#Tamlin/Flora

[nocasdatsgay]

Baby of Mine A Spring Time Affairs Fic

Day 7 of @polyacotarweek Free Day

Pairing: Tamlin/OC/Elain/Lucien | Rating: T| Word count: 3778

Master List | Poly Week Masterpost | Read on AO3

Summary: After Calanmai and forgetting to take the tea, Flora is pregnant. The problem is, she doesn’t know if Tamlin or Lucien is the father.

Warnings: Pregnancy, Anxiety, base level childbirth mentions, a baby

AN: WE DID IT FOLKS! Last day of the week. I can’t want to go through the Masterlist and read what I have missed while writing. Thank you for all the likes and comments. PS: Can you catch the Beast of the Briars call out?

Tagging: @saltedcoffeescotch @ysmtttty

Tamlin said he did not care. 

Lucien and Elain both said they didn’t care. 

But Flora did. 

The stress was evident on her face as she turned in front of the mirror, gaze dropping down to her bare stomach. She was starting to show. New clothes would be in soon, her old ones already feeling snug. She didn’t want to despise the babe in her belly but gods it was hard to not let her worries get to her. 

She was Tamlin’s wife. She had a duty to him to have his heir. What would the court do if her babe came out with red hair or russet eyes? Their relationship wasn’t a secret. Everyone knew. But they’d been so careful and then Calanmai came and the one time she forgot to put contraceptives in her system, she ended up pregnant. 

She hoped it was the first undiluted magic that conceived this child. Tamlin took her into the cave. They made love on that stone and released all that magic back into the world. What happened with Lucien and Elain after wasn’t under the same pull of ancient magic. But doubt plagued her. Her plants showed her there was no difference between the first wave of magic and after. It could easily be the same with her. 

“Flora?” Tamlin’s voice dragged her out of her thoughts. Her gaze met his through the mirror. “Is everything alright?” 

Tamlin stayed nervous about her condition. She knew why. He was worried she would fall into a depression or worse. He was constantly encouraging her to engage with the court, to go outside with Elain. It warred with his want to keep her inside and safe. His mistakes in the past haunted him. Even after all the time that passed. 

“I just-“ she looked back at where her hand rested on her stomach. “You know I worry.” 

“I don’t care what others may think. You know this.” 

“They’ll talk, Tamlin,” tears built in her eyes. Her worries she had been holding in came tumbling out. “What good am I? If my first born is not your heir? This is a child, Tamlin. What if it is Lucien’s? What if it triggers something in Elain? They’re mates.”

“Flora.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked and tears spilt. “It’s awful to think these things, I know. I'm horrible.”

“You’re not horrible, my wildflower.” Tamlin came up to her, wrapping his arms around her. One hand splayed over her stomach. “How long have you felt like this?” 

“Since I found out.” 

She grabbed one of his arms with her hand to mentally steady herself. She hadn’t spoken out loud how she felt. She feigned excitement; they were so happy when her scent changed. She didn’t want to take that away from them just because she worried. 

“Honey.” She winced at the sadness in his tone. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

“I didn’t want to upset you.”

“You’ll never upset me.” She felt him kiss the back of her head. “I know you worry but our babe is so loved already and that’s all that matters.” 

She nodded and leaned back into the embrace of her husband. Tamlin was the most excited out of all of them. She just hoped she could match his enthusiasm sooner rather than later. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She officially was showing and barely made it out alive from the Court announcement party. So many congratulations, each one meant well but still grated her. She was a perfect Lady of Spring, faking her smile and when someone did notice, it was explained off as hormones. Tam watched her the whole time, ready to scoop her up and out of the room if needed. She finally feigned tiredness and excused herself. 

It was a relief to enter the empty hall. Though she was not alone for long. She made it up the stairs before running into one of the two people who put her in this predicament. Lucien’s gold eye clicked rapidly as he came up to her, studying her face. She had not seen him since his return this morning from visiting Day Court. 

“How did it go?”

Flora rolled her eyes. “I swear if I hear one more congratulations I am going to vomit.”

”So it went well. Good.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “And how are you? How’s my little one?”

”I am tired and annoyed. And you don’t know for certain, if this babe is yours,” she snapped. She regretted it the second the words left her mouth. “The baby is fine, Lucien. I didn’t mean- I’m sorry. That was unkind of me.”

“It was.” He didn’t hide the hurt on his face. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t mean that. I’m sorry.”  She looked down in shame. She’d never spoken to Lucien like that before. She was horrid. 

“Flora, look at me, I do forgive you.” He reached his hand under her chin and tilted it up so she would look at him. “I get it and I’m sure the announcement party didn’t help.”

Her eyes watered. “It really didn’t. None of them have any idea. They all just assume this was planned. They all just assume this is Tamlin’s and when I try to correct them, they just -” She took a shaky breath and her hand went to the small bump poking out from her dress. “Tam says stress isn’t good for the baby.”

”It’s not,” Lucien replied. “If they’re mine, they might come out looking grumpy and be mistaken for Eris if you aren’t careful. Try explaining that to the court.”

That made her laugh. “You’re right.” She gave him a soft smile. “He’s a boy, by the way. Don’t tell Elain, she doesn’t know yet.”

Lucien’s grin beamed with likeness of the sun. “We’re having a boy?”

“Yes. We are having a boy.” She paused and bit her lip. She knew the answer but after the party, her worries continued to fall from her lips without warning. “If this is Tam’s baby, are you sure you aren’t going to be mad?”

Lucien sighed. “I’ve already told you, it doesn’t matter if he’s mine or Tam’s, he will be ours.” Lucien tapped his finger on her nose. “Get those thoughts out of your mind. Don’t let the courtiers get to you. And go tell Elain before I find her first. I won’t be able to help myself and she’ll be livid you told me first.” 

Flora nodded and smiled again. Lucien always knew how to make her feel better. She stood on her toes and gave him a quick kiss before setting off to find Elain. He was right on that part; Elain was going to be livid she was the last to know. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tamlin made her nap in a guest room citing he ‘had a surprise’ for her. She was too tired to question it. Five months in and between being either absolutely insatiable and exhausted, she took his word for it and laid down. It wasn’t until after dinner that night, he escorted her to their rooms, grinning the whole time. 

“What did you do?” She asked, not able to suppress her own smile. 

“Come see.” 

They entered through the sitting room and into their bed chamber. Nothing looked different; Tamlin guided her forward into the next room and she gasped. The nursery was finished- and fully finished. Her hand went instantly to her stomach, where she felt the flutters of life moving inside her. 

“It’s beautiful,” she blinked back her tears. “Oh, Tamlin.” 

She called out things as she noticed them. The walls were painted a pretty light green. A bassinet in the middle and an oak crib against the wall near their room for later. Even the rug was beautiful- her favorite flowers stitched in throughout. Other furniture filled the room, all a deep oak like the crib. There was even a rocking chair and bookshelf by the window. 

“Do you notice anything else?” 

She frowned, looking up at her husband’s knowing smirk. She looked around the room again- everything was new. The room even smelled of wood still. She frowned harder; that wasn’t right. She glanced around the room again and finally noticed it. A new door opposite their own. 

“Where does that go?” She asked. 

“To Lu and Lainy’s rooms.” 

She jerked her head towards him again with her mouth open. “They’re moving? Really?” 

They talked about it so often before that Flora thought it was mute at this point. She desperately wanted them to be closer than where their rooms were now on the other side of the manor but didn’t want to push them. They deserved their own space. Even with the baby- especially with the baby. But knowing they agreed to move closer- she started crying. 

“We’ve been waiting for time to put the door in so they’d have access to the nursery too if needed.” Tamlin reached up and wiped her tears. “These are happy ones, correct?” She nodded. “Good. Come, I want you to pick out the curtains for the window.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Three more months to go and Flora was ready to evict this baby now. Sitting was a little uncomfortable, her belly becoming rounder by the day. It didn’t help that her babe started to kick daily, for no other reason than to make his mother uncomfortable. 

Even outside in the garden, where the chairs could lounge out to prop up one’s feet weren’t comfortable. It was Elain’s idea to take their tea outside today. Flora shuffled about in her chair while Elain poured tea into a cup. 

“Drink this,” Elain sat the tea cup and saucer beside her. 

“What is it?” Flora was scared to sniff it. Last time she smelled anything but black tea she nearly hurled. Though that was early on in her pregnancy. She avoided it ever since. 

“Raspberry mint. I made it for Feyre and it seemed to help with the second pregnancy.”

She took a hesitant sip and her eyes widened right before she downed more of it. She sat back her chair and made an inappropriate noise. 

“This is the best tea I’ve ever had.” She took another drink from the saucer. “Thank you Elain.”

“You’re welcome. Hopefully it calms the little rascal.” 

Flora nodded and resisted the urge to down the rest of her cup. She set aside and watched Elain take a sip of her own tea. 

“How are your sisters?” 

Elain contemplated for a moment. Flora didn’t know if that was a bad sign or not. 

“Nesta has taken on a writing project.” Elain cut her eyes to Flora with a knowing look. “A romance novel.” 

Flora sat up straighter. “Really? On a scale of what I read and what you read, how smutty is it?” 

“What you read. You know Nes adores those Drake books. Stands to reason she would write something equally scandalous.” 

“You know you love those books too,” Flora playfully rolled her eyes. “I hope she completes it. Tell her I look forward to having a copy on my bookshelf.”

Elain grinned. “I will make sure to let her know.”

“And Feyre? How is she?” 

Flora held no ill will to the female. What happened between her and Tamlin was in the past. 

“She’s good. The twins are giving her hell.” Flora laughed at that. “She handed off her workshops to local artists. So now she’s only supervising the ones in Illyria and Hewn city, occasionally hosting an event.” 

“I thought you mentioned she planned for that?” 

Elain took a sip of her tea. “She did. She’s just been putting off for decades. She’s worse than Lucien, having her hands in so many pots.” 

Flora couldn’t disagree. She picked her tea backup and drank the rest before it was too cold. It was only minutes later when she realized she could still feel the baby move but his kicking stopped. 

“By the cauldron I thought he’d never stop. You’re a lifesaver, Lainy.” 

She only smiled and took another sip of her tea. They settled into a nice silence but Flora’s mind spiraled. No longer focused on her baby’s excessive kicking, she couldn’t help but wonder further about Elain’s sisters. She hadn’t had time to ask. Or even think about it but now…

“Elain?” She hummed in acknowledgment. Flora smoothed out the fabric on her belly idly. “Have you explained to your sisters he might be Lucien’s?” 

“I have.” She replied. “They are aware we have a different relationship, the four of us. They are understanding. You don’t know them as well as I do, but I promise they will not care. If they did, I would never let them hear the end of it.”

She accepted that response. Elain studied her for a moment, then reached over, placing her hand on Flora’s stomach. 

“No matter what, this is our baby. We’ve been over this. I will love him no matter who fathered him.”

“I know, I know. Thank you.” 

Elain gave her a soft smile and pulled back her hand to stand. She came over and gave Flora a quick kiss. She patted Flora’s shoulder. 

“Come, let’s clean this up and go bother our husbands.” She said with a grin. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The time finally came and Flora labored off and on for days. The whole time Tamlin never left her side. Lucien kept the court running and Elain took over the kitchens by cooking. She’d brought all kinds of food every few hours to see if Flora would eat. Flora took most of the pastries. She joked the baby had a sweet tooth but they all knew it was just Flora’s preference. 

It felt like an eternity passed before it came time to push. Their healer in the room supervised as planned. With Lucien and Elain flanking her sides, and holding her hands, Tamlin caught their child as he was pushed out into this world. Flora should have known the second she felt the head crown and Tamlin’s widened, what was about to happen. Of course she was too focused on screaming her own lungs out from the pain and pressure to realize it for what it was.

Their healer beside him cleaned out the baby's mouth and wails filled the room. Flora was finally handed a baby boy with the brightest red hair she’d ever seen in her life. And she laughed. She laughed and cried as she pulled her baby to her chest. All those months of worry, all the love for this tiny little being she grew in her body, and all the stress from labor hit her at once. 

It was bittersweet but not in the way she expected or planned for. She didn’t realize Elain had moved off the bed until Tamlin was right beside her, hands cupping her face as he kissed her forehead then her lips. He was crying too but there was no sadness in his eyes. No words were exchanged; they weren’t needed. It was their healer who finally intervened, moving Tamlin so her assistant could take the baby to clean up and she could take over for the rest of the process. Flora looked over to see Lucien and Elain still by her side. Both of them had red eyes also. 

“We have a baby,” Flora choked out, tears renewed. Both of them grinned at her. 

“We do,” Lucien laughed through his tears. 

They both gave her a long kiss each before the healer shooed them out to give Flora some space. They all agreed when she first became pregnant that no matter what, she wanted Tamlin by her side during the first few hours of recovery. She still felt guilty sending Lucien out, knowing what she knew now. 

The guilt didn’t last long when she felt like she had to push again. 

Tamlin was utterly smitten. Flora watched him cradle their baby in his arms while the head healer made certain everything else was gone and felt around her stomach. He was so gentle, like he was afraid he would break him. The healer finally took the baby back to show Flora how to feed him. Once he was settled, they cleaned up and Flora moved into their room. 

After some time with just her and the baby, Tamlin came back to join her on the bed. She also finally realized how exhausted she was. Being back in her own bed, with her baby calm had relaxed her heavily. Tamlin put their son in the cradle by the bed and crawled up next to her. They were silent for a long time, so much she almost fell asleep with Tamlin rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. His soft voice pulled her back from sleep. 

“Flora?” 

“Tam.”

“How do you feel?” He was still stroking her knuckles nervously. 

“Exhausted.” She knew that’s not what he meant. “Numb. I worried so much. I was so anxious. Now it’s over and I don’t feel anything.”

“Look at me,” he pulled back and tilted her chin up gently. His sad green eyes pleaded with hers. “The second you start feeling upset or overwhelmed, you tell me. Because you will- you just had a baby, our baby. Your body might be in shock.”

He let go and she nodded. “I know. I promise. I love you.”

“I love you,” he kissed her forehead. “Do you want to bring Lu and Lainy in? Or do you want to rest?” 

“They can come in. They need to meet their son proper.” She grinned when she said that. Their son. The four of them. 

“I’ll get them.” 

Tamlin went through the door to the nursery and shortly came back with Lucien and Elain right behind him. After a few exchanges of kisses with Flora, Lucien took the babe first. Elain came and sat by her while Lucien stood, rocking the baby gently in his arms. 

Then his brows furrowed, confusion etched in his face. “Are we sure he’s mine?” 

“That’s exactly what Beron said when you were born,” Tamlin replied immediately, causing Flora and Elain to snort with laughter. 

“No, I mean it,” Lucien replied through his own chuckles. “His eyes are green.” 

“No, they aren’t,” Flora replied. 

She had stared at her son the whole time she had him and fed him. Not once did she notice his eyes being green when he opened them. Elain got up and Lucien lowered him for her to look. Shock went over her face. 

“Flora, they’re green.” 

