#Eris fanfic

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny VI - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny VI - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: smut (minors dni), fluff, angst, misogynistic language/beliefs, violence

A/n: I hope this part is good enough for you guys to forgive me for being a week late!

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Part VI

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To your disappointment, when you woke up the next morning, Eris was already gone—the sheets cold on his side. You let out a sigh and got up, blinking the sleep from your eyes. It was only then you realized Willow and Ivy were fretting around the bedroom, the wardrobe doors thrown open and piles of dresses on the floor.

“What on earth are you two doing?”

Your handmaidens jumped in shock at the sound of your voice before Ivy turned to face you. “Oh, Lady, you are awake! Lord Eris requested we pack an overnight bag for you.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “For what?” 

They both shared a glance before shrugging but they couldn’t hide the smiles on their faces. “We can only guess, my Lady, but he did not tell us anything.” 

“Did he at least tell you where he’s taking me?” You sighed but they both shook their heads.

“No,” Willow grumbled, “Which is why we’re struggling to pack. We have no idea what you’ll need.”

But Ivy just smiled brightly. “We’ll just pack a bit of everything. That way you’ll be ready for whatever it is he wants.” 

The look in her eyes told you she knew exactly what Eris wanted and your cheeks turned red. You let out a huff of air before falling back down on your pillows. 

“Oh no, Lady, you mustn’t fall asleep again. We are to escort you to the stables in an hour's time. Willow will run you a bath.” 

You let Willow help you get ready, your mind on Eris and what he had in store for you. Willow dressed you in a long burgundy gown that had a corset styled bodice that clung to your frame and a flowy chiffon skirt. Tiny roses were embroidered along the lighter side panels of the skirt. 

Luckily, it wasn’t long before your handmaidens were presenting you to your mate who was waiting for you at the stables. 

Eris was staring at you with an intensity that had your face full of color. It wasn’t until the two of you were left alone that his infamous fox-like grin spread on his face. He was dressed finely in dark brown breeches with riding boots and a tunic embroidered with small leaves along the seams. 

“Would you like your own horse this time, bunny?”

Right, you did technically know how to ride a horse now. But you shook your head. “May I ride with you?”

“Who am I to deny a lady her request?” Eris purred, extending a hand out to you. Butterflies danced in your stomach as you took it, letting him pull you close so he could lift you onto Marigold, the horse. 

He strapped the overnight bag to the horse before he lifted himself up behind you, wrapping his arms around your body to take the reins in one hand and pulling you back against his chest with his other. Your cheeks turned pink and you let out a content sigh as the warmth from his body combatted the crisp morning air. 

Marigold started her trot into the woods and it was silent for a moment before you spoke. 

"Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise," Eris teased.

"I don't like surprises," you pouted.

"No?" Eris's breath tickled the tip of your ear. He moved your hair to one shoulder, granting him access to your throat. He pressed a kiss against the sensitive skin there causing a shiver to run down your spine. "Well, that's too bad, bunny. You're getting one." 

You were smiling without realizing it, so honed into the places Eris's body met yours. The morning birds were chirping, the leaves rustling in the chill autumn wind. It was enchanting. The Autumn woods were quickly becoming a sanctuary for you and your mate. You hadn't felt this happy in a long time. 

You asked Eris an endless amount of questions about the Autumn Court, his brothers and family, and his life during the horse ride to wherever he was taking you. The sun began to set, sending streaks of golden light through the openings in the leaves. It wasn’t until you saw smoke curling around the tops of the tree, that you realized you were nearing your destination. 

Soon, a small cottage nestled between the tall trees appeared. Moss and ivy clung to the outer walls, blending it into the earthy flora surrounding it. A path made of fallen leaves led towards the front door, flanked by wildflowers in various colors. The babbling of a creek met your ears as you squinting to see through the sunlight filtering in through the canopy of trees above. 

“What is this place?” You twisted your head to look up at Eris. 

“One of my personal residences,” Eris answered, staring wistfully ahead. “One few know about.” 

As you drew closer to the cottage, Eris guided Marigold to a stop. He slid off the back, keeping one hand lingering on your waist.

“And you're sharing it with me?” Another secret Eris was willingly divulging to you. He had no idea how much it meant to you. He gave you a charming grin as he helped you down. 

“There is nothing I wouldn’t share with you, bunny. What is mine is yours,” he said. He kissed the top of your head before guiding you into the cottage with a hand on your back. 

As you stepped over the threshold of the hidden cottage, the scent of aged timber and a faint hint of herbs and spices greeted you. A snap of Eris’s fingers had the wood in the fireplace coming to life. Furniture made from weathered oak and mahogany filled the room, now illuminated by the warm glow of a crackling fire in the stone hearth. A plush armchair was nestled beside the hearth, a stack of books on top of it.

In a corner of the room, a spiral staircase wound its way upwards, disappearing into the shadows above. An opening straight ahead showed a peek of a kitchen. You spun as you walked forward, taking it all in before turning back to find Eris staring at you with a small smile. 

“I come here when I need a break from my father and duties,” Eris said, surprising you once again with his candidness. “And I needed to come here today so I didn’t murder my brother for slipping that breeding tonic into your drink last night.” 

Your eyes widened. “Reid?” 

Eris nodded, his jaw clenching. “He claims he did it only to embarrass you a bit at dinner but then my mother sent you away. He says he had no idea that you’d run into those guards.” 

You rubbed your arm, looking down at the floor as the memories of last night flooded your mind. “And you believe him?” 

“I unfortunately do. That doesn’t mean he didn’t face any…consequences for his little prank,” Eris said as he walked towards you. He slipped two fingers under your chin and made you look at him. “But I want you to know, bunny, that nothing like that will ever happen to you again. Do you hear me? I will not let anything happen to you. I don’t care who I have to kill to ensure that.”

“But Eris—”

He placed a finger against your lips, silencing you. “No. No buts. I was blessed with the gift of fire and I will burn down this whole world with no remorse if that's what it takes to keep you safe. Do you understand?” You opened your mouth to rebuke his words but Eris shook his head. “I don’t want to hear any objections. They will change nothing. Just a simple yes or no, bunny. Do you understand?” 

You searched his amber eyes for something, not even knowing what you were looking for. But you knew what you found. A heavy resolve, a promise, a need to protect. And you realized in that moment that you felt all those things as well. You swallowed, audibly. 

“Yes,” you whispered. “I understand.” 

Eris grinned. “Good.”

“So, why have you brought me here, my Lord?” You asked in a teasing tone, lightening the mood. 

“I brought you here to have a break from the suffocating nature of my court,” Eris answered, guiding you further into the charming cottage. 

“Well, I appreciate your consideration, my Lord.”

“Oh, back to formalities, little bunny?” That fox-line grin bloomed on Eris’s face. “I thought we moved past that last night.” He stepped closer to you, brushing some of the hair away from your face. Your cheeks turned red again causing Eris to chuckle, “Oh don't look so embarrassed, bunny. You seemed to quite enjoy having my affections.” 

Butterflies danced in your stomach. His scent was too enticing, the power that seemed to burn all around him all encompassing. Your face was on fire, your heart too. But he was right. You had enjoyed last night. You had wanted his lips on you, his hands on your skin. That hadn't changed. Even now that the breeding tonic had worn off. That craving for his touch was still there. 

"I believe you made me a promise last night, my Lord," you replied with a slight smile, toying with the laces of his tunic. 

“I did,” Eris growled and took your hands in his. “I intend to keep it.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. The look in his eyes caused another wave of desire to crash into you. Unfortunately, your stomach decided that was the time to make itself known. A small rumble sounded and you nearly cursed at it. But Eris chuckled and stepped away, to your disappointment. 

“Come, bunny, I had the cook prepare us a light dinner,” he said, leading you to the kitchen.

Dinner consisted of an array of cheeses and breads, along with dried fruits and nuts. You were glad it was so light because you had more of an appetite for the male sitting in front of you than the food on the table. The sentiment seemed shared considering the lingering touches and heated looks Eris had been sending you. By the end of dinner, he looked quite pleased with himself for riling you up, sitting in his chair like it was his personal throne. Eris waved a hand and the dishes and plates disappeared in a blink of an eye. 

You sat frozen in your chair as he eyed you, drinking the last of his wine from his goblet. His gaze was enough to set you on edge, predatory but it didn't frighten you in the slightest. In fact, it made you come alive. He set his glass down before standing, making you hop out of your chair. If you had it your way, he'd toss you over his shoulder again like he did the first time you'd met and carry you straight to the bedroom. But instead, he leaned against the kitchen cabinets and beckoned you to him.

You'd never felt more like a bunny than in this moment. Like a hare about to be caught in a trap. 

As you stepped close to him, he brushed the hair out of your face, hooking it behind your ears before taking your cheeks in his hands. His touch was so warm, so comforting. Who cares if this was a trap? If this was the fox you were to be ensnared by, then so be it. 

“I need you to understand something before we continue down a path I know I will never be able to return from, bunny,” Eris began, his amber eyes glowing in the candlelight. “Whatever happens tonight is your choice. If you want to go back to the manor, I will take you. If you just wish to sleep, that is what we will do. Anything you don't like, just say the word and I will stop without question. Do you understand?”

A moment of silence passed as you processed his words, the care he was spelling out for you. Your hand fell on his chest, lingering over his beating heart. One you now knew was good—at least for you. And you realized it was never the fox that had ensnared the bunny but rather, the other way around. 

Because this Eris, the one standing before you now, was entirely reserved for you and you only. 

“Eris,” you whispered.

“Yes.”

“Kiss me,” you breathed out. “Please.”

“You'll never have to beg me, bunny,” Eris purred before finally pressing his lips against yours. 

The kiss became heated fast, leading the two of you to stumble around the cottage until he was pushing you up the stairs. You giggled, taking your skirt in your hands to rush up the steps. You barely made it through the threshold of the bedroom door before you were grabbing Eris by the lapels of his shirt and pulling him into a frenzied kiss. He groaned, eagerly kissing you back as he kicked the door shut behind him. 

Your hands slid down to the buttons of his shirt, feeling his muscles tensing under your touch. But Eris pulled your hands away from him before breaking the kiss. You whined at the loss of contact, lips swollen and breasts heaving with pants. 

“Not so fast, bunny,” Eris said with a wave of his hand that had every single candle lighting in the room. 

You gasped as the room came to life, as the light illuminated the large four-poster bed covered in dark red, velvet sheets and fluffy pillows in all shades of Autumn. A small hearth warmed the room and textured fabrics hung from the ceiling embedded with faelights that gave the room a hazy and comforting atmosphere. 

“Come here,” Eris rasped, holding out his arm. 

Your heart fluttered as you took it, letting him draw you close. He spun you around and moved your hair to one shoulder before his hands drifted down to the laces on the back of your corset. His nimble fingers began to expertly unlace your corset while he pressed a kiss to your exposed shoulder. You let out a breath at the feeling of his warm, soft lips against your skin. 

You reached back to help him with the ties, too eager to wait, but he ripped your hands away. “Relax, little bunny,” Eris purred. “Let me do all the work.” 

Your heart started beating faster.

“Okay,” you whispered. 

Eris smirked against your skin, satisfied with the response.

He finished unlacing the corset and your dress dropped to the floor, pooling around your feet and leaving you in just your underthings. You were nearly shaking with anticipation, your breathing heavy as he lightly brushed his knuckles down your spine, causing you to shiver. 

Eris leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Get on the bed.” 

“I thought you were doing all the work,” you teased.

“You’re right,” Eris smiled before he picked you up by the hips and tossed you onto the bed as you squealed, letting you fall on the soft cushions. 

He prowled towards you with a grin, unlacing his own tunic and tugging it off. Your gaze fell to his chest, his muscled abs. Your breath caught in your throat. Eris already looked like a God but he was built like one too. 

Eris’s eyes roamed your body, his hands fisting like he was restraining himself.

You held your breath as he slowly hovered over you, his eyes searching yours for a moment until he found the certainty he was looking for. And then he kissed you again and your body came to life once more. Sparks skittered down your skin, crackling with energy.

He kissed his way down your jaw, your throat, all the way down until he was scraping his teeth against your pebbled nipple still hidden under your bra. You gasped before slapping a hand over your mouth. 

Eris’s eyes shot to yours and he growled, “My one and only rule tonight is that you let me hear those noises, bunny. Do you understand?”

You gulped and pulled your hand away from your mouth, nodding your head though your cheeks turned pink. 

“Good girl,” he purred before continuing on, leaving a trail of kisses down your exposed stomach until he pressed a kiss to the dampened spot on your panties, right between your legs. You breathed out his name, so on edge. 

“Gods,” Eris groaned. “You smell absolutely divine.” 

You might be a virgin but you weren’t completely naive when it came to sex. You had certainly read enough romance novels to prepare you for this moment. But you hadn’t expected to feel like this—to feel so utterly captivated by Eris, aching for his touch. 

“I want to see all of you, bunny,” Eris murmured, his amber eyes drinking you in. He toyed with the straps of your bra as he gave you his famous grin that made him look all the more fox-like considering the absolute hunger in his gaze. “May I?” 

“Yes,” you said, breathless with butterflies ravaging your stomach. The desire for your mate ate away any embarrassment you might’ve felt otherwise. 

His grin grew, his elongated canines exposed. Eris slowly pulled the straps of your bra down your arm, the silky fabric moving softly against your tingling skin. And then his hands were beneath you, arching you up slightly so he could unhook your bra. 

He gently pulled the garment off of you, tossing it to the floor. 

“Beautiful,” Eris groaned, his hard cock pressing against your thigh told you just how true that statement was to him. 

Shyness started to creep in and you quickly covered yourself with your arms, blushing bright red. Eris tsked and moved your arms away. “Don’t be shy, bunny. It’s just me and you here.” 

Just you and Eris. Just you and your mate. His words eased you and you felt your body soften underneath him. His large hands caressed you as he kissed his way down your neck until he finally took one of your breasts in his mouth. 

You hissed, your hands flying to tangle themselves in his hair. He grinned against your skin as he continued his ministrations, making you feel hot with need. You whimpered as his cock rubbed against you.

“Please, Eris,” you begged, not even sure what you wanted or needed. 

Eris sat up, his hands sliding to your waist. “Is my bunny ready for something more?” 

You nodded, eagerly, squirming under him. He hooked his fingers around your underwear. “Lift your hips for me, babygirl.” 

Your heart swooned at the new nickname. 

“Gods,” Eris groaned as he finally peeled off your final piece of clothing, baring you fully. “Gods, you are so beautiful.”

You felt…vulnerable as he drank in the sight of your bare body laid before him. Your toes curled at the predatory look in his eyes. Something about the dominance, the control he held over you in this moment made every rational thought leave your mind—his scent of crackling embers and cinnamon was intoxicating.

Eris leaned over you again to run his hands over every soft curve of your body. His hand drifted back between your legs, gently caressing your throbbing core. You whimpered, bucking up into his touch. 

Eris smirked against your lips. “Is my little bunny ready for me?” 

You swallowed harshly while nodding your head. 

He pressed a kiss to your neck before whispering, “I need your words, bunny.” 

“I’m ready, Eris,” you whimpered. “Please, don’t stop.” 

“I already told you that you’d never have to beg for me,” he murmured. He kissed his way down your neck, his body sliding down yours. Your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What are you doing?” You didn’t want to wait any longer, already going crazy with want. But he didn’t stop. 

“Relax,” he purred. “Let me take care of you.” 

He pressed a kiss to your stomach. 

“My little bunny,” he murmured against your skin. 

Another kiss to the spot between your hips. “My babygirl.” 

And then he was kneeling on the floor, hooking his arms around your thighs and yanking you to the edge of the bed. You gasped, raising on your elbows to look at him. He kissed the back of your knee, tickling you, before he moved his way up your thigh, leaving love bites along your skin. 

“I need to taste you.” His voice was full of hunger, lust, as he left marks all along your thigh—sucking and biting the soft skin. 

You gasped as he ran his tongue up your slit, grasping the bedsheets in your fists. The books you read always made this act seem hot but feeling it was something else. Desire flooded you, leaving you panting for air. 

And then Eris was devouring you…devouring you like you were the sweetest fruit he’d ever tasted. You tossed your head back against the pillows, crying out his name in pleasure. 

“Eris,” you mewled. “Gods.”

Eris’s own hand slipped down to rub himself through his pants at the sound of your cries. His other hand rose, replacing his mouth to rub circles on your clit.

“I’ve got to get you ready for me, bunny,” he whispered, his finger toying at your entrance making you squirm with need. You weren’t sure what he meant by that until a single finger slowly slipped inside of you. 

You moaned at the feeling, your back bowing off the bed. Eris slowly pulled his finger out before thrusting it back in you. You couldn’t help your hips from grinding down in rhythm with his thrusts. 

“That’s it, babygirl,” he praised. He gave you a few more thrusts before he slowly started to add another finger. You hissed at the feeling of being stretched, sucking your breath in. “Breath, bunny. You’re doing so good.”

Another thrust had you finally relaxing, the slight pressure replaced with hot pleasure. You moaned his name as Eris continued to fuck you with his fingers, his mouth sucking on your clit again. He didn’t stop. Not even as your moans came out as pleas, as his name fell out of your lips over and over again while he pushed you over the edge, your vision going black with all the pleasure as you orgasmed. 

Still, he continued to devour you, causing you to writhe, overstimulated with pleasure. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pulling slightly as you cried but Eris merely growled, “I’m not done yet, bunny.” 

You weren’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse. You ultimately decided it was indeed a blessing as he brought you to your second orgasm with his tongue and fingers far more quickly than your first. You were gasping for air as he made his way back up the length of your body, smiling with satisfaction at how unraveled he had made you. You couldn’t help but grab Eris’s face in your hands, marveling at his striking and cruel beauty. 

“You’re never escaping me now, bunny,” he growled, running his nose up the column of your neck and groaning at your scent. “Now that I’ve got a taste of you, I’m never letting you go.”

“I don’t want you to,” you murmured, your heart beating in your chest. 

“Good,” he answered, kissing you and letting you taste yourself on his lips. His hand was back between your legs, stroking your still sensitive core. You moaned into his kiss, your hips thrusting up against him. 

He grinded his hips down, rubbing his hard cock against you and you gasped, breaking the kiss. The unbridled hunger in his gaze had your heart racing as he stared down at you. “Do you still want this, bunny?”

“Yes,” you whispered, quickly. You were sure you’d go insane if he didn’t fuck you at this point. He sat back on his haunches and began to unlace his pants. His hard cock sprung free from its constraints and your eyes widened as you glanced down at it.

Eris tossed his pants somewhere behind him, chuckling as he noticed you observing him. By feeling alone you’d known his dick was big but seeing it now, you felt slightly intimidated. You sat up a bit and reached a hand out, lightly stroking him with curiosity.

Eris groaned, his hips twitching into your touch. He gently pulled your hand away, resting over you with one arm next to your head. “You can explore later. I need you. I can’t wait any longer.” 

You nodded, swallowing with anticipation. He stared directly into your eyes as he guided himself towards your entrance, pausing one last time to allow you the chance to stop. But you placed a hand on his cheek and pulled him into a kiss instead. Eris kissed you, hungrily. His tongue parted your lips as he devoured you. He lined himself up before slowly starting to push into you. He wasn't even an inch in before he felt the resistance. He kept you locked in a kiss as he pushed farther in, stretching you out to the point of pain. 

You cringed slightly at the feeling, pulling away from his lips with a hiss. But the way Eris stared down at you with so much reverence and care comforted you. Still, you grimaced as the pain increased, as the stretching felt more like he was tearing you in half. 

You hissed again and Eris peppered kisses to your face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head, unable to tell him to stop apologizing. He grunted as you dug your nails into his biceps while he continued to thrust in slowly. “Fuck, bunny, you’re taking me so well.” 

His praise caused your heart to flutter, making you relax more until he was seated all the way. He groaned, glancing down at where both of your bodies were now connected. Your grip on his biceps were still tight as the pain started to soothe into a warmth that began to spread throughout your body. 

“Breath for me, babygirl,” Eris whispered, kissing your jaw. You nodded, eyes squeezing shut. You hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in your breath. The exhale of air from your lungs made your body soften fully and soon the pain was overwhelmed by the pleasure of having him inside of you. You moaned out his name, trying to let him know you were ready for more. 

“That’s it,” Eris groaned, feeling the tension leave. He slid out only a fraction before pushing back in—just enough to make you whimper. He brushed some of the damp hair from your forehead with a tenderness that had the bond in your chest aching. 

You were desperate for him to start moving and you realized he was waiting on some cue from you—some sign that you were ready for him. But talking felt impossible right now, your brain empty of all thoughts except a need for your mate. You lifted your hips, your breath catching with the movement. Eris grunted at the feeling of you around him. 

You breathed out his name again and that seemed to finally snap his restraint. Yet he was still gentle as he pulled all the way out of you before slowly thrusting back in. Your back arched at the new feeling. You finally released your grip on his biceps, stringing your arms around his neck instead. 

Eris began to move faster, deeper. One of his hands slid down your thigh, guiding you to hook it around his hips. The new angle caused him to hit a spot inside of you that had moans spilling from your lips. Eris kissed any part of you he had access to—your cheeks, your lips, your ears, your neck. His lips were hot, warming your skin as if you were standing next to an open flame. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful.” 

His thrusts into you had you sliding against the silk sheets, had your breasts bouncing and your core throbbing around him with pleasure.

And he was watching you the whole time with a devotion that had you breathless. His whiskey amber eyes so focused on you and your pleasure, like it was all that mattered to him in this moment. His rhythm quickened, his strokes faster and faster as you spiraled underneath him—coming undone completely. 

It was overwhelming in the best possible way. Your bodies together as one. The feeling of the mating bond singing in your chest. The bliss of finally sharing yourself with someone you were falling in love with. Someone who held you like you were his entire world. Someone who saw all the unseen parts of you—the parts no one else had cared to look at. 

