#neri writes

[writergeekrhw]

Why did Kira keep getting hooked up with random men when she was clearly a lesbian?

Real talk? It was the '90s. Paramount wasn't ready for LGBTQ+ Kira.

If you want an in-universe explanation, remember that Kira's pretty conservative religiously and socially, and probably more than a little repressed.

[surasca]

A commission of my Warden Nerys Surana by @vats9underscore9

[walkingstackofbooks]

"Are you happier? Now that the war is over?"

It had been meant as a serious question, but from the look on Kira's face, she hadn't caught onto that. "What sort of question is that, 'am I happier'?" she asked, laughing a little as she spoke. "Of course I am! Who isn't?"

Shrugging, Julian forced himself to smile back at her. "No, of course," he agreed. "Silly question."

His smile clearly hadn't been convincing: Kira's own smile had faded as she looked at him more closely, her eyebrows creasing into a frown.

"Have I done something to make you think I'm not?" she asked sharply. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No-- no, nothing like that," Julian said hurriedly. "I mean, obviously Odo's gone now, and Keiko and the Chief, and Worf, and... and the Captain... But that-- That's different, isn't it, I guess. You can be sad and happy at the same time, right?"

He cringed, knowing that he hadn't quite managed to make sense there: years of practice had made him very good at recognising Kira's 'baffled' expression.

"All these years," said Kira, slowly shaking here head, "and I still don't understand you, sometimes. Of course I miss Odo, and the others -- and while we're at it, of course I'm still angry and-- and upset about the things that happened during the war..." She made a face, banging her fist lightly against the table. "Damn you, you know I'm no good with feelings, that's... there's a lot more there, besides," she added. "And I'm sure as hell not going into that right now...

"But if you're asking whether I'd rather be here, now, living without the threat of the Dominion or the Cardassians, knowing my friends are alive and safe -- and if they're not, at least being able to mourn them in peace, not having to make decisions that could get us all killed if it goes even slightly wrong... or if I'd rather be back there, in the war -- well. It's no contest, is it?"

"In theory, no, of course--"

"In theory?" Kira asked incredulously. "Julian, are you saying you were happier in the war?"

"No!" he exclaimed: that hadn't been what he'd meant at all. "The war was-- it was... Well, you couldn't be happy during the war, could you? Everything was too awful, it was impossible."

"A lot of the time, yeah," Kira said softly. "And that's gonna stick with us for a long time -- but they're only memories, now. We made it."

"We did," Julian said quietly, his eyes fixed on the table. "I just... I thought I'd be happier, I guess. Now that it's all over."

Kira reached forward, brushing her hand over his. "That's what this is all about?" she asked. "You aren't happy?"

"I never said I'm not," Julian objected hotly, looking back up at her -- but a sigh slipped out of him as he realised he didn't actually have an argument, and he shook his head, slumping back into his chair. Kira watched him, not saying anything.

"No, you're right," he admitted, pulling his arms across himself, almost too tight. "I know I'm supposed to be-- I know, after everything, it's so stupid... But, Nerys, I don't-- I don't think I am?"

Stopping to swallow the lump that had risen in his throat, he noticed he eyes had grown wet, which for some reason made him chuckle. "Isn't that silly?" he asked, leaning forward again. "We won the war, but I'm still not happy."

"No, Julian," Kira replied slowly. "I don't think that's silly at all. It's just... It's just very, very sad." She took a breath, reaching out to hold both his hands this time. "I'm sorry," she continued. "I didn't know."

"It's not your fault," he said, squeezing her hands tightly. "For a while, I just thought everyone else was pretending, too, so I just went along with it... And then I started to realise that no, you were all actually at least a little bit okay, and so I had to keep pretending, because happiness is so fragile and I didn't, you know, want to make anyone else feel bad just because I..."

He trailed off, shrugging a little. "I don't know, Nerys. I guess I just wanted to check that it wasn't just me, but it is just me, and now I've told you, and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad--"

"Julian, no," Kira interrupted. "Thank you for sharing this with me -- I'm glad you told me, okay?"

Ears growing hot, Julian ducked his head, not quite sure to do with the wave of emotion spilling over him. Now that he'd told her some of it, he kind of wanted to let everything out. Distractedly, he started tracing patterns on her hands, pushing into them with increasing intensity.

"It's just-- I'm just..." He stumbled over his words, struggling to give voice to the one thought that he'd been trying to ignore for months. "What if this is it for me? What if I'm like this forever? It's been years, Nerys--"

To his horror, his voice cracked, and he covered his mouth, trying to hold back the sobs that were threatening to burst out. Hoping that no-one else had noticed, he looked around the replimat; thankfully the other diners seemed more interested in their own conversations than in him and Kira.

"Would you like to go somewhere less public?" Kira asked. Not quite trusting himself to speak, he nodded, and together they left the replimat.

As they walked down the promenade and up to the habitat ring, Kira steered clear of their previous conversation, chatting about the station, her week, her latest grievance with Quark, and Julian was grateful for the respite. But as soon as they were sat down in her quarters, she turned to him with a most serious expression.

"It isn't right, you feeling like that, you know," she said. "I don't have the answers, I don't know how it gets better -- but we both know someone who would. You haven't tried telling Ezri any of this, have you?"

Julian's stomach tightened: Ezri was the last person he wanted to have this particular conversation with. "Oh, yes, because that would go so well," he retorted sarcastically. "Hi Ezri, I love you, but you don't make me happy. Don't worry, it's not you, I'm just unhappy most of the time. Most of the time? Yeah, it gets better when I'm around you, because then I just kind of feel... nothing. What an improvement!"

"Julian..." whispered Kira, but it was all coming out now and Julian couldn't make it stop. He rose from the sofa, starting to pace as he spoke.

"Did you ever make me happy? Maybe, sweetheart, but I'm not even certain of that. I might have been so desperate for anything even resembling happiness that I just deluded myself into thinking I was in love... Do I even love you? Who the fuck knows, Ezri. Is love even real, or did it die in the war along with every-fucking-thing else?"

