#i'm sorry and i swear you're going to have something a little more gotesque in the future

[elliemarchetti]

The Snake and the Wolf

Chapter 4 - Dancing

The ending is rushed, I did little to no proofreading but I have to go to work in like ten minutes so here's the last chapter of this story for @erisweek2023. See you tomorrow (which already is in Italy but shh) for the first chapter of my modern AU.

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Words: 1.802

He transmuted as soon as he held her in his arms, heading for the village he protected from his father’s wickedness and Amarantha’s cruelty for all these years. The cluster of houses greeted them with its lights and colours, welcoming in the way only secluded places can be. It was almost dinner time, and a riot of appetizing aromas came out of the open windows, but Eris wouldn’t have been able to ingest even a spoonful of soup, his stomach twisted with terror. The mere possibility that Nesta might not wake up gnawed relentlessly at his heart, so he lifted her legs up in one fluid motion, resolute in wanting to carry her quickly to the modest residence he purchased at nearly double its value after Jesminda’s death. At first, no one in the village trusted him, and on the rare occasions he left the domestic walls, he had been regarded with suspicion and a good dose of resentment. Not that he blamed them, after the misery his father reduced them to. Ironically, he started to make friends only thanks to his hounds, the first people who smiled at him a handful of children dressed in rags who wanted to pet them. They were all adults now, two of them dead because of Cassian and Azriel, their loyalty and gratitude towards him yet another condemnation to which all those he loved were subject.

“I’m sorry...” he murmured to Nesta as he laid her down on the bed, unsure as to why he was apologizing. Perhaps he felt guilty for leaving her in the Night Court for so long, despite being aware of the injustices she was facing, or perhaps he wanted to make amends for having kept the secret about their connection to himself, even though he was still convinced he was in the right. After all, Rhysand and his friends hadn’t given her enough time to adjust to her new condition, hadn’t supported her after the war, after she’d seen her father die, and these were the consequences, so he could hardly imagine what reaction she could’ve had if she’d discovered she had a Mate too. No, Eris wanted to go slow, allow her to heal and make her own decisions, even if he didn’t like them. A part of him would’ve died forever if he had to watch her go away, thank him for his generosity but still turn her back on him to return to the human lands, or leave for the Continent, but he would’ve accepted  it, because there was no point in trying to control a spirit like hers. Of course he still wanted to be the reason why she rediscovered her passions and how beautiful life could be, even if the Autumn Court as it was at the moment could be a little dangerous to explore. If the other High Lords had trusted him more, perhaps he could’ve taken her on a visit elsewhere, where she could’ve danced in halls decorated for the holidays and ate exotic delicacies, but for now he could offer only boring simplicity, although he had every intention to gift her even the Moon, if she asked.

“Wet her lips,” a voice suggested from the doorframe, making him jump in surprise. It was rare to see a Fae old enough to have wrinkles and greying hair, but in that very village lived one of them, a somewhat nosy wise female who had taught him to cook and take care of himself when there were no servants around.

“Will she recover?” he asked, hating the fragility in his tone, the fear showing in his gaze and the agitation making his hands tremble.

“Only if you take care of her and allow us to do so as well,” she replied, with a solemnity that made him wonder if she weren’t a Seer, and hadn’t glimpsed something in the pages of a future he hoped would be long and prosperous. It took a couple of days before Nesta managed to sit up again without any help, and almost a month before she rudely chased him away.

“I’m not dying, and I only got up to get an apple,” she blurted out angrily when he found her in the kitchen and ordered back to bed. When she’d regained consciousness and realized what happened, she was perplexed by his intervention, and although he explained with his usual detachment that it was his dog who’d found her and he had merely exploited an opportunity that could play in his advantage, she hadn’t believed him, going damn close to discovering the truth.

“She says you’re not as bad as they describe you,” the old woman told him one day, but he knew she’d only did it to mess with him, not because she would’ve reported the content of their conversations. Almost all the villagers brought food, clothes, books and every sort of pastime they had, but the thing Nesta seemed to prefer were his hounds. In no time she’d memorized almost all the names and after about ten days she already distinguished one dog from another, although her favourite was Dysomnia, to which Eris had to gave up ownership rights when he saw her curled up at his guest’s side, with Nesta reading her a bedtime story.

