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honeybeefae · 7 months

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Secretly Mine (Azriel x Eris)

Eris Week Day Three: Secrets

Summary// Eris is visiting the Court of Nightmares to keep in touch with things now that he is officially High Lord of Autumn. As he mingles he is introduced to a lovely vixen who, despite Eris's resistance, takes no hints to his distaste. While Eris tries to search for a way out he catches the eye of a Shadowsinger who is none too pleased about the wandering hands touching what is his, even if in secret.

(I love Azris. If I can’t have Eris I am more than happy to have him go to Azriel. Also sub Eris is HAWT. Writing this was so much fun if you know what I mean so I hope you guys enjoy it!)

WARNINGS: Smut, Secret Relationship, Dom/Sub Dynamics

Eris had never felt more uncomfortable in his life as Keir practically shoved the young fae woman into his arms, his tone dripping with satisfaction as he not so subtly brought up the woman’s accomplishments and marriageable age.

“Such a beauty, wouldn’t you agree?” He pursed his lips. “She’s the daughter of one of the elite here. Well-read, submissive, beautiful, everything a man could wish to have.”

“Oh, you boast too much, Keir.” She faked a laugh, turning to Eris with a sly smirk. “My name is Carina and you, my lord, need no introduction.” The bow she gave him was so deep that he could see right down her dress, which he was sure was the point. “I am honored to be in the presence of such a powerful man.”

“Two powerful men, right Carina?” Keir corrected, his jaw clenched from the slight of being forgotten. She nodded quickly, a bit of fear flitting through her eyes before she turned docile once more. “Of course! You know I could never forget you and all you have done for my family, Keir.”

“And it should stay that way.” He raised his glass though his tone was anything but calculated as he bid the two of them goodbye. Eris went to turn around, hoping she was distracted, but sighed when she latched on to his arm.

“And where do you think you are going, my lord?” She purred.

“I was just going to fetch myself a drink,” Eris replied cooly, trying to pull away which only seemed to cause her to sink her claws in deeper. “Did you need something?”

“A dance if you please, before you wander off and get stolen away from me.” Carina pouted her lips. “I would love to show you my moves…” Her fingernails ran up his arm suggestively and he had to resist the urge to cringe.

He looked around for anyone to save him, desperate for an out, but found none. Eris ground his teeth and forced a smile while holding out his hand, leading her out to the floor. The music was soft as he began to sway, hating the way her body pressed against his.

If he were being honest there was only one body he wanted to be pressed against and that person was somewhere hiding in the shadows, watching his every move. He could feel the skin on the back of his neck prickle as he tuned out the woman’s mindless chatter, spinning her so that he could do a sweep of the room.

It wasn’t until his second turn around the room that he finally spotted the Shadowsinger. Azriel was lounging against a far column, his hazel eyes blazing with jealousy as Carina stroked Eris’s back while bringing him down to whisper something.

Eris could see Azriel’s jaw tighten, and could practically feel his hands around his throat as he finally broke his gaze to look at his dance partner. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“You’re hardly paying me any attention, my lord. I thought you were raised with better manners than that.” She chided, her ruby-painted lips ghosting over his ear as she cooed, “Perhaps you need a reminder of how to treat a lady. One night with me and you’ll never forget the lesson.”

“Wow, I-” Eris tried to respond, pulling back only to stumble into something hard. The smell of darkness and night air filled his nostrils as he turned to see Azriel glaring at the two of them, his jaw tight. “Azriel.”

“Eris.” He replied lowly, never taking his eyes off Carina. “My High Lord has requested an audience with you. Now.”

“Can his lordship wait? We were in the middle of-” She tried to interject but flinched back when he took a step forward, shadows curling over his scarred hands. “I’ll look for you after, Eris. Don’t keep me waiting long.”

However Azriel and Eris are already halfway across the room by the time she finishes her sentence, the anger and jealousy rolling off the Illyrian in waves as Eris holds back a whimper in his throat.

It had been so long since he had seen him. They had to keep their…whatever it was between them, secret, for obvious reasons but especially now that Eris was High Lord of Autumn. And with how busy he had been with taking over the court he had barely had time to sneak away to his favorite distraction.

They entered the hallway and Azriel gave a quick look around before he all but shoved Eris towards a small closet, ordering him quietly to ‘Get the fuck inside now.’.

As soon as the door shut behind them Eris was pressed against the cold stone wall, a tan arm pressed against his throat as Azriel pushed his hips against his. He could feel his hot, throbbing cock through his leathers and this time Eris did whimper.

“Azriel, please, let me explain.” He swallowed, mouth dry as Azriel cocked his head.

“What is there to explain? You vanish on me for weeks and then suddenly here I find you dancing in the arms of someone else, someone who was very keen on what you had to offer.” Azriel’s words were like ice as he tried to control his breathing. “By the pathetic noise you just made for me I know you still crave my cock so that little show was obviously a ploy for my attention.”

“It wasn’t! I didn’t want to dance with her, I swear, Keir-” Eris argued only to gasp when Azriel moved his arm away from his throat to grab a fistful of his long, styled mane. “Fuck, Az…”

“Look at how quickly you submit for me, prince.” He smirked, biting his bottom lip as he shoved his head back into the wall to expose his throat. “You were just dying for me to stake my claim for you in there, to fuck you in front of everyone and show them who owns you.”

Before Eris could protest Azriel had wedged his thigh between his legs, pressing up against him at just the right angle that had the redhead groaning. “You’ve got my attention, fox, what is you want?”

“You, fuck, I want you.” Eris crumbled faster than cake as his voice turned into a whine, his eyes half-lidded. “Please, Gods I’ve missed you so much. I need you, Azriel.”

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me,” Azriel tsked, lowering his mouth to his throat and grazing it with his teeth. “Come now, be a good boy and try again.”

Eris’s throat bobbed as he took a shuddering breath, feeling a wet spot forming on the front of his pants from how pent up he was as he whispered, “Please, Sir. Please touch me.”

He could feel the Shadowsinger’s lips turn up in a smirk as he whispered praises into his skin, his hand wandering up until he was palming him through his pants. Eris’s reaction was immediate, his back arching and hips rising to get more as he remained pinned against the wall.

It was torture, sweet torture, as he kept the pressure just light enough to keep his pleasure from growing as he kissed his way up the High Lord’s neck. Azriel paused over his mouth, his gaze drinking in the neediness on Eris’s face, before kissing him passionately.

The closet was too small for actual sex but that didn’t stop the two of them from grinding against each other, their tongues dancing together sensually as Eris fisted his hands in his lover’s hair. Azriel growled, pulling away to suck a deep bruise onto his neck, marking his territory before he placed a hand on Eris’s shoulder and shoved him to his knees.

“Worship me, prince. Show me how much you’ve missed me.” He purred, running his fingers through Eris’s hair as he made quick work of Azriel’s laces to free his cock. It was long and thick, dripping with precum and begging to be shoved down his throat which is exactly what Eris planned to do.

His mouth opened wide and Az wasted no time in shoving himself all the way inside, his eyes closing as the tip of his dick hit the back of his throat. Eris gagged, trying to breathe through his nose as he looked up at the God above him. Azriel’s shadows were peeking over his shoulders as his eyes practically glowed in the dim light of the room, his aura absolutely dominating as he clicked his tongue.

“Much better use for that mouth.” He taunted, gathering the long strands of hair in his hand before he started to fuck into his mouth. “You can feel free to go back to that girl after we’re done…though I doubt you’ll be able to speak after this.”

Eris tried to garble out something but Azriel wasn’t interested in what he had to say, more focused on using him to get off as his balls hit the High Lord’s chin with how hard he was going. The sounds coming from his mouth were filthy as drool leaked out the side of his lips, his hands desperately trying to free his own cock.

The musk of sex and sweat was making him dizzy as he finally got his dick out. He thanked the Mother that Azriel didn’t say anything to stop him, allowing him that small bit of pleasure as he started furiously jerking himself off. One of his hands braced itself on the Illyrian’s thigh while the other fisted his cock, squeezing tightly when he got to the top as he slobbered all over Az’s member.

“Such a desperate, pathetic little fox,” Azriel grunted, his eyebrows furrowed together. “A needy, greedy slut for this cock, for me. The only thing you’re good for is for me to use and abuse, isn’t that right?”

He pulled him off his cock for a moment, waiting for an answer, to which Eris moaned out, “Yes Sir.”

“Gods, your mouth was made for sucking cock.” Az growled as he shoved himself back in his mouth, throwing his head back as he felt the first tingles of his approaching orgasm creeping up his spine. “What would that woman think if she saw you like this, hm? Saw you on your knees for me, the Spymaster of the Night Court?”

The thought of others seeing him like this made him feel shamefully more excited as he stroked himself faster, his moans vibrating around his lover’s dick which only added to his pleasure.

“You love the thought of that, don’t you? Imagine if we didn’t have to hide. If I could just take you wherever, whenever I wanted.” The Shadowsinger sped up as image after image flooded his brain. “In the courtyard, on your throne, on the dining table, I would fuck you so much that there wouldn’t be an inch of your body that wasn’t covered in my cum.”

“Please, please, please,” Eris wailed around him, his eyes rolling back into his head as he suddenly found himself on the edge of bliss. “I want it, I want it so bad, Sir.”

“You know the rules, prince.” He reprimanded, tightening his grasp.

Eris blinked away tears as he focused all his attention on making Azriel cum, knowing that as soon as he came Eirs could as well. His tongue toyed with the underside of his cock every time it slid in, his throat constricting around him while his hand went up to fondle his heavy balls.

Azriel’s hips started to stutter as he slammed his cock all the way into his throat, ignoring his gasps for breath as he growled loudly and emptied himself into his mouth. Eris swallowed like the good boy he was, drinking it down like wine as he went back to playing with himself.

It didn’t take Eris long to find his own release as Az pulled his softening cock from his throat, his cum dribbling out of his mouth as Eris threw his head back and moaned deeply with each spurt of cum that came out his cock.

Both of them were breathing heavily, a small pool of cum staining the floor as Eris closed his eyes and sagged to the ground.

“I’ll give you a moment to rest, High Lord, before we go back out there,” Azriel smirked, tucking himself back into his pants as he crouched down and caught some of his own cum trickling out the side of his mouth. “I suggest you make a quick excuse to leave and meet me in my chambers within the hour lest you let everyone smell cum on your tongue.”

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velidewrites · 5 months

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Don’t Look Back

Five hundred years ago, the humans fought hard for their freedom in the Great War and won. Now, their former masters seek retribution in a rebellion that grows stronger year by year. When Elain Archeron finds out marrying Greysen Nolan might be the only solution to keep her family safe from the ancient, cruel Fae, she doesn't hesitate to fulfil her duty. What Elain doesn't know, though, is that the man with the fiery hair and russet eyes is not her fiancé, but his killer—and when she finally finds out, well…it will be far too late to turn back.

Rating: Explicit

Notes: Happy Holidays @rainbowdolphinrealm! I absolutely loved being your Secret Santa for the @acotargiftexchange and getting to know you over the past few weeks! My little elf has told me there may be some Azris angst in the background, and a surprise Azris treat is also sleighing your way soon 👀

Read on AO3 or continue for Chapter 1 below!

*Please note that for reasons beyond my control (insanity) I have given this fic way too much lore. Here is a map I've drawn!

