#would she turn to that eris proposal again

[heyluuu]

you know what i think would be such an interesting idea and take on that shackled scene? if cassian's outburst, saying he didn't choose to be shackled to nesta, caused the bond to break. that he inadvertently broke the bond when he, and everyone, was worried and convinced she would.

it'd be interesting to see what would happen next. would cassian still love her? try to rebuild the bond? would he fall into despair and guilt?

[queenofterrasen418]

Cruel Fates (Part 3)

Pairing: Azriel x f!Reader, little Eris x f!Reader

Summary: Azriel is your mate but only you know it. You are very aware that he has eyes for someone else and thus you decide not to hide it forever. After all, what could go wrong right?

Warnings: Angst, again.

3.1K words

A/N: Thank you @vanserrasimp for your ideas!!!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

“Do you want some more water?” Feyre asked softly, her brows knitted with concern. You shook your head slowly, your gaze lost in the shadows of Rhys’s study, overwhelmed by the storm of thoughts in your mind.

“What happened, Y/N?” Rhys’s voice was gentle, but his eyes were intense, probing. They sat across from you like worried parents, and you sighed, lifting your eyes to meet theirs. Slowly, you recounted the meeting with Eris.

“Beron and a human queen?” Feyre repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“He spoke true. I saw their correspondences with my own eyes,” you replied, the memory still fresh and unsettling.

“So he wants to join forces with us so he can rule,” Rhys mused, the wheels already turning in his mind.

 “And he proposed a marriage alliance between us.” You finished his sentence.

Their eyes widened, and Rhys gestured for you to continue.

“He said our powers together would be formidable and the alliance would be very convenient. I told him I’d consider it.”

“Are you insane?” Feyre frowned, disbelief colouring her tone. “Why would you even think about it?”

“Because he had a point,” you answered, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “It would benefit both courts, and before you question his sincerity, let me assure you, he was.”

You turned to Rhys, searching for his reaction. He simply asked, “What did Azriel say?”

“That’s where things got messy,” you admitted, recounting Azriel’s outburst and Eris’s proposal. When Azriel brought up the mating bond, it made you snap.

Rhys’s brow furrowed as you spoke, a knowing look passing between you.

Feyre noticed his reaction and asked, “What am I missing?”

He shrugged in an ‘ask her’ manner.

“Azriel is my mate.”

“WHAT!?” Feyre’s eyes widened in shock.

“I’ve known for a few months. I didn’t want to tell him, considering everything with his love life.”

“And now she downright denied that she has a mate,” Rhys concluded, shaking his head slightly.

Feyre buried her head in her palms for a few moments before looking back at you with a mix of disbelief and sympathy. “You lied to him.”

“I didn’t plan to,” you said, frustration lacing your words. “I’m not sure what came over me.” Even as you tried to defend your actions, you knew you had messed up.

Rhys, who had been silent, suddenly perked up. “He knows!”

“Huh?” Blood drained from your face.

“He brought up the mating bond and was against even the idea of a marriage with Eris. He knows you're his mate.”

“He said he cares because I’m important to you, and he hates Eris on a normal day, let alone when he asked for my hand.”

“Fine, but how will you argue with him bringing up the bond point?” Rhys pressed.

“I don’t know. Maybe he assumed I’d have a mate too, considering the rest of my sisters do?”

Rhys thought about it for a while and shook his head. “I still feel like he’s aware of his mating bond, too. He probably didn’t tell you yet.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “I have legitimate reasons for not telling him. What does he have?”

“And what are those reasons exactly?” Feyre inquired curiously.

“One, he is in love with Elain, and she is also in love with him. Everyone knows that. Second, the mating bond is forever. It is permanent and painful. I have seen people fall in love easily and fall out just as easily. If ‘love’ can’t get through a mortal lifespan, how can it withstand an immortal one? Accepting the mating bond will only lead to pain, one way or the other.”

Feyre’s eyes narrowed while Rhys’s were filled with pity. You knew your views on love were not popular. You weren’t a pessimist, just someone who saw the world as it was. You wanted to believe in love so badly, but your past had taught you better. Rejecting the mating bond was far less painful than getting rejected.

After a few beats of silence, Feyre spoke in a haunted whisper, “I truly am sorry for you, sister. Whatever pain you’re trying to avoid will come no matter what. But when it does, don’t blame the bond. Blame yourself.”

Azriel

To say Azriel was confused was an understatement. He had never really understood Y/N, not that he'd ever made much of an effort to, but now he desperately wished he had. He had always thought of her as smart and careful, but not reckless. A child would know Eris was bad news. What was she thinking when she said she’d consider his proposal? Azriel was not a male to lose his temper, but she made him go feral. Ever since Y/N winnowed out of that room, her words constantly echoed in his mind. She asked him why he cared, and he did not know. He simply did, right? And what did she mean by “I don’t have a mate”? Did she just assume she didn’t, or did her mate die? Why was Y/N so furious at him?

He needed answers, and he knew who had them: Rhys. Which is exactly why he stood in front of his high lord on the balcony of the River House.

“Ask her, Az,” was the only response he got from him.

“Uh, why didn’t I think of that? Maybe because she asked me to stay out of her life?” Azriel said in a dry tone.

Rhys sighed. “It’s not my story to tell, assuming there is a story.”

“There is.”

“Then ask Y/N.” Rhys shrugged. “Or don’t.”

The spymaster could not remember when was the last time he was this crazed out. He was well aware of how unreasonable his reaction to this whole show was, but he couldn’t help himself when he asked, “How could you let her marry Eris?”

Rhys gave him a pointed look, his eyebrows raised. “One, she hasn’t decided yet, and two, no one lets Y/N do anything, let alone me.”

Azriel shook his head, at himself for his poor wording and at Y/N for her poor decision-making.

“She’s new to all this. Maybe she doesn’t know how Eris is.”

“She says Eris spoke true, and I believe her. Even a mind reader can be fooled when you practice enough, but you can’t fool her powers. Nothing escapes her, Az.”

True, very, very, very true. Azriel knew it, and yet he couldn’t accept it.

It was when his brother asked, “Why are you so bothered by it?” that he realized he didn’t fucking know. 

Why was he bothered by it? Why did he care? Why?

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t.”

“Hmm.”

“What does that mean?” His eyes narrowed at his high lord.

“Nothing. Just speak with her? Maybe you’ll know.” Cauldron, he wished it was that easy. Y/N was a mystery to him, a stranger. It didn’t feel right to ask her. He wished he knew her well like Rhys and Cass do. The only thing he knew was that she was powerful and dangerous.

“She might kill me.”

Rhys laughed at that. “Then give her some time.”

A whisper of a shadow brushed his ear. But you also know she is loved, how your family cherishes her.

Y/N

You walked through the corridors of the River House, your mind a whirlwind of confusion after your conversation with Rhys and Feyre. Your decision to keep your bond with Azriel a secret weighed heavily on you, but the thought of facing him—and the inevitable pain it would bring—was even more daunting. And then there was Eris. He occupied your thoughts equally, but you welcomed it; he was a very pleasant distraction, but the thought of Azriel interfered there too. Why was he so against Eris? Was Rhys right? Did he know about the bond? As your head swarmed with even more questions, you decided you needed some quiet, some space, a moment to breathe and process everything, away from bonds, decisions, and the pressure of court politics.

As you turned a corner, you heard soft voices coming from the garden. Curiosity got the better of you, and you slowed your pace, your footsteps quiet on the stone floor like a wraith. Peering through the open archway, you saw Azriel and Elain standing amidst the blooming roses, their figures bathed in the golden glow of the afternoon sun. 

Wonderful, you thought to yourself, this is exactly what I needed right now.

You knew you had to get out of there; witnessing whatever was going on between them was a terrible idea, but you found your feet stubbornly rooted to the ground.

Azriel's back was to you, his wings slightly drooped as he spoke to Elain. You couldn't make out their words at first, but the tender expression on Elain's face and the way she gently touched his arm spoke volumes. A pang of something sharp and bitter twisted in your chest, a feeling you couldn't quite name or rather refused to, but you recognized it all the same.

Azriel looked at Elain like she was the sun, the light to his shadows, his eyes filled with an emotion that you deep down wished was directed at you, to feel the warmth and certainty of it. But another part of you recoiled, reminding yourself of the pain that love could bring, the scars it could leave behind.

Thanks to your fae ears, Elain's voice carried over the breeze, soft and melodic. "Azriel, you deserve to be happy. To find someone who truly sees you."

Azriel nodded, a faint, wistful smile touching his lips. "I thought...maybe I could be that person for you, Elain. Maybe we could be right for each other."

Your heart clenched at his admission. Leave, Y/N, leave, your brain urged, but you didn’t. Despite everything, it was clear that Azriel's heart leaned toward Elain, and he was still chasing the idea of love he believed they could have. Yet, as you watched, you noticed something in Elain's eyes—sympathy. She seemed to understand Azriel's confusion.

Elain gave him a gentle smile, her eyes kind yet firm. "Azriel, you've been a wonderful friend. But you need to be honest with yourself about what you truly want."

He nodded, though his expression remained troubled. "I just want to do what's right. I pined for Mor, but that was just a wishful dream, and then you came. All signs pointed to you. I just want to be with someone who fits."

Apparently, that was enough pain for your heart, so finally, you took a step back, your heart heavy with the realization of Azriel’s struggle to find where he belonged, to understand the love he craved. But the sight of him seeking comfort in Elain's presence confirmed your doubts. It was enough to solidify your resolve. He was searching for something in Elain that he yearned for, and it looked like he found it, and it hurt you more than you wanted to admit.

You had to protect yourself. You couldn't risk exposing the bond, not when Azriel's heart was clearly elsewhere. The risk of rejection, of enduring the inevitable heartbreak, was too great. It was certain; it was no longer just a possibility.

You retreated down the corridor, determination settling in your chest like a cold, hard stone. You would accept Eris's proposal. It was the logical choice—the safe choice. An alliance with Eris would protect your heart and the Night Court. And if it meant denying the bond you felt with Azriel, so be it. This was not the first time the bond was denied, and it wouldn’t be the last. At least this way, you would be spared the pain of seeing Azriel look at Elain with love that wasn't meant for you.

Your footsteps echoed in the quiet halls as you made your way to your chambers. Each step felt heavier than the last, burdened with the weight of your decision. You had a choice to finalize and preparations to make. The path ahead was clear. It was time you started to face destiny on your terms.

Reaching your chambers, you closed the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. You had always been strong and always made the difficult choices. This was no different. You would marry Eris, forge the alliance that would protect Prythian, and bury the bond deep within yourself, where it could no longer hurt you.

As you stood there, alone in the dim light of your room, you allowed yourself one moment of vulnerability. A single tear slipped down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away as you squared your shoulders. Determined, you sat at your desk and reached for a parchment and quill.

Dear Prince Eris,

I hope this letter finds you well. After giving it a lot of thought, I’ve come to a decision about your proposal. Let’s discuss it further at the Midnight Solstice Ball in the Hewn City. It’ll be a good chance for us to talk privately and to discuss more about our deal. I’ll give you my answer then, but I think you’ll find it worth the wait. Until that time, I trust you’ll keep this between us.

Looking forward to seeing you,

Y/N

Azriel

The conversation with Rhys replayed in Azriel's mind as he made his way through the corridors of the River House, the sound of his footsteps a dull echo. Why are you so bothered by it? Rhys's question had struck a chord within him, and Azriel found himself restless and searching for answers he couldn't quite grasp. He needed clarity—needed to understand what was happening between him and Y/N.

As he reached the garden, he saw Elain among the blooming roses, her presence as serene as the morning sun. Azriel hesitated at the threshold, a familiar mix of comfort and uncertainty settling in his chest. Elain was his friend, someone he could confide in without fear of judgment, and yet a part of him wondered if she could help him understand Y/N's behaviour.

"Azriel?" Elain's voice was gentle as she turned to him, a welcoming smile on her lips. "What brings you here?"

He approached her slowly, the scent of roses mingling with the crisp morning air. "I needed someone to talk to," he admitted, his voice rough with the weight of unspoken thoughts. "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," she replied, gesturing for him to sit beside her on the garden bench. "What's on your mind?"

Azriel sat down, his wings folding neatly behind him as he stared at the vibrant flowers. He struggled to find the right words, unsure of how much to reveal. "It's about Y/N," he finally said, glancing at Elain to gauge her reaction.

Elain's expression softened with understanding. "I heard there's been some tension," she said. "Is everything alright between you two?"

He shook his head, frustration creeping into his voice. "I wish I knew. She... she makes it difficult to understand her. I thought I knew her, but now I'm not so sure." He paused for a moment, trying to organize his thoughts, “I...I don’t understand her,” his voice strained. “She told me she doesn’t have a mate, but that’s not true, i gathered that much from Rhys. And then there’s Eris. She’s considering marrying him, and I don’t know why it bothers me so much.”

Elain’s gaze softened, and she reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Azriel, Y/N is a complicated person. She’s been through a lot. Maybe she’s scared.”

“Scared of what?” he asked, his frustration evident. “I just want to understand her, to know why she’s doing this.”

Elain sighed, looking thoughtful. “Sometimes, people lie about things because they think it’s the only way to protect themselves. Maybe she’s afraid of the bond, of what it means.”

Azriel clenched his fists, trying to suppress the anger and confusion roiling inside him. “But why would she lie to me? Why not just tell me the truth?”

Elain shook her head. “It’s not always that simple, Azriel. Bonds are...intense. They can be overwhelming. Maybe she’s trying to herself from getting hurt.”

“I feel like I’m missing something, like an important piece in a puzzle.”, he confessed.

Elain turned to him and offered one of those healing smiles, “Time will tell, Az. You shouldn't worry yourself too much.”

He nodded, right now he just needed to wait.

A few minutes passed as they both sat in silence, taking in the beautiful garden.

He turned to her, taking in her gentle presence. There was a time when he had believed she might be the one to fill the void in his heart, but now he questioned everything he had assumed. "Elain, I've been thinking," he began, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Elain gave him an encouraging smile, her eyes filled with understanding. "What is it, Azriel?"

“I have been searching for love for a very long time but I never felt like I deserved it.” He admitted to her. 

Elain’s eyes furrowed as she placed a comforting hand on his arm,  "Azriel, you deserve to be happy. To find someone who truly sees you."

Azriel nodded, and a sorrowful smile graced his lips. "I thought...maybe I could be that person for you, Elain. Maybe we could be right for each other."

Elain sighed softly as she spoke, "Azriel, you've been a wonderful friend. But you need to be honest with yourself about what you truly want."

He nodded, as he searched for words, "I just want to do what's right. I pined for Mor, but that was just a wishful dream, and then you came. All signs pointed to you. I just want to be with someone who fits."

Elain remained silent as she listened to him, “But I think I made you seem like something you are not, you are one of my closest confidantes but I thought or rather hoped we’d be more. I was desperate to have something that my brothers had, so much so that, I was sure you were my answer.” he paused, "I wanted to be the person for you, Elain. I thought that the cauldron was mistaken, but now I see that I've been chasing something that isn't meant to be." 

"But I've realized," Azriel continued, "that while we share something special, it's not the kind of love I thought I was looking for. We're better as friends, aren't we?"

Elain nodded, her smile warm and understanding. "I think so too. We have a bond, Azriel, but it's different from what you have with Y/N."

He let out a soft chuckle, the sound tinged with relief. "I suppose I've been chasing shadows, hoping to find the light in the wrong places."

Elain nodded, understanding in her eyes. "It's okay to want love, Azriel. But maybe you need to look beyond the obvious, beyond what's easy."

Next Part

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Let me know if you want to get added to the list or if I missed someone!

[moonlitstoriess]

Binding Lies- Eris Vanserra x fem! reader (mini-series) Part 2

Summary: When Y/N, Azriel's secret half-sister who lives far away, and Eris Vanserra form a strategic contractual marriage to further their own agendas, what begins as a carefully crafted arrangement soon becomes more complicated. As they pretend to be a perfect couple, the lines between duty and desire blur, and neither is prepared for the consequences.

Previous part

Next Part

See masterlist

Warnings: none for now either, I think

The morning sunlight trickled into the room through cracked shutters, casting golden lines across Y/N’s worn wooden floor. She sat stiffly at the edge of her chair, her gaze fixed on the tepid tea in her hands. The cup was shaking slightly, her fingers unable to stop trembling no matter how tightly she gripped it.

It wasn’t the tea. It wasn’t even the too-bright sunlight piercing her bleary eyes.

“Marry me.”

The words from yesterday echoed in her mind, louder than the birds chirping outside, louder than the clock ticking relentlessly on her wall. It had been more of a command than a proposal, Eris’s tone leaving no room for discussion. Her jaw clenched at the memory of his smirk, so infuriatingly sure of himself, as though the entire world bent to his whims.

She had wanted to scream, to tell him he could shove his proposal somewhere unpleasant. But no, she’d stood there, stunned and silent, while he outlined his outrageous plan. A fake marriage. Pretending to be a princess. Attending the royal court.

Her stomach twisted violently, and she abandoned her tea on the table.

She had barely slept, tossing and turning as her mind warred between outrage and disbelief. How could he expect her to agree to such madness? She didn’t even like him. The idea of being tied to him—even pretend—made her want to claw at her skin.

She had spent the entire day trying to distract herself. Fixing the squeaky hinge on her front door, scrubbing floors that didn’t need cleaning, reorganizing her tiny kitchen shelves. But no matter how hard she tried, his words wouldn’t leave her.

Even now, as the morning sun warmed her modest home, her thoughts refused to settle. Eris’s smirk. His sharp, calculating eyes. His promise that this would be the only way to save the lands, to protect innocent lives.

Her teeth ground together. Why me?

A sharp knock at the door startled her out of her spiraling thoughts.

Her head snapped up, her pulse quickening. She froze, staring at the door as if it might bite her.

No. Not him again. Please, not him.

The knock came again, firmer this time.

Y/N groaned, running a hand through her hair. “If that’s you, Vanserra, I swear to the gods—”

She marched to the door, yanking it open without a second thought.

What she expected: Eris, standing there with his smug smile and some new ridiculous demand. What she got: two women draped in flowing, shimmering robes and headscarves that caught the sunlight like liquid gold.

Her words caught in her throat as she blinked at them.

The shorter of the two, a woman with warm bronze-toned skin and large, intelligent eyes, inclined her head politely. “Good morning,” she said softly, her voice smooth as honey.

Y/N blinked again. “Uh…” She glanced between the two women, her grip on the door tightening. “Can I… help you?”

The taller woman, her sharp cheekbones framed by the loose fabric of her scarf, stepped forward. “We were sent by Princess Leone.”

Y/N’s brain stalled completely. “…What?”

The shorter woman—who introduced herself as Noura—smiled gently. “The princess cannot risk her plans being overheard. She sent us to escort you safely to the palace.”

Y/N’s jaw fell open, her grip on the door slackening. “I’m sorry—what?”

The taller one, Samira, tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes glinting. “You are to leave immediately. The princess’s orders were clear.”

“Wait, wait, hold on.” Y/N threw up her hands, stepping back as if to put more space between her and these absurdly calm women. “I haven’t even said yes yet!”

The two women exchanged a look, as if they were sharing some private joke. Noura folded her hands neatly in front of her. “You haven’t?”

“No!” Y/N snapped, her voice rising. “This whole thing is insane! I’m not some princess, and I’m not—” She waved her hands wildly, her voice breaking into a frustrated laugh. “I don’t know what I’m doing!”

Samira stepped forward, her movements graceful and deliberate. “Your doubts are understandable,” she said evenly. “But the princess chose you for a reason.”

“That reason being Eris Vanserra,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

“We cannot stay here long,” Noura interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. “The princess does not take risks lightly, and neither should you.”

Y/N glared at them, her hands planted on her hips. “So what, you just expect me to pack up my life and leave?”

Another shared look passed between them, this one tinged with amusement.

Noura stepped inside, uninvited, her soft slippers making no noise on the wooden floor. “You won’t need to pack much. Everything you require has been arranged.”

Before Y/N could argue, Samira placed a firm hand on her shoulder and guided her toward the small chair by the table.

“Wait—what are you—”

“Sit,” Samira said briskly.

Y/N sat. Mostly out of shock.

Samira immediately began undoing the messy braid Y/N had thrown her hair into that morning, her deft fingers working with surprising speed. Noura, meanwhile, produced a bundle of fabric from a satchel she carried, unfolding it to reveal a gown so stunning it made Y/N’s throat tighten.

“Wait, wait,” Y/N said, lifting her hands as if to ward them off. “What is this?”

“This,” Noura said with a small smile, “is your disguise.”

“I don’t need a disguise!”

Samira arched a brow as she twisted Y/N’s hair into an intricate knot. “You’re pretending to be a princess, darling. You do need a disguise.”

Y/N groaned, slumping in her seat. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“You’ll survive,” Samira said dryly, securing a final pin.

The two women worked efficiently, leaving Y/N little room to protest. By the time they finished, she was draped in layers of shimmering twilight-blue fabric, her hair braided and pinned with delicate silver ornaments.

