#the seven courts of prythian series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

utterlyotterlyx · 6 days

Text

A Fate Inked In Starlight

Part Seven

Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel

Series Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are, or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.

Warnings - angst, fluff, swearing, memory loss, memory finding

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

(I haven't fully edited this yet, I've been rushing to get this out with the burst of inspo I had for this fic lol)

"I can't concentrate when you look at me like that," Tia rolled her eyes at you, her large violet eyes that were enough to ward off even the most vile of creatures brimming with unbothered sass and boredom.

Tia craned her long graceful neck, curling it around her claws as she rested it on the ground and huffed, You haven't been able to concentrate all week.

The breeze whistled through the skies, skies of pale blue littered with the fluffiest clouds you'd ever seen, the ocean lapped onto the shores and the grass bristled in anticipation.

That was how the last seven days had gone. Unable to figure out how to return to Velaris, to Eris and Azriel and the people you had come to adore in their own unique ways, you decided that if you were to be stuck in the universe you had created, then you might as well figure a way to break out of it. It was harder than it seemed though, and every day that passed was another day of head splitting agony that threatened to consume you whole.

Of course you couldn't concentrate. Not when the look in Azriel's eyes haunted every step you took, he was so close, so close to grabbing you a risking hurtling himself into the world where you stood without a guarantee he would ever make it back to Velaris. Salt tainted the air and you shivered, wanting nothing more to be back in Autumn without your memories plaguing you with Duke curled up in your lap and your feet atop Eris' thighs.

The memories were there, just in reach for you to beckon from the wide open doors in your mind, but you weren't ready. Even the flurry of jolting images was too much for you to handle, they were all disjointed, none of them made sense really, but you knew that you had gone through an unimaginable loss, a loss that led you to where you were.

Selene and Danika had been nothing short of lovely and understanding toward you, Danika was trying to find out if Bryce was alright, and Selene was focused on you, on listening to the stories of your time in Prythian as they fell from your lips. It was saddening to see her violet eyes glazed over, the desire but bubbling happiness within them as you told her of Nyx, the nephew that she'd never get to meet.

"Yes, well it's because you won't leave me alone," you threw your hands up, exasperated, tendrils of your hair danced in the wind and you felt tired, it had been a long week of trying to summon your power to little avail, only the ocean reacted to you, rushing up the sandbank and flowing up your limbs..

Tia had been pushing you each day, ordering you to pluck the memories from that rippling ocean of starlight in your mind, promising that your power would awaken for it, but you couldn't. Part of you didn't wish to know where you'd come from, and you were fine with that.

Your power won't fully return until you embrace your past, y/n.

The flickering images were enough to convince you that you certainly did not want to know, there would be no embracing anything unless it was totally necessary.

"I can't, Tia," you told the beast, kicking idly at the sand hill in front of you and looking outward to the ocean.

There must have been a reason why the world you had supposedly created felt so serene, safe and guarded, an impenetrable fortress locked away in a far enough place that no one could ever reach.

"Is there more to this place? Are there cities and villages," you glanced about, "Or is it just this?"

You were well aware of how abundant your powers must have been to create a whole other dimension and to be able to pull travelling souls into it, but it seemed less impressive when you thought of how a beach with a pretty house was all that you could do.

You say that as if this isn't enough.

Tia's feline orbs narrowed on you, her body took up half of the shore and her breath was causing your hair to dance more than the wind was. In what world did you ever own her? In what world was the other half of your soul a fucking dragon?

Scales shimmering in the sunlight, Tia's slender neck stretched, her face hovering before your own, you a mere speck in the sand compared to it, "Is it enough?"

Cities, towns and villages exist here, Tia admitted softly, her voice in your mind was a stoic thing of deep feminine beauty, Those who are loved with the purest form adoration come here, to the world you built, a haven for lost and broken souls. Don't ever doubt your abilities again unless you'd like me to burn you.

"You wouldn't dare," you bit as though the words she had just spoken didn't make you want to curl into a ball and cry.

Don't tempt me, Princess.

The resolve that was folded neatly into your consciousness broke, you glanced to your hands and saw the flickers of blood, of bloody hands against a white stone floor, of mangled bodies and lifeless eyes staring up at you. Blinking hard, you drowned out the gargled screams that had forced their way into your head, inhaling shakily and flexing your fingers as the sound subsided.

"Fine. Just one."

Nesta clutched onto a book, she held it close to her chest and inhaled your scent that still lingered on the pages.

The sunken hollows beneath her eyes were begging for life, for rest, but she refused to give it to them, not until she figured out a way to get to you. There was a moment of pause, a moment where she had found herself curled up in the place where you used to sit in the library, hoping that your lingering aura would tell her what to do, that some part of you left in Prythian would guide her to the answer she sought.

Amren hadn't found anything either, much to Rhys' blaring anger, part of his was ready to denounce his second for what she had done, and Nesta knew that no one would stop him from doing so, your void was impossible to fill.

The shadows around Azriel slumped against him, withering in the pain caused by your disappearance, they were reaching for you too that night and your fingers had almost grazing them, your warmth a sweet melody against their overcast sonnet. Their owner wasn't doing much better, neither was Eris who had no choice but to return to Autumn and face whatever questions posed by Beron.

Visions kept on taking control of Elain leaving her fitting and shuddering, her eyes rolled back into her head and turned milky white more than their usual hue, and all she did was mutter your name as Lucien braced her body against him so that she wouldn't hurt herself.

Prythian had felt lifeless, like you leaving had opened the gates to hell and the most vile beasts were ready to crawl through. The skies were grey, the birds didn't dare to sing, and the world felt as though it had stopped turning.

Then there was the disappearances. Fae males, females and children of all ages vanishing from sight, Cassian was monitoring the situation, he was trying to figure it all out with Rhys and the limited capability of Azriel. They couldn't find anything, nothing that would lead them to the culprit. No bodies. No blood. Nothing.

The House of Wind groaned in the whipping wind, so fierce that it would leave your cheeks red and eyes watering, and Nesta sat there with your favourite book clasped loosely in her fingers, the one you carried with you always decorated in gold foreign markings that held a story of a land that may have existed once but hadn't been whispered of in thousands of years.

Nesta had been looking at the cover of the book for a long few minutes, admiring the hunter green cover and the faded golden scratches.

Scratches.

Nesta frowned, her fingers ghosting over the symbol with her eyebrows stitching themselves together. Flicking through the book, she found more of the intricate markings, ones that mirrored some of the more notable scars on your skin and her breath caught in her throat once she realised what you had done.

Some part of you knew what they meant.

It was clearly your writing, an angelic compilation of curved letters and question marks, and tears formed in her eyes as she spied the markings that would lead her to you.

Nesta rushed about the library, shoving furniture aside as close as it could be against the walls, she threw the woven rug across the room and gazed down at the bare floor like she could already see it opening up beneath her feet. The door opened, hitting against the arm of the chair, and Rhys stood their with Azriel and Cassian peering over his shoulder at her; she guessed that she looked crazy, with the swollen eyes and pale skin, with the hair falling from her coronet, but she didn't care.

"I need paint, something that I can draw with," the book was open in her hands and she knelt on the ground, Rhys must have mentally called for Feyre, because none of the males went to fulfil her request and instead stepped into the room and asked the eldest Archeron sister what she had found. Nesta offered the book to them, the one with your markings and writing etched around the words printed on the page, "They're her markings, she drew them, she wrote what they meant. I think I can use them to find her."

Again, the door swung open to reveal Feyre stood there, looking as exhausted as they all did, with a bucket of onyx paint wrapped in her fingers. Feyre had busied herself with Elain, she was trying to help Lucien care for her whilst also keeping a very close eye on Nyx who slept in the same bed as his parents these days.

The paint sloshed in the container, and Feyre placed it before Nesta who looked to the substance and then back to the pages. She dipped to fingers into the liquid, and her toes curled at the wetness of it, how it seeped into her nailbed and stained her digits.

Nesta carefully copied the markings you had jotted down in the margins of the book, markings of the eight-pointed star, the marking you had written to mean portal, and the one that you had said meant lost, and then she sat back.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, something did.

It was faint at first, a soft glow that they all would have missed if it didn't grow stronger by the second. The onyx paint glowed with veins of emerald green and the candlelight cowered at the pulsating power of it. Black mist drifted upward like a waterfall, splitting and rising, curving like a dome and attaching to the nearest particle until darkness consumed it, the green glow flickering inside of it until that too vanished.

Cassian moved to Nesta's side, his hand latched onto her shoulder just in case he needed to project her away from whatever she had opened on the floor of the library. Chills trickled down their collective spine and that's when Nesta knew that she hadn't opened a portal to you at all.

The soft clicking of heels sounded against the ground, echoing around them, the darkness parted like a curtain and faint white pulsing light flickered in the void, "Well, well. Look who's opened the door this time."

Rhys tensed and bared his teeth, snapping his head to Nesta with a seething breath. Out of the void walked Bryce, eyes cold and distant, a smirk playing on her plump lips, and she leaned against the threshold of the darkness with her arms folded over her chest and red wine hair pooling over her shoulders.

"What are you doing here?"

Bryce smirked, picking a loose thread from the stitching of her leather jacket as her gaze wandered about the room, "Don't ask me what I'm doing here. walked through an open door," her attention fell to Nesta, "I knew you had it in you," her eyes sparkled and fell to the book resting in Nesta's lap, she looked displaced, surprised by it, like it had been lost and now found, "Where did you get that?"

Confused, Nesta looked at the book littered in your scribe, allowing her mind to cast itself back to when you had first formed the attachment with it. It had spoke to you, you had told her, on a level deeper that spiritual.

"That's not your story to hold," Bryce growled, throwing her hand and beckoning for the bundle of pages, "It's the only thing that remains of her, give it to me."

Nesta rose to her feet and found herself needing to know why Bryce was so intent in taking the worn out thing from her grip, why tears were brimming in the corners of her eyes and desperation was bubbling within her, "Of who?"

"Y/N."

