#heir of amber and fire

[thebonnevillegamepodcast]

Happy Monday! We want to start off our week on a good foot by sharing what books Minty would recommend.

This includes one of the novels by her voice actor, Rachanee Lumayno!

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: The background is dark woods with greens, purples, and blacks. In green font, it says "Minty's Book Recommendations" with a skull and cross bones in a pink heart next to it. Minty's headshot is off to the right with 5 star rating above her head. There are four boxes with the titles of four different books and their covers. They are Meesh the Bad Demon by Michelle Lam, The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones, Heir of Amber and Fire by Rachanee Lumayno, and Yellowface by R.F. Kuang.

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll, and after a LOT of voting, I present you this :) BIG thanks to @that-multi-fandom-hijabi for beta reading this go follow her writing acc rn (@novaaaaaa-writes). Here's my masterlist!

Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of burning, stabbing, blood, bad descriptions of both fire of water (ice, snow ?) bending, Zuko is whipped, just a little confused about it, reader is a baddie, water benders unite (not me tho), reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind, reader looks non-threatening, is underestimated a lot, this takes place at the end of season one, I think that's it

Pairing: Prince Zuko x GN!Reader

•──•°•❀•°•─── ʜɪꜱ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀʙᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ───•°•☁︎•°•───•

“You shouldn’t be here” you glare, your gaze sending shivers down his spine. 

But that could just be because of all the snow and ice surrounding the both of you. 

The fire prince remains unfazed though, his amber eyes sweeping over your form- assessing the threat you posed. 

He could take you down in seconds. 

Zuko doesn’t respond to your jab though, because he knew you were wrong. He had to be here, it was the only way he could finally receive his father’s favor- as the heir and as the son of Firelord Ozai. It was his duty, his honor. 

And he wasn’t going to let a non-threatening waterbender get in the way of that. 

Reaching back, he unsheathes his dual swords, the glint of the waning moonlight reflecting the dangerous glint in his eye. 

And yet you didn’t back down.  

Pooling some water from your waterskin, you assumed the stance you had trained yourself to take whenever you honed your skills. One with the water, one with the ice.  

‘Power should flow, not force itself” Master Pakku had told you once.  

People had always underestimated your skills, saying you were better suited for healing. But after showing Master Pakku how you could use your bending to control the falling snow around you, he gave you a chance.  

He had told you to let the power settle in your body before releasing, instead of forcing it out immediately. Conceal and then control. 

You met Zuko’s fiery gaze with an icy one of your own. You were going to protect your home.  

With a yell, you form flurries of snow, whipping around your form as you channel your strength to change the form of your flurry, snow turning to water, water turning to sharp daggers of pure ice.  

Zuko scowls, setting his hands ablaze and you run at each other, fire meeting ice.  

Time slows down, as the intensity of your elements picks up, until all you could hear was the steady thump – thump – thump – of your heart, and the roar of crystalline knives swirling around you. 

Flames lick the side of your leg, wincing as the raw burn of the fire sears through your skin in white-hot pain. Razor sharp icy shards cut into Zuko’s skin, finding chinks in his armor, piercing his flesh and drawing blood. 

The snow beneath the both of you was dotted red now, both of you staring at each other, panting heavily.  

“You really shouldn’t be here.” you repeat again, but this time, it was barely a whisper, swallowing down tears as the cold wind of the Northern Water Tribe stung your gaping wounds. 

Zuko growls, grunting in pain as he pulls a shard of ice out of his skin.“I don’t take orders from a little waterbender” he spat, venom dripping from his words. 

You reciprocate with a snide comment of your own. “This ‘little waterbender’ just sunk 5 icicles into your skin.” 

Zuko was just about ready to tear your head off, hands igniting with vermillion flames before you collapse, the burns along your thigh and calf were much more severe than either of you realized.  

You choke out a sob of pain but keep your control of the water left in your waterskin. You couldn’t die, not today, and not at the hands of the prince of the Fire Nation.  

Zuko’s heart throbs unexpectedly, the look on your face too familiar for comfort. The face of someone who worked so desperately hard, only for all that effort to go down the drain. But he didn’t care for you. He couldn’t- couldn’t grow attachment to a non-threatening waterbender. Yet you sat there on the snow, dotted with blood, with that raw look in your eyes. His flames extinguished, without him meaning to.  

You flinched as he threw his swords down frustrated, impaling themselves into the nearby snow mound, standing straight up. 

He stomps over to you, and you frantically move back, but your leg flares up in pain again, and you yelp, hissing in pain.

“Stop moving, you’ll make it worse.” he says, glaring at you, but not as intensely as he had before.  

You want to scream, kick him, punch him, anything, but your body betrays you as he sweeps you up into his arms, carrying you to the nearest place he can find, where he can keep you safe. You feel his strong arms hook under your knees and under your back, holding you securely to his firm chest. Even through his armor, he radiates warmth, a gentle heat, unlike the flames he threw at you merely minutes ago.  

He hates this, with every fiber in my being, his voice screaming at him to drop you and burn your frail body to a crisp, vengeance for the blood dripping from his own body, but he keeps moving, step after painstaking step. 

You try to stay awake, you really do, yet channeling so much energy from your battle, the numb throb in your lower leg, and the comforting heat radiating off the fire prince who refuses to look at you, you slip into unconsciousness.  

Zuko feels a weight press against his chest, and he huffs, honey-colored eyes catching onto the details of your face, the curve of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, the slight pout of your lips as you nuzzle into his armor unintentionally, how pretty you were when you were at peace. 

He stops himself there, reprimanding himself for thinking such things. He can’t have feelings for the enemy. 

And yet, even as he and his troops head home, battle wearing and dejected from the loss of a major battle, Zuko can’t help but think about his little waterbender.  

*** 

When you wake up, the kind woman tending to you tells you all about the mysterious and handsome man who carried your sleeping form across the entire Northern Water Tribe because he didn’t know where the healing center was.  

[overtail]

Hey!! Loved your last Zuko smut it was so great! Could you please make another smut where zuko joins gaang but he isn’t fully trusted yet by everyone (except from reader who saw good in him from the beginning) so every night one person keeps an eye on him and when it was reader’s turn thing turned out spicy

I would like female reader who is flirty and teasing because she alert always found him attractive

It’s okay if you don’t want to write this I just saw you asked for requests

Thank you in advance<3

THANK U FOR REQUESTING MUAH MUAH

anyways id love to do that for you hehe :3

sorry if it took a while i was sick when i got the request 😔

got silly while writing this

...

I know you - Zuko x Reader🔞

Summary: She was from the fire nation, he was the heir of it. She grew up thrown to the side, not ever accepting her true powers. When her and the Gaang take in Zuko so he can teach Aang firebending, she trusts him more than the others.

Trigger Warning: NSFW, flirting, arguing, slight bottom Zuko, Semi-public sex, both reader and zuko are awkward turtle ducks

Reader Info: Firebender who can't bend, Female intended, headstrong, flirty

...

"I really don't want to supervise Zuko tonight." Sokka grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ever since Zuko saved Aang and his friends from 'Combustion Man' or better known as 'Sparky Sparky Boom Man', nobody trusted him to sleep around them without supervision. Well, except (Y/N), but they thought she had some bias since he was fire nation.

Nobody had a single drop of respect for him. Even though he insisted that he, 'was good now', everyone believed he was a spy.

But nobody could blame them.

"I need my beauty sleep." Sokka mimicked a beauty guru as his hands framed his face. "The ladies appreciate a pretty boy."

Katara groaned, rolling her eyes. "It's your turn, Sokka." She crossed her arms, pursing her lips at him. "No one else is gonna-"

"I'll do it!" A voice quickly interrupted. Everyone turned to look at (Y/N), who was standing stiffly. She smiled awkwardly. She pinched at the hem of her pants, stepping forward. "I don't mind doing it.."

Sokka crossed his arms, raising a brow at (Y/N). Everyone was aware of the little 'crush' she had on Zuko. I mean, he was cute, he was angsty, and he was strong. Extremely short, but strong. She always took the chance to tease him.

"I mean, if you insist." Sokka walked away towards his tent, sighing softly in happiness. Rest was one of his most appreciated things in life - behind stuffing his face in food. Maybe it was because he liked the feeling of waking up in the morning, or the interesting dreams he had at night.

No one knew.

"Thanks, Sokka!" She said with a smile waving goodbye to him. "I-I mean, I'll do the job.."

As everyone headed off to their respective sleeping spots, (Y/N) listened to the quiet chirping of the crickets, looking up at the night sky as the stars glimmered. She considered whether or not she should g into Zuko's tent to check up on him (more like poke fun at him.)

While she ended an ear to the sound of the crackling flames coming from. the vampire, she heard the sound of shuffling coming from her left. (Y/N) glanced to the side, seeing Zuko climbing out from the flaps of his tent.

"Oh. Hi." He said awkwardly, holding his hand up in place of a wave. "What are you doing out here?" He questioned, wondering where Sokka was. Zuko was aware of the rotation for their watch party; Aang, Katara, Sokka, and then (Y/N). Toph didn't have the responsibility of watching Zuko since her feet were still injured from when he jumpscared him that night.

"Watching you." (Y/N) tried to play it cool, but a pool of desire filled her heart as she watched Zuko's dark hair fall in front of his amber eyes. He looked so pretty as the firelight shone on his pale skin. She started to grow pink under his gaze.

"Isn't it Sokka's turn?" Zuko stretched, his shirt lifting up to expose his stomach. (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the sight.

"Yeah, but he begged me to take his turn," She lied, rubbing the back of her neck. "he's awfully tired."

Zuko nodded. He began to walk over to the log (Y/N) was sat on. (Y/N) watched as he sat next to her, his pale fingers grazing the hard bark of the seat. It was extremely cold in the area, especially since they were in a semi-cave. After the failed invasion at the palace, they had begun to stay at the western air temple. The infrastructure was odd - upside building lining the roofs of the cave.

"I'm sure you won't mind hangin' out with me." She elbowed him, smirking. "Us being fire nation and all."

Zuko turned to look at her, a brown raised in confusion. "You're from the fire nation?" He asked, tilting his head. It was as if he was inspecting her. "You don't seem like it."

(Y/N) shrugged, glancing up at him. "Yeah. I mean, my family was banished when I was pretty young. But I'm still fire nation." She sighed, resting her chin on her hand, Her elbow dug into the skin of her knee, but she didn't mind. "Do you know Gender Jin?" She asked.

With a nod, Zuko said, "Yeah, why?"

Genera. Jin had been banished from the fire nation twelve years ago, whe Zuko was four. He had committed treason against Azulon, Zuko's grandfather, for having a child with a waterbender. Apparently, he was also accused of planning attacks on the fire nation with the northern water tribe during this time. It was never confirmed, but the speculation was brought up a whole lot.

"That's my Dad." (Y/N) said, sighing softly, Zuko let out a small 'oh', surprised at this.

"Are you-"

"The infamous forbidden child? Yep. Yes-sir-ee." (Y/N) interjected. She already knew what he was going to say. The word was passed around almost the whole world when it happened, since the fire nations grasp infiltrated every nation in some manner. She knew what her name was. She knew what people thought of her.

"The rumors of me being a firebender and a water bender aren't true." Zuko looked at her, surprised that she knew this. "I'm just a plain ole' firebender."

There was an awkward silence between the two. There was not much to say, at least off the top of their heads.

(Y/N) perked up, looking over at Zuko. "Do you think you could teach me some tricks?" She said excitedly. Zuko was caught of guard by this.

"Tricks? What do you mean?" He asked, wanting her to elaborate. He was looking for practice with a firebender lately, so this might be fun.

"Like, could you teach me?" (Y/N) looked away with an embarrassed face. Her father never told her firebending; he wanted her to live a normal life as a kid.

"You mean you don't know anything?" Zuko laughed in disbelief. "Anything at all?"

"Yeah.." (Y/N) grumbled, pursing her lips slightly. "I'm ashamed of it - I can admit it. But I wouldn't mind if you taught me some things." She wiggled her brows, smirking slightly as she glanced at him. Zuko flattened his lips.

"I mean, I don't have much to do." Zuko pushed off of the seat, leaning forward and standing up fully. He glanced down at (Y/N). He reached his hand out, offering it to her. "Come on."

...

They walked into a small clearing, the cold night wind blowing their hair back and forth. They had climbed above the cliff the western air temple hung from, where a large valley rested.

Zuko had removed the robe that hung over his clothes. His arms were exposed, small goosebumps lining his arms.

(Y/N)'s eyes graced his body, her face growing red from both the cold air and his body.

"Already undressing?" She teased, crossing her arms and grinning. "Take me out to dinner first."

Zuko glanced over to her, a frown appearing on his face. "W-what?" He said, shifting uncomfortably.

"I mean, I get that I'm the prettiest girl here - no offense to Katara." (Y/N) walked over, smirking. "but you barely know me Prince Zuko." She poked him on the chest jokingly. (Y/N) leaned on her legs her hip popping out.

Zuko huffed out a fiery breath (no pun intended), looking to the side. "Do you want to learn or not?"

(Y/N)'s eyes widened. She stepped back, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, yeah." She shook her arms nervously, stepping back and getting into a fighting stance.

"Fire bending is all about- what are you doing?" Zuko stopped mid sentence, looking at (Y/N).

"Uhm, getting into a stance?" She said awkwardly, looking to the ground.

"No, no. You're to open." Zuko stepped forward. He grabbed her wrists, pulling them down in front of her chest. "You're leaving your body open to hits." He walked behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

She shivered, the feeling of his fingers gracing her skin. (Y/N) leaned into the touch, his palms touching the lower part of her shoulders. "You opponents have the opportunity to knock you to the ground." Zuko placed his right foot on the inside of her legs. The toe of his shoe pressed against the heel of her foot, pushing it slightly.

"You want to be low.." He whispered into her neck, pushing her shoulders down so she was more level to the ground.

Was he doing this on purpose? (Y/N)'s heartbeat was audible in her ears, but she wasn't the only one who's blood was pumping from this interaction.

As she moved down her backside rubbed against Zuko's crotch lightly. He let out a small gasp, his eye twitching at the feeling.

(Y/N) smirked at the sound, realizing the affect she had on Zuko. What could she do with this? A lonely teenage boy? She was sure he wouldn't mind.

"Ope, sorry Zuko." She said slyly. She bent her knees even more, her ass pushing onto Zuko's growing erection.

Zuko shifted back uncomfortably, their contact breaking.

(Y/N) turned around, standing up fully. "Oh c'mon Zuko, i need you to show me how to do this." She smirked, her foot digging into the grass.

"I know what you're doing." Zuko said, his face growing red under the pale moonlight. His eyes scanned her, and unimpressed looked overcoming him.

"What am I doing?" She teased, a finger pressing onto Zuko's chest. "Tell me."

Zuko's face held a look of frustration. His eyes met hers, his eyebrows furrowing together. There was a hot tension between the two of them, healing the goosebumps on their skin from the cold night air.

The digit placed on his chest soon turned into (Y/N)'s entire hand. She took a step closer to him, causing Zuko to let out a shaky breath.

Even with her confidant pseudo, (Y/N)'s stomach was filled with a nervous sickness. She had no idea what she was doing - letting her desire lead her.

"You're trying to turn me on." Zuko muttered, keeping his voice low.

"It's working though, isn't it?" (Y/N) barked back.

Zuko's face flushed slightly, clearly caught off guard by your boldness. "I assure you, that wasn't my intention. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"No. Zuko, come on.." She said, a shaky breath huffing from my red nose. "Were so alike."

Zuko hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the ground. "How so?"

"Were both refugees from a country that thrived on evil." Her arm traveled from his chest to his arm. (Y/N) watched as he flinched slightly. Her eyes made contact with his. "And you know what Sokka says about us behind our backs."

Zuko swallowed hard, his heart racing as he felt your touch. He knew what Sokka thought of them - that they were both damaged goods from a twisted world. Despite the danger and uncertainty, there was something undeniably compelling about this connection.

"I like you Zuko." She said, smiling softly. Her seductive shell cracked, shower her sweetness hidden inside.

Zuko looked into her eyes, feeling a familiar pain in his heart. Here was someone else who knew what it was like to be an outcast, to carry the burden of a nation's sins. "I like you too," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I trust you, too." She sighed, squeezing his arm gently. "They didn't trust me either at first."

Zuko's heart skipped a beat at her words. Trust was a rare and precious thing in their world, where betrayal lurked around every corner. But she was offering it to him freely, without judgment or fear. "Thank you," he breathed out softly.

She leaned forward, placing a soft peck on Zuko's lips. A warm feeling flooded through their bodies, the world around them feeling almost unrecognizable as they sat in the moment.

Zuko froze for a moment, shocked by the unexpected kiss. But as he felt her lips on his, he found himself responding, leaning in to deepen the kiss. The warmth spread through him, filling the cold void that had been there for so long.

She grabbed his face, bringing him down to kiss Zuko deeply. (Y/N) let out a huff from her nose, letting her fingers comb through Zuko's dark hair.

Zuko's hands found their way to her waist, pulling (Y/N) closer as he kissed her back with all the pent-up longing and desire that had been building inside him for so long.

As the kiss deepened, Zuko felt a fire ignite within him, burning away the coldness and isolation that had defined his life for so long. He wrapped his arms around (Y/N), pulling her closer still as he explored her mouth with his tongue, tasting her sweetness.

As she broke away from the kiss, their breaths mingled in the air between them. Zuko felt his heart racing, a wild and unfamiliar sensation.

Zuko looked into her eyes, seeing a reflection of his own turmoil and desire. He couldn't believe what was happening, but he didn't want it to stop. His hands roamed down her back, pulling her even closer as he whispered, "I need you."

"Show me." She whispered, leaning up to kiss him again.

Zuko dragged her onto the grass with him, never breaking the kiss.

Zuko pulled her onto his lap, cradling her body against his as he deepened the kiss once more. His hands trailed down (Y/N)'s sides, pushing up her shirt to reveal her soft skin beneath.

Feeling emboldened by her invitation and his own burning need, Zuko slid his hands underneath her shirt, tracing circles on her bare back. His lips moved hungrily against hers as he lost himself in the sensation of her skin against his fingertips.

Zuko's hands continued their exploration, moving lower to grasp her hips as he pulled her even closer. He could feel the heat between her legs, and it fueled his desire even more.

With a groan, Zuko slipped his hand beneath her shorts, feeling the softness of her thighs and the wetness between them. He couldn't believe how much he wanted her, how badly he needed to be inside (Y/N).

"Shit, Zuko.." She said between heated kisses, fingers pulling at his soft hair.

Zuko growled against her lips as he continued to touch her, his other hand sliding up (Y/N)'s leg to knead at her ass cheek. He could feel himself growing hard against her leg and he knew he had to have her soon.

"This isn't how I expected this night to go." She played with Zuko, his lips connecting with the soft skin of her neck.

Zuko chuckled breathlessly, his lips trailing down her neck to nibble at her collarbone. "Neither did I," he admitted, his voice husky with desire.

"Is this how you practice back home?" (Y/N) said, her feet digging in the dirt behind Zuko.

Zuko laughed softly against her skin. "No," he replied, his voice still rough with lust. "But I think I'd like to make it a regular practice here."

(Y/N) moaned slightly when Zuko's hips bucked into hers. "Ill watch over you more often then."

Zuko's eyes darkened with desire as he heard her words, and he couldn't resist bucking his hips against hers a little harder. "I'd like that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

As she pulled back a little, Zuko took the opportunity to stand up, his hands sliding up her back to grip your shoulders. He looked down at her with an intense gaze, his eyes full of the burning passion that had overtaken him. "Take me to your bed,"

"We can't. We'll wake the others." She smirked, grabbing onto Zuko's wrist.

A growl rumbled in Zuko's chest at the reminder of their surroundings. But he knew she was right. Reluctantly, he nodded. "Then we'll make do with this," he said, reaching down to scoop (Y/N) up in his arms.

Zuko's heart was racing as he carried you deep into the nearby forest, away from the edge of the cliff. "To a quiet spot," he replied, his voice low and gravelly with desire. "A place where we can be even more alone."

He came to a small clearing where the trees thinned out, revealing a bed of soft moss and leaves. Gently, he lowered (Y/N) down onto it, his hands lingering on her hips for a moment before he joined her, pressing his body against hers.

(Y/N) pulled down her shorts and underwear, the cold hair hitting her exposed sex.

"Just get on with it, Zuko." She groaned, rolling her eyes.

Zuko chuckled softly against your lips before pulling back slightly to give you a teasing grin. "Always so impatient," he teased as he slowly unbuttoned his pants, sliding down his pants along with his boxers. He sprang free, a bead of pre-cum on his tip.

"Spirits.." She whispered at the sight of him, how he was throbbing at the sight of her.

Zuko's gaze locked onto yours as he positioned himself between her legs, his hard length rubbing against her slick entrance. "You ready for me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You tell me."

With a groan, Zuko pushed forward, slowly entering (Y/N). Her tight heat enveloped him, and he fought the urge to slam all the way inside. Instead, he began to move in and out of her slowly, enjoying the sensation of being joined with her.

(Y/N)'s hands found their way to his chest, and she leaned into him, moaning softly. The feeling of being filled by him was indescribable, and as he picked up speed, driving deeper inside her with each thrust, she felt herself getting closer to the edge.

She could feel Zuko's muscles tensing as he neared his climax, his thrusts becoming more erratic and forceful. His other hand found its way to her clit, massaging it gently as he continued to pound into her. "I'm close."

"Already?" She teased, trying to maintain a sarcastic demeaner as she let out erratic moans.

With a chuckle, Zuko leaned down to kiss her again as he pulled almost all the way out of her before slamming back in. "You like that?" he asked breathlessly.

She screamed, her nails scratching at Zuko's back until white marks appeared - lighter than his skin.

Feeling her nails dig into his skin, Zuko lost control completely. With a primal growl, he pushed her down onto the ground and continued to pound into her, taking what he wanted with no regard for her comfort or pleasure.

He was like a rabid animal, like this was the thing he needed to live.

Her screams of pleasure and pain echoed through the forest as Zuko continued to take her roughly, losing himself in the sensation of being inside her. He could feel his release building, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

"Zuko!" She clenched around him, being pulled over the edge as she shook. Her orgasm washed over her, (Y/N)'s eyes clenching tightly.

Feeling her walls clenching around him, Zuko let out a guttural moan as he emptied himself inside her. His thrusts became erratic and forceful, his body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm.

Finally, Zuko's movements slowed down, and he collapsed beside her, panting heavily. His heartbeat slowly returned to normal as he nuzzled into her neck, still inside her. "That was... intense," he whispered against her skin.

"Ya think?" Her chest rose up and down as she still huffed. (Y/N) tried to catch her breath, but she was sweating from the intensity.

Zuko chuckled softly, feeling his cock twitch inside her. "I think," he said with a smirk. After a few moments, he pulled out of her and rolled onto his side, still panting heavily. "So... how do you feel?"

