a dip of his chin she bolted and winnowed home.

I’ll Be Waiting

The Summer night breeze kissed her skin as she arrived in front of the town home. Home. She was home. Picking up her skirts she bolted through the front door of the town home. She could hear laughter in the dining room pause when the door slammed shut. Before anyone could get up, she ran into the room. Gasp and fallen utensils were the only thing she heard before, Morrigan her hair in perfect waves and dressed in her signature red gown rose from her seat, her eyes turning glassy. “So, it’s true? It’s over?” She asked.

Estella wiped the stray tears that had begun to fall, “Yeah. Its over.” She croaked as Mor pulled her into a bone crushing hug. “Fuck, I have missed you guys.”

A pair of scarred calloused hands tugged at her bare shoulders, “Don’t hog her, Mor.” Azriel’s deep voice joked as he pulled her into an embrace of his own. He pulled away and she felt the cool kiss of his shadows up and around her body, checking for injuries. He pressed his forehead to hers, “Its good to have your home.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and guided her to a chair. He began to make her a plate of food, as he asked, “Where’s Rhys?”

Estella eyes grew wide with the spread Azriel placed before her. Taking a heaping bite before she answered, she couldn’t help but moan as the warm food met her mouth. The bountiful flavor bursting on her tongue. She looked at Mor, and Az as she swallowed her food and said, “He said there would be a meeting with the High Lord’s about what is going to happen next, no doubt trying to get Amarantha’s” She fought the cringe at the sound of the female’s name coming out of her mouth, “men collected and figuring out what to do with them.”

Amren’s cold calculating voice was a welcome reprieve, “Why didn’t you stay with him?”

Estella turned her head to the female and smiled, “He wanted me to come home, let you know he would be back soon.” Estella, smiled and looked at the table, acutely aware of the empty missing, “Where is he?”

Azriel gave her a warm smile and placed his hand on top of her own his hazel eyes ablaze with warmth and happiness, “He went to the Illyrian camps a few weeks ago. He has been spending a lot of time up there to personally train his soldiers. He says its to make sure they have the best training we can offer.”

Estella felt guilt bubble in her stomach, “But?”

Azriel’s face fell slightly, his shadows curling around him as a form of comfort, “He had been struggling staying in Velaris for too long. It Reminded him of you and the future you two were planning. He missed you.”

“We all did, Girl.” Amren corrected. Estella’s blue eyes met her swirling silver ones, “Don’t look so surprised. Your quick wit against these overgrown bats was impressive. It was nice to not be the only one with a silver tongue.”

Estella blinked; she couldn’t remember a time when Amren had outwardly complimented her. Though she wasn’t about to question the tiny one’s motives, she went back to shoveling food in her mouth. She went for seconds and cleaned that plate too, Azriel grabbed her plate when she attempted to go for more, “Pace yourself, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“The food was awful down there.” If she got any that was. She didn’t miss the concerned glances from her friends when she arrived. She hadn’t looked in a mirror in 50 years and she was afraid to, terrified at what her reflection might reveal. How badly Amarantha’s abuse taken a toll on her physically as it had emotionally. Estella met Azriel’s gaze and he gave her a smile, kissing the side of her head. Estella cleared her throat, “Um, I am going to go upstairs and wash up.”

Mor gave her a warm smile, one she never thought she would see again, “Your room has not been touched, your clothes have been routinely cleaned.”

Estella rubbed her chest and the base of her throat fighting the emotion threatening to come up. “Thank you.”

Azriel cupped her cheek. Stroking his thumb against her cheek, “Welcome home, Princess.”

She wrapped her arms around Az and squeezed him tightly. “I missed you. I never thought I would see you again.”

“Likewise.” He pressed his hand on the back of her head holding her close. “Fuck.” She pulled away at the Shadow Singer’s expletive and saw that his eyes lined with silver. “I’m just..” He took a deep breath, “I’m just happy to see you.”

“Me too, Az. I missed your face.” He laughed wiping his eyes, as she looked to all three of her friends, “Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you.” The two females rose from their seats and as if they were reading each other’s thoughts smothered the young female into a tight embrace, where she let her tears flow freely.

Home. She was finally, Home.

On The Balcony In Summer Air

The cool night air kissed Estella's skin for the first time in fifty years as she leaned against the balcony the silk of her red night gown doing nothing to prevent the chill, but the female couldn’t bring herself to care. Looking up at the night sky. She couldn't help but smile as tears pickled her pale blue eyes. This is what it felt like:

To be free

"Hello, Sweetheart." The low timbre of a familiar voice elicited a sob to escape her throat. Turning from the view of the city, she met glassy hazel eyes, bruises darkening his tanned skin under them. His wings were tucked back, but his siphons glowed.

She gave him a watery smile, "Hello, General." She covered her mouth to stifle the sobbed. Not being able to contain herself, she leaped into his awaiting arms and legs wrapping around his waist. Burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Cassian's arm held her up by her waist, his free hand pressing the back of her head holding her close, tears streaming down his own face. Estella pulled away and pressed her lips to his.

Cassian pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers, "Welcome home, Estella." And his lips reattached to hers as he took her to their shared bed. Plopping her down on the bed his hazel eyes met her blue ones he swiped a strand of hair from her face.

She cupped her hands against his face, and took a moment to look at him, his eyes had dark circles under them, as if he hadn’t had a good night’s rest in the last fifty years. He had grown out a beard the scruff rough against her skin. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” She whispered.

Cassian cupped his hand against her cheek, tears spilling down his face. “I’m thinking that you are just as beautiful as the last time I saw you.” He kissed her forehead, “I’m thinking that I can’t believe that you are right here in my arms.” She closed her eyes as he pressed his lips to her cheek. “I’m thinking…” He took a deep breath, and she opened her eyes. “I’m thinking, how I never thought I would see you again. And yet here you are.”

Estella smiled, “Here I am.” She took his hand and placed it over her heart and he closed his eyes as he felt its steady beat. “Cassian, not a day went by where I didn’t wish to be with you. To be in your arms.” Tears threatened to fall but she forced it down. “I missed you so much.”

Cassian shushed her and placed his lips on to hers in a gentle kiss, “It’s okay, Sweetheart, I know. I missed you. More than you could ever know.” He kissed her again, “And just so we’re clear when your brother comes home. I am beating the shit out of him.”

“Cass?”

“Hmm?” He smirked.

She gripped the collar of his leathers and pulled him closer to him, he growled in approval as she whispered on his lips, “Do not talk say my brother’s name while you’re in my bed.” And she clashed her lips onto his.

Estella ran her fingers through Cassian’s curls as the General was fast asleep on his stomach. Sliding out of her bed, she opened the drawer of her nightstand, grabbed a piece of parchment, and walked back out onto her balcony. Looking back once more she made sure that Cassian remained asleep as she turned back to the parchment in her hands. Opening the parchment thinking about the author of the note.

Estella awoke back in her cell. The memory of Autumn leaves and cinnamon returning to her. She adjusted to a sitting position her brows furrowing as she felt something in her palm. Opening the note, her breath quickened as bile threatened to rise as the question, she asked the night before came to the forefront of her mind:

“Then what do you want with me, Princeling?”

One sentence gave her his answer in perfectly neat handwriting.

I want you, My Little Viper.

Estella folded the paper and threw it on the opposite side of the cell. Pulling her knees up to her chest she had to question just how far the Prince of Autumn would go to get what he wants.

Estella sighed, staring down at the swirls of Eris’ handwriting, questions swirling in her mind. As if she summoned him with her thoughts; a note appeared in front of her. Grabbing the parchment, she unfolded it.

Will you ever truly be free, Little Viper?

Estella glared at the parchment hoping it would erupt into flames. Folding both notes, she walked into her room, placed the notes in her nightstand, and went back to bed. The General of the Night Court’s armies arm pulling her against his chest. Though luscious red hair and russet eyes plagued her dreams.

You’ll Be The Prince and I’ll Be the Princess

After fifty long years Eris, stepped into the familiar room of orange, red and gold hues of his study. Twelve heads perked up as they saw Eris step in. The familiar dark eyes of his hounds perked up and all of them ran to their owner’s side. He bent down on a knee and allowed each of them a total of one lick per dog. Unable to fight the smile from his features of reuniting with his companions. “Hello dear Friends. I have missed you dearly.” They all swished their tails at the sound of their master’s voice.

Home after Amarantha’s fall, the High Lords met for two days in a row and after sitting in a room with massive egos, it was nice to return home to the quiet of his study. He walked over to his desk the mountain of paperwork there. He sighed and leaned against his chair closing his eyes, only for the ice blue eyes and raven-black hair plagued his brain. He pressed his hands to his eyes and groaned.

He sat up and removed his hands from his eyes, as an idea began to form. Opening his drawer to find his favorite quill and ink pots right where he left them. Pulling them out along with the stack of parchment. Eris began to write, as soft pink lips and the scent of Ocean Mist and Jasmine lingered in his mind as his quill began swirling across the parchment:

My Sweet Little Viper. My Beautiful Mate.

It’s A Love Story, Baby, Just Say Yes

To Be Continued...

Story tags: @milswrites @eve175 @melsunshine @believinghurts @awkardnerd @historygeekqueen @mischiefmanagers @mybestfriendmademe @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @glitterypirateduck @littlestw01f @mal-adaptive-dreams @lilah-asteria @hellodarling1357 @shadowdaddies @bxm-1012 @inkyvelvet @chasing-autumns-chill @ghostwritermia @esposadomd @anuttellaa @slytherintaco @marigold-morelli @saltedcoffeescotch

If I missed someone please let me know!

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar #cassian imagine #eris imagine #eris x oc #eris x reader #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra #eris acosf #eris acotar

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artethyst · 2 months

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~ Leaves In A Sky Full Of Stars ~

Eris Vanserra x Rhysand’s Sister! Reader/OC

“Lucien,” Eris growled, stalking over to his sobbing and heavily pregnant mate, his brother could only stand there awkwardly, in a fruitless attempt to soothe her.

