#sarah rose summers

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 5

I Want Crazy

Azriel Eris x Reader

After a promotion to an emissary position by a meddling Tarquin, Y/N and Eris get much, much closer.

A/n: There will likely only be a couple more chapters of this fic. For those of you concerned by the previous chapter, please continue to trust the process. Our girl is intelligent.

Part 4 Part 6

Warnings: Language, brief mention of fertility struggles

Our first date, the seasons changed. It got washed away in a summer rain

He wasn’t what I expected, Eris Vanserra. Not that I ever fathomed what to expect or even considered it. In fact there was only a very short list of things I knew prior to the day we met:

-He was a High Lord.

-He’d been a secretive ally of the Night Court prior to his father’s demise.

-Azriel fucking hated him.

And after that day I knew everything I needed to:

-He was warm beyond the fire in his veins

-He was a just ruler

-He had a dry wit that sat well with my soul.

-I wanted to see him again.

After dancing that night, we ran back to Tarquin’s palace in the rain. It was the first time I’d been unable to contain my joy in far too long. I laughed, and skipped, and spun in circles the whole way back. Eris grumbled the entire way but I could see the amusement lit in his eyes. The next morning he met me for breakfast and found me again before he left for the Autumn Court.

He began finding reasons to visit the Summer Court more frequently and sought me out every time. It was no time before Eris became a close friend.

Tarquin - ever the cheeky, wonderful bastard - only gave me knowing smiles when he’d catch us walking the palace grounds. According to Cresseida, The High Lord of the Summer Court was quite the romantic and had a knack for playing matchmaker. I was inclined to agree considering that after a month of spotting Eris and I around the grounds, Tarquin made a proposition to me. I could still teach my classes but he needed a temporary emissary to the Autumn court as they negotiated border, trade, and tariff agreements. Given my recent closeness with the High Lord of Autumn and overall wonderful (debatable) disposition, he found me to be the perfect candidate. With that, I found myself on official court business in the Autumn Court.

Who cares if you’re all I think about?

I was nervous on the first visit to Autumn. I knew things were different under Eris’ reign but the stories of Beron’s cruelty within his own keep were enough to warrant a bit of caution.

My worries were quickly cast aside when Eris personally escorted me from the border and to his keep. The Autumn Court was stunning. The leaves on the trees were brighter than I’d ever seen. The hues ranging from gold to red absolutely stunning. I’d love to have Feyre one day paint it for me.

Smells of roasting chestnuts, hickory smoke, crisp leaves, apple cider, and autumn air filled my nose. On the way, Eris stopped by a small farm where the owner allowed us to pick what Eris called the finest Honeycrisp apples in all of Prythian. I’d never had that variety before and though I had nothing to compare them against, the apples had the perfect crunch and just the right ratio of tart and sweet. He paid the farmer handsomely for a bucket of them and several pie pumpkins for his kitchens.

The Autumn Keep was far from the drab stone castle that I’d pictured. Eris clearly went to great strides to ensure the ghost of Beron Vanserra had no hold here. The grand rooms were filled with maple accents, rugs and tapestries with hues greens, golds, oranges and reds. Fires roared in massive fireplaces and autumnal spices filled the air.

And despite the beauty of the keep. I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off of the tall, handsome redhead walking alongside me.

Once I was settled for the stay, we did meet to discuss political matters which took countless hours, but I was rather impressed with the ease of our negotiations. He and Tarquin had similar visions for the economic future within their courts.

We enjoyed dinner together, indulged in autumnal wines, including a hot mulled wine that flushed my cheeks. Or so I told Eris that was the reason for the blush on my features, and certainly not the way way he’d refer to me as “my lady” or “little fox.”

We’d stayed up late, sitting by a bon fire outside beneath the Autumn Skies. There was music and dancing, spiked ciders, and caramel apples. I could see why Eris loves his court.

We, of course, kept respectful distance from eachother as not to spark any gossip of anything more than friendship between he and I. Yet somehow, hours later, we found ourselves in a private courtyard - a small fire burning as we lay back on a blanket together. I began to shiver as the evening chill grew cooler. As I went to bid Eris goodnight and head for the warmth within Castle Walls, he halted me.

“Come here” he spoke. His voice low.

I scooted a bit closer.

“Come closer, little fox. I won’t bite.”

He refrained from adding “unless you ask me to” but that was readable enough in his heavy lidded gaze.

So I laid beside him, my head nestled between his chest and shoulder as his heat warmed my body. I showed him various constellations that I’d learned of during my time in the Night Court and he did a terrible job of visualizing them. He tried though. He told me how he used to wish on shooting stars, how he still found himself occasionally wishing upon them. I teared up when he told me of the wishes he’d made back then for his mother and Lucien, for himself, to one day escape Beron’s cruelty. For a better life. A better Court.

When we saw a shooting star later, he made a wish and told me it was bad luck to tell someone else the wish.

And I, despite everything that had turned upside down in life, found myself struggling to ask for anything more than what I had in that moment.

When we finally said goodnight I realized his own suite was right next to the one he had set me up in.

I woke in a sweat sometime hours before dawn. Pain ripping through my chest. Azriel once again pulling on the fucking bond with no regard for the feelings of despair he was shoving to me. This time was worse than usual, the waves of grief continuing to grow stronger and stronger all the time. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t deserve this. This was a bed of his own making and yet I still had to suffer beyond what I’d already been through. Sleeping through it was futile and the room’s darkness began to suffocate me.

I padded from my room to a common area outside of the suites, sat before the fireplace and worked on breathing through it.

Though I tried my best to remain quiet, Eris apparently had a sharp sense of hearing as he wandered into the room, seating himself on the floor beside me. If I hadn’t been in such a sorry state, perhaps I would have noticed the low slung gray sweatpants and broad muscled chest of the half-naked High Lord- no, friend - beside me.

He took my hand. “Hey, fox, look at me.” I lifted my gaze to his. “You’ve got this. Breathe for me.” I took a shallow breath. “Can you breathe deeper for me, little one?” He placed a hand on my shoulder while the other remained on my hand. I took a deeper breath and let it out slowly.

“Good girl.”

Eris sat with me in silence on a plush couch once my breathing steadied. Still too worked up to fall back asleep, I nestled myself against Eris’ chest while his fingers ran through my hair in soothing, repetitive strokes.

It was hours later that I awoke, finding that I’d fallen asleep on him. I tried shifting away slowly but a sleeping Eris only held his arm around me tighter as I pulled. We slept like that a while longer.

