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moonlitstoriess · 1 month ago

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Binding Lies- Eris Vanserra x fem!reader (mini-series) Part 1

Summary: When Y/N, Azriel’s secret half-sister who lives far away, and Eris Vanserra form a strategic contractual marriage to further their own agendas, what begins as a carefully crafted arrangement soon becomes more complicated. As they pretend to be a perfect couple, the lines between duty and desire blur, and neither is prepared for the consequences.

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Warnings: none for now, I think.

A/n: Soo I believe that because Eris is the ultimate enemies to lovers boy, what other character would be best suited for this type of story if not him? 🤭

What was life if not a series of obligations and chains?

Eris swirled the wine in his goblet, the deep red liquid catching the firelight like blood. A fitting image, he thought grimly. Everything in the Autumn Court reeked of it—blood spilled for power, blood spilled for survival, and the invisible blood that stained every action taken under his father’s rule.

He stared into the wine, the rippling surface reflecting the gilded dining hall around him. The room was filled with laughter and chatter, the High Lord’s officials and their daughters basking in the false warmth of Beron’s presence. Eris wanted to set the entire place aflame, to reduce it all to ash.

“Are you listening, boy?”

Beron’s voice cut through his thoughts like a whip, and Eris blinked, his fingers tightening around the goblet. He didn’t bother hiding his irritation as he looked up, his sharp gaze meeting his father’s.

“You were saying?” Eris drawled, his tone laced with mockery.

Beron’s lip curled, his fiery eyes narrowing. “I said, it’s time you marry. The Autumn Court needs an heir.”

Ah, this tired song again. Eris leaned back in his chair, feigning nonchalance even as his jaw tightened. “I didn’t realize the court was on the brink of collapse without me married off. Or is it simply that the officials are tired of their daughters gathering dust?”

A few low chuckles rippled around the table, but Beron’s gaze burned like embers. He leaned in and whispered to his son, “I didn't order for all these females to be brought here like herds of sheep for nothing. Careful, Eris. Your insolence won’t serve you well when you’re High Lord."

Eris’s mouth curved into a cold smile. “And yet it serves me well enough now.”

Beron’s fingers flared with fire, but Eris didn’t flinch. He’d played this game with his father too many times to be cowed by his temper.

As the conversation shifted to other matters, Eris returned his attention to his goblet, though his mind was far from at ease.

Perhaps his father would die soon. That would certainly solve a number of problems.

The conversation at the table turned to the next ball Beron was hosting—a thinly veiled excuse for court officials to parade their daughters before Eris like prized cattle. He ground his teeth at the thought, his fingers tightening around the stem of his goblet until the fragile glass threatened to shatter.

“We’ve extended invitations to the most prominent families,” Beron announced with a self-satisfied smirk. “I trust you’ll make an effort to charm them this time, Eris. We can’t afford your... indifference.”

Eris forced his face into a neutral mask, though his thoughts burned like the fires of the court. Charm them? For what? So they could shove their scheming daughters into his arms, hoping to cement their families’ power at his side?

He knew these men. Knew how they whispered behind Beron’s back, how they lusted for a slice of the Autumn Court’s rule. And their daughters—pretty, vapid faces who smiled too sweetly and batted their lashes with calculated precision. None of them wanted him. They wanted the title, the crown, the prestige.

“I’ll do what’s expected,” Eris replied flatly, his voice betraying nothing.

Beron’s smirk widened, as though he’d won some unspoken battle. “Good. It’s time you understood your duty, boy. This is about the future of the court, not your personal whims.”

Personal whims. Eris resisted the urge to laugh. As if his father cared about anything beyond his own legacy.

Hours later, Eris stood alone in the dimly lit study, the flames in the hearth casting flickering shadows against the walls. He stared into the fire, imagining Beron’s face in the dancing embers.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak of the door. He turned to see his mother stepping inside, her elegant frame draped in rich autumnal hues. She regarded him with a mix of weariness and concern, her sharp eyes softening only slightly as they met his.

“I see the evening went as expected,” she said quietly, closing the door behind her.

Eris let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, it was delightful. Another ball to look forward to, another round of power-hungry men throwing their daughters at me like bait.”

His mother sighed, moving to stand beside him. “You know he’s right, Eris. As much as I loathe him, you are the future of this court. It’s time you—”

“Don’t,” Eris snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. He turned to face her, his amber eyes blazing. “Don’t tell me you’re siding with him now. You’ve always said to wait for my mate, that the bond is sacred—”

“And it is,” she interrupted, her voice calm but firm. “But Eris, you can’t live your life waiting for something that might never come. This court needs you to lead, and you can’t do that alone.”

His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “So what? I’m supposed to pick some scheming girl with a pretty smile and call her my wife? Let Beron manipulate her like he manipulates everyone else?”

“I hate it as much as you do,” she said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “But this is the reality of our world. You can’t change it by standing still.”

He pulled away, stepping back as if her touch burned. “No. You’ve always told me to hold out for my mate, that she’s my true other half. And now you’re telling me to abandon that for... for duty?”

Her gaze faltered, and for a moment, Eris saw the sadness beneath her composed exterior. “Sometimes,” she said quietly, “duty must come first.”

Eris stared at her, his chest tightening with anger and something far more painful. He turned back to the fire, his voice low and cold. “Then maybe I don’t want this court. Maybe I don’t want any of it.”

His mother didn’t leave immediately. Instead, she lingered, her silhouette bathed in the warm glow of the firelight. She always had an air of quiet resilience about her, like a tree that had weathered too many storms but refused to break.

“You’re angry with me,” she said after a moment, her voice soft but steady.

Eris let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Angry doesn’t quite cover it.”

She sighed, her expression guarded. “You think I don’t understand how you feel? That I haven’t spent centuries trapped in the same gilded cage?”

Eris turned to her, his amber eyes blazing with frustration. “Then why are you saying this? Why are you pushing me toward the very thing you despise?”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Because I know what it means to survive in this court. I know what it takes to hold onto even a sliver of power. And if you think Beron will let you ascend without a fight, without someone at your side to help you weather the storm, then you’re deluding yourself.”

“I don’t need a wife to survive his schemes,” Eris shot back. “I’ve been outmaneuvering him and his sycophants for years.”

His mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Outmaneuvering isn’t the same as leading. One day, you’ll be the High Lord, and when that day comes, you’ll need more than cunning to keep this court from tearing itself apart.”

“Don’t act like you care about this court,” Eris said sharply. “You’ve hated it for as long as I can remember. Hated him. Hated everything about this place.”

Her face hardened, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—pain, perhaps, or regret. “You’re right. I hate it. But I stayed for you, Eris. For you and your brothers. Do you think I endured this hell for my own sake?”

He flinched, her words cutting deeper than he cared to admit.

“I stayed,” she continued, her voice trembling ever so slightly, “because I wanted to give you a chance. A chance to be something better than him. To rise above his cruelty and show this court what true strength looks like. And now, after everything I’ve sacrificed, you want to throw it all away because you’re too stubborn to see the bigger picture?”

Eris’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists. “This isn’t about me being stubborn. It’s about not letting him dictate my life. I refuse to let him win.”

“And you think refusing to marry will stop him?” she asked, her tone sharp. “He’s already won, Eris. As long as he holds the title of High Lord, he’ll keep manipulating you, keep twisting everything to suit his whims. The only way to beat him is to take his crown—and you can’t do that alone.”

He turned away from her, staring into the fire as if it held the answers he so desperately sought. “I’m not like him,” he said quietly, more to himself than to her. “I won’t let this court turn me into what he is.”

“And you won’t,” she said, her voice softening. “But you can’t change this court without wielding its power. You have to play the game, Eris. Even if it means making sacrifices.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Sacrifices. That’s all we ever do, isn’t it? Sacrifice our happiness, our freedom, our lives for this damned court.”

His mother stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re stronger than you think,” she said softly. “Stronger than him. Stronger than me. And one day, you’ll make this court something worth fighting for.”

Eris didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the flickering flames. Her words stirred something in him—a deep, aching need to prove her right, to show her that her sacrifices hadn’t been in vain. But the weight of his father’s shadow loomed over him, suffocating and unrelenting.

After a long silence, his mother gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and stepped back. “You don’t have to like it, Eris,” she said quietly. “But you do have to face it.”

With that, she turned and left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the ever-present firelight.

The endless parade of extravagant gatherings had become a well-known routine in the Autumn Court, each more suffocating than the last. Another evening, another dreary ball. Eris stood at the center of it all, draped in the formal attire his father insisted upon, an expression of mild annoyance barely hidden behind his regal facade. His father, Beron, had decreed that Eris must choose a suitable wife, one from the political elite, as the latest power struggle played out. For Beron, it was all part of a calculated game, a way to secure more influence for the Autumn Court—and a way to control Eris.

Males, their faces full of ambition, tried their hardest to charm Eris, while women, desperate to catch the Autumn Prince’s eye, all but draped themselves at his feet. It sickened him. Every glance, every touch, every word was a play for power. Eris knew they weren’t interested in him; they were interested in what his title could give them. His sharp gaze swept over the room, taking in the sycophantic expressions, the forced smiles, and the hunger for power in every corner.

Beron watched from his place at the head of the room, pleased with the spectacle, his eyes shining with the gleam of conquest. Beron had made it clear: these gatherings were not just for entertainment. They were strategic. He would not rest until Eris had chosen someone from this selection, a female who could help solidify the family’s dominance and advance the court’s agenda.

But Eris could feel the walls closing in, the pressure mounting. He could hear his father's voice in his mind, always there, like a shadow he could never shake: “It’s time, Eris. The court expects this. You must comply.”

There was a veiled threat beneath those words. Beron had already made it clear that if Eris didn’t choose, if he didn’t bend to his will, there were others—his younger brothers—who could take his place. It was a subtle threat, but one Eris understood all too well. His father’s cruelty and ambition knew no bounds.

The weight of the possibility hit Eris hard. His life had always been a game to Beron, but the stakes were growing higher.

The ball dragged on, but Eris had long since stopped paying attention to the endless parade of hopeful females. With a glass of wine in hand, he withdrew to the balcony. He stood in silence, staring at the empty expanse of the Autumn Court below. The festivities continued inside, a blur of noise and laughter, but all Eris could hear was the pounding of his own thoughts.

What is life?

The question lingered in his mind, an idle thought born from the monotony of his existence. What did it all mean? The power, the position, the endless battles for influence—none of it seemed to satisfy him. All his life, he had been surrounded by people who wanted something from him. All of them were vying for his favor, for his loyalty, for his title. His position had always been a means to an end, never something people cared about for Eris himself.

He was the Autumn Prince, yes. But who was he beneath that title? Was he just another pawn in Beron’s game? Or was there something more to him—something his father never saw? A part of Eris longed for something different, something real.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he stared into the swirling depths of his goblet, watching the liquid ripple and shift. I want a partner. Not a pawn. Not a game. He wanted someone who could see him for who he truly was, someone who wouldn’t be blinded by his position and the power that came with it. But that, he knew, was impossible.

Who would want me?

His fingers tightened around the goblet, and his thoughts turned bitter. He knew the truth: to everyone else, he was nothing more than a means to an end. His bloodline, his name, his legacy—it was all they cared about. Even his own brothers, some of whom had never hesitated to remind him of his place in the family, saw him only as the heir, the one who could secure the future of the Autumn Court.

But how much of a fool he was to believe that tonight he would once more go back to his bedchambers, sleep and this whole ball circus will repeat once again the following evening.

Because it did not.

Something worse happened.

Something Beron told him that very evening.

The day after his father’s ultimatum, Eris was still reeling. His mind raced with frustration, his usual calm demeanor cracking under the weight of Beron’s command. Beron had made it clear: Eris would go to Montesere.

A place far removed from the harsh, cold winds of the Autumn Court. Any of the courts, really. Montesere, with its tropical warmth, golden sands, and sun-drenched lands, was like another world—a place of exotic beauty that felt almost like a dream. Beron had decided that Montesere’s ruler's daughter would be a suitable match for Eris, a political pawn to further cement the Autumn Court’s power and control over the region. Trading, influence, military alliances—Beron wanted it all, and Eris was the one who would secure it.

Eris had argued, of course. He’d protested, pacing in the grand hall of the Autumn Court, his voice sharp and full of anger.

“I will not do this,” he had told his father, fury burning in his veins. “You cannot force me to marry her. I will not be part of your schemes any longer.”

Beron had smiled, cold and calculating, as always. “You have no choice, Eris. You will go, or I will find someone else to take your place.”

Eris’s fists clenched, but he knew his father would follow through. The threat hung in the air like a sword, ready to fall. So, despite every instinct screaming to fight back, Eris had been forced to relent. It was either obey, or lose everything.

The night before he left, Eris had gone to his chambers in a haze, too angry and too betrayed to think clearly. But as the first rays of sunlight broke through the curtains, he found himself boarding a ship bound for Montesere, the tropical city a distant blur on the horizon.

The journey had been long, but as his ship docked in the vibrant city, Eris couldn't help but feel a simmering sense of discomfort. Montesere was a tropical paradise, yes, but it felt foreign in every sense. The air was thick with the scent of spices and wildflowers. The sun was relentless, beating down on the city like an oppressive force, making everything feel hotter than it should have been.

The city sprawled before him—warm, vibrant, and alive with color. The sounds of bustling markets and street vendors filling his ears. It was so different from the cold, rigid courts of his homeland, where everything was ordered, controlled. Here, there was freedom in the chaos. The sun shone fiercely in a sky of brilliant blue, and the city sprawled with narrow streets and grand palaces, lush gardens overflowing with life.

The architecture was stunning—a mixture of Moorish arches and vibrant murals that covered every surface of the grand buildings. Despite its beauty, Montesere gave off an undercurrent of tension, like a simmering pot of water on the verge of boiling over. Everything was too lavish, too colorful, too alive for Eris’s taste. He was used to the cold, biting winds of Autumn Court, the grey sky, and the rigid control of his father's rule. Montesere was an unknown entity, and he found it deeply unsettling.

Eris and his men walked through the city’s bustling streets, his boots making a steady sound against the cobblestones, but his mind was far from the sights before him. He wasn’t interested in the markets with their endless rows of goods, the open-air gardens that teemed with exotic plants, or the vibrant street performers who drew crowds of curious onlookers. He wasn’t here to admire the landscape.

His father had insisted on this alliance with Montesere. Beron had been pushing for months, envisioning it as a strategic move to gain control over trade routes, secure valuable resources, and extend his influence into territories far outside of the Autumn Court’s domain. And the key to that power was the ruler’s daughter—a female named Leona, Beron believed would make the perfect bride for Eris, a political pawn to further his own ambitions.

Eris had argued, of course. He had told his father that he didn’t care for some marriage of convenience to a woman he didn’t even know. He had protested that he wasn’t some puppet to be controlled and that he had no interest in taking yet another step toward tightening his father’s suffocating grip on his life. But Beron’s threats were sharp, and the weight of them had forced Eris into submission. In the end, he had been left with no choice.

Now, here he was, standing at the grand gates of Montesere's ruler’s palace, feeling the weight of his father’s will settle on his shoulders.

He had been instructed to meet with the ruler first—no pretense of formality, no chance to wander the city or take in the sights. It was straight to business.

As he approached the palace, the doors were already swung wide, and he was ushered inside by two sharply dressed guards. The marble floors gleamed beneath his boots as he was led down vast corridors with vaulted ceilings, adorned with intricate patterns that glimmered in the sunlight filtering through open windows. The palace was grand, more so than Eris had imagined, but it felt suffocating in its excess. Every corner seemed to shout wealth, power, and decadence—a sharp contrast to the order and structure of his home.

The king of Montesere was waiting for him in a large, open courtyard. The man’s presence was commanding, his dark eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and controlled power. He stood tall with a regal air, his robes of gold and royal blue trailing behind him as he spoke.

“Prince Eris,” he greeted, his voice smooth but carrying an edge of authority. “Welcome to Montesere. I trust your journey was uneventful?”

Eris met his gaze, offering a tight, polite smile. “As uneventful as one could expect.”

The man studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Come, let us discuss the matters at hand. There’s much to be done.”

They moved together toward a long table set with fruit and goblets of drink, though Eris had no desire to indulge. His mind was already miles ahead, racing through the consequences of his father’s machinations.

It wasn’t long before the ruler finally turned to introduce his daughter.

As the doors of the grand hall swung open, Eris was met with the sight of a woman who could not have been less interested in him. She walked in with an air of quiet dominance, her posture regal, her gaze sharp and unyielding. Her skin was kissed by the sun, a deep golden hue that glimmered like the sands of Montesere’s beaches. Her black hair was coiled into intricate braids, and her eyes—dark and intelligent—flickered with a disinterest that sent a strange ripple through Eris’s chest.

She didn’t even glance in his direction at first, her focus solely on her father. The king gave a small wave of his hand, signaling her approach.

“Eris, this is my daughter, Leona” the king said smoothly. “I trust you’ll find her quite the capable match for your endeavors.”

Eris was about to offer the usual pleasantries when he noticed her subtle shift in stance. She glanced at him, and there was nothing warm in her expression—nothing even remotely welcoming. It was clear from the beginning that this was going to be a difficult conversation, and Eris could already feel the simmering tension between them.

She stepped forward, her chin slightly tilted upward, and looked at him with a cold assessment.

“Prince Eris,” she greeted, her voice clipped and filled with restrained disdain. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

Eris didn’t know what to say at first. He was used to being the one in control of a room, used to women falling over themselves for his attention, but here? This female, wasn’t even pretending to be polite. She didn’t care about his title, his name, or what he had to offer.

“I’m sure your father has already told you why I’m here,” Eris said, keeping his tone neutral. “But I’d rather not waste either of our time.”

Her gaze narrowed as she tilted her head, clearly unamused by his bluntness.

“Oh, I’m well aware of why you’re here,” she replied coolly. “You’re here to do as your father orders—arrange some sort of political union. How quaint.”

Eris’s eyes sharpened, intrigued by her lack of filter. “And you don’t seem at all interested in that.”

She gave a wry smile, almost a smirk but before she could reply, her father gave her a nudge and pushed her away while sighing and leading Eris away, talking about anything and everything.

He hadn’t wanted to come here. But Beron’s orders had been clear: Don’t return until they agree to the marriage. But what marriage?

Their first meeting was brief. Eris had been led into a sitting room, where Leona sat, her posture rigid and uninviting. Her dark eyes—unwavering and cold—studied him for a moment before she even acknowledged his presence.

“Prince Eris,” she said with a slight nod, her voice carrying an edge of indifference. “A pleasure.”

The words were a formality, one Eris had heard countless times before, but there was no warmth, no attempt to make him feel welcome. She didn’t even stand to greet him, as if he wasn’t worth the effort.

Eris had forced a polite smile, but his patience was already wearing thin.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” he said, his tone smooth, though he felt no warmth toward her. “I trust we can begin discussing the matters of the courts?”

She didn’t respond immediately, her gaze flicking briefly to the ornate tapestries hanging on the walls. “The matters of the courts, yes,” she said, her words deliberate. “I have no interest in them, but I will endure.”

Eris had been taken aback by the bluntness of her words. No pretense, no sugar-coating. She had no interest in politics, in alliances, in him. And, frankly, he didn’t blame her. This whole arrangement reeked of manipulation and control, something he knew all too well.

Over the next few days, they met daily, as was expected. Eris stayed in the lavish guest quarters, while Leona continued with her duties, often walking the gardens or attending to the administrative needs of the palace. The first few conversations were business—exchange of trade information, a few discussions about potential negotiations—but it quickly became apparent that she wasn’t interested in any of it.

Every conversation felt more like a challenge. Leona constantly looked down on him, her words laced with sarcasm and condescension. She would laugh when he mentioned the complexities of the Autumn Court, or the intricacies of their alliances with other courts.

“What does any of your courts know about real power?” she’d sneer, her lips curling slightly with amusement. “You’ve been wrapped in your little bubble, thinking you control everything, and yet, here you are, in our world, where things work differently.”

Eris found himself both frustrated and intrigued. Still, he continued the charade, as his father had ordered. He met her every day in the grand gardens of the palace, a sprawling, lush oasis that contrasted sharply with the cold stone of the Autumn Court. They walked together, discussing politics in shallow, often biting terms, neither of them giving an inch.

And then, on their third meeting, something shifted.

Leona led him through the sprawling gardens once more, her sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. As they passed through an ornate archway into a more secluded part of the palace grounds, Eris couldn’t help but notice the subtle tension in her shoulders. She stopped suddenly, and he almost collided with her back.

“Enough of this,” she muttered under her breath, though Eris could still hear the frustration in her voice. “I can’t do this anymore. You need to leave.”

Eris blinked, taken off-guard. “What do you mean? Leave?” His heart skipped a beat, not in fear but in genuine confusion. “I can’t leave until—”

“I know,” she cut him off, her voice like ice. She turned to face him, her expression hard. “Until you marry me, is that what you were going to say?

Eris’s confusion deepened. “Why? Why the hell would I leave?”

Leona’s eyes flashed with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. Her lips twisted into a bitter smile. “You really don’t get it, do you?” she sneered. “I’m not interested in this marriage. Not in you, not in anything this ridiculous alliance is supposed to bring. I like females, not males!”

Eris stood there, stunned, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t seen that coming. Lesbian?

Her face was flushed with irritation now, her jaw clenched as she continued. “This whole thing, this marriage—it would never work. Not because you’re not… well, you, but because I don’t find males appealing. I don’t want to marry you. I don’t want to marry anyone.”

Eris struggled to process what she was saying. His mind was still racing. “But… why the hell didn’t you tell your father that? Why not just tell him the truth?”

Leona’s eyes narrowed, her frustration turning into something sharp, almost dangerous. “Because it’s not that simple,” she snapped. “He doesn’t care about me. He wants the alliance. He wants the trade routes, the power. I’m just a pawn in his game, just like you are.”

Eris’s anger flared. This wasn’t just about the marriage anymore—it was about the game his father had been playing with his life. He had been dragged all the way here, only to find out that the princess had no interest in males to begin with. That she had been trapped in this entire situation for a reason that had nothing to do with him, or his father’s plans.

He took a step closer to her, frustration dripping from his words. “So, I’m supposed to just pack up and go because you’ve been lying to everyone about this? Because you’re too afraid to tell your father the truth? And what, I’m just supposed to walk away after being dragged halfway across the world to sit here in this tropical hellhole?”

Leona’s eyes flashed with irritation. “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t owe you or anyone else an explanation. But I do owe it to myself to not get forced into something I don’t want. This marriage would be a nightmare for both of us.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you just tell your father from the start?!” Eris’s voice was rising now, his frustration spilling over. “Why drag me all the way here for nothing, when you knew the entire time that this was never going to work?”

Leona crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze unwavering. “Because it wasn’t just my choice, Eris. You were chosen because of your father’s power. And I was chosen because my father wants to strengthen our position in the courts. So don’t stand there, pretending like I’m the only one who’s playing a game.”

Her voice softened, almost imperceptibly, as she sighed in frustration. “I’m not afraid to tell him the truth. I’m just trying to avoid the inevitable fallout, alright? I’m trying to keep the peace in my kingdom, at least for now. But you? You need to leave. You’re making this worse.”

Eris stood there, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his mind swirling. For the first time, he actually saw the weight of the situation—saw it for what it was. It wasn’t just about the marriage. It was about her life, her choices, her struggles that had nothing to do with him.

Still, his frustration simmered under the surface. He had been dragged all this way under false pretenses, and now he was being told to leave because the princess was attracted to women, not men. It was absurd. His father’s games had never felt more pointless than they did in this moment.

“What happens now?” he asked, his voice tight, his anger barely contained. “You expect me to just turn around and walk away?”

Leona’s eyes softened for a moment, but only briefly. She uncrossed her arms and stepped toward him. “I don’t want to be trapped in this world anymore, Eris. You need to understand that. The longer you stay, the more complicated everything gets. For both of us. So yes, I’m asking you to leave. For both our sakes. I will tell father that I rejected you."

Eris stared at her, the weight of her words settling deep into his chest. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but this—this was a far cry from what he had been imagining.

For the first time since he’d arrived in Montesere, he wondered if he might have misunderstood everything.

The heat of the Montesere sun beat down on Eris as he walked through the bustling market square, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Leona’s words had taken root in him, stirring up a storm of emotions he wasn’t ready to deal with. He was pissed—hell, he was furious—but he wasn’t about to act on that fury just yet. The last thing he wanted was to reveal how off-balance he felt, especially to the small entourage of his father’s men who had accompanied him. No, he’d keep his irritation hidden, at least for now.

As he moved through the crowded market, his boots clicked against the cobblestones, the chatter of vendors and merchants filling the air. The scents of exotic spices, fresh fruit, and roasted meats mingled in the humid air, making it both overwhelming and suffocating. The faces of Montesere’s people were a mix of curiosity and indifference as he passed, his dark cloak drawing the occasional wary glance.

His hand rested casually on the hilt of his blade, a habit born of the tense nature of his travels, though right now, he didn’t think it would do him much good. Still, the constant pull of the surrounding chaos was a reminder that he was far from home, far from control. But as he wandered deeper into the market, looking for anything to distract him from his thoughts, his gaze caught something unusual.

A flash of movement in the corner of his eye. A figure—small, quick—darted between two stalls. Instinct kicked in before he could process the scene. Eris’s eyes narrowed, and his steps quickened as he moved in pursuit of the mysterious figure. The market was loud, chaotic, with people shouting at one another over prices, but he was focused, following the figure as it weaved through the crowd, dodging market-goers effortlessly.

He was close now, almost within reach, when the figure suddenly took a sharp turn down a narrow alleyway, disappearing from his view. Without missing a beat, Eris veered off course, following the alley. The shadows were deep here, the walls of the buildings rising high on either side, creating a tunnel of coolness that contrasted with the heat of the sun. He pushed forward, his muscles tense, every sense alert.

As he rounded the corner, he collided with something solid—someone solid. He cursed as his hand flew out instinctively to steady himself, grabbing the nearest source of balance. And then, in a flash, his fingers tightened around a wrist.