“I swear I had no part in this!” The Emissary raised his hands in mock surrender as his sister in law continued to cry, unrelenting tears spilling down her pale cheeks.

Eris sighed, and whilst he wished she would stay inside like the Healers had recommended, he couldn’t deny her anything.

His only request was that his brother chaperone her should she feel restless, especially if he happened to be caught up in meetings he was unable to be in absence of.

Eris gently removed his overcoat and draped it over her shoulders, overly paranoid that she would catch a chill in her weakened state and ignored the way Lucien rolled his eyes at his brother’s worrying.

Lucien knew, beneath everything, the feared High Lord of Autumn was nothing but a softie. A mama’s boy who would do anything for his wife should she merely ask of it.

He was certain Eris would have surrendered even his own crown- the one he had spent centuries suffering for, if it meant she was happy.

“I can’t understand what she’s saying,” Lucien was almost just as panicked, knowing whatever was wrong he’d surely be blamed for it.

“Well, we both know how successful you are with the ladies,” Eris drawled and Lucien snarled at the reference to his own mate. “My work is done for the day, you may leave.”

Lucien bowed and sent one lasting gaze at the two of them, admittedly unnerved by her frantic state.

Until recently he had never seen her cry in the many years of knowing her, and whilst he would never admit it out loud, she had always been his favourite member of the Inner Circle.

“My love,” Eris soothed her by playing with her hair, she had found solace against his hard chest as she let out small gasps, taking comfort in his scent as he provided comforting waves of love down the bond. “Tell me, what is making you so upset, hmm?”

His words held no taunt as she sniffled, and he would never tell her that he found it rather endearing how she looked- so vulnerable with her cheeks aflame and violet eyes glossy.

“T-That hawk!” She whimpered, a shaky hand moving to point at the tree before them, and only he could’ve understood her choked out words as they were sobbed into him. “I-It pushed a p-poor baby b-bird out of i-its nest a-and-“ the next part was too horrific for her to say and she cried harder as Eris sighed, stroking the back of her neck.

Oh, for anyone to see her now.

The Crown Princess of the Night Court, feared magic wielder who helped slaughter many in the war and High Lady of Autumn, brought to tears- over a baby bird.

He supposed it had something to do with the little flame growing in her stomach.

“E-Eri I want you to kill it,” the soft tone of her voice betrayed its sentiment as he paused his ministrations for a moment, his eyebrow raised in amusement. “Make it p-pay for s-slaughtering that d-defenceless creature!”

He withheld a chuckle at the irony of her demand, pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head before adjusting their position so her back was flush against his front.

His chin grazed her scalp as he effortlessly flicked his hand, the unassuming hawk turning to ash in an instant as she watched in satisfaction.

No matter how silly, trivial or frivolous her demand, he would always comply.

“Better now my love?” He crooned as she became giddy, throwing her arms around his neck as he breathed in her scent- a sickly sweet smell of a youngling mixed with his own.

It brought a new possessiveness- pride within him to know she now carried his smell with her, a subtle hint of spice and ember imbedded in her natural twinge of jasmine.

He felt her heart soar as she tugged against his own through the bond, her soft cheek nuzzling against his rough hand which came to gently rub at her damp skin.

“I’ve missed you,” she mumbled, as he unwittingly melted at her words, thinking he might never get used to the love she had shown him- insisted that he deserved.

“You saw me this morning Bunny,” he teased as she pouted.

“That was hours ago!” She insisted guiding his calloused palm to her slightly protruding stomach. “I need you…We need you.”

He couldn’t help a genuine smile overtaking his wry smirk, feeling the life they created flicker beneath their joined hands.

“It seems our little ember agrees,” he mused and despite his biting fear of her upcoming labour, as everyone knew- Fae births were not only extremely rare, but horrifically dangerous, despite it all he was happy.

Despite what having a child would mean, a new threat to him he had no doubt people would take advantage of, he couldn’t help but feel at peace too.

At peace with himself. At peace with his mate and their unborn baby which would soon complete their little makeshift family.

#eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris x oc #eris vanserra x oc #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x oc #eris vandaddy #acotar fic #fanfic

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lucienarcheron · 2 months

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Spirit Meets the Bones - I

Eris and Iris. Son of a high lord, daughter of a fiend. An arranged marriage brought them together and beneath all the hate, the two are more alike than they’d like to be.

Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse.

Author's Note: Today marks the three-year anniversary of when I first posted this story and what better day to start reposting than today! It means so much that people stuck around and are still excited for it to continue. I hope you enjoy how it unfolds!

biggest shoutout will go to @abruisedmuse ♥️ without you, I don't know how I'd finish this fic. ily!

Find it all here.

Eris's hands were clasped behind his back as he stood rigidly next to the female who had now become shackled to him. His bride had only repeated the words of binding in a dull, dry tone and shifted her face slightly so he’d kiss her cheek rather than her lips in front of everyone. Already, she had more nerve than he anticipated. He had only smiled.

The two now stood in their finest before his parents, the festivities of the wedding raging on behind them. It would continue to rage on when the bride and groom took their leave. It all meant nothing to either of them.

Eris stood in his suit, tailor-made, and fitted in forest green. Iris’s bridal gown of white covered every inch of her, painted against every delicate curve. Eris had only stolen glances, not looking for too long. The hatred in her eyes had become grating.

He spared Iris another side glance, aware his father was watching him, and gave his parents a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, Father. You spared no costs on this wedding.”

“If only the bride and groom seemed to enjoy it as well.”

Eris offered his father another tight smile. “It all happened so fast. We’re both a bit whiplashed but I’m sure Iris loved it as much as I did,” he said and finally fully looked at his bride. “Didn’t you...wife?”

Iris automatically bowed her head towards the Lord and Lady of Autumn and turned her gaze to her now-husband. “Of course...husband. Forgive me, I am a little tired. It’s been a long day.”

Eris and Iris.

Iris and Eris.

He only looked at her with boredom.

She looked at him wanting to desperately snap his neck.

“Well, run along then. Enjoy your wedding night. Don’t embarrass me, son. Make sure to show your bride a good time.” Beron mused with a laugh and the Lady of Autumn, Lady Enya, gave Eris a pleading look as he nodded to his parents.

“Welcome to the family, Iris.” Lady Enya said softly.

Iris bowed her head in thanks and turned once more to look at her now-husband who gave her a small smirk and Eris couldn’t take his eyes off her. Couldn’t help the slight glee at how hard she was trying not to sneer back at him.

“Come along wife, it’s time for the fun part of being married,” Eris said with a coy smile and held out his arm.

But Iris only stared at it. She stared at his arm and wondered what would happen if she just...snapped it off his body. Or stabbed him. Or at least attempted either option. Her father had nearly ripped her head off when he found out about the small knife hidden beneath her dress. The sting of his smack had barely settled down before she walked into her wedding. Nonetheless...her fingernails could be sharp enough to maim.

When a moment passed and Iris still hadn’t taken his arm, Eris stepped closer to her.

“Take my fucken arm before I drag you out of here.” he hissed and Iris blinked then tilted her head towards him with a shy smile, the ever-blushing bride as she approached him and slipped her arm through his. Never mind that it was trembling slightly.

“Try dragging me out,” she said softly. “I’ll only end up dragging your bleeding body back across this hall.”

It was Eris’s turn to blink then his lips twisted into a smirk. “Is that what your eyes have been trying to tell me? We can fulfill your dirty little fantasy once we’re alone.”

Iris stood before her husband and schooled her expression so that anyone looking at her would see her gaze reverent rather than murderous. As if they didn’t know how reverent murdering someone you hated could be.

“Oh, does that mean once we’re alone, I can run a blade several times through your torso?” she said sweetly. “Because that’s exactly what I was fantasizing about.”

Eris chuckled, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. The challenge in her voice. The sternness in her hooded eyes. “Big words for a shaking gazelle in a room full of wolves,” he said softly and leaned in to kiss her temple, ever the besotted groom. “Don’t forget, you married the worst of them. I’d watch that pretty mouth if I were you.”

Iris let him pull away and let him see the shy smile on her face even as rage flashed in her eyes. Her grip tightened on his arm and she leaned into him again. “Or what?”

A chuckle slipped out before he could help himself. Bold. She was bolder than he expected. “You’ll find out once we’re behind a closed door, wife.”

He felt her body tense but paid her no mind as he nodded his acknowledgment to the people congratulating them, as he did practically drag her out of the room. The sooner they got out of there, the sooner this night would be over and he could somehow think of how to handle this female that had been shoved at him.

They walked in silence down the hall, nodding to any lingering guests before turning a corner and the path before them was empty.

“Did you lose your tongue, little gazelle? No more big words now that you don’t have an audience?” he said quietly, as the two walked down the halls of The Forest House towards their wing. A whole wing where he was to now live with his little lady. “Not going to try and run?”

She finally yanked her arm free from his and openly glared. “And go where?” she spat. “As if you wouldn’t drag me back here and humiliate me for trying.”

Eris only hummed his response and watched as she huffed then continued walking and he took the time to openly observe her in the silence. In a tense, nearly suffocating silence.

His wife.

Wife.

He mouthed the word silently to himself then frowned thinking of how, for the second time, he was forced into a union he had little say in. At least this one hadn’t fucked anyone else as far as he was aware.

It wouldn’t have mattered if she did at this point. She was now his and he was hers. There was no escape. There would be nobody else. And Eris wasn't exactly sure how to feel about this.

How was he supposed to feel about a female he knew nothing about? How, exactly was he supposed to feel when he had only found out a month before the wedding that she was to be his?

Her father, a wealthy merchant — a criminal as Eris had understood, wanted to build better ties with the High Lord of Autumn to no doubt get away with things he shouldn’t. Never mind that the male was as big of a piece of shit as his father. He had simply offered his daughter to Beron as a bride for Eris like she meant nothing to him. Wrapped her up for him like a delicious dessert to be eaten.

