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fourthwing4ever · 2 months ago

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I love it so much!!

Would That I -- Part 111

A/N: This took me forever. But it's finally here! The grand finale of this trilogy! I have loved working on this so much and a huge thank you to @fandomsmultiverse for helping me brainstorm ideas, simp over Eris and generally supporting this series!

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, choking, violence, angst, pining, mushy gushy people in love

Pairings: Eris x Illyrian!Reader

Summary: After your big fight with Rhys, Eris is sent to the Night Court by his father. Beaten down, he wonders if this mating bond will ever work out. You are starting to wonder if you ever really hated him in the first place...

Part 1, Part 2

Letters were piling up on Eris’s desk and none of them were from you. His whole room had been thrown into disarray; clothes thrown haphazardly over a chair, unwashed mugs abandoned on his night-stand. He stepped over a discarded sock to pick up a book from his desk, flicking through it, then putting it down with a huff.

He couldn’t concentrate on anything. You had been the only thing on his mind for three weeks. Three whole weeks. No contact, no letters, nothing. Eris had erred on the side of caution and refrained from reaching out either. Not after you had left him – dick still wet with your spit – standing in the woods with no one but his dogs. Your mouth had been the focus of every late night fantasy since then. The way you had gagged and drooled on his cock, looking up through your lashes with those lust blown eyes.

Since then he hadn’t left the palace. Cheddar scratched at his door frantically. He hadn’t even ventured out of the Forest House to walk her recently, the memory of walking with you, fighting with you, fucking you, too fresh in his mind. He moved to the door to let her in, expecting her excited bound and compulsory lap of his room. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was his brother Tanwen standing outside of his doorway, looking grieved.

“Tandie.” He greeted, leaning against the doorframe. Tanwen bit his lip, and Eris steeled himself for whatever was about to come next.

“Eris.” Tanwen began, “Beron requests your presence in the council meeting.” He said, eyes darting about Eris’ unkempt room. Eris stood up straight to block the view.

“Haven’t you been taking my place in meetings this week?” He asked, “Surely you’re not doing that badly, are you?” He meant it as a mean jab, but he couldn’t help the concern that crept in as well. Tanwen huffed, crossing his arms.

“No. Father just prefers you to be there.” He said carefully. Eris suspected there was more to it than that, and let out a resigned sigh. If he declined now, Tanwen would be in the firing line for Beron’s wrath, but if he went, there would be no avoiding the punishment sure to come for his idleness.

“Ok. But take the dogs out please.” He said, scratching the top of Cheddars head, who had trotted up to his side and was looking between them, clearly hoping for a walk. Tanwen nodded, relieved. As Eris started down the corridor, Tanwen called after him,

“Eris.” He turned, and saw Tanwen leaning in the doorway, one hand on Cheddars collar, “Good luck.”

Eris smiled. It was commonly believed across Prythian that he and his brothers hated each other. That they competed like gladiators for the crown. It wasn’t wholly unfounded. Ceres and Fallon, poisoned by their father, had believed the vitriol he spewed about the game of succession. But Eris, significantly older than his brothers, had had a hand in raising every one of them, even those that had died in their father’s name.

Making his way down the winding corridors, anxiety was beginning to eat away at Eris. The Forest House had been designed to perplex and disorient it’s visitors. Like a foxes den, it sprawled for miles, with high ceilings and ornate panelling engraved with fighting animals. Into the coving of the sweeping council room were carved the eyes of every High Lord who had come before Beron. They watched as Eris stepped in past the guards. They seemed to follow him across the hall, until he took his place at Beron’s right hand.

Eris expected confrontation right then and there, for his father to put him in his place in front of the courtiers and rich gentry males who had been his judges and jury since childhood. But it never came. The meeting went as smoothly and uneventfully as it could have done. Every passing moment seemed to hang in mid-air, as if something were about to drop. Why were there no arguments? No degrading comments or prying questions? Beron seemed almost in a good mood. Eris was sure there was no way it would last.

The meeting ended, the members of the council filed out, and Eris stood to leave. But Beron stopped him with the lift of a finger. Dread crept up on him as he slowly sank back into his chair. Beron walked calmly to the guard posted at the council room doors and Eris watched like a hawk as he took something from him. A book. The cover was immediately recognisable to Eris, it had been his favourite. A collection of childhood Faerie Tales. Bedtime stories from when he was younger, more hopeful. He wished he had thrown it out years ago.

“You know. I have come to expect laziness from my disappointing offspring.” Beron stated coolly as he stopped at the table across from Eris, “But I would never have expected it from you.”

Eris fought the shiver that wanted to run through him. You. Never his name, never anything to differentiate him from the six others Beron had sired in the hopes one might surpass him.

“How many weeks have you shirked your responsibilities to this court?” Beron asked. Eris knew by now that it wasn’t rhetorical.

“Three weeks.” He hoped his voice didn’t shake as his father inspected the book with disdain.

“Three weeks, what?” A flame flickered from his fathers finger, and approached the corner of a page. Eris swallowed.

“Three weeks, High Lord.”

Beron hummed cruelly. “Anyone would think something is bothering you, boy. I might start to think you’ve found something more important than your Court.” Eris felt the threat for what it was. The flame grew higher, and he watched helplessly as the edge of the page began to burn. “I will find out what it is,” Eris didn’t doubt that for a second. “But first, you need a little motivation to fix your disgusting laziness.”

With a click of his fingers the book was engulfed in flames. The pages curled and burned, turning black and then to ash. Eris bit back the tears that would betray his weakness. He couldn’t help but shove the rage, the shame, the grief, straight down his bond to you, unable to close his emotions off. A flicker of worry answered him. His first sign of you since that day in the woods. He had long since assumed he had chased you away. The knowledge that you were still there, that you cared, broke him. A tear slipped down his cheek and he saw the moment that Beron noticed it, a cruel smile widening on his flame lit face.

