#and sometimes tamlin cause i could fix him

[little-honeypie]

I'm cripplingly sad and kinda numb but my body is just "Oh it's h0rñy time? Yeah, it's h0rñy time. Think about fictional characters doing unspeakable things. While you lay devoid of emotion other than lewd thoughts :)" like bro pick a lane

[captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship]

FM2M Ch8

Nothing Is Going To Wake Me Now

Summary: Feyre is delving further into herself as she becomes more and more isolated in the Spring Court. Her powers are erratic, Tamlin's temper is on the rise, and she has some things to consider before she needs to make a decision about her future.

Read here on AO3

My nightmares began to blend together until they were reduced to pools of blood on marble floors, the cracking sound of bones splintering underfoot, and Amarantha’s last testament as I lay dying. Those words still echoed in my ears, haunting me even when my view of blood and bones were replaced by that of my reality.

“Admit you don’t really love him, and I’ll spare you. Admit what a cowardly, lying, inconstant bit of human garbage you are.”

“You think you’re worthy of him? A High Lord? You think you deserve anything at all, human?”

I hated to agree with that monster, but… I was not worthy. Not worthy of the screams that echoed my name, threatening to banish her ruby stain away. Not worthy of this new life I had been given when the two innocents I had murdered met the Mother’s embrace in my stead. Not worthy of those who have vowed to protect and love me.

Not worthy.

Not worthy.

Not worthy.

They say that sometimes you have to fake it until you make it, and I wondered just how long it would take for me to truly believe that I was not damned for Hel. That all of the pain and loss and death was worth it.

I am nobody.

I am no one.

I am not worthy.

I felt my power stir beneath my skin, but instead of coaxing it from its hiding spot and letting it comfort my aching soul, I pushed it down, down, down until it was firmly locked away. For once, I was too tired to care. All caring did was cause more pain. I just crawled back into bed where I slept, and slept, and slept.

Days bled into weeks, and soon I forgot how long it had been since my new existence began. As a fae, it didn’t seem to matter now anyways. The need I once had to acclimate to my new life was stifled by the sheer unchanging nature of this court. I made my home within the walls of my room and the library, only leaving the haven of the manor to stroll amongst the rose gardens. I hadn’t dared enter the wing of the home where my painting room lay dormant, awaiting a soul to wake it from its slumber.

Tamlin was away from the Manor more often than not. Part of me hated myself for feeling a little more at ease when he was gone. It was just one less person to lie to, to fake smiles with, to pretend that I was the same girl who had drank faerie wine and danced the night away during the Summer Solstice. I didn’t want to disappoint him, and I didn't want to tell him that there was no fixing a soul that was broken beyond repair. Fortunately, he hadn’t tried to kiss me again, save for a kiss on the hand or cheek here and there. It felt as if all of the time we had put into our relationship leading up to now had been swept away in the wind.

There was no lack of effort on Tamlin’s part to return to simpler times, to our life before we went Under the Mountain. When he was home we would sit at meals together, walk through the grounds, and make small talk. I could see how much he craved a sense of normalcy, and I tried my best to fall back into our old routines.For his sake, I could at least try. He tried to hide his stress from me when we were together, but every time I tried to get him to open up about what was bothering him he just shut me out.

In the days that Tamlin was around and in the mood for company, Ianthe rarely left his side. They would have lengthy conversations over meals, and I could hear them bickering over tea and pastries long after I would excuse myself from their presence. Sometimes I wondered if one of my new budding powers was invisibility because I was rarely acknowledged, if I was noticed at all. Just as well, I suppose, because there was something unsettling about Ianthe. Without Lucien, it was just the three of us and part of me was grateful to fade away into the background. It made it easier not to care- not to bother with court posturing that I felt completely out of my depth with. The conversation I overheard a fortnight ago became a distant memory, and no one seemed to suspect that I had been lurking in the shadows.

Ianthe spent her days doting around the manor, acting more as a Lady of the house than I did. I was greatful that she took those menial tasks away from me, I wanted nothing to do with picking what teas would be served at meals and seating arrangements for parties. Apparently, she was planning a gathering next month for the people of the land and deemed my input invaluable. I truly didn’t care for any of it, but there was no point in denying her.

My aloof relationship with Ianthe made me appreciate the time I had spent with Mor even more. I was slowly realizing that Mor was the closest thing I had to a true friendship with another female. I was always surrounding myself with the boys of the village- at first because they were happy to run out in the mud with me across our estate and later because they knew the tips and tricks to surviving in the woods even in the harshest winters.

Mor’s friendship was one of the few things keeping me sane. When I was sure that no one was paying attention, I would pull out my notebook and talk with her. No matter the time of day, she was always quick to respond. There were some days where she was the only other being I would speak with. We would talk to each other about our days, tell each other stories from our childhoods, and it was nice to know she would always be there. She never once passed judgment- never once shied away from the hard conversations. In some ways she was becoming more of a sister to me than my own were.

Thinking of my sisters always cleared the way for a pang of loss and grief to strike my chest. There were some days I wished that Elain were here. She would love the party planning, talks of the latest fashion, and spending hours on end in the extensive gardens. I even missed Nesta, and in her own way I think that she would fit in more with the fae than even I did. She was born to be a general, commanding anyone and everyone in her wake with an iron fist. I tried not to think of them that often, as it only ushered in memories of a life that I no longer was welcome in. I quickly buried thoughts of them away into that part of my human heart that had withered away.

My headaches seemed to come in waves. Some days I felt fine, the connection to my magic almost feeling normal. When I had access to it, my whole body hummed with a contentment that made me feel whole. Other days I was so sick that I didn’t have the strength to get out of bed. I had brought it up to Ianthe once during an afternoon tea in the rose garden. She had just told me that when a fae comes into their power it wanes and flows until it settles. That what I was experiencing was normal . That maybe I might not even have significant magic once its volatile nature settles. There was no point to have it during the time of great peace our lands are now seeing, she had said. I didn’t bother to remind her that nothing about me was normal. In reality, no one really knew what was wrong with me as I was the first and only of my kind. My existence only raised questions with no answers.

No one seemed to notice me these days, especially with Lucien gone. He was off on emissary missions to the neighboring courts, and his missing presence weighed on my heart. He was the only one who I could talk to here, who knew my secrets. The only one I trusted in this court to confide in. Most would use that knowledge against me, but not him. Never him.

The loneliness was made worse by the fact I was never really alone. There were always at least two guards stationed near me- outside my bedroom, below my balcony, outside the study. No matter where I roamed, there were sentries. I could tell they were trying to be discreet and keep a respectful distance away, but that didn’t stop the hairs on the back of my neck from constantly standing on edge. None of the fae around the manor bothered to speak with me, aside from Alis, but they did gawk. Gawk at their savior- cursebreaker- they called me. I know they tried not to stare, and I couldn’t really blame them for it. It didn’t make it any less comfortable, though.

Some were wary of my presence, like I was a lion prowling amongst gazelles. Others looked at me like I was holy. Those were the ones I hated the most. I was never treated like this when I was a human, when I was so fragile and weak compared to the immortal beings surrounding me. Now that I was one of them, they treated me more like a porcelain doll than ever before.

I hated the title almost as much as the staring. I didn’t dare leave the grounds and visit my glen again. There were too many eyes on me these days. No real chance to slip away. I would have to explain where I was going to the guards stationed around my room, and they would be obligated to tell Tamlin. Despite his consistent absence from the manor, the temporary reprieve wasn’t worth the ire and inconvenience it would cause him.

I floated through the estate like a ghost, stuck to relive my human life on repeat for eternity. I began rising later and later in the day, and some days I stayed in bed well past the time Alis would bring lunch to my rooms. I rarely ever ate what she brought me, and some deep rooted part of me screamed at how spoiled I had become. Long gone were the days when I would have dreamt of having a plate of hot food to fill my aching belly. My mind often drifted south, below the wall, to the life that felt so distant now that it felt like it belonged to someone else. It was only a year ago that we had been so desperate after an unusually slow summer that we went almost a week sustained on nothing but broth and some half-edible vegetables. Elain had recieved them as payment for helping a more affluent townsperson with their garden. These days, I seemed to eat less than I had then. The food in this court was too rich, too harsh. It felt like a waste to consume it, only to inevitably end my nights kneeled in front of my toilet heaving my stomach contents out of my system.

When I was up for a change of scenery from my bedroom, I would hole myself up in the study. I would spend hours sitting at a small desk in the back of the library underneath the tapestry of the creation of Prythian. I gave up on my search for finding books on those strange symbols and focused instead on learning as much as I could about the world I now lived in.

Most days I would rarely ever see or speak to anyone. My reading and writing had been accelerating at an incredible rate, and by the second week back I was consuming any tome I could get my hands on. The only marker for the passage of time became the increasing stack of books I had read in their entirety. I finished the Unabridged History of Prythian within a week, and began learning about the customs of the different courts. It was fascinating how each court developed right next to each other, but they could not be more different. There were similarities across all courts, of course, but each court was so unique in their clothing, histories, and customs.

I would read a page from a book and then copy a paragraph onto a piece of parchment. Soon, the feel of a pen was as natural to me as a paintbrush once had. My brain consumed all of the information around me like a sponge. I didn’t realize just how little I knew about our world, and how ill equipped I was to navigate it. I could not believe that just a few months ago I almost died from not knowing the skill that felt like second nature now. I hadn’t lied when I had told Rhys that I never wanted to feel weak again. I realize now that if I had eternity to live, I needed to know these skills.

Once the sun set, the library would grow dark and eerie. Despite the large windows to my back, the walls would always seem to close in, and all of the darkness lingering in my thoughts would begin to swarm. It kept pushing on my subconscious until the once expansive room felt as cramped as the Middengard Wyrm’s lair. I would be forced to seek shelter from the storm of emotions and memories that threatened to be released from their cage. More often than not, I would find myself staring up at the stars until I would fall asleep on my balcony, with only a candle and a book to keep me company. During the day, I would read more practical books, ones that taught me about the world. In the evenings, I tried to read something light if only to keep the darkness from my nightmares at bay. The nights were warm- balmy despite the crisp autumn chill that must have begun to settle into the Mortal Lands. Even the weather here was content with leisure and had long forgotten what change was like.

When I wasn’t reading or practicing my writing, I would work on building up my mental shields. Soon it became a striking adamant wall, glistening, thick and impenetrable. I would hold it in place until the feeling became as inherent as breathing. Despite all my hard work, it was impossible to tell how well they actually held up under pressure without another daemati to help me train. On the days where I could feel my magic, I would train it until I was spent and tired. I would only have enough energy left to drink some tea before going to sleep. Many times after my clandestine training sessions, I would wake up and my magic would lay dormant again.

I tried to not let my spiraling thoughts overtake my life, but I was haunted by the abyss my power left in its wake when they would disappear. It was just another hole in my chest that I had lost my desire to fill. But, my magic felt… empty. Almost as if it had been missing. Although I could still practice my mental shielding no matter my ability to access my magic, my capacity to feel the world around me had been dulled- censored. Every few nights, in between the nightmares and trips to the toilet, I would feel the rush of my powers, and it would overtake me once more. They still felt distant, somehow, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on? What was wrong with me? I was too tired to delve further, though.

Too tired to care.

I hadn’t heard a word from Rhys, not a single tap on my mental shields. We never shared our dreams with each other again, either. Honestly, I barely felt him on the other side of the bond most days- if at all. He was busy, and his court must have been in as much shambles as this one. He didn’t have the time to check in down the bond, despite the ache in my chest that would sometimes surface at the thought of it. At the idea that he didn’t think of me as often as he seemed to pop into my head. At random times during the day, I would think of him, what he was doing, if he was alive.

Stupid mating bond- I didn’t know if it was me who cared about such things, or the instincts involved with having a mate outside of my grasp. I had no idea how any of it worked. I pushed the thoughts of Rhys out of my head as fast as they had popped in. I am sure he is getting a lot more work done now that he doesn’t have to go back and forth between the moonstone palace and wherever he spent his days.

Despite it all, I didn’t care about most things anymore. With books being my only source of consistent company, there was no one, including myself, who cared enough to notice that I had delved further and further into myself. No one bothered to see the raging empty pit inside me that was growing by the day, threatening to devour me whole with every passing breath.

Continue on AO3

Tag list: @thebelladonnamoon @s-uppertime @vulpes-fennec @the-lonelybarricade @panicatthenightcourt @coracrowart @starfall-spirit @freyjas-musings @vikingmagic33 @hlizr50 @valeridarkness @lokisllama @aldbooks @foreverinelysian @dxnniiix @popjunkie42 @mis-lil-red @rhysiedarling @bearbluebooks @sadiegirl2021 @foundress0fnothing @climbthemountain2020

Let me know if you would like to be added :)

[spidersmiceandeverythingnice]

Ya know what tbqh I'm having a lot more fun interacting with SJM since deciding to hash tag stan tamlin but also what grinds my gears!?!? What butters my fucking croissants!?!?!

Tamlin has HOBBIES.

No no. Seriously. I have a point. Listen:

We know the following pieces of information about the Spring Court/Tamlin in ACOTAR: Most of the government falls squarely on Tamlin's shoulders because most of the old guard and the former sentries are dead, because they left the Spring Court to search for a "cure." He and Lucien actively patrol their borders and hunt for monsters that threaten humans and faeries alike. Taxes are collected once a year via the Tithe, but Tamlim absolishes the Tithe during Amarantha's rule. There are no cities. There is almost no distinction in the Court between High Fae and "lesser fae." He was a victim of abuse via his father and two much older brothers. Human slaves used to be common, but Tamlin finds his family history abhorrent and considers himself a protector type. He personally took Lucien to another Court for healing after Amarantha damaged his eye in a way that Tamlin himself could not fix. A faerie dies in his living room and Tamlin personally buries him. Tamlin takes refugees from other courts. The most important holiday is Calanmai, wherein Tamlin sacrifices his bodily autonomy and gets possessed by a god (?) in order to generate magic during the changing of seasons. He can be grouchy but he has a sense of humor; he writes silly poems for fun and plays music well enough that Feyre thinks he could make an actual career of it.

A lot of this gets re-conned, re-framed as "conservative" and sometimes actively ignored in order to attribute more positive qualities to Rhys - who in ACOTAR, is shown to be a manipulative liar who commits murder for fun and drugs/assaults Feyre. Tamlin clearly suffers from PTSD in ACOMAF but his symptoms are not "noble" or cute like Feyre. The narrative postulates that while Feyre needs to learn that she's worthy of love and freedom and that her dark past doesnt define her, Tamlin needs to be "redeemed" because his trauma is not as important or as valid as hers, and he can't be worthy of help until he repents for his "crime" of acting in ways that are - from his perspective- completely logical, and based in genuinely good/loving intentions.

In ACOWAR, Feyre states that she begins implanting/altering the memories of Tamlin in other people's heads to make them abandon him. She also steals a gift (presumably, a gift from Rhys to Tamlin) because she doesn't feel he deserves it, and contemplates burning down the rose garden which is pretty much all Tamlin has left of his mother.

This... does not make me hate Tamlin in the slightest. I read these books and actively struggle to hate him the way the narrative wants because everything about him is legitimately just tragic and pitiable.

While all this goes on the narrative goes on to reposition Rhysand - the guy who caused a lot of the main heroine trauma - as the best guy who ever lived. He's cruel to be kind, deeply misunderstood and hurting in silence. A martyr whose pain is just like the heroine's, who is an immortal ancient warrior king more powerful than any other person in the world but still somehow the narrative equal of a barely literate 20 year old woman. That sure is a choice and ya know what fine, whatever, I accept that this is the story I'm reading. But back to my earlier point:

What hobby does Rhysand have other than sex and fighting?

