#oracle Elain

[offtorivendell]

Elain Archeron Week, Day 1: Visions

I've theorised before about how I think Elain's powers - specifically her Sight, but possibly other aspects of her magic, too - might work, with regards to her murky realm/the Void, the effects of light and even magical medicinals (could witchberries play a part instead of bloodbane?) so today I want to talk a little about why I think having such a useful power could be so meaningful for Elain.

ACOSF suggested that Elain was raised by Mama Archeron to have no independent thought; no dreams of her own, no goals bigger than her garden. She was to be the family's pawn on the marriage mart in their quest for power. Valued for her looks alone, not for what she could do.

Elain is pleasant to look at, her mother had once mused while Nesta sat beside her dressing table, a servant silently brushing her mother’s gold-brown hair, but she has no ambition. She does not dream beyond her garden and pretty clothes. She will be an asset on the marriage market for us one day, if that beauty holds, but it will be our own maneuverings, Nesta, not hers, that win us an advantageous match. Nesta had been twelve at the time. Elain barely eleven. She’d absorbed every word of her mother’s scheming, plans for futures that had never come to pass. - ACOSF, chapter 17

And then Azriel said this...

But Azriel asked softly, taking a single step over the threshold and into the sitting room, “What other?” Elain’s brows twitched toward each other. “The queen—with the feathers of flame.” The shadowsinger angled his head. Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, “Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” - ACOWAR, chapter 32

Besides the fact that Sight must be an incredibly difficult power to navigate at the best of times, I will always wonder how much it meant to Elain to hear she was needed for a skill. Something she could work at and contribute that went beyond the looks she was born with. Something that could - and did - allow her to prove her mother wrong when her own "maneuverings" saved lives at the end of ACOWAR.

Even before Elain understood what was happening, while she was still lost in her murky realm, she tried to use her visions to warn/help her family. One of her biggest contributions being her untrained doe eyes peering across the world, leading Feyre to the Suriel in ACOWAR, then of course everything that followed when she ignored orders to return to camp and ended up killing the King of Hybern and saving Nesta and Cassian, and massively weakening Hybern's army.

Our trembling fawn has a backbone of steel, I can't wait for her to shine and grow in her own book. 🌿

@elainarcheronweek

[violetasteracademic]

Elain Archeron- The Seer

*excerpts from Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow ahead

Worlds and suns and moons and stars. Images swirling and expanding and shrinking.

And standing in the middle of all of it, pulling and shifting visions from different worlds—

Elain.

Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow- A Map to All Galaxies

Read the story here!

This past weekend, Golden Doe passed 15,000 hits on AO3! It felt like a milestone worth celebrating, and since I am on my digital art hobby journey, I wanted to make a spooky mystic Elain Archeron traveling through galaxies in her mind. Maybe it’s a bit cheesy to make fanart for your own fanfic, especially when you aren’t a particularly skilled artist, but these are the simple joys and activities keeping me grounded lately. (Apart from writing A Court of Twisted Fate, of course.)

Thanks to everyone being patient with me as I continue to take a break from scrolling and theory posts on Tumblr! I’m basically just your local Elriel auntie right now dropping by occasionally with gifts and then disappearing 😂

[wingedblooms]

Some tapestry of fate

“Would the Bone Carver make a difference?” And Bryaxis.

The Suriel had no eyelids. But its milky eyes flared with surprise. “I cannot see—not him. He is not…born of this earth. His thread has not been woven in.” (acowar)

The Suriel, a being similar to Elain in unexpected ways (link and link), implied that they could not see the Bone Carver’s impact because he is not born of this earth and it wasn’t woven in. Woven into what, exactly? One of my favorite scenes in the original trilogy has an answer:

My lips tugged toward a smile. But Rhys stared at all of us, somehow assembled here in the sun-drenched open grasses without being given the order. Our family—our court. The Court of Dreams.

They all quieted.

Rhys looked them each in the eye, even my sisters, his hand brushing down the back of my own.

“Do you want the inspiring talk or the bleak one?” He asked.

“We want the real one,” Amren said.

Rhys pushed his shoulders back, elegantly folding his wings behind him. “I believe everything happens for a reason. Whether it is decided by the Mother, or the Cauldron, or some sort of tapestry of Fate, I don’t know. I don’t really care. But I am grateful for it, whatever it is. Grateful that it brought you all into my life. If it hadn’t…I might have become as awful as that prick we’re going to face today.

[…]

And then he said to my sisters, “We have not known each other for long. But I have to believe that you were brought here, into our family, for a reason, too. And maybe today we’ll find out why.”

He surveyed them all again—and held out his hand to Cassian. Cassian took it, and held out his other for Mor. Then Mor extended her other to Azriel. Azriel to Amren. Amren to Nesta. Nesta to Elain. And Elain to me. Until we were all linked, all bound together.

Rhys said, “We will walk onto that field and only accept Death when it comes to haul us away to the Otherworld. We will fight for life, for survival, for our futures. But if it is decided by that tapestry of Fate or the Cauldron or the Mother that we do not walk off that field today…” His chin lifted. “The great joy and honor of my life has been to know you. To call you my family. And I am grateful—more than I can possibly say—that I was given this time with you all.” (acowar)

This scene still gives me all the feels and it is still so very relevant to the overarching plot. I’ll explain why.

Rhys references a tapestry of Fate (alongside the Mother and Cauldron, naturally; there’s evidence it’s all part of the the same vast source. The witches in tog also refer to this as the Mother’s loom).

He also acknowledges each member of the Court of Dreams—a court dedicated to fighting for life, for survival, for their futures—before he binds them together through their hands, a mirror of their fates woven together in that grand tapestry. 🥹

Woven together, they create 8 points.

What else is connected by 8 points?

The Harp sat atop a large rendering of an eight-pointed star. Its cardinal points stretched longer than the other four, with the Harp situated directly in the heart of the star.

The hair on the back of her neck stood. She could have sworn the blood in her body reversed course.

She had the creeping feeling she’d been brought here.

Not by the Cauldron or the Mother or the Harp. By something vaster. Something that stretched into the stars carved all around them. (acosf)

The eight-pointed star. A symbol of the Starborn. Something both @offtorivendell and I have theorized means something more and is connected to Wyrd. In the Dusk Court, it is depicted as a compass rose and the Harp rests in its heart (or the space between where all those points meet).

The Harp makes perfect sense there. When the right strings are plucked, it can manipulate time and space, even move power from one place to another. These strings seem to mimic the ley lines in Wyrd’s grand tapestry, which move magic and communication across great distances. And the vast force that brought Nesta to that symbol and object—which are linked to Wyrd’s magic, especially since one of them was Made in the Cauldron—is Wyrd. She is a force that governs all life and winds between worlds.

I’ve suggested before that Elain might have access to Wyrd’s secret language (the language of the universe, of creation) and linked it to her tapestry and ley lines in one of my absolute favorite metas. It makes even more sense why Elain and the Harp would echo one another, if their magic is connected to Wyrd’s tapestry and ley lines in particular.

In hofas, we learn the Asteri knew how to bend this tapestry—the fabric of worlds—through ley lines. They used this knowledge to conquer worlds and amplify their own magic when needed, pooling massive amounts of raw power, or firstlight, in the land where these lines met.

“We grew too populous. Wars broke out between the various beings on our world. Some of us saw the changes in the land beginning—rivers run dry, clouds so thick the sun could not pierce them—and left. Our brightest minds found ways to bend the fabric of worlds. To travel between them. Wayfarers, we called them. World-walkers.”

[…]

Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.”

“There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly.

“Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.”

[…]

“There are certain places, girl, that are better suited to hold power than others. Places where the veil between worlds is thin, and magic naturally abounds. Our light thrives in such environments, sustained by the regenerative magic of the land.” She gestured around them. “This island is a thin place—the mists around it declare it so.”

[…]

“Every world has at least one thin place,” Vesperus drawled. “And there are always certain people more suited to exploit it—to claim its powers, to travel through them to other worlds.” (Vesperus speaking to Bryce, Azriel, and Nesta; hofas)

-

“No,” Aidas agreed. “But Helena knew that Midgard possessed its own magic. A raw, weaker sort of magic than that in her home world, but one that could be potent in high concentrations. She learned that it flowed across the world in great highways, natural conduits for magic.”

“Ley lines,” Bryce breathed.

Aidas nodded. “These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop. “There are ley lines across the whole of the universe. And the planets—like Midgard, like Hel, like the home world of the Fae—atop those lines are joined by time and space and the Void itself. It thins the veils separating us. The Asteri have long chosen worlds that are on the ley lines for that exact purpose. It made it easier to move between them, to colonize those planets. There are certain places on each of these worlds where the most ley lines overlap, and thus the barrier between worlds is at its weakest.” Everything slotted together. “Thin places,” Bryce said with sudden certainty. (Bryce speaking to the Princes of Hel, hofas)

In blooming dreams, I mentioned the curious terms Bryce uses to discuss the secrets that were left behind in the land:

“No,” Bryce said quietly. “We’re exactly where we need to be.” She pointed to the floor, the carving of rivers of stars winding throughout. “And this place wasn’t built by Pelias. He had nothing to do with these tunnels, the carvings.” She laid a hand on the floor. Her starlight flowed through the carvings in the stone, the walls, the ceiling—

What had looked like etched seas or rivers of stars now filled in with starlight, became…alive. Moving, cascading, coursing. A secret illustration, only for those with the gifts and vision to see it.

The rippling river of starlight flowed right to the sarcophagus in the center of the chamber. Swirled around it like an eddy.

Bryce threw herself against the coffin, legs straining as she pushed—

And the sarcophagus slid away. Revealing a small, secret staircase beneath. (hofas)

Secrets were left behind for those with the gifts and vision to see. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it a thousand times more: this screams Elain to me. I’ve theorized that she was given gifts and vision from Wyrd to unravel the Asteri’s remaining secrets buried in the land. And it is interesting how this illustration of flowing magic on Avallen, magic that Bryce followed to uncover a hidden chamber, mirrors how Elain’s is described in acosf:

Her sister’s delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring, a sparkling river that she followed to the open doors of the chamber. Elain stood at the wall of windows, clad in a lilac gown whose close-fitting bodice showed how well her sister had filled out since those initial days in the Night Court. Gone were the sharp angles, replaced by softness and elegant curves. (acosf)

It wouldn’t surprise me if Elain’s words to her family in acosf were, in fact, prophetic (and not just iconic): find me when you wish to begin. Based on the events in hofas, the IC will likely require the third sister’s gifts and vision to find a true beginning untethered from the Asteri. The more I think about the Asteri’s influence on Prythian—from the rotted peaks to the rigid division of magic to the objects they weaponized—the more I am convinced Wyrd’s tapestry wasn’t meant to be controlled this way, especially not in the name of violence toward her creation.

