#Lucien protected elain from what exactly?

[elainsgirl]

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Five

Summary - After an intense meeting at the boarder, Eris and Lucien return home tight lipped and unwilling to ruin the night, and you discover something you thought was impossible.

Warnings - angst, fluff, Rhys being a grade A prick, our favourite found family back at it again, drinking, mentions of sex, some Eris background, Lucien being a meddler, a little trip down memory lane

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

HAPPY 600! 🥳

Be careful.

Eris would ensure he was. For you, he would contain his fiery rage, he would conform himself to the mask he had to wear around those from the Night Court. He would do anything to make sure he returned home to you.

Part of him was glad that Lucien had coaxed him away the moment he had secured you inside Fir Manor in the arms of Nesta and Elain, if he saw those rounded eyes of worry, he was sure that he may not have been able to walk away from you.

Sweat coated his brow as his weight crunched at the leaves and fallen branches beneath his feet. Of course Rhys had chosen to meet where Autumn met Winter, Kallias cared little when the High Lord of the Night Court would prowl onto his lands, and Rhys wouldn't dare to stand in Summer or Spring after what he and his Inner Circle had done to both of those courts.

The air had turned cold and the ground frozen a few miles back, the cold shrill of Winter swarmed around Eris and Lucien, and they were glad that they had made the smart decision to shroud themselves in their fur lined coats for what was sure to be a frosty meeting indeed. Though, Eris was glad that he had chosen the Winter boarder to say his piece, it meant that he was as far as possible away from you.

They had winnowed most of the way, hounds in tow bar Willow who had refused him to stay with you, coiling up on the porch and watching her master disappear into the forest. Lucien had groaned when they had landed at the foot of a rather large hill lined with an array of snow-kissed trees, Eris had smirked at the sound but willed his brother onward.

"Promise me that you won't let him get under your skin." There was still an ocean full of unspoken words between the two brothers, ones that voiced Eris’ regret and longing, that voiced all of guilt and desire to make things right.

In a way, it was easier for him to convince Lucien of his true nature now that they had something in common bar their looks, it was the shared need to protect you, to let you grow into your own person and watch on as you drove down your own path.

Eris frowned softly, he couldn't exactly blame Lucien for thinking that such a thing was possible, he hadn't exactly played the role of a loving brother or male in general. "I won't, Lucien. There is nothing he could say or offer to make me even consider it." That being handing you back over to the Night Court.

It wasn't something that he needed to say, neither of them wanted to even think about it as they continued upward.

"I know that you have no reason to trust anything I say after everything I've done to you," Lucien fell to Eris' side and glanced sidelong at him, not knowing what was coming next, "But I hope you can believe me when I say that I won't let any harm come to her. I have abided by every decision she has made, all I wish for is her happiness. I want her to grow and build her own life. All I can do is gently nudge her in the direction she is hesitant to follow, but I would never make her do anything she didn't wish to."

There was a pause, a comfortable silence as Lucien came to a certain realisation and grinned, "You feel something for her, don't you?" Eris felt the heat rise to his cheeks, the cold of the air making the redness more prominent on them, Lucien laughed, "I knew it from the moment you fought me to sit next to her at that dinner," his smile faltered and he stopped walking, he examined his brother, the one whose entire façade faltered the moment he noticed that you were around, "After everything that's happened, y/n deserves a chance to find her own passions away from the influence of anyone."

"I know that-"

"I wasn't finished," Lucien rolled his eyes and continued the ascent, passing Eris who trailed him by a step, "Despite everything, I do believe that she's better off here, with you. It's like you see her like how Nesta, Elain and I do but in a slightly different way, you see her in the way she deserves to be seen, in the most candid and gentle way possible," Lucien looked to Eris with understanding, "She deserves that, to be seen and understood and listened to, to be involved in every conversation, to be able to show everyone who she really is.”

The conversation died at the exact moment when the Vanserra brothers reached the apex of the mound, spotting the three Illyrians through the break in the trees that coiled around their figures, as if in warning to stay far far away.

The mask.

Right.

Rolling his shoulders, Eris was ashamed to drown his soul in the brutal essence which he often forced himself into, and he never wanted you to see just how bad it could be. Whisps of his breath floated from his lips, curling upward and freezing in the air.

"Thank you for waiting. Lucien couldn't keep up," the namesake scoffed in response as the pair approached the boarder, thanking the Mother of that intact shimmer which told them that the wards very much still up, and very strong. Eris folded his arms over his chest, finding the nearest tree and leaning on its rough bark before drawling, "You got me here, Rhys. Better start talking."

It was clear that Rhys was on the brink of losing his sanity, his eyes were cold and distant, more onyx than their usual violet hue, his wings were furled around his sides, and Lucien nor Eris could tell if he meant them to be intimidating. He appeared to them dishevelled, messy black hair, a certain paleness to his skin, an unhinged glare in his eye.

"I appreciate you taking the time to meet with us," he motioned to Azriel and Cassian, the latter of which looked more broken than Lucien had ever seen him, no doubt reeling in the loss of his mate, "I hope we don't keep you for long."

"Tell me what you want, Rhys. I don't have time for pleasantries," Eris plucked an invisible thread from the stitching of his coat and looked toward the High Lord.

The fake politeness was doing little to convince Eris of anything other than that Rhys surely was the most manipulative male he had ever come across, he stole that crown right from Beron's decaying corpse.

Resisting a snarl, Rhys exhaled deeply, unclenching his fists as he began a perfectly practiced speech, "My sister is not quite herself at the moment, I fear that she has made the wrong decision in residing in your court, her mental state has always been rather brittle," he took a step toward the boarder, his toes kissing the edge of that shimmering glare, "Give her back to us so that I can ensure that she receives the proper care."

"If y/n desires to return to the Night Court then she can, I'm not stopping her from doing whatever she wishes," Eris replied flatly, completely unphased to the words that were making his blood boil in his veins, did Rhys really have the gall to suggest that you were insane?

Azriel spoke then, realising that there was no realm of possibility where Eris would willingly give you back, "You stole her from the Day Court. Some would call it war-inducing."

There it was, the threat, Eris smiled, "Is that what you want? Another war?"

"I will do whatever is necessary to ensure her safe return to her home court."

Lucien moved to Eris' side, his muscles contracting with anger, "The Night Court is no longer her home," his voice was stoic and unnerving, his gaze daggered between the three Illyrians, "Eris did not steal her, she decided with her own strength to walk away from you, and she is already better for it."

Then, Rhys grinned, his power rattling against the wards around the Autumn Court, "I think you'll find, Lucien, that y/n belongs to me, she is property of the Night Court, her blood is a powerful tool that we can use to solidify our line. Since she is unmated, with no claim to her hand, it does mean that as long as she breathes, she is mine."

The words were a statement, and Rhys' voice did not falter. It was an old tradition, one marred in hatred and sadness. You were the daughter of a High Lord, and when he died, the archaic responsibility of marrying you into a suitable line fell to Rhys.

"I do suggest that you hand her over, I would hate to decimate your court, Eris. Especially when you've been working so hard to rectify the tyranny of your father," Rhys' hand drifted over his heart in mock sympathy.

There was no way in Hel that Eris would ever do such a thing, and he knew that there was no easy way for Rhys to willingly wage war on another court after what Prythian had only begun fully recovering from.

It was risky, but he couldn't let Rhys think he had him pinned to the frozen dirt like a snow fox to a bunny, "Rally your armies then, Rhysand, because there's no reality that exists where I would ever hand her over to you," then a feline smirk consumed his face, he ran his hand through his hair of fire and struck hard, "It seems to me that you only wish for her return so that no one learns what she is capable of. I intend to let her find out, and perhaps when the others realise too, of her story and what you've done, we may have High Queen on our hands."

Darkness exploded from him, his arms elongated into talons, his wings grew and creaked at the stretch like leather, he roared, an inhuman sound that sent shivers prickling down Eris and Lucien's spines; and even Azriel and Cassian had to step back with wide eyes at the sight of it.

Bingo.

With a graceful bow, Eris turned on his heels, beckoning his growling hounds whose hackles had raised to the skies, "I wish you a safe journey home, Rhysand. Send Feyre our collective regards," he called over his shoulder, not even flinching at the roar that flew threw the air.

They had what they wanted, the reason for Rhys' insistence, he knew that you had the power within you to be granted the highest honour of their world, and he had worked his entire existence to stop that from happening.

If Rhys wanted a war, then that's what he would get. Eris would rain hellfire over Prythian, and he knew for a fact that you would stand beside him smiling the entire time.

Eris and Lucien couldn't have been more relieved to be back at Fir Manor, the warmth of the estate shook their frozen bones back to life and they bristled off the jagged edges left by the words exchanged with Rhys.

Stones clunked together under their feet, but a hand on his arm stopped Eris moving to the house that was glowing with the essence of you. Golden light emitted from the windows and kissed the cobbled path before it, and girlish laughter drifted from the open windows along with the most divine smell.

"Before we go back in, I have to ask you something," Eris tensed and turned to his brother, his hair was unbound down the back of his fur coat, his mechanical eye surveyed him inquisitively, "Did you mean what you said back there? You'd go to war for her?"

Eris could had scoffed at the question, he removed his arm from his brothers grip and turned to the manor, smiling at the sight of you, Nesta, and Elain all dancing before the window, the neck of a wine bottle in your fingers and a sweet melody falling from your lips. Elain was cradling Willow in her arms who looked thrilled to be involved whilst Nesta had her own arms wound around your waist.

"Would you go to war for Elain?"

"Without question."

The sound of Eris' message being received was enough, but he spoke, "I have a feeling it won't come to that though. Call it a hunch."

Lucien hummed, not quite sure of what Eris meant, but followed after him as he paced down the path and up the porch steps, flinging the door open and grinning at your startled state as you fumbled to hide the wine bottle behind your back, "You're back," you whispered to him, the strap of your form fitting green dress falling over your shoulder which you didn't move to lift as you gazed at him.

His face was prickled with cold, his cheeks flush from walking into the heated manor from the wild winter winds; Eris shrugged off his coat and lay the garment over the arm of one of the armchairs of the seating area, pulling his sleeves up to expose his forearms, "I'm back."

"I'm here too, just in case anyone wanted to know," Lucien all but rolled his eyes at you as he passed, pressing his lips to Elain's forehead who fell into his embrace with Willow still firmly swaddled to her body, "Who's been cooking? I could smell it from outside," he delved deeper into the house despite Elain's scolding telling him that dinner wasn't ready yet.

Nesta followed the pair with a groan, taking the bottle of wine from behind your back and muttering something about saving the meal from Lucien's paws, leaving you and Eris alone.

Fiddling with your fingers, you took a step toward him, noticing a strand of his hair fall over his face and watching as his fingers moved to rake it back, such a thigh-clenching thing to witness. "How was it?"

"It was fine," his eyes still held a cold glare to them, one that was waning the longer it was fixated upon you, "We got what we needed."

"Which was?”

The nerves radiating from you were making even Eris feel nervous, he tiled his head to the side and took a step closer to you, his hands at his sides, "Not worthy enough to talk of now. Let's have tonight as a newly formed found family, and tomorrow, we can talk. I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Another step forward was taken by you, the hem of your dress swaying at the motion. You were so close to him that he could feel your warmth seep into his bones, so close that his cold breath made your own cheeks flush red.

It felt natural, to close the gap and fling your arms around him, to bury your face into his chest and deeply inhale his scent like you needed that to know that he had come back to you. There was a single beat where Eris just stood there frozen to the ground, but he slowly ran his fingers up your sides until one of them rested around your waist and the other cradled the back of your head, his nose rested atop of you, his lips ghosting at your hairline.

"I was worried," you admitted, squeezing him closer, thinking that if you didn't tell him that then he would think you weren't appreciative of the position he was now in.

Eris chuckled, it was low and rough, swirls of fire danced around your figures and his thumb rubbed small circles into the back of your neck, "You can't be rid of me that easily, Fawn."

The scampering of steps made you pull back from him, and he yearned to hold you again without a care about who would see and what they would say. Lucien entered the room once more holding a beautifully decorated cupcake in his hand, a raised brow on his face and fighting a smirk once he noted your closeness, "These cakes are amazing, y/n."

"Thank you, Lucien," you swayed back and forth on the balls of your feet, your eyes drowsy with drunkenness.

"I sent for dinner for your three, why are you cooking?" Eris asked, confused, only a fool would turn down food from the Autumn Court chefs.

Nesta shrugged, plopping herself down on one of the deep rooted chairs, licking her fingers free from icing, "Elain sent them away, says she can do better."

"Which you're now all ruining thanks to her cakes," Elain's hands were on her hips and she pointed to you, her apron was coated in flour, her hair was strewn up and messy, and it was clear that she was busy cooking before you and Nesta had pulled her from the kitchen to dance, "They are rather lovely, y/n. You should be thrilled."

Eris' heart fluttered as you turned to him, a hopeful glint in your eye, "Would you like to try one? I think you'd like them," he couldn't speak, he couldn't find the words really.

The firelight made you look ethereal, the golden flames danced in the glistening pools in your eyes, so pristine that he could see himself in them, "I'm afraid that I don't have much of a sweet tooth," your smile faltered, "I'm sorry."

The gaze he felt on his face was enough to make him warm the blood in warning to its owner, Lucien coughed, red faced and watering eyes and you turned to him with worry before he strained the words, "Sorry, crumb," a lie.

"Okay," you whistled, not at all noticing the silent daggers drifting between the two Vanserra brothers, which was odd considering how observant you usually were, perhaps it was the wine floating to your head.

Maybe you were letting your guard down and didn't feel the need to be watching everyone anymore.

Eris watched you retreat into the kitchen with Elain, waiting until you were out of view before he readied himself for Lucien, "I cannot remember a time when you denied yourself a dessert."

"Things change."

"Not with you they don't," Lucien stared after his mate, his eyes full of love and desire, full of possibility and thoughts of the future.

When the news had spread of Lucien and Elain's mating, Eris was truly happy for them, out of everyone he knew his brother was the one most deserving of that happiness, of that type of love. Eris couldn't say the same for himself, he didn't think he deserved any light after the things he had done, after the atrocities he had inflicted over the course of his existence. Having a mate was something he could never allow himself to dream of, everything he touched turned to ask, his fire and mask too cold to allow anyone close enough.

Eris had depleted his worth, he never let anyone touch him, he would cower from it like a wounded animal. Even when he laid with the courtesans, their time together was restricted to just sex, no kissing, no holding one another, just unsatisfying sex that made him bathe in self-loathing whilst his partner relished in the feeling of being fucked by fire.

There was always a part of him that felt unworthy, his father had gone as far to tell him so, multiple times. Every touch sent him spiralling into memories, ones of mutilation and marring, but when you had touched him, when you had wrapped your arms around him and held him close, he didn't feel the need to shrink away or unwind you from his body. All he wanted to do was keep you there forever, and that, that was something remarkable on its own.

You may have been Prythian's darkest secret, but he found you to be the only thing worth fighting for.

His salvation.

It wasn't long after dinner that you had disappeared from view.

It didn't take Eris long to embark on his search from you, excusing himself from the table that had long since gone quiet without your teasing stories of your upbringing and playdates with the High Lord beside you.

Eris didn't think that you would remember your visits to Autumn when you were a child, thinking that you were too young to retain the memories that he had held onto tightly. You were such an innocent little thing back then, and he remembered his wonderment when you had seen the orange ring in your eyes, displaying his own fire to compare the two and enjoying the sound of your giggles far too much.

He was sure that there was talk of a union between the two of you, he remembered the hushed whispers and beaming smiles of pride as both sets of parents gazed at the two of you playing in the corner with Lucien and Rhys adjacent. Though, neither of your brothers could steal your attention away from the other.

It was what he had held onto all of those years apart, in the moment when the light began to dim and the abuse began to accelerate, in the times when he wondered where you had gone. There were gaps in his mind, like memories had been stolen and locked elsewhere because he couldn't truly remember the last time he had seen you before the time he had caught a glimpse of your wingless figure wandering the halls Under The Mountain.

Eris wandered down the halls of the manor, following your scent that clung to the walls, absentmindedly pondering where exactly he would place a portrait of you in the vast home.

The sound of gentle whimpers entered his earshot and he stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the side to listen harder. He knew that the whimpers were coming from you, they weren't scared ones, but ones of pain, and his heart raced in his chest at the mere thought of you being in any form of pain under his roof.

Knocking softly on the door to your room, his old room, the grandest chamber in the entire manor, he waited patiently and listened to the shuffle of your feet and the soft padding of your companion before the door opened to reveal your strained features and a certain hound peeking around the wood, "You left."

Turning from him, you winced, leaving the door open enough for him to let himself inside, "I get these knots under my scars, it feels like I'm being stabbed, and I just need a minute when it starts."