Chapter 1: The Visitor

Elain had never thought she would be dreading the spring. It was the season her gardens bloomed, the season that melted the lakes around the manor to reflect the fluffy clouds dotting the sky above. The flowers she’d planted over the harvest would sprout to life, their sleepy buds erupting into colours Elain would dream of all winter. Two years ago, her father had gifted her the most extraordinary tulips for her birthday, the intricate paintings over the pack of seeds promising shades of violet she’d never seen in New Prythian. He’d brought them right from the fields of the Montesere province far on the Continent with a vow to bring her along on his travels next year—so that she could see their beauty for herself.

Her mother died the spring after.

Father had gone anyway, but Elain—Elain stayed. She had lost all desire to travel, anyway, especially when the circumstances of the death had hardly been expected. The Continent had assured them the Fae rebellion was not a threat to be taken seriously, and that the Governor had everything under control. Out of the eight human clans looking after their world, Lord Nolan had perhaps been the only one Elain would put her trust in. If he claimed the scattered remains of the faeries of old were entirely harmless, then it must have been the truth.

Until a small group of them had broken into the Merchant’s manor and killed his wife in her sleep, with magic so corrupted and vile that not even a speck of blood had left a stain on her sheets. One moment, she was deep in a peaceful slumber, and the next, she was simply…gone.

Everything had happened very quickly after that. Orders had come in from wherever Father had sailed off to, and the manor had been fortified with ash-dipped iron from Vallahan—made by the Forge himself—and spells Father had acquired from his trades with the North. All entirely legal and ratified by the Governor—according to Father, at least. Elain knew better than to ever question the Merchant.

The manor, though fortified to the teeth, had not been enough to keep Elain or either of her sisters safe. The very last order came in with the Merchant himself, a rare smile on their father’s deep-creased face as he announced it to his daughters. Elain had never seen Nesta so horrified as her older sister had been in that moment—pale as the moon, whiter than the sheets their mother had died in. For Nesta Archeron, the eldest daughter of the feared Merchant of New Prythian, was to marry.

Somewhere along his usual search for old faerie artifacts, abandoned over the centuries after the Great War, Father had found his way into an alliance that would secure his territory’s position on the island. With Nesta’s marriage, there would be no Fae slipping past his borders, no other clan opposing him—no human ruler to ever deny him whatever faerie secrets they’d been holding in their keep. It was an alliance that rattled the seas all the way to the Governor’s seat in Rask—perhaps even crooked the crown on his greying head an inch.

Nesta, after all, had been promised to none other than Tomas Mandray. To the son of the Harvester.

Every human territory had a role to play in the new world order—after the Great War, order seemed to be exactly what the humans needed. Their freedom, won by bloodshed and sacrifice, broke them free as slaves of the Fae. Elain still dreamed of the horrid images her governess’s books taught her—of humans in chains, gleaming with white-hot magic, burning spells into their skin that made any chance of escape nearly impossible. Had it not been for the courage of the six ruling queens, all hope would have been lost. Five hundred years later, it would have been Elain in those chains, her sisters, her Father, even the all-powerful Governor. Even the Harvester.

His territory—the dark, somber island of Hybern—was one Elain would never so much as think of travelling to. Pretending the work the Harvester did there did not exist made everyone’s lives a lot easier. While the Merchant dealt with old Fae artifacts and traded them across borders, the Harvester’s work involved a lot more of getting one’s hands dirty. Enchanted faerie objects, after all, were not the only things believed to have valuable properties. High Fae hearts, for example, promised a long life, untainted by illness.

And the Harvester…well, the Harvester delivered them. Amongst many others.

The marriage had taken place shortly after the summer, and neither Elain nor her father had been invited to witness the nuptials. She had simply watched the ship sail off West as she lost yet another sister.

She would not think about that right now—not when spring had finally arrived again. Soon, her tulips would bloom again, flecks of pinks and violets shining softly under the young, shy rays of sunlight. Elain would not be there to witness it—right after Nesta’s marriage, Father had left for the Continent again, and this time, Elain expected the order.

She was to be married next.

My dearest Elain,

It is with a full heart that I bring you the joyous news of our latest triumph. I have successfully docked in Saetre, and the Governor has received me warmly—as expected. As I’m sure you have already guessed, he was most pleased with the offerings I have bestowed him. You’ve seen them yourself—the old Illyrian dagger seems to be his favourite as of right now, though I have not yet even shown him the rest of the treasure I have acquired from the Wildlands. I can already imagine his eyes light up as I hand him the pair of wings your sister had sent in from Hybern. I shall convince him to display it right above his throne, I think—a testament to Nesta’s success.

Our deliberations commenced shortly after dinner—a roast turkey and the most exquisite stew, if you’re interested. I have already sent a footman along with a separate letter containing the recipe—so that you may have the maid try it out in the weeks before my return. Winters in Rask are quite unforgivable, and I must admit a hearty meal like this was exactly what I needed. Rask rears its own livestock, you know—an impressive one, too, if I do say so myself. To not be dependent on Braemar for your dinner plans—imagine that! I am growing quite tired of the Huntsman raising his prices every harvest. Ridiculous.

Anyway, I digress. Rask has consumed my attention entirely, as I’m sure you can tell. I am confident you would enjoy it here, too. Winters are rough, yes—but I remember how much you’ve always wanted to visit the provinces in the West. Just imagine your beloved tulip fields, illuminated by golden sunlight—imagine being able to see them at your whim. What a life that would be, would it not?

My sweet Elain, I am writing to tell you that it could be. You know how dear our family has always been to me—but you, my beautiful daughter, have always been closest to my ageing heart. It is precisely why I had devoted all my efforts, all my resources, into this agreement. Elain, it is one for the pages of history. A union like no other.

You see, the Governor—Lord Nolan, our very ruler himself—was so impressed with your dowry, and concerned with the fate of our family in the past year—that he had offered his son, nay, his heir, as a candidate worthy of your hand. Your hand in marriage, Elain.

Indeed, the past year has brought our family hardship unlike ever before. I do mourn your mother still, and the loss of our young Feyre continues to be a fresh wound in my heart. It is only fair we honour them, would you not agree? Your sister, your brave, headstrong sister, has already taken that first step—and look how happy she is with the Harvester’s son. She holds power like no other human in our family ever had—right now, she is perhaps the most powerful woman in Prythian. Perhaps even more than the Siren herself. Elain, with your beauty, your grace, your heart—you could outshine them both.

I am sure you were too young to remember meeting Greysen Nolan—you were only five, after all, and he only twelve—but he has grown into a fine young man, and as heir to the Governor, he is the most eligible bachelor our world has to offer. A fine marriage like this would give us the protection we need—New Prythian would never have to deal with faerie filth again. Our people would be safe, Elain—and all because of you. My beautiful Princess.

I do hope this news brings some comfort to your healing heart. Lord Nolan has bestowed his son with a title prior to your official engagement. The Visitor, as your fiancé is now called, has taken on the role of supervising all clans and their work—of ensuring their role in our world guarantees our continued survival amid the growing rebellions in Old Prythian and Vallahan. Elain, as wife to the Visitor, your dream will finally come true—you shall accompany him on all his travels, see the world as you’ve always wished! It brings me joy to know I have assured you that fate.

I am to remain in Rask until the snow melts. The Visitor and I shall set sail for home with the coming of spring, and we shall host a celebration in your honour. An engagement ball envied in the eyes of any other young lady in Prythian, New and Old!

I am told Greysen (is it too soon to address him as such, do you think? He is to be my son-in-law) enjoys roses the most. Perhaps you could show some thought and consideration and embroider a pattern on your ball gown? I trust that this letter gives you enough time in advance. You’ve always been so skilled at crafts and other projects of creative character.

Be safe, my sweet Elain. Better times are coming—and sooner than you think!

With love,

The Merchant

Elain discarded the letter on her nightstand, thinking she might puke if she so much as tried glancing upon it again. From the neat, elegant cursive to the tone of the very words, the message reeked of her Father—of the Merchant . There were so many things wrong with its contents that the anger she’d been stifling in the pit of her stomach for the past few weeks had bubbled all over again, threatening to burn its way up her throat. Elain had never been any good at art—that was Feyre, the Merchant’s other daughter the Fae had only taken a few months ago. Taken and never returned. She was likely dead, her body discarded somewhere in the Wildlands. And Father didn’t even care.

He didn’t care that it was him Elain had always wanted to travel with, not Greysen Nolan, not anyone else. He’d promised to bring her along, at least once. Now, it was too late. He would lose his final daughter—for the safety of New Prythian. Naturally.

A new wave of guilt crashed into her with a sudden force, killing the fire inside her with little effort. She didn’t want the marriage, that much was true—but, her father’s personal agenda or not, the Fae rebellion was as real as the Visitor, no doubt already sailing her way. The Fae, though very few in number thanks to the work of the human clans, still posed a very real threat—her mother and sister were the prime example of how dangerous those creatures were. Five hundred years ago, they’d nearly won the War—had nearly rid the world of all humans and enslaved whoever remained. Until the humans turned their own magic against them—and took their freedom back. They have continued to preserve it ever since.

The clans of Old Prythian had always been successful in dwindling the numbers of whoever remained—the Fae, in all their mighty immortality, could hold out for centuries, using their magic to roam the lands in secret. Three hundred years ago, most of them had been pushed far north to the Wildlands, old faerie territories Elain had read about in her studies. There was little information on the former Solar Courts and their rulers—other than that the most powerful of them had a history of cruelty that could make the Harvester himself flinch in horror. Some part of her was glad the territory had been reduced to rubble—that, at the very least, the humans’ ancient killers could no longer rely on their fortresses to lock them all up.

She had seen the Huntsman’s reports on recent rebel activity in Braemar, though. The faeries may have been few, yes, but those foolish enough to crawl out of the Wildlands caused problems that would usually send shivers down Elain’s spine. The Huntsman’s own daughter, stationed in the North under the Guardian’s protection, had been slaughtered no more than six years ago when their outpost was attacked. Father had told her stories of fresh, crimson blood, gleaming on the thick, white coat of snow.

For what had to have been the hundredth time in the past few weeks, Elain debated that perhaps, an alliance with the Governor’s son would not be such a terrible thing. She may not have known him—let alone harboured any affection for him—but their marriage would strengthen the clans. If she married Greysen, perhaps no one else’s daughters would be slaughtered, no one else’s mothers killed in their sleep or sisters hunted in the forests surrounding their own homes. Elain could protect them—in whatever way she could.

Either way, she had no choice.

***

The forest rippled with the sound of teeth tearing into flesh. Over the centuries, they had grown longer— sharper , which was just as well. He needed as much protection as he could get these days, especially with weapons so difficult to come by. The camp was already growing unsettled, and he could feel the tension weighing on the air whenever he returned. The past few winters had been difficult enough.

The coming of spring was a welcome change. Spring meant they could hunt—the new year brought on as many animals as it had opportunities. The prey in his arms, grasped by the claws he’d sunk deep into its skin, just so happened to be both.

And what an opportunity it was. They’d been wishing for it for decades—centuries, even, or perhaps even more. Like many others, he found himself losing count of the passing years. They all seemed the same—eat, sleep, move, hide. Kill had only recently started to disrupt his routine. Yet another change he welcomed.

