mirandasidefics

[mirandasidefics]

Redoing a picture I did of Lucien last year. I thought it would be fun to see how different it looks now. Also, Lucien described in leathers, with a ponytail down his back, blood splattered on his face, was the hottest thing in ACOTAR series hands down.

[mirandasidefics]

Out of my mind

Summery: Part 2 of “Out Of My Control”

Disclaimer: I give no rights for my work to be replicated, adapted, translated or used for any means. If you have questions please feel free to message me.

A special thanks to @mirandasidefics for inspiring me with her own writing and her book theories that are just as unhinged as my own. Go read her fics on her page, they are amazing!

Reader POV

My apartment has never felt so quiet. Quiet enough that I can hear the people laughing at the tavern down the street. Quiet enough that I can hear the female playing the piano two stories below and the couple making love three stories above. I sigh and roll over in bed letting the cool night breeze from the open window cool me off.

He’s gone…

He’s gone and I’m the reason. I could’ve done more, I could’ve, should’ve, put up with Vena for us, for him.

I broke things off 10 days ago. For the first week he knocked at my door, came to my work, brought me flowers and begged, begged on his knees, for me to give him another chance. To which I told him that he needed no other chance. I told him he did nothing wrong.

“Vena doesn’t like me, Lucien. Have you thought that maybe that’s a sign? Kids can tell these things; when people aren’t good.”

“And you’re not good?” His eyes shine with tears.

“Maybe I’m not…” my voice cracks and I try to shut the door. He puts his foot in the way.

“I love you, (Y/N). And I’m not letting you go.”

“Please don’t make this harder for me-”

“For you? FOR YOU?! I got on my knees and begged you to stay. I told you I love you and that’s not enough. What do I have to do? What do I have to offer-”

“You’re not the one who has what we need to make this work,” more tears. From me… from him…

“I’ll talk to her-”

“That hasn’t worked the past 12 months.”

“I love you.”

“It’s not enough… not long term” a guttural sob breaks free from him and he leans on my door frame, chest shaking. My hand goes up to reach for his face instinctively but I stop myself.

“If I can make her like you… will- will you come back to me?”

“You can’t make her do anything. And the more you try to force it the more she’ll likely hate me. She’s your sister, she’s your whole world. Do this for her. One day you’ll find someone and she’ll love her too, and you’ll know she’s the one. Vena deserves a big sister that she loves.” It’s the truth. And it hurts, burns my throat like bile as it comes out but still; it’s the truth.

He nods, standing straight and running a hand over his face, pushing both palms onto his tear-lined eyes. “You don’t get it…” he sighs. “She isn’t my whole world anymore,” he looks down and we stand there a second until a sob comes from my lips and I close the door, locking it and sitting down against it. I don’t hear his footsteps walk away by the time I fall asleep on the floor.

I cry at the memory and go use the bathroom.

The first day after I ended things was spent in bed crying. The second, I spend scrubbing away his scent from my apartment; washing beddings and scrubbing down the bathroom and kitchen, even letting the fireplace burn bright despise the warm weather just to attempt at burning the scent away… but it lingers. Maybe it’s a trick of my own mind at this point but I still scent him everywhere.

When I come back I’m startled by something jumping in through my window. I yelp as a dirty, chunky cat looks at me. It has beautiful green eyes and doesn’t seem agitated so I crouch and reach my hand out not too close, allowing it to come to me. The cat takes its time but comes close enough to sniff my hand and that’s when I notice that it’s wet. In the dark room it’s hard to tell what it’s covered in so I take it to the bathroom and find that it’s covered in mud. I take the rugs out of the bathroom and lock the door, I fill the tub as the cat tries to lick itself clean. It’s docile as I trim its nails and only fights when I try to put it in the tub.

After a while of trying to climb out and get away it accepts its fate as I soap up its coat and rinse it off. It behaves besides some pained meows and a displeased look on its face. Once it’s clean I can tell that it’s a female, gray tabby. She sits by the fireplace to dry off as I try to find something it can eat. I put out a bowl with water and defrost some salmon since I’m out of tuna. I lay out some towels but I doubt it’ll know that’s where it’s supposed to release itself. I yawn as I spot the chubby lady by the fireplace, sleeping. She seems so docile… I wonder why it’s out on the streets, no collar but so obviously not an alley cat, not in this court. I decide to make that tomorrow’s problem and head to bed.

The next day I wake up early, curtesy of the big cat deciding to lay down on top of my face and stop my breathing. I go out to buy cat supplies once I decide my attempts to fall back asleep are truly futile, and ultimately deciding to keep the furry thing as my new companion. I get food and cat litter and dishes and I make sure the set up is good enough in my apartment before going to work.

I haven’t seen Lucien in six days when he decides to show up at my work during my lunch. “Lucien-”

He puts a hand up, “I know,” he sits in front of me. “I- I’m running out of things to say, (Y/N).”

“Then stop talking. We both know this won’t work and you coming to see me only hurts us both.”

“I know.”

“Then what do you want?” I mentally kick myself as my voice wavers.

“I want you in my life. I know it’s stupid and it’ll probably do more harm than good but I miss you. Not just because I love you but I miss your personality; the dark humor, the knowledge in that big brain, all your little fun facts and books and crafts and… I can’t quit you cold turkey.”

“What do you want?” I repeat.

“Company. Your company.”

I take a deep breath, weighing the possibility, “no.”

“(Y/N),” he gets ready to make another point but I stop him.

“I have to quit you cold turkey, because if I don’t… I’ll be an addict forever.” First I see sadness, then rage in his eyes as he slams his palm on the table and stands up, leaving. I put my lunch away and head back into the darkness of the library, having lost my appetite.

Lucien POV

I’m so steamed up that all I see is red all the way to the palace. I head to my studies, hoping everyone will leave me alone but as I round a corner Vena is once again running from her governess and towards me, a big smile on her face. “Lushy! You’re back! You’re back! Where’d you go?”

“Not now Vena, I have work to do.”

She looks confused and follows me, “ooo! Can I help? I’m a good helper! You always say so!”

“Not now Vena, I’ll call you later and we can play.”

“Oh! I learned something new today! Did you know that flowers-”

“VENA! I said not now!” I shout and immediately regret it as big, fat tears fill her eyes and her lips wobble. She looks down and runs away down the hall.

Shit.

I rub my face before following after her, “Vena? I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell.” I keep walking, following the scent of her vanilla shampoo. I hear sniffling coming from a slightly open door.

“He yelled at me, papa! Lushy never yells!” She cries.

“Lucien is under a lot of stress lately, cut him some slack. People do and say things they don’t mean when they have so many negative feelings going on.”

“It’s that witch! She made him sad!”

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah! Her! She made Lushy sad and now he’s yelling at me.”

“Why do you think she made him sad? She hasn’t been around in weeks.”

“Because… because… because she’s a witch!” Vena huffs and even though I can’t see her I know she’s crossing her arms and pouting.

“Morning Star.” My father, ever soft spoken, says, “why do you think she’s a witch?”

“Because she is.”

“Ok, but besides that?”

There’s a long pause before Vena starts speaking, her voice soft and sad, “because she put a spell on Lushy. She made him not like me anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” My father chuckles, “your brother loves you more than anything!”

“Not more than her. He stopped wanting to play with me and every time we were together he’d talk about her. I just want my big brodda back, papa. I miss Lushy before he met that witch.”

“Your brother loves you both. But in different ways. But that doesn’t mean he loves you any less just because he loves her. And you want to know a secret?”

“What, papa?”

“I promised your mother I wouldn’t tell you so you have to promise me that you’ll be a big girl and understand what I’m about to say, ok?”

“Yes, papa?”

My father sighs, “(Y/N) stopped coming around because her and Lucien aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend anymore.”

“Good. He got rid of her for good.”

“You said you’d be a big girl, Vena.”

“Sowy, papa. Keep going.”

“He didn’t get rid of her. She ended things with him.”

“Why? Lushy’s the best!” She gaps.

“Because she felt like she was getting in between you and him.”

“Well, she was…”

“No, Vena. She wasn’t. And I need you to be a big girl and understand that. You were mean and rude to that young female and you made her feel unwelcome, that’s not what us Spellclevers do. She felt so unwelcome that she left. And now your brother is heart broken.”

She gasps, “she broke his heart?”

“No, Vena. You broke his heart.”

A few seconds pass before she answers, “oh…so… I hurt Lushy by making (Y/N) wanna go away forever?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“If she’s gone… Why isn’t Lushy back to normal? If she’s not around then he can’t love her. So he should be my best big brodda again.”

“Love doesn’t go away with distance or time, Vena. I loved your mother for more than 500 years. I didn’t speak, write or see her for most of that time, yet my heart belonged to her. And nothing and no one else could or can change that. But just because I love your mother so fiercely, doesn’t mean I don’t love you, or Lucien.”

“So you can split up your love?”

He chuckles again, “no, my dearest. Love can never be split. It can only spread, and there’s no limit how much it can grow.”

“I think I understand, papa. But if that’s true… then I hurt Lushy… real bad.”

“I’m afraid you did, darling.”

She cries, “but I don’t wanna hurt him, papa! How do I make it right?”

“You can start by giving him time to calm down. Then maybe you can draw him one of your beautiful pictures and apologize.”

She didn’t say anything else and all I hear are the crackles of the fire in my father’s study. I silently make my way to my office and think about what I just heard, preparing myself to accept her apology even though I know it will change nothing. It’s done. She’s gone and Vena’s apology won’t change the fact that she doesn’t like (Y/N) one bit.

Reader’s POV

This cat will be the death of me. It’s eating 5 cans of tuna a day and it insists on sleeping in bed with me and I’ll wake up in the middle of the night as it lays on my face and suffocates me. At this point I don’t know if it loves me or if it’s trying to murder me.

I gasp for air, pushing the fur ball off my face. I glare at her and stir, looking outside as the dawn breaks. One year… today would’ve been a year. My vision blurs at the thought and I stare at the ceiling and let my tears flow. It’s my day off anyway, I can sulk today.

A knocking at the door interrupts my sulking and I hold my breath, hoping whoever it is will think I’m either out or sleeping and go away but the knocking continues, rapid and persistent. After about three minutes I give up and go see who it is, “coming!” I roll out of bed and put on my robe, padding to the door and opening it; no one.

“Down here!”

I look down and there stands Venus. Venus?! “What are you doing here?!”

“I need to talk to you,” she shrugs like it’s the most normal thing in the world, the backpack she carries shaking with the movement. She walks in like she owns the place. “Do you know how long it took me to get here? And why do you live so high up? By the way, your front door doesn’t lock; the one downstairs to get into the building.”

“I- I know Venus,” I close the door. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

“No,” she shrugs off her little leather backpack, tossing it up and onto the island then tries climbing up the bar chair, I end up helping her and she huffs.

“How did you find me?” I pour her a glass of water and she takes it with both hands, drinking half of it. She reaches for her backpack and pulls out a large canteen.

“Can you fill this, please?” I comply, filling it and handing it back to her.

“How did you find me?” I repeat.

She smirks, the little devil. “I told my governess I wanted to send you a letter so we walked here this afternoon and I left it in the mailbox. I just wanted to know how to come here so I could come alone.”

“And why did you want to come here, exactly?”

“Because Lushy is sad and I don’t like it! And you have to fix it.”

I sigh. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?!” She demands, pouting and crossing her arms.

“Lucien and I broke up for a good reason. And I can’t go back on it.” She pouts and mumbles something, “what?” She mumbles again, “I don’t know what you’re-”

“I’m sorry, okay?!” She huffs and looks away.

“You’re… sorry? For what?”

“Papa talked to me about why Lushy’s been so angry and sad… I’m sorry I was mean. And I’m sorry I pulled your hair… and pushed you… and put ants in your purse.”

“That was you?!”

“I said sorry!”

I sigh. This changes nothing. She’s here because Helion talked to her, not because she’s ok with me and Lucien being together. “Thank you for apologizing, Venus. I appreciate it. Now let’s get you home.”

“No!” She climbs down from the bar chair and goes to the sofa, climbing up and laying down on it. “I’ve been walking for hours! My legs are tiny still, it took me forever to get here.”

“Don’t you think they’ll be worried about you?”

“I left a-” She gasps and practically rolls off the sofa and makes a bee line for my new furry friend. “I didn’t know you had a kitty!” The cat meows, annoyed as Venus hugs it.

“She wandered in through the window a few days ago.”

Venus pets the cat and pulls it to her lap, her little legs spreading to make room for the cat to lay between them.

“What’s her name?”

“I haven’t thought of one yet…” I get up and make coffee, “you wanna eat something?”

“Yes please! I ate all the cookies I took from the kitchen on my way here.”

I make her a little plate of crackers and cheese and pour her some orange juice. By the time I go to tell her the snack is ready she’s pulled out bows from her own hair and put it on my cat. The furry thing looks at me with an unimpressed expression and meows in a way that feels like it’s begging for help. “Venus, come eat.” She starts to pick up my cat to bring with her, “leave the cat.”

“Aweee,” she puts the cat down and comes to eat, and this time doesn’t fuss when I help her up onto the bar stool.

About an hour later later she falls asleep with a death grip on the cat that still looks the pinnacle of boredom. I untangle her little hands for the kitty and pick her up, gathering her things and slugging her back onto my shoulders. I walk her all the way back to the Day Court Palace. It’s about a mile and a half from my apartment to the palace. I can make it in about thirty minutes at a leisurely pace, but I can’t imagine how long it took Venus and her little legs.

Once I make it to the gates the guards pull Venus off me, taking her pack and my own bag too. They escort me to Helion’s office and I’m sure the only reason they didn’t cuff me was because I complied and they knew my history with Lucien.

(Helion’s office, soon after)

Helion sighs as he sits in his office chair, “what happened?”

“Didn’t your guards tell you?” My eyes are on my feet.

“All they said is they saw you approaching the palace with Vena sleeping on your shoulder. We woke up panicked today when we couldn’t find her.”

“She snuck out and came to my apartment.”

“How-”

“I don’t know. She said she tricked her governess into taking her there today to drop off an apology letter. Once she knew where it was she could go by herself.”

The High Lord rubs his face in desperation, “what did she want?”

“She wanted to say she was sorry for all the things she pulled…. And she wanted me to make Lucien happy again.” I swallow the lump in my throat, eyes down cast.

“(Y/N) I’m so sorry. I think I’m partially to blame for this; I told her she had to make things right and apologize to her brother but… Vena always has her own plans.” I nod and then silence. “You’re free to go, it was truly a pleasure to see you again.”

I nod. I can feel my nose go red and the sight of my shoes blurts as tears fill my eyes.

Helion rises from his chair and hugs me, at the contact I sob, “I’m sorry.”

“For what, my dear?”

“For everything… I had no business going out with your son in the first place and now… there’s this mess.”

“You have every right to date my son. And he has every right to love you,” I sob again and hold his arm as he hugs me while I’m sitting in the chair. “Which he does. Deeply.”

Once I gather my bearings I leave the palace as Helion looks after me with a pained look. I walk quickly through the halls I’ve become so familiar with, hoping I won’t bump into Lucien. I spend the rest of my day off walking through the park, picking up more tuna and eating junk food on the sofa.

The hardest part is the numbness. All emotions just remind me of him, as if my soul has completely intertwined itself with his in the short time we knew each other. But now everything is hollow, and I have no energy left, no strength to feel those things now.

I fall asleep in the tub and only wake up when I hear a thud come from the bedroom, I look out the window and it is pitch black outside. I register the freezing water a second later and get out.

Another thud.

What the fuck? I wrap a towel around myself and curse colorfully at not having brought any clothes into the bathroom with me. I pull the plug on the drain and open the cabinet door under the sink, pulling out a dagger; Lucien insisted on teaching basic self defense and part of that, apparently, was keeping a dagger in easy reach yet hidden in every room. I open the door and try my best to remember everything Lucien taught me, still very aware of the fact that I’m in a towel.

I round the corner and there’s no one in the living room or kitchen.

“In here,” Vena. I hear her voice call me from the bedroom. This little female is going to make me go out of my mind!

I stomp over and turn on the light, “what. Are you doing here?! Do you know that they dragged me to your father this morning? Is this another one of your jokes? Cause if it is this isn’t funny, Venus. I’m not with your brother anymore! Leave me alone!” I stomp off to put the dagger back in its place. I count to five and walk back to the room where Venus is laying down a cat bed and blankets. “What are you doing?”

“Your kitty is pregnant, dum dum!” She doesn’t even look at me and keeps making the bed. Oh… that makes sense.

“How do you know?”

“Don’t you know anything about animals?”

“Some… not really.”

“Papa’s prize Pegasus and his mate are having a baby. Papa’s been teaching me about animals and their babies and cat is showing all the signs of getting ready for having kittens.” She says, matter of factly.

“I appreciate it Venus but you’re not supposed to be here.”

“I wasn’t done this morning,” she crosses her arms. “I just fell asleep. But I brought coffee this time so that won’t happen again.”

“You’re not supposed to drink coffee.”

She simply shrugs and focuses and making the cat bed. “I want a truce.”

“A truce?”

She nods, curls bouncing. “Yep. I’ll try to like you better if you make Lushy happy again by being his lady friend.” She finishes the cat bed and turns to me, hands on hips.

“Why?”

She looks down and wrings her hands together, “cause I love Lushy. And I know that I need to share him now.” The little female closes her eyes, like this confession hurts her. I take a few steps closer and kneel down in front of her.

“Venus?”

“Yeah?” Her eyes still closed, hands still clasped tightly together.

“Can I hug you?” Her eyes shoot open and she looks at me, searching for any evil.

“Ok.” I don’t waste a second, scooping her into my arms and holding her like a babe. I hold her for a while until she hugs me back. I don’t realize she’s crying until I hear her broken voice. “Lushy yelled at me.”

“What?”

“He yelled… he’s been so angry since you went away… so sad. I want my brodda to be happy and I talked to papa, and I know that if I don’t like you then Lushy won’t be happy.” She hiccups over my shoulder, “but I don’t like you. You stole my Lushy away and I don’t like it at all! Papa said that love grows when you love more people but it’s like you stole all his love away! All he would talk about when we played was you!”

I cut in as she takes a breath, “he talked about you to me nonstop too, you know? He would always tell me how smart and kind you were, how you were creative and too clever for your own good. You make him so proud, Venus. And no matter what he’ll always be your brother. I can’t change that as much as I can’t change the stars in the sky.” She cries a while longer, once the smell of salt passes I continue, “I love your brother. And if you’re willing to form a truce then I’ll consider being with him again, but no more pranks, ok?” She simply nods. “Maybe we can find common ground?”

She pulls away and wipes her face, “what’s that?”

I stand to find tissues, “thing we both like. I like to read and paint and do crafts. I like ice cream and breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. Tell me some things you like.”

She sits on the floor in front of me, legs out and hands stretching to grip her covered feet. “Hmmm… my favorite color is purple but I also like green. I like to draw too and I like ice cream; cookie dough. My favorite meal time is dinner and I’m still learning to read but I like it when mama, papa or Lushy reads to me.” She smiles, accomplished.

“What kind of stories do you like?”

“Papa reads to me about animals, Lushy tells me stories of his adventures in the courts but my favorites are mama’s stories! She reads me stories about pirates and sword fights and damsels in distress! About rats the size of dogs and swaps so dangerous no one can pass through!” She vibrates with excitement, “stories about true love! My favorite is the Buttercup story!”

