artethyst

[artethyst]

THIN, MINIMALISTIC HOUSE SYMBOLS DIVIDERS.

TARGARYEN.

STARK.

BARATHEON.

LANNISTER.

BOLTON.

MORMONT.

ARRYN.

GREYJOY.

MARTELL.

TYRELL.

Please like or reblog if you use.

[artethyst]

Wildfire (Slow Burn Alternative)

After a mission in Illyria, you find yourself drugged with some sort of aphrodisiacal breeding tonic. You surprise yourself when you request the Autumn heir to be the one to keep you from enduring a torturous night of pain.

WC: 3.4k

Warnings: Smut, piv, fingering, dubcon (i guess due to the drug but consent is given), sex pollen, this is filthy actually

a/n: If you would like notifications for my writing, you can turn on notifications for the blog @assassinslibrary where I reblog all my fics! I do not do taglists anymore.

Slow Burn (Azriel)

You thought that if your blood had a voice, it would be screaming. It almost felt like it already was somehow. The vibration in your veins grew steadily, pulsing against your skin in a way that filled your ears with a chaotic thumping.

Madja had explained your current state as a result of your recent visit to the Illyrian camps. How one male had taken it upon himself to drug you with a shadow market breeding tonic, most often used to force unwilling females into sexual situations. You weren't sure if the target was placed on your back due to being apart of Rhys's inner circle or if you were attacked just for being a female in their camps. Regardless, it ended with you soaking through your bed sheets with sweat, abdomen cramping, and heart hammering in your chest.

The night would be filled with torment, according to Madja. The drug raised your body temperature, and you burned away any sleep tonic too quickly. So you were to suffer... unless you received assistance.

What that assistance entailed, however, was too much for you to ask of your friends.

Despite the shared history within the inner circle, you hadn't been intimate with any of its members. And at this point, many of the group were mated or interested in others. Asking any of them seemed both problematic and like an insult to their relationships.

Even if you longed for Azriel's help.

So when Madja had asked if there was anyone she could ask to treat you, you spoke the first name that came to mind other than the shadowsinger: Eris.

The name shocked you as much as you were sure it did Rhys. You weren't sure why his name came out of your mouth, and in an effort to save yourself some embarrassment, you even suggested Lucien as an alternative. But the healer had nodded at your plea, and you were certain Eris would be the first suggestion for Rhys to ask.

Both embarrassment and shame curled in your stomach with the pain already radiating there.

He would say no. Eris was not the cruel male the public knew him to be, but he was not overly generous either. He strategized. The male acted in his best interest because no other option presented itself to him throughout his life. You understood his approach, but that did not stop your anxiety at his coming rejection.

Stomach clenching, you tried to control your labored breathing. Deep breaths.

But when you nearly gave up, throat constricting around a sob at just how hot you felt, the door clicked open.

There was no time to compose yourself. Even if there was, your limbs weighed too heavily to make any movement. All you could do was turn your head slightly to eye the visitor.

Your blurry vision deceived you though, because Eris surely did not come to your aid. Right?

Delirium had come for you, you decided. That feeling of insanity and helplessness only made more tears fall down your temples and cheeks. Your imagination would keep you company tonight if nothing else.

"Now what do we have here?"

His deep voice sent shivers down your spine, the scent of autumn leaves and woody spices drifting over you in a way that had your legs clenching together. Eyelashes fluttering, you whimpered.

He was actually here. Cauldron, he came for you.

His footsteps echoed throughout the room, matching the thudding in your chest. You watched as his black boots strided agonizingly slowly toward you before coming into view next to your bed. The male seemed completely composed as he took a seat next to you. The way he leaned back with his arms crossed had his muscular thighs opening in invitation and his biceps bulging.

Gods, if you had any energy, you would have gotten to your knees right then, embarrassment be damned.

"Someone looks a little needy."

"Eris," you whined, tone unintentionally warping from frustration to desire.

"Imagine my surprise when I received a letter from Rhysand, explaining there was a little lamb here that was attacked by an Illyrian brute. And instead of asking for the assistance of someone here, she chose to ask for another, different predator. Me."

You could do nothing but watch him and try to breathe. Sweat coated your skin, and the torment of needing to be touched had you fidgeting and eyeing his large hands just barely tucked beneath his muscular arms. You wanted them on you, everywhere. On your hips, around your neck, in your mouth...

"You either don't know me or really are as dumb as the rest of them."

Maybe you were. But as you looked into his amber eyes, you couldn't help but shake your head. No, he wasn't as bad as the Illyrians. He hated them too. And he wouldn't hurt you, at least not in any way you wouldn't like.

"No?" He responded to your dismissal.

Your voice was raspy, weak as you finally spoke. "Why else would you have come then?"

Silence. He eyed you with interest, taking in more of your desperate state. His attention only made your hips drive up imperceptibly, reaching for something not there.

"Maybe I've been wanting to see what you'd look like underneath me for awhile. Maybe I'm a selfish male who would not let this opportunity go to waste."

You swallowed. "It's not selfish to help me with your actions."

He rose to his feet, leaning over you with a gracefulness that had you preening. His fingers tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear before his lips curled up slightly. He looked like a hunter ready to pounce on his prey.

"That's where you're wrong. From what I know, the cure for this drug comes from my pleasure, not your own, little fox."

Leaning toward his touch before he could snatch it away, you hissed out, "Then use me. I don't care."

His smirk grew, and you relished in his confidence and the sense of control he put off. Because you had absolutely no control right now. And despite his taunts, you knew Eris Vanserra both liked to impress others and had a heart deep down.

Even if you needed him to end this, you knew he would take care of you too. In more ways than one.

He stood straight. A hum leaving his mouth as if he were considering.

"Beg."

Your mouth opened in disbelief. "Eris-"

"I said," he threatened, his strong fingers going to the button of his pants, popping them open with a snap before releasing. "Beg."

Dear gods.

"Please," you found yourself saying, tongue falling victim to your body's needs. Your face heated. "Please help me. Touch me. Do anything."

"Anything, hm?"

He palmed his cock through his trousers, and you felt more frustrated tears fill your eyes at the teasing sight.

"I should have asked someone else."

Your words didn't anger him like you hoped. Instead, he let out a chuckle, hands dropping to the covers on the bed and moving them to make room for him. "No, you're glad you didn't. Because I'm better than those Illyrian bastards, and you know it."

The first touch on your waist had you arching into him immediately, eyes rolling back despite his words. You felt so sensitive, skin screaming for his hands, his lips, his tongue, his cock. He skimmed his fingers teasingly over your skin there, trailing over your chest and to your neck where he wrapped his large hand around it, giving it a testing squeeze.

"I'll help you little fox, but you know as much as I do how this is going to go."

With weakened strength, you lifted your own fingers to wrap around his own, keeping his grip on your throat.

His face came closer, lips nuzzling your jaw before lightly nipping at the skin there. "And while I might like the thought of ravishing my prey, I only like it as much as they do."

Your heart thumped. You wanted him to bite down harder. Before you could stop yourself, your legs were lifting to wrap around him, closing his hips against your own. He could have stopped your movements easily, especially with how weak you felt, but he didn't. Instead, his hardness pressed roughly against your center.

"Say it."

Mind spiraling, you canted your hips continuously against his covered length. "Please," you begged, completely and utterly desperate at this point. "Please, yes, I want that."

In an instant, his hand left your throat and shoved your legs away from his body enough to rip your pants down, shirt soon following after. You gasped at the action, skin now free to his touch, the air caressing and teasing its sensitivity. The contrast of yourself being completely exposed compared to his fully dressed figured had you ready to fully submit to him. Let him be in control, as long as he took this pain away and replaced it with mind-blowing pleasure.

Hands gripped your breasts painfully, and you moaned, begging for more. He was not listening to you though, happy to get his fill of your body before moving on. Eris moved his thumbs over your nipples, groaning at your responsiveness, and lunged forward to take one between his teeth. The yelp you let out had him gripping tighter.

His teeth moved from your nipple to your sternum before moving downward, leaving a trail of nips and marks. At your pubic bone, his fingers lifted to press inside of you, two plunging in immediately with no warning. You nearly screamed, the dying need to be filled so suddenly being appeased.

"Eris, gods..."

"Look how nice I am," he teased, nails from his other hand scratching down your torso lightly. "Getting you nice and ready to take me."

You wanted to chant that you were ready, you were so ready, had been suffering for hours now, but nothing would come out. Eyes clenched so tight you could see stars, and you focused only on the feeling of his fingers scissoring to make room for him, the feeling of him curling against your g-spot.

Pleasure was heightening, climbing on a ladder higher and higher until you nearly broke through the ceiling of your orgasm. Right when your breathing stuttered and your eyes rolling back at the feeling, however, his fingers pulled out. Your moan turned into a sob of frustration, eyes opening in astonishment to see Eris overly pleased with himself, fingers leaving his mouth.

"I told you, little fox, your pleasure won't be what cures you."

Shaking, you glared at him. "I hate you."

Another chuckle left him, but you couldn't even be irritated as you watched the male, completely hypnotized by his hands pulling down his trousers far enough to release his cock.

As soon as it came into view, you fell back against the sheets ready to beg again. You would be angry at yourself later for how quickly you gave up for him. But one look and you were gone.

He stroked himself as he looked over your body, and your mouth watered at the sight of pre-cum beading at his tip. You needed that inside of you, you needed him.

"Gods, you look so hungry for my cock."

If you didn't feel like you were dying, you would have let him fuck your throat. Instead, you just opened your legs for him again.

Eris didn't fall into you, though. His hands reached for your hips, holding tightly before flipping you over onto your stomach with little effort. Hips pulled high, he stood behind you, his height large and intimidating, with his cock swiping through your soaked folds.

"That's better," he breathed out, as if talking to himself.

Your legs shook with the weight of the drug and the rest of your body. But you held yourself up, wanting nothing more than for Eris to bury himself inside of you. The wetness dripping from you and onto the sheets below told Eris exactly that.

His cock collected that wetness, and he let out a groan, teasing himself. "You really are like a bitch in heat right now, huh?"

His hand stroked your lower back surprisingly tenderly to follow his crude words. "Don't worry, little fox. I'll take care of it."

Then he was pushing inside, the large head of his cock stretching your entrance with a sting. You let out a sharp noise at the feeling, and his hands gripped your hips to prevent you from falling forward and away from his movement. While some fingers dug into your sides with controlled restraint, his thumbs circled your skin in encouragement.

"There you go," he cooed, almost mockingly. "Stretch around my cock."

Eyes rolling back at his filthy words, you gripped onto the sheets, fingers curling to hold onto something.

He rocked slowly, and you weren't sure if he did so to help you get acclimated to his size or to allow him to watch as you stretched and worked to take him in completely. Either way, the feeling of him slowly dragging along your walls left you breathless. You whined, mouth opening to beg, when he started speeding up, his hands on your hips pulling you backward to meet his thrusts.

"Yessss..." You moaned out, unable to hold back your noises.

Eris's own moan in response had you clenching on him, cunt tightening at the hot noise. The fire in his veins seemed to absorb the feeling in your own, his cock granting your abdomen a cooling relief despite the heat radiating off him.

Fire circled your wrists suddenly, flaming cuffs pulling your hands from their place in the sheets to be behind your back instead. Your shoulders wrenched backward and your face fell into the sheets fully with the action, legs shaking harder at the loss of balance.

One of his hands moved from your hip to the band of fire, using your cuffed hands to fuck you against his cock. He felt so deep, filling you up completely. If you hadn't been drugged, you knew this feeling alone would have given you a high.

He went harder and harder, until his own grunts and groans hinted at his losing of control. Fingers gripped at you harshly, feeling and soothing and claiming all in one. His balls slapped against you and you wanted him to release everything inside of him into you, feel it dripping down your legs before he enters you again.

"Eris, please." You didn't even know what you begged for. He gave you everything you wanted.

The ferocity of his claiming was otherworldly.

Eris yanked you back farther by the cuffs, lifting your chest from the bed until he was able to lean forward flush against you. One hand now gripped your hip while the other wrapped around your throat, his strong forearm pressed to your chest. You were so close to him, and you wished you could reach back a hand and tangle your fingers in his messy auburn hair.

Instead, you tilted your head over your shoulder, seeking him. His dark eyes, riddled with lust, immediately fell to your lips, and then he claimed you with his own. The kiss was harsh and possessive, and you moaned into his mouth at the feeling. He tasted like heaven. He felt like a god.

Fingers tightened on your pulse point, enough to make your vision dance before he released. He repeated the action again, and your cunt spasmed around him. The feeling of your blood rushing to both your head and your center had you spiraling.

"You gonna milk me dry?" He rasped into your ear, teeth scraping at your ear. "Take everything I give you?"

You nodded desperately, sticking your tongue out to tell him you wanted more, more, more. More of him. He immediately closed his mouth around yours, tangling his tongue with your own.

The fire around your wrists suddenly disappeared, and your hands immediately moved to grip his forearm over your chest, the feeling of his muscles underneath the skin there raising your pleasure further.

He pounded harder, and your veins sang with the feeling. Each and every thrust hit touched everywhere inside of you. You were rising, tingling growing from your center and traveling down your legs, your limbs threatening to go numb.

You gasped at the overwhelming feeling. For the first time in your life, you were apprehensive at what was to come, even a little fearful of the intensity of it. "I can't-"

"Come on. You can do it. Make me cum."

You understood. To make him cum, he wanted you to cum.

One hand still on your throat, lips breathing and speaking unimaginably dirty things into your ear, his other hand came down to your clit, circling with light movements.

The contrast of his harsh fucking and his light teasing of your clit sent you straight into a white hot burst of pleasure. A scream tore from your throat and your legs attempted to close around his hand both in an attempt to get him closer and push away the stimulation. You clenched down on his cock so hard, pulsing around him with such intensity, that Eris let out a loud groan into your ear in response, struggling to pull out with his thrusts.

Your vision disappeared, ears ringing, body twitching, but Eris held you firm against him, muscles straining as he worked himself into you still over and over the best he could.

Once your tense body relaxed, every muscle completely exhausted, you fell limp in his arms. You could feel his own deep breaths against your back, his cock twitching inside of you as he finished filling you, and then he was gently pulling out.

"Fuck," he breathed out behind you.

You leaned forward to fall into the sheets easily, ready to sleep for a week. You could barely see from your tired eyes as he raised an arm and brushed his sweaty hair back, but your eyes tracked him as best you could, drinking him in. His bicep bulged with the action and his large cock, now glistening with your wetness and the remainder of his spend, bobbed heavily between his legs. He crouched down, spreading your legs gently to watch as the rest of him leaked from you.

His amber eyes watched intently, his jaw clenching at the erotic sight.

When he was done, he stood straight, breathing deep while pulling his trousers back up and tucking the gift he had bestowed on you back inside.

Rounding the corner of the bed, he observed your worn out body. When his eyes fell to your wrists, he picked one up lightly to inspect the damage his flames had done. Seeing nothing but just some residual redness, he placed it back on the sheets.

You closed your eyes to finally rest, no longer able to put it off. You heard shuffling with his movements, but you tuned them out as sleep threatened to overtake you. Then the soft fabric of blankets being slowly draped over your bare body brought you back to the surface. At the warm feeling, your eyes fluttered back open.

Eris stood there, a soft look in his eyes before he turned to walk out of the room, as if none of what had just transpired ever happened.

But he stopped suddenly. You watched him curiously, eyes half-lidded, and saw as his back tensed, his body going preternaturally still.

"Are you-?" You started.

He moved forward again as if frazzled, throwing the door open in his alarming state. He strode through it quickly, only for it to swing back closed with a harsh click. The noise seemed to echo in the room.

If you weren't so tired, you might have questioned his behavior. You might have asked what made him react in such a way. If he was alright.

But you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer.

Maybe another day.

[artethyst]

Burning Flames IV | Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!reader Summary: Since you became High Fae there were only two things that scared you: your deadly power and your attraction toward the male you should hate most after Tamlin, Eris Vanserra. Warnings: mention of smut, Eris Vanserra being Eris Vanserra, my english and probably spelling mistakes since I'm also sick A/n: I apologize for my lateness, but uni is kinda taking all my time away. I was dying with the need to write about this scene, and I hope you'll like it🫶🏻 if you want to be add at the taglist just ask! Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

"Eris is coming to the Winter Solstice celebration at the Hewn City." Rhys informed the Inner Circle while you were discussing alliances for the probable war against Briallyn. "He's shaken by Tamlin catching you two meeting with him," he nodded toward your twin and Cassian. "and wondering if we'll balk from the alliance now that there's the slim chance Tamlin might reveal it. Or decide to sell him out first. We need to remind Eris of our continued commitment, and that he is...important to us. That we have his back."

You heard Cassian snarling with disgust while your sister Feyre echoed the expression.

"So buy him a present," Feyre said, waving a hand. "and tell him we all send our love."

You snorted amused at that. "Don't you have some old, dusty jewels? Give him one of those." You said obvious while you rested your arm on the chair's back..

"He'll want more than that." Rhys said, mouth twiching, and his eyes fell upon Nesta.

Nesta. Rhys wanted to use Nesta to win Eris over. The thought alone made you sick. Why her? Why Rhys thought that Nesta alone could make Eris swung at her feet? He had saved your life, not hers. Actually, he would have let Nesta die if it hadn't been for you and Elain.

But of course, Rhysand couldn't know that. No one knew Eris had saved your life during the war, and strangely enough Eris had never bragged himself nor made any comment.

From what Cassian had said it had seemed that Eris had been interest in flirting with your twin, and you had to admit, he had never tried to flirt with you in any occasion. Actually, he had tried to break your patience. So it did make sense, you supposed. Nesta was the most logical choice.

"You want me to dance with Eris?" asked Nesta caution.

"I want you to seduce him." Rhys' words made your stomach twisting with an unease sensation. You didn't know why you were reacting like that, and you told yourself that it was because you didn't want Nesta close to someone like him. It wasn't because the thought of Eris giving his full attention to someone who wasn't you made you sick. No, you could never want something like that. Someone like him.

"You really think that Nesta's dancing with Eris will solidify his loyalty?" you hadn't meant to make the question sound so...disgusted, but thankfully no one seemed to notice. Actually, most of them echoed your tone.

"I think Eris is our ally, and will expect to dance with a lady of this court at the ball no matter what." Explained Rhys to you, probably mistaking your disgust for worryness. "I won't let Feyre within five feet of him, Mor might kill him, and Amren is more likely to scare him off than win him over, so you, Nesta and Elain are the only options, but from Cassian's report Eris hadn't seem too friendly with you."

Cassian should learn when to shut up, you thought annoyed. Of course Cassian would say that, because Eris had made sure to annoy you at the meeting with Lucien, Vassa and Jurian.

"Was Cassian wrong?" asked Rhys carefully, reading something in your eyes that you quickly hide.

"No." You said with a lazy smile. There was no point in telling them what had happened during the war, probably Eris had already forgotten it too. "He was completely right."

Rhys watched you for few more seconds with his violet eyes that sometime seemed like they could look right inside your soul and read it. You checked your mental shield and found it intact, the fire that you pushed down burned brightly around your mind, protecting it.

***

The black dress you had chosen for the night fell comfortably over your body as you walked down the hall of Hewn City's palace. You had opted for something elegant yet less reveling than Mor's and Feyre's. The straps fell lightly down your shoulders, the bodice had a sweetheart neckline with what looked like black flames over your collarbone. You still had to decide if it was a hint that Rhys knew about your power still lingering in your body, or it was for pure imagine. The flames seemed to fell down your body in a lovely silky gown that captured the lights with each step.

Unfortunately, you now had to wear gloves, because the burned scars had expanded all over your hands, and the gloves was the only way to hide them. Thankfully, since it was winter no one ever questioned them, and tonight you had put some long, black, silky gloves that matched your skirt.

You were currently behind Rhysand and Feyre, between Elain and Nesta as the two of them still were on no speaking term. Tonight was a show of power, with your sister's pregnancy annouce and your twin's beauty offered on a silver plate for the Heir of Autumn.

You had appreaciated how Elain had wanted to come, and it didn't go unnoticed to you that she had opted to wear a plain dress with just two pearls in her hair to not outshine Nesta. Elain had always been the prettiest of the four of you, but tonight it was Nesta's time to shine, and she had gladly disguided herself as plain and boring.

As you entered the throne room every eyes fell on you. Not on you, actually. On your sister's swollen belly. You heard gaspes and whispers all around you. Keir's looked torn between anger and shock, and you had to hide an amused grin.

As your eyes scanned the room with a bored expression, you took you ropportunity to look at the redhead beside Keir, knowing he would be too focus on your sister to notice your staring, but as your eyes fell on the him you found two green pounds already staring at you.

Eris was looking at you. Not at Feyre. Not at Nesta, the one supposed to catch his attention. He was looking only at you, and you hated how your heart skipped a beat.

He looked at you like he could admire you for the first time, and somehow it was true. You both knew that no one would notice your staring at each other, because everyone's attention was on Feyre.

You used every second to drank the sigth of him. Eris was dressed in Night Court black, and you could be damned for how handsomely he was. He looked like the darkest of the dark dreams that someone shouldn't have. That someone be you.

That game was dangerous, you realized. Those stolen glances, stolen moments would lead you only in a dangerous territory. But danger looked so appealing when he let his eyes slowly roam all over your body.

For a moment you felt more naked than Mor and Feyre.

Eris must have noticed the black flames on your dress because he slowly grinned. It wasn's a mocking grin, it wasn't even amused. It was one of Eris' grin that you still had to classify.

His eyes met yours again, and he did the last thing you had expected. He winked at you. He fucking winked.

You felt your cheeks getting warmer and you quickly looked in front of you again, dismissing him as if nothing had happened, and for a moment you wished it hadn't.

As Feyre and Rhysand sat on their thrones, you and your sisters went to stand at the foot of the dais, between Cassian and Azriel who looked like they could kill anyone watching at any of you in a wrong way.

Keir and Eris scuttled forward, and while the former bowed, you pointly avoided to look at the latter. "Allow me to exted my congratulations." said Keir and you knew that he didn't mean a word of it.

"And allow me to extened mine as well," said Eris with a voice that could warm even the coldest spot of the Winter Court. "on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court. He shall be thrilled by this news."

Rhysand mouth curled in a cruel half smile, the stars winking iut in his eyes. "I'm sure he will."

Sometime you forgot how powerful and cruel Rhysand could be. He was always gentle and kind with you, with all his family. But the moment that something threated Feyre's life? He become feral, and you were glad for it. You were glad Feyre had found Rhysand.

They gave the crowd some command to make it loose, and when Eris did to follow Keir Rhysand stopped him. "Before you join the merriment, Eris, I'd like to present you with your Solstice gift."

A long black box appeared in his hands, and you tried your best to hide your confusion. Rhysand had never spoken of other gifts beside Nesta, so what was all of this about?

As the box flew to Eris and he opened it you could see the dagger that Nesta had made. You hold your breath as Eris's face went pale. "There's flame in it." He said. "Why give this to me?"

"You're our ally, " Feyre said, a hand resting on her belly. "You face enemies that exist outside of the usual rules of magic. It seemed only fair to give you a weapon that operates outside those rules, too."

You cursed in your mind as Eris understood that the dagger was Made and started to question Rhysand. Eris culd be the monster of everyone's story, but he was no idiot. Actually, you had the suspicious that he might be smarter than he let the other see.

“Ordinarily I would ask you to dance," said Feyre kindly. "but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.” It was the truth. Feyre had bolted from dinner three nights ago to find the nearest toilet. Now she looked at you and your sisters, as if deciding who would dance with him.

You looked away, not really wanting to see Eris admiring your sister Nesta. You focused your attention on the couples dancing, and you couldn't wait to be among them. You didn't have the same passion as Nesta, but you had always enjoyed it if you had a good partner.

You had asked Morrigan to give you lessons too, just to be able to dance freely with whoever might ask you. It had been fun when you had found Cassian too at Mor's lessons, silently agreeing that you would say nothing about the other.

"One of my oldest sisters shall take my place." you barely heard Feyre's words, knowing she would be gesturing to Nesta, so there would be no point to look away from the musicians.

It was when you heard Nesta stiffining beside you and Elain elbowing you that you looked away and gave the latter a confused look. Elain only inclined her head, pointing to something in front of you.

You furrowed your eyebrow, still confused, and looked where Elain was pointing. Your breath caught in your throat as you found Eris standing in front of you with his hand strechted out.

"If I require right, you are the oldest." He said with that lover's voice that tricked your mind.

You gulped and tried to not let your eyes widining too much as you gave him a nod. "Only by few days."

Why was he not looking at your sister? It was quiet obvious that she was the one planned to be offered to him, the one who looked like a queen. Hadn't Cassian said that Eris had been flirtatious with Nesta? Hadn't Cassian said that Eris seemed to loath you? Then why was he looking like that?

You slowly brought your hand on his, as you had done the day he had saved you, and something about his wicked, sparkling eyes told you he remembered it too.

He brought your hand around his arm, and accompanied you at the center of the dancing floor with a royaly grace. Even throught your gloves you could feel the warmness that his body radiated. A warmness that somehow made your body relax. Hadn't you had asked this to the cauldron? Warm, nice fire? Not the destructive flames that burned inside you.

Eris stopped at the very center of the floor, and you could already feel everyone's gaze on the two of you. What a gossip this would be; one of the High Lady's sisters with the heir of the Autumn Court, dancong at the Winter Solstice.

"Saying that you look gorgeous would be minimalizing." Said Eris as he gently put his free arm around your waist bringing your bodies much closer than they had ever been. "But flames are supposed to be red, not black."

You would have smashed his grin if the violin's hadn't started playing. You put your free hand on his shoulder and rose your chin to meet his eyes, with the fakest, sweetest smile you could master.

You had indeed wanted the dress to be red, because it had always been your favourite colour, but the Night Court's colour was black, and you needed to appear as a unit front.

"I wouldn't want to be mistaken for a member of your beautiful, appealing court." Your tone was soft, not wanting to gain any more stares than what you already had on you, but the sarcasm was there. "I find black perfect for this dress."

You were soo the wrong person to complete the job. Nesta was supposed to seduce him, because Eris didn't rail her up like he did with you. It was impossibile in your mind to even think of being nice with him, let alone flirt.

"What is not perfect is this dance, I'm afraid." he said still with his smirk on his lips. You looked at him confused, and he leaned close to your ear making you hold your breath. "Your High Lord and High Lady look like I have just spilled icy water on them. Aren't you supposed to be the oldest? They seem to think I might eat you in any moment."

His hot breath on your neck made it ashamedly hard to concentrate on what he was saying, and you would never admit to yourself that it was only when he leaned away that you found the capacity to speak again.

"We were all convinced you enjoyed my sister's company more than mine." You managed to say, offering him that truth.

The sound of his dark chuckle was like silk on your skin. His grip on your hadn and waist tightned a little, and you would have ripped his hands away if it would have been any other moment, or any other male.

"And why would I lose time playing with her when I have my perfect match right here?"

Cauldron boils you.

It was a bad, bad, bad, bad thing that you knees almost went weak at his words. It was even worst that your stomach seemed to be dancing its own waltz inside you. It had been so long since someone had touched you like that and hell, no one had ever looked at you like that. Ever.

You told yourself that that was the reason why he was having that effect in you. You had been used to the human's beauty, then you had been too busy to save the world to even notice High Fae's beauty. Eris had just happened to be in the right place at the right time and boom, you were weak on your knees for him.

"Someone might stirr if they heard you calling me your perfect match." You said finding a surprising calm, steady voice. "The future High Lord of the Autumn Court should have no equals."

Something flickered in his eyes as he looked at you with the typical gaze full of secrets. "I have no worries of any equal since you seem so determinated to conceal yourself as a rabbit rather than the dragon that you are."