“Let go of me!” a voice hissed sharply, a blend of anger and surprise.

Eris looked down to see a female—small (atleast shorter than him) with sharp eyes that gleamed with an intensity that matched his own. She was dressed in simple yet sturdy clothing, something that didn’t stand out in the crowded market but suggested she was no stranger to movement or danger. Her hair was messed up after all that running, poking out from different angles, and there was something wild about her, a certain fierceness that intrigued him even as he held her wrist firmly.

“What are you running from?” Eris demanded, his voice low but commanding. He didn’t release her, not yet, his eyes studying her with growing curiosity.

The female yanked her wrist free from his grasp with surprising strength, her eyes narrowing in irritation. “None of your business,” she snapped, taking a step back, her hand instinctively reaching for something at her waist.

Eris’s brow arched, impressed despite himself. “You seem awfully keen to keep your distance,” he said coolly, studying her carefully. “What’s the rush? Or are you just trying to avoid a charming conversation?”

She shot him a look that could’ve cut through steel. “You want to talk? Fine. But first—” She paused, her gaze flicking to the alley behind him.

Eris turned just in time to see a pair of thugs, rough-looking men, appear at the end of the alley, eyeing them with clear hostility. Their eyes immediately locked onto the woman in front of him, and a heavy silence fell over the space.

“I’m not going back,” the female muttered under her breath, and her voice—barely a whisper—carried a weight of finality. But before Eris could respond, she had already moved.

She darted forward with the speed of a striking serpent, her elbow crashing into his chest, forcing him back just enough to clear the space. “Get out of the way,” she hissed, and there was no time to argue.

The two men lunged, and instinct kicked in. Eris reacted without thinking. With a swift, fluid movement, he drew his blade from its sheath, his movements sharp, precise. The first thug tried to grab for him, but Eris’s blade met his wrist with a crack, sending the man staggering back in pain, clutching at the wound. He barely had time to focus on the second man, who had already launched himself at the female.

But before the man could land a blow, the female was on him—her hands quick and efficient, her movements graceful yet deadly. She had a dagger in her hand that gleamed silver in the dim light, and with a quick twist, she disarmed him and sent him sprawling to the ground with a frustrated grunt.

Eris stood there, momentarily stunned by how easily she had handled the thugs. His grip on his sword loosened, and he stepped back as the last thug, now unconscious, crumpled to the cobblestones.

The stranger turned to face him, breathing heavily but not with any fear. If anything, she looked… amused. “You’re lucky I didn’t leave you to deal with them,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Eris’s chest rose and fell with a mix of adrenaline and surprise, but his tone was steady. “And you’re lucky I didn’t leave you to deal with them alone.”

She gave him a look, still incredulous. “I was perfectly fine. Just didn’t want to waste my time. And you,” she added with a smirk, “seem like you could use some lessons in the art of survival.”

Eris’s lips curled into a half-smile. “I’m not the one running from a fight.”

Her eyes sparkled with a challenge, but she didn’t respond, merely tucking her dagger back into her belt. “Name’s Y/N,” she said, offering him a glance that seemed to measure him up. “I don’t have time for pleasantries, but thanks for the assist.”

Eris hesitated, then gave a slight nod, acknowledging her presence, though still not entirely trusting her. There was something about this female—her calm under pressure, her lethal precision—that intrigued him. Perhaps it was more than just a shared moment of chaos.

He straightened, his voice colder now, but still with an edge of curiosity. “Eris. I don’t make a habit of getting involved in other people’s problems.”

Y/N smirked again, and for a moment, their eyes locked. “Maybe you should start,” she replied coolly, then turned on her heel and began walking away without a second glance, her movements as fluid and confident as ever.

Eris stood in the alley, watching her disappear into the crowd, a sense of intrigue buzzing at the back of his mind.

The midday sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows over the bustling marketplace of Montesere. Y/N moved through the stalls, her fingers brushing against the fabrics, jars, and herbs that made up her trade. She had a small corner booth where she sold trinkets—jewelry made from wood and bone, simple but beautiful things—and herbs her mother harvested from the nearby woods. Life here was quiet, mostly peaceful, though nothing spectacular. Middle class at best, but comfortable enough for someone who had learned how to blend in.

She wasn't anyone important, nor did she ever wish to be. Her mother, a simple merchant who had once caught the eye of a powerful Illyrian male-her father-had raised her in this small, thriving town, far from the war camps of the Illyrian mountains. She never knew her father.

The only thing she knew of him were the whispers her mother had shared, tales of a fleeting romance that ended with Y/N's birth. Her father had never returned to them after that night.

Azriel, her half-brother, would never know she existed. They had the same father, but different mothers. He was born into the cold, rigid world of their father's estate in the Illyrian mountains, a place where power and cruelty thrived.

Yet he had risen above them, had become a legend among the world. He was everything Y/N was not.

She didn’t hate him. How could she, when she didn’t even know him? What she hated was the man who tied them together. Their father, who had left her mother to struggle in silence. Their father, who had chosen to raise Azriel in his home, while Y/N was cast aside entirely. She was nothing more than a secret, a mistake. A child of a fleeting affair, abandoned and forgotten.

Y/N had spent her life trying to avoid the idea that her bloodline tied her to such a man. She never went near the Illyrian war camps, never even thought of them. Montesere, far from the courts and the suffocating politics that ruled them, was where she belonged.

Her mother had kept them hidden, not wanting her daughter to be drawn into a world where she wasn’t wanted. And so, Y/N had grown up far from the Illyrians, living simply as a merchant, living simply as herself. She had learned to make peace with her life—or at least, she tried.

A customer approached, snapping Y/N back into the present moment. She offered the bundle of rosemary with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, her thoughts still tangled in the web of her past. She quickly took the coins and returned to her stall, arranging the trinkets with practiced hands. She had to keep going, keep moving forward. She had her life here, in the town that had accepted her. A life without the burden of court politics, without the weight of her bloodline, without the shadow of her half-brother lingering over her.

The sun had already set when Y/N was summoned to the palace. She had no intention of attending any royal feast—she wasn’t a noble, after all—but the request came from the kitchen, where she had worked for the past year as a second job. The head chef had insisted that her skills were needed to prepare some delicacies for the evening’s banquet, and Y/N didn’t dare argue. She needed the work, even if it meant entering the heart of the opulent palace she avoided whenever possible.

She quietly slipped in through the small side door meant for staff, her worn shoes clicking softly on the stone floors of the servants’ quarters.

“Y/N, get upstairs,” called the kitchen head, a short, no-nonsense woman whose gray hair was tied back in a tight bun. “One of the servers called out. I need you to take the platters to the royal table.”

Y/N’s gut clenched. She had no interest in serving the highborn—especially not after the way they looked down on people like her. She’d rather stay in the back with the heat and the smells of roasted meats than parade in front of royalty and their guests.

“I’m not meant for the royal table,” she protested, wiping her hands on her apron and glancing at the mess of ingredients that still needed attention. “I’m fine down here, really.”

“You’re going, and that’s final. We need someone who isn’t afraid to move quickly. You’ll be fine.”

She opened her mouth to argue further, but the look on the head’s face told her it wasn’t worth it. Reluctantly, Y/N grabbed a tray, carefully stacking the food, and made her way up through the servants’ stairs. Her feet were heavy as she ascended, the grand sounds of music and laughter becoming louder the higher she climbed.

When she finally reached the top floor, she barely spared a glance at the grand banquet hall that stretched before her. The sight of the highborn nobles lounging at tables, laughing and drinking, only reminded her of how little she belonged in such a place.

She found the corridor leading to the royal table and, with a sigh, took a deep breath before entering.

It was just her luck that, as she approached the table, she nearly collided with someone.

A deep voice rumbled above her as she froze in place. “Careful.”

She glanced up, heart thumping, and saw none other than Eris--the stranger from the day before.

For a split second, their gazes locked. He stood tall, an imposing figure even amidst the other nobles, his sharp features sculpted into a casual but commanding expression. His lips curled into a smirk when he saw her.

“You again?” he asked, his tone dripping with amusement.

Y/N’s chest tightened, but she managed to keep her composure. “What are you doing here?” she shot back, her tone colder than she intended. “Shouldn’t you be off enjoying yourself?”

Eris chuckled lightly, unbothered by her cool response. “I’m here on business, just like everyone else.”

The words were quiet, but their meaning was clear—Eris wasn’t here just to socialize. There was something more behind his presence, something sharp and calculating that she couldn’t quite place. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she wouldn’t show weakness.

“Right,” she muttered, turning her attention back to the platters in her hands. She had no time to exchange pleasantries with the likes of him. “Excuse me, Your Highness.”

But as she tried to move past him, one of the servers bumped into her from behind, sending the platters nearly toppling. She had barely enough time to steady herself before one of the dishes slid right off the tray, splashing onto the floor in a mess of sauce and roasted meat.

The noise echoed across the hall, drawing the attention of several nearby guests, including Eris, who watched her with an unreadable expression.

“Lovely,” she muttered under her breath, already kneeling to clean up the mess. She had no interest in making a spectacle of herself, but the eyes of the nobles burned into her skin. The last thing she needed was more attention.

Eris, however, stepped forward, his gaze flicking between her and the mess she was attempting to clean up. After a long beat, he knelt beside her, offering a hand. “Let me help.”

Y/N didn’t expect the gesture, and her hand froze mid-air. She glanced up at him, surprise written across her face. “I can handle it,” she replied sharply, brushing the dirt off her hands. She wasn’t about to accept help from someone like him, especially not someone who looked at her with disdain.

But instead of backing away, Eris’ gaze softened, just a fraction, and he smirked. “I can’t let you ruin your evening, can I?”

Her jaw clenched, but she said nothing as he helped her clean up the mess. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but notice how carefully he handled the delicate porcelain of the dish, as though he didn’t want to make a bigger mess.

Once the platter was back in her hands, Y/N stood, brushing the dust from her skirt. “I don’t need your charity,” she said curtly.

Eris stood too, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You don’t seem to want much of anything, do you?” he said, his voice almost teasing.

Y/N shot him a sharp look. “What is it you want, then? To mock me in front of your friends?”

He tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into that wry smile. “You misunderstand, Y/N. I’m not here to mock you.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them crackled in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Y/N wanted to snap at him, to demand that he leave her be, but instead, she took a deep breath and turned away.

“I have a job to do,” she muttered, not looking back.

As she left the room, her heart still racing from the close encounter, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. Something she couldn’t quite explain.

The morning light filtered in through the window, gently coaxing Y/N out of her sleep. She stretched lazily, dreading the day ahead. The rhythm of her life had been predictable lately—work, more work, and quiet nights alone or with her mom. She had almost grown accustomed to the solitude. Almost.

As she brushed her hair and pulled on her outfit, a sudden, sharp knock on her door sent her heart into a rapid flutter. Who could that be at this hour?

Reluctantly, she moved toward the door, her stomach knotting. She wasn’t expecting any visitors, especially not this early. With one hand resting on the doorknob, she muttered to herself, “Great. Another surprise.”

She swung open the door, only to freeze at the sight of the last fae she expected.

Eris Vanserra.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly masked it with a glare. “What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped, crossing her arms. “How did you find me? How did you even know where I live, you psycho?”

Eris smirked, as usual, unfazed by her harsh words. “A prince has his ways,” he said with a wink, stepping closer to the door. “Wouldn’t want you to think you’re living in complete obscurity.”

She stepped back, disbelief crossing her face as she exhaled sharply. “You’re insane. I don’t know you. I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“Let me in. I’m not here to waste your time,” he said, his voice more serious now, though still laced with a hint of amusement.

Y/N hesitated, a thousand questions racing through her mind, but she sighed and stepped aside, allowing him in. “Fine. Whatever. But this better be good.”

Eris walked into the modest home, his sharp eyes scanning the room with an almost calculating gaze. It was humble, far from what he was used to in the luxurious halls of the Autumn Court. Yet there was something about the quiet simplicity of the place that intrigued him.

He turned to Y/N, who stood in the doorway, her arms still crossed. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” she asked, her tone sharp, distrust obvious in her eyes.

He walked over to the small table, setting himself down with the confidence of someone who had always been in control. “I need you to marry me.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her brows furrowing. “What? Are you out of your mind?”

He leaned back, unfazed by her reaction. “Not quite. You see, I have a little problem. My father is—” he paused, his face hardening for a moment, “—insisting that I marry. He is Beron, high lord of Autumn. But there’s a catch. There’s always a catch. I can’t marry just anyone. I need someone specific.”

She blinked, confusion and suspicion creeping into her voice. “What do you mean ‘someone specific’? What does that even have to do with me?”

He shrugged, his smirk never wavering. “You, Y/N. You’re the perfect candidate. A marriage of convenience, one that benefits both of us. You see, my father insists that I marry someone with noble blood, someone who can stand by me and help me secure my place as heir. That's exactly why he sent me here as a last resort after I refused every female he threw at me. He wanted me to marry princess Leone."

Y/N looked at him like he’d just grown another head. “You’re insane. Why would I ever agree to something like that? What would I get out of this?”

Eris’s smile deepened. “Well, a lot more than you think. For one, I can offer you stability—security. I know you’re taking care of your mother, and I have resources at my disposal. I can help her.”

Y/N froze. The mention of her mother sent a shiver down her spine. Her mother’s health had been deteriorating slowly, a sickness that she couldn’t seem to shake, and it weighed heavily on her. “How do you know about my mother?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

Eris didn’t flinch. “I’ve been doing my research. I can help her get the care she needs, the treatment you can’t afford on your own. If you agree to this marriage, we can keep her healthy, and I can make sure she has everything she needs.”

Y/N’s heart beat faster, but she shook her head, not wanting to show how much the offer affected her. “I’m not a noble. I’m not a princess. Your father won’t accept me. He sent you here to marry our princess, not some nobody.”

Eris’s gaze turned thoughtful, and then, with a small, calculating smile, he said, “My father doesn’t know that. He’s never seen the princess from Montesere. He’s never seen the world beyond the seven courts. But you? You could pass as the princess’s sister. Or, we could say half sister. Perhaps a cousin or a distant relative would be acceptable as well.”

That struck a nerve. Y/N stared at him in disbelief. “You’re insane if you think this will work.”

Eris leaned forward slightly. “Not really. Even if he tries his best not to show it, the king of Montesere is in failing health. His daughter, Leona, has been taking control of the kingdom. She and I had a... disagreement, and she’s made it clear she’s not interested in marriage. But she can help us. Trust me, she has her own motive. She can make it look convincing that you’re the princess’s relative. What kind? you can choose that yourself."

Y/N felt the weight of his words, the possibility starting to form in her mind. But she shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. “But why me specifically? Why would you choose me over someone else?”

He took a breath, his eyes steady on her. “You have a certain... resilience. You’re not easily manipulated. And unlike the other female's I’ve met, you don’t fawn over me. That’s rare, you know.” He let out a soft laugh. “Plus, I'm pretty sure you’re smarter than most think.”

Y/N turned her gaze to the floor, trying to process everything. The situation felt so complex, like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, not sure if she should jump or step back. She needed time to think.

“I don’t know,” she said, rubbing her temple, her mind a whirlwind. “I can’t just do this. You’re asking me to lie—to pretend to be someone I’m not. And-and marriage?!”

Eris stood and walked over to her, his expression softening just a fraction. “Trust me, Y/N. You don’t have to pretend. Just a little... adjustment, and we can both get what we want. You’ll have your mother’s care, and I’ll have the alliance I need. My father’s not going to let me out of this marriage arrangement. I need someone, and you’re the one who makes the most sense.”

Y/N looked up at him, her decision weighing heavily in her chest. She could almost feel the pull, the necessity of this arrangement, especially with her mother’s condition.

“If you don’t agree, nothing will change. But if you do... you’ll have the power to change everything,” he added, his tone insistent but strangely soft.

She took a deep breath, the weight of it all crashing down on her. "Fine," she said, reluctantly. "But this doesn’t mean I’m going to like it.”

Eris grinned. “I didn’t expect you to. But we’ll make it work.”

Later that evening, Eris leaned back in the plush chair of his room, a glass of amber liquid swirling lazily in his hand. The flickering firelight danced across his sharp features, his expression one of triumph.

He pulled out a crisp sheet of parchment, the Autumn Court insignia emblazoned at the top. Dipping his quill into the ink, he scrawled out a short, deliberate message:

Father, Your incessant nagging has finally borne fruit. The marriage is set. Expect us soon. -E.V.

A smirk curled his lips as he folded the letter, sealing it with wax. He held it up to the firelight for a brief moment, admiring his handiwork, before handing it to the waiting messenger at the door.

As the messenger disappeared into the night, Eris leaned back once more, a self-satisfied grin plastered on his face. “Got what you wanted, Father,” he muttered to the empty room. “Let’s see if you choke on it.”

The flames crackled louder, as if in agreement, while Eris’s mind began spinning the next steps of his plan. The game was far from over—it had only just begun.

And Eris….Eris would make sure his plan unfolded perfectly.

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Taglist open!

#acotar #fantasy #acotar fanfic #acotar fics #acotar x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris imagine #eris x you #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel acotar

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lunajay33 · 3 months ago

Text

Never the Right Time

•🩶💋🦇🍂•

Summary: Living as a single mother in Velaris was difficult but at least she had her family, the inner circle, but the trauma of living under the mountain still lays heavy on her heart, the nights she shared with an heir of the autumn court by force of amarantha leading to the creation of her daughter, will she find love? Was she ever loved? Maybe her childhood best friend will show her

Pairings: Azriel x f!reader, Eris x f!reader

•Masterlist•

I was never meant to go to the party, I was suppose to have a girls night with Mor but Rhys was feeling anxious and asked me to come along and I’d do anything for my brother after everything he’s done for me

After our mother, sister and father passed we were there for eachother, holding eachother as we wept, Azriel and Cassian doing everything they could to cheer us up in their own ways, I cherished my little family but that night under the mountain changed everything

I was played out to be a gathering of high lords and their guests but she tricked us, Amarantha ruined so many lives, she took my brother away from me for 50 years as her own personal play thing and I was banned from speaking to him, thankfully we could communicate through thoughts, but seeing him break slowly was a different pain

Over the years amarantha became more cruel, she picked me and Eris Vanserra, the eldest of the leader of Autumn court, to have forced intimacy knowing his past with my family, she thought it was funny, night after night forcing us to be together while she watched, many tears were shed between the two of us and I guess along the way we bonded over the trauma, after everytime we’d apologize to eachother profusely even though we both knew it wasn’t either of eachothers fault

But when Feyre my lovely sister in law came and saved everyone I thought maybe Eris would want to keep in contact and help eachother being the only two to know what we felt but the night everyone left he was gone not even a word and at that moment I felt a strange tug in my chest, like I lost something

Rhys took us home after his talk with Feyre, our family swarming us immediately, Feyre came into our lives shortly after, Rhys had her and she had him to grow past what happened under that wretched mountain but I was lost, so many nights feeling like dirt until a month after during a cold night in Velaris I felt shadows swirling along my body holding me like a hug

•Flashback•

“You know I’ve always loved these little guys” I whispered knowing Azriel was stood behind me on the balcony

“You need to leave this room angel” his calm but rough voice soothed my soul for a moment until those feelings of disgust came crawling back

“I can’t Az, I feel like scum what she made me do and now…….” My heart felt like led

“What? You know I’ve always been there for you, I remember when you feel and scraped your knee when you were so little chasing after cas and I, but I came back to you and wiped your tears, and I’m here for you know” he said his scared fingers tracing through mine

“She made me do terrible things az, she thought it would be funny since the family and Eris have bad blood……..she forced us to have sex night after night for 40 years Az, I felt so wrong and Eris is the only one who knows what that felt like and I haven’t heard from him since and now…..now I’m pregnant” I gasped finally letting it all out

His face shocked, the first time I’ve ever seen him express so much emotion

“Oh angel, it’s gonna be okay, whatever happens I’m here” and that’s when I felt alive again, a golden string of love connected between us, my best friend

“My Mate”

•Present•

It’s been a year since then, Mor was over the moon to find out, Cass acted like a teenage girl all giddy for his brother, and Rhys was so proud of both of us, but when they all heard my story and finding out about my pregnancy they supported me, and now I have a beautiful little girl, turns out I was 5 months along when Madja checked on me the day after I told Azriel

So now Azriel and i are raising the cutest little girl, her hair as fiery as autumn, her eyes a deep purple like Rhys’ and mine, she’s everything I ever wanted but I’ve had this nagging feeling that Eris is out there and doesn’t know he has a daughter, even though Azriel stood up and took that fatherly role

I was sat in the living room of the house of wind watching Harlow crawl around and giggle at Azriels little shadows, ever since I had Harlow I felt more at home up here and so me and Azriel permanently moved in, it’s been a smooth year with him, he helped me heal as best he could, he went from my mysterious, quiet best friend, to my mate that used every chance he could to touch me either hugging me, running his hands through my hair, rubbing my belly, telling me every second he could how much he loved me or how beautiful I am, I never thought I’d see that side of him but I felt amazing to be the only one to receive his love

“She’s just like you, that’s why the shadows love her” Azriel whispers in my ear as I lay my head on his shoulder

“She’s like you too you know, she’s a little grump when she doesn’t have me around” hearing his laugh rumble under me made my heart swell

It was silent for a while more until Harlow crawled into my lap and fell asleep, her little blue dress sparkling from the fire shimmering in front of us

“I can hear your thoughts screaming from a mile away what’s got you so distressed Angel?” His eyes pierced into mine like he could read every bit of me

“Don’t be upset…….you know I know that you’re Harlows father and I’m lucky enough to have had you with me through everything but…..there’s this nagging feeling in my chest that Eris doesn’t know, that if I don’t tell him I’ll be letting her down and in the future she’ll wonder why she has her red hair and how she was created and I’d be robbing Eris of a pure love that is a child, he’s not cruel Az, not like how the rest of Prythian sees him, he’s kind and selfless………what do you think?” I chewed on my lip anxiously waiting for him to answer not being able to read what he was feeling

He tucked some hair behind my ear holding my cheek tenderly

“I think you’re right, she’s brought so much joy into my life I never thought I’d experience, who am I to stop you from giving our little girl the love and life she deserves, even if I don’t fully trust Eris I trust you”

“I love you Azriel”

“I love you y/n, more than all the stars in Velaris”

Thankfully the next day Rhys had to go have a highlords meeting in the autumn court and it was a perfect moment to try and find Eris and tell him everything

I dressed Harlow in an emerald green dress that had a sparkly black strap around the middle, I wore a ankle length silk dress a dark grey with a black shoulder covering

“Are you ready my lovely sister and adorable niece?” Rhys asked smiling from the doorway of the nursery, it was so nice to see him smile after what he went through

“I guess as ready as I’ll ever be, I’m nervous Rhys” sucking in an anxious breath, all these feelings I’ve been holding in since under the mountain and all the questions gone unanswered when I needed Eris

“Oh my little star, it’ll be okay, one way or another everything will work out” I sighed picking up Harlow as Rhys wrapped his arms around us both in a warm hug

“Okay im ready”

The air was suddenly crisp with a chill nipping at my exposed skin, the light breeze blowing my hair back as the leave rustled along our feet

“You can open your eyes” Rhys chuckled

“Sorry I’ll never get use to that……..well I guess it’s now or never” we both walked into the Vanserra Mansion, maids leading me one way as guards led Rhys another to the meeting

“Umm excuse me is Eris free by any chance?” I asked the maid infront of me

“I’ll check on master Eris, please wait in the library miss” she smiled as she motioned to the two big oak doors to the left of the hall

I always found comfort in reading, many lonely night trying to escape in the words of the pages, but then Azriel became my mate and nothing could compare to the fantasy and romance he gave me

Pushing inside it was huge, walls upon walls covered with books it was beautiful, noticing a comfy burnt orange couch placed infront of the burning chimney I sat down laying Harlow down in her blanket infront of me as she had fallen asleep, she really is the light of my life even if the way she was created was under horrific circumstances I still love her

I hear the doors open behind me and the room gets warmer and I know it’s Eris, after 40 years of being with him I just know

I stood turning to him standing tall gathering as much courage as I could, his pants a dark brown his vest a deep burgundy embroidered in gold thread, finally meeting his eyes

“Eris”

He gasped starring at me almost stunned

“Eris are you okay?” He finally shook out of whatever daze he was in and that stoic expression was back on

“Y/n it’s been a while, wasn’t expecting to see you” he said holding his hands behind his back

“Why did you leave me Eris?” Just jumping right in was all I could think of, might as well get this over with

“What?” He asked suddenly shocked again

“40 years, she made us do things for 40 years and then we were free and you didn’t even stay to atleast say goodbye, I needed you Eris you were the only one who could understand I looked for you but you were gone…..I spent so many sleepless nights just wanting to talk to you” the emotions were finally spilling out to the person I’ve been craving to talk to

“I’m……I’m so sorry my dear I just….i couldn’t bare to say goodbye, to know that after everything you’d just finally be gone so I thought if I never said goodbye maybe we’d find our way back to eachother again” he sighed showing that emotional side to me like he always did under the mountain

“Maybe things would’ve been different but that’s not the only reason I’m here Eris, I didn’t find out until a while after I got back to Velaris and then coming to terms with the decisions of coming here but……just come over here” a lump forming in my throat not being able to say the words, confused he rounds the coach now facing me and Harlow, picking her up I sat he gently in my lap as I eased back down onto the cozy couch

He dropped to his knees infront of us his one hand gripping my knee as the other gently traced Harlows rosy cheek

“She’s mine” it wasn’t a question it was a statement, anyone that knew our story knew that she was biological his

“She’s beautiful isn’t she” my heart settling

“Lovely” he was completely awe struck

She started stirring blinking open her big eyes instantly giggling when she sees Eris

“She has your eyes and your smile”

“Her name is Harlow, Azriel thought it was perfect” his movement stopped as he looked at me tearing his eyes from our giggling little girl

“And what reason did he have to name my child”

“Eris please don’t be like that with me, you have no idea how hard it was to go through being pregnant and lost but he was there for me he’s my best friend and……he’s my mate”

