#must all the vanserra’s suffer so?

[aphroditelovesu]

I would cry for something for a Yan! Lucien Vanserra 🥺💖

"I will love you until the day my existence fades away." — Lucien Vanserra.

❝ 🦊 — lady l: oh, how I miss Lucien, especially the one from the first book 😔 he deserves more, much more! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes!

❝tw: obsessive behavior, possessiveness, protectiveness, implied death and toxic relationships (?).

❝🦊pairing: yandere!lucien vanserra x gender neutral!reader.

Lucien Vanserra is a devoted, loving and caring male. He has lost so much and suffered so much in his life that all he wants, all he must do, is make sure his loved one is happy and safe. That is all that matters to him and Lucien will make sure his wishes are fulfilled.

He knows that his darkest thoughts are wrong and Lucien tries to fight them at any cost. His greatest fear is hurting you and he will never forgive himself if he hurts you or harms you in any way. He loves you deeply, so much so that the mere thought of hurting you makes him desperate.

Lucien idolizes his darling, puts you on a pedestal and will do anything for you. Ask him for anything and he will do it without question. He wants to please you above all else and will have no fear or qualms about going "too far" in his constant quest for your approval. He wants you to love him, to be as devoted to him as he is to you.

His obsession manifests itself in such a subtle way that you will hardly notice that there is anything wrong with the way he acts. Lucien is good at disguising his feelings and he will only make you feel what he wants you to feel: security and love. He will never let you feel fear or any kind of negative feelings towards him. Lucien cannot let that happen and he will not.

He is a master at hiding his own emotions conducting his interactions in such a way that you only notice the sweetness and dedication he exudes, having lived under the violent control of his "father" and brothers. Even when obsession takes over, Lucien manages to mask any signs of possessiveness with genuine affection, ensuring that you never see the dark side of his love. He controls his actions with precision, always maintaining a facade of perfection so that you never have reason to suspect his intentions.

Lucien's manipulation is more subtle and you will hardly notice it. His smiles, the way his eyes follow you all the time and how words with ulterior motives come out of his lips are very strong clues but again, Lucien will not let you realize how sick for you he is, how desperate. At least, for now.

Lucien is a fae male and as such, he has a high level of possessiveness over his darling. He is not the controlling type, he will never try to restrict you in any way, not when he knows very well how that could end. You will have complete freedom, of course, as long as you never risk your life, Lucien will leave you free to do whatever you wish.

Although he will never act in a way that could hurt you, Lucien is still very possessive and does not like the idea of ​​other males around you, especially if he does not trust them. He will growl, show his teeth and make his disdain clear, his words sarcastic but full of venom and, if it is really necessary, Lucien will drive them away from you permanently.

Having lost so much and suffered at the hands of people who should love him, Lucien is somewhat paranoid and protective of you, but he will always be careful not to overstep your bounds. Lucien is protective to the extent that he can control it, never forcing himself into your life and always respecting your space, even if it destroys him inside. You are more important to him than the obsession that increasingly consumes him.

You are the light that guides him in the darkness, especially after the traumatic events of Under the Mountain. You keep him going, an extra motivation to fight and stay strong. Lucien almost sees you as a kind of deity, always worshiping and adoring you wherever you go. There is nothing this male wouldn't do for you. He will love you, and be devoted and loyal to you completely.

Lucien will spoil you with anything you desire. One of his love languages ​​is to give you things he knows you will like. Absolutely anything you desire, anything you want to ask for, is yours. Just ask and you shall have it. Lucien will feel useful when he can provide for you and he loves the smile you give him when you receive something you like, so ask for it.

Lucien Vanserra is, above all, a man who strives to be worthy of the love he receives. He wants to be the fortress that protects you, the safe haven where his darling can rest in peace, without fear. And it is this devotion that guides him, that gives meaning to everything he does, even if some of these things are monstrous. He knows that true love requires sacrifices, and for him, there is no sacrifice too great if it means your happiness and safety.

[futurehunt]

"You're not the person I want to explain myself to." -Eris Vanserra and his hidden motives

The story of Eris Vanserra haunts me. At this point, most of the characters in ACOTAR are an open book in terms of their backgrounds but Eris's is still so shrouded in mystery and I have to know more. Consider this the inspiration for my following lengthy analysis of all the Eris Vanserra scenes we've been given. Additional inspiration being this clip of SJM from a since deleted live stream on Instagram (still available on YouTube) :

Love that SJM says that Eris is her favorite Autumn Court character but more importantly she spills a little detail about Eris having a secret history and a secret motivation behind his character. I think most readers assumed by now that Eris is primed for a redemption arc but this simply could've been reserved to him making amends for leaving Mor injured in the woods. No, this is something more than that- something significant that affected his actions back then and is still influencing them now.

Let's start breaking everything down:

Everything starts with: Eris found and left Mor in the woods at the Autumn Court border after she was tortured dumped there by her father, Keir.

Why did he do this?

“I knew why you did it... So I gave you your freedom, ending the betrothal in no uncertain terms" - Eris in ACOWAR

After Mor slept with Cassian, Eris knew Mor did it because she wanted out of the engagement (for a secret reason- on her end- that we'll touch on in a bit) so he ended the betrothal as she wished.

But why did Eris leave her there, injured with fatal wounds? This is still the biggest point of hostility between him and the IC.

"There were forces at work that you have never considered," Eris said coldly. "And I am not going to waste my breath explaining them to you. Believe what you want about me" - ACOWAR

What are these forces?

We're given an answer to this question during a scene in ACOFAS when Mor is recalling the memory of that day at the Autumn Court border.

“No one touches her,” he said. Eris. “The moment we do, she’s our responsibility.” Cold, unfeeling words. “But—but they nailed a—” “No one touches her.” - ACOFAS

If Eris or his men provided aid to Mor she would've become their responsibility, implying that she would've become a ward of the Autumn Court essentially. This is probably why Keir even dumped her on the border in the first place, because he knew that if the Autumn Court provided her aid they would have to assume responsibility for her. It was created as a lose-lose situation for Mor: get help from Eris and be trapped at the Autumn Court or be refused help and left to suffer and potentially die in the woods.

“I take it you do not wish to live here, Morrigan.” She would rather die here, bleed out here. She would rather die and return—return as something wicked and cruel, and shred them all apart. He must have read it in her eyes. A small smile curved his lips. “I thought so.” -ACOFAS

He knew she'd rather die than live there so he acted according to her wishes, even though it was done cruelly. This scene, which we're given from Mor's perspective, shows that she heard the true reason why Eris refused to provide her aid but because of the trauma of the whole situation she likely never put two and two together.

But the situation is a bit more complex than that. There is more to the reason that Eris left her in the woods to have her freedom.

“Eris nodded to where Mor watched them from beside Feyre and Rhys, her face neutral and aloof. “She knows the truth but has never revealed it." “Why?” “Because she is afraid of it.” - ACOSF; dance scene between Nesta and Eris

Eris knows something about Mor that she's afraid to reveal. What's the only fact we know about Mor that she's been hiding her entire life? That she's queer. It seems somehow Eris was aware of this.

“Eris looked between them, smiling faintly. Secretly. As if he knew something that Azriel didn’t. "I knew why you did it" Again that secret smile that had Mor shrinking." -ACOWAR

Later on in ACOWAR, we find out the big secret Mor is hiding is that she's romantically attracted to females. Alright, so somehow Eris knew Mor was queer back when they were betrothed. It seems that this was part of the reason he left her to her freedom.

Despite the cruel nature he's described to have, Eris keeps the knowledge that Mor is queer to himself. Eris left Mor in the woods because he knew she wanted her freedom and the reason she wanted her freedom was because she is queer. Out of some uncharacteristic kindness, Eris won't share this information with the rest of the IC because he seems to not want to out her because he knows she's afraid of the truth. Refer to the quote between Eris and Nesta above for proof of this.

But what are Eris's own secret motivations in all of this?

“So I gave you your freedom, ending the betrothal in no uncertain terms.”

“And what happened next,” Azriel growled.

A shadow crossed Eris’s face. “There are few things I regret. That is one of them. But … perhaps one day, now that we are allies, I shall tell you why. What it cost me.”

This is such an important line and one that if you don't dissect it properly, you won't understand it's real meaning.

"What it cost me". The cost that Eris is referring to is one that he suffered as a result of leaving Mor unaided in the woods. NOT from breaking the engagement, from leaving her. "The cost" is something that would've been unaffected by breaking the engagement (because Eris has no remorse over that) but affected by abandoning an injured Mor (because this is what Eris labels as one of the few things he regrets). Mor being left in the woods was, in the grand scheme of things, inconsequential for the rest of Prythian. The only people negatively affected by it were Mor and the rest of the IC.

"Perhaps one day... I shall tell you why" when Eris says this, he means: perhaps one day he'll them why he regrets it, NOT why he did it. It's important to read this quote in the context of its surrounding passages because you'll see that he had an opportunity to explain why he left her but he instead tells Mor he's not going to "waste his breath explaining it to her."

So after breaking down those lines we know: Eris regrets abandoning Mor because of something it cost him in relation to the IC now hating him after the events at the border but "the cost" is something he's hesitant to reveal to them.

For the sake of the analysis, let's go over a few things we know Eris does canonically care about and why they are not the cost he's referring to:

His father's throne: It's not secret that Eris wants to usurp his father. Feyre even notes how startled she was to hear Eris discuss killing his father so blatantly. Also, if the marriage to Mor would've aided Eris in taking the throne then Eris would've expressed remorse at ending the engagement but he didn't. He only regretted leaving her injured.

His mother, Lady of Autumn: The text shows us that Eris is concerned over the welfare of this mother when he angles his body to protect her during the High Lord meeting scene. However at the time of Eris's betrothal to Mor, his mother wasn't miserable in her marriage the way she's described now. It wasn't until LoA's affair with Helion was revealed, which happened decades after the Eris and Mor situation, that Beron began abusing his wife. Of course, Eris undoubtedly wants his father dead because of this but we know it's not "the cost" that Eris references since it wasn't a factor at the time.

“Helion shrugged. “On and off for decades. Until Beron found out. They say the lady was all brightness and smiles before that. And after Beron was through with her. You saw what she is.” “What did he do to her?” “The same things he does now.” Helion waved a hand. “Belittle her, leave bruises where no one but him will see them.” - ACOWAR

Lucien: Eris has a soft spot for Lucien but he wasn't born for decades after everything happened so he can't be a factor in why Eris regrets his actions.

His father tortures him: It's revealed at the end of ACOSF that Beron tortures Eris after Cassian realizes Eris is injured after returning back from Autumn. We're not told how long it's been occurring and Eris is extremely reluctant to speak on the matter. However, if this was the big secret Eris has been hiding there'd be a bit more emphasis placed on the reveal. In fact, Cassian pushes him again after that to tell him the true reason he left Mor on the border (keep in mind Cassian doesn't know Mor is queer and Eris is refusing to reveal that information to others) and asks Eris for the real reason he's back the Night Court trying to make amends.

Why is Eris back at the Night Court after everything that happened, pushing so hard to build an alliance?

When pushed for the truth, Eris tells Cassian:

"You're not the person I want to explain myself to" - ACOSF

Cassian assumes Eris means Mor and tells him she won't want to hear his explanations anyway. But is Mor really the person Eris was referencing. I think not, given we've been given these lines:

Eris nodded to where Mor watched them from beside Feyre and Rhys, her face neutral and aloof. “She knows the truth but has never revealed it." -ACOSF

"There were forces at work that you have never considered," Eris said coldly. "And I am not going to waste my breath explaining them to you. Believe what you want about me"- ACOWAR

Eris says that Mor already knows the truth and has explicitly said he doesn't care what she thinks about him. He has nothing to explain to her. And aside from those two facts, which already make it clear enough that Mor is not the person Eris meant, what more would Eris gain from speaking to Mor? Assuaging his guilt? That could be a reasonable explanation if it weren't for Cassian already asking Eris if guilt is what was motivating him, Cassian realizing it's not and pushing for Eris to "give me a damn answer".

"You're not the person I want to explain myself to"

So, who in the IC does Eris want to explain himself to?

Mor? No, for reasons stated above

Cassian? No, they're speaking in that scene and if Cassian were the person then Eris wouldn't have said that

Feyre? Nesta? Elain? Weren't alive so aren't applicable

Lucien? Wasn't alive during the incident and is thus unaffected

Rhysand? We're told in ACOSF (Chapter 7) that Eris already has Rhysand's trust and allyship

Amren? I guess I can't necessarily eliminate Amren as the person Eris wants to explain himself to but let's be real, it's not her.

Azriel? Hmm....The person who arguably hates Eris more than even Mor herself. Who has such a burning passionate rage towards Eris that he attacked him during a High Lord meeting, yet also dropped everything to fly to the Continent to save Eris when he was abducted by Koschei.

Conclusion and remaining questions

Let's put everything together:

Eris is back at the Night Court attempting to smooth things over, make amends, and build an allyship. On the surface, we're told it's all because he wants the throne. But what we now know from SJM (in her interview) and our textual analysis is that Eris paid a big, deeply personal price due to the fall out of leaving Mor injured at the Autumn Court border. This cost was directly tied to the IC's perception of him. Eris lost something or the chance at something when the Night Court began to hate him. So he's back, 500-ish years later, attempting to make amends because of the same problem that plagued him all those centuries ago. We also know there's only one person he's interested in explaining himself to- and that person interestingly seems to be Azriel. Why would Eris want to explain himself to Azriel? Why go to these lengths to make amends with him? Was "the cost" Eris paid 500 years ago tied to Azriel?Is this all tied to Eris's "secret history and secret motivations" that SJM referenced? Crack theory time: What if Eris and Azriel are mates? If they are, it would seem maybe Eris knows about it but Azriel isn't consciously aware? It could explain Azriel's extreme and passionate reactions to Eris. What if when Eris became an enemy of the Night Court he lost his chance at having a connection to his mate. It would also explain why Eris is so tight lipped about his secret motivations. We know that Beron tortures Eris as he is now, imagine what he would do to Eris if he found out he was queer. If Eris is queer it would also explain his empathy to Mor and his reluctance to tell her truth to other people. This could also explain why Azriel is the one person Eris wants to explain himself to, because Azriel is the only person whose opinion he cares about. AND this would also provide an answer to the great "Azriel mate debate". I know Gwynriel is a popular theory but the text has not given us any indication that they are (yes, bonus chapter included) and Azriel had never displayed any mate-like behavior around her. Eris and Azriel also provide interesting foils to one another: flame and shadow- which is a theme that's mentioned in both of SJM's other series. We also know how much SJM loves her enemies to lovers.