The culmination of everything had fire licking its way down your body, warmth spreading through your veins. Each thrust had a new wave of pleasure crashing into you. Each kiss had your heart beating to the tune of his. You were his in this moment—heart, mind, body and soul. And he was yours. Your fox. Your mate. Your Eris. 

Your vision went white as you toppled over the edge for a third time, screaming his name as you were consumed by his fire. Eris cursed as he rode out your orgasm, his pace growing sloppy as he lost himself in the feeling of you. He pounded into you, over and over again. You were mindless as you lightly grasped his cheeks, staring into his beautiful face—your body still in its state of bliss. 

“Mine,” he grunted. “You are mine.” 

“Yours,” you agreed. “And you belong to me.”

Those words had more of an effect on him than you could ever imagine. He groaned your name, his jaw tensing before he cried out and gave one final thrust inside of you that had the entire bed shaking. His forehead fell against yours as he climaxed, shuddering and panting for air. 

You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other for who knows how long. Just you and him. You and Eris. Nothing else mattered right now. Not his father or his court. Not your sisters or your mysterious powers. No conflict, no war, no pain. Nothing but the two of you and the eternal flame that connected your souls. 

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You should've known that the euphoria wouldn't last for long. The universe always had a way of making sure the highs were met with the lowest of lows. So when you returned to the Forest House with Eris the next day and were summoned immediately upon arrival to the throne room, you were not surprised. Still, a lead weight dropped in your stomach. Eris had staunchly tried to argue that you could remain within his chambers while he dealt with the matter but the guards had been adamant that the High lord had requested both of your presences. 

He held your hand tightly in his as you walked into the throne room together. Beron sat on his throne, Seraphina on her smaller chair to the side of him. Eris’s three brothers stood at the bottom of the dais—each of their faces unreadable. Reid’s face was covered in bruises and you winced, knowing it was your mate that was behind it. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to feel bad. Not after what he had done to you. 

Eris had glamoured your scents, not wanting to give his father any ammunition to use against you. The Gods knew how traditional the Autumn Court was. Beron would be displeased to know you had sex before your mating ceremony. Would likely use that as an excuse to do who knows what.

“Father,” Eris said, dipping his head in a faux show of respect. 

Beron glanced at his son before looking at you, expectantly. You dropped Eris’s hand and curtsied like you’d been taught. “High Lord.” It was enough to have him look away from you and back to his eldest son. 

“In the time you’ve been absent,” Beron started, holding his hands behind his back. “I’ve learned of a few…events that have transpired in this court. Namely the death of three of my best guards and the disfigurement of one of my sons.” 

Eris scoffed, straightening his cuffs. “Reid will heal.” 

You tensed, noting the anger in Beron’s eyes. 

“That may be so,” Beron replied. “But my guards will not.” 

“They deserved death for what they did,” Eris growled. “They attacked my mate.” 

“And by whose word is that?” Beron asked, his tone chilling. “Were there any witnesses of this alleged attack? Or did you simply take the word of a female over three trained, professional guards—guards who have protected you your entire life, son?” 

“I saw it with my own eyes,” Eris snarled, stepping forward. 

Beron merely tilted his head, staring down at his son. “Any other witnesses?”

“You don’t believe your own son?” Eris questioned, causing Beron’s eyes to narrow.

“Not when his actions seem far too…uncharacteristic,” Beron said. “You are not known to attack others, Eris. I expect far more restraint from my Heir. Now, answer my question. Are there any other witnesses?” 

Eris stood up straighter, unwilling to back down. You swallowed harshly, your eyes darting between Beron and your mate. “Her two handmaidens were witness as well.” 

Beron chuckled, mirthlessly. His dead eyes lacked any amusement. “Two lesser fae? As if they are known for speaking any truths. Please son, you humor me greatly.” 

“So you refuse to take me at my word,” Eris scowled. “Yet also refuse to hear from the two witnesses who saw the attack, as well. What is it you want?” 

Flames licked the shoulders of the High Lord, a show of his growing ire. “Watch your tone when talking to me, son. What I want is justice for the guards who have lost their life over something so…trivial.”

“Trivial?” Eris scoffed. “You think it’s trivial that they—”

Beron held up a hand, silencing his son. “I wasn’t finished. Do not interrupt me again or there will be far greater consequences.” 

Eris moved in front of you, blocking his father’s view. You were nearly shaking with dread, nausea swimming in your stomach. Where was Beron going with this?

“As I was saying,” Beron continued. “I seek justice for the guards who are now dead. Punishment for your mate’s lack of decorum that resulted in their actions which led to their deaths. For that, she shall receive ten lashes.” 

The room fell silent except for a small gasp that came from your lips. Ten lashes? Ten lashes all because his guards had attacked you? That was….that was insane! Your lip quivered. Eris glanced back at you for a second, his face pale before his expression hardened into rage. He turned back to his father, glaring.

“I am her mate,” Eris declared. “And according to Autumn law, allowed to take her punishment as mine.”

The fact that he wasn’t trying to argue with his father told you that it would probably be no use.  

“Is that what you want?” Beron looked pleased, as if he knew this would be the outcome to his sentencing. You felt ready to puke. How could a father be so eager to hurt his own son? Just how twisted was this male?

“Yes.” Eris’s voice didn’t waver or soften. 

“Eris,” you whispered in horror, stepping forward. You couldn’t let him do this—couldn’t let him get whipped on your behalf. Neither of you should be facing this punishment. It was both cruel and unjust. But if someone had to take it, it had to be you. 

Eris turned to look at you with a stern expression.

“Don’t speak,” he ordered, his voice so harsh you nearly flinched but you knew his anger was not directed at you. You knew he was just doing what he could to protect you. “Go to my chambers and stay there until either I or your handmaidens come to collect you.” 

“She is not going anywhere,” Beron spoke up. “You are allowed to take her punishment but she is ordered to stay and watch. She must understand what it means to be a part of this court. Must understand what her actions have caused.”

“Father,” Eris’s voice was slightly pleading for once but Beron held up his hand again.

“Another word and it will be fifteen lashes instead.” 

Eris’s shoulder fell and he quickly schooled himself, nodding. You took a sharp breath, your eyes welling with tears. You wanted to reach for him but two guards grabbed you by the upper arms and held you in place. You watched as Eris began to unbutton his shirt, tossing it to the ground before falling to his knees at the bottom of the dais. 

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

You were going to be sick. 

You choked in fear as Beron summoned a whip made of fire in his hands, coming to stand behind his son. You tried to break free from the guards’ hold but it was impossible. Tears slipped down your face.

“Don’t!” you cried out. “Please, don’t hurt him! I’ll take them. I’ll—”

“I said another word and it would be fifteen lashes instead of ten,” Beron growled, his cold eyes darting to you before they looked back down at his son. “Your mate just caused you another five lashes, Eris.” 

No. No. No.

Your eyes darted around the room, looking for someone who might put an end to this. Who might stop this. But it was Finn who caught your eyes and gave you a small shake of the head, his lips pressed in a fine line. You were heaving, horrified. You had made things so much worse already. So much worse. 

No one was coming to stop this. No one was coming to save Eris. No one ever had. 

You stood frozen as the first crack of the whip echoed through the big room, striking Eris’s back and ripping through his flesh. Your heart was pounding in your chest as the whip rose again, the flames dancing in a menacing way. Another strike had more tears blurring your vision. By the third strike, you had fallen to your knees, retching. 

You couldn’t even see Eris’s face, but you knew it was contorted in agony. You tried to send comfort down the mating bond, comfort and love and anything else, but it was met with a wall of flame that blocked you out. That only had more tears falling down your face. Even in his agonizing pain, Eris was still protecting you. 

Memories of last night flooded your mind. The joy, the elation, the love. The time spent together wrapped up in each other like nothing else mattered. The secrets the two of you had shared beneath the covers. How had you gone from that to this? 

Your heart shattered with each strike. Your soul was aching as you sat there, watching in horror as Eris’s blood began to pool on the tiled floor. You had caused this. This was all your fault. All Eris had done since the beginning was try to protect you. And this is how you had returned the favor. The worst part of it all was knowing he wouldn’t even blame you at all for this. Not even for the five extra lashes you had caused. 

By the seventh strike, your own pool of vomit lay around you. 

Eris didn’t even cry, barely moved at all. It was haunting and it made you realize that this was not the first time this had happened to him by a long shot. How many times had his father punished him like this in his lifetime? How many scars lingered underneath his skin—only hidden by the unnatural healing of the fae? By the fifteenth strike, you knew the answer to be far too many. 

The guards finally let you go once Beron had finished and left the throne room, taking his wife with him. You scrambled to your feet, darting towards Eris but Liam caught you by the arm with a grimace. “You won’t be able to carry him. Let us take him to his chambers.” 

You were forced to watch again as both Liam and Finn heaved Eris’s near unconscious form up between the two of them. You trailed behind them, tears soaking the collar of your dress. The walk to his chambers seemed to take an eternity. Eris groaned as they fumbled him through the door. 

“Get him to the bath,” Reid murmured, causing you to jump in shock. You hadn’t realized that even he had followed. 

You darted ahead of them, starting to fill the basin as they dragged your injured mate into the bathing chambers and slid him into the tub. Eris grunted in pain as the water splashed against his wounds, staining it red. You muffled your own cries with a hand. 

“Father won’t allow him to be seen by a healer,” Finn whispered to you. “Can you take care of him from here?” 

You nodded your head, speechless. 

“He has some cooling salve and bandages under the sink,” Finn said, nodding his head towards the sink. “Come find me if you need help.” 

The three brothers took their leave after that, leaving you alone with your mate. You pulled out all the supplies Finn had mentioned, falling to your knees next to the tub where Eris sat, his knees drawn to his chest and his head resting against them. 

“Eris,” you finally whispered, stroking his hair. “Eris, I am so, so sorry.” 

“S’not your fault,” he mumbled, tiredly. 

You wanted to scream. Wanted to cry and scream and rage. But it was more important to take care of him right now. So you slowly set to work, apologizing each time he flinched as you cleaned his wounds. Your heart ached as you helped him out of the bath once you were finished.

“Come on,” you murmured. “Let’s get you on the bed.”

You helped him strip off his wet pants and underwear before laying him down on the bed on his stomach. You pulled the sheets up to his waist, leaving his back untouched. You kneeled on the bed next to him, taking out the salve to start spreading it over the wounds. 

Eris let out a sigh as you started applying it and your heart cracked in your chest as he slowly drifted to sleep, his body finally giving out. You cried as you smeared the salve over the burns before bandaging them gently. Once you were done, your head dropped to his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried to his sleeping form. “I’m so sorry.” 

You don’t know how long you sat there, crying over him. But at some point, you finally sat up and wiped your face dry. Beron might’ve forbade any healer from helping Eris, but you had learned a thing or two from Elain about some plants that might help. Plants that the two of you used to mash into a paste and give to Feyre for all the blisters and calluses she would return home with when you were living in that small cottage. Plants that you knew you had seen during your ride in the forest with Eris. 

With that in mind, you gathered yourself before setting out to collect some, leaving Eris asleep on the bed for now. 

Luckily, you were able to sneak from the Forest House without anyone seeing you. You hid amongst the trees, plucking the plants and bundling them in your skirt. When you were confident that you had gathered enough, you started making your way back to the Forest House but you didn’t make it very far before you were interrupted. 

Shadows seemed to grow between the trees until a very familiar face stepped from them. You gasped in shock as Azriel materialized right before you, his hazel eyes staring directly at you. 

“Y/n,” he greeted, cooly, looking over your form like he was looking for any injuries before meeting your gaze again. 

“Az…Azriel? What are you doing here?”

“We’ve figured out a way to get you out of this mess,” he said, taking a step towards you. “Come, Feyre will explain to you once we’re home.” 

You mirrored his step backwards, eyes going wide. You didn’t want to go home…in fact, you knew in your heart that Velaris was no longer home to you. Home was…Home was Eris. You shook your head at him, trying to form the words to tell him you weren’t coming. 

“N-no,” you finally stuttered out. “I-I can’t go back. I don’t want—”

“Like I said—it will all be explained once we get back,” Azriel cut you off, moving quicker than you and grabbing your arm causing you to drop your skirt. All the plants you had gathered for Eris fell to the ground. “Let’s go.” 

And then you were engulfed in shadows, the Autumn Court disappearing from view. And all that was left in your place was a pile of healing plants for your injured mate—for Eris who would go on to wake up alone. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

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[itsswritten]

No no no but actually what if I wrote a fic about a reader who kills Beron and then Eris falls in love with her??? 👀👀👀

[erisvansserra]

The Witch and The Viper | Eris x Reader

A/N: hey guys, this is a random account I made so I can post my fanfics without stress hahaha.

Story will be based in the middle of ACOWAR. y/n is kallias’ daughter from a one nightstand he had years prior to meeting his mate, she lives in winter with her father but travels prythian to learn more about the other courts. This will be a slow burn story, not really enemies to lovers but eris does do some stupid stuff that pisses y/n off later.

Annyyyways, I’ve changed soommme things in the OG story. I hope you enjoy this series xx (if you want to message me feel free I need other people to talk to about ACOTAR)

Triggers ( dead parent, mentions of abuse, scars )

—————-———————————————————-----------------------

It was a brisk winter morning when y/n started her patrol of the winter court border, a fresh blanket of snow crunched under her bare feet as she tiptoed on the cusp of Autumn. As per her usual morning routine, she passed Eris Vanserra on his horse with two other high fae, as he too, did his morning patrol. Their eyes locked for a split second, a polite dip of the head from each of them in greeting, then they walked past each other. This is how it went for 120 years, until one day y/n got news her mother in the Day Court had passed away from a fever. She left the Winter Court castle earlier that morning, the snow was already melting as the warmer weather started to set in. She sat under a tree and basked in the early rays of the sun, secret tears falling down her cheeks as she tried to imagine her mothers face. "Who dares to make a witch cry?" came a sultry voice from across the boarder, y/n opened her eyes and looked to Eris, who leaned against a maple tree, the leaves almost matching the red of his hair. Y/n sighed and tucked her knees to her chest before answering "my mother passed in the night".

"I'm sorry for your loss Witch" Eris said in a voice so soft she almost mistook it for empathy. "Don't call me that" she hissed, hugging her knees a little tighter. The Witch of Winter, was her unofficial title since she was a little girl. Y/N harboured a very ancient ability called "Coaxing", it allowed her to convince a man, an army, a king to do her bidding just by speaking words encased in magic. It was the reason why her father, Kallias, took her from her mother's arms when she was 10 years old, he had heard his offspring had inherited the gift and needed it for his own. Her father, was not a cruel man, but in fact loved his daughter fiercely. He groomed her to be the perfect weapon, bringing her to every meeting and ball held in prythian. Kallias made sure that her mind and body was just as powerful as her gift, she read books almost daily and trained with her fathers war generals in combat. Eris clicked his tongue and sauntered over to her, then to her surprise, he joined her. Her tearful eyes watched him with caution as he crossed his legs in the Autumn court, she knew he could not cross into winter or her father would see it as a threat. "What are you doing?" she asked as she wiped her cheeks on the back of her hand. The Autumn court male shrugged and began to crunch fallen leaves between his finger tips. A warm breeze blew between them and ruffled his now short hair. Y/N looked him over before she allowed a small smile to tug at her tips. "You got a hair cut?" She asked, pivoting so she could face him fully. Eris kept his eyes on the leaves in his hands as he started to burn through them, small puffs of smoke snaked up his long fingers before he hummed in response. "It looks nice" she offered, the small complement brought his amber eyes up to meet hers. He looked at her for a moment, taking in the baby blue dress she wore and how she had braided her hair to the side. "Thank you" he smiled kindly.

This was the first time they had ever spoken outside of a meeting their fathers hosted. Their usual conversations consisted of political jargon that left y/n's head spinning, then they would go their seperate ways and talk to their friends. Y/N had heard many horrible things over the years about the Autumn court heir, stories of how he treated women and his youngest brother Lucien. Her father urged her to keep her wits about her whenever he or his court were around, but on that day she didn't mind his company. They spent that morning in silence, she quietly crying, while Eris burnt orange leaves. When the sun was high in the sky, its warm rays kissing y/n's skin she rose from her spot under the tree. Eris tracked her from under his orange fringe that fell over his face while he was practicing his magic. "Why do you walk around barefoot?" he asked, his chip dipping to her pale feet that stood out against the green grass that pushed threw the melting snow. Y/N looked to her toe and wiggled them around on the ground. "It makes me feel more connected to my court" she explained "it's a Day Court tradition" she continued, her voice soft as she remembered her mother explaining the importance of being connected to where they live. Eris stood and brushed the loose leaves from his pants " an odd tradition" he mumbled then stood straight. Seeing him off horse back she had never noticed how tall he truely was, how his clothing hugged each muscle and how many freckles lined his nose. "It was a pleasure to spend the morning with you, witch" he said with a small bowl and a sly smile that made his eyes light up. Y/N rolled her eyes, but before she could offer up a retort Eris had winnowed away. "Coward" she chuckled to herself and slowly made her way back to the Winter Court castle, where she could hide away in her room and tuck herself into bed with a good book.

Weeks passed since that interaction with Eris. Y/N didn't see him as much on her morning patrols as she used to, but when she did things were more or less back to normal. What wasn't normal was the morning she spotted Eris with bruises and healing cuts all over his face. When they passed each other that morning he didn't look to her, he trotted on as if she didn't exist. "What happened to you?" Y/N asked as she turned to walk closer to the Autumn court. Eris pulled the reigns on his horse but did not look to her "I fell" he grumbled out. "You.. fell? where into a vipers den?" She joked coming around to the front of his horse so she could look him in the eyes. His cheek was still purple and swollen and the cut on hips lip was still bleeding, his wounds were fresh. Y/N let out a small gasp when he looked down to her, the white of his left eye was blotched with red. It was then it dawned on her he didn't fall, he was beaten. "Eris.." she breathed and made to take a step forward, he raised his hand and stopped her in her tracks. "I don't need your pity" he bit out startling her slightly. She regained her composure and crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side as she studied him. "Get off your horse" she ordered, she didn't use her magic in hopes eris would just listen. "You don't order -" "Get off the damn horse eris" she barked at the male, his face blanched for a second before he obeyed. He hadn't expected her tone to be so.. harsh. Eris only knew y/n as a quiet girl that was stolen from her home, to order him around was something no one expected.

He clutched the horses reigns in his hands as he strode over to where she stood. "For sitting with me when I had no one" she whispered to him as she raised glowing hands to his face, he looked at her with a sense of awe. Healing was a day court power, obviously one she had inherited from her mother, but it was not documented that she had this ability. He brought his face to her hands while the magic did its job, he felt his pain ease and then disappear all together. When she was done she took a few steps back, studying her work. "All better" she mused and offered him a kind smile, she didn't wait for him to respond before she continued her walk in Winter. She left him standing there, clutching the horse reigns so tightly his fingernails had left marks in the palm of his hand.

He watched y/n until she vanished behind a tall pine tree, loosening a breath he turned and remounted his horse. The witch of winter was the first person in a very long time that showed the heir of Autumn any kindness, a kindness he would not forget.

[ervotica]

Hi! Can you do one with Eris x rhysand daughter reader where they're mates, but in a secret relationship?? Maybe they're getting kinda hot on Eris's throne, but then Rhys & Feyre enter the room and they're discovered?

𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐦𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧

pairing; high lord!eris vanserra x fem!reader

summary; being the high lord of the night court's daughter is feat unto itself. when combined with being the mate of the high lord of autumn, it becomes almost impossible to navigate. you've been keeping your mateship with eris under wraps for a year. on a visit to the autumn court, rhysand unwittingly walks in on the two of you, and all hell breaks loose.

warnings; smut themes (18+ only, as always), ANGST, rhys is very mean in this i'm sorry i made him the bad guy, family issues, eris is sexy and also the love of my life

word count; 2.2k

a/n; wow the daddy issues rly popped off w this one ngl. just to clarify, i really do love rhys with my whole entire heart but i had to villianise someone for the sake of the plot. so enjoy this mess.

The intensity with which Eris surveys you is searing.

Not a new development - of course - but no matter how many times those amber eyes rake the length of your body, the molten honey of them burning into a deep russet as his pupils engulf his irises, it sets your insides ablaze with need.

You're perched atop his throne, clad in a gown of deep red with slits that slip down to reveal your bare thighs as you cross one leg atop the other. You certainly look the part of the Autumn Court.

He wants to devour you whole.

Your thighs part just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the scant fabric that barely covers your dripping pussy, and you watch the way that his eyelids drop, gaze darkening to something primal as the scent of your arousal encases his senses.

"Sit back for me, fawn," he murmurs as he stalks up the steps that land at your feet. Your muscles seize in waiting as you suck your bottom lip into your mouth to suppress a coy smile. His palms slip beneath the silk of your dress, hiking the fabric further to reveal miles of bare skin that only he's privy to. You go soft like prey when thick fingers peel themselves from your skin to curl around your throat, a thumb pressing into the dip beneath your chin.

"Eris," you murmur. He coos, nipping at your earlobe.

"I know, my love. Needy little thing, aren't you."

Gods, you love it when he gets like this. The lust drives him mad–it's like he can't stop the dirty things that fall from his lips. Each word makes you wetter, has you squirming in your seat, begging for the sweet release you know he's bound to grant you– after he's had his way with you, of course.

His nose grazes at your cheekbone, breath hot against your prickling skin.

"Please," you whisper.

His grin is positively feline as his pointed canines protrude to scrape at the curve of your jaw. "All you had to do was ask."

