#the autumn court

[elleybug]

When Eris was little and express his curiosity in the piano. Keres played for him a few tunes. When he express his interest in learning, she was happy to teach him a few songs.

As the lessons became more frequent, the high lord decided to assigned him a proper instructor of his choosing. Might as well train him in courtly music in the events of entertaining guest. Plus it wasn’t proper in Beron’s eyes for his wife’s lady companion to be teaching his son.

————-

A little idea on how there were moment for Keres to bond with the Vanserra sons but it was never given much time or chance to build it up.

Apart from being LoA’s companion , she has minor work in managing the forest house staffs and sometimes being governess to young daughters of autumn nobles.

#my art #acotar #eris vanserra #the autumn court #Keres Vanserra #acotar oc #autumn court #vanserra family

[achaoticalien]

A Court of Deceit and Decay

Chapter Three- Eris Vanserra

He hadn’t meant to walk in on her. After Rhysand had dismissed Nesta and her trial, he lounged back in his throne. Eris quickly realised he was last on the priority list and set out to take his own time before their meeting began. 

Disappearing through the winding tunnels that spiralled through the Hewn City. Eris still could not rid his eyes of silver burning into his own. Flickering flames that didn’t feel like his own were burning his skin. As his feet moved on their own accord, he looked around at the rocky walls, lit by bulbs of Faelights that were held by torches. 

There was a pressure deep within his chest, it pulsed erratically, like a flighty heartbeat. It got stronger as he walked. He kept going until he stood face to face with an old office door. 

Glancing around he saw no one. Nothing around as the pressure in his chest increased and increased, til he felt as though it would split his ribs open. Along with it, a soft noise reverberated through the door, the sound of it was muffled enough that he couldn't make out what it was. But it didn’t matter because it sent sheer terror rocketing through his spine. In an instant, he opened the door, and there she was. 

Brushing herself off, and wiping her tears away, Nesta stood with a puffy red face and shaking hands. Facing him with an impassive expression, betrayed by her anxious eyes. Worried he may do something to her. 

Assessing the fear tangible in the air. Eris did the respectful thing and bowed his head, turning his eyes from her saddened face, saying, “Lady Nesta.”

“Lord Eris.” Nesta replied tightly, he lifted his head, eyes looking down at her hands, folded neatly in front of her. She wore dirty clothes that had holes, and somehow still managed to look as regal as she was that day of the High lord’s meeting. ‘

For once in his life, Eris had not a thing to say. He had no idea what to do, what conversation he could make with a woman who had been sentenced to remain underground for the rest of her life. 

“Did you require something?” Nesta asked, clearly uncomfortable. 

“No I-...” Eris stopped himself, adjusting the lapels of his jacket, he said, “I wished to see how you were faring, since-”

“Since I was judged to remain here for the rest of my life?” Nesta supplied, silver eyes taking fire to them. Dear God, the fire caught his own again. Like a hook snagging him and dragging him in close. Eris adjusted the sleeves around his wrists, a bead of sweat collecting underneath his collar. 

“Yes… that.” Eris cautiously broached the subject at hand. 

She sneered, “If you wish for the story go ask the Court about it.”

“I don’t believe they would say much in your favour.” Eris said, stepping into the office further, never completely blocking the door, if only to put her a little at ease. 

“There isn’t anything to say in my favour.” Nesta told him, “Now you’ve seen me, you may kindly leave.”

“There must be something,” Eris insisted, “In your favour.”

“You are poorly mistaken then, Autumn Lord.” She replied, a dangerous glint in her eyes. Something meant to intimidate and push him back. She lifted her nose and looked down at him. 

But there was something behind that perfect porcelain mask. Something broken behind it, the flames that danced, writhing, singing out for his fire. 

“I am not.” He said, with a resolution that caused the glint in Nesta’s eyes to gutter. 

She tilted her head to the side, in a way that was near predatory, “How are you so sure, then?”

“In your eyes,” He barely knew what he was saying, but knew it to be true all the same, “There… eyes don’t lie, Nesta.”

He tried to grin, but only made a half smirk before it dropped as Nesta’s face lowered ever so slightly. She took a slight step back, nostrils flaring, “What do you want?”

What was he doing? What did he want?

“Feyre had seemed adamant that she would protect her sisters,” Eris said, remembering the fierceness with which Feyre kept her sisters by her side, “Yet she is pleased in sentencing you to remain down here.”

The fire dulled in Nesta’s eyes, the burning silver dimming like a light going out. She glanced down before straightening again, “Feyre can protect who she wishes.”

“Nesta-”

“What?” She snapped, seeming to be fully fed up, “What do you want from me? Can’t you see I’ve already hit my record rock bottom? Did Rhysand send you to make me feel worse about myself? What do you want from me, Vanserra?”

Skin heating up, Eris crossed his arms. Mask slipping slightly as his mouth frowned ever so slightly. 

“Rhysand knows better than to order me around.” He said. When Nesta simply levelled him with a deadpan stare, he straightened his posture, moving his arms to fold behind his back. Mother and Cauldron, in five hundred years the last time he fidgeted so was when he was learning the ropes of being a courtier. 

“So what do you want from me?” Nesta hissed, voice low and stiff. 

“I don’t want anything from you, Nesta.” Eris replied smoothly, tilting his head to the side, “Call me curious, I wish to know what led to these altercations.”

It was a game, Eris recognised the ploys in Nesta’s cunning eyes, trying to hide the bloodshot redness and blush of her cheeks. Silver eyes that counteracted deeper rooted rotting emotions that lay beneath the mask. 

Eris couldn’t say for certain why he was trying so hard, but the pressure in his chest only grew. 

Nesta watched him, eyes flicking up and down his form, with a fluid movement, she stretched out a long leg and stepped closer to him. One footstep at a time, the pressure increased. Eris was tied to the floor, his feet weights that anchored him. 

She stopped a shoe away from him. Looking into his eyes, the fire was there, burning like kindling caught by a burning ember. 

“My actions brought them embarrassment.” Nesta said simply, “They hated what I did in my own time.”

“Which… was?” Eris raised an eyebrow, eyes flicking around her face, from her smooth forehead, to her high cheekbones, sharp jawline, thin pink-tinted lips, and always returning to those flame-filled eyes that burned holes in his sockets. 

“Drinking and fucking with no regard,” Nesta answered, her expression remaining carefully neutral, but face flushing red with her own admission. 

As if she was ashamed, or had been made ashamed. 

Eris furrowed his brow. 

“That's… it?”

Surely, surely she did something else. Murdered a man in cold-blood, or kidnapped children, because there was simply no world in which one was sentenced to a life underground in a terror-filled city because they drank and fucked. 

If that were the case, Eris was clearly at risk for being locked down here too. 

“I spent their money.” Nesta looked away, towards the fire, “500 marks.”

“Thats…”

Eris must be being locked down here as well, if that was what the Court of Night considered worthy of being punished for. 

“That’s it?” Eris repeated as if his mind had broken from the absurdity. 

Nesta levelled him with a confused look, “I… I insulted Morrigan, as well as Rhysand and Amren. Argued with them and refused to join them often. I offended them?”