They brought their son over to her. She frowned as she took him and he grunted from being passed around. It took a moment for him to open his eyes again. Flora’s mouth fell open. Her son’s eyes were green. Tamlin’s green. 

Tamlin looked down at their son with a soft smile. “The Mother has a sense of humor. When we said our baby she knew we meant it.” He sighed and looked at his wife. “Do you still want to wait? Before we tell your parents he’s here?”

“Gods yes.” Flora’s parents always meant well, but were so overbearing sometimes. “I need a few days before my mother descends upon the manor. I’m also going to need all three of you here to explain this.” She smoothed her son's red hair gently. 

Along with overbearing, they weren’t understanding of her relationships. They only kept their mouths shut thanks to Tamlin being High Lord. Elain’s sisters understood. Lucien’s parents understood a little too well, considering who his father was. Flora was going to have to mentally prepare for the explanations she’d have to provide. Elain pulled her from her thoughts, moving her mate to sit beside Flora. 

“Have you picked the name?” 

Elain looked between her and Tamlin with her big doe eyes, innocently trying to hide her excitement. She’d been begging them to tell her what they picked for weeks. A small list was made by the four of them and from there, her and Tam picked two weeks ago. 

“Yes Lainey,” Flora bumped her forehead gently against Elain’s. “We’re going with Ezryn.” 

“Not the grumpy one,” Lucien exclaimed albeit playfully. 

Before Flora could even scold him, Ezryn grunted and shuffled in his swaddle. It would have been perfect timing if his hair hadn’t changed from bright red to brown. Her eyes widened as she just stared at her baby, silence between the four of them deafening. It was finally Elain, who said something. 

“Oh he’s going to be a rascal.” She covered her mouth and looked at her mate. 

Then Flora laughed again. Laughed and cried like she had when she held him for the first time. The whole time she was worried about his hair and he changed it. Which meant her worries, her acceptance of her fate, was all a waste. Tamlin was laughing too, his head on her shoulder. 

“He’s worse than you,” she wiped her eyes, turning her head to her husband. “By the mother he’s only a few hours old.”

“I still think he’s Lucien’s,” Tamlin chuckled, which sent Lucien howling. 

Ezryn did not like that. To be fair to him, his little fae ears could only handle so much. Tamlin took him, rocking him gently in his arms. Lucien and Elain both made their exit, promising to come back with dinner later so Flora could rest. By the time he was settled again, Flora was also nearly asleep. 

“He’s going to be a menace,” she whispered after Tamlin put their son in his cradle. 

“He’s our menace.” Tamlin got in the bed with her. “His powers are just fluctuating because he’s a newborn. They’ll taper out in a day or so.” 

She nodded and yawned. She then snuggled up to Tamlin to try and rest, though her mind raced. 

“Will you check on Lucien later?” She whispered. “I’m worried. We all thought…”

“I will, I promise.” He took her hand that laid on his chest and gently squeezed it. “I think he’s fine, but I will ask Lainy to keep an eye on him. Today was a lot for all of us.” 

“It was.” She yawned again. “Thank you.” 

Silence fell between them. She let Tamlin brush his fingers through her hair until she finally fell asleep.

[achaotichuman]

Okay but what are your thoughts on Tamlin purring, not the quiet kind of purring but like the loud and happy purr? I imagine him purring every time Lucien gives forehead kisses or andras ruffling his head XD

Yes yes yes yes! Thats all I can say, jk I will absolutely say more.

Why stop at purring? Lets go full cat mode! Tamlin hissing at Rhysand when he appears in the Spring Court. Tamlin just going full chaotic mode at three in the morning and just knocking stuff over left and right. Tamlin sitting at Lucien's door when its locked and pawing at it, while continuously calling out for Lucien to open up.

I'm just imagining, Andras getting back from border patrol, he's had a long day. He had to trap and kill a few dozen creatures, he's about to give the report to Tamlin's father. All he wants is a bath and his bed.

Then Tamlin comes bounding out, his green eyes alight with energy. He's holding something, Andras already knows the Prince wants to show him something. The other sentries are knocking off for the day, all of them are scattering, heading for their respective quarters. Andras stays rooted in place, watching as the Spring stops before him.

"Guess what!" Tamlin says, practically vibrating with excitement.

"You found a million dollars on the ground and you giving it to me." Andras says deadpan.

"No! Even better! I found-" Tamlin rifles in the satchel slung across his chest, eventually grinning when he seems to find it. Holding it up in front of Andras' eyes, Andras sees some kind of purple flower, specks of gold are emitting from it. He eyes it warily.

"Cool... what is it?"

Tamlin huffs, seemingly annoyed by Andras' lack of floristry knowledge, "This is the bloom from a cactus that only grows in Winter, Andras! And I found it growing in a cave in the side of the mountain near the tunnels! You know what this means! It means flora originally thought to only originate from certain Courts can grow in other places if given the correct conditions and time. We can experiment and maybe we can grow things here we normally get from imports from other Courts! It would make our Court so much more valuable as an ally!"

Andras had to admit even he was impressed by the prince's words. At the same time, he was exhausted. He still smiled, then he lifted a hand and placed it on Tamlin's head. Ruffling his golden hair.

Tamlin closed his eyes, grinning widely. A purring noise came from the back of his throat, a loud kind of happy sound that Andras felt vibrating in his hand.

"Well done, Tam. You did good." Andras said.

Then I'm also imagining.

A loud crash in the middle of the night, or morning? Lucien looks at the clock hanging on the wall opposite to him. Three in the morning, what the hell was that?

There's another loud crash and Lucien lunges out of bed. A snap of his fingers and clothes appeared on his body, he ran from the room and bolted down the stairs.

There was an incessant clanging, Lucien followed the noise until he was in the kitchen.

Throwing the door open, he shouted, "What is going on- Tamlin Kali Fairburn!"

Tamlin was on the floor, a metal pot on his head, several pans and other kitchen supplies scattered around him. He had one pot stuck on his right foot, and a sheepish look when he lifted the pot off his head.

"Morning Lucien." The High lord said, trying to ease the fire lord into not being too angry with him.

"What in the Mother's name are you doing?" Lucien hissed.

Tamlin shrugged, "I was getting water, then I found a pan on the stove so I went to put it away, then more fell out, then one thing led to another..."

Lucien looked at the dozens of cabinets wide open, all items removed from them and on the floor, "How did you even manage this?"

"I... I don't know." Even Tamlin looked shocked at his own destruction.

Lucien put his head in his hands, "Oh good Gods, you know what?! We'll clean it up tomorrow."

The Fox made quick strides for Tamlin and pull the metal pots off his head and feet. Then pulled him to stand, the tired High lord swayed on his feet. Lucien decided enough was enough. He picked Tamlin up, bridal style and walked out of the room. Tamlin just yawned and rested his head on Lucien's shoulder.

"I am quite tired." Tamlin mumbled, already half out of it.

Lucien sighed quietly, "Of course you are."

The Fox pressed a soft kiss to the centre of his High lord's forehead. Tamlin smiled in his sleep, and a deep purring noise escaped his throat. Loud and happy, like a cat asleep in his arms.

Those are the scenes I came up with! Thank you for the ask!

[shadowscrybe]

Rayven's Revenge- Chapter 3

Summary: Rayven is the younger sister of Rhysand in the Night Court. She was banished 64 years ago for the murder of her sister. This is the story of Rayven earning her place in Prythian and finding out what it means to be family. We all know how her story ends...but how did she get there? I don't want to forget the demon princess with bat wings. Do you?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none- canon typical content

A/N: <3 We love a bitch who doesn't take shit from men!

Her fingers drummed on the deep oak table stretched across her and the young heir in the drafty hall of the Spring Court manor house. The grand emptiness of the room swallowed the sound of her impatient nails on the table top. The sticky sweet aroma of perpetual bloom invaded her nose like the overly scented bouquets of funerals. Even inside, the scent was going to make her sick.

A Summer Court fae had led Rayven to the room she currently sat in. She had offered the beautiful female a smile and name upon entering, but she was quick to shake her head and lead her to the room they had been waiting in. The highlord of Spring was nowhere to be found. 

Rayven had never actually been to the spring court before, but Tarin’s grand manor couldn't be mistaken. Significantly larger than its surrounding ramshackle homes of the spring court’s lesser fae. Many fae found refuge here after the war, but suffered loss so great they had been stranded here. They had no homes to go back to.

 The heir across from her was blonde, fair-skinned, with the young- boyish look that suggested he’d not yet lived a full human life like the boys had. He lounged in the seat to the right of the head of the table which had remained empty. The lords of the seasonal courts had not seemed to hold punctuality to a high regard. At least, not the same as their flora. 

She sent Rahne out to scope the massive hall as she readjusted in her seat, not at all accommodating for winged guests. She still hadn't learned to hide them on command as Rhys could. He had tried to teach her to use Rahne to pocket them, but her shadow could never sit still long enough for the task. 

The sun behind the young heir’s shoulders was a blinding reminder of his father’s poor time management. They agreed to meet before midday, and the sun was soon to crest into its afternoon descent. She needed to secure this deal and be back before dinner or the boys would start looking for her. 

In Tarin’s correspondence with the Night Court emissary, they had not understated the gravity of this meeting. He was under the impression that this meeting would be with Rhys. She’d make it up to him later. It wasn’t her fault the males here refused to verify whether they corresponded with females or not. 

But Rhys wouldn't have sat there as long as she had. Tarin would have shown up a minute late with Rhys’ commands delivered on the mouth of his pretty heir. But Rayven wasn't supposed to be here, so she waited. Her time was running short, though. 

“Do you have a more pressing engagement?” the heir asked. The first thing said since her arrival. She only knew she had been sitting with Tamlin based on Eris’ description. His eyes kept scanning the long dining room, as if tracking movements along the walls. Rayven let out a bored sigh to call him away from her inspecting shadow. Green eyes slid to her checking my nails. 

“I wish to secure the details and swiftly report back to the Highlord.” She feigned blind loyalty to the Highlord. “Tamlin, I presume? We haven't been formally introduced. I’m Rayven.”

The Highlord would never allow the news of Rava to escape the Night Court, so her reputation was a disguise. Officially, the Night Court only deployed the princess when absolutely necessary. Shadow fire was rare and feared even more. The Highlord only sends the demon when you’ve pissed him off, or he wants his word to be law. 

Really, he sent her when the boys were otherwise busy and what she needed to do was fairly simple. None of the lords she’d met with were aware of being slighted by the Highlord. And if any became wise to the disrespect, none of them voiced it. The Night Court was notoriously cruel among the gossip of the other courts and the Highlord would have it remain so. If I were to only be used as a last resort then my lack of presence was easily excused. 

Except today. Tamlin didn't flinch when she said her name. Rahne didn't send any warnings of apprehension. Either he had incredible mental shields, or he had no idea who she was. 

He glanced towards the doors. “Well, Rayven,” he chewed her name out. “We were set to meet at the end of the week. Suddenly we get a request to move up the meeting, and now without the Night Court’s heir. Then you show up bright and early, well on time, when everyone knows no one actually meets at first light.” 

“The Highlord has ordered the cooperation of our courts. This deal is paramount to the security of the human lands.” She forced my mouth into a smile like Rhys would. “You’ll forgive me for any anxieties as we navigate this delicate potential alliance.” 

His eyes rolled as she finished her sentence. “You're not supposed to be here,” he translated. 

She waited for his eyes to meet hers after his hundredth glance at the doors, like he was seeing through them. “And you have somewhere else to be.” 

She recalled Rahne back to report. Shifter, she warned in whispers over and over. 

His mouth pulled to the side in what was an almost smile. “Careful. I’d like to part with a Night Court emissary safely returned and the dinner table intact.”  His green eyes flashed bright.

He started as if to threaten this emissary again when he suddenly stiffened upright in his seat. His elbows snapped off the table and his chin tilted parallel. It almost looked like Rhys in the Highlord’s office. The double doors of the hall opened unceremoniously as the highlord of the spring court strode to his carved head seat. 

“Well?” the thick man questioned as if she had been the one wasting his time.

Her power swelled in the pit of her stomach. She needed to be wise to get what she wanted, but her fuse was shorter than her patience. She had never seen the spring court’s highlord, but I suspected him to look like his pretty heir. The blonde hair is where the resemblance stopped. The eyes were green, but they lacked the light Tamlin had. 

Rahne started to pull tighter around her ankle, her warning sign of impending conflict. 

She attempted a smile at the reeking alpha male staring down at her. “Thank you for being so accommodating with the abrupt change of plans.” She attempted to rise to meet him. 

“Where is the boy?” he interrupted. Eyes locked on Tamlin.  

She attempted to move past his disrespect, nothing she hadn't witnessed in Windhaven. 

“You've requested the assistance of the Illyrian forces of the Night Court for supplemental border protection along the human lands. The Highlord acknowledges its position in our lands and the loss of spring court lands from the treaty, so we will help hold the line against humans.”

“A female came all this way to say yes?” he asked his son. 

Her power pricked against the back of her skin. “This female,” she ground her teeth together. “Has a name. And she is done being spoken over. I come to your court to inform you of the specific legions assigned to your lands and iron out any wrinkles in shift details.”

He doesn't ask her name, just waves his hands as if to say ‘go on.’ Tamlin’s eyes shift between her and his highlord, piecing together what Tarin could not. 

“There will be shifts between the Illyrian legions led between Lieutenant Cassian, Lord Devlon, and myself.” 

He laughed, loud and boisterous. Tamlin’s shoulders tensed. 

“The Highlord of the Night Court is sending females for sentry duties,” he said. “And sends a female to deliver the disrespect.” 

Males. Arrogant, ungrateful, entitled fucking-

Rage, Rahne called to her. Her shadowy form was trying to cool her master’s heating skin. 

Tarin wasn't done insulting her, though. “First he mates with a lesser fae, then sends one to do his business. At least the boy would’ve presented better than,” his dull eyes scanned up and down, lingering disgust on his face at her wings. 

“Rayven.” she finished for him. He seemed to understand what lesser fae sat at his table now. The Night Court only sends the princess when you’ve pissed the Highlord off. Tamlin may not know of her, but Tarin’s hatred couldn't be concealed. 

Tamlin met her eyes as her flames swelled, his head shook slightly, but the flames had already broken over skin. 

“So you do know who I am.”

Tarin’s eyes narrowed as she rose from her seat, unfurling her wings to their full span. She could slash his eye with the right flick at this distance. Then he wouldn't have to look at this female ever again. 

“You’re beginning to annoy me, Tarin.” Rayven inspected her nails casually. 

Tamlin’s eyes were glued to the invisible dust on the table’s edge. 

“I came as a courtesy to your people. We may discuss placement and rotations at a later time if you're going to be so irrational, but the Highlord has given his command. You will do well to remember this kindness. He does not like to repeat himself.” Her hands pressed into the table leaving marks in the oak. “And neither do I.” She let the tendrils of flame leak over the table to the roosting male, reaching into his mind to let him feel the temperature rise in the room. 

“You come to my court and threaten me?” He didn't rise from his seat, knowing Tamlin would take any blow meant for him. 