He spat out the blood, nose wrinkling with distaste as if on instinct, and watched as the liquid settled into the mossy earth. The body fell to the ground a moment after, leaving a heavy thud in its wake, heavy enough that he could have sworn it echoed between the trees. He would get an earful for not being careful later. The thought made his eyes roll as he wiped his nails clean on his crumpled shirt.

He pulled it over his arms, then, letting the fabric float away with the gentle spring breeze, and took a deep, steadying breath. The small, golden rays of sunlight peering through the budding leaves warmed his bare chest, and he tilted his head up to the sky, soaking up the sensation until the quiet gurgle at his feet inevitably commanded the return of his attention.

He sighed, kicking away the arm resting on his boot. The body rolled to the side, baring the unpleasant face to his sight yet again. For what must have been the fourth time in the past two minutes, he felt himself grimace. Something so ugly should not have been this finely dressed.

This, however, was a problem he could easily take care of. Holding his breath to avoid the stench of his prey’s spilling guts, he kneeled to free it from the immaculate, navy-blue jacket, dark, charcoal trousers and boots before its blood managed to stain them. The formerly pristine shirt was unfortunately already lost to him, though he supposed his own would do just fine.

For a split second, he wondered if the body should be buried. It would take little effort on his part, and he knew it had been travelling with a party before trailing off the carriage path to piss. It would be best to not leave any evidence behind, lest any of the man’s companions decided to follow their master and look for relief in the forest as well.

He sighed again, a sound he feared was starting to become a signature of his lately. With a flick of his hand, the dirt rustled quietly, and the ground parted, swallowing the body entirely.

Good. This was good. He only wished he’d taken a good look at the man’s face before letting the worms dig into the body he’d so benevolently left open for them. He needed the memory unscathed for the spell, and right now, he could not for the life of him remember the colour of his prey’s eyes. Oh, well.

He got dressed quickly, finding the fabric a little too tight in the shoulders. Come to think of it, the trousers also seemed to be a tight fit, his thighs unusually restrained by the silken threads. He would have to walk more slowly, he supposed. Ripping his seams open in front of dozens of humans was hardly the surprise he’d spent the past two months carefully devising.

Rising to his full height, he closed his eyes then as though for concentration. The tingling on his skin was hardly pleasant, but he endured it all the same until the memory in his mind finally faded away. There was no stream nearby to look over his reflection, but he knew the glamour had worked, anyway. It always did.

To those who knew the man he’d just murdered, he would appear as Greysen Nolan—the newly titled Visitor, hell, the Governor’s own firstborn son. He couldn’t help but smirk.

It seemed that Daddy was in for one hell of a disappointment.

***

Elain could not breathe in her gown.

“Just a few more minutes, Princess,” the seamstress repeated, the sound muffled through the needle she’d clenched between her teeth.

The nickname did little to ease her nerves. The Princess was hardly her official title, but her father insisted the staff—that everyone in New Prythian called his one remaining daughter as such. She used to adore it as a little girl, though upon further reflection, she had no doubt she’d earned a few spoiled brat ’s in those years. Still, the name seemed to have stuck, and, as she always did, Elain felt her cheeks flush furiously in response.

“I’m not a princess, Lavinia,” she reminded the seamstress, trying her best not to make her tone sound too pointed.

The woman scoffed. “You might as well be, Lady Archeron. The Visitor is a titled man, and if that wasn’t enough, he is the Governor’s heir.” She adjusted the ribbons adorning Elain’s sleeve. “Our royalty may be long gone, but everyone knows the throne resides at Rask.”

Elain hummed. “There is a reason we are no longer ruled by six queens. To anoint a new monarchy would be to dishonour their sacrifice.”

The seamstress scrambled quickly, “Of course, Lady Archeron. I only meant—the Governor holds a lot of power in the realm.”

Elain sighed and looked into the mirror. “I suppose that much is true.”

“You don’t seem very excited,” Lavinia remarked, meeting Elain’s gaze in her reflection. “Surely the Visitor is an excellent match?”

“Certainly,” Elain nodded. But excellent was not someone Elain was looking for. She wasn’t looking for anyone, truthfully, and yet here she stood, watching Lavinia touch up her gown for the final time before her engagement ball was to commence. “This is good, I think. You’ve done a wonderful job—as always.”

The seamstress offered her a smile. “Try to be happy, Princess.”

“Of course,” Elain lied.

It was clear enough that Lavinia had left her alone, quietly excusing herself out of the room. Elain could hear her mutter instructions to the guards at her door—she was to be escorted downstairs, whenever she was ready. Apparently, guests had already begun pouring in, and the Visitor was to make his grand entrance shortly.

Elain hadn’t even seen Father yet. Wherever he was, he clearly would make his appearance once the public had gathered in full.

It was to be expected, but Elain felt her heart sink nonetheless. She could use a few words of encouragement right now. Usually, it had been Feyre offering them without Elain even having to ask. But Feyre was gone. Had been gone for a while.

And she wasn’t coming back.

Exhaling shakily, Elain looked into her own eyes in the mirror, ignoring the tear welling up in one corner, her expression stern.

“You’re doing this for them ,” she told herself. “For Feyre, and for Mother, and for Nesta, so that no one else has to suffer like they had.”

Her reflection nodded, the pearls in her ears sparkling with the movement. She breathed out again, one last time, and braced herself for the three quiet knocks on her door.

“It’s time, Princess,” the order sounded shortly after. Elain, of course, obeyed.

The gown was a pain to walk in. It was beautiful, to be sure—she hadn’t lied when she’d complimented Lavinia’s work—though that hardly made it a comfortable garment to wear. Elain appreciated the way the corset hugged her curves, or the way it perked up her breasts, but she also appreciated being able to take a breath without immediately choking on it. She had never squeezed into a dress so impossibly tight. The flowers—roses—crafted by the ruffles of tulle rested attached at her hips, the ribbons of her sleeves caressing them as Elain made her way down the hall. The gown spilled down her body in petals of ivory and a dusty pink, making Elain herself look like a blossoming rose, floating with every step.

She almost enjoyed the thought until she remembered Father’s letter once again—until she remembered Greysen Nolan’s favourite flowers were, in fact, roses, and the gown’s very design served to appeal to his tastes instead of her own.

Had it not been for the guard’s heavy boots sounding behind her, Elain would have entertained the idea of turning back. Would Father drag her downstairs himself? Would he lock her up in Greysen’s carriage and ship her off without second thought? Elain had never once thought her own engagement ceremony would ever feel like an execution. And yet, here she was, followed closely by the Merchant’s personal guard, dressed up like a doll for a man she didn’t even know.

The somber thought accompanied her down the marble steps spiralling down to the ballroom, consuming her so thoroughly she could hardly feel the countless stares watching her every more. Father must have invited more people than she’d thought—dignitaries from all over the island, perhaps even the Continent itself.

Perhaps her seamstress was right—perhaps Rask was the closest they could get to royalty, and Elain truly could not have found a more advantageous match. She also could not have married at all.

But then she met her father’s gaze, and the guilt hit her with a familiarity that nearly swayed her off the stairs.

His eyes—brown, exactly the shade of her own—were shining with pride so unabashed she could not help but smile in his direction. She was doing all of this for him, too was she not? For her family—so that they may never see misfortune again. Nesta had been strong enough to proceed with her own match. Why should Elain be any different? She could do this—otherwise, watching that pride dim from her father’s gaze might just be the thing that killed her.

Slowly, she made her way up the dais to meet his extended hand. Behind them, two high chairs she supposed had been made to resemble thrones sat waiting for the Lord and Lady to be. Elain’s heart quickened in the constraints of her corset.

“This is real, Elain,” Father murmured over her shoulder, as though he could hear how loudly her heart thumped in her chest. If he did, he’d grossly misinterpreted the reason behind it. “This is truly happening.”

Elain swallowed something thick in her throat, and forced another smile as she turned to face him at last. “I know, Father.”

The white of his teeth nearly outmatched the chandeliers above. “You look absolutely spectacular,” he complimented, his smile wider as he noted the tulle roses. “Are you ready to meet your husband?”

She supposed there was no turning back now.

Father nodded to the guards. “Invite the Visitor in.”

Every single head in the ballroom turned as two, white-gloved hands turned the golden, ornate knobs and swung the doors open.

Elain held her breath—then counted to three. Four. Five.

On seven, he entered.

She’d spotted his jacket first—a deep navy-blue adorned with fine, silken thread. Fitted, charcoal trousers and boots, echoing quietly off the marble floor as the Visitor finally stepped into the light.

Elain’s breath caught in her throat.

He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

His long hair was like molten fire, a stark contrast against the depth of his jacket. Shades of red, auburn and orange, falling down his back in waves as the firelight danced on his golden brown skin—almost like greeting an old friend. There was something raw about his beauty—he was hardly one of the perfect, polished aristocrats she’d danced with at other balls. No, there was a cruelty about him—as if he’d been crafted by the same flame that gleamed playfully atop the chandeliers warming her skin, melting every guard she’d ensured to build up, every reason she could think of that made him the worst fate the world had in store for her.

Elain could have sworn that fire sizzled in his russet eyes as he reached the dais—as he stopped before her and bowed at the waist.

When he looked up again, their gazes locked and held. “It is an honour to make your acquaintance, Lady Archeron,” he greeted, his voice smooth and deep. “My name is Greysen Nolan.”

#this looks like a cover of a reverse harem novel I PROMISE YOU IT IS NOT #there is a perfectly acceptable amount of smut in this fic #we're just going purely off vibes #and the map LOL #acotar gift exchange #elucien #pro elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien fic #elucien fanfiction #acotar #my writing

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secret-third-thing · 7 months

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For your prompts post, I wanted to request something with Eris preparing for or fighting in a blood duel! I'm biased towards neris or azris for the pairing, but whatever direction you felt like taking it in would also be perfect :)

SORRY THIS IS SO LATE I got distracted by monster fucking fics. ANYWAY Eris is prepping for a blood duel. Normally I agonize over shit for days (and rewrite it a million times) so this is a new posting record for me. Also I somehow didn't break my 500 word rule. Enjoy!!

This is technically on A03 too but it's short enough to read here.

The duel was to begin shortly after dawn. Eris waited in his chambers as several servants scurried around, strapping the outer layers of his armor onto him. Today, they were as silent as they were meticulous, anxious about the battle to come.

The week prior Eris had issued a challenge to Cassian: a blood duel for his mate. It was unconventional, and Beron wasn’t pleased, but the promise of a daughter-in-law gifted by the cauldron was enough to ease his father’s skepticism. Rhysand, of course, was infuriated, ending their fragile alliance. But it didn’t matter, not when Nesta Archeron would become his wife, his partner.

“Sir, the emissary from Night is here,” a servant said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Well, bring him in,” Eris replied. He waved the servants away, leaving him to finish preparing for the fight ahead. From the mirror’s reflection, Eris observed Lucien’s worried expression as he entered the room.

His youngest brother was dressed in a tailored navy vest buttoned over one of those flowy shirts he had worn ever since he lived in the spring court. Still, the outfit was distinctly from Night, with little stars embroidered on the shoulders mimicking a midnight sky.

“Asking me to reconsider?” Eris drawled.

“You know this won’t end well.” Lucien only said. He watched Eris’s face in the mirror. The older male betrayed no emotion.

