#Eris Vanserra oneshot

[milswrites]

Unspoken Love

~ Eris Vanserra X Fem!Reader

Summary: All the ways in which Eris shows you he loves you.

Warnings: Fluffy goodness. Nudity (non-sexual). Period cramps.

Notes: This is for everyone who just longs to see Eris happy and in love (and more specifically for @searchingforbucky because I never would have written this if it wasn’t for you)

A Hopeless Prince

Eris had a silver tongue.

Centuries of speaking in court allowing him to become a master at crafting words. The Autumn Prince blessed with the gift of bending truths and delivering commands as though they were the sweetest poetry.

And yet, despite his eloquence in speech, Eris had one problem.

A cursed inability to voice his feelings.

It was a skill the red-haired prince had never required, a mask of cool indifference being the best item a male could wear in court. Emotions were a weakness that Eris couldn't allow himself to have on display, not in Autumn.

Until he met you. Then suddenly and all at once Eris found himself a victim to his own heart's desire.

A single look, that was all that was needed for Eris Vanserra to fall in love. One look and the male was certain he had found his equal.

Yet despite the instantaneous nature of his feelings for you, Eris found his tongue locked in your presence. The three words which he so longed to tell you caged within the confines of his mouth.

Eris loved you.

An all consuming love in which the heat of his desire burned brighter than any inferno he could muster with his own palms. And yet he still couldn't find the words to tell you this. But despite his inability to voice his emotions, Eris fought against his insecurities to make sure he let you know the depths of his feelings in other ways.

He made sure to tell you with the soothing tea he made for you each morning. With the gentle kiss he always laid upon your cheek as you stirred from your slumber. He made sure you knew with his sweet compliments and admiring eyes as he soaked in your radiant beauty for as long as you would allow.

Eris loved you.

He only hoped that one day he would be able to tell you this himself.

A Comforting Presence

Time was a scarce luxury for you and Eris.

Between his courtly duties and your equally busy schedule, quality time together was a rare sight.

Whenever you managed to find a moment of peace, free from your responsibilities and ready to devote all of your attention to the Autumn Prince, Eris always had the rotten luck of being called away to another task.

Which is why you often found yourself in this position; tucked away in a hidden area of the library, curled up with a good book whilst you waited for Eris to finish his daily obligations. The books you read acting as a blissful escape from the usually restless bustle of the Autumn Court.

It was all to easy for you to hide from reality between the inked pages. To allow your mind to freely wander amongst the stories while the time slowly passed until you could see Eris again. Working your way through Autumn's large expanse of literature as each day came and went.

So it was no wonder how in your dream-like trance you didn't notice the watchful figure admiring you from afar. It took three attempts of Eris softly clearing his throat before he was able to capture your attention and draw your gaze from the book in your hands. Tensing, your alarmed eyes swiftly flew towards the source of the sound, your muscles relaxing upon seeing the familiar face of your lover.

You took the time to admire Eris where he stood, shameless eyes raking over his well-defined figure before coming to a stop at the stack of documents which were clutched tightly in his hands.

"Another meeting?" you quietly ask with a sad smile, assuming that Eris had only dropped by for a short respite and a quick hello before he needed to return to his obligations.

Eris approached you, placing a delicate kiss onto your temple before moving to sit down in the armchair beside you. "Actually," he started, the low rumble of his voice cutting through the silence of the library, "I thought I might finish off my work here, if that is alright with you of course?"

You didn't fail to miss the light dusting of redness which blossomed on Eris's cheeks, nor the embarrassed edge to his tone as he spoke. Worried that the male would allow his insecurities to take control, you stretched out your hand to entwine it with his own, locking together your fingers as your thumb moved to rub soothing circles into his skin.

"I'd love nothing more" you answered honestly, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

The two of you sat in a peaceful silence, Eris beginning to work through his papers and you picking up your story from where you left off. Yet despite your different activities your hands remained placed in each other's, Eris placing the occasional kiss onto the back of your own whenever he sat back to ponder over what he was writing.

The two of you didn't speak; you didn't need to. Not when the comfort of each other's company was enough. It could have been hours until words were exchanged between you once more, the silence broken by a gasp escaping from your lips as you reached an exciting part of your story. Intrigued, Eris looked over to where you were sat.

"What is it?" he asked, straining his neck to peer over and try and catch a glimpse of your book. Interested eyes flashing over to your own wide ones.

"Nothing, sorry! Something big just happened, I'll try to stay quiet" you promised, afraid that if you were to disturb Eris from his work he would leave to finish it elsewhere.

Eris slowly nodded in acknowledgement, turning back to his papers to continue his writings, and yet it was impossible to stop his amber eyes from travelling back to your face. Brows knitting together as he took in the bright glint in your eye and the curling of your lips as you read.

Needing to satisfy his curiosity, Eris asked you once more, "What is it? What are you smiling at?"

"Shouldn't you be working?" you teased, noting the nosy way in which the Autumn Prince was trying to snoop at the page you were reading.

"Work can wait" he huffed, snatching the book from your hands, "I'm more interested in what's going on in that pretty little mind of yours."

And as you sat in Eris's lap, happily chatting away as his work laid unfinished and forgotten, the male promised himself he would always make time for you. Because no job, nor meeting, would ever be more important than getting to see you smile.

A Helping Hand

A groan of frustration tore from your lips as you entered your shared chambers. Distressed eyes meeting the teasing stare of your amused lover who was sprawled across the bed, no doubt having been waiting for your arrival.

A soft chuckle leaving Eris's lips at the sight of your disheveled form, "Difficult day, Little Fox?"

Having finally reached the sanctuary of your room, the weight of the days trials finally settled as your eyes began to uncomfortably sting with tears. Noticing your crumbling composure, Eris swiftly made his way over from the bed to where you were stood, gentle hands coming to rest against your cheeks as his searching eyes scanned over your frame.

Your appearance clearly worrying him as the male immediately pulled you into a crushing embrace.

Face now pressed into the exposed skin of Eris's chest where the top of his shirt was splayed open, you allowed yourself to deeply inhale the familiar scent of your partner. The smell of him alone enough to bring you the comfort you needed. The Autumn Prince held your tears at bay, both by the gentle caress of his hands against your body and the soothing murmurings of solace he offered you.

It was only when your breathing steadied, and the irregular pounding of your heart had subsided, did Eris then allow himself to pull away. "Do you want to talk about it?" Eris asked tentatively, lifting a tender hand to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear, "Or would you just like me to take care of you?"

Your heart lovingly ached at the male's compassion, his words the same ones you recite to him each time he comes back to your chambers forlorn and dejected after a difficult day.

"Will you take care of me?" you asked your prince, a single tear falling down your cheek. Not at the expense of your terrible day, but at the overwhelming surge of empathy swimming in your lover's eyes.

"Always" Eris replied, kissing away your lonely tear.

The Autumn Prince needn't be told what to do; silently leading you to the bed with a promise of returning.

You waited patiently for the male as he prepared your bath, the male filling the tub with an assortment of luxurious oils and healing salts. It was only when Eris was satisfied with the temperature of the steaming water, did he then return to carry you into the bathroom.

Eris's hands worked to aid you in unlacing the corset of your dress before he gathered the silk of the slip underneath to help remove it from your exhausted frame. Once free from the confines of your clothing, Eris supportively held your hand as he carefully assisted you in getting into the bath. Allowing you to adjust to the temperate waters before moving behind you to wash your hair.

Eris had the hands of a prince, smooth and unscarred, free from the marks of labor. Yet despite the polished nature of his nimble fingers, they worked wonders whilst running through your dampened hair and massaging your aching scalp. Each gentle rub as he worked the pine scented soap into your hair being enough to draw sounds of contented pleasure from your lips.

Your love was an expert at knowing what you needed, and as he worked to was the pollutant worried of the day gone by from your skin, Eris filled your ears with light-hearted stories of his own day.

It wasn't long before the sweet sound of laughter filled the room, memories of your sour day long forgotten as you merrily conversed with your partner.

The only thing that mattered in this moment of time was him.

And as your eyes caught Eris periodically sinking his hands into the lukewarm water to rise its temperature to an adequate level, you knew there was no one else in the world you would rather have take care of you. No man that you would rather love.

A Treasured Gift

Life with Eris meant you needn't want for anything.

He made sure to spoil you with more dresses than you would ever need and your collection of jewels had grown so large they now spilled from the box you kept them in.

But your favourite gift you had received from Eris wasn't the diamond encrusted tiara he had given you for your birthday, nor the prize mare he had surprised you with on the anniversary of your relationship.

No, the best gift Eris had ever given you was his mind, scrawled between the pages of a book. . .

Your lover's nerves were almost tangible as he approached, hands hidden behind his back as he slowly stalked in your direction. Low whispers of self-encouragement upon his lips as he set his determined eyes on you.

It was unusual, to see the usually confident male blanching in your presence, all colour drawn from his usually lifeful cheeks. Eris’s foot tapping restlessly against the floor when he finally came to a stop before you.

You made to greet your prince with a kiss, but Eris's shaky words interrupted your action. "I have something for you" he said, offering you an anxious smile as your brows raised in surprise, thoughts racing as you desperately tried to remember whether this day held any important significance that you had forgotten.

Noting your panicked expression Eris immediately blurted, "It's nothing big! Just something small I've been working on for you."

Eris was slow to draw his hands from behind his back, nervous eyes meeting your curious ones as you took in what he was holding.

"A book?" you asked, taking it from his slightly trembling hand in order to cast your inspecting gaze of the cover. Tales of the heart. Your favourite story.

A book you have read over a dozen times before. So why would Eris gift you a copy of a book you already owned? Sure your copy was tattered and well loved, but did it really require a replacement?

Ever the perceptive male, Eris inhaled deeply before explaining the reasoning of his gift, "I know I'm not the best at voicing how I feel. . . So I thought you could read it instead."

His expectant eyes urged you to open the book, so you did just that.

Peeling back the cover, you were greeted with Eris's familiar penmanship, the black ink which marked the page curling into words which made your heart swell:

You are my everything, nothing more and nothing less.

With watery eyes you eagerly flicked through the book, breath catching in your throat as you observed the ink covered pages. Eris had underlined all his favourite passages, each one accompanied by scribbles of his comments and opinions, the margins overflowing with carefully worded text.

Here in your hands you held a window into Eris's soul. His emotions laid bare across each page, exposing his mind and sharing his thoughts.

This little book, which fit snugly into the palm of your hand, was an offering. An invitation to get to know the male better, to understand Eris in his entirety.

Finding yourself lost for words you did the only thing you could do, pulling the Autumn Prince into a heated kiss of appreciation. Arms flying around his neck in an attempt to draw him in closer, doing your best to pour every ounce of love and praise into each gentle caress of your lips against his.

Anticipation growing in your chest at the prospect of delving into the book later on in the day, eagerly awaiting your exploration of Eris Vanserra’s mind.

A Heated Touch

You were in agony.

Bound to your bed, wallowing in your own misery as you clutched onto your abdomen with the hope of quelling the rising tide of pain.

It was that time of the year, your aching body signaling the unwelcome arrival of your cycle.

Eris had been reluctant to leave you this morning, worried about your ability to take care of yourself. Despite wanting nothing more than to spend the day wrapped in the loving arms of your partner, you half-heartedly pushed him from your bed, knowing the male had an abundance of dull meetings to attend today.

Yet now as you laid under your covers, curled into a ball as you miserably absorbed each aching stab of pain, you wished that you had never sent Eris away. Your suffering only increasing as the hours passed by.

You would search for your lover if you could, call him from his meetings and draw him back to your bed, but with a head like cotton and a body like lead you had no choice but to lay with your torturous discomfort in solitude.

Though thankfully, Eris had other plans. Unsatisfied with leaving his partner to suffer alone during her cycle, he had spent the morning postponing his meetings and delegating his work elsewhere. Anxiously wishing away the time until he was able to return to his chambers and take care of you.

Wasting no time once the rearrangement of his tasks had been completed, hurrying to the kitchen to make you a healing cup of medicinal tea before making his way to your shared room.

Opening the door to find you exactly where he had left you, huddled under the covers and eyes tightly closed as you tried to wait out wave after wave of pulsating pain.

Heart clenching at the sight of you in agony, Eris uttered curses to the gods for bestowing you with a pain that he could not fix. Sympathy flooding into his eyes as he came to sit by your side, raising a comforting hand to brush against your cheek and pull you from your fitful slumber.

"My poor Little Fox" he empathetically cooed, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose as you stirred from your sleep. Eyes blinking open, a weak smile graced your lips as the welcoming sight of your lover greeted you.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked, brows furrowing at the wince which crossed your face as you turned your body to face him better.

"Will you hold me?" you pouted lamely, tears threatening to fall now your partner was here to comfort you.

"Of course" Eris answered, needing no further instruction as he moved to climb into the bed behind you, arms reaching out across the sheets to pull you towards him until your back pressed against his chest. A pained whimper drawing from your lips as he did so, Eris cursing himself for bringing you more anguish.

"May I try something?" Eris asked, seeking your permission for what he was about to do. Nausea building in your throat, you feebly nodded. What was the worse that could happen when you already felt like death itself?

Careful not to disturb you too much, Eris snaked his hands around your middle, moving them down towards your aching abdomen before allowing his hands to gradually heat to a bearable temperature.

A deep breath of satisfaction escaped from your lips at his heated touch. The ghost of Eris's flames working to quell your pain and soothe your aching.

"You are never leaving my side again" you giggled in relief, bringing your hands to rest against his own in the hope of absorbing each remnant of heat which Eris provided you with.

"That is something we can agree on" Eris purred, drawing you into his embrace further still, warm lips brushing against your neck as he continued, "There is nowhere else I would rather be."

And as Eris watched you fall into a blissful slumber, contented smiles resting upon each of your faces, the Autumn Prince could have sworn that the three words he so longed to tell you were patiently waiting on the tip of his tongue.

A Lover's Vow

It had taken you weeks to read through Eris's gift. Having opted to take the time to appreciate each little comment your partner had scribbled onto the pages.

Each word you read opening your eyes to a new side of the Autumn Prince, showing you glimmers of a male that felt and felt deeply. Every new thing you learnt about your lover working to crack the mask which he so often wore.

Now reaching the end of your story you didn't want it to end. You wanted - no needed- to learn everything you could about the male, feeling as though this gift had only scratched the surface when it came to introducing you to the mystery that was Eris Vanserra.

You had laughed, you had cried, and now turning to finish the final page you only longed to experience it all again.

Your curiosity would never be satisfied, not when it came to Eris.

Why is why you were pleasantly surprised, that when the final words had been read, a sealed letter which had been hidden between the pages dropped into your lap. The crimson ink which adorned the envelope staring right back at you as your wide eyes took in the message that was addressed to you.

Your happy ending, Little Fox.

You weren't sure why your heart had stopped at the sight of the letter, nor were you able to explain why your hands trembled nervously as you tore open the paper. Shaking as you removed the note which had been neatly tucked inside.

Pearlescent tears began to fall down your blushing cheeks as you read Eris's words, failing to even finish the letter before you had jumped on your feet and began to run.

You were unsure of where you were heading, but the one thing you were certain of was that Eris would be at the end of it. The letter now crumpled within your tight grip as you ran, afraid to let it go and lose the words which you had been so desperate to hear.

So you didn't stop, allowing your feet to carry you towards Eris, towards your answers. Only slowing down to catch your breath when you saw your partner outside, leading his horse back to the stables through the torrential rain.

Uncaring of the fact your clothes were not appropriate for the miserable weather, you closed the distance between you and the male. Mud splashing at your calves as you rushed towards him.

Eris didn't fail to miss your sodden figure running towards him, eyes blowing wide in alarm at your sudden appearance. Worried for your sanity, he immediately dropped the reins from his hands as he ran to meet you halfway.