“What? No that’s impossible”

“How is it impossible, I know mates are rare but is it so wrong for me to have found happiness?” I sigh looking back down at Harlow as she plays with Eris’ fingers

“Just forget it, I’m coming back to Velaris with you, father can not know about you or Harlow, I need to make sure you’re okay”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to pretend you want to be apart of our lives if you don’t want to I’d understand”

“No im coming I need to be there I don’t care if Azriel is your mate I want to be apart of both your lives and protect you from Baron” he smiled brushing my hair back making my heart jump

“Okay you can come but don’t go starting trouble with Azriel please” he smirked

“I’ll try my dear”

We winnowed back home to Velaris, Rhys wasn’t very happy about the decision to bring Eris back with us but he’d do anything for me he always has

I gently laid Harlow down in her crib as to not wake her from her nap after her feeding when I felt shadows swirl around my ankles making a sense of calm set over my body

“Mother above I’ve missed you Az” I sighed turning to see him leaning against the door frame

“How did it go?” He asked stepping closer as he placed his scarred hands on my hips

“Better than I thought but I still feel like somethings unresolved, he already loves her though who wouldn’t” at that he smiled

“Of course he would she takes after you” but I know the next thing I say will wipe that smile away

“He’s here…….he said he wanted to come back here for a while to protect us from baron”

“I know can’t say I’m too happy about him being here but I know the past baron has with people involved with his children and I’ll take that extra protection for you both even if it’s Eris”

“Wow I never thought thee shadow singer would be agreeing with me” came Eris at the door way

Azriel growled as he turned glaring daggers at Eris

“Please don’t fight at least not while I’m here I can’t take it right now” I pleaded already feeling a headache coming on

Both their expressions calmed as they looked at me with the same expression……..Love and that’s when I felt it, the same spark I have for my beloved Azriel was now singing for Eris too, making me gasp and clench my chest

“No” Azriel gasped as he pulled me into his chest

“This doesn’t make any sense” I whisper

“How do you think I felt when I find my mate and she tells me she’s already mated” Eris sighs

“Azriel I’m sorry I still love you this doesn’t change anything……oh mother above I don’t know what to do” I panic scared I’ll lose everything I’ve tried to build and heal from

No body said anything making the panic set in more mixing with nausea, I pushed past Eris in the door way and went straight to Rhys and Feyre

Tears were now streaming freely as I pushed open their bedroom door, they looked at me immediately swarming me with worry

“Y/n my star what’s wrong what’s going on?” Rhys asked as he sat me down on the bench at the end of their bed, Feyre sitting next to me as she rubbed my back soothingly

“Eris……I don’t understand it’s not possible Rhys, and what if Azriel doesn’t want me anymore what if I lose everything oh I’m gonna be sick” I gasp breathing quickly

“Shhhhhh you need to breathe and tell me what happened did Eris hurt you?” He asks brushing my hair back from my face

“Maybe somethings wrong with me maybe the mother made a mistake what if neither of them want me”

“What are you trying to say honey” Feyre says calmly

“Two…….how can I have two mates” they became like statues at my words

“What? I’ve never heard of that happening in all my life” Rhys says squeezing my knee

“Do you think Azriel hates me now, what if I’m disgusting to him now and he leaves me and Harlow what if he never wanted me in the first place and he would’ve never loved me if it weren’t for the mating bond” I continued spiraling

“That would never happen Angel” Azriels voice rings from the door way, we all look up seeing him and Eris there looking almost as distraught as me

“We’ll give you some time” Feyre says taking Rhys’ hand and leaving the room

Azriel kneels infront of me taking my hands as Eris takes feyres spot

“I loved you long before we became mates, I loved the way you always tried to play with us as kids, how you always tried to cheer me up, how you smell like a cupcake and the way your hair shines in the sun, I’ve loved you for so long and this won’t stop that, we can figure it out because I’m never leaving you or my little girl”

“Really you mean it?” I sigh relaxing at his heart warming words

“Of course my angel, maybe the mother thought you were so special and so filled with love you were meant to have two mates to spread the joy you give” Azriel rarely got this emotional with me

“I love you Az, always” I lean down placing my forehead against his sending a jolt of love down our bond

“Not as much as I love you, forever”

The moment was interrupted by Eris clearing his throat

“I didn’t mean to cause you so much trouble my dear” he said soothingly, he always talked to me like I was fragile under the mountain and I can’t deny how he only treats me with that kindness

“It’s not your fault anymore than it is mine, just give this time for me to figure out how I feel”

“Of course I’d give you all the time in the world my dear……..I’ll go check on Harlow” he said as he placed a gentle kiss to my cheek before leaving me and Azriel alone

“You know I could go to that bakery you love and get you your favorite cookies”

“You read my mind”

#azriel x you #azriel one shot #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader x eris #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #acotar oneshot #acotar fanfiction

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starryevermore · 10 months ago

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my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand ✧ azriel

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: azriel x vanserra!fem!reader

summary: azriel tries to fix the mess he made. you almost let him.

word count: 4,529

warnings?: angst city™ bitch, dual povs, threats of death, traumatic childbirth, azriel begging for forgiveness, open ending, there will be no other parts to this, not proofread

PART ONE

As the only daughter of Autumn, your relationship with your brothers was quite different than their relationships with each other. You were no threat to the throne. A female could never be High Lord. Yet, that did not let you free from Beron’s iron tight grip on his family and their perception by Prythian. The only thing a female was good for was marrying well and producing children. If you ever proved yourself to be an embarrassment to the Vanserra family, you learned the limitless bounds of the former High Lord’s wrath. Your brothers would be there to help mend you, offering comfort in the best ways they could. It wasn’t much, but it meant a lot to you.

It damn near broke your heart when you realized you had to leave them behind to be with your mate. Beron would never—ever—allow you to be mated to an Illyrian brute. Knowing that your brothers would only be hurt if you told them, you decided that Eris was the best option in confiding your plan to run. Together, you left a note saying that you were leaving to be with your mate and he helped you cross Autumn’s border. You prayed to the Mother that Beron was not too cruel to him, or your other brothers, when he discovered your disappearance. You knew you would likely not see them again, and you hoped they might forgive you for that. Then everything Under the Mountain happened—you were trapped in Velaris for fifty years, all too aware that you would never find out if they did.

That was the one blessing, you supposed, of returning to the Autumn Court all these decades later. With Beron gone and Eris as High Lord, it was easy to fall back in with your family. Though Eris was ready to march down to the Night Court and burn Azriel where he stood, and your other brothers were ready to follow, things calmed down in the end. The rage still simmered, hovering just below the surface. All it would take was one wrong move by the Night Court and any alliances Eris had previously forged would go up in smoke.

Despite your request for no further correspondence, the Night Court continued to periodically reach out to you. Mostly Feyre because she had been your friend, but occasionally Rhys who would inquire about the status of your pregnancy. Though he never said it outright, you knew it was to find out if your babe had wings. His motives, you were unsure. Was it out of concern for your wellbeing? You recalled how panicked he had been during Feyre’s pregnancy. Perhaps he was worried about you for your sake. A larger part of you thought it was out of concern for his brother. That if your babe had wings, then it would mean you would surely die. And if you were to die, could you find it in your heart to let your mate be by your side one last time? Your skin itched at the thought of Azriel anywhere near your babe.

Truthfully, you didn’t know. Whenever your healer, a kind elderly fae named Brigid, would ask if you wanted to know, you would always decline. You didn’t want to experience your pregnancy knowing there was an expiration date. You wanted to live it, to enjoy it. Because Nesta could not bargain with the Cauldron any longer. Not even her, in all her power, could save you. You would rather spend your final days healing from Azriel’s betrayal and preparing for the birth of your child than worry about the inevitable.

Besides, you were worried that the loyal shadow wound up wrist would run to Azriel at the first sign of harm to you.

Eris was not fond of that choice. He was certain that he could find a way to save your life should it come down to it. You were less convinced. But he was a prideful male, and you had learned long ago to not get in the way of a male’s ego. If he wanted to be delusional, so be it. That didn’t mean you had to feed into those delusions.

Today, however, was a day of celebration. The Fall Equinox had come and so the Forest House was alive with fae from across the courts. The Night Court wasn’t present—hadn’t even been extended an invitation, if Eris was to be believed. You admired his loyalty to you, but you knew the Night Court was not an enemy to be made. To be their ally was to be protected. In a land still wrought from the effects of Amarantha and the King of Hybern, it would be too costly to be making enemies of a court so powerful.

You ignored those concerns today, trying to focus on the festivities. It was hard to enjoy them. You were at the end of your pregnancy. Brigid had warned against your attendance, arguing that you needed to rest. But you were stubborn like your brothers. If you wanted one more night of revelry, you should have it.

That was, ultimately, your downfall.

You were dancing with one of your brothers, Crispin. Or, at the very least, dancing the best you could. You were sure it looked pathetic—a far cry from the elegance Beron beat into you. You were having too much fun to care. So much fun, you almost missed the pain shooting through.

You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips. Crispin froze, extending his arms out to help steady you. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Do you need to sit?”

“The babe—there’s something wrong with the babe,” you manage, keeling over from the pain.

“Give me one godsdamned reason not to gut you where you stand.”

Azriel barely glanced up at the male in his house. It was only a matter of time, he mused, before one of your brothers came for him. For some reason, Lucien hadn’t been particularly high on the list he made, ranking the likelihood of each brother to come breaking down the door. Mostly because Lucien spent most of his time in the mortal lands, far away from news of what Azriel had done. But, eventually, all word gets out.

“Because I deserve a more painful death than gutting me would provide.”

Lucien’s hand wound itself in Azriel’s hair, yanking it back. A blade pressed against his throat. “Damned right you do. She was always too fucking good for you.”

“I know.”

“Do you know how many males would kill for a mate as kind as her? Do you know how many males begged Beron for her hand? You are lucky she ever spared you the time of day,” Lucien hissed.

Again, Azriel said, “I know.”

And he did. Mother above, he did. Every day of the last nine months, Azriel had been kicking himself for treating you the way he did. How had he misread all of the signs? Why did he let his anxieties, his worries of not being good enough for you, cloud his judgment? Azriel found himself wishing he could turn back time, stop himself from ruining the best thing he ever had.

Now, he was left in the dark. His friends scarcely spoke to him. Ever since Feyre and Rhys learned of his accusations, word spread among the Inner Circle. Cassian looked at him like he didn’t even know his brother. Mor sneered the first time she saw him. Amren hadn’t said a word to him. And Nesta…He was sure she was going to rip his wings off and throw him off the House of Wind. Even Elain looked at him as if he were a monster. Sometimes, though, Feyre would fill him in on the few replies you sent to her letters. And if he asked pathetically enough, Rhys would send you inquiries about your wellbeing. Those never got a reply.

Azriel almost wished he had a mission to go on to distract himself. To able to take his pain out on another helpless soul. But Rhys had barred him from his work. A punishment for his actions, Azriel was sure. Rhysand would never call it that. Always said something about giving Azriel time to reflect. But Azriel was tired of reflecting. Reflection wouldn’t undo what he did. Reflection wouldn’t bring you back.

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a male,” Lucien spat. “Hybern should have killed you. It would have spared the rest of us from your waste of a life.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. It would have killed you, he was sure, if he had died. But at least you would know he loved you. At least you wouldn’t be aching because your mate proved he didn’t trust you. You wouldn’t have your babe, but at least you could be assured that Azriel would never accuse you of infidelity.

“Have you seen her?” Azriel croaked.

Lucien released his hold on Azriel’s hair. He fell forward, but didn’t turn to face the male. He could hear Lucien’s snarl as he said, “Color me surprised when I return from the mortal lands to learn from Elain that you cast my sister aside, made her leave her home, because you refused to listen to her. You’re lucky that Eris answered my letter with haste, explaining she was safe in Autumn. Consider yourself even luckier that the High Lord made me wait to come here before I got that answer. Do you have any idea how far she had to travel on foot? You made a pregnant female—your mate—travel through Winter alone.”

Azriel held back his sob.

“A farmer had to be the one to bring her to Forest House. She would have died if not for his kindness.” Lucien’s hand curled around Azriel’s throat, his nails digging in. “Their blood would have been on your hands if they did.”

“I-I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t—”

Hurt,a shadow whispered. Azriel’s head snapped up. He wrenched himself out of Lucien’s death grip, searching for the shadow he hadn’t seen in months. Most of the others had stuck around, hissing their disapproval in his ear. But he knew one had gone missing, prayed to the Mother that it was making sure you were safe when he couldn’t. Come quick.

“What?” Azriel breathed out. No. No. It couldn’t mean you. You were safe, in Autumn. You were under your brothers’ protection. No harm should ever befall you there. None…Unless—

She’s hurt. The babe is stuck. Come—quick.

Azriel jumped out of his seat, moving faster than he had in months. This couldn’t be. The babe didn’t have wings. Surely, if the babe had wings, you would have told Rhysand. You would have told someone. Unless, you didn’t know. He had to get to you. He had to see you.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“She’s gone into labor,” he managed. The room felt like it was spinning. Was he about to lose you forever? No. No, he couldn’t handle that. He could handle you alive, hating him forever. But to lose you like this…For you to not know how deeply sorry he was, he couldn’t live with that. He would sooner follow you in death than live in a world without you. “The babe has wings.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “They’ll kill you if you go. They’ll make me look like mercy.”

“I-I need to get Madja. She has experience with this. I need to give her a shot.” Azriel sniffed, praying the tears wouldn’t fall. Not now. “Even if she never lets me see the babe, I need to do everything in my power to give them a chance to live.”

Azriel half-expected Lucien to drive his dagger into his heart. Instead, his lip curled. “Go. Before I change my mind. I’ll warn my brothers of your arrival. They will welcome Madja’s help. But whatever they decide to do with you, I will not interfere.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not doing this for you.”

“I know. But…thank you.”

Your screams do not sound like your own. It sounded like, felt like, it was coming from someone else. Nothing about this, truthfully, felt like it was happening to you. You were vaguely aware of your mother on your right side, Eris on your left. Brigid was between your legs, trying to help the babe into a proper birthing position. Somewhere beyond the closed, oak door you could hear your brothers Crispin and Heath shouting at someone. Oh, you hoped they were terrorizing the servants.

“You’re alright, my love,” your mother was saying as she stroked your hair, “you’re doing so well.”

Your scream was your only response. Fuck. You had never experienced pain quite like this before. Not even Beron’s flames compared to this. It was a miracle you hadn’t passed out yet. Though, the thought of shutting your eyes and closing out the rest of the world was quite tempting. No. You needed to stay strong. If not for yourself, then for your babe. You had to give her a fighting chance.

Her. You were so certain your babe was a female. Brigid had never told you, because you had never asked. If you had known, the gender or the status of wings, you would want to tell Azriel. It would be the one thing, you were certain, that would break your resolve. You weren’t sure if you ever wanted the shadowsinger back into your life, but…Well, he had always want a babe that looked just like you. A little princess to dote on. To show how to fly.

Another scream ripped through you. It felt like your soul was being torn out. Like sharp talons raked down your body, gripping at your essence, ready to take you back to the Mother. You wouldn’t go back. Not until your babe was born. After that…If the Mother wanted you, she could take you. Your babe would be in safe hands with your family.

Desperately, you tried to search out for the shadow that not left your side in nine months. It had become a source of comfort. Its cold nature soothed the flames of Autumn burning inside of you. It reminded you of home. But when your eyes flicked to your wrist, then down your arm, it was gone. How long had it been gone? Why did it abandon you when you finally needed it? Where did it—

Something slammed against the oaken door.

Eris’s head snapped up to glare at the wood. “What in the Cauldron is happening out there?” he hissed.

“Go, check,” your mother said. “We need to keep this room as calm as possible. If your brothers are picking fights out there, then they’ll only make it worse. She cannot afford any unwarranted stress.”

Eris gave a tight nod and stepped away from your side. He didn’t even make it halfway across the room before the door slammed open, the wood splintering. A body hit the floor. Your vision was too blurred to make out who, or the person who stepped over him, approaching your bed. That is, until she was close enough for you to recognize the all-too-familiar face.

“Madja?” you managed. “How—”

“He brought me here,” she said, stepping in between your legs. Brigid made room for you, taking the opportunity to move away to grab some fresh towels. Madja tutted at the sight of you, then got to work.

“I don’t want him here!” The words tumbled out before you could stop them.

You barely caught Madja glancing over to the fallen figure. In the haze, you finally recognized the wings. Azriel. He was here. Your breath caught. That was why the shadow had left you. It had gone to find him. Was it out of loyalty to its master? Or was it out of concern for you? A little shadow escaped from Azriel, speeding back to you. The cold thing stroked your face, as if to comfort you, to apologize for leaving you alone.

Azriel’s head lifted. You were grateful you couldn’t see the hurt in his eyes. Crispin and Heath each grabbed an arm, dragging your mate back up to his feet. Though you all knew he could easily fight them off, he didn’t make a single move. Purple was already beginning to blossom on his exposed bits of skin. Had that been why you heard your brother’s shouting?

Too pained to stand the look of him, you focused back on Madja. “Better or worse than Feyre?” Your voice was tight. It took every bit of your energy to not roar in pain.

“The babe is starting to come out, but her wings are stuck,” she said. “We’ll have to break bones to get her out.”

“Mine or hers?” you nearly cried.

“Both.” Madja glanced up at you. She masked her sorrow well, but you saw through it. You knew the next thing she was going to say, and you knew your answer, too. “I don’t know that I can save you both.”

“Her. Save her.”

“NO!” Azriel shouted.

You barely processed Eris’s body slamming into Azriel. He let out a low groan at the contact. If you weren’t already in so much pain, you would have been able to feel how much that hurt through the bond. You wondered how much Azriel could feel. For the last nine months, you had kept your end closed. But after going into labor, it took too much effort to push him away.

“You are the last godsdamned person who gets to make decisions about her,” Eris hissed. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you in the fucking dungeon—”

“I already gave him the whole speech, brother.”

Lucien? How did he get here? How did he know?

Azriel ignored your brothers. To Madja, he pleaded, “Give her a chance—both of them a chance.”

Eris’s fist landed square on Azriel’s jaw. “Don’t even look in her fucking direction.”

“All of you, out!” your mother shouted. The males all froze in place. “What did I say about removing unnecessary stress? Eris, take him to the library and let him stay there until this is over. The rest of you, make yourselves useful.”

Your attention turned back to Madja, ignoring the sulking males, as her cold hand touched your knee. “We have to make a decision, dear.”

From the corner of your eye, you watched as Azriel stiffened. He wouldn’t be pleased with you, you were sure. And perhaps it was cruel to subject him to the cold pain of losing a mate. But that was mercy compared to what he did to you.

To Madja, you said, “Do what you must.”

Azriel stared at the oak doors of the library. Eris and Lucien had been left at his guards while Crispin and Heath disappeared to gather more supplies for Madja and Brigid. He paid them and their snarls no mind. Nothing could distract him from your wails of pain echoing through Forest House. Every inch of him, every fiber of his being, called for him to go to you. To be by your side. It was only your words that kept him still.

“I don’t want him here!”

Five words was all it took for you to rip Azriel’s heart out. How you did it so succinctly, struck him right to the core, when it took an illogical rant from him to break yours was a mystery to him. Worse yet, Azriel wasn’t sure you were even aware of what you were saying. You looked like you were barely processing Madja’s appearance. Did you truly want him gone?

Visions of your near-lifeless eyes looking at him flashed through his mind. He was going to lose you today. Was it a kinder fate for you to die than live in a world with him? Would things be different if he hadn’t fucked things up so spectacularly? Azriel imagined you in your shared home, your family—the Inner Circle—surrounding you. Love for you would be in the air, not contempt for him. Would that have been enough to save you?

He shook his head. He was being ridiculous. Your family—the Vanserras—loved you, too. Perhaps more than the Inner Circle. While his family was content to ignore his existence, yours was willing to strike him down where he stood for even deigning to show his face in Autumn. He was sure Crispin and Heath would have actually killed him if they hadn’t drove his body through the door first.

Azriel flinched as another scream ripped down the halls.

“Don’t act like this is painful to you,” Eris snarled.

Azriel managed to lift a glare to him. “I can feel everything she does. If she is hurting, so am I.”

“That mattered little to you when you accused her of being a whore,” Lucien said.

“And I will regret to the day I die. I will spend the rest of my days atoning for what I did.” Azriel lifted his chin. “But would killing me save her?”

Eris stepped closer to him. “Don’t even pretend to care about her. Where have you been these last nine months? Where were you when her morning sickness left her unable to leave the bed for days, unable to keep anything down? When she would go to Brigid for updates on the babe? When she couldn’t even pick out things for a nursery because the perfect one was left behind in the Night Court?”

He jerked like he had been slapped. Sometimes, he could still feel the sting of Feyre hitting him. Until today, she had been the only one brave enough to hurt him for what he did. Azriel would take every beating, though, if it meant you would live.

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, but fell short. Silence rung through Forest House. Your screams—they had stopped. The cries of a babe did not fill their place. He tugged desperately at the bond, hoping to feel your pull. Nothing. There was nothing.

No.

No, he couldn’t lose you.

No.

Against his better judgment, Azriel fled from the library. He raced down the hall, the eldest and youngest Vanserra hot on his heels. He needed to see you. He needed to know that you still lived. Perhaps you were asleep. Birth was exhausting. Azriel remembered Feyre slept for hours after having Nyx. Perhaps you were doing the same. But then why wasn’t the babe crying?

The door was ajar when he reached it. It took little effort to push it open, to open himself to the scene on the other side. On the far side of the room, Madja and Brigid had the babe. A beautiful little girl. His beautiful little girl. Azriel’s eyes flicked back to you. Your mother was covering your body with a blanket. Were you truly sleeping? No, you were too still, even by fae standards. Your chest didn’t rise. Your eyelids didn’t flutter.

Azriel’s gaze fell to your limp hand hanging from the edge of the bed. He sank to his knees, reaching for it. He half-expected Eris or Lucien to rip him away, to throw back back over the border. But no one touched him.

“Let him mourn,” he heard your mother say.

“He doesn’t deserve it.” Whether that was Eris or Lucien, he wasn’t sure.

“It matters little what he deserves now.”

You couldn’t be gone. You couldn’t be. Somewhere beyond, a faint cry rang through the room. A weight lifted off his chest. At least the babe survived. At least Madja managed that. But…None of that mattered if you weren’t here, too. None of it mattered if you couldn’t hold her.

A hand touched his shoulder. He lifted his head to stare up at your mother. “Her name is Bronwyn.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“We’re going to take her to a wet nurse. But…you may stay for as long as you like. Ignore my sons. They are in pain, too.”

“Thank you,” he said again.

Silence filled the room again. Azriel was certain he was alone again, until he heard padding of footsteps along the wooden floor. He didn’t have to look up to know it was Madja.

“She could still live. It is not…It is not the worst birth I have seen. I have seen weaker women pull through from more horrible circumstances.”

“Why do you tell me this?”

“We believe, when people are in this state of limbo, they can still our world. Talk to her. You might be able to pull her back.”

“She wouldn’t come back for me.”

“Then why did she nearly tell her mother to come get you?” Madja patted his shoulder. “Food for thought. Do as you wish, Spymaster. I will be back to check on her later.”

Azriel did not move for three days and three nights. Despite what Madja had said, he couldn’t find any words to share with you. Everything felt wrong. What was he supposed to say? Apologies would scarcely suffice. Should he beg? It was tempting, but he wasn’t sure his pathetic snifflings would return you, either.

Every so often, your mother would come in, Bronwyn in her arms. She would lay the babe on your chest and coo about how much she was growing already. Lucien would come in to tell you about what he had been doing in the mortal lands. Eris was rant about the politics of being a newly minted High Lord. Heath would talk about the latest book he had read. Crispin came once—sobbed about how he should have realized what was happening, should have gotten you help sooner.

Everyone else had something to say. Something more moving, more earth-shattering, than whatever grovel he would wretch up.

But on the fourth morning, as the morning sunlight began to stream onto you, he lifted himself from his knees. There was just enough space beside you that he could curl up to. It cramped his wings, but he was willing to ignore the pain.

“I should have cherished you,” he whispered. His throat was tight. “I should have trusted you. I do, trust you I mean. Before you, I never knew unconditional love. Even through the last few centuries together, it still boggled my mind that you could look at me and find something worth loving. When I came home that day, I was so scared that you had finally found something better. It will never excuse what I did.”

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Come back, my wildfire. Not for me. I could spend the rest of my life making up for that mistake, but it would never be enough to warrant your forgiveness. But your family…They shouldn’t be hurt because of what I did. Come back for them. Come back for Bronwyn. Come back, and you will never have to see me again unless you so wish it. Just…live.”

Azriel’s eyes squeezed shut. He felt wetness drip down his face, onto your soft skin where his face was pressed. “Please, live.”

Your eyes opened.

#azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x fem!reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x female reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fan fiction #azriel fanfic #azriel fan fic #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #starrywrites #starryevermore

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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 11 months ago

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Where The Shadows Dance - The Proposition (i)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

CHAPTER I: The Proposition

SUMMARY: Beron has invited the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court to spend a week in the Autumn Court. Azriel and the rest of the Court of Dream believe he has ulterior motives, and they are correct - but these motives come as a surprise.

WARNINGS: Um. Misogyny. love that for us (i hate the autumn court). swearing (the f-word (as in fuck)), y/n has daddy issues (bc beron is a cunt) and uh... i haven't read acotar in ages so apologies for any OC characteristics and forgetting everything about the autumn court. but i did read HOFAS recently so hopefully az isn't too out of character. also tw: beron

NOTE: so obviously Y/n is the daughter of the autumn court. we know they have red hair BUT i want this to be as less oc as possible so y/n has your colour hair and u can make up ur own story about why but mine is that she's 'rebellious' (as you'll see later on) and just dyes her hair. also special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for proofreading my work! i love you guys<3

WORDS: 2.7K

Azriel glowered at the male sat across from him. Eris either didn't notice or pretended he didn't care as he reclined in his chair, one arm over the back and looking for all the world he was in his own home, rather than the Court Of Nightmares.