(Y/N) faked a deep thought for a moment, looking away from him. "Eh. It was fine." She smirked at him, causing Zuko to roll his eyes.

"So.. you were scratching at my back because you hated it so much?" He played, kissing her neck softly.

"For sure." She sighed, playing with his hair.

The two teens lay there, panting heavily as the moonlight illuminated their skin. Their bodies were tangled but not in a hurry to separate. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, their need for each other overruled everything. They could return in the morning, nobody would notice - right?

...

[cressidagrey]

Tear the World Apart

For Eris Week 2024- Day 7 - Free Day

@erisweekofficial

Summary:

Eris’ mate decides to get rid of her father-in-law. Also known as: If Eris Vanserra married a very bloodthirsty Margaery Tyrell.

Warning:

Plotting of Murder, Poisoning, Mention of domestic violence and parental abuse, Beron ends up dead?

(Lovely dividers thanks to @tsunami-of-tears!)

The moment Wisteria Abinac met her future husband…her future father-in-law was a dead male. 

Beron Vanserra should have simply known better than to ever have laid a single finger on her mate. 

It was an open secret in the Autumn Court, after all, what exactly he did to his lovely wife and his sons. The High Lord was known for his cruelty.

So really…she was doing everybody a favour if she killed him.

Wisteria decided two things during that Masquerade Ball where she first danced with Eris Vanserra and the Mating Bond decided to snap for her: Beron Vanserra was a dead male and Wisteria Abinac was going to marry her mate. 

That marrying her mate was going to make her the next Lady of Autumn…well, that was just a happy coincidence. (Her grandmother would be very pleased indeed. This was what Begonia Abinac had always strived for, after all.) 

Wisteria wasn’t going to protest that particular title in any way. She had not been named Wisteria for nothing. Wisteria was named after that sweet-smelling vigorously climbing plant: She was rather good at climbing, especially the social kind. 

That was what she had been raised to do, hadn’t she? If the bumbling male idiots in her family couldn’t manage it, the females did.

So at that Masquerade ball…it had been the touch of a hand, calloused from sword fighting and one look into a pair of amber eyes and the Mating Bond had decided to snap for her. 

It hadn’t snapped for him. 

At least, Wisteria didn’t think so, because he spent the rest of that Masquerade Ball utterly ignoring her. 

Oh well. That only managed to light a fire under. 

Wisteria was going to procure herself the Heir to the Autumn Court as her husband. Even when it was the last thing she did. Thankfully, the situation didn’t turn out to be quite as dire. 

Actually…it was laughably easy. Wisteria had expected it to be more difficult.

A few words to her father at dinner one evening of how her older brother should really marry and finally procure an heir to their duchy…Thanks to the cauldron, her father had the High Lord’s Ear. (The fact that her family kept most of the Autumn Court provided with grain, was useful for once.) She knew that he would mention something to the High Lord about finding his eldest son a wife….and once he did…the seeds were sown. 

Then, a few words to her grandmother of how cunning and handsome the eldest son of the High Lord was…Wisteria didn’t need to say more to make her intentions clear. Begonia Abinac just patted her hand and congratulated her for setting her sights on such an ambitious target…

And once Wisteria had these two in her corner…well, then she only needed a few other well-placed words to a few other well-placed people and the next letter that fluttered into the Abinac family manor… that was all about how High Lord of Autumn had decided that his eldest son should also really get on with that heir business and that the daughter of one of his most needed allies was going to be just a good pick as any... 

The next court occasion brought with it a lovely new dark green dress that fitted beautifully with her dark hair and eyes, a gold tiara woven in her hair that looked like gold encrusted leaves and fat emeralds dripping down her throat…She already looked like the Lady of this Court, even when she wasn’t. Not yet, at least

And once Wisteria had her in…it was even easier. 

She knew what the High Lord liked. Wisteria had perfected the mask of a simpering, submissive girl. Nothing that Beron would find threatening in any way. Just about magically powerful enough that he thought she was worth it to give birth to his heir’s heir, but weak enough that he wasn’t worried that she would start a rebellion or anything like that…

A fun plaything. Nothing more. Nothing less. 

She did make sure at that ball that she caught the eyes of every available male. Waving a bright red flag in front of them that she was available, from good breeding stock and clearly knew how to behave.  She knew that she was playing with fire. 

Oh well. Wisteria had always adored flames. 

She was counting on the Mating bond-induced jealousy. Expected it in fact. 

No other male would be stupid enough to get in the way of a Prince if he did make his interest clear...and it seemed to work. After about an hour of simpering conversation and wrapping a curl of dark hair around her finger…, there he was...the Autumn Prince himself. 

He came to stand next to her, a glass of wine in one hand as he leaned casually against the wall. Wisteria took a moment to study him closer. Gods, he was certainly easy enough on the eyes. "Enjoying yourself, Lady Wisteria?" he asked a moment later, his voice casually polite, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

She turned her head to look at him fully, a polite smile on her own lips in return as she met his gaze. "Of course, milord," she said back, her own tone just as polite, even as her own eyes slid down over his body as she spoke. "I always did enjoy a good dance."

Eris chuckled and took a drink of his wine, his eyes watching her with an expression of interest. "You certainly seem used to them," he said, his tone still casual, but there was a slight hint of a question to his words. "You've already shared a dance with half of the available males within the room."

She giggled back, lifting a hand and toying with a strand of her hair. "You exaggerate, Milord," she said back, her voice still casual, keeping her mask of polite innocence on. "I think it's only been one-quarter of the available males in the room."

"Searching for your long-suffering future husband?" he asked her. There was something sharp in these words, but she didn’t let that stop her. 

"Oh, I already found him," she gave back drily.

That got him to pause, and she silently noted how his golden eyes flashed with something like surprise at her words. There was a hint of a frown on his lips for just a moment before he smoothed it back out, but he was clearly thinking furiously. "You have?" he asked his tone back to being casually polite. "Who is the lucky male, then?"

She lifted her head a little more and tilted her head to the side with a smile of innocent satisfaction on her lips. "Why, you, of course, milord," she said like it was just the most obvious thing in the world.

There it was again...that flash of surprise in his gaze, his eyes sharpening just a fraction. She wondered if he was going to brush her off as some silly, foolish, simpering female...or if he was going to take the bait...

It...it took all her willpower and hard-won experience to keep that polite, innocent smile on her lips and not smirk in victory as she watched him consider his words, his golden gaze on her face never wavering for a moment...

"...Is that so?" he eventually said, his tone still casual and polite, as if he was discussing the current weather and not her stating that he was already her future husband. "And why, exactly, am I your chosen future husband, Miss Abinac? You don't even know me."

The corner of her lips tugged up, just a fraction, at the question, the first crack in her mask, but he was sharp, his eyes noticing that, of course. "That may be true, Milord," she gave him a smile back. "But I could say the same the other way, too. You know nothing about me either...and yet, you approached me all the same."

"I do know that you are a very good dancer," he said calmly, offering her his hand.

Once more, Wisteria hid a victorious smirk, her own hand placing itself in his, her fingers curling through his. "I do like dancing, Milord," she replied calmly. "And I do pride myself on not trampling on my partner’s toes."

Her mask didn't even slip once as he led her out to the dance floor, the two of them began to dance, and it took every ounce of control in her body not to smile in sheer satisfaction at the feel of the Mating Bond in her chest burning brilliantly, as if to mark the moment as something...momentous.

He proposed 3 days later.

She knew that Eris didn't propose to her because he wanted to. His father ordered him.

A fact that Wisteria knew and thoroughly loathed and which gave her all the more motivation to make sure that she would be the one truly pulling the strings come the day she married him.

Eris may not want to marry her, but he was her mate. 

And Wisteria had secured that ruby ring set into gold...well, she could have laughed at how easy it was to get what she wanted. Her entire engagement to the High Lord's son had been as simple as a flutter of her eyelashes and a few choice words.

Actually marrying Eris...well that was another thing entirely.

He seemed utterly uninterested in her. Which stung and made her seethe more than a little if she was being honest with herself.  After all, he was her mate...and yet, he gave her nothing. Not a hint of the bond between them...not an inch past polite courtesy and duty. 

Granted, he didn’t treat her badly. Wisteria just was certain that there were inanimate objects that got more of his attention than her. Not even to speak of his whole horde of dogs. 

Well, at least the dogs liked her, she supposed. Probably helped by the fact that she was not above some well-intentioned bribery and fed them bits of her breakfast. 

(Though if she had hoped that maybe once the dogs liked her, Eris would warm up to her…well, that did not come to pass. He was more likely to glare at the dogs than he was to look at her when they played with her.) 

It had been nearly three months. And her husband had not given her a single damn thing to work with…

In fact, he hadn't touched her at all. Other than that one kiss at the altar to seal their marriage, that was. 

Eris had not shared her bed once. Had never even tried to touch her at all. 

How exactly was Wisteria supposed to give him an heir, if he didn’t lay with her? 

Her mate was infuriating. 

Eris was her mate for Cauldron’s sake...he should want her, should seek her out...so why wasn't he doing that?  It was making her furious. 

And when Wisteria was furious…she did one thing and one thing only: She plotted. 

In this particular case, Wisteria plotted the downfall of her father-in-law. 

Beron Vanserra was a brute of a male...and yet, it was laughably easy to figure out how to manipulate and play him. After all, he wanted the same thing all males like him wanted. 

He wanted to be flattered and praised, to be told that everything he said was correct and he was doing the right thing. It was all just a matter of careful flattery, of sweet words said at the right moment, and it was all too easy to gain his ear and attention...

Beron Vanserra was not only a dead male, but a stupid one, as well.

And that…that suited Wisteria’s plan just so well. 

Just as she had plotted to marry Eris…she plotted to make Eris High Lord. 

After all, Beron was doing nothing more than slowly destroying the strength and power of Autumn. He was destroying the lands...he was wasting all the resources that the court had...and he was doing all of it as he drank himself into oblivion on a nightly basis. The whole thing was an excellent opportunity for her to carefully slip a few words into the right ears, to whisper about better ways of doing things...to suggest Eris as a better leader...

And well, if she joined her parents-in-law at their nightly dinner, with a bottle of Apple Cider in tow...a wedding gift from the ancient Duke Hector who sadly died just days after their wedding...that was simply what a good daughter-in-law did, right?!

(And if that meant that she gave the long-suffering Lady of the Court a break from having to soothe some of Beron's...tempers...well, even better. Amara had always been lovely to her after all. And Eris did adore his mother, seemingly the only person who managed to make him show any feelings at all.)

Amara, in turn, had seemed to grow quite fond of Wisteria, taking it upon herself to teach her the way of the court, who to turn to for what…for a girl that hadn’t had a mother since her own had succumbed to illness when she had just been a toddler…it was foreign to have that again. Wisteria’s grandmother had never been particularly maternal. But Amara was. 

And just because of that, Wisteria wanted to shield her from Beron’s outbursts and his tempers. 

It was a good thing for the Lady of the Autumn Court to catch a break from Beron on some level, and if it helped to strengthen Wisteria's bond with Amara and Eris, well, all the better.

(Or at least, Wisteria told herself that that was the only reason why she enjoyed spending time with Amara.)

Wisteria knew two things: One, in a match of magic, she would utterly lose against any High Lord. And two...Beron was stupid to actually drink that damn apple cider every night.

(Thank god, the late Duke Hector had been gracious enough to give them three whole boxes of it to their wedding…nobody would notice if she started…adding something to the last batch of it…)

Wisteria hadn't been born an Abinac for nothing. Her knowledge of botany was...extensive. Extensive and well-known. 

Well known that she tended to the Palace Gardens and even planted medicinal herbs to stock up the infirmary of the Forest House guards…

The knowledge of herbs, plants, and nature in general had certainly helped Wisteria a great deal, in all sorts of different ways. The knowledge of some particularly useful plants and herbs...well, the knowledge had certainly come to good use. After all, it was only sensible to try and learn how to better aid her people...

And it made for some rather handy tools to have at her disposal...should the need for them ever arise.

And if she snipped off a few sprigs of hemlock every day...oh well. Nobody needed to know. 

She wasn't stupid enough to only poison the High Lord‘s glass. She would be found out in a heartbeat.

Wisteria poisoned that whole box of Apple Cider.

She was also very careful to build up an immunity to Hemlock for both her and Amara over three months. There was no antidote for Hemlock after all…

Like any good planner, Wisteria played the waiting game, playing the dutiful new wife and daughter-in-law by day, planning and plotting for her husband's coronation by night.

Safety first. Making sure to cover her tracks. 

She wasn't stupid enough to take the risk of being found out. The poisoning of the High Lord needed to be done, but her own safety and the safety of Amara needed to be considered first.

And when Eris told her that he would be away for a week or so, tending to Autumn’s army...well...

Wisteria decided that Beron's time had come.

She behaved just like she had done for three months. Following the routine she had established.

Wisteria played her part as perfectly as always, her routine just as precise and on point as it had always been. Just that the drink she poured her father-in-law that night…it was lethal. (For him.) 

It was so easy to keep the mask of the dutiful daughter-in-law on as she made sure that Beron's meal for that evening was prepared on time, and she even kept it in place as she followed the long-established ritual of handing Beron his nightly drink afterwards, a kind smile on her lips.

Granted, her own drink was just as hemlock-infused. As was Amara's.

There was to hope that she didn't absolutely fuck this up.

Wisteria was careful, after all. She wasn't taking any chances, not by a long shot. Beron, for a High Lord, was surprisingly stupid in so many ways...

As he took his first drink, she brought her own glass to her lips, not drinking a single drop. 

The sudden gasping after breath...the fact that his whole face turned purple...The panicked scrabbling at this face and neck as he tried in vain to get anything, any air at all, into his body...Beron Vanserra...he didn't even manage to take a single step in her direction, or to even reach for the magic...he fell dead before he could even make a move to reach her.

He just fell to the floor, dead before her eyes as his own wife watched on in shocked horror as the life left her husband's eyes, but Wisteria didn't allow herself to look at Amara, keeping her eyes fixed steadily on her father-in-law as his final breath left his body.

And then she started screaming for the guards.

(Really, her acting performance was on par with the Royal Theatre, if she said so herself!)

Her performance was perfect, her screams and sobs of horror were enough to draw a great many guards, several of them coming running into the room quickly, clearly alarmed at the loud sounds, their eyes turning to look at the scene in the room in front of them.

They froze in place for a moment as they took in the sight of the late High Lord on the floor, his face a purplish shade of colour and his dead, unblinking eyes staring up at them, but their attention then turned to the sobbing, hysterical Wisteria, who was in the middle of sobbing and crying as her trembling hands clutched at the fabric of her dress...

And Amara, who just stared, shocked into silence.

Wisteria did feel horrible for traumatising her like that. But it was the best way to make sure that the Lady of Autumn would be seen as innocent.

Amara’s usual gentle and kind demeanour was nowhere to be seen at this moment, her face utterly pale and her dark eyes as wide open as they could go, her hand clutched tight against her chest as she stared down at her dead husband, her mouth moving as she tried to speak, tried to say something, anything...and yet, she was still too shocked to make a single sound beyond a strangled gasp.

The guards that answered Wisteria's screams and came rushing into the room stood there for a moment in shocked and horrified silence, their eyes frozen on the body and the sight of the High Lord dead on the floor, dead by...he was poisoned.

And then, as if on cue, they all as one seemed to realize that Wisteria and Amara were still alive and standing in the middle of the room, and their gazes moved to look at the two females, their eyes taking them in and trying to assess the situation.

She had counted on them thinking that females were weak.

She had been right to count on that. The moment she started stuttering about the apple cider that had been a wedding gift from a dead male...they had found their culprit.

Too bad for the late Duke Hector...but then, the male had hated Beron with a passion, so Wisteria thought that he probably wouldn't feel too bad that she used him as her scapegoat.

Her stuttering and sobbing were enough to confirm the guard's belief that the late High Lord had been poisoned by the apple cider...and not a single one of them thought of any other culprit than the late Duke Hector. After all, he had given the gift, and he was dead.

The perfect crime.

Wisteria was sobbing loudly the entire time the guards were in the room, her expression one of perfect distress and shock as they all discussed the 'crime', and it was only after the guards had picked up Beron's body to take it away and prepare it for the funeral rites, that Amara finally seemed to regain herself.

She turned her head to look at Wisteria, her face still deathly pale and one hand moving to clutch tightly at the younger female's arm. "You're unharmed...?” she whispered, her voice trembling from the shock.

"I'm alright," Wisteria replied shakily, her own voice trembling just as much as she turned her head to look back at her mother-in-law, her eyes red from the sobbing, a very convincing picture. "I'm alright...thank the Mother," she whispered, her voice still shaky as she took a few steps closer to the Lady of Autumn Court and gripped the older woman's hand in hers.

"I am so sorry," Wisteria apologised. She wasn't. Not really.

"It's alright," Amara whispered, her hand squeezing Wisteria's own hand so tightly they felt as if they were crushing her fingers. "You're...you're alright," she repeated again, as if the words were a mantra to comfort herself. Wisteria squeezed Amara's own hand back, her other hand moving up and wrapping around the older female's shoulders, hugging her.’

Poison was found in the glasses of all three and in the bottle. Clearly Duke Hector had wanted them all dead.

The guards had bought it, hook line and sinker. After all, the duke was dead...there was no need for further investigation beyond that, and the belief that the Duke had wanted to poison everyone present during the meal was more than enough for them. They were just so sure of themselves after all, and the case was wrapped up neatly, and nobody was going to bother to investigate further beyond what appeared to be the obvious conclusion.

Her plan…it had gone off without a hitch.

Now to deal with the fallout.

"Let's go sit down," Wisteria told her mother-in-law softly. "Why don't you come stay in Eris and I's rooms tonight?"

Amara shook her head faintly, but it was more of an instinctive, thoughtless action rather than an answer to the suggestion, and after a moment she whispered out a weak, "Please." It was the most vulnerable that Wisteria had ever seen the older female act as they began making their way towards the Heir's room.

She kept an arm around Amara at all times, murmuring gentle reassurances as she led her towards her and Eris' room, doing her best to reassure her mother-in-law as best she could. Amara was in shock, that much was obvious. 

She helped Amara sit down on an armchair once they reached the room, one of her own hands moving to take the older female's hand again and holding hers in hers, gently rubbing her thumb across Amara's knuckles in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

"Just try and take a few deep breaths," she spoke in a gentle, soft murmur, her eyes watching the older woman closely as Amara sat there, all too aware of the fact that it could very easily go downhill if Amara didn't get herself back in control soon. "I'm right here," she reassured. "You're not alone. You'll be alright. Just try and breathe."

Amara obeyed, or at least, she tried, taking in a few shaky, gulping breaths that shook her body as Wisteria continued to speak in a soft, gentle voice, the young, inexperienced Lady of Autumn Court doing her best to help her in-law and maintain her own mask of concern and distress, all too aware that if her mask slipped even a little...if Amara so much as suspected something, her meticulously planned charade could come tumbling down around her.

It took a few minutes, but eventually, Amara finally managed to get herself a bit more together, her own grip on Wisteria's hand loosening and her breathing becoming less shaky and ragged as Wisteria continued to hold the older female's hand and murmur soft assurances to her, taking her time and letting Amara calm down at her own pace.

"I never thought..." Amara said, shaking her head.

"Nobody could have predicted this," Wisteria murmured back, squeezing Amara's hand gently. "It can't have been easy for you," Wisteria told the older woman gently. "Dealing with him, I mean. You're a much better wife than he ever deserved," she continued, squeezing Amara's hand in her own. "You're strong...and good," she continued, her voice soft and gentle, her expression one of sympathy and concern over what she was saying. It was the complete and total truth, after all, which made it all the easier to act like she was feeling bad for the older woman's plight.

Beron had been a brute and an ass...and it had made it so much easier to poison his drink. "All he ever did was hurt and belittle you," Wisteria continued softly. "Nobody deserves to be treated that way, certainly not by one's own husband...especially not one as gentle and kind as you," she said, one of her thumbs rubbing slowly over the top of Amara's knuckles. "All he ever did was hurt and belittle you," Wisteria continued softly. "Nobody deserves to be treated that way, certainly not by one's own husband...especially not one as gentle and kind as you," she said, one of her thumbs rubbing slowly over Amara's knuckles.

She was supposed to be naïve, inexperienced, clueless...yet it seemed she had outplayed them all...and she had won. With her mask in place and Amara starting to pull herself together more with each passing moment, it was starting to look like she had gotten away with her planned crime...

Now...the only thing she needed to do was wait until Eris came home so she could start the second phase of her plans.

"What did you use?" Amara asked her, her voice even.

Wisteria blinked a couple of times, surprised by the blunt question. From her experience, Amara had never asked a question so bluntly before...or a question with such a dark and difficult topic. "Pardon?" she asked, her head tilting to one side as her own fingers continued to gently rub at the top of Amara's knuckles.

"To poison him," Amara clarified, looking directly into Wisteria's own eyes as she squeezed back the younger female's hand in hers. "What did you use?"

Wisteria's eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she didn't know what to say, her hand tightening around Amara's own as her mind worked desperately to find a believable answer, a lie that sounded plausible. And then, her eyes dropped down to stare at Amara's own hands, and a thought came to her mind.

“I have no idea, what you could possibly mean,” she said carefully. “But it did look like Hemlock poisoning to me.”

Wisteria felt her heart rate quicken in her chest, but she forced herself to remain outwardly calm, her eyes lifting up so she could look at Amara again. Amara was looking straight back at her, her own eyes sharp and perceptive, the older female's expression carefully neutral. She could see that she had caught on to something...had perhaps even caught on to the truth. But Wisteria could deny that, she could deny it, and she could play it off.

Amara just huffed.

“Why?” Amara asked her. “Why take that risk?”

Wisteria swallowed hard, her heart racing even faster in her chest, but she forced herself to keep her face calm and neutral, her eyes still fixed on Amara's own.

She couldn't falter, or make any kind of mistake. If Amara decided to pursue this, if she continued to pry...her entire plan could be destroyed, all of her work and planning for nothing.

There was no mistaking the question. Despite her mask, and her neutral expression, there was something in Amara's eyes, something in her tone that made it clear to Wisteria that she knew. Amara had guessed what she had done - and she most likely suspected even more besides.

And now, Wisteria needed to answer her, and she needed to answer in such a way that would make the Lady of Autumn Court stop asking further questions about what had truly happened in the dining room tonight.

“Nobody lays a finger on my family without answering to me,” Wisteria said simply.

***

“Are you sure?” Villard, one of his commanders, asked him quietly.

Eris was standing by the tent doors, one hand bracing himself as he silently stared out over the field in front of him.

Was he sure? No. He was not sure...but he was very much afraid.

But fear, just like any other emotion, was useless to him. He clenched his fingers briefly before he spoke, his voice quiet and controlled. "I have to be sure," he said to the General.He could be afraid. He could be full of dread...but there was no turning back now.