Rayven decided she hated this male. A highlord or not, she wasn't walking out of here without a command shift. “The Highlord remembers the females who died in the war. With this in mind, he has authorized females to take rank among the fae sent for border control. So you will be accepting of any commander sent to your court and you will treat her the same as you do any sentry sent in your aid.” 

The lord of the spring court found it wise not to speak. 

“I do not threaten, Tarin.” She pulled the flames back and extinguished them in a dramatic hiss. “It is your honor any Illyrian would willingly come to this garden to protect your court when, clearly, you cannot, or else you wouldn't be asking every other court to send aid.”  

The lord of the spring court and his heir stared at the demon, Tamlin’s mouth hung slightly agape, while Tarin’s eyes simmered with a fire of his own. 

“Don't piss me off next time I arrive. Or do and maybe I’ll let you speak to the Highlord yourself. As I’m sure he will be nicer to you than I was.” 

Fragile male, Rahne laughed, tucked behind her shoulder. She had to bite her smile back. 

Most fae had the wisdom to look scared in the presence of the demon princess. Tarin boiled with rage, but let her take her leave. Tamlin looked at her once more with devastation.

That's more like it. 

“And next time, don't be late.” She walked out the double doors letting the echo of her boot heels make their way back to Tarin. The urisk female who had led her into the chamber hall was in the foyer. She didn't meet her eyes as passed her, but one side of her mouth was raised.

Rayven walked onto the lawns of the deceitfully happy court and took off into the skies with her hands shaking.

[highmati]

I love fae glamour magic. And also the idea of each High Lord's lands reacting and working with them like how you see in the Folk of the Air series (the flora and animals in each court flourishes alongside its ruler!!!!! works against those in opposition to it!! like if Tamlin came to Night, I knoooowwwww it's extra cold to him when he's passing through!). Which leads me to say that Night Court, particularly Velaris (since the camps and Hewn City are suffering from neglect regardless of Rhys' absence), was truly almost like a wasteland while Rhys was UTM. And once he returned all that magic came back and the land is thriving once again.

[secondsineternity]

WHO I WRITE FOR:

Requests are currently open!

Currently Focused On: Katsuki Bakugo, Din Djarin, Steve Harrington, Anthony Lockwood, Eddie Munson, Matt Murdock (send in a request for any of these characters and it will be completed faster!)

Ace Attorney: Athena Cykes, Simon Blackquill, Nahyuta Sahdmahdi, Franziska von Karma

A Court of Thorns and Roses: Elain Archeron, Feyre Archeron, Nesta Archeron, Amren, Azriel, Cassian, Emerie, Gwyneth, Helion, Morrigan, Rhysand, Tamlin, Tarquin, Eris Vanserra, Lucian Vanserra

Camp Half-Blood: Annabeth Chase, Piper McLean, Percy Jackson, Leo Valdez

Castlevania: Alucard, Charlotte Aulin, Trevor Belmont, Sypha Belnades, Jonathan Morris

Crescent City: Hunt Athalar, Lidia Cervos, Ruhn Danaan, Declan Emmett, Danika Fendyr, Tristan Flynn, Ithan Holstrom, Tharion Ketos, Bryce Quinlan

Death Note: L Lawliet, Mihael “Mello” Keehl

Demon Slayer: Hashibira Inosuke, Kyojuro Rengoku

Doctor Who: The Doctor (8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, Fugitive), The Master (Gomez & Dhawan), Mel Bush, Jo Grant, Grace Holloway, Martha Jones, Yasmin Khan, Dan Lewis, Ace McShane, Donna Noble, Clara Oswald, Amy Pond, Bill Potts, Liz Shaw, Sarah Jane Smith, River Song, Rose Tyler, Rory Williams

Fate, The Winx Saga: Aisha, Beatrix, Flora, Terra Harvey, Musa, Bloom Peters, Riven, Sky, Stella

Haikyuu!!: Keiji Akaashi, Asahi Azumane, Kotaro Bokuto, Chikara Ennoshita, Lev Haiba, Hajime Iwaizume, Tobio Kageyama, Shinsuke Kita, Kendaro Kyotani, Yu Nishinoya, Kiyomi Sakusa, Tendo Satori, Daichi Sawamura, Kiyoko Shimizu, Koshi Sugawara, Rintaro Suna, Ryunosuke Tanaka, Yuji Terushima, Kei Tsukishima, Keishin Ukai, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Hitoka Yachi, Tadashi Yamaguchi

Jujutsu Kaisen: Satoru Gojo, Toge Inunaki, Kento Nanami, Maki Zen’in

Keeper of the Lost Cities: Dex Dizznee, Sophie Foster, Keefe Sencen, Linh Song, Tam Song, Biana Vacker, Fitz Vacker

The Legend of Zelda: Link, Zelda

Lockwood & Co.: Lucy Carlyle, George Cubbins/George Karim, Anthony Lockwood

Marvel Cinematic Universe: Ajak, Liz Allan, Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes, Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop, Peggy Carter, Sharon Carter, Katy Chen, Carol Danvers, Layla El-Faouly, Jane Foster, Gamora, Agatha Harkness, Jessica Jones, Scott Lang, Darcy Lewis, Maya Lopez, Mantis, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Karli Morgenthau, Matt Murdock, Namor, Nebula, Hela Odinsdottir, Sylvie Odinsdottir, Loki Odinson, Thor Odinson, Peter Parker (Any), Pepper Potts, Peter Quill, Monica Rambeau, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Sersi, Marc Spector/Steven Grant, Gwen Stacy, Tony Stark, Ava Starr, Stephen Strange, Thena, Joaquin Torres, T’Challa Udaku, Shuri Udaku, Valkyrie, Hope Van Dyne, Vision, Jennifer Walters, Michelle “MJ” Jones Watson, Sam Wilson, Shang-Chi Xu, Xialing Xu

My Hero Academia: Shota Aizawa, Tamaki Amajiki, Mina Ashido, Tsuyu Asui, Katsuki Bakugo, Jin Bubagawara, Nejire Hado, Tenya Iida, Kyoka Jirou, Denki Kaminari, Eijiro Kirishima, Atsuhiro Sako, Hanta Sero, Tomura Shigaraki, Hitoshi Shinso, Mezo Shoji, Keigo Takami, Shoto Todoroki, Toya Todoroki, Himiko Toga, Mirio Togata, Fumikage Tokoyami, Ochako Uraraka, Toshinori Yagi, Momo Yaoyorozu, Hizashi Yamada

Pirates of the Caribbean: Jack Sparrow, Elizabeth Swann, Will Turner

Shatter Me: Kenji Kishimoto, Aaron Warner

Spy X Family: Agent Twilight (“Loid Forger”), Yor Briar

Star Wars: Cassian Andor, Poe Dameron, Din Djarin, Cara Dune, Armitage Hux, Bo-Katan Kryze, Fennec Shand

Stranger Things: Robin Buckley, Jonathan Byers, Joyce Byers, Chrissy Cunningham, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Donatello, Casey Jones, Leonardo, Michelangelo, April O’Neal, Raphael

Throne of Glass: Aedion Ashryver, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Gavriel Ashryver, Manon Blackbeak-Crochan, Lysandra Ennar, Nesryn Faliq, Dorian Havilliard, Elide Lochan, Fenrys Moonbeam, Lorcan Salvaterre, Yrene Towers, Chaol Westfall, Rowan Whitethorn

Twisted Wonderland: Leona Kingscholar, Jamil Viper

The Umbrella Academy: Number One / Luther Hargreeves, Number Two / Diego Hargreeves, Number Three / Allison Hargreeves, Number Four / Klaus Hargreeves, Number Five, Number Six / Ben Hargreeves, Number Seven / Viktor Hargreeves, Number Five / Sloane Hargreeves

Vampire Academy: Adrian Ivashkov, Dimitri Belikov, Lissa Dragomir, Rose Hathaway, Sydney Sage

Wednesday: Wednesday Addams, Tyler Galpin, Enid Sinclair, Xavier Thorpe, Larissa Weems

Wizarding World: Lorenzo Berkshire, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, Ominis Gaunt, Hermione Granger, Queenie Goldstein, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Remus Lupin, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, James Potter, Mattheo Riddle, Sebastian Sallow, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley

a character in italics is a favorite to write for. taking a break from strikethroughed fandoms. list is subject to change.

[suckerpunchfemale]

Chapter Eighteen Below!!

Also available on AO3 HERE

"Are you sure about this?" Tamlin's gaze darted between Cin's face and just over her shoulder, "You said we'd take baby steps, Cin. This feels like a leap."

She rolled her eyes, "Trust me. Buy food, enough for a small army, from various sellers or traders, and then later we will take it to the water wraiths."

The flowers had sung about the dire state of the Water Wraiths all morning, all week. They were as bad off as Calla, as the rest of Spring. Cin sighed, realising Tamlin still had doubts about her plan, "Look, the wraiths have started to steal food again. That means that they're cutting into food that could have fed families or traded for things that they need."

"I didn't realise that they were still low on food." Tamlin swallowed hard as he scratched the side of his neck. All of this was a delaying tactic. He was anxious about going into Calla, as himself.

"Well," Cin pretended to brush the dust from his shoulder, "Today's the day you found out why."

Tamlin looked unconvinced but the time for arguing and deliberating and second-guessing was over. He picked up the bag he'd lowered to the sandy ground at their feet and swung it over his shoulder.

He stood a little taller, took a deep and somewhat steadying breath then walked towards the gates of Iron Fencing around Calla.

Surfinia was the dreamiest village to visit, but Calla had always held Cin's heart. The village was built along the slopes of two hills, leaving the space between the rolling hills for a saltwater river. The riverbed had housed hundreds of different types of medicinal plants, which had always played in Calla's favour.

The cobblestone path that began in the canopy of trees just outside of the iron gates weaved in and around Calla, like a river of stone. Everything inside the gates was wrought iron and stone and marble and chiseled granite. A lot of the buildings were among the oldest in Prythian which mostly meant nothing could be changed, not by the fae who were still there.

Calla was also the only village in Spring that didn't have any flora growing wildly inside their gates. The streets were not decorated with flowers or vines or trees, but just more stone statues and buildings. The lack of plants trying to get her attention had been the reason for her love of Calla. And had her father not been sick, Cin might have relocated to the stone village. Looking at Tamlin now, Cin had a whole new reason to remain at Clematis.

As they passed through the gates, Cin spied the vegetation fields that climbed the hill and noticed the lack of produce. If Tamlin's goal was to buy food for the wraiths, then Cin would take it upon herself to make sure the villagers had food too.

In a Hightower built a few feet from the gate, a man stood with a bow in his hand and a quiver strapped to his waist. He eyed them suspiciously but made no move to attack, question, or even stop them. No, they wouldn't come across as threats to the very few fae left in the village and that would be enough to warrant their safe passage in. As they drew nearer, Cin realised that the man was a boy. His face held a modicum of fear and she knew he was trying to be brave, despite barely being out of his boyhood.

The boy glanced at Tamlin and his mouth fell open. Even if they hadn't known who he was, Tamlin had sworn not to put a damper on his power. If he was going to show his face, then he might as well go all in.

Looking at the shock on the boy's face, Cin worried that it had been too soon to expose Tamlin to the hostility he would find in Calla. Cin looked around, seeing the deserted streets and knew that this might very well be too much. She gazed up at Tamlin, expecting to see the anxiety on his face tenfold, to see some form of stress and maybe even doubt.

But it's not there.

"Good morning," Tamlin said to the boy. There was a pause in the world, not even the wind feathering through down the street, skittering over the cobblestones nearby can break the pause until the boy, seemingly tripping over himself responded, "Good morning, High Lord."

"It's been a while since I've visited Calla. Could you point us in the direction of the market? We've come to trade." The words flowed from Tamlin's mouth as easy as butter gliding over warm toast. He might have been a broken man, but he knew how to play the role of the High Lord and he knew how to play it well.

"Yeah, of course," The boy dropped to his knees on the Hightower, lowering himself to be closer to them, as Cin used her hand to shield her eyes from the harsh midday sun. The boy explained how far they needed to walk, where to turn once, twice, and then they'd walk into the trade market. "It's not too busy today, my Lord. You should be able to find whatever you're looking for with ease."

"Thank you. What's your name?"

"Asha, my Lord. Son of Enzo Locero." He said. The boy was the Chief Elder's son. Or had been. Cin knew that Enzo Locero was dead and that his wife had died too. They'd fought alongside Bron in the war against Hybern. Bron had come back alone.

Tamlin must have known it too because the moment Asha said his sire's name, Tamlin's face fell. "Thank you, Asha." He gave the boy a sincere nod and took Cin by the arm, leading her deeper into Calla.

The few fae they passed in the streets on the way to the market kept their heads hung low, almost pretending not to know that their High Lord walked the same streets they were.

It pained Cin to see that the once renowned village had become nothing more than a collection of countless stone houses held together with whatever materials could be found after Hybern torched hundreds—thousands—of homes.

The streets were covered in dust, rabble, and debris. Even the cobblestones beneath their feet hobbled every few steps as if the village itself had given up and held on by the tiniest thread.

"I didn't know it was this bad," Tamlin said under his breath.

"How could you have? The Crystal Lake had been your home for years." Cin answered just as quietly. Tamlin had admitted to her that he'd gone to the Lake shortly after Hybern fell more and more frequently until he just stayed there.

They heard the chatter before they laid eyes on the market. The hum of the socialising crowd and the flapping tablecloths. Cin swore she could even hear someone haggling excitedly. The five rows of tables and booths flowed from the large statue of the Beast of Spring in the dead center of the square to the edges of the square that touched the buildings.

"Are you going to be alright here if I dip out for a hot minute?" Cin stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Wait, why? What happened to doing this with me?" Tamlin wasn't panicked, he was just...not prepared to face them alone.

Cin gave him a forced smile, "That was until I saw what their vegetation field looks like."

Tamlin's gaze flickered over her shoulder, to the barren field of the hills. "I could go with you."

"No," Cin shook her head. "You've already been seen. If you leave now, it'll look like you're frightened of your own people." She gestured towards the market where the patrons closest to them, had started whispering to one another, giving pointed stares at Tamlin. They'd seen him. Leaving now could do more damage. "I'll just be a few minutes. You got this. I believe in you." She hyped him up and then gently pushed him towards the market.

Cin waited and watched as he lifted his head, then strode down the lane. Chuckling to herself, Cin turned and headed towards the hills.

[reiignonme-moving]

      —  [ 🍃  @mxrvelouscreations​  ]  ❛  requested this meme.

      send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child.

sophie x tamlin.

NAME:       Viessa of the Spring Court.

GENDER:      Female, she/her pronouns.

GENERAL APPEARANCE:       Beautiful light brown hair that reaches her waist, forest green eyes, definitely her mother’s facial features. Being only half half High Fae, her ears are only slightly pointed.

PERSONALITY:       Lover of the outdoors and books. If you can’t find her, she’s either in the library, the gardens outside the Manor or in the forests. A little shy at first, very kind and rarely given to anger.