"There was an icy rage in Azriel I'd never been able to thaw" -Rhysand in ACOMAF

Azriel is routinely described as icy and frozen, physically and emotionally. What better to thaw ice than fire!

If you read this far- thank you and ily.

Feel free to let me know if you have any critiques to my reasoning!

[violetasteracademic]

I know this has been said a million times in a million ways, but I humbly request an audience to September Virgo out for a hot minute and share my dissertation on why the "Three Brothers and Three Sisters is *lazy writing*" take is by far the WORST.

If you found me through my Lucien Vanserra's Hero's Journey breakdown (I'll link that at the end) then you already know I am an absolute nerd about book structure. I do not beef with the other ships and genuinely love and am interested in every character in these shipwars. But I get a little hot when I see this take!

The reason being is that 3 and 3 is not "lazy writing." Lazy writing is:

⚫ Conveniently de-escalating all current stakes and conflicts established in the service of a romantic pairing.

⚫ Poorly pacing a book because now we have to explain why a character was thinking about offering another character 1 ticket to ride his face, but now he quickly wants someone else instead that many people offline don't even know about. Structure wise- (we are talking three act structure here, again I have broken that down in the link I'll post below) this means that by the end of Act One, the act in which the lead of our story has been presented with all of the information and their story has been laid out, they are now crossing into Act Two with clarity and set up, (side note-the first act is typically resolved within the first 20% of the book (or less!) we must resolve an existing romance with one character that has not even gotten its opportunity to be told in depth (i.e. Feyre and Tamlin). And reasonably introduce a new romance. As well as the introduction of new plotlines to accommodate the new romance. It's just... it's a plot and pacing nightmare. I'm getting the sweats even thinking about it.

⚫ Ignoring years worth of details and foreshadowing in an act of fan service because the fandom decided they don't like your character, even if you, as the author, very much do.

⚫ Introducing a brand new plot in the middle of a smorgasbord of unresolved plotlines so a newly introduced side character who has already had a complete arc in service of another main character can now become the next main character, leapfrogging over the remaining main characters who have been around since book one with active storylines in development.

Three and three is not "lazy writing." Three is simply a motif. A motif is an artistic/literary device. Three sisters. Three brothers. Three mountains. Three stars on the night court insignia, ect.

Writing is: Structure. Line level prose. Obstacles. Stakes. Character arcs.

I will absolutely allow the criticism that it is cheesy or corny. That is an opinion, and you are totally allowed to have it. We can respectfully disagree on that and it's no skin off my back.

However, Elriel (as well as Vassien) have the elements that *good* writing is comprised of. Characters with steadily increasing arcs. Obstacles at every turn. Incredibly high stakes. And in my opinion (though of course everyone is allowed their own opinion on this!) some downright BREATHTAKING one liners and line level prose in their interactions from ACOMAF all the way to the bonus chapter.

Please, I beg of you, understand that just because you do not like something does not make it lazy or poorly executed. Art is subjective, and when we use our taste to make objective assertions about things we don't prefer, art suffers.

For more on book structure and the possibilities of Lucien and Vassa's absolutely beautiful potential, hop on over here:

Thank you for your time 😂

[crazy-ache]

Elain Archeron x Lucien Vanserra Fanfiction Check out my full list below.

Multichapter

Title: Animal Instincts SFM | Cat!Elain | Multichapter WIP When Elain is unexpectedly transformed into a cat, Lucien thankfully comes to her rescue. Well, she would be more grateful, if he also wasn't so incredibly infuriating.

Title: ACOWAR (Elucien's Version) NSFW | Canon Divergent AU | Multichapter WIP One moment. All it takes is one singular moment to change the trajectory of fate. Following the events of Hybern, everything changes when Lucien instinctively grabs his mate—Elain Archeron—and brings her back to the Spring Court with Feyre and Tamlin.

Title: So Sick of Dreaming NFW | PWP | Multichapter - COMPLETE When Elain falls sick, the feverish dreams entangle with her visions. Wickedly erotic dreams involving her mate, Lucien Vanserra, that feel almost too real...

Title: Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: An Epistolary Fic (in collaboration with @zenkindoflove) SFW | Letter Fic | Multichapter - COMPLETE After the winter solstice in ACOSF, Elain and Lucien exchange letters as a means to get to know each other away from prying eyes.

Title: Divine Punishments NSFW | Elain Saves Spring | Multichapter HIATUS Elain foresees a curse in the form of terrible visions. An unexplained plague was coming and the immortal fae were going to suffer and die by the rotten sickness. She needs to meet her fate—with her powers and her mating bond—if she hopes to save Spring.

Oneshots

Title: Beasts Inside Us NSFW | Lucien Rescues Elain | Smut | Oneshot While staying in the mortal lands with the Band of Exiles, Elain Archeron stumbles across a familiar face from her past. Only Graysen wants revenge. Her only hope is that her mate, Lucien Vanserra, can save her—in more ways than one.

Title: Separate My Body From My Soul NSFW | Elain Rescues Lucien | Forced Mating Bond | Oneshot “I am Elain Archeron, sister of the High Lady of Night, Feyre the Cursebreaker. I’ve come to demand the release of Lucien Vanserra back to the custody of the Night Court.”

"And why would I do that?" The High Lord of Autumn demanded.

“Because he is my mate.”

When Lucien Vanserra is held captive by his father in the cruel depths of Autumn, there is only one force more powerful than politics that can save him—his mating bond with Elain Archeron. She must make the choice to save him, even if it means binding their souls forever.

Title: Call Me Selfish, Call Me Wrecked NSFW | Arranged Marriage | Smut | Oneshot Like countless times before, they’re dangling Elain in front of him without a mention of her name. And for once, Lucien decides to selfishly take it. “I’ll marry her,” he pretends to investigate his nails, even if his heart is about to burst from his fucking chest. “But only if she agrees to it as well. That’s my only condition.”

Elain agrees. Lucien learns the consequences of not shutting up.

Title: A Cut Above the Rest SFW | Oneshot | Elain and Lucien on the run “Wait!” Elain clambered to her feet, jumping off the bed. He looked at her expectedly, dagger in one hand and a handful of hair in the other. What was there to say? That she had always secretly adored his hair just the way it was? That he couldn’t possibly cut it before she even had the chance to run her fingers through it? “Let me do it,” she said.

While on the run in the Continent, Elain and Lucien must discuss what has remained unspoken after a frightening incident.

Title: Courting Lucien Vanserra NSFW | Idiots to Lovers | 2/3 Chapters Completed “I think it may be too late for us, that I was a wretch for far too long and now he wants nothing to do with me—” Elain blurted out in a teary confession to her sisters. Nesta, face like stone, hissed. “Then there is only one thing left to do. You must thoroughly and ardently court him.”

Elain’s tears stopped rolling down her face with utter confusion. “Court him?”

“You need to seduce Lucien,” Feyre clarified with a feral grin.

Title: bet on me SFW | Drinking Games | Oneshot Elain is caught sulking at her sister's mating ceremony. Lucien wagers a drinking game to prove who knows the other best.

“Go on. Tell me all about myself, Lucien Vanserra.”

And there is the matter of something charged sitting between them at the table. He was challenging her. An invitation for friction, a consideration to be included in the joke, a bid to entwine in something deliciously improper. Elain could not remember the last time anyone had offered her anything remotely tantalizing.

Title: i would stay forever (just don't go) SFW | Oneshot “You! You torment me, Lucien. Day and night. You fill my dreams and nightmares." Elain struggles to know what is real and not real. And only Lucien can help.

Title: in eternal bloom SFW | Lucien Meets Papa | Oneshot On the quest to find the sixth mortal queen, Lucien Vanserra meets a human with brown eyes and that same stubborn Archeron nose. Together, on their search for Vassa, Lucien befriends Elain’s father, and learns a bit more about his mate.

Title: curses and gifts SFW | GroundhogDayAU! | Oneshot

In which Elain is cursed to live that fateful day with the Cauldron again and again and again. Until a choice is made.

Drabbles

Title: Choke on Desire Drabbles | Crossposted on Tumblr | Various Genres If we do the unthinkable, would it make us look crazy? If you ask me, I'm ready.

[xreaderbooks]

All I breathe (4)

Pair: Azriel x Vanserra Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: language, violence, mentions of abuse, PTSD, death

Summary: The time has come for Y/n to do her duty as court emissary and meet with the High Lord of the Autumn Court. She experiences the effects of what it is to be back at Court and a little bonding time with her brother.

Playlist

Available on Wattpad and AO3

Masterlist - Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Azriel was gone the moment you awoke. He left no sign of him sleeping on the floor, no sign that he was here at all. You praised the gods for that, you didn’t want to see his stupid arrogant face after all that was said the day prior. You rolled your eyes so hard at the memory it hurt. Fuck him.

You refreshed yourself in the washroom, staring into the mirror, you had to muster up all the courage you could to face your family. You had to be prepared for every and anything they would throw at you. The girl that reflected back on you was weak and afraid. The same girl who you were all those years ago, you were right back where you started. A hell of your own making.

You would change that. The dresses that were put in your wardrobe were new, more mature like they could sense what you have become- what they thought of you now. You supposed you should be grateful they hadn’t had it in their mind that you are how you were before, what would be worse?

Do you make them underestimate you? Have them be blind to what truly lies beneath so they wouldn’t dare think that their poor pathetic little Y/n couldn’t possibly betray them? Or Do you let them suffer and writhe under your newfound power? You were a highly regarded member of the Night Court and they shall treat you as such. The latter was what you needed to portray yourself as if you believed it- so would they, and they would not dare undermine you.

You called upon the handmaidens that were assigned to you when you arrived. An intricate hairstyle was familiar to one you donned as a girl, one you knew your disgusting brothers loved to see you in. Remind them that you did not forget the past and that you have grown. Dark shadowed coal lined your eyes, with a dark rouge on your lips, intense maturity was what you were going for and the handmaidens had done you justice.

Power was what stared back at you in the mirror of your vanity. The dress you wore would show them that you were a part of the Night Court now, not to be fucked with.

Eris was standing at your threshold with a hand behind his back, one hand up, and ready to knock. Your handmaidens who opened the door and were about to leave gasped and curtseyed murmuring their apologies.

He chuckled, “They are frightened so easily.”

You gave him an unamused look, flattening your dress in your lap before standing. You held your chin high, the beginning of your act. You were not her any longer, you were not afraid. “Must you be so… you.”

It was his turn to be unamused, “You used to be fun.”

“I used to want to hide my face from embarrassment every time you opened your mouth.”

He inhaled deeply, “I’ve come to escort you to your meeting.”

“Father’s orders?” You assumed he would want to keep a close eye on you. You dreaded the hours to come, for some reason you hoped would be explained, Beron had requested you sit in on the Court meetings. Meetings that had no time for breakfast.

He ignored you and offered up his arm, you linked yours with his and began to walk in the direction of the room where all the boring officials held their business. Silence greeted you once you stepped through the door, and your heart increased its pace, this was one part of emissary work you could not stand. Boring old meetings full of business you truly did not want to discuss. You wished your work was more exciting, spywork was one you would enjoy if you got to set your own terms.

Alas, Azriel did not trust you and you did not want to report to him any more than you already had to. At least this way you got to spend time with your brother and he could be the mediator between the two of you, bonus was when he handled the boring bits for you. You weren’t much for politics, and didn’t know how to manipulate conversations for the sake of political power so much as manipulating people into telling you information with ease.

It should be an easier job for you considering the means were practically identical. Except, one involved bargaining, tit for tat and the other was just chit-chat.

Your father barely greeted you as you took your seat in the chair you assumed was assigned to you. The meeting went on with Autumn Court business that the Night Court didn’t have anything to concern itself with, at least nothing was spoken of in your presence.

A second meeting was held with some merchants, trading, and such. By the third meeting, you were out of it. Your eyes were blurred with boredom but you held onto every word that could be coded, nothing interesting. To keep yourself awake, you picked at the loose skin around your nail bed, you didn’t even flinch as a pinprick of blood appeared. You sighed as they spoke.

Eris was seated to the right of your father, chiming in at times only to be judged harshly by him. It was your only form of amusement. By the time all the other fae had exited the room, Beron, you, and Eris were left. A servant appeared from a secret door holding a tray of wine and fruit.

“What a shock it was to hear that my only daughter had traded her allegiance to her former husband's enemy?,” Beron swirled his wine thrice before sipping. “You must tell me what it is that allures you to the Court of nightmares.”

The confrontation caught you off guard, you had expected him to dance around the subject of your arrival. Perhaps make a game of it, but he hadn’t bothered to waste his time.

“The company I suppose.”

“Over the company of your own blood?” As if he ever cared about the family of all things.

That’s what this was. The endless hours of meetings with no food, a tactic to exhaust you before he dug his claws in you. Rile you up so that you may slip out unwarranted information. Though the torture was meant for you, your father appeared to be more worn out than you were.

He sighs, pinching his forehead with his thumb and index. “What brings you here, Child?”

“I do not know what you mean, Father.” You imitated his movements, “Perhaps I just wanted to visit the Court I love the most.”

Eris snorted, alerting you both that he was still in the room. Beron eyed him and refocused his attention on you, “You’re not stupid, stop acting like it.”

You held your chin up high, resisting any temptation to lower your head and pick at your nails. The tell of yours was well known in your family, it would too easily give off a signal of your nerves, you couldn’t have that.

“I was sent to assure the safe arrival of my lords spymaster,” You cleared your throat. “Our courts have not always seen eye to eye and as your daughter, I was to be seen as leverage.”