I’m not the only one who believes Elain’s magic is linked to this grand tapestry, particularly the ley lines and thin places that overlap within it. @merymoonbeam recently discussed Elain’s sight, ley lines, and thin places; she theorized that the Cauldron itself may be a thin place. @offtorivendell also theorized that Elain’s sight is connected to weaving and the Cauldron and Ouroboros are portals associated with thin places in her meta on the Chaos star. The Cauldron, Ouroboros, and Trove are all connected to Wyrd; they were Made to harness her magic (or exploit, claim - as Vesperus said, which explains how they utterly destroyed their own world). Thin places are parts of the tapestry that connect beings and worlds through overlapping ley lines. It’s where Void and Chaos meet. Certain symbols reflect this balance, like the Starborn star.

These places of balance, where opposing forces meet and merge in the tapestry, is also repeatedly reflected in those who are farseeing, like Wyrd, and in symbols that represent her across worlds, as @merymoonbeam and I have theorized.

Elain’s murky realm and unfocused eyes;

the milky eyes of the Suriel;

the murky darkness in the Oracle’s chamber;

the cloudy water in mystic tubs;

the smoky water of the Cauldron;

the murky darkness in the Night Court’s library;

the smoking black altar in Wyrd’s temple;

the breathing, bottomless pit of Chaos in Hel.

In other words, as @merymoonbeam pointed out, they reflect thin places in Wyrd’s grand tapestry. Sarah also includes subtle references to this tapestry through words like entwined, weaving, veil, and…braid:

Seer. The word clanged through me. She’d known. She’d warned Nesta about the Ravens. And in the chaos of the attack, that little realization had slipped from me. Slipped from me as reality and dream slipped and entwined for Elain. Seer. (a description of Elain’s sight, acomaf)

-

The smoke parted, and he sucked in a breath at the being that emerged. Sphinxes were rare—only a few dozen walked the earth, and all of them had been called to the service of the gods. No one knew how old they were, and this one before him … She was so beautiful he forgot what to do with his body. The golden lioness’s form moved with fluid grace, pacing the other side of the hole, weaving in and out of the mist. (a description of the oracle, hoeab)

-

A withered humanoid form, veiled and dressed in gray robes, the material gauzy enough to reveal the bony body beneath, stood at the massive desk at the entrance of the room. The Mistress of the Mystics. If she had a name, Lidia had never heard it uttered. (a description of the Mistress of the Mystics, hofas)

-

It was like a braid, the song—a plait of seven voices, weaving in and out, individual strands that together formed a pattern. (a description of the priestesses’ service honoring Wyrd, acosf)

These references ultimately bring us back to where this meta began: the Suriel. Their sight was limited to the beings woven into the tapestry of their specific world. But what about Elain’s sight? Without any training whatsoever, she was able to see Koschei, his prisoners, his lake, and an onyx box that was important to him. Koschei, like the Bone Carver, was not born of this world. She might not be able to see all of the threads of his story yet, but maybe it’s a matter of finding the right combinations—threads, or ley lines, in the tapestry—to locate the information she needs. Or a matter of securing the right help. If she can learn how to use the threads in Wyrd’s tapestry, it might be possible for her to learn the Asteri’s secrets, who are also not born of this earth, and unravel the threads that bind their land.

I believe Nesta’s comment about Elain training in acosf with her friends and Azriel was a very big hint: she did not wait for her family to begin. She is probably already exploring her gifts and vision with friends, Azriel, or even the priestesses who worship Wyrd and seem to possess their own methods for piercing the veil like subterranean mystics.

We’ve already seen her friends (and Azriel) bend the fabric of the world to vanish and move through it unseen. Cerridwen and Nuala even created their own dark tapestry, another reflection of the grander one governed by Wyrd, in acotar:

Nails clicked on stone, and my escorts swapped glances before they swung me into an alcove, a tapestry that hadn’t been there a moment before falling over us, the shadows deepening, solidifying. I had a feeling that if someone pulled back that tapestry, they would see only darkness and stone. (acotar)

What if, like so many have suggested (@silverlinedeyes, @merymoonbeam, @offtorivendell, myself and more), that is why Elain was drawn out of the House to learn about the weaver’s tapestry with Feyre? Was Elain so curious about it because she’s seen something similar in her mind, or watched her friends create a void with their magic? Could they help Elain master Void so she can weave Hope?

If this is the direction Sarah goes, I can see Elain claiming the forbidden magic of Wyrd not for violence or power, but for life. To fight for her own future, and the futures of her friends and family, like her sisters before her. Maybe she already has at least once before and we’re about to see it on a far grander scale in her book.

[adhd-winterfalcon]

honestly don’t have a set opinion on this but i wanna know what y’all think

reasons why each should be able to:

harley - the joker manipulated her into an abusive relationship and literally made her a villain

babs - was shot and paralyzed by the joker

jason - was beaten and killed/blown up by the joker

duke - his mom and step-dad were permanently mentally damaged from the joker releasing joker venom (mind-control gas) onto them

*edit: i did not know about bao pham until rn but he definitely also deserves to

[gwyns]

why are e|riel’s trying to say that elain is an oracle from the cc world when it’s already been stated that she is a seer??

idk because while similar, seers and oracles are different... but i know words and their definitions are like the bogeyman to e/riels so i'll do the work for them!

from my understanding this means that elain would have a much better grasp on her visions than an oracle. why are they trying to nerf her?? 😭

anyway my best guess is because cc has set up quite a bit for future acotar plots that seemingly won't revolve around elain so they have to try and shoehorn her in somehow!

[primulagoldworthy]

Carranam

Day Court (Just google Seers in ancient Greece)

- I also noticed that Seers were called Mantis. Could Koschei be the third Valg King Mantyx that was only mentioned in ToG but didn't make an appearance? He could manipulate and control shadows, just like Koschei.

Elain and Lucien - Visions

I fully believe Lucien will help Elain with her visions. Lucien, as we know, is suspected to be Helion's son. Well, here is a list of Helion's powers:

What's interesting is the clairvoyant-telepathy. What is that? Let's look at the definition of it:

Whose to say Lucien doesn't have more powers than we know? We know his eye sees through spells and glamours. But could it be part of his own powers at work, too? Could he have gotten some clairvoyant-telepathy from Helion?

And if so, could he help Elain with her visions? We know Elain needs to get reaquantied with her powers as of ACOSF. Coincidentally, Lucien isn't spending a lot of time around Elain, but he was in ACOWAR when Elain WAS getting visions more frequently. With that being said, could being near Lucien trigger Elain's visions?

Another thought(s) to ponder:

Could Lucien touch Elain and see what she sees? Could he then help her navigate said visions to see more clearly? Because Elain doesn't always see the full visions and Lucien could probably help provide more clear sight to them.

Could they also communicate somewhat like Feysand if Lucien has this type of power? 🤔

I fully believe their journey will take them to Day Court in which we will explore BOTH of their powers more and gain information on their quest to helping in defeating Korschei.

I think we are in for a wild ride with these two.

What do you think?

[cryptotheism]

Jerry suspects the oracle might be flirting with him. Elaine attempts to break up with a chariot racer by joining the vestal virgins. Kramer makes raunchy pottery. George refuses to believe that he has been cursed.

[cressidagrey]

The Witching Hour - Chapter 5 - Rhysand

Summary: 

5 Times members of the Inner Circle get absolutely terrified by Azriel's...whatever she is, and 1 (of many) times Azriel thinks that his witch was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Warnings: 

Mention of Amarantha, Mention of Murder, Mention of torture, Rhys Bashing

(super pretty dividers by @cafekitsune)

Rhysand's mood was far from pleasant. The events of the past week had left him on edge, his patience sorely tested, the tensions between Nesta and Cassian seemed to have escalated exponentially, and the atmosphere in his Court was becoming unbearable.

As he sat brooding in his office, his mate knocked on the doorframe before walking in. Feyre took one look at his stormy expression and winced.

"Let me guess," she said, bracing herself. "You're in a delightful mood today."

Rhysand's only response was a low growl, which was answer enough. Feyre sighed, settling herself into a chair across from his desk.

"There's something you are going to like even less," Feyre admitted.

Rhysand's eyes narrowed, his already bad mood worsening. "Wonderful," he grumbled, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "Please, do tell, Feyre Darling.  I'm all ears."

Feyre looked uncomfortable, which only served to increase Rhysand's anxiety. Whatever it was, it must be bad if even Feyre was struggling to tell him.

"It's about Elain," she began, her voice hesitant.

"Elain?" Rhysand repeated, his confusion deepening. "What about her? What's wrong?"

"She..." Feyre's voice trails off, her expression troubled. "She's an oracle."

Rhysand's eyebrows shot up in shock, his eyes widening.

"An oracle?" he repeated, his voice coming out in a whisper. "Are you sure? Who made that particular call?"

Feyre swallowed hard, her expression guilty. "Cate," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rhys froze.

"Feyre darling," he said very carefully, trying to keep his voice down. "When exactly did you come across Cate ?"

Feyre shifted uncomfortably in her seat, avoiding his gaze.

"Well...this morning."

Rhys's eyes widened, a sense of bad, bad foreboding washing over him. "And what exactly were you doing this morning that led to you encountering the infamous Cate?"

"We had lunch?" Feyre admitted questioningly. "Or we would have if Mor and her hadn't clashed."

Rhys let out a strangled sigh, raking a hand through his hair. "Of course, you did."

He took a moment to process the information, his mind racing through the implications. Cate, in the city...it was bound to cause havoc.

"And I assume Mor and she...had words?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"To put it mildly," Feyre said ruefully. "They got into quite a heated argument. It almost ended in a brawl."

Rhysand pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "Do I even want to know what they were arguing about?"

Feyre shrugged, her expression sheepish. "Cate's sex life and Azriel."

Rhysand suppressed the urge to bang his head against the desk. "Of course," he muttered under his breath.

He let out a deep, weary sigh, his mind already working to figure out how to damage control this situation. Cate's presence was a wild card, and her interactions with Mor were bound to cause more trouble than they were worth.

"What about Elain then?" he asked, forcing his voice to remain calm.

"Cate offered to teach her."

"Did she now," Rhys murmured, the wheels in his mind turning.

The idea of Cate teaching Elain was...disconcerting, to say the least. Cate was not exactly a bastion of stability and sanity. And yet, there was a part of him that was intrigued.

And also fucking furious because clearly, he was the last person in his family that knew anything about what was happening in his court.

Rhys's anger bubbled up inside him, mingling with his already frayed nerves. He had been completely blindsided by this information, left in the dark while Cate and Mor were engaging in their verbal duels and Feyre was having lunch with the bane of his existence .

It was utterly frustrating.

