#Lucien Vanserra dad

[daevastanner]

Feyre going to visit Elucien in the Day Court years and years from now and…

They reside in a large, but somehow very homey manor. When Feyre winnows to the entrance, she’s immediately overcome by the warm, buttery sunlight and the large sprawling garden that seems to wrap around the entire house. Various windows are open, ferns and ivy and all manner of potted greenery tumble out of them as though the home they’ve made for themselves can hardly contain Elain’s green thumb.

It’s Elain who answers the door and ushers Feyre in, and it never fails to surprise her just how much the Day Court suits her sister. Her blush pink gown is made of light, elegant fabric and cinched at her waist by a gold belt. None of the fuss of the gowns that hindered her gardening with all of the beauty of the dresses that had made her the belle of every ball.

Elain says she’s set up tea in the back garden. Lucien is at the local market with their children and will join them soon. While they sip tea among the daffodils and the daisies Elain proudly tells her sister which flowers each of her children have planted, and how poor Sorrell kills most everything he touches.

About an hour later Feyre and Elain can hear the front door open and then the excited voices of Elucien’s brood as their father leads them inside.

“My hands are sticky!”

“A tragedy for the ages, my darling. Lily, you can help Poppy wash them, can’t you? That’s my favorite eldest daughter.”

“I’m your only eldest daughter. Come along, Lily.”

“I’m still hungry, papa!”

“Of course you are, Aster, I’d expect nothing less. I bet your mother has some snacks out in the garden. Aunt Feyre should be there.”

“Papa, can you make me some soup?”

“Papa said he’d help me with the bow today!”

“Jasmine, I’ll make you soup — I know, not too hot. Sorrell, we can still do the bow but I need to get Basil into bed before Im soaked in drool.”

Feyre’s brows are high as she listens to Lucien patiently and diplomatically address each need from within the house. He may be Helion’s heir, a charming courtier and a talented emissary, but he is a natural father. Elain just sips her tea with a small smile, like the sound of Lucien interacting with their children is her favorite melody. Little Aster, who looks every bit his father, comes running out into the garden on skinny legs and tackles his Aunt Feyre with a hug before diving into the cucumber sandwiches.

One by one, everyone but baby Basil comes and visits Feyre. Sorrell and Jasmine depart to go “explore” the woods. Poppy and Lily excuse themselves to make flowers crowns. Aster has some carrots he swears are ready to pick.

Finally, Lucien joins them, and Feyre thinks to herself how much domesticity suits Lucien. The Autumn and Spring Court Attire seemed to stifle him and while the Day Court attire his father wears isn’t exactly his style either, he’s somehow found a balance that suits him. A comfortable white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up and sage colored trousers tucked into riding boots, his fiery hair down but tied back at the sides. He looks dashing decked out in finery, but when Elain rises to kiss him and Feyre sees them together, she can’t imagine him in any other fashion but this. After centuries of clawing his way through darkness, he is in full bloom. Casual and stylish but practical and comfortable.

Feyre stands to embrace him, and she finds it’s hard to recall the time that there had been a wedge between them. The time they were both healing and seeing one another had only reminded them of their shared trauma. Now he plants a kiss on the top of her head and when he sits and joins them for tea, he asks all about Nyx and Andromeda.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a similar fashion with the three adults enjoying the never emptying tea pot, but every twenty minutes one of Elucien’s brood will approach the table. Each time, Lucien drops everything and leans forward to meet them at eye level. He answers every question, listens to every story. Before they resume their activities they always go to Elain for a kiss.

“You’ve both been fortunate to have been blessed with so many children,” Feyre smiles over her tea cup. “Any plans for a seventh?”

Elain sets down her tea cup and saucer with a clatter, her lips in a faint but exhausted smile as she gives her mate a knowing look. Feyre turns her attention to Lucien who grins at Elain from across the table.

“She’s cut me off,” Lucien says, russet eye glinting with amusement. “Give me a few centuries. I bet she’ll go for number seven.”

“You and your father wish,” snorts Elain.

Feyre almost balks at her sister’s flat tone, Lucien has brought out such fire in her.

“I can be very persuasive, lady…”

Elain rolls her eyes. “Oh please.”

Lucien opens his mouth to retort again, but then his metal eye whirs and his lips turn up in a wry smile. “He’s up.”

Feyre realizes that he means Basil. His metal eye somehow imparted this to him. Elain moves to stand, but Lucien is on his feet sooner, motioning for her to remain seated.

“No, enjoy your time with Feyre, lady,” he says, leaning over the table kissing the crown of her head. “I’ll see to him.”

“You’ve tended to them all day,” Elain frowns.

But Lucien is already walking backwards towards the house, rolling his sleeves up a little higher. “And I expect a substantial reward for such acts of heroism tonight.”

Feyre blinks and bites back a smile at Elain’s flushed face. Lucien disappears into the manor.

“To think,” Feyre says, unable to keep the smugness out of her tone, “there was a time I had to elbow you to get you to invite him over.”

Elain laughs softly. “I always knew it would be him. I didn’t need you to elbow me. I was just… taking my time.” She gestures to the garden, the manor. “I saw the eternity he would give me, but I wanted to wait. I wasn’t ready for all of this. For them.”

Feyre knows by ‘them’ she means their family. She doesn’t blame Elain for waiting. Her life here in the Day Court was quite an alteration to when she’d first been Made, quite the commitment. One she now loves.

“To have such certainty must’ve been a blessing and a curse,” Feyre murmurs. “But you always knew?”

Elain looks up at the second story window belonging to the nursery. “Of course. I could hear his heart.”

#Elucien week #Elucien #Lucien Vanserra #Elain archeron #Elucien fic #Elucien family #Lucien Vanserra dad #Elain archeron mom #Elucien parents #feyre Archeron

[crazy-ache]

We are not the same.

Some folks: SJM foreshadowed a blood duel between Azriel and Lucien in the Bonus Chapter to win Elain’s heart/claim his mate.

Me, an intellectual: SJM foreshadowed the blood duel in regard to Lucien because he will use it to save Elain’s life, likely from Beron, because this time he will be powerful enough to stop Jesminda’s fate from repeating itself again.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain x lucien #elucien head canon #anti e/riel #yall this is called a red herring #this is clearly Zuko’s story from ATLA where he was helpless and lost everything to exile by failing to fight his father in a duel #but when faced in a duel again he will prove his power against his horrible dad #Lucien was willing to lay down his life for Feyre his friend #don’t you realize he is going to do the same for his mate? #and he’s going to WIN and save her because there’s no way in hell he will let history repeat itself #especially for his mate #Lucien would never blood duel out of jealousy #he acts with honor and loyalty #yall will see #this is a story of his growth and coming into his own power too and getting justice from his father #and I just know Elain is going to help him in some way #pro lucien vanserra

[redbleedingrose]

that baby girl Lucy thing could be a drabble or headcanon or whatever ur comfortable with btw 😁 or you don’t have to do anything at all with it if u don’t want! just wanted to mention it bc GIRL DAD ERIS

GIRL DAD!ERIS AND LUCIEN RECONCILLING PART 2

A/N: OKAY YES I AM SO SORRY I GOT BUSY WITH MED SCHOOL, HAD A SHELF EXAM TO TAKE AND THEN I GOT LAZY BUT IT IS HERE!

Edit: So I started writing and realized this is getting a bit long, like I am not done with this part and I am already 2.2k word in, so this will likely be a 3 or 4 part mini-series giving y'all girl dad!Eris lore! I hope you enjoy and I am sorry I had to split it up, but it seems like I had more to this story I wanted to share!

part 1

Your first letter remains unopened, buried beneath legal documents and trade deals in a locked drawer of Lucien's desk. Each week, another one of your letters is added to the ever growing pile that Lucien can't bring himself to open.

Part of him wants to rip all your attempts of communication to shreds, throw it into the fire place and forget that you and Eris exist.

The other part of him, the one that he tries to bury deep within himself, is curious, anxious really, to know what it is you have to say to him. What is it that you continue to reach out to him?

Is it a part your duty as high lady of autumn? Are you looking to start relations between Autumn and Day? Are you trying to keep your relationship to your brother in law as professional as possible? What if you are trying to get to know him? Would that be the worst thing in the world, to get to know his sister in law? He has always wanted a sister.

