#feysand daughter

[shallyne]

Feyre and her future daughter

Art by rosebuds.art commissioned by me

Feyre fixing her daughter's hair after Nyx ruined it while playing

#Feysand daughter #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanart #feyre fanart #feyre archeron #feyre #feyre cursebreaker #high lady of the night court #high lady feyre #feyre darling #feysand #rhysand #rhys #acotar art #Nemesis Archeron

[katie-the-author]

Who I shift for

PJO- Clarisse La Rue

TVD- tbd

Fame X S2j X DPS- CR gf

Supernatural- Claire Novak

Narnia- Susan Pevensie

Marauders- Lily evans

Stranger things- Nancy wheeler

Twilight- Leah Clearwater

Mighty ducks X Briar Uni- Julie

Bridgerton- Edwina sharma

ACOTAR- Valerie (feysand daughter)

B99- Rosa Diaz

TOG-Manon Blackbeak

Twisted next gen- Sophia Volkov

Teen wolf- Cora Hale

#shifting realities #shifting antis dni #clarrise la rue #Claire Novak #susan pevensie #lily evans #nancy wheeler #leah Clearwater #julie gaffney #edwina sharma #feysand daughter #Rosa Díaz #Manon blackbeak #Sophia volkov #cora hale

[readychilledwine]

Small World Pt 2

Summary - After discovering you and Azriel share much more than a mating bond, your relationship grows stronger as tensions between you and your aunt seem to grow higher.

Warnings - implied emotional and mental abuse, second child syndrome in a not good way, we find out Nyx is an asshole, unrequited love, slight smut, use of daddy

A/n - a potentially cliff hanger ending because I haven't decided 100% how this ends

Peep Part 1 Here 💙

Azriel stared at the dress box sitting on Rhysand's desk and nicely folded Illyrian leathers. He couldn't remember the last time he had worn them. The last time he had used a siphon. The leathers were fitted for 7, something Azriel immediately knew would no longer work.

His powers after removing the precious stones had gone wild. His shadows were different now. They were more aware, able to span wider distances, and able to recruit more shadows into his network to join them.

He had spent 5 years alone meditating and learning even more control over them, over what they could do, over how deadly they actually could be.

7 siphons would not be enough.

And he didn't understand how Rhysand did not see that.

He finally spoke, gesturing to the box. "What is this?"

Rhys was settled in his chair, trying to maintain his composure as Cassian stood near the bookshelf to mediate if needed. "We're going to the Court of Nightmares. My daughter's engagement has spread like wildfire, and dear Keir wants to host a party in her honor."

A breathy chuckle left Azriel's lips before he could stop it. "So my fiancée will be dressed like a goddess while I am in leathers at a party to mock us?"

Cassian shifted slightly. "We've always worn leathers to Hewn City, Az. It's to honor our heritage." Rhys just inclined his head to Cassian and nodded. "Y/n wears leathers."

"She has never worn a single set in the 2 years we've been together. There isn't even a set in her closet."

"There's several sets in her closet here," Rhys said quietly. "All set up for pink siphons. 14 of them." Cassian and Azriel couldn't help their chuckles. "Imagine a blonde Illyrian with pink siphons, Azriel, its quite the sight." Rhys smiled fondly, eyes glimmering with pride despite everything. "She's-" he looked up, searching for the perfect word for his daughter. "She's my everything. And I've done a horrible job showing her that."

Azriel sucked in a deep breath. "I won't mediate this, Rhys. This is a you two thing. Not an us three thing."

Azriel knew now why you were estranged from your family. Nyx was their golden child. Constantly praised, admired, in the spotlight. He was, and still is, their reminder of how they had almost died to pass along their love. He could do no wrong, never be wrong, and was treated as such.

You, on the other hand, were the second child. The significantly younger one Nyx learned to plant blame on and watch as you were scolded and seen as "the problem" as you had told him you were now addressed as in Hewn City and Illyria. You had been raised by Ness more than Feyre and Rhys, passed off to them until your powers bloomed at 16, and suddenly your father found you interesting again. With a lack of a spymaster, he exploited you, forcing you to touch people and feel their emotions, when they lied, their stories. Forcing you to live trauma over and over of females clipped in the mountains, of tortured traitors in dungeons, of Nesta's dark phase.

You locked your powers so far away one day, so deep inside you that even you hardly could access them unless you actually wanted to. It had been just before your 18th birthday that happened. And then the fight that sealed the casket happened. Rhys had verbally lashed you. Attacked you for refusing to let him use your "one worth" to keeping his family and court safe.

Your father had said he saw you as useless, and everyone else just stood by watching.

Like they had with Nesta.

Only you were just a child. Not a head strong warrior, a goddess in fae form.

You packed the basics and spent the night on the streets in a dark alley.

Even if you and Rhys magically fixed things, even if you forgave but not forgot, Azriel would never. How you were raised, how you've been treated, it forever will taint his vision of Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx. The abuse they unleashed on you, they'd never make up for.

Rhys nodded, eyes glancing to the doorway as footsteps approached. "I would never ask you to fix my relationship with her when I need to fix my relationship with you as well. I just need you to know I love her. That she will always be my girl."

"You have an odd way of showing her your lo-"

The door opened, and you stepped in, immediately going to Azriel's side and eyeing the box. "Dad. Cassian." You opened the lid and nodded. "Well. At least it's sparkly."

Rhys cocked his head. "You don't like it?"

Azriel watched as you paused. The bond flared with conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, longing. How long had it been since Rhys held you? Since he told you he loved you without you having to earn it. "No, I like it. I just know what this means. You never give me nice things unless Hewn City is involved." The last sentence trailed off quietly, and pain flooded the bond.

Rhys looked down, nodding as he scratched the stubble growing on his face. "I am sorry. I just-"

"Please don't. You never mean it." You grabbed the box. "I will wear it and find jewelry." You turned to Azriel. "Elain would like to speak with you. She said something about a garden you two planned together and how I'll never understand the love you two share. How it breaks bonds and shakes worlds."

The relationship between you and Azriel had been messy since dinner two weeks ago. You two had your first fight over, of course, Elain and her rekindled love, lust, whichever felt appropriate at the moment for Azriel. He ignored the constant letters, the random headache powders, the message coded flowers.

He had reached out to Lucien, asking the male what had happened. According to the new Lord of Day, Elain and he had tried for 5 years, but the damage had been done. Lucien didn't trust Elain, Elain spent most of their time comparing the two of them, and nothing Lucien gave her was enough. He had been the one to reject the bond, and after 7 years, he had found himself heavily involved in a relationship with a now fully fae Vassa and Jurian.

Rhys and Cassian both gave him gentle looks of concern as he held your hand, preventing you from walking away. He stared Rhys in the eyes, doing something he felt Rhysand had never done to prove a point. "I'd rather go home with you, so if you were planning on winnowing, we might as well go together." He picked you.

They watched as all tension left your body, as security eased into your face. "Then let's go home." Azriel grabbed the leathers, nodding to Rhys and Cassian before following you.

Azriel's elbow locked around your neck, hand squeezing your hip as he pinned you below him and continued taking you from behind. You both had no interest in heading to Hewn City, so you had distracted him, walking into your shared bedroom in just a pretty blue silk night gown offering to give your body to him for what he had done, the message he had sent.

You were supposed to be getting ready, but instead, Azriel was growling above you, pumping into you carelessly. Your toes curled at how deep he was hitting, at how good he felt, how good he felt every time. "So close," you whispered. "So fucking close-" You were moaning his name when the knock on the door came.

A shadow rushed to him, curling his ear as he paused. "It's Elain," he muttered. "She's relentless." You whined below him, hips wiggling to get friction back. "Baby,"

"Please," you begged. "It's been weeks, I've been so good, please, daddy."

Azriel felt his cock twitch at the use of the name. He'd longed for a moment to erase the memory of what happened, and you had just given it to him. He felt you moving your hips, doing the best you could while pinned to the mattress to fuck yourself on his cock.

You were his focus, the rest of the world melting away as he heard your moans turning into screams of his name. You sounded so pretty coming for him, crying for him, begging for more for less for everything as oversensitivity took over. You especially looked pretty dripping his seed when he pulled out of you. Once again, he had chosen you.

You two laid there, holding each other until claws came for both of you. Scratching angerly as your mental shields and causing you to bury your head into Azriel's chest. "We need to get ready unless you want him showing up here next," Azriel played with your hair, scratching your scalp lightly. "Let's see how many siphons I blow through."

After 2 sets of siphons being destroyed, you were currently dragging Azriel down the streets of Velaris and to your brother and father's tailor. You knew she'd be able to fit and dress him in seconds and that he'd look every bit handsome as he deserved. You were pissed when you saw he had been gifted Illyrian leathers and not a suit. Your father was out of touch with Azriel. With you.

"Helena," you smiled at the older female. "We need help."

Azriel felt stiff. Staring at the doors of Heen City as a shocked page boy ran to inform Rhys and Feyre of the late arrival. You two were about to upstage them in their own court. The guests of honor arriving late and being introduced after the Lord and his Lady.

You would have upstaged them by yourself anyway, though. Azriel admired you one more time. Rhys had picked well, though you both would never admit it. The dress had a see-through bodice of black lace and floral applicates with thin straps. It led to a satin skirt that was tight and then flared out to your hips. The left leg had a high slit, showing the toned beautiful skin Azriel was begging to cover in his kisses. You had picked a simple necklace, a single tear drop shaped sapphire with matching earring and a matching bracelet. Your ring sat on manicured nails painted a soft shade of pink to white coffin head tips. Heels graced your feet, the red underside flashing when you walked. "Gods, you are stunning," he finally whispered out in a hoarse voice.

"And all yours," you looked at him, adjusting the lapel of his jacket. "Forever." Your mask slipped on as the doors opened, a collective gasp ringing through the room over who was on your arm followed by whispers.

Azriel knew this song and dance, walking you into one thousand eyes staring and gawking. He hated seeing you like this as you were ushered to the dance floor. The first dance of the night had been delayed, and the fae were restless.

Once you were centered on the floor, you turned facing him, eyes cold and distant as you disassociated from this place. He placed a hand on your hip, leaving his other to his side where both of your sat.

It was unfair of Feyre and Rhysand to expect you to do this traditional waltz, but you followed Azriel's steps as the music began, that first note echoing in your bones and soul. Your parents had claimed your first dance with your mate. The first true dance you two would ever share, and it had to be done in front of hundreds of fae who spat your direction when the Lord and Lady were busy.

Azriel had decided he hated this side of you. He was studying you like a project. You were a different female down here. Cold, uncaring, forced into this role of the High Lord's daughter.

Did these fae know you took far too much creamer in your coffee?

That you were afraid of storms?

That you only ate fruit pastries because you found chocolate too bitter?

You were Rhysand through and through with that mask on. But inside, inside Azriel knew you carried the very light of what your grandfather built. You were a true dreamer, and you could rattle the very stars themselves if your father would just give you the chance.

If Rhysand would just believe in you.

Azriel decided in that moment what the answer to your happiness was. He'd take you tonight and you two would leave.

Fuck expectations.

Fuck the rules.

Fuck your family.

Azriel would pick you for the third time today, and you two would leave.

He just had to get you through this visit at Hewn City first, and as he watched Elain shatter a champagne flute in her hands, he knew that was going to be a mission all on its own.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish

Azriel-

@elle4404

Small World Taglist-

@amara-moonlight @iimichie @acourtofbatboydreams @justasillylittlegoofyguy @janesalvarerelochanarcheron @hungryforbatboys @sidthedollface2 @hunt1bryce

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x feysands daughter!reader #az x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bad Idea, Right? - Part 8

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

If things go according to plan, Eris and Y/N’s first official date could end in hot, steamy sex. Or, it could end in complete and utter chaos - because when do things ever go according to plan? Azriel almost has a good time, until he doesn’t. We also FINALLY meet Tamlin’s daughter.

Part 7 Part 7.5 Headcanon

Warnings: Alcohol, language, smutty content, assault with non-consensual kissing, breeding kink (kind of)

An evening breeze blew through Velaris sending a slight chill through the champagne golden silk dress I’d chosen for the evening. A caress of warmth rose up from the fingers I’d threaded through Eris’, heat continuing up my arm and throughout my body, counteracting the mild chill.

When he’d shown up to my door right on time, dressed in a deep forest green tailored suit with the top unbuttoned and a turtleneck that was - For one, so perfectly molded to his torso that I practically salivated as fantasies of licking his abs flashed through my mind. And two, conveniently matched my dress perfectly - I almost said “Fuck the date.” and jumped on him then and there.

He’d arrived carrying three things. A bouquet of hydrangeas for my mother, symbolizing gratitude for her grace with the current situation. Freesia bulbs for my little sister to add to her Sprite garden if she wished, a symbol of friendship. I realized the double meaning of it, to draw in sprites with wishes for friendship but also to symbolize their new budding friendship. My mother smiled softly as she realized it too.

For me, he’d brought a “Fire Poppy”, apparently native to his court. His hesitance to express the meaning of the flowers, told me enough. Fire. Passion. But the incredibly faint dust of pink on his freckled cheeks left me wondering if perhaps there was something more.

Father only appeared at the last moment to kiss my forehead and likely give a seething look toward Eris while doing so that warned, Just because I haven’t killed you yet doesn’t mean I won’t. Eris paid no mind.

And now here we were, walking through the streets of Velaris hand in hand. Eris’ focus remained intently upon me as I pointed out various shops that I would frequent. I pointed out one that I loved as a child and Azalea still adored. The window was decorated with paint splatters of primary colors that blended together into a rainbow mirroring the Sidra and inside floated hundreds of miniature fae lights imitating the skies of Night Court.

Eris paused as we stood before the shop. “Can we take a look inside?”

“Why?” I asked, genuinely perplexed by his interest in this shop of all the ones we’d wandered past.

“It’s a surprise.” He stated.

Because why would anything with Eris be anything but secretive?

Eris read my responding roll of the eyes for exactly what it was. “Surely you realize there is a difference between a surprise and a secret?”

I couldn’t help myself. “Many of your secrets have left me feeling quite surprised, Eris. Certainly you would realize that?”

He huffed a silent laugh leaving me on the street to go into the store. Set in my stubborn ways, I refused to let him win and stood outside waiting.

Eris was back by my side eight minutes later with a small canvas bag. I raised an eyebrow. “What’d you get?”

“Ah, if you wanted to know, you could have come in with me. Guess it’s my secret to keep.”

“Mother spare me. You are insufferable.” I muttered stepping ahead of him down the street. His long strides caught up with mine within a few steps.

He once again wound his fingers through mine. “You love it.”

And I hated that it was true.

“You’re not going to tell me what you got?”

“Just a gift for a friend.”

———————-

Eris had reserved a table at Sevenda’s where Sevenda herself eagerly greeted us. She ushered us to a private section of the restaurant, lit with candles and within earshot of a performing pianist. She’d kissed me on the cheek and given Eris a respectful bow of the head before bringing out a mouthwatering appetizer of some delectable cheese sauce she’d recently added to her menu.

The secluded setting of our table, incandescent glow flickering off the candles, and soft melody floating in from the piano, all flowed together into a very intimate setting. Strange that I had bared myself to this male so many times, and performed every sexual act imaginable with him, yet I’d never felt so exposed to him as I did in this very moment.

Eris checked his blazer, and gods… I only ever wanted to see him in fitted turtle necks or absolutely fucking nothing again. The male was delicious and his gaze…. He was greedily drinking me in as if he’d splay me out on the table itself and feast. There was no way he couldn’t smell the arousal pouring off of me. I sure as hell could smell his, and it was far more mouthwatering than any of the glorious spices wafting through the restaurant.

Before I could give in to my instincts, Eris’ low tone interrupted. “If you keep looking at me like that, Y/N, I’m not going to make it through this dinner.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to.”

He audibly groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Just as our mutual eye fucking grew so intense that I genuinely wondered if Eris really was about take me then and there, our waiter approached with a bottle of the Inner Circle’s favorite wine. “Compliments of the High Lord.” Making eye contact with Eris, the male suddenly seemed to remember who he was in the presence of as he uncomfortably cleared his throat, “of the Night Court.”

Eris paid no mind and thanked the waiter. Surprise crossed the males face as Eris took the bottle from him and poured our glasses himself.

When the waiter took our orders and returned to the kitchen, Eris’ gaze returned to me. His eyes again roving over my body but lingering on my face. He smirked when he realized I was flushing under his intense eyes. “Are you nervous, little Shadowsinger?” He asked. His tone predatory.

I took the opportunity to send a shadow to caress the shell of his ear, effectively shutting him up.

“Now that we’re alone,” I ran my foot up the length of his leg, stopping the journey just short of where I so desperately wanted to feel him. “How long have you had an an apartment here and why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Ahh yes, excellent talk for a first date.” Eris mused, raising the wine glass to his plush lips and taking a long, slow sip before continuing. “Perhaps, I wanted a place to see you without you having to travel through multiple courts to find me.”