His men, along with the men of the Autumn Court army, were waiting at camp for orders. They were waiting for him to give the orders to march. The entire army was relying on him.

He could not show them any fear. He could not show them any doubt.

And so, he took in a slow, deep breath and tried to force himself to appear as if he was completely confident in what he was about to do...even if he was far from confident. It was a risk. A gamble. He knew that.

But he needed to make it.

He needed to. The clock was ticking.

Ever since three months ago.

Since he had stood in that temple and married his mate and had pretended that she wasn’t that. He pretended that she was the wife his father had forced onto him, that he wasn’t interested in the slightest. Which was a lie. It was the biggest lie of his whole existence.

Pretending that he wasn't interested, pretending he didn't care for her...every day had been getting harder and harder.

These dark brown eyes looked at him, belying shrewd intelligence and he often wondered if she didn’t know much more than she let on.

He closed his eyes briefly and clenched his jaw, a sharp pang of pain shooting through his chest at the memories...but he could not think of that now. He had more important things to focus on.

“Yes,” he answered, grounding out the words. “I am sure.”

Sure to carry out the plan they had made…sure in the military coup he had planned. Sure to show up at the forest house gates with an army in tow and kill his father, take that crown that was his by right through blood.

“But it feels like a mistake.” He admitted, his voice just loud enough for the commander to hear his words. “That I'm leading us all to our deaths.”

His head turned slightly, enough so he caught a glimpse of the expression on Villard’s face while still staring out over the field.

He saw worry, and concern...but he also saw loyalty and determination. Loyalty to him.

"You're overthinking this, General," Villard said, and the firm, quiet tone in his voice caused Eris to turn his head fully and look at him. "You're leading your men into a battle. You're preparing yourself for a war. Any General in your position would feel the same as you do. This is how it's supposed to be. But this coup is our best, our only option. And you've never gone into a fight scared before-" because he had never had anything to fear at all before, "...and you're not going to start now. 

"But I-" Eris tried to speak, but his protestation was cut off by Villard’s next words, as blunt and serious as always.

Villard didn't bother to mince his words. Never had. "If you continue to doubt yourself and hesitate, then you're going to get your men killed, General," he said bluntly. "Your army is waiting for you to lead them. You are one of the best Males I have ever served under, and I have faith in you...and they do, too. Do not make me doubt my faith in you."

Villard was right.

"Tomorrow," Eris finally said. "Tomorrow at dawn."

Villard nodded his head once in agreement.

Tomorrow at dawn. Tomorrow, they would be marching. Tomorrow, they would be riding to the Forest House...to confront Beron.

Eris took in a deep, shuddering breath as if he was trying to convince himself that he was really going through with it. He could not back down now. He couldn't second-guess himself anymore. They were doing this, they were actually doing this.

And then...then he felt it.

Felt the whole foundation of Prythian shudder and shake...could feel the magic in the air.

The High Lord's Magic fell onto his shoulders like a ton of bricks.

The reality of what had happened, of what this meant hit him, and for a moment, he didn't breathe.

His father was dead. The power and the magic that came with that fact were now his. That crown that he had dreamed about for so long, that crown that had eluded him for centuries was now sitting on his head.

Eris Vanserra was the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

He tried to breathe, tried to make himself feel steady again. He couldn't falter. Not now.

He clenched his hands briefly, his shoulders rolling back as he tried to adjust to the new, sudden power that he could feel thrumming inside him, the magic flowing through him in a way he hadn't known was possible.

It was both thrilling and terrifying. Thrilling in the power itself...and terrifying for what it now meant.

He had no time to adjust, though, and no time to marvel. They had to ride. They had to get to the forest house and get there now.

"You felt that," Villard spoke beside him, a near imperceptive shake in his voice "Didn't you?"

The question caused Eris to snap back to the situation.

His eyes met Villard’s own for a brief moment, his head moving down in a short, nearly imperceptible nod. “I did,” he spoke, his voice just loud enough for the man next to him to hear.

There was little point in trying to hide the fact that he had just felt the power that came with becoming High Lord. There was little doubt that the whole army had...that the entire forest had just felt that sudden change.

A murmur ran through the army behind them, an ever growing, steady hum of voices and whispers, a murmur that had started the moment the shockwave of magic had raced through the camp.

There could have been no doubt who that earthquake of magic had been. Nor who had just become High Lord as a result of it.

"High Lord," Villard murmured, dropping to his knees before him.

All around them, the entire army was dropping to their knees, the soldiers in the army lowering themselves onto the ground as the murmur of voices became a steady, quiet chant of the title.

High Lord. High Lord. High Lord…

Eris stared out over the camp as his men, his soldiers, knelt before him.

High Lord. High Lord. His mind repeated the words as he swallowed hard.

He felt a little like he was floating. A little like this was all a bad dream, and that any moment he was going to wake up and find it all a lie.

High Lord of the Autumn Court. This was the dream that he had longed for. This was what he had been working for, planning for...and it was here, now.

It was time now. Now. They wouldn't wait until Dawn.

That first action of that High Lord's magic thrumming underneath his skin was to winnow a whole legion of warriors straight to the doorstep of The Forest House. It was a drop in the sudden ocean of power at his disposal…to winnow a group of his most trusted soldiers.

The Wards bend for him with nary a thought.

They and Eris himself appeared at the entryway of the Forest House, standing in front of the imposing building as his eyes immediately shot to the top of the building as if trying to spot a light in a window, or a silhouette behind the window panes of the second floor.

He wondered if she could feel it if she was watching from a window.

He turned and looked at Villard - his General now - and gave a short, sharp nod. The first step in this coup was to secure the Forest House. And then, the rest could happen.

There was no time to linger. No time to look over the house or let the enormity of the situation hit him. They had to move now. Every second counted.

The army rushed forward, the legion splitting up through the doors of the house. They needed to secure every room in the house. Every hallway, every room, every possible place his brothers could be hiding in, preparing for a fight.

Eris stayed behind in the main hallway, staring up at the grand staircase in front of him as his magic thrummed in his veins, waiting for one of his brothers to try and do something stupid.

None did.

It was actually...surprisingly easy.

Servants and staff fell down to their knees as they passed him, as he made his way upstairs...

Hemlock poisoning, one servant had blurted out. The healer are already seeing to…the body. The poison was in the Apple Cider you received as a wedding gift from Duke Hector, High Lord… 

Eris tried not to let the easy way in which everything was working out bother him, tried not to let the calm and quiet of the house make him more suspicious...and tried to not think about the easy death his father had ended up having.

Hemlock poisoning.

He clenched his hand into a fist at his side, the only outward sign he let himself show as he headed up the stairs to the second level of the house.

His wife and his mother were sitting in their living room. Having tea. Like they hadn't just witnessed the death of his father not even an hour earlier.

Eris paused in the doorway, a frown on his normally impassive face as he took in his mate and his mother - sitting on opposite couches in the living room with tea between them.

There was a calm air about both of them as if they hadn’t just felt the house shudder from the death of his father, as if they hadn’t sensed the change of High Lord. 

A faint sense of bemusement filled him as he watched her move, as Wysteris' dark red dress swished around her legs as it nearly skimmed the floor.

Wisteria's head snapped towards him and she gained her feed. Long brown hair fell down her back, pins straight as usual, a golden crown weaved during the chocolate tresses. Dark brown eyes were mustering him, the dark red velvet gown she wore contrasting sharply with her ivory skin.

And then his wife, his mate, sunk into a picture-perfect curtsy. "High Lord."

She had been beautiful the very first time he had seen her, at that Masquerade Ball. One dance… one dance and he had felt the Mating Bond rippling through him. And at that moment the only thing on his mind had been that he needed to protect her. 

He had utterly failed at that. 

Because Wisteria Abinac, his mate, had been offered to him by his father on a silver platter as his future wife. 

He had tried everything to get out of marrying her. Everything to keep her as far removed from himself as he could. And he had failed. Failed, because fundamentally, Eris was a selfish male. He had told himself that disagreeing too much was just going to result in people giving Wisteria a second look, and so had only groused and complained enough not to have it be completely out of character. 

And then he had married her. 

Eris had married her. And he had known that if anybody found out that Wisteria was his mate…she was the easiest way straight to him. The easiest pressure point to exploit. 

Eris couldn't have that. Not right now. So instead of actually being a proper husband to his mate…he had just started plotting right then and there to finally get rid of his father. 

Wisteria didn't look surprised to see him here or to see the army of soldiers that filled the halls behind him. No, when she had turned to look upon him, all he had seen in her eyes was knowledge. She knew exactly why he was here.

"Wife," he answered her, a quiet acknowledgement of her words and her curtsy, his own eyes sweeping over her form. "Are you...well?" he asked her. It wasn’t everything he wanted to ask her. It was so far from what he wanted to do. 

What he wanted was to sweep her up in his arms and whisper apologies against her skin, admit everything to her and… He couldn’t do this right now. 

"I didn't drink any of the Apple Cider," she answered. "It was a wedding gift from Duke Hector...apparently seasoned with Hemlock. Thank the cauldron that neither Amara nor I drank any of it."

Hearing that his mate and his mother hadn't drunk any of the Cider was pure relief. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and the tension that had been wound tightly in him began to loosen just a little.

"Thank the Cauldron," he murmured quietly, taking a few steps into the room. Behind him, the army was still swarming into the second level of the house.  As he moved further into the room, his eyes swept over to his mother, taking in the picture of calm she presented as she sat sipping her tea from the couch.

"Mother," he greeted her, a slight incline of his head to the female. "Are you unharmed?"

The older female nodded at his question, sipping her tea again before she spoke in a calm, measured tone. "I didn't drink any of the Cider either," she told him, and the knowledge that she hadn't had a sip of the Hemlock-spiked drink helped set his mind at ease, at least somewhat. Even when she seemed nearly…absent. At least she was alive. At least she was safe.

Everything else…they could deal with everything else. 

It was probably the shock, he reasoned. It was probably…

Eris inhaled a breath, trying to take a moment to steady himself. He needed to be calm, he needed to be emotionless. Which was seemingly impossible, because Wisteria grasped his hand in hers.

"You will need to appear in the Throne Room," she said calmly. "For the proclamation. Let me find you something to wear."

He paused when she grasped his hand, his eyes flickering to her face with a bewildered expression for a moment before he managed to shove that expression away behind his mask again. Wisteria seemed all too calm for the circumstances as if everything going on was a minor event instead of what it really was.

"Throne Room," he confirmed, squeezing his wife's hand back once before releasing it. "Yes, I need clothes."

Wisteria let go of his hand, and he mourned the loss of her touch, as she headed towards the bedrooms, probably to rummage through the clothes in there.

Meanwhile, his mother continued to sit there, sipping her tea like nothing was happening at all.

Eris paused, standing in the middle of the room and staring at her for a few seconds. Something was off...there was something odd about how she was sitting there like she wasn't the least bit bothered by the fact that there was an army in her house and her husband had just died. Did she...did she know what was happening?

His mother raised her eyes up to meet his gaze, a hint of sadness in her eyes to tell him that she did, in fact, know what was happening. Of course, she was sad...and yet, there was a slight sense of understanding as well.

"Go," his mother said, resting her cup on the saucer as she spoke. "Let Wisteria get you ready. Your brothers will soon realise what is going on. You don’t have time to linger here."

Eris’ eyes flickered back to where his mate had disappeared. Wisteria reappeared moments later. She moved efficiently, seemingly uncaring about the fact that an army was in the house, or that her father-in-law was dead. That she had watched him die. 

His mother didn't move, didn't even rise from her spot by the couch, continuing to sip her tea as if it was a normal afternoon. 

Eris forced himself to turn, his teeth clenching together tightly.

His wife held out the jacket for him to slip into. She had chosen a deep red brocade jacket for him to wear, one edged with golden thread at the wrists and the collars. He was quite certain that he had never seen it before. 

Wysteria slipped the coat around his shoulders, pulling the jacket around his form and buttoning it closed. Her touch was grounding, even as he needed to hold himself back. It was the most intimacy he had ever allowed himself to have with his mate. 

The brocade was heavy, the cut of the material clearly made for a High Lord. His wife fussed with the jacket for a few moments as he stood and watched her, before she stepped back with a small nod, looking him up and down.

"How do I look?" he asked her, a note of dry humour in his voice even as he spoke the question, even as he allowed a small, sardonic smirk.

He was to go and make his formal proclamation as High Lord, and here he was with his wife fussing over him, straightening his collar, adjusting the way his jacket sat on his shoulders, pulling at the end of his sleeves to adjust the fit. He could almost say the situation was bizarre if it wasn't so damn serious.

Wisteria tilted her head to the side lightly, her lips tilting up in a small smile that damn near took his breath away as she took him in from head to toe, looking him over.

"Like a High Lord," she finally spoke. Wisteria took a step in closer to him, reaching up and tucking a loose piece of hair back into his hairstyle. "Like you were always meant to be."

She took his arm before he could offer it, the perfect Lady at his side.

She was the picture of a perfect wife as she moved to stand at his side, and as he looked down at her, he knew that they would look every bit the High Lord and Lady as they strode through the hallways.

This was where they were both meant to be. This was who they both were, down to their bones.

That proclamation went painlessly.

He had expected something....but nothing happened. Absolutely nothing.

Even his brothers behaved. Though that may was thanks to Wisteria’s eyes that were keeping them pinned in place as she sat on the throne beside him. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, at his wife, his mate, at the long, pin-straight hair, her spine held straighter than a rod of iron, the elegant arch of her neck and cheekbones. She looked so regal, so composed...She was beautiful.

The dark red velvet sharply contrasted with her skin, with the flowers that grew up in gold thread over her skirt and sleeves...

Flowers. Flowers. Flowers for a female who had been born into the Abinac Family. Known as the Grain Keepers of Autumn. Known as...known for their keen interest in botany.  The garden that Wisteria kept...the garden she kept to have medicinal herbs grow, all tucked away in the little glasshouse that had been his wedding present for her…

The one thing he could give her that...that was just a hint of his feelings for her. For this beautiful being that had come into his life when he had least expected it.

But the herbs…the…

She wouldn't have done this…Right?

She wouldn't have. There was no...Just because his father had been poisoned by Hemlock...that wouldn't...

A frown pulled at his lips as he took in the serene expression on his wife's face, the soft smile that was there as she sipped on her drink.

She was calm, composed, and perfect. Just like the Lady of the Court was supposed to be.

Hemlock Poisoning…Hemlock Poisoning in the Apple Cider that had been a wedding present to them…From the Ancient Duke Hector that had ended up succumbing to his fever weeks after their wedding…

That…

Duke Hector had disagreed with his father politically on numerous occasions. But he had been a good male. Too good a male for the treacherous Autumn Court…He wouldn’t have….Eris could simply not imagine that he would attempt an assassination. 

But apparently he had. 

His mother. His mother knew.  She was too calm. Too collected. Too…

His wife was too relaxed. She was too at ease. She had seen his father die in front of her, yet there was barely a flicker of emotions on her face.

But why. Why would...

But that was the question, wasn't it? Why would his wife conspire to kill his father, the High Lord?  Only to put him on the throne?

And it had been stupidly dangerous what she had done. Hemlock was fatal. There was no antidote. If she or his mother had drunken even a drop of that Apple Cider…they would have both died. 

Why take such a risk?!

That was the question, wasn't it? That was the question that was running through his mind, over and over again.

Why?

Why had Wisteria done this? Why had she poisoned the Apple Cider, knowing that all of them would be drinking it? That she herself had almost drunk from it?

Why.

There was no clear reason, no possible answer that came to mind...unless...

It made him want to get up from her throne, scoop her in his arms, and get her as far away as he could.

Unless this wasn't because of a clear-cut desire for power. Unless this was something more personal, more...driven. Unless there was a deeper motive behind this.

He kept his mouth shut. 

Eris waited until the night wore on until the night was late when they retired to their room for the night. They had always slept in separate rooms, a custom that they had followed even when they had shared a bed the night of their wedding.

Tonight, however, he had no intention of following that custom. He was going to find out why his wife had poisoned the cider, why his mother seemed so unsurprised at his father's death, and why everything had been so damn easy for him to become High Lord.

He followed her to her room, and if she was surprised by his act...she didn't show it.

They had never shared a bed. He had never laid a finger on her. There were some lines that even Eris wasn’t willing to cross. Not when she didn't even know that they were mates. Not when...

He threw up a shield, encompassing just the two of them and then grasped her hand tightly, pulling her to him so that she needed to face him.

Her dark eyes widened, the first sign of surprise he had seen on her face in hours. The look of surprise didn't linger for long as a mask of composure slipped back into place, and the calm gaze was back on her features, watching him emotionlessly.

Still, he had to give her credit for managing to school her expression so quickly.

"You killed him."

He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected. Wisteria to stare at him wide-eyed, for her to become hysterical, for her to assure him that she hadn’t…

But he hadn’t expected the confirmation. “Yes,” Wisteria said, meeting his eyes, her chin held high. There wasn't even the slightest hint of remorse on her face, not a sliver of guilt anywhere in her features as she confirmed his accusation. “And I would do it again.”

"You poisoned the Apple Cider," he half-snarled at her, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "You poisoned it with Hemlock."

She shrugged her shoulders lightly, almost like this was a normal conversation to her. 

"I did," she answered his accusation. No excuses, no explanations, just flat confirmation.

Eris gritted his teeth together, his muscles tensing with barely concealed anger as he listened to his wife speak with such a calm tone. 

"Why," he bit out in a low, strangled voice. He needed an explanation, a reason, anything that might give him some idea as to why his wife had murdered his father.

She looked him in his eyes again, her gaze unwavering as she stared at him unblinkingly. For a moment, he thought that she wouldn't give him an answer, that she would simply stand there, staring him down in her usual, calm manner.

But she spoke, her voice as emotionless as her expression.

"Because you were too sentimental," she said. "He was bleeding our court dry. He was hurting your mother. He was hurting you."

A shocked breath left him. His hands relaxed slightly, the muscles in his shoulders loosening a little as the rage within him simmered. "What if my mother had drunk that apple cider?" he hissed at Wisteria. “What if you did? You could have killed both of you! There is no antidote to Hemlock.”

"There isn't," Wisteria agreed. "But you can grow an immunity to it."

"Are you telling me that you have been slowly poisoning yourself and my mother for the last 3 months?!?!" He asked incredulously, disbelief and horror colouring his wife. She had knowingly poisoned herself?! 

She had...she had slowly been building an immunity to Hemlock. 

"You were poisoning yourself" he managed to croak out, disbelief and anger mixed in his tone. "You were poisoning both of you!”

Her lips tugged into the hint of a smirk at his words, a reaction she never showed usually.

"Yes." Her voice was as emotionless as ever as she spoke. She could've been talking about the weather, it was almost eerie. There was no hint of regret for poisoning her and his mother, not a hint of remorse for the way she had planned his father's death. "I fed your mother and me tea spiked with a tiny amount of Hemlock so if we ingested a bigger amount, nothing would happen.” 

"Why, in the Mother's name, why would you do that," he managed to half-yell out, his hands clenching into fists again.

"Well, only like that I could fault Duke Hector for it," his wife answered, like the answer was obvious. "He's dead, so nobody will get his head cut off for treason.” She said that, like clearly that was the perfect, reasonable answer. 

Eris stared at her, dumbfounded, trying to string together everything she had just told him, trying to make sense in his head.

She had poisoned his father, using a method that only she could survive, and then left a paper trail to frame Duke Hector for the murder. It was...it was brilliantly done.

The level of planning, of patience, it had to have taken her months to plot all this out.

And she had been quicker than him. He wasn't sure if he should be furious at her, or impressed.

It was a perfectly executed, perfectly planned scheme. She had poisoned his father, knowing that she and his mother were the only ones who could drink the poisoned Apple Cider and survive it, and had set up the path so that it ended in Duke Hector being framed.

"Why," he asked her in a strangled tone, his tone strangled with conflicting emotions as he desperately tried to make sense of what had happened. "Why go through all this trouble? Why, in the Mother's name, why go through all this? Why kill my father?"

She just looked at him for a moment. "There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, mate."

His breath stopped in his throat as he stared at his mate in shock, his eyes widening as she spoke.

"What did you just say?" He asked her, half-expecting her to change her answer, to give him a different response.

Her lips tugged up in a slight, crooked smirk as she looked back at him, her eyes flickering with a hint of...something that he couldn't put his finger on. "You heard me, mate." She stepped in, moving closer towards him, her footsteps silent against the carpet. "There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, even if it meant killing your father."

"You knew," he croaked out.

Wisteria knew. She had known...since gods only knew when. When he had tried to keep away from her...when he had tried to get out of that arranged marriage…

His back tensed and his muscles clenched as he stared at his wife, every single moment he remembered of the two of them from the last three months running through his mind as he listened to her words.

Wisteria had known. The whole time, she had known that they were mates.

"Since that Masquerade Ball, actually," Wisteria admitted brightly. "I decided that I was going to marry you then."

The words stunned him, the statement stealing the breath from his lungs and causing his muscles to tense with surprise.

She had known.

Since the moment they met…it was…She had planned and plotted out everything since then. And he had had no idea.

"You knew." Eris could only stare at her in wonder.

"I knew I was going to marry you and that I would kill your father," she said with a shrug. "He deserved worse."

"Why," he asked again in a strangled tone, his mind still reeling, trying to process the information that she had given him. "Why, in the cauldron’s name, would you go through all this trouble, all this damn planning, simply because you knew that we were mates?"

***

It had been a long time since she had seen him look so...baffled. She always enjoyed it when she managed to get a reaction out of him, and this was the best one to date.

Wisteria reached forward, resting her hand on his chest, feeling the hard muscle under his shirt, feeling the steady thump of his heart. She could feel the tension in him, the way his muscles were tensed as he stared down at her with an expression that was so deliciously lost.

"I told you, there is nothing that I wouldn't do for you."

Her fingers curled slightly against his shirt, resting atop his beating heart, feeling the steady thumping of his heart against her palm.

"You were too sentimental." She reminded him, staring up into his eyes, into his beautiful, green orbs. "You wanted to spare your father, despite all the suffering he put you through. You wanted to let him live, despite how he had made your and your family's lives a living Hel."

"You were being too damn soft, too nice." She told him with a slight, crooked smirk, pressing her body closer to his, closing the gap between them until their bodies were pressed together. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, feel the way his muscles tensed as he stared back at her. "That is what made me decide to murder that worthless bastard."

"I was going to slice his throat tomorrow," Eris said suddenly, catching the back of her head, making it impossible for her to get out of his grasp. "I was planning a military coup. It would have been perfect. If somebody didn't decided to ruin it for me."

Her lips twisted into a smirk at his words, her dark eyes flashing with a hint of challenge as she looked up at him. She didn't try to struggle or break free, enjoying the feel of his fingers digging into the back of her hair, the warmth of his body as he kept her from escaping.