What if you are writing out of need? For help? What if you need asylum from his brother? Gods, he hopes not. What if Eris turned out to be the exactly like his father, cruel and abusive in his marriage to you? What if he, like Beron, was ruining Autumn court with outrageous regulations and taxes too high that  most of the autumn population were left in poverty?

What if you were writing to him to brag about how well Eris has done without him, that this is the only way he will receive any updates on Eris, and to not expect anything more?

What if you are lovely and kind? What are you like? Are you good to Eris? Is he good to you? Do you make his oldest brother happy? Does he make you happy? What is Eris like now? Has he changed or is he the same paranoid male who plots conspiracies?

The lack of response from your brother in law does little to defer your efforts. You continue to write to Lucien, without skipping a beat, sending a letter to him every week, giving him updates on his brother, updates on your pregnancy, even updates on the pups Eris is raising to protect your babes in the coming months. You share with him your feelings about Eris, the story of how you met, how your mating bond had snapped abruptly and without notice, how he fought against your relationship for years until he couldn't hold back anymore, how when he finally gave in, he had made you the promise of a safer home, a safer land, a place in which his father could never lay a hand on you.

You confide in him your concerns over his brother, your fears that his duties as high lord will consume him, that Eris has anxieties about being a good father, and you are scared it will paralyze him. You tell him about the things you notice about Eris, things you think Eris doesn't know about himself. That, sometimes, Er will get a distant look in his eyes when he sees young children playing together, especially when one looks older than the other. That, sometimes, Er mumbles in his sleep, how often his name comes up while he is asleep, how Er wakes up from those same dreams gasping and clutching at his chest, how it takes hours for you to calm him after. How when Eris struggles to sleep, he stares at the family portrait, with his eyes fixated on Lucien before he comes back to bed with you at your urging.

You write to him as if he is your best friend, as if he is sitting across from you and you are just talking to him. You write to him as if you have known him for centuries.

With all of Eris' stories about his beloved brother, you feel as though you have known him for centuries. 

It takes a long time for Lucien to muster the courage to open your letters. After weeks of receiving letters and storing them away without a second glance, after weeks of forcing any thoughts of the letters away, after weeks of catching himself thinking about Eris, thinking about you and Autumn court, does he finally force himself sit down to read the letters. To be done and over with it. To read the letters, and never think of you or his brother again. To give closure to that horrific chapter of his life. To have this as his final goodbye.

It takes him several minutes to unlock the drawer after he slumps into his chair by the desk. It takes him a couple of minutes to open the drawer before staring at all the papers on top of the letters. It takes him 20 minutes to pluck the letters out from beneath and toss them onto his desk. Another 30 minutes is spent of him grabbing the letters and setting it onto the side table near his hearth, pacing around his office, biting at his nails, wringing his hands, running his fingers through his long auburn hair to sit in his cozy leather chair with the letters at an arms-length. An hour is spent staring blankly into the near extinguished fire, the pops and crackles from the desperate surviving flames being the only times he blinks. Another 10 minutes of delay, spent with breathing exercises while pouring himself a two, maybe three, fingers of night court imported whiskey and taking several bated sips of the hard liquor.

After almost two hours of delay, does Lucien use the letter opener the night court general gifted him during a visiting trip, to slowly and carefully, with shaking hands, tear the seal open. Deep breathing does little to stop his pittering heart as he opens the first letter, glazed eyes racing over each sentence, each word multiple times, nearly seizing as you break the news of your pregnancy. Tears he didn’t even know were leaking down his cheeks, meeting at his chin to drip down his neck began to stream. Choked sobs with a hand clutched at his chest, your letter delicately being placed to the side as his emotions crash into him.

Weeks of pent up feelings become unrelenting waves that makes it near impossible for him to catch his breath. All of grief for the time he has missed with you and his brother, all of happiness at your pride and clear love and devotion for your mate, his brother, all of sorrow and concern for what Eris turned out to be after years of torment and unrelenting abuse, all of quiet hope for the future relationship he may have with you, with his future nieces or nephews, with his older brother, all of that is almost unbearably overwhelming. The only source of respite, coming from your gentle handwriting.

“Lucien, I implore you to take all the time you need. I will patiently be waiting for a response, whether it takes weeks or months, years or even centuries. I want a relationship with you. As does your brother. And I want our children to have a relationship with their uncle. So I will wait. And if you decide that having a relationship with us is just too impossibly painful for you, then with the deepest regret and with the most profound love, will we accept that fate as well.” 

It is your own hope that pushes Lucien to read all of your other letters, whiskey set aside and forgotten. Letters that have his bereaved sobs turning into silent tears of joy. Letters that have him bubbling with laughter as you express your loving annoyance at Eris’ puttering about the nursery and his great insistence that your future babes will need 15 chicks, and at least 6 baby cows to grow up with.

Letters that have him smiling softly, reminiscing in the good memories of his childhood Eris whispered to you in the dark recesses of night. Letters that have him pondering if what you say is really the truth, because you give a convincing argument that his older brother may actually miss him, may have actually loved him… still loves him. Letters that give him insight into all the years he missed, that he now almost feels a part of, like he was actually there to witness all of the events surrounding your relationship and Eris’ ascension to the autumn throne. Lucien spends hours, even as the fire in the office gives way to death and the only remaining source of light becomes Lucien’s own magic pulsating through the room, reading your letters. Over and over, in the order it was sent in and in backwards order. And by the end of it, he is speechless. 

No words come to mind that can describe how he feels. He cannot come up with what to say. The only thing he knows is that he is appreciative for the time and patience that you have given him, the grace that you have shown, the honesty of the hardships that you and Eris went through, of the relationship you have formed with his brother, and of all the changes Er has gone through and has brought to Autumn Court since his escape. So, Lucien folds your letters following the exact lines you used, making sure not even a slight crease is created, before carefully placing back into the envelopes you sent them in, holding them to his chest as he walks to his room and retires for the night. Sleep, however, the trickster it is, plays the most exhausting game and evades him most of the night. His usual tossing and turning is replaced with his ember eyes focused on the letters, hands clasped tightly together resting on his chest because his fingers kept twitching with want to reach back for your messages to reread them. Lucien’s thoughts are wildly free of the endless possibilities of what might come in the future… a happy future. 

Days were spent rereading your letters. Days were spent stressing out over what to do, he never had a choice when it came to his family. All things were inevitably decided for him. He was brought up to be competitive with his brothers, it was decided that he would have to fight his brothers for the autumn throne, a throne he had no desire of having. It was decided what kind of training he got, despite his lack of interest in violence. He didn’t choose to leave Autumn, he barely escaped with his life. He didn’t choose this. Having a choice… it was a delicacy he hadn’t been offered before.

Lucien knew though. Deep down inside, he knew what he wanted to choose. Going back and forth with his options inevitably landed on one outcome. He wants to try. He wants to get to know you, a sister he always wanted and now, finally has. He wants to get to know his future nieces or nephews. He wants to be a part of their lives; he wants to be the best uncle he can be. And he so achingly wants to know his older brother, wants to know his side of the story, wants to know if he was wrong to blame him for everything. It is alarming. The prospect of it all. It’s… fully… wholly… thoroughly and completely terrifying. 

What if he was wrong about it all? What if he spent decades… centuries hating his own brother… someone who should’ve been blameless? Would Eris forgive him for it? What if he comes to the conclusion Eris didn’t try hard enough? Could he forgive Eris, a crimeless, unwilling accomplice in the murder of Jes? What if Eris is uninterested after a near lifetime of rejection? How will they build their relationship, beyond what it ever was? What if, even after all of that, he ends up alone? Was it worth it?

Was the hurt, the fear, the hope… was it worth it?

It took another month of Lucien’s contemplation to come up with a response, not for lack of trying. He had so many thoughts, so many feelings and emotions regarding his brother, his past, his future, you as his new sister in law, the fact that he is going to be an uncle, to work through, that he is still working through. He is afraid, afraid of what he has missed with Eris, afraid of what or who Eris has become. But one thing about the Vanserra brothers is that they have a burning courage within them. So despite the fear, he wants more. He wants to try. Every time he sits down to muster an acknowledgement to your letters, though, he chokes up. 