“Do you not wish for me to come to the Autumn Keep any longer?”

Eris’ change in tone took me by surprise as it became stern, the voice of a High Lord and not the bedroom voice of my lover. “Don’t you dare think that for a second. There’s nothing mo-“

He stopped himself mid-sentence shifting uncomfortably. “I enjoy your presence in my keep, in my bed, Y/N. But I also like to have the opportunity to visit you in your home court.”

My heartbeat quickened at the power flowing off of him, the desire in his amber eyes.

“So, Rhys was totally fine with you having a place here, just to hook up with his niece?”

“Diplomacy, darling. It is far easier to have a place here for times that negotiations and other meetings run over. It also benefits him to be able to have eyes on a fellow High Lord, no? It was not a difficult matter to convince him.

And I was going to tell you, you just happened to pick up the hobby of drunkenly wandering the streets before I had the opportunity.”

“I was fine.”

I was not fine. He knew it. I knew it. I was borderline feral that night.

“It wasn’t you I was concerned about. It was the poor citizens running the other way, screaming of a rabid, shadow-creature roaming Velaris in search of its next meal.”

I smiled. “For the second time this evening, Eris Vanserra, you are insufferable.”

“And again, little one, you love it.”

I rolled my eyes and took a swig of wine.

————————

Eris

She was fucking captivating. Eris drunk in every detail of Y/N like she was the wine flowing from her glass.

She had to know she looked like a goddess. Had he told her? She could read him like a well-adored book at this point. She read every look he gave her without him needing to speak a word. I want you. You’re perfect. I need you. You’re more perfect than I ever dared dream. I would kiss the earth you walked on if you only asked.

Shit, could she read that all on his face? Should he tell her how damned gorgeous she was or would she give him that all-too-enticing look of “Spare me the compliments, High Lord, you can strip and ravish me once we’re alone.”

And gods, he was going to. He had plans for his little Shadowsinger tonight, plans involving carefully undressing her and pressing kisses to her silken skin, replacing each bit of fabric slipping off of her body with a press of his lips. Instead of burning that lovely little number that was hugging her mouth-watering curves, he would proudly display it in the Autumn Court’s archives. He was a romantic, after all.

Of course, before putting it behind glass for safe keeping, he’d be binding those pretty little wrists behind her back with said dress. He was also a deviant.

As for his plans after that? They were far too filthy to fantasize about at the table.

“Your aroma is rather fragrant.” Her teasing voice broke him from his thoughts.

“And you’re rather intoxicating. We make quite the pair, love.”

And there it was - the little blush she always tried so hard to hide from him.

If just the term “love” brought that to her face, what lovely shades of pink would her cheeks light up with if he laid it all out right now? If he told her how she’d fucking ruined him for anyone else? That to taste her was to taste the nectar of the gods? That he was so hopelessly in love with her that there was no crawling out of this pit of desire, and he’d sooner drown in his need for her than ever swim up for air.

The urge to do just that frightened him. Why did he think this date was a good idea? As far as his self control went, it was a terrible idea. And as far as he cared at this point, it was the best idea. He was here, in front of her, and nothing else mattered.

————————————

Eris had always thought himself better than the primitive beasts fae turned into when it came to their mates. But he truly realized how wrong he was when after dinner, Y/N had requested to walk very slowly along the river until her stomach wasn’t, as she so elegantly stated it, “bursting at the seams.”

Given that after the wonderful meal they’d devoured, he too was struggling, he obliged her, draping his suit’s jacket as well as his arm over her shoulders. She pressed a hand to her very, very, slightly bloated abdomen, in an effort of easing the discomfort. Such a simple gesture that should have meant absolutely nothing but….

An inferno blazed within him at the thought of her glowing with a round belly, the mating bond’s most primal instinct roaring at him to winnow her away immediately and fill her so utterly full of him that there would be no questioning of whose she was. His.

He prayed to the mother or whomever would listen that the breeze would blow the sickeningly strong scent of his arousal far away.

————————

Y/N

The gallery was packed. Unsurprisingly, anyone and everyone wanted to come out to brush elbows with the Inner Circle and who could blame them? Unlike the other courts of Prythian, Uncle Rhys and Aunt Feyre actually interacted with their people. Well, the people of Velaris at least. Feyre was respected as High Lady but she was revered as an artist. Proceeds from her own work went directly back into the arts district.

“Beautiful.” Eris mused approaching a work of art toward the back wall but keeping his eyes on me. I sipped the champagne an attendant handed me upon arrival, needing it to get through the rest of this evening.

Especially needing it to get through the work of art he was approaching.

“This.” Eris motioned toward the piece, “is stunning.”

“It’s not for sale. Just a work from one of Feyre’s students.”

The art, featuring darkness floating upward from the bottom and a blaze falling from the top, intertwining with licks and whirls of flame and shadow in the middle.

“Cost is of no concern to me, little one. I need it.”

A sing-song voice came from behind us. “It’s magnificent isn’t it?” Feyre asked.

“What can I do to acquire such a fine piece of art?”

“You’ll have to ask the artist.” She nodded toward me.

“Aww, come on my lovely niece. Think of all the supplies it could fund.”

“You’re a busybody.”

She only gave an airy laugh before disconnecting the mental bond and returning to the attendees.

“Wouldn’t it look lovely displayed for all of my court to see?”

My gut lurched and I wasn’t sure if it was from imposter syndrome or excitement.

“Fine.” I’ll make a deal with you, Eris Vanserra. He raised an eyebrow. “This art is very personal to me. And despite the fact that it is hanging in the gallery, I want it to be for your eyes only. Do you agree to hang it in your chambers?”

Eris gave a faux pout. “And not show my lovely lady’s art for all the world to admire?”

My heart raced as I quipped too quickly, not allowing the time to change my mind. “Perhaps I only want to be yours to admire.”

Eris visibly gaped at the statement and my heart sank. Had I read all of his adoration wrong? Was I going to humiliate myself just as I had two years ago when he’d left me on the dance floor and I swore I’d never let him have that power over me again?

He swallowed a lump in his throat. His voice breaking slightly. “And your payment terms?”

“Oh you’ll be paying out the ass for it.”

He grinned. “As one does for the finest things in life. I’ll take it.”

A beat of silence.

“And I’ll take you too, if you’ll have me.”

And with that he leaned in to kiss me, soft and hard, fervently and slowly, wanting more yet only needing this.

A throat cleared behind us as father interrupted. He looked to me and to the art behind me.

“I never realized….” He spoke softly as he took in the work.

I flushed, the work now feeling far too intimate under his gaze.

My father turned to Eris. “You’re purchasing this?”

Eris nodded. “A worthy investment, yes?”

My father remained tense but something in his eyes softened. “A very worthy investment.”

Father leaned in to kiss my forehead. “Enjoy your night sweetheart.”

It was at that moment Adish appeared, his Day Court friends Hem and Apollo in tow along with Nyx and a female I’d never seen before. Nyx looked in my direction with a wink as he saw the piece Eris and I stood before, before heading with the group for glasses of champagne.

Eris spoke, “I’m going to speak with Feyre regarding reservation of the piece before anyone else tries to snag it out from under me.”

“It’s not for sale, Eris. Nobody else would be able to purchase it.”

He pressed his warm lips into mine. “I won’t risk a good thing.”

I blushed, dismissing him.

Nursing my champagne, I perused the various pieces decorating the gallery walls when a female voice came from behind me. “If you wanted your father’s attention, there are better ways than whoring yourself to Autumn Court trash.”

I turned around to see the female Nyx had entered with. Her dark hair and blue eyes fooling nobody. Clever little shapeshifter.

“And I didn’t realize your father was in the habit of allowing females to leave his manor.”

She grinned. “Oh come on, he locked her in ONE time...or at least that’s what he tells me. He really can be an overbearing asshole sometimes.”

I laughed. “I missed you so much, you bitch. Nyx needs to stop hoarding you.”

“Please” she scoffed. “I don’t need Tamlin and Rhys’ melodrama to complicate things.”

“Ha, I’m sure Nyx filled you in on all of the drama in my world recently.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Oh yes, I’ve been living vicariously through your escapades.”

She leaned in to hug me. “So” I took in the brown hair she’d chosen for the evening. “Does the carpet match the drapes?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

“Mmm, as enticing as that would be. I prefer your blonde hair and green eyes. It does something for me.”

“It does something for Nyx too.”

I pretended to vomit before Nyx stepped in. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to spend time with my lady before she decides to leave with you instead and I get stuck with the fireling.”

“He’s quite fun, Nyx. I’m sure you’d enjoy the ride.”

Nyx choked on his drink and whisked Layla away with him, leaving me to take in the art in peace.

A few more minutes passed and my shadows grew restless as if contemplating the same thing as me: Eris should be back by now.

Feyre had returned to the gallery with no Eris in sight. I searched, passing Adish and Apollo, my parents and Azalea, Rhys and Feyre, Cassian and Nesta, even Amren, but no Eris.

Had he left? Did I scare him away?

No, his response was sincere. He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t, right?

I walked down a quiet hallway, stepping away from the crowd. “Eris?” I whispered into the quiet of the hall.

Two shadows returned with no information but another returned frantic. “Bad.” “Go.”

I hurried in the direction my shadows shot out, winding further and further down the hall.

My heart stopped. In front of me was the radiant, gorgeous Hemera, pressed up against my man. Lips crashing into his.

“Bad.” My shadow repeated. Whirling to show me something.

Eris saw me and his eyes blew wide, shaking his head.

Hemera turned, wicked grin contorting her gorgeous features into something cruel.

“Sorry, hon. He’s just so needy and so pretty. Can you blame me?”

Did this bitch really think I’d simper and turn away? Oh no. My shadows continued their whispers.

“Blade.”

“Bad.”

“Blade.”

“Bad.”

A sliver of silver caught the dim lights shining down upon them, a blade held to Eris’ neck.

Eris stared at me wide eyed as my shadows erupted into a frenzy around me in effort to distract the Day Court female.

She jolted and her blade knicked his neck and I felt a sudden spike of fear in my gut but the fear, it didn’t come from me. It was coming from…. Eris.

Holy shit.

Willing all of my power to the surface, my tone turned cold, dangerous. “I suggest you step away from my mate.”

The High Lord of the Autumn Court. Eris fucking Vanserra. My mate.

I gave a tug in return to his emotions. A gentle reminder that I had this under control and he instantly tugged back.

He knew. Holy shit, he had known.

I could be angry later, now I needed to save his ass.

A commotion came from behind me. Adish and Apollo rushing in. “What the-“ Adish started. “Sorry, friend.” Apollo spoke before the fucker cast a sedation spell on him.

Apollo towered over me. “You weren’t supposed to find them. For what it’s worth, you would have been a great friend.”

He moved, but I moved faster. Sending a blast of power knocking the male on his ass. My shadows binding him.

“You talk too much.” I spat.

Turning back to Hem and Eris she held him in front of her. “Don’t make me kill him.” She spoke. Now using him as a shield. With his front exposed, I could see the shackles around his wrists. “This could go much more easily if you let me leave here with him. Why do you want a cheating male? You deserve better than that.”

I needed time to assess. My shadows busy with Apollo. Fuck. This was bad.

I laughed. “I hardly call you forcing yourself upon him ‘cheating’, in fact most would call that ‘assault’. And I have no patience for those who force themselves upon others.”

Just then a flurry of shadows shot into the room, ripping Hem’s wrist and dagger from Eris’ throat. My father winnowed into the room. No, this wasn’t my father. This was the feared Shadowsinger, the infamous Spymaster of the Night Court. His tone promised death as he commanded Hem to step away from Eris. She fought his demand, shaking with fear as she remained in place. “Please, you don’t understand. My father is wrongfully imprisoned in HIS court.”

“And this is how you feel it best to approach?” Father stepped closer, a thick, violent air emanating from him. “I will ask you one final time to step away from the High Lord.”

Hemera knew she was no match as she dropped the knife stepping back away from Eris.

Eris ran to me, in an attempt to shield me from any fallout but there was no more danger as father’s shadows apprehended the female.

Rhys and Feyre raced into the room, Nesta and Cassian on their tail.

Rhys whispered to Feyre. “Let Elain know it’s handled.”

Feyre’s gaze went distant as she communicated to my mother.

Rhys commanded Apollo to remove the sedation spell from Adish as Cassian jerked the apprehended male off the ground.

Nesta’s eyes flared with silver as she stared down Hemera before apprehending her as well. My mother and sister rushed in as we followed Rhys down to the gallery basement toward an empty office where the two would be held until Helion arrived. Since they were denizens of his court, it was only right to determine the next steps with him.

As the group strode toward the office, Azalea began tugging at my sleeve. “Sissy.”

“Not now, Azzie.” She gasped, her little legs trying to keep up. “Sissy, please.”

“Just a minute, Azzie”

I felt guilty for ignoring her but my mind was coming out of the adrenaline state it had been in and my heart racing with rage and shock as I processed the revelation that Eris was my mate. That he knew and didn’t tell me.

Ironic considering that I always found Aunt Feyre and Aunt Nesta to be overly dramatic for their reactions to finding out about their own mates.

They were good, loving males who had enough money to live in lavish comfort for all of their days, and were highly regarded among the people of Velaris. How terrible.

Yet here I was. Fuming. Humiliated. That this male, a gorgeous High Lord and a damn good one at that, with a far softer heart than he’d ever let the world see, courted me because I was his mate.

I thought he wanted me for me.

“Sissy-“ Azalea drew me from my thoughts once again. “What?” I finally asked, raising my voice. But it was too late as the door to the empty office was opened, only to unveil a half naked Nyx, trousers unlaced, his body pinning a no longer shifted Layla with the bottom of her dress hiked up, and breasts fully exposed.

Nyx gaped. Eyes wide and frantic. I sent my shadows out to shield them, my father’s following suit, my hand instantly covering Azalea’s eyes.

Layla only pulled her dress up over her tits as she let out a laugh. “Whoops, we thought this room was unused.”

“I tried to tell you.” Azalea’s little voice whispered.

Darkness erupted through the room as Rhys clenched his fists. “What the fuck?” He growled out to Nyx.

My father only grinned, not caring who saw the smug satisfaction on his face. Fully conveying the look of that’s how it feels, you pompous asshole. Get it now? How’s it feel to be humiliated in front of an audience by the unconventional partner your child has chosen to fuck.

Feyre only covered her mouth, stifling a giggle at the situation. Nesta and mother quietly giggling with her.

I used the distraction to remove the enchanted shackles that were still stifling Eris’ power and apparently his ability to speak.

Fury blazed within me, my restraint failing as I spat out my next words much louder than intended.

“How long, Eris?”

Guilt flooded his features, his head hanging low.

“How. Long? How long have you known that I’m your mate?”

My father choked. The shit-eating grin instantly fading from his face, jaw and fists clenching.

A pitiful sound escaped Eris. “Since the first night… in the alley.”

“Wow.” was all I could manage as the walls began closing in around me.

I stepped away but Eris grabbed my wrist. “Please, Y/N. Just hear me out.” his broken voice pleaded. I couldn’t think. I needed space. Needed to breathe.

“Mom.” I looked to my mother. “Can we go home?”

She gave an empathetic look to Eris. “Come on, Azalea.” She reached out a hand. “Sissy needs us.”

Azalea looked to Eris, letting out a “hmph” as she scrunched her nose and crossed her arms. “That was bad.” She scolded, little wings ruffling with each word.

His face crumpled further as his little friend glared at him with disdain, words failing as she stuck her tongue out and winnowed away with mother.

“I love you.” was the last thing I heard as I spirited away.

———————————————-

A/N: I have had so much fun writing this series! Part 9 will be the final chapter but I may eventually give our main character a name and add a few spin off chapters as well. If that would be of interested to you, let me know!

Tags:

ACOTAR list: @lilah-asteria

Eris list: @angiedsv

Series list: @b0xerdancer-writes @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thelov3lybookworm @starryhiraeth @5moremin @azrielsmate3 @coolepowersthings @isa1b2h3 @inloveallthetime @julesofvolterra @deeshag @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @courtofbatboydreams @yourmumsdumptruck @nebarious @glitterypirateduck @mybestfriendmademe

#acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #azriel shadowsinger #a court of wings and ruin #elain archeron #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #elriel #tamlin’s daughter #azriel’s daughter #elriel’s daughter #acotar x Olivia Rodrigo #bad idea right #acotar smut #acotar angst #acotar fluff #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #daddy eris #Eris #rhysand #feyre #feysand #nyx archeron

[umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken]

In the future

Nyx *trying to figure out how to woo Tamlin's uninterested daughter*: Hey mum, how did you fall in love with dad?

Feyre *chuckling*: Well, it all started when I went Under the Mountain.