“I thought after Tamlin you’d stop licking the boots of a high lord.”

Lucien scoffed. “That’s not what this is about.”

Eris turned around to meet his brother head on. Petty warnings would do nothing to deter him.

“So Rhysand is actually worried I’ll win against his general. Interesting.” Eris gave a wicked grin. “Unless you’re here to tell me Nesta is having second thoughts.”

Lucien shook his head, his brows furrowed as he reviewed the situation repeatedly in his mind. Lucien’s approach to diplomacy was thorough and relentless, always searching for a secret solution or loophole. “You could have chosen any other method. You’re not even her mate.”

“It seemed appropriate,” Eris said.

He would never admit that the blood duel was merely for Nesta’s benefit. Both to relieve her from the burden of choice (for Rhysand would blame for choosing anything other than Cassian), but also because whether or not she liked to admit it, Nesta seemed the type to like these gestures. And cruel as he may be, Eris had a soft spot for that. He understood wanting to be chosen. He’d choose her again and again. Blood duel or not.

Lucien shook his head as Eris brushed past him.

“I hope this is worth it to you,” he said.

“She is.”

#eris vanserra #nesta archeron #nesta x eris #neris drabble #acotar drabble #stt asks #stt writing #eris vanserra drabble #lucien vanserra #blood duel #acotar

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fieldofdaisiies · 10 months

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summary: With their father's passing and amidst the intense conflict between the Vanserra and Hybern bank, Eris assumed the role of family head, shouldering the responsibility of both his lineage and the bank. The need for allies becomes vital, prompting a crucial decision: Lucien, Eris's younger brother and Second in Command, will have to take over responsibility — meaning, he has to alter his lifestyle and take a wife. His destined match is Elain Archeron, the daughter of a prominent and influential merchant from Venice.

warnings: blood, gore, death, explicit descriptions (rating E) other ships mentioned: Azris, Jassa, Feysand, Nessian, Tamlin & Briar, …

book cover aesthetics: Elain • Lucien • Eris • Elucien • Setting

chapter overview: Prologue • Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 • Chapter 8 • Bonus Ch. I • Chapter 9 • Chapter 10 • Chapter 11 • Chapter 12 • Chapter 13 • Chapter 14 • Chapter 15 • Chapter 16 • Chapter 17 • Bonus Ch. II • Chapter 18 • Chapter 19 • Chapter 20 • Chapter 21 • Chapter 22 • Epilogue

link ao3

for @elucienweekofficial 💛

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #elain #lucien #acotar #acosf #Spotify

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theatrequeen · 1 year

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Months ago on the Azris Discord server someone had mentioned the concept of Eris losing his memory as he aged due to the Beron's abuse from over the years, which led to this idea festering in my mind and for a while I'd thought about writing it into an actual fic, but I just don't have the time, but I still want to share the idea.

Eris dies at like 1867. He lived long enough to see his children grow up and fall in love. He got to meet his grandchildren. He’d stepped down from his High Lord mantle at around 1750 when his memory started to go. After everything that Beron had put him through eventually even his immortal body starts to give out. His mind was slipping for decades forgetting so many important things from his life. He’ll often talk about people who’ve already passed on (his Mother, Helion, Azriel’s Mother, sometimes even Beron) as if they’re still alive. He remembers Az and their children easily enough, but everything else is just a mess. All the nieces and nephews are a hot mess of names, he mixes up his brothers and who they’re all married to and whose kids belong to whom. He doesn’t remember people’s ages anymore and constantly thinks that old major events happened a lot sooner than they had been (i.e. Hybern war happened a few years ago). Lucien tried to help, searching for a spell to do something helpful, but it was pretty much impossible to find a cure as this was hardly ever seen in Fae. He eventually passes away in his sleep. Az finds out only moments after when the mating bond is cracking and eventually fades out. The funeral is at the end of the week for the beloved High Lord who’d managed to save Autumn from the hateful path that it had been led down. Eris’ body was burned and his ashes released in the wind. A gravestone was placed beneath the tree where Eris had spent so much time with Az and their children.

Az tried to stay strong for his children who’d lost their dad sooner than anyone had expected. Their daughter threw herself into her High Lady work (though with the world at peace, there wasn’t too much heavy work she constantly needed to do). She and her husband (Thesan’s eldest son) and their own children do what they can to find peace and move on in light of her dad’s death. Their son stayed in the Autumn Court as well, but Az had to leave. Everywhere he looked reminded him of his lost mate. Eris was Autumn personified so of course the Court would remind him of Eris. He traveled for a while, visited his friends and family, but seeing them all so in love and them constantly asking if he’s okay. He returns home to Autumn and is greeted by both his kids excitedly hugging him. It’d been about a year since he’d been there so after spending some time with them both he goes to visit Eris’ gravestone. He spends hours talking to him. Az admits that when he’d heard the stories of those ancient Fae who could die of a broken heart he’d thought they were absolute nonsense, but now having lost Eris, it hurts so much more that he actually understands those stories' pain. As Az sits by that tree for hours and as the sun’s setting he sees Eris standing there smiling at him, the gray gone from his hair, looking just as he had the day they’d mated. “It’s my time isn’t it?” “Only if you wish it to be.” Azriel knows the children will grieve. He knows his friends and family will be heartbroken, but he can finally see his mate again. The male he loves so much that it’s hurt to be away from for such a long time. So when Eris reached out to him he took his hand and stepped through to the otherside.

Rhys and Cassian notice something’s wrong immediately. Their bargain tattoos begin burning. Rhys was with Nyx and Feyre at a meeting with Lucien and Elain and their children in the Day Court when his tattoo started burning. Cassian was with Nesta on a date at their favorite cafe in Velaris when his are burning. Nesta winnows him to Autumn where Rhys already is cradling Az’s head in his lap. Cassian dropped to his side both the batboys trying so hard to wake Az. Rhys is in his mind and sees those final moments but still attempts to bring him back. Nesta, still practically the goddess of death, knows there’s no bringing him back. His spirit is already so far on the other side. Silently she utters the prayer she’s heard enough to make sure that he passes safely. Nesta goes to find her niece and nephew. It’s important that they know what happened. Az’s daughter was with her youngest reading a book and his son was up on a ladder pulling down a book to read. Both are surprised to see Nesta there. She pulls them both into the hall and has to tell them the news. They rush out to where Az, Cass, and Rhys are. Az’s body was cradled between his brothers, both with tears down their cheeks. Az’s kids joined them.

Azriel’s funeral was similar to Eris’. He too was burned and his ashes scattered. His name was placed next to Eris’ so that their memories would continue to live on together even though they’d both passed on. Both kids grieved again, but they also knew it was for the best. Their Baba had been miserable since their Dad’s passing (and they’d told that to their family in the other courts). He’d tried so hard to act as if he’d been able to peacefully move on as if he hadn’t lost half of his heart when their Dad had died. They’d honestly both been surprised that he’d lasted a year even. Both children made sure to make it a priority that they visit that gravestone often because without their parents, so many other’s lives would be so much worse off than if Autumn had just been left to rot and fester. Instead they’d both poured their hearts and souls into raising Autumn from the ashes so the future generations might be able to live peacefully and safely in the court that had known pain and suffering for so long.

#Azris #Azriel #eris vanserra #High Lord Eris #Azris children #Future au #Rhysand #Feyre #Nyx #Cassian #Nesta #Lucien #Elain #Helion #Beron #lady of the autumn court #Memory loss #acotar

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queercontrarian · 11 months

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azris week day 7: epilogue

AN: this week was so fun! thank you for doing this event @azrisweek

okay now on to the fluff! no content warnings, they're just disgustingly in love (also insinuated mpreg lol)

Eris found Azriel in his usual space, standing on the terrace, eyes on the horizon. His wings were open wide, catching the last warm rays of the sun. He didn't move when Eris came to stand next to him, but he reacted to the air warming around them, relaxing a little when he felt the familiar magic. Eris smiled when his husband shuffled closer to him, his large wings shielding his back from the cool shadow of the house.

They'd been spending more and more time at their estate on the coast of Caritni, especially Azriel. He fell in love with the house from the moment he first set foot in it during their honeymoon. Eris suspected it was because of the big windows. He could see both the sea and the mountains of Silesia from the balcony facing north. He knew Azriel missed the mountain wind of Illyria more than he'd ever admit and this place was the next best thing.

The house was filled with good memories spanning centuries. Azriel had spent the majority of all three pregnancies here, their children had been born and raised in these rooms. They had learned to speak and walk and fly in Caritni and even though they were all grown up now they still visited this home more than any of the others, the Forest House included.

Azriel had even considered moving his mother here but she flat out refused to leave Illyria.

"What are you thinking about?" Eris asked his husband, whose eyes were still on the sun setting over the woods and hills further inland.

"Did you bring Hila?" he replied. Eris shook his head.

"She was adamant that she wanted to finish the negotiations with Sasha before the end of the month. I have a feeling she might use my absence to light a fire under his ass." Azriel chuckled.

"After dealing with you for over a thousand years, your brother should be equipped to handle it," he said. Eris laughed, reaching for his husband's hand.

"He should."

"She works too much." Despite the neutral tone Eris could tell his mate was upset. He squeezed his hand gently. Azriel preferred Caritni over the Forest House, he always had, but while Eris was willing to winnow every night to see his mate, their eldest daughter was around much less these days.

"She's an Heir."

"Nyx doesn't work nearly as hard," Azriel pointed out. Eris gave his husband a look to show exactly what he thought of his nephew's work ethic. Then he shrugged.

"She's your daughter after all."

"Oh, so it's my fault Hila is a workaholic?" Azriel huffed. Eris bit back a laugh and shook his head, linking his fingers with Azriel's to stop him from crossing his arms to lock in his sulking.

"I'm sure she gets it from both of us," he conceded, "After all, when do we ever sit still?"

"We are right now," Azriel argued, and Eris suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Azriel trying to lecture someone else on not spending enough time on themselves was so incredibly hypocritical he would have snorted if he didn't know Azriel was genuinely worried for their daughter.

"First of all, still standing. And second, yes - after over a thousand years." Azriel just stared at him, his eyebrows raised so high they almost seemed to touch his hairline. Up close he could see a couple of grey hairs in his dark curls and Eris had to stop himself from brushing his fingers through them.

"What I'm trying to say is give her time to figure out her pace. She'll know what she can and can't handle," he concluded, and Azriel sighed.

"I guess," was all he said and Eris took that as permission to finally move in and carefully wrap his arms around his husband's torso, pulling him close as they watched the sun set over the Autumn Court.

"I love you," he murmured.

"I love you too," Azriel answered, his voice equally soft, then added, "even though you work too much too." Eris kissed him on the cheek.

"Get inside then. I'll show you just how serious I am about my work, as a High Lord, a father, and a husband." Azriel's laughter was slightly muffled as Eris kissed him again, and again, and again, until long after the sun had already disappeared beyond the hills.

#i can't believe it's over #rip azris week you were iconic #i already miss you #azris week 2023 #azris arguing about their children #like they didn't create that particular problem

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icey--stars · 11 months

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Azris Week 2023 (Index)

pictures found on Pinterest

✵ indicates smut!

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Also on Archive of Our Own here

Day 1: Prologues & Prequels: Before Everything, We Met Each Other

What happened when Azriel and Eris met each other for the first time?