A ball of anxiety runs rampant through his stomach, a knot in his throat that he can’t seem to swallow, that he can't seem to clear even with a rough rub at his neck. His hands quake as he readjusts the pen in his hands, over and over, feeling pins and needles at the tips of his fingers as he tries to figure out the words to respond with. Your letters had so much thought, so much effort and sentiment and zest poured into them. And all of the thoughts and feelings he had during the time he took, it seemed… inadequate. A simple letter… it wouldn’t be enough. Not with all the things Lucien wants to say to you and eventually… to Eris as well. Finally, after staring at the blank sheet placed in front of him, sweaty hands rubbing furiously up and down his thighs, does he figure it out. 

So… with a shaky inhale, he brings his pen to the page. 

Hello dear sister,

I apologize for my delay in responding. If I am being honest, I spent a lot of time, quite a lot indeed, thinking of your letters. Thinking of you. Thinking of my brother Eris the Autumn High Lord. Thinking of the past. Thinking of the future. One letter to tell you all of my thoughts in response to your attempts of communication feel woefully insufficient. 

If you are ever so inclined, would you be open to meeting with me? I understand that your pregnancy condition may make it difficult upon you to travel to Day. I’m happy to I am set to be in Spring Court for two weeks from now for a week. Would you be willing able to meet at the border in three weeks time? 

with warm wishes,

regards, 

Lucien Vanserra

#acotar #acotar fanfic #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris headcanons #eris fanfic #girl dad!Eris #girl dad!eris #marwa and twila #twila and marwa #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra acotar #acotar fanfiction #lucien headcanons #lucien acotar #eris acotar #pro eris #rose answers #rose writes

[bettdraws]

I just think about how Lucien probably doesn’t even consider he will ever have children one day. Like when Jesminda died all his plans for the future died as well. So when someone -ahem his mate- asks him one day if he wants children he will actually stop himself and realize he had always wanted them, he just never let himself consider it anymore.

#please we need daddy lucien i just know he will be the best dad in prythian #pro lucien vanserra #pro elucien #elucien

[the-moon-on-a-string]

Me and Mor just got into a fight and she stormed off saying "i fucked your dad!!"

why is she interested in beron? girlie has such bad taste 💀

no srsly tho, like girl if you didn't like Eris, trust me Beron's not gonna be better

#i dont get it #everyone is saying they fucked my dad lately #expecially people from day court?? #like beron literally never visits other courts #what are yall on about #lucien blog #lucien headcanons #lucien supremacy #lucien vanserra #lucien roleplay acc #lucien acotar #lucien and eris #the vandaddies

[lucienarcheron]

*whispers* picture dad Lucien, walking around Day Court doing Day Court heir things with his little baby strapped to his chest 🤤

What an image. What a scene. What a fantastic thought. We already know he's a zaddy but when he becomes an actual daddy?????? 🫠🫠

On a less horny note, he's going to be one of the best dads, I just know it 😭

#lucien vanserra #asks #anon #like he's going to be the dad he wanted/needed I just KNOW it

[lyssasdrafts]

“i once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden like daylight” lucien vanserra finding out hes the day court heir

#— lyssa’s thoughts #i need him to find his real dad :( #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #pro lucien #pro lucien vanserra #acotar #acowar #day court #acotar helion #helion x lady of autumn #lucien deserves better

[norastarighet]

Lucifer edit xd

#lucifer hazbin hotel #lu legend #mammon #obey mc #beel #asmo #leviathan #draco lucius malfoy #lucio morgasson #noctis lucis caelum #lucifer #lucien vanserra #lucifer magne #i love luci #dad beat dad #lucifer morningstar #helluva boss #angels and demons #satan #devil #demons #heaven #what in hell is bad #hot as hell #hell's greatest dad

[quinlarhouseholdresident]

I see many saying if Lucien knew Helion was his dad his life would be infinitely better. Fuck no! I find it very hard to believe that after having a rump with a mated woman and her conceiving some time later…..you didn’t question? Like….you’re an idiot. A 19 yr old outlander figured it out faster than you? Absolutely not! And then people want autumn lady and him to be together. When he’s let her rot for 200 years after???

I can’t find any real reason why Lucien would want a relationship with this guy outside of propriety. Let’s not waste time on this when Eris and Lucien’s development is right there waiting for my tears.

Give me Eris and Lucien (daddyless!) ruling 2 courts together side by side. Hell, throw my man Tarquin in the mix too. He’s missed.

#lucien vanserra #Helion #eris vanserra #baby daddy Tarquin #free​ us from the dads still alive!

[mrs-jamesbbarnes]

Reeling from the realization that Mor was engaged to Eris (and now despises him) and has slept with Helion. She and Lucien probably have the most awkward interactions once she finds out who his dad is.

Plus the guy who was in love with Mor for 500 years is now obsessed with/in love/in lust with Lucien’s mate.

Lucien finds out about the foursome Helion wants to have with Mor, Azriel, and Cass.

#Mor is like oh hey Lucien whose dad I definitely haven’t slept with #and azriel is like you think you hate me now wait until you find out what your dad wanted to do with me #morrigan #Mor #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #ACOTAR #helion #so many potential good storylines

[fieldofdaisiies]

this is important, like really important, so thank youu💛

#lucien vanserra #elucien #dad!Lucien #elain x lucien #acotar #acosf

[acotardiaries]

OH MY GOD as soon as I thought I was over Lucien and figuring out his history and just my overall obsession with him and the Autum Court and his brothers (specifically Eris)….I see this????? Lucien was ROBBED of the loving father he would of had if Helion had been in his life😭😭😭

#crying screaming throwing up #helion spell cleaver #Helion high lord #acotar men #acotar #acomaf #acofas #sarah j maas #lucien vanserra #lucien spell cleaver #lucien glowstick #Helion would of been the best dad😭😭😭

[separatist-apologist]

The House That Built Me

Summary: Apollo goes camping!

Note: This is not a direct spin-off. I'm just plagiarizing myself at this point.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Read on AO3

Arina hadn’t meant to fall asleep. She’d intended to stop at a nearby inn on the road, sleep off her miserable night, before arriving at the Forest Estate in the morning. From there she could withdraw her money and make her way further into the country, finding some far flung village where no one knew who she was and scarcely cared about the Vanserra’s. Somewhere Eris would never think to look for her, where she might have peace from these men in their tophats and their rigid rules.

I love you.

She almost hated herself for saying it. She’d been so sure he felt it too, that he might reciprocate those feelings even if he wasn’t certain he wanted to marry her. She could have lived with what he offered if she’d been assured of his affections. Instead, Eris did what he always did and abandoned her. She couldn’t face him at that house, couldn’t stand to sleep in her own bed after a week curled in his arms. He could not foist any more humiliation upon her, not again. Arina was done. She’d been done the moment he vanished from the garden, her decision all but solidified when Callum attempted to force her into accepting his marriage proposal by doing it in front of all of Velaris. He’s assured no one else would ask in the wake of her rejection and why would she want them to, anyway?

She was in love with Eris. No one else could measure up. She was resigned to that fact, had made her peace with knowing she’d always loved him. Arina took his carriage, insisting to his driver Eris had given her permission. It wasn’t as if he were around to dispute it—Eris had merely left without a word, retreating to wherever it was he went when he was confronted by things he did not wish to see.

It was the sound of a gunshot that woke her. Arina screamed, pressing her back against the far end of the carriage. The footman attempted a defense, for all the good it did him. Another shot rang through the night and then the door yanked open. She expected to see the weapon, to have mere seconds before everything ended right before her eyes.

A stranger's face was replaced by the all too familiar countenance of Callum. “Get out,” he demanded roughly. Arina shook her head back and forth, her terror clouding her judgement.

“What are you doing?” she whispered. He lunged, grabbing her leg and dragging. She reached for anything that might help, finding only a discarded book she’d left behind days before. She knew those pages, that cover, like she knew her own name. Slicing her hand on the side of the carriage, Arina quickly tore a page, wiping her hand against the words that detailed the forest the princess lived within, letting it remain behind. Her body hit the hard street just beside the footman. She screamed, scrambling towards the grass. Callum caught her around the waist.

“What are you doing?” she asked again, writhing against his body.

“I told you about my cabin, remember?” he said, breath hot against her neck. She had not forgotten, had left the page behind for Lucien or Eris or anyone to find. “We’re going to stay until you’ve changed your mind.” “You can’t…” she whispered, her breath choking against the arm pressed to her windpipe.