Eris had heard of it, of the pain residing in the bones and muscles of clipped Illyrian females, sometimes so severe that they believe a new pair are pushing their way through the marred crescent moon scars, and breaking a little when they realised that it wasn't the case.

"It's been happening more recently, I think it might be stress related," you huffed out a laugh. It wouldn't be surprising, you had gone through enough to have permanent knots twisting at your shoulders, "Mor or Azriel usually tend to them," your voice was full of longing as you perched on the edge of the chaise lounge before the roaring fireplace. Willow had hopped up onto the plush piece of furniture, spinning in three circles before settling her head into your lap. Eris made a note to scold her for that later.

The tattoo on your arm shone in the golden embers, swirls of shadow and fire intertwining and dancing around your bicep, "I can help."

"Eris," you winced softly as you turned your head to him, "I couldn't ask you to do that, you've done so much already."

"You're not asking," he moved behind you, his fingers hovering over the sheer fabric of your dress that was transparent enough for him to see the muscle contorting under your skin, "If all I can give you is some relief, then I will."

A moment passed as you thought about it, but you nodded, giving him permission to unlace the strings holding the back of your dress together and pull the straps over your shoulders.

Eris' fingers were warm against your skin, you sucked in a breath at the contact, you felt fire spread across your surface as his gently wound his fingers into your flesh, "I want to try something." When you said nothing, he took it as a sign of agreement, he allowed his fire to flow into his fingertips, the heat of them unwinding the knot in your muscles instantly, withering the demon under your skin into the abyss, "Better?"

"Much," you glanced over your shoulder, "Thank you," your eyes were dazed and you smiled at him, your own fingers running down the space between Willow's eyes and down her long nose.

A question had been poking at him the moment he had seen it, the tattoo that glowed in the light, the one that when you looked at it for a moment too long seemed to dance, "That tattoo. It was a bargain?"

A solemn nod, "Yes," you confirmed, "Between Azriel and I," you gazed into the fire and sighed, but you didn't move away from Eris when he took the seat beside you, "We promised that we would always look after one another, that we would never feel harm at the other's hand."

You smiled sadly, "Azriel and I weren't so different, we were both raised by people who didn't particularly want us, burdened with a power we didn't understand. I think we understood one another in a way no one else could, we knew what we needed and when, we basically knew each other better than we knew ourselves," your voice trailed off, "At least, I thought we did," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you blinked hard to rid your vision of their blurry infliction.

Eris watched you shudder, the loneliness and betrayal worming its way into your soul like you had realised the gravity of it all.

Shuffling closer, Eris' thigh brushed against your own, his fingers millimetres away from yours and he gave into his desire to touch you as his index finger curled around your little one. A simple action to show that he understood, and more a singular moment, you let your guard down, the walls tumbled and you felt his power wash over you, kissing your own and sewing together the brittle remnants of your essence.

The room shifted, the world tilted, and you felt a sensation you had never felt before. Looking down, you found black flames licking up your fingers, they danced up your arms and across your connected digits to curl around Eris.

Neither of you moved, you both simply gazed at it, his fire and your darkness moulding together to create a wonderous crackle of flame that didn't burn either of you. It was softly calling out, and you raised your entwined fingers to inspect it carefully.

It was meant to be terrifying, but the personification of your darkness felt more childlike than anything, it was excited and new, and it nestled itself onto both of your limbs.

"I've never seen anything like this before," Eris held your palm atop of his own, his fingers smoothing over your pulse as his eyes found you, examining your face, namely your eyes where the fire in them burnt brightly.

Eris should have cowered away from you, but he loved your touch more than anything, and no matter how fleeting it may be, he would bathe in it for as long as he possibly could. "Neither have I," you tilted your head, realisation was littered on you, "But I've read about it. It's called Carranam, I think." The look in your enlightened eyes told him of the rarity of such a thing.

"You really are a clever little thing, aren't you?"

A sidelong glance and smirk later, you drawled, "You don't even know the half of it, High Lord."

Author's Note

Here she is!!!

Hope you love this and are going just as feral as me right now 🫶🏻

Taglist

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[fantaxzia]

Elain went first into the cauldron, she handled that darkness and came out with gifts from that entity (an entity which is corrupted and mean spirited). Yes, she was traumatized, anyone would be, but she overcame that setback and is trying to build a life in the NC for herself (helping others too).

And GAs/anties/ELs think that she cannot handle Azriel's darkness? What darkness are we even refering to? She's super comfortable with him, spends quiet hours with him, be it day or the dead of night, shares her plans with, exchanges gifts with him, openly shows her desire for him.

Azriel has self worth issues, anger towards a certain section of society, trauma from his tragic childhood. That's not darkness. His behaviour isn't violent towards others (he uses violence where it's needed, like war and interrogation of the attor, not because he desires it), he's very careful with his outward actions and reactions, and he's super protective of those he loves. He drinks his respect women juice thoroughly.

If trauma is darkness, then Elain has it too.

How can one argue that she cannot handle a dude who has trauma like her?

And how can they turn around and say that Gwyn can handle his 'darkness'? Is she not carrying her own trauma as well? If anything, her trauma is more complex and needs a gentler recovery path than others'. There's a reason she still doesn't venture out of the library. Getting through the blood right wasn't exactly a healing experience, it was a survival experience. (Az may help her get through it as a future friend, along with others, but that's another conversation.)

The point is that this argument that Elain can't handle Az but Gwyn can is really ridiculous. Azriel is not some rabid animal or loose canon, needing someone with special capabilities to handle him.

He may have his own issues to overcome, but so does everyone else in the series. It doesn't make him unsuitable for a healthy relationship with someone he wants.

Lucien has his own set traumas, but I never see it termed as 'darkness'. Why are we comparing them with different yardsticks? If anything, Lucien is often a loose canon with his words but Azriel is measured with his words.

If Elain wasn't capable of handling one, she would not be capable of handling the other. Infantilizing her to argue for one ship and against the other, comparing different characters' trauma as darkness, etc., makes the argument invalid.

If Elain cannot handle Azriel's 'darkness' then neither can Gwyn. If Elain can handle Lucien's 'darkness' then she can Azriel's too. There is no argument here, only shoehorning of personal ship interests presented as arguments.

[mcuamerica]

The Lake | Eris x Reader

For Eris Week 2024 - Day 5: War | Adventure @erisweekofficial

Summary: The war with Koschei gives Eris and you an adventure you weren't expecting.

Warnings: 18+, suggestive sexual content, canon level violence, not well-proof read (let me know if I forgot anything!)

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears for Eris Week.

It wasn’t exactly easy convincing Rhys to let you spend your time with Eris. You may have eased the worry that Eris was going to hurt you, but that didn’t mean he trusted the male. And he certainly didn’t want you marrying or mating him. Not yet. Not with Beron’s sadistic mind still around. 

But you could spend time with Eris now. And after he helped win the war with Hybern… let’s just say Rhys was more inclined to leave you alone with him. 

When Koschei came about… when he took Elain and Lucien begged Eris for help, you were the one who offered to go with. Because you loved Elain like a sister, like all the Archeron’s. And for Lucien… for the male who helped save your life… you would help his mate. 

Eris needed to help his little brother. Needed to ensure that even if he couldn’t erase the past, maybe he could aid in the present. For Lucien’s future. 

Here you were, Eris and you trekking through some human land where Koschei should have been. You should have found him days ago. Found the lake. But nothing was around. 

“If we don’t find anything by tomorrow… we might have to go back.” You said, finally giving up and sitting down on a rock. “We’ve been at this for days and we haven’t found a thing.” 

“Don’t give up so easily, darling.” He said and knelt down in front of you. “Maybe we need a little… adventure.” He said and stood up, smirking slightly. 

You looked up when he held a hand out. “What would you call what we’re in right now?” You asked. 

“War… but war doesn’t have to be all bleak. And while we look for Elain… maybe we keep have a little fun.” He said. 

“Elain could be suffering-“ you had been thinking as much for the past few days. Lucien was on some curse bound to the Night Court, of course set on by Koschei. The rest of the night court was finding ways to find Elain. And you… for whatever reason whenever Koschei was about to attack… you could sense it. As if your power came from the same darkness he possessed. Eris was there as an anchor for you. To ground you. Ensure your safety. Because even knowing the rest of your family would protect you… no one would do it as fiercely as your mate. Even if it wasn’t official yet. 

“Hey, we’ve been looking. Let’s just… I think there’s something down here. Maybe it’s good. Maybe it’s bad.” He said and shrugged, taking your hand and tugging you down a path. 

You picked up running water and as you rounded a corner full of trees, you found a small lake with a beautiful waterfall. “How can something so beautiful be near something so terrible?” You asked. 

“You’re next to me, I think that speaks for itself.” He said. 

You looked up at him and frowned. “Eris Vanserra… you are not terrible.” You said and cupped his cheek. “You’re the most kind… handsome… amazing male I’ve ever met. And that includes all other High Lords.” You said. 

“I think you’re obligated to say that, you’re my mate.” He said and smirked. 

“Well I mean it.” You said and leaned up, kissing his cheek. “Now what about that adventure?” You asked. 

Eris stared into your eyes for a few more moments. “Hmm… how about I get to see you out of these leathers?” He said, his hands trailing to the buttons on your jacket. “It’s way too hot. And if we’re having an adventure…”

You smirked. “Only if you get to take this off too.” You said and tugged on his tunic. 

His answering smirk only heated your core. “To the water we go, my love.” He whispered and nipped at your neck before pulled away. You watched as he completely stripped, leaving nothing for your mind to imagine as he strutted into the water. Your eyes lingered on his ass, lip between your teeth as he submerged. 

He came out a moment later, dripping in water. His hair was wet and stuck to his head, which struck something deep in your core. 

“Are you coming, darling?” He asked, his large biceps flexing as he leaned against the raised earth. 

With that, you stripped off your top. “Anything you want, High Lord.” He said and smirked, watching as you walked towards him and stripped your clothes. 

“You are magnificent.” He whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. 

You hummed as you walked over to the lake, slipping in the water so your hair didn’t get wet. “Am I?” You teased and swam over to him, smiling when his hands landed on your waist. 

You could feel the wet earth on your toes, sinking just slightly before Eris picked you up. You squealed, laughing as you wrapped your legs around him. You could feel his hard length pressing against your core as you tangled your fingers with his hair. “Why don’t you show me how magnificent I really am?” You whispered, nipping his ear. 

Just as he was about to, you felt him tighten his grip on you, sinking deeper into the water. “What is it?” You asked. 

“This isn’t a normal lake.” He muttered. Before you could inquire further, he hoisted you into the earth. “Run.” 

You watched as he was sucked under water, a yell coming from your lips. “Eris!” 

Your eyes widened as the air became cold, your naked body being drained of all the heat. And with Eris potentially drowning… 

Like hell you were going to run. He was your mate. He may have the intrinsic need to protect you but you have the need to protect him too. So, without even trying to grab your leathers, you dived into the water. 

Black murky water devoured him. It was almost as if he was stuck in the mud itself. He held his breath, knowing he couldn’t keep it up for long.

There was a faint yelling he couldn’t hear. How long has he been down here? He hoped you got out. 

The pulling started. He felt as if the water-mud around him was sucking him dry, even though he was under water. These damn lakes in the human lands. Unless this is Koschei… it can’t be. Eris was shown the lake by Rhys. Who saw it from Vassa. This wasn’t it. 

Unless Koschei changed the appearance to lure you in. Considering how powerful you both were… he might just want to trap you as well. He hoped you ran. 

The water wasn’t clear as you swam through it. You made sure to steer clear of the mud, searching for Eris. Anything at all to let you know that he was still here. You didn’t see his fire bright hair. Or anything to indicate he was here.

You held in screech when you felt something grab your ankle. When you looked back, you couldn’t see anything. But you felt like you were being dragged further. You shot out your magic, but whatever grabbed you didn’t react. If anything, it took your magic. Grew stronger. As soon as you realized it, you stopped. You didn’t have your weapons. They were on shore with the rest of your clothes. How stupid were you both to go into a strange lake without anything on? 

You continued to hold your breath, glad that you had enough capacity as the creature pulled you further down. Were you in the mud? Were you still in the water? You couldn’t tell. But as soon as you tried to take a breath, you saw a light. You kicked the creature off and swam towards the light, gasping for air. 

The land you found was not the same. But a land that had a cabin just on the other side of it. You took a deep breath again, knowing you found Koschei. You looked around, finding Eris’s red hair pop out of the water. You let out a quiet sob as you swam towards him. “You’re okay.” You said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I am… and we found Koschei.” He said. You nodded and looked around. “I can get clothes from the pocket realm. But we need to get out of this lake.” You whispered, then swam to the shore. If Koschei was here or not, he didn’t let on. You got out, mind fully gone of lust as you went towards the wood. You didn’t feel any wards pull at your magic, so you pulled the clothes you held in the pocket realm for this reason. You slipped them on and then tossed a few to Eris. “They’re Cassian’s… he never knows how to hide them.” You said. 

Eris cringed as he put them on. You noticed how the slightly sagged on his body but still fit. Cassian was a large male… and Eris definitely had the same strength if not more, but his build was different. “If you say I look hot in these clothes…” he growled. 

You let out a small giggle, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t even think it.” You said. Honestly, it was a miracle that you even had a sense of humor at all. But… being around Eris did that to you. 

“We need a plan.” You said. “Our magic might make him stronger.” 

“I don’t suppose you have any weapons in the pocket realm?” He asked, sighing when you shook your head. 

He saw the spark in your eye the second the thought reached your mind. His eyes narrowed just as you said, “You’re not going to like this idea…”

Eris walked along the forest edge of the lake, watching as you dove back into the water, swimming straight for the cabin at the other side. Your idea was insane. Maybe genius… but insane. He was fighting every instinct in his body to go after you and pull you away. He knew you could protect yourself. At least for a moment while he got away with Elain. And you. 

He watched a male… creature… walk out of the cabin door, calling to you. His hair was white, his eyes black. Eris knew it was Koschei. And you did too as your head perked up. You used your magic to dry yourself as you swam out of the lake, feigning innocence. Eris walked towards the back of the cabin, knowing the male was distracted by you - the female - too much to notice as Eris AND you probed at the wards, taking them down one by one. 

He walked in the back of the cabin, finding Elain in a room not far from the door. Her clothes were in tatters, but he knew her mind was clear. 

“You should not have come.” She said, standing up. “He will know. He will kill you.” She said. 

“Elain, we need to go.” 

“This is my war to fight.” She said firmly. “Not yours, not my mates, and not (Y/N)’s. You both need to go.” She said. “I have a plan.” 

“Tell it to me now because we aren’t leaving without you.” 

A sense of fear struck him the moment she opened her mouth. The bond… why couldn’t he feel the bond? 

“That would be because I took it away, fox,” a low, gravel-like voice said. It was like sand paper and nails on stone combined. Horrible, ancient. How had Elain stood this? “You won’t be getting to see your mate for a long long time.” He said and smirked. 

Eris turned towards him, shaking with rage. If he so much as laid a hand on you- “What did you do to her?” He asked. He’d worry about that missing piece of him. That hole in his chest later. He needed to see you. Where you were. Bond or not, you were his mate. The one thing in this world that truly made him happy. 

“Oh, she’s in the darkness where she belongs. Where her magic will be mine forever.” He said and smirked. “So much as she stays alive.. Which I plan on making sure of. Such pretty creatures that come from your land… Elain.. (Y/N).. It’s too bad I’m stuck here.” 

Elain had gone quiet and Eris knew well enough to not look at her. If she had a plan, she had to do it now. “And the magic from your lands… the sweet magic.” He smirked. “I can’t wait to see what I can take from a future High Lord, as you like to call yourself. What will I do-” 

His eyes, dark as the night without the moon or stars, turned white. “What are you doing?” He let out a rasp, hand immediately reaching for Elain. She sidestepped him, an uncharacteristic smirk dawning her lips. 

“You will never take from females- or anyone, ever again.” She said and took a deep breath. Eris finally turned to look at her. The eyes she shared with Feyre, white as well. She was somehow in his mind. “Not his mind,” Elain corrected. “I’m in his soul… You see, I found it yesterday. In this little box. And my magic called to it, told me to destroy it. I’m a seer… and I saw all that you’ve done. And I also saw exactly how to kill you. Release everyone from your grasp.” Elain stepped up, a dagger- Lucien’s dagger at her side. “This box really is pretty, too bad I have to destroy it.” She said, placing it on the table. All around her white power glowed, radiation off of her skin, her torn clothes. “Goodbye, Koschei,” she finally said, stabbing the box. 