I chuckle, “I don’t think I’ve heard of it.”

“Oooo! Mama will tell ya! She likes telling that one.”

I smile, “wanna hear one of my favorites?” She nods. “It’s a story I heard long ago but never forgot. Let’s get comfy,” we get snacks and I get her settled on the bed with me and then I start. “Once upon a time, in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess, who loved her kingdom… very much….”

(Hours later)

Venus fell asleep deep into the story. She held out longer than I thought she would. But that story is long and I do not blame her. Once I was sure she was in a deep enough sleep, I once again gathered her things and set off to the palace. The guards didn’t drag me to Helion this time, the High Lord was up and simply summoned as they saw my approach.

“Again?” He sighs as he takes Venus and her pack from me.

“Yes, but this time went well… she wants to form a truce.”

“A truce?”

I nod. “I’ll be with Lucien again and she’ll be kind to me. We found some common ground and dare I say we even bonded a little.” I flush, the notion still foreign.

Helion simply smiles and kisses his daughter’s hair. “It’ll be nice having you around again, (Y/N).”

“Thank you,” I smile bright.

“Would you like me to summon Lucien for you? I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to-“

“No!” I cut him off, “no. No… I- I still have to think of what to say. Can I come by tomorrow morning before work?”

The High Lord of the Day Court looks amused as he chuckles and puts a hand on my shoulder, “you can come by at whatever time you’d like, dear.”

It’s no secret where Lucien gets his charm. I smile up at Helion and nod, “I’ll be seeing you real soon then.”

“I hope so, good night.” He takes Venus inside as I wave goodbye and turn to head home. How the Hel am I going to talk to Lucien? How do I unsay all I said? I made it so clear that I wanted nothing more to do with him. Told him to go, that I didn’t even want his company…

Fuck.

I get home, shower off the stress, feed my cat and plop down in bed.

Tags: @stressed-reader @owned-by-tiny-velociraptors @nana-nana2 @fantasydreamer420 @tele86 @havenhavoc @sophia-grace2025 @gamarancianne @browneyedbrunette101 @jaybbygrl

[mirandasidefics]

Helion caughr us, OKAY TIME TO RUN FROM HIM!!

Helion may be scary, but I don't see him as the type that would become a threat to Reader. If that were the case, Lucien would not have left her there and instead would have reached out to Rhysand in some way for assistance.

However, Reader and Lucien do have a lot of explaining and apologizing to do.

[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere-Chapter 15

Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader, and Ruhn Dannan x Plus Size Reader.

Summary: You and Lucien visit the Day Court for the seventh time. Helion brings the two of you to the oldest library known to Prythian where you discover something that had been left lost to time.

Word Count: 7.8 K

Warnings: Mentions of self harm and poor body image.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry that this chapter took so long. There has been so much going on in my personal life that has made it a bit difficult to find the motivation to write. I am working through it though as I am determined to finish this story. I have about half of the next chapter written and it will be a long one. I really appreciate everyone sticking with this story.

As always, a HUGE thank you to my beta reader @ronibartender for all her help!

Series Masterlist Divider by @/tsunami-of-tears

Previous: Bonus Chapter 2-Bryce POV Next: Chapter 16

A month passed by quickly and you were again without the Starborn heir. You tried to keep yourself distracted from the sinking feeling the empty bed brought upon you. Luckily, you had an amazing friend capable of relieving any negative and oppressive feelings. Within minutes of Ruhn leaving for Midgard, Lucien swept you away to what you were certain had to be your favorite place in Prythian. The Day Court was so vastly different from the Night Court. The shining warmth was so comforting and in many ways seemed to remind you of home.  

You had especially grown to love the summers in the Day Court. The gentle breezes that built up into large thunderstorms. The scent of the large citrus groves filled your and Lucien’s room. Which is where you currently found yourself; lounging on the bed, head tilted and resting on your folded hands. The white linens clung to your sweat soaked skin. The approaching storm had only accomplished raising the humidity of the open air room.  You laid there, eyes closed, listening to Lucien’s soft baritone as he read to you. You would never grow tired of his voice, and had it not been for the rising humidity you could listen to him read for hours. 

Groaning, you turned on to your back,  the cotton sheet rippling off you as a gust of wind blew in from the balcony. “It’s too humid!” Turning your head, you looked up at him from your position on the bed. The warm breeze continued its soft assault as your hair and large loose t-shirt, a gift from Hunt, smacked you relentlessly in the face. The chuckle coming from the male sitting next to you made your stomach flip, as did the soft feel of his fingertips on your forehead as he brushed stray strands of hair from your eyes.   

“It’s not that humid. At least no more so than any of the summer’s we’ve spent here before,” Lucien remarked, folding a corner of the page down to hold his place in the book. A mocking gasp left you as you pointed at the dog-eared page for all the times he gave you grief for not using a bookmark. Raising the corner of his lip, Lucian ignored you and continued, “I thought you said you loved thunderstorms.” 

“I do,” You sat up, moving to take the book from his grasp. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t complain about them.” Lucien held the book high above his head out of your reach causing you to whine. “Lu…I can practically swim through the air. How can you stand this fucking weather?”

“Simple, Fae are better at regulating body temperature.” His matter of fact tone irked you. A detail he likely caught onto and quickly followed up with, “At least in mild scenarios like this. I’d die of hypothermia just like any human would if stuck in a blizzard in the Winter Court unprepared.” 

“Bullshit. You have fire magic,” You sat back onto your shins, thighs exposed as the small sleep shorts rode further up towards the crevice where your legs met your hips. The two of you sat there on the bed for a long moment. Looking over his face, you couldn’t find a single drop of sweat. Another highlight into the vast differences between Fae and human physiology and how you just didn’t belong here. 

You on the other hand were completely drenched. Beads of the slightly salty and tangy liquid slowly dripped down the back of your neck, slipping under your collar to make their way down the center of your spine. You had to look like a disgusting mess compared to the many Fae females living in Prythian. Certainly neither Elaine nor…clearing your throat you stood up from the bed. 

“I need to cool off before I get heat stroke,” Masking the rising hurt within your voice you made your way to the bathing chamber. The chamber reminded you of the one at the Moonstone palace, only the bath was raised above the floor instead of set inside. Looking over the array of bottles and glass canisters filled with oils and salts you heard the male approach. You were grateful that Lucien had taken to making his steps heavier in order for you to hear him approach. Something that only he and Hunt seemed to have picked up on even needing to be a necessity. 

“Want some company?” Lucien’s voice drifted into the bathroom as he leaned against the doorframe. His playful smirk didn’t falter an inch as you huffed in annoyance. You knew his teasing was just that and nothing more. He may have been a sly fox to others, but you knew that he was also loyal to any potential relationship he may have with Elain. Loyal to a fault almost. Not that she had yet taken the chance to get to know him well enough for her to deserve his loyalty. 

“No,” Your eyes focused on the cool water as it poured out of the tap into the ivory lined stone basin of the tub. “Now get out before you cause a scandal.” The male held his hands up in surrender as he turned and left the chamber, closing the door behind him. 

The brisk water immediately soothed your overheated body. You almost swore that steam rose up from your once sweat soaked skin.  Despite the goosebumps that erupted over your flesh, you weren’t ready to escape the chilled depths of the bath. After a few moments your muscles finally relaxed. As your body relaxed, so did your mind and you began to hum softly. Seamlessly moving from one tune to another, your fingers lightly kept time against the rim of the tub. You were so caught up in the calm moment you almost didn’t hear Luicen’s soft knock on the bathroom door. 

“Come in,” Your voice called as you lowered yourself and turned your body to hide your more feminine aspects from his view. The first thing you saw was Lucien’s brightened auburn hair poke around the solid oak door. The Day Court always seemed to bring out the lighter highlights whereas the color appeared more drab whenever he was in the Night Court. Before he could notice you staring you forced your eyes away from the strands as a few fell away from his shoulder. 

“Are you seriously not done yet?” He took a step into the room, that sly half cocked smile still on the corner of his lips. “If you stay in there any longer you’ll shrivel up like a dried prune, my darling.” Your face scrunched up in an expression of disgust at the nickname before sticking your tongue out at him. Of course, this only caused him to laugh heartily at your expense. 

“Do you need something?” You scowled at him, lifting your lip in a way to resemble the stupid snarls you saw between other males while walking around Velaris from time to time. 

“Wow,” His voice was deadpan, “You’re about as terrifying as a chipmunk.” 

“Fuck you!” You pouted, turning away from him. 

“Not today, love, we don’t have the time.” Whipping your head back around you gaped at him. His saccharine smile fully reminding you why he was once called the ‘Lord of Foxes’. With a growl you raised your hand back to collect as much water as you could before smacking it out of the tub in his direction. Being Fae, he easily dodged the wave as it spilled onto the stone floor. 

“You have five minutes to finish up before I drag you out myself,” His amber eyes sparkled with mischief, “Though that could be fun. It’s not like I haven’t seen all you have to offer before.” Your eyes went wide and you guffawed at him. 

“You. Dick!” This time you took a bar of soap and launched it at his head, which he easily caught with one hand. “Damn you!” You had to purse your lips to stop the smile that desperately wanted to join his. 

“Hurry up now, we have a long trip to that ancient tomb of a Library after lunch.” He retreated back to the door frame, “And I was really hoping we could walk through the garden before we leave.” His smile was so inviting that you found yourself almost instantly giving in. 

“What about the storm?” 

“It’s still a couple of hours away,” He turned to leave, “The breeze will make the walk much more pleasant than just lounging in the room like we’ve done half the day.” The end of his statement caused you to pause as you processed the words. 

“Wait, what time is it?” You sat up a little straighter, still ensuring to cover your breasts from his view. Not that he would be looking anyway…

“Almost two in the afternoon,” Lucien rolled his eyes. “Thanks to the Day Court and their late start to the day everything gets pushed back by hours.” 

“I’m perfectly fine with the late mornings,” You smiled at him and his lips mirrored yours. 

“Oh I know, love. You wouldn’t survive in the Autumn or Spring Courts,” Lucien walked out of the bathing chamber and towards the light oak wardrobe next to the entrance. You could vaguely make out his frame as he allowed you to slip out of the tub and wrap yourself in your fuzzy bathrobe. “Beron was very rigid with all of our schedules. My brothers and I would be woken up between 7 or 8 in the morning, a reasonable time mind you. After dressing we had a small breakfast, followed by morning sparring lessons while the weather was still cool. Lunch was at exactly midday and if you were late…well you didn’t eat. My brothers would have lessons in regards to ruling over the territories they would be assigned once they grew into maturity. Which if you ask me never actually occurred. Thus, I was left to my own devices. Which would have been fantastic had Mother not insisted on my being in the library to study whatever I desired.” The sound of hangers scraped against the wooden rod holding up the vast array of fashionable Day Court styles filling the wardrobe. You watched as Lucien examined each outfit before looking up at you and back to the wardrobe, seemingly unsatisfied with anything inside. “Supper was at 5 in the evening, and the largest meal of the day. It was only during the festivals we were allowed to let loose and raise hell until about 3 in the morning.” He chuckled as his eyes flashed up and down your body. With his gaze returning to the selection of clothes he shook his head in dissatisfaction before he continued. “The Spring Court under Tamlin’s rule was more relaxed, except for the wake up call. I personally believe that waking up at the ass crack of dawn should be a crime.” You snorted at his use of your slang. How many times did you make that same remark when having to wake up at 4 in the morning for training with Azriel? It must have been in the thousands. 

“Let me guess, you need your beauty sleep? Or is it to nurse the endless hangovers from the wine you needed in order to deal with the asinine bullshit that is required of an emissary?” You batted your lashes at him innocently as you leaned against the doorframe. 

He smiled and chuckled, “Something like that.” Finally he decided on a selection and pulled a dress out of the wardrobe. The breezy organza and linen fabric blew in the wind winding its way through your shared bedroom. A part of you felt the material would be too light and would just end up giving everyone a free show of what would be underneath, but perhaps its lightness was best for the humidity. Lucien held the light moss green dress in front of you. You were grateful that the length barely brushed your toes, and not so long that it would cause you to trip. Two wide straps of linen allowed you to configure the top half of the garment in any way that you felt was most flattering. Smiling, you nodded in approval and took the dress from his hands. Setting the dress on a hanger near the vanity, you saw Lucien digging through the drawers in search of under garments. The rest of the exchange was done in comfortable silence before you once again retreated to the bathroom to get dressed for the afternoon’s excursion. 

Once the door was shut and your privacy resumed, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Looking back at the dress hanging nearby you debated on wearing any cosmetics and if they would be of any benefit. With the humidity it wouldn’t make sense to do a full face of makeup, but the redness and shadows gracing your cheeks made you cringe. If you went for a walk that same redness would just get worse. Powder wouldn’t cover that on its own, and any liquid or cream foundation would just melt and wash away from the sweat. Sighing you sat down at the vanity and perused over the various cosmetic items you had accumulated over the years. 

Eventually your eyes settled on a small tin filled with a baked square of kohl, Prythian’s version of cake mascara and eyeliner. Outlining your eyes would be too dramatic with your outfit, but you could still easily apply the substance to your eye lashes with the miniature toothbrush-like applicator. When you first purchased the tin you had been skeptical on how well it would apply to your lashes. However, it quickly became one of your new favorites as you’d never seen your eyelashes look so good. Pulling the tin towards you and pulling out the brush you leaned over to the sink to wet it. It took you a while to learn the best application method, something you and Bryce had a three hour long conversation over. The makeup in your two respective worlds were very similar but neither of you had used this particular medium. Thus, both of you sat in front of a mirror applying, removing, and reapplying until you both got it just right. 

You loosened a soft chuckle at the memory, gently swirling the brush on one side of the square chunk of kohl until you were satisfied with its saturation. Carefully you brought the brush to your lashes, raking them through the bristles and coating them. You could practically hear Ruhn’s light-hearted teasing in your mind even though he was entirely incapable of mind-speaking with you. Pausing your hand, you sigh and stare at your reflection. The memory of your birthday never dulled and the hollow feeling in your chest never went away. It didn’t matter how many times you rationalized the events in your mind. It didn’t matter how many times he had apologized for his thoughtless words. 

“Lidia,” His voice that night still rang clear as the bell in the ancient clock tower leagues away from Helion’s palace. “It’s ok Lidia, I’ve got you.” The simple fact remained; Ruhn wanted Lidia. Not you. Why would he want a human like you? Why, when he could have someone that was more beautiful, more of what he needed. You didn’t even know what she looked like, but you knew deep down that she was what he needed. Just from the little bit you had gathered you had the suspicion this Lidia was his mate.  You blinked away the tears, using the sleeve of your bathrobe to touch up the bits of mascara that started to run down your cheeks. 

In an effort to clear your mind you continued to get ready and removed your bathrobe to get dressed, but all your movements ceased as soon as you caught a glimpse of your plump form in the mirror. Your eyes scanned over your stomach and the sagging skin of your lower belly before moving on to the extra dips on your obliques between your waist and underbust. It took all your inner strength to keep a new wave of tears at bay. Yes, you engaged in physical activity daily and were eating probably the healthiest you had ever eaten. Yet you still felt like a stranger in your own skin. The image projected back at you didn’t match the one in your mind. 

Disgusted, your eyes left the mirror and strayed over to the cosmetic bag. Specifically landing on a small cut out section of the silk lining where you’d hidden a small single sided razor blade. Your mind emptied while your hand was guided by an autopilot mode not used in years. The razor was meant to be a spare within shave kit you had gotten for Ruhn, but you had kept it for your own use. You weren’t entirely sure you had ever really intended on ever using it, its presence alone providing you with a warped sense of security. However, the blade had been dragged across your skin once or twice since your arrival. The sleek metal gleamed in the low light of the bathroom from the sunlight above as you pulled it out of the bag. 

Deep down you knew this was an unhealthy way to deal with your self doubts. It didn’t truly relieve any of the pain and it didn’t make you love yourself in any form. Besides, who could love someone still so broken? Not allowing yourself to answer that question, you sat down on the edge of the tub and examined the old scars on your legs. Would the dress cover any new wounds? Could you get to one of the many servants to ask for a healing salve before either Lucien or Helion noticed? And were you seriously considering self-harm over a guy? A guy not being interested in you wasn’t a new concept. In fact it was the status quo in your life before you were dropped in front of the River House. 

So, why? Why was your mind even making this an issue? You knew why. Deep down you knew that your old wounds never healed and being in this new world just highlighted the lonely hopeless romantic inside you. Finding and accepting love was hard in your world. It should be easier here, right? This world had mates. It shouldn’t matter that you were a different species from literally everyone else you knew. Nor should it matter that there was no record of human’s having mates. There was still some type of pull. Both Nesta and Cassian had said as much at one point. Feyre too stated that there had been some type of pull towards Rhysand when she first laid eyes on him while she was still human. You…You could still have a mate, couldn’t you? It would make things so much easier. So much less lonely. The concept of soul mates in your world gave no absolute certainty that the relationship would work out. Here…in Prythian, on Midgard and probably any where else in this fucking version of the universe there was that certainty. A real and true mate; your person. Someone who was undoubtedly yours, and you were undoubtedly theirs. 

But that was all wishful thinking. Dating was honestly out of the question with the confinements surrounding your existence. It probably didn’t matter really anyways, males here were just as superficial as men in your world. That much was obvious with the way you saw the other males in your life look at…well, not look at you. You eyed the razor again as it hovered above your upper thigh. Sighing, you paused and lowered the razor at your side. With a single tear running down your cheek you stood and placed the small blade back into its secured spot in the makeup bag. 

With another deep breath you looked through the bag’s contents to see if there was anything else you wanted to apply, but paused as you questioned why you should even bother. You knew that you weren’t ugly, but compared to all the other females…makeup on a pig doesn’t make the pig beautiful. Another sigh escaped alongside a tear, taking a lump of the mascara with it. Exasperated, you grab a cloth and decide to forgo the cosmetics altogether and wipe away the kohl entirely. It was still too humid anyway. 

Closing your eyes you begin to breathe deeply. Counting up to ten sets of slow inhales and exhales. Each breath acknowledging the various feelings of self-loathing and letting each of them go. Once complete, you move your eyes away from the mirror and quickly dress in the undergarments and dress that Lucien picked out for you. After securing the dress’ ties around your body in the form of a halter top, you allowed yourself to look up into the mirror once more. Taking another deep breath you begin to brush your hair and clip half of it up and out of your eyes. One more deep breath and you apply a small amount of lotion to your face, soothing the irritation around your eyes from rubbing off the kohl mascara. The final touch consisted of a sheer nude-pink lip butter. Forcing a half-hearted smile you looked at your reflection for a final time that afternoon. While you may never feel wanted, never feel accepted, never feel desired, you couldn’t let it drag you down. You were human and humans aren’t perfect. 

The journey to the ancient library was unlike any of your other trips within the Day Court borders. So far, you had been to at least six libraries. When Helion mentioned a trip to the oldest library within all of Prythian, deep within the desert lands of the Day Court you had expected yet another multi-day carriage ride. Suffice to say you had not expected to be taken down to the docks of the winding river near Helion’s palace. Upon seeing the boat, or rather what appeared more like an oversized canoo, you felt as if you stepped back in time. 

The vessel was long, nearly half the length of a football field, and curved upwards on each end. It almost reminded you of old viking type ships, but it was also different. The ship had two masts, a large one near the stern and the shorter one near the bow. In between the two was a large open air canopy. Sheer drapes of jewel toned purples and reds billowed in sync with the stormy breeze. 