“I can,” he replied. “I love you,” he added, as if that changed things. He loves her too much, her mothers voice whispered through her mind, replaying the words she’d once said about Beron Vanserra. Arina understood it now, as she was forced into Callum’s saddle. 

“He’s poisoned you against me,” Callum added, nodding towards his guards. The horse jolted forward, leaving the bodies of the men she’d unknowing condemned to die to rot in the street. “He’s as ugly as his father.”

“He hasn’t,” Arina tried to insist, staring at the looming forest growing nearer with every beat of the horses hooves. “I am not cut out for this life, to be a lords wife, I—” “No?” Callum interrupted, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. “I disagree.”

“What is your plan, then? To hold me here–” “Until you are with child,” he said, his words producing a new sort of horror. “You will return to Velaris and say you’ve changed your mind and I will wed you magnanimously like a gentleman ought.”

“I’ll tell Lucien what you’ve done,” she threatened.

“You can tell it to his grave,” Callum retorted hotly. “He’d have no choice but to accept. He is not going to support a ruined woman and her bastard child.”

Arina opened her mouth to plead, to beg Callum to reconsider before remembering how often she’d heard Amera do the same through her closed doors. It had never worked, seemed to only egg Beron on. Callum was a fine lord, with money and means and yet she doubted he knew the woods he’d just plunged them into. She didn’t either. Not this far from the Vanserra’s estate, at any rate, but she’d spent her life running through them. Arina was a creature of the trees and the rot, a being used to long days beneath the sun. If she could placate him long enough to escape, she was certain she could lose him in the woods and make her way to the Forest Estate. 

“Don’t hurt Lucien,” she finally whispered as the darkness became oppressive around them, the moonlight blocked by the leafy treetops overhead. “I’ll…” “You’ll what?” he whispered, tightening his grip against her until she was flush against his back. The urge to vomit nearly overpowered her. She could do this. She could fake it long enough to convince him she was hardly any threat, that she was just a simple, stupid woman. 

“I was just scared,” she finally said, lying through gritted teeth. “Of your affection, of being a lady…I spent my whole life in poverty, I…” I hate you. 

“I know you are, sweetheart,” he murmured, grip loosening. His hand spanned her stomach, caressing her softly. “Kiss me.”

She did, twisting in the saddle to press her mouth against his own. It was wrong, from his invading tongue to the wretched taste of him. Arina couldn’t let herself sink into guilt, even as her mind screamed that this was her fault. She’d carried on with this romance for far longer than she ought to have, treating Callum like an option when in truth he never had been. Maybe if Eris had never returned, if he’d never come back to the Forest Estate as a man, looking at her with his hungry eyes. It wasn’t the time to ruminate on her failures. 

“Take me back,” she whispered, fingers caressing his jaw. “I’ll marry you.”

“I know you will,” he replied, kissing her again and again until Arina felt his horse begin to slow, if only a little. He was distracted, aroused if his hands brushing against her breast were any indication. “But not until you’re pregnant.”

She stilled, swallowing hard. “Callum, I—” “Relax,” he murmured, interrupting her protests. “This is the fun part.”

Arina looked around her, at the dark, dense forest that stretched for miles in every direction. She knew if he took her to that cabin, wherever it was, she’d never get out. He could secure her to his bed and do whatever he liked. Even if she did, it would come at a heavy cost, one she didn’t want to pay. Arina, impulsive and reckless, shoved at him roughly, freeing herself from his grip to tumble painfully to the ground. 

“What the fuck–” one of the men behind them halted his horse as Callum tried to turn around. Arina plunged from the dirt road that cut through the forest, her feet impossibly loud in against the underbrush. There were places horses simply could not go, not in the dark, not through twisted trees and snaking branches.

“GET HER!” Callum roared, his voice a gunshot in the dark. She could hear men’s feet, likely realizing what she already knew. Their horses could not follow her–they’d have to travel on foot. 

It was treacherous. More than once, Arina smashed face first into a branch she did not see, sending her flying to the ground. She could hear her pursuers even without sight and though she didn’t think they knew exactly where she was, terror propelled her forward all the same. If Callum caught her a second time, he wouldn’t let his guard down. He’d be rougher, crueler, employ violence, even. She could hear his snarling commands, marking him further and further behind her as Arina ran wildly, unaware of even the direction she should be going. She couldn’t leave the forest, not without marking herself an easy, open target in the daylight and she knew she was more than a days ride from the Forest Estate. 

Halting to catch her breath, Arina looked through the darkness. The mountains were far in the distance, peeking over the Vanserra’s ancestral home and pointing towards the sea. She knew if she began to incline upwards, she’d have gone too far and yet perhaps that was what she needed. Go towards the mountains and find the river, follow it until she recognized some landmark. 

It wasn’t a particularly well-thought out plan. A million things could go wrong. As it stood, Callum didn’t know where she was and had help. She was one woman without supplies, relying on what she remembered from her books, as well as growing up on the Vanserra’s estate.

What she really hoped was someone realized she was missing. Elain, if no one else, might send Lucien looking for her after a day or two. Arina could hold out for a week, she thought, listening for the sound of Callum and his men before changing course for the mountains. Someone would find the abandoned coach, the dead driver and footman, and realize she was missing, too. Even Eris, she thought miserably, working harder to keep her footsteps silent, would want her back, even if he didn’t love her. 

With that in mind, Arina moved through the night, even when she couldn’t hear Callum’s barking voice or footsteps trailing her in the distance. She suspected they had pulled back to wait for morning which meant Arina needed to put as much distance between herself and that road as she possibly could. She knew the way she’d come, at least, and began moving forward, yet opposite, alternating between walking towards what she assumed were the mountains before turning right and plunging deeper into the heart of the forest, counting to five hundred steps before alternating again in a large zig-zag. 

She was exhausted, dressed in shoes hardly made for hiking. At some point she began pulling pins from her hair, letting them scatter to the ground. She took the ribbon at the back and used it to secure a long braid, satisfied that was the best she could do. 

Dawn broke over the treetops, sending Arina upwards into a nearby branch to rest and catch her breath. Daylight would bring trouble, of that she was sure. Only her and Callum knew what he had done.

He would be looking for her.

**

“Eris,” Elain warned, watching him line up all twelve of his dogs. “Are you sure about this?”

It was noon and Arina had been gone for hours. Lucien had gone back to Velaris to talk to Callum, just in case Arina had changed her mind and decided to stay with him. If nothing else, Eris wanted as many extra hands as he could get, and thought if Callum had been willing to propose, he’d care enough to help track her down.

Lucien would bring back Elain’s brother-in-laws, as well as the men their own family hired for protection but that would take more time. He couldn’t leave her alone—wherever she was—without at least trying to find her. He had that bloodied book page folded in his pocket, and one of her dresses wadded in his hand. He pressed it against Apollo’s nose, letting the dog get a good inhale of her scent.

“Find her,” Eris ordered, whistling the command. Apollo shot towards the forest like a puff of smoke, faster than any bullet. He watched the dog plunge into the distant tree line with a fleeting sense of relief. Apollo had spent the most time with her, had bonded easiest. If anyone was going to find her quickly, it would be that dog. Eris trusted Apollo to guard her, to lead her back to him. 

The other dogs got the same inhale, though their objective was different. Eris whistled for poachers. Eleven bodies suddenly began antsy, muscles tensed as they waited on him. It was entirely possible she wasn’t anywhere in the hundreds of miles of forest that surrounded him. He could be wasting his time on nothing. Lucien could bring her back, furious he’d made such a fuss when she’d never even been in that carriage. 

“You’ll stay here, just in case?” Eris asked Elain, ignoring her question. He wasn’t sure about anything. Elain bit her bottom lip before nodding.

“I will.”

That was all Eris needed to hear. He whistled again, offering permission to his dogs to go. They shot off just as Apollo had moments before, scattering to the woods as he walked behind them. Eris hadn’t come unarmed. He had his hunting rifle slung over his back and a pistol tucked into his belt along with a collection of knives, some of which he’d stashed in his boot. Eris was a lot of things–Duke Vanserra, a gentleman and rake when it suited him–but before all that, he was a creature of the land. The forest was his, not just by blood and law, but by some ungovernable form of magic burned against his very bones. It was the very earth he walked on that had raised him just as the house he left behind had. 