And then his lips are slanting hungrily over your own, a palm curving around your waist to anchor your body to his own as he kisses the breath from your lungs. Your thighs part, granting him access to step between them and press himself flush to your chest; his fingers loop loosely around your wrist to guide your hand between his own legs. You gasp into his mouth and his tongue scrapes against the back of your teeth as you squeeze the hot, hard length of him, revelling in the way he ruts into your open palm. Your chest heaves as he growls lowly against your lips.

"This is what you do to me, fawn. I've wanted to rip this dress from your body and devour you since you stepped through the front doors."

You keen, head tipping back to bare your throat for him. Surrendering completely. Pleasure thrums through your veins when his lips trail down to latch against the soft skin you've exposed for him.

This male is your undoing.

His hand resumes creeping its way up your dress, the tip of his thumb pressing to your swollen clit through the damp fabric of your underwear. You moan softly, a sound that he swallows with his open mouth against yours and then chases, rubbing tight circles into the bundle of nerves until you're arching into his touch, lifting off of the throne to crush every inch of your body against his own.

His touch is dizzying, and you're so consumed by the feel of him against you that you almost don't hear the double doors to the throne room creak open. There's a bang as they fall shut behind the visitor, and it's loud enough to have you startling where you sit.

"I'm busy," Eris growls, his forehead still pressed to yours.

"This can't wait, I'm afraid," Rhys drawls. Your blood turns to ice in your veins, any and all arousal effectively dying as soon as your father's voice echoes against the stone walls.

"Oh, shit," you mumble. "We're going to actually die."

Eris pinches your chin between a thumb and forefinger affectionally, flooding the bond with as much warmth and encouragement as he can muster before his head turns, and you bury your face into the juncture of his neck in an effort to hide.

"If you'd be so kind as to escort the lady out, Eris." Rhys picks at the cuffs of his black jacket, brow quirking when neither of you make any effort to move.

"She's fine right here," he replies, clipped.

Your father's nose wrinkles in disdain as he strides for the steps, and your breath catches in your throat when he reaches the edge of the marble floor.

"What is this?" he asks, folding arms over his chest. "You really want your latest escapade present for this meeting?"

Eris' soft eyes harden, ablaze with a fury you've often seen but never been in the direct line of.

"You leave her out of this."

Rhys scoffs. "Don't tell me you've gone soft, High Lord." His tone is scathing, dripping with sarcastic venom.

Eris rises to the insult, shoulders squaring as he straightens to his full height. And it's then, and only then, that your father catches a glimpse of your stricken face, lips parted into a gasp as Eris stares him down.

You go still behind the High Lord of Autumn, pushing your body upright against the throne and willing yourself to simply sink into the chair and cease to exist. Of course, fate has never been in your favour.

"My daughter?" Rhys bellows. "You're fucking my daughter?" His voice bounces off of the stone that encases every inch of the room, and you wince as his violet eyes meet your own.

"It's not like that," you murmur; Eris is torn between focusing his attention on you or Rhys, even as you desperately try to soothe him through the bond as he did for you just minutes ago.

"What is it like then, baby?" Rhys condescends to you. "Don't tell me you love him, now." He spits the words with such hate that you're positive a slap would hurt less. "You are nothing to him, do you not understand that? He will use you and discard you and not think twice about it and I will be left to pick up the pieces because you are too fucking stupid to see that!"

You're sure that your heart ceases to beat when your father finishes speaking, becoming this cold, unmoving thing that weighs down your chest until you struggle for breath. Your father's chest heaves with a simmering rage that has always terrified you, and it makes your body coil tight with a silent sob; you continue to stare him down, eyes narrowed in an attempt to push the tears stinging your waterline back. Eris turns his back on Rhys then, surging forward to kiss the droplets away, smoothing the hair at the crown of your skull down.

"You are so cruel." is all you say.

"I'm telling you the truth," he spits. Your body snaps up at his words and you stand on shaking legs to plant yourself in front of Eris like a shield. The redhead settles his hands on your shoulders, his touch grounding as he directs his next words at Rhys, his voice like death incarnate.

"Apologise to my mate."

Your father blanches at the words, staggering back a step.

"Your what?"

"My mate," he repeats, voice quiet with the anger that coils tightly inside of him. The outrage at the way your own father deigns appropriate to speak to you. "Apologise to her. Now."

Rhys exhales, shuddering when he turns his gaze back to you.

"I expected better from you."

White-hot fire licks at your insides as you survey the disgust that curls your father's lip, the way his eyes flicker down to where Eris holds your emotions steady with his touch alone. You're overcome with the need to protect your mate, even if it means tearing your own flesh and blood apart with claws and teeth and poisoned words.

"You don't know the first fucking thing about him," you spit, willing your voice to stay steady. You won't give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

"So tell me, sweetheart." Rhys doubles down.

"Why do you do this?" you sigh, some of the tension in your muscles loosing when Eris steps forward another inch to press his chest to your back, no doubt delivering a deathly stare over your head. "Every time I find something that makes me happy, you ruin it. He makes me happy. Why can't you see that?"

"I never thought you'd be this naive. I'm ashamed to call you my daughter."

You stumble backwards, willing yourself to stay upright even as Eris' hand grasps you by the waist and anchors you to him. You breathe, in and out, forcing the acrid air into your lungs even as you want nothing more than to lay on the floor beneath you and sob. He might as well have hit you.

"You've always been ashamed to call me your daughter," you hiss through gritted teeth. "I've never been enough for you, no matter how hard I trained or how much work I threw myself into, I was always the disappointment. And now I find someone that loves me, that supports me and wants me to be happy, and you want to rip that away, too? It's not fair!"

"That's not true," he says, though his stance falters. The mask slips and it bares the fear that lies underneath the cold exterior.

"That's enough." Eris' voice cuts through the stark silence like a blade. "You will apologise or you will leave, Rhysand."

He murmurs crooning apologies against your ear when you turn to tuck yourself into him, tears hot and fast against your cheeks that flare with heat in the wake of your admission. You feel as though you've been stripped bare before him, every vulnerability dragged to the surface against your best efforts to bury them. Your head tips back, glossy eyes meeting his and finding nothing but unbridled adoration in his gaze. He accepts you, scars and all.

"It's okay, fawn," he whispers. "It's okay. I love you."

You nod fervently, lashes drooping with the weight of your tears when he cradles your cheek and presses a kiss between your brows. His face rises to your father once more.

"If you'd like to keep your alliance with this court, you'd do well to apologise." His voice is rough and rasping with your pain but still leaves no room for argument. "(Y/N) is my mate, and soon she will be my wife and High Lady of Autumn. And I will not tolerate you speaking to her in this manner."

You steel yourself to turn and wobble down the steps to stand face-to-face with your father. You gaze up at him through tear-soaked lashes and the sight pulls at something uncomfortable inside of him. It's how you've looked at him for two hundred years– the longing in your eyes for him to accept you, the unyielding need for him to be proud. He never bothered to decipher what it meant. It's all too clear now.

"I will be leaving Velaris," you tell him, scrunching your nose in the same way your mother does when she's upset. It nearly sends him reeling. "If you never want to see me again, that is your decision to make. But my loyalty lies with my mate."

His lips part and then close as though he wants to say something. You internally plead for it. Say something, you think. Anything.

"I'm sorry that I disappointed you," you continue on despite his silence. "Everything I ever did was to make you proud and it wasn't enough. But I'm done ripping myself apart for your approval."

He watches your lips downturn into a frown, the crease that works its way into your brow the one he's been pressing kisses to and smoothing over for your entire life.

It's as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders as you pass the burden you've been carrying to him before you're striding back up those steps, more confident than he's ever seen you.

You walk into Eris' open arms and smile, your face resting comfortably in the hollow of his neck as you breathe him in.

You don't look back when Rhys walks out of the throne room, the heavy wooden doors thudding closed in his wake.

"I'm sorry, my love," Eris murmurs.

"I'm not." You tilt your head to watch him, bringing up a hand to trace the contours of his features. You drag lazy knuckles over the edge of his cheekbones. "I have you."

A smirk cracks your stoic features and he stifles an amused grin at the question he knows is coming.

"So, High Lady, huh?"

He rocks you in his arms, nuzzling his cheek against yours and marvelling at the way you so naturally fit together. His true mirror, his equal in every way. You preen happily at the contact.

"Anything for you."

"Anything?"

"Within reason, fawn," he chides. You roll your eyes playfully.

"I was merely going to suggest we should pick up where we left off, my dear." Your hand glides the length of his body, circling teasingly around his hardening cock before veering away. He grunts, head tipping forward to rest against your shoulder.

"How could I ever say no to that?"

[harrystylesfan2686]

Alone Part 2 (Alternative Ending)

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: Reader finally finds someone who cares for her but at what cost...

Warnings: Minor Mention of self harm

A/N: Surprise😏

Masterlist Part 1

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It has been three days since your last mission, the very mission that got you hurt and made you realize just how fucked your head is. Three days since you left the fight that left you with a big tear at your waist which will most definitely leave a scar.

It's half healed already, so is the cut you gave yourself but you didn't realize how deep you hurt yourself because it's left a thin white line that's fully healed but can be easily recognized.

You shift on your feet from where you're standing beside the rest of inner circle. You are at the high lords meeting, accompanying your High Lord and High Lady.

You keep moving your weight from one foot to another because the pressure keeps causing pain in your waist. You can't wait for this to be over.

When you get a chance to leave you take it, running of the the nearest restroom you can find. You take off your fight leathers to find out you bled through your bandaid. You rub your hands over your head trying to think of a way you can hide your injury from everyone.

"Well, what do we have here." A voice fills the room, one that you know oh so well. He always does this, annoy you or talk to you every chance he gets. You don't know why but you put up with him everytime too. You practically hear the smirk in his words as you complaint to the Mother for putting you in this situation right now.

"Go away, Eris." You hope for him to take the hint and leave you alone but you, too, know that it's too late considering you can clearly smell you blood in the room, and so can he.

He crosses the room in just a few strides and puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you around with surprising gentleness. He sees the blood on you shirt that's seeped out of your bandaid and intakes a sharp breath.

"Left up your shirt." You are taken a back at his order. Mouth opened agaped as you see anger swirling in his amber eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"Y/N, If you don't lift your shirt up in the next minute, I'm going to rip it off of you." He practically growls. Your eyes widen and he raises his eyebrows, daring you to question him.

After a minute of silence, he raises his hands to your shirt and you take a step back,"Alright! I'll do it!" His eyes narrow and you sigh, lifting you shirt for his to see the scarlet bandage.

"Who did this to you?" His hands clench into fists.

"No one. It's nothing." You sigh.

"Was it an enemy?" You shake your head. "Who was it?" You shut your mouth and look away. Eris' eyes widen in realisation. "Was it them?" He spits in anger. You look back at him and your lack of answer in enough for him.

"I'm going to kill them." His body radiates pury fury as he steps away from you and starts walking towards the bathroom door.

"Eris!" You run to step in front of him, blocking the door and putting your hands against his chest, gasping because of the movement causing sudden pain to your waist. Eris immediately wraps an arm around you waist and searches you for any other cause of pain.

"Are you crazy?" You exclaimed.

"No. I'm fucking angry that the people who are your apparent family, who are supposed to protect you, hurt you. And I intent on hurting them just as much."

"Eris, you're going to start a war! And that's not even the point. They didn't hurt me alright, at least not physically. I went on a mission a few days ago and got hurt, they had nothing to do with it. They don't even know I'm hurt, for gods' sake." But that doesn't seem to calm him.

"What do you mean they didn't hurt you physically? And how the hell do they not know you've been hurt since days?" It seems like his rage just amplifies.

"I just didn't tell them alright?"

"They should've checked you for injuries the second you came back from the mission and they didnt care enough to do that. And what kind mission leaves your entire waist fucking open?!" He puts a hand behind your neck.

"Why are you acting like this? Why do you care if they care?" You don't notice you close proximity because you are so shocked from the way he's reacting.

"Because I care about you!" You intake a sharp breath. "What?"

"I care. I care for you. I always have." He looks into your eyes with so much honesty that it leaves you speechless.

"I care for you so deeply. I always have, and I thought you would figure that out yourself because of the way I talk to you. Why do you think I only talk to you. Why take every chance I can have to hear to speak to me, to hear your voice, doesn't matter if you're bitter.

I take every chance I can get to have your attention because I care for you. I do not know why, but I do and im not ashamed of it. I know you don't care for me the same way but I don't care, I'll take every second of your time that you'll give me."

What are you hearing? Someone truly cares for you? This isn't true. It must be a joke. It has to be. This is no way that Eris Vanserra cares for you. He cares for no one. Everybody know that.

So then why are you believing him, believing his words, clinging to them for dear life. If this truly is a prank, if what he is saying wasnt true, you don't think you'll survive. You won't survive another Heartbreak. But something tells you that he isn't lying, that he is telling the truth, that he truly, genuinely cares for you. Something deep in your heart tells you that he might truly love you.

You gasp when you feel it. Feel everything click into place. Feel the second everything in you life finally makes sense.

"You feel it now, don't you?" His voice soft as a tug feels on your heart. Your breath heavy as you look at him in the eyes, feeling the thin golden string connecting your souls to one another.

"So leave them." He pleads.

"Why are you doing this, my love? Who are you doing this for? They don't care about you." His hand on your cheek, swiping back and forth softly while the other hugs your waist, pushing you flush against him. "I do. I care about you so much and I refuse to see you hurt yourself for people who don't value your existence." He puts his forehead to yours.

"Leave them, come with me to Autum Court and I will treat you like the queen you are. And even if you don't want to come with me it's alright, just leave them. Please." His voice cracks with your heart, taking a piece of it with him daring not to return. You don't want him to.

"Okay. I'll come with you." Tears fall down your face as his breaks into a smile. "Really?" His voice unsure.

"Yeah, I'll leave Valaris, leave them. I'll come with you." You smile genuinely after a long time and he sighs in relief.

His lips slam to yours and you both lose yourselves in the kiss. You smile into his lips, finally happy to have found someone who cares for you enough to threaten to go into war for you.

You finally found your person and you will never let him go.

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[throneofsmut]

BOUND IN FLAMES: MASTERLIST

Eris Vanserra × Archeron-Sister- Reader

Description: Feyre and her younger sister go hunting in the forest behind their family's cottage and go through life changing experiences.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11 (updated 4-14-24)

Part 12 ( coming soon )

( I have 12 parts planned out so far but i'm pretty sure it'll be more. I'll update it as I go. )

[redbleedingrose]

that baby girl Lucy thing could be a drabble or headcanon or whatever ur comfortable with btw 😁 or you don’t have to do anything at all with it if u don’t want! just wanted to mention it bc GIRL DAD ERIS

GIRL DAD!ERIS AND LUCIEN RECONCILLING PART 2

A/N: OKAY YES I AM SO SORRY I GOT BUSY WITH MED SCHOOL, HAD A SHELF EXAM TO TAKE AND THEN I GOT LAZY BUT IT IS HERE!

Edit: So I started writing and realized this is getting a bit long, like I am not done with this part and I am already 2.2k word in, so this will likely be a 3 or 4 part mini-series giving y'all girl dad!Eris lore! I hope you enjoy and I am sorry I had to split it up, but it seems like I had more to this story I wanted to share!

part 1

Your first letter remains unopened, buried beneath legal documents and trade deals in a locked drawer of Lucien's desk. Each week, another one of your letters is added to the ever growing pile that Lucien can't bring himself to open.

Part of him wants to rip all your attempts of communication to shreds, throw it into the fire place and forget that you and Eris exist.

The other part of him, the one that he tries to bury deep within himself, is curious, anxious really, to know what it is you have to say to him. What is it that you continue to reach out to him?

Is it a part your duty as high lady of autumn? Are you looking to start relations between Autumn and Day? Are you trying to keep your relationship to your brother in law as professional as possible? What if you are trying to get to know him? Would that be the worst thing in the world, to get to know his sister in law? He has always wanted a sister.

What if you are writing out of need? For help? What if you need asylum from his brother? Gods, he hopes not. What if Eris turned out to be the exactly like his father, cruel and abusive in his marriage to you? What if he, like Beron, was ruining Autumn court with outrageous regulations and taxes too high that  most of the autumn population were left in poverty?

What if you were writing to him to brag about how well Eris has done without him, that this is the only way he will receive any updates on Eris, and to not expect anything more?

What if you are lovely and kind? What are you like? Are you good to Eris? Is he good to you? Do you make his oldest brother happy? Does he make you happy? What is Eris like now? Has he changed or is he the same paranoid male who plots conspiracies?

The lack of response from your brother in law does little to defer your efforts. You continue to write to Lucien, without skipping a beat, sending a letter to him every week, giving him updates on his brother, updates on your pregnancy, even updates on the pups Eris is raising to protect your babes in the coming months. You share with him your feelings about Eris, the story of how you met, how your mating bond had snapped abruptly and without notice, how he fought against your relationship for years until he couldn't hold back anymore, how when he finally gave in, he had made you the promise of a safer home, a safer land, a place in which his father could never lay a hand on you.

You confide in him your concerns over his brother, your fears that his duties as high lord will consume him, that Eris has anxieties about being a good father, and you are scared it will paralyze him. You tell him about the things you notice about Eris, things you think Eris doesn't know about himself. That, sometimes, Er will get a distant look in his eyes when he sees young children playing together, especially when one looks older than the other. That, sometimes, Er mumbles in his sleep, how often his name comes up while he is asleep, how Er wakes up from those same dreams gasping and clutching at his chest, how it takes hours for you to calm him after. How when Eris struggles to sleep, he stares at the family portrait, with his eyes fixated on Lucien before he comes back to bed with you at your urging.

You write to him as if he is your best friend, as if he is sitting across from you and you are just talking to him. You write to him as if you have known him for centuries.

With all of Eris' stories about his beloved brother, you feel as though you have known him for centuries. 

It takes a long time for Lucien to muster the courage to open your letters. After weeks of receiving letters and storing them away without a second glance, after weeks of forcing any thoughts of the letters away, after weeks of catching himself thinking about Eris, thinking about you and Autumn court, does he finally force himself sit down to read the letters. To be done and over with it. To read the letters, and never think of you or his brother again. To give closure to that horrific chapter of his life. To have this as his final goodbye.

It takes him several minutes to unlock the drawer after he slumps into his chair by the desk. It takes him a couple of minutes to open the drawer before staring at all the papers on top of the letters. It takes him 20 minutes to pluck the letters out from beneath and toss them onto his desk. Another 30 minutes is spent of him grabbing the letters and setting it onto the side table near his hearth, pacing around his office, biting at his nails, wringing his hands, running his fingers through his long auburn hair to sit in his cozy leather chair with the letters at an arms-length. An hour is spent staring blankly into the near extinguished fire, the pops and crackles from the desperate surviving flames being the only times he blinks. Another 10 minutes of delay, spent with breathing exercises while pouring himself a two, maybe three, fingers of night court imported whiskey and taking several bated sips of the hard liquor.

After almost two hours of delay, does Lucien use the letter opener the night court general gifted him during a visiting trip, to slowly and carefully, with shaking hands, tear the seal open. Deep breathing does little to stop his pittering heart as he opens the first letter, glazed eyes racing over each sentence, each word multiple times, nearly seizing as you break the news of your pregnancy. Tears he didn’t even know were leaking down his cheeks, meeting at his chin to drip down his neck began to stream. Choked sobs with a hand clutched at his chest, your letter delicately being placed to the side as his emotions crash into him.

Weeks of pent up feelings become unrelenting waves that makes it near impossible for him to catch his breath. All of grief for the time he has missed with you and his brother, all of happiness at your pride and clear love and devotion for your mate, his brother, all of sorrow and concern for what Eris turned out to be after years of torment and unrelenting abuse, all of quiet hope for the future relationship he may have with you, with his future nieces or nephews, with his older brother, all of that is almost unbearably overwhelming. The only source of respite, coming from your gentle handwriting.

“Lucien, I implore you to take all the time you need. I will patiently be waiting for a response, whether it takes weeks or months, years or even centuries. I want a relationship with you. As does your brother. And I want our children to have a relationship with their uncle. So I will wait. And if you decide that having a relationship with us is just too impossibly painful for you, then with the deepest regret and with the most profound love, will we accept that fate as well.” 

It is your own hope that pushes Lucien to read all of your other letters, whiskey set aside and forgotten. Letters that have his bereaved sobs turning into silent tears of joy. Letters that have him bubbling with laughter as you express your loving annoyance at Eris’ puttering about the nursery and his great insistence that your future babes will need 15 chicks, and at least 6 baby cows to grow up with.

Letters that have him smiling softly, reminiscing in the good memories of his childhood Eris whispered to you in the dark recesses of night. Letters that have him pondering if what you say is really the truth, because you give a convincing argument that his older brother may actually miss him, may have actually loved him… still loves him. Letters that give him insight into all the years he missed, that he now almost feels a part of, like he was actually there to witness all of the events surrounding your relationship and Eris’ ascension to the autumn throne. Lucien spends hours, even as the fire in the office gives way to death and the only remaining source of light becomes Lucien’s own magic pulsating through the room, reading your letters. Over and over, in the order it was sent in and in backwards order. And by the end of it, he is speechless. 

No words come to mind that can describe how he feels. He cannot come up with what to say. The only thing he knows is that he is appreciative for the time and patience that you have given him, the grace that you have shown, the honesty of the hardships that you and Eris went through, of the relationship you have formed with his brother, and of all the changes Er has gone through and has brought to Autumn Court since his escape. So, Lucien folds your letters following the exact lines you used, making sure not even a slight crease is created, before carefully placing back into the envelopes you sent them in, holding them to his chest as he walks to his room and retires for the night. Sleep, however, the trickster it is, plays the most exhausting game and evades him most of the night. His usual tossing and turning is replaced with his ember eyes focused on the letters, hands clasped tightly together resting on his chest because his fingers kept twitching with want to reach back for your messages to reread them. Lucien’s thoughts are wildly free of the endless possibilities of what might come in the future… a happy future. 