His voice had risen louder than he'd intended, condemning him with every word it pushed forcefully into the air. He'd made Kira cry, he thought, but he couldn't quite be sure, his vision being clouded by his own mess of tears.

"How could I possibly tell her that?" he asked, sitting back down heavily, his voice dropping to a hollow whisper. "Kira, how the hell do I tell her that?"

"Come here," she said in way of a response, pulling him against her and holding him tightly, so that he could feel her lips move against his hair as she answered him. "I don't know," she was saying, "but you have to, Julian. I can be there with you if you want but, Prophets, Julian, you have to. How could you not?"

How could he not?

Julian closed his eyes and let himself fall apart against his friend, not even bothering to try to answer her. It was terrifying, after all this time, to finally allow someone to see how broken he really was, but he was far, far too tired to keep it in any longer.

[youngpettyqueen]

Kira and Julian going at each other like rabbits in Fascination will always be fucking hilarious to me just because its so funny to consider where the attraction lies with these two. like its not surprise at all that Julian is attracted to Kira, literally just look at her, but then you think about Kira being attracted to Julian and it seems to unlikely and like prime 90s Trek hetero bullshit, but I would like to pose that it actually does work

im not saying Kira has secret feelings for Julian or anything like that, I cannot emphasize enough that I do not ship these two, but since Lwaxana's influence draws on even the most subconscious attraction, I think it's perfectly feasible that Kira would have subconscious attraction to Julian. and I dont think its looks or charm or anything like that, but rather that Julian is, right from the get go, absolutely ready to throw down with anybody regardless of authority or whether or not they could snap him in half. again, I dont think she has any romantic feelings for him, but yeah it makes sense that she would see him do some bullshit like call the goddamn Kai a coward to her face, and go "hm." on a subconscious level

Julian would be an absolute menace with this information if he ever found out about it and this is why Kira refuses to ever talk about the events of Fascination ever again

[tellmelater]

sjm romance week day 1 - first date

nesta and eris would go dancing… duh

@sjmromanceweek

[onefey]

howdy! today is the two year anniversary of my au! to celebrate, here's various Stuff and Things, plus a design for the phantom cutlass :)

[rosesncarnations]

What is it to feel homesick without a home to come to?

[achaoticalien]

You were drowning in fire. Burning in the inferno you were forced under, learning to live for the flame. Letting it coarse over your skin until you felt nothing but the pain, the heat. It’s intensity washing through you until you were the embers themselves.  But embers die, and flames burn out. And you were left colder than before.

Nesta Archeron-

After months had passed since the Wars conclusion, the sight of bodies decaying under the armies trampling foot. Nesta is left with the scraps of her life. In a world that views her as other, surrounded by people who pick at every seam until she comes undone.

Sentenced to a life at the mercy of the Hewn City. She resigns to a life of rotting. After the chance of a human life spent travelling slips through her fingertips.

Until Eris Vanserra she spots in the crowd of people who watch her sentence. And something falls into place as they lock eyes.

Eris Vanserra-

With little options and even littler time. Eris is grasping at straws to secure his spot on the throne. With lying bastards abounding, and shadows whispering in every dark crevice and corner, he quickly strikes deals with the Night Court, trying to scramble for an alliance with the rest of Prythian under his father's nose.

Weighing down under the stress, and knowing the deadline is drawing near, Eris is remaining smooth and composed as he can.

Until he sees Nesta dragged to her knees before the throne of the Night Court. Sentenced to remain under the Mountain of Night. Electricity sparks, as they lock eyes.

The story of Nesta and Eris Vanserra, how they wove their way through politics, lies and magic alike.

This is a Tumblr Story, each chapter will be linked to this masterpost as they are uploaded.

Chapter One- Eris Vanserra

Chapter Two- Nesta Archeron

Chapter Three- Eris Vanserra

Chapter Four- Nesta Archeron

[clockwork-ashes]

Day 6 - AU | Retellings

Note: for day 6 of @erisweekofficial <3 this is a modern neris au! thank you for reading!!!

Summary: Eris can’t skate, but Nesta thinks it’ll be fun to try and teach him the basics (modern au, one-shot). Read also on Ao3 <3

Nesta was on her knees, looking up at Eris through her golden lashes. There was an amused tilt to her full lips, a knowing sparkle in her lovely eyes. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and he was consumed by the sudden urge to trace the curve of her sharp jaw with his mouth. 

Eris watched as Nesta ran gentle fingers through her long hair, pulling the strands together to loop them around her fingers so she could tie them back. No wisps escaped her neat bun despite how little effort she had put into making it. She tugged at the hem of his pants sharply, her palm straightening the wrinkled fabric on his other leg. Eris felt heat rise to his cheeks, was sure he had turned a deep scarlet. 

“Next,” she ordered, waiting for him to present her with the foot whose skate laces had not yet been tied. 

Eris did as she said, glancing around the large space and noticing with some embarrassment that there were children fully capable of putting on their skates with no help. Nesta did the laces expertly, her movements practised. He was surprised with how much strength she used before hooking the string into place, making sure the boot hugged his ankle comfortably.  

Nesta took a moment to admire her work, seemingly pleased with herself, before she sat next to Eris so that she could put on her own skates. 

Eris wiggled his feet, raising a brow at the unfamiliar feeling. 

It was a cool autumn day, but the sun was bright, breaking the frigid temperature slightly. Not yet cold enough for outdoor rinks, Nesta had suggested they go to the community centre during the public skating hours. 

When Eris had learned that she was a figure skating coach after competing for years, he had been impressed. It was only after they had begun dating that he had actually seen how talented she was on the ice, although he had never joined her, content to simply watch her spin and glide effortlessly on the rink behind the safety of the boards. 

Nesta had wanted him to try, and Eris had been unable to refuse her. He could barely remember the last time he had done anything athletic, deciding that his daily jog was entirely unhelpful. Eris had played lacrosse in university, but he figured none of the skills translated well to skating. 

Maybe she sensed his unease, but as soon as Nesta straightened from tying her laces, she placed a hand on his thigh. “You sure you don’t want to wear a helmet?” 