And delicious she was. Eris let his eyes roam her body as she stalked in front of him toward the room. She didn't even know which way they were supposed to be going and yet, the confidence in her walk of rage didn’t hold her back. Her chestnut brown hair coiled up in braids, the tiara sitting atop her head, exposing her long lovely neck.

The train of her dress trailed behind her and he only quirked his brow at the design, not as frilly as he had expected. Then again, he knew nothing about her. No one had given him the chance.

Eris stepped on the tip of the dress’s train and she startled, a small gasp escaping her lips. Turning sharply, she glared at him.

“Get off my dress.” she seethed but he only gave her a small smile.

“We’re here.” he said and watched as she froze again, color seeming to drain from her face. He pursed his lips and wondered just how badly she thought this was going to go. “Are you thinking about running now?”

This seemed to unfreeze her body and Iris blinked at him. “Just open the door.” she muttered quietly. But he could hear her heart beating. He could almost taste her fear and his lips curled in disdain.

Eris waved his hand for the door to open and with a mocking bow, he gestured for Iris to step inside. She gave him a withering look then slowly stepped into the room and Eris followed her in.

The two stood in the doorway of the suite taking in the grandness, the room a swirl of all the autumn colors in one, coming together to give it a look of a magical place of rest. Never mind that the two people required to live here wanted to do anything but be in this space. The suite was huge, decorated with a seating area in one corner, a small dining space in another, a bedroom set that included a large closet across the wall, a vanity, and —

Iris’s eyes fell on the bed that was big enough to fit six people and her fists clenched. She only gave him a look of loathing and wrapped her arms around herself, wanting to refuse even acknowledging the space.

But then Eris closed the door and locked it, and the sense of panic she had been holding back all day filled the room. He heard her swallow and as he took one step closer, Iris whirled around.

“Don’t touch me.” she snarled.

Eris paused then took a deep breath, his hands once again clasped behind his back, a sour taste in his mouth. Naturally, she was to assume the worst about him. Naturally, he might as well oblige her.

“You’re my wife now. I thought the whole point of the wedding night was for us to be touching as much as possible,” he said quietly, his signature smirk gracing his face as he moved closer to her. “Or did they not teach you that?”

Iris flushed and shot him a glare, pointing viciously. “Don’t you take that tone with me or I’ll make you regret it.”

Eris’s smile was feral at the challenge. “Claws are coming out now, are they, wife?” he said quietly and took another step closer. “I wonder if you have claws like that in bed.” He tilted his head, observing her. “Why is your dress so modest? Didn’t they tell you I like to see some skin?”

She took another step back, hating the predatory look in his gaze. “You won’t be near my dress for too long so don’t concern yourself with it.”

“Are you sure about that? I do need to fulfill my husbandly duties and take it off of you.” he said again and took the final step for them to share a breath. “Make you feel all the wonderful things a husband should make his wife feel.”

“Stop talking to me that way.” she hissed, shoving him back.

He chuckled and grabbed her arm firmly, pulling her into his chest. “I will talk to you however I see fit, especially when it makes you flush so beautifully.”

And indeed, Eris hadn’t gotten the chance to stare at her so openly until this moment and it was unfortunate how beautiful she actually was. Very unfortunate, he thought, especially when his own heart started beating wildly in his chest and he felt hers sing to the same erratic rhythm.

The world seemed to still as his fingers gripped her arm. His amber eyes found her hazel ones and both pairs of eyes widened slightly. His gaze intensified as he soaked in her features and how a few loose strands of hair had slipped to frame her face so wonderfully. Iris’s own thoughts had paused at how close his lips were to hers and the way he stood so elegantly and effortlessly towering over her.

It was truly unfortunate. Because Eris’s eyes had flickered down to her lips and back, the corner of his lips lifting. How much would she hate him if were to kiss her? Could he have one taste?

Iris flushed deeply as Eris leaned in even closer and she did the only thing she could think of to get away from him.

Eris let out a groan of pain as she kneed him in the balls and crossed to the other side of the room.

“What the fuck was that for?” he hissed, doubled over, his glare meeting the one Iris shot at him.

“I told you not to touch me. Married or not.” she hissed, taking a step back. “And based on everything I’ve heard about you, I definitely don’t want you touching me.”

Eris ran his tongue over his teeth as he straightened and took another step towards her.

A chair flew towards him then and he barely ducked in time.

“What the ever-loving fuck —”

“Stay on your side of the room.”

“I’m not going to —”

“One more step and the dagger will be next.”

Eris stared at her in confusion, at the dagger that looked so much like —

He looked down at his belt where he knew his dagger to be sheathed...except it was not.

“You were too busy trying to intimidate me to notice,” she said with a snort, and gone was the trembling gazelle that he’d seen all day, his dagger twirling her hand. “Surprise.”

Eris blinked then huffed out a noise of disbelief. “Well, wife. This is an interesting turn of events...How did you manage to steal it?”

“Most males are stupid and get easily distracted by beautiful females. If I let you believe I was weak, you automatically assumed you could dominate me and lose the upper hand,” she said simply and shrugged. “Your mistake.”

He narrowed his eyes. “From the things your father told me about you, handling weapons wasn’t on the list.”

“My father is a lying piece of shit and doesn’t know an actual thing about me.”

“He told me your passion was piano and you prefer to stay indoors because you were sensitive to the sun,” Eris stated flatly and Iris rolled her eyes.

“I do love piano but the only thing I’m sensitive to are the bruises he gifts me that people would notice if he let me out as often as I’d like.”

Eris froze. A distant roaring filled his ears as he stared at Iris. He stared and stared and when she narrowed her eyes at him, he clenched his teeth and took a breath.

“Your father beats you?” he asked quietly.

Iris shrugged and it was a shrug that he knew well. A shrug he had mastered to deflect Beron’s marks on his own body. A shrug he had mirrored from his own mother.

“My father seemed giddy at the idea that you’d be beating me too,” Iris began and sunk the dagger into the table with a loud thud, before meeting his gaze again. “But if you think that gives you permission to lay a hand on me, I will break every single one of your fingers and carve your heart out of your body. I would die trying.”

Eris stared at her. Trying to think of a response. Trying to think of all the things he’d heard about her before this moment.

“My daughter is delicate.” her father had told him. “She’s also foolish and needs guidance with a heavy hand. Don’t be afraid to put her in her place.”

There was nothing delicate about the fiery rage he saw in the female in front of him. Nothing but sharp glares and determination. Her stance alone told him she would be nothing of what he had expected.

His mother’s bruised skin flashed in his mind and Eris swallowed then met Iris’s gaze.

“I would never harm you,” he said firmly and she tilted her head, quirking a brow.

“Your reputation says otherwise.”

“My reputation is catered to a specific audience.”

“Your reputation is the reason I am willing to kill you and face death myself rather than let you turn me into the broken doll my father tried to make me.”

Eris pursed his lips at that and slipped a hand in his pocket, the other coming to brush back his hair. “It appears wife, that you and I aren’t what we seem.”

Iris crossed her arms. “So it seems, husband.”

“We wasted time not getting to know each other a month ago.” Eris scoffed with an eye roll and Iris froze. “Your father insisted you were too nervous and shy.”

“What do you mean a month?” she asked breathlessly, her hands fisting at her sides.

Eris’s blink marked his confusion. “A month. Our engagement was announced a month ago.”

Iris blinked then blinked again and Eris watched as a cascade of emotions flashed across her face.

“A week.” she gasped out. “I was told a week ago.”

Eris’s eyes narrowed and he took in her shaking hands. “A week?” he asked quietly.

Iris only stared at him and he felt his chest tighten when she started taking deep breaths. Eris opened his mouth to say something — he felt compelled to say anything — but she held up a hand.

“I will only say this once,” Iris spoke, her voice surprisingly steady. “We may be sharing a bed but we will not...go further than that.”

Eris frowned, his own hands fisted at his sides. “Alright.”

She blinked in return. “Alright?”

His expression immediately turned sour at that. “I think the expectations for tonight have been made very clear. What more do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I don’t want anything from you.” Iris replied, all steadiness was gone from her voice as her face fell. “I wish I had nothing to do with you.”

And with that statement, she darted into their shared bathroom and slammed it shut.

Eris remained rooted to his place and simply stared after her, at the closed door she now hid behind, his thoughts a thousand miles a minute.

He thought about their names and the silly way they matched.

He thought about the similar father figure they seemed to have and the history they seemed to share.

He thought about the small thrill he had felt when he had been within kissing range.

Eris's frown deepened at the sniffle he heard from behind the door and wondered...just how much hell would they be in for now.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra x oc #smtb chapters #spirit meets the bones #acotar fanfiction #gfics

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loneliestluvr · 5 days

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𝑻𝒐 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑰 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒐, 𝒊.

i. ii.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron OC

Warning: depression, worthlessness, cauldron trauma, angst, that’s kinda it for now tbh.

Word Count: 1.9k

taryn thinks: ive been thinking about eris vanserra for a long time and reading lost bonds by @readychilledwine about tamlin kind of gave me some inspo and motivation i haven’t had in a while to write this. also ttpd because ive been down in the dumps and feeling angsty so… enjoy!! 🫶🏼 i apologize if it’s a bit scrambled lol, i just wanted to write it out.

The fabric Nuala and Cerridwen had dressed her in erased any and all traces of the truth. The destitute it had felt her life became since this newfound immortality ripped everything Blair Archeron had ever known away from her, tucked away. Hidden behind the gauzy chiffon.

There had been small pockets of awareness, of feeling like she had control over herself lately. Where she didn’t rot away in bed, or a chaise— alone and wrapped in the quiet of her mind. Staring into open space, ghosting through whatever this life was.

Those times were hard to come by, and even when the war against Hybern was raging it was decided Blair would stay safe in Velaris. Where she had always remained. Where she did not leave, until today.

It was a pointed argument among their small circle that this life was no better than what Feyre had been through with Tamlin, but Blair did not fight it. Simply… existed inside of it.

It wasn’t that nobody tried to help, they did. They asked questions, gave the second eldest sister every chance to open up. To get out, to experience this new world. To talk.