"Like I said, too sentimental," she drawled at him, her smirk widening when she saw his expression flicker.

"Says the female that said she would do everything for me," Eris disagreed. "Who killed my father because she didn't like the way he talked to me in public."

She arched her eyebrow at his words, her smirk widening yet again when she saw him grit his teeth together in irritation. She leaned in, her body flush with his chest, her nose almost touching his chin as she looked up at him.

"That's because you're mine," she told him fiercely. "You don't think I would kill him for insulting you? For the way he abused both you and your mother?"

Her breath brushed against his chin, her body pressed tight against his, feeling his fingers dig into her scalp as he held her tight.

"What, do you think I'm just going to sit there and let somebody insult my mate?" She asked him in a tone that was barely above a hiss, her eyes narrowing slightly in irritation.

He growled, the low sound echoing through his chest, and she couldn't help but shiver involuntarily in response. The sound he made was deep, primal, possessive, and it made her shiver all the way down to her core.

"I'll kill anybody that ever insults you," she told him in a low tone, the words almost a promise, and she felt his body tense even more in response to her vow.

It was a true statement too. She fully intended to kill anybody that insulted him. Her mate. She would tear apart anybody that put even a single, verbal finger on him.

His fingers tightened yet again against the back of her head, his hold on her almost painful. She didn't try and loosen his grip, but instead, her lips tugged up in a crooked smirk as she angled her chin up to look into his eyes. Her whole body was pressed against his, her skin burning wherever his hard chest pressed against her.

Their faces were only mere inches apart, her breath brushing against his chin, her mouth a hair's breadth away from his. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her body tingling wherever he touched her, wherever his body was pressed against hers.

It was a wonder that her legs didn't give out under her. She was burning, her body practically buzzing with heat, her blood singing with something primal, something almost feral. Everything about him in this moment seemed to overwhelm her, seemed to consume her.

"If you ever, ever do anything as idiotic as dosing yourself and my mother with Hemlock again, I'll kill you," he breathed.

Her breath caught in her throat at the low threat in his voice, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked up into his eyes. There was a dark, almost dangerous look in his eyes as he stared down at her, the threat in his voice sending a shiver down her spine, making her breath catch yet again in her throat. It was enough to make it feel as though she were drowning in something almost primal, something that she had never felt before. Her whole body was thrumming, her muscles tense, her blood singing.

"You are my mate." And finally he said the words she had longed to hear from him for months. "You are my mate. The next time you plot to kill anybody, you'll come to me so I can help you hide the body."

Her heart thundered in her chest at his words, the possessiveness in his tone making her head swim, making her body burn as a shiver ran down her spine for a completely different reason.

And for the first time in her life, she actually felt like the world paused for a moment, like time itself had froze around her, as she looked up at her mate and her mind struggled to process the fact.

She had, actually managed to make her mate declare her as his.

Her plan had worked. "Do you understand me, Wisteria Vanserra? You are my wife, my mate, the Lady of this Court. You'll come to your High Lord and you'll tell him all about your homicidal plans."

Her mind was still reeling from his words, her eyes wide as she looked up at him, but she managed to nod in response to his order. Her muscles trembled slightly, her heart practically hammering in her chest. 

"Good."

The praise made her breath catch in her throat, her body trembling slightly as she stared up into those beautiful, green eyes of his. Her blood was singing, her body practically trembling with the need to get closer to him, to feel his hands, his body against her own. 

And then he kissed her. There was nothing sweet about the way he kissed her. It was teeth and tongue and heat and...

Yes. This was what she wanted, what she had been aching for months to feel. His mouth on hers was like fire, his tongue hot and desperate against hers as they kissed each other. It was like a dam had broken, like all the tension, all the frustration was finally being released through this kiss. 

The world melted around them, the world faded into nothing, all her senses, all her focus zeroing in on the feel of him, of the hard planes of his chest against hers, of her own body feeling like it was vibrating, like she was burning up from the inside out. Everything faded away into this burning, beautiful, heat with his hands on her, with his mouth against her's, nothing mattering but the two of them. 

The world melted around them, the world faded into nothing, all her senses, all her focus zeroing in on the feel of him, of the hard planes of his chest against hers, of her own body feeling like it was vibrating, like she was burning up from the inside out. Everything faded away into this burning, beautiful, heat with his hands on her, with his mouth against her's, nothing mattering but the two of them. 

A gasp escaped her as she felt his mouth on her throat, his tongue tracing over her, burning a trail down her skin as he spoke against her. She arched her neck instinctively, letting him have better access to her neck, her breath catching as he spoke.

Her fingers reached out, desperate, her hands grabbing at his shoulders, his back, her fingers digging in and curling, grasping at him, trying to pull him even closer to her, trying to feel more of him, more of his hard, muscled chest, more of his hot skin against her's. 

She was drowning in him, in the heat that was burning them both, in the fact that he was actually holding her, actually holding her like this, that he was actually her's just as much as she was his. Her mind was practically incoherent, her whole body burning, her blood singing in her veins with a primal, possessive need. 

And the look in his eyes as he looked at her...he was beautiful, he was wild, and he was hers. And she would slaughter anybody that got in their way. 

She'd tear the world apart for him and with him. 

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part I

Word count: 3600+

Warnings: mentions of blood, body remains; reader is from Hewn city (I believe that says enough about what to expect here)

Note: I'm posting this just because I'm curious if there would be anyone interested in this story. There won't be next chapter any time soon, not until the rest of Heal me is up. Hopefully I won't need to pretend it's oneshot😮‍💨

Declaration: I hate dancing and have zero knowledge about it, so excuse the lack of description or any vagueness in that part. I tried to look things up, I swear, but the unstoppable rolling of my eyes made it hard to focus🤷

Dividers by amazing @tsunami-of-tears

Part II

A male slowly stepped out of the darkness, the pale face lifted up. His amber eyes found yours, gazing straight into them with hate, all-consuming fire blazing in his irises. His unbounded long red hair flew around him, dancing in the air as flames. He was scary but handsome. Then his mouth twisted into a sadistic grin came in focus and you cried out in fear. His white teeth were covered in blood, streams of it running down his chin, dripping on the front of his shirt.

Blood was dripping even from his long fingers with sharp nails of predator. Down at his feet lay remains of a body, pile of flesh and broken bones, burned so badly that nobody could recognize the person whom it belonged to.

His grin widened and he suddenly dashed forward towards you, his hand reaching for your throat.

You jolted up in dimly lit carriage, cold sweat covering your body. Thankfully, you were all alone and nobody saw you or heard you. This nightmare haunted you almost every time you closed your eyes ever since you were told that you would marry a new High Lord of Autumn Court.

You were born and raised in Hewn city, the cruellest place known to fae world where it was lucky to be born as a male. Unfortunately, you were a female which meant that you were a toy in hands of your father who was just as brutal as that whole place.

You'd spent most of your life in your room without windows, allowed to come out only when you were called or needed. You'd never seen a daylight until this day. Growing up you were often punished whether you did something wrong or not, because you were just a weak female, a possession that could be sold if the offer was high enough. That's how you ended up betrothed to the Heir of Autumn Court on the first place.

You didn't know why you were chosen. You had never spoken with him nor met him in person. You saw him only from afar when he came to Hewn city to negotiate with Keir and later at a ball organized by your High Lord where he danced with one of the High Lady's sisters. It was quite an interesting show and he seemed to be smitten by her.

You watched that all from your dark alcove where you were exposed for the chosen ones but otherwise hidden from prying eyes of others. You weren't allowed to participate directly. You weren't even allowed to talk with other guests. The ball was a market and you were the goods.

However, the horrific rumours about the Heir got to your ears nevertheless. You heard all stories about his cruelty and punishments that he loved to deliver, and later even the stories about how he killed his father and became a High Lord. None of them was a good one, but he wasn't judged here. In Hewn city, he was admired for his rigour. Every male wanted to be like him, every female either feared she would catch his eye or longed for that.

You, for sure, didn't belong to the second group. You didn't want to get married at all. All you dreamt about, was freedom, the possibility to go and do whatever you wanted, but that was out of question for you. You were just a puppet that danced only when a male pulled the strings. Now you were a property of your father who had planned to sell you for the highest offer from the day you were born, and soon enough you would became a property of your husband. You were nothing, you didn't count.

You were aware of the offers that piled on your father's desk. They started coming when you turned 15, but your father had waited. You didn't know what he did or who he spoke to, when suddenly a marriage proposal came from Autumn Court soon after your 18th birthdays. He didn't hesitate this time and immediately accepted. He couldn't get any higher offer than from the future High Lord himself, could he.

If you thought your life was a torture before, after that it became a hell. Whole year you spent learning all kinds of manners that wife of male with such high position had to know. They taught you what your place in the court and in the private would be, what you had to do to keep it, they beat it into you, breaking you again and again until there were no errors and you were perfectly submissive.

You also had to become an outstanding dancer because your future husband seemed to have a special interest in dance. Even now your toes were still bleeding into your shoes as your last lesson ended right before the departure.

In every aspect you had to be perfect and worthy of High Lord of Autumn. Lady of Autumn Court, your future husband's mother, was given to you as a model of such a perfect wife. Quiet, obedient, representative, beautiful.

Perfect doll to be ruined by her husband when no one was looking.

You feared the future but you had no choice.

You slightly moved the curtain to look out and see the bits of the country behind the window. Because of the nap you lost track of time. Your heart squeezed in dread when you found out you were already in a forest full of red and yellow and golden brown leaves. You had never seen an autumn foliage with your own eyes, but even you with your limited knowledge knew that these were colours of Autumn. You were getting closer to your final ordeal.

It took another hour or two and carriage stopped. Before you could reach for the doorknob, the door flew open and your father's always angry face came to view.

"Get out now," he ordered. He seemed to be in quite a good mood today.

You immediately moved closer to the door and get off. Your heels clicked on the sandstone in the courtyard of a beautiful castle, but you had no time to look around as father shoved you to the entrance. Bowing your head, you submitted.

At the gate you were welcomed by High Lord's advisor, a male with rather a cool demeanour, and some maids who took you to the chamber where you were supposed to get ready and wait until the ceremony began. You didn't bother to even try to lift your gaze, you were too scared to look at people directly. Whenever you dared to look at someone, most of them had no face in your eyes, only an empty mask. You distinguished people mainly by their voices.

You felt your father staring after you coldly as you silently followed the maids, his gaze felt like a sharp knife poking into your back. You were scared he would follow you because you were his priced ticket to wealth now, but soon he turned around and walked away with the advisor in the opposite direction.

Maids were quiet and quick as they helped you to bath and dress. They skilfully braided your long hair into a complicated hairstyle, attached the veil to it, letting it fall down and cover your face. When they were done, with a slight bow they left.

You let out a breath that you didn't even know you'd been holding the entire time they were hopping around you. Nobody bothered to inform you how much time you had left, but it didn't matter anyway. You couldn't run away from your fate.

You were sitting at the vanity table where they left you, looking at the ground as you were taught, your mind empty. You couldn't even mourn the life that you never had and never would have. They successfully turned you into a puppet, a blank canvas ready for your husband to paint on.

Soft knock sounded on the doors and a female's voice called that it's time. You slowly stood up with bowed head and stepped out from the chamber. Small maid led you through corridors and halls to a chapel.

You'd like to look around, wanting to see at least something of your wedding day worth of memorising it, but your father was already waiting for you, angrily tapping his foot.

"Good for nothing as usual," he grunted. "How long do you think we have to wait for you?"

"I'm sorry, father," you said in a small voice.

"Speak properly! You are like your mother, useless. Thankfully from now on, you will be your husband's burden."

He offered you an arm and you immediately took it not wanting to make him any more angry. Together you got ready at the threshold and as music started to play you stepped inside.

The chapel seemed to be quite spacious, full of warm light and crowded with guests. As you walked to the altar you caught glimpses of gold, yellow and white decorations. Your father halted, a pair of shiny black boots stepped closer. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that your father was smiling kindly. You were shocked. It was the first time you saw such expression on his cruel face.

Your father said something to that male and he answered. Your heart was beating so fast and loudly that you hardly heard the music. Father took your hand and offered it to the male who surprisingly gently accepted it. Fingers that wrapped around yours were pale and long just as in that nightmare, but instead of icy cold you felt warmth seeping into your skin. Your father stepped away, leaving you with this male. The transaction was apparently successful.

"Can we?"

A deep voice spoke lowly, snapping you out of the new kind of darkness that began to pull you into its void. You inhaled sharply. It wasn't that deadly voice that haunted you in sleep but a quite pleasant, rich one that felt like a warm blanket, a liquid honey flowing into your ears that were used to only harsh words. Rich aroma of spicy cinnamon and apples roasted on fire filled your nose.

You nodded, still not daring to look up. He led you to the altar where a priestess was waiting for you. As you stood before her, he turned to you one more time. His fingers touched the edge of the veil, lifting it up. You kept your eyes down as you were taught.

"Look at me," he commanded softly.

Carefully, inch by inch you raised your eyes, taking in first his trousers in cream colour, then his elegant tailored moss jacket with gold details that hugged his chest perfectly. He didn't look like a mass of muscles as the general of Night Court did even though before he had the same rank. Your soon-to-be husband seemed to be rather lean, but definitely a warrior with muscles on right places. And so tall, impossibly tall, that you hardly reached up to his shoulders.

It felt like forever until your gaze finally reached his face. Like in the nightmares it was pale with bright amber eyes and high cheekbones, his nose was straight and lips full. He wasn't smiling, yet corners of his mouth seemed to be twisted in a permanent smirk. In golden rays of sun penetrating through a round window behind the altar, his red hair had a warm shade, and looked so silky that you had to wonder how it would feel to touch them. Now cut much shorter than the last time you saw him, he just casually combed them back, a few unruly strands falling on his forehead.

His eyes roamed over your face, brows lightly furrowed, then one corner of his lips lifted in a half smile. He was handsome, attractive, there was no doubt about it. You expected him to have the cool, cruel aura you noticed before and he didn't disappoint, but as you were watching him for a while, in his eyes there was something you'd never seen before. Perhaps it was kindness, but what did you know. It was just a foreign word to you, something you never experienced.

It was confusing.

He didn't say if he liked what he saw, his expression gave nothing away. He just turned to priestess, signalling her with a nod of the head to begin the ceremony. You allowed your eyes to linger and watch his profile a little longer before your gaze again slid down to the floor. Hardly perceiving priestess's words, you returned to that quiet place in your mind where you felt safe from the world.

When the ceremony was over, Eris leaned down, gazing at you. This was the part when the groom should kiss the bride. You stayed still, expecting him to move, but he was just waiting. You looked up with silent question in eyes. As soon as your full attention was on him, he moved forward and his lips sealed over yours in a tender kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, breath caught in your throat. You expected anything from him except of this. He didn't close his eyes either, closely watching your reaction.

Eris tasted like honey and some alcohol. It was a strange combination, but not unpleasant. His lips slightly moved against yours, testing the waters and then it was over.

As if nothing had happened he straightened up and turned to the crowd, offering you an arm. You exhaled shakily, internally shouting at your body to move. You couldn't keep him waiting. Your fingers gripped on his sleeve. Still weak in your knees you could only wish that you wouldn't fall down.

His other hand went up to yours on his arm, adjusting it. Holding it firmly he tugged you closer and led you to the ballroom where the party would take a place.

Why did he behave like this? Did he genuinely care? Or did he notice your state and wanted to just prevent an embarrassing incident? He was supposed to be cruel. Everyone said that about him. Was it just some kind of masquerade and later he would make you pay for your mistakes? You were so confused and nervous.

The celebration program was simple. The ceremony was to be followed by a banquet and finally a party. When you came into the impressive ballroom decorated in the same colours as the chapel, the tables were already bending under the amount of deliciously looking food.

Eris led you to the table in the centre, a bit higher than the rest. He held a chair for you and then took a seat on your right. The other chairs were gradually filled as the guests were coming. Your father was seated at the table on your left, giving you a cold stare. Shiver ran down your spine and your heart started to beat faster. You knew that face. Whatever you had done he was very displeased right now.

Your husband inconspicuously leaned closer.

"Is everything alright?" he asked lowly, eyeing still coming guests. Did he hear your heartbeat even over this noise?

"Of course, my lord," you blushed, focusing on your hands folded on your skirt under the table.

Eris's eyes narrowed on you and then his gaze moved behind you to your father. He immediately stopped frowning at you and instead he conjured a pleasant smile at his new son-in-law. Eris made a small displeased noise and looked away.

When everyone took their seats Eris stood up to give a short speech and a toast. You took a goblet with wine but didn't drink. Could not. You weren't allowed to drink alcohol.

After your husband a dark haired male stood up to toast to newly wed couple. As he spoke you recognized the voice of your High Lord.

Nervously you swallowed.

It was unexpected, but not incomprehensible. Of course he was here. A member of his Court married his ally. This wedding was an important political event. There were certainly also other allied High Lords between the guests. The most powerful beings of this country had eyes on you. And your husband? He was one of them. Not an ordinary High Fae or some aristocrat. A High Lord.

Sudden realisation hit you hard and you felt a growing nausea, heart throbbing in your throat.

When everyone was done toasting, silent servants appeared seemingly from nowhere and started to serve the food to the plates. Not remembering when you had eaten for the last time was your last concern. You were too nervous and frightened to even think about the food right now.

Eris seemed to notice that you were just poking the vegetables with a fork around the plate, pretending you were eating as everyone around.

"Isn't the meal to your taste?" he asked with raised brows quietly.

Under the table you clenched fingers into the skirt of your dress. This male could turn you into a pile of ash if he wanted.

"Everything is delicious, my lord," swallowing hard you answered in a small shaky voice.

He just huffed and after a while returned to his plate and the conversation he had before. You bit on your lower lip. Did you offend him? Would he punish you later? You were on the verge of crying. From the other side of the table you could feel your father's angry gaze. Breathing raggedly you willed the tears back and put down the fork. Your trembling hand reached for a glass of water. Focussing on not spilling it's content, you brought it to your red painted lips and took a sip. You needed to pull yourself together, to overcome it. The show wasn't over yet.

By the time the clattering of cutlery has died down, you managed to calm down a bit. Music that played whole the time, got louder and some of the guests moved to the parquet.

Eris turned to you once again, his eyes lingering on your face. He seemed to think about something. For a brief moment his lips pursed into a thin line.

"We have to dance the first dance. It's a tradition," he spoke coldly.

"Yes, my lord."

You already knew that and you were more than ready even though your healing toes still hurt. This wouldn't be the first time you had to suppress the pain and pretend everything was okay. You could do this.

Despite the too high expectations of your teachers and father, you loved dance. It was the only quite funny activity you were ever allowed to do.

High Lord helped you to stand up and led you to the centre of the parquet. The guests created a circle around you.

Eris's warm hand heavily landed on your waist, holding you firmly, his fingers leaving marks on your skin through the corset. The sudden roughness surprised you and you slightly winced. Thankfully nobody seemed to notice it, not even your husband. Taking your other hand into his, you two took a position and started to move at the exactly same time to the rhythm of the song in a small circles. Eyes pinned to his strong chest right in front of you, you performed your best.

You moved gracefully as you were taught, small sparks in your veins slowly becoming a fire, consuming you. After the first rather stiff steps, your body relaxed and you blended in with the melody, becoming the music. The long skirt of your dress was sweeping the floor with every your step, looking like a flowing mountain stream. You loved that feeling. Eris spun you and you made a perfect pirouette so fast that you whirled two times. Someone in the watching crowd gasped in amazement, several others applauded.

If you dared to look up, you would see the fire in your husband's eyes and a wide smile. He was enjoying this, too, more than he was willing to admit.

The two of you started dancing in bigger and bigger circles, your every move faster than the last one. The crowd around had turned into a blurry smudge, but none of you minded. Eris decided to test you by changing the steps and adding figures, and you responded to every change with ease, without a mistake.

As the song was coming to its end, your husband decided to end the dance with a pretty deep dip. Your back arched under his fingers and suddenly you came face to face with him, your noses almost touching. Your eyes widened in surprise.

Two blazing amber eyes were piercing you with genuine interest, wolfish grin on his lips. His usual merciless expression was replaced by something wild, beautiful and kind of dangerous. He was mesmerising. You were definitely playing with a fire when you reached up, tips of your fingers lightly touching his jaw. Eris blinked and it was gone.

He straightened up and you followed, once again scared that you possibly made a fatal error when you touched his face.

Now all the guests were applauding. Looking around his cold gaze jumped from face to face. He didn't say anything as he bowed to you, kissing the back of your hand and then escorted you back to the table. Both of you were still heaving as you took your seats. He grabbed your glass of water and handed it to you. You thanked him to which he just responded with a nod. Then he took his empty goblet and held it out for the servant to fill it with wine. He drummed with fingers as he waited. As soon as the servant stepped back, he emptied the goblet again.

The musicians started to play another song and parquet filled with dancing pairs. When it seemed that nobody paid you attention any longer, without even looking in your direction Eris reached out under tha table, his fingers lightly brushing your arm from elbow down to your wrist. Finding your hand rested on your lap, he clasped it in his much bigger one and held it for the rest of the evening.

[gloryofroses19]

It was Inevitable

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x mate!reader

T/W: Sexual themes and allusions to sex

Amidst the ball, the Summer fae’s voice was white noise. She supposed she could figure out his name if she thought hard enough but she felt no need. She had heard enough to know that she was receiving a backhanded compliment about the treaty she helped foster between their courts. That despite the all nighters and negotiating, she was just a pretty puppet at the hands of another. 

The white noise was becoming deafening, but [y/n] supposed she should be thankful for something to focus on. Something that wasn’t the tide of fear pulling her back to the cage Under the Mountain. To the time where she was forced to be a spectacle. A time where some fae chose to revel in it all and how some haven’t forgotten it. 

“I need the emissary.” With such an assertive tone and a high status, there is no room to question. The Autumn Court heir only needed to draw her into his embrace and the interaction was over. 

[y/n] didn’t realize she was shivering until his arms folded around her shoulders, didn’t realize how cold she had become until she felt the heat of him. 

Eris doesn't talk as he guides her from the main ballroom. And for all her tenacity, she does not ask or care where they are going, so long as it was somewhere else.  

Eris had started the evening eager to push her buttons, he had grown to love to ruffle her pristine feathers. Grown hungry for the challenging fire in her [e/c] and the teasing tilt of her words. 

Because Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn court, had wanted to be the one to break her. Break her pretty mask of polite perfection. Break her with his mouth and hands. Break her and make her realize how this was a losing battle, that they were inevitable. Just like she broke him. 

But he did not want it like this, not by the hands of a lesser fae and not with the fear that kept her up at night. Not with a panic that left her trembling and unfocused. 

“What do you need?” His deep voice asked softly, breaking the silence between them and the stillness of the empty room.  “Firefly, answer or I will think you are purposely trying my patience.” 