Y/N stared at her reflection in the small mirror Samira held up. “Gods,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I look like I’m about to be sacrificed to some ancient deity.”

Noura chuckled softly, but her tone turned serious as she said, “We need to leave. The others are waiting.”

“The others?” Y/N echoed, her stomach sinking.

Her question was answered the moment she stepped outside.

Her mouth fell open as she took in the small caravan parked just beyond her gate. Horses, sentries in gleaming armor, women dressed in elegant gowns that rivaled her own. A small, ornately carved carriage waited at the center of it all, its wheels gleaming in the sunlight.

Y/N turned to Noura, her voice shrill. “What is this?”

“The princess’s most trusted court,” Noura explained, motioning toward the group. “She chose them carefully. They know the price of betrayal.”

Y/N’s stomach churned. “And what is the price?”

Samira’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Oh, honey,” she said, her voice filled with wicked amusement. “You don’t know our princess at all.”

One of the sentries stepped forward, bowing low. Samira took Y/N’s hand and guided her toward the waiting carriage.

Y/N shot one last, desperate look back at her little house, her stomach sinking further. “Thank the gods my house is far from civilization,” she muttered as she climbed into the carriage. “At least my neighbors won’t see this circus.”

Samira smirked as she settled in beside her. “You’d better get used to it,” she said lightly. “This circus is just getting started.”

The carriage began to roll forward with a slight lurch, and Y/N clutched the edge of her seat, her knuckles white. The horses’ hooves clattered against the cobblestones, the sound accompanied by the rhythmic creak of the wheels. She stared at the plush velvet interior of the carriage, trying to calm her racing thoughts.

This was fine. Everything was fine. She’d agreed to this madness, and now she just had to—

“We’ll start with the basics,” Noura announced, her tone brisk and no-nonsense, snapping Y/N out of her spiraling thoughts.

“Wait, what—”

“You’ll be going by the name Amira Yasmin Idrissi,” Noura continued, as if Y/N hadn’t spoken. “Your family is one of the oldest and most noble bloodlines in the Southern Courts. You’re a distant cousin of the royal family through your mother’s side, which explains why you haven’t been seen at court often.”

Y/N blinked at her. “Amira what?”

“Yasmin Idrissi,” Noura repeated patiently.

Samira leaned back, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. “Keep up, darling. It gets better.”

“It gets worse,” Y/N muttered under her breath, but Noura was already plowing ahead.

“You’ve been living in isolation for the past few years, mourning the tragic death of your parents,” Noura continued, her tone shifting into something softer, more sympathetic. “They were assassinated during an ambush on their estate—”

“Assassinated?” Y/N interrupted, her voice shooting up an octave.

“Yes, assassinated,” Noura confirmed, frowning slightly as if it were obvious. “The Southern Courts have always had their share of political tensions, after all.”

Samira snorted. “You’re not a true noble if no one’s tried to murder you at least once.”

Y/N stared at her, wide-eyed. “What—”

“Anyway,” Noura interjected smoothly, “you’ve been in mourning. That’s why no one has seen you until now. You’ve spent your time traveling through secluded estates and keeping out of the public eye.”

“Secluded estates,” Y/N repeated flatly. “That sounds... convenient.”

Samira raised a brow. “What did you think? That we’d send you to the palace with no story at all? This isn’t amateur hour, sweetheart.”

Y/N groaned, slumping back against the cushioned seat. “Gods, what did I even sign up for?”

“You’re also an only child,” Noura added, ignoring her. “Which makes you the sole heir to your family’s lands and titles.”

“Perfect,” Y/N muttered. “I’m a grieving orphan with a target on my back. Sounds like a dream come true.”

Samira grinned. “Don’t forget, you’re also breathtakingly beautiful, adored by all who meet you, and an absolute darling of the court.”

Y/N snorted. “That’s pushing it.”

“Oh, no,” Noura said, dead serious. “You are adored. That’s part of the story.”

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re killing me.”

The carriage hit a small bump in the road, and Y/N jolted forward slightly. She shot a nervous glance at the window, her curiosity finally getting the better of her. She pushed back the curtain just enough to peek outside—and her stomach dropped.

The streets were lined with people.

Men, women, and children stood in clusters, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the carriage as it passed. Some whispered to each other, their eyes wide with curiosity. Others simply stared, their gazes fixed on the ornate design of the carriage, the fine horses pulling it, the glittering armor of the sentries surrounding it.

Y/N let the curtain fall back into place, turning to Noura with a horrified expression. “Are they... watching us?”

Noura smiled faintly. “Of course they are. You’re a princess, remember?”

“I’m not a princess,” Y/N hissed, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is all pretend!”

Samira smirked. “Tell that to them,” she said, jerking her head toward the window.

Y/N groaned, sinking lower into her seat. “I hate this.”

“Don’t slouch,” Noura said sharply. “A princess never slouches.”

Y/N shot her a glare but straightened her posture reluctantly.

“You’ll also need to work on your manners,” Noura added, as if Y/N wasn’t already overwhelmed. “Proper greetings, courtly etiquette, how to carry yourself in the presence of the king—”

“The king?” Y/N cut in, her voice rising. “I have to meet the king?”

“Obviously,” Samira said dryly. “You’re his niece. Well, technically, his distant niece. Twice removed.”

Y/N’s head spun. “How am I supposed to keep track of all this?”

“You’ll manage,” Noura said briskly. “The princess wouldn’t have chosen you if she didn’t think you could handle it.”

Y/N groaned again, burying her face in her hands. “This is a nightmare.”

Samira patted her shoulder, her grin infuriatingly smug. “Cheer up, Amira Yasmin Idrissi. You’re about to live every little girl’s dream.”

“Every little girl’s nightmare,” Y/N muttered.

The carriage rattled on, and Noura launched into more details about her supposed backstory—details that only made Y/N’s head hurt more. Her family’s estate was located in a fertile valley near the southern border. Her favorite pastime was horseback riding. She was a skilled harpist.

“I don’t even play the harp,” Y/N interrupted, exasperated.

“You do now,” Noura said firmly.

Y/N sighed, massaging her temples. “You’re all insane.”

Samira laughed. “Welcome to the court, darling.”

As the carriage began to slow, Y/N’s anxiety doubled. She peeked out the curtain again, catching a glimpse of the palace gates towering ahead. Her breath caught.

The gates were enormous, gilded in gold and flanked by towering marble columns. Beyond them, the palace rose like a shimmering mirage, its spires gleaming in the sunlight, its windows reflecting the bright blue sky.

“We’re here,” Noura said softly.

Y/N swallowed hard, her hands gripping the edge of her seat. This was it. There was no turning back now.

Samira leaned in, her voice low and teasing. “Ready to meet your adoring public?”

Y/N shot her a withering glare. “Not even a little bit.”

The carriage rolled to a stop, and Noura straightened, smoothing her gown. “Remember, you’re a princess. Keep your head high, smile politely, and don’t let them see you falter.”

Y/N took a shaky breath, forcing herself to sit up straighter. “Right. Princess. No faltering.”

Samira opened the door, and sunlight flooded the carriage. Y/N squinted against the brightness, her heart pounding as she stepped out onto the polished stone pathway.

The palace loomed before her, grand and imposing, its walls alive with the whispers of history.

And just like that, her quiet, ordinary life was gone.

The moment Y/N stepped out of the carriage, it was as though the entire world shifted its focus onto her. Dozens of faces turned in her direction—guards in gleaming armor, palace servants bustling about, courtiers idling in the grand hallways. All of them stared, their eyes narrowing with curiosity, suspicion, or outright disbelief. The weight of their gazes felt like a hundred-pound boulder pressing down on her chest.

She hesitated, her feet glued to the smooth marble pathway that led to the palace entrance. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure everyone within a five-mile radius could hear it.

“This was a terrible idea,” she muttered under her breath.

“Keep moving,” Noura said softly, her voice laced with a calm authority that left no room for argument.

Before Y/N could argue, Samira nudged her forward—not unkindly, but firmly enough to get her feet moving. “Head high, shoulders back,” Samira instructed. “You’re royalty now. Walk like it.”

Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but she forced her spine to straighten, her chin to lift. As she ascended the palace steps, the grand doors loomed larger and larger, their intricate carvings and gold inlays glinting in the sunlight.

When they finally entered the palace, it felt like stepping into another world. The air was cooler, scented faintly with jasmine and polished wood. Sunlight poured through towering stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the pristine floors. Everything gleamed—marble, gold, crystal. It was opulent, almost offensively so.

And everyone was still staring.

Her palms grew clammy, and her mind raced. Did they know? Did anyone recognize her?

Y/N faltered for a moment, her steps slowing as her gaze flicked nervously to the courtiers who whispered behind their hands, their sharp eyes trained on her every move.

“I can’t do this,” she hissed under her breath, her voice barely audible.

“Yes, you can,” Noura replied smoothly, taking her arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Keep walking. Smile faintly. Don’t let them see your nerves.”

“Smile faintly?” Y/N repeated, incredulous. “I’m about to keel over, and you want me to—”

Samira jabbed her lightly in the ribs, making her jolt forward. “Less talking, more walking, princess."

Y/N shot her a glare but did as she was told, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

As they passed a group of finely dressed courtiers, one of them—a haughty-looking male with sharp cheekbones and a jeweled cane—raised a brow at her, his lips curling in a faint smirk. Y/N resisted the urge to throw something at him.

She could already hear the whispers trailing in her wake: “Who is she?” “Is she truly from the Southern Courts?” “She doesn’t look familiar. I’ve never heard of an Amira Yasmin Idrissi before…”

Her stomach churned, but she pushed forward, letting Noura and Samira guide her through the labyrinthine halls of the palace.

As they walked, her thoughts began to spiral. I was a servant here. Just two nights ago, I was scrubbing these floors, serving wine to these glorified highborn bastards. And now? Now I’m supposed to convince them I’m one of them?

Her lips twitched in dark amusement, but the humor was short-lived. Gods, what if the servants recognize me?

Her steps faltered again, and she shot a panicked glance at Noura. “Wait—what about the servants? They’ll know who I am. They’ve seen me.”

“Relax,” Noura said without missing a beat. “The princess has taken care of it.”

Y/N frowned. “Taken care of it? How?”

Samira smirked. “You really don’t want to know.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Y/N muttered.

“Stop overthinking,” Noura said, her tone firmer now. “The princess wouldn’t have sent for you if she wasn’t certain everything was in place. Trust the plan.”

Trust the plan. Easy for her to say. Noura wasn’t the one being paraded through the palace as a fake princess, pretending she hadn’t spent years cleaning these very halls.

They turned a corner, and Y/N caught sight of a set of massive double doors ahead. Her breath hitched. The doors were intricately carved, depicting a scene of blooming roses and curling vines, their edges gilded with gold. Two guards stood on either side, their expressions impassive, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.

Her feet slowed, her nerves spiking again.

“This is it,” Noura said quietly.

"You are doing great, just try to act less like you are heading to your execution and more like you are about to meet her royal highness herself." Samira whispered with a small amused smile.

Before Y/N could respond, the guards stepped forward, their movements perfectly synchronized. They each grasped one of the doors and pushed them open with a low groan of ancient hinges.

The room beyond was bathed in golden light, the air thick with the scent of fresh flowers and incense. The ceilings soared high above, adorned with intricate murals of battles and celebrations. At the far end of the room stood a figure clad in flowing, jewel-toned robes—the stunning Princess Leone herself, her dark eyes sharp and calculating, her regal beauty utterly intimidating.

But it wasn’t the princess who stole Y/N’s attention.

Standing just to the side of Leone, dressed impeccably in tailored black with his auburn hair catching the light, was the bane of her existence.

Eris Vanserra.

And he was smirking.

Gods help me, Y/N thought, her stomach sinking. What have I gotten myself into?

Y/N stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes still fixed on Eris, the bane of her existence. Every inch of her body felt like it was vibrating with rage, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She was barely aware of the princess’s greeting, her words floating in one ear and out the other as her gaze remained locked on Eris’s infuriating smirk.

"My distant cousin," Princess Leone's voice rang out, smooth and melodic, with an air of graciousness Y/N could never hope to match. "How happy am I to meet you at last."

The princess stepped forward, her arms wide as if she were welcoming a long-lost relative, and for a brief, surreal moment, Y/N almost wondered if this was all just some ridiculous dream. But no—no, this was real. This was her life now.

The two ladies, Noura and Samira, both nodded with pride as Leone turned to them, offering a pleased smile. "You’ve done a marvelous job," she said, her voice laced with a compliment that seemed as natural as breathing. "Well done."

Y/N barely heard this, her thoughts still tangled around the sight of Eris, who was now lounging in one of the luxurious chairs near the princess. His arms crossed in that irritatingly confident way, his eyes never leaving hers as though he found this all just one big joke.

Noura and Samira moved to sit beside Leone, and Y/N was ushered forward, her feet heavy as lead. She took the seat opposite the princess, the silken fabric of her new royal gown sliding around her uncomfortably. She wanted to stand. She wanted to walk right out of the room. But all eyes were on her.

It’s fine. It’s fine, she repeated to herself, but her mind didn’t seem to believe it.

Her hand trembled slightly as she placed it on her lap, and she cursed inwardly at how her body was betraying her.

"Ah," the princess said with a soft laugh, her dark eyes glinting with amusement, as if she could see exactly what was happening in Y/N’s head. "I am aware of how absurd this all must seem to you."

Y/N’s lips twitched, and before she could stop herself, she shot back, "You could say that again. One minute I’m scrubbing the floors and serving wine, the next I’m supposed to act like I’ve been born into royalty. It’s a bit much, don’t you think?"

Leone smiled gently, and for the briefest moment, Y/N saw something in her eyes—a sharpness that told her the princess was far more calculating than she let on. "I know, it is not a position one would choose lightly. But it is necessary."

Eris, meanwhile, was far less tactful. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing Y/N with that all-too-familiar smirk. "You’re handling it well so far. Not every servant gets the chance to play royalty, you know."

Y/N’s teeth clenched, but before she could respond, her voice dripping with sarcasm, Leone raised a hand, her serene composure never faltering. "Eris," she said, almost as if scolding a petulant child. "Let her breathe."

Eris only chuckled, unperturbed. "I’m just saying, she looks the part."

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, and she shot back, "Oh, well, I certainly hope that ‘looking the part’ doesn’t involve being surrounded by irritating people like you."

The princess and her two companions exchanged amused glances, and it was clear that they were both entertained and a little impressed by Y/N’s sharp tongue.

But just as the tension in the room began to simmer into something more volatile, Samira cleared her throat politely.

"Yes, yes, I think we should focus," she said, her voice soft but carrying an undeniable authority. "We have much to discuss."

Leone nodded, turning her full attention back to Y/N. Her smile never wavered. "Indeed. Now, Y/N, let’s get to the matter at hand. You’re bound to have many questions, but rest assured, we’ve thought of everything."

Y/N was already running through the list in her head, her thoughts moving in a chaotic blur. She opened her mouth, but Leone cut her off smoothly before she could speak. "The maids. Yes, they have been given very specific instructions. They will not know you. They will not acknowledge you, not as Y/N. In fact, they’ll act as though they’ve never seen you before in their lives. You’ll have no need to worry about them. Their only job is to ensure you are comfortable while keeping the act intact."

Y/N blinked, trying to process the information. "And what about—"

"No," Leone interjected, cutting her off once again with a calm wave of her hand. "No, you needn’t concern yourself with the details. Everything will be taken care of. The servants, the palace, the way you’re seen by others. All of it has been accounted for."

Y/N’s mind was still racing, but she managed to suppress the urge to argue. "Fine," she said, though she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was something she was missing. "What about... the king? My family? What about the Autumn Court? Eris brought... other courtiers with him, right?"

The moment she said his name, Eris’s smirk deepened, and Y/N had to resist the urge to throw something at him.

Princess Leone raised an eyebrow, her voice smooth as honey. "Ah, yes, the king. He knows nothing of you���at least, not yet. Your family, as far as anyone knows, was part of a branch of the Southern Court that dissolved years ago, and your 'lineage' has been carefully constructed by us. The king has no reason to suspect anything unusual. Not yet, anyway."

Eris leaned forward, eyes gleaming with that dangerous charm. "As for the Autumn Court and my dear, dear father, well, he hasn’t a clue either. I’m sure they’ll be just as shocked as you when they see your 'family,' which is, of course, a bit... fabricated."

Y/N shot him a look of disgust, barely able to keep her temper in check. "Fabulous," she muttered. "A fake family for a fake princess. What could possibly go wrong?"

Leone chuckled, unfazed by the sarcasm. "What Eris means," she continued smoothly, "is that the whole court has been kept in the dark about you. We’ve carefully ensured that no one will know who you are or that your family doesn’t truly exist."

Leone’s voice broke through her thoughts once again, soft and reassuring. "The courtiers will behave as though you’ve always been one of us. They’ve been given very clear instructions, and they will be there to protect you if anything goes awry."

Y/N looked from one to the other, her head spinning with all the information they were throwing at her. "So, let me get this straight," she said slowly, trying to make sense of it all. "I’m supposed to pretend to be royalty, be part of a family that doesn’t exist, and fool a court that doesn’t even know I’m—"

"Exactly," Eris interrupted, leaning back in his chair with a smug look on his face.

Y/N didn’t even look at him this time. She turned to the princess, who was still watching her with those calm, measured eyes. "And when the king finds out—what then?"

Leone’s gaze flicked briefly to Eris before returning to Y/N. "We deal with that when the time comes. In the meantime, you’ll have the full support of me, my trusted courtiers, and the two ladies you’ve met, Noura and Samira. They will be your most trusted allies, assisting you through every moment of this performance. If you falter or hesitate, they will step in for you."

Y/N couldn’t help but exhale a sharp breath, the weight of it all pressing down on her. This was madness. And yet, it was the only way forward.

"And Eris?" Y/N asked, glancing up at him again, only to find him watching her with a look that could only be described as smug.

"Yes?" Eris asked innocently.

She gritted her teeth, trying not to snap. "Just... stay out of my way, alright?"

"Unfortunately for you," he replied with mock sweetness. "I can't do that, since...you know, we are soon to be married and all."

Leone’s soft laugh interrupted their banter, and she leaned forward. "Enough with the games, you two. We have much to prepare for, and very little time."

Y/N sighed, but this time, it wasn’t frustration—well, not entirely. There was a sense of inevitability creeping in. The plans had been set in motion, and she had no choice but to follow.

The room was unlike anything Y/N had ever imagined for herself. She stood at the entrance, her gaze sweeping over every inch of the space as the two ladies, with practiced grace, moved about, making sure her belongings were neatly arranged. The high walls, bathed in soft golden light, were adorned with intricate tapestries that shimmered in the sunlight, woven with scenes of distant lands and battles, gods and legends. Low, ornate lamps cast a warm, honeyed glow across the rich fabrics—plush cushions and rugs in deep crimson, amber, and sapphire hues sprawled across the floor. The wooden beams in the ceiling were carved with delicate patterns of swirling vines, their beauty lost on her as she stood still, completely frozen.

Her eyes lingered on the grand mirror hanging above the vanity, its frame designed in geometric patterns and inlaid with pieces of ivory and gold. She wasn’t sure why it felt so foreign, so alien to her. This was supposed to be her new life, a reward for her obedience, her silence, her sacrifice. Yet as she gazed at her reflection, she only felt a stranger. She didn’t belong here.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the vanity, gripping it to steady herself. This life—this palace of riches—felt so distant from the life she had lived just weeks ago. Back then, the days had been long and cold, spent working herself into exhaustion so she could afford the next batch of herbs and treatments for her mother. Her mother, who had been fighting a sickness that drained her strength a little more with each passing day. Every time Y/N had returned home, it had been like a new stab to her heart, seeing her mother weaker, paler.

But now? Now she stood in this stunning room, surrounded by riches she could never have imagined. None of it mattered. None of it could fill the empty space where her heart used to be.

Her mother was not here. No, her mother was in the healer’s place, just like she had been for the past few months. The Healing House, a place that Y/N had fought tooth and nail to get her into. She had saved every coin she earned, worked double shifts, and scrimped and saved for months, just to get her mother the care she needed. The healer’s place had been the only option after everything else had failed. It was one of the only places Y/N could afford where they wouldn’t just treat her mother’s illness, but actually try to cure it.

And yet, every time she visited, her heart had shattered all over again. Her mother, once so vibrant and full of life, was now reduced to a shell of herself—her frail body clinging to life, her once-strong voice now barely a whisper. Y/N had tried everything to help, but it was never enough. Every visit, every look into her mother’s weary eyes, was a reminder that she was failing.

She should be there. She should be with her, holding her hand, staying by her side. That was where she belonged. Not here, in a room like this, a room meant for royalty and power. This life, this palace, this engagement—it was all a distraction. A temporary moment that took her away from the only thing that truly mattered.

The thought of her mother, sick and alone in that healer’s house, brought tears to Y/N’s eyes. The guilt was overwhelming, crushing. Her mother had sacrificed everything for her. How could Y/N leave her now?

Why was she even here? Why did she deserve to be the one chosen? Because of her mother? Or had Eris seen something else in her? Was there something about her that made her worthy of standing next to him, of playing the part of this engaged princess?