 “It took me decades to train them and you’re undoing it all in less than a month,” he’d told her, and Nesta did nothing but smirk, making his knees feel like jelly. In her presence, he was an insecure and inexperienced schoolboy, but nothing could’ve prepared him for what he witnessed on Samhain night. As usual, he’d celebrated the festivities at the Forest House, but before anyone could approach him, when his father and brothers’ attention were on the countless females waiting to be chosen, he’d transmuted to the village, suppressing all carnal desires and jealousy, but still determined to make sure no one tried to get close to his Mate. He’d expected to find her home, perhaps annoyed by the noise, instead he’d seen her silhouette stand out  in front of the bonfire, her arms raised above her head as she moved sinuously with the only other young female present. Eris knew that dance: two steps forward and one step back, then three forward again until the couples were eye to eye. Loose and harmonious, the girls twirled in frenetic pirouettes, their voluminous skirts rising to their knees like bluebells shaken by the spring wind.

“Enjoying the show?” she asked once she’d reached him, leaving the General speechless in front of such disarming beauty. Some locks escaped her usual, rigorous hairstyle, falling to the sides of her angular face like a frame of burnished gold, and her usually icy eyes shone with ecstasy, her cheeks, rosy and sweaty, fuller since the day he’d saved her.

“Incredibly,” he confirmed, his mouth strangely dry.

“I thought it was customary for a gentleman to ask an unaccompanied lady to dance,” she teased him, when the musicians resumed their playing. The instruments were out of tune, and the players certainly lacked the technical skills to perform that specific song, but Eris would’ve danced even without music if it allowed him to held her in his arms again. He took her hand with a half smile, placing the other on her slim waist, and she lifted her chin, looking straight into his eyes just as the first drumbeat rang out, her breaths one with the music. He accompanied her, his body at once tense and relaxed as his Mate bent and took shape with the rhythm. It was as if the music burned inside Nesta, as if it filled her veins and flowed there instead of blood. There wasn’t enough space in the small square for the pirouettes she should’ve performed, but Eris took his hand off her back anyway, and she managed to follow the series of notes with ease, returning her gaze to him at the exact moment in which the music returned to the central melody. Smugness wasn’t enough to describe what he felt as she swirled like a nocturnal storm, wild and indomitable to the point of making him drunk with a single smile. He wasn’t sure he was able to hold back the wild desire he felt for her much longer.

“You never told me you loved dancing so much,” he murmured to her, on the last notes of the song.

“It’s been a long time since I last did it,” she admitted, letting herself be led away from the festivities, into a dark alley that reduced everything else beside them to a distant buzz.

“It didn’t seem like it,” he replied, leaning his back against the damp wall. In another life, she would’ve been in his place, and he would’ve had a firm grip on her thighs.

“There are things that are hard to forget,” she went on, moving so close to him that Eris felt his heavy breathing on his exposed chest. He wanted to touch her like he’d never wanted anything in his life, wanted to feel her heartbeat, see what was inside, make sure she was aware of what she was doing.

“We should go home,” he finally suggested, making the animal inside him hiss with disappointment, although he was sure it was the right thing to do. A little over a month had passed, she could neither be ready for whatever she was looking for from him, nor she loved him as he already loved her. It was strange to say, even to himself, for Eris had never been in love. Infatuated, maybe, when he was still too young to understand he had to put a certain distance between himself and his lovers, but with Nesta it was different, regardless of the Mating bond. She saw beyond his mask, she knew his weaknesses and not for an instant she used them against him. Together they discussed politics, laughed and faced the ghosts of their past, without ever being intrusive, without ever feeling the need to distance themselves from each other.

“Or we could stay here,” she suggested, brushing his fingers with hers.

“Your every wish is an order,” he tried to joke, but when she put her other hand on his chest, sliding up to his neck, he couldn’t resist any longer. He stood trebling like a tree struck to breaking point, but now his lips were on hers, soft and full and hungry. In the back of his mind he realized he took her face in his hands and pushed her into the barn, their bodies pressed together, her nails leaving mark on the pale skin of his back. She moaned, cursed and murmured his name between kisses, a completely new music to which Eris would’ve danced all night long, if she asked him to.

#erisweek2023 #eris vanserra #nesta archeron #neris #i have nothing left to say people #just that i'm sorry this turned so neris centred #i wanted to post two chapters per day #and if i followed the schedule i originally planned i would've been able to do so #but work is a bitch and i had to condensate a seven chapter story in this #i'm sorry and i swear you're going to have something a little more gotesque in the future