SPECIAL TALENTS:      She has a lesser form of the enhanced speed, reflexes and stamina inherited from her father. She can also Winnow and shape-shift into a jaguar-like creature. Much later in life, she develops an ability to manipulate flora.

WHO THEY LIKE BETTER:      Sophie.

WHO THEY TAKE AFTER MORE:       Tamlin.

PERSONAL HEAD CANON:      Given the unlikely chance of Sophie conceiving again since she is human and he High Fae, Tamlin made it clear from Viessa’s birth that she would be his heir and has taken special care to make it known she would be High Lady of the Spring Court if he died.

FACE CLAIM:       Katherine Langford.

[ladyofthe-springcourt]

🥀Chapter Two: Trouble In The Courts⛲

(GIF not mine)

Summary: Tamlin still dealing with the effects of what had happened to his court, finds a woman in his fountain. Though she looks completely human, he has a sneaky suspicion she isn’t. Little does he know, the night court is presented with a similar situation.

Masterlist found here

Trigger warnings:

The morning was a striking contrast to Tamlin’s mood. Sunny but not unbearably hot. The light winds that whipped through the grounds carried the sweet scent of flowers from the unkempt garden outside his home. The perfect kind of day for a walk through them. It was even tempered, befitting what was the best of spring. The highlords mind, however, was more befitting the worst of it. Grey skies, heavy rain, and unbearable cold is what plagued him that morning.

Perhaps that walk would do him good, even if he lacked the want or energy for such a thing. Maybe being in the sun and among the various flora he kept on his grounds would help raise his mood a tad. Not that he deserved it.

Though no matter if he wanted to, Tamlin knew he would have to leave his study eventually. With so few sentries that returned to the spring court, he was back to helping patrol the borders. He didn’t mind, it was the least he could do for his people after all that had happened.

Tamlin adjusted the papers on his desk before rising. It was around that time he would have to begin his own patrols, and he best get ready for it. Whatever paperwork needed to be finished he would work on once he had returned. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do with his time.

He crossed the study and walked out into the hall. The area was mostly empty, save for one fae dusting the decorations hung in the hallway. She had come into his employment a month ago after she came to the manor begging for a job. For what reason he didn’t know.

Her rose-like hair swished a little as she turned to look at him. Her eyes pure black held little emotion as she gave a small dip of her head. The gesture was more out of courtesy than actual respect if he had to guess. She was here for money, nothing more.

Tamlin had already laid out his baldric earlier that morning. Along with the daggers and other weapons he would need to bring with him. So dressing was easy and quick as he pulled it on and placed each thing in its rightful place.

The highlord wandered back out into the hallway, past what had been Feyre��s room and down the staircase. He pushed open the doors of the manor and went into the yard. Tamlin stood a moment, head tilted back as he soaked in the sun, before moving on sparing only a glance at the fountain. Like the rest of the garden, it was not well taken care of. Covered with vines and leaves floated in it’s dirty water. He turned to walk to the front gate of his estate, then paused.

His head snapped back to the fountain, its water rippling, but not in the way it would if a leaf had fallen into it. No, it looked as if someone had tossed a stone into its waters. Cautiously, with a hand on his dagger, he ventured closer, looking into it as best he could while remaining a good few steps away.

There was a shadow below its surface, morphing and turning. A hand popped out flailing until it could grip the side of the fountain. Before Tamlin could react, a woman rose from the waters gasping sharply as she did.

He jumped back in surprise as he watched her roll out of the fountain and onto dry ground. The vines that had seemingly tried to hold her back, gave way and fell around her. She knelt in front of him, dark brown hair and green foliage cascaded around her as she continued to hack and gasp.

Once she caught her breath, she looked up at him. She was human, or at least looked that way with human-like features and rounded ears. However, something about her was just… off. Tamlin couldn’t quite place it.

The relief in her hazel eyes turned to shock as her eyes went wide. She remained silent for a long while, blinking up at him, her freckle covered face seemingly stuck in that look of shock and fear.

Just when he was about to speak, she did. “Are you an angel? Am I dead?”

“No.” Tamlin answered her simply. She thought he was an angel?

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

There was no other word Ellie could find to classify the being in front of her. He wasn’t human, human’s didn’t glow like he was. 

Around his head was a ring of light, it reminded her much of paintings of angels she had seen in her art class. The ones where the artist’s painted a circle of gold around their head to signify a halo. If he was an angel, she was glad he didn’t look like a biblically accurate one. She would have just thrown herself back into the fountain if that were the case. Swim away from the light this time instead of toward. 

Oh lord above, why did she swim to the light?

Though, looking at the garden around her, if this was heaven she certainly didn’t mind. It was so pretty despite the overgrown weeds on the ground and untrimmed hedges and grass. She had to be dead, that was the only plausible explanation, but then, she began to remember the mushrooms. The ones that had been near the base of the fountain.

She knew about fairy circles, but by golly she never thought she’d actually come across let alone walk into one willingly. Maybe she was just dead. Perhaps that was a better option then stuck in some Fae land if any of the myths she had read about them were true. 

Especially the one about being spat back out into the real world in five hundred years. Or was it longer? She couldn’t quite remember the specifics. 

“What. . .what are you?” The being before her asked. 

“Human?” She wasn’t sure why she sounded unsure, she was very certain she was human. Though he looked rather skeptical about that fact. “Yeah, I’m human. What are you?”

“I’m a fae.” He looked down at her with his own shocked expression.

“Oh, Okay.” If that was the case, this was bad. “So this is some kind of fae realm?” That in itself did nothing to calm her. It just gave her a better idea of which of her options was most likely. Ellie finally stood from the ground, the cool breeze hitting her soaked through jacket and leggings. Involuntarily she began to shiver, not even wrapping her arms around herself was able to stop it.

“Perhaps it would be better to discuss this somewhere warmer.” He said, gesturing to the manor behind him.

Ellie could agree with that, though she hesitated a moment in following his lead. Was this the best idea? Then again what choice did she really have? If she wasn’t dead, and this was indeed some sort of fairy world, then it would be best to follow him. He hadn’t attempted to kill her yet, and running off into the wilderness behind her likely wasn’t a good idea either. “Please.”

She followed behind the being as he began walking toward the mansion. Now that she had a better look at him, she noticed the ears. They were pointy, elven like, and stuck out a tad from his golden hair. Another check for one of the two places she could be, unless this was just some kind of illusion meant to fulfill her wish if she had received an untimely death.

He led her through the entry and up the staircase of what she assumed his home. Ellie’s head swiveled back and forth as she observed her surroundings. She couldn’t help but think it was rather dull in comparison to the outside. Not because the furniture and wallpaper were more monochrome in color. No, in fact their coloring was just as vibrant as the garden, but because something about the energy was so, lifeless. So sad. There was no one else besides them from what she could see. One would think such a lovely and large home would have been bustling with lots of people.

The being stopped at a door, and pushed it open before he stepped back. “I’ll send someone up with dry clothes for you, I can answer some of your questions once you’re in something less… wet.”

“Thank you,” She said in return, not knowing what else there was that she could say. “I’m Ellie by the way.”

“Tamlin.” He responded before walking off, leaving her alone in the hallway.

Hesitantly, Ellie stepped inside the room, taking it all in. It was something one would expect to see in a disney fairy tale. A large canopy bed to accommodate an even larger room painted in hues of green and pink. There was another door at the far end of the room beside the window. Ellie was curious to where it led, but figured it best to save that mystery for another time. When she was warmer, and more sure of what exactly was going on.

Her eyes traveled to the table in the corner of the room closest to the door. Ellie walked over to it, placing her bag atop the oak wood. She supposed now was as good a time as any to take inventory of the things that might be ruined, and what was still salvageable. Maybe if she were lucky, and was actually dead, none of it would be ruined all thanks to the power of the afterlife. But as she peeled the zipper back, she realized she wasn’t that lucky.

Her extra clothes were just as soaked as her, as well as two of the books she had forgotten to put in the ziplock bag she always carried with her. Thankfully none of them were her comfort book, but unfortunately the one book that might be useful to her, the one on fae and Celtic folklore hadn’t made it out unharmed. Ellie placed them on the table, and dug deeper, pulling out a knotted ball of string.

It belonged to one of those bead animals she had been crafting during their stops as a means to keep herself occupied. When she hadn’t felt like reading that was. Ellie hadn’t placed it in a well enough spot to avoid it getting all tangled last time she took it out.

Sighing, she leaned against the table and began working at undoing the tangles. She tugged at the string in just the way she knew how to get it unknotted. Anything to keep her mind occupied while she waited for whoever Tamlin would send up.

Her mind was racing too fast for her to keep up with. So many things she was uncertain of, and very few ways to actually figure them out. She could feel tears begin to burn her eyes with all the emotions that stacked up in her chest. She blinked them back, and took a deep breath, holding it before letting it out. No matter what mess she had gotten herself in, she just hoped Abilene was in a better situation.

A knock on the door brought her out of her mind, she set the string down and cleared her throat before speaking. “Come in.”

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

“Did I land in Santa’s workshop?” The female on the ground looked frantically between the members of the inner circle. Cassian, who had been the one to pull her from the fountain, had taken a small step back. Though Rhysand could tell by his taught form that he was ready to strike at a moment's notice. His eyes were trained on her, not noticing the water she had spit up on his clothes.

They all remained silent for a good long moment, trying to process what had just happened. Rhysand decided to take advantage of the still moment to get an idea of who this female was while she was still trying to collect herself. His talons formed as he slipped into her mind, though his physical body remained perfectly still. He was met with-

Nothing. Not a single thing.

Not a wall made of vines, or any kind of stone, or thoughts and memories for him to freely sift through like he normally would. There was just a vast expanse of nothing.

Thinking perhaps she had just a wall of smoke, giving him the illusion that she didn’t have anything, he kept searching. Impressive for someone who looked human. Though the more he looked for an opening, a peek through the inky smoke, the more he was beginning to rethink that thought. There was just nothing there.

Interesting, perhaps such a thing could prove to be useful someday.

The highlord stepped closer, coming to stand beside his brother. The thought of torturing the female for anwsers crossed his mind, but she didn’t pose a threat as of now. She had no weapon in her hand, and wasn’t dressed for sneaking around based on the bright unnaturally red hair she was sporting. If any of his enemies had intended to make an assassin of her, they had failed miserably.

“What are you?” Rhysand asked, she most certainly wasn’t like them. She wasn’t a water spirit either, she looked too human for that. Perhaps she was something more akin to Amren, other worldly, she just wasn’t as intimidating.

“What are you? Wait, right me first, um-” She tripped over her words as she pointed a finger to her face, “Human, roughly 5’5, frightened and confused, and I’m from the U.S . Okay now your turn.” Her tone was friendly, albeit shakey. Rhys could practically smell the fear wafting off of her like perfume.

“What do you make of her?” Feyre’s voice asked down through their bond.

“Not much, she doesn’t seem like much of a threat, though it could still be a trap.”

“Even so, I seemed non threatening as well, right before I took the spring court down.” He could hear the pride in her voice.

“Let’s be thankful we are not as arrogant as Tamlin, if she tries something we’ll be ready. In the meantime, she could prove to be useful to us.” It took only a moment to relay Feyre the information he had discovered, or more lack thereof. He could formulate a more solid plan later, for now he would attend to this issue.

The interaction took all of a few seconds, then he stepped closer, offering a hand for the female to grab “I am Rhysand, and this is my inner circle.” She accepted his hand, but mostly used her free one to push herself up. “We would like to welcome you to the night court.”

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

They had put Abilene in a room after they had all introduced themselves. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t have anywhere to go so she didn’t fight them on it. The moment the door was closed behind her, she began surveying the rather large room. It’s color palette was very much night like with whites, blues and even some shades of purple incorporated into it’s bedding and such. The only outstanding color being the dark brown wood for some bits of furniture. The bed was against the far wall, and a vanity with a place for her to put her clothes. Right beside it was a set of windows with strips of wood criss crossing over glass to create little diamond shapes.

She walked over to the window and pushed it open before looking down. She was high from the ground, but not high enough that the fall would kill her if she needed to use this as a quick escape. There looked to be other buildings in the distance, places to hide if she did have to run.

Abilene closed the window and turned her attention back to the rest of the room, assessing it for any other means of escape if for some reason her hosts decided to become less than hospitable. Other than the window and the door she had just come through there weren’t many.

She located a few hiding places though that she’d feasibly be able to squeeze into to hopefully slip past whoever came in to harm her. However, she didn’t know the full layout of the house, she’d likely just get herself lost if she wasn’t careful.

If worse came to worse, the window would be her best bet.

With that done, she turned to her bag and began to pull things out. She took note of the damaged items such as her notebook and hung out her wet clothes to dry on the vanity and it’s chair. The foods she had packed, such as her canned goods and what she had also packed for Ellie were fine.

She grabbed one of the cans of pasta in case she got hungry sometime later that day. The rest she would leave for emergencies only.

Abilene grabbed her can hairspray, and pulled the lighter from its ziplock baggie that she had kept it in. She flicked her finger down on it, waiting till it sparked a flame before she was satisfied. It still worked, and therefore could still be used as a makeshift weapon.

Her hand went to the side of her pants. The phone in her pocket was okay, its waterproof case thankfully protected it from the same water that destroyed her notebooks. She pressed the power button, checking its charge before turning her phone off. She never knew when she might need it if she found a way back to...Earth? The normal world?

Abilene couldn’t quite tell if this was an anime isekai situation where she had been taken to a new world entirely, or if she had been taken to a parallel one. What she did know though was, she was starting to get tired. Really tired. Despite the fact she hadn’t been mere moments ago, it was getting really hard to keep her eyes open.

She shoved the lighter and can of hairspray under her pillow before laying down. She’d just shut her eyes for a moment. Just a moment.

Tag List (comment to be added):

@narclssis @ladysnowmanofnoir​

Note: I’m so sorry this took me so long to post, I thank y’all for your patience. ^^ 

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Prompt for Feysand: Feysand's first night with Nyx after Feyre and Nyx nearly died

So Lucky

AN: Did I just… write… another one? Fuck yeah I did. I guess this is me trying to make it up to you guys because I will be MIA next week (on a short vacation starting Sunday). It won’t affect The Bet next week (probably) but I won’t be doing anything else so enjoy it while you can lol

Fluff//960 words

“Rhys?”

Rhys immediately entered the bedroom upon hearing the soft call. “Yes, darling?” He kept his voice light, but to be entirely honest, Rhys was worried about Feyre. Madja said she would recover, but he couldn’t help but fear for her after the ordeal her body and mind had undergone.

“I’m thirsty,” his mate rasped.

Rhys made a glass of water appear on the nightstand beside Feyre, who was tucked into bed. She must be too tired to do it herself.

Shooting him a grateful glance, Feyre leaned over and took hold of the glass, sipping lightly. Rhys looked down, distracted from his mate when he heard a babble.

Nyx was in his arms. Their son—who they thought wouldn’t live, who they had been convinced would die with Feyre as her body didn’t support the birth and Rhys as the bargain they’d struck took his life as well. They were so lucky.