A laugh escaped her lips, bitter and hollow.

She cursed her father’s name again, the same bitter, resentful curse she’d been repeating since she was a child. How could he have left them both to fend for themselves? He had disappeared without a trace, without a word.

She felt a bitter pang in her chest when she thought of Azriel. How lucky he was to have had a father, someone who cared for him, someone who fought for him. Azriel—someone who had a name for himself, who had a future, a destiny that was his to shape.

Meanwhile, here Y/N was, caught in a web of lies and promises, trying to fit into a life that wasn’t hers. She was nothing but a pawn in this game. She couldn’t make a name for herself like Azriel, couldn't rise to greatness. She was just a female who had been forced into a role she didn’t understand but needed.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let her emotions control her. She had to focus. She had to do this for her mother. For her mother. She couldn’t afford to think about herself right now.

This engagement to Eris, this life she was now thrust into—none of it mattered as long as she could get her mother the treatment she needed. That was the only thing that kept her from falling apart completely. Eris had promised her mother would be cared for. And even though she didn’t trust him, the way he had spoken about her mother had made her believehim, just for that one thing.

The door creaked open, snapping Y/N from her spiraling thoughts. One of the ladies entered, her voice light, but laced with an undertone of amusement.

“Will you stop staring so hard into the mirror? It might break, you know?”

Y/N blinked, startled. “Wha—when did you come back?”

The lady, Samira, gave her an almost affectionate smile. “Long enough to see you lost in thought, staring at your reflection like you’ve never seen yourself before. But no matter. We need to get you ready. You and Prince Eris are meeting the king soon.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the king. “The king?” Her voice cracked slightly, but she quickly regained her composure.

“Yes,” Samira replied with a touch of amusement, stepping closer to help adjust her gown. “The king is... unwell. Don’t worry about him. He can barely remember his daughter's name, let alone yours.”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel a surge of anxiety at the thought of meeting the king, but Samira’s calmness was contagious. “You’ll be fine,” she continued, her hands deftly smoothing down the fabric of Y/N’s gown. “Just remember your story and don’t say anything to upset the king. He’s not likely to remember anyway. But don’t worry—all eyes will be on you.”

“Eyes?” Y/N’s stomach churned. “What’s this about ‘eyes’?”

Samira grinned knowingly as she took a step back, her gaze flickering over Y/N’s dress. “You’ll be stepping out as the engaged couple. The garden party in your honor, remember? We need to make sure everyone sees you and Prince Eris as the perfect match.”

Y/N’s lips twisted into a wry smile as she caught her reflection once more. Perfect match. The thought felt strange on her tongue. “What a joke,” she muttered to herself.

Samira gave her a look, as if sensing her discomfort. “It’s not a joke, not here. The court will be speaking about you both, and you’ll have their attention. Make them remember you. They’ll be whispering your name.”

Y/N’s chest tightened with a complicated mix of emotions, but Samira’s steady presence made her feel as though she could handle it. She could play this part, couldn’t she? For her mother.

Still, as the gown settled around her and the final touches were made, doubts and fears began to rise in her mind. Was she really doing the right thing? Was it worth all of this—this life, these lies—to ensure her mother’s safety? Could she really wear this mask, this façade, for as long as it took?

Her reflection stared back at her with a mixture of uncertainty and defiance.

And for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t sure what came next. But she had to keep moving forward. For her mother.

As Samira left the room and signaled for Y/N to follow her, Y/N found herself staring at the door, her heart filled with questions she didn’t know how to answer.

The grand staircase stretched down before her like a scene from a dream, its marble steps gleaming beneath the soft glow of golden chandeliers. Y/N hesitated at the top, her heart racing in her chest. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing on her, the unknowns that awaited her just beyond the doors below. There was a sense of finality in the air, an unspoken expectation, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she was truly ready for this.

Behind her, Samira stepped forward with a quiet grace, her hands brushing against the rich tapestries hanging along the walls. “Your grace,” Samira said, her voice low and steady, “I will escort you to the bottom.”

Y/N nodded, offering a faint smile, grateful for the quiet strength Samira exuded. There was something calming about her presence, though the fear in Y/N’s heart remained thick, unyielding.

They began their descent. The sound of Y/N’s soft footsteps echoed through the hall as they moved slowly down the grand staircase. The air grew heavier with each step, the pressure mounting. At the bottom of the stairs, Eris stood waiting for her, his tall figure framed by the archway leading into the next hall. His posture was regal, almost commanding, but there was something more in the way his eyes met hers—an understanding, perhaps, or something less defined.

His palm was raised, an unspoken invitation. “Shall we?” he said, his voice smooth, carrying the weight of both formality and something more, something that made her pause for a moment.

Y/N took a steadying breath, gathering the courage to place her hand in his. His fingers closed gently around hers, the warmth of his touch grounding her in that moment, even as the tremor of uncertainty ran through her. Samira gave a polite nod before she turned, her steps retreating as she left them alone.

The atmosphere shifted, becoming more intimate in a way that made Y/N’s stomach flip. The vastness of the room around them seemed to shrink, the silence between them stretching like a thin veil. She tried to steady her breathing as they began to walk side by side, Eris leading her down the long corridor toward the King’s Guest Chambers.

“So,” Eris started, his tone light but with a touch of something she couldn’t quite place. “I must admit, you look rather... eye-catching this evening.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a wry smile. “We’re alone, Eris,” she said, her voice dripping with an amused challenge. “You don’t have to pretend to be in love with me just yet.”

Eris’ eyes flickered to her, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he quickly recovered. His steps faltered just slightly, but only for a second. He cleared his throat, looking more uncomfortable than she expected. “Oh, I—well, you know, the guards are still around, and there are servants,” he stammered, his voice betraying him for the first time since they’d met.

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle under her breath, shaking her head slightly. “Right. Of course.” She shot him a teasing glance, but before she could say anything else, Eris shifted the conversation, his voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone.

“Y/N…” His voice was low, almost hesitant, and it caught her attention immediately. “Your mother… she’s in good hands. I’ve made sure of it. Leone secured the best healers for her care, and I’ve ensured that additional funds were paid for the medicines required for her treatment.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her mind momentarily breaking from the tension of the moment. “You did?” Her voice was soft, and she felt a rush of relief at the thought. “I didn’t have enough... I could never afford...”

Eris nodded, his gaze steady as he looked down at her, as if trying to reassure her. “I know. The treatments she needs are... expensive, and the herbs and potions are coming from abroad, so it may take a little time before they arrive in full, but rest assured, she is being closely monitored. That wasn’t something you could afford before, but I’ve made sure she’s under constant care.”

The words lingered in the air, and Y/N felt something shift in her chest. For the first time in what felt like ages, a weight lifted off her heart. Her mother... was truly being taken care of. In the best possible way.

Y/N let out a quiet sigh, her shoulders relaxing as she allowed herself to breathe a little easier. She hadn’t realized how much of her energy had been consumed by worry for her mother’s health. And yet, here was Eris, someone she barely knew, going out of his way to make sure that her mother had what she needed.

“Thank you,” she whispered, barely able to find the words for the overwhelming relief flooding through her. “I don’t know how to...”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Eris cut in quickly, as if he could sense her hesitance. He gave her hand a slight squeeze, his voice low but firm. “I’m doing what’s right. You shouldn’t have had to fight for this.”

She nodded, her throat tight, grateful beyond words. The kindness in his voice—however it came about—was enough to soften her wary edges just slightly.

Before she could respond, Eris’s voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper as they walked. “Now, don’t get too comfortable. We’re nearly there.”

Y/N blinked, startled. “Wait, we—what?”

He smiled, though it was brief, his lips curving upward as he leaned in just a little closer. “We’re here.”

The words hit her before she had a chance to protest. The large, imposing doors of the King’s Guest Chambers stood ahead of them, the faint murmur of voices coming from within.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she glanced up at Eris, her stomach churning again. “Oh gods. Here we go.” Her hand trembled slightly in his, but she forced herself to stand tall. She wasn’t going to let herself falter now.

Eris seemed to sense her growing anxiety, his grip on her hand steadying. “Relax,” he whispered, the calmness in his tone almost surprising given the situation. “You’ll be fine.”

With a final glance at her, Eris gave a small nod to the guards standing at the door, and it opened with a low creak.

Y/N could feel the tension mounting within her as she stepped over the threshold, and there—standing in front of them, looking far better than she expected—was the King. His appearance was old, frail, but there was a life in his eyes that made him seem... less sick than she had imagined. He had clearly been through years of decline, but there was still a sharpness to him, something unyielding beneath the surface.

As Y/N took in the sight of him, her mind raced. She was about to meet the king—an audience that could very well change everything. And she had to make a good impression. She couldn’t mess this up.

The door behind them clicked shut, the sound echoing in the silence.

Eris gave her hand a final squeeze. “Relax,” he murmured again, before stepping forward, leading them both into the room.

The King’s chambers were dimly lit, filled with ancient tapestries and relics of a long-past era, but despite the ornate surroundings, it was clear that time had been cruel to him. His regal posture, once proud, was now bent and frail as he stood with a slight tremble in his hands. His gaze flicked between Eris and Y/N with a kind of slow curiosity, as if he were trying to piece them together.

After a moment of silence, the King’s lips quirked into a smile, albeit a crooked one. "Ah, prince Eris," he began, his voice raspy but oddly warm. "Quite the surprise, I must say. You’ve gone and gotten yourself engaged. Quite sad, though, that you didn’t pick my daughter, but—" he paused, his eyes glinting mischievously, "at least you’ve chosen someone from my lineage… apparently."

Eris’ lips curled into a smooth, controlled smile as he stood taller, his posture unchanged. "Indeed, Your Majesty," he replied, his voice steady and polished. "I believe this union will be most beneficial for all involved. As for your daughter… well, she is already well cared for in her own way."

The King nodded thoughtfully, his fingers absentmindedly tapping the armrest of his chair. "Hmm, yes, of course. Quite the match you’ve made then. How did you two even meet?" he asked, leaning forward in his seat, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he studied them both.

Y/N froze, the question unexpected and a little too pointed for her liking. She hadn’t exactly been prepared for this—this kind of scrutiny, so early on. A part of her wanted to hide behind her words, to retreat into herself, but she knew she couldn’t. This was a test, one she needed to pass.

Eris smoothly stepped in, answering the question with the same practiced ease he always seemed to have. "We met in an unexpected way," he began, keeping his tone light and engaging. "Though perhaps not quite as romantic as some would hope. There were matters of necessity involved." His smile deepened, turning charming but still impersonal. "But it was fortuitous, Your Majesty. Everything fell into place."

Y/N stood beside him, her hands clenched at her sides, unsure of how to react. She swallowed hard, her mind swirling with the absurdity of it all. It was a strange mix of relief and tension. Her heart raced as she watched the King’s expression. His gaze was fixed on them, calculating. He was still not fully convinced, and his suspicion lingered in the air like an invisible fog.

The King’s brow furrowed, and he raised his hand, gesturing idly as if lost in thought. "I see. My daughter, Leone, did speak of the family’s… history. How, supposedly, this branch of our lineage had been lost to time." He squinted at Eris, then Y/N, as though trying to unravel some hidden truth from their faces. "Tell me, how did you convince my daughter of your... authenticity? Prince Eris how are you so surely tying your family history with our seemingly unknown branch?"

Y/N’s stomach flipped, the question more unnerving than she anticipated. Her mind whirred, trying to find the right answer. What had Leone told him? What had been said to paint this story of their family’s legitimacy? She wasn’t even sure herself, having only recently learned of it. She could feel the weight of the King's gaze drilling into her, and her mind became a whirlwind of thoughts, swirling and turning.

But before she could think too much, a voice interrupted her thoughts. Eris spoke again, his voice cutting through the tension with calm precision. “Your Majesty, my family’s history is not one to be easily explained in a few words,” he said, his tone both respectful and deflective. "But, rest assured, our intentions are pure, and this union will serve both our houses well."

Y/N’s head spun as the conversation continued, the King’s voice growing quieter and more thoughtful, yet his eyes never left them. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was probing them, digging for something he was not willing to show. The deeper they went into their explanation, the more she felt like they were walking on a fine line—one misstep, and everything would come crashing down.

Then, suddenly, the King stopped mid-sentence, his eyes glazing over with an unsettling shift. His frail hand trembled as he clasped it against his chest. A quiet muttering escaped his lips, incoherent at first, like he was lost in some strange dream.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She exchanged a brief, confused look with Eris, who had stiffened at the odd change. The King’s head jerked up, his eyes wide and unfocused, his body trembling as he began to speak louder, more erratically.

“No… no, not her… she’s... she’s—” the King stuttered, his voice rising in pitch. “She must—mustn’t get away! She must not! Mustn’t... No, not again! Not again!” His words were nonsensical, a jumble of madness, and Y/N couldn’t make sense of them.

Eris’ grip on her hand tightened instantly, a sharp jolt of awareness coursing through her. He had gone completely still, his eyes never leaving the King, who was now slapping his own face with increasing force.

“No!” the King shouted suddenly, his voice shrill. He began to hit his head with his fists, his body jerking violently as if battling invisible forces. “You’re all cursed! Cursed! All of you—all of you!” His words came faster, more frenzied, his mind unraveling before their eyes.

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, panic rising like a wave in her chest. She wanted to step forward, to do something—but her feet were frozen in place. The sight of the King, so out of control, was more unnerving than she could have imagined. She felt like they were on the edge of something much darker, something far worse than just a simple meeting.

Eris didn’t hesitate. He jerked her hand hard, pulling her sharply to the side as his voice rang out, commanding and urgent. “Get back!” he barked at the guards, his tone cutting through the chaos like a blade. “Now!”

The guards, who had been standing by the door, immediately rushed into the room, drawn by the King’s erratic behavior. But Eris was already pulling Y/N away, guiding her quickly out of the room with forceful steps, his grip unrelenting as he pushed her ahead of him.

Y/N’s mind was reeling, her heart hammering in her chest as the world seemed to spin around her. They didn’t stop until they were far enough down the hall, far away from the madness that had erupted in the King’s chambers.

Eris’ breathing was heavy, his usual composure slipping for the first time since Y/N had met him. He didn’t let go of her hand, even as they came to a halt, his face pale, his jaw clenched.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice quieter now but still tense.

Y/N could barely catch her breath, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow bursts. She nodded slowly, unable to form any words. Her mind was still trying to catch up with the rapid sequence of events. The King… what had just happened? The madness, the erratic behavior—it was unlike anything she had ever seen.

Eris stood in front of her, his gaze searching hers, as though looking for signs of weakness, or something deeper in her reaction. "You’re safe now," he said, though his voice lacked its usual smoothness. It was strained, as if he, too, was coming to terms with the terrifying shift that had just taken place.

The silence between them stretched thick, the tension still crackling in the air.

A few minutes had passed before Y/N was able to collect herself. Her breaths had slowed, and her hands no longer trembled, but the memory of the King’s sudden outburst lingered in her mind like a dark shadow. Eris remained at her side, his usually composed demeanor returning as he led her down the hall toward the sprawling garden where the party awaited them. The weight of what had just occurred hung heavily in the air between them, neither of them speaking at first.

Finally, as they rounded a corner, Y/N broke the silence, her voice quieter than she intended. “What the hell was that back there?”

Eris glanced at her, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as though considering his words carefully. “The King is sick,” he said simply, but the weight of his words was enough to send a chill down her spine.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked, her brow furrowing. “He looked completely… unhinged. I thought I was going to—”

“No, not like that,” Eris interjected, cutting her off with a slight shake of his head. “At first glance, you wouldn’t even know. He’s sick in ways you can’t see, not unless you’ve known him for a long time, like I have.” He sighed, his voice laced with a coldness Y/N had never heard from him before. “It’s not obvious, but it’s there. He's losing his grip on reality little by little. He’s been this way for years now. And Leone... she’s been handling more of the kingdom's affairs than most people realize. It’s why we didn’t worry too much when planning this whole thing and Leone having to cover for you. He is too ill to even remember."

Y/N absorbed his words, the reality of the King's state slowly sinking in. But there was something else lingering in the air, something Y/N couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Eris continued, his voice taking on a more neutral tone. “Leone is already in charge of many of the kingdom’s matters. She’s practically running everything. Soon enough, she’ll take her father’s place as queen. It’s only a matter of time now.”

Y/N gave him a sideways glance, her mind still reeling from the oddity of the King’s behavior. She didn’t know if she could ever get used to the sharp realities of this world—the political games, the whispered power plays, and the looming threats of madness hidden beneath the surface.

As they approached the gardens, the sound of laughter and the hum of conversation reached them, signaling the start of the party. The scene before them was nothing short of breathtaking.

The Montesere gardens sprawled out before them like something out of a dream. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and citrus blossoms, their vibrant colors spilling over from decorative stone planters. Lush greenery formed pathways that led through ornate arches adorned with ivy and fragrant vines, while stone fountains gurgled softly in the background. The party was set on large, elegant terracotta terraces, draped with silk curtains that swayed lazily in the warm evening breeze. The atmosphere was rich with the charm of history, yet alive with modern elegance.

Y/N felt a sudden wave of nerves as the eyes of the guests turned toward them. Her breath caught in her throat as their gazes swept over her, appraising, judging, as if trying to find her place in this strange, new world. The weight of their attention felt suffocating, as though she were caught in the middle of a stage play where everyone knew their part, but she had forgotten hers.

Eris, ever the master of composure, smiled—though Y/N could tell it was a practiced one, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He stepped closer to her, his hand sliding possessively around her waist, pulling her closer to him. His touch was firm, almost protective.

"Just follow my lead, Princess," he whispered into her ear, his voice smooth, low, and deceptively calm. "I’ve got this."

Y/N nodded, swallowing her uncertainty, and let him guide her further into the garden, feeling the eyes of the nobles and foreign dignitaries watching every movement she made. As they reached the center of the party, the music quieted, and a hush fell over the crowd.

Leone stood at the podium, a vision of poise and elegance, her posture straight and regal, her gaze scanning the gathered guests. As she began her speech, Y/N felt the weight of her words settle into her bones.

"I’m pleased to welcome you all to this celebration,” Leone began, her voice clear and commanding. “As some of you may know, it is with great joy that we announce the engagement of my dear distant cousin, Amira Yasmin Idrissi, to prince Eris Vanserra of the Autumn Court. A union between two families, bound by blood and destiny, that will surely bring prosperity to us all.”

Y/N felt her stomach twist at the mention of her fake name, Amira Yasmin Idrissi—the name she’d had to adopt for this game of royal politics. A name that didn’t belong to her, but which she had to wear like a mask, like a second skin. She could feel every eye in the crowd on her, and yet, she forced herself to stand taller, to lift her chin, to wear the mask of a princess even if it felt suffocating.

Leone continued, her speech a mixture of formal pleasantries and diplomatic niceties. As she spoke of Y/N, her words were laced with calculated compliments, but Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that Leone was using this moment to secure her own position, to strengthen her image as the future queen.

As Leone spoke of her new relative’s “bright future,” Y/N found herself caught in a battle with her own mind, the voice inside her head questioning everything. She was supposed to be this poised, composed female who could command the room with grace. And yet, the tension in her shoulders and the knot in her stomach made her feel more like an imposter than ever.

But Eris was by her side, as always. His presence was a silent anchor, his hand at her waist steady and unyielding. His grip tightened briefly, and beneath the table, his fingers brushed hers. The gesture was small, almost imperceptible, but it was enough.

A sense of calm—unexpected, almost unnatural—washed over her in that moment. He was there. He was with her. And though their situation was built on lies, there was something strangely comforting about the idea of having him at her side.

The speech went on, and Y/N kept her face carefully neutral, responding with polite nods when necessary, offering nothing more than smiles. But every now and then, she felt his hand beneath the table, his fingers warm against hers, offering her reassurance in the only way he could.

As the evening progressed, the conversations grew louder, and the guests more animated, and Y/N soon found herself surrounded by a small cluster of nobles—officials from the Autumn Court, with their sharp tongues and inflated egos. The conversations were laced with subtle insults, veiled under layers of politeness.

One of the males—Lord Varin, if she recalled correctly—smiled condescendingly at her. “It must be such a relief to finally find someone of your caliber to marry,” he said, his tone dripping with mock sweetness. “One might say your beauty might be a tad... beneath expectations for such a prestigious family, but I suppose it’s all about making the right connections.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, her hand itching to lash out, but before she could speak, Eris intervened, his voice smooth but sharp.

“Lord Varin, I’m sure your expectations are as distorted as your sense of charm,” Eris said, his words laced with venom. “But, my dear fiancé, has qualities that are far more important than mere appearances. Though, I understand your sudden outburst, considering how such beauty hasn't been found in the Autumn Court in what?...ever. I’d suggest you focus on your own rather than judge hers.”

The sharp retort left Y/N momentarily stunned. Eris had defended her—no hesitation, no flinch. And it wasn’t just an act, she could feel it in his voice, in the protective way he spoke about her.

The evening continued, but as the night wore on, the distance between Y/N and Eris grew. She was soon pulled away by one guest after another, her composure tested with every conversation. She had to smile, nod, and maintain her position, even as the weight of the lies and the unfamiliarity of the situation wore on her.