Answer me. Quickly.

The retcons with Tamlins character are annoying on their own because SJM clearly thinks her audience is too stupid to remember book one of her own series. But it's especially annoying for me given that Rhysand is a boring mouthpiece for the author to moralize her faerie books. As a character he's incredibly bland. There's nothing about him that's compelling because everything "bad" that he does is justified and righteous, and he can't be challenged or hurt because that would make Feyre (the other author mouthpiece) very sad. :(

Anyway remember to stan tamlin, send tweet.

[vidalinav]

Hii. I followed you yesterday cause I agree on most of the things that you say about a court of silver flames. I am sorry if that made you anxious. It was my intention.

I completely agree with you though. I hate the inner circle with passion (leaving out Cassian ofc) and feel like a court of silver flames is a horrible book written without a thought. I just hate how I get attacked when I say that the inner circle is disgusting and needs help but everyone is just fine when those same words are said about Tamlin (I don’t love Tamlin; I just think that he has also been through a lot and deserves some help too!)

Sorry, I know this isn’t an ask but I just wanted you to know that you are amazing and Feysand is disgusting and no better than Feylin.

I mean it’s cool. I get anxious about almost everything that is just my personality. I went through like two years of having about 800 followers and I knew everyone that I followed and who posted on a regular basis. Like maybe not super close, I’m definitely close to more people now. So yay for ACOSF in that respect. I made many friends who chat with me quite a lot. But now I have seen QUITE a lot of new people join this fandom or actively engage in this fandom I guess since the book came out which is..... I don’t want to gatekeep or anything, but it’s so weird and everyone changed their username and I’m like who the hell are all of you?  And now I have many many more followers and I see the hate in this fandom so often, even in people’s comments and I don’t want that to happen to me. I cannot and won’t deal with that stuff. I’ve blocked so many people since the pre-emptive release of this book. I sometimes forget that this fandom is bigger than I think it is. Because I interact with like 45 people and that’s about it and then I see blatant hate posts in tags, or people not tagging things correctly, and I’m like omg I gotta go. 

But that was my long winded way of saying it’s cool! Follow me, y’all are welcome, just don’t write hate on my stuff and thank you for the compliment. 

That being said I don’t hate the IC. I definitely sound like I hate them in some of my posts. I just have a very big problem with the character development in this series, and the imbalance of character development, which I think is a writer problem. I certainly think that if it was more thought out to include a more well-rounded approach to healing then I wouldn’t have had such a problem with many things that occurred. For example, like if Feyre and Nesta actually had scenes where they began to understand each other, I wouldn’t have thought the pregnancy plot was stupid (even though it had so many potholes). If Rhys had also come to some understanding about himself alongside his views on Nesta, and Nesta began to heal as well, than I wouldn’t have thought the ending was just to wrap things up. If Mor had a scene with Nesta where she doesn’t just learn what Nesta has been through, but who Nesta is, then I wouldn’t have thought it would be weird that Mor would have just changed her attitude about her in the middle of the book. But none of this happened, and unfortunately Cassian also didn’t get enough character development. So Nesta looked in the wrong for the majority of this book, instead of looking like someone who is hurt and very traumatized. Or I suppose she did look hurt and eventually they come to realize she’s traumatized, but because the narrative is so imbalanced and then at the end we have such a great emphasis on fixing relationships, it doesn’t work well, because none of the relationship really had any basis to be fixed. There was no foundation, no build up, no evidence to support the claim that these relationships would work, except that Nesta changed even though we don’t really know if she did. That’s a next book thing, whether or not Nesta will be full inner circle or still somewhat contentious and uncompliant. Could go either way. 

It was all over the place and so even though I thought it was a good book in certain aspects, it fell short in MANY aspects, which I have said many times. It is not 5 stars. I don’t hate it. But it’s not 5/5. 

Tamlin is complicated... I would like to see SJM try to redeem him. But I’ve said this in a post a long time ago, about the likelihood of this being successful. Because the fandom can’t ignore what they already know, and SJM tends to like making tragic pasts to make up for the fact that they’re abusive assholes. To redeem him, SJM would have to be better at writing I think. Like he would need a Zuko arc from ATLA, where he learns, we understand him, and he consistently shows that he’s changed, and even then he would just have to accept that people still might not forgive him, but it wouldn’t be a redemption to the characters in the book, because they don’t care about him, it would be a redemption to the fandom which still might not be successful. It would require a lot of introspection and it would be probably complicated. I would like to see it but not from SJM. Mostly because I love arcs that are based on the fact that people can change and should change, even the worst of us. But that’s my own preference. 

Anyway, as always my posts got longer than they needed to be. So... bye I guess. Until next time. 

[perseusannabeth]

blame it on the alcohol

Summary:  Elain gets drunk and decides to sleep in Lucien's room. Also, she keeps talking about her boobs.

Elain was drunk. She was very drunk, not even just tipsy, all thanks to Mor who had convinced her to go to Rita’s with the rest of the girls. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, her hair was slightly messy, her eyes were slightly glazed over. It was the drunkest Lucien had ever seen Elain, and it was endearing. Even when Elain was so drunk she could barely stand, she still managed to take Lucien’s breath away. He couldn’t quite believe that she was stood at the entrance of his room, panting like she had run a marathon, grinning from ear to ear.

They had been taking things slow in regards to the mating bond. He spent time in the gardens with Elain, sometimes watching, sometimes helping. They would talk about everything and nothing. They were slowly getting to know each other and were getting more and more comfortable around each other. The physical aspects of their relationship were limited to holding hands, linking arms, Lucien kissing her hands and Elain sometimes kissing Lucien on the cheeks. Although the mating bond tugged and gnawed at Lucien, he found he could easily ignore it, when just thinking of Elain’s face flushed, her beaming with happiness, her eyes shining with fondness and joy, and a happy, content feeling washing over him through the bond. As long as Elain looked and felt like that, Lucien could deal with whatever was thrown at him.

Or so he had foolishly thought, until now. Elain pushed past him and walked into his room, sitting herself down on the foot of his bed clumsily. He closed the door cautiously and turned to look at Elain, who had kicked her shoes off and was sat with her legs crossed on his bed.

“Is everything alright dove?” he asked as he walked towards the shirt he had draped over a chair when he had gotten ready for bed. His sleep-addled brain hadn’t thought to put a shirt on before he answered the incessant knocking at his door.

“Do you usually sleep without a shirt on?” Lucien couldn’t even tell if she was ignoring his question, or whether she didn’t even register that he had spoken.

“Yes, I do, unless it’s very cold.”

“Is it cold now?”

“No.”

“Then don’t put it back on.”

At that, he stilled, his shirt in his hands, hovering mid-air as he was about to put it on. He turned to look at Elain, who was openly staring at his chest. He felt a rush of pride that his mate was staring at him, appreciating his body. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t think of what to say. Instead, he watched as Elain stretched out her hand, until she was grasping the shirt, and slowly took it out of his hands, her eyes still roaming his torso.

“I want to sleep here tonight,” she said, snapping herself out of the trance she had been in as she finally met his eyes.

“That’s fine. I’ll sleep on the cha-”

“No! You have to stay with me!” she cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.

“Elain, dove, you’re very drunk right now. You wouldn’t want this if you were sober,” he said softly, trying to reason with her.

“Actually, I would I’m just too scared to ask for it,” she slurred her words but grinned as she spoke. Lucien decided that grin might be the death of him. “If you make me leave, I’ll cry and then tell Nesta you made me cry.”

Lucien’s eyes widened at such a threat coming from Elain. “Now you’re just playing dirty,” he huffed out with a slight laugh. “No need to resort to that, you can stay,” he held his hands up in surrender.

Elain let out a little giggle as she straightened her legs so they dangled in front of her, her dress still bunched up under her as she swung her legs. Lucien quickly looked away, before moving to try to help Elain to fix her dress. Elain was modest, and he knew she would be mortified at her behaviour right now, and Lucien didn’t want that to happen. Drunk Elain, however, had no problem with showing her legs, and tried to wiggle away from Lucien, laughing as she did, and almost kicking Lucien in the face for his efforts.

“Right then dove, why don’t we get you into bed,” he said, giving up on that idea and gesturing to the blanket which was still folded over from when he had gotten out. It was clearly safer when Elain was under the blanket, for both parties involved.

“Okay!” Elain jumped up onto the floor, turning her back to him, and then, to Lucien’s horror, started undoing the laces on her dress.

Lucien grabbed her hands quickly and turned her around to see her brown doe eyes filled with confusion. “What are you doing?” he asked, wishing his voice didn’t sound like he had swallowed sand.

“I can’t sleep in this,” she said slowly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I especially can’t sleep with my bra on, that would hurt my breasts,” she said, hugging her chest, frowning at the possible pain they might go through. Lucien let out a choked sound but couldn’t speak, which Elain took as a sign to carry on talking about her problems. “They always hurt already, if I slept with my bra on, they would definitely cause trouble.”

Elain shook her head, before continuing to undo her dress. Lucien’s eyes widened, and he quickly turned around, not knowing what else to do. He heard the soft thud of fabric hitting the floor, as well as another smaller fabric, hitting the floor after. Lucien tried to think of something, anything to take his mind off the fact that his mate was stood, almost naked in his room, but it was no use. His face heated, and the heat seemed to run through his veins.

“It must be so easy being a male, you don’t get people staring at your chest,” Elain said with a sigh.

“Who stares at your chest?” He growled, the thought of others ogling at his mate making him feel a simmering rage deep inside.

“Lots of people do. Sometimes I think males forget that females can see that their eyes wander. Still, it was worse when they first started growing. I used to want to rub them because they were so tender and sensitive but then that drew attention to them.” Lucien bit back a groan at the thought of Elain touching her breasts, his mind drifting to her touching herself in other ways before he could stop himself. He cursed silently, as he thought of Tamlin, Eris, Beron, Nesta, anyone to stop his thoughts. His sleeping trousers were already tightening uncomfortably. He quickly adjusted himself, before turning around to see what his mate was doing.

She was covered, thank the cauldron, however, she was wearing the shirt she had insisted he couldn’t wear, and cauldron boil him, the sight of her in his shirt, her cheeks flushed and her hair dishevelled nearly had him on his knees. This was clearly a punishment for all the terrible things he had done, he decided.

“Let’s get you into bed,” he managed to rasp out quickly before she decided to carry on torturing him.

Elain nodded and let him guide her into the space that Lucien had vacated in the bed, and Lucien couldn’t help but watch as those long, smooth legs slid under the covers, which he then pulled up under her chin, hoping it would be enough to stop him from seeing anything he shouldn’t.

As he walked around to the other side of the bed, lying on top of the covers for some semblance of propriety in the situation, Elain decided to continue her torture session.

“I used to wish my breasts weren’t so big. They always cause so much backache, and the men always used to stare. When we were poor it was difficult to buy bras that fit me, because the bigger the breasts the bigger the price for the bra. Then when the bra didn’t fit me they would fall out of the bra, which drew more attention to them, or the bra would dig in and leave bruises and marks. My nipples are always sticking out at the slightest thing too, I think that must mean they're really sensitive.”

Lucien pushed the palm of his hands into his eyes, rubbing them as he wondered what he had done that deserved this much punishment. Perhaps in a previous life, he had human slaves, or maybe he had murdered people in cold blood. Maybe he had drowned baby animals for fun. It had to be something terrible if he had to listen to this.

“Feyre said that males prefer bigger breasts though, is that true?” she asked, turning those big doe eyes on him.

“I, don’t really, I’m not, I don’t know?” he managed to stutter out, his eyes drifting to her chest almost automatically, the blanket had shifted slightly, before berating himself and looking away. Looking at her chest would mean he was no better than the people he just contemplated running his sword through.

“Do you like big breasts? Or my breasts?” Lucien squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that this was just a terrible dream, nobody could give him blue balls this cruelly, surely. “Maybe you can’t comment because you haven’t seen them.”

Lucien’s eyes flew open at Elain's comment as she moved the covers, her hands going to the bottom of his shirt to lift it up. At the flash of black lace, Lucien grabbed her hand and pulled it away, pulling the shirt down as far as it could go and pulling the covers up again.

“I can’t comment yet, but I’m sure they’re lovely dove,” he said, slowly releasing her hand. “However, I think you should show me them another time, not right now,” he said, marvelling at his own self-control when he could feel his dick press against his trousers, the mating bond begging him to touch his mate, to please her, begging to break free. He thought of what Nesta would do if she saw what was happening, and imagined the kind of pain his balls would suffer if she could hear the things he was thinking, and the painful need started to slowly ebb away, thank the Mother.

“I can show you another time?” she asked, yawning slightly.

“Any time you’re sober dove.” he leaned in and kissed her forehead. She sigh, and pressed her body up against him, Lucien managing to angle his hips away as Elain rested her head against his chest and breathing in his scent as she started to drift off slowly.

Lucien held his breath until her breathing slowly evened out, and he was sure that she was asleep. He smiled as he looked down on his sleeping mate. She would be embarrassed in the morning, he knew, but he could enjoy the fact she was here, sleeping in his bed for now. He watched her, the smile not falling from his face until he fell asleep, holding his mate.

♥♥♥

Elain woke up to the sun streaming through the window. She groaned, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, hoping it would help the hangover. As she slowly became more awake, she realised her bed smelt differently, like pumpkins and freshly cut grass. Then she noticed how warm she was, and - oh.

She opened her eyes and saw Lucien’s sleeping form next to her. Her eyes widened with panic as she looked around the room, noticing her dress and bra on the floor. She looked under the covers and saw she was wearing Lucien’s shirt! Her panic subsided slightly as she noticed that Lucien had slept above the covers.

“Good morning dove” Lucien’s voice, raspy from sleep made her jump. She looked up to see him smile as he kissed her forehead.

“I - what am I doing here?” she asked him cautiously.

Lucien grinned. “You decided you wanted to sleep here. But of course, you couldn’t sleep with your bra on, so you decided to start stripping.”

Elain’s face went bright red. “You didn’t end up…” she trailed off, unable to finish her question.

“I saw your lovely legs, but nothing more, although you did try.” he laughed.

Elain gasped, as the memories flooded back, hiding her face in her hands and groaning. “I tried to show you my breasts!” she groaned out, horrified at her behaviour.

“Don’t worry dove, I didn’t mind it. You were drunk, and rather adorable, even if you caused a few problems for me. Still, nothing that couldn’t be fixed by thinking of what Nesta would do to me.”

“I can’t believe it. What came over me?” she said, slowly looking up at her laughing mate.

“I can’t say I know dove, but if you ever need anyone to give an opinion on your breasts, I’m always willing to sacrifice my time for that noble cause,” he teased.

Elain couldn’t stand the teasing and wanted him to be quiet. In fact, she wanted to be the one laughing at him, and so, without letting herself overthink, she leaned in and captured his lips, his laughter quickly dying, as he froze at the feeling of her lips on his. Elain started pulling away when Lucien wrapped his arms around her and kissed her slowly.

Elain pulled away, out of breath from the kissing. She felt her face flush as she looked up at her mate, whose face was frozen in shock, his eyes glazed over slightly. She felt a rise of smug satisfaction as she saw him speechless from a kiss. It gave her the confidence to get up and get her discarded clothes and walk into the bathroom to get dressed.

When she emerged, Lucien was sat up on the bed, smiling at her as she came out. She blushed slightly as her eyes roamed his naked torso, remembering how she had been hypnotised by it last night.

“Well, that’ll teach you to be so smug.”

“El, if that was to stop me from being smug then you’d better think of a better deterrent. That was not a way to deter me,” his eyes drifted to her lips.

“No, but just think of what happens when Nesta finds out that I was almost naked in your bed and I kissed you.”

