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goldenmagnolias · 2 days

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Spirit Meets the Bones - XVII

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

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

Find it all here.

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

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

Mine.

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

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

His. She was his and he was hers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A prince that is a pain in the ass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Lucien was very, very amused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had the strongest urge to vomit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Desperately trying not to pounce on his wife.

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

His mate.

Everything suddenly made so much sense.

And simultaneously, everything just got so much worse.

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

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

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

Having a mate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Iris — wait —”

“— I need to clean it and then —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if it scared the living shit out of her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You and Lady Enya share similar thoughts.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The word mine flashed through her mind.

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

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

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Naturally. Talking about him is nauseating.”

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

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

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

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goldenmagnolias · 3 days

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i have a headcanon that when Eris is filled with murderous rage, it gets REALLY cold in whatever room he is in bc all the warmth and heat is leeched from his general vicinity and he takes it for himself

#eris vanserra #acotar headcanons

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goldenmagnolias · 3 days

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What Bloomed in the Darkgarden

The Courtyard Statue

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goldenmagnolias · 3 days

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WBITDG CHAPTER IS HERE 👏👏✨✨

What Bloomed in the Darkgarden

Chapter 35

“Promise we’ll make it through,” Elain whispered, voice shaking now. “That war won’t take this from us.”

Azriel looked to her, an unbreakable oath branded into his eyes. “What war?” he whispered into the lost hush of dusk.

He spoke the words as if they would take them to his grave. Elain branded them onto her heart as if she’d be buried there with him.

#fic: what bloomed in the darkgarden #by ehoney/bloomingdarkgarden #elain x azriel

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goldenmagnolias · 3 days

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Sea of Change: Part Three

Pairing: Rhys x female!Reader

Wordcount: 5,264

Series Masterlist

The shining sea of Summer is nothing like the deep, dark waters that flood the harbor in Velaris. An endless expanse of turquoise tipped in seafoam so white it rivals the sparkling, sandy beaches lining the coast. The moment we step out onto the landing platform, I take in the looming palace crafted of warm, sandy stone and the half-moon bay it rises from with a shaky, nervous giggle on my lips. The city sprawls around and below us, an array of buildings crafted of stone and shells and coral, with panes of mother of pearl that shine brilliantly in the buttery morning sunlight.

The night-kissed breeze that blew us into Adriata fades with a final burst of sea salt and citrus. The tendrils of vines clinging to the castle’s pillars sway in the breeze, laden with sweetly scented morning glories. A few of their white petals fall free to swirl around our feet. My bottle blue trousers and the embroidered hem of my gauzy tunic rustle in the wind. The feeling of the fine silk on my skin serves as a reminder that I am out of my element. I can’t bring myself to fear it, though. Not in a place so lovely as this.

“Wolves only, girl,” Amren hisses in my ear, a reminder of the briefing she’d given me over breakfast just two days prior. “No room for trembling fawns today.”

Rhysand’s head tilts ever so slightly in our direction as his sun-kissed brown hand smooths down the front of his jacket. The fabric seems to eat up the light here, his presence a dark silhouette amid the dazzling hues of Summer. Silky, dark hair tumbles over his forehead as his eyes meet mine. In spite of my best attempts to mirror his stony expression, I find myself grinning like a child.

To my surprise, he smiles back, a dimple forming in his cheek as he nudges me with his elbow. Amren tuts her disapproval, looking for all the world like a ruffled hen in her grey trousers and matching billowing top. She’s beautiful in a way that might be deemed ethereal, alluring in spite of her scowl. The wind gusts at her back and she looks like an elemental heralding an oncoming storm.

Like an omen.

For a moment, I can’t look away.

Then I feel the pull, like a wave dragging me under. A moment flashes of another day, a female dressed in lilac standing where I am now, beautiful and pale at the High Lord’s side. I can’t find my breath; it somehow feels right and so wrong and nausea flares in my stomach until the vision falls to ash. A blinding flash of white brings another: a whispering book locked away in the dark. Cold, damp air settles on my skin, but it’s no match for the icy chill seeping into the soles of my feet, suddenly bare against slick, age worn tile. I can’t get a good look at where I am, the ancient walls are dark and the only light in the room comes from the braziers lit with teal green faerie fire.

When I blink, the vision is gone, and I’m back on the landing pad with Rhys’s hand encircling my wrist.

“I’m fine,” I breathe, giving my head a little shake to clear it. I’d neglected to pack any of my scarves, not that I had any to compliment the trunk of lovely clothing Mor had presented me with for this excursion. Though it has been argued that I don’t need them, that they may even be detrimental to my magic, I can’t deny I long for the familiar comfort of them. They are a crutch I should no longer lean on. The High Lord’s hand slips from my wrist, his fingers trail over my skin as it returns to his side.

My gaze turns to the gulls swooping low over the water, diving into the waves only to return with wriggling silver fish in their bright yellow beaks. They soar beneath the various bridges connecting the castle’s island to the main lands and, through the scalloping along the bottom of the nearest bridge, I spy dry grass haphazardly peeking from beneath the bridges. What a smart place to roost. The bay is filled with ships, some like the fishing and merchant vessels that come into our own harbors, and others that seem to be delegated to ferrying people to and from the island portion of the city.

At the sound of a door opening, I look back at the lovely sea glass doors in time to see them swing open. A small group of people spill out onto our little balcony and a tall, white haired male steps forward, a cautious smile lighting his startling turquoise eyes. Leanly muscled with warm brown skin, he’s one of the most handsome males I’ve ever seen. My mouth goes dry and my face heats just to look at him.

“Welcome to Adriata,” he says, his voice as warm and rich as the Summer sun. I wish Yasmin were here. Naturally charming, when she wants to be, I know she’d have this male disarmed and defenseless in moments. What fun that would be to watch.

Rhys responds with a voice as dark as the oncoming night, “Good to see you again, Tarquin.”

Behind the High Lord of Summer, the five others who had accompanied him swap frowns of varying severity. Rhysand slides a hand into his pocket and uses the other to gesture to Amren, whose chin tilts slightly higher. Though it’s arguable she’s a slip of a female, she’s formidable in her own right. Her mercurial eyes narrow briefly as she catches sight of a male glaring over Tarquin’s shoulder, but the lone sign of her irritation is dismissed in a blink.

“Amren, I believe you’re acquainted with.”

True to form, she does not bow or nod or show an iota of subservience to this male in spite of his station. Amren is every bit the wolf she instructed me to be as she looks him over with a vicious smile on her red lips. I had told her then that I would try, but now as I watch her deliver a sly compliment on his appearance, I don’t think I don’t think I have it in me. She and Rhys have mastered the art of cold detachment, even now there is something calculating about my High Lord’s stare as he sizes up the group before us.

I am none of those things. I don’t think I can even slip into it as a performer might a mask. I try to reach for those feelings, but they do not come. A warm breeze dances over my skin and I get the notion that, perhaps, this may be to my benefit. I cannot play the part of someone else, but I can be wholly myself. When I hear Rhys say my name, introducing me, I take an uncertain step forward off the dais. The guards posted at either side of the door shift, their hands on their weapons, but I merely offer the brightest smile I can muster and reach out a hand.

The High Lord of Summer does not look down his nose at me, as I might have expected him to. And he does not turn away. To my surprise, he waves a hand at the guards to settle before he takes my own in both of his and shakes it.

“You have the loveliest home I’ve ever seen,” I tell him earnestly, “thank you for having me.”

“Wait until you see the rest of it,” Tarquin says, his turquoise eyes shining with delight. “I assure you, the pleasure is mine.”

Rhys clears his throat behind me, but I don’t spare a glance in his direction. He brought me for a reason, certainly more than the mere pleasure of my company. I have to figure out why. I don’t think I’ll get anywhere using his tactics, but I might by using my own. Especially if he’s looking to make allies and not enemies out of this court. Kindness can be its own sort of weapon.

The female a half-step behind Summer’s High Lord inches closer, a bemused tilt to her head as her sharp brown eyes rake over me. “We have refreshments prepared.”

“Cresseida,” Tarquin says, seeming to remember himself as he angles his body towards her. My hand remains held in one of his. “Princess of Adriata.”

I give her my sweetest smile and curtsy in a fashion that I hope is appropriate for greeting a princess. Needless to say, I’ve not had the opportunity before. The princess seems to be amused by my attempt, if not delighted, and inclines her head in kind. The rest of Tarquin’s company are introduced in short order: three advisers who oversee the city, court, and trade. The one who had been glaring at Amren is Prince Varian, Cresseida’s younger brother and captain of Tarquin’s guard. The way he’s looking at her now, a mixture of ire and intrigue, practically has her preening - if Amren can preen, that is.

“What a delightful courtier you’ve brought this time, Rhysand,” Tarquin says, casting a polite smile over my shoulder at the male behind me. “I can’t say I’m not relieved you left your general to his own devices.”

“For now, Cassian’s enthusiasm serves me best overseeing the leadership training and promoting my soldiers.” I glance over my shoulder to see Rhys shrug, his hands comfortably in his pockets as he steps down off of the platform with Amren close at his side. “In any case, she is lovelier and far better company on most occasions - unless, of course, you’re looking for a game of cards. Cassian may have her there.”

“Don’t listen to him,” I sniff, pulling my hand away so I can cross my arms over my chest. “He’s not played cards against me a day in his life.”

“Bit of a card shark, are you?” Tarquin asks, eyes dancing with amusement as he turns to lead us in.

“Not necessarily,” I admit. “But I know my way around a deck. And I don’t relish the idea of being shown up by any male on most occasions.”

The Summer lord laughs at that. I feel Rhysand close to me, and he makes no move to touch me when he moves to walk at Tarquin’s side, leaving me with his second-in-command. Amren’s gaze on the side of my head is dagger sharp and it's a fight to keep from sucking my lip between my teeth. The instructions she'd given me certainly didn't include my clumsy attempt at being charming, but I can’t help feeling this was the right move to make. Perhaps I’m not built for court games, and I may as well make the best of it while I’m here.

The path through the palace consists of shell-flecked walkways and walls lined with windows overlooking the bay and mainland or the vast, open sea. The warm breeze rattles the sea glass chandeliers hanging over countless gurgling streams and fountains of fresh water. Various courtiers and servants hurry by our little group, all of them too preoccupied to pay us any mind, but I note no lesser faeries among them. Velaris is a lovely amalgamation of High Fae and lesser faeries, all working and living together in relative harmony. Perhaps not all courts are that way? Come to think of it, I don’t even know if the rest of our court is as well blended as the city I’ve spent my life in.

I glance again at the High Lords walking ahead of me, the muted powers of sea and starlight flowing between them like pieces of a whole longing to be reunited. They speak casually of Nynsar and the flowers that will be displayed for the Day of Seeds and Flowers, and my heart twists as I think of Starfall. It’s certain to be an incredible celebration this year, I’ll need to speak with Roz about my gown. I’m not usually one to make a fuss over my dress, but it might be nice to do something a little special this year.

“There are four main cities in my territory,” Tarquin says, glancing over his shoulder at me. “We spend the last month of winter and the first spring months in Adriata–it's the finest at this time of year.”

“Right,” I murmur, internally marveling at the idea of having to move between cities instead of having a central home for your court. How do they keep it all together? Are there other palaces in the territory more lovely than this one? Surely not, a giant sandcastle would be hard to beat. “It’s beautiful.”