Eris blocked his eyes as the creature ignited a light brighter than anything he had ever seen before. “What-” 

And just as quick as it happened, he was gone. And the bond… he could feel it again. But it was distant. 

Elain held onto the table and he went to grab her. “I’m fine… go find (Y/N)... Koschei… many of those trapped are going to come out. We need to get her out of here.” 

It was a different kind of darkness, the hole he put you in. Or… whatever it was. You were used to darkness. Your powers craved it most of the time. But this was different. It was void of all life… hope… anything to give you some semblance of reality. You may have only been in there for a few minutes but it felt like days. 

Your magic was being drained from you, every second it would replenish and then be pulled out. Painfully. And the bond with Eris that you tried to tug on to give you some hope… it was gone. You couldn’t feel it. A part of you thought you died. Maybe Koschei killed you and this is what the outcome was. This is what death- what fading truly was like. A miserable darkness that was void of all light and goodness. But then you saw it. That bright, fire red hair. 

Your eyes adjusted as a door opened above you. All the light streamed in and a gasp left your breath. “Eris!” You yelled, taking his hand. He pulled you up right into his arms. 

“Oh thank the Mother.” He whispered. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

You sobbed as you buried your head in his chest. “I want to marry you.” You whispered. 

His head pulled away from yours, cupping your cheeks. “What did you say?” He asked. 

“I want to marry you. I want to mate you. I need- I need this to be official. To be strong.” You answered. “I can’t go another second without being your mate.” 

Tears lined Eris’s eyes. “I will marry you, and mate you, and make you my High Lady whenever you want, my love.” He whispered, kissing your brow. “Let’s get back to your family first.” 

You took a shaky breath, holding onto him. “I’ll kill your father myself. We will be together.” You said. 

“Let’s focus on killing one big bad at a time, shall we?” Elain asked. 

You let out a squeal and looked towards her. “Elain! Thank the Mother you’re okay.” You said and hugged her. “You saved me. You saved everyone. You’re amazing.” You said. 

“I’d like to go home… and speak to my family before we get that far.” She said, a small blush creeping up her cheeks. 

You nodded and smiled, taking Eris’s hand. “Will you do the honor?” You asked him. 

He winked at you. “Of course.” 

“Remind me to never follow you on an adventure.” You teased, Eris’s loud, bright laugh echoing in your ears as he returned you all to the Night Court.

A/N: honestly this is kind of all over the place but I still like it lol

[acourtofthought]

Tamlin was the first one to try to stop the King of Hybern during the cauldron scene. Does that undermine what Lucien did?  Lucien thought Elain was in danger in the Night Court but he told Tamlin to “get her back” instead of trying to save Elain himself. Yet Sarah notes that this behavior is that of “a mate already going wild to defend what was his.” Lucien only left the Spring Court when Feyre was already leaving and he had to leave anyways for his safety. Does that undermine his actions? Mor was the first to offer to go search for Vassa. Does that undermine what Lucien did? Unlike Cassian, Azriel didn’t offer to go after the Valkyries at all when they were taken to the blood rite, even though this happens after the bonus chapter. He only said that they needed to get Eris. Does this mean he doesn't care?

No because Tamlin's actions were focused on the king while Lucien's were focused on Elain.

Even as recent as SF we know Tamlin is in love with Feyre therefore it's logical to assume that anything he does is about her. Protecting her, helping her, etc. Tamlin trying to stop the King doesn't have anything to do with Elain specifically so much as Tamlin trying to stop the Kings madness overall because this wasn't what he agreed to (something verified when he says "this is not part of our deal"). A deal which was made in order to break Feyre's bargain with Rhys and get her back.

But Lucien? He tried to step towards Elain before she was put in. Someone he broke free of the kings shackles for, someone who was then revealed as his mate. Lucien paid no attention to Nesta as she was put into the Cauldron, he was more interested in picking up Elain and holding her in his arms so she didn't have more of the Cauldron dumped onto her.

How can anything Lucien did for Elain be undermined when he had never even met her? They were complete strangers yet his instinct wasn't to stop the King but go to her.

This is Rhys after his bond snapped, after suspecting he had a bond with Feyre for months:

No, I don't think Lucien's actions, the "get her back" moment, means his bond with Elain should undermined. He was completely blindsided by the snapping of his bond. If Rhys nearly stole Feyre away but only managed to avoid it by winnowing then I think Lucien being out of his head and having no idea what he was doing or saying can be forgiven. How often do we see Lucien panting and snarling? He's usually quite controlled so it's clear he was a bit out of his mind. Also.... how exactly would Lucien be able to get her back from a High Lord in that moment? "Lucien should have gotten her back himself!". Except Rhys sent Mor in to Spring to retrieve Feyre, right? He didn't even go get his own mate so it's not really as simple as everyone claims.

No, Lucien leaving with Feyre after Spring's downfall doesn't undermine his own actions because Lucien wanted to get Elain back long before that:

End of ACOMAF:

Start of ACOWAR:

People need to remember Lucien is not yet a HL and definitely did not have the power to go against the most powerful HL of Prythian history at the beginning of ACOWAR.

Lucien isn't stupid. Getting himself killed trying to get Elain isn't going to help Elain therefore it was necessary for him to form a plan, not just storm the gates. He knew Feyre was playing him but he knew he had to play the game.

However he was ready to get Elain long before the Spring Court fell, it was just Feyre was finally done playing the game at that point which meant he could then demand his answers.

If another male had been the first to suggest going after Vassa than it might undermine Lucien's actions a bit more but girl power is a theme in Sarah's novels, just as much as the romance. However we also need to remember Lucien is not an Inner Circle member. He doesn't get to order the IC around and tell them how they should be operating, what soldiers they should be sending out, that he should be the one to handle the information accordingly. He rightly gave them time to work through the information as it was presented to the NC since he was only a guest, then spoke up. But either way, he was the only male who fought for her vision.

He was also clearly stunned by everything that had just been revealed:

What happens to Elain also affects Lucien and I think people forget that. Just like her depression caused him actual devestation. I think people need to give the guy a few moments to process the information since she's literally the other half of his soul, whether they accept the bond or not.

Once again, people forget a mated male struggles to react rationally.

In SF, Az was not a mated male. Even if he has a bond with Gwyn he's got no clue, just like Rowan didn't seem affected by Aelin's multiple near death experiences at first. Because of this Az was able to logic that entering the Rite meant her death. I don't think Az would have cared about his own safety but when the laws clearly state she would die too, that it would guarantee her death and he at this point in time was level headed enough to remember that in the way a newly mated male could not, I think it makes sense why he wasn't overcome by emotion to the point it would risk her life.

But Az showing zero concern for Elain when Elain was put into the Cauldron? Az being second to Cassian in offering Elain a dagger? Az not believing in Elain's ability to handle the Trove? Az not feeling Elain's vision was worth pursuing? Az putting Elain's life at risk for both Feyre and Briar simply because he wanted to be the hero who could do it all? Az avoiding Elain at her lowest and only looking into her riddles after Feyre asked it of him? Az looking at Mor with lust while Elain sat in the room with them? Az never giving her credit for her bravery during the war? These things do undermine the supposed feelings he has for her.

[nikethestatue]

Elain's Necklace

A reimagining of how Elain's necklace came to be and was made. Azriel's POV.

Today's short fic for my Elain Archeron Week. Enjoy!

The vision of what he wanted the gift to look like came to him in a dream.

Azriel, the shadowsinger and spymaster of Night Court was not a very good sleeper. On good nights, he suffered from nightmares. On bad nights, he didn’t sleep at all. But after Elain and Nesta Archeron were Made by the Cauldron and turned Fae, Azriel came to have another nocturnal option–dreams. That was almost surprising to him–a decent night’s sleep, and dreams. Not the kinds of dreams where he was being chased, where he was being hurt, or someone he loved were tortured, or his hands were burnt again, or Elain was tossed into the Cauldron…First. 

She was thrown in first. And he didn’t know if she’d ever re-emerge. He didn’t know if she was lost in the Void and would forever wander in the endless darkness with her soul lost and destroyed. He didn’t know what would come out either. If she’d survived, what would she be? Would she still be the kind, beautiful, contrite and helpful girl who liked flowers and pretty things? Or would she be remade into something ugly and angry and vengeful? Those were his most common nightmares–reliving Elain being dragged into the Cauldron. The endless minutes, which felt like centuries, waiting to see what would come out. If it would still be Elain. If she would be alive at all. He was barely alive himself, but he remembered vividly how she was spewed out of the ancient malevolent pot. Almost naked, her nightgown offering no coverage or protection, pale and crying. The guards laughed at her. Jeered to her nakedness. He tracked them all down, one by one, and murdered them. He wasn’t quick about it, and he wasn’t kind either. It was not a swift death for any of them.

The nice dreams that he usually had–they were connected to Elain as well. Somewhere, in the back of his consciousness, he was pleased that she was Made. Not ‘pleased’ exactly, because the stripping of her humanity was traumatic and he didn’t like her living though that. However, in some selfish, animalistic way, where he was nothing but a beast who wanted to breed his female, Azriel was glad that Elain was Made. Because that allowed him the hope that maybe, somehow, somewhere, there was a chance for him with her. Even despite her bond with Lucien. Despite everything, Azriel felt that he had a chance with her now. 

In the dream, her throat was bare. Long pale neck. Vulnerable, exposed throat. Protruding collarbones. A desperate, overwhelming need rose inside of him to bite her. Sink his teeth into the creamy skin and press. Press until she bruised. Until there was a mark on her neck, telling the world that she was his. He’d do it too–he’d mark her. And once there was a bruise, he’d magic a tattoo over it. He wouldn’t ask her for permission. He’d just do it. Because she’d be his and he could do what he needed to her. 

The dream was simple enough. Elain sat in the garden, at the wrought iron table that she favoured. Her hair was unbound. She didn’t look entirely Fae–she was a mix of human and Fae, a perfect blend of soft and smooth, unyielding and determined, sweet and stoic. He liked it. He liked the image of her. She was surrounded by roses of every hue, even though Azriel knew for certain that she preferred peonies. But it seemed to him that he was the only person who was aware of that. Somehow, she came to be associated with roses. He didn’t mind it–a large, fluffy rose with convoluted petal arrangements and a lovely colour was exactly what Elain was. A thorny mystery disguised as a beautiful rose. Let’s just say that he considered himself lucky, because he wasn’t on the receiving end of Elain’s dislike and lack of acceptance, unlike Lucien. The poor bastard. If Azriel didn’t want Lucien’s woman for himself, he would’ve felt bad. The gentle flower girl definitely showed her thorns when it came to her hapless mate. It made Azriel smirk to himself. Be careful what you wish for and all…

In the dream, her long neck stood out somehow. It was bare. No mark of any kind. No mark of possession. Nothing to show the world that she belonged to Azriel.

When he woke up, the image was clear in his head.

All the roses in the dream–every shade and colour–had a place in his design. Swinging his legs out of the bed, he rushed to his desk in his study, wearing nothing but his undershorts. He didn’t care. The good thing was that his unique set of powers allowed him to do things that others couldn’t. For example, he could start a fire with a flick of his fingers. Which he did, because there was no time like the present, and he didn’t want to lose the idea for the necklace. 

He yearned to capture the essence of his girl in the gift that he decided just now that he was going to give her. He didn’t give her a gift last year. It was an omission on his part. She’d given him a gift. She was braver than he was. He turned around and looked through the doors that led to his bedroom. There it was–the vial of powder that she had given him. “Oh, it’s from me” was what she said that night. She’d thought about him and she went out of her way to create something special, something specifically for him. His sweet girl. She was always braver than all of them. Almost stupidly so. 

Elain didn’t make grand gestures and didn’t do things for the higher cause. She wasn’t like Nesta, who was driven by vengeance and anger, resentment and paint. She wasn’t like Feyre, who was willing to die for love. Feyre, who descended Under the Mountain as a human girl, driven by her misguided obsession with an undeserving male. Elain wasn’t like that. She didn’t rage, and she didn’t sacrifice needlessly. She did things because…

It took Azriel almost two years to figure this out. Because she puzzled him and he didn’t comprehend what drove her, if anything.

But at last, he understood. 

Elain did things for herself, for others, for the world because they were…right.

That’s all.

It was the simplest of truths about her. She did things because they were right. As if she somehow considered all other options, and then decided that it was best to do the right thing. 

She didn’t kill the King because she wanted to save Prythian. Because she wanted to end the war. Because she wanted to be viewed as a hero and the redeemer of their world. No. She killed the king because she wanted to save her sister. Because killing him was the right thing to do under the circumstances. She went to beg Lord Nolan to save the humans and give them shelter in his fortified castle because it was the right thing to do. No one else gave a shit about the humans. They were disposable. Canon fodder. But it didn’t sit right with Elain. So she went and pleaded for their safety. 

She didn’t need to save Briar. Azriel still wondered if they should've done it. Unlike Elain, he was pragmatic. However, to Elain, it was the right thing to do, and so, he grabbed the human girl, even to the detriment to Elain’s safety. Somehow, he also knew that if he didn’t, Elain would lose respect for him. And he couldn’t have that.

He spent about an hour sketching.

What seemed very clear in his mind, was in fact, very difficult to translate to parchment. He’d gone through seven sketches before he was finally satisfied. The setting needed to be just right. The colours. How the stained glass would reflect light when it hit the necklace just right. 

It would be lovely. A thing of beauty. 

And no one would know that it was from him. It would be their secret.

He didn’t bother taking a bath, but tugged on his britches, pulled in his boots, threw on a shirt and a jacket and quickly tied the stays around his wings. He’d hoped that both Nesta and Cassian were still asleep. 

Why in the world did he have to stay here?

He groaned internally. Because Rhys had asked him, and like an idiot, Azriel had agreed. 

Just supervise them a little, Rhys had said. It will be peaceful, Rhys had promised.

Right.

Instead of spending whatever little free time he had at his sprawling apartment in one of the wealthiest Velaris neighbourhoods, relaxing in his leather chair with a glass of whisky, watching the spectacular city views and thinking about Elain, he was forced to marinate in Nesta and Cassian’s scents and bodily fluids. 

Fuck his life. 

“Where are you off to this early in the morning?” Cassian was in fact, up. 

Azriel opted not to lie, but neither was he entirely forthcoming.

“Got to go and do some shopping.”

“Oh,” Cass nodded with understanding. “Get me something good, brother.”

“Jerky, is what you are getting,” Azriel promised.

“You wound me!” Cassian cried out in mock horror. “I thought we were brothers!”

“We are.”

Before Cassian could start asking what he’d be buying and for who, Azriel bid him farewell, went out on the terrace and plunged into the cold, crisp air of winter morning.

He flew fast, banking near the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

He knew exactly which shop and jeweller he wanted for this job. 

The shop was still closed, but Azriel knocked impatiently on the door, putting some strength into his knuckles.

Five minutes later, and the door flew open, the bald middle aged Fae red in the neck, hollering, ‘We are not open yet…ohhh…Lord Azriel.” Recognition shut him up at once.

Azriel smiled a sinister smile, indicating that he wasn’t pleased with the greeting or having been left waiting, but that he was in a charitable mood as well.

He opted not to correct the honorific.

“Please come in, Lord Azriel.”

He followed the male inside the shop, silent and terrifying, watching tiny beads of sweat pop all over the bald head.

“How may I be of service?” the male finally asked.

Azriel sat down without waiting to be offered a chair and fished out his sketch from his jacket.

“I need a Solstice gift made,” he said simply. 

“Oh well, it’s only three weeks away,” he male began prattling, but Azriel levelled him with a look and asked calmly, “will it be a problem?”

“No, my lord, not at all!”

“This is the sketch of what I want.”

The jeweller took the sketch and inspected it closely.

“The chain–gold, thin, but put a strengthening spell on it, so it does not break,” Azriel instructed. “The inlay should be gold as well. Each facet should be a different gem–I am thinking ruby, emerald, sapphire, amethyst, and a pink diamond.”

The male nodded, no doubt calculating how much this would cost and what he could charge for the final product.

“Is this doable?” Azriel inquired.

“Yes, of course, my lord. This would be a very special necklace indeed.”

“Now, one more thing,” Azriel lay his arm on the display case and said, “chip off a tiny sliver of my syphon,”

At that, the man’s eyes flew open in shock. 

“But…”

“I know. I am aware. I am giving a bit of my power away. It’s alright. Do it now. I want the chip to be in the centre of the rose.”

The male swallowed hard, but went to fetch his instruments. When he stooped over Azriel’s arm and touched the syphon, he pulled his fingers back, as if it burnt him.

“Oh, by the gods! It’s…”

“Potent,” Azriel supplied. “Pure magic.”

“And you are willing to part with it?” the man asked again.

“I said yes. Don’t ask me again,” Azriel warned and the man nodded.