I broke my arm and he came to visit me. Instead of fixing it out of the kindness of his heart, he wanted to make a bargain. When I said no, he twisted my arm so hard that I screamed, so I agreed. Otherwise, I might have died of infection.

Then he drugged me and made me dance for him until I got so sick that I vomited.

Once we were finally free and we could be together, he found out that we were mates and didn't tell me, but he did tell all of your aunties and uncles. I was a little mad, so we made a promise to never lie to each other or keep secrets.

Then when I was pregnant with you, he found out that it could kill me, but he kept it a secret from me, even though we'd promised to never keep secrets, but he did tell all of your aunties and uncles who didn't tell me either!

Nyx: 😟

Feyre: 😃😐😶 ... that was... fucked up, actually.

Nyx: Do I... need to kill dad?

#anti rhysand #feysand #anti feysand #nyx archeron #tamlin's daughter #pro tamlin #tamlin

[azrielsdove]

hi, i love ur fics so much, they are all so well written! can i request a fic where reader is feyre + rhysands daughter and is secretly seeing tamlins son. rhys and tamlin catch them and all hell breaks loose, while feyre is just trying to calm everyone down.

Thank you lovely!!!! I am SO happy you are enjoying them. I hope this was what you wanted <3

Spring’s Son

Warnings: Suggestive, 18+

***

“I want to come with.” You said, waiting for your parents reaction. Your mother looked at you curiously, your father shrugging.

“Why not?” He replied, a smile coming onto his face. “Let’s make it a family affair, bring Nyx too!” Your mother rolled her eyes, knowing your father liked to flaunt their family in front of her old lover.

“Fine. Be ready after lunch, we are heading out then.” You nodded, bounding to your room in excitement. You took a long bath, cleaning every inch of your body. You took the time to perfectly do your hair, choosing a dress that you felt would pass with your parents. Truly, you were too old for them to argue you, but the High Lord and Lady were not forces to be reckoned with most days. You admired yourself in the mirror, appreciating your reflection. You looked lovely.

You met your parents after lunch, your brother already waiting with them. He looked at you, a knowing smirk on his face. “Dressed to impress, dear sister?” He teased, your eyes flashing a warning to him. Your mother had that look on her face again, like she was trying to solve an equation. Your father scoffed at your brother, batting him on the back of the head.

“She’s dressed like a Night Court princess should be.” He said, holding out his arms to grab yours. He admired you, ever the proud father. “My beautiful girl.” It was your brothers turn to roll his eyes, a trait he picked up from your mother.

“Alright, alright. Can we just go?” He asked, ready to get to the Spring Court. Nyx was especially good at pushing Tamlins buttons, that trait he took straight from your father. You mother tutted over him, smoothing his jacket down and ruffling his hair as the four of you prepared to winnow away.

***

You landed in the Spring Court with your father, your mother and Nyx close behind. Your parents linked their arms together, you and your brother following dutifully behind as you walked up to the manor. You spotted Tamlin at the top of the steps, his wife next to him. You strained your eyes, looking for the familiar mop of blond curls. You were dismayed to find that his son had chosen to not greet your family.

“Tamlin! Camellia! How good it is to see you, old friends.” Your father spoke, shaking hands and kissing cheeks.

“Rhysand. Feyre. Children.” Tamlin replied, nodding to each of you. “Come, let us head inside.” He led you into his beautiful home, you pretending to simply be admiring the decor as you looked around.

Where was he?

He was usually waiting with his parents whenever you had come, ever the polite Son of Spring. You knew you couldn’t ask, couldn’t draw attention to the fact that you came just to see him. You sat at the long table in the dining room, the seat across from yours remaining empty. You tried to ignore the disappointment rising in you, putting a polite smile on your face as dinner was served.

Dinner went rather uneventful, casual chatter happening over the meal. Your parents and Tamlin had long since forgiven each other, but that did not mean the teasing ended. “Now, Tam, can we be promised one of your delightful concerts after dinner?” Your father asked, a twinkle in his eyes. The High Lord of Spring looked up to the ceiling, as if asking the Mother for the patience to deal with the High Lord of Night.

“Why, Rhysand? You wish to show off those dance skills again?” Tamlin replied, a smirk on his lips. You let out a small laugh, remembering your fathers so-called ‘skills’. He shot a glare to you, a look that said You’re supposed to be on my side. You smiled at him, teasing.

At the end of dinner Tamlin stood, extending an arm to your parents. “Please, if we shall meet in the study. We have much to discuss.” Your parents stood as well, following Tamlin and Camellia down the hall. You were certain there wasn’t actually anything to discuss, just an excuse for the four of them to drink and gossip together.

You got up from the table, intending to go search for the son you so desperately wanted to see. Nyx clicked his tongue, calling your attention to him. “What?” you asked, arms crossing defensively in front of you.

“You could be less obvious. You looked like a wounded puppy when you saw he wasn’t here.” Your brother answered, leaning back in his chair. Your cheeks flushed at his words, teeth clenching.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” You defended, heart racing. Were you truly so easy to read?

Your brother sighed, picking at his nails nonchalantly. “Sister, please. I know everything about you.” His words were cocky, the know-it-all bastard. You released your arms, turning to walk towards the door.

“Stay out of my business, Nyx.”

***

You carefully prowled the Spring Court manor, hoping you’d catch him at any turn. You stayed mostly to the areas you knew you were allowed to be in, not knowing how to explain yourself if you were caught. You ended up in the giant library, standing in front of the windows overlooking the gardens. There was a delicate beauty here, one that almost rivaled the deadly beauty of the Night Court.

You startled when two arms wrapped around your waist, lips pressing against your neck. The familiar scent of grass and honeysuckle swept over you, realization dawning. “Where were you?” you asked, sinking into his arms.

“Why? Did my Nightingale miss me?” He teased, leaving a trail of kisses on your skin. You softly moaned, hands clasping over his.

“I always do.” You said, turning in his arms. You looked at the long blond curls, the brilliant green eyes. He was as handsome as his father, with the beauty of his mother shining through. “Cyrus.” You whispered, a hand coming up to twist a lock of gold around your finger. “You have been ignoring me.”

He gave a small smile, leaning down to kiss you ever so gently. “Never, my dear. I have been out hunting from dusk to dawn with my father. Strange creatures are being seen on the edges of our court, I couldn’t let him go alone.” Cyrus explained, a hand coming to cup your face. “I am always thinking of you.” He murmured, his voice heavy. “Especially on lonely nights.”

A shiver shot through you at his words, desire spreading quickly. “Is that so?” You teased, leaning up to press kisses to his jawline. “What, exactly, do you think about?” You let your kisses fall to his neck, licking a stripe over his adams apple. He groaned, his arm tightening around your waist, the hand on your face coming to grasp your throat.

“You know better than to play with me when we have been apart so long.” He growled out, the hand on your throat tightening pleasurably. You moaned out, eyes blown wide with desire. Cyrus was good at this, at reducing you to a puddle in a matter of moments. His hand released your throat, sliding to the back of your neck so he could angle your head up to his. “Oh, how i’ve longed to hear that sound again.” His lips came down to yours, quickly convincing your mouth to open. You knew it was a bad idea to be doing this where anyone could walk in, but your mind was so clouded with need that you didn’t care.

Cyrus pushed you back, pressing you to window behind. “Cyrus,” you gasped out, “anyone can see.” His lips tore from yours, resuming his initial attack on your neck.

“I don’t particularly care.” He said against your skin, a soft bite bringing a whimper from you. Your nails dug into his back, the hand around your waist dipping under your skirts. “I had to skip dinner, I knew if I saw you I wouldn’t be able to keep from touching you.” He whispered as he gently bit under your ear. His fingers toyed with the delicate lace covering you, an embarrassingly needy noise coming from your mouth. He brought his lips back to yours, kissing you hard as his fingers slid to where you needed him.

“What, may I ask, is going on here?”

The two of you froze at the cold voice, the haze of lust shattering around you. Cyrus pulled his hand from your skirt quickly, hiding the wetness on his fingers behind his back. You pushed off the window, straightening your dress as you looked at your father. In that moment, Rhysand looked ever the dangerous Dark Lord he was rumored to be.

Your gaze turned to Tamlin next to him, the same anger visible on his face. You knew his claws were seconds away from coming out, not able to believe the sight in front of him. You paled, shame creeping up your spine.

“Father, I-“ Cyrus began, ever the gentleman. Rhysand cut him off.

“You better have a good reason for having your hand up my daughters skirt.” Your fathers voice was nearly shaking with anger. Tamlin scoffed, turning the attention to him.

“Please,” he said, looking to your father. “With the way you Night Court fae act, she probably seduced him herself.” Your face flushed at the two of them, humiliated by the scene they walked in on.

“Enough!” Cyrus boomed out, hand reaching to grab yours. “There is no dark magic here. Rhysand, Sir, I love your daughter.” The room went speechless, the quiet deadly. Feyre and Camellia chose that moment to enter the room, catching the end of Cyrus’ confession. Your mothers eyes find yours, a knowing look in them. That gave you the strength to step closer to Cyrus, your hand coming to rest on his arm.

“Father, Tamlin, I love him.” You declared, looking up to smile at the handsome blond. Your father gave a great roar of laughter, rounding on Tamlin.

“What kind of a game is this, Spring?” He seethed, getting in his face. The other High Lord rose against him, his anger as equal.

“Who’s to say this isn’t your game, Night? You come into my home, send your daughter to whore out my son!” Tamlin yelled, retaliating against your father.

“Stop!” Your mother cried out, stepping between the two of them. She turned your father, grabbing his hands in hers. “You truly haven’t felt the love coming off her in recent months? The way she suddenly wished to accompany us every time we came here? Tell me you aren’t so naive, husband.” She spoke, calming the rage inside him. Camellia did the same with Tamlin, whispering soothing words to him.

Your father looked slightly ashamed, realizing he hadn’t noticed the change in you. He looked back to you and Cyrus, an apology in his eyes.

“Aw Mother, why did you stop them right when it was getting good?” Your brother drawled from the doorway, commanding the attention of the room. Your mother sighed at him, shaking her head at her eldest.

“Now is not the time, Nyx.” She chided, turning back to you. “How long?” She asked, gesturing between the two of you. Cyrus cleared his throat, unsure if the answer was going to create more anger or help dispel it.

“Around a year.” He said, holding his breath while he waited for a reaction. Your mother smiled, walking over to embrace you.

“I am happy for you, my darling.” She said, holding you tight. “Why keep it a secret for so long?” She asked, looking at you quizzically. You gestured to the two fathers, looking ready to attack each other again.

“Have you ever met them?”

***

#acotar x reader #acotar #rhysand #feysand #feysand!daughter #tamlin!son #springs son #feyre #tamlin #OC #requests

[achaotichuman]

Stupid little headcanon.

Rhysand sends Nyx to the Illyrian camps to ‘toughen him up’. Nyx sees how unjustly they are treated and starts a revolution. He teams up with Tamlin’s daughter Dahlia who is in love with a Hewn City woman who is going to be sold in marriage.

Nyx secretly leads the Illyrian uprising, while Dahlia and her girlfriend Aisling lead the Hewn City uprising. They get all the other Heirs of the Courts on their sides, make deals with Hybern’s new Queen and Vallahan’s Court.

The Court of Dreamers won’t know what hit them.

#acotar #acotar headcanons #acotar au #Nyx archeron #tamlin’s daughter #anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti ic #anti inner circle

[animezinglife]

Another next gen concept nobody asked for:

The Night Court munchkins--Nyx plus Cassian and Nesta's kid(s)--love when they get to go to Aunt Elain and Uncle Lucien's. They love the ancient, beautiful trees around the property and the sprawling gardens; the nearby ponds stocked with fish and plenty of rocks to skip.

Nyx inherits his mother's artistic eye, and no matter how rowdy he gets as a child when it's time to run and play, he notes every single detail of the forest and those gardens to the point he even notices things Lucien has missed. He does the same even with Elain's garden.

I stand by the Cassian-is-a-girl-dad headcanon, and I fully believe that when/if that ends up being the case, they will have at least one quiet, calm, sweet girl who's maybe even a bit shy and likes to keep to her books.

That's the daughter who beams from ear to ear and truly comes out of her shell when she gets to help Elain bake, and is excited when she even gets to lick the spoon. Elain always lets her take flowers from her garden, and the little girl uses her books to press them and turn them into permanent staples in her room back home.

The kids all love to hear Lucien's stories from the time he's spent among the courts, and love to hear about his travels to the human lands and the Firebird queen. Elain by this point is fully versed in them all, but she'll sit quietly and listen, making sure to catch his eye every now and then and sending a little tug of love or playfulness down the bond.

The kids adore them, and they soak up every minute of being with them.

Nesta and Feyre pretend to be mad when Elain sneaks the kids extra sweets right before sending them home, but never actually are.

And Elain knows it.

(Click here for another next gen headcanon).

#acotar #next gen #a court of thorns and roses #they love their aunts and uncles okay? #nyx #cassian #nesta archeron #nessian #nessian daughter #feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #animezingscenario #acotar next gen #headcanons

[belle-keys]

“hey mom can we go buy some damon?”

“no baby we have damon at home”

and the damon at home is just rhysand

#i will win the real war (end the rhysification of fantasy love interests) #highkey daughter of the blood daemon #and lowkey tvd damon #i dislike bat boi so much #anti rhysand #anti rhys #anti feysand #anti feyre #anti acotar #anti acosf #anti sjm #anti sarah j maas #sjm critical #my tvd rewatch #damon salvatore #rhys is actually a rip-off of two damons hmm

[stargirlfeyre]

I saw a post a while ago about Rhys and his daughter and how when she gets overwhelmed, starting when she a baby, he wraps her up in his wings and it just becomes her comfort zone even when she gets older. She would just walk up to him and bury herself in Rhys’ wings and he would just know what was up and it made me kinda cry ngl. I could totally see Feyre doing that with Rhys as well, she just gets tired and hides in Rhys’ wings.

I’ve tried to find that post and the user but I can’t find it.

I could also seen him being super protective over her when she brings home a boy to meet Rhys and Feyre for the first time. He’s that dad that would purposely clean or sharpen his weapons while the boy is in the same room and give him a death stare. Along with her overprotective uncles Cassian and Azriel of course.

#@sjmass give feysand a daughter NOW

[shallyne]

Can someone draw a Feysand daughter with brown hair and violet eyes.

They always have Rhys's dark hair

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #feyre archeron #feyre #feyre cursebreaker #high lady of the night court #rhysand #rhys #high lord rhysand #feysand #feysand children #Feysand daughter

[ignite-stars]

burning star, acotar

summary, the daughter of night and her two stubborn uncles in one snowball fight. what could go wrong?

word count, 700

author’s note, this is not a reader insert. my oc is feysand’s daughter, velaris archeron. all platonic pairings.

Rhysand wished he could capture the sight before him. Perhaps he’d memorize the sight, and have his High Lady paint it on a canvas— hang it broad in the House of Wind. Let the memory live on forever and ever. Hold it so tightly, so dearly, and never ever let go.

Burning starlight had dusted Velaris’s cheekbones— along with the bridge of her nose— flecking her tanned face shades of cosmic silver and gold, and defining the striking violet of her eyes.

But she hadn’t seemed to notice, holding her aching stomach as she bolted across the landing next to the Sidra. She was laughing, a melody to the dancing stars raining from the horizon.

A sudden hue of red peeked from the tree line not too far from the riverside; a figure frantically emerging from the woods with a triumphant chuckle. Cassian, melting snow dripping from his hair, a wild look in his eyes, and a abnormally large snowball in his hand.

Velaris quickened her speed, heading for what she thought was safety: crouched behind her Aunt Nesta, who was enjoying the night of quiet Starfall with the other Valkyries, glass of sparkling wine in hand.

“Hey! That’s not fair!” Cassian roared, pointing an accusing finger, “you’re too old for time-outs!” Velaris struggled to contain her fit of bemusement at the warrior’s tantrum, while Nesta quirked a brow at her mate.

It was Gwyn who replied, sipping steadily on her wine, “technically, she’s only taking cover— using your weaknesses against you,” the redhead snapped her fingers, “a signature move of yours, if I remember correctly, General Cassian.”

Velaris threw him a cheeky grin over Nesta’s shoulder, to which Cassian stuck his tongue out. Childish he may be, but no way was he letting her beat him for the second year in a row.

The year before, she used him as a human shield against Azriel. Two snowballs pelted right at him, bruising his abdominals, his ego, and his heart.

Speaking of the Shadowsinger, Velaris had been conversing mind-to-mind with him for the past half hour. The devious look on her face should’ve told Cassian everything he needed to know— but the blinding faith he put in both his niece and his best friend, distracted him.