He waited for you to continue, he was the one who asked and yet he didn’t care for a word you said.

“A prisoner of ours has been known to cross your border,” Not the truth but not exactly a lie. That was the best form of manipulation, Beron could suspect all he wanted but he would not know what fully lies beneath if he ever wanted to look into it. “We only need time to investigate, and retrieve said prisoner and we’ll be out of your hair.”

Beron hummed in thought, the only indication he was listening at all. “Very well.”

Eris’ face was pensive, he must not have bought what you were selling but he wasn’t the one who needed to be convinced.

“He will be here in a day once word is sent of your approval.”

“I must know of what importance this prisoner is to your High Lord.” He leaned back in his chair.

You rolled your shoulders back in an attempt to ease the tension that threatened to show, “I’m afraid I am not privy to such information. I’ve told you all that I know.”

You prayed that he would not press, save any further investigation for a later date. Preferably when your stomach was full and you had a conversation with Azriel on how to proceed. Gods knows you don’t need to fuck up this mission, especially because of your deep-rooted issues with your family.

Thankfully your prayers were answered and he had grumbled for you to leave but not before vocalizing his last request, “You will bring me the prisoner once he has been caught.”

The air left your lungs as you gave him a tight nod, turning and exiting the large wooden doors of the meeting room. Eris led you out, staying close behind you. You marched straight for the kitchens which were several levels below where you were now, bursting through the doors, the servants stared in shock as they tried to process what just happened. You ignored them and beelined toward the food that was being plated for what you assumed was for lunch.

You scarfed down the pastry that sat on the plate so prettily before, crumbs on the corners of your lips, you reached for another hoping to eat your worries away.

“Not very ladylike of you,” Eris tugged on a stray hair.

You swatted his hand away and with a full mouth you told him to ‘fuck off’, he wrinkled his nose. You leaned on the wooden table where you acquired your food, he leaned beside you.

“A wonder how you managed to find yourself a husband with those manners, especially one like Tamlin.”

Your throat begged for water when you swallowed the roll of bread that you stuffed fully into your mouth. “Not surprising, you haven’t found yourself a wife with the way you taunt a female for eating when she has been deprived of what gives her body fuel. If you must be near me, be useful and fetch something to drink, will you?”

He gave you an appalled expression yet he left and brought back what you asked for. You chugged it down, wiping with the back of your hand any free droplets of water.

“What in Cauldron's name happened to you?” Eris searched your face as if it will give him any semblance of an answer.

“Do you actually even care?” You asked though you knew he truly didn’t. You were always the same person, you just didn’t hide it anymore. They couldn’t hurt you into submission, they couldn’t groom you to be their perfect little spy anymore. You didn’t have to hide your personality to fit into the standard of females that they thought could get males to spill every detail of their life with a line of seduction.

“Would it be so hard to believe that I do?” He glanced around to see if any servants were listening in. You’ve had enough of him and the rest of your family for the rest of the day, your goal was to stroll around the forest, get a lay of the land.

You simply walked away but apparently, the words exchanged were not enough for him, he grasped your elbow, and you whirled around to face him. You looked at where he held you, he realized his mistake and let go.

“I- I do care for you, sister.” He visibly struggled to get the words out, your eyebrows arched in confusion. He searched around once again for any onlookers before whispering, “I wish to help you.”

“I don’t need any help,” You insisted.

“The meeting with father might have gone well today but I must advise you to keep your wits about you while you are here,” He pressed. “There could be something amiss.”

“What do you know that I don’t?”

“Nothing yet,” He shrugged. “But you know as well as I do that our family is not a merciful one and if you have any ulterior motives, act carefully. He is having you watched though he has nothing to persecute you with.”

You took what he said into consideration, Beron didn’t have any proof that anything was amiss. So far so good, everything was going according to plan and if Eris is being truthful, you gained an ally.

You swallowed your pride and gave him a grateful nod, “Thank you.”

“There is a ball being held tomorrow night,” He called out to you once you were a few feet away. “In your honor, it was meant to be a surprise by the High Lord but I don’t think you’re fond of them.”

You continued down your path without responding and jeered at his attempt to show that he knew you in some way, but you appreciated the heads up. You would have to form a plan.

~~~

The sun had set by the time you came back to your room, you strolled through a nearby town that you used to frequent, bought a bouquet of blue fire lilies, and window-shopped the rest of the day. Despite the drama of being back where all the darkest parts of your childhood were held, you found beauty in the simplicity of life.

You sighed as you entered the room, slipping off the heels and setting the flowers that you had put into a clear vase on your bedside table, you summoned the fae light to brighten your dark room and you were met with a tall dark figure that had walked out of the washroom.

“Cauldron,” You cried out clutching your chest. You saw the familiar glow of the Shadowsingers' blue siphons and your heartbeat decreased its pace after a couple of seconds.

He stood at the threshold of the washroom, his eyes wandering over your body and around the room. You assumed he was sussing out if there were any threats from the sound of your shock.

Once he deemed the room safe, as always he ignored you and went about with whatever post-mission routine he had to unwind. You showered and washed the day off of you, the makeup from earlier was gone and you missed the mask that it gave you.

You settled yourself in your bed, you opted to skip out on dinner, and you ate plenty before returning to the palace so that you didn’t have to endure another meeting with your family. Luckily, Beron hadn’t sent for you the rest of the night, all was clear.

You and Azriel didn’t speak even as he prepared his sleeping set up on the floor. You turned over so that it would be easier to ignore the male on the ground willing sleep to take over.

Nothing had gone as planned, your brothers were waiting for you and you were waiting on your secret lover. This was foolish- sneaking about for little over three months with a boy who was wanted, while still doing your side missions for them. You were bound to get caught and what would you do then? What will he do? He was risking his life just being acquainted with you and yet he was still here. He loved you and you loved him.

You should have set the trap for your brothers to arrest him weeks ago, months ago. He knew, you told him as much, he charmed his way into letting him live and you let him. He was the only one of the men who hadn’t tried to assault you in some way or other. The bar was low but considering the fact that the only love you knew was from your twin and your mother, whenever you were allowed to see her, you craved kindness.

The forest was where he held your dates, a part of the woods that was forbidden for its dangers, after a quick scope of the area done by you and your lover- you had deemed it safe for your secret dates. He was never late to not a single one knowing how risky your rendezvous’ were, and he also never failed to tell you how precious his time with you was.

Five minutes had passed and suddenly you heard shouting in the distance. Anxiety gnawed at you, what if he had been caught? Who caught him? Maybe you could talk your way into gaining his freedom. No, you refused to believe that he was captive.

Every instinct in your body urged you to stay away but you couldn’t, if he was in danger you would go to him. You didn’t have to run far before seeing two of your brothers with their arms locked around him while the third repeatedly punched his face, he was unrecognizable. Bloody snot dripped down his nose, one eye was more swollen than the other though you were sure they would soon be matching.

His mouth sputtered out blood, he was trying to speak, perhaps to warn you to run.

“Stop!” You screamed in horror. “Stop please!”

Suddenly you were trapped in strong arms pulling you away, you fought him- Eris- he attempted to carry you away but you pried his arms away from you and ran towards your brothers. Your throat was raw at how loudly you pleaded with them to leave him alone. They didn’t stop, they beat him to the point of no pulse.

Your heartbeat raced, an overwhelming sensation pounding that rang in your ears. Your brothers released his body, letting it drop with no regard for the corpse that was your love. You fell to your knees next to him, you held onto his misshapen face and our chest heaved as you let out a blood-curdling scream that could be heard throughout the whole Court.

You woke with a start, a gasp that reminded you that you were alive. You were alive and he wasn’t, it had been a century since you lost your love yet it didn’t stop hurting. You felt your heartbeat through your ears, it slowed its pace with every breath that you took. You hadn’t realized the wetness of your cheeks until a sob clawed its way up your throat. The pain from your nightmare- your reality was all too real. In your sitting position on the bed, you pulled your knees to your chest with a hand covering your mouth to halt any noise that threatened to escape.

If only the Shadowsinger hadn’t chosen to block the path to the washroom, you would be able to hide away in there. Unfortunately, if you so much as tiptoed over his body he would be alerted.

As if the mere thought of him raised him from sleep, you heard him shuffle and suddenly half of his torso appeared from the side of the bed. It was too late to toss yourself under your covers and pretend you were sleeping, though you had thought about it. If you laid down now you already knew that the sobs you tried so hard to contain would leave you. You silently begged that he wouldn’t make a cruel comment about your vulnerable state.

To your favor, he didn‘t. He didn’t go back to sleep either, he rose from his spot on the floor and sat with half of his body on the bed. His head moved slightly in a nod, his eyes half-lidded from sleep, he was asking you to scoot over. You frowned at him quizzically but moved over twice to give him space.

Somehow the lack of clothing between the both of you didn’t seem to bother you, he was without a shirt (he must have taken it off after you had fallen asleep) you were sure he had one on every time he’d gone to bed. He wore only his underwear and you had on one of the many silk nightgowns that were hung in the wardrobe. You felt the heat radiating off of his body as you were sure he could feel yours from the closeness.

“What are you doing?” You croaked out, the tightness in your throat making your voice come out with a slight rasp.

“I will not ask you to speak about what happened if you do not wish to,” He licked his lips. “I know what it is to be haunted by memories.”

Part of you wanted to shove him off the bed and scream but you didn’t. You had no fight in you, you were tired and hurt. Your heart ached painfully for the boy who taught you that there was beauty in life, for the boy who knew of the horrors you’ve experienced, had sentenced others to go through- and had loved you. The boy who did not live. A tortured sound came from your lips, your head fell onto your arms that were held up by your knees. Your shoulders shook from the sobs, you didn’t care if he saw you like this anymore, you didn’t care about anything anymore if you were being honest.

You could feel the hesitation off him, you felt the weight upon your shoulders. You looked up at him with wet eyelashes questioning his every move and motive, he simply pulled you closer. Your head lay in the crook of his neck, his hand that you were now suddenly aware was gloveless, held you by your waist.

He held you in this position until dawn broke until the tears ran out and you were a sniffling mess. Just now he had shifted your bodies so that you lay on his muscled bicep, facing him. He hadn’t fallen asleep, staying awake the entire time without a word of complaint on how he didn’t get sleep. He wiped away any stray tears from your cheeks and once he was satisfied dropped his hand. He made sure that it wasn’t touching you more than it already had.

You whispered his name the moment his eyes started to glaze over with sleep, he hummed in response. You faintly traced the scars on the hand that lay between you, “Thank you for being here.”

His thumb grazed the top of your hand. “Sleep, Firewielder. You’re safe now.”

~~~

Next Chapter

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[k-daydreams]

Touch in the Dark: pt. i

Pairing: Rhysand x fem!Vanserra!reader

Based of this ask

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: abuse, angst, poorly proofread

Author’s note: I got really inspired w this one and got carried away per usual! This is going to be a mini fic at most a 3 part!!

⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃

The sensuous tremor of the music rumbled through the room. Another night for Amarantha to make a fool of someone, you thought as you arrived at her throne room with your brothers. You stood by Eris, a mask of a scowl on your face as you watched her court be merry—if that’s why you could call it. All dancing, grinding on one another, drinking the fae wine, and over indulging on food. To be so fortunate to think this prison was homely must have been an ignorant bliss you hadn’t had the privilege to think. You had hardly found the appetite to eat twice a day if it weren’t for your eldest brother and mother.

Years turned into decades, and the relentless tyranny of the red-headed woman felt like an eternity. As your brothers dispersed into the crowd, you remained with Eris. Due to Lucien’s escape from your father’s suffocating grasp, Eris became your closest ally.

“What’s your strategy for tonight?” Eris queried, both of you observing the crowd.

Nonchalantly adjusting your gown’s sleeves, you responded, “Check on mother, evade father and our brothers, and hope Amarantha doesn’t summon me.”

“Stay inconspicuous, Y/n,” Eris cautioned, his gaze piercing. “I’m serious.”

You scoffed, “Easier said than done.”

“Father’s aware of your recent…activities.”

You bit your lip, of course he did. He always learned what bidding Amarantha made you do—not like you could avoid it. Either suffer at the hands of that cruel woman or suffer from the hands of your father. You had experienced both, and your father’s sadist ways were getting off easy nowadays.

“You think our court’s morals matter down here, Eris?” You retorted curtly.

“You can still have modesty,” he bit back. “When we get out of here, nobody will ever want you after hearing how many nobles and lords you’ve bedded.”

Your eyes flashed with anger, “you know I have no say in the matter. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Pushing past him, you needed distance from the constant reminders of your grim reality.

Scanning the room, you took a wine-filled goblet from a passing servant. Settling at a secluded table, and sighing. You hadn’t known why Amarantha had made you one of her harlots. It took you years to comply with the bidding before finally letting go of your morality.

“I knew I could smell filth, Lady Fox.” A voice purred from behind you. You tensed as the Night Court High Lord, Rhysand, took a seat next to you. The despair you had felt turned into an ice with close proximity to the dark haired violet eyed male.

“Are you sure those aren’t Amarantha’s sheets you just rolled in that you’re smelling?” You replied smoothly.

He narrowed his eyes at you, “did Tarquin not satisfy you enough? Or did you not collect enough secrets for her liking last night and got punished?”

Rhysand could be insufferable. He had always held a disdain toward you, one that started as unwarranted until it was. You had once been a close friend to his cousin, Morrigan. Both of you were able to bond over the fact both your families hated females and only saw them as property and assets. Then your brothers had left her for dead in the woods of your court when they found she had been sullied. A note from her parents nailed to her womb.

You had mourned quietly for days for her, until Eris had broken through the wards you put up so no one could bother you. Everyone associated you to be just as cruel and nasty like your father and brothers—never taking into consideration you were your own person. Had considered the actions your family have done wounded you, and you always paid a price for them. No friends that weren’t actually friends, only scared of the consequences if they didn’t hang around you. No one you could trust without fear they’d report everything you have said to your family. That alone filled you with enough spite and resentment to become the vision everyone already had perceived you as.

“He was quite satisfactory,” you hummed, taking a sip from your glass. It was average at best, you wouldn’t let the deceitful high lord know.