As he began to slice off a bit of the stone, the male whispered,

“She must be very special…”

Azriel pursed his lips, but couldn’t help himself and said, “she is”.

“A betrothed? A mate? A,”

“Future wife,” he said simply. “It’s a gift for my future wife”.

-

Solstice Night

…Azriel pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her.  

Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around. 

The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colours would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. 

“It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?" 

[lovemyromance]

I will always find it funny when people try to say "Azriel wasn't showing interest in Elain, he was just doing his job"

Aside from the fact that other than being "Spymaster of the Night Court", we don't really know what Azriel's responsibilities entail. It's not like we got a job description and his resume handed to us 🤡🤡

All we can do is infer based upon what his duties in canon text have been thus far:

Spying on the human queens

Fighting in ACOWAR with the NC

Keeping an eye on a few people across different courts / helping their allies

Gather information through his "spy network" / shadows

Dealing with threats to the NC (ex: Bryce, Briyallyn)

Interrogating for information (? Not even sure if this was actually stated in the books, or if we all just assumed)

Training priestesses with Cassian

That's all we know! His job is somewhat related to spying, and gathering information to keep the NC safe.

Nowhere in that limited set of responsibilities do we see:

Spend time with Elain

Buy Elain a solstice gift

Protect Elain, specifically

Rescue Elain from Hybern

Kiss Elain

Lose sleep over Elain

Beg on his knees for a taste of Elain

Wait for Elain to be seated before allowing everyone to eat dinner

Give Elain his most prized possession (TT) to defend herself with

So, unless we are categorizing all those things under "Gather intel on Elain" because he thinks she's some kind of threat to the NC (lmaooo), then he's not just interacting with Elain because it's his "job". He is Spymaster of the Night Court. Not Elain's personal air tag, or therapist, or primary caretaker.

In fact, even though his job DOES include spying on others, he blatantly refuses to do it in ACOFAS when Azriel tells Rhys that he does not want to watch Lucien.

Why doesn't he want to watch over Lucien?

Rhys literally tells us: "To know when and if Lucien sought her out. What they did together."

Can someone please just tell me why Azriel would shirk his job of intel gathering to avoid learning what Elain & Lucien do together? Why would he care unless he had feelings for Elain? He has no problem spying on anyone else, even other members of the IC.

At the end of the day, we don't have much info on what exactly his responsibilities include, other than what we have seen. And I don't believe anything Elain-related falls under the NC Spymaster's job description 🤷🏻‍♀️

[litnerdwrites]

The IC have a terrible track record...

Every notice how the NC are bad at keeping their promises, specifically to Nesta and Elain?

They promised in the human lands that if they helped facilitate a meeting with the mortal queens, no harm would come to them, yet they were stolen from their beds and hurled into the cauldron.

They promised no harm would come to them in Velaris, yet both Nesta and Feyre were attacked in the library.

They promised to protect them (again), giving them a safe place to heal during the war, yet Morrigan verbally accosted at every opportunity a traumatised Nesta, and they decided to take them to the war camps too, where Elain was abducted.

They promised the Mortal Queens' heads in exchange for Nesta's help during the war, yet, by ACOSF, they're still alive.

They promised that if Elain didn't want the mating bond with Lucien, they would protect and support her in it, but they, if anything, push Lucien on her.

Cassian promised Nesta time, and proceeded to forget about her after the war, and only spoke to her to insult her.

They promised that Nesta would always have a choice, yet ACOSF happened (need I say more?).

I get how some of these aren't really their fault, since they couldn't have known about what the mortal queens would do, that The King of Hybern would manage to infiltrate the library or that the cauldron could take Elain. However, you also can't blame anyone, much less Nesta, for not trusting or even liking them since they don't exactly have a great track record. Then they have the audacity to act as if she owes them something.

[separatist-apologist]

Hey MB<3 I just keep rereading your fics over and over and they hit everytime (like seriously they itch every scratch in my brain), but just wondering, do u have any elucien fics on your tbr rn, or recent ones that you recommend? I'm mostly looking for canon compliant bc that is crack to me but im not too picky, just looking for recs!

I ANSWERED THE WRONG ASK god kill me right now

You're so sweet. Sorry it took me so long to write this- I wanted to put together a good mix. I hope you like them- these are just one's I've read, there are more on @elucienweekofficials list of multi-chapter fics set in canon, too!

This is long so I put it beneath a cut. I tried to mix on-going fics with completed fics and not recommend the same ones I always do. If anyone finds this list helpful, be better than me and leave a review

I Believe The Word You're Looking For Is Friends by @kingofsummer93

Elain Archeron and Lucien Vanserra are haunted by ghosts of their past, unable to move forward, unsure where they belong.

Together they come to an agreement. He'll teach her everything he knows about Prythian. He'll take her anywhere she wants to go.

In return, maybe she can just stop slapping him so much.

All You Have Is Your Fire by @clockwork-ashes

'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Elain goes to the Autumn Court demanding an audience with the High Lord to save the mate she can barely stand to be in the same room with. She ends up having to stay much longer than she bargained for.

What If I Told You I'm Back by climbingmountains

Come one, come all, it's happening again…Elain and Azriel have been married for ten years. Koschei is defeated, their family is at peace. And if she feels a hollow ache of something every once in a while, that’s just the price one pays for love and duty.

Until she comes home one day to the news that her husband has a mating bond of his own.

OR: I listened to nothing but The Tortured Poets Department for over a month and had a lot of angst to release.

Mockingbird by @avabrynne

After Lucien reluctantly agrees to meet with Eris, he’s shocked when his brother reveals his biggest secret: he has eight-year-old twin daughters. Unwilling to entrust them to anyone else and with Beron's gaze on him more intense than ever, Eris has Lucien swear to protect the girls and take them with him.

When it becomes clear they can’t stay in the human lands even when glamoured to look human, Lucien turns to the Night Court. While it’s easier to handle outbursts of young magic there, Lucien needs help. Enter Elain, who bonded quickly with the twins after their arrival. On top of everything else, Lucien and Elain start to navigate their bond while also finding out a few more secrets, like who Lucien’s actual father is. It's an Autumn and Day Court family drama Elucien and ErisxOC fic!

ACOWAR (Eluciens edition) by @crazy-ache

One moment. All it takes is one singular moment to change the trajectory of fate. Following the events of Hybern, everything changes when Lucien instinctively grabs his mate—Elain Archeron—and brings her back to the Spring Court with Feyre and Tamlin.

In the midst of war and ruin, Elain and Lucien will have to face the bond that connects them together if they hope to survive the unintended consequences. To do so, they’ll have to prevail through games of deceit, powerful forces of magic, and deadly enemies. And hope their hearts survive the journey.

A retelling of A Court of Wings and Ruin (ACOWAR) and a Canon Divergent AU.

A Court of Ash and Sunlight by aturner1205

“I know you’d rather not get help from me. I know you’ve rejected our mating bond and I’ve accepted that. But I still want to make sure you’re safe.”

Her heart twisted in its cage, filling her whole body with icy tears that would not spill.

Tell him. He deserves to know the truth. Tell him.

And because this time the voice inside was hers, because it was strong and clear and right, she did.

“I haven’t rejected the mating bond with you, Lucien,” she said quietly, her chest pounding so loud she could hardly hear the words. “But I think I damaged it, because—because I’ve never felt it.”

The Scenic Route by @bonecarversbestie

Elain grows discontent with her role in the Night Court as she grapples with grief for her human life and powers that she does not fully understand. One evening she accidentally winnows to Lucien's doorstep and he agrees to take her back to Velaris via the scenic route.

Can I Be Close To You by @temperedink

Elain and Lucien have been feeling out their tentative new relationship for a while, and Elain is getting antsy about the slow pace she's set for them. But maybe it's time to take things to the next level.

Set a few years post-ACOSF.

Oceans Apart (Never) by angryramen

Living in the Day-Court with her mate seemed like a damning at first. But slowly Elain started to enjoy Lucien’s company. They conversed together in the Day-Court gardens and slowly became friends. He even promised to charter a ship to take her to the continent, somewhere she’d always wanted to go. But when the time comes to say goodbye…

The Heirs of Fall and Flame by arosebetweenthorns

Eris Vanserra has always been a complicated male. Born as the first son to a tyrant of a High Lord, he was raised on cruelty, learning never to reveal weaknesses. But as Eris' allegiances to his father's court are questioned, his loyalties forming with those across borders, he realises enemies in his own court - especially his father - may be too difficult for him to keep at bay, especially when he inadvertently sets his father's sights onto his youngest brother. Then there's Rhysand's Inner Circle to contend with - one particular shadowsinger that Eris can't seem to avoid... but does he even want to? --- Lucien Vanserra always thought his suffering at the Autumn Court's hands was behind him. But when his father shows a vested interest in him years after banishing him, it's clear he will have to fight to keep the fragile peace he's built himself. All Lucien wants is to be with Elain and begin a life of his own, but when Elain's life is threatened by his father, Lucien learns just how much he has to learn before life can truly begin.

This is a direct continuation of the events of ACOSF. Joint POV of Eris and Lucien.

A Court of Breaking by @aldbooks

A year after the events of A Breaking, Elain feels a tug on the bond and realizes her estranged mate is in danger. Lucien, now returned to the Night Court, wonders if he might have been too hasty in his decision to leave, and if there might still be a chance for him with his mate

Summer Heat by @zenkindoflove

Lucien nodded his head, looking for any cue that he was dismissed. “Got it. Keep everyone in line and try not to make an ass of myself in front of my mate. I’ll see what I can do.”

Summer Court is hosting the Summer Solstice Summit and the Night Court is sending their best emissaries to attend. It will be Elain's first time mingling in another court, and it's a good thing she has an expert guiding her: the mate she's been ignoring for the last two years.

Meanwhile, Eris has been sent to the summit to spy on Summer's developments. What he doesn't anticipate is entangling in a steamy, forbidden romance.

Post-ACOSF, Elucien, Eris x OC, Multi-chapter.

Healer In The Night by @infinitefolklore

Lucien has been away on the continent on a mission. No one has heard from him in over two months. Elain is worried. On a dark and stromy night, he shows up bloody on her doorstep. Elain nurses him back to health.

The Luck Of The Draw by @sad-scarred-sassy

Elain Archeron is determined to end her unwanted mating bond with Lucien Vanserra. She has resigned herself to a loveless life, convinced she will never be able to experience true love without the fabricated weight of an assigned mate.

Her plans take a sharp turn when her mate arrives with a proposition to accompany him on a mission to a foreign court. When no one else believes her capable of succeeding Elain decides to prove to herself and others that she is not as hopeless as everyone else thought.

Only this will mean she will have to face him, and with that all that she has sworn off, battling between not knowing where the mating bond's influence ends and where her true feelings begin.

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3

Ancient Myths Retold Masterlist

Event Masterlist

Summary: Lost at sea for the last ten years, Lucien Vanserra, Heir to Day has been presumed dead by all but one. Clinging to that thread of gold and loyal until and beyond death, Elain knows every one of the gossiping fools and suitors cursing her doorstep are wrong. Even still, feeling their bond grow frailer each morning has taken it's toll.

Each night she can't help but fear that bond will at last be cleaved, and the wolves will close in for their prize—her hand in marriage.

~~~~~

AN: Happy Elucien Week! May I introduce my Odyssey AU this fine morning? Quotes above each chapter are lyrics from EPIC: The Musical, because honestly, that's what inspired this fic.

@elucienweekofficial Day 1: Fated

Though I never thought that it would come to this

Just know I'll be here buying you time

~Penelope, The Challenge

Chapter I: Buying You Time

The sun was high overhead when Elain sensed her younger sister and brother-in-law approaching. She had thought it would take her a long while to warm to the new High Lord of Night, but the clear adoration he held for her sister was proof enough for her that there was a good male behind the rumors circulating the seven courts.

“Elain!” Feyre called over the wind, shielding the infant in her arms from the worst of the early autumn chill. Elain was well guarded herself in a long-sleeved gown of rose pink, the breathable skirt just thick enough to ensure she stayed comfortable outdoors for any period of time.

“Feyre, I was beginning to wonder,” she murmured, careful of the child between them as her sister drew her into a loose embrace. Pulling back, she smiled. “It seems I’m not the only one suited to motherhood. You’re glowing.”

Feyre beamed, dropping her eyes to the dark-haired boy sleeping in her arms. “This is Nyx. I suppose I have to take the blame for our delay. I was nervous to travel with him so early.” She shook her head, as if her protective instincts were something outlandish.

“Shall we step into the house?” Elain offered. “I can call for refreshments while we catch up.”

The pair nodded, Rhys’ arm once again settling around Feyre’s waist, tucking her into his side and pressing a kiss to her brow. They were disgustingly happy, and Elain was thrilled to see her sister had found love. But that didn’t mean she could shut out the envy that had begun roiling inside of her. Wretched as it made her, she couldn’t wait for Rhysand to excuse himself, be it for business or leisure.

Rather than watch him help Feyre settle into the couch with the baby, Elain busied herself by calling for a tea service. Still, she couldn’t shut out the soft words exchanged between them—endearments and flirtation.

For a moment she let herself remember—embraced the phantom touch at her waist, the heat of her own mate at her back as she watched a summer sunrise from their balcony the morning after they accepted the bond. If she tried hard enough, she could almost pretend the woodsy scent in the room was something a little warmer, sweet as an autumn harvest.

Elain swallowed hard, steadying her trembling hands. She could not afford to lose herself in such a fantasy. Not with company present, and certainly not with the bond between them weakening day by day.

Shaking off the negative energy, she returned to her guests. “Have the nights been terrible? It took months for Kadeem to get his nights and days on track.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call them easy,” Feyre admitted. “But I’m sure that a few years from now we’ll be reminiscing through rose-colored glasses.”

Rhys shot his mate an incredulous look. Clearly the new father was not so optimistic about the newborn phase becoming a fond memory. “You’ll grow to miss those moments—the bonding only found in the dead of night. I know I do,” she confessed without thinking.

There was a tense pause, the three of them trying to navigate the dangerous waters they were approaching. “Would you like to hold him?” Feyre offered, her voice hesitant as if she didn’t know if the suggestion would make things better or worse.

Elain nodded, admittedly nervous about holding her nephew for the first time. He was as gorgeous as both his parents, sweet faced with those brilliant blue eyes staring up at her now that he’d finished his nap. It was dangerous, being so prone to baby fever when her mate was gods knew where, apparently unable to winnow or send word home.

“Why don’t you ladies enjoy your talk,” Rhys said at the same moment as the tea service arrived. “I’ll return in a few hours.” Pressing another kiss to Feyre’s forehead, he stood from the sofa, approaching Elain just long enough to run a hand over the ink-black fuzz his son had inherited from him. The nights may be draining, but it was obvious that Rhys was a family man above all else. It made her all the more pleased for her sister.

The door clicked shut softly and the girls were left with only each other, the soft clinking of spoons against porcelain the sole sound between them. “Will you tell me about him? Your life before he set sail?”

“Feyre—”

“You can’t keep sitting with this, Elain. I would never dream of suggesting you move on from him, having my own bond, but you have to see that bottling this up isn’t healthy.”

Unwilling to snap at her sister, she took a deep breath, letting the words wash over her. Feyre wasn’t wrong, when she thought it through. Nothing could be done at this point to reach out to Lucien and his crew, but letting herself crumble day by day wouldn’t help her or her son, either.

Sighing heavily, she set her tea down. “As you know, we met at the Solstice ball.”

~~~~~

~Twelve Years Ago~

The Summer Solstice ball Nostrus hosted was rumored to be extravagant, but Elain hadn’t quite grasped the intensity of the celebration until she was staring it in the face— it being an overzealous lord with a tendency to step on his dance partner’s toes, that is. She winced, nearly stumbling through the next turn. “Lady Elain, my apologies. I’m not myself tonight, and your beauty does little to help my focus.”

“It’s alright,” she soothed him, refraining from cringing at the poor attempt at flattery. He was hardly the first, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last. “But I did promise to mingle with others tonight as well.”

“As these things go. Very well.” She breathed a sigh of relief when the clumsy male finally left her on her own. Perhaps she could have a moment of peace at last. Despite her mother’s lectures and thinly veiled threats, the dessert table had been calling to her for hours, the ganache-coated treats a taunt left in the open.

”I won’t tattle if you sneak over for a plate.”

Elain froze as the new voice washed over her, rich and deep enough she could imagine it in the lull of a story or song. A warmth bloomed, not just a flush of embarrassment, caught eyeing the sweets nearby, but a kindling within her. The foreign thing only grew as a calloused hand slipped into her own, curling loosely before raising her hand to his lips. “Lady Elain, isn’t it?”