The light and short gusts of air were the only indication of the ship’s movement down the wide and steady river.  You were grateful the storm withheld the release of the torrential down pour locked inside the deep gray clouds looming over the horizon. Every now and again the familiar scent of rain would be carried on the wind as it brushed past. You couldn’t help thinking that the trip would have been brutal if the sun was out in full force. 

Helion and Lucien were deep in conversation, most of which you tuned out as you enjoyed watching the scenery change as the barge floated down the river. Lounging in one of the plush crimson cushions under the wooden canopy you began to hum. The melody started off as a random tune but gradually changed to one of the few songs that were able to be transferred to the new cell phone Ruhn gave you for your birthday. 

You weren’t entirely sure why this particular song entered your mind. It wasn’t as if the topic had been on your mind or even recently discussed. Yet here you were, softly humming three short notes of the opening line. 

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

You kept your voice soft and low. Tall verdant stalks with grassy tufts lined the banks of the river. Every so often the stalks would be interrupted by dark colored reeds and white flowers.   

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

You hummed a few more notes from the instrumentation, closing your eyes as the warm rain scented breeze rustled your hair. 

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to be free

An image of a dark cloaked figure flashed within your mind. The same figure you had seen so often in your dreams. Your eyes snapped open, but the banks of the river remained unfocused as your voice softened further. 

Blackbird, fly

Blackbird, fly

Your heart rate picked up, the figure looming on the edge of bank just out of the corner of your vision.

Into the light of the dark black night 

“You have a lovely voice, my dear,” Helion’s voice was soft as he kneeled next to where you laid. “Though I would much prefer to hear something less…melancholic.” The large male chuckled, his smile shining brightly against his golden brown skin. The High Lord of Day held his hand out for you to take, which you did without hesitation. The dynamic with Helion was much more natural and free than what was between you and Rhysand. Here you didn’t have the constant feeling of walking on eggshells. You didn’t have to watch your words. Your muscles weren’t in a state of constant tension, poised to either run or brace yourself at a moment's notice. No, Helion genuinely cared for you and your well-being. His care towards you made it that much more difficult to keep the truth from him each and every visit. 

“Join us for supper, love.” Lucien called. Taking Helion’s hand, he helped you sit up. A quick glance at the the other male and you noticed how he looked like he was made for the comfortable luxury of the Day Court. You mentally shook the image of the cloaked figure from your mind and slowly stood up from the oversized cushion. Helion held out his arm, which you happily took as you walked together the short distance over to where he and Lucien had been sitting. 

“This looks amazing,” You practically licked your lips as you looked over the spread. The small table held common dishes within the Day Court. Thick stews with various cuts of meats or root vegetables, olives and other fresh veggies, and bits of pliable bread. The scent of the herbs and spices washed away the damp scent of rain. 

“It tastes just as good as it looks,” Helion chuckled, guiding you to a spot in between the two males. You didn’t hesitate in leaning over to grab a piece of the bread and dip it into the flavorful deep red stew. Lucien chucked and followed your lead, also scooping up a hearty amount of the dish into his mouth. A quick flick of your eyes up to his lips caused your own cheeks to blush a soft pink. The desire to hide the blush caused you to angle yourself towards the High Lord, only to see the broad knowing smile shining on his face. 

“What?” You eyed him, reaching for a slice of mango. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while, but your scent,” Helion paused, taking a small sip of his wine. On your other side you could feel Lucien go completely still. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you found yourself a lover in the Night Court.” The High Lord’s grin grew as he watched you freeze, the mango stopping just before it reached your lips. 

“Lover?” You didn’t intend for your voice to sound as high pitched as it came out. “What makes you think I-”

“No need to defend yourself, my dear,” His smile remained soft, reassuring, “I am not judging. It’s in the Autumn and Winter Courts where they frown upon ones right to freely experience the physical pleasures.” He winked, taking another sip from the deep blue glass. “I’ve just simply noticed that there is a slight… lingering citrus aspect. It fades over the course of your stay here, so I know that it isn’t part of your natural scent. So, what’s his name?” 

“The name is of no concern,” You could hear Lucien try to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. Prior to either of you coming to the Day Court you had agreed to not reveal the existence of those from Midgard. However, it seems that the omission finally caught up with you. You hadn’t even considered that Ruhn's scent would somehow mingle with your own. You supposed it would if you had been physically intimate with each other, but simply sharing a space…

“Is that a hint of jealousy,” Helion’s lips broadened further. “I knew you two were close, but-”

“I’m not jealous.” Your eyes traveled back to Lucien as he bit back. Helion simply continued to smile. 

“Ruhn is a friend,” Your voice was soft, hoping that Helion would be satisfied with that information and allow for the topic to move on to another subject. 

“A friend,” Helion set the heavy glass down on the wooden table in the center of the cushions. “He must be a very good friend for his scent to be so strongly mixed in with yours. It is curious though, the citrus is almost familiar…” His deep golden brown eyes bored into you, almost as if he already knew the truth. “I thought I knew all of Rhysand’s relatives.” 

You looked over at Lucien, silently seeking for the best way to respond. You were utterly lost as to how Fae scents worked, but Helion could tell that Ruhn was somehow related to Rhysand solely based on the lingering scent. Lucien placed his own wine glass down on the table. 

“Ruhn is a distant relative,” He admitted. You may have been clueless about scents, but you knew Lucien well enough to hear the tone of an emissary take hold of his voice. 

“Interesting,” Helion continued to study the two of you. You kept your gaze lowered, knowing full well that if you met Helion’s eyes you’d cave at any direct question about Ruhn. “I take it that he is not from the Illyrian side, but the High Fae side.” The Lord of Day leaned in closer to you. “I’m curious what he may have told you about his homeland. It is lovely this time of year after all.” Your head whipped to look at him. A knowing smile spread over his warm features. 

“You…you know about Midgard?” You stared as Helion started to chuckle. Lucien’s groan in perfect sync with the low creaking of the fabric seat below him. “Ah… fuck…I can’t believe I fell for that.” 

“Don’t worry about it, my dear,” He winked. “There are very few that are fully able to resist my charms.” Helion looked over to Lucien, the red head downing the rest of his wine before reaching for another bottle.

“Congratulations,” Lucien’s words were dry, “But for the record, we don’t know much of anything ourselves.” 

“I figured as much,” Helion picked up his own glass. “Rhysand does like to keep his cards close to his chest. Just as he has done ever since…well, that story is not one for me to discuss. Nevertheless, I would very much like to meet Ruhn. Someone has to look out for this beautiful woman’s best interests.” Helion smiled, leaning towards you to pick up a grape from the spread of food. 

The barge continued to float down the river as you all ate. The conversation flowed just as freely. Soon the river reeds gave way and on the horizon was a large old stone structure. Surrounding it was a small village with only a few buildings. The scene struck you as if this place had been forgotten to time. 

“Ah!” Helion stood, an arm outstretched towards the starboard side of the ship. “Welcome to Átoum.”

You had been in the library since the first golden rays of dawn. Thunder from the prior night’s monsoon kept you just on the edge of sleep most of the night. The small mansion you slept in was old stone and none of the same openness of Helion’s palace. The High Lord showed you around the property and through the old library. The library itself reminded you more of a museum and an adjoining archive. The front rooms were spacious and lined with various artifacts such as pottery, old weapons, clothing, and other art pieces. The rooms near the back of the complex held rows upon rows of scrolls and books. This was where you had found yourself for the past day and a half. Hunched over, eyes blurred and tired from reading dust covered pages. 

At one point you stood, just to stretch your legs, allowing your body to just carry you as it saw fit. The shelves of written documents towered high above your head nearly scraping the ceiling. As you walked mindlessly the documents changed from bound books to tightly wrapped up scrolls. Your steps slowed, fingers and eyes trailing along the edges. 

The papyrus was brittle, flakes falling off the edges as you unfurled the scroll. There was no clear organizational system amongst the shelves where you found this particular item. You hadn’t even realized that you had picked it up until it was in your hands and you stood in front of the seat you’d been in for the past day and a half. A quick glance showed a majority of the writing was illegible, the ink faded, cracked, or even missing altogether. 

You unfurled the parchment as carefully as possible, weighing the corners down with one of the previously discarded books nearby. Your eyes scanned over the page immediately catching on the grouped lines that went in various directions. Nearly all of them crossed over or were connected to a single horizontal line spanning the width of the entire page. The section expanded down multiple lines, taking up nearly the first half of the document. Chunks of this section had sadly chipped away over the centuries, possibly millenia, the scroll had sat upon that dusty shelf.

Your eyes continued to scan over the page, carefully unrolling the scroll further. The writing slowly gave way to what you recognized as Norse runes. Your eyes snapped back to the strange rows of mismatched lines above. Upon the second look you realized that you had seen this before, just not in a context that actually conveyed any true meaning. What was it called again? Was it celtic? 

“What the fuck…” You couldn’t stop the hushed question. You continued to review the lettering on the scroll. Each section must have been a testament to the dominant language of wherever this scroll originated. The unknown celtic, Norse, and…Latin. How did this even end up here? Tucked away in an ancient practically forgotten library. To have three different languages written…How old was this fucking scroll? Nothing about this made sense. Was this even from Prythian? 

You knew a small amount of latin, really just enough to make out a few words here and there from when you sang sacred texts in your high school and university choirs. However, the real question was if it would be enough to gain any worthwhile information. Quickly you rushed to grab a blank sheet of paper and quill and searched for the well of ink. 

“Fucking piece of shit…” lifting paper and books you continued your search. “Some goddamn Harry Potter fuckery, writing with a quill…” Finally you found the small bottle of dark ink and returned to your seat, carefully arranging your space to ensure that no ink would spill over the ancient scroll. Meticulously you looked over, analyzing each Latin phrase, rewriting the sentences. Below each word you recognized you added your native language’s translation. You quickly realized that you recognized a lot more than you originally thought. 

From the sparse words you could pick out, your best guess for the contents appeared to be of a story. Given the grandiose and slightly cryptic word choice it made the most sense for it to be a creation myth of some type. You had found many variations of Prythian’s creation myth during your hours upon hours of researching in both the Day Court and the Night Court. You easily recognized the list of elements the Mother placed into her Cauldron to create existence: the Sun, the Moon, Earth, Sky, Water, Darkness, and Fate. However, there was something different. The wording made it seem as if these elements had a certain…sentience, as if the elements were actual deities and not simply aspects of reality. Additionally, there was no explicit mention of “The Mother” or her cauldron. 

“Wait…what is cauldron in latin? Is there a latin word for cauldron…” Setting the quill down, you ran your fingers through your hair. “This is tedious.” As the text continued some of the more faded latin sections were replaced with the norse runes. Groaning, you practically slammed your forehead on the table, the ink in the jar splashing on the wooden table top. “Fuck me…” 

“If you absolutely insist,” Lucien’s voice, while soft, jarred you causing you to jump up from your seat and hit your knees on the edge of the table. 

“Damn you,” A string of curses flew past your lips. Lucien clicked his tongue, shaking his head in mock disapproval. 

“Find anything yet? Or just another dead end?” Lucien placed his hands on your shoulders, his fingers warming up as he kneaded the stiff muscles. You closed your eyes, humming softly in pleasure as he continued. The massage was just what you needed after sitting hunched over in a chair for so long. 

“I might have finally found something. I guess the seventh trip was the charm,” You chuckle, leaning your head to the side to allow him more space to work. “Though it is too early to tell. I can’t read more than half of what’s on here.” You vaguely gesture to the scroll which had unfurled itself from the table, down to the archaic stone slab floor. Lucien leaned down, placing his chin on your shoulder and looked over the papyrus. His slim fingers delicately running along the lines of text. 

“The fact that you can read any of this is a feat,” His breath sent a shiver down your spine.

“Stop that,” You warned. You felt his grin against the side or your neck. 

“Stop what, exactly,” Again his breath caused your muscles to tense briefly. 

“Breathing down my neck,” You attempted to shake him off, but he didn’t move. “Seriously! It tickles!” You shook your shoulders again, giggling like a damn child.   

“Alright, alright,” Lucien stood back up to his full height before walking to the opposite side of where you sat and pulling a wooden chair to sit beside you. “What does this say?” Sighing, you placed your head in your hands. 

“All I can make out so far is that it's another story about how Prythian was created.” Titling your head you looked over at him. “At least I think it is.” 

“We’ve read dozens of those,” he pointed out, gently bringing the scroll closer for him to observe again despite his inability to read the text. “Anything special about this story in particular?”  You brought the bottom parts of the scroll back up to the table where you sat before grabbing the parchment you used to write down the words you recognized. 

“While I had to study languages as part of my music studies. My Latin outside of the standard sacred texts is extremely lacking. I’m guessing on a lot of this from other languages in my world that are based on this one.” You pointed to the flourished lettering. “There’s mentions of portals, Death Gods and Star Gods, the Earth and other elements. I just don’t see anything about the Mother, which is what makes this different. Of course, I need more time to look it over.” 

“I remember reading that there had been portals several millennia ago. This could be a reference to those.” Lucien paused. “I’ve just never heard of any Star Gods…” He continued to look over the scroll. You followed his gaze, eyes trailing down the papyrus. The scroll gave way to an image of a map, your eyes landing on an eerily familiar word written underneath. Álfheim.  Your breath caught in your throat. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Surely your eyes were playing tricks on you, or this was simply a coincidence. However, something deep within your being told you that this wasn’t a simple coincidence, but something that was completely brought on by fate. 

“Álfheim…” Your fingers traced over the name; eyes glued to the map laying out the various lands including and outside of Prythian. 

Lucien looked up at you with concern on his face. “You’ve… heard that before haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Your voice softened. “Alfheim and Midgard…are names of realms that are mentioned in MY WORLD.”  You continued to scan over the rest of the scroll. Below the map the story appeared to continue. The same repetition of text starting from the configuration of lines transitioning to the runes then transitioning to the Latin. If it weren’t for the spinning thoughts in your mind you would have looked over the text more carefully. You made a mental note to keep this scroll in a safe location and return to it tomorrow. 

“(Y/N),” Lucien’s soft voice brought your attention back. “What was the name of your world again? Earth?” You nodded, silently praying that he would not ask for any clarification as to how your world could be connected. You hadn’t yet told him about the trip to the Prison and what you had discovered there. You shoved those thoughts as far from your memory as you possibly could, only letting your subconscious process the information until you had more evidence. Clearly, something in the universe was screaming at you and you were not to get the luxury of forgetting so easily. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Lucien open his mouth, but before any words were uttered your eyes landed on another image on the scroll. 

“Wait…” You pointed to the image that took up the entire width of scroll. “I know I’ve seen this before.” Tapping on the scroll, you wracked your mind for where you could have possibly seen the image. It wasn’t from the Prison, or anywhere in the Night Court. You thought about the museums that you had been to in your world, but even those memories came up blank. The details were minimal, likely a simplified version of the original piece. It reminded you of a scene on a tableau or medieval tapestry. Three scenes that flowed seamlessly together to create a visual story. Multiple figures frolicing in a field, another group surrounded by an eight pointed star, and yet another set of three. As your eyes scanned over the illustration the scene changed to include multiple figures standing in a circle. The size of the illustration made it difficult to determine, but it almost looked like the figures were standing around a large object. You groaned slightly as the rest of the illustration had eroded away, leaving a hole that extended towards the edge of the scroll.  

Lucien carefully shifted the papyrus to get a better look at the image, “There seems to be some type of inscription.” He pointed at the small lettering immediately underneath the image that reminded you of a caption in a text book. Your eyes followed the length of his long elegant fingers. 

“Cum magicae redit ad terram,” The latin flowed surprisingly easily off your tongue, “Cum mortis umbra non alligatur corpora caelestia coniungunt ad novos imbres.” 

“Care to translate?” Lucien asked. With a sigh, you leaned back against the wooden chair. It was true you understood a few words immediately, but it would take a bit more time to decipher the full meaning. 

“A little bit,” You looked over the words again. “The first part says something about magic and the earth, then…” Your voice trails off.  “Mortis umbra…” Death shadow. Wasn’t Hunt’s nickname the Umbra Mortis? Could this have something to do with those from Midgard? You had heard of the prophecy regarding the Starsword and Truth Teller. Was this another? It certainly seemed to read that way from what little you could tell. 

“(Y/N)?” Lucien’s soft voice and warm hand on your shoulder calmed your mind. 

“Something about a death shadow, or shadow of death and then celestial bodies and new…rain, I think.” With a slight shake of your head you rubbed at your tired eyes. “Lu, I think…I think this is something big.”

“Big?” He chuckled. You could tell that he was equally as nervous about what threat this forgotten scroll could pose. “This is likely another retelling of the creation of Prythian.” You took hold of his hand, squeezing it slightly. 

“No,” You looked him directly in his eyes. The golden one whirring as the gears made the pupil contract. “This is an earlier story. This predates the Mother, Lu. This, this entire scroll, provides an unknown account of how this world, as a whole, came to be. And with it…another prophecy. We need to show this to the others. Bryce, Ruhn, and Hunt can look to see if they have anything like it in Midgard. Just like the prophecy about the blades reuniting the Fae of this world and those that had traveled to Midgard so long ago.”

“I don’t think that will be a good idea,” His voice was hesitant, eyes searching your face. “We don’t-” The sound of someone clearing their throat cut off whatever objection he likely planned to make. Turning slowly towards the sound your eyes went wide, a wave of cold washing over your face. Helion stood just beyond a row of long untouched tombs, arms crossed over his broad chest. He somehow appeared larger than normal. More dominant and…formidable. The most basic human parts of you threw up alarm bells that this was a creature that would kill at the slightest provocation. 

“Call these ‘Midgarians’ here now.” Helion’s voice was low and demanding. Lucien angled his body to create a barrier between you and the powerful High Lord. “Get them, Lucien, and bring them to me.” The male paused for the briefest of moments before he suddenly disappeared. Your throat went dry. He left you…left you entirely alone. “You, my dear, will tell me everything you know and what your real goal has been in exploiting my generosity.”

General tag list: @loving-and-dreaming

Series tag list: @jenniferpendragon @impossibelle @sweet-chai-amore @myheartfollower @iimichie

@fightmedraco @nikkitch0703 @eerievixen @ang-taylorsversion

@randomness-it-is @thehighlordishere @rachelnicolee @hardcoremarvelfan @awkardnerd @sundayysunshine

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@mis-lil-red @rcarbo1 @celmentine111002 @abacteriamicroorganismsalmonella @julesvanslutta

[mirandasidefics]

When r u gonna update 🥀💔

Hello!

I will be posting the next chapter (chapter 15) today. I know that I'm about 2 months behind on chapters now, but there was a lot going on in my personal life that made having the motivation to write very difficult.

Hopefully I can continue to power through and get back on track with Chapter 16 in July.

[mirandasidefics]

Out of my control

Summary:

LoA moves to the Day Court after Beron’s death and her and Helion have a baby; Lucien gets a little sister. Lucien meets Y/N when his sister is about 3 yo and he starts courting the her. It quickly becomes clear that the little female does not like Y/N making her gets more and more discouraged, knowing relationships tend not to work if a family doesn’t like the partner. Lucien always brushes it off and tosses it up to his sister being territorial over the brother who used to spend every second he could spare with her but now needs to teach her to share him.

Disclaimer: I give no rights for my work to be replicated, adapted, translated or used for any means. If you have questions please feel free to message me.