Since you had been locked under this Mother forsaken place, he had been damn near the bane of your existence. Always going the extra mile to make this living nightmare a living hell for you. Poking and prodding you, knowing you couldn’t do much in retaliation.

He gave you a disgusted look and caught a servant on their way out of the room with a tray of drinks. He leaned over and plucked one off the platter like you had done prior. You couldn’t help but notice as he leaned over where his tattoos peaked from under his shirt, lashings danced over his taut back underneath the dark fabric. Your scowl had turned to frown.

“Did you not satisfy her majesty last night?” There was no venom to your words. You hadn’t known the prized possession of Amarantha had still been punished like her little spies and sex workers. You thought he got off easy since she still allowed him some of his magic, offered him one of the best suites in this prison, and more authority than anyone else down here.

He cooly leaned back, adjusting his shirt as if he knew what you saw. Then taking the drink down his throat in one gulp. He used his sleeve to wipe the drop that dropped from the corner of his mouth. His violet eyes meeting yours, a dangerous warning in those orbs.

“I wouldn’t go snooping around, Lady Fox.” Was all he said, getting up from the table and melded into the crowd of courtiers.

⭒❃.✮

The thin fabric worsened the sting of your back as it moved against the wounds that had been inflicted on you hours prior. You quietly snuck out of your family’s suite feeling suffocated being in the same vicinity as them. After the underwhelming festivities of the night your father had cornered you with your elder brothers in the suite, no Eris or your mother in sight. The poker from the fireplace in his hand, and your brothers ripping your dress down the back, constraining you.

The shame you brought upon this family was all that you could hear echoing off the halls, though they were eerily silent. Filthy whore scratching down your mind as the friction of fabric on your back reminded you of the burning iron that branded your skin. You had walked mindlessly through the halls, trying to escape your thoughts. To grasp whatever sanity was left in your mind. You no longer cried when punished, only letting the fire that was dampered for now simmer inside you. You learned crying only fed the cruelty of your father and brothers.

You sat at the top of the main staircase that led to all the suites under the mountain. You clenched your teeth, hissing, as you shrugged down the straps of your nightgown so the cold air could hit the hot wounds. Bending over, hugging your knees and rocking, getting accustomed to the chill.

“It’s not wise to be out of your suite at night, Lady Fox.” That familiar chastising voice filled the silent halls. You looked up to see Rhysand walking up the stairs towards you. You straightened up, wincing, tugging the straps up to your nightgown.

“Couldn’t I say the same?” You mustered a sneer. He was still in his clothes from earlier, slightly crumpled and wrinkled now. You could smell Amarantha on him, making your nose crinkle.

“Pain doesn’t suit you.” He said simply. “Take a walk with me.” He reached out. You hesitantly looked at his outstretched hand he offered. “I won’t bite or scold you.”

You let him take your smaller dainty hand into his rough calloused one. Fighting the seethe and sharp intake of breath as he helped you up, your muscles sore from exhaustion.

You two didn’t talk as he led you through the halls of suites. His hand still holding yours, you wondered if he had realized it. You were too numb to care or admit that warmth brought slight comfort.

“You’re not bringing me to her, are you?” You whispered. You two walked in a wing you weren’t familiar with, and your blood ran slightly cold with every step you took with the High Lord.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough fun tonight, Lady Fox?” The sarcasm dripped from his tongue. “I’m not as cruel as you Vanserra’s.” You gave him a side eye, him only offering a tight lipped smile.

He led you to a door, opening it and letting you in first. He closed the door, locking it behind him. With a snap of his fingers the fireplace roared to life, causing you to flinch. It was a bedroom. His bedroom.

“I didn’t realize you actually occupied your bedroom, I thought you rumpled about hers every night.” You said icily, taking all the details of the room in.

A large bed in the middle neatly made with dark silk sheets, a fur lined duvet, and a knitted throw blanket at the end. A dark mantled fireplace with a couple chairs in front. A wardrobe and dresser against the wall, and a door that you assumed led to a bathroom.

“She would be so fortunate to have me grace her bedroom every night.” A feline smile on his lips, his teeth brightly gleaming in the firelight. “Take a seat.” He made a gesture with his head to his bed. He walked through the door in the corner, hearing him rummage through some cabinets as you sat on the edge of the plush mattress.

Your bed wasn’t even this comfortable, you thought as you rolled your shoulders in discomfort. He came back out moments later with medical supplies and in some night clothes. He set them on the stand next to the bed, and sat next to you.

He went to reach for the straps of your nightgown, but pulled away slightly. “Do you mind?” He asked. You shook your head as you faced away from him. He took the straps and slid them down your arms. His touch was surprisingly gentle, being careful as the fabric slightly stuck to your wounds pulling your gown down. He cursed under his breath as he saw what your father had done. You're sure he had seen the healed wounds that littered your back as well, you had more than you could count by now from even before under the mountain.

Another silence had fallen upon the two of you, with only quiet hisses as he cleaned your back. Your eyes blankly staring at the poker by the fireplace.

The centuries of existence you would have never thought that Rhysand would be tending to your wounds—maybe causing them, but never gingerly applying tonic and bandages to your spine. Your shoulders tensed as he brushed some hair away, his fingers sending goosebumps down your arms.

“What would you do if we were finally freed?” He asked thoughtfully.

Your breath stilled at the question. “I-I don’t know.” You stammered.

“Would you leave the Autumn Court?” He dabbed at your back. You had thought numerous times about leaving. Like your brother had.

You cleared your throat, “I couldn’t leave my mother with them by herself.” Your father treated her atrociously, and she had been the only one to show you true love. You had often opted to take the brunt of your father’s brute behavior to save her from it, if you could help it. He only hummed in response at your answer.

“What would you do?”

“I would visit my mother’s old home in Illyria.” He didn’t hesitate with his answer. You bit your lip, you had heard from Lucien what happened about what happened to Rhysand’s mother and sister. You had thought your family had been cruel, but Tamlin’s were gods awful. Tamlin still proved to be awful, he was the reason you all had been under the mountain. You were able to at least sympathize with him on that.

“The Spring Court revels in anguish.” Was all you could say.

He chuckled darkly, “always. Reckoning will come for them soon.” All of you. It had been forty eight years of this curse, it was quickly creeping up to fifty. Soon everyone would feel that reckoning. He finished bandaging your back, smoothing them all over.

He got up to put the supplies away, leaving you awkwardly feeling exposed, sitting there with your nightgown only covering your lower half. You started to pull it up, but he came out with a dark cotton shirt. He handed it to you. His eyes stayed locked on yours as you took the shirt.

“You can sleep here, I’ll wake you before the servants and guards start roaming.” He told you as you slipped the shirt over your head, standing up to discard your blood stained nightgown from yourself. The shirt had stopped mid thigh, the cool air hitting your legs.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you set the soiled gown on the chair by the fireplace. “You didn’t have to help me.”

“She’s expecting you to do some bidding later. Can’t have you restless and burned. The scars should be gone by then.” He said void of emotion, but you saw a flash of something unreadable in those eyes as he spoke. He untucked the sheets and blankets for you.

There had been a reason for his motives in helping you, of course. Not just out of pure kindness. You felt stupid for not thinking of that in the first place.

“I’ll sleep in the chair.” He grabbed the throw.

You got in the bed, pulling the covers up, the feeling of the silk soft on your bare skin. “This is your bed, it’s big enough for us both.”

“Inviting me to bed already?” He smirked at you. Your cheeks heated in embarrassment, and he merely smiled walking to the other side. “No funny business.” He mocked sternly, slipping under the covers.

You rolled your eyes, before turning on your side away from him. “Goodnight.”

“G’night Lady Fox.” He snapped his fingers, the fire smoldering to just coals. Letting the sound of smoldering ember lull you to a restless sleep.

⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃

I hope you enjoyed the first part! Feel free to like, reblog, reply with feedback!! My requests are open to request any idea for fics, blurbs, or headcanons!!

[shadowqueenjude]

Because I'm patiently waiting for Beron to die...I'm writing his death scene. Again.

"You go on!" Lucien shouts. "Protect our mother! I'll keep these sentries occupied." Eris didn't wait for Lucien to confirm as he jumped over obstacle over obstacle, running for his mother. Beron grabbed Eris's mother and shoved her face-first into a wall. Yet another day of his mother suffering at the hands of his tyrannical father. Yet, Eris had the feeling it would end today. The conviction came from the seer's prophecy and having his brother back in the Autumn Court for the first time in centuries. As Beron raised his hand to push the delicate Lady of Autumn again, Eris placed a hard shield between him and his mother. "Don't touch her," Eris said quietly.

"You would raise a hand on your High Lord?" Beron asked with equal quiet. Then he smiled. On his face, the expression was sinister. "I always knew you weren't as loyal as you pretended to be. I beat the fight out of your brothers, but somehow my eldest and youngest escaped intact." Beron raised his sword. "I didn't know you would muster up the guts to ever challenge me, however." Eris smiled back. Pulled out his own weapon. "Well, here we are, father. About to fight to the death. You must be so proud of me." Beron didn't rise to the bait. He never did. Cold, cruel, cunning. It was how he was the longest reigning High Lord in Prythian's history. He only replied with, "Of course, my son." He said the word son mockingly. He never called him his son. Nor did Eris ever call him father. And they began to duel. Vanserra boys were trained from birth. The Illyrians prided themselves on their warriors, but the Vanserras were almost just as good. They had to be if they wanted to survive. Vanserras also learned diplomacy from an early age. All so that they may find the only High Lord amongst them. Yet their mother had birthed two High Lords. One was himself, of course; the reason for his brothers' deference and fear. And the other one was Lucien. The one brother that had had zero expectations, had not been thrown out to rule some province and had therefore received a better education and training than any of them ever did. And with the High Lord powers in his veins... it was no wonder that the brothers tried to kill him so enthusiastically before he got old enough to be a threat. But even then, Eris never knew if he could defeat Beron. Eris may be good, but Beron was much older and more experienced. He must have had something keeping him in power if he had ruled for so long. Indeed, Eris found himself struggling to keep up with his father's blows. Beron smirked at his eldest son and crooned, "You will never be powerful enough to defeat me. Not on your own." "No," Eris agreed. "I wouldn't presume to take your kill, though. I'm not the one who you've wronged the most." "Who is it, then? My failure of a son, Lucien?" Beron sneered in Eris's face, and rage flooded through Eris's chest at the insult to his brother. But he continued to parry and took the offensive, smiling. "Not even him, though you have wronged him greatly." Beron snarled and winnowed to Eris's back, and Eris threw a shield over himself just in time. It mattered little, as Beron fully had the upper hand now. But Eris did not need to win. Just keep him occupied a little longer. "Haven't you already guessed, Beron? The one you've wronged the most is my mother. Beron whipped his head around just in time to see the Lady of Autumn drive her knife into his neck. She swung deep, severing nearly every muscle and tendon there. Her eyes were alight, more fiery than Eris had seen them in decades. Beron's face was frozen in shock as he fell to the ground. Eris felt the ground's tremor, felt the behemoth of power that surged into his veins. "Son, are you ok?" his mother asked. Eris smiled. "Yes, mother. Since I'm now High Lord, no one will ever hurt you again." Just then, Lucien rushed into the room. "Mother!" He cried, looking at the state of her face. "You're bleeding!"

"I'm fine, my dear boy," the Lady of Autumn said affectionately. "Most of the blood isn't mine, anyway." An expression of grim triumph as she stared at her dead husband. Lucien ignored her, hovering his hand over her face. Where he touched her, wounds began to knit together. "There, that's better, Ma." "What about you?" Eris retorted. Indeed, Lucien was bloodied all over from fighting about a dozen sentries at once. But Lucien only smiled and slowly wiped several drops of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. Tossed his sword in the air and caught it. Twirled his hair around a finger as he looked down on Eris. "None of this blood is mine, brother. Do not worry about me." Flame sizzled in his dark brown eyes as he continued to wear a purely feral smile. "Worry about how you're going to identify the bodies."

[cauldronblssd]

Ch 20 - Found in the Sunlight

Elain assesses the attractiveness of the other Vanserras. (And thinks about murdering Beron)

Read on AO3

Tag List: @climbthemountain2020 @clockwork-ashes

Excerpt:

Being here troubled Lucien. Elain could feel the worry and confusion radiating down the bond. Those feelings had been growing in insistence the last few days since they’d begun their plans to travel to the Autumn Court. But now, they pushed towards her with startling vehemence.   

Mate. Mate. Protect him.   

The bond raged in her chest as they descended further into this cold palace. She recognized this feeling. It was the same seething anger that she’d felt in her vision. The strings of fate had pulled her here, towards the male that still haunted Lucien’s dreams. Some divine force had set her life into motion, leading her towards Lucien, accepting the bond so they might reach this place. It unsettled her, calling her to question again which feelings were her own and which were a product of the interference of the cauldron or the mother or whomever decided these things. Still, this part she felt sure about. She’d seen these halls in her visions, already knew what the male would look like before she’d ever set eyes on him. He’d tormented Lucien, his mother, and his brother for too long. Even Mor, had suffered as a result of this male. Her sister, too, had all but been hunted through the Winter Court as a result.   

Every feeling of worry and fear and guilt that Lucien sent down the bond only grew her own feelings of righteous anger. She was an Archeron, after all. The cutting cold of the dagger pinned to her thigh radiated against her skin, as if it too, sensed its fate. Ahead of her, Bingham walked at a steady but cautious pace. Perhaps he felt uncertain of his role in delivering the outcast Vanserra brother to the High Lord. She liked him, she decided, though she had little to base it on but her own intuition. Surely, the staff would be relieved to answer to Lucien instead of the terrible Beron. She imagined they served him in fear rather than any true loyalty. Though there are vicious people in every walk of life, as she’d learned all too well in her years as a human.   