Day 2: Favorite Tropes: You Cuddled Me (Part 2 | Part 3) "i want to break these bones 'till they're better" series ao3 link

Oh no... there's only one bed at the Inn and there's two of them...

Day 4: Free Day: You Do Like Cuddling

Eris had a long day of work and Azriel needs to comfort his mate.

Day 5: Alternate Universe: Vroom Vroom Motherfucker

A motorcyclist group AU and Azriel has just been forced to ride with Eris Vanserra down the highway.

Day 6: NSFW: Something New ✵

Eris has a new idea for the bedroom for Azriel, and Azriel wants to be his good boy.

Day 7: Epilogues: After Everything, You're Still Mine

With daughters and duties, they are happy.

#azrisweek2023 #azris #azriel #eris #eris vanserra #azriel x eris #eris acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #RIP DAY 3 IT HATED ME

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confessions-of-an-old-cassette · 4 months

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new writing project, you guys know what that means

NEW OC LORE

Jesse Jansen

Jesse is the eldest daughter of the Jansen family, and is known county wide as the "rebellious daughter." The kind of girl parents compare their children too, ("Well, the Smiths' son sure is wild, but he's no Jesse!"). She's a text book punk, and is constantly finding ways to undermine both the world's system and the system her parents put in place. She loves her younger sister more than life itself, and that's why she's the only person that knows what happened to her.

Ellenaor Jansen

Ellenaor is the youngest Jansen daughter, and since she was 11 years old she's had one dream: to become a pilot. But her strict Christian parents would never let her do so, but don't worry, as soon as she moves out, she's joining the Air Force. Everything is going perfectly, until an alien girl plummets into her life and changes it forever. You see, on Kolia a seer foresaw that another seer from a different world would change Kolia forever, beginning a 100 year war on whether to find her or not. Ellenaor is that seer, but she doesn't know it, not yet. But when the mysterious alien wants to bring Ellenaor into her own world, Ellenaor must face the reality of faking her own death to everyone she loves, and coming face to face that she is either a savior or a ticking time bomb.

Näkla Azri De’kalik Forfect

Born as the sole heir to the Traditionalist (the Kolian monarchy's opposition to finding the prophesied seer, later reveled to be Ellenaor) monarchy and an incredibly powerful mind reader, Näkla, better known as Kala, has no doubt her life will be a meaningful one. But when the Futurists (the Kolian people, for finding the prophesied seer) attacked the gala celebrating her 14th birthday, her whole life is tipped off balance. She joins the Kolian Space Corps is a desperate urge to prove herself, and is humiliated by being assigned as a surveyor to a small scout ship researching Earth. But what Kala learns is that a group of Traditionalists have survived, and are aiming to attack Earth. In a strange newfound love for the human people, she disobeys direct orders and sends a message to Earth, warning them. Kala falls from grace once again, and quite literally, through a thunder storm leaving her with nasty scars, but right into the arms of one Ellenaor Jansen. Kala soon realizes Ellenaor is not what she seems, but to save her people and save herself, Kala will be forced to make decisions that weigh love against faith, and loyalty above survival.

#ellenaor jansen and her shooting star #Ellenaor Kansen #Näkla Azri De’kalik Forfect #Kala #Jesse Jansen #ellenaor x kala forever btw guys #new tragic space lesbians #i never do change do i #writers #writeblr #writers on tumblr #oc lore #sci fi fantasy #sci fi ocs #magical powers #mind reading #prophecies #future sight

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achaotichuman · 4 months

Note

omg this isn't a request or anything but could you imagine Azris babysitting Toddler Dahlia for a day 💀

THEY WOULD BE STRESSED.

Lucien would smugly hand her over to eris in such a sickly sweet tone that is far too sarcastic to have any good intentions and then just run away

While Eris looks at the child in his arms, so confident that he's got this since he has so many siblings. I feel like Azriel would be the type to have no experience AT ALL and probs poke the Dahlia and then get his finger bitten off.

(many lives were lost that day)

Lucien just winnows into Eris' office, holds up his daughter and is like "Do you wanna babysit your perfect, sweet, innocent little niece?? Of course you do!!!"

Before Eris can even get a word out Lucien is pretty much shoving Dahlia into Eris' arms, goes on for a moment about how easy she is to take care of then bolts out of the office.

Dahlia is giggling and babbling in his arms, Eris is like "Well then, just you and me little one."

Azriel shows up and is like "Wtf???" And Eris is like "This is my niece aka our niece and we are taking care of her today."

Then Dahlia spots a shiny breakable on Eris' desk and is immediately like, "Gimme!"

Eris, being super responsible, goes, "No, no that could hurt you if it breaks."

Dahlia looks up at Eris, and in the most serious voice a toddler can manage, says, "Gimme."

Eris says, "No."

Claws are out, there is screaming, there is crying, there is blood, there are bruises and there are tears. Azriel runs to the nearest corner and is hiding, while Eris is cursing and trying to tear this tiny ball of furry fury off of him.

Eris only manages to calm Dahlia down by lighting a nearby chair on fire, and ofc Dahlia being the chaos gremlin she is, is immediately like, "ooooh fire!" And forgets all about the shiny breakable.

So now the fear of Dahlia has been slapped into Eris and Azriel.

And the day is full of chaos, Eris still tries to say no and teach Dahlia she cannot get everything she wants, she does not take this very well.

Azriel is hiding from behind a chair, whenever Eris brings Dahlia into the room, Azriel either leaves or gets as far away as he can.

Then Dahlia is overtired, which means more outbursts and more destruction.

And then Azriel decides, 'I don't know anything about children, but when I was a kid, my shadows sung to me to calm me down and I'm desperate, so let's give that a shot."

So from the corner of the room, Azriel is hidden in his shadows and starts singing a lullaby. And Dahlia hears it and is like 'Interesting... this pleases me.' And she goes to sleep.

Eris is incriedbly indignant that Azriel was the one to get her to sleep so he hands Dahlia over to him and is like "You know what, you deal with her."

Azriel then does paperwork with Dahlia asleep in his arms, whenever she starts to fuss he hums under his breaths and she falls asleep again. Azriel is now smitten with his niece in law (Is that what she would be to him??)

Anyway, then Dahlia wakes up and is alight with energy and tries to bite Azriel in the wing.

Thankfully around this time Tamlin shows up to collect her and is like "Alright thats enough time to go home."

Tam has now developed a system for Dahlia, cause turns out all that biting and lashing out is because she's teething really badly. So, he shifts antlers, puts her on his head and Dahlia immediately chews on them and is happy again.

Then Tamlin's like "Thanks for looking after her, I know she's a handful!"

And off he goes.

Eris is now slamming his head into his desk because, of course, of course, of course it was teething!

Though when Dahlia is 200, she still likes to affectionately bite people so maybe it wasn't just teething :D

#this would be hilarious tho #so chaotic #so full of fun times #the fun times are really only for dahlia #azriel is still smitten #even after she bites him #who wouldn't be?#acotar #pro tamlin #tamlin #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #azris #tamcien #tamlin's daughter #acotar headcanons #acotar au

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thexuntamed · 4 years

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As a parent, Ahkiriel’s not into spoiling his children. He raised most of his oldest children in the Rogue Territories while he was the de facto leader and it was hard keeping them safe while trying to raise them with all their individual needs. Haneh and the older boys, Xavlis and Rylen weren’t hard species wise, their needs simple enough when it came to training their elements and physicalities.

Skaea, his valkyrie daughter and Xena, his werewolf daughter, were different stories all together. Skaea from a young age was constantly in the air, flying anywhere and everywhere. She started combat training before she could walk, her sheer physical strength and stamina making it a necessity. The kid needed an outlet for all that energy. Skaea was simply too independent and stubborn to not have a regimen for her.

Xena was the opposite, free spirited and very family orientated, constantly in everyone’s business. The young wolf had a deeply ingrained sense of pack, her needs simply were hard to meet as a single father. Haneh often became a surrogate mother for her younger siblings because she was at least a thousand years older than even Skaea. Xena still left home as soon as she came of age to join a shifter pack, but the placements never seemed to last for long. She never found the right click that she needed to thrive outside the family.

Xavlis and Rylen were close with all their sisters, but especially each other since they were found and adopted together. They were inseparable, even moving out with each other when they got old enough. Ahki always had a particular soft spot for the boys, understanding the bond that they had with each other, though he missed that same bond with his own brothers. He would go out of his way to make certain they felt wanted and included in the family, showing them a kind and patient love.

Razrin was the first child that Ahki raised with his mates, Fekik and Zerak. Azri was also a fairly independent but sensitive child. He’s close with all his parents, but especially Fei and almost treats Fei as a child some times because of his need to protect. Ahki sees that and tries his best to just let Azri be a young man, though he’s stricter than usually after the substance abuse and the trauma.

Adaeza was a surprise adoption, one that was almost forced on Fei. She was a mystery babe found in an orphanage, placed with Ahki because she was a djinn. While extremely intelligent and beautiful, she had crippling social anxiety her entire life and a definite lack of natural abilities. If not for her slight telekinesis and ability to wish for objects, she might as well have been a human when she reached adulthood. She was definitely the most sheltered out of any of the children.

The youngest boy, Areix is a bit of a cry baby but adorable in the fact that he loves his fathers, even gruff Zerak. Reix is still young, just coming into maturity. Arsini is still a baby and very much a princess.

#~this got a bit long #~But I wanted to talk about Ahki raising his kids a bit more #~might do their individual relationships with him a bit more if I feel like it later #~Rebel Wings Guide Him Home {Ahki HC}~

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sarah-bae-maas · 6 years

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A Court of Hearts and Darkness Chapter Thirty

It’s been over a century since the epic and bloody war against Hybern, but a new, unprecedented horror lies in wait to threaten everything the Inner Circle holds dear.

At a mere 17, it seems that the only one who can save them is the Heir to the Night Court, Feyre and Rhysand’s daughter Eleana, but as a creature so vile promises to kill everyone she loves, she must combat the urge to succumb to the darkness herself. The key to success lies hidden within her mate, the bastard born Kaden, who is as oblivious to the bond as her Court is oblivious to the war on the horizon.

With the help of her cousin and warrior Felix, the son of the famed Nesta and Cassian, they will try to save everything they hold dear, hopefully before the darkness takes them all.

(This fic was written pre-acowar, so please bear in mind there are some small differences but it can still hopefully be enjoyed!)

Link on Ao3 Masterlist

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-Chapter 30-

Rhys sat in the atrium turned war room, calmly waiting as the other High Lords and their entourages sat. Or more rather he looked calm. He felt sick to his stomach, clutching Feyre’s hand tightly.

They were all in a wide circle, the middle taken up by a round table with a map of Prythian covering it. Places where there were confirmed creature attacks were highlighted in red, suspected attacks blue, and potential attacks yellow. All the potential places had been compiled by Cassian and Azriel over the last twenty-four hours, and Rhys was sure more of the map would become the colour once the other courts had their input.

Rhys leant back to where Cassian was sitting behind him. “Where are Azriel and Kaden?” he hissed.

“They’re not coming, some issue arose. Az said they would try to make it.”

“Is he kidding? This is not the time for something else.”

Cassian shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you other than I’m sure it’s important.”

Rhys sighed and tightened his grip on his wife.

“Thank you all for coming after the events of this morning,” Feyre opened after they’d all sat and settled.