His words managed to make you shut down every...confusing feeling you had inside and rose your chin a bit higher, watching him with a bored expression. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Is that so?" he slightly tilted his head with the same eyes that a predator used to study its opponent. "Then I take the gloves as the newest fashion in the Night Court? Curious, I don't see many other females wearing them."

He made you do a double spin on your feet before bringing you back against his chest. "I would have thought that a princeling had more important things to think about than the fashion in other Courts." You said coldly.

You hadn't realized that the music had ended until a new dance began and Eris easily led you throught that. It was slower, lighter, but you didn't need to think about the steps; Eris was annoyingly good at leading you.

His eyes darkened a little, as if you had just insulted him. The grip on your hand tightened and you hissed in pain as his fingers pushed into the burned flesh of your palm. "Tell me, it's still about fashion?" He tightened his fingers again and you stepped on his foot angrily.

"Do it again and your father will have to name another heir." you hissed still blinded with pain. Fuck off the whole court him thing; you would have never been good at it nevertless. If Eris wanted to play with you, you would play back.

***

Cauldron boils him.

He was so down bad for you. Never in five hundred years he had met someone who could turn him on just with a glare. And the glare you were giving him was of pure challenge and threat.

He laughed at you. He laughed because it was the only thing he could do. He laughed because the alternative was to see if you would still talk to him like that if he pushed you against a dark corner of the palace, knelt and buried his face under the gown of your dress.

That fucking dress.

You looked like a night Goddess of fire, and the Mother knew how happily he would worship you if given the chance.

But he couldn't. Not until his father was alive. Not until he would be free to let you know the true Eris and let you decide what to do about the bond. Not until you desired him as much as he desired you.

"I would like to see you try without any training." he lightly mocked you, needing to see how far he could push you until you finally gave in and unleashed what you had inside. "But I could make your odds better if you just admit what we both know, Little Flame."

He grinned as he sensed the effect that the name had on you. You face stayed neutral, it was your heartbeat that betrayed you. Eris had to admit it, even if you had just entered the game of scheming, courts and alliances you were doing a great job at it.

"I'm afraid I'm not following you." You said giving the room around you a bored look. He knew you were actually seeing if any of your court was listening to the two of you.

Eris had a vague idea of what would happen if you find out about the bond in the near future. You would be caution about it at first, then after few words with Mor and the Inner Circle you would decide to break it, and why wouldn't you? He was the villain in everyone's story, and he was fine with that. He didn't really plan to change that narrative in your head, yet. But he refused to sit still while you burned yourself in your own power and the Inner Circle did nothing to stop it.

"I could train you." He said suddenly serious. "If you are too ashamed to show your precious family what monstrous power you have, you should have no problem showing it to someone who is already considered a monster."

You arched an eyebrow. "Considered?" you asked ironically. "I recall hearing quiet thrutful stories about you for just considerating what you are."

He didn't pretend to be hurt by your words. He knew exactly what you had heard, what he had done, but obviously you couldn't know the whole true. No one did execpt for one. "Careful to let your new ears believe everything they say about me."

"Because you seem so much more trustfully." You said with a ironic smile that he immediately matched.

"Train with me a day every week, and I'll answer honestly to one question of your choice." He proposed before spunning you on your feet. "Maybe you'll make your own idea of me."

Those beautiful, careful eyes studied him, and he almost knelt right there. "Why would I accept? What do you gain from this?"

His grin widened. "I'm pleased to see that those brutes taught you something useful." He mused. "Let just say I think your power will play a key part to my...succesion on the throne, and I rather have you as my ally than my enemy."

You narrowed your eyes, surely pondering every single word he had said. "I won't do the dirty job for you."

Eris knew you meant killing his father, but of course you couldn't say it out loud since Keir was still around. He admired your quick thinking, and he was extremely glad that you were smart enought to guard yourself around people like himself.

He chuckled lowly. "That is a matter I'll deal with alone." He stated firmly and the fingers on your back lightly caressed you, assuringly. "I just ask for your help when my court will need it."

Eris would never admit out loud that he already know what kind of favour he would need from you. The idea had come up as the two of your were talking, but he knew that if he had proposed it right away you would have left him on the dancing floor without a second thought.

"One day of training everyweek with one question of my choice in exchange of my help, once, when you'll need it with your court?" You carefully stated looking cautionsly in his eyes.

He gave you a grin as he leaned his face closer to yours. "Do we have a bargain, Little Flame?"

He had to call all his hundreds years of training to not close his eyes as your scent hit his nose. It was sweet, like cinnamon and caramel. It was everything he recalled to like, to bring him joy.

He smelled the shift in your scent as your faces were dangerously close, and for the first time he was glad that you were new to this world because otherwise your would have smelled the shift in his scent too. And that, would have bring the two of you in a dangerous situation.

"Yes." you said after a while. He could see that you had thought of every outcome of that bargain, you probably had thought about how to tell the others, what reactions they would have and in how many ways it could end badly. "But you have to stop calling me that."

He laughed. "You should have put it into the conditions of the bargain before you accepted it."

As he said those words he felt something stung on his back. It felt like someone was writing something on his skin with fire. It didn't hurt, it was more like a tickle, and when he saw your hand flying from his shoulder to your back, scracthing the same part on your body that tickled on his, he knew that the bargain had been sealed.

The music ended and he gave you a bow, bringing your gloved hand to his lips. He could smell the burned flash, and a part of him wanted to kill Rhysand to have let you do it to yourself. But he only placed a gently kiss on it, sensing how you, elegantly, shivered and gave you a charming smile.

He studied you for a monent. Your eyes were looking at him with what was not surely kindness, but at the same time was not hatred too. You were trying to find your place in this new, cahotic world, he understood. His eyes traveled on your dress, and his jaw clenched. You would have been a beautiful living flame if it hadn't been concealed with black, somehow a represantion of how you wanted to conceal yourself to fit in that Court.

"Let me begin the training now with a little advise." Eris said still with your hand in his. Your eyes flashed with curious. "Do not follow blindly those who walk in front of you. You might find out that black is not the colout that suits you best."

He didn't wait for you to process his words as he gave you a last, parting smile and turned on his heels, already putting his mask back on. "See you next week, Little Flame." he mocked over his shoulder as he walked away.

He heard you curse him under your breath, and it only made him grin amused. He found it surprisingly fun to rile you up, it was a kind of amusement that he didn't feel with anyone else. He needed it as a reminder that his equal was indeed like him: fierce, smart, witty and always ready to fight when needed.

He walked toward Rhysand and Feyre, still seated on their thrones, already watching him with their calculated eyes. He was sure that they were probably having a mental conversation about what they had seen, and Eris fought the urge to smirk.

"Did you enjoy the company of my sister?" asked Feyre politely with a lazy smile. He had to admit that both her and Rhysand did a great job at acting like the rulers of the Court of Nightmares.

"Your sister's company had been delightful." He said matching her smile. Before asking them what he wanted he was curious to test the waters. "But I'm curious; you showed me what I can have, Rhysand. I'm intrigued enough to ask what you'd want in return."

He saw Feyre's jaw clenching. She would never sold her sister, and surely not to someone like him, but it was still fun to imply just that.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Rhysand not betraying a single thought that was in his mind.

"I mean that whatever you want, I'll give it to you if you promise to keep her safe and away from my father." Eris said suddenly serious.

He saw the confusion flashing on both rulers' face as they surely spoke to each other mind to mind. Eris knew he was letting them see too much, but it was the only way he could be sure that you would be safe as long as his father was alive. They needed to know in what danger you were if his father ever find out what you and Eris were.

"Explain yourself better." Feyre commanded with a cold voice.

He gave her a mocking grin. "You keep your oldest sister away from my father, and train her. and I'll give you whatever you want. You wanted to reassure our alliance? This is the prize."

"I cannot force her in doing anything she doesn't want to, but I can come up with the right arrangment for that." Rhysand said calmly. "But it seems foolish for you to offer me anything I want in exchange for...her safety. Why would you care so much about that?"

He could see that both Rhysand and Feyre were trying to understand what kind of game he was playing, what kind of tricks he had in mind, so he let his mind shield opening a little, inviting them in his head to speak the words that he could not say out loud.

"Because it seems that the Cauldron gave two Archeron sisters to the Night Court, and two to the Autumn Court." Eris said in his mind, knowing that they both were listening.

Feyre's face drained of colours as Rhysand's eyes hardned and his deep, dangerous voice sounded in his mind. "Why should we believe you?"

Eris smirked and let the memory of the day he had saved you fill his mind, letting them see it. He replied the moment the bond stirred inside him, urging him to run toward you. He made them see the exact moment your eyes met and his whole existence screamed the word Mate all over again. He made them see how he had foolishly followed you to the King of Hybern, keeping you safe until you had run to Nesta. He let them see how hard it had been to return to his father and hide eveything, how scared he had been when after the war he had been sat beside his father while you were right in front of him, terrified that any gaze might give him away. The last memory was of when he had found you outside the Autumn Court's camp, and he had been so close to grab you and winnow on the other side of Prythian, not wanting you close to his father in any way.

He stopped the memories just as the one of when you had cured him started to pop in his mind, and watched careful the reaction of the two rulers in front of him. "I cannot risk for the bond to snap for her when my father or any of his allies are close. He would hurt her to hurt me, and despide what you think of me, I won't let it happen."

Rhysand studied him with a heavy, dangerous attention. "I could keep her away from you and have you do anything I want just for the chance to see her, do you realize that?"

A test. Eris knew it was a test, because Rhysand would never do something like that, but still Eris couldn't help but laugh ironically. "It would be the first time you'd do something smart, Rhysand." he tilted his head in a mocking grin.

"You should speak of this matter with Feyre then." Rhysand stated, making a good job at sounding bored. "It's her sister you are mated with."

"I could have your head in any moment if I suspect you to be a danger for her." said Feyre in his head viciously.

"I would like to think that the bond would make your sister miss me a little if you do that." he answered ironically placing a hand on his heart. "But I'll give you everything else you need. After all you are my sister-in-the-cauldron, you might find out you'll have more advantages from this situation than your boring mate."

"Go away before I test that bond theory." threatened him Feyre making his grin grew wider.

taglist: @adventure-awaits13 @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huffleruffplant @azysmate @bia-wayne-west @babypeapoddd @lady-targaryens-world @sourapplex @ghostwritermia @asteria33 @pinklemonade34 @tell-me-a-poem @sourapplex @speedypersonawhispers @historygeekqueen @marly500 @webvics

[artethyst]

Earth's Song

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 795 (she's a drabble)

Warnings: Difficult birth is briefly mentioned no major details though.

Summary: Fairies are made for the wind & sun <3

Wings Masterlist

You could see it, just beyond the archway. Only a step away, the golden streams of rays filtering over the flowers. The breeze, a scent of fresh grass, pollen and peonies filling your senses– so close you could almost taste it. The melody of the earth was calling to you, its creatures and plants singing in a verse only you could hear upon your arrival. Your lips tugged into a gentle smile across your tired expression. 

Oh you had missed this.

A soft gurgle pulled you from your musings, your gaze settling down on the little bundles that were swaddled to your front. Your babes, twin sons. Only weeks old. Could they hear it too? The earth's music? it’s song, it’s heartbeat– you were sure they could. Certain they felt it in their bones just like you.

“Isn’t it wonderful..”, you whispered to them, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on the tops of their heads. Wefts of hair as dark as their fathers atop, and their scent so inexplicably yours and his.

“My love…” Azriel spoke, an ache in his tone that seemed consistent with any action you did nowadays. You had tried to step forward, feet moving past the tiles of the River House subconsciously into the outside that was calling you–calling your sons too. Any action you seemed to make these past few weeks only made your mates heart lurch.

“Azriel…” your tone was gentle but firm, your free hand subconsciously rubbing the backs of your babes who were nuzzled against your chest. Their eyes slowly opened and closed under the gentle glow of the sun that reached within the doorway of the house. “I want to– need to feel the earth,” you replied. 

It had been several weeks since you had been outside, several weeks since you brought your baby boys into this world. The birth had been difficult. A thought you didn’t want to dwell on, but something you knew was still very prevalent as you felt your mate's supportive hand press against the small of your back. His free hand still looped with your arm for stability.

It had taken a great deal of convincing for him to bring you here, to let your boys experience the world beyond the safety of the house walls. Azriel, ever the protective Shadowsinger, had been beside himself when he’d almost lost you. The birth of your twins—Illyrian-winged miracles born of a meadow faerie—had been far from easy. The ordeal had left you in a deep, unnatural slumber, robbing you of those precious first days with your sons. It was a cruel twist of fate, one that left you fragile in body and spirit. Even the sacred traditions of your kind had been set aside in the wake of it all.

And well, Azriel’s protectiveness had grown to a level you didn’t know was possible. You understood though. Didn’t blame him; if the roles were reversed, if you’d almost lost him, you weren’t sure what kind of person you’d become in the aftermath. But you were still here. Healing, growing stronger with every passing day.

So you convinced him, explained to him how fairies were made for the wind and sun, your boys, despite only being half of you– needed this too.

You watched as your mate hesitated, bringing you this far had gone against every instinct he had, but as he gazed into your reassuring smile he nodded. Gently moving with you, each step at a time. Your bare feet feeling the soft grass under your pads. The sensation sent a shiver through your body and as you began to ground yourself tears filled your eyes.

The evening sun basked it’s golden hour upon your skin, it’s rays warming your flesh in a way you hadn’t felt in weeks. You had missed this. 

Your babes stirred softly, their tiny forms swaddled snugly against your chest. Their warmth grounded you further. You inhaled deeply, the scent of the flowers and the earth beneath your feet blending with the faint sweetness of your sons.

Azriel’s wings rustled softly behind you as he stepped closer, his shadowed presence a constant comfort as you let yourself lean back against him. You glanced up at him, your tear-filled eyes meeting his gaze, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. 

Wordlessly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead, his gaze moving to his sons pressed against you with a tenderness that made your chest ache. “I love you– I love you all so much,” he whispered, voice rough with emotion.

Your smile was the only reply he needed. Your expression looking fuller than it had done in weeks. And then you hummed, eyes closed as you harmonised along to the earth’s song.

a/n: a little wings drabble, our first snippet at seeing the baby boys...which yes I've finally landed on names. Introducing...Rune & Rain <3

wings universe: @minaethrym @megscabinetofcurios @scorpioriesling @dottedhalfnotes

Permanent taglist: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @alittlelostalittlefound-blog @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria @writingcroissant @searchingforbucky

[artethyst]

Hello, I'd like to order a pumpkin spice + caramel latte with a cookie, please 🙏💕

I also included Atlas in this because I found this deep in my drafts and okay I keep saying it but this one got me 😭😭😭 I have outdone myself a bit with this one

Last chance to order a coffee for gingerfucker week 🔫

“We could cancel.”

She ignored him, her focus on holding Atlas’s kicking legs to put him in his pants. Eris huffed, holding down Atlas’s arms to help calm his son’s squirming.

“Do they really deserve to see him?”

She finished pulling the tiny pants up before turning to Eris, an annoyed look on her face at his words.

“Fostering a relationship between yourself and the people of Autumn means giving them things.”

“Yes, but they know his name, surely that’s enough.”

His mate gazed at him, arms crossed across her chest. The red gown she wore made her look resplendent. Red velvet, off the shoulder sleeves. She was pushing boundaries for Autumnal nobility; ladies were expected to be modest - covered shoulders, covered legs, loose fabrics.

She, however, had slowly been showing more and more skin over the years, setting trends throughout the court. In a quick three years, female’s fashion had changed drastically, a quality tailor or seamstress in high demand.

Her tanned skin looked so warm beneath the red fabric, as if the falling leaves couldn’t resist kissing her skin before they fell.

She wore a string of black pearls, a rarity found only on a short stretch of coastline in the Night Court. She was quick to exchange her normal blues and blacks for varying shades of red, green, orange, and brown. But she could never shake a black accessory somewhere, a tiny homage to her home court, to her family miles away.

“They need to see him, Eris.”

“The last time anyone not apart of our family or staff saw him was against our will.”

“It will be okay. We will show him off from one of the balconies.”

She fixed the tiny bonnet on Atlas’s head, the babe pulling it askew immediately. His chubby fingers wrapped around the ribbon, holding tightly.

“They haven’t seen a High Lord’s babe in a long time. The last one was Lucien - don’t the people deserve a new young heir to adore?”

“The people of Autumn never adored Lucien. He looked weird.”

She gave her mate a look, shaking her head as she looked at Atlas. “Daddy’s so silly.”

“No one has ever called me silly.”

She shook her head, her voice taking on an affectionate tone, not looking away from their son. “Not to his face they don’t.”

The murmuring of a crowd outside caused both of them to look, Atlas taking the opportunity to reach for his mother’s shiny necklace. He tugged lightly, as if controlled by a dragon desperate for the jewels.

She gently wrapped around his hand before he could hurt her. “No, Atlas. That would hurt.”

He looked up, nodding as if he understood her words.

“Eris, they’re growing restless.” She had redirected her attention to him, the playful tone gone, replaced by exasperation.

“Let them.”

��You are very unhelpful.”

“Haven’t my new policies as High Lord been enough to earn their favor? Crops have never grown so well, I’ve lowered taxation rates, worked for fair trading rates between us and neighboring courts. What more do they want?” He couldn’t help the exasperation in his tone, the past few years both incredibly successful but exhausting.

“They want you, Eris.”

“They have never wanted me.”

“They have never wanted the you they thought they knew. They have never wanted a second Beron. But you’re not Beron. You’re different.”

Eris sighed through his nose, looking at Atlas. He hated being on the wrong end of his mate’s stubbornness.

“What if showing them Atlas just gives them a better look before they can take him away? We can wait until he’s older.” Her free hand reached out, brushing through Eris’s hair with a softness he never quite got used to.

“Atlas deserves to be loved by more than us. We can’t lock him away from a court he may one day rule.”

“But I want to.” It was Atlas who reached out, grabbing his dad’s nose and holding onto it. Eris leaned into the touch, his forehead meeting his son’s.

“I know. But he is going to be so loved. And no one will take him away from us.”

Eris had never heard such loud cheering, such audible happiness until the crowd caught sight of his son. It was a sound he would hear two more times, the presentation of his children making him feel closer to the people of Autumn than other act as High Lord.

Most of them could not relate to the power he held, the title given to him by the land, the decisions he made daily having far larger consequences than most could fathom. But they could relate to the title he preferred more than any other: father.

[artethyst]

It’s just to satiate the bond

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 2.3k | warnings: smut, piv, oral (f!receiving)

Summary: an agreement to have sex just to satiate a mating bond neither party wants is a great idea. Surely no one will get hurt, right?

Author’s note: this is part of my gingerfucker series but can be read by itself 😌

Her teeth were grinding as she walked down the hallway, her steps getting faster, trying to put as much distance from her and the large meeting room. She had to get away, she had to hide. She moved further away from the gathering of High Lords, pushing her instincts down, down, down as she went.

It was ridiculous how her body was reacting to just being in his presence, being so close to her mate. She shook her head, angrily trying to dispel that word from it.

Her ears twitched at the sound of quick steps behind her, nearly catching up to her. She quickened her pace, almost breaking out into a run, but the male that had followed her was quick to push her into an open door, shutting it behind them.

“What the fuck, Eris? Let me out of here.”

Eris stood blocking the door, not letting her move past him. Her arms reached for the knob before quickly being swatted away.

“No.”

“What is wrong with you?” She huffed out the question, not expecting much of a reply.

“Me? What is wrong with you?”

“I’m mated to an asshole.” Being so close to him was making her head spin, his scent of whiskey and smoke made her heart rate pick up.

His amber eyes danced with amusement. “Surely you understand mates are equals, so whatever I am, so are you.”

“You are a child.”

“You are the one who ran away.”

“To get away from you!”

“How did that work out for you, princess?”

He was grating on her, annoyance causing her teeth to grind again. She tried taking in a deep breath, hoping it would calm her nerves.

“It’d work better if you weren’t keeping me in here.” Her voice attempted to make the words sweet, missing the mark they came out with too much bite.

“I have a proposition.” It was difficult being this close to him. She picked up nearly every detail about him in this proximity: the freckles that trailed beneath the color of his shirt, wondering if they continued further down. The faint scent of what must be his hounds that clung to him. The necklaces that hung from his neck, draping over ornate fabrics she wanted to run her fingers over.

“We are both less than thrilled at this mating, however I am sure you are having urges that can’t be satisfied by anyone else or yourself.” His words pulled her from the visual inspection, looking up at him to find her distraction didn’t go unnoticed.

She moved her hands across her chest, fingers tapping her elbows. She didn’t want to admit how right he was - even the sight of other males made her want to gag. Nothing and no one had satiated the intense need that thrummed inside of her since it made itself known to her.

She nodded at him to continue, but he merely stared at her. Exasperated, she finally asked, “how do you suggest we go about fixing that?”

“We need to convince our bond we are happy.”

Our bond. The words struck something primal in her, some deep desire she had to be with him.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t think I can’t feel you in my chest in the middle of the night.”

“And what of it? Do the males of Autumn not want their females to know sexual desire? Rather it be unpleasant for her?”

Eris growled, the sound shooting heat through her.

“I can do more with my tongue than any male in the Night Court can do with their cocks.”

His scent was suffocating, the air around her coated with him. It was surely making her delirious, surely the only reason she heard herself saying, “prove it”.

Those two words, spoken an exhale, was all it took for the Autumn heir to move quickly.

He buried his face in her chest, his teeth nipping at the exposed skin of the tops of her breasts. A soft moan escaped from her mouth, his face tilting just enough for his amber eyes to show. He looked like a true predator as starving, wolfish eyes looked back at her.

He lifted her, grabbing the backs of her thighs to hoist her around his hips before she felt the wall hit her back. There was no time to object as he stuffed two of his fingers into her mouth.

“Hush now, Princess. Would hate for your moans to expose us.” Heat pooled in her stomach at his smirk.

Eris didn’t let himself think about what he was doing as he undid the ties on his pants. He didn’t think as he slid her panties to the side, sliding his fingers through her wet folds. He bit back the groan that was making its way up his throat at how wet she was. He didn’t think as he lined his cock up to her entrance, something inside him desperate to keep her gaze on him as he did so.

He watched her violet eyes widen as he sheathed himself inside of her, nearly coming undone himself at how perfect she felt around him.

He wouldn’t think about his previous sexual encounters, never caring about who he was with. Sex was transactional, a means to an end. This was to satiate the godsdamned bond thrumming between the two of them.

He would never admit to her he had taken all his previous lovers from behind, never caring to watch them. Never admit to the stirring his cock felt watching her eyes close, swallowing her moans.

Eris felt himself getting close to that high, felt it creeping through his body as his thrusts got sloppier.

He had to take control, couldn’t allow this weakness. His fingers held her jaw tightly. , examining her eyes with each thrust.

“I hate you,” she gritted out, teeth grinding.

He thrusted hard into her, his gaze seering as he watched her eyes roll back.

“You hate me so, and yet you buck like a common whore for my prick.” His hair was falling into his face, his punishing pace making it harder to concentrate.

“Do you ever stop talking? You’d be much more likable if you did.” Her voice was high and breathy, something inside him knowing just how close she was. Their mixed arousal was pinging throughout his chest, a sensation he had never felt before.

“You weren’t worried about likability when you started dripping on my cock.”

“Fuck you.” Her eyes were closed, searching for every ounce of pleasure he was giving her.

“Aren’t you already?” Hushed words were sending both of them closer to that edge, each desperate to land just one more barb. The arrogance in Eris’s tone sent her spiraling, pleasure ripping through her in uncontrollable waves.

Eris was furiously pumping into her as she milked his cock, her high cresting as he met his own. Between their shared orgasm, there was a split second their eyes met. The vulnerability of what they just did passed through the glance, and then it was gone, locked away deep in both their souls.

Eris’s head met her shoulder, struggling to catch his breath.

“Winded there, Lord?”

He growled at the question, his fingers quickly gripping tight to her before immediately letting go. He pulled back from her, the loss of contact making his chest go heavy. His fingers quickly redid the ties of his pants, a hand moving through his long hair.

The only sound was their labored breaths, filling the room with the knowledge that they could not go back. A fact neither of them would accept.

She moved her skirts back down, desperate to cover that seed that ran down her inner thighs.

Eris moved to the door, his back to her enough for him to bring his fingers to his mouth, swirling his tongue around the remnants of her arousal on it.

-

“It’s just to satiate the bond.” The lie fell from her lips, something she had been telling herself over and over again over the past few weeks since that first time with Eris.

“Do you like how the bond makes you hot for me?”

The pain from the tree against her face was nothing compared to how good each of his thrusts felt.

Her fingers dug into the tree, desperate for some bit of reality to cling to. It felt absurd how common this occurrence was - meeting almost weekly now just to keep the bond inside from exploding.

It was ridiculous how many nights she spent in her bed, her fingers not enough to satisfy her as her mind drifted to the male behind her.

“Better than being eternally sad over you.”

A chuckle came from him before he thrusted deep inside her, his fingers a tight grip over her hips she was sure was going to bruise.

“How would Rhysand react to finding out his precious sister has been reduced to little more than a common whore?”

“Don’t tell me you have to think of my brother in order to get off, hmm?”

His pace was punishing at her words, their back and forths doing more to him than he wished to admit.

Long fingers wrapped around her neck, tilting her head back just enough for her to see his amber eyes full of lust. She couldn’t stop the moan coming from her mouth at the intensity of his gaze, how just the sight of his eyes and one swift thrust of his hips sent her toppling over the edge of pleasure.

His pace quickened, his thrusts working her through her orgasm until he pulled her as close as possible, emptying himself inside of her.

Eris kept looking at her, his gaze focused as she tried to catch her breath. With more effort than he anticipated, he pulled his hands away from her, helping her straighten herself off the tree.

He moved her skirts, helping her straighten them out. His hand met her waist, an almost tender touch before he quickly pulled it away.

“Next time don’t make any plans afterward. You reek of sex and have the markings to prove it.” His fingers pointed at his own face, showing a line where the bark had made indentions into her skin.

He waited, not saying anything, only nodding at her before winnowing away, leaving her stranded in the woods, confused and alone.

-

“I just need a taste.”

Eris Vanserra was kneeling on the ground before her, his body disappearing beneath her skirts. He was not gentle as he grabbed her leg, throwing it over his shoulder.

“Er-oh.” Protestations die on her tongue as his mouth latched onto her cunt, his tongue pressing against the cloth of her underwear.

Her strained ears could barely make out his grumbling about “coming unprepared”, his voice muffled as his tongue made long, sweeping strokes through her folds.

He was pressing his weight into her, the only thing keeping her upright against the tree as he held her in place. The woods were echoing with the obscene sounds from underneath her skirt, but she could not care less.

Suddenly Eris grabbed her other leg, leaving her hoisted against the tree, his neck her only support.

She couldn’t hold in the obscene noises coming from her mouth. One of Eris’s hands let go of her thighs and she could hear him fiddling with the ties of his pants.

“Eris, you filthy thing. Are you touching yourself while you eat me out?”

A growl was all her retort was met with, a bite to her clit making her practically climb up the tree.

He was moaning into her, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through her.

A biting quip was on the tip of her tongue, replaced by a moan as Eris’s fingers pushed the cloth to the side, rubbing his nose through her folds. His usual sharp tongue laid flat as he licked a long stripe across her heat. She shuddered at the sensation, trying to hold off her orgasm for as long as possible. The bond inside her was thrumming, bursting with joy at being pleasured by her mate.

Her hips were desperate as they rode across his face, thighs squeezing his head to keep him in place.