“Weak.” He spat, “Soft. Unworthy of this throne.”

Eris hung his head.

“I will no longer tolerate your weakness in this Court. I have already sent word to Lord Rhysand, you are to take an extended Courtiers visit. Cement our alliance with the Night Court, and perhaps you will have shown me you have what it takes to run ours.”

The tasks were the same every time. Prove his worth. Prove he was strong enough to take over. As if Beron would have a choice in the end. Eris passed every test with flying colours yet it was never enough. Usually he approached them with anger, but this time all he felt was relief. He could leave. And leave he would. He nodded, ducking his head deferentially.

“I will make you proud.” He muttered, and before his father could comment on how unconvincing he was, he strode out of the room.

---

You hadn’t spoken to Rhysand in weeks. Even Cassian was tiptoeing around the frosty atmosphere between the two of you. You spent most of your time with Nesta and her friends, confiding with Emerie about the things he had said, and bonding over the audacity of men. You also spent more and more time with Lucien, he was becoming a close friend, someone who had the unique ability to understand you completely.

He was your confident. Many late afternoons were spent in his apartment with him listening as you vented your conflicting emotions towards his brother. He understood how it felt, to feel as if you never knew him at all when at first you were so sure you did. You had been angry, you had told him you loathed him. It was a lie to yourself as well as him.

Rhys had coloured your opinion of him so thoroughly. It couldn’t possibly line up with the male that had turned up, baby-talking his dogs and gifting you hand-knitted headbands. When you thought of you leaving him, all you could feel was guilt. You had acted on instinct, on panic, something that hadn’t truly hit you until you returned home and were faced with your brother, shaking with rage in your bedroom.

He had been livid. Truly angry at you. And he scared you. The room had filled with darkness and your desk was reduced to nothing more than a few specks of dust on the hardwood floor.

“Where. The fuck. Were you?” He growled through gritted teeth. He didn’t need to ask, what with the swirling scent of Eris still fresh in the air, but he had wanted to hear it straight from you. You steeled yourself, holding your ground. If he wanted a fight, then that is what he would get.

“It’s none of your business.” You spat, one hand on your hip, looking more confident than you felt.

“You reek of him.” He said, his voice dark. “I thought we had an agreement. I trusted you to make the right decisions.” You rolled your eyes as he pulled rank on you, holding you to words you had spoken before a war, before either of you had known if you would see each other on the other side of battle. You were locked in a stand off as his eyes bore into you, betrayal swirling in their violet depths.

“We were about to go to war, the bond had only just snapped for us. You can’t possibly hold me to that now.” You said, remembering clearly the night you had told him you wanted nothing to do with Eris Vanserra. When he had pleaded not to lose his sister to the Autumn Court.

“He is a monster.” Rhys stepped towards you, his voice raising, “You saw what he did to Mor.”

You backed away in frustration, running a hand nervously through your hair. “I saw what Kier did to Mor.” You said, wincing as Rhys’ eyes darkened, “I never saw what happened at the border, but Eris never touched her.”

“So what?” Rhys was practically shaking with anger, “What, he sends you a few courting gifts and you get on your knees for him? Suddenly he matters more to you than your family. Than me?” He growled. The letters he clasped in his fist, turned to dust.

You and Rhys had often fought as teens, petty squabbles that ended with the two of you wrestling on the floor, needing to be pulled off of each other by Az or Cassian. Now, faced with Rhys after years of training, his power fully matured, you couldn’t help but take another step back.

“I went to hear him out.” You said, knowing it was a weak excuse. Rhys sneered. He was in no place to understand. You could practically see the gears turning as he considered you ‘hearing out’ a male who had been an enemy of the Court for centuries.

“Oh, he speaks with his dick then, does he?” He goaded. You growled, and lunged at him. Sick and tired of him trying to control you. He grabbed your arm and twisted it behind you, trapping it against your wings. You hissed, and kicked backwards blindly, hitting him right where it hurts and grinning as he let go of your arm as he cried out. This is how fights always played out between you, both of you resorting to scrapping like you had done as kids.

The two of you grappled, the noise and commotion having Cassian running down the hall to your room. He looked between the two of you, confusion written plainly across his face until he caught the scent of Eris, still lingering in the air. He pulled Rhys off of you with considerable force.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” He said, “Cauldron Rhys, that’s our sister.”

Rhys scoffed.

“I don’t know if I can call her that when she’s off fucking that bastard.”

“Rhysand!” Came Feyre’s distressed voice. She ran, as much as she could in her pregnant state, to your side, Cassian still holding Rhys back. He looked disgusted. Somehow his disapproval hurt even worse.

“Did he hurt you?” Feyre asked. You knew she didn’t mean her mate. You rolled your eyes, glossy now with tears threatening to spill.

“No. I wanted to suck him off, so I did.” You said bluntly, “I’m sorry your mate thinks he can control who I fuck.”

Rhys jostled Cassian, trying to break free of his restraint. He could. If he really wanted to. If he used that almighty power coursing through his veins. But you knew he would never use it against his brother. Against you. No matter how angry he was. Feyre sighed.

“You know how we feel about Eris. We understand that he’s your mate, but, well, we thought by now you would have rejected the bond.”

You looked at her incredulously. Even Cassian winced. The tears were running down your throat, choking you. You sniffed.

“Get out.” You said quietly. Before anyone could do any more damage. Before you could feel even more guilty for betraying your family. Your voice cracked, “Just, get out!”

There was some hesitation. Cassian released Rhys who stormed from the room, Feyre following after him. Cassian lingered, and you fought the urge to let him cradle you in his arms.

“You too, Cass.” You said, tears starting to creep down your cheeks. His shoulders sagged, but he left as well. Leaving you in your room alone, finally, blessedly, alone.