She nodded, mind barely processing his question as she worked to suppress the bundle of nerves building in her throat, tightening her diaphragm. “I—” She softly cleared her throat, trying to summon the mask she wore to court since her introduction to society. “That’s right. I don’t believe we’ve met in any official capacity, Lord…”

“Lucien Vanserra.” His slight smirk told her her shock at that must have shown. She should have recognized the Heir of Day the moment he entered the room. “But you can just call me Lucien. Now, will you honor me with a dance, my lady?”

She gave a slow nod, letting him lead her out to the floor, pointedly ignoring the familiar glint of ambition she knew she’d find in her mother’s eyes. A prince and future High Lord had drawn her into a waltz she could execute in her sleep. In her parents eyes a proposal wasn’t so much a matter of if, but when. And if that soul-deep kindling was what she thought it was, swelling with every measure that passed, her parents’ wish would be granted.

“So you know, Lucien, my mother and father will imagine this dance is a step towards courtship. My older sister and I have reached marriageable ages, and now, well, my debut is months behind me.”

He hummed, cocking his head slightly, eyes narrowing when his attention flew over her shoulder. “And what are your desires when it comes to courtship?”

Her laugh was lacking in sincerity, but he made no comment. “Don’t you know, Lucien? We ladies of station don’t have the luxury of indulgence and desire. I haven’t dared to dream since I was a child. Such is life.”

He frowned, shifting into a second dance with ease. “I’d like to change that, my lady.”

The title was becoming awkward, seeing as he had granted her his given name, but she said nothing of it. “Is that a proposition?”

That smirk returned, the curl of it as sly as a fox. “Would you like it to be one?”

That fluttering of nerves returned. “You can call me Elain, you know.”