Lucien’s eyes widened as Elain left the room quickly before she did something else to embarrass herself. The thought of Lucien’s horrified face had her laughing all the way to her own rooms. She decided she didn’t care who found out where she had spent the night and would be able to calm Nesta down easily, but Lucien didn’t need to know that.

[drjackandmissjo]

Watch me make ‘em bow one by one by

Feysand Masterlist

Feyre’s first time in the Hewn City, Rhys-less

“You don't have to go in alone.” Mor said with a grave tone. Her friend was willing to go straight into the worst place in the universe for her, in case she didn't feel comfortable.

Feyre’s heart constricted at the idea of putting the blonde in that position, even Rhys tried to limit her time under the House of Mist.

“I'm not going there alone. Do you think any of those Illyrians are letting me out of their sight unsupervised? I could try to tell Az to stay here and take you with me, but we both know he wouldn't stay put.” she laughed, fretting nonchalance although her heart was already racing and her hands were clammy, toying with her bracelets and rings to keep from shaking. Mor noticed, of course, as did the warrior behind her.

A year had passed since they defeated Hybern. A wonderful year of going to court meetings and patching years of damaged history and rewiring the mental links that kept people believing that the Night Court, her court, was wicked and cruel and violent and ruthless. Feyre worked hard, studied harder, to make sure they made their world a better place. As did Rhys and everyone of her new family. Her sisters were still adjusting, Elain better than Nesta, but slowly and neither wanted anything to do with official business. She was secretly glad about it, since it meant less conflict with her eldest sister who had an opinion, sometimes wrong or simply bad, about everything, and less pressure on the other, who was still learning how to handle her new powers.

Although maybe with Nesta by her side, Feyre would've been less nervous about the meeting.

Feeling a stroke of concern through the mental bond she had with her mate, she replied back with a calming and encouraging one.

Taking in a deep breath of the cold air, she looked up at her friend, :“Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. If something goes wrong I'll simply destroy everyone in that throne room.” she said, a wicked smile appearing on her painted lips.

Her whole outfit was picked for the sole purpose of flaunting her position as High Lady: a tight black bodice, sleeveless to reveal her tattoos that expressed her power over the court and completely backless, to remind everyone of her alliance with the monster Bryaxis; several layers of ruffled silk, rigorously black, that made her look like she was a walking storm cloud, ready to unleash rain and lighting, which she could do easily; a diadem made of onyx and silver, crowning her as High Lady, matching with a ring that signaled her imminent wedding with the most powerful of High Lords. Her eyes were lined with black kohl and lips stained blood red. She had hidden her wings, choosing instead to use Spring's powers to elongate her canines, giving her an extra cruel look. Even if he was useless as a ruined rag full of holes, she had to admit that Tamlin’s powers were quite helpful in more ways than one.

She looked powerful, felt nervous and was ready to kill. ‘Just a regular Friday, then.’ said her mate through the bond.

Mor still didn't look convinced, but patience was not amongst Feyre's virtues, so she simply waved at the other female, before turning to Azriel, who was dutifully ready. His bright blue siphons contrasted his dark clothing and his shadows circled around his body, whispering to him and following his command. He shoot them out before silently winnow away, to announce her surprise visit.

No one in the Court of Nightmares knew of this impromptu meeting, especially Mor’s father, Keir, who recently was causing some commotion. Voices travelled fast to the spymaster’s ears and were immediately reported. Rhys, who was in Winter to fix the dent in his and Kallias’ relationship, asked her if she was ready to terrorise them herself, and Feyre was rather glad of the opportunity to prove herself.

When one of Azriel’s shadows came back, she simply turned once more to her friend.

“Good luck. Don't kill them all in one sitting.”

Laughing, Feyre took off winnowing to her other formal residence.

@@@

The first thing she noticed, as always, was the cold wind. She could feel the mountain below, the life and depraved actions of the many vile creatures that inhabited the lower levels. She had appeared on the upper levels, on the mansion atop of the mountain, where she once had to stay once a month for a short period of time.

Slowly, she let a little of her powers run free, reach far into the core of the mountain. She made in tremble with a single thought and felt the panic rise fast in the minds of the Fae below her. Long gone were the days when she was the one afraid of them, a different life far away from the reality she now lived in.

A shadow patiently waited for her, leading her way as guards with stiff spines tensed and bowed at her as she walked past them, not giving a single glance to any.

When she reached the massive and heavy doors, she viciously smirked at the two other guards, that quickly opened them for her, pungent fear drenching their scents. Her Shadowsinger appeared behind her, manifesting easily out of his shadows with an unreadable expression on his stoic face.

‘Everything okay?’ he mentally asked her through the small opening she had left for him, knowing neither him nor Rhys would've let her go to the Hewn City without an emergency hidden signal for Az to read immediately.

Imperceptibly nodding, she sighed deeply before loudly complaining languidly to none in particular, :“It is rather humid in here.”. With a wicked grin, she used her Day wind, eliciting terrified screams and making cups and papers and skirts fly in a turbulent haze.

Genuinely smiling at the havoc she wrecked, the High Lady of the Night Court began to slowly walk towards the two equal thrones at the end of the room, deliberately taking her time and looking at everything and everyone. The high Faes parted on her wake and bowed deeply, averting her piercing gaze. She could easily feel their thoughts, scared and confused and silently begging the Cauldron for mercy.

‘Good.’ she simply thought.

A proud wave washed over the bond, encouraging her to keep going.

When she reached the dais off the two thrones, she casually glanced back: the inhabitants of that corrupted court were still bowing, some kneeled to the ground, all with low eyes staring at the ground. Azriel was still behind her, advert to any possible danger but looking extremely bored. She immediately spotted Keir, who was bowed next to the thrones but openly staring at her, challenging her.

Feyre had came plenty of times there with Rhys, to torment and rule beside him. But this was her first time alone, the most important of those visits. And Keir was trying to get on her nerves, to make her lose focus and slip.

‘He is an utter fool.’ she thought, sharing the message with the shadow singer, the corners of whose mouth tugged slightly upwards.

‘Show time, Feyre.’

Facing again in front of her and walking up the steps to her thrones, she called back :“Why don't you make yourself useful, dear Keir, and bring us something to drink.”, stressing her way of addressing him, the importance of the explicit delivery of the action clear.

She knew he had bolted upwards, offended by her words and speechless to reply, before she had even turned to the room. Indeed he was staring at her, pure hatred in his eyes as they burned with rage. She simply smiled sweetly baring her fangs at him, waiting for his move.

He had three possibilities, three paths laying ahead of him: retort back, commenting how he was not a squire rather rudely, and thus disobeying to a specific order from his High Lady; sending another to attend the task and, again, not completing fully her command; doing as she had politely asked, without commenting. He looked more inclined for the first choice, but he managed to regain composure, apparently remembering that she still had not dismissed them from their slouched positions and bowed once more, falsely and deep to the waist. His scent full of hatred.

‘Poor fool, he believes he's running the show!’ she thought to herself.

“Today, Keir. Unless you have something to object.” was all the attention she gave to the older male, before casting a broad glaze at the crowd beneath her. She was torn between leaving them like that for her entire stay, conscious that only few would dare defy her and ready to strike them down. Instead she simply said “Carry on with your usual stuff”, adding a dismissal wave of her hand that they might’ve missed and they quickly reverted back to their activities, the majority of their scents dripping fear.

She noticed some musical instruments on one corner of the room, undoubtedly the most acoustic place that guaranteed the sounds to be carried to all the four corners, behind stone pillars and to the walls. “Someone play.” she ordered and immediately a few inhabitants of the court of Nightmares began to stroke the cords of the harp and the piano, creating a smoothing melody that reverberated throughout the spacious area.

Pleased, she moved from her poised sitting position, sprawling on the chair like a cat on a couch, and began to stare at her black coated nails, the perfect picture of boredom.

Not even a minute had passed that she turned to her spymaster, who was casually leaning against one of the pillars of the ceiling, another picture of complete annoyance, were not for his hyper vigilant eyes. “If he's not here in a moment, break his fingers.” she said, loudly enough to be heard by all and elicit terrified gasps from the court.

The Illyrian warrior simply shrugged.

Unfortunately for them, Keir appeared to the dais off the thrones in that same instant, eyes wide at the treat. “Shame” she said, again loud enough to be heard and let him approach. She took the cup of wine he was handing her as Azriel moved up the stairs to collect his.

Keir grew bolder, “What do we owe this unexpected visit, Milady?” he asked. His tone was not openly hostile, but masqueraded poorly his blatant disdain towards her.

Ignoring him completely, she swirled her glass, focusing her interests to its red content. “Should I have it checked for poison, Steward?”

Keir nodded furiously, “Of course not, Milady. I would never hurt you.” he said, although his eyes told another tale.

Azriel moved back to the bottom of the stairs, viciously eyeing Keir and silently ordering him to do the same, but the male stood still, stiff as a wooden board.

“Milady.” he pressed her again. She merely waved her hand, sending wind towards his direction and making him tumble off the stairs, his fall ending with a loud thud. Everyone in the roomed abruptly stopped, waiting for what was to come next.

“Cheers” she said pointing her glass towards Azriel before sipping the dark beverage.

Turning towards the steward of the Hewn City, she eyed him rather violently, letting her rage show through them in the way Nesta had taught her. When it came to glaring, her sister was a professional.

After having taken another sip, she began to speak, :“We heard some interesting stories lately. I thought it might be something to report back to you, Keir, considering you are in all of them.”

She sent down the bond the image of the male below her, of how he immediately paled, of how his eyes widened almost comically and of how his hands began to shake. A wicked enjoyment ran through her and she could've swore Azriel felt the same.

“I... Milady, I have no idea…” he began to say, but she simply silenced him with her Daemati powers. His hands flew immediately at his neck, as if to protect it from her magic.

“I don't remember giving you permission to talk,” she told him, leaning forward and showing her teeth, “and I don't think you were allowed to stand up.” she continued viciously. Immediately Azriel was behind him, fast as lighting, forcing the older Fae to his knees. He fell down hard, a loud noise of bone breaking echoing in the room.

“Cassian has to pay up.” her mate said through their bond. She sent a wave of confusion back and then came the explanation:“We bet on who would break the first bone.”, he said smugly. “Illyrians.” she simply replied, before shutting him up and moving back to the scene in front of her.

She leaned back on the throne once more, resuming her drinking with a grin plastered on her blood red lips.

“As I was saying, before being such rudely interrupted,”, a harsh look thrown at her and a smirk shot back, lifting her spell, “we wanted you to confirm those stories. Apparently you're not happy with our arrangement?” she asked lifting her free hand, the one with the tattoo that declared her High Lady of the Night Court, and letting it rest dramatically on her chest, above her heart, her face a mark of mocked hurt and confusion.

When Keir didn't reply, she simply reminded him that she had asked a question, although his silence could be taken as an affirmation. “It is also not polite to avoid answering. What are you so afraid of, dear Keir?” her voice saccharine and lethal at the same time.

Slightly panicking now, he began to explain that the situation was different and making up excuse left and right, but Feyre simply raised her hand to shut him up, “It's a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ kind of question, Keir. Don't waste your breaths, Cauldron knows how many more you have left in you!” her veiled treat hitting him in full force.

He shut his mouth immediately, nostrils flaring as he slowly nodded.

Sighing loudly and dramatically swinging an arm over her eyes, she continued, “That’s what I thought you'd say, you dumb fucking horse!”

She could feel Azriel’s amusement and a smile appeared on her lips on its own accord, in her mind almost ruining her facade but probably strengthening her character.

“And tell me, dear Keir, why is that?”

“I do not think...” he began but she interrupted him abruptly, the occasion too good not to be taken, “Yes, we’ve established that quite a number of times now, go on.”. He gave her his own version of ‘if looks could kill’, but quite frankly it looked and felt mostly like he was holding back tears.

With a sudden wave of newfound courage, he straightened his spine and proclaimed loudly:“Me and my Darkbringers should be allowed more frequently into Velaris.”

“Mmmh...”, another sip of wine, “And why is that? Don’t you have the sun and the night sky here as well? You simply have to crawl your way like the worm you are, Keir, to find them waiting for you.”

The Steward froze in place, shame colouring his features as he passed such a great number of shades of pink and red. She took the time to scout the room with her eyes.

She knew that everyone was staring at them, concern written on some faces, pure terror on others. A few held disgust, whether towards her of the poor excuse of a male in front of her she couldn’t tell.

“Do you agree with him?” she asked to the crowd. Murmurs began to fill the room, male soldiers nodding eagerly as the females remained more distant to the topic, dutiful as always. Submissive as always.

That was what truly irritated her of this place, more than the depravity and corruption. The state of borderline slavery the females of this Hellhole were subjected to. The Illyrians were slowly getting around to it, incorporating them into training activities and letting them have more and more control over their own lives, partially because, if the camp lords didn’t behave, her oldest sister would wipe them off the spot completely.

But they weren’t. They kept on mistreating them and using them and it made her stomach turn. To allow them more time in Velaris...

Suddenly, a plan began creating itself in her mind. Curiosity brushed her mental walls, and she let her mate in, cautious and asking for permission.

‘You’re the High Lady, Feyre Darling,’ he purred into her mind, ‘you don’t ask permission to anybody. By all means, do as you please. I will be here, sulking over how I hadn’t thought of this before.”

She couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his answer, scaring even more the already trembling high Faes in front of her.

“Of course you do!” she said, both to the crowd and her mate. Azriel lifted a brow in her direction, a silent question, and she merely sent him the full image of her plan. He nodded once, the corners of his mouth lifting just barely. That was all she needed, before she shot another fiery question to the Faes below her, “Have you brought your females so far?”

Puzzled look replaced the optimistic ones that her previous question had created, and no one dared speaking, not even a murmur this time.

“C’mon” she nuzzled them, encouraging them to reveal themselves as monsters and to give her all the leverage she needed, “I promise I won’t bite.” she said, while barring her teeth and making sure the light reflected from her shiny fangs, sharp enough to easily bite pieces of muscle.

“If nobody answers, then I must assume that the females of this Court have never seen Velaris.” she said while reclining back on her throne, before burying her gaze onto the closest Fae. The young male paled immediately and bowed deeply as she motioned for him to fill her cup once more. “Tell me, how many times have the Darkbringers been to my city?” her voice sounded bored, nonchalant and even, although rage was boiling inside of her veins at her pre-existent knowledge of the answer. Those three days had been the hardest since the war, for her family and the whole city. “Three, milady.” he said quickly, trying to hide poorly the shakiness of his voice as he filled her cup.

“And they have never brought a single female with them?”, again, she knew the answer, but all this was to fortify her show.

The poor Fae simply nodded, before he was dismissed from his positioning and all but sprinted down the obsidian dais, pure primal fear drenching his scent.

Taking a sip of her wine, she turned once again towards Keir, who was still kneeling on the hard ground with Azriel behind him. She smiled at the scene. “I don’t think those were the accords, dear Keir. What did we agree on, Azriel?” she asked to the shadowsinger, who regarded her with something akin pride in his eyes.

“That anyone who wishes to leave the Hewn City for a chosen day, every trimester, can do so freely, except for the Steward, who has to remain to protect the Court.” He finished, the edge on his voice so sharp it could slash a throat in one effortless motion.

“Indeed.” she put down her cup, clasping both hands on her lap, “So, first of all, you knew the amount of time you were given. Quite frankly, if you had something to say, you should’ve done so back then, when we were still negotiating.” She couldn’t help feel like a teacher scolding a small child, stubborn and that still hadn’t fully learnt the meaning of a negotiation. “Me and your High Lord, along with Morrigan, Commander Cassian and Amren, settled down with an agreement with you several months ago, when our duties allowed us to make time for such an important decision.”