A special thanks to @mirandasidefics for beta reading and inspiring me to finally post. Go read her fics on her page, they are amazing!

Lucien POV

“Centuries ago there was a male and a female who fell in love”

“Ewwww!” She giggles.

“Shhhh. This is the story of a female, a spitfire who was carefree and creative and who fell in love with the sun.”

“The sun?”

“The sun. The sun used to sneak into the female’s family estate when all were away and he’d dance with her. He taught her the dances of all the places he had been to and she taught him about the animals that lived near her estate. Her favorite were the birds, she’d take him to the balcony of her estate and they’d feed the birds, sometimes they’d even fly into her hands.”

“They can do that?” Her small voice is full of wonder.

“Yes, but it takes patience. But the sun and the spitfire female had to keep their love a secret.”

“Why?”

“Because the spitfire was betrothed.”

“Beth- betrou- bu- bu- what?”

“Betrothed, she was engaged,” she gasps at that. “But she didn’t want to be. The spitfire’s father had basically sold her to the most powerful male in the land; a king.”

“She didn’t want to be a queen?”

“Maybe she did… but she knew that true love was more important than any crown.”

“Awww” she coos.

“The day for her to wed came and her betrothed- I mean, her new husband, found out about the sun, about how much she loved the sun and how much the sun loved her back. He threatened to-”

“Thhhhh- thhh- teten?”

“Threatened. He promised to do something really bad if she didn’t stop seeing the sun,” she gasps again.

“What did he promise?”

I shrug, “no one knows. But it was scary enough that the spitfire, sad and crying, told the sun they could no longer see one another. And the sun, fearing for her, agreed. And so the sun was gone. And the spitfire’s life became cloudy and colorless. Slowly, her fire didn’t burn as bright. The days dragged on and on and on… she gave that king six sons. One stronger than the last. Taller. Bigger. But… also dumber.” She giggles. “Then a war broke out and all the surrounding kingdoms got together to fight the bad male trying to take away their freedom. Their lives, their cultures and traditions were all at risk… and the sun was there to help them fight, but the spitfire could only watch from a distance. Until one morning, one of the evil males from the bad side of the war, found her taking a walk in the forest. The spitfire, having gone centuries without her training, fled. The male chased her to a cliff and she knew she wasn’t going to make it. No weapons, her powers, out of practice and dull over the years…”

“Oh no…”

“But then, with a burst of blinding light, the sun appeared in front of her again. He drew no weapon but in seconds the bad male was no more. He turned to the spitfire, who watched him in awe and in thanks, who was crying at their mare proximity, and he held her. And they danced again. They danced like they used to. Like no time had passed at all and for a few days, though they met in secret, her world had color again. The fire in her soul burned so violently she couldn’t sit still. But all good things must end, as the bad ones do. And the king found out they’d been dancing,” she gasps yet again. “He promised more bad things… and the sun had to go away again. Months later the spitfire gave birth to another son. He looked much like the others but he was smaller. More delicate. As he grew, he didn’t want to fight, though he learned to defend himself, but he was drawn to the library, he loved to read. So as his brothers were sent to rule parts of their father’s kingdom, the youngest would read, and learn. But he was always treated poorly by his brothers and his father, and he never knew why. They did terrible things to him, took away things that made him happy, took his friends and his books and everything he held dear…” My voice cracks. “So he ran away and went to live with a friend. He made a life for himself, traveling and seeing new places, making new friends. And things were fine… until they weren’t. A mad queen captured all the kings and queens of the neighboring lands and cast a curse on the youngest son, his friend and their kingdoms. They were cursed for 50 years!”

“15 years?!”

I chuckle, “50, 5-0. But a human came and saved them. She beat all the odds and the youngest son was free… for a while. Many bad things kept happening to him but he got through it all and he found his mate!”

“His mate?”

“Yes. They are very rare, but mates are the Mother’s gifts to the fae. They hold the other half of our souls and some say one is never complete until they find their mate. But his mate did not want him. She was hurt and angry at the world and she did not look at him twice. He was hurt, rejected by the one person who was supposed to love him no matter what. But he made it through, little by little, getting stronger with each challenge he faced and conquered. He moved around different kingdoms, fought in a big war and soon he found himself not quite fitting into the places he once did. So he found a new home, with two new friends; a firebird and a misunderstood warrior. Until one day a little bird came to him and told him the story of the spitfire and the sun. And that’s when he knew; he was no prince. The evil king who raised him was not his father… but the sun? The sun was. And the youngest son was light itself.”

“Wow…”

“Yes… but it was not easy. The sun didn’t know his love for the spitfire had such an effect. But when he found out the sun shone brighter than he ever had. Taking his offspring, although a grown man, into his kingdom and teaching him things he didn’t even know he was capable of, powers he didn’t know he had. But the young mele’s trouble wasn’t over; his mate rejected their bond and he almost died because of it. His parents and his two friends were the ones to keep him alive and helped him. And then the evil king who had raised the male passed away; the spitfire was free too. And she found refuge in the sun’s kingdom. And they danced again, and laughed again and fed the birds again.”

“And they lived happily ever after?” She asks.

“Not yet. Not a decade later, the spitfire was pregnant again, this time with a morning star, Venus.”

“That’s my name!” She claps.

“That’s right. And the lonely boy who finally had the family he always wanted, got a little sister!” She giggles as I blow raspberries on her belly. “Now, go to bed before mom finds out you’re awake.”

“Noooo!” She whines, “I wanna hear it again! I wanna hear it again!” I put her in bed, catching by the ankle as she tried to crawl away and putting the covers over her.

“You just heard it!” I smile.

“But I want it again!” I kiss her head.

“Tomorrow night,” I exit her room, turning off the lights, the spinning night light casting little suns around her room. I walked to my office, the one Heli- dad gave me a while after I got settled here and started “High Lord training” as he likes to call it. I finish some paperwork before retiring to my chambers, bathing and sleeping.

The next morning, after breakfast I head over to the library. This one is smaller than most of the grand libraries of the Day Court. This is where most of our ancient texts are stored and I’m running an errand for Helion. I walk in and can’t help but notice how it looks so different from most libraries. There are some shelves, yes but the books are covered and bound, protected. There are chests, no doubt filled with parchment and rolls of ancient text. I walk in, looking at the list of texts I’m supposed to retrieve and start searching for the specific books and scrolls he requested so we can go over them this afternoon but many of the covers and titles are covered to keep them protected. I reach for one and…

“Do not touch the books!” A female voice reprimands and I look around to find the source. A female stands, with a stack of books in her arms, at the end of this book shelf. She peaks over her stack of books, “please wait by the front desk and I’ll be with you in a moment,” she walks off and by the time I reach the spot she stood in, looking both ways, she’s gone.

I wait by the “front desk” which consists of a small desk and an uncomfortable looking bench with a few fae lights floating around. Ten minutes go by before the female speed walks behind her desk, “sorry for the wait, how can I help you?”

“I’m looking for these,” I hand her the list. Her eyebrows scrunch in concentration as she reads through and her lips twitch and purse.

“Some of these are very ancient texts…” she asks, definitely searching for something as she looks in my eyes. Pausing on the left side of my face and I see it; the fight between wanting to look over my scar and being polite and keeping eye contact with my natural eye.

“Yeah… I know…”

“Alright, it’ll take me a while to get these from storage. If you want to you can come back in about an hour-”

“It’s alright. I’ll wait.” I nod to her and give her a tight lipped smile. She bites her lip and set my list down on her desk.

“These texts aren’t just something you can check out like a library book. I’ll need to call my superior to get clearance to let them leave this library. And even if I do, it’ll only be for a day or two.”

I blink. “Clearance?”

She nods. “Yes.”

This is awkward, I don’t want to tell her Helion is my father, it’d sound like I’m throwing my title around, “alright. I’ll… be back in an hour then?” She nods and I go to a café nearby to wait.

When I return she has everything ready for me on a small cart. She’s at her desk writing and I clear my throat as I approach. She jumps, “oh! I- I’m sorry,” she scrambles up, looking into my eyes for only a second before casting them down and going to the cart behind her. “Here. It’s all there, bring them back whenever you can and just…” she wrings her hands, “be gentle, please.”

Her demeanor has completely changed from just an hour ago and I have a good idea why. “Thank you. I’ll have them back as soon as I can.”

She nods but her eyes dart from her shoes to the cart to my shoes and then back to hers again. “Take your time,” she mumbles. I don’t know what else to say so I take the cart and roll it until it’s outside the wards protecting the library and winnow to Day Court Palace. This is the part of being a High Lord that Tamlin always hated; how people changed completely once they realized who stood before them. Either shaking with fear or bowing with respect. It’s lonely. And I feel it more everyday, yes I have Venous and my mother and a father who cares and loves me but I crave friends to go out drinking with, to flirt with females, to go hunting or fishing or do anything at all for pleasure and to share it with someone, a friend or otherwise. With a sigh I enter my father’s office, rolling the cart with all the texts he requested on them.

“That took you a while,” he lifts a brow, not in anger but in curiosity.

“Yeah,” I start to take things off the cart and place them on the large, round table in the middle of his office. “The librarian said she needed to get clearance and then it would take a while for her to get everything together.”

“Clarence?” He sounds surprised.

I chuckle, “that’s what I said.”

“And I’m guessing you didn’t tell her who you were,” it’s not a question.

I sigh, “no. It feels like bragging… it was never like this in Autumn. They knew me but I was no one, here they-”

“Respect you?” He smirks.

I chuckle, “something like that.”

“Maybe if you were honest but humble they’d warm to you on a personal level, hiding who you are to those who don’t know won’t do you any good. Venus is your only friend and though I love my little morning star, that’s sad.”

As if saying her name summoned her, she busts through the office door, surely running away from her governess again, her crimson curls loose from what looks to be the remnants of a braid.

“Papa! Papa!” She runs in and hides behind his legs as her governess comes in after her, out of breath and apologizing. Helion assures her that it’s alright and he’ll look after his daughter for a while. Venus reaches for one of the books I just placed on the table and I pick her up and bring her away from it. I get one of the other, replaceable, books from a shelf and hand it to her. She opens it to a random page before pretending to read, making up her own story.

(Three Days Later)

I roll the cart into the library and the female is nowhere to be seen. “Hello?” Silence. Eerie silence. I leave the cart near her table and start walking through the stacks. When I’m about to give up I spot the female in the very back balancing on the stool that’s supposed to be behind her desk, reaching for something on the top shelf, her tongue peaks out in concentration. As her fingers brush the object and the stool wobbles. “You want help?” Her head turns so fast I’m sure the stool will tip over but she holds onto the shelf in front of her. She looks like she’s about to give me a scolding until her eyes widen as she meets mine and realization dawns on her face. She turns away and starts to get down.

“No, no. It’s alright the ladder was old and it broke a little while ago. It’s not important, just a little extra organizing.” She bites her lip, facing me, back straight, chin high but eyes avoidant. “Do… you need something… sir- Lord?”

“Lucien.”

“Lord Lucien. Do you need anything?”

I chuckle and walk past her to where the stool is. “Just Lucien is fine. And no, I don’t need anything, I just came to drop off the things I came for a few days ago.” I put my knee on the stool for leverage and push myself up, easily grabbing what she needed from the top shelf.

“Thank you… Lucien,” she bows her head slightly and still won’t look me in the eye as she reaches for the box in my hand. I move it out of her reach, and pick up the stool before she can reach for that too. “I’ve got it,” I start walking back To her desk and she follows, eyeing me and the box like she’s expecting me to drop it. I pretend to and she gasps, desperately taking hold of the box and carrying it the rest of the way, setting it gently on her desk.

“You know… I won’t bite if you look at me.”

“Cause if you did, you’d want seconds,” the smirk comes and goes from her face, replaced by mortification as she scrambles for an apology. “I- I- I don’t know where that came from. I’m sorry, it was a reflex, I’m a bit of a jokester at heart, really I mean no offense.” I put both my hands on the table, leaning on it and chuckle at her flushed cheeks, she once again looks down at her table. It’s not a meek gesture, it’s not out of fear but out of respect, for my title, my station… but it is respect, regardless of what it stems from.

I can feel a smirk growing on my face as I concoct my response, “maybe I would,” she whips her head towards me. A hard expression taking over her features, her chin raised just a centimeter higher than humble. She looks me in the eyes for a second. Two. Three. Eyes flickering between russet and gold until her expression softens, her chin lowers and she goes back to looking at her table.

“Thank you for bringing them back. I’m sure you took great care of them…” she gestures to the cart I brought in, looking like she’s about to say more but doesn’t.

Maybe if you were honest but humble they’d warm to you on a personal level…

My father’s words bounce around in my head and I smirk, feeling remnants of my old, rakish self resurfacing for just a moment. She is a beautiful female as far as I can tell, her dress is modest and the library is dark but I'd take a chance, taking her into the sunny streets of the village nearby to see how she looks in that light. “What time do you get out of here? Maybe you can show me a few good places around here.” As if my father hadn’t shown me every nook and cranny of this court.

She blinks, “I don’t think you’d like the village at the time I get off.”

“Why not?”

“Not many fancy restaurants open at 3 am,” I gape slightly.

“3 am?!” She just nods.

“The other girl comes at 2:30 am and stays until 2:30 pm when I come back.”

“12 hour shifts?” She nods, “why so many hours?”

“These are the most ancient texts in the Day Court. This building is protected with every protection spell known to this Court’s High Lord. But they always want someone to look over the books and the artifacts and make sure they’re being taken care of.”

“So what? You don’t have a life?”

She scowls, “I have a life.”

I smirk, enjoying getting under her skin, “oh yeah? What do you do?” I challenge.

“I cook, and I eat, and I read and sleep, and … I…”

“Do everything that has absolutely nothing to do with having a life?” Another scowl. “When’s your day off?”

“Don’t have one,” she takes her stool and pulls it behind her table, sitting.

“Holidays?”

“I work through them.”

“What?!”

“The female who alternates with me has kids. I work holidays so she can be with them.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Mmmm… three years soon. When I first came to the Day Court. They needed someone to fill this position and I was new enough to the Court that I took anything I could get.”

I chuckle, “no wonder you didn’t know who I was, you’ve been living under a rock.”

“Maybe I like my rock,” her eyes narrow.

“This is the Day Court. When was the last time you went out on a sunny day?”

“I have my lunch outside everyday. We aren’t allowed to eat in here. And I walk to and from work so I see plenty.” There’s no way. She has no idea what she’s missing. Some twisted part of me wants to take this innocent, good little thing and show her every bit of this court, shake up her world and burst this small bubble she’s been living in. To find out what makes her tick…

“I’m picking you up tonight. 3 am sharp.”

“Have you thought that I might have plans?”

“Do you have plans?” I smirk, knowing the answer.

“No, but I could have… had… plans.”

“3 am”

“I’ll be tired.”

“It won’t take long.”

“I’ll be stinky, this place smells of the dead.”

“I’ve stayed here this long, right? Plus, we’ll be outside, I’m sure your stench will be much more tolerable,” I smile and wink. Her hand goes to a mug holding pencils and old ink pens. I’m pretty sure that if we weren’t in such a delicate place and I wasn’t who she knows I am, she’d have thrown it at my head. I smirk and walk out, “see you later!”

I can’t believe I just did that. I haven’t even flirted with a female since the bond snapped with Elain! A weird feeling settles in my chest at the memory of such pain when she outright rejected the bond. I was sure I’d die, and she didn't care, didn’t even seem to feel a fraction of the chest crushing pain I did. I shake the thought away before I chicken out of tonight.

Reader POV

When Marianne walks in I’m ready to bolt out the door, grabbing my bag, hauling it over my shoulder and practically running out the door, hoping to avoid the Day Court heir. Maybe he was right, I have been living under a rock. Maybe I should’ve known who he was. Maybe I should be doing a lot of things. I have a calm, stable job that allows me to work on my own little projects and read my books while on the clock as long as I do everything I need to do for that day. And life is good. I don’t need to get involved with the royalty of this court, especially not for a handsome face. As I’m about to round the building and take the trail to my apartment a body comes into view. “Running away from me, pretty?” He twists a red rose between his fingers.

I roll my eyes, “no. Just a long day.”

“Great. Here,” he hands me the rose with the most feral smirk I’ve ever seen, “to mask your stench.” I bite my tongue to keep my own little come back from making an appearance. Reminding myself that he is Lucien SpellCleaver. He is the High Lord’s son. He is untouchable. “Come,” he speaks softly and extends his elbow for me. I take it, somewhat reluctantly. I take in his clothes; they aren’t usual for the Day Court. People here love wearing loose fitting clothing and as little of it as possible… he wears tight white pants, gold plated boots that raise to his thighs and a loose, cream tunic.

We walk and talk and walk and talk and walk some more. He carries the conversation, quickly catching on that I am not open to sharing. But he is. He tells me about his mother, his father and his sister. He tells me how she’s his world and how she treats him like he hung the moon, the sun and all the stars in the sky. Slowly but surely a smile appears on my face as he talks. Retelling stories of his sister’s shenanigans and how she likes to imitate him. How she is reluctant to go to her lectures and take baths and go to sleep, all because she wants her big brother.

Soon the sound of music fills my ears and I look around, seeing lights ahead. “We’re here,” he says. Earning a grumble from me about how it was about time. We walk closer and see fireflies illuminating the grassy field around a large fire. People are dancing and eating and laughing. Like a little local festival. I smile as kids run around us. “I love this part of the village. They’re not the most well off but the community is so warm and welcoming. They celebrate everything, sometimes nothing at all. I thought someone like you might appreciate it.”

“Someone like me?” I lift a brow.

“You spend your days surrounded by ancient texts that talk about our history. You really want me to believe you’ve never read any of it? It’s an aquired taste… but you learn to find joy in the simple things.”

“So I’m simple?” I say, unimpressed. His eyes narrow, the russet one darkening a shade.

“Stop being a brat and enjoy yourself.” His mechanical eye whirs and the russet one has a fire in it, only for a moment. The demand makes my cheeks heat, a heat that travels down to my core and I clench, hoping to keep the scent from reaching his keen, fae sense of smell. He walks us over to a food stand and they hand us some sort of wrap. I take a bite and moan at the explosion of flavor. “Is that what you sound like in bed?” That smirk again…

Fine. I’ll play along. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would.”

“Hasn’t the High Lord taught you that such flirtations can be looked down upon by your subjects?”

“They aren’t my ‘subjects,’ they’re my Court. And my father is a big believer of seizing the moment and enjoying life.” I ponder that while taking another bite of the delicious cuisine.

When we’re done eating he takes me to the dance floor. I hesitate but he pulls and pulls and ends up picking me up and taking me there despite my protests that I don’t dance, especially not the kind of dance they were doing… ”I’ve never been here, I don’t know how to move like they do,”

“They’re all doing their own thing. Ignore everyone and just dance with me!” He smiles, my body is stiff so he picks me up and places my feet atop his boots, doing all the work for me. We get a drink and keep dancing. I let loose after the second drink, feeling the liquid courage like electricity in my veins. The alcohol in the Day Court is much stronger than any other place I’ve been to, but it’s also the most delicious. There is such a variety! Sweet and bitter, spicy and soothing… I want to try it all but decide against it as Lucien spins me around and the world keeps moving even after he’s stopped. “Lightweight, are we?”

“I’m not lightweight! I’ve had more than you!” I playfully hit his arm. We laugh and eat some more, dance some more, drink some more… he walks me home and kisses my cheek.