Rhys gently rocked his arms, smiling at the babe. Nyx had a small tuft of his father’s midnight black hair, as well as his shimmering violet eyes. He seemed to be taking after his mother personality-wise, however; Nyx was already turning out to be a stubborn little brute, crying whenever they moved him or said anything. When Rhys had shared this revelation to Feyre earlier in the day, she had laughed and threatened to drown him in the Sidra.

“Don’t hog him. I want my baby,” Feyre demanded, unable to conceal a smile of her own.

Rhys grinned and carefully stepped around to his side of the bed and situated himself, handing Nyx to Feyre. She took him eagerly, excited to hold him again but always careful of his little Illyrian wings.

The baby was awake, but barely so. His small mouth was curved in a soft crescent smile as he gazed at his mother. Another babble escaped his lips.

Rhys could feel the joy radiating not only from Feyre’s worn, but beautiful, face; but down the bond, matching his own ecstasy and love. He pulled the blankets onto his lap as he sat against a pillow.

Feyre leaned into him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She turned to Rhys and gave his a peck on the lips. “How are you feeling?”

In response, Rhys opened his mental shields, hitting his mate with a wave of pure, undiluted happiness. She sighed in content, opening her own walls to him.

Nyx started to cry, and they both looked down at him.

Feyre rocked him slightly, using the small amount of magic she had energy for to summon a water wolf, this one a tiny, gentle creature that flew in slow circles around the babe. Nyx giggle excitedly, his little fingers twitching.

Feyre glanced back at Rhys with a smirk. “I don’t know what you meant earlier when you said he was just like me. He got jealous and started crying the moment I spoke to someone else—that’s you, through and through.”

Rhys gasped with mock hurt. “How dare you, darling? I can’t believe you would wound me so.”

Feyre laughed, and glanced back at Nyx. Her magic faded—she was exhausted, and even a small bit of water magic took energy. Later, she would heal. For now, she would have to rest.

Nyx started getting upset at the loss of the water wolf, trying to grab for it as it dissipated. Rhys was quick to send a tendril of darkness over him. He reached for it curiously, and Rhys sent it lower, tickling the baby.

Feyre sighed. “How did we get so lucky.”

It wasn’t a question, not really.

They both smiled at the sight of Nyx fluttering his wings in time with the darkness hovering above him. He wouldn’t be able to fly for a while, but someday, Rhys and Feyre would love to share the skies with him.

“It’s late,” Rhys said. He didn’t want to put Nyx to bed just yet, but the baby’s mother needed her rest.

Knowing exactly why he pointed that out, Feyre sent a sideways glare and replied, “I’m fine.”

“You get grouchy when you’re tired.”

Feyre scowled, but the angry expression instantly disappeared when she glanced back at Nyx. “I suppose he needs to sleep as well. I’m not the only one who’s had a long day.”

Rhys sighed in agreement, taking Nyx from Feyre’s arms. He would need to be the one to take him to his crib, as Feyre couldn’t even walk the short distance to the other side of the room. They were both far too paranoid to let him out of their sights.

Rhys tried to move over on his way off the bed, but Nyx started crying. Again.

He tried cooing to the baby, but Nyx only cried harder. He did not, it seemed, want to leave his parents just yet.

“Just another minute,” Feyre suggested.

Rhys wasn’t hard to convince. He moved back to his earlier position and almost immediately, Nyx quieted.

“So delicate, so needy. Just like his father,” Feyre murmured.

Rhys frowned at her and she grinned. “Don’t you think?”

Rhys just laughed. He watched as Feyre cooed at the baby, tickling his sides, and said, “You’ve gone soft, Archeron.”

She grinned. “So have you, dammit sjm give us his family name.”

They both laughed, though not too loudly. They didn’t want to disturb Nyx.

Feyre planned to get back in shape soon, Rhys knew. And he would help her. Being able to take care of herself was extremely important to her, after what Tamlin had put her through. It was something she’d only been willing to give up temporarily for a baby. A family.

Rhys cuddled with his mate and his son, feeling happy. So, incredibly happy.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@infernoqueen19

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thebonecarver

[nocasdatsgay]

Spring Time Affairs

Day three of @polyacotarweek : Secrets

Summary: Flora likes to rile her husband up, especially if it means she gets to play with Elain in the process.

MasterPost | Poly Week Master Post| AO3 Link

Pairings: Tamlin/OC/Elain/Lucien | Rating: E🌶️| Word Count: 1890

Warnings: smut

A/N: relationships should never have to be a secret. Pretending it is for the thrill however, that is acceptable.

Tagging: @saltedcoffeescotch @ysmtttty

Flora should have been ashamed of herself. Should bring the operative word. But the way Elain’s thigh was shaking where it was draped over her shoulder, she could only focus on bringing her over the edge. How she ended up kneeling under Elain’s pale yellow skirts in the small library on the east end was irrelevant.

Elain was whimpering above her as she sucked and swirled her tongue on her clit just like she liked. Stubborn, she thought. Elain was deliberately fighting her orgasm. Flora knew it. She stopped thrusting her fingers and instead wiggled the pads of them, pressing on that spot that had Elain crying out above her. She grinned as Elain came, damn near soaking her face and hand. Flora licked it all up, pleased when Elain started to push her away because it was too much.

“I swear you stay under her skirts more than I do.”

Lucien’s voice startled her as she pulled away and moved to stand. He was grinning wickedly at his mate, who Flora was pleased to see had a flush on her face and was still catching her breath.

“I can’t help it,” Flora made a show of licking one of her fingers. “She tastes so good.”

“You’re lucky Tamlin is looking for you,” Lucien said. He did look ready to bend her over the table behind her. His gaze turned to his mate. “You are a wicked little female.”

“Whatever do you mean, Lord Lucien?” Elain straightened her skirt with her palms.

Flora’s eyebrows shot up. Elain always flirted by riling Lucien up. And the best way to do so was to address him formally. Flora learned that herself the hard way.

“Flora, lock the door,” Lucien did not look at her as he spoke. “I think I need to have a conversation with my mate about inappropriate uses of the mating bond.”

Flora did not suppress her grin. “Of course. Have fun.”

She left, shutting the door and waving her hand to lock it. She tried to not giggle at the squeal she heard Elain let out as she went down the hallway. She went to her husband’s office first. He was normally there most of the day nearing the end of the year months. Sure enough, Tamlin was at his desk, looking over papers. He looked up as she entered and shut the door.

“Lucien said you were looking for me?”

She walked past the chairs and his desk to sit on the table against the window behind him. It was a test; he knew that. She could tell he knew by the way he rose from his chair and turned to her with a predatory look. She smoothed out the skirts of her sky blue dress. He came up to her, nudging her legs open with his own, his nostrils flaring as he leaned into her.

“You smell like Elain. Gods, were you in the library again?”

“Maybe.” She grinned and watched him plant both of his hands on the table, caging her in.

“Wild flower.” Tamlin growled in her ear. “Are you trying to get caught?”

“Why would I do that?”

Tamlin took one hand and pushed up her skirts further so he could stand between her open legs, forcing them to spread further. He pulled back and stood straighter.

“Because you’re a minx,” he tilted up her chin. Green eyes blown black. “I don’t even remember why I called you in here.”

Flora hummed as he tucked a loose golden brown curl behind her ear.

“What a Lady of Spring you are, smelling like another male’s mate. What would the servants think?”

So that was the game they were playing. The ‘pretend the whole court doesn’t know’ game. Flora liked this game, if only because Tamlin could pretend to be possessive.

“Fuck the servants,” she gasped.

He gripped her hips and pulled her to the edge of the table and pressed his body against her. The bulge of his pants rubbing against her. Her underwear was already soaked from playing with Elain. She whined and pouted when he pulled back. A hand on her thigh inched up under her skirt until a claw hooked her underwear. She lifted her rear up so he could pull them off. He scowled as the blue lacy scrap of cloth came into view.

“Who bought you these? It wasn’t me.” He lifted them higher to look at them better. “They’re too slutty for my tastes.” A lie.

She bit her lip. He knew who, but he wanted her to say it. “Lucien.”

His gaze narrowed on her as he tossed the underwear aside. “You want them to know what a little whore you are.”

“No,” she shook her head.

“You do.” He tsked at you. “This is the third time this month I’ve caught you smelling like them. Do you want the court to think I can’t satisfy my wife?”

She almost snorted. Instead, she feigned shock. “No!” 

“But you do. They don’t know our little secret, do they? They just see you, walking around and smelling like this. Makes you look unfaithful. Do I need to remind you who you belong to?”

She tried to not grin or seem too excited as he unlaced his trousers. He reached up and grabbed her chin forcing her to look at him.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes sir.”

He let go of her chin and his trousers fell to the floor. She looked down and watched him stroke his hard length, the core of her clenching at the thought of what was about to happen. She inhaled as he stepped close to her, wanting nothing more than for him to take her.

“What did you do with Elain?”

Flora looked up, mouth agape. “I- I was under her skirts. I used my mouth.”

Tamlin reached around and grabbed the back of her head, not undoing her braids but holding her still as he pressed his lips to hers. She let his tongue in and he growled while he probed around. He could taste Elain still on her lips and tongue. Flora did not move. He pulled back. He said nothing; only stroked himself once more before pushing into her heat.

Flora fell back on both her hands, head also falling back as she let out a moan. He gave her no time to adjust, not that she minded. She was content to let him take what he wanted from her. Tamlin had other plans.

“Look at me,” a command, laced with the authority of Spring. She lifted her head up, eyes wide open. “Who do you belong to?”

”You.” She whimpered with each thrust, his length hitting that spot inside her. “You, Tamlin.”

He growled again. “And what are our rules?”

”We, fuck, we keep- Tam,” She wrapped her leg around his waist. “We keep it secret.” Another lie. 

“Exactly.” He thrusted into her harder, stroking the pleasure in her higher. “What we do in our bedroom is no one’s concern but our own.”

“Yes, Tamlin.”

“If you’re going to smell like sex during the day, you’ll smell of me.”

“Yes sir,” she cried out. “Only you.”

Tamlin sank his teeth into her neck, causing her to arch against him and yell with her eyes rolling back. He then pulled back and licked at the bite. Her legs tightened around his waist again while he continued to thrust into her, one of her hands going into his blond hair.

Then the doorknob turned and for a moment her heart stopped. She moved her hand and slapped it over her mouth, crying out as she came suddenly.

“Am I interrupting?”

It was Lucien, the bastard. He had the audacity to look innocent as he slipped into the room and shut the door. She was still pulsing around Tamlin, who stopped to look at him.

“What?” He asked, breathing heavily. As if his trousers weren’t around his ankles with his cock buried in his wife.

“The emissary from Summer is here.” Tamlin growled and Lucien grinned. “I just wanted to inform you, High Lord.”

“Get the fuck out and don’t think I won’t punish you for bothering me.”

“Maybe you should punish your wife, since she came the second she thought she was caught.” His eyes flashed at her as he grinned. “I know what you sound like when you cum, Flora.”

“Get out Lucien.” She rolled her eyes. “Weren’t you just with Elain?”

Lucien clasped his hands behind his back. “Elain is a bit tied up at the moment. I can have you join her if Tam wants.”

“Get. Out.”

Command laced Tamlin’s snarling tone. Lucien didn’t drop his grin but exited as requested. Tam threw out magic, locking the door. He turned back to her with a look in his eye. In quick movements, he pulled out of her, pulled her off the table, stood her on her feet and pushed her down across the table. Her skirts were thrown up onto her back and she gasped when he smacked his hand hard against her rear.

“Naughty girl.” He kicked her feet apart and smacked her across her wet cunt. “I didn’t tell you to cum.”

“I’m sorry Tam.” She stood on her toes, hoping he’d do that again. When he did, she moaned loudly, clenching around nothing. “Are you going to punish me?”

“I should.”

She heard him shuffle and felt him push his length back into her. He pulled her upright to be flush against him so he could whisper in her ear.

“You and Lucien both have been so bratty. But I have a meeting. So I’m going to finish fucking you and when I’m done, you’re going put those slutty little panties back on and let my seed drip out your cunt for the rest of the day so everyone knows who the Lady of Spring belongs to.”

“Please.”

He chuckled in her ear, pulling his hips back to thrust up into her. A clawed hand came around her throat while his arm wrapped around her waist as he continued. It didn’t take long for him to finish, growling in her ear as he did so. When he pulled out, she squeezed her legs together and waited. She straightened out her skirts and waited while he pulled up and fixed his trousers.

“Look at my good girl,” he chuckled, coming up beside her to hand her the panties he’d pulled off.

Flora didn’t say anything as she carefully stepped into them and pulled them up. She shivered as she felt his cum slip out of her slowly after she unclenched her legs. She turned to him, batting her eyes innocently at her husband.

“May I be dismissed, High Lord?”

“By the cauldron you make it difficult.” He came up to her, grabbing her by the hair to press his lips to hers before pulling away. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she pressed a quick kiss to his lips one last time. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

She waited by the door until he threw out his magic, unlocking it. She slipped out as if nothing happened and headed straight for Lucien and Elain’s bedroom. Lucien dropped that information for a reason when he barged in and she was about to make use of it.

[gwynrielsupremacist]

A COURT OF LIGHT AND SHADOWS

Chapter 2: Reason

Read it at AO3

Masterlist

If it were up to Azriel, right now he would rather be juggling burning knives.

Blindfolded.

And in a dark room.

They were in the huge alcove of the High Lord of the Night Court, as Rhysand removed shirts and jackets from his dressing room that he claimed were appropriate for Cassian's attire at his ceremony.

Although Azriel, sitting in one of the chairs that were nearby, watching the scene with his chin on his hands, he was rethinking why he thought this would be a good idea.

After the 'incident' with Elain and Rhys, he had made up his mind that he would never think of Elain that way again.

Of course, that was rather difficult when she was always where the Spymaster passed.

Was he going to the kitchen? Elain would be there with Nuala and Cerridwen.

Was he going to the living room? Elain would be there with Feyre and Nyx.

Possibly one day he would find her in his bed, wearing lingerie, as a gift just for hia enjoyment, tearing off the tiny pieces of undergarments and-

"Azriel?" The sound of his name brought him out of his trance. "Have you been paying attention to something I've said in the last 20 minutes?" 

He knew that his shadows, moving slowly over his neck, covered any variation of his arousal but, just in case, he watched Rhysand's reaction, knowing if he knew the reason for his daydreaming, he would be enraged.

However, Rhys's face revealed absolutely nothing, only joy for his brother and bewilderment on the part of the Shadowsinger.

Usually Azriel was the one who had to warn his brothers to pay attention to him, not the other way around.

He shook his head to Cassian's question, to which he sighed, visibly tired and irritated: "I was wondering if navy would look better than black, but I have no idea what Nesta would like." He muttered. Apparently having a mating ceremony wasn't all the color of roses. "I'll stick with the black one, I  don't think the suit will last long after we go to that cabin." He announced as he and Rhys gave each other knowing glances, grinning mischievously.

That was another arrow to his badly wounded heart.