Finally, just before the evening’s end, Eris stepped forward again, addressing the crowd with that same polished smile, the one that made him seem untouchable.

“My beautiful Amira,” he began, his voice heavy with affection, “we met by chance, but it was fate that made her mine. From the moment I saw her, I knew I had to make her my wife. Tomorrow, we shall be married, and I will call her my beautiful wife from that day forward.”

Y/N froze. Her heart slammed into her chest, her breath catching in her throat. Tomorrow? She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. This wasn’t part of the plan. Tomorrow? Her entire life had been spent in Montesere, surrounded by familiar faces, but now... now she was being torn away, being pushed into a future she hadn’t anticipated.

As the applause echoed around her, Y/N felt the reality of her situation hit her like a cold wave.

And then, as Eris finished his speech, Y/N slipped away into the garden, her thoughts racing. Samira and Nouria were by her side in an instant, following her as she made her way out of the crowd.

“What the hell is going on?” Y/N muttered, her voice a mixture of disbelief and panic. “Tomorrow? He can’t mean it.”

Nouria, always the calm one, glanced at Samira before speaking, her voice quiet but resolute. “You do have to return to the Autumn Court, Amira. The marriage was always part of the plan. It was just a matter of time.”

Y/N stopped in her tracks, the realization hitting her like a bolt of lightning. “I... I have to go back. To the Autumn Court.”

Her voice trembled, a flood of emotions rising in her chest. Her life had been here in Montesere. She had spent years in this land, and now... now she was being pulled away. She hadn’t signed up for this—hadn’t signed up for him. But as she stood there, surrounded by her two closest allies, she knew one thing for certain.

This was just the beginning.

The room smelled of roses, lavender, and something sweet—perhaps a hint of cinnamon—and yet, it was overwhelming. The scent lingered in her senses, filling every breath she took as Nouria and Samira worked around her. They moved with an elegant efficiency, their hands delicate yet firm, as if they had done this a thousand times before.

Y/N sat in front of the grand mirror, staring at her reflection, yet unable to fully focus on it. She barely recognized the face staring back at her—the woman who had to wear a mask today, for a life she never truly chose. Her gown was white, an intricate weave of silks and delicate lace that shimmered under the soft light of the room. It was magnificent—regal, even—but it wasn’t her. It was a costume, a dress to make her fit into a role she wasn’t sure she could ever fully inhabit.

Nouria expertly arranged the cascading waves of Y/N’s hair, twisting them into an elegant updo, while Samira applied makeup with deft precision. They had worked in perfect synchrony, their touches gentle but firm.

Y/N could feel the weight of the occasion pressing against her chest. Her heart was a tangled mess of emotions—fear, anger, confusion. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, trying to calm herself. But now, with the gown hugging her body, with her hair done and her makeup perfect, she realized that all of her preparations were nothing more than a way to shield herself from what was truly happening.

"I won’t go through with this," she whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible.

"You will," Samira said, her tone unwavering.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening around the edge of the chair. She wanted to argue, to scream, to throw it all away and run. She wanted to be free—to live a life not defined by the cruel fate handed to her. She thought of the Night Court, of Azriel. He’s so close. He’s within reach now, she thought bitterly. What if he somehow finds out?

Her chest tightened at the thought, but she shut it down immediately. No. I can’t. I won’t let him know.

He must never know.

She could never let Azriel discover that they were siblings. The bond they shared—the one that whispered between them even across vast distances—terrified her. She was about to walk into the Autumn Court, to be bound to a life that kept her near him but also kept her away. She was closer to him than she had ever been before, and that knowledge gnawed at her every waking moment.

Her heart ached for what could have been—for a life she could never have. She had to keep the truth buried, buried deep inside her.

As Nouria tied the final strand of her hair into place, Y/N swallowed hard, staring at her reflection. She didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her. This isn’t me, she thought. I am not Amira Yasmin Idrissi. I’m not some foreign princess. I am no one, and I will remain that way.

Her gaze drifted to the door. It was time. The day had arrived. She was going to the Autumn Court. Could he ever feel me? Could he ever sense me?

No. I will make sure of it. I will keep my distance, no matter how close I am. Azriel can never know.

A knock at the door startled her from her thoughts. It was followed by the soft, reassuring voice of Nouria, “Amira, it’s time.”

Y/N looked at her reflection one last time. The woman who stared back at her had eyes full of quiet defiance, but also a deep, hollow sadness that she couldn’t erase. With a deep, shaky breath, she nodded. This is for my mother. For security. For the future. She repeated the words in her mind like a mantra.

And then, she stood. The gown fluttered around her feet, its heavy fabric trailing as she took her first step toward the door. No more hesitation. No more fear. She was not Y/N. She was Amira Yasmin Idrissi, the female who had sacrificed everything for the sake of her mother’s memory. And that was enough.

Eris stood before the mirror, dressed in his formal wedding attire, the rich fabric of his tunic dark against his skin. His reflection was flawless—sharp features, tousled hair, and the same intense golden eyes that seemed to always reflect his turbulent emotions. But today, something was missing. Something he couldn’t quite place.

He watched as his servants finished fastening the final pieces of his ceremonial armor, each movement executed with precision.

As he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, the air around him shimmered, and without warning, four envelopes appeared before him, each one glowing faintly with magic. His eyes narrowed. Letters. At this hour?

The envelopes spun in the air for a moment, suspended before him. They were each stamped with the insignia of different courts.

The first was Summer, its wax seal an intricate sunburst that gleamed brightly even in the dim light of his chambers. The second was Winter, its icy blue seal contrasting sharply with the warmth of the room. The third was his father’s seal—Autumn—bold and unmistakable, and the last... Night Court.

He sighed, irritated, and plucked the letter from the Autumn Court first, knowing full well it would be from his father. The harsh scent of pine and smoke seemed to rise from the paper as his eyes scanned the contents.

Eris,

I trust you’ve kept to your word and made the right choice. The news of your engagement has already been sent to all of the High Lords. They are eager to see the new alliance solidified. As for your bride—this “unknown relative” of princess Leone's—while Montesere is a fine match for our interests, I’ll reserve judgment until I meet her myself. I expect you to return home soon so we can discuss this further.

I’ve already sent the messengers. Everyone knows.

His fingers clenched around the parchment. His father’s words were as cold as ever, filled with subtle judgment and that ever-present air of control. Of course, Beron had already told everyone. He always had to be the one to make the announcement. Always had to ensure his name was on everyone’s lips. Eris scowled, tossing the letter aside.

His hands reached for the next letter—the one from Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court.

Eris,

I’ve heard the news of your engagement to a foreign princess from Montesere. Didn’t quite see you as the type to fall for a female from there, but my congratulations. When you return, I’d like to meet the new bride at some point. A few questions I’d like to ask. Be careful though, I've seen that marriages in politics don’t always go as planned. But, of course, I’m sure you know that.

Eris slammed the letter against the desk in frustration. Rhysand. That smug bastard. He couldn’t even wait until the damn wedding was over to make his move. The letter dripped with condescension, as though Rhysand somehow thought he had control over the situation. His congratulations. As if this were a casual affair.

Eris’ jaw tightened. He hated Rhysand with every fiber of his being, and now this?

The last thing he needed today was to deal with that arrogant bastard.

Finally, Eris turned his attention to the remaining letters—the ones from Summer and Winter. But his mind was elsewhere, caught in a storm of thoughts about the marriage, about the bride he was about to meet at the altar, and about everything he had to do to secure his future. He didn’t care about the High Lords or their games. All of this... all of it... was a necessary step in his plan.

With a grim expression, he stood and moved toward the door. He had his role to play, his duty to fulfill. He would do what needed to be done.

The heavy oak doors swung open.

Eris barely noticed the murmurs from the gathered guests, the low hum of anticipation that filled the grand hall. His eyes were fixed entirely on her. On her.

The moment she stepped into view, everything else in the world seemed to fade away. Y/N, in her wedding gown, moved with the fluidity of a dream, her long, dark veil trailing like a shadow behind her. The gown itself shimmered as it caught the light, delicate lace and crystals woven into a masterpiece that made the very air seem to hold its breath.

Her footsteps were slow, measured—each one deliberate, graceful, as if she were moving through time itself. She wasn’t walking toward him, not yet. She was walking toward something much bigger, something far beyond their fleeting connection. But, in this moment, Eris could feel the pull, as if the universe itself had shifted, and there was no longer a choice but to follow.

Her beauty was unlike anything he’d ever seen. It was the kind of beauty that left one gasping for air, unable to look away, as though to do so would be to break the delicate spell she cast with every step. The curve of her waist, the soft fall of her hair—her features perfectly sculpted, but not in a way that seemed artificial. No. She was untouchable. She was ethereal.

Her eyes were downcast at first, lips pressed together in a serene but unreadable expression. But as she drew closer, as the tension in the room thickened with every step she took toward him, something shifted in her gaze. She glanced up, meeting his eyes for the briefest moment. And then, she looked away, as if even her gaze upon him was something too fragile to withstand.

Eris' heart stuttered. This was it.

Her gown fluttered against the cool stone floors as she took another step. The distance between them felt impossibly vast, even as she was mere feet away. His pulse quickened. She can’t marry me. He could hardly comprehend what was happening. She couldn’t possibly belong to him. She couldn’t belong to anyone. She had too much fire, too much life within her to be chained to something as empty as this marriage. But then again, what choice did they have?

The moment stretched on, as if the room itself was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable to unfold.

Every step felt like it was being measured by the gods themselves. The air in the hall was heavy, suffocating even, and Y/N could feel her pulse thundering in her chest, the rhythm of it too loud in her ears. Her gown, so beautiful and pristine, seemed to drag behind her, the soft lace brushing the floor with every delicate movement.

This is it. This is the moment.

Her veil—fragile, soft, like a barrier between her and the reality she was stepping into—gently swayed with each step. The weight of it settled on her shoulders, pulling her down, reminding her that this was the life she had chosen. Or rather, the life that had been chosen for her.

She had never imagined a wedding like this. She had never imagined him. She had never imagined herself here, standing in front of a sea of unfamiliar faces, moving toward a stranger she barely knew.

Her heart ached with a dull, unspoken grief. Her family, her home, her past… everything was slipping through her fingers, and now, it was just her—the princess.

Her eyes, for a moment, flickered toward the man standing at the altar.

Eris.

Her breath caught in her throat as she saw him for the first time since the ceremony began. His face was expressionless, his posture perfect. But his eyes… Gods, those eyes.

He was watching her with an intensity that nearly made her falter. The way he looked at her made her feel both seen and desired at the same time.

Focus, Y/N. You are here for the safety. For your mother. For the future. She repeated the words to herself like a mantra. You cannot falter now.

She could feel the pull of his gaze—unwavering, unwavering—and it was enough to bring everything else to a standstill. And yet, the closer she got, the more the heaviness in her chest seemed to grow. Every step toward him felt like a step away from herself.

The world seemed to grow quieter, more distant, until all she could hear was the pounding of her own heartbeat. This is it. The last step. The last time.

Her hand was cool when it settled into his, a perfect contrast to the warmth of his own. He could feel the slight tremble in her fingers, the subtle way she pulled her hand back, almost as if she were already stepping away. It didn’t go unnoticed, and something deep within him twisted at the thought.

The priest—someone Y/N had likely known her entire life, someone she trusted—stepped forward, his voice reverberating across the hall. “We are gathered here today in the sight of the gods, to unite Princess Amira Yasmin Idrissi of Montesere and Lord Eris Vanserra of Autumn. Let us now speak your vows.”

Y/N’s voice was soft but steady as she began, her eyes never leaving the floor. “I, Amira Yasmin Idrissi, promise to be your partner in all things. To share in the joys and the sorrows. To remain steadfast, even when the winds of fate blow hardest against us. I vow to protect what we have, even when the world itself conspires against us.”

Her words hung in the air, suspended between them, heavy with meaning. Eris couldn’t help but notice the way she didn’t speak from the heart. It wasn’t a vow born of love or even genuine affection—it was a vow of duty, of obligation. She had made her choice.

Her voice faltered, and in that instant, something inside of him broke. He squeezed her hand, a small gesture, but one that said more than a thousand words ever could.

Y/N’s eyes snapped to his, and he could see the hesitation there—the uncertainty. 

She had no more fight left in her.

The words left her lips before she could even truly understand them. They felt hollow, like echoes from a distant world. She was giving herself away. Her final remnants of freedom, of hope. The last fragments of the female she had once been.

But the moment Eris squeezed her hand, something changed. A warmth, unexpected, bloomed in her chest. A connection she hadn’t known was there.

His gaze, so fierce, so unwavering, held hers. And for the first time since she had stepped into this hall, she no longer felt alone.

She felt his thumb brush lightly across her hand, a quiet acknowledgment. And for the briefest moment, she didn’t feel the weight of the gown, the veil, the responsibilities pressing down on her.

In that moment, the world around them faded away. All that existed was her and him.

But suddenly, the priest’s voice echoed in the room once more, “Now, you may kiss the bride.”

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Taglist: @batboyslutt @k-godling @littowl @jaybbygrl @kissesfromnovalie @talesofadragon @tele86

[reblogandlikes]

Is Prythian the NC now?

One of the first oddest things in ACOSF during that crappy intervention is Feyre (Rhysand) and Co. having the audacity in thinking they have any right to give the ultimatum that they did. Sure, you can kick Nesta out of the NC, but to think you could banish her to the human lands? I'm sorry, the rest of Prythian is still quite there.

Nesta could have had 6 (5 if we dont put another Archeron on poor Tamlin) other courts to choose from and they would have most likely taken her. But then the Cauldron made fae would be in another’s hand. And if she isn't in the NC, she's better of dead because she's a potential threat if she ever turns against them. Big no no. 'We can't lose our weapon that we could potentially emotionally control.

Nesta is meant to be smarter. Why didn't she question this just as she almost called out Amren for the lie that so-call attached Nesta to the NC (she's attached, but the girl was never paid for her efforts)?

The other option was even presented again with Eris' proposal. Hell, even Helion likes her. Her "choices" were deliberately narrowed into two paths and it's stupid.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

A New Dawn | Eris x Reader

Summary: Feyre grows closer to you, a close friend of Lucien’s, as you visit him while she’s in Spring Court. During that time, she learns of you being given to Eris as a servant by Amarantha, but no one could’ve suspected how deep the relationship between you and the Autumn Court heir went.

Word Count: ~ 1.1k

Warnings: Mentions of slavery, tyranny, pregnancy, also this entire fic is mainly in Feyre’s perspective btw

A/N: This is actually my first attempt at writing for Eris (all bc of a cute request), but if you like it then lmk and I might try more, hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

Feyre Archeron first met you at Tamlin’s manor, when she was still stuck as a human in a land of immortals that were trapped and bound by Amarantha. She’d been taking a walk through the house with Lucien, him explaining all the paintings in the gallery’s old, dusty collection that he knew of, and her eagerly listening, wanting to scrape up any lick of knowledge she could get.

That was when she’d seen you, coming from Tamlin’s office, him grave-faced and you just looking sad. You saw Lucien and perked up a bit, and he eagerly pulled you into his arms and held you.

“Who is..?”

Feyre spoke, trailing off at the silent tears you shed while Lucien held you close, his face buried in your shoulder. When you finally pulled away, the fiery male wiped your tears away with his thumb and glanced towards Feyre, you also looked at her.

“Y/N, this is Feyre, Feyre, this is Y/N.”

He said simply, a bit of his usual charm lacking because of the raw emotion in his tone. Feyre hadn’t known then why you’d been wide-eyed looking at her, turning to Tamlin and whispering some questions her human hearing couldn’t pick up, but she now knew exactly why you’d been shocked to find a human there during that time.

She was the cursebreaker, and you’d suspected that she would be the one from the moment you saw her.

You eventually had to leave, with whispered words to Lucien and more silent tears, before you had mounted a horse, even though running would be faster, and ventured back off to Under the Mountain.

“Where is she going?”

Feyre had asked Lucien. The male had only shook his head.

“Under the Mountain. She was..gifted to my brother as his servant, and she’s stuck there.”

He said, sentences carefully worded in the true manner of the fox-like male. Feyre found that horrifying, the thought of being gifted to a male, forced to serve him and do gods know what for him, being stuck there and only able to leave by delivering messages to other Courts. If only she knew the truth.

However, you sometimes got excuses or reasons to leave and stay at Spring longer than necessary, and you became a sort of salvation for Feyre. You would take her out into Spring Court to your favorite bakery, or the shops that were open at the time. Even when she asked, you never had a good reason for why some were closed, nor did Tamlin.

You slowly spent more time together, and she told you of her sisters, of Nesta’s hostility, Elain’s love for gardening and the flowers she’d grow with the spare change they had after selling skins, or how she grew up hunting. In exchange, you would tell Feyre all about your life growing up, how you and Lucien had been in the same age group and because of your High Fae status, you’d been friends for centuries.

“I’ll see you next visit,”

You would tell her every time, but this time seemed different. It seemed more like a final farewell. She gave a concerned look.

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know, but I hope I see you again.”

It turned out that the next time you saw her was when you had a leash around your neck like a dog, Eris holding the chain to the collar as you both watched Feyre fight for her life in the challenges Amarantha proposed to her.

“Do you think she’ll live?”

You’d asked him quietly, and Eris had responded point-blank.

“No.”

But the glimmer of hope in his eyes as he glanced at you, a silent apology promising a future together if this human did manage to free you, a future where you weren’t chained and he wasn’t trapped.

Well, you’d almost gotten that when Feyre had given her life to free Prythian’s people, and come back as High Fae. Almost, but not quite.

“Just a little longer, darling, I promise.”

He would murmur to you every night as you had to act as his servant, attend to his every need, and act like the two of you weren’t painfully in love every day and night. That was, until, the night Beron was assassinated, shot dead with an ash arrow right through his black, soulless heart during a private conference between him and some higher-up you hadn’t bothered to learn the name of.

The next time Feyre had seen you, she’d been accompanied by Nyx and Rhys, Nyx on her hip as the other High Lords idly chattered, most of which were interested in how Eris would handle being High Lord of Autumn. Even more surprising, you’d been labeled High Lady of Autumn not shortly after.

They were still in for plenty of shock when you and Eris walked in, and the scent of budding, growing life spread through the room. Rhysand recognized it instantly, and the tiny bump on your stomach told everyone else what it was as well, not to mention the smug, satisfied face of Eris, clearly filled with pure male pride at his mate being pregnant.

“Oh wow, so you two were..?”

Feyre asked you while you chatted with her.

“We’ve been mates since before Amarantha, but we didn’t want to say because of Beron, then everything happened…it was a whole mess, but we worked it out.”

You replied with a warm smile on your face, one hand on your stomach. Rhys still seemed wary of Eris, rightfully so, but after seeing how the fiery male didn’t seem as conniving or rude, or even like the Eris he’d known for centuries at the meeting all because of his pregnant wife, or maybe because he didn’t have to play the role as the unassuming heir anymore, his mindset was slowly starting to change.

“Congratulations,”

Rhys had said to you and Eris, a slight genuine smile tugging at his lips as he’d patted Eris on the back, at which the other male stiffened slightly, but didn’t seem overly hostile.

Back at the townhouse, both having glasses of wine and idly sipping on them, Nyx already asleep, Feyre and Rhys chatted.

“I think they’re cute together,”

She said with a smile. Rhys chuckled lightly, shaking his head in amusement.

“She mellowed him out, for sure. I’m glad, I don’t think they could deal with another sassy High Lord out there other than me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Really, though. They’re cute.”

Rhys let out a little hum of thought, before nodding.

“They are.”

[acourtofthought]

An Elucien book could possibly have -

A post in collaboration with @crazy-ache @zenkindoflove @goghwilde @starsreminisce

Lucien telling Elain stories about her father

Vassa telling Elain stories about her father

Elain becoming an owl shifter

Elucien performing in the Great Rite.

The LoA falling in love with Elain after never having had a daughter and Elain falling in love with her, finally having a maternal figure who sees the strength she possesses

Elain and Lucien outsmarting Koschei with their intelligence.

Elain and Lucien being able to open up to one another about their first loves that were then lost and the depression they experienced as a result

Band of Exiles sass

Helion's excitement over Elain being a conversationalist just like him

A smutty scene with Elucien against a tree

A smutty scene with Elucien in a field of flowers

A smutty scene where Lucien shows Elain just how good he really is with that mouth when he's using it for something other than talking

Elain helping Lucien through his guilt, helping him see that he is not to blame for Jesminda's death.

Lucien being able to stop Beron from harming Elain after not being able to do the same for Jesminda.

Lucien looking over to see Elain wearing the pearl earrings he gifted her.

Lucien looking over to see Elain wearing only the pearl earrings he gifted her.

Lucien looking over to see Elain wearing only the pearl earrings he gifted her and his jacket.