She said it with such a confused tone, as if trying to incriminate herself. 

Now Eris was fully convinced Rhysand had only invited him to be locked down here with Nesta. He’d have to invite Kallias next as well, considering that male spent a lot more than 500 marks on a good night.

“That’s it?” Eris attempted to chastise himself, especially for Nesta’s confused expression at his repeated remarks. 

“Yes?” Nesta blinked. 

Silence took hold, as Eris reigned his tongue back in, but his next words could not be shielded by centuries of careful courtier training, his filter seemingly broken by sheer confusion. 

“Nesta, I don’t believe there is a single Faery in the world that hasn’t spent more than that on a good outing. I don’t believe there is a single Faery in Prythian that hasn’t insulted Rhysand’s sacred Inner Circle more than once either.” He blinked, if it were anyone else he would assume they were lying and hiding some other crime to save face. But from Nesta’s mask breaking off and showing pure and utter confusion, he understood that no, Nesta was telling the truth. 

It made Eris wonder what else Rhysand had done, if he allowed his own sister-in-law to be sentenced to a life like this for something his own Court did on a regular basis. 

“I…” Nesta opened and closed her mouth. 

Seeing her for the first time had been electric, he remembered how she had stood up and spoken with the confidence of a Lord who had reigned for a thousand years. Her efforts in the war, and how she had worked with her sister to slay the King. He remembered that moment of relief when all was done, the War won. He remembered his gratitude to the Mother for giving them the Archeron sisters for it led to their salvation, as fleeting as the moment was, it was a stark memory he would never forget. 

And yet Rhysand put her down here. As if he didn’t owe Nesta his and his general’s lives. 

Eris looked behind him, at the open door, and the darkness it led out into. 

He looked back at Nesta’s burning eyes, the flames that would surely be smothered if she remained in the clutch of said darkness. A flame could only light so much before it went out. 

“Lady Nesta, I have a proposal.” Eris said. 

Nesta raised an eyebrow, “Which is?”

If Rhysand could not appreciate the gift he had been given, Eris could. 

“I don’t believe you have ever visited the Autumn Court,” Holding out a hand, he said, “Would you care for a trip?”

#a court of deceit and decay #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar au #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #nesta archeron #pro eris vanserra #pro nesta archeron #sjm #the autumn court #the inner circle #anti inner circle #neris #pro neris #acomaf #acowar #acosf

[animezinglife]

Nobody:

Absolutely nobody:

Spring Court:

Night Court:

Winter Court:

Summer Court:

Day Court:

Dawn Court:

Autumn:

(Loosely inspired by @zenkindoflove's parallels because Autumn's a hot mess).

#autumn court #the autumn court #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #beron vanserra #the lady of autumn #loa #sjm #sarah j maas #Youtube

[velidewrites]

Kidnappers: We have your father

Eris: Ok thanks

#christmas came early for eris #incorrect acotar quotes #eris vanserra #eris acotar #beron vanserra #beron acotar #the autumn court #the autumn court acotar #acotar memes #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[florencemtrash]

Flame, Shadow, Beast : Beast I

Azriel x Reader x Eris

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

Warnings: Some Inner Circle slander. Angst... like a lot of it. And a family dinner that goes horribly wrong.

Flame, Shadow, Beast: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Bryaxis left you to find Eris. You were sure of it. 

That is good, you thought, as you wiped away your tears and picked yourself off the floor. 

If Azriel was able to enter Autumn unnoticed, you’d both need to reevaluate the security around Forest House and send a strong message to Rhysand that your thin alliance did not mean Azriel was permitted to enter and leave at will. 

You swallowed your tears and collected your breath just as Eris rushed into the house like a tornado, scooping you up in his arms and searching you over with frantic eyes.

“I’m alright, Eris.” You murmured into his soft hair, breathing in his scent and finding it eased your aching heart, “He didn’t hurt me.” 

Bryaxis followed in behind the High Lord, gave you both a nod and ran out again, this time in the form of a falcon. He was going to make good on your promise. If Azriel wasn’t out of Autumn by now he was as good as dead.

“Physically, you mean.” Eris said, lowering you to the floor and pulling you close.

You sighed, leaning against him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I worry about you in all ways, Y/n. But I confess, if he was able to best you in a fight I’d be surprised. I’d bet my money on you any day.”

You laughed without humor. Your mind went to business, as it always did when you wanted to ignore your true feelings. 

“We should talk about defenses. I don’t like that he was able to enter Autumn unnoticed. Did you feel anything at all? Any disturbance?”

Eris’s jaw tightened. He knew what you were doing and wanted to take the time to talk through what you were feeling. But the look in your eyes told him now was not a good time. 

He shook his head, “Azriel’s powers have always been clouded in mystery. My father spent years trying to keep him out. Clearly he wasn’t successful.”

“Once Bryaxis is back, I’ll ask that he keep guard - at least for a short time. Spread his power out over the borders. He’s built from the same darkness that seeps out from the Night Court and might have a better chance of sensing when things are wrong.”

And so are you. You crawled out of that darkness and survived. Eris’s eyes said, but you didn’t like to dwell on that truth often. 

Years spent as Beron’s prisoner had changed you - made you more like the Shadowsinger than you cared to admit. Frustratingly it hadn’t made you any better at sensing when he was in your house and in your court.

“Good. I’ll speak to Halvor about increasing the guards posted around Forest House and the borders. We’ll keep it discreet and have Halvor winnow them.”

“And check for any missing guardsmen. He was wearing Autumn Court armor and either had to have stolen it or had it made himself.” You held out the patch of leather in your hand, discretely cut from the folds of his hood when you’d been speaking. Large enough for Myrah to scry with.

“It’s a good start.” Eris said, smoothing back the wrinkles in your forehead that came from irritation. He pressed his lips to your forehead, murmuring, “Talk to me, my love. And not about business this time.” 

Your fists clenched and unclenched, anger brewing inside of you. But not all of it was directed at the Shadowsinger.

“I just-” You huffed, “I didn’t know he was here. I didn’t sense him. I thought the next time I saw him it would be on my own terms. That I’d be more prepared.” You kicked at the ground, sending one of your abandoned knives skittering across the floor, “Instead I froze.”

“Bryaxis didn’t seem to think so. He told me he’s never seen you punch anyone that hard.” You frowned at him, but the pride and satisfaction that twinkled in his eyes melted away some of your sadness, like the first rays of spring on winter frost.

You dropped your gaze to the floor, “He said he and Rhysand were the only ones to know about the deal.” Flames flared to life in his eyes, like someone had shone a light through amber stones. “He asked to visit with the others. In Autumn.” 

Eris nodded slowly, carefully. He didn’t like this, didn’t like this at all. 

“Is that what you want? To see them again?”

You missed some of them more than others. You missed Cassian’s boyish humor, Nesta’s blunt honesty, Feyre’s love for all things creative, and the bright light that Mor seemed to carry around with her as easily as a torch. You even missed Amren, who’d come to tolerate you well enough in the few years you’d spent with the Inner Circle. 