Eris huffed a laugh, “I think I’m good.” He was feeling out of place just sitting on the bench, the stiff fabric of the skate cutting into his skin despite the thick socks he was wearing. He was having a hard time imagining himself on the ice.  

Nesta got up easily, but he stayed seated until she offered him her hand. “Don’t worry,” she reassured, “I won’t let you fall.” 

Eris placed his large hand into her much smaller one, his knees buckling in protest as his ankles turned in on themselves. He wobbled backwards with a ridiculous yelp, knowing he would have fallen if Nesta had not been there to steady him. “I think you’re going to have your work cut out for you.” 

In response, Nesta tilted her chin up. Eris pressed his lips to hers, meeting her halfway. He did not think he was doing a very good job of disguising how worried he was, but the way she rubbed her hand along his arm provided him with some much needed comfort. 

They walked at his pace to the open door leading onto the rink. “Watch your step,” Nesta advised. 

The ice looked like it had just been flooded, very few marks on the smooth surface. One hand still clutching Nesta’s, Eris gripped the glass in preparation for getting past the step. Two little girls in hockey skates and shin pads flew across them in a blur. Eris wondered if it was too late to ask Nesta for a pair. 

Nesta got onto the ice easily, and when he followed her without losing his balance, he took a moment to silently celebrate his victory. 

“There you go,” she said, all encouragement. She let go of him, clapping her hands together like he had seen her do when children successfully completed a difficult spin. “Now use the blade to push yourself forward.” 

How hard could it be, Eris thought to himself.

He instantly regretted the little bit of confidence getting on the ice gave him, his leg slipping from under him. He barely stood a chance, balancing never having been an option. He threw out his arm, hoping to break his fall. His knees hit the ice painfully. “Fuck,” he grunted loudly, the word ripped from his throat. 

A mother holding a young kid glared at him from the other side of the glass. Eris frowned at her disapproval, but Nesta rushed to help him and he tore his attention from the onlooker. 

“Maybe we should get you one of the skating aids,” she said absently, dragging him to his feet with little effort. 

Eris sighed. “I don’t think any come in a big enough size.”  

“You okay?” Nesta asked, concerned. She held onto his arm in a tight grip, like she was anticipating him to lose his footing at any moment. 

Eris flashed her a smile, nodding. She continued to coach him, helping him learn the basic actions of moving along the ice. After a while, Eris could even say he had grasped the basics. 

Nesta spent much of the time skating backwards effortlessly, pulling him along. When his pick got stuck in the ice and he tripped, she easily steadied him and kept herself upright. Her laughter was contagious, her absolute joy at doing what she loved enough to convince Eris he had to take lessons on the weekend.  

When Eris was finally comfortable skating as Nesta led him, he decided to try and move on his own. His muscles tensed as soon as she let go of his hands, but her answering smile had him relaxing. 

He glided a few steps, his tongue between his teeth and resting at the corner of his mouth in concentration. 

“Don’t do that,” Nesta instructed. He obeyed, his arms wide so he could balance better. 

After he did alright on his own for a while, Nesta drifted to his side. She linked their fingers together, a perfect fit, as they moved at his slow pace along the ice. 

Just when Eris was starting to feel as though he had gotten the hang of it, his toe pick got stuck once again and he crashed to the cold surface, dragging Nesta down with him. 

“Falling really hurts,” he mumbled, his legs pinned to the ice as she practically sat on his lap. 

Nesta blew strands of hair from her face, so close to him he could count all fifteen of the freckles on the bridge of her nose. “We can leave–” 

“I’m having a nice time,” Eris interrupted, wanting to clarify. Whenever he was with Nesta, he enjoyed himself. He loved her company, and in the time they had dated, she had become his best friend. 

Nesta smiled, her expression unguarded. She adjusted his scarf, pulling him close as her fingers clung to the cloth. 

Eris forgot for a moment that they were not alone, his eyes falling shut as she pressed her mouth to his. It might have been cold in the arena, but Eris only felt the warmth of Nesta’s lips as she kissed him. 

[acourtofladydeath]

Eris Week '24 Day 3: Healing/Betrayal

Nesta and Eris find more than a superb dance partner in each other, and their mates, Cassiand and Azriel, go on a wild goose chase to figure out why they’ve been secretly spending nights together.

Day 3 of @erisweekofficial has Nesta and Eris dancing their way through therapy together, as best friends are wont to do. Read a snippet below, or find the full fic on AO3.

It was the night of the month Nesta most dreaded and looked forward to, the simultaneous emotions warring within her. She zipped up her favorite gown and tried to steady her nervous hands by running her fingers through the gossamer fabric that seemed to float on air. It moved beautifully as she brushed it back and forth, a calming dance that kept her transfixed until her breaths evened. With her nerves under control, Nesta checked her reflection one last time to confirm her braids were tightly pinned in place. Practiced hands smoothed back the few fly-aways that could become a distraction until she was satisfied. She gave herself a small smile while she combed through the skirt of her gown once more and watched it move between her fingers in the mirror. When she was ready to leave, Nesta went back through the room to cover her tracks. She rearranged the closet so her missing dress was less obvious and placed an outfit inconspicuously in the corner so she could easily change upon her return. The note she wrote for Cassian was brief, asking him not to wait up and giving a vague excuse for her absence. He respected her independence, so she didn’t think he would read too hard between the lines. As she snuck down the hall, Nesta could smell her mate walking toward their room and ducked away as quickly as possible, off to her monthly rendezvous. 

Keep reading here on AO3!

Thank you to @the-darkestminds for betaing this fic!