If Arina was out there, Eris meant to bring her home. He was certain, had she managed to escape her captors, she’d turn for the estate anyway, would try and make her way to him. She had to know he’d come looking, that he’d rip the woods apart piece by piece until he had her back. 

Eris found nothing that day. Eleven dogs returned as the sun set, cheerful and bouncy from a day well spent snuffling through the woodlands, their snouts depressingly free of blood. Only Apollo remained, still following his directive and tracking Arina. Eris had known he was too close to the house when he started. If she was walking—and he couldn’t prove she was—it would take her two straight days on foot to arrive. 

Having fed his dogs, Eris collapsed in a chair on the back terrace, allowing Elain to fuss a little. It was just the two of them, along with his usual staff. Lucien wouldn’t return until the morning at the earliest.

“No luck?”

“I’m choosing to see it as a good thing,” Eris told her, some of his desperation leaching into his words. “I fucked this all up, Elain.”

She sat beside him holding a sweating glass of water in her hands. “Maybe,” she agreed. “But I keep thinking what might have happened if you’d been in that carriage with her. At least you’re safe—” “And her?” Eris asked angrily. “I should have been there to keep her safe.”

“A bullet in your skull would hardly help her,” Elain replied without any malice. “I have to believe things happen for a reason. If she’s not dead, she’s out there. She’ll fight…you’ll see her again and apologize for your many, many misdeeds against her.” “I should have told her I loved her,” Eris whispered, putting his head in his hands. “I panicked, I thought if I could propose I wouldn’t have to say it…” Elain sighed, placing her hand on his back. “What did I tell you about forgiving yourself?”

“It’s not so easy,” Eris told her. “I feel responsible for all of it. He made me responsible, whether he meant to or not and I could not keep any of them safe. I’ve failed again, Elain. My wife is somewhere in the woods by herself, taken by strangers who are doing…”

“Stop it,” Elain demanded. “Stop it right now. I will not stand for another word of this. Little boys are not responsible for their fathers. You know your mother holds none of it against you and I know Lucien doesn’t either. You were his victim just as surely as they were and yet you have reimagined yourself as his co-conspirator, holding yourself far more responsible than he ever did. Beron went to his grave without guilt and you have let him, content to heap it upon your own shoulders and atone in his stead.” “What kind of man does that?!” Eris exploded, pulling from her touch. “What kind of man treats his family that way? How can he not feel guilt? I waited, I thought if I was perfect, if I did everything he asked…and it was never enough. He was never grateful, never appreciative he just…he didn’t love me,” Eris finished, his chest heaving with the words he’d never even dared to think, let alone express out loud. “I cannot understand it. Someone ought to feel shame.”

Elain sighed. “You don’t understand because you are a good man,” she murmured, taking his hand in hers. “And he was not. How could anyone understand his actions otherwise? They make sense only to men like Beron, who take with no thought of giving.” “I am afraid if I tell her I love her…if I marry her and make her Duchess I have failed,” Eris admitted. “I wish I had never been made heir, that I could have been born last.”

“Don’t tell Lucien that,” she teased. “He doesn’t want the title either. It belongs to you, Eris. You wear it well. Forget the world and their small minded opinions. Do something for yourself for once in your life. Marry Arina so I might have another sister.”

He kissed Elain’s cheek. “You are insufferable, you know.”

She opened her mouth to respond, to offer more teasing words. The sound of braying far, far in the distance was cut off by the sound of a gunshot.. Eris and Elain turned their heads to the darkened forest, eyes lingering on the mountains. 

“You don’t think…” Elain whispered as Eris rose to his feet. It was too dark to go chasing that sound. He had no idea where it had come from, to start, and no guarantee Apollo was unharmed. 

“She’s out there,” Eris murmured, eyes scanning the darkened treetops. “Someone is looking for her.”

“How can you be sure?”

“No one would dare kill one of my dogs,” he replied, looking at Elain’s terrified form. “Not unless they were after something else. That is no mere poacher.” “So, what? Someone is hunting Arina?”

Eris was livid. “I don’t know.”

He chose to believe Apollo had found her.

Eris knew Arina was coming back.

**

She’d fallen asleep in the tree for too long and woke up to the smell of burning underbrush. Clambering higher to see what was happening, Arina realized, with horror, that Callum meant to smoke her out. The sun was high in the sky, smoke curling upwards in a multitude of directions. He wasn’t close but he would be. The problem was the direction he’d set it in, forcing her to change course and run further into the woods, not towards what she hoped was the Vanserra Estate, but the mountains. Arina knew she could only get so far that way, that she would eventually collapse from exhaustion and suspected Callum was betting on the same. 

She was tired. With each plodding step, Arina felt her fear give way to hunger and thirst until it was all she could think about. It was becoming apparent she would die out here. Was it worth it, she wondered miserably as she suppressed the urge to cry? She couldn’t turn back for Callum now that he knew that kiss had been a farce. If he didn’t kill her, he’d trap her in a life to rival that of Lady Vanserra’s She had no choice but to continue, pushing through her burning legs and aching body until she smell of smoke dissipated and she could turn, veering hopefully back on course.

She found berries in a low bush sometime in the later afternoon. Arina gathered as many as she could, creating a little apron out of the front of her dress. She stopped to eat, relishing the sweetness and the moisture, which was almost as good as running water. It was a small win in an otherwise lonely, miserable day. She talked to herself as she walked, certain she was already starting to go mad. She recited her stories or talked of what she’d do when she escaped the wretched woods. In between pep talks, she wondered if anyone knew she was missing. Someone surely had come across the carriage, but did they know it belonged to Eris? Had they told him? Arina told herself it was entirely possible he wouldn’t know until the next day, even as another night alone in the forest made her miserable. Worse was the nagging thought that perhaps he’d assume her dead and not bother to look at all. After all, everyone else had been shot. Maybe he’d spend that whole next day searching the grass for her body. Maybe he wouldn’t look at all. 

Those thoughts, the what-ifs, consumed her. What she wanted was a sign, something that proved she wasn’t out here by herself, that it was just Callum looking for her. 

As night fell, Arina began looking for another tree she could take refuge in, not wanting to spend another too dark, terrifying night hoping every snapping twig wasn’t a monster about to harm her. She needed rest, needed a few hours to sleep and reset her brain before she collapsed to the bed of leaves beneath her and let Callum just take her.

“Arina,” a voice crooned in the distance. “Come here, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t Callum, though the lilting slant was similar. 

“I know you’re nearby,” the man continued as she crouched behind a fallen log, heart pounding in her ears. “No one wants to hurt you. We’re worried about you. Come here, darling. I have food and water…you can rest. Aren’t you tired?”

Yes, she thought desperately, not daring to move lest he hear her. She was so tired, so sure if someone gave chase she would lose. Arina pressed her hand against her mouth to hide even her breathing as the cool wind caressed her overheated cheeks, rustling the trees overhead. The setting sun would hide her, she rationalized. Her pursuer would have to turn back and she could surge forward, abandoning sleep for distance again.

“Come here, Arina,” the voice continued with deceptive sweetness. “I know you’re scared. This is all a misunderstanding.”

Two men were dead. Hardly a misunderstanding, as far as she was concerned. She didn’t doubt he would feed her and let her sleep, so long as it was Callum’s hand outstretched and his bed she lay in. A branch snapped, too close for comfort.

“Come on,” the man cajoled. “Come out.” Arina’s body sprang forward at the same time furious, terrible snarling shattered the silence around her. A sleek, massive gray body appeared seemingly from the sky itself, launching not at her, but the man just behind. She spun, hands pressed to her mouth at the sight of massive, muscular Apollo and his sharp, gleaming teeth. 

It was Callum's brother–one of them, at any rate–that was mere moments from snatching her. He had a pistol in hand and when Apollo crashed against his chest, the gun blasted towards the sky, betraying their position. Arina watched with both fascination and horror as Apollo sank his teeth into the man’s throat, tugging and snarling with vicious abandon. The sound of gurgling terror did little for her own fear, keeping her pinned in place.

Apollo pulled off, snout smeared with blood, his smoke gray eyes brightening. It was as if he hadn’t just mauled a man to death but had merely found one of the squeaking toys Eris was always throwing.

Eris. 