Elain would argue even when she did, it was mere hollows of the person Blair had been who responded. The echoes that remembered how to speak, that walked so smoothly and carelessly that she seemed to float on a hot wind.

Blair was not fearless, she was not cunning, she was not soft, nor was she anything that her sisters were. She was simply… other.

And maybe that was the furthest thing from simple, that there were no words to describe the ethereal beauty of her hollowness. Maybe there never would be.

Blair didn’t seem to mind, and she got away with it.

Content was the feeling that seemed the most appropriate to describe the life she lead now. Moved into her youngest sisters River Home, with a large room at the end of the house overlooking the winding waters. The gardens Elain had crafted and tended when she wasn’t at the townhouse sat below, the large expanse of the land out to the river in full view. The snow capped mountains that danced across the skyline, one’s she sometimes watched Feyre paint in front of from her window day after day, month after month.

She supposed she had it coming when Nesta was forced to the House of Wind. When her older sister by a mere year had pointed out that Blair had amounted to nothing in the time Nesta had been taken hostage inside that House on the side of the mountain. When Nesta had been expected to work and be something, Blair had still remained as useless as before.

“She is adjusting,” Feyre had argued on Blair’s behalf. Blair had been the kindest of their sisters to Feyre when they were in that cabin, poor and broken and nothing. Who had helped with no qualms, who had genuinely cared for them all— even their seemingly worthless father. “—she did not ask for this, the same as you. At least she is not drinking herself to death.” The smartest of them, as Feyre had described to Rhys’ Inner Circle before those meetings in the mortal realm, others would have thought the same if they knew her before.

Before she became this… thing.

“You let her wither away, sitting about in her sadness and grief and her muteness. I would think she had forgotten how to speak if it weren’t for the utterly mundane responses she gives.” Nesta had barked back at their little sister while Blair sat by the window, unmoving. Her face a mask of cool indifference like she wasn’t quite hearing anyway. “How is what she’s doing any different than what I have? Because she isn’t spending your money? Because she hasn’t tainted Rhysand’s precious Court image?”

She didn’t care how they spoke of her, didn’t care to defend herself from Nesta’s forked tongue— it took more energy than she had to argue. Blair could have washed away right into the water that rushed through the river she stared into for all she cared.

Everything had just gone so… wrong from that point. As if Nesta’s breaking point was seeing her first baby sister be so broken and discarded, she had ripped into a secret nobody had even bothered to tell Feyre or Blair— that Feyre’s babe would kill her.

The rest had been a blur like usual after and here they were, dressed and gowned in the finest clothes they had. In the short time since finding out about Feyre’s deadly predicament, everyone seemingly had agreed with Nesta about Blair’s lack of presence in their court… or any at all.

The only people who knew she existed were those that were present when she was forced into the bitterly cold water of the cauldron. When it had felt as though she drowned, that she had died there and something else had filled her body. Felt as though she could only see herself from outside of her body, outside of whatever she had became.

Blair Archeron would be making her debut to the Court of Nightmares in the same fashion Feyre would be revealing her pregnancy. She didn’t know much else, didn’t care for the details or even why Nesta had been training in dances they both knew since childhood. Just what she was to wear and to come when called.

To admit the dress she was now wearing wasn’t utterly beautiful would be a disgrace in itself, and she looked stunning.

Despite her pointed ears being viewable, Blair’s long and heavy gold-brown hair had been curled gorgeously, cascading down her freckled and fair bare back to cover where her dress did not. Kissing and tickling the skin when she moved her head, half of her hair pulled back from her face into loose twirls and braids.

Her face painted in light cosmetics that she didn’t need. It was no secret that her beauty came first out of the four sisters, even before dear Elain’s— skin freckled, dark lashes and brows, cheeks usually tinted pink naturally. But her eyes, her eyes were the rarest of her sisters and what made her so profoundly different.

A base of that gray-blue that grew more vibrant as it met her pupil. But the flecks of nearly golden amber splattered like an artist had flicked their wrist in a rush is what made them so different.

Why the black of her dress fit her so much better than it did poor Elain, her second youngest sister nearly washed out by the bleak darkness she had been presented to wear.

The dress clinging to Blair’s torso was bedecked in gold sparkling beads that formed lines of detail along the bodice and the hem by her feet, the fabric black beneath it. Hugging tight to her figure. Eating and drinking had gotten easier after the war and had allowed her to fill out again.

Her full breasts wrapped tight to her chest where they sat prettily, the dips in her hips and waist outlined by the sheer sleeves that flared well past her hands, capped around her shoulders but left her back utterly bare despite the illusion of the chiffon looking like a cape.

The dress hung from her body as she waited almost carelessly to enter the throne room of Hewn City, and Blair felt a little like she might die.

The air here, anywhere, was so much colder than the sweltering heat of her bedroom where she kept the fire roiling day and night— where she felt like she was at home even if it was just in her head. Sleeping on the floor in front of it most nights, where the crackling of the fire could drown out the sound of her thoughts. Where the warmth could make her feel something other than empty.

Now. Feyre’s voice rang warmly in Blair’s head, echoing outside of the thick walls of forest she’d been taught to put up. Spruce and oak, winding paths lined with red poppy’s and orange geraniums, fogged over meadows to traipse through at will. A maze for anyone else, with no beginning and no end.

The rest of them had gone in a half hour ago it seemed, Blair to be used if they needed to pull a distraction or anything. She would be introduced no matter what, but timing was to be used as an advantage.

The towering doors to the throne room boomed open as Blair turned the corner to the hallway, the curls in her hair bouncing with every step despite the light wind billowing through her flowing sleeves as if she were gliding.

The music continued as she kept her head high and entered the space, hands folded neatly in front of her. A small upward twitch of her pretty red lips, her face calm and still.

Still as the room became when her feet hit the marble across that threshold.

She walked, one foot in front of the other. Head in a full fog before she even entered the throne room— but there was a tug. Something that had almost made her stumble, but she sucked in a tight breath as she focused on the dais ahead.

Pulling, tugging, a line going taut the closer she became and her vision cleared. Someone that had been in deep discussion before Blair entered, someone now turned to face her as everyone else did.

All but the Court of Dreamers gaping at her, at her beauty. So much different than her obvious sisters, a third sister to the High Lady of the Night Court, but so much the same that it was easily distinguishable. Gasps and whispers filling Blair’s now clear ears, but she didn’t look anywhere but the male in front of Rhys and Feyre— as much as she wanted to. As much as she pleaded with herself to look away, she could not.

The bright auburn hair, the pale and freckled skin of his handsome face. All fae were gorgeous, she’d been told and equally come to learn but… just the very look of him made her skin heat.

A look of something similar washed through his amber eyes, the matching amber to the flecks in her own, his throat bobbing.

Something like devastation went through this male and though Blair couldn’t tear her eyes from his as she finally made those last steps to the dais, she could see Rhys’ mask slip ever so slightly from the corner of her eye before it went back up.

There was a part of her, so enamored by whoever this person was— and something about him made her slip back into consciousness. That outside look at herself faded back into her own body and she didn’t realize until she breathed again that her heart had been beating so rapidly.

Or that she hadn’t addressed her High Lord and Lady.

Or that they’d demanded the crowd go back to dancing and drinking and eating.

Or that all she did was face this male, a look of shocked confusion painting her usually dull expression because somehow, someway, she felt like she knew him.

And that the tug she felt, that line, went utterly taut before him.

🏷️: @thehighladywrites and anyone else that wants to be added to a tag list for this or anything else lmk lmfao

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra #autumn court #night court #elain archeron #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #rhysand #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra x oc #oc #your honor i love him #me when mating bonds😦#cassian #Azriel #blair archeron

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prythianpages · 2 months

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Give 'Em Hell | Part Two

beron's daughter OC x eventually Azriel | Beron Vanserra is a man with many sinful secrets but there is one that desires to punish him. His daughter. His true firstborn and heir to the Autumn Court.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Some of the country folk of Autumn are protesting Beron's rule and there is talk of rebellion. The Phoenix. And Beron begins to wonder if the enemy is among his inner circle.

Warnings: bullying, violence, harsh insults thrown oc's way/ brief mentions of sexual assault (groping)

A/N: I'm so sorry this took me forever to update. This has been in my drafts since November omg. I got this idea/motivation to write this at a time where I was at the peak of my female rage lol and now things in my life are better. However, I did always want to write a character who is "evil." Using quotation marks because that's still up to be decided on. For this OC, I'm drawing huge inspiration from Game of Thrones, especially with Daenary's character. Also, I know that birth order does not dictate who inherits the title High Lord but in this fic and probs in canon too, Beron hates the idea of Autumn having a High Lady.

Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture.

Deaths, heartbreaks and traumatic events may pass but the memory lives on, lingering like a haunting and tormenting spirit. The Pryalis family has been threatened to become a distant memory, torturing the remaining patriarch of what was once.

Once a strong and powerful big household, the Pryalis family was now reduced to just one. Edmund Pryalis. Or so he thought.

Among the wreckage of his beloved son’s home, remained a young female. She had been found, a couple of feet away from the house at the edge of the surrounding forest, with signs of struggle etched onto her pale body, bruised and scarred. She had been trembling and terrified when Edmund had approached her, demanding to know who she was and what had happened. He had not been prepared for the words that had broken off from her quivering lips.

She was his son’s bastard daughter. His bastard granddaughter.

Edmund had not questioned it. His son was known for being disloyal to his wife. It was inevitable to not sire a bastard child and if his son’s scandalous endeavors were not enough to convince him, the female strongly resembled his late wife and daughter with her sun-kissed auburn hair, high cheekbones and striking eyes. However, the color of her eyes were not the infamous emerald green the Pryalis family was known for but a chestnut brown instead.

If it weren’t for the deaths of his son and family, his heirs, he would’ve done Prythian a favor and rid it of one more bastard. But he didn’t. He refused to allow the Pryalis name to fade into memory and so now there were two.

“May their ashes rise and flames persist in eternity.”