At last, they entered the large room that served as the private receiving room for the Vanserra family. Immediately, her eyes found what could only be Lucien’s mother. Her long red hair gleamed under the flickering flames and her gentle eyes gleamed wet with tears as she glanced towards her son. Next to her, offering a much colder response, stood the harsh face of the High Lord. He might have been attractive, had his hatred not seeped into his every expression. He had something of Eris in him, with his high cheekbones and an elegant way to his movements. But where Eris was all regal airs and cunning glances, true hatred emanated from Beron. It was not a farce, or a mask, as Rhys often donned in the Court of Nightmares. Her own magic answered as if the cauldron itself recognized the abomination to the powers it granted to the High Lord.  

Standing next to him, his face set in a sneer of disdain, stood Eris. Her heart ached for him, knowing the way he had smiled at her with brotherly affection the last time she’d seen him at her wedding. Next to him, standing in a straight line that had to be practiced, stood three redheaded males that must be the other Vanserra brothers - handsome, though none of them could compare to Lucien. He radiated with power and beauty next to her. All eyes turned to him, surely assessing the reason for his return. But she imagined people always be drawn to him in a place such as this. The sun in this cavernous palace, one couldn’t help but turn one’s face towards him, soaking up his warmth like the best summer day.   

Elain gripped Lucien’s hand tightly. His palm was sweating though he kept his hold relaxed and his face impassive. She released his hand, and just as instructed, offered a deep curtsy with a bow of her head, while Lucien bowed at the waist. She wanted to spit at Beron’s feet, but forced herself into the docile subservient female she knew he’d expect.   

When she raised her gaze, Beron was starting at Lucien with a calculating smile. “Son, how kind of you to return at last.” He did not glance in her direction, ignoring her entirely. She wished she were brave like Feyre, with some clever way to take Beron down a notch. Instead, she stood politely with her hands crossed together in front of her, as if she were at a human ball and not standing in front of the sort of cruel and powerful fae she’d been raised to fear. She practiced her Valkyrie breathing exercises, her familiar refrain, I belong to no one , running through her mind.   

“Thank you for having us. Your invitation is most appreciated.” Lucien kept his voice neutral, in his best play at emissary.   

“And who do you serve these days, Rhysand, or Tamlin? The last I heard you had no place in Prythian at all. You were slumming it with some humans, were you not?” Elain struggled not to suck in a breath. She hadn’t expected Beron to know about Jurian and Vassa, and she suspected Lucien had not either.   

“I am emissary to the Night Court and visit Spring and the Human Lands as it benefits the court.”   

“Yes, well, I can see how you would prefer traipsing about with human scum rather than reside in your own court by blood. Though it does pain your mother so.” 

“It’s a pleasure to be back with family, and see mother, of course. I’m sorry if my absence causes her worry.” He offered a slight bow of his head to Beron and then towards his mother, keeping his face neutral. Elain supposed that his time away caused his mother rather a lot of worry, but she, too, revealed nothing, offering only a slight smile in response. Elain could imagine that were Beron not there, there might have been a tearful reunion, with hugs and laughter and relief. Instead, it seemed she was not granted permission to speak at all, nor were his brothers.   

Beron only flicked his hand in the air with a long-suffering sigh, a dismissal. “Bray, see they find their rooms, please.” He turned away, sitting stiffly on his throne as he summoned one of his guards forward for some sort of instruction. Elain blinked, taking it in before one of the middle brothers, with the signature auburn hair trimmed to his shoulders, ushered them forward with an outstretched hand.

[tamlinweek]

Tamlin Creator Appreciation: Fanfiction Authors

Thank you all for your submissions for your favorite Tamlin creators! In the lead up to Tamlin Week (June 18 - 24, click here for prompts and rules!), we wanted to take a minute to highlight some of the amazing authors who have written Tamlin stories in the past. Here are some of the submissions we received, listed by ship, with some honorable mentions:

Tamlin/Briar:

a quiet, distant treasure (when you rise) by @yourethehero​

Rating: Mature, Words: 12k (multichapter, ongoing)

Summary: The truth is - Tamlin knows he failed. He knows he  could beg, and plead until the sun burned its last flame, and it would  get him nowhere. There was only the future, the one he could build for his Court, and for this child.

“I love their fic! It's such a unique take on Tamlin's redemption arc and the interactions between Tamlin and his adoptive daughter are very heartwarming”

Tamlin/Briar Honorable Mentions:

A Dream of Roses by @isterofimias

A Court of Love and Healing by @readingwritingwatching​

Tamlin/Feyre:

I Will See You Again by @goforth-ladymidnight​

Rating: Teen, Words: 2k (oneshot, complete)

Summary: ACOTAR AU - Mere days before the seven times seven years are up, Tamlin decides to send Feyre back to the mortal lands. A glimpse at what might have happened if Feyre had opened her heart and said those three little words that held more magic than she thought possible.

“This creator is AMAZING, BRILLIANT and a great addition to the pro Tamlin community!”

Tamlin/Lucien:

lovely and lonely by @praetorqueenreyna​

Rating: Mature, Words: 24k (multichapter, ongoing)

Summary: "In hindsight, Lucien thinks he fell in love with Tamlin the moment he first laid eyes on him." *** Lucien Vanserra must come to terms with his sexuality, and his complicated feelings for High Lord Tamlin.

“My favorite takes of the characters and Tamlin specifically by far.”

Tamlin/Nesta:

My Sun Shines Upon Me by @toast-com​

Rating: N/A, Words: <200 (oneshot, complete), Summary: N/A

“Her creativity and descriptive writing.  Tamlin creators, I am high-fiving all of you.”

Tamlin/OC:

Hyacinth by @suckerpunchfemale​

Rating: Mature, Words: 90k (multichapter, complete)

Summary: Hyacinth, known as Cin, has seen the once thriving and prosperous Spring Court fall into ruin and lawlessness due to the absence of their High Lord, Tamlin. But after two years  of waiting and hoping, Cin has had enough. Can these two trauma survivors,  Cin and Tamlin, save each other and their home?

“I don't usually reach for fanfics with OCs, but you can't help but root  for Hyacinth (aka Cin) as she tries to fix the very broken Spring Court  in the wake of the war on Hybern. What I like about SPF’s portrayal of  Tamlin is how she doesn't shy away from showing his suffering, but she  doesn't let him wallow in his misery, either. He made mistakes, but he's  not the villain here. It's a good and proper redemption arc! :D”

Tamlin/Rhysand:

A Court of Lies and Resurrection by @ashintheairlikesnow

Rating: Explicit, Words: 193k (multichapter, complete)

Summary:  AU: Feyre is dead, torn apart by Amarantha when Tamlin did not send her away in time. Tamlin, forced to submit to Amarantha's terms, finds  himself looking for help (and finding affection) in places he never expected.

“IT IS THE TAMSAND MULTI CHAPTER FIC!!!!! Their fic actually opened my eyes to Rhys potential post Amarantha which I didn’t realize was POSSIBLE”

Thank you so much to everyone who participated! Look forward to more pro Tamlin content by our wonderful contributors in June!

[moononastring]

I was doing research on another character named Eris from a different series but did you know that Eris means 'strife'? Unfortunately fitting right?

Unfortunately so, my poor boy 🥲

It’s okay, I’m writing him a happy ending even if he has to suffer a little. SJM better do it too or we will have words 🤣

[aphroditelovesu]

yandere eris from acotar maybe?

''You know very well my reasons for doing this.'' — Eris Vanserra.

❝ 🍂 — lady l: yes, yes and yes! Ah, finally someone asked him! As soon as I saw this request I couldn't control myself and wrote 👀. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! 🧡

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, mention of murder, manipulation, unhealthy relationships.

❝🍂pairing: yandere!eris vanserra x gender neutral!reader.

Eris Vanserra projects a strong air of arrogance, of superiority, as expected from the heir of a Court. He appears to be someone who is violent and has ulterior motives and that is true, at least for the most part. But there is something about Eris that few know.

He is very intelligent and observant, his gaze is always sharp and a mischievous smile on his lips. You will never know what he is thinking or planning unless he wants you to.

Eris is very manipulative, he always knows how to say the right words to convince anyone to do whatever he wants. Including his darling, although he prefers not to manipulate you, he is not above doing so if he deems it necessary.

Not much is known about him, not even you know. The few times he let his feelings and thoughts show are when he allows himself to be vulnerable by your side. These moments are rare, but when they occur you realize how much he cares about you.

He has done many bad things in his life and there are few that he regrets, and yet he will always be insensitive about it. Eris doesn't care about many things besides himself and what he truly values. Yet he cares about you, more than he has ever cared about anyone. You became his most forbidden desire, his obsession.

Eris seems like an intriguing enigma, someone you could call two-faced. He shows his different sides to each person, but you are the one who knows his true side, his true personality. Eris is skilled at hiding his true feelings and intentions, but the connection you have allows him to be more vulnerable.

He feels connected to you in a way he's never felt with anyone before, maybe you're mates or just really close, but Eris knows he loves you and that's scary. The world is dangerous, people are dangerous and they may try to use you against them. He can't let that happen.

If someone dared to hurt you, Eris will be ruthless and merciless. You had never seen him so furious, so eager to kill, gut and burn. He seemed like a different person, so crazy and overcome with the murderous rage that consumed him. Only when he was left with ash and the smell of burning flesh did he take a deep breath and head towards it. His gaze softening and almost pleading with you. Your heart broke right there.

For him, you are something more than a simple fixation, than an obsession. You mean a beginning, a life away from the traumas inflicted on him. He reserves a softer and more affectionate side to you. This suggests a deep connection between you, something that goes beyond the manipulations or the more austere exterior he projects to the world.

Eris is quite possessive, but he is not consumed by these feelings. He deals with them in another way, usually by making it very clear to everyone who you belong to. An arm around your shoulders, a sharp gaze, and a stern expression usually do the trick. But if it doesn't work, he doesn't mind dealing permanently with that person.

He's no stranger to killing someone to get what he wants and that's no different when it comes to you. He wants you and he will have you, simple as that. Anyone who gets in his way will suffer the consequences.

Eris tries to be by your side as much as possible, he's not clingy but he likes to have some kind of physical contact with you. Like holding hands for example. He would spoil you with everything that money can buy and power can offer. This male will be willing to spend a fortune just to pamper you, to do all your wishes.

His dogs love you too and know that they must protect you at any cost, considering how important you are to Eris. He delights in watching you play with his dogs.

Having Eris Vanserra behind you is something complicated. His sharp intelligence and manipulative skills can be both captivating and dangerous, and if you try to escape, he won't let you. You are the only good thing, the only good person he has in his life and he will not lose that. He won't lose you.

[theladyofbloodshed]

STEEL & FLAME - CHAPTER 16 (18+)

(So sorry for the long delay!!)

In the weeks that followed, Nesta was insatiable – much to Lucien’s delight. No longer shy about her body, Nesta would display herself on the bed for him. First, he’d devour her with his eyes then his hands would roam across her bare body, stroking every curve until his mouth pressed kisses on all the parts that made her squirm with pleasure. She was always the first to crack and tug his body down to hers. Nesta had torn buttons from his shirts and pants in her eagerness to have him. Lucien could be naked for the rest of his life and he wouldn’t care, not when Nesta was his lady.

Spring had thawed the snow so they were greeted with bright mornings and crisp winds. It risked them more; mortals were likely to venture closer to their manor near the outskirts of the forest whilst out hunting. Lucien was glad to whisk Nesta away each day to the Dawn Court. It dipped his magic slightly to make the journey twice a day, but for Nesta, it was worth it.

Hedia was always glad to see Nesta arrive, and Nesta passed through the door of the book store with more confidence and surety each day. However, before parting for the day, her hand would grip at Lucien’s collar. Nesta would yank him forwards and a slow grin would spread across her face. Her eyes never flicked to his scar - not in the way that most did with a wary curiosity and revulsion. Nesta simply didn’t seem to notice that he was disfigured or it didn’t matter to her. She never shied away from looking into both of his eyes; most preferred not to look at the golden one. Nesta had seen all of him and loved him.

‘There once was a store full of dust, so cleaning became a must, I’ll toil all day, for very little pay, and you’ll collect me as discussed.’

‘What a wonderful gift for rhyme,’ he teased.

‘Some of the time.’ Nesta kissed him slowly, stroking a thumb against his scar. ‘I hope today goes well.’

Lucien held Nesta to his body, not caring if anybody passing by down the narrow street glanced their way. A mate was something rare, something fae could only dream for. And he had the greatest mate of all.

‘Can anything involving Eris go well?’

She shrugged a shoulder then smoothed his hair back from his face. ‘I suppose not. Don’t let his words wound.’

‘His words never scar. Have a good day, my love.’

Lucien waited until his mate had entered the safety of the book store. The Dawn Court wasn’t dangerous, but Nesta Archeron was still a prize to many, and he wanted to ensure she was within the four walls of Hedia’s store.

A meeting in the Hewn City beckoned. It was scheduled rather than spontaneous, but Lucien knew his eldest brother would be in attendance. He still advised the Night Court on keeping Eris at arm’s length. Trying to keep hold of Eris was like gripping water. He was capable of wriggling out of anything. Eris never did anything unless it was in his best interests. He always had various schemes on the go, some of which were years in the making. His moves could never be anticipated. Beyond that, Eris could fight as well as any, his magic wasn’t weak, and with that silver tongue of his, he was dangerous in many ways. Despite that, Rhys had a reason to trust Eris. That was a mistake; nobody should trust Eris Vanserra.

Lucien winnowed to the gates of the moonstone palace. A perpetual gloom shrouded the Hewn City. He supposed it had earned its moniker of the Court of Nightmares throughout history. Whilst Velaris had been a surprise, Lucien couldn’t help but feel guilt for those who suffered in this city and Illyria. He refused to believe that two thirds of a court were bad. Just as in the Autumn Court, not all of them were wicked and corrupt like Beron.

A sentry met him to escort him to a meeting room. Out of habit, he thanked the male. Autumn Court males were nothing if not well-mannered.

‘Am I late?’ He asked. Only Azriel and Cassian represented the Night Court for the moment. Eris was already there, sat upright in a chair. If he was wary of the two Illyrians, he showed no signs of it. His cool mask of indifference was ever present.

‘You’re early, little brother.’

‘No Rhys or Feyre?’