The sound of Eris pumping his cock into his hand was pushing her past her limits, their weekly rendezvous leading her to know exactly how it felt in her chest when he came.

Her high was quickly squashed as he pulled away from her, causing her to fall unceremoniously onto the ground. She let out a soft gasp, both pain and surprise unable to be contained.

“What are you-“ She looked up, chastisement at the ready, only to find her mate gone, nowhere to be found. She stood on shaky legs, using the tree as a support, not wanting to admit the disappointment that followed her as she left.

-

The ground was wet beneath her skirts, the tree biting into her back as she waited. The air was cold and uninviting, as if no one should be out in it without a coat or a lover’s embrace. She tried to ignore the heaviness in her chest, telling herself, “it’s fine.”

She waited. Minutes quickly turned into an hour, the moon high in the clearing above. Goosebumps ran up and down her arms at the late hour. The bond hummed lightly in her chest, nerves too strong to find out the consequences of pulling it.

Were these daliances getting to her, meaning much more than they should? He was supposed to arrive hours ago. He had never left her waiting this long.

Worry consumed her, but the everpresent bond assured her that he was out there somewhere, fine with the distance that lay between them.

She had never waited this long for a male to show up to a date before. She stopped that line of thinking quickly, shutting it down. Reminding herself this is not a date.

She sighed, rejection and embarrassment coming off her in waves. Her chest felt hollow as she looked about the clearing one last time, desperate for any sign she missed him before winnowing far, far away.

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Thanks for reading ❣️

[artethyst]

hello I would like a latte with marshmallow and vanilla

Okay I cooked a bit with this one 😭 Rhys needed a bit of a redemption methinks

Order your own coffee for gingerfucker week here

Latte with marshmallow and vanilla = fluff with Atlas and a bat boy

“Uncle Rhys?”

The small voice pulled him from the papers on his desk, amber eyes looking up at him. His nephew, Atlas, fidgeted on the other side of the desk, a nervous habit his sister, Atlas’ mother, used to do in her youth.

“Yes?”

“Can Nyx and I go flying?”

Rhys sat back in his chair, a bit surprised at his nephew’s question. His grin spanned his whole face, something he couldn’t contain whenever the pride of seeing his son flying through the air entered his mind.

His grin quickly slackened. “You can’t fly, Atlas.” The words punctured Rhys, reminding him of teaching Atlas’ mother how to fly centuries ago.

“I can hold him up, daddy.” Nyx came barreling into the room just in time to wrap his arms around Atlas’ middle, picking the Autumn heir up about a foot off the ground. Nyx’s tanned cheeks puffed out, exhausting himself with the effort as Atlas tried to reach higher, making himself seme further off the ground.

“Nyx can’t even lift you off the ground, Atlas.” He chuckled, getting up from his desk. He rounded his desk, crouching down in front of Atlas and Nyx. “How about we all go flying?”

The cheers from the two small boys grew louder as Rhysand stood to his full height, his wings sprouted from his back, enjoying hearing Atlas’ awe at the sight of them. He crouched back down, scooping both boys up into his arms before running for the balcony. He made his last step on the balcony, his wings beating behind him as there was nowhere left for him to land.

Atlas shrieked in his ear, wiggling to firmly have a hold on Rhysand’s neck as they flew higher and higher. The air was getting colder the higher they flew, the sky a bright shade of blue

Atlas’ screams subsided, turning into ooh’s and ah’s as he and Nyx tried showing each other the various spots of Velaris.

“There’s my school!”

“Is that Uncle Az?”

“There’s mommy’s art studio!”

Their words were filled with amazement as Rhysand remained silent. Atlas’ hair was so vibrant in the sun, it was nearly blinding. His freckled cheeks stretched taut, bursting with joy only a child knows.

Atlas reached for the sky, his short arms not long enough to capture the sun in his hand. Rhys’s wings were an act of defiance, determination to not be kept pinned down. Did the little boy know he couldn’t defy gravity by himself? That no one reached the stars without help?

He spun through the air, delighting in the childish screams that accompanied being upside down. He flew them over the tops of Velaris, his grin growing as he began their descent onto one of the many rooftops downtown.

The boys groaned, the end of the flight disappointing them. Rhys kept them in his arms - they were almost getting too big to carry, a fact he did not want to mention to either his mate or his sister.

He kept a tight grip on them, his fingers desperate to cling to their childhood, keeping them young and happy for as long as he could.

“What’s a midday flight without cookies?” Their small, round faces quickly lit up as Rhys maneuvered to their rooftop access door, slipping inside to indulge in the whims of two small boys.

[artethyst]

please PLEASE one STEAMING hot caramel cappuccino + a pumpkin spice americano with marshmallows…(the modern au of her finding out she’s pregnant with atlas? make it angsty? like it’s a big family fight esp because she’s unmarried maybe…IDK HOWEVER YOU IMAGINED IT QUEEn!)

omg modern gf pregnancy reveal honestly iconic I went with her finding out but if someone wanted a huge family blowup I could absolutely do it 👀

Order a coffee for Gingerfucker week here

“Az, I can’t look.” Your words were spoken through the door, apprehension lacing every word. The wood felt so solid beneath your back, but you needed more support than it offered. “Can you- can you come in here?”

You heard shuffling from the other side of the door, scooting forward off the door to allow Azriel to slip in. You leaned against the wall instead, letting his large body slip inside. He shut the door behind him, keeping his eyes on you, not once even looking toward the bathroom counter.

“I’m not touching it.” He slowly sank down next to you, his long legs scrunched together in the cramped space. You slightly leaned into him, already feeling braver with his support.

“Why not?” You moved your gaze from the wooden cabinets in front of you, looking up at him.

“You peed on it.”

“I only peed on part of it and the part I peed on has a cap on it.”

“Every relationship has a line.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You looked away from him, taking in the perfectly cleaned tiles of the floor. He was right - you couldn’t help wondering if Eris was that line.

“I’m not looking.” You knew what he was telling you. He couldn’t be the first to know the results. You had to know first. He couldn’t be the one to tell you this.

“Okay.”

“We can sit here until you’re ready.”

“What if I’m never ready?”

Azriel thought over your words, chewing them around in his mind. He took a moment, wanting his words to be right when they came out.

“I know you. I’ve known you for a long time. There has never been anything you haven’t been able to handle.”

His eyes held such sincerity, his strong gaze enough to help push you up off the floor. You closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath. You and Eris had been so careful when sneaking around, multiple layers of birth control potentially ineffective.

You squeezed your eyes shut, deciding if it was positive, you would call Eris. You wanted him here, but it would have been impossible to sneak him into your family’s lake house. If it was positive, you’d make some excuse to leave. You had to see him. This wasn’t a phone call conversation.

It was a long weekend, most of your family out of the house on an alcohol and grocery run. Azriel came in this morning, unable to leave the city until a few hours ago. You had called him, asking him to stop at a pharmacy on the way in and to make sure everyone was gone before he crept in.

He hadn’t asked anything, only wanting to know if you wanted to be alone. You thought you had, initially keeping him on the other side of the door. But Eris couldn’t be here and you weren’t sure you could face this completely alone.

You looked at the stick, the word ‘pregnant’ in bold letters looking back at you. It felt like a turning point in your life - nothing would be the same, everything would have to change. You would have to come clean - no more lying, sneaking, or hiding.

“I’m pregnant.” The words tumbled from you, your brain trying to rationalize this outcome. You had realized this morning you were late, your period overdue by several weeks. How had you not noticed until now? You cut in before Azriel could say anything. “Don’t ask. You can’t ask.”

“Was it consensual? Because I will-“ you cut him off, unable to listen as his voice rose slowly, his brows knitting at the thought.

“It was consensual. But you can’t ask.”

“Okay.” You could hear how much he wanted to know, your best friend’s constant need to know everything practically yelling at him.

The two of you sat in silence, but you felt Azriel moving slowly, as if warning you of his impending touch. His scarred fingers wrapped your hand, squeezing softly as he spoke.

“If you need someone to, you know. Whatever you choose. I’ll be there for you.”

Doubt began creeping in. If he knew it was Eris’, would he? Or would he never wish to see you again?

“Thanks Az. But I think- I think I want it.”

You wanted it all with Eris - the baby, the publicity, the scrutiny, the fallout from your family. You wanted every last bit of it as long as he was right next to you.

You wanted it all - your family, Eris, this baby. But if you had to pick sides, you’re picking Eris over and over again.

[artethyst]

peppermint latte with marshmallows 🥹🥹🥹 I just know Lucien’s first time meeting Atlas was so heartbreakingly cathartic… can we get an emotionally devastating insight into him holding and meeting Atlas was like my saviour 

Okay bestie this was so 😭🥹 to write

Order your own coffee for Gingerfucker week from this menu ❣️

Peppermint latte with marshmallows = Lucien and Atlas fluff

The Forest House was warmer than his memories of it. The walls colored more black and dreary in his mind, memories of cruelty darkening the vibrancy of Autumn.

He stood just before the doors to the dining hall, the smells of breakfast wafting through the air. Pumpkin pastries were calling out to him, his stomach nearly growling in desperation for the sweet treat of his childhood.

Mere hours ago his nephew was born. A tiny thing who looked just like every other Vanserra: bright red hair and some unseen determination.

Eris had arrived quickly after Eris’s invitation, hoping to fill the house with people his mate loved, everyone rotating in and out to talk to her before her labor began.

But that was twelve hours ago. Lucien slept in his old room last night, his head slightly throbbing from the bottle of wine he found hidden in the floorboards. His arrival yesterday felt grand - a new babe nothing short of a miracle for fae. But he woke up this morning feeling out of place and couldn’t quite shake it.

He grabbed a pastry, opting out of sitting at the magnificent table. It was stunning - thousands of years old, beautifully maintained oak.

“Lucien.” Eris’ voice was colored with surprise,

“I didn’t expect you to still be around.”

He grinned, raising his pastry in a toast. “I couldn’t leave without my favorite breakfast treat.”

Eris’ face was lined with exhaustion, but he looked almost brighter.

“I should be off.” He had no idea why he lingered overnight, unable to shake the draw of his childhood home.

“Will you see them before you leave?” He hadn’t planned on it, wanting to slip out unnoticed, an exit strategy leftover from his younger years.

“Is she awake?”

“Yes, they both are. There is no telling when Atlas will fall asleep again, though.” His brother beamed with pride at the mention of his son,

Lucien took the long route, taking his time climbing the stairs of the Forest House. They seemed much grander in his memories, even though he was well into adulthood when he left.

The walls were different - covered in paintings depicting more than just his birth court. They showed several courts - landscapes depicting a snowy night, one showing nothing but the radiant colors of Starfall.

He knocked on the door, entering after a soft voice gave him permission.

“Lucien, you rat. I didn’t know you were here.”

You looked radiant in the large, red chair. It’s surprising how long it took Lucien to realize the mating bond between his brother and you because red hues always seemed so natural against your skin.

“Come, sit.” You looked to the spot next to you on the couch, the ornate red fabric groaning beneath his weight. “And how are you?”

“You just had a babe and you’re asking me how I am?”

“Well, Lucien, I thought it was obvious how I was doing.” He couldn’t help the smile he cracked. “I’m alright, I suppose. The house looks better with you around.”

“Well, Beron wasn’t exactly known for his interior decorating, was he?” Your joke ignited something in Lucien’s chest, his long presumed father’s name not quite carrying the same weight it did when he was alive.

“Do you want to hold him?” He’s not sure if you noticed where his mind went, but he was thankful for the distraction, nodding.

Lucien looked down at the impossibly small thing, the hair even brighter than he remembered from the brief glimpses he got.

“Yeah, alright. Hand him over.”

He moved slowly as he grabbed Atlas, the tiny thing hardly caring as he shuffled into a new set of arms.

Lucien could define his brother into two people: the Eris that he knew as a child, who lifted him high into the air, helping hjm reach as high as possible for apples in the back orchard.

And then there was the Eris their father wanted him to be. The one who said and committed so many atrocities Lucien wasn’t sure where his influence began and ended in Prythian.

They were both just babies once, depending on someone else to teach them how to love and be loved.

Marigold always taught Lucien how to love. There were always glimpses of estrangement between Marigold and his brothers. They all loved her, but she always kept them at a distance.

“He looks just like Eris.”

“That’s what everyone is saying.”

By the gods was he beautiful. Just like his eldest brother in so many ways.

“He’ll be a great male.”

Lucien didn’t know which one he was talking about.

[artethyst]

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 14.7k | warnings: depictions of violence, gore, blood, bodily harm

Summary: your relationship with Rhysand had been icy at best, but your attempts to reconcile are quick to be shot down. A rash decision leads you to endangering your life - can Eris find you in time? Can he save your infant son?

Author’s note: happy Gingerfucker Week to all who celebrate!! My first post has to be the most anticipated gingerfucker fic ever - otherwise I’m sure yall would kill me lmao

“Eris, we’ll be fine. Feyre wouldn’t let anything happen to us. But if it would make you feel better, you may winnow us there.”

The babe in your arms slept softly, the smallest crop of red hair peeking out from his swaddled head. Atlas was so tiny, yet had grown so much in his one month of living. The last babe you remember spending prolonged time with was your younger sister, and even though a baby’s basic needs were the same, caring for a wingless babe felt different, almost unnatural.

Being a young female in Illyria meant spending many hours and nights helping the other females with their young. Atlas was likely the first babe without wings you had ever seen. It still surprised you to rub your hand across his empty back or that you didn’t have to stretch his wings multiple times a day.

Only a quick winnow trip separated you from your nephew, leading your impatience to grow with each moment Eris spent rifling through trunks. You were dying to see the toddler, having missed several months of his life due to your brother’s refusal to see you. Things were still rough between the two of you (not from your lack of trying), but they seemed to be improving. It felt right to spend a few days there - to let your family see Atlas, hold him, spend some time with the three of you. It might be foolish, but a tiny babe is enough to have at least some of the pressure off of your mate.

Your words did little to slow him as he flitted about the room, a cloud of anxiety following him as he searched for something you weren’t entirely sure existed. He moved about the room, opening trunks and moving their contents around before closing the lid in a huff. If you weren’t getting annoyed at the delay, you would be amused by his antics. 

“Er, if it’ll really make you this upset, I can wait until tomorrow when you’re able to stay with us.” The possibility that Eris was purposely stalling wasn’t lost on you. He was less than thrilled about this visit, however he was unlikely to ever stop his mate from getting what she wanted.

“No, no, you were adamant about arriving tonight so you could see Nesta on her birthday and- aha!”

From one of the seemingly thousands of chests around your room, all full of gifts from every High Lord, advisor, and courtier the two of you had ever come into contact it seemed, Eris procured a tiny yellow blanket, one end of it full of stuffing to give the illusion of the head of a duck. He raised it quite proudly as if it were a trophy, gallivanting over to the two of you as if he were a prized mare.

“What is that?”

“It’s Atlas’ favorite blanket.”

You squinted your eyes at him, clutching the babe tighter to your chest. The blanket looked brand new, unmarred by the constant stream of dribble Atlas left everywhere he went. Eris ignored you in favor of situating the blanket into the crook of your elbow, situated next to his son. “He’s three months old, he doesn’t have a favorite blanket.”

“Surely pregnancy has not completely rotted your brain. This is his favorite blanket.” He ignored the glare you sent his way, furthering your annoyance. You gripped Atlas tight in one arm, using your free hand to smack Eris’s bicep. An incredulous look overcame his pale face as he turned back to you. “You’ll wake the babe - set him down before trying to get physical with me.”

“I’ll get real nice and physical when I throttle you.” Your threat was not received as you had intended. Instead of coiling in fear and cowardice, your mate moved about, putting everything back into all of the various chests. “Then you’d be late for dinner and breaking Madja’s rules, and I never took you for a tardy rulebreaker.”

“I can throttle you without breaking Madja’s rules.”

“My love do not pretend if you were to kill me you wouldn’t be riding my cock as you did it.” You gasped, moving to press Atlas further into your chest and covering his other ear with your hand. You hissed his name, sending a barbed spike down the bond in frustration. Eris’s hands met his hips, amusement quickly turning into exasperation. “He’s asleep.”

“He can hear you!”

“He is in a deep sleep from spending nearly an hour on your tit. He’s going to be out for the next hour or two.” Eris felt your frustration through the bond, placing his hands on your shoulders, causing you to look up at him. “Come now, I’ll escort you both to Night, see that you are safely in Feyre and Rhysand’s care, then I’ll come back here until tomorrow.” 

Eris moved past you, grabbing the bags you had packed before putting them across his shoulders. He reached an arm out, taking Atlas from your hands and securing him to his chest. You reached out, already missing the warmth of your babe, a hand pressed to his back to feel his slow breathing. Eris moved his free hand up to your face, fingers soft caressed your cheek.

The world changed around the three of you, Atlas shifting slightly beneath your hand as the orange curtains you recently had hung up on the brown paneled walls were exchanged for the light blues of the foyer of the River House. Atlas didn’t stir, but the sudden change in the world made you slightly dizzy. It had been months since you had last winnowed, a fact more pronounced by the stagger in your stance.

Eris had been writing to Rhysand, requesting special permission for him to winnow directly into their home. In true Rhysand fashion, he turned it into a much bigger spectacle than it was by placing special limitations on it, telling him he’d change the wards when everyone departed at the end of the week. His letter contained an additional note at the end, stating, “I will, however, allow Atlas in through the wards permanently in case he were to be a savant and learn to winnow and his first action be to leave you.” You had sent Rhys a responding scathing letter using words Eris was not entirely certain were real. 

Feyre and Rhysand were waiting in the foyer, Feyre quickly standing off of Rhys’s lap to embrace you. Feyre always treated you differently than the others did, perhaps because she knew how awful it could feel to be as no more than an extension of Rhysand. Or perhaps because she knew what it was like to go to the ends of the earth for your mate. 

You melted in her embrace, her lilac and pear scent a bit flowery but welcome. Her hug was gentle, careful not to squeeze too hard, something the High Lady had to work at perfecting after being turned high fae. It had taken years for her to master her grip strength. That time was not missed, however, the crushed door handles were always a source of amusement.

“Eris,” Feyre smiled, reaching her hands out after untangling herself, shifting to look at the High Lord, “hand over the baby and no one gets hurt.”

You giggled, pushing Eris toward her outstretched arms. She cooed at the bundle as it was put into her arms, her fingers moving the blanket so she could see his face. She made little faces, the Cursebreaker nowhere in sight as the babe reached out for her, gently grabbing her loose hair.

“He looks just like you, Eris.”

“How unfortunate.” Rhys ignored the pointed look he received from Feyre, picking lint from his jacket as he strolled forward. You stayed silent as he wrapped his arms around your body, and you couldn’t help but melt a little in his embrace. He was an asshole, gods was he an asshole, but he was still your brother and you loved him so dearly. You could feel the tension slough off of Rhys’s shoulders in your embrace, hoping this weekend could be a step forward for all of you.

Eris leaned down, kissing Atlas on the forehead before softly rubbing his head. He gurgled in response, causing Feyre to chuckle. 

“I just want to eat his little cheeks! Nyx doesn’t have his chubby cheeks anymore, it’s a real shame.” Her hand gently smoothed over Atlas’s cheeks as she spoke, her heart breaking over realizing just how much her little boy had grown.

“He’s not on the menu tonight, Feyre.” 

“I know, but I just want to eat him! He’s truly adorable.” Feyre continued making faces, certain she could get a tiny giggle from them. She puffed her cheeks and moved her lips a bit, deflating at the indifference Atlas showed her. 

“I trust that your wards are secure enough for the two of them.” Eris cut into the discussion, having noticed the sun moving through the windows. Stacks of papers sat on his desk waiting for his eyes to peruse them in preparation for the next day’s council.

Rhys rolled his eyes, nearly scoffing at the male’s tone. “If they weren’t sufficient, would I allow my mate and son to live in them?”

“Rhysand, I am not in the business of trying to make sense of every decision you make.” Rhys opened his mouth to respond, but Feyre’s voice cut through the growing tension, extinguishing the sparks the two High Lords were sending each other. “That’s enough, thank you Eris for winnowing them here. We’ll be seeing you tomorrow?” 

His amber gaze was glued to the tiny bundle before dropping the bags he was holding. The Autumn High Lord did not want to leave his son. He was still so small and so vulnerable. He remembered all of his brothers at such a size and it never ceased to amaze him how much newborns truly depend upon their parents. He looked back up to his mate, one last confirmation needed. A slight nod was all it took before he cupped her jaw, swiftly kissing her forehead.

“I will see you all tomorrow, then.”

-

Feyre had left quickly after Eris’s departure, returning Atlas to your arms before checking on Nyx. Truthfully your sister in law looked exhausted, and you were sure she was taking any opportunity that Nyx slept to take a nap of her own. She had written to you just last week that Nyx was in a sleep regression and she and Rhys were not having a great time. You had offered to reschedule your visit, but Feyre insisted you come and outright demanded to see the babe. She had said Nyx had lost his baby smell ages ago and she was convinced smelling it on Atlas could get her through this sleep regression.

You sat in Rhys’s study, Atlas sleeping on your chest after having just fed and changed him. Before running off, Feyre had given you one of Nyx’s old onesies, the pale babe in your arms looked so out of place in the black fabric. It felt so strange to be back in Rhys’s study - it must have been at least two years since you had last been in this room. It looked exactly the same - the massive portrait of Feyre looming over the two of you. So much had changed the past few years, and yet nothing had. Rhys looked exactly the same sitting across from you. If you placed Atlas down, it would be as if you had never left.

“Watch out for Cassian.”

Rhys’s words confused you. You waited for further explanation, looking up to find Rhys’s gaze on Atlas. Deciding he likely won’t tell you, you asked, “why?”

Rhys leaned back in his chair, the leather groaning from the shift in weight. “He followed Feyre around for months, asking to try some of her milk.” He laughed at your grimace but continued. “Someone told him the health benefits of breastmilk and he’s more than determined to get his grubby hands on some.”

“Eris will be thrilled to hear that.”

You could hear his retort clear as a bell in your mind. “A bastard so desperate for a mother’s love he’d suck random teets to get it.” You decided it was best kept to yourself.

You ignored Rhys’s scowl at the mention of your mate. “Do you think he’s trying to convince Nesta to have a babe so he can take the milk for himself?”

“I’m absolutely sure of it. Nesta kicked him out of the house for a few days because he wouldn’t stop trying to make everything into a deal to impregnate her.” Rhys was smiling at the memory of a downtrodden Cassian slipping into the River House one night, Feyre passing him as he grumbled about her sister. You laughed softly at Cassian’s antics. 

It felt strange to be back here - in the Night Court, in the River House. As if you hadn’t left, your family continued on. Their lives continued with or without you. Your heart felt a slight twinge at the realization. You would choose Eris again and again, but you did miss the everyday antics of your family.

“Have I told you that Eris’s hounds detest Lucien? He visited a week prior and two of them worked together, one in front and one in back, to table top him into some mud- what is that face for?” Rhysand tried to recover the earlier smile, his mouth slowly forming into a grimace. It was impossible not to notice - he looked as if he smelled something terrible.

“Nothing. Just remembering something I have to do.” A lie. Your blood was heating beneath your skin. It annoyed you to no end whenever Rhys lied to you, something you hadn’t been able to shake since childhood. It made you irrationally upset, hormones raging through you.

“No, it’s because I was talking to you about Autumn, wasn’t it? Can’t you at least pretend to care about my life?”

“I do care.” He leaned back in his chair, trying to give off an air of nonchalance, but his eyes remained sharp.

You stood slowly, ensuring your feet were steady as you rose with Atlas. “I won’t sit here and listen to you lie to me, Rhys. I thought we were past this, I thought things were different now.”

“They are different.” His curt responses caused your nostrils to flare, your jaw tightening with every word.

“Because I made them different?”

“Your words, not mine.” You groaned, feeling like a little girl before him. He looked like he were dealing with a petulant child, his gaze only adding more fuel to your anger.

“You are so..” you trailed off, not knowing where to start. Pigheaded, brainless, annoying, condescending.

Rhys’s mouth turned into a snarl. “Think any harder, why don’t you?”

“Oh, you’re such an asshole!” You cradled Atlas’s head closer to your chest, placing a hand over his ears. “You’re such a dick, Rhysand. You can’t stand that I have a life away from you and this court.”

“I tolerate it.”

Your jaw dropped as his words tried to take shape in your mind. “You tolerate it? What the fuck does that mean? I’m trying to open up to you about my life, Rhys. About my home. I’m trying to fix things.”

“Fix the things you broke? Why don’t you just go back to your new home, then, if Night is so inferior you have to cross courts for cock.”

You stilled, slowly turning towards your brother, head cocked. The tension had reached its boiling point but you weren’t shying away from it. “Is that all you think of me then? Someone who gave up her title, her name for love. That I did it all for a quick fuck?”

“Don’t act as if you gave it all up for him.”

“You forced me to!”

“I have never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to.” He rose to his feet, his hands slapping on his desk accenting his words. The air went cold at his words, the insinuation lingering.

“That’s rich, Rhysand. You spout off about choices, but really it’s always ‘option A: what Rhys wants’ or ‘option B: perilous death and despair’.”

“Maybe it’s because if I don’t guide you, you make stupid decisions.” His eyes flickered to Atlas, and your blood boiled beneath your skin. You took a step forward, jaw clenched as you snapped at him. 

“Are you insinuating that Atlas was a stupid decision?”

“I’d never insinuate what I can convey with words.”

Tears stung in your eyes, one landing on the tiny head in your arms. The room was too stifling, too suffocating. You had to go anywhere but here.

“Well, if insinuations are out the window, listen to me loud and clear: fuck. you. Fuck you, Rhys. Sorry I don’t fall into line with the path you planned out for me. Sorry for making my own choices. Sorry that the Mother made plans for me and didn’t ask for your input. And I am terribly sorry for Feyre because you are an asshole!” 

You couldn’t take it anymore. You winnowed into the void. If you heard Rhysand’s voice for one second longer, you’d say something horrible. Irredeemable. Anger simmered at his words, claws desperate to come out and stoop to his level. He never understood your choices, never tried. No matter how many times he had promised to listen, Rhys had never tried to fix the walls he had put up between the two of you. 

The world shifted as you thought about your home in Autumn, the brilliant leaves of the forests, the warm spices of the kitchen, your mate’s touch. A blur of colors passed and your throat tightened as shame washed over you. Eris was right - you shouldn’t have come. You needed more time. Rhys needed more time. You clutched Atlas tighter, taking comfort that you had him, at least. 

Mind hazy, you moved through the courts, the world flashing with sunshine, the rush of an ocean, and the patter of rain until your magic unraveled, and the two of you fell from the air onto your back into a wooded area. At the impact, Atlas sniffed and then whined as he rubbed his face against your shoulder.

You took in your surroundings, opening your eyes to the bright afternoon sun peeking through the trees. Your eyes darted the area, looking for any signs of life as you laid still. Atlas moved in your arms as you maneuvered the two of you, trying to sit up to lean against a tree for better sight. Once you were certain no one else was around, you pulled Atlas away from you, unwrapping him from his swaddle to assess him for any injuries. His wailing was piercing through the woods, a sure cry to any creatures that were here.

You shushed him as you checked him, content that his worst injury was being woken from a nap. His cries were lacerations on your heart, each tiny inhale causing so much distress. It nearly cracked you in half, deep breaths a half hearted attempt at self-soothing.

The land was unfamiliar, nothing about it gave you any information about where you could be. The two of you were surrounded by trees, none any species which were familiar. The green leaves blocked out most of the sun, occasional streaks of light passing through. This didn’t feel like any of the solar courts - did you winnow past the mountain? If you had, you would have landed in Winter, or if you veered off course in Summer. Maybe you overshot and ended up in Spring?