You had cried all night. Confused. Frustrated. Angry. This is why you hadn’t told Rhys in the first place, knowing that as soon as he found out you would be fighting with him like two teenagers desperate to outdo each other. He always had been quick to anger, and quick to throw the first punch. But his words had cut much deeper. Could you bring yourself to reject the bond? You had heard of the madness that overtook mates who rejected each other. The deep crippling pain. You might dislike Eris, but you would never wish that upon him. Would you?

Weeks passed since the fight. Weeks passed and you still hadn’t said anything to Rhys. Too upset with his behaviour. Too guilty about your actions. The stand-off continued until he appeared in your doorway three weeks to the day, clearly to talk to you. You rolled over, ignoring him. He came into your room anyway and sat down on the bed next to you. You laid with your back turned to him whilst you waited for an explanation.

“I have received a letter from Beron Vanserra.” He said, and you supposed this was information you probably needed to know. “Eris is being sent as a courtier.”

You rolled back over and raised an eyebrow. “We are expected to treat him as we would any other courtier. Housing him, feeding him.”

He sounded every part your High Lord, but he sat on your bed with a sort of pout that was far from it. You had been through a lot together. It was difficult for you to see him as the revered Night Triumphant when you had been witness to many a childhood tantrum. You sat up and sighed.

“I’m not speaking to you.” You reminded him. He huffed.

“Beron believes us allies.” He persisted, ignoring you, “When Eris formed his bargain with us he did so under the guise of forming a powerful alliance between Night and Autumn. Beron lets him come and go because he thinks he’s aiding the Autumn Court somehow.”

You didn’t want to respond to him, you really didn’t, but Eris Vanserra was bound for the Night Court and you had too many questions.

“Where will Az go?” You asked. It was practice to put courtiers up in the Townhouse, now that Rhys and Feyre had moved to the newly built River Estate. Azriel, after finding out about your dalliance, had since moved in, leaving the room next to yours at the House of Wind empty. It had hurt. But you understood Az’s need to be alone, so you hadn’t fought him on it. Just let him go. He would come to you when he was ready.

“I’ll offer him a room at the River Estate. I’d prefer to know what he was up to anyway.”

“Of course you would.” You said, rolling your eyes. Rhys sighed. You wondered if this was when he might finally apologise for flying off the handle at you three weeks earlier.

“I’m sorry, starlight.” He said, swallowing his pride. You eyed him curiously. “Nesta told Feyre...about the risk involved with the pregnancy and I...I was scared. I came to find you but you weren’t here, I found the letters under your bed and I...I thought I was losing you, losing another sister.”

He looked ashamed, and you knew you couldn’t ignore him much longer. Not after he had almost died. Not after Seren.

“It’s not an excuse Rhys. I make my own decisions about my body.” You said, Rhys nodded. “Like it or not, Eris is my mate. I can’t possibly ignore the bond forever.”

“I just don’t want you to be trapped with a male you don’t love.”

“I know.” And you did, Rhys worried more about all of you than he needed to. “I don’t know if I can tell you what I feel for him, but, I don’t think I hate him. Not anymore.”

Rhys gave you a pained look. “I’m sorry.” His hands twitched, and you leant against his side. He let out a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you, Starlight.” He breathed, and you nuzzled closer to him.

“I love you too.”

---

Eris arrived in the Night Court a few days later. Rhys had offered him a room at the River Estate, but instead he had chosen to stay in Lucien’s small apartment, not wanting to share a house with a territorial male and his heavily pregnant wife.

Lucien was sprawled across the sofa like he had always done. It was a comfort to Eris to know that not everything had changed. The apartment was neatly kept, surprising him. Lucien’s room when he was younger had been a hazard to enter, with books and clothes strewn on the floor, bed never made. He supposed it was natural for the youngest sibling to be a bit careless, but he seemed to have fixed that now. Beron had never really cared for Lucien until he became a problem to him, so his youth had been reckless at best.

Eris looked at his brother, frowning. He looked comfortable. At home. Here, in the Night Court. He had no doubt that you had been behind settling Lucien so well.

“Well, do I get a cup of tea?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Did you bring me more of Mum’s cookies?” Lucien answered, picking at his nails. Eris gave him a sad smile and sat down in an armchair.

“Father practically kicked me out, Lu. You really think I had time to ask Mum for some cookies?”

“Ok, sorry.” Lucien said, sitting up. “Yeah. I’ll put the kettle on the stove.”

Eris watched in amusement as Lucien bustled about his small kitchen. Everything looked so domestic. He even had his own matching set of crockery. Settling into the armchair, he tried to forget about the fact that he was currently in your Court, in your city, so close he might bump into you around any corner. The bond was shimmering in his chest, bright and golden. He remembered how it had felt during the war, withered and rotten. Now the thread was no longer fraying, but woven and strong. He gave it a tentative tug, but of course it wasn’t answered.

Lucien came back with the tea and gave him a strange look.

“You’re thinking very hard about something.” He said.

“It’s nothing.”

“I don’t believe Beron would have sent you here if he wasn’t mad at you. So, what did he do?” Lucien asked. Eris was relieved he didn’t ask about the bond, but he wasn’t excited to discuss his father with Lucien either. Lucien resumed his relaxed slouch on the sofa, sipping his tea without blowing on it, a perk of the Autumn Court magic that flowed through his veins. All from his mothers side. Eris hoped his magic was his mothers too, but something told him he hadn’t been so lucky.

“I was…avoiding my responsibilities. Father decided I was being lazy and sent me here to make sure I couldn’t be lazy any longer. And he burned my favourite book.” Eris tried not to sound as upset as he was about that book, though he could tell Lucien saw right through him.

“What book was it?” He asked.