“Are the repairs going well?” Rhys asks, idly picking invisible lint from his sleeve. I curl my hands into fists at my side to keep from batting at his hand, hoping it might be taken as a nervous habit. How I flatter myself, thinking anyone would care enough to pay attention to my every movement.

“Most. The back half of the castle is a wreck, but the interior is finished. Our focus was on the city first, and those repairs are ongoing.”

Amarantha must have sacked this city. Guilt twists in my gut as I think of Velaris, untouched behind a shield while the residents of this beautiful city were visited by unspeakable horrors. I’m grateful we were so well protected, but the cost is not lost on me. My eyes drift to Rhys, as they so often do, and I take in his profile as he inquires about lost valuables. I hear Cresseida’s breath catch at her High Lord’s response, though it doesn’t sound as though anything truly valuable was lost, and three of their court break away to attend to other duties. Tarquin gives them a smile that doesn’t quite reach his bright, lovely eyes as he leads us into a vaulted room of white oak and green glass that overlooks the mouth of the bay and the bright, endless sea.

I hear the faint scraping of chairs behind me, the sounds of our small party being seated, but for a moment I am lost in the crystalline waters and the fluffy clouds dotting the blue, endless sky. Towards the mouth of the bay, I see a spout of vapor rise from the water and float away on the breeze. Something large and dark rises from the water and, as it sinks back beneath the waves, the realization strikes me that it must be a whale.

“Oh,” I whisper, resting my hand against the shell-flecked window frame. I squint, hoping to see the creature rise again, but it does not.

“What did you see?” the warm voice of Summer’s High Lord washes over me, pulling me back into the moment. He stands at my back, a respectable distance between us as he gazes over my shoulder, and I take a moment longer to admire his bright, ethereal eyes that shift colors with the tide.

“A whale, I think,” A flush stains my cheeks as I cross my arms once more. “I didn’t realize they’d come so close to the city.”

“Ah. That is one reason this is my favorite view. They have never been hunted in our waters, so they choose to birth their calves here each winter. They’ll be gone within the week, I’m afraid.”

“How miraculous it is that life endures beyond our machinations. Faeries and mortals may war all we like, but nature carries on regardless,” I muse, turning my back to the window. Beyond the High Lord, I can see Amren and Rhys seated at a table inlaid with mother of pearl, along with Prince Varian and Princess Cresseida. Servants heap the plates before them with fresh, glistening fruits, shellfish, and lush, leafy greens while clear, crystal goblets are filled with a yellow wine of some sort. Amren leans in to whisper something to Rhys, whose eyes flit between the princess across from him and me. There is an open chair next to him that I can only assume is meant for me.

“Indeed. I find the consistency reassuring. Perhaps our lands have not been so thoroughly corrupted by Amarantha’s reign that they, too, may recover after all.”

“May we all have such resilience.” I incline my head in a sort of bow that I hope is appropriately deferential and promptly step around the High Lord to take up the empty chair at my own High Lord’s side. Tarquin takes his seat at the head of the table and I raise my glass to my lips. The wine is syrupy and bright, tasting of mangoes and pineapple. I take a bite of the red, fleshy fruit on my plate, delighting at the way its light, sweet juice bursts over my tongue.

“And what is it you do for Rhysand?” Tarquin asks, and my eyes dart between him and the High Lord at my side before I shrug.

“I’m a proprietor of books, my lord.” It is truth enough without revealing my own gifts, but a curious look flits across his otherwise placid face as he takes me in. “And I occasionally dispense good advice.”

“I did say she was delightful company,” Rhys drawls. His nose twitches as he finally sips his own wine, and I watch Prince Varian’s eyes narrow slightly. “And she has a way of seeing things others often miss. I find such qualities valuable, particularly in times such as these.”

“How has your own court fared during reconstruction, Rhysand?” The question lacks warmth, like a cautious testing of waters rather than a friendly inquiry, but it's no less sincere. I get the feeling the Summer lord feels as out of his depth with my High Lord as I do in this room, though he's better at hiding it than I am. A twinge of guilt shoots through me as I realize I do not often inquire about cities or villages beyond the walls of Velaris, though I know Rhys frequently meets with the rural lords who oversee those lands as part of his own duties. I’d like to think it’s kind of Tarquin to inquire, but perhaps it’s merely a tactic to root out weakness.

“Our own losses were not so extensive, though I am concerned about the security of our borders.”

“I’d heard rumors of a thwarted attack on a temple in the north. Was it one of yours?”

“I answered a call for aid.” Varian’s sharp gaze returns to my High Lord, who seems to pay him no mind. “Hybern seemed to be looking for something they did not find.”

“Are they a credible threat?”

“It would be foolish to assume otherwise. Amarantha was once one of Hybern’s favored pets. Though her sacking of Prythian may not have been at her king’s behest, he certainly didn’t raise a finger to stop it. With her out of the way, he might seek to exploit our vulnerabilities. I am not keen to see that happen, and I don’t expect you are, either.”

“No,” Tarquin murmurs, briefly turning his gaze to the sea. “Do you believe the whispers are true, that they are readying for war?”

“Oh, I believe they are. They may not have found what they sought at that temple, but that does not mean they have ceased looking for it. I believe their next strike is an inevitability we must be prepared for.”

“How?” Cresseida asks, leveling a complicated look at Tarquin before she turns her gaze upon Rhys at my side. “We are still piecing ourselves together, what resources do we have to withstand a war?”

“That is precisely what we are seeking to avoid,” Amren says coolly, her plate untouched before her.

“And I thought you were seeking a trade agreement.” A smirk quirks Tarquin's lips, and I glance at Rhys in time to see the faintest sparkle in his violet eyes.

“Both of these things can be true,” my High Lord agrees smoothly. “Prythian’s political and economic improvement will only serve to strengthen our position on the world stage. Surely you realize Hybern and their allies will be searching for a vulnerable court to sink their claws into. I'm loath to give them the opportunity without first exhausting my own diplomatic efforts.”

“Why not send an emissary for negotiations? Why come all this way yourself?” Cresseida asks, delicately folding her hands in her lap. “It is the way these things have always been done.”

“And you see how well that served us.” The dark croon of Rhysand's response sends a chill down my spine. “Our bonds were so weak that, rather than turn to each other for resources, we allowed Amarantha to paper over her past with false promises of renewed wealth and bring ships to our borders that ferried our own destruction. I am not so eager to see any of us so easily fooled again, Princess.”

“And what of your own past, High Lord? Are we to overlook your own transgressions in the spirit of diplomacy?”

“I am who I have always been, princess. I make no excuses for the choices I’ve made, the things I have done or may yet do - it has always served a purpose.”

“Your purpose,” she says, arching a brow at Rhys. He takes another sip of his wine, holding her stare over the rim of his cup, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Though Tarquin’s welcome had been cordial enough, I’m beginning to understand that our visit may be more fraught than I’d imagined. The other courts do not hold favorable views of our own, something I’ve always heard but never truly experienced from my sheltered corner in Velaris. Amren coached me to come in as a wolf for a reason, because that is what they all expect, but their preconceived notions of our cruelty don’t seem to be doing us any favors politically. Why maintain the ruse at all?

“My court is my purpose. The wellbeing of my lands and people are my priority, whatever the cost.”

“And you’re here because…?”

“The wellbeing of your own lands and mine are not mutually exclusive. I believe we are stronger together than we are separated. We will need to be allies rather than enemies if we intend to weather an outside threat, princess.”

“Good luck convincing Kallias of that,” Tarquin says wryly. “He doesn’t appear to be very open to forming an alliance with anyone after what was done to all those children.”

There’s a dark implication in those words that makes my blood run cold. Children? Rhys doesn’t bat an eye and I focus on my plate, willing myself to chew the bite of fruit I’d just put in my mouth.

“Is there something you wish to ask me, Tarquin?”

“Will you tell the truth if he does?” Varian asks. The hair on the back of my neck begins to rise and I level a look at the Summer prince that doesn’t seem to faze him in the slightest.

“I will answer for any crime I’ve committed, Prince Varian, so long as I am the one who committed it. The blood that stains my hands is mine to own. I will not claim another’s handiwork and I will not take an accusation lightly. Be certain the blame is mine before you lay it at my feet.”

“I have no quarrel with you, Rhysand,” Tarquin says, his eyes flicking between my High Lord and Summer’s Prince, “and neither do my people. We have no accusations to make. What was done Under the Mountain must be laid to rest if we are to prosper - and that is my only interest. You and your courtiers are our guests, be welcome in our court. We have more to discuss later, you and I, but tonight I am throwing you a party on my pleasure barge. After that, you may roam Adriata as you wish.” Summer’s High Lord looks to me then with a smile as warm as the morning sun. “I do hope you’ll find it to your liking, lady. We have a scant few bookstores open for business.”

“I look forward to exploring them,” I murmur, taking another sip of my wine, “and everything else your lovely city has to offer.”

A brief sparkle lights his turquoise eyes and I drop my eyes back to my plate, my cheeks heating. I wonder if any of the clothes Mor packed will be suitable for a party on a pleasure barge. I wouldn’t begin to know what I might wear to such an event, but surely there will be something that will not be too heavy. I would sooner light myself on fire than ask Amren for assistance.

Once our incredibly awkward meal concludes, a servant appears to bring us to our assigned chambers. It is a suite of connecting rooms centered around a lovely, if lavish, lounge that opens to the sea and city below. I wander into an artfully decorated bedroom done in seafoam and light blue hues with hints of gold throughout. The adjoining bathing chamber - that must be at least the size of my cottage bedroom - has a bath deep enough for me to swim in and large, lovely windows looking out onto the water.

I barely have a moment to settle in before I hear Amren and Rhys speaking in low tones. I slip out into the lounge to see them seated on the white furniture in the center of the room. Amren, perched on a high-backed chair, looks every bit the conquering queen as she stares imperiously at Rhysand - who looks for all the world like he’s having a relaxing time, draped across the settee as he is. He offers me a nod when he notices me peering out, and a small smile warm enough to bolster my confidence.

“And you,” she says, her fierce eyes snapping to me as I wander over to windows to take in the view. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Precisely what she was brought to do,” the High Lord answers before I can formulate a response.

“You brought her to simper at Tarquin? You might have said as much before I debriefed her, I would have coached her in a different way. She’ll need to do far better than that meager display if you intend to use her as a distraction, Rhysand.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, blinking back at Rhys’ second-in-command.

“It would be inauthentic,” he says with a shrug. “Unlike the two of us, Amren, she’s likable. No one has any reason to be suspicious of her and she’s not going to give them one. We’ll need that if we’re to get Tarquin on our side.”

“And what of the book? Are we to sit by while she charms it out of him, or will we stick to the plan we made before we left.”

The book? I quickly sift through my memories, trying to remember any mention of a book, and my stomach begins to churn as I recall our conversation with the Bone Carver. The Book of Breathings is in this court - how could I have been so stupid that I didn’t think of it first? Our failsafe should Hybern reunite the cauldron with its feet. Of course Rhys would want it. How much of their scheming have I been left out of?

“Plan? If you came here with some sort of agenda, one of you might have let me in on it beforehand,” I murmur shyly.