The tension in the room was so thick it felt like you were inhaling it with every breath. Rhys stared at them all – the trauma their courts faced evident in everyone. To his left was Lucien, who had the least amount of deaths in his court but the most physical destruction. Next to him was Glaslane, his hair in disarray and his clothes still stained from the battle this morning. Rhys sympathised with the young fae; it was his first true battle, all the other High Lords seasoned warriors at this point. Thesan had not donned his usual ornamental gold and ruby clothing, he too still wearing his battle clothes. The Dawn court had the highest number of fatalities among the courts, including the youngest brother of Thesan’s mate – a gut-wrenching loss for the males. This was especially devastating, as the majority of his Peregryn forces were across the sea collecting information on a project Thesan didn’t disclose. Kallias, next in the circle with Viviane close at his side, was lucky in battle. They were, by random chance and the luck of the Cauldron, having their annual Winter Games. All his soldiers and most of his citizens were in the capital, meaning his army could more easily defend the Court. Helion had not been so lucky, the High Lord gravely injured himself, unable and not willing to find a healer until the creatures were gone. His right arm was in a sling, and it was unclear if he would ever have full use of it again. Lastly, on Rhysand’s right, was Tarquin. Without the Night Court forces Rhys had been able to provide, the damage would have been much, much worse, but it was still significant.

Rhys didn’t know what the others were thinking. He couldn’t imagine the thoughts running through their heads at such a sudden attack. There was a war on the way, and until today they didn’t even know about it.

“I appreciate the pleasantries, Feyre, but we did not come here for that.” Thesan’s voice sounded like gravel as a body was dragged along it. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend that it wasn’t your daughter who ravaged my court.”

“It wasn’t Eleana,” Feyre began.

“I saw her with my own eyes,” Viviane finished. “She was at our Court too.”

“And mine,” Glaslane said, though it clearly pained him. He and Eleana were friends, and it would hurt him to think she was capable of such things.

“We know, but please listen to us,” Rhys begged. “We know it was Eleana, but it wasn’t really her.” Rhys gave them an edited version of what had happened to his daughter, making no elusions to the possibility that she may have done this herself nor that Felix was dead.

“Rhys, you know I think highly of you, but I wouldn’t put it past you to lie if your daughter was in danger. How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Tarquin asked.

“I don’t need to tell you stories of her, you all know her well. Tarquin, she came to you months ago about attacks she feared were related to each other. Varian can attest to the grief we have felt losing her.”

“With all due respect, that means nothing Rhysand. With great power comes an easy demise at your own hands. As much as I hate to say it, it’s not out of the realm of possibility that she turned mad,” Thesan said.

“You’re wrong.” Everyone in the room snapped their gaze to Glaslane. “She told me her theory about the creatures at Starfall. It was I that urged her not to share with anyone else, lest she be ridiculed by such a preposterous idea. But I also said to find more proof and it seemed she did. And while she investigated this, so did I.” Glaslane reached down and pulled a stack of notebooks from a satchel, standing and passing them around. “Eleana was scared, but the girl’s smart; she knew exactly what was happening in my court. If you had seen her you would know there’s no way she orchestrated all this. I swear by it.”

The High Lords and Ladies started flipping through the books.

“My research led me to our once-sacred mountain. It was there I discovered where I believe the leader of the creatures first came to Prythian – through a magical portal of sorts. It was a room full of strange artefacts and symbols, ones that would glow at your touch.”

“Can you lead us there?” asked Helion.

“No, I destroyed it upon realising what it was. I couldn’t let anything else come through – though I do believe only this one woman did. But her magic is dark, something I fear we haven’t seen before. Her grasp over life and death is something reminiscent of the Cauldron.”

“This information is… staggering,” Viviane whispered, turning to her mate with fear in her eyes.

“But why Eleana?” Thesan prodded.

“Besides her obvious power, there’s something else.” Glaslane turned to stare at Rhys, his eyes ablaze. “Every track, every trail, every sign, leads back to the Night Court.”

____

Kaden was tempted to murder the thing behind the iron bars. His hands went to the blades at his sides, his feet shifted into a fighting stance, and he bared his teeth and snarled.

“Not the warm welcome I was expecting, but that’s okay; I still love you.”

Kaden launched himself, and Azriel caught him by the back of his shirt and yanked him back. “Calm down, son.”

“What the hell is that.”

“Well, it claims to be Felix. We know better, of course. Whatever magic it has can’t be used in its cell though, so just calm down.”

“Where did you find it?”

“It set off the wards at Cassian and Nesta’s. It was trying to enter the house.”

Kaden’s being buzzed in anger. Visibly shaking, he looked the horrid thing in the cell up and down. “You’ve chosen the wrong form to take.” Kaden spat in its direction, the thing behind the bars wiping the saliva off his crinkled face.

“At any other time that might have turned me on a little, but I hope you know how disgusting that was.”

Hearing words that once might have come out of Felix’s mouth, and in his voice, revolted every cell in Kaden’s body. It was lucky Azriel was here to hold him back, or Kaden would have had a field day ruining this thing. He would replicate everything his brothers did to him as a child, then make it worse.

“I will kill you, and I’ll enjoy every second of it.”

“And you thought I was the dramatic one. You put me to shame!”

It grinned so widely Kaden felt blinded by it. He turned his face away, looking to Azriel. The older male was observing the interactions thoughtfully and didn’t look as though he was going to add anything.

“Now,” the thing said. “Let’s stop dallying and get me out of here. I have little sisters and one very emotional cousin to attend to.”

Kaden and Azriel gave it dirty looks. It rolled its eyes in response and continued on.

“Speaking of my sisters, have you done what I asked Kaden?” For the first time, the thing faltered, his forehead creasing and doubt transforming his eyes. “I’m not sure how long I was gone for… The last thing I remember before awaking was telling you goodbye. How long has it been? Quathryn and Thea are still small, yeah? I hope they are.”

Kaden grabbed on to Azriel’s arm, pawing at him the way a hurt animal seeking comfort might.

“Don’t listen to it,” Azriel whispered. “I believe it has daemati abilities. It knows so much because you do.”

“But its magic isn’t supposed to work.”

“Potentially if it was strong enough, it might be able to read our thoughts from inside. Rhys can; I’m sure Eleana could, too.”

“Not daemati, but as good looking as one. How can I prove to you that it’s really me? I’ll tell you anything you need to hear to know for sure who I am.”

“Not an option,” Kaden snarled. “If you’re daemati you’d know everything we do, which I’m sure you’ve already guessed.”

“Kaden, please. It’s me, I swear on the Cauldron it’s me.”

Kaden turned his back to it, stepping in front of Azriel so their eyes were level and he could pretend that there was nothing behind him. “Why did you bring me here? Let’s just burn it and be done with this.”

Azriel put his hands on Kaden’s shoulders. “I needed you here because this thing set off the wards, but also got into the house. It never should have been able to cross the fences into the yard.”

“What does that mean?”

“That its powerful enough to get around something Rhys, Mor and Feyre all made together or…” Azriel trailed off, not needed to say the words aloud for Kaden to know what they are.

“Or it’s Felix, and we know what the other part of Eleana’s bargain was.”

“Indeed.”

Kaden turned back to the thing, who was leaning on the bars listening in on their conversation.

“Eleana made a deal? Do I even want to know what she’s gotten herself into now?”

The sound of Eleana’s name in his mouth felt like scissors being jammed into Kaden’s ears. It was an excruciating reminder that his best friend was dead, the love of his life may as goddamn well be, and there was shit all he could do about it.

Kaden couldn’t be held back this time as he snapped, pulling the thing to him by its hair and slamming his fist into its face, once, twice, again. He snapped his hand back to do it again but was bested by the thing who used Kaden’s hold of his hair to pull him forward and slam him into the bars.

“Stop,” his voice boomed through the halls. “You are better than this. You don’t needlessly attack people. You don’t fight people when it’s not fair.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know you better than anyone.”

“No, Felix did. Eleana did. And then he left, and she did, and maybe my conscious and morality followed along after them.”

“You are no beast.”

“I wasn’t before, but you dare utter her name again and I’ll happily kill you, fair fight or not.”

_____

“What are you implying?” Feyre was scandalised, Glaslane wouldn’t seriously implicate them in this?

“It’s no secret that the Night Court lives and breeds power. By all accounts, Eleana’s magic shouldn’t even be able to exist at her age, let alone for someone who isn’t even a High Lady yet. And correct me if I’m wrong, but she hasn’t started displaying the signs of inheriting yours, hers just keeps growing and growing.”

“That’s correct.”

“Pair that with the most powerful High Lord to ever exist, the first High Lady to ever exist, as well as an Inner Circle who all in their own right have a peculiar amount of strength, and what do you get? A beacon to anyone who comes here and can sense magic. I’m not implying you had anything to do with this, I know for a fact you don’t, but it also doesn’t surprise me that this creature decided Eleana was the perfect vessel for her.”

“That makes sense,” Kallias affirmed. “Furthermore, it seems to align with what we think this so-called queen’s motivations are. It wants control more than anything else, what did you say it called her creatures? The most vicious yet subservient form of life?”

“Indeed, she did.” Feyre was near positive on it. Of course, it was Kaden that had heard those words, not her, and repeated them.

The fae in the room nodded in agreement, all still skimming through the notebooks Glaslane had given them. The moment of silence that had followed Glaslane’s revelation was a welcome one. It gave them all an opportunity to reflect on the information that had been given to them. What struck Feyre the most, and what often crossed her and her mate’s mind, was how many people Eleana had confided in about the creature attacks before them. It was somewhat comforting to think it was only the High Lord of the Spring Court’s words that led Eleana to her secrecy, but Feyre also knew the truth.

At one point, her daughter had stopped trusting her. And now that Feyre knew the whole truth, she couldn’t delude herself into thinking anything else. The moment that had led to this was another memory that was scarred in her mind. When Eleana had brought the fatal, bloodied Felix home, claiming that he had been attacked by an Impeath, Feyre hadn’t even tried to believe her story.

Next week would have been Felix’s twenty-fifth birthday, and only a few days after would have been Eleana’s eighteenth. When Eleana was born, a bloody affair itself, they joked that the real reason she came early was because her and Felix couldn’t wait to be best friends any longer.

“So, what next?” Kallias broke the silence.

Rhys looked at Kallias, then all others in the room.

“Next, we go to war.”

_____

Azriel used the hilt of his sword to beat the thing’s hands off of Kaden, pulling his son back. He opened his mouth, likely to tell him off, but Kaden had other ideas.

“I know how to prove it’s really you.”

“Do tell; as lovely as this cell is I’d rather my nice room at camp, thank you very much.” His tone was dripping with a sarcasm so familiar it made Kaden’s heart ache.

“Tell us something we don’t know. Something that only Felix knows that we can verify.”

Azriel looked impressed at the suggestion.

The thing claiming to be Felix looked hesitant, and it was just another nail in its coffin.

“See, you can’t!” Kaden drew a blade. “Can I kill it now?”

“Kaden,” it whispered. “If I know something none of you do it’s because it would hurt you, and I don’t want to do that.”

“What an incredibly predictable excuse.”

It sighed. “Your brother Leeam has a bastard child with a fae he assaulted. He doesn’t know about it, but I moved both her and the child to the Spring Court, where she now works as a maid for Glaslane in the mansion.”