The two of you moved about the area, your feet crunching on dry leaves as you went. You hadn’t made it very far before stumbling over a large root, some how hidden beneath your skirts. You barely caught yourself, the jerking motion causing another round of screams to come from Atlas. His little face was so red from crying. You looked back to the spot you had landed, hoping to sit back against that tree once more, but the land behind you wasn’t what it had been. In its place was a swampy scape, several inches of water that would have made your trek impossible. You clutched Atlas tighter to your chest, tucking his head beneath your neck.

You swiveled your head around, breathing labored as you realized you were somewhere you haven’t been in centuries. Where the land was nonsensical and ever changing, where horror stories began and ended. The land above the mountain where atrocities occurred in the caverns and tunnels beneath it. 

The two of you were somewhere in The Middle. A land no court wanted for themselves, the tireless mazes too much for any fae to justify living in.

A land no one wanted to be lost in.

-

Pumpkin wandered into Eris’ room, the small pup clearly lost without Atlas to follow around. Eris ignored the whimpering from the hound, the beast having grown incredibly close to his son in a short span of time. It was sweet the way the hound trailed behind him when he was carrying Atlas, shushing and singing him to sleep. Eris was especially happy to see Pumpkin and Clover standing on high alert whenever Atlas was being fed. It soothed some part of him to know even in moments he had to step away from, his family was well guarded, even if just from his brothers.

Eris reviewed his notes, annoyance simmering beneath his skin at the distance between him and his family. He’d never deny you anything, but if you had had any doubts about spending a night without him, he wouldn’t complain about your presence in Autumn for one more night.

Pumpkin whined once more, Eris’s pen dropping at the sound. His chest felt hot with anger, something he’s unsurprised by. Any visit with Rhys often left the two of you fighting, your anger flaring through his veins as you fought. Your own feelings were compounding his own, utter annoyance at the meeting that kept him away from his mate. 

Eris felt a sharp tug in his chest, nearly pulling him from his seat. Everything inside of him was pinging, his chest felt heavy with fear and uncertainty. What was happening over there? He waited a moment, trying to parse out each emotion. The anger in his chest subsided, every instinct inside of him urging him to go. He abandoned his notes, watching the brown hues of his study swirl and churn into black and blues.

-

Feyre looked about the office, confusion crossing her blue gray eyes as she didn’t find who she was looking for. “Rhys, where’s your sister?” Feyre’s voice echoed across the room as Rhysand took another sip from his glass of whiskey, slumped in his chair.

“Autumn.”

Feyre looked around, as if he were lying, covering up her hiding somewhere in the room to surprise her. “What do you mean she’s in Autumn? She was supposed to stay here for a week so we could spend time with her and Atlas.” Rhys shrugged, his eyes unable to meet Feyre’s, “she left.”

Feyre’s eyes were skeptical, certain that her mate was leaving pieces out. Things had been tense, but surely it didn’t take her mate three hours to scare off his sister?

“Did Eris take her back? Change his mind about his mate being here?”

Rhys gritted his teeth at his brother in law’s name, sinking into his chair slightly, “no.”

Feyre ticked her jaw, determination flooding her to understand her mate’s standoffishness. “Was she upset by our accommodations?”

“No.”

“Did Cassian annoy her into leaving?”

“No.” It came out as a growl, causing Feyre’s eyebrows to raise. “Just cut to the chase, Feyre. Ask what you really want to know.”

“What did you do?”

He sucked in a breath, as if the question were shocking. “Words were exchanged.”

That was all Rhys was able to get out before the doors to the room burst open, the wood hitting the walls as all of the heat was sucked out of the room, everything going cold as the High Lord of the Autumn Court stormed in, his rage palpable. Cassian trailed behind him, trying and failing to hold him back, unable to stop his path.

The redhead looked around the room before he stalked over to Rhys, grabbing the collar of his tunic before his hand connected directly with his eye, spitting out, “where is my mate?”

Rhys wrapped his hands around Eris’ wrists, trying to get him to stop. Cassian’s hands wrapped around Eris’ biceps before quickly pulling them away, his hands smoldering.

“Stay back, pigeon, if I find out you had a hand in this I’ll burn more than just your hands.”

Eris was a blazing storm inside of the house - his flames were erupting over the surface, turning the room red with heat. Dark tendrils of shadow coated the flames, attempting to extinguish them. The flames burned a bright blue in response, whirling around the tendrils, burning them up.

“Did my sister come to her senses and leave you? Ran off with one of your more capable brothers?” Rhysand’s smirk dropped as Eris hauled him from the chair, pressing his back to the wall. Eris’ long fingers dug into the lapel of Rhys’ dark coat, the fabric singing as the redhead pressed him into the wall. 

“Watch your tongue, Rhysand. It would be a remarkable mount on my wall.”

The two males snarled at each other, Rhys moving his leg out to get Eris off balance. He faltered just enough for Rhys to get momentum, swinging his fist into Eris’s face.

Feyre and Cassian were scrambling as the two continued their brawl, both High Lords successfully bruising the other.

“Where is she, Rhys? Have you locked her away in a tower, thinking I wouldn’t notice?”

Rhys pushed Eris off of him, hands moving to straighten his jacket to find his lapels singed off. 

“Perhaps you need to hone your abilities at hide and seek before Atlas is older.” Rhysand’s nonchalance caused Eris’s anger to burn brighter, certain the day was going to end with the Night Court in ashes.

“Why can’t I find my fucking mate but I can feel her desperation and fear in my chest?” Eris’s words clanged through the room, everyone stopping to take in his words. Feyre moved closer to him, her voice soft. “What do you mean, Eris?”

“I mean,” he snarled in Rhys’s direction, “something's very wrong. She has never felt like this in my chest before. Not even during labor. She’s panicking, I have never- never felt this from her before.”

Feyre turned to Rhys, her eyes wild with concern. Eris was quick to interject, his voice echoing through the room. “No, don’t do this. Don’t be communicating where I can’t hear it. This is about my mate, I deserve to hear it.”

“You don’t deserve-” Feyre’s arm on Rhys’s bicep stops him. “Rhys, where is she? Where’s Atlas?”

The High Lord of the Night Court’s chest was heaving with each breath, certain a rib or two was broken. “They went back to Autumn.”

“They haven’t arrived in Autumn.”

Rhys went pale, concern taking over his features. “They must be. They winnowed away ages ago - did she go straight to bed?”

The words fueled his rage once more, his voice on the edge of despair. “She is nowhere in Autumn.”

-

Trudging through the forest, you weren’t certain which way you were headed. You tried to feel for that bond with Eris in your chest, trying to pull it taut to receive some direction but whatever cord it created merely tugged you in over a dozen directions, the strength of each pull ebbing and flowing with your breath. You felt Eris’ concern grow as you stood, looking in all directions.

The trees were too tall for you to see the sun - it would give you some indication of which direction to head. Autumn laid in the southeast of The Middle, but navigating through its woods would still be impossible even with the sun’s guidance.

You cursed your hothead, annoyed you couldn’t just run out of Rhys’s study and go hide in your room until Eris came back. Surely you could have tried to mend things with Rhys, not just going on the defensive?

You spun in a circle, nearly tripping over more roots before deciding to just pick a direction and go. Atlas remained calm in your arms, what little power you have going to soothe him. Your breaths were slow and deliberate, trying to keep yourself calm. It was working enough to soothe Atlas and to keep a level head, and that was all that mattered.

You would need a source of water soon. It felt like you were moving on a downward slope, keeping your eyes peeled for any creeks or streams nearby. Sweat collected at the nape of your neck, sticking to the hair that covered it. It was oppressively muggy, the air feeling heavy with humidity. 

Time was hard to track in the Middle, every moment stretching endlessly as you continued to walk a path that seemed to never change. Each tree looked the same as the last, no distinguishing characteristics to help you track any sort of progress. 

Perhaps you were stuck in an endless loop, circling the same bit of land over and over until you collapsed from exhaustion.

“Running from something?”

A high pitched voice caused you to stop mid stride. A sinister tilt to the question that caused you to secure Atlas to your chest before your feet went flying without turning to look at the source.

-

Eris paced across their floor, a thin layer of fire coating his skin and clothes, a small trail of flames followed his path on the floor. 

“I would prefer if you didn’t leave scorch marks on my floor.” Rhysand’s voice was buzzing in Eris’s ears, much like the annoying pests of Summer.

“And I would prefer my mate to have a better family, preferably one who doesn’t allow her to leave unattended so soon after giving birth.”

Eris was itching to unleash his anger, desperate for some fight to break out to let out a fraction of the rage that had nestled in his gut.

“My sister’s been strong-willed since she was born, anything she gets her mind on she does.” Rhys strode closer to Eris, looking down at the new High Lord. It hadn’t even been two full years since the magic had chosen him. The newfound power that thrummed within him was an adjustment, but he had quickly taken the reins of it. Now he felt like nothing more than a vessel for the well of magic inside him, set to erupt any moment.

“And yet, she’s not foolish enough to believe she could winnow across Prythian unless she felt she had no other option.”

“What are you insinuating, Eris?”

“I’m not insinuating anything, Rhysand. I’m speaking directly. I apologize if my language is too complex for your pigeon brain to understand.” Something in Eris snapped before he pushed Rhysand up against the wall, his head thumping against the wall as flames licked around Rhys’s skin, not burning, but restricting. “My mate felt so unsafe she took our babe and her chances of going anywhere but here.” 

Every other word was enunciated with Eris shoving him into the wall, “and now you better pray to the Mother we find them both unharmed or your mate will rule this court alone.”

Rhys snarled at the threat, a rebuttal dying on his tongue as someone pulled Eris off of him, shoving him into a chair. Eris’ snarl died as he met the eyes of the eldest Archeron, the only person in this court he truly tolerated. 

“Killing Rhysand can wait. Unfortunately, he may be helpful in finding her.” Nesta’s voice was a pleasant surprise for Rhys, probably for the first and last time. He took in a deep breath, the flames gone from his neck, before he straightened his jacket, moving toward the maps Azriel and Cassian had been looking over. The two Illyrians had been having a discussion of their own while Eris and Rhys fought, both too caught up in plotting to pay mind to the High Lords. Cassian’s thick fingers trailed a path from Velaris to where they knew the Forest House was located. 

“Eris would know the second she stepped foot in Autumn, Rhys would know if she were in Night.”

Azriel stood rigid, his wings tucked in tight behind him. A formidable strategist determining the right course of action. “She could be anywhere in Day, Dawn, or Winter.”

“Or in The Middle.” Just the name gave Nesta chills, the phantom feel of the Kelpie around her. She swallowed harshly, the action feeling more restricting than it should.

“Lucien’s in Day, I could fill him and Helion in there while Azriel goes to talk to Thesan. Mor can go to Winter. Rhys, Cassian, Nesta, and Eris can look around the Middle. Elain, you stay here, take care of Nyx. If she comes back, let the twins know and they’ll contact us.” Feyre looked around, wanting to see how everyone felt about the plan. Everyone was on edge, this relief team more likely to implode on itself than succeed. 

This was a tragedy and everyone had a finger they wanted to use to pinpoint the source. 

-

Trees were a blur, hitting the ground in swift footfalls, every breath not big enough. There was no cleared path to take, the brush and bramble catching on ankles. Blood dropped from the nicks and cuts of thorns, but the urgency to run never stopped.

Atlas continued crying, soft wails coming from him as you pulled him closer to your chest, trying to quiet his pain.

There was no way to know where you were going, paths changing as you moved down them, but you continued forward, deciding it was your best option. You knew whoever found you was still following you, their breathing so loud it felt like they were right behind you.

Sudden sharp, shooting pain caused you to fall, your ankle caught on something as you fell forward. Quick thinking had you turn on your side, taking the brunt of the fall, except some thorny vines sliced through the swaddle, cutting Atlas’s arm.

Brows cinched together, the pain from your foot almost unbearable. Eyes were pinched closed, not wanting to see what had caught your foot. Whatever it was was still there - and was crushing your leg too. It took everything not to wail out in pain, matching Atlas’s cries. You breathed in through your nose, lifting up your skirt enough to see the metal bear trap that had clamped shut around your left leg, blood rushing out in spurts.

The sight caused bile to catch in your throat, quickly moving your head to the side to expel it.

Trying to sit up and assess the situation was no longer an option when the hunter appeared, her strong hands wrapping around the trap and tugging your body toward her. A scream ripped from your throat as blood gushed out of the wound, hot pain causing your vision to darken with each tug of the chain. Atlas was wailing, the protective arms of his mother insecure for the first time. His grip loosened on the duck blanket he carried, the yellow fabric turning brown with mud.

-

The Inner Circle and Eris were divided into teams, each taking on their own travels. Once everything was agreed upon, Eris was the first to winnow away, grabbing Nesta by the arm to take with him. She struggled in his grip as the world blurred around them, the smell of the unforgiving forest burning Nesta’s nose. Eris held tight against her as the familiar smell of burnt umber filled his nose, the two reappearing in his study. 

Nesta searched the room, never having set foot in the Autumn Court, much less the Forest House Eris resided in. She looked at the papers scattered across Eris’s desk, eyes quickly scanning for anything of interest. A quick, high whistle startled her, bristling in his grip before a large hound came barreling through the door. A second, longer whistle came before the beautiful, sleek hound stopped before Eris.

He wrapped his hand around the hound’s collar before winnowing the three of them once more. Nesta’s head spun as the ground slipped from beneath her feet once more, the back to back winnowing causing her to stagger once they landed in a forested outcrop.

Eris quickly let go of her, his ears and nose twitching for anything he could pick out. Satisfied the area was secure enough, he gave the command to Clover, telling her to fan out. He was certain she knew Atlas and his mate by name, but nonetheless he provided a discarded shirt to her. She took large inhales, memorizing the scent before she ran off, her nose to the ground. She weaved between trees, dodging above ground roots with practiced ease. 

Eris didn’t wait before taking off in a brisk pace after Clover, boots stomping through the muddied ground, his boot prints replacing paw prints in the soil. Nesta tried to keep up, her form trailing behind Eris as they moved through the landscape. 

The Middle was unlike anywhere else in Prythian. It was what Nesta expected faelands to be when she was a mortal girl. Roots snarled over barely forged paths, an attempt to trip up any travelers. The landscape was hazy, almost dreamlike. There was an idea of what you were looking at, but the longer you looked, the more confusing it became. Hairs stood on end, a perpetual feeling of being watched followed travelers as they moved across paths.

Paths were nonsensical - rivers flowed up the mountain, ending wherever they wished rather than venturing out to the sea. Nesta’s limited experience here before was enough to know she did not care for the creatures that lurked here.

Nesta’s eyes were sharp, looking in every direction, desperate to pinpoint and remove the feeling of being watched. Eris trudged ahead, uncaring of Nesta’s plight behind him. He made no attempt at stealth - whatever they would find out here, Eris wanted the beast to know he was on the move. A bark up ahead quickened Eris’s pace, a catch in his throat at what his furry companion may have found.

The barking continued until Eris reached a break in the trees, finding Clover sat on her haunches. Tears sprang at his eyes at Clover’s discovery, crouching down to investigate further. He knew what it was, even covered in dirt and mud. He had handled the thing just hours prior.

Nesta caught up to the pair, pressing her hand to a tree, trying to catch her breath. Eris was hunched over something while Clover whined softly next to him, sitting perfectly still. His arm reached out, pulling something from the mud. He motioned Nesta over, pulling her water skein from her before pouring some out onto the muddied thing. The clear water ran brown, the dirt clinging to the object before running off it. Eris’s fingers rubbed at the spherical shape to reveal yellow fabric. He poured more water, draining the entire skein, to find a tiny yellow blanket with the face of a duck sewn onto it. 

-

Darkness swam at the edge of your vision, everything feeling so bright as you were dragged through the dirt. Your fingers pressed hard into Atlas’s blanket, a firm grip desperate to keep him as close as possible. His cries were causing pain to swell in your breasts, your body not knowing the difference between his hunger and his concern.

Your body ached, the pain ricocheting through every crevice. You grit your teeth, not wanting to give the female any satisfaction. 

There were rumors of fae who roamed The Middle. They were an interesting subspecies of fae - their movements were said to be jerky and strange, their bodies having adapted to the constant change of their homelands.

There was no known record of how many there were or anything about them. They were urban legend during Amarantha’s reign, thought to lurk the woods to drag anyone who fled her captivity back to the Evil Queen herself.

Rumor turned into a nightmare as she grabbed you by the bear trap, your cry of pain echoing through the trees, certain the blades were going to cut through the bone. A gutteral scream left you as she pulled you up by the ankle, shoving you into what seemed to be the back of the wagon. Somehow you still managed a tight grip on Atlas, his wails blocking out all sound. The wretched creature pushed the two of you up, your ankle catching on something too dark to see as she pushed you further in. It smelled awful, the stench of urine and vomit coating your nostrils.

Her rough, barklike hand let go, the pain subsiding enough to look around. You felt woozy from the blood loss, certain you were going mad when you heard barking somewhere in the distance. There wasn’t much in the back of the wagon - a wooden floor covered in various dark, unidentifiable stains. 

Your thoughts whirled with self-deprecation, this whole situation being preventable if you had just stopped and waited.

Patience was a virtue you certainly had not acquired.

It was getting harder to stay awake, the pain overbearing. Sweat made your clothes cling to you, nearly chafing from the dryness. The last thing you thought of before drifting off was that the barking sounded like home. It sounded like warm pumpkin bread and cold nights spent by the fire.

-

The wet blanket squished between his fingers, water evaporating off the surface as he boiled with anger. The air around him seemed to silence, waiting to know what the High Lord would do next.

“Clover, find.” His command was razor sharp, the smokehound racing off, her muzzle to the ground. Eris ended many of his days with Clover, the hound loose, the need to hunt satiated as she found whatever it was she had been looking for. The thrill of not knowing what the two would find.

It was the worst hunt of his life. The uncertainty of how it would end. Most hunts saw him thirst for blood, content at culling the populations of the prey animals around Autumn.

This hunt was nothing like that.

He waited for his trusted companion to return, not wanting his own scent to interfere. Clover was the most clever dog he had bred, but he wouldn’t leave anything up to chance now.

“Nesta!” The voice shouting for the Valkyrie wasn’t too far away, his deep, loud voice not causing Eris to look away from where Clover had descended to.

Nesta wasn’t surprised Cassian had found the pair - her mate had spent the entirety of her time in the Middle tugging and pulling at the cord connecting them. She could feel his concern through it, the concern deepening each time a sound spooked her. But Nesta kept him at an arm’s length. She knew that cold rage that still lingered inside her at Feyre’s near death.  

She knew exactly how Eris felt both now and about Rhysand in general. They both were members of the ‘resignedly having Rhysand as a brother in law’ club.

Nesta responded by pulling the bond, tugging Cassian in their direction. She could hear branches breaking and curses shouted before the two Illyrians made their way through the trees. They were both covered in dirt and sweat, the dried mud nearly up to their necks. Nesta couldn’t help the small smirk that formed at seeing Rhysand’s appearance so unpolished.

“Nes-” she quickly cut Cassian off, holding a finger up to him before turning back to Eris. He stood still, lingering on the path his hound had taken away from them. Rhysand observed him too, and Nesta was certain some barb laid on his tongue. Before he could, she brought the two up to speed about the blanket in a hushed tone. As she was finishing, a high pitched bark echoed through the wood. Eris took off in a sprint, the three quickly chasing off after him. They ran several miles, barely keeping up with Eris’s pursuit.

Eris met Clover’s barking, the hound circling a wagon, keeping the owner from getting into the front. The hair on the hound’s spine was raised, her teeth bared as she snarled and snapped at the fae. The horses attached to the wagon were startled by the hound, causing their own commotion. The pauses after their whinnying should have been silent, the space between brays a reprieve. Instead it was filled with the sound of a wailing baby. 

Clover’s teeth clacked at the stocky female, sinking into the fabric of her pants and letting go before she was swatted. The hound had repeated this over and over again, not having received a command to go in for the kill. This hadn’t kept the hound from drawing blood as she nipped, her own territorial act over his master’s family. Blood was dripping from the female’s leg, thick, green liquid falling in puddles on the ground. 

The other three fae weren’t far behind Eris, quickly approaching the scene not a moment after him. Cassian moved toward the wagon while the others approached the female Clover was on the verge of mauling. 

Rhysand flicked his wrist, the reins restraining the horses disappearing, the pair running off. Their hoofbeats got quieter as the fae were surrounded on all sides. She looked between the four sets of eyes, certain the dog was her best bet. The most unlikely of allies banded together as a pack offering no escape.

Cassian climbed into the wagon, his weight shaking the cart. The bounty hunter flicked her forked tongue out, her hand reaching for something on her belt. A shadow lashed out, wrapping around her forearm, causing her to let go of her belt. She shrieked in pain as the shadow twisted her arm behind her back.

The clearing was dark, the only sound came from the bounty hunter’s mouth, cries of pain swallowed them as arm cracked and bent in every direction. The wind caught beneath the bounty hunter’s legs, forcing her to her knees.

“Cassian?” It was perhaps the only time Eris had referred to the general by name. His tone was stern, a voice he had used for centuries as a general himself. But something desperate creeped at the edge of his voice, a reality he didn’t want to consider.

The one where he was too late. That this was the wrong wagon. That his mate was somewhere else and this was a waste of time.

Cassian’s silence forced Eris to move, his feet jumping off the ground without him telling them to. He lunged forward, catching the fae offguard as he landed on her. 

Eris laid on top of the bounty hunter, her long sharp nails scratching at him. One of her arms was still behind her, but she was determined. He didn’t register the fabric she ripped through, uncaring at the scratches on his arms. 

“Cassian, are they alive?” His question was accented with the sharp thud her head made as it hit the ground. She was snarling up at him, her lifeless eyes dark as she peered up at the High Lord.

“Have enough coin for the pair?” 

Eris’ fangs grew longer, the High Lord’s second form desperate to come out. His fingers quickly changed to talons, the nails biting through the fae’s skin, causing her to cry out. She began thrashing once more, Eris’ weight pinning her down. He was snarling, practically spitting as he couldn’t contain the rage boiling inside of him. He heard shuffling behind him, Nesta or Rhysand moving to help Cassian.

“They’re breathing!” He wasn’t sure who yelled it, the sounds blurring together. It sounded like Cassian, but all his mind could make out was they were alive. Alive, alive, alive. It was enough to tide him over for now.

“Take them to the Forest House, my healers are on standby.” He didn’t know if they responded, if they even looked his way, if they tried to argue. That thrumming need inside of him to protect his mate felt satiated enough knowing Nesta or Cassian was with her, that they were en route to Autumn. He wanted to be there, wanted to hold the loves of his life as they went back home. He was desperate to know how they were, to listen to the beating of their hearts.

His gaze narrowed back on the creature beneath him, her brown skin turning red beneath him. His heart was miles away, but it would eat him alive to see a fae with such audacity not receive their comeuppance. 

“And what was the price on her head? How much was she worth to you?” His tone was ice, his question not a rhetorical one. He wanted to know how much this lowlife wanted for the two most precious things in his life. His wonderful mate, his equal in every way. Atlas, his darling boy. To consider them nothing more than traded goods made his stomach churn.

The bounty hunter couldn’t answer, her throat drying and desperate for water with every breath. The air was unbearable hot, but she managed to whisper out, “five thousand gold marks.” Once the words escaped her lips, the hard metal of coins pelted her face. She winced from the pain. Eris ignored the resounding crack in the air, metal meeting bone.

“Here, take it all.”

He poured more coins onto her, winnowing them from somewhere. He could barely think straight, every fiber of his being thrumming with revenge and anger. 

A life for a life, an eye for an eye.

But really, what is the life of a trafficker? 

Every breath was difficult, her lungs ached with heat. Fire caught around the pair, the flames staying low to the ground. Eris still sat atop her, unmoved by the flames circling their bodies, slowly making their way closer to the tree like fae.

“Take them back.” Eris’s command was directed to the group behind him, if they were still even there. He had no idea - his world had become so small. It was just him and this fae now. “Take them back to Autumn. Now.”

Her tongue dissolved to ash in her mouth, unable to speak. The High Lord grabbed more coins, shoving them into her mouth. The gold coins began losing form in her mouth, a river of melted gold pouring down her throat. It burned as it moved through her body, all of her organs alight with heat and fire.

Eris watched as her eyes dried out, as she tried to scream but was unable to. He watched as she thrashed beneath him, begging for mercy as if he were a kind and just god. Eris didn’t believe in the old gods, but if he did, he knew they would approve. He watched for several moments before her body slowly began turning to ash, carried away in the wind.

He didn’t linger long after the remnants of her floated away, not even looking back before winnowing back to Autumn, rematerializing to find the Forest House in chaos. Servants moved quickly through the halls, hurried footsteps as they carried linens and rags toward the team of healers he could hear yelling down the hallway.

“Call off your guards.” The first words to greet him were from his brother in law. It was a voice he could never get used to, the smoothness grating.

Eris’s mate and Rhysand looked strikingly similar - same violet eyes, same feline-like face. But Rhysand didn’t look right in the Forest House. He didn’t carry with him the warmth that made his mate look so at home here, as if the entire court had been made in preparation for her. 

Rhysand seemed so out of place in his sister’s home. The once close siblings’ stark differences could not be ignored.

Eris waved his hand noncommittally, the guards lowering their swords from Cassian’s and Rhysand’s necks. 

“They let me bring her in before threatening me, at least.” Cassian’s joke doesn’t land, the silence bouncing through the hall before Eris moved forward, his path straight to his bedchambers. It was a guess - the correct one - as to where they’d put you to look over you. He stormed into the room, a fierce blaze on the wind as he moved inside. You had been placed on the bed, the healers circling you tending to every inch of you. 

The bond shook with anger, that golden string practically vibrating with urgency at the mangled mess that had been your ankle. 

Nesta was standing off to the side, holding Atlas as he cried. 

“I didn’t want to leave her alone. I haven’t taken my eyes off her this whole time.”

It felt like the cord around his heart had divided into two - one path to the bed, his bloodied mate, the other to Nesta and the tiny bundle that laid in her arms.

He knew which you’d prefer for him to go to. You had an army of healers around you as you laid unconscious, but all Atlas had was Nesta.

“Give him to me.” The tone of the High Lord. Nesta slipped the small babe into Eris’s arms, “they looked him over. He has a scratch on his arm, but otherwise fine.”

The worst feeling his son had experienced up until now had been the harshness of birth. The sensory overload of the world - how loud and bright it was after being evicted from his dark and cozy home. He had not known physical pain, had never been exposed to it. Every fae held him with such tenderness, it was impossible for Eris to rectify that his son, barely a month old, knew the atrocities of fae.

“Someone will check my son every half hour, ensuring he is in good health.” None of the healers answered, but Eris had known them long enough to know they heard him. He took a breath, holding the bundle tight to his chest. Atlas’s cries slowed, softening as he felt the familiar comforts of home.

Amidst all the chaos of the room, it seemed almost like they were alone. Eris’s ears twitched, listening intently to his son’s breathing.

A commotion was heard through the door, but Eris ignored it, opting to let himself feel the comfort of his son.

Shouting could now be heard, breaking the stillness he had artificially created. 

Eris wretched open the door, searching for the source of the yelling, only to find Cassian and Rhysand fighting with the guards at the door.

His jaw tightened, his mate’s family a permanent fixture beneath his skin.

“What are you doing?” Everyone stilled at his words, the hall clearing of commotion.

“Never mind. I do not care. You have done enough. Her family,” Eris nodded towards Nesta and Cassian, “are allowed to stay. You,” he pokes a finger into Rhys’s chest, the tip singeing his shirt, making the black shirt slowly turn ashen, “are not welcome here until she says so.”