But Rhysand and Azriel… You would have missed them the most if not for what they’d done. Rhysand who you’d once seen as a brother, and Azriel, who you could have fallen in love with so easily if he hadn’t constantly pined over other females. Perhaps you had fallen in love with him at one point. Maybe that’s why it hurt so badly to see him again.

“I…I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to make the decision now.” Eris said, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers, “But I would like to ask you one thing.”

“Since when do you ever ask for things?” You said, trying to lighten up your spirits by toying with your lover.

He shook his head, “I am a very greedy male. I ask for many things from you - your time, your love, your attention.” 

“And what would you like to ask for now?” 

Eris hesitated.

“For you to move to the Forest House. Today. I’ll send for the rest of your things in the morning.” 

“Today?”

“Today.” You looked around the house. It had steadily been emptying the last two months, coming with you to the Forest House in bits and pieces as your once nonexistent visits to Court became more and more regular. It was all part of the plan to introduce you to Court life and prepare you for the role you’d one day take at Eris’s side.

“I thought you wanted to take time. Prepare things better-”

“I know. I know that was the plan. But I’d feel infinitely better with you under the roof of Forest House with me… with me.”

“Azriel doesn’t know about us yet. The other courts don’t know.” You said. 

Eris had always been so careful, so cautious concerning you, paying the townspeople for their silence, spreading rumors of visiting pleasure houses and flirting with the bolder females in court to disguise the one person who warmed his bed. You didn’t want him to feel rushed.

“I know.” Eris steeled himself. The scars on his back flexed uncomfortably, pulling and stretching at his flesh with memories of the past, “I don’t want to be afraid of that anymore.” He said, “I’ve lived in fear my whole life, unable to protect the ones I love. You know this. I can do it now, with you standing next to me.”

“I just… I want to make sure you’re not doing this against your will because of what happened today.” You said it sincerely. Eris was all about plans and safety and heavily disliked straying from them.

Eris froze and then laughed, a full-bodied laugh that shook his sturdy frame and surprised you.

“What did I say?” You asked. When he didn’t answer, continuing to laugh, you slapped his shoulder, “What did I say?! Tell me!”

“Oh, my love.” He sighed, stealing a kiss, “I’m not asking you to come home with me because of the meddlings of another court. I’m asking you because I want you there.” 

You blushed furiously, color flooding into your cheeks.

“Don’t look so surprised.” He said.

“I’m not surprised! We’ve talked about this.”

“We have! We’ve talked about this in great detail.” You glanced around the room. It had stopped feeling like home some time ago. Home was where Eris was.

“Today?”

“Yes.”

“As in right now.” 

“Well I would give you time to pack whatever you think you’ll need for the next day. I’m not a brute.” 

It was your turn to laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely on the lips. He tasted like cinnamon and cloves. 

You packed a small bag of your most treasured belongings - few in number as most had already been brought to the Forest House - and then you were off. Bryaxis would find you wherever you were and you would be able to sense if anything was wrong with him. Even now you felt his power near the borders of Autumn where he prowled about on his mission. But Azriel was long gone from the Autumn Court.

The Forest House was bustling with energy when you arrived, fae of all shapes and sizes bowing to you and Eris, carrying baskets of bread, honeysuckle, walnuts, and pumpkins against their hips to bring to the kitchens. 

Myrah, Halvor, and Aurelia - The Lady of Autumn - were there to greet you.

Myrah bowed deeper than the rest, grinning from ear to ear as she took your belongings and ran them to your room. She had served Lady Aurelia dutifully as a blademaiden for over fifty years, and now she would serve you with just as much fervor.

“My Lady.” You said, bowing your head. 

Aurelia’s scarlet hair and amber eyes were a twin to Eris’s and she smiled at you with a light that had never fully dimmed during her marriage to Beron. Lucien might have been her favored son - the one born out of love and passion - but Eris was the most like her in appearance and she thanked the Mother for that every day.

“I’ll have none of that.” Aurelia said, grasping you by the arm and forcing you to stand upright. She ran her thumbs over your cheeks before dipping her head towards her son and leading you away for a proper meal and rest.

So it went for the next few months. You dove into your court duties during the day, attending meetings with Eris and Aurelia, court dinners, and pouring over reports by the warm light of the fires that filled every room in the Forest House. Your evenings were dedicated to your research in the libraries with Bryaxis curled up comfortably in your lap. And your nights were filled with Eris, whispered words under satin covers, hands resting comfortably against your back and thighs, silken strands of red hair between your fingers.

You ignored the letters that arrived on your desk from the Night Court for as long as you could. Nesta had even made her way through Winter to visit you in person, only to be turned away at the border personally by Myrah. 

That had been the call for you to finally invite them to dinner at the Autumn Court.

The blademaiden, soft and swift as wind and more resilient than iron, brushed through your hair carefully, weaving thin leaves of gold into the braids until your hair gleamed when it caught the light.

Bryaxis was partial to her, puffing his chest out from his seat on the vanity until Myrah stopped her work to give him a quick kiss on his little black head.

“I think you might be his favorite person.” You quipped, smiling at her through the mirror as Bryaxis continued to sit ramrod straight, waiting for another display of affection. Myrah obliged, scratching him behind his ears as he closed his eyes and rumbled in satisfaction. 

“Pffft. Everyone knows he’d go mad if you so much as chipped a tooth.”

“Teeth are important! It’s less impressive when you snarl at enemies with a gap in your teeth.” 

Myrah snorted, finishing your hair and wrapping her arms carefully around you. Her hair was similarly arranged with silver instead of gold to better match her gray-blonde hair and steel gray eyes. She looked like the thunderclouds that rolled over the hills before rain. 

You patted her arm before moving over to the full length mirror, carved from a single slab of wood to look like birds in flight. Your breath caught in your throat. The wine-red dress hung from your frame as light as air, threaded with black and gold around the careful beadwork so that you rustled with light and energy. You looked otherworldly.

Myrah brought her hands to her lips, glowing with pride and happiness. For years she’d seen Lady Aurelia wilt and endure. It was good to know you would not suffer the same fate. She’d sooner die than let anything happen to you. Even Bryaxis was impressed with your appearance, shifting between shadow and flesh as he regarded you with a molten eye.

A knock on the door drew your eyes away from your reflection. Aurelia stepped inside with an ornate wooden box in her slender hands, looking like a living flame and crossing the room on light and even steps.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” She asked gently, putting the box down and taking your hands in hers. Myrah bowed and took her leave, taking up her position outside the door. The folds of her skirt concealed a gleaming silver sword and no shortage of other weapons. 

Bryaxis also followed, rubbing against Aurelia’s ankle with a gentle purr as went.

You took a deep breath after the door shut.

“Nervous.” You said honestly, “More than I would like to be.”

“That’s understandable.” Aurelia said, surveying the curve of your dress, your neck, and ears and nodding. “You look powerful. Myrah did well. Not that you needed the help.” She whispered the last few words like a secret, as if concerned the female outside would overhear and find offense. 

You smiled.

“But, I think you’re missing a few elements.” 

You blinked, smoothing your skirts and looking around. You hadn’t thought you were missing anything.