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed, concerned eyes taking in the sorry state of your wild appearance, the male moving to grip your arm and move you towards shelter but not before you had forcefully ripped your arm from his hold.

"Is it true?" you asked, your silver tears mixing with the cooling rain which was beating against your flushed face.

"Is what true?" Eris cried, brows knitted together in confusion until his gaze dropped to the letter clutched tightly in your hand and then suddenly it all made sense.

"Yes. . ." he weakly replied after a moment, his surprise at your unexpected appearance having stolen his words.

"You love me?" you pressed further, taking a step closer to your anxious partner, lifting your fist which held the now sodden letter, "What you wrote, do you mean it?"

Eris scoffed at the ridiculous nature of your question, "Mean it? Of course I mean it, I wouldn't write it if I didn't."

"Say it" you ordered, "Please. I need to hear you say it."

The old Eris would have walked away, ignored your demands and fought against his tempestuous emotions. He would have never been able to express how he felt, unable to allow the words to escape from his lips.

Yet with one look at you, saturated hair clinging to your cheeks as you looked towards the male in desperation, Eris could feel his mask slipping. The stone veil falling from his face before it dropped to the ground and shattered.

And for the first time in your life you were staring at the true face of Eris Vanserra.

Tears streaming down his face as he allowed the wave of his once hidden emotions to crash over him.

"I love you" he confessed, burning stare meeting your own, "gods I love you."

A delighted laugh broke from the males lips as the weight of his confession lifted from his chest, hands flying to your smiling cheeks as the truth of his affections continued to flow, "Mind, body, soul, I'm yours. All of me. Mask or no mask, I have always belonged to you. I love you so much, and I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you this sooner."

"But I knew, Eris" you cried along with your partner, the heated touch of his warming palms enough to burn your tears away as they came, "Even though you never said it aloud I always knew, because you showed it to me in every way that counts. You have never failed to make me feel anything but loved."

"And do you?" he asked through heavy breaths, "Do you feel the same for me as I do for you?"

"Eris Vanserra" you beamed up at the male before you, eyes glistening as you absorbed the rawness of his heartfelt expression, " I have loved you since before I ever even knew you, and I always will. My heart belongs to you Eris, until my dying breath."

Unable to stop the sob which tore from his lips, Eris allowed himself to cry, arms coming to wrap around your middle in a crushing embrace as he sought to stabilize his trembling frame.

"I think I'm going to need a new letter" you mumbled into his chest, the ruined piece of paper having fallen to the rain-soaked ground in the midst of your embrace.

"I'll write you a thousand more if that's what you want" Eris promised, lips coming to softly press against you head as his tears subsided, "But I think I'd rather tell you how I feel from now on."

"I'd like that" you replied staring up at the male you loved so dearly, "I'd like that very much."

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

Notes: Ahhh I love this fic so much! Thank you @sarawritestories for holding my hand and walking me through this 😂

[thewulf]

A Realm Reborn || Eris Vanserra

Summary: Request - I know there aren’t many Eris fics out there, especially ones that dive deeper into his unexplored character, so I was wondering if you could write one? In my head, Eris is the same stoic, narcissistic male we meet in the books. His last dispute with the Night Court leave Rhys ordering Azriel to spy on him and his affairs... Read Rest Here

A/N: Sorry for the delay! My mom came into town this weekend so spent my time with her :) I LOVED WRITING THIS. Cheeky Rhys is my favorite and a different side to Eris is always welcomed. Thank you SO much for the request @talesofadragon

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Female Reader (Mate)

Word Count: 6.2k +

TW: Pregnant Mate, coup, coup success (no direct talk of actual death)

In the dense shadows cast by the towering trees of the Autumn Court, Eris Vanserra's thoughts were troubled. Despite his position as Beron's son, he found himself increasingly ensnared by the labyrinth of court politic. A dangerous game where your involvement could mean your undoing. As his feelings for you deepened so too did his fear for your safety.

It was during a whispered conversation that was hidden away in the less frequented corridors of his father's estate that Eris's resolve hardened. "The Autumn Court is no place for you," he told you. His voice a mix of determination and despair. "Not while it's a chessboard for power and you could become a pawn my love."

Eris knew that secrecy was your best shield. For that he turned to Thesan, the High Lord of the Dawn Court. Known for his benevolence and discrete nature Thesan was a stark contrast to Beron. Eris met with Thesan under the veil of night at a secluded crossroads where the borders of their realms brushed against each other.

Eris approached Thesan with a heavy heart. His steps echoing through the quiet, ornate halls of the Dawn Court. The tranquil beauty of his surroundings did little to soothe his frayed nerves. He had spent countless nights planning his approach, and now, standing before the High Lord of the Dawn Court his usual stoic mask softened revealing the urgency and desperation he felt.

"I come seeking your aid but not for myself. For someone very dear to me," Eris began. His voice trembling slightly despite his best efforts to remain composed. Thesan, who was ever observant, noted the uncharacteristic vulnerability in Eris's eyes and inclined his head signaling for him to continue.

Eris took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. "The Autumn Court is a place of shadows and intrigue. A web of danger that ensnares even the most cautious as you know. My mate, she... she is from the Dawn Court and the light and peace here are what she needs to remain safe. Safe in her home. The Autumn Court's cruelty... it's no place for her especially now that she carries our child."

Thesan's eyes widened slightly at this revelation, but he remained silent allowing Eris to continue.

"I beg of you, Thesan," Eris nearly whispered as his voice was raw with emotion. "Grant her sanctuary here, within the safety and serenity of your court. Of her old home. I cannot bear the thought of her, or our unborn child being exposed to the darkness that pervades my father's realm. She needs a place where the shadows of the Autumn Court cannot reach. Where she can live without fear."

The plea in Eris's voice was palpable. Each word weighted with the love and desperation he felt. Thesan regarded him for a moment seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the genuine fear for his loved one's safety.

After a long pause Thesan nodded, his decision made. "The Dawn Court values peace and protection above all else. Your mate will find sanctuary here, Eris. She will be safe within our borders hidden from those who would seek to harm her."

Relief washed over Eris. His shoulders sagging slightly as the burden he had carried for so long began to lift. "Thank you," he breathed with his gratitude profound. "You have no idea what this means to me, to us."

Thesan offered a reassuring smile. "I do, Eris. Go with the knowledge that she will be well protected. And when the time comes I hope your court can find the light it so desperately needs." With a final nod Eris turned to leave, his heart lighter but his resolve stronger than ever. He would do everything in his power to ensure that you and your child would live in safety and peace as far away from the shadows of the Autumn Court as he could find.

Grateful for Thesan's understanding Eris arranged for your discreet relocation. Under the cover of darkness, you were spirited away to a hidden cottage deep within the Dawn Court's lush forests. It was a haven crafted from silence and secrecy surrounded by nature's untouched beauty where the only shadows were those cast by the leaves.

Eris visited as often as his duties allowed. Each departure from the Autumn Court a carefully orchestrated affair to avoid drawing attention. To the world he remained the calculating, distant son of Beron. But with you, he allowed his true self to surface—tender and fiercely protective.

"You must stay hidden, just a little longer," Eris would say during his visits. His hands cupping your face, eyes searching yours for any sign of weariness. "For now, this is where you are safest. One day I hope to bring you back with me. And not as a secret to be kept but as my queen to be celebrated."

In your hidden sanctuary under Thesan's subtle protection, you found a semblance of peace. The Dawn Court became your home again. A place where you could breathe away from the oppressive intrigues of the Autumn Court. Though your heart longed for the day you and Eris could be openly together you understood the necessity of the present shadows. Within them, you grew strong, waiting for the day the dawn could truly be yours.

You often linger in the quiet serenity of dawn's light patiently awaiting the gentle tap at your window that heralds his arrival. Eris, burdened with the obligations of being Beron’s son and a key figure in the Autumn Court manages to carve out stolen moments to visit you. Each time he appears there’s a softening in his eyes. A tenderness reserved just for you that no one back at his court ever gets to see. “I wish I could be here more,” he murmurs apologetically. His fingers brushing lightly against your skin. The touch contrasting starkly with his usual guarded nature. He repeats this apology with every visit, each word heavy with the longing for a simpler life one that was far removed from the intricate dances of court politics. You understand, of course. You always do. The stakes are high, and the secrecy of your relationship weighs heavily on both of your hearts.

Within the walls of the Autumn Court Eris embodies stoicism. His face is a mask of composure. His decisions and demeanor shaped by necessity and surveillance. Here, he is not just Beron's son but a pivotal player in the court's machinations. He was always under the watchful eyes of those who would see him falter. The warmth and smiles he shares with you are absent in his home instead replaced by the cold, calculating guise required of him.

Meanwhile, Rhysand senses an undercurrent of discrepancy in Eris’s pattern of behavior. Accustomed to the complexities of leadership and the personal sacrifices it demands Rhysand detects a shift that is hard to ignore. With a furrowed brow he calls upon Azriel, his master of spies. "Watch Eris closely," he instructs. His voice imbued with the gravity of his concern. "There’s a chance he’s entangled in something perilous. Or perhaps embroiled in a plot that could endanger us all."

Azriel nods, his presence already fading into the gathering shadows. Azriel was prepared to delve into the night. His task is to monitor Eris discreetly. To trace his secretive steps and to uncover any truths that might threaten the precarious balance between their realms. As Azriel disappears, a silent storm seems to brew on the horizon. The weight of potential betrayals and hidden agendas casting a long shadow over the Night Court.

Back in the secluded embrace of the Dawn Court where you await his next visit you remain blissfully unaware of the watchful eyes now turned towards your secret refuge. The moments you share with Eris are fleeting yet filled with an intensity that speaks of a profound connection, each whispered promise and shared dream a defiance of the roles and duties that seek to keep you apart.

As the Shadowsinger, Azriel had honed his skills to near perfection, blending seamlessly into the night as he monitored the borders of the Night Court. His task was to unravel the threads of a mystery that had intrigued Rhysand: the secretive movements of Eris Vanserra. Despite Azriel's expertise Eris had proven to be a challenging subject. He was lways cautious, always covered in a cloak of meticulous precision.

Night after night, Azriel's shadows whispered back fragments of routines, patterns that spoke of careful planning and discreet travels. Yet, nothing conclusive presented itself. No proof of wrongdoing or secret alliances—until that unexpected storm brewed over the Dawn Court.

Under the cover of an enveloping storm in the Dawn Court Eris Vanserra attempted to maneuver back to the Autumn Court with his usual stealth. The violent weather, however, disrupted his precise timings, extending his stay unexpectedly and playing havoc with his meticulously laid plans. This deviation caught the attention of Azriel who had been tracking the faintest traces of inconsistency in Eris’s movements for weeks.

That night as the storm raged Azriel’s shadows grew more potent, swirling with the tempest, mirroring the chaos of the natural world. They led him directly to a secluded path where Eris, cloaked against the elements and made his late departure from a hidden cottage tucked away in the lush foliage of the Dawn Court.

Azriel was drenched but determined. He confronted Eris on the storm-laden path. "Eris," Azriel called out sharply, his voice cutting through the howling wind, "the storm may shield you from others but not from the shadows."

Eris stopped, his silhouette tense. Azriel stepped forward as his presence was unmistakable. He was a shadow among shadows. "What secrets do you hide that necessitate such risks, even in such perilous weather?" Azriel demanded. This time his tone sharper, more pressing than before.

Seeing no immediate reply Azriel took a calculated step towards the cottage hinting at his intent to discover the truth himself. It was then that he saw it—fear, genuine and stark, flit across Eris’s features. A rare crack in his usually impenetrable facade.

"Wait!" Eris’s voice broke through the storm immediately halting Azriel's advance. The urgency and fear in his tone were palpable. "There is someone... someone very important to me inside. It’s not just my safety at stake. I implore you, for their safety, let us not draw any unwanted attention here."

Azriel paused as he evaluated Eris's plea, the sincerity in his voice resonating even amidst the tumult of the storm. "Who are you protecting, Eris?" Azriel asked. His stance unyielding yet not advancing further.

With the storm as their only witness, Eris's resolve crumbled. "I am to be a father," he confessed. The words heavy with a mix of fear and protective fervor. "The mother of my child, my mate, she is there in the cottage. The Autumn Court is no place for her Not with the dangers and the dark games afoot."

Azriel's expression softened ever so slightly understanding the depth of Eris’s concern. "This is a matter for Rhysand. Secrets involving cross-court movements can endanger more than just your family," he insisted though his voice carried a note of empathy.

In the aftermath of the storm that had inadvertently revealed his secret, Eris found himself following Azriel through the winding, rain-slicked paths that led back to the Night Court. The journey was tense, filled with the unsaid words and unasked questions that hung heavily between them. Azriel led the way, his figure a dark blur against the storm-dampened landscape.

Upon their arrival Rhysand awaited them in his study. The room bathed in the soft glow of floating orbs that cast long shadows across his face. The High Lord of the Night Court regarded Eris with a mix of curiosity and sternness. His expression a masterful blend of intrigue and authority.

"Eris," Rhysand began. His voice smooth and deceptively light, "Azriel has been quite entertained tracking your nocturnal adventures. It’s not every day we catch a son of Autumn dancing with the dawn. So, tell me, what drives you to seek refuge in the light while your own court dwells in shadow?"

Eris with his usual composure battling with the raw urgency of his situation took a deep breath before speaking. "It's a matter of the heart and of life," he confessed. The gravity of his words reflecting the seriousness of his plight. "I have my mate in the Dawn Court. She is with child. The Autumn Court is a place of machinations and malice. No place to raise a family or to cherish life."

Rhysand leaned back in his chair. A slow smile spreading across his face, his eyes twinkling with the thrill of unfolding secrets. "A clandestine love and an unborn child," he mused. His tone both amused and considerate. "You do know how to weave a compelling tale, Eris. But such secrets could tip the scales of power. They need... managing."

Standing up, Rhysand circled his desk, coming to lean against it as he faced Eris squarely. "Here’s my offer—a bargain if you will. I ensure your family's safety. We will shield them from the shadows of your father’s reach. In return, you pledge your loyalty to me. Provide me with insight into Autumn, help me understand its inner workings. Together, we might just find a way to bring a little more light into your court."

Eris's eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the proposal. "You're asking me to betray my court Rhysand."

Rhysand's grin widened with playful glint in his eyes. He was enjoying this far too much. "Not betrayal, Eris. Think of it as... strategic realignment. Besides, isn't it high time Autumn had a leader who values life and love over power and fear?"

Eris let out a short, humorless laugh. "You make it sound so noble, Rhysand. But we both know it's about leverage. You want eyes and ears in Autumn, and I need my family safe."

Rhysand shrugged, unfazed. "Call it what you like. Leverage, nobility, practicality. The fact remains that we both get what we need. And honestly Eris, who else are you going to trust with this? Beron? One of your brothers?"

Eris's gaze hardened. "Watch your tongue, Rhysand. My family may be fractured but they are still my blood."

Rhysand raised his hands in mock surrender. His smile never faltering. "Peace, Eris. I'm merely stating the obvious. Your loyalty to them is admirable but it's misplaced if it endangers your mate and child."

Eris felt the weight of his decision pressing down on him. The safety of his mate and future child was paramount and he knew this was the only way to secure it. With a heavy heart, he made his choice, knowing his true loyalty now lay with you and the life growing within you.

“You have a deal then Rhysand,” Eris agreed. His voice resolute yet tinged with regret. “I accept your bargain.”

Rhysand extended his hand with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Welcome to the family, Eris. Let’s hope this is the start of a fruitful partnership.”

Eris scoffed at the word "family," the irony not lost on him. "Family," he repeated, his tone filled with bitterness. This only drew a wider smile from Rhysand, who seemed to relish the complexity of the situation. Eris shook Rhysand’s hand firmly making sure to seal the pact with a mixture of determination and resignation. “Indeed. For both our sakes.”