"Did Azriel get her for Elain?" He bit out. Azriel clearly wasn't listening to his orders when he was bringing Cate around for Elain. Thought Rhys wondered what the fuck Azriel had told Cate to get her to behave and not spill the beans of their century-long tryst to Elain.

Feyre looked at him curiously, clearly sensing his irritation.

"What do you mean?"

Rhys clenched his jaw, trying to keep his voice level. "Cate doesn't just agree to help people on a whim," he said tersely. "Azriel must have done something to convince her."

Feyre's eyes widened in realisation, a hint of amusement flickering across her face.

"And it must have involved a lot of ...physical persuasion," Feyre said slyly, a wicked smile spreading across her lips.

Rhys could only scowl in response, his irritation growing by the second. The last thing he needed was Feyre making light of the situation.

"This isn't funny," he growled, leaning forward in his chair. "Azriel knows better than to bring Cate here without my knowledge."

Feyre's expression softened, her amusement giving way to understanding. "I know," she said soothingly, "But she isn't all that bad, you know. If you'd just give her a chance-"

"A chance?" Rhys repeated, his voice filled with barely suppressed frustration. "Feyre, she is a walking disaster ! She causes nothing but trouble, and now she's inserting herself into the lives of my Inner Circle! You know what happens to the people that surround Cate? They mysteriously disappear. Or worse!”

Feyre shot him an unimpressed look, her hands on her hips. "You're being overdramatic," she chided.

"Hecate the Undying," Rhys said lowly. " How do you think she earned that name, Feure?"

Feyre's expression faltered, the teasing look in her eyes replaced by a hint of unease. "!.... don't know," she admitted, her voice quieter now.

Rhys took a deep breath, reminding himself to remain calm. "Hecate is a witch,” he said slowly. “One of the few of that particular dying breed. She’s over a millennia old, Feyre. And she has the cunning and cruelty to match her age. She is not someone to be trifled with."

"So has Amren," Feyre pointed out harshly.

Rhysand's eyes blazed. "Amren is a different case entirely, and you know it," he said through gritted teeth. "She has been on our side for centuries, working to protect this court and everyone in it. Cate...Cate is a rogue element. No one knows where her loyalties lie. Not even Azriel, for all his obsession with her."

"And Azriel," Rhys continued, his voice lowering. "He thinks he can control her, that he knows the limits of her power and her intentions. But he's fooling himself. She is unpredictable, volatile, and dangerous. The last thing we need is for her to cause chaos in our court."

Feyre opened her mouth to speak, but Rhys cut her off.

"And don't try to tell me that she just wants to help Elain," he said, his voice firm. "Nothing she does is without purpose. There is always an angle, an agenda. And I don't trust her, not one bit."

Feyre was quiet for a moment, her expression thoughtful.

"I understand your concern, I do," she said slowly. "But have you ever stopped to consider that Cate might not be the monster you have built her up to be in your mind? That maybe there's more to her than meets the eye?"

Rhys laughed bitterly, his anger still bubbling just under the surface. "More to her than meets the eye?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What do you want me to believe, Feyre? That she's some sort of misunderstood soul, with a heart of gold under that cold, unfeeling exterior?"

"I'm not saying she's a saint," Feyre said evenly. "But maybe she's not the villain you're determined to make her out to be."

Rhys gritted his teeth, his patience wearing thin. "And what would you have me do, Feyre?" he said tightly. "Just sit back and let her run wild in my court, unchecked and uncontrolled? Is that what you're suggesting?"

"No," Feyre said, "Of course not. But maybe instead of treating her like a threat, you could try seeing her as an ally. As someone who could potentially help us."

Rhys let out a guttural sound, his frustration mounting.

"You can't be serious. You want me to trust her, to let her into our inner circle? She hasn't given me one reason to trust her, Feyre. Not one."

"She helped Nesta with her nightmares."

Rhysand's eyebrow quirked in surprise. "Is that so?" he said slowly. "She helped Nesta with her nightmares, did she?"

His tone was sceptical, but there was a hint of intrigue in his expression.

"With a dreamcatcher spell," Feyre answered quietly.

"Is that why Cassian is so furious with Azriel?" Rhys asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was just getting better and better.

"Oh yes," Feyre said with a slight wince. "Cassian is quite...upset about it."

Rhys's eyes widened. "Upset" was an understatement. He knew Cassian well enough to know that he would be seething with rage at this news.

Rhys closed his eyes. Already Cate was making a mess.

The thought made Rhysand's headache worse. Cate had only been in Velaris for days, and already she was causing ripples of turmoil in his court. How much worse was this going to get?

He had to nip this problem in the bud before it spiralled out of control.

The worst thing was that throwing her out of Velaris was not actually something he could do. She had a carte Blanche to live in Velaris, something he could thank his Grandfather for... they had had an agreement of sorts, the exact nature lost to time. But even Rhys’ own father hadn’t trifled with that witch. 

He rose from his chair, his expression steely with determination. "I need to talk to Cate," he said gruffly. "Now."

Feyre's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Now?" she repeated, looking nervous. "Don't you think you should calm down a bit first? You look like you're going to rip her throat out."

Rhys shot her a withering glare, his patience wearing thin.

"That's exactly how I feel, Feyre," he ground out. "If I don't speak to her now, I can't guarantee I won't do anything I'll regret later."

Feyre held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, fine," she conceded, standing up. "But try not to be too harsh, alright? I'm not saying we should trust her blindly. But she's not a monster, Rhys."

He could argue that point

Rhys took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.  The thought of dealing with Cate again after all these centuries was not exactly appealing.

The problem was only that he knew...he knew that they would be evenly matched

And that thought was worrying. Cate was not someone he took lightly. He had seen firsthand what she was capable of, both in power and cunning. The idea of going up against her, even if it was just a simple conversation, was daunting, to say the least.

Yet, he knew it was necessary. He couldn't let Cate continue to run rampant in his court, stirring up trouble and disrupting the peace he had worked so hard to maintain. He would just have to be careful, be on guard at all times, and hope that his own wits would be enough to keep her in check.

With a determined nod to Feyre, he headed out of his office. It was time to confront the source of his current headache.

Rhysand stalked out of the house and into the streets of Velaris with a scowl on his face. It was late afternoon, and the sun starting to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the cobblestones.

He knew where to find Cate. She had a townhouse, where she always stayed at.

He made his way quickly through the city, his steps measured and purposeful. He could feel the eyes of his people on him, the weight of their curiosity and concern. They could sense that something was off, that their High Lord was not in his usual good mood.

Finally, he arrived at her townhouse. The building was impressive, situated in a prime location and beautifully maintained. It screamed opulence and power, much like its owner.

Rhys took a deep breath and walked up the steps, his mind racing. He knew he needed to be careful, to tread lightly. He couldn't afford to let his anger get the better of him. But the thought of confronting Cate was making his heart pound in his chest. He had to remind himself that he was the High Lord of the Night Court, the most powerful ruler in Prythian. He could handle one stubborn and infuriating witch.

(Hopefully.)

He knocked firmly on the door, his knuckles rapping against the solid wood. There was no response for a moment, and he wondered if she was even home. Just as he was about to knock again, the door swung open, revealing Cate's slender form in the doorway.

"Ah, Rhysand," she said with a smirk, leaning against the doorframe. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Her tone was casual, almost flippant, but he could see the glittering eyes assessing him warily. She knew he wasn't here for a friendly visit.

"May I come in?" he asked through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice even.

Cate stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter with a sweeping motion of her arm. "By all means," she drawled. "Make yourself at home."

Rhys walked into the foyer, his eyes flickering around the room, taking in the expensive furnishings and art pieces.

The townhouse was every bit as opulent as the outside, with high ceilings and wide windows that let in the fading sunlight.

"Can I offer you anything?" Cate asked behind him, closing the door with a click. "Tea, perhaps? Or maybe something stronger?"

He ignored her, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face her. "I'm not here for hospitality," he ground out. "I'm here to discuss you and your sudden appearance in my court."

Cate raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, so you're not here to see an old friend?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

He clenched his jaw, her casual demeanour only serving to annoy him further. "We are not friends, Cate," he said through gritted teeth. "And I need to know why you have been meddling in my affairs."

Cate sauntered past him, walking over to a nearby armchair and gracefully sinking into it. "You wound me, Rhysand," she said, placing a hand over her heart. "I'm hurt that you think I would meddle."

He followed her, standing before her with his arms crossed. "Cut the crap, Cate," he said, his temper fraying. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You've been causing trouble since the moment you stepped foot in Velaris."

"Is it the Dreamcatcher spell or my offer of lessons for Elain?" Cate asked him.

Rhys scowled, the mere mention of the Dreamcatcher spell making his blood boil. "Both," he said through gritted teeth. "You have absolutely no business getting involved in my court's affairs."

Cate leaned back in her chair, a smirk playing on her lips once more. "Oh, but Rhysand, I just want to help. Is that so terrible?"

He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to grab her by the throat and strangle her. "I don't trust you, Cate," he growled. "I don't trust your intentions or your motives. And I certainly don't trust you offering your...services to my inner circle. Let's not even start with my spymaster," he ground out.

Cate chuckled, her voice dripping with amusement. "Ah, Azriel," she said, her eyes glinting. "Such a complex and intriguing male."

"You stay away from him," Rhys warned, his voice low and dangerous. "You keep your distance, and you keep your fingers out of our business."

Cate's smirk widened. "Oh, I was under the impression that Azriel was just as interested in me as I was in him," she said slyly. "Or was I misinformed?"

Rhys ground his teeth, his irritation and anger reaching their boiling point. He knew all too well the strange and complicated relationship between Cate and Azriel, and he hated how easily she seemed able to get under his skin.

"You know exactly what I mean," he said, his voice growing louder. "You keep your distance from all of my court. That includes Azriel."

Cate's smile grew even more aggravating. "You have quite the possessive streak, don't you, Rhysand?" she said, her tone mocking. "Are you afraid I'll steal away your precious shadowsinger?"

"You won't lay a finger on him," he snarled, his patience completely frayed. "You stay away from him, and you stay away from my court. I don't want you meddling in my affairs, or causing any more trouble. Is that clear?"

Cate leaned forward in her chair, her eyes narrowing. "You think you can order me around, is that it?" she said, her voice cold. "You think I'll just bow down and submit to your commands?"

"Damn right I do," he shot back, stepping closer to her. "This is my court, my territory. And I will not tolerate someone like you causing chaos and throwing my people into disarray with your presence."

Cate's eyes flared with anger. "And what exactly do you mean by 'someone like me'?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You mean a witch? Or is it because I'm a woman?"

He clenched his jaw, the accusation hitting a nerve. "Don't play that card, Cate," he said through gritted teeth. "You know damn well that's not what I meant."