Aurelia opened the box, compartments springing outward like the unfurling of alocasia leaves. Rows upon rows of jewelry, some delicate and some that weighed as heavy as stones, were laid out neatly. 

You blushed furiously.

“Eris didn’t-I mean this is too much”

Aurelia tipped her head back in laughter, hair swaying across her graceful back like the flickering of candlelight against a window. 

“Now that you are here I am sure Eris will spare no expense. But these are from me.” 

With patience and a careful hand she helped you pick out a thin pair of bracelets that snaked up your arm like the veins of a riverbed, golden cuffs that accentuated the length of your ears, and finally a dainty necklace of amber and gold.

“This one looks different from the others.” You said, tracing the thin chain against your chest, “It’s beautiful.” 

Aurelia smiled, a quiet sadness in her eyes. “It wasn't made in Autumn.”

“Where was it-” You paused. A knowing look passed between you two. “I understand.”

The clock chimed. A gentle ring that made your heart beat faster. It was time. The Night Court would have arrived already - if they decided to be punctual that was. 

“I suppose it’s time.” You said, offering your arm to the Lady of Autumn. 

“One more thing.” She said, grasping your shoulders so you stood face to face. The crown glittered in her hair - a thin band of gold from which grew garlands of paper thin flowers and maple leaves interwoven with redwood. It was said to have been made by one of Autumn’s Old Gods, a powerful relic that spoke of traditions past that the people still honored.

It rested on your head now, laid there by Aurelia’s slender hands.

“Perfect.” She said with a smile, tilting your head up with two fingers beneath your chin.

“I can’t-I can’t wear this.” 

“You can, and you will. Your Lady commands it.” She took your hand in hers, squeezing it with all the love of a mother, and led you out the door.

Myrah was vibrating with excitement and kept stealing glances as the crown on your head. Bryaxis curled up around her shoulders as she trailed after you and the Lady of Autumn. 

Eris and Halvor were already waiting by the steps to the great hall - Halvor in his general attire, and Eris looking like the heart of Autumn in a resplendent suit of bronze, gold, and scarlet. He stilled when you approached, eyes darting to the crown in your hair and softening. His mother only nodded, giving you both her silent blessing.

“You look beautiful.” He murmured as you took his arm.

“As do you.” 

Halvor coughed and Myrah rolled her eyes.

“You also look wonderful, Halvor.” You said, shaking your head with laughter.

He bowed deeply, “Thank you, My Lady.” 

You blushed. With the Lady of Autumn’s crown resting in your hair and the unofficial title rolling off Halvor’s tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world, it all felt like too much. 

Eris squeezed your hand in reassurance, flashing you one last smile before he would have to let the mask of the High Lord slide over his face. 

“Ready?”

You nodded. “Ready.” 

You descended the steps, Aurelia and Myrah (and Bryaxis) to your right and Halvor to Eris’s left. They were the beginnings of a proper court. An Inner Circle of their own. Eris swallowed the emotion, the gratefulness for everyone who stood with him, for another time. 

Still, he was looking at you when you all made your appearance and the Night Court’s conversations died in the air. 

Nesta, Cassian, Mor, Feyre, and Azriel all stood to one side of the table. Cut from the trunk of an ancient elder tree, the rings spoke of the passage of two thousand years. You felt insignificant in the face of all of that history, gripping Eris’s arm for reassurance as you led the way down the last flight of stairs. 

“Welcome to Autumn Court.” Eris said, voice cold and emotionless as he swept his arm out to the side and dipped his head ever so slightly. Everyone in the room followed suit… everyone except you. You weren’t going to waste a single moment on pleasantries when you could drink in the sight of your old family… if they had ever even been your family.

Nesta noticed, never taking her eyes off of you as she searched you head to toe, lingering on the glittering crown on your head with barely concealed surprise. 

The sight of it was a dagger through Azriel’s heart, twisting and turning without mercy as Eris placed his hand at the small of your back. Protective, cautious, and ready to winnow you away at the first sign of trouble. 

It should have been him standing beside you. 

Rhysand was conspicuously absent as you’d expected. There was no way he’d drag the core members of the Inner Circle to Autumn and leave Velaris vulnerable. But perhaps it was better this way.

“Y/n.” Nesta said, breaking the awkward silence that followed. Her voice came out strangled with grief.

You blinked in surprise at the emotion in her voice. There was a hollowness beneath her eyes where dark shadows gathered, thinly covered with makeup to make them less noticeable. 

Your teeth ground together to hide the trembling in your lips. 

Nesta. Beautiful, sharp, and terrifying Nesta. Nesta who you’d dragged home from bars, stumbling and wasted. Nesta who you’d screamed at and cried with. Nesta who would never, ever let anything happen to the ones she cared about. 

“Nesta.” You said carefully. You looked at Eris and he gave you an almost imperceptible nod. 

Go on. This is for you. His eyes said. 

You let go of his arm, stepping forward like a boat slipped off its mooring. 

“Cass,” He smiled at you, warmth flooding his chest when you still used his nickname. 

“Feyre,” Her eyes glittered with starlight.

“Mor,” She let out a shaky breath.

You steeled yourself for the last, familiar face.

“Azriel.” He stood there, still as stone while his heart raged inside him.

“It’s… it’s good to see you all again.” The words flowed out of your mouth more easily than you’d expected and you found there was a great deal of truth to your words. 

The last you’d heard, Feyre was suspected to have given birth to another child - a girl this time. The gentle roundness of her figure and glow of her smile confirmed it. And Nesta and Cassian had married, twin rings of silver flashing on their fingers. Marriage was insignificant in the face of the bond they shared, but you were happy for them nevertheless. And Mor… Mor was as bold as ever, daring to race across the room and gather you up in her arms in a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” She gasped, burying her face into your hair and breathing in your familiar scent. 

You stiffened in her arms.

Halvor’s arm shot out in front of Myrah, her hand hidden in the gathers of her skirt and resting on the knife strapped to her thigh. She was a coiled spring, ready to launch herself at anyone who dared touch you. It wasn’t until you slowly relaxed and returned Mor’s embrace that Myrah allowed herself to loosen, flashing a scowl in Halvor’s direction. He only smirked and winked at her.

“We didn’t know. Please believe me. Please come home.” Mor whispered the words for you and you alone. 

Come home.

You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply before peeling the female off of you. You didn’t try to ignore the pain or betrayal that flashed in her eyes when you stepped away and floated back to Eris’s side. 

“Please, sit.” You tapped Eris’s arm and with a snap of his fingers, mountains of food appeared on the table in front of you. Any other day your mouth would be watering at the sight, but today your stomach only clenched with nerves as you and Eris took your seats at the head of the table.

Feyre and Mor sat across from you at the other end, Azriel to their right and seated next to Aurelia and Myrah, and Nesta and Cassian to their left. The Lord of Bloodshed scowled at Halvor, who only smirked and dropped into the seat beside him. 

If anyone wanted to attack their High Lord and Lady, they’d have to tear through Halvor and Myrah to do it.

Aurelia was a blessing as always, pushing the conversation through the usual, pleasant motions even when tension hung thick in the air. 