The two males continued staring each other down. Eris didn’t blink as he addressed the crowd, “if any of your thoughts align with your High Lord’s words from earlier, I suggest you leave now before I have to disgrace myself with the sight of you once more. Otherwise we have accommodations you may stay in.”

The redhead went back inside to his mate, shutting the door on Rhysand. Eris slumped back in the chair he had pulled up next to the bed, uncertain what to do with himself. Small flames erupted from the hand not holding Atlas as he flexed his fingers, trying and failing to burn off some of his anger. It was all consuming - the death of the fae responsible doing little to quench the adrenaline pumping through him. 

Eris couldn’t stop the biting words coming from him, couldn’t stop the waves of anger coming off of him as the healers worked around him. Your hand stayed still in his, his grip firm as he let loose words he didn’t truly mean.

-

“Why are you out here?”

“I want to be in there, but that Night Court healer kicked me out.” The anger had lessened the longer Eris had sat in the hallway, his mind clear of the chaos anger brings to the forefront. 

Lucien raised an eyebrow, “you take commands from old bitties now?”

“I do when they tell me to come back when I won’t set the curtains on fire.” Lucien looked down at his eldest brother. A fixture in his life, someone so tall in his memories, now looking so inconceivably small as he sat on the floor. He was the High Lord of the Autumn Court, but at this moment he was nothing more than a concerned mate. “And now I feel no better than a kicked hound.”

“You’ve never been one to let being kicked keep you down.”

“I wasn’t the one who got kicked.” Eris’s words were cracked as they came out, finally verbalizing the guilt that had been gnawing at him for hours by this point. It wasn’t very freeing, but it felt surprisingly good to share the feeling with Lucien.

“I wasn’t there-” Lucien was quick to cut him off. The love of your life in danger indirectly because of you was one few understood. “And if you were, this would never have happened.”

Eris stayed quiet, a sight so unfamiliar to Lucien. He looked to the door, surprised at Eris’s lack of desire to have the last word.

“Where is Atlas?” 

“The Archerons are watching over him. Your mate arrived just before I was removed from my own bedchambers.” Lucien was certain it wouldn’t take much to procur that story from Elain. His smile was hard to contain imagining the healers tossing him out.

“Do you trust them?”

“They are three rooms down in a windowless, winnowless room.”

“So you trust the viper?” The fact Eris allowed them to take Atlas away from him was proof enough for Eris’s feelings about the pair. He didn’t want to mention how he wasn’t even trusted alone with Atlas yet.

“I suppose I do.”

A pregnant pause settled between the two, their gazes coming together to look at the door. They sat in silence for a while, neither looking from the door, their minds stuck on the possibilities that laid behind it. Eris tugged at the bond in his chest, desperate to feel his mate on the other side of it. He kept his face neutral at the silence that followed.

“It will likely be a while before she wakes.” A hard truth even harder to verbalize.

“I did not come here for her.”

Lucien’s voice came out strained and soft, so unlike his usual confidence. It betrayed his worries - his concern for not only his friend and new sister, but for the brother next to him. Eris was cruel, playing the part Beron had wanted for so long it was difficult for him to untangle every memory for the truth behind it. 

Lucien knew Jesminda wasn’t his mate, but the grief that nearly consumed him whole was real. He hated Eris for playing the part of dutiful son, but he had played the part of rebellious son. Were the roles they played assigned or did they have some choice in them? The rebellious son returned home to the legacy the prodigal son had dismantled.

“I mean, I did come for her. I want her to be alright.” Lucien leaned against the wall before sliding down it, sitting next to Eris, facing the door his brother’s mate lay behind. 

His unsaid words hung in the air and, shocking both of them, Eris reached out a hand, desperate for some familiar touch. Lucien took it with little hesitation, squeezing softly. Gods, he couldn’t remember the last time he just sat in his brother’s company like this or the last time he had touched Eris.

Despite the circumstances, it felt easy.

The two sat in silence for a while, the air heavy and stifling with uncertainty. 

“Lucien, I..”

Eris trailed off, not sure if the language existed to convey how much fear lingered in his chest. He felt your pain bouncing inside of him like a dull ache, but he couldn’t feel you any longer. He couldn’t take a moment to linger in the part of his chest that was normally bursting with everything you. He didn’t hear any music, the silence almost deafening. Lucien squeezed his hand again, “I know.”

“No you don’t.”

Lucien shrugged, his long hair swishing with the movement. “I don’t know.” He brushed some of his hair off his shoulder, “but I know you look like shit.”

Eris didn’t need to look down at himself to know that his brother was right - he hadn’t bathed since they all went off looking for you, certain there was debris and blood all over his clothes and hair. The sweat soaked shirt clung to his chest, his skin itchy from the contact. The larger of the two made a big show of sniffing the air, crinkling his nose in disgust. “Smell like it, too. But that’s nothing new.”

Eris growled, unable to ignore his brother’s taunts. “At  least I am not a smartass.”

“Ah,” Lucien tutted, a smug look on his face, “now we both know that is a lie. Autumn’s High Lord, starting your new tenure off on mistruths. What a look.”

Lucien’s feline smirk lessened a bit as he looked at his brother with something bordering on fondness. “I will take up the hallway guard if you go bathe. Really, you want your mate to smell you like this? If she doesn’t leave after that, I will be certain you’ve poisoned her mind somehow.”

“I am certain that would be the worst of my crimes.”

“I would believe so, forcing the mother of my babe to believe she was in love with you.”

Eris hissed in response, his knees popping as he stood up. Lucien ignored his brother, his barbs continuing.

“To think the mother of my child could be in love with an old, decrepit thing like you. Witchcraft, I say.”

“You’re not going to be speaking for long if you keep this up.”

“He does look rather like me, don’t you think?” Lucien grinned, something big and wolfish. The look only a little brother could have at getting beneath his brother’s skin.

“And why is your son so pale?”

Lucien shrugged, unbothered by Eris’s irritation. “Ran out of pigment. Who am I to question the Mother?”

“Ran out of my pigment my ass,” Eris muttered, finally moving down the hall to some bathing chambers.

“Do all High Lords speak with such vulgarity or just you?” 

Eris responded by slamming the door, blocking out Lucien’s laughter. He didn’t linger long in the bath, the extra two hundred feet of distance felt like too much space between him and his family. He didn’t want to admit it, but Lucien was right - having the grime removed from his skin made him feel more capable of handling things. Fresh clothes made him feel more like himself.

His brother was still in the hallway when he returned, his head shaking slightly when he saw Eris walking in his direction. The healer must still be tending to you. He stopped at the door next to yours, turning the knob before walking in. The two older Archerons were in the room, his brother’s mate carrying Atlas in her arms. Eris’s son appeared to be in good health - so far each check proved the same, and despite the physician's groaning, he continued them. Elain seemed happy to carry Atlas around, her soft voice explaining to him the recent travels she and Lucien had gone on. 

“Tulips of every color covered the fields. I’m sure one day Lucien and I can take you to see them.” Her vivid descriptions of the continent wasted on the babe’s ears. Nesta’s gray eyes looked toward the door, watching as Eris entered. 

“Elain, the High Lord’s going to have you killed for speaking of kidnapping his son.” He couldn’t help the slight tilt to his mouth, some deep part of him appreciating Nesta’s attempt at normalcy.

“Nonsense, Nesta. If I had Elain killed, Lucien would mope about the house for the rest of his life.” His hands reached out, gently taking Atlas from Elain’s hold. “You keep him entertained for me. I owe you a great debt for it.”

The middle Archeron never knew how to respond to Eris, having only truly interacted with him a handful of times up to this point. She swallowed, thinking of all the stories Lucien had told her about his eldest brother and how language was his preferred method of battle.

“Perhaps you could entertain him with the dog toys?”

Eris tilted his head, his thumb stroking down his son’s back as he bit back a laugh. He knew any Cauldron fated mate of Lucien’s and sister to Nesta was surely somebody of interest to him, but Elain had yet to show anything Eris found to be interesting - until now.

“Did you just make a joke?”

“Yes.”

Eris nodded, wondering if he had underestimated his brother’s mate. The weight of the day had exhausted him, his bones begging for respite. Now that Atlas was in his arms once more, the tiny bundle so warm, his mind drifted to his bed where his mate currently laid. Your fate was still questionable - the healers were certain a full recovery was the most likely outcome, but when had the most likely outcome ever happened with Eris? Had he forged a life for himself only for it to be ripped away from him - the mother wanting him to know what happiness could be so he could feel its absence?

The air held a hint of awkwardness as they all stared at each other, Eris doing nothing to improve the warmth of the room. The two sisters filed out quickly, their voices directed toward Lucien as they left. The click of the door behind them was a beautiful symphony to Eris’s ears. To be alone with his son at last. It had only been twelve hours, but it was more like weeks had passed since he had seen Atlas’s small face, kissing his forehead goodbye. Nothing had felt off - no sense of anxiety overcame him, no fear for his family. Just annoyance and sadness at being away from them. 

Eris gently cradled Atlas’s head as he made his way up the mattress, propping himself up against the headboard, back cushioned by pillows. His son had been restless in his arms when he took him from Elain, his little arms and legs trying to disturb the perfectly swaddled blanket around him. 

The room had no windows and technically connected to his private chambers. When he was a boy, he had a full time nursemaid stay in here. Once he outgrew her, the space became his own private sanctuary. Many nights were spent hidden in this room, no concept of the passage of time as he poured over books, back curved in desperation to stay awake so he could finish it.

The shelves still lined the walls, but he had some of the furniture removed should his mate eventually want her own chambers. 

His muscles ached less the longer he stayed still, and he softly piled up pillows on each side of him. Atlas was stirring in his arms, tiny coos that were endearingly pathetic. He broached a long finger close to Atlas, tiny hands wrapping around it as he settled back down. If he could, he’d strip his shirt to allow his son to rest on his skin, but thought better of it. The jostling would wake him for good, and he’d be doubly upset to know he was on someone’s chest who wasn’t his mother.

The sound of deep breaths was all that could be heard in the room as Eris used his magic to put out the lit candles littering every surface. The darkness of the shadows made his eyes heavier, but he fought to stay awake, not wanting to let his guard down.

“My beautiful son.” Hushed words filled the room, the warmth of his voice almost visible in the darkness. Atlas didn’t acknowledge the words, content in his slumber and being with his father. His body felt warm in Eris’s arms, Vanserra babies always running hot. 

“I will always find you.” Outside the moon rose high in the air, the cold bringing a slight frost to Autumn. The midnight hour was one Eris made most of his best kept promises, all relating to the mate from the Night Court he found centuries ago. A tradition he unknowingly passed on to doing with his son. He was so pale, cheeks flaming pink. 

Atlas didn’t know his father was High Lord or general of Autumn’s armies for centuries. He had yet to experience the parts of himself that Eris wanted to keep hidden. Eris’s eyes closed slowly, lulled by his son’s breathing, content to know that for now, his son only knew him as a father.

-

Eris startled awake, something prodding at his arm. A groan escaped his lips, his brother’s scent filling his nose enough to rouse him from slumber. He must have slept off the adrenaline, his heart rate a more regular rhythm.

“She’s asking for you.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Eris scolded before he shot up, nearly jumping off the bed.

Lucien rolled his eyes, Eris’s annoyance growing further at the action. “You had been awake for days, Eris. You needed the rest. Don’t they say to sleep when the baby sleeps?”

Eris ignored his brother as he remembered his last moments before he fell asleep.

“Where’s Atlas?” 

“Cassian has him.” Eris shot his brother a glare.

“That’s not funny.” Lucien’s hand went up in defense. “Atlas is asleep on Cassian, and Elain and Feyre are with him if he wants any help.” 

“When did you move him?”

Lucien shrugged. “An hour ago, maybe? You didn’t want to let go of him.”

Lucien’s words were nonchalant, an air of not knowing to them. Why would Eris ever let his son out of his arms again? He had already been exposed to the horrors that lay outside his father’s arms - he wouldn’t let it happen again. He left Lucien in the room, the hallway much quieter now. So much had happened in the past few days, and yet the halls of the Forest House were unchanged. 

Eris stood outside the door, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. Heat danced at his fingertips, a small attempt at having any control over the situation. 

Big, violet eyes looked back at him as he opened the door, something settling in his soul. His mate had a plethora of pillows behind her, each one working to prop her up to be sitting. Long black hair flowed around her, lacking its usual shine. The dark hair highlighted just how pale she looked, but life was slowly returning to her face. A blanket covered her lower half - for the best, perhaps. The tight lid he was holding on his rage was sure to give if he were to see her injuries.

“Hi, Er.” Your voice cracked with trepidation. 

“How is the pain?” You looked down at your bandaged ankle, not moving it to check if the pain was still there. The wound only stopped pulsing with pain recently. Though you had been mostly unconscious, flashes of light and intense pain lingered in your memory.

He continued standing in front of the closed door, keeping his back to it. His eyes were focused on your face, watching every slight movement.

“It’s not so bad with the tonics Madja provided. She said the trap got to the bone of my ankle, so I should limit putting weight on it for a week.”

Eris nodded, the healer telling him much of the same. He had been trying to work through solutions to keeping his stubborn wife bedbound, not quite above shackling her to prevent further injury. A bassinette already sat next to their bed - maybe he could have it moved to his side so he could pick Atlas up and bring him to her. 

Eris nodded, staying uncharacteristically quiet. His feelings were dulled in your chest, muffled by a blanket of privacy neither of you used before.

“Say it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He continued staying by the door, his tone growing slightly sharper. He was being petty and spiteful and you were having none of it.

“Tell me how you feel. You have never hidden your anger from me.”

“That is because I have never felt such anger at you.” The room was cloaked with Eris’ words, not quite stifling the roar of the fire.  “I cannot lose you. Either of you.”

His words were soft, nearly a whisper, but the crackle of the fireplace gave hint to how deep the anger ran.

“I know.”

He kept speaking, not acknowledging your words.“You are far too precious to me. Please, don’t ever risk yourself to escape Rhysand.” His words surprised you, a new wave of guilt overcoming you. Your actions had been done out of anger, winnowing when you knew well enough you shouldn’t. 

Everything could have ended so differently. And for what? To get back at your brother?

“Look at me.”

Eris had moved closer to the bed, as if his confession were a bridge that led him to you. His fingers moved slowly, gripping your chin. “There were a hundred better options, including asking the other bats to fly you home. Do not be so foolish with your life. With Atlas.”

Home. How that word had changed over the centuries. It was the cabin in Illyria, your mother and brother and sister inside, occasionally housing Cassian and Azriel. It was being four years old and scraping your knee and Rhys doing everything to dry your tears and make you laugh. It was flying with Cassian, determined to finally beat him in a race, chastisement over how knotted and wind whipped your hair had become.

And then it was Eris. Late night rendezvous turning into a permanent fixture. It was eating meals at the large, expansive table with two chairs right next to each other. Hounds lazing about the house, one practically laid out in every room in the massive dog beds you had insisted on. Warm colors making everything so vibrant.

And now it was Atlas. Two chairs soon becoming three. Two toothbrushes that would become three. A bassinet beside the bed. Teaching him everything he needed to know, his own neck unable to support the weight of his head. 

Tears clouded your eyes at wholly dependent upon you he was and how you wholly failed him today.

“I was a fool. I- I could have gotten Atlas killed or taken. I am- I will never allow my anger to cloud my judgment when it comes to Atlas.”

“Or you.” It felt like a gentle caress through your chest, so many unspoken words in those two.

“Or myself.”

The words felt like a truce, like you had both arrived to some understanding. To further prove it, you gently patted the bed next to you, eager to feel more of your mate’s warmth. He climbed on the bed, sliding in next to you. 

It was his preferred side to sleep - the left side, facing the door. It allowed him to come and go more easily without waking you, to keep himself between what laid in the world outside the confines of your marital bed.

Anger bubbled back up in your gut, remembering the bounty hunter’s wretched face, the immense delight she had found in your agony.

“Is she?” 

“Dead? Yes.”

The confirmation did little to ease the panic inside. She had been so close to hurting Atlas, so close to selling him away. It was an anger you were certain you would carry until you died.

“My only regret is I didn’t do it myself.”

“Rest assured, my mate. I took care of it.”

You leaned into his side, your head resting in the crook of his neck. He laid above the blankets, his feet crossed at the ankle. He looked so prim and proper, it delighted you a bit.

“And Atlas?” His arm wrapped around you, his hand stroking your cheek lazily.

“He is safe with Lucien as we speak.”

“I don’t think anything’s safe with Lucien.”

His grip on your head was soft but firm, keeping you close to him. His thumb started moving on its own, his body so content to be next to yours once more.

“I thought-“

“I know.” And you had known. His panic was all you had felt before being rescued. It would have been easy to drown in it if it weren’t for the instinct to protect Atlas.

“But we are okay.”

But for how long?

“There’s a note on the side table.”

Eris had to change the subject, unwilling and unwanting to face his emotions head on. Your eyes moved to find Rhysand’s delicate penmanship on the fold of the paper, the letters of your name in grand, swooping movements of the pen.

“Can I see it?”

You could feasibly reach it, but your arms felt so heavy. Your body was still so tired, movement a burden to worn out muscles. He reached over you, careful not to lay his weight on you, keeping the paper folded as he handed it to you.

“You’re not going to peek at it?”

“It is your correspondence.”

You rubbed the paper through your fingers, not certain if you were ready to know its contents. You wanted to read this alone, not have Eris coloring your feelings.

“Can you bring Atlas in here? Madja said I can hold him.”

Eris nodded, slowly untangling himself before leaving. The click of the door prompted you to open the note, some small part of you wanting this to be between siblings. Hope had bloomed at the sight of the note - a ceasefire, maybe. Or maybe it would contain the tenderness Rhysand had so adamantly kept locked away the past few years.

Eris had been adamant his relationship with Lucien was his to navigate. He wanted Lucien to feel Eris deserved his company, not coming around because Lucien likes Eris’s mate.

And so this letter was yours. Rhysand was your brother. Any tenderness or ire or passive aggression from him is yours to decide what to do with.

-

The letter sat next to you, your mind lost in thought when Eris returned with the small bundle in his arms. Your chest lightened at the sight, the tight grip of anxiety around your heart lessening with every step Eris moved forward until your son was tucked back into your arms.

“And he’s okay?”

“Yes, he’s been looked over at least a dozen times by now. His worst injury is a scrape on his arm that has already healed.” 

You gazed down at the impossibly tiny thing in your arms, taking in the features of his smooth, pale face. He was beautiful and he was yours.

“I am sure the extent of his injuries is in no small part due to your quick thinking.”

“Eris-“

“You are littered in cuts and scrapes, bruises everywhere. Do not think I can’t be both angry and proud of you at once.”

You preened a bit at the compliment, your mate’s pride in you always making your heart swell. “And if I did risk injury to myself for him?”

“Then you’d be the female the Mother mated me to, the one I had sworn myself to so long ago.”

It was quiet, two pairs of eyes looking down at the young boy between them. He was so small, so unaware of the danger that had surrounded him for several hours. To him the afternoon was different and scary in a new way: utter exhaustion had left her unable to stop her emotions from spreading and he felt his mother’s fear bubble in his belly. 

“I haven’t seen such injuries on you in so long.” Centuries ago, the blonde male had dropped off the Night Court princess in Autumn, her beautiful wings haphazardly cut off. The outpour of blood seemed endless, Eris not knowing how you still had any left. He could still smell the blood and vomit, the scent had stuck to his walls for years to come. 

“It would be the greatest disservice for Atlas to not know his mother.” Eris couldn’t say more, couldn’t verbalize the fear that was easing off his chest. It would gut him to not have anyone to share Atlas growing up with. He would go on without you for Atlas, but he wouldn’t be the same. How much pain can one bare before it consumes you whole? 

The room was silent, the small family huddled together, enjoying their reunion. Warmth radiated around the room as two sets of eyes watched Atlas smile.

-

A soft knock at the door woke you from the sleep you had dozed off into. You were alone - Eris’s scent still lingered, likely having left not even ten minutes ago. You took a deep breath, feeling around in your chest for him. All that was found at the rope that tethered you to him was a sense of calm and pride. He was definitely with Atlas, hopefully eating a meal as he cradled his son to his chest. 

“Come in.” 

The door opened, your brother’s head popping in through the door. Rhysand looked so out of place here in Autumn. His violet eyes screamed ‘wrong’ as he stood out from the background. You had the same eyes as him, but they seemed wrong here.

He kept his head low as he walked in, varying degrees of guilt and shame pouring off of him. The magic inside of you was slow to return, but Rhysand’s emotions wouldn’t be a mystery without them.

“Hello.”

“How cordial of you.”

“Well, when in Autumn.” He shifted on his feet, taking your silence for confusion. “Historically Autumn is a much more proper court than Night.”

An awkward tang filled your mouth with each word. “I am aware.” 

The two of you looked at each other, the silence in the room settling over the siblings. So far from their younger selves, so many atrocities laid between them. An observer would think they were strangers from the odd tension in the room.

Speaking was the hardest either had done.

“I am sorry.” His words were slow and deliberate, emphasizing each syllable to truly show he meant it. His shoulders hunched slightly, Cassian’s words from an earlier conversation swirling through his head.

We’d expect that kind of treatment from your father.

“When was the last time you said that to me?” Rhys was never good at apologies - every one had been followed up with “but-“. It would have been more sincere for him to apologize for his actions hurting your feelings.

“Far too long.” 

Silence. You waited, wanting more from him. You were tired of fighting with him, a constant battle for choices already made, each party wanting to be the victor. It was exhausting and with a new babe, something had to give.

“Rhys, this is my life, whether you like it or not. I can’t- I’m not playing games with you anymore. I don’t care if you like Eris or not, but you have to believe I can make my own decisions. You have to trust me.” Your earlier words seemed to finally get through to your brother, his shoulders slumping in some form of concession. “I can’t keep doing this merry go round of things seeming to be better just to blow up again.”

“I do trust you.”

“Do you?” The question flew from your mouth without thinking. “I kept this a secret for a century, Rhys, because you reacted exactly how I expected you to. You don’t - you used to trust me, let me make my own choices, but since that night you haven’t.”

You were growing wearisome from this argument, the fight draining you of what little energy was left. You pointed to the water cup on the nightstand, Rhys picking it up and giving it to you. He hovered next to you, staying at your bedside.

“I am sorry that I made you feel like I don’t trust you.” The water helped ease the slight headache that was building, and gave you something to do while you took a moment to think on Rhysand’s words.

“Do you?”

“Of course I do.” His voice broke as he spoke, a desperation lacing his words. “But how can I trust anyone else to care for you? How could I live with myself if I let you be with him only for him to hurt you?”

“He’s a good male, Rhys.”

“I want you safe. I want what’s best for you.”

“And he is. If I told you Feyre was no good for you, what would you do?” He quickly looked away, proving you right. His hand tugged at his hair, an action he hardly ever did.

“I was scared. When Eris came in and you were missing, I was scared. Cassian had to talk me down from blowing up the entirety of the Middle.”

The truth finally came from him. Every discussion, every argument, all Rhys would talk about was his anger, the betrayal. He kept his emotions so tight to his chest, they were suffocating him. You kept quiet, letting him continue.

“I was scared that it finally was happening. That another court was finally going to finish what Spring had started. I thought Eris had done this somehow, wanting us to discover his deeds. Wanting to basque in the glory of getting the upper hand over me.” He breathed in deeply through his nose, his hands shaking as he brought them to his face. Unshed tears lined his violet eyes, the depths of sadness keeping your gaze. “But it was me who led you to danger. It was me who couldn't keep you safe.”

A sob tore through him, the sound of the last wall between the two of you collapsing. You moved over on the bed, allowing space for Rhys before patting the bed. He stood before sitting on the edge of the bed, toeing off his shoes, and laying next to you. You leaned your head on his shoulder as he draped his arms around you, clinging tight. 

He clung to you as he sobbed into your shoulder, your own tears falling on top of his head. How had things become so twisted? How had your relationship crumpled this much? 

The High Lord’s embrace allowed the emotions of the day to crash into you, clutching his shirt tight in your fingers. The soft silk was such a contrast to the pain in your chest. 

Rhysand was your brother,  the only person alive who loved you before you were born. He didn’t have to know you to love you.

Rhys had always told you he loved you before you were born, something you had never grasped until Atlas. Seeing something so small and tiny and knowing you would go to the ends of the planet to help them. 

“You didn’t get to meet Atlas.”

He stayed in your arms, a less than dignified sniffle coming from him. When was the last time you had seen Rhysand cry? Those nights he would find you in Feyre’s absence when she was in Spring, letting you soothe him to sleep? Or was it when Nyx was born and Feyre nearly died? 

“Do I even deserve to at this point?”

The two of you were the sole survivors of a noble family. An entire family gone in one night. You leaned further into him, nose pressed against his bicep. He was warm, the citrusy scent coming off him made so many memories flash through your mind: learning to fly, lounging in his study as he worked, intense chess matches that left everyone mad. Centuries of baggage laid in the space between the two of you.

The second part of his scent was the soft undertone of sea salt that always reminded you of home. Your mother smelled like sea salt and caramel, a scent that always made your mouth water for sweets and feel safe. She was gone, had been for so long your memories of her were blurry from use, but so much of her lay in the male next to you.

There was no way back to her or the rest of your family, gone for centuries now, memories so replayed they were memories of memories by now. But you still thought of them often. You were thinking of your mother when you spoke once more, thinking of the excitement Rhys had to finally have a little sister.

“Yes, you do.”

Author’s note: AHHHHHHH wasn’t that great ❤️

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

Gingerfucker taglist: @bookwormysblog

Thanks for reading ❣️

[artethyst]

Sprinkles of Luck & Doubt

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Do you think hockey!Azriel would sneak into the girls locker room/showers just to see figure skating reader? 👀

Warnings: Light sexual themes, angst

Word Count: 1752

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown Shots & Spins

_________________________________________

“What the—”

Your shriek is abruptly cut off when a palm lies flat across your mouth. Your heart hammers into your chest as you react, hands clamping down on the thick forearm that feels nothing like a woman’s, which is concerning considering you’re standing in the middle of the shower, soaking wet, in the women’s locker room.

“Easy, sweetheart,” a voice you know all too well purrs in your ear. You go lax against the body behind you, shutting your eyes and trying to regain some semblance of a normal heart rate when his hand slips away from your mouth. He plants it on your hip, and his touch alone only sets your heart into a stampede again.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper, mustering up the strength to scold Azriel when you turn to face him instead of sidling right up into his side and giving into every ounce of pleasure that him sneaking into the women’s showers with you brings.

“I needed to say goodbye to you before we leave for Briarwood,” he answers, and the way that he said he needs to say goodbye is not lost on you. It makes your stomach twist and your heart beat happily in your chest, your cunt perking up at the words.

“And that couldn’t have waited until I got out of the shower?”

His hazel eyes peruse your body in a slow trail, drinking you in like you’re his prey. His pupils dilate with arousal, and Azriel shifts on his feet as his cock begins to fill. If he doesn’t stop looking, he’s going to have the worst case of blue balls on the bus, and his teammates might not pick up on why he’s being so stiff since he’s normally a silent, brooding guy before big games, but he knows that Cassian and Rhys will clock him the second he steps foot onto the bus.

“Couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see you in my favorite outfit of yours,” he smirks, trailing the tips of his fingers up your sides. You shiver, near violently, clenching your thighs together when his thumbs brush over your nipples.

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensations zipping up your spine. You lean into Azriel, fingers fisting into his black t-shirt, uncaring that you’re getting his clothes all wet. He doesn’t care either, especially when he bends down into the onslaught of water to capture your lips against his own.

“You’re all wet,” you protest when you finally part, blushing red hot when he winks at you.