From then on, everyday Lucien appears at the library during my shifts. Once he learns my schedule he starts to pop in to have lunch with me. And he’ll walk me home at unholy hours of the night, giving me flowers and taking me somewhere special along the way every once in a while. His sarcasm comes with a charm that I don’t think he can help. His little jabs make me roll my eyes and smile at the same time.

(Two months later)

“Go out with me.” It’s not a question.

I smile, “no.”

Every few days he’ll ask again. And again. And… again.

Come to dinner with me

Let me take you on a date

Come on, go out with me… please?

Always followed by a spicy comment and that sly smirk of his.

I’ll make it worth your while

You know you want me

I would treat you so good

Each and every line sends a tendril of pleasure down my spine. And every time…

No

What makes you think I’m interested?

Give up

But he doesn’t, he asks and asks until one night, we’re back at the same place he took me that first night. Fire burning, people dancing, music playing and he spins me around like I’m nothing but a feather in his arms. He sets me down gently and I look up at him. His fiery hair, his mismatched eyes, those perfect, possibly, probably tasty lips, parted as he pants slightly from all the dancing. My eyes land on the scars on the left side of his face. I lift my right hand to it, the other clutching his bicep. “How?” It’s barely a whisper, but he hears it and cringes, realizing what I’m touching, what I’m asking. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

“Who?”

“An evil queen,” he smirks.

“Oh… and you’re the knight in shining armor, are you?”

“At the time I was more of the silver tongued best friend of the knight in shining armor,” he smiles down at me, pulling me closer, only slightly. “But I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

Fuuuuuckkkk! Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuckidy fuck fuck…

Fuck it.

I kiss him. hard and deep and full of passion. Would I say the two and a half drinks I had gave me enough courage? Yes. But he’s here, and I’m here and his lips are on mine and it’s heaven. It’s silk and it’s velvet and honey and cinnamon, it’s hot but gentle, firm but oh so sweet. And then he lifts me, wrapping his arms around my thighs, hugging them, not giving me a chance to wrap them around his waist and I’m in heaven, my head is higher than his and I’m in control. He gave me control. I could pull away and be out of his reach but I lean down and move my lips against his. I part my lips for him but he makes to move besides slightly nudging my nose with his. Refusing to take a step he’s not sure I’ll regret. So I take it, I snake my tongue past his parted lips and taste him. And there it is. His appearance screams Autumn Court and even though his scent has the softest hint of aloe vera among the pine and cinnamon and oak, Lucien tastes like Day. It’s inexplicable. He tastes like light. He tastes like all the best things in the world combined, like the land of milk and honey that they pray to the Mother about.

We part and I kiss his scar. I hiss over the marred eyelid and down his cheek, onto his jaw. He lets out a breath. Of arousal? Relief? I don’t know. But the way he says my name…

“(Y/N)”

The sound that comes from me is not appropriate for the current setting so he puts me down and scrambles for my bag, the rose he gave me earlier today poking out the opening. He throws me over his shoulder and runs to my apartment, climbing the stairs until we’re at my door and he puts me down, kissing me again. He doesn’t ask me to open my door. Doesn’t ask me for the keys. He makes no move to go inside and it only makes me want him more.

He pulls away, “go out with me? On a date. A real date.” He presses his forehead to mine. He’s never quite asked those sorts of questions, he’s more so told me to go on a date with him, firm, confident but tonight his voice is borderline begging and through my daze I smirk.

“Will you make it worth my while?”

He smiles and nods, “every second.” He kisses me again but soon we both realize it needs to end. I go into my apartment and he goes back to his palace. I ponder over my night as I bathe and get ready for bed. I can’t do this. The heir of Day? I facepalm and blip down on my bed, cursing my horny self until I fall asleep.

For our first date Lucien pays the owner of his favorite restaurant to stay open until 4 am. It’s perfect. The soft string music, the food, the bottle of wine he chose and the fae light illuminating the only table occupied. Then he takes me to the observatory and shows me the stars up close.

Dating Lucien is as easy as breathing. He puts great amounts of effort into everything he does and never misses a chance to reassure me and make sure I know that my arms are the ones he wants around his neck, that it’s my lips he wants against his. He never hesitates to kiss me, no matter where we are. He’s playful and lighthearted but also ready and willing to open up and be vulnerable, as hard as it is. Which, in turn, encourages me to do the same.

The first time I let Lucien stay the night I make him promise to behave. Which he does. He showers and changes into sweats and then I shower and change into some modest sleepwear. Besides a few kisses and his hand around my waist, Lucien is the perfect gentlemale. So, in the morning, I decide to surprise him with waffles… wearing his tunic from the night before. I make everything from scratch and as I pour the batter on the hot metal over the fire, warm hands come around my waist.

“It smells delicious,” he kisses my head. Then my temple. Then my cheek and my jaw. Then down my neck and ooohhh… gods.

“You behaved so well last night I thought you served a treat!” I smirk.

“Mhmm,” he mumbles as he continues his assault on my neck. He takes one of the cooking waffles and bites into it. “These are amazing!”

“I wasn’t talking about the waffles,” I smirk.

He leans down to my ear and I put away the rest of the batter. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t joke like that.”

“Who said it was a jo-ahhhhh!” He slings me over his shoulder and marches to the bedroom like a male on a mission.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes!”

“Are you sure?” The desperation in his voice is prominent and only makes me want him more.

“Yes!” I chuckle. He worships my body, feeling for it like a blind male trying to memorize a line of text. “You… oh! You can be rougher if you want.”

“How rough?” He nips at my ear.

I smirk, “how ever rough you wanna be.” With a growl he only holds back enough to have me pick a safe word before ravaging me in the most delicious ways.

Sex with Lucien is… it simply is. There’s no feeling like it. The fluidity in it. The way he can so effortlessly go from making love with slow, deep strokes to flipping me over and practically breeding me is mind boggling. He’s not afraid to share his kinks and explore my own. And I can never tell what he’ll be in the mood for. Sometimes he’ll want to do nothing but torture and tease me half the night. Others, he’s feral, wanting nothing but to fill me as many times as he can. And some nights, all he wants is to hold my hips tightly as I ride him and call him ‘my good boy.’

Four months into our relationship and I’ve been putting off letting his family for weeks. I can tell he doesn’t want to push but also doesn’t understand my hesitation. Meeting the parents is a big deal and I’m not ready for the pressure… though putting it off has proven to be more stressful than getting it over with lately. So, here I stand, 8 am, with enchanted flowers in one hand and a book in the other and Lucien’s hand on the small of my back. He refused to let me bring food, stating that his family was hosting breakfast, so I've spent the past week wracking my brain for gifts for his parents. “I can’t.”

“You can!”

“I’m gonna throw up…” and he kisses me.

“You’ll be fine. I’ve got you,” his smile is reassuring and his eyes hold no lies. But my mind, my heart, knows that after everything he’s been through. All the things he was willing to share. He would never choose me over his family, at least… not this one. So his attempt at reassurance, for once, falls flat.

His parents come to meet us at the front steps and my legs shake as I curtsy. His mother clicks her tongue, “oh none of that!” She pulls me into a hug that I hesitate to reciprocate due to the suddenness of it. The High Lord laughs at his High Lady’s excitement and kisses my hand once she lets me go. Now I see where Lucien gets his charm…

“Come,” the High Lord’s voice is warm and inviting, “breakfast is being served on the veranda.” He wraps an arm around his lady’s waist and Lucien does the same to me and guides me around the palace. His parents are incredibly welcoming and I notice neither of them wear their crowns or any other marker that would separate them from the common folk.

“Here…” I hand the enchanted flowers to the High Lady, “they’ll stay in bloom for several years.” The I tune to the High Lord and offer him the hardcover book, “Lucien mentioned you liked his works and I got my hands on an advanced copy of the next book in the series. It’s yours to keep.” He examines the book, the 15th in a fantasy series that had put many readers in a chokehold. The High Lord lets out an excited chuckle before putting an arm around me and whispering to Lucien something about me ‘being a keeper.’ I smile at the compliment and he leads me the rest of the way to the breakfast table, covered in all kinds of dough and jams and juices… everything looks delicious!

It takes a few minutes but I relax, the High Lady not hesitating to ask me every question that pops into her mind. But I’m happy to oblige until…

“Mommy?” A high pitched, clear sleepy voice asks from the door. All our heads turn to see the newcomer, “why are you having breakfast so early?!” She whines and rubs her eyes. The Day Court is known for late mornings. The High Lord and Lady, being aware of my schedule, offered an earlier breakfast since they were so eager to meet me.

Lady Day picks up her daughter and explains, “we’re meeting Lucien’s girlfriend today, dear. She has to be at work in a few hours so we wanted to meet her while accommodating her schedule.” Her sleepy eyes follow her mother’s finger that’s outstretched towards me. The small female’s eyebrows furrow and before I can fully raise my hand to wave she turns her head and places it on her mother’s shoulder. “Oh come, Vena! Be nice,” the High Lady looks to me then, “she’s… shy.” I nod, even though that sounded nothing like the little girl Lucien has so often described to me.

“You know, Vena… (Y/N) and I were thinking we could take you for ice cream this afternoon during her lunch break.”

“No thank you,” the little female Mumbles into her mother’s shoulder. The slight sting of rejection reaches my body and I fidget, no longer feeling at ease here. Breakfast goes on and the small female doesn’t eat anything, opting to keep her head hidden in her mother’s neck and away from me.

As Lucien and I start to make our way out of the Palace, his hand around my waist when we read footsteps and his arm is yanked from my waist as Venus tugs him back. “Lushy, come play!”

He crouches down to her level and ruffles her hair, “I’ll walk (Y/N) to work and then we can play! Dad and I only have meetings in the evening. And maybe you can rethink that ice cream with me and (Y/N)?” His back is to me but I see the slight nod he gives in my direction. The female simply folds her arms, furrows her eyebrows and pouts.

“It’s ok, Loosh…” I cautiously interrupt, “I can walk to work.” I give him a smile as he turns his head to me, still crouching down.

“No, I want to walk you, her and I have all afternoon,” that million dollar smile appears again and he kisses his sister’s chubby cheeks before standing. I want him to stay. Maybe if I can prove to Venus that I’m not stealing Lucien away she’ll warm to me.

He takes my hand and I squeeze them, “you should stay,” I look down at the pouting female who doesn’t meet my eye. “Maybe you can convince her to get ice cream later,” I smile encouragingly and rise on the balls of my feet to kiss his cheek. He sighs but complies. “Bye Venus!” I smile at her and wave but she doesn’t look, I bite my lip and walk towards the large open doors of the Palace. I don’t look back, but I can hear Lucien quietly scolding her for being rude and her lively changing the subject to what she wants to play.

Around 3 pm Lucien shows up, alone, with two ice creams obviously enchanted not to melt. “Couldn’t convince her, huh?”

He sighs and hands me my ice cream, “no.” He doesn’t say anything else because there is nothing to say. A few minutes pass before I ask the question that’s been bouncing around in my head since I left the Palace.

“Do you think there’s anything I can do?”

“She’s… territorial.”

“I’m not stealing you away.” A part of me fears he may believe that’s what I’m trying to do.

“I know that,” He kisses my head with a chuckle, scooching closer. “But she’s little and she’s a bit used to having her way. And I’ll say it; I’m partially responsible. I’ve never had a sibling I was close to and she loves me so much I- I can’t tell her ‘no.’”

I kiss his cheek, remembering all he told me about growing up in Autumn, “I know.”

Lucien smoothly changes the subject to a lighter topic and exerts his power of putting me at ease.

By our 8th month together I’m a somewhat regular visitor to the Day Court Palace. I’ve stayed the night once or twice and the High Lady braided my hair each of those mornings, much to Venus’ distress. Her crimson curls are still too short to braid like mine and her mother tries to appease her with bows and clips but to no avail. I’ve tried and tried to gain her approval but it’s quite clear the small female never wants to be in my company. Soon enough I start to believe there’s something wrong with me… kids can sense those thighs, right? When someone isn’t a good person? Maybe she can sense something the others can’t. And it seems like she will do anything to make me go away at every chance she gets.

Like the time I came looking for Lucien one morning only to find him in the Palace’s library with Venus on his shoulder holding a book for her big brother;

“Hey there you two!” I greet.

“Hey!” He greets me with a kiss, “I wasn’t expecting you this morning.”

“I had some time and I wanted to bring you these,” I hand him a tray of cupcakes, “my friend had the amazing idea of making cupcakes last night after a few glasses of wine but they didn’t turn out half bad!”

He laughs and looks at the cupcakes, “I hope they taste better than they look?”

“Trust me they - ow!” A hard object comes crashing down on my head and my hand flies to the point of impact.

A soft giggle and a sang out, “sowy,” has Lucien pulling his sister off his shoulders and representing her. She pouts but looks disinterested in his lecture. He puts her down to examine the bump forming on my hairline and she tugs at his pants in protest.

“No, Vena! You could’ve really hurt her!” At his reprimand she huffs and pushes my leg before running out of the library. Lucien fusses over me but the sting on my head is nothing compared to the fire in my veins.

“Go after her.”

“She’s fine.” He tries to move my hand that’s covering the spot the book hit.

“No. I’m fine. Just go after her, I need to go to work anyway.” I take a deep breath and take the cupcake tray from his hand, setting it on a nearby table. He follows, hovering behind me.

“You’re angry?” He’s confused?!

“No.” Yes, “she needs you more than I do,” she does. I turn to kiss his cheek and he goes to kiss my lips. I kiss back but it’s half assed and I kick myself for it. She’s 3, almost 4 years old! How am I letting a child get under my skin like this?

I walk out of the library in a rush, leaving Lucien there with a slight frown on his perfect lips.

Or the time I got off early from work to join them for dinner;

“It’s so lovely to have you around. Lucien seems so much happier when you’re here, like there’s a lightheartedness only you bring out in him.” The High Lady sips her wine as we sit on the balcony after dinner. Below us, Lucien and Helion are sparring, the sight of his bare, scared chest making it hard not to think about how every single inch of that chest feels under my fingers. How I’ve kissed each scar and the sounds he made when I did….

I need a cold shower.

I seemingly get my wish as cold, freezing water pours on my head. My yelp causing the sparring to cease. The cold night air much more prominent now. We all look up to see a giggling Venus holding an empty glass through the marble pillars that make up the balcony above. Her governess rushes to reprimand her and the High Lady rushes to apologize and gets me something to dry myself with. The High Lord offers me a spare room and bath but I decline and Lucien walks me home even after I tell him several times I want to walk alone.

“You could’ve spent the night…”

“You know I don’t like to.”

He sighs, “I don’t like that you don’t like it,” we reach my door and before I can put the key in the lock he takes my hands. “I’m sorry about tonight. I don’t know why Venus keeps doing these things-”

“Because she doesn’t like me.”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes! It is! And no matter what I do she won’t like me. I’ve tried. I get her gifts and she rolls her eyes or she’ll say she already has that toy. I give her compliments and she acts like I don’t exist! I offer her ice cream, candies, baked goods or even fun activities and she looks at me like I’m a peasant begging for scraps! I can’t even be near you in her presence without getting something thrown, poured or yanked off me!”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“And it’s gonna work this time?” He opens his mouth but ends up biting his lip. And I know this is the beginning of the end. I’d never ask him to choose, that’d be petty and idiotic. And relationships tend not to work if the family doesn’t like one’s partner. “Good night, Loosh.” I kiss him. Deeply, like it’s the last time, before opening my door and heading inside, deciding to take a hot bath.

25 days….

25 days before our one year anniversary and I’m thinking of if I should end it. How I should end it. I sit in the library, having finished all my filing and paperwork early, trying to read my book but I can’t concentrate. My thoughts are too loud.

I know Lucien knows his sister dislikes me but he keeps making excuses!

She’s a prankster

She’s a little jealous, she’s never shared me before

You’re my females, you’ll get along eventually

No. We won’t. We haven’t. And the more time I spend with him, the more time I spend at the palace I realize how this relationship is bound to end. So I sit in my sad little stool and cry.

17 days…

I’m in Day Court Palace early in the morning and I wait for Lucien in his study. I sit there for a moment, I’ve only been in his study a handful of times and never for long. So I leisurely browse the books on his shelves, the maps framed on his walls and after I’ve done about three, slow rounds around the room I allow myself to sit in his chair and look around. I catch a glimpse of a frame on his desk, it’s the letter I wrote him for Solstice, given along with some gift I hated. What do you even give to a male who has it all? So I gave him love and affection. I told him in writing how much he means to me and how much hope I have for us and this relationship.

I frown.

Had. I had hope for it.

I reach for the frame and accidentally knock the trash can under his desk over, “shit.” I push the chair back and get down on my hands and knees to pick up the loose papers. Putting everything back in the bin a flash of color catches my eye in a slowly crumpled paper. Not a ball but like it was clenched in a fist and tossed aside. I open it up, even though I shouldn’t, in curiosity. The air is taken from me and tears brim my eyes. It’s me. Drawn in crayon, the colorful picture leaves nothing to the imagination regarding how Benus feels about me. The almost 3 year old drew my hair a mess, my clothes in tatters! Sharp teeth, claws, horns and stinky lines above my head. An arrow going from the wrong spelling of my name with a few letters written backwards.

And then there was Lucien, drawn much smaller and with swirls for eyes, like I’m hypnotizing him. I fold the paper, as small as I can and clench it in my hand. I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath. I write Lucien’s note and leave it on. His desk. Some bull shit about needing to be at the library earlier than expected and I take off, holding myself back from running out of the Palace. Praying to any gods listening that I don’t bump into any member of the High family.

12 days….

I’ve been putting it off. It’s too hard. Everytime I look at him my heart clenches, begging me to stay, To keep him with me. But then that picture pops into my head and I find myself fighting tears. The drawing lies hidden inside an old book in my nightstand drawer and I think it’s what’s keeping me from sleeping. The day I found the drawing I had been at the Palace to tell Lucien that the Library acquired a third person to work there and I now have one day off a week! And I still haven’t told him.

I fooled him two days ago, going to sit at my usual picnic table by the library around my lunch hour but I don’t know if I have the strength to get out of bed today.

But, alas, I do.

I go to the Palace, at Lucien’s request from last night, so he can walk me to work. And after two excuses weren’t enough to deter him from walking me, I gave in.

I meet him at the entrance and he kisses me and I go on my tippy toes to deepen it. For a moment everything is ok… it’s moments like these that make me want to stay, makes me want to put up with anything Venus is willing to plan for, to stay here, in this moment, in his arms.

The moment is short lived as I feel a force crash against my leg, causing me to lose my footing and if Lucien wasn’t so fast I’d have hit the floor. I look down to where the impact happened and a pouting Venus stands there, her mother in tow.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N)!” The High Lady apologizes, picking up her daughter and giving her a dangerous look.

“It’s alright,” I wave off. She’s done worse.

My face might be showing more than I intended because the High Lady’s eyes soften when she meets mine. Offering an apologetic yet understanding expression.

Lucien crouches to her level, “come on Vena… stop this!” He practically begs his sister, tugging at her arms to get her to uncross them but she won’t budge, turning away from him and raising her arms to her mother. My heart aches. I did this. I, somehow, caused this rift between them. I need to do it. Now!

But then he looks at me and I can’t… “I’m sorry about her…” he rubs the back of his neck and I shake my head.