Rhysand’s grin widened very pleased with the agreement. "Excellent," he replied, his tone rich with satisfaction. "I do enjoy a good bargain. Especially when it’s sealed under such... dramatic circumstances."

As Eris left the study the weight of the bargain settled around him. He was entwined now in the intricate dance of court politics in ways he had never anticipated. Yet, there was a flicker of hope. A chance that through this bargain his mate and child might live free from fear.

In the serene twilight of the Dawn Court the air was filled with the gentle scent of blooming night flowers casting a tranquil spell over the hidden cottage that had become your sanctuary. Eris had arrived under the cover of dusk, his presence a comforting shadow in the doorway. His eyes looked for yours with a mixture of longing and solemnity.

As he stepped inside the softness in his gaze was solely for you. The harshness of his other life momentarily stripped away. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tender embrace. His touch speaking of missed moments and cherished returns.

“You’re looking more beautiful every day,” Eris murmured with his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. His hand gently caressed your swollen belly. The life within a testament to your shared love hidden away from the world’s prying eyes. “Not long now,” he whispered. A trace of both excitement and anxiety threading his voice.

Eris knelt before you. His fingers tracing the curve of your belly with reverence. “Just hold on for a little longer, my love,” he said softly addressing both you and the unborn child. “The time is near, and soon, we won’t have to hide. Soon, I’ll bring you both into the light where you belong.”

He pressed his lips gently to your stomach. A silent promise passing from his lips to the child who stirred at his touch. “Your father is working on making the world a safer place for you,” he whispered as if he believed the baby could hear and understand. “A place where shadows turn into protection, not peril. Just a little longer.”

As the night deepened around you, Eris shared whispers of a plan—a strategic move that would change everything. “Rhysand and I, we’ve set things in motion,” he confided in you with his voice a low rumble filled with a blend of hope and determination. “It’s a risk, a great one, but it’s for us—for our family. For a future where our child can grow up without fear.”

In the quiet comfort of the cottage, as Eris shared the weight of his plans, you listened with a heart full of mixed emotions. Hope mingled with worry. When he finished speaking you pulled him closer, your hands framing his face gently guiding him to look directly into your eyes.

With the softest of touches, you pressed your lips to his. A kiss filled with all the love and reassurance you could muster. "Be careful, Eris," you whispered against his lips, the urgency of your plea softened by the affection in your voice. "Remember, you're not just fighting for the two of anymore. We need you, both your baby and me. We need you to come back to us."

Eris's eyes that were usually so fierce and determined softened under the sincerity of your words. He nodded as a vow passing between you two. "I will be careful," he promised, the steadiness in his voice aiming to soothe your fears. "I'll return to you, to both of you. That's a promise I intend to keep."

He held you a little longer. The silence around you blooming like the night flowers in the garden. It was a precious, fragile moment. One filled with the promise of futures both bright and uncertain.

With one last look, a lingering gaze that seemed to capture every facet of his love and commitment, Eris stepped back into the shadows of the night. Leaving behind the safety of the cottage for the dangers that awaited. You watched him disappear holding tightly to the promise sealed with a kiss. The belief in his return keeping your fears at bay as the dawn approached.

Eris's farewell to you was tender. It was filled with promises and reassurances whispered against the backdrop of a serene Dawn Court dawn. Yet, the moment he stepped out of the cottage and into the cool morning air, the weight of what was to come settled over him like armor. He glanced back once, locking away the image of you standing in the doorway. A silhouette of strength and grace against the soft morning light. With that final, poignant image etched in his heart he turned and disappeared into the forest where he was whisked away to the Night Court.

It was abrupt, he serene ambiance of the Dawn Court giving way to the charged atmosphere of the House of Wind. Under the shadow of the mountain and the watchful eyes of the stars, Rhysand and his Inner Circle were already assembled. The war room was alive with low conversations and the rustle of maps. Each member of the Inner Circle reviewing their roles one last time.

As Eris entered the room fell into a hushed anticipation. Rhysand looked up, his expression a mix of concern and resolve. "It's time," he simply stated acknowledging Eris's arrival as the final piece of their carefully laid plan clicking into place.

Eris nodded, the transition from loving partner to a leader poised to reclaim his court complete. He approached the table. His gaze sweeping over the maps and documents that laid out the coup in meticulous detail. His input had been critical in shaping the strategy, and now, as the dawn light began to spill over the horizon he prepared to lead the charge that would end Beron's reign.

"Let's go over this one last time," Eris said. His voice steady and commanding, drawing the group’s focus. The Inner Circle leaned in ready to absorb every last detail. In this room with these allies, Eris transformed from a partner worried for his family's safety into a general about to lead a battle for freedom and justice.

The plan was clear, each member’s role defined with precision. As they finalized their preparations the weight of responsibility was palpable but so was the sense of imminent change. They were not just planning a coup. They were setting the stage for a new era in the Autumn Court. An era that would begin as soon as Eris and his team stepped back through the portal, ready to act.

The coup unfolded with the silent ferocity of a shadow moving across a dimly lit room. Under the cloak of night, Eris, accompanied by a cadre of Night Court elites, maneuvered through the twisting corridors of the Autumn Court. Their steps were soundless. Their presence as spectral as the whispers of conspiracies that had long filled these halls. Azriel had masterfully neutralized the guards leaving Beron's defenses stripped away exposing him to the fate that awaited.

Beron, the once formidable High Lord of Autumn, was found alone in his private chambers. His usual contingent of protectors conspicuously absent thanks to Azriel. As Eris entered, the air tightened, charged with the imminent finality of what was to come. Beron turned, his face contorting with a complex mix of emotions—betrayal, fear, and a grudging acceptance of his grim fate.

"Eris," Beron began. His voice faltering under the weight of his son's cold gaze. "Is this how you claim your legacy? With treachery?"

Eris stood unwavering, his figure casting a long shadow that merged with the darkness of the room. "This isn't treachery, Father. This is justice," he replied. His voice resonating with a steely calm that belied the storm of emotions within. "For years your reign has sown fear and pain. Under your rule trust was a weakness and love a liability."

He stepped closer his eyes never leaving Beron's. "I learned from you all the ways a leader should not govern. You ruled with cruelty, believing it strength. You fostered suspicion and betrayal among your own people."

Beron's eyes that were once so commanding now flickered with the realization of his imminent demise. He tried to muster his usual authoritative tone, but it cracked, revealing his underlying despair. "You are my blood. Would you truly strike down your own father?"

Eris's expression hardened, any filial affection extinguished by years of cold indifference and calculated manipulation. "I am your son, but I am not you. I will not be a tyrant. I will be the leader that the Autumn Court deserves. One who rules with integrity, not through fear. I will undo the damage you've inflicted upon our realm."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Eris drew closer. His presence overwhelming the room. "You won't be remembered as a mighty ruler, only as a cautionary tale of the ruin that comes from such tyranny."

With that, Eris ended Beron's reign. Not with grandiose declarations or a spectacle, but in the quiet of the night. A swift and decisive action that mirrored his commitment to change. Beron slumped, a final sigh escaping him, a mixture of relief and resignation, as the terror of his own legacy finally caught up with him.

As Eris stood over his fallen father, the weight of his actions settled upon him. This was the first step toward a better future. A reign defined by compassion and fairness, the antithesis of everything Beron had stood for. In that profound and painful moment Eris vowed to reshape the Autumn Court into a place where fear no longer held sway.

It was declared the next morning that Beron had passed in his sleep. A peaceful end to a tumultuous reign that accepted without question by his brothers and even his mother who all were too aware of the need for change. The guards, their loyalty ensured through discreet negotiations by Cassian, upheld the narrative ensuring a seamless transition of power. It was either that or death.

Eris took the reins of leadership with a careful, watchful grace. The initial weeks were fraught with subtle maneuvers and delicate alliances. He addressed the Autumn Court not with grand declarations but with a quiet assertion of a new philosophy. One where fear and oppression had no place.

During this time Eris chose to keep you hidden a while longer in the Dawn Court ensuring that any remnants of his father's loyalists were fully pacified. That the court's stability was unquestionable. With the realm calm and the whispers of dissent fading into hopeful dialogues Eris finally felt the time was right to bring you home.

You were near the end of your pregnancy when Eris returned to you. His joy at seeing you so close to bringing their child into the world was mingled with a profound relief that he could now share his life openly with you. “The court is ready for you, my love,” Eris whispered as he knelt before you his hand gently caressing your belly. “And they will adore you as I do.”

With careful planning your arrival at the Autumn Court was orchestrated not as a mere introduction but as a celebration of the new life both in your womb and in the realm. When you finally appeared by Eris's side with his arm protectively around you, the court met you not with whispers of curiosity but with open arms and quiet respect.

Your presence at Eris’s side in the subsequent weeks, visibly pregnant and radiant, served as a powerful symbol of the new era in the Autumn Court. A time of transparency, renewal, and familial love. As you walked through the halls of the palace, those who met your gaze saw not just their future queen but as the hope for a new peace that Eris had promised.

With Eris's careful introduction of you to the court your grace and warmth quickly dispelled any lingering doubts. The both of you navigated this new chapter. Your partnership a public testament to the union of love and leadership that promised to guide the Autumn Court into a prosperous and open-hearted future.

The early morning light filtered through the windows of the Autumn Court casting warm hues over the hall where a significant gathering was about to take place. The air buzzed with anticipation. Not just for the political ceremony but for the new life that had already sparked joy and hope throughout the court.

Only weeks earlier, in the quiet sanctity of the royal chambers, you had given birth to a baby boy. The event was celebrated quietly but joyously within the palace and news of the heir's arrival had already endeared the court to their new High Lord and his family even more.

The great hall of the Autumn Court buzzed with an electric anticipation. Its ancient stones echoing the soft murmurs of courtiers and the rustle of fine silks. High Lords from neighboring courts lined the room. Their expressions a mixture of curiosity and cautious respect, with Rhysand among them, his observant eyes missing nothing.

You stood beside Eris, the warmth of his presence a steady comfort as you held your son. The baby, swaddled snugly, peeked out with wide eyes. His tiny fingers clutching at the air. Eris, resplendent in the deep hues of autumn—gold and russet embroidered onto his ceremonial robes—looked every inch the leader reborn. He exuded a calm authority. His gestures tender yet assured as he adjusted the blanket around your son, his touch gentle yet firm.

As the moment for the ceremony approached the murmurs hushed to a reverent silence. The eldest of the courtiers, a venerable fae with silver hair flowing down his back, stepped forward. He carried the mantle of the High Lord. An ornate piece embroidered with the rich history of their people.

“Today, we witness the dawn of a new era," the elder announced. His voice resonating through the hall. "Here stands Eris Vanserra who has proven his mettle not just as a warrior but as a leader who values justice and the welfare of his people above all."

Turning to Eris he draped the mantle over his shoulders. "By the power of all and the traditions of our court and the approval of the High Lords here present, I declare you, Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court. May your reign bring peace and prosperity to our lands."

Rhysand’s gaze was steady on Eris with a small, knowing smile playing at his lips, signaling silent approval. As the mantle settled on Eris's shoulders the court erupted into applause. The sound thunderous in the enclosed space, relieved. The courtiers’ faces were alight with hope and respect. Their applause not just a formality but a heartfelt endorsement of their new leader.

Eris took a moment to let the weight of the mantle and the responsibility it symbolized sink in. Then, he turned to you and your son. His expression softening. He leaned in close, his words for you alone amidst the clamor, "We begin anew, for us and our son."

As the applause continued Eris addressed the assembly. His voice carrying the strength of his convictions. "I stand before you today, not as a ruler in isolation, but as one who seeks to lead through unity and understanding. Together we will rebuild what was lost and forge new paths toward a future filled with hope."

The promise of his words with the vision he shared, resonated deeply, not just within the walls of the great hall but through the heart of every fae present. As you looked up at him, your son cradled between you, the significance of this moment was not just in the crowning of a new High Lord but in the celebration of a family that would guide this transformation. Beneath the watchful eyes of allies and adversaries alike you stood ready to embark on this new journey. A journey that promised to reshape the world around you.

As Rhysand approached with a dignified yet warm presence, the hall's chatter faded, creating a private sphere around you, Eris, and the Night Court High Lord. Rhysand's eyes softened as he gazed at the child in your arms and his smile conveyed genuine respect and joy.

"Congratulations are certainly in order," he began. His voice gentle, addressing you directly with a warmth that felt personal and sincere. "Not only for the birth of your son but for being the cornerstone upon which a new Autumn has been reborn. Truly, a new era indeed."

You felt a flush of pride at his words recognizing the depth of the role you had played in the transformations not just within your family but across the court. "Thank you, Rhysand," you responded. Your voice steady and filled with gratitude. "It's been a journey of many challenges, but seeing the court unite and thrive under Eris's leadership. It’s a reward in itself. Our son will grow up in a realm that values peace and unity all thanks to the support from friends like you."

Rhysand nodded appreciatively at your acknowledgment before turning his attention to Eris. "Today, we celebrate not only the stability and peace that Lord Eris has brought to the Autumn Court," he continued. His voice echoing subtly through the now quieter hall. "We also mark the formal conclusion of our agreement. A pact sealed to protect and to rebuild. Seeing the prosperity it has brought here, I declare our mission accomplished."

Eris, standing tall and proud beside you, responded with a nod. His voice resonating with confidence and a touch of emotion. "The support of the Night Court was invaluable during these times of change. With our goals achieve we now stand together not just as allies but as friends in work. As High Lord of Autumn, I am committed to leading with transparency and integrity. The very same principles that this alliance has been built upon."

Eris then turned back to you. His expression gentler as he included you and your son in his gaze. "And none of this could have been possible without the strength and support of my family," he affirmed, his voice tender. "My mate and our son are the heart of all we strive for. The future we envision."

Rhysand's smile broadened. His eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and camaraderie. "The Autumn Court is indeed fortunate. To rise from shadows into such a promising dawn guided by such devoted hands," he commented. "Your son will grow up in a realm reborn. One that cherishes life and love. A true testament to both of you."

With a final nod of respect Rhysand allowed other courtiers to approach and offer their congratulations leaving you with the affirming knowledge of your family's central role in shaping a hopeful future for the Autumn Court.

The day moved into celebration. The halls of the Autumn Court ringing with music and laughter, a stark contrast to the days of Beron’s rule. As you mingled among your people Eris was always nearby. It was clear that the court was not just accepting but truly embracing this new chapter.

Your family stood later at the balcony overlooking the vibrant gardens. Your son nestled against you. Eris’s arm wrapped protectively around both of you. Below, the people of the Autumn Court looked up, their faces smiling, their cheers a promise of loyalty and hope. This was the future Eris had fought for. A legacy of love and peace for his son and it was just beginning.

As the celebrations dwindled into the soft hues of the evening, the Autumn Court, now steeped in the gentle sounds of peace and prosperity, seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. The corridors and gardens that were once the backdrop of clandestine plots and whispered fears now echoed with laughter and hopeful conversations.

Inside the royal quarters, Eris, you, and your son found solitude away from the remaining festivities. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun filtering through large windows and casting golden patterns on the floor. Eris stood by the window while holding your son gently in his arms, watching as his little eyes fluttered closed, succumbing to sleep after a day filled with new sensations.

Turning from the window Eris walked back to where you sat, a soft smile playing on his lips. He handed your son to you, and you cradled him close feeling the gentle rise and fall of his tiny chest. Eris sat beside you, his arm encircling your shoulders, drawing you both into his embrace.

"Today, I felt everything align my love," Eris whispered, his voice a tender rumble in the quiet room. "Seeing our people, hearing their hopes, and holding our son—I have never been more certain of our path."

You nodded, leaning into his side, your head resting against his shoulder. "It feels like we've finally stepped out of the shadows," you murmured back feeling the truth of your words resonate deep within.