The rest of the trip went by uneventfully. We discussed further trade options and Eris spent the evenings working with me on how to close off the bond to Azriel’s feelings. While I was already excellent at shutting down sending my feelings down the bond, cutting off his feelings was what I needed help with. By the end of the stay I could only feel his emotions slightly.

I expressed my gratitude to Eris who only waived off my thanks. “Anyone would have done it.” Yet he was the only one who tried. What I didn’t tell Eris was that as Azriel’s end of the bond silenced and the depths of my soul went from overflowing to filled with contentment, my thoughts began drifting to happier things, drifted to him.

Front porch and one more kiss. It doesn't make sense to anybody else.

The fifth month after I left, my grandparents held an outdoor feast for our family and friends in celebration of a holiday of one of the lesser Summer gods they worshipped.

It was far from a religious event. There was always wine, dancing, and lively conversation at these celebrations with none of the boring sermons that typically came with such events.

I invited Eris, and to my delight he came. My drunken sister made plenty of comments over how pretty of a pair of “friends” we made, with overemphasis on the word. My sweet, protective nephew took to Eris right away, deciding that after what Azriel put me through, anyone was better than him. He had no tolerance for cheating or sympathy for adulterers from the time he was old enough to understand what it meant and that his father had cheated on my sister during her pregnancy (real stand up guy) though my sister was so far out of his league that he’d have to reach the stars to find someone better. Obviously she’d left him immediately and she and my nephew were better off for it.

My family tried their best and failed miserably to act normal with the High Lord of the Autumn Court in their presence. Fortunately, Eris paid no mind and had won everyone over by the end of the night.

Despite his aversion to the sand, Eris accepted my invitation to camp on the beach so we could enjoy my favorite part of the night, the fireworks shooting off over the bay.

As the finale approached, I pouted.

“I hate when they end.”

Gesturing toward himself, Eris replied. “It’s a good thing you have a High Lord at your disposal to light up the night any time you wish.”

Before I could reprimand him for the crude comment, he began shooting small orbs of fire toward the water in a rainbow of colors.

My eyes sparkled watching the vibrant flares. Soon enough the orbs into butterflies of fire flying through the air, some circling around me. One brushed my cheek and there was no pain, just a gentle flutter.

“That’s… Just wow, that’s incredible, Eris!”

He gave a shrug of nonchalance in return.

“I bet you do that for all the ladies, don’t you?”

Eris looked me in the eyes, something unreadable in them.

“Only the ones I want to kiss.”

A moment passed before I realized that he was entirely serious.

And that I WANTED to kiss him.

So I did.

We kissed under the stars. It was a hard, passionate kiss, our shared breaths riddled with desperation, a profession of the unspoken words between us, “I’ve been waiting for this.”

And when we eventually pulled apart, I looked into his eyes with a smile, genuine, full of adoration, and Eris gently grasped the back of my head, pulling me into another searing kiss.

We shared many more before dawn.

You can’t undo a fall like this.

When Eris returned to the Autumn Court, I tried feeling any remorse for what we’d done. I was technically still a mated female, though I’d left and due to Azriel’s infidelity nobody expected me to honor the bond.

The guilt never came.

Eris had to travel so I wasn’t able to see him for the next couple weeks but we wrote back and forth often through enchanted notes. Curiosity or concern must have gotten the best of him because eventually he asked:

“Do you regret it?”

I knew exactly what he referred to.

“I regret many things, Eris. None of which pertain to you.”

I sent the letter to him with confidence. I did not regret a single thing about the night our lips collided on the beach.

“Thank the Mother, because I need to kiss you again.”

Heat radiated through me at his admission.

But then reality struck. He was the High Lord of the Autumn Court. I was the - separated, yes, but still - the mate of the Night Court’s Spymaster.

“Eris, I love spending time with you and will never regret it. You’ve helped me heal in ways I will never be able to repay you for. But this… how can this work? It’s messy.”

I sent the letter. My own heart crushing at the words. I didn’t want this to end but I couldn’t risk it going further just for reality to come crashing down on us.

Some time passed, the unease in my gut growing when his response appeared.

“If I wanted easy, I’d have married the daughter of some Autumn Lord. Nothing about my past has been easy and despite what some may believe, nothing worth having has come easily to me. Every second spent with you is worth it. Do not, Y/N, doubt that for one single moment. And perhaps this is crazy, but I would not want it any other way.”

It was that moment that I knew I wanted, I needed Eris as more than a friend.

“Then let’s be crazy, Eris Vanserra.”

I don't want "good" and I don't want "good enough"

The thing about immortality is that six months can bring more change than six decades or even centuries.

Six months ago I would have never dreamed that my mate would take the life we’d built over the years and tear it into shreds with those once sacred, beautiful scarred hands that I held reverently. The hands that placed the lovely mating band crafted from one of his own siphons on my finger after he’d made his vows, the hands that lovingly caressed my bare thighs through restless nights until sleep took me, hands that held me pressed to his chest and wiped away the tears of grief after yet another failed fertility cycle.

Those hands that held another and damned it all, the hands that came home and stroked my hair as pretty lies fell from his mouth, the hands that took my glass heart and dropped it.

I especially wouldn’t have dreamed that six months later I would be laying in the bed of the High Lord of the Autumn Court with his strong, warm hands holding me like this heart of mine that he’d forged anew was the most delicate, precious possession in his keep.

I want "can't sleep, can't breathe without your love"

We’d spent the night together making love. The kind of love making that shifts something intrinsic within a person, the type where no matter what happens, a piece of you is forever changed. It was more than just giving my body to him, it was a claiming of the soul.

We lay in bed all morning, his long fingers tracing along the arch of my bare back as he pressed soft kisses along my shoulder and neck. Between kisses, his low voice whispered quiet hopes and dreams for the future.

I was just about to speak those three words that I’d only ever spoken to one other male when a loud knock came on the chamber door.

“For fuck’s sake” Eris muttered before shouting “Come back later!”

“We apologize, High Lord but this is urgent.” a muffled male voice replied through the closed door.

Eris growled, shifting out of bed and throwing on his sweatpants not bothering with a shirt. I enjoyed the view.

“This better be worth my while, lads.” Eris hissed in a tone that conveyed “I’m very fucking inconvenienced right now but understand that you are doing your duty as my sentries.”

“Apologies again, High Lord, but we’ve….”