Nesta snapped her gaze to Rhys whose gaze softened at the name, his guard dropping if only slightly, "How do you know her?" Azriel asked, his voice low and hoarse, like he had cried his throat raw.

"How do I- What? She's my friend, she helped us defeat the most inhuman thing you could ever imagine and dragged it through a portal. I tried to find her, but I couldn't. She was just, gone."

The cogs began to turn.

That day Eris had found you, he said you were covered in blood, wearing a foreign armour and had talons sharp enough to tear flesh upon your fingers; he had said it looked as though you had stumbled right into Autumn from the battlefield. It was because you had, and you had brought something with you.

The claws scraping across Prythian belonged to whatever you had dragged with you, to the thing that had laid dormant to not alert you to its presence, but now that you were gone. Gods.

"When you say that this," Nesta held up the book, "Is the only thing left of her. What does that mean?"

Bryce blinked hard, her whisky amber eyes blazing in their sockets, "That's her story, someone alive during the time of the collapse of her empire wrote of it, of her and everything she lost. Give it to me, she'd want me to protect it."

It was clear that Bryce was unaware that you were still alive, maybe, and even Rhys felt a pang of sympathy for the whimpering girl before his eyes, "Y/N isn't dead. A week ago she was here, with us. Now she's gone."

"She was here?"

Azriel hummed, "Yes. She had no memory of who she was, we called her Flora. As soft as a petal in the rain at Spring."

Bryce scoffed in disbelief, "If she fell here then that means,” she trailed off with widened eyes that moved to gaze beyond the window to the dark clouds clinging to the skies, “It means he’s here too.”

The roomed dimmed, the sound of Bryce’s rushed breaths swelled inside of the four walls protecting them from the evil lurking beyond, it was watching them inquisitively, awaiting to see their next move. Azriel took a step forward, head tilted to the side and examining the girl before him, “Who?”

“Cados. Her brother,” wind rattled against the windows at the name like it was a forbidden thing, that to speak it meant death; branches scratched against the panes, “We have to find her. You don't know what he can do, she's the only one who can stop him."

"We're trying," Nesta's voice was quiet and wavering, she sounded as defeated as she looked as she held that book close to her chest.

Bryce's gaze softened, the portal rippled behind her in question, and then Bryce saw just how badly they were handling your disappearance. It reminded her of the time when you had sacrificed yourself for them, when she and Ruhn and Hunt had to watch hopelessly from the torched battleground as you tumbled through the sky wrapped around Cados' body, pulling him through one of your portals.

Bryce had waited weeks for you to come back until she succumbed to the gut wrenching realisation that you may not have made it.

There was no one as fierce as you, no one as cocky and intelligent, no one who had planned everything so meticulously that everyone around you would unknowingly follow each turn in the story. If you wanted someone to do something, they would, whether they knew it or not.

They called you Flora. You would have howled at the name, the pretty floral note that was stark in its difference to how Lunathion knew you.

"Do you have something of hers? When I landed here it was because the Starsword had called to Truthteller, like calls to like. If you do then perhaps we can use it to find her," Bryce motioned between herself and Nesta.

Rhys shuffled on his feet, "Her armour is here, would that suffice?"

The red wine haired girl nodded gently, the gears in her mind churning, "It would," she visibly winced like she had just realised something, pinching the bridge of her nose and exhaling through it, "I'll have to bring my clan through. Maybe try not to maim them Mr High Lord."

Nesta smirked, forgetting how much she loved the sarcasm and wit that consumed Bryce, and when Nesta thought of it, it made complete sense that she would be your friend. She could almost see it, the fleeting image of you in a tight dress swaying to the horrid music that had sang from that odd device in the cave that day. It seemed as though you were some kind of traveller of sorts.

One memory.

One tiny little memory.

But which one?

Orbs of frosted glass glowed in the open doorway that you had been avoiding, hovering at different heights and previewing images playing on the surface, and each one emitted its own soft audio, a glimpse into what you once were.

Standing in the centre of the pitch black pit, you struggled to choose one.

The ground rippled like when a pebble dropped into a shallow lake, flowing outward in a circular formation with every step you took. A thin black gown hung from your shoulders, there was no form to it, and the hem was damp from kissing the ground.

The spheres bobbed along like apples in a barrel at a fair, floating in front of your face. War. Love. Sex. Heartache. Friendships. It was all there in front of you, your story, but you didn't know where to start.

One of the orbs glowed brighter than the rest, it held an electric blue hue to it, the searing heat of it forcing smoke to rise and dance upward into the non-existent atmosphere, a house without shelter. The air shifted, it grew heavy and dense with desire, and you knew that orb of blue fire was the one.

Fire exploded around you, coating the walls and slithering along the ground, but not touching you, not harming you in any way. There was a woman, gold hair and blue eyes that matched your own, they even held the same currents of gold as yours did; she was regal, a queen if you'd ever seen one, and you were a ghost in the memory.

A version of you walked with her, arm in arm, through an all too familiar forest, turrets loomed overhead but not in a threatening way. There was a certain pity in her eyes that stirred a familiar pain in your gut, this version of you didn't look like you at all, she was a shell, young, pale and cowering, skin clear compared to what you now wore.

How old was this memory?

Words were muffled, and you had to to take a step forward to follow the flurry of words, to follow where the woman was taking you, ducking under arched branches and feeling peace with the trickle of the babbling brooks. It was a magical place, so magical that you felt your own magic swim inside of you.

The woman was so familiar, you found yourself examining her face, always floating back to those eyes, she didn't look much older than you but you weren't sure if that was due to the fae aging that clearly dwelt within her.

Her words was simple and soft, she was sorry, she would avenge your pain, she would make sure your home lay with her always, she would always stand with you, she would never allow you to feel alone and forgotten.

To whatever end.

Authors Note

It's finally hereeeeeee x

I know it's been ages, I'm so sorry! I kind of got into a writing slump with this fic as I started other projects :(

Taglist

@acourtofbatboydreams @glitterypirateduck @isaxbella749 @aactuaaltraash @blackgirlmagicforever @imma-too-many-fandoms @b1ravenclaw @tsumsamu @donttellthecats @glaciuswduo @mybestfriendmademe @daardyrnitta @cleverzonkwombatsludge @sevikas-whore @yourmumsdumptruck @saltedcoffeescotch @rogersbarnesxx @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @edance2000 @lilah-asteria @acourtofdreamsandshadows @amberlynn98

93 notes · View notes

nestaarcheronweek · 1 year

Text

♕ Announcing Nesta Archeron Appreciation Week 2023 ♕

Join us in celebrating Nesta Archeron from April 23 through April 29, 2023!

Welcome back to Nesta Week 2023! We decided to move the event up sooner in the year in honor of Nesta being born sometime in the spring, so we hope you're ready to celebrate our queen a little sooner than expected! Feel free to participate in any way you can, from headcanons, fanart, moodboards, fics, drabbles…. no matter how big or small, anything celebrating Nesta is welcome!

Please tag @nestaarcheronweek and use the tag #NestaWeek2023 so we can see all your lovely posts!

This year’s prompts are as follows:

Day One: Sister ♕ Nesta has a unique bond with her sisters, whether that's with Feyre and Elain or Emerie and Gwyn. How do you see her interacting with them?

Day Two: Sharp ♕ Nesta's wit — and her love of pointy objects — has been well-documented across the series. What's your take on how this word applies to her?

Day Three: Valkyrie ♕ Nesta trained hard to earn the title of Valkyie in A Court of Silver Flames. How do you see her embodying the title of Valkyrie?

Day Four: Lover ♕ Nesta has had many opportunities for love across Prythain — who do you ship her with? Cassian? Emerie? Eris? Gwyn? Azriel? Cresseida? Any and all ships are welcome!

Day Five: Birthday Girl ♕ While Nesta doesn't have a specified birthday in canon, that doesn't mean we can't celebrate our favorite character turning a year older! How do you think Nesta and the people who love her would celebrate her special day?

Day Six: Lady Death ♕ After surviving the Cauldron, Nesta became one of the most powerful characters in Prythian. What do you think Lady Death's magic looks like?

Day Seven: Free Day ♕ Any topic of your choosing!

A huge shoutout to @dustjacketmusings, @c-e-d-dreamer, @talkfantasytome, @isterofimias, and many others for helping to plan this event!

Please contact @moodymelanist with any questions about the event. We can't wait to see what you all create!

#nestaweek2023 #nesta archeron #pro nesta archeron #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #sarah j. maas #a court of thorns and roses

197 notes · View notes

the-dark-artifices-trees · 1 month

Text

The importance of the number 7 in crescent city

Throughout the entirety of the crescent city series, the number 7 plays a huge role in both a symbolic and a literal way

⚠️ House of Flame and Shadow spoilers ⚠️

7 Asteri on Midgard

Rigelus (title- The Bright Hand)

Eosporos (title- The Morning Star)

Hesperus (title- The Evening Star)

Polaris (title- The North Star)

Octartis (title- The Southern Star)

Austrus (title- unknown)

Sirius (title- The Wolf Star)

7 Princes of Hel/ Circles of Hel

Hunt also mentions that “Type-Seven is only for the princes themselves, and given what this thing can do, I’d bet it’d be deemed a Six” in chapter 29 of HOEAB, when talking about the demons and princes of Hel

7 districts in crescent city/ city heads/ gates

7 “Made” objects *

Mask (made by Cauldron)

Crown (made by Cauldron)

Harp (made by Cauldron)

Horn (made by Cauldron)

Starsword (made by Cauldron)

Truth-Teller (made by Cauldron)

Ataraxia (made by Nesta)

*now while nesta did make another sword and dagger, we don’t know if they possess any magic and they don’t have any names either*

7 members of the Pack of Devils

Danika Fendyr (alpha)

Connor Holstrom (second)

Nathalie (third)

Bronson

Thorne

Zach

Zelda

7 courts in prythian

Night Court

Dawn Court

Day Court

Spring Court

Summer Court

Winter Court

Autumn Court

7 tog books (not including novella)

Throne of Glass

Crown of Midnight

Heir of Fire

Queen of Shadows

Empire of Storms

Tower of Dawn

Kingdom of Ash

Known starborn fae *

Fionn

Theia

Pelias

Helena

Silene

Bryce Quinlan

Ruhn Danaan

*The term Starborn describes the descendants of High King Fionn and High Queen Theia.