Cate stood up, her eyes blazing. "Oh, really?" she challenged, her hands coming to rest on her hips. "Because it sure sounds like you're implying that women, especially those with magic, are beneath you. Maybe even a threat to your precious little court. Is that why your tradition of wing clipping still lives on?" She asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

He flinched, his irritation replaced with a hint of guilt. She had hit the mark, and they both knew it. The ancient tradition of clipping wings was still practised in Illyria, a symbol of dominance and control over the female population.

"That's different," he said gruffly, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that settled in his stomach. "Change is slow. We can't just murder everybody like you are prone to be doing." 

Cate's eyes flashed with anger, her hands clenching into fists. "I don't just go around murdering people," she snapped. "I fight for what's right, and I don't shy away from getting my hands dirty if it means protecting those that cannot protect themselves."

Rhys sneered, his own anger flaring. "And who are you to decide what is right and what is wrong?" he said, his voice harsh. "You think you're some kind of moral authority, do you? That your way of doing things is the only way?"

"You're a daemati, I am a seer," she said icily. "You read minds. I read the future."

He let out a scoff, his annoyance growing by the second.

"And you think that gives you the right to do whatever you please, just because you can see into the future?" he said, his tone dripping with disbelief.

Cate's eyes narrowed to slits, her voice dropping to a dangerous level. "I use my abilities to help people. To protect them. To make sure that history doesn't repeat itself. And if that means making hard decisions, then so be it."

He let out a cold laugh. "Hard decisions," he said sarcastically. "Is that what you call it when you go around murdering people and meddling in other courts' affairs?"

Cate bristled at the accusation, her face contorting with anger. "I don't go around murdering people for the hell of it," she said, her voice rising. "Every life I've taken has been for a reason, a purpose. People who deserved it, who would have caused more suffering and pain if left unchecked."

Rhys shook his head, his annoyance and frustration mounting. "Oh, so you're some kind of judge and executioner now?" he sneered. "You get to decide who lives and who dies based on your own twisted sense of justice?"

"Yes, because apparently nobody else seems to have the guts to do what needs to be done." Cate retorted, her voice filled with conviction. "You have no idea what I've seen, Rhysand. I have a job to do, and it doesn't end until the world is a better place. So please, drop the holier-than-thou attitude and leave me alone."

"You didn't kill Amarantha," Rhys spat out. "That would have saved us some suffering."

Cate's eyes darkened at his words, anger flashing in her gaze. "Don't you think I wanted to, Rhysand?" she said, her voice low and dangerous. "Don't you think I've spent centuries reliving that moment in my mind, wondering if I could have stopped it from happening?"

He crossed his arms, his expression guarded. "Why didn't you then?" he challenged. "You could have ended it all right there, before all the suffering and the pain and the bloodshed."

Cate's shoulders slumped, the anger being replaced by a weariness that betrayed her centuries-long existence.

"It's...complicated, Rhysand. There are things at play that you don't understand, consequences that you could never fathom. I couldn't just kill Amarantha and expect everything to be perfectly fine afterwards."

He let out a scoff, his irritation mounting. "So, what, you just decided to let her rule and terrorize my court for 50 years instead? To put us through hell and back?"

Cate's eyes narrowed once more, her voice tight with suppressed emotion. "I had a duty to protect the people of Prythian," she said through clenched teeth. "All of Prythian. And sometimes, that meant making sacrifices for the greater good. Even if it meant letting evil exist for a little while longer."

He let out a derisive laugh, his anger bubbling to the surface. "The greater good? What about the good of my people? My court? My family, my friends, my people, all tortured and brutalized for fifty years because you decided to let Amarantha sit on the throne?"

Cate's face contorted with pain, his words hitting a raw nerve. "You think that was an easy decision for me to make, Rhysand?" she said, her voice cracking. "You think I enjoyed watching you and your people suffer, knowing I could have stopped it all in an instant?"

He sneered, his anger still searing. "Yet you didn't. You stood by and let it happen. You let us suffer for fifty years because you were too much of a coward to do what needed to be done."

Cate's hands balled into fists, her eyes narrowing. "You have no idea what it means to be responsible for fate, Rhysand," she said through clenched teeth. "No idea what it means to carry the weight of history on your shoulders. Don't you dare accuse me of cowardice when you don't have a single clue about the sacrifices I've made?"

He clenched his jaw, fighting back the urge to lash out even further. "Fifty years, Cate. Fifty years. My people suffered unspeakable horrors for fifty years because you decided that it was for the greater good. How do you expect me to forgive that?"

She let out a bark of bitter laughter, her face twisting into a grimace. "Forgiveness?" she said, her voice thick with disdain. "You really think I'm looking for forgiveness, after everything that's happened? I'm not asking for any forgiveness, Rhysand. I know the mistakes I've made, and I have to live with them every damn day."

He let out a scoff, his anger now mixed with a hint of incredulity. "You expect me to just act like nothing's happened? To just let bygones be bygones and move on like you didn't stand idly by while my people suffered?"

"I don't expect anything from you, Rhysand," she said coldly, her eyes hardening. "I know things can never go back to the way they used to be, that there's no erasing what's been done. But that doesn't mean I'm not doing everything in my power to make things right, to prevent it from happening again. That's all I've ever tried to do."

He let out a dry laugh, his heart still thudding with anger.

"Oh? And what exactly are you doing to make things right, hm? Meddling in my court, offering lessons to my inner circle, causing chaos and trouble wherever you go?"

Cate's eyes flared, her temper rising once more. "I'm not causing chaos and trouble, Rhysand," she shot back. "I've been helping you and your court in ways you don't even realize. Maybe if you took the time to look past your own anger and pride, you'd see that."

He let out a derisive scoff, his irritation growing with every word. "Help? You call meddling in our affairs and offering your so-called 'services' help? I'd hate to see what your version of hindrance is like. I want you out of my court," he hissed.

Cate scoffed, glaring at him with equal measure of anger and frustration. “ As long as my blood rules this throne, you shall always have a place here, ” she quoted at him, hissing. “Your grandfather pledged that to me. Just let me know when exactly you want to make your family an oathbreaker.” 

He had known that she had…had permission to come and go from Velaris as she pleased, but he had not known, how pointed these words must have been. What his grandfather had pledged to her in…

“I’ll take that risk if you are gone for good,” he growled, his own anger bubbling to the surface. "One word from me, and you'll be gone from this court for good."

His magic thickened, night rising.

Cate braced herself, her own power crackling around her in response. "You think threatening me with your magic will make me cower and leave?" she challenged. "I've faced much worse than you, Rhysand."

His eyes narrowed, the darkness in the room growing thicker as his power surged. "You have no idea what I'm capable of," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "| won't hesitate to do what I have to to protect my court, even if it means using every ounce of my power to remove you from it. And do not touch my brother," he hissed.

Cate's eyes flared with anger, her own power flaring in response. "You think I would do anything to harm your brother?" she snapped. "Your arrogance is astounding. I'm not a monster, Rhysand. I wasn't the one who treated him like he wasn't even a person," she hissed at him.

He flinched, a brief flash of guilt passing over his face before he could mask it. "Don't you dare bring him into this," he said through clenched teeth, his anger flaring again.

"You started it," she ground back. "You treated him like he doesn't have feelings. You told him to go to a pleasure hall, Rhysand."

Rhys's jaw worked, his anger and defensiveness mixing with a hint of shame. "You don't understand," he said, his voice strained. "It was for his own good."

She snorted.

Rhys clenched his jaw, bristling at her reaction. "What is that supposed to mean?" he snapped.

"It means that I find your excuses pathetic," she shot back, her eyes narrowed. "You claim to care about him, yet you treat him like he's less than nothing. You tell him to go to a pleasure hall, to lose himself in mindless pleasure instead of facing his own emotions. It's repulsive."

Rhys flinched again, her words hitting a nerve. "It's not that simple," he said, his voice low and defensive. "You don't know what he's been through, what he had to endure."

Cate scoffed, her eyes flashing with anger. "Oh, I don't?" she said, her voice tight with emotion. "I don't know what he's been through? I know him, Rhysand. Don't you dare tell me l don't understand." 

"You think you understand him just because you have shared his bed a few times?" he shot back, his own anger flaring again. "You think you know him better than I do, better than his family and his friends?" 

Her magic flared. He had been unprepared for the cold fury on her face.

Rhys took an involuntary step back, startled by the intensity of her magic and the anger etched on her face. He was so used to being in control, to being the one everyone feared, but for the first time, he felt a hint of trepidation.

"You come to my house and threaten me, insult me and my relationship, insult Azriel..."

Rhys opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

Her words had caught him off guard, and for once, he was at a loss for words.

Her magic heaved, cracking.

Rhys watched her with a mix of awe and caution. He could feel the power in her, the cold, sharp edge of her magic that crackled through the air like lightning. He had never seen her so angry, so intense.

"You have no right to speak to me like that, no right to dictate who I sleep with or who I care about," she hissed, her voice dripping with anger. "Azriel is not your property, Rhysand, and I will not tolerate you treating him or me like we are lesser than you."

Rhys clenched his fists, his own anger and defensiveness flaring again. "You think I treat you as lesser?" he said, his voice tight. "I'm the High Lord of this court. You're a guest here. You don't get to come here and tell me what I can and cannot do."

Her magic exploded.

Rhys was caught off guard by the sudden explosion of her magic, the force of it knocking him back a step. He barely managed to keep his balance, his own magic reacting defensively in response, a shield forming around him instinctively.

He stared at her, his eyes widening with surprise and a hint of fear. He had seen the extent of her magic before, but never had he seen her lose control like this. Never had he seen her so unbridled and raw.

The air around her crackled with energy, charged with the cold, sharp power of her magic. It was a force to be reckoned with, a storm of anger and frustration. And yet... there was something else there too, something deeper, something more vulnerable.

He swallowed

"I have not survived for a thousand years so you'll tell me what to do in my own house," she said darkly.

Rhys's jaw worked, his own anger and defensiveness clashing with a hint of uncertainty. He had never seen her so intense, so powerful. He could feel the cold, sharp edge of her magic in the air, and it sent a chill down his spine.

And then her magic snapped. He wasn't quick enough.

Hadn't expected another surge, as she forced him back, back towards the door. "Out of my house, now," she hissed.

Rhys stumbled back, caught off guard by the sheer force of her magic. He tried to fight it, to push back against her power, but it was like trying to swim upstream against a fast-moving current. She was stronger than he had given her credit for, and he found himself being pushed towards the door.

He gritted his teeth, his own anger and frustration mounting once more. "You can't just throw me out of here," he said through clenched teeth, struggling against her magic. "This is my court, my territory. You have no right-“

"I have every right," she cut in, her eyes flashing with anger. "You came here, uninvited, threatening me and insulting me in my own home. I have the right to defend myself, and if that means kicking you out, so be it."