“Don’t worry about it,” he takes my hand, surely ready to walk me to work like everything is fine. “Maybe you should spend some time with her,” I nod to Venus, still clinging to the High Lady.

Lucien shakes his head, “I spent all day with her yesterday and I miss you,” he presses his forehead to mine.

Don’t. Cry. “I missed you too…” I don’t know if I can make it to the library without crying. “But she still needs you. It’s only twenty minutes to the library, I think I’ll survive,” I smile.

“But you walked all the way here! And I want to.”

Before I can respond Venus lets out an unimpressed whine and I want to run out of there. “Maybe she needs more ‘brother time,’” I offer a big smile and force it to reach my eyes.

Lucien deflates a bit but then looks at Venus and sighs, a signal that he’ll comply. “I’ll see you tonight though,” it’s not a question.

I nod, “I’ll see you tonight,” and I back away, letting my hands slip out of his as he stretches out his arms, holding me for as long as he can. As I turn I catch a glimpse of Lady Day, Venus’ face tucked into her neck and that apologetic and understanding expression gaining a hint of sadness.

I was right. I don’t make it to the library without crying.

Lucien comes for lunch and I’m sure he can tell something’s off. I’m quieter through lunch but I tell him it’s a headache and he seems to leave it be.

He picks me up at the end of my shift and takes me to another late night festival. We always have fun at these and I want to cry at how poetic ending this relationship on a night like this feels. I steal every kiss I can. I don’t drink, not a sip. I want this memory untainted. I relish in every last; a last meal, a last laugh, a last hug and dance and whispered words made of honey.

We’re dancing slowly, my head on his chest, taking in his scent like a female in heat when he speaks up. “You know… we’ve been together almost a year.”

“Yeah.” I look up at him, his eyes are full of something I can’t place.

“And there’s something we need to talk about,” oh gods. He’s gonna do it! I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. If he ends it then I don’t have to, I can have it easy and just cower away once all is said and done. “I know it’s early, but I want you to know…”

Oh no! No, no, no! I read it all wrong! I finally place the emotion on his eyes; love.

No. This can’t be happening. Before he can utter another word, my own come tumbling out of me like word-vomit, “we’re done.”

He chuckles, “We’ll go in a second I need to get this off my chest.”

“No. Lucien…” I back away from his hold slightly, his hand on my biceps and mine on his forearms. “We are done. I-” Be brave. Lift your chin and stay strong. I tell myself. “I’m breaking up with you.” I barely keep my voice from breaking but the silent tears are enough to leave me raw for him to see.

“What?” His question is soft. Innocent.

“I can’t do this-”

“Be with me?”

“Yes.”

A beat. Two. Three… gods. “Why?” I give him a knowing, yet, sad look. He puts a hand on my cheek, “(Y/N)…”

“I’m sorry. But I can’t. It’s never going to work out if she doesn’t like me and I’ve accepted the fact that she doesn’t. She’s your sister and she comes first. I can’t-”

“I’ll talk to her. I’ll make her understand this time. She’ll warm up to you! I swear!” I’ve never heard him so desperate and it breaks my heart. So much so that I can do little more than shake my head. My cheeks are wet with new and old tears alike. And his eyes are shining with shed tears too, one slides down his cheek as he blinks. “No,” he breathes, urging me to go back on my decision.

“Yes,” I counter.

“No!”

“Lucien… I can’t do it. I can’t. Me. It’s hurting me.” I gesture to myself. “It’s not just the pranks and the pushing and that scowl she gives me. It’s the fact that she doesn’t like me and worse than that she’s made it clear to everyone! I don’t want to be the reason there’s a rift between you.” I take a step back.

He takes a step forward, “you’re not causing a rift.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” I give him a look that says, don’t lie to me.

“(Y/N) please!”

“You can’t say you didn’t see thi-”

“Don’t do this!”

“Lucie-”

“You want me to beg?” He drops to his knees, holding my waist, “I’ll beg!”

“Get up.”

“(Y/N)!”

“Lucien!” I try to get free from his grip but he holds me tight. People look and walk away slightly so we get the illusion of privacy and the band starts to play a notch louder. “Get. Up.”

He shakes his head and looks up into my eyes, “I love you! There. I said it. I love you! That’s what I was going to tell you.”

I cry more, shaking my head. “It doesn’t change the fac-”

“Do you love me?”

“What?”

“Do you love me?! Do you love me back?”

“Lucien…”

“Answer!” He yells. Yes. I want to say. I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you. I love you. I love you. I want to tell him in every way, in every language, twice over for good measure.

“No.”

He deflates. “You’re lying,” he’s sure of himself. I see it in his eyes. There’s no doubt that he knows I love him back and me not saying it doesn’t change the fact that I do.

I finally get out of his hold. He’s on his feet in an instant scrambling to keep a hold of my hands, my wrists, my arms, anything he can grab a hold of to keep me here. I snake my hands away but he keeps chasing them with his own. Every step back for me is just another half step forward for him.

And he begs again, “(Y/N) please! I’ve spent my entire life begging to be loved. Yearning for a love like this! I spent so long thinking I’d never get it, that I don’t deserve it! After my mate rejected me I thought fate had forsaken me and that I was destined to be alone. And when Venus was born I took it as a sign, a sign that I would not be the one to continue my blood line… and then you,” his voice breaks, he still scrambles to catch my avoidant hands. “You give me all I wanted and more… for free. You ask for nothing in return and more than that you make me feel like I actually deserve it! So please, don’t take it away. Stay. Please! Please. Please…”

“You are loved, Lucien. Despite me. You have the loving family you’ve always deserved, you have a sister who loves you to death!”

“That’s not the kind of love I’m talking about and you know it!” He repremends.

I sigh and cup his face, “I am not your person. But she’s out there. And you will find her. And if you truly believe you love me, the wrong person… imagine how much you’ll love the right one when she comes along,” he closes his eyes, leaning into my touch and shaking his head.

“I did find her.” When he opens his eyes I see defeat. I drop my hand form his cheek and try to think of something to say. Something to soothe his aching heart…

But there is nothing.

I back away and he doesn’t follow. I back away again but his feet are planted to his spot. I take a deep breath, taking him in again one last time before the tears blur him to me, allowing my body to turn around and fully walk away from him. I don’t remember getting home or bathing or eating but I wake up with wet hair and dirty dishes the next morning and for the first time since I started working at the library, I send a request to have one of the others fill in for my shift for the next few days.

Lucien’s POV

I cry all the way back to the Palace, forcing my breathing to be steady despite how hard my heart is beating against my ribs. I go into a random room, throwing a vase at the wall before crumpling down onto a couch and crying into my hands.

“Darling?” Mom’s soft voice sounds from the door and I can hear her soft, slipper-covered steps making their way to me. “I heard a crash, are you-” a soft gasp leaves her lips as she takes me in. “Oh, dear… I’m so sorry,” she sits beside me and rubs my arms, laying her head on my shoulder. “I didn’t think she’d do it so soon…”

My head whips to her, “what?”

“Well, come now, you must’ve known… or… well… perhaps you didn’t see...”

“See what?”

She bites her lip, “I knew that Venus’ actions bothered her but it wasn’t until this morning that I saw it in her eyes. The resolve, the hurt…”

My blood heats and the fireplace comes to life at my anger, “and you didn’t tell me?” I hiss.

“I was going to warn you tonight. I thought you had more time… I am sorry.”

I cry into her arms, “I love her, mom. I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s everything. I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my days by her side. I would give her anything! Anything she wanted I’d give… but the one thing she needed… it wasn’t even mine to give.” I lay on her lap as her thin fingers comb through my hair.

I’m almost asleep when the door opens and shuts, a soft, sleepy voice calls out, “mommy? Mommy, I can’t go back to sleep.”

Venus slowly makes her way to us and I pretend to be asleep. My mother answers her, “what woke you up, sweetheart?”

“I needed potty,” I can hear her yawn.

“Oh! At least you woke up this time, that’s good right?”

There’s a pause before she asks, “why’s Lushy here?”

“Lushy had a rough night,”

“Was (Y/N) mean to him?” Her tone is accusatory, only proving (Y/N) right and it takes everything in me to keep my body from shaking with a guttural sob.

My mother sighs, “(Y/N) won’t be coming around anymore, Venus.”

“Really?” She sounds excited…

“Your brother is very upset by it,” my mother reprimands, “please have some sympathy.”

“Sim- siam- sapaty?”

“Sympathy. Please understand that he’s hurting and don’t look too overjoyed at it.”

“Why did she go?”

Mom lets out another sigh, “it’s complicated, sweetheart.”

“Is this grown up stuff again?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Awwweeeee!” I hear her yawn again and I hear shuffling. Probably the sound of her climbing onto the couch on mom’s other side.

About what feels like an hour later mom whispers, “she’s asleep. Go to bed, darling… at least try to rest.”

I don’t move for a few minutes before getting up and wordlessly going to my room. I bathe in scalding water before plopping down in bed and crying myself to sleep.

The next morning I stay in bed until my hunger forces me to scavenge for food. I’d usually ask the servants to prepare something but I’m not looking forward to any fae interactions. I head to the extremely large kitchen and ask one of the kitchen members I know by name for some of last night's left overs. The kitchen makes little portions of what we don’t eat for either them to take home or to be donated the next day. She hands me a box with yesterday's date on it and I thank her, grabbing a fork and eating on the staff’s table in the kitchen. I use my powers to heat up my food, deciding that eating it cold to torture my self it a little much.

On my way back to my room Vena practically runs into me as she runs away from her governess, “Lushy! Come play with me!”

I shake my head, “I’m not feeling well, Vena, maybe some other time?”

She pouts and then lunges for my leg, hugging it, “I hope you feel betta!”

I hold in tears as I pick her up and kiss her chubby cheeks. She holds my face in her tiny hands and says, “I love you Lushy! Best big brodda ever!” She kisses between my eyebrows and I put her down, telling her to behave for her governess. She runs along accepting that I’m in no condition to play.

I wobble back to my room and collapse back on the bed, crying until I’m dehydrated and I fall asleep again. I can’t fix this. I can’t get her back and I can’t make Vena like her. I’m lost… and she’s lost to me.

[mirandasidefics]

Omgg it would be so cool to be a fire bender like azula in acotar, imagine being able to do it

I actually think that those with fire wielding powers in the Autumn court are capable of "bending" and controlling/manipulating fire to varying degrees (pun intended). I think it all depends on their lineage and how powerful they are. Some may only be able to produce heat/warmth or basic flames for a fire, while others have full control over creating fire from nothing and manipulating it to be wielded for whatever need arises.

Actually, now that I think about it, the four seasonal courts could have those that manipulate/"bend" the traditional western elements (earth, air, water, and fire), while the Solar courts would have the capabilities to manipulate variations of light and darkness.

In the books, we see over and over that Rhysand is described as darkness incarnate. Thus, it is safe to say that there could be those in the Night Court that have control over the various aspects of total darkness. With what is learned in HOFAS, a theoretical Dusk court would have those that manipulate Starlight and Shadows. (Side note-Ruhn is a perfect example of what a High Lord or High Lady of the Dusk Court powers could be). Day would be the hot bright-blinding light of midday, whereas Dawn would be softer and cooler and reflect the colors more often seen with the "golden hour" or "blue hour" in the early mornings.

This now makes me what to explore this even further...to the WIP folder it goes!

[mirandasidefics]

Is rhysand able to handle a manipulative reader

This is a difficult one to answer because the Reader that I have envisioned isn't really manipulative. She does hold certain information close to her chest, but she doesn't use the information in a way to twist events or persons to her benefit. Her primary motivation is to stay alive in this world long enough to find a way back home.

If Reader was a highly manipulative person, I feel that Rhysand would be able to catch on. Mainly because he is already so hyper aware of her behaviors. If there was any hint that she was more of a potential threat to the ones he loves he would have been firmer on his stance of keeping her locked up or secluded.

Also, given all the characters that are constantly running psychological circles around each other, a manipulative Reader would fit right in.

[mirandasidefics]

Hey, fic writers.

If you write ACOTAR/TOG fanfiction, LET ME KNOW. Reblog this.

I’m creating a post of fanfic writers to add to my blog bio so my readers can find other beautiful writers.

[mirandasidefics]

if only i "accidentally" teleported into acotar world and dont need to wake up for college classes..

Same, at least in the wanting to "accidently" be transported to a different world/reality. I graduated college nearly 10 years ago now, so...but I can relate to not wanting to have to go to work.

[mirandasidefics]

I dont think rhysand would be able to handle it if reader was like heavily analytic

I don't think so either. I strongly feel that Rhysand would hate having someone constantly question his decisions and motives. Especially if they start to bring up his hypocrisy regarding the progressive culture he is trying to foster. Although, there is the possibility that he would keep someone like that around and even been in the inner circle, or just a step down. I could see a highly analytical type A personality being more or less in charge of running Velaris while he does whatever the fuck he wants. Kinda like how he just lets Keir run the Hewn City.

OR this person would be responsible for overseeing any of the smaller cities and villages within the Night Court. With as large of a territory the Night Court has, I doubt that people are only living in Velaris, the Hewn City, or Illyria. An analytical person would be perfect for managing that level of oversight.

[mirandasidefics]

Do you think i should write a fanfic where Rhysand tries to attack the summer court and i am a council advisor of the summer court defeat him😭😭😭

Go for it! If it brings you joy then definitely do it!

[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere- Bonus Chapter Bryce POV

Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader, and Ruhn Dannan x Plus Size Reader.

Summary: Bryce and Hunt finally meet with those in Hel.

Word Count: 2.5 K

Warnings: None, except for some major spoilers for anyone that hasn't read House of Flame and Shadow or any of the Cresent City series.

Author's Note: Hey all! So, this bonus chapter is pretty much a direct scene from House of Flame and Shadow that has been rewritten to fit the changes I'm making to canon. I recognize that there are a few readers that have not read any of the Cresent City novels (which ya'll really should), so I felt that it was better to present this information in this fashion, rather than just have it explained third hand. It does diverge from canon, but because it also so closely follows what is written by Sarah J Maas, I will include the page numbers that includes this specific scene. Just to avoid any type of plagiarism. This scene is from House of Flame and Shadow, pgs 518-523, 527-535, 538-542

As always, a HUGE thank you to my beta reader @hardcoremarvelfan for all her help!

Series Masterlist Divider by @/tsunami-of-tears

Previous: Chapter 14 Next: Chapter 15

After hours of traveling through the underground tunnels in Avallen, Bryce’s feet finally hit the bottom threshold of Pelias’ tomb. Her amber eyes scanned the darkness and mist shrouding the room. The small stream of water her group had been following trickled through the center as her eyes landed on a black stone bowl and ewer that were placed on top of a carving of an eight-pointed star on the stone ground. Bryce heard Hunt swear under his breath as he too took in the sight of the black stone room. 

“Do you know what this is?” She asked, looking up towards her mate. Her feet brushed over the fine grain debris on the floor. Hunt shook his head as he continued to examine the etching on the ground. 

“This better not be another fucking surprise,” Tharion muttered as he approached the bottom of the stairs, Sathia following closely behind. Bryce ignored the mer as she knelt on the ground, her starlight shining softly making the black dust on the ground glitter with various hues of silver and gold. 

“Oh shit,” Hunt knelt beside her, his face pale. “That better not be what I think it is.” Bryce merely nodded as her fingers traced over the rim of the obsidian bowl. 

“It’s black salt,” Sathia voiced the trepidation they all held. “It’s all black salt…” Her soft voice trailed off. Bryce continued to study the stoneware and the water that flowed and filtered through the black stone. 

“Was Helena trying to summon Silene?” Hunt asked. 

“I don’t think so. I doubt she’d risk that when she intended to save Silene,” Bryce turned to face Hunt. “Helena had only one other ally.” 

“The Princes,” Hunt shook his head. “Burning Solas. That is one fucking big risk for her to take.” 

“Yeah, but it definitely paid off,” Bryce agreed. Her fingers traced along the etched star. The trickling of the stream was the only other sound as she and Hunt held their own silent conversation. A direct line had been in Midgard the entire time. Bryce wanted to kick herself for allowing so many years to pass before finally deciding to come to the island. Surely they could have defeated the Asteri by now had she not allowed those in the Fae’s home world to influence her so strongly. 

“Could someone fill us in, please?” Tharion requested, looking between the two. 

“Avallen is shrouded in mist, just like the Prison island of the Fae home world. A thin place as Silene called it. It’s perfect for communicating with other worlds. ” Bryce began. “This entire cave system, the tomb, is designed to preserve this very chamber. A chamber specifically designed to contact Hel.”  

“That is awfully risky,” Tharion murmured, running his fingers through his hair. “This entire place is just for her to contact Hel?” Bryce caught Sathia’s shoes out of the corner of her eyes. 

“That water runs right through the salt,” Sathia’s voice was soft as she examined the bowl and decanter. “Hey Hunt, what are the ways one can summon a demon? Can drinking salt laced water work?” 

“Not that I’ve seen,” Hunt clarified. “But there’s a first time for everything. I’m just not sure how…” He stood, stretching out his legs. 

“Maybe it’s not for summoning,” Bryce supplied. Her hand reached out toward the decanter, walking a short distance to the stream to fill it with the water. 

“You better not do what I think you’re going to do, Bryce.” Hunt’s words were calm yet stern. “At least not without me.” 

As soon as the cold water passed her lips, Bryce felt her body begin to free fall. Hunt’s hand was the only warmth she felt as they tumbled together. Down and down, around and around until her feet landed on what she could only describe as a sandy beach surrounded by impenetrable darkness. Neither she nor Hunt had expected to see Apollion or Thanatos when they entered the realm of Hel. Nor could either of them have ever anticipated learning that Hunt was a by-product of the Princes’ design. 

All that Bryce had wanted to know was if they knew how to defeat the Asteri and when that war could be fought. Instead, she found herself and Hunt sitting at a rounded table with three Princes of Hel, chit-chatting as if it were some study group for a boring history seminar at CCU. 

“What do you know of Midgard’s history?” Aidas asked, steepling his long, elegant fingers. The near platinum white-blonde hair gently rustling in the non-existent wind. Bryce merely crossed her arms, leaning back against her chair while her toes flexed inside her shoes. 

“There is a room that Rigelus dedicated to commemorating the conquests of the Asteri.” She let out a heavy breath. “The Asteri attempted to conquer your planet, Hel, but-” Apollion’s loud snort cut her off. 

“Planet? Did you really think that Hel was a singular planet?” Apollion, with his bright and disarmingly warm golden features tilted his head curiously. Bryce had to remember that the Prince of the Pit, the Star Eater, was the only one of them within the room that had actually defeated a member of the Asteri. Aidas chuckled at his side. 

“Yes…” Hunt’s brow bunched together as he eyed the three princes warily. The apprehension on his face must have been highly amusing as the three broke into what they must have considered fits of laughter. 

“What the fuck is so amusing?” Bryce’s voice was clipped. She didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary but also didn’t want to leave without the information she came for. 

“Hel, as you call it, is not a standalone world,” Thanatos began. One of the smokey shadow like hounds at his side rested their head upon his lap.  

“You said Hel was a planet,” She spat, her burning pointed gaze zeroed in on the Prince of the Chasm. Startling white teeth gleamed as he grinned, feigning a level of innocence at having only given Bryce a small piece of information.  