1. Also when bryce traded places so Danika would get into the Bone quarter, she said the vow (“I wish to trade my place.”) 7 times:

“She’d tossed a Death Mark into the Istros, payment to the Under-King—a coin of pure iron from an ancient, long-gone kingdom across the sea. Passage for a mortal on a boat.

And then she’d knelt on the crumbling stone steps, the river mere feet behind her, the arches of the bone gates above her, and waited.

The Under-King, veiled in black and silent as death, had appeared moments later.

It has been an age since a mortal dared set foot on my isle.

The voice had been old and young, male and female, kind and full of hatred. She’d never heard anything so hideous—and beckoning.

I wish to trade my place. (1)

I know why you are here, Bryce Quinlan. Whose passage you seek to barter. An amused pause. Do you not wish to one day dwell here among the honored dead? Your balance remains skewed toward acceptance—continue on your path, and you shall be welcomed when your time comes.

I wish to trade my place. For Danika Fendyr. (2)

Do this and know that no other Quiet Realms of Midgard shall be open to you. Not the Bone Quarter, not the Catacombs of the Eternal City, not the Summer Isles of the north. None, Bryce Quinlan. To barter your resting place here is to barter your place everywhere.

I wish to trade my place. (3)

You are young, and you are weighed with grief. Consider that your life may seem long, but it is a mere flutter of eternity.

I wish to trade my place. (4)

Are you so certain Danika Fendyr will be denied welcome? Have you so little faith in her actions and deeds that you must make this bargain?

I wish to trade my place. She’d sobbed the words. (5)

There is no undoing this.

I wish to trade my place. (6)

Then say it, Bryce Quinlan, and let the trade be done. Say it a seventh and final time, and let the gods and the dead and all those between hear your vow. Say it, and it shall be done.

She hadn’t hesitated, knowing this was the ancient rite. She’d looked it up in the gallery archives. Had stolen the Death Mark from there, too. It had been given to Jesiba by the Under-King himself, the sorceress had told her, when she’d sworn fealty to the House of Flame and Shadow.

I wish to trade my place. (7)

And so it had been done.”

- HOEAB, chapter 62

2. Hunt was in the Asteri dungeon’s for 7 years

“How long did they do that to you—after Mount Hermon?”

“Seven years.”

She closed her eyes as the weight of those words rippled through her.

Hunt said, “I lost track of time, too. The Asteri dungeons are so far beneath the earth, so lightless, that days are years and years are days and … When they let me out, I went right to the Archangel Ramuel. My first … handler. He continued the pattern for two years, got bored with it, and realized that I’d be more useful dispatching demons and doing his bidding than rotting away in his torture chambers.”

“Burning Solas, Hunt,” she whispered.” -HOEAB, chapter 35

“We need to get out of here,” Ruhn said, and nothing had ever sounded more stupid. Of course they needed to get out of here. For so many fucking reasons.

But Athalar cracked open an eye. Met his stare. Pain and rage and determination shone there, unbroken despite the halo and slave brand on his wrist. “Then talk to your … person.” Girlfriend, the angel didn’t say.

Ruhn ground his teeth, and his ravaged mouth gave a burst of pain. He’d rather die here than beg the Hind for help. “Another way.”

“I was in these dungeons … for seven years,” Hunt said. “No way out. Especially not with Pollux so invested in ripping us apart.” -HOFAS, Chapter 11

3. Apollion (7th prince of Hel) ate the Sirius (7th Asteri)

“No one would dare say his name, not after the Prince of the Pit became the first and only being to ever kill an Asteri. His butchering of the seventh holy star—Sirius, the Wolf Star—during the First Wars remained a favorite ballad around war-camp fires. And what he’d done to Sirius after slaying her had earned him that awful title: Star-Eater” -HOEAB, chapter 51

4. The slave tattoos has seven stars in it

“For there was also no hiding the second tattoo, stamped on their right wrists: SPQM.

It adorned every flag and letterhead of the Republic—the four letters encircled with seven stars—and adorned the wrist of every being owned by it.” -HOEAB, Chapter 6

“Ruhn spied their own solar system in the center of it all. Seven planets around a massive star. Seven Asteri—technically six now—to rule Midgard. Seven Princes of Hel to challenge them.

Seven Gates in this city through which Hel had tried to invade this spring.

Seven and seven and seven and seven—always that holy number. Always—” -HOSAB, Chapter 25

5. 7 is a holy number

“Seven—the holy number. Or unholy, depending on who was worshipping. Seven Asteri, seven hills in their Eternal City, seven neighborhoods and seven Gates in Crescent City; seven planets, and seven circles in Hel, with seven princes who ruled them, each darker than the last” - HOEAB, Chapter 19

“Micah had left the latter’s body up. Justinian would hang there for seven full days and then be pulled off the crucifix—and dumped into the Istros” -HOEAB, Chapter 69

6. Hypaxia and necromancy

“So this is it?” Ithan asked Hypaxia, gesturing with a hand to the seven candles she’d arranged on the ground. “Light the candles and wait?” -HOSAB, Chapter 61

“It took Hypaxia seven hours, seven minutes, and seven seconds to raise Sigrid.

Ithan barely moved from his stool the entire time Hypaxia stood over the corpse and chanted. Jesiba left, came back with her laptop, and worked for some of the time. She even offered Ithan some food, which he refused.

He had no appetite. If this didn’t work …” -HOFAS, Chapter 48

7. Sailings happen on the 7th day after the death

Don’t come to the Sailing tomorrow. You’re not welcome there.

She’d listened to it over and over, the first words to echo in her silent head.

Her mother hadn’t woken from the bed beside hers when Bryce had exited the hotel room on Fae-soft feet, taking the service elevator and leaving through the unwatched alley door. She hadn’t left that room for six days, just sat staring vacantly at the floral hotel wallpaper. And now, with the seventh dawning … Only for this would she leave. Would she remember how to move her body, how to speak.” -HOEAB, Chapter 7

8. Midgard geography

““Seven—the holy number. Or unholy, depending on who was worshipping. Seven Asteri, seven hills in their Eternal City, seven neighborhoods and seven Gates in Crescent City; seven planets, and seven circles in Hel, with seven princes who ruled them, each darker than the last.” -HOEAB, chapter 18

“Bryce didn’t wait for them before trailing the old male up the walkway as the seven planets aligned themselves perfectly, stars glittering in the far reaches of the room.” -HOSAB, chapter 38

“Bryce halted after a turn in the stairs and assessed the long hallway ahead. When it revealed no guards, she stepped into it.

There were no doors. Only this hall, perhaps seventy feet long and fifteen feet wide. Likely fourteen feet, to be a multiple of seven. The holy number.” -HOSAB, Chapter 71

“She’d studied Fury’s rough map of the palace layout. This area was seven levels below the throne room, where the Asteri sat on crystal thrones” -HOSAB, chapter 71

“They could fly no further. The massive black wall stretched for miles in either direction before curving northward, with wards protecting the airspace above it. Hunt knew from maps that the area the wall encircled was forty-nine miles in diameter—seven times seven, the holiest of numbers—and that at its center, somewhere in the barren, snow-blasted terrain, lay the Northern Rift, shrouded in mist. Barriers upon barriers protected Midgard from the Rift, and Hel beyond it.” -HOFAS, Chapter 70

9. Ithan & the number 7

“Sabine stared down at the seven shards the Fendyr sword had broken into, then lifted her furious gaze to Ithan.

Ithan shifted back into his humanoid body with a near-instant flash. “It’s just a piece of steel,” he said, panting, the metallic tang of the blade lingering in his mouth. “All those years you obsessed over it, resented Danika for having it … It’s just a piece of metal. - HOFAS, Chapter 74

“You have seven minutes” -HOFAS, Chapter 81 (when Ithan was talking to Connor)

30 notes · View notes

sofiasjornal · 1 month

Text

My (many) questions after HOFAS

While writing my HOFAS review, I was thinking about the different perspectives and POVs the new book could have, since we are finally leaving Bryce and Hunt's story. Selfishly, I would love the focus to shift to Lidia and Ruhn. Not only because they became my top two favorite characters but because the possibilities for crossovers and connections with the other series are endless. I don't think there's a need, but let me just clarify that this is all speculation! And because I might remember something more in a few days, or weeks, or months, I’ll update this as I go along!

1) Lidia has some kind of connection with Aelin and Mala’s bloodline (she named her son after Brannon, after all!!) and since KoA and ACOSF share the same timeline, and HOFAS is set after ACOSF, Aelin is still very much alive and could somehow connect with Lidia! She seems to have an incredible amount of firepower, the likes of which we only saw with Aelin, so there’s definitely a connection there. And they are both trained assassins, for god's sake! And with the stags! She’s a Terrasen girl, through and through!

But again, how did the fae shifters come to Midgard if Erilea (I don’t think the name of the planet was ever revealed, so let’s stay with Erilea) was never conquered?! Another rift that opened and then closed? Is there any mention on ToG of that? I don’t remember… I might have to read it all again!

There's also the very interesting context in which Lidia's children were conceived, in a very similar ritual to Calanmai, from the Spring Court (ACOTAR). So how come two of SJM's series come together in Lidia's character?

2) Also, Ruhn and Rhysand would also be an interesting crossover. The similarities between the two go beyond those of Fae, it would be really interesting to explore that. Bryce didn't really explore these similarities when she met Rhysand, I wish she had. We know that Prythian is the home planet of the Fae, but definitely something linking Rhysand and Ruhn together.

Also think about the possibility, if Ruhn is connected or a descendant of Rhys's bloodline and Lidia of Aelin’s, then the two bloodlines are now united! AGAIN, SO MANY POSSIBILITIES, IM GETTING DIZZY!