Days were spent rereading your letters. Days were spent stressing out over what to do, he never had a choice when it came to his family. All things were inevitably decided for him. He was brought up to be competitive with his brothers, it was decided that he would have to fight his brothers for the autumn throne, a throne he had no desire of having. It was decided what kind of training he got, despite his lack of interest in violence. He didn’t choose to leave Autumn, he barely escaped with his life. He didn’t choose this. Having a choice… it was a delicacy he hadn’t been offered before.

Lucien knew though. Deep down inside, he knew what he wanted to choose. Going back and forth with his options inevitably landed on one outcome. He wants to try. He wants to get to know you, a sister he always wanted and now, finally has. He wants to get to know his future nieces or nephews. He wants to be a part of their lives; he wants to be the best uncle he can be. And he so achingly wants to know his older brother, wants to know his side of the story, wants to know if he was wrong to blame him for everything. It is alarming. The prospect of it all. It’s… fully… wholly… thoroughly and completely terrifying. 

What if he was wrong about it all? What if he spent decades… centuries hating his own brother… someone who should’ve been blameless? Would Eris forgive him for it? What if he comes to the conclusion Eris didn’t try hard enough? Could he forgive Eris, a crimeless, unwilling accomplice in the murder of Jes? What if Eris is uninterested after a near lifetime of rejection? How will they build their relationship, beyond what it ever was? What if, even after all of that, he ends up alone? Was it worth it?

Was the hurt, the fear, the hope… was it worth it?

It took another month of Lucien’s contemplation to come up with a response, not for lack of trying. He had so many thoughts, so many feelings and emotions regarding his brother, his past, his future, you as his new sister in law, the fact that he is going to be an uncle, to work through, that he is still working through. He is afraid, afraid of what he has missed with Eris, afraid of what or who Eris has become. But one thing about the Vanserra brothers is that they have a burning courage within them. So despite the fear, he wants more. He wants to try. Every time he sits down to muster an acknowledgement to your letters, though, he chokes up. 

A ball of anxiety runs rampant through his stomach, a knot in his throat that he can’t seem to swallow, that he can't seem to clear even with a rough rub at his neck. His hands quake as he readjusts the pen in his hands, over and over, feeling pins and needles at the tips of his fingers as he tries to figure out the words to respond with. Your letters had so much thought, so much effort and sentiment and zest poured into them. And all of the thoughts and feelings he had during the time he took, it seemed… inadequate. A simple letter… it wouldn’t be enough. Not with all the things Lucien wants to say to you and eventually… to Eris as well. Finally, after staring at the blank sheet placed in front of him, sweaty hands rubbing furiously up and down his thighs, does he figure it out. 

So… with a shaky inhale, he brings his pen to the page. 

Hello dear sister,

I apologize for my delay in responding. If I am being honest, I spent a lot of time, quite a lot indeed, thinking of your letters. Thinking of you. Thinking of my brother Eris the Autumn High Lord. Thinking of the past. Thinking of the future. One letter to tell you all of my thoughts in response to your attempts of communication feel woefully insufficient. 

If you are ever so inclined, would you be open to meeting with me? I understand that your pregnancy condition may make it difficult upon you to travel to Day. I’m happy to I am set to be in Spring Court for two weeks from now for a week. Would you be willing able to meet at the border in three weeks time? 

with warm wishes,

regards, 

Lucien Vanserra

[erisweekofficial]

Hello, Eris fans! We're back! 🔥

Last year's Eris week was a huge success, so we're looking forward to keeping up that energy in 2024. Are you? 👀

As usual, we’ll be getting ready for the event by: 

💬 Prompt Submissions <- (closed)

🎨 Creator Highlights Nominations

🎙️ Creator Highlights + Interviews

🖼️ Showcasing 2023's content!

😉 And of course...several fun little surprises

Keep an eye out for our posts (#erisweek2024), tell your friends, and check out the other amazing events highlighted by @maased-out.

[lyssasdrafts]

— AFTERGLOW (azriel x reader)

002: “ i pinned your hands behind your back. ”

masterlist previous next

‼️‼️written portion below the cut ‼️‼️

“y/n,” an unfortunately familiar voice startles you.

your stomach drops as you look up to see eris standing over you, pulling himself a chair up to your table. he looks down at your order, a laté that you had requested with a cat design, and chuckles to himself about it. “pleasure to run into you here.”

“listen,” he starts to do that thing where he curls his lip when he talks to you, almost smirking. “i’m sorry about that last time.”

you try to avoid looking him in the eyes but he insists on staring right at you, sitting still without flinching. you look down at that same cup of coffee that he had just laughed at, knowing that he would probably make some comment on how it was childish of you.

“it’s fine… eris,” you say quietly. “i just really don’t understand why you keep making excuses.”

“what can i say,” he takes a sip of his own drink, a black coffee that he specifically requested without any milk, before resuming, “i’m a busy man.”

you’re distracted by a tap on your shoulder and turn around to see a taller man in the same barista uniform as lucien. he must’ve been new here, you think. you hadn’t recognized them having a new barista with that dark hair. if you met him anywhere else, you might’ve even thought he was intimidating with the way his gaze was aimed at eris.

“sorry to interrupt,” he says. “is he bothering you?”

the expression is completely lost from the ginger man’s face. “no,” eris says. “actually, i was just leaving.” he begins to push himself off the chair. he stops in his tracks though and turns around to face you again, “wait, y/n, do you know this guy?”

you look to the barista, who quietly nodded, this stranger giving you a look of approval. “yes…” you lie. “he’s my date. i told him to meet me here after his shift.”

you watch as eris’ mouth drops a little. “that’s… nice.” he says bluntly before leaving.

“i’m so sorry for that,” you groan as this new barista simply laughs a little.

“don’t worry about it,” he says. “you seemed really uncomfortable back there. and you’re a friend of lucien’s right? he mentioned something about you coming today.” you nod before he continues, “i actually just started here… so i guess i’m always willing to help any friend of my manager. i’m azriel, by the way.”

— NOTES

lucien being at the center of all the drama 😭 eris also ends up confronting him on why y/n was there

random but do you guys like “erizzed” as a username bc i thought it was kinda funny <3

i made my friend who hasn’t read acotar and has no context proof read this and she said she thought eris was hot until finding out he’s a ginger LMAO

— TAGLIST

@ithan-holstroms-girl @strangelycami @fell-in-luvs @goldenmagnolias @glam-targaryen @acourtofdreamsandshadows taglist is open!! lmk if you want to be added

[dawneternal]

The Benevolent | Eris x Healer OC | one

☁︎ summary: The Lady of Autumn hires a healer behind Beron's back. Sworn to secrecy, the healer helps Eris when he is punished by his father and forbidden to see a healer from their court. Eris did not expect to find himself growing attached. He comes to realize that he may know plenty about sacrifice, but he has a lot to learn about choosing to live for the ones you love.

☁︎ notes: let me know how you feel about the order of this chapter. I felt like it didn't read the same to have that last scene at the beginning, but if it's confusing I will change it:)

☁︎ warnings: descriptions of wounds and blood, talk of physical abuse, implied domestic violence

☁︎ word count: 2.8k

☁︎ AO3 Link // Masterlist

“Hurry,” Lady Edana hissed, a sound like pinching a candle flame. It echoed in the quiet, the only sound in the dark hallway.

The silence was so immense it seemed to roar. Every hall and passage was empty and utterly dark. Aya would have thought every court had secrets veiled by this hour between night and morning. But there was no sign of life in the Forest House.

And yet, Lady Edana led the way with a knife in her hand, poised to attack. It was not even a hunting knife or one of the jeweled daggers gifted to young boys of the court. Just a knife, likely stolen from the kitchens or even the dinner table. Aya had to wonder if it was the only weapon Lady Edana had access to.

To her credit, she held it like a fighter, blade pointed down and out so she could still strike if pinned. In her other hand she held her shoes, her stocking feet making no sound as she shuffled across the stone floor. Urgency radiated from her. If it were visible, it would have given her a corona. An aura of flames.

They came to another corner and the Lady tugged Aya against the wall before peering around the corner. She deemed it safe and pulled the healer after her. One last eerie hallway and then they stopped at a large wooden door. Lady Edana fished a chain of keys from its place tucked into her bodice and unlocked the door. It opened without a sound, like the hinges had been oiled or silenced with magic.

The lady snapped and the fae lights came to life in their sconces, revealing the heir of Autumn laying face down on a large bed, bleeding profusely into silk green sheets.

Aya had been warned of his condition but it still sent a jolt through her. He was so still, his red hair stark against pale skin and moss colored bedding. His mother tossed her knife onto the side table and knelt by the bed.

“Eris,” She whispered, her face nearly as pale as his, “Are you awake?”

“Mother,” He croaked. Something in Aya’s chest twisted at the utter brokenness of his voice. It hurt more than looking at the torn up flesh of his back.

“I brought a healer,” She said, beckoning to Aya.

“Mother,” He said again, reprimanding. Pleading.

“I will take care of everything.” She stepped back to let the healer take her place, disappearing into the washroom to fetch water. Eris’s eyes, surprisingly alert, locked onto Aya’s face. They roamed over her features, assessing.

“Worry not,” Aya whispered, unable to resist the urge to brush back a strand of copper hair. She understood the urgency now, as her gaze flickered to the blood pooling around his body.

His eyes softened at her touch, chin trembling like he was a thread away from shattering. So she took her hand away from his forehead, hovering it over his injuries instead. He flinched and she closed her eyes so he would not see the anger in them. The anger at whoever had done this. He needed tenderness and she would give it.

Aya reached into the spring of power within her and willed it to the surface. Willed it to pour from her fingertips into his being and soothe the pain. She urged the bleeding to slow to a stop, for his body to numb enough that she could clean his wounds before the true healing began. She felt his energy begin to pull away, lulled by sleep.

When she opened her eyes she saw that his own had closed, his breathing deep and even.

“You are as talented as the High Lord said,” Lady Edana whispered from beside her. She held a pitcher of water and an arm full of towels.

Aya stared at the mess, wondering where to begin. Even with all her doubts and wariness, she had not pictured an injury this severe when she accepted this position. She had known to expect the sneaking and the secrecy, but not to be led to Eris’s deathbed.

It did not help her uneasiness in the slightest when the lady said, as she mopped up her son’s blood, “Whatever we can’t get clean by morning, just throw into the fireplace. We’ll have to burn it all.”

It was a long moment before Aya said anything. Perhaps it was a risk to ask questions, but Eris’s blood coating her hands felt like justification enough.

“Why?” She murmured, keeping her eyes on the work before her. Lady Edana took her own time answering, lips pursed as she dabbed at the prince’s back.

“The High Lord forbade Eris from seeing a healer. It is part of his punishment.”

“So that is why the job was a secret,” Aya said quietly. They still avoided each other’s gaze.

“Yes.”

“What is the prince being punished for?” Another risky question, but Lady Edana seemed to think her questions were deserved, too. Or maybe she just wanted Aya to understand. From this perspective, dishonesty seemed to be built into the foundation of the Autumn Court.

“He visited the Winter Court without telling his father first. His father wanted to know why. And decided that Eris must be granted permission to leave the court borders.”

Aya clenched her jaw, looking back at the deep wounds on Eris’s back. No doubt from a whip or a belt. They would leave deep scars, and would have easily become infected without a healer. Though that seemed to be what Beron wanted. She decided not to ask what Eris was doing in the Winter Court.

“Beron will be called away first thing in the morning,” The Lady continued, “Not that he would have checked on Eris, anyways. But you will be long gone before he wakes, just in case.”

Aya wondered for a moment how Beron would know that Eris had obeyed his order not to see a healer. And she realized with a sick feeling in her stomach that he had likely left the enforcement of that order to Edana. The entire structure relied on their fear. They would do what he said because they had to, to protect themselves and each other. So what would happen to Lady Edana if Beron knew what she had done? What would happen to Aya?

She looked down at the ring on her forefinger, the blood on it glimmering like a ruby. She wondered how much Thesan had known any of this. It didn’t matter now, anyways, since she was bound to Edana by that golden ring. And looking at Eris, his brows furrowed and skin shining with sweat, she knew it was all for him.

How often was he destroyed this way? Torn apart in mind and body, forbidden from being put back together? Often enough for Aya to be paid a monthly salary. A very handsome one. But perhaps that part truly had been to make sure she wouldn’t change her mind.

As if she had a choice, now.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Upon returning to the Dawn Court, Aya headed straight for the throne room. She did not bother to change first, her clothes still covered in ash and blood. Her whole body was stiff from sleeping on the floor and heavy from how little rest she had managed to get.

The mammoth wooden doors opened before her, revealing Thesan and a few of his councilors lounging near the throne. Their easy laughter rose into the air, dancing with the cool breeze. The open archways of the throne room showed the pastel skies and fluffy clouds around them.

It was such a stark contrast to the last hours of her life, dimly lit and painted in the dark tones of the Autumn Court. It blew a puff of air into the fire burning in her chest.

Thesan’s brows rose as his gaze landed on her, jaw clenched and eyes blazing as she strode through the room.

“How much did you know about this job?” She demanded. The irreverence shook the High Lord more than her appearance. This was the way she spoke to her cousin, and not Thesan the High Lord. And never in front of others.

He asked the councilors for a moment, keeping his eyes on Aya as they scurried away. One dared to flash her a disdainful look and click his tongue. Aya ignored it.

“What was your question?” Thesan asked softly when they were alone.

“You told me this job would require discretion,” She said, her tone cooling a touch, “Did you know why?”

“Lady Edana requested a healer for personal matters,” He took a sip from his goblet, “I did not think it would be polite to inquire about the details.”

Aya shifted on her feet, her rage slowing to a halt. How delicate was this secret? Thesan could always be counted on for his discretion. But surely there were political implications that she didn’t know or understand. There always was, and figuring them out had never been one of her talents.

“Did you not ask the details before you accepted the job?” He pressed. His curiosity about the state of her clothes was rising into anxiety.

“I assumed the details. I thought maybe she was having age-related troubles. Or perhaps an affair.”

“And you were wrong,” Thesan prompted, “You are very troubled by whatever this secret is.”

“Yes,” Aya admitted, her shoulders drooping.

Thesan’s gaze flickered to the ring on her finger. If he was surprised to see it he did not let it show.

“You bound yourself to her?” His voice still smooth, collected.

“She said a physical contract would leave evidence.”

Thesan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not believe Edana to have particularly evil intentions, but she had played Aya like a piece in a game.

“Are you able to tell me this secret?” He sighed.

Aya considered the contract. It seemed that Thesan should be exempt from the secrecy. She would find out if she tried to say it out loud, anyways.

“Beron tortures his son for information,” Aya said, dropping her gaze to the marble floor. The heaviness of her body returned and she resisted the urge to let her wings rest on the ground.

“Lucien?” Thesan tilted his head to the side. He did not seem all that surprised.

“Eris,” She whispered, lifting her eyes to his. She knew he would see how haunted they were. Filled with imagery of her long night.

Thesan pursed his lips, his own eyes sparkling with anger. Many things clicked into place with this new information.

“And that is the secret?” He asked, “Beron mustn't know you heal Eris?”

“Yes,” She felt much smaller now, all of her fury laid out before Thesan, “He forbids him from seeing a healer. But he would have died if I wasn’t there.”

They did not speak of what this meant for Aya. The danger she would be in every time she stepped foot in the Autumn Court. It passed between them without words, the worry forming like storm clouds.

“I think I should speak to her,” Thesan rubbed his chin in thought.

“Please don-” Aya began, rushing forward to plead with him. He held up a hand to stop her.

“Worry not, little bird,” He soothed, “I will make sure you keep your job. I just want you to be safe. Now rest, I can see the weariness in your eyes.”

Her mind was far from settled, whirling with countless thoughts and worries. But Eris was well and her own safety was in Thesan’s hands now. That was enough. So she obeyed, gathering the energy to trudge back to her room and rest.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

“Thesan tells me you are looking for work experience outside of the Dawn Court,” Lady Edana took a sip of her tea, amber eyes locked on the girl in front of her.

The Lady of Autumn had requested to meet with Thesan’s best healer in training. In private, in a quiet place. Thesan did not see a good reason to deny her. And he knew that she worked hard to separate herself from her husband in any manner she could. He’d heard the whispered rumors and seen the bruises hiding just beneath the fine lace of her gowns. If he could help to enable her independence, he would.

“Yes, my Lady,” Aya nodded, resisting the urge to ring her hands, “It is the last requirement I need to complete my training.”

She was proud that Thesan had chosen her as the best of her class, but now she was nervous. Edana had come alone, save for one guard who loomed off to the side of the balcony. His eyes were fixed on the glass doors behind them, but Aya had no doubt he had been listening to the entire conversation. Which, up until then, had been all pleasantries and small talk. But now the Lady’s eyes were narrowed, her focus sharp. It sent a shiver through Aya’s feathers.

“There is a certain situation in my home that requires a healer with greater skill than my court can offer,” The Lady began, “And the position requires discretion. I cannot ensure that a healer from my court will not betray me.”

She paused, watching Aya and waiting for a reaction. Aya knew her brows had drawn together, but she willed all other emotion away.

“There are many distinguished healers in a court, my Lady,” Aya said slowly, “Surely you would want someone who has finished their training?”

“No one with a title,” Lady Edana pursed her lips.

Aya only nodded, feeling ever more confused. The lady’s secret was that salacious? Perhaps it would be wildly foolish to get wrapped up in this situation. But offers for work outside of the court did not come along very often for trainees. And Aya would be lying if she said she was not itching to experience something outside of the soft colors of Dawn.

“I would pay you a monthly salary,” The Lady tilted her head to the side, looking as if she knew exactly where the girl’s thoughts had gone, “You will receive the same amount no matter how many calls you receive in a month. Sometimes, I may call on you often. Other times I may not need your help for a long while.”

“You need not pay me if you don’t use my services,” Aya frowned. Many healers in training took positions without pay.

“I was hoping the salary may make the strange requirements worth their while.”

She named the amount and watched Aya’s eyes widen.

“So you need a healer on call to help with private matters. And I must keep the job a secret?” Aya clarified.

That did not sound so suspicious when summed up concisely. Or perhaps the money had dulled the warning signs. She had never let Thesan spoil her just because they were related. She insisted on living in the healer’s dorms and earning her own living like the rest of her class.

“That is correct,” Edana nodded.

“And I would be under contract?” Aya asked. Another common facet of training positions.

“Three years. And it would be through an Autumn Court bargain, and not written,” She said, still watching with those bird-like eyes. She would fit well into Dawn with all of those avine features.

“Very well,” Aya said, “But I would like a written copy of what the bargain entails.”

Edana’s lips twitched up into a smile that Aya couldn’t quite decipher.

“I will write it up and send it your way,” The Lady stood from her chair, “It should be in your hands by this time tomorrow.”

Lady Edana held out her hand. Aya told herself later that she should have been clever enough to wait before shaking hands. She should read that bargain first and study the details. But she did not think of that.

When the magic snapped she let out a yelp and snatched her hand back. Her forefinger was adorned with a simple golden band. She tried to twist it but it did not move, as if it were now a part of her.

“What is this?” She asked, incredulous, turning her hand as she examined the ring.

“A symbol of our contract,” Edana said, straight-faced as ever, “It is a tradition similar to the tattoos in the Night Court.”

Aya stared at it, the pit in her stomach growing larger. How she would be scolded for her oversight. She was certain a version of herself from the future was watching this conversation and screaming at her for being so foolish.

As all of this raged in her mind, she missed the flash of guilt in Edana’s eyes, quickly overtaken by something else. Something too desperate to be sorry.

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Reader

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: use of the nickname bunny

Based on THIS request.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

Gods, you were going to be in so much trouble. You kept your fast pace as you walked through the woods, keeping your eye out for anything, anything, that might help you. The only reason you even knew where you were was the red and golden leaves adorning the trees, the scent of cinnamon and rain hanging in the crisp air. Autumn. You were in the Autumn Court. 

You had just been practicing winnowing with Rhys, your brother-in-law. Since the war ended, the Inner Circle was finally spending more time helping you learn your magic. You had wanted to learn, to do more, ever since you had been turned fae, tossed in the cauldron like your sisters.

But being the youngest meant also having to take a back seat sometimes. Feyre and Nesta never let you do anything. Never let you help in any way. Not much changed after you had been turned fae. 

The sound of dogs howling made you pause in your tracks. You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. They could be farm dogs, it could mean that someone was nearby, someone who could help you. 

But you knew of the type of fae in the Autumn Court and it could also be someone who’d try to hurt you. You bit your lip, finally deciding to make a run for it as the howling got closer.

You took off down a line of trees, pushing yourself to run as fast as you could to create some distance between you and the pack of dogs. But a few stumbles over fallen branches and you could hear the pounding of their paws not far behind you. 

A bark had you looking over your shoulder, cursing as you saw the hounds close behind. They yelped with excitement as they caught sight of you, picking up their pace. 

Pain, awful, debilitating pain, rushed through your leg and you screamed, falling to the ground. You flipped yourself over to see your foot stuck in the claws of a bear trap, the metal prongs piercing through your skin. You cursed as you realized they must’ve been herding you here. 

You let out another cry as you forced yourself to sit up and scoot closer to the trap. The dogs were still running at you and you desperately tried to yank the trap apart, to free your foot. 

It was no use; the dogs were too fast. Faster than any dogs you’d ever encountered. You could do nothing but throw your arms over your face and scream, hoping someone would hear you before you were mauled to death by a pack of dogs. 

To your utter shock, the feeling of teeth ripping into your flesh never came. You slowly put your arms down to see twelve hounds running in a circle around you, yapping and howling into the air. Each one gray and sleek like smoke. 

Footsteps coming from behind you had you whipping around, eyes wide. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of a male. A very handsome male with silky red hair, whiskey amber eyes, and pale skin. He was tall, lithe, but he had the top three buttons of his shirt undone, giving you a glimpse of the muscles beneath. 