Elain curing the illness plaguing the Pegasus foals

Elain breaking Vassa's curse

Lucien demonstrating exactly why Azriel would not in fact defeat him with little effort

Elain admitting to Lucien that she was angry with how perfect his first Solstice gift to her was when she was trying to fight the pull she had to him

Elain telling Lucien that she was angry at herself for feeling disloyal to Graysen when she first met his eye and found him the most handsome thing she had ever seen.

Lucien being delighted to find that after the many months of Elain keeping herself at a distance by not talking, she has the ability to put him in his place with her verbal sparring.

Elain and Lucien playing practical jokes on Jurian

Elain restoring the people of Springs faith in it's leadership, whoever that maybe be.

Elain creating life like Isabela Madrigal, Te Fiti, or Cthona

Lucien coming into his own High Lord power and becoming a force to be reckoned with.

Elain telling Graysen he never deserved her.

Lucien and Eris resolving their past / brother bonding.

Lucien and Eris defeating Beron and finally avenging their mother and Jesminda.

Elain hugging Eris which might be the first hug he's been given in a very long time

Elain and Lucien feeding treats to the Pegasus

Elain and Lucien feeding treats to the smoke-hounds

Elain and Lucien riding on a horse together

Elain and Lucien riding on a Pegasus

Lucien's first hug with his mother in centuries

Elain and Lucien visiting Helion's libraries to do research

Lucien surprising Elain with a visit to the tulip fields in the continent. When she turns to him in delight and surprise she'll ask him how he knew. Lucien will tell her that her father told him, that he wanted to take her one day but since he no longer could, Lucien wanted to fulfill both of their dreams.

The reader once again getting a glimpse into Elain's mind but this time, the buds are in full bloom after accepting her mating bond.

Lucien having learned of human customs and getting down on one knee to propose to Elain.

[jules-writes-stories]

Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows

Azriel x Eris

Chapter 21 on AO3

“Why did you ask for Nesta’s hand in the Hewn City that night? Even knowing you were mated to Azriel?” Cassian asked the question with open curiosity, but underneath was the inevitable edge of possession that came with any mating bond. 

Eris sighed, wondering how honest he should be with the Night Court general. They were allies, yet he could not leave and was accused of possibly breaking their laws. 

So, the viper chose what he knew best: half-truths. “I simply did what Rhysand expected of me. And I wanted this alliance.” 

The heir continued, “I considered my options. I need an ally for when I ascend to High Lord. Nesta is powerful, beautiful, and clever. She can play the game. And your High Lord and brother offered her to me on a silver platter. Meanwhile, my mating bond is not…” Eris swallowed and turned to glance out the window again, “is not feasible.” 

“That’s so cold, so calculated.” Cassian shook his head. 

Eris saw the judgment in Cassian's eyes and felt a familiar flicker of flames itching at his palms. He banked it. What this male did not know, the truth that the fireling buried, was that he had felt utterly rejected. He’d grown tired of being Azriel’s dirty secret, a mate that this family would revile, one to elicit pity from the Shadowsinger’s friends. And in a moment of loneliness, of scheming, Eris had wondered if there could be a genuine camaraderie between himself and Nesta Archeron, a chance at true companionship between equals.

“Perhaps general. But no more so than your best friend and brother using your mate as a cheap enticement. At least my proposal was in earnest. I offered Nesta a position of honor, power, and protection. Rhysand waggled her before me like a piece of meat, only to pull her away.” Autumn’s prince watched as his words sank in and struck something raw. He had no desire to come between the Illyrian brothers, nor sow discord within their Inner Circle, but he was tired of being the Night Court's villain and puppet. 

“Besides,” Eris sauntered over and sat across from Cassian. He lounged in a way that made his lithe body appear predatory, ready to pounce, and murmured, “The joke is on all of you. I’m not even attracted to females. The marriage would have been in name only.” 

The fireling looked straight at the Night Court general and sighed. “I also had no idea you were interested in her like that. At least, not until you made it very known with your grunting and your stink.” 

Cassian ground his teeth, ready to interject, when Eris conceded, “And I was distracted as well.” 

The Autumn male smiled earnestly at the memory of Cassian, feral with jealousy in the early throes of a mating bond, stalking them all over the dance floor. How uncharacteristically oblivious Eris was initially due to his own Illyrian mate, whose eyes he kept trying to meet. What a disaster that night had been.  

Cassian must have relived similar memories as he shook his head and chuckled. “Nes still refers to you as her best dance partner, but claims she could smell Azriel all over you and knew you were mates.” The Illyrian laughed then, a loud, raucous sound, at Eris’s face. 

The Autumn male’s skin had flushed at the memory of the Shadowsinger, pushing him into an alcove of the Hewn City just an hour before the Solstice Ball, how he had roughly handled Eris, and how Eris had pulled and scratched and bit him back. They rarely spoke each other’s names in the first years of the bond. Brat, brute, Shadowsinger, fireling…

They'd fucked fast and hard, and usually from behind, in dark corners of the world. It had been a heartbreaking pleasure.

And so different from their recent times together— tasting each other’s lips, watching pleasure unfold in the other’s face, whispering words of praise and affection. This softness between them was so new, so fragile, and now at risk. 

“Azriel believes you.” Cassian’s voice was clear and somber, bringing Eris away from his thoughts.

@the-darkestminds @fieldofdaisiies @c-starstuff-man0 @chunkypossum @futurehunt @talibunny30 @molcat07 @seihdacalling @mistandmemories @unanswered-stars @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @going-through-shit @yanny-77 @lilah-asteria

[starsreminisce]

Day 5: Connections

@elainarcheronweek-main / @elainarcheronweek

Azriel said quietly, “We are weakened—all seven courts. Even more at odds with each other and with the rest of the world since the war. If Montesere and Vallahan march on us, if Rask joins with them, we will not withstand it. Not with Beron already turned against us and allied with Briallyn. Not if Tamlin cannot master his guilt and grief and become what he once was.”

Elain has consistently been portrayed as possessing a strength different from her sisters, and I hope that this unique strength—her ability to see the world with hope, despite how much it has tried to break her—proves to be exactly what’s needed to help address the issues Azriel pointed out for the Night Court.

In ACOSF, Nesta burned the bridge with Eris by rejecting his proposal, and she successfully scared off Tamlin by merely pointing her "death" finger at him. Given her last argument with Rhys, I doubt Nesta will be interested in dealing with the Night Court's current concerns.

This, however, opens the door for Elain to step up and prove her place in the Court.

The treaty is a major issue, and Elain has already shown that she can charm guests while hosting. Considering how she secured Graysen, a prominent lord’s son, for a marriage proposal, I can imagine her presence in the human social scene would be invaluable. She has shown that she can reintegrate herself back into society and I am excited to see her being able to mingle with her peers again, especially now that she has a newfound appreciation and insight towards the fae.

Tamlin is still a lingering issue. Elain has a clear connection to Spring, with both sisters commenting that she seems made for it. While I don’t believe she will end up in Spring permanently, I love the idea of her undertaking a significant project to help restore it. I also hope we see her further explore her magical abilities, perhaps playing a role in restoring Prison Island and The Middle.

The bargain between Eris and Rhys remains another concern. Eris held up his end, and Beron hasn’t been deterred by Briallyn’s defeat. Elain would thrive here, using her ability to charm and persuade with ease. It would be exciting to see her navigate a court full of foxes, outmaneuvering those with her intelligence and social skills.

Elain’s different strengths have always been highlighted, and it feels like those strengths are the key to solving these specific problems. We’ve been given puzzle pieces of her personality, and it seems that these missing pieces are what the Night Court needs.

After all, as Feyre said: what is an emissary if not also a spymaster?

[sunshinebingo]

@gwynweekofficial Day 5 - Powers

Synopsis: Gwyn gets frustrated during her lesson with Lucien as he tries to teach her to control her fire. It turns out that her biggest distraction is not her friends talking nearby, but the arrival of a certain Shadowsinger. Alternative summary:- Literal sparks fly when Gwyn stares at the Shadowsinger. Word Count: 1.5k

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

Gwyn held in a groan and focused on her hand again. Her shirt was stuck to her skin from all the sweat, most of which was not from the afternoon sun. A few tendrils of hair had escaped her high ponytail and were stuck to her neck and forehead.

“Don’t allow whatever you are feeling to overwhelm you,” Lucien reminded her from where he sat cross-legged across from her.

“I’m trying,” she retorted. She was not angry at him. But at the fact that she had been trying to master this basic exercise for the past two hours and yet she hadn’t gotten much closer to controlling her power. Causing a forest fire was far too easy compared to summoning the small flame that Lucien had been trying to get out of her.

Although one never stopped learning and improving, Gwyn had successfully tackled every technique she had learned during the Valkyries’ physical and mental training. Even mind stilling now came as natural to her as existing. But learning to control her newfound magic was harder than she had expected. She had certainly not assumed that it would be easy-peasy. But she did not think that learning to tame it on such a small scale would be harder than unleashing it.

Lucien had told her when he had proposed to teach her to use her Autumn powers that it would be take time, effort and patience, and that her emotions would sometimes be her worst enemy. But it had been months since Gwyn had let herself be deterred by any possible obstacle. Learning to use her powers was not only for herself after all but for the safety of everyone around her. The circumstances in which such powers had awoken in her were a solid proof of that. It had also given her a taste of the weapon that ran through her veins. It was a wonder. But a hazardous one. One that she was desperately trying to learn how to control.

“Try harder,” Lucien said. She was so tired right now that his calm demeanour was somehow annoying her even more. Even the conversation between her sisters, Cassian and Elain on the veranda behind the River House had become harder to tune out. Nesta and Emerie, who had insisted on being present today to encourage her, had quickly found something more interesting to do. Gorging themselves in tea and Elain’s pastries was undoubtedly more fun than watching her achieve nothing.

“Why don’t you do it,” Gwyn snapped, her rising temper causing flames to erupt on the tips of her fingers.

Lucien threw her that mischievous smirk that was sort of a signature expression for Eris and him. Gwyn wondered if she had also inherited that specific look from them.

She realised how stupid it was to challenge a veteran fire wielder when a rope of flame formed around Lucien’s arm without him having to expose his hand like she was still doing. The rope grew bigger and brighter, until it expanded in a dome of heatless flames around the both of them.

“Show off” Gwyn muttered loud enough for him to hear.

Lucien chuckled and sucked his fire back in.

“You fire freaks are okay over there?” Cassian asked from where he was lounging in his chair, his feet up and resting on Nesta's thighs.

Elain swatted Cassian’s shoulder with a napkin. “Be nice, Cass.”

He put his hands up in front of him. “I’m always nice.”

Emerie and Nesta snorted in unison, winning themselves a scowl from the general. What followed was a semi heated back and forth among the four of them about showing support, burnt fighting leathers and other things that did not all make much sense.

“You’ll get there, Gwyn.” Lucien pulled her attention back to him. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Gwyn gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

He smiled back. “There’s no need to thank me. I couldn’t leave you to Eris without the risk of you two burning Prythian to the ground.”

Gwyn threw her head back and laughed. She squared her shoulders and breathed deeply before she extended her hand again. Just when she thought that was ready to focus, the biggest distraction of all magically appeared on the lawn in a cloud of black smoke.

Azriel stepped out of his shadows and into the afternoon light. He looked like he had just battled a shark with his black shirt soaking wet and sticking to him like a second skin. His pants were in a similar state, outlining every inch of his strong legs and thighs.

“How did the encounter with the leviathan go, brother?” Cassian loudly asked as soon as he dragged his eyes away from the females at his side and spotted the Shadowsinger.

“Fine,” Azriel mumbled in response.

He brought his hands to his back and took his shirt off in one fluid motion before throwing it carelessly on the grass. This left his tanned, tattooed chest on display. A few droplets of water escaped the strands of his wet, dishevelled hair and dripped onto his shoulder. Gwyn’s eyes followed them as they ran down his chest, lower and lower. From where she sat on the ground, she couldn’t help but notice how Azriel’s form was gilded by the sunlight even with the shadows wreathing around him.

“Hey, Berdara.” He winked and smiled at her with a warmth that rivalled any fire. Or perhaps it was her own blood that had suddenly risen in temperature. Something prickled the palm of her hand from within.

Gwyn didn’t know if the smile she had intended on giving him in return had actually spread out on her lips, nor if the words that she had wanted to say had come out or were still dangling on the tip of her open mouth.

Azriel dipped his head in Lucien’s direction as he walked past them and towards the veranda. Gwyn did not notice Lucien’s amused look directed at her since her own eyes were still glued on the Shadowsinger. When he stopped by the others, Azriel reached down on the table to grab a pastry, his arm and back muscles rippling from the movement. Her skin flushed further from the increasing heat and her extended hand started tingling.

“You want some tea, Az?” Emerie offered.

“No thanks,” he said around a mouthful. His fingers glistened from the syrup that coated his pastry. Gwyn was so focused on those glistening scarred fingers that she did not feel the increased tingling in her own hand. She did not hear Lucien calling her name either.

“I need a stronger drink,” Azriel added before he made his way inside the house. Gwyn’s eyes were on his backside when Lucien snapped his fingers in front of her face. Gwyn blinked for the first time in a while and turned at him.

“What-”

A firework suddenly exploded in Gwyn’s extended hand. She yelped at the abrupt sparks that flew in all directions, one of which went straight forward and –

“Oh shit,” Gwyn exclaimed, closing her hand into a fist and bringing it to her chest.

Lucien was frozen in front of her, his mouth agape, his eyes wide, and…a tendril of smoke fading away from the strand of his hair that had just been burned by Gwyn’s fire.

The garden went quiet for the few seconds it took for everyone to process what just happened. Until the silence was broken by Cassian’s boisterous laugh. It was soon echoed by Nesta and Emerie, even Elain who had quickly recovered from the initial shock.

Gwyn winced when Lucien brought his hand to the shortened section of hair that fell in front of his face.

“Sorry Elain,” Gwyn said to the female who was trying to conceal her laughter by stuffing her face with orange cake.

Lucien looked at Gwyn in puzzlement. “I’m sorry. You’re sorry for Elain?”

Gwyn shrugged, all traces of frustration replaced by amusement, and a little guilt as well. “She’s the one who likes it the most.”

Elain coughed as she swallowed but ended up giggling. Beside her, Cassian was on the floor holding his side as he laughed.

“Gwyneth –”

“No one will notice if you braid it,” Gwyn cut Lucien off. She grabbed the burnt strand and twisted it to prove her point. “See?”

Lucien only stared at her. “I will braid your limbs together.”

Gwyn placed her hands in her lap and pursed her lips to stop herself from smiling at the sight of the small section of twisted hair that was already unravelling.

“I won’t do it again,” she promised when he said nothing. “Pinkie promise,” she added, lifting her little finger between them. She did not know what had caused it but for Lucien’s sake, and everyone else, she would find out and prevent it from happening.

Lucien let out a heavy sigh and shook his head with a huff. He stood.

“Lucien, I’m sorry,” Gwyn said as she followed him.

“I know Valkyrie.” He chuckled. He sighed again and brushed his hair back. “I also need a drink.”

[dawneternal]

Take the World in Your Hands | Eris x Elain | Two

Summary: Eris's brothers catch wind of his proposal to Nesta. They plan to find and deliver her to their father as a gift, surely winning his favor. Their plan takes a turn when they kidnap the wrong Archeron sister and Eris finds her in the Autumn Court dungeon.

All aboard the crack ship???

Warnings: some descriptions of wounds and scars

Ao3 link / Masterlist

Word Count: 3.3k

Eris awoke to the morning sun pouring gold over his body and into his eyes. He blinked hard, the harsh light adding to the pounding in his head. He brought a hand up to block the sun, startled by the pain of his fingertips brushing bruises and cuts. The stretch of his side as he lifted his arm drew a sharp pain from his ribs.

It took a moment to remember where he was. Why he was laying on the floor of his cabin, the rigid floorboards aiding the overall pain blooming through his being. A pillow had been tucked under his head and two blankets around his body, though they offered little comfort. The bloody mess from last night had been cleared away, his cut up jacket and Elain's ragged dress draped over kitchen chairs to dry.

Eris's eyes dragged through the room, looking for the middle Archeron sister. He found her curled up on one of the sofas, a quilt pulled tightly around herself. Her eyes were closed but the expression on her face was not particularly peaceful. It prickled at his conscious, wondering if she was in pain.

His gaze drifted toward the other couch, perpendicular to Elain. It was looking much more inviting than the floor.

Eris found that he could sit up, but not without a loud, involuntary groan of pain. Elain's eyes fluttered open at the sound, brows furrowing in worry.

"Don't move," She said, her voice raspy from sleep. Eris did not obey, crawling slowly across the floor and up to the other sofa.

"The floor does not feel good," He said, breathing heavily from pain and exertion.

"Neither would your wound reopening," Elain scolded. She tossed back the covers and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Eris settled on the couch, letting his body sink into the cushions, and studied Elain while he caught his breath. Elain stretched while she scowled back at him. Her hair was still damp from a bath, freshly braided out of her face, and she wore one of Eris's tunics as a nightgown. The morning light clung to her golden-brown hair as if it adored her. It shimmered in her hazel eyes, igniting them with gentle fire.

Elain broke from his stare and made her way to the kitchen, a pair of Eris's socks slouching around her ankles. She filled the kettle and set it on the stove, retrieving another pot and spoon from nearby. The kitchen was enchanted, anything cooked in it took half the time it usually needed. But it seemed particularly eager to please Elain, boiling her water in a handful of minutes, a savory scent filling the cabin from the other pot.

Each of the Archeron sisters had been gifted their own shade of beauty. In between their matching features were little things that made them their own being. Feyre's beauty was warm and strong, Nesta's all sharpness and ferocity. Elain was a little of both, all soft curves and sweet features, with a wild gleam beneath it all that threatened to bite. It was the Kingslayer, that lay underneath.

Elain shuffled back to the sitting area and placed a cup of tea before him on the coffee table before shuffling away again. She returned a moment later with two bowls of porridge. But she didn't hand one to him, yet. She stood above him by the couch, staring down with a hardened expression as she said,

"I would like some answers."

Something in that look told him that her kindness had a limit. If he pushed, she'd have no qualms leaving him to his own devices. Which could be a problem, considering that Eris tended to have a difficult time knowing when to stop.

"Answers to what, littlest Archeron?" He asked, glancing at the bowls in her hands.

"I'm not the littlest," Elain said, a hint of indignation in her voice, "Feyre's the youngest."

"Is she?" Eris laughed, melodic and sharp, "I would not have guessed. She has the audacity of an oldest sibling."

"I'm in the middle," Elain shoved one of the bowls toward him and returned to her couch, pulling the quilt over her lap. Putting distance between them.

"What answers would you like, Middle Archeron?"

"Why did your brothers kidnap me?" There was no amusement anywhere on her face.

"Ah. I believe they found out about my proposal to Nesta," His smile faded.

"You proposed to Nesta?" Elain whispered, eyes widening. Her spoon paused halfway to her bowl.

"She didn't tell you that? I thought you were there, that night."

"What does your proposal have to do with me?" Elain ignored his question. So he had seen her at the Hewn City, he just hadn't known her name. She had only been meant to stand there and look pretty, after all.

"I believe they intended to tell my father this 'secret' and deliver Nesta to him as a sort of gift. Apparently, the attention to detail between them is severely lacking and they did not remember which one of you is Nesta."

"Why did you save me?" Elain shuddered, her mind drifting toward whatever they had planned to do with her. Their taunts through the iron bars of what their father had in store.

"As much of a headache as the Archeron sisters tend to be, no one deserves to suffer at their hands." There was an angry flame in Eris's eyes. Any teasing or playfulness had melted away. "Tell me what they did to you."

Elain bit her lip, eyes flicking over the pink scars on his torso. They had been inflicted recently enough that they had not blended into his skin tone yet. She swallowed before answering.

"I can't say I was handled very gently, but they did not hurt me. They seemed to be saving that honor for your father."

The fire in Eris's eyes burned brighter at that. He closed his eyes, stoking the flames, and leaned his head back against the arm of the couch.

"They will all be lucky if they survive the consequences of this." Eris murmured, his voice like tendrils of dark smoke. A silence settled for a long moment, Elain poking at the porridge left in her bowl.

"What happens now?" She asked, keeping her voice soft, as though doing otherwise would rouse his power again.

"It will take a few days for my magic to return enough to winnow very far," Eris said, "But then I'll take you back to the Night Court. I don't think it's possible for anyone to come and get you without rousing suspicion or causing trouble."

Elain scowled in spite of herself, shoulders stiffening. Eris's gaze swept over her, analyzing every feature, deciding which of his words had bothered her. Such discontent on her pretty face.

"You...don't want to go back to the Night Court?" He asked, bemused.

"I just don't want to be there at the moment," Elain looked down at her half-eaten breakfast, "There was a sort of falling out before I was taken."

"Do indulge me," Eris prodded, not even attempting to hide his desire for gossip. He settled further into the couch, preparing for a good story.

"I don't believe you're authorized to hear Night Court secrets," The scowl returned. A hint of the bite beneath the softness. He liked it.

"I see," Eris poked his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.

"They must not know I'm gone yet or they'd have found us already," Elain ignored him.