Eris kissed the top of your head. His gaze lingering on the peaceful face of your son. "We did more than step out," he corrected softly, pride mingling with joy in his tone. "We dispelled them, together."

As twilight deepened, the three of you sat in silence. A family united not just by blood but by the shared trials that had tempered your spirits and bound your hearts. Outside, the last light of the day gave way to the first stars of night, a symbol of the enduring light you had brought to the Autumn Court.

Eris's earlier turmoil with the weight of leadership and legacy, seemed to dissolve instead replaced by a profound contentment. In this quiet room with his family, his court secure and thriving, he felt a happiness that was deep and genuine. A happiness that whispered of enduring peace and future filled with promise.

This moment, simple yet profound, was the true beginning for Eris, you, and your son. A beginning marked not by declarations and formalities but by quiet love and shared dreams under the watchful stars of the Autumn Court.

ACOTAR Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @lilah-asteria @fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139

[the-darkestminds]

May The Shadows Carry You Home

READ ON AO3

Commissioned art at the end of the piece! (credit: asheskart)

Eris Week Day 6: AU/Retellings. Azris.

Word Count: 900

A/N: No preview because it's so short. A huge thank you to @jules-writes-stories for being so wonderful and beta reading this for me! 🫶

Tag List: @erisweekofficial @jules-writes-stories @chunkypossum @acourtofladydeath @talibunny30 @fieldofdaisiies @zenkindoflove @secret-third-thing @ninthcircleofprythian @mistandmemories @neciebee @brunetterebel010

[acourtofmenandthirst]

A New Male (Part I of II)

Rhysand’s Sister!Reader x Eris

So this is as canon as possible, but I already blurred the Rhys’s sister & mother and Mor storyline - so just go with it! This takes place pre-Feyre, so just some Night Court family drama :) I know I’ve been absent, it’s been hard to find time to write, but I wanted to share the first half of what I have so far!

Thank you to the anon(s) who requested this, I really like the storyline, it’s just been taking me a long time to put together and I had a long plot, so need a part two (was just too excited to make anyone wait any longer!) & thank you to my sister for getting me to sit down and write it lol

Part II Here

Warnings: None, mother’s death, controlling family (what else is new for both of these families)

Word Count: 5.6K

“Be careful, (Y/N),” your mother yelled as you flung open the balcony doors. “Don’t leave the court and be back before sunset - ”

“I will!” You call back, not even turning back down the hall to where she stood in the kitchen doorway, drying a copper pot. She rolled her eyes, unable to hide the small smile playing on her lips as you leapt off the balcony with a dive, holding your arms straight in front of you as you twisted through the air. The rocks slid past, blurring in your vision, before you threw your wings out, catching yourself halfway down the fall.

The wind captured you, letting you sail over the racing river and coast amongst the clouds. The wind bit at you, and you almost cursed yourself for not grabbing a jacket before you left. But you let the cool air swirl through your hair and dance across your rosy cheeks, swallowing in the fresh air after you let out a long breath. 

Freedom - the rush of the air, the vapors dancing over the whirling river, the dark pine trees littering the bank. It had been too long since you’d flown over the city of Velaris. The citizens below you were none the wiser, staring up at you from so far below that they thought you were merely a bird. 

Your brother often berated you for flying so high, so far from home.

“You’re not High Lord, Rhysand,” you grumbled, pushing past him as he followed you inside from the terrace. “Stop acting like father.”

Rhys rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his black hair. The insult hurt him more than he thought it should. “I’m not acting like father - I’m just worried about your safety.” He winnowed two steps in front of you, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom, arms crossed over his chest. His own wings were drawn out, flayed in the arch. “Besides, I will be High Lord someday, so you better start listening to me now.”

You huffed a breath but offered your older brother a smile. “You don’t know that - maybe the powers will call to me,” you offered simply, propping your hands on your hips. “The first female High Lord?”

Rhys laughed, barking out a chase breath. “I would entertain the idea if I didn’t already know how much stronger I am than you.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, scoffing at your annoying brother as you pushed past him into the hallway. 

You smiled at the memory, heart clenching a bit as you thought of him, away in the Illyrian mountains. He’d been gone with your father, tending to whatever court duties your father felt was too dirty to bother you with. As his daughter, you weren’t allowed in the war camps, couldn’t visit your mother’s family or train with the young males. You barely knew Rhysand’s friends - those he considered his brothers - as you weren’t permitted to intermingle with that side of your family. Your father had a soft spot for you, though, one that caused him to keep you nearly hidden from Illyrian life, your wings had been the only Illyrian relic for you to keep. 

You soared over the trees and cluttered forest, along the cliffs of the mountain as you flew past the mountain and neared the Winter Court. The air was just as bitter as it was in Night, burning your lungs as you gasped for air. You hadn't flown that fast in a long while, only being allowed to fly alone when your father was gone. Otherwise, he demanded that your mother or brother went with you. 

“You don’t know what kind of savages lie beyond these borders,” he had told you, dark eyes not peering up from the book he had propped on his desk. 

“I know all about the Attors and the Naga and the - ”

“It is not just about the creatures, (Y/N),” he interrupted, turning the page, eyes skimming the material, tone unwavering. “What you fail to understand is that there are Fae that want to hurt you, too. The males you don’t think twice about have been waiting their whole lives for an opportunity to hurt you.” You bit back whatever response you had waiting. Instead, you simply turned on your heel and made your way out of the office. His voice called down the stony hall: “you’ll thank me someday.” 

Past the snowy tree tops and icy river in the Winter Court, you found yourself crossing the border once more, this time into Autumn. The haze swirled around the orange and red trees, murky fog gathering through the forest, hiding all of the secrets Autumn had to offer. You met the harsh smell of the bonfire as you neared the clearing, flapping your wings to keep you up higher and avoid the smoke. You curled your arms around yourself, wishing you had that jacket afterall. 

But the warmth of the fire was so inviting, the smell of the smoke that reminded you only of the sweet cinnamon spice and crunch of a freshly harvested apple. 

You bit your lip, arms running over your frigid skin. You narrowed your eyes as you dropped altitude, hovering just above the trees. You recognized that fiery red hair from a mile away - the tall male playing with the fire swirling it in his hands, flames dancing in his eyes. 

Eris Vanserra. 

The Autumn Court male sat perched on a fallen tree, the dying bark stiff and dark. He looked so relaxed - and if you squinted, you could make out the slight curve of his shoulders, slouched. You almost smiled, remembering the last time you saw him at one of the Court of Nightmares’ balls. 

Beron had brought all of his sons. There had been only three at that time. Three rowdy males, itching to escape the tight pressed suits with stiff collars, unable to stop themselves from making smart remarks and flashing their teeth at any Night Court female wearing less than their Autumn counterparts. 

Beron stood proud in the center, flanked by Eris and his wife, then the two remaining sons. They all stood straight, shoulders back and chins held high, as if they owned the room. And the people in it. 

Your father was fond of Beron, perhaps it was their innate coldness to the world, their matching thirst for power. Despite their friendship, it was Rhysand who permitted you from fraternizing with them. “Stay away from them,” he spat through gritted teeth, staring at the tallest one, who, unsurprisingly, was glaring back with just as much fervor. 

Though shivers ran down your spine. You watched as his light lips pulled up ever so slightly at the corner, his dark red brows held straight. His eyes burned, a caged animal who knew his escape, waiting for just the right moment to pounce. 

A smirk that was positively feral. 

And Rhys didn’t miss how those fiery eyes flitted to you. 

He broke his own trance only to demand your attention, hoping you hadn’t met that damned Vanserra stare, the one that held the promise of Eris marking his territory. You snapped at your brother as he grabbed your forearm under the table, pulling you towards him. But Rhys continued: “I mean it, (Y/N), he’s not here to make friends.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the crowd, eyes scanning for where Cassian stood guard at the door. It took you longer to find Azriel, lurking in the shadows - the only thing visible in the dark coverage were those bright eyes. You’d overheard your brother requesting their help. He had his own plans for taking over the court, already forming plans and handing out responsibility to his makeshift brothers. Tonight, they had been ordered to watch you. 

Or - watch those watching you. 

“It’s a ball, Rhysand.” Your eyes flitted to his midnight-colored ones, narrowed at you. “I can entertain my guests.”

“Not. That. One.” 

What he didn’t tell you was that your father and Eris’s father had struck up a deal. A plan Rhys was also not too fond of, and had done all but begged his father to decline. In a deceptive attempt to tie the two courts together, Beron and your father had betrothed the two of you. But Rhys had a lengthy meeting with his father, lasting days during their last trip to one of the Illyrian warcamps, convincing him that tying you to Beron, dropping you in the midst of Autumn - wings and all - would not be so kind. 

And even though all The High Lord of the Night Court wanted was power and territory, you were still his favorite child. His most prized possession, not one he would easily pass off into foreign hands, into the burning flames of the barely mature Autumn male. 

Your father had some pent up feelings about it, taking it out of Rhys and the poor Illyrians. He’d dealt with it though, able to relish in his one small victory. 

It was rumored Kier’s wife was carrying a daughter, though. 

You circled around the treetops, dancing around the burrowing smoke from the bonfire, grey swirling against the colorful trees. Eris hadn’t moved much, legs outstretched in front of him, lazily throwing knives into a plump pumpkin in front of the fire. As he flicked the last one, it flew past, burying itself in the burning hit logs, cracking red with sparks and dancing embers. 

The male pushed himself from his seat, stalking over to the fire and rummaging through the flames for his knife. Your eyebrows knitted together as you watched him manhandle to logs, digging around for his probably favored knife. 

He rose steadily, standing just as tall as you remembered, holding the knife in a fist full of fire. Your mouth went dry as the red curled up his arm, tendrils crawling up his arm, licking all the way to his shoulders. The breath was pulled from your lungs, but you forced down a gulp of air, blinking in disbelief. 

His eyes mirrored the glossy flames, wicked with pleasure. You almost hoped he smiled - smirked at the very least. Flashed that predatory smile that had your stomach fluttering. 

As he threw the fire, far off in the distance to some pile of wet leaves, extinguishing the fire by the time it met the foliage, you felt the air scraping past you. 

Fuck. 

You flapped your wings, big, slow, broad strokes that had you catching yourself as you dropped in altitude. You cursed yourself, knowing how your brother would chastise you - not only for being here, watching that particular male - but for becoming so distracted you nearly fell from the sky. 

With a few more powerful pushes, you lifted, raising only until you were far enough to go undetected. 

Or so you thought. 

Those red eyes lifted to the sky, a large pale hand drawn through his air in locks. 

His gaze met yours. 

Fuck fuck fuck. 

You turned immediately, rising even higher and building up speed to race home in record speed. Your heart was thumping even before you fully took off back toward Winter. 

Perhaps it was the fear of trespassing, or getting caught. It could have been the exhilaration running through your veins. Maybe the fact that you were fighting against all of your desires to drop down beside him.

You didn’t know Eris shared that last desire. 

_________________________

“You can’t keep me here!”

It was all you said - yelled - screeched - as you pushed through the front door, not caring that they rattled against the stone walls, nearly snapping at the hinges. Your steps were hard as you found yourself approaching the office, where you easily found Rhysand buried in a book, not bothered by your yelling or sudden intrusion. 

He had become so much like your father.

Buried in books, growing his power - for what, you didn’t know. You’d already given up on your hopes of claiming the throne, knowing that all the pushing your father had done to Rhys, for him to strengthen his powers, already promised him the apparent role. 

Your mother’s death hit the both of you too hard. Unprepared. Never having lost anything or anyone in your life. You stayed awake at night thinking of her, of her midnight black hair and soft wings. Of how she cared for you, running a hand down your back to lull you to sleep. 

You’d spent a few years apart from her, while she returned home to live in the cabin while Rhysand trained as a young male in the Illyrian Mountains. There, she tended to him and his newfound brothers. 

You remained in your father’s estate in the true Night Court, carved in the mountainside, swirling with darkness and shadows. Cold, hidden, alone. None of your mother’s kindness, not the smell of her homemade pies. Not your brother, play fighting with wooden swords or flying down the grand staircase. You only lived in Velaris when your mother was home. Without her, it was just you and the High Lord. 

A mother’s love for her son would always outweigh that of a father’s for his daughter. 

“Let me fly,” you seethed, having to hold yourself back from strangling him from across the desk. 

His eyes didn’t look up from where they were fixated on the book in front of him. His black hair curled over his forehead, nose buried in work. He reminded you so much of your father that it almost made you wince. “You can fly -”

“Outside. Of. Velaris.” Venom clinched each word as you spat through gritted teeth. 

He did sit back, though, against that broad wooden chair. His wings nowhere in sight. “It’s not safe for you beyond Velaris.”

For you. 

“I’m not one of your precious warriors you can order around. Or one of father’s caged subjects in the Court of Nightmares -”

Rhys almost smiled. “Why are you asking me for permission to fly, instead of him?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Because it was Azriel standing in my way, not any of the guards.” Then Rhys did smile, pleased with himself and his friend. Future spymaster of the Night Court, indeed. “Order him to stand down. I don’t need you - or him, for that matter - following me around.”

“It’s for your own protection,” he stated, dark eyes leveling yours. “What happened to mother -”

“It’s been years and don’t use that as some kind of excuse, Rhysand. You know as well as I do that keeping me here won’t fix anything.” Your eyes narrowed at him, as you stepped closer and stood over him, still sitting at the desk that reminded you so much of your fathers. 

Rhysand watched as you pivoted on your heel and left the study, wings flaring out behind you. “You’ll thank me someday.” It was all he called out to you as you stormed out - exactly what your father always said to you. 

Gods save whatever female ended up mated to him. 

It was easy to lock yourself in your room, skipping dinner without so much as an excuse to your father or brother. One of the wraiths came to your room with a tray of soup and meat, to which you turned her away, informing her that you’d like to spend the rest of the evening alone. 

You flopped yourself on your wide bed, dark sheets and plush blankets welcoming you home from the cold halls. Nothing had been the same since your mother died. Your father had become unhinged, burning his relationship with the Illyrians even further, torturing and working them harder than he ever had. Rhysand was blind to it, despite those two full-blooded warriors that hung around him. All the pain and suffering would be handled by Cassian once he was officially appointed as General. Azriel spent his days lurking around the court on behalf of the males in your family, offering secrets and tracking every movement. Every one of your movements, too, it seemed. 

When you were sure the rest of the estate was asleep, you threw your wide balcony doors open, curtains flailing on either side. The cold chill of night bit your flesh, and you opted to throw a slotted jacket on before you jumped off the cliff. 

Your wings splayed immediately, catching you on the stiff wind. You jerked up in the air, flapping your wings powerfully to build momentum. 

You had to cross the border. 

You raced against the wind, the cold air burning your lungs as you steadied your breath, building up stamina. Nearly out of breath from working against the winter air, you gritted your teeth, huffing out each breath. You cursed your brother, your father, everyone who was keeping you in the court. 

You slipped between the mountaintops, banking to dip low in the valley, flying through the shadows to escape. Luckily, you weren’t met with the shadow singer, who was waiting along the tree line earlier to bring you back to Rhys. Cassian wasn’t there either, bulky arms crossed in disappointment, despite the small smirk pulled at his lips. 

You soared close to the shimmering tree tops, shaking in the wind. Night blurred into Winter, the dreary landscape fell into a blanket of white, plush pillows of snow fell between the trees and stained the leaves. You longed to drop, to tuck your wings in and fall into the icy piles, to slide down the hills and lay in the snow. 

But the cold nipped at you, cascading through your hair and biting the tips of your ears. You soared far enough that the snow began to melt, disappearing towards the Autumn border. You continued toward the orange trees, the smell of fall spice and misty air. 