Truth to be told, they delayed the meeting for as long as possible, but Keir and his army were growing impatient. Mor suggested one visit a year, not on holidays or festivities, but realistically it was too little: they had indeed held on their end of the bargain by fighting alongside the Illyrians and the other courts in the war against Hybern. Surprisingly enough, it was Cassian who had the most brilliant idea: four times a year, once every three months and Keir only once a year, to ‘keep the fort protected’ he had said with a wicked smile on his lips. Keir had complained and proposed once a month, but Rhys was adamant; two days after the meeting, the Hewn City sent a letter, agreeing to their conditions, and the deed was done.

“With all due respect, Milady, we were not given much choice.” said the Steward in a pleading tone. His leg must’ve been sore and hurting like crazy, but she still wouldn’t let him up, not yet anyway.

Smiling viciously at him, she replied :“Would you rather we retort back to our original idea? Once a year?”. The crowd murmured and nodded their dissent eagerly. “Of course not, Milady. Yours was a generous offer...”

“I was not finished.” she cut him off abruptly, sending cold air in his direction to increase his discomfort, avoiding purposely the spymaster. “Or we could simply terminate the contract right now, since one side isn’t fond of its reward. After all, even with all your help, it was mostly the Illyrian cavalry that helped us win the war before it reached land.” She spoke freely, choosing her words to hurt them most, in their pride. She continued sweetly :“After all, we never specified how long this agreement stood for.”

Delight in the baffled looks that were thrown at her by stunned creatures, she leaned back on her throne and held the cup once more in the clutches, drinking the dark liquid while scanning the room with a predatory gaze.

Keir cleared his throat, once, before whispering :“We do not wish to revise the bargain.” A little was better than nothing, after all.

She had heard him easily, as had every Fae in the room, but she still nudged him to speak a little louder, blaming her former human ears. She knew it drove him mad, truly, knowing that the High Lord of the Night Court had chosen a born human, made High Fae female as his bride, instead of one of the girls that was conceived and raised in that Cauldron Forgotten place with the sole purpose of marrying high up on the social system and play Lady of the House, as Tamlin had once tried to reduce her. It also enraged him to no end knowing that she was his High Lady, meaning that she had full control on him and the Court he supervised.

‘Not bad for a once lowly human, uh?’ her mate asked down the bond. ‘At least he is smart enough not to complain about it much. It would be a burden to train another puppy like you did him.’ came her reply, which was met by a dark chuckle and a soft whisper of love.

After having repeated his statement, much louder than he was comfortable, admitting his defeat, Keir relaxed momentarily, believing that the worst was over. But he was wrong: he was in the eye of the hurricane, the calm before the actual storm.

“Now that one issue is over, let’s go back a little, shall we?”. ‘Poor Keir’ she thought to Azriel, ‘He has probably never been through so many emotions in one sitting’.

The spymaster grinned at her and shook his head a little, his amusement filling her mind.

‘I don’t like that you have another male’s thoughts into your head.’ her mate told her, ‘Territorial Fae Prick.’ came her reply.

‘You wouldn’t have it any other way, darling.’

“You said it before, that your females weren’t with you during those visits. Am I wrong?” she asked, raising her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

“No, Milady.” The older Fae cowered, bowing his head trying to his the tremor of his limbs.

“And didn’t we agree on sending whoever wanted to be in Velaris, without restraints?”

“Yes, Milady.”

“So, what’s up with that? Why didn’t you girls come?” she asked the whole room, now, moving her eyes to the females in question.

“They choose not to, mil...” tried to answer for them Keir.

She blocked his mouth from moving, open on one of the vowels of the title, “I wasn’t referring to you, Keir. Keep that tongue in place or I’ll remove it.” He knew her treats were not empty, so he stopped immediately, fear in his eyes.

Her gaze landed on a female in the middle of the room, busy looking at the ground with a pincher in hand. Probably for the husband she was forced to marry.

She beckoned her to move closer and answer her question; after a moment of uncertainty and a glare from the male next to her, she did. “We all choose not to, milady.” she said while doing an exemplar curtsy.

She felt for her, sorrow and pain at her situation, one the now powerful High Lady could’ve easily been trapped in, were not for her dark prince, coming to the rescue. But, although her emotions were rather soft for this female, her stern mask didn’t come off. “Don’t lie to me. We don’t like liars. Tell her, Keir” and with a soft twirl of her fingers she made the male crumble down on the cold stone, holding his injured leg close to his chest.

The poor female jumped back scared, but stood her position.

“Why don’t you try again. This time, I want the full truth.”

Nodding, she replied, her voice thick with emotion :“We wanted to, but our duties and our families suggested we stayed behind.”

Her face softened and smile became welcoming as she thanked the female. ‘Make sure no harm is done to her for her words.’ she told Azriel, who dissolved in his shadows to follow her order.

“Well, then.” She stood up from her throne, “I will settle this once and for all. No one of you gets more trips to Velaris, the ones already agreed upon are sufficient and enough.”

The room collectively breathed in relief, sighing at the somewhat positive news.

“But...” her smile turned wicked once more and it almost felt like her Winter ice had frozen the crowd, “if I find out that you’re refusing your females from participating to those visits...” her icy glare ran over the shocked faces of the Faes below her, “you will all see our warm invite denied. For eternity.”

And with that, she disappeared into darkness, the room exploding in outraged and scared cries as she winnowed upstairs, on her and her mate’s other residence. Memories of a different lifetime washed over her as she patiently waited for her spymaster to reach her in the designated meeting point, from where they would’ve flown back to Velaris.

A soft stroke of love and pride washed over her. ‘You are amazing.’

She shrugged, ‘You would’ve done the same. Except for my exit. That was pretty amazing’

‘I gotta concede you that, Feyre Darling. But you had a great teacher.’. She could see his annoying smirk, felt that it was plastered on his soft lips.

Her own parted in a genuine smile, such a contrast between her previous mask, quickly discarded. ‘The best when it comes to being dramatic.’

‘You wound me so, my beloved!’

Both sides of the bond remained silent, each other content of their mate’s presence in their minds.

‘When are you coming back home?’ she asked eventually.

‘Tonight. We’ve been apart for too long.’ She felt the hunger in his voice, the longing.

‘Good.’

But it wouldn’t do to end all the fun so suddenly, and so she added :‘Because if you don’t then I might have to ask Azriel to stay in my mind a little bit longer.’

Her laugh resonated all the way to the center of the mountain as her mate’s territorial growl filled her head, before feeling him open his wings and fly high in the sky, towards her as quickly as he could.

[shadowturtlesstuff]

Perfect Christmas

So I wasn’t going to do a Christmas fic because I just don’t like or celebrate Christmas but I have a fandom war on Instagram and it was Christmas themed so I did actually write a fic for it. Enjoy

~~~

It was Christmas again. Another year where Christmas had snuck up on feyre causing more panic than she needed. But at least this year the people she surrounded herself with loved her as much as she loved them.

It had been a long year, Tamlin had ruined her completely and feyre was still taking her time to heal. Her father had passed away, her eldest sister had created such a hated distance between them she didn’t think they could fix it. Not soon at least. At least Elain was happy with her new boyfriend, her soul mate, she claimed. Feyre was happy that both her sister and her friend had found each other. Lucien, even if he hadn’t helped her enough with Tamlin, deserves to live a happy life.

After Mor had found out about how bad Tamlin was treating her, she had stormed to his house and demanded answers. He played dumb which only meant more pain for feyre later when mor left. And when she did she got the worst beating he’d ever given her. He claimed it was out of love, that is taught her not to tell such lies. It left her more broken than ever. She was pale and thin, tired and lethargic. Painting seemed like a task that she couldn’t even think about anymore. Not only did she not paint or draw she didn’t even look and consider how things were made. It was all bare and pointless, just like her life seemed to be.

Yet she say with her new family, watching as they decorated the house. Mor had not only told her cousin, but she told all her friends. She’d met them all beforehand, but when mor and Rhys came back to Tamlin s house another time demanding feyre she couldn’t help but see the world again. Even if it was only a small portion. It had been a struggle to escape, rhysand had to keep Tamlin back as mor dragged her out of the apartment. But they had done it, had kept her away and kept her safe.

They even made her want to paint again.

After four months of them being in her life, she had gained weight, the bruises were gone and she smiled. Rhysand has taken the role of looking after her the most, his job being self employed. He made his own hours that were flexible for feyre as well. Day by day he made her smile. He brought her back. So when she was lucky enough to get him for secret Santa this year she knew what his gift would be.

It was small compared to the rest of the presents under the tree. It seemed that they all loved to buy each other gifts. Sometimes when feyre look at them all together, laughing so freely she still couldn’t believe that she was now apart of this.

Rhysand took a seat next to her, his arm draped over the back of the sofa. “You’re awfully quiet darling.” He states as they both watched mor and Cassain argue about the tree. “Everything all right?” There was such sincerity in his voice that she made her heart ache. Darling was a silly pet name that he called her once to cheer her up. It was one of her worst days, her mind lost in her horrid. Rhysand has somehow snapped her out of it, with a few silly and flirtatious comments. It was ridiculous the effect he seemed to have on her.

“It’s a lot to take in. Last Christmas I was still with him,” him,she couldn’t even stomach his name anymore, “we watched Christmas movies until his friend called and asked us to go to a party. I didn’t want to but he did. So we went, he put me in such a shitty dress that I ruined it as best as I could whisky there.” The night flashed in her eyes. She had bumped into two different people with full cups of alcohol just so that it would settle and she would not be able to get it cleaned. Tamlin had been furious when he saw her state, made her pay him back for the amount the dress costs. It was meant to be a gift, something she would wear on more than one event but she ruined it instantly.

“Now you are here with us. And I know what you see right now is a little hectic,” and to prove his point Cassain had thrown an ornament as a snarky Azriel who made even amren smile at his comment, “but I promise it’s worth it. Christmas for us is special. We’ve all had terrible lives but now, even if it gets tough, we know that we have each other to rely on. Now you do too.” His hand fell onto her shoulder and he traced random patterns there. She smiled as tears threatened to spill. She look at him to find his eyes already on her. His usual smirk replaced with a smile. She loved that smile more than the smirk. It seemed so rare and genuine that it made her feel happy he and mor had risked saving her.

“Thank you Rhysand.” Feyre managed to say as a tear slipped down her cheek. He brushed it away instantly whilst his smile remained.

“Anything for you darling.”

~~~

“Can we open the presents yet!” Cassain asked for the thousandth time.

“No you ungrateful bat.” Amren scowled at him from across the dinner table. Feyre liked amren But was still terrified of her, as it seemed they all were. Except maybe Azriel because they seemed to share a common theme of distancing themselves from the loud mouthed mor and cass. Those two seemed to argue as much as possible. However, it always seemed to end with them laughing or targeting someone else at the table. Somehow they managed to twist it on rhys, making amren fell the story of how he tried to flirt with her when they first met. It had them all in stitches, aside from rhys who seemed to be bent on revenge. He selves into stories of Cassain and Morrigon, not daring to test Amren. Azriel sat in silence with a small smile on his face. He seemed at peace in this chaos and as there eyes met through the story she smiled brightly at him, thankful for his quiet presence.

“Either way I want my present so let’s go.” Mor agreed with cass as they both stood and started walking towards the living room not even waiting for an answer this time. Azriel followed quickly to make sure they didn’t break anything. Amren pulled another bottle of wine out and filled her glass. “Gone crazy yet child.”

Feyre looked up and smiled. “Yes but I think I like it.” She stood next to the woman and realized just how small she was. It made her even more terrified of the fact that even though all the men in the house where taller and more muscular they were still terrified.

“Don’t get to used to us. Soon you’ll be wanting to jump of the nearest bridge. Especially when cass get rhys to join him and mor singing those awful Christmas songs.”

“Guys hurry!” Cass shouted towards the three of them. “Az said no present till were all in the room!”

Feyre saw amren roll her eyes at the childish behavior but she just smiled. “Merry Christmas feyre.” Was all amren said beige she walked away with her very full wine glass.

Rhys took her place as she filled her own glass. “Having fun?”

“Very much.” She dated a glance at him as she passed the wine bottle. “Although I have one question.”

“Which is?” His eyes narrowed as her smirking face.

“Why did you continue to flirt with amren if she quite clearly turned you down? Do you think your truly that good?”

Rhys’s face widened in horror. Only for a second before his usual smirk came back. Gods she was is in trouble now. An idea had formed and she prayed she could out think him.

“Darling you have no idea how good I am. And as for amren, well I don’t think anyone would be able to win her heart.”

“You two get your sorry asses in here! Mor screamed out at them. Rhysand chucked but feyre could do nothing but give a weak smile. He sauntered out of the room with his glass and left feyre standing there.

She joined them in the living, sitting in between rhys and mor. Cass day right next to the tree on the floor and amren and Azriel shared the other sofa. “Your an idiot.” Amren murdered and they all laughed at his pouting face.

“Rhysand should go first seen as it’s his house.” Azriel said as cass reached for his. His head snapped at the words but rhys smirked and stood to get his. It was something she had gotten him. Well not gotten but made. Feyre caught onto Azriel an idea that cass would get his gift last and smiled at him, excuses already forming in case he needed them.

Rhys sat back down and inspected the small box. It was in black wrapping later, with stars all over, his name painted onto. A clear indication as to who was his secret Santa but she didn’t care. He’d know anyway when he saw it. Slowly he opened the gift and his eyes widened as he saw it. He shoved the part on the floor and brought the painting closer. Everyone looked at it in shock as well but feyre only look at rhys with an anxious face. She didn’t know him that well yet so she struggled to get him anything but one day he was making her breakfast and reading her again. She let slip that she used to paint and when he asked why she stopped her breath caught in her throat and she nearly cried again. Being the caring and snarky person he was he managed to make her smile. He told her she could paint him at any point and that nude would be better. She threw her spoon at him but they were both smiling.

Now he sat dumbstruck. She didn’t know what he thought of it. Gods she hated it. At first she thought this would be a good idea but now she didn’t know. Her head was thinking of a million things and her heart was in her throat. Then he looked up. Straight at her. She could see the flickers in his deep violet eyes that gave away nearly every emotion. He gave a soft smile. “Thank you.” Is all he said before he looked back at the portrait of himself. He didn’t read the note yet that she slipped at the back of the painting. He definitely could’ve but she saw him slip it into his pocket as mor took her gift. The note was a thank you, for saving her and for making her see the color and beauty in everything again. For wanting to paint.

Feyre sat back, her heart still pounding but happy nonetheless. He didn’t hate it. He didn’t hate it. She repeated as she tried so hard to clear her head.

Feyre felt Rhysand moved and look slightly to see his focus on her hand. Debating. So she moved her head and opened it for his own. To her amazement he took her hand, sending a warm streak through her. She placed her head on his shoulder as they all opened their gifts. Even through all the shouting and screaming her heart was filled with love. When she opened her present she saw a new sketch pad and paints. At first she looked at rhys but then remembered he brought Azriel. She looked around and found a smiling mor. She matched it as the women hugged her tightly. She was her best friend, her other saviour and held her tightly before letting go. She thanked her profoundly and asked how she knew. Rhysand hadn’t told anyone she used to paint. But mor had managed to find out. When mor spoke to Tamlin the first time in her own she had glanced at the painting displayed in the hallway. Tamlin had made her put it there even if that piece wasn’t her favorite. It was flowers in the night sky, with a silhouetted tree that was on fire. All her sisters in one painting. When nesta has given up on her she hated the painting and how much it reminded her of her sister. It hurt to look at but he wouldn’t take it down. Now she’d love to have that painting back. To have her sister back.

“I expect you to maint me next.” Mor said with a wink. “I am the prettiest so it makes sense.”