"They value you very highly, then," Eris prodded, secretly relishing in the idea of anyone from the inner circle finding her here, wearing his shirt. Though perhaps it was for the best that they didn't. He was in no shape to fight for his life, no matter how entertaining it would be.

"They don't value me, they think I'm helpless. That's different." The bitterness in her voice pulled him from his daydream. There was deep hurt in her eyes.

"And yet you were alone when you were taken, and no one has noticed you're gone?"

Elain shrugged, still not looking at him. "I saw it coming in a vision but I couldn't stop it. They shouldn't have been able to winnow there, anyways. It must have been some kind of loophole."

"They've never trained you in anything? To defend yourself?" Eris asked, prying into the source of that bitterness unapologetically. He did not know if it was for her or for himself.

"No one's ever asked if I wanted to," She met his eyes, something dismal in her expression. Something almost hopeless. "I don't want to be a warrior, but I wouldn't have minded learning something."

Eris was quiet for a moment, considering. He put his empty bowl on the table and took a sip of tea.

"If you want to make them worry, you can stay a few extra days." His lips curled into a grin. A grin very similar to Rhys's, precise and nearly feline. Something a little wicked to its curve. Nothing like Cassian's grin, wild and untamed, bursting with joy.

"I don't want them to worry, exactly," Elain sighed, "I just...."

Eris was studying her again, relentless in his scrutiny. Perhaps Elain would have minded less if his observations weren't so accurate.

"No, not worry," Eris drawled, wicked smile returning, "You want them to feel jealous."

Elain flushed and pursed her lips. He was not wrong, and she did not care for it. But she, too, has pictured the inner circle's faces if they had caught her here. Innocent Elain in the clutches of Eris the rake.

"I'm invited to a feast at the Hewn City in a few days. Come with me as my guest and they will be livid. In the meantime, I'll teach you whatever self defense I can." Eris eyes twinkled, voice smooth as silk.

Elain looked at him, at the cruel smile on his face. They would indeed be livid. Some of them may never forgive her. But perhaps this was the statement she needed to make. No one else seemed to have reservations about their scheming and secret keeping. She could show them that she was not so different from them after all. But she did have one concern.

"Lucien." Elain chewed her lip.

"I'll glamour you," Eris said, "only your sister and her toy will know it's you and they'll never tell."

"What is your motive?" Elain's gaze snapped to his as though the thought had just hit her. She squinted at him, trying to see through him as he did her.

"No traps, no ulterior motives," Eris chuckled. "We'll just eat and drink and twirl around a bit to piss them off."

Eris would not allow himself to be the sort of person to hold Elain's well-being hostage for his own purposes. Besides the fact that he was not in good enough health to deal with their rage if he were to stoop that low. And that Elain must be unharmed in order for this alliance with the Night Court to remain in tact. This had to be Elain's choice. There was nothing for him to gain but his own petty satisfaction. But Elain looked as though she had everything to gain from this ruse. Her entire autonomy suddenly dangled within grasp.

"Okay," She said, her face solemn, though her cheeks flushed light pink, "I'll go with you."

"Excellent," Eris purred, sitting back against the couch in satisfaction. "Though you may consider sending them a note, lest the continent be torn apart the second they discover your absence."

Indeed. Elain stood to make her way to Eris's desk, but stopped and turned back toward him.

"How has no one found us yet?" She tilted her head and Eris found himself admiring the gold sparkling in her eyes.

"No one knows this cabin is here. Even if they knew, they couldn't make it past the wards."

So, they could not track her and pull her away. Elain sifted through the papers on the desk and found a blank piece with Rhys's Night Court symbol on the corner. She found a heavy copper pen and weighed it in her hand as she considered what to write. Deep in thought, she barely registered the sounds of Eris rising from the couch and coming to read over her shoulder. Either his wound was healing or he swallowed his pain well.

I've gone on a trip. I am safe and no one is forcing me to write this. Do not tell Nesta.

More soon,

Elain

The note vanished after she finished writing, leaving her far too aware of Eris's closeness, the warmth of his body and the sensation of his breath across her skin.

"I believe Nesta would disembowel me with her bare hands if she knew you were here," Eris said, just above a whisper.

Elain turned around, bracing her hands on the desk behind her. This closeness was not better, her torso only a few inches away from brushing his. Eris did not move away.

"Yes, she doesn't think very highly of you," Elain said, hoping she did not blush as she met his eyes.

"You don't share her opinion?" He asked, half-teasing and half-probing. The corners of his eyes crinkled.

"I suppose I'm still making up my mind," She answered, half-teasing and half-warning.

"Smart girl," Eris said, his voice rumbling through Elain's chest and quickening her heartbeat. "I could still disappoint you."

How did she say that she knew he would not? That she saw exactly what he was. A cat that made himself look large and menacing to his enemies. And underneath the facade, layers and layers of grief, anger, and shame. Accompanied by an endless well of sorrow.

The paper returned with a snap, rustling as it landed on the desk. Elain jumped and finally pulled her gaze from his. It was her sister's handwriting.

Busy now, talk later. Not happy.

The words made her stomach lurch, but Eris only grinned.

"I suppose it's no secret what they're busy with," He rolled his eyes. She swatted at him, but he remained glued to where he stood.

"Did you sleep at all?" He asked, his tone sober once more. He had only just now noticed the deep purple smudged under her eyes.

"Not much," Elain admitted. Her attention turned back on herself, the tiredness hit her all at once. Her body was admittedly feeling weary. The heaviness was mixing with Eris's scent, wood smoke, brown sugar, and sweet spices. It made her a bit dizzy.

"Sleep, then," Eris said, his voice soft. "Now that you know everything will be alright."

Elain obeyed, weak against the call of the soft couch, crackling fire, and Eris's tender command.

Eris has decided to take a bath, despite Elain's warnings against it. The little magic in his body seemed to be holding his wound steady, but it was not healing as it should be yet.

"It's been quiet for too long," Elain called through the door, "Say something or I'm coming in."

"Maybe that's what I wanted," Eris's teasing voice drifted back to her. Elain blushed and crossed her arms. As though he could sense her indignation, Eris added, "I'm fine, mother hen. I'm going slowly."

The door swung open and Eris appeared, half-naked with a towel wrapped around his hips. Elain blushed deeper and let her gaze drift to the floor. Eris swallowed his desire to wink at her, disappearing into the bedroom instead. He closed the door all but a crack, and Elain wondered if it was supposed to be some sort of invitation.

"You know I have a few dresses here," He called, "You don't have to wear my shirt, if you don't want to."

Damn his teasing. Elain pressed the backs of her hands to her warm cheeks.

"I did not see them last night," She answered, resisting the urge to spit the words at him. "Is that this secret warded cabin is for, then? Bringing girls to?"

"Some girls," Eris chuckled, swinging the door open and meeting her in the hallway once more, "Some boys."

He had dressed in sweat pants and a long, soft tunic. Damp hair brushed back, freckles on display, bottom lip still slightly swollen. The lounge clothes fit him well, hugging and draping over his muscular figure in all the most flattering ways. He held a blue cotton dress toward her, draped over his arm. His other hand held fresh bandages.

"Anyone who needs it, really," He continued, smile falling, effectively pulling Elain from her ogling thoughts, "It's a safe house of sorts."

"I don't suppose you have something I can wear to the Hewn City," She said, swallowing her guilt. She could imagine what he might need a safe house from, with brothers that had no qualms stabbing him with ash wood and faebane. She could also imagine that he would not answer if she asked further questions, anyways.

"No," Eris grinned, violent brothers forgotten, "We'll have to go shopping. There's an excellent dress shop in the village nearby. A neat little tourist town."

Shopping with the heir of the Autumn Court? Would her sister even believe her?

"I don't have any money," Elain protested, but Eris waved her away.

"You can pay be back some other way," His eyes glittered. He uncrossed his arms so Elain could examine his abdomen.

She glared at him for a moment before lifting his soft shirt. His wound had not reopened in the bath, and was beginning to scab over, but she still wished it was further along in healing. It was going to leave a nasty scar, feathered around the edges from the way his flesh had been torn.

"Looks fine, but be careful," Elain said, dropping the fabric, trying so very hard to ignore his amusement, ignore the goosebumps that had spread over his skin from the brush of her fingertips.

"The cruel lady would make me bandage my own wound?" He asked, voice full of mock hurt.

Elain's memory flashed back to the last time she was this close to someone, alone in a hallway. When she had closed her eyes and waited like a fool while Azriel contemplated and decided that it had been a mistake to even touch her. Perhaps, if she had been bolder, that night may have ended differently. She would not be the same Elain, now. She would give in to the part of herself that enjoyed his teasing, if not only just to see the surprise on his face when he realized that she could play, too. Elain was no demure flower.

"You need only have asked, my lord," Elain crooned, looking up at him through lowered lashes, plucking the bandage from his hand.

She let her touch linger as she stuck the new bandage on, tracing each edge to smooth it down. Holding his gaze, she let down his shirt slowly and allowed her knuckles to drag across his skin, all the way down to his waist band.

Then she slipped past him, letting her shoulder brush his. She closed the washroom door behind her, leaving him alone in the little hallway.

Eris had seen the determined glimmer in her eye. That hint of a bite underneath her sweet demeanor. A shiver ran through him as he thought that he would like to see that edge unsheathed. And pressed against his neck while he was completely at her mercy.

[nocasdatsgay]

The Price You Pay For Power Ch. 4

Pairing: Neris | Chapter Rating: T | Word Count: 2443

Story Summary: Eris revises his bargain with Rhysand: Nesta for Autumn Healers. He agrees and Nesta is sent to Autumn under the guise as Eris’s new bride in order to assist with removing Beron for good. Now she has to navigate a new court and also decide just how much she will trust her new husband.

CW: Beron, Vanserra brothers acting out of pocket, implied abuse

Chapter Summary: Nesta learns Lucien lore and has dinner with the Vanserras

MasterPost | Read it here on AO3 | Previous Chapter

or read below

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nesta slapped him the moment the door shut to her chambers. She went to slap him again but he grabbed her wrist. His hard amber gaze would have made her wither if she wasn’t so livid. 

“I will take the first one, but you will not hit me again.” He lowered her arm and let go. His expression unchanged like he was carved from stone. 

That didn’t damper the rage inside her. “Beron planned to turn me over to Briallyn.”

“I would not have brought you here if I thought it was a possibility.” He walked towards the wall of shelves. 

“How do you know he won’t change his mind?” 

“I told him a week ago you accepted my proposal.” He stopped and looked back at Nesta with a smirk. “He would not have allowed us to spend money on a wedding that wouldn’t happen.” 

Nesta tilted her head, her voice was a hiss as she spoke through clenched teeth. “You told him I accepted a week ago?” 

Eris shrugged, perfect picture of nonchalance. “You said yourself Rhysand was looking for a reason to get rid of you. So I took a risk. It obviously paid off.” He cut his eyes to her, a smirk still gracing his lips. “You are much more cunning than they give you credit for. You did a very good job of mixing lies with truth. Even I was almost convinced.” 

He turned and narrowed his gaze at the empty fireplace. He threw flames into it and she waited for them to start crackling and popping. The noise never came. Eris placed his hands behind his back and turned to her again. He slowly walked back towards her, eying her over again. 

“How do your powers work?” 

“I don’t know.” She looked away, shame washing over her for a reason she couldn’t place. 

“They haven’t been training you?” She looked back to see him frowning. 

Nesta shook her head. “I trained in physical combat. That’s what they wanted and I didn’t argue. I don’t want to use my magic.” 

Eris was quiet for a moment, staring at her but not seeming to actually see her. He sighed. 

“After the wedding, we start training with your magic. You’re not much used to me if you can’t actually control it.”

“Seems like a poor decision on your part. Buying a cow without knowing if it produces milk.” 

Despite her sharp tongue, she felt the heat of embarrassment crawl up her neck. Not being able to control her powers made her feel weak. But having to actually control them instead of simply burying them? That scared her more than she wanted to admit. 

“You showed in that throne room you have powers. I knew exactly what I was getting when I first asked for your hand in Hewn City. It is no fault of your own Rhys was too scared to have you trained.” He looked down his nose at her. “Referring to yourself as a cow doesn’t become you.” 

Her face flushed at the realization of what she said. He acted as if he had the sudden need to adjust the cuff of his jacket. He continued, ignoring her reaction. 

“Are there any questions before dinner?” He paused. “Or complaints?” 

She crossed her arms. The meeting with Beron in the throne room was quick and simple. She was introduced to each family member and she prayed to whatever gods still listened that she could remember the brothers names. She only remembered Asher and even he looked less than friendly. 

“Am I really able to trust your brother? The stocky one?” 

Eris said simply. “We have an arrangement. If he so much as sneers in your direction, he will suffer the consequences.” 

“What kind of arrangement?” 

“Nothing you need to worry about.” 

She studied Eris trying to figure out what he could have on his brother that would make him fall in line so easily when all she ever heard was how vicious they were. 

“His wife, she isn’t from here.” 

“Observant.” He could have rolled his eyes for how sarcastically he said it. “ Anything else?” 

“Where is she from?” Nesta narrowed her gaze.

“She’s from Spring. Her uncle is a Lord in the western part of Autumn. He offered her up when father requested a list of eligible females to marry off Asher.”

“Why choose her?” 

It didn’t make sense to Nesta. After what she’d seen, Spring was of use to no one. Autumn Court for all its appearances, seemed to prioritize gain above all else. That is what made this very scheme work in first place

“Probably because she was the only one who still had her maidenhead.” Nesta instantly balked but Eris continued. “She admitted to knowing Lucien while in Spring like an idiot. What better way to punish him further than to have his friend marry one of the brothers that forced him to watch his betrothed be beheaded.” 

Nesta’s mouth gaped open slightly. There was so much information to process. “Lucien was betrothed?” 

“Centuries ago. The fool fell in love with a lesser fae.” Eris shot her a stern look. “You will not speak of him after today, understood? Anything else?” 

“She was beheaded?” He nodded and her stomach churned. Disgust etched into her features. “And you let it happen just because she was lesser?”

“I could only save one of them and I chose my brother.” Actual anger flashed in his eyes, heat filling the air between them. “I paid for it greatly. You have to pick your battles even if they come at a cost.”

Then he blinked and seemed to come back to himself. She almost felt like he looked at her with regret. 

He added in a softer tone. “My father is cruel. You do things you normally wouldn’t to survive.”

That did not set her at ease. “And you felt it was wise to bring me here?” 

“That was a call your High Lord made. Rather quickly, I might add.” He raised a brow and narrowed his gaze. “What did you do to Rhys that would make him give you up so quickly?”

“I gained his ire by making it out of the cauldron alive.” She gave him a withered look. “I am certain deep down he hopes I die in this court.” 

He stared at her for a moment, then scoffed. She swore there was a flash of a grin on his face. Eris immediately cleared his throat and he slipped right back into his previous cold demeanor. 

“We both know there is to be only one death in this court, and it will not be yours.” He paused as if collecting his thoughts. “That reminds me there are more unspoken rules I should share before dinner.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nesta could hardly stomach dinner.

Being back around the other Vanserras put her on edge. She was seated to Eris’s left and Eris to his father’s left at the head of the table. Even with Eris between them, she was too close to Beron for her comfort. Beside her was Piran, if she remembered correctly. Eris explained the seating before they left her room. Explained how once Beron and his mother walked in, they were to stand until Beron seated her and then himself. He added neither of them could leave until after Beron left unless formally dismissed.

It did not help that it felt like they were all watching her. Especially the brother across from her, Cillian. He was the only one of the brothers that had more brown than red in his hair. It was cut shorter and slicked back. She looked up once to see him staring at her but his eyes were not on her face. She kept her head down after that. The other issue was the wine. She pretended to drink and prayed no one noticed her glass not emptying. She would have to humble herself later and ask Eris to have her served only water. 

The food was thankfully not terrible. Completely different from the Night Court’s; more root vegetables and milder on the tongue. A type of bird for meat. She’d never admit this single dish was better than anything her sister and the half-wraiths could cook up. The dining room itself was beautiful. Eris mentioned it was the formal one; they met once a week in this room and other times the Vanserra’s were free to dine where they liked. 

She made a point to stare at the cloth on the table while the maids in golden linen dresses and blood red aprons went about refilling wine glasses. The table cloth was thick, ivory white and gold stitching. The runner in the center was blue, similar to what everyone was wearing. She wondered if it always matched and if so, what a waste of money it was to constantly replace the runner just for the sake of a family dinner. She was so lost in her thoughts, ignoring conversation around her that she started when she felt Eris’s foot hit her own under the table.

“Nesta.” She lifted her head and her gaze met Eris’s. He was glaring at her. “Celeste asked you a question.” 

“I’m sorry.” Apologies fell from her lips easier than she liked. She scanned the table and further down her eyes met striking blue. “Would you mind repeating the question? I didn’t quite hear it.”

Cillian snorted. “Just like a female to not listen. Are you as dumb as your sister? I heard the High Lord of Night taught her to spell with his tongue. Did he teach you how to spell too? With his head between your legs?”

Nesta was too taken aback to respond. Eris however, was out of his seat immediately. In a blink he was on the other side of the table, yanking Cillian by his hair with a knife to his throat. 

“Apologize to my wife or I will cut out your tongue through your throat.” 

“She isn’t your wife yet.” He hissed back. 

“Cillian,” Beron spoke up as if he was chastising a child. His tone did darken as he added, “Apologize. I have already told you once before to not be crude in front of your mother.” 

“My apologies, Mother.” He sneered and Eris seemed to tug his head again. “And Lady Nesta.” 

The Lady of Autumn picked food from her plate as if nothing was happening. “I accept your apology dear.” 

“Eris, sit down.” Beron grumbled. 

Eris made a point of throwing Cillian’s head forward narrowly missing shoving it into his plate. Unlike before Eris made a slow walk around the table. Nesta was certain her mouth was gaped still. 

A moment passed and Celeste cleared her throat. “I was asking if you were excited. For the wedding considering your family won’t be present.” 

“Yes, I am.” She replied automatically, lies quickly falling from her tongue without thought. “My sister is with child. Which is why they will not be joining us.” She cut her eyes to Cillian, hoping he saw the promise of death in them if he commented again. “One can never be too careful during pregnancy. Children are a blessing.” 

“Indeed they are.” Celeste replied quickly before looking down at her plate. 

“Celeste is pregnant,” Piran spoke up beside her. Nesta tried to not scowl at how he spoke around his food. He nudged her with his elbow. “Vanserra’s are fertile. Better watch it if you want to enjoy your honeymoon period or you’ll end up like them.” 

“Piran,” Eris practically growled. She didn’t dare look over at him. 

“You’ll have to forgive my boys, Lady Nesta.” Beron’s voice was like a low rumble that struck fear down her spine. “They seem to forget the concept of manners. Do I need to remind you both how to behave in front of guests or is a warning enough?”

She could feel Piran stiffen beside her. Cillian’s face paled. The silence at the table made her hair stand on end. Something unspoken laid between them all. It reminded her of when everyone but Feyre knew about the complications, only worse. This was a heaviness she hoped to never be subjected to again. 

”Speaking of guests,” Beron broke the silence as if it had never happened. “The Lords from the territories will arrive in the morning. I expect the two of you,” His eyes shifted between Piran and Cillian, “To greet them.”

“Yes sir,” they both muttered. 

Nesta was shocked when the Lady of Autumn spoke up, looking at her directly. “Your dress will be fitted in the morning. It’s a shame your previous High Lord wouldn’t allow you to come for it prior.”

”He does like to cause as much trouble as he can,” Nesta replied. “I look forward to the fitting.

“I think it would be best if we retire,” Eris spoke up. Nesta cut her eyes to him but he was looking at his father. “It will be a long day tomorrow.”

Beron considered it for a moment. “You’re dismissed. All of you are dismissed. Except for Piran and Cillian. I need to speak with them about the Lords and Governors. Before we retire for the evening.”

Nesta felt in her soul that wasn’t the truth. 

Not with the way everyone stood on cue, and Eris coming to pull her chair out from the table quickly. She kept her composure, back stiff and head held high when Eris offered her his arm. Neither of them spoke all the way back to their chambers. It was only when he stopped at her door, he seemed to relax. 

“Your maids will wake you in the morning.” He stepped back from her and straightened his jacket. He didn’t look her in the eyes. “I will not see you until the ceremony.”

”Eris, what-“ 

His eyes cut to her and she stopped speaking. It shocked her to see his amber eyes pleading with an air of something she couldn’t put her finger on. 

”Do not ask questions. Not here.” He whispered. “Go to bed and try to rest.”

She nodded and bid him good night. As she readied herself for bed, the uneasiness from dinner did not leave her. What the deep hells had Rhys got her involved in? She stared at the door from her bed, hoping against hope that Cassian would barge in and fly her away back to Night. Like the heroes in her novels would when their love was in danger. Cassian was supposed to be a hero. He was supposed to be her hero. 

She finally fell asleep dreaming of red; glowing stones morphing into flaming red hair. 

Next Chapter

[msshadowqueen]

Day 4 of @gwynweekofficial Adventure

I wrote a little Targwyn! May or may not continue this depending on the response to this.