The air carried the scent of damp earth as the leaves rustled with the wind, whispering their final farewells to the departed souls resting beneath. Edmund pulled his gaze from the tombstone below and to the young weeping female. He gestured for her to follow him and they silently made their way to the entrance of the cemetery, where a carriage awaited them.

As Edmund placed a foot on the carriage step, a sudden realization compelled him to pause. There was one more question he had yet to ask of his bastard granddaughter. “What is your name?”

“Emilia.” The female had replied.

And if Edmund had bothered to turn around, he would’ve caught the flames flickering in her eyes.

“Two will soon become three until there are finally eight but one will not be true to you and only one shall come to be.”

Beron found himself surrounded by the weight of the soothsayer’s prophecies, uttered nearly three centuries past, as he surveyed the grandeur of his Autumn Court's council chamber. There was more truth to the soothsayer’s words than he’d like to admit. To his left, his four eldest sons occupied their appointed seats, a testament to the continuation of his lineage. On his right, the key figures of his advisory council – chief advisor, spymaster, master of coin, and army commander – assumed their positions

His two younger sons were away, honing their skills in the art of war, preparing for a future fraught with uncertainties. And Lucien…

Well, Lucien was doing everything a High Lord’s son probably shouldn’t and Beron couldn’t bring himself to care for it at this moment. There were other pressing matters to attend to.

"Mistwood grows restless," Fenrik, the spymaster, began cautiously. "Whispers of an uprising persist, and while rumors can be as fleeting as the wind, this tale echoes persistently…”

Beron's piercing gaze bore into Fenrik, a silent command for the truth to be unveiled.

“I am uncertain whether it is a person or a group but there's mention of a Phoenix. A harbinger of a brighter tomorrow. Faced with the specter of an impending famine, some villagers may be swayed to rebellion against our presence."

A tense silence falls upon the room as Fenrik’s words hang in the air like a foreboding mist. That is, until Eris, the heir to the Autumn Court, decides to break it.

“Perhaps, we should provide them with enough sustenance to quell their thirst to riot,” Eris suggests, his voice resonating with wisdom beyond his years. Beron should be proud but instead, his eyes narrow as he assesses the situation.

“Gain their trust so they remain loyal to you, High Lord,” Edmund, Beron’s chief advisor, agrees as he waves his hand, beckoning his cupbearer forward.

Eris’s eyes widen ever so slightly, lifting his gaze toward Edmund. It’s the first time the two have ever been in agreement. He then turns his head toward Edmund’s cupbearer, a spark of curiosity flashing in his amber eyes.

As the cupbearer delicately pours a substance, presumably more potent than wine given its acrid scent, Eris can’t help but wonder why Edmund subjects his own granddaughter to a servant role when she is beyond the age of marriage. Granted, Emilia is a bastard. But still his blood nonetheless. His only blood.

Edmund brings his cup to his lips and takes a swig. He sputters almost immediately, throwing his chalice to the floor and drawing everyone’s attention to him. The dark crimson liquid splatters onto the floor, staining the soft fabric of his granddaughter's dress. Emilia shrinks back, fear flashing across her features as Edmund shifts toward her with a scowl.

“This is not what I asked of you!” He seethes with furrowed eyebrows. “I asked for the russet elixir, not this.”

“I’m sorry, grandfather. I thought this was the russet elixir.”

Emilia drops her gaze, a frown tainting her soft features, as she presents the bottle of liquor to him. It is clearly labeled as crimson nectar. “You imbecile. Go back to your station,” Edmund orders hastily, no longer desiring a drink.

“Illiterate bastard,” Hunter mutters under his breath with a chuckle, elbowing Eris.

Eris does not humor his brother. Though his fingers tense around his own chalice, he maintains a stoic silence, his gaze following Emilia. She retreats to her designated place in the council chamber, head bowed low. Her silhouette merges seamlessly with the servants clustered around the table of refreshments.

“Let them starve.”

Eris’s gaze shifts back toward his father and he swears his heart skips a beat.

“But my High Lord–”

“I refuse to feed the mouths of potential traitors,” Beron interrupts his spymaster sharply yet his gaze is focused upon Eris, brown eyes shimmering with disappointment. “The seed for rebellion has already been planted. It does not matter if I send them sustenance or not, they may still revolt. I’ll turn the town of Mistwood into a lesson.”

Beron then rises to his feet, signaling that he will hear no more from his council for today. “Anyone who lends credence to this alleged Phoenix shall be branded as traitors and punished. No exceptions.”

Beron strides out of the room, the council trailing in his wake. Eris, however, lingers, reluctant to vacate his seat. He prods the inside of his cheek with his tongue, stomach filling with dread from the look Beron had given him before leaving. He sits there for what feels like an eternity but given the fact that some of his brothers remain, harassing Edmund’s poor granddaughter, it couldn’t have been for too long.

When Eris rises from his seat, he catches a glimpse of Oliver, his younger brother, trailing a hand a little too low down Emilia’s body. From where Eris stands, he could see Emilia’s every muscle tense under the unwanted touch and harsh words whispered into her ear. Yet, Emilia remains quiet, her gaze fixed forward, even as Oliver finally frees her of his torment.

Silver lines her dull brown eyes and Eris can’t help but pity the female. He knows the look on her face all too well. It's a reflection of the emotions he often carries within himself. Hatred. Fear. Anger.

The room is quiet, save for the measured cadence of Eris’s footsteps. They come to a stop right before Emilia, causing her brown eyes to widen in surprise. Still, she remains steadfast in avoiding eye contact with Eris.

“Lord Eris,” she addresses him, her voice a masterclass in practiced restraint, as though she has honed it over centuries of servitude.

“We should arrange for someone to teach you how to read.”

Emilia blinks, caught off guard and for a fleeting moment, vulnerability flickers in her dark eyes. It’s not the first time Eris has been kind yet she still can’t comprehend why he continues to express concern for her. She hesitates before regaining her composure and slowly lowers her gaze.

“Grandfather says reading will only taint the female’s mind and that I do not need to know how to read in order to fulfill my duty.”

“And what duty is that exactly?”

“I’m the last Pyralis female. I’m sure you can take a guess, my lord.”

Eris exhales heavily, as if he too was wearied by the harshness of her world. “Suit yourself then.”

For centuries, the Pyralis family stood as a formidable force, characterized by its size and strength. Even amidst the transformative shift in magical favor that propelled the Vanserra family to High Lordship, the Pyralis clan endured without faltering. True to their name, they rose from the ashes, mirroring the resilience of the Phoenix they were named after. They maintained their high status in politics, taking on the role as the Vanserra’s chief advisors. Speculation lingered that the only force capable of bringing down the Pyralis family was the family itself.

The Pyralis family's decline began long before Eris’s birth. Still, he couldn't help but reflect on the strange sight of witnessing such a once-mighty and expansive lineage reduced to a mere two living members.

It made him worry if the same grim fate would befall upon his own family.

“Mother’s tits, what happened to you?”

“Your brothers,” is all Emilia says followed by a huff, the small gust of frustration sending the dark red fringe framing her face tumbling forward like a curtain of shadows. Weariness etches across her features, shoulders slumping, allowing a glimpse beyond the facade she meticulously maintains.

Lucien furrows his brow in concern and gently reaches out to tuck the loose strand behind her ear. “You look like you’re in need of a pick me up,” he remarks, his russet eyes lighting up at the idea. “A little trip to Thornwood might lift your spirits.”

Emilia pauses, narrowing her eyes slightly. “I’m sure it’ll lift other things too.”

Lucien laughs, his lips twitching upwards into a grin. Though Thornwood sounds like a good idea, given the hard day she had, she recognizes why Lucien is more than eager to go. She knows him too well. As they step out of the forest house, he hooks his arm through hers and winnows them both to Thornwood before she could even question if it was safe to do so, given the current volatile state of the neighboring town, Mistwood.

Thornwood is a breath of fresh air.

Both Lucien and Emilia feel a sense of comfort as they fall into step beside each other. Lush orchards and vineyards surround the small town nestled in the countryside of Autumn, their branches heavy with golden and crimson fruits. They walk along the cobblestone pathways, leading to a central square where various vendors are selling goods. Residents, adorned in cozy layers to protect from the autumn winds, go about their daily routines with a sense of unhurried contentment.

An elderly female rests against the weathered water well, rattling a worn cup that holds a few gold marks toward any passersby. As Emilia walks by, the female’s eyes follow her and with a sudden urgency, she rattles her cup harsher.

“Something wicked this way comes,” she mutters, the words slipping from her cracked lips like an ominous whisper carried by the wind. “Something wicked this way comes…”

With a glare directed at the older female, Lucien steps around Emilia, shielding her from the female’s sharp gaze.

“Em!”

Emilia's head whips around, her guarded expression softening as her gaze fixes on a blonde figure drawing nearer with each passing second. Before she knows it, strong arms envelop her. Emilia finds herself wrapped in a comforting hug and returns the gesture.

"Hey, Jes," Emilia greets, the corners of her lips hinting at a rare smile.

"You haven’t come to visit in awhile. I was getting worried," Jesminda remarks, pulling away from the hug with a concern-laden expression.

Lucien, feeling neglected, huffs in mock offense. "What am I? Chopped liver?"

Jesminda giggles, but she redirects her attention to Lucien, throwing her arms around him. He responds with equal enthusiasm, pulling her close and twirling her around, evoking a delighted squeal that he silences with an affectionate kiss.

“Gross,” Emilia comments, a slight grimace crossing her features.

Jesminda, despite Lucien's protest, untangles herself from his embrace. "Never been in love before?"

Emilia's gaze shifts to where Lucien and Jesminda now hold hands. "No, and I don’t plan on it." She pauses, her eyes lingering on the intertwined couple before she adds, "It’s not worth the price.”

“You say that now–”

"Yeah, yeah," Emilia cuts off Lucien before he delves into the cliché notion of finding the right person to fall in love with. Blah, blah, blah. She slips her hand into her pockets, withdrawing a handful of goldmarks and tossing them toward Lucien, who effortlessly catches them. "Go fetch us some apple cider, please?"