‘Just the four of us,’ replied Cassian, eyes simmering with hatred as he watched Eris fold back the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt. ‘Cosy.’

***

Life was good. It made Nesta suspicious. There had never been a time in her life where she hadn’t trodden on eggshells or waited for the next misery. Horror had stalked her like a great, black cloud for years. This happiness felt too good to be true. It was a fragile thing that she cared for as if it was a new born.

Lucien’s company was everything. He battled her with his wit. His dry sense of humour still took her by surprise. And Nesta could not deny that every physical moment made her heart flutter. He was a generous lover who met her stride for stride. Everything was at her pace – which at the moment was a gallop.

When Jurian or Vassa left the room briefly, Lucien would whisper in her ear all the things he would do to her that night. She would try to sit impassively, not letting her racing hear give her away. Nesta was lucky that they were mortal and didn’t sense the changes in her body.

Working in the Dawn Court had given her purpose too. It was all owed to Lucien and his connections. He’d held up his hands and said that it was her appeal that had meant Hedia allowed her to continue working rather than his influence. Still, Nesta was grateful for it. She spent each day busy, dusting or tidying. Sometimes she would serve customers. Although Nesta didn’t have the sweet disposition of Elain, customers didn’t seem to mind her reservation. Some did like to chat with some enquiring over who she was. Nesta always answered truthfully, but only ever a drop of it.

‘I’m a book seller,’ she would say, or, ‘a lover of stories.’

Many patrons to the store were a blend of the Dawn Court and the Continent; a country named Xian. That discovery ignited a desire to learn in Nesta. Whenever there was a lull in the day – or if she was tired of re-organising the mess of the store room – she’d read and read all about the Dawn Court’s history. It was fascinating to learn how the court had been shaped and how it had allowed refugees into the land following the first war.

‘Maybe I can be a historian,’ she told Lucien one evening as they dined outdoors in a café near the book shop.

‘You can be whatever you set your mind to,’ he’d replied, clinking his glass to hers.

She hadn’t known how much she had needed somebody to see her, to believe in her, until she had allowed Lucien into her life. His steady confidence was a support that gave her the courage to try new things, to blossom into the person she wanted to be.

That evening, he was later than usual to collect her. Nesta had helped Hedia to lock up the store and pull down the shutters then waited under the golden light for him to arrive.

The Dawn Court suited him. It was so often bathed in gold that matched his eye and made his skin glow. He arrived with a bouquet of flowers and an apology that he was late.

Nesta pulled him towards her, fingers gripped his dark green jacket. She kissed him softly on the lips.

‘You seem down.’

‘Is that a nice way of telling me I look terrible?’

She pulled a face then kissed him again. ‘It’s a nice way of asking what horrid things your brother has said today.’

They walked along the narrow streets, rose light catching on the red roofed buildings. It did not take long to leave the city behind and arrive into the lush countryside. It was a court of tinkerers and thinkers, but also a court of beauty. Nesta inhaled the dewy scent that lingered on the air and tucked Lucien against her body, savouring the moment.

In the distance, the sapphire sea was visible, and behind them was the mountain-top palace of Thesan, high lord. It was a lovely court; one she would be happy to settle in if Lucien decided to switch allegiances.

‘The usual,’ he said with a wave of his hand. ‘Whether you’re bored of me yet, whether you’ve ran from my scar, if I have ravaged you. You know how he is.’

‘He sounds rather obsessed with me.’

‘Eris has a knack for finding people’s weaknesses and exploiting them. Wisely, he didn’t mention Mor as it was only us and the two Illyrians.’

‘Ah, Rhysand’s lapdogs,’ she said, leaning against a fence. Lucien rested beside her, his arm coming around her shoulders. His face betrayed him; the disappointment of his brother’s words lingered. Nesta would do anything to take that hurt from him. She kissed his cheek, ensuring her lips met his scar. ‘For next time, please inform Eris that I will never be bored of you, your scar is inconsequential to me, and you have well and truly ravaged me in every free moment.’

‘Well and truly? Do you need a rest tonight then?’

‘I’m waiting for you to winnow us home so I can tear your clothes off.’

Before Nesta could even finish her sentence, Lucien was winnowing them back to the stoop of the manor house. The corners of her mouth twitched at his eagerness. She plucked at the buttons of his shirt as Lucien dragged them through the front door.

‘Ugh. Do you mind not doing that in public?’ Jurian made a retching noise in the hallway.  

‘Don’t bother us,’ Lucien said brusquely, cantering up the stairs with his fingers clamped around Nesta’s wrist.

He wasted no time in shoving her against the wall of their bedroom and pressing his mouth to hers. A keening noise came from her as his body ground against her own. Lucien pinned both of her arms above her head and bit down on her lower lip before pushing his tongue in. If she was insatiable, Lucien was her mirror.

As each item of their clothing hit the floor in a dull thud, a rush of excitement flooded Nesta. They broke apart from kissing long enough for Lucien to lay her down on the bed and to kneel between her legs. A warm tongue parted her open, but then his tongue pulled away. He traced tracks on the soft skin. Her thighs twitched as his tongue circled the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex, but Nesta was soon grinding down in response to Lucien’s teasing. Lucien was determined to avoid the areas Nesta wanted him most, until her hips rose and her hand held his face where she wanted it.

His laugh was muffled, but, at long last, his tongue entered her. A firm hand pressed down on her abdomen, holding her in place. Still, Nesta writhed beneath his grip, desperate for more friction

‘What do you want, Nesta?’

Lucien drove his tongue in languorous circles. There was no hurry to give her what she wanted. No, Lucien liked to make Nesta beg for what she wanted, to claim ownership in the bedroom.

‘You,’ she breathed.

‘Me what?’ He murmured, trailing a finger up the length of her sex so lightly that she thought she might explode.

His lips kissed in a rhythm, featherlight and not enough.

‘I want you to make me come,’ she said desperately.

Lucien’s tongue swirled at her entrance, never quite giving enough pressure. She inhaled noisily then emitted a low whine.

‘Lucien.’

‘You didn’t say please.’

Her hips rose as she pressed herself closer to him. ‘Please. Please.’

The flat of his tongue was unrelenting in its pursuit of pleasure. Nesta gave a gasp as two fingers slid through the slickness of her folds. Her walls clenched around them, already enjoying the tempo they set.  

When her legs began to tremble and her breathing became unsteady, Nesta had almost reached her peak. A low hum of approval from Lucien was her undoing.

Her body gave in with a bolt of pleasure that rocked her core. Lucien pressed her thighs down and continued his torturous games while Nesta lifted off the bed, moans too loud to not be heard throughout the house.

Her shoulders ached. In the silent room, her heart echoed in her ear drums. Lucien crawled up the bed and rested his head on her stomach. A hand weaved into her own. She needed a moment to stabilise herself. The world felt dizzy, tilted on its side. Lucien’s fingers trailed lightly on her skin, over her rib cage and in a circled around her peaked nipple. As goose flesh erupted on her skin, he clicked his fingers. Fire jumped to life in the hearth. A blanket was pulled up over her to keep her warm in the meantime.

‘I love you,’ he whispered. ‘You’re the best thing in my life.’

A lump formed in Nesta’s throat. She combed her fingers through his soft hair. ‘I’m glad I took a chance on you.’

They moved from the bed, Nesta keen to ensure her mate received his pleasure too, like he deserved.

Completely bare, Nesta perched on her knees in front of the fire and presented her mouth to him. His thumb traced the curve of her lips, then he took his cock in his hand and repeated the motion. Lucien applied pressure until he’d slid in an inch or two. The tip rested on the warm, flat of her tongue.

His left hand settled on the back of her head, moving it at the speed he wanted. It was languid and comfortable. Sliding in and out as saliva pooled in her mouth. Nesta managed to swallow. The tip of his cock pressed against the roof of her mouth so Lucien sucked in a noisy breath.

‘I like that,’ he murmured.

She enclosed her lips tighter around the shaft. Deeper and deeper, Lucien went, but he never increased the speed. He was only ever gentle and slow, massaging her scalp as he worked. Lucien took his time – and gave Nesta hers.

With a pop, he removed his cock. Without a word, Lucien stroked her arms then was laying Nesta down on the fur rug. Flames bathed their bodies in orange light. It suited Lucien. As he positioned the tip at her entrance, she was struck by how beautiful he was. Her mate. Hers.

He leaned forwards to kiss her. With the motion, he gently eased inside. The gasp that forced itself from her was caught on his lips. The corners of Lucien’s mouth stretched into a proud smile.

‘I’ll never get tired of hearing that.’

Their bodies pulsed together. She had pulled Lucien so he lay prone against her. Their lips rarely parted. If Nesta was to have Lucien, she wanted all of him. Her hands felt the firm muscles of his back as they moved then she delved lower, delighting at what she could feel.

Lucien finished inside of her, his climax coming with a shuddering groan. They lay together, panting and sweaty. Lucien raised his head to blow cool air over her body.

‘Shower?’

‘Shower,’ he agreed.

There was no shame about nudity. They showered together, Lucien lathering soap onto her shoulders and kissing the nape of her neck. Nesta tipped back his head and washed his long, auburn hair.

Using a towel, she dried off his body then he was brushing her hair and braiding it. They had found an easy rhythm together; both wanting to take care of the other. Nesta had never felt so loved or cared for.

***

Was there anything better than waking beside your beautiful mate? Lucien thanked his stars every night that they fell asleep together – and then again when they woke curled up together. In synchronisation with him, Nesta flicked open her eyes.

‘Is it your turn to make the tea?’

‘I’m sure it was my turn yesterday.’

Nesta rolled over, stretching her arms up. She pressed her backside into his hard length and rubbed against him. ‘No, it’s definitely your turn.’

This temptress. She knew exactly how to trap him. Reluctantly, Lucien crawled from the bed then returned with a tray of tea for his lady.

Eventually, they made their way downstairs where Jurian sat at the table yawning.

‘What you doing today, beside Nesta?’

Her cheeks flamed at the cross words.

‘Jurian,’ Lucien reprimanded. Still, that blush dusting Nesta’s cheeks was beautiful. ‘No plans today.’

‘You should spend time together,’ Nesta said, picking at her nails idly. ‘It’s been a while. Today is the day for it.’

Jurian raised his head. Briefly, Nesta raised her brows then his eyes brightened. ‘We’ll share custody of him. Be back when the night falls.’

They had enough to keep them busy. Between repairing parts of the crumbling exterior or meeting with Nolan and his son, Graysen, they rarely had a moment to themselves. The mortals were always twitchy around Lucien. He reminded them of how different he was. Their eyes never strayed long from his mauled face. On the rare time he had met with the mortals and Azriel, they had been on edge the entire time. Between a golden eye and large, black wings, the mortals were well and truly fearful.

Suspiciously, there were a large amount of ash trees suddenly felled from Lord Nolan’s iron fortress. Lucien didn’t have to wonder what their use might be. It was information that needed to be passed to all courts, not only Night. If the mortals were preparing for something, all the lords in Prythian deserved to know. Except perhaps his father who’d likely want to seize control of the land itself. Beron never rushed into anything though. He was a master of patience. As much as Lucien loathed the male, he’d imparted that same caution to him.

It was growing dark when they tramped up the street towards the manor house. A yellow light seeped through the crack in the curtains of the kitchen and smoke billowed from the chimney.

‘I need to bed down Sorrell for the night,’ Jurian called, stepping around the side of the house. His boots crunched over the hard soil.

 A waft of delicious chicken met Lucien in the corridor. It was too early for Vassa to be up yet, so he sought the kitchen where his mate stood. The odd wisp of her hair escaped from the front, but it had curled slightly to frame her face when she’d been cooking. She wore a dark green dress that clinched her waist and fell to the mid-point of her calf. It was a dress too pretty for dinner in a ruined manor.

‘What’s all this?’ Lucien crossed into the kitchen.

Only two plates had been set out along with a candelabra between them. Fresh from the oven was a pie, the flaky pastry made entirely by hand. Atop, cut out of pastry were two letters: L and N. Boiled potatoes drizzled with butter and chives were in another dish along with sautéed broccoli.

‘Chicken, ham, and leek pie,’ she said, voice trembling slightly. Nesta’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Her hands gripped the back of the chair. ‘I decided that we should make it official.’

The breath escaped his lungs. So that was what the strange look Nesta had exchanged with Jurian was all about at breakfast.

‘Well, this is awkward.’

Nesta’s face fell. Before she could retort, Lucien pulled a tiny box from his pocket and got down onto one knee.

‘It’s been in my pocket for days, waiting for the opportune moment,’ he explained, his voice now the one shaking. ‘Every time you’ve pawed at me, I’ve been scared you’d find it.’

Nesta stepped closer. A hand was clutched over her mouth. He reached out for her free hand and held it tightly.

‘Nesta Archeron, will you marry me?’

Her beautiful face broke into tears. ‘Yes. Yes!’

Lucien rose to embrace her. She fit perfectly against him and, in that moment, he truly believed in fate. The Mother had meant for them to be together. They had found each other against the odds. There could be no future worth having if it did not include Nesta.

‘I’ll only marry you, if you’ll be my mate,’ she whispered, thumb brushing against his brow.

‘As if you have to ask.’

[taylors-fourth-cat-meow]

Since i've had many anons in my inbox asking for more acowar commentary....

I present to you Chapter 5

(this is the chp where Feyrug violates a SA victim 🥰)

Let's gooooooo

I crawled back to the manor two hours after midnight, too exhausted to last until dawn.

Exhausted bitch what even did u do tho?? Well i guess eating that whole chuck of my brain last chp must be exhausting nvmnd

Especially when I noted the way Tamlin looked at me, remembering that dawn last year when he’d led me away and kissed me as the sun rose.

Oh yay!!! Oh I LOVE THAT SCENE FROM BOOK 1!!!!!THE SUMMER SOLSTICE!!! OH WAIT WHILE I GO HAVE MY FANGIRL CRISIS OVER IT 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I changed into my nightgown, a small, lacy thing I’d once worn for Tamlin’s enjoyment

Huh "Tamlin's enjoyment"

Oh yeah beach i see what u r doing. Tryna sell the whole Tamlin is a misogynistic bastard who made u wear lacy nightgowns for his enjoyment.