You dropped toward a clearing, boots hitting the stiff mud, cracking underneath your landing. You stretched your wings, twisting your back until you felt your vertebrae pop. With a few rolls of your shoulders, you turned on your heel, observing the surroundings. Mist curled around the tree trunks, moonlight bouncing off the water droplets. 

The smell of oak and cinnamon hit your nose, smoke and burning embers sending shivers down your spine. Despite being deep in the Autumn woods, you searched for the source - for who was wandering this forest with you. 

“Far from home?” The voice called, low and quiet. Your eyes caught the flash of red hair, as the male stepped out from behind a large tree trunk, emerging from the shadows. 

He approached slowly, one hand pressed against his abdomen, where his suit was fastened together with golden buttons, the other, small blade in hand, casually at his side. He stood taller than you - taller than your brother and all of his friends, too - you turned your neck up to meet his amber eyes. 

The darkness did not dim his light, the fire that danced in those eyes. His stark cheekbones grew more pronounced as he smiled, that same sly smirk that he’d given you years before in the Court of Nightmares. As his gaze raked over you, you were suddenly hyper-aware of your red stained cheeks and near frost-bitten ears. 

But Eris loved the sight of your cold stained skin - red was his favorite color, after all.

“Lost?” He continued, the blade twisting in his long fingers. 

You shook your head, turning your chin up higher, as if that would make you any taller, any less intimidated by the heir apparent. “Just out for a late night flight.”

He nodded, biting his lower lip, flashing his sharp white teeth.  “I don’t think we ever met, that night at the ball.” You nodded, hands running down your front to smooth out the winkles. “I’m Eris Vanserra.”

I know. 

“(Y/N),” you replied before cocking your head to the side. “Do you always greet your guests in such a welcoming manner?”

Your eyes flitted down to where he turned the knife in his hand, then back up to his eyes. He almost laughed, but instead huffed out a louder-than-normal breath. He pocketed the tool, flexing his fingers with a soft crack of his knuckles. “Caught me at the wrong time.”

“My apologies,” you breathed, daring yourself to look anywhere other than those alluring red eyes. “I just have always wanted to see the trees up close.” You turned your head up, glancing at the colorful leaves, darkened by the moonlight. 

Don’t expose your neck. 

Your brother’s voice rang in your head, the memory of him training you once many years ago. He’d demanded to show you how to defend yourself, should you end up in a situation like this one. 

Exactly like this one, actually.

How am I to make friends if I am to treat everyone as my enemy? 

He almost laughed at that - at your feigned innocence. You don’t need any more friends, was what he replied with. Especially ones outside of this court. 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the memory, instead kicking your feet at the piles of leaves, at the clumps of dirt littering the forest floor, now caked to the bottom of your boots. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, I can leave - ”

“No,” Eris interrupted, almost too quickly. He cursed himself inwardly, stopping himself from blurting out the next sentence that nearly rolled off his tongue. Instead, he took a breath before he continued. He gestured to dried tree stump with a base wider than your own wing-span. “Please join me.” 

You smiled, pointy ears perking up as you couldn’t help but cock a brow at the male. With all the warnings and stories from your brother and father about the Autumn male, you were sure they had to have fabricated the tall tales. Eris shoved his hands in his pockets nervously, waiting for your response. You didn’t try to hide the smirk, the pull at your lips as you chuckled, the jittery male about ready to jump out of his own skin. 

You nodded in thanks, gathering your skirts above your ankle to shift through the squishy dirt. You plopped down, huffing a breath of relief as you rolled your shoulders again, twisting your back, willing it to crack. Eris’s eyes traveled the length of your leathery wings, held high and folded nearly behind you. 

“Have you been carving pumpkins?” You asked, eyes drawn at the sliced rotting pumpkin and squash across the clearing. Seeds and stringy guts littered the ground, slashes and markings stabbed into the tough skin. 

He let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his red hair, curling through the end of his palm. “Letting out a little pent up stress,” he replied, fingertips brushing the heavy blade in his pocket, feeling the hot metal through the fabric of his pants. 

You raised your brows, and nodded in understanding. “I know how that goes.” Your eyes were stuck on the mess in front of you. 

Eris was a blur by your side, walking over to where you sat perched on the tree trunk. Again, he had to restrain himself from rushing over and plopping down next to you - just to smell the cool night on your skin, the flowery and loamy scent. In his palm, he held out the small dark blade, a sharp contrast against his pale skin. “Give it a go.”

He peered down at you, eyes soft, eyebrows raised in earnest, not preening down his nose at you, as the males in your household so often did. He wasn’t fully smiling, but you noticed how the corners of his pink lips turned up just enough in friendly greeting. 

As you took the knife, your fingers brushed against his palm, and the soft touch sent shivers down his spine. 

He blew out a shaky breath, thanking the Mother that his skin did not burn you. He lowered his hand and instinctively pulled the edges of his sleeves down, keeping the winding scars across his wrists hidden from view. “Not afraid of giving an Illyrian a blade?” 

Eris watched as you laughed slightly, perhaps just to break the tension. He couldn’t break the seriousness that had been beaten down his spine. “I’m not afraid of you.”

And in that moment, you felt seen. You felt the warmth of those red eyes in your soul, the heat that lurched in your stomach. His gaze washed over your face, taking in every feature, the red splotches on your cheeks and wind-blown hair, the arch of your brow and curve of your lips. He committed you to memory, in case he was never allowed the chance to be so close to you again. He wanted nothing more than to lean in closer, until your breaths twisted together in the air, until your smells merged into a sweet smoke or perhaps a laden copper. 

At last, his stare fell to your wings, the broad, black leather matte against the moonlight. You felt the blush crawl up your cheeks, an inadvertent dip of your head that had him dying to grab your face, to hold your cheek in his hand and tilt your head back up. “I like your wings,” he offered simply, slouching a bit and dropping his head, until you looked up to meet his eyes, then level with your own. “I like that you don’t hide them.”

Your breath nearly caught in your throat, heart stopping as he spoke. Did he know of Rhysand’s wings? Those he kept hidden from everyone outside of the Night Court. It had to be a guess. 

Your terror only filled half of you, though, as the other half glowed at his words, at his acknowledgement of your wings. The only thing that truly made you you. His eyes washed over them with grace, with a softness that you know would be mirrored in his touch, should he reach out to run his finger over them. The thought alone made your stomach twist. 

You smiled in thanks, twirling the knife in your hands, pulling yourself from the trance he held you in. His gaze was a storm of emotion, strong and swirling with the fire that danced in his veins. You had to snap yourself out of it, wholly unsure of what you’d do if you remained that close to him. 

Eris followed your lead, straightening and turning straight ahead, nodding his head toward the mess of vegetables in front of him. “Sometimes I need to get away from the noise,” he offered, unsure of where he was actually going with the story. 

“I hear you have another brother,” you replied, holding the knife just over your shoulder. “Congratulations to you and your family.”

Eris stifled a laugh - poorly. With a hum, he offered a quiet, reluctant thanks. 

You threw the knife straight ahead, letting out a satisfied breath as the sharp blade twirled from your fingers, launching straight ahead and landing in the harsh flesh. “I know the exact feeling.” You turned to catch Eris’s eye, displeasure laced across his features. “Though I suppose I only have one,” you added, trying to break the tension. 

The corner of his mouth lifted up, catching your sideways glance. “Is that what drove you to my cold woods in the dead of night?” 

You rolled your eyes, huffing out a sigh at the subject. “How obvious was it?” 

Eris shrugged. “I know family drama when I see it.” 

You met that with a firm nod. “He’s a little overbearing,” you offered, not wanting to get into the full argument, unsure of how trustworthy the male beside you really could be. 

“I noticed at the ball,” he replied. Eris knew of the bad blood between the two eldest heirs - hell, he was half of it. Despite the friendship - or the apparent camaraderie, at least - between their two fathers, Eris and Rhys had always held a certain animosity towards each other. 

“Yeah that’s part of it,” you said, kicking your legs out in front of you, the hem of your dress riddled with mud. “Sometimes I just need to get out.” You gestured to the open air, to the wide forest and vast expanse of trees surrounding you. “The Night Court can feel stuffy sometimes.”

Eris watched you, watched as those bright eyes shimmered under the moonlight, taking in the different colors and sounds around you. Eris had only been to your home court a few times, never had he been glad to cross the border, knowing he’d be met with nothing but darkness and despair. 

Since that night at the ball, though, he’d been itching to find an excuse to return. 

If only to be able to catch just a glance at you from across the room. 

“You didn’t stop by,” Eris said, seemingly out of the blue. “Last time you were here.”

You nearly choked. “Sorry for - I didn’t mean to…” you trailed off, trying - and failing - to buy yourself a minute to come up with an excuse. You didn’t think he actually saw you that day. Saw something, sure - a bird, maybe. But not you. 

Eris let out a low chuckle, a rumble deep in his chest that traveled through your bones, landing deep in your stomach. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He turned his head, the loose red curls shifting over his forehead as he moved. “I saw you flying, right before you sprang for the mountains.”

“I didn’t want to intrude,” you replied, wanting to shrink down and disappear. 

“Trespass,” he corrected, mostly joking. You smiled, eyes flitting over his every feature. The moon cast shadows along those cheekbones, casting a dark shadow over his neck, blocking the view of the delicate pale skin, tucked away behind a turtleneck. His dark brows raised, revealing his casualness.

“Trespass,” you repeated, testing the word. “I needed some time away from Night,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “It was the first fire I saw that day. And it was so gods-damned cold.”

He smiled. “Almost as cold as tonight.” 

He wanted so desperately to give you his jacket, to drape the heavy brown fabric over your shoulders, to see you in his court colors, his clothes. 

The air behind you stirred, a flash of cold that sent shivers down your spine. 

You would have turned to investigate, to see what had appeared behind you. You would have, had it not been for the shadows curling around your ankles. 

Before Eris could speak, before he could register the Shadowsinger in his Court, you cut him off. “Azriel.” It was more of a warning than anything else, ordering him to remain where he stood, to not take a step closer. 

Eris only stood, poised in front of the Illyrian. His knife was too far away, the one you’d thrown across the clearing into the makeshift target. You didn’t know about the one hidden in the waistband on his pressed pants, nor the larger one, buried in a pile of leaves just to your left. He was ready to jump, to wedge himself in between Rhysand’s dog and you, if need be. 

You stood, too, just a moment later, facing the black-haired male. “You didn’t need to come here.” 

You were surprised he responded, only having heard the male speak a few times, just around your brother. “You said you wouldn’t leave the court.” 

Your jaw set, watching as his expression did not change one bit. He didn’t offer you a blink, not a dip of the head or a raise of his brow. You turned to Eris, who was simply staring daggers at the Illyrian. “Eris, I - ” you cut yourself off, unsure of even what to say. 

But he would have bowed to you then and there just for you to repeat his name. 

He nodded toward you, then toward the Shadowsinger, no animosity towards each other, other than that by their mutual connection: Rhysand. Azriel, calmest of the three of the Illyrians, by far the most rational, waited for you where he had winnowed in, not moving except to flare his wings behind him. He knew he was in Eris’s Court, outside of his own territory. He was cautious to make a wrong move, to make any at all. He spread those large wings, taking up more space, intimidating and warning Eris to not take a step closer to you. 

“Thank you for stopping by.” It was all Eris said, the warm male you were speaking with just a moment ago, replaced with the cold courtier, diffusing the situation. He aligned much more with the Eris your brother had warned you about, perhaps playing the role since the Shadowsinger had shown up. 

Azriel waited until you stepped over the tree trunk you’d once been sitting on, for him to hold his hand out to you. You didn’t take it, instead stopping at his side and turning around once more to Eris. He stared at you firmly, not surprised, not shocked, not irritated at the other male for entering his woods. It simply was, and Eris could do nothing except escalate the situation. 

Azriel grabbed your forearm, not caring to warn you before winnowing out immediately. Eris held your gaze, his eyes not leaving yours until you were fully gone. His jaw set and head tilted back in a curse towards your brother, for sending his friend to take you home. 

You also cursed your brother, promising yourself that you’d berate him as soon as Azriel took you back to the Night Court estate. You’d spend the rest of your night wondering when - and how - you’d be able to see Eris again. Surely, you’d be able to come up with a plan, a time when you’d be able to visit him next. 

Eris spent the rest of the evening in the same way.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bad Idea, Right?

An Eris x Reader drabble

(Part 2) (Part 3)

Warnings: a bit smutty, language

“Your dad’s going to kill you.”

My head was pounding. This bed was so warm.

Last night was a blur.

Nyx, how many times do I have to request that you not intrude on my thoughts before 9 am.

“It’s almost noon, cousin.”

Shit!

Shit, cover for me! Please.

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

Right. I know. Cover for me anyway?

“One hour. Be here in one hour. You owe me.”

Don’t worry, Nyxie. I’ll cover for you the next time you visit the lovely daughter of Spring.

Slamming my mental shields up, I rolled over to the fiery lover next to me with a groan, “Get me out of this autumnal wasteland.”

“Good morning to you too, little one.” the redhead pressed against my backside grumbled.

I rolled over to smack his shoulder. “Gross, Eris. I’m the same age as Aunt Nesta when you proposed to her.”

Eris smirked. “She never called me daddy like you do.”

I let out a mirthful laugh, hoisting myself on top of him, straddling just below his rippled abdomen, “I’m never fucking you again.”

“You say that every time, dear.” Gripping his hands on my hips, groggy voice a whisper, “Yet somehow you keep falling back into my bed.”

Fuck. He was so hot.

I leaned down, pressing my breasts to his bare chest, face just an inch from his. “I can’t help that my shadows love how you beg.”

A growl escaped the back of his throat as my shadows restrained his wrists above his head. My gaze turned icy as I commanded, “Eyes on me, Eris.”

His only response a shift of his hips.

“Don’t fucking move.” I purred.

Nyx could keep the family off my back for a little longer.

[utterlyotterlyx]

Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅

Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3

I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.

Can't Keep My Hands To Myself

Modern!Eris x Reader

Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish

The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.

Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.

It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.

Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.

Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.

Possessive bastard.

You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.

You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.

Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.

So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.

Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.

It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.

The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.

Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."

"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."

"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.

"What if you-"

You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."

Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."

"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"

Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.

Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."

Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."

It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.

As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.

His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.

Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.

If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...

No, y/n.

Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.

Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.

Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.

If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.

Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"

It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.

"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.

"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.

Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"

"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.

Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

"I can't help it."

"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.

"Oh?"

Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."

"Eris..."

His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"

You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."

Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."

The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.

"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."

Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."

Authors Note

Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.

[fourteentrout]

"The Beholder" Azris Oneshot

Pairing: Azriel/Eris Vanserra

Word Count: 36,304

AO3 link

Description: Azriel and Eris both think the other is beyond gorgeous. The pinnacle of walking, talking perfection, the most attractive faerie to grace Prythian with their presence. After all, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. The only problem is, they spend too much time hating each other to actually do anything about it.

Hello hello Azris nation, guess who just posted his ridiculously long Azris slowburn oneshot that's literally just about how hot Azriel and Eris think the other is?

It's me, and I have the AO3 link and a preview here for your perusal! The fic does venture into some mature territory and does contain eventual smut, but I wasn't really sure what to rate it, so just consider this your warning. You can check it out using the link above or read the preview below!

It was almost ironic, Azriel thought, how easily he fell. Not in love, really. But something close to it. A winged beast somehow prone to tripping into endless depths of desires that could never be fulfilled. He was a spymaster and a torturer, and yet the minute he became fixated on someone, it became this prolonged, festering thing. Like a wound that refused to heal. He was forged to withstand the brutality of war, condemned to thrive in darkness, a being of sharp blades and black shadows. Yet the moment he grew attracted to someone, he felt like it was a physical, ever-burning brand that could be seen by all. A bright beacon of obvious weakness.