Once Lucien is out of earshot, Emilia turns to Jesminda with a cautious look. "This is a dangerous game you're playing."

"I'm not scared," Jesminda replies, her eyes scanning the town square before she leans in closer to her friend. "Just like I'm not scared to stand with Saoirse."

Something flickers in Emilia's eyes, and with a soft smile, Jesminda adds, "I love him."

“He’s the High Lord’s son,” Emilia whispers a bit too harshly for even her own liking yet Jesminda remains unfazed by the reminder.

“One of many,” Jesminda simply points out. “I’m sure he could spare one.”

Emilia sighs. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t,” Jesminda promises and then winks at Emilia. “I’m good at sneaking around.”

Emilia watches Jesminda's determined expression, a mixture of worry and reluctant acceptance in her own gaze. It’s not that Emilia doubts Jesminda. Lucien and Jesminda have kept their relationship secret for many years. Albeit, they often used Emilia as the perfect excuse to venture off together such as Lucien planned to do so tonight.

But, for Emilia, it's the haunting memory of past losses that casts a shadow over her protective instincts. She can't help but feel an innate need to protect her cherished friend, especially given the fact that she was the one who introduced Lucien to her. If something happened to Jesminda, it would be her fault.

Before Emilia discovered the truth of her heritage and was taken in by her father, it was Jesminda's family who she lived with. They plucked her from the harsh streets and took her in as if she was one of their own. A stark contrast to the way her blood family welcomed her. She wasn’t allowed to visit them after she moved into her father’s estate but now that she lived in the Forest house with her grandfather, it was easier to sneak off to visit them.

Lucien reappears, bearing three mugs of hot apple cider that smell like heaven. Emilia happily takes hers, savoring the steaming warmth that envelops her as she takes a measured sip.

“I’m going to find Brienne,” Emilia says and then she flashes the two a pointed look, dark eyes lingering on Lucien for a moment longer. “We can’t stay out too late tonight unless we want to raise concern.”

Beron's eyes were deep pools of darkness, simmering with a livid intensity that mirrored the turmoil within the realm. His hands were clasped behind his back. He stood by the window, an emblem of brooding power, his gaze following the departure of his best men on horseback toward Mistwood.

"There's a mole in this court," Beron declares, his voice cutting through the silence, and he turns abruptly to face Edmund. “And I won’t rest until I have their head on a spike.”

Edmund leans forward, concern etching lines onto his wearied features. "Do you have any suspects?"

"I have a few," Beron responds, his gaze piercing into the very soul of his chief advisor.

Edmund's eyes widen in disbelief and he shifts forward in his seat. "Are you accusing me, my High Lord?"

"Given your family history, I'd be a fool not to suspect you. The phoenix is your family's sigil."

"I have no desire for a coup d'état," Edmund retorts, a humorless laugh escaping him as he averts his gaze. His laugh morphs into a cough, eyebrows furrowing in pain as he brings a handkerchief to his mouth. Slowly, he lifts his eyes to meet Beron's. "What must I do to prove my loyalty to you?"

Before Beron could answer, the door to Edmund’s room opens. Emilia slips in and at the sight of the High Lord, a visible shiver runs through her, causing her to instinctively shrink back. With a harsh swallow, she bows her head in respect and then turns to address the older male.

“You called for me, grandfather?”

“You were out late last night,” Edmund glares at the younger female. “Again.”

“Let’s finish our conversation later this afternoon in my study.” Beron says and without acknowledging Emilia’s presence, he gracefully exits the room.

“I’m sorry, I was–”

“You went to go visit them, didn’t you?” Edmund interrupts sharply and when Emilia lowers her head, he rises from his seat. “I am your family. Your only family.”

“You are forbidden to go to Thornwood from now on.”

“But grandfather–”

“Have you not heard?” Edmund raises his voice. “The High Lord has sent his best guards to Mistwood to obliterate the growing threats and Thornwood is sure to follow.” His voice falters as he falls into another fit of coughing.

“You will stay here, where you are safe,” he manages to wheeze as he slumps back into his seat.

“Are you alright?” Emilia gasps out in horror.

She rushes to her grandfather, falling to her knees beside him. He brings his handkerchief once more to cover his cough. “I’m fine,” he huffs out breathlessly.

When his hand drops to his side and head falls back in exhaustion, Emilia notices the dark red stain on the light fabric. The sight pleases her more than it should and with his eyes closed, Emilia allows her mask to fall.

A faint smirk taints her lips and once again, there's that flicker of fiery malevolence in her eyes. Edmund Pyralis is not fine.

He's dying...and the Vanserras are next.

A couple of weeks later...

Mistwood is now nothing but ash.

Though the townspeople fought with heart and might, they were no match for the High Lord’s soldiers who had trained for centuries. Beron gave strict orders for no survivors to be left behind as he’s done so many times before. It’s not the first time there’s been uprisings and rebellions and it certainly won’t be the last. Those disloyal to him may win battles here and there but Beron will always win the war.

His soldiers did not return this time. Instead, Beron ordered them to disperse into neighboring towns along the countryside and act as peacekeepers. However, they ushered in anything but tranquility to the towns they’ve forcefully settled into.

All was well. There was no longer talk about protests or potential uprisings. No more whispers about the Phoenix. What a foolish hope that had been.

Beron sighs as he enters his bath chambers. The anticipation of relief courses through him as he closes his eyes, immersing himself in the cocoon of steaming warmth that envelops the air. His tired muscles, worn from the weight of responsibility, already yearn for the comforting touch of the hot water against his skin.

Upon opening his eyes, however, the tranquility he sought is shattered. Tension grips his muscles even tighter as his gaze falls upon an unsettling sight. There, floating ominously in the bathwater, is a single red chrysanthemum. The vibrant hue seems to mock him, triggering a surge of pain that stabs sharply through his chest. He doesn’t dare think of her name, forcing images of her back into the corner of his mind he had shoved her into.

He plucks the flower out and flames lick at his fingertips. They burn through the flower with ease, reducing it to a small pile of ashes onto the floor. He uses his magic to dispose of it. He shakes off the unsettling feeling threatening to seep in and settles into the bath instead. He’d deal with the servants who prepared his bath first thing tomorrow.

The following morning, just as he’s about to call for his servants, he’s met with an even more appalling sight.

His eyes widen as he steps out onto his balcony. There’s a sea of red chrysanthemums blanketing the palace grounds, their vibrant petals ablaze in the early light. A small piece of paper floats above him, calling his name in a sinister whisper. He reluctantly takes it, unfolding it.

Burn us and we shall simply rise again from the ashes.

-The Phoenix

It's instinctive. The way he sets the paper ablaze in his grasp. As the last ember of paper dissipates, the sea of red flowers catches fire as if on cue. Beron watches in astonishment as the flowers transform into ashes, only to burst into flames once more. The flames intensify, swirling together in mesmerizing patterns, shaping an unmistakable silhouette. A phoenix.

A shiver races down his spine.

There’s only one person he knew who loved red chrysanthemums. Desperate for an answer, he reaches out to the threads of fate that he had severed. They hang loosely but they’re still there. Only this time, he feels nothing. Absolutely nothing.

A profound emptiness washes over him, rendering him numb. She’s dead. He should not be surprised. Afterall, he had ordered it.

It’s as if the Cauldron, offended by his defiance of its predestined connection, has forsaken him upon opening his side of the bond. The bond he denied and closed off for centuries. His body weakens, forcing him to fall onto his knees.

Silver lines his brown eyes. His eyes that were once dull are now lively with pure grief and heartache. His hands grasp at his chest as if they could close the gaping hole she left behind. It’s useless.

The memories of her, his mate, begin to rise just as the ashes of the red chrysanthemums did. He can see her smiling at him in a way he does not deserve. He can hear her calling his name in a hushed whisper that burns into his skin. More and more memories of her infiltrate his mind, tormenting him in the worst ways imaginable.

“Beron.”

“Beron,” the voice repeats again and it takes him a while to register that the voice is not his mate’s but his wife’s. “What is going on?”

Beron is surprised at the concern laced into her tone. He grasps onto this feeling, pulling himself out of the depth of the own hell he created. The bond in his chest slowly closes once more. His breath begins to steady and though shaky, he rises to his feet again.

“I need to find her,” is all he says as he walks past his wife.

Lady Aurelia blinks, eyebrows knitting together. “Find who?”

Beron does not answer her. He strides further into their room and toward the area where he keeps his sword. He secures it to his waistband, determined to never go out without it from now on.

Not when his daughter, thought to be lost to the shadows, was alive. Not when she is the one who stands at the helm of the rebellions that echo through the Autumn Court. And for the first time in centuries, a spark of fear ignites within him.

How is he supposed to fight an enemy that prospers when burned to the ground?

a/n: I feel like I suck at writing about politics/conflict that isn't romance related so I hope this came out okay and not confusing. More will info will be given in the next parts.

It feels like I've read ACOTAR ages ago so I've forgotten some details and am going off of what I find on reddit/ACOTAR wiki so if I happen to make a mistake in terms of canon things, let me know. Also, I was too lazy to find new names for some of Eris's brothers so I'm reusing the ones I used in my Like An Angel series. I honestly can't wait until Az shows up but it will be 2-3 parts until then. For now, you get a lot of foreshadowing (:

tagging: @mybestfriendmademe @waytoomanyteenagefeels @janebirkln, @acourtofbatboydreams

(it's been awhile since I updated so I tagged some of y'all, just in case y'all were interested in reading more. Please let me know if you'd like to remain on the tag list, no worries if not (: Or if you'd like to be added)

#acotar imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar x oc #acotar fanfic #azriel x oc #vanserra oc #eris vanserra x oc #gem

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readychilledwine · 3 months

Text

Kissed by Fire pt 2

Warnings - talks of sex work, beron, implied abuse, Lucien getting to be the smartest, person in a room.

Series Masterlist Eris Masterlist Master Masterlist

Eris sat at a silent family breakfast. Per tradition, no one spoke. No one had spoken at breakfast since Lucien's exile.