But weren't u the one who wanted to wear lacy things and show up to Tarquins place????? Because ofc u thought he was in love with u????? And wasnt precious rhysie the one that invaded you mind and showed u images of u and him doin it in the said lacy wear shop?? Yeah bitch cant prove tamlin is a dick with saying the same about rhysie not on my watch

The Attor. The Weaver. My sisters being thrown into the Cauldron. All of them twined and eddied around me.

Rhysie, babes your matey is having nightmares of the weaver. You know the old ancient cannibal you sent your 20 year old supposed love of your life to see if she cud get the ring your dead mother left to see if she was "worthy" of being your partner

*Cough* equal in every way my ass*cough*

Most of the others were still celebrating when I yelped, a sharp, short cry that had me bouncing from the bed.

Pls why am I imagining her doing this

“I heard you—what’s wrong.” He scanned me, russet eye wide as he noted my disheveled hair, my sweaty nightgown.

OKAY NO THIS IS SOOOO WRONG!!?!?

My poor fox baby is so caring and concerned for this birch and she is just there to manipulate him!!!

Ugghh let her suffer bae shes not worth it!!

Bare from the waist up, he’d managed to haul on a pair of pants before opening the door, and hastily buttoned them as I strode past.

Pls what'd i'd give to see Lucien fcking Vanserra shirtless 🥵🥵🥵

“I can’t remember when I am.”

Ummmm... Miss ma'am isnt that's wrong English?

I dragged my eyes to his, haunted and bleak. “She had me spiked to the wall. Like Clare Beddor. And the Attor was—”

Pls the AUDACITY and i mean THE AUDACITY this bitch has taking Claire Beddor's name and fcking lying while doing so

AS IF YOU AND YOUR PRECIOUS MATEY ARENT THE REASON SHE WAS SPIKED TO THE WALL IN THE FIRST PLACE!

Lucien paused half a foot from me. He didn’t so much as object as I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face against his warm, bare chest. It was seawater from Tarquin’s own gift that slipped from my eyes, down my face, and onto his golden skin.

Aaaahahah

Okay a lot to unpack here

A] Pls each step of the way Lulu is a SWEETHEART and each step of the way Feyrug has managed to make me want to take out her cranium and femur and fashion a makeshit shovel out of it to dig a hole in the Sahara and bury the rest of her there. Its impressive really.

B] Also here u go guys the privileged white protag again shamelessly using our anti-slavery and pro equality black mans powers after she brainwashed, manipulated and violated him... to... brainwash, manipulate and violate another poc. Gosh sjm really doesn't get tired of her racist bs does she

And lastly,

*Takes deep breath*

*Throws phone across the wall*

*Rips into pillowcase*

*Jumps on chair*

*Falls down from chair*

*Retrieves phone*

GOLDEN MOTHERFCKING SKIN!!!!!

Lucien whipped his head toward the door. Tamlin stood there, face a mask of cold calm. The beginnings of claws glinted at his knuckles.

Pls i feel so bad for Tamlin 😭😭😭😭

He deserves so much better than this. Lucien and Tamlin both do 😭😭 their friendship deserves better 😭😭😭😭

Tamlin was just staring at Lucien, whose mouth had tightened into a thin line as he marked those claws, still half-drawn.

NOOO I CAN ONLY IMAGINE THE BETRAYAL ON HIS FACE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

is it weird that i want to force tamlin to shapeshift into a cat and take him home and put him in a nice lil cat bed and give him milk and fish and protect him from everything?

Yes it is, sweetie, yes it is.

“Good night,” I said, and shut the door in Tamlin’s face.

Alright bitch i got the super glue and the chain saw and the scalpel out just need your cranium and femur now.

I wondered if Lucien had pieced it together. That I had known Tamlin would come to my room tonight, after I had given him so many shy touches and glances today. That I had changed into my most indecent nightgown not for the heat, but so that when my invisible snares in the house informed me that Tamlin had finally worked up the nerve to come to my bedroom, I’d look the part.

The way she is playing not only lucien but also Tamlin?

I mean what she is doing to Lucien, is worse as it is.

But she is also leading Tamlin on? Playing with his heart? Why wouldn't he slut shame this bitch at the high lords meeting?? She fcking deserved to be humiliatied like that. I said what i said.

Good lawd i am fcking livid.

A nightmare, I’d told Tamlin. I was the nightmare.

Preying on what Tamlin had feared from my very first days here.

.....

I had not forgotten that long-ago fight he’d picked with Lucien. The warning he’d given him to stop flirting with me. To stay away. The fear that I’d preferred the red-haired lord over him and that it would threaten every plan he had. Back off, he’d told Lucien.

I already made a whole ass post about this so i'm just gonna link it right...here.

I- i don't think i have the mental, emotional, physical capacity to deal with Sarah Janet's infamous retcons rn

Considering how this very morning, Lucien had knelt before me, swearing fealty to a newborn god, as if we had both been Cauldron- blessed.

NEW BORN WHAT NOW???

PLS SHE DID NOT JUST CALL HERSELF A GOD WHAT IN THE ACTUAL- 💀💀💀

There was more work to do.

The more work being coming in between two centuries long frnds who are each other's only family by manipulating a SA victim into implying having sexual relations with him without his knowledge and in the process also ridding him of his only family and support system he cud possibly get and at the same time manipulating and mind r*ping innocent people into thinking their high lord is a tyrant and making them revolt during war time ultimately leaving the population of an entire country vulnerable to invasion by a foreign army and hence causing a warcrime and a mass murder.

But...like.. atleast she is .... hard working....gotta appreciate a hardworking girl boss queen u guys....

[separatist-apologist]

AHHHH, I'm obsessed tho with Soren's mate just kinda giving off Arina vibes in terms of like "fuck me, it's a vanserra. Why, Mother?" and just, like, grumbling while admitting (eventually) that she kind of, sort of, likes Soren vanserra-spell cleaver. and elain's just in the distance smiling and shaking her head because she's seen it happen before. so has Lucien but with ivy. I love love love love that type of dynamic. It's one of my favorites ngl.

It is their lot in life, this family. While others find their mates and are quickly mated, the Archeron clan must suffer for love. Soren didn't think he'd be in his fathers position and after a few months of distance, is chafing painfully. Lucien, of course, swears it wasn't that bad and he hardly remembers it a all while Elain is around but the second she vanishes hes like, "That shit nearly killed me."

I like to think the High Lords would conspire a little. They're all messy bitches, Thesan included. They decide to send these two off to Summer Court which is blissfully free of all Archeron/Vanserra presence and happy to host. It's a month like affair where the best and brightest go to show off the talent of their courts along white sand beaches.

Obviously Nyx and Kallias's daughter is there (I love them together I won't apologize for this), and so is Soren and his Dawn Court mate. The two cousins are all too happy to also conspire with each other. How do we get these women alone so they realize we're actually like, very cool. Handsome AND charming. Life-long mating material, if you will.

I can't imagine how any of this could go wrong.

Soren can, of course. He sees it all with perfectly clarity. And still he goes.

[yazthebookish]

I need to rant about Azriel

Despite my own personal preference of a love interest for him "yes I'd love to see him with Gwyn"

Azriel deserves to have his own person and I have thought about this way before ACOSF was released and way before Gwyn came into existence.

Azriel is attached to two unattainable females:

• Mor — he had been in love with Mor for 500 years and he desperately was waiting for the mating bond between them to snap because he was so, so sure that there is no one for him but Mor. It can't be. Sadly, Mor never reciprocated his feelings and despite the signals she sent him that she was not interested in him romantically, he remained attached to her.

• Elain — Enter Elain whom had come into the picture while he was still attached to Mor. His bond with her started out as friendship. He found her appealing, both of his brothers have found love with Archeron sisters so surely this one must be for him. Cauldron must hate him, because she has a mate. Lucien Vanserra is Elain's mate and despite her being distant from Lucien, she has an eternal bond with him that bounds him. Yes she isn't forced to accept it, but the mating bond, the rarest and most revered bond in Prythian will always be there. Cassian mentions this at one point, even if a mate rejected the bond they can still feel their other mate's death. She and Lucien will always and forever be connected.

This has nothing to do with ships. I am a big fan of Azriel and I am all about his happiness and healing. I never wanted him to be with Mor even if she returned his feelings one day and I do not find any appeal in him being with Elain. Yes he is respectful and sweet to her, but it does not bring out his personality, I find nothing dynamic about them together.

Then came Gwyneth Berdara, whom I instantly liked as a character all on her own and I did not see her chemistry with Azriel coming. When they shared scenes together, it clicked for me. There is the banter, there is the chemistry brewing, its right there. I don't care if it was not a romantic scene, there was chemistry. You had Aelin and Rowan's training scene, they weren't romantic but people shipped them so hard. Chaol and Yrene "a new character" and their healing sessions. If you have read enough SJM books, you'd know she does not have to resort to romantic scenes to create chemistry between a potential couple.

So, here I found this sweet, strong and beautiful character that made me think she is perfect for Azriel. I already explained a few times why I just adore them together.

Azriel deserves a chance at love. Deserves to be chosen by someone and to have someone that is entirely, and only, his. He deserves a love that blossoms so beautifully yet sweeps him off. He does not deserve to go through the anguish of trying to attain love, let it grow right near him and allow him to experience it's sweet unfolding. If he had a mate, he deserves to be with that mate and experience this rare and precious bond more powerful than any other bond in their universe. It's the bond he had so desperately wanted. It's the bond he believed himself to be unworthy of, for he believed the Cauldron will never gift him this bond. There was Morrigan, it never happened. There was Elain, her two sisters, and the Cauldron's remarkable sense of humor decided that my two brothers were worthy of the two sisters yet the third was not even given to me.

It just breaks my heart. It really does. Aside from the ridiculous ship wars, I just want Azriel to have a love that is entirely his and I find that he has that chance with Gwyn.

Azriel has suffered for a very, very long time. He deserves nothing but the most perfect love, mate or not.

[hoodwinkd1]

Your Eyes Whispered Ch 1-3

I originally posted this story on AO3, but wanted to bring it to my Tumblr now that I’m back on here. Enjoy!

Fic Summary:  After Eris becomes High Lord, there's only one thing on his mind, now that his father is dead and he can finally leave his horrible façade behind. A slow burn romance featuring the misunderstood prince of flame and his mate, a powerful teacher who can't seem to step out of her small town life.

Ch 4-7 here.

Chapter 1: I was enchanted to meet you

It's no small thing, murdering your father in cold blood.

Not that anyone, even Beron, was surprised.

Eris looked at the bloody sword in his hand and then at his father's corpse, lying on the ground at his feet. He closed his eyes as the power of the Autumn Court rushed over him like a tidal wave of fire.

The new High Lord knew that he would have to deal with the consequences of his coup today. But tomorrow, after the dust settled and he dealt with his treacherous brothers, he knew exactly where he needed to be.

The night turned into a swarm of activity as the castle reacted to Beron's death. Advisors fought for a seat at the table, servants spread the rumors like wildfire, his mother gently took him to bathe as it all became too much. Eris slept that night, without terrifying dreams for the first time in centuries

--- He woke to the sunlight filtering through the trees. He had to leave now, before anyone could find him and monopolize his time any futher.

Eris winnowed as soon as he was dressed, landing on the outskirts of a village that had seen better days. He had only been here once in his life, ninety-five year prior, decades before Amarantha took over. His father had sent him and one of his younger brothers to several towns in the Autumn Court as part of their duties. This one had been a bustling center of trade and power, known for its capabilities in producing talented Fae children and training them in magic.

Eris remembered his utter boredom as he watched the parade put on in his honor. His brother Marick had scoffed at the idea of watching children perform small magic tricks, but Beron had insisted they attend to find any who were powerful enough to warrant interest from him. His father always had a nasty habit of stealing children away from their parents to become part of his court.

Eris also remembered the moment his life shifted. As the children moved to the center of town square, beginning their show, his eyes drifted slightly to the left.

And landed on hers. The teacher.

The mating bond snapped, harder and faster than anything.

If she felt it, she gave no indication. Her eyes returned to her students.

Eris swore that this bond, this life-changing connection, would not be ruined like every other good thing in his life. He shoved all the overwhelming feelings and instincts deep into himself, securing his facade into place. The Autumn Court would never know another side to him besides the arrogant, powerful Heir.

But now his father was dead. He was the most powerful Fae in the Court.

Eris wasn't sure how he would find her, or if she even remained in this town. Or, Cauldron damn him, if she was even alive.

This town had suffered. Almost every building showed signs of abandonment or violence and he could sense that the number of Fae in the area had been more than cut in half.

He wandered aimlessly for a bit, unsure. He was terrified to reach inside himself and attempt to tug on the bond, anxious he would find nothing on the other end. Finally, after passing yet another empty house with smashed windows, he pulled himself together and grabbed for the bond.

Gasping as the feeling rose up from within him and overwhelmed his mind, Eris began walking, not entirely in control of his body. He walked by one block, then another, before stopping in front of a one-story building. It stood out as one of the few that looked well-maintained, with all its windows intact and even a flower bed next to the door.

His mate. Alive. In this house. His hand knocked before his mind processed the enormity of emotions at this moment.

One breath passed. She opened the door.

“Can I help you?” she frowned, wary of strangers. He took in everything about her, from her dark hair, slipping out of a frizzy bun to her comfortable clothing, probably pyjamas.

“My apologies,” he started. “I--you surely don’t remember me.”

She turned her head slightly, brown eyes taking in his face. “Have we met? I prefer straight answers from strange males at my door.”

“My name is Eris. I promise I wish you no harm.” Her eyes widened.

“My lord, you must forgive me,” she responded, sharpening her tone to hide her surprise. “It’s not often that royalty appears on my doorstep.”

Eris noted her tense muscles and reluctance to let him in. This was not a female who trusted.

“Forgive me for showing up uninvited. I have a...personal matter to discuss with you and I would rather do it in private.” He attempted a reassuring tone. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but please,” he trailed off, unsure what to possibly say to convince her. His horrible reputation probably preceded him.