“No,” Rhys says, giving me an appraising look as he taps his finger against his chin. “You are exactly as I hoped you would, any further direction might affect the way you present yourself. If I thought she would benefit from further information, Amren, I assure you I would have provided it. We need her to be the best of us and she’s doing a splendid job.”

“In service of what?” I ask, frowning at him. It seems I’m a pawn in a much larger game than I’d anticipated, and I don't like feeling used. “What am I here for, Rhys?”

“You’re here to enjoy Adriata, as I said when I extended the offer. Matters beyond that are not your concern.”

“Not my concern.” The words slide from my lips like oil, and I think he actually winces when he hears them repeated back. “Right. Well, I’ll just go find something suitable to wear for the party. I assume that is my concern.”

I don’t give either of them time to respond before I return to my room, shutting the door firmly behind me. Why was I brought here? To be a pretty distraction and enjoy the city, as though I did not delve into the belly of the Prison at Rhysand’s side? Did they not trust me to be more useful or, at the very least, to keep their plan a secret if they’d bothered to inform me of it? Amren I cannot blame, she and I have interacted exactly once before today, she does not know me any better than any other Night Court citizen, but Rhys? I thought, after the months we’ve spent getting to know each other, at least he might trust me enough to keep me informed.

Blinking back hurt tears, I rifle through the clothes in my trunk until I come across a silk sari the color of Tarquin’s eyes trimmed in gold. The blouse is reminiscent of cresting waves and, beneath it all, there are a pair of sandals that barely qualify as a shoe. The lightly cushioned soles are lined with delicate gold chains to secure them to my feet. I can only hope they are enchanted to be comfortable as I carry the white robe hanging on the back of my door to the bathing chamber, where I fill the bath with warm water and sweet, citrusy bubbles from a glass vial perched in the corner.

Rhys might have insisted I’m only here to enjoy the city, but I intend to be useful through any means necessary. Amren implied I might be a distraction, if that is to be the case then I will endeavor to be the loveliest female in the room - which may be asking a lot, but it’s worth a shot. Before I submerge myself in the tub, I open the windows alongside it to let the sea air in and find myself staring into the bright blue water beneath my window. There, twirling in the bay, are seven large, green sea turtles. They seem to be swimming out of synch, several of them nearly run into each other as they dart beneath the waves. The longer I stare, the more attuned they seem to become to each other’s movements, and before I know it they’re floating in a perfect circle beneath my window.

The sight of them is so breathtaking, I miss the dark outline of the shark until it darts beneath them, heading for the center of their circle. The turtles scatter, swimming with a speed I didn’t think possible in different directions, leaving the shark to sink beneath the waves. Once I’m sure the show is over, I sink into the bath and lean my head against the rim of the tub. I close my eyes to find the outline of those turtles burning against the darkness, floating in a perfect circle.

A breeze brushes against my cheekbone, as light and sweet as a kiss from the Mother herself.

#fic: heart of velaris #sea of change part III #by whisperingmidnights #rhysand x reader

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goldenmagnolias · 3 days

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😱 THE ENDING ?!?! OH MY GOODNESS

Whispers of the Forgotten | pt. 7

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2k words | warnings: mentions of trauma | masterlist

Your neck is aching when you throw it back and release a loud groan. Your eyes are already burning from staring into books the whole day. Outside Velaris has already entered the night – many hours ago–, but you are still sitting here, your back sore from being bent over the books for hours.

The orange candle on the table, the only light source in the living room of the house of wind at this point, has almost burnt down to nothing, but you need it just a few more minutes.

You are so close, you know it. The solution is right there, you just need to grasp it.

Reaching forward, you place your hand on the onyx box, sharp nails piercing into it. With the index finger of your other hand you trail over some ancient spells written in lettering that is now longer used. The spells are most likely witches runes, you are not familiar with them, but with the help of Nesta and maybe also Amren, you will be able to open the box.

You can feel it. You can feel how the small casket reacts to your touch, to the idea of being opened. It is burning with emotion, so hot your palm heats.

You are so close – so close to opening this damn box. And so close to freedom. You will be allowed to roam freely when this is over, no one will ever lock you away again. Once the box is open you will demand your amulet back. With it your powers will return and then you are gone. To the continent or wherever the wind takes you.

Gone…involuntarily your thoughts wander to the shadowsinger. He is also gone. Has been gone for a few days now. Gone just like back then. When he left you behind, broken and bloody. He did not even check to see if you are alright. If your wounds are too deep. If you will survive.

Rhysand’s words hollow in your mind, loud, strong, and you force your eyes closed, fighting against the tears.

“My father…he threatened the other female in Azriel’s life. The only other female he would have given his life for. This was the only way to protect you both.”

All those years, you have wondered what Azriel’s reasons were. Why he betrayed you like this. Why he never came to see you. You don’t know if you will ever be able to forgive him, but what you know is that you want to give him another chance to talk. You want to hear it from him. Everything. Every little thing he has to say. You want him to talk about his mother, about how he locked you in the Prison, the moments after it, the moment when he found out what the Harp was capable of. He owes you all the explanations and you owe him your time to listen.

You shake your head, directing every thought that threatens to stray into Azriel’s direction at matter at hand again – Koschei’s onyx box. You need to open it and you are so close. You flip over to the next page, finding more cryptic lettering. Your eyes are closed when your fingers trail over the words, the runes, the pictures and you feel it. This is it.

Jumping up, the chair scratches over the ground with a loud noise. You need to find Nesta, and you need to find her now. You really hope she is not currently otherwise occupied with a certain general of the Illyrian armies because you really need to talk to her.

Blowing out the candle, you turn swiftly and head for the corridor, running as fast as your feet can take you, your thin, silken gown swishing around your legs. You head up the stairs, towards Nesta and Cassian’s main bedroom, but stop dead in your tracks when your eyes land on him. When his moan of agony pierces through your mind.

The door to his bathroom is open, his bloody chest exposed, large wings draped on the ground, his hands braced on the edges of the sink.

You can’t tear your eyes away and fully on your own accord your feet start to walk, no longer moving you towards Nesta’s room, but to him. You can’t stop yourself, it is like something is pulling you to him. And you know what it is – the tug on your chest. Before his betrayal you had loved the idea of it. Then everything came crashing down, and you hated it. You have been clamping down on the feeling of it for centuries, pushing it away, but now seeing him bloody and wounded –seeing your mate bloody and wounded– fire ignites deep within your soul, the bond once more coming alive inside of you.

“Azriel.” Your voice trembles, heart squeezing at the gaping wounds marring his entire torso, dripping with blood and puss. It looks awful and painful. Your fingers curl towards your palms.

He whips his head into your direction, and with a crooked smile, he says, “It isn’t as bad as it looks.”

“Bullshit,” you answer and step into the bathroom. “You look like you have been attacked by a beast, those wounds are deep. You need a healer to look over them.” When your eyes lifts, they clash with his.

“Don’t act like you care,” he mumbles, holding your gaze.

“You have no right to snap at me, Azriel,” you answer in a stern voice, “not after everything that has happened between us, not after everything you did to me.”

“I am sorry.”

“I know.” You close the door behind you and fully move into the room, reaching for the cloth on the sink that is no longer white, but has no a pinkish colour, stained from all the blood. You clasp it tightly in your hand, and without saying a word, attach the cloth to Azriel’s wounded skin. He sucks in a sharp intake of air, then holds his breath and lets you do your work. “I am ready to talk, Azriel.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his fingers curl around the edge of the sink, scarred knuckles turning white. “I needed time, I needed time to adapt, to understand, to progress, but I am ready to talk now.” You tip your head back and meet his hazel eyes, a flicker of hope within them now that you revealed that you are ready to talk to him.

“Rhysand told me about your mother.”

“His father threatened to execute her. I needed to protect her, but I need you to know that I didn’t choose her over you. I was…torn. I only had a few people in my life that I loved, and risking one’s life for that of another…I only tried to–”

“Keep us both safe. I know this now.” Your hand moves lower, brushing over a wound on his lower belly that disappears behind the pants of his Illyrian leathers.

“I was trying to get you out. I was looking for ways once all threats were gone, but…only when we found the Harp I had a solution on how to do it. I knew how I was going to get you.”

You nod slowly, and put the cloth aside. “Let’s patch you up and then we talk properly, yes?”

It is a big step you are taking, but you know you have to do it. You finally have to talk to him. Your heart is racing both with panic about being so close to the person that has hurt you most in your life, but also with relief that you can finally be near him without feeling like the air to breathe has been stolen from you. He still unnerves you, but now that you have learned more about why he acted like this, talking to him seems easier.

You have to talk to him. For yourself. You need to know everything. Find out what really were his reasons.

“In my room?” Azriel asks in a calm voice.

You nod again and set out to do exactly what you said – patching him up.

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

“He showed me what he would do to her. All the cruel things. And all the cruel things he would do to you. He invaded my mind and showed it to me.”

You find yourself nodding again, tears lining your eyes. You sit next to him on the bed, Azriel’s head resting on the pillow, close to your hips, his chest now bandaged, his body covered by the thin bed sheet. “I had no choice.”

You want to tell him that everyone always has a choice, but in this case, this was truly the only way to do it. You have been listening to him for the past hour or even longer, soft moonlight filtering in through the curtain-framed windows. It is the only lightsource, but you don’t need more. You close your eyes, your soul for the first time calm and at ease in his presence. Azriel has been talking the whole time, a rarity you think, because centuries ago when you were together he was always rather calm.

“Did it really hurt you to put me in the Prison?”

You feel the bed shift next to you, and a moment later his scarred digits brush your hand. “What a question…” You can hear how he draws in a deep inhale and his hand closes tightly around yours. “It tore me apart. It felt like someone ripped out my heart, and tore it into pieces. Like my soul lost its life, like it was diminished and I could never ever feel happiness again. All the years, the centuries that passed, where I couldn’t free you, destroyed more parts of my soul.”

You slide down on the pillow, not letting go of his hand, until you are on eye-level with him. His head is turned to you, and he is already looking at you when you open your lids.

“I knew the first moment I could find a way to free you, to get you out, I would do it. You were bound to the Prison by the High Lord’s magic, you couldn’t get out alone, not even if I had tried to. It was only possible through the Harp – the Dead Trove’s magic is stronger than any High Lord’s.”

You deep your chin, nodding slowly, the back of your mouth aching. “I thought you hated me, you loathed and feared me just like everyone else. That our whole relationship was a false-pretence.”

His throat bobs. “I didn’t fake a single thing – every I love you, every kiss, every hug, whenever we made love, I meant it all. And I meant when I said that I would protect you…I never meant to hurt you. To destroy you.”

You shift closer on the bed. “Do you know why your soul hurt after you put me into the Prison?”

“Because I lost the love of my life.” He pushes up on his elbows, groaning due to the wounds on his chest that have not yet healed. He shifts onto his side, now looking directly at you, but you shake your head.

“No, Azriel,” you say, “your soul hurt because we were mates and the bond broke the moment you closed the gates to my cell.”

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @azrielsmate2 @callmeblaire @lilah-asteria

#azriel x reader #fic: whispers of the forgotten #part 7 #by fieldofdaisiies

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goldenmagnolias · 3 days

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Am I screaming? YES YES I AM

yesssss 👏

Spirit Meets the Bones - XVI

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

shoutout to my bby @abruisedmuse for staying on this journey with me!