He was happy for his brothers, of course he was.  There was no other male who deserved a mate as much as Rhys and Cassian, but ...

What about him?

Azriel stopped intervening in the conversation at that moment. He usually did not want to participate in those conversations, but it seemed that that day he was the worst of all.

"The worst day will be the mating ceremony, Shadowsinger. You must prepare for that day if you do not want to fall from grace" Recommended their shadows.

It was true. There would be no worse day than the ceremony.

With Rhys's ceremony it had been the same. As soon as the ceremony was over, he had to go to a Sex club to get rid of the arousal and despair that he felt throughout his body.

It was not fair. Was the Cauldron so macabre?

Had he done so much harm to the world that they deprived him of the experience of having a mate?

He swallowed silently, keeping his face mask neutral, no emotion leaving his face.

He thanked whoever had given him that ability, it was fucking useful at times like these.

Three hours later, Cassian ended up deciding what costume to wear, the black one, and the conversation between the commander and the High Lord died as well.

Cassian left, muttering that he had forgotten something in the House of Wind, although it was possibly an excuse.

The atmosphere in the room had quickly become charged, before the challenging stares of those two.

Although Azriel supposed that he should stay away from the House as well, since he did not need his shadows to tell him that it had served him with a double purpose, he was probably going to fuck Nesta until they both could not hold on foot.

Azriel started to get up, but was prevented by a force in his chest from Rhysand.

"Maybe he had found out about my scent change, after all." He guessed, preparing his best poker face for the onslaught the High Lord was going to bring him.

They stared at each other, studying possible reactions, waiting for who was the first to speak.  Things had gotten tense on their part since Solstice.

Azriel knew, as did Rhysand, that no matter how much he wanted to possess Elain's body, he would never betray Rhysand. Punch him, maybe.  But he will never betray his High Lord.

"I notice you are somewhat distracted, Azriel."  The High Lord commented, sitting down on a chair and intertwining his fingers, dropping them into his lap. "I hope there were no overnight escapades on either side." Rhysand knew perfectly well what he was talking about.

Like Azriel.

"None. I did what you asked." He secured, leaning back, with the advantage that the High Lord didn't know that in reality, his thoughts were a hell of 'wills and cannot'.

Rhysand nodded slightly, rising from his chair, to which Azriel copied the movement.

Azriel knew he shouldn't be fooling around when Rhysand was in that mode, but he couldn't help but feel like a hypocrite.

"You took Feyre away from Tamlin when she still thought she loved him. Elain doesn't love Lucien, yet you separate her from me." Azriel thought. He knew those thoughts didn't make any sense, but right now he was the only thing he could think about.

His shadows were scattered around the room, ready to attack if something happened to his master, while some were on his shoulders, caressing the area in tension.

"I want to keep it that way." Rhysand emphasized, walking ahead of him, silently asking him to follow. He did it. "Things are going bad, Azriel, I don't need any more trouble than is inevitable."

"What problems?" This one answered. "According to my spies, Koschei hasn't shown any signs of life, so I don't see what a problem there could be."

"That Koschei is not showing signs of life does not mean that he is not operating in secret." He suggested, walking into the nursery, with Nyx in the crib, sleeping peacefully.

The High Lord's face changed dramatically.

It was no longer the face of the most powerful High Lord in history. It was the face of a father watching a son, with awe and love in it.

"I can't bear that my son has to spend his early years with that bastard of Koschei in the middle."

"We will protect it." Azriel confirmed, also looking at the small bundle wrapped in sheets. "I will protect him with my own life, if necessary."

Rhysand looked into his eyes, and in a pleading voice, he said:

"Do you understand then? Why I ask you to separate from Elain?" As much as he hated doing that, he nodded. "I cannot allow jealousy and desires to be put through the protection of the court. Things are bad enough to make them worse."

As much as it was hard to keep his gaze neutral, he continued to nod, but anger crept through his mind, clouding his reason.

"And how much trouble would Elain and I have?"

Rhysand was silent for a moment. Azriel guessed

he was steadying himself so as not to punch him in front of his son's bed. Instead of doing so, he asked:

"I don't want you to avoid the question. You are not going to avoid the question." The High Lord manifested. "What the hell happened with Mor, Az?

That theme again.

"Why whenever we talk about Elain, do you end up talking about Mor?" The Spymaster snarled, the shadows preparing to attack, noting the tension in the environment.

"I do it because you have completely forgotten Mor, Azriel. You have been in love with her for over 500 years." He remembered. "I can't believe you traded Mor for Elain in so little time."

"And why do you fucking care?" He growled again, backing away from the room for fear of waking the boy.

"Mor is my cousin, Azriel, and I think I deserve an explanation. Have you given up? And now I suppose Elain will be the consolation prize, right?

It took Azriel more of the self-control he possessed not to slam his fist into the High Lord's nose. If he hadn't been his superior, Rhysand would be bleeding badly right now.

"Elain will never be a consolation prize." He barked, leaving the house and spreading his wings to fly up, but was interrupted by Rhys's hand on his arm, an anchor holding him to the ground.

"Give me a reason."  He started to say. "Tell me one fucking reason why Elain deserves to be your mate, and not Lucien's."

"Are you comparing me to… to that one?" He murmured in a voice icy and deadly, the voice that sent chills to the poor people who had to listen to it. Rhysand didn't even flinch.

"You are both different and equal at the same time." He evaded, then returning to the initial question. "Give me a logical reason, and I will allow Elain to stay with you."

Baring his teeth at him, Azriel leapt, taking flight and away from those feelings, roaring with rage when he realized that he had not a single reason to be worthy of Elain.

TAG LIST: @bookish-isha @imsointobooks @shisingh @feyretale @niaacotar @flora-shadowshine @tealnymph24 @trashforazriel @hlizr50 @meher-sumedha @heyovivi @positivewitch @greywarens-magician @sageofthegalaxy @valkygwyn @verifiefangirl @verifiefangirl-mainblog @snickerdoodlechittybangbang @genya-berdara @katekatpattywack @ddsworldofbooks @secretlovelybeauty @starbornsinger @sv0430

[achaotichuman]

TW: Gore, delirium, and mind-breaking (read for your own discretion)

Forest Monster Tamlin AU (Although he doesn't make an experience all the events in the AU were done by monster Tamlin)

I have like a small story in my head where like a group of autumn court males were sent by Beron to scout out the spring court for weaknesses, mapping strategic points, note any threats or big resistances that would oppose autumn inevitable take over of spring.

And it all went to shit because the moment they entered the more dense forest of the spring court everything started to act strange, the land itself kept changing and shifting, time was almost nonexistent, They felt like they were being watched and followed every single time they kept trying to find their way out of the spring court.

And slowly and slowly they start getting mad, hearing stuff, little giggles a distance away, a small shadow dashing at the court of their vision. Delirious dreams and haunting memories when they sleep somehow came to life.

And then one of them got lost.

They search high and low and they found him by an old willow tree laying there, with mosess covering him. A variety of fungi and mushrooms blooming out of his eyes and ripping through his rib cage. Thick vines root him to the ground while beautiful flowers blossom out of his right eye socket, tearing a hole through his cheek. His stomach was on full display as his intestines were covered in spores and ferns.

Panicking and in distress the group made the decision to move forward, but it seems they simply get deeper into the spring court and slowly the madness, the fear, and the terror slowly gets to them. They started turning on each other, accusing them, ugly secrets come to light.

And after that night by night their number dwindles and dwindles and dwindles, the bodies of their lost comrades found always a few yards away hidden and covered in plants and flora like an infectious disease. A fleshy vessel and banquet for the starving undergrowth to consume and grow upon.

And then it was only the leader, his face horrified and full of pain as he realized his dreams of his men screaming, begging for mercy was him killing them at night. Gnawing at their flesh, ripping them open, only for him to vomit out spores and spores to feast upon the flesh.

The leader couldn't do anything but scream as he ran, and ran, and ran until suddenly he found himself at the autumn court. Maddened, grief-struck, he clawed his face, his neck, his chest until he could feel his veins severing, the pain flaring around his body. And slowly mosses covered his body accompanied by bursting of mushrooms and flowers piercing through his body, thorned fines slithering around his rib cages and digging deep into his lungs, the thick foliage of the plants blocking his throat before it expanded and out of his mouth was a blooming golden rose.

A bright, beautiful golden rose of spring.

A gift of a highlord

This is so sadistically beautiful. For a while I've been fascinated by the idea of Tamlin being able to destroy someone from the inside out using plant growth. You captured this beautifully.

Faeries are known for their sick twisted ways of delivering suffering. I was very disappointed in the acotar series as it did not deliver that. I love the way you think about Tamlin, and your ideas for the Spring Court. The way you wrote Spring as a kind of labyrinth that kept turning and twisting as the Autumn Court males went deeper into it gave me a chill.

I fully believe that the Spring Court should be captured as a far darker place than what it is like in the actual series, and you gave it that. Thank you so much for sharing this with me!

[leiawritesstories]

The Glyndon Gardens

An “As I Am” Outtake

Takes place during Chapter 9 and features two characters whom we did not see during the ball at Glyndon Manor. However, this scene had to be written, and it will eventually become evident why. All I can say without spoiling is that THESE TWO ARE NOT ENDGAME!!!!

Enjoy!

Word count: 517

Warnings: bad flirting, Tamlin

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

Nesta and Elain were swept away almost as soon as they entered the ballroom, leaving Feyre alone to stroll into the crowd of young people searching for dance partners. Within moments, Lord Tamlin Fréijoer had appeared in front of her, sweeping an overly complicated bow before asking her to dance. Somewhat reluctantly, she agreed. It was good manners, after all. 

After two dances, Feyre was beginning to grow irritated with Lord Tamlin’s company. “I should like to get some air,” she informed him, and made to walk outside. 

To her annoyance, he stayed by her side, following her outside. “Lady Glyndon’s grounds are particularly exquisite, Miss Archeron. Might I show you around?”

Deciding to be polite, Feyre accepted. “Of course, milord. Have you been at the manor many times, then?”

“Only when there are events here. The lord and lady are most gracious and their hospitality impeccable. Here, allow me to walk you through the labyrinth.”

“There is a labyrinth?” Now Feyre was excited. “I adore those!”

“Indeed, Miss Archeron, there is a lovely evergreen labyrinth.” He took her arm once more and led her down a neatly kept gravel pathway. “This way.”

A few moments later, they came to the entrance of the maze. Grinning, Feyre took her arm from Lord Tamlin’s and headed in, following the gently curving pathway. She heard his footsteps behind her as he caught up. 

“Goodness, Miss Archeron, you do walk rather fast.”

“I adore exploring mazes,” she explained, smiling. “It is just so fun. I do hope there is a bench in the middle, though, for I should like to sit down a few minutes.”

There was indeed a stone bench in the center of the maze, in a pretty little clearing with a fountain. Feyre seated herself on the bench and looked around. “You were correct, milord, these grounds are delightful.”

“As are you, milady,” he returned, looking at her with some unnamed emotion flickering in his greenish eyes. He offered his hand, and Feyre stood up, taking it.

“We should be going back,” she said.

And then he was kissing her. Feyre pulled back, shocked. “Milord, I--”

“You are exquisite,” he breathed, barely a breath away. “Let me kiss you, Miss Archeron. Nobody shall see.” He pulled her close, pressed his lips against hers again.

Feyre kept her lips closed, refusing to allow Lord Tamlin to deepen the kiss. She was about to haul off and punch him for being so brazen when, to her complete horror, her father came running into the clearing, stopped short at the sight of Tamlin kissing his daughter, yelled an obscenity, and yanked the two of them apart.

“Fréijoer, control yourself!” 

Tamlin pulled himself free from the baron’s grip and stalked away. Feyre watched him go, unsure how to feel. 

“Are you alright, Feyre?” Father asked.

“Yes, Father. I am fine. Shall we return?” Feyre brushed herself off, took her father’s arm, and headed back towards the ball, intent on pretending this encounter had never happened.

For if nobody save her father had seen them, what danger was it to her life?

~

TAGS:

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[sassycassie-s-writing]

Winter Court Wedding

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): A Court of Thorns and Roses Series/Rhysand

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: This has been in my head for a few days and I had to get it out of my head so I could write other stuff XD

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) 2,356 words... yup it ran away from me again. This one pretends Tamlin isn’t a terrible person so we get Rhys instead 😉 @itscheybaby

^^^^^

“Rhysand?” I called through the town house.

“Yes?” His voice was coming from the kitchen.

I went downstairs, holding the box I’d found in our room. “What’s this for?” I asked, indicating the heavy fur-lined black cloak with silver embroidery of the moon and stars up the sides.

“Can’t I give you a gift just because I want to?” His smirk was almost too casual for me to believe him.

“You know I prefer coats in Velaris,” I replied. “So there’s something going on.”

He sighed, wings drooping. “Alright. You caught me,” he muttered. “We’re going to the Winter Court.”

“What for?”

“Kallias and Vivane’s wedding.”

“Didn’t they get married like an hour after he got back from Under the Mountain?”

Rhysand folded his arms, tucking his wings against his back a little tighter. “Yes,” he said carefully, “but they’re hosting a formal reception for their court, as well as for the other High Lords. I’m sure Kallias doesn’t actually want to invite us, or any of the other High Lords for that matter, but Mor and Vivane are really good friends and I don’t think he wants to harm that relationship.”

“So Mor’s coming with us, then?”

“Unfortunately, no. She has to put out a fire in the Court of Nightmares.”

“Literal or figurative?”

“Figurative. Keir is pitching fits again.”

“Ah. Same old, same old, then.”

“Pretty much.”

I decided to change the subject.

“So, the cloak is to keep me warm in the Winter Court climate, I’m assuming.”

“Yes. Hopefully without damaging your dress. Sometimes your coats rumple the skirts. While we’re in Velaris—and anywhere in the Night Court that’s not the Court of Nightmares, really—I don’t mind. But you know what we look like to the other courts. The image we present.”

Wealthy, dangerous, ruthless, powerful Night Court High Fae. Immaculate and pristine. Never even a hair out of place. Always in control of every situation. The High Lord who always got what he wanted, his thunderstorm of a High Lady by his side. Nary a trace of the Illyrian half-breed with self-worth issues and the Autumn Court runaway who’d never belonged anywhere.

“I know,” I said.

Rhys approached me and pulled the cloak out of its small box. “Besides,” he said, slinging it around me, “it does look rather fetching on you.” He bent his head and pressed a kiss to my neck.

“Charmer,” I teased.

He laughed. “I could say the same about you.”

I wrapped my arms around him. “I missed you, while you were… gone.”

Even though he insisted he was fine, I still did my best not to mention Under the Mountain. The secrets he’d been forced to keep, the things he’d been forced to do to keep me and the rest of the Night Court safe. We talked about it when he needed to, and I would always be there for him, but I didn’t need to force the past forty-nine years on him.

Rhys put his arms around my waist under the cloak and buried his nose in my hair. “I missed you too.”

“So when do we leave for the Winter Court?”