“Can’t be as wet as you, sweetheart,” Azriel jokes, but his cock is rock fucking hard. This was a terrible idea, in theory, to sneak into the women’s locker room and even more so to slip into the shower with you when he has only minutes before the bus leaves. But he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t not see you one more time before the tournament this weekend. He needed a kiss from his good luck charm. Needs much more than that, if he’s being honest with himself, but he doesn’t have the time.

“Ha ha,” you laugh drily, flicking water at him. “Just remember that while I’m here under the warm water with it’s perfect pressure,” you tease, fluttering your lashes at him when his eyes grow dark. To frustrate Azriel further, you slide your hands down your body, following the water cascading across your skin, right between your thighs. Azriel follows the movement with a wild look in his eyes that makes you want to back away, make you want him to chase you, touch you until you can’t stand, can’t see straight. The muscles of your legs twitch in agreement. “And you’re sitting on the bus with your hands in your lap, wishing you were between my legs instead of in your hand.”

Azriel growls softly and it goes straight to your core. It takes all your effort to turn away from him and plant yourself fully under the spray, slicking your hair back and shimmying your hips for affect.

“You are so getting punished when I get back, sweetheart.”

“What?” You whirl around, completely unprepared for him to be only inches away. You gasp and lose your footing, but Azriel’s already wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you into his body. His cock strains against his pants, and the jeans he’s wearing only increase the sensations of his body against yours, rubbing across your sensitive, flushed skin. “You’re the one that started this mess, I should be punishing you!”

His hazel eyes glow at the prospect, a challenge. He dips his chin, his words fanning across your lips as he speaks. “Do you want to punish me, sweetheart?”

No, you want to drop to the tiles and suck him down your throat, no matter how much your knee might protest. You want to see his cock, touch it, taste it, feel it, but you know he won’t let you. Not right now.

It’s going to be a long and lonely weekend without Azriel here. And now that you’ve seen his cock, had the immense pleasure of having it inside of you, you know that the sad vibrator in your bedside table back at the dorms will in no way compare to the man with his arms wrapped around you.

On the other hand, you could see yourself stripping him bare, climbing over his lap and teasing his cock with your soaked cunt in punishment for the teasing. With him gone all weekend, there will be ample time for thinking up ways to tease him until he’s begging for you. You think you’d like to see that, Azriel whimpering and pleading for you to ride his cock. It would be a nice change from you always being the one worked up until there are tears in your eyes.

“Earth to sweetheart,” Azriel’s gruff voice draws you back to the present. You didn’t even realize you were grinding up against him, your breaths sharp and quick until you remember where you are, who you’re with, and what you’re doing.

You blink, feeling your chest flush when you meet Azriel’s gaze. His eyes are heady with lust, mouth set in a firm line because he’s trying to hold back the grunts and groans that threaten to slip form his throat. He doesn’t want to get caught, no matter how much he likes how you’re dry humping him.

Maybe he can sneak you with. Surely, coach won’t notice an extra body on the bus. Of course, that’s a lie. Nothing gets passed him. But maybe Azriel can convince you to drive down, and he can sneak you into his room for a little pre-game good luck romp in his bed. Yes, that might work. If he can get Rhys and Cass to leave him alone in the room for more than thirty minutes.

“Sorry,” you respond softly, trying to pry yourself away from him. You’re embarrassed that you lost yourself in a daydream right in front of Azriel and wanted more, but his hands are gripping you tighter, squeezing you closely to his chest.

“Look at me,” Azriel demands when you refuse to meet his gaze. You’re hot with embarrassment, and the water pouring down your back isn’t helping. Your name is a soft-spoken warning on his tongue, like if you don’t look up, you’ll be the one that’s getting punished instead.

You can get on board with that, but realization strikes as loud as the giggling of girls on the other side of the curtain does. You’re in the women’s locker room with a boy who’s not supposed to be in here, and he’s supposed to be on a bus leaving for the beach town on the coast to defend their undefeated season against the Sparrows.

You peek up at Azriel, melting under his tender gaze. Your heart pounds hard in your chest, so much to the point that it hurts. How he’s so easily able to calm you, to make you feel better with a single glance, probably means that you’re in way too deep with him. You should’ve been more cautious.

“Don’t be sorry,” he continues, his thumb stroking a soothing pattern across your hip. It lights you on fire, that touch, leaves you craving more. Azriel’s grin is crooked. “I like it when you want me.”

“I want you all the time,” you breathe like some panting girl. Why can’t you stop admitting things like this around him? You’re going to scare him off.

His eyes glitter, and at least you can take relief in the fact that he wants you back, might just want you like you want him.

“I want you all of the time too,” he says against your mouth, because he’s barely grasping onto his self-control by a thread. He kissed you like you’re the missing piece of him, and you allow yourself to fall into it too, brushing your tongue against his. Everything goes out the window when he’s with you; schooling, hockey, everything. There’s a twist in his stomach at the thought of that, that he shouldn’t be putting all his eggs in one basket with you, shouldn’t be letting you distract him like this when there’s so much pressure on his shoulders this year…

You feel it in the way his body locks. It’s quick, but it’s there, and the clapping of flip-flops on the wet tile stomping into the shower beside yours is the perfect excuse for him to pull away.

You don’t know why, but the way he avoids your gaze has you shrinking back under the spray and covering your body with your hands. You don’t know what just happened, to make Azriel go from doting and attentive to closed off and dare you say shy within a nanosecond. It couldn’t have been your admission, because he responded just the same.

You don’t get the chance to find out because he’s peering at you from under his thick, dark lashes, offering you a soft, sad smile, and parting with a quiet goodbye that feels more like a breakup than a see you next week.

“I’ll be seeing you, sweetheart…” He trails off, and it feels like a lie, even more so when he slips past the curtain of your shower without a look back.

It’s funny, that you can trick yourself into thinking you’re not crying when your tears mix with the water from the shower head that’s long gone cold.

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Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13

[artethyst]

Smothered Flames - Pt. 1

a/n: part one of a new fic! there will only be two parts, and the second one should be up by tomorrow (I promise I'm also working on a part 2 for you make it better, I've seen all your requests, and thank you for the love)

pairing: Azriel x Vanserra!Reader

content warnings: language, anxiety attack, allusions to past trauma

word count: 6.5k

synopsis: You were the Vanserras' best kept secret. That is, until you followed Eris to the Night Court, and you ended up finding more than you bargained for.

my masterlist

~ ~ ~

The faint sound of dripping water echoed around you. You counted the continuous drops until you lost track, then started over, and over, and over again. You sat propped against a stone wall, its roughly hewn surface scratching against your skin any time you shifted. The only source of light was a dim orange glow that emanated from so far down the hall that it only barely let you make out the iron bars of your cell. You held your hand up in front of your face, wincing at the sharp pain that radiated through your shoulder at the movement. Those bastards probably fractured something.

You could barely make out the shape of your hand in the suffocating darkness. You weakly lowered it back down to your side, leaning your head back against the wall. Your face was stiff with dried blood from the scrape you earned along your hairline, and your throat was dry from hours without water. You wondered how long they would keep you here. How long until someone came to interrogate you, to inflict pain worse than a head scrape and fractured shoulder? Maybe they would just leave you here until the darkness and silence drove you mad, or until you died of thirst. You didn’t let your mind wander any further, didn’t let yourself think about all the cruel and wicked stories you had heard about the Night Court.

You never should have followed Eris. You should have minded your own damn business and let him do whatever the hell it was he had wrapped himself up in. He has been disappearing for days out a time for months, though, and you were worried. You were worried your father might have pulled him into some wretched plan of his that would only end up getting Eris killed. It was no secret that Eris would be the next High Lord, and everyone knew he was the least malleable for your father and his courtesans to shape and mold. He got away with it though by acting just as wretched as the male ordering him around, slipping into a facade that hid his true intentions and heart. No, your brother was not cruel, despite what the world thought, and you knew if you didn’t look out for him, no one else would.

You supposed the sentiment behind your fool’s mission was fair, but the execution of it was grossly miscalculated. A fact you quickly realized when you came face to face with Night Court soldiers in the snowy woods outside their main city. They did not hesitate to detain you, shoving you hard to the ground the second you turned to run, and then dragged you underground and into this musty and dark cell. Eris likely didn’t even know you were here, wasn’t even aware that you still had access to the tracking spells he had given you during the war. Your chest tightened. You were going to die down here, and Eris might never know what happened to you.

The sound of muffled voices made you freeze. The voices grew closer and closer, their heavy footsteps echoing loudly against the walls.

“This better be damn important.”

“It is, sir,” a nervous voice replied.

Another voice, much less reverent, sneered “If you didn’t want to be bothered, you should have just let us do away with her. I’m sure Kier could have found some use for the pretty thing.”

A chill wracked your body, and you couldn’t stop the trembles that overtook you.

A beat of silence filled the tunnel again, then the first voice growled, “You’d do well to remember who you’re speaking to.”

“I report to Kier,” the male replied haughtily.

“And I outrank Kier,” the other male sneered. “Keep that in mind.”

Three large silhouettes appeared in the darkness outside your cell, and you swore the one in the middle had wings. Oh gods. You felt his eyes on you, as if he was analyzing every shaky breath you took and every tremor that shook you. You supposed it would make sense for the Night Court fae to have exceptional vision in the dark.

“Why is she here?” the male asked.

The meek one answered, “We found her outside a few hours ago, in the woods. We believe she is from the Autumn Court.”

Your skin prickled with anxiety. They hadn’t seen your ring with the Vanserra family insignia. You balled your hand into a fist, hiding the gold band from sight.

The cell door slid open with a deafening screech, and you winced as the winged male stalked toward you. He crouched in front of you slowly, and when the gems adorning him flared with a cobalt blue glow, you could barely make out the harsh lines of his cheekbones and the cold eyes staring at you. The darkness around him seemed to pulse, and your heart lurched at the realization of who exactly they had sent to deal with you.

The Shadowsinger. All of your brothers loathed the male. Some of them used to whisper taunts and threats in your ear that the Shadowsinger would come to steal you away in the middle of the night if you didn’t do something they demanded of you. Sometimes they did it just to be cruel, to watch the tears well up in your eyes. Decades had passed and you were no longer the sniveling child that they would taunt with scary stories, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still cruel, that they hadn’t found new ways to torment you when Eris wasn’t around. You wondered if their cruelty was about to seem like child’s play once the Shadowsinger had his way with you.

You jolted at the cool touch of his skin on your wrist. His fingers dug slightly into the skin, pulling your hand to him and forcing your fingers to unfurl. He examined the exposed ring, the familial crest you had turned inward to your palm. You hated the damned thing, really, but Eris had given it to you. He made you promise to wear it, and so you did. You never took it off.

The Shadowsinger hummed softly, then growled to the other males. “Leave, and get me Cassian.”

His grip on your wrist never weakened, and you struggled to swallow the fear bubbling up in your throat. You were still trembling, skin littered with goosebumps. You thought you might vomit, until finally, after minutes of silence passed, the male asked with a chilling, quiet voice, “What is a female like you doing wearing the Vanserra family crest?”

Your stomach dropped. Of course he knew your crest. Of course he could make it out clearly in the dark. You didn’t know what to say. No one outside the Forest House knew you existed, and no one outside your family knew your heritage. The accidental daughter of the High Lord of Autumn born centuries after their youngest son. A daughter with little to no magic in her blood, not compared to her brothers. An embarrassment. A mistake. For seventy years you had been hidden away in that court, rarely getting to even take a breath of fresh air unless Eris stole you away for a ride through the forest. You had no training to protect yourself with, no idea how to withstand an interrogation, torture.

“Fine,” the male said smoothly. “Don’t tell me. We’ll find out some other way.”

He stood up from where he was crouched on the ground, dropping your wrist abruptly, the pain in your shoulder contorting your face. He took note of the reaction, the obvious pain you were in, but said nothing. Panic clawed at your throat, squeezing around it tighter and tighter. “It was a mistake,” you rasped out. Your eyes were wide, and you were sure you looked pathetic. Trembling and bloody on the ground. 

“What was?” he asked, voice hard.

You shook your head. “I shouldn’t have been in these woods. I didn’t know that’s where I would end up. I was just following—” you cut yourself off.

He took another step closer, the toe of his boot brushing your own damp one. “Following who?” His voice was so cold and dark it sent another chill through you.

“Me, I presume.”

Your head swiveled toward the familiar voice so fast that you were shocked your neck didn’t snap. Your brother stepped inside, moving toward you on steady feet, but his eyes were aglow with fiery anger. A sob of relief escaped you, and your shoulders curled in on yourself as the adrenaline fueling you finally crashed. He knelt beside you, tilting your head gently to look at the scrape on your head. His eyes snapped to Azriel. “Did you do this?” he growled.

“No,” the Shadowsinger snapped. “Two of Kier’s men found her,” he said pointedly, “and they brought her here.”

Eris’s breathing was heavy with barely restrained anger. 

“Eris,” you started quietly.

“Not now,” he said lowly.

“Do you care to explain yourself, Eris?” another midnight smooth voice drawled from the cell entrance. Your eyes darted over to him, failing to have noticed the two other males that had followed your brother. One of them had wings and glowing gems like the Shadowsinger, only his were red instead of blue.

You knew Eris was seething, and a small part of you feared what he would say to you once you were alone again. There was no denying that you had royally fucked up. Eris said with that fake haughty drawl he donned around everyone, “Once you fetch my sister a healer and some dry clothes, gladly.”

The silence and tension was palpable with his reveal. You weren’t sure if the shudder that went through you was from your anxiety about the revelation to these Night Court males, or from the still ebbing adrenaline that had wreaked havoc on your body for the last few hours.

Eris’s hands skimmed down your shoulders before easing you up by the arm. His hands were so warm, and you once again envied his fire magic. His head turned to the other males. “Now,” he snapped.

~ ~ ~

You were bundled in a sweater, leggings, and wool socks that smelt of jasmine. A thick wool blanket was wrapped around you, and a gentle healer worked diligently on your shoulder as your brother paced behind you. The room they had winnowed you to was lavish and ornate, and open. There were no windows because the room led to a vast outdoor balcony that was only separated by billowing drapes. You couldn’t deny the relief you felt when you realized you were out from that cold and dark mountain. You had expected them to give you some old rags to change into, maybe in a room with light, but certainly not this.

The healer finished her work, the throbbing of your shoulder reduced to a dull ache and the gash on your head sealed shut. Your hair was still in disarray, but at least some of the dirt and blood had been wiped from your skin. You were still trembling slightly, both from anxiety and a lingering chill. Once the healer left you and Eris alone, you turned your head slowly to face him. He ignored your stare, continuing to pace slowly back and forth.

“Eris,” you murmured.

He glanced at you briefly, but he said nothing.

“Eris,” you said again, voice pleading.

“Not now, Y/N,” he snapped.

You sucked in a breath, absorbing the sting inflicted by his harsh tone. Despite it, you still said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

His eyes locked on yours, softening slightly. He let out a long sigh and ran a hand over his face, halting his incessant pacing. “I know you are,” he breathed out. “But what were you thinking? How did you even know where I went?”

Your eyes narrowed. “I was thinking that my brother had been acting suspiciously for months, and if I had noticed, it was only a matter of time before someone else did.” Then, a bit more sheepishly, you said, “I used the tracking spell you gave me during the war.” His eyes narrowed, and you hurried to add, “I only wanted to make sure you were okay. That you weren’t in over your head with something or that our father hadn’t roped you into an inescapable scheme.”

He muttered something under his breath, looking to the ceiling. “You are too clever for your own good.”

You scoffed. “Hardly.”

His narrowed eyes fixed on you. “I have a tentative alliance with the Night Court,” he admitted softly.

Your eyes widened. “The Night Court?”

“Yes,” he sighed, moving to sit in the armchair beside yours. “We have a mutual interest in removing Beron from his throne.”

You opened your mouth to ask more questions, to demand a better explanation, but he cut you a scathing look. “And that is all, I will tell you about the matter. It is not safe for you to know anything about this. It’s not safe for you to be here, period.”

You glanced at the closed double doors, knowing it was only a matter of time before members of that court came storming in. You worried your lip between your teeth. “Eris,” you said softly. “They know about me now.”

He let out another long breath, closing his eyes as he rested his head on the back of the chair. “Indeed.”

You didn’t really appreciate the nonchalance he held. If they treated you like that without knowing who you were, what would they do to you now? Would they try to hold you over Eris? “Eris,” you urged, the fear in your voice making him look at you. “What are they going to do to me?”

He frowned at that, leaning forward. “They aren’t going to do anything to you.”

“But, the Night Court knows about me. I’m not supposed to exist, Eris, and now they know—”

He put a firm hand on your shoulder, cutting off your nervous rambling. “They aren’t going to hurt you, okay? I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. You have to trust me.”

“But, Eris—”

He squeezed your shoulder. “You know that facade of mine you hate so much?” You nodded. “Well, the Night Court has similar…tactics,” he said, albeit a bit reluctantly. You both turned toward the door at the sound of footsteps in the hall. “Just let me talk to them,” he said quickly, then stood up as the three males walked through the doors.

The male in the middle had violet eyes that promised violence, and you blanched a little at the sight of the powerful High Lord. “Start talking, Eris,” he demanded.

Eris folded his hands behind his back, slipping into a role of indifference he knew how to play all too well. “This lovely female you had locked in that dark and dingy cell is my younger sister, Y/N.”

The Shadowsinger snarled, “You don’t have a sister.”

Eris raised his brows. “That you knew of.”

“Why keep her a secret for…” the High Lord trailed off, his eyes locked on you. “How old are you?”

You swallowed, answering quietly, “Seventy-three.”

Eris cut you a glare that was clearly a reminder to let him talk. The High Lord’s brows rose at the number, and you couldn’t tell if it was because you had been hidden for decades or because you were not even a century old.

“So you’ve kept her hidden for seven decades…why?”

Eris seemed to mull over his answer, his hesitance his first display of unease with the situation. You were shocked when he said truthfully, “My father thinks she is an embarrassment to the family.” Your cheeks heated at the words. “He is a bastard that only cares about power, and Y/N does not seem to possess the characteristic fire of a Vanserra. He does not wish her absence of power to tarnish his reputation.”

“But she can winnow,” the male with red siphons pointed out.

“Yes. She is not powerless, she’s just different. That doesn’t matter to my father, though,” Eris said with disdain. You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, looking down at your lap in shame. No matter how much Eris assured you that he didn’t care how much power you had, that it wasn’t your fault you didn’t have fire in your veins, it still ate away at your insides. 

You slowly looked up at the Shadowsinger across the room, your cheeks flushing further when you realized his eyes were already locked on you. You couldn’t decipher his cool, stoic expression, but his eyes didn’t leave you while his High Lord questioned your brother. You dragged your gaze away again, focusing on your trembling hands in your lap.

“And you? Why did you hide her? Why not tell us?”

A beat of silence passed. “She is good,” Eris said quietly. “She is nothing like my brothers. At first, I followed along with my father’s orders just to keep her safe from turmoil. Then keeping her secret meant keeping her away from Amarantha. Then, I didn’t want her involved with this, but it seems that plan is void now.” He looked at you again.

“You said no one could follow you,” the red-siphoned male snapped. “How much has she heard? Who else has been trailing you?”

“She is the only exception,” Eris snarled. “I gave her spells to track me during the war. In case things went awry and she needed to find me. She used them to follow me today after noticing my frequent disappearances to meet with you.” He added a bit more softly, glancing at you. “She’s the exception because she’s the only one who cares enough to notice.”

The males looked between themselves—well, the High Lord and General did. The Shadowsinger had yet to stop staring at you, his shadows slowly slithering around him, and it was incredibly unnerving. Eris seemed to notice too. “She is not a threat to you,” he snapped, glaring at the male. “So you can stop sizing her up. She’s still fucking trembling from this whole ordeal.”

You tucked your hands beneath your thighs to hide their shaking. The High Lord looked at Eris with bemused eyes, and the General looked like he had just watched him sprout a second head. Eris sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. The display of anxiety made your eyes widened. “I need you all to do me a favor.”

The High Lord scoffed. “You must be joking.”

“I’m not,” Eris growled. “I need you to keep her with you.”

The males looked bewildered, and you shot up from your seat. “Excuse me?” you asked, fear and confusion reeling through you. He wanted to leave you here?

“You have been gone for hours, Y/N,” he said to you, voice pleading. “Nearly half a day. He knows. I guarantee he knows you’re missing, and if you go back now, I do not know—,” his breath caught, “I do not know what he might do to you. What he might use this as an excuse for. You will be safer in the Night Court.”

You laughed incredulously, panic causing tears to well up in your eyes. “Safe? In the Night Court?”

His eyes were wide, begging you to listen to him, but you couldn’t understand. You knew you would be in deep shit at home, but could it really be worse than staying here with the High Lord of Night and his fearsome court? You were shaking your head when he said, “I know what stories you’ve heard. I know the shit our brothers tormented you with as a child and the rumors you heard circulating as an adult. But they are stories. I would not leave you here if I thought they would harm you.”

A tear fell down your cheek, and Eris looked like he could vomit at the sight. He tore his gaze away from you to look at the High Lord again. His eyes were wet as he simply said, “Please.”

The High Lord looked between the two of you, his General doing the same, while his Shadowsinger continued to focus his gaze on you alone. Eventually, he said, voice surprisingly soft compared to the vitriolic tone he had minutes ago, “She can stay.”

The males beside him flicked their eyes to their High Lord in surprise, even the Shadowsinger broke his stare to flash a confused look at him. “No,” the word fell from your lips without thought, and your eyes snapped from the High Lord back to Eris. “No. I am not staying here. I cannot stay here, Eris. At least in the Forest House I,” you took a shaky breath, “I have light, and books, and I know how to cope but I cannot stay here—”

“You will still have those things here,” the High Lord told you, startling you from your rambling pleas to Eris. Eris looked at you with sad eyes, but he nodded his head.

Your mouth opened and closed, your words escaping you as your mind struggled to comprehend the situation you had been thrown into. 

“We will take her to Velaris,” the High Lord told Eris. He glanced at the General who gave him a terse nod. “She can stay in the House of Wind.”

Eris’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you,” he breathed, the gratitude clearly genuine. Gone was the typically arrogant male that swaggered around with nonchalance. 

“This doesn’t mean you have free access to Velaris, though,” the High Lord said.

Panic clawed at your chest. “I won’t be able to see him?” your voice was so weak, and it made your cheeks heat in shame.

“You will,” the High Lord answered, voice surprisingly gentle. “You’re not a prisoner, but Velaris is heavily warded and protected. He will need an invitation to enter.”

Eris suddenly gripped you by the shoulders. “I am not going to force you to stay here,” he said, voice ragged. “But your only other options are to go to a safe house, alone, or back to the Forest House. Which isn’t really a true option.”

His words settled in your stomach like bricks. “You will have more freedom in Velaris than you have ever had in Autumn,” Eris assured softly.

The High Lord gave you a small, feline smile that wasn’t exactly comforting, but you supposed it wasn’t threatening. He glanced at the still as stone Shadowsinger next to him briefly, then back to you. “I think you will find more than you could ever imagine in Velaris,” he seemed to purr.

Eris stiffened, glaring at the male, but he quickly dropped the tension and looked back at you. “I’m begging you to go with them.”

You bit your lip, anxiety thrumming through you. You glanced between all of the males, desperately trying to find a way out of this, but you came up empty. The desperation in Eris’s eyes was what pushed you to nod your head in acquiescence, murmuring a soft, “Okay.”

Eris pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “I’m going to take care of Beron,” he swore to you quietly. You wrapped your shaky arms around his waist. “I promise I will. I’ll get you back home soon, once it’s safe for you to actually live there.”

He squeezed you once before pulling away, your hands slowly dropping to your sides. You both stared at each other, neither really wanting to be separated from the other.

“We should go,” the High Lord said, pulling your attention away from your brother. He held out his hand for you to take, presumably to winnow you to wherever Velaris is.

You hesitantly walked over to him, placing your hand in his reluctantly. You avoided the gazes of the other two males. “Take care of her, Rhysand,” Eris growled.

The High Lord, Rhysand, simply nodded, before wrapping the two of you in darkness.

~ ~ ~

“Why are you not in the library?”

You glanced up from the book you were reading while curled up on the sofa in the main sitting room of the House of Wind. The Shadowsinger, Azriel, was standing a few feet away from you with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Your cheeks instantly heated, and your heart rate skyrocketed under his intense gaze.

“Because she’s meeting me,” Nesta answered as she appeared from the corridor.

Azriel turned toward her. “She’s meant to be working.”

Nesta waved an irreverent hand as she moved toward you, sitting down on the cushion beside yours. You slowly closed your book, nerves making your stomach turn. You had been here for two weeks now, and you had done your best to keep your head down and do as you were told, but befriending Nesta had caused unexpected difficulties in doing so. “Clotho said it was fine,” Nesta told him. “We’re going down to the city today.”

Nervous energy mixed with excitement thrummed through your veins. Admittedly, the freedom you had in the House of Wind was more than you were ever given in the Forest House, but the prospect of visiting a city, of mingling with other faeries, had made your heart race when Nesta offered a tour.

“And Rhys approved?” Azriel asked.

Nesta arched her brow. “I wasn’t aware we needed his approval,” she drawled. “After all, ‘Y/N is not our prisoner.’”

Azriel’s nostrils flared. He glanced at you, eyes icy, before looking back at Nesta. “She is still a Vanserra.”

You winced. Somehow Azriel’s perpetual disdain for you, even after you had done your best to stay out of the way and to avoid causing problems, still stung every time you were reminded of it. It hurt, actually, like someone was piercing your chest with a white hot iron every time he glared at you or ignored you or reminded everyone of your unsavory familial relations. You couldn’t fathom why, either, for nothing he had done ever rivaled the torment of your brothers.

“She is a Vanserra in name,” Nesta seethed, standing up to face him head on. Your eyes widened. “A name that has earned her decades of abuse and neglect.” Shame heated your cheeks as she revealed snippets of what you had shared with her during your shared shifts in the library. “Tell me, Azriel,” she hissed, “Should I see you as your father’s son?”

Azriel’s eyes flared with rage, and Nesta quickly softened, posture deflating a bit. Your eyes danced between the two powerful fae. “Of course not,” she said softly. “Because you are not him, and she—” Her eyes glanced at you. “Is not her wretched family.”

A small part of you wanted to defend Eris, to tell them not to lump him in with the rest of the wicked bunch, but you were not naive to your brother’s past transgressions against the Night Court, so you kept your mouth shut. Azriel’s eyes reluctantly locked with yours. You could practically see the emotions warring within him, the conflict behind his eyes that you didn’t understand. “Apologies,” he muttered reluctantly.

“Wonderful,” Nesta crooned, voice dipped in sarcasm. “Well done, Az.” She reached for the book in your lap, sitting it on the end table, before pulling you to your feet. “Now be a nice bat, and give us a lift,” she told him as she pulled you to the balcony.

Azriel reluctantly followed, his face a mask of indifference again, but you could still see the tension limning his features. “I can only take one of you at a time,” he said, moving toward Nesta. He easily picked her up, the female looking a bit smug. His eyes met yours briefly. “I’ll be right back.” Then he shot up into the sky, the bat of his wings stirring the dust around you, and then they disappeared all together into a blur of darkness.

You stared at the fading shadows in awe. Rhys had winnowed the two of you to the House of Wind, his wings catching your terrifying free fall toward the balcony that night Eris pawned you off on their court. You had not flown again though, had not gone anywhere outside of this mountain since then.

Azriel suddenly appeared above you again, his wings slowing his descent back down to the balcony. They folded in behind him once he landed, and his eyes landed on you. Your mouth went dry as you met his hard, stoic gaze, and a spike of fear shot through you as he took a step toward you.