But Rhysand, knowing his daughter as well as his own heart, could see the devious furrow in her eyebrows, one that mirrored his own, all too well. While Nyx had gained more attributes of his mother— blue eyes, sharp nose, and loving demeanor— Velaris was Rhys’s carbon copy. Even down to his roguish smile and horrible sense of humor.

He reached out for his daughter’s mind, claws gently caressing her mental shields. Should I be concerned for Cassian’s well-being, darling?

A moment of silence before she shrugged. Maybe a little. The words sounded distant— almost underwater. Rhysand could tell she was trying her hardest to ward him out of her thoughts; to keep him from her plans with Azriel.

Sounds delightful. He purred out. Instead of warning his brother, he opted to lean against the trunk of a bare tree. Whatever his spymaster and daughter had coming, he hoped it was entertaining. Just remember that you’re up against your personal trainer, I wouldn’t maim his pride too much.

Velaris seemed to wince at the thought. I heard Starfall brings horrible fevers. Guess I’ll have to sit training out tomorrow.

Rhys smiled a feline smile. It’s a shame Illyrians know how to hold grudges, otherwise I might find your lies excusable.

I’ll deal with the repercussions when the time comes, dad. Velaris ducked lower behind Nesta. It’s far too late to change my mind now.

Before he could ask what she meant, Cassian let out an oomph! His head jerked forward, causing him to stumble a few steps. The perfectly rounded snowball in his hand fell flat on the ground, right in front of his feet. Utter confusion took over his features before he spun on his heel. “Fucking traitor!” He whined.

Azriel stood a couple feet away, having gone unnoticed while he stealthily approached. Though he remained silent, a shit-eating grin spread across his plump lips.

Velaris finally stood from behind Nesta, pride pillowing in her flared, leathery wings. She gave Azriel a thumbs-up that warmed his cold heart, “Illyrian baby.”

#rhysand acotar #azriel x oc #cassian x oc #feysand’s daughter #cassian acotar #azriel acotar #vela and her uncles so cute #starfall is so beautiful i just had to write about it #ignite-stars #a blurb but cute nonetheless #acotar oc #nyx archeron #acomaf #acowar #post acosf

[lily-chen-supremacy]

the nautilus to the freshmen of harding-pencroft academy is what the house is to the inner circle.

#nautilus #daughter of the deep #ana dakkar #gemini twain #nelinha da silva #ester harding #rick riordan #riordanverse #acotar #sjm #acosf #the inner circle #morrigan #cassian #nesta archeron #nessian #feyre archeron #rhysand #feysand #elain archeron #azriel #elriel #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara

[umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken]

Post ACOSF

Mpreg Tamlin needs to happen if for no other purpose than to have him randomly shapeshift during a High Lord meeting in front of a GAWKING inner circle, who are like YOU CAN FUCKING SHAPESHIFT DURING PREGNANCY???

Tamlin: ...yes?... I'm a shapeshifter?... Of course I can shapeshift during pregnancy?...

IC + Feysand: YOU DIDMNT FUCKING THIHNK TO TELL US THIS???

Tamlin: Oh I'm sorry, was I supposed to be your helpful ally before or after you kept threatening to kill me?💅🏼

#pro tamlin #tamlin #feysand #anti feysand #anti rhysand #tamlin's daughter

[readychilledwine]

Hi I hope you’re doing well! Can I request an azriel x feysands daughter reader fic where azriel leaves velaris and the inner circle temporarily after elain chooses lucien over him. He comes back like 50 years later and at that point rhys and feyre have two kids, nyx and reader. Azriel meets reader at a bar and the bond snaps, azriel is so shocked by the bond snapping that he doesn’t notice that she looks just like rhys and feyre. After going on dates and stuff, reader introduces azriel to her parents and everyone is hella confused.

Small World

Warnings - best friends daughter, implied smut, angry rhys

A/N - Azriel can't catch a break. Poor guy. Also, peep this cute divider from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Part Two is Here

Azriel held your hand tight as you two walked through Velaris. You were running late to a family dinner where he'd be meeting your parents, brother, and a few other people for the first time.

He watched familiar streets passing by, shadows grown eerily quiet. You stopped at a familiar restaurant, one he had frequented over 20 years ago. He came here with Rhys and Cassian almost weekly before they became mated, and he left the Night Court for 20 years.

He had told you his story of a beautiful love forbidden to him due to her mating bond. He had told parts of his past, of his journeys outside of night, of the past years he had spent healing.

He had been back in Velaris for almost 3 years. 2 of which were spent solely with you.

You had been moving into the apartment next to his when you two crossed paths. You had been struggling to carry a heavy box, so he had taken it from you, helping you get it into your apartment.

That quick interaction turned into nights spent reading together so you both weren't alone. Then coffee in the mornings. Then days spent shopping. Evenings spent out to dinner.

You two spoke about everything.

Well.

Almost everything.

Families were a mostly banned topic.

Azriel knew you had a brother 5 years older than you. He knew both of your mother was involved in your life, as well as married and mated. He knew you had 2 blood aunts, one of which was married, one of which was not. He knew your father was a banned topic.

You knew he had 2 blood brothers, the ones who had scarred his hands, 2 chosen brothers, and several others he considered family. That his mother was wonderful, that he hoped his father found a shallow grave.

But you had told him bringing family into your love life normally ended poorly.

And he had told you he had not been around or spoken to his found family since he left.

You two closed that book, choosing to be just you and him.

You stopped before hitting the private back room Azriel had been in many times. "As a reminder, my dad and brother are dicks."

Azriel leaned down kissing you softly. "I can handle a few assholes, angel."

You sighed heavily. "Just remember, I didn't tell you because they ruin everything. Please." He nodded again, resting his forehead on yours.

You two stood there breathing for a few seconds as he ran a hand through your sandy blonde hair. "Let's just go in. An hour," he murmured, moving to kiss your neck. "One hour and then we go home."

Home.

The cabin you two had just purchased and moved into.

Small. Intimate. Cozy.

Everything you two both didn't know the other never knew.

Everything you two wanted as soon as the bond snapped a couple months ago.

You shared one last kiss, opening the door.

Your father and mother had their backs to you, speaking with your brother who instantly paled the second he saw who you were with.

Azriel had gone stiff, eyes locked with a shocked Cassian.

Nesta almost dropped her wine with a gasp, handing flying to her mouth as she stepped back and shook her head.

Azriel looked at you again. Studying you harder.

Sandy blonde hair.

Button nose.

High cheek bones.

Part illyrian.

Eyes that reflected starlight.

Eyes that were near violet.

Rhysand's eyes.

"Mom, dad," you approached them, ignoring the tension in the room and pulling Azriel with you.

Rhys turned first, whiskey glass shattering in his grip before a look of shock and anger hit him. Feyre immediately turned after that. She was too stunned to move. "This is my mate and boyfriend-"

Elain whispered before you could finish, eyes watering with sadness and hope, "Azriel."

Rhys nodded, scratching his jaw. "I know who he is, babygirl."

Azriel watched you as you looked between them before your face fell. "You're that Azriel."

Feyre clapped her hands, forcing light and air into the room. "Let's sit and eat! This is a um, lovely, surprise. We should all be excited!"

Aunt Elain immediately moved, sitting on Azriel's other side. His hand found yours under the table, lacing your fingers together. Your father sat across from him, mother to one side, Cassian to the other. Nyx sat next to Nesta and her Elain as you all eat at the circled table.

"So where have you been," Nyx refused to be intimated by the situation, secretly filing this away as an example of why he was the better child. "And when did you start seeing my sister?"

Azriel shifted, clearing his throat. "I spent the last 17 years traveling the world. I've been back in Velaris for 3 years. I started seeing y/n 2 years ago."

Cassian drank his beer as if it was water before setting the mug down and refilling it. "You have been back for 3 years and didn't think to yourself that you should go visit your brothers?"

"I wasn't ready."

"But you were ready enough to fuck my daughter as a revenge move?"

"Rhys!" "Dad!"

Rhys put a hand up to your mother and gave you a look. "You would feel the same had it been Elain who ran, Feyre Darling. And you," he turned towards you. "You should have told me who he was."

"Do not speak to her like that. She is not a child."

Nesta looked up, sending a silent prayer to the Cauldron. "She is my child," Rhys growled. "You've been bedding your niece."

Nesta slammed her hands down, "Enough! She is not his niece by blood, and she is clearly upset. If you all cannot be civil, I'm taking y/n home." The room went silent with Lady Death's power flickering through it. "This is the first real family meal we have gotten to have in 20 years," a sad gaze met Azriel's. Guilt shook him, reminding him if the friendship he and Nesta had formed. The friendship he had abandoned. "Can we please just enjoy it."

You were uncomfortable, tears beginning to form as his scarred hand refound yours under the table and squeezed. Rhys nodded, going back to his food as the sound of utensils barely scraping and drinks being poured filled the air.

You should have put two and two together.

Scarred hands.

Massive wingspan.

Mysterious male.

Pretty dagger.

Of course he was that Azriel. The Azriel your Aunt Elain had been pining for for years now.

The Azriel who left in the dead of night leaving only a note.

The Azriel whose seat sat empty your whole life as your dad's stare always lingered on it.

You squeezed his hand back, glancing at the white wine on the table and your empty glass. It was a rare occurrence for you to drink, but now seemed like the perfect time. "Daddy, can I have some wine please?"

You hadn't thought about that either as two deep male voices replied as they reached for the wine, "Of course, baby."

The silence was deafening. Your real father too stunned to speak, Azriel's face growing red with embarrassment.

Cassian, always the joyful uncle, broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, as did your mother. The two of them gripping each other tightly as your father sat blinking over and over, trying to erase this moment from him mind.

It was then the tears fell, and you stood, leaving them to eat as you went into the bathroom.

Azriel and Rhys stared at each other. "We have to get through this for her. You have to get over it. It would have happened regardless of me being here or me leaving."

Rhys growled. "You left without warning, without consulting us, without-"

"You told me to do whatever I needed do to move on and prevent war with Autumn and Day. I did what I had to. I got help, I saw the world, I moved on. I did not plan on coming home and meeting y/n. I didn't even know she was yours until tonight." Azriel took a deep breath before turning to Nesta. "She needs you. Please."

She stood, her and Feyre went after the young female without hesitation. Nyx stood, offering an arm to Elain and forcing her from the room as his father and uncles, well, uncle and soon to be brother, spoke. "You want to talk about fucked up abandonment, Rhys? Where the hell have you been the past two years of her life?"

"Do not speak to me about things you do not understand or know about."

"How can he know," Cassian started gently. "How can he know how we're all working on fixing our relationships with her if we don't tell him. We aren't innocent, Rhys. Maybe this is the first step. Accepting them, loving them despite everything," a silent message was sent to Azriel through Cassian's eyes, "Maybe that's what it takes to bring y/n home."

Rhys looked up, eyes being to line with tears. "What does she say about me?"

Azriel sighed, drinking his whiskey heavily. "That her father favored her brother. Despite his power and ability to look and find the truth, he believed her brother without hesitation and would punish her for his actions at times. That he threatened her once by reminding her that as an illyrian, and as a female, her worth was in whom she was sold to."

Azriel watched the visible flinch. "I can't help but to wonder how bad the argument must have been for that to have been what you said to her."

"I caught her with Tamlin," Rhysand's voice broke. "I caught them whispering about running away together. About sailing somewhere and living out their lives, just the two of them now that he handed Spring over to his heir. She didn't know what he had done to Feyre, who he was. I," Rhys shook his head. "I lost my shit without explaining. Tamlin also didn't know she was mine. I hid her so well for her protection. To prevent anyone from trying to purchase her. I did such a great job protecting her that my protection backfired and she began to rebel."

Cassian sighed softly. "She moved out because Rhys told her he gave up. That if she wanted to explore the world without his hands, without our guidance, then that's what she should go do. He set her up with enough money to last 5 years, bought that apartment complex you two live in, and sent her on her way."

"She just doesn't listen."

Azriel shook his head. "Why would she listen when she isn't heard? From her side, you treat her like your father treated Selene."

"I love her much more than my father ever loved my sister."

"Then show her," Azriel leaned back into his chair. "Show her before I take her from this place, too."

Cassian stiffened, his breathing becoming deep but strained. "They're about to come out. Y/n wants to leave."

Azriel stood, "Then we go. I won't force her to stay here. Let me know when you're ready to talk, Rhys. And if you never are, do not be surprised when I do what I have to in order to keep her safe and happy."

You were out the door quickly and into Azriel's chest, shadows pulling you two away to wherever he took you for comfort, to wherever you felt safe. Feyre turned to Rhys, fire blazing in her eyes, "Fix. This."

PS - there will be a part two

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

#acotar #acotar x reader #send asks #azriel acotar #send anons #azriel x reader #azriel #rhys acotar #cassian acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x y/n

[achaotichuman]

A Field Of Dahlias

Notes:

Finally free of the Mountain and Amarantha's grip on the people. The Spring Court is scrambling to get back to normal. With their wedding not far away, Tamlin is struggling to keep his Court from falling into disarray. When he starts to get sick things begin to take a turn for the worse and worser.

When Feyre is taken by the Lord of Night, it doesn't look like anything it can get any worse. With his life experience Tamlin should know that things can always get worse.

Request- Do you think you could write about dahlia in this context: https://www.tumblr.com/praetorqueenreyna/737196004108058624?source=share, hopefully featuring deadbeat at first mom feyre, horrified stepdad rhysand, tired of it all tamlin and a supportive lucien/eris.

Anyway here is this little fic. Also here is part 1, part 2, and part 3 if you missed 'em. You can also read this on Squidgeworld, or AO3.

Also! I am now realizing I have strayed entirely from what the original prompt was, which was basically the exact same events of Acomaf and Acowar just with the added inclusion of Tamlin being pregnant with Feyre's kid. Buuuut this is my story and I shall do as I please.

Plus if I rewrote the entirety of the Acomaf and Acowar books this would be unnecessarily long and I would lose all interest, so in an effort to keep things fun I have pretty much scraped the entire plot of Acowar and made it my own.

I think my ideas are more fun anyway. But when I tell you this plot is was deeper than I meant it to be, I mean it.

Anyway enjoy!

Tag- @sonics-atelier (Anyone who wants to be on the tag list, feel free to ask me!)

____________________________________________________

The next few days passed, each seeming longer than the rest. Meetings with Hybern that lasted hours, and keeping the mask glued to her face. 

Lucien often found his way to the former human, snarking with him in the corner, sharpening his tongue and finding every way to irk the General. 

Though it seemed Jurian entertained his game with insane eyes and a twisted grin. Lucien met it with skilled words and smart replies. Watching them dance around each other as they practically sized the other up was entertaining in it’s own way, Tamlin supposed. 

Tamlin found herself coming into contact with the woman in robes more often than she liked. 

Lady Amber, with her cunning mouth and smart eyes, she was a threat. A cruel snake in tall grass. Always lurking around the corners in the shadows. Watching with slanted eyes, everytime she opened her mouth Tamlin expected to see a forked tongue. 

After a meeting, Lucien remained engaged with Jurian in whatever talk they had found. Jurian watched him with a cocked head and eyes that barely blinked. He looked as though he had lost it. 

Tamlin slipped away from the meeting. A murmured goodbye to the Lords and an apology that she would not stay later. Hybern had brushed her off as he spoke to another Lord, and Tamlin was too tired to snap for a response. 

Passing through the cold hallways, she kept her eyes ahead, watching the crawling shadows. A chill ran down over her skin, showering her in goosebumps. 

As she walked over wooden floors. Dark green dress whispering around her ankles, she almost wished she had just grabbed Lucien, or someone to escort her. 

She hated this place. Hated every room, every reminder of the woman who had made her life hell for so long. 

But that would be stupid, she knew her way back to her room, and didn’t need someone to hold her hand. 

But as she turned a corner, Tamlin nearly jumped. 

Lady Amber stared at him, with her cruel icy eyes. Tamlin took a quick step back, one hand subconsciously going to her womb, the other falling to her thigh, where a concealed dagger laid. 

“Lady Amber, I didn’t expect to see you.” Tamlin told her. 

“Just taking a breath of fresh air.” She smiled. Even her voice sent chills down her spine. 

“I see,” Tamlin replied, “Well, you enjoy yourself, I must be getting to my rooms.”

But as she went to walk past her, Lady Amber chimed, “Leaving so soon? Come Lady, we have barely spoken these past few days.”

Tamlin swallowed and said, “Well, we have been quite busy.”

She went to step away again, but Lady Amber moved smoothly to block her way to her rooms. 

Shit. 

Tamlin breathed a tad quicker than she needed to, and Amber noted that she cocked her head, a serpent's smile on her face, “Well, neither of us are busy now. Please, let us talk.”

Tamlin swallowed, another action she noted, shit, “About?”

“How far are you along?” Amber asked, tilting her head to the other side slowly. 

She considered not answering, but ended up replying, “Five months.”