She looked him in the eye. “Do you know who I am?”

“I only know that you teach children. I was here for a demonstration, decades ago.”

Shockingly, she stepped back and opened the door wider.

“Certainly, you could have blasted through my wards and yet you chose to knock,” she explained, gesturing him in with a wave of her hand. “How bad can this personal matter be?”

Eris walked in and saw a large, empty room with a mirror on one wall. She led the way over to a table next to a small kitchen. They each chose a chair, then looked awkwardly at the other.

“Can I get you something--”

“No, please, sit down,” he interrupted.

She sat. And pinned those piercing eyes on his.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his soul dying for the answer.

“Rhiannon.” And it was like the entire world shifted, as if he couldn’t imagine any name more beautiful.

“Rhiannon,” he said softly. “I have no good words to say this. When I was visiting, all those years ago, I saw you as the children gave their performance.” He hesitated.

“Lord Eris, I would rather you say it bluntly,” she jumped in. “To be quite honest, I’m extremely worried at the moment.”

“Please, just Eris,” he corrected. “And yes. You’re right. Of course. Well, I felt the mating bond that day. With you.”

If only his enemies could see him now. Keir would keel over of laughter watching him stumble through a simple conversation.

Rhiannon had gone completely still. She stared at him, as if waiting for the punchline. He shrugged.

“You did say bluntly.”

She stood suddenly, stalking over to the kitchen. For some reason unbeknownst to Eris, she began making a pot of tea. He waited.

As the kettle whined, she waved her hand, directing two mugs out of the cabinet and onto the table. Of course. The teacher of magic children would have to have magic as well.

He said nothing, still, as she brought over the tea. Rhiannon poured herself a cup and then watched him do the same.

She broke the silence as he took his first sip. “You’re being serious.”

“I would never joke about something like this,” Eris remarked.

“Why now? That had to have been, what, a century ago?” she demanded. Her dark skin seemed to glow in the daylight from the window above her head.

He looked down at his cup. “I killed my father yesterday. I didn’t think it safe to acknowledge you before that.”

“You---what?!” she yelped, almost dropping her cup. “I said blunt, not absolutely earth-shattering.”

He choked back a laugh. “My apologies. I’ve had a stressful few weeks. But truly, I worried what my father and brothers might do to a partner of mine and never would wish to put you in any danger. So now, at least, I know that threat is handled.”

She considered this. “I have no idea what I’m feeling right now.”

“I understand. More than you now,” Eris acknowledged. “I don’t have any expectations of you. I only hope that we might spend time together, getting to know one another.”

“Get to know you. The High Lord. As my...mate,” she echoed. “I could, I think I would be fine with that.”

“As whatever you want,” Eris disputed. “As I said, I don’t expect a thing.”

“Then as friends. And privately, at least at first.” Rhiannon looked him over. “You’ll have to come here, during hours I’m not teaching or with others.”

He couldn’t believe she had responded positively. Eris would have agreed to any terms she set.

“When can we start?”

She smiled at his obvious enthusiasm. "Tomorrow night. And you're bringing dinner."

Eris couldn't control the huge grin at her smile. This female would probably ruin him and his reputation. Not that he minded in the slightest.

"Anything you want."

Chapter 2: not where the story ends

TW: Mentions of past sexual assault and panic attacks. Nothing graphic or specific, but please do not read if this will harm you. I"ll put XXX before and after any mentions if you need to avoid.

So the High Lord of the Autumn Court had shown up at her door. And thrown her life entirely off-course by announcing they were mates.

Rhiannon lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort her thoughts and feelings into some sort of organized pattern. Her little two-story house and work studio felt suffocating, too small for all the chaos in her head. Throwing off the covers, she grabbed a pair of boots and a coat, winnowing to the street.

The town of Malefic, once a bustling city, stood quiet that night. Rhia wasn't surprised. After five decades of Amarantha, the population had decreased to only a couple thousand. She was relatively sure she could name almost every single Fae, and none of them were night owls.

She strolled down her street, aiming for a field of wheat at the edge of town. It helped to be in a wide, open space where she could see the entire night sky.

Eris Vanserra, the oldest son of the cruel Beron Vanserra, had shown up at her door. One of the most callous and powerful males in Prythian had knocked on her door and awkwardly asked to come in. And he had been, well, sweet. Kind. Attentive.

He'd explained some of his reputation, claiming that his father only valued power from his sons. He told her so much about his history, his regrets, his shame. And she had actually shared some of her life as well. The pull between them had opened her lips, despite her brain screaming at her to think rationally about all the red flags.

Because, unfortunately, even less powerful and less feared males could do so much damage. A fact Rhia knew all too well.

So many citizens had fled or sought aid from the capitol when Amarantha took over. Many others were killed or thrown into those horrendous camps. But Rhia and several other powerful Fae came together and warded the town. They could only cover a square mile, but it was enough at first. For twenty seven years, they maintained the wards, grew their own food, raised children to fight, and lived in fear, but not terror. They had all appreciated how much worse life could be.

Until a group of males snuck through the wards. To this day, Rhia never found out how they managed to get in.

The town woke the next morning to ransacked supplies and distasteful graffiti. The adults breathed a sigh of relief, for they knew how much worse it could be.

XXX

Sofine Linswell woke to her best friend sobbing on her bathroom floor.

Rhia woke to her best friend picking her up off the bathroom floor and hugging her close.

One of the males, as the group had split up, had stumbled upon a small, two-story house and work studio, probably looking for supplies like his companions. Unfortunately, this male found a sleeping, vulnerable female and did what any terrible, depraved soul would do.

Rhia hadn't been able to sleep in her own bed for months, and even now still had nights where she couldn't sleep in the small bedroom.

It had been decades and her life had returned back to almost normal, especially after Feyre Cursebreaker saved the day. She could even have casual sex again, but only with males she knew didn't have more than a drop of magic in them. The fear of being forced to lie still, struggling against invisible bounds, made it difficult for her to trust anyone with more power than she had.

Sofine, her best friend of more than a century, had talked her through many panic attacks over the years before they figured out her aversion to powerful males. Luckily, their little town saw almost no newcomers and Rhia knew her strength could dominated any of their neighbors. Not that she ever needed to, but the thought comforted her.

XXX

But the Cauldron had the most fucked-up sense of humor.

Eris Vanserra had shown up at her door. A male that had infinite more magic and power than she did.

Worse, he was awkward and kind and vulnerable with her. Her stupid brain couldn't just write him off or send him packing.

He hadn't been close enough to touch her once last night, so Rhia had forgotten about her issues for a few hours. But as soon as she closed her eyes, her mind drifted to what it would be like to lie next to him and all the darkness came rushing back.

She hadn't told Sofine yet. The night seemed like a dream, like an unbelievable story you tell yourself to fall asleep.

Eris had given her a piece of parchment before he left and told her to write if she wanted him to come over again. He'd been so obviously nervous that she would never write to him that she'd smiled and told him to keep an eye on it. Yet now, under the midnight sky, she was overwhelmed at the idea of taking a step forward.

She sat in the wheat until the sky started turning pink. Another day of teaching, lunch with Sofi, and cleaning her house.

Winnowing back to her kitchen, Rhia started making a pot of tea. Only caffeine would make this day run smoothly.

Waiting for the boil, she glanced over at the table and saw the piece of parchment glowing. Confused, she went to pick it up.

I apologize if this is intrusive. You probably think I'm incredibly desperate (because I am incredibly desperate). But I just wanted to say that I will take any part of you that you would give me. If you're willing to put me out of my pathetic misery and give me a chance.

She laughed. The rumors simply could not be true. This male couldn't be the same as the cruel, misogynistic bastard that tortured his brother's lover. She couldn't say how, but she knew that for certain.

So, as the sun spilled over the horizon and another peaceful day started, she wrote back.

Chapter 3: passing notes in secrecy

Eris couldn't believe it. It simply couldn't be true.

His advisors, his friends (well, all two of them), even his mother had commented on his mood. He was smiling, often unprompted, and making jokes. The palace full of nobles had no idea what to do with a High Lord that made jokes.

And he was getting his ass kicked in training. Gerwin, one of the two friends, looked down at where he lay on the floor.

"It really shouldn't be that easy for me to take down a High Lord," he grumbled. "First there are rumors of you acting like a fool in meetings and now this?"

Eris stood, pretending to brush some dust off his shirt. "No one thinks I'm acting like a fool. Just differently than my father." The last word got stuck in his throat on the way out, dampening his mood a bit. All of Prythian knew what he did and yet he still hadn't told the actual story to anyone. It felt like a confession, proof his guilt, an irreversible action that might suddenly inspire his Court to abandon him. Although he knew rationally that was unlikely (he had widespread support that came from not being a violent, evil bastard), Eris still felt like he could lose his throne at any second for any reason.

He faced off with Gerwin again, focusing and actually winning the fight.

Eris raced to his chambers after his training session, at a speed more fit to an energized child than the most powerful male in the Autumn Court. He threw open his bedroom door and scrambled to open the top drawer of his nightstand. There sat a glowing piece of parchment.

She actually wrote back, he marveled. Even though she had been writing back at least once a day for the past week, each message still brought Eris a flash of joy and shock.

Their first interaction had been tense and awkward. Her body language had clearly indicated she was uncomfortable with him in her home, but she hadn't kicked him out. The conversation was good, great even, but stayed to safe topics like her town's endeavors and his fumbling advisors. Eris fully believed he had thoroughly fucked up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and would never hear from her again. Except she kept writing.

I hope you understand this taxation argument, because I surely cannot. Some of us were meant only for brute force and fighting, not percentages and financial sheets. He had complained about one of his endless meetings yesterday, where the Financial Minister had almost burst a blood vessel when Eris suggested taxing the rich more than the poor. Outrageous.

He grabbed a pen and chewed on it thoughtfully. His responses were finely crafted to keep the conversation flowing easily and show off some of his stellar personality. His mother's voice, kindly accusing him of acting like an adolescent, floated through his mind. It was rather childish to spend this much time thinking about a female and wooing her, something he'd never really worked hard at before.

I'm glad to know you claim expertise on brute force, since apparently I no longer can. My friend just destroyed me in a training session, in a way that was very embarrassing for me and unbecoming of a High Lord. If I had more friends, I might even accuse him of treason just to avoid my utter defeat again. How are your students?

---

Did he have some sort of magic that could figure out her schedule? He must. There was no other explanation for how Eris managed to send her a message right before she had an important commitment. Rhia had shown up to her classes, a town hall meeting, and now dinner with Sofine with blushing cheeks and an unmanageable smile.

"Ha! There it is! That silly expression you keep getting," Sofine accused, pointing a finger at Rhia's dark red cheeks. "I've been complaining about my leaky sink for two minutes and you sit there staring off into the distance."

"Sorry, sorry, it's just been a long week," Rhia mumbled, turning to grab some bread off the counter so Sofine would stop trying to read her expression. "Classes, students, you know how it gets."

"I surely don't! Students make you groan and complain; this is like....this is more of..." Sofine trailed off, trying to put a finger on what could have her friend so distracted. "Well, honestly, if I didn't know you better, I'd say this was more of a schoolgirl crush." Rhia had no response to that, so she stayed quiet. Sofine gasped, her mind clearly spinning to fill in the gaps,

Maybe staying quiet was going to get her in more trouble. "Sofi, I love you so dearly, but I clearly don't have a 'schoolgirl crush' and I'm not sure how I would've managed to keep that a secret from you." Rhia hoped it would be enough. They were both over a century year old and yet sat here gossiping about crushes. Absurd.

Luckily, her friend let it go and the rest of the conversation was blessedly normal. After finishing a bottle of sparkling wine together, the females decided to call it a night. They both had the day off tomorrow and had huge plans to attend the local farmer's market.

Humming to herself, Rhia began to slowly clean the glasses off the table. Her thoughts trailed away from the town and towards the capitol. Eris. She hadn't written back to him yet.

Perhaps writing to the High Lord of the Autumn Court who was also your mate after half a bottle of wine wasn't the smartest idea in the world. Rhia hushed that logical voice in her brain and grabbed the paper to reread his response. Silly, how such a little joke about a rough training session caused her to blush again.

There was no second-guessing, no careful editing, no worry as she wrote back. The High Lord taken down by a simple training instructor? I would have loved to see it. My students are little terrors as always, though none are powerful enough yet to spar with me. I suppose I'll go through a similar embarrassment when they are.

His response came so quickly. Was he sitting in bed, just waiting for her to write him back? She giggled at the image, then giggled at her giggle because she wasn't the type of Fae to giggle normally. And the word giggle sounded funny.

My pride is quite grateful you weren't there to see it happen. A second later, as if an afterthought, another line appeared. And if you ever actually would like to see me, all you have to do is ask.

Her insides warmed. She blushed, yet again, at the shameless flirting. But at the same time, her brain kicked into overdrive at the idea that this was more than letter writing and idle flirting. The High Lord wanted to see her and she wanted to see him, a terrifying thought that would normally send her running. Luckily, the wine kept her mind open and her words flowing.

Maybe I only want to see you get kicked beaten knocked around in training.

Scratch that sentence I don't think I'm making sense. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say.

"Oh shit," Rhia cursed at her confusion. The wine certainly wasn't making anything clearer.

Let me try again. I'd like to see you in my kitchen again.

In your kitchen? How specific. I'll be there whenever you tell me. And, please correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe you would still enjoy watching someone beat me up in a sparring ring. Eloquence fails us all sometimes, it's quite alright.

Aren't High Lord supposedd to be busy? Her handwriting had started looking noticeably sloppy as her eyes began to droop. I have no plans tomorrow night.

Excellent. Tomorrow night. And no, we simply appear busy while others do all the work. It's a very simple and fun job.

I'm going to bed. Otherwise I might make more of a fool of myself. Rhia doubted that Eris would mind some sloppy handwriting and confusing messages, but she knew worse things might come out if they stayed up late in the night, writing on this stupid piece of paper.

---

Eris couldn't believe it. He was seeing her again tomorrow, technically today since midnight was long passed. He closed his eyes, feeling something that felt a bit like redemption and forgiveness grow within him.