Arina sank to her knees, pushing Apollos bloody maw from her face with relief. “He sent you,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around the dogs sleek neck to press grateful kisses against the fur. Eris had sent his dogs into the woods for her. He was looking, would come for her. That thought alone bolstered her. She went to the body of Callum’s brother, pulling the gun from his useless hand and a knife off his belt. He hadn’t lied—in a bag slung around his chest she found food and a canteen of water. Arina gulped a careful amount down, taking what she needed without considering her actions in any meaningful way. 

This was about survival, now. The forest had become a chessboard and she one of the pieces. On one end was Callum, his men scattered about, his head start enormous. Already, one of his brothers had managed to track her down which meant it would not be long before others found her. 

On the other was Eris, a day behind with twelve dogs prowling a vast expanse of woodland. She imagined him at the edge of the property, his face inscrutable as he unleashed his animals. He’d warned her what they did to poachers. She wasn’t alone, either. Apollo tugged at her dress for a moment, trying to push her in the direction she’d just come, back to Eris she suspected. Arina wanted to follow the dog so bad it burned her soul to say no. If Callum’s brother had come that way, others would, too. She had to stay out of sight and continue her long march. 

Apollo abandoned his attempts in favor of trotting at her side, clearly pleased as punch to see her. Arina scratched his ears as the darkness began to envelope them.

For the first time, she thought she might escape.

**

Eris was up at dawn, his dogs already scattering to the wind. There was time for them to travel further, to cover more ground before they were forced by nightfall to turn around. At worst, they spent the day hunting small prey and chasing after their tails but at best they brought him a body he could examine. 

Lucien returned just as Eris had been about to set out, armed just as before and frustrated as ever. He’d brought Elain’s brother in laws, along with a cadre of other hired hands that could sweep large swaths of forest. Lucien grimaced when he saw Eris.

“She’s not in the city,” he told Eris, as if Eris didn’t already know. Apollo was still gone, either shot or with Arina. The dog would remain with her, of that Eris was sure. As long as they were both alive, Apollo would protect her with his life.

He nodded. “Couldn’t convince Callum?” he asked, strangely relieved not to see him. Lucien tilted his head, sweeping his hair into a ponytail with a leather strap at his wrist.

“Couldn't’t find him. His brother says he’s licking his wounds in some country hold out but they were cagey as fuck.” “I didn’t know they had a country estate,” Eris murmured, eyes sharpening towards the treeline. Lucien only shrugged. “I admit, I didn’t think they did either but I’ve been wrong before. I didn’t exactly interrogate him. She did turn him down, after all. Maybe he did leave the city for all I know. Caleb offered assistance sweeping the forest,” Lucien added.

“You turned him down?”

Lucien nodded. “We’ll stick to our own on this one. I don’t need Callum reporting back on what happens should we come across whoever took her…it would hardly reflect well on our reputation.” “Fair enough,” Eris murmured. “I don’t want that bastard out here anyway.”

He wasted no time producing a map of the forest, creating a grid for each man to work within. They would search their sections looking for either Arina, very much alive, or her body, which Eris intended to bury in the garden. She’d been in the forest for a full day and two nights. Eris would lose his mind if she spent another. 

Having done what he could, Eris and Lucien rode out to the edge of the property before plunging into the woods. They left their horses on a dirt road that wound towards the mountains, eyes searching for anything that might betray her presence. Lucien was the first to find a path, noting trampled plant life and snagged twigs. They hadn’t been made by Arina but someone much larger, with a heavier footstep. She was being stalked, then. The thought infuriated him even as the pair wound through the woods, following those boot prints.

“Jesus,” Lucien choked, pausing just above an overturned log. Eris looked over his shoulder, frowning at the body that lay mauled on the ground, flies buzzing loudly around the carnage. 

“Is that Carter?” he asked. It was difficult to tell who they looked at, given one of his dogs had very clearly ripped out his throat. It had to be Apollo, he reasoned. The body had been there for longer than a few hours. 

Lucien peered over the dead man, his shirt lifted over his nose. “What the fuck?” he asked. Eris rifled through his pockets, finding a pouch of coins and a card with his name. Eris rose, his anger burning hot enough to ignite his skin. 

“Callum is here,” he whispered. It was no mere highway robber, then, no random attack. It was a man she’d known who had pulled her from that carriage, who had executed two strangers before her very eyes. 

“You don’t think this is revenge, do you?” Lucien asked, still staring at Carter’s ruined body. “For father and the ships?”

“Or for telling Callum no?” Eris murmured, head cocked to the side. He wondered what he would have done, had it been him on one knee, begging for Arina’s life, only for her to tell him no. 

Not this, he decided. 

“I don’t know,” Eris finally said, unable to imagine any scenario that could prompt him to hunt a terrified woman through the forest. He could see, just ahead, Apollo’s paw prints set against a smaller set of feet. She’d been here, had witnessed what his dogs could do to a grown man with a gun, which Caleb lacked. Eris hoped Arina had taken it. “If he’s out here, they all die.” Lucien glanced at Eris, not bothering to argue. Lucien continued his tracking, leaving Carter’s body to the maggots. The laws on poaching were clear enough and a dog could hardly tell the difference between a common man and a lord. It was what Eris had always cherished so much about his own animals. To them, he was just a man they loved and not heir to the Vanserra empire. 

Not Duke, but dad. 

“If you were scared,” Lucien began, still following Arina and Apollo’s strange, zig-zagging trail, “And you knew you were being hunted, where would you go? How would you get back home?”

Eris turned his head towards the mountain. He’d been trying to understand why she was moving the way she was, always hedging closer to the mountains he knew Arina had to know she could not pass. She’d veer towards home and then cut sharply north again, over and over until it made him dizzy.

“I’d go to the river,” he finally said, his mind piecing out the puzzle. She was so lovely, so smart. Pride shimmered in his blood. “If I thought the woods were unsafe and wanted to take the long way around, I would follow the river.” She’d encounter a village before she ever got to the estate which might offer her protection and a place to sleep.

Lucien, too, tilted his head northern, crouching beside some trampled foliage. “Let's beat her to the river, then.” Eris was miserable, stepping away from her tracks to follow after his brother, though the plan made sense. If they could intercept her, they could get her back to the Forest Estate by nightfall and spend the rest of their time hunting Callum. That thought kept him going, pushed him forward even when his anger and bitterness got the best of him. He still had that ring in his pocket, still intended to put it on her finger just as soon as he got his hands on her.

Eris wanted to see her so badly it made his teeth ache. Had he really gone years without looking at her? Eris barely remembered his life before her though it seemed dark and bleak. Miserable, he supposed, because it had been. Whether she’d ever meant to or not, Arina had given him a reason to get out of bed ever since Beron died…just as she’d given him a reason to live all those years before.

He couldn’t let her die. 

The sun was dipping over the horizon, slowing Lucien and Eris as they crested up a steep incline that overlooked the rushing river below. 

“Tomorrow,” Lucien began, wiping sweat from his forehead. “We’ll hike down and–” A blood curdling scream, followed by snarling and another gunshot, sent the pair running towards the noise. She was close, higher up than they were, but close enough the two could hurl themselves through the brush and leaves, panting as they went. Lucien pulled a curved knife off his belt as Eris reached for his pistol. She was here. Eris could bring her home. 

They burst from the forest to the cliffside just in time to watch Caleb lunge for her. Apollo saw Eris, eyes brightening despite his aggressive, defensive stance. Lucien surged forward, clutching his knife, and jammed him roughly into Calebs neck as Eris yelled, “ARINA!”

She’d already taken that step, her back turned even as Lucien pushed forward. It was something of a nightmare, watching Arina decide she’d rather jump from a cliff face into rushing rapids than be dragged back to Callum. What had he done to her? Apollo whined as if to apologize before leaping after her. “FUCK!” Eris snarled, stepping over Caleb’s bleeding, gasping body to look below. Apollo crashed into the water, vanishing beneath the frigid surface. If the dog–or Arina–came up for air, it was impossible to know. It was far to dark to see into the distance, though Eris was skeptical either of them had managed to land without snagging on some hidden rock or being dragged into an undertow. 

“So much for not knowing, huh?” Lucien asked Caleb, using his boot to roll Caleb on his face. Lucien didn’t want to watch him die.