Kaden shut his mouth.

There was silence after the statement, the thing looking at the floor regretfully. “I wanted to tell you, truly. But the mother is someone I know, and she swore me to secrecy. She’s happy now, and safe. Glaslane made sure to keep her and the baby well.”

Kaden didn’t respond, not sure what to do with the information. He glanced at Azriel, who’s jaw had set, and eyes had narrowed. “It will take me one, maybe two hours to confirm this. Kaden, you stay here and guard it. I’ll be back soon.”

“I should come with you-”

“Glaslane is currently at the meeting with Feyre and Rhys, and I’m sorry but right now you have no hold over your emotions. We need to be discreet about this. Cassian and Nesta can’t know anything until we’ve confirmed what exactly this is. Stay here, and make sure it doesn’t go anywhere.”

_____

They had to know what they were up against, and that included showing the fae in the room the specimen they had retrieved after the Bloodrite. When they first captured it, it was in the hopes that the other Courts won’t have seen it yet – that this was would an easy introduction into the horrors they were about to delve. They had no idea that by the time the meeting occurred all the other Courts would have had brutal strikes against them. They could still use this creature though, for tests on weaknesses and such.

The soldiers that had captured it were also keeping it, and now that group was standing at the doors to the room, a barred cage between them.

All looked on in a mixture of horror and fascination as the soldiers demonstrated things they had learnt about it. Usually, such an important task would be given to a member of the Inner Circle, but Mother knows none of them were capable of such a task considering the state they were in.

They showed oils that made the creature recoil, discussed how starvation and dehydration had affected it, and most interestingly, showed how opal, a seemingly harmless gem, was toxic to the skin.

The demonstration was met with plenty of questions, Cassian himself even asking a few – not as well informed as he would have hoped. He didn’t blame himself. This was not his job and being with his family was his top priority right now.

Cassian was about to voice another query when he saw familiar shadows slinking around the room unbeknownst to everyone there. He was curious as to what his brother was up to, but he wouldn’t interrupt him. Whatever it was, was so predominant that he didn’t announce himself even though he would be invaluable in this discussion.

He watched as Azriel appeared behind Glaslane, who was standing at the back with his entourage in front of him. Azriel stepped out of the darkness to tap Glaslane on the shoulder, silently gesturing him to follow him outside.

Whatever it was, Cassian was sure he’d found out soon.

Glaslane was gone for over a half-hour, but the creature held everyone’s attention so well that they didn’t notice. Cassian would have to have a word with the young fae about that – he needed a more diligent team with him.

When he did come back, it was not with Azriel at his side. He looked slightly troubled and very confused but didn’t speak to any of the fae he’d brought with him, making Cassian question what the issue between him and Az had been.

How very, very curious.

_____

“For the sake of play pretend let’s say you are Felix – oh, the upper right corner thanks.”

The man drew an X in the spot Kaden indicated. In return, he drew an O under it. “That seems easy enough.”

“X lower right. Anyway, so if you are Felix, then you are my best bet for advice.”

“Ha! I win.” The man looked triumphantly at his line of Os.

“You went first and got the middle spot, of course you were going to win.”

“You’re just a sore loser. Is the advice you want on naughts and crosses strategies?”

“Maybe, this is the first time I’ve played. But I digress. I have an issue with my better half’s aunt.”

The man scoffed. “By her aunt do you mean my mother? My father told me she can be pretty nasty if the circumstances are right, and she’s likely quite emotional over my death. Do you have cards?”

“No to both. Amren returned to Velaris and thinks I’m an impostor of sorts. She even implied I had something to do with Felix’s death. I have string, we could play Cat’s Cradle.”

“Maybe we should hold off on the games for a second and chat about this Amren problem.”

Kaden nodded, bored out of his mind.

At least he wasn’t angry anymore.

Or tired.

He sat against the wall with his legs straight in front of him, the man in the cell mirroring him, scribbles in the dust from the various games they had played to fill the time.

“She’s not wrong. All this trouble with the creatures started happening after Eleana and I met. Apparently, Eleana’s personality has completely changed since meeting me, which is just lovely to hear. It’s almost validating in a way; I always knew I would be her downfall.”

“What Amren is forgetting is that I knew you well before El- sorry, won’t say it, before she did. Not just that, but we found shit from years ago that looked like creature attacks. That was eons before you even thought about leaving your family. As for her personality, she is definitely a lot more on edge, but one would expect that after what she’s been through. Honestly though, I think she would have been a lot worse if not for you. You kept her grounded. You made her feel safe, feel loved. There’s not a single time in our lives that I can remember her being as happy as when she was with you. Don’t take what Amren said to heart – she’s wrong about you.”

“How do I change her mind?”

“Just keep doing you. She’ll see you the way we all do eventually, Amren is just very protective. We were the first children in her life, and it was like we were one of the many treasures she hoards. When we were with anyone else, they were happy to let people come greet us. If we were with Amren? She would literally snap at them – with her teeth.”

“That’s a sweet thought. Little baby Felix and Eleana with their protective aunt.”

“Baby? She did this well into our teens.”

Kaden laughed, a deep happy rumble that hadn’t come from him since the Bloodrite.

“Okay, fake Felix, tell me what Eleana was like as a child then.”

“If you’re wondering if she was always,” he waved his arms around, “so much, then yes. Everything she’s ever done as been over the top and in a manner to get the most attention possible. Like her first big show of magic was when she was one, two? Her and her bloody darkness filled up the whole damn forest. The animals didn’t come back for days! And she just sat there, all cuddled up in Rhys’ arms smiling away. She also loved having her hair done.”

“She still does. I’ve become somewhat of an expert braider because of it.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

“What else.”

“She was a baby born for the skies. There is no Lay- sorry.”

“You can say her name if you want. It’s a beautiful name.”

“It is. Feyre hated it before she was born.”

“How can that be?” Kaden snickered.

“Rhys just started calling the bump that. He was convinced it was a girl and told everyone her name was Eleana. Do you know how confusing that was for six-year-old me? Feyre would always bite his head off about it, but then Laya was born and it was perfect.”

Kaden smiled. “You’re a good liar, fake Felix.”

“Yes, but not right now.” He smiled wistfully, scuffing his foot in the loose stones and dirt. “Since I’ve been so gracious with my knowledge, can you answer a question for me?”

Kaden pursed his lips. “Why not? But I am just as good a liar as you.”

“Before, when you said you’d lost me and Eleana, what did you mean? Where is she?”

Any laughter Kaden had, any semblance of a good mood was gone at the mention of what happened to her.

“You’re a creature of some sort, I’m sure you already know,” Kaden whispered.

“Humour me then.”

“I’m not in a very humorous mood.”

The fake Felix grunted in return.

“I wish you were real,” his voice was scathing, angry at himself for the confession. “I want so badly to see Felix again.”

Fake Felix’s face fell, and he inched towards the bars, sliding his arm through the gap and tapping Kaden on his shoe. “It’ll be okay, buddy.”

“Felix saved me. Eleana healed me, but it was Felix who saved me.”

Fake Felix brought his arm back, wiping it across his face while sniffling. “Stop being so gushy, you’re going to make me cry.”

_____

It was quite the sight to behold – High Lords and Ladies scrambling around a table squabbling about what the best plan of attack was. Every time Cassian thought he might interject he changed his mind. Let the leaders of Prythian wear themselves out first, and then the generals can step in and take the shards of their ideas and turn it into an actual plan. When Cassian heard a suggestion that might be good, like smoking out the mountain, he looked to the other generals to see if they were on the same page. Thesan’s mate often looked to him for confirmation as well, the two clearly thinking the same things. There were also times when the High Leaders, as old and wise as they were, had truly stupid ideas that Cassian had to refrain from laughing at, like sending in specially trained squadrons to try and kill the creatures individually. Was it not clear by now that if they stepped foot in those mountains than they would die?

It was becoming tiresome – they just kept going in circles. No one could agree on what their first step should be, and Cassian found even he didn’t have an answer. They couldn’t find them in the mountains nor anywhere near civilian life – and evacuating everyone to a zone made them no better than sitting ducks. They had nothing that might entice this queen to come to them, and it was still very unclear as to exactly how many creatures she had.

Rhys was growing increasingly weary, and the other High Lords looked no better. Cassian didn’t want to suggest they end for now, but that started to look more and more like a good option.

Thesan noticed as well and asked for everyone in the room to quieten. When they didn’t immediately, he smacked his fist down on the table and growled.

“This is a strange predicament for all of us, but none of you are considering what must be addressed.” He turned to Rhys and Feyre, his expression grim and his voice grave. “The loss of your little girl must cause you immeasurable pain.”

“We’re hopeful she can be saved,” Rhys responded.

“Saved? Rhysand, you can’t be serious.”

All ears were on what Thesan would say next.

“Rhysand, your little girl will be a loss we all feel, but she has to die; you know that.”

“No. I can save her.”

“We have to consider everything here. Don’t speak to me and pretend that there’s someone here who is powerful enough to expel what is inside her. We must continue forward with the assumption that Eleana and this creature are one in the same.”

“Stop saying such things!” Feyre hissed. “Our daughter is seventeen, you can’t consider killing an innocent life-”

“I can if one life spares thousands. This queen has never shown any weaknesses, never lost in battle; she could obliterate us in a heartbeat if she wanted. We have to be tactical here-”

“You’d be killing my child! No, we just need more information. And now that we all know what’s going on we can prepare better. We’ll start mining the opal in the Night Court, manning our soldiers with concoctions made from the oils we now know hurts them. We have time to come up with a solution,” Feyre spat.

“Don’t you see, Feyre? She’s already dead. Her body may live on but there’s nothing left of your daughter inside that thing. If there was, Eleana would have control, she was strong enough to have gotten it back by now. We aren’t killing your child, we’re putting her to peace.”

“No, no, no no no no no no no no.” Feyre pushed away any fae in her way as she stormed to stand in front of Thesan. “You try to touch her and I’ll skin you alive.”

“Losing a child-”

“You know nothing of losing a child,” Cassian stopped him, his voice deep and thick.

“Neither do you,” Thesan scoffed.

“Speaking of children, where is Felix? He’s young but I think his perspective would be quite valuable here,” Helion asked.

Beside Cassian, Nesta stiffened, her hands gripping the back of his shirt at the words. Amren, who was behind him and observing the organised chaos with her seedy gaze, stepped down and in front of the pair of mates.

It was too late. Nesta already had tears welling in her eyes, and Cassian’s breathing had become ragged.

Helion’s eyes widened in shock, and Thesan put a hand over his mouth, realising how untrue his words were.

Before they could be questioned further, Nesta grabbed Cassian’s hand and dragged him away, whispering that they could no longer be there to Rhys. No one tried to stop them, and they had just made it out the door when Nesta stumbled. Cassian caught her, but she was already shaking from her sobs, her cries undoubtedly being heard from the others. Cassian embraced her tightly and she sobbed into his chest. He winnowed them away, just as he heard Rhys say that no one from the Night Court would be discussing that incident.

_____

Kaden hummed under his breath while he watched fake Felix – the male laying on his stomach with his eyes closed. They had stopped speaking at Kaden’s request; he still couldn’t bear to hear his friend’s voice out of a phony’s mouth.

He’d gotten too deep in the illusion for a second there, a mistake that wouldn’t be repeated.