Premise: With Elain and Lucien off traversing through the continent fighting death gods and riding pegasi, Nesta had regained her original position as Emissary to the Night Court. She was probably a terrible choice given how often she pissed people off, but with Mor gone to Vallahan, she was the only remaining member of the Night Court with any experience in politics. Rhysand and Feyre had been banned once more from Summer, likely as a result of Tamlin informing Tarquin of Rhysand’s frequent unwelcome visits to Spring, Cassian and Azriel were hopeless in that department, and Amren didn’t give a shit. When Nesta reaches out to Tarquin to repair relationships damaged by her sister and her mate, Gwyn and Emerie take the opportunity to brave the world outside Night for the first time in ages.

Gwyn took a deep breath and tried not to panic.

This was her first trip outside of the Night Court since the fateful incident. The one which had turned her life upside down. The one where she had failed and lost, again and again. Which led to her running to the library to hide away.

Yet without that incident, she would’ve never wound up in Night. She would’ve never met her best friends Nesta and Emerie. She would’ve never become a Carynthian.

She would’ve never become a Valkyrie.

Deep breaths. Gwyn concentrated on her breathing. In. out. She took in the scents of her surroundings. Nesta’s lavender scents. Emerie’s mix of various spices.

You are not strong enough for this.

I take that thought and let it go. I am strong. Stronger than my demons, stronger than my past. We all are.

Gwyn placed one of her hands in Nesta’s and the other in Emerie’s, opening her eyes with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the world I missed out on.”

They were all three of them in blue dresses to honor the Summer Court. Nesta wore a shimmering silvery dress that matched the color of her eyes, with a large, billowing skirt with lacy butterflies attached to it that looked like something a queen would wear to a royal ball. A silver and diamond tiara adorned her braided hair while diamond and emerald jewelry hung around her neck, her wrists, and her fingers.

Gwyn was in a teal dress which also matched her eyes; it was a long, sleeveless dress with a highly ruffled skirt that went down to the floor; it gave her the look of a mermaid. Enormous sapphires sparkled from the necklace she had on, a gift from Amren to Nesta which Nesta had passed on to Gwyn, and her sapphire heart studs looked adorable on her, as well as her bracelet of seashells. Her fiery hair had been tied up in a chignon bun, a tanzanite tiara glittering from her head.

Emerie was in a navy blue dress that complemented her skin very well. The dress was off-shoulder and there was a slit on one side that cut to mid-thigh. Aside from that, the dress was rather plain; it was the jewelry that made it look spectacular. Incredible gold jewelry with amethyst and garnet gemstones, complete with a man tikka that somewhat resembled an invoking stone were it not for its deep red color. Amethyst was for Emerie’s favorite color, royal purple. The garnet was a nod to Emerie’s Illyrian heritage, which she had recently decided to embrace.

Together, they looked like High Ladies. Gwyn laughed when they’d all settled down in the carriage, saying, “We look like we’re headed towards our own coronations.”

Nesta snorted, Emerie smirking on her other side. “Maybe we would all be dressing like this had I accepted Eris’s proposal.”

“Well, technically you still can,” Emerie mused.

Gwyn gasped. “Em!”

“What? Like Eris wouldn’t take her, rejected proposal or not? I mean, she’s Nesta. Besides, the Autumn Court sounds so cool.”

Gwyn shook her head emphatically. “Yes, but Nesta loves Cassian. Nothing can equal that.”

Nesta chose that moment to speak. “Do I?”

Gwyn blinked. “Sweetie…we attended your mating ceremony. We were all there. You were glowing then.”

Nesta sighed. “Yes, but now…now I’m having some doubts. Perhaps this time away from him will help me get clarity.”

Gwyn and Emerie exchanged concerned glances but did not push. They’d have plenty of time to get the truth out of Nesta anyway.

Gwyn was gently shaken awake when the carriage arrived before the Summer Court palace. Gwyn stared in awe.

The palace was hewn from light brown stone upon a mountain-island floating in a bay the shape of a crescent. The floating lantern lights that lit up the surrounding city gave the whole place an ethereal glow. Guards at the entrance opened the sea-glass doors to them as they walked in. They must have been waiting for them.

Her dress suddenly felt plain before the magnificence of this castle. The man who lived here had to be very powerful, and not happy with their ruler at all. Gwyn gulped, feeling the nerves settle in. Her hands shook slightly.

“Hey.” Nesta grabbed her wrist. “We’re here. We’re with you.”

Emerie nodded grimly, gripping her other hand. “If you want to leave, I’ll escort you out while Nesta carries on the conversation.” Gwyn nodded. “I am the rock against which the surf crashes,” she whispered. Since there was an enormous ocean near them, it felt appropriate.

“Nothing can break us,” Nesta and Emerie answered fiercely.

Gwyn felt nothing but calm as they were escorted to a patio to wait for Tarquin and his most trusted advisors. Being near the sea calmed her too. She breathed in the sea salt air, stared at the powerful body of water that exuded possibilities.

“Ladies.” Gwyn looked up, her breath catching in her throat. The trio was heavenly beautiful, their dark skin in stark contrast with their brilliant turquoise eyes and silvery white hair. The one in the middle emanated power, and Gwyn instantly knew he was the High Lord. The woman to his right stared them down suspiciously.

They all three of them scrambled out of their chairs to bow. “High Lord,” Nesta said reverently, bowing deeply.

The male waved her off. “Please call me Tarquin. High Lord is far too formal.”

“High Lord!” The lady snapped, pulling him aside. She hissed something in Tarquin’s ear that typical High Fae hearing wouldn’t be able to catch, but her water nymph blood gave her a built-in sonar system that allowed her to catch what others wouldn’t be able to.

“You can’t trust these folk. Remember what happened last time?”

“These are not Rhysand’s inner circle members, Cresseida.”

“No,” Cresseida retorted. “They’re his lackeys.”

“We are not Rhysand’s lackeys,” Gwyn called loudly. Both Cresseida and Tarquin looked back at her in surprise. Nesta and Emerie turned towards her too.

“You heard that?” Tarquin asked, intrigued. Gwyn smiled. “Super hearing is one of my many talents.”

Cresseida raised a brow. “Oh? Then pray tell, what are your other talents?”

Gwyn shrugged, her smile transforming into a grin. “Allow me to introduce myself more formally. Gwyneth Berdara. Carynthian. Priestess. Valkyrie. How do you do?”

Murmuring broke out amongst the trio. “Valkyrie?” The other male asked. “Last we heard, the Valkyries were no more.”

Nesta stepped forward. “With the help of Gwyn’s research, we’ve revived it.” Gwyn turned to Nesta, beaming. “Nesta is the new leader of the Valkyries. She is also the emissary to the Night Court, but let me tell you, she’s had her fair share of spats with Rhysand.”

Nesta nodded. “Most of the time, we do not see eye to eye. We hate each other, but we have an understanding not to get in each other’s way. He is too proud to come and try to make peace here, so he has sent me in his stead.” Nesta inclined her head at Tarquin. “We met. At the High Lord’s meeting. Remember?”

Gwyn did not know what happened at this meeting, but Nesta must have made a big impact there if the Summer Court trio was now looking at them with more respect.

“Here’s the deal, then,” Cresseida said. “Kill Rhysand, and we will consider an alliance with you.”

The male on the far left gasped, and Tarquin glared at her reproachfully. Nesta steepled her fingers before her. “I’m…not sure I will be able to do that.”

“Then get out,” Cresseida snapped, and she flung her hand in Nesta’s direction.

“Don’t touch my friend!” Gwyn shrieked, stepping in front of Nesta, who had frozen. She closed her eyes, bracing for impact.

Which didn’t come. Gwyn opened her eyes, and to her amazement, a watery barrier resembling a shield had formed in front of her and Nesta. Everyone was staring at her. She blinked.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” she muttered, dropping her hand. The shield disappeared. Tarquin laughed softly, and Gwyn’s eyes snapped to his. There was appreciation there, perhaps because she had protected her friend instinctively, and dare she say some affection?

“You’re of Summer Blood,” Tarquin observed. “Interesting.”

Gwyn blinked, surprise overtaking her. “I-I didn’t know. I never knew my father.”

Tarquin took a few steps towards her. “Would you like to stay awhile and learn to control your magic?”

Gwyn’s mouth dropped open before she remembered to control herself and closed it. A High Lord offering to teach her magic? She couldn’t help it; she could feel her face turning as red as her hair.

She stammered “I- wow, you would really-I mean yes, thank you so much.”

Tarquin gave her that adorable soft smile again. “You are most welcome, Gwyneth Berdara.”

[hopeaterart]

An excerpt from the next Xenia chapter because I think I'm funny. (TW for talks of genitalia mutilation and torture, even if it's in a comedic context)

Hades stared down at the proposal. Then at the proposer. Then back again a few times. Thanatos was next to him, staring at the scroll with a mix of confusion, disgust and terror. Hades closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and asked: “Eris, what in Erebus is this?”

“Eris’ Dick Smasher!” The Goddess of Discord cheerfully answered, seemingly unaware of Hades’ and Thanatos’ consternation. Or, knowing her, she was perfectly aware. “It's written at the top, didn't you see?”

“No no, I saw.” Hades answered, batting her hand away before she could poke at the scroll. “Let's- run this by me so I understand. You think this is an appropriate punishment?”

“He tried to stick it in your sister, right?”

“Please don't make light of him attempting to assault Hera, I haven't see Zeus this mad since the Titanomachy-”

“So I thought,” Eris continued, ignoring Hades’ protests. “‘Hey, if this loser pervert got himself cursed for eternity because he thought he could lay with the ~Queen of the Olympians~, let's destroy his dick!’ What do you think?”

“... It is surprisingly on-topic and coherent from her.” Thanatos noted, leaning down to Hades. “Definitely beats what she suggested we do with Minos 2.”

“Oh, come on!” Eris protested, the feathers on her arms bristling as she angrily gestured. “It's not like he doesn't deserve to be suspended upside down and get his face melted off!”

“Just because he deserves it doesn't mean it's appropriate.” Hades answered. “And this isn't the plans for a torture device designed for genitalia mutilation: this is a crude scheme of two chariots crashing into each other from converging downright slopes with Ixion at their collision point.”

“Yeah, he stands a bit to the side with his dick out and the chariots smash it.” Eris explained. "It's a Dick Smasher, I don't know what to tell you."

“The chariots have your face on them.”

“It's Eris’ Dick Smasher. Gotta leave my signature somewhere or everyone is gonna attribute it to you. Like, Moros is the one who came up with putting Salmoneus under that rock, not you.”

“... Of course. The other scheme you included shows him… erect.” Hades then noted, somewhat disgusted. “How are we supposed to achieve that?”

“Forces beyond his control force him to jack off.” Eris answered immediately, snapping her fingers. “Also, his dick regenerates between smashings. Or else, it's not eternal punishment.”

“Obviously, how silly of me to think you hadn't thought of that.” Hades deadpanned, turning back toward the scroll with a raised eyebrow. “I suppose you thought of something to prevent him from running away in between… dick smashings?”

“I can't believe this is a conversation we're having.” Thanatos muttered under his breath.

“His feet are chained to the ground. With a very short chain.” Eris explained, apparently satisfied with how Hades was paying attention. “He can sit down, but he's not allowed to. If whatever Fury in charge of him catches him, she starts whipping until he's standing back up.”

“That'd be Alecto.” Thanatos informed her. “And you think she'd be alright with this!?”

“You kidding me? Alecto would fucking love this!”

Hades sighed in resignation. “... she really would. Well, Eris.” He then started, slipping back into business mode. “Thank you for this shockingly well thought-out proposal. It will be taken into consideration.”

[wrathfulmercy]

It wasn’t new that Eris couldn’t be found by his side especially at night since they arrived around here. Some might have assumed that it was easy for them to come back and for Eris to settle now that she had her daughter back. Her daughter and her former boyfriend, the man Rick always glanced at secretly as if he needed to be aware of his presence and moves. Sometimes he wondered if it must have been the same for Eris with Michonne. If she watched every step, analyzed every gesture and the mood in a room as soon as they shared it. Even if they did make it clear that none of their past relationships could change what they had, it felt like Eris was walking on thorns around here and Rick only wished that all of this wasn’t his fault.

With everything he did he tried to make this place her home. To soothe her when she had doubts of her belonging, when she wondered if her daughter still loved her the way she did before. It was easy when they looked at each other and whispered those sweet words of comfort, but whenever she was out of his reach it seemed as if she was falling somewhere he couldn’t follow and he hated every part of that. Of course he hold himself back after their arrival. No matter if Carol and Daryl knew what she was to him, he still hesitated when it came to Michonne to keep the pain as small as possible, but he was also well aware that their love would leave behind burnt earth and they were walking on it every day already.

Maybe that was just one of the reasons why he never asked her to marry him. After all they had been through and confessing their feelings it was soon clear to him that he wanted to propose. It was on his way back to the crm when he found that ring that immediately reminded him of her. Back then it seemed way too soon, but that didn’t change the impulse to take it and so he kept it during all these times as his secret. Locked in his nightstand in the crm it would have taken just one look from her. Just one move of her opening the drawer when she stayed the nights and laid naked in his arms. She never did and Rick couldn’t even say if he was relieved or disappointed every time. If she would have found it too soon, maybe she would scold him for it. Maybe she would turn away and tell him he’s lunatic. Ask him how he could even think about it when there was a daughter to return to and a boyfriend she needed to end things with. For Rick all of it never mattered. The only thing mattering was her and that his love was real, nothing would ever change that fact.

What was the perfect timing for a proposal though? The atmosphere was still tensed and Eris clearly didn’t find her place in here yet or at least didn’t feel comfortable enough to laugh in the way he learnt to adore over time. But did it really matter? Did he really have to marry her in a world where life could end every day? Or did it matter even more right now cause every day could be your last? When he looked for her and didn’t find her in her bed where Emily was sleeping close by, Rick grabbed his jacket and went outside, hands shoved into his pockets to approach her at the back gate where they could always stare at the stars and share the illusion of shared loneliness. They weren’t lonely anymore but Alexandria wasn’t the reason for it.

“You’re freezing.” he murmured after staring at her in awe for a while. Slowly he slipped out of his sleeves and wrapped his jacket around her shoulders before he stepped closer, holding her in one arm of his to feel her head lean against his shoulder. “Are you alright, Eris?” Alright. What did it even mean? She clearly was tensed. Maybe even confused. But Rick couldn’t help but wonder if there was another reason than Steve behind it. “Do you regret it?” His head turnt to look down at her, a sad but loving smile on his lips to make sure she would never get any blame from him. Not if she needed time. Not if she changed her mind. All he wanted was seeing that smile on her again.

“Coming here, I mean. Do you wish we stayed?”

💍 (for eris. BUT LISTEN: her finding it during their time in Alexandria 😏)

Eris and Emily were the one thing here that'd clicked instantly. There was no greater moment than Eris, standing back at those gates, she'd waited behind Rick and Michonne, hung back just so she had chance to really look at her girl, to adore her visually, to see her.. and Eris had looked like hell, it'd been a long journey. She wouldn't admit how tired she was, how her feet ached, how she craved a shower that day, but she dropped down to her knees when that little girl ran at her and was so ready to catch her and hold on to her like she'd never be prepared to let her go again. It was plain to see how much Emily adored her Mother, Ma as she said. Emily had wanted to show her everything, hold her hand and guide her around all of Alexandria.

The way she introduced herself to Judith was very different, she did not crouch to her knees, she instead offered her hand and treated Judith more like an adult. "Eris Amorello, you must be Judith Grimes? It is nice to meet you, Judith." in some way, she just knew she wanted to be treated with more maturity. Then there was Steve... seeing him gave her dread and he.. well he did not run and hug her, he simply patted her arm and that was that. That was that... for that moment, she knew it wouldn't be it.

Settling in however, was not as easy as she imagined it'd be. Eris found herself to be restless, constantly waiting for a call to action and she didn't know how to tell Rick that.. adjusting from not being at the CRM wasn't exactly... coming easily. She wanted to be constantly guarding that wall. There should be more people guarding it, clearing walkers, making sure- it was constant and wouldn't leave her. What Eris had done though, was make a hell of an impression at being capable.. the first day here and she didn't lounge around merrily and rest, she went out there, weapons at the ready, prepared to keep this community safe and prove herself. She wanted no excuse to be left alone with Steve. Steve that'd already started with hushed remarks and taunts, pulls of her wrist or arm when nobody was looking. He wanted to remind her that when it came to him, he had control in front of their daughter. He noticeably didn't speak to her kindly either.

She was restless again tonight, enough that she got up, checked Emily was fast asleep and when she reached for a jacket, she took Ricks by accident. It was a simple mistake she reached into the pocket and found the box, it felt vintage and couldn't help but open the velvet container and... her heart swelled seeing the ring. It was so simple, yet perfectly her. A ruby, his fiery girl, surrounded b delicate gold, this... well it had to be for her right? Did that mean? Suddenly her heart was pounding. He was serious. He wanted to marry her. He... what if it was for Michonne? What if it wasn't for her at all? Eris pulled the jacket off and put it back, like she'd never known and rather than grab hers she just left with her heart thumping her ribcage.

There was a spot on the wall she favoured, not by the main gate, it was quiet to the back, you could see a whole horizon of stars, that's why she liked it up on that little watch tower, looking out, it felt freeing. She kept pacing, arms around herself because she hadn't actually realised how cold it was, or even that she was shivering after pacing for an hour. Back and fourth, the same thoughts. If it was for her... if Rick wanted her to be his wife, Steve wasn't going to have that. It'd be too out of his control, and what about the place? What if these people decided she was too much? She knew she could be full on, direct... despite how brazen she was, she liked a few of them. Carol made her laugh. Daryl, she appreciated his few words approach. She didn't like Gabriel, or at least she'd said that the idea of what he preached was 'fucking ridiculous' in their day and age. What if those people, didn't want Rick taking her as a wife? Then again, hadn't they welcomed Emily so openly? They'd taken care of her like their own so... so would she be different? Her teeth chattered together with the cold. Eris Amorello Grimes. She kept thinking it, maybe that.. maybe just Eris Grimes, wife. She'd simply be his wife.

[namelessalessandra]

First Meeting

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: You’re at a party in montecarlo and your cousin introduces you to some of her friends

Warnings: alcohol usage, speeding, Charles and Pierre

Also English is not my first language so there could be some mistakes

I reach out my hand to the tray held in balance from a waiter and grab the first drink that happens to me, if I’m going to survive this evening I definitely won’t be sober. I move around the crowd, looking around trying to find my cousin who practically begged me to follow her to this party full of rich presumptuous people from Montecarlo, I feel totally out of place while I sip from my glass with fake confidence. The long, black and adherent silk dress that I chose to wear does not help me to breathe any better since my corset holds me at the waist, plus it’s so hot I could die.

-(Y/N)- I hear shouting and so I turn around looking for the source of the voice, hope filling my eyes. My cousins comes towards me, smiling. She wears a beautiful golden dress with a very sexy split on the leg, and a non vulgar neckline that stands out from her torso.

-Oh, thank god I found you. When can we leave?- I ask getting closer to her, some spoiled rich young man slams against my arm, making me almost spill the drink and I would like to shout at him but I don’t even know half word in French so I contain myself. When I decided to take the plane from Italy to come to Montecarlo to my cousin’s without even knowing a sentence to introduce myself I didn’t worry that much. And it wouldn’t have been a problem if I had decided to stay for a couple of days or a week, but the three summer months proved to be a very long time in a country when anyone who talks to you seems to call you a stupid in every situation. My cousin laughs when she sees me rolling my eyes and surrounds my shoulders with her arm

-I remind you that I can’t speak French, so how do you want me to communicate to your friends if I can’t even introduce myself?- I ask raising an eyebrow, my perfect cousin hints a laugh that only causes me more confusion

-there they are! Boys!- she exclaims raising her arm and moving like a possessed, I follow the direction of her gaze, my face totally red because of embarrassment since some people around us turn to look at us, but when I see the two guys my cousin’s talking to, all those daddy’s boys around us disappear. I hear my cousin say to me ‘come with me’ before pulling me faster and we reach the two guys.

-(Y/N), he’s Pierre- my cousin says pointing to the first guy, he has blue eyes and fleshy lips pulled into a mischievous smile, surrounded by a light uncultivated beard. He hands me his hand that I squeeze quickly

-piacere di conoscerti, (Y/N), tua cugina ci ha parlato molto di te, finalmente ti conosciamo- (nice to meet you, (Y/N), your cousin told us a lot about you, finally we meet you) he says in perfect italian, I’m totally taken aback.