Beron no longer allowed casual conversation between his sons. No discussion of how their days were laid out, of who was covering which territory for the day, of how they slept.

Beron no longer allowed brotherhood. At least, not in front of him.

The note casually passed under the table started at their mother. He soft elegant script gracing the page. It had gone to the now youngest Hermes, his red hair was shaved on the right side with an intricate pattern and then curled on the top. He showed no reaction on his face before waiting for the next opportunity of Beron Speaking down to a servant over the quality of something she had no control over to pass it to Ares. The smug idiot also controlled his face as he continued eating and scratched his facial stubble that he had allowed to grow for much too long. He then waited for Beron to look away, passing the note to the second oldest whom Eris immediately shot a look. Apollo had always been the diplomatic one, the scholar interested in music and arts much more than any throne. He played his part well, but the male was easy to read. He kept his face cold and indifferent, waiting for the chance to pass the note To Eris.

Eris was the riskiest pass. He was constantly sitting at his father's right hand. A testament to his efforts and the cruelty he'd inflicted for the sake of his mother, his brothers, himself.

Lunch and tea at noon? Your father is going to the Winter Borders Today.

It wasn't even a question in Eris's mind. His mother could ask him to carve his own heart out and he would say yes.

Walking alongside Beron was something Eris longed to end. He always felt an almost slime growing on him when he had to. He listened carefully as Beron's spymaster, an undereducated ruddy looking male who hardly could gather anything worth knowing, handed him a folder.

“Rumor has it the King of Hybern got a hold of the 3 older Archeron sisters and threw them in the Cauldron,” he paused as Beron did. A look of disbelief flashes in his father's eyes as he opens the Report. “All three of them emerged fae.”

“And where did this rumor come from?”

The male looked at Beron, a small smirk forming, “Ianthe. She's currently in Spring with the curse breaker. Tamlin and the boy witnessed the whole thing.” The simple mention of Lucien had Eris looking up. “One of the sisters is evidently his mate.”

Chill set over Eris at that thought. It settled when he looked at his father's face. In place of the normally stone cold mask was a smile, not one of joy or happiness. One that promised if he ever got his hands on that poor girl, she would suffer, just so Lucien did. Just so his mother did. “Find out if this is accurate and let Eris know as soon as possible. Then find out which sister.” Beron slapped the report on Eris's chest. “Ensure your mother does not learn of this until it is convenient for me.”

Eris went to the tearoom his mother and brothers sat in, stress lining his every muscle like a heavy coat as he did. “I have news,” he watched as they all sighed heavily. “Lucien has a mate,” he threw the papers down. “I am guessing these three are why Azriel came to me a few weeks ago.”

Andromeda held the papers tight, reading each line over and over. “This changes things,” her voice was soft, breaking slightly at what this could mean. “You four need to be ready.”

Hermes leaned back, nodding as he did.

Ares took the reports next, Studying them hard. “You said the shadowsinger made you a deal right? Can you use it to force Rhysand into a bargain?”

Apollo sighed heavily, having dealt with Rhysand the most in the 50 years they were all trapped together. “Rhysand isn't going to bargain for his assistance unless his family is at risk. That's his sole motivation in his world. Not his court. Not himself. His family.”

“We need more,” Eris concluded. “Helion might not be enough. Tamlin is an unstable support. Kal is unknown. Thesan is going to hand his support on a platter just because he hates Beron. Rhysand-”

“Has no hound in the race,” his mother finished with a distant look over her shoulder towards the window. Towards the sunlight she could never fully bathe herself in. “Find one.”

Amelia hated Rhysand. She leaned across a table from him, blinking at him like he was an absolute idiot. “If I could access it, I could learn to control it, Rhysand.”

The High Lord sighed. “And when you open a gate to Mother knows where, Welcoming Mother knows what into my court and home, what then Amelia?”

It had taken Amren the better part of three weeks. Three long weeks Amelia had spent on constant faebane.

She hardly ate anymore, not that she really was before.

All glow and color had left her skin, leaving her pale and lifeless.

Her eyes constantly held dark circles from dreamless sleep.

Rhysand saw the parallel. He was not foolish or blind. It ate at him, nagging loudly in the back of his mind and pounding over and over again whenever he'd shut his eyes.

He kept lying to himself, pretending it was for Amelia's own good.

There had not been a worldwalker since Amren first appeared. And even those thousands of years ago, the walkers were rumors. Ghosts in the wind passed down by busy body gossips who believe they possibly saw a gate open and close.

“And what will you do if I just refuse to take it?”

Rhys looked up at Amelia, a sympathetic glaze to his eyes as he began to hold her mind and force her to drink the tainted wine. “It wouldn't matter,” his voice was flat. “I am sorry Amelia, but until we find out more, this is what I have to do to keep you safe.”

“Safe,” she whispered the word back like it was poisoned. “You all promised us that word before and failed,” she stood ignoring the look of pain that flashed on his face, on Cassian's, on Azriel's. “Hopefully you fail this time too.” She left the room, slamming the door so hard the frames shook.

Amelia walked down the hall, shutting her door Behind her and curled into her blanket, smiling at the familiar scent that screamed Autumn.

Amelia pulled out the map of Pryithian She had ripped out of a book. Studying it hard one more time.

She'd make it out of this damned court.

Even if she had to burn it to the ground to do so.

Lucien read the note over and over again. It had come to him through the hearth. It smelled of roasted chestnuts and a crackling fire.

He wished he could bask in it. He wished he could bottle up the scent and bathe in it, take comfort in it during nights when his dreams plagued him.

The sense of security the scent brought him was almost mocking as he read his mother's handwriting over and over.

“Beron knows. He knows about your mate. Hide her. Run away with her.”

Lucien sat on his bed, sending a silent prayer to the Cauldron. He had planned on running with Feyre anyways. He had been trying to find a way out for them for a week now, but the damn twins went everywhere with them.

Lucien hid the note as his door opened without a knock, “What do you want, Ianthe?”

“There's something in the forest. Tamlin told me to take you to look at it.”

Several days had passed since Amelia and Rhys fought. They had only spoken in passing, the female holding her head high and refusing to apologize. The high lord returned the sentiment. He had started having to have Azriel or Cassian watch her drink the tea, or else she would dump it according to the twins.

She had lost weight. Way too much weight. Her and Elain were walking skeletons. Rhys entered Amelia's room, heart falling at the sight of each bone visible in her back. “Feyre has escaped Spring. Lucien is coming with her.”

Amelia nodded. “Elain's mate. How does your dear Shadowsinger feel about that?”

Her bored tone had Rhys immediately irritated. “Do you not care that your youngest sister is currently on the run?”

She raised a brow, crossing her arms over the sweater that was now much too large for her. “I trust Feyre's abilities to get herself out of anything she walks into. I've had no choice but to do that for years,” she moved towards the window. “You do not know everything, Rhysand, you do not know the extent of my care nor the sacrifice I made.”

He sat in the chair he always took, “Because you refuse to tell me, Amelia. You refuse to tell me what oh so wonderful sacrifice you made while your younger sisters were cold and starving.”

Her mind flashed to that cabin, chopping wood for hours straight, stacking it nicely. To prepare them breakfast and leaving it to warm over a fire. Just for her to leave the house without eating and head to the pleasure house.

She'd leave before they woke, and return long after they slept.

Each night she'd hide money in Feyre's bags. Enough to get them food for the next week, if her younger Sister didn't decide to treat herself to unnecessary paints and brushes, then tuck the rest into another bag.

A bag she hoped to eventually gain enough gold stashed inside of to buy them a home.

One that wasn't one windstorm from falling apart.

“How long did you work there,” his voice broke. “How little were you paid to lay there.”

Amelia's father had lost and gambled away their wealth when Amelia was 15. “The second father was hunted down, so I went there. I was 15. I worked there long after that raging fluff ball decided we were his charity case. That's how Jurian found me. He bought me for the night using enough money that they'd turn a blind eye to whatever he wanted to do to me. The house took 90% of my Earnings. 20% would go towards paying off my debt to them so I could be free. They pocketed the rest. I'd take home a measly 10%.”

She could see the disgust washing over him. “How much was an hour with you?”

She shrugged, "Depended on what he wanted to do. I had a male pay 30 gold to beat me once. I had a male pay 50 to do things I never want to speak about again.”

Rhys nodded. “Why don't they know?”

“Because High Lord, nothing says hold on to your hopes like finding out your sister fucks for coin.”

She watched Rhysand get a distant look in his eyes, “I have to go. She's here.” Amelia nodded. “I will give her your love, even if you won't ask me to.”

She paused, looking at him in shock. He moved to her, kissing her temple softly. “No one will ever touch you without your consent again. I promise. Just give me time for the rest. We are still searching.”

Something soft was in his eyes. Something akin to care. To love.

It made Amelia feel bile set in her stomach followed by guilt.

Despite her anger and insults, he was trying.

And maybe, she should try too.

Lucien sat on the couch across from the oldest Archeron sister. He was trying to process her outfit. “Where did you get that sweater?” His brother's sweater, Lucien didn't say the words after a look from Azriel and Cassian told him not to.

“Az brought it to me,” Lucien hummed at her response.

They were studying each other. Trying to figure out each other's ticks like it was their passion project in court training. “Why do you smell like faebane?”

She countered immediately, “Why do YOU smell like faebane?”

“Poisoned by the same whore of a priestess who sold you out,” Lucien leaned back, raising and nodding for her explanation.

“Being forced to take it because that whore of a priestess had me thrown into an oversized Cauldron and it did something to me.”

“Enough,” Azriel said softly. “This conversation is done.”

“What do you mean?” Lucien pushed despite the warning.

“I can see strings,” Amelia said softly. “They're all different. Different colors, smells, materials. Some sparkle like what they're connected to is active and alive. Some are duller like light can't fully reach the end I can see.”

Lucien felt his face dropping, unable to school a reaction due to his exhaustion. “And these strings, when you touch them, can you hear anything? See anything?”