“Maybe I’ll paint you all.”

@fang1rling-again @yafa-towers

(Comment if you want to be tagged in my work or message me because I really don’t know who I’m meant to tag. It’s been a while since I posted something 😂)

[ferian-gap]

The Ultimate A Court of Thorns and Roses Playlist

The Ultimate A Court of Thorns and Roses Playlist

Spotify (x)

YouTube (x)

Throne of Glass Playlist (x)

Feyre x Rhys:

A Fine Frenzy - The Beacon

"You say your time has come. You're tired of waking up. Don't be obscene. I can't conceive of living without you. Burning beacon in the night, can't feel it's heat or see its light. That single solitary guide. It must get lonely there sometimes." 

Beth Crowley - Please Take Me

"What do I do if I'm no good for you, but you might be good for me? Why aren't I brave enough to make a move instead of second guessing? My defenses are down. I've lost all resistance, and when you're not touching me, I can feel your distance, so if you're gonna leave, wherever you go, please take me." 

Beth Crowley - Warrior

"You fascinated me, cloaked in shadows and secrecy. The beauty of a broken angel." 

The Civil Wars - Dust to Dust

"You've held your head up. You've fought the fight. You bear the scars. You've done your time. Listen to me: You've been lonely too long. We've been lonely. We've been lonely too long." 

Hozier - Work Song

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth. No grave can hold my body down. I'll crawl home to her." 

Inquillery - Alive

"You bring me back to life. End this darkness inside. You make me feel alive. Eyes lit with star-kissed fire. Your touch taking me higher. You make me feel alive. Again."

Lady Gaga - The Cure

"If I can't find the cure, I'll fix you with my love. No matter what you know, I'll fix you with my love, and if you say you're okay. I'm gonna heal you anyway. Promise I'll always be there. Promise I'll be the cure." 

Laurel - Blue Blood

"Before you came to me, I was in the pretty darkness, praying for the end. You made me feel again. After the last time, didn't think that I could love." 

Ruelle - Carry You 

"I know it hurts. It's hard to breathe sometimes. These nights are long. You've lost the will to fight. You are not alone. I've been here the whole time singing you a song. I will carry you. I will carry you." 

Ruelle - I get to Love You

"Whatever may come, your heart I will choose. Forever I'm yours. Forever 'I do'. And they say love is a journey. I promise that I'll never leave, and when it's too heavy to carry remember this moment with me." 

Ruelle - The Other Side

"Is it fair or is it fate? No one knows. The stars choose their lovers. Save my soul. It hurts just the same, and I can't tear myself away. I don't wanna know what's it like to live without you. Don't wanna know the other side of a world without you. Can't live without you." 

Sleeping At Last - Turning Page

"I've waited a hundred years. I'd wait a million more for you. Nothing prepared me for what the privilege of being yours would do. If I had only felt the warmth within your touch. If I had only seen how you smile when you blush, or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough. Well I would have known what I was living for all along. What I've been living for."

Sleeping At Last - Two

“Like a force to be reckoned with. A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss. I will love you without any strings attached.” 

Tangled - I See The Light

"Now she's here shining in the starlight. Now she's here suddenly I know if she's here it's crystal clear I'm where I'm meant to go. And at last I see the light, and it's like the fog has lifted. And at last I see the light, and it's like the sky is new. And it's warm and real and bright, and the world has somehow shifted. All at once everything is different. Now that I see you.”

Rhys:

Echoes - Gold

"All I feel is emptiness here, searching for what you want me to say. I'm terrified of their eyes when they stare. This loneliness won't go away. Nobody knows who I am. I've got intentions of gold with my plans."

Olafur Arnalds - Old Skin

"Where the woods would wear the wafting sounds of sea, roams an oath in search for something more to be. Still hard for me. Treading lightly, tightly, shedding its old skin. Leaving trails of night for light to bring chagrin while air grows thin. Roaring lungs as oath becomes a flight past trees. Only the rhythm of love escapes the harmonies, leaving us a beat."

Sia - Bird Set Free

"Clipped wings. I was a broken thing. Had a voice, but I could not sing. You would wind me down. I struggled on the ground, so I lost. The line had been crossed. Had a voice, but I could not talk. You held me down, but I fought back loud." 

Feyre:

EVEE - Lone Wolf

"I'm howling at the moon like a lone wolf. I'm tryna move the night ‘til the sun breaks through. Abandon all the fear that surrounds you. The only thing to do. Broke the chains around me, and now I'm running free. Time to make my own way. I can hear voices say, ‘Don't look back.’ “

First Aid Kit - Wolf

"Wolf mother where you been? You look so worn, so thin. Holy light, guard the night of a forgotten land. See it fall, child of war. Lend a mending hand."

Laurel - To The Hills

"I feel it here on my skin like demons. Cry with joy ‘cause I know hell follows me. Out here in the garden of angels, I felt what it was like to be free."

Madilyn Bailey - Survive

“All the way down, finding my way around. Stars and night cover me. Back and forth, searching for my way north. I’m broken down, wandering. Mountains will always need to be climbed, but we only got one foot at a time. Don’t just survive. Don’t just survive.”

Mor: 

Kelly Clarkson - Catch my Breath

“Catch my breath. No one can hold me back—I ain’t got time for that. Catch my breath. Won’t let ‘em get me down. It’s all so simple now.”

Court of Dreams:

Inquillery - The Ones Who Dream

"Hold on. Wait for new dawn. Look up at the stars, wonder who we are, beneath a galaxy of broken things. This world is not what you hoped it could be. Take my hand, here with me stand. We are not carefree, but we're the ones who dream." 

Lauren Aquilina - Way Too Good

"Don't need anything else. I don't wanna cry anymore tears for anything, anything I've wasted. Don't need anyone else ‘cause we got it all as long as we're here, but everything, everything is changing. Everything is way too good. If nothing is meant to last maybe we should drink to that. Cause it's way too good, morning's gonna come so fast. Pour another drink in my glass." 

Feyre x Tamlin:

Eurielle - You Said 

“You said I would swim, never drown. You said I’d never be buried underground. My breath would always breathe in and out. Your love makes me immortal.” 

Kesha - Praying 

"I can make it on my own. I don't need you. I found a strength I've never known. I've been thrown out. I've been burned. When I'm finished, they won't even know your name. You brought the flames, and you put me through hell. I had to learn how to fight for myself, and we both know all the truth I could tell. Let's just say this is 'I wish you farewell.' "

Little Mix - Towers

"I feel loved when I see your face, but all these scars I can't replace. So don't knock on my door and tell me you don't wanna fight ‘cause I've heard it before, and I'm not going back this time. You never brought me flowers, never held me in my darkest hours, and you left it so late that my heart feel nothing. Once we were made like towers. Everything could have been ours, but now my heart feels nothing. Nothing at all." 

Liza Anne - Lost

“I’ll be damned if I do it. Damned if I don’t. I’ll be lost if I love him. Lost if I won’t. My human heart won’t mend itself when my own two hands are ripping out the seams. Oh it seems, I am my own worst enemy.” 

Sara Bareilles - Gravity 

"Cause you're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go, and the one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down." 

Elain: 

Zella Day - Compass

"We can build a tree house in the pine trees. We can keep our secrets buried underneath. Wild flowers crash between your fingers, clinging to the wild things that raised us. Take me to the garden of your ecstasy. Make myself a headband from your fallen leaves. Woven in the fabric of your tapestry. Cover me in honeysuckle memories."

Big thanks to @queensairai @bookobsesed-effy @amren-rhyssecond @astrologically-indecent for recommending some excellent songs to go on this playlist!

[enchantment1385]

INQUISITOR AS A COMPANION

I was tagged by the lovely @ironbullsmissingeye thanks sweetie! 

Inquisitor’s Name: Faeron Tamlin Lavellan & Nico Ashara Lavellan

Race / Class / Specialization: Elf 

Mage/ Rift mage/ Dreamer 

Warrior / Reaver 

Gender Identity: Faeron ~ Male - Nico ~ Female

Varric’s Nickname for them?: Faeron - Dreamy - Nico - Firecracker

Short bio: The twins are the only children of Thalion Lavellan, keeper of their clan. Thalion’s clan has freely traded with humans for sometime. However, after the chantry was destroyed in Kirkwall, tension had been slowly building before the inevitable war spilled out over Thedas, involving them by proxy. It’s decided that the twins should go to look into the situation, gather information, and offer help if it is needed. Faeron and Nico are were both brought up believing in the elven gods, and with a strict set of discipline.  Faeron was gifted with magic early in his life, and is a highly skilled mage, however his abilities as a dreamer have left some in his clan distrustful of a magic they do not fully understand.  Nico was an angry child when she developed no signs of magical talent. Her high stealth and ability to adapt quickly in any situation left her parents encouraging her to take up a bow... However, Nico had little patience and quickly took the sword instead. After many years she is now known as the clan’s strongest warrior.     Where one goes, the other will always follow. So, if you love Faeron, better get used to having Nico around, and vice versa!

Initial Card: The twins first card has the same image for both. The card would be black at the bottom fading into green at the top. There would be one of those trees, (sorry i honestly had no idea how to classify it without the picture! Elfy metal tree from the crossroads or old temples?!?)

in gold, and the twins silhouettes in a purple (Twins clan colour).  

Loyalty: After the twins loyalty mission, depending on the actions taken, the twins will either; Receive their own individual companion cards.  Or  Leave the inquisition for good.  In this case, the image will change slightly, the scene will appear darker, with all the leaves being stripped from the tree, and the branches alit with veilfire. Faeron’s silhouette would be kneeling in distress, while Nico will have her sword drawn with her other hand on her brother’s shoulder. The cards will be grayed out, and unable to be selected.  

Faeron ~ Faeron’s card would show him close-up so you could only see from his torso to his nose, he would be hanging upside down with his legs wrapped around a tree branch with a huge smile on his face. A few strands of his hair would be trailing  up his face and he would be glowing a soft silvery colour.

Nico ~ Nico would be hunched over a map laid out on a table, her sword would also be on the table, covering the far off areas (we don’t get to visit) she would be ever so slightly smirking as she pushed her brother’s face out of the scene.

Romanced: Faeron ~ What is it they say? A picture is worth a 1000 words? Well, this is exactly what his romance card would be- just done in the tarot style!

Nico ~ Nico would be looking over her shoulder, with a bare back except for some material (in purple of course!) gathered around her waist (like she just woke up and sat up in bed),  she would be smiling (YES! It does happen!) as the inquisitors marked hand stroked her hair to one side of the neck. 

Recruitment mission: Double trouble ~ On your return to Haven after your first visit to the storm coast, a cutscene will trigger in which you will meet the twins. If inquisitor is an elf ~ Nico will demand to see her clansmen is ‘safe’ with her own eyes. Faeron will be uncomfortably trying to make the situation less tense and calm his sister’s temper. If inquisitor is any other race ~ The twins will approach the party before reaching the gates, if Cassandra or Blackwall are in the party they will warn the inquisitor to be wary which will trigger a small, somewhat hilarious argument between Nico and said companion, where you can earn friendship points if the inquisitor picks either the heart option or the pleased (thumbs up option). Even if this option is not picked the twins will offer their help in the efforts to fix the hole in the sky.  

Where they would be in Skyhold / Haven: Faeron can be found sat by the fire by Varric in Haven and in the kitchen cooking once you reach skyhold. Nico can be found opposite her brother at Haven and in main hall on a table covered in maps and papers once you reach skyhold.

Personal quests: Twins mission ~ The Halla and the hound War table, ‘We have received word from the twins father, asking for assistance with a local lord who is causing… Trouble’   Advisor Options Leliana ~ I can spare a few of my best scouts. They can move quickly and fully assess the situation. They can also think on their feet if the need arise. Josephine ~ Ah yes. Lord Bran Perrin. He is young and… Disliked by many due to his attitude. Perhaps I can speak with a neighbouring lady I know, who holds a personal grudge? She could threaten a scandal if he does not ‘back off’? Cullen: Sneaking around and noble bickering won’t solve the real problem! Send in a small group to stand guard for a few weeks let this ‘Lord’ 👀 the clan is under inquisition protection! Any action taken against the clan will also be seen as a move against the inquisition and will be treated as such. Whichever action taken you will receive a letter from the lord requesting a meeting. The young arrogant git… I mean lord, offers you a cut of the newly imparted taxes he is now levying and says ‘If they can not provide coin we will have to find more... creative ways of receiving ‘payment.’ The inquisitor can; Side with the twins: Which leads to Nico headbutting the lord and Faeron sending a small lightning bolt shocking the him before the inquisitor forcibly recruits him *Bran can be found shoveling dung at the stables if this option is chosen.  Faeron and Nico both Greatly Approve. Side with Lord Bran: Which ends with Nico telling the inquisitor exactly what he can do with the 💰. Faeron will turn and walk away sadly. Faeron and Nico both Greatly Disapprove This will also have further consequences on returning to Skyhold.   Kill Lord Bran: This option does not have any lasting consequences nor does it offer any boons. Faeron Slightly Approves ~ Nico Approves   The twins personal missions will not trigger unless one is romanced. 

Faeron ~ Chasing the dream(er) If the inquisitor is pursuing a romance with Faeron after a certain point has been met, through banter and mission progression, will appear to become quite withdrawn from the inquisitor and will not be found with Nico, or in his usual spot in skyhold. As such the inquisitor will have to search the grounds and ask the companions if they have seen Faeron. After talking to all the companions and advisers, Faeron can be found in the undercroft sitting alone at the edge overlooking the waterfall, and in some distress. After approaching a cutscene will trigger with Faeron explaining about a mistake made long ago, a mistake that still haunts him (quite literally) to this day, a mistake that almost cost Faeron, Nico and their clan their lives. Faeron was almost killed in this experience and lost control of his magic, killing several men. Faeron still relives the experience in his darkest nightmares, and is terrified that the inquisitor may be drawn into one of these nightmares and think less of him or worse be hurt in the process.  The inquisitor has the choice of - Ending the relationship OR   Kiss Faeron telling him wherever life takes them, it’s now together. 

Nico ~ Loves a Bitch  The inquisitor if pursuing a relationship with Nico has had to sleep with her once before this mission will trigger.  Once the inquisitor has slept with Nico she can be found in the courtyard sparing with Bull. At the end of the sparing the two will briefly flirt.  Nico will appear happy enough but will not bring up the encounter, when asked she will simply reply something along the lines of ‘I assumed that was out of our system, and we simply move on now.’  The inquisitor can leave things as they are OR Can press for more than a one night stand.  If this option is chosen Nico will laugh and say words of ‘love’ are meaningless, if you really want more, you have to best her in combat.  The inquisitor will be forced to ask for help from the others in terms of strategy. (Faeron’s advice is priceless!) One the inquisitor has spoken to all the companions, a rather awesome or hilarious (depending which choice the inquisitor chooses) ‘Battle’ will ensue.  

Approval / Disapproval:

Faeron is pro people, any decision that will benefit an innocent will gain friendship points from him. He is somewhat pro mages but not anti templar. He approves of kind and friendly Inquisitors. Faeron is sweet and flirty. He disapproves of evil inquisitors. Nico is pro inquisition, any decision made that strengthens your army. Recruiting any new companion, gaining resources, or upgrade made on skyhold will gain friendship from her.  Nico is somewhat neutral when it comes to the mages/templars, but does believe in greater freedom for the mages. Nico can be blunt if she dislikes the inquisitor and will appear as somewhat cold until you reach skyhold. She disapproves of evil inquisitors. 