So in a book where Lidia and Ruhn take center stage, imagine the power of that story!! I’m speechless just thinking about it!

3) The link between Wyrd and Urd got me thinking! Somewhere in HOSAB, when Bryce went to the under-king and he talked about Urd, when she was not a goddess but a force, “When she was a vat of life, a mother to all, a secret language of the universe?” (Yes I went looking for the quote, my mind is driving me insane). This secret language of the universe, could it be the wyrdmarks?! And if so, remember when Bryce killed Micah in the first CC and Micah said “The language is beyond that of this world. It is the language of universes.” Could Bryce’s tattoo be in wyrdmarks and if so that would mean that the Book of Breathing is also in wyrdmarks! Amren can read those! HOW?! HOW?? And what are wyrdmarks doing in acotar and crescent city?! There’s definitely a connection with ToG! It’s right here!

4) The Valg, the Asteri, the Daglan, the Princes of Hel, and... one hell of a mess, pun intended! By the end of HOFAS, we know that the Asteri and the Daglan are the same thing. I’ve been, however, wondering about the Valg. I don’t believe the Asteri are Valg. They don’t fit the same characteristics. Besides, in ToG is said that the Valg’s home planet was ruled by three kings, a planet made by pain, wind, and darkness, and the Asteri were originally seven and come from a forgotten planet in the cosmos. Besides, the Asteri feed on firstlight and the Valg don’t have that need. So I don’t think there’s a connection there.

However, in ACOMAF, when Bryce is fighting the Stryga and throws a brick in her face, the line reads “Bone crunched and she roared, black blood spraying.” This always stayed with me because it kept calling the Valg to my memory. The Valg have black blood as well. Also, the death gods feed on life just like the Valg, if I’m not mistaken! So could the death-gods be Valg? Do you know who else has black blood? The Reapers! In HOSAB, when Bryce strikes with the starlight sword it is said “And nothing had ever felt so right, so easy, as plunging the blade into the bony chest of the wounded Reaper. It arced, bellowing, black blood spurting from its withered lips.” So either it is a coincidence that all these creatures have black blood or there’s a connection! And considering the reapers originate from Hel, is there possibly a connection? However, it doesn’t quite make sense, because their home planet was ruled by three kings Erawan, Orcus, and Mantyx (let’s not forget that bitch Maeve). And in Hel, each layer is governed by a different prince, seven in total. So this is where I raise my hands and say I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ where to go from here!

5) The whole issue of the Viper Queen! When Tharion went to the Viper Queen something’s raised “concern”. First, the blood oath! I only remember something like that being mentioned and talked about in ToG! Tharion was only able to escape because Ithan killed Sigrid and broke the bond! Remember at the end of HOSAB, after Tharion defected and VP ordered him to come back after Cormac’s death? He felt a pull of the bond that he couldn’t resist! Remember how the cadre were all Maeve’s prisoners with that same bond? It’s the same thing! And remember Tharion mentioning that her blood was darker than normal?!

Feel free to join this mess and give me more theories and your thoughts on all of it! I’m just going to figure all this out! And like I said, as I think of new things I’ll just update this!

20 notes · View notes

starfall-spirit · 10 months

Text

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY

If you want to give me a gift you can come to my ask box and tell me you have visited any or all of the wonderful stories I am posting below and just tell me all the reasons the authors are amazing bc I guarantee I'll agree with you.

Feysand

As the River Flows and/or A Court of Faded Dreams by @the-lonelybarricade

Sunshine and Promises (You get some Helion too) and by @shallyne

A Memory Undone and/or The Things We Cannot Say Series (Mute!Feyre) by @writtenonreceipts

To Steal a Bride of Spring by @ultadverb

Of the Archer and the Dark by @thesistersarcheron

I Was Enchanted to Meet You and/or Is There a Word for a Bad Miracle by @separatist-apologist

Catch Me Flying, Love by @reverie-tales

Five Minutes to Midnight by @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship

Blood Moon and Starlight Fangs by @edgyellie

Elucien

Sunshine and Reunions (Sunshine and Promises AU) by @shallyne

Seven Tears for the Sea by @ultadverb

Call it What You Want to by @separatist-apologist

(Also it’s Elucien Week so check that stuff out. We have some very talented participants this year!)

Elriel

Glitch by @thesistersarcheron

Over the Edge by @shallyne

Morlain

Embers by @ultadverb

Feymor

You're so Gorgeous by @separatist-apologist

Multiship

Sea Monsters Series by @separatist-apologist

Prythian's Fantasia by @vulpes-fennec

You and I Are Going to Change the World by @velidewrites

Pretty Please (I Need Your Hands on Me) by @headcanonheadcase (Also known as the threesome I didn't know I needed until she dropped a chapter in ubc)

#i could add so so many more and i encourage people to reblog with additions of their faves #I didn't add any of my works bc that feels awkward to me but if you follow me I'm sure you've read your fill of my stuff #fanfiction #feysand #elriel #elucien #morlain #feymor #multiship #acotar

55 notes · View notes

acourtofthought · 10 months

Text

I think Elucien's story will primarily deal with:

Koschei - because of what he's done to Vassa and the other girls (I don't think he'll be the final threat of the overall ACOTAR spin-off). I also think Elain will end Vassa's "curse" (with healing powers) which I believe is a parasite of sorts and not actually curse.

Beron - for what he's done to Lucien himself over the years, the LOA, Eris (Lucien taking out Beron would allow Eris to step up as High Lord), and Jesminda.

Helion - because of Lucien's unknown parentage, any ties he might have to the Mask (and what that could mean for the series / crossover as a whole), the Prison since that's where the Pegasus are from and Elain may be able to help restore whatever their food source was that died out (put those gardening skills to use!) and maaaybe where Koschei hides his soul.

Tamlin / Spring - since Prythian and the human lands need Spring up and running as well as the strength of its military for the upcoming war (though currently defunct).

I think Gwynriels story will primarily deal with:

Discovering that Merrill has secretly been working with the remaining human queens and that they have been working to find a way to allow beings from other worlds (possibly the Asteri?) to cross over to theirs in order to defeat the High Lords / High Lady of Prythian so they can divide the land and become the new rulers. (Eris said, “I have it on good authority that the other three queens have scattered to the winds.” Cassian tucked away the information and the questions it raised. / “I am descended from Rabath, Lord of the Western Wind,” Merrill seethed / But it wasn’t until Merrill’s brisk wind faded / “I was supposed to deliver volume seven of The Great War to Merrill yesterday / “There are others in your court as delusional as you are. They’ll get it for me one way or another, with the right incentive..

Discovering who either her father or grandfather is and what that might mean for her powers or any remaining family she has. If Autumn is key, I don't think she'd be able to go until Beron is eliminated (which I think would happen in an Elucien book since Lucien's POV in Autumn makes the most sense with his multiple connections) as her alliance is with the Night Court and I can't imagine she'd be able to cross over it's borders unless Eris was in charge.

The Illyrians. Not only because of the problems Az has with them but the issues they'll now have with the females having been in the Rite. I think Rhys will station Az there which is when everything will be addressed - "It had to be bad, then, if my brother had asked me to come. Really damn bad. Perhaps we needed a permanent presence out here, until the Illyrians remembered things like consequences. But the war had impacted us all, and with the rebuilding, with the human territories crawling out to meet us, with other Fae kingdoms looking toward a wall-less world and wondering what shit they could get away with … We didn’t have the resources to station someone out here. Not yet."

Gwyn having siren powers and being able to call Narben from the sea where it's rumored to be. I also think she'll find the tiny manuscript that Cassian threw in the Sidra (one of the earliest books ever written) which will contain important information from their history, something that might be valuable in the upcoming war.

I think Az might be a lightsinger of sorts. Not necessarily the way it's described but I think he's the one hiding something behind the pretty face that becomes "the monster" when he tortures and I think Gwyns song will be the thing to always call him back

I think that all might set up for some of the new books SJM has signed on for, building up to one major battle between the worlds.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #pro gwynriel #gwynriel #azriel acosf #gwyn acosf #gwyneth berdara #acotar 5 #acotar 6 #acotar theory #merrill #crossover acotar

81 notes · View notes

ofduskanddreams · 1 year

Text

Trust In My Hate: an Azris /Captive Prince Crossover

I likely won't start truly writing this fic until after What Lies Inside is completed, but I've been having a lot of fun planning, worldbuilding and outlining so I thought I would share some of it (but please note that the content of this post is subject to change, nothing’s final just yet.)

If you aren't familiar with the series, it's the Captive Prince Trilogy by C.S Pacat. [link to Penguin's page for the series here.]

I'm not calling this an AU because I'm not transplanting Azris to the Captive Prince (CaPri) world, nor am I transplanting the CaPri plot into ACOTAR. The world where the fic is set is inspired by both the CaPri and ACOTAR, as you can clearly see in the map below. The characters are maybe 60% ACOTAR, 25% OC, 15% CaPri. The plot is like 60% CaPri, 20% post-canon ACOTAR, 20% original. I essentially threw everything I liked into a blender and made something new.

Find the map and the fic's prologue below the cut! [new map and updated prologue as of 2/22]

Map:

I recommend clicking on the map to view it at a higher resolution.

Prologue:

This will explain the map, I promise.

Excerpts from the Illyrian Chronicle, compiled by Gaspar Kasos for his majesty King Gabriel in the year 207 AL (after liberation.) Long ago, the great Island of Prythian was divided into eight kingdoms. The Kingdom of Andr in the far north, and a coalition of seven kingdoms known collectively as the Courts. There were four seasonal Courts: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter; and three solar Courts known as Dawn, Day, and Night. Five centuries ago, Cornelius II, then the ruler of the Autumn Court, began a campaign of expansion. By the time his great-great-grandson Timothy IV took the throne, the Autumn Court’s power had consumed the other three seasonal Courts. Timothy did not think Andr, that rocky formidable land, worth the resources necessary to claim it and thus turned his gaze to the south.