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist! @pippsmcgee, @born-to-riot, @chunkypossum, @bubybubsters, @queercontrarian, @yanny-77 , @fieldofdaisiies , @iftheshoef1tz , @secret-third-thing , @jules-writes-stories , @the-darkestminds , @climbthemountain2020 , @molcat07

[leohttbriar]

"most aren't quite so evident" she says to kira, as if she herself isn't one of kira's walking-talking scars, as if she isn't carried around by kira, while she only grows heavier and more inflamed as the episode goes on. still. kira pushes her mother's hair aside and touches her mother's face so gently--watching almost possessively when dukat removes the scar from her mother's face because her mother really was a scar she was happy to wear only now it's different. now her mother-scar is too evident. now she understands her mother but she doesn't want to. kira has been pushed into too many grey spaces in her life and she really didn't want her mother to be another. which is why she moves her mother's hair aside, to pull her mother and her mother's bravery from the grey shadow. and then the scar is "healed" and maybe kira is bitter than she herself can't be.

[writergeekrhw]

Why is mirror Kira so queer coded? Don’t get me wrong, I’m here for it, but was that something that was intentional?

It was intentional to portray Mirror Kira as Kira without the guard rails. That includes things she could definitely use, like, you know, a conscience, but it also means Mirror Kira doesn't suffer from denial, religious hang-ups, or general self-repression.

Draw your own conclusions from that.

[gwandas]

@nerisweek is over for most of you but it's actually still Friday somewhere so I'm still posting this 😗

This was supposed to be for Day 5 but I'm late so here, damn.

Title: The Divorce Trap Rating: E Word Count: 6.4K Summary:

If Rhys’ father wouldn’t have him killed for it, Eris would’ve strangled his client then and there. The truth was he was so busy with work that he hadn’t considered who Rhys was divorcing when he agreed to represent him. He also hadn’t considered that Feyre, on her elementary school art teacher salary, wouldn’t be able to afford as good of a lawyer as her future ex-husband and would have to ask her older sister for help.

[ysmtttty]

WIP || Neris week day 5: AU

Lawyer AU where Eris and Nesta used to be rivals before she got married and decided to leave the field.

Rumor has it that after seven years of marriage, Nesta Archeron got divorced. Rumor has it that after seven years of marriage, Nesta Archeron is returning to the legal field. Rumor has it that after seven years of marriage, Nesta Archeron was seen in the company of her former rival.

[rose-of-the-grave]

Crown

Pairing: Nesta x Eris

Hey, everyone! This is a follow up to Castle that I have had planned for a while ever since someone commented that they wanted a pt.2 so here it is! This is also my first time actually writing and posting smut so please be gentle, I hope you enjoy! As always I'm the author (please don't repost)

Also this is for day 7 of eris week! @erisweekofficial

Masterlist. Read on Ao3.

Warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, oral(f and m receiving), biting, blood, kissing, use of fuck?, eris is HL, 'touch her and die', protective eris, idk what else really

Word Count: 4215

Description: Following Eris becoming High Lord there is a lot to do, including a meeting with the inner circle and a ball to formally announce his best title. In between all of this shenanigans ensue.

Taglist: @sylveryfire

They stood there, lungs heaving, as it all came crashing down. He was the new High Lord. She was now Lady of the Autumn Court. There was so much to be done. There were reforms to be put in place, people to get rid of. Soon there would be visitors, ambassadors from other courts ready to feel out any weaknesses, to gain an alliance with the new High Lord.

But first, they would have to clean themselves off. Beron’s blood was splattered on their clothes and their altercation had left them both looking a bit disheveled. They were in no state for company.

Before either of them got the time to think, a servant entered the room. Her startled gasp at her High Lord lying on the ground, dead, while his son and daughter-in-law both stood together, a sword in her hand and blood covering both of them. Eris turned to face her and instantly she knew that he was his father’s heir.

Bowing low, “My lord.”

Without pause he commanded her to fetch his mother.

“What happens now?” Nesta asked, unsure of what procedure must be followed in this type of situation.

Eris let out a weary sigh. “Now we send out an announcement to all of the High Lords and send out invites to all Autumn Court nobility for a ball to formally introduce myself as the High Lord.” He was used to this sort of political game but the stakes just got raised with his new title. All eyes would be on him to see if he would follow in his father’s footsteps or make changes. Either way, he would make many enemies along the way.

“Eris?”

In the doorway stood the former Lady of the Autumn Court looking elegant as usual although there was still a deathly paleness to her complexion.

“Mother above! Is he…” Her hand flew to her mouth, shocked by the sight before her. She dared not say it out loud for fear that it would reverse it. The idea that her husband was finally deceased seemed too good to be true.

“Yes.” Nesta said, sword still in hand.

The only words she could hear in head was ‘I’m free’ over and over. After centuries of an unhappy marriage she finally allowed herself to think of a life without Beron. For so long it had only been a fleeting thought that she had only allowed herself to have once and never again. Until now, that is. Now she was free to do as wished. It was a dizzying thought.

---------------------------------------------

A few days later the announcement that Eris was the new High Lord had been sent out, everyone was officially aware of Beron’s death. The invites for the ball had also been sent out. Although Nesta didn’t say anything she was slightly concerned that they would have visitors from the Night Court. She knew Rhys didn’t particularly trust either of them and would want to ensure that Eris would actually be an ally to them. Undoubtedly Feyre would do her best to convince him she should come as well despite her condition. If that happened then Azriel and Cassian would likely accompany them both.

She hadn’t seen Cassian since before the wedding and Nesta really didn’t want a repeat of that.

She leaned in the doorway of Eris’ new office where he sat examining papers. His head in one hand, hair messy from running his fingers through it, he looked exhausted and yet, also extremely hot. His fiery hair shone in the light coming from the fireplace.

“Hey.”

He looked up and over at where she stood in nothing but her pajamas.

“Why are you still up? I thought you went to bed.” Eris asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m almost done here, I can come by your room when I’m done.”

She shook her head, “I’ll wait.”

For the past several days he had been sleeping in her room. Both of them were far too stressed to engage in much conversation but they had managed to find solace in each other’s presence.

When they did finally go to bed the two of them nearly collapsed from exhaustion onto the bed, almost immediately falling asleep. As sleep claimed them their bodies drifted towards each other, their limbs intertwining.

------------------------------------

“Rhysand has requested a meeting.”

Nesta looked over at him from where she was pulling on her clothes.

“Is he coming here?”

He shook his head. “No, in the Hewn City.”