The male outside the door cleared his throat in attempt to communicate that the matter should be discussed privately.

“It’s fine.” Eris grumbled. “Just get on with it.”

“We, well, High Lord, we’ve apprehended the Shadowsinger. He was making an attempt to infiltrate the keep.”

———————————

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious

[animezinglife]

When you remember that Tarquin has no mate (that we know of) and that his mate would basically live a life of being rich and lounging on the beach:

[velidewrites]

A Court of Thorns and Roses Locations

⤷ ADRIATA

For @ladyelain

[small-z24]

One-Shot: Bargain in the Shadows Pt. 1

Summary:

Y/N, a prisoner, strikes a bargain with Azriel to share information about a dark prophecy. Navigating mistrust and hostility, she hides a critical secret about her role in the prophecy, determined to find a way to save Prythian without sacrificing herself.

Word Count: 2328

Warnings: This one-shot contains themes of imprisonment, tension, and deception. It features complex relationships, flirtation, and manipulation. Reader discretion is advised.

Y/N paced the small, dimly lit cell in the Night Court’s prison. The stone walls were cold and unyielding, but she refused to let her discomfort show. She knew they wanted information from her—information about a prophecy she had stumbled upon. And she had every intention of using that information to her advantage.

The door to her cell creaked open, and she turned to see a tall, dark figure standing in the doorway. Azriel, the spymaster of the Night Court, entered with an air of quiet authority. His shadows whispered around him, as if alive and sensing the tension in the room.

“Y/N,” he greeted, his voice calm but firm. “I’m here to ask you some questions.”

She crossed her arms, leaning against the wall with a smirk. “I figured as much. And what makes you think I’ll just spill my secrets?”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he maintained his composure. “Because it’s in your best interest. The information you have could help prevent a catastrophe.”

Y/N chuckled, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, I’m sure it could. But what’s in it for me?”

He took a step closer, his shadows curling around him protectively. “You’re currently a prisoner in the Night Court. Cooperate, and we can make your stay more... comfortable.”

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not willing to show it. “Comfortable, how?”

Azriel met her gaze, his expression unreadable. “You’ll be moved to the House of Wind. You’ll have freedom within its walls, access to the city, and a chance to prove yourself.”

Y/N considered his offer, her mind racing. The House of Wind was a far cry from this dank cell. It would give her a chance to gather more information, to plan her next move. But she needed to maintain the upper hand.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice laced with defiance. “I’ll tell you what I know. But I want guarantees.”

Azriel inclined his head slightly. “Name your terms.”

She straightened, her eyes locking onto his. “I want your word that I won’t be harmed. And if I help you, I want a full pardon and safe passage out of the Night Court once this is over.”

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. “You have my word. Now, tell me about the prophecy.”

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. “The prophecy speaks of a great darkness that will spread across Prythian. It mentions a power that can stop it, hidden in the heart of the Night Court. But the details are vague.”

Azriel listened intently, his expression focused. “Go on.”

“There’s a key,” she continued. “A relic that can unlock this power. Without it, the darkness cannot be stopped. The prophecy says the key is hidden in a place of shadows and secrets.”

Azriel’s eyes flickered with recognition. “The Court of Nightmares.”

She nodded. “Precisely. But it’s not just about finding the key. The prophecy also mentions a chosen one who can wield this power. Someone with a connection to the shadows.”

He frowned, his mind racing. “A connection to the shadows...”

Y/N watched him carefully, sensing his unease. “Do you know who it might be?”

Azriel shook his head slowly. “I have some ideas, but nothing concrete. We need to find this key and the chosen one quickly.”

She smirked, her confidence returning. “Looks like you need me more than I need you, then.”

He met her gaze, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “For now. But remember, Y/N, this is a delicate alliance. Betray us, and the consequences will be severe.”

She pushed off the wall, stepping closer to him. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, get me out of this cell and into that House of Wind you promised.”

Azriel nodded and turned to leave, gesturing for her to follow. As they walked through the winding corridors of the prison, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of exhilaration. She had struck a bargain with the Night Court’s spymaster, and now she had a chance to prove her worth.

They arrived at the House of Wind, its grandeur and beauty a stark contrast to the prison she had just left. Azriel led her to a comfortable room, complete with a large bed and a view of the city below.

“This will be your room,” he said, his tone still businesslike. “You’ll have freedom within the House and the city, but you’ll be accompanied by guards at all times.”

Y/N nodded, taking in her new surroundings. “Fair enough. Now, let’s get to work.”

Azriel’s gaze softened slightly, and he extended his hand. “Welcome to the Night Court, Y/N.”

She shook his hand, a spark of understanding passing between them. “Thank you, Azriel. Let’s hope this alliance is a fruitful one.”

As they began their work, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement. The stakes were high, but she thrived in situations like this. And with Azriel by her side, she knew they had a fighting chance to unravel the prophecy and stop the impending darkness.

In the shadows of the Night Court, an unlikely partnership had been forged. And together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Y/N settled into the House of Wind with surprising ease. The grandeur of the place was impressive, and the freedom to move around—albeit with guards—was a far cry from the dank cell she had previously occupied. However, the real challenge was about to begin: meeting the rest of the Night Court.

Azriel led her into the grand dining room where Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, Mor, and Amren were gathered. Their conversations halted as she entered, and six pairs of eyes turned to scrutinize her. Y/N held her head high, meeting their gazes with an unwavering confidence.

“This is Y/N,” Azriel introduced her, his voice even. “She’ll be staying with us for the time being and assisting with some... delicate matters.”

Rhysand stood, his presence commanding. “Welcome, Y/N. I trust Azriel has explained the terms of your stay.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a sly smile. “He has. And I must say, it’s quite the upgrade from my previous accommodations.”

Feyre, standing beside Rhysand, eyed Y/N warily. “We’ll see if you can be trusted,” she said, her tone cool.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I suppose that’s fair. Trust is earned, after all.”

Cassian’s gaze was hard, his muscles tensed. Mor and Amren looked equally unimpressed. Y/N reveled in their hostility, knowing that it only made her more determined to find a way out of her predicament.

Rhysand gestured to an empty seat beside him. “Join us for dinner, Y/N. We have much to discuss.”

She glided to the chair, her movements graceful and deliberate. “Thank you, Rhysand,” she purred, sitting down and crossing her legs. She made sure her tone was a touch too familiar, a touch too flirty, just to see Feyre’s reaction.

Feyre’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, her fingers tightening around her fork.