In response to the growing threat from the north, Dawn allied with Day. Both would remain neutral in the initial conflicts to come which distanced them from the Night Court who stood fixedly against Autumn’s actions.

Not long after this coalition was formed, a rebellion broke out in Night. For centuries the Night Court’s rulers had oppressed the Illyrian people within their borders, forcing them to live in desolate camps and serve in their armies. Under the leadership of the warrior Enalius, the Illyrians were able to break away from the Night’s oppression. During the revolution they conquered half of Night, establishing the great Kingdom of Illyria as it stands today.

Though Dawn and Day remained neutral for decades, it would not last. On the Winter Solstice in 57 AL, Autumn spies massacred Dawn's royal line in its entirety, prompting Night to join the Southern Coalition with Day to stand against Autumn and aid in governing Dawn's rulerless territory on the border.

Thirty-seven years ago the newly crowned King Rholand of Night and King Gabriel of Illyria met on the border at Mount Ramiel to discuss a tentative peace, marking the end of over a century and a half of strife between their lands. Rholand offered Illyria a public apology for Night’s persecution of their people, as well as a generous peace treaty and trade agreement that leaned heavily in Illyria’s favor. It was at this summit when Illyria formally joined the alliance against Autumn and the allied Southern Kingdoms as we know them were formed. The final offering on that celebrated day however, was made by no kingdom but by King Rholand's younger sister.

The Lady Elyssa of Night surprised all of those gathered by offering King Gabriel her hand in marriage, arguing that there would be no better demonstration of this new, peaceful relationship between their kingdoms than joining their houses by blood. Impressed by her eloquence and resolve, and after discussing the terms with Rholand, Gabriel accepted the proposal and the two were wed the following sunset at the grand temple in Illyria’s capital, Ios.

The three southern rulers of Prythian ensured that their sons and heirs—the Princes Azrelios of Illyria, Rhysand of Night, and Lucien of Day—grew up paying frequent visits between their lands to bolster the trio’s camaraderie. The rulers’ forethought was well rewarded when a brutal battle broke out at Marlas in the borderlands at the eve of this current decade.

The three young, then untested heirs valiantly led their forces against Autumn’s armies, but the battle only ceased when the Illyria’s Prince met Eren Vanserra, Heir to the Autumn Throne, in single combat and slew him on the battlefield. Eren’s death placed his younger brother Eris next in the line of succession.

The battle of Marlas shattered over two centuries of relative peace between Autumn and the South. Nine years later, skirmishes are still frequent in the borderlands and tensions between Autumn and the Southern Kingdoms are at an all time high.

If you made it this far, thank you <3 I know I'm a nerd. Yes, I made the map myself and likely spent waaayyyy too much time on it but I think it's pretty cool and I hope it stoked some excitement!

#azris #azris fanfic #captive prince au #captive prince #my wips #acotar fanfiction #acotar au #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar

74 notes · View notes

dreamlandreader · 7 months

Text

Ghost of You - Chapter Two

A/n: Thank you so much for all the love on the first chapter! Every like, comment and reblog meant so much to me! If anyone would like to be added to the series tag list just let me know ❤️ I’m so sorry I haven’t updated sooner than now, I found out shortly after posting the first chapter that I got my dream job and I have had so much paperwork to get through before I can start on Monday. Once I’ve settled into the new routine I’ll be able to set up a better schedule for posting so there hopefully won’t be so long between posts! Anyway, happy reading! 💖

Chapter warnings: Memory loss, angst, very brief discussion of injuries

Prythian

5 Months Later

Amren was not an anxious being. She felt rage and lust, irritation and satisfaction. Very occasionally, she even felt admiration, but she did not feel anxiety. However, the last five months had begun to push her towards the brink of worry.

It had been five months since her High Lord and Lady were stolen away in the middle of the day from right under her nose. Five months since the Morrigan had arrived at the River House to find it empty and reeking of blood. Five months since the entire Night Court had gone to hell.

She still couldn’t understand it. How someone had outsmarted her High Lord, the tactical expert who was always a step ahead of his enemies. How they had managed to leave seemingly unscathed when faced with Feyre Archeron, the human turned fae with the power of seven high lords. Nothing about that day made sense, and the unknown made Amren uneasy.

It did not make it any easier that Amren had been prepared for something like this to happen. She was second in command for a reason. Rhysand had chosen her because she was a reliable member of his court who was not afraid to make hard decisions and sacrifices for the sake of her home. Despite this, Feyre and Rhys’s absence was having an increasingly profound effect upon the Night Court, and Amren was slowly beginning to lose her handle on the situation.

It was not like the last time, when Rhysand was under the mountain for half a century. Then, all of Prythian was suffering, no court was left unscathed, and therefore, there was no strife between courts. Internal conflict with the Illyrians and the Court of Nightmares was, for once, not so prevalent, and on the rare occasions trouble did rear its head, rebellion was easily quashed. This time, however, trouble stirs deep in the underbelly of the Night Court. Rumors swirl of Rhysand and Feyre’s disappearance, some speculating that they abandoned their court and its people because they believed a war was brewing once again. The Illyrians took that idea and elaborated upon it considerably, seizing the opportunity to dispute Rhysand’s claim as High Lord, pointing out his inadequacies, and sowing seeds of doubt amongst themselves and Night Court citizens alike.

Hewn City residents were being equally as troublesome. Despite being banished to life in the Court of Nightmares, numerous Hewn City fae have been spotted wandering the Night Court, causing damage to property, starting brawls, and injuring innocent bystanders. Chasing these incidents has possessed the majority of the Inner Circle’s time, which has made searching for Feyre and Rhysand even more difficult.

Trying to find them had been like locating a needle in a haystack. The scene upon which Mor had stumbled on that day provided only a few clues. The tang of blood wafted heftily through the air, broken glass littered the kitchen floor, and a suspicious black powder dusted the dark oak countertops. Azriel’s contact at the local apothecary provided intel that the powder was a highly protected substance, one only available to those with the highest clearance due to its abuse in previous centuries by criminals. The intended use of the powder is for aiding sleep, and works when a small amount is mixed into a tonic. However, when inhaled in larger amounts, the effects of the powder lead to drowsiness and temporary vision loss, suggesting that Feyre and Rhysand were blinded by their attackers, and that the incident was anything but a fair fight.

“I still don’t understand how they got past the wards,” Azriel puzzled, breaking Amren out of her thoughts and plunging her back into the river house dining room, which, in recent months, had become the Inner Circles meeting room.

“Rhysand must have made a mistake. Left a gap in the wards, or not noticed a weak patch somewhere,” Nesta replied, staring intently at the map of the River House in the middle of the table, considering, as they all had over the months, where things went wrong.

“Rhys wouldn’t do that. He’s not stupid. And he wouldn’t risk Feyre’s safety knowing they have a huge target on their backs,” Mor snapped. The longer this mystery dragged on, the worse the tension in the Inner Circle became. Tempers were rising, and as time ticked on, the stakes were getting higher and higher.

“I’m not criticising him,” Nesta retorted, “I’m just saying that everyone makes mistakes.”

“Not Rhys. Not with this,” stated Mor, who refused to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Look, we need to focus on finding out who did it. If we find them, we find Feyre and Rhysand,” Amren insisted. She was sick of it. The questioning. The not knowing. But, sitting around debating what may or may not have happened was not getting them anywhere.

“There is nothing to go by! We’ve spent months and months going over the same few clues, and we’ve still come up with nothing,” Cassian growled.

“Well, what do you want to do boy, give up?” Amren glared in Cassian’s direction, as he shrunk in his seat and began shaking his head profusely.

“No! I would never give up on finding them. If it took three centuries, I’d keep searching. But we need a better plan. What we are doing isn’t working. Sitting around here day after day bickering amongst ourselves is useless!”

“He’s right,” argued Elain, speaking out for the first time that day. “Turning on each other isn’t going to help, and we have been going over and over this with a fine toothcomb for weeks and still come up with nothing. We seriously need to think about reaching out to the other courts for help.”

“No,” Amren scowled.

“Amren, please!” Mor begged. They had been trying to convince her of this for weeks. Bringing in members of outside courts. Asking for their assistance, for their best minds and their advice. No matter what they said, everytime Amren’s answer remained the same.

“I said no. It’s bad enough that the Illyrians and Hewn City are using this as an opportunity to cause problems. We are not letting the other courts know how seriously this is impacting the Night Court. If Autumn knew how bad things have become, they would take every advantage against us.”

“We aren’t suggesting we talk to Beron, but Helion has already offered his assistance in any way possible. A fresh set of eyes might be exactly what we need. We know him. We can trust him. Rhys and Feyre trust him!” Mor protested.

“This remains a Night Court issue. We will not lean on other courts unless we become desperate. Helion may be a trustworthy ally, but how do we know that one of his court members isn’t responsible for this.”

“The Illyrians are spreading lies about our High Lord and Lady which half of the court is starting to believe. Hewn City residents freely walk our streets causing chaos everywhere they go. Our friends are gone, and we have no idea where to even start Amren. It’s been five months. It can’t get much more desperate than this,” Azriel pleaded, and was met with a hard stare.

“I’ll think about it,” Amren mumbled. The entire room sighed, but they knew better than to argue. From Amren, an I’ll think about it was the best they would ever get.

The meeting continued for a further two hours, with Cassian reporting back on his trouble keeping the Illyrians in check, and Azriel interjecting with his own issues locating missing Hewn City members. Elain informed the group of her success in sourcing a group of trusty elderly Night Court fae to keep watch for any suspicious activity, and Nesta detailed the searches that the Valkyries and Mor had performed that week along the southern border in their efforts to locate Feyre and Rhysand.

After delegating a series of tasks to each member of the Inner Circle, Amren finally called the meeting to an end, and everyone slumped out of the river house to get started on their orders as soon as possible. Morale was at an all-time low, and the clock was ticking on their opportunity to find Rhysand and Feyre.