There was a pause. Rhys would want to ensure that he was still an ally now that he was High Lord now. Feyre would be there, she thought. So would Cassian. Regardless, it was important that they put up a unified front.

“When do we leave?”

Eris grimaced, “One hour.”

They did indeed leave an hour later, dressed to impress. Eris wore Autumn Court colors, the red and gold complimenting his features. Nesta’s dress matched. It was black with red and gold designs, outlines of leaves. They looked like a match made in hell.

When they arrived they were escorted to a meeting room that was not unfamiliar to Eris, he had had a meeting there once before not too long ago. Keir was already there but the Inner Circle was not. Waiting, Nesta thought, to make an intimidating entrance. An effort to make her and Eris not important enough to show up on time.

Time ticked away, the three of them sitting without making a sound. Under the table Nesta felt a warm hand placed over hers. Her heartbeat slowed a bit, brought back out of her imagination.

The doors burst open, revealing Feyre and Rhysand flanked on either side by Azriel and Cassian. The four of them took a seat across from them. Eris gave her a hand a small squeeze before facing them. Rhys waved a hand, dismissing Keir. He started to protest but thought better of it, running off.

All four of them were dressed in Night Court black, Azriel and Cassian wore all of their siphons, the light blazing. Feyre was even more pregnant than before. She put on a good face, void of emotion, but Nesta could see the strain in her features. Rhys looked unbothered as usual, picking an invisible piece of lint off of his suit as Eris discussed the promises he had made if this should happen. He had been promised protection in case the Autumn Court did not agree with changes he might make.

There was a small pause that would have gone unnoticed by most but Nesta caught it.

“We will send Cassian with you.”

No. There’s no way he said that. Nesta quickly masked her surprise but she noticed how odd the others were acting. This wasn’t decided before coming here. Or at least it hadn’t been discussed. She noticed the small, near imperceptible tell on her sister’s face, Rhys had made this decision without her. Azriel looked calm on the surface but she had a feeling that he was also thrown for a loop. Cassian however she didn’t look at.

Instead she glanced at Eris by her side, the unsurprised look on his face. He had expected this, she realized.

The High Lord of the Autumn Court sneered at Cassian, “Very well.” The Illyrian didn’t look all too happy either and Nesta was wondering what she had done to deserve this.

They all stood, Cassian walking over to the door. Feyre approached her, a hesitant expression on her face. Rhysand’s eyes did not budge from them, his very gaze threatening her endless pain if she dared to even consider hurting her sister. She shot a glare his way before she gave Feyre a small hug. They weren’t close but she was still her little sister.

“Tell Elain I said hi.”

Feyre bowed her head slightly, “Of course. She misses you. We all do.”

Her sentiment was not shared with the rest of the Inner Court but Nesta appreciated it nonetheless.

The whole way back to the Autumn Court was quiet, full of snide remarks and disgruntled looks. Every casual gesture of Eris’ towards her almost seemed pointed towards Cassian. Yet somehow they managed to return home without any actual fighting.

“One of the servants will have a room made for you. I’m sure you won’t mind that it’s right next to the stables. Better than what you’re used to I’m sure.”

Cassian was about to retort when Eris continued with a devilish smirk, “In fact, in order to truly protect us against threats you had better stand outside our bedroom.”

Cassian coughed, looking away from Nesta, “Our?”

“Yes. We are married. Did your mother never tell you what married couples do?” He leaned in a bit, “They fuck.”

Nesta snorted. Cassian turned bright red, not meeting their gazes. When she married Eris he clearly hadn’t imagined that they would actually be together. In his mind she was a victim, marrying Eris because she didn’t feel worthy and Eris was terrible enough to take advantage of her. While his imaginings were not unfounded his savior complex was misplaced.

Nesta walked to her room, exhausted and hungry. She still hadn’t finished one of her books and had been forced to pause in the middle of a very interesting scene. Eris followed behind, Cassian further behind him. When they reached the room Eris entered behind her and slammed the door leaving Cassian out in the hall with nothing to do but stand there and guard.

Nesta shrugged off her dress and pulled on something far more comfortable, climbed up onto the bed and grabbed her book. She sat there watching Eris also dress a little more casually, admiring his body. The candlelight illuminated his hair, making it look like a living flame. She clenched her thighs, watching his muscles flex with every movement.

“I can feel you staring.” He teased.

“And? We’re married. I’m free to look as I please.”

He turned towards the bed, “I never told you to stop.”

Changing the subject, she said, “You knew he would suggest Cassian be sent with us.” It wasn’t a question.

His expression shifted, no longer playful. “I suspected he would. The spymaster would be too obvious, Morrigan would refuse, and he wouldn’t come himself. Make no mistake, I am well aware that he has spies in my court but if I can keep my eyes on their main source of information all the better.”

“Plus you enjoy messing with him.”

He smiled, his amber eyes twinkling with amusement. “Indeed.”

A deliciously wicked thought came to her. She bore Cassian no ill will, well, not much but she sure did love to annoy him. Especially after how he acted after the dance where she was supposed to entrigue Eris. Part of it was she wanted to ensure he realized that this was entirely her idea, she actually wanted to be with Eris although she hadn’t at first. Secondly she knew that this would be fun.

Reluctantly she put down her book, promising herself that she could read it after. She expected him to want to get right into it so he could demonstrate just how much they did indeed fuck to Cassian. Instead he started pulling her shirt up. Lifting her arms, he pulled it up and over revealing that she was wearing nothing underneath.

One of his hands went to her breast, cupping it. A finger teasing her nipple. The other went to her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She moaned when he bit her lip, grinning into the slight pain of his canines just barely breaking the skin. Pulling away he started leaving open mouth kisses down her chest, his hand moving down to her other breast. Lifting up again he pressed delicate kisses to her breasts, just shy of her nipple, his hands off to the side supporting his weight. His mouth circled them, never actually touching her where she wanted.

“Eris, please.”

He grinned before finally sucking one of them, letting go with a light pop before moving to her other one. Shifting further downward he pushed her legs further apart, settling between them.