Throughout the meal, Y/N engaged in light conversation, her charm and wit on full display. She caught Rhysand’s eye several times, her flirtatious remarks growing bolder. “You know, Rhysand, you’re quite different from the stories I’ve heard about the High Lord of the Night Court,” she said, her voice playful.

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh? And what stories are those?”

Y/N leaned in slightly, her voice lowering. “Stories of a ruthless, cunning ruler. But you seem rather... hospitable.”

Feyre’s jaw tightened, and Y/N could feel the tension in the air. She reveled in it, her eyes flickering to Azriel, who watched her with an unreadable expression.

“And you, Azriel,” Y/N said, turning her attention to him. “You’ve been such a gracious host. I’m almost starting to like it here.”

Azriel’s eyes darkened, and his shadows curled around him protectively. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he replied, his voice a warning.

Y/N’s smile widened. “Oh, I won’t. But I must say, your shadows seem to have taken quite a liking to me.” She reached out, her fingers dancing through the shadows that lingered around her.

The shadows responded, swirling around her hand in a playful manner. Azriel’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, clearly uncomfortable.

Cassian couldn’t hold back any longer. “What exactly do you know about this prophecy?” he demanded, his tone accusatory.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, her eyes gleaming. “All in good time, Cassian. I’m here to help, remember?”

Mor scoffed, her eyes filled with disdain. “You’re here because we need information. Don’t think for a second that we trust you.”

Y/N met her gaze, unflinching. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

After dinner, Rhysand suggested they move to the sitting room to continue their discussions. Y/N followed, still playing with Azriel’s shadows as they moved. The shadows seemed to enjoy her presence, much to Azriel’s dismay.

Once they were seated, Rhysand leaned forward. “We need to understand the specifics of the prophecy and the key. The Court of Nightmares is a dangerous place, and we can’t afford any mistakes.”

Y/N nodded, her expression turning serious. “The prophecy is vague, but it’s clear about one thing: the key is hidden in a place of shadows and secrets. The Court of Nightmares fits that description perfectly.”

“And the chosen one?” Feyre asked, her voice soft but firm.

Y/N glanced at Azriel, a knowing smile on her lips. “The chosen one is someone with a deep connection to the shadows. Someone who can wield them as easily as breathing.”

All eyes turned to Azriel, who stiffened under their scrutiny. “I’ll do whatever it takes to find this key and stop the impending darkness,” he said, his voice resolute.

Y/N’s gaze softened slightly, masking the turmoil inside her. She knew the truth—that she was the chosen one. The prophecy demanded a great sacrifice, one she wasn’t ready to make. She needed time to find another way, to avoid the fate that awaited her.

As the meeting continued, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this prophecy than she had let on. She needed to find a crack in the Night Court’s unity, a way to secure her freedom once and for all.

But for now, she would play along, enjoying the game of cat and mouse she had started. And with every flirtatious remark, every playful touch of Azriel’s shadows, she felt herself inching closer to her goal.

The Night Court members didn’t trust her, and she didn’t care. She had a plan, and she would see it through to the end. Even if it meant breaking a few hearts along the way.

The days turned into weeks, and Y/N found herself growing more accustomed to life in the House of Wind. The Night Court members remained wary of her, and she relished their discomfort. Her interactions with Azriel became a constant dance of tension and curiosity.

One evening, as Y/N was practicing with Azriel’s shadows in the courtyard, Rhysand approached her. His demeanor was relaxed, but Y/N knew better than to let her guard down.

“Enjoying yourself?” Rhysand asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Y/N looked up, her fingers still playing with the shadows. “They seem to like me. Unlike the rest of your court.”

Rhysand chuckled. “You’re not making it easy for them to trust you.”

She shrugged, her expression indifferent. “Trust is earned, remember?”

He studied her for a moment, his eyes piercing. “What are you really after, Y/N? You’re hiding something.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face neutral. “I’ve told you everything I know about the prophecy.”

Rhysand’s gaze didn’t waver. “Have you? Or are you keeping something back?”

Y/N felt a chill run down her spine. He was getting too close to the truth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rhysand’s expression softened slightly, but his eyes remained sharp. “We need you, Y/N. If there’s something you’re not telling us, it could mean the difference between victory and defeat.”

She met his gaze, her resolve hardening. “I’ve given you everything you need. Now it’s up to you to use it.”

As Rhysand walked away, Y/N felt the weight of her secret pressing down on her. She had to find another way, a way to fulfill the prophecy without sacrificing herself.

Later that night, as she wandered the halls, she encountered Azriel. He was standing by a window, his gaze distant. The moonlight cast a soft glow over his features, highlighting the shadows that seemed to cling to him.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked, approaching him.

Azriel turned to face her, his expression guarded. “Just thinking.”

She leaned against the window frame, her eyes searching his. “About the prophecy?”

He nodded, his eyes darkening. “It’s weighing on all of us. The idea that one of us might have to make a great sacrifice... it’s not easy to accept.”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words. She wanted to tell him the truth, to share the burden she carried. But she couldn’t—she wasn’t ready to face the consequences.

Instead, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. “We’ll find a way, Azriel. Together.”

He looked down at her, his gaze softening. “I hope you’re right.”

As they stood there, the silence between them filled with unspoken words, Y/N felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to change the prophecy’s outcome.

But for now, she would continue to play her part, biding her time and searching for a way to save herself—and everyone else.

In the shadows of the Night Court, an unlikely partnership had been forged. And together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, even if it meant confronting the darkest truths about themselves.

[ladydelena]

SO. As much as I don't necessarily care for Tarquin to visit night court because he's perfect and can be happy in Summer Court without the drama, I do think if he visited he would wear night black to honor the court.

And can I just say I think seeing his deep richhh sunkissed skin, starlight bright, near white hair, and vibrant swirling turquise eyes complimented by a black tunic? The gasp I would gusp to see it- just once.

[chanelslibrary]

🌙𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰🌙

A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️/5

In the sequel to ACOTAR, Feyre deals with the aftermath of her actions under the mountain including her new life as a High Fae. She confronts her new powers, haunting nightmares, and her bargain with Rhysand all while planning a wedding to Tamlin, and in the background a dark threat is heading to Prythian.