Glancing across the dining room, Amren’s eyes fell upon the portrait that hung above the smooth marble fireplace. Shortly before their disappearance, Feyre had presented Rhysand with a painting of the Inner Circle, crafted from a memory of them all sitting around the dinner table, drinking, laughing. Rhys and his mate were front and center, and he was looking towards her with a level of adoration that one would assume impossible to achieve unless they had seen it with their own eyes.

Amren’s head was beginning to ache. The one thing that comforted her was that she knew Rhysand and Feyre were at least alive. If not, the magic of the Night Court would have already assigned someone else the role of High Lord or Lady. For now, they remained living, but she was well aware that did not necessarily mean they were safe, or that they weren’t on borrowed time. Amren felt the weight of her decisions heavily on her shoulders, and the pressure was starting to become unbearable.

Rhysand

Scotland, United Kingdom

Rhysand flipped the flimsy sign from open to closed and started checking off his nightly tasks. Every evening for the last five months had been the same. Close up. Check. Wipe the tables. Check. Mop the floors, take out the bins, and empty the dishwasher. Check. Check. Check.

However, despite the monotony, Rhysand was unbelievably grateful to Doug and Jenny for not only giving him a place to stay whilst he got back on his feet, but also trusting him to work at their beloved cafe. The Humble Pie was a quaint spot, which specialized in delicious homemade fruit pastries and a variety of fancy herbal teas. Jenny had a knack for baking, and after retiring, she decided it was finally time to follow her dream and open a place of her own with Doug to share her delightful creations. It didn’t pay a lot, but it was enough that within a few months Rhysand was able to rent a small flat around the corner, and even put away a few savings for a rainy day.

Rhysand was well aware that he owed the Caldwells a lot. If it wasn’t for them he had no idea where he would have ended up. The thought often occurred to him - mainly in the middle of the night - that the woman he heard crying out in his memory of the attack may not be so lucky. Was she alone? Was she scared? Did she have any memories of that night? Or, like Rhysand, was she living with scraps of memories that haunted her. Every time the girl came to mind, Rhysand’s stomach twisted. After months he still couldn’t shake the pain that echoed through his body at the thought of her in danger. It was a strange reaction, something he was well aware of, which is how he knew she must be important. There is no way his very soul would ache so violently at the mere thought of a stranger. No, she was different, and Rhysand had made it his mission to find her.

Today was Friday, the one day a week that Rhysand’s search for the anonymous girl from his dreams was put on pause due to his boss’s obsession with getting him to socialise. On Friday’s, Doug insisted that he walked Rhysand home and they shared a few beers and a takeaway. Rhysand was not a fan of beer, and leaving his research untouched for the whole night was always a real struggle, but this was the compromise Doug had offered forward after Rhys continually turned down his invites to join his birdwatching club. So, for Doug’s sake Rhys held off from obsessing over articles and reports for one night a week.

Walking into Rhysand’s flat, Doug stalled near the sofa, taking in the state the flat had become. Each week he visited, Doug observed how research was strewn across the coffee table and occasionally lined the walls, but it seemed as though Rhysand had taken it to another level. An explosion of papers lined every surface. Some sheets were covered with hurried annotations, others were severely dog-eared, and a rather large pile appeared to have scorch marks along one side. The place was a wreck, and the sad thing was that Rhysand didn’t even seem to care. Doug didn’t think that Rhys was a particularly messy person by nature. He was always presentable, and even appeared to have a habit of consistently checking his clothes for lint, but his obsession with solving the mystery of the girl from his memories was taking over his life.

Two months after he woke up in that alleyway, Rhysand had become tired of waiting for the police to find any leads on what happened to him. With very little information and no one coming forward to report Rhysand missing, there wasn’t much they could do, so Rhys’s case was pushed to the bottom of the pile for more pressing matters. The final nail in the coffin was when Rhysand insisted that they needed to search for the woman whose screams he remembered, concerned she could still be in trouble, but as his memory was so shaky and there was no evidence of anyone else missing or injured in the area, it was written off by police and doctors alike that the woman was likely just a part of his mind playing tricks on him, a side effect of his memory loss. After that, Rhys took the situation into his own hands.

“Jeez Rhys, what the hell happened in here. I swear these papers multiply every time I come round,”

“Yeah, things are a bit chaotic at the moment,” Rhysand said, quickly swiping some research from the sofa before Doug threw himself down. “But I swear I’m right on the cusp of something.”

“Why does half of it look like it was set on fire?” Doug enquired, looking pointedly at the singed pile.

“Ah, that would be because it almost was. I wasn’t getting anywhere with it, so I thought about throwing it into the fire. I didn’t, but I got a little close, and it caught alight. Nearly burnt my fingertips off with that one,” Rhys chuckled nervously.

“So, you’re still intent on finding the girl then?”

“Look Doug, I know you think I’m crazy, but I-”

“Hey I don’t,” Doug interrupted, “Extremely disorganised and slightly obsessive sure, but I get it. If I was in the same situation, I can’t say I wouldn’t drown myself in paperwork to figure out who I was too,”

Rhys hummed looking down at his feet, knowing exactly what was coming. This was not the first time that Doug had tried to have this conversation.

“Do you not think you should take a little break from it though? You know, come back with fresh eyes and all that?”

“No,” Rhys replied firmly.

“No?”

“I do that, and I might miss something, and anyway, I can’t waste time. She could be in trouble, and I need to know who I am,”

“You know you might have more luck if you tried the internet. I know you’re more old school and seem to be weirdly bad at technology, but you could check through stuff so much faster online,” Doug suggested.

“I don’t know,” Rhys replied, skeptical about tackling the web again.

Doug had tried to set Rhys up with a phone the first week he lived with him, but technology was clearly not his strong suit. For some reason, Rhys was incredibly intimidated by the internet and still hadn’t come to terms with the TV, never mind texting or searching for things on Google.

“You’ll be able to check a much bigger area, much faster. All this research is local news. You never know, she might be further afield,”

“Fine. But you’ll have to help me,” Rhys gave in.

After half an hour of vigorous searching on Doug’s phone, they came across an interesting article from only three months prior.

“Young Woman Appeals to Find Family After Memory Loss Shock.

Two months ago, a young woman believed to be in her early twenties was found injured and unconscious on the streets of New York City, after what police presume was a robbery gone wrong. After being rushed to a nearby hospital, it was soon discovered that she was suffering from amnesia and could not recall her own name, history, or anything relating to the incident.

It was believed initially that the victim's family would eventually contact police about her whereabouts, especially considering she was found wearing an engagement ring. However, no family has ever come forward, leaving detectives to believe that the victim could have potentially lost contact with her loved ones shortly before the incident. The woman - who is currently known as Jane Doe - is now appealing nationwide for any potential friends or family to come forward to identify her.”

Rhysand was holding his breath. The dates aligned. This woman was found on the exact day that Rhys was discovered unconscious in the alleyway. Skimming through the rest of the article, Rhys was desperate to find any information to prove that it wasn’t just a weird coincidence, when a small photograph amidst the writing caught his attention.

A young woman with beautiful blue eyes stared back from Doug’s phone, and Rhys could have sworn his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He knew her. He didn’t know how, but he recognized the blush on her cheeks, the delicate shape of her lips, the swirling tattoos that graced her arms and hands. Rhysand knew her in his soul, and at that moment her name simply fell from his lips.

“Feyre,” Rhys gasped.

The name reverberated around his body. Feyre. He knew her. He had found her. Images began to flood his mind. Broken and twisted, but there nonetheless. Feyre angry, throwing something his way. Feyre embracing him with a tenderness he felt in his very bones. Feyre holding his hand, a dazzling ring adorning her finger. Dancing. Making love to him. Laughing. Crying. Feyre. Feyre. His Feyre.

“What?” Asked Doug, surprised.

“It’s her. That girl, that’s her. I - I remember,” tears were spilling from Rhysand’s eyes, and he was so overwhelmed he didn’t care he was breaking down in front of his friend for the first time since his ordeal had begun.

“What, you remember everything?”

“No, I remember her. Not anything specific, and it’s all a jumbled mess, but its there. Doug I’ve found her,”

“Rhys are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, when I said she might be further afield, I meant Edinburgh or maybe even Glasgow at a push. I didn’t mean three thousand miles away. It’s impossible that it’s more than a coincidence, surely?”

“Doug. I know it in my soul. It is her.” Rhys retorted, desperately refusing to let go of the hope which blossomed in his chest.

“Okay, okay I believe you,” Doug replied quickly, holding his hands up in surrender. Rhys wasn’t so sure he really did, but he was too focused on the situation at hand to continue pleading his case.

“So what are you going to do?”

“I have to go. I have to find her.” Rhys cried, running his fingers through his dark hair in frustration.

“You want to go to New York. Just like that. Rhys, you really need to think this through. You don’t know where this girl lives. Do you even have a passport?”

“No. I don’t know where she lives, but look at the bottom it says to contact a … Detective Bailey,” Rhys said squinting at the rest of the article. “This detective will know how to find her. If I can get to see her then maybe she’ll take me to Feyre. She’s looking for family, and I’m … well, I’m obviously something to her.”

“But-”

“And the passport thing is fine. The police sorted me out with all that stuff when I first woke up,”

“Look, Rhys, I really don’t think you’re thinking this through,”

“I need you to trust me. Please!” Doug took in the look of genuine hope in Rhysand’s eyes and knew he couldn’t bring himself to take that away.

“Okay. Alright, I trust you.”

Doug spent the next hour helping to plan what Rhys should do next, he helped book the plane tickets and even offered him a ride to the airport the next day.

After Doug left for the night, Rhysand stood by the window, staring out at the glistening lights in the night sky. For the first time since waking up, Rhys felt like he could look to the stars and dream.

Feyre (aka Jane Doe)

New York, USA

“Damn it, I can’t do it,” cried Frank slamming his brush down onto the paint-splattered work table and crossing his arms in defiance.

“Hey, Frank what’s the matter? You’re doing so well,” Jane responded gently, sitting down by the disgruntled pensioner.

“How am I supposed to paint a damn picture when I can’t keep my arms still!” Frank huffed.