"Eris," Rhys drawled, "if you have any information to help us with this meeting with your father, we would appreciate it immensely."

The High Lord of the Autumn Court had invited the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court to his castle for a week, as a gesture of good will, and an attempt to strengthen their bonds. Of course, the court was suspicious of the intent behind such actions. Although Azriel had sent his contacts in to find any sliver of information, his spies had come back empty-handed.

Eris rolled his shoulders, seemingly at ease despite being surrounded by the Night Court's most deadly warriors. "I am not entirely sure what he wants, but I assume it has something to do with my sister, Y/n."

Y/n, the only daughter of the High Lord of Autumn. She was quite young, by Fae standards – only seventy-nine. She had not fought in the war against Hybern, and had very little training according to Azriel's knowledge.

"Why her?" Feyre asked carefully.

Azriel heard the shift in her tone. She was wondering, as they all were, what Beron intended to do with her. The Autumn Court was just as backwards as the Court Of Nightmares, and females were considered little more than property.

Eris simply shrugged, either not hearing the implications in the High Lady's tone, or simply not caring. "That is all I know, I'm afraid."

Cassian grunted, his eyes still on the heir to the Autumn throne. No one was particularly happy about the bargain they had struck with him, but he seemed to be a willing ally. For now.

"What can you tell us about her?" Feyre inquired.

Eris watched her for a moment, before responding, "She is… wild. Untamed, and unpredictable."

Despite his words, Azriel sensed a flicker of admiration in his tone. Azriel stored that piece of information away. It could be a weakness of Eris's, his sister. They may need to exploit it one day.

"Sounds like my kind of lady," Mor grinned.

The fact that Mor bothered speak in Eris's presence was a gift that the heir did not appreciate enough. Azriel glanced sidelong at her, noticing the way her unbound golden hair cascaded down her back, and the amount of skin her low-cut red dress revealed. Once, looking at her like that would have sent Azriel mad with longing. But after she had confided in him, after she had revealed she could never love him back because she preferred females… some part of him had been relieved to let her go.

Eris scoffed at Mor's comment. "Yes, well, she irritates my father to no end."

There was a silence, and Azriel wondered whether Y/n annoyed Eris as well, before Rhys sighed, "Well, if that's all, Eris, I'm sure you have places to be."

The dismissal was clear in the High Lord's tone, and Eris rose from his chair with a nod before leaving the council room. Everyone was silent as the male left, all eyeing each other. Feyre and Rhys were looking at each other, a clear indication of their telepathic conversation, and Azriel watched the two with a hint of jealousy. Of course he was happy from them – finding one's mate was one of the most fulfilling things one could experience. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for his own. It seemed he was the last of the court to find his mate, and he had a fear that he would never find them.

"Has anyone heard much about this Princess?" Cassian asked, looking towards Azriel.

Azriel shook his head. "She is one of the most guarded individuals in Prythian. My sources struggle to even see her."

"Very guarded indeed," Rhysand murmured.

The Court of Dreams debated between themselves the possibilities of what the High Lord of Autumn could want regarding his daughter. Azriel had a few of his own suspicions – to have her taken away, or perhaps trained in combat – but none of them seemed accurate.

After a while of debating plausible explanations for Beron's offer, the court decided to head home to the City of Starlight in order to get a good night's rest before their meeting tomorrow. The High Lord and High Lady were going, as well as Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan was not permitted in the Autumn Court, so she would stay behind with Nesta to hold down the fort while they were gone. Amren would also be travelling to the Autumn Court, and although the monster she was no longer crawled beneath her skin, she made most people wary.

As he lay in his bed, Azriel couldn't help but wonder what awaited him tomorrow. He was curious about what the Autumn High Lord wanted, especially regarding his daughter, although he was also wary. Although Autumn had helped them in the war, they couldn't be trusted. Azriel fell into an uneasy sleep, cautious of the days to come.

Azriel awoke at dawn the next day. They weren't due in the Autumn Court until the evening, so Azriel decided to go through his morning exercises. The Valkyries weren't up yet, so he went through his warm ups, taking his shirt off halfway through. The morning was uneventful, and Azriel ran over the information they had in his head. Eris had suggested that Beron may be seeking a favour of some sort, so perhaps it had something to do with that.

The day passed by quickly, and soon enough, those travelling to the Autumn Court had gathered in the living room of the River House, just as they had planned. Azriel and Cassian wore their scaled, black armour, while Rhys and Feyre wore their finery. Rhysand held his mate's arm, and Azriel grabbed onto Cassian, before winnowing to the entrance of the Autumn Court castle.

It was big, and made of stone. It was quite majestic, if Azriel was being honest – high towers and red and orange flags waving in the wind, large windows showcasing rich carpets and tapestries inside.

Rhys led the way, Feyre on his arm and Cassian and Azriel following closely, and Amren trailing behind. Guards monitored them as they passed through the halls, their armour heavier the closer they got to the throne room. Azriel marked each one as they passed, something he was sure Cassian and Rhysand were also doing.

The doors to the throne room opened, and revealed the High Lord of the Autumn Court sat atop a dais, the Lady of Autumn seated beside him. Beron's sons stood on his left, and his daughter was seated to her mother's right.

Azriel paused at the sight of her. She was beautiful, even by Fae standards. Her h/c hair shone in the Fae light liming the walls, piled neatly on her head in a braid crown. Y/n’s e/c eyes sparked with mischief and curiosity, skimming over the members of Azriel's Court, until they finally landed on him. Her gaze was mesmerising, and Azriel couldn't find it in himself to break it. A small smirk played at the corners of her mouth, as if she were aware of the effect she had on him, although Azriel's mask of icy cold had not budged even an inch. Azriel quickly tore his eyes away from the Daughter of Autumn, marking the guards posted by the doors and the dais, and counting the weapons each of Beron's sons carried.

"Beron," Rhysand purred, ever the arrogant High Lord, the mask back up despite the High Lords' meeting all those months ago. "So lovely to see you again. Thank you for inviting us to stay."

Beron rose from his dias and stalked towards the High Lord of the Night Court. Everyone tensed as he stepped closer and closer, and Azriel subtly reached for the dagger at his side. Beron's blood would spray across the marble floors the second Azriel suspected he would harm his High Lord or Lady. But Beron simply held his hand out, and Rhys gripped it tightly, his eyes holding a small amount of surprise.

"Rhysand. A pleasure to have you here," Beron replied. Azriel didn't miss the slight strain in his voice. "You must be hungry. Shall we?"

Beron inclined his head to the dining room and led the way with Rhysand and Feyre at his side. He hadn't even acknowledged the High Lady, something that made Azriel want to rip the male’s head off, but Rhys got there first.

“And what about my High Lady?” Rhys purred, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Beron’s smile faltered slightly, and he glanced at Feyre with a barely concealed look of distaste, as if he would rather rip off his own toenails than address a female with the same amount of respect that he would expect. Azriel felt a protective anger surge through him, and he watched carefully, curious as to what the High Lord’s next move would be.

“Of course,” Beron said, his voice dripping with fake courtesy. “My apologies, Lady Feyre. Of course it is wonderful to have you both visit.”

Cassian gave Azriel a look that said, And-what-about-us? Aren't-we-wonderful?

Azriel sent him a look back that said, Shut-the-fuck-up.

Beron led them all to the dining room, the Autumn colours present everywhere they looked. The chairs were all high-backed, and Azriel knew that Beron did not care if he and Cassian would be comfortable with their wings. Everyone took their seats — Beron at the head, Rhysand to his left, and Feyre beside him. Azriel sat next to his High Lady, Cassian taking his seat adjacent to the shadowsinger. The Lady of Autumn (still not a High Lady, despite the fact that Viviane was also now a High Lady) sat to Beron’s right, Eris beside her, and Y/n next to him, and across from Azriel. Azriel felt Y/n’s eyes on him, and he met her gaze. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look of anticipation mixed with mischief.

Dinner was served, an array of meats and vegetables placed on the table by servants, mostly lesser fairies. None of them looked Azriel in the eye, and he wondered if it was because they knew who and what he was, or if they’d been trained not to. Y/n, however, had no such qualms about this, and stared at the shadowsinger unabashedly.

Beron struck up a conversation with Rhys — small talk, something that Azriel internally cringed at, because it was definitely just to fill the silence. Ever the gracious guest, Rhysand responded in kind, although Azriel knew he was wondering what Beron’s ulterior motives were.

“How do your siphons work?”

The table went silent as Y/n spoke, her cunning eyes trained on Azriel. Beron looked at his daughter with a hint of irritation gleaming in his eyes, as if it was unacceptable for her to speak without permission. Azriel glanced at Rhysand, who was watching the daughter of Autumn with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

“How do you know that is what they are called?” Rhys asked, his eyes trained on the only daughter of Autumn.

She shrugged, and answered, “I read a lot in my spare time. I remember reading about the Illyrians, and their siphons. If I remember correctly, Illyrians tend to possess only one, yet the two of you hold several.”

“There is no need to question our guests, Y/n,” Beron scolded firmly.

Y/n frowned. “I was simply curious.”

“Do not speak back to me,” Beron reprimanded, a burning fury now evident in his eyes.

Y/n slumped back into her chair slightly and bowed her head. “My apologies, Father.”

Beron didn’t even acknowledge his daughter before he turned back to Rhys, as if her mere existence didn’t deserve another moment of his time. Azriel watched the female in front of him as she stared at her plate, and felt a sense of sympathy for her. Azriel owed her nothing — he did not know the female in front of him, did not know if she even deserved his sympathy — and yet he felt the need to protect, to wipe that blank expression off of her face.

“Our siphons act as a conduit for our raw power,” Azriel offered, causing Y/n to look up. Beron paused, glancing at the shadowsinger and the Autumn daughter, and Azriel continued, “It helps to control our magic, to make it precise and nimble, rather than a messy outburst of power.”

Cassian gaped at his brother, as if he had never heard that many words come out of Azriel’s mouth in one sitting. While that was an inaccurate statement, it was true that Azriel never tended to speak in front of new people. He wasn’t sure why he had done so anyway. But Y/n bowed her head in thanks at the information, perhaps still wary of answering and speaking without her father’s permission, but Azriel had observed a small, triumphant light in the female’s eyes at his reply.

Azriel watched as that gleam faded when Beron cleared his throat, gaining the attention from everyone in the room.

“There is a reason why I have asked you here,” Beron stated.

“Surprise, surprise,” Cassian muttered, and Azriel elbowed him.

Beron glanced at Cassian for all of a second before continuing, “There has been an attempt on my daughter’s life.” Stunned silence met Beron’s words, and Azriel caught Y/n rolling her eyes. That raised his suspicion — were Beron’s words false, or did she simply believe it was not an issue? “If it appeals to you,” Beron went on, “I seek to employ one of your Night Court warriors as her personal bodyguard.”

Rhys blinked once, his only sign of surprise. Beron looked at Rhys expectantly, and Azriel could have guessed the thoughts that flew around Rhys’s head.

“Why one of my warriors?” Rhys inquired carefully.

“I hoped it might help strengthen bonds between our courts,” Beron expressed.

Azriel watched the High Lord of the Autumn Court carefully. There seemed to be no ulterior motives hidden within his demeanour — he did not shift nervously, none of his facial features even so much as twitched.

“And say I agree to this,” Rhys said casually, “how long would you hold onto one of my warriors?”

“Until the threat against my daughter’s life is eliminated,” Beron answered.

There was silence for a few moments while everyone processed what was happening. Azriel looked at Eris to see the male’s eyes on his father. They were carefully guarded, a mask in place to ensure no one was able to discern what he was thinking. Azriel turned his gaze to Y/n, and a shadow slithered up by his ear.

She does not believe it to be such a serious matter, the shadow whispered. She wishes for this dinner to be over so she may go back to her quarters and finish her novel.

Azriel blinked in surprise at the information from his shadow. Usually, his shadows would tell him what others could not see and hear — but this felt almost like too much. Yes, his shadows had a tendency to recognise when someone was lying, or what weapons they were concealing, but to give him a person’s unvoiced opinion on a matter was something new.

But indeed, with her chin propped up on her delicate hand, and twirling her dessert fork in the other, she appeared to be completely disinterested. Azriel turned his gaze back to the male beside her, to see Eris already watching his sister. His eyes were cold and calculating as he regarded her, as if he was mentally playing out how this ‘bodyguard’ situation would go. With the slight frown tugging the corners of his lips downwards, Azriel assumed Eris did not believe it would end well.

“Please, do take time to come to a decision,” Beron offered. “I do understand this is a lot to ask.”

“We shall have an answer by the end of the week,” Rhys said with a nod.

Beron nodded back, and Azriel wondered what they were getting themselves into.

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thisblogisaboutabook · 21 days ago

Text

Bad Idea, Right? - Epilogue

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s daughter - Light angst - Fluff

A decade after the events of “Bad Idea, Right?” Eris and Y/N return to Velaris for Winter Solstice….. and Azalea goes on her first date.

Part 10 - Series Masterlist

10 years later

My eyes narrow as I look to him, “How are you so amiable to this?”

Eris shrugs- yes, shrugs- as if he’s as casual and irreverent as Uncle Rhys. “A few overgrown bats with snowballs are hardly the greatest obstacles of my lifetime. I think I’ll survive.”

I know he sees how skeptical I am but in true Eris fashion, he doesn’t borrow trouble as we stroll through the wintry streets of Velaris.

“You’re being suspect.”

“Oh, my little Spymaster,” he challenges, “shall you tie me up and interrogate me? I know how fond you are of eliciting both pain and pleasure.”

I can’t hide the slight upturn of my lips as I scoff, “Ever the masochist”

Eris only smirks. I know he thinks he’s won in diverting my attention but he hasn’t. Yet, I’ll let him off for now. I am the one who voluntold him to join in in this years snowball fight after all. Eight solstices we’ve spent together now, it was easy enough to reason that if he ever wanted me to “settle down” he’d have to join in on my families antics, however childish they may be.

What I didn’t expect was how easily he’d gone along with my orders to join them. It’s no secret in our relationship that Eris enjoys submission but that tends to be reserved for the bedroom, not in spending time with my family of busybodies.

I should be pleased by his agreeance but call it “spymaster’s intuition”, I’m not buying it. Perhaps I’ll send one of my shadows to referee.

Before we can make it up the drive Azalea is out the door with a beaning smile running toward us. She’s wearing a purple sweater and black skirt with stockings beneath. Her already long legs are further lengthened by chunky heeled black boots. My sister is gorgeous. She’s always been pretty, but she certainly has grown into her features and managed to snag the best of both mother and father’s genes. Her wings tuck in tight as if to combat the chill of the air.

Eris gets one look at her kohl lined eyes and glossy lips and looks to me with a raised brow, mouthing, “makeup?” As if the idea is absolutely abhorrent to him.

I roll my eyes. “She’s a teenager, deal with it.”

Now it’s Eris’ turn at skepticism, deep auburn-brown brows drawing together slightly. Good, let him be- actually, no, no skepticism. After all, Azalea is the entire reason I’m sending him to the snowball battle today.

“Guess what, Azzie?” I divert my attention to my younger sister. “Eris is going to participate in today’s snowball fight.”

“Yeah, I know.” She replies, fidgeting somewhat anxiously.

“Dad told you?” I ask, surprised my father would mention anything of it. He may have become accustomed to Eris’ presence over the years but to openly discuss his participation, whether welcomed or not, was…. Unexpected.

Azalea pauses for a moment before replying, “Mom did- helped her in the kitchen this morning- she’s packed an extra thermos of cocoa for him.”

A soft smile graces my lips at the thoughtful gesture from my mother and Azalea’s shoulders seem to slacken a bit at that.

Odd.

Before I can press further, father steps out the door, two insulated mugs of cocoa in hand as he stalks down the cobblestone path, stopping to pull me in for a hug and a kiss on the forehead and issue a greeting of, “Missed you, ornery.” before turning his gaze to my mate, looking him up and down with a scrutinizing glare. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

Eris dons a pair of weather appropriate boots, leather trousers, and an autumnal tan peacoat.

“Fucks sakes.” My father mutters before stalking back into the house and swiftly returning with a pair of lined Illyrian leathers - shoving the set into Eris’ hands with no further fuss and continuing down the drive.

Eris flashes me a smirk and pulls me into a warmth inducing kiss, triggering a dramatic gag from my sister before sauntering off after him.

I manage to catch an irreverant line from Eris about having fire in his blood and a gruff reply from my father about leaving his ass frozen in the Illyrian wilderness.

“He had them made for him you know.” Azalea’s voice cuts through my eavesdropping, reminding me that my younger sister is still here.

“He what?”

“Dad,” she gestures to the retreating forms of the unlikely pair, “the leathers, he had Emerie commission them for Eris.”

My heart squeezes. “When did he do that?”

“Years ago,” she shrugs, “Once he realized you two are truly happening and it wasn’t just a ‘screw you, dad!’ phase. He had them made in case Eris ever deign to join them for the snowball fight.”

Digesting the information, I can’t help the slight upturn of my lips, “I knew he liked him more than he let on.”

Azalea huffs “Like is a strong word, more like “begrudgingly doesn’t loathe him”

A chuckle escapes me and I realize how grateful I am for this brief one-on-one moment with my sister. “Why don’t we spend time like this together more often?”

Azalea loops her slender arm through mine as we walk along the snow covered path towards the house. “Because if we spend much more time together, items would begin missing from eachothers wardrobes.”

Raising my brow I take in her outfit. “Damn it, I knew that sweater you’re wearing looked familiar!”

———-

The house smells of warm bread and lavender, holiday preparation in full swing. Mother hurries over, fussing over me and taking my coat.

Ever the hostess, I know better than remind her that I’m perfectly capable of hanging up my own coat - thank you very much.

Mother pulls me into a hug and I melt into it, forgetting just how much a mother’s love can soothe the soul. I hope to provide the same sanctuary to my own children someday- but someday is NOT today. We’re immortal, there will be plenty of time for whatever karmic justice I have to face one day, after all the hell I put my own parents through.

And besides- I’m already stressed enough over my little sister, which leads me to the exact reason I sent Eris’ overprotective (and biteable) ass with my father and uncles today.

Azalea has her first date.

She looks to me, worrying her lower lip and I can tell something is bugging her.

“Alright, enough with the nervousness- what’s on your mind, kid?”

Azalea’s eyes roll so far back I’m shocked she can’t see the matter of her brain.

“I’m nearly an adult and it’s nothing. Just my first date, that’s all.” She lies poorly.

I give her my best “scary badass Shadowsinger” glare and she huffs, wholly unimpressed. Dad does it better and honestly, she’s never been affected by his stoic glares either.

Her wings droop slightly and she confesses, “I think Clara likes him.”

Oh- oh. That’s not good. Clara and Azalea have been best friends since they met at a solstice party in the Winter Court when they were ten. It’s now not uncommon for one or the other to be in each other’s respective courts during any given downtime.

“What makes you think that?” I ask, keeping my tone just north of pity, knowing pity will just close her off.

“She gets defensive when I talk about him, and defensive when he comes around. She told me she was going to ask someone to attend Starfall with her this year but soon after he asked me, she said she wasn’t asking anyone, that she wasn’t going… and she never misses Starfall!”

I see. “Perhaps it’s just a coincidence regarding Starfall and she’s still just a bit awkward around males.. not everyone is as forward as you are when it comes to communication.”

I earn yet another eye roll from her at my reference to the many times when she was a child with no filter that she disclosed any and all cringe worthy details of my personal life to any ear that would listen.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” I challenge.

She has the good sense not to disagree.

Sighing she plops down next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“Are you at least a little bit excited for the date?” I ask, resting my cheek on top of her head.

“Yeah, I think so.” She sighs, sitting back upright. “I am. I just don’t want to date someone at the risk of my best friend, you know?”

“If something as inconsequential as a male can come between you two, I have no hope for friendships anywhere. You two are like burrs on a horses ass, inseparable.”

Azalea giggles at the ridiculous analogy that I’d picked up sometime over my years in the Autumn court, and it feels good to see the light return to her eyes.

“Go on your date, have fun. It’s just a date, it doesn’t have to be forever.” I advise as I guide her to her vanity, touching up a few flyaways and immediately regretting it because those little strands of chaos are so quintessentially her.

If someone were unable to look past those, they don’t deserve her.

———————

Gathered in the parlor, Azalea bounces her foot, waiting for her date to arrive. Mother and I watch with amused expressions as she waits.

“Thank the gods the guys are still at the cabin for the snowball fight. Dad’s bad enough as it is but could you imagine Eris? I guarantee you he’d be chomping at the bit to grill this kid with questions.”

Azalea doesn’t miss a beat as she fires back, “You’re one to talk. He’s only speaking from experience, gods knows what you two got up to on your dates. You two don’t exactly scream “modest intentions.”

“Azalea” mother scolds but there’s no real reprimanding behind it, in fact, her eyes dance with mirth.

My shadows however, dance with a bit of agitation.

A knock comes on the door and Azalea freezes.

“Is he here?” Mother questions, standing and heading to peer out the window.

Azalea only groans. “No…. It’s bad news though. Aunt Mor is here.”

I chuckle at Azalea’s disdain. Aunt Mor is somehow even more protective of Azalea than any of the males in her life.

I open the door as she steps in, exuding “cool aunt” energy. She brings me in for a big hug before rushing to Azalea and squeezing her impossibly tightly. Emerie enters behind her with an apologetic look speaking for itself, “I tried to stall her.”

Mor peppers Azalea with all the questions as Emerie takes a seat, knowing better than to intervene. She gives me a knowing look before musing at her wife’s questioning.

“Always searching for the truth, that one.” I mutter. Emerie knows better than to laugh but I don’t miss the mirth in her deep brown eyes.

Azalea is exasperated by the time her date shows up. I realize that until now, I haven’t even asked his name. Though I know it because Mor absolutely asked during her interrogation, three times to be exact.

I notice a figure stepping up the drive and can’t help but take pity on my little sister. Could I let karma take its course after all of the shenanigans the child- excuse me, teenager- put me through in her younger years? Yes. But today I relent… it is solstice after all. Happy holidays, enjoy the gift of peace, Azalea.

With a casual stretch I summon Azalea to the kitchen. “Hey sis, could you help me in here for a moment?”

Mor starts but Emerie, also taking pity on my sister and her suitor is quick to distract her in the best way she knows how. “Say, Elain,” Emerie clears her throat to ensure Mor is paying attention. “Where did you get those shoes- from that new boutique along the Sidra?”

Before my mother can get a word out, Mor is fawning over them- speculating where she’d acquired them.

Good gods, this woman and her shopping addiction. Thank the cauldron Uncle Rhys pays her so well. I’m fairly certain she and Amren’s contributions to the Velaris economy could fund half the city for a month, two if it’s close to the holidays and Mor is on a spree to find the worst possible gifts for those she loves most dearly. Last year she got me a pink pair of bunny slippers- though I begrudgingly admit, they were quite comfortable.

Azalea, cheeks still pink with embarrassment, joins me in the kitchen. “Quick, out the side door with you. He’s coming up the walk.”

Azalea looks to me with relief and gratitude that I’m not quite sure I deserve given that my shadows are practically vibrating with frustration that I won’t let them trail after her.

“Have fun, stay safe, and be home before the males get home from the snowball fight. Eris is going to kill me if he finds out I sent him away just so you could go on a date in peace.”

Azalea nods, throwing on a jacket and hurrying out the kitchen before her date - Alex - arrives to the front door and can be ambushed by the females waiting behind it.

I hear a flutter of wings behind me, I don’t turn to look as a slight figure perches on my shoulder and a small voice proclaims with a sigh, “they grow up so quickly.”

“Flori” I greet the little sprite. Years ago, Eris had pulled some strings to arrange the visitation of a sprite to Azalea’s “sprite garden” - little did he know, Azzie would find her fiercest defender and one of the best of friends in the sprite - who may or may not have become one of my spies. Sprites are notoriously incurably nosey with a love for gossip, making the vivacious little fae quite the asset.

“Do I send a shadow after her?” I ask, toeing the line of giving my little sister freedom and wanting her to be safe.

Flori simply preens “Already vetted him. She’s in good hands.”

I make a mental note to give the sprite a raise.

————————————

“She’s WHAT?” Eris blurts as soon as the words “Azalea” and “date” leave my mouth. He’d managed to make it out of the Snowball fight alive and despite his impassive behavior…. I think he might have had fun.

“Cauldron, say it a little louder, Eris. I don’t think the folks on the continent heard you.”

Eris smacks my ass, whispering with a low timbre, sending a wave of heat straight to my core, “You’re going to regret this later, little shadow.”

I shiver at the show of dominance. It’s not every day that my mate shows his more dominant side… to me, at least. A thrill shoots through me at the promise for the most delicious of punishments later.

My dad enters the kitchen seeming unbothered regarding Azalea’s first date which is a bit surprising to both Eris and I.

“What are you two gaping at me for?” He asks, not bothering to look in our direction as he pours a drink.

You seem quite unbothered, I muse.

He gives a shrug. “What do I have to be bothered about? I won the snowball fight and the day has gone off without any hitches.”

I plan to leave well-enough alone but gods forbid Eris do the same. “So your youngest daughter went on her first date and you’re completely unbothered by it?

“Yup” he says before taking a swig of his whisky.

Eris, ever unable to resist baiting him looks to me and speaks in a low, honeyed tone, “I remember our first date, little shadow.”

Dad falters for only a millisecond before throwing back the rest of his drink, pointedly setting his glass down quite heavily, clanging on the counter and stalking out of the kitchen.

I raise a brow at my mate, “You couldn’t resist, could you?”

His Adam’s apple bobs and he chuckles, putting an arm around me and pulling me in close. “Your father’s annoyance is the second greatest gift I could get this holiday.”

“Second? What ever could be first?” I ask wryly.

He gives me a sultry look, reminding me of the punishment I have coming away.

I smack his shoulder and we head back in to join my family for the evening’s festivities.

———————

Solstice is in full swing and there are a couple of things that never change. One, Amren looks like she just robbed the local jewelry parlor as she showcases the gems she’d been gifted by the inner circle- aside from Mor who gifted her a purple scarf.