ACOMAF is a really good fantasy book! I certainly liked it more than ACOTAR lol. It was great getting to know more of Feyre’s character as well as her sisters. I also really loved seeing more of Prythian—the Summer and Night Courts—and their people and how they differed from the Spring Court! Although, my biggest pet peeve was the lack of diversity in this book. SJM definitely could have added more POC, and I felt like she “tried” to make the Illyrians racially diverse but in a half assed way. The adjectives used to describe their skin, hair, etc. was so vague *eyeroll*

Anyway, I think overall this book had great action that built on the foundation of ACOTAR and the romance was authentic. The background characters were well written that you were invested in their stories too—hello Azriel!😘 I will be continuing this series especially now that SJM announced another book soon

Read if you love:

⚔️Romantasy

🧚Faeries

🖤Enemies to lovers

🐾Fated mates

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒Found family

[therealmissmagoo2]

Tarquin - High Lord of the Summer Court - ACOTAR series by Sarah J. Maas

Tray Files Skin N20 Darker Colors Fantasy Eye Preset/Eyebrows 4m/44 Lip Preset N19 Eyes OddEye Teeth Vampire Hair Base Hair Extras Hair 1 (free version here) Hair 2 (free version here) Eyelashes

Look 1: Top Pants Boots Look 2: Top Pants Boots - same as above Look 3: Outfit (free version here)

Optional: Fairies vs. Witches Mod for "Fae" powers

[oldfilmsflicker]

This week I am recommending a new body horror showbiz satire, a semi-autobiographical Sundance-winning coming-of-age film, a dysfunctional family dramedy, the 50th anniversary celebration of Films by Women/Chicago ’74, and a short Palestinian documentary.

[lolzqa]

Noah Walker and Amelia Rae Rose | When in Rome by Sarah Adams

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 3

Storm Warning

Azriel Eris x Reader

We’ve got a time jump and are swapping points of view for this chapter y’all.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

3 months later

Eris Vanserra hated the Summer Court. The humidity anywhere outside of the temperature regulated zones of Adriata, the way his hair clung to his forehead and caused curls to form in his otherwise immaculate hair, but most of all it was just insulting to be so bothered by the heat itself when he quite literally had fire in his veins. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

Tarquin strode alongside Eris through the open air lower levels of his keep, three of his guards and two of Eris’ own flanking them several feet behind, one could almost forget they were there if not for the “click clack” of feet echoing through the halls. Eris would be lying if he said he didn’t have to try very hard to focus on the mundane talk of trade routes and port authorities instead of getting lost to the sounds of crashing waves and gulls outside.

Tarquin broached the riveting subject of tariffs on imports from the continent as the first rumble of thunder boomed in the distance. Now that - Eris enjoyed that aspect of the court. Autumn had no shortage of rain but the turbulence of storms often mirrored his own inner peril - made him feel less alone in the world. And truthfully, there was nothing like taking cover from the rain and listening to the rumble outside, watching the lightning dance across the skies as the loud cracks of thunder commanded the attention of anyone within earshot.

“Have your people felt the same effects, High Lord?” Tarquin broke Eris from yet another drift of his thoughts. He really should have brought a secretary or advisor along for this meeting.

Sparing Eris from the embarrassment of asking Tarquin to repeat his last three minutes of speech a cry broke through the hall. The battle cry of a…. Child?

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Followed by a yelp of “ow!”

Eris’ head jerked as he found himself drifting toward the action.

Turning a corner he found a woman laying on the ground, curled into a ball - a child of no more than 10 with a large jagged stick standing over her with his chest puffed out, pure smug joy on his face.

Eris looked to Tarquin who only grinned with satisfaction. Eris gaped before Tarquin quietly whispered, “just watch.”

The woman didn’t move. The child’s look of satisfaction slowly turning to that of concern as she lay there. He bent over the woman placing a hand on her shoulder, his brows knit together. “Lady L/N?”

So focused on the woman on the ground before him, the boy didn’t notice her arm slowly sneak around him and “Oof!” The kid let out a startled breath as she grabbed his ankle, ripping it out from beneath him, effectively leaving the child on his behind.

The female lept up into a crouching position. Her tanned, muscled thighs pushing her up to stand effortlessly. “And that, little ones, is why you never let your guard down with an adversary.”

Eris turned, wondering how he could have missed the group of children sitting on the other end of the room watching the scene unfold.

The boy remained on his behind, hands resting on his forehead in defeat.

“Hey-“ She reached a hand out to help him up. “You did a great job. You quite literally swept me off my feet! Nobody has done that in quite some time.” She paused, sadness twisting her features as if her own words struck her before shifting back to that of a proud instructor. “In fact - I have something for you.”

She reached into the pocket of her calf-length, flowy pants and reaching handing him a shell. “Add this to your leather strap.” She tapped a leather bracelet on his wrist, one shell already strung on it. “You did great, kid.” The boy gave her a genuine smile as he returned to the rest of his classmates.

Eris shifted involuntarily. How much had he wished for someone to say those words to him when he was a child?

Tarquin chuckled “An excellent motivator. Shells. Who knew?”

Eris gave a small smile - brief but genuine before adjusting back into his usual mask. The instructor turned to face them and cauldron damn him if she wasn’t the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. Radiant skin that came from plenty of time in the sun, silky hair that practically begged to have fingers run through it, a soft and curvy yet toned build. A body that told him she indulged herself in what she enjoyed but was active enough to define her plush features, likely blessed with great genetics - lithe yet perfectly squeezable in all his favorite places.

“High Lord.” Her voice carried to him like an ocean breeze. She bowed her head in a respectful greeting, long lashes fluttering. “How may I be of service?”

“Lady L/N,” Tarquin beamed. “It’s a pleasure to introduce you to Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

Her brow puzzled for a brief moment before bowing her head again. “It’s an honor to meet you, High Lord.”

“A pleasure to meet you as well, lady.” Eris replied sincerely, meeting her bright eyes. “I didn’t realize Tarquin was hoarding such beauty within his keep.”

“We have many treasures in our court, High Lord. She is one of our brightest.”

Rather than blushing, the female held her head high, giving a polite “Thank you, High Lord.”

“We must be getting to lunch now. Have a pleasant rest of your class, Lady L/N.” He turned to the children with a stern look “And children, behave for her.” following the reminder with a smile and cheeky wink.

—————

It was hours later that Eris was released from meetings for the day. Unfortunately, there was still more to be discussed that would have to wait for tomorrow. Making the way to his guest suite, Eris found himself wondering about the instructor from earlier. Something about her felt vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.