“She was right there,” Eris said, staring down at the rapids with an aching chest. “I could have grabbed her.” “She didn’t see you,” Lucien replied. “She’s in the river. We know where she’s headed. Let’s catch her before she gets too far.” Eris nodded, taking a breath of the rapidly cooling air. Night was upon them and the river could move her far quicker than Eris’s feet could.

He was beginning to wonder if he’d ever truly see her again. 

**

The water was punishingly cold and impossibly fast. She’d bruised her shin on the way down, desperate to avoid the men coming behind Caleb, certain Callum had finally managed to corner her. Jumping had seemed reasonable to a panicked brain but now, in the dead of night, as she pulled herself toward the rocky riverbank, Arina was not so sure. Apollo had managed to get out far sooner than her, barking loudly as he ran after her, as if to demand why she didn’t just swim to shore like he had? “Must be nice, having four legs,” she panted when Apollo licked at her face, nudging her with his big snout. “Let me breathe.” The rocks dug against her back, reminding her she’d have to get up if she wanted to find a true place to rest. Another night in the forest seemed like hell on Earth to Arina, who was close to calling it quits. She didn’t want to give up on Apollo, who was cheerful, helping her groan to her feet and limp from the riverbank up over the muddy incline until she was back in the woods. With her shin as banged up as it was, Arina didn’t think she could spend another night running. She was running on nothing. Arina collapsed to the ground, grateful when a semi-dry Apollo laid beside her, snuggling his head against her lap. She scratched at his ears and swallowed the urge to cry. 

“I’m starting to think I’m going to die out here,” she whispered, earning a soft noise of protest from Apollo. She’d thought Eris would have found her by now. Everywhere she turned, there was another of Callum’s men tracking her, determined to drag her back. She was rationing what she’d stolen from his other brother but even that wouldn’t last another day. 

Arina pressed her back against the bark of the tree, holding the knife tight in her hands, and closed her eyes. Even tired as she was, she could not stop replaying the way Eris had looked at her when she’d told him she loved him. Abject fear, anguish even…and then nothing as he walked away. She ought to have thought of other things, shouldn’t have cared and yet she did. She wanted to survive long enough to see him again and having his dog and some small shred of hope she might, Arina wondered what would be waiting for her when they reunited.

Her plan was otherwise unchanged, assuming Eris was resolved to take a different wife or remain unattached the rest of his life. She still meant to leave, if nothing else. It was that thought that lulled her to sleep, her future no longer hinging on just chance. After all, she’d managed three nights and two days by that point. She was sure she couldn’t be that far. Not when she had the river to follow, when she had Apollo's warmth against the breezy night and her still-wet dress.

Arina woke before the sun, forcing herself to rise to her feet. Apollo bounded ahead for his own breakfast, never long to return. She was genuinely pleased for him when he dropped a dead rabbit at her feet, demanding praise in the form of ear rubs and several well-deserved kisses between his eyes. He was bloody but, so was she. The water had done a little for the dirt caked over her skin. 

As the day wore on, Apollo became bouncier, his excitement infectious. She, too, was moving easier, ignoring the ache in her body as they covered yet more forest. Apollo dragged her to the interior, dress between his teeth as he tugged, tail wagging with such ferocity his whole butt seemed to wiggle. She understood why Apollo was so eager when they burst into a clearing, surrounding by gleaming, sparkling water. Arina almost sobbed with relief at the sight of that lake, hidden on every side by trees. She could see the ghost of herself pressed against Eris, kissing him for all he was worth. 

She was close. Thirty minutes, if that if she ran. Arina meant to take off in a sprint, finding new life at the sight of the dock at the very end of the clearing. She was poised, muscles tensed, when a man appeared across from her, the glimmering water the only thing seperating them. Arina froze at the sight of his dark hair, his brown skin gleaming in the  golden glow of late afternoon.

“Arina,” he began, his voice breathless. “We’ve been looking for you.”

She took a step backwards. How had he found her. A sob all but robbed her of her breath as the man lunged forward, perhaps realizing she, too, was about to run. Apollo, curiously, did not snarl and snap though his body was tense beside her.

“ARINA!” the man shouted, betraying her location to everyone around them. She shot off like a dart, Apollo at her side, back into the forest she’d just left. There was nowhere safe, no where she could go Callum could not track her and Arina was so, so tired. Panic was its own beast, strangling just as surely as any hands.

“ARINA!” a new voice cracked through the distance. Only—Arina recognized the thunder that shattered the peace, his gravitas forcing trees more than a century old to bow. Eris. Arina’s feet came to a screeching halt. He was close. 

She drew a breath to call for him, spinning in a circle among the dense woodland. Eris, Eris, Eris. He’d come, he was looking. She would see him again, elegant and lovely and probably annoyed by the fuss she’d caused, his worry only visible in his gaze. And she’d touch him, he’d hug her even. 

Apollo snarled, back legs springing but it didn’t matter. Arina’s breath died in her chest, a strong forearm pressed against her throat.

“Don’t think about it,” Callum murmured, pressing the point of his knife against her cheek. “Call off  your dog.” “I can’t,” she choked, stepping back with Callum. He released his knife though he kept her pinned against him.

“Did you miss me?” he breathed, dripping in sarcasm. Arina almost said yes, determined to lie like before if it got her back to Eris. It didn’t matter—Callum pointed his gun at the dog poised to fight him to the death.

“Go,” she whispered, closing her eyes at the sound of the explosion. There was snarling and whining and then the feel of an impossibly heavy body slamming against her own. It seemed Apollo had decided, in all his dog wisdom, that if they were to go down, they’d all go down together. 

Liquid heat seared through her side even as Arina twisted out of Apollo’s reach, letting the dog twist and tear at Callum’s arm, as if the man did not have a gun nearly in Apollo’s mouth. Arina scrambled, wondering why it seemed so off kilter to move. So unusual, as if she’d only just inherited this body she inhabited. Arina took the knife, laying among the leaves and dirt and plunged, eyes closed so she couldn’t be held accountable entirely. She pulled the blade from soft, bleeding flesh and stabbed again, and again, until Apollo’s snarling turned to nervous whines and Callum’s eyes stared lifeless at the sky.

Ivory had been a bad choice for this adventure. It was a strange first thought, the knife clattering from her hands. Blood darkened the once beautiful fabric, ruining it thoroughly. Marking her. For a moment, Arina thought the pooling stain was condemnation from the Gods as she stood shakily to her feet. 

It was her own, she realized as she staggered forward, nearly collapsing. She clutched the rough bark of a tree, wondering when Callum had managed to wound her. Everything had happened so fast she hadn’t noticed. If then, as Arina’s feet shuffled forward of their own accord, she couldn’t feel anything except her own exhaustion. 

Apollo tugged, his own sleek gray coat smeared with red. “I think I should lay down,” she whispered, her knees buckling in agreement. The dog whined and licked until Arina had to cover her face with her arms to shield from his persistent optimism. You’re so close. Please get up.

“Leave me here,” she whispered, her face pressed to the warm ground. 

Apollo fell to the ground beside her, whining softly all the same. Refusing to leave.

He would witness her. Even in death.

#eris vanserra #my summaries make this fic sound so light hearted #awww is a dog going on a camping trip? #and then you read it and youre like oh #the dogs is going on a free for all murder spree #just like his dad #lucien and eris are bonding though and we need to take the wins #erina #aris #this is falling in love in the cruelest way #this is falling for you while you are jumping off a cliff to escape me

[redbleedingrose]

since ur drabbles are open… thinking about girl dad!Eris and reader having another baby and Eris wants to name her Lucy after his baby brother 🥹

heheheh another babe for girl dad!Eris ???

If I am being so completely honest, I think it is gonna be a long long time until girl dad!Eris and you have another child. One fae pregnancy is extremely rare, and the fact that you had a twin pregnancy??? Almost unheard of in Prythian.

Eris for sure wants more children, I think it takes you a long time to be ready for it. You want to spend time with your twin babes, and your pregnancy with them was very, very difficult... it makes you less than excited to be pregnant again. And Eris is fully aware and ready to wait as long as you need, and is content if you decide you don't think you will ever be ready for another.

And to clarify, I think Eris would truly really pray for another girl. I think he has his own insecurities when it comes to having a son. He truly feels more comfortable with having daughters he can spoil and love on to the fullest extent. The thought of having a son... it makes him fear (even moreso than he does with Marwa and Twila) that he will act like his father.