Find it all here.

Before panic closed his throat and he could dive into an irrational mental breakdown, Iris returned with a bowl and a small cloth in her hands, and visceral relief washed over him. Eris watched her make her way toward their couch and sit. She looked at him and then calmly gestured to the seat next to her. “Come sit. I want to see your hands.”

Eris’s blink was the only show of surprise he would allow himself to give but slowly, he made his way over to her. He carefully sat next to her, allowing enough space between them in case she needed it. In case — in case he had indeed frightened her.

Iris paused at the space and her brows furrowed. “Are you uncomfortable if I come closer?” she asked quietly, a flush on her face and Eris felt his chest tighten.

“I’m giving you space — from me.”

He watched her expression soften and with a small shake of her head, she moved closer to him and held out her hands. Eris let his eyes roam her face before his gaze dipped to her open palms. She was so steady. So steady and calm. No panic to be found. His wife, a healer through and through.

His eyes flickered back to her face, her bruises still evident and he felt a part of him die at the sight.

“You’re the one who is hurt,” he said roughly. “He — he left bruises on you.”

Iris paused and Eris had to swallow as a rage like no other consumed once more. He had half a mind to find her father again and just rip his head clean off his body. He wanted to kill him again and again and maybe even —

“Eris.”

He blinked and Iris came back into view. She surprised him once more when she gave him a tight smile.

“I’m okay.” she said softly. “It’s already healing. This isn’t even the worst he’s done.”

“Not the worst?” he snarled and Eris’s hands fisted in his lap, the cuts and scrapes stinging in protest but he still said through clenched teeth, “He shouldn’t have been in here. He shouldn’t have laid a hand on you. I gave you my word —”

“My father is the only one responsible for what happened here. Do not blame yourself.” she said firmly, mirroring a statement of his own.

But how could he not blame himself? He was supposed to have protected her. He was supposed to —

“Can I see your hands, please?” she said and held out her hands once more.

Eris’s eyes flickered down to them, steady and open for him but he met her eyes again. “Are you sure?”

Iris only paused for a moment then quietly said, “Of course.”

Slowly, he slid his bruised and bloodied fists into her hands and his heart began thumping wildly as she ran her thumb across them, turning them over to assess. Iris rested them in her lap then turned to the bowl, wetting the towel and wringing it out before bringing it back toward him.

“It might sting a little.” she said softly.

“Believe it or not, I can handle a little sting.” he said quietly, and the corner of Iris’s mouth lifted as she shifted closer. Eris almost did as well but his face immediately fell at the slight wince that crossed her face.

“I’m fine.” she said quickly but he pulled his hands away.

“Clearly.” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m going to call for Nevien. She can heal you and I can heal fine on my own.”

“No!” Iris said and Eris froze at her tone. At the wide eyes and the bob of her throat. “I — I don’t want anyone to know. It’s healing as we speak so just — let me heal you.”

His eyes narrowed, assessing, and Eris tilted his head just so, hearing the frantic beating of her heart. Sensing the embarrassment radiating off her. He felt himself reluctantly soften.

“There isn’t anything to be embarrassed about, Iris.” he said quietly, and his chest tightened again at the tremble in her lip.

Her eyes fell to her lap and she took a breath before looking up at him again. “Can I please just heal your hands?” she whispered. “Please?”

And it was the pleading look in her eyes that had Eris run his tongue over his teeth and give in, slowly resting his fists in her lap once more. He watched her silently, slowly inhaling and exhaling to calm himself, to calm the rage still sweeping through him so that Iris didn’t back away from him. Only when she had started dabbing at his cuts and running her fingers gently across them to heal, did she finally speak.

“You beat him to near death.” she commented.

“If you had let me, I would’ve killed him.”

Iris stopped and looked up at him. She watched him silently for a moment then her eyes fell back to his hands. “For me.” she stated.

“For you.” he confirmed, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He felt no hesitation in answering. None. And he straightened as that thought sobered him up completely.

He let it fall silent between them once more, observing her as she curled a strand of loose hair behind her ear then continued with his hands. Eris watched her face as he flexed a fist in her lap and Iris winced slightly, freezing for a moment. His face fell.

Trying to hide the slight desperation in his tone, he asked, “A question for a question.”

It made his heart clench when the corner of her mouth went up in a sad smile. “A question for a question.”

“Did I frighten you?”

She blinked at him in surprise. “No.”

“You flinched back when I flexed my hand.”

Iris’s lips went into a thin line but she fell silent. Eris watched her swallow, holding as still as possible, hearing how rapidly her heart beat. He wanted — gods, he wanted to soothe her. He wasn’t exactly sure how but cauldron, he wanted to bring her some peace. He wanted to pull her closer and — and — Eris licked his lips, his eyes darting all over the tight expression on her face and grimacing.

He had only held her in his arms for the first time last night. He didn’t realize wanting to hug someone would be so hard.

So he waited and did the only thing that felt most natural between them, he took her hand in his and gently ran his thumb against the back of it.

“He — he slammed me against the table so my lower back is a little sore. When I shifted just now, I felt the aftermath of that.” she explained calmly, her hands now resting beneath his. She carefully met his gaze.

And Eris waited again as she watched him. She swallowed then her face fell, her bottom lip trembling violently and Eris’s expression mirrored hers.

“Iris —”

“I talk a big game.” she said faintly. “But in the end when it comes to my father...I am nothing.”

Eris’s grip tightened on her hands. “Don’t you dare call yourself that. He is nothing. He is nothing but a piece of shit —”

But Iris squeezed his hands again and the sniffle that followed silenced Eris. “I am weak.” she whispered and her hands shook in his. “When it comes to him, I always am. I am glad you came but I still wish — I wish you hadn’t seen it.”

“Iris — no.” he breathed, and this time Eris did pull her closer, his fingers gently skimming her cheek and curling a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You and I — we — we’re two sides of the same coin, remember? I want to see. I want to know. You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

“I’m — I’m not used to anyone seeing it when he acts like that.” she continued and looked anywhere but at him. “I don’t like this feeling.”

“Iris.” he said gently and pulled her chin towards him. It killed him to see the silver lining her eyes, to see that lip still trembling, to hear another sniffle. He still didn’t know how to soothe. He still wasn’t sure how to ease. All his life ever consisted of was chaos and yet — with her, everything seemed to calm. He met her gaze firmly, even as his own hand trembled lightly on her chin.

The words spilled out of him easily, as if they’d always been there, sitting on the tip of his tongue. “It’s just you and me. We are in this together and I want it all.”

Her eyes bore into his and she gently, slowly, took his hand in hers, bringing it to her cheek even as she sniffled. “You promise that?” she whispered, and Eris felt the breath nearly choke out of him at the sight of his hand on her face, at the feel of her skin still healing beneath his touch, that she had deliberately put it there herself.

“I promise.” he swore hoarsely, his thumb caressing reverently. “I know I broke my word today but I —”

“I know why you weren’t there. I knew he had something to do with it.” she said gently and shook her head. “I don’t blame you at all.”

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled and the familiar feeling of self-loathing began to fester in his chest. “I should’ve been — I was supposed to —”

Iris shook her head once more and took a breath. She tilted her head back, resting both of his hands in her lap once more, and blinked rapidly before sniffling then meeting his eyes again.

“This is why I am the way I am.” she mumbled. “The only thing I know how to do is fight, even when I am at my weakest. Even when I won’t win. He’s stifled me my whole life. Whether it’s through his words or his fists, all he ever did was bring me down. All I’ve known is this anger.” she bit her lip and quickly wiped angrily at a stray tear that fell. “For a while, I listened, let him do whatever he wanted without saying a word. I followed all his rules, all his requests...but then I realized whether I fought against him or not, his punishment was the same. He relished it.”

Her mouth twisted in disgust. “I was the enemy from the moment I took my first breath and it got worse and worse as I aged. He acts that way because he can. Because he has all the power to do so.” she said. She looked at Eris, then looked down at their hands in her lap, where he had started rubbing soothingly again. “With you...I expected a similar situation...but you could hurt me differently. You could hurt me a lot. In fact, I’m sure he counted on it.” she said with a hollow laugh. “But instead...you’re the first person to ever defend me. To actually listen to me and give me a chance. To ever show that you — you care.”

Eris watched her and pain wrapped itself around his wretched heart as she spoke because oh gods, did he care.

“Of course, I care.” he said tightly and then swallowed. “I — I know I’m not the most graceful with my words and I’m an ass most of the time but — Iris. You’re my wife. You’re — you’re my friend. Of course, I care.”

Iris met his eyes and then looked down at their hands once more. She took a breath and then met his gaze once more. “Well…that’s a relief, I suppose. Because I — I care about you too.” she said more shyly than she’d ever been with him. “And I want you to know that I am not afraid of your hands. You are my friend. You are my husband. I am not afraid of you.”

Eris closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath at her words then looked down at their hands, now intertwined.

“Those words…” he began then blew out a breath. “They mean more than you know.”

The corner of her mouth lifted for a moment. “What you did today means more than you know.”

“One word.” he vowed. “Just one — and I will gladly wipe him from existence.”

She gave him a sad smile. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

Eris’s eyes roamed her face, wanting to say more — wanting to do more. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted so desperately, it hurt. But her bruises were still fresh and she still winced when she moved and Eris would be damned if he caused her any more discomfort.

What she clearly needed was some rest, some time to collect herself, and maybe some food. She didn’t need him pawing at her like one of his hounds. He was barely keeping it together as is.

“Why don’t you freshen up and get some rest?” he suggested, letting his thumb run across her hand one more time. “I will let Lucien and Elain know not to expect us today. We’ll go another time.”

“No!” Iris said, straightening with a wince. “I still want to go.”

Eris arched a brow and gave her a pointed look. “Are you sure? I want you to feel your best when we go.”

Though she flushed, she firmly squeezed his hands and gave him a pleading look. “I won’t let him ruin anything else for me. I’ve been looking forward to this and we still have time before we have to leave. I want to go.”

He realized again, as she gazed at him, that he would likely never refuse a request from her. Never put her in a position where she had to plead with him.

And oh, did Eris Vanserra realize how incredibly fucked he was when he sucked in a breath and then simply said, “Then we will go.”

Iris nodded as her shoulders sagged in relief then bit the corner of her lip, glancing at him and then down at their hands. “Before we go...do you think we can see the hounds for a moment?” she asked quietly. “They make me feel better.”

Eris gave her a small smile then squeezed her hands as she looked back at him. “Of course,” he said. “They make me feel better too.”

Iris shared a small smile with him and Eris watched her swallow, surprising him by leaning in closer. Eris froze and held his breath as she met his gaze then looked away, delighting him by placing a delicate kiss on his cheek. He hardly blinked, watching her slowly stand, her cheeks burning.

“Thank you.” she said softly. “I hope that was alright.”

It took him a minute to process the feeling of her lips on his skin. To hold himself back from pouncing on her to demand he feel those lips again elsewhere. “Very.” he said roughly. “It is always alright with you.”

Iris’s gaze dropped to her feet and the air between them seemed to shift. Despite the circumstances, despite what happened, it buzzed pleasantly.