He loved his family, of course. He loved Mor in a different way for a very long time. He still wasn't entirely sure where she stood in his heart. But love was something that formed in him over the course of years, centuries. He was not worried about love. It was a diamond at his center, unbreakable, coated in layers upon layers of impenetrable steel. He no longer heard echoes of that incessant mantra pounded into his head for the first eleven years of his life. You are not worthy of having anything to love. 

Now, his love was a well-guarded choice. A distinct investment he made into those he cared about the most. It was simple, and strong, and he had forty nine years of throwing himself against Rhysand's protective wall of magic to prove it. He had hundreds of years of stepping back into the shadows while Mor invited strangers to her bed to prove it. She was…confusing, in that way. But his love for her was not. 

So no, he did not worry about love. This wasn't about love. It was about attraction. Infatuation, being enamored, having desire. A certain kind that went beyond his basic instincts to get carnal relief. 

That was the true weakness, what he felt was on display for everyone to see. That's what he always fell so easily into, wings ablaze the whole way down. The feeling of finding a missing piece of his soul, and the need to make it his own again. Yes, love could come of it. In theory. He supposed that's what happened with Mor. He first desired her like she was a part of himself that he'd lost, or that had been ripped away from him. Then she became one of the few people he allowed himself to love, and he fell into it as gracelessly as he fell into his initial infatuation with her. But his love and desire for her were often inseparable, a blurred mess of too-bright colors that didn't quite fit in with his shadowed life. His love kept him tethered to her, even when she pulled further and further away, even when his desire was almost completely obscured by mere obsession. 

He didn't know how to love anyone else for a very long time after that. 

And then along came Elain Archeron, emerging from her cocoon of bleak listlessness bit by bit every day. Every once in a while, in her fleeting moments of presence, he felt that spark of aching want, of all consuming need. It was small, but it was there. The glimmer of hope that perhaps Mor was not the end for him. That maybe one day he could love someone else the same way. But Elain was still so new to being Fae, still so lost to a world that she had never meant to be thrust into, like a flower waiting for the right time to bloom. So as soon as his hope flickered to life when he felt that desire, it was smothered until there was nothing left but bitter, sinking shame.  

It wasn't as if he'd ever deserve her love in return, anyway. Not from someone so pure as Elain, her skin kissed by dew drops, her fawn-soft eyes seeming to beg for safety. He would never give her what she needed, and she would never give him what he deserved. Not when she couldn't know him, what he was, what he did. She was too pliant, too bendable, and he suspected that she had too much love in her soul for him to take on. But it was never about what he could get in return. It was just always nice, in those fleeting moments of hope, to think that one day he could give that love to someone other than the female who'd been denying it for five hundred years. 

But love was easy to put aside when he was hit with these waves of incessant need. White-hot desire that left him feeling unstable and empty. Something much more urgent than just an itch in need of scratching, but something much less committed and unbreakable than love. With love, he just wanted someone to be there to accept it. With desire, he wanted to take. There was a certain lack of control over it that he particularly despised. Not just the fact that he always felt completely and utterly seen when it happened, but that he couldn't do anything about it...or who it happened with. 

It felt like a cruel trick when he felt that simmering fire of attraction burn along his veins at the meeting of the High Lords, of all places. 

Because who would ever want to desire the person they hated most?

[achaotichuman]

Eris Vanserra

Through a combination of spite and wanting to write out my feelings, I've created this slice of tragedy. Thank @fell-in-luvs for putting the idea in my head.

Trigger warnings- Domestic violence, physical abuse, mild thoughts of suicide, implied self-harm.

Head between his knees, hands over his ears. Just keep breathing. 

Porcelain smashed against the ground, and he heard her screaming. Just keep breathing. 

He yelled at her, voice reverberating through the hallways. 

She screamed at him, still young, still unknowing of what pain it would cause, to never raise his voice at her. 

Then she screamed, she screamed in pain and Eris sobbed into his knees. His small, red face, wet with tears. On wobbling knees, barely big enough to open the door he had been sitting beside, he reached up and pulled down the door handle. The glistening gold burning from fire leaping under his skin. The five-year-old threw the heavy wood open with all the strength in his body.

She was thrown across the wooden floors of the bedroom, crying so loudly as blood poured from her nose, and her eyes swelled from a bruise now blooming. Beron reeled his fist back, screaming at her disrespect, at her insolence. 

Eris screamed, the boy leapt at his father, flames sparking on his hands, “Stop!”

He hit his fathers legs as his lungs burned for air. The continuous chant of begging and demanding pouring from his hoarse throat, “Stop! Stop! Stop!”

Even with all the fire he found within himself, Beron grabbed his short red hair and threw him down to the ground. Eris cried as the air whooshed from his lungs, he gasped and gasped, but his throat refused to allow any oxygen within. 

“See what you’ve taught him, you fucking whore!” Beron screamed at his wife. 

She cried, arms trembling as they tried to lift her from the ground, but it was of no use as her husband descended upon her again. Fist pulling back, a scream and the cracking of bone as he met her jaw again and again. 

“Let her go! Let her go!” Eris shrieked. A bruise appeared on his face as a red mark. He was shaking until it was so hard to so much as walk, he tried to rush at Beron again. But the male pulled up a wall of fire that scorched Eris’s hands and face. 

Eris screamed and threw up across the floors. Darkness edged in his vision and he looked up to see the image of his mother, bawling as she bleed and bleed. She begged and pleaded, but Beron’s hand wasn’t merciful. 

“Stop it! Please stop it!” Eris cried from the floor. 

He remembered the light of the moon from that night. How it shone in through the large glass windows, all shut and locked. He remembered how it shimmered across his mother’s blood smeared across the floor. 

Eris blinked the images away, forcing his eyes back to what he was seeing. His mother stared into her food, hands neatly folded in her lap. Beron howled with laughter, and the sudden laugh caused both to flinch suddenly. Though Eris’ was far less noticeable. 

With no eyes on them, with every courtier at the dining hall preoccupied with sucking up to Beron. No one at any particular spot, as the formalities had been forgotten after the thirteenth bottle of wine had been opened. 

Eris reached out, hands gentle and calloused, they just managed to brush the back of his mother’s hand. The six-year-old that begged for his father’s hands to keep off his mother’s skin peeking through. 

But this was no longer the woman that remembered her own will. This was no longer the woman who braided flowers into his hair at celebrations, and she was no longer the woman who patched his knees when he fell off his horse. 

She pulled away from his fingers so abruptly a nearby lady looked over. Quickly her eyes turned back to Beron’s sneering grin. 

“Mother-” The word slipped from his throat before he could stop it. 

“You’re just like him.” His mother hissed. 

Eris stared. 

Not one of his father’s hits, not one of his words, or training, had ever…

Punched him as hard as that. 

“Mother-” His voice cracked, breathing was hard again. 

He was back on the floor, without air in his lungs, he was back in that bedroom. He saw her behind that wall of fire again. 

“You are just like him.” She said again.

Her flaming russet eyes looked up to see him. They burned. They burned with a hatred so bright, Eris flinched again. 

Those words held words, words that stung more than ones she actually voiced. ‘Go on, tell him I am willing to defy you.’

“Please-”

He wanted to sob. He wanted to run into the arms of his mother in a field of grass under the protection of oaks and Autumn leaves. He wanted her to look at him and smile. 

‘Please.’

‘Please, I’m still your baby boy, aren’t I?’ 

“Please-” 

“I hate you.”

Beron standing over her, tears streaming down her face as she cried and begged.

Eris felt his father’s leg underneath his hands again as he tried to burn the male. 

I hate you. 

You’re just like him. 

Just like him. Just like him. Just like him. Just like him. 

“Eris!” Beron boomed. Eris’ head snapped up and his face fell into the mask of false respect and bitter smirks.

“Yes, Father?” The words had the slightest of shakes to them. Not enough that anyone noticed. No one would ever notice. 

“Come join the head of the table, my boy! Lord Entrice has some news to share.” Beron had such a sadistic glint in his eyes. 

Run, every bone in his body said so. He didn’t feel safe. He wasn’t safe. He was never safe. 

Eris stood and beside him, his mother huffed a laugh. His eyes snapped to her once again, and there she stared at the meal before her, but he saw her hating eyes, and her smirk, ‘Go suck up to him.’ Was what that smirk said. 

She didn’t dare lift her head to meet his eyes. Beron called again, voice beginning to border on agitated. 

Just like him. 

“Yes, Father.” Eris answered. 

When Eris retreated to his quarters that night, he saw nothing. He felt nothing. Like his whole body was on another plane. His soul retreated to some small corner where it heard nothing. Like a child putting their hands over their ears and chanting ‘Lalalala I can’t hear you’.

He didn’t remember when he locked the door, he didn’t remember when he bathed or changed, or sat down beside the fire. He didn’t know why he was sitting on the floor and not on the lounge. He didn’t know why he was sitting so close to the flames, and he didn’t know why he was staring into them without ever looking away. 

Just like him. 

You’re just like him. 

A smile curved on his face, even as tears welled in his eyes. 

I hate you. 

Then what’s left?

Lucien was gone. 

His other brothers refused his help. 

If his mother hated him?

What was left? 

The rest of the Autumn Court, a logical voice told him, trying to pull him back from the edge. The rest of the Autumn Court would need him one day, he would have to be living for that. 

The Autumn Court had survived this long, was he that necessary? 

To improve their lives he was. 

Was he? 

Just like him. 

He was just like him. 

Eris didn’t remember taking a knife in his hands, and he didn’t remember holding it over the fire. 

But he did remember the pricks of the blade over his arms. And he did remember the marks it left. 

Just like him. 

I hate you. 

What was left?

[lilac-witch]

Main Masterlist

ACOTAR

Azriel Masterlist

Cassian Masterlist

Rhysand Masterlist

Helion Masterlist

Eris Vanserra Masterlist

Crescent City

Ruhn Danaan Masterlist

Hunt Athalar Masterlist

[dawneternal]

constructive criticism welcome but pls be kind

🩷 - fluff

❤️‍🔥 - smut

💔 - angst

🌈 - queer

If you want on or off a taglist just let me know

✎ Take the World in Your Hands🩷❤️‍🔥💔

Eris x Elain crackship, 12 parts, completed

✎ Just a Favor🩷❤️‍🔥

Gwyn x Azriel, ongoing

✎ The Only Exception 🩷💔

Gwyn x Azriel, Modern AU, ongoing

✎ Hespera 🩷💔

A collection dedicated to Rhysand's little sister, ongoing

✎ The Benevolent 🩷❤️‍🔥💔

Eris x Dawn Court Healer OC, ongoing

✎ A Wild Thing 🩷❤️‍🔥💔

Elain x Lucien

✎ I Have Loved You for the Last Time 💔🌈

Sad Eris Vanserra oneshot.

✎ A Court of Mischief and Matchmaking 🩷

The inner circle plays spin the bottle

✎ Starfall Guest 🩷💔

Starfall week 2024 submission | Azriel x OC

✎ And Yesterday You Were Here With Me

Azriel x Reader, grief/mourning. Check warnings before reading.

✎ A Duckling and a Beast 🩷

Fluffy one shot about Tamlin as a dad

✎ Yes, Valkyrie ❤️‍🔥

A smutty Gwynriel one shot

[milswrites]

Stubborn Little Fox

~ Eris Vanserra X Reader

Summary: Eris struggles to look after his stubborn mate when you are sick.

Warnings: Poorly reader but it’s pretty much fluff. Maybe some suggestiveness.

Notes: Just a silly little fic to tide you over until I finish the angst I’m writing. Dedicated to @sarawritestories who wrote me this exact scenario in an attempt to get me to stop writing and go to bed 😌

Your bed was empty.

Again. 

The wrinkled covers pulled back to reveal the bare sheets of where you had once laid, where Eris was supposed find you soundly sleeping upon entering the room.

The Autumn Prince cursed lowly under his breath, knuckles turning white with frustration as he tightly gripped onto the tray of food he had prepared for you.

It was easier to control his hounds - Eris thought as he carefully placed the tray down on the edge of the bed, lest he toss its contents onto the floor in his anger.

Eris was used to completing impossible jobs, and yet nothing has been more difficult than trying to wrangle his sick mate and convince you to sleep away your illness. Your inability to sit still making caring for you harder than Eris had initially anticipated.

He needn’t try too hard to find you, a swift wander down the hall and to his office was all Eris needed to walk before he opened the door to find your sickly form hunched over his desk with a pen in hand. Scribbling away at whatever documents had been left for you once you had recovered.

It was impossible to stop the exasperated sigh which fell from his lips as he took in the paleness of your face and the worrying sheen of sweat which had coated it.

“And why, pray tell me, aren’t you in bed where you’re supposed to be Little Fox?” Eris snarled, all comfort forgotten as he once more found himself trying to coax you back towards your bed.

With shaking hands you reluctantly place your pen down, guilty eyes meeting the burning stare of your mates unforgiving glare. “I’ve got work to finish!” You defend, gesturing to the stack of paperwork which had only grown during your absence from your job.

At your excuse, the red-haired male inhaled deeply, a disbelieving hand coming to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. And it wasn’t until Eris exhaled his frustrations that he allowed himself to reply as softly as he could, “work can wait until you’re feeling better.”

“It can’t,” you reason, a disappointed sigh drawing from your sickly lips, “I’m far enough behind as it is. Another day without work and I’ll never be able to catch up. Besides, I’m fine. I feel much better now.”

Whilst Eris prided himself on holding back the roll of his eyes which threatened to occur, he failed to stop the raise of his brow as you proceeded to burst into a fit of coughs after your weak-willed reassurances.

“All better?” He mused, a small smirk finding its home on his lips as he watched you pitifully try to compose yourself. Innocent eyes meeting his own as your incessant coughing eventually came to a halt.

“I have to say Little Fox, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you like going against my orders” Eris chided, slowly walking towards you as he spoke. Each step forward drawing you deeper into his hypnotic trance. “Would I be correct in assuming you keep leaving your bed because you want me to scold you?” He asks teasingly, bringing his face down to meet yours, until his playful eyes were level with your own.

“I can’t say I’d hate it if you had to take care of me” you replied honestly, unable to help the way your gaze drifted towards your mates slightly parted lips.

“Is that not what I’ve been doing all this time?” Eris feigns hurt which fails to read through his wicked smile, “Taking care of my mate?”

“I can think of a few more ways I’d like to be taken care of” you answer, hoping to be seductive but ultimately failing as another round of coughs wrack your chest.

“Later” Eris chuckled, his strong arms coming to lift you from where you were sat, “for now you need sleep.”

You furrow your brows in protest, opening your mouth to argue with your mate before he beat you to it. Eris’s soothing voice acting to calm you, “Don’t worry, I’m going to have to cuddle you just to make sure you don’t run off anywhere else.”

Eris’s warm lips came to meet your aching forehead, his kiss already working to dissipate the uncomfortable pulsating of your sore temples. Your mates healing touch enough to already have you drifting off in his comforting embrace.

“My stubborn Little Fox,” he uttered as he began to move back towards the bedroom which you shared, cradling you close to his body in hope that the heat which he emitted would soothe your aching joints, “you better feel well again soon, I’ll be waiting to deliver your punishment for disobeying me.”

You hum happily in response, nuzzling your face into his warm chest to hide your smirk of anticipation, “I’m looking forward to it, My Prince.”

It was only once you woke, when your fever had broken and the ache in your muscles had quelled, that you noticed that Eris was no longer holding you. That it was his turn to escape the comfortable confines of your sheets which had now grown cold in his absence.

Stepping out from the warmth of your covers, you walked barefoot across the cold wooden floors. Seeking the ever-lasting warmth of your mate. You followed the call, moving through the hall until you found yourself outside his office, the strong scent of crackling wood and chestnuts enough to tell you the male was waiting inside.

Cracking open the door you peered inside, noting the way Eris was slumped over the freshly inked papers you had saved to work on when your health had improved.