The cobalt coat he wore was finely crafted, along with his pants and shoes. The haughty expression on his face told you exactly who you were looking at—Eris, the Heir of Autumn.

You swallowed audibly as he smirked down at you, coming to a halt a few paces away. 

“Well what do we have here?” His voice was smooth like silk and it sent a shiver down your spine. 

You said nothing as he let out a sharp whistle and the hounds circling you halted before running to his side. They sat behind him like perfect little guards, their unusual eyes still on you. You looked back up at the male, who had just stumbled upon you, trapped. He walked around your form, much like his hounds had been doing. 

You couldn’t find any words. Mostly because of the pain of the bear trap ripping through your shin and foot. But also because you had only really ever heard horror stories about Eris—about his cruelty and cunning nature. 

Eris’s fox-like face smirked down at you in amusement. “My hounds seem to have herded a little bunny into one of my traps. Do you have a name, bunny?”

Should you tell him who you were? That you were one of the Archeron sisters, that you were from the Night Court? You knew briefly through listening in on Feyre’s conversations that they considered Eris an ally. But they also said he could hardly be trusted. 

“Does the little bunny not have a voice?” Eris purred, still circling around you like a predator playing with its food. “Hm, let me guess. The golden brown hair and the big, brown doe eyes that look incredibly similar to my brother’s mate’s…Have I trapped an Archeron?”

You used the sleeve of your dress to wipe at the tear tracks on your cheeks. You tried to back away from him, but the movement only jostled your leg, causing a small whimper to escape your throat. 

“I-I’m not sure how I ended up here, my Lord,” you mumbled. Gods, you felt pathetic. “Can you p-please help me?”

Eris tilted his head at you, in an animalistic way you still weren’t used to with the fae. He studied you for a moment before another smirk bloomed on his handsome fox-like face. He was picturesque with his disarming beauty.

“You see, I think this is all a bit unfair. You seem to know who I am, but you still haven’t told me your name, little bunny.” He knelt down next to you, reaching a gloved hand out to push some of your hair from your face. 

It should’ve alarmed you, his closeness, the touch of his hand. But for some reason, it didn’t. You swallowed again, considering your options. Maybe he would help you get home. 

“I’m one of Feyre’s sisters,” you managed to stutter out. 

“Is that so?” He seemed to be enjoying this. “And what is the name of the bunny I’ve managed to trap?” 

You mumbled your name out loud, glancing around the meadow you were in, at the hounds that were now all laying down, still staring at you. You blinked at them and the biggest one, the leader of the pack, stood suddenly. You kept your eyes trained on her as she marched over to you, shaking as you examined her large head, her jaw that could easily rip your throat out. 

But to your surprise, she merely meandered over to you and brushed her head against yours, letting out a low whine. Your eyes widened, looking over at Eris for a second to see a flicker of shock cross his face. The hound let out a small yip before licking the side of your face, drawing out a surprised giggle from you. Was she trying to…comfort you? 

“Ashera,” Eris said sternly with a snap of the fingers. But the hound merely glanced at him and then went back to nudging you with her fluffy head. 

You raised a shaky hand and stroked her back, bewildered by the dog's behavior. She licked you up the side of your face again and Eris said her name a little louder this time, making her ears twitch. She whined at him but listened, going back to the other dogs. 

“I didn’t know there was a fourth Archeron sister. Where have they been hiding you?” Eris asked, drawing your attention back to him. “And why?”

You shrugged your shoulders. Had they been hiding you? No one has ever mentioned keeping you a secret. “I-I don’t know.”

He waved a hand in the air, summoning a piece of parchment and pen. He quickly scribbled something on it before flicking it away. You watched it disappear with awe, still taken aback by the use of magic. 

Eris seemed to remember you were still stuck. He let out a sigh and placed his hands on both sides of the trap. He paused to look at you. “Sorry, little bunny, but this is going to hurt.”

And then he pulled the trap apart with his bare hands. You let out a loud cry as the metal spikes were pulled out of your leg. You whimpered, pulling your knee to your chest as you examined the damage to your shin. 

Blood was now gushing from the wounds that circled around your shin. You grabbed some of your skirt in your hand, intending to use it to put pressure on the wounds but Eris’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. 

“Don’t do that,” he hissed. “Are you dumb? Your skirt is covered in dirt and mud. You’ll only infect it.”

Your cheeks turned red with embarrassment. He reached a hand towards you but now free from the trap, you scrambled away from him with a whimper. He let out an amused chuckle.

“No need to be frightened, little bunny,” he purred. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You looked at him warily as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dangling it in the air between the two of you. You swallowed audibly but didn’t move as he approached again and wrapped it around your ankle as a makeshift gauze. 

He hummed, standing up and brushing invisible dirt from his pants. “Now, are you going to tell me why exactly an Archeron is in my court?”

“I was learning how to winnow. I-I don’t know how I ended up here. One minute I was in Velaris and then next, I was here.” 

He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Interesting. Well, come on. Let’s get to Spring so someone can come retrieve you before you get yourself killed.”

Eris held at his gloved hand to you. You took it, letting him help you rise from the ground, trying to keep weight off your injured ankle. As soon as you were up, he winnowed the two of you away. 

A moment later, you appeared on the border of Autumn and Spring. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for Eris grabbing you by the upper arm. You blushed, muttering a small thank you.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to walk the rest of the way so we don’t set off any wards that will alert my father,” Eris said, coolly. 

He set off and you trailed after him, hobbling slowly because of your injury. You only made it a few paces before Eris turned around. 

“Hurry it up, bunny, I don’t have all day.”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Sorry, it’s a little hard to walk considering my foot was just in a bear trap.”

Eris tsked, looking down at your ankle before his eyes trailed up your form. He let out a sigh and strided back to you. Before you could even figure out what he was doing, he grabbed you by the waist and tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

You squeaked in surprise. “What are you doing?! Put me down!”

“Like I said, I don’t have all day,” Eris said, stalking off towards the border to Spring. You jostled on his shoulder with each step he took but he held you firmly with an arm around your thighs like you weighed absolutely nothing. 

You pounded on his back with your fists. “Ugh, Let me down!”

“You even hit with the strength of a rabbit,” Eris laughed to himself, ignoring your attempts to free yourself from his hold. 

“Jerk,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as you dangled there. 

Eris just laughed again. You bickered with him all the way to a clearing where he finally came to a stop and put you down. You huffed, smoothing down your dress and hair as you glared up at him. 

“You’re welcome,” he purred with an arrogant smile. 

The shadows around the clearing seemed to move in a flurry and then a familiar face stepped out of the darkness. 

“Get away from her,” Azriel growled at Eris.

Eris held his hands up, that smile never leaving his face as Azriel stalked towards you. His eyes narrowed as he sniffed, smelling the blood on you.

“Did he hurt you?” Azriel asked, his tone dark. He grabbed you by the arm and yanked you to his side, causing you to stumble. 

Before you could even open your mouth, Eris cut in.

“Must you have such a low opinion of me, shadowsinger.” Eris wore that fox-like grin again. “I haven’t harmed a single hair on her head.”

Azriel looked to you, waiting for you to verify his story.

“He speaks the truth, Azriel,” you said, clutching your ankle. “I ran into a bear trap on my own. He helped me out of it and brought me here.”

“And why were you running?” Azriel tossed Eris a glare.

“His d-dogs scared me. But they’re friendly,” you replied, trying to ease the tension in the air. 

Eris scoffed, as if no one had ever referred to his hounds as friendly before. 

Azriel looked at you with exasperation. “Come on, let’s get you home. No need to linger here.” He glared at Eris one last time. 

Before you could protest, he hoisted you up into his arms. You glanced at Eris one last time to see a moment of shock cross his face as he met your gaze.

“Thank you,” you called out as you gave him a small wave before you were swept away in the shadows.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You didn’t see Eris again for months. Not until Winter Solstice, when it had been decided that Nesta would try to intrigue him enough to keep him as a steady ally. When Elain had declared that she was going to join the Inner Circle in the Court of Nightmares, you had demanded to be taken as well, despite arguments from nearly everyone. But you were tired of being treated like a baby.

You had gotten your way in the end, after agreeing to strict orders to stay at the foot of the dais the entire time. It wasn’t ideal but it was something…better than staying home. 

You were dressed in a black tulle, A-line gown. The bodice was sheer but adorned with lace appliques embedded with shining silver gems. It had a sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder lace straps. It swept the floor with tulle and lace, pooling at your feet like dark water. It was beautiful, more girlish than the dress Nesta was wearing but not as plain as Elain’s modest, long-sleeved dress. 

You stood at the bottom of the dais next to your sisters, between the two Illyrian warriors, as your sister addressed the crowd. Eris was standing next to Keir at the head of the gathered crowd, dressed in Night Court black himself. It was hard to deny how truly beautiful he was—especially with his striking red hair contrasting the black so well. You could feel his eyes on you from time to time but kept your gaze forward. 

 “May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you,” Feyre declared. 

Keir was the first to approach with a low bow. “Allow me to extend my congratulations.”

“And allow me to extend mine as well, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.” Eris had stalked forward as well, giving your sister a pretty, cultivated smile. “He shall be thrilled by the news.” 

“I’m sure he will.” Rhys kept his eyes trained on the Autumn Heir. “Music!” 

An orchestra began playing and Feyre raised her voice and said, “Go—eat.”

The crowd slowly began to dissipate. Keir also disappeared as half the crowd began to dance seamlessly to the music. 

“Before you join the merriment, Eris,” Rhys drawled. “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”

You tuned out the conversation, taking in the rest of the throne room. It was your first time here in Hewn City. It was as monstrous as expected. But beautiful still, in the dark way that screamed Night. 

You tuned back into the conversation just as Feyre spoke, “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.” 

She looked at the three of you, as if deciding who she would offer to the Heir of Autumn even though it had already been decided. Elain gave a passable impression of appearing interested, as she had been directed to. Nesta just looked bored. Rhys and Feyre had given you no direction, claiming Eris would be tempted more by power and a wide-eyed, young girl, as they had called you, would not be of interest to him. 

“My oldest sister shall take my place.” 

But it was like Eris hadn’t heard Feyre speak as he stepped forward and stopped in front of you, not Nesta. You blinked at him, your brows raising with confusion as he extended his hand to you, an open invitation. 

“I’ll take the little bunny,” Eris purred with that fox-like grin. He kept his amber eyes on you, not looking towards Feyre despite speaking to her. “If the Lady agrees, of course.” 

“I-I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the dances, my Lord,” you said, politely, ignoring the hand outstretched to you as your cheeks turned red at the attention. 

Eris didn’t back down. “That’s quite alright. I’ve been told I’m a good lead.” 

You glanced at Feyre and Rhys, uncertain of what you were supposed to do. This wasn’t the plan. Eris was never supposed to take interest in you. You were a speck of dust compared to the power rolling off Nesta—power, the only thing he was supposed to care about. 

You felt talons scrape your mind and let your sister in.

Just go with it for now. We’ll send in Azriel to take over before it goes too far. 

You slipped your hand in Eris’s hold and let him escort you to the dance floor just as the dance finished and the introductory strains of the next began. You couldn’t wipe the wide-eyed look off your face as much as you tried to. You placed your free hand on his shoulder just as his broad hand slid around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

You blushed, somehow turning even more red than you already had been. 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear just as the violins began their song. 

“And so the fox ensnares the bunny again.” 

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Stop calling me that.” 

“Why?” he purred, beginning to lead you into the dance. “It just seems so fitting.” 

“It’s not,” you grumbled, trying not to stumble over your own feet. You were lucky that this waltz was similar to the one from the human lands or else you would have surely embarrassed yourself already. 

The pair of you finished your first rotation around the dance floor in silence but that smirk never seemed to leave Eris’s face to your annoyance. Flame simmered in his eyes, never leaving yours for a second. You felt something flutter in your chest. 

“So,” Eris finally spoke. “Have your owners finally let you out of your cage?” 

“I am not caged here,” you murmured. “Just because they don’t find you pleasant company, doesn’t mean I haven’t been allowed around others.” 

You snapped your mouth shut, a brief wave of horror passing through you. You had just insulted him. You had just done the opposite of what was supposed to be happening tonight. But to your surprise, Eris just chuckled, not seeming offended at all. 

“Do you find me unpleasant, Lady?”

“I remain undecided, my Lord,” you said. “Though everyone certainly has a lot to say about you.”

“What lies have they told you about me, sweetheart?” He twirled your around again, your skirt swishing in the air. A faint fluttering of butterflies grew in your stomach. 

“What are these lies you speak of, my Lord?”

You tried to channel your sister but it came out so wrong. You didn’t sound as aloof as her. Nor as cold. 

“Don’t try to play the game they want you to.” Eris’s smirk grew into a grin. “It does not suit you, bunny.” 

“Maybe if you stopped playing games, I wouldn’t feel the need to as well,” you muttered with a frown. Eris’s grin sharpened. 

You were failing at this task. Failing so profoundly that it was embarrassing. You hoped your family couldn’t hear this conversation. 

“This is not a game to me, little bunny,” Eris purred, his grip around your waist tightening. “None of it is.”

“Your behavior seems to say otherwise. So does your reputation.” 

“Do I not ally myself with this court under constant threat of being discovered and killed by my father? Do I not offer aid whenever Rhysand wishes?” 

“That matters little to me, my Lord,” you said. “I am not a piece on this political chessboard you seem to have with Rhysand.” 

“So what matters to you, Y/n?” Eris kept pace with the other dancers and you followed his lead as best as you could. “Tell me. I wish to know.” 

Your hand slipped from his shoulder, down to his chest and right over his beating heart. “This. This is what matters to me. I would rather someone good of heart over someone with power.” 

“How sweet,” Eris teased. “How naive.” 

“Gods forbid someone be hopeful for the goodness of people to be the change in this world,” you bristled. 

To your surprise, Eris merely smirked once again. “Goodness cannot exist amongst cruelty, sweetheart. Just as hope cannot exist under the burden of responsibility.” 

You studied him closely. “Aren’t you tired of putting on a show, Eris? I have seen monsters. You do not seem like one of them.” 

Eris yanked you closer and your heart began to pound in your chest. “Then I’d say you haven’t seen enough of the world and its monsters if you truly believe that, bunny.”

“Stop calling me that!” 

“Wide-eyed, fluffy tailed,” Eris listed off, his fox-like grin returning. “Still has hope that she can change the world. I have seen this story, sweetheart. I know how it ends. Perhaps it would be best for you to return to your safe, little burrow where you belong.” 

A wave of anger crashed into you, your body heating up. 

“You don’t get to tell me where I belong. No one does,” you huffed. “Especially not a jerk who doesn’t have dreams of his own and lets everyone else dictate who he is!” 

Eris didn’t seem perturbed by your impassioned speech. If anything, his grin seemed to grow. You hadn’t even realized the song had ended and that the two of you had come to a halt on the edge of the dance floor, too lost in your anger. 

“You’re just going to have to learn the hard way, sweetheart. You think having dreams and hope makes you something but it doesn’t. It can’t.” Your hand dropped from his chest as he brought the one he was holding up to his lips.  “You are only ever going to be what others think you are.”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before letting it fall to your side.  

“Sly fox.” He pointed to himself before turning his hand to you in a sweeping gesture. “Dumb bunny.” 

“I am not a dumb bunny,” you growled. 

“Right,” he drawled in a teasing manner that infuriated you. “And you are definitely not caged here, either.” 

Your eyes widened as he strode away from you, disappearing in the crowd but not before he tossed one last remark over his shoulder, “I’ll catch you later, bunny.”

You stared at his back as a scarred hand landed on your shoulder with a firm grip, knocking you out of your stupor. You looked up at Azriel, at his cold, unreadable face that stared down at you. 

“Come on,” he murmured. “I’ve been ordered to take you back home.”

And just like that, your night–and freedom—was over. Eris’s words and his stupidly handsome face haunted you the entire journey back to Velaris. 

[ervotica]

Since you asked for eris requests 🤭 How do you think eris would react when he realizes he’s fallen in love with cat person 😂 he’d be sitting there with his 12 smoke hounds like 👁️👄👁️

lmfao this really amuses me

synopsis; eris never thought he’d end up falling for a cat person. when you smuggle one onto the grounds, he’s less than pleased.

You've picked up a stray cat that you've been hellbent on befriending for the past month– you’ve left out saucers of water and milk, chunks of chicken and beef from leftover dinners that you've snuck away from the kitchens after mealtimes. Eris has been interrogating you for weeks on why you’ve been so slyly skulking around the grounds, but you’ve refused to disclose anything to him, batting your lashes with a coy smile to get your way.

And when it does finally approach you, the damn thing won't leave your side, nuzzling up against your legs and purring when you scratch under its chin and between its fluffy little ears.

So you do the most reasonable thing anyone would under your circumstances– you smuggle it into your quarters.

The guards' affection for you runs so deeply that they turn a blind eye to the animal you've stuffed beneath your skirts, only chuckling amongst themselves at your antics when you're out of earshot.

When Eris saunters in the door after a long day of running around with his hounds, he finds you snuggled into an armchair by the roaring fire holding a... cat?

"What is that?" he pries, lip curling in disdain and watching as your arms tighten defensively around the animal; it digs its way deeper into your chest in response.

"It's a cat," you deadpan, fighting the smirk that tugs at the corners of your lips when he crinkles his nose in utter disgust. “You smell like dog,” you add, even as you beckon him closer with an incline of your head, holding out your hand for him to interlace his fingers with. He peers over your shoulder at the animal, forehead creasing with a frown sets deep into his brow and he scoffs.

"I don't like cats."

"Don't you like me?" you whine, fluttering your lashes up at him as your bottom lip spills into a pout that you know is bound to get you your own way once again.

"Sweetheart..."

"Look how cute he is, Eris! How can you not love his little face?"

“I’ll set the dogs on him,” he says curtly, but scratches the purring animal between the ears as you gasp and pinch his exposed forearm. “Ow!”

“Don’t you dare! I love him.”

“We can’t keep him, you know.”

Tears burn at the backs of your eyes. “Why not?”

He softens, smearing a kiss against the crown of your head. “Who would take care of him, hm?”

“Me! You know how much effort I’ve put into making friends with him?” You punctuate your statement with a crinkle of your nose, tucking your chin into your shoulder as the cat climbs his way up your chest. “Please, Er?”

You know you have him when he sighs, dropping his head to the juncture of your neck. He grumbles.

“Fine. But don’t expect me to be taking care of the damn thing.”

You preen under his touch, pressing a kiss to the curve of his jaw.

“I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you brat. I love you, too.”

If he wasn’t so smitten with you, he might’ve found it in himself to be cross.

[acourtofmenandthirst]

Closed Until Further Notice

Oh my god this was WAY longer than anticipated and I wasn't planning on making it like spicy, but it's been a while so I threw some at the very end ;) this is Eris x Cafe Owner ! Reader / trope, it was very cute so I hope I captured the idea well enough for the anon who requested it!

Word Count: 10.3K

Warnings: Cursing, Smut

Eris wouldn’t say he frequented the small towns scattered throughout the Autumn Courts, nothing more than a yearly visit or two, normally just for an inspection called upon by his father. He usually came on horseback, flanked by his soldiers in their shining armor, and strolled through the town for a quick survey. He nodded politely, quick to make his way through the town without disturbing any of the residents. No matter how nice he was, how civil and respectful he was, they still cowered from him - hid in their homes and shut their shop doors when he passed through.

But there was one town, nestled just past the forest in the valley of the mountains right before the Winter Court, that Eris took his time visiting. That’s exactly what it was, in fact: a visit, not an inspection - no surveillance, no prying. He traveled there alone, winnowing to the outskirts of the village, taking his time walking down the main street. Stores and homes littered the dirt road, nearly frozen solid from the Winter wind that blew across the border; he walked along the stone sidewalk, past the brick houses and the shops built up from the redwood trees. 

At the center of the town stood the bakery, a hand painted sign that spelled it out in fine script. The chalkboard was propped open on the walkway, the specials written in swirly cursive. Eris bit the inside of his cheek to hide the smile that crawled up his lips, eyeing the Topfenstrudel you’d written no doubt early this morning - probably before he’d even woken up. You’d listed a few teas below it, fruit sauces, and spices to pair it with. 

Eris wouldn’t admit to it, but he’d patroned it more than the other little towns. It started once a year, just like everywhere else, but turned quarterly - monthly, even - after he visited your bakery. Small and tucked away, next to a butcher’s shop on one side and a bookstore on the other, your cafe was lined with tables and plush chairs, golden faelights and fresh flowers strewn across the space. 

He slipped through the door quickly, trying not to let out the heat from the small fire in the hearth beside the counter. “Good morning,” you called from the back kitchen, not visible from the doorway. “I’ll be with you in a minute!” Eris hummed in response, throwing a tiny ring of fire at the dimming flame. He noted the heat immediately, a welcome shiver down his spine at the feeling. He shook off the cold, shoving his hands in his pockets and pacing a few steps around the cafe. 

He had half a mind to bring you flowers this time - though, he’d been telling himself that the past three visits. His mother had clipped some hydrangeas from her garden, had them laid out along the long table in her drawing room. He should have just swiped a few, winnowed out before she would even notice, but he thought against it, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or think he was trying something. 

Not that he wasn’t, necessarily - he should - gods, he wanted to. But the only thing you knew about him was that he was the High Lord’s son, he didn’t want to accept your advances because you felt like you had to. 

You popped around the corner, stopping in front of the counter wiping your hands on your apron. Your mouth opened and shut quickly, eyes wide at the sight of him. But he didn’t miss the blush that crawled up your cheeks, the small flustered smile when his fiery gaze met yours. “Oh - I didn’t - sorry to keep you waiting,” you said, shaking your head slightly. 