And that seemed to be answer enough.

~~~~~

Taglist: @corcracrow // @goddess-aelin // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiyawhitethorn // @vulpes-fennec // @headcanonheadcase // @aldbooks // @panicatthenightcourt // @jennity-blogs // @thelovelymadone

It's been ages since I assessed my Elucien taglist, so if you want to be added or removed, don't be afraid to comment.

[sad-scarred-sassy]

So yesterday I saw one E/riel post (I have them filtered out but somehow that one slipped my ward) and it was about how Nesta somehow knows Azriel is “in love” with Elain because she tells him she knows why he doesn’t go near the fireplace in ACOSF.

When literally who is described to be near the fireplace?

Now. I know Azriel was actually referring to Elain and Lucien’s mating bond (and we will come back to that in a second) but Nesta doesn’t know that, she has no way of knowing he feels that way towards the bond. Not even his own brothers know until Rhys catches him having those horny thoughts about Elain and almost kissing her.

And Azriel never talks about Mor, thats why she says his secret, not because its actually a secret. But I know that even though Nesta may not be aware, I agree that this could be a wink at his bonus chapter that is set to happen that same night.

So I wanna thank the elriel creator for making me read this scene because I think it ties up with what I believe about Azriel’s problem with Lucien.

(And also, I love how Azriel says the flame 🔥 and we know he is referring to the bond between Elain and Lucien. Is this foreshadowing of what we will get with Elucien? I will bet 😙)

The “fire” is mentioned a lot here as being what he cannot stand. Azriel mentions it explicitly saying “My shadows don’t like the flames” and my mind was blown. This symbolism just screams to me as a foreshadow of how they may behave in the future, but it also confirms to me how the fire is representing Elain’s bond with Lucien, as we know this is what is actually keeping him away in this setting. But the bond is not exactly the problem, at least not the whole problem.

I believe Azriel’s problem with the Elucien bond comes from his insecurity around Lucien taking his “place”, its not about Elain at all.

He does not understand why his two brothers got their mates and “the third” did not naturally go to him. This in itself is separating him from Rhys and Cassian.

Azriel is feeling like he’s being replaced in his own home and even in his duties. Lucien is somehow fitting in with the IC (more than before at least) and Azriel is threatened.

What little we know about Az is that he needs to feel needed, his self worth comes from being the savior, the protector. We see this time and time again and it is worsened by how he sees Elain as someone to be protected all the time. We see him suddenly wanting to be the one who protects her when he notices Lucien worrying about her in ACOWAR and he shuts him off.

He is undeniably loyal to his duties and needs to feel seen as a useful member of his court as well. Lucien is in his eyes also taking that away from him by being their direct connection to the human lands and a big part of Prythian, playing the spymaster and emissary, bringing crucial information, something that once was entirely Azriel’s job.

And now he also goes along with his family. He’s even got what Az has always wanted, he was given his bond. So of course he is channeling this threat into his mating bond with Elain, the only thing Azriel still holds over Lucien.

I think all the clues are there, and the way Azriel’s whole focus is on the mating bond and not actually Elain.

He even thinks about how she gifted him two things and nothing to Lucien, to her mate. He doesn’t think about how it made him feel beyond the arrogance that he is the object of her affections and not her own mate.

He is using Elain as his last straw at validation, if Elain is choosing to give him gifts and not Lucien, then he hasn’t taken everything away from him, if she wants to kiss him instead of her mate, then he may be worthy still.

So, my point here can be summarized to this:

“My shadows dont like the flames so much”

Shadows = Himself.

Flames = Lucien.

This jealousy is actually his secret, not Elain, not Mor.

Yes, he is referring to the bond, but his problem is actually with Lucien. The symbols are there.

“the flame, the surprising dominance within it” - Cassian speaking about Lucien’s inner power.

Anyway I’m convinced Azriel is not in love with Elain, but he is threatened by the flaming hot red head with one eye and broad shoulders that happens to be her mate, and I can’t blame him.

[olenvasynyt]

I saw this post about how the other side treats Jurian like some sort of villain when Rhysand has committed far more atrocious acts. They treat the latter like a hero when the Jurian does less damning actions than Rhys. Your thoughts?

You seem like someone who has a good head on your shoulders and I would very much like to know your thoughts on this. thanks!

It’s funny when people hate on certain characters who are exactly like Rhys. Eris…Jurian…Tamlin tbh…The only difference is we are seeing them all from Feyre’s POV, and Feyre is very biased towards her mate vs those who are her “enemies”.

I think a lot of people who villainize Jurian bring up his comments about Elain in ACOWAR, and I think this is a perfect way to show the comparisons between what he did and what Rhys has done.

Jurian implied a few times in ACOMAF and ACOWAR that Elain is getting SAed by Illyrian males, and he says it to Lucien and Feyre’s face. Quotes:

Chapter 67 of ACOMAF:

Chapter 2 of ACOWAR:

But are these any more cruel than Rhys making comments about Lucien’s mother and Jesminda? Or going into Feyre’s head and voicing her sexual thoughts?

I would argue that they are more cruel, because Jurian is implying that others will be violent to Feyre and Lucien’s loved ones, while Rhysand is being violent himself. I should have to talk about UTM too.

And tbh I’m not damning Rhys for this, or Jurian. That would defeat the purpose tbh because both of them were playing as the bad guy. They were wearing a mask. And tbh ACOTAR Rhys with his evil mask was my favorite Rhys to read because it was just so interesting and I love a morally grey guy!

But why are we villainizing Jurian for doing the exact same thing Rhys did, and worshipping Rhys and excusing his actions at the same time?

“Oh but Rhysand was going into Feyre’s mind to taunt Tamlin! He twisted her broken arm because he’s playing as the bad guy!” And then when the topic turns to Jurian it’s “he’s a villain for saying the Illyrians would harm Elain!! It’s not true!”

Idk man…are we sure it’s not true? We have seen how SJM has written Illyrians, how they treat their own females. And maybe not Illyrians sure, but there’s also Kier’s Dark Bringers, which are implied to be even more cruel and violent. Jurian was a human general during the War and he fought with them both. And regardless of whether or not he believes he’s right or if he’s just goading Feyre and Lucien, he’s saying this because “he’s playing as the bad guy”. He’s playing as the mad man who says whatever and is goading people. But guess what? As we find out in a dramatic reveal, he is fighting against Hybern: he goes to the human lands and gets to Grayson and his father. He has sided with them this entire time, because of course he did.

I was trying to think of what else people damn Jurian for and I had to look up his whole history with Amarantha because I could not remember for the life of me

Oh? Jurian pretended to be an enemy’s lover to get information that was necessary to protect his people, his loved ones, and to get revenge against the enemy who had tortured him and did him and his people wrong? But he really hated the enemy the entire time and ended up destroying them? That sounds very familiar…

…wait! Didn’t Rhys do that with Amarantha UTM? And technically Feyre with Tamlin in ACOWAR?

We damn the morally grey who are not seen in a good light through Feyre’s eyes, but we excuse the morally grey that Feyre loves. The character bias has a lot of people in a chokehold!

Thank you for your ask! This was a very interesting topic to discuss.

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Four

Summary - The consequences of your defection to the Autumn Court become clear as you realise how deeply rooted the betrayal of your family lies within you.

Warnings - angst, self-doubt, trauma, depression, fluff

Part One Part Two Part Three

Nesta's toes curled uncomfortably.

Rhys was pacing before her and Lucien who was sunken into the seat beside her, Azriel and Cassian stood as still as stone to the side of Rhys' desk as he walked the length of the room behind it. Anger burned in his eyes, the violet orbs that Feyre loved so much now blazing with infantile fury at what he had lost.

The power pulsating around the High Lord was nothing compared to yours, but it was still uncomfortable to swim in; it was migraine-inducing, it made her eyes feel heavy and limbs weak, and she knew the power within him was teetering on the edge of unleashing.

Rhys, as calm as he was portraying, lay his palms flat against the table surface, staring Nesta and Lucien down, but neither of them relented, neither of them would dare falter in front of him, "Tell me where my sister is," his lips curled into a smile, a sadistic thing of psychotic beauty, his eyes were demanding, and Nesta stole a glance to Lucien whose fingers were ripping at the leather arms of the chair.

You had disappeared from Helion's birthday gathering, your scent floating away in the breeze, and you hadn't told a soul of where you were going. Rhys had assumed you were ashamed of yourself and had returned to Velaris, that he would be able to deal with you later. But when Eris' note had landed in Lucien's lap that evening, he had never felt such simmering relief.

There was history between Rhys and Lucien, they weren't exactly the best of friends, but they weren't enemies, Lucien dealt with him for Elain and Rhys delt with him for Feyre, but if he had it his way Lucien would cease to exist.

"Y/N," Lucien bit, to remind them that you were y/n, your own person, and not just known to be his sister and executioner, "Has denounced her place in the Night Court, she is residing elsewhere."

Azriel scoffed, his finger trailing along the sharp edge of Truthteller, "She can't denounce her place so easily."

"Well she has," Nesta smirked, her stare barrelling into Azriel whose pupils flared in response, "I suppose this is what happens when you raise a female to be nothing more than your dirty little secret."

Rhys bristled, "I would watch how you speak if I were you, Nesta."

Rolling her neck, Nesta drawled, "I think you forget how little I care for your opinions, Rhysand," Lucien hummed low in agreement, legs lax and open against the confinements of his seat, "It seems as though y/n finally realised what you've done all these years."

"And what's that?" Rhys challenged.

Nesta could have smacked that smirk from his lips, but she restrained herself from doing so. Unfortunate.

"Lie," Rhys' eyes darkened, "All you've done is lie to her. You had never hidden her to protect her from what happened to your mother and sister, you used it as an excuse so that no one would find out just how powerful she is. You hid her so that she would never realise her full potential, you never trained her abilities and yet her power still drowns you, and instead of caring for her and helping her, you locked her away in this city and silently forbade her to ever leave."

Lady Death rose to her feet and approached the desk, paying little mind to the daggers shooting from Cassian's eyes. Fuck the male who would let their master manhandle their precious mate. Nesta mirrored the High Lord, palms flat across the table and leaning in so that she could feel his breath on her cheeks, "You have raised y/n to be your executioner, you have spread this vile word of her ferocity and violence so that no one would ever wish to be around her. You created the image of a bloodthirsty monster that lays dormant in the Night Court until her master calls upon her, and y/n has realised just how much you have betrayed her. All she knows is what you reared her to be, not what she actually is or can be."

Lucien shuffled in his seat, opening his mouth and voicing, "You stole away her chance to choose her own path by manipulating her into believing that her place in the world was to be nothing but the Feared Princess of Velaris," he leaned forward in his seat, smirking at the way Cassian took a step forward, "The mere mention of her name strikes fear into the souls of every traveller, they sing songs around fires of her, she is the monster in the nightmares and the one dying men wish they never meet on the other side, and she has been allowed to be depicted like that because you wished it."

It was masterful really, how Rhys had manipulated everyone to believe that you were an awful abomination of a thing when in reality all you wanted to do was see the world and curl up with a good book. You hadn't experienced anything good or soul-awakening, Amarantha had stripped your essence from you the moment she carved your wings from your body, and that had been the moment that Rhys had wrapped his talons around your mind and bent you to his will.

"Tell me where she is."

Nesta cocked her head to the side as she scrutinised his face with horror laced in her orbs, after all they had said all he cared about was knowing where you were, he had no interest in acknowledging or accepting anything he had done. She looked to Cassian, "Do you not understand how disgusting this is? She grew up with you, you said she was like a sister to you that you loved her as much as him," Nesta pointed at Rhys who pulled back from the desk, "How could you stand by and allow this?"

"Y/N's power poses a threat to us all, I did what was necessary to ensure our safety."

"If that's truly what you think then you are no mate of mine," she spat and his eyes rounded as his forehead creased, his façade was cracking. Nesta turned her attention to Azriel, "You. You're supposed to be her best friend, she loves you more than anything, there's nothing she wouldn't do for you, Az."

Azriel shrugged, "My duty is to the Night Court."

"You're a pig," she took in the sight of Rhys who had taken a step or so backward and had found a place to lean against the fireplace, her anger bubbled and there was little she could do to stop the truth from stabbing him in his soul, "Y/N is in the Autumn Court. The one place you physically can't go, where none of you can and I'm so glad she got out of this shitshow of a city because she would have died if she had been locked away for another moment longer being treated like nothing and no one."

"Watch it."

Nesta chuckled lowly, "Or what, Rhys? You'll kick me out of the Night Court? It's a good thing that I'm already leaving."

What have I done?

The thought was on repeat in your mind, an overlapping record jolting with the same phrase.

A pit had opened inside of you, a gnarly black hole full of anger and hatred that had dampened the moment Eris had wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a flurry of light, and you could distinctly see the world as you knew it warp before your eyes.

The dress you had worn was draped over a standing mirror, the skirt of it brushing against the glass in the breeze swelling through the room Eris had led you to that night. Flowing water from a babbling brook sounded from beyond the window, harmonising with sweet birdsong and the rustling of autumn leaves. Sunlight speckled through the room and streaked across the thick brown carpet that made you feel like you were walking on clouds.

For a moment, you stopped thinking of how your life had momentously changed in the space of one decision. It was a peace you welcomed before the reality of it came crashing down on you.

Rhys would be furious once he found out that you had denounced your home court and title, so furious that he may not allow you back which wasn't exactly a bad thing. But nothing would made that vein in his forehead pop more than when he realised where you had gone. To Autumn. With Eris.

Your heart raced at the thought of it, your hands went clammy and damp, and you couldn't stop thinking about what exactly would happen to Nesta and Lucien because of your reckless decision.

You are the author of your own story.

A soft knock rattled on the door, pulling your mind back into the present. Lifting yourself from the larger-than-life bed, you padded over to the door, knowing that Eris would never just let himself into the safe space he had gifted to you.

Eris stood on the other side, the sunlight brushing over his face and turning his eyes into molten shimmer bronze, he looked handsome, dressed in tight taupe pants that were tucked into his riding boots, a cream shirt loosely poked into the waistband.

His gaze travelled down your figure that was half-hidden behind the door, specifically at the shirt he had leant you that barely fell to your mid-thigh which left the rest of your leg exposed to him. Your hair was messy from the night full of tossing and turning, but he thought you looked radiant, that it made you look rather adorable actually.

"Good morning," he told you softly once he was done examining you, there was a box in his arms along with a few folded pieces of fabric, "I went out this morning and got these for you," he offered, "You don't have any clothes here so I thought these would do for now until I could take you into town."

Taking the box and tower of clothes from his arms, you smiled, "Thank you," you suddenly felt naked in front of him, the breeze drifting inward and up your legs reminding you of that fact.

If he knew of your realisation he didn't let on, "Our fashion isn't like that of your former court, but I'm sure you'll look incredible in it regardless," his eyes sparkled and your racing heart began to relent, "I'll be in the gardens when you're ready, Fawn."

Eris left you after that, he left you with the lingering speckles of his scent, the same scent that you had drifted to sleep bathed in thanks to the large shirt he had given you. The arms of the shirt drooped on you and you knew that it was due to his large arms perfectly fitting in the fabric.

The clothes were lovely, a mixture of dresses in a variety of styles and hues that you knew would mould against your skin perfectly, tailored shirts and tight leather pants, feminine waistcoats of forest green and red wine with golden embellishments, and undergarments that you knew Eris wouldn’t dare pick himself. Even the thought made heat rise to your cheeks.

Deciding to embrace your defection, one that Eris had been careful not to voice directly, you dressed yourself in a pair of high waisted black pants and a fitted artic blue blouse. It was so unlike anything you had ever worn, but it was beautiful in its own way. Turning to the box, you lifted the lid and gasped at the oyster coloured riding boots that must have cost a small fortune considering the intricate stitching. They weren’t just regular riding boots, no, when you slid them up your calves and found yourself adjusting them to your thighs, you knew they were a statement piece if you’d ever seen one.

Pulling your hair back into a low and messy bun, you found your reflection and grinned.

Eris was right, you did look incredible, like Velaris had been dispelled from you long ago and was nothing but a horrible dream.

Fir Manor was a special place, you could see why Eris chose to live there over the Forest House. It was light and bright and full of warmth from the whispering sun, ornate furniture was littered everywhere, the library was the personification of comfort and grace, exposed wooden beams loomed overhead and the windows were large and clear enough that you could see to the edge of the estate and the woodland beyond.

Your sun-starved skin cried in relief as you stepped outside, drinking in every vitamin offered to it, a low whistle caught your ear and you found Eris stood before a pair of large but stunning stallions, his hounds chasing one another and running between their legs which didn’t phase them at all.

“You look,” he trailed off as he approached, a jacket now completing his outfit and fingers raking through his red hair.

“Like Autumn threw up on me?”

“Something like that,” you huffed out a laugh and looked to the beasts, “I thought you’d like to explore the woodland today, get you out of the manor for a few hours?”

It was an offer than you wanted to say yes to, but at the same time couldn’t, ashamed of your oncoming admittance, “I would love to. It’s just,” you faltered, your eyes moved from Eris to the towering midnight black stallion that had craned its neck to look to you inquisitively.

Eris caught on, “You don’t know how,” a solemn finish to the sentence you were trying to voice, his heart clenched slightly at the defeat in your eyes, yet another thing that had been taken from you, “Well I can teach you,” he spoke, “Today you can ride with me, learn the basics, and you’ll be on your own stallion in no time.”

The High Lord of Autumn stood beside you, elbow to elbow, and even through the fabric of your clothes, you could feel his fire prickling across your skin and work its way into the woven fibres of your soul. He stood there seemingly unknowing of it, and when he looked down on you, waiting for your answer, all you could do was nod.

The stallion, Axos, shuddered under your touch as your fingers drifted over his side and around the curve of his saddle. Hands curled around your hips and you almost fell backward at the touch, Eris was behind you, his chest moving against your back and you glanced backward at him, "Don't get too excited," he smirked, and you wished you could have seen the muscles in his arms rippling as he lifted you up, instructing you to swing your leg over before he settled in behind you with ease.

The reigns became wrapped between his fingers, his breath was hot against your neck and Axos was moving onward after a curt click from Eris' mouth, his hounds trotting happily alongside you, "You have to roll your hips with each step he takes," his voice was gruff in your ear, low enough to send shivers flowing down your spine, "Like this," he unwound one of his hands from the reigns and placed it on your hip, gently moving it back and forth to the steps of Axos beneath as the stallion carried you both into the woodland, through the arched hanging branches and grasslands.

Awareness washed over you at how close Eris truly was, you were nestled at the centre of his open legs, his thighs encased your own, his entire chest shrouded you, and a shadow fell over you from the sheer size of him. He was pressed up to your back to the point you could feel his heart beating through his shirt, a thing you had become extremely aware of but didn't dare shudder away from in fear of him pulling away from you.

The landscape was picturesque, mounds of fresh earth, dainty flowers and fallen branches, leaves of orange, brown, and red, and water flowing through the small brooks, trying to find their way to the river. Even the sun felt surreal, it streaked through any respite of bark that it could, its golden glow spreading and infecting the land. Soft scampering of tiny paws ran through the trees, squirrels jumped from branch to branch, following you and paying no attention to the swarm of hounds keeping an eye on them.

It astounded you how a place so beautiful even existed.

It scared you how place so beautiful could turn into the most vicious of battlegrounds.

"Are you afraid, of Rhys coming here?"

Eris tensed behind you, his hand still lingering on your side, "We don't have to talk about this, y/n."

"I know," you told him, smiling softly as you watched a small bunny poke its head above its burrow, "I just know him, and I don't want to put you or your court in danger."

"I'm not afraid of him, and he will never step foot in my court. I won't allow it," he was stoic, and you knew he was telling the truth, Eris had faced worse than Rhys, he had endured worse.

"I can go, I don't have to be here, Eris."

Axos stopped moving, your brows itched together in a frown and you turned to capture Eris' gaze which was riddled with confusion, "I would never dream to keep you from doing whatever it is you wish to you, even if you wish to leave, I would not stop you. But I would like you to stay, and I think you would like to stay too."

Eris' amber pools softened and he smiled sadly at you, knowing that you didn't wish to leave but wanted to protect him and his home from whatever it was that Rhys could inflict upon it, "You will always have a place here, y/n. No one can take that from you, whatever you wish for is yours."

"Who knew that the fox could be so sweet?"

Eris tilted his head back and laughed, a pure thing of serenity, he moved his hand to your thigh and squeezed it gently before grabbing at the reigns once more, "Keep going, Fawn. You're getting warmer."

The hours ticked by, idly chatter filled the air, he told you the names of his hounds, you had unmounted Axos and delved further into the woodland, touching every tree that you could as if you wouldn't see them again all whilst Eris trailed you with a distant grin on his lips. Sunlight began to wane into its mid-afternoon position, the warmth replaced with bristle breezes and the birdsong drowned out by the emerging chirps of crickets.

Golden hour.