Your mate - your selfless, loving mate - had completed them all. No doubt seeking to ease your worries and provide you with the extra hours of rest you would no doubt need once you had woken.

Quietly pulling the door to, you move to the kitchen to prepare your love a warming tea. Because as much as Eris longed to take care of those he loved so dearly, sometimes what he needed was for someone to take care of him in return.

[thewulf]

Hi my love,

I’ve recently stumbled upon your ACOTAR fics, and I absolutely love the mini verses you’re creating, especially Rhys’ fic Hidden Away! I’ve seen you write up some requests, and if you are open to it, I would love to submit my own.

I know there aren’t many Eris fics out there, especially ones that dive deeper into his unexplored character, so I was wondering if you could write one?

In my head, Eris is the same stoic, narcissistic male we meet in the books. His last dispute with the Night Court leave Rhys ordering Azriel to spy on him and his affairs.

Nothing seems out of place, but then Azriel and his shadows pick up on a few things: Beron’s maltreatment, Eris’ relationship with his brothers, moments of vulnerability with the Lady of Autumn…but perhaps the biggest surprise is Eris’ late disappearances that are seemingly untraceable.

One day, Eris gets sloppy though, so Azriel is easily able to track him. Maybe the IC follows along, thinking he’s planning something. What they don’t realize is that Eris is hiding away his mate—pregnant mate, who has just gone into labor.

Between fearing for his mate and child and the Night Court’s sudden appearance, Eris’ emotions flare. And maybe, this is when Rhys offers him a Bargain that he will aid him in disposing of Beron and protect his family in exchange for his allegiance.

You are free to amend at your will in case you do decide to write it.

Thank you so much in advance for all the wonderful pieces you’re producing on here♥️

Shut up this request is SO good!! You guys are literally so freaking creative I'm blown awayyy!

YES! I can absolutely write this. Eris gives Rhysand from the first ACOTAR book. Putting on a front to look like an ass because he HAS to. He has no other choice or it's his life on the line. We'll make reader the hidden away mate. I kinda want her to be hiding in another court Day or Dawn maybe :) I'm leaning towards Dawn because we don't know much about it and Thesan.

This is going to be a long one (i know myself) so give me a few days to get this one out!

[the-darkestminds]

Desolate Autumn 🍂

Eris refuses his father's order to kill Lucien's lover, Jesminda, and faces severe punishment. Lucien flees the Autumn Court.

In canon, Eris states that he wasn’t present for the execution. I explored what it might have been like if he had been there. I can’t stop making my fave Vanserra brothers suffer. 😭

🍁 Eris & Lucien POV 🍁

Can also be found on ao3 here!

Hope you guys enjoy 🥹 eternally grateful to anyone who chooses to read it all the way through 🫶

——————————————————————————

Eris

Eris had long since learned to dread being summoned to his father’s throne room. He had only unpleasant memories of the place, and chose to avoid it as often as he could. As the eldest son of Autumn, that was not often enough. His footsteps echoed off the marble beneath him as he made his way through the Forest House. His mind was consumed with thoughts of last night’s patrol, the sentry who had been reported missing near Winter’s border without explanation. Eris pondered the problem as he turned the corner and the grand entrance to the throne room came into view. The arched hall was decorated with intricate carvings of golden vines, interspersed with rubies that sparkled in the afternoon light. He had always held the belief that the beauty of the Autumn Court was in stark contrast to the ugliness of the people who called it home.

Eris’s steps faltered as he entered the throne room, the scene unfolding before him. Lucien, a gag of fire between his lips, was restrained by his brothers, Jasper and Orson. He struggled against the grip they each had on his arms. A lesser faerie female was bound and on her knees before his father. Tears streamed down her face as she turned her pleading eyes towards Eris.

He stopped abruptly, his stomach sinking as understanding dawned on him as to why he had been called here. What he might be required to witness. He glanced around the room taking note of his father’s loyal sentries standing watch along the walls. His other brothers, Alix, Arden and Conall stood to the side with knowing smirks on their smug faces. Mercifully, his mother’s chair sat empty beside his father’s throne. At least she would not be here to bear witness to whatever horror was soon to unfold.

“You called?” Eris forced himself to say with a drawl. He flicked an invisible piece of lint from the lapel of his emerald green jacket. He kept his face cool and indifferent—it had become a near-permanent mask, here in his father’s court of snakes.

“Eris.” Beron’s voice thundered through the room. “We were just about to begin.” Jasper and Orson turned at his name, and both gave him a slight nod before quickly averting their eyes.

“Oh?” Eris glanced at Lucien once more, who thrashed against his brothers like a wildcat caught in a trap. His russet eyes so wide and pained as they met Eris’s from across the room. The band of fire around his mouth prevented him from speaking beyond frantic grunts and moans. Eris slid the practiced smirk on his face and tried to disguise the slight tremor in his hands as he clasped them behind his back. He tried to think of something he could say to prevent the impending violence, but his mind came up blank.

“Lucien here thinks to sully himself by marrying a lesser fae whore. He has deluded himself into believing she is a worthy match for a High Lord’s son,” Beron spat, his lip curling as he snarled in Lucien’s direction. Beron met Eris’s gaze once more and smiled viciously. “You shall eliminate the problem for me, Eris.” Beron delivered a swift and brutal kick to the female’s ribs and she curved in on herself with a pained cry. Lucien screamed.

“I am sure Lucien will come to see reason, eventually.” His smile was cold and harsh as he looked down at his youngest son.

Eris started at the command. That Beron would truly have Lucien’s lover executed in front of him…He was well acquainted with his father’s penchant for violence, but this seemed uniquely cruel, even for him. Eris knew he’d been stupid to hope his presence had been requested merely to oversee courtly business, or to deal with his ever-scheming younger brothers, always at each other’s throats. But an execution? To be carried out by Eris himself?

“No.” Eris’s heart raced. He had never once uttered that word to his father. Had not once, in his long life, disobeyed a direct order. The silence that followed was deafening. Beron jerked around at the outright refusal. His brothers gaped at him.

“What did you say to me, boy?” Beron seethed. The rage on his face was enough to send lesser males running. But Eris held his ground. He would not cross this line—would not be the one to break Lucien so thoroughly, so ruthlessly, that he might never recover from the pain and loss.

“I will play no part in this,” Eris shrugged. He fought to keep his tone measured and aloof despite the storm raging inside of him. His gut churned at the slight glint of hope he spied in Lucien’s eyes. Eris hated to give him that hope—knew that Beron would see this done with or without Eris’s involvement. Beron glared at him, and Eris held his gaze. Let it wash over him in all its fury. Seconds, maybe minutes, passed in silence. Then—

“Get out. I’ll deal with you later,” Beron sneered. Eris turned to leave and Lucien began screaming in earnest then, struggling wildly against Jasper and Orson as his other three brothers looked on with varying degrees of amusement. He screamed as if Eris had been his final hope—had come to save him from this hell he was now trapped in.

It cut Eris deep—to turn his back on Lucien and walk away. To burn that remaining sliver of hope to ash. When he reached the throne room doors, he heard his father unsheath the blade. Heard the sobs of the female on the floor. Heard as Lucien, the gag now removed, begged, “Jesminda! NO, FATHER, PLEASE! PLEASE!” And as Eris stepped into the hallway, he cringed at the wet thud that sounded as Jesminda’s head toppled to the floor, his stomach lurching in response. Lucien’s agonized shrieks rang loudly in his ears and he felt his heart splinter in two.

Eris barely made it to his chambers before he was violently sick upon the patterned carpet. With a wave of his hand he winnowed the mess away and stumbled towards the oak desk in the corner of his opulent rooms, eyes and throat burning. He had only minutes to see this through. Prayed that he was correct in thinking Beron would want Lucien to suffer for at least several days before finally ending it. Ending him. Eris found a spare bit of parchment and began hastily scrawling the urgent message to the High Lord of Spring. He did not sign it nor leave any indication of who it was from. The message vanished in a puff of smoke. He grabbed a second page, his handwriting sloppier with each frantic word he wrote. Just as the second note disappeared, there was a loud pounding on his chamber doors.

Eris knew what was coming then. He steeled himself as he opened the heavy wooden door, revealing four of his father’s most trusted guards. He did not ask them to explain themselves. Eris merely raised his chin, stepped into the hall, and closed the door behind him. His heart pounded with every step he took as the guards led him down, down, down into the coldest depths of the sprawling Forest House. Eris tried to clear his mind, tried to remain calm as they arrived in the frigid dungeons. With a deep breath in, he let himself be guided into the familiar cell. It had been worth it, he told himself. He prayed he was right.

Lucien

Lucien stirred. The first things he heard were the low cooing of a morning dove, the steady trickle of a fountain. A warm breeze that smelled of spring wrapped itself gently around him. And then he felt a throbbing pain in the back of his head. His eyes remained closed. Suddenly, memories came flooding back to him in a violent rush. Jesminda, executed by his father, the unlocked cell door, fleeing through the forest, Orson dead by his blade, and Tamlin, Jasper—The scenes flashed in his mind.

Lucien was dragged to an empty cell near the stables outside and tossed roughly to the ground. No better than a caged animal. He sat numbly in the cold, hard dirt, trying to block out the memory of Jesminda’s cries, her pleas to his father, to him, to spare her. The sound of the blade withdrawn from its sheath. The glint as his own father angled the sword back, and—The opening of the cell door shook him from his thoughts. A plate of stale bread and water was placed on the ground. As the unfamiliar sentry left, Lucien did not hear the click of the lock sliding back into place. He rose and made his way to the door on silent feet. Unlocked. He glanced down. There upon the plate, concealed beside the bread, was a dagger. He did not question his luck. He palmed the dagger and opened the door.

And then he was running. Barreling through the brisk Autumn forest. Red and gold and orange streaked by him as he sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him south. His chest heaved with every step, until he tasted blood on his tongue and his lungs burned painfully. He could hear his brothers in pursuit of him, crashing through the branches and leaves scattered about the damp forest floor. They were close–their taunting jeers sounded loudly in his ears. He blocked out their words, pushed himself to run harder and faster. The air began to warm, and the reds and golds blossomed into greens and pinks and—a deafening roar cleaved the land. Tamlin. Dumb luck, or perhaps fate, that he was here when Lucien needed him most.

The beast appeared before him in a flash of fur and sharp fangs. Lucien ducked quickly and he heard the squelch of claws stabbed through flesh. Heard Jasper howl in pain. Lucien whirled as he brought his dagger up, just as Orson slashed his axe down upon his head. Lucien twisted at the last second to dodge what was surely a death blow. A wall of flame rose up between them. He let his sorrow and rage fuel him as he pushed that fire outward towards Orson. His brother roared in pain as the white-hot fire lanced his exposed side. Arden stepped up and met Lucien’s flame with a flare of his own. Metal and fire blasted and collided. And then Lucien was moving again, twisting low, angling that dagger upwards—steel met skin as the blade sunk deep into Arden’s throat. He choked, blood gurgling from his gaping mouth, and then collapsed. Dead.

It happened too fast. Lucien heard Tamlin roar in warning—he made to turn, but wasn’t quick enough to avoid the blunt edge of the axe that clobbered him in the back of the head. A flash of pain—and then darkness swallowed him whole.

Lucien was fully awake now. He cracked his eyes open against the soft light. Tamlin sat in a wooden chair to his left, a grim expression on his handsome face as he gazed back at Lucien.

Jesminda. No—Jesminda…she was dead. Murdered, as he watched uselessly. Lucien squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the image of her head rolling across the floor. He tried to breathe but the air was trapped in his lungs. He was suffocating, gasping for breath, choking on the pain that wrapped itself around his heart. Lucien wept.

Soon his body was shaking with the force of his sobs, and an agonized moan crawled its way out of his throat. He heard screaming—excruciating, gut-wrenching screaming, and realized it was coming from his own lips. He tore at his long hair, attempted to peel the flesh from his bones so he might not be forced to live within his own skin. He wished he were dead—tried to smother himself in flame and burn away the remaining scraps of his withered soul. Strong, callused hands stopped him before he could do any damage. He thrashed and fought against them—wished those hands would grow claws once more and lodge themselves deep inside his chest. But instead, they gripped him firmly, an anchor to the world he so desperately wished to leave. Tamlin said nothing as he held Lucien tightly. Lucien could smell the salt of his own tears and felt like his heart had been cleaved in two. The pain was unbearable—he begged for someone, anyone, to end him. He sunk deeper into despair—let it drag him down, down, down, until he was drowning in it. He sank deeper still, where the screaming was quieter. Until he heard nothing but the frantic beat of his own wretched, cowardly heart.

Eris

It was not the first time Eris had found himself locked in the darkened chamber beneath the palace. His knees dug into the cold stone of the dungeon floor, his hands bound to each side at an uncomfortable angle. The restraints dug painfully into his wrists as he clenched his hands against the numbness that had slowly taken hold since he’d been chained up the evening prior. His ears strained to pick up any sounds outside the room, but all he could hear was the quiet trickle of water on the slick stone walls. Eris tried and failed not to let his mind wander to thoughts of Lucien’s escape, whether he had made it to Spring unharmed, if Tamlin had received his warning to haul ass to his northern border and await Lucien’s arrival. Eris prayed the note had reached him in time. That the second note had found its way into the correct hands. Before he could truly spiral, he heard several sets of footsteps growing louder in their approach.

Eris’s heart began to race as he heard the door swing open, those footsteps echoing off the cell’s damp walls. His father’s face appeared before him and rage glowed in his muddy brown eyes.

“You’ll be pleased to know your traitorous brother made it beyond Spring’s borders. With two of your own brothers killed in the fight,” Beron snarled at him. Eris said nothing–waited for the guilt to come. Instead, he felt relief. Brothers they might be, he held no true affection for the lot of them, save for Lucien. He wondered who had landed the killing blows. He hoped it had been Tamlin, so as to spare Lucien from further violence. He knew his brothers had been following orders, but they had always done so with such glee, seeming to enjoy the pain they inflicted on their father’s behalf. Eris did not ask who, specifically, had been killed. He did not want to know.

Sharp pain lanced across his face as Beron struck him once, twice. A punch to his gut stole the air from his lungs. He could taste the coppery tang of blood on his tongue.

“What will it take for you to learn that you are only useful to me if you obey?” Beron mused. Eris said nothing, gritting his teeth against the rage that coursed through him. He had never denied his father anything, save this. He was as loyal and obedient as his favored hounds. A dog to command. His father glared down at him a beat longer, a cruel smile forming on his lips. Beron jerked his head to someone behind him and Eris heard the familiar clink of a weapon being removed from a belt chain. He glanced briefly over his shoulder to confirm his suspicions.

Though he had long since learned how to pace himself, to weather the pain, it did not stop the dread from pooling in his stomach as his father’s sentry unfurled the whip at his side. Eris faced forward once more, began tunneling deep down within so as to hide from the pain of what was to come. Cold sweat started to bead on his forehead as one of the guards stepped forward and tore Eris's shirt, exposing his back to the chilled air. He braced himself against the searing sting of the whip against his flesh, but it did little to lessen the blow as the leather slashed through the skin on his back. He grunted at the pain that sliced through him, but swallowed the scream in his throat.

“Again,” Beron commanded.

The whip cracked again, and Eris jerked, hissing through his teeth. He did not regret refusing his father’s order to kill the female. Jesminda, Lucien had screamed. His long life had taught him that doing his father’s bidding served him far better than rebelling ever would. But this—what had been done in that wretched throne room—Eris was right to take no part in it. He could still hear the sound of the female’s head as it tumbled to the floor with a wet thump. Could still hear Lucien’s agonized cry as he was forced to watch. No—he did not regret it. Only that he hadn’t been able to stop it.