“It is. Though I do suppose the confusion could stem from the fact that you Midgardians believe Hel to be divided into levels. It’s more accurate to call them realms, and each realm happens to be its own individual planet.” Aidas explained, the amused grin plastered on his face infuriated Bryce to no end. Not once had any of them been fully honest, only revealing information as they saw fit. 

“Each planet is ruled by its own Prince,” Apollion explained. 

“I’m sure you can imagine the level of infighting that occurred,” Aidas added. “Each wanting to rule over the collective. 

Apollion continued. “This separation of our realms almost ended up being our downfall when the Asteri came. Luckily most of us were able to see their true nature and intentions, uniting our forces and working together towards a common goal. We recognized that we were much stronger when united, as seven together, and we began to refer to this collection of planets as Helheim.” 

“How nice for you,” Bryce drolled, tucking the name into the back recesses of her mind. 

“It conveniently explains why it's taken so many millennia for you all to regroup after your defeat in Midgard,” Hunt added. “Distance does make planning a fight difficult.” Bryce recognized the subtle hint of frustration in her mate’s voice. It was similar to the frustration that she held at having to wait so long for this very chance. But she also had to remember, she was working on not convincing the armies of Hel to join the fight, but the armies of Prythian and the other territories of that world. 

“Yes, well, if you’re going to add insult to injury,” Aidas took over. “It’s difficult to fight a war when you have no way of getting to the battlefield. Pelias had been instructed to use the Horn to close the Northern and Southern rifts. He was, for the most part, successful. The rifts are open to Hel, but only by a sliver. Less than that really, a fraction of a sliver allows myself or the creatures of Hel to slip through practically undetected.” 

“Boohoo for you,” Bryce glowered. “Had you returned earlier, maybe we wouldn’t be in the position of needing to fight the Asteri now.” 

“You can place the blame on whomever you wish, Bryce Quinlan,” Apollion leaned forward. “That doesn’t change what occurred, nor what needs to be done moving forward. Your ancestor knew all too well that any world between worlds would not be waged while she lived.”

“Both Helena and Theia took many steps to ensure that when the time was right, everything would align.” Aidas added, continuing his story of exactly how Theia divided her starlight. And the connection her power held over the Starsword and Truth-Teller. “Fate knew what it was doing when you ended up with the Horn inked into your skin and the Starsword in your hand.” 

“Like calling to like,” Bryce murmured, nodding along. “It’s how I was able to reunite the Starsword and Truth-Teller.”

“Exactly,” Aidas agreed. “The two blades yearned to be reunited but were kept separate when the gate to the Fae’s home world was closed by Pelias. Your use of the Horn reopened that gate, the pulling of the blades' desire to be together was simply stronger than your own.” 

“Come now, Aidas,” Apollion interjected. “Neither your lover nor her daughters were seers, oracles, whatever you Midgardians call them. Ms. Quinlan’s arrival in her ancestral home does not fully account for the…patterns we are starting to see.” 

“What patterns?” Hunt asked. 

“Nothing you need to worry about, son,” Apollion smiled upon using the word. Bryce could have sworn he enjoyed watching Hunt squirm with the news of his true parentage. 

“Seriously?” Bryce leaned forward. “We don’t have time for games of grab ass. What patterns have you seen? Is there another reason why I landed in the home world for the Fae?” Apollion simply held up his hand, his calm smirk causing Bryce to silently seethe in her seat. Her ire was only calmed by the gentle brush of Hunt’s wing along her side. 

“As part of our…protection efforts my brothers and I have set up various outposts throughout the cosmos,” Apollion explained. “In recent years we have received reports of unusual activity. I believe that something beyond all of our comprehension is preparing to make itself known.” 

“Quit being cryptic and just say what you mean,” Bryce was fuming as she stared down the Prince of the Pit. Their tendency for ambiguity was pissing her off. Especially since she knew that they likely didn’t have much longer before the dream water’s effects wore off. 

“To be completely honest, we are seeing things that we have never encountered before. Ever since you landed on Alfheim strange occurrences have been…popping up all over the known universe.” Apollion leaned forward, his golden hair bright amidst the pitch blackness of the Pit. “So, tell me Bryce Adelaid Quinlan, have you encountered any irregularities or the sudden appearance of creatures from other worlds?” Bryce relaxed her features into a cool mask of indifference. She may have gotten into a fight with (Y/N), but she was not about to rat out her existence to the Princes of Hel. If they could withhold information until it suited them, she could do the same. 

“I think you should check your informants,” She leaned back into her seat again. “We’ve traveled back and forth between Midgard and what did you call it, Alfheim, multiple times over the past five years. Perhaps that’s all they are picking up. Call it a cosmic ripple effect.” 

“Cosmic ripple effect? I quite like that,” Apollion grinned leaning back into his plush chair. “But that is not what I was referring to.”

“It would be wise to answer his question,” Thanatos warned, the hounds at his side let out low, deep growls.

“No,” Bryce met each of their stares. “We haven’t seen or heard of anything else ‘appearing’ in Prythian or the other lands on Alfheim.” 

“Nor have we gone to any other worlds,” Hunt added. The Prince of the Chasm clicked his tongue in admonishment. 

“Now, Bryce, we’ve gotten to know one another over the past several years. I can tell when you are holding back,” Aidas smiled as his ice blue orbs met her glare. “The dagger was not the only thing of note you found in Prythian was it?” Thanatos grinned alongside his brother. Bryce quickly recalled the Prince of the Ravine’s comment regarding her scent. 

“Fine,” Bryce huffed, making a show having to reveal information. “Silene left her piece of Theia’s magic in a secured place. I claimed it.” The star on her chest flared for the briefest of seconds before it was suffocated by the darkness. Aidas smiled even wider. Bryce looked at Hunt, who nodded in silent encouragement. Bryce recounted the message from Silene and her encounter with the slumbering Asteri that was trapped in the lowest bowels of the Prison. 

“It seems that you have a new task then,” Aidas advised. “Find the remaining third of Theia’s magic.”

“I’m shocked you don’t know where it is.” Bryce quipped, straining to keep the mockery at bay. 

“Theia imbued the Starsword with it prior to her death,” Aidas ignored the jab, “Seeing as Pelias didn’t take it for himself upon her death, I believe that Helena had it removed. The question is where was it stored for safekeeping.” As if they were a singular unit, the three Princes stood from their chairs. 

“We are nearly out of time,” Apollion stated. “Fighting against the Asteri will have to wait. Find that third piece, and please, keep the blades apart until we give you the say so.” 

“And what if I don’t? What kind of threat do the blades create?” Bryce demanded. 

“Catastrophic destruction,” Apollion’s words were simple, yet settled into her gut with a heavy weight. 

“That is why Theia ensured the blades were kept separate all these years,” Aidas explained. “While the blades cannot effectively be wielded by anyone not of Theia’s bloodline, the Asteri have always been a resilient and creative bunch. It is safe to assume that if the Asteri ever got hold of both blades they could easily destroy any world that did not bow down to them.” 

“Okay,” Bryce nodded, standing from her seat as well. Hunt’s wing hovering around her shoulders. The memory of the conversation with the Autumn King regarding the portal to nowhere rose to the forefront of her mind. “Find the magic and keep the blades apart. Anything else?” She didn’t bother to subdue her mocking tone, which did not cover her irritation in the slightest.  

“That is all you need worry about,” Apollion’s tone was dismissive as he and Thanatos began to walk away from the table. “We’ll continue our own searches and the rebuilding of our armies.”  

“Follow me, your time is just about up, and I must get you back to the meeting point,” Aidas guided Bryce and Hunt back towards the docked boat as the mist surrounding the colossal city of the dead rolled inland. Bryce stepped on the boat, her mind spinning the information she learned around and around. If Helena removed the shard of magic from the sword…

“Wait!” Bryce turned around only to find a wall of thick gray mist. Within an instant she felt her soul lurching back upwards to rejoin her body.

General tag list: @loving-and-dreaming

Series tag list: @jenniferpendragon @impossibelle @sweet-chai-amore @myheartfollower @iimichie

@fightmedraco @nikkitch0703 @eerievixen @ang-taylorsversion

@randomness-it-is @thehighlordishere @rachelnicolee @hardcoremarvelfan @awkardnerd @sundayysunshine

@jpgtae @cheneyq @morganwdarius @latinxbipride @catharticlovewriter

@mis-lil-red @rcarbo1 @celmentine111002 @abacteriamicroorganismsalmonella @julesvanslutta

[mirandasidefics]

you’ve got someone 👻 feeling hot 🥵❤️‍🔥 AND bothered 🫠🤤 send this to 5️⃣ other FOXY 🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊blogs➡️ 👩‍💻 before midnight 🕛 falls 🍂🍁🍂 or the vanserra brothers 🧑🧑🧑🧑🧑🧑🧑 won’t 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️ be visiting u 2 nite 🫦🤫😳😳😳😳😳😳

That all depends on which Vanserra brothers are supposed to visit...

[mirandasidefics]

I LOVE YOUR WRITI G SO MUCH SO MUCH I LOVE THE PLOT AND EVERYTHINF IS JUST SO CHEF KISS I LOVE THE DEPTH OF THE CHARACTERS HOLY. I LOVE THE MC!! SHES NOT A MARY SUE OR A PICK M3 GIRL SHES OS REALISTIC LIKE ME LIKE I LOVE THEM.

PLSSS S CONTINUE WRITING MORE THIS IS THE BEST FANFIC I EVER READ ESP THE PLOT TOO, I LOVE THE PLOT. I LOVE IMAGINING AND DAYDREAMING MYSELF HOW I GOT TELEPORTED TO ACOTAR AND MEET THEM AAAAAA

Hello! I'm so happy that you're enjoying this story. I have put so much effort into this and am so excited to share it with you all. I personally am very proud of the way I've tied certain things together regarding where Reader is from, how she got to Prythian, and what her role is going to be later down the road.

I'm happy to hear that so far at least she isn't much of a Mary Sue or Pick Me Girl. I hope that Reader continues to be relatable. There is a lot that I have planned for her. Hopefully her character and what I have planned develop naturally enough that it doesn't come across as either of those.

This is also shaping up to be MUCH longer fic than I originally anticipated. 😅 It's been a full year and I'm only barely halfway through (chapter wise, plot wise maybe a third of the way through). 🫣

[mirandasidefics]

But Home Is Nowhere- Chapter 14

Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader, and Ruhn Dannan x Plus Size Reader.

Summary: Reader finally learns what information the Prison holds. Instead of this trip helping to alleviate her fears, it confirmed the worst of them. There is no going home for her now.

Word Count: 6.1 K

Warnings: More spoilers for Cresent City 3. If you haven't read this series, or this book I highly recommend that you do. This entire fic is my version of CC3 and ACOTAR6.

Author's Note: Aine is pronounced "Aw-nya" and is from Irish/Celtic mythology. There is also heavy inspiration from Irish mythology throughout this fic, but more so in this chapter and future chapters when we learn more about the world Reader comes from. Thank you everyone for sticking with this story! I can't believe that it's been a YEAR since I started to share it with everyone. I feel like I've only now gotten to the real good parts of this story. I hope everyone is enjoying this, even though it is slow paced. There is still so much more to go!

As always, a HUGE thank you to my beta reader @hardcoremarvelfan for all her help!

Series Masterlist Divider by @/tsunami-of-tears

Previous: Chapter 13 Next: Bonus Chapter- Bryce POV

The frozen mountain side of the prison was the same as the last time you had been on the island nearly four years ago. Snow swirled around you, Bryce, and Ruhn as you all made your way to the front entrance of the Prison. The large carved doors loomed in front of your small group. You scanned over the intricate design, a seamless slab of…your breath caught in your throat. The doors were made of bone. You followed behind Bryce as you approached the entrance, Ruhn’s hand in yours. The warmth of his fingers interlaced with yours helping to calm your nerves. There was really no telling what you may find in the chamber where Bryce had claimed the piece of starlight power from Silene. While Bryce had not been a direct descendant, she already held the inherited power of Silene’s mother, Queen Theia.  

You had your suspicions of what this trip could reveal, of course, but you still needed to see the chamber where so much power had laid dormant for millennia. Bryce waved her hand, and the pale off-white hue gave way to a depthless darkness as the gates groaned. Your body was immediately hit with a wave of heavy despair. The unmarked entrance you had been pushed into all those years ago did not have this intense level of energy attached to it. The darkness beyond the bone doors seemed entirely lifeless. 

“Stay close,” Ruhn reminded you, his grip on your hand tightening. “Try not to touch the walls either. We don’t know if you getting past the barrier in that unmarked entrance was a fluke or not.” The male looked down at you, his half smile intended to help relax you, but you could see the worry in his eyes. 

“You tell me this now?” You looked up at him, eyes wide with your growing anxiety. “What if I can’t get back out? You really think that-”

“Relax,” Bryce commented as she began to walk forward. “You think I want to piss off some of the only people that are willing to help save my world? If there was any real reason to worry I wouldn’t have agreed to bring you here without anyone from that stupid ‘inner circle’.” You eyed both Starborn heirs wearily. Ruhn tightened his hold on your hand in reassurance. 

“You’ll be fine, baby.” Ruhn reassured, “Bryce and I have entered and exited easily over the past few years now.” With a deep steadying breath, you took the first step across the threshold. You weren’t sure what you had expected to happen once you entered, but you had expected something. Instead, you were greeted with silence and stale stagnant air. 

“I told you.” Bryce smiled, obviously pleased that she had been proven right yet again. 

The fact that the three of you were able to easily enter the massive former palace solidified that you had some degree of blood relation to Rhysand, or even worse Bryce and Ruhn. You blanched, holding back the slight bit of bile that burned the back of your throat. The mental reminder that you had kissed and wanted to have sex with a potential relative made your skin crawl. Even if you were literally from different worlds, and different species, and your ancestry lines diluted by thousands of years. What made it all worse was that a part of you still found yourself attracted to the male Starborn heir. You loathed dwelling on the idea any further, and instead hoped that you were more closely related to that stupid selfish prick calling himself a High Lord.  

The winding staircase that led down to the depths of the prison grew impossibly darker with each and every step. Even with Bryce using the starlight from her chest to light your path, the surrounding darkness felt oppressive. As you all came to what you assumed was the bottom landing of the massive staircase another set of towering double doors greeted you.  This time Bryce didn’t pause before waving her hand again, magically opening the barrier between you and whatever secrets lay beyond. Swallowing down the nervous lump in your throat, you entered the chamber. 

The chamber was a massive circular cavern. Darkness filled a majority of the space. The only light source was a distant hole in the ceiling. The trace amount of light formed a singular beam illuminating an empty pedestal in the center of the floor. After a few moments, your eyes adjusted to the change in the visibility and more of the chamber came into focus. However, the far end opposite of where you stood with Bryce and Ruhn remained shadowed in a pitch black shroud. Stone walls rose high above your head. Columns and intricately carved arches highlighting walkways going up at least 5 floors. Along the sides of the bottom floor were panels of carved images. You had remembered one discussion with Azriel about the images he, Nesta, and Bryce saw in the tunnels underneath the Hewn City and leading towards this very room. But no one had ever mentioned anything about the panels you currently found yourself inexplicably drawn towards. 

Your feet pulled you towards the closest of the panels of their own volition. Despite the rapid throbbing in your chest, your blood froze with primal fear. Tears began to brim your eyes as images of crying and pleading figures all reaching towards a single point rattled a deep seeded guilt within your bones. Despire, pain, and terror etched in perfect, precise detail in each face. Limbs protruded from bodies at odd angles. Flames and rocks and tree branches intermingled with the figures of the dying.  A tear slipped down your cheek as you tore away from the carvings , instead granting your vision a reprieve by focusing on the blank center of the panel.  After blinking back any additional tears, you could faintly make out a dark crack running through the center of the blank space. 

“Baby?” Ruhn gently tugged on your hand. “Everything alright?” Concern laced his warm tenor and tore your attention away from the cracked wall. 

“Huh? Oh, Yeah,” You lightly shook your head to clear it of the jumbled feelings that were settling in your stomach. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Your eyes started to scan the rest of the space as Bryce walked towards the center of the room. That was when you noticed the raised carvings on the ground and your heart stopped, freezing again as you took in the sight of constellations and a two dimensional rendering of a seven planet solar system. Your voice cracked as you whispered, calling out to Bryce. The air in the chamber felt suffocating, constricting your throat further. The air was so stagnant and oppressing, not even Bryce’s hair moved as she turned to face you. 

“What is it?” The same concerned tone laced Bryce’s voice as she took in your ashen face “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” The only movement you could force from your body was the extension of your index finger, pointing it at the designs on the floor surrounding the pedestal. 

“W-what are…” The half-fae female followed the line where you pointed. Her perfectly arched brows furrowed together as she continued to examine the pallor taking over your features.  

She didn’t move her attention from your face, her voice taking on the slightest edge of hesitation as she answered, “Why do you…You recognize them, don’t you?” You could barely register if you had acknowledged or answered her question. Your gaze was glued to the raised markings as you checked off the constellations that you instantly recognized. “These are the constellations of Midgard,” Bryce finally supplied before walking you through and naming each configuration of stars. 

“Scorpio and Sagittarius,” Your voice shook as you whispered the names of the constellations as you knew them. Eyes filling with tears as you walked across the map of the heavens. “The Big Dipper…Orion… Pisces.” Giving voice to each connected pattern of stars broke you down. Knees giving out you fell to the floor and the silent tears began their descent. The constellations you had grown up observing nearly every night with your father, were an exact match for the constellations that Bryce and Ruhn had grown up with as well. 

This couldn’t be possible. It wasn’t possible. Your eyes turned back to the panel and your feet moved again of their own accord. With a trembling hand you reached toward the stone, fingers tracing over the ears. Rounded ears. The scream lodged itself in our throat as you realized what the image truly depicted. You had been told of Silene’s message and of Nesta’s brief vision when she first touched the Harp. How Silene left dozens of Fae to their deaths at the hands of the Asteri and their army as she traveled through a portal back to her home world. Your eyes scanned the other panels in the chamber. Walking from one to the next you saw the story unfold as you moved from one panel to the next. A group of Fae with ears going from pointed to rounded arches. The opening of a portal where the land was lush, and the sky depicted the same constellations as the chamber floor. The altered Fae traveling through the portal, various items crossing the threshold to include a small cauldron, a sword, a spear, and some kind of stone. Again your heart raced, as your mind put together what the images really depicted. This was not a rendition of Queen Theia’s departure to Midgard. Nor were the violent images a depiction of Silene’s return and permanent closing of the rift to Midgard. Each and every one of the surrounding panels depicted a portal to your world. 

“Baby?” Ruhn was by your side instantly. “I’m serious, what’s wrong?” The cavern felt like it was closing in and sucking the life out of you. His hands, warm against your rapidly cooling skin, were the only things that reminded you of life. Blood pounded in your ears, drowning out all sound. Your vision began to tunnel, the edges growing darker than the blackness that surrounded you. Your throat dried out with each rapid inhalation. You couldn’t get a breath as your chest felt like it was going to collapse. 

You knew that if you didn’t get a hold of yourself you’d pass out. You forced your eyes to move away from the constellations, instantly being drawn to the depiction of the sun surrounded by various raised decals. The replica of Midgard’s solar system. A system of seven planets as opposed to the nine you had grown up knowing. The stark difference between the known number of planets pushed forward the reality of what you feared the most.  