A moment you had heard of, when the sun reached its most comfortable resting place before it beckoned the moon to start its ascent, where the world was coated in the golden autumn glow that consumed the land. You had heard the stories of its beauty, but nothing could prepare you for it as you watched the light shift to a different angle and a shimmer cling to everything that moved. The waters glistening, sparkling and reflecting against the bodies of the trees, and that sparkle bounced all over the clearing where you stood.

"It's beautiful," your voice was a whisper but your eyes floated about the clearing, your body turned where you stood and you drank it in.

"It is," Eris confirmed from where he stood, dry branches creaked under his feet as he approached, "It's something that I take for granted, when you see it every day you forget how special it is."

"I wish that you could see it again for the first time."

A weight shifted at your feet and you peered down to see one of Eris' hounds, Willow, perched atop your toes, looking up at you with a lopsided grin as she panted. Reaching down, you scratched the spot beneath her shin and between her ears, your heart swelling as her tail swatted at the floor and her eyes screwed closed as she accepted your touch, "She likes you."

Willow was an elegant beast, long brown lashes, deep brown eyes, shining fur of tan and black, and shaggy ears that fell down the sides of her face, "I like her too."

Eris' eyes glowed, with what you couldn't quite tell, "We should head back to the manor, you must be starving."

When you thought of it you were hungry, you didn't remember the last time you ate, perhaps the morning of your departure but you couldn't be sure of it. The ride back to the manor felt too short, you were relishing in his company far too much, so much so that you wished that the day wouldn't end.

Fir Manor approached in the forefront of your vision and you sighed, ready to be in more relaxing clothes, but also ready to eat something. You could only imagine how incredible the food would be if even the landscape alone brought you happiness. Eris dismounted first and held his hands up to you, not even straining as they gripped your waist and placed you back on the ground delicately.

Eris' finger reached to tuck a strand of your hair behind your pointed ear, one that must have fell loose from the effortless bun you had thrown your hair into that morning. That same finger lingered, ghosting over the curve of your jaw and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. His eyes were on you, waving themselves over your face.

You could have stayed there for much longer, in his arms with his fingers dusting over your skin. It seemed that others were too impatient to allow the moment to continue as the door to the manor swung open and you turned your head to see Nesta and Lucien stood on the porch with Elain in the doorway.

"Nes?" Eris' grip on your waist tightened slightly but relented as you moved away, pacing up the pathway and flinging yourself into her open arms which wrapped around you tightly, "What are you doing here?"

"Our place is with you," she muttered and you pulled away, looking between her, Lucien and Elain as Eris fell to your side.

"What about Cassian?"

Nesta shuddered, she took a moment to glance at Eris and the apprehension he wore as he inched closer to you, "I can't be mated to someone who could allow something like this to happen."

"I'm so sorry, Nes," guilt pooled within you and she could see that as clear as daybreak, she took a step closer to you, taking your head in her hands and stroking your cheeks with her thumbs.

"Don't be," she shushed, "I chose you. I will always choose you."

Lucien placed a hand on your shoulder and offered more detail, "Rhys is furious, but he knows that he can't get to you here," he glanced to his brother and his lips tilted downward, "He's asked for you, for a meeting at the boarder."

The High Lord growled under his breath and took a protective step to you, it was clear that Rhys was going to attempt to barter for your return, that he was going to use his manipulation tactics to steal you back, "Fine," your blood ran cold and Nesta's fingers gripped at your wrists as Eris rounded your figure to stand beside her, "You're not going anywhere, alright? It's in our best interests to see what he has to say. I'll never let him take you," Eris turned his head to peer over his shoulder at his younger brother and Elain who had drifted from the doorway to entwine her fingers with his, his eyes faltered in want before he spoke, "You'll accompany me."

Lucien nodded stiffly and once, "For her, I'll do whatever you need me to."

"Thank you," Eris' words were sincere and he found Nesta's gaze, "You can all stay here for however long you'd like," then he found yours and he reached for your hand, his calloused fingers brushing over your knuckles, "Forever if it suits."

The sun hung low in the sky, the moon was pushing itself through the clouds and your heart raced with anticipation for the moment Eris and Lucien would both leave for the boarder, "Please be careful."

Eris nodded, rubbing your clothes arms in his hands to allow his warmth to run through you, "We will. Go and get changed, I'll see to it that food is on the table for you three by the time you're back."

"Us three?"

"The boarder is hours away," Lucien spoke for his brother who couldn't bare to tell you that they would have to leave imminently in order to meet with Rhys, "If we don't leave soon then we risk missing the window altogether."

"You're safe here, y/n. They can't get in."

In that moment, all you wanted to do was throw your arms around him, just to bask in his scent and warmth for another moment longer, but you couldn't. Instead, you nodded and allowed Nesta and Elain to lead you inside, and you continued to look over your shoulder up until the moment when Lucien closed the door with a tight lipped smile cast in your direction.

It would not be the last time you'd see him. If it was, then you'd decimate the entire of Prythian with your fury.

Author's Note

Here we are!

Hope you love it x

Someone told me that 'Who's Afraid of Little Old Me' by Taylor Swift is so The Fox and The Fawn reader coded and I cannot stop thinking about it

Taglist

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[bonecarversbestie]

The Scenic Route - Elain x Lucien

Chapter 5: The Middle (~4600 words)

Since AO3 has been up and down today, I thought I'd post my chapter in full here as well for anyone who wants to read it. (edit: ao3 is working again if you do want to find it there: The Scenic Route)

CW: this chapter contains very brief depiction of domestic violence between Beron and LoA

ELAIN'S POV

Amarantha’s throne room was exactly as it had been left four years ago: the cracked walls stood steadily, holding the horrors of the past within. Dried blood still stained the marble floor, and two obsidian thrones sat like sentinels on their dais, watching over it all in silence.

Elain felt Lucien’s fingers begin to tremble. She glanced up at him as he surveyed the throne room. He had been there the day Feyre was killed—had probably witnessed the torture and murder of countless other innocents. She wondered what memories still haunted him.

He took a faltering step into the room, pulling her with him. The air inside felt wrong— too heavy, as if it could squeeze the breath from her lungs.

Lucien released her hand and bent to examine something lying on the floor: a bronze mask fashioned after the face of a fox. Feyre had told her that the Fae of the Spring Court had been masked, and this one had an unmistakable air of Lucien about it.

Lucien picked up the mask, weighing it in his hands. He had worn it for nearly fifty years. He stared at the mask in his hands as if reunited with an old friend and sworn enemy.

Elain turned slowly on the spot, taking in the room. A cold weight settled in her stomach as she faced the back wall.

A body hung there—little more than a skeleton now, only enough dried skin and sinew remained to hold it together. It carried the marks of extreme brutality—the bones were twisted at odd angles, and the desiccated skin bore deep gashes. Even in death, the face was contorted in an expression of fear and pain.

It was too small—the fingers and toes too short. The limbs did not have the graceful length characteristic of the Fae. Elain pressed a hand over her lips as bile rose in her throat. This was a human.

Lucien returned to her side, his gaze fixed on the body. “I didn’t realize they had just left her there.” His voice sounded strained.

“Who is she?” Elain asked him, a spark of anger lighting low in her belly for this poor mortal who had been left alone and forgotten to rot for eternity.

Lucien hesitated before he said, “Those are the remains of a woman named Clare Beddor.”

The name crashed into Elain, nearly bringing her to her knees. “No,” she breathed as her body started to shake. “No.”

Elain felt like she was floating toward the opposite wall, toward Clare’s body. Memories danced through Elain’s mind as she stood before her old friend.

Pale sunlight reflected on chocolate brown hair, a charmingly crooked smile, hopeful green eyes, and a nose scattered with freckles. A giggle as Clare looped her arm through Elain’s while they strolled the muddy streets of their village, discussing their meager marriage prospects—speaking of the sons of woodcutters and tradesmen as if they were the scions of dukes and kings.

Clare had stood by them through their poverty, offering Elain and Nesta some sense of normalcy in one of the darkest chapters of their lives.

She fell to her knees at the base of the wall, resting her forehead against the cold stone. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “We heard that faeries had set fire to their house with the family trapped inside, but Clare was never found.” Elain looked back up at Clare. “She was here all along.” She looked over her shoulder at Lucien. “Why take her?”

“I’m not sure you want to know,” Lucien said, his voice gentle.

Irritation flared in Elain’s belly; she beat a fist against the wall. “Don’t do that to me.” Her voice was cold.

Lucien had been the first person in her life not to shelter or underestimate her. For all his protective tendencies, he had never treated her like she was fragile or incapable. He had always answered her questions. He had agreed to take her on this journey, knowing it would be dangerous.

For a moment, she felt like she was back in Velaris, shielded from important conversations—left in the dark while others were privy to the truth.

“I am tired of being treated like I will break at any moment. I will not.” 

Lucien swallowed and took a slow step toward her. “Four years ago, Rhysand came to the Spring Court to check on Tamlin’s progress with our curse.” He crouched next to Elain. “To taunt him really. I don’t think anyone expected Tamlin to actually find a human girl to fall in love with, but Rhys found Feyre there with us.” Lucien paused, looking at his hands. “He asked for her name, and she lied. She gave him the name Clare Beddor.’’ 

Elain’s eyes fell slowly shut as he spoke, and her first tears fell from her lashes.

“Rhys reported back to Amarantha. He told her Clare’s name, thinking Feyre had made it up, and Amarantha sent her cronies to fetch Clare in the human lands.” Lucien paused, gritting his teeth. “She tortured Clare before her entire gods-forsaken court, hoping it would break Tamlin to see the woman he loved brutalized. It took days for her body to finally give out.”

Elain stood, overcome by the desire to run far, far away, but there was nowhere to run to. She took a few steps away toward the center of the room. Lucien’s words had fanned the flames of her anger and disgust until it was an all-consuming blaze. 

She started tugging on the fingers of her glove, pulling it off her hand. “Selfish,” she spat, punctuating the word with a slap as she hurled the glove to the floor. She removed the other. “Arrogant.” another slap. “Entitled Fae pricks.” She tore the cloak from her shoulders and cast it away. “Her life was as important as anyone’s.”

“I know.”

“That foul wretch took Clare’s life when she had no right to it.”

Lucien hung his head.

“Our lives are nothing to them but bargaining chips or playthings used for their entertainment and discarded. Forgotten. Left behind to turn to dust while the bodies of fallen fae are honored.”

Our lives, she had said. Though her human life was long gone, she refused to believe that that girl no longer existed—refused to believe she had been drowned in that Cauldron and had not come out.

Human lives were sacred to her for their fleeting nature. She remembered vividly what it was to feel and love so deeply in such a short time. Clare’s precious life had been cut short when Elain’s had been stretched so unnaturally long. The injustice of it bit at her soul.

Elain took the dagger from the sheath at her hip and flung it with all her might toward the opposite wall, where it lodged in the stone. She sent the dagger from her boot after it with an otherwordly scream that reverberated through the stone of the mountain before she collapsed to her hands and knees on the marble floor.

She whipped her head around to look at Lucien. He still knelt beneath Clare’s body. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and a tear had escaped his russet eye.

“Get. Her. Down.” Elain snarled at him, her voice still shaking with fury and grief.

Lucien did not hesitate. He stood and pulled his cloak from his shoulders, laying it flat on the floor at his feet. 

Lucien reached out with his power, gently lifting Clare from the nails that kept her pinned to the wall. He carefully lowered her body to the floor, letting it settle into the soft fur of his cloak.

“I can burn the body if you—”

“No,” Elain cut him off. “No more magic touches her. We will bury her tomorrow morning.”

Lucien did not argue. He wrapped Clare tightly in his cloak, pulling twine from one of his pockets and binding it securely around her ankles, middle, and shoulders.

When he finished, he stood back, returning to Elain’s side. He reached out a hand, hesitating, before resting it on her shoulder.

Elain closed her eyes and bit her lips, holding back her emotion.

“I’m going to take the horses to the livestock quarters. I’ll be back.”

Elain did not acknowledge that he had spoken. She just knelt beside Clare, examining her face. She could just recognize her in the remaining strands of brown hair—dull now, their luster gone—and the slight gap between her front teeth. 

A tear dripped from Elain’s lashes onto Clare’s chest.

~*~

Lucien’s footsteps echoed uncharacteristically loudly through the corridors as he made his way back to the throne room—a warning, Elain realized. A chance for her to compose herself before he returned. She sat back on her heels and wiped her now swollen eyes. 

Lucien stood across the room. He was pulling her daggers from the wall. She hoped he wasn’t angry that she had used his gift in this way. In the moment, she hadn’t even thought about the damage she might have done to them.

He sheathed the daggers in his own belt before crossing to her. He held out a hand to help her to her feet. “We should rest,” he said.

Elain turned and stooped down, gathering Clare’s body against her chest. She was too light—she felt like less than a child in Elain’s arms.

“What are you doing?” Lucien asked her.

“I’m bringing her with us. I won’t leave her here alone.”

Lucien’s expression told her he was not fond of this plan, but he did not fight her. He led the way through a nondescript door on the side of the throne room and down countless winding corridors that took them deeper and deeper into the mountain

Elain began to grow slightly lightheaded. She was taking shallow breaths, trying not to inhale the musty smell of Clare’s body.

At last, Lucien stopped at a door. It looked the same as the hundreds of others they had passed on their descent. It was still slightly ajar, as if the room had been left hastily, and the occupants had not had time to latch it behind them.

Lucien did not enter but instead stood in the doorway looking in. He waved his hand, lighting the fire and faelights, illuminating a spacious sitting room. It was appointed with overstuffed furniture, all upholstered in deep red and gold velvet and arranged around a large, ornately carved fireplace.

There were hallways leading off to the left and right. Lucien led her down the one on the right and opened the first door, revealing a bedroom bedecked in deep orange and copper trappings.

Elain waited in the doorway. Lucien nodded at the bundle in her arms and patted the comforter. “For her.”

Understanding, Elain carried Clare into the room and arranged her on the bed.

When she stepped back, Lucien took her hand and pulled her toward the door. She let him, following him back into the sitting room. He stopped by the fireplace. Elain released his hand and sat on the rug before the fire, staring blankly into the flames.

Lucien disappeared down the hall again. When he returned, he was carrying two apples and a loaf of bread.

“Where did you find that?” 

“My brother Rory was notorious for hoarding food in his room when we were younger. Seems some things don’t change. He puts charms on them to keep them fresh.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Lucien pushed an apple into her hands anyway. Elain stared at it with no intention to take a bite. Lucien picked at a chunk of bread beside her.

He pulled the fox mask from his pocket and stared at it.

“Seems like a strange choice. To curse an entire court to wear masks.”

Lucien exhaled heavily. “Ah, well, I guess that aspect of the curse was because of me. To cover this,”he said, gesturing to the left side of his face, to the brutal scars there that tracked from his forehead down to his jawline. They were cast in sharp relief by the flickering light of the fire.

Elain just stared at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“Tamlin was furious with Amarantha for doing it, so she called us all Under the Mountain for a ball to ‘make amends.’ We were encouraged to wear the masks so that I could hide my…disfigurement.” Lucien sighed heavily, turning his face away from her. “Then she bound them to our faces permanently until someone came along to break our curse.”

“Feyre.” 

Lucien nodded once.

“It was Amarantha who took your eye, then?”

“She plucked it out with a fingernail.” He said, lip curling at the memory. Elain could feel the pain and rage and injustice of it burning in her chest.

“Why?”

Lucien barked a mirthless laugh. “Because I can’t keep my fucking mouth shut.” His face became serious. “I mouthed off, and she took my eye as punishment for my insolence. It was a fairly clean job, actually. The rest of the scars were an afterthought—a suggestion from my father.”

“What?” Elain asked, horrified.

“After she took the eye, she held it there, skewered on a fingernail, taunting me. Beron, who had enjoyed the spectacle immensely, leaned in and suggested that to drive home my punishment, she should destroy my face—that in doing so, she would snuff out my arrogance and insubordination.”

Elain’s heart was pounding. “What kind of father could do that to his own son?”

Lucien didn’t respond, but his face twisted into an expression of disgust as he stared at the mask in his hand, at the firelight glinting on the surface of the metal. He traced a finger over the carved lines of the fox’s face.

“Unless—” Elain hesitated, but her suspicions had become too strong to ignore. She pressed on. “Unless he isn’t.”

Lucien’s eyes snapped to hers. “Unless he isn’t what?

“Your father,” Elain whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the crackling of the fire.

Lucien’s face went pale, and Elain knew instinctively that she was right.

“What would make you think that?”

“You don’t look like your brothers,” She began. 

Lucien picked at the ends of his long red hair, where it fell over his shoulders. 

“It’s not just about your hair or appearance,” she said. “It’s your whole being. You are cut from a different cloth.” 

Lucien’s breathing had picked up, and Elain could hear his heart racing in his chest.

“You make and break wards as easy as breathing—ones that should be nearly impossible, like getting us into this place.” Elain continued, gesturing around her. She inched closer to him on the rug. “And that day you woke up glowing, it was not firelight that burned beneath your skin, but daylight.”

Another face presented itself before her mind’s eye: a beautiful face with warm brown skin, high cheekbones, and an angular nose. Helion Spellcleaver. 

She had met him on Starfall and was struck by a sense of familiarity that she could not explain. Understanding snapped into place now. 

Lucien’s eyes were burning into her. 

“Beron knows? Is that why he did it?”

Lucien gritted his teeth. “He wanted to lessen my resemblance to Helion, yes. And…I think he wanted to punish my mother by destroying the last remaining memento of her true love.”

It didn’t work, Elain thought as she studied Lucien’s face. It was far from destroyed. She had never seen a more beautiful face among humans or Fae. He was captivating, and his scars only added to his feral beauty.

“You said this secret puts more lives at risk than just your own. You meant her. Your mother.”

Lucien nodded solemnly. “She would be killed in an instant if word got out, which is why you can never tell a soul, Elain. Not even Nesta or Feyre, and especially not those wraiths that follow you everywhere.” She reached out a hand, placing it over the mask in his hands. 

“I won’t, Lucien. I’ll take it to my grave.”

Lucien flinched at the last word but nodded. “Thank you.”

“But if you are Helion’s son, you are heir to his court. Does he even know?”

Lucien leaned his head back thoughtfully. “I’ve often wondered about that, but I don’t think that he does. And perhaps it is better. I’ve never wanted a crown.”

“Why not?”

“I have never sought power over others. I govern only myself.”

It was a pity, Elain thought as she returned her gaze to the flames. It seemed to her that a ruler like Lucien was precisely what this land—these people—needed. Someone kind. Someone fair. Someone who would prioritize doing what was right over achieving his own ends.

If Lucien was to be High Lord, what did that make her? The Fae put so much stock in mating bonds even if they weren’t accepted. 

If she was honest, she wasn’t sure she wanted a crown either. She still wasn’t sure where she belonged or what she wanted to do with this strange second life that had been forced upon her. But thinking of Clare’s desiccated face and her broken body, Elain knew she wanted to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Lucien threw the mask onto the fire. It blazed white hot under his gaze, and the bronze melted into a puddle at the bottom of the fireplace. Lucien leaned back on his hands, and the fire died down until it was little more than glowing embers.

~*~

Lucien led Elain down the hallway to the left, pausing to smell the air as if he were trying to pick up a scent that had long since faded. He stopped at the last door on the left and pushed it open.

Beyond it was a cavernous and warmly lit bedroom draped in deep forest green and gold. “My mother’s room,” he said, gesturing inside. She walked past him and set her bag at the foot of the bed. “Not your own?” 

Lucien was leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed. “I did not stay in this suite. My room was hardly nicer than Feyre’s cell. I wasn’t meant to feel comfortable here like the rest of my dear family.” He spat out the last word as if it were bitter on his tongue.

Lucien pushed out of the doorway. “I’ll be just across the hall,” he said, gesturing behind himself with a thumb.

“Oh,” Elain said, trying to hide her disappointment and apprehension. “Okay.” 

She did not stop him as he left, though her body screamed at her to do so. “Lucien?” she called just as he had opened the door across the way.

He turned to look at her. 

“What is her name?” Elain asked, looking around at the room.

“Helene.” He said, his voice soft and laced with sorrow. 

“How long has it been since you saw her?”

“I’ve caught glimpses over the years, but it has been three centuries since I have hugged my mother.”

Elain felt the heartbreak and longing from his end of the bond, and she sent a warm caress down it that she hoped would be soothing. She felt a flicker of gratitude in return.

When Elain said nothing else, he turned and stepped into his room, closing the door behind himself.

Elain sat on the edge of Helene’s bed. This room felt friendlier—softer than any of the others they’d visited Under the Mountain, but she still was not happy to be here alone.

She and Lucien had not shared a bed since that first night in the Winter Court, and she had not slept as well since that night either, but this was the first time they’d slept in separate rooms since they’d stayed in Marina and Zephyr’s farmhouse. This place was not nearly as welcoming.

She lay in bed tossing and turning, mind racing. A half-hour passed before she threw the covers off herself and slipped out of bed. She crossed the room to her door and yanked it open to find Lucien standing just outside, hand raised as if about to knock. He was wearing only his sleep pants and a pair of half-moon spectacles.

Elain blinked in shock for a moment, taking in the smooth, sculpted planes of his chest and the ridges of his abdominals. 