Kaden was roused from his state at the sounds of pounding footsteps coming in his direction. He stood up quickly, knowing that it was likely Azriel coming with a guilty verdict. Kaden got a dagger ready; he would make this man’s death a quick one.

Azriel was frazzled when he appeared and completely ignored Kaden, nearly sliding into the bars in his rush to put the key in the cell’s lock.

Kaden wanted to ask what he was doing, but before he had a chance Azriel had slammed open the door and rushed to the side of the still lying man.

Fake Felix lifted his head, only to have his whole body yanked into a hug.

That’s not what Kaden was expecting.

Fake Felix engulfed Azriel back, both now standing together inside the cell.

“What’s going on?” Kaden asked quietly.

They didn’t answer him – their cries of joy too loud to hear Kaden’s words.

Kaden was confused, unsure of what this meant. Whatever Azriel thought he had confirmed was wrong – there was no way this was his brother. Azriel was just confused, he didn’t see Felix die like Kaden did, didn’t know there was truly no way to come back from that.

Kaden did the unthinkable – he turned and left, leaving Azriel alone with the creature. Wide eyed and stunned, he made his way up the stone stairs. It was only a few minutes before he was feeling the breeze on his body and stepping into the night. He had expected to be blinded by the dwindling son after being in the derelict prison, but he had been down there longer than he’d thought. It was as if he’d expected time to pause for him – to give him a moment of nothingness. But no, he wasn’t that lucky.

He breathed deeply, the smell of salt from the sea refreshing enough to snap him from his daze.

“Kaden.”

He ignored the voice.

“Kaden, stop. It’s me. I swear on the Mother that it’s me.”

He spread his wings, ready to fly away, but screamed when magic snapped them back to his body, chaining him where he was. He thrashed, but no matter what he did, what magic he used to try and counter it, he was still bound – unable to fly.

“Azriel can think what he wants, but I know what you are. Felix would never entrap me.”

“I need you to listen.”

Kaden turned to face him. The man was still in nothing but torn pants. His chest so marred that even Kaden, so accustomed to scars, flinched at the sight.

“I’m sorry I left,” Felix said, wringing his hands in front of him.

“You don’t have to apologize for dying.”

“I’m not sorry I died; dare I say I had no control over that one.” He sighed deeply, looking up to the stars. “I said I’m sorry I left. Everything just turned to shit, didn’t it? But I’m back now, and we can get this mess sorted the fuck out. Whatever’s happening to Laya, we’ll fix it; we always do.”

Kaden gave him the side-eye. He took one step toward the man, then stopped. He couldn’t let himself hope – not if it meant he would lose Felix again if this was a hoax.

But he wished, Cauldron be damned he wanted it to be Felix, but he just wasn’t sure.

“How about we go to the house and talk some more? Eleana fixed your room up nice and pretty while you were at the Bloodrite. And then maybe we can go say hello to my sisters, I’m sure Quathryn will be thrilled to see you.”

“My room?”

“At our house? How is it that I’m the one who died and yet my memory serves me better. You said you were moving in and I’m holding you to that.”

“We c-can’t.”

“Let me prove to you who I am. I’ll cook for you; I’ll make your favourite, better than anyone can.”

“No. The house is warded, only Felix and his family can enter.”

“Please,” the man begged, his eyes shining. “I’ll do anything you want. You can keep me chained in adamant, locked away, but it’s me. I promise on the lives of Quathryn and Thea that I am wholly Felix.”

The man swallowed, looking down.

“I remember every second after I died. I wanted to stay with you; I was so scared of the dark. I think I might always be scared of it now.” His breathing was shaky, so much so that his words were a weak vibrato. “It’s nightfall, and as the world succumbs to the night I fear that I’ll never leave it. You may be Eleana’s light, but you are also mine. Please, don’t leave me in the dark. Don’t leave me. Don’t – don’t leave me.”

Kaden looked at him, what was left of his heart breaking all over again.

“Felix? Is that truly you?”

He nodded his head.

Kaden rushed to him, engulfing him in a hug so tight Felix was lifted off the ground. He pounded his hand on his back, needing to reassure himself that it was actually Felix who was there. Felix held him back just as tightly, laughing in relief.

“You had me worried; I didn’t think you’d ever believe me.”

“Be quiet, you’re ruining the moment.”

_____

Kaden, Azriel and Felix winnowed to the meeting. They ran through the halls, coming to a skidding halt outside the doors. Azriel, ever the actual-adult, walked patiently behind them, secure in the knowledge they wouldn’t enter without him.

They expected there to be more noise from inside – maybe yelling, maybe smashing – but it was rather quiet.

“I don’t like the vibe I’m getting from that room,” Azriel said slowly. “Something has happened, but I don’t know what. You two go back to the House of Wind, take the children from Mor and ask her to come here.”

“I have to see my mother and father, they have to know I’m here,” Felix argued. “And I am as blind as to what happened recently as the High Lords are – I need to be in there doing my job.”

“No. Go home.”

“No. I’m staying.”

“That was an order, not a suggestion.”

“Well if we want to get technical theoretically we have the same rank, so you can’t order me around.”

“Rank is regardless because you are a child under my care, therefore I can order you to do what’s best.”

Felix raised his eyebrows. “I certainly hope children don’t behave the way I do.”

Azriel opened his mouth, then shut it. His frown was replaced with a small smile, his whole face brighter than it had been in days. “I’m so, so happy you’re home.”

“Me too, Az.” Felix hugged their uncle.

“If you insist on staying, please go wait in one of the rooms. I’ll send Nesta and Cassian to you.”

“Wait, no, I need you with me in case they think I’m some imposter. Send Kaden in, and then he can debrief us later.”

Azriel nodded. “Good idea. Kaden, get Cassian and Nesta will you? Tell them it’s urgent.”

“Of course.”

Felix and Azriel walked away briskly, Kaden hearing Felix asking if he had told Azriel was Felix said.

“Yes, but let’s not discuss such things now,” his fading voice replied.

Kaden looked after them longingly. His family was slowly coming back together again, and it ignited a hope in him that maybe everything truly would be okay. Felix being back was a gift from the Cauldron that Kaden would forever be indebted for, and now that his brother was here it also felt like the first step in the direction of saving Eleana.

He opened the door, not at all meaning to make it a dramatic entrance, but that didn’t stop every head in the room from turning to look at him.

Some of the faces were familiar, like Glaslane, but Kaden was acutely aware that he knew basically no one in this room full of very formidable fae.

“Who is he?” A voice broke the silence.

Kaden looked at the person who had spoken and raised an eyebrow at him. It was a dark-skinned fae with even darker hair. His arm was in a sling, and he was at the centre of a group, clearly a High Lord – which one, he didn’t know. But just looking at him made Kaden want to avert his gaze; it was like he was looking directly at the sun-personified.

“This is Kaden,” High Lord Rhysand answered.

“Where is he from?”

“He’s part of Felix’s Elite.”

“He’s no Illyrian.”

“He is standing right here and can answer for himself.” Kaden stared at the male. Usually he was cowed by such important figures, but right now he just didn’t give a fuck. He would deal with the repercussions of his rudeness later.

“Then who are you, Kaden?”

“It’s not of importance.”

Kaden turned his back on the High Lord, knowing before he did he elicited a smirk from the male.

He walked over to High Lord Rhysand and High Lady Feyre, leaning in so only they could hear his words. “Azriel needs Cassian and Nesta and time is of the essence. Where are they?”

“With Morrigan, I assume. What is the matter?” Feyre questioned.

Kaden hesitated. “This isn’t something you want to hear in a room full of others.”

The two mates shared a look, clearly having a silent conversation between them. Feyre leant forward and pressed a quick kiss to Rhysand’s mouth before standing and addressing the room. “Something needs my attention. I’ll return shortly.”

“He’s in the west wing.”

Feyre left the room, an awkward silence in her wake. Rhysand patted the seat beside him, an invitation for Kaden to sit. He did, wanting to give Felix his privacy when reuniting with his family.

The High Lord who’d spoken to him was still staring at him, his mouth a thin line. He turned to speak to one of his associates, his words too quiet to hear and his gaze never leaving Kaden’s face.

Kaden wondered what it meant but didn’t give it any real thought. He has known his whole life he was an unusual Illyrian, and it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d gotten bizarre looks from strangers.

“As we were discussing before we were interrupted,” Lucien said, “We can’t assume that the death of this queen will mean the end to the creatures. If we first discover how she is making them and halt her that way, we’d have a better chance of saving lives in the long run.”

“You aren’t wrong,” a white haired High Lord agreed. “But her death would also stop their creation and mean there is no one to lead the creatures into war.”

“But what is better?” another dark-skinned fae, this one without a sling, asked. “Creatures systematically attacking us at the command of their leader without being able to be reborn, or, these creatures spreading and unpredictably running amok through Prythian.”

“The end result isn’t what matters the most. The most imperative thing is to stop this queen from creating more creatures,” the one who had been intrigued with Kaden said. “And as much as it pains me to say it, we have to revisit what Thesan said earlier.”

Rhysand shook his head. “I already told you that’s not an option.”

Kaden was confused. It was unlike High Lord Rhysand to be so opposed to an idea if it was viable, and from the looks of the other High Lords, it seemed like earlier this male, Thesan, had suggested something valuable.

“Rhys, can you not see that we have no choice?” Thesan demanded.

“We do have a choice. Let us destroy the way the queen is making them-”

“We have no idea how she is creating them! She could kill thousands more before we even come close to discovering how to stop her process, and that’s even if we can. To me it seems like it comes from her own magic, not some spell or ritual. Rhysand, I’m sorry, but your daughter is already gone. We cannot save her, but we can save our people.”

A terrible feeling made its way into Kaden’s stomach, climbing up his spine and settling in his throat. He didn’t like the tone High Lord Thesan was using, nor what he was suggesting.

“Forgive me, High Lord Thesan, but am I correct in thinking you’re implying we kill Eleana?” Kaden asked.

“Yes.”

Rhysand was stone beside Kaden, not breathing, not blinking.

“You don’t have to be there,” Thesan said gently. “We would never make you witness the death of your daughter-”

“Shut up-”

“and we will make it as quick and painless and we can.”

“Shut your damn mouth, Thesan.” High Lord Rhysand stood, the usual glamour on his powers stripped. His magic flooded the room and the candles lighting the room flickered as Rhysand stormed over to Thesan, usually his magic to easily clear a path to him. All the soldiers in the room, no matter their allegiance, stood to guard, drawing swords in preparation for things to get violent.

“Calm down, Rhysand. You know what must be done,” Thesan growled.

Rhys grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him until he was being slammed into the wall. Thesan didn’t fight back, and Rhysand’s magic meant that no one could approach the two feuding High Lords.

“You will not touch my daughter,” he snarled.

“It has to be done,” Thesan spat back.

“I know!” Rhysand roared, the candles in the room extinguishing. The room was enveloped by darkness, and Kaden started to feel nervous sweat coating his back. The only sound was High Lord Rhysand’s heavy breathing and the shuffling of feet getting ready to attack and defend.

Thesan stayed silent, his arms up in surrender.

“When my daughter dies it will be at my hands, and my hands only.”

#acohad #a court of hearts and darkness #acomaf #acotar #acowar #fanfic #feysand #nessian #elucien #acofas

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