“Just a kids book, my Faerie Tales of Prythian.” He admitted. Lucien gave him a sad smile.

“You used to read that to me.” He said.

“Yeah.” Eris said, and in the pain of losing it he had forgotten, and now his grief cut even deeper. “Yeah I did.”

---

You walked through the streets of Velaris with Lucien, dark green dress complimenting his own green tunic. He chuckled at something you said, then stopped abruptly outside the window of a small bookshop, tucked neatly into a row of colourful buildings. The store-front was a cheerful green, with hanging baskets and a charming little display of floating books.

“I just need to pop in here.” He said, after looking in the window curiously for a moment. You wondered what it was that had caught his eye, but followed him in anyway. The smell of books and warming spiced candles filled your nose. Lucien went up to the shopkeeper and enquired about something as you browsed the books in the middle table. The latest Sellyn Drake took pride of place and you picked it up for Nesta. Lucien held a wrapped book in his hands when you approached the desk, looking pleased with himself.

“Just this, please.” You asked the shopkeeper, a dark haired male with half-moon glasses. He wordlessly wrapped the book in brown paper and took your money. As you walked out you eyed Lucien’s own packaged purchase.

“What did you get?”

“Just a book I’ve been eyeing for a while.” He said evasively. “Want to come back to mine for lunch? I’ve been meaning to try out this new game if you wanted to try it?”

You smiled.

“I’m honoured you value my opinion on board games.” You said, you were often the one to test out the new games he bought. The two of you had become board game connoisseurs over the last few weeks, especially with you avoiding your brothers. You frowned, remembering who resided in his apartment currently.

“Eris is there, but he won’t bother us.” Lucien said, catching your mood. “Trust me.”

You found it hard to trust that Eris wouldn’t poke his nose into your business, but you did want to spend time with your friend. It felt strange, how much better things had gotten since the war, that you no longer wished to hole yourself away but instead sought out company. Your mother would be proud of you, you thought, proud of how far you had come.

“Ok.” You said, and it felt like a leap in the right direction, going knowingly towards your mate. The bond in your chest fluttered.

---

Back in the familiar warmth of Lucien’s apartment, the fire roaring and the tea flowing, you wondered why you had been nervous at all. Eris looked as awkward as an older brother supervising a play-date and had barely said a word. You chatted to Lucien easily, as you always did, and could have sworn everytime he laughed the glimmer of a smile tugged at Eris’ lips. Lucien poured you another cup of tea – the two of you would move to wine once it hit four – and then reached down into his bag.

“I bought this for you, whilst we were out.” He said, handing the brown paper package to Eris. Eris blinked in surprise and took the parcel. “I saw it in the window.”

Eris unwrapped the package as you took a slow sip of your tea. His eyes widened, and you saw the highly decorated cover of a children’s book of Faerie tales as he turned it over in his hands. He sniffed, like he was trying not to cry.

“Oh, Lucien.” He said, voice full of emotion. Lucien grinned widely, then looked at you. You were starting to think he was well and truly meddling now. You couldn’t look away from Eris for long, too interested in seeing his reaction to a relatively normal children’s book.

“Can I keep it here?” He asked, “I wouldn’t want father getting to this one too.”

“Of course. I thought you might.” Lucien responded, leaning back in his chair. You shifted on the sofa. Eris was only a cushion away. The scent of his perfume the same as that late afternoon, where the smell of cinnamon and cloves had consumed you thoroughly, the taste of salt choking you. He was softly leafing through the pages, his fingers tracing the illustrations as if they were old friends. You bit your lip as arousal crept up on you suddenly. Lucien sipped his tea, smirking.

“Have you read it before?” You blurted, and Eris was dragged from his reverie.

“Yes. As a child. I read it to all my brothers too.” He said. Why was that making you so wet?

“What happened to your old copy?” You asked, aroused and confused.

“Father burnt it.” He said, matter-of-factly. Lucien winced and you frowned. It was an open secret that Beron was a cold and callous father, but you had always assumed that Eris was the favoured son, the idea that his cruelty extended even to him… You were beginning to seriously think you had misjudged Eris, sorely misjudged him.

“Did you get anything nice?” Eris asked, putting the book down on his lap and training those russet eyes on yours. You swallowed.

“Just a book for Nesta.”

“Ah. That’s kind of you. Is it her birthday?”

“No. Just, um, she likes the author.” You explained, feeling rather scrutinised under his intense gaze. His eyes softened and he smiled.

“Is it Sellyn Drake?” He asked, catching you off guard. You choked.

“How do you know about Sellyn Drake?” You asked incredulously.

“I’m very well read.” He said, before picking his book back up and flicking to where he had left off. You looked over at Lucien and he was biting his lip, looking between the two of you. He had placed himself in the best seat in the house to watch the two of you fumble like a poorly written play. That bastard.

To rub salt in the wound, he got up and excused himself to the bathroom, leaving you and Eris alone. Alone for the first time since the woods. Since you had tasted him on your tongue, savoured his low whimpers and moans, licked and sucked him down like your last meal on this earth. His grin was feral, and you knew he could taste your arousal in the air.

“I’ve been thinking of it too, sweetheart.” He confessed, and the nickname didn’t annoy you like it should, but instead sent the shiver of sweet memories straight to your core. “Every night I’m in this Court it’s torture not to turn up at yours and return the favour.”

You couldn’t help the shudder that ran through you and for once, you didn’t hate that fact. Your body was reacting to your mate, mere inches away, and you were ok with it. The bond felt like it was shimmering gold. Eris put his hand to his chest subconsciously, eyes wide, disbelieving.

“Don’t get too cocky.” You said finally. “My brothers would chase you out with a broom.”

“I’m more worried about their swords.” Eris smirked.

“Trust me, no one’s more worried about their ‘swords’ than they are.” You joked. It felt good to make him smile. He broke out into a boyish grin. He looked young. He looked carefree. He was yours.