He knew I was changing the subject away from what I didn’t want to bring up, but he let me. “Tomorrow. We may stay overnight, we may not.”

“Shame Mor’s not coming with.”

“Agreed. She’d love to see Viviane again.”

“We’ll find some way to reunite them. How about that?”

“I think it sounds delightful. We’ll put them in a sound-proof room so we don’t have to hear them squealing into the late hours of the night.” His sarcasm was not lost on me. I chuckled. We swayed in place for a bit. “Let’s go get prepared for tomorrow, darling,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed.

—

I already miss the Northern mountains, I thought at Rhys, wrapping the beautiful new cloak tighter around me to suppress a shiver. Even they aren’t as cold as this.

He hid his amused smile with a lazy smirk, boredly surveying the Winter Court ice waste around us as the reindeer-pulled sleigh whisked over the snow. I agree, he thought back, but it’s not for very long.

The small tiara I’d chosen to accompany my gown was like I’d wrapped an icicle around my scalp. The metal of it practically frozen to my skin.

The sleigh turned a corner.

“By the Cauldron,” I breathed.

The palace was made of ice. It towered into the sky with sharp jags and icicle towers, hexagonal walls filtering sunlight from behind. White-furred bears patrolled the battlements alongside the soldiers. All of whom sported white hair and pale blue uniforms. Snow was falling, but there was only a scattering of clouds. The High Lord’s magic, then, probably.

It might be a good idea to close your jaw, Rhys advised, no sarcasm present. We have an image to maintain while we’re here.

Right, I thought.

The sleigh driver pulled us up to a half-circle drive of packed snow. At the apex of the half-circle were two massive doors to the palace, wide open to the deep blue gloom of indoors. After slowing to a stop, we gave the driver a curt but polite thank-you and swept out of the sleigh. I caught Rhys flicking a finger before offering me his arm. What magic did you just do? I thought at him.

Tipping the driver. It’s polite but I definitely don’t want to be seen doing it. Would ruin the monster reputation I’ve spent centuries building. An image accompanied his reply—of a cheeky wink. I sent him back nothing but laughter.

An attendant—a young “lesser” faerie female with skin the color, texture, and reflectiveness of powdered snow—guided us inside. It was a lot warmer within the ice-crafted walls than I would have expected. I almost wanted to remove my cloak. The attendant looked absolutely terrified of us. Rhys and I barely acknowledged she was there, both keeping impassive expressions on our faces. I wished I could reassure her that everything was alright—that we were friendly—but I knew why I couldn’t.

She led us up what technically counted as a spiral staircase—despite it being hexagonal and not perfectly circular—to a suite of rooms. “His Lordship hopes you will be comfortable here,” the attendant said.

“Thank you.” A curt dismissal from Rhys. She scampered away.

Once she was gone and the doors closed, both of us relaxed. “I hate acting like that,” I muttered.

“Me too. But every High Lord puts on a face,” Rhys said. “You remember Helion. He seems terribly prickly and temperamental in public but is quite amusing and kind in private.” Rhys sat on a white sofa embroidered with sky blue winter flora and a few snowflakes.

“I do remember Helion. I also remember wishing you’d given me a warning about it. I was ready to punch him for being so rude to you.”

Rhys winked at me. “That wouldn’t have been nearly as fun,” he replied. I rolled my eyes. “Well, love, there’s nothing to do but wait until the reception. We did arrive a little early.”

“Four hours is ‘a little’?” I joked.

All I got was a shrug. “I like making statements,” he replied casually. “I arrive when I wish and I don’t care about their scheduling. Usually I would prefer to show up late to make it seem like I really don’t care about whatever it is they’ve had the courage to invite me to, but sometimes it’s more fun to arrive much earlier than planned and make that everyone else’s problem.”

I laughed. “You do a good job of making your act seamless.”

“Centuries of practice, darling.” He lounged on the sofa but patted the seat next to him. I sat beside him. It was almost warm enough inside to remove my cloak, but not quite. Rhys’ body heat was helping make up the difference. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

I grinned. “Thanks. You’re quite stunning yourself.” Black jacket, immaculately embroidered in silver and gold, deep midnight blue shirt underneath buttoned all the way up to hide his tattoos, black slacks with a single ring of silver thread around the ankles. It had taken me an hour to convince him to wear a blue shirt instead of black. But it really brought out his eyes. Dimmed the blazing, powerful violet just enough to reveal that his irises were actually blue.

“I’m always stunning,” he replied.

I smacked him in the chest with the back of my hand. “Arrogant,” I accused.

He kissed me. “You like it though.”

I rolled my eyes.

—

The ballroom was enormous. Pillars of glimmering ice reflected faelight bobbing around the ceiling. It was lightly snowing inside. Winter Court High Fae and faeries milled around, talking, eating, drinking. A line extended away from the bride and groom. Well-wishers offering their congratulations.

Rhysand wasn’t going to bother waiting in the line. I knew that. We’d approach from behind or from the other side, offer our regards, and then leave.

But not immediately.

The ballroom was warm enough that I passed my cloak to a waiting attendant. My gown was so dark violet it was almost black. A bell-shaped skirt dotted with beads in the shape of stars swished over the ice floor, lightly dusted with snow. The gown’s sleeves barely capped my shoulders, but the long black satin gloves that ended two inches from the bottom of the sleeves helped keep my arms warm. The bandeau tiara had three dark amethysts glinting among the white diamonds.

The finery wasn’t terribly comfortable, but I knew the effect it had on others.

Rhys and I wandered the ballroom, mingling only occasionally—and only if the other party dared approach us first.

Including High Lord Tamlin of the Spring Court and his charming bride-to-be, Feyre Cursebreaker. Both of them looking happy and healthy and more in love than ever.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Rhys,” Tamlin said begrudgingly. His eyes flicked over to me. I didn’t have to be daemati like Rhys to know what he was thinking. The whispers of the other faeries milling about followed me the moment we entered the room, and Tamlin was likely in agreement.

Freak. Unnatural. Witch. Lightning was not meant to be harnessed by magic like that. She doesn’t belong in any court.

I thought about snapping something at Tamlin, but Rhys cut in smoothly, “We could hardly miss an important function such as this, Tamlin.” He inclined his head at the female on Tamlin’s arm. “A pleasure to see you again, Feyre.”

“Wish I could say the same about you,” she replied dryly.

Rhys tsked, but didn’t say anything to her. “Enjoy the party,” he said to both of them instead before pulling me away. I waved at Feyre, letting an apology touch my expression. Her glare softened a moment and she lifted her fingers as though to wave back, but thought better of it.

I turned away. She’d saved Tamlin and freed the other High Lords and their courts from Amarantha. She gave Rhys back to me—and I couldn’t even give her the thanks she deserved. Electricity crackled in my veins. Rhys jolted slightly as I shocked him. No one else would have noticed.

Easy, he thought at me. What’s wrong?

I let him into an antechamber in my shields, to see what I thought and felt without having to explain. Thoughtful silence followed. We’ll find a way to let you thank her. For us both to thank her. She gave me back to you, too.

Thank you, I thought at him.

Of course. I felt a loving caress against my shields. I sent one in return.

Rhys took me through the crowd, occasionally offering greetings to the High Fae and faeries who didn’t cower as we passed. Rhys’s damper on his power had been loosened. Not released completely, but relaxed—allowing tendrils of darkness to drift from him like shafts of steam. It was an intimidation tactic. He did it a lot.

“Kallias. Viviane,” Rhys said as we approached the bride and groom. Both looked resplendent. Viviane in her simple but no doubt expensive gown that glittered like powdered snow under the moonlight. They turned to us. “Morrigan sends her regards and regrets that she couldn’t make it.” Those words were directed at Viviane. She smiled at the both of us. More warmly at me than at Rhys.

“Congratulations to you both,” I said with a genuine smile. “You deserve to be happy with one another.”

Kallias gave me a cold stare. Wondering where my calculating, ruthless High Lady mask was, no doubt. But I did want them to know that I was happy for them. That I was happy they’d found one another after Amarantha.

“Thank you,” Viviane said before Kallias could reply. She reached out and took my hand in both of hers. “And thank you for coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Rhys said smoothly, smirking slightly.

“We left our gift on the table with the others,” I said softly to Viviane.

She gave me a warm grin. “Thank you. Thank you, both.”

I returned the grin and Rhys bade a curt goodbye to Kallias before we retreated back into the crowd.

“Care to dance?” I asked.

“With you? Always.” He smiled at me. For a moment I forgot we were in another court. All I could think of was him. All I could see was those blazing eyes—that lazy smile. His warmth against me.

I didn’t realize I must have been showing that on my face because he leaned down and kissed me. “The rest of tonight is going to be so much fun,” he whispered suggestively, giving me that playful smirk he always had when he knew we were both going to get what we wanted from each other before the night was over.

A shiver that had nothing to do with the Winter Court chill travelled down my spine. Excitement. “Oh, I think it will be,” I replied.

[exquisitley-obsessed]

Fiancés, Firebirds, Foxes and Fawns: 4

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed​

Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn's attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain's father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF

Pairings: Elain x Lucien, Elucien

Warnings: None.

A/N: This is going to be a long, slow burn fic (hopefully)

MY MASTERLIST

THIS FIC’S MASTERLIST

AO3

Chapter Four: A Little Lost, A Little Found

Elain was in Lockhart Manor. Elain was currently sleeping a few doors down the hallway. Elain, his mate, was here. Elain-

“Oh, shut up,” Lucien groaned to his own mind, as he rolled over with more vigour than necessary. But there was little hope of sleep finding him tonight, not when he felt so energised and awake. Not only did Lucien feel the bond, taut and invigorated in-between his ribs, but he could still smell Elain, that Spring morning clear in his mind.

What was she doing here? What had changed?

Had she come for him?

Of course not. Right?

Lucien rolled over again, allowing a small snarl of frustration to rip from his lips. If Lucien knew Elain a little better then maybe he’d actually be able to talk to her and ask her these questions. But he didn’t know her, and he wasn’t her friend.

Maybe she’d come to break the bond. That had to be it. Given his luck his entire life it was outrageous to believe that his mate who he hadn’t spoken to for two years had travelled the country to be under the same roof as him, to work alongside him, to go to meetings by his side as his…colleague?

He just wanted to talk to her. One clear conversation where he wasn’t holding back, when he didn’t care about every word both spoken and unspoken. One conversation where he could be the silver-tongued fox he’d been before any Archeron had entered his life. But around Elain he was a fool. A hopeless, romantic fool.

Oh, how Tamlin would’ve goaded him over this. Lucien, who had taken lovers to his bed as though he was being paid, unable to even conjure more than a sentence in front of a female. Well, old Tamlin would’ve laughed at him – with him. Old Tamlin would’ve laughed, period. Now…Now he was another thing in Lucien’s life that had turned to poison.

It was only last week, after Nyx’s arrival, that Lucien received a letter from Rhysand detailing his new assignment in the Spring Court. He’d been able to delay such work thus far, but by the end of the week he was expected in Spring. Following that, the plan was to manipulate his way into alternating weeks between the Spring and Lockhart Manor.

Would he leave Elain here? Could he convince her to somehow come with him to Spring?

She’d love it there, not just the proper and neat gardens of the Spring Manor (or what was left of their civilisation) but also the rugged fields and forests. Spring Court was violent with life. It was a pandemonium of flora, every single plant one could possibly find in Prythian could be found somewhere in the battlefield of the Spring lands. The overwhelming, erratic terrain was exactly where Lucien saw Elain thriving.

If he took her maybe she’d love it. She’d most likely take clippings or, or maybe not. Maybe she would just stay for a moment, and enjoy existing in such a place, her gentle hands refusing to intervene with the beautiful, wild course of nature. Maybe she’d lie down in the fields, maybe she’d go swimming with him in the pools of starlight. One day, far, far, far into the future.

Maybe she’d smile – a real, genuine smile. Lucien believed he still had yet to experience the privilege of seeing such a phenomenon.

The voice of the bond had quietened in his mind, along with the voice which seemed to come from deeper down, the one that told Lucien exactly how much shit he was in given the size of the schoolboy crush he’d somehow developed. But still, there was little chance of Lucien finding more than a few hours of sleep.

And so, with his body alive and electric, Lucien did what he had been doing for the past two years. Lucien wrote a letter - one that was never, ever, intended to be read.

***

Breakfast was awkward. Surely it wasn’t always this awkward, not with the glint in Jurian’s smile and the steel in Vassa’s glare. Lucien seemed…bemused, he appeared to be glaring at his toast and eggs as though they contained some secret prophecy that he needed to decipher.

She was curious about the particulars of Vassa’s curse, about how she knew when the change was coming. Did it happen always at sunrise? How much time did she have to prepare? Was it the workings of the death lord’s magic, or his deal? She was especially curious given that one of her tasks being down here was to help undo Vassa’s ties to the death lord, not that she was sure the Band of Exiles were aware of that given her sister’s ruined letter.

It was Vassa’s stoic silence that kept Elain from opening her mouth. That and a million other worthless reasons.

It was Vassa’s stoic silence that kept Elain from opening her mouth. That and a million other worthless reasons.

“Is there something you wish to ask me, Ms Archeron?” Vassa eventually spoke into the unbearable silence, perhaps aware of the frequency of Elain’s not so inconspicuous side-glances. Elain fought the blush as glared at her plate.

“Elain, please…” maybe she was being paranoid, but the way everyone here kept stressing her title felt like an awful lot like a reminder of the title she was supposed to have in these lands. The life she was supposed to have, the husband, the house, now it all felt so foreign.

“Really, we should be calling her Lady,” Jurian smiled, his own breakfast consisting of a single orange and a small goblet of black coffee, a delicacy of the Night Court he’d bought in bulk.

“Perhaps…if we were in Prythian,” Vassa said non-committedly.

“Titles do not interchange between borders, even human borders,” Lucien spoke up suddenly, his voice sounded causal and polite, but his figure had gone rigid, and his eyes were burning as they rested on Vassa who seemed to shiver slightly under his gaze. Elain adverted her gaze, an ugly feeling flashing through her like lightening. She’d been avoiding looking at him for most of the meal, desperate to ignore how she’d noticed that he’d changed.

“Lady Elain…” Vassa began, her eyes still locked with Lucien’s and Elain felt a furious blush warm her cheeks. God she was so…angry. Stupid mating bond. “Last night you asked me to discuss with you how you maybe be of some use whilst working with us,” Vassa’s eyes found hers from where she was seated at the head of the table, Jurian and Lucien either side of her, Elain next to Jurian. “Well tonight we’re having dinner and talks at the Nolan’s residence-”

“Which of course you won’t be forced to attend,” Lucien ground out, glaring at the queen who just shrugged and reached for the syrup.

“We’ll be discussing all manner of important things; it would be a brilliant opportunity for Elain to familiarise herself with those who she’ll be working in close quarters with for the foreseeable future.”

“These dinners are of little consequence,” Lucien’s eyes flickered to Elain’s for a moment before his gaze returned to the queen and Elain felt something inside her crack. It was as though he couldn’t look at her for more than a second, that or he couldn’t bear to look away from the queen. “I don’t even bother with attending.” Lucien directed at the queen.