“I’m — I’m going to go change.” she said, and again Eris noted that shyness in her tone again. A side of her he was definitely not used to.

“I’ll be right here.” he confirmed and with a small lift of her lips, she turned, heading towards their bathroom. She paused once, right in front of the same spot with the flecked blood and Eris watched her swallow hard before she hurried into the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind her.

He let out a breath, sagging against the couch, and closed his eyes momentarily.

Eris realized with alarming clarity, the depth of his feelings for her. He had felt this pull towards her gradually from the moment she threw that chair at him their first night together. But this constant desire to see her happy, to be the one to make her happy, to protect, to care for. He had certainly never felt like this before.

He ran shaky fingers through his hair, pulling at a lock to stare at it. He had woken up this morning instantly wanting to cut his hair — just because she had suggested it — because she liked the idea of him with shorter hair. The thought had made his body lock up in bed, knowing he would. He realized he would do just about anything for her.

And that — that terrified him. Because Eris wasn’t foolish. He had guessed at this emotion — this attachment, but it was with no confirmation and so he buried it deep enough to ignore it. Yet...he kept sinking around her.

Eris glanced at the bathroom door, listening to the sound of running water.

She was his wife. His friend. His partner. And today only solidified that he wouldn’t let a single thing harm her again. He’d kill it. Consequences be damned.

When Iris had finally emerged from the bathroom, freshened, and in a new dress, Eris was immaculate once more and already had the room cleaned and organized, with a tray of light snacks waiting on the table for her.

She paused at the threshold of their bathroom door and tried not to stare at him for too long, wondering how she would clamp down on the intensity of what she was feeling at the moment. He had nearly killed her father. Because of her. For her. He had not hesitated a single moment and Iris was nearly overwhelmed by the surge of emotion that hit her as she watched him shift the tray slightly, his back still to her.

When Iris had stepped into the bathroom and finally allowed the tears she’d been holding back to fall, Eris’s lingering touch had been the one to keep her from crumbling completely. She cried silently as she stripped the day dress she had been wearing and the tears continued to fall as she looked in the bathroom mirror to see the bruises. She let the tears continue as she washed away the ghost of her father’s hands and the sound of his hateful words, just as she had done every other time this happened over the years.

She let herself process and only when she could take a deep breath without tearing up, did she let herself heal her bruises, watching in the mirror as she began to slowly fix herself, as easily as the deep breath she took. It was thanks to Eris that she could master it enough to do it so easily. It was thanks to him that her father hadn’t done worse this time. It was thanks to him her father would hopefully never do it again.

The image of Eris’s wrath being unleashed on the person she hated most had filled her with a sense of vindication like no other. She hadn’t feared him for a moment. Only could watch as he raged for her.

Until he threw her father out. Until it hit her that Eris had seen what others had never seen on her.

Iris watched him now, fidgeting still with the tray and she looked down as her face flushed, biting her lip. Her eyes flicked to the now clean floor where the blood of her father had been spilled and she took a deep breath. She was fine. It would be okay.

She did not want his pity and he would not be the one to pity her.

So Iris sat with him at the table as he silently moved the tray towards her, watching her take a small bite. She had no appetite but with the intense way he watched her, she knew Eris wouldn’t budge until he was sure she ate something. So she indulged him.

Just as she had finally indulged in giving him a chaste kiss.

He continued to watch her as she finished, swatting her hand away with a scowl when she attempted to clean up, and shooed her away silently as he took over. She felt his eyes on her as she put the finishing touches on her dress, as she styled her hair, and much to Iris’s amusement, Eris continued to watch her intensely as they left the room and made their way to the hounds, his grip on her tightening whenever they passed others.

But she said nothing and he said nothing, only holding her closer against him, their hands interlaced the whole way.

A far cry from where the two had started.

Her heart beat wildly at how much she liked the way he watched her. His eyes didn’t watch her with pity or disdain. His gaze was a claiming, a look filled with emotions as mixed as her own.

And Iris knew without saying a word, Eris felt the whirlwind of feelings she was experiencing.

As they slipped into the kennel, Iris squeezed his hand gently and Eris reluctantly let her go, clasping his hands behind his back so she wouldn’t see his twiddling fingers. As the minutes passed and Eris watched Iris coo and cuddle with their hounds, he felt exceedingly pathetic as he physically restrained himself from touching her. Whatever cool, calm, and annoying demeanor he usually had vanished completely.

“Are you going to keep watching me like that?” Iris asked him quietly, a small smile on her face as she sat between the hounds, petting as they nuzzled into her enthusiastically. “I’m alright, you know.”

Eris gave her a half-smile. “I can’t help it that I find you incredibly breathtaking, wife.” he said with a shrug as Lyra came to nudge his side. His hand slid to scratch behind her ear. “Do you not want me to look at you?”

Iris bit her lip then slowly stood, turning towards Eris and he straightened at her solemn expression.

“You’re looking at me because you’re worried.” she said quietly and when he opened his mouth to respond, Iris held up a hand and then moved closer to him. “What happened between my father and I is something that I have had to, unfortunately, deal with for years but...I have learned to handle it as best as I can. To do what I can for myself and keep moving forward, even as he’s tried to paralyze him by his mere presence.” Iris closed her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath then exhaled softly, her expression easing as she looked at him. “I don’t want to give him any more power to dwell in my mind or to ruin anything else for me so please, don’t keep looking at me like I’m going to break. I think you, of all people, would understand this…I don’t want to think about him or anything that has to do with him anymore.”

Eris scanned her face and her stance as she spoke, her words mirroring so much of his own thoughts about his wretched father. He understood more than she’d realized.

He held out his hands and Iris raised a brow before slowly sliding her hands into his. “I want to make sure you’re alright. That is all.” he said quietly, and Iris gave him a small smile.

“Is it?” she asked. “You once told me not to pity you when it comes to your father and I told you that I expect the same from you.”

Eris’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I do not pity you. There is absolutely nothing to be pitied when it comes to you.” he muttered, and Iris squeezed his hands. “I look at you because I care about you and want to make sure you’re fine. I am a bastard in many ways but not when it comes to my duties. And it is my duty to pay attention to you.”

Her expression softened and Eris was thankful she looked away from him so she wouldn’t see his hard swallow at his own words. When she looked at him again, he squeezed her hands.

“You’re alright?” he asked.

“I am alright.” she confirmed softly and the corner of his mouth lifted.

“Then please note that at this moment, I am looking at you because I am simmering with carnal desire.” he teased gently. “No other reason whatsoever.”

“Ah, so your true intentions have emerged,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Please husband, you’ll scandalize the puppies.”

“Not puppies.” he replied, his lips twitching.

Eris simply watched her with a small smile that Iris shyly returned and once again, said nothing more. Last night in each other’s arms had certainly shifted things between them but he wasn’t sure if he could handle any more of the feelings he was failing miserably to push down.

His wretched heart leaped into his throat when she stepped back, then interlaced their fingers again, the gesture so comfortable and normal, it made Eris’s throat tighten. His heart continued to thump wildly as they said goodbye to his hounds and made their way to the winnowing point, his mind whirling a thousand thoughts a minute.

“Do you have Lucien’s letter from your mother?” she asked quietly. “And our house gift?”

“I have the letter and sent the gift ahead.”

“Did you write a nice note?” she asked him and Eris couldn’t stop staring at her face, scrunched in all seriousness. “I didn’t get a chance to.”

“Yes.” he answered, distracted momentarily by how she bit her lip and then cleared his throat. “I said it was from you to Elain specifically and that Lucien can choke on a dick.”

Iris stopped in her tracks, narrowing her eyes. “You did not.”

Eris smirked as his eyes locked on her face and gave her a nonchalant shrug. “You’ll see for yourself when we get there.”

Iris shot him a glare and the look was one he was so used to, he couldn’t help but tilt his head back with a laugh. He pulled her closer into his side as he grinned down at her but Iris only squinted at him.

“You’re so annoying.”

“I know.”

“Sometimes I really can’t stand you.”

“I know that too.”

Iris rolled her eyes then gently knocked her shoulder against him and Eris’s mouth tilted up, all the feelings in his chest unfurling. He couldn’t stop staring at her. He also really felt like vomiting.

“If you know you’re being annoying and that I can’t really stand you, why do you behave the way that you do?” she asked, pursing her lips and Eris chuckled at her failed attempt to hide a smile.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t obsessed with how magnificent I am, wife. I can see the lust in your eyes.” he said quietly, his free hand threading a loose curl between his fingers and then tugging on it gently. “Will you be able to control yourself while we winnow or will I need to get myself a shield for additional protection?”

“You’re the one who looks like you’re going to faint every time I touch you.” she mumbled and scrunched her nose, avoiding his gaze when he chuckled again.

“It must be the witchcraft in your touch.” he replied and held out his hand.

Iris’s lips twitched as she met his gaze, sliding her hand into his and said, “Maybe one day I’ll put a spell on that mouth of yours to get some peace and quiet.”

“And go a moment without hearing my voice? Why do you insist on making things so difficult for yourself?” Eris tsked with a raised brow and Iris rolled her eyes.

“Too cocky for your own good, prince.”

“Confident just the right amount I’d say, my lady.”

Iris shook her head with a small smile, but she didn’t look away from him and Eris couldn’t look away from her if he tried. He thought back to their first night together and how he had craved something normal then. How unexpected it had come. How delightful it was. A simple joy he had not experienced...in so long. A joy he wasn’t sure he rightly deserved but would latch on to with everything he had.

“Ready to see the Day Court?” he finally asked and Iris smiled at him.

“Oh yes.” she began and Eris stilled as she faced him, her free hand smoothing a nonexistent crease on his shirt. “But before we go, I need to give you something.”

Eris arched a brow and tried not to be too distracted by how much of her body was touching his. How right she felt, holding his hand and looking up at him with such an open look in her eyes. Her bruises had faded completely but only because he was looking for them, did he still see the shadows of them and tried to hold back his anger from flaring up.

He focused on her eyes instead.

“Yes, wife?” he murmured, and Iris squeezed his hand before slipping it free, sliding both hands down the fabric of her plum-colored dress instead. Eris’s eyes followed her hands and he took in the cinched waist of the dress, tied with a pretty bow in the middle — the delicate sleeves, the modest cut of her cleavage that gave him a small tease. He couldn’t stop himself from sliding a hand to gently tug on the bow, looking up just in time to see Iris’s flushed face giving him a knowing look.

“Focus.”

“I am very focused.”

“On what I would like to say, please.” she said with amusement. “You can tug on the bow all you like, it’s not going to budge.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it.” He said with a smirk but obediently let his hands fall back to his side.

Iris only rolled her eyes. “I look presentable, then?”

The corner of his mouth lifted as Eris looked up to meet her gaze. “You look beautiful.” he said simply.

Iris flushed and bit her lip, looking down to where his hands rested at his sides then slowly, carefully, she moved them to settle on her hips instead. Iris’s hands slowly moved to settle on his chest and Eris felt his heart short circuit. “Before I give you this something I want to give, I would like to tell you something.” she whispered with a little smile.

“Tell me what?” he asked helplessly and he couldn’t take his eyes off her stunning face, off those beautiful hooded hazel eyes that seemed to look into his very soul.

“I wanted to tell you again...thank you.” she said and the little shy smile blessed her face once more. “For defending me.”