He froze when you took a step back, his brow crinkling. You licked your lips, folding your arms across your chest. No male had ever touched you. Eris had effectively scared off any leering sentries that knew you existed, and apart from your brother, you were never shown any sort of affection. You had come to anticipate any physical advances made by your other siblings to be acts of torment, and you suddenly didn’t know if you could handle Azriel holding you in the damn sky.

“What is it?” he asked, impatience seeping into his tone.

You swallowed hard. “You don’t like me.”

Azriel frowned. “I don’t like your family.”

“That seems to translate to you disliking me.”

Azriel shook his head, taking another step forward. You stepped back again, aware of the nearing balcony rail. He stopped again, looking you up and down. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said slowly.

Your teeth ached from how hard your jaw was clenched. “I don’t want you to touch me.”

Azriel looked to the sky, and you weren’t sure if it was from exasperation or anger, but you couldn’t stomach the thought of this male who clearly did not like you, literally holding your life in his hands. His gaze fell back toward yours, and you were surprised by the lack of anger in his eyes.

“You can winnow, yes?”

You nodded slowly. He moved toward the edge of the balcony, pointing to a rocky ridge half way down the mountain. “If you jump from here, and wait until you pass that ridge, you’ll be outside of the House’s wards.” You stared at him, and he lifted his brows. “Then you can winnow to the city.”

A new trepidation sluiced through your veins. “What if I don’t winnow in time?”

“I’ll catch you.”

You immediately started to protest, but he cut you off, “Or would you rather I let you fall to your death?”

Your mouth immediately shut. You leaned over the edge of the balcony, assessing the drop from here to that ridge, then from the ridge to the ground. You could do it. Eris had trained you when you first learned you could winnow, throwing you head first into a million different scenarios to test your reaction time. You could winnow after falling from a tree, surely you could do the same off a mountain. 

“Okay,” you breathed. You started to climb over the edge of the railing, but warm, rough hands pulled you back. You immediately tensed at the contact, but Azriel’s hands didn’t leave you until you were stabilized on the ground again.

He stared at you with wide, incredulous eyes. “Wait for me to go down first.”

Your skin flushed. “Right,” you mumbled.

Azriel still looked bewildered when he launched into the sky, before immediately diving toward the base of the mountain. His wings were truly magnificent, as they shimmered in the afternoon sunlight while they helped him glide easily to the ground. Even though he looked significantly smaller down on the ground, you could tell he landed easily on his feet, taking a few steps to stabilize himself. You couldn’t understand how someone that emanated the promise of violence could move with so much grace.

He looked up at you from his position on the ground, and you took that as your cue. You breathed in deep, holding it for a second before letting it out slowly. Before you could psych yourself out, you flung yourself over the balcony that jutted out of the mountain, eyes locked on the rocky ledge as the wind wrapped violently around you. You could feel your body dropping with increasing speed, and you readied yourself to step into the universe’s fabric as the ledge neared. As soon as you passed the rocks and you felt the weight of the wards lift from your shoulders, you squeezed your eyes shut and willed your body to wrap into the unsettling darkness of the world.

One second you were free falling down the side of the mountain, and the next you were crashing into the hard wall of Azriel’s chest. He immediately circled his arms around you, but the force of your impact knocked both of you to the ground, with him taking the brunt of your fall. You groaned from the pain that shot through your wrist that you had used to brace yourself, but you went still as death once your brain processed the position you were in.

You immediately rolled off of Azriel, hissing when you put weight on your wrist. You shifted to lean on your other hand, then quickly pulled that one away when you felt the smooth, leathery membrane of his wing instead of the dirt of the ground. You sucked in a breath as you looked at him frantically. He still laid flat on his back, his wings splayed out in the dirt beneath him, with an arm covering his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you rushed out, fear creeping in for not only knocking him down but then touching his wing. “I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry, please—”

“Y/N,” his dry voice cut you off, and your lips trembled, “stop talking.”

“Sorry,” you whispered, then winced. You cradled your injured wrist to your chest while you still stared at him wide-eyed. Panic was slowly squeezing at your lungs.

He slowly sat up, fluttering his wings to shake the dust from them. You froze at how close they were to you, and you waited for him to berate you, threaten you, to yell something at you for your stupidity. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet, and then he offered you his hand.

You shakily placed your hand in his, eyes briefly snagging on the brutally scarred skin. He pulled you to your feet, stabilizing you with his other hand when you wobbled forward.

You watched him nervously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I’m so sorry,” you whimpered again, hating the fear rushing through you, hating that your instincts made you freeze and plead for mercy instead of fighting back.

Azriel seemed to falter, his expression turning stricken as he looked you over. Something tight wrapped around the center of your chest, pulling at your heart, and it made your breaths turn shallow. You didn’t understand why he was drawing this out, why he was just standing there, watching you tremble in front of him.

He stepped closer, and you flinched. “I need you to take a breath for me,” he said quietly.

Your eyes snapped toward his. You pressed your palm against your chest, wincing again when the movement sent a stab of pain through your hand. He gently pulled your hand away from you, and you didn’t realize how much you were shaking until your hand rested in his. You couldn’t comprehend the gentleness in his touch, the calm in his voice as he spoke to you. You especially couldn’t understand the tightening rope in your chest that was nearly suffocating you in combination with your panic.

“Y/N.” Your vision refocused on Azriel, and you wondered how long he had been speaking to you when you recognized the panic in his eyes. His voice sounded warped, and the sun was too bright. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t breathe.

The rope tightening in your chest was suddenly yanked, and it snapped you from your panicked haze. You sucked in a deep breath, recognizing the chill of the air on your damp cheeks. Azriel still had your injured wrist in his hand, but he didn’t touch you anywhere else, yet it felt like you could feel him in your very pores. You searched for the rope in your chest that somehow anchored you to reality after you had mistaken it for panic. 

You felt the threads of it still tangled in your chest, and you let your instincts pull at them with whatever power resided in you. Your breath faltered again as you followed those threads to the male in front of you, who gasped when you tugged at them.

A new wave of panic washed over you, as you slowly realized what this meant. What your stupid accident had just revealed to the Spymaster of the Night Court. A shiver shook your body as you shook your head. “No.”

Azriel looked like he was in physical pain as he stared at you. You took an unsteady step back, Azriel following after you when you stumbled. “No,” you repeated. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he told you, voice so uncharacteristically soft. His eyes were pleading with you to listen, but you couldn’t escape the torrent of thoughts that whipped around you.

You couldn’t be someone’s mate. You couldn’t. You couldn’t live the shell of a life you’ve watched your mother endure for your entire life. You would rather go back to the Forest House than live a life shackled to a male who would expect you there for his beck and call.

You stood there completely frozen, trembling as you stood there helplessly in front of this powerful male. You could winnow away from him, but to where? Where could you go so that he or his shadows wouldn’t find you? The first time you had winnowed over a long distance was when you followed Eris two weeks ago, but you had the help of his spell to push you to your destination. You didn’t know how far you could go on your own.

“Y/N,” Azriel pleaded. “Please, just take a deep breath.” He ran a shaky hand through his dark hair. “I swear to the Mother, I am not going to hurt you. I promise.”

You just stared at him. He closed his eyes, his lips slightly wavering. You didn’t move, but neither did he. You weren’t sure when he had dropped your wrist.

“Azriel?” a soft, female voice asked from behind him.

You locked eyes on the pretty female. The High Lady. You had met her once, when you first arrived in her court. She seemed nice, she seemed strong and lively for a female mated to a High Lord. You thought she might help you. 

“Feyre,” Azriel said, voice cracking. You looked between them wildly. “She needs to see a healer.”

Feyre studied the two of you, concern flooding her gaze. She moved toward Azriel, but he shook his head, and she stilled. She pressed her lips together, eyes widening slightly after a minute, before her gaze focused on you. Her eyes were soft as she slowly walked over to you, a warm, tattooed hand resting on your shoulder. “Let’s get that wrist taken care of, yeah?” she hummed. You had barely nodded before she wrapped the two of you in darkness, and you sagged against her gentle touch.

[artethyst]

I don’t know about the other gingerfucker freaks but rest assured I have been well behaved, in fact, I would say the most well behaved to receive a lil snippet your grace 🙏🏻

This made me laugh so here’s a big snippet of what I’ve been working on since yesterday 🫶🏻 it’s unedited so 🔫 be nice 🔫

Kidnapping gingerfucker fic snippet below!!

Lucien’s mate seemed happy to carry Atlas around, her soft voice explaining to him the recent travels she and Lucien had gone on.

“Tulips of every color covered the fields. I’m sure one day Lu and I can take you to see them.”

“Uh oh, Elain. The High Lord’s going to kill you for speaking of kidnapping his son.” He wasn’t sure if Nesta knew he needed banter to keep his mind occupied or that he needed her to act as she always did. Either way, her words put him slightly at ease.

“Nonsense, Elain. If I had you killed, Lucien would mope about the house for the reat of his life.” His hands reached out, gently taking Atlas from her hold. “You keep him entertained for him. I owe you a great debt for it.”

Elain never knew how to respond to Eris, had only truly interacted with him a handful of times up to this point. She swallowed, determined to make some headway with her mate’s brother.

“Perhaps you could entertain him with the dog toys?”

Eris tilted his head, his thumb stroking down his son’s back as he bit back a laugh. He knew any Cauldron fated mate of Lucien’s and sister to Nesta was surely somebody of interest to him, but Elain had yet to show anything Eris found to be interesting until now.

“Did you just make a joke?”

“Yes.”

Eris nodded, accepting that maybe he had underestimated his brother’s mate. The air held a hint of awkwardness as they all stared at each other, the two sisters filing out quickly. The click of the door behind them was a beautiful symphony to Eris’s ears. To be alone with his son at last. It had only been twelve hours, but it was more like weeks had passed since he had seen Atlas’s small face, kissing his forehead goodbye. Nothing had felt off - no sense of anxiety overcame him, no fear for his family. Just annoyance and sadness at being away from them.

His mate had only made Autumn her home not even two years prior, but they spent every night in the same bed, arms wrapped tight each other in slumber.

Eris had always hated sharing a bed - he ran so warm when he slept, the few occasions another fae was in his bed lasted mere hours before he kicked them out in the middle of the night, hurriedly giving them their clothes and shoes. The years had softened him and he dreaded spending an evening alone in the bed much too big for one.

Eris slipped off his shoes, gently cradling Atlas as he made his way up the mattress, propping himself up against the headboard, back cushioned by pillows. His son had been restless in his arms when he took him from Elain, his little arms and legs trying to disturb the perfectly swaddled blanket around him.

The room had no windows and technically connected to his private chambers. When he was a boy, he had a full time nursemaid stay in here. Once he outgrew her, the space became his own private sanctuary. It took many years to turn it into its glory, a safehaven of his own design. Many nights spent hidden in this room, no concept of the passage of time as he poured over books, back curved in desperation to stay awake so he could finish it.

The shelves of books and notebooks still lined the walls, but he had some of the furniture removed and replaced with the bedframe and mattress should his mate eventually want her own chambers.

His head dug into the headboard as he realized this might be the first anyone’s used this bed. A pity, he thought, it was extremely comfortable. His muscles ached less the longer he stayed still, and he softly piled up pillows on each side of him.

Atlas was stirring in his arms, tiny coos resembling the chirping of birds. He broached a long finger close to Atlas, tiny hands wrapping around it as he settled back down. If he could, he’d strip his shirt to allow his son to rest on his skin, but thought better of it. The jostling would wake him for good, and he’d be doubly upset to know he was on someone’s chest who wasn’t his mother.

The sound of deep breaths was all that could be heard in the room as Eris used his magic to put out the lit candles littering every surface. The darkness of the shadows made his eyes heavier, but he fought to stay awake, not wanting to let his guard down.

“My beautiful son.” Hushed words filled the room, the warmth of his voice almost visible in the darkness.Atlas didn’t acknowledge the words, content in his slumber and being with his father. He felt warm in Eris’s arms, Vanserra babies always running hot.

“I will always find you.” Outside the moon rose high in the air, the cold bringing a slight frost to Autumn. The midnight hour was one Eris made most of his best kept promises, all relating to the mate from the Night Court he found centuries ago. A tradition he unknowingly passed on to doing with his son. He was so pale, cheeks flaming pink. He didn’t know his father was High Lord or general of Autumn’s armies for centuries. He had yet to experience the parts of himself Eris wanted to keep hidden. Eris’s eyes closed slowly, lulled by his son’s breathing, content to know that for now, his son only knew the best parts of his father.

[artethyst]

Family Reunion (Part XXXII)

A/N: Okay here's another emotional rollercoaster. Similar to expecting but with more detail. I tried writing Rhys and Lyra sparring mentally so hopefully it flows well!

Warnings: Language, violence, pregnancy, hints of smut but nothing happens, bargain oaths, overprotective mates, mentions of death, Koschei, mentions of abuse

Need to catch up or look for the next part? Want more fluff? Click here

The next night Lyra and Eris snuck out of Autumn and into the Night Court. It was far easier than the other times because Beron was away. Eris was grateful for that because Lyra was still feverish and nauseous. He almost insisted she stay back after he found her in their bathroom after returning from his various meetings earlier that morning. If she didn’t need to come and explain what the Princes wanted and why Vassa was in the equation now to her brother he would have made her stay in his court with his hounds guarding her. And with the new threat of the Sorcerer entering her mind, he knew she needed to talk to Rhys.

Now in the Court of Nightmares, Eris was quickly ambushed by Kier. 

“Ah, Eris!” He said eagerly, striding over. Lyra rolled her eyes and squeezed Eris’s hand. He looked at his gorgeous wife in her gown. The Cauldron boiled and fry him,  she looked so divine in the black gown, black sheer fabric hugged her tattooed arms, shoulders, waist and knees. Black fabric covered the rest of her with bright diamonds bordering the covering fabric and sheer fabric. All Eris wanted to do was drop to his knees and worship the female in front of this court.

He looked back to the male approaching him. “Kier, always an eventful night to see you.” He greeted the male, all thoughts of his wife being shoved back so he could half listen to Kier. 

“Yes, well, Rhysand and that human insisted on coming here tonight.” Kier said with bitterness.

“Your High Lord and High Lady,” Lyra corrected, glaring at the male. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her heated glare matched how warm her hand felt. Eris felt the damper slowly fade from her magic as the ground rumbled in warning. 

Kier, the bastard, ignored her, barely sparing her a look. Eris couldn’t decide if he was pleased with him not looking at his mate because he probably would have gauged the males eyes out, or if he should demand respect for her. 

“There’s been rumors of rebellion in Illyria, I reckon it is a power move to make sure we stay in line. I, for one, have not received my end of the bargain from Rhysand. I want to see Velaris. Maybe we will have our own rebellion here” Kier said.

Lyra clenched her injured hand, and continued to glare at the insufferable male. Eris squeezed her hand in warning and she turned to face him. “I am going to visit Madja real quick, I’ll be back for our meeting with the Night Court’s High Lord and High Lady.” She emphasized the titles and shot Kier another glare before striding through the grand doors. 

‘Everything alright?’ Eris asked through the bond.

A moment passed and Eris checked her end to make sure it wasn’t walled off and he was about to repeat the question but she replied, ‘Yes, I wanted to get checked out because the nausea and fever haven’t gone away. I just wanted to be safe that isn’t a sickness or that my concussion isn’t worse than what Edith assessed. And I miss Madja, she was like a second mother.’

‘Keep me updated, please’ anxiety creeped up at the thought of her seeing the healer without him. What if she gave her a bad diagnosis and he wasn’t there to comfort her, what if-

“I mean it is ridiculous! I offer my Darkbringers and they get slaughtered and he can’t keep his end of the deal!” Kier says completely unaware that Eris was not listening. 

“Yes, tragic,” Eris said boredly, he fights the urge to roll his eyes as he spots Mor entering. Thank the Mother, they were finally here.

Everyone froze and music stopped as Azriel and Cassian strode in next. Their siphons glowing with warning. Then the short female with silver eyes, Amren he thought her name was, and Aneka now with blond hair though her Auburn roots were poking through, entered next with solemn looks. Then much to Eris’s shock Maya from Dawn and the new High Lady of Summer walked in. Kristen, turned and smirked at Eris. He was shocked Tarquinn was not here with her. 

“Kneel for your High Lord and High Lady,” Mor ordered as everyone did just that. Even Maya and Kristen bowed as power grew in the room. Rhysand’s power was so similar to Lyra’s yet where hers seemed wilder, he was more tamed with the same warning of trouble if provoked. Rhysand and Feyre strode in with crowns and elegant clothing, both faces filled with darkness and warning. Once they sat Feyre gave the command to dance and eat.  

Courtiers instantly swarmed them and Eris strode over slowly ignoring Kier. “High Lord, High Lady,” Eris said, interrupting a male complaining about some policy. The male turned ready to snap at him but shut his mouth after realizing who had interrupted.

“Eris,” Rhysand nodded, “I was told my sister would be here.” 

“What? Not excited to see me?” Eris teased and Rhys glared, “She is here,” Eris said, “she needed to speak with Madja first over some technique.” He lied, unsure if Lyra wanted them to know. Granted they would see her hand still wrapped and healing and her bruises on her face were a pale green at this point. He didn’t know what lie she had planned for it or if she would tell them at all. 

“Hmm,” Rhysand said, not buying the lie. No doubt trying to reach her. 

“She will be disappointed to know she missed you two striding in the procession,” Eris commented and smiled at Maya and Kristen both females looked solemn as they watched the audience. “How long has it been since you have done that?”

Kristen answered, “Not since that night.” Eris grimaced. 

“Well hopefully tonight will be better than that,” Eris said, adjusting his dark blazer. 

“I hope not, court posturing is so boring without a little bloodshed,” Kristen said with a yawn and smirk. Her golden eyes glowed with mischief.

“Tarquinn would disagree,” Maya laughed, her own brown eyes flicking to her. 

“True,” Kristen sighed, “That’s why he stayed back, I don’t think he could stomach the Night Court’s methods.” 

With that comment, all the courtiers scattered. Aneka and Cassian laughed. 

“Can we have you come to all of our meetings here?” Cassian asked, “I have never seen so many courtiers run away so quickly.”

“If only they knew she was one of the sweetest females in Prythian,” Maya chuckled. 

“Who are you calling sweet Ms. I Heal the World With Meditation?” Kristen shot back.

“You need it,” Maya said unbothered.

“I do not!” she argued. 

“I miss this,” Neka sighed. “We are just missing Lyra and Thalia.”

A sadness filled the group at the mention of Thalia. 

“What are you doing here?” Eris asked, stepping closer so prying eyes didn’t see how nervous he was. 

“You aren’t the only one with bad news,” Kristen said frowning, “We’ll talk privately, Lyra needs to hear this too.”

Lyra POV:

Lyra quickly found Madja, “I knew you would be here,” Lyra smiled as the healer poured a tonic into a bottle.

“I promised you I would be here to assist with your program for these females,” the healer who had become a second mother for her said as she stirred another tonic.

“Thank you for keeping it going. My departure was so abrupt.” She said,

“Was it though?” The older female asked. “You have always had a pull toward those boys.”

Lyra laughed, “I guess so.”

“What can I help you with, little one?” Little one, even this old, Madja still called her little one. She wondered if she called Rhys the same name and how comical it must be if she does. Lyra would pay good money to see her call her brother Little One during a meeting.

“I haven’t been feeling well lately and I am worried about my symptoms. The timing has kind of left me at a loss of what could possibly be wrong.” She said, Madja nodded for her to go on.  “Well timeline wise, the princes of Hel took me abruptly and Eris found me half frozen. Then that day I got a concussion, hence the bruising and broken hand. It wasn’t Eris,” she added as Madja's eyes filled with worry, “ Beron. I thought it was a concussion at first because of the nausea and vomiting. But then food, I haven’t eaten much in days because almost every smell makes me sick. Then there’s  the fever.” She rambled and the servant’s words hit her again, you may want to see a healer about pregnancy. Fever and sickness is common for Autumn mothers. Her words died as she thought how long it had been really with these symptoms, yes the nausea is new, the fever too but she had been slowly getting warmer for a while and she thought it was just her body getting use to the walking heater she slept next to, then there was her emotion spikes, she had blamed it on the stress, Hel even Eris and Rue thought it was stress. But if Lyra was being honest with herself, she was always stressed and this was nothing new her emotions shouldn’t fluctuate as much as they did.  “Mother above,” Lyra whispered, “I think I might be pregnant.”

Madja gave her a look that was a mix of pride and confirmation. Always the teacher. She gestured to the table, “Lie back and let me check.” 

Lyra followed her instructions and let out a nervous breath, pregnant. Madja's hands glowed first checking her head then her chest before stopping at her stomach. She smiled, “You were correct, Lyra; you are pregnant,” Madja said, gently moving her hands from her stomach.

You are pregnant. Her words opened a door of emotions all conflicting and competing with each other. She was happy and couldn’t help but think of the boys in the vision, how happy she and Eris had looked with their little family. Nova and Forrest. The boys she kept as her piece of hope for a better future and now she was pregnant. Then fear as reality hit her too, the Trove, the Princes, Beron, the Sorcerer, the Valkyries, all threats and danger not only to her and Eris but would be for the babe. Not to mention a child of a High Lord’s heir. This babe would be put in so much danger.  A sob escaped her mouth. And if war happened and Lyra died, Eris would too, leaving this babe alone.

“What’s wrong child? This is good news!” Madja asked, studying Lyra’s face with her brown eyes, concern on her face.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Lyra begged. 

“I won’t,” Madja said with more concern, “but you should inform your mate.” 

“I know, Madja, I just-” She paused. How would he react? He told her he wanted kids too, but like her, he thought the timing was not good with Beron in the picture. “I will. I just need to figure out how to tell him. We want kids, but I don’t think he will be happy with the timing.”

“I don’t understand,” Madja pressed. “You both want kids and yet you think he won’t be happy because of the timing? You know how hard it is to have children, there is no right time. The Cauldron and Mother have given you a child because they believe you are ready.”

“It’s not a good time,” she sighed, bracing for the scolding. Madja stared expectantly for her to continue.

“Autumn is changing,” Lyra said carefully. “With these upcoming changes, a child, our child, would be faced with dangers and threats of being the child of an heir.”

“Did you forget you are a child of a former High Lord?” Madja stated, “Both you and Eris know what it is like to have a target on your back. Because of that, you two will be able to keep this child safe. I do not know Eris well, but I’m sure he will be thrilled if you tell him.” 

Lyra nods and looks down at her belly. It was still too early to show, but she already felt so much love for the child. She placed a hand on her belly, a small promise to keep this child safe and far from what her and Eris had to face in the next few years, “Thank you, Madja, for everything.”

Madja squeezes her shoulder and hands her a tonic. “Take this every morning, my dear. It should help with the sickness. Eat well. You are eating for two now. Write to me and stop by the next time you and your mate sneak back here again. And bring him with you! I want to make sure he is well too.”

Lyra rose from the table and stepped back into the hall. She glamoured her scent, she didn’t know how she hadn’t caught the sweet scent before but she made sure no one would now. Not until she and Eris were ready. 

Lyra stared at her reflection in a mirror on the wall and fixed her face to a cocky smirk. Coldness crept into her eyes and she released the damper on her powers. She needed to play the role of Rhys’s sister and Eris’s wife, no sign of the news she just received could be on her face. 

With a flick of her hand the grand doors flew open with a loud bang and the court froze. Someone flinched as she moved through the crowd to where her husband was now arguing with her brother. She snaked an arm around her husband, all tenseness faded as he relaxed into her side. His nostrils flared and he frowned but fixed his expression to be more smug as Rhys glared at Eris.

“Lyra,” Feyre greeted with a look of amusement and shared knowledge as she watched the tension leave Eris. Typical mates her eyes seemed to say, “it is so good to see you.” 

Lyra gave her a genuine smile, “You as well, High Lady.”

“And what about me?” A familiar teasing voice asked from the right. Lyra squealed as she saw her best friend practically glowing. 

“Kristen! And Maya!” she gasped as Maya moved from behind Kristen. Lyra released Eris and pulled the females in, hugging them so tightly. 

“We have an audience,” Amren warned. Kristen released Lyra and glared her golden eyes at a group of court members who watched and they all scattered.  Lyra laughed. 

“We have a lot to talk about,” Lyra said seriously, both with her two oldest friends and with her family.

“The meeting room is ready,” Az said, his shadows moving back to him with the report.

Rhys rose seriousness on his face as he took Feyre’s hand and led her and the rest of the circle out. Lyra, Kristen, Maya and Neka followed arm in arm and Eris flanked the back. Kristen shared her stories of summer on the walk and how the High Lord was indeed a perfect match for her. Maya updated them on her Tonni. Then Kristen asked about Lyra’s hand and the bruises. She flinched and Kristen’s eyes darkened. The circle all stiffened at the question and Lyra heard Eris suck in a breath. They entered the meeting room and everyone waited for an answer. 

“To start,” Lyra said, moving to stand near Eris as if to shield him from the room of warriors. “Eris did not do this.” 

Rhys studied her, a claw scraping her shield asking for permission. She didn’t want him in though not with the latest news. Eris needed to hear the news first. “Beron did.”

“I’ll fucking kill him,” Cassian said his siphons glowing. The rest in the room agreed.

“Get in line,” Eris said darkly.

“And why the fuck is he still breathing?” Kristen demanded. 

“Because he has allied himself with a common problem,” Lyra said for her mate. Eris shot her a look but she ignored him. “Let’s talk first before scolding him.” She gestured to everyone to sit. But no one sat down. “Sit!” She ordered, she may not be a high lady but she was a former one’s daughter, she knew how to command a room. This time everyone followed brows high on everyone. 

“What do you mean by common problem,” Rhys asked.

“The sorcerer,” she said quickly. 

“The one that cursed Vassa?” Maya asked, cocking her head to the side. 

“Yes,” Lyra said.

“Which means the queens are involved,” Rhys summarized. 

“Hence a common problem,” Lyra said. “Do you know anything about the sorcerer?” Lyra asked turning more to Amren, she was the oldest, the one who they all turned to for history.

“Not much that you don’t already know.” She said regretfully. Lyra nodded, breathing deeply , clenching her fists. She needed to calm down, the babe, she couldn’t stress without threatening it’s life. 

“What about the origins of Prythian, were you there for that?” Lyra asked if it was a longshot. 

“What about it?” She was unsure of what she wanted. 

“There was a piece I stumbled on and it had the Carver, Weaver and Sorcerer. I just thought they might be a part of it.”

“The Carver said they fell through before Prythian,” Feyre said, looking to Cassian to confirm and he agreed. Lyra forgot about their meeting.

“I need a meeting with Vassa,” Lyra decided, “if anyone would have information it would be her. Would Lucien be able to set it up?” 

Feyre looked at Rhys. They held a silent conversation, Lyra caught as stars winked out of Rhys’s eyes and he tensed. They were arguing. Everyone watched silently and Feyre frowned. Maya cleared her throat, “If it helps, I have news from Valhallan. A contact who would like to stay anonymous,” she gave Lyra a sympathetic look, “confirmed that Minda has been meeting with the Queens.” 

Eris shot Rhys a glare. Lyra turned to him confused, “Is that what you were arguing about?” 

“Beron went to meet the Queens,” Eris confirmed, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “I was requesting the Shadowsinger go and see what they are up to. Especially since the continent has been so reluctant in signing the treaty.”

“We need something to turn this before it gets to the level of Hybern,” Lyra said more to herself. Images of the war flashed her hand and almost touched her stomach but she set it in her lap. 

“Isn’t that why you are working on the Trove?” Azriel asked. He squinted his eyes. His shadows must’ve picked up on her glamor. Lyra subtly shook her head at him.