“So wet.” He murmured, thrusting in his finger. Adding a second one, he leaned in licking up her center, teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue. He sped up his hand motions, adding a third finger but never actually touching her where she wanted him to. Nesta twisted her body, trying to get him to touch her clit but simply moved away.

She whined, “Eris!”

“That’s right. Tell him who’s making you feel good.” He encouraged, thrusting his fingers faster, bringing her closer and closer to the edge before finally flicking her clit with the very tip of his tongue.

“Eris!” She shouted as she came. When she finally relaxed he shifted upwards, bringing his mouth to her ear, his lips just barely brushing her.

“That’s my good girl.”

She turned her head, kissing him, tasting herself on his lips.

“Take your clothes off.” Nesta commanded.

“Take them off yourself.” He dared her.

She huffed but pushed him up into a seated position, pulling his shirt off before tugging on his pants, pulling them down. His hard cock sprung out, released from the cloth. She pulled them all the way off before bringing both hands up to his thighs. He was big but she knew that already.

She licked up the length of him, fisting him in one hand. Her fingers weren’t even able to touch. Pressing a featherlight kiss to his tip, she slowly took him into her mouth. Bobbing her head up and down, trying to take more of his length. He thrust up into her mouth slightly, choking her a little. She looked up at him with watery eyes before sucking on him, hard, spurred on by his moans.

“Fuck!”

He pulled her off him despite her protests.

“I want to hear you moaning my name so everyone,” He says with a pointed glance towards the door, “Knows you’re mine.”

He flipped her under him, lining himself up with her entrance. He met her gaze, smirked before thrusting into her hard. She groaned, loudly. Outside Cassian was sitting, listening in. He had been instructed to not leave their side his entire time here but he didn’t think Rhys had anticipated them fucking like rabbits within his earshot. He grimaced, wishing to be anywhere but there.

“You’re doing so good for me.”

Eris’ gaze never wavered from Nesta’s face, thrusting into her, watching her eyes roll back a bit. The noises she made were music to his ears. Reaching her arms up she tugged him closer, latching onto his neck, sucking at the pale skin. He groaned when her teeth broke skin.

“My little bloodsucker.” He said fondly, caressing her hair that had previously been braided but was now coming undone into loose waves. Taking advantage of his loss of focus she leveraged her strength, turning them over so he was underneath her and she was riding him, both hands placed firmly on his toned stomach.

Eris leaned back, his arms crossed behind his head, watching her fuck herself on his cock, her breasts bouncing every time she thrust down onto him. He was mesmerized by her near-hypnotic movements, thrusting up into her at the same time she pushed down.

When her gaze finally met his, he caught a glimpse of something that almost gave him pause. Her eyes were beautiful blue gray normally but now they looked almost silver. Then she blinked and it disappeared.

Realizing that she was getting close he flipped her back under him, a hand creeping between their bodies to rub her clit. He could feel her getting close, clenching so hard on him that he nearly saw stars.

“Come on, that’s it. Tell me, who’s fucking you so well?” He watched as she arched her back, the bulge of his cock making a visible bump in her stomach. Pressing down lightly he could feel himself move inside of her.

She moaned, “You!.”

“Say my name.”

She moaned again, clenching hard before finally reaching her release at the same time as him.

“Eris!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, loud enough others in the castle could probably hear if they passed by their room. As they both came down he kept on lazily thrusting into her before slowly pulling out. Staring into her eyes he thought he saw a flash of silver again but then it was gone.

Remembering their original objective she decided to have some fun. Saying louder than normal, “God, you’re so big.”

Teasing her a bit, he asked, “Bigger than Cassian?”

“Way bigger than Cassian.”

From outside the room they heard a sharp cough and sounds of someone kicking something.

Grinning at her he asked,”Best you’ve ever had?”

“Now, now don’t get ahead of yourself.” She teased, shrugging, “I’ve had better.”

“Oh, yeah?” He pulled her to him, claiming her mouth with a kiss.

“Convinced yet?” He asked.

“Convince me again.” Smiling, he pulled her in for another kiss.

Finally he pulled away for a second to grab a warm, soaking wet cloth to clean her off.

“Ready for round two?” She asked suggestively.

He groaned, hanging his head. “I wish I could but I still have more paperwork I need to get done for tomorrow before the ball.”

Nesta pouted, her bottom lip jutting out a bit causing him to lean in, gently pulling at her lip with his teeth. “I’ll be back in an hour, I promise.”

She narrowed her eyes at him before sighing, “Fine, I guess I’ll just have to take care of myself then.”

He leaned in, cupping her pussy with one hand. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

She crossed her arms defiantly. “Me.”

“Wrong answer. This pussy is mine to touch, mine to lick, mine to fuck. You will not pleasure yourself until you get back.”

She whined a bit but decided to give him this one, for now. She was going to have fun toying with him. Besides she didn’t mind giving him control as long as it was hers to give. Nesta could do whatever the fuck she wanted and he knew that but it wouldn’t hurt to wait, she got off on it a bit if she was being honest.

“Fine.”

“Say it.”

“I won’t touch my…” At his pointed look she corrected herself, “Your pussy.”

“Good girl.”

He stood up, pulling on some clothes before walking to the door. When he opened it Cassian stood there, facing the wall opposite him, not acknowledging his presence. Eris could smell the rage coming off him in waves, making him smirk to himself.

“Were you listening to us? Pervert.” He shook his head, faking disappointment even though that had been the plan. Eris had seen how the Illyrian had looked at his wife during the meeting and on the way back to the Autumn Court even when Nesta hadn’t. He was still not over her and clearly needed to be reminded of his place.

“I’m not, I wasn’t…” He trailed off.

Eris met his gaze, staring at him, not a hint of amusement left on his face. “Look at my wife again like you want to fuck her and I will kill you.” He stepped closer, snarling, “Touch her and die.”

“Nesta doesn’t need you defending her honor.”

“No. No she doesn’t. But as her husband it is my privilege to do so. I will not hesitate to end you regardless of the repercussions. And if my wife wishes to take your life herself I will gladly stand back and watch.” With that, he stormed away.