“Halfway then,” She murmured. 

The world seemed to darken, Tamlin took a step back, feeling like something was pressing in around her lungs. Constricting her breathing, “Yes.”

“That is very interesting, and the father, or mother, is the Cursebreaker? Right?” She took another step forward. 

“Yes.” Tamlin let the agitation shine in her voice, “Now, if that is all you have to ask, I will be on my way-”

“Oh but darling, I have more questions,” She said, reaching out a hand, her sleeve pulled back to reveal a bracelet of emerald. Her fingers brushed Tamlin’s arms, and she reeled back. 

“Please do not touch me.” She insisted. 

“Oh I apologise, my dear, but please do answer all my questions.” She prowled closer and Tamlin felt like prey caught in a hunting trap. 

“I can answer any more questions in the meeting tonight.” Tamlin said, “Now please, I will be going.”

She pushed past Amber and headed in the direction of her room, wanting to sprint, to run, to go, go, go-

Amber grabbed her arm with such a force, bruises would surely be left. 

Tamlin screamed, but a palm was slapped over her mouth. 

She tried to summon claws, her magic fought to the surface. Screaming and crying as it raced to protect its favoured son. 

But Tamlin cried out again as her magic slammed into a wall, preventing it from escaping. It shoved and pushed, and screamed and it felt like he was exploding under her skin. 

Her eyes had screwed shut but when she opened them she saw the bracelet on Amber’s wrist glowing golden. 

“My daughter has told me much about you, Spring Lord. And the power this child could have.” She whispered cruelly. 

Tamlin struggled against her arms, but Amber was deceptively strong. And she was feeling weaker and weaker. 

She laughed, “Emeralds hold much power from my family. Ours are enchanted, my dear.”

Tamlin tried to scream, tried to run, but Amber pulled her closer. 

“The birth of your child will fuel the magic of Spring for centuries to come. To harvest that energy,” Amber's hand slipped down to take away the dagger from Tamlin’s thigh, “We would be unstoppable.”

No. 

No, no, no, no. 

She laughed, and that dagger began to slide over whatever bare skin she could find, “Even your blood holds power, it sings-”

“Amber!” A voice shouted. 

Tamlin cried with relief as Amber quickly threw her to the floor. Barely catching herself on her knees. 

Shit.

Dear Gods-

Looking up, Tamlin saw a familiar face. 

Jurian was leaning against the wall. Eyes wide, mouth curled into a grin, face twisted with insanity. Tamlin couldn’t exactly blame him if he had lost himself, afterall he had been an eye ring not just a few months back. 

“Jurian.” Amber said smoothly, “To what do we owe your company?”

She didn’t keep the sneer out of her voice. The man flicked his eyes between Tamlin and her, tilting his head to the side, looking like a cunning cat. 

“The King has sent for you two.”

Amber straightened at that. Eyes glancing down to Tamlin. Burning with such an intensity Tamlin heard the words she spoke, ‘Don’t tell him a thing that happened here.’

As if the King of Hybern would care if she had been trying to kill her. 

“And why would that be, Jurian?” Amber asked bluntly. 

His grin twisted into something insane once more, “Why the delightful Cursebreaker has come.”

She was going to be sick. She was going to be sick all over the floors, or pass out, or a combination of the two. Tamlin raced to stand beside Jurian, and Amber maintained a leisurely pace behind them. 

Her heart was thundering against her ribcage. Desperately wanting to run. To hide, to leave immediately. But there was nothing to be done. A predator at her back and an insane man at her side, there was no telling what either of them could, or would, do. 

They went through the dark tunnels, and then finally, they were opening the large, heavy doors to the throne room. 

Amber then strutted ahead and Tamlin sighed with relief as she was finally in front of her and not leering behind. 

Hybern sat upon the massive, black carved throne. Soldiers flanking at every side. Many hidden in shadows, waiting and watching. Lucien was standing near to the throne but when he laid eyes on Tamlin, he ran to her.  

“Tamlin are you-” Lucien blinked as he saw the sheer panic in her eyes, “Tamlin what happened?”

“We have to get out of here.” She whispered quickly. 

“Dear Gods, the Night Court-” Lucien cupped her face. 

“Lord and Lady of Spring, come forward.” Hybern barked. 

Lucien looked over his shoulder and quickly took Tamlin’s hand leading her up to stand beside the throne. 

Leaning in, he whispered, “Keep up the mask a little longer Tam, we’ll get out of here.”

Dear Cauldron and Mother. 

The room was large, the ceiling looming far overtop of her. The throne she stood beside, was the same one she had seen her father kneel before. Seen Amarantha kneel before. 

Now she stood there. Below the same King that had allowed his General to take over Prythian. 

From the shadows of the throne room, she saw blue eyes glaring, and a cruel smile. Amber watched from where she could not be seen. Emerald bracelet gleaming in the minimal light. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

She was being hunted. Prey in a trap. Prey in a trap. Prey in a trap. 

Lucien’s eyes followed her. Finding the glowing sky blue in the shadows. He looked back at Tamlin, opening his mouth to ask, or to accuse Amber. But he was cut short when the doors slammed open. 

And writhing, kicking and screaming, was Rhysand and Feyre Archeron. 

Her blood turned to ice. 

She was dressed fully in Night Court uniform. Face twisted in hatred and anger. Eyes glowing with a storm. 

Lucien stepped out in front of Tamlin, half hiding her from sight. Just enough that Feyre would only be able to make out half of Tamlin’s face and blonde hair. 

“Welcome Night Court, to the Kingdom of Hybern.” Dae drawled from his throne. 

“You.” Feyre hissed with such venom Tamlin nearly flinched. 

“King of Hybern.” Rhysand murmured. His voice reverberated with power, even if he was held back by guards. 

Three others came into view, and Tamlin’s eyes went wide at the Night Court entourage. Two Illyrian warriors, and a blonde-headed female with wide brown eyes. All their faces pulled back into snarls. All their eyes found the King of Hybern. 

Feyre however was staring right at Tamlin and Lucien. She screamed something that Tamlin couldn’t make out. 

“What an interesting group,” Dae said. Dragging a finger up the arm of his throne, “So you’re the great Cursebreaker? Finally a face to put to the name.”

“Release us!” Feyre screamed at him. 

“Now, I cannot do that so soon, Feyre.” Dae said, “Why, you just got here. After trying to steal away with my little prize no less.”

Little prize…

“We’ll return to our Court.” Rhysand offered. “And give you no more trouble.”

Liar, as always. His ploy was as clear as crystal water, yet there was something nearly trusting in it. 

Daemati magic, he was attempting to coax the King into releasing them. 

Dae just laughed at his attempt, “Then I wouldn’t be fulfilling my part of the bargain.”

“Bargain?” The blonde haired female questioned. 

Dae then gestured to the Spring lords beside him, “Why my bargain with Spring of course. I help to return their missing fawn, and I will have their loyalties in the War soon to come.”

“You bargained with them.” Feyre breathed, her spiteful face nearly blank for a moment. Before it curdled into undying rage, “You bargained to steal me back!”

“Feyre.” Tamlin breathed. 

“How fucking dare you!” She screamed, voice raw and powerful. Echoing through the room. 

That was the mother of her child. His child. Tamlin looked between Hybern and Feyre. Hybern who smiled so coldly down at her. Eyes narrowed and cruel. Feyre’s mouth was pulled back into a snarl as she pulled and kicked against the guards holding her down. Like if she was free she would run at the King, or Tamlin. Lucien seemed to sense that as he subconsciously held out an arm. Keeping Tamlin locked behind him. 

Rhysand’s violet eyes jumped around the room. Locking into everyone. Taking into account every piece on the playing field. 

Tamlin sucked in a breath, grazing Lucien’s arm with his fingers, “Feyre, we are saving you from him-”

“How dare you decide what is good for me!” She cut him off with a shout, “You have no right.”

“Feyre.” He felt the High lord’s power seeping into his voice, and begged it to stay at bay. For now.

“You will not take my mate back there.” Rhysand snarled, violet eyes glowing with barely concealed power. 

The day outside felt like it got a little colder. And Tamlin's eyes went wide as his heart pounded against his ribcage. Mask slipping away as anger took hold of him. Burning inside his flesh, face heating up, bones tightening in his skin. He wanted to shift claws and fur and teeth and lash at Rhysand, but a hand reaching over to brush the back of his hand halted every action. Lucien’s eyes were set on the Night Court, but Tamlin could hear the unspoken words. 

‘Just a little longer.’

Hold out, keep the beast at bay, just a little while longer. 

So Tamlin straightened his back. Summoning the face of the High lord of Spring, he felt the cruel cold mask of his father slip away as he faced Rhysand with all the raw, unfiltered hatred he held for him, “I do not care if she is your mate, I do not care if you think you have a right to lay claim to her. She is mine and she is coming home with me.”

Tamlin remembered his mother’s face when his father laid claim to her time and time again. He remembered the tragic story of the former Lady Spring, how she had been taken by his father and claimed without consent, all for the crime of being his mate. 

Tamlin wouldn’t let that happen to Feyre. 

Never would he ever stand by and let that happen to any other female again, least of all his Feyre. His sarcastic, wild, beautiful Feyre. 

But as the words left his mouth something deeply rooted, and hateful twisted in Feyre’s eyes. Causing the storm to darken like never before, she tried to leap forward but was reigned in by Hybern’s soldiers. 

“Let her go.” Tamlin ordered, turning his eyes up to Hybern. 

But Dae just lifted a finger, an order to be silent. Tamlin nearly snapped but Lucien’s hand gripped him quickly. 

Damn it. 

Dae lounged back in his throne, “Now, this has been as interesting as ever, but if I may, I would like to perform a little experiment.”

At those words, all eyes snapped to the King of Hybern. Lucien’s head turned so quickly Tamlin thought he heard the Fox’s neck crack. 

“What-” Tamlin murmured, but his words were cut off. 

The giant, black stone room seemed to darken for a moment, like the lights had flickered on and off simulatanously. 

In between a heartbeat, the air shifted, tightening until it was nearly to heavy to breathe. Shadows pressed in and darkness swirled in his vision. It was like a presence had descended in Hybern. 

An earth shattering clap of thunder, Tamlin jumped back and Lucien grabbed him by the waist. The Night Court reeled back, and someone screamed. 

But the doors of the throne room were thrown open so quickly they slammed against the walls. 

And four figures strutted in with their heads high, eyes cruel and each wearing the same twisted expression. 

Four human women, each with flaming eyes of a multitude of colours. Like different colour flames. Each breath was a puff of power into the whirlpool of magic that had shadowed the throne room. 

There was a shout of something incomprehensible and the two Illyrian warriors tried to rush at the human women, but the soldiers were fasted and in a split second, the two were chained to the floor by threads of black magic. 

There was laughter and smiles from the humans as they gazed upon Fae brought so low. One, an older female were greying hair and silver eyes, stopped before the Illyrians, glaring down with a smile. 

Tamlin felt the hatred burning off of her, years of remembrance from times humans kneeled before Fae was in her gaze. The High lord of Spring couldn’t say the hatred for their kind wasn’t deserved. It absolutely was.

But then she turned her eyes up to Hybern as the four approached his throne. 

The seemingly eldest of the group spoke first, “Hybern, make this trip worth our time.”

“As if I ever wouldn’t.” Dae purred to her. Eyes gleaming wickedly. Something like disgust gleamed in hers, but she held his evil smile with a uncanny version of her own. 

“What is-” Rhysand yelled out, cut off by a guard pulling him back by a rope that had been quickly tied around his neck. 

Lucien moved even further in front of him. Hands twitching like he might just grab Tamlin, toss him over his shoulder and run. 

Tamlin put a hand on his shoulder, if only to prevent him from doing just that. 

“This, Lord of Night,” The eldest human purred, “is power.”

They bargained. 

It was clear as day, Tamlin saw in all their eyes was magic that shouldn’t belong to humans. It came from a bargain. 

And it was only confirmed by Dae’s next words, “The Queens of the Human realms and I have created a bargain of our own. I give them the power they so desire, and in return I have their support.”

The blonde female on the floor, next to Feyre, screamed, it was raw and guttural, “We had a deal!”

The Queens just grinned with cruel eyes. 

Hybern was planning to invade the mortal world. To take them all back as slaves, and the Queens had countered with a plan of their own making. A last ditch effort to protect their lands, making plans with the enemy. 

Tamlin caught the eye of one of the Queens. A beautiful woman, with eyes that were wide set like a fawn, hair perfect and dress smooth. Her fiery eyes burned into his own with delight and something rest-assured. 

She winked, her grin softening into something confident and genuinely kind. 

Tamlin returned it with understanding in his eyes. 

They were here to protect their Courts. The same way he was. 

But as he looked back down at the Night Court, it seemed the great powerful Daemati’s had yet to catch onto that. 

Rhysand’s eyes were wide with panic, the purple shining bright like light violet, he writhed against his chains. And Feyre tried to dive a foot into the gut of the male holding her back. 

“Let her go.” Tamlin ordered again. 

Dae once again ignored him, “Back to my little experiment. As per requested by the Queens. I will show you just the amount of power we hold in the palms of our hands.”

With a snap of his fingers. The doors slammed open. 

And the room fell silent as the air was sucked, and darkness filled the world. 

Whispers of ancient evil and cruelty filled his ears, and phantom hands crawled up his skin. Invasive and touching, and filled with a power he could barely imagine. 

The whispers got louder and for a moment Tamlin made out what they said to him. 

“Son of the Lady. Son of our Lady. Son of the Blessed. Son of Dahlia. Son of Dahlia. Son of Dahlia.”

Dahlia.

Son of Dahlia. 

His mother. 

The Cauldron was placed on the floor, and the darkened liquid sloshing inside lapped at the edges of its cage. Whispering to the outside, curious and peeking around. Like fingers that traced the rim of the bowl. Beckoning. 

There was a choked gasp and Tamlin’s eyes snapped down to Feyre, she wasn’t looking at the Cauldron, or the Queens or Hybern. 

Rather she was staring down at a pendant around her neck. She held it in her hand as her eyes were wide, staring at it as it glowed with power. 

Emerald. 

He saw it in her palm, it flashed at him like metal gleaming. With power it glowed so brightly she clasped it in between her two hands, eyes shooting up, and they met his. 

Momentarily stunned, hatred was all gone, as she looked to the Cauldron, then back to the necklace. 

Two and two were quickly put together. 

The necklace was reacting to the Cauldron.

“What-” Feyre gasped out. 

Then there was raucous laughter as a snake stepped out of the shadows. 

Lady Amber stalked towards the Cauldron like it called for her. The hood of her robe fell away as she approached, looking down into the deep magic it held like it was her own. Her eyes gleamed so wickedly, and as she lifted her hand, her sleeve fell down to her elbow. 

And exposed her emerald bracelet, which glowed like a shining star in the sky, as if it was basking in the delightfully evil power of the Cauldron. Eyes gleaming in the reflection of the light, Amber turned her head up to the King of Hybern. 

“We will be unstoppable, my King.” She murmured. 

Dae grinned as he tossed a leg over the arm of his throne, lounging in all his glory, “I know, High Priestess.”

She was their High Priestess. No wonder she had such robes. 

Tamlin looked back down to the emerald clutched in Feyre’s hand, as she hid it under her shirt. 

He looked back at Amber’s emerald.

Feyre met his eyes, wide with confusion and fear. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

They needed to get out of here now. 

“Lucien-”

Lucien’s eyes widening halted Tamlin’s words as cries and screams filled the air once more. And a set of guards winnowed in, bringing all Hell with them. 

Feyre was the figure out what was happening, and the first to scream as she lunged forward. 

“Nesta! Elain!” Feyre screamed, a guttural sound that shook the room with magic. 

On the cold floor they were thrown, in just their nightgowns. The two Archeron sisters were tied, skin bruised, the eldest one had her lip cut, red and black blooming on her eye from where she had undoubtedly been punched. 

The middle one was screaming, tears freely dripping down her face. Her hands were bleeding like she had been desperately grabbing onto something to prevent them from taking her. 

No. 

Fucking hell no. 

“What is the meaning of this?!” Tamlin shouted up at Hybern. Stepping forward, wanting to rush at him. 

Lucien held him back by his wrist. 

Dae just grinned once again, “The experiment.”

“Let them go! They have no part in this!” Feyre shrieked. 

“This was not part of our deal.” Tamlin seethed. 

“No.” Amber said, hands hovering over the Cauldron, as if taking in warmth from a fire, “it was in our deal.”

Nodding, the King of Hybern grinned, “We needed a test subject for this little experiment. And these two, sisters of a Made Fae, will work perfectly.”

“You told them about my sisters!” Feyre accused, screaming as she nearly snapped her chains. Teeth and claws nearly breaking her skin, breaking through a near impenetrable force of magic around her. 