Rhys clenched his jaw, his own anger and sense of entitlement warring with the sheer force of her magic. He wanted to fight back, to show her that he was the more powerful one here, but he knew deep down that he was outnumbered. Her magic was far stronger than he had expected, and he knew that he couldn't overpower her in her own home.

Not when her wards closed around him like a vice

Rhys felt the wards close around him, constricting his movement, and cutting off his connection to his own magic.

He tried to struggle against them, but it was like trying to push through a solid wall. He was trapped, unable to use his powers or fight back against her.

The realization of his helplessness hit him like a ton of bricks. He was the High Lord, the most powerful fae in the Night Court, and yet here he was, being held captive by a woman he had underestimated and disrespected.

The thought made him furious, his heart thudding with anger and frustration. He couldn't believe he had let himself be put in this position, that he had been taken down by her so easily.

But there was something else, too. A hint of fear, a hint of uncertainty. The realization that he had misjudged her, that he had underestimated the extent of her power and her determination to stand up for herself.

He swallowed, his mind racing as he tried to find a way out, a way to break free from her wards and regain his power. But there was nothing he could do. He was trapped, completely at her mercy.

"Out," she repeated, her voice razor sharp.

Rhys listened.

[offtorivendell]

So,..I’ve read two different books that are elriel coded: NALINI SINGH’S Archangel’s Storm and Black Dagger Brotherhood, Lover Awakened. Books that if I’m not mistaken are one SJM’s favorites… Have you read it? It’s interesting that the both MMC are talented singers, scarred, killer and doesnt speak much. Jason, the angel who is a spymaster, shadow daddy and “hears secrets whispered in the winds” is so Azriel. Zsadist, the vampire with PTSD, similar personality as Jason. I saw a mixed of Jason and Zsadist in Azriel.

Their love interests are princess or aristocrat, very beautiful and well etiquette. Princess Mahiya, the angel (Jason’s mate), helped Jason with spying and she has puma eyes. She loves animal and can create a glowing ball of light. Bella, the vampire aristocrat that killed her kidnapper who is obsessed with her. I felt like I was reading Elriel in both books.

If SJM keeps the inspiration from Archangel’s Storm then it would make sense with the “fanged beast” on Elain’s part. I really think Elain may become a shape-shifter like faes from TOG and could create “a ball of light”, like Yrene or because of the starborn ability? (Oh btw, I was wondering if there’s a possibility that Yrene’s powers are connected to Starborn?)

Do you think Elain’s book will be more of beast themed? Something that is connected to Dusk Court… Anyway, what do you know of the first faes on Prythian? Are Starborn faes the oldest group that founded the Dusk Court, possibly migrating from the Erilea? It sounds like TOG faes are the first generation fae and they sort of evolved in Prythian and Lunathion? SJM made Lunathion connected to Prythian and Erilea. So, I’m wondering how Erilea is connected to Prythian? I know Aelin saw Rhys and Pregnant Feyre in KOA, but that’s it.

Ugh.. sorry for so many questions.. 🫣

Hi anon, and thanks for stopping by!

Disclaimer: the following is all theoretical; while I hope at least some of it will come true, we have to wait for SJM to let us know for sure.

Spoilers for the entire Maasverse, as well as parts of the Black Dagger Brotherhood series, are below.

I haven't read any Nalini Singh, though friends have recommended her to me a few times, so I really should fix that. I obviously cannot comment on any similarities - though I have heard similar rumours that SJM loves the books (but have never tried to corroborate them) - but @shitwillnotbegiven has posted a comparison of Elriel scenes with passages from 'Archangel's Storm' that is very compelling. I definitely recommend giving it a read. Of course we can't say for sure whether or not it was intentional, but yeah. There are similarities.

That being said, I have read the first five or so 'Black Dagger Brotherhood' books, and yeah. Read them for yourself of course, but there is a lot to notice. It was a couple of years ago now, so they're not fresh in my mind, but I remember being very 👀👀👀 at a lot of the similarities, especially between Zsadist, Bella and Phury with Azriel, Elain and Lucien. The lovely @silverdreamscapes has posted about many of the parallels existing between each trio, though imo it goes even further than shipping.

But first, I would like to state for the record that I do not think having an inner beast or monster makes someone bad or evil. I do think lightsingers could be a race of faeries that A) are related in some way to the shadowsingers - witches? - with whom we are all hunky dory (so no hate from me until proven otherwise), B) may in fact be facing persecution over some sort of un/intentional misunderstanding and/or rewritten history, and C) that the library actually acts as a sanctuary for these persecuted beings, in addition to any other battered women, who are both vilified and attacked for nothing but their species. Of course I could always be wrong, but I am expecting a twist that diverges from the "truth" about lightsingers that Cassian gave us in ACOSF.

But I digress. I've forgotten a lot, but I do remember that there was a character with teal eyes, who had been cursed by a goddess to carry a monster within him... if lightsingers have an inner beast* - and two of our teal-eyed priestesses have been lightsingers - you can see where I'm going (and for some fabulous rundowns on the lightsinger theory, please see posts by @silverlinedeyes and @merymoonbeam).

As I have said before, I suspect that shadowsingers and lightsingers could be more similar than we know. I wouldn't be surprised if they both have the ability to lure, and both have a beast form/some sort of inner monster or being. Because the teal-eyed character, Rhage, carries his beast in a sort of living tattoo... and whose shadows have been described as appearing like twins to the tattoos on his chest? You betcha. It's Azriel, our favourite shadowsinger.

A corner of Azriel’s mouth curled up, the shadows about him sliding over his neck like living tattoos, twins to the Illyrian ones marked beneath his leathers. Shadows different from anything my powers summoned, spoke to. Born in a lightless, airless prison meant to break him. Instead, he had learned its language. - ACOFAS, chapter 7

As for Elain's potential powers, I'm all aboard the shapeshifter train (please see @wingedblooms for some brilliant theories), and I cannot wait to see what sort of light she can wield (if any, of course, but I do think she has been tied to it in a lot of ways). Can she Sing light and dark (light) to See what she must? Or to travel someplace very far away? I also wouldn't be surprised if Elain and her light/s act as an executioner for whatever Valg-type being exists in Prythian, as Yrene did with Erawan in KOA. I suspect that the King of Hybern may have been possessed in some way, and that Elain's role in assassinating him could have purified him such that he could die, thus beginning her parallels with Yrene.

As for which Fae are the oldest, I personally suspect that the Starborn Fae did found the land that would have become the Dusk Court, and that some may have travelled to Erilea, but I haven't looked into it enough to have quotes at the ready so I'll tag in @wingedblooms and @silverlinedeyes - or anyone else who wants to join in - because they have had more thoughts on this than I have. It seems that the Starborn faeries are different to the shifter faeries from Erilea, and that both ended up in Midgard thanks to Rigelus and his machinations (but as to which is the original fae species, if any, it hasn't been explicitly stated).

Rigelus chuckled again. “We shall get to that in a moment.” He went on, “Danika realized that the shifters are Fae.” Bryce blinked. “What?” “Not your kind of Fae, of course—your breed dwelled in a lovely, verdant land, rich with magic. If it’s of any interest to you, your Starborn bloodline specifically hailed from a small isle a few miles from the mainland. And while the mainland had all manner of climes, the isle existed in beautiful, near-permanent twilight. But only a select few in the entirety of your world could shift from their humanoid forms to animal ones. The Midgard shifters were Fae from a different planet. All the Fae in that world shared their form with an animal. The mer descended from them, too. Perhaps they once shared a world with your breed of Fae, but they had been alone on their planet for long enough to develop their own gifts.” “They don’t have pointed ears.” “Oh, we bred that out of them. It was gone within a few generations.” An isle of near-permanent twilight, the home world of her breed of Fae … A land of Dusk. - HOSAB, chapter 73

A few of my friends and I - @psychologynerd, @elrieldreamer and @ladynightcourt3 - think/hope that IF we get a crossover of sorts in Elain's book it may be to Erilea, in the past. @psychologynerd has previously pointed out that a pretty faerie with raw magic (which Elain has as a Made faerie - here and here) once visited Mistward before being invited to meet Maeve in Doranelle, never to be heard from again. It's also possibly significant that Elain has been linked with owls - check out @wingedblooms Blodeuwedd and Suriel theories for starters - and Maeve had a healer trapped in owl form at her beck and call (thanks @ladynightcourt3 for your help with the quotes).

“But,” Luca chattered on, “no one here has any exciting or rare abilities. Like shape-shifting into whatever form they want, or controlling fire”—her stomach clenched at that—“or oracular sight. We did have a female wander in with raw magic two years ago—she could do anything she wanted, summon any element, and she was here a week before Maeve called her to Doranelle and we never heard from her again. A shame—she was so pretty, too. But it’s the same here as it is everywhere else: a few people with a pathetic trace of elemental powers that are really only fun for farmers.” - HOF, chapter 11

“It also explains why Aelin reported an owl at Maeve’s side when they first met,” Nesryn said, gesturing to Yrene, whose brows bunched. Then Yrene blurted, “The owl must be the Fae form of a healer. Some healer of hers that she keeps close—as a bodyguard. Has let everyone believe to be some pet …” - TOD, chapter 65

“Speak freely, Connall,” Maeve said, her faint smile remaining. The barn owl perched on the back of her throne watched with solemn, unblinking eyes. “Let your brother know these words are your own and not of my command.” - KOA, chapter 8

Some pet... as Hunt suggested he was for Bryce?

“I’m sorry,” Hunt interrupted, “but are you implying that I was made by you two assholes? As some sort of pet?” He pointed to Thanatos, then to Apollion. “Not a pet,” Apollion said darkly. “A weapon.” He nodded to Bryce. “For her, whenever she might come along.” - HOFAS, chapter 61

A weapon, just like Elain becoming "the knife in the dark" to assassinate - and potentially purify the Valg from - the King of Hybern?

I've theorised before that Elain might have plant/earth related powers - which ties in well with her reaction to the Hewn City in ACOSF, and what we learnt about Sathia/Flynn's reaction to being on Avallen in HOFAS - and many of us have long thought she may have some sort of healing magic (here and here). So was the pretty faerie Elain?

I would combust.

Anyway, I hope I answered everything, and I'm SO sorry for this response taking literal months. If you do see this, my bad.

[wingedblooms]

It’s strange to me that someone was so upset about a fun headcanon that they felt the need to send this. No one is claiming this is canon and there’s no need to compete; multiple headcanons and theories can coexist in peace.

Because I enjoy theorizing, I do want to address the “random” claim here. I’m not sure the anon read the full post or reblogs because the headcanon isn’t random. There’s a lot we don’t know about those with the gift of clairvoyance, and the Cauldron and Amren (one of which is the source of powers), are very (probably intentionally) vague about Elain’s powers.