Emerie and my mate dance a strange dance of dominance and submission. Eris, who is indeed a fire-wielding High Lord with more self importance than he knows what to do with, out of some faction of guilt and understanding gives Emerie her distance.

Emerie, who up until recently has made her dislike of Eris well known- in that, “I’m-not-going-to-talk about-it-but-make-one-snide-comment-to-Mor-and-I’ll-cut-you” kind of way, keeps her distance from Eris but always ensures she’s between the two.

Yes, Eris and Mor reconcilied decades ago, before I had ever met Eris, but I get it. Emerie and Mor are mates and, wrongs against the other- whether truthful or perceived are hard to forgive when it comes to someone you’re mentally and biologically programmed to love and protect.

The front door opens and in walk Nyx, Aunt Feyre, and Uncle Rhys, closely followed by Aunt Nesta and a sulking Uncle Cassian who is clearly still disappointed that he didn’t win the snowball fight.

Nyx approaches Azalea with a “hey little cousin! Where’s your date?”

Azalea audibly groans but it’s too late. Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cassian both gape.

“Date??”

Azalea groans. “Damnit.”

“Language” mother warns.

“Y/N said ten times worse when she was my age!” Azalea argues but mom only pins her with that practiced motherly gaze that garners no room for argument.

Rhys and Cassian turn to my father waiting for a reaction but he only shrugs. “My daughter is old enough to go on a date, I trust her.” He doesn’t add that he’s the spy master and likely has a fifty page compendium on everything her date’s done since he could walk.

Cassian lets out a low whistle. “I never thought I’d see the day our brother wouldn’t be a brooding, overbearing mess over his youngest going on her first date.

Mor snorts. “You can thank Eris for his lackadaisical response. If he could handle those two,” she gestures broadly toward Eris and I. “he can handle about anything.”

She’s not wrong, I think to myself, my lips upturning slightly.

My father ignores the comment, simply placing an arm around mother and kissing the crown of her head.

Before Cassian or literally any of my aunts or uncles can mortify Azalea or irritate father further, the doorbell rings and Azalea perks up, hurrying toward the door before catching herself, and waiting for someone else to get it.

My shadows have reported who is here and my heart aches for my sister. Clara. Azalea’s best friend whom she believes has a thing for the male Azalea went on a date with tonight.

They’ve been thick as thieves for so long and it saddens me to see her hesitate instead of throwing her arms around her like she normally would.

The rest of the guests seem to feel the same as the heir to the winter court steps in, graceful as ever with her white hair wound into an elegant braid. Her piercing blue gaze takes in Azalea and the tension in the room is palpable, it doesn’t take the tense way my sister holds her wings to sense it.

I give a silent gesture to everyone to carry on as not to make this more awkward.

I can’t tell what the two say to eachother but they both hold themselves stiffly before Azalea nods towards her room, likely so they can resolve things without the biggest busybodies in Prythian hovering.

Eris squeezes my hand. “Care to take a walk my love?”

“Sure” I whisper, feeling a bit flushed from the wine I’d downed before the party.

My father’s hazel gaze tracks us with an unreadable expression as we walk out the door.

————-

As we stroll along the Sidra, I can’t help but smile. We’ve walked along this river countless times over the years but I can’t help remembering the chaotic night we’d gone on our first real date to Sevenda’s and to Aunt Feyre’s art gallery opening. A chaotic yet altogether unforgettable night. Despite the strife of it all, I wouldn’t change anything, because here we are now.

My shadows float around us, as if they too enjoy the night’s breeze. Eris’ heat keeping us just warm enough.

“You’ve served our court quite well little shadow.” Eris speaks, his voice low and Ernest, his lips tilt upward as a shadow winds around his forearm down his wrist, and weaves through his long fingers.

“You have too.” He muses to the shadow. And it’s true, my shadows have made my spymaster skills a valuable asset to the Autumn Court, though Eris has never viewed them as a tool but as an extension of me, of the female he loves.

“It’s an honor to serve your court.” I speak truthfully.

He smirks. “You can lie to yourself by saying it’s mine… but it’s ours.” Before I can object or deflect, he continues, “And I’m the High Lord, as an individual in my employ, you must abide by my law. And I declare that it’s our court.”

I roll my eyes but my stomach flutters. I’ve fallen in love with the Autumn Court and learned how wonderful many of its people are over the years. An “autumnal wasteland”, I’d once called it. And yet, it feels like home now.

“You know-“ Eris continues, fidgeting slightly. Something so unlike him. “Do you remember that night all those years ago, when your sister caught us in that deliciously compromising position on the balcony- and your mother had that vision?” He asks with a hint of vulnerability in his amber eyes.

My brows knit, unsure where this is going. “The burning flame drives away the wild shadow.” I recite, remembering the night clearly. “Eris- what does this have to do with anything? She said herself that her visions don’t always mean anything significant. We’re happy and I don’t plan to leave you anytime soon.”

Eris shakes his head, resting a warm hand on my shoulder, I meet his gaze defiantly. “Look at you. I hope you never lose that spark… that fire burning within you.”

I scoff looking down, trying to hide the feeling of uncertainty in myself.

“Is the Autumn court your home, little one?” He asks, his thumb and forefinger gently clasping my chin and tilting my face so my eyes meet his amber hued gaze.

I can see it, the desperation in his eyes and I cannot give him anything but the truth. My heart races. “Yes.”

Something akin to relief slackens his features. “So, there it is. The burning flame, drove away you. My little wild, wonderful shadow out of the Night Court, to my home in the Autumn Court. To our home.”

Suddenly he spirits a square rectangular box of mahogany with autumn leaves and flames burned into it out of the pocket realm.

“Eris…”

His voice cracks with emotion and he holds up a finger, a silent plea with me to let him get his words out. “You have served our court well over the past ten years, little one, you have shown our people kindness and grace, and you treat the commoners with just as much dignity and respect as nobility- if not more. You have loved me well, far more than I likely deserve but I’m a selfish male when it comes to you and I’ve soaked up every ounce of love you’ve shown me. You are who I want to rule beside, who I want to keep waking up next to every morning. You are the one I would be honored to lead our court with. Please, my mate, do me the honor of fully accepting our bond and becoming my High Lady.”

He opens the box to which a golden ringlet crown of leaves and flame rests beside a ring with a matching band, and a gem that matches the amber stoned necklace he’d gotten me before I even knew we were mates.

All words escape me. It’s not that he hasn’t hinted at having me rule with him someday over the years but he also has recognized that I’m young, that I had personal growth to achieve that was important to myself and yes- recently, I have felt that I’m there. That I could do this, but I’d never said it. My mate has waited patiently, observed in silence, until he could sense I was ready. How could I deny him?

“Yes, Eris. It would be a privilege to be your High Lady, and an even greater privilege to be yours forever.”

He closes the box and spirits it away for now. I’ll wear the ring after I’ve offered him food and consummated the bond, and after we’ve seen a priestess to swear my vows to both him and the crown.

Gods, as if our sex life needs a mating frenzy when we can’t keep our hands off each other as is.

Eris’ eyes water and he pulls me into his warm embrace, a hug that I feel deep in my soul. He kisses the top of my head as I rest my cheek against his chest, listening to his heart thud.

We stand like that for some time before his eyes, so full of devotion, peer into mine, reading me like a book and loving everything he sees. “I love you.” He speaks gruffly.

“I love you too.” I whisper, my voice soft and sincere.

I crash my lips into his and we get lost in eachother.

———————————

When we return to the townhouse and slip out of our coats, I look up to see the family drinking and talking merrily. My father and mother both look to Eris and I. My mother smiles knowingly and father raises a brow. Eris gives him a nod and father raises his glass in silent congratulations. My lips part and I look to Eris.

Eris only flashes his patent smirk. “You may have sent me to the snowball fight with an agenda of your own, but I had one too.”

“You asked his permission?”

“Don’t give me that look, High Lady, I would have asked you regardless. I am a High Lord and can do what I want anyway.”

I just shake my head but my lips curl upward. “You’ll pay for your insolence, High Lord.” I whisper huskily.

Chill bumps rise up his arm but he stays strong. “Oh no, I’ll be punishing you for hiding the news of Azalea’s date from me first. I haven’t forgotten that.”

I look around and see she’s still not rejoined the family. “C’mon, I want to tell her before everyone else.”

Selfishly, I also want to ensure that things are smoothed out between her and Clara.

We head upstairs and I knock on her bedroom door with no answer. “Azalea?” I ask and knock again with no answer. It’s not like her to not answer the door and I don’t hear anything inside. It’s early for her to be asleep and I worry that she and Clara got into a bigger disagreement and Clara left. The thought of Azalea crying herself to sleep tears me apart.

Concern overrides my situational assessment and I turn the handle a moment too late to heed Eris’ sudden warning of “sound ward”.

I gape as the daughter of the Winter Court straddles my little sister’s lap, the two locked in a tangle of tongues and teeth.

“Well, well, well,” I muse at the sight as flashes of the night she’d outed Eris and I’s relationship a decade ago cross my mind. “How things have come full circle.”

“Don’t worry sis, your secret is safe with me.”

———————————————

A/N: Thank you all for reading this fic! I can’t believe it’s done. I hope you enjoyed getting a little peek into everyone’s life years down the road from the main fic. I appreciate each and every one of you who have taken the time to read!

Tags:

ACOTAR General Tags: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @ahaha0246

Eris Tags: @angiedsv

Series Tags: @b0xerdancer @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thelov3lybookworm @starryhiraeth @5moremin @azrielsmate3 @coolepowersthings @isa1b2h3 @inloveallthetime @julesofvolterra @deeshag @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @courtofbatboydreams @yourmumsdumptruck @nebarious @glitterypirateduck @mybestfriendmademe @acourtof-wingspan @paleidiot @anae-naea-zacheria @fandomarchiveilyd @bloodicka @12358

#Azriel #eris vanserra #acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #Eris x Azriel’s daughter #acotar fluff #acotar angst #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #eris x reader #eris x oc #autumn court #night court

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achaotichuman · 4 months ago

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Here is the seventh chapter of my next generation ACOTAR fanfiction A Witch A Warrior And A Reckoning: ACT 1- The Witch (Link at bottom of the post)

Protagonists:

Dahlia Fairburn, General and Heir of Spring

Aisling Sapphirus, Healer of the Hewn City

Nyx Archeron, Son of the Witch

Relationships:

Dahlia Fairburn x Aisling Sapphirus

Nyx Archeron x Tamlin Fairburn

Azriel Shadowsinger x Eris Vanserra

Nuan x Lucien Vanserra

Original Azris Child(ren) x Tarquin

Summary

Life is peaceful for Dahlia Fairburn, running with her War Band, and commanding the Spring Court armies. Since the day she could wield a sword, she’s been helping her father, along with her younger brother, to restore Spring to its former glory. Trying to ignore the festering magic in her body, that threatens to consume her.

One day, all that peace is threatened to be shaken, as a certain prince of Night asks for her to join the rebellion of the Hewn City and Illyria. From beneath the great mountains, an ancient song calls for her. She meets a woman with death in her eyes, and power in her veins, who makes Dahlia’s blood boil while something clicks into place between them.

This new generation of Prythian was thought to be one of peace and prosperity. But the mask of the reigning High Lords begin to crumble, as secrets older than Prythian itself are uncovered, and darkness is unleashed.

An ACOTAR next generation fanfiction

Tags: Leave a comment or DM me if you wanna be added or removed from the tag list!

@sonics-atelier

@sadisticdevile

@shi-daisy

@skyesayshi

@praetorqueenreyna

@futurehunt

@unanswered-stars

@mathiwrites

@honeysuckle-daydreams13

@matrixsss

@amalhe-kofee

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thehighladywrites · 1 year ago

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ACOTAR MEN X READER, BEING THEIR SNEAKY LINK

☀︎ — summary: sneaking around with the acotar men👀 How long does this go on?

☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw themes, tw beron🤢 mentioned

☀︎ — amara’s note: had this idea for a while, let’s bring this to life😈oh to be sneaking around with them🙏🏽💔

Rhysand

With him, no one finds out until you tell everyone

He is able to keep the links sneaky for sure, also he masks your scents so that no one can tell

No one really suspects that ur sleeping together because he isn’t paying any suspicios amount of attention to you.

He makes it up later though👀

At first, it was just a way for him to recover from Under the Mountain, so he sought you out for help in order to gain back some controll.

And he got better and began to carefully heal, yet here you both were, still sneaking around years later.

Yeah, years bc that is how good he’s able to keep secrets.

Oh, he gets jealous too and masks it as being a good friend and high lord when asked about it by the rest of the inner circle.

His favorite trick is telling the ic he’s sending you on a mission so they think ur gone, then he suggests them eating out while you’re gone then tells them he can’t make it so he stays at home and then you guys can stay at the house unbothered and alone

Since he gets jealous, he gives you hickies or make your legs so sore you can’t walk

Rhys looooves the attention you get during morning training for the others

“Are you okay, did you trip or something?”

“No, no Az,I’m fine. I was just doing some stretches and I think I overdid it.”

Rhysand just stands there happier than ever as you glare at him

Azriel

Guys, let’s be so real. Azriel ain’t getting caught, ever💀

He teaches you tricks on how to hide better when you’re coming over to his room

And it’s usually his room you hook up in bc he has trained himself to notice anything being off. Like if a book has been moved like a millimeter, he knows so it’s the safest and least risky place for you to be.

Because he is so attentive and sneaky, he is incredibly risky

He loves risky sex. Bro will fuck your brains out knowing people are close bc he knows he’s able to cover it up

Azriel also uses his shadows on you in broad daylight.

You’re out for dinner w the inner circle and his shadows teases and rub your clit under the table. You use your magic to suppress your arousal but it’s kind of hard to not squirm and all that

Az just sits there cocky as fuck knowing that he makes you react like that without even touching you

So so so soooo much jealousy on your side bc Azriel gets hit on all the time, males, females, youngsters, oldies, bro everyone wants him

People don’t hit on you tho because Azriel is always standing behind you, exuding that scary aura and energy that has people running the other way

Even after you two become official, you keep it under wraps. You don’t want anyone or anything ruining it for you so it’s all very hush hush

Only years after, when your friends ask why none of you date people, do you spill. You tell them you and Azriel are together already but it’s a private relationship

They were a little pissed but they let it go when they saw how happy you were and how good your dynamic is

Eris

He is sneaking around with you because of both your parents

You’re the daughter of one of B*ron’s🤢 close advisors so you and Eris spend a lot of time together

Eventually it develops into a secret relationship with a lot of sex

You both know your parents would hung you both if you ever got exposed but you still do it.

You both act like you’re somewhat of enemies or don’t like each other in public so that no one can even rise suspicions againt you.

Behind closes doors he sluts you out like crazyyyyy, i’m talking any type of sex, rough, soft, different positions, different places, new things added, toys, rope, cuffs this man is kinky I KNOW ITTT

like he has no controll over his life bc of b*ron 🤢 so he likes taking controll in the bedroom and dominate, yum👀

It all becomes more interesting and exciting when your parents decide it’s high time to get engaged and married.

Your suitors always wonder why you’re late and messy, what they don’t know is that you were busy getting bent over by eris

anyways when b*ron 🤢 dies and eris takes over, the sneaky link ain’t sneaky anymore. The man fully claims you, even making you his high lady.

Ugh i love him💔💔💔💔

Lucien

You’re Cassian’s sister and you’re hooking up with him on the down low

Lucien caught your eye when he and Feyre came back from Spring.

He seemed uncomfortable around everyone and kept to himself, until you started spending more time with him

Time turned your companionship to a secret relationship

Please, we all know how charming Lucien is, I mean, shit I’d fall for him too🫨🫨

Sorry @thelov3lybookworm but your man is so fuckable💗

Anyways, he is super charming and silver tounged and that makes you jump his bone immediately

This guy is amazing with his tounge, head game goes CRAZYYYYY

At first it’s just sex, but then instead of fucking then leaving, you begin to stay during the nights and talk for hours.

Eventually you realize the depth of your bond and how much you love one another.

You were quite nervous when telling Cassian bc Illyrian’s are super protective and possessive over their family but he is fine with it bc he knows that there aren’t better males than Lucien

Anyways, you keep sneaking around bc you don’t want to outright make out infront of the inner circle so you sneak away at parties, meetings and dinners.

This man is a risktaker just like Azriel. I know he sneaks up from behind, saying crazy and stomach flipping things, waiting for your reaction then fucks you in whatever place you are

Cassian

You’re Lord Devlon’s daughter and you sneak around with him.

No one knows about your magic from your mother’s side that you use to remove any trace of cassian

At first you hated him bc of your father and bc he manipulated you into thinking cassian and his friends were dangerous

There is banter and mean words exchanged between you that only makes the sexual tension between you even stronger

One night you both snap and have hate sex and that one night becomes the start of years of secret meetings and rendezvous.

Whenever he's in Windhaven, you two have a blast. To dodge curious eyes, you've got this genius plan: throw a party whenever Cassian conveniently has a meeting or mission there. With everyone a bit tipsy, it's the perfect cover for linking up

After a while you’re caught by Devlon himself and all hell breaks loose. Rhysand has to come down and solve everything before blood spills

Devlon disowns you and would have killed you had it not been for Cassian protecting you from your father

So he takes you to Velaris where you live with him and eventually become an advisor for Rhysand since he hasn’t lived there for years and would benefit from someone who was so close to Devlon

You have so much fun and yeah, that’s how you went from hate sex, fuck buddies, in love and eventually mates

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prythianpages · 3 months ago

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Just A Fool | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader x Azriel | Eris has a meeting with the Night Court's astrologer but when he enters the observatory he finds you instead. He's captivated by you and can't bring himself to understand why...until the bond snaps.

warnings: reader being delulu, mild angst (I think)

word count: 2,667

a/n: Surprise, surprise, I simply can't write one-shots! Though this can be read as a stand alone fic, it is based off of this one and takes place before. Azriel is not in this part himself but he is mentioned. Since this is in Eris's pov, I wrote it it in third person to make it easier.

Eris stepped into the observatory, the door gliding open with a quiet hiss. The room was large and spacious, his boots echoing against the smooth, polished floors. Despite himself, he begrudgingly admitted that the Night Court’s observatory was a masterpiece.

A dome of crystalline glass stretched above, revealing all the beauty the Night Court’s sky had to behold. Constellations glimmered and moonlight filtered through the room, casting a silver glow over the telescopes, charts and shelves lined with celestial tomes.

But it wasn’t the architecture that made his breath hitch and muscles tense.

A female sat curled on a velvet loveseat, her knees drawn up, and a journal braced against them as she wrote. Her head was bent in concentration, her hair falling like a curtain of shadow around her face. She hadn’t noticed him yet, and Eris let her ignorance linger. He watched her silently, taking in every detail he could for a moment longer, unaware of the weight of fate looming over his shoulder.

The dark purple dress she wore was simple yet elegant and the opal pendant that hung around her neck twinkled like starlight against her skin. Eris was certain she was not part of Rhysand’s inner circle—he would have known if she were. And to his knowledge, Keir had no other daughter aside from Mor.

Yet, the ease with which she carried herself in the room, it was as though she belonged there. She must come from a noble family but even then, the question as to why she was here still remained. Especially when he had a meeting with the Night Court’s astrologer. Had this female dared to sneak into the observatory? And how had she not heard his footsteps?

Foolish. Reckless.

And yet, Eris couldn’t deny the curiosity that tugged at him as he took a step closer, something foreign beginning to simmer in his chest.

When the door finally clicked shut, however, she flinched, her head snapping up. Wide eyes locked onto his, and the centuries of practiced composure could not hold him back, his body jerking upright. They stared at one another, the silence between them taut as a bowstring.

Her journal slipped from her lap, landing with a thud as she stood hastily. A flicker of panic crossed her face that was quickly replaced by a guarded expression. It was then that he concluded she had, in fact, dared to sneak in here.

Eris noted the slight flush on her cheeks and the way her fingers twitched. It was as if she were resisting the urge to snatch up the fallen book in fear of turning her eyes away from him.

He moved forward, each step deliberate, the measured thud of his boots filling the space between them. His amber eyes roamed her, unhurried. His lips curved faintly, a teasing spark lighting his gaze.

“Well, I was expecting someone much taller, older, and wiser...”

The female stiffened, her gaze darting to the journal on the floor, then back to him. Eris caught the motion. “What? Cat’s got your tongue?”

Her jaw tightened, but her voice was steady when she finally spoke. “If it is Lord Damus you seek, that is my father. He should be here shortly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right out of your way…”

She stepped toward the journal, her intention clear. But Eris was faster and intent on keeping her with him for longer. A flick of his wrist and the journal flew to his hand, carried by a golden thread of flame. He thumbed the worn cover, glancing down at it with mock intrigue.

“A diary?” he teased, a laugh dancing on his lips as his eyes flicked to hers. “What are you, a child?”

“Give that back,” she snapped, fire sparking in her eyes as she took a step closer.

Eris arched a brow, surprised by the boldness in her tone. The spark in her gaze sent a thrill through him, a pull he couldn’t quite place. He wasn’t one to concern himself with trivialities like this, and yet…

“No,” he replied simply, effortlessly stepping away from her poor attempt to reach him.

When she tried again, he lifted his hand, a flicker of flames dancing at his fingertips in warning. “What secrets could a Night Court female like you possibly be hiding in here? Some scandalous account of a rival’s terrible choice in gowns? Or some torrid tale of unrequited love among the court?”

His gaze dropped to the page she had left open. He should’ve let her leave. The meeting with her father was much more important than reading her diary but he was now curious about her. And even more curious to know what she had been so entranced by, enough to have not noticed his entrance.

Eris’s eyes scanned the elegant script, and his smirk deepened. “‘I love everything about him. Not in the way of soft, fleeting things, but in the way stars burn eternal. Steady and unwavering.”

He paused to glance at her. Her cheeks were flushed now but her eyes didn’t waver. There was a defiance in her gaze, even as her lips pressed into a tight line.

Eris’s attention returned to the page, a strange tightening in his chest. He hadn’t expected such emotion from her words and though he couldn’t understand why, it seemed to unsettle him.

“I love the way his eyes, the warmest shade of hazel, hold my heart every time he looks at me, the way his gaze softens. Or the way his shadows linger just a heartbeat longer around me. I wonder if they whisper my name when I’m not near…”

And then he saw it.

A name. Scribbled in a flourish of ink beside what he assumed was hers and framed by a heart. His chest tightened further, this time with something sharper, darker. He knew that name. All too well.

The flame at his fingertips extinguished as his hand fell to his side. He turned to her, his amber eyes blazing, his jaw set.

It should have been trivial. He had hoped for something inconsequential, a petty grievance or a noblewoman’s idle musings. Anything that he could dismiss with a smirk and leave behind without a second thought. Anything–anyone– but him.

Instead, her words tugged at something buried. A tether that always seemed to lead back to that wretched shadowsinger. That damned Illyrian who haunted his thoughts more often than he cared to admit.

Eris didn’t understand it and was unsure he wanted to. He was unsure if he even wanted to understand the female before him but he couldn’t bring himself to turn away from her.

So he allowed his disbelief to take over and settled on what he was familiar with.

“What a pity,” Eris said, his voice quieter but no less cutting. “That someone like you would stoop so low and waste such beautiful words on a bastard like him.”

“You don’t know anything about him,” she replied briskly and then as an afterthought, added, “or me.”

Eris laughed, the sound sharp and incredulous. “Don’t I?” He said, waving the leather journal tauntingly. The reaction she gave was almost amusing—almost. It wasn’t the insult he’d thrown at her that provoked such defensiveness, but the one aimed at him. Her precious shadowsinger.

“I think I’ve learned plenty. Enough to know you are a delusional fool. Or perhaps…”

He stepped forward leisurely, his hands crossing behind his back, like a predator savoring the chase. For every step he took towards her, she took a step back, her breath catching in her throat. He tilted his head, the amused smirk never leaving his face. He took note of the way she tried to steady her breathing. And though he thought her a fool, at least she wasn’t foolish enough to pretend she didn’t feel it. The power humming in the air around him, coiling like fire beneath his skin.

The floor illuminated beneath her weight as she stepped into the massive zodiac wheel etched onto the floor. Eris continued until he had her trapped, her back pressed against the small table in the center of the room that held up a glowing, golden globe. He was on her then, close enough that the heat of him seemed to reach out and curl around her.

She stiffened as he leaned in and then, as if it were his right, he reached out and tilted her chin up with two fingers, forcing her gaze to meet his. His amber eyes swept over her face, mockingly intent.

But when his eyes met hers, the simmering in his chest flared, growing hotter with each passing heartbeat. He brushed it aside, too caught up in the thrill of provoking her to give it any real thought.

“Perhaps, you’re unwell?” he asked, his voice dripping with condescension. “You must’ve taken a fall recently, or been struck on the head as a child? I can’t imagine any other explanation for…”

His voice had trailed off. Now that he was up close, her scent of night blooming flowers–phlox– and amber teased at his senses. It wanted to wrap around him, lure him in. He released his hold on her, reigning in the flare of heat that surged through him. He masked the effect she had on him with a lazy wave of his hand toward the journal he still held. “…this.”

Her brows furrowed, her glare sharp enough to cut. She snatched her journal back from him with such fury he had to bite back a laugh. “I am perfectly well.”

Eris gave a grimace of resigned disbelief. “Just a fool then.”

“Tell me,” he continued, voice rich with feigned curiosity, “does he truly look your way? Or are you merely another shadow to him? Rumor has it he’s quite taken with a certain lovely, cauldron-turned fae... Oh, forgive me, my lady, did I strike a nerve?”

Her knuckles whitened as she clutched the journal tightly to her chest, shielding it as if it could protect her from the sting of his words. But there was fire in her eyes that only intrigued him further.

“He’ll soon realize that she’s not the one for him.”

“Will he? And what makes you so certain? Do you think yourself his destiny? If that’s the case, then I have quite the–”

“Crushes come and go but love stays,” she interrupted him, voice firm. She then looked up towards the domed ceiling. Her voice softened, a wistfulness creeping into her words. “And the stars and the planets, they never lie.”