Lucien cleared his throat pointedly, and Elain snapped her attention back to his face. “I couldn’t sleep,” he announced. 

“Neither could I.” She whispered. She noticed in his left hand he carried a book. She reached for it, and he handed it to her. It was Winter’s Embrace. “You stole it?” she asked him incredulously, whacking him on the shoulder with the book. 

Lucien’s face was less than contrite as he grinned. “You seemed unable to put it down. I was curious.” He said, strutting past her into the room. He looked back over his shoulder to say, “And I was right. It is salacious.”

Elain glared at Lucien’s back. “Stealing is wrong, you know,” she chastised, fully aware that she still had one of his shirts squirreled away amongst her belongings. But Lucien, unabashed, just rolled his eyes with a grin as he climbed into her bed.

Elain sighed and followed, sliding under the covers beside him.

She grabbed Lucien’s arm, tugging him toward the center of the bed. He moved closer, and she rested her head against his shoulder. He snaked his arm around her back, pulling her flush against his side.

Elain dropped the book into his lap and tapped the cover. “Read to me.”

“Really?”

Elain nodded and settled in a little deeper, breathing in his scent. It had become so familiar to her now—like home. Lucien began to read, his voice deep and sure. His words caressed her mind until she drifted to sleep.

~*~

Elain was standing in a large glass atrium built around an ancient tree. The gnarled and twisted trunk was nearly ten feet wide, and the light from the glass ceiling above filtered down red through the ruby leaves. Carved into the ancient bark was a throne of leaves and ivy. 

The High Lord of Autumn sat upon the throne, staring at her with a nasty, victorious grin on his cruel face. 

And then she was in a dark room. She felt only rough stone and straw beneath her, but gentle hands stroked her hair, her face. Somewhere far away she heard soft humming. 

And then she was in what she thought might be a greenhouse. Her vision was blurred, but she saw Lucien there, tending a strange assortment of plants. The figure turned to face her, and it was not Lucien, but a woman—a female—with kind russet eyes and long wine-red hair. She was grinding something in a mortar and pestle—a poultice of some kind. 

The High Lord appeared like lightning, and Elain saw a pale hand flash out, striking the woman across the face. She fell to her knees and the High Lord grabbed Elain by the back of her neck, and she was once again thrust into darkness.

~*~

Elain woke the next morning in pitch darkness. The room had no windows, no light. She was still reeling from the violence of her dream but shook it from her mind as she remembered Clare. She would bury her today. 

She dug her fingers into the skin of Lucien’s chest. She heard a soft sniff as he awoke and lit the fire.

They dressed and packed their things in silence. Lucien held out a hand for her bag, taking it with him on his trek to the livestock pens to retrieve the horses.

Elain entered the bedroom where Clare lay. She gently lifted the too-small bundle that was all that remained of her friend into her arms. She met Lucien and the horses in the main corridor, and they began their procession upward, out of Amarantha’s palace of atrocities.

Elain led the way, with Lucien following a few paces behind. She felt gentle tugs in her chest when they encountered twists and forks in the corridors, as Lucien guided her using the bond.

At last, they reached another cave—a Door. This one was shorter and wider, and Elain could see bright morning light on the other side.

They emerged into a lush meadow surrounded by snowcapped mountains. In the heart sat a crystal clear lake. 

Lucien dropped the horses’ reins, leaving them to graze, and untied two shovels from Juniper’s saddle. He must have taken them from the livestock pens. Elain walked the perimeter of the lake, Lucien following silently behind until she found a patch of earth atop a small knoll overlooking the lake.

Elain gently set down Clare’s body, and Lucien handed her a shovel. Taking the other in his own hands, they began digging until the hole was so deep that even Lucien could barely see out of it. 

He helped Elain out of the grave and she passed Clare’s body down to him. He laid it gently on the bed of earth, arranging the hood of his cloak around her face. Lucien pressed his fingers to his lips and extended them toward Clare—a gesture of farewell to the honored dead.

Lucien heaved himself out of the grave and came to kneel next to Elain.

“She was one of our only friends in a time when we had so little hope. So little joy. She never thought less of us or pitied us. And we were not there when she needed us most.”

“There was nothing you could have done. You would have met the same fate if you had tried.”

“Maybe I should have.”

“No,” he breathed, squeezing her hand.

“She deserved a happier ending than the one she got.”

“On that, we can agree.” Lucien took up his shovel again, and when Elain nodded to him, he began filling the grave.

Clare had been a light in the darkness, a true beacon of humanity. She watched through vision blurred by tears as Clare’s body became obscured and was consumed by the earth.

When the grave was filled, Lucien stabbed his shovel into the ground where a headstone should lie. He burned Clare’s name into the handle in neat letters. Elain buried her fingers in the freshly turned mound of soil, letting her tears fall freely into it. She sent her power into the ground. It came so easily now. A vast assortment of wildflowers and new grass sprouted beneath her hands. 

She saw the air shimmering around her and looked at Lucien. “Only friends may enter,” he explained, and Elain nodded, her face crumpling again. “Thank you,” she mouthed, unable to voice the words.

He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and then walked halfway down the knoll and sat in the grass facing the lake, leaving her to sit with Clare until her tears had dried up. 

Elain wondered where Clare was now. What she had felt at the end. Elain remembered the warm embrace of death as it had held her in the depths of the Cauldron. She had been dragged back, given a second chance. There is someone waiting for you. That ancient voice had said.

She turned to look at Lucien. Patiently waiting, as he always had been. Part of her worried that she had made him wait too long.

The sun was high overhead when she stood and walked down the hill to join him. She sat in the grass beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. They did not speak, but he turned and placed a soft, slow kiss atop her head before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Where are we?”

“Just over the border of the Dawn Court.”

They picked at their remaining scraps of food in silence before collecting their horses and continuing their ride northward. 

Elain took one last look back at Clare’s grave and couldn’t help feeling that she was leaving a very human piece of herself behind with her.

[the-lonelybarricade]

A collection of scary, thrilling, monster, or otherwise halloween themed feysand fics to help you get into the spooky mood!

All fics are arbitrarily rated on a scale of 1-5 👻's in terms of intensity / wickedness / spookiness!

SFW

Modern:

A trail of pomegranate seeds by @msfeyredarling - Feyre and Rhys (strangers at the time) both go to the same Halloween party and they realize their costumes match (👻- adorable meet cute!)

What's Your Favorite Scary Movie by @a-courtofdreams - Feyre is preparing for a scary movie night when she gets a series of phone calls from a stranger with a question. (👻👻👻👻👻 - spooky thriller!)

Halloween Costume by @reverie-tales - Feyre wants to do a couple costume with Rhys but he refuses. He doesn't like to dress up, he never really did. So Feyre asks Cassian instead. (👻 - pure fluff!)

Scaring is Caring by @the-lonelybarricade - A few drinks into reluctantly being dragged out of the house to celebrate Halloween, Mor suggests they go to a haunted house. But things don't exactly go according to plan. (👻 - unconventional meet cute)

Please Be more Carveful by @live-the-fangirl-life - After a disastrous pumpkin carving incident, Feyre's case becomes the latest in a string of Halloween-related incidents at Rhys' hospital. (👻- feysand fluff and sexy dr. Rhys)

trick or treat by @quakeriders - The next photo took her breath away. She was dressed like a witch. Eight years old, holding onto a broom like her life depended on it and scowling at a nine year old boy, who was wearing a huge pair of bat wings and grinned down at her mischievously. (👻- fluffy childhood friends AU)

Halloween by queenarcheron - Rhysand and Feyre watch a scary movie together (👻 - Illyrian baby needs his big strong girlfriend to protect him)

Are You Scared by AcrossASeaOfStars - Rhysand decides to invite all his friends to go to Velaris's most haunted house. The group decide to take bets on who will need to tap out and who won't be scared at all. (👻 - light hearted fun with the acotar gang!)

Every Vandal for Themself by @elentiyawhitethorn - Cassian Illyrian and Morrigan Hewn. Flirts, party-goers, best friends, roommates, and most importantly, remorseless pranksters. Feyre, Lucien, and Azriel, all victims of their Halloween pranks, decide they need to get revenge. (👻 - whats a little Halloween prank between friends?)

Canon:

Foreshadowing by absurdvampmuse - It was All Hallows’ Eve & the invite from the Night Court was heavy with cordial words & adornments. Feyre played on the image Tamlin had of her, even took him into consideration when coming up with her costume. Though she was truly going for him: Rhysand. (👻 - spooky fluff that will put you in your early acomaf feels)

The Cookie Monster by wingsofanillyrian -Rhys and Feyre hear a bump in the night... (👻- the most adorable midnight haunting)

A Court of Thorns and Roses Halloween by @bookofmirth - A set of prompts received on tumblr, specifically for Halloween. Some are fluffy, while many are creepy and/or gory. (👻👻👻👻 - readers beware, you're in for a scare!)

Down the Water Well by @the-lonelybarricade - Never go near the water well. For eleven years, Feyre obeyed her mother’s command. Except now, she was standing on the edge of that barren circle, staring at the stone well at the top of the hill. (👻👻👻 - whatever it is can't be that bad... right?)

Monster/AU:

Till Death Do Us Part by @the-lonelybarricade - Feyre makes a deal with the Grimm Reaper for a second chance at life... as his bride (👻 - fluffy slice of life)

Howling Moon by @writtenonreceipts - There is a dark spirit taunting the wolves of Velaris and only one witch that can stop it. (👻👻 - super fun urban fantasy mystery!)

Turn Your Ghosts Into Mine by @separatist-apologist and @highladydawn - The Archeron women have been considered witches in their little Massachusetts town of Velaris for centuries and Nesta, Elain, and Feyre are no exceptions. After witnessing a love spell gone horribly wrong, the three young girls create a spell for their perfect man, vowing they will not love until they meet this man. (👻👻 - the Archeron sisters have never looked sexier than when they were covering up a murder)

Accidentally In Love by @shallyne - Feyre likes her life as a witch. She's living in a cute cottage and makes potions, her best friend is visiting her all the time. But one day, her friend accidentally sips from her love potion and Feyre has to keep an eye on him (👻 - What if I slipped you a love potion and we kissed a little? jkjk... unless?)

I Can't Help Falling In Love With You by @amusedowl - Feysand Angst set in an Apocalyse au (👻👻 - you're going to need tissues for this one, but you can turn them into spooky ghosts after!)

Crimson Starlight by @asnowfern - Vampire Rhys and human Feyre falling in love in 1880s Paris. (👻 - a STUNNING fic that perfectly captures the victorian gothic aesthetic)

Chasing Tails by runningwater - The most wanted woman in town has announced that she’ll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key from around her cat’s neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them. (👻- cat-shifter regency AU? Say less)

-

NSFW

Modern:

Confessed Sins and Ripped Stockings by vxlkyrie7 - Feyre attends a halloween party and goes home with an unfairly gorgeous priest (👻 - spooky spice!)

Is There A Word For Bad Miracle by @separatist-apologist - That time Rhys stumbled on Feyre committing a murder and decided he had to have her (👻👻 - who says murder doesn't count as foreplay?)

Scream for me darling by Nighttriumphant - A modern AU of Feyre fulfilling her scream fantasy (👻👻👻 - consensual but filthy!)

Guilty As Sin by @separatist-apologist - Rhys has been watching Feyre Archeron for a long time. Thinking about what he'd do if he ever had her. How he'd keep her. And now he has her. (👻👻👻👻👻 - if he's a dangerous serial killer then why is he so husband shaped?)

Canon:

Would You Like Me On My Knees? by @starfall-spirit -  Angered by her deception, Rhys sends Feyre home, freeing her from their marriage and bargain made Under the Mountain, all too soon finding that to be the worst mistake he's made in five centuries. (👻👻 - mean beast!Rhys makes an appearance in this Silver-Tongued Bride offshoot!)

Five Times the Beast Was Subdued (and the One Time It Wasn't) by @the-lonelybarricade - A short chronical of canon moments Rhys grappled with his 'baser side' and the one time Feyre coaxed it out to play. (👻 - beast!Rhys only wants one thing and it's to please his wife)

Bejeweled by @thesistersarcheron - Every court has their own Great Rite with unique, ancient traditions. The Night Court’s priestesses have played coy with Rhysand since he inherited the throne last year about what imbuing the land with his power really means; all they tell him is that he is meant to spend the night in the Night Court’s mines dripping in ceremonial jewels while everyone else gets to attend the orgy without him. (👻 - to shreds you say?)

As the World Falls Down by @thesistersarcheron - Sometimes in the dead of night on the way to the kitchen for a glass of water, I see an extra door in the hallway, black and imposing. (👻👻👻 - what happens when Feyre never slays the wolf and faerie has to come to her instead 👀)

Poltergeist Darling by @thesistersarcheron - What would have happened if Feyre wasn’t resurrected Under the Mountain? ( 👻👻 - a spooky, sexy, gothic romance perfect for Halloween!)

Come Away O Human Child by @amnevitahwritesstuff -People disappear all the time. Or.. The fae come to our world to kidnap humanity and Feyre finds herself snatched up like all the others. (👻👻👻👻👻 - oh, to be kidnapped by an evil sexy faerie)

let me wrap my teeth around the world by @whatishowedyouinthedark - As if it wasn’t enough that the nightmares following her time Under the Mountain leave her shivering and rushing to the bathroom to retch; wasn’t enough to have suffered night after night from the continued torment, to relive the horrors she’d witnessed—that she’d done. Wasn't enough that she hasn’t had a proper night’s sleep in what feels like a lifetime. No, it’s the other dreams she is plagued with that are truly driving her mad. (👻👻👻👻👻 - wicked and delicious)

Unholy by @whatishowedyouinthedark - ‘If you are so inclined to play these games, girl, then I suppose you won’t mind if I let my dear friend here play with you.’ Feyre flinches at the memory of the Attor’s beating, but that isn't where Amarantha’s line of sight has gone when after a long, pregnant pause she glances up. It’s trained right next to her. On Rhysand. (👻👻👻👻👻- Daddy is VERY mean)

Monster/AU:

Be a Doll, Darling by @the-lonelybarricade - using an old spellbook from a novelty shop, Feyre acid

entally brings her sex doll to life (👻👻👻 - laughs in scared and horny)

Bite Me, Prick by @elentiyawhitethorn - modern vampire au with Feysand, where her blood is not only tasty but an aphrodisiac (👻 - sexy, laid back vampire just wants a little nibble? Go ahead, sir)

Violent Delights by @the-lonelybarricade - There were three rules that must be followed in the home of Viscount Rhysand. One: All staff were forbidden from looking at his lordship directly. Two: All windows were to stay nailed shut, and all drapes pulled over them lest any light creep through the boards. And the third and strangest rule of the castle: All female staff were forbidden from leaving their quarters during their monthly bleed. (👻👻 - he-he's going to put his mouth WHERE!?)

Enchanted, Enthralled by @popjunkie42 - On a cold autumn night in Velaris, Feyre comes across a beautiful gift in her studio. But as a painting takes on a terrifying life of its own, Feyre begins to realize that not all is well. The question is: how long will her mate and friends take to notice, and will it be too late? (👻👻 - sometimes a girl deserves to have her wicked way with her mate)

Invisible Thread by @a-courtofdreams - Prythian is transformed into a modern-day city where Feyre is a witch out of touch with her powers and Rhys is a powerful vampire. When Rhys recognizes Feyre as his mate, the timing is not ideal but he has to know her. Feyre is equally drawn to the handsome vampire who makes her feel alive and encourages her to find herself and her magic again. As outside forces threaten to tear them apart, will their fated bond be enough to keep the evil at bay? (👻 - urban fantasy / discovery of witches meets charmed)

The Creature of Nótt by @msfeyredarling - Raven-black locks, golden brown skin and eyes of the deepest blue made up the beautiful man, the most beautiful she had ever seen. Only he wasn’t a man. He was the creature her village was so frightened of. (👻👻👻 - if big, scary monster, why pretty shaped?)

Pretty Little Witch by @abraxos-and-ataraxia - Feyre wants to know what creature her sister is summoning in the basement. Little does she know, the Demon Prince is curious, as well. (👻👻👻👻👻 - if the big mean prince of hell likes to play rough with his toys, I volunteer next)

The Music of the Night by @the-lonelybarricade - It's Feyre's first year as an elligible maiden for the village reaping. In order to escape the chance of being chosen, Feyre rushes into a marriage with Lord Tamlin. She is terrified on her wedding night, but foruntately she is spared from consumating her marriage when she is pulled into a strange, erotic dream with an enchanting creature. (👻👻 - night unfurled its splendor alright)

I'd Rather Be a Real Nightmare by @separatist-apologist - A warning scream in the night sends Feyre running through the forest, straight into the waiting arms of the God Of Nightmares. (👻👻👻👻👻 - throne sex with an extra dash of dark!Rhys)

No Slow Dancing in the Dark by @iambutmortal - Feyre will do anything to get out of the Spring Court, including make a deal with the God of Night. Rhys is willing to do whatever it takes to make her his. (👻👻👻👻 - hi hello is this the Night Court? I'd also like to take that deal please)

Tell Me I'm a Wreck by @separatist-apologist - Feyre Archeron needs to travel the woods between her village and her grandmothers house to find out what happened to her missing eldest sister. Rhysand is waiting between the trees. (👻👻👻👻 - this one had my heart going pitter patter)

Meet Me In the Woods by @labellefleur-sauvage - Returning to the ancient forests surrounding his ancestral home in the Scottish highlands, Rhys quickly discovers how the hunter becomes the hunted when a bloodthirsty Scottish faerie turns her ravenous sights on him. (👻👻👻👻 - even Rhys agress that monster!Feyre just hits different)

High Tide Came And Brought You In by @separatist-apologist -Desperate to escape her impending marriage, Feyre throws herself from a cliffside. Anything is better than what's waiting for her. Even the monster hiding in the waves. (👻👻👻 - Maybe the deep dark ocean isn't so scary afterall?)

Bound For More by starry_soul - Feyre knew the moment she was chosen as that year’s offering that her life was over. What she did not expect was to feel such pleasure before death. (👻👻👻- sign me up for the next vilalge sacrifice please)

To Tango With the Devil by @iambutmortal - For two years, Feyre’s been obsessed with the demon statue in the church. It haunts her dreams, even on the eve of her wedding. To bad the statue’s just as obsessed with her. (👻👻 - peak "that's my wife" at first sight energy)

Crimson Moon by @velidewrites - A messy breakup forces 20 year old Feyre Archeron back to her old hometown of Forks, Washington—back to the life she thought she'd left behind. What she doesn't know, though, is that Forks has changed in her absence, its blue-tinted fog stained by fresh, crimson blood. Luckily, Feyre is ready to join the hunt. (👻 - this is the skin of a killer, Feyre)

The Prison by @amnevitahwritesstuff - In which Feyre is sentenced to life on The Prison, an island where only the worst criminals are left to rot, only to discover that there’s something far darker and stranger than her fellow criminals trapped on this island. (👻👻👻👻 - oh no I'm trapped on a scary prison island, it'd be a shame if a spooky poltergeist decided to make me his wife!)

King of Hell by @shadowisles-writes - When an earthquake shakes her house, the shelves in Feyre's basement fall apart to reveal a hidden door. The stairs lead down, down, down deep into a world she doesn't recognize. Rhysand is waiting for her there, ready to trap her and turn her into the perfect little pet. (👻👻👻👻👻- extremely non consensual kidnapping, sex, somnophilia, bondage and knife play)

[acourtofthought]

Just to address a few things first -

I love Feysand together and I don't hold their (Rhys's) past mistakes against them.

The way Tamlin spoke to Feyre at the High Lords meeting was petty and childish.

But for those who claim Lucien's actions with Hybern are unforgiveable and therefore will forever make it impossible for Elain to forgive him in order to accept their bond, I think we should compare two scenarios:

Rhys admits that he forced Feyre into their bargain as a way to defy Amarantha, a way to get back at Tamlin, and yes, a way to keep Feyre alive. Feyre acknowledges that she was a pawn in his schemes yet still fell in love with him.

Versus:

Lucien had no idea the sisters would be brought into things, that was all Ianthe.

He tells both Feyre and Elain that what happened was a mistake, that the sisters being brought in and how things went down was not their plan. One of Lucien's main goals was to try and save Feyre.

Rhys, in comparison, admits that it was his plan to use Feyre as a pawn to serve his purpose. There were aspects that benefitted her but most of it was for himself and his people.

Tamlin and Lucien believed Feyre was being brain washed and tortured, something she let Lucien continue believing when he found her in the woods, when she felt it was more important to protect the secret of who Rhys was under his mask. So they worked with Hybern in exactly the same way Rhys worked with Amarantha, with the end goal of protecting Feyre and helping their people:

The differences in these scenarios are:

Lucien and Tamlin never used Feyre or her sisters as a pawn versus Rhys who actively used Feyre as one. For good reasons yes but it doesn't change the facts.

There was no "Ianthe" in Rhys's situation. Rhys, as High Lord, made the decisions on his own and did not risk betrayal by sharing his schemes with others. He clearly made the smarter play compared to Tamlin who trusted Ianthe but.....

Lucien never liked Ianthe. Never really trusted her, never wanted her around. Just as Cassian, Az, etc. followed their HLs orders to hide Feyre's pregnancy, just as Amren and Mor chose to keep the mating bond a secret from Feyre, just as the IC all hid the information about Nesta's made weapons from her, those under a HL are subject to following the orders of said HL. It didn't matter if Lucien agreed with Tamlin about Hybern, about Ianthe, he had no power to challenge him. In the end, the decision to do what they did was not his call.

I think everyone in this fandom knows that the events of Hybern would truly not stand in the way of an Elucien endgame.

When Rhys used Feyre as a pawn on multiple occasions.

When Cassian told Nesta that everyone hated her and initially hid the knowledge of the swords from her.

When Bryce initially thought Hunt betrayed her in CC1.

When Rowan punched Aelin in the face and told her the world would have been better had she died as a child.

When Feyre fell in love with Tamlin even after he kidnapped her.

When Ruhn fell in love with Lidia despite the sins she committed for the Asteri.

I think everyone knows Elain's current behavior towards Lucien is not preventing an Elucien endgame.

Not when Nesta told Cassian she wanted nothing to do with him and slept with other males.

Not when Feyre was initially afraid of Rhys, said the night she kissed Tamlin was the happiest of her life, admits she wanted Rhys even UTM yet still accepted Tamlin's proposal.

Not when Yrene thought Chaol was to blame (by association) for the death of her family.

Not when you consider what Elide believed about Lorcans loyalty to Maeve.

Not when Aedion found out about Lysandra and Aelin's plot to deceive him in marriage and children.

Given the history of SJMs writing, there is nothing preventing an Elucien endgame aside from Elain's reticence over the bond and when an author like Diana Gabaldon turned an unwanted arranged marriage (for Claire) into a love story that has one of SJMs favorite male love interests, I think Elucien is going to be just fine.