How do you do it? You wondered, as she managed to draw a quiet laugh from Feyre’s lips. 

The High Lady of the Night Court wore a deep, wine red dress so dark it was nearly black. Only the warm light flickering from the three fireplaces and the faelight chandeliers dangling overhead hinted at the color of the fabric. Somehow you knew it was Feyre’s way of showing her support for you. 

She was shocked, as was everyone, when you’d appeared at the steps looking every bit like a High Lady beside Eris. And the love in his gaze hadn’t been lost on her. He looked at you the same way Rhys looked at her.

“How long have you been living here?” Feyre finally asked gently. 

You’d hardly touched the roasted quail and walnuts in front of you, carefully following the conversation and wondering who would be the first to ask you the questions they were all dying to know the answers to. You weren’t making things easy for them, sitting on your small throne of cedar and gold that was the twin to Eris’s seat and looking as impassible and aloof as a bronze sculpture.

Everyone’s eyes focused on you. Eris shifted ever so slightly in his seat, angling his body towards you and leaning on his hand with a carefully crafted expression of boredom on his beautiful face. 

“Eight years. Almost nine now.” You said, swallowing a bite of food with difficulty. The Inner Circle froze, the sounds of singing cutlery falling silent.

“Eight years?” Cassian said, his face paleing. 

Nesta’s grip on her fork and knife tightened, knuckles turning white as the silverware struggled not to bend. 

“We didn’t hear you were alive until four months ago. If we’d known…” Feyre’s voice faltered.

“You would have visited sooner? Don’t bother yourself with that. I didn’t want you to know. I wanted to be left alone.” 

Azriel seemed to shrink in his seat when you said that. After all, he’d helped set this all into motion. 

“So what changed?” Mor asked, almost accusingly. It was the first time she’d spoken since embracing you and the sting of your rejection hadn’t dissipated over dinner. “You’ve moved into the Forest House. Been seen at court. With him. If you want to be left alone, to stay hidden, you’re doing a terrible job of it.”

Before Eris could spit back a reply, Halvor growled threateningly, banging the table with his fist. “I’d watch my tone if I were you.” He said as smoke rose from between his fingers. 

If it was any other court they were dining with, Eris would have warned Halvor to control his temper. As it was, he only gave a minor nod of approval to his brother. There were many things they disagreed on, but one thing was certain - they’d both protect you to their last breath.

“You’re being awfully silent, Eris.” Mor spit out, completely ignoring Halvor and Eris’s rightful title. 

“Mor.” Feyre hissed in warning. 

Your eyes turned dark.

Eris swirled the wine in his goblet, taking a careful sip and making a point of looking languid and unimpressed. 

“I don’t have anything to say.” He paused, “Actually, that’s a lie. I have much I would like to say to you. Choice words that your precious Inner Circle wouldn’t appreciate hearing.” He looked at you, eyes softening as he downed the rest of his wine, “But tonight’s not about me.” 

“Y/n.” Mor said, half in anger and half in desperation, “Stop this and come home. You don’t belong here.” 

“And why should you have a say in where she belongs?” Myrah said. Her normally soft and lilting voice was low and deadly, “You were the ones who abandoned her in our court to die. Does the story sound familiar to you, Morrigan?” 

“Mor,” Cassian and Feyre both reached for her hands, but she ripped out of their hold, standing up with an ugly groan of her chair as it was sent toppling backwards. 

Her chest heaved with fury, fingers twitching for a weapon that wasn’t there. 

Myrah matched her anger, knife sliding into her hand with ease as she pointed it at the blond-haired female across the table, “Who’s the villain now? Or will you do what you’ve always done and blame it on my High Lord?”

The tension in the room finally snapped.

Mor screamed in fury, launching herself across the table. Before Myrah could land the first blow - a wild glee in her eyes - Azriel leapt up from his seat. He angled himself in between the two females, wrapping his arms around Mor’s waist and pulling her away as she continued to fight back and scream bloody murder. 

Feyre’s jaw clenched, slamming against Mor’s mental shields. Her commands to stop fell on deaf ears.

“You bitch! I’m going to kill you!” 

Myrah beckoned her forward, daring Mor to try. 

At some point in the chaos of it all, Bryaxis had changed form, taking on the shape of a bear and climbing onto the table beside Halvor. Cassian pushed Nesta behind him, his already pale face blanching further as he recognized the monster that bared its teeth at him and his mate. 

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” You slammed your hands against the table and stood up, your powers exploding outward in a rush of darkness and dampening the powers of everyone in the room. Everyone except Eris.

He stood up slowly and moved to stand behind you, one hand resting on your waist. His touch grounded you.

He’d felt your power before. He understood it. And he would not stand in the way of it. He would not stand in the way of you. 

And he would not let you stand alone.

Mor stilled in Azriel’s arms, gasping as the suffocating nature of your power lifted off of her. Everyone slowly recoiled back into their seats. 

Bryaxis returned to your side, inky eyes surveying the scene like a hawk.

“I invited you here so you would know that I am safe and well and happy. Not so you could insult and threaten my family. If you want to continue like this, you may as well save us the trouble and leave.” 

Mor took in a shaky breath, face hidden behind her golden blond curls, and went silent. 

“You should have told us.” There was no saving this evening, and Nesta finally took the opportunity to say her piece. “You should have told us you were alive. We would never have left you here alone. We would have brought you home.” 

“Don’t you dare, Nesta.” You seethed, “Don’t you dare make me out to be some traitor. I never told Beron anything. No matter what he did to me. No matter what he threatened to do. I never betrayed you.” 

Nesta’s eyes were two thin chips of ice and the knife she’d kept in her hand snapped in two, clattering to the floor. But the cold anger she harbored in her heart was not aimed at you. 

“We didn’t know.” She said, “I nearly killed Azriel and Rhysand when I found out what they’d done.” 

Azriel flexed his shoulders, feeling the memory of Nesta’s blade stabbing through the scar there. She’d aimed for his heart. It was only because Cassian intervened that he’d been spared. Now he wished her aim had been true, maybe then he would have been spared the look of heartbreak on your face now. 

“What kind of an excuse is that?! If Beron had asked for anyone else in the Inner Circle none of you would have dared to even entertain the idea of a trade to get Elain back.”

“There was no other choice.” Mor said weakly, trying her best to defend Azriel as he had always defended her. 

The mighty Shadowsinger looked like death next to her. Still and empty.

He’d never been quite the same after handing you off to Beron. When Elain had been returned to their family safe and sound and curled up in his arms, it wasn’t the joyous reunion they’d been hoping for. 

Azriel had left a piece of himself behind with you, something he’d never managed to get back.

“THERE’S ALWAYS ANOTHER CHOICE!” 

The rage and heartbreak stirred within you. Never gone. Never forgotten. Only contained. 

“You would have gone to the ends of the earth to protect your own. You would have burned the world to the ground rather than agree to a trade of lives.” 

Your eyes narrowed in on the High Lady, someone you’d once respected and would have died for.

“Feyre. What would you have done? Hmmm? What would you have done if Beron asked for Mor, or Cassian, or gods forbid Nyx in return for Elain?”