-He is Charles- my cousin starts talking again, pointing to the other guy. His eyes are clear too, but a different shade from Pierre, even though I can’t recognise it that well because of the sun downing. His lips are less flashy but his smile is surrounded by a couple of really cute dimples. He takes my hand and kisses it’s back without ever taking his eyes off of me, I’m speechless and so I just blush like a fool

-ci ha detto che eri bella, ma non così tanto- (she had said that you are beautiful, but not that much) he says, always in Italian, after letting my hand go. My cousin snorts a laugh

-always a Casanova, Leclerc- I hear her mutter amused, out of the corner of my eye I see Pierre surrounding her hips with his arm before taking her to the dance floor where some guys started dancing. I’m alone with Charles who hands me his hand again

-do you want to dance? These parties are not that much of fun, but there’s alcohol and food and dancing is a good excuse to get to know you- he comments in English making me laugh, I accept his proposal and in a moment we’re next to Pierre and my cousin, who are moving on a slow and not particularly tempting dance. The total opposite from the guy who’s holding me against his body. I can feel the muscles of his toned arms against my body and his perfume gets into my nostrils, and I don’t know if it’s the alcohol that I drunk o some other reason, but it smells so good that my head starts spinning

-So, (Y/N), your cousin said that you’re spending summer with her, but you’re not from here. Where do you come from?- Charles asks while moving in time. Reluctantly I distract myself from his good scent to try and give him a good answer.

-I’m italian. My mother and my cousin’s mother are sisters, both italian, but my aunt met a monegasque and moved here while my mother stayed in Italy- I answer shrugging my shoulders. Our eyes meet and my breath shakes. Is it me, or is he the most handsome guy that I’ve ever seen?

-And how do you know Italian that well?- I ask back, Charles raises his eyebrows almost shocked, but it only lasts one moment because then he comes back smiling at me

-I work with Italians so I had to learn- he explains and when I’m about to ask him about his job, the song ends and my cousin takes my wrist exclaiming something about appetisers. My gaze stay for a while chained to Charles’s while I let her drag me to the buffet, I only turn around when I see him come towards us with Pierre.

-So, what do you think?- my cousin asks taking a shrimp tart, I take a salmon one, shrugging my shoulders amused

-shrimps are not really my cup of tea, you know I prefer salmon- I joke making her roll her eyes. She gives me a small slap before whispering

-I meant Charles. What do you think about Charles- she explains herself even though she knows I understood the first time. I am saved by the arrival of the subject of the speech and his friend. My cousin hands Pierre a tart and he takes two champagne flutes. Charles hands a flute to me too and I gladly accept it. I see him taking a tart too.

-So is this how you guys party?- I ask the three of them, who look at me confused. I shrug without hiding my disappointed expression -from someone so devoted to luxury I expected funnier parties. Come on, you go around aboard Ferraris and Porches, swim while listening to music on your enormous yacht and then have such boring parties?- I add, my cousin laughs. We often joke about our countries different cultures.

-Tell us, then, how do you party, you little ungrateful italian?- Pierre asks without hiding an amused smile, my cousin looks me in the eyes, praying me not to do it by shaking her head. I extend my hand to the blond one.

-Come on, give them to me- I say amused, and I talk again at his confused gaze: -the Keyes of your Porsche, or Ferrari, or whatever it is- I am careful to also move my fingers to highlight my expectation. Pierre looks at my cousin as if he’s asking her confirmation of what’s happening. She sighs

-(Y/N), please, don’t do that. You don’t know what you’re getting into- her voice is full of embarrassment, I raise my eyebrow at the blond man at her side who’s still hesitating

-you know what? Here are the keys of my car, let’s see what you can do- Charles intervenes giving me his keys. I smile at him, satisfied, and thank him before moving towards the parking with them close behind. I click on the key looking for the right car. A dark grey opaque Ferrari with a red strap and a blank one on the hood. I’m not that good at recognising cars, usually, but the symbol in plain sight gave me the clue. I get on the driver side and turn to the owner of the car after putting on my seat belt.

-Are you coming or not?- I ask smiling at him, I feel full of adrenaline and my cousin understands it because she pushes Pierre to the next car

-hurry up, let’s get on the car before we lose her- she says to him in a whisper. Charles takes place beside me and puts the seat belt on while I turn on the car. I turn to the drivers on the car next to ours being careful to make the engine roar

-meeting point is the pizza place on the seaside. You think you can beat me?- I ask not holding back my fun. Pierre looks at me as if he’s thinking ‘are you serious?’ before we both start driving. The distance from the party terrace to the pizzeria will be no more than ten minutes, Charles' convertible car makes my hair flutter in the wind that is created with my speed and I can't help but scream with excitement. Pierre, beside us, seems as amused as I am while we challenge each other to who is faster. Charles next to me laughs incredulous as I press more on the accelerator and put a hand out of the window to feel the air flowing. When we’re about to arrive, Pierre surpasses me for one minute and I let him be with tranquillity. Charles tells me to surpass him and I look at him. I smile mischievously and when I see the pizza-place’s sign I press on the accelerator surpassing his friend, just then I stop the car in front of the entrance. Pierre joins us after a second and I see my cousin take off her seat belt and come towards me with big steps.

-Before shouting at me, how do you want your pizza?- I ask putting my hand in the neckline of my dress. The positive in wearing a bra is that I’m not obliged to take my purse with me because I can put my money inside it. My cousin rolls her eyes before shrugging her shoulders.

-Okay, I’ll take care of it. Do you guys have preferences?- I ask turning to the boys who still look at me upset but amused. Both of them shake their heads and so I get inside the pizza place. Within a few minutes I get back in the car, and pass the cartons and beers to Charles.

-Hey Pierre, do you think you can keep up with me? We are about to reach the free beach at the end of the promenade- I raise my voice to talk to the blond who makes the car roar in response. So we leave again, challenging ourselves in the three minutes car ride to reach the designated point. We stop at exactly the same time, luckily there are no cars around because there is a party in the city center, so we can park calmly and get out of the cars.

-Where did you learn to drive, little Italian?- Pierre asks amused, I burst out laughing shrugging my shoulders

-If I told you where would the fun be? - I ask before taking off my heels because we reached the beach. My cousin intertwines her arm with mine letting the two go forward. A tell-of is coming.

-I love your immeasurable ego, cousin, and it really looks like it brought you luck. You really didn't understand who those two are?- she questions scolding me in a low voice so as not to make them hear us, I shake my face before looking at her curiously.

-The typical sons of dad you introduced me to even a few years ago when I came to see you?- I ask uncertain. She sighs raising her eyes to the sky, hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand.

-Charles Leclerc and Pierre Gasly are two Formula 1 drivers- she exclaims in a low voice and my heart loses a beat. I widen my eyes gasping like a fish and she nods. We both burst out laughing because this is exactly one of the things we would both expect from me, and the we reach the guys. We spend the rest of the evening eating pizza and drinking our beers, talking about this and that, until Pierre proposes to throw us in the sea. He and my cousin immediately take off their clothes and go into the water, leaving me and Charles alone. I remember the news my cousin gave me before we sat down to eat and I decide to say something.

-I would never have challenged him if I had known you run in a car for work. I didn't want to look like a buffoon or anything, I just thought you were the typical dad's children that my cousin introduced me to when I was little- I say in a low voice, embarrassed. Charles, who just took off his jacket and shirt, turns to look at me. His toned torso distracts me for a moment as I see him approaching.

-I don't think Pierre's ego was scratched in the slightest, in fact I think he had fun- he responds to reassure me, so I nod and give him my shoulders moving my hair from my back to one shoulder

-Could you unty my dress?- I ask and I don't have to repeat myself twice because a second later his fingers touch my back. My cousin screams, then we hear the sound of water and Pierre's laughter.

-Hey you two lovebirds, are you coming? The water is beautiful- he yells at us as my cousin resurfaces and throws herself on his shoulders. I turn to Charles thanking him

-Now let's hurry, or Pierre comes to get us by the hair- the brunette jokes making me laugh. I take off my dress and he takes off his pants and we run to the water, where we clash in a war of splashes all against everyone.

[darklove9314-blog]

Azriel/Nesta/Cassian threesome but in another court after a angsty court meeting

“Can you believe the nerve of that pompous, limp dick asshole?” Nesta raged, pacing the floor of her and Cassian’s room as she fought to gain control of her anger, to gain control of that rage that burned inside of her.

Azriel and Cassian followed her inside, Azriel shutting the door tightly behind him as a small smirk crossed his lips. Cassian gave him a knowing look as he turned his attention back towards his mate. 

“It’s Eris Vanserra we’re talking about here Nes, he doesn't have the reputation of being the most rational fae in the courts.” 

Nesta spun to him, her face flushing red in anger before taking a deep breath to center herself, 

“I at least expected him to act in this meeting with some tact, I know I rejected his proposal and that’s a sore spot for him, but that still doesn’t mean-” 

“Let us take your mind off of him.” Cassian suggested making Nesta falter in her words, glancing at the both of them, 

“Here?” She gaped, looking around the décor of the autumn court’s guest room, one Cassian had been shocked Rhys and Feyre had managed to obtain. 

“Why not?” Azriel shrugged, a hint of mischief in his gaze, his shadows snaking across his skin, “It’s as good of a place as any and as Cassian said, we want to take your mind off it. 

Nesta gaped, glancing at both of them as they got closer to her. Both of them positioned, awaiting her word. 

“Yes.” She breathed and with that one word both Cassian and Azriel pounced, both their lips going to either side of her neck as one of each of their hands palmed her breast making her moan in response. 

A wicked gleam crossed Cassian’s face as Azriel shoved her to him =, his hands hooking in the fold of her skirts, ridding them up so she was fully bare before them. A low laugh escaped from Azriel’s lips as he aligned his cock with her entrance, Cassian pressing a kiss to her lips as she felt Azriel slid inside of her, a soft moan escaping her lips as she kissed Cassian, his lips swallowing up that moan as if it were his own form of personal ecstasy. 

“Does his cock feel nice inside of you, Nes? Is it doing the job of making you forget that horrible princling?” Cassian inquired soothing her hair, gosh he was everything. 

“Not yet, but I may be persuaded eventually.” Nesta answered, a curve of a smile befalling her lips as Azriel thrusted deeper inside of her, causing her to cry out yet again as Cassian held her in his strong arms, never faltering as he pressed a kiss to her lips again, his tongue matching the pace of Azriel’s thrust. Gosh what did she ever do to get this close to heaven? 

“I guess you need more of a distraction then.” Cassian growled out as his hands went to the pulls and stays of his leathers, pulling his massive cock out of his pants, stroking himself so he would be extra hard for her. 

She glanced up at him, as he pressed the tip of his cock to her lips, his heated gaze fixated on her,

“Open up for me, Nes.” Cassian instructed, tracing his tip across her lips, a bead of precum slipping onto them as Nesta glanced up at him.

She licked his tip, swirling her tongue around it as she felt Azriel lift her leg up trying to go balls deep inside of her as Nesta took Cassian’s cock in her mouth, Azriel glancing at her taking Cassian into her mouth with a smug smile. 

“Doesn’t his cock taste divine on your lips, Nesta? Don’t you want to take more of it?” He inquired his fingers wandering to Nesta’s hair, making her wonder if Azriel would make her gag on it.

Cassian’s eyes flashed warning to Azriel as Cassian flashed his teeth at him,

“If you’re going to be petty about how my mate sucks my cock then you might as well get down on your knees and show her how to do it yourself.” Cassian growled out as Nesta took him further into her mouth, her tongue swirling around his head as his hands wound in her hair, a chuckle escaping Azriel’s lips. 

“With pleasure.” Azriel mused landing a smack to Nesta’s ass and pulling out of her ad he knelt beside her, both of them on their knees before Cassian.

He turned to Nesta, Cassian’s cock still between her lips as he said,

“Now, Nes, it’s not polite not to share.” Azriel purred as Nesta released Cassian’s cock from between her lips, stroking him in exchange as her eyes found Azriel’s and responded, 

“I’ve never been good at sharing what is mine.” She told him a she felt Cassian tug her hair, getting her to stare up in Cassian’s eyes, loving the power and command that he held there. 

“Now, Nes. You should let Az have a turn that way you could prove that your the best when it comes to sucking my cock.” 

His thumb traced her lips, a silent promise that they would finish what they started as Nesta knelt, her eyes going to Azriel’s as he crawled over to Cassian, sending a look over to Nesta as he said, 

“His balls need some attention when I’m sucking his cock, Nesta. Do you want to help out.” 

A wicked smile crossed her lips as she postioned herself to where she could take Cassian’s balls in her mouth while Azriel took Cassian’s cock. 

Azriel took Cassian’s cock in his mouth, taking him down to the hilt, relaxing his jaw as Nesta sucked on his balls gently grasping Azriel’s in return so the shadow winger was included in this. 

He moaned around Casaian’s cock, taking it out gently as his eyes locked on Nesta’s. 

“On second thought, perhaps you need someone else’s cock in your mouth to occupy you Nes.” 

The tips of Nesta’s lips curved up in response as she knelt down beside Azriel’s cock taking it inside her mouth as he placed bis own lips on Cassian's to cover up the sounds of pleasure Nesta brought him, knowing that it had probably been a while since another female had sucked his cock like this. 

She bobbed her head as Azriel shoved her head down making her take more of his cock until she took him balls deep making her saliva coat his cock as he took Cassian just as deep. 

Nesta swirled her tongue around Azriel’s cock, showing the shadow singer just how talented she was. Even though she was more in tuned with the things that Cassian preferred, if this was going to continue for the three of them she had to find out what Azriel liked as well. 

She dragged her teeth across Azriel’s length, making him gasp in surprise as he bucked up into Nesta’s mouth letting her know that he immensely enjoyed that.

He took his mouth off of Cassian’s cock making Nesta pause as he turned his attention to Cassia  saying, 

“it appears as if our girl wants to learn to take my cock Cassian, but I think she’ll need a firm reminder of yours while she’s doing it.” Azriel told him as Cassian gave him a ruthful smile. 

Nesta felt her hips lifting, Cassian’s cock aligning with her entrance as her face met with Azriel’s cock, slowly taking him in the back of her throat as Cassian slid into her with a powerful thrust, wrapping his hand around her hair as the other one steadied her waist. 

Azriel’s hands wrapped in her scalp, shoving her deeper on his cock as Nesta scraped her teeth against it in answer, making Azriel  chuckle. 

“No worries, Nesta, I don’t mind the pain.” Azriel answered as Cassian thrusted her further onto Azriel’s cock, making her gag on it in response, tears prickling at the edges of her vision. 

“Go gentle on her, Az, She hasn’t take a cock as big as yours before.” Cassian reminded him making Azriel smile as he slid Nesta’s mouth from his cock with a ruthful smile. 

“She’s a lot more experienced in taking big cocks that you give her credit for Cass. Maybe we should test how well her mouth takes two.”

Nesta’s eyes widened at the suggestion, Cassian pausing in his thrust as a smile curled to his lips at the thought.

“Would that be something you like. Mate?“ Cassian asked as Nesta thought it over.

“Yes.” She breathed as Cassian pulled out of her quickly, brining her to her knees as he and Azriel stood on either side of her. 

She glanced between the two of them, both cocks erect as she strained to find a place to start. 

“Who will you give the honor of taking first, Nesta?” Azriel inquired, tilting her chin up towards him and tracing his thumb over her lips, making them part as Cassian’s fingers ran over her scalp. 

“What if I can’t decide?” She asked, her eyes shinning with a lust filled gaze at the two males before her. 

“The. I guess you can test both our cocks to determine which one you take first.” Cassian suggested taking his head through her scalp in answer.

Gods yes.” Nesta breathed as Cassian sent a small smile to Az, both of their tips lining against her lips as her heart beat rapidly, she had never tried taking two at once, and the thought of it was exhilarating

She opened her mouth wider, both their tips sliding in gently, working their way in until Nesta could no longer take both of them. She moaned cupping her breast for extra sensation as she felt both of them battling for dominance inside of he. 

She inclined her head towards her mate as Azriel pulled out in answer breathing heavily, her spit coating his cock as he jerked her back roughly, Cassian’s cock slipping further into her mouth as Azriel lined up with her entrance. 

“Eyes on your mate, Nes. i want him to see the look of pleasure on your face as I fuck you. I want you to suck his cock with the desire that you feel when you come around my cock.” 

Nesta nearly forgot to breath as her lips parted and she took Cassian’s cock into her mouth, Azriel slipping past her entrance as he seated himself inside of her making her moan around Cassian’s cock in pleasure. 

“Fuck, your mate feels nice Cassian. Are you sure you’re against sharing her for the rest of our lives.”

Cassian chuckled darkly, but an intensity pooled out from his gaze. 

“I may consider sharing her at some points Azriel, but her pussy was made for me.” Cassian shot back at him making Nesta moan around his cock at the sheer dominance in his voice and if she had to admit it at Azriel’s cock deep within her hitting every spot she could possibly have as she heard him chuckle behind her. 

“We’ll see about that.” Azreil told him sinking deeper into her as Nesta cried out around Cassian’s cock making Cassian shot Azriel a glare as if in challenge. 

“She may shatter around your cock now Arieil, but trust me when it’s my turn to make her come, she won’t even remember you were inside of her. “ 

Azriel chuckled, pulling Nesta back by her hair as he slammed into her with punishing, relentless thrust as his nails bit into Nesta’s tender flesh.

“Coem on, Nes. Show your mate how much I make you come.” 

Nesta moaned around Cassian’s cock, taking him deeper in a silent plea, she wanted her mate to come, wanted to give him this pleasure as much as he and Azriel were giving her pleasure. 

She sucked harder on Cassian’s cock making him curse in pleasure as his hand wrapped around her hair, steadying her, 

“You want to choke on my cock, Sweetheart?” Cassian inquired as Nesta sucked on his cock harder in answer as Cassian thrusted harder in her mouth making her gag on him, her spit slding down his length making it easier for him to take him. 

He held her there, using her hair to keep her steady as she gagged around his cock before he decided she had coated him enough and released her before Azriel slammed into her so hard that she came un done around him coming loud and messily around his cock, an animalistic noise escaping her throat as Cassian cursed, finishing himself off on her breast as Nesta felt the warmth of him sliding down her chest. She would smell like her mate for weeks. 

“So wasteful.” Azriel cooed, pulling out of her as his fingers slid in Cassian’s come on her chest, plunging two fingers inside of her and finger fucking Cassian’s release into her as Nesta cried out in pleasure, Azriel pumping both of their releases deep inside of her. 

Nesta panted as Casian stroke his cock again to get himself harder so he could release more of his seed inside of her as Azriel smiled at him. 

“I’ll be sure to feed your mate properly when I’m in her mouth Cass.” 

Cassian let out a low growl in answer, his cock aligning with her entrance as he slipped inside of her making Nesta cry out at the fullness of him, Azriel may have been bigger than Cassian, but Cassian was definitely girthier . 

He rested his hands on Nesta’s hips using them to assist his cock further inside of her as Nesta moaned in pleasure, adjusting to her mate’s size and the force of his thrust as she met him stroke for stroke, pushing her ass up against him as Cassian growled out to her in response. 

“That’s it, Nes, show Azriel how well you take my cock.” 

Nesta moaned out, unable to form words as she felt the bond opening up between them filling Nesta with the purest form of light she had ever felt as she gasped, Azriel sending Cassian a slight glare when  he did so. 

“Cheater.” 

Cassian smirked at him, never losing his focus on pleasuring her body as he answered, 

“It isn’t my fault that you’re not using your shadows to assist you.” 

Just as soon as Cassian said that, Nesta felt Azriel’s shadows flicker over her sensitive clit. making her gasp at the feel of them. 

“Perhaps, Nesta would like the feeling of being full of more than just your cock.” Azriel growled out as Nesta felt his shadows seep into her dripping center where Cassian was. 

Both her and Cassian moaned at the sensation as Cassian fucked her and Azriel’s shadows, the shadows going into depths unknown that no one had entered, depths that Nesta hadn’t even known existed. 

Tears streamed down her face at the pleasure of it all, impressed that she could feel a pleasure this intense in her life as she bit down on her lip to suppress the moan that so desperately wanted to come out. 

“Don’t hold back on us, sweetheart.” Cassian told her, pulling her mouth away from Azriels’s cock as he pressed his lips firmly to hers. “Let me taste that orgasm.” 

A deep racking sound fell from Nesta’s lips as Cassian pressed his firmly to hers, claiming that moan for his own as he pumped inside of her, Nesta feeling the first splashes of his own orgasm as she felt him seeping between her legs. Azriel’s shadows retreating with it and going back to Azriel as he leaned back stroking himself to the sight. 

She leaned forward taking Azriel in her mouth as Cassian went over to the shadowsinger, capturing his lips within his own as he chased Azriel’s release with a kiss. 

Nesta felt Azriel’s come fill her mouth as she weathered him, Azriel leaning up into Cassian’s kiss as he thrusted up in Nesta’s mouth. Nesta still feeling Cassian’s release between her own length as Cassian pulled away breathless as Azriel leaned back against Cassian and Nesta leaned back against Azriel, content with each other’s company as Azriel leaned forward undoing Nesta’s now messy cornet braid. 

She glanced at the shadow singer as his hands combed out her hair and started working on redoing her braid, Nesta’s eyebrow flickered up in question as she inquired, 

“You know how to braid hair?” She asked him as Azriel gave a low chcukle. 

“You’d be surprised what I picked up over the years.” He answered finishing up the braid as she leaned back against him, soaking in his warmth as Cassian pulled both of them closer, holding the two people he loved the most beside them as Nesta basked in the warmth of the two males, glad to have them in her life.