“The names…”  You breathed, not daring to move your focus off them. “What are the names of the planets?” Your nails dug into the grit as you tried to ground yourself. Bryce named each one, pointing at the images representing the Gods they were named after. Names so similar and yet different to the Norse Gods of your world. The final nail in the proverbial coffin of what you had wondered for years now. It was no mere coincidence that Bryce and Ruhn were from a planet named Midgard, meaning it was no mere coincidence that your world had such large similarities. Bryce pointed to each of the markings, the first few were unfamiliar, but the remaining names dissolved all your remaining doubt. 

“Odin, Loki,” Your whisper echoed off the large cavernous stone walls, “Thor and Freya…” Your voice cracked as the name for the Goddess left your lips. “It can’t be…oh Gods.” Your stomach rolled. You mentally kicked yourself for not asking more about the pre-existing religion of Midgard prior to the Asteri and Vanir arrival. It suddenly made sense, though, why Bryce couldn’t use the Horn to open a portal to your world. The contents of your lunch made a second appearance. 

You could feel Bryce and Ruhn’s eyes as they stared at you. For a split second you wished you could hear the mind to mind conversation the two were sharing. Then again, you probably wouldn’t have been able to hear anything over the sound of the blood rushing through your ears. You knew Ruhn was doing whatever he could to soothe you through your existential crisis. The weight of his hand felt solid on your back, rubbing small circles. 

“This was a mistake,” You looked at the male crouched next to you. The knowledge this trip had already revealed was overwhelming. “Get me the fuck out of here. Please.” You rose to your feet, your body fighting between its desire to flee and the heavy leadened weight of the truth. Even if the truth should not have been realistically possible. 

“Bryce,” Ruhn glanced towards his sister. You followed his gaze when there was no response. Bryce’s amber eyes glared at you, the gears obviously spinning inside her head. Was she putting it together too? Was she on the verge of figuring out where you really came from? The only question you had was how did your Earth factor into all of this if it wasn’t even part of this universe?  

“No,” Bryce stated firmly as she stepped closer to study the panic in your eyes. “You need to see the rest.” Bryce moved to the center of the chamber and stood on an eight pointed star. A small flash of light revealed an image of a young Fae female. The image reminded you of holograms from sci-fi movies. 

The female identified herself as Silene, daughter of High Queen Theia. The hologram recounted the details of the Asteri’s- the Daglan’s-rule in Prythian, the corruption of the Cauldron through the making of the Dread Trove, how the Daglan were then driven out of this world, and the rise of the first and only High Queen and King of Prythian. Silene talked of how the Fae followed the High Queen and her two daughters into Midgard. The war with the Asteri, which resulted in Silene’s ultimate return to Prythian. The cries of the Fae left behind had long gone silent within the recording. You looked over to Bryce, her expression dark with the resurgence of her loathing for what Silene had done. Ruhn’s expression held a similar level of contempt. You could only guess that the memory was supposed to make Silene’s actions justified. A female in mourning with decisions meant to benefit the greater good. Something deep in your bones empathized with her. A sense of knowing that had you been in her position, you would have made the exact same ones. Your eyes traveled to the blank stone, the spot where the portal of Silene’s escape had once been. Swallowing, you resisted the instinctual urge to approach that empty wall. The image of Silene, as she was curled upon the ground crying over the loss of her sister Helena and mother, shimmered, drawing your attention back to the moment. The once cold and silvered hue specter gave way to a warm and golden glow. 

“What the fuck…”Bryce’s voice trailed off. The image of Silene shimmered again as a loud groaning could be heard. Ruhn immediately pushed you behind him as he scanned the room. The sound bounced around the chamber making it nearly impossible to pinpoint where it originated. It took you all a few moments to realize that the sound came from the magical recording, where a new voice was heard calling softly. 

“Who’s there?” The muffled feminine voice cut through Silene's mournful wailing. The darked haired female’s head swiveled up to look towards the opposite end of the room, presumably the direction of where the voice and groaning originated.  

 “S-Sil?” The warmth the voice exuded mirrored the coloring of the image. “Mother above, Silene!” The owner of the voice rushed into view and sank down to her knees. Your own knees suddenly wanting to do the same. Something about the female’s timber sparked a deep seated memory. One that was familiar and elusive simultaneously. Ripples of silvery-white fabric billowed as the new female’s arms hovered near Silene. Long, thick golden blonde hair obscured most of the unknown female’s upper body. The few instances where her face should have been visible, was instead blurred. 

“Aine?” Silene lifted her head, taking in the second female’s appearance before allowing herself to be wrapped in her arms. Silene continued to sob as Aine continued to sooth her. Minutes went by, the image flickering until Silene’s soft voice broke the silence. “Aine, I failed…I-I lost them.” You weren’t certain if Aine responded as the image faded. Your body trembled, an overwhelming sense of familiarity at the exchange. The air felt like it was ripped from your lungs as sudden realization hit you. You had witnessed this interaction before, in the form of a dream when you were a teenager. 

Your hands began to shake as you tried to remember the rest of that dream from so long ago, but the details remained cast in shadow. The scene of the two females was quickly replaced, the blueish-gray toned image of Silene reappearing. The older image of Silene explained how the prison came to be, which then resulted in the death of the land her mother and sister once called home.  

“That…” Bryce swallowed nervously. “What the fuck was that? She-Aine, was not in the original message.” The back of your throat burned as stomach acid rose up. You prayed to whatever Gods would listen that your face remained neutral as Bryce’s attention rounded on you. You were well aware that Bryce, Ruhn, and Rhysand had reviewed that message dozens of times. There had never been any mention of Aine. Just as there had been no record of her in the Night Court’s documents pertaining to lineage. It was possible that Aine wasn’t ever a member of the Night Court. All you did know at this moment was she was close with Silene. 

“How’s that possible?” Ruhn’s question was directed towards his sister, but his eyes were on you. Almost as if he too had rationalized that the only differing factor on this trip was your presence in the chamber. Everything about that scene between the two females made it clear that the memory was not Silene’s, but Aine’s memory. Every part of you knew you were meant to see that memory play out, but you had no idea why it would be relevant. Unless it had something to do with your dreams…

“Bryce? ” Ruhn called out again, his attention now on his sister.

“How the Hel should I know? It’s magic.” Irritation saturated Bryce’s tone. “And unless it’s some weird ass tech from another world, some kind of spell protected this part of the message. It clearly was not intended for just anyone to view.” Bryce looked toward you then. Her amber gaze almost seemed to burn despite the fact that she didn’t inherit an ounce of her father’s fire magic. 

“What?” Your defences rose, fighting against your instinct to flee as she glared at you. 

“What about your world?” Bryce asked, a hint of accusation coated her voice. “You claim there is no magic there, but are you being honest about that?” Her eyes continued to stare you down but you remained silent. You couldn’t definitively say that your world didn’t have magic, but if magic existed it wasn’t the same as the magic they had grown accustomed to on Midgard or in Prythian. “Because it’s not like your world has tech capable of creating a projected image like that. Especially if it is as similar as you claim it is to what we’ve got in Midgard.” Bryce continued, slowly making her way to where you stood next to Ruhn. 

“No.” Your statement was simple. “My world doesn’t have that technology.”  Bryce narrowed her eyes. You steeled your nerves and met her stare, back and shoulders straightening. “But it doesn't have magic either, as I’ve said many times before. If my world had any capability of creating something like that I’d be ecstatic at seeing the same thing here.”

“Just like you were ecstatic at seeing the constellations from your world on the floor?” The half-fae’s tone was unrelenting as she continued to stare you down. It was as clear as the Night Court’s skies that she knew you were holding back information. You couldn’t blame her for getting pissed at you. You weren’t exactly lying, but you also weren’t forthcoming with any theories you had on why or how you stepped through that portal. Your arrival was still the biggest mystery that honestly prevented anyone from making moves against the Asteri or investigating Koschie.  

“Bryce, that’s enough,” Ruhn’s warning tone was entirely ineffective given by the rolling of her eyes towards him. 

“You don’t have to believe me,” Your own irritation grew, matching Bryce’s energy, “but I have no reason to lie about it. The differences my world has to yours does not mean th-”

“What?” Bryce tilted her head in mocking innocence. “That your world has no connection to this one or Midgard? That’s what you want everyone to believe, isn’t it? You're just this poor victim of some higher power. Who are you to go against fate?” You bit the inside of your cheek as you stared the female down. You had to give her credit, she knew exactly which buttons to poke and prod; attempting to trick you into revealing the information you had kept locked away for years. 

“Careful Bryce,” You hoped you sounded stronger than you felt. Bryce’s penetrating glare made you feel exposed. As if she could see the truth of where you came from written all over your face. 

“Or what exactly?” Her bemused smile only showed that she was enjoying this little spat. “It’s not like you’re at all special right? You’re constantly insisting that you aren’t. So what is a weak, helpless, and hopeless human going to do to me?”

“Shut up,” You demanded, gritting your teeth. Her words found their marks as she cut into your insecurities. You weren’t special. You were reminded of that fact every day. The only human living in a land of mythical beings that were significantly stronger, prettier, and more important in the lives of those around them. You were none of those things, and it was slowly eating away at you. 

“Then be honest with me (Y/N). You recognized those constellations, you recognized names of the planets,” Taking a few steps closer to you, Bryce’s smile grew wider. “Yet the Horn couldn’t open a portal to your world. How am I supposed to interpret that information, hmm? Lying isn’t a good look for you. Especially when you want our help.” 

“Damn it Bryce just-” Ruhn moved to stand between the two of you, but you were faster. Your scream and Bryce’s near manic laugh drowned out his words. Tackling the half-fae, you both fell to the ground. 

“Fuck you!” The breath in your lungs burned from the sudden exertion. “Fuck you Bryce!” Said female was pinned to the cold stone floor by your knees on her stomach and her forearm. Your own forearm pressing against her windpipe, tears of hurt and anger in your eyes. “You fucking bitch. I told you how I felt in confidence, and you fucking use it against me!” The grin on Bryce’s face remained plastered to her features as she looked up at you. 

“I knew there was more to you than meets the eye,” Her voice rasped through her slightly constricted airway. “Tell me, just between us girls, you’re a human from Midgard. Only you’re from a different time. Before the Asteri arrived aren’t you?” Her words shocked you, causing you to loosen your grip and sit up. That’s when you felt Ruhn’s hands wrap around your waist and lift you up and over his shoulder. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?!” You couldn’t see his face as he screamed, but you could hear just how pissed he was. You and Bryce began to protest at the same time, drowning out each other’s excuses. “Both of you fucking shut up. We’re going back to Velaris.” Ruhn kept you slung over his shoulder as he turned and began to leave the large chamber. Bryce stood back up and followed as she brushed the dirt off her clothing. 

“Put me down Ruhn,” You protested, wiggling around in an attempt to get him to loosen his grip around you. However, your movements only had the opposite effect as he tightened his hold of your waist and one of your thighs. You held still as the hand on your thigh became dangerously close to your center. 

“Hold still and be quiet,” He ordered. “We don’t need to attract unnecessary attention.” He continued to carry you all throughout the ascent back up through the Prison. The second you all walked out of the enormous bone doors you resumed your demands to be put down. With the blink of an eye, you found yourself surrounded in the warmth of the town house. Ruhn continued to ignore you and merely carried you upstairs to the bedroom. 

“I’ve calmed down,” You tried to placate, but you knew that your tone wasn’t as convincing as it should be. 

“Yeah, sure, but I’m keeping you two separated until you tell me what the fuck that was all about,” Ruhn kicked the door closed behind him, one of his shadows flicking the lock as he practically flung you onto the bed. You internally cursed yourself as your body hummed with excitement. A split second later you bit the inside of your cheek as a reminder to keep your hormones in check. The last thing you needed was for him to smell any tinge of arousal from you. Pushing away the impure images that sprung into your mind, you looked up at the male as he towered over you. 

“What the hell is your problem?” You demanded, calling your irritation back to the surface. You hoped that you sounded more pissed off about his behavior rather than your own. His glare sent a shiver down your spine, one that had you biting the inside of your cheek a second time. Your back hit against the wall, however, the solid mass felt like ice. The last time you felt anything like that was from Azriel’s shadows during the week he tortured you. Your pulse quickened as you quickly glanced around, horrified that it was Ruhn’s own shadows blocking your path from retreating backwards. Terror slowly gripped at your chest. Ruhn’s shadows had never once made you feel afraid. Their typical soothing warmth shifted to ice as he continued to box you in. 

“You attacked my sister,” His usual warm tenor was now stony and calm. “I don’t care that she said some shit to antagonize you. You had no right to pin her to the ground.” His piercing blue eyes rooted you to the spot. The glacial brush of a shadow across your skin adding to your growing distress. You tried to suppress the tremors in your hands as your own eyes surveyed his face. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even think as his intense stare bore into you. If he was capable of becoming this cold towards you, there was no way you could trust him with the truth. Your instincts told you it would be safer to try and diffuse his anger towards you. 

“I know,” Your admission was soft. Intrinsically you recognized that regardless of what fueled your actions you had behaved childishly. Responding irrationally to the panic being in the Prison chamber brought. Bryce was smart and merely put together the pieces of a puzzle. Only she didn’t have all the pieces. Honestly, you didn’t either. Yes, you now had the answer as to why you couldn’t find any information about your world, but it left you with so many more questions. Having more questions than answers made you feel stressed, and it wasn’t fair to take your stress out on someone that was only trying to help. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and sighed. “Seeing the familiar constellations and the carvings scared me. I lost my composure and that wasn’t right. She could have been trying to calm me down and I would have lashed out.” Ruhn remained silent for a few moments before calling back his shadows. Reaching his hand forward, he gently hooked his fingers with yours. Flinching at his touch, you pulled your hand away and took several steps back. 

“(Y/N)?” Ruhn felt his brows scrunch in confusion. He watched as she backed away, her hands clasped together tightly. To stop them from trembling. He felt his expression shift to horror with the realization of what his actions caused. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Ruhn reached back out to her, and while he saw her muscles tensed, she did allow him to touch her this time. He gently took hold of her hands, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the backs of her hands. The last thing he ever wanted was for her to not feel safe in his presence, yet the anger he felt at the fight she had with his sister overrode all sense. Much like how her fear had overridden her own when Bryce started talking shit. He knew Bryce wasn’t in the right to have antagonized her the way she did, but he had been curious about (Y/N)’s reactions as well. 

“Just…” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “I understand the instinct to protect your sister. I’d have the same reaction if someone launched themselves at one of my siblings. But…keep your shadows away from me when you’re mad. They get cold…and the cold reminds me of Azriel’s…” Ruhn looked at her apologetically.

“I’m so sorry. Really I am.” His apology was sheepish, even to his ears. His gaze looked over her form, noting the slight trembling in her hands. As he continued to look her over, he noted that her entire body was as tense as any of the moments after her nightmares. A part of him knew that even with him present in the room tonight she would be reliving her time in that cell in her dreams. 

She moved to sit back down on the mattress, her arms folded cold to her stomach.His heart lurched as he realized she was instinctively guarding the most physically vulnerable part of her body as her mind began to tunnel down into itself. He knew that if he didn’t get her out of her mental spiral he’d have two very angry males threatening to remove his favorite appendage. 

“You need to get warm, baby,” Ruhn kneeled in front of her, his hands on the outer parts of her thighs, gently rubbing circles to warm her up. “How does a hot bath sound?” The woman looked up at him, nodding her agreement as she allowed him to help her stand up from their shared bed.

“Is there any more of that bath oil you bought?” Her voice was tentative as they walked to the ensuite bathroom together. Ruhn nodded and made his way to the wicker basket that was lined with various bath oils and salts he had gotten her for Winter Solstice. 

After collecting her favorite scents from the basket, Ruhn walked over to the large tub and turned on the tap. The sound of rushing water drowned out the silence between them. It was only then that Ruhn was able to think back on the day’s events and the way she had behaved in the large Prison’s chamber. 

“You really did recognize the constellations, didn’t you?” He mused, the tension beginning to slowly diffuse. She nodded tentatively, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as she met his gaze. Steam filled the air, but he had yet to see her shoulders relax. 

“We have different names for them,” Her voice sounded automatic, lacking any natural inflection. “Some names are similar, but not identical. Fifteen thousand years is long enough to account for that. The positioning of stars takes millions if not billions of years to change from the perspective of the Earth’s surface, but the linguistics behind the names-” 

“You’re not from a different time,” Ruhn matched her matter of fact intonation, effectively cutting off her rambling. “It doesn’t fit. Midgard’s technology-the style that you are also familiar with-was only developed within the past 20 years. Even with the Asteri’s bullshit narrative about Midgard, there was absolutely no record of any of the human settlements having that type of tech. The humans that were there, well they were much more…primitive.” She turned her head, giving him an incredulous look. 

“Primitive?” The rest of her body towards him, “Even if that-” Ruhn held up his hands in surrender. 

“Bad choice of words. I’m sorry,” His smile was soft, barely tugging at the corner of his lips. He watched her eyes immediately fall on the faded scar on his lower lip. The spot where his lip ring used to reside before it had been ripped out in the Asteri dungeons. “I simply mean the humans didn’t have the skills for that kind of tech just yet.” This seemed to placate her ire from resurfacing. Though, if he was honest, any anger he incited was allowing her to slowly come back. 

“You are on such thin ice, Ruhn.” Her lips pursed trying to suppress the slight smile. With a slight shake of her head she turned her attention to the running water. “What makes you so sure that I’m not from a different time? You have to admit that the similarities are…” He watched her eyes flash with some type of realization.  “There are similarities, but there are differences too.” 

“Exactly,” Ruhn smiled, he loved watching her expressions as she put pieces of information together. “The Asteri would have just improved upon the tech had it existed when they arrived. So it doesn’t make sense for you to be a pre-Asteri Midgard human.”

“No, no that’s not, well yes that makes sense, but that’s not what I meant,” She quickly stood up from the edge of the tub, bath entirely forgotten as she rushed out into the adjoining bedroom. “The difference is in some of the gods and goddesses of your world. The planets in your solar system have names similar to Gods and Goddess of just ONE pantheon in my world. There are hundreds of different belief systems that have spanned across the past 15,000 years in my world.” Ruhn watched as she paced back and forth, the movement seemingly helping her collect her thoughts. 

“Okay…” He waited patiently for her to continue. 

“Your surname is Danaan correct? Is that a name from the homeworld of the Fae, this world?” She halted mid stride just to race over to the small writing desk in the far corner of the room. 

“I..um…I think so, I’m not sure.” His brows furrowed as she hastily took about a scrap of paper and began to scribble down something that appeared like a list.

“When do you go back to Midgard?” She didn’t bother to look up at him as she continued to write. 

“Next month,” He answered, a slight pang in his chest at having to leave her again so soon. 

“I need you to find out whatever you can about the origins of your surname,” She turned back towards him, folding up the paper as she took a few steps back towards him. “See if any relatives have these first names. Also, see if any of them had the items on the list with them.” He unfolded the torn scrap of paper, looking over the names, none of which he immediately recognized.

“Who are these people?” His blue irises scanned along the list. “I don’t think I could even pronounce half of these.” Placing the folded paper into the pocket of his jeans he began to search her face. Her gaze remained distant, a clear indication that her thoughts were racing. 

“I have a theory,” She admitted, “But since Rhysand won’t let me go to Midgard myself, I need your help. Please Ruhn? You’re…you’re the only one I can trust with this.” He stood there, gazing into her pleading expression. 

“Of course, baby.” He smiled softly, pulling her into a hug. “Of course I’ll help you. You can trust me.” 

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