Lucien returned with a muffin. He sat down with a sigh and looked between you both with the conniving look of someone who’s plan had succeeded with flying colours. You rolled your eyes and looked to Eris, but he hadn’t noticed, he was too busy looking at you.

---

A few days passed, and with each new day you started to feel worse and worse. Despite the sort of friendly truce you and Eris had reached, neither of you had spoken again since your meeting at Lucien’s. It had come on gradually, the morning after started with just a sniffle, but now, you were practically bedridden. Your chest ached, you were coughing and your nose and sinuses were blocked and stuffy. Lying on the sofa was the only thing you could do.

There was a knock at your bedroom door and you groaned in answer, hoping whoever it was who had come to bother you would go away. They didn’t go away. Instead, Azriel let himself in and flopped down next to you on your bed. He turned to look at you, hair a little mussed from training.

“You look like shit.” He said. You groaned again, you were doing a lot of groaning lately, and you slapped his arm weakly. “Well, you do.” He continued, “So I took it upon myself to research what’s wrong with you.”

“Oh, do tell.” You said, nose stuffy with snot. He sat up and looked down at you seriously.

“You are bond sick.” He declared. You looked at him incredulously.

“I’m sorry?”

“According to this book,” Which was dumped unceremoniously onto your feet by his shadows, “Ignoring a bond for too long, in some rare cases, can manifest into physical symptoms, for example: fever, cold, double vision and even fainting spells.”

You sat in stunned silence for a moment, your jaw ajar until you breathed in wrong and you began to cough and splutter. Azriel hauled you up and thumped your back a few times until you were able to breath again. You flopped forwards into his chest. This wasn’t fair at all. The one time you spend even a short amount of pleasant time in Eris’ company, and now your body decided to make you ill. You let out another weak cough.

“That’s bullshit.” You croaked.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Azriel consoled you, “Do you want hot tea?”

You nodded. “With lemon,” You said as he got up. “And sugar” He stepped out of the door. “A biscuits!” He was halfway down the hallway, but you knew he had heard you. As the spymaster he should already know what you like with your tea anyway.

The two of you sat quietly when he returned, both sipping on your tea, with no biscuits. You occasionally sneezed violently and his shadows swarmed to protect his tea, lest he be infected with your Eris sickness. After one particularly strong hack that had Azriel very concerned for your lungs, he finally snapped out of his silence.

“Right. That’s it. You’re too sick, it’s ridiculous.” He said, in that no nonsense way he used to order you and your brothers around. Eldest brother rights, he called it. “You’re going to have to go and see him.” You could have sworn right after he admitted it, he gagged. You sighed deeply. Azriel was clearly unhappy about you being anywhere near the Autumn Court Prince. But even he couldn’t deny that your health was more important than anything else. You weren’t thrilled at the prospect of Eris seeing you like this, though.

When you had finally dragged yourself out of bed, into the shower and then all the way to Lucien’s apartment, it became clear that you were not the only one suffering. Eris opened the door, leaning most of his weight on the handle, and looked at you with tired, puffy eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but sneezed loudly before he could. His hair was a mess. You sniffed. No words were needed for him to let you in without question, and the two of you trudged to the living room like zombies to collapse in front of the roaring fire.

It took perhaps an hour of sitting without saying anything, sniffing and coughing before your head started to feel slightly clearer. Eris blew his nose and perked up a little bit, disappearing to the bathroom then returning with brushed hair. You both looked dreadful still, but it was a minor improvement.

“Are we just going to be stuck together like this forever then?” He asked miserably, looking up from his book. You snorted.

“Az said a few days should be sufficient.” You replied, throat feeling a bit clearer. He nodded slowly.

“I just like my own space.” He said, and you gave a weak laugh.

“I’ll be out of your lovely hair in a few days, don’t you worry. Anyway, your brother should be home soon to cook us dinner and look after us.”

Eris twirled a lock of hair around his finger absent-mindedly and hummed.

It was on the third day of sleeping on Lucien’s sofa that you truly felt better. You could sit up without getting dizzy, you could breath out of both nostrils, and your chest didn’t feel as though a gallon of treacle was settled into your lungs. Eris looked much revived as well. His hair was back in it’s characteristic braids and his signature cocky smirk had returned. He joined you in the living room, a fresh pastry in one hand, and a small box in the other.

Over the three days, the two of you had got to know each other more and more. You learned all the names of his dogs, and were amused to find he kept a drawing of each one in his wallet. He found out more about your childhood, growing up with the ‘three bats’ as he called them, and was surprised to find out that Cassian used soap to wash both his body and his hair.

“But his hair is so shiny?” He had said, in utter disbelief. All you could do was agree, Cassian’s luxurious waves had been a mystery to you since the age of thirteen.

As the days went on, and you joined each other in the living-room for quiet reading, board games and cards, the more distant you felt to that girl in the council room in Dawn. Feeling the bond snap. Filled only with disgust.

Eris was...sweet. Arrogant at times. Annoying a lot of the time. But also, genuine and caring. He loved his brothers. Doted on Lucien. His eyes crinkled when he smiled. He talked about his mother, his dogs, the books he liked, the people he had met.

You used to read princess stories when you were younger, where a charming young prince would carry the female away in the end, into the sunset. Would that I could find love like that.

As a low-born Illyrian girl who had no prospects and couldn’t fly, it never occurred to you that you might.

You eyed the box carefully.

“What’s that?” You asked, shuffling closer to Eris, trying to get a peek inside. He batted you away gently.

“It’s for you.” He said, opening it up to reveal a silver necklace, like a string of delicate ivy, inlaid with tiny drops of emerald. “I know you have rejected all the other courting gifts. You don’t have to take it. It’s...my mother gave it to me to give to my mate, once I had found her, it’s a family heirloom.”