In her bedroom Nesta climbed into bed, pulling her shirt back on and finally read her book. It was one that she had found in the library and it was surprisingly good. She would have to make note about sending it to Gwyn and Emerie, she had a feeling that both of them would like it as much as she had. Nesta missed them a lot. That was the one downside to living in the Autumn Court, she could no longer see them unless she visited.

By the time she finished the book it was nearing two hours since Eris had left. Not wanting to go to bed yet she got up, put on some pants and walked outside. At the sound of the door opening Cassian sprung up from where he had been sitting.

“Nesta…”

She cut him off. “I don’t feel like listening to anything you have to say at the moment.”

When she tried to walk away he followed. Now annoyed, she whirled around. “You don’t need to follow me like a dog. I can take care of myself just fine.”

He looked like he was about to protest and she commanded him, “Stay here. If you follow me I will gut you.”

Continuing on she barged into Eris’ study to find him tirelessly reading through papers.

“Nesta? What are you doing alone?” He asked, noticing her lack of company.

“I have a dagger, I can defend myself you know.” For some reason she hadn’t told him about her power. Most of the time she ignored it, forgetting it was there. Other times when her emotions heightened it would surge powerfully.

“I’m not saying you can’t. But it’s dangerous for you.” He stood up, walking over to her, “Not only are you my wife but you could potentially be the mother of my children. Children who might one day rule after me.” He held her close and kissed her forehead, “They will use you to get to me, the Illyrian is just a security measure.”

“Are you ready to come to bed?” She said, jerking her chin towards his desk.

He looked behind him with a weary look. “Very much so.” Grabbing her hand he walked with her back to their room. Cassian was still there, standing by the door. They entered the room silently, not saying anything.

Ditching their clothes they crawled into bed and curled up under the blankets, praying for a good night’s sleep. After all, the ball was the next day. They would need to be ready for what was in store.

-------------------

Nesta sat on the bed, putting on her heels, watching Eris get dressed. They had already been delayed a bit after a repeat of last night, multiple times. Now she had other things to consider.

“This ball, everyone there is going to be watching us, watching you.” She mused.

“Yes.”

“Will your mother be coming? I haven’t seen her around since I killed Beron.”

He turned towards her, “She has left the Autumn Court. My father always suspected that she was unfaithful. As it so happens, he was correct.”

“So where is she now?”

He shook his head, “I have no idea. She wouldn’t tell me in case someone found out and used that information against us.”

Nesta stood up, her dress fully visible, every intricate detail on display. She wore a floor length gown, the color of blood, that had long sleeves and a plunging neckline that had the tiniest black diamond at the junction. On each of her wrists, at the very end of the sleeves were even more tiny diamonds. The skirt of her dress had a slit up to her hip that gave a glimpse of creamy skin with every step she took. Her hair was up in a braided updo with gold threaded through it, catching the light.

“You look like a goddess.”

Her power surged through her veins, reminding herself that she was indeed a goddess.

In awe he murmured, “Your eyes.”

Her silver eyes stared back at him. He raised a hand to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing the soft skin. Gazing into her eyes with an expression of reverence.

“They are so beautiful.” He held his palm to hers, letting her power feel his. Cold, icy silver death meeting a blazing golden warmth. They intertwined, visible tendrils of power twisting around their joined hands. The both stared in amazement, pulling away slightly before joining their other two hands, becoming a circuit of power. Feeling each others’ power surging through them, coursing through their veins, was a high they never wanted to come down from. Finally, they did, shaken from their spell when a noise was heard behind the door. People were arriving.

It was almost time to go.

“Are you ready?”

“Almost. Just one last thing.” Eris summoned a box that, upon opening, revealed a crown of woven gold that had formed into leaf details. Tiny black diamonds were encrusted on them, glinting in the candlelight. He held it up above her head, delicately placing it atop her brow. Her beauty could bring him to his knees.

Together they walked to the entrance of the ballroom, Cassian trailing behind. Any stragglers had already been shown in the halls empty. They stood before the main doors, hand in hand.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Yes, you?”

She squeezed his hand, “Born ready.”

Using his powers he pushed open the doors, revealing everybody waiting for their arrival.

In that moment they were no longer Nesta and Eris, they were Lady Death and the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

[velidewrites]

This Ends In Fire

Everything goes wrong when Nesta Archeron crosses the Wall to find her sister. Kidnapped and trapped Under the Mountain, she must now become the very thing she swore to destroy. But there is a light in the darkness—a flicker of a flame, ready to show her a way out. If she’d only let it.

Pairing: Nesta Archeron x Eris Vanserra

Tags: Rated Explicit; Marriage of Convenience; UTM AU

Notes: My humble submission for @sjmromanceweek!

Read the Prologue on AO3 or continue below!

The mercenary had run at the first rustle of wind between the trees, leaving Nesta alone and entirely at the forest’s mercy. She should have recognised the man for the coward that he was, but, as Nesta had recently found out, hope had a rather nasty habit of making its harborer blind to other people’s intentions. The last of the silver she’d brought along for the journey had gone into the hireling’s pockets, unlikely to ever be seen again. Elain was hardly the type to chase after others, not even to protect her own interests, and, well—it wasn’t like Nesta was ever coming back to do it herself, anyway.

It was cold and dark in the forest, remnants of frost still coating some of the treetops despite winter being well and truly over. The icy weather never quite melted into spring, and seemed determined to last into the approaching summer. Perhaps it wasn’t going to leave at all.

Elain was going to be fine. Nesta wouldn’t have left otherwise, though the knowledge hadn’t made her decision any easier. The Nolan boy would not have been Nesta’s first choice by any means—no man ever would be wherever Elain was concerned—but he was the best suitor their village had to offer all the same. He seemed to enjoy Elain’s company, besides, if the hours Nesta had spent chaperoning in their garden were any indication. Nesta herself was more than inclined to leave after an hour, but Greysen Nolan kept on listening as Elain rambled on about the tulip fields far on the Continent. He’d even sworn to bring them back for her from one of his travels.