“I…I think I'm going to have a panic attack.” She whispered, tucking herself into Eris’ arms. Arms that she had never allowed herself to rest in more than the length of a kiss on the hand or the duration of a dance. 

Eris didn’t need verbal confirmation of something he felt in his bones. She had been panicking from the moment that Summer fae approached her. He didn’t need their bond, their fragile yet persistent bond, to carry her fear to him. He knew it from the moment he gazed upon her and saw a fear he knew well.   

“Tell me, I’m okay, tell me they can’t touch me, remind me that I'm safe.” Speaking in shallow  breaths, [y/n] leaned further into Eris’ embrace. The smell of pine and ash never felt like home until their bond snapped and [y/n] was never more thankful for it than in that very moment. 

Their bodies pressed together, one shaped to fit the other perfectly.  

“Breath, Firefly.” The sharp command was softened by his touch. Slipping his hands under the opening in the back, Eris smoothed warm lines down her back. “Nobody will hurt you, I will ensure that.” 

Later, he will recall her shuddering breath and the way her body arched into his touch. In the darkness, he will recall how her cheek was molded for his shoulder and his hands for her waist. 

There were just so many questions to be answered, she thought breathing in the calm Eris brought. Would he come looking for her? Would she ever overcome this? Was this all a game? Why did being in his arms feel right? Would this be their downfall?  

Gripping her chin, Eris guided her gaze back to his.  “What do you need, Firefly?”  

Later, she will recall the way he felt safe and willing to burn the world for her. Willing to make the world nothing but smoke and ash to allow her some warmth. But in that moment, peering into his amber, all she wanted was to be enveloped in his fire. 

And so she did. 

She kisses him with a bruising force. The kiss is sharp and deep, stealing air and thoughts of nothing but each other. 

Eris is there, pressing her forward, until her back hits the nearest wall. And she is there, drawing him in until there is no space between their bodies. Letting him know that he is what she wants, that he is what she needs. 

He tastes like faint traces of woodsmoke, of a fire dying in the dark. He tastes like the forest and somehow, of destiny. 

She tastes like morning dew, of the new dawns and beginnings. She tastes like the first light in the morning and somehow, of home.

The kiss had been a long time coming, they had been testing the confines of their bond for months now. Many sleepless nights of denying their bond had given way to ghosting of hands that they wished were the others. Of touching themselves and allowing the other to know the ways to make them sing with pleasure. 

She had broken the kiss to breath but Eris stole it away. Stole it by searing a line of kisses down the column of her throat. He was an enticement, so willing and eager. She didn’t fully understand why he was doing this now, she had to understand why. 

“Why are you doing this?” she asked breathlessly, moaning loudly as he bit the space where her shoulder and collar bone met. 

“Because you are mine.” He slurs softly, muffled against her skin. Drunk off the intoxication of her, of the elation of how her dreams taught him so much, he lavishes the spot with nips and kitten licks. Marveling at the sounds he can pull from her, he thinks of his foolishness. He had thought that his father’s throne was power but she was power itself. 

Cradling his jaw, [y/n] guides his gaze to hers. Despite centuries of knowing each other and hours of being at the same party, they regard each other as if for the first time. 

“If I am yours, then you are mine.” She says, letting the possessive nature bleed into each syllable. He had once promised her Under the Mountain that she would never be anyone’s toy again and she hadn’t forgotten it. Hadn’t forgotten how his promise had become tattooed on her heart and guided her toward seeking an equal, even unaware that it was to become him. 

“I am yours, [full name],” was the earnest reply. 

Was it true? Was this their breaking? Will they finally learn that some bonds, even when not accepted, couldn't be controlled? That in the darkness of dreams and in the faelight of their teasing, theirs devolved into a passion the more they attempted to deny. As if the Cauldron was warning them that it was a futile attempt. 

And there in the faelight, she sees that peculiar shade of amber. The shade she has begun to learn was associated with her. Was it love? She didn’t know but the care of his gaze was enough for her to close the gap again. 

When their lips meet, it leaves only a burning desire to consume. There is no caution or pulling back, only hunger. They each have kissed many faes over the centuries, but none will ever compare. They know they have ruined each other. 

Grasping her left thigh, he guides it to wrap around his waist. Groaning, he bucks into the intimacy of their sexes meeting. Matching her moans with his own, Eris doesn't remember the last time he was ready to come apart so easily and so willingly. 

It was said that the Autumn fae had fire in their blood and fucked like it too and [y/n] never consider those words until this moment. She felt like she was stifling under the heat of him. The gossamer gown in her court colors resulted in too much fabric between them. His clothes had to go, she decided. Eager to see how deep the fire ran, she began unbuttoning his formal jacket and shirt. 

“If I knew it would only take a well placed bite, I would have bit you centuries ago, girl.”  A feminine lithe voice mused, halting the frenzy before her. 

“Amren.” Despite her hair spilling and bite on her shoulder aching pleasantly contrasting the ache between her legs, she was thankful her voice held strong. She wondered why she felt no shame, she should, this was her family. 

“Run along little fox,” Amren teased, tilting her glass of champagne towards the door. “The adults need to talk.” 

Eris lifts his chin, offering a cruel smile. “I prefer the monsters in my bed rather under them, care to come join us, Oh Ancient One?” 

Matching his cruel grin, Amren regards Eris, a study in disdain. “I can smell the possessive desire for her rolling off you in waves, we both know you wouldn’t share.” 

His own smile stretched and it offered no denial, his claim had been staked. For pure carnal desire or deeper bond, it did not tell. 

With a wave of a hand, Eris’ magic returned himself back to the pristine mask of an heir. “Let us play again, Emissary.” Emissary, her title, a ploy to write this off merely as a game and leave her with the explanation. 

With a deep breath, [y/n] arranged herself looking at Amren’s back as the creature watched Eris swagger off.  “I thought you would have given in to Helion before you touched that fire.” 

“It was just a kiss.” She replied coldly, attempting to use the ice to douse the lava burning inside her. 

“To that dog Cassian, yes.” Amren turned her calculating gaze at her, as if sensing the depth of their desire. “But to you? When is a kiss ever just a kiss?”

With a sigh, [y/n] knew she should have taken a page from Rhys, Az and Cass’ book and slept her way through her youth. Ignoring Amren’s pointed question, [y/n] instead focuses on glamoring the mark on her neck.  “You reek of arousal and him, you do realize? Your magic won’t hide that.” 

With a final check that she was presentable, [y/n] walked toward the door. 

Amren was a creature of nightmares and nightmares didn’t like to be ignored. “I see the ways his eyes follow you!”

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated! Special thanks to Bridgette @thedeviltohisangel who is always providing the best inspiration.

[stormhearty]

Pairings: Eris x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Triggers: pining, reader being shot by arrows, mentions of bloodshed and killing

Summary: Eris watched as your body lay still in the large bed, healing from the poisonous arrows that had penetrated your body. The Autumn Heir is reminded that, no matter how much he loves you, you will always be in danger if you stay around him. Now he has to make a choice… whether to keep you in his arms and protect you with his fire or to unlock the cage and let you go free.

Note: Based on this request! Thank you @strangelygreat for your request! I love this so much. I realized that I never really listened to this song in its entirety. The Broadway version, “If I Can’t Love Her” has a similar feel — it has the same longing and distress. But I listened to <Evermore> and of course, I am in love. <Evermore>, Josh Groban’s version more specifically, has such a beautiful pining feeling; I listened to it while brainstorming and writing this song. This is also based on a scene from the manhwa “Secret Lady”, one which echoes this feeling of pining with angst. I loved this scene in this manhwa, and I highly suggest reading it! This will mostly be under Eris’ POV since the song is from the Beast’s POV as well.

I would suggest listening to the song either before reading this story or during, and please do tell me if I could portray the song correctly!! Or was able to portray a similar feeling to it.

Closing the door behind him with a silent click, Eris stepped into the dimly lit room, his steps leading to a familiar bed, one that held a familiar body underneath its sheets. A hand reached out to grab the back of a chair, dragging it across wooden floors, the echo of scraping wood resonating throughout the quiet room. Placing the chair next to the bed, he gracefully sat down, hands gripping the arms of the chair as amber hues stared at the rise and fall of your back.

The room had grown silent after that, the pitter-patter of rainfall against the large windows and your even breathing occupied the room. It rarely rained in Autumn Court, but lately, Eris felt like the weather matched his mood — bleak, dull, and sober. His gaze moved from your peaceful features to the bandages on your back, the blackened blood that seeped through the white cloth.

It had been a month.

A month since the day you had stepped in front of those poisonous arrows, ones covered with ash — ones that were marked towards him — and almost had your life taken away in front of his very eyes.

He watched as your eyes looked up at him, a smile tugging at your lips, the words that slipped from your lips haunting him to this day: “You're okay…”

Eris felt himself stiffen in the chair, hearing the echo of your words through his body. He felt the wood creak underneath his fingertips, his claws splinting the wood underneath them.

He could still see it — how your body slumped against his, that arrow penetrated your skin; how the blood seeped from that wound through your ball gown. He could still smell it — that blood that tricked from the edge of your mouth and onto his pristine clothes. He could still feel it — how your body slowly started to become cold in his warm hands, how your pulse slowed underneath his palm.

The scene was still vivid in his mind — a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked in Autumn Court; on the dangers that followed him. On how every single moment that you lay in this bed, barely hanging into the thread of life — was another reminder to the Autumn Heir that he had started to become selfish — especially when it came to you.

For the longest time, he had restrained himself, his feelings, his obsession when it came to you. You were a fleeting moment — he constantly told himself — one that was not meant to be caged, especially not by him. Not in the political battlefield such as Autumn Court. Not where his brothers waited in the shadows to strike him down every waking second. Not where his father was looking for any weakness to use against him as punishment.

You weren't meant to stay by him, he had concluded.

Eris knew that — from the moment he laid eyes on you, all those years ago.

How you were a breath of fresh air in his suffocating world. You were his haven… an escape from the constant pressures of his Court. He wouldn’t have minded if the world had faded away — all that mattered was you. And Eris knew, oh how he knew, and that very thought was intoxicating and dangerous. All he had wanted to do was to keep you within arm-length, to be able to whisk you away when need be.

But he couldn’t.

“(Y/N)…” Eris murmured your name in the darkness, like a lover whispering sweet nothings.

“I can tell you now…”

Amber hues stared at your sleeping form, unaware of the truth that he was about to spill. Eris knew that the walls listened, his own home against him. But he needed to get it off his chest, to let the world know.

“You were my Goddess for the longest time…”

He shifted slightly to pull pieces of porcelain from his pocket — a broken miniature statue, one that Eris had held onto for all these years. He glanced at the pieces before shifting his hand, to allow them to fall to the wooden floor, the sound barely reaching his ears.

“You were something that I could admire from far away, keeping you at arms distance. Something that I could look at and never touch, never hold. I wasn’t afraid to think of you back then… to wish and yearn for you… To miss you. I never wanted to know who you were, never wanted to know more about you. I was content with just looking.

“But, when I saw you that day… During my coming-of-age ceremony, all those centuries ago, could you imagine — - no… you could never understand how I felt that day.”

You were radiant. A bright light in his dim world. Even in a crowded room, he could spot you from a mile away. You radiated warmth, kindness… purity. Something absent in his world of hatred and betrayal.

A shaky sigh escaped his lips, a hand coming up to run through his copper locks before running down his face, pressing against his eyes to prevent the burn of tears.

“It was the first time in my entire life… I wanted nothing more to do than run.

“You were gorgeous. And for the life of me, I couldn’t look at you without having my heart beat frantically in my chest. I felt like my heart would jump out, for the world to see how much you had affected me.

“Was this love? Was this devotion? Did this shift of emotion mean that I could never be able to seek you out again? That I could never be able to think freely of you? I didn’t know. And I didn’t want to.

“I thought that I would be able to manipulate myself into not loving you. How could I? I didn’t know you… all I had loved was what I could see on the outside. I thought I could manipulate myself into thinking to not fall in love with someone I did not know.

“I had thought it would be easy. I rarely saw you, except on passing occasions… Superficial words of greetings in loud halls. It was fine, for centuries, for me to just silently yearn for you. To allow myself not to hold you tight…”

A broken laugh paused his monologue, his hand dropping back onto the arms of the chair as he looked at you. He shifted out of the chair and moved to sit at the edge of the bed close to your form. Eris reached over, wanting nothing more than to feel your skin underneath his hand — to ensure you were still there… alive. He hesitated, his hand hovering over your back, only to move to gently grasp a piece of your hair. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on that one lock of hair.

“But that night, all those months ago, when you sought me out in the forest, knocking frantically on that small cabin door. You had sacrificed your safety to forewarn me of the assassination attempt by my brother. I knew I had to push you away, I had to keep you hidden from the prying eyes of my father and brothers. For they would know, if I had been a moment too late, pulling you in and hiding you within that closet, they would have known how much you had affected me.

“I knew that I should have let you go that night. I shouldn’t have held your hand and pulled you into that cabin. I should have let you run away from this cage I call my home.

“But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t let you go, not when you were the one who sought me out. For the first time in centuries, you were the one who looked for me.”

Fingers dropped that lock of hair, as he settled his elbows onto his knees, hands, once again, pressing against his face as the tears finally broke… cascading down his cheeks in a never-ending river. He cried in silence, afraid that any sob or cry of grief would wake you up from your slumber.

You were finally within arms grasp.

Eris could reach out and hold you in his arms, to press his lips against yours. To love you as he had wanted.

“I couldn’t lie to myself anymore, (Y/N)… I wanted more. I wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms, kiss you in the dead of night, make you moan my name as we made love… I wanted to drink up everything that you had given me. I wanted your eyes to shine only for me.

“And I regretted it so much.”

Eris felt every regret seep into his body — he regretted letting you into his life, into his world of fire.

“You mustn’t let her lay on her back—-” the priestess hummed out, as the glow from her hands faded away, fixing the bandage to cover the wound.

Eris watched, dull amber eyes staring at your face for any indications of pain. He held you in his arms, your head resting against his shoulder as the priestess healed the wound on your back.

“—-For it may fester with the moisture that can build up. You must lay her on her stomach, to let the wound breathe…” The gentle hands of the priestess ran over the wound, and Eris felt you shift in his arms, your face scrunching in pain. He felt himself growl at the priestess, amber eyes lighting in anger.

The priestess bowed in apology, “—- Her feeling pain is better than feeling nothing, my Lord.” With one last bow, the priestess swept away, passing the Lady of Autumn as the doors closed.

Eris didn’t pay attention to his mother, not when you were shivering in his arms. He sighed softly, bringing you closer to his warmth, letting the fire that breathed under his skin warm you. Fingers ran through your tangled hair, trying to undo the knots that came upon you while you were asleep.

“Why did you let (Y/N) into the Forest House?” Lady of Autumn asked her son, finally breaking up the silence of that room.

It had been a day after the incident — a day after you had taken the arrow that should have taken his life. A day since the priestess worked their magic to try to save you from the brink of death.

Eris had been nothing but a statue, forgoing his duties as the Heir of Autumn Court to just sit in that very room, watching you breathe — as if afraid that if he turned away from your body, you would disappear.

He glanced up at his mother for a moment before he leaned down to bury his head into the crook of your shoulder, the feeling and sound of your breathing calming him, reassuring him that you were still alive in his arms.

“Why did you have to —-”

“Mother…” he breathed out, interrupting her question.

Lady Autumn raised a brow, lips pressing as she allowed her son to explain.

“Imagine there is someone you wanted to protect, would do anything to protect. And you realize… that the person you wanted nothing more to protect was in danger because of you. What would you do?”

Eris shifted so he could lay you back on the bed, gently laying you down on your stomach as the priestess told him to do. He sat at the edge of the bed, tugging the bedsheet to cover your lower half, allowing your back to breathe in the cooling air.

“I would do whatever in my power… to ensure their safety…” she answered him.

Eris ran his hand down your back gently once more before he stood up, his feet dragging him over to the window as amber hues stared out into his Court.

“And that’s what I did, Mother… That night, after I had killed Tharetiur, his blood splattered on the wood of that cabin. After (Y/N) had fallen asleep in my bed, I stepped out into the night, wondering what I could do to ensure she was safe. I couldn’t let her go home, not after running for god knows how long to warn me of Tharetiur’s assassination attempt.

“… I had turned to Drucand —-” Eris’s right hand, one of the few people in Autumn Court he could trust with his life, “—-I asked him, ‘Where is the safest place in all of Prythian?’ I watched as Drucan stared at me for a moment, as if I asked a stupid question, before reaching for the holster of his sword…”

Eris remembered how Drucand pulled that holster from his waist and proceeded to hand him his sword.

“’ Heir of Autumn Court, the first son of Beron and Lady Autumn. The Heir whose blood runs with flames. The safest place… would be in your arms, with your fire and sword in hand.’”

A laugh broke out of Eris, his head shaking at the thought.

“I wanted to send her off, wanted to keep the distance between myself and her… But, I couldn’t. And I started to selfishly think that keeping her by my side, with that sword in my hand, might be the most reasonable solution to ensure her safety. I thought… that no danger would touch a hair on her head, not when I would protect her as my hounds do for me…

“But I failed… I failed, Mother…”

Eris turned around and faced his mother, tears finally breaking through his composure. His voice shook at every confession and every truth he thought knew.

“…It seemed that the Gods and the Mother above had led me to her. Fated us to be together… and yet ripped us apart the moment they thought we had gotten too close. That I had gotten too close to her. It seemed that they used her… her kindness, her warmth, her love… as punishment for me and my discretions…”

Eris believed with his whole being that you were his eternal punishment — for forgetting his promise to forget you, to punish him for yearning for you. Your kiss with death… was his punishment for falling in love with you.

The Heir watched as his mother let out a light sob before rushing towards him, holding him in her arms as he broke — as he finally broke. Eris sobbed, his body collapsing onto the ground in the arms of his mother, his hands wrapping around her as he grasped her shoulders, his body shuddering and breaking.

All because he had failed to protect you.

Amber eyes focused on your body once more, as he slipped out of the memory, the tears drying on his cheeks, determination in the depths of his eyes.

“(Y/N)… I had brought you into my life out of a momentary desire. A want, a selfish want, rather than a need. You were no longer the Goddess that I could bask in your light and warmth. You became a person — a living, breathing person — someone who cried and smiled… someone who showed your heart on your sleeve despite living in a Court that could use that against you.

“You showed me that you were like me, alive. I got to know you, your little habits — how you would bite your nails in concentration, how you would fiddle with the ends of your hair when you were nervous. You were an open book — one that I read so easily and greedily.”

How could he resist falling in love with you?

He couldn’t.

Not when you had accepted his flaws, accepted the darkest side of him — and in the end never turned your back on him. You had stuck next to him, in the horrors of his own Court, sticking out your neck for him every second.

How could he not fall in love with you and declare to let you leave?

How could he just have let you go like that? Not when you weaved your soul into his heart and stole it for yourself.

He couldn’t live without your hand in his, your body next to his own in the dead of the night. He couldn’t live without you.

But yet, there he was, he had been so close to losing you. To the terrors of his brother.

He didn’t regret it.

He didn’t regret the bloodshed that night after Drucand had taken your body from his arms.

All he saw was red, and he had no hesitance in taking Drucand’s sword, using his powers to wrap it in flames, and slaughtering his brothers in front of his father and mother.

There had been no ounce of regret in his blood at the sight of their bodies on those marble floors, blood pooling around them. He stared at his father with a glare, before handing Drucand the blood-covered sword back and taking your wounded body into his arms and striding out.

Eris would kill for you, again and again, if he had to. He would cover himself in blood… a sword in his hands, all for you. He would burn Prythian in flames… all so that he would never lose you again.

It was such a dangerous thought.

You were a dangerous addiction to him.

“(Y/N)… What if…”

There was only one way for him to fulfill his promise — his promise to the Gods, to the Mother.

He leaned over your body, his hand gently running down your leg, over your calf, and grasping your foot.

“What if I would carve my heart out, severing my feelings for you… Would that be enough to protect you and keep you alive from the dangers of my life?”

Eris pressed a kiss against the top of your foot, a notion of devotion from the Heir of Autumn Court.

“If that would be the case… then I would gladly take my sword, and hand you my bleeding heart. To show my eternal devotion and my love for you…”

[reyla-the-black-wolf]

My heart speaks for you (Part 1)

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Pairing: Eris x f!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: a bit fluff, slight angst, no other that I could think of

Summary: Y/n is the youngest child of the High Lord of the Night Court and lives a slightly different life than the rest of her family. But what happens, when an unexpected visitor enters the stage and decides to completely change her life?

Part 1 ⎮ Part 2 ⎮Part 3⎮Part 4⎮

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The festivities were in full swing. All the guests wore breathtaking ball gowns and suits in every colour imaginable. And the shooting stars above us glistened like jewels from some long forgotten treasure. 

It was Starfall at the Night Court and our High Lord and his High Lady had worked hard to prepare this stunning ball. This year they wished to open Velaris to everyone, so all the other Courts were invited to enjoy this magnificent night. 

I stood on one of the many balconies at the House of Wind, gazing up at the wonderful night sky above me. The stars seemed magical as they came down one by one to greet us like old friends. I closed my eyes to worship this moment. The chatter of our guests echoed up to where I leaned against the marble railing. It cooled my skin, which was still hot and sweaty from all the dancing earlier. The sound of glass clinking, as people toasted each other. Sweet smelling pastries and other delicious treats hovered in the air. My mouth instinctively watered and I subconsciously smiled.

A lovely fresh spring breeze made my black silken dress swirl around my ankles. My hair stood on end at the sensation and I shivered. Taking a deep breath, I let the night-chilled air fill my lungs. I never wanted this tiny fragment of life to pass, as I enjoyed it to the full. Letting it sink into the deepest parts of my soul and surround me like a thick, cosy blanket. I could feel a warmth spreading all over my skin.

The fabric of my dress caressed my legs, as the wind brushed past it. It accentuated my body in all the right places, from my legs up to my hips and to my breasts. A silver necklace curled its way around my neck with a moonstone in shape of a teardrop set in the centre. It shimmered so brightly as if made of a star itself. To complete my look, I´d chosen some silver earrings. Also with a little moonstone. 

The Cursed Princess of the Night. 

That was my title. At least, that’s what other Fae called me. 

I opened my eyes only to pull back suddenly, as a tall, red-haired Fae stood beside me, watching the Starfall. Apparently I must have been under some kind of spell, as I didn’t hear the man approach me from behind. 

He was at least two heads taller than me and wore a dark crimson tunic with golden embroidery and a creamy white linen shirt underneath. The vest looked like it was made out of blood and the linen shirt perfectly showed off his toned muscles on his arm and chest. A few gold rings curled around his long, slender fingers. And his hair. I almost forgot how to breathe. His hair was a kaleidoscope of fiery colours. A blazing fire of red dawn and golden sunset. Neatly brushed back. He smelled of fresh parchment, rain and red wine. A warmth enveloped him, spreading until I could feel it shiver over my hot skin. 