You looked up at him, eyes glossy with tears. A small nod was all he needed to take it from the box and gently place it around your neck. Your stomach flipped. Your core turned molten. He leaned back to admire you, his mate, claimed by his jewels. And when he leaned closer, you didn’t stop your eyes from fluttering closed as your lips met his.

---

Eris had about five seconds of bliss. Of his mate; neck draped in his necklace, lips pressed to his, before he was yanked away roughly by a scarred hand. He watched as your eyes snapped open in surprise, then darkened with the same fire he had seen on the battlefield. His heart thumped in his chest, anger that wasn’t his roared through him.

Azriel dropped him and he landed, mercifully, on his feet next to a bewildered looking Lucien. The last thing he wanted to do was fight with your brother, let alone in front of you, but by the look on your face it wouldn’t be him that Az had to go through. You let out a warning snarl, and Az met your stare.

“What are you doing here, Az?” You growled.

“You’ve been gone for three days Y/n! I’m checking up on my baby sister. Clearly, it seems I was needed.” He said, stepping around Eris as if he were nothing. Eris scoffed. You glowered.

“I was perfectly fine. Great even.”

Eris saw Azriel turn red, those mystifying shadows swirling around him, poised to strike. Arousal coursed through him at the sight of you, stood now, in front of your brother, adorned in his necklace defending him. Pure, male pride surged through his veins. You were his. His.

“You cannot seriously be considering accepting his bond?” Azriel demanded.

Eris seethed at the disdain in Azriel’s voice, at his controlling demeanor. “She’s not your baby, Azriel. She’s a grown female, capable of making her own choices. I think we can all see I wasn’t hurting her, so I think it’s time you leave.”

Azriel whipped around to stare daggers at the Autumn Court heir. He tried not to falter under that deathly glare. Eris looked past him and saw you, biting your lip, the same way he wished he had had a chance to do to you before your meddlesome brother intervened. Azriel grabbed your arm and barged out of the room, leaving himself and Lucien stood awkwardly in your wake. Lucien let out a low whistle, then turned with a mischievous smile and clapped him on the shoulder.

Eris stalked upstairs to his bedroom.

---

A day later, Lucien had worked his magic, and Eris had allowed himself to be convinced to walk straight into the bat’s lair. Well, the River Estate. He had the distinct feeling of dread he usually got walking into his fathers office to be berated over something. But Lucien had pouted all night, claiming it was a good idea to make things up to Azriel, and to have a civil dinner with the rest of the family.

Eris disagreed, and thought this was much more likely to provoke Azriel than placate him, but Lucien wouldn’t take no for an answer. Eventually there was nothing more he could do than roll his eyes and let himself be swept along with Lucien’s excitement.

It was an experience, living with his little brother again. Lucien had seemingly grown centuries older. He was hardened, sadder, more reserved. Yet he kept some of the light, the bright demeanour and infectious smile, wielded it like armour. It was only when he crawled into Eris’ bed at night, like he had when he was oh so little and afraid of the dark, that Eris noticed just how much Lucien had suffered.

Eris supposed subjecting himself to one family dinner with Rhysand and his minions was the least he could do to see more of his brother’s smile.

The table was set, and the food already served in the middle of the table. Eris looked to Lucien and was informed in a hushed whisper that they serve themselves. His brows furrowed. He knew Rhys had handmaidens, the two shadow wraith girls, but it seemed their duties only extended to making sure there was food on the table, not serving it to each guest like the waiters at the Forest House would. It felt more personable, asking Cassian to pass the potatoes, though he didn’t dare ask Azriel to pass the salt that was currently down his end. Especially not when he had very obviously laid his dagger, truth-teller, on the table where his steak knife should have been.

It was quite the spread; juicy braised steak in a rich red wince sauce, creamy mashed potatoes, boiled potatoes dripping in butter, green beans, carrots, corn on the cob. It beat his or Lucien’s cooking any day.

He watched as you ate off your fork delicately. Despite your Illyrian heritage, you had many of the airs and graces of a High Fae Lady. Rhysand’s mother must have done a good job at instilling etiquette into all of you. Even Cassian had surprisingly good table manners. You took another bite of your steak, glancing across the table at him as Feyre chatted happily about her foray into candle painting. Indeed, the table was seductively lit with a smattering of hand painted candles, most of them floral, or adorned with stars. They were very pretty. But Eris wasn’t focused on the candles, instead the warm glow it bathed you in, the flicker of the flame dancing in your eyes.

He forced himself to take a slow breath out through his nose as you dropped your gaze, a light blush rising on your cheeks.

You looked divine. Your dress, whilst more modest than that in the Hewn City, was more elegant than the day dresses you favoured. It wasn’t the low v-neckline, or even the two high slits up both legs that let the dress fall in waves to the floor that caught his eyes first. Not even the straps that crossed your back, framing your beautiful wings. No. It was the colour. The deep russet, matching his eyes almost exactly. Warm and rich against your supple skin.

You were in Autumn Court colours.

You were wearing his necklace. The family heirloom, passed from grandmother, to mother, and now you. And glinting in your ears, you wore the earrings he had sent you, months ago, his rejected courting gifts. He sent a wave of affection down the bond, and you answered it with your own.

“So. Eris.” Rhysand addressed him directly for the first time this evening, the conversation having flowed around him as he ate. “What are your intentions with my sister.”

Cutlery clinked in the awkward silence. Eris put his knife and fork down, and swallowed. Rhys was smirking, his tone light, but you were looking at him warily enough that it made Eris think carefully about his next words.

“I intend to court your sister. If she will have me.” He said diplomatically. “If accepting the bond is something that Y/n wants,” He looked over at you and you met his eyes, “then, I would be more than happy to follow her lead.”