“There’s ample opportunity for Elain to make acquaintances elsewhere,” Jurian said through a yawn, leaning back with a stretch. But Elain didn’t miss how his eyes appeared to rove over his two fiery-haired companions. Mother, how she wished they would stop talking about her rather than with her. If she wanted to be discussed at the table as though she were a child she might as well have stayed in the Night Court.

“I’m grateful for the offer but today I was hoping to have a look over the current contracts and ensure they’re meeting the timeline Feyre had drawn for you. Once I can ensure the work you’ve done thus far meets the standards of my High Lady then I’ll know what to both expect and push for with the human councils.” The words flowed out of Elain in an orderly manner, in the exact way she’d practiced as she fell asleep the night prior.

Unlike the Night Court, it was clear Elain was going to have to fight and demand for her own voice and seat at the table. Here, with the Band of Exiles, no one would coddle her. So, she’d either have to stay in the shadows, or step into the light.

Besides, there wasn’t enough gold in the world that would make Elain step a single foot in the Manor that would’ve been her home, once upon a time.

Vassa opened her mouth to say something before shutting it and turning back to her plate, a firm line carved in between her brows. Jurian was glancing around the table with a shit-eating grin and Lucien, the tension in his body had seemed to ease and after a small moment, he took a large mouthful of food.

“Are there, um, any other gatherings I may be able to attend, later in the week?” Elain tried to shake the nervousness from her voice. She couldn’t let these three see her as someone able to be pushed to the side. She needed this.

“There has been weekly meetings with all the human lords,” Lucien said after swallowing, his eyes meeting hers in a way that drew the breath from her body, “Huckleberry Hall is where we’ve been hosting the crowds-”

“The house by the old creek?” Elain couldn’t stop herself from interrupting, her mother would’ve pinched her thigh under the table for such poor manners. But it was just so alarming, to hear the residencies of her childhood come out of Lucien’s mouth. He’d always felt so far and distant, and yet, he was familiar with the lands she’d grown up in. Though she wouldn’t admit it, it made her wish she knew about him. His upbringing.

“That’s the one,” Lucien’s smile was soft and warm and…genuine. “We’re having a meeting there the day after tomorrow. If you wish, you’re most welcome to attend, it’s where the most current information is, and the meeting will give you’re a formal opportunity to meet with our human colleagues. I was heading there today anyways to meet with their cartographer, if you…well, if you’d like to…accompany me?”

“Yes I, uh, I don’t know the way to Huckleberry from here,” Elain was far to aware of two sets of human eyes boring into her at that moment.

“Yes,” Lucien blinked. Not quite a statement. Not quite a question, either. “Yes…good, yes. We’ll set off at first light then...”

Elain just nodded. Not trusting her voice to speak.

***

They were walking in silence.

As Lucien at promised, at first light he’d met Elain at the Lockhart’s front door, his hands behind his back as he waited at the bottom of the stairs. Elain had taken a moment to assess his clothes before she had to look away. He was wearing a loose brown shirt, dark trousers and brown boots. It was a perfect outfit for the summer morning, with the thick air and dewy sunlight. But it was the sight of his crimson hair, tied in a loose bun at the nape of his neck, a few whisps framing the sharp angles of his face, that had Elain looking away.

Lucien seemed to still as she came into view, quickly saying goodbye to Nuala who turned and made her way back up the stairs, and Elain turned to watch her go, giving Lucien a chance to look her over. Her dress was a plain cream, and was of a simple cut that could pass in both human and fae realms – a cunning choice of clothing he thought. The neckline was perhaps a little daring for the human communities which was hilarious given that all one could see of Elain was her collarbones, but the full skirts were the same of the women he’d seen in these lands.

It was her hair he lingered on. Even when bouncing with curls it came down to her waist. Intricate braids pulled most of it away from her face and Lucien could spot pale flowers in a variety of sizes perched at the crown of her head. Real flowers, nothing like the faux pieces the humans tended to favour. She was…divine. Impossible. Beyond him, in every conceivable way.

“You ready?” He tried smiling at her, but it felt as though it came across more of a grimace.

“Hm mm,” Elain bowed her head, a faint blush colouring her cheeks as her curls bounced. Gods, he was fucked.

Silence had fallen quickly over the duo, besides the odd ‘watch out for that root’ or ‘duck’ as they made their way into the forestry of the mortal lands. The path was clear until a certain junction, and then it became little more than a dirt path, only wide enough for them to walk single file. Lucien had wanted Elain to go first so that he’d be able to keep an eye on her, to keep her safe, until he remembered that she quite literally didn’t know where she was going.

Lucien had thought Elain would’ve been disgruntled by the shrubbery pulling at her fine dress, but Elain meandered through the forest in an expert fashion. She gathered her skirts in her hands and would hop with a doe-like grace over the greenery and roots. In fact, the only time he heard her disgruntled was when she’d accidentally stepped on some plant or flower – forever a lady of the forest.

It was only when Lucien was finding himself relax in their silence that disaster struck. Lucien’s foot snagged on something under a large fern that had grown over the path, and then there was an audible snap of leather. The noise was enough to set Lucien into action, with one arm, he unsheathed his Autumn sword and with the other he turned and pulled Elain into him, all sense and thought evaporating from his mind and being replaced with the single, overwhelming urge to ‘protect, protect, protect’.

But where Lucien had been prepared for an enemy of mortal body, their attack came from above. Lucien saw a glint of something dropping down on them at a furious pace and pulled Elain tighter to his chest, bending slightly at the waist so he covered her entirely, so that not one inch of Elain was visible to the attack from above.

But the attack never came, not quite. When Lucien span, turning to tuck Elain behind him as he faced the enemy, he came face to face with…a cage…of wood. Ashwood.

The cage arched over Lucien and Elain, and the wood was interwoven in a way that was reminiscent of the dog cages Eris had used for his Dobermans. It was hilarious really. Lucien and Elain, two fae, and highly powerful fae at that, caged in like a common pup.

Lucien was just scoffing at the cage when he felt Elain shift behind him. Turning around, Lucien just caught Elain as she reached out for the cage, perhaps in an attempt to shift the weak structure out of her way.

“Elain, don’t-” But it was too late, Elain had ran her hand along the edge of the meshed cage before pulling her arm back with a pained gasp. “Shit!” Lucien was by her side in a flash, one hand on her arm, tucking her away from the cage as though it were an enemy, and he were blocking her from view. His other hand went to her crumpled hand which was now throbbing as a furious burn puckered across the surface.

Looking down, Elan watched as Lucien turned and, without touching the damaged skin, assessed her injured palm.

“Fae trap,” Lucien growled, “many councils are encouraging their use now that the wall’s gone.”

“How horrible…” Elain whispered before surprise rattled through her. Three years ago she would’ve thought these traps necessary protection against the evil fae. But now, they just seemed cruel.

“Horrible for us and other civilised fae, but there are other creatures, particularly the southern woods of Spring, who one might argue deserve every bit of this treatment.” Lucien turned back to glaring at the cage, and if looks could burn Elain didn’t doubt that the wood – perhaps the whole forest – would be furiously ablaze.

“I…I don’t know if I’d call you civilised…” Elain finally murmured, allowing herself to momentarily give into the urge to soothe him, to let him know that she was okay. Lucien’s head whipped back around to her and, after a moment of assessing her soft expression, a coy smile that showed his perfect teeth pulled at his lips. Not a laugh, but a genuine smile.

“Was that a joke, Lady?”

“An attempt,” Elain couldn’t help but shyly duck away from his warm eyes and dimpled smile. “You know,” she changed the topic, “I can’t image these kinds of things would work.” She nodded up to the cage.

“When there’s Ashwood involved, anything’s possible.”

“I’ve seen fae on a battlefield,” she shuddered involuntarily, “Something like this,” she went to touch the cage before remembering and flinching her hand back, “seems hardly daunting.”

“Ashwood doesn’t work like an Illyrian, they’re all cock and walk, Ashwood is cunning and clever,” Lucien was glaring at the cage, his metal eye clicking and whirring as it roved over the trap.

“How can wood be cunning?”

“It’s a weapon, all weapons have personality.”

“Does your sword have personality?” Elain murmured, nodding at the silver blade she’d never seen him without.

“Well…since it comes from the Autumn Court, it would be safe to assume it’s the metal equivalent of a ruthless git.” Lucien shook his head, his crimson hair shifting in a stream of sunlight. “A human trapping a fae or two in some Ashwood is easy,” Lucien continued, “But then begs the question of what one would do from there.”

“Well, they’d have to lift the cage,”

“They’d be dead in seconds,” Lucien quipped, his head cocking to the side, whisps of his fiery hair following his movement. “Go on, don’t stop, think like a fae hunter.”

“I’d rather not,” Elain shivered slightly, very aware of how close Lucien was standing. Elain also didn’t fail in missing the dark shadow that passed through Lucien’s eye at the nod towards her ex-fiancé.

“Okay, then think like a fae.” Lucien swung his arms across his chest with a catlike grace, “You’re hunting, let’s see...an Attor, clearly feeling a little dangerous today. It’s walked right into your lovey cage of Ashwood, which let me say Lady Archeron, I must compliment you on your excellent lattice work.” Elain giggled and Lucien faltered in his speech, his eyes widening as he looked as though he’d struck gold. “So…” he cleared his throat, “You’ve trapped the Attor in your wonderful cage, then what?”

“Well, it depends on what I want an…At-tor, for?”

“Hm, interesting. Let’s say you need to cut out it’s tongue for a healing tonic.” Elain made a face, “Okay, okay, no tonics.”

“No tongues please.”

“Oh really?” Lucien couldn’t stop his shit-eating grin, especially when Elain began to blush furiously and avoid his eye. Something inside Lucien was racing, entirely giddy at the fact he was bantering with Elain, Elain, Archeron.

“The Attor?” Elain stressed, turning around and perching herself on a fallen trunk.

“Interrogation – you need vital information pronto, or the High Lord will have your head.”

“Rhysand?”

“Well if in this world you, Elain Archeron, are hunting an Attor, I think it’s perfectly reasonable to believe that I might be High Lord.”

“Of which court?”

“None of them. No, all of them. No wait, my own court – the ‘Lucien is incredibly handsome’ court.” Lucien was pushing his luck, that he knew. He was towing that line as always, the one between banter and a step too far. Saying something that would cause the other to retract from him, or carve out his eye. But Elain just tilted her head, her honey hair spilling across her pale dress.

“You have many devout followers in this court?”

“Maybe, but only one of them matters.” He grinned at her knowingly, testing the waters, seeing how far he could go with her before they remembered they were bonded by destiny. Something shy flickered across Elain’s face as she took in his meaning. And then.

“Are you peacocking right now?” Elain smiled, a real smile.

“I’m always peacocking,” Lucien grinned, a real grin. Then his eye caught on the hand Elain was still cradling to her chest, and something akin to agony tore through his chest.

“Mother, I’m sorry,” He muttered, his amusement having evaporated as he hurried to sit next to Elain, taking her ruined palm into his lap with a featherlight touch. “I can’t ever shut up. I just talk and talk and forget about the important things.”

“What are you doing?” Elain was sure he voice sounded somewhat strangled as Lucien zoned in on her mutilated palm, his metal eye whirring as he ran a single finger along it’s creases.

“I have the ability to heal,” Lucien’s voice also sounded a bit strained as he hunched himself over her hand.

“Oh…” Elain murmured, as a warm sensation prickled across her skin, and she watched as the red splotches clamed back into ivory. “You know,” Elain was practically whispering as Lucien moved to her fingers, “My skin never used to be this colour.”

“Oh?” Lucien seemed to be breathing through his mouth, and with is gaze occupied, Elain allowed herself to rove over his appearance. The knot of crimson hair, the strong yet angled brows, the white webs of his scar, prominent cheekbones, sharp jaw, full and wide lips, and a strong curved nose.

“No…” Elain breathed, “I always used to be so much tanner than my sisters, I was always in the gardens as we were growing up you see. My mother would ring me out for it. She’d love the colour I’m now.” The colour she’d been since the Cauldron. She didn’t know why she was telling him all this, or why it felt so natural to talk to him about these things. But here in the human lands, a world away from the sneers of Nesta or the gossiping of Feyre, Elain found that she didn’t mind the idea of conversing with Lucien.

“I was always the darkest out of my brothers,” Lucien moved to her second finger.

“How many do you have?”

“Seven,” Lucien met her eyes momentarily with a cheeky grin.

“Seven!” Elain smiled back, and then Lucien’s eyes seemed to darken and something in him seemed to rescind as he turned back to her hand.

“Well, I used to have seven…a few of them died.”

“Oh…I’m so sorry,” Lucien seemed to go to say something, his mouth turning into a frown, before he shook his head and moved to the next finger.

“I…my mother told it was because I’d been kissed by the Sun when I was born…that’s why I was so tan. I was born on the Autumn Equinox, it’s the longest day of autumn in the Autumn Court, the sun turns crimson and blesses the lands for the upcoming year.”

“That sounds very beautiful…”

“It is. It’s believed the trees come to life in the night and talk to each other, lovers of the earth able to speak for a few hours of the year. There’s feasts and fires, and we read stories of the sacrifice of the Wyvern.”

“Wyvern?” Elain’s yes turned bright and wide, “As in the animal from adventure novels?”

“Animal is an awfully polite term to describe harbinger’s of fire and death,” a grin flickered across Lucien’s face, “It’s believed that centuries and centuries ago, when the Old Gods still ruled the Earth, the Autumn Court was a nest of Wyverns. When the world changed into what it is today the mother Wyvern, Hermenegilda, scattered her cubs throughout time so that they may survive. Every year those of the Autumn Court gather in the caves to see if a cub will appear, and to praise the mother for her sacrifice.”

“Do they? The cubs, do they appear?”

“They used to, though a cub has not been found since before I was born. Courtiers tend to believe the cubs have run out, that there are no more children of the mother Wyvern, but devout believers still hope for a cub to appear each year.” With that, Lucien finished healing her pinkie finger and turned to peer at her. Their bodies still close, Elain’s palm still resting in his hand in his lap.

“You…what do you believe?” Elain breathed, her voice just a whisper.

“I think…well I…” Lucien’s voice was breathy and low, intimate in a way Elain hadn’t heard before, “...I’d like to believe that anything’s possible.”

Before Elain could have a moment to respond, or even think about what possible double meaning could come from his words, a furious flapping of wings caused her to startle and whip her head around, ripping her hand from Lucien’s lap in the process. There, on the other side of the cage, perched on a tree branch, was a beautiful bird. It was huge, with iridescent feathers and woody eyes, and the air surrounding the bird seemed to thrum with energy and magic.

“Don’t worry, it’s only Vassa.” Lucien nodded at the firebird, “…she’ll get Jurian for us.”

Elain just nodded, aware that her cheeks were still most likely flushed. Unable to meet Lucien’s eye, Elain watched as the firebird took off into the golden, mid-morning sky, a disapproving screech tearing from its throat.