I knew exactly who was standing before of me. The short, flaming hair. The lean figure. His exquisite attire. Standing beside me was the heir of the Autumn Court.

 Eris Vanserra. 

Apparently, I had let my eyes roam over his form for too long, for when I shifted my gaze to look at his face, he was staring right at me. I´ve never felt so exposed in my entire existence. He watched me as if he could peer straight into my very soul. I was in a trance, an comfortable feeling settled in my stomach. Cauldron! He looks like as if he was carved out of fire itself! All I could do was stare at him in awe. His handsome features. The sharp jawline and his amber eyes. A mischievous smirk played across his full lips, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. Blushing, I looked down at my feet. 

„What is a beautiful lady like you doing up here? Shouldn´t you be dancing with your family or perhaps with the guests?“ His voice sounded like a stream of molten gold. Delicate and charming, but with a hidden danger to it. I wanted to answer him. I really did. But… I just couldn´t. The words in my mind, but my mouth frozen.

When I didn´t respond, he tilted his head to the side. Like a fox staring at its prey. Something flickered in his eyes. Was that curiosity? 

„Pardon me, where are my manners? I´m Eris Vanserra. Heir to the Autumn Throne.“ He threw an elegant hand gesture in my direction and bowed his head. A few strands of his bright red hair fell loose across his forehead, giving him a cheeky look. 

„And you´re the Princess of Night, I suppose? Y/n, right?“ It was nothing but a statement. Of course he knew who I was. Not sure what to do, I just nodded quickly. 

Gathering some strength, I looked him right in the eye and then leaned back on the balcony beside him. My eyes were on the city below us. Velaris. He simply hummed at me, his eyes also sweeping over the City of Starlight. 

„It´s beautiful“, he commented, „but nothing compared to the view next to me, of course.“, his voice smooth as silk. I´d never met the Autumn Court heir in person, but I knew of his reputation. It was said he was a cruel and arrogant man. There was no trace of it now. Still I couldn´t help but smile shyly at his compliment. Daring a glance in his direction, I blushed uncontrollably. He stared at me again, a shameless grin on his face. What was going on? Normally, I´m not one to be flattered easily. Must be the alcohol… 

I smiled and nodded gratefully at him before turning my gaze back to Velaris. Enjoying the view of the city. My home. 

„Can you keep a secret?“ A hint of humour flashed across his face. I looked at him with big doe eyes, waiting for him to continue. „Starfall looks lovely, but in my opinion, it´s nothing compared to the Autumn equinox.“ A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. „You should visit it one day. Definitely worth it.“ He stared off into the distance, as if lost in a memory. He then began to tell me about the autumn equinox, about his brothers, growing up in his fathers Court. If anyone else had seen us, they probably would´ve mistaken us for old friends. Was I genuinely surprised that he shared such private details of his life with me, a complete stranger? Yes. Did it bother me? No, not in the slightest.  

I could feel myself relaxing as he spoke and Eris clearly didn´t care that I didn´t answer. He simply went on sharing his life with me. And I listened carefully to every word he said. Something about it felt quite intimate, as if he trusted me with his very soul. The man next to me, was the complete opposite of what others said about him. A ticklish feeling crept its way into my chest and somehow I knew he needed… this. Just two strangers standing on a balcony at the House of Wind. One talking, the other listening. He needed this as much as I did.

We remained like that for a while. Just the two of us, Velaris below and the stars falling upon us. Now surrounded by a comfortable silence. Eris decided to break it first.

„I´ve heard tales about you, you know? The cursed daughter.“ A pause. „Some say the Cauldron is to blame for your inability to speak.“ I stiffened at his unexpected honesty. „Why is it you can´t talk?“ A thousand questions sparkled in those beautiful eyes of his. It was nothing new for people to have questions about what was wrong with me. They made up all kinds of tales and theories. I was used to them talking behind my back, but I hadn´t expected him to bring it up. Always at ease with my condition, I was surprised, when something felt out of place. A sensation that had changed. But why? I didn´t even know him. Why would he elicit such a reaction in me? 

Feeling his eyes burning into my skin, I looked up at him, longing to say: I wish I could answer you. I truly want to! But I can´t…

Another expression slipped into his honeydew eyes. Sympathy. As if to tell me: I understand.

My eyes watered, but I didn´t mind. I felt completely lost in those cascades of liquid sunlight. Framed by his long lashes and fine wrinkles. Some others wouldn't even have noticed them. 

My star, where are you? Your mother is worried about you.

The voice of my father echoed in a corner of my mind, jolting me out of my trance. I blinked a few times, glanced at the door behind me and back at the man by my side with something, others might have called a pleading look. I have to go.

Eris understood and gave a deep bow. „It was a pleasure to meet you y/n. Princess of the Night.“ Something about the way he said it didn´t make me dislike that title.

I curtsied and spun around on my heel, sensing that this wasn´t the last time I would run into Eris Vanserra. 

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I spent the rest of the night with my family. Mor had a bit too much to drink, but so had her friend Viviane. They sat on the floor with Amren and Varian on velvet cushions, eagerly talking about some event, that happened recently. Cassian and Nesta were leaning on the great balcony, enveloped in each others arms, enjoying their togetherness. Uncle Az was watching the place, searching for any threats, as always. My father had told him, he had the night off, but why break with old habits. And then, there were my parents. High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court. Their crowns shone beneath the chandelier. Made of the most precious diamonds. Currently they were engaged in a lively conversation with Helion and some other Fae. Nyx, my older brother was next to them, holding a wine glass. His wings properly tucked behind his back.

I stood silently in a corner, observing the room. Every detail. The glittering embroidery on some of the ball gowns. The crystal glasses and the way the light was refracted in them. A scent from the pastries caught my attention and I took a deep breath. They smelled incredible. I was caught up in a maelstrom of iridescent colours as I watched the dancing guests. A whirlwind that carried me away and consumed me. A feeling crept over me as if something was watching me. Or rather, someone was. I scanned the hall, but found no one. 

Then a deep, nocturnal laugh snapped me out of my thoughts. My father's laughter. Seeing him and my mother so happy, made me smile to myself. I loved them dearly. But every time I saw them like this, something stirred inside me. A familiar feeling tugging at my heart.

Silent as a shadow, I sneaked out of the hall and headed up to my chambers. It was another wonderful Starfall, no doubt, but right now I wanted nothing more than to sleep. To swallow those rising emotions and banish them for the rest of the night. 

I quickly changed into something more comfortable and lay down on the large bed. Burying myself under the sheets, I soon drifted off into a deep sleep. 

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Grey rain clouds darkened the sky and a sharp wind tore through the treetops. Loose, broken leaves were blown from the muddy ground. I felt a piercing cold creep up my bare ankles, like a dead hand reaching for me. My tangled hair fluttered around my face as the panic trapped within my chest threatened to burst. Breathe! Breathe! My heartbeat rose higher and higher. I was dressed in nothing but a white linen dress, which swirled around my hips. The first drops of rain trickled down my pale cheeks. The wind grew stronger by the second, howling like an ancient spirit.

Breathe and open your eyes! My body screamed at me, but I wasn´t listening. Everything felt too much, when suddenly something soft brushed my thigh and the world stopped spinning for a moment. The gentle thuds of paws and a faint squeak could be heard. Slowly, I opened my eyes, only to be met with a fox sitting a few steps away. His thick, orange fur swirled in the breeze and his big, smoky eyes glistened with curiosity. He certainly was adorable with his black socks and the fluffy fur, his ears twitching. Squeaking again, he started running away from me. My body began to wake up, my feet stepping forward on their own.

I followed the little creature through the forest, trying not to loose him. Water splashed onto my legs, as I ran through some puddles. Fern leaves got stuck on my dress. The world around me, began to blur into a stream of pastel colours. A chaos of moss and olive-green leaves. Of grey sky and dark raindrops. Mixed with the scent of petrichor. The fox then slowed down and hid in a dark, narrow tunnel, waiting for me to follow. I took a few steps and stood at the entrance. My hand darted towards the shadows, but before I could to step into them, they consumed me. Suffocated me. Stole my air. My vision. And then slowly sunk into my very being…

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Sunrays shone down on my face. They tickled a bit and I scrunched my nose. A fresh breeze blew through the open windows and filled the room. The fine silver curtains swayed. I pulled the covers over my head, not wanting to stay up. But the birds chirping outside had other plans, so I kicked off the covers and got up.

As I was getting into a pair of black trousers and a bell-sleeved top, the entire house trembled beneath my feet. The birds were startled and fluttered away. What was going on? 

I quickly threw on some shoes and almost ran out of the room. Perhaps it was an earthquake? Hopefully nothing too serious. 

Moments like this made me wish I had inherited my father's wings.    

Hurrying down a long corridor, I made a sharp right turn and nearly stumbled down a flight of stairs. As I was about to pass another staircase, a certain darkness caught my eye. It spilled out from under a double door, which was decorated with intricate silver carvings. 

The conference room. 

Oh, yes. My mother had told me, that there would be a meeting with the other High Lords in the morning to discuss some new arrangements regarding the import of certain materials into the other courts and the continent. It didn't appear to be going well. 

An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. As I walked towards the door, a low growl reverberated through the walls. Father. 

„Rhys, let us talk about..“ My mother was cut off. „No! I demand to hear it from him! Who is it?“ His sombre voice was full of wrath. What could´ve possibly made him so upset? 

I stepped closer, not sure if I should knock and disturb them. You could literally feel the tension.

„Rhysand, this is a business council. We´re here to discuss other matters.“ I believed, that was Lord Thesan´s voice speaking. A pregnant pause followed. I could almost see my father glaring at him. „Y/n. It's Y/n.“ I couldn't identify the voice. Someone was gasping for air and mumbled something incomprehensible. After that, no one dared to say another word. 

Why were they talking about me? What was going on in there?

„You are not worthy of her.“ He practically spat out the word. My father´s sudden change of demeanour sent a shiver down my spine. „That decision is not yours to make.“ Heavy footsteps echoed across the room. „Call off your dog, Rhysand.“, Cassian snarled as he was addressed like that. „No need for hostility.“, the voice sounded as nonchalant as it could be.

Eris. 

The darkness around my feet grew thicker. With no clue what had gotten into me, I grabbed the door handle and entered the council room. Not a single person noticed me. Just as I was about to close the door and step into whatever situation awaited me, glass shattered on the wooden floor.

„She is my daughter. You are not entitled to her!“ I could do nothing but watch the scene unfold. „Rhys, you don´t understand. Y/n is my mate. You can´t keep her away from me.“ The air was practically charged with lightning. A tingling sensation, that… 

Wait what?…What did he just say?… I´m his.. his mate?

The room seemed too small now. Time stood still. Even the dust in the air had stopped moving. I inhaled sharply. My thoughts were racing. Pieces of memories flashed my mind.

Last night on the balcony. 

His cheeky grin. 

Mor, a dancing flash of red. 

Stars sparkling above our heads.

A full moon shining as bright as ever.

My parents holding each others hands.

The stories Eris had told me about his childhood. 

I must´ve heard this incorrectly. We hadn't even met each other until yesterday. But now it made sense, why he acted so.. so vulnerable in my presence. I was his mate. He was my mate. I had a mate. This one sentence repeatedly ran through my mind. 

Unconsciously, my foot took a step back at the realisation and one of the planks creaked awkwardly. As if slow motion, all faces turned to me. 

„Darling, I´m so sorry. This wasn´t meant for your...“, my father stuttered, but I couldn´t hear him anymore. His Apology ended in a swirl of pure silence. All I could do was stare at him. Eris. And he looked at me. Straight into my eyes with a shocked expression on his face. „Y/n, I..“, he tried to step forward but Cass stopped him immediately. Someone then gently grabbed my arm and pulled me along. Away from this moment, that just put my entire life upside down. A familiar scent flooded my nose and golden brown hair waved in my vision. The last thing I remember, was the doors closing behind me, as my mother winnowed us to the living room.

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@tele86 @circe143 @impossibelle @st4r-girl-official @cherry-cin

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Fate Inked In Starlight

Part Two

Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel

Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are, or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.

Warnings - slight angst, some Eris fluff, Rhys changing his aggy tune, Az being intrigued.

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five

"Your note said that you found a woman here?" Rhys asked as he stepped through the threshold of Fir Manor, his violet eyes prickling with intrigue as he glanced about the heirs personal home.

It was different to how they had expected it to be.

Artwork by various talents hung on the walls which were covered in a dark red, almost brown, wallpaper. Furniture was arranged neatly, a fire crackled against the wall, and an array of books lay splayed open on differing pages, none knowing which would be picked up and resumed next.

Rhys and Azriel found themselves surrounded by warmth, it radiated through the home, harmonised by the sound of angelic humming that the flames appeared to sway to.

The three males sat at the seating area before the fire, Eris on one of the plush armchairs easily big enough for two, the arm of it was slightly dented from where he constantly propped his feet atop it, usually when he was reading or being tormented by his hounds.

"I did. I sent her to bathe, and the healer left just before you both arrived," he watched them warily as they looked around the room.

Eris could hardly blame them for their intrigue, he had never welcomed anyone into Fir Manor, it was meant to be his refuge away from life. A personal haven of sorts. But he knew there was no other place he could take you where you'd be safe.

The air was tight with tension, Eris' relationship with the two males in the room with him had improved greatly as time had progressed and they saw him as more than just Beron's heir, but, it was still difficult at times.

Azriel didn't trust him at all. He knew why they had to support Eris, Beron was a cruel thing, an accumulation of all things foul in Prythian. With what had happened to Mor, Azriel didn't care for any cry that came from Autumn, only responding when Rhys commanded it.

"I call her Flora. It feels wrong for her to not have a name," the angelic hum continued to flow from a slightly ajar door upstairs, a wordless melody that had stuck to your lips and begged to be sang, even softly.

"She truly has no idea how she got here?" Azriel didn't look to the heir as he asked, his hazel eyes trained on the staircase to his right where the sweet song drifted, making his shadows dance around his forearms in ethereal delight.

"None. Though, I was hoping we could confirm that with your ability, Rhysand." It wasn't a question, more of a certainty, it was imperative that they knew the truth about you, if there was truly nothing in your mind.

Rhys hummed, his feet mindlessly tapping along to the melody that seemed to grow closer and increase in volume, "Only if she agrees. I'm not here to force her to do anything she doesn't wish to."

"Good," Eris leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, "I wouldn't let you if you even tried."

"Why?" Azriel tore his gaze away from the stairs, needing to know why Eris wouldn't let them do what was necessary to decipher your intentions.

Eris' amber orbs glowed in the firelight, dangerous and unyielding, "You'll see."

As if on cue, you appeared at the bottom of the stairs, your hair and skin now free from dirt and dried blood, the cuts on your neck healed and vanished, and a healthy rosed pink tinge to your cheeks. Azriel saw you faintly, the ocean blue pools with currents of molten gold running through them shining through the shadows, and damp pearlescent blonde hair that easily reached the bottom of your spine.

"Hello," you spoke, your voice was so gentle, so innocent as you examined the two new males in the manor. Both winged things, dark hair, black swirling tattoos across their shoulders, chests, and arms. A blue light pulsated, it thrummed with power, much like your own did.

As if sensing your fear, Eris rose to his feet, "It's alright," he coaxed into the shadows, the fire cascading its glow over his figure. Eris looked different, you knew he was muscular but you didn't realise just how sculpted he was as he stood there ridded of his jacket and stood only in his brown briefs and open collared cream shirt. "They're friends. I asked them to come and help."

That being all the security you needed, you stepped out from the shadow, allowing the warmth of the firelight to wrap around you whilst you fiddled with your fingernails.

All of their eyes went wide as they took you in, then the sets belonging to Eris' companions flew to him, the look on his own face confirming that he didn't already know of the thing that had concerned them.

You stood before them, a sheer deep red dress pooling at your feet, they could make out the peaks of your nipples, not like they were searching for them. They were too focused on a much more pressing matter.

Azriel couldn't blame Eris for not noticing, it's not like the heir had watched you undress with his own eyes. But as you stood before them, Azriel truly didn't know what to do next, and that had never been a problem he'd faced before. Your skin was covered in marks, tiny little archaic sketches that started at your shoulders and ended at your feet, no patch of skin was left bare apart from your face and the palms of your hands.

None of them had ever seen anything like it.

They weren't a million of miniscule interlinked tattoos, they were scars, thousands of them stacked upon one another, all healed over to mere bumps of flesh.

"I'm Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, and Azriel is my spymaster," Eris and Azriel were thankful that Rhys was the first to break the heavy silence, neither of them knew what to say, "I have a power that allows me to look into minds. I was wondering if you'd allow me into yours, that we may somehow figure out where you came from?"

You looked to Eris, the one that you trusted the most in the room, "It won't hurt, will it?"

Azriel watched your lips move as you spoke, he allowed his gaze to travel down your frame, around the curves of your hips, until he found the marred rings of flesh around your wrists. It was a stare that you caught, and he felt that familiar pang of sadness when you hid them behind your back.

"No," Eris told you, he was sure, he was certain, "Rhys has done it to me many times before. It's just to give us some clarity, that's all. Then we can figure out how to best help you," you took his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead you to the armchair where he once sat, the warmth of his body heat cushioning your nerves.

Duke nestled himself at your feet, dragging his head so that is rested on top of your bare toes. The room shifted, and you found Rhys kneeling in front of you, vibrant violet burrowing into your face, he was tight lipped and raised a slow hand to grasp the back of your neck, the sensation of his touch made you gasp.

Then the violet glazed over, you felt the claws asking for permission at the forefront of your consciousness and you let them in without a fight. It was odd, to have someone scouring through your brain, to feel them slip in and out of every crevasse and chamber.

Azriel watched you with a fierce intensity, your gaze hadn't left Rhys' face for even a moment, though your eyebrows did occasionally twitch close together in discomfort. Then blood, fresh, bright red blood began to seep from your nose, a sign that Rhys was pushing too deeply in the wrong direction.

"Rhys," Azriel called over, Eris had perched on the arm of the chair, his hands curled around your shoulders gently. His High Lord froze, as if awaiting the rest of the call, "You're hurting her."

Immediately, Rhys' talons retracted from your mind and his eyes returned to their vibrant hue, "Fascinating," he mumbled to no one in particular as his thumb reached to wipe away the single thread of blood that had escaped your nose, "There was nothing in there," he turned to Azriel and told him, more freaked out than threatened, then he turned back to you, "You have a shield in your mind, protecting a certain chamber of it. It was like an ocean reflecting the night sky, rippling with motion and littered with stars. It did not want to let me in."

Azriel could picture it. A canvas rippling with life that embodied the calmness that only the Summer waters possessed, flecked with bright stars in a kaleidoscope of hues. He imagined it was a peaceful shield to come into contact with, perhaps even the most peaceful shield Rhys had ever seen.

A defeated look took over your face, those doe eyes creasing downward as you turned into Eris.

"We'll help you, Flora." Eris told you, forcing you to look into him, to see that he wasn't lying.

"Flora?"

Eris winced, nervously scratching the back of his neck, "Yes. You don't have a name and I didn't want to call you nothing," he rambled in a way you found rather sweet, "Flora suits you, but obviously you can choose whatever name you'd like-"

Your hand moving to his thigh was enough to stop more words from tumbling from his mouth, "Flora," you repeated the name, humming in agreement, "I like it."

Rhys stood from his place in front of you, and you realised then just how big he was as the shadows of his wings cast down on you. There was a fondness laced in his expression, "We'll do all that we can to help you. In the meantime, we should discuss living arrangements?"

"Living arrangements?" The question seemed silly to Rhys, but of course, you had no idea of the danger you were in whilst in the Autumn Court. You knew nothing of its High Lord and the brimming hatred he held toward anyone and anything.

Doe eyed and beautiful or not, Beron would hurt you if he found you in his lands.

"She's staying with me, Rhys," Eris told him curtly, making a point that it was not up for discussion.

Eris was by no means holding a claim over you, he just wished for you to be as comfortable as possible, and given the melodic humming floating through his home a short while ago, he was confident in thinking that Fir Manor was the best place to house you.

You sat still as the pair stared intently at one another whilst Azriel kept his gaze on you. Tilting your head to the side, like Eris had done when he found you, you smiled, the act growing on your lips as his shadows slithered across the floor and curled around your ankles and hiked up your calves. They were in awe of you. Complete and total adoration.

Once they had returned to him, they only whispered of your beauty and kind soul, of their need to hear your song once more.

"You will keep in touch then," Rhys bit, clearly not happy at the arrangements made between himself and Eris, "And if Flora ever needs another place to go, you will write to me and either myself or Azriel will come."

You and Eris sat on opposite ends of the sofa, twin blankets draped over your legs with a bundle of Eris' hounds in the space between all laying in different directions and positions.

Eris' head kept on lifting toward you, the poor book in his hands getting little to no attention as he examined your face. Your hair had been dried by the fire, it held a shine to it that he'd never seen before, strands kept on falling over your cheeks, and you continued to push them behind your ears with a slight frown, doing your best to concentrate on your own book that Eris had given to you.

The silence was comfortable, crickets creaked from beyond the window and the fireflies drifted around the edges of the estate. A gentle breeze wafted through your hair, filling the room with your scent, and Eris didn't mind it one bit.

"You're staring," you noted aloud before meeting his eye, "Is something on my face?"

The innocence of you made him smile, a genuine one, one of pure wonderment and curiosity, "No," he mused, "I'm just trying to figure you out."

Amusement huffed through you, "Let me know what you find?"

"Always," you mirrored his smile, your eyes sparkling in the golden orange hue from the dimly lit fire as the day caught up with you, a yawn pulling at your mouth and limbs, causing you to stretch and emit some sleep deprived whines, "I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Let me take you to your room," Eris stood quickly, ignoring the grumbles of his hounds at the shifting of weight which had interrupted their naps. Eris was sincere, cradling your hand into the indent of his elbow as he led you from the room.

Fir Manor was a spectacle you had to see to truly experience it. Warmth trickled through every part of the home, rich red brown walls, oak tables and furnishings, plush beds and bay windows, a library so full that books lay stacked in piles around the room. Various artworks were carefully placed about the halls and bedrooms, some more grand than others, but each told its own story, and you felt yourself delving into each one that Eris led you past.

Light chatter had enveloped you and you had learned that Eris was the eldest son of the Autumn High Lord, that he was next to ascend to the title, and that Fir Manor was his and his alone.

"Does it ever get lonely? Having all of this incredible space but no one to share it with?"

Eris contemplated your question, and you wanted to retract it entirely when you saw that glimmer of tainted hope in him, "I hope that one day I will have someone to share this all with. All of this grandeur and power means nothing if you're alone." Eris paused before asking, "Do you want a family?"

You slowed to a stop before a pair of large oak doors, kissed with intricate carvings and swirls; you faced Eris, letting his whisky amber stare pour into you, "I think I would like one, yes. Maybe one day."