Feyre’s confidence faltered, the mask of the High Lady cracking and splintering under your forceful gaze.

“What would you have done?”

“I… I would have-” Her voice broke, “I would have given myself or died trying to find another way. I never… I never would have done what we did to you.” 

“I would have done it.” You whispered. “If that’s what you’d asked of me. If that’s what needed to be done, I would have gone to Beron willingly to help you.” 

Eris closed his eyes at the admission. It burned him to see you like this. Pieces of his heart cracking along with yours. He wanted nothing more than to winnow you away from this place. From these people.

“It was my fault.” Azriel said, stepping into your line of sight and hiding his High Lady behind him. His hazel eyes bore into yours, begging you to listen to him. “I was the one who told Rhys to agree to the trade. I was the one who convinced him not to tell anyone until it was too late. If you are to blame or hate anyone, blame me. Hate me.” 

Your lips trembled, eyes burning with unshed tears as you took in shaky gulps of air. You should have hated him. You should have wanted to bury him beneath the force of your power, steal away his breath, and kill him where he stood. And with the way he looked at you, propped up by longing and shame and hope, you knew he would let you. 

If you pulled out a sword, he’d kneel down and bend his neck forward. If you tackled him to the floor and beat him bloody, he’d smile to have you so close to him again.

It was a terrible, unfortunate thing that the fiercest kinds of hate existed only a hair’s width away from the fiercest kinds of love. Because the truth was you didn’t hate him. No matter how much you’d convinced yourself that you hated him, it wasn’t true. You loved him. And that was a far, far worse thing.

The bond snapped into place for you so suddenly, so much like a blow to your chest that you stumbled back, crashing into Eris’s solid form as he wrapped his arms around you. It burned in the deepest parts of your soul, filling you with a warmth and light that should have comforted you but instead only made you cower.

“No.” You gasped, curling into Eris’s chest and ignoring the looks of horror from everyone in the room. 

Azriel was kneeling on the floor, one scarred hand clutching his chest as he felt the fullness of the bond rear its mighty head. 

It was everything that he had ever wanted. He could feel you on the other side of the bond as naturally as he felt his own being and you were bright and warm and lovely and fierce. You were more overwhelming than a winter storm. More devastating than an earthquake.

He thought he was going mad. He wanted to kill Eris for holding you like that - for holding his mate. But… you looked so scared. Scared of him. 

“No. No. No no no no no no.” You repeated over and over again, burying your face into Eris’s shoulder as Aurelia flew to your side, murmuring words into your ear that you couldn’t register.

“Y/n.” Azriel’s shadows were flying around him now, reaching out to you and desperately sliding up your arms and legs. Through the bond you felt it all - his shame, his self-hatred, his longing... His love.

Your power shot out in a wall around you at the same time that your mental shield slammed closed on the bond. His shadows beat back against your power and against the barrier you’d placed around your mind. You could still feel him there at the edges, begging to be let in. 

 The table shook and groaned, bottles of wine tipping over and crashing into waves of red over the floor as Cassian, Nesta, Mor, and Feyre slid backwards. 

Azriel stood his ground as best he could, half-crawling towards you against the whirlwind of your power. You faintly heard him roar your name over the sounds of the room tipping and turning. 

You were afraid to look at Eris. The one who’d given you a home. The one who’d promised you the world by his side. The one you loved and the one who loved you more than anything. 

Eris held your clinging form to him, fire exploding from around him and wrapping around his family members in a protective circle as Feyre, Cassian, and the rest called out to you, begging you to listen to them.

“Get out.” He roared. You trembled in his arms, clutching him tighter, but his words were not for you. “Get out of my house. Get out of my court or I swear to the Mother I will burn you where you stand.” 

His words, dangerous and unyielding, echoed throughout the room. 

Cassian pulled Nesta to his chest. 

“Nes, we need to go. Nes… She doesn’t want us here.” 

Every part of her being screamed at her not to leave you again, but Cassian was right. You didn’t want them here anymore. So after one last look at you, she took her husband’s hand and disappeared without a trace. 

Tears streamed down Mor’s face as she and Feyre shook Azriel, murmuring to him to get up. He stared, slack jawed and unrecognizable as he looked at you with more feeling in his expression than anyone had thought him capable of, silently begging at you to look at him, just once.

Feyre shook her head at Mor, grabbed him by the shoulders, and winnowed them all away. 

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

This was a really tough chapter for me to write because I wanted to get the nuances of all the characters correct and give everyone their own 'moment' during the dinner scene.

I want to make clear that I really like Nesta and Mor as characters and just because I write them be more 'hostile' towards Reader and just because Myrah attacks Mor and invalidates her past trauma does not mean I dislike them or have any hate for them.

*(And by 'Myrah' I mean me because... you know... I wrote the damn thing)

They're both complicated characters and I don't always condone the actions of the characters/versions of characters I write. It's just part of the fanfiction writing process that sometimes characters you have a lot of love and respect for have to become the antagonist in another person's storyline.

I just wanted to leave a note about that because I think Nesta and Mor get a lot of unfair hate from readers and I don't agree with that.

Thanks for reading and thanks for listening to my Ted Talk.

Love,

Florence B.

P.S. I know this chapter is pretty long (I think it's 6,000+ words) but I didn't want to disrupt the momentum by breaking up the chapter. Forgive me. Or don't.

Taglist: @nightless @mmb-09 @thesnugglingduck @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @logankemaek @the-sweet-psycho @a-frog-with-a-laptop @flameandshadowx @applerubyy @esposadomd @imma-too-many-fandoms @bubybubsters @kalulakunundrum @chasing-autumns-chill

#eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar #acotar fanfiction #the autumn court #high lord eris #the inner circle #eris x reader angst #azriel x reader angst #azriel shadowsinger #eris vanserra #azriel angst #eris angst #inner circle slander #feyre archeron #cassian acotar #morrigan #nesta archeron #eris x reader x azriel #azriel x reader x eris

[ennawrite]

this is so eris vanserra coded

#pro eris vanserra #eris vanserra #acotar #the vanserra brothers #the autumn court #autumn court males #pro lucien vanserra #acosf #acowar #acotar memes

[bloomingdarkgarden]

L U C I E N V A N S E R R A | Seventh Son of Autumn 🍂

For @lucienweekofficial

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien #the autumn court #high lord of our loins #yes lucien yes we would #acotar

[nestaapologist]

Venus, planet of love was destroyed by global warming

Did its people want too much, too? Did its people want too much?

And I don't want your pity I just want somebody near me

Guess I'm a coward I just want to feel alright

Eris Vanserra/Nobody by Mitski

#sjm please end all the Vanserras suffering and give it to Beron #I need to know more about him now #acotar #eris vanserra #Eris Vanserra aesthetic #autumn court aesthetic #the autumn court #acotar moodboard

[ofduskanddreams]

𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 😴

Art for @erisweek2023 day 2: High Lord by the very talented @moonyandtoasts <3

commissioned by @separatist-apologist, @octobers-veryown, @moonpatroclus, @areyoudreaminof, @labellefleur-sauvage, @stickyelectrons, and @ofduskanddreams

This character belongs to Sarah J Maas. NO REPOSTS, REBLOGS WELCOME :)

#erisweek2023 #eris vanserra fanart #high lord eris #eris vanserra #high lord of the Autumn court #eris acosf #eris acotar #pro eris vanserra #the autumn court #acotar fanart

[teddyhoneybear]

🍂𝓛𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓶𝓷 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓽🍁

“For giving her your name in place of my son's life,” she said, her voice as sweet as sun-warmed apples. “My debt is paid.”