After changing out of his stuffy clothes into something more befitting of the climate, Eris paced his room. He’d forgotten how much longer daylight lasted here than in his own court, with several hours remaining before dusk. He supposed he could brave the heat and take a stroll through the palace grounds, preferably without his entourage of guards.

Relieving the pair from their duties, Eris wandered through the gardens and toward a small grove of trees on the other side of the palace grounds. He could hear running water from a garden tributary that likely connected into the river that emptied into Adriata’s harbor.

Sauntering through the grove, he was pleased to find reprieve from the heat, the cool air wafting off of the stream and shade from the trees turning the grove into a private oasis. It wasn’t particularly trekked through. “Finally.” he thought to himself. A moment of peace.

Situating himself on an iron bench, Eris looked up, only to find that through a thicket of cattails, Lady L/N was standing on a rock upstream, eyes closed and balancing on one leg. Given her steady, intentional breathing he supposed she was meditating. It was odd - seeing her like this - strangely intimate to see someone in such an isolated state of catharsis, unaware of his own presence before her. The sun rays shone through cracks in the leaves, shrouding her in tiny fragments of light that made her tanned skin near golden. Her hair was wind blown from the breeze winding through the grove off the ocean, and she’d changed into a thin cotton sundress. Gods, maybe the Summer Court wasn’t so bad after all. The way it effortlessly flowed over her body perfectly accentuating her ample curves, and those tanned, toned legs - yeah, he should probably leave.

After momentary internal warring he began to stand but before he could sneak off, she gasped. Clutching her arms to her rib cage. “MOTHER FUCKER!” she screamed. Vulgar words coming from such a pretty mouth.

What an interesting method of meditation.

She took several breaths before resuming her position. Another minute went by when she audibly growled. “Bastard!!” She clutched herself again, keeling over. Finally she sat down on the rock, the hem of her dress soaking in the stream’s rippling water, and pressed her head into her hands. Eris thought she was crying.

He really should leave but - memories of his mother crying over the years flashed into his mind. All the years that she only had he or Lucien to console her, kindered spirits brought together by Beron’s casual cruelty. His other brothers being the emotionally void carbon copies of their father they were, paid no mind to their mother’s plight.

Yet still, he didn’t know her. She didn’t know him. She likely didn’t want him bothering her.

Against his better judgement, he found himself drawn in by her familiarity and approached. As he drew closer, he realized her sobs were not sobs at all. She was muttering the raunchiest, most vile slew of curses that he’d ever heard. Lucien would enjoy this female.

As he approached, she jerked her head up. The lovely, collected face from earlier twisted into one of contempt. He wondered if she knew that, that face was, well, adorable like a fierce little kitten. Although, something told him to tread carefully. She may look adorable but he’d bet good coin that her bite matched that of a lions.

“What do you want?” She spat.

Eris only smirked. “And here I thought you were a lady.”

Baiting her. Genius idea, Eris.

“Only within the palace.”

“You’re still on palace grounds.” Shrugging with the statement, Eris put his hands in his pockets - damn these Summer Court linens really were comfortable.

“Well, I was alone until you intruded.” she murmured, not meeting his eyes.

“Did you win Tarquin’s good graces with such manners?”

Her expression filled with ire as she looked up at him. “Did you take your throne by being such a prick?”

Eris couldn’t help but laugh at her bravado. This female either REALLY didn’t like him or truly didn’t care about consequences. “Ah, so you do know who I am.”

“You’re a High Lord. Of course I know-“

Her words cut off as she clutched her ribs again, tighter this time. A shudder escaping her. This time the pain seemed to last longer. And this time he could have sworn her voice cracked as she swore.

“Hey” Eris stepped into the creek, not bothering to step out of his sandals. Before he could hesitate he crouched down before her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe.”

The thing was, he recognized that pain well. It has been centuries but damn he remembered it so clearly.

“Breathe through it. Think of something that makes you smile.”

She clutched herself harder, shaking her head. “Think of the look on your student’s face when you gave him that shell today.”

She breathed in deeply this time instead of letting out another curse.

“Good. Hold for three beats.”

“Now let the breath out.”

She breathed out. “In again.” He instructed. She followed suit. “Now out.”

As her breath steadied, she met his eyes - momentarily soft, a little broken, before ire crossed them again.

“For fucks sake, High Lord.” She spat. “I came here to meditate. I know how to breathe.”

She sure as shit seemed to have forgotten how to for a moment there, but he kept that to himself.

He only let out a soft laugh.

“There she is.”

She scowled in return.

“So, Lady L/N” he began, standing and extending a hand to help her up.

“Y/N.” She interjected, taking his hand. “Call me Y/N.”

Y/N. Fitting, he thought. The kind of name a tropical storm would be given.

Wait. Y/N L/N. Oh, he knew exactly why she was so familiar now. No wonder she’d given him that puzzled look in the palace. And, if Eris recalled correctly, his brother actually was rather fond of her - in a friendly and platonic sort of way. Though in his tales of the Night Court he’d certainly never mentioned the fact that she looked like a gods damned deity.

He led her out of the creek, not quite ready to drop her delicate hand. “So, Y/N, tell me about this idiot mate that let the Summer Court’s brightest treasure go.”

She gaped, jaw dropping into a look of genuine shock. “How-“

“I had one too. I believe you know her.”

—————

Eris and Y/N spent hours talking in the grove. He gave her all the details of his mate, Morrigan. How it killed him to leave her that fated day. Had he touched her, his mate, Beron would have claimed her as Autumn Court property requiring a Blood Duel for the Night Court to retrieve her. Though, Beron would have ensured she never left unharmed. That aside, Eris didn’t want that blood on her hands, the blood of a blood duel or any battles over her. He didn’t want it on his hands either. It killed him to feel her pain down the bond starting from their forced engagement and through the torture her father had inflicted upon her, and the trauma that lingered thereafter. The gut-wrenching, immobilizing pain that only a mate could feel shooting through to them.

He never wanted her to feel that pain. If it hurt him that badly to only feel it down the bond, he couldn’t imagine the strife she’d felt. He wanted to run to her, to comfort her, to tell her everything he couldn’t risk saying. He was too young to face the ramifications from his father and he had his mother and Lucien to protect in those days. So he protected her in the only way he knew how to at the time. Through cold, calculated indifference. He still regretted it.

As time went on, the mask he wore became heavier and heavier, burying that bond deeper within himself. It took him until after the war with Hybern to finally lay it all out to her. Y/N never knew any of that part of the story. She knew Mor and Eris had made amends but nothing of their bond, and she knew that Mor was happily committed to Emerie, an Illyrian female now. He was happy for his mate, as happy as a rejected mate could be.