A breath lodged itself in his throat, he surveyed you, truly surveyed you, he noticed the faint freckles pecking your nose, how long your eyelashes were as they fluttered at him, he etched the peak of your cupid's bow to his memory.

"This will be yours for however long you wish to stay," he opened the door to the room and you stepped inside with mouth agape and words failing to rise from your heart.

The room was magnificent.

A large four-poster bed pleaded for your attention, adorned with a textured orange comforter and white pillows, thin white curtains danced in the gentle breeze from the open window, and candles lit the room in a dull light. Beneath your feet lay a fluffy brown rug, a small seating area rested to the left of the room, an oak coffee table with a matching dresser and dressing table. To the right of the room, peering out at you from the open door lay the most opulent bathroom you had ever seen, a tub deep enough to fit all of Eris' hounds sat before a floor to ceiling window that gave the owner a spectacular view of the gardens and forest beyond the estate. Everything gleamed in the soft light, every ripple of gold in the white marble glittering against the ceiling.

"What if I never wish to leave?" Eris stood just in the threshold of the room, not wanting to impose on your privacy despite the fact that he owned the place.

"I'd be okay with that," he watched you turn in your place, he watched you twirl with your arms outstretched, peaceful joy clear on your relaxed face, "My room is at the end of the hall, on the right, if you need anything."

"Thank you, Eris. You didn't have to do all of this," you were genuine, perhaps the most genuine creature he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting. "I'm very glad that it was you who found me today."

Eris was already closing the door to the room when you had spoke, he turned his head, smirking at you over his shoulder, "So am I, Little Flower."

That night, Eris lay awake staring at his cream ceiling, a hand on his chest rubbing gentle circles into the skin over his rapidly thundering heart. Eris lay there, lay there clueless to the beings who were pounding against the windows of Prythian, around his home, desperate to break through and take back what was theirs.

Authors Note

Luckily, part two was already started in my drafts and I've been in a great mood today so decided to finish it. I'm thinking about posting once or twice a week for this series, fully just depends on what else I add to my fanfic list.

I love a fluffy Eris too much btw 🥹

Series Taglist

@acourtofbatboydreams @glitterypirateduck2

[little-fierling]

Feyre asked Lucien about his powers in ACOTAR:

”What sort of powers do you have? Can you shape-shift like Tamlin?” He sighed, looking skyward before he studied me warily, that metal eye narrowing with unnerving focus. “Trying to figure out my weaknesses so you can—” I glowered at him. “Fine. No, I can’t shape-shift. Only Tam can.”

He hedged and never actually answered her. He has never claimed that he has fire powers. Feyre assumed that he has them after she learned that fire is an Autumn Court power. Rhys and others in NC also assume so, because what else could he have as the seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court?

Feyre and Rhys learned in ACOWAR that Lucien is actually Helion’s son, but they didn’t think to question his magic after this revelation. They think that Lucien has no idea that he isn’t Beron’s son.

Even though we have seen him use Day Court magic on page. In front of both Feyre and Rhys. He even said that his eye can see spells and glamours, which is an obvious lie. It’s just his own magic that let’s him see them.

He would keep his parentage and magic secret because this secret would put his mother in danger.

But what about the way his eye and hair burns and glows?

Helion:

Helion’s eyes blazed like a forge.

Helion’s amber eyes flashed.

Helion fixed his full attention upon me. It was an effort not to flinch at the weight of that focus, the simmering intensity.

And how his eyes burned at that, flaring bright as suns.

Lucien:

His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge.

His eye seemed to simmer.

his ruby hair gleamed like molten metal as his temper rose.

His russet eye flashed with simmering rage.

Lucien’s heir markers are the same as Helion’s HL markers. Helion has light powers, but sun light can also be hot, so hot that it can burn. Which Helion has demonstrated.

Helion’s flame was a pure, blinding white.

Burn it—with the power of the sun.

We have never actually seen Lucien use fire magic in the books. He has winnowed, healed, cleaved a binding spell, used light and a ”pulse of flame-licked power”. He can also see spells and glamours.

Only that ”pulse of flame-licked power”, that he used in ACOWAR against his brothers, is close to AC fire magic. Helion can burn with his light magic too, so it is not proof of Lucien having fire powers.

Would it make sense storytelling wise that he actually doesn’t have fire powers? He is a trickster character, so yes, it is possible that he has fooled Feyre and NC characters in such a way. I at least would laugh so much if this turned out to be true.

[littlest-w01f]

Chapter One

Series Masterlist

CW: Non-con kissing and touching

The Court of Nightmares, a place that housed the people the High Lord of the Night Court didn't want to keep. A place where no one from the other Court with a sound mind would enter. It was a dark and dreary place, not at all for the faint of heart.

Novali was born in the darkest times Hewn City had seen, their High Lord had left, leaving the worst of the worst to take charge. A century, it had been since their High Lord had visited, busy raising his heir in the Court of Dreams.

There hadn't been a whisper of the Lord since before Novali had been born nearly two decades ago, cruel males and females were in charge, and not plenty of nice people left to save the bad ones.

Novali sat in a club, cards face down in front of her, five others with her on the table, three males and two females. On her turn, she pushed some of the money to the centre, eyes raised at the next male, the only one who hadn't folded.

Her face was expressionless, watching the male, seeing right through his bluff. Gambling was easy marks, a pile of copper and silver collected, when the male finally admitted defeat Novali with a triumphant look pulled all the coins with her.

"Well, this has been fun, but she needs to leave," a male spoke behind her, and Novlai had trained herself well enough to not stiffen at the voice.

Her fiance, one of the most influential males in the Court, Sailas, stood behind her, even if most people feared him, even if the other people at the table straightened at the sight of him, Novali had trained herself to not fear him half a decade ago.

"Of course, Sir." The title was rough on her tongue as she stood up, Sailas reached forward to grab her won money.

Sailas counted the silver marks, keeping them and passing the copper ones to Novali, "Good girl," he purred, pocketing the marks, his hand on Novali's waist, he leaned down to kiss her, Novali held her breath, knowing better to not cringe at the alcohol on his lips.

"Come on," He moved and Novali followed behind him, her eyes dark in anger, whipping away at her lips, smoothing her simple black dress, short heels clicking with each step.

Novali's eyes scanned the room, Sailas was off talking to one of his friends, making her stand beside him, she noted everything in the bar. Her eyes went from the few faelings working, most of them were her age, and she knew each and every one of them, she hid a smile well watching them swipe things off the adults in the room without anyone else noticing.

"Girl, get us something strong to drink!" Sailas commanded her, and she turned to her fiance and his friends.

"Yes, Sir." She dipped her chin in respect and turned on her heel to the bar, ordering the drinks she knew by heart, and putting them on her fiance's tab.

Novali stood around as the bartender poured the drinks for her, "So, what would you like?" The bartender asked, his red hair not looking too bright in the tavern, but his amber eyes were shining with fire in them.

"Nothin', Aleks," Novali sighed, ears straining to hear her fiance talk.

"That's unbelievable." Sailas stressed. "They were never supposed to come back."

Kier, the male he was talking to spoke up, "No, the High Lord is coming soon, Morrigan just visited, arranging a meeting."

Novali's eyes were unfocused as she listened in, the High Lord was coming, from what she'd heard, Kier's daughter had visited, for the first time in a century.

Aleks caught the change in her expression, pouring the last drinks and pushing them in front of her. "What's wrong?"

Novali didn't let her findings show, knowing that people, especially her fiance, were watching, "Thank you for your service." Novali gave Aleks a nod, taking the drinks to her fiance and the Fae he was talking to.

The place was dark, it was hard to tell the time since it was always dark in the Court of Nightmares, Novali walked down the empty streets, humming to herself.

Her fiance had just kicked her out of his house just moments after he was done using her for petty marks and her body, he refused to house her when she had gotten pregnant with his child almost 6 years ago, saying Novali was ruined to have gotten pregnant in a wedlock.

Novali trudged through the desolate streets, her body heavy with exhaustion yet fueled by determination. The bitter sting of betrayal lingered, a harsh reminder of the cruel reality she now faced. He refused to acknowledge the innocent life that she carried within her and abandoned the babe he had forced in her.

The cold, unforgiving night mirrored her heart, shrouded in darkness and despair. She thought about seeking solace with her parents, but they too had turned their backs on her, choosing instead to side with societal norms. They’d abandoned her, leaving Novali alone to face the world’s harsh judgment. And it had taken quite a while, to stop caring for people like her parents, and she had.

She went back to the male, because of how powerful he was, and while he was drunk he would slip knowledge she wouldn't otherwise get. Her mind drifted back to the conversation she had overheard about the High Lord and more that he had told her, bitching about Rhysand.

The sound of a falcon made her look up. She put her little finger in the corner of her mouth and whistled to her bird. The falcon landed on top of Novali's head and let her pet him. The bird made a sound of contentment, and Novali followed, both of them enjoying the contact.

"Hello, Azazel," Novali whispered, scratching the bird's neck. She had found him injured on the streets, and it hadn't taken her long to feel a kinship with the bird, feeling as if they were the same, thrown on the streets, injured and left to die and it was easy to see that Azazel felt the same.

Azazel was way bigger than a normal falcon someone could find, possessing his own magic, and ability to sneak around despite his size, his wingspan was almost as long as Alekxia's arms, and his coat was completely black, leaving his pale crop to harden his ability to hide like her pale skin against her raven hair, but that didn't stop them.

The texture of Azazel's feathers was one of the few constant touches in her life, even though, she had shaken on deals, gotten a pat on the back, in rare cases even a hug it all felt strange to her. Unless it came from very specific friends of hers.

She would catch herself thinking about how it would feel to have a long tight hug with someone, to hold a hand, but when it happened, the texture of another skin on hers felt wrong. No matter how wanted.

Novali had felt him approach long before he fully got to her, from how Azazel had nipped at her pointed ear, "How are you...?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"The High Lord is coming for a visit in two days." Novali didn't beat around the bush, not quite wanting to talk about how she was.

Aleksander tilted his head as he looked at her, "Rhysand, the High Lord?" He asked, brows rising, "He remembers us?"

Novali laughed sharply, "Apparently." She slowed slightly so they could match their walk. "We should talk with Cahira around."

Lanterns were hanging from huts, powered by magic, the only source of light in the place that Novali called home, sitting on a small round table, sitting with her friends.

Aleksander raised his hand, and the fire in the lanterns increased in intensity, "So, High Lord is visiting, start talking." He nodded to Novali.

"He's coming in a day or two, Sailas wants me to attend with him..." Novali sighed, "He's got a dress for me, he doesn't want me to wear my normal clothes. It's going to be a massive party." She watched her friends as she spoke, "Almost as big as the last party Eris Vanserra ever attended, Salias' words."

"Ughh..." Cahira made a face, "Sometimes, I am glad I'm disowned."

The three friends look at each other with a serious expressions before they burst out laughing.

Novali smiled, "I've only heard that once before from you." She sets down a plate of meats, Cahira bringing different forms of slices of bread. They had cooked in bulk like they did for their fellow faelings, to offer them, eating last.

Aleksander hummed, taking food for himself, "Well, my darling mother didn't invite me." He leaned in his chair, the chair underneath him creaking lightly.

"I do not want to be there, either." Novali sighed, "But I need to be, we should know what Rhysand wants with our people."

"Perhaps he's beinging golden boy here?" Cahira rolled her eyes, sipping her water. "He'd want to see the shit hole he's let this place become."

Novali cleared her throat, the three of them weren't old by any means, but they were old enough to know what was happening in their home court, and to know it wasn't right.

"The heir should be of age..." Novali added, "So it makes sense, he's showing him High Lord things."

Leaning back in his chair, Aleksander lets out a sigh, his fingers idly tracing patterns on the worn wooden surface of the table. His amber gaze was shadowed with concern.

Cahira and Novali exchange glances, understanding passing between them without words. The tension in the air is palpable. Nothing could be said to dilute it, none of them liked not knowing if something big was about to go down.

After they had done catching up with their day, they retired to their beds, as Novali was alone she slipped into her bed, "Shristi...?" She smiled at the little fae she shared a bed with. The fae she had faked the death of, her entire world.

Shristi opened her eyes the second she heard her mother's voice, the 6-year-old smiled, snuggling into Novali, "Mama... You're home..."

"I'm home..." Novali rested her head on their shared pillow, "Were you good for Cahira, sweety?"

Shristi nodded in her chest, "Very good."

"That's wonderful." Novali sighed, stroking her daughter's back as she looked up, she could hear the silence in the place as no one was awake, no one but her, because Novali never slept, she couldn't afford to be vulnerable, so she got used to staying up till she passed out of exhaustion.

She smiled lightly as she heard Azazel return to his nest in her home, also retiring for the night. The talk she had with her fiance was ringing in her ear, the drunken fool had let a lot slip. The heir, Nyx, was indeed coming with the High Lord and Lady, combined with the inner circle.

She wondered what it would be like to have them in Hewn City, how much power she would feel, would they care for what was happening to them? Or would they just simply turn a blind eye to them?

Her mind pondered endless questions till her eyelids grew heavy and she shut them, exhaling lightly, ears still strained in a final attempt to not let down her guard.

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

{Meeting in Grey Taglist- @sleepylunarwolf @achaotichuman @sarawritestories @bakananya}

[clockwork-ashes]

Son of Autumn

Short Eris Vanserra one-shot. Warning for mentions of violence.

Summary: The sons of Beron Vanserra, Autumn through and through, had all been born for nothing more than bloody slaughter in a court known for its unforgiving cruelty.

No son of Autumn.

Eris lifted a pale hand, pulled his elbow back, and threw the dagger he held with practised ease. His ever-observant amber eyes watched as the weapon spun end over end, flashing moonlight silver as the blade reflected the flames from the torches lined along the walls.  

Embers fell from Eris’s fingers as he lowered his arm, the smallest of sparks disappearing before they landed on the stone floor of the training room. 

The pointed end of the dagger struck one of the target’s outer rings, the jewelled hilt mocking Eris as it seemed to wave a moment before going entirely still. 

Eris took a deep breath, deciding that if he was annoyed by inanimate objects, he needed more time to himself than he had initially thought. 

No son of Autumn.

The High Lord’s words crashed over Eris once again like ocean waves along the shore. He bit the inside of his cheek, tasting blood, and bit harder still. A nervous habit he had not been able to shake from his childhood, Eris took the last of his daggers between unscarred fingers as the day’s events continued to plague his thoughts.

Eris had been called to his father’s study, the Lady of Autumn standing by an arched window, small and unimposing. She had not turned to look at her eldest son as he had entered the cosy space, and Eris had guessed that Beron had been unhappy with him.  

It had still come as a shock to Eris when his father struck him, just once, enough to make his mother wince but not enough to make her turn around.

Jaw clenched, Eris had listened as Beron accused him of having spoiled Lucien. 

Golden flames whirled to life in his father’s eyes, identical to the ones Eris so often saw reflected in the mirror. 

No son of Autumn.

Lucien was too soft, too kind. The sons of Beron Vanserra, Autumn through and through, had all been born for nothing more than bloody slaughter in a court known for its unforgiving cruelty.

Eris had heard his father hiss those very words countless times, had even known as a child what the High Lord of Autumn wanted him to be raised as. 

Vicious. 

Arrogant. 

Merciless. 

Eris had been best moulded to that image, his father’s favoured son, his mother’s greatest disappointment, a perfect heir. He knew it was the same for each of his brother’s, all of them forged in Autumn’s wicked fire to become the court’s greatest weapons. 

Lucien, despite it all, was like a flower forced to grow in the rockiest of earth. His kindness was shocking, his softness striking. Even their father was not immune to Lucien’s lopsided grin, to his playful smiles. 

Bright as sunshine, Lucien always wanted to hold his eldest brother’s hand. 

No son of mine.

Eris could still see the unspoken question in his father’s eyes, the words he would not dare say out loud lest his wife confirm those suspicions. 

Is Lucien a child of my blood?

Eris threw the last dagger with so much force he heard the sharp crack of wood splitting, thunderous. Dead-centre, his target struck true, and even Eris was surprised when for the briefest of moments he imagined that the dagger had instead struck his father.

[shadowdaddies]

I’m in desperate need of more ACOTAR x male! Reader. I’m a pretty newly out trans dude and the lack of x m!reader content is criminal. I lovedddd your Eris x quiet male reader, but I would love to see more!!! Maybe with a louder/vocal reader?

hi! thanks for your patience with this request, I've been a bit slow getting to them lately but I hope this is worth the wait❤️‍🔥

Echoes in Autumn

Eris x m!Reader smut

Warnings: smut below the cut, light bondage (fire play)

Taking a small sip from the chalice in your hand, you surveyed the room of nobility before you. Lord and Ladies danced, drank, and droned on in conversation about trivial matters which they held in the highest esteem.

Fighting the scowl that played on your features, you scanned the space in search of the one person you were there to see when a familiar firm hand ran lightly across your backside. 

You gasped, eyes wide as you turned meet Eris’s amber gaze. A dark chuckle left his lips. “So reactive, as always,” he purred with a wicked smirk before turning to look out over the room of people. 

“It is terribly boring here, isn’t it?” he sighed, swirling the burgundy liquid in his own glass with a grimace. 

“I don’t know why I bother coming to these events,” you lied, praying to the Mother he wouldn’t notice how your face flushed as you stood so close to the only reason you came tonight.

Eris was perceptive as ever though, eyes glittering with mischief as they burned into the side of your face. “There are far more interesting places in the Forest House,” he mused, arching a questioning brow as he turned toward the ballroom doors. 

Setting your drink down on a nearby table, you followed the swift-moving flash of dark red hair as Eris’s long legs carried him out the doors. The moment the wood clicked shut behind you, Eris’s hand moved down once more to your ass.

Pulling your body flush against his own, his free hand wound it’s way under your waist coat, warmth gripping your ribcage in desperate attempt to get as close as possible. Heat spread through your body, as though his flame was spreading through you like wildfire. 

Lips crashed to yours, hungry and searching. Eris’s tongue slid along your mouth in silent request, a hand brought down sharply on your ass when you didn’t comply. Your breathy moan granted him the access he craved, the taste of cinnamon overwhelming your senses as Eris’s tongue danced with yours.

Hips ground against each other, his hard length rubbing your own with delicious friction. Groaning into his mouth, you pulled back to catch your breath and were met with Eris’s wild eyes and mussed hair. “My room, now,” he growled, taking your hand in his to guide you down the long hallway.

Unlocking the door to his bedroom, Eris pulled you inside and in one fluid motion, whirled you around behind him. Back against the door, you were hypnotized watching the outline of the Autumn heir’s toned form in the dim faelight, the way his hair caught the glow like a soft flame. 

The lock clicked in place behind you, snapping you from your daze just as Eris began to pull frantically at your coat and shirt. Bare chested, you bit down a moan at the feeling of Eris’s lips trailing down your neck to the exposed skin of your chest.

Your own hands fumbled for his shirt, tugging at the buttons of the tunic with such fervor several of them clattered to the ground. Eris pulled back, looking to his ruined shirt and letting out a low laugh. 

“Eager, are we?” he purred, but you couldn’t be embarrassed when you saw the same hunger in his own eyes. Lips found yours once more, this time slower, as though he remembered he wanted to savor this moment.

Eris drew one finger down your torso, sending shivers down your spine. With a playful tug at the hem of your pants, lips moved to trail along your jaw, down to your neck. 

Just as he reached the soft spot on your throat he knew would send you reeling, his hand dipped into your trousers, wrapping around your hard length. Head slamming back against the door, you brought a hand to your mouth to stifle your lewd moan as you jerked into his hand.

“No,” Eris huffed, lips pulling away from where they’d sucked bruising marks on your neck. Flames wrapped around your wrists, pulling them taut over your head. “I want to hear every pleasurable sound I wring from you tonight.”

Cheeks warm and flushed, you nodded vigorously under his gaze. “Good,” he purred, cocky demeanor back to play as you felt your remaining scraps of clothing burn away to ash. 

Eris knelt down before you, whiskey-colored eyes looking up through long lashes as he licked your length from base to tip. “Fuck, Eris,” you moaned, eyes rolling back with pleasure. Pumping slowly, torturously, up and down your cock, Eris licked the sensitive vein, sucking on the tip, edging you until you were a babbling mess.

“Eris, please,” you pleaded in a whine, “I want you to take me.” Eris’s cock twitched in his pants at your words, the cuffs of flame releasing you in favor of Eris walking you back towards the massive four-poster bed, lips never leaving yours.

“Lay back,” he directed with a nod, hands working to remove his own pants. You crawled to the center of the bed, back arched to show off the ass you knew he loved. Eris smirked appreciatively, crawling behind you on the mattress. 

Hands slid up the backs of your thighs, stopping to squeeze the flesh of your ass as you heard a needy groan from behind you. “So good for me,” Eris murmured, emanating heat against your backside when you felt a cool liquid drip over your tight hole. 

Slowly, Eris pushed one finger inside of you, both of your groans echoing through the room as he pumped and curled, working you open for him. As nimble fingers brushed that most sensitive spot, you collapsed into the pillows, muscles contracting while you tried to muffle the lewd sounds that left you with no control.

Suddenly, Eris’s hand was withdrawn, the absence of his touch leaving you cold. “I told you not to hide those noises from me,” he warned before effortlessly flipping you onto your back.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” the heir questioned, brow arched as he stared down at you through a curtain of flaming hair. 

“Yes, Eris,” you pleaded, still breathless from the pleasure that had been ripped from you moments prior. “Please touch me.” You reached toward him with your hands, only to find them pinned once again in circles of flame.

“Good boy,” he cooed, hiking your legs to your chest. The tip of his cock prodded at your entrance, and he smirked. “Let’s hear it, then.”

With a single thrust, Eris’s cock stretched you out, impossibly full when you felt his head brushing your walls perfectly. You knew you wouldn’t last long as he started moving, each thrust calculated and precise to drive you over the edge. It was almost frightening how well he knew your body, how he played you like an instrument for his own pleasure while you laid there, a helpless, moaning mess.

“Eris,” you gasped, voice hoarse from screaming when your wide eyes found his to tell him you were close. “Together,” he grunted, movements growing faster as you felt delicious warmth pulsing along your cock. 

Looking down, you found those tendrils of flame working your length in tandem with Eris’s thrusts, the overstimulation sending your into your orgasm almost instantly. 

Your release splattered all over your chest, Eris’s filling you up before slowly pulling out. Still catching your breath, you looked down to see Eris, tired and watching you with pure adoration.

“How do you feel?” he asked, hands gently rubbing the inside of your thighs as he lowered them to the mattress. 

A small bubble of a laugh escaped you at the ridiculous question. “I think the entire Forest House could attest to just how good I feel.”

A soft smile graced Eris’s lips, caramel eyes flicking to the mess on your stomach as hunger filled his gaze once more. “Stay still,” he mumbled, tongue already on your skin as he licked you clean, sliding up your body as he did so.