Rhys studied him for a while. Cassian nodded, seemingly happy with his answer and went back to eating. Eris watched at you looked up at him through your eyelashes, chewed slowly and swallowed, keeping your gorgeous does eyes trained on him as you licked your knife clean, trailing your tongue through the rich wine sauce just as you had milked the last drops of cum from his spent cock. It gave a weak twitch in his pants, starting to chub up at the sight. He licked his lips, praying the slick pre-cum wouldn’t soak through. He threw a glamour up quickly to mask the scent of his arousal.

Az was looking at him in disgust. He suspected it was near impossible to hide anything from the infamous spymaster. Cassian cleared his throat.

“And what do you want, Y/n.” He asked, turning from his seat beside you to look at you directly. You gave him a loving smile.

“I’m open to being courted.” You declared. In front of your family. Eris loosed an audible sigh of relief. Azriel stabbed a piece of steak so violently he was surprised the fork didn’t go straight through. You looked towards your brother hopelessly, anticipating another fight.

“Az.” Rhys turned to him. “I made the mistake of trying to control Y/n’s choices, and she didn’t speak to me for weeks. Are you sure that’s something you’re willing to risk?” He asked. Azriel looked down at his plate. Eris eyed him carefully, painfully aware it was only Lucien separating him from the unpredictable male.

You had talked about your brothers a lot, during your days locked up together. If you weren’t so insistent that you loved them all the same, he would have thought Azriel was your favourite of the three. The way you spoke of him, as if he was the opinion you cherished the most, the brother who looked out for you, protected you, consoled you after every moment of grief and pain.

Azriel took a long breath.

“I just want you to be happy.” He said finally, talking to you and only you.

“I am happy, Az.” You said, sending a wave a calm down to bond to Eris.

A faint smile tugged at Azriel’s lips, “Ok.”

“I love you, I know you want what’s best for me, and if he ever fucks up I give you full permission to beat his ass. But if you ever stop me from making my own decisions again, I will beat you up myself. Is that understood?” Eris couldn’t stop his dick twitching again as you defended yourself. Another spurt of pre-cum making his pants hot and sticky. He shifted in his seat.

“Understood Starlight.” Azriel said with a low chuckle.

You got up from your seat, flashing those delectable thighs as you made your way round the table. Strapped to your left leg in a garter like holster, was the ornate dagger Eris had gifted you on his first visit to Velaris. He willed his erection to go down. You made your way to where Az was sitting and flung your arms around him, kissing his cheek and whispering something in his ear that made him laugh. Then you stretched your arms, yawning.

“I’m beat. I’m going up to my room, thanks for a lovely meal Rhys.” Your eyes flickered over to Eris as you spoke, he got the message loud and clear. Rhys smiled.

“Thank Feyre, it’s her cravings for steak that keep the butchers in business at the moment.” He laughed. Feyre rubbed her bump, a nervous smile on her lips as she looked down at the life ready to arrive in the world any day now. Eris gave her a smile as you kissed her cheek and rubbed her belly lovingly before you retired to your room.

Azriel excused himself almost immediately after, then Lucien, then Cassian and Nesta. Rhys and Feyre were too busy fussing over the baby kicking to care when Eris thanked them, and went after you.

The River estate was large and sprawling, and it took Eris a little while to find you. He followed the tugging at his chest, and when he found you he realised why it had taken so long. You had chosen the highest bedroom in the house, overlooking the Sidra. He stopped in the doorway and watched a moment, as you leant on the balcony railing looking out into the night air. Your wings spread wide to catch the breeze.

“I wish they would carry me up there.” You said quietly, hearing him approach. Eris walked over to join you.

“They’re beautiful.” He said, and you gave him a sad smile. Eris’ hands twitched by his side, wanting to reach out and run his fingers along the delicate membrane. You turned fully, back against the railing.

“You can touch, if you want.” You said, looking down. Eris prayed his hard on wasn’t too obvious. He stepped forward, replacing nerves with a cocky smile. Instead of your wings, he trailed his finger down your cheek, and leaned down to kiss you.

---

You melted beneath his touch, his lips finally on your again, all you could think about since yesterday. His hand rested on the back of your neck, massaging with his thumb gently as he deepened the kiss.

It was bliss. Warm, comfortable bliss. Until pleasure, white hot, spread down your spine like wildfire, causing your knees to buckle underneath you. You let out an embarrassing sound, and Eris gave a low chuckled.

“You did say I could touch.” He said, and he rolled the edge of your wing beneath his fingertips again. You stumbled forwards and were caught in his embrace. In one swift movement, he scooped you up and strode into the room, throwing you down onto the bed. You blinked up at him, the heat from your core almost unbearable. You thought it was impossible for your panties to get any wetter.

He slowly pushed your dress up, stopping just short of revealing your dripping panties and gave you a questioning look.

“Is this ok?” He asked softly, “We don’t have to go this far tonight. We can take it slower, just court, if that’s what you want?” You blushed. If you wanted, he would be the perfect lover, waiting for you, courting you. Letting you be the demure princess you used to read about.

You didn’t want to be demure. You wanted Eris, burned for him. Wanted him feral and whimpering like he had been in those woods. You pulled your dress up higher, watching as his eyes darkened in lust and he growled deep in his chest.

“I’ve been wanting to return the favour ever since that day in the Autumn Court, Sweetheart.” He said, peeling your panties down and savouring the sight of the wetness glistening along your thighs. “You look like you’ll taste as sweet as your pretty mouth.”

His head dipped down, and the fiery heat of his tongue dragged a ragged moan from your chest as he sucked the slick from your skin, then without teasing, feasted on your throbbing core. Hooking his arms under your legs, he pulled you closer to him, suffocating himself in your pussy.