Eris never claimed to have been in the right. In fact, what he did to Mor was wrong. The way he spoke to her as if she was no more than a common whore when facing her in front of his father at the High Lord’s meeting. Yes, it was an act but it was never okay. He’d live with that for the rest of his days. His apologies to her since never felt like enough.

Y/N empathized with Eris. He could see that she was torn but her gaze toward him softened although, never into that of pity. He liked that about her.

She shared the story of her mating bond with Azriel. And how the waves of anger and grief down the bond had increased in strength recently as she had continued healing. She laughed bitterly at the typical trajectory of females in her situation getting better over time while unfaithful males seemed to spiral as it went on. She didn’t say who he had cheated on her with but Eris had his suspicions. The Shadowsinger apparently had a thing for Vanserra mates. She laughed and cried over the hours they talked. They’d eventually ended up back in a palace seating area for a drink.

Eris hadn’t been so open with someone like this in so long that it felt foreign. Hell, opening up always felt unnatural for him. Perhaps he was stupid for sharing with her. After all, mating bonds could make people do crazy things. She could always take Azriel back and share the details of his little sob stories with the Night Court.

She’d occasionally let out a sharp breath as small jolts of emotion came rolling in. It was nearing dusk when she finally huffed, slapping her hands on her thighs saying, “Enough! This tea is weak. I need something stronger.” Pouring them each a glass of brandy, and another, and another.

As the conversation shifted from the heavier topics to lighter ones, Eris let it slip that he wasn’t fond of the summer court and found all of the sand and humidity to be unpleasant at best.

Her inhibitions were down and if Eris were being honest with himself, his were too. He hadn’t drank much since becoming a High Lord though he often felt the need for a stiff drink. No, there was too much work to be done and he was still getting his own inner circle acclimated. Trust was harder to give in the Autumn Court, especially after being under his father’s rule for so long. There were plenty of good people in the castle but just as many were corrupted under Beron’s rule. Weeding them out was consuming more of his time than anticipated.

Somehow, after their fourth drink, Y/N dragged him out onto the beach, determined to show him all the merits of the crusty, sand-infested shores.

Admittedly, her joy was contagious but he was going to make her work for any positive reaction.

“Okay!” She eagerly squealed. “First - sand castles! Have you ever built one?”

“I live in a castle.” Eris feigned boredom, inspecting his nails. “It seems unnecessary to build one out of… that.” his nose scrunched up, lip curling into a sneer as he gestured to the sand surrounding them.

“Ughhh.” Her eyes rolled back into her head as her little sun dress blew in the wind. And damn if he wouldn’t love to see her eyes going back into her head like that in other circumstances.

He was a gentlemale but a male nevertheless.

“Being High Lord doesn’t mean you have to be such a bore, but fine… No sand castles. Maybe next time!”

Next time. He liked the thought of that. My how far she’d come from practically snarling at him just this morning.

“Look!” She squealed, bringing her hands to her chest and clapping with excitement. “Dolphins! Now I know you don’t have those in the Autumn Court, Eris Vanserra.”

Fuck, his name sounded so good coming off of her lips.

He couldn’t resist smiling at her enthusiasm and then at the dolphins. They swam so peacefully in a pod through the harbor. One even let a young water wraith trail alongside it as a hand carefully gripped onto its dorsal fin as the creature pulled her along.

“The wraiths and dolphins coexist well together.” Y/N mused wistfully. “There’s a common misconception that they are territorial due to food supply but they have plenty in the harbor.”

She smiled softly. “The younger wraiths tend to bond with them and the dolphins have even been known to protect them from certain dangers.”

As the pair continued walking along the shore, the conversation occasionally faltered as Y/N would stare off distantly, as if looking for something that wasn’t there.

His heart ached for her. From what he’d gathered during their talk, she’d left the Shadowsinger, but the heart is slow to heal after losing a mate in any capacity.

Eris nudged her with his shoulder. “Hey little minx, where’d you go?”

Coming back to reality she halted. “Oh! Oh my gods. The sun is setting and you have to come with me! Hurry.”

She grabbed his wrist and he didn’t hesitate to follow along as she all but dragged him down the beach. “Hurry! We’ll miss them!”

They ran until reaching a secluded inlet of the bay. They climbed up a small rocky ledge where she sat, dangling her feet over the edge. “There’s an underwater cave-“ she breathed heavy, catching her breath. “here, beneath us and every night-“ another pause to breathe. “something magical happens as the sun sets.”

Eris, catching his own breath, waited patiently for more details but she only dropped a small pebble into the water and as she did, a rainbow of luminescent fish rippled to life below the surface. There had to be thousands of them, leisurely swimming out of the cave as if they were just waking up. Shades of bright pink, green, blue, orange, and purple lit up the small inlet. Eris was awestruck, so awestruck in fact that he didn’t hesitate planting his ass next to her on the crusty sand-coated ledge.

With a wave of her wrist she pulled a bottle of rum out from the pocket realm, tugging the cork out with her teeth and taking a swig, then handing it over to him.

They sat in silence as the remaining fish left the inlet and the remaining colors of the sunset disappeared into night. Clouds began rolling in as they drank and began chatting again. Much like that morning, thunder rolled in but this time he was disappointed to hear it. He didn’t want the evening to end, wasn’t ready to let her go quite yet.

He wished he’d had a warning before the ocean winds blew this wild, beautiful storm into his life that morning. Something to brace himself against the inevitable fallout of the precarious situation he found himself in. It was a storm he was prepared to ride out and he had a feeling it would be worth whatever debris she’d leave him with.

The base of the distant thunder rumbling, the cymbal-like crash of waves on the shore, and singing of the creatures of summer nights blended together into a beautiful melody that flowed through Eris. Quickly he stood, extending a hand to her. “Dance with me, Y/N?”

She froze, that distant look crossing her eyes again for a second. He braced himself for her decline but the life returned to her eyes as a smile graced her full lips. She accepted his hand and didn’t hesitate as he tucked her into his chest, her warmth and scent lulling him into a state of bliss.

No, Eris Vanserra did not hate the Summer Court at all.

————————

This was a long one and I know it wasn’t from our girls POV but I hope you all enjoyed it 🥹 Stay tuned for more! Her story is not done yet.