Break down Approval Ratings for Major Missions:

                                  Faeron  ~   Nico If sided with the mages:

-Conscripted mages: Greatly disapproves ~ Disapproves

-Free mages: Greatly Approves ~  Approves

If sided with the Templars:

-Disband the Templars: Disapproves ~ Disapproves

-Ally with the Templars: Slightly Approves ~ Approves

In Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts:

-Celene lives: Greatly Approves ~ Approves

-Celene dies: Greatly Disapproves ~ Disapproves

In Here lies the Abyss

-Grey Wardens join the Inquisition: Approves ~ Greatly Approves

-Grey Wardens banished: Greatly Disapproves ~ Greatly Disapproves

Other (Optional):

-Cole joins:  Approves ~ Slightly Disapproves

-Cole is not allowed to stay: Disapproves ~ Slightly Approves

-Saves the chargers: Greatly Approves ~  Approves -Saves the dreadnought: Greatly Disapproves ~ Disapproves - Drink from the Well: Inquisitor Drinks: Approves ~ Slightly Approves  Romanced Inquisitor Drinks: Slightly Disapproves ~ Approves

Morrigan Drinks: Greatly Disapproves ~  Slightly Disapproves

Are they romanceable? Yes. Both twins are both romanceable by any male inquisitor.  Faeron’s friendship route with a female inquisitor is very much like Dorian’s. Many of the flirt options will still be open.

Can you have sex with them?  Does a bear shit in the woods?  Faeron only if romanced Nico can be a one night stand with no negative consequences or be pursued further into a romance. 

Are they open to polyamory?: Probably not. Faeron is too insecure and Nico is too territorial to share. 

Relationship with the other characters?

                  Faeron   ~     Nico

*Cassandra: Neutral  ~  Friendly  

*Varric: Friendly ~  Neutral

*Solas: Averse/ wary ~ Friendly

*Dorian: Friendly ~ Neutral

*Vivienne: Neutral  ~  Neutral

*Blackwall: Friendly ~  Neutral

*Iron Bull: Friendly ~  Friendly

*Sera: Friendly ~ Averse

*Cole: Friendly ~  Neutral / wary

Others: (optional)

*Leliana: Neutral  ~  Friendly  

*Josephine: Friendly ~  Neutral

*Cullen: Neutral  ~  Friendly  

*Morrigan: Averse ~  Neutral

Side Missions:  Faeron ~ A feast like no other! Faeron is a great cook and has been dying to make use of skyhold’s impressive kitchens since your arrival. And how better than by preparing a feast! However, to make the feast ‘like no other’ you’re going to need to go shopping for some... Odd ingredients. 

Nico ~ Training day There a certain places where one should not tread... At least if you hope to keep all your blood on the inside anyway! Nico has asked to visit some of the more... ‘Perilous’ places to put herself through some serious training! And she’s kindly invited you to come along too... Great.

Special Events: Imprisoned at Redcliffe: How is your Inquisitor holding up in Redcliffe, being slowly infected with red lyrium over the course of a year?

Faeron would be a lot darker than before. Almost as if the darkness inside him he kept locked away with light and laughter, would be breaking through. He would physically shake his head a lot to try and remember himself, and make small quips about how green was never his colour. He would gladly give up his life if it meant saving the inquisitor, and resetting time. 

Nico would just be angry and looking for revenge on those who infected her. A pissed powerhouse of anger. 

At the Winter Palace: Does your Inquisitor enjoy the party, any special events with them at the Palace? Faeron would be enraptured by it all! The pretty-ness of everything. The food and wine! And Dancing OH! He LOVES to dance! His big eyes would be twice the size and shining brightly. He would complain about his suit though, and how daft he feel he looks in it!

Nico would be scheming. Listening, annnnnd probably threatening anyone who mistook her or Faeron as servants. She’d find the whole thing crass.

Both would have a dance scene if romanced. 

In the Fade: Your Inquisitor’s reaction upon entering the Fade? Archdemon’s taunt, and Inquisitor’s response? Epitaph on their grave?

Faeron Upon entering ~ Oh... Balls. And things were going SO well too! Well, apart from the murious wardens thing... and the big dragon..

Archdemon taunt   Shall we let Nicolas out to play Lavellan? He always was much more fun than you. (Evil laugh)   Inquisitor’s response? Alas, you’re not his type. The melting face thing isn’t a good look.

Epitaph on their grave? Faeron died screaming in his sleep.

Nico Upon entering If Faeron is NOT present - I wish Faeron was here... If Faeron is present - This is your stomping ground isn’t it? Gods, you are way more messed up and I realised...    

Archdemon taunt You’ll never be able to protect him forever Nico... Faeron will die, and you will be powerless. Inquisitor’s response? I’d like to see you make those threats again once I smash all your teeth down your throat...

Epitaph on their grave? Nico a weak feeble knifear.    

Other Major Events: Any other major events that happen with them over the course of the main game? Banter: (If Faeron is in a romance with the inquisitor) Nico ~ Faeron, wha… What are you doing? Faeron ~ I think the proper term is ‘Fawning’. *Sighhhhh* Inquisitor ~ What have I told you about being adorable in public, 😍? Faeron ~ *Giggle* Nico ~ I’m going to be 😷… (If Nico is in a romance with the inquisitor) Faeron ~ *Cute noises* Nico ~ Wha-? Heh- What was that noise for?! Faeron ~ I’m just.. I’m so -. You two, It’s just so-.. *snuff snuff* Nico ~ … Faeron? Are… You 😭? Faeron ~ … *Sob*. Nooo…. Maybe. Cole (if present) ~ He is happy. He likes 👀 you both 😁. It makes him 😁 too. Sera (if present) ~ *laughs* You soppy tit! Dorian (if present) ~ Now that is precious. Varric (if present) *chuckling* Come here dreamy! There there. You are way too soft for this 💩. 

Okay... That.. that was a LOT! (Sorry!)  Tagging @heraldofwho @keeperscompanionsdai @dreadhobo @kagetsukai @john-cousland @gugle1980  @dinah-myles @tessa1972 No pressure as always guys!!

[ritamordio19]

The Idea of a Love Triangle in ACOTAR 4.0 vs. Nessian

So I’ve been much more active in the last two days on my Tumblr than I have since like....well, ever, to be honest (considering this is my first post), and I’ve been seeing a lot of mentions of a possible love triangle between Cassian and Nesta/Emerie, which I heavily disagree with, so I wanted to dissect Cassian’s character quite a bit in this post. I won’t touch Nesta’s character since, as much as I love her, I don’t think I could possibly do a better job than rhysand-vs-rowan did on the one reblog I have on my wall (seriously, read that one too; it’s amazing!!).  But Cassian is just as important (and real) to me as Nesta, and I think people don’t realize quite how large his main character trait drives his actions, which is to say: He has to help every female character in distress. And it’s true.  He literally cannot help himself whenever there is a woman in any type of problematic situation, which I factor largely due to how his own mother was treated when he was a young child and the helplessness he felt at that time when he couldn’t stop her from being killed. Now I’m not saying this is a character “flaw” per se-- he certainly does quite extraordinary deeds at times, sometimes at great personal cost, to help out these various women in his life -- but it isn’t really a choice for him and can cause serious emotional exhaustion for him when he’s overburdened (often the case when dealing with the Illyrian camps).  I see a helper’s complex in him where he can’t feel complete or satisfied as long as he knows a woman is burdened, causing emotional drainage until he’s fixed the issue. The reason I bring this up is because people are looking at how Azriel or [especially] Rhysand treat women they love/have romantic interest in and saying “Cassian treats X girl this way too, therefore there might be a love triangle.”  But they’re not comparable situations.  Rhysand --only-- put in the amount of effort he put in with Feyre because she was Feyre.  You do not see him draining himself to the bone to help Nesta now, and you did not see him draining himself to the bone to help Elain earlier either.  At best, he offered them positions in his court, a very low-energy offering, and he left almost all of the grunt work to Cassian, Azriel, and Feyre.  This is not to say he doesn’t -care- about their pain, but he is not the type to go out of his way to help while he’s busy being High Lord.  He is much more of a passive resource, available to help if asked for, which Elain only uses to a small extent and Nesta is incapable of using (as it would require her to ask for help, something she is currently not capable of and possibly/probably does not believe she deserves at the moment, with the amount of trauma she is dealing with). Azriel we have less information on, but he puts exactly zero work into helping Nesta, while putting in a noticeably larger effort with Elain.  And were Morrigan to ever have another traumatic event, it is almost assured that Azriel would be there for her as well. Cassian, on the other hand, has been like this with every woman he has encountered in the story who has been hurt, regardless of [lack of] romantic interest.  He put in emotional work with Feyre during their initial training, and he constantly, CONSTANTLY fights for the rights of Illyrian women to remain unclipped and holds these rights and their rights to be trained as his #1 and #2 priorities when in Illyrian camps during non-war times.  In addition, while he admits doing so due to jealousy and claims he regrets it, I don’t think he truly would reverse his decision to sleep with Morrigan if that decision had come five years ago instead of 500 years ago.  I do strongly believe that, even with age/wisdom/”maturity”, he would’ve risked sacrificing his friendship with Azriel to save her from a life in the Autumn Court with who he believed Eris to be (who Eris truly is?), not having advance knowledge of what her parents would do to her. Yes, he has gone overboard emotionally with Nesta as a result of his interest in her, mainly in terms of their mutual verbal jabbing, but remember this really crucial line, when Cassian realizes she’d been sexually assaulted, from their small story in the back covers of ACOMAF:

“She hadn’t answered him.  ‘Would it change anything if someone had?  Would it make you see me differently, treat me differently?’

‘It’d make me hunt them down and shatter every bone in their body.’ A shiver went down her spine -- not at the fear of him, but at the truth in the promise.  The sincerity. ‘You don’t know me,’ she said.  ‘Why bother?’ Cassian snarled, inching closer, his hand gripping hers -- then paused.  As if the question sunk in.  As if reality sunk in.  He blinked.  ‘I’d do it for anyone.’ She knew he meant it -- and that he would.”

In terms of him acting as the protector/helper figure that he is, he would go to the ends of the earth for anyone.  So the pain he feels at Emerie’s wings being clipped, the anger he feels that the entire village is ignoring her store because a female Illyrian is running it -- that would’ve been the same for any female he encountered. In fact, he demonstrates the same exact internal dialogue/speech with Emerie that he does with literally any female character in the cast other than Nesta.  While he may make comparisons to Nesta, these are still passive thoughts from his first impression of a new face (and daughter of an old friend), and they have no emotional baggage or romantic obsessiveness behind them. I want you to compare this to his attitude towards Nesta, far different than with any other member of the cast.  In their first and second meetings, he has a very low view of her due to her treatment of Feyre and insults her [protecting Feyre], earning a fairly large backlash from her as well.  Importantly, at no point does he see her in any way as vulnerable or burdened until he finds out her past trauma from sexual assault in their second meeting.  He doesn’t know about her starving herself (and by proxy her other sisters) in order to try to force her father to do something and the subsequent guilt she faces.  He doesn’t know about the trauma she faced watching her mother die.  He doesn’t know about Tomas until mid-second meeting.  He doesn’t even know about her loneliness/feeling of madness at being the only one to know the truth in their entire household in the midst of Tamlin’s glimmer on their household.  He doesn’t know how she braved the forest for weeks in order to try to rescue Feyre.  Yet, importantly, he says this in his inner monologue before meeting her the second time to deliver Rhysand’s message:

“Cassian surveyed the estate, the muddy, thawing grounds, the distant village, and looming, budding forest.  He’d left their first encounter not entirely sure where he’d stood, or who’d had the upper hand.  And, Mother damn him, in the past few weeks, he’d found himself turning over every word and look he’d exchanged with her, over and over.

None of it had been pleasant, every syllable from her mouth barbed and vicious, and...Cassian huffed a breath, hot tendrils ripping away in the wind.  He couldn’t tell what was worse: that he’d thought so much about it, or that he’d run here so damn fast.  And was now...dawdling.

The thought sent him into a swift, reckless dive for the green-roofed estate.

Nesta is the only character in the entire series that Cassian feels this way towards.  She is the only character who gets under his skin -- Emerie included. And remember, this started from their first meeting, whereas his meeting with Emerie was the very definition of platonic, even as he felt the need to solve her shop’s financial crisis.  Seriously, could you imagine the following:

He’d had lovers, some for a night and some for months, and Mor had never cared, but...

This woman standing before him like a pillar of steel and flame...Cassian didn’t want to tell Mor about her.  About how he’d touched her neck.

...being said about any other female character in the series, even Emerie?  Cassian would likely help any woman in distress the way he helps Nesta, but would he freak out about them, constantly replaying their conversations in his head?  Would he find himself drawn, time and time again, to any other woman that he views with as much disdain as he did Nesta in their early days?  He literally calls her a bitch at least three times in their second meeting alone, and that’s not counting the large number of other insults he sends her way, whether stated out loud or not, all with full intent.

Conclusion

Now, I will temper my comments to a small degree at the end here, which is that, despite being a huge Nessian shipper, I do think it is possible that they do not end up together despite believing, without a doubt in my mind, that they are mates.  I just do not think that this would ever be due to Cassian’s end, which is what an Emerie love triangle would entail.  

On the other hand, Nesta is dealing with quite heavy emotional trauma post-war, and she is [very understandably] pissed off that literally everyone sees her as Cassian’s.  She is free to do whatever she wants, and she may choose to take her own path as Cassian (and the rest of the Court) reminds her too much of the reasoning for various aspects of her trauma (the Cauldron, the war, her father dying).  And that is absolutely okay -- she has the right to make her own choice, even if it isn’t Cassian, even if the person she chooses isn’t her mate (are you hearing me Feyre about Elain?????).

But I 100,000% believe with my entire heart that Cassian would rather go single another 500 years than ever give his heart to anyone but her. Thanks for reading my way-too-long comments on Cassian.  Let me know if you agree/disagree -- I’d be interested to know why the love triangle theorists believe Emerie to be in play for Cassian’s emotions and am open to having my mind changed.  Until then, I’m straight Nessian trash though~~.

[river-talks-books]

I’m Willing to Try

(Ao3)

This is the first chapter in what I’m planning to more or less be a collection of oneshots about Lucien and Elain getting used to the Night Court and getting used to the idea of being mates. 

I’m Willing to Try

           Lucien looked out the window at where Elain was happily tending her garden. Beside her, Azriel was lounging with his dark wings spread wide to catch the sun. Every time Lucien saw them together he had to intentionally shove away his jealousy, had to remind himself that though Elain was his mate, she was not his, and she could spend her time with whoever she liked.

           And really, he didn’t find remembering that to be terribly difficult. He just wanted to be included in that “whoever.” Ever since he had gotten back from the Spring Court, Lucien had found himself constantly passing by the window, looking out at Elain and thinking that he ought to go sit with her. Say hi. Introduce himself again now that she was feeling better.

           But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was petrified that he would mess it up, or that as soon as she became a light in his life, something would snuff her out, just like everything else he had ever loved. Better to just leave his mateship as a distant, floating thing, a hazy future promise built on potential. Better to live forever with a thread of hope than to try and have that thread cut and burned.

           “You know, standing around and staring at her borders on creep territory.”

           Feyre’s voice made Lucien jump. She was standing behind him, hair in its usual braid over her shoulder, lips twisted in a wry smile.

           He blushed. “I wasn’t staring.” What a stupid response. That was exactly the sort of thing he was afraid of saying in front of Elain.

           Feyre rolled her eyes. They were Nesta’s eyes, not Elain’s, and for that Lucien found himself grateful. It made it easier for him to separate his friend from his mate, made him less likely to do what Feyre said just because she made doe eyes at him.

           The High Lady of the Night Court came over to stand beside him, also looking down at her sister and the spymaster in the garden. “Why don’t you just go down and talk to her?” Feyre asked. “Aren’t you hundreds of years old? An emissary to the High Lords of Prythian? Charmer of scores of women?”