Elbows rested on either side of your head, Eris dipping his mouth to yours for one last languid, slow kiss before settling into bed next to you. 

“Eris?” you whispered, heart thumping at his soft sound of question. “You are the only reason I look forward to these events,” you admitted softly. 

Those soft lips pressed to your temple, arm snaking around your waist as your limbs tangled and bodies melded into one. “And I you.”

[jules-writes-stories]

Into the Night

A Retelling of Hades & Persephone | Azriel x Eris | Azris Week | Day 7| Equinox

Cast of Characters |

Eris | Persephone Azriel | Hades Lady of Autumn | Demeter Helion | Helios Lucien | Hermes Rhys | Zeus The Archeron Sisters | The Fates Cassian as himself

The first two parts are below. Read the whole story on AO3.

I

Scarlet hair blew across a pale face, like blood on freshly fallen snow. Golden eyes were lights upon dark water, a windy smile. He wanted this fae of Forest and Flame, like nothing he’d ever wanted before. Ours, the shadows whispered.

Each day was the same. Azriel spied on the beautiful male gliding through Autumn’s citrine-ruby forests, watched him slip between stalks of grain and orchards, the scent of stone fruit and loam cloying in the setting sun. 

Somehow the shadows had found their way into this court of hearth and harvest, once in thrall to a wicked Fire Lord, whose wife rose up and took the throne. Now, she ruled as Autumn’s High Lady with her seven sons. And it was the eldest that Azriel desired for his own.

He’d told his brothers, Rhysand, High Lord of Night, and Cassian, Lord of Bloodshed, just how much he needed the prince of Autumn. “Not until the Equinox,” Rhys had insisted. And Azriel was a patient male, a spymaster and a shadowsinger. He could wait for what was his.

Even as the golden cord that bound him to his mate, woven by the Mother herself, dragged at the unruly beast that was his heart. 

II

Today was the Equinox, most High Holy Day in Autumn, and all of Prythian. When Day and Night aligned in perfect balance. It was the one night each year, when the magical boundaries and borders dropped between Prythian’s courts. All fae, High and lesser, Solar and Seasonal, united as one, beneath the Mother’s loving gaze. 

Eris Vanserra, heir of Autumn, prepared for this night of revelry, like any other. He wore green velvet and diaphanous silk that whispered of trysts in moonlit forests. Gold lined his pointed ears, a single hoop in one nostril. 

Warrior, prince, fae of fire—this was his kingdom. And tonight, he would find his pleasure and replenish the land, to give back to its plenty. The prince left for the Forest, his brothers close behind. Fae danced around pyres, in time with distant drumming, already buzzing on wine, the scent of sex, sweet and smoky, in the night. 

Eris felt alive and aroused, in need of something he could not place. Soon. The drumming paused as voices hushed. Crackling bonfires and the breeze in ancient treetops were the only sounds. 

Now.

His magic was rising. It snapped beneath his tongue, itched his palms. Tingled at his fingertips, and down his spine. Until there were full sparks, flames along skin, at the tips of his hair, wreathing his hands. It was life and death and sex, to forget one’s before and after—not to become or have been, but to be.

Now. 

As his magic settled, finally, pulsing through his veins, Eris looked up in awe, ready to receive the Mother’s love. And this was why the fireling was taken so completely off guard. For it was at this very moment, while all of Prythian’s eyes were on the heavens, that Hel’s shadows and darkness came.

 *          *          *

Now. It had to be this very moment. When the wards between their courts were unguarded. Azriel commanded the shadows to bank the bonfires with darkness. Fae cried out as the earth quaked, seeming to cleave open, as the Night Court male landed silently in the darkened Forest. 

The shadowsinger reached out and with strong, scarred hands, pulled the fireling, by his narrow waist, to his chest. Mine. 

The golden thread thrummed with pleasure at the contact, at the scent of embers and rain, of the male in his arms. Amber eyes took in hazel.

 “Who are you?” a voice, breathless, but unafraid, asked in the darkness. 

“I am the singer of shadows. I am yours,” Azriel whispered back, his breath against the skin of the male’s white cheek. And then, before the Autumn fae could panic or react, they were passing through folds of space and time. 

 *          *          *

Eris was lost in the darkness, his only anchor a pair of strong arms, a solid chest, the scent of mist and moonlight on cedar.  He was holding his breath, eyes squeezed shut. 

“Open your eyes,” a low voice rumbled, laced with amusement. The Autumn prince did, and what he saw, left him speechless. He clung to the leathers of a male, built like a warrior, with enormous, bat-like wings, spread against the night sky. And this male’s beauty was heartbreaking. His raven curls were perfectly tousled, as if the wind herself had run long fingers through them. Golden brown skin, high cheekbones, and hazel eyes lined with thick lashes. 

Eris pulled away with a jolt, baring his slightly elongated canines. Flames coiled along his hands. “Take me back to my home.” He growled, with all the authority of an Autumn prince.

But the winged male simply smirked and stared. His eyes moved slowly, starting at Eris’s red hair, the flushed tips of his pointed ears, then shifted with lazy dominance, downwards, lingering at molten eyes, a perfect nose, kissed with faint freckles, to the male’s pink, pouting mouth.

Heat coiled low in the fireling’s belly, at the base of his spine, arousal licking through his veins, even as he grew angry. Who was this male, to look at the heir of Autumn, with such possession? The fae prince bared his teeth again, flames growing hotter.

Hazel eyes, unphased, unhurried, continued to move down the prince’s lithe frame. They took in the long column of a pale neck. Broad, graceful shoulders and a narrow waist. Hips that would feel perfect in his hands. 

And then, the winged male, shrouded in shadows, said, “Eris, you are home.” 

I tagged anyone who asked/expressed interest, but please lmk if you ever want on/off my 🏷️

@c-starstuff-man0, @natashachelsea @chunkypossum, @fieldofdaisiies @jir67 @futurehunt @the-darkestminds @hellolordling @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @brekkershadowsinger @disney-acotar-hp @moonpatroclus @azrisweek @unanswered-stars @theartofmischief @lilah-asteria

[elliemarchetti]

Eris Week Day 6: AU/Retellings

Inspired by one of @foxcort’s unhinged prompts because I couldn’t resist although I’m not totally out of my writing/Tumblr hiatus yet. Hope my contribution to @erisweekofficial will still be appreciated even if it’s in Cassian’s POV.

Disclaimer: I know some of you will see this more as Cassian's self-pitying account of an event that highlights his inadequacy as a mate, but in my eyes it's an excerpt of the happy life that awaits Eris and Nesta once her contacts with the Night Court will be reduced to a minimum, only from the point of view of someone who will remain in the past. Still, and for this I turn to the admins of Eris Week, if you find it inadequate for any reason you have every right not to reblog it and I won't bear you any grudge. You guys are amazing, and when my life will be a little more normal I can't wait to read everything that's been written and show some love to all the wonderful fanarts I'm sure the artists have made.

Plot: The Lord of Bloodshed is having the worst time of his life. The heir of Autumn can’t really say the same. This is the famous scene at the Court of Nightmares reimagined with a totally different plot for the whole last book so if it doesn’t really make sense, I’m sorry.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1529

When the next song began, its notes lighter, the steps easier than the ones they had just engaged in, Nesta didn’t hesitate to take Eris’s hand. She seemed eager, like her partner wasn’t the monster they all told her about but just a good dancer who instinctively knew her body screamed to do those extra, solo turns that had catalysed the attention of the whole room. Cassian realized he wouldn’t have let her go, too worried about the impractical design of her dress, too apprehensive she was drunk on the music and not paying enough attention to her surroundings to succeed.  If he had been in Eris’s place, he would’ve scolded her by the end of the music, dragging her off the dancefloor, while the heir of Autumn studied her with his amber eyes as they chatted amiably, chuckles audible here and there. The General couldn’t hear everything they said, but as they got closer he caught a few scraps, words that made the blood in his veins boil.

“… I didn’t see this side of you…”

He wasn’t smiling, but she met his stare anyway as she responded, suave and flirty. She never spoke to Cassian in that tone, always composed, almost defensive, in the rare occasions their topic hadn’t revolved around training or the thousand obligations they were subjected to due to their roles. Maybe it was because he had never spun her, never murmured sweet nothings in her ear, sentences so refined her mouth twitched to one side. Unable to witness more, he turned to Mor, who watched from beside Feyre and Rhys, her face neutral and aloof. He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling, knowing she was the one who taught Nesta those steps.

“Are you inquiring after my eligibility?” Cassian heard Eris joke, his sharp smile turning into a full-on silky laugh at her reply. As it often happened, he felt inadequate in his vulgarity, in his lack of grace. A brute, as the eldest of the Vanserras liked to define him. There was no room for someone like him by the side of a female capable of carrying a political meeting on her inexperienced shoulders and tear someone’s head from their neck in the same week. That duality, the savage rage and silver fire mixed with a beauty able to bring kings to their knees was too much for him, no matter how many times he had claimed her as his, yet his feet moved instinctively, and he reached the pair at the very end of the waltz, trying to ignore how his tapered fingers had descended into the hollow of her bare back or how her cheeks were flushed.

“Move,” Cassian said coldly, halting their private moment. He stood before them amid the sea of people cradled in black, just another piece of Night, until Eris stared at him down his straight nose, ignoring the burning violence oozing from the warrior’s hazel eyes.

“Go sit at your master’s feet, dog,” he hissed, teeth bared, but Nesta was quick to interject, accepting her mates unspoken offer.

“We’ll play later, Nesta Archeron,” the fireling retorted, putting too much emphasis on her last name for Cassian’s liking, before aiming for the dais. For an instant, really just the time of the song, the General deluded himself that he had won, that he could somehow be the knight in shining armour of the story, the hero who saves the princess from the villain and thus obtains her hand and eternal, unconditional love. Those empty illusions were shattered when he followed her into the dark and suffocating corridors of the Court of Nightmares, when he watched her slender figure enter the chamber assigned to Eris for the duration of his visit, her steps cautious and silent as a cat’s. She barely glanced at the slightly ajar door, too focused on her lover’s eager embrace, and Cassian clenched his jaw at the portrait of carefree happiness.

“You’re tickling me!” she giggled as the snake peppered her neck with light kisses, the sound like a harp strumming high and sweet. From his hiding spot, Cassian saw his nemesis’ half-smile widen as he hooked a finger under one of her dress’ straps and pulled, flooding him with pounding, vibrating jealousy. He had to remind himself to breathe when the silk slid down her chest, briefly exposing one of her breasts before Eris could sweep her to the bed, the impalpable skirt mostly gathered between her parted legs, firmly clutched around his waist. As he feasted on her exposed skin, her body went loose and taunt in so many different places Cassian didn’t know where to focus: she was bent and shaped and directed by her lover, her widened pupils hiding under long lashes thanks to the skill of the fingertips massaging her core. The ghosts of nearly faded love bites revealed themselves on the lower part of her ass as she arched her back in ecstasy and Cassian’s face went slack. It wasn’t him who left those marks on her, the memory of the sleepless night spent together forever imprinted in his memory, so she could only have had other partners, or maybe she had previously entertained herself between Eris’ sheets, protocol be damned. The matter quickly slipped out of his mind when the smell of her arousal flowed and swam around him, clouding his senses as she melted under someone else’s touch. There wasn’t enough space inside him, not in his mind or his heart, for what the situation made him feel, he just knew he was hard under his trousers, his body ready to honour and worship someone he had been unable to keep up with when he had the chance.

He was about to leave to deal with his shame when their gazes met. He would have expected those merciless and cold eyes to pin him to the spot, he supposed she would scream in anger, or perhaps warn Eris with quiet disdain that some beast beneath them was spying on their tryst, but instead her irises glimmered and she let out a moan, her flawless red lips, sin personified, parted to draw a likewise perfect O. As if awakened by that sound, her lover crawled back to her mouth, his hands busy undoing his pompous clothing. Cassian knew what was about to happen, he had watched and performed this dance for centuries, in the frenzy of inexperienced youth and in the blind search for solace when the need was too much. He had fucked females on all fours like some kind of wild animal, knees hurting on marble floors and feet losing their grips in the mud, in a foolish attempt to fill the void left by Nesta, but no one showed on their features the pure, feral delight that crashed on his mate’s face when Eris entered her all at once, like a conqueror of death, glowing as he devoured moonlit skin and shared heartbeats. Between one fast thrust and the next, he lifted Nesta’s arms above her head, their matching rings glinting as if lit by an inner fire. He guided her through the orgasm with ease and they came together, a rising cacophony of panting and groaning.

“I hope you’re with child,” he whispered, his words so shocking they made Cassian audibly gasp. There was no way he hadn’t heard the sound, even lost in his unchecked, dark joy, yet he decided to ignore it.

"Why so?" she murmured seductively, gleaming with wanton desire as she drank in his expression, whatever it was. She didn’t seem to object the idea, nor she sounded eager to postpone it as long as she could.

“It would give us an excuse to speed up the organization of this wedding. I know my father wants it to exude power, to convey all the strength of our family, and my mother wishes for every detail to be perfect, but I’m growing tired of this façade,” he replied honestly, then lovingly erased a smudge of kohl from the corner of her left eye, a remark of the familiarity they shouldn’t have had yet.

“She has no daughters and I have no mother,” she pointed out, amazing Cassian with the nonchalance she used to address her traumatic past. “Let her have fun.”

“I know, and I will never show even a hint of displeasure when she will inevitably take you away for the whole day to pick the best party favours and select the optimal spot to best showcase the sheer magnitude of the orchestra you so wisely selected, but the only thing I aspire to is to finally be able to get away from the intrigues and the backstabbing for a while, to travel wherever we want and show you all the wonders Prythian and the Continent has to offer,” he confessed, and Nesta kissed him again, dangling her love and triumph in Cassian’s face, a silent dismissal to whatever his role had been in her night.

Slowly, the fearsome Lord of Bloodshed retreated in the shadow, engulfed in a cocoon of grief and rage at the Mother’s mistake, the sound of his shattering heart deafening in his eardrums.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Double trouble

Word count: 1900+

Warnings: brawling doggos → mentions of blood and wounds

For @erisweekofficial, Day 4: Tradition/Hounds

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

It was quite warm autumn day and Eris headed to the secret pathway that led from garden straight to a long forgotten ruins of temple hidden among the trees on the hill behind the Forest House. He loved that place ever since he found it as a child and he often played between the half collapsed walls. Under the ruins dwelled source of ancient powerful magic that pulsed through the ground and called to him, filling his veins with fire, connecting him with essence of Autumn on a primal level. It didn't give him a real power though, only recharged him and his tired soul, but the experience was so magnificent that his body asked for it every now and then.

Eris was in a good mood, his steps light. His amber eyes shone happily as he imagined all the things he could do today. With Beron on a business trip and all paperwork done, he had an entire day to do whatever he wanted. Of course he was going to spend it with his hounds. There was nothing that could bring him more joy than the twelve four legged furry creatures.

He used to keep them in a stable, but ever since he took them to the ruins, they didn't want to return back to the estate. Maybe they also felt the power breathing under their paws or they just liked that place; he didn't know. It was the first and only time the whole pack disobeyed him. Thus he warded the ruins to keep them safe and turned it into their home.

When autumn heir was sure that nobody would hear him, he started to whistle melody that nonstop played in his head for weeks now. As he got closer to the ruins, the quiet forest filled with a sound of barking that was quickly getting closer. His smokehounds heard him coming and decided to go to welcome their master.

The first hound that reached him, was naturally Lightening, the fastest of them. He came running in a full speed and without slowing down jumped at Eris. Even though he expected it, the impact threw him off his legs and he landed on his back sprawled on the soft forest ground. In a blink of eye, he was surrounded by the whole pack.

The hounds barked happily, wagging their tails, jumping around him and on him. Most of them was just trying to lick his face affectionately, some wanted to be scratched between ears or have their bellies rubbed.

Eris laughed from the bottom of his heart. "Enough. I love you too, guys. It tickles." But they ignored his attempts to at least sit up and merrily continued in the game. It was rare to get their master's face within the reach.

However, two of them, namely Badger and Scotches, didn't seem to be interested in their master. They sniffed all his pockets, trying to get their snouts in. No matter how much they tried, they couldn't get inside, so they tried to tear the fabric with teeth and paws. Eris pushed them away, but they returned aiming to get some treats.

As much as Eris loved to snuggle and play with his loves, he couldn't tolerate such behaviour. He whistled shortly and hounds immediately lined up, waiting patiently.

Eris stood up, brushing the leaves and dirt from his clothes while eyeing the two miscreants. They both hung their head guilty, avoiding his eyes.

"You have to deserve them," he raised a brow at them and the rest of pack gave them judging looks, grumbling. If it wasn't for these two, they could still play with master.

Eris whistled again and hounds straightened up, their attention trained on him. As usual, Eris went through the simple commands, closely watching whether all hounds accomplished them properly. After completing command every hound was rewarded with Eris's special dog crackers that he prepared himself according to his personal secret recipe. It took him years to find the perfect balance of nutrients and good taste.

Ten hounds performed perfectly, only Badger and Scotches were sluggish and apparently didn't want to cooperate. Eris narrowed eyes at them. They ignored him though. In result, they didn't get crackers, not even once. They watched enviously as everyone around them crunched the treat between teeth, happily wagging the tails. By the time the training was over, they were frowning at Eris and angrily growling at their comrades.

Eris decided to treat his hounds with one extra portion of crackers and that was when those two snapped. Eris was giving cracker to the hound standing between them, when they launched at it almost biting into Eris's fingers in the process. He managed to yank his hand back in time before the sharp canines snapped together. Greystone that stood between them, closing eyes jerked his head back to avoid the collision.

Scotches, a bit faster one, almost got the cracker, but Badger slammed into him from the side. The treat fell to the ground and the two started to fight over it. The rest of the hounds backed up from them creating a circle around. Two brawlers growled at each other, trying to kill the opponent.

Eris took out a silver whistle that he used only rarely as Scotches was the one who usually stopped every fight between hounds. It didn't work. Completely ignoring every command, they fought rolling on the ground. When the first few drops of blood sprinkled the grass, Kama, the softest and kindest of them all, launched forward. She fearlessly jumped between them, snapping her canines at the one and then the other, but engrossed in the fight they ignored her until Kama cried out in pain. Everything including Eris's heart froze in that moment.

Badger's teeth were closed around Kama's paw, blood dripping from his muzzle. Scotches whined and backed up with ears down, cringing. Badger slowly let go of the paw and cringing and whining started to lick the injury he caused.

Eris was in a blink of eye on his knees in front of Kama, gently holding her paw to examine it. The wound was quite deep, but fortunately nothing seemed to be broken. However, it needed stitches. Immediately.

Eris quickly sent the rest of hounds back to the ruins while ordering the two culprits to sit where they were until he returned. They were injured too, but thankfully it wasn't anything serious and all wounds would heal within an hour or so on its own. On purpose, he left the cracker as it was, on the ground in front of them, so the punishment was even more severe.

He scooped Kama into his arms and winnowed with her to the closest veterinarian who usually checked the hounds and knew them well. In the end, Kama ended up needing ten stitches. The veterinarian assured him that she should be fine and heal until the next day, but Eris was worried anyway.

Despite having big plans for his day off and especially looking forward the hunt, Eris couldn't stand the idea of letting Kama alone somewhere. Instead of returning back to ruins, he headed to the Forest House. Beron was very clear when he banned bringing hounds into rooms and specifically bedrooms, so Eris had to sneak through the hallways, looking around every corner to make sure that nobody was there. His father had spies everywhere and nothing could make them happier than to report on young heir and his breaking of rules.

"Good girl," he whispered to Kama who licked his face with gratitude. "Just stay silent, okay? If they catch us we will be in a huge trouble."

When they reached his chambers' door he waved his hand to undo the ward and quickly slipped in, immediately closing the door behind. Wards fell on its place and Eris breathed out in relief. It was hard to believe they managed to get in without being caught. Real miracle.

Eris looked around, hesitating where to put his wounded hound down. She deserved the best for her bravery. He was deciding between armchair and sofa, both soft and very comfortable, when his eyes landed on a big pillow. It was decided. He tossed it on the ground in front of hearth and gently placed Kama down on it. Flicking his wrist he lit up the fire. He reached into the pocket between the worlds, taking out two bowls. He set the bowls with water and food within Kama's reach and sat down on the floor beside her, gently scratching her between ears.

"I'm so sorry for what has happened to you," he sighed and hound looked up at him as if telling him to not worry about that. She rolled on her back, letting him rub her belly. She grunted contentedly.

"I wonder why those two vagabonds were so off today. Especially Scotches. He usually doesn't fight with others like that. Did you have some misunderstandings? Hm? Would you tell me?" He leaned down, nuzzling to her soft fur. Kama just snorted like a tired mother whose children were always in some kind of trouble.

"You need a bath, do you know it?" he teased her grinning and she gave him angry look. "I think that as soon as you get well, I'll take all of you to the river and we will have a wash day. What do you think?"

Kama whined and dramatically plopped her head down on the pillow, pouting.

"Oh, c'mon. It won't be so bad. We'll have a lot of fun." She rolled her eyes, sighing through snout deeply as if saying that he would be the only one to enjoy it.

Eris spent the rest of the day taking care of his small patient. He didn't want to leave her side even for a moment and ended up sleeping on the floor with her. Thankfully, smokehounds were magical creatures and could heal pretty fast just like Fae. Next morning Kama was healthy and again stood on all four paws. At sunrise she jumped at him, licking his face until he reluctantly opened one amber eye.

"Is this repay for the bath you'll get today?" he grunted, but he was happy that she was already healed. After eating breakfast together, he successfully sneaked her out.

They walked through the forest side by side, enjoying the early morning's cool air and bird's chirping, but before they got to the ruins, they were greeted by two hounds soundly sleeping in the grass. Badger and Scotches were exactly where Eris had left them, they didn't dare to move a single inch. Even the cracker was on the same place, now half soaked with morning drew. Eris stopped, folding hands on his chest and nodded at Kama. It was her turn to get angry with them. She nodded back and quietly stalked to the sleeping brawlers. She sat down in front of them and barked.

They both jolted, immediately sitting up with ears down. They didn't dare to look at their master nor Kama, heads hanging down. Kama narrowed her eyes at them, growling lowly and gave them a proper scold. When she was done with them, she simple walked with her nose high to the ruins where the rest of hounds was waiting, watching them curiously. The rest of comrades warmly welcomed her, nuzzling to her sides and sniffing around now healed paw.

Eris stepped to the two and crouched down. "Was it necessary?" he eyed them strictly while they uncomfortably shifted from one paw to other, still too ashamed to meet his eyes.

"Today is the wash day," he announced aloud so all hounds heard him. "You two will be sitting in the water until others get washed. All the time. No exceptions. And you, Badger, will be the last to get washed. Now come. It's time for breakfast."

Both hounds stood up and followed after Eris with tails between legs, as tame as sheep.