Tags:

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study

[desolationfires]

A Court of Thorns and Roses

𓇼 Cresseida 𓇼

[animezinglife]

Kallias and Viviane visiting the Summer Court

[velidewrites]

ACOTAR CHARACTERS || TARQUIN

For @ladyelain

[draguta]

i've literally never done a fancasting in my life, but can we just take a second to talk about how jesse williams would make the perfect tarquin?

like, excuse me while i go and manifest this.

[missams53]

2023 August TBR

Hello Readers: Can you believe that August is right around the corner? As I am typing up, I still have a few days of July left, but I decided it would be the perfect time to create August’s TBR. I will not be doing my wrap-up for July since I still have a few more days, and I would like to push myself to finish a couple more books.  Let us get started with this TBR.  Bridge of Souls by Victoria…

[bookandcover]

I grabbed a copy of this from my school on the very last day because I felt such a longing to start summer off with a light-hearted read. That feels like the definition of summer to me: lounging on the lawn, reading some silly fantasy romance book that is both mindless and deeply engaging.

I got out of the habit of reading this genre, so I'm wildly behind the times. This was a fun and perfect choice to kick off my summer.

Basically every trope of “fairy lore” that I could think of appears in this book, including...

~The poor girl protagonist (with no mother) is snatched away by a magic man, who is a blend of beast/human (reminiscent of Beauty and the Beast, particularly in terms of the time limit on Tamlin’s curse and the conditions for breaking it: a human needs to tell him she loves him, unprompted). 

~In spite of the curse, Tamlin lets Feyre go on the verge of breaking the curse because he loves her. 

~All Tamlin’s servants and the members of his court are bound up in the curse too, unable to speak of it. 

~The concept of mates (fated loves) hovers on the fringes of the novel with the promise that perhaps Feyre and Tamlin are mates (as Tamlin’s parents were). Tamlin’s heart of stone, which is hinted at and, later, becomes pivotal in the plot seems a familiar echo of the logic inherent in faerie magic. 

~Faeries cast glamours (a form of magic), so that all is not as it appears to the human eye. 

~Faeries and humans coexist according to the rules set down in an ancient treaty that keeps the peace between them, although stories abound among each group about the cruelty and inhumanity of the other. ~In his effervescent spring court, Tamlin draws Feyre in with his glorious study/library, and he gives her a place to paint, pursuing her passion. 

~Each spring, Tamlin restores his lands and the magic of the earth through a passionate lovemaking ritual. While this type of faerie lore might not coexist with the logic of, say, Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, it feels familiar to faerie lore that encompasses earth magic rituals and the permeable boundary between the human and faerie realms (like Wildwood Dancing). Unlike the spring festivities, Feyre is fully welcomed into the midsummer’s solstice festivities, which—as she danced and Tamlin fiddled—put me in mind of the beloved book The Folk Keeper. 

~As I read, I was also reminded several times of the book East, which draws on the Norwegian myth “East of the Sun, West of the Moon,” particularly when Feyre must complete three tasks or solve a riddle in order to win Tamlin back and break his curse.

Yes, this book is overflowing with tropes. It feels familiar, like a scrambled recombination of stories you’ve heard before. Yet, in this familiarity, it is joyful and energetic. The writing is good, not in a literary sense, but in the sense that the words themselves fade into the background and I inhabit the world, particularly that of the Spring Court, which felt tangible in every scene. Hunting and patrolling with Lucien, the woods with the Naga and the Suriel, the pond of starlight, the expectancy of Fire Night, the luscious joy of midsummer’s eve—all these depictions of Feyre’s experiences felt real and inhabited. I love the luscious descriptions in this book; the 400-layered cake effect and the scene-setting is sensual and powerful—I felt swept up in the momentum, tone, and visuals of this book, even though it is not literary writing. 

In a similar “fading into background” effect, Feyre is an innocuous heroine. She’s spunky, generic, and practical enough to feel partially invisible, like a vehicle that allows the reader to directly experience her world (a kind of reader “self-insert”). But she is also caring, reasonable, and sympathetic as a character, and so we readers hope for her triumph and long-term happiness. In the final section of the novel when Feyre is Under the Hill, battling through Amarantha’s seemingly impossible tasks, she felt the most embodied and individualized as a character. Interestingly, this dovetailed with a pivot in the book to the development of Rhysand’s character (as Tamlin fades into the background, stoically trapped by Amarantha’s side) and Rhysand’s interactions with Feyre took center stage as he played a key role in discreetly helping her through the tasks, redirecting Amarantha’s attention at critical moments, and—setting up the next book in the series—introducing the agreement between himself and Feyre in which Feyre trades him a week at his court every month for the rest of her life (later, eternity, as she is saved by being granted immortality, which put me in mind of the faeries in The Two Princess of Bamarre) in exchange for his help healing her.

This was funny timing in the plot because right as the Under the Hill section of the book began, I’d wondered what could possibly happen in a sequel (even though I knew there were several more books in the series). It seemed that this plot was headed toward such a “neat” ending of Feyre rescuing Tamlin and restoring the power balance among the High Lords of Prythian. I supposed that there was more to play out with the threatening king across the sea in Hybern, but it seemed that Feyre would have resolved the heart of her romance plot line, as she maintained her “established relationship” with Tamlin. And then Rhysand suddenly received his screen time. I can imagine that Rhysand must be a fan favorite…who doesn’t love a morally-grey mysterious hot boy who seems strangely helpful, yet with motivates we can’t yet explain? Tamlin and Feyre’s romance does seem best fit to the “Disney” end of the faerie lore spectrum (despite a few steamy scenes) with a kind of “fated mates” perfect couple energy. I know I would be intrigued by a Rhysand love plot line, yet I wondered if Feyre’s simple characterization would continue to feel better fit for Tamlin? It’s not that she’s not strong and fierce; it’s that she’s somehow deeply normal (even in spite of a troubled youth, which she has responded to with self-sufficiency and selflessness) and forthright. I wonder how she will continue to evolve as a character. 

This was such a good choice for my first summer read because it made me feel young again—sprinting through a book, I could read the whole series! The infinite imaginative spin out, the slowing down of time…dream-like summers, like those in this book. As I read, I felt aware of my enjoyment of it, a bit ironically engaged, but also genuinely engaged, thinking about the plot when I was not reading. This book became the backdrop to my early summer adventures, as I flew to Peru, up to Cusco and the Andes…I am the mobile summer creature…another side of me blossoms. I become me again.