“No, no I-” 

“He didn’t.” Amber replied smoothly, eyes greedily lapping in the sight of the Cauldron, her own form of worship as she gazed upon it, “My dear little runaway daughter did.”

Runaway daughter. 

“My daughter has told me much about you, Spring Lord.”

“Release them at once!” Tamlin shouted, hands curling into fists. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of this was supposed to happen. 

Who told the King about them? Who would do this? Who would be so cruel-

“I told you not to come here, Tam.” An emotionless, static voice called. 

A full body chill descended upon his skin, every nerve on end, burned and raw. 

Please no. 

If there was anything in the world he could ask for, he would ask for this to have all been a dream. Ice flooded him as starkly as the warm anger that had curled in his gut as another walked through those large doors. 

Pale blue robes, blonde hair curling around her face. Eyes filled with nothing at all, as she walked towards the Cauldron, towards the two sisters. 

“What have you done?” Tamlin whispered. 

Ianthe stoic eyes didn’t meet his as she said, “You should have never come here.”

She told Hybern. Ianthe revealed the sister’s. 

But that meant-

“Dear daughter.” Amber crooned, as she beckoned the Priestess forth. Ianthe obeyed, her head low as she stepped up to the Cauldron, beside her mother. 

“Dear mother.” Ianthe murmured back, her voice as blank as her eyes. 

No. 

But denial was worth nothing, as Rhysand hissed, “I knew you were a viper, Ianthe. The apple never strays.”

For the first time since entering, emotion flashed in her blue eyes for a moment as she flinched at the words. 

Amber ignored Rhysand as she stepped back and grabbed her daughter by her shoulders and held Ianthe in front of her. Fingers digging into the bone until it must’ve hurt. But Ianthe just held her head high and gazed into the Cauldron. 

“Enough embellishments, let our experiment begin.” Dae declared, “The Mortal Queens wished for a show of how a human can be Made. We will give them just that.”

With a snap of his fingers, the guards grabbed Nesta and Elain pulling them to their shaking knees as they both pulled back and tried to kick away. 

Dae observed them both with cruel eyes, before ultimately saying, “Put the pretty one in first.”

Nesta screamed as Elain was dragged to the Cauldron. 

“No.”

She was lifted up, her head thrown back as she cried out. Heels slamming into the lip of the Cauldron, like she might shove off, like she might tip it over and run. 

A burst of unadulterated magic struck him and Tamlin rushed forward. To Dae. To the Throne. 

Claws and teeth and everything vicious and snarling. Tamlin lunged forward, but something burning and too bright grabbed him and reigned him back. Gagging him and pulling his clawed hands away from Dae’s face. 

Tamlin snarled and Hybern laughed. 

Gasps echoed from behind him, and Tamlin’s eyes widened by a fraction as he realised, Lucien was no longer in front of him to hide the evidence of the baby. 

Hybern mouthed, ‘You will regret this.’

A shout of terror and anger vibrated in his bones as Lucien writhed against his own restraints, held back after trying to dive after Tamlin, and the girl being thrown into the Cauldron. 

Nothing could be done. Even as Feyre screamed so loud the Palace nearly shook, Elain was thrown in. 

The emerald on Amber’s wrist glowed as her smile widened. 

And the world shook. 

Everything quivered. 

Like a shaking breath of pleasure, the ground, sky and wind melted into the point of the Cauldron, as Elain was boiled alive. 

It was barely a second long. 

Her hands broke the surface of the Cauldron and she grabbed the edge. Head breaking up for air, she gasped, and as she took a new breath, reborn, remade. The Earth quivered again. 

Her long brown hair stuck to her back, neck and shoulders. Pushed up by her hands, nightgown soaked and sticking to her skin, revealing every part of her frame. 

And Ianthe at the Cauldron, her stoic mask was burned away as she began to shake. Breath stolen from her lungs as her blue eyes shone like sapphires. 

Elain’s hands slipped and she nearly fell back into the dark waters. 

But Ianthe’s hands were faster. Nearly shoving away from her mother, she lunged forward, grabbing the creature that had once been the human Elain. And pulling her out, to the ground. Soaking her robes with water that was both holy and sinful. 

“Ianthe!” Amber shouted. But Ianthe ignored her as she gently laid the shivering Elain in her lap as she kneeled on the floor. 

Still the same eyes and sweet face, but her limbs were longer now, skin healthier, glowing. A golden light was pouring from her chest and the tips of her fingers. Haloing her head. 

Ianthe was panting, breaths becoming shallower and shallower as stared down at the newly Made Fae. 

“Ianthe, get back over here.” Amber seethed. 

“Mate.” Ianthe gasped out. 

The world exploded. 

Nesta screamed as she lunged forward and tore Elain away from the Priestess, shoving Ianthe to the ground. 

Amber shrieked something. Face burning red from anger, hands shaking, she snapped forward. Ianthe tried to scramble back, but her mother grabbed her, pulling her hood, her head covering off of her blonde hair. Ianthe screamed as she cried, trying to pull the hood back over her head. 

Amber pulled Ianthe’s face to her own as she screamed curses in the name of the Mother in her face. Curses of breaking her vows, and Ianthe sobbed, heavy wet tears falling down her face. 

“Enough!” Hybern’s voice echoed through the room, Amber looked back up to the King of Hybern, who nodded to her. Amber gritted her teeth and threw her daughter to the floor and quickly covered her head again as she cried and whispered prayers to the Mother. Apologies and begging for some kind of mercy. 

Tamlin writhed against his chains. Pulling and pulling. Elain sobbed into Nesta’s chest, but the guards pulled her away, as they grabbed Nesta and forced her to her feet. Nesta screamed bloody murder as she was dragged to the Cauldron. 

“No, No!” Feyre cried as she too was helpless but to watch her eldest sister be picked up and brought to the surface of the burning ice of the Cauldron. 

But as she was plunged under, Nesta twisted her body and turned to Hybern. 

As her skin was burned going under, the flaming water eating away at her skin and bones, turning her into something else. She lifted a hand. 

Her eyes flashed. 

Target locked. 

Promise marked. 

Nesta Archeron pointed to the King of Hybern, and Dae, Dae with all the power in his hands, flinched as his eyes widened and his skin paled. 

And the once human girl went under. 

If the world quivered in pleasure at Elain’s death and rebirth, it roared with anger at Nesta’s. 

The air turned stiff and everyone began to gasp for air like it had been taken away. The ground under them shook and the stone floors screeched as it cracked. 

Outside thunder split the sky. Causing the world to divulge into a show of rage and hurt, as the Cauldron cried out like it was being torn apart. 

And finally, after too long and barely a second later at the same time, two hands broke the surface and Nesta tried to shove out of the Cauldron. Dark water dripped down her face, as she grabbed the rim of the bowl, she lifted her eyes. 

Silver danced in them like flames of molten steel. 

The whole room went wholly still. 

She gasped and gagged, tears of anger and pain streaming down her face. She hauled a leg over the Cauldron, but as if something were pulling her back in, she slipped back. 

In a sudden burst of light and energy, Lucien rushed to the Cauldron, free of his restraints. 

However, he wasn’t faster than Elain, who scraped her knees, blooding herself further as she leapt up and grabbed her eldest sister’s hand. Dragging her to the floor. Nesta fell in a boneless heap in her sister’s arms. 

Lucien, reaching them just a second later, didn’t waste time as he shrugged off his coat and draped it over the two sisters. Nesta snarled up at him, but out of energy she couldn’t force him away. Elain accepted the warm, dry clothing with little more than a piercing glare. 

Made. Pointed ears pushed past their long locks of hair. Skin glowing with power that wasn’t previously there. Fae, through and through, with nothing human left to them. 

Dae cleared his throat, cutting through the power and magic writhing in the air. He addressed the Queens, “Now you see what the Cauldron can do, the power it holds. Creation itself is in our hands.”

Creation itself. 

Twisting his head, Tamlin looked towards Feyre. 

Her eyes were wet with tears, and her eyes kept darting between everyone. Like she didn’t know what to think about first. 

They were so utterly fucked. 

Feyre didn’t know what to do. 

At first it had been going just as planned. 

Then she had turned her back on the Cauldron and laid eyes on one she had only ever seen as an eye ring on Amarantha’s finger. Jurian had smirked at them as guards descended on them. 

Brought kicking and screaming to the throne room she had at first been set on rushing at the King herself. As she watched Cassian and Azriel struggle against their restraints. As Morrigan was tied up and Rhysand was chained, she pulled her power to the surface and prepared to rush him. 

Then her eyes fell to two standing by the throne. Tamlin mostly hidden behind Lucien, who was watching with blank eyes. All anger had consumed her in that moment, as she remembered being trapped behind those doors, locked in that house. She screamed and wanted for blood to spill. 

Then those mortal Queens, betraying them and looking down at Azriel and Cassian like dogs. Feyre wanted to kill them too. 

Then her sisters, tossed into the Cauldron and remade. Because Ianthe, someone she had considered a friend, had given them away. Had willingly handed them over to Hybern. 

Ianthe’s own words came back to her, “Just know not to take the word of Faeries at face value." She had told her. Almost like she was warning her. 

Or perhaps taunting her, Feyre thought, since she ended up betraying her. 

But then Ianthe had pulled Elain into her lap, and whispered that dreadful word. 

Mate. 

Feyre had wanted to scream and shout, but froze. Nesta reacted the quickest, shoving Ianthe away from Elain. 

Then that High Priestess of Hybern, Ianthe’s mother, had screamed in the Priestess of Spring’s face. 

Ianthe still was on the floor, her mother hovering over her. Watching her every move. 

And Feyre found herself clutching the emerald necklace now hidden underneath her shirt. 

It glowed with the power of the Cauldron. And when she looked at Ianthe's mother’s wrist, a bracelet of pure emerald glowed under her robes. 

What else had Ianthe told her that day? When she gave her necklace? The day she had cried out in her mind for someone to take her away from that wedding? 

"Take it, Cursebreaker." As she let it hang from Feyre's neck she murmured, "You may need it."

"Need it?" Feyre whispered. 

Ianthe just smiled, "Trust me."

"You said yourself not to take the words of Fae at face value." Feyre countered. 

"I did." She stated. 

Before Feyre could once again point out the blatant hypocrisy, Ianthe said, "Try to see past the person, Feyre. Try and see what may lay underneath."

Try and see what may lay underneath… 

What lays underneath, what lays underneath, what lays underneath?

Now Nesta, Made Fae and stripped of her human skin, clutched Elain. Whilst the middle Archeron sister pulled her in protectively, anger and pure fear twisting in her face as she helped to shield the eldest. 

Feyre clutched the necklace tighter, part of her wanted to rip it off for the deceit of Ianthe, the other made her keep it on. 

One of the Mortal Queens, those traitors, stepped forward and away from the rest. She was the eldest of the group, her darkened eyes swept over Nesta and Elain before turning back to Hybern, “We see that you have such great power, Fae King. With this confirmation, my sisters and I ask we go through to the next phase.”

Hybern smiled coldly, “Then let us proceed.”

Proceed. 

As the Queen smiled, the others encircled the Cauldron. 

Hybern caught Feyre’s widened, confused eyes. As the Inner Circle around her were strapped with chains and gagged with cloth. Morrigan fought them away as best she could, but the blonde was exhausted and easily restrained. 

“I see you are confused, Archeron. Allow me to explain.” He grinned, “The Mortal Queens will be vessels for the Cauldron’s magic, and with them we will spread power throughout the entirety of the Realm, taking full control of this world and all its inhabitants.”

Full control. 

Feyre snapped her eyes to Rhysand, whose entire face had gone completely pale. That rope around his neck choked him as it was pulled. Spine bending, his back arching as his whole body trembled. A half-muffled cry of pain tearing from his throat. 

Then her eyes tore to Tamlin, gagged and bound. Green dress singed where the ropes burned over his clothes. And when her eyes fell to his middle. 

Like alarm bells were blazing in her ears. Fae senses all sharp on and on edge. Instincts in buried deep down in her core fought to the surface. Forcing her to crawl forward, towards him, as if if she laid hands on his skin this would be undone. 

Her mind was screaming it, a voice that wasn’t her own told her what it was. 

Pregnancy, a baby, her child. 

Her baby. 

Shit. 

Feyre rushed to her feet on fiery legs, her muscles contracting and burning. She rushed for the throne, claws shooting through her fingertips. She would rip Hybern’s throat out, she would kill them all, she would undo all of this. 

She screamed as the chains around her limbs dragged her to the ground, the noise that left her throat was half feral animal. Every one of the Inner Circle swivelled their heads to her. Their eyes wide, fearful and confused. 

She met them with a look of anger and pain. It coursed through her skin, making her fill with light from another power that was not naturally her own. Skin glowing, hands smoking with fire and the whole world so sharp and clearer than ever, a sob was torn from her. Making her whole body shake. 

Shit. 

Then a scream echoed through the castle. And smoke filled the throne room. 

When Feyre looked towards the Cauldron, she saw black, ashy smoke that rolled out in waves, rippling over the stone. 

And the Priestess wearing black robes, who had called herself Ianthe’s mother, was bent over the side of the Cauldron. Her face completely submerged, burning and bubbling off. 

Ianthe stood behind her. Eyes wide and full of terror and rage. Feyre nearly flinched as she witnessed the Priestess of Spring with her hand forcing her mother’s face into the Cauldron  as she screamed and screamed, even under the water. 

“Release her!” Hybern’s voice bellowed through the room. 

Ianthe did not listen. As fire flamed in her eyes she screamed for all to hear, “This is what you deserve, you fucking witch!”

In a second, everything turned. 

As soon as Ianthe’s declaration left her throat, her mother twisted up. Her hand grabbing onto Ianthe’s robes and tried to force her down into the Cauldron. 

“Ianthe!” Feyre screamed. 

The Priestess tried to kick and fight back as her mother came back up from the Cauldron. 

Oh Gods. 

Her face, fairer than before, eyes pools of blazing fire. Hair dripping and soaked, light that spilled down her shoulders. Like the sun had come down from the sky and walked as a person. Blinding and beautiful. And so, so angry. 

Her mother screamed something incoherent as she pushed her daughter to the lip of the Cauldron. 

“The emerald!” Ianthe screamed as she grabbed onto the lip of the bowl. Nails tearing away, fingers pouring blood as her mother tried to shove her in. 

Hybern shot up from his throne and gaurds rushed to the Cauldron. 

The emerald. 

It burned a hole through her shirt, and marked her chest as it filled with undiluted power. 

Feyre grabbed onto the emerald even as it singed her palm, burning her flesh until it was scorching and smoking. 

With no idea what it did or how to use it, Feyre did the first thing that came to her mind. 

She brought up every drop of power she had writhing in her, screaming for release. Screwing her eyes shut so she only saw black. She imagined the seven orbs of magic, sitting deep in her belly. Waiting for their chance to rise. She imagined each Court. With their magic, their skies, their sights, their feels. Even the wind was different for each. 

She felt the emerald grow hotter and hotter and hotter until her bone was exposed and turning black from heat. The pain was nothing compared to the magic clawing its way out of her body. 

Winds that surrounded her, each different, some harsher, some hotter, some softer, some colder. Feyre didn’t know where her body began or ended as power collapsed in on her, and the emerald became her only anchor to the world around her. 

Screaming erupted in the throne room and Feyre opened her eyes. 

She saw light, golden beautiful light, it shone in her eyes and hair and skin. She met the face of Ianthe and her mother. 

Ianthe grinned so wildly as her mother plunged her into the Cauldron. 

Feyre screamed and the world shattered. 

The Mortal Queens drew swords from the pockets between worlds. The eldest tossing off her heeled shoes and diving at the guards holding back Rhysand. 

She cut them down in one fell swoop, heads rolling to the ground, and the High lord of the Night Court was free. 

Feyre didn’t feel the ground beneath her feet, and when she looked down, she saw that she hovered above it. Power writhed around her like threads of light and fire. The colours shifted from green, to purple, to white, to black, to blue, to every colour she had ever seen and more. 

With her hand clutching the emerald, she felt it, sucking the energy around it. 

She gave and gave and gave her magic until the emerald had all of it. A stone of magic and power. Until it was no longer recognizable as an emerald, until it was just a pool of pure magic. 

Falling to the floor, her knees cracked against the stone, she pulled it close to her heart as all magic left her. 

Her breaths were slowing, her power was gone, her ears were rounded now, instead of pointed. And she felt the undoing of the healing work, as her neck felt more and more fragile, the bone chipping away. 

Not much time left. 

Ianthe’s mother left the Cauldron’s side as she rushed for Feyre, running with her hands out, trying to get the emerald from Feyre’s hands. 

In one final burst of strength Feyre got to her feet and threw Ianthe’s mother to the floor. Then ran for the Cauldron. 

Her feet gave out under her. 

Sprawling across the floor, Feyre saw through darkened eyes, the emerald rolling from her hand out across the floor. 