Eris smiled and relaxed his shoulders. “I wasn’t, don’t worry.” He’d counted down each minute - all forty-four thousand of them - until he saw you again. 

“You’re early,” you replied, pressing your hands against the counter, shuffling the random pile of papers before you.

He shrugged, eyes falling to the counter, watching how you moved the papers, each scrawled with a different recipe or note, and pushed them to the side. “Long day ahead - I wanted to make sure I got the strudel before you ran out.” 

The High Lord’s son typically came closer to closing, when just a few customers lingered around. Some ducked out quickly, afraid of the tall male’s presence; others stayed, tucked away in the dimly lit corners of the cafe, watching the handsome male from just over the rim of their coffee up. He usually ordered a tea - something chamomile or tisane - along with a pastry or two, and always tried the daily special. 

But you opened at six in the morning, and Eris strolled in just three minutes past. 

“Then what else can I get for you, Eris?” He almost melted on the spot - his name dripped like honey off your lips. You’d exchanged names and gotten past formalities a few months ago, when you’d started greeting him more like a friend than the High Lord’s son. 

He figured he’d never get anywhere with you if he kept lingering around the bakery before closing, when your neighbors sat watching his every move. 

“I’ll have a coffee, please.” You quirked a brow at the male, surprised at the change in order, though you supposed it was too early for a sleepy tea. 

You watched him ruffle around in his pocket for some change, the heavy gold coins shaking in his hand. He dipped his head to count the money, you watched the red locks of hair fall over his brow. You tipped your head back to look up at him, watch the fire’s shadows dance over his carved cheekbones, kissing his straight nose. 

You were able to see him clearly in the morning light; you could count the freckles across his cheeks, and oh how you longed to. He looked so different at night, when the sun was gone and the only light came from the red fire and amber faelights, as well as his glowing eyes. “And how do you take your coffee?” You watched his throat work, his eyes roam over your features. 

Eris pressed his tongue behind his teeth. “How you take yours.” 

“Milk and sugar?” You hummed, raising your brow, smiling at the male. While he savored the sweets you served him, you would have assumed he went for the more bitter taste. 

To be fair, he did. He just wanted to know how you liked yours, should he ever have the chance to make it for you himself. 

Preferentially in his bed. 

And nude. 

“Milk and sugar,” he replied with a small nod but a broad smile. 

Your eyes flitted between him and the mess on the counter in front of you - yet his red eyes never left yours, his gaze burning into you. You couldn’t help but blush, the heat emitted from his body calling to you, for you to throw yourself into him and feel his arms around you. The chill from the Winter Court was strong that morning, you’d wanted nothing more than to linger around the warm ovens all morning. But the cafe felt warmer, like it always did when he visited; you weren’t sure if it was his fire powers or just him. 

How much you wanted to touch him. 

“Coming right up.” You offered him a smile before trotting off to the kitchen, setting the grounds up over the set of mugs. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Your voice carried quietly from the back kitchen, just audible above the cracking fire. Eris’s eyes swiped around the cafe, over the small tables and iron chairs, never having seen the shop empty before. But he took a seat against the window, the seats shrouded with pillows with stacks of books adorning the tabletop. Your scent lingered across the space, bright and fruity with a hint of cinnamon. 

He tried not to stare at the counter across the shop, watch and wait for you to appear in the doorway to return. Eris tried to busy himself, glancing at each of the plants hanging from baskets, the flowers that he tried to remember, the sound of his mother reciting each name in the back of his mind. 

You piled the mugs and plates on a small wooden tray and made your way back to the tiny dining area, weaving through the tables to meet him in the corner. His thick brows raised in surprise as he noticed the amount of goodies on the tray, scrambling to stand and take it from you. But you shooed him off, setting everything down between you and ushering him to sit when you took the seat across from him. 

You never thought you’d meet a member of Autumn royalty, let alone one that fretted over you carrying a small try and who stood whenever you entered the room. 

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he said, quietly, almost unsure of how the word was supposed to sound - like it was foreign. But your pointed ears flexed, unable to miss the small sentiment, no matter how unusual it tasted on his tongue, he was trying. 

“You’re welcome, Eris,” you replied simply, handing him a mug, taking the matching one for yourself. There were a couple strudels on a plate, paired with a bowl of fruit, and some macaroons, a couple pumpkin tarts fresh from the oven on the side. 

He noticed how you pulled your strudel in half, how your shoulders shrugged slightly when you tasted it, the warm dough relaxing the cold chill that stiffened your spine. You couldn’t help but watch his hands work before you, pulling apart his pastry, just as you did, how he picked up the coffee cup loosely in those long fingers, pale knuckles and veins lining his big hands. You cradled your own mug in both hands, half needing the warmth from the side of the cup, the other half needing the grasp on reality, keeping you grounded - keeping your mind from wandering too far. 

His gaze washed over you, watching as you zoned out, staring into the space between you. “Were you here early this morning?” 

You blinked once, twice, trying to pull your eyes away from the male’s hands. “Yeah.” You huffed a laugh, sipping from the much needed coffee. “I start baking at four - got here at three though.” You eyed the pastry he’d picked up. “These were a bit more difficult than what I usually try for.”

“It’s excellent,” he said, taking a bite of the flaky pastry. “Very much worth the extra time, in my opinion.”

“I’m glad you came today.” Eris’s red eyes sparkled at your words, he felt the fire roar through his veins and crawl up his cheeks. 

Me too. He ached; wanted to find out everything about you, about your life, what you liked and what you didn’t, your family, what made you tick, what made you smile, how you tasted, how you’d look in his bed, on his lap. 

But before the male could even think of a response, the door swung open, followed by a gust of wind. Your eyes shot to the door immediately, assessing who came in, interrupting (what Eris believed to be, at least) a pleasant conversation. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Aldrich,” you greeted the old female, bundled up in her coat and wrapped in what looked like two scarves. Your eyes dropped to Eris once more as you pushed yourself from the table, sauntering off to the counter to serve her. 

But Eris decided to only wait a few moments longer, downing the rest of his coffee and finishing the treats on the table before stacking the bowls and plates. He ran his hands over the sides of his corduroy pants, unsure of whether to bring them to you in the kitchen, whether he should even go out of his way to say goodbye. He felt the Fae female staring at him, too afraid to say anything, but watching his every move. So he buttoned his jacket, preparing to leave before anyone else could come to the cafe to study him. 

He turned to the female, offering his a polite bow of his head in greeting, which she returned with a small curtsey. “Bye Eris,” you called, poking your head around the corner from the kitchen, arms working to tie a white apron around your waist. 

His eyes found yours, sparkling in the morning light that shines from the front windows. “Bye (Y/N), thanks again.” He offered you a smile before he ducked out the short front door. 

Eris felt Mrs. Aldrich’s eyes move back and forth between the two of you. 

_________________________

The next time he came by, it was still just as cold and just as early. He tried to take his time walking to the shop, but he couldn’t slow himself down - his hands itched, flexing at his sides, simmering with heat that poured out of him. The pocket watch in the front of his jacket told him he was a few minutes early, so he lingered along the cobblestones, kicking at the loose rocks on the sidewalk. 

The lights in the cafe were on, but the specials sign was missing and the Closed sign hung across the green door. He chewed on his bottom lip, shoving his hands inside his pockets and turning on his heel. He thought maybe he should just leave, not wait around like a creep, and solicit the peaceful town. 

“Eris?” 

The male’s head lifted as he turned over his shoulder, meeting your soft smile. He lifted a hand to run through his messy red hair, pushing it away from his eyes. “Hey (Y/N), good morning,” he stumbled over his words, too focused on his racing heart - beating almost as rapidly as the first day he saw you. 

You held the door open with your foot - the tip of your brown boot covered in flour, as the hem of your skirt was - and moved to pull the chalkboard through the door. The High Lord’s son pulled it from your hands, grabbing it easily with on and moving it as though it weighed nothing. He fixed it up on the sidewalk before turning to you with a smile. “Apricot sachertorte?”

You beamed at him, proud of your newest sweet treat, and propped your hands on your hips. You almost didn’t notice the Winter Court chill seeping through your clothes. You felt the heat he emitted, centuries of fire burning through him, drawing you to him. “You like chocolate, no?”

Eris ushered you inside, noting your missing coat when his eyes drew up and down your body. The dress you wore was thin, tight. Dusted with ingredients and a messy apron. He swallowed, forced some air into his lungs, and forced himself to not stare when you led him inside. “I have a certain weakness when it comes to chocolate.” And you. 

He rolled his eyes inwardly at himself - how his father would have killed him for even making a joke about having a terminal flaw. But he’d developed enough of a friendship that he’d actually made you laugh, and it was a sound he’d say nearly anything to hear it again. 

“Perfect then, take a seat and I’ll get some coffee for us.” Eris sighed in sweet relief, thanking you for saving him from having to ask you to sit with him again. 

You were quick to return with two mugs and two plates, one exceptionally large slice of the torte accompanied by a smaller one. He was quick to help you, settling into the table across from the fireplace. You’d hummed when you sat down, relaxing into the iron chair, and the male couldn’t help but wonder if it was the first time you’d sat down all morning. You drank your coffee like it came from the Mother herself, savoring the rich taste. “This is probably the fourth cup I’ve had this morning.” 

Eris wasn’t surprised. He was in the same boat himself, actually. He hadn’t been able to sleep all last night, not with the anticipation of seeing you. He’d forced his night owl of a brother to spar with him, tire himself out wielding the heavy steel sword. He’d fussed over battle plans and boring court papers. When that didn’t work, he’d even found himself in the kitchen, attempting what was intended to be a galette. When that didn’t work out, he gave up and laid in bed for a few more hours. He was tired, sure, but couldn’t fall asleep. 

“You ought to take a day off, sleep in,” he replied, taking a bite of the layered chocolate cake. Gods, if that was the last meal he’d eat, he’d be beyond satisfied. 

You shrugged, finger tracing the rim of your cup. “I could… but I just love it too much - even if I have to wake up early for it.” Eris nodded along. “Besides, what if you came by the shop and I was closed?”

He shifted in his chair, trying to settle the burn in his chest. “You’re right - ” he tried to play it off casually. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself without your pastries.” Another job well done, he cursed himself. 

You smiled sweetly, propping your elbow up on the table and resting your head against your knuckles. “So tell me, Eris. What’s on today’s agenda? I can hardly believe you came all this way just for coffee and chocolate.” 

Oh how wrong you were. He’d go to the ends of Prythian just to spend one moment with you. 

“Taking care of some errands for my father,” he began, not interested in divulging too much. You understood, and simply nodded along, taking whatever he’d be willing to give out. “I have a meeting in the Winter Court.” 

“Ah, just a stop along the way, then.” He wasn’t sure if he heard faint disappointment laced in your voice, or if it was just what he’d been hoping to hear. 

“Well - yes, but…” It was one of those rare moments where Eris didn’t know what to say. “But I wish I could come more - I don’t want to bother you. I know a lot of your customers are uneasy when I stop by - ”

You cut him off, sitting straight in your chair. “You’re not - I love when you visit, Eris.” You fought against all your instincts to reach across the table and grab his hand. 

It was his turn to blush. Maybe he was overheating, what with all the layers and sitting in front of the fire. Or perhaps it was your bright eyes staring at him, burning into him, starting straight into the depths of his soul. “I wish I could stay longer, I’d like to - ”

But that godsdamned door opened again, a group of Fae walked in, conversation abruptly stopping when they noticed the fiery-haired male sitting at the table across from you. Eris stood in one swift motion, abandoning his fork and empty plate behind him. He noticed the young female that walked in, orange hair wild around her ears, starting straight at you, wiggling her eyebrows. 

When he tossed a look over his shoulder at you, he saw your pink cheeks, chin tucked close to your chest. “Your highness,” one of the males began, bowing to Eris.

His friend smacked him in the chest, grimacing at his friend’s actions. “Shut up.”

Another female interrupted all of them, smiling broadly at Eris. “Good morning, sir,” she said sweetly, dipping slightly in greeting. 

Eris had never felt more awkward in his life. He’d been trained in court politics, to lead armies, to host High Lord meetings on behalf of his father, to speak in front of hundreds of Fae. But never to talk with teenage Fae. 

“Good morning,” he replied as politely as he could, shifting his weight from foot to foot. But he recalled his courtier training, standing tall and holding his chin high. 

He got a small confidence boost though, as the other males tilted their heads back to look up at him, and cowered a few steps backward. And although Eris was normally cocky enough to have loved to inflict that kind of response on others, it wasn’t what he should be displaying in front of a female he was trying to impress. 

“I have to be getting on my way, (Y/N),” he finished, turning back to look at you. “Thanks for the coffee.” He smirked, watching as you glared at your friend - the one whose eyes kept flitting between you and the High Lord’s son. 

Your attention was drawn back to Eris and he threw a wink your way before he left the cafe.  

_________________________

He winnowed back just after the sun had set, when the chill from the mountains was visible in each breath he took. Eris appeared right in front of your shop door, where the lights were dimmed and the sign on the door read Closed. 

Fuck, he’d cursed himself, fifteen minutes late. He’d rushed back as fast as he could, after having spent the day in the Winter Court, useless meetings with Kallias and his staff. Eris had nearly run out of the meeting room, winnowing before he’d even left the table and made it close to the door. 

But you’d spotted him, the brown wool coat and dark red hair from the window. You almost skipped to the door, something between a hop and a half-jog, making your way to the door before he’d off and disappeared again. “Eris, wait!” You’d called, unlocking the door and poking your head through. 

He smiled when he turned around, meeting you in the doorway. You held a broom in your hand, obviously close to leaving for the evening. No matter how tired you were, there was no doubt in his mind that you’d had a busy day, you still greeted him with a cheery smile. 

“I just wanted to,” he began, digging his hand through his pocket and pulling out a handful of gold coins. “For this morning.” 

You shook your head, but took his wrist in your hand, pulling him through the door. Your fingers sparked when you felt his warm skin against yours. “You visiting is quite enough - ”

Eris groaned, wishing you’d held onto him for just a little bit longer. “I don’t need special treatment.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can’t be nice to you anymore, Eris?”

He smiled, sharp teeth glinting in the dim faelight. “Are you being nice to me or being nice to my family?” 

He watched you tut, giving him an indiscreet up and down. It almost made him nervous. “Just you.” And Eris smiled at that, his own selfishness getting the best of him, but glad you had invited him in. “I like when you visit. You don’t do it enough.” 

You’d set the broom against the table, hands clasped in front of you trying your damnedest not to look like a giddy child in a candy shop. Eris glowed, watching your movements, daring to see how much else you’d reveal to him. 

Eris was too busy staring at you, committing every feature of yours to memory, to respond. “How about some tea?” You asked, already making your way to the kitchen. 

“Please,” he nearly sighed, and no matter how happy and excited he was to be back at your bakery, he was still beat from a day of Winter Court bullshit. 

You disappeared only momentarily, returning just after you’d set the kettle over the stovetop, with two mugs in hand. You set them on the table by the window, the seats both cushioned with freshly fluffed pillows. Eris joined you, eyeing the loose tea leaves at the bottom of the cups, a mixture of chamomile flowers, linden leaves, and peppermint. 

He smiled gratefully, seeing your body relax once you’d slid into the chair across from him. “You like it here?” Eris couldn’t help but ask. You seemed to work yourself into exhaustion, rising before the sun, staying past dusk, holed away in the quaint cafe. It was a small town, too far from the other Autumn villages to easily visit - though, he supposed there would be plenty of adventure in the woods beyond and the mountains between Winter. That ought to be dangerous, especially given the fact that if Beron found out about his subjects crossing the border, he’d outright banish or kill them. 

You smiled back at the High Lord’s son, him looking equally as tired as you must have. Light purple lined the tops of his cheekbones, starkly contrasting his otherwise luminous pale skin. His brows were taught, pulled together as if really contemplating your answer - or perhaps overthinking his question. He’d forgotten his coat on the back of his chair, a dark blazer underneath. His eyes glowed, his red irises burning brighter as the light from the windows faded.

“I do,” you hummed, content with your little date. 

But the screeching of the kettle interrupted you, and right as you placed your hands on the table to push yourself up, Eris stopped you. “Let me, please.” Before you could even respond, he was already on his feet, rushing off into the back kitchen to pull the kettle off.

He returned with the kettle in one hand and a bottle of honey in the other. He poured your cup first and then his, setting the hot water to the side. Surely, should you let him stay long enough, it would be easy enough for him to reheat later. 

“You were saying?” He continued, eyes locked on the mug before him, dropping in a swirl of honey to his tea. 

You bit your lip, pushing your mug closer to him. His eyes flitted up to you once before he repeated the action. “I like it here. It’s small - I know all of my customers by now. All of their names, their orders, it’s like a little family.” 

Eris nodded along, leaning back in his chair. “No problems with the Winter Court?” 

You rolled your eyes. I have more problems with the current court, if we were being honest. “It’s cold,” you replied. “It’s quiet. But far away enough that we aren’t…” You bit your tongue. “Not that there’s anything wrong with - ”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Eris replied, not shocked with your response. “I understand.”

Just like any other Fae on the continent, he reminded himself: scared of his father. He wasn’t surprised, this would be the perfect town to escape Beron’s tight holds. It wasn’t close enough that he kept it under his nose, monitoring the town and the villagers. It wasn’t particularly useful to him - no major crops or orchards, maybe lumber from the redwoods, but there were far closer regions he could busy himself with. 

But he saw how quickly your brows raised and cheeks turned red at your comment. It was almost as if you’d forgotten he was the High Lord’s son up until that moment. 

Eris was ashamed to carry the Vanserra name. 

He finished off his tea, suddenly uncomfortable with keeping you so late. Maybe the reason you were so nice to him was because of who his father was. You were hosting him out of formality, not friendship or desire - you were probably afraid he’d go running back to the Forest House with your name at the top of his list. 

You reached a hand out to him, watching his lips turn into a frown and his brows narrow as he lost himself in thought. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“If there is anyone who gets it, (Y/N), believe me - I do.” He took a long sip from the mug in his hand, set it down silently, and pushed himself from the seat. His hands fumbled over his coat, swinging it over his shoulders and fastening it shut. “I don’t want to keep you any longer - I’ve intruded quite enough.” He turned to the door, to avoid watching you awkwardly scramble to your feet. The sky was dark, the only light along the street was the glow from the faelights in the windows of the houses along the way. He turned back on his heel to face you, staring up at him, bewildered. “Can I at least walk you home?”

You pressed your lips together, clasping your hands in front of you. “I live upstairs, actually.”

“Ah.” It was all that came from him, which left the male cursing himself once more. Fucking idiot. “Well thank you again, (Y/N).” Back to formalities, back to square one. 

You nodded once more, watching as he turned to the door. As he reached for the handle, you stopped him, grabbing his other hand. His skin was burning hot and sent sparks into you. “You’re welcome anytime here, Eris.” You waited until he turned around, fully acknowledging your words. “And not just because of who your father is.” 

Eris nodded, albeit a bit numbly, as you sent his mind reeling the moment he felt your fingers grasp his. Should I do it?

He wanted to kiss you so badly. So badly that his fingers itched to grab you and pull you against him. You batted your eyelashes at him, all innocent as if you had no idea what you were doing. Maybe you weren’t doing anything - no signals, no invitation to kiss you, love you, fuck you. 

It was all in his head, it had to be. 

He couldn’t compromise your innocence, not when he’d already been seen alone in the cafe with you twice in one day. He could only imagine what the other Fae were thinking, how he’d either besmirched your reputation or created a scandal in the small town. 

“Then I’ll be sure to return more often.” With that, he gave your fingers a squeeze and turned - forcing every fiber of his being not to take you with him. 

_________________________

Eris couldn’t sleep again. Gods, he felt ill. 

He was clammy all over - absolutely disgusting. He’d forced himself from bed and into the bath, letting the cold water wash over him and take away whatever it was he was feeling. His heart was racing out of his chest, his breathing was jagged - it was unlike any other fever he’d had. 

And then he felt it, laying in the cold water of the porcelain tub. It felt like a rubber band snapped against his ribcage. It winded him, had him lurching forward and clutching his chest. He figured the copper taste in his mouth was a figment of his imagination, being no stranger to the taste of blood. Maybe he bit his tongue when he felt the snap, it had his heart lurching upwards into his scarred throat. 

Eris’s fingers gripped the edge of the cold bathtub - he felt the water turning hotter by the second. He couldn’t control the heat that emitted from his body, the simmering flames smothered in his palms. 

That was it.

That was it. 

He wasn’t dying - not if you could call being utterly grossly in love dying. 

His heart hammered in his chest and the fire roared through his veins. It felt like he was suffocating, sure, but it felt good. His hands were shaking, and he knew the only cure would be to have you in them. You were the one who could teach him how to breathe again.

He huffed a long shaky breath, leaning back in the tub until his back touched the now warm ceramic. Curls of steam began to dance on the surface of the water that seemed to be rippling in time with his heartbeat. 

Eris shut his eyes, trying his damndest to clear his head, to calm the fuck down. But all he saw was you, the flour that dusted your cheek, the apron wrapped so tight around your waist he wished it were his hands. He thought of your cheeks, rosy and red from the ovens, your plump lips sipping on tea, how sweet you looked drinking your milky coffee. Then he remembered the shape of your brow, how it quirked downwards when you’d mentioned his father, how you gnawed on that bottom lip of yours when he’d been in such a rush to leave. 

But it didn’t matter what you thought of his father, of the whole damned Autumn Court itself. He’d get on his knees before you to beg, plead for you to understand - it’s not his fault, it’s not him. 

So that’s what he set off to do. 

He pushed himself from the near boiling water, haphazardly drying himself off as he skitted to the wardrobe. He flung it open, opting for a casual pair of brown trousers and a white linen shirt. He ought to be prepared to do a lot of begging, spending the whole morning on his knees begging for you to accept him as a mate, begging for a taste. 