You looked down at him through your eyelashes, watching in awe as he ate your pussy like a male starved. Every lick making your core clench. He sucked the wetness from your thighs, drinking you down, bringing you closer and closer to falling off the precipice. His own hips were bucking frantically into the bed and he moaned into your wet heat.

“Eris!” You cried, relishing the feeling of Eris’ warm tongue, velvety smooth against your clit, driving you further into a pleasure drunken haze. “Eris, please.”

He came up for air, a self-satisfied smirk on his slick lips.

“Yes, little fox?” The nickname sent shivers up your spine. Core clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. You bit your lip.

“Touch my wings again, please, touch them again.” You begged, head thrown back against the pillows. He grinned, and went back to licking you clean, his tongue skilfully drawing every inch of pleasure from you. One hand trailed up to fondle the bottom edge of your wing. He pressed a few different spots, each drawing a whine from your lips, until he found the point that made you shudder, pressing your hips up into his face. He stroked over the spot, your back arching, still feasting on your clit as your core began to clench tighter and tighter. It was his nails, gently raking over that sensitive area that had you screaming out, coming harder than you think you ever had. Eris licked you through it, thrusting his tongue in and out of your fluttering pussy. You let out a weak groan.

When he came back up, he met your lust blown eyes in a hungry stare, licking his lips clean of your juices. You swallowed. The look on his face was primal, feral. If he hadn’t already done so, you would have thought you were about to be eaten alive. He drank in your half-naked body slowly, savouring the view as he began unlacing his pants. You were quick to pull your dress over your head, releasing your breasts that bounced free. Eris was practically drooling.

Eris naked was a sight to behold. He was built like a God, all lean muscle, a defined ‘v’ below his hips and sculpted, toned thighs. His length curved upwards, tip reaching his bellybutton and leaving a messy trail of pre-cum over his stomach, the tip a flushed red. He was soaking. Eris followed your gaze downwards and looked almost embarassed.

“You’re so wet.” You whispered, unable to take your eyes off of the glistening wet mess. He bit his lip.

“Yeah. It’s um, it’s always been like this.” He said. You sat up on your knees, crawling towards him. Your mate would not be ashamed of any part of him, not whilst you were here to show him just how much you loved it. Your head dipped, and you licked his dick from root to tip, gathering his wetness on your tongue before swallowing it down. He groaned, and pushed you back onto the bed, crawling over you.

“You are perfect, little fox.” He rasped, “So beautiful, so good for me. I want to claim you,” He licked a stripe up your neck, cursing, “I want to make you mine. Will you let me?”

You nodded hurriedly.

“Yes. Yes. I’m yours. Eris I’m yours.” You moaned. A long finger speared you open and you clenched around it, needing more. He added another. You bucked your hips impatiently.

“Wait, love, got to make sure I’ll fit.” He said, male pride lacing his husky voice. You whine, throwing your head back petulantly. Every pump of his fingers in you, delicious torture. You wanted his cock, wanted it stuffed inside of you, driving you into the headboard with every thrust. The bond shimmered as he received your request, shuddering his pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his dick, lining it up and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he pushed inside.

The stretch burned, and the noise you made was wild and unrestrained. He grit his teeth, trying not to cum too soon.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart.” He ground out, “You’re so tight.”

He pressed in deeper, forehead dropped to yours, until he was finally sheathed fully. Pulling out slightly, savouring the drag of your delicious heat against him, he thrust in roughly, giving you no time to adjust to the size of him. It had you drooling, head thrown back against the pillows, drunk on his cock.

He held onto your waist like a lifeline as he bucked into you, setting a rhythm that had you choking on your moans. Your hand fiddled with the necklace that felt like a collar around your neck. It didn’t go unnoticed. He trailed a hand up your chest, stopping to roll a nipple between his fingers, before he continued upwards, reaching your neck and wrapping his hand around it.

Your eyes snapped to his, and he waited until your pupils widened, and you nodded. His hand squeezed the sides of your throat, your pulse fluttering wildly beneath his fingers. He shut his eyes tight for a moment as the rush of power overcame him. You were whimpering beneath him, eyes rolling back in your head. He gave you a moments reprieve before choking you again. Hot, wet, slick rushed around his cock. You were leaking down your thighs.

“Eris!” You rasped as best you could as his hand stayed firmly around your neck.

“Yeah sweetheart,” He panted, “I know, I fucking know.”

His thrusts were getting sloppy, his breathing harsh. Loosening his grip, he pulled your head up and kissed you hard. Nothing like the romantic kiss you had shared on Lucien’s sofa. This was messy, and rough, his teeth clacked with yours as his tongue thrust into your mouth, melding with yours. You surrendered under him, hips bucking to meet every faltering thrust. There was no way you could stop the release that barrelled towards you.

“I’m, fuck, Eris. I’m going to cum!” You pleaded with him as your pussy tightened impossibly around his length. He moaned shakily.

“Yeah, yes, sweetheart. Fucking cum for me love. Cum on my cock.” He said through gritted teeth. You clenched hard around him and came. Hard. Squeezing him so tightly it was painful. He thrust in again, once, twice, before he let out a strangled moan and followed you over the edge.

Ropes of hot cum filled you as he pushed in weakly, fucking you both through your intense orgasms. It was more cum than you were used to, filling you up to the brim and spilling out around the sides. Once he was satisfied, he pulled out, and it dripped onto the sheets below.

With a sated sigh, he laid down next to you, pulling you into his warm arms. You breathed him in. The bond buzzing pleasantly in your chest. His heartbeat was steady under your head that rested atop him, your hand coming up to twist gently in his hair. He kissed your forehead, your nose, your lips.

You reached for that familiar golden thread, the feeling no longer disgusting you, and gave it a tug, watching as Eris physically jolted. He looked down at you in surprise, and you let out a chuckle.

He was yours.

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#best eris fic

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