Then Ianthe’s mother laughing as she stood over Feyre. 

“Off with your head.” She crooned, as her foot came down and snapped her neck. 

 Tamlin didn’t think he would be able to break free of the restraints that were holding him down. 

Then he heard the sound of bone under foot. And he saw her again, red hair, and laughing cruel eyes. Hands on his bare skin. And then hands on her skin, her power holding her up as she snapped her neck. 

In a burst of immense power that washed through his veins. Forcing to the surface. Roots that shot up from the ground. The ropes turned to nothing around him, bursting into light and warmth. 

And Tamlin launched at Amber. Her head tilted back as she laughed and reached for the emerald. 

But never got to it as Tamlin pulled her down to the ground. 

She screamed as her arm reeled back and hand closed into a fist, connecting with his jaw. He cried out in pain, but grabbed onto her hand and yanked hard enough that a handful of blonde curls were ripped out. She screamed, pulled her hand back again and her punch landed in his belly this time. 

Tamlin screamed, as she laughed and pulled her hand back again

Amber shrieked as fire split across her side and she was thrown across the room. 

Lucien screamed his name and ran to his side. 

He couldn’t feel much, that punch sent fire up his jaw, he tasted blood in his mouth, but nothing was compared to the terror seizing up his every movement as pain twisted and pounded in his belly. A sob was ripped from his throat. Big, wet tears shedding down his face, but he forced himself up. 

Lucien grabbed and held him back. But Tamlin laid eyes on the glowing emerald, and the chaos around it. 

The mortal Queens were fighting the soldiers with all the strength they had. Swinging their swords and meeting the soldiers for every strike. But being human, they were losing the fights. 

The Illyrian warriors and the blonde female were grappling with their captors. And Rhysand ran for Feyre. Arms reaching out, screaming as he tried to grab her. 

Then a guard reefed him back, shoving faebane down his throat. And forcing him to be tied once more. 

They were losing. Badly. 

And through all the chaos, the swords clashing and the screaming. Tamlin heard footsteps. Footsteps that reverberated through the room and through his bones. 

When he looked up, Dae stared down with a grin. Reaching down he took the emerald in his hands. Filled with the power of seven High lords. Glowing like a fallen star spilling its light across land. 

“Well look at this.” Dae said as he looked into his palm, at the star of power shining up at him. 

“I do wonder just what we could do with this.” His grin widened as his head filled with all the power he now held right in the centre of his palm. 

“Nothing!”  A voice screamed. 

The world rumbled, shaking with the power that shuddered through it. 

Everyone ceased their movements as the earth seemed to come to a blinding stop. 

Looking to the Cauldron, there she stood. On shaking legs, as unstable as a just born foal. Soaked to the bone, her hair stuck to the sides of her face. Eyes blazing with anger and courage. 

Nesta Archeron clung to her limp sister. Her broken neck unable to hold up her head. Her formerly strong body, now unmoving and dead. 

“You will be nothing.” Nesta breathed, voice a puff of frost in a frozen land. 

Dae stared at her with wide eyes. Unable to anticipate what the middle Archeorn sister was doing. 

Elain appeared from seemingly nowhere, as if travelling in between worlds. As if winnowing, but in a way that was slightly different, unlike appearing from one place to another, but as if running between the worlds, travelling on air. 

She snatched the emerald from Dae’s hand, and as he shouted and went to grab it. Elain tossed the emerald into the Cauldron. At the same time, Nesta pushed in Feyre. 

Coming back to life was a different experience than before. 

Her skin burned and burned and burned. Back arching, each muscle on fire. Flames spread over her skin like never before. Singed like the hairs of a feather. Fire and icy water delving into her body. Ripped apart and put together again like a deconstructable doll.

She wanted to scream, open her mouth and throat and scream for all her life. But as her lips parted her throat filled with water and she choked. Drowning, as her lungs filled with it. The fiery liquid burning and freezing her all at once. In a panicking haze she fought to get somewhere. Anywhere, just out of the water, but there was nowhere to go. 

She wasn’t in open air, instead underwater, deep in a void of darkness that was never-ending. As if she was in deep ocean. Opening her eyes, she looked down and saw black. Around her was just black, above her was all black. All of it was black. 

Black, black, black. 

She was dead, she had to be dead. She was in some kind of eternal punishment. This was the Hell she had been warned about. Oh dear Gods. 

Her body went limp as her eyes closed once more. Unable to breathe, unable to think as she fell deeper into the darkness. Feeling cold seeping in like never before

Then something grabbed her.

A hand held onto her arm, keeping her connected to whatever was with her here. Her eyes shot open again, as her body fought for life, as something, that thing holding onto her, just being there wouldn’t let her die. 

Darkness, it was all darkness, until it wasn’t. 

Until something filled with light dropped down with them, like a drop of sunlight falling into the sea. 

As it fell down to them, Feyre saw her. 

Blonde hair floating around her face in the water. Eyes of bright blue. Skin pale and covered by pale robes. 

Before it could fall past them, Feyre took hold of the drop of light, holding it in her palm as she stared at Ianthe. 

And as that emerald sat in her hand, a warmth spread over her skin. Making her come alight. Her very blood began to glow with its magic, making every line, every vein underneath her skin light up with it. 

The water was gone from her lungs, and air was no longer needed. Her body completely sustained on power. 

Not dead. 

They weren’t dead. 

Looking down at the drop of light in her hand. 

It was the emerald. 

Soft fingers touched her mental wards. Feyre quickly opened them, and a soft voice spoke into the space between them, ‘Feyre.’

‘Ianthe.’

They stared at each other through the water, shimmering reflections connected their hands, holding onto each other like they might slip back into darkness at any moment. 

‘They’re out there still.’ Ianthe said, ‘We need to use the emerald.’

‘How? It has all of my power now. How do we use it?’

Ianthe grinned as she covered Feyre’s hands with her own, closing the emerald in. 

‘Breathe in, and command it.’

The Cauldron was bubbling over. Water splashing over the lip, hissing angrily as it hit the floor. Black flames licked up over the water. It boiled over as the world started shaking. Parts of the roof falling. 

Time to get out of here. 

Tamlin was still unconscious. Blood dripping from his mouth, a bruise swelling on his face. Lucien picked him up and stood off the floor, being as careful as he could. Pulling him into his arms even as Lucien himself still knelt on the floor. 

He took a hit to the stomach, panic swelled in Lucien’s chest as he thought of what could have happened. 

Gods please just make sure he’s okay. 

Where to run? 

The world around them was swirling shadow and fire and smoke. There was no way out. No one could get out now. They were in the middle of a losing fight, a circle of bloodshed and killing around them, as guards shouted, the Queens cried out, and the Night Court spun with their steel and hands. 

And Hybern ran for the Cauldron. The King looked over the edge, going past the bubbling and the black fire spreading. Looking in, trying to find that emerald of light. 

Elain had fallen to her knees and crawled to her shaking sister, who even with her eyes of steel could not hide her horror at the sights around her. 

Lucien pulled Tamlin closer to his chest, and pulled fire from his core as his eyes lit up. 

And his own flames burst through the room. 

Two guards screamed as their body was reduced to ashes. Around them, Lucien formed a circle of impenetrable flames, and did the same for Elain and Nesta. Elain whom had pulled Lucien’s coat from the floor and covered her sister with it. Her doe brown eyes jumped up to him, Lucien nodded to her and Elain returned the gesture with an almost smile, an almost thank you. 

Almost because she couldn’t be anymore thankful to him than she was to the people who had put her in the Cauldron. But Lucien didn’t blame her for that. 

“Feyre.” A voice croaked from below him, Lucien looked down at Tamlin whose eyes slowly blinked open. He coughed and more blood dripped down his chin, “Feyre… Cauldron-”

“Tam we have to focus on getting out alive.” Lucien told him as he lifted his hand and aimed a blast of fire at a guard who threw one of the Queens to the floor and lifted his sword to her. He fell to the ground a pile of bubbling flesh. Lucien heard retching noises and when he glanced over he saw Elain finally keeling over as she vomited at the sight. 

He felt bad for the girl, but had no time to stew over her as Tamlin quickly reefed away from his arms. 

“Tamlin-!” Lucien panicked, hands going out to grab him and pull him back. 

Tamlin shoved his arms back with an apologetic look before forcing himself up on shaking legs. Lucien got up and went to follow him but slammed into a ward. He cried out as he winced, but it was quickly replaced by terror as he realised Tamlin had warded him back. 

‘I’m sorry.’ Tamlin mouthed, before he ran for Amber’s body on the floor. 

He knew what he had to do. 

If only to get everyone out alive. 

Those emeralds, they could absorb power. 

Those words Amber had hissed to him in that hallway. 

She laughed, “Emeralds hold much power from my family. Ours are enchanted, my dear.”

Enchanted. 

Tamlin had been wondering with what, and he finally figured it out. 

They could absorb power from others and give that magic to whoever wore them. And Amber had been going to use her emerald to absorb the power of the Cauldron. 

The emerald that had been around Feyre’s neck had absorbed the magic that had been keeping her alive, leaving her dead and mortal again. If unleashed, that magic was the equivalent to the most powerful Fae in known history. 

What magic did Amber have stored? 

Even as Lucien screamed from behind that ward. Tamlin didn’t turn back, but felt as Lucien gave up trying to run and instead focussed his energy on blazing their enemies. Guilt writhed in his core, but he needed to do this and Lucien would try to hold him back. 

A guard came out of nowhere and tried to pin him down with his sword. But even if Tamlin was near collapsing he wasn’t a High lord for nothing. Claws shot through his skin almost unannounced and it was nothing to slash his throat and leave him choking on his own blood on the floor. 

Tamlin passed the haze of smoke and blood and fire. And finally made it to the darkened corner where Amber was limp on the floor, her breaths shallow but still there, not dead yet. But her face different from the rest of her body, shining faintly, gleaming in the light, as Tamlin put a hand on her forehead, he felt how cold her skin truly was. 

Gold. 

Her skin had turned to gold. 

The Cauldron it seemed, had done a number on her. 

Tamlin gave no hesitation as his hands went to her wrist, pulling up her sleeve he saw the emerald bracelet. 

Yes. 

He went to pull it off, but as he tried to tug it over her hand, her arm shot up. 

“Insolent fool.” Amber hissed as she launched up and grabbed his hair, shoving his head to the ground, forehead bashing into the cold stone. 

The world went dark for a moment, then he was thrown back into it as she pulled his head back up and went to smash him down again. This time he moved, running on adrenaline and fear. 

Twisting back, Tamlin grabbed her robes, then sharply kicked her in the stomach. Amber cried out, but was not quick enough to react as Tamlin sunk his teeth into her throat, ripping with sharpened canines, blood pooled in his mouth and she screamed death in his ear. 

“Fuck. You. Witch!” She might as well have been one. 

Amber spluttered, vomiting blood, every inch of him burned to finish the job, but as the Cauldron bubbled over once more, spilling more ancient water to the ground, causing more black fire to scorch the ground. He knew he didn’t have much more time. 

Grabbing her wrist, it was nothing to snap it. Causing her body to convulse with pain, he let her fall to the ground as he ripped the bracelet off and forced himself back to his feet. 

The world faded in and out, Tamlin nearly tripped and fell. He was losing energy quickly. In no time at all he would pass out, and the High lord genuinely didn’t know if he would wake up again. 

The closer he got to the Cauldron the more the emerald started to glow, and burn. As it burned into his hands, the pain throbbed through his arms and the added injury ca

used him to nearly lose footing again, it was a miracle he hadn’t fallen again already. 

Everything was burning hotter and hotter, the air was suffocating, he could barely see as the room was now little more than black smoke. Another gust of unnatural wind caused by the power of the Cauldron and Tamlin could no longer see. 

He coughed and spluttered, but still ran forward, knowing it was somewhere in front of him. 

Feeling splashing underfoot, the water that touched his skin burning marks that would scar forever, he knew he was almost there. 

Almost there, almost there, almost there-

“There you are, my love.” A cruel male voice hissed as he was grabbed and torn away from the Cauldron. 

“No!” Tamlin screamed as he kicked and bucked and thrashed, desperately holding onto the emerald bracelet like a lifeline in a storm. 

Dae laughed in his ear as he pulled him back, “I may not have the cursebreakers power, but I will make do with yours.” 

Screaming, Dae grabbed the bracelet from his hand and put it to his chest. Whispering something like a spell, a curse or maybe an enchantment, the emerald began to glow, and Tamlin felt himself get weaker and weaker, as the emerald sucked away his magic. 

Not now, not when he was so close. They were on the brink of losing or winning. 

Losing he realised, they were losing. 

Done for. 

He went limp as his eyes started to close. 

Dae pressed his lips to Tamlin’s ear, cold words seeping into his skin, into his bones, as if they were etched there with a knife, “Did you really think you could outsmart me, Tamlin? Did you think you could win?”

A cruel laugh, “You will see what we do to traitors around here, even if they’re dead.”

The world turned cold once more and Tamlin felt himself slipping in and out of reality, as everything became less and less corporeal. 

Dying. 

So this was dying. 

Why did it have to be so inviting? So loving and tender? 

“Please.” He whispered. 

Someone. 

Anyone. 

As he closed his eyes for the final time. Tamlin felt the breath leave his lungs-

“Keep your hands off my mate!” 

The black smoke was forced back by magic of another. And there he stood. 

Free of the ward which had fallen away as Tamlin’s power was drained. Hands blazing with fire and eyes melted into pools of burning, burning light. Lucien looked like flame personified. 

Dae shouted something to his guards, but no one could react quick enough as a blast of fire was shot out at Hybern. 

Dae lifted a hand and a ward blocked the attack with ease. He tilted his head back as he laughed in Lucien’s face, “What was that fire lord? At least give me something harder to fight against.”

“He was just the distraction, bitch King.” A delighted voice hissed, before a knife sunk into Dae’s side. 

The King screamed as Nesta Archeron stabbed him. Blood poured from his side, but as he raised his hands to grab her neck, he dropped Tamlin to the floor. 

It was no matter as Tamlin sprawled, weak and near powerless, against the stone, as he still held the emerald. 

Nesta choked as she ripped out the knife, Dae lifted her above the floor with a single hand as she grasped his wrist with both hands, face beginning to turn pink from lack of air. 

“Stupid, stupid girl.” He said, as he raised the emerald, it glowed with power as he pressed it to her body, “I wonder what power you took from the Cauldron.”

The knife dropped to the floor, and Tamlin looked up to meet Nesta’s eyes. 

Smart, smart girl. 

Tamlin grabbed the knife, and in a swift motion stabbed it into Dae’s back.

The High lord barely heard his cry, just watched as his body seized up and released Nesta along with the emerald on instinct. 

Even as Dae swung around and grabbed Tamlin, it didn’t matter, because Nesta grabbed the emerald. And threw it through the air. 

Dae shouted as  he watched the scene unfold, letting Tamlin drop back to the floor and this time he remained there, content with what he had done as he saw what the sisters did. 

Elain caught the glowing emerald with a single hand and ran for the Cauldron. Even as Dae bolted after her, he was not near quick enough for Elain, who seemed to disappear behind shimmering air and then reappear by the Cauldron, still running. 

As the Cauldron seemed to cry with overflowing magic, Elain held the bracelet over it. Her hands visibly began to burn and blister with the intense heat, but she didn’t back down, didn’t flinch, not even as the burning spread over her arms. 

The Cauldron splashed one more time. 

And a hand shot up out of it. A pale hand with tattoos covered it, an eye drawn into the centre of her palm. Feyre seized the emerald bracelet as she grabbed the edge of the Cauldron and hauled herself up. 

And holding onto her as she was pulled up as well, was Ianthe. Drenched and shivering, but clutching the glowing emerald necklace that Feyre had once had around her neck, to her chest. 

The world faded in and out again. 

Then hands were on him and Tamlin flinched, but when he looked up, he relaxed. Dark brown eyes bore into his own, red hair falling around them. Lucien’s eyes were flicking all over him. Assessing each part of his body, pulling Tamlin into his arms. 

“Hold on.” Lucien begged, “Please hold on, we can win.”

Tamlin smiled weakly at Lucien, as his eyes fell closed. 

“I love you.” Tamlin whispered, as all started to drown out. 

The last he heard was a petrified scream from his mate as he descended into darkness. 

As her hand closed around that bracelet, Feyre felt power flood her veins. Power that was not hers but hers to use so long as the emerald was in her hands. And with Ianthe touching her, Feyre’s emerald in her hands. They were a combined magic. For a moment in time, whilst still in the Cauldron, they were the magic of the Cauldron. 

Eyes blazing and bodies alight with magic, Feyre lifted her hand and closed her eyes. 

Black, she pulled out the power. Commanding it. Breathe in. She told it to obey. 