She nodded. “Between teas when they come back, I can reach them. One was dark, cold, when I touched it I heard a woman's voice. It sounded like someone was singing a dark song as she spoke in a language I didn't understand. Another time there was a string that almost seemed to glow. I could hear laughter, strange music, another language I didn't know.”

The three males shared a look. This was more information than they had gotten from her in a month, "Amelia, the night you followed me, did you pull one of the strings?”

She looked to Azriel, blue eyes sad. “In my sleep, yes. It smelled like fire and apples,” Lucien's stomach fell. “I was drawn to whoever you were speaking with. Like their voice was enough to keep me warm. Like they'd be enough to keep me safe.”

Azriel felt his face pale when she turned away and stood to leave the room.

“I think I already know the answer, but who were you with?”

Cassian sighed, sitting down. “He went to Eris. To get that sweater and a blanket in hopes he would enchant them. Amelia can't hold warmth since the Cauldron.”

“Has she met him?” They shook their heads. “I'd keep her away from him.” Azriel knew what Lucien was suggesting and voiced soft agreement. “Beron can't get his hands on a Realm Walker. It'd be too dangerous for every court and world she got him to.”

Lucien sipped the tea he had staring at the fire. "You should also check resources from Vallahan instead of here. The last recorded Realm Walker was born and trained there. Helion would be able to get his hands on some of their notes."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes

Kissed by Fire Taglist:

@justdreamstars @coralseacourt @kemillyfreitas @impossibelle @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @believinghurts

#kissedbyfire #eris acotar #eris x oc #eris fic #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra fic #pro eris #pro eris vanserra #eris vandaddy #acotar #eris vanserra #eris vanserra acotar

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ellievickstar · 5 months

Text

Undeserving

A/N: This took me way too long to write- I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is Part 2 of Deserving, but it can be read as a standalone. This was written as a more self-indulgent fic and I might write an alternative part 2 that is sadder if you guys really want. Love you all <3

Summary: After years, you are happy, you have moved on. But what about the other half that you have abandoned? What about tthe one who hurt you most when all you needed was his help?

Request: N/A

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (Past), Eris Vanserra x Reader (Current)

Warnings: Angst (as usual), being married to Eris (ig for some of y'all that's an ick), mentions of Beron (bleh), really nothing else tbh please tell me if there is anything i should add.

~*~*~*~*~

"How have you been?" The High Lady of the Night Court sat opposite to you as you sipped at the tea that your dearest husband had provided. It had been over five years since you had left the Nigh Court, over ten years that you decided to find new purpose here. In Autumn Court. After Beron had died and Eris Vanserra had been announced as the new High Lord, you had originally gone over as an ambassador with Lucien, but after a few interactions with the now Autumn High Lord you had decided to stay. And now you were married.

"I’ve been well Feyre. Eris still treats me like a queen and I am always taken care of, he insists I always rest even though I do want to contribute and work, though he does relent on letting me participate in political meetings and interacting with the larger part of the court. He thinks they like me more than they like him," You smiled warmly as you thought of your relationship with the High Lord of the Night Court. Although it hadn’t been officially announced yet, due to the fact that Eris had to get rid of a few corrupt lords in who had been loyal to only Beron, you had overheard Eris discussing something with Lucien that you had not meant to find out.

~*~*~*~*~

It was midnight and you had awoken to an empty bed, still warm, meaning that Eris had not left too long ago, but not warm enough without his presence next to you. You stumbled down the great halls of the Forest House, finally coming across a room where a dim light shined through a slightly opened door, but as you were about to enter, you stopped and strained your ears to listen to the conversation that was happening inside.

You picked up on Lucien’s voice first, ensuring that you remained perfectly still and held your breathe. "You are being ridiculous of course she would say yes. You’ve planned all this so that you can make this day special for her, why are you still fretting?" Your lovers panic was palpable in his tone, "What if she hates it? What if she hates everything and decides to leave me? Oh gosh what if she leaves me?"

A chuckle escaped from Lucien and you felt movement and what seemed like pacing footsteps.

"I really love her, brother. She is the love of my life and I feel like I’ve waited for her since the beginning of my existence, but what if she hates what I am planning to do? Or what if I end up overwhelming her and she decides to reject me?" Panic. Eris was in a complete state of panic. The usually calm, indifferent and cold heir was panicking. Curiosity piqued in you as you remained outside the door of the study. "I’m sure she will agree, in the years you have been together all she’s yearned for is a life with you. She will be more than happy to agree for you to make her High Lady."

~*~*~*~*~

And so you were giddily awaiting the day that Eris had planned. You were careful in hiding that you knew, ensuring that he would not suspect anything. Smiling as you recalled the memory fondly, your attention was stolen by the doors off the sitting room opened, flaming red hair peaking through the doorway as it revealed your grinning husband.

"Eris!" You greeted as you saw Feyre’s lips curve into a slight smile, one she hid behind her teacup as your lover approached you, lips brushing against your forehead as he nodded Feyre’s way, a polite acknowledgment of her presence. "Am I interrupting, Little Fox?" He murmured and as you shook your head he slipped you a small piece of paper before bidding his farewell. Strange, but perhaps he didn’t wish to share whatever information was on the paper to Feyre. Understandable, seeing as the night court still didn’t entirely trust Eris.

Peering at the paper, you smiled at the words.

Nothing important, Little Fox. Was just missing you. See you later at dinner with the rest of the Night Court and Lucian.

Though Eris would never admit it he was clingy at heart, and you found it ever so endearing. Truly, it was adorable seeing the High Lord of Autumn, someone who had been deemed cold and cruel by the entirety of Prythian, decide to sulk at the absence of his one and only lover.

Sighing, you folded the paper and used your magic to winnow it to your room, continuing your conversation with your best friend without a hitch, gossiping about court relations and other subjects that came to mind.

~*~*~*~*~

Laughter roared through the dining room as Cassian pounded his fist against the table. Among everyone in the inner circle, Cassian had been the quickest to get used to Eris, but that was not before Mor and Eris made up and Eris provided a real explanation of why he had left her in the woods all those years ago, even offering to provide his own memories and thoughts to Rhys to prove himself. It was all so you did not have to separate yourself from your family, and he had done it only for you. Not that you had asked him to. You would have never asked him to be so vulnerable with people he might be uncomfortable with.

A part of you couldn’t help but notice Azriel staring at you, but you chose to ignore him. He had made his choice about you a long time ago, it did not matter if he regretted it now.

But the ruckus died in the dining table as Eris cleared his throat.

Looking around, you saw Rhys’s eyes seemed to be alight in anticipation and Lucian seemed to sit straighter in his chair as Eris stood, addressing your family.

"I’m sure you understand why I’ve chosen our monthly gathering to finally announce this. But it’s not really an announcement, yet." His eyes travelled across the room before finally landing on you. "Throughout the past few months I’m sure some of you know that I have been agonising how to do this properly, and some of you have even personally had a hand in helping me to try and plan something that would fit the best into Y/N’s lovely taste, and that’s when i realised that I didn’t need anything big or extravagant, she would have just wanted you all here, to share this." He paused as he knelt before you, holding your hands to his.

"I know this is a big thing to ask, and I understand if you need time, heck some of your family members may even discourage you from saying yes." He grinned nervously. "But I wanted to ask you now. Y/N will you do me the honor of becoming my high lady and binding my life to yours for the rest of my life? Because if one day you decide to leave this land, I don’t want to be far behind."

Inhaling deeply, he continued, "I love you, I know for a fact I love you and that I have loved you since you decided to show up to my court with my brother, grinning and laughing like fools. I have loved you ever since you had the defiance to stand up to my cold mask and tell me I could "shove that fake cold demeanor up my ass or screw off". I have loved you shamelessly and endlessly ever since you first decided to call me your own. Please, be my High Lady, let me dedicate my life to yours, to whatever end."

Tears filled your eyes as you nodded repeatedly, blubbering out a soft ‘of course’ as you flung yourself into Eris’s arms. Your family members all burst into cheers, Cassian taking you from your husband to swing you around and Feyre, Nesta and Elain crowding around you in excitement to gush over the news. This was exactly what you would have wanted. Nothing big or fancy, just a moment to share together, as a family.

That’s when you felt a tendril sneak up your arm, causing you to look back into where the shadow singer was now tucked away into a corner, he beckoned you to follow him and as you cast a look to Eris, he smiled softly and mouthed ‘i trust you’ before winking and returning to his conversation with Lucian.

You followed Azriel to a balcony just outside the dining hall, and he paused for a few seconds facing away from you, before his low, raspy voice rang out.

"Why him?"

You were taken aback. But you rolled your eyes, Azriel had pulled this same shit at your wedding.

"Don’t do this Azriel," You warned.

The shadow singer turned to you and under his gaze you froze at his rage.

"He doesn’t deserve you."

"And you think you do!" You scoffed, "I needed you, all those years ago I needed you. Not just your pathetic words that you would be there for me no matter what when it came to a time I needed you to choose me you did the exact opposite. For months I was broken. I believed that I didn’t deserve love if my own mate couldn’t bring himself to love me. You have no idea what it was like watching you love someone else. You have no right to tell me who deserves me and who doesn’t. You gave that up a long time ago so don’t even try."

Silence was all that followed and as you were about to return to the male who actually loved you, Azriel spoke.

"I’m sorry," And now with your back away from him you were reminded of all those years ago when you walked away from a situation that made you feel undeserving of love.

"I know," You said softly, your words almost unable to reach his ears, "But that’s not enough, Azriel. Being sorry has never been enough for me to stay with you. Let me go, please. You deserve love to. Please stop chasing after people you can’t have because that will be your undoing."

But as you left and Azriel was alone on the balcony, he tipped his head and whispered to the stars.

"It already is."

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Sorry if the story isn't flowing that well haha. I am working on other stuff (planning and procrastinating is more accurate) but rn I am on school holidays so I will be writing a little more. Love you all see you next time <3

taglist for azriel: @positivewitch

#acotar #acotar fandom #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x oc #eris acotar #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fluff

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