For a long time I wanted to make a collage with the lovely Lady of the Autumn Court. I find her story incredibly sad, a sweet but strong character, one who probably feels like a prisoner in her own home, unable to see her favorite son.

*No backgrounds or illustrations used in this collage are mine*

~click here for more~

#I felt quite emotional making this #i love her #acotar #lucien vanserra #acotar series #pro lucien vanserra #lady of autumn #lady of the autumn court #the autumn court #high lord beron #beron vanserra #loa #eris vanserra #vanserra family #vanserra brothers #acotar collage

[harperbrynne]

Eris was reading a book by the roaring fire, an ankle crossed over a knee, as if his presence here was nothing unusual. (ACOSF, Pg744)

#dunno if this makes sense but i just love this moment #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris acosf #high lord eris #future high lord #autumn court heir #autumn court #the autumn court

[elleybug]

Autumn’s Blood duel 🩸🍁🗡️

————————————

Been thinking a lot about the Autumn court’s blood duel. I remember it being rare to call for one . I want it brutal, scary, ritualistic and very unique to the court.

Red painting the duel chamber. Vines and leaves red from the blood spilled. Sprouting red flowers. Beautiful and terrifying.

#my art #acowar #acotar #eris vanserra #acosf #the autumn court #autumn court blood duel #Vanserra brothers

[daliasmay]

Eris' dogs are the treasure of the Autumn Court.

I've read some works on the AO3 with Eris, where he gives one of his ghost hound puppies to Nyx as a birthday present. It is very-very cute and all that, but it is so...not in his character?

I mean Eris isn't that kind and warmheart strange man who could give one of the most rare dogs, the treasure of his Court to someone from Rhysand's family...

Or to someone else who IS NOT HIS family, that what I want to say. I even don't believe that one of his brothers has his own ghost hound lol.

The same with Helion and his pegasi, which population Amarantha almost erased. His dogs are the same treasure as Helion's wing horses not only for the entire Court, but also personally for him I think.

BUT! I'm sitting on the two chairs and don't think so in the case with Lucien and his future family!🙈

I love the headcanon where Eris, in the name of his reunion with Lucien, gives him one or two of his newborn puppies on the Solstice in very elegant basket, after many years of their conflict and long distance in relationships. Without any words, silently, he holds out one of his most favorite creatures to Lucien, to his little brother🥹

And later, he will give the one as a present to his his first nephew on his twelfth birthday. He knows that his brother probably won't stop at one child, and Eris knows and feels how stressful life could really be for older siblings in any family. Every elder child needs a friend like this, so his nephew won't be alone, he always will be with the most loyal friend ever, who will always be with him and will his best companion in the life wherever he goes.

Of course, Eris is a cunning uncle, he's also earning himself love points in the family unspoken competition between two grandparents, other uncles and aunties. And he will win it and take the prize👑🧡

I just love this dog lover from character debut and I can't wait to see him more in the future books. I hope that SJM won't kill him, because Eris' mission is to rebuild the Autumn Court, and in particular to eradicate its wild tradition of fratricide.

#eris vanserra #eris acotar #lucien vanserra #pro eris vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #vanserra brothers #the autumn court #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acosf #a court of wings and ruin #acowar #sjm #helion #helion acotar #helion spell cleaver #day court #my thoughts

[animezinglife]

Imagine Elain absolutely annihilating Eris at whatever kind of card game is most popular in Autumn—one he’s excellent at himself—and him being both impressed and increasingly frustrated by it.

Lucien is sitting with them trying not to burst out laughing.

#elucien scenario #elain archeron #eris vanserra #lucien vanserra #acotar #acotar headcanon #a court of thorns and roses #autumn court #the autumn court #vanserra brothers #sjm #sarah j maas #elucien headcanon

[velidewrites]

Eris: People say I have a unique way of lighting up a room

Lucien: It’s called “arson” and those people are witnesses

#incorrect acotar quotes #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #the autumn court #the autumn court acotar #acotar memes #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[dawneternal]

The Benevolent | Eris x Healer OC | Three

☁︎ notes: sorry it took so long to get this one out 💛

Clementia really is the goddess of mercy and healing but I made up the part about the feathers. There will be more half real/half made up references to mythology so buckle in lol also Eris is kind of Cardan-coded in this chapter

☁︎ warnings: talk of injuries, talk of Beron's abuse, drunk characters

☁︎ word count: 1.9k

☁︎ AO3 Link / Masterlist

☁︎ tags: @cauldronblssd @mybestfriendmademe @teddyhoneybear @tele86 @imma-too-many-fandoms @allyjoe755 @milswrites @shadowdaddies @zenkindoflove

The ring summoned Aya again nearly a week later, just as she had finally made it back to her dorm room in the Healer’s wing. Lessons had run late, after which she had been called to a family dinner by Thesan. Her feet were sore and the pair of clean pajamas waiting on her bed called to her. Her heart leapt into her throat at the thought of what sort of injuries had prompted that ring to glow, regret sinking its claws deeper into her gut. Another long night of keeping Eris’s soul tethered to his being?

She heaved a deep sigh, shouldered her bag once more, and winnowed away from her cozy room.

The designated winnow spot was in Edana’s private courtyard, surrounded on all four sides by her rooms. The Lady had carved a spot out of the wards - or had bribed someone to do it. Edana or one of her two trusted guards were to wait for Aya in the courtyard. The written copy of the bargain details instructed that if anyone else were to ever greet her, she was to winnow back to the Dawn Court without speaking to them.

All very calming, naturally.

Tonight, one of Edana’s guards met Aya in the courtyard, which she considered a good sign. The guard did not say anything, only nodded in greeting before turning on his heel. Aya shivered in the Autumn chill and trailed after him. No one had told Aya the guards’ names yet, and she was too shy to ask. They were a little intimidating, stone-faced and armed to the teeth. Obviously, they cared about Edana's safety a great deal, and she had not stopped to wonder what they thought of the Lady hiring a strange healer and adding her piece to this hidden game board.

The dark-haired man led her through Edana’s sitting room to the stone passageways. She followed him through the dim, winding halls, finding them to be as deathly silent as the first night. She was beginning to wonder if the whole house had a curfew, or if they had all simply adopted this code of silence as a means of survival. Everything had been tainted such a suspicious color after that first night.

His feet made no sound against the stone floor, even in those heavy, clunky-soled boots. Aya followed suit, keeping her steps light, though her satin slippers would not have made much noise anyways.

When she crossed through the wards into Eris’s rooms, a wall of commotion wrapped itself around her, such a contrast from the silent hall that it made her jump. Eris was cursing and arguing with his mother, the second guard attempting to aid her in holding him down. Aya’s widened eyes flicked to the couch by the hearth where a bruised and bleeding man lay unconscious. Or sleeping. He was nearly a copy of Eris - redheaded and tall, with broader shoulders and bulky muscles.