With the help of the emeralds magic, the power it had sucked it, like a breath held in still lungs, it all blended and merged together. No longer chaotic and refusing to work with each other. Rather it moved like water commanded by the Summer Court magic. Flowing and controlled. 

Feyre grinned with bone white teeth as she lifted a clawed hand, and squeezed her fingers into a fist. 

“Let all Hell break loose.” She whispered. 

And break loose it did. 

The soldiers screamed as they were burned with black fire. Their bodies dissolving into ash. Even as the Mortal Queens seemed horrified at the blinding figures emerging from the Cauldron, they ran to continue their killing sweep. Finishing off the last of the soldiers. 

Then Feyre turned her attention to Hybern, who lifted his head and grinned. Even as he stumbled to one knee, clutching the wound at his side, as his shirt darkened with blood. 

Try me, was what that grin said to her. 

Feyre gritted her teeth. Twisting her hand as she forced the magic to move with her. The world around her darkening. The room filling, as light exploded from her form. Like a star in  blackened night, she was the magic she commanded. 

But as magic was forced onto the King of Hybern, she felt it… start to disappear, rather than make contact with the target. 

Oh. 

Fuck. 

Hybern grinned as he lifted a large emerald amulet, a wall of protecting, keeping his body safe from the attack but absorbing the power. 

“No.” Ianthe shook from beside her. 

He had an emerald. 

“No!” Ianthe screamed, she shoved Feyre out of the Cauldron and fell out with her. Stopping the onslaught of magic so he would gain no more. 

Sprawled against the stone cold floors, Feyre coughed and spluttered. Feeling herself weakening as the power she had been controlling calmed again. 

Now out of the Cauldron, it stopped its bubbling and settled down. 

The smoke still drifted around the room, but now it was silent. As the guard had been killed, and there was no one left to fight. 

Stepping out from the haze of black smoke, Hybern grinned at her, his wounds healing over from the magic she had just handed to him on a silver platter. 

“You should have stayed in the Cauldron, little girl.” He grinned as he lifted the amulet, it glowed with power and reflected in his cold, cruel eyes. 

His hand buried in her hair and forced her neck back, as he placed the emerald on her skin, leaving a branding mark, “Let’s see what power we can steal from you.”

Feyre screamed and writhed as once again she felt power torn from deep within her flesh, the very bindings keeping her together. 

But unlike last time, Hybern was cut short. 

As someone from behind him screamed, “Don’t you dare ever touch my sister!”

And Elain tackled Hybern to the floor, releasing Feyre from the grip of the emerald. 

Elain’s small, untrained body was no match for the King but she fought valiantly anyway. With a scream, she kicked and punched, but not before her hands grabbed the amulet and ripped it free of his grasp. She tossed it to Feyre, and shouted “Run!”

“But-” Big, heavy tears fell down her face as Feyre watched her older sister fight. 

“Run Feyre! Get out!” Elain cried as Hybern grabbed her hair and slammed her into the floor. 

Feyre didn’t run. 

But Ianthe did. She grabbed Feyre by her collar, and in what must have been adrenaline filled strength, dragged her up and forced her to run. 

The smoke began to clear. And Feyre finally saw the true extent of the damage. 

Rhysand was on the floor, her eyes went to him first. Shaking and gritting his teeth, coughing up blood as he tried to stand on two feet. She screamed when she looked closer as she barrelled forward, and saw that one wing had been completely torn off. 

Feyre fell to his side but as she cried, “Rhys-”

He shook his hand and grabbed her arm forcing her to look to the middle of the throne room. 

“Not me.” He croaked out, “Get him first.”

“Get who-” Feyre cut herself off with a gasp. 

She saw them. She saw them and her chest caved in. 

Tamlin lying limp across the floor, his body not moving, his chest not rising or falling. And Lucien hunched over his form, crying and pleading into his neck to come back. 

“No.” Feyre whispered. 

“Everyone evacuate!” The eldest of the Mortal Queens screamed. 

At that same moment, Hybern was bolting for Feyre, eyes blazing with rage. And Elain a bloodied form on the floor behind him, whimpering with pain and just barely holding on. 

Ianthe laid eyes on her. And she screamed a scream so agony filled that Feyre could have sworn the room shook. 

Abandoning everything else. Ianthe shot Feyre one last look, full of apologies unspoken, before she ran for Elain. Falling to her knees by her side. 

Hybern ignored the weeping Priestess as he headed for Feyre, “You think you can get away.”

“Oh I think she can.” Rhysand croaked out. 

The King’s eyes went wide as a rage-filled grin split his face, “No she won’t.”

“Yes, she will.” A new voice echoed through the room. One like fire and wind. Bursting through and adding a whole new level of danger. 

Eris grinned from the doorways, “Hope I’m not too late to the party.”

“Just in time.” Rhysand smirked. 

Hybern laid eyes on the Autumn Heir and snarled, “I suggest running now, Autumn bitch.”

“Great fun, Hybern, just like your General was.” Eris drawled as he drew up fire to his hands. Preparing to launch his own attack. 

Hybern grinned, “Let's see what the pretty Autumn boy can do then.”

Eris’s eyes were seething when he lifted his hand and fire descended on Hybern. 

Shit.

Everything ached, but she had no time to focus in on it. Not as the room was screaming once more, not as they were being thrown into battle again. Elain couldn’t see well at all. Black edging in and out of her vision, she thought she might collapse at any second. 

But slowly, very slowly, she felt the pain of her body disappearing and when she forced her eyes to open properly. She saw her. 

And her chest tightened until her lungs couldn’t open or close. 

The Priestess, Ianthe they had called her, was kneeling over her. The emerald that had been on Feyre’s neck being pressed into Elain’s chest by her hands, she was whispering a prayer of some kind, forcing the power residing in the stone to heal her. 

Elain finally breathed in deep enough that she could move again. 

A sob tore through Ianthe’s chest as relief flooded her. 

“You’re alive.” Ianthe whispered. 

“We won’t be for long.” Elain whispered back as she pointed to the fire show going on before them. 

A Fae with short red hair and burning eyes, that looked similar to the red-headed male they had called Lucien, was summoning fire down on the King of Hybern. But nothing could harm him, as Ianthe’s mother, the older Priestess, had quickly rushed in front of him and held up her hands. 

Whatever power she had been given from the Cauldron when her head had been under, it allowed her to create a ward strong enough to withstand the onslaught of fire from the Autumn male. But forced them to remain standing still so the others around them could rush out of the throne room. 

Elain watched as Feyre met her eyes. Elain nodded and Feyre mouthed ‘I’m sorry’.

Before helping to pick up her mate and run from the throne room. Followed by the two winged warriors and the blonde woman. 

Leaving the last of those there. 

“We need to get them out of here.” Ianthe said, pointing to the middle of the throne room. 

Dead. 

She was dead. The fair fae, who had been called Tamlin, was dead in the arms of Lucien. Her blonde hair matted with blood, her dress torn and ruined. Elain gasped at the sight of her swollen womb, the child inside it either dead or dying. 

And Lucien wracked with grief, his power and energy drained, was collapsed over her. Begging and praying for a miracle. 

They needed to get out.

From across the room, Elain saw another lump of fallen flesh. Nesta coughed and vomited, before forcing herself to her knees, surveying the damage with wide eyes. 

Then she looked to Elain. And Elain shuddered at what she saw. 

Her sister’s grey eyes, now burning, burning silver. 

Nesta looked back at Hybern, and the male forcing fire on them. Starting to weaken. 

They had to act right now. 

“Go!” Elain shouted. 

“But-” Nesta started, moving to go towards Elain. 

Elain tried to get to her feet but she fell again. Dizzy and unable to stand up properly, the feeling of her body having been through so much, the emeralds could only undo so much damage. 

Ianthe was the one to make the decision, as she tossed Nesta the emerald and screamed, “Go!”

Nesta, for the first time, sobbed, wet tears falling down her face. But she nodded and ran. 

But not for the doors. 

For Lucien and Tamlin. 

She grabbed Lucien by his shoulders and screamed, “Grab her and get up!”

Lucien’s eyes went wide, but as if his body was not his own anymore, he obeyed and scooped Tamlin into his arms. Forcing himself up on shaking legs that were even worse that Elain’s. And went for the door. 

Thank God. 

Elain’s head tipped back as darkness engulfed her. 

Nesta was running on burning, burning legs. Every muscle was rigid, she felt everything and nothing at the same time and it was torment. 

But nothing could stop her as she forced herself forward and forward. The fox haired male beside her, cheeks tear-stained and cradling the body of his dead mate. 

She wanted to look behind her, just to catch a glimpse of her sister, but knew she couldn’t, that she had to get out now. She had the emerald and they needed that to remain out of Hybern’s hands. 

The exit was right before them. They were almost out. 

A little more. 

Lucien passed through the doors and as soon as he was gone from the spelled room, he disappeared into thin air, along with his dead mate. 

And Nesta. 

Nesta was grabbed and thrown to the floor. 

The Fire Fae that had been pelting down flame on Hybern and the Priestess that served him had collapsed in a heap on the ground. Fully spent, with barely enough energy to breathe. 

“No!”

She had been so close. 

“You stupid whore!” Hybern screamed in her ear as he went to grab the emerald. 

“Fuck you!” Nesta screamed as she fisted the emerald, and it burned in her hands. 

Then something rage-filled, and hot rolled through her core in dark waves. 

And Hybern was screaming and Nesta’s vision was white with flames. 

Flames that came from her own hands. 

Shit. 

Silver, it filled the room, dancing along the stone floor. Burning the King and his Priestess, sending them sprawling back against the scorching stone. 

She had no time to revel in her own victory, Nesta clutched the emerald which absorbed the power she could not control herself. Running for the unconscious Fae male. 

In a moment of pure fear, strength came to her. She grabbed him and slung his arm around her shoulder, running from the throne room. 

“Wake up!” She begged, still he remained limp. 

With no other choice, or place to run to as she left the spelled throne room. Heading new guards, the armies rushing into the castle. Filling the place with shouting and the sound of steel being unsheathed.

Nesta put the emerald to the male’s chest like she had witnessed happen and forced magic through it. 

“Come on!” She shouted. 

The emerald pulsed, the sound of footsteps quicked. 

“Please, please, please.” She begged. 

He gasped in air as his eyes opened. The green a scorching liquid amber colour. 

“Well hello.” He rasped out. 

“Get us out of here!” Nesta ordered. 

As he looked around and saw new soldiers beginning to rush in through the hallways. He nodded, “Of course, my Lady.”

And they were gone. 

When Elain woke up, it was because chains were being wrapped around her body and she was being hauled to her feet. 

Head spinning she didn’t know where to look. Maybe Hybern’s half scorched face, maybe Ianthe’s mother, whom she quickly realised was called Amber, when a guard referred to her as such, and her golden face. 

Ianthe was silent as she too was put in chains. 

Elain didn’t know how long it had been, but it must have been not more than a few minutes, as the bodies of soldiers were still out. And the mess of the battle was still visible. 

“Dungeons.” Hybern hissed. 

Amber grinned, “With pleasure. 

They were walked down dark tunnels that only got darker. The cold seeping in through the walls and into Elain’s skin. She kept her head low but watched Ianthe in front of her through her eyelashes. 

Eventually they were led to a large metal door, it swung open with a loud creak and inside could be seen two male guards. 

Ianthe stopped in place, as if waiting for Elain to be put in first. But then, Amber tsked, her grin widening as she said, “You’ll go in first, Ianthe.”

There was a moment of silence as the guards then forced the Priestess forward. 

In a heartbeat. 

Ianthe screamed. A raw sound that tore her throat, nose bleeding from the severity of her crying out. The red streamed down her face as her eyes too began to bleed from her never ending sobbing. 

She screamed to the roof, neck stretching up and head fallen back. The Priestess writhed against her chains, clinging to a threshold, as the guards tried to drag her into a room, into a dungeon. 

Elain was behind her. Watching with teary eyes of her own, as the robed female scabbed at threshold. Her arms strained, hands beginning to tear. 

“Please.” Elain flinched at the tearing screech in her voice. 

“This is your punishment,” Amber said to her daughter, as she smiled from behind them, “Your vows were forsaken when you betrayed me.”

Ianthe let out a gut-wrenching cry as she turned her eyes to the sky, “Mother of creation and Cauldron-”

“Do not beg.” Ianthe’s mother crooned. “The Goddess will not save you.”

Ianthe was sobbing, her cries making her voice shake and her prayer barely coherent, “I have been your loyal subject. Save me from staining. Save me please.”

“You defile us by your unworthy prayers.” Amber spat, “You will break your vows today by entering under a roof with only a male. The Mother will punish you with eternal flame and suffering. You are no Priestess.”

“Save me please, Mother, I have done nothing wrong.” Ianthe shrieked, as her fingers began to slip and the guards dragged her inside-

Elain leapt forward, her sudden, sharp burst of movement shocking the guards enough that she slipped from their grip. 

She hit the ground, and felt her arm shatter as it hit the floor. But she managed to dive into the room. Hitting a set of stairs and screaming as she almost tumbled down them, only just digging her nails into the wall and stopping herself from falling. 

Elain Archeron managed to get through the threshold just before Ianthe was thrown in. 

There was a terrifying shriek of anger from the Lady Amber outside, but Ianthe collapsed to the floor, face smeared with her own blood, tears and mucus. Her breaths were too quick and shallow, hyperventilating as she cried more on the floor. 

Elain went forward quickly. Her arm screaming with fiery pain but the adrenaline was enough for her to ignore it. 

With one arm, Elain managed to pull a sobbing Ianthe into her arms, holding her close. 

“You are okay.” Elain whispered, “You did not break your vows.”

Ianthe opened her mouth to say something, but it was cut off by gasping that was getting quicker and quicker as panic was still flooding through her. Elain could feel tears in her own eyes, but she hugged the female tighter, “Priestess.” She whispered, “Your Goddess had mercy, Priestess, she has not forsaken you.”

“My merciful Goddess.” Ianthe whispered into Elain’s skin. 

Elain ignored how that declaration felt more like it was directed at Elain herself rather than unseeable God. 

I’ll give over my soul. I sacrifice myself. I’ll gut myself on your alter. I throw my body into the sea. Just please, Mother, bring him back to me. 

Lucien recited his prayers over and over, and over, and over. Yet Tamlin’s body in his arms remained limp. Unmoving, not breathing. 

Water from the beach lapped against his knees. Causing his body to shiver from the cold. The crying of birds watching them was the only noise for a while. Lucien cried into Tamlin’s hair. One hand wrapped around him and the other going to his womb. Resting on the child they would have had, the baby they could have been blessed with. 

What would they have looked like? 

Blonde hair, blue eyes? Brown hair, green eyes? 

A little girl? A little boy? 

Lucien cried harder into Tamlin’s hair. 

The mating bond, it had snapped into place as Lucien had watched Hybern lay his hands down upon him. The fire that had leapt up in him had been nothing compared to the hatred and anger he had been engulfed with. 

But as soon as he was given it, it was ripped away. 

Sobbing, barely coherent, barely even there at all. Lucien looked at that lovely face. Blood drying on the corner of his plush lips. Skin still so divine, even if paler now. Lucien threaded his hands through Tamlin’s hair and untangled some of the knots gently. 

Lucien pressed his lips to Tamlin’s cheek, then the other, then his temple, then his nose, then the crown of his head. Like it was just another lazy morning in bed, like Tamlin would laugh as he woke. Like Tamlin would open his big green eyes and smile up at him once again. 

Please bring him back, please I can’t live without him. 

Please. 

Please, anybody. 

Lucien’s chest heaved and shuddered again as a cry was torn from his again. Rocking his love, his High lord, his Tamlin, back and forth. Like he was just sleeping, just asleep, nothing more. He would awaken. He always did. 

“Lucien.” A cracked voice said from behind him. Lucien snapped his eyes up and he saw her. 

Feyre, with her beautiful face, scattered with freckles, her brown hair stuck and clinging to her face. 

“This is your fault!” Lucien screamed with every last bit of strength in his weak body. 

Her eyes went wide and her face scrunched up as she fell to her knees crying. 

“If you had just come back, he wouldn’t be dead.” Lucien cried, his words near incoherent from his sobbing. 

But even through his cries and screams. Even through Feyre’s relentless sobs. 

Tamlin stayed still. 

Fully and utterly dead.

__________________________________________________

Whoops I ended it on an angsty note.

I swear Tamlin lives; I promise the story doesn't end here.

#acotar #pro tamlin #tamlin #tamlin's daughter #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #tamcien #feyre archeron #rhysand #feysand #azriel shadowsinger #cassian #elain archeron #ianthe acotar #religious lesbian icon ianthe #elanthe #nesta archeron #pro nesta archeron #pro elain archeron #eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #morrigan acotar #the mortal queens acotar #the king of hybern #neris #acotar headcanons #acotar au #jurian acotar #the band of exiles #the court of dreamers