“I know it’s difficult, and you’re still building up your strength, but that’s okay. These sessions are to help you do that,” Jane advised, placing her tattooed hand comfortingly over Frank’s. “It’s frustrating not to be able to jump back up and do everything with the ease you used to, but you just need to take your time.”

Jane had been working at the art therapy center since she had been discharged from their services two months prior. Her doctors had recommended art therapy to help Jane heal her mind and potentially stir some memories. While it didn’t appear to conjure anything new recollection-wise, she had found art to be an incredible escape from the anxiety she felt nagging her all hours of the day.

After unsuccessfully appealing in a national newspaper, and also online, for any information on potential family members, the distraction of painting helped to ease some of the ache in her soul. After seeing Jane’s aptitude for painting and her willingness to help other patients, the therapist in charge offered her the opportunity to help run art therapy sessions, and she hadn’t looked back since.

Frank had been one of her first patients. He had come in after suffering from a stroke, and his doctors were hopeful that art sessions would help to improve his physical condition. Jane had bonded with the man immediately. He had made vast strides already, but she understood his irritation with the knowledge that he wasn’t progressing as quickly as he would like.

“How about you and me take a quick coffee break and then try again in a while, huh? I brought your favorite cookies!” Jane singsonged.

“Oh, go on, you know how to tempt me,” Frank chuckled as Jane led him out to the break room.

Half an hour later, when Frank was stuffed full of Oreos and had settled back down to his canvas, Jane wandered over to a client she had never seen before.

Erica was young, maybe only a year or two older than Jane herself, and she was dressed in the loveliest shade of lilac Jane had ever seen. It wasn’t her appearance however which stopped Jane in her tracks, but the painting which sat before her. An expanse of pastel-coloured roses, violets, and begonias, amongst other delicate florals graced the canvas, and something about the soft warmth of the gardens before her, sent Jane into a tailspin. Jane was immediately transported into what could only be a memory. She was surrounded by creaky wooden walls that let in the bitter cold of winter. Her hands had gone numb in the short while she had been painting, and crouching at such odd angles had stiffened her limbs. Before her sat an old dresser with three distinct drawers, which Jane had spent the evening decorating. One was consumed by red and orange flames, another adorned with the night sky, and the last … the last was covered with little flowers, just like those in Erica’s painting. They were much more crudely drawn, but beautiful nonetheless.

“Please, I swear I’ll keep it clean this time!” A voice begged. Soft and gentle as a feather in the breeze. Jane recognized the warm lilt, but she just couldn’t put her finger on exactly who the voice belonged to.

“Absolutely not. The last time you borrowed my cloak, it came back covered in soil. I’m not lending you any of my clothes if you insist on gardening in them!” Another voice argued. It was far more stern than the last one, leaving little room for argument. The determined tone of the second speaker left something aching in Jane’s chest. She knew this voice too. But how?

“Well, mine finally fell apart this morning. I need something to stop me from freezing to death while I weed the garden,” the first person uttered, frustration lacing their voice.

“I’m not your only sister you know. Ask Feyre for hers.”

Jane felt as though her heart had jumped into her mouth. At that exact moment, something within her stirred, and she recalled two things, the first things she had remembered about herself since the day she lost her memory. First, was that she had sisters, two of them! Somewhere out there, a family of her own. The second was that her name was not the hospital-assigned Jane Doe, but Feyre Archeron.

Finishing her shift with her nerves all over the place, Feyre practically ran out of the door and back home to her cramped apartment. Rushing into her bedroom, she grabbed the nearest blank canvas, and began to desperately paint the drawers from her memory in the fear that the vision would fade from view. An hour and a half later, covered head to toe in paint, Feyre stared longingly at the image before her and finally allowed herself to let out a sob.

Tears streaming down her face, Feyre reached into the drawer of her wonky bedside table and carefully located a cloth-bound object. Gently unwrapping the purple fabric, a small but stunning ring fell into the palm of her shaking hand.

She had a family. Sisters, and by the looks of it a partner. So why had they still not come to find her? The past five months had been filled with hope after hope shattered. First, the discovery of a mystery lover who never showed up. Then, her appeal for her family to come forward came to nothing too. Feyre initially wondered if she didn’t have any family at all, maybe that was the reason nobody had tried to find her. However, this latest revelation suggested that she did have a family, but they clearly weren’t interested in locating her.

A burning knot formed in Feyre’s chest. Why wouldn’t they come? Was she a terrible person in her past life? Had she done something that caused everyone she once knew to turn away from her?

Looking through her bedroom window at the few stars that cut through the city’s light pollution, Feyre tried to control her breathing and tucked away her heartbreak for another day. The lack of starlight caused a strange sense of discomfort in Feyre’s gut, as though some part of her knew she belonged in a land that thrived under ethereal skies.

Feyre sat for hours, staring out of that window, completely unaware that three thousand miles away, the love of her life was also enduring the torture of missing a life he barely remembered.

16 notes · View notes

foxybananaaaz · 7 months

Text

For those who are just as impatient about Lucien learning about his patentage as me. This is for you. Also for @lucienweekofficial

All my love and gratitude,

Shae

Below the cut, you will find the titles for each part, summaries, and prompts given for that day of Lucien Week 2023.

Starting Over

Summary :: Lucien reminisces on his past, bouncing from home to home, until he has an unexpected chat with Elain.

For

Day One,

October 8 - Exile

Lucien has had a lot of homes in his life, from Autumn, to Spring, to Night and the human lands. No one place seems quite like home.

Adjustments

Summary :: Lucien tries to convince Helion to let him tweak the Day Court Attire for himself.

For

Day Two,

October 9 - Style

No matter where Lucien goes, he maintains an impeccable sense of style.

Masquerade

Summary :: After reminiscing on his past, a nightmare causes Lucien to wake up in the middle of the night and stand under the stars to reassure himself, though he is not alone.

For

Day Three,

October 10 - Masks

From the real to the metaphorical- Lucien wears a lot of masks depending on the circumstances. He's earned his reputation as a fox.

Acting Tough

Summary :: Lucien is incredibly Nervous before he walks into the River House one afternoon.

For

Day Four,

October 11 - Courtier & Emissary

Lucien introduces himself to Feyre Archeron as a courtier and emissary, a title he upholds throughout the series.

Falling Apart

Summary :: Concerns over Helions' decision sets things in motion sooner than expected.

For

Day Five,

October 12 - Family

From the family he left behind in Autumn, to his friends in the Spring and Night Court, and the human's he's chosen to live with (and the father he may or may not know about in Day), Lucien's blood and chosen family are scattered throughout Prythian.

Coming Together

Summary :: Elain has made a decision about her future.

For

Day Six,

October 13 - Romance

From past to present, do you see Lucien with a romantic partner?

In the Afternoon

Summary :: Lucien reminisces on his past with Elain.

For

Day Seven,

October 14 - Free Day

The sky is the limit- the only thing stopping you is your imagination. Go ahead and put Lucien Vanserra in whatever fun little situation you want.

#LucienWeek2023 #lucien vanserra #acotar #A Court of Thorns and Roses #Sarah J Maas #elucien #elain archeron

9 notes · View notes

a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire · 4 months

Text

Alright, holidays are over and Im regularly taking the bus again so its time to read A Court of Mist and Fury. I've made through the prologue and the first three chapters and I feel like I already have a lot of thoughts so Im splitting them into two posts. This one is just gonna be random silly bullshit that I wanted to mention but dont have any deep thoughts on, the next one is gonna be my thoughts about the character development that happened between the books

why does Sarah J Maas always seem to use the vaguely pagan (?) moon and moon cycle imagery when theres like, an all-woman religious institution in her books. Like, Ianthe has that tattoo on her forehead and shes dressed in blue robes and wears a lot of silver and it reminded me of that one random aside in Crescent City where we hear about those priestesses that worship the goddess Luna, like with the robes and headbands and stuff, when theyre first initiated they get a headband with a waxing crescent moon, then when theyre at their peak they get one with a full moon and when they get older they get one with a waning crescent. Like, obviously I know that the moon is associated with with witchcraft and feminine magic and whatnot so it makes sense in a doylist sense, but like, whats the in-universe explanation

You know what, maybe I do have deep thoughts about some of this stuff, what the hell is up with the High Priestesses? Theres twelve of them ?? for some reason?? Theyre said to be the advisors of the high lords on top of their religious duties, so if there were gonna be more than seven, I would think there would be 14, two for each court. But they actually appear to be wholly seperate, like they just dont belong to any particular court. And thats weird to me, but Prythian is technically one united kingdom (get it, cuz the map looks like fucking great britain for some reason) despite some of their inter-court tension so maybe that makes sense. But then WHY do they have such a Night Court-core aesthetic, wearing dark blue (night sky) and silver (stars) with tattoos. If they were an institution thats completely seperate from the courts, I feel like they should use imagery/an aesthetic thats not already kinda taken by another court. Like, idk, rainbows maybe, thats the only thing I can think of rn and it could also make them a symbol of Prythian's unity or something

This is only tangentially related, but how come the Night Court doesnt seem to have any moon imagery associated with it? I say seem to because I havent actually seen it yet, but from the fanart and from what I can remember from cari can read's summary, its all stars and darkness and dreams but not the moon??? which is the thing I personally associate most with night but okay

I was not expecting a sex scene in the first three chapters and I was especially not expecting Feyre to describe her having an orgasm as "I passed away". Granted, that might just be the german translation being weird, I dont have access to the original english but still. Then again, I guess they dont call it the little death for nothing

Speaking of the sex scene, I thought the people saying this were joking but no, she was literally asking him about the political implications of their marriage on some random ass night while they were getting it on, thats hilarious. And then she got TURNED OFF when Tamlin told her there werent any high ladies this series shouldve been a comedy