Again and again, the whip tore into his ruined back, retracing scars from previous punishments. Eris arched against the agony, panting through clenched teeth. He felt the blood dripping down his sides, along with a sharp throb of pain with each beat of his shredded heart.

The whip cracked again, tearing his skin down to the bone, and Eris finally screamed. He heard the sentry step back and sagged slightly against the chains. Beron gripped Eris’s chin roughly and forced him to meet his eyes.

“Consider this a warning, boy, should you think to disobey me again. Next time I'll have your head. Or perhaps I'll allow one of your remaining brothers the pleasure of ending you.” His father released him and strode out of the chamber.

Eris hung there, limply, his body trembling from the pain. He choked down the sob building in his chest, hating his father, his brothers, his life. Himself. The magnitude of his misery, his loneliness, washed over him in waves.

He should have been accustomed to it by now—the punishments, the beatings. Eris had spent much of his time growing up trying to protect his brothers, Lucien especially, from his father’s wrath. He had shielded them as much as he could, often taking the brunt of it himself. He had loved Lucien dearly, and still did. But that love terrified Eris to no end. He had quickly learned that caring for anyone in his father’s court was a weakness. That those he loved would soon be turned into weapons to be wielded against him. So Eris had shut Lucien out—treated him like trash until he was sure Lucien despised him, as he did the rest of their brothers. It hurt Eris—to see the warmth slowly disappear from Lucien’s gaze whenever their eyes met, day by day, until none remained. But it had been worth it if it kept the full force of Beron’s rage focused elsewhere, for a time.

The sentries, momentarily forgotten, shuffled forward and unclasped the chains encasing Eris’s wrists. He slumped forward, his arms too numb to catch himself as he face-planted on the hard stones with a grunt. Neither male addressed him as they exited the cell, though they left the door open. He was free to leave, it would seem. Yet he remained facedown on the ground, his hands tingling as they slowly regained feeling. A single tear traced a path down Eris’s cheek, mingling with the blood pooled beneath him. He breathed deeply, the musty air thick in his lungs. Seconds, minutes, hours later, perhaps, he finally rose, his back screaming in protest as he pushed himself up from the floor.

It would not do to dwell on things he could never have. He was a pathetic fool to even let himself consider what it might be like to see their friendship restored. To have Lucien once again look at him with admiration and light in his eyes. As Eris slowly limped out of the chamber, he swore to himself he would never show such weakness again. Lucien had made it to Spring safely. Eris didn’t let himself consider the emotional state he might be in. He was safe. It was enough.

[unanswered-stars]

How did I only have two WIP last week and now I have 7?

What did I do…

Good news is my next chapter for Shadows of Regret and Redemption is 2/3 written so should be up in the next few days

My next fic will still be the continuation of @the-moth-writes Heaven Help the Fool Who Falls in Love this is my precious baby and I love it so much. So excited to share this one with you guys once I finish SoR&R

Tags have some hints at what my new WIP will involve when I have time to write them fully

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Alright, everyone! I’m about to start on my next ACOTAR x Taylor Swift inspired one shot for…

Champagne Problems! What #angst pair up would you like for this one?

[utterlyotterlyx]

4 and/or 25 with Eris, please!

Lost In The Fire

Eris x Fem!Reader

Warnings - mentions of arranged marriage, suggestive comments, lots of fluff

(not spell checked sorry x)

What if you - If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you. Don't leave me here alone.

Balls had never been, nor ever would be, your thing.

The opulence that came with them was sickening, a waste of precious resources that could be put toward something more beneficial. The gold on display, the mountains of food that hardly anyone would touch that sat as a putrid reminder of power and wealth, and the stench of ale made your stomach churn with distaste.

You would forever curse your brother, Thesan, for giving you over to the Autumn Court, you understood that you had a duty to fulfil, and since you were the sister of one of the more liberal courts, with unmatched spiritual abilities, it meant that you were a high prize indeed.

You had long lost your usual clothing, red and gold loose fitting robes that still had the power to accentuate every feature you held lay dormant in your wardrobe and had been swapped out for tighter fitting garments in an arrangement of greens and browns and oranges. By order of Lady Autumn, of course.

There would be a day when her title would belong to you, and you always had to look the part.

It was a part you played well.

Marriage to Eris, the Heir of the Autumn Court, wasn't nearly as bad as you had expected it to be. It was lucky that your talents in spirituality were so advanced, and you were also lucky that his knowledge of your gifts was so little when you had first met.

Despite his cold exterior, you saw a small boy within him wanting more than anything to break free from the chains that bound him to his position. It was his only defence against his father. But, he knew that you could see through it, see through him in a way that no one else could and part of him was relieved to finally have someone who could understand him.

Things were still rocky, you struggled with their way of life, something Beron despised and spoke of frequently, saying he did not want you leading his court if you couldn't bend your morals and do what was needed. If turning your back on the people who needed you was too stiff, then you didn't want to be leading his court anyway.

But everything with Eris was good, more than good actually, you had actually come to care for him beyond the requirements of your marriage. Eris had moved your rooms opposite his own to have you closer to him, to have you speak him into newfound calm when his duties became too much; to have you closer to him so that he could soothe your clairvoyant episodes that pounced on you from nowhere.

It was meant to be a marriage of convenience, a marriage to forge new power and bonds and produce a litter of children who possessed both of your abilities. A new path for Autumn, a stronger path.

The clouds darkened on the horizon, the moon poked through their curls and illuminated them with a faint pale blue glow. Lanterns lined the garden paths below your window, Eris had made sure to give you the room with the best view, and you watched idly as high born nobles and invited guests to the nights festivities strolled down the cobbled stone paths arm in arm, pointing at the array of intricately carved white marble statues and fountains littered across the lawns, scattered between the hedges and lush flowerbeds.

Ladies swarmed you, tugging at your limbs and shimmying skirts up your legs before huffing and ripping them down again, tapping your calves to tell you to lift your feet so that they could try the next one. Lady Autumn ordered that racks upon racks of opulent dresses be wheeled into your chambers, it was important that you look your best in front of all of the nobles attending that evening, from Autumn and those from other courts.

Even Beron knew how powerful your opinion was to others, not like he would ever listen to it himself. You had been the one to accompany your brother to the High Lords meeting to find a path forward against Hybern. It was your grace and elegance that kept the meeting from boiling over since you were able to feel the emotions of others and force them to simmer down before they consumed the room. It was you who had been able to tell them all of Hyberns movements which no doubt gave them the edge they needed. It was you who saved dozens upon dozens of soldiers from all courts.

You had been the one to help Feyre with the complications with her pregnancy, you had been there for the birth of her son and had given a kernel of your own gift to keep her alive; it made you a very trusted ally to the Night Court, a friend. Helion wrote to you often asking for you opinions on research and inventions, even went as far as to ask for your input on some new policies he wanted to introduce to Day.

It was stupid to suggest that you wouldn't be the perfect High Lady.

Diplomatic. Gifted. Elegant. Poised.

And Eris adored every part of you that you decided to show him, he basked in it actually.

You weren't really paying attention as the ladies around you tugged at your hair and pulled another dress up your body, fitting it tightly around your breasts and hips before standing back and humming in approval. Then you looked.

An assortment of shimmering golds, burnt oranges and flecks of silver, all weaving between one another like the summer tides. It was sheer, enough to be endearing and elegant but not enough to appear indecent. There was a cut out half sphere below your breasts and the bodice flared upward like streaks of sunshine at the crack of dawn. Even you had to admit that it was a stunning piece indeed. Like a stained glass window glowing with dawns kiss.

"This is the one," your fingers brushed around your hips with a faint smile, your hair was unbound and simple, a perfect compliment to the other-worldly dress you adorned, and your makeup was a picture of dewy perfection, shimmers along your cheekbones and forehead, arched brows, glossed lip. "Thank you," you had dismissed the flock of women as soon as they strapped your shoes to your feet, taking a moment for yourself before you slipped from the room.

The quietness of the hallway was enough to tell you that Eris would already be in the ballroom, no doubt sassily quipping the other High Lords and Ladies with cold eyes and a stiff spine. An act that would melt under your presence.

You weren't wrong.

As soon as you had entered the room, it was encapsulated by you. Feyre and Mor rushed to greet you, stroking your hair and running their hands down your skirts, begging for you to tell them where had gotten it. Cassian bundled you into a boisterous embrace which earnt him a curt jab from Nesta for the inappropriateness, Azriel kissed your knuckles as did Rhys, and Helion kissed your cheek in greeting, muttering to you how beautiful you looked in a hushed tone.

No reaction compared to that of Eris however as he remained glued to his seat with lips agape as his russet orbs scoured your figure, the mere action of his eyes on you making heat rise to your cheeks.

Tables lined the room with benches on either side, all packed with goblets of wine and mugs of ale, platters of food scattered at intricately measured intervals. Only Beron and Lady Autumn sat at the head of the hall, the latter of which examined you with approval.

Everyone had floated about you, stealing your attention from the one you desired to give it to. From Rhys asking you, jokingly, to revolt against Autumn and find sanctuary in Velaris, to Thesan pulling you to the side to inquire if you were being treated well. Helion had updated you on the policies you had so gracefully aided him in implementing, and you found a moment to catch up with Kallias and Viviane.

Then you made your way over to Eris who was wrapped up in a conversation with Lucien and Elain, whose gaze jolted from cold to warm in a split second when he saw your dress glistening in the corner of his eye, "Hello, Embers," his voice was as smooth as freshly cracked open whisky as he prodded you with the nickname he had given you, he thought you glowed, not brightly, but like embers on a dying fire, low and warm.

Eris was extremely proud to call you his wife, not only were you clearly beautiful, but you had a heart of molten gold, people sought you out for comfort and aid, you were graceful and poised, and could change the world with your bare hands if you wished it. It was what he needed, a chance of a real future with the woman he was falling in love with.

He couldn't blame you for your feelings toward him, you didn't exactly have a choice in the marriage but you had tried to make the most of it, and you had let him in and spent more time with him away from the duties required of you. Eris thought that you had finally started to feel a certain way toward him as well, from the faint shine in your eyes when you looked at him to the real laughter that sliced through the fogged atmosphere when he quipped something to you. You made him melt, you made him be who he always wanted to be.

"Hello," your voice was as soft as drizzled honey and your hair fell over your shoulders as you leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek, a necessary act to display your strength as a couple.

Eris felt your eyes trail down his chest and arms, the open collared cream shirt and chestnut brown jacket and pants; he had styled his hair the way you loved it, tamed but still with a playfulness to it, tousled slightly as if he had been stood on the balcony in the wind for a few moments. "Do you like it?" Eris motioned to his suit with that gleam in his eye that made your knees weak, it was certainly a good thing that he wasn't an empath like you, otherwise he'd know his effect on you and no doubt tease you for it.

Just because Eris couldn't feel your emotion doesn't mean that someone else couldn't read you like a book.

You're blushing, a voice infiltrated your mind and you did well to keep a stoic face against Rhys' shit-eating smirk he was no doubt wearing from his seat across the bench from your husband, with his arm loosely wrapped around Feyre's waist, sipping from his goblet with a teasing glint in his eye. Someone might say you might actually feel something for the man.

Ignoring the voice in your head, you spoke, "I love it, we're basically matching."

You'll definitely be matching when both of your clothes are on the floor tonight.

Go fuck yourself, Rhys.

I don't need to. Not when I have my lovely mate.

The walls in your mind flew up then, trapping his talons against the roof of your consciousness with such force that the High Lord visibly winced and rubbed his temple tenderly.

"You look angelic," Eris stood before you, taking your hand in his and pressing his lips against the back of your hand, dipping low and peering at you through his lashes, making no effort to mask the desire in his emotions.

"Thank you," it came out as a whisper and he placed your hand back to your side, sitting down again beside his brother, allowing you to glance along the table which housed not only Eris and Lucien, but also Elain, Rhys, Feyre, Nesta, Cassian, Azriel, Helion, and your brother, meaning there was no space for you, "I suppose I'll go and sit with Kallias and Viviane," you picked up your skirts to turn away when Eris' hand shot out and secured around your wrist.

Eris' eyes glowed in the candlelight, you could see the flames flickering in his russet orbs that had you in a constant chokehold, "What if you-"

"If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you," Azriel choked on his wine and coughed as Rhys and Cassian howled in laughter, even Eris chuckled and ran a hand through his hair at your words, standing to tower over you and cup your face in his hand.

"Perhaps later," he smirked and you visibly blushed at the words, even Eris couldn't miss it and he stroked a thumb over your rosed cheek.

In defence, you quipped, "Maybe I'll go back to my chambers then," the words flew from your mouth and you only realised how they sounded when Eris' focus darkened, the tension between you both was palpable to the point that even Azriel let out a whoosh of air he didn't realise he was holding in his lungs.

"So tempting," he took a step closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and speaking a low, rough tone, "Don't leave me here alone, you know I don't do well without you."

"Fine," you strained and he grinned victoriously before ordering his brother and Elain to scooch down slightly to make room for you, and you slotted beside Eris like the final piece to his puzzle, thanking him for the goblet of wine you had taken from his offering fingers and looking upward at Rhys and Feyre who both sent you a knowing glance.

Knocking on the doors of your mind, you allowed Rhys to slip in, doing your best to stay distracted against Eris' hand on your hip that sent fire coursing through your veins and heat pooling between your thighs.

I've never known him to be like this, you know.

Like what?

Rhys' eyes flickered to Eris in examination before finding you again whilst Feyre kept the heir ignorant to the conversation between you and her mate.

Soft. Caring. He loves you, Y/N.

Well, it's a good thing I love him too then.

Rhys smirked, raising his goblet to you to which you clinked against your own, sipping the spiced wine and smiling with happiness at his words.

Eris sighed and turned to you, placing a kiss to your cheek, allowing his lips to graze against your cheekbones and his breath to fan down your neck. The rest of the room had moved on, wrapped up in one another, wrapped up in the ale and music, leaving you and Eris alone and untouchable in your little bubble. His eyes scanned you, sketching every part of you onto the canvas within his mind, "Your presence has impacted me so deeply that I'm convinced that if we never met then something would feel missing," he rested his forehead against your own and his hand gripped your waist as his gaze bore into you, "Don't leave me alone, don't ever leave me," a breathless plea that stole your heart.

"I will never leave you, Eris. I will be here to watch all of your dreams come true, I promise."

Flames danced in his eyes and he became unbothered by who could be watching, "They already are," his finger stroked a line up the curve of your throat as he lifted your chin up, wasting no time in pressing his lips to yours in something you could only call ethereal, so tender but passionate that you felt your heart burst with golden light in your chest.

Eris smirked against your lips, a knowing thing, like he knew exactly what had just happened, pulling away, you gasped as your hand ghosted over the fabric of your heart, "You knew?"

"From the moment we met at that meeting in Dawn," his nose brushed against yours, "You were too busy helping Thesan and keeping Tamlin under control to notice, but I saw you, and I knew I needed you."

"You never said anything."

"How could I?" Eris pressed a kiss to your nose, "You had to fall for me on your own, I couldn't influence that."

You inhaled his scent, of crackling firewood and spiced oranges and sighed, you curled your fingers around the lapels of his jacket and kissed him again, more forcefully, and luckily for you both, the room hadn't noticed your infatuation due to Cassian's well played distraction to give you both a moment, one that you needed.

"I need to get you out of here before I take you on this table," his voice possessively growled and it made you shudder in intense delight.

Rhys watched from across the way as Eris took your hand in his own and pulled you from the room, smiling at the large grin on your face and the faint giggles passing through your lips as he saw the silhouette of Eris flinging you over his shoulder cascaded in shadow onto the white stone floor.

If anyone deserved true happiness, a life of wonder and love, it was you, and it was something Rhys believed Eris was now fully capable of providing for you.

Author's Note

Back from Paris in love with the idea of love so expect lots of fluff coming your way x