Eris swallowed, his eyes drinking in the sight of her stunning face. He could only murmur, “Nothing to thank for. I only did as a husband should.”

“And for being my friend.” she added softly, the smile still there as his heart thumped too loudly.

“I’m — I’m happy to be your friend, Iris.” he said with a small smile of his own, his hands tightening on her waist.

“I am happy to be yours too, Eris.” she replied with a small chuckle and if possible, moved into him closer. “Even though you are very obnoxious, and I was very prepared to hate you for as long as possible.”

Eris let out a choked laugh, tightening his hold on her. “Can’t blame you, my reputation precedes me.”

“I do recall you saying it was catered to a specific audience,” she said, spreading her fingers across this chest. “I don’t think I’m part of that category anymore.”

“You never were.” he said with a chuckle. “You did just say you like being my friend.”

Iris’s gaze dropped to her hands then flickered back to meet his. “I do.” she said quietly. “But I think — I think I’m ready to be a little more than that with you.”

Eris felt the air leave his body, barely blinked — barely had a moment to hear what she said as the only warning he received was the mischievous glint in her eyes before her hands curled into the front of his tunic and she yanked him down to her, her lips finally, finally meeting his.

He felt the world tilt, wondering if he had stumbled into a daydream until Iris leaned into him more firmly, pressing her body into him, and the soft noise that slipped from her lips had Eris’s body unlocking immediately.

And gods, if she wasn’t the most divine creature he had the pleasure of kissing. Kissing her ignited every ember of fire in his heart, his heart that was dangerously close to bursting out of his damn chest. Eris let her lead for a moment, let her nip at his lips as her fingers tightened into his tunic and he let her pull away for a second — just to breathe — so he could look into her eyes and her flushed face — ensuring that indeed, this wasn’t some kind of strange hallucination.

And then Eris was on her.

Her full lips were soft, welcoming to his own and Eris groaned at the taste of her. He leaned into her desperately, a hand cupping the back of her head while the other rested on her lower back as he dipped her slightly, pouring himself into the kiss and Iris returned it with a fervor he would be delighted to think about later.

He kissed her and she kissed him, the heated claiming saying all the words they wished to say but couldn’t just yet. A kiss that seemed to soothe all the jagged ends of his soul. A kiss where their jaded spirits met their tired bones.

And it was as he pulled her closer into him, drunk on the taste of her lips did he feel the thread between them, thumping in his bloodstream. The same thread he had seen before, that he now understood had woven around his wretched heart. The thread that pulled.

It hummed the one word he had been waiting for — Mate.

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

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goldenmagnolias · 9 days

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones - XV

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

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

Find it all here.

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

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

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

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

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

Although none of it mattered in the end.

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

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

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

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

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

He’d welcome Lord Aron warmly alright.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course. He is the High Lord.”

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

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

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

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

“Lower.” Eris snarled lowly.

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

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

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

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

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

Eris smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then Eris was on him.

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

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

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

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

“Your father —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eris — son, let’s not —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eris — we can —”

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

He watched Lord Aron swallow thickly and his smirk widened.

“I - I’m sorry — let’s just —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eris — wait —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He heard something else.

“Eris.”

His name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She blinked in surprise then nodded. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he said nothing. And she said nothing.

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

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

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

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

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goldenmagnolias · 10 days

Text

YESSS OMG YES ERIS

Go Eris go Eris Go!

Spirit Meets the Bones - XIV

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

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

Find it all here.

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

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

The flames hadn’t quite simmered down just yet.

“Distracted this morning, aren’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good.”

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

“Is something wrong, mother?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His mother blinked. “Your hair.”

“My hair, yes.”

“How short are you thinking?”

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

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

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

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

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

His mother gave him that knowing look of hers.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mother.”

She smiled. “Yes?”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“Your face is as red as your hair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t speak to me that way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her father quirked a brow. “You apologized?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop it.”

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

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

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

“No.” she snarled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Drop the knife.” he growled.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?”

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

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

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

And Eris had promised.

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

“Stop.”

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

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

Eris.

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

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

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

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

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

Where are you, Eris?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he seemed to know.

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

“I’m going to kill you.”

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

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goldenmagnolias · 14 days

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones - XIII

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

shoutout to @abruisedmuse always for being my bby <33

Find it all here.

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

“I — I —”

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

“Son?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He waited.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Very badly."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A heartbeat of silence passed then Iris swallowed.

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

“I’ll be there.” he promised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eris blinked. “My hair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bold of you to assume you deserve anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A beat of silence passed then —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t even think about it, Iris.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you now?”

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

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

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

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

“I wouldn't rest until you did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know I want you closer.”

“I know.”

“Then come closer.”

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

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

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

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

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

How long had it been since someone had held her?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Romantic, aren't we.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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goldenmagnolias · 17 days

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I LOVED this chapter 👏👏😌😌😍😍

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part X

Find Part I here :)

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

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

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

Elain had not slept well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are mine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are mine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are mine.

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

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goldenmagnolias · 17 days

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happy luce noises

#lucien vanserra

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goldenmagnolias · 20 days

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#writing insp #miscellaneous things

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goldenmagnolias · 20 days

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Chasing Starlight: Chapter 23

Pairing: Poly!Feysand x female!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The truth of what?”

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

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

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

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

“I…what do you want?”

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

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

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

“Oh, Eris, I can and will do far worse than that.” My blood chills at the deadly edge Rhysand’s voice takes. I’ve never heard him speak like that to anyone, never felt that deadly chill I’ve only heard whispers of. The High Lord of the Night Court has never given me reason to fear him before, yet that sleepy, glazed look in his eyes sends shivers down my spine. “Your shields aren’t so well crafted they can truly keep me out. I’ll have the information I need and, when I’m rifling through your memories like so much loose paper, I’ll end our alliance. All of the monetary aid I give you to pay your bribes, and every spy I have gathering the fuel for your little rebellion will vanish with only a word from me. Can you really afford that when you’re so close to achieving your goal?”

“Can you afford to lose an entire court to Koschei?” Eris snaps. Not even the fiery, impassioned anger rising in him can smother the fear flaring in his eyes. I take a breath, swallowing against the bile rising in my throat as he continues. “Can Prythian afford even another few months of my father’s reign? He’s bleeding our court dry attempting to free Koschei, there isn’t much left for him to take. If you allow us to fall, Rhysand, it will be to the detriment of our entire country - not just one court. Nevermind the innocents that will suffer and die for the sake of your pride, what will you do when there’s a death god at your door?”

The people of Autumn have not been my people for a long, long time, but my heart aches at the thought of their loss. Those fearsome, ancient forests will burn before they yield to the might of a foreign king, and all of those orchards and fields and the people who tend them will burn as well. I could never let that happen. My blood heats at the very thought until I think I, too, may burn alive.

“It won’t have been for my pride, Eris, but your own,” Rhys says, his thumb moving in slow, soothing circles over my skin.

“No,” I murmur, my voice filled with a quiet thunder I barely recognize. It’s anger and pain and so much sorrow I think I’ll burst from it, but it’s enough to stall whatever male argument that was about to commence and ruin so many lives in the process. “This does not need to come to that. Innocent fae do not need to suffer or die for this. If you do not wish to answer my questions, Eris, no one will force you to. It’s fine. You can just leave.”

“It is not fine.” There it is, the indignant snarl of a male unwilling to lose his mate. When I look at Rhys, there’s a fear swirling amidst all of that cold anger that I’m not sure Eris would notice, but I do. I tighten my grip on his hand and do the bravest thing I can: I smile. It’s a weak, tentative thing, but it’s all I can offer.

“It is. My intention is not to be the source of more suffering. Not for even one person, let alone an entire court. The only life that is lost in his refusal is my own, which is more than enough. Autumn deserves liberation from Beron’s cruelty, whether I’m here to see it or not. Your alliance predates your knowledge of my existence, my love. I ask that you honor it.”

“What do you mean?” Eris asks, his eyes narrowing as they return to me. I shift in my seat, removing my hand from my mate’s. The Autumn heir likes knowledge and secrets and I’ve just given him something to pique his interest. He hasn’t left the table yet, there’s still a chance he’ll give me what I need. My nostrils flare as I take a deep breath and try to remain calm. The panic slowly rising in me might cause my voice to shake if I don’t keep it suppressed, but this feels like the fight of my life and I don’t want to lose. I can’t afford to.

“I mean that I don’t have the luxury of time to barter or beg for what always should have been mine,” I tell him. Something flares in the depths of his eyes, blazing like the heart of a star. Surely, my words have hit a nerve. “The spell my mother used to bind my magic seems to have gone a bit off - I suppose it’s to be expected, she’s been dead for quite some time. We’re not certain how long it’s been poisoning me, but…but there isn’t a lot of time left to stop it. And I want- no, I need it stopped. I never imagined I’d be much more than the outcast daughter of a traitor, I never thought I’d have people to care for, but I do. I do. I have a family and a life I desperately want to protect, so I am asking…I am begging you for help. Please, help me. Please.”

Rhysand’s anger sparks at the other end of our bond, blazing hotter than any Autumn fire, but I’m not too proud to beg. Not for this, not for the sake of the family they’ve welcomed me into. I’ve heard the pain of losing a mate is unspeakable, I won’t put them through it if I don’t have to. I’ll beg Eris Vanserra on my knees for his help before I let myself die now. Not when I finally have the chance to be genuinely happy.

Eris, to his credit, looks vaguely ill. His pale skin has taken on a sickly sort of pallor that makes the brown freckles on his nose and cheeks stand out like constellations splattered across his skin. The light in his eyes has dulled and, when he turns his gaze upon Rhysand, he swallows hard before he speaks again.

“There’s something new beneath this mountain.” He taps his finger against the tabletop as he speaks, the beat reminiscent of a ticking clock.

“Been talking to Keir, have you?” Rhys asks silkily, taking my hand in his once more. His fingers shake in the brief moment they press into my palm, and I make a mental note to give him a little more attention before we leave, to try to ease whatever ache my words have caused.

“No,” Eris responds bitterly, shaking his head. “I felt it earlier, like a pulse beneath my skin. Whatever you’re hiding down there, Rhysand, it wants out.”

“And it reached for you?”

“I don’t know that it reached, per se, but I felt it all the same. If it’s useful-”

“I don’t know if it’s useful. I don’t know if it can be controlled, or if it’s even worth trying to master. But if it proves to be worth more than the effort it would take to put it down, and if you can provide us with any useful information, I will see that it finds its way to you at the appropriate moment.”

After a long, quiet moment, the Autumn heir nods. Returning his attention to me, he says, “Tell me what you saw.”

So I do. I recount every moment I can pull from my, admittedly hazy, memory and watch as, with every word, his eyes take on a hollow, haunted sort of look. Something about it feels cruel, like I’m wielding my mother’s memory like a weapon to save my own skin, but I’m not just doing this for me.

“And what would you like me to say?” he asks when I’m finished. “You know what we did, you know what the price of satisfying the blood oath is. I should have paid it sooner, I meant to pay it sooner, but that hardly matters now.”

“I want to know why it had to be done at all. What did you see in me as an infant that was so dangerous it had to be locked away? I was a babe. What could have been so terrible that it warranted such drastic measures?”