Last thing I wanted to mention is the use of the formal and informal yous in the translation, which is still really good. As a reminder, du/dir = informal you; Sie/Ihnen = formal you; Euch/Ihren = the most formal you, usually reserved for nobility. Feyre used Euch/Ihren for all the high fae in the first book (atleast for the first half, I havent really kept track of the pronoun usuage), Tamlin and Lucien used du/dir for Feyre, Alis used Euch/Ihren for Feyre. In this book, all the servants still refer to her by Euch/Ihren but Feyre, Tamlin and Lucien are all on a du/dir basis with each other now. Also, Feyre uses Euch/Ihren for Ianthe and honestly, that alone says so much about how important she is within the court, I feel like I didnt even need an explanation of what exactly she does, but this book was written in english qhere they dont have that so I get it

#acotar critical #anti acomaf #flames and darkness liveblog #anti acotar

3 notes · View notes

ae-neon · 1 year

Note

Hello! I really like your blog and am interested in what you'll do with the ACOTAR universe via your rewrite. It's been really fun to follow! The question I wanted to ask would be along the lines of how the High Lords got bound to Amarantha and whether or not you want/plan to change it. In canon Alis jumps into this boring essay about how there was a ball and a toast and something was in the High Lords drink and bla bla bla. But that just felt unsatisfying and... unbelieveable? It just seems hard to imagine that all seven High Lords, especially one like BERON (I mean c'mon have we met the guy?) would fall for it. Tamlin and Rhys are both mentioned to have been suspicious, but you're telling me BERON, the oldest, scummiest, slimiest, male who lived through the war and probably witnessed Amarantha during her high general years, would fall for it? I assume that being the oldest High Lord means something! Cruelty, cunning, something! And that's not mentioning the other High Lords who are, at this point, mostly older than Tamlin and probably have the political savvy, familarity, and know how of faerie tricks and culture? Amarantha was known for her cruelty and prowess as the high general of Hybern. There is no way any of them, aside from just TWO, wouldn't be suspicious.

Also, I have to ask if you plan to fix the Alis info dump where all of this is revealed. I love Alis, but the writing choices in this series are questionable to say the least.

Sorry for this essays like ask! Love you and good luck on that rewrite!

Hello anon

Amazing question. I'm going to answer it fully because most of it is context and lore rather than plot (which is essentially the same as the first acotar book anyways)

But if you consider this spoilers for the acotar rewrite : A Grave of Thorns and Roses then be warned!

There is one key changes to make Amarantha becoming High Queen of a foreign fairy kingdom - especially one with 7 HLs believable: A lot of this power was voluntarily given.

Now how I tackled this is

Amarantha is not just a Hybernian general she is the KoH's daughter. Clythia is her twin.

Hybern is a city state rather than a huge nation. The island sits on a magical hotspot so the Fae there have specialised in sorcery and are feared and reviled for it

Clythia was an emissary working in Prythian. She was especially charming and helped their reputation

When the tide of the war changed, an alliance of certain courts turned to Hybern for help and Amarantha came with a host

Also I have tweaked the timeline. Beron was a young man during the war and is the only surviving HL of that era

That way when Amarantha defeats Jurian but refuses to leave Prythian, there really isn't anyone who can stop her. They gave their power and she helped them 🤷🏻‍♀️

There's other stuff but that goes into more unique spoilers so I won't say but I hope this was enough to answer your question!!

Edit: I forgot about the Alis part!

Alis is more Feyre's chaperone in this so she'll at least have space to spread her dialogue out 😒 but I don't think most of it'll be revealed by her anyways

#anon asks #acotar : the rewrite #acotar #a grave of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction

10 notes · View notes

draguta · 1 year

Text

.a court of ash and smoke | masterlist.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

summary: five years before feyre archeron ever stepped foot in prythian, another human girl found herself in the spring court. but the trials and tribulations of her time under the mountain left her with nothing but a certain red-headed high fae emissary, who had once resented her entire presence, to help and guide her.

series warnings: 18+, minors DNI, smut, non-con, dub-con, suicide, suicidal thoughts, ptsd, character death, canon-level violence, slight enemies to lovers.

🩸 book two: a court of fate and fortune 🩸

🩸 series moodboard 🩸 series playlist 🩸 character profiles 🩸

❤️ indicates smut

please remember to reblog, like, and share a comment if you enjoy this series - it is always appreciated by writers to see their hard work valued.

🩸 tip jar 🩸 🩸 tag list 🩸

prologue

one - under the mountain

two - ash arrow

three - the curse

four - feyre

five - riddles

six - middengard wyrm

seven - dungeons

eight - outside

nine - dark light

ten - the aftermath

eleven - home

twelve - nightmares

thirteen - i see you

fourteen - lilies

fifteen - silas

sixteen - chest pains

seventeen - day court

eighteen - rejection

nineteen ❤️ - rhysand

twenty - old magic of prythian

twenty-one - winter solstice

twenty-two - apple kisses

twenty-three ❤️ - mate

twenty-four ❤️ - the bench

twenty-five - munera

twenty-six - power

twenty-seven - velaris

397 notes · View notes

houseofhurricane · 2 years

Text

Today I want to talk about something fun: pegasi* in Crescent City and A Court of Silver Flames.

There’s a reason I’m not talking about pegasi and the Maasverse generally, because, believe it or not, before House of Earth and Blood, SJM never mentions a single pegasus. That’s right, the first pegasus is Peaches and Dreams, mentioned on page 397 of the hardcover US edition of HOEAB. (If we want to get technical, Jelly Jubillee, a unicorn-pegasus, might take the title -- she’s mentioned on page 396.) That’s the only scene in which we get any whiff of pegasi in HOEAB. It’s one of the most delightful scenes in the novel, but it’s nothing significant.

Then comes A Court of Silver Flames. First, we get the pegasi when Helion makes his glorious entrance to the Night Court. Here’s what we learn about the pegasi at that point:

The winged horses were rare -- so rare that it was said Helion’s seven breeding pairs of flying horses were the only ones left. Lore held that there had once been far more of them before recorded history, and that most had just vanished, as if they’d been devoured by the sky itself. Their population had dwindled further in the last thousand years, for reasons no one could explain. (ACOSF, 420)

That’s intriguing as it is, especially given what we know about Prythian in HOSAB. “Devoured by the sky itself” sounds like an ominous fate for these pegasi, and the phrase sounds like it could be pointing to the Asteri. And what has caused the population to decline further over the last thousand years? Could it be tied to larger forces in realms outside of Prythian?

But returning to ACOSF, let’s not forget the only other times that the pegasi are mentioned again in the novel: by the Valkyries, first during their sleepover when Nesta summons a miniature pegasus, and then during this charming bit of banter:

“Do it for the miniature pegasus,” Emerie said. Cassian had no idea what it meant, but Gwyn’s lips twitched upward. Nesta laughed. The sound might as well have been a lightning strike to his head for how much it rocked him, that laugh. Free and light and so unlike anything he’d ever heard from her that even Azriel blinked. A true laugh. “The miniature pegasus,” Nesta said, “was an illusion. And is now back in his make-believe meadow.” “He loved Gwyn most,” Emerie teased. “Despite all your efforts to woo him.” (621)

Now, this might just be cute back-and-forth... but just a few lines later, Gwyn cuts the ribbon and becomes a Valkyrie.

According to Norse mythology, Valkyries rode winged horses. They’re technically not pegasi (that name comes from Greek mythology), but SJM has collapsed quite a few mythologies together in Midgard and in Prythian. Could it be that our Prythian Valkyries will be riding winged horses? Only, they’re rare -- they mysteriously disappeared. So unless they’re able to persuade Helion, this seems unlikely, right?

This brings me to House of Sky and Breath. Pegasi are only mentioned twice, and briefly, but these few lines are enough, I think, to point to ways that these two series could tie together. First, in the opening chapter when Bryce and company are at the ballet:

“Bryce,” her mom called, pointing to the frieze before her. “Check out this one. It’s JJ.” Bryce looked up from her phone and grinned. “Badass warrior Jelly Jubilee.” There, hanging on the wall, was a rendering of a pegasus -- though not a unicorn-pegasus, like Bryce’s childhood toy -- charging into battle. An armored figure, helmet obscuring any telltale features, rode atop the beast, sword upward. Bryce snapped a photo and sent it to Hunt. First Wars JJ, reporting for duty! (HOSAB, 32)

This raises some important questions: could the pegasi from Prythian have disappeared through a portal when the other Fae came to Midgard (or at a future point)? Could that armored figure be a Valkyrie? Could this frieze be both history and prophecy?

That might sound a bit ridiculous given the quick paragraph, but I want to draw your attention to the only other time that pegasi are mentioned in HOSAB:

Hunt said, “I thought thunderbirds had been hunted to extiction by the Asteri.” Too dangerous and volatile to be allowed to live was the history they’d been spoon-fed at school. A grave threat to the empire. “They’re little more than myths now.” All true. Bryce remembered a Starlight Fancy horse called Thunderbird: a blue-and-white unicorn-pegasus who could wild all types of energy. She’d never gotten her hands on one, though she’d wanted to. (133)

At this point, it seems pretty clear to me that these Starlight Fancy horses are pointing to something larger, and that SJM may be using their charm as a way to help us keep track of them. If the Thunderbird horse points to the existence of the Thunderbirds themselves -- and I do think that Thunderbirds are going to have continued importance as Bryce and co work to overthrow the Asteri -- then what could the other Starlight Fancies signify? Is it possible that Peaches and Cream or Jelly Jubilee are a reference to the ancient Valkyries, the ones who were wiped out in the war that changed Prythian 500 years before ACOTAR begins?

Or, could these winged horses be a sign that we might see Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie in Midgard, the Valkyries reborn and saving the multiverse? I can’t say for certain, but I know that I’ll be keeping an eye on the pegasi and the Valkyries. They both seem to have significance for upcoming books, and I’m hoping that they’ll find their destinies together.

* Listen, I know that SJM uses the plural “pegasuses,” but either plural is correct and pegasi sounds so much better.

#house of sky and breath theory #valkyries #pegasi #bryce quinlan #helion spell cleaver #nesta archeron #gwyneth berdara #emerie of illyria #pegasus #starlight fancies #jelly jubilee #house of sky and breath spoilers #a court of silver flames

24 notes · View notes