           “It hasn’t been that many,” Lucien muttered, feeling ashamed of having done so now that he had found his mate. It was an unreasonable feeling of shame, he knew, but Elain was so young, so gentle, that sometimes he felt like it wasn’t fair that he had lived so much life before finding her. He wished he could be as new and pure as she was.

           “My point is,” Feyre continued, “That you shouldn’t be afraid to talk to her. Especially Elain, of all people. She doesn’t bite.”

           Lucien looked sideways at his friend. “She stabbed the king of Hybern in the neck.”

           “Okay, well, we all have our moments.” That made Lucien laugh. Then, from down in the garden, Azriel turned his head up and peered at the window, eyes fixed directly on Lucien. He felt his cheeks get hot again. “He is our spymaster,” Feyre said, seeing Lucien’s blush. She grinned. “Wouldn’t be much use if he couldn’t tell when he was being watched.” She waved down at Azriel.

           He smiled, and then, to Lucien’s horror, he turned to Elain and said something, causing her to look up at Lucien as well.

           Their eyes met and Lucien froze, limbs locking. For a moment, Elain seemed startled too, but then, gingerly, she smiled at him and waved her fingers. Nervously, Lucien waved back.

           “You’re either really cute or really pathetic,” Feyre said. “I’ll be honest, I can’t decide which.”

           “If this is your idea of relationship counseling, you’re shit at it,” Lucien retorted. Feyre elbowed him and he shoved her, making both of them laugh.

           Lucien looked out the window again to see that Azriel had vanished. He barely had time to fully register that the spymaster was gone before the door to the room opened and the man himself came in.

           “She’s been waiting for you to talk to her, you know,” Azriel said, straight to the point, leaning against the wall with his wings arched comfortably out to the sides.

           “She has?” Lucien asked, surprised.

           Azriel nodded. Lucien turned and looked out the window, gazing down to where Elain was sitting, still looking up at the window. She smiled and motioned for him to come to her.

           “You’re her mate,” Azriel said. “And she’s a lady. It’s your job to court her.”

           “I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about traditional romance.”

           Azriel laughed. “I don’t. Those are Elain’s words.”

           They talked about him? He supposed that shouldn’t have been all that surprising. The Inner Circle certainly gossiped enough about each other, usually more or less good-naturedly, so it wasn’t much of a stretch to think they chattered about their guests. But what did Elain say about him? What was her perception of him after weeks of awkward hallway passings and dinner table conversations with the Inner Circle present?

           “Azriel’s right,” Feyre said. “Elain is a fine lady. She expects to be pursued, not to do the pursuing. So get your indecisive ass down there and start up a conversation.”

           Lucien’s cheeks were hot. “Can anyone ensure my safety? Or will Nesta storm down like a wraith of death if I so much as put one foot on the same lawn as Elain?”

           Feyre snorted. “I’ll keep an eye on her. I think she’s in Bryaxis’s library anyway, so it’s unlikely we’ll see her this afternoon, if she comes back today at all.” Then she shoved Lucien. “Enough excuses. You’ve been back from the Spring Court for nearly a month. Go talk to your mate.”

           The way Feyre and Azriel were watching him made him feel like a child, but Lucien made his way out of the room and down to the garden nonetheless.

           His thoughts churned as he made his way down the stairs and to the door. What was he going to say? He and Elain had barely talked alone since his return. There had been a brief conversation, washing the blood from their hands after the battle with Hybern, but that talk had been tired, frazzled, and short. He had asked if she was okay, and even though she had said yes, he knew it was only half true. She had said she was looking forward to returning to the Night Court, and she hoped that they could get to know each other once everything settled. And then she had said that she was tired and was going to bed.

           And that had been that. Sometimes he would say something at meals that would make her laugh, making his chest warm, but other than that they had talked little. He still felt like an outsider here, like a visitor, and he often made a point to be out in Velaris as much as possible, sometimes sleeping in the House of Wind just to give them all space. The only person he actually felt like he could talk to was Feyre, but she was busy, and popular, and Lucien wasn’t certain how he was supposed to strike up a conversation with the mate he barely knew when he could hardly bother one of his best friends for conversation. He was, all things considered, a total disaster.

           He stepped outside. The air was warm, but it felt different than it had in the Spring Court. In Tamlin’s realm, warm air had a heaviness to it, thick with pollen and the smell of flowers and the humidity of inclement rain. Here, the seaside air was clear and light. Pleasant. The sun brought out the full spectrum of color in Elain’s garden, making the landscape vibrant with pinks and whites and yellows. How strange it was, that the sun might be so prominent in the Night Court.

           Elain was around the corner from the door. As Lucien rounded the buttress that concealed her, she turned to him, and his heart stuttered. She always looked radiant, and every time he saw her was like watching the first flower of spring bloom. Of course, living in the Spring Court had long since robbed that event of its wonder, but with Elain it was like things were new again.

           She smiled. “So you finally got up the courage to come down.”

           Lucien blushed. He felt like a schoolchild again, when females were a mystery and every conversation felt like a string of clumsily attached mistakes. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

           She laughed, and it was like the very light of the sun was singing. “You consider yourself so irksome?” she teased.

           “Well, and I feared your sister,” he admitted. “Her retribution was sure to be more terrifying than even that of Hybern.”

           That made Elain laugh again. “Nesta? She only seeks to protect me. But she will listen if I tell her she needn’t worry.”

           Lucien raised one eyebrow. “Really? She would leave me alone just like that?”

           “Well, perhaps not leave you alone entirely,” Elain admitted. “But she was the same way with…with Grayson.” She tripped over his name. “Until she realized that his intentions were true and his prospects were stable. Then she relented, as long as I assured her that I was happy and safe.”

           “Unfortunately, I don’t know if my prospects could be deemed particularly stable,” Lucien said, then internally kicked himself for making such a bitter joke.

           “What do you mean?” Elain asked, cocking her head in a way that shook a few strands of honey-brown hair loose from her gardening hat. “You’ve got a place here in Night Court with us.”

           Something in Lucien stuttered at that. Had she assumed that he would be here with her? Was that what she wanted?

“You’re right, of course,” he said, saving his true feelings on the matter for when they were—if they were—in closer confidence with one another. “It’s just all very new. It still feels unstable to me.”

           Elain smiled. “So imagine how it must feel for me and Nesta. At least you have always been fae.”

           “I suppose that’s true,” Lucien conceded. However, it seemed to him that Feyre had integrated seamlessly into the Night Court, and with that so too had her sisters. It was possibly because, unlike Lucien, they had no past history with the members of Rhysand’s Inner Circle. But for Lucien…it was odd. Odd for him to have to get to know them anew. Odd for them to have to get to know him anew. The Inner Circle had known each other for hundreds of years, years when Lucien had only known them as demons and nightmares. Feyre had done a great deal to make sure he was treated well, and never for a minute had he felt that she didn’t want him around, but it wasn’t enough to make Lucien believe he was truly welcome here the way she was, the way her sisters were. He knew that one day he was going to have to leave.

           Elain shifted her weight and patted a patch of grass beside her. “Come, sit,” she said.

           Hesitantly, Lucien did. He looked over her shoulder at the cluster of pink and white blooms she was fluffing. “What are you planting?” he asked.

           “Flowers,” she replied coyly.

           Lucien went to roll his eyes and then caught himself. “A fair response, my lady. How silly of me to ask.”

           That sent Elain giggling again. Lucien was glad to see her laughing after spending all of those weeks watching her wander, hollow-eyed, through the corridors of the House of Wind. “They’re gladiolus flowers,” Elain said, smiling fondly at them. “They don’t like the cold, you know. So you have to wait until winter has fully passed before planting them.” Her fingers trailed slowly over the petals. “In the human world, they wouldn’t have bloomed yet. They would just be little bulbs, and it would be another couple of months before their colors came out to play. But they are just like everything else here. Almost the same, but…but just different enough.” Elain snapped her hand down as though to wake herself. “I apologize,” she said softly. “I began to ramble.”

           “No need to apologize,” Lucien said. “I’m happy to listen to you talk.”

           “That’s good. In fact, I wondered if I might not be telling you things you already knew. After all, having lived in the Spring Court for so many years, I thought it possible that you knew everything there was to know about flowers.”

           If someone had told Lucien back when he had arrived on Tamlin’s doorstep that he would one day meet his mate, and she would love flowers as much as most males loved liquor and sex, he certainly would have spent those Spring Court years devoted to learning every species in the manor’s vast gardens. As it was, he had never actually had any particular motivation to learn what flowers grew in Tamlin’s garden, and he could tell Elain almost nothing about them.

           He struggled to come up with an explanation, but when Elain looked at him, her eyes were bright with amusement. “Or perhaps not,” she said wryly. “As you are, after all, still a male.”

           “That doesn’t exclude me from an interest in flowers.”

           “It doesn’t,” Elain agreed. “But I knew it meant it was less likely.”

           “If ever the Night Court’s relations with the Spring Court improve, I will take you there in a heartbeat,” Lucien promised. Then he realized that he was making assumptions, and he hurried to correct himself. “Or, ah, I will arrange a trip for you with the company of your choosing.”

           Elain smiled. “I would like that,” she said. “And I don’t see any reason yet why you wouldn’t be among my company of choosing.”

           Lucien felt like a weight lifted slightly from his chest. He tried not to let himself feel too hopeful, but it sounded like she was considering giving him a chance.

           A comfortable silence settled in. Elain trimmed and tended her gladiolas as Lucien watched, trying to come up with the right thing to say. Then, Elain sighed and set down her small set of shears. “Lucien, I must admit—I don’t really understand mateship. I don’t understand why it exists, and I don’t know why it was thrust upon me so soon after my world had already been completely shattered.”

           The weight that had begun to lift suddenly crashed back onto Lucien’s heart, more painful than before. Of course Elain was not interested in a mate right now. How could she be? He had already known. This was simply confirmation.

           “But after getting to know the other fae of the Night Court, and after seeing the way Feyre is with her mate, and the way Feyre is with you…” Elain paused, and Lucien waited, hardly breathing. “I am not ready to be seriously romantically involved right now. It is still too soon for me, too soon after Graysen, too soon after becoming fae. But…I do like you, Lucien. You do not seem like you are going to jump me and ravish me in my garden.”

           That surprised Lucien. His lips twitched with amusement. “Did you think I was going to?”

           Elain blushed, not the faint pink of a lady as it had been before, but a deep, chagrinned scarlet. “Well…I mean, you certainly didn’t seem…but I heard little snippets of mates, and what they’re like, and you must understand that I simply didn’t know—”

           Lucien laughed, cutting her off. “Elain, I am not offended. But rest assured, I would do no such thing. You are safe with me.”

           “That’s what Feyre said,” Elain admitted.

           “You asked her?”

           Elain busied herself with arranging some of the plant stems so that her face was hidden. “Well, not directly if I should be worried about that, of course. What I asked her was why you kept away. When you were keeping your distance, I didn’t know if perhaps that was better. I thought maybe Nesta was right, and it was better we be kept apart. What did I know? I had locked myself away while she got to know everyone. I thought maybe she had some knowledge that I did not.”

           She certainly had some very definitive misconceptions.

           “But Feyre said very kind things, you know,” Elain continued. “She said that you were trying to respect my space, but that you were normally very personable. I think she’s rooting for you.”

           Lucien made a mental note to ask Feyre about all of the kind things she had said later. “I am grateful she is trying to counter Nesta.”

           “They have always been opposites,” Elain said. “But, Lucien, what I mean to say with all of this is that I may not understand what it means to be mates with someone. I may not understand what it is like to be a fae that has had three, four, five hundred years of life experience. And I may not know you very well at all yet. But when I see how happy Feyre and Rhysand are, I think, how could I deny myself a chance at that kind of joy?

           “I cannot promise romance right now. But I also see no reason that we should not spend this time getting to know each other.” She turned from her flowers to look him in the eye. “If there is even a chance that this might turn into something, well…I’m willing to try.”

           Lucien felt like his heart was pounding too loud, and that every beat shattered his thoughts, driving them apart before he could find something coherent to say. This was…good. In fact, it was more than he could have hoped for. Lucien studied his mate’s soft, lovely face and thought about how different they were. Perhaps his fear of messing up his mateship had been dooming it before it began. Where he had seen chance and shied away from it, afraid to break it, she saw the chance and sought to foster it. Really, it was just like her. The gardener. The one who tended and cultivated. Of course she would see a seed of possibility and seek to grow it.

           Unfortunately, Lucien had never really had a green thumb. But he could learn. If his mate was willing to try, then so was he.

           “As am I,” he said, and he and Elain smiled at one another.

           Then he heard a rattle against the pavement beyond the front of the house. Elain fixed her eyes over his shoulder. “That’s Nesta’s carriage returning,” Elain said. “You best go. Let me talk to her, or she’ll come over here and flay you alive before I get the chance.”

           Lucien stood. “Then I will take my leave. Perhaps we could have tea together later in the week?”

           “I would like that,” Elain said. Lucien gave a bowed to her, making her giggle again, and headed inside. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Azriel emerge from the shadow of a nearby tree and settle in next to Elain again. He had been watching them. Of course he had.

           But in that moment, Lucien did not mind. With possibility shining before him, he felt like he was glowing inside and out.

[drabblesfromthemoon]

Serene

Serene

Chapter 1

Sighs of Mystery

Disclaimer: I don't own A Court of Thorn and Roses and all characters in the series. All of the characters and dialogues are the property of Sarah J Maas, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Spring Court – After the Chaos

Spring breeze in the Spring Court is always has been – inviting. Inviting any Fae to stop by, sitting on the green, soft grass and enjoy the smell of roses. To bring lovers after their long fight, in a hope that they will reconcile after listening to the sound of birds chirping. Or for the adventurers who happens to pass by, to pick some Calla Lily for their beloved. Not even Amarantha's wrath years ago could stop nature to keep flourishing the land with flowing, lovely abundance.

The visitors in Spring Court has been increasing day by day as their High Lord Tamlin reduced his Tithe offerings amount. The mountains of jewelry he had collected through brute force has turned to many tourist attractions. To make people enjoy their days in the Court. The forced collecting soon gone as the villagers trusts their High Lord more and more and offer their Tithe with all their hearts.

Spring Court still never boasts any city, unlike the Nights' Velaris. But there are many amounts of little village spread here and there. People lived relying on farming and planting flowers to trade the goods to other Courts. Winter Court, for example, would die for Spring's flowers to add some color in their crystal realm.

Months, years had gone after the War, some villagers tried to move on from the gruesome tragedy which befallen the lands over and over. Some still being forced to be awake by nightmares, but Spring's realm was so peaceful, the birds' singing and the smell of flowers quickly beckoned them back to their sleep. Ensuring that this – this peace – is real.

The Land of Flowers has found their calm.

But little did they know – not even His Majesty Tamlin himself – that across the mighty castle, almost in Day Court territory, hidden in the lush forest, lies a mystery.

Spring Court Mansion Library

Tamlin sat on the high stool, flipping through books in the Inner Library. He was desperate to find some information about cross-breeding flowers method that he saw long time ago. Damn that Winter Court High Lord, challenging him to make another flowers creation. Never enough variation for those fools, he thought. The golden haired man wanted to find the information to pass it to his engineers, so his people can play with it later on.

It's been ages since he last proceed with his education on how to rule a land. But as he walked through his realm, seeing difficult his people lives is, he ended up cares. He called every scholar to taught him what happened beyond his lands and what can he do to fix it.

He lost many things, already. All he has is time, endless time, to redeem himself.