It was enough for Nesta to venture out to the forest with some peace of mind. They had money now, the source of which Nesta preferred not to ponder over. Their newfound wealth certainly had nothing to do with Father’s efforts, or lack thereof, anyway. Their clothes, their food, their very survival…it had always been Feyre.

And now, Feyre was gone.

The guilt had been eating Nesta alive for months. At first, she’d pretended not to care, and for the first few weeks it worked sufficiently enough for her to drown herself in other tasks. Housework, mostly, hiring the cook and staff and even a governess to catch Elain up on the final years of education she’d missed out on. Some days, Nesta would quietly find her way into the office, a book carefully placed in her lap as she curled up by the fireplace under the pretense of the house being too cold. In truth, she enjoyed the lessons and wanted to learn alongside them, her own education left so far back in the past it almost felt as though it had happened to someone else.

There was a kernel of truth to that—Nesta had thought of her family’s lost wealth every day in that blighted cottage, and yet she still couldn’t help but feel out of place the day it returned. She never remembered it so hollow, so empty and lifeless. Perhaps it had been Feyre, stubborn and wild, who’d made the house come alive. Even before that cottage—it had always been Feyre.

It was then that Nesta decided to go. Hiring a mercenary had been Elain’s idea, and Nesta had known better than to argue. Refusing would’ve only brought her closer to Elain volunteering herself for the journey, and that simply would not do. Here, in the human lands, Elain was safe. As safe as their kind could get, at least.

For all Nesta knew, Feyre was already dead. The thought did little to stop her—her mind was made up, and the mercenary hired and equipped with the finest iron the village smith could have procured. Whether it would be enough to pierce the beast’s thick fur and reach its heart, Nesta did not know. She could only hope.

Even if she knew hope was a weapon of the fools.

She sighed deeply, turning over her shoulder to see if the man’s footprints had dried off enough for her to keep going. At the very least, they would provide a decent path back to the village, where the mercenary was undoubtedly already headed. Should the Wall prove impenetrable after all, Nesta would know how to find her way back.

The man’s heavy panting stopped echoing through the woods when the Wall finally came into sight. Nesta knew better than to call after him; she had simply sent him away with nothing but a withering look and a curse so unbecoming of a lady of her status she only dared to utter it within the comfort of her own mind. Wretched as it was, she hoped some wolf or other predator lurking near the border would find him just in time to teach him a lesson, and, if luck was truly on her side tonight, let him take it straight to his grave. Leaving a woman alone in the woods at night was dishonourable to say the least.

It was what Feyre had done nearly every night, though, Nesta realised, that familiar guilt crashing into her like a wave once more. Ever since Father failed them, her sister would go into the forest to hunt—alone in the darkness.

Perhaps Nesta had failed her just as much.

She approached the Wall with that thought, her steps heavier somehow despite her best efforts to stay unseen. The beast that kidnapped Feyre may as well have been waiting on the other side, its claws already sharpened in anticipation. Nesta couldn’t see the other side—from where she stood, the forest simply seemed to continue well into the endless night. But Nesta knew—could practically taste the metallic tinge of magic on her tongue. It reminded her of blood.

She wondered how Feyre had withstood it—that strange feeling tingling on her skin as she stood inches from the Faerie border. As if she was being watched.

It could’ve all been in her head, Nesta thought, suddenly incredibly aware of just how loudly her heart was thudding in her chest, thrashing against her ribcage in desperation. Maybe once she crossed the Wall, it would abandon the same way the mercenary had.

What now? She’d made it all the way here—in one piece, as little consolation as it was. Nesta had no idea just how the golden beast had managed to drag Feyre to the faerie lands, but she strongly suspected her chances of succeeding were significantly smaller as a human. She had no magic—not even claws to shred that thin, metallic veil separating their worlds to pieces.

Nesta needed to find an opening.

There were cracks in the Wall. It was perhaps the only useful information she’d gotten out of the mercenary before he’d fled. If she could find a crack large enough for her to squeeze through…

She began heading eastward, at least according to Father’s old compass she’d found in one of the office drawers. Once again it wasn’t lost on her just how little the men in Nesta’s life contributed to her fate. Still, she murmured a “thank you” into the sky, hoping it would find Father in whatever corner of the world he’d sailed off to and pass along the message. It wasn’t though she’d ever get a chance to speak to him again.

Nesta was bracing for her own death.

She wasn’t exactly sure why she’d opted to walk East, but there was something about the direction that compelled her forward. The blood tasted different there, less of rust and metal and more of smoke floating above a fire. There was light somewhere out there, guiding her out of that darkness.

Or perhaps she was simply going insane.

The wind whooshed again then, tangling the loose strands of hair that had managed to find their way out of Nesta’s braid, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

It wasn’t the wind that made her halt, though, but a sound rising above the cold breeze. A loud snap—like the crack of a flame.

Slowly, Nesta turned towards the Wall.

But the Wall wasn’t there.

At first, all Nesta could see was the night—the dark sky sprawling over the hills, quiet and starless. The Wall must have been where the forest ended, where the labyrinths of moss and pine finally stretched into one, singular path.

And then, a spark.

A flash of silver that could easily be mistaken for a glittering star had it not disappeared as soon as it arrived. Had it not flickered again, and again, and again, followed by a wide, curved line of others.

Nesta stopped breathing entirely as she watched those sharp, silver teeth stretch into a smile. As wings, large and ancient like withered marble stretched over a pair of horns, over a body so large she could hardly meet its owner’s blood-red gaze.

Nesta knew what the creature was—she had seen it in her book’s illustrations, the same book the governess forbade the sisters from ever touching. The pages are cursed, she had told them. Plagued with the memory of the world we used to live in. A world unprotected by the Wall, a world of magic and monsters and death.

Right now, Death was staring right back at her. Smiling.

“Are you lost, little one?” the Attor asked, its voice like gravelly sand dragging over stone.

Nesta swallowed the fear in her throat—let it burn her voice cords to near ash as she rasped, “I am looking for someone.”

The monster’s smile widened, wings rustling as they moved to embrace her whole. “And she is looking for you.”