“Your mother was special. We hadn’t seen a lesser faerie of her kind in an age. Her skills in healing and herbalism were unparalleled, but those weren’t the aspects of her my father coveted. Her gift of prophecy was often accurate and, truly, a useful tool for his arsenal. But it was not nearly as reliable or useful as the curses she would cast to devastating effect. She was proud and lovely and wicked in a way he found enthralling. The entire court knew of his interest in her, they once placed bets on whether he’d set my mother aside for her. He pursued her the way a fox might hunt down a rabbit. I don’t know that he necessarily expected to chase her into my bed.”

“Yet he did,” I murmur, my heart sinking like a stone. “Did you love her?”

“More than I ever believed possible.”

“Are you…?”

“No,” Eris mutters, shaking his head. “No, there was one night I was away, one night overseeing field operations alongside a captain that was due for a promotion. That was all it took. He found her working late in the healers’ office, long after the rest of them had gone to bed. My father has never been one to be refused. When she wouldn’t give him what he’d come for, he took it by force.”

I can feel my mouth fall open as my vision begins to blur. I blink furiously against a rush of hot tears as I think of my mother. She’d always possessed a bitter sort of strength, and had kept herself behind a wall of quiet, simmering anger that I’d never been able to break through. As Eris watches my face, that haunted look turns to something sharp and lethal as the flames in the hearth flare. I shudder to think of what he may do with all of that rage.

“As fierce as she was, not even your mother was a match for a High Lord,” he continues, his eyes flickering between my face and the hand Rhys clutches. Surely he can’t think my situation is anything like hers. The corner of my mate’s mouth twitches in the echo of a snarl, but he remains silent at my side. “She wasn’t able to fight him off, but she took something as well. Something her magic must have deemed of equal value to what he stole.”

“What was it?” I ask, dread softening my voice, making it so much smaller in the otherwise oppressive silence filling the room.

“My father used to fly into fits of rage when I was a boy that would rattle the trees in the forest. I remember the way the clouds would gather and the winds that would shake the walls of our home. It was one of his lesser used abilities as High Lord, since he only found it worthy of use as an intimidation tactic. But after that night? It took me a few months to realize that, no matter how irate he became, he could no longer call in a storm. Your mother and I had hoped - prayed, really - that I had been the one to sire you. But the moment I saw lightning dance at your fingertips, any hope I’d had of claiming you as my own died. It would not have taken long for my father to piece together what happened once he saw what you could do. And if he’d gotten his hands on you…you were a danger to yourself, your mother had to do something to protect you. And I would have done anything she asked. Anything. I owed her that much.”

And he had, hadn’t he? Together, they’d severed my connection to most of my power and any hope I’d had at fitting into a court that prized power above all else. I’d been a decent enough healer, nowhere near the standards my mother had set, but now I know why. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to live with it. With the knowledge that I…that I’d come from–

“And my father?” I ask. “I know that he knew I…I wasn’t his, that he agreed to- to claim me.”

“He cared enough for your mother to not wish to see her - or you - harmed. He loved her, in his own way, and I was weak enough to let her go to him. I became so consumed with my plans to assassinate my father, to get my revenge for what I thought he’d stolen from me, that I was blind to everything else. I thought, with him out of the way, I might be free to claim her as my own…and you along with her, if that’s what she wished.

“When your father and brothers offered me their support, I took it. What did I care if they were willing pawns in my game? It would have been easier to get them out of the way that way. When we were compromised and all of our plotting unraveled like so much loose thread, I let them take the fall for it. All of it. And as I lit their pyres, I watched you in the crowd, trembling like a lamb to slaughter. I had hoped you’d be frightened enough to run before I’d be forced to hunt you down.”

And I had been. I had been scared and so very alone. No one would stand at my side, lest they’d be called a traitor themselves. I’d run like a coward and resented myself for it every single day.

“Thank you for telling me,” I murmur, rising from my seat. I pull my hand from Rhysand’s, though I truly cannot feel it anymore. There’s a chill to my skin I don’t believe any fire will warm, and there’s not enough air in this room to breathe. I need to get out. I need to leave. I’m aware of Rhys speaking, though I’m not quite sure what he’s saying. I can’t hear it over the painful roaring in my head.

I only begin to shake when I leave the room. Will the shock of it all be the thing that actually kills me? I’d wanted the truth so badly, and now I know. Now I know and I feel as if it’s going to eat me alive.

Tearing down the hallway, I fling open door after door until I stumble into a bathroom and promptly heave the meager contents of my stomach into the toilet. Much like the night the poison finally eroded my mother’s binding spell, I retch and choke on foul, black bile until my muscles ache. Too much, it’s all too much. How stupid I had been to think knowing any of this would give me peace, would help me find an answer worth having. None of this is going to save me – revealing this information makes me more of a target, not less. I am little more than stolen magic in a body that should not exist, it would have been better if I’d burned with my family. I might have been more useful as kindling.

“No.” That’s Rhysand’s voice, so close I can feel his breath against the back of my neck as a hand smooths over my hair. The toilet flushes and I feel my body easing back, nestling into the curve of my mate’s like it’s what I was created for. “No, my dove, don’t think that. Don’t ever think that.”

“You said you wouldn’t read my mind,” I sniffled, crossing my arms protectively over my torso. Like that might do something to block the pain.

“You’re projecting your thoughts, my love. I can’t help it.” His lips brush against my temple, my forehead, as though it might soothe the mental anguish of the past day.

“I don’t want to see him again,” I whimper.

“You don’t have to, I promise. Feyre and I will deal with Eris. You don’t have to see him again if you don’t want to.”

“My mother, Rhys…”

“I know, darling. I know. I’m sorry.”

It’s not enough. No apology will ever be enough to fix everything that is so desperately wrong with me. My headache is no match for the pain in my chest, or the way my muscles spasm as I think of all the ways I’d like Beron Vanserra to pay for the pain he’s caused. For the life he took from my mother, and the future she might have had if she had not been saddled with me. Eventually, Rhysand’s hand cups my chin and, for a moment, I fight it. I don’t want to look at him, afraid of the pity or worry I might find in his eyes. I don’t think I can bear it.

“Look at me, Dove.” I can’t, I can’t, but then he says it again with a softness that crumbles my resolve. “Please, look at me.”

I do. And all I can see in his magnificent violet eyes is love. Love I desperately need and will probably never truly deserve, but it’s there. And it’s mine, he is mine in the way that I am his. Whatever I may have come from, I was made for this.

“Please don’t kiss me,” I mumble, lowering my arms so I can properly settle into his embrace. “I’m very sure my mouth is disgusting and we’d both regret it.”

“How can I help?” he asks, running his thumb along my jaw. “Tell me what I can do to ease some of this for you and it will be yours. Anything, all you need to do is ask.”

“And what, Rhys? You’re mine to command?”

“Always.” It’s a fervent prayer, a promise made between kisses pressed against my brow.

“I want Beron to suffer, Rhys. I want him to pay. I want him dead for what he did to her, to them, to…to everyone. I want him to bleed.”

“He will. I promise, I’ll see it done.”

“And I…” I sigh. “I want to go home now.”

“Are you sure? We can take more time here if you need it, there’s no rush.”

“I am,” I nod, resting my head on his shoulder. “I want to see Nyx and Feyre, and I want to forget this awful day for just a little while. I want us to just be together and enjoy each other until something else inevitably goes wrong - don’t laugh, you know it’s true. Every time it seems things are beginning to go well for us, something terrible happens. I just want a moment of my life that’s not tainted with grief or pain. We’re newly mated, we should be enjoying this time together. Can we do that, in spite of all of this? Can we still have that?”

“We can, we will. I believe I’ve exhausted my ability to share you for the rest of the week.”

“Feyre won’t like hearing that.”

“Feyre is one of two exceptions,” Rhys murmurs, briefly tightening his grip on me. “And I don’t know that I’ll ever mind sharing you with her.”

“Let’s go home then.” Everything we’ve learned here has waited this long, it can all be dealt with later. Once we’ve all had time to breathe. And to plan. "I'm ready to see our mate."

#chasing starlight #rhysand x reader #feyre x reader #rhys x feyre x reader #(is my heart breaking and shattered on the floor ? yes)#(goodness this is all so tragic)#(is of bad that I feel sorry for Eris too? because I really do)#(also DEATH TO BERON AS SOON AS POSSIBLE)

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goldenmagnolias · 20 days

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones 12.5 [Bonus Scene]

Author’s Note: This bonus scene would take place around the beginning of chapter 12 as Eris x Iris have started to get to know each other and spend more time together.

shoutout of @abruisedmuse ily for letting me get all SMTB brainrot on you <3

Find it all here.

Eris cleared his throat and breathed deeply before plastering a smirk on his face and knocking on his little brother’s front door.

It took a moment before Lucien opened the door with a blink and then quirked his brow.

“Eris.”

“Lucien.”

“To what do I owe this great pleasure, brother of mine?” Lucien asked as he stepped aside and gestured for Eris to step in.

“As much as I cherish seeing your adorable little face, I’m actually here for your wife.” Eris said, the corner of his mouth turning up. “Elain?!”

Lucien closed the door behind them with an eye roll and followed his brother. “She’s in the garden out back,” he replied dryly. “What do you need from her? Having more wife troubles?”

Eris paused, causing Lucien to knock into him, and turned to glare at his little brother. “I don’t have wife troubles. I would simply like to see my little sister and discuss with her how she’s doing.”

“And ask her about your wife troubles.”

Eris’s glare intensified. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Lucien only smiled. “Pillow barricade still there?”

“The thing you speak of doesn’t exist.”

“Ah, that means it’s still there,” Lucien said, nodding knowingly. “She’s not wooed by your endless charms?”

“She is wooed just fine,” Eris mumbled, scowling. “Mind your business. You’ve barely been mated. Need I remind you of your pining, little brother?”

“Need I remind you that it was mutual and how we’ve been happily mated and married for two years already, big brother?” Lucien replied with an easy smile. “Just admit you’re a terrible husband with no game and I’ll be more than happy to help you.”

“I don’t need your help, you fool,” Eris said with a light shove. “Your mate is the smarter one of you both so if, and this is a big if, I needed assistance with the so-called wife troubles, which I do not have, I would ask Elain.”

Lucien’s mouth slowly turned into a smirk, and then he snorted. “Wow, you must be really terrible in bed.”

It was Eris’s turn to roll his eyes. “It took you two years to get your mate to even talk to you but now you have the nerve to talk about my bedroom skills.”

“You keep deflecting, big brother,” Lucien said with a sigh. “As if you don’t know the exact circumstances of my mate and I. You, on the other hand, must truly be terrible in the bedroom and outside of it for your wife troubles to be this severe. Your visits have increased, I see.”

Eris scoffed. “So? I can’t visit unless I need something? Do you want me to stop visiting?”

“Couldn’t stop you even if I tried,” Lucien said with a laugh. “But we both know you don’t miss me as much as you miss Elain — which I don’t appreciate.”

“Are you jealous of your wife because I like her more than I like you, brother dear?” Eris said with a sarcastic smile.

Lucien rolled his eyes. “No, I just don’t see why she has to deal with your whining constantly. Go whine to your own wife.”

Eris’s smile immediately turned into a scowl as the tip of his ears heated. “Leave my wife out of this.”