There is decent evidence that Elain possesses the powers of oracles and mystics. How else are mystics able to communicate with creatures across the world and universe if their power does not transcend the boundaries of language? It’s possible this knowledge carries over into her regular social interactions with others. We don’t know, but I bet we’ll find out either way.

And like her sister Nesta, who benefitted from the support of the priestesses at Dusk, Elain may also tap into their witchy tools and powers to amplify her own abilities at Dawn.

It’s not random, but even if it was, who cares?

Why would Elain be able to speak the language of Midgard? 💀 How random is that Lmao

Not just the language of Midgard actually, but any language. I’m working off of the assumption that the Mystics power & Elains are similar, if not the same.

I find it more random that you decided to send me this anon, obviously trying to disparage something that I’ve said. Once again if you don’t like something, it’s as simple as blocking and moving on with your day. ❤️

[emilyondemand]

Rot and Bloom and Bone

Day 1: Visions 🔮

One of the things I am most looking forward to in Elain’s book is learning how her visions work, what the murky realm looks like inside her mind, and how similar her powers work in comparison to the mystics and oracles from the CC world.

For this commission, I was inspired by the line from the Book of Breathings: rot and bloom and bone and wanted to visually represent it with Elain slipping in and out of the murky realm of her visions.

I could not have put my vision for this piece in better hands than @shim0rin He captured exactly what I wanted so beautifully, his attention to detail and how he creates water is just exquisite!

🎨: Shim0rin on IG

Commissioned by: me

Character belongs to: @sarahjmaas

For: @elainarcheronweek

Find it on IG here

Likes, comments, saves, and shares are always welcomed and appreciated!!

Please do not repost without permission

[limeandorange]

The one-book-per-couple format in ACOTAR is so weird because it sidelines literally everyone else.

Like… why did we only see the entire scene of Elain/Nesta killing Hybern through Feyre’s POV, via her touching the Cauldron??? You’re telling me she just stood there, hands on the magic death bowl for like five whole minutes, and no one interfered?? Not one single person was like "Hey, maybe we should stop her from going full oracle mode in the middle of battle"??

And you’re also telling me that Elain, the literal seer, had NOT ONE WEIRD VISION throughout ACOSF??? Not a single "Hey, maybe Briallyn is about to use Cassian against Nesta" or "Careful, something’s off" moment??

Also, I wish SJM was chaotic enough to make Elriel canon, just for the absolute mess that would follow. Imagine Elain finally making a choice, rejecting Lucien, picking Azriel—only for Azriel’s bond to snap with Gwyn. THE DRAMA.

Dude would spiral into the worst guilt imaginable, knowing that a mate was rejected because of him, only to have his own bond snap with someone else.

And THEN, after everything we've been told about mates, after Elriel and Nessian happen, suddenly Nesta is the one to reject her mate??? Cassian would LOSE IT. Imagine him yelling at Azriel about "mates belong together", and Azriel being the one to clap back like "people are allowed to make their own choices"—THE HYPOCRISY. THE CHAOS.

Meanwhile, Elain has to figure her own shit out because she realizes she only chose Azriel to rebel against her mating bond—not because she actually wanted him, but because she was rejecting the idea of being Fae itself, not Lucien. So now she has to crawl back to Lucien and deal with it.

And while she’s doing that, Gwyn absolutely beats Azriel into the ground, physical and metaphorical. Just kicks his ass, no mercy, no holding back. So satisfying.

And THEN we have Feyre, finally realizing that Rhysand made her become everything she despised when she was with Tamlin—but she resigns herself to it, because he’s too powerful of a High Lord, and their bond is too strong to fight against.

ALL OF THIS HAPPENING AT THE SAME TIME. Imagine the chaos. Imagine the absolute wreckage of these books. I would simply ascend.

[b0xerdancer-writes]

The Heir of Spring

Tamlin x Archeron!Reader

Summary: When one of Feyre's sisters' stabs Tamlin in the arm, the male took a strange liking to her, he had hoped she had been the one to kill the wolf he could love her ferocity; only she wasn't but she tracked Feyre through the woods and into the Fae realms to show up on Tamlin's doorstep. The rest is history as the two fall in love and start their own family.

Prompt: Heir Of Spring

Warnings: War, violence, blood, family disagreements, feyre and rhys slander, nesta and elain slander kind of.

Word Count: 5,402

Notes: A bit smaller but a good start to Tamlin week, this may be a thing I revisit and do a prologue or multiple parts to delving more into their day to day and relationships since this is cannon divergent and kind of an AU of what if the Spring Court didn't fall. And I felt Tamlin needed some character growth.

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

The Archeron sisters had become powerful figures before the Hybern war. The oldest a figment of death herself, The next an oracle with powerful visions, the next imbued with the powers of dryads and nymphs, and the youngest a curse breaker with a touch of every court in her blood.

Stories were told of the four sisters, how the youngest was putting her life on the line for the other three but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth; Feyre knew it but wouldn’t speak in favor of the male that had once locked her within the halls of his estate and the sister she had become estranged with.

When Feyre had first been taken to Prythian she had enjoyed Rosehall however boring it seemed to her, she had been warned about the dangers that lurked between her and her home.  She had been taken aback  when a loud pounding came from the door that startled both Tamlin and Lucien, Tamlin was the first at the door Lucien and herself behind the blonde male. The sister who would later be known as ‘The Dryad’ stood at the door of Rosehall, dressed in hunting furs and bloody, a head from something Feyre would only ever see in her nightmares in her hands. They had different mothers but had bonded together over their years, her mother had been a servant in the Archeron household who had been coerced into sleeping with the master of the house yet she had some of the strongest willpower around and had spent her time in the forests around their home; it paid off now in their young adult years, she had tracked many things for Feyre during Spring when mud would hide tracks.

Tamlin was stunned, that he would admit, at how this small female human had fought her way through the woods, found her way through the wall, and had fought her way to Rosehall; and by the looks of it she had taken out a naga on her own relatively recently from the scent. Tamlin was even more stunned when she tossed the head at his feet, blood splattered on his boots.

“I killed it, I hate the fae  and I murdered one in cold blood. It didnt attack me and gave me no reason to murder it, just like my sister. Now you have to take me in too.” She had growled at the blonde male.

“You took out a naga?” Tamlin asked and she nodded. “By yourself?” She nodded again. “On my property?” She nodded again. “In my court?” Tamlin gaped. 

“Okay then Rosebud, you are free to stay here. We were just having breakfast and I’m sure you must be hungry after a fight with a naga, so feel free to eat up. I’ll have the maids make you a room and then you are free to bathe if you wish, make yourself at home dear.” Tamlin had been truly impressed by the female in front of him, taken with her he would even admit.

She had raised her head high and waltzed right past Tamlin and Lucien only to nod at her sister in greeting. “Feyre, good to see you again.”

Feyre gawked. “What are you doing here?” 

“Originally I came to save you from the jaws of a best but now I refuse to let you go through this alone.” The older female had stated matter of factly and waltzed into the dining room, Feyre at her heels.

When the two female disappeared from their view Lucien had turned to his blonde counterpart with a questioning look on his face. “Tam, pardon me for questioning you, but WHAT WAS THAT.” He whisper-screamed at the blonde.

Tamlin shrugged a smug look on his face. “I like that one, she's the one I was the one who killed Andras. She's the one I told you about.” 

Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “That's the one that stabbed you with the ash dagger in your arm.” 

Tamlin nodded. “Correct however you forgot the other part of it.”

Lucien sighed, already done with Tamlin’s own antics for the day. “My apologies, correction the one that stabbed you in the arm with an ash dagger and made you 99% sure she's your mate.” 

Tamlin gave Lucien an offended look. “I’m not crazy Lucien.  I barged into their house, completely smashed the door from its hinges, mind you, and her first instinct was to leap over a couch at me and put herself between me and her family and stab me in the arm to pull my attention to her…”

Lucien sighed and cut the older male off. “And when you did look at her you felt something similar to how the bind is rumored to feel, just dampened. I get it Tam, maybe it's just dampened because she's human?”

Tamlin nodded. “Maybe. I will just have to wait and see then.” Tamlin motioned to the dining room. “Shall we?” 

Luicen snorted and started back towards the dining room, Tamlin turned and kicked the head out into his yard. Lucien was leaning smugly against the dining room door frame obviously trying to fight laughter and Tamlin found out why when he entered the dining room to find his Rosebud in his chair chowing down on the plate of bacon and pancakes he had compiled earlier before her interruption. Tamlin couldn’t be mad though, he found it adorable and he had rightly invited her into his home and to his table.

He cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention in the room, he sent a wink towards the female in his spot and with a snap of his fingers the table added another sitting and he took his place across from the spiteful, strong willed female.

+

The two were a hilarious picture to Lucien, and he was sure to the mother as well if she truly did design them to be together. They were out in the meadows and she was in his face over something and Tamlin looked like a hurt puppy, Feyre had refused to join but her sister was adamant exploring her ‘prison’ as she called it.

Lucien was leaning against a tree, nose in a good book when he had heard their argument cease, he looked up just ws Tamlin was about to say something and the female with a bored expression on her face; without fail he watched Tamlin point to the moon pool beside them and her just shove the blonde male into it. Lucien had busted out into laughter and she pointed at him and then back at the lake; he raised his hands in surrender ,set his book down, and kicked off his boots. He had stepped up to her, and just as she reached out to shove him in he threw her straight into the water instead. When she finally dragged herself from the water with a pout she had pushed Lucien back in on top of Tamlin; the two males proceeded to race her back to the manor that evening after their clothes had dried, Tamlin had let her win of course by insisting she take the fastest horse. 

+

When Rhysand had appeared the evening at the manor, Tamlin had put her under a glamor and had her behind his chair, she had clutched the same dagger she had stabbed Tamlin with tightly in her right hand and leveled her breathing, when Rhysand had found Feyre and grabbed her by her chin Tamlin had shot her a glare, still hidden under the blondes glamor, for some reason she knew what that look meant. 

‘Stay hidden.’ He begged her silently in that look. ‘Don’t stab him. It will be okay.’

She had understood and focused on her breathing not giving herself away, Tamlin had put himself between her and Rhys and she found herself clutching the back of his shirt to calm herself; after the gloomy male had left she had leaned against the blonde male while catching her breath.

It had been that night after Feyre and Lucien had gone to bed that she slipped from her own room, it was grand and only one other door shared the hall with hers; the room across from hers was Tamlin’s, she knew that much for sure, as she had heard his steps and the door close late every night. She had never been a good sleeper, insomnia had haunted her since she was a child and the only thing that seemed to sooth it was nature; during the warmer seasons back home she could simply open a window but that was impossible in the winter and she had been so adjusted to her winter schedule it affected her more than normal. Any sane person, human or fae, would think her insomnia a side effect of the gloomy males appearance earlier; she didn't know quite what caused it but she did know Tamlin was affected by the same kind as her, every night just as exhaustion began she would hear Tamlin’s steps, heavy and slow, coming down the hall and disappear into his room. 