Needless to say, I think Er has a lot of trauma he is working through, and You, Marwa and Twila are the reason he feels so inclined to do so. So, at the end of it all, it will take some time for him to be ready for another babe as well.

Now, your thought, dear anon, is a very sweet one, and I have had thoughts as well. So, maybe I can share some Girl Dad!Eris lore for the class since you brought it up so kindly!! <3

It takes a very long time for there to be reconciliation between Eris and Lucien, not for Er's lack of trying. Lucien is deeply, deeply scarred by what Beron did to him and Jesminda. And the role that Eris played, or at least the role that Lucien thought Er played, is one that broke their relationship.

Prior to this, Er was the only brother Lucien actually loved and was close to, and visa-versa. Eris truly adored Lucien, ever since he was a babe. Eris tells you later on, in the darkest hour of night, while he is wrapped up in your arms with his face buried in your chest, body shuddering from sobs, that he always knew that Lucien was different from the rest of them, from the rest of his brothers. Er's mother came clean to Eris years after the incident with Jesminda, but part of Eris already knew. And Eris thinks that there was a part of Beron that already knew. And maybe that is why what happened with Jesminda, is because of Lucien's crime of being born.

Eris' relationship with Lucien is honestly really difficult for Eris to talk about, he rarely wants to, even with you, his closest confidant, his best friend, his wife, his mate. It is not something he wants to spend time dwelling on, though you know, and he knows, that Eris will spend an hour a day, at least, thinking about how things could have ended differently, if he had just tried harder.

Eris was made aware of Beron's hatred for Jesminda the moment Lucien introduced her to their family. He caught the dark, hungry glint in the evil high lords eyes when she introduced herself as a young maiden coming from the rural farms of Autumn. As the eldest son, Eris was responsible for a lot of Beron's duties (in secret of course). As such, the night after Jesminda was introduced, Eris was summoned to Beron's office and was made aware of the plan to ruin the young loves relationship.

Eris spent a long time, with lots of effort, trying to put off or ruin Beron's plans. And he was often successful. What Eris counted on, was Beron letting things go between the two young loves. Eris counted on this being Beron's attempt to "protect the family image." Eris truly believed that if he delayed Beron's plans that many times, that eventually his father would give up.

What Eris didn't count on, was Beron's utter hatred for Lucien. Eris didn't count on the fact that the plan was to ruin Lucien's life. By the time Er figured out what was going to happen to Jesminda, it as already too late. Jes had already been brought to the prisons for her end, and Lucien was already being held back by their second oldest brother, Dragos.

The way that Eris explained to you, and he only has once because he really hates talking about this night, is that he grabbed onto Lucien to make sure Dragos didn't kill him right then and there. But with that, with his intent on protecting his youngest brother, he had to force Lucien to watch the beheading of his first love. It is not something Eris will ever find forgiveness in himself for. He will never forget the wails and shrieks of his youngest brother. And he will never forget the ringing silence that came after.

All that Eris had in his mind, trying to tamp down the sheer panic running through his arteries, pumping through his heart, is getting Lucien out. Once Jesminda was murdered, Eris wasn't sure what the fate of Lucien was. So, while he and Dragos were dragging Lucien away, when they were finally out of the sight of Beron and the other brothers, Eris released Luc and used the dagger hidden against his forearm to stab into Dragos' carotid. Lucien was soaked in his second eldest brothers blood as he scrambled away from Eris, but Er didn't let him get too far, winnowing the both of them out into the depths of the Autumns Forest.

"Go," he hissed between clenched teeth, shoving Lucien towards the spring border, "I will hold them off." The shouts of the other Vanserra brothers approaching closer and closer through the forest, Eris couldn't bring himself to look back as he shouted at Lucien to "Get out of here! Go! Leave and never ever come back!"

Eris described this night, as one of the worst ones of his entire life. He lost his most beloved brother, possibly forever. And he would never be able to explain himself. He would forever, in the eyes of his brother, be an enemy and one of the reasons Jesminda is not alive.

You coming into Er's life brought a lot of hope. A lot of strength for Eris. Centuries of planning to assassinate his father are finally carried out because there is nothing more that Eris wants, than a world where he can love you freely and openly, without putting you in danger. After Beron is... eliminated... Autumn Court flourishes under Eris' rule with your help as high lady. Eris has long let go of hope that one day, maybe Lucien will forgive him. But he has hope that he will build his own family, one that he will love and protect forever, one that he won't fail like he failed Luc.

Lucien, struggles with his emotions regarding Eris. He has long remained confused and angry and hurt about the night Jes was killed, and it takes him centuries to work through all of the trauma of it. And he has to do it without his oldest brother, without his mother. He has to do it alone. After that night, Lucien thought he would be alone forever, without a family.

Of course, as time passes, wounds heal slowly. From a distance, truly peripherally, Luc watches the Autumn Court flourish under Eris' rule with the new high lady, you. Lucien was stunned that Eris even created teh position of high lady, he always assumed that the woman to marry Er would live in a loveless marriage as lady autumn as his mother had. Lucien didn't think Eris would find love. He didn't think Eris would let himself have love. Despite these changes, Lucien remains wary for several more decades.

It is not until one fateful evening, in the middle of Summer while Lucien is in Day court, the truth of his conception being exposed after Beron's death, that Luc receives a letter with delicate, beautiful handwriting addressing him as "brother." It doesn't take long for Luc to figure out, that the handwriting belongs to the High Lady of Autumn, you, his brothers wife and mate. You never told Eris you were writing Lucien this letter, because you didn't want to get his hopes up, but you wrote to Lucien imploring him to come visit one day, if only to meet his new sister in law, if only to see the changes that have brought true joy to Autumn Court. In this same letter, you inform Lucien that you are expecting. That he will be an uncle, and that you hope to the mother, that you pray to the gods, that one day your babe will be able to meet their fathers favorite brother, their youngest uncle. Lucien, as you expected, does not respond to your letter.

At least, not right away...

Part 2 coming soon!

A/N: this is unedited but part 2 is coming tomorrow hopefully, Thursday evening at the latest 💞

#rose rambles #rose answers #girl dad!Eris x reader #girl dad!Eris #eris vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra fanfic #acotar fanfic #acotar hcs #acotar drabbles #autumn court #eris vanserra #eris vanserra drabble #eris vanserra fanfic #girl dad eris lore #marwa and twila

[theatrequeen]

He’d been making his rounds beside the Illyrian Lord when his shadows started tugging on his wrist. He left the Lord with a quick excuse to listen to the shadows. He followed them knowing whatever it is they wanted him to see would be important. They led him further and further towards the edge of the forest. It wasn’t until he heard a baby’s cry that he realized what it was the shadows wanted him to see.

The babe was wrapped in nothing more than a hole ridden cloth and tucked into a hollowed trunk of a rotten tree. The babe’s brown skin was flushed red from the cold and crying. Azriel reached into the tree and pulled the baby out, tucking it into his arms, hoping to start sheltering it from the cold and return warmth to its small body.

#Azris #Azriel #Eris Vanserra #Azris Dads #I want to see these two be the best dads #They didn't get the greatest childhoods #So you know their kid(s) would have an amazing one #Also we get a cameo from Dad!Helion #The best version of Helion #Helion #lady of the autumn court #Lucien #Elain #Feyre #Rhys #Cassian #Nesta #Emerie #Nyx #Nessian twins #(the kids are just mentions)

[the-moon-on-a-string]

What do you say to the people saying you are Gwyn’s daddy?

…

Who’s gwyn?…

Wait actually better question

WHO’S PREGNANT

I THOUGHT YOU GUYS SAID THAT THE PEOPLE IN CALANMAI TOOK BIRTH CONTROL.

WHO FORGOT TO TAKE THIER PILLS.

Edit: I did a little research, not yall thinking it’s ianthe??? Cauldron boil me and fry me. Actually no, just drive a stake through me already.

Absolutely not. Die.

#I HAVE A SECRET DAD #HOW MUCH TRUAMA DO YOU WANT?? #oh I saw another one that said jesminda #You kinky little freaks #yall just wanna see me cry #lucien roleplay acc #lucien vanserra #lucien blog #lucien supremacy #lucien headcanons