“It’s a slower process than expected. Faster than finding them but still slow,” Lyra said, trying to sound light-hearted. 

“Which is the other problem,” Eris said. “Beron is demanding she bring the Trove to him tomorrow.”

“Tell him to kiss her ass,” Kristen said. Neka stiffened and shot Eris a worried look. She caught on to why Lyra was injured. 

“Trust me,” Lyra voice hoarse and she winced she needed to be strong not scared, “I did. He was not a fan of that response or any of my other responses.”

Anger filled the room. Every occupant including her mate looked furious. 

“So we need to give him something by tomorrow,” Lyra said. She nervously tapped the table. “Part of me wants to give him the rings because he won’t be able to use the trove but if he goes straight to the sorcerer…” she didn’t want to think about what would happen.

“Not an option,” Rhys said.

“Fakes,” Mor proposed. “You made them look like your dad’s ring, right? Why not give him fakes?” 

“Same thing, if he goes to the sorcerer immediately. He’ll know.” Lyra argued.

“But the sorcerer might make Eris High Lord early,” Kristen said grinning. 

“Or demand he drag me to wherever he lives,” Lyra points out, “I love my wings but becoming a phoenix or another bird is not on my to-do list.”

“Kill Beron,” Neka whispers. Lyra looks at her friend. She knew what it was like being stuck there. Neka had been stuck in a relationship so similar to the Lady of Autumn, her response wasn’t unexpected. 

“He’s not ready,” Lyra said, her tone unintentionally harsh. She didn’t mean it but she couldn’t watch him try to kill Beron. If he died she would be alone, with a baby. She wouldn’t bear it. “More allies are needed for him to ascend. Beron’s circle is large and elaborate. Even if he died, the transition may not go well.” 

Eris looked at her with disbelief. He seemed to underestimate her knowledge of the court's politics. “She’s right,” Eris agreed. “I have turned a lot of the court but Beron’s allies run deep. And now he is recruiting outside of Prythian.”

“Because he realized the allies Lyra brought with her,” Kristen noted.

“Correct,” Eris said solemnly, “she is a blessing but Beron realized that the blessing has opened the opportunity to fight back.”

“Leave her here,” Feyre suggested.

“No,” Lyra and Eris both said.

“Okay not an option,” Feyre raised her hands in surrender. 

“You need to give him something,” Rhys said, circling back. “The Princes?” 

“What? Set them loose?” Lyra asked.

“I’m sure Thanatos would love that. And Apppollion is the Star Eater,” Kristen smirked.

Maya and Lyra cringed. He had never elaborated on his title, not that she minded.  Lyra still didn’t like envisioning how exactly he had eaten a star. 

“No,” Rhys said and sipped his drink, “have them give you fakes or teach you to make fakes.”

“We have less than 24 hours,” Eris pointed out.

“That’s the last resort,” Rhys said sympathetically. “My court is open for you Lyra, you know that. If it looks like it is taking a turn for the worse, get out. Promise me this,” he said pleading. The shared bargain between Lyra and Rhys burned. “I swore to protect you please come here if it is growing dangerous.” 

“I can’t leave him,” Lyra said, her voice growing smaller. If she admitted, him wasn’t just Eris, it was the hounds, his brothers, his mother, and Ember they were all a part of that. She couldn’t leave all of them. “Being mated, you know that.”

Eris took her hand in her lap and squeezed it. “If it comes down to it, I will send her here.” Eris said to Rhys. “She’ll hate me but I swore to protect her too and she is safer here.”

Lyra glared at her mate, he ignored her. “We will give the fakes a try.” He said, “it’s the best we can do at this point.”

Rhys nodded solemnly as he silently agreed with Eris. 

Lyra tuned out the rest of the conversation, she was going to try to deceive the sorcerer, it would either work and she would live for however long it took for Beron to deliver the rings to him or Beron would kill her right then. She would not go back to NIght without her Autumn family and mate. No she would have to, it was not just her who would be protected. But Beron would kill Eris for letting her leave. Fuck! This was hurting her head. 

Sweat now covered her face and a wave of nausea the tonic must’ve worn off as she abruptly turned and hurled into an ancient vase that looked very important. “Sorry,” she groaned out as Mor rubbed her back. Eris stood beside her holding her hair back.

“Don’t be,” Mor laughed. “This is one of Keir’s.”

Lyra laughed back. “He’s going to have steam coming out of his ears when he sees it.” Her lips curved.

“By the Cauldron, Ly” Kristen grimaced, “you should be resting with a concussion.” 

“I will in a bit,” Lyra said she waved her hand dismissively. “After I duplicate the rings and,” she hands Feyre the rings, “here, I’ll come back for them after Beorn collects the fakes.” 

“I’m in no hurry,” Feyre said, “They will be sitting far from Rhys. Though he says they don’t talk to him.” 

“He’s not as cool as me,” Lyra smirked. Rhys rolled his eyes.

“Or they know I don’t need more tools to be a nightmare,” He shot back. Lyra laughed.

“Oh not, it’s because Lord Nightmare just doesn’t have as good of a ring to it.”  Azriel chimed in.

Cassian howled with laughter, “Rhysand, Lord Nightmare. More like Lord Prick,” the room burst into laughter. Shifting the tone of the room.

Lyra's cheeks hurt from laughing so much and then she frowned again, remembering one more thing. “Rhys,” she said and he looked at her expectantly. “I need you to help me practice my mental shields again.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, confused. Eris shifted uncomfortably. “Your shields were holding in the throne room.”

“I couldn’t get Koschei out,” she said. 

Azriel looked at her with his hazel eyes worried crossing his face. 

“He tore through my memories and he wouldn’t budge with every push. It was like what our father had done.” She said and hesitantly dropped a shield showing Koschei in her mind tearing through memories. Rhys showed the others and fear crossed their faces. 

“Fuck,” Cassian swore.

“Will it be enough building up yours shields? You and Rhys are the strongest deamatis how do we defend if he can break through your minds?” Kristen asked nervously looking between Rhys and Lyra. 

She was right and Eris had asked her that yesterday too. She still had no answer. “I don’t know this is still new to me.” Lyra said, “And very humbling.”

Rhys huffed, “what he did was not humbling. Your shields were lowered because you thought there was no threat. Now you know better.” 

“He resisted her pushing him out Rhys,” Cassian pointed out. 

“So that’s what we’ll work on,” Rhys told Lyra. “Your shields are strong. Keep them up. We’ll train each other to push each other out. We should’ve kept up our training way before this.”

“We were busy,” Lyra excused her brother.  She could see the guilt on his face. 

“On a lighter note,” Kristen said, trying to change the topic. Lyra half listened as she watched her brother. He was already trying to practice as his claw went into her shield. She opened a little path, shutting it quickly for him. He ran through her corridors as she tried to catch him and shove him out. Her breath began to become labored and he stopped resisting. His violet eyes flashed worry as he looked at her. 

‘I’m fine,’ she reassured me. She shoved him again and he barely budged. Rhys found a corridor of memories and pulled through them as she shoved at him. He was looking at one of him and her. He was bloody from the bloodrite. He picked her up and swung her around in his arms laughing in the memory. Lyra shoved him again.  He stumbled but pulled another memory, it was him, Cas and Az with her all drunk running up and down the stairs at the House of Wind. Vomit covered them and they were all panting from running but also laughing so hard. She shoved and this time he fell back out the shield. 

“Yes!” Lyra said victoriously, startling the group. Rhys chuckled. 

“Not bad Ly-Ly,” he said cooly, “next time get me out before I start rummaging. I would hate to see something that would make me want to burn my eyes.”

“Don’t go digging for it then,” she said. Eris gave her a look and she giggled. 

“My turn,” Rhys said and nodded. Mor started chatting with the former Valkyries as Eris and Feyre watched their mates with interest and concern. 

Lyra slipped through Rhys’s shield as he snapped it shut. ‘God’s this place is messy,’ she said as she looked around his mind. Files upon files of memories filled it stacked endlessly. There was a whole hall dedicated to Feyre. Seven Hels.

‘Don’t judge my mind,’ Rhys countered with amusement in his tone. A force tried to shove her out but she planted her feet into the floor of his mind. 

‘Gotta do better than that,’ she teased. Lyra headed toward a stack labeled Feyre. ‘Oh gods,” she scrunched her nose in disgust, turning away. Another stack of Feyre. ‘Rhysie, this is a bit obsessive.’ 

He chuckled. ‘It’s a defense,’ he explained. ‘You won’t rummage through it. Try it in your head next time.’ 

‘You got a point, I am terrified to open anything with Feyre in case it shows way too much. I’ll make sure to fill mine with endless files of Eris,’ she said.

She felt him shove her and she fell through the shield. “Damn it,” she swore and Rhys laughed. “That actually was smart. But what would I use to keep Koschei distracted?”

Feyre looked at Rhys. His eyes glittered with pride, “I shoved her in the corridor of my mind dedicated to you, Feyre, darling.”

“You have a whole corridor of Feyre? That’s  romantically creepy,” Neka said, making everyone laugh.

Eris POV:

“We should get going,” Eris whispered to Lyra as she giggled at Neka and Rhys going back and forth. He wanted to stab a dagger through his heart for saying it. Lyra looked so happy and at peace. All worries forgotten and with those four words her smile fell and the brightness in her eyes faded. She nodded and hugged her family. She held Rhys the longest squeezing tightly. He whispered something to her and she nodded before squeezing him in a hug once more. 

She took Eris’s hand and he winnowed them into the clearing with the Aspen Trees. 

Lyra POV:

They arrived in the clearing and often disappeared when they needed distance from the Forest House. Cheddar and grumpy Fern lay in the clearing snuggled together, waiting for their masters to reappear. The two smoke hounds wagged their tails at the sight of them. Cheddar approached Lyra first and nudged her belly; she knew even without the glamour. Her knowing eyes seemed to communicate her excitement for the future mother.

Eris was distracted greeting Fern he cutely patted the grumpy hounds head and his voice went up in octave as he teased the grumpy hound for cuddling with Cheddar. Lyra took the opportunity of Eris being distracted and  knelt patting Cheddar’s fuzzy head. “Don’t blow the surprise,” she whispered to the hound.  Cheddar responded by licking Lyra in the face. Lyra giggled and Eris strode over with Fern who greeted Lyra and eyed her like Cheddar had. The female hound growled and Fern looked away. Eris raised a brow but didn’t comment as he lead them back to the House. 

After returning the hounds to the kennel and retrieving Smokey, Lyra’s first smoke hound, gifted by Eris, they strode back into the Forest House. It was dark and silent, with only a few fae lights illuminating the halls. Lyra couldn’t help but keep glancing at her mate; his emotions flooded the bond. She knew it was unintentional because of how the night had gone. In the end Rhys had agreed to set up a meeting with Vassa but that was the only real success in the meeting, there was still so much they needed done. Tomorrow they would face his father. His jaw was clenched so tightly he might grind through his teeth, and his hands were clenched in fists with just as much for. She couldn’t tell if the intense heat she was feeling was from Eris or possibly the pregnancy. 

Lyra carefully took one of his clenched fists and gently pulled each finger out of the fist. She sent gentle and calming emotions down the bond and tugged twice on the bond. He turned to look at her as they continued moving to their room. She saw his eyes soften as she gave him a soft smile. 

“It’s going to be okay,” she reassured him as they strode into their room. She reassured herself, ‘We are going to be okay. Me, Eris, and this babe.’

Eris went to their small bar, poured him a good helping of whiskey, and looked to Lyra to ask if she wanted some. She shook her head and strode to their bedroom in the suite and to the vanity.

Lyra sighed as she worked on removing the pins from her hair. Smokey laid at her feet, now almost a full-grown hound. He had not grown into his paws yet, and his ears were still large for his head a promising sign he might be one of the larger hounds if not the largest. Eris now paced in their bedroom, running his hand through his hair, still short from their wedding and he still had stubble that was forming into a beard. It had only been four months since they had married. Four months of connection and intimacy. It should not have surprised Lyra that she was pregnant, and yet she still was. 

“Eris,” Lyra said exasperated, “stop pacing before you burn a hole in the floor.”

He stopped and looked at his mate with annoyance. “Promise me, Lyra.” 

“I can’t. We’ve made too many promises,” she said. “We want to fight him. We will but I will not leave you here.” It was selfish and not fair for the babe but what if they won? What if this was the move to shut all this shit down?

“No,” he argued, “please, Lyra.” 

“Eris, please don’t make me,” she said back, “please don’t make me. I can’t live knowing you are here or dead. It’s cruel to ask me to leave and live without you. You tied your life to my life and it goes the same way bargain or not. I won’t live without you.” Tears filled her eyes and Smokey laid his head in her lap and whimpered. She patted his head. 

“Your brother won’t help me yet,” Eris said and Lyra was surprised. “That's what we were arguing about. Mainly about sending Azriel to the continent to investigate but I asked for assistance in killing my father earlier than the date we had set.”

“He will help you,” Lyra said gently and rose to cup his face and planted a kiss to his tense face. ““He will get Az to look into it; he just can’t resist seeing you beg for it first,” she added and smirked, “must be a family trait because I like having you beg too.” 

All tension left Eris’s face and he snorted. His hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, “will I be begging tonight?” He asked his voice smooth as silk and dangerously low. He kissed the tears from her cheeks. 

“Our fur child is watching,” she replied as he tried to press another kiss to her lips, “he doesn’t deserve to witness this.” He kissed her deeply ignoring the comment. His hands moved up to the zipper, tugging it down. 

“He is hardly a child now,” Eris argued, and Smokey rose, whining and pawing at Eris’s leg. He scowled at the hound but patted the hounds head. “And if he is disturbed by me properly loving my wife, he can spend the night in the kennel. Maybe then I can get more of the bed to sleep on.”

Lyra chuckled at the sight of Eris from a fuming fireling to a sweet dog lover at the sight of the smoke hound. All stress disappears for a moment.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, still petting Smokey. “I know you haven’t been feeling well.”

“I'm better today,” Lyra lied. She didn’t know how to tell him. “I think it was just a stomach bug. Madja seemed to agree.”

“Hmm, perhaps. Do you want to bathe tonight?” 

“Is that your subtle way of telling me I stink?” She asked the brow raised in the challenge.

“No, of course not,” he chuckled. “Although I do miss that perfume you were wearing. It smelled so sweet.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion but then she relaxed. “I’m glad you like it, it might become a new favorite for a while. I'll bathe tomorrow. It was a long day, and I am tired.” Lyra said, slipping her dress off and grabbing a shirt and shorts to sleep in. She felt Eris’s hungry gaze on her as she slipped on the clothing. She slid into the bed and patted Eris’s side as a signal to hurry so she could cuddle with him. Eris quickly slipped off his clothes, nearly falling over when he tried to remove his pants and shoes at once. Lyra laughed as she watched him put on sleeping pants before joining Lyra in bed. He leaned toward her to kiss but was blocked by the giant adolescent smoke hound who jumped in the middle.

“Absolutely not!” Eris growled, trying to shove the hound off the bed. Lyra laughed as the hound pushed further up the bed and flopped down, his legs kicked out at Eris as if he were trying to kick Eris out of the bed. “Every night,” Eris pouted, “I just want to sleep with my mate. Get to the foot of the bed, or I will banish you to the kennels.” 

Smokey growled at Eris and snarled back at the hound. “Quit it, you two!” Lyra laughed, “Smokey down.” 

The hound hurried down to the foot of the bed, eying Eris with annoyance, and Eris smiled in victory. Lyra slid closer to Eris, pressing her chest to his. “I hope you are not like this when our children try to sleep between us.” She said quietly. She didn’t mean to say it out loud, but it slipped. Eris hummed, his lips pressed to the top of her head and mumbled that he wouldn’t. 

“I just want to enjoy my Light’s undivided attention,” he said, kissing her before pulling her onto his body so that she was straddling him. “How tired are you?” He asked, a flirtatious grin on his face. Lyra mirrored his grin and kissed him with more hunger and need. That night, Smokey was pushed into the living room of their suite.

[artethyst]

Happy Gingerfucker announcement day! Eris Week is over, it’s time to celebrate his offspring that I’ve unexpectedly created.

For this week, I’ll be preplanning some fics as well as some drabbles/short fics! If you have any fun little requests, drop them into my inbox (but be sure to write that they’re a request otherwise I’ll assume it’s my gingerfucker anons being fun).

The whole week will be filled with lots of fun from our favorite family (as well as much requested fics 😉). I’m still finalizing some themes for the week, but I wanted to have fun and give back love to all those who have showed me so much of it 🥹

[artethyst]

Day 7: Free Day

First Words - Eris Vanserra x OC!Lyra + Baby Nova

@erisweekofficial

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

A/N: Wow! Can't believe it's the last day of Eris Week! I had so much fun and cannot wait to catch up on all the new Eris content! This is a piece with my OC!Lyra. It can be read as a standalone and if you enjoy this piece I have many more fluffy pieces featuring Nova in it an a series with Eris and OC!Lyra here

“Can you say papa? Pa pa?” Eris said holding his almost-year-old son, Nova. He was the perfect spitting image of Eris, minus his violet eyes and wings which he had inherited from Lyra. Sweet little Nova stared at Eris with his big violet eyes as if he was taking in hte words Eris had just said. His little brows scrunched and his nose wrinkled. Eris thought he was trying to concentrate. “Go on, Nova, Pa pa.” Eris encouraged.

A rumble came from his lap and Nova’s face relaxed. Eris frowned. He heard an amused laugh from behind him, Bran, one of his younger brothers.

“You are still trying to get him to say papa?” Bran laughed again his matching amber eyes twinkling with amusement. 

“He’s going to say papa,” Eris defended trying to not smell whatever his son had released. He was going to have to change him before Lyra came to get him. It was a rare day when Eris had his morning free so he could let Lyra sleep in a bit, now that Nova mostly ate baby food and didn’t need to be by her side at all times. 

“Sure he will,” Bran said sitting beside him on the couch and waving at Nova. Nova giggled in response his first few teeth showing.  Bran laughed and then scrunched his nose. “By the cauldron, how can something so cute release such a foul odor?”

Nova giggled again. 

“Oh is that funny?” Bran cooed pinching Nova’s cheek lightly. “ Can you say Bran? I’ll even settle for Ban,” he encouraged. 

Nova blinked at him. 

A soft yawn came from Eris's bedroom and he looked behind him to see Lyra leaning on the door. 

“Mama!” Nova said excitedly. Eris whipped his head back and looked at his son in disbelief. 

“Did he just say?” Eris gasped a smile on his face.

“Mama!” Nova repeated his little voice filled with so much excitement. 

“That’s right,” Lyra said stepping closer to the couch. She bent down kissing Eris’s cheek and then kissing Nova’s head. “Are you having a good morning?”

Nova gave her a toothy grin, “mama!”

“You’re taking this better than I thought you would,” Bran commented. 

“I’m fine with his first word being mama as long as it isn’t Ban,” Eris replied.

Lyra chuckled, “who’s this?” She pointed to Eris.

“Mama!” Nova answered. Eris frowned.

“Nevermind,” Eris grumbled.

“No, it’s fitting! You were such a mother hen during the pregnancy,” Lyra teased. 

“Were?” Bran questioned, “he still is.”

“Why are you here again?” Eris asked his brother.

“I needed my daily dose of Nova,” Bran said making silly faces at Nova. He responded by grabbing at Bran’s face. “He wasn’t at breakfast so I figured I’d come here first before heading out for my duties.”

“Sorry Bran, it was a long night.” Lyra said with a sleepy smile. 

“Long cause of Nova or cause of Eris keeping you up?” Bran smirked. 

“Out!” Eris growled but Lyra just laughed. Bran hurried out of the room.

Lyra dropped down into Bran’s spot and leaned her head on Eris’s shoulder. Nova was now crawling between the two of them and babbling along, his wings moving every now and then. 

“Dada will probably be next,” Lyra said reassuringly her hand squeezing his knee, “it’s just cause he’s a mama’s boy. Just like his dada.”

“Mama,” Nova said as he sat in the small gap between them. He looked up eying both of them expectantly.

“Yep, Mama,” Eris encouraged. “Who am I?”

“Da,” Nova said and mumbled some other gibberish.

Eris’s eyes widened, excitement filling them, “Da, he said Da!”

“He sure did,” Lyra laughed, “though he also mumble some other gibberish.”

“Who am I Nova?” Eris asked again. 

Nova stared for a moment. Brows furrowing again. Eris remembered he needed to be changed.

“Oh gods,” Eris groaned preparing.

“Dada,” Nova said as if trying it out, “dadadada dada dada.”

He repeated a toothy grin on his face. Eris cheered and Lyra laughed. Eris scooped up his mini me and cheered. “That’s right! I’m dada!” 

“Dada!” Nova giggled.

“Wait till Bran hears!” Eris grinned. 

It was now dinner time and Eris had been waiting to brag all day. He was so proud of his son. Two words in one day! 

Eris made sure to arrive extra early to the dinner table. Lyra and Nova would meet him here because he was coming from meetings. Hugo arrived first brows raised.

“Are you feeling well?” Hue asked. Eying Eris skeptically. 

“I am, I got news,” Eris grinned.

“Lyra’s pregnant?” Hugo asked.

“What? No,” Eris said. At least she didn’t say anything about being pregnant.

Cole and Bran arrived next and Eris smirked at Bran.

“Hey Mama,” Bran teased.

Cole snorted and Hue raised a brow. 

“Nova got his first word.” Bran explained to Hue as the Lady of Autumn arrived. Eris hoped Lyra and Nova would show up before Beron. That way he could gloat. 

His mother gave him a knowing look. Nova no doubt showcased his two words in tea today.

“Actually he has two words,” Eris corrected. 

“Really?” Bran asked, “Ban right.”

“No,” Eris said as the door opened revealing his wife and son who ran to him on wobbly legs.

“Dada!” Nova squealed as Eris scooped him up, beaming with pride.

[artethyst]

Worms, worms, worms!

Pairing: Modern!Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1.2k | warnings: none

Summary: Eris's son Atlas is finally asking the important questions about life and how far his dad’s love extends

Author’s note: and that’s a wrap on @erisweekofficial for me!!! Had to end it with this idea from @pit-and-the-pen. I had a lot of fun. I posted 32.7k worth of words about this ginger man who won’t leave me alone (and probably have 10k worth of words sitting in my drafts that I didn’t finish).

It had been raining for three days in Autumn. Eris woke up to a small body tackling him, giggles filling his ears as a tiny but loud voice screamed in his ear, “worms!”

Eris quickly clamped a hand over the toddler’s mouth, looking over to find his mate still snoring lightly. He looked back at his son, hand still clamped to his mouth but he felt the grin beneath it.

“Let me get dressed and I’ll find you in your room.”

That was not a suitable answer for Atlas, who was currently in a phase where being away from either of his parents was considered cruel and unusual punishment. His little lip wobbled, tears quickly springing to his eyes before Eris realized his error.

“You can stay as I dress if you are quiet and do not disturb your mother.”

His whispered words were stern, but Atlas nodded and Eris removed his hand from the toddler’s mouth. He walked backwards, watching Atlas cuddle up in his spot on the bed, his little body wanting to cuddle up to his mother.

Unfortunately for Atlas, you had spent the night throwing up, and in a hormonal fit banned Eris from the bathroom. He couldn’t decide what was worse - comforting you while having to watch you vomit or having to listen to you throw up in the comfort of his bed.

The two of you were still trying to figure out when to tell Atlas his reign as the youngest Vanserra was coming to an end, but there was still time before you began showing. You hardly showed at all while pregnant with Atlas - maybe Eris would be lucky and not have to tell Atlas until the babe arrived and then his son would be so enamored with the thing he wouldn’t have time to be upset. Atlas loved his cousin, Nyx, but there was no telling how he’d respond to another child around permanently.

Eris pushed away his doubts and scooped Atlas into his arms. He carried him through the door and down the hall back into Atlas’s room before setting him down on his bed. The miniature version of himself looked up at him, a tiny furrow in his brow.

“Worms are outside, Dada.”

“Yes, but if you want to find worms, you have to dress for worms, not wear your pajamas.”

Eris moved through the drawers, finding clothes for Atlas to wear, as well as his raincoat and mud boots. It took several minutes of wrangling and holding him down to get his son dressed, but he looked adorable in the bright yellow raincoat. The hood of it even had tiny eyes and a bill sewn into it, courtesy of his Aunt Elain. 

The day Atlas grew out of loving ducks would be a very sad day for Prythian. 

The two walked down the hall, or at least they attempted to. Atlas’s boots made him waddle ever so slightly when he got too fast, which was very often as they got closer and closer to being outside. They went to the back of the house, Atlas’s boots squelching with each step in the wet ground. Beyond the house, just before the trees, was a clearing that Atlas has figured out is the perfect spot to go hunting for worms. The land was full of mud - occasional hoof marks and carriage tracks, but the air smelled of fresh rain and dirt.

Eris turned his head just in time to hear a plop as he watched Atlas sit in the largest puddle he could find, sticking his tiny fingers into the mud, squishing the mud in his fist as he giggled in happiness. Eris hiked up his pants before crouching down next Atlas, balancing on his heels as he helped Atlas dig in the dirt. A short silence overtook the pair interrupted only by a soft squeal and wet dirt being flung into the air, thankfully in the direction away from Eris. 

“Atlas.” Eris’s voice was stern, a sheepish look on his son’s face. “We’ve talked about this.”

“No throwing dirt.”

Atlas was an easily excited child. He loved all things in nature and oftentimes was not wholly aware of his surroundings, leading to several people having what is now commonly known as ‘Atlas dirt incidents’. Whenever they would complain to Eris, he would look down his nose at them and ask, “why were you standing so close to a boy playing in the mud?”

Eris continued helping Atlas dig through the mud, his soft squeals of excitement reminding him of Clover’s new litter of pups that happened to coincide with this newest babe. The pup will be six months older than this new addition, plenty of time for Eris to train them a good bit. 

Atlas’s own dog, Pumpkin, had remained inside - usually as rambunctious as Atlas, it was a funny sight how the rain caused him to cease all interest in expending any energy. He was likely sprawled across Atlas’s bed, the wetness in the air outside keeping him asleep.

Atlas's small hand had formed a fist in the mud, the ends of a few worms wriggling, attempting to escape his clutches. Eris lightly grabbed his son’s hand, trying to get him to relax his grasp. He often got so excited over the worms he found, he would inadvertently squeeze them to death. The tears that formed from that seemed to last for a week, his son’s voice trembling as he asked over and over again if he was getting banished to Illyria for being a worm slayer.

It would be funny if Eris didn’t have to be the one consoling Atlas.

“You love me, right Dada?”

“More than you know.”

Eris held onto a few of the worms so his son could look at each worm individually. As if he were inspecting them, his eyes assessed each worm with intense focus, before he would proudly proclaim the worm’s name. Last time they did this, Atlas named seven worms - three were named Pumpkin, two were named Mama, and two were named Dada. Despite his many talents, Atlas wasn’t very creative with worm names.

“What if I was a worm?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue, the resolute what a silly question, why would you be a worm? But Atlas’s big eyes looked up at him, dulling his sharp tongue. He kept Atlas’s gaze, trying to soften his own and smiled.

“Very much.”

Atlas would tell you later on about this and you would spend all week teasing Eris by asking, “would you love me if I were a tea kettle?” and “what if I were a cow, hmm?” You would tease, despite the fact that Eris was sure you had asked him your own fair share of silly questions. 

That’s okay. He’d take the teasing. He’d carry you and Atlas around in his pockets, providing fresh dirt every day if he had to. He’d do anything to make the two of you happy, including indulging his toddler’s questions about life as a worm.

He would love a worm if it would spare his son a moment of heartache.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

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