_________________________

It was only seven hours since you’d seen Eris, the whole time you’d spent thinking of him and replaying your latest conversation. It was very much the same after each time you’d seen him, spending the evening tossing and turning, picturing his red hair and soft smile, the freckles over his cheeks and that little scar under his eye. You imagined what it would be like to hold him in your arms, laying on top of you, suffocating you in the best way; you pictured what it’d be like for him to hold you, laying behind you, arms wrapped fully around you, holding you against his chest. 

But you laid in bed alone, staring at the clock until the golden hands ticked to three o’clock. 

You pushed the covers from yourself, shivering at the cold that swept through your bones. You’d gotten better at fighting that fight, the urge to stay in bed and revel in your warmth instead of forcing yourself downstairs at such an early hour. The warm ovens called to you, but you’d have to overcome the chill of the nearly Winter air and the cold hardwood floor. 

You wondered if it would be warmer with Eris there. As if the male just naturally heated every room he walked into - 

No. 

You shook your head, trying to rid the thoughts of the Autumn heir from your mind. You’d only distract yourself. You knew the visit yesterday would have to last you for the rest of the month. You could only begin to count down the days until you anticipated his return. 

So instead, you shuffled down the stairs, pulling open your recipe book and setting out a few bowls. You hadn’t decided the day before what you were making yet - not like you usually did. Your mind had been much too occupied. You settled on figuring it out later, just starting with something simple and figuring out a custard later. With flour dusting the counter, you rolled out some dough, working it until it was so thin that it was almost transparent. A simple croissant surely would do, you’d thought. Maybe you could use up some of the pumpkin or raspberries…

You’d gone rifling around for inspiration when you felt a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t the cold of the early morning, nor the chill from the produce cooler. No - it was the hard knock on the door, rattling the closed sign against the wooden frame. 

You bit your lip, debating wiping out all the Faelights - that no doubt alerted whoever was outside that you were in. But you had no choice, as the knock sounded again, softer this time, but still enough to prove your visitor’s determination to talk to you. 

Not once in your centuries of owning the cafe had you had a morning visitor. Nobody had ever shown up before opening, especially not at three in the godsdamned morning.

All you could do was grab your stone rolling pin from the counter, holding it between your two shaky hands as you trotted quietly to the door. But as you stepped around the counter and wove through the tables, you’d spotten a tuft of red hair through the window. 

Red hair, pale skin, long coat, the smell of firewood and burnt sage. 

Your heart stuttered, pure shock replaced with utter bewilderment. Your throat tightened, nervous as to what he may be visiting for - what you may have said that offended him. Then you sighed, dropping your head to stare at the thick cotton dress you wore, the wool sock on your feet. Fuck, you huffed, blowing a piece of hair out of your face. The Mother could not have prepared you less. 

All you could do was pull the door open, holding the rolling pin behind your back. 

And when the door swung open, the cold coming in immediately, Eris’s eyes were blown wide. The red around his dilated pupils glowing against the dark of night. Gods you were so fucking beautiful. His gaze roamed over your messy hair, the loose dress that hung over your shoulders, the cozy looking socks on your feet. 

“Hey,” he said, quieter than intended. He cleared his throat, stepping closer, arms tightly pressed behind his back. “Sorry to - interrupt.” He couldn’t stop - his eyes were roaming, frantically moving between yours, trying not to wander over your body, his mind was reeling, heart was pounding out of his chest. His cheeks were flushed, breathing ragged - the bond was fucking with him. Absolutely fucking with him - he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to stand in front of you much longer without having to get his hands on you. “I regretted leaving so abruptly last night. I stayed late and should have at least helped you clean up.”

You smiled. He was so serious. Those red eyebrows were raised, mouth parted, almost frowning at the corners - so distraught. “Don’t make a fuss about it - I just like your company.” I miss when you’re not here. I miss your visits. 

I missed you. 

The corner of his mouth turned up, gaze softening at your apparent forgiveness. He took a step closer, closing the distance between you. He moved his arm from behind his back, holding up a bundle of blue-ish hydrangeas - the flowers he hadn’t stopped thinking about bringing you. 

It wasn’t inconspicuous, like he hoped it would be. His mother caught on immediately, asking him why he kept inquiring about her flowers, what she’d pulled from the garden. Who are you bringing them for? He’d rolled his eyes at her, scoffing. I’m not bringing them to anyone, mother. I can’t show interest in the garden? So he’d been deterred from bringing them. He didn’t want to draw attention to it - to you - especially not from his father or courtiers. 

Until that night - until he had the perfect opportunity, when everyone was asleep, to snatch them from the table and winnow straight to you.

Your eyes fell to the bunch of flowers, jaw dropped, unable to speak. What did you say? What does one say to the High Lord’s son who brings you flowers. He brought you flowers. You simply couldn’t find the words. But when you looked back up at him, having to tilt your head upwards to meet his gaze, he looked so scared - unsure if you’d accept them, as if he’d made some horrible mistake. 

And you couldn’t help but laugh, having to bite your lip to stop yourself. You didn’t take the flowers, you took his hand, that warm, blazing hot hand, and pulled him inside. “Well, no point in letting all the heat out.” And as if on cure, he lit up, warmth erupting from him, his chest radiating heat into your hand and arm. “Thank you, Eris, I… don’t even know what to say.” You pulled your fingers away from his, taking the bunch of flowers in your free hand.

But you had to place the rolling pin down, having to set it on the table closest to the door. His brows rose. “Preparing for battle, I see.” He surveyed the white stone, nodding his head in approval when he heard the clang of the marble against the iron table. 

You huffed a breathy laugh, ushering him inside and placing them in one of the empty vases from the bookshelf in the corner. You’d set it up on the counter, where everyone would be able to see the beautiful flowers Eris had brought for you. “I was hoping,” he began from behind you, hands shoved into his pants pockets, boot kicking at the thick grout between the stones on the floor. “You might let me help you this morning.”

You turned on your heel, spinning around so fast that you’d nearly startled the normally steadfast male. “You want to help me?”

He nodded. “I’m not very useful - I wouldn’t say I’m the best baker.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I used to help my mother bake apple pie but - ” he finished with a shrug, laughing through his own awkwardness. 

You couldn’t stop your smile. “Of course you can, Eris.” 

And truth be told, the male wasn’t bad. He’d kneaded the dough, he’d prepared the raspberry filling, and even mixed some fresh whipped cream. He’d followed all your instructions and even prepared you a cup of tea in the meantime, while you worked on your own dough at the opposite side of the counter. 

You’d spent far too long watching his hands knead the soft pastry, his long fingers and large knuckles flexing as he pushed the dough around. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt, forearms working with each move. You couldn’t help but notice the few missed buttons at the top of his shirt, pale collar bones peeking out. You’d made out some ridges over his skin, down his neck and tucked away underneath the fabric of his shirt. You couldn’t get a good look at it, not with the dimmed lights and loose shirt. 

He made light conversation, asking about the town, who your favorite patrons were. You’d asked him similar questions, how he likes fencing and polo, he’d indulged you in some childhood stories of wrestling his brothers in the Autumn rain - how they’d tracked mud through the entirety of the Forest House. When it came to his parents, though, the topic was off limits, as he’d scoffed and asked about your parents instead. 

By then, the hours had easily slipped past you - the pastries cooling after their bout in the ovens. Eris leaned against the counter, watching as you sliced the baked pumpkin you held in front of you, scooping the soft contents into a bowl to begin your filling mixture. 

His eyes watched your hands work, unable to meet your eyes, afraid of your response. “I have a confession.” 

You looked up only momentarily, not a stutter in the whisk as you continued mixing. “Confess away,” you replied softly, heart suddenly lurching into your chest. 

He swallowed thickly, but raised his gaze to your face - your focused look - as you stared back down at the bowl. “I - last night after I left - there was a…” He trailed off, sucking in a deep breath. “I felt the…” Eris’s throat was closing. His heart was beating so fast, so hard, that he thought it would break all of his ribs. “I believe we’re mates, (Y/N).”

Your breath caught in your throat, suddenly all air evaded you and your heart seemed to stop. Mates? Mates? Gods, you knew you liked Eris - who wouldn’t? The male was beautiful and tall and kind and -

You swallowed hard. To hide your shaking hands, you continued working on the pastries. You kept you eyes sole trained on the table in front of you, fearful that if you looked up, if you saw those red eyes before you, that you’d surely crumble away in a fit of tears, laughter - you weren’t quite sure.

You were elated.

So fucking elated, in fact, that you didn’t know what to do.

But you didn’t respond. You didn’t make a move - not an eyebrow raise, not a quirk of your lips, nothing. “I know we don’t really know each other - I’ve wanted to stay longer, believe me.” The male rambled on, filling the silence you’d offered. “I just felt this thing last night after I left and it’s been eating me away since and I already knew that I cared for you so much and you’re so - fuck, so godsdamned beautiful but I - ”

You straightened, pulling your shoulders back and dropping the whisk. “It’s okay, Eris.”

His eyes widened. “It’s okay?” What the fuck did that mean?

You’d turned to grab a pastry off the rack - the one you’d kneaded, the one that turned out so much flakier and taller than his. “It’s okay.” You smiled, though, but didn’t falter in your movements, continuing to assemble what looked like a dessert sandwich. 

He stared incredulously at you. “Did you… hear what I said?” 

And so you laughed, a light giggle that had Eris reeling. You pushed over the pumpkin Mille-Feuille, nodding at him as he stared at it like it was otherworldly. “You told me one time you liked the pumpkin turnovers because it was your favorite Autumn Court fruit.”

The male was bug-eyed. “This is for me?”

You nodded.

“Just for me?”

Again, with a smile, you nodded. 

Eris looked between you and the fluffy pastry. “For me?” He raised a hand and gestured between the two of you. 

“Yes, Eris. I made you a pumpkin pastry. For you.” His cheeks tinged pink, but let out a breathy sigh of relief. You added for clarification: “Not on the menu.”

Gods, yes. It was the only thought running through his mind. 

“And even in all that rambling, you haven’t asked me to be your mate,” you continued, voice raised an octave, teasing the poor nervous male. He opened his mouth to interrupt - to ask - but you cut him off. “I would love to be, Eris Vanserra.”

And while his heart rate didn’t slow down, he calmed, shoulders relaxed and eyes shut in relaxation. His hands fell to the treat before him, staring at the perfect little pastry. He could finally breathe again - as if in the past three minutes he’d been stilled, lungs, hands, and mind unable to work properly. 

But Eris dug in anyway, picking up the soft treat like it was the most delicate thing in the world. He took a big bite, holding his free hand underneath, catching all the flakes that broke off, saving every bite. He chewed slowly, licking his lips to savor the pumpkin flavor and the light pastry. His eyes fell to yours, wide and wanting, watching you like a hawk.

You didn’t dare move, frozen in place as the male ate. 

As the bond solidified.

As he became your mate.

By the time he’d finished, his breathing was ragged and he had to press his hands against the counter to keep his balance. You watched his chest rise and fall, the linen shirt loose on his frame but hugged his broad shoulders. Those red eyes burned into yours, as though waiting for you to make the first move. 

Or waiting for your permission. 

So you took a step backward, pushing yourself from where you’d been nearly clinging onto the counter, where it was holding you upright. And as soon as you’d freed yourself from the confines of the countertop, he’d pounced. Eris felt like leaping across the counter and pulling you into his arms. Instead, which might have cost his last ounce of decency, he’d taken the few long strides towards you and grabbed you. 

To be fair, he was as tender as he could have been, what with his heart beating up into his throat and his lungs burning, winding his arms around your back, fingers gripping the cotton that hung loose on your frame. His head dipped, immediately catching your lips with his. You were quick to follow his lead, throwing your arms around his neck and rising on your tiptoes to meet him. 

Gods, he was warm - it was all that you could think of. His heat spread into you, the physical heat, but also those internal flames, the warmth that formed in the center of your chest as the bond built itself between the two of you. Sparks sizzled between you, and you were sure you felt them when your lips met in a fiery kiss. 

Your fingers threaded through your hair as his hands roamed your back. He tasted like cinnamon, like the pumpkin from your mating food, the burnt sage that mirrored in his scent, that filled the cafe as soon as he walked through the door. 

“I don’t know anything about you,” you breathed, a soft sigh against his lips as his mouth skimmed your bottom lip, over your chin, down across your jaw. 

He released something half crossed between a moan and a sigh. “We have time to talk about me,” he whispered against your ear, biting at your soft flesh. “Later.” His lips ran over your cheek again, and he left a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Much, much later.” 

You hummed in response, pressing yourself to his front again, chest, stomachs, legs - all of it. Eris groaned, sinking down on his knees, stopping when he was eye level with you. His red irises burned with an eternal flame, burned into you with the promise of forever. He wrapped his arms fully around your waist, his elbows at your ribs and knees on either side of your legs. He tilted his head forward, only until your lips met, noses brushing against each other. 

Your lips parted on instinct alone, the breath pulled from your lungs when his lips met yours - so soft, barely meeting at all. You could have cried, screamed, grabbed his hair and pulled him further against you. But all he gave you was a touch, so close your eyelashes nearly tangled. His mouth brushed yours again and you snapped - arms linked around him still, pulling him against you. “Upstairs?” You asked, fully against his mouth, the word muffled between your lips and heavy breaths. 

He shook his head, still not breaking the kiss. His hands ran down the small of your back and over your ass, cupping the back of your thighs and pulling you upwards, setting you on the counter in front of him. Eris let his fingers find the hem of your nightgown, trailing over the skin of your bare flesh. You were burning hot, like you ran a fever at his touch. In the cold air, his touch sent shivers down your spine. 

“I can’t wait, (Y/N).” His lips barely left yours. “I have to have you now.”

“Then get on with it,” you mewled, taking his hands in yours and dragging them up your thighs, under the gown. “I’ve been waiting far too long for this, Eris.” 

You leveled his gaze - it struck quite the nerve with him, he never thought he’d succumb to an ethereal being like you, especially not to one he got to call his mate. 

As his hands roamed under your gown, your own explored his chest, running over the lean muscle and pulling at the buttons. You’d pulled them apart one by one, eyes shut and mouth being devoured by Eris. He seemed to pay no mind, working his way to your hips, squeezing at your thighs. You opened the shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, breaking away from him momentarily. 

And Eris felt it, felt it through the fresh bond between you. He felt your heart stutter, felt the shock that flooded your system. 

His heart stopped, lungs held his air hostage. 

And then you’d felt it - the utter disgust and shame that rang through him.

So you raised your hands, holding his jaw in your palms, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone - over the other faint scar that laced his skin. You weren’t sure what to say - if you should say anything at all. But he’d already noticed your surprise. That’s all it was - surprise, not in the hardened male before you, but at that any one male could endure that much pure trauma. You were not disgusted with your mate, not horrified at the scaring.

You we’re just… “What happened to you, my love?”

And he blinked a few times, turning his head in your hands and raising his own hands, holding your wrists in his palms. His throat worked, his mind rolling over the proper response. You moved your hands, dropping them down his cheeks, fingertips grazing the marred skin on his neck, the slashes over his collarbones and down the puckered skin of his chest. His hands remained on yours the whole time, feeling you work your way down his body. 

My love. It made the fire inside of him burn brighter. He imagined you’d felt it too, felt the initial draw toward him like he did to you - even before you were mates. 

“That’s a story for another time.” He whispered, gazing down at you from under his eyelashes. “If you’ll still have me.”

You were almost shocked to hear that - to hear him question your desire to be with him just based on his scars. You wouldn’t expect such doubt from him. So all you could do was sit up a little taller, pull you down to your lips and offer him the most reassuring kiss of his life. 

He made quick work of your dress, unbuttoning the small row of buttons behind your back. You shimmied the dress from under you, where you’d been sitting on the soft fabric, and let Eris bunch it up and drag it up over your sides and arms. He slid it off quickly, discarding it in a pile along with his shirt. His eyes and hands roamed over you, exploring the curves and ridges of your body. 

Your cheeks reddened, so exposed before the male you’d barely known, but longed for him to touch you. You’d thought of this moment many times, during those sleepless nights, some of which ended up leaving you with your hand between your legs. 

Eris felt your blush through the bond, he felt your outright attraction, the desperation you had. And he knew he mirrored it through the bond, too. It’s what made you pull him back into you, until he stepped right up against the counter and the front of those trousers were pressed against your undergarment. He ground against you, unable to hold in the urge as the ferocity flooded his veins, the bond finally taking hold of him now that he had you laid out in front of him. 

You moaned at the feeling, his hardened cock a tent in his pants, slotting perfectly between your lips. He moved up and down, gliding against the warm heat from your pussy, the smooth fabrics only aiding in his desperation - your too. Gods, you could have come from that alone should he only have kept going. 

But the male wasn’t having it. He kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his pants, shucking both along your kitchen floor, discarded for what he hoped would be the next few days. 

Eris’s cock bounced up against his stomach as he neared you, the precum gathered on the tip mixing into the fine pale hairs that trickled down his bellybutton to the base of his cock. Eris wouldn’t even touch himself, deciding it would be fucking ethereal, should you reach out and grab him. 

And, luckily, you did, holding your hand out for him to step back into position. Your hand wrapped around his dick, fully hard and standing proud. You’d surely need two hands to work him properly, perhaps even your mouth, too. His skin was warm in your palm, hot and ready to combust as you ran your hand up and down, offering him a small squeeze as you neared the base, your thumb rubbing the tip when it slid up.

You couldn’t hold out much longer, either. You’d pressed him up right against your pussy as he just did, leaning back on your other elbow so you could further spread your hips. You held his cock with your other hand still, pressing it into your pussy. Eris began to rock, back and forth, back and forth, wincing at how wet your pussy sounded. His cock glided along your cunt effortlessly.

He braced a hand on the counter, on either side of you, and held his hips back. He let you continue to rub his dick as he leaned in close for a chaste kiss. He rubbed his nose against your ear, hot air stirring around you. “Are you going to let me fuck you, my love?” 

You moaned - you’d heard many tales of the trickster male’s wicked tongue, but hadn’t been granted the opportunity to hear him use it around you. You were very much looking forward to exploring that side of him. 

Gone was the chamomile drinking, flower giving High Lord’s son. This was Eris, hot and heady and ready.

His one hand moved over to hold yours, moving your fingers to grab his cock and angle it into you. You gasped as the head nudged your folds, pushing only the tiniest bit in. You clenched around nothing, as he rocked back and forth, the head moving against your entrance but not in. “Will you let me mate you? Fill you up? Claim you?”

“Gods, yes,” you moaned, trying to move off the counter even closer to him, to inch his dick farther into you. “Please, Eris. My mate - ” 

You were cut off with a harsh gasp, Eris sunk halfway in as you rambled on. “Oh my gods - please.” 

He moved slowly, warming you up to his length. “Still so much more for you,” he murmured, holding your hand against your lower stomach. He pressed it softly into you, around your soft flesh, so you could feel him enter in you as he pushed his cock all the way, bottoming out.

He held there for a moment, reveling in how you squeezed your walls around him. It was unlike anything he felt before. The roaring in his chest from the bond fed straight into his cock - willing him to drive into you over and over and over. 

But as much as he wanted to hold himself back, he found himself moving faster and faster, hitting farther inside of you with each stroke. Your moans spurred him on - your gasps, your prayers to the Mother - to him. 

Your hands fell around you, gripping anything you could find, looking to anchor yourself on something, anything. 

“You feel so good, (Y/N).” He huffed, breathing becoming ragged as he fucked into you. “I can’t believe I’ve waited this long for you.”

His cock stretched you, the familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach already causing you to clench around him. “You have me, Eris, fuck.” He grabbed your hips, holding you still, driving into you harder. “Please, more, Eris.” 

So he rutted into you, Eris hooked his knee onto the counter, pushing himself up, joining you on the floury surface. Your arms splayed out, knocking over bowls and eggs, ingredients falling to the floor and clinging to your sweaty skin. He hooked his knees around either side of your hips, positioning himself directly above you, driving straight down into your wet pussy. 

He groaned - an estranged deep noise coming from the male’s throat. His one hand was positioned beside your head, holding himself above you - though, you wouldn’t care if that male suffocated you, if he laid all the weight he’d been holding all his life onto you - the other came to cradle your cheek, holding your jaw with his thumb brushed against your chin. Your breathing mixed with Eris’s, your shared air, heat, love. You sighed, feeling his cock drive deep into you, hit the deep spot inside of you - he stretched you, seeped into you, molded into you. 

He fucked you so hard that you felt yourself moving, inching closer to the edge of the counter. Your hair fell first, starting to fall over your shoulders and off the counter. But Eris held your head, cradled you as you neared the edge, feeling your stomach coil at the rhythmic pounding in your pussy. 

Eris didn’t stop until you came, until your fingernails dug into his biceps and you screamed his name. He followed behind you quickly, his hips snapping into yours until he painted you white, with his cum that marked the bond. He claimed you as his, and silently thanked the Mother for her blessing. 

His bright eyes washed over you, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, lips swollen and bruised from his kisses, crying out for him. He watched how our brows knitted together, your skin was flushed with a pink blush. He committed everything to memory, the heave of your chest, the sweat across your collarbone, your throat working to gasp air. 

He pulled out of you, dastardly watching the mix of both of your cum slide out of your pussy. He longed to feel it, to drag his finger up your sweet cunt, to lick it up. He knelt above you, pushing himself off the counter and grabbing your hips, pulling you centered on the tabletop. You huffed a sigh, arms limp and covered in flour at your sides. 

His warm fingers caressed your hips, your thighs, the muscles burning from being spread so wide. You dragged a hand over his arm, up his shoulder until you met the back of his neck. Your fingers brushed through the back of his red curls. “We made quite the mess.” You were tired, sounded so breathless - it nearly made Eris’s knees wobble. 