The floor glowed brighter, the engraved markings on the zodiac wheel shifting with a series of clicks. From the center, a galaxy unfurled, its planets and constellations rising and floating into the air. They remained suspended in a tentative dance, awaiting an order.

An inexplicable flutter tore through his chest as he watched her expression ease at the sight above, a tender gleam in her eyes.

“It’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To see where the planets align for you. To discover if the stars favor your path, if there’s any certainty to be found. To gather hope and dare to dream.”

Eris’s smirk faltered for a split second, his amber eyes narrowing. He quickly masked the slight discomfort, his expression returning to one of controlled indifference. “It sounds like you’re stuck in a dream yourself. One that will be harsh to wake up from.”

But his sharp words didn’t land as he expected. She didn’t flinch or glare back at him. Instead, she smiled at him. A smile that was so sure, so knowing. It truly made him question her sanity.

“Azriel may hold affection for her now, but he’ll love me. One day, he’ll see it. Just as clearly as I do.”

Eris could only stare at her. The certainty in her words, the unwavering belief in some twisted fate. It was maddening. She was maddening. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to continue to laugh at her naivety or… believe her.

Because she was right. He had come to Lord Damus for guidance. In a world as precarious as his, he yearned for a semblance of certainty. He wanted to hope, wanted to dream. Something to cling on to, to help him carry the weight of his burdens.

Her words lingered in the air between them, heavy and determined.

And then, as if the universe itself had conspired to provoke him further, it happened.

The world seemed to tilt beneath his feet. The edges of the room blurred, melting into golden and white light. All he could see was her. The female whose eyes reflected the endless stars above, whose words burned like a flame deep in his chest.

That simmering sensation in his chest flared again, too scorching to ignore any longer. The fire coursing through his veins roared to life, surging toward her as if recognizing its other half. His other half.

Mate.

The female standing before him, all defying words and starry wit, was his.

And she was in love with someone else.

“Cauldron above,” he cursed, his voice a low murmur. He took a step back, still reeling but forcing his composure to hold.

The sound of the door to the observatory opening snapped him out of his trance. He quickly distanced himself, needing space to regain full control.

“Lord Eris, forgive me if you’ve been waiting–what are you doing here?”

“Oh,” the female–his mate–breathed and he could feel the way her heart quickened. “I was just dusting off the shelves here, father.”

Lord Damus approached a shelf, dragging his finger along the surface. His gaze narrowed, as if sensing dust. The faintest glimmer of energy rippled in the air, imperceptible to most, but Eris saw it settle. It was, after all, his magic.

When Lord Damus raised his finger to inspect it, there was not a speck to be found. A thoughtful hum escaped him, and Eris felt her relax, even if only slightly.

“You may leave now.” Lord Damus said to her, dismissing her as if she were a servant and not his daughter.

“Yes, father.” She politely replied, bowing her head toward him before reluctantly turning to Eris. She hastily did the same, her eyes briefly meeting his once more before she hurried out of the room.

Eris watched her leave, fighting the threat of emotions swirling him. It wasn’t until the door finally clicked shut that he exhaled. As if some weight had been lifted. Though, it didn’t feel any lighter.

“Please, have a seat.” Lord Damus's voice interrupted, pulling Eris from his thoughts.

The Night Court astrologer gestured for Eris to take a seat where she had been previously sitting. But Eris couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t sit there, knowing her scent still lingered.

“Forgive me, Lord Damus, but I need to reschedule.”

“But you’ve come all this way already…,” Lord Damus’s brows furrowed. “Did my daughter say something to you? Allow me to apologize on her behalf. She can be quite unnerving–that one.”

“No, not at all.” Eris lied smoothly. He lifted his hand, and a small note appeared, perched between his fingers. Flames erupted from the edges, quickly eating away at the note until it was reduced to ashes in his palm. “Something has suddenly come up in my court that requires immediate attention.”

Lord Damus considered this, his eyes narrowing as if contemplating the words. Finally, he gave a short nod. “Very well, then. We can reschedule for another time.”

Eris didn’t wait for another word. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. He winnowed directly to his room. Only then did he let his mask slip. Images of her flooded his mind and he braced himself against his bed post with one hand. His other hand clutched at his chest where the emotions were scorching, the fire there forging the threads of fate.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes landing on his own reflection. Eris had called her–his mate–a fool. Yet, as he stood before himself, he realized a bitter truth...

He was the greatest fool of all.

[series masterlist]

A/n: the next part in this au will be some fluff between Az & you 🫶🏽 that takes place after Hopelessly Devoted.

series tag list: @kaitttttttt , @nebarious , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @justyouraveragekleemain , @tothestarsandwhateverend ,

@ratgirl2020 , @myromanempiree , @vanserrasimp , @itsswritten , @acourtofbatboydreams

@imjustagirl713, @paleidiot, @scarsandallaz

if you asked to be put on the tag-list and don't see your username, please remind me!

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

#eris x reader #azriel x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #eris fanfiction #azriel fanfiction #azriel x you #hopelessly devoted eris

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readychilledwine · 1 year ago

Text

Lollipop

Azriel x innocent Vanserra OC

Summary - after being silenced during the High Lord's meeting with her favorite candy. Seraphina finds herself the center of a certain shadowsingers attention

Warnings - implied smut, implied corruption kink, Beron being Beron (so mentions/signs of abuse), implied swapping, Nesta implying she'd go down on OC, age gap, messing with canon a little bit

A/N -I got bored and the whole corruption kink side of me came out. I also think I'm developing a Nesta kink, and it's probably going to get pretty smutty between her and an oc or reader here soon.... oooo or the valkyries x reader.... might have to do something for my girlies who love other girlies...

Part 2

Azriel was going to fucking faint.

Beron, in an effort to stop his daughter from continuing to egg on the Princess of the Summer court, had pulled out some form of an candy on a stick and put it in her mouth much to the laughter and delight of everyone around.

Now all the shadowsinger could do was watch out of the corners of his eyes as his mate sucked and licked on the candy innocently while reading the book Eris had brought for her.

Doing okay there, brother? Rhysand's purr in his mind before the High Lord looked over at the daughter of Autumn had Azriel suppressing a growl. Well, doesn't little Seraphina just look so pretty with her lips wrapped around something.

Azriel shot him a glare before peeking over again. She had the candy so just the tip of it was in her mouth, lips wrapped perfectly around it. Cauldron fucking boil me. Rhysand sent him a wave of agreement as Feyre also looked over and smirked.

Feyre thinks the 3 of us should take her, and oh fuck-

Azriel and Rhys quickly snapped their eyes back to the meeting when the daughter of Autumn looked their way before looking at her older brother and tapping his shoulder.

Her breasts were on display, small hands delicating holding the stick of the candy as she leaned forward in the exquisite dress she was in to whisper in her older brother's ear.

The male heir of Autumn looked over to the Night Court glaring at the shadowsinger and the high lord. He growled softly before taking the candy from a clearly uncomfortable female.

"Excuse my interruption," Tamlin stopped talking as soon as Eris spoke and demanded the attention of the room, "Do you have something you'd like to say to my sister, Spymaster? You've been staring at her for the past 10 minutes."

The room had gone silent. Tamlin leaned forward with a smirk, as did Tarquin and Thesan. The daughter of Autumn was an unspoken set boundary. No one looked at or touched Beron's girl, not even Amarantha. Too much power radiated in that small body. Power anyone would have given Beron their left arm to have access to. They just had to follow his rules to get the chance to play for her hand, and right now, Azriel's silence was risking his own family's shot at it.

Might want to say something there, brother. Az shot Rhysand a glare before clearing his throat and saying the one thing he knew he shouldn't.

"How can I not stare at such a beautiful creature? Especially when your father so willing put something in her mouth for the entertainment of every male here?" Rhys froze and immediately sent a look Azriel's way.

That wasn't what I had in mind. Being her mate does not promise you her hand, Az. Beron could sell her off before Eris gets the chance to bring her to us. Tread carefully.

Beron laughed darkly before turning to the Night Court, "I didn't realize silencing my 55 year old daughter with candy would be such a problem for you, Azriel. No one else here seems to think anything of it. Must just be that Illyrian Bastard blood in you." The reminder of her young age was a slap in the face to the shadowsinger. A reminder that she hardly understood the world yet and that she had spent the majority of her life trapped in that mountain.

Azriel caught the way Seraphina's eyes shut slowly at her father's insults, "It's not a big deal, daddy. I-." Her father held a hand up to silence her. No one missed the flinch from the young girl. Helion, Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys all looked towards each other.

Helion was now staring at the young female too, his eyes softening at her fear. Beron glared at Helion before continuing, "If you continue to look at my daughter, you'll find yourself wingless, boy."

Sera even knew that was too far. Azriel watched the way her chest stilled as she stared wide eyed at her father before switching her gaze to Helion who shook his head softly at her in warning.

Rhysand growled this time, "Do not threaten MY family over your choice not to educate your daughter on sexual matters."

Sera was confused. How was a caramel apple sucker sexual? She made eye contact with the Spring lord, who simply motioned for her to come over to him, and she did.

She walked in a way that reminded Azriel of water. Flowing, smooth, gently. He barely suppressed the growl in his throat as Tamlin pulled the girl into his lap, his mouth close to her delicately pointed and jewel adorned ear.

The room filled with laughter as her eyes grew wide and a red flush hit her chest and cheeks. "Really," she whispered softly to Tamlin, who nodded and then continued whispering in her ear. Soft nodding came from her as Tamlin stroked her upper thigh and whispered to her, eyes locked on Azriel in a clear message. He knew. He could somehow sense the bond. "What's a," Tamlin covered her mouth, laughing slightly as he explained something else to her. "So people don't use the proper terms during sex?" Tamlin was smirking at this point. Whatever he had just said made the young girl gasp, and her eyes go wide.

Beron growled this time and tried to break the field of neutrality in anger but couldn't. "Enough, Tamlin!" Seraphina shifted in Tamlin's lap after he finished speaking to her. She stood and walked back over to the Autumn Court in shock and embarrassment.

"I apologize for the distraction, Shadowsinger. Forgive me," she began playing with her long red curls as Azriel scented her anxiety. "Thank you for the…. Educational lesson, high lord." The daughter of Autumn sat back down slowly and made a fatal error. Her and Nesta Archeron made eye contact and the oldest Cauldron made said one simple thing.

"In case he didn't tell you because he's a selfish male, there's males out there who'd return that favor. And females, if youd be interested in that." The daughter of Autumn grew more red and opened her book to hide her face in the crisp pages, "If you'd like to learn, let me know."

An audible squeak came from the young fae female, "Eris." She was desperate for help. Her brother shot a look Nesta's way, and she returned it with a hate fueled glare.

Tamlin had painted a mental image for her in pretty words chosen specifically to make the young female feel warm. Truly though, She didn't mind the idea. The thought of her on her knees as Azriel tangled his large scarred hands through her long red curls, tongue running along his cock as he made a mess of her made her feel warmth growing in her stomach she'd never felt before.

She had heard rumors from other females about the size of an Illyrian's wings having something to do with the size of their cock, and Seraphina was just trying to imagine how exactly that would work if rumors were true. How exactly would she fit all of him into her mouth if given a chance? The handsome spymaster had huge wings. The largest wings she'd ever seen on a winged fae. If wing size related to endowment size, his cock was huge. And if Nesta was involved? Cauldron boil her. Would Cassian also be involved?

A hand gently clawed at her mind, causing her to freeze. It wasn't trying to get in her head. It was already there. Her honey eyes met violet ones as Rhysand leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine.

No, love, keep going. I was enjoying the delicious thoughts you were having. My brothers and I love sharing our toys. You could have Cassian and Nesta, myself and Feyre- His voice was purr that made her shiver with chills as she slammed him back out and watched as he looked at Azriel.

The winged male's only response was one side of his mouth twitching into a smile before he became unreadable again.

"Now that Seraphina has been educated on some of the finer matters of life, can we continue?" Kal asked coldly as he leaned back into his chair.

Eris discretely handed his sister back her candy. He shot her one look that said, "Be good," before focusing solely on Tamlin and Rhysand restarting their lovers spat.

Seraphina made eye contact with Azriel again as she slowly put the sucker back in her mouth. Azriel pulled his lower lip into his mouth and tugged the mating bond, praying Rhysand had been right when he said he had found it in her mind, but the female just didn't know what it was. Another way to keep her in the dark and innocent, Azriel thought bitterly.

She made a confused face as she looked down at her chest. Then followed the string to Azriel, lollipop now back in the same trapped position of her lips, If you continue looking at me like that with those pretty lips wrapped around that thing, I am not responsible for what happens next little bunny.

Is what Nesta said true? Azriel felt his leathers growing tight at her curious nature. He could feel desire radiating in their bond.

Of course. Only, I eat pussy for my pleasure, not yours. And I will eat pussy because I want to. Not because you've wrapped your pretty little mouth on my cock. He had her. He felt her arousal spike as she shifted. I imagine you'll also be the type who sucks cock for your pleasure instead of mine, little mate.

I'd like to learn. He almost came right then and there as he watched her put the candy in her mouth, eyes wide like a doe.

Keep doing that, baby, and I'll be stealing you to teach you much, much more than just whatever bullshit Tamlin told you. Fucking ruin you for anyone else.

Seraphina turned her attention back to the book she had with a small smile, I'm doing emissary work in the Dawn Court all week this week. I'll be alone tonight.

I'll find you.

I look forward to it.

#acotar #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel x vanserra!oc

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thatbloodymuggle · 8 months ago

Text

MASTERMIND

PROLOGUE

SUMMARY: a child of light and dark, you are the Night Court’s best kept secret. After decades spent in hiding, you yearn to stretch your wings. But you quickly learn that freedom comes with a price, as you find yourself trying to outfox the fox in his own den.

PAIRING: eris vanserra x reader

WORD COUNT: 1k

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: none for now

The Night Court was home to Prythian’s oldest and darkest secrets. Perhaps it was the rippling terror of the Court of Nightmares, or the nightfall darker than any other region, that granted it the ability to house so many enigmas. However, from the city of Velaris to the Ouroboros, each secret had its expiration date. As the old saying goes, there are no secrets that time does not reveal—and in an immortal world, time was a fickle thing. But few knew of the Night Court’s best kept secret.

She was the bastard child of Keir, the Steward of Hewn City, and Marjorie, a high fae librarian of the Day Court. Born from an unwilling affair between the two immortals, she was kept hidden from her father. For nearly two decades, Marjorie used every last drop of her powers to conceal her pregnancy and her child. The Day Court faerie knew that if her abuser ever gained knowledge of his child’s existence, it would be a death sentence. Marjorie raised her daughter alone. She grew up concealed among the infinite bookshelves of the Day Court’s libraries. She learned to read before she could walk, and speak in ancient tongues at the ripe age of five. Despite her haunting ability to sink into the shadows, a gift bestowed upon her by her ignorant father, she was a child of the Day Court, through and through. It wasn’t her spell-cleaving ability or the tendrils of light she could summon at her fingertips that made her a child of the Day; rather, it was her thirst for knowledge and sharp intelligence that even the Cauldron itself marveled.

Morrigan, the third in command of the Night Court, was the first to find her. As the threat of Amarantha’s rise dispersed through the courts of Prythian, Marjorie knew she had to act quickly. Driven by the fear of her precious child landing in the hands of Kier, the librarian wrote to the only family she trusted to keep her daughter out of harm’s way. Despite the shock of her half-sister’s existence, Morrigan acted without hesitation. The third in command took her sister to the safety of Velaris without hesitation. Marjorie promised her weeping daughter that she would one day return; that they would meet again when all evil had been righted. But she knew. She knew in her heart that it would be the last time she would see her mother. Despite the terror that Amarantha’s invasion instilled in Marjorie, she died peacefully knowing that her pride and joy was out of evil’s grasp.

The inner circle of the Night Court was the next to learn of her existence. They were at first wary, due to the threat of war growing through Prythian. But the doe eyes identical to Morrigan’s were a window into the goodness of her soul. Rhysand didn’t need to tap into the cobblestone barriers of her mind to see her striking erudition, sharp tongue, and despite its intricacies, her pure heart. But time, in all its futility, was against him. As he travelled to Under the Mountain, where he would remain for the next half-century, she found solace in the library of Velaris. Although not as vast as her once home in the Day Court, she valued the wealth of literature and treated it with a level of admiration Clotho hadn’t witnessed in centuries.

When she wasn’t browsing through the rows and rows of titles, she found herself growing close with the other members of the Night Court’s inner circle. Amren took a liking to her quick wit. Azriel found himself drawn to the gentle curiosity, rather than fear, that graced her features when she first studied his scarred hands. Cassian admired the unrelenting fearlessness she carried from fickle debates to the training ring. And Morrigan found a piece of her heart she hadn’t known was missing since the day her father dropped her at the borders of the Forest House in the Autumn Court. She had found her sister. A sister not only bound to her by choice, but by blood. Through the constant fear of Rhysand’s absence and Amarantha’s rule, she was the silver lining; the flickering flame that wouldn’t go out, no matter how hard the winds of evil blew.

Nearly a decade into her stay in Velaris, she began to grow restless. She had spent the first twenty years of her existence cooped up in the libraries of the Day Court. She appreciated the change of scenery that Velaris brought. But there was an incessant itch in the back of her brain she could not scratch. She had read thousands of books detailing the histories, landscapes, and people of Prythian. Yet she had never set foot into the vast world surrounding her. She was a caged bird, yearning to stretch her wings. So, she concocted a plan. Rhysand’s last ditch effort to keep Velaris safe only forced his inner circle to remain within the limits of the city.

She became Athena Ellesmere: a merchant and cartographer’s daughter, sent to each court to engage in tradings and research the vast lands and seas of Prythian. She forged relationships with citizens of each court—farmers, vendors, lower-level employees of the High Lords. She gathered intel on the inner-workings of each court, the sentiment of its people, and the status of Amarantha’s cruel grasp. She became an asset to the Night Court during the queen’s rule of terror. Upon Rhysand’s return decades later, she was officially inducted into his inner circle as the Liaison of the Night Court. During the war against Hybern, her role as a liaison was critical for reaching parts of Prythian the Spymaster’s shadows could not through conversation. Her fluency in literature and ancient tongues was invaluable in helping Amren crack the code of the book. Her allegiance to those who had saved her from certain doom at the hands of her father was unwavering. And when the famed Archeron sisters took residence in Velaris, she vowed to protect them as her Night Court family had protected her.

To Prythian, she was a merchant and cartographer’s daughter. To the inner circle, she was their best kept secret. But as the old saying goes, there are no secrets that time does not reveal.

#acotar #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra fanfic #acotar fanfic #eris x reader #mastermind

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moonlitstoriess · 5 days ago

Text

Binding Lies- Eris Vanserra x fem! reader (mini-series) Part 7

Summary: When Y/N, Azriel's secret half-sister who lives far away, and Eris Vanserra form a strategic contractual marriage to further their own agendas, what begins as a carefully crafted arrangement soon becomes more complicated. As they pretend to be a perfect couple, the lines between duty and desire blur, and neither is prepared for the consequences.

See masterlist

Previous part

Warnings: kissing scene, some angst, tension

The wind howled outside the small cottage, rattling the wooden walls and making the candlelight flicker. The scent of damp earth and burning firewood clung to the air, mixing with the faint aroma of herbs drying by the window. Y/n sat on the floor, legs crossed, watching as her mother carefully stitched a torn tunic, her movements practiced and methodical. There was something different about her that night—her usual sharp eyes distant, her shoulders drawn tight.

Y/n had noticed it all day, the way her mother had been quieter than usual, how she had barely smiled, barely looked at her. And now, in the dim glow of the cottage, the weight of that silence pressed down on her like a heavy cloak.

“Mother?” Y/n’s voice was hesitant, careful.

Her mother didn’t look up. “Yes, my love?”

Y/n hesitated, fingers twisting in the fabric of her dress. “You—you’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

Her mother’s hands stilled. For a moment, Y/n thought she wouldn’t answer. But then, with a quiet sigh, she set the tunic aside and finally met her daughter’s gaze. There was something haunted in her expression, something distant and aching.

“I always think about him,” she murmured.

Y/n swallowed hard. “Did you love him?”

Her mother didn’t answer right away. She turned her gaze to the fire, eyes flickering with the flames. “Once,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “A long time ago.”

Y/n curled her arms around herself, trying to piece together the fractured bits of truth she had collected over the years. She had always known her mother kept secrets. That there was more to their past than she let on. But it wasn’t until that night—until the words slipped from her mother’s lips—that she learned the truth that would change everything.

“You have a brother,” her mother said, voice soft but firm. “In the Night Court.”

Y/n’s breath caught.

Her heart pounded so hard it nearly drowned out the sound of the storm outside. “A brother?” she echoed, as if saying it aloud would make it less impossible.

Her mother nodded, and something in her face softened, like the weight of the secret had finally begun to lift. “His name is Azriel.”

The name sent a jolt through Y/n, like a puzzle piece snapping into place. She had heard of him before—whispers of the shadowsinger, of the spymaster cloaked in darkness. But never, not once, had she thought she could be tied to him by blood.

She shook her head, voice barely steady. “Does he—does he know?”

Her mother’s lips pressed together, a quiet sorrow settling in her eyes. “No.”

The answer was both a relief and a wound.

Y/n wasn’t sure what was worse: the fact that she had a brother she had never known, or the fact that he didn’t even know she existed.

A lump formed in her throat as she whispered, “Why didn’t you tell him?”

Her mother exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand over her face. “Because I couldn’t.” She turned back to Y/n, her gaze sharp and serious. “You have to understand, my love. I left the Night Court before he was born. And I—I made choices that ensured I could never return. Your father eventually found me and well…we had you. By the time I learned of his existence, it was too late.”

Y/n clenched her jaw, emotions churning inside her. “It’s not too late now,” she insisted. “We could—”

“No.” The finality in her mother’s voice cut through the air. “You must promise me, Y/n. Promise me that you will never seek him out. That you will never tell him.”

Y/n’s stomach twisted. “But why?”

Her mother reached for her then, cupping Y/n’s face in her hands. “Because some secrets are meant to stay buried,” she murmured. “And if you love me—if you trust me—you will let this one remain in the past.”

Y/n blinked back the sting of tears, her heart breaking under the weight of something she didn’t understand.

But she nodded. Because what else could she do?

And that night, long after her mother had fallen asleep, Y/n lay awake in the darkness, whispering the name of the brother she would never know.

Azriel.

Y/n’s eyes snapped open.

For a moment, she forgot where she was, her heart racing in her chest as if she were still that little girl curled up in bed, whispering a name that felt like both a prayer and a curse.

But then reality settled in.

She wasn’t in that small, warm cottage anymore. She wasn’t a child staring at the ceiling, wondering about a brother she could never meet.

She was here. In the Autumn Court. In Eris’s bed.

The weight of the silk sheets tangled around her, but the warmth at her side was far more distracting.

She turned her head slowly, her breath catching as she took in Eris’s sleeping form.

His face was relaxed in a way she had never seen before, his usual sharp edges softened in sleep. The golden glow of early morning painted his features in warm hues, his auburn hair spilling across the pillow, strands falling over his forehead.

She swallowed.

He looked… beautiful.

It was a dangerous thought, one she quickly tried to smother. But it lingered, simmering in the depths of her mind as she let herself stare for a moment longer.

Eris Vanserra was many things—infuriating, cold, calculating. But in sleep, with his guard lowered, he was something else entirely.

Something she could almost admire.

Almost.

She exhaled quietly, forcing herself to look away. This was temporary. They were temporary. It didn’t matter how peaceful he looked now, how her heart gave an odd little flutter at the sight of him. None of it mattered.

With a quiet sigh, Y/n turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.

The ball was happening.

She was going to meet him.

Azriel.

And no matter how many times she tried to prepare herself for it, she knew nothing would ever be enough.

Y/n hadn’t been able to sleep.

No matter how long she lay in bed, no matter how many times she closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe slowly, evenly, the storm in her mind refused to settle. The thought of him—of Azriel—seeing her for the first time, truly seeing her, had burrowed into her skull, refusing to let go.

So, at the first hint of dawn, she had given up.

And even though she hated him in that moment—hated the way he had unknowingly turned her world upside down with just a few words—she still found herself staring.

It was unfair, how easily he could rest, while she lay awake drowning in thoughts she couldn’t voice.

With a quiet breath, she slipped out of bed.

She had wandered the halls for hours, the cool air of the palace failing to clear the chaos in her mind. Her body ached with exhaustion, but she knew she wouldn’t find sleep now. Not with the knowledge of what was coming weighing so heavily on her chest.

When she found herself in the quiet wing of the palace where Samira’s chambers were, she didn’t hesitate.

Samira was by the window, brushing out her long, dark hair, when Y/n stepped inside. She barely looked surprised to see her.

“You look like hell,” Samira said bluntly, setting the brush down.

Y/n let out a weak, humorless huff. “I feel worse.”

Samira tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly. “What happened?”

Y/n sank onto a cushioned bench, running a hand down her face. “Eris told me something last night. About an event we have to attend.”

Samira’s brows lifted. “And?”

“It’s not just another court gathering,” Y/n said. “It’s…all of them. All seven.”

Samira blinked. “A ball for all the High Lords?”

Y/n nodded, gripping her hands together in her lap. She hadn’t meant to say so much. Hadn’t meant to let the words slip so easily. But now that they had, she couldn’t seem to stop the tightness in her chest.

Samira considered her for a long moment. “And why does that terrify you?”

Y/n stiffened. “It doesn’t terrify me.”

“Liar,” Samira said, arching a brow. “You’re pale. You haven’t slept. And you came here before breakfast, which means you’re spiraling.”

Y/n exhaled sharply, glancing away.

Samira leaned forward, voice softer now. “What’s wrong?”

There was no way she could explain it. No way she could tell Samira the truth—that somewhere in the Night Court, a male existed who shared her blood. That he would be at the ball, standing among the others, completely unaware of her existence.