“And you wonder why my immediate assessment is how terrible you must be in the sack.” Lucien said with a snort then held up a hand before Eris could reply and asked him with his most serious expression, “You…do know where the clitoris is, right?”

A heartbeat passed and Eris did the only logical thing he could think to do — swing his fist at Lucien’s face.

Lucien ducked with a laugh. “Are you truly swinging at me in my own home?”

“I will break your nose if you say anything else that’s stupid.” Eris seethed.

“You sure your hand will handle punching me? It must be so hard on you after all your alone time. I’m surprised your hand isn’t constantly cramping.”

“I’m sure you’re very familiar with what a cramping hand and limp dick must be like since you had to deal with it for so long.”

Lucien grinned. “I never said anything about a limp dick but now you’re really pulling my sympathies, Eris. Your situation is far worse than I had predicted.” he said and with a most sincere expression, Lucien put a hand over his heart and added, “I’m so sorry for your condition, brother. I’m sure a healer can help.”

Eris snarled and before Lucien could stop him, pulled him in a headlock that quickly turned into Lucien ramming his fist into Eris’s side which would have turned into a downright brawl had light footsteps not entered the room and a throat cleared.

Eris and Lucien both froze, their limbs intertwined as they turned their heads to find Elain standing with hands on her hips and a raised brow.

“Really?” was all she asked then gestured with her hand, exasperated. “Untangle yourselves. Now.”

Shooting each other a glare, the two brothers shoved away from each other.

“Ugly git.”

“Slimy asshole.”

“Rude behavior.” Elain added and held out her hands. “Every time? Every single time?”

“Your husband is very rude.”

“He was being mean to me!”

Elain rolled her eyes. “You’re both mean to each other. I thought we talked about this, hm? Got past it?”

“He talked about my wife!”

“Lucien!” Elain scolded.

“He made fun of our two years of pining!”

“Eris!”

“You walked right into that one, Lucien.”

“You’re the one that started talking about limp dicks, Eris.”

Elain blinked then glanced up towards the ceiling. “Grant me patience, gods,” she mumbled. “Lucien, weren’t you in the middle of something?”

“Yes, I was, my love. I merely wanted to give my big brother a warm welcome,” he said with a grin that Eris responded to with a glare. “Make yourself right at home, limp dick. I can’t wait to give Iris my sympathies in person soon.”

“Oh fuck you.” Eris replied and glared at Lucien’s back as he leaned down to kiss Elain then waltzed out of the room, his middle finger waving goodbye from the air.

“Why are you married to him again?” Eris mumbled as Elain gave him a knowing look and walked over to him.

“Because he has great hair.” she replied with a smile and promptly wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

“Great hair doesn’t make up for how annoying he is,” Eris replied even as a small smile found its way to his lips, and hugged his little sister in return, squeezing her tight. “How are you, little acorn?”

“Is everyone little to you?” she said with a laugh and pulled away to look at him. “Little acorn, little Lucien, little gazelle?”

At the knowing look Elain gave him, Eris’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed. “I...am having a hard time.”

Elain blinked innocently. “A hard time? I thought it was the opposite problem you were having?”

Eris scowled immediately and Elain giggled. “Your mate is a terrible influence.”

“We both know who the real terrible influence is,” she said with a grin then tugged on his elbow. “Come on back to the garden so we can discuss this in private.”

“You say private when Lucien clearly knows too much already,” Eris mumbled and let Elain drag him outside. “You said you wouldn’t tell him anything.”

“To be fair, I don’t have to tell him. He’s picked up on it and despite the aggressively childish behavior between you two, he cares about you a lot,” she said with a chuckle. “He likes to check in and make sure you’re okay.”

“Or just make fun of me,” Eris grumbled. “He listens in from some open window, doesn’t he?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Elain said brightly and gestured for him to take a seat by the garden.

Eris sulked momentarily, watching as Elain slipped her gloves back on. He pursed his lips and debated saying anything. It wasn’t like anything major had happened. But…

“So.” Elain began carefully, eyeing him. “Did you find out what her favorite flowers are?”

“Carnations. She likes them all but red ones are her favorite.”

Elain blinked then gave him a sly smile. “Do you know what red carnations symbolize?”

“It’s the color of my blood soaking the pillow when she slits my throat.” He deadpanned and Elain shot him a withering look.

“Could you not?”

Eris gave a long-suffering sigh. “What does it mean, Elain?” he asked dully, and Elain chuckled, throwing a weed at him.

“Love.” she sang. “And affection.”

Eris blinked then snorted. “That does not apply here.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know my wife.”

“You’re barely getting to know your wife.”

“But I still know her more than you do at the moment.”

“Sure, but do you know her heart?” she said and batted her eyelashes with a wide smile that immediately had Eris snorting.

“It’s as cold as mine.”

“Well, someone drank his dramatic juice this morning.” she said with an eye roll and Eris scowled. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” he said rather defensively. “I just…”

Elain paused her digging to raise a brow.

“I don’t… like feelings.”

Elain laughed. “No. I would’ve never noticed.”

“Elain.” he said through gritted teeth, crushing the weed in his hand.

“Eris.” his sister-in-law replied with a sweet smile, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

“If you make fun of me, I won’t share things with you.”

“I can call Lucien and have you share things with him instead if you’d like.”

“I would much rather die, thank you very much.”

Elain laughed again and Eris’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

“You know, feelings are a part of relationships. A big part, actually.”

Eris sighed. “I know. I still don’t like them.”

“So how are you sharing your interest if you don’t like having or sharing feelings?”

“I’m mostly irresistibly annoying.” he said with his best charming smile and Elain snorted. “Though she is very mean to me in return.”

Elain rolled her eyes and threw another weed at him. “So, you two had your big talk. You’re spending more time together. You seem to be flirting up a storm. What’s the issue?”

Eris pursed his lips and twirled the stem in his hands. It took him a moment before he finally answered. “I…am not sure,” he said. “I am nervous. This makes me nervous. She makes me nervous.”

His sister-in-law only chuckled softly, her hands busy in the dirt though her eyes flickered back up to him. “Is it because it’s going well? You’re not used to it, and it makes you skittish?”

“Used to what, exactly?”

“Someone spending time with you without some scheme or ulterior motive involved,” she replied with an eye roll. “You’re not used to spending time with people who aren’t doing the same.”

Eris’s face heated and he ran his tongue across his teeth. “Well, you didn’t have to say it like that.”

“Why don’t you throw her over your shoulder and show her how you're really feeling?” Elain said with a sly grin and Eris’s brows shot up.

“Elain, so scandalous of you to suggest such a thing.”

“Every wife likes to be swept off her feet.” she said firmly and gave him a superior look. “Don’t tell me you’ve been kissing your wife without some kind of grand sweeping gesture?”

Eris pursed his lips again and looked away, eyes focused on the dirt to hide his expression. Sure, he shared some things, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to say anything about the nonexistent physical relationship he had with his wife.

He craved a kiss. Eris was dying to know the feeling of her lips on his. But he wouldn’t push. Not this. He would work at her pace even if he killed him.

Even if he jerked himself to death. Which seemed very likely at the moment.

“It’s not like that between us.” he said quietly and finally gazed back at his sister-in-law who was giving him a small knowing smile. “She’s not comfortable enough yet so we have been taking it very slow.”

“And is that what’s making you nervous? Taking it slow when you’re used to running through everything?”

Eris shrugged. She was getting too good at reading him, almost as good as his own mother, and Eris wasn’t sure he was supposed to like that feeling so much.

Elain straightened and slipped her gloves off before sliding next to him and tapping his hand.

“You know, I’ve always thought you had more to you than meets the eye.” she began softly. “And getting to know you better, watching you build a stronger relationship with Lucien…as much as you like to pretend otherwise, you have a big ‘ole softy hiding in here that’s trying to come out.” she said and tapped his chest, right over his heart.

Eris promptly wanted to assassinate himself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he mumbled, scowling immediately and Elain rolled her eyes.

“I think Iris is the person you need to share that with the most and I think it makes you nervous that you desperately want to.”

Eris scoffed and looked away, his scowl deepening as the tips of his ears reddened. “I don’t desperately want to.”

“Gods Eris, you’re so desperate you positively reek of it.” Elain said with a laugh and Eris shot her a glare. “I think it’s hilarious and oh so wonderful. Besides —“ she paused to give him a stern look. “I may not know Iris just yet, but I do know flowers and their language. When someone has a favorite flower in a specific color, it’s usually because they are drawn to those things.”

Eris felt his face twitch. He wouldn’t read into it. They were just flowers.

“Why am I even listening to you? You married Lucien. Your judgment is clearly skewed.” he said with a childish pout and Elain immediately shoved him with her elbow.

“Don’t talk about my love like he's anything but perfect.”

“He’s my brother and he’s very ugly.”

“It must be so hard for you to deal with Lucien being so much more attractive than you are.” Elain said with a sweet smile that was anything but sweet. “How terrible it must be for you to be living in his shadow constantly.”

It was Eris’s turn to roll his eyes. He pushed her face away with his hand gently, earning him a yelp of protest. “No one is more attractive than I am but since you’re delusional, I’ll allow you this error in judgment.”

“I bet Iris thinks you’re very attractive, doesn’t she?”

“When she’s not too busy trying to stab me during our training sessions, she finds me downright delicious.” he said with a smug smile and Elain laughed again, shoving him.

“You’re so full of yourself, no wonder you’re too nervous to be nice around her. How will you function without all that ego?”

“It’s part of my charm.”

“But, of course.” she said then shook her head with a sigh, standing. “Come on you lovesick fool, let’s make you a nice bouquet so you can take it with you to impress your wife.”

“I am not a lovesick fool.” he immediately protested. “I barely even like her.”

“Oh really? Who is the delusional one now?” she said with a knowing look and Eris scowled as she tugged him along with her. “The flowers are a good step towards showing your feelings. You can keep it up from there.”

He scowled further. “But that still makes me nervous.”

“It’s good you're nervous. It means you care.”

“Of course I care.” he replied faster than he could stop himself. “She’s my wife.”

Elain smiled at him warmly and patted his arm. “Then I think a lovely bouquet of red carnations will be just the thing to show it. We wouldn’t want you to lay it on too thick now, would we?”

Eris gave her a small reluctant smile. “No, we can’t have that.”

And so, he followed her through her garden silently, watching as Elain mindfully picked out her best carnations. He knew Iris would like it and tried to clamp down on the smile attempting to escape him just thinking about her face lighting up when he handed it to her. She seemed to enjoy that he had flowers delivered regularly now but hadn't given her one directly yet. It should be perfect.

As Elain picked out another flower, Eris softly added, “She likes peonies too. I think the pink ones would look good with the red carnations.”

Elain paused and turned back to him with a grin. “Oh? And do you know what those symbolize?”

Eris rolled his eyes with another small smile. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.”

She laughed then elbowed him gently. “They symbolize happy marriage, good luck, and prosperity.”

Eris blinked and squinted at Elain’s too knowing of a smile. Running his tongue over his teeth, he waved a hand, his cheeks heating slightly as he looked away from her and said all too quietly, “Throw in more of those. I’ll take all the luck I can get."

#fic: spirit meets the bones #chapter XII.V #eris vanserra #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien #eris vanserra x oc

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