Except this time instead of his steps lulling her to sleep, they never came up the stairs so she fought off the exhaustion nipping at the edges of her consciousness and slipped down the halls into his study where he had disappeared after dinner.  No words were spoken as he looked up from the glass of whiskey and simply offered her her own glass, she had taken it with a nod; fire crackled in the hearth to her right and eventually Tamlin moved from his seat behind his desk to the one beside her, an unspoken understanding between them as he wrapped a fur tossed over the back of his chair over her. Eventually the two dragged themselves up the stairs and through the halls again, slipping into their rooms with a wave and nearly falling into their own beds, it was the start of an unspoken relationship and the first taste Tamlin had of who his mate truly was.

+

The night of calanmai had been rough, the drums and smoke called to her, she had always loved festivals and parties; and Tamlin had been cold and distant and his steps were not there to assure her everything was okay, surely he would be out all night and wouldn't care if she were to slip into his bed in search for some semblance of comfort. Tamlin’s silk sheets were cool against her skin and her own silk pajamas, she could only assume what Feyre was up to in her room; Tamlin had ordered them to stay here and as much as she wanted to disappear into the crowds of partying fae she refused, opting to cover her head with one of Tamlin’s pillows as a way to deafen herself from the calling music outside. Two mistakes had been made that night, one was Tamlin refusing to fully inform them about what Calanami was and two was the fact she had deafened herself and didnt hear those steps she had familiarized herself with coming up the stairs.

Tamlin was completely exhausted and disgusted by Calanmai, he was sure of it now, or at least that last sane part of his brain tonight was, that she was his mate; every maiden’s scent disgusted him and he had even smelled Feyre’s there it was similar to the one he wished had been there but different enough he had no urge to chase after it, he'd had an altercation with Feyre on his way back into the manor but was able to restrain himself at the thought of his mates smell lingering in the halls. It was her he wanted, not her little sister.

Tamlin wanted to just bathe and collapse into bed, his mind in a fog due to the mix of lingering magic and his senses beginning to clear. Yet when he finally clambered his way up the stairs he found himself confused that his door was cracked and a faint lamp light seeped out into the hallway, he was confident he had closed the door and shut off his lamps. He stepped into his room looking everything over and his heart nearly stopped at the sight of his female curled up in his bed, he didn't want to wake her and ruin the sight in front of him; he cursed and tiptoed into the attached bathing room, to him he still stunk if the female he had given unto his instincts with and didn’t want to disturb or disgust the female fast asleep in his bed.

His brain was on autopilot, a mix of hormones, instincts, and the slightest bit of control he did have. He scrubbed his skin raw until every inch of paint and any trace of the females that were throwing themselves at him was gone, he finally slipped into cotton trousers with a groan; he briefly debated going across the hall into her room to sleep but a warm bed and the female in it was calling to him. Surely if she had sought him out like this she wouldn't mind him sleeping in hisnown bed beside her, after all they both had made a habit of checking on the other before falling asleep now. He tucked himself into the silk sheets beside her and sighed as she curled into him, the comfort of her being there surely was the determining factor in his muscles finally  relaxing and letting him fall asleep seamlessly.

All that had been spoken between the two the next morning was a simple exchange of “you okay?” and “yeah. You?” And a nod of her head. 

Nothing was said when they both appeared for breakfast, Lucien seemed content at poking fun at Feyre for a bruised wrist and the nearly erotic interactions she had at the festival last night before Lucien finally escorted her back to the manor; Her sister had simply shook her head at Feyre when she found out the younger female had snuck out despite being told to stay.

Other than that everything had stayed relatively uneventful, the two continued their evening drinks and then would climb the stairs together to collapse into their own beds; but it had been just the start they needed.

The next time anything eventful happened was when she and Feyre had been sent back to their home, she had put up a fight and it took knocking her out to get her in the carriage.

Tamlin had felt terrible hurting his Rosebud like that, he knew she didn’t want to leave Rosehall and it hurt him to have to knock her out just to keep her safe. She had locked herself inside her room, refusing to come down and eat; she became a ghost. She wouldn’t admit to it but Tamlin’s presence had calmed her and had offered a strange kind of presence that left a lot of emptiness and longing there, She would only ever leave her room late at night after everyone else had gone to bed and she would sit in the garden across from the rose bushes remembering her late night meetings with Tamlin; she never once noticed Feyre’s absence within the walls of the home she occupied.

She stayed out of Nesta and Elain’s ways and kept out of their business, until a loud knock came at her door. She opened it with a growl in her throat ready to scream about leaving her alone, only Feyre greets her at the door but yet she is now fae like Tamlin; her eyes scanned over the sharpened features and pointed ears, a frown comes over her face as she furrows her brows.

“Sister, before you say anything let me explain.” Feyre begged, pushing her way into the room and closing the door behind her.

The older female shrugged sarcastically. “Well I have no other option since you pushed your way in here, explain away.”

“I don’t wish for you to be mad at me.” Feyre pleaded.

“I have a feeling I am going to anyways, no matter what you say that is not a promise I can make to you right now.” The older snapped, venom in her words.

The two sat down opposite each other on the padded couches she had tucked into the corner of her room, Feyre explained everything that had happened and begged her to help them with the mortal queens that would be meeting with them soon. That it might be good for her, she needed to get out of this funk anyways because Tamlin was jot a good male; Feyre insisted it and the older female felt her blood pounding in her ears and behind her eyes.

“Don’t you dare slander him like that, he only did what he had to to protect us Feyre, don’t start with me on this.” The older female growled.

“I'm telling you sister he is a bad male and I need you to put whatever feelings you have behind you and help us with this. You were there in Prythian too, you can speak on the matters that happened there.” Feyre begged.

“I will be down for dinner to meet these males you speak so highly of. I will think about your offer. I promise you nothing.” She hissed back at Feyre, pushing her younger sister from the room and shutting the door with a loud bang.

She dragged herself into the attached bathing room, contemplating ways to truly anger her sister for how she had spoken about a male she could tell was truly broken.  She scrubbed herself with floral scents, dressed herself in the same greens Tamlin had worn, and then slipped one of the roses she had brought up from the late nights in the garden into her hair; a sign of who she was truly loyal too, she didn't see Feyre’s disdain for the blonde male she only saw the fact he tried to protect them.

She had joined the group in the kitchen, Feyre had given her a sad dejected look upon her arrival to the dining room table, she made no talk with the males around the table even when they attempted to reason or talk with her.

Eventually she stood, after she’d had enough of their insults and turned to address Feyre. “I will not be supporting you this time little sister, you insult my family and those I love then turn around and expect me to bend to your every whim? Well I will not be bending for you this time. Find your own way, Cursebreaker.” 

She stepped out into the gardens to lose herself amongst the Roses she had helped Elain plant, a stone bench with heads of beasts carved into it greeted her; the only place she felt she could truly relax when her mind was racing, the beasts on the bench had reminded her of Tamlin’s beast form. After she cooled off she would head back inside and curl into bed, hopefully she'd get some kind of sleep tonight.

+

Several weeks had passed, everything had returned to normal, the queens came and went but a loud noise of some sort had her sitting up in bed; her door was off its hinges and three males  filed into her room. She screamed and fought, but they gagged and bound her; eventually one of them had gotten tired of her thrashing and knocked her out.

+

When I came to, Elain was being pulled from a large pot, but Tamlin’s eyes never left my figure despite Feyre clinging to his arm and when he saw I was finally awake he made a subtle gesture to stay calm, his eyes held the same message they had the day Rhysand stormed into Rosehall: ‘don't fight, don't move, don't get hurt.’ 

I nodded back but tensed up as they dragged me forward. I rose to my feet, squared my shoulders, and shrugged off their grasp; stepping into the cauldron of my own free will. Just as I was about to submerge into the water I heard Tamlin call out for me, I felt his panic, felt every emotion he was feeling in my own chest and hoped he could feel my own thoughts and emotions; I took one last breath and let myself sink into the water, that enveloped me in a cool feeling that reminded of the breeze that floated across the Spring Court.

Inside the water, the cool black emptiness turned and twisted until I was greeted by a misshapen and abandoned version of Rosehall, inside a version of Tamlin that had clearly given up; it saddened me to see him in that, angered me to clearly see the cause: Feyre. The male she had chosen over Tamlin was towering over him, mocking him about Feyre destroying his court from the inside out. I couldn’t move, could only watch but then Rhys said something that had me thrashing against whatever invisible force held me in place.

“Too bad you listened to Feyre and that dumb little priestess instead of your mate. Maybe you wouldn’t have lost it all.” Rhysand had mocked. 

No. I wouldn't let him lose it all, I’d be there to protect him like he had me, like he had tried to do with Feyre. I fought against everything restraining me to reach out for Tamlin and Rhysand to put myself between them and from the ground a wall of thorns all angled at Rhysand’s throat grew, one wrong move could have had his head on a spike. Whatever seemed to hold me there disappeared and I clattered onto the familiar wooden flooring of Rosehall,  I rushed forward to Tamlin who called out my name; the thorns around Rhysand swarmed me instead and I screamed as they embedded themselves into my skin, it burned and I felt like my insides were being torn apart and reformed repeatedly, until one final crack had my vision going white and I attempted to reach out in Tamlin’s direction. Everything came rushing back to me as my hand made contact with the iron of the cauldron and I pulled myself back out, my body felt thinner yet heavier and all of my senses felt sharper; I stepped fully from the cauldron to find everyone staring at me and then Tamlin called my name desperately, my vision snapped to him and I rushed forward when everything was silenced by a blinding gold light and the feeling of belonging.

He had pulled me into his arms, faced me away from my sisters as they dragged Nesta under and he shrugged Feyre off. It was the first I had been able to take in my appearance, or at least a portion of it; where the vines had embedded themselves tattoos of swirling thorns made themselves at home with an occasional Rose in bloom or blooming  littered throughout the design. Bracelets weaved together of vine, woods, and ivy dangled from my wrists; the tattoos led towards my wrist and faded into black at my fingertips.

“How intriguing,” a voice called out from behind me and Tamlin’s grasp tightened around me. “She's high fae yes, but there is clearly something ancient in her blood the cauldron transformed; she's similar to a wood nymph but so very different I haven't seen a dryad for ages, I believed them extinct. How exceptional for the cauldron to give us this.” 

I felt a rumble begin in Tamlin’s chest and I tightened my own grasp on Tamlin. “Seems like the girl had fae blood in her veins somewhere Tamlin, appreciate that fact.”