So she forced herself to shrug, forced the words to come out light and dismissive. “I just—this wasn’t part of the plan. I thought I’d only have to deal with the Autumn Court, not every other High Lord and their pompous courtiers.”

Samira studied her for a long moment before sighing. “Court politics will never be easy, but you’ve handled them before. You’ll survive this too.”

Y/n nodded mutely, though her stomach churned at the thought.

Samira hesitated before speaking again. “If it’s too overwhelming, I can stay by your side the whole night. We’ll get through it together.”

Something in Y/n’s chest tightened. Samira had no idea the real reason for her fear, had no idea the storm that was raging inside her. And yet, here she was, offering unwavering loyalty.

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

Samira gave a small nod. “Now, go get some rest. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Y/n huffed a quiet laugh but stood.

She didn’t tell Samira that sleep wouldn’t come. That even when she closed her eyes, all she saw was him.

Eris awoke to the cold.

It wasn’t the temperature of the room that sent a chill down his spine, but the absence. The absence of warmth beside him, the absence of her presence in the space they begrudgingly shared.

His eyes blinked open, adjusting to the morning light that streamed through the windows, casting golden streaks across the polished floors. He reached out instinctively, fingers grazing only cool sheets.

Empty.

The room was empty.

His entire body tensed as he pushed himself upright, eyes scanning the space. Her side of the bed was long abandoned, her clothes were gone, not a single sign of her lingering in the room.

She had left.

Eris swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his mind already racing as he stood. He dressed swiftly, pulling on a crisp tunic and trousers, buckling his belt with sharp, efficient movements. His fingers itched to burn something—to curl around the closest object and hurl it at the wall, but he forced his frustration down, swallowing it like bitter wine.

She was avoiding him.

His jaw clenched as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, his mind replaying the moment from the feast last night.

The way she had stilled.

One second, they had been sitting together, their usual tension crackling beneath the surface as they pretended, performed for the court. Then, as soon as he mentioned the event, as soon as he uttered those words—all six courts—she had gone rigid.

He had seen it. The way her face had drained of color, the way her fingers had twitched slightly against her goblet before she gripped it too tightly, as if anchoring herself.

And then…

That question. The way her voice had wavered.

“So—so does that mean everyone from Night will be there?”

At the time, he had been too caught up in her odd behavior to fully think about it. But now…

Now, his thoughts were catching up.

His mind reached back, further than last night, back to when they had been on the ship. The first time she had ever mentioned the Night Court, the first time she had spoken Azriel’s name.

She had asked about him, specifically.

His golden eyes narrowed as he fastened his boots, every piece clicking into place, yet still making no sense.

Why had she asked about the Night Court back then? And why—why, last night, had she reacted that way at the mention of the ball?

Eris Vanserra did not enjoy not knowing things.

He was a High Lord’s son, raised to pick apart every detail, to never leave a question unanswered. And yet here he was, standing in the middle of his empty chamber, entirely in the dark.

His jaw clenched, and without another thought, he strode out of the room.

The hall was already filling with the scent of breakfast—freshly baked bread, roasted meats, the rich aroma of tea and spiced cider.

Eris’ pace quickened as he made his way toward the dining room, his lips pressed into a thin line.

She was avoiding him.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

She wasn’t supposed to be the one slipping away, not when he was the one who dictated the terms of this arrangement. Not when he had carefully crafted every move, every interaction to ensure that he was always in control.

Yet, here she was, dodging him, and he hated the way it made his stomach twist.

Eris entered the dining hall with smooth, practiced ease, his expression unreadable as his sharp eyes scanned the room.

And then—

His gaze landed on her plate.

It was empty.

The goblet beside it bore the faintest smudge of where her lips had touched. The plate had been used, the utensils slightly out of place.

She had already eaten.

Before him.

Eris’ fingers curled into fists at his sides.

She had woken up before him, left their room, and eaten before he even arrived—ensuring that they wouldn’t cross paths.

Avoiding me.

The realization burned hotter than it should have.

But there were servants in the room—several of them. And if there was one thing Eris refused to do, it was let anyone see when something bothered him.

So, without a word, without even a flicker of emotion betraying him, he took his seat.

The chair was polished, the table set to perfection, the quiet clink of dishes filling the space around him.

He picked up his fork and began to eat.

Silent.

Seething.

And all the while, his thoughts churned—about last night, about her strange questions on the ship, about the Night Court, about Azriel.

And about the female who had disappeared from his bed before dawn, who was slipping further and further from his grasp.

The midday sun hung high, casting golden rays through the sprawling gardens of the Autumn Court as Y/N sat in the grand courtyard, forced into yet another tedious royal duty. A gathering of noblewomen surrounded her, their chatter blending into one endless, droning noise as they sipped on spiced cider and nibbled on pastries.

It was a tradition—an honor, Lady of Autumn had called it—for the heir's wife to host the seasonal tea gatherings, ensuring that the females of the court remained entertained and content. To Y/N, it felt more like a slow death.

She kept her face poised, her posture impeccable as she engaged in small talk, nodding when necessary, smiling when required. It was exhausting, performing this role, weaving through the webs of courtly expectations, pretending that every word spoken didn’t bore her to madness.

Samira stood a few steps behind, always close, always watching.

Y/N barely listened as Lady Thelia prattled on about some nobleman’s daughter marrying a lesser lord, the woman’s voice lilting with thinly veiled condescension. But just as she was about to take another careful sip of her untouched cider, a sudden commotion at the far end of the courtyard caught her attention.

A young servant boy, no older than fourteen, pushed his way through the gathering, his face flushed with exertion, his chest heaving. His brown tunic bore the Autumn Court sigil, but it was wrinkled and stained with sweat.

He didn’t even bow before blurting out, "Highness—quick, please!"

Y/N immediately straightened, her heart stuttering at the sheer panic in his voice. "What is it?" she demanded, already setting down her glass.

The boy swallowed hard before rushing out, "Prince Eris—he’s been wounded, badly. He needs help!"

The words slammed into her, knocking the air from her lungs.

Her fingers curled tightly around the fabric of her gown, dread twisting in her gut. "What?" she breathed, standing so abruptly that the women around her startled. "Where? How did he—"

But the boy shook his head frantically. "No time, Princess! Please, just follow me!"

Panic seized her. She turned sharply to Samira, whose usually calm expression had faltered into something tense and urgent. Y/N barely needed to say anything before Samira gave a quick nod, her own silent Go.

Without hesitation, Y/N turned on her heel and ran.

The conversations of the nobles turned to shocked murmurs, but she didn’t care. Her mind emptied, one thought, one name consuming her—

Eris. Eris. Eris.

Y/N ran after the servant boy, her heart slamming against her ribs with each hurried step. The gravel crunched beneath her feet, the wind whipping through her hair as she sprinted through the Autumn Court’s vast grounds.

"Eris—badly wounded—" The words rang in her skull, an unbearable knot of fear tightening in her chest.

"How bad?" she demanded, breathless, as they weaved through the towering trees of the palace grounds.

"Very," the boy gasped without looking back, his short legs moving fast.

Her stomach churned. Eris was strong, fast, skilled. For him to be injured badly enough that a servant was sent running for her meant—

She shook her head. No. No, he’s fine. He has to be fine.

The path twisted, and she followed blindly, her mind too focused on reaching him to question why they were moving deeper into the estate rather than back toward the palace’s infirmary. It wasn’t until the scent of damp earth and the low, distant growling of hounds reached her ears that she hesitated.

Her steps slowed as they entered a clearing where high, iron-barred kennels stood in neat rows, each filled with massive, hulking figures of Autumn Court hounds. Eris’ hounds.

Her brow furrowed.

"What the hell?" she muttered, coming to a full stop, eyes scanning the dimly lit kennels. "Why the hell am I here?" She turned to the servant, irritation flickering through the worry still clenching her stomach. "Where is Eris?"

But the boy didn’t answer. Instead, he bolted.

"Hey!" she shouted, twisting after him. "Get back here, you little—!"

"So now you worry for me, huh?"

Y/N whirled around at the deep, smooth voice behind her.

Her breath hitched. Eris stood a few feet away, arms crossed, looking infuriatingly smug.

Her gaze flew over him, scanning—searching—for the grave injury she had been running toward in panic. But there was nothing. No blood, no limp, not even a damn scrape. He looked fine.

More than fine, actually.

"You—" she breathed, chest heaving. "You’re fine?"

And then it hit her.

Her wide eyes turned into a glare so sharp it could slice through steel. Her jaw clenched, her hands curled into fists—

"You PRICK!"

The words tore from her throat as she stormed forward, slamming her hands against his chest. It did absolutely nothing to him—he was built like a damn mountain—but she didn’t care. She hit him again. And again.

"You lied!" she seethed, each word punctuated by another shove. "You lied so you could draw me out here—!"

"Shhh," Eris tsked, his fingers wrapping around her wrists in one smooth movement. He pulled her closer, stopping her assault with infuriating ease. "Yeah, sorry not sorry, but you didn’t give me any other options."

Her glare burned hotter. "You absolute, arrogant, insufferable—"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, darling," he drawled, a smirk curling at his lips.

"I should rip your throat out," she hissed.

"And yet," he mused, his grip tightening slightly, "here you are, so terribly worried about me. How touching."

"Go to hell, Eris."

He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her temple. "Darling, I am hell."

She snarled, yanking herself free from his grasp, but before she could unleash another string of curses, a deep, menacing growl rolled through the air.

Y/N stilled.

Eris chuckled, stepping to her side as he gestured toward the towering hounds in the kennels, their sharp eyes watching her every move.

"Y/N, dearest," he said smoothly, "meet my sons."

She blinked, glancing at the monstrous beasts lined up behind the bars. Huge, thickly muscled, their coats ranging from deep russet to ink-black. Their eyes glowed amber in the dim light, filled with intelligence, obedience.

All except for one.

While the rest sat silently, awaiting orders, one beast at the far end paced restlessly, his lips curling back to reveal sharp canines, his growl endless and unrelenting.

Eris sighed dramatically. "And that would be him," he muttered, nodding toward the growling beast. "The problem child."

Y/N tilted her head slightly, watching the hound with intrigue. "What’s his name?"

Eris smirked. "Ruvan."

The hound bared its teeth at her.

Without thinking, Y/N slowly stepped forward. Eris’ hand shot out, but she shook him off.

"Easy," she murmured, crouching before the cage. "I’m not going to hurt you."

Ruvan’s growling softened—just slightly.

She kept her voice low, gentle, murmuring quiet reassurances. The beast tilted his head slightly, his glowing eyes locked on hers. Slowly, carefully, she reached a hand toward the bars.

And for a moment, just a moment, Ruvan stilled.

Then, as if shaking off some trance, he lunged—his teeth snapping just inches from her fingers.

But before he could get any closer, Y/N was yanked backward, her spine colliding with a firm chest, warm hands gripping her waist tightly.

A breath, hot and low, ghosted over her ear.

"Yeah," Eris murmured against her skin, "that’s Ruvan. The one you should probably never go near."

Her breath hitched.

At their proximity. At the way his fingers curled just slightly against the fabric of her gown. At the heat of him pressing against her back.

She swallowed, blinking rapidly as she willed herself to move, to breathe.

Then, with a sharp exhale, she shoved away from him, fixing him with a glare.

"You’re insufferable," she muttered.

He grinned. "And yet, you’re still here."

"Not for long," she shot back, already turning. "I’m leaving."

Eris only followed, keeping pace beside her as she strode toward the exit.

"I believe," he mused, amusement lacing his voice, "you won’t be avoiding me anymore."

She scoffed, not sparing him a glance. "Oh, I definitely will be."

He clicked his tongue. "Unlikely, given that you just sprinted across the palace in a panic over my well-being."

"That was before I knew you were a manipulative, lying bastard."

He sighed dramatically. "You wound me, wife."

"Not yet, but give me a sword and we’ll see."

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. They reached an intersection in the halls—her path turning left, his turning right.

She was about to continue forward when he stopped, his voice softer, quieter.

"Y/N."

She hesitated. Something about the way he said her name was... different.

Not mocking, not teasing—just soft.

She turned, brows furrowed slightly, lips parting—

But Eris only held her gaze for a moment before giving a small, almost unreadable nod. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

Y/N stood there, unmoving, watching as he disappeared down the hall.

Her heart beat a little too fast.

And she hated that it did.

Three hours had passed since he had last seen her. Since he had dragged her out to the kennels, watched her bristle and snap at him, only to leave before he could get another read on her.

She was avoiding him. Still.

Eris sat in his private study, the scent of firewood and aged parchment thick in the air. A map of the Autumn Court sprawled across his desk, delicate but marked with small, deliberate annotations—some in ink, some burned into the parchment with his fire. Stacks of reports from spies, lists of names—some crossed out—lay beside it.

A single candle flickered, casting jagged shadows across the room, but he barely noticed. His mind was ruthless, sharp, cutting through distractions like a blade.

His father, Beron, still believed he controlled this court. Still believed his word was absolute. But Eris had spent years working in the shadows, shifting the tides of power, bending them ever so slightly in his favor. And now, with Y/N by his side, his claim to the throne had grown stronger. The marriage had been a calculated risk—a move to solidify his position among the court's nobles. He needed her as his shield and weapon, to keep Beron’s suspicions at bay.

But that had been the easy part. The harder part was what came next.

Eris picked up a letter, scanning the words. It was from one of his informants within Beron’s inner circle. A lord—one Eris had been slowly poisoning with false trust—had begun whispering doubts about Beron’s leadership. Good.

He moved to another document, a list of the strongest warriors in Autumn, ones loyal to him rather than his father. He marked two more names with an ember-hot fingertip. Very good.

But it wasn’t enough. Beron was paranoid. No move could be made until the perfect moment. And Eris couldn’t let his father suspect a thing.

His jaw tightened. The marriage should have been simple: a way to gain power, to steady his image, to play the role of the devoted husband while quietly setting his pieces in place.

But Y/N was not cooperating. She was avoiding him, keeping her thoughts locked away. And that moment last night, when she had frozen at the mention of the Night Court—when something in her eyes had screamed secrets—it unsettled him more than it should have.

He didn’t like being in the dark.

And yet, despite his frustration, despite how inconvenient it was, he found himself drawn to her in ways that were notstrategic. It was… infuriating.

His fingers drummed against the desk. He did not have time for this. He had spent too long shaping this plan, twisting every misfortune into an opportunity. He would not allow something as reckless as feelings to disrupt it.

Eris leaned back, eyes narrowing at the map once more. There were still more pieces to shift. More alliances to solidify. More knives to position in the dark.

A ball was coming. The six other courts would be present. And that meant High Lords, powerful emissaries, and the perfect stage for subtle, deadly negotiations.

If played correctly, this event could bring him one step closer to finally toppling his father.

His lips curved into a slow, calculating smile.

Let the game continue.

The grand dressing chamber was buzzing with movement, the warm glow of candlelight bouncing off silk and gold. Y/N sat rigidly in front of an ornate mirror, barely hearing the hushed voices around her, her thoughts an absolute mess.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, she would be in a room with all the High Lords. Tomorrow, she would meet him.

Her half-brother.

Her fingers clenched in her lap, nails pressing into her palms as her mind twisted and turned, cycling through a hundred different ways this could go wrong. Would he know? Would anyone suspect?

She barely noticed the hush that had settled in the room until someone cleared their throat.

“Highness?” one of the maidens prompted, and Y/N blinked, snapping out of her thoughts.

“Oh. Yes—sorry.”

“We asked which of these you prefer,” the maiden said, gesturing toward the row of dresses presented before her.

Y/N forced herself to focus. The first dress was crimson, embroidered with golden filigree and stitched pearls. The second, a deep sapphire, shimmering under the candlelight with a bodice so heavy with jewels that she could only imagine how suffocating it would feel. The third, a pale silver monstrosity with sheer sleeves and intricate lace that swallowed the fabric beneath it.

They were all… too much.

Too glittering. Too excessive. Too drenched in wealth to the point of being ugly.

“I don’t like any of them,” she said simply.

The maidens exchanged glances before one of them stepped forward, her voice careful, but laced with an unmistakable edge of condescension. “But, Your Royal Highness, these dresses are the most expensive in all of Prythian. They were crafted by Lady Evandria’s Atelier, a designer who only makes gowns for the most elite of royals.”

Y/N bit back a sigh. “That may be so, but I still don’t like them.”

The maidens hesitated, clearly trying to find the right words to argue with her without overstepping, when Samira—silent up until now—finally spoke.

“I think I have an idea,” she said, stepping forward.

Y/N turned to her immediately. “What?”

Samira gave her a knowing look before walking over to a trunk she had brought from Montesere, flipping it open. The maidens stood stiffly, their displeasure barely concealed as Samira carefully pulled out two dresses, unfolding them before Y/N.

They weren’t drenched in excessive jewels or stitched with pretentious embroidery. And yet, they commanded attention effortlessly.

The first was an obsidian-black gown, sleek and smooth, with long fitted sleeves and a neckline that wasn’t too revealing, but still elegant. Tiny flecks of silver dusted the fabric like stars in the night sky, subtle yet stunning.

The second was a deep, blood-red dress with a fitted bodice and an asymmetrical skirt that draped effortlessly, the fabric moving like liquid fire. Unlike the dresses chosen by the maidens, it didn’t scream royalty—it whispered it, carrying the weight of power in a way that didn’t need excess to be seen.

Y/N’s breath caught as she reached out, running her fingers over the red fabric. “This one,” she said immediately, her voice quiet, but sure.

Samira smirked, as if she had known all along which dress Y/N would choose. “A good choice,” she murmured, handing it to her.

The maidens, however, were less pleased. Their expressions soured as they moved stiffly to assist, and as they laced up the back of her gown, Y/N caught the glares they were sending Samira’s way.

It was almost amusing.

But just as she was beginning to feel at ease, one of the maidens spoke, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

“Highness, forgive my curiosity, but…” The girl tilted her head, adjusting the folds of Y/N’s dress as she continued, “Have you checked if you are with child yet?”

Y/N’s entire body went still.

Even Samira’s hands momentarily froze before continuing their work, her movements more controlled now.

“What?” Y/N asked, keeping her voice even.

The maiden smiled, as if this were the most casual conversation in the world. “Well, since you and Prince Eris love each other so much, we thought you’d already be with child by now.”

The words love each other rang bitterly in her mind.

Y/N inhaled slowly, forcing herself to keep her composure. “That is an incredibly bold assumption,” she said coolly.

“Not an assumption, Highness,” another maiden chimed in, feigning innocence. “Merely an expectation. Most royal couples are blessed with an heir not long after their wedding.”

Her hands curled into fists at her sides. She wanted to snap back, wanted to tell them to shut their smug mouths—but she couldn’t. Not without giving them more to gossip about.

So she smiled, slow and sharp, as she met the maiden’s gaze. “How fortunate, then, that I decide when and if that happens.”

The maidens fell silent.

Samira hid a smirk as she finished securing the dress.

Y/N turned back to the mirror, staring at her reflection. The gown fit her perfectly, the deep red standing in stark contrast to her skin. She looked regal. Powerful.

And yet, her thoughts were elsewhere.

Her thoughts were on Eris.

On the mess she had gotten herself into.

On the storm brewing just beneath the surface.

The fire crackled low in the hearth, casting flickering shadows against the carved wooden walls of their shared chamber. Y/N sat at the vanity, brushing through her hair with slow, deliberate strokes, the deep red silk of her nightgown pooling around her. The weight of the day pressed down on her, the thoughts of tomorrow's ball, the suffocating expectations, and the damn maidens still gnawing at her mind.

She barely heard the door open—barely felt the rush of cool air before Eris entered.

He didn’t say a word as he strode in, his steps purposeful but heavy with something unspoken. Without so much as glancing her way, he moved toward his side of the room, shrugging off his outer coat.

The tension thickened, pressing against her skin like an iron band around her throat.

Y/N didn’t have to look at him to feel it—the weight of his silence, the sharp, unrelenting energy crackling in the air.

It had been like this all day.

She sighed, setting down her brush. “What’s wrong?”

Eris didn’t even pause in undoing the buckles of his jacket. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Y/N let out a short, dry laugh, tilting her head as she met his gaze in the mirror’s reflection. “You have tense shoulders and a clear frown on your face that makes me feel like if you look at me for more than a minute, I will drop dead immediately. So, yes, there is something wrong, Eris.”

His hands stilled for a fraction of a second before he exhaled through his nose, as if debating whether to even entertain this conversation.

Then, at last, he pulled off his coat, his vest, and the fine shirt beneath, stripping away the layers of Autumn Court finery until he sat on his side of the bed, his back to her.

“Calanmai is approaching,” he muttered. “All this tension is just due to it.”

Y/N blinked.

“…Calamari?”

Eris’s back tensed.

“Don’t tell me it’s some other event,” she sighed, rubbing her temple. “Because if it is, I might just—”

She felt the change in him before she saw it.

A rigid stillness. A sharp inhale. Like he hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

Her frustration deepened. “Eris?”

“Forget what I said,” he said curtly, his voice clipped.

Oh, absolutely not.

Y/N turned in her seat, narrowing her eyes at him. “Nothing this, nothing that,” she muttered, rising to her feet and padding toward the bed. “And yet I’m the one who gets scolded when I don’t tell you something?”

Eris’s jaw ticked, but he said nothing.

She crossed her arms. “What is Calanmai?”

Silence.

“Eris.”

Nothing.

Her irritation flared hotter. “You always demand honesty from me,” she said, stepping closer. “But when I ask you—”

“I said it’s nothing, Y/N.”

His voice came sharp, cutting, the warning in his tone enough to make her stop mid-step.

Before she could say anything else, he rose abruptly, striding across the room and disappearing into the bathing chamber, the door slamming shut behind him.

Y/N stood there, the tension now so thick it was suffocating.

Her thoughts were even more tangled than before.

And for the first time since this marriage began, she wondered if she had finally found something that Eris Vanserra didn’t want her to know.

The next afternoon dragged on, each moment stretching longer than the last, as Y/N paced back and forth in her chambers. Anxiety twisted in her stomach like a coiled snake, its tight grip squeezing every ounce of calm from her. The ball. Tonight. The night she would face the High Lords and everything that came with it. But most of all, it meant she would be in the same room as her half-brother—the one she’d never met before, but whose presence loomed over every decision she made.

What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to act? Her thoughts tumbled over themselves, a jumbled mess of fear and excitement. It felt like the world was about to tilt off its axis, and Y/N wasn’t sure whether she would be swept away in the chaos or crushed by it. Her nerves were raw, like threads ready to snap.

The sound of soft footsteps broke her out of her spiraling thoughts. The maidens, ever-efficient, filed into the room, moving with practiced grace. They bowed to her, their movements synchronized, and immediately set to work. Her dress hung on a nearby stand, its blood-red fabric gleaming in the light.

As the last maiden left the room, her heels clicking against the marble floor, the door remained ajar. And then, he entered. Eris.

His presence was immediate—heavy, commanding—and for a moment, he simply stood there, eyes fixed on her without a word. His gaze was intense, almost possessive, like he was absorbing every detail of her. The way his sharp eyes ran over her, making her feel naked even though she was dressed to the nines, made her stomach flip uncomfortably. It was the same kind of scrutiny a predator might give its prey.

She felt it then—the weight of his gaze. His eyes traced every line of her body, lingering on the tight bodice that clung to her chest, accentuating her breasts and collarbones. She could feel the weight of his stare, the way his gaze lingered—no, devoured—her, his focus fixed on the ruby necklace that caught the light with each subtle movement she made. The way it sparkled and drew attention to the rise and fall of her chest made her acutely aware of every breath she took.

Her skin burned where his gaze touched her. The fluster rose quickly within her, surprising her more than anything else. Why now? Why him?

He hadn’t even spoken yet, but it was as though he’d stripped her bare, rendering her exposed under the intensity of his stare. She swallowed, desperately trying to ignore the rush of heat that flooded her body. Her body was betraying her, reacting in ways she couldn’t control.

His expression remained unreadable, as if she was simply an object to be appraised. But his eyes—his eyes told a different story. They darkened with something primal, something raw, and she had no idea how to read it.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he took a step forward. His movements were deliberate, slow.

"You look..." His voice was softer than usual, smooth as silk, but there was an edge to it, like something coiled beneath the surface. His eyes flicked from her face to her dress. "Ready?"

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Was she?

She swallowed hard, a little too aware of the tension between them. The suffocating pull of it. She drew in a breath and sighed, trying to steady her shaking hands as she reached for him, her fingers brushing over his as she took his hand. "Ready as I’ll ever be."

His lips quirked into a knowing smirk, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Eris never looked at the maidens who had dressed her, nor did he offer any kind of acknowledgment to their work. His entire focus remained on her. On the female he’d dragged into his tangled web. His hand was warm, commanding, as it closed around hers.

For a second, he didn’t move, just stood there. Still, watching her. And then, with that unreadable look in his eyes, he broke the silence.

"Let’s go."

The heavy, echoing footsteps down the grand staircase felt like they were reverberating through the entire hall, each step measured but far too loud in her ears. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, her breath shallow as she clung to Eris’s arm. Her eyes were trained on the space ahead of her, but her mind raced, trying to calm the frantic beating inside her ribcage. Why did it feel like everyone was staring?

At the bottom of the stairs, the faces of Beron and his sons, Eris’s brothers, greeted her—a sight that made her feel like an outsider. There, too, was the Lady of Autumn, radiant in her beauty. Beron, his sharp eyes gleaming, spoke first, his voice cold and clipped.

“How gracious of you both to finally make it down here after an hour of waiting.”

The words hit her like ice. Y/N stiffened, but Eris’s grip on her arm tightened, his expression blank, cold, as he replied, his voice just as frigid.

“We’ve only just arrived, Father. But if you insist…”

The sarcasm hung between them like an invisible fog.

Before Beron could say anything further, the Lady of Autumn’s warm voice broke the tension, stepping forward with a smile that was too bright for the mood.

“You look stunning, dear,” she said, her gaze softening as she turned to Y/N, her eyes taking in the breathtaking gown. “The Autumn Court is honored to have you with us tonight.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed under the weight of the compliment, but she could feel the undercurrent of something else beneath her words. Was it genuine or merely out of obligation? Y/N couldn’t tell.