He laughed, though, a hearty chuckle, quite proud of his creation. He surveyed the messy kitchen, in no shape to bake, to serve anything made from or around the mess that had become evidence of your mating bond. But after pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, the male was off, walked those long legs to the counter and scribbled down a note on a piece of scrap paper beside your recipe book. 

Even his handwriting was beautiful. “Closed until further notice.” 

He rushed back to you, scooping you in his arms, holding you tightly against him, even as you broke out into a fit of giggles.

“Now you can show me this upstairs I’ve heard so much about.” And you knew right then that you’d be riding the high of your mating frenzy until Eris had learned every inch of you.

[throneofsmut]

BOUND IN FLAMES - Part 9

Eris Vanserra × Archeron-Sister- Reader

Description: Feyre and her younger sister go hunting in the forest behind their family's cottage and go through life changing experiences.

Warnings: None (i think).

Author's Note: None.

Word Court: 3.4k

****

You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep, but it couldn’t have been for long because from the window in Eris’s cabin—your cabin—you could still see the night sky and lit bonfires in the distance. You were still in the same position you were in when you had finished fucking.

You on top of him with him still inside of you.

Eris still had a hand on your hip while the other rubbed lazily across your back.

Slowly pushing up, your hands braced against his muscular chest, “How long was I asleep?” you whispered, your voice still thick with sleep.

He didn’t respond, he only gave you a small smile and continued to rub his hands along your thighs.

“How long was I asleep?” You asked again, and noticed a hint of red in his cheeks. “You were asleep too?”

Eris let out a small laugh, “Until you started squirming trying to get more comfortable.”

You let out a small laugh of your own, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You can go back to sleep if you want. I’ll wake you up before I go back.” Something like anger and pain seemed to flash across his face, his eyes, at the last four words he spoke.

“Before you go back. . . Under the Mountain?”

He nods. Once. Tightly.

Your hands cupped his face, making him meet your gaze, “I don’t want to sleep then. Let’s spend our last night together.”

Those amber eyes, his eyes, searched your face, for what you don’t know, but then he was kissing you. Wordlessly he pulled away and then he was carrying you to the bathroom and sat you atop the counter.

Watching him as he filled the tub with water, added soaps and oils to it. Then he grabbed bottles of hair products and towels before setting them on the chair near the tub then carried you to the tub and placed you in it. He followed in right after and silently washed your hair and skin. Placing soft kisses as he went and you did the same for him. When you were done he dried you both off and then you dressed.

You were waiting for him to finish lacing up his boots when he caught you yawning, “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, little flame?”

“I’m sure,” you nod. “Do you have any food here? I’m starving.”

“No, but, there is an orange grove and grape vineyard a mile back.”

You arch a brow, “What kind of grapes?”

“Green.”

“Autumn or Spring?”

“Autumn,” he smirks, “why?”

“I haven’t had Autumn grapes in years and they’re my favorite.”

He laughs softly, “So, no, oranges?”

“I mean, I love oranges too, but I don’t want to peel them. I hate how my hands feel after. And Autumn grapes are always crispy.”

He walks up to you, placing his hands on your hips, “I’ll peel them for you.”

But before you get a chance to respond he leads you out of the cabin and the crisp autumn night breeze hits your face. Eris puts his arm over your shoulders, tucking you into him and one of your hand fists the back of his tunic as if he’ll vanish. As he leads you down a trail, towards the vineyard and grove.

“So your favorite color is blue and autumn green grapes are your favorite, you love oranges. . . What else?” Eris asks.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“I don’t know anything about you. So how about a question for a question ?” You offer.

“All right, fair enough.”

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask.

“Red.”

You snort, “That’s not surprising.”

“Family?” He asks.

“My mother died when I was young and my father doesn’t know about me. . . at least he acts like he doesn’t.”

Your mate leans down and places another kiss atop your head, “I’m sorry, little flame.”

“Me too,” you whisper. “Anyways, what about you?”

“My mother and father are both still alive. No sisters. Six younger brothers, but two died years ago.”

“Lucien told me about that. Where you. . . one of the ones—“

“One of the ones holding him down while his lover was executed? No.” He looks over his shoulder, “Who do you think got word to Tamlin and slowed down my other brothers?”

“Does Lucien know?” you ask softly.

“If he does, he doesn’t show it.” He answers. “What about you, any siblings?”

“No,” you breathe. “But, after my mother died, another family took me in and they already had three daughters. They became my family or the closest thing I had to one. The three of them were like my sisters—they are my sisters.”

“Older or younger?”

“All older.”

“Are you close with them?”

“Uh, no, not really. Just with the youngest one out of the three. The two oldest ones were closer to each other and the third one and I were closer.” You confess and some part of you wishes you had tried more to get along with Nesta and Elain. To get closer. Since you might not have the chance to later. “What about you and your brothers? Are you close with them?”

Eris lets out a bitter laugh, “Gods, no. When we were younger I tried to protect them from our father, before he could turn them into cruel, sick bastards—“

“Like him?” You finish for him.

“Like him,” he nods. “Then when we got older, I had to keep them in check,” another bitter laugh, “while playing the cold, cruel and calculating heir of autumn.” He stops. Then moves to stand in front of you and struggles to meet your eyes. “You’re going to hear things about me, if you haven’t already and—“

“I’ve done things too,” you tell him. “And I’m going to do more.”

You’ve already made your peace with doing whatever you have to do to kill Amarantha and those who get in your way. For your mother, for the summer court faerie, for Lucien and anyone else she’s hurt. And for you.

“What are you talking about. . . what have you done ?” His large hands cup your face, tilting your head up, making you look at him. “Talk to me. . . please,” he says. Softly. Gently.

“We become monsters, to survive monsters.” You say deathly soft and Eris’s brows furrow as he searches your face for more answers, but it’s too late. You’ve already put on the cold mask you’ve worn for years.

“What happened? What have you d— What are you going to do?”

You shook your head, “I won’t ask you what you’ve done or what you’ll do and neither should you.” You hardly recognize your own voice. Except for the coldness of it. The sharpness of it.

Eris let go of your face and took one, two, three steps back. Away from you. Then he runs his right hand through his hair before covering his mouth with the back of it. He lets out a shaky breath, “Do you not trust me—did I do something?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, you look at him. Really look at him and realize that his hands are shaking, his heart is racing and his breathing is uneven.

He’s nervous. Scared.

Scared of what you’ll say and the fact that you haven’t said anything is only making it worse. You blink once and you can see yourself through his eyes. Your head is cocked in a way that is more animalistic than anything. Like a predator sizing up its prey. You blinked again and now you’re looking at him through your own eyes again.

Shaking your head, “No, Eris, you haven’t done anything.” You tell him, hoping to soothe his nerves.

He lets out a sharp breath. His hands have stopped shaking and his heart isn’t racing anymore. “So you don’t trust me.” He’s says it more to himself than to you.

“I never said that.”

“Then what is it?” He says feigning nonchalance, but you can still hear the doubt lacing his words.

“There’s no point in me telling you, when you’ll see it,” you admit.

He prowled closer to you until you were chest to chest, needing to crane your neck back to look him in the eyes because of your height difference. You forgot how tall he was—how powerfully built he was.

A muscle in his jaw feathered before he spoke, “If you’re not going to tell me what you’re talking about, then tell me something real.” Not a request, a command.

“I’m scared,” you whisper. His brows furrow and his eyes widen, that wasn’t at all what he had expected you to say. “I’m scared of how you’ll feel when you find out about the real me. . . When you see the real me. Who I am.”

It’s no secret that none of the seven courts are really friends, but your mother used to tell you about how feared she and her brother were. Her twin. He is the most powerful High Lord in history and she is—was—the most powerful female in history. And how feared their inner circle is.

Your mother was second in command to her brother. His third in command is more powerful than them but her power is different. Otherworldly. Their cousin is his fourth and she has the power of truth. The general of his armies and his spymaster are the most powerful Illyrian’s in history. Each needing seven siphons to hold the raw killing power they possess. And his spymaster is also a shadowsinger.

You inherited your mother and her brother’s magic and then some from your father, but you had also been born with the power of fire. You used to ask her why you had fire and she didn’t, if she was from Night and my father wasn’t from Autumn or the Day Court. And she would simply kiss the palms of your hands and say, “Is the sun not a star.”

She always told you, you were blessed by the Mother and the Cauldron for having so much power. But, as you got older you realized she said that because you’d been born with a target on your back. Which was why she trained you the way she did.

You let out a few sharp breaths, trying to will away the tears pooling in your eyes, to no avail. “When you find out what I did and. . . what I’m going to do. What I can do. What I will do.” Your throat working as you spoke your last fear, eyes squeezing shut, “I’m scared that you’ll die because of me. Just for being my mate. . . and I won’t be able to do anything about.”

Your eyes are still squeezed shut as you feel Eris gently, so gently, tuck your hair behind your now rounded ears. His fingers tracing the rounded curve of them so softly. And it’s all you can do to not flinch beneath his touch.

You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until he whispered, “The real you. . . the real you, that has pointed ears.”

Not exactly a question, but you nodded your head anyways.

“Can you show me?” His voice was gentle like his touch had been moments ago.

You shake your head, “Even if I wanted to, I can’t.”

“Can you tell me, why?”

“It’s a blood spell.” Your voice was barely audible, you only knew he heard you because of how close we were. “My mother made it so that only someone on her side of the family could undo it. I can’t do it.” You left out the part that there’s only one person alive in the entire world that could do it and you don’t even know if he would do it. “I can show you my true form for a couple seconds, but the. . .“ Your voice trailed off as you remembered how much pain you felt when you showed yourself to Raihn. How it intensified until it was all you knew. Until it nearly killed you.

“But, what?”

Eris’s voice brought you back to the present and you shook your head, “But, the pain I’d feel, would be all consuming. Searing. So hot that it felt impossibly cold, until it killed me. . . I’ve only done it once before and was surprised I survived. I doubt I would survive it a second time.”

The only reason you survived then was because Raihn had channeled some of his power into you. And continued throughout the next couple days. Since the blood spell suppresses your powers. You can only feel that you still have your magic—barely—but you can’t access it. Except for one, but it’s not much. It feels like a drop instead of a vast ocean like it used to.

“Why are you scared of how I’ll feel when I see you? Did the blood spell affect your physical appearance?” Eris asked.

You nodded your head, “I still look the same, but my coloring is different. This isn’t my true hair or eye color.”

“Do your sisters know?”

“No,” you breathed, “and they’d probably hate me. For lying and being fae.”

“Look at me.”

You shook your head.

“Little flame, look at me.” His voice a plea and prayer.

So you did.

“Because you told me something real, I’ll tell you something real,” his throat bobbing, “You're capable of hurting me in ways I'm not sure you've even begun to fathom. I might be skilled enough to land a death blow, but you alone have the power to fucking destroy me. And I would let you because you are everything to me. Do you understand that ?” His voice raw with emotion.

“Yes,” you said softly.

You didn’t even realize you had started crying again until Eris was wiping them away. “I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done, you’re my mate. Mine.”

You had no more words for him—your eyes saying what you couldn’t put into words. A new sort of vulnerability as you laid yourself bare for him. Eris. My mate. Mine. A challenge thrown down. Waiting to see how he would react.

Eris Pov:

How many others had run from this part of her, not being able to handle all that she is? I hated them all merely for putting the question in her eyes.

I love her as she is. All that she is.

I wouldn’t run from her. No, I only met her stare as I let her see all of me too. Her throat bobbed before her lips curved up into a smirk. My eyes falling to her lips, tracking the movement and then back up to her eyes. Without even thinking my hands settled on her hips, her cheeks flushing from my touch, her pupils flaring.

I see you, I silently conveyed to her. And I like all of it.

Likewise, her smirk seemed to say.

Dragging my eyes from the smirk that made the floor a little uneven. I gripped her hips a little tighter with hands that were surprisingly shaky. Then my mouth was on hers. Claiming her.

I begrudgingly pulled away from her when my stomach growled, quietly cursing myself while she laughed at me. “Come on, let’s get the grapes and oranges.”

****

Reader POV:

Eris winnowed you back to the cabin, his arms full of grapes and oranges along two plates piled with meat and sauce and bread, and a bottle of red sparkling wine—he said he would hold it all.

Eris was hesitant to take it, but Bayne—the owner of the vineyard and orange grove—insisted. You were the one that had knocked on his door. The last time you saw him you were eight years old, yet something like recognition flared in his eyes when he took you in. It took him a moment to respond when you asked if you could pick some grapes and oranges, but he said yes and went back into his home. So Eris and you went about picking them when he came out with two plates in hand. Startling when he saw you were with Eris.

It didn’t help that, Eris immediately stood between you. Walking around him, to hand Bayne a few gold coins—more than what was needed—but he had always been kind to you and your mother. He politely declined and insisted you take the plates. Bowing your head in thanks and took them, Eris’s voice cut between your silent interaction. “Why?” he asked.

Bayne never took his eyes off you as he said sadly, “She reminds me of someone. . . of an old friend who passed a few years ago.” An old friend—your mother.

Eris didn’t say anything else as you handed him the two plates you were holding and placed the gold coins in his hand and thanked him again. Then Eris winnowed you back to the cabin. And you both ate your plates in comfortable silence. You sat atop the kitchen counter and he remained standing, next to you.

He finished his plate before you did and kept true to his word. He silently went about rinsing the grapes and peeling oranges before plating them between you. And once you finished your plate, he took it and washed it, before pushing the plate of fruit closer to you. Moaning at the taste of them and he laughed softly. “Good?”

“So fucking good.” You said around a mouthful of orange, which earned you another mirthy laugh from him.

****

You had moved back to the bedroom, your head settled on his chest, his hand playing with your hair as the other rested on the small of your back.

Huffing as you looked out the window.

“What’s wrong, little flame,” he asked.

“It’s almost dawn,” you grumbled. Which meant it was almost time for him to go back Under the Mountain.

He kissed the top of your head, “We’ll see each other again. Soon.” He promised.

And he had no idea how true that was.

But, right now, you wanted him. No, needed him. You needed him. To feel him, incase you wouldn’t have the chance to again.

He didn’t stop you as you moved to straddle him. Not as you pulled at his tunic—a silent request for him to take it off, and he did. He didn’t say anything as you leaned down, kissing his lips, his neck, his chest. The only thing you heard was his heart pounding, when your fingers lightly skimmed where his skin and his pants met. You weren’t sure he was breathing and just to see what he’d do, you palmed him through his pants.

Eris barked a curse.

You laughed quietly, kissing his chest again, and then swirled your tongue around his nipple, teasingly, letting him know what was to come.

And when you laid your palm flat on him again, “You’re mine,” you breathed.

Eris’s breathing started again, jagged and savage. Feral. You flicked open the top button of his pants. “I’m yours,” he ground out.

Another button popped free. Then the third, but then you felt him before you heard him.

Raihn.

It’s nearly dawn, his deep gruff voice sounded in your head. He was pissed and now so were you.

You growled and Eris just stared at you confused. Shaking your head at him and before you could tell Raihn to go back to the Manor, his growl shook the entire cabin and seconds later he had broke down the door and was in the bedroom. Snarling and baring his teeth.

It was all Eris could do to put you between him and the wall. His body a solid wall between you and the white wolf. Raihn’s eyes fell to the dagger Eris was clutching, his knuckles white from the grip. Then the wolf’s eyes tracked the hand Eris had placed on you protectively. Raihn cocked his head, his snout twitching once, twice, scenting us. Scenting Eris and he growled, baring his teeth in a snarl.

Eris readied himself for the massive wolf’s attack, but before he could do anything you snarled at Raihn, “I’m gonna kill you!” Raihn only growled in response.

Trying to make your way to him, but Eris was holding you back, Raihn noticed and took a step forward. He snapped at Eris in warning and Eris to his credit didn’t falter, he only readjusted his grip on his dagger. You rolled your eyes, pushing past Eris, standing right in front of Raihn, “I’m gonna kill you!” Pinching the bridge of your nose, “I told you to stay in my room, you know it’s not safe out here for you. They’re hunting you!”

He let out an annoyed huff.

“And you can’t just barge in like that, where are your manners ?” You said scolding him like a mother would a child—your hands now on your hips—and he whined. You turned back to look at Eris, still shaking your head at Raihn, and he—Eris— was just gaping at you.

For other parts: Bound In Flames Series Masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 10 part 11

Taglist: @historygeekqueen @cat-or-kitten @yeeyeebabe @khaleesihavilliard @impossibelle @sleepylunarwolf @cutie232 @meepmeep-318 @belledawnidk @fandomrejects @wasntpriscilla @brandywineeeee @consultinghuntresshasthetardis @thescooby-gang @annblvd @poetryinshadows @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @esposadomd @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @glaciuswduo @laceandsuch @hnyclover @spookyboogyuniverse @kennedy-brooke @minaethrym @lili-flower03

*If you would like to be added to the taglist for this story or to my general taglist, please either reply to this post or send me a message.

[highladyofdawn]

—Never just Eris. | READ ON AO3

Ruthless Tethers, Ravenous Embers - Chapter V "If he were a better male, cornering Rhaedyn Caranthir into a bargain may have wrought him with guilt—or shame. But he was never a good male, contrary to what that Illyrian brute surmised. He would do whatever was necessary to eliminate his father—morality be damned. Eris didn’t need the world to believe him a saint like those self-proclaimed heroes in the Night Court. He would gladly be the villain to see his court thrive and his mother’s nights safe."

[harrystylesfan2686]

Revenge

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: When your ex destroys your most precious thing what do you do? Cry? Of course but not before taking revenge.

A/N: First Eris fic!!🥳 Reader is Rhysand's sister. I think I went a little overboard... oh well🤷‍♀️

Masterlist

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What The Fuck?

I gasp the second I walk into my library, noticing the gaps in the shelves. My library shelves never have space. The whole room is filled with my most precious obsession.

My books.

Where the hell are my books?

When I walk deeper into the room, I notice a big box in the middle. The rectangular box is gift wrapped with a red shiny wrap, held together by a orange bow on top.

On closer observation, I see an envelope tucked under the ribbon. I take it out and open it, seeing only two sentences scribbled in perfectly fine handwriting, a handwriting I know by heart. Eris.

Seems like we are at war now, sweetheart. How do you like my gift?

My eyebrows furrow. I put down the note and envelope, and open the bow, tearing the gift wrap, I lift the lid.

I freeze upon seeing ash.

The box is filled with ash. Grey mixing with black, creating a rather beautiful image. Except it isn't admirable. When I touch the ash mixed with small pieces of paper that hasn't fully burned. My books.

He burned my books.

I intake a sharp breath, my vision blurs as tears fill my eyes but I don't let them fall. Some people might say I'm overreacting, but I'm not. My books are everything to me. I love them. I treat them better then I treat myself.

And He burned My Books.

That piece of shit.

He knew how much I love them. I've talked to him thousands of time about my books, expressing my feelings about them. I don't even let anyone so much as, touch my books. But I let him. I trusted him.

I loved him. We broke up because his father attacked us. Barron ordered a few Autum Court soldiers to parad down at the Court of Nightmares and kill innocent people, not that the people living there are innocent in anyway, but by attacking a part of Night Court, he declared War.

I gave him a choice, choose between me and his father. I was stupid enough to hope he would choose me. Of course it would be his father. Even though he hates his father to guts, he would still need him to make him high lord. And being The High Lord of Autum Court meant more to him than anything else, including me.

So now we are at War. Two courts fighting against each other. What could go wrong, eh? Apparently everything.

None of the other courts want to help any of us. They don't want unnecessary violence, which is alright, considering Night Court is much stronger than Autum Court. Barron is a fool to think he can win. And now, Eris is too, as it seems.

I blink my eyes clear of tears and stand up. I count the empty shelves where there once were books, trying to see how many I lost. Sixty–Five. He destroyed sixty–five of my most loved books.

Rage burns in my veins. Hurt overcome by anger. The need to burn him in exchange fills my entire body. But I calm myself before I do something idiotic. I take deep breaths trying to plan what I'm going to do in return. I get out of the room, taking careful steps as I go.

You want to play? Fine. Let's play.

-☆-

I twist my hand, snapping the necks of the two guards standing in front of the entrance. I slam open the doors without touching them, barreling down the halls of Autum Court Palace.

This is too easy.

Killing every guard that comes in my way, I go to the main hall. I almost feel bad for the people loosing their life over something their stupid prince did, but my mind is seeing and feeling nothing but red.

When I first described my plan to Rhysand, he was hesitant to let me leave, but realizing that we would be at advantage in this fight by the end of it, he gave me permission.

Now here I am. Walking through enemy land, like a I own it. Removing every obstacle that comes between me and my destination.

I push the doors to the throne room open, and scoff at the few high fea trying to keep me out by their so called magic. I raise an eyebrow and stand their for a few minutes, giving them a chance to stop me. I smirk at their pathetic attempts of imprison me.

I am most powerful here, and they know it.

I raise my hands and twist my wrists, snapping a dozen necks in one motion. I walk father into the room rolling my eyes at the laying bodies. Such a mess.

I take a look around the room. The red carpet running in a straight line from the door to the throne. The levels containing seats for every nobal in Barron's circle. And finally the throne Eris so badly wants to sit at.

Coloured with different shades of red, orange and yellow mixing together. Backrest shaped like fire, built so tall I have to crane my neck to see the top. It's beautiful, I'm not going to lie. Almost makes me feel bad for what I'm about to do.

I turn back around, walking out the same way I walked in. Passing the fallen bodies, I snap my fingers once. Heat explods behind me as I walk out of the door. When I turn to look at the damage I'm doing, I smile.

Fire is lined up from the throne, quickly catching and burning everything in it's way. I smile brighter when I slam the doors shut and drop a small note on the ground near them. He burned my books so I'm burning to only thing he holds most dear in this entire world.

It seems we are. Hope you like my gift.

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