The rest of the evening went by fast, I could barely remember it with my face buried in Tamlin’s chest. Nesta and Elain had tried to call me over to them but I simply shot them a glare. Eventually we returned to Rosehall, Lucien gave me a sympathetic nod while Feyre tried to cling onto Tamlin’s arm. She tried to play up how much she missed him, a lie, in fact it was all lies that fell out of her mouth; I had heard her ramble on and on about how much she was in love with Rhysand the day she brought them to our table, and it bothered me I wanted to say something but I was content in Tamlin’s arms as he carried me. 

He had brought me to my old room,  nothing had been touched beside the bed. “Sorry, I may have slept in the bed a couple times on sleepless nights.”

“You have nothing to apologize for Tamlin, but I have to ask you something.” I gave him a worried look.

“Of course Love.” He furrowed his brows. “What has you so concerned?”

“When I was in the cauldron, I saw something that I feel you should know though.” I clutched at the material of his shirt desperately.

“Of course love, what is it? What did you see?” Tamlin asked me with a concerned tone of voice.

“When I went under in the cauldron, I was here but not here, everything was torn apart and it looked abandoned. You were here down stairs in your study and Rhys was looming over you, he said something about how if only you had listened to me and not the priestess or Feyre. I have reason to believe the cauldron told me that for a reason Tamlin, I know for a fact the way Feyre is acting is a charade and that she completely despises you. She begged me to let go of the feelings I had for you and to listen to how terrible of a person you were when she came home to us as a fae.” I explained.

“Rhysand said something about how you'd lose it all, he… he was threatening you,” I looked to the ground and fusted the fabric of his tunic tighter in my hands. “I couldn’t stand for it. I- I reached out for you and then a wall of thorns was separating you and Rhysand and they were all pointing to Rhysands neck. And- and when I came out of the cauldron you called for me and then I looked at you and everything was glowing with a faint golden light and there was a throb in my chest-“ I was in the midst of rambling when Tamlin pulled me into a growl with a kiss.

“I'll send Feyre back to her court, and then me and you will consummate our mating bond and then will do this our way. Alright? Neither one of us will be left alone to lose it all as long as we have the other.” Tamlin assured me.

“Alright.” I nodded.

“Get cleaned up, I’m going to talk to your sister and send her back home. We can talk about consummating the bond later tonight.” Tamlin kissed my forehead and motioned to the attached bathroom.

+

The bond had been consummated over a cherry pie, and everything had been going alright; Feyre had frowned upon the fact I revealed her plan to Tamlin, she was even more bitter he had made me High Lady after he had refused her. The war came and went, I knew his plans of infiltrating Hybern and bringing the plans to the other High Lords; fuck, I had attended the meeting with him and fought with my sister over the venomous words she soit towards me and my mate. On the field I had caused massive damage, walls of thorns herded our enemies, tore them apart, and pulled them into the terrain below; I could cover large areas of terrain  and bend it to our whim. It had made enough of a difference and I believed my sister understood that, as she clutched her dead mate and Tamlin offered him a shred of his own magic after getting a nod from me. It would be the last thing I would do to support her.

+

After the war we spent a majority of our time repairing the Spring Court  that was until Lucien had made a comment about my scent being different which concerned Tamlin and led to an announcement of Spring Courts heir. Well I say ‘announcement’ but really we kept it under wraps from anyone but members of our court till the next High Lords meeting was called. Eris had been crowned after Beron had been assassinated by some leftover bane put into his drink; the assassin was never caught even though we all knew it had been a plot by Eris and his mother. Kallias had added Viv into our list of High Ladies and Helion had married Lucien’s mother. Come to find out Lucien was heir of the Day court and he had been trekking back and forth between Day and Spring to perform all of his duties.

Tamlin and I would be the last two to appear for the High Lords meeting, our son Alder on my hip; he was only two now but he had Tamlins golden hair and bright green eyes, you could make out his Dryad heritage though by the smokey black around his fingertips. Tamlin had offered to research my heritage with me to find out more about Dryads for me and our son.

Alder was fascinated by his Uncle Lulu, as he had taken to calling him, and started squirming in my arms the second he saw the ginger leaning against the entrance of his father’s home, His fox-like grin greeted us warmly. 

“Good to see you two again, and as always its great to see my little Alder!” Lucien took the small boy into his arms, offering him a small orb of light to play with.

Tamlin pulled me into his side, “We are going to announce it tonight but we are naming him heir.”

Lucien snorted. “Do you really have to name him heir? He's your only one so far so no one will contest it anyways.” 

Tamlin and I exchanged looks and Lucien glared at us. “Right?”

“Actually, that's part of why we were announcing it tonight.” I started but Lucien interrupted.

“Oh by the mother! You’re having another!” Lucien exclaimed. 

Tamlin and I nodded equally as excited. “We better get in there, though I'm sure they can excuse us for the lateness due to Alder refusing to get dressed into nicer clothes.”

Lucien snorted and passed Alder back to Tamlin. “Then let's get in there, shall we?” 

+

The meeting went extremely well, all the other courts were excited to welcome Alder as the heir of spring and happily congratulated us on the other arrival that would be coming soon. 

I had introduced Alder to Feyre, Rhys and the rest of the inner circle out of duty and not respect. “This is Feyre and Rhys, they are the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, the northernmost point of Prythian.”

Alder furrowed his brows and reached for Tamlin over my shoulder, he swept him away while he conversed with Eris and Lucien. 

“Sister-“ Feyre had started.

“Don’t” I hissed at her, Nesta and Elain backing her up. “You have no right to call me that after what you tried to do to my mate. The last kind act you received from me was the war. Be happy Feyre, but it won't be with me in your life. If you wish to show up Tamlin is throwing a party for Alder’s birthday, he's naming him as heir publicly there.”

I turned from her and  joined back at my mates side, Tamlin had grown since I first met him for sure; he was a good male, a good dad, he was ecstatic about training his children, and he was passionate about his court. I had seen him grow since his heir was born, there had been many a night where Tamlin would ramble on about all the stuff he couldn’t wait to show Alder about his court. He was so ecstatic to have Alder that he had gotten a small golden crown forged for him that was a duplicate to Tamlin’s. 

I was proud of the male I loved, he had come so far and I couldn’t have asked for a better life with him. I just had one last puzzle to figure out: How to tell him I was pregnant with twins, and there would be three children running around Rosehall soon enough.

Taglist: @tamlinweek

[wingedblooms]

THIS ART IS INCREDIBLE! All the details are so lovely, and I’m obsessed with the idea that Apollion is Azriel’s reflection on the other side, luring Elain into a false sense of peace. My mind is going wild with the possibilities!!! I’m so honored you were inspired to commission this beautiful art as a result of my posts. 😭😭😭😭 This is utter perfection, friend.

“This time, you sent the trembling fawn to find me. I did not expect to see those doe-eyes peering at me from across the world.”

Happy Elain Archeron Week Day 6: Fanged Beast

One of my absolute favorite theories in this fandom is that Elain will be able to traverse the murky realm, like the Mystics in HOSAB. @wingedblooms incredible mind connects details in a way most only dream of and has helped to further my excitement for Elain’s book and journey. You can find the two main theories that inspired this piece here and here.

The first time we see Elain peer across the world, she is doing so as a trembling fawn, but my hope is that, she will peer across worlds on her way to becoming a fanged beast and embrace that side of her in her own book.

In this piece, Elain has left behind Az and Bryce in Velaris, and stepped into the murky realm, only to be greeted by a waiting Apollion, mirroring Az. Apollion’s black eyes, deep and dark as the Pit in which he dwells- a telltale sign that his relaxed posture is nothing more than a trick to give a false sense of calm. But I have confidence Elain’s fangs and claws will get her back home.

A massive thank you to @luxury_banshee on IG for creating this piece for me💕

You can find this art on IG here

Please do not repost

@elainarcheronweek

[nicawritesandwhines]

A honeymoon in Summer Court

It was close to dinner time when Azriel, feeling utterly happy and relaxed, told his wife about the insomnia she caused him before Elain blessed him with a—second—chance. What he didn’t tell her, though, was his favorite fantasy during those terribly hot, needy times.

Elain sunbathing on the pinks sands of Whitehaven, a desert island on southwest Summer Court.

He would spend hours imagining her pale skin turning a soft golden, Elain laying down with minimal to no clothes at all. Her long and proper dresses forgotten on the sand, all her curves and angles exposed to sunlight. The peace and quiet surrounding them broken only by the melodic sound of crashing waves of the turquoise sea.

And Azriel would wonder. Gods, how he would wonder, the heated thoughts consuming him.

Would her shoulders be covered in freckles? Would her button nose get a lovely blush? Or would the delicate skin burn and crack due to too much exposure, exactly like that goddess statue he once saw in Velaris Museum, with tiny missing pieces?

And then, his imagination would give way to his needs. His shadows would be asleep and finally, he would fist himself whispering her name, almost hearing the sound of the ocean. Almost tasting the sea salt that would cover her still damp body.

So it was only natural that Azriel almost dropped his glass of wine mid drinking when Elain suggested their honeymoon should be somewhere close to the ocean.

A long forgotten island somewhere.

Oh. Oh.

“How close, love?” The shadowsinger could feel the heat on his cheeks. Did she knew?

“I want to make love hearing the waves from our bedroom window,” was her reply while serving herself a—second—glass of the same white wine he tried to have a sip previously.

Their gaze met, and Azriel felt it then, that unique familiarity between them given him all the answers.

Elain winked at him and raised her glass in a silent toast.

The little vixen knew.

Shaking his head, Azriel smiled and followed her raising his glass. The wine never tasted so sweet.

Oh, the joys of being marry to an oracle.

[elrielslam]

What Bloomed in the Darkgarden by ehoney

My favourite Elriel fanfiction by far. It's got everything you could ever hope for - Elain using dark witchy powers, sweet slowburn angst with Azriel, women refusing to be put in a triangle, travel to other courts, a spectacular blazing row with Rhys where he's thoroughly told off, lore and mythology and darling shadows.

(seriously, i don't even need the new book anymore. this is perfection)

Link here

Summary: Elain Archeron is not the trembling fawn everyone believes her to be. Two years after the war, she feels an awakening- a power which calls her to grow untamed things under moonlight. She then receives an invitation to master her abilities as a Seer under the guidance of an Oracle of the Day Court. All the while fighting an inevitable war of passion for a holy mess of a shadow-wreathed male who looks at her with all the longing in the world. So perhaps a little more softly, a little more lethally, Elain begins her journey down the path unknown. For there’s something blooming within her. Something darker, softer, and wilder than she can name- reaching for the song of the Void. “Damn the Cauldron.” Azriel strode towards her. “Damn the Stars.” He closed the distance. “This-” those scarred hands softly gripped her face, bringing it within an inch of his own. “This-” he wrapped his scent around her and looked directly into her soul, making sure she could feel the charge, the need, the nameless want- “This could never be a mistake.”