From behind them, Eris’s brothers exchanged quiet words, their eyes darting between Y/N and one another, clearly amused or intrigued. But, as always, it was Baron who silenced them, his cold, domineering presence drawing their attention back.

“Enough,” Beron’s voice cut through the chatter like a blade, and Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. She didn’t need to hear more from them—this wasn’t the place.

The Lady of Autumn, always poised, took Beron’s arm. Y/N felt Eris nudge her slightly, urging her to follow the lead of their parents. His words were brief, “Stay next to me,” he whispered, his voice so low only she could hear it. She nodded, her thoughts swirling, her nerves on edge.

Eris’s brothers fell in line behind them, and they began to walk toward the Great Doors, the heavy footsteps of their family leading the way. As the massive doors creaked open, Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

The ballroom stretched before her like a sea of shimmering faces and colors. Guests from every court were gathered there, mingling, laughing, and drinking. Hundreds of them. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail.

In the distance, she caught sight of a cluster of individuals dressed in blue and white, their white hair almost glowing under the lights. Winter Court, definitely, she thought to herself, before her gaze flitted to another corner. Gold and white, with males and females draped in regal attire—Day Court was unmistakable. Helion. I remember Samira telling me about him.

Then, there were those dressed in blue and gold, so regal they had to be Summer Court. The brightness of their colors nearly blinded her.

And then... her eyes landed on the Night Court.

The contrast between the dark hues of blacks, deep blues, and rich purples felt like the night itself had come alive within the ballroom. She could pick them out easily, just from their aura, from the way they stood—different, not just by their dress but by their presence. Her gaze froze, locking onto the male at the front. Tall, imposing, dark hair... Rhysand, I assume. Beside him was a female in fierce determination, with brown, long hair, standing with an undeniable strength. Feyre. The High Lady.

Her thoughts flickered as she tried to make out the others. There was a long-haired male next to Feyre, and Y/N's eyes narrowed. Cassian, she thought. The infamous Lord of Bloodshed, as Samira had mentioned.

Next to Cassian was a female who stood apart from the others—strong, striking. Nesta. The Valkyrie. Her reputation preceded her. Her intense eyes scanned the room with an air of quiet defiance.

But before she could take in more, Eris’s voice pulled her attention away.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “My father is about to give his speech,” he murmured. “Afterward, we’ll make our introductions. Be cautious. Helion is a bastard who loves to tease. Keep your guard up around him.”

Y/N blinked, her thoughts jumbled as she absorbed his words, but it felt like the ground beneath her feet was shifting. Helion. She remembered the rumors. A notorious flirt.

“Got it,” she muttered, though her heart was pounding too hard to keep up with the conversation.

Eris’s hand tightened around hers, drawing her closer as they took their seats in the reserved spots beside Baron and the Lady of Autumn. The crowd settled as Beron stood to address the room, his eyes sweeping over the sea of faces.

Y/N’s chest tightened as she tried to steady her breathing, but it was like she could feel every single eye on her. Her skin tingled. Every corner of the room felt like it was burning into her, their gazes weighing down on her like an unbearable burden. She didn’t know how to sit still, how to keep her face neutral. It was hard to think over the sound of her heartbeat.

Beron’s speech was a blur. Her mind was racing, replaying everything she had just seen, trying to calm her nerves, to put up a mask of poise. But it was impossible. She couldn’t remember half of what Baron said, his words lost in the jumbled mess of her thoughts.

She only knew one thing for certain: she had to survive this night.

Once Beron finished his speech, the room erupted into a low murmur of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the rustling of elegant fabric. Eris nudged Y/N, bringing her back from her spiraling thoughts. The weight of the entire ballroom seemed to press on her chest, but her gaze snapped to him when he spoke, his voice laced with a smirk.

“It’s our time to shine, princess,” he said, his tone a mixture of mockery and something else, maybe anticipation.

Y/N inhaled deeply, the sharp scent of expensive perfume and fresh flowers mingling in the air. Music began to fill the hall, the soft, melodic strains of a string quartet weaving their way through the space, lifting the tension in the air. The servants began to move more purposefully, offering trays of delicacies and sparkling drinks to the guests, weaving between conversations.

She took a moment to center herself, her heart still pounding. This was it. She was no longer an observer; she was part of the spectacle.

Y/N exhaled slowly, her nerves still frayed, but she nodded, reaching out to take Eris’s hand. His fingers curled around hers, a silent promise of support as he led her into the center of the room. The instant they stepped foot into the ballroom, the attention of every guest seemed to shift in their direction. It was as if the very air crackled with new energy.

And then, it happened.

From across the room, Helion, Kallias, and Thesan made their way toward them, cutting through the sea of faces like ships sailing into the eye of a storm. Kallias, the High Lord of the Winter Court, was impeccably formal, with his mate, Vivianne, by his side. Helion, ever the flirt, flashed them a grin that could melt ice, while Thesan remained calm, his presence a quiet but powerful force.

Helion was the first to speak, his voice rich with humor. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, his golden eyes flicking over Y/N as if she were a treasure chest he’d just uncovered. “What do we have here? Eris’s newest conquest?”

Before Eris could even react, Y/N shot him a glance, her eyebrow quirked in amusement, her voice soft but steady. “Conquest?” she repeated, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “I thought you’d have something more charming to say, High Lord Helion.”

Helion’s grin widened, clearly delighted by the challenge in her tone. “Ah, the lady has a spine. I like that.” He took a step closer, leaning in just slightly as if to whisper a secret. “Tell me, princess, do you enjoy long walks in the gardens under the stars? Or are you more of a fast-paced kind of woman?”

Eris’s grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly, a warning, though he kept his face impassive. Before Y/N could answer, Eris stepped in, his voice cutting through the conversation like a sharp blade.

“Helion,” he said, his tone both polite and firm, “if you’re done teasing, I’m sure Amira would appreciate a more civilized conversation.” His gaze flicked toward her briefly, making sure she was okay, before turning back to Helion, who simply shrugged with a dramatic sigh.

“I’ll behave, I’ll behave,” Helion said with exaggerated regret, though his mischievous smile was impossible to miss. “But one can’t blame a male for trying.”

Kallias stepped forward, offering a warm smile that softened the formality of his stature. “I must admit, Eris does have quite the taste. You look… stunning, Princess Y/N.” His voice was deep but kind, his words measured and respectful.

“Thank you, High Lord Kallias,” she replied, giving him a gracious nod. “It’s an honor to be here.”

Vivianne, standing beside him, beamed. “It’s truly exciting to see the Autumn Court make such an impression tonight. You’re even more radiant in person than in the rumors we’ve heard.” She had the warmth of someone who’d never met a stranger, and her gentle excitement was palpable. “I do hope we get a chance to speak more later. I’m sure you and I could have many lovely conversations.”

Y/N gave Vivianne a polite smile. “I’d like that as well. Thank you.”

Before Y/N could respond further, Thesan stepped up. His voice was calm, low, and laced with reassurance. “Do not let the chaos get to you,” he said, his eyes meeting hers with a steady gaze. “There are many here, yes, but few truly matter. You will find your footing soon enough. Just remember to breathe.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for his simple but effective words. "I will. Thank you, Thesan."

Then, as if everything was suddenly happening at once, Eris’s voice returned, sharper this time. “Enough small talk, people. We’re here to mingle, not to stand around looking pretty.” His gaze flicked back to Y/N with a softer look, an unspoken assurance. “Let’s get this over with.”

Helion, never one to back down from a challenge, grinned again. “Oh, come now, Eris. Let the lady enjoy the attention a little longer. It’s not every day she graces us with her presence.”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at the banter, feeling a little more at ease with the playful back-and-forth.

The night stretched on, and Y/N felt herself slipping further into the crowd. She tried to keep up with the conversations, making the right faces, nodding at the right times. She had met a few more High Lords--Tamlin, the brooding High Lord of Spring, who barely spared her a glance before turning his focus back to the crowd. The Summer Court's High Lord, whose name she’d already forgotten, had been polite but distant.

The conversations blurred into one long stream of names, titles, pleasantries, until her feet ached from the hours of standing. She had kept up well, trying her best to engage without drawing too much attention. She was getting better at pretending, at playing her part, but it wasn’t easy.

It was only when she and Eris were finishing a conversation with a high-ranking member of the Day court—someone whose name she hadn’t even managed to catch—that the unmistakable, powerful voice of Rhysand cut through the crowd like a clap of thunder.

“Ah, well, I think it’s time for the formal introductions,” Rhysand’s voice rang out, smooth and commanding, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.

Y/N’s breath caught, and she immediately turned, her pulse quickening as she saw Rhysand, standing tall with Feyre at his side. Cassian followed close behind them, a playful smirk on his face, though there was a quiet wariness in his eyes, as if he too knew the importance of this moment. But it was Azriel—just a step behind them—that caused Y/N’s world to stop spinning.

The instant their eyes locked, her heart skipped a beat. The rawness of the moment crashed into her like a wave, her thoughts jumbled and frenzied. She had spent so long in the shadows of her own existence, never quite knowing how to fit into this world—how to reconcile the parts of her that didn’t belong, or the half-brother she’d never known until now.

Azriel’s gaze was intense, cold, searching. And for a brief, wild moment, Y/N felt like she was drowning. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Every single thought she had about her life, her family, her identity—every fragmented memory of her past—began to collide in her mind.

Eris’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, though it was a distant echo. “Focus, princess,” he murmured, a soft nudge against her side that snapped her attention back to reality.

She blinked rapidly, trying to steady her breathing as her eyes darted back to Rhysand and Feyre, who were both watching her closely, their expressions unreadable. Feyre smiled warmly, and despite the intensity of the situation, it was like a balm on a wound that had yet to heal.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you properly,” Feyre said, her tone light but genuine. “Welcome, princess Amira. We’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

Y/N tried to keep her voice steady, but it trembled despite her efforts. “Thank you,” she said, her words coming out in a soft rush. “I’m honored to be here.”

Cassian, ever the more approachable of the group, gave her a quick smile and a nod. His eyes held something between a challenge and an understanding, but it was clear he was trying to make her feel more at ease in this foreign world.

As her eyes shifted to Azriel, she caught a brief flicker of recognition in his dark gaze, but when he met her eyes fully, it was like a wall slammed down. Azriel nodded, a simple, barely-there motion, before his attention drifted, as if there had been no real connection between them at all.

The sting hit hard, deep in her chest. Her heart sank. Of course he doesn’t remember me. Of course he doesn’t know who I am. She tried to push the bitter taste of disappointment down, but it was there, lingering on her tongue. What had she expected? He was a stranger, even if they shared the same blood.

Eris, however, seemed to notice the subtle shift in her posture. The protective nature of his presence grew more palpable, as if he could feel the discomfort radiating off her. His arm subtly shifted, wrapping around her waist to hold her a little tighter, a subtle warning to anyone watching.

Rhysand broke the silence, his sharp, commanding voice drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “I didn’t think Eristo be the type to pick out a female from Monteserre. A bit of a surprising choice, don’t you think?”

Y/N tried to steady herself, forcing her focus back onto the conversation at hand, trying to ignore the way her pulse raced in her ears, the way her hands felt clammy despite the elegance of her movements. “I suppose it’s a bit surprising,” she replied, doing her best to keep her tone light. “But perhaps I’m more interesting than I appear.”

Eris’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak right away. He simply shot Rhysand a glance—cool, calculating—and then muttered, “You’re one to talk, Rhysand. The night is still young.”

A sharp chuckle rippled through Rhysand, but it was a low, dangerous sound. “Fair enough,” he said, leaning back slightly as his eyes flicked between Eris and Y/N. His eyes, dark and knowing, pierced right through her, making her feel both seen and exposed. “It’s always the quiet ones who surprise us.”

Before the air could grow any thicker, Feyre stepped in, offering a warm smile to Y/N. “Well, I’m so glad you could join us, Amira. You’ll have to tell me about Monteserre sometime. I’d love to hear what it’s like.”

Nesta, her presence like ice and fire wrapped together, also spoke, her voice soft but carrying a bite. “I’m sure you have many stories to share. It’s not every day we meet someone from a court like yours.”

Y/N nodded politely, trying to hide the discomfort that bubbled beneath the surface. Cassian gave her a simple smile, his eyes flicking to her and back to Rhysand, as though gauging her reaction to everything happening around her. His smile was brief, but it was genuine—and for a moment, it calmed her nerves.

Then, Azriel.

Azriel looked at her again, but this time, she didn’t feel like it was a casual glance. There was something there, a flicker of something she couldn’t quite grasp, but it was gone before she could make sense of it. He offered her a barely perceptible nod, the movement almost too small to catch.

And that was it.

Y/N’s heart twisted painfully in her chest. She had been foolish to think there could be anything more. He didn’t even know who she was. What did she expect? For him to remember the sister he never knew existed?

She swallowed thickly, trying to regain control of her emotions. The room felt stifling. The weight of it all pressed down on her chest, suffocating her. The air was too thick with tension, with questions, with her own tangled thoughts. She couldn’t breathe.

Without another word, her resolve shattered. Her hand tightened around Eris’s arm, and in a split second, she was moving.

“I… Excuse me,” she muttered, her voice barely audible even to herself. Before anyone could respond, she turned on her heel and hurried out of the room, her pulse hammering in her ears, her breath ragged in her chest.

She couldn’t stay. Not like this. Not with him here.

YN’s breathing was ragged as she dashed through the darkened royal gardens, the cold night air biting at her skin. She didn’t care. Her mind was in a frenzy, her thoughts crashing into one another in an endless loop. What had she expected from Azriel? He didn’t even know who she was.

What the hell was she doing, coming here? Why had she even thought—

Her feet pounded the ground, desperate, frantic. She didn’t care where she was going, didn’t care about the twisting paths of the maze she was now running through. The walls of hedges loomed on either side, sharp and untouchable, their dark green leaves rustling as she flew past. She was too lost in herself to notice the beauty of the place, to even acknowledge the fragrance of the flowers that filled the air. Nothing mattered except the overwhelming ache in her chest.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been running when she stumbled upon the center of the maze. The sudden opening was a breath of fresh air, and she slowed, her hand on her chest as she tried to steady her erratic breathing.

A grand fountain stood before her, its waters spilling from sculpted stone into a pool below, the sound of the water soothing in the quiet night. The statues surrounding it were magnificent—stone figures with graceful, flowing forms, frozen mid-motion. The moon hung high in the sky, casting its silver light down on the scene, making everything seem otherworldly. She could feel herself being drawn into the beauty of the place, the soft glow of the moonlight making the fountain shimmer as if it were alive.

She walked toward it slowly, her eyes wide with wonder. The cool mist of the water brushed against her skin, and for the first time that night, she let out a deep breath. She knelt at the edge of the fountain, her fingers brushing the surface of the water. Her thoughts, though still in turmoil, began to slow. She closed her eyes, feeling the serenity of the moment seep into her bones.

Why did he have to look at her like that? Why did he have to make her feel so... exposed? She could still feel Azriel’s gaze on her, sharp and cold, and it made her feel like she was drowning. How could she stand in front of him and pretend that everything was fine when every part of her was screaming in confusion?

"Are you going to stay lost in thought forever, or should I drag you back to the ball?"

The voice cut through the night like a whip, and her head snapped around. Eris stood at the edge of the maze, his figure a shadow against the moonlight. His tone was light, mocking, but there was something deeper in his gaze.

She narrowed her eyes. "Even in this maze, you managed to find me."

A sly smile curled at the corners of his mouth as he approached. "Well, for some reason, your scent is the one I smell the best. I wouldn’t call it that hard."

Her breath caught in her throat. "My scent?"

Eris moved closer, not quite sitting but lowering himself so his face was level with hers. "Why did you leave so abruptly?" he whispered, his voice low, his usual bravado replaced with a note of curiosity.

She shook her head, turning back toward the fountain. "It’s of no importance."

But Eris’s hand shot out, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. His eyes darkened, his expression fierce. "When it comes to you, nothing is ever not important." He growled, his grip tightening slightly as he leaned in. "You may not be willing to tell me your reasons now, and I won’t pry. But you best believe me, Y/N. Something is upsetting you, and I will find out what it is soon enough." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "And when I do... let’s just hope the Mother takes mercy upon whoever it is."

A shiver ran down her spine, but she pushed against him, standing abruptly. "No one, Eris. No fucking one." Her voice shook with anger, but she couldn’t stop it. "You don’t have to pretend here either! We’re alone, for fuck’s sake!"

Eris followed her, his footsteps purposeful, his voice low but laced with anger. "You think you can run from me? You think you can push me away?"

She spun around to face him, their bodies inches apart now. "You don’t get it," she said through clenched teeth. "You don’t know what it’s like to be stuck in this... this mess!"

His expression hardened, but his voice was quieter now, tinged with something more genuine. "You think you’re the only one who feels like they’re drowning? That you’re the only one who’s lost?"

(I suggesting playing this song now while reading the next scene)

The tension between them thickened, but it was the crack in his voice that made her pause. She sighed, dropping her shoulders, the fight draining out of her. "I don’t want to go back," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Eris’s smirk returned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well, then fuck the ball and fuck the guests." He gripped her arm, pulling her toward the fountain. "Come on."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What are you doing?" she gasped, half-laughing in surprise.

Before she could protest further, he jumped into the fountain, splashing water everywhere. She let out a sharp gasp, the cool liquid soaking her instantly. "Eris!" she yelled, but the laughter bubbling up inside her was unstoppable.

"Get in here!" he called, his voice low but full of amusement.

"No, no!" she protested, trying to step back, but he pulled her in anyway. Water splashed around them as she struggled in his grasp, but the sound of her laughter rang out, real and unrestrained, as the cold water soaked through her clothes.

The night had taken a strange turn, and for the first time in hours, Y/N let herself forget everything but the chaos and joy of the moment.

he water rippled around them, and for a few seconds, neither of them moved. Y/N was breathless, laughing as she wiped the water from her face, her soaked clothes clinging to her skin. The soft moonlight made the entire fountain glow, the mist rising up and catching the glow like sparkling dust.

"You think you can escape me?" Eris’s voice broke through the laughter, deep and teasing as he made his way toward her, slow and calculated.

Y/N quickly scrambled to swim away, her feet kicking up water as she tried to gain some distance. "You’re seriously going to make me regret this, aren’t you?" she shot back, splashing water at him playfully.

His rich laugh rang out, filling the empty space with its low, intoxicating sound. "Oh, I plan to, princess. You’re not getting away that easily."

The chase was on. She darted in a half-swim, half-dash towards the edge of the fountain, hoping to pull herself out, but Eris was too quick. He moved with effortless grace, the water barely making a sound as he closed in.

"I think I’m about to get some revenge, hmm?" He called, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"Revenge?" she laughed, her eyes flicking up to the moon, her breath quick as she tried to swim faster. "You should be lucky I’m even letting you play like this."

"Play?" He swam behind her now, his voice a breath in her ear. "You mean, I’m just your entertainment?"

Y/N shot him a mock glare over her shoulder. "You’re lucky I even bother with you."

In that moment, she felt his hands grip her waist, pulling her back toward him with a soft growl. She gasped in surprise, her heart racing from the sheer electricity of his touch. She tried to pull away again, but he was too fast. He spun her around in the water, and before she could even think, his hands found her waist again. "Not so fast," he growled, his voice low and amused.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she fought to get free, but the water only made it harder to gain any ground. She splashed at him in retaliation, sending waves of water over his head. "If you want to play rough, I’m all in," she warned, grinning through the misty spray.

"You should’ve known," Eris muttered with a smirk. "I always play rough."

She let out a squeal of surprise as he yanked her back, his laughter mingling with hers, filling the night air. The water splashed around them, as they moved in a chaotic circle, fighting and splashing, neither one willing to let the other get away.

Y/N found herself nearly slipping, but she caught her balance just as Eris lunged at her again, his hands quick and strong as they grabbed her waist. She was already laughing so hard she could barely breathe. "You’re not going to let me go, are you?" she teased, her voice breathless from laughter.

"You bet your ass I’m not," he shot back, pulling her against him with a force that nearly knocked the air from her lungs.

With a burst of energy, Y/N used her other hand to push him away, her fingers slipping against his wet skin. She twisted her body in the water, trying to make him lose his footing, but Eris was faster. He grabbed her by the waist and spun her around, throwing her off balance.

She spluttered, her heart pounding in her chest. "You really are a menace," she grumbled, but she was laughing through the words.

"A menace?" Eris raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with amusement. "Sweetheart, I’m just having fun."

Before she could respond, he shoved her back into the water, his fingers tickling her sides as she went under, sending a jolt of laughter through her chest. She came up gasping, sputtering out water as she tried to catch her breath, shaking her head in mock annoyance.

"That’s it," she said, grinning widely. "You’re going down."

Y/N lunged for him, hands outstretched, but Eris sidestepped at the last moment, laughing as he danced out of her reach. "Nice try, princess," he teased, his voice deep and confident. "You’re not getting me that easily."

She scowled playfully. "You’re too fast," she muttered, but her eyes were bright with excitement. "Just wait—"

Without warning, she threw herself at him again, but this time she was prepared. As she dove forward, she grabbed him by the shoulders, twisting his body with surprising strength and sending them both tumbling into the fountain’s deeper water.

As Y/N splashed water at him, laughing as Eris wiped his face dramatically, he narrowed his eyes, a playful glint in them.

"Really?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock disbelief. "This is how you want to play? You're playing dirty now."

Y/N smirked, leaning back, her arms crossed. "You started it," she teased. "Besides, you look like you could use a good splash of reality."

"Reality?" Eris snorted, shaking his head in amusement. "I’m already dealing with you—I don’t need any more reality right now."

"Oh, please," she shot back, ducking to avoid his next move. "You're just mad because I’m winning."

His eyes lit up, mischievous and wild. "Oh, I wouldn’t say winning just yet, princess," he quipped, lunging forward to grab her again.

She yelped, barely staying one step ahead. "You think you can catch me? You'll need more than that." She grinned, gliding out of reach again, barely resisting the urge to tease him further.

Eris’s grin widened, a wicked laugh escaping his lips. "Oh, I’ve got all the time in the world to catch you. And when I do, you’ll regret this."

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with challenge. "Bring it on, pretty boy. I’m just getting started."

Water splashed high into the air as they both struggled to regain their footing, but Y/N had managed to trap Eris momentarily, holding him beneath the water for just a second too long. When he finally broke the surface, his hair was dripping, and his face was flushed with the thrill of their fight.

"You think you can drown me?" Eris grinned, water dripping from his lips as he reached for her again.

"No," she said, but before he could grab her, she splashed a massive wave of water right into his face. He recoiled in mock horror, wiping the water away. "I was just trying to cool you off."

Eris chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing. "You’re going to pay for that," he warned, his voice low with amusement, and the playfulness in his gaze was suddenly replaced by something far more intense. He launched himself at her with a burst of speed, knocking her backward into the water once again.

Y/N yelped, but the moment she hit the water, she grabbed his arms and twisted, trying to force him into the fountain’s stone edge. He laughed at her efforts, easily reversing their positions, and before she knew it, he had her pinned against the stone wall of the fountain.

"Now, now," Eris whispered, his breath against her ear as she struggled beneath him. "You’re getting a bit too excited."

She tried to squirm out of his grasp, her hands pushing against his chest. "I’m just trying to keep up," she teased, but she couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up inside her as he didn’t give an inch.

"Oh, I know," Eris said, leaning closer, his lips hovering just above her ear. "But you’re going to have to do more than that if you want to get free."

Y/N laughed again, a light and airy sound. "You know," she started, "you’re lucky I’m having fun. Otherwise, I’d be much more of a problem."

"Ah," Eris said with a slow grin, "so you admit I’m winning?"

Her gaze softened for a moment, and with that soft smile, Y/N tilted her head back and leaned against the stone wall. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a soft glow around them. For a moment, everything slowed.

"Not quite," she whispered, but before she could react, Eris's hand slid around her waist, pulling her close. Their bodies were pressed against each other, their faces inches apart. She could feel the heat radiating off him, and in that moment, the playful banter slipped away.

Her breath hitched as she stared into his eyes. For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. Their bodies were still tangled together in the water, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to make sense of what had shifted between them.

Eris’s fingers tightened on her waist, his breath heavy and slow. There was something in the way he held her, the way his eyes darkened as he stared at her, that made her pulse quicken. She could hear the water dripping from his hair, his chest rising and falling just as quickly as hers. His voice was low when he spoke again, his words barely audible over the sound of the water.

"You’re not going anywhere for now, princess."

Her heart skipped in her chest. "What if I don’t want to?" The words came out in a whisper, but they felt like a challenge.

His lips parted slightly, his gaze lowering to her mouth as his grip tightened around her waist. The playful tension of moments before was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous, more magnetic.

"You don’t want to leave," Eris murmured, his voice thick with something she couldn’t quite place. "But you will, eventually."

Y/N’s heart raced as the electric current between them surged again. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts, but the moment his lips brushed against hers—slow and deliberate—her entire world went quiet.

She should pull away. She should stop this. But her hands, of their own accord, slid up his chest and gripped the back of his neck, pulling him closer. This wasn’t just a fight anymore. This wasn’t just water splashing and teasing banter. This was something else entirely.

Eris growled, the sound rumbling in his chest, and before she could second guess herself, his lips were on hers, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was anything but lighthearted. It was heated, fierce, raw—a kiss that told her everything about what had been building between them.

For a brief moment, she thought about pulling away. Thought about the consequences, about the repercussions.

But all she could feel was him. And that thought was so fleeting, it barely lasted a second.

Then, as his hands moved to her shoulders, pulling her closer, and her own hands tangled in his hair, she realized that whatever this was, she wasn’t stopping it. Not now. Not when every part of her wanted this as much as he did.

And as they pressed together in the water, bodies slick with liquid, she knew that this moment would change everything.

But for now, she didn’t care. Not when his lips were on hers, and his arms were around her, holding her tight, refusing to let go.

This was reckless.

And she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

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