“They got drunk and had a fight,” Edana sighed as Aya made her way to the big bed.

“Bastard had it coming,” Eris spat loudly, trying again to free his arm from his mother’s grasp."

“Stay still,” Edana snapped, “You were stabbed, for Mother’s sake.”

Aya gasped at that, and Eris turned his head toward the sound. He had not even noticed her come in, too focused on earning his freedom. When his gaze landed on the healer he let out a cry of delight and held a bloody hand toward her without even so much as wincing.

“All is well,” Eris pronounced, “Clementia has arrived.”

“Hush,” Edana hissed, “Or your father will hear you.”

Aya’s skin felt hot, her stomach dropping in fear of the knowledge that the High Lord was at home tonight. She chewed her lip and set her satchel on the edge of the bed. Eris was still as a statue now, watching her with interest.

“Clementia is an angel of mercy,” Edana said to Aya, rolling her eyes as other guard chuckled. “He likes to read mythology.”

Aya’s cheeks burned and she looked down at the heir, his amber eyes fixed on her. She shook her head and grabbed a wet rag from the side table. She was familiar with Clementia’s legend but she had not made the connection of who Eris thought she was.

“Did you receive my prayer of thanks?” Eris asked, a hand clutched to his chest like he must brace himself in her presence. He still did not wince as she pulled up his shirt and began to clean his injury. It was shallow for a stab wound, but it certainly would not heal well if he started thrashing around again. She could humor him if it meant he stayed calm.

The second guard, blond and bearded, started to laugh at Eris’s smitten gaze, but Edana shot him a look that shut him up. The Lady turned her attention to her other son, out cold on the couch.

“Yes,” Aya said to Eris, gently moving away the hand that attempted to cover his wound. His bloody fingers wrapped around hers and held on. It was likely he was so drunk that he was not feeling the full effect of his injury. “It was lovely. Please stay still, Eris.”

“Yes, angel,” Eris breathed.

Aya kept her eyes on her work and did not dare look at the glowering Lady or her giggling guardian. She knew it sounded like a pet name. But she didn’t think she minded much, not with how lovely it sounded falling from his lips.

Eris stayed quiet now, obedient to her every command. He watched her with such reverence in his eyes, as if still surprised she had appeared, worried she may go away again at any moment. If only he knew she was just another healer from the Dawn Court, no benevolent angel of mercy.

She wondered if he’d ever truly know her or if all of their meetings would be this way - inebriated or delusional from blood loss. And she hoped for both their sakes that the next time would be different. And maybe a part of her hoped to meet him in a state where she could really learn something about him. Something to compare to the rumors. All she knew at the moment was that he liked mythology. And that he fought like a hellcat when drunk.

“Beron would not approve of them fighting, would he?” She asked as she worked, her voice soft. Every movement tracked by those diligent amber eyes.

“Not in this manner, no,” Lady Edana answered, returning to Eris's bedside, “Not without his command, at least. He sees more honor in besting each other with strategy.”

Of course he would. Only Beron’s hand could inflict pain. That was how he stayed in control. Everyone else must impress him by playing his games perfectly. Aya had never expected to gain so much knowledge about the Autumn Court’s High Family and everything she learned made her more grateful for her own court and Thesan’s gentle rule. It also illuminated another aspect of Edana's secrecy.

This foolish behavior was a stark contrast to the tales and rumors of the Autumn sons, with their father’s brutality and their mother's brains. It certainly dimmed the intimidation to see that hulking brother passed out, mouth open and drooling on the velvet couch. Whatever Aya saw gave her power. And that golden ring took it away again. Edana did not yet know that she had picked someone with such an ambivalent heart. Capable of indifference and yet undecided.

When Aya finished dressing Eris’s wound and cleaning his filthy hands, she slipped a sleeping pill into his water and gave his shoulder a pat.

“Sleep well Eris,” She said, eager to get away from his relentless stare. Then she turned back and added sharply, “And listen to your mother.”

She shifted, about to make her way to the brother on the couch, but Eris’s voice stopped her.

“May I have a feather?” He asked, his voice remarkably soft compared to his terrible volume control from before.

“What?” Aya asked, hoping their audience did not notice the break in her voice. She knew the myth. That Clementia bestowed a feather upon her favored for luck.

“May I have a feather for luck?” He asked again, the gleam in his eye so hopeful it was almost painful.

For a moment, she considered it. It wouldn’t mean much, it would quiet him down and that would be that. But the weight of the Dawn Court customs would not release her. The tips of her ears grew hot, thinking of plucking a feather and handing it to him. Feathers were for honor, promises, and love. Even in the far friendlier, casual environment of her court, it wouldn't be seen as appropriate.

“You’re lucky enough just to be in her presence, you oaf,” Edana muttered, shaking Aya from her stupor. Eris frowned but he didn’t argue. He looked resigned, like he agreed with his mother's sentiment.

Aya silently thanked Edana and turned her attention toward the couch once more. The brother was not in terrible shape, with just a scattering of bruises and small cuts that would heal by morning. Luckily, he was far too drunk to remember anything by tomorrow. She hoped that Eris would not remember any of this either.

She had not failed to notice Eris’s split knuckles and she wondered what this brother had said to provoke him so. She might have asked, as they had humored all of her questions so far. But it seemed that neither Lady Edana nor her guards wanted to meet her eye as she inspected the younger Vanserra. As if there was something about this fight they were not saying. Or perhaps they were just embarrassed.

Aya told herself she did not care either way. She had decided, throughout the course of this visit, not to ask any more prying questions or sleuth or try to solve anything. She could not help her curiosity, but Thesan had ordered her not to meddle. And every answer to every question sat heavy like a stone in her heart. She did not want to carry all of that with her, anyways. So she finished patching up the anonymous brother, left a tonic one for the now-sleeping Eris, and returned to the comfort of the Dawn Court.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

The next morning, Eris’s shame pestered him as incessantly as his headache. Twice now, this poor healer had had to witness him in such a pathetic state. Gods knew what he had said last night. His mother wouldn’t tell him. She told him it was his punishment for being so foolish that he had to wonder what embarrassing things he may have said.

The only hint he got was in the note the healer had left him, beside a tin of fresh balm for his scars and a tonic for the hangover.

Drink lots of water, avoid stretching your wound. I look forward to your next prayer of thanks.

Your angel,

Aya

Eris blushed and cursed himself for it. He hadn’t known her name and had gotten into the habit of referring to her as Clementia in his mind. It must have slipped out.

He remembered little glimpses of what she looked like. Warm brown skin, eyes of lilac-grey, and small, capable hands. His fingers went to the wound in his side. Once again, he had been healed impeccably. This one had left a scar barely an inch long.

He had yet to thank her for all that she’d done and he wished that he could. But he did not know where to reach her or what a proper gift might look like.

Without him even realizing, without even having property met, she had begun to haunt his thoughts. Like a guardian angel, only a shadow of wings at the edge of his vision.

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