Years after the war, Tamlin had found himself growing tired. Tired of the chase and finally learnt to accept. Accept that she was not for him right from the start. Their relationship was bound to fail no matter how hard he tried. Accept how unfair it was, the mating bound. Pairing two souls which never knew each other to become one. Nothing will come between the pair, ever.

He groaned.

Once in awhile, the High Lord would take a glance to his table. The object was a place of many books he'd found, but he was looking at a tiny piece of paper which he pressed to become is favorite bookmark.

"I hope you find happiness too." It says.

His eyes will wandered, then. To the first day when his dear lover came to the mansion, her deviant eyes toward him and his entire Court. Her cheerful reply when he asked her hand for marriage...

And it stopped there – only at the happy parts, just how he loved to remember her – until he found himself back to his search.

"Your Majesty," a woman's voice came to his senses.

"The dinner is ready," she continued, bowing.

"Later," he replied, clearly uninterested.

The maid dismissed herself with a sigh and one last bow and went back to the kitchen. There, many maids has gathered, waiting for their friend to bring the news.

"How is it?" asked the red headed one while swarming their returned friend. Her question answered with a gentle shook of her head and yet another sigh.

"Maybe we should just stop making dinner," she fumed, "he never eat any of it!"

"His Majesty hardly ever eat anything these days," said another, "all he did was work."

"That and staring at a piece of useless paper...," one of the maid said, which soon had her lips covered.

"Holy Cauldron! Shut your lousy mouth!" one of them exclaimed. It was a maid that offered a dinner to Tamlin,"If His Majesty hear we will all be in trouble!"

The rest of the maid exchanged glances and slowly sighed as they go back to their work. There's nothing they can do except accepting the fact that their master has lost his spark. Not that they're complaining, because the times when the human lady left the palace, his 'spark' was too much as he wrecked everything on sight.

His temper soon declined after the war.

The High Lord suddenly ordered to reduce the Tithe and start rebuilding his realm. He would spend his days outside, surveying the areas for nights after nights and came back only to dwell in the library. Sometimes, he went to the tower and howls will soon be heard. The agonizing howl which trying to call his lover back.

At that time, the entire workers in the Court knew. That even the most fierce beast can have his heart broken.

Soft creaks heard echoing across the West Wing – Tamlin's Chamber. The poor man tossed and turned, letting out growls as he did. His face contorted in agony, fighting whatever it was running in his mind tonight. Last night was when he witness Feyre's battle with the Middengard Wyrm, another was her authoritative voice of hers during the war. It's all the despair about her that he refused to think at day came to hunt him at night.

He bolted up from his bed, cold sweat covered his body as he snatch his robe and walked into the balcony. He bit back a growl as if holding himself back not to howl. To call for her, beckon whatever feelings left in her to come back to him and soothe his entire being.

She would never come back, fool.

The High Lord let his eyes look up to the sky, to the bright Fullmoon. He let himself relaxed at every caress of the light touched him. He was closing his eyes in attempt to go back to sleep at the bench in the balcony until a loud noise came from outside of his room.

He tilted his head as he walked outside, only to find his maid trying to pick up the mess she dropped. Broken plate and glass scattered along with a thick piece of meat, and purple liquid which smells like wine. Probably the dinner he had left earlier.

"I'm sorry, Sire. I didn't meant to..."

"Clean up and leave," he retorted, walking back to his room.

"Y-Your Majesty!" she mildly shouted to him which earned her a glare, a very adorable glare, she must say, with that bedhead and sleepy eyes. He quietly moved to face her, almost daring her to talk with that same tone she used earlier.

"I'm sorry but.. there's something I wished to tell you.. your nightmare..."

"It's none of your business," he growled audibly, "leave."

"I know how to make it stop, Sire!" she shouted, forcing the words out of her throat. Tamlin had really tried to be kind to his people, but his cold demeanor still there. One wrong move and you will receive his roar. She wouldn't want to test him. Not at all. Not when her family all depend on her for food and shelter.

The High Lord eyed his maid as if trying to reason with himself. Inhale, exhale. Remember the anger management lesson, Tamlin, he thought. But a little Fae girl telling him that she knows how to control what he can't with all his power...

The girl gulped as she handed him a folded piece of paper.

"There's... a tale among my tribe, Sire. About a place, a little pond inside the Dark Wood which holds a power, a true power... to retrieve what was lost," she explained as he opened the paper. Inside it was a map of where the Dark Wood is.

He scoffed.

"It's a myth. A myth to send poor lazy men to the Dark Wood and die," he said, "and the last time I retrieve something, I did unforgivable things. I have no need of this."

"I wouldn't lie to you, Sire," she replied, "please, please, just try to find it. Dark Wood isn't dangerous for a High Lord as you are. There's nothing to lose."

"Near the pond was a silver tree, a tree which only could be seen by those who truly needs it. Many has fallen, My Lord. For it was greed that calls for them, not humble wishes. The force refuse lust, greed and anger, and it will twist every path in the woods and let them those who unworthy lost in darkness, eaten by the beasts."

"I'll think about it," he said as he walked back to his chamber.

"But it has to be tonight, My Lord!" she exclaimed, earning another annoyed glare, "the Silver Tree only glows in Fullmoon, it will be harder to find it otherwise."

An old tree glowed dimly on the vast land, seemed ready to collapse at any minute. The thin branches ready to crack if the wind blew too hard. That poor tree stood alone in the mountain woods, away from any lands in the Spring Court. Rusty stone paths led the way from forest ground, across the crystal water to the elder tree. By the time the moon lit, graced the lands, fresh cold wind sweeps across the holy soil, causing the little branches to dance.

Each second the moon glows stronger, so is the tree roots. Its feet reach further and stronger to sustain the other transformation which awaits. The trunk grows thicker, higher, releasing the power hidden within. Little branches sway, slowly expanding its coverage, releasing more and more branches follows, until hundreds of it scratching the skies. When the final stage of moon ensue, silver leaves burst forth filling the branches. The vulnerable tree turns into the Silver Ancient Tree.

As it waits. Waits for those who it deemed worthy.

[cleopatraas]

if chiara had lived and became High Lady. would she have been Under the Mountain to protect her brothers + Mor and Amren?

“There are no High Ladies”

“Someone has been looking for you for a very long time,” The female whispered in her ear. She tilted her head up, raising her eyebrows at the males. “Thank you for finding her for me. You can go” The Fae snarled, a devil worthy smile springing across her face. 

Feyre had never seen males run faster. “You- You...thank you” Feyre swallowed. The High Fae spun around, grabbing her wrist. She pressed Feyre’s wrist against her nose and her eyes widened just a fraction. 

“You could have gotten yourself killed. Go home,” She said flatly. Feyre wasn’t sure if she meant the Spring Court or her actual home, a worn down cabin. “Who are you?” Feyre asked as the girl slowly began to walk away. She spun around and spread her arms a bit. 

“Your Savior,” She winked before disappearing. Lucien was running towards her in the next moment, Feyre didn’t have time to compute what she said. 

xXxXx

“Ever Amarantha’s whore, Chiara,” Lucien said cooly, pressing Feyre tighter between the wall and his back. Feyre wheezed gently as Chiara walked into sight. Her dress traveled behind her, both her thighs bare. Her dress dipped down her chest and a pendant rested against her skin. 

Feyre saw the female who had saved her on Calamnai. She gasped and covered her mouth tightly. 

She gave a cool smile, walking closer. Tamlin froze at the table and Feyre gripped onto Lucien without even thinking about. “That is what they say these days. Is that a human I smell?” Chiara rose an eyebrow slowly and she tilted her head to the side. 

“She’s my betrothed,” Lucien lied smoothly. 

“Moved on so quickly, Lucien? Who have guessed,” Chiara laughed, her throat bobbing. Feyre winced. 

“Get out,” Lucien said tightly. “You have no right here”

“We both know that’s a lie.” There was a soft laugh on her tongue. And Feyre couldn’t help but observe how beautiful she was. Her bronze skin seemed to sparkle under her black dress, her hair pinned on top of her head, showcasing her neck. Bold. “I belong here more than you” 

Her hand snapped out and Lucien went sliding across the room, the glamour falling from Feyre. Lucien grunted as his back hit the wall. Feyre grabbed the curtain tightly and she pressed herself tightly against the hard surface behind her. “Leave her alone, Chiara” Tamlin finally spoke up. 

She was already inside her mind. Feyre felt as if a thousand pins were poking at her brain and she nearly screamed. No one should have that kind of power. The poking ceased and Chiara grinned, her red lips pulling back. “Such wicked fantasizes you have. Maybe I should tell Tam-Tam how much you dream of him at night. How much you whisper his name and how much you fantasize him whispering your name in between those sweet thighs of yours”

“That’s enough,” Tamlin said tightly. Feyre flushed and she hugged herself, feeling suddenly cold. 

“You’re running out of time, Tamlin,” Chiara swallowed and she licked her bottom lip gently. “Tick, tock, tick, tock,” She mocked the High Lord before disappearing 

xXxXx

“You’re a bi-”

“Ta ta ta, us women have to stick together,” Chiara smiled cruelly. Feyre groaned and she held her arm, panting harshly. Sweat trickled down her face and her neck, her breathing growing shallower and shallower. “You should really get that checked out”

Chiara laughed and she stood up in Feyre’s cell. She pushed her red dress behind her, walking around. The dress was really only a few strips of fabrics. Feyre avoided her gaze quickly. 

“All this for Tamlin?” Chiara whispered. Feyre gulped and she spat at the High Lady. No High Ladies. She wanted to slap Tamlin for the lie. Why would he lie? “Interesting. You really do love him”

“Sorry it’s not something you can comprehend” 

In a moment the High Lady was towering over her. Chiara yanked her arm and Feyre screamed in pain. Chiara dug her thumb into the large gap in her arm, flicking the bone a few times. Feyre vomited, wanting to pass out from pain.  

“Looks like you won’t be around long enough to love him,” Chiara winked. She let go of Feyre’s arm and rubbed her blood in between her fingers. “Beg me Feyre Darling. Beg me to save your life”

Feyre opened her mouth and Chiara tilted her head back and she chuckled. “Begging is not attractive. One week out of every month you come to the Night Court. Experience true nightmares,” Chiara grinned, her white teeth blazing. 

“Fine, whatever” Feyre choked out. Chiara kissed Feyre’s cheek and grabbed her arm gently. Her arm began to feel better but it felt like thousands of bee stings at the same time. Feyre groaned and she watched a mark grow. “Branding me? Doesn’t seem your style”“Oh this is not my mark,” Chiara clicked her tongue before Feyre passed out in her dank cell

xXxXx

“You two puppies just can’t keep your hands off each other,” Chiara shoved Tamlin away. The High Lord cringed and looked away from Feyre. Feyre whimpered and Chiara waved her hand, fixing the paint on her body. 

“Get out of here, Tamlin” She said tightly, not looking back at him. “And fix your belt” Chiara looked away as Tamlin stuffed his shirt in his pants, fastening his belt quickly before leaving. 

“Hold your breath,” Chiara warned. Feyre’s eyes widened and she tried to shove Chiara away but the female’s lips were already on her own. Feyre’s eyes widened and she gripped the back of Chiara’s silver dress. Feyre jumped when her fingers met Chiara’s bare back.

Chiara grinned and she tugged Feyre’s hair, kissing her deeper. Chiara grabbed her face gently and pulled Feyre closer, purposely messing with the paint on her body, getting it on her own dress. 

Amarantha walked in five seconds later and Chiara slowly pulled away from Feyre. Feyre gulped down air and she stared wide eyed at the High Lady of the Night Court. 

Chiara wiped Feyre’s lip slowly and Feyre choked down a gulp. Chiara laughed and she walked over to Amarantha, forcing herself to link arms with the queen. “Don’t look so down, Amarantha. I enjoy new company sometimes” 

Chiara forced a smile onto her face and she kissed Amarantha slowly. Feyre adverted her eyes and she pressed her hands against her stomach, trying to hold back her vomiting. 

Chiara left with Amarantha, but she turned around. She winked at Feyre and her cheeks flushed a bright red. The eye on her palm began to burn and Feyre touched her lips, smiling. 

xXxXx

“She broke the riddle,” Chiara walked through the crowd. The Fae jumped away from her as if she were the Plague and she bit her tongue. “Let us go, Amarantha” 

Amarantha gave a cruel smile and she turned to Feyre. “No!” Chiara screamed. She jumped forward but Feyre was already screaming and Chiara heard the first break of her spine. Gods, no. Her eyes widened and she rushed forward, but Amarantha’s magic grabbed her tightly. 

“It’s not as if you love her, Chiara. I thought you’d be happy to get her out of the way” Chiara began to grind her teeth and she snarled at the Queen. Tamlin struggled against her magic as well and their eyes connected. 

Tamlin looked away first. 

“Let her go. Let them all go. You can keep me” 

“Not enough,” Amarantha grinned coldly, but she let Chiara go. Chiara glared and she looked at Feyre. She watched as the human spasmed and she tried to reign in her face, keeping a neutral expression. But her hands were still coated in blood. The blood of innocents. 

Chiara could only imagine Cassian. The way he would always find her and know it was okay to throw up in her presence. The way Azriel would always curl in on himself when he remembered what her father had done to him. The way Rhys tried to be stronger than she was, because he didn’t want his little sister to suffer. 

She would suffer tenfold to keep them safe in Velaris. 

“Feyre,” Chiara whispered. Chiara crawled slowly and she lied down, grabbing Feyre’s hand. She looked up and saw Amarantha grinning cooly. She would be trapped down here forever. Chiara looked back at Feyre and she closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Rhys”

There was a flicker. A flicker down a bond she hadn’t felt in fifty years. 

That was what caused her to finally fight back. 

Chiara spun around and she threw the entire might of her magic at Amarantha. The Queen went soaring through the air. Chiara grunted, waves and waves of darkness pouring out of her very essence. Her back arched forward and she saw Tamlin’s beast fly through the air. 

She was reminded of implied, sweeter, happier times. 

A heart of stone, indeed. 

Chiara blocked the thought out of her mind and she turned away as Tamlin finished Amarantha off. Chiara swallowed and she looked back up, watching Tamlin walk towards her. “Tamlin-” 

The High Lord of the Spring Court side-stepped her and Chiara shuddered. Tamlin fell to his knees next to Feyre and he scooped her up slowly, brushing her hair. Chiara held her breath for a moment. 

She turned around and saw Lucien sliding down his fox mask. She had forgotten what his face looked like. The scar stood against his replacement eye and Chiara forced herself to look away. Tears slipped down his cheeks. Chiara squared her shoulders and she walked towards Feyre. 

She knelt down beside Tamlin, ignoring the green eyes that used to see through her, that could see her, really see her. But now she was High Lady, Amarantha’s Whore, most feared Fae in all of Prythian, and he was in love with her brother’s mate. 

Chiara pressed her hand against Feyre’s chest and she bit her lip gently. “Remember our deal,” Chiara whispered barely audibly. She slowly stood up and fixed her golden dress. She glared long and hard at the High Lords until their magic was flowing through Feyre. 

Feyre’s eyes fluttered open and Chiara gave her a painful smile. “Thank you, Feyre Cursebreaker”

Chiara was slipping through the crowd before Feyre or god forbid Tamlin could say something. She ran through Under the Mountain until she reached her chambers. The High Lady fell to her knees and started to vomit, gripping the floor. Her wings shot out from her back and she screamed, arching. 

Her roars shook her room, but she continued to roar louder and louder until her voice cracked. 

Tears streamed down her face and she curled in on herself, her wings comforting her. She was free. She was finally free. She could fly, fly far away. But even if she was free from this mountain, she had to go back to the Court of Nightmares. 

She had to go back knowing she had lost everything. 

But had saved everything for everyone else. 

xXxXx

Hope you enjoyed that! Leave your thoughts please