#a court of night and fire

[shadowqueenjude]

Does anyone else find the Night Court sooooo boring? Like, there's nothing interesting there, no courtly dynamics or anything, just some sexist Illyrians and sexist people in the Court of Nightmares as well, and the whole book is Rhysand throwing his weight around WHEN he feels like it but not doing shit about genuinely important issues (like sexism). Rhysand is smart supposedly, but I've never actually seen him use TACT in this series. He's so powerful that he doesn't need to or whatever. Blah blah blah, Night Court is the biggest and the baddest. But the Autumn Court... Cutthroat, beautiful. It has sons competing for power from an early age, through combat and courtly wiles. Only the strong survive. It produced a Lucien and an Eris, and their complicated brotherly relationship. You have a paranoid, abusive leader. You have the whole LoA + Helion affair, a love child. The man who abandoned his heritage to play courtier to another High Lord. Who is friends with two humans, one who is tied to an evil god. You have Eris, playing the perfect prodigal son while planning a coup right under his father's nose. Both are potential High Lords. You have Gwyn, a part water-nymph having Autumn heritage; we could explore how mixed High Fae are treated as well. Also, I want to know more about how Lucien learned to catch fish with his BARE HANDS??? Finish the line: Autumn court males have fire in their veins and... The way I'd read an entire series on the Autumn Court 😩😩😩😩😩

[romanticatheartt]

Feyre:

Aelin:

Bryce:

Feyre is the Mother's strongest soldier lol

But also I feel like she's pretty chill about it too because she's that sure of him:

ps: I know this is before everything but Rhysand is the one who's way too possessive lol so I think this is still Feyre

[crazy-fangirl2524]

Most devastating thing that could ever happen to anyone

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XX

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: '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.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

The lovely hand-held mirror fell from Lucien’s small fingers, the emeralds on the hilt flashing in the torchlight as it crashed to the stone floors. 

Shattered. 

The pieces of glass around his booted feet winked as he looked down at them. He felt tears burning suddenly behind his eyes, and he swallowed, fighting back a sob with great effort. 

Lucien might have been young, but he knew what it meant to break a mirror. Seventy years of misfortune, he recalled, breathing in sharply at the memory of his older brothers telling him as much. 

He took a quick step back, hearing a crunch that set his heart beating at a faster pace. His parents would not be happy with him, he thought, his father most of all. He had been strictly forbidden from going into their shared chambers, but Lucien cared very little for rules, especially as they usually did not apply to him. 

Some of his older brothers called him spoiled, mother’s favourite, without responsibilities. His other brothers called him lucky, allowed to do as he pleased, and able to get out of trouble and avoid father’s moods with the flash of an embarrassed smile. 

Small for his age, and mostly left alone, Lucien found himself panicking at the thought that either of his parents might be disappointed. 

He focused on the mess he had made, pushing all thoughts of misfortune from his mind and bringing his magic to the tips of his fingers. A flash of golden light cleaned up all the small pieces, the dusting of crushed mirror around his feet disappearing quickly, but he struggled to do the same with the large shards of glass. 

Lucien rushed to pick them up, carelessly grabbing the last one, hissing in pain and nearly dropping it. He had cut his hand, feeling as though his bad luck had already begun. 

Lucien’s hand was still bleeding, tears streaking down his face, as he knocked frantically on his eldest brother’s bedroom door. He had managed to clean up all the mirror pieces, had thrown away all the glass and taken the frame to hide in his closet, but the handkerchief he held to his palm had turned scarlet. 

Lucien heard footsteps on the other side of the oak door and sighed in relief knowing that Eris was home. He trusted his eldest brother more than anyone and knew that he would not tell the others about the broken mirror. 

As the door swung open, the hinges screaming, Lucien threw himself into the room. Clinging to Eris’ leg, he sobbed once and choked as he held back more tears.

“What’s happened?” Eris snapped, voice angry, a concerned edge to it. He placed a gentle hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, a sharp contrast to the tone he used. “Lucien, what’s wrong?” 

With wide eyes, Lucien tilted his neck all the way back to look up at him. “I broke mama’s mirror,” he admitted. He held tightly to the fabric he had quickly wrapped around his palm, pulling away from Eris to show him the blood. 

Eris seemed to relax slightly, shoulders no longer tense, as he knelt down to Lucien’s height. He hummed in response, “Causing trouble now that mother and father are in Spring?” 

“I didn’t mean to,” Lucien rushed to explain as Eris used magic effortlessly to have a damp cloth appear in his large hand. “I was just—”

Eris wiped the tears from Lucien’s cheeks gently, pushing back loose curls as he did so. “You’re not supposed to go in there,” he interrupted.

“I know, I know,” Lucien hoped Eris was not disappointed. “I was just so bored and didn’t want to bother the others,” he admitted in a mumble. 

Eris sighed, the torches growing brighter. “Let me see the cut.” 

Lucien placed his small hand into Eris’s much larger one. Cringing as his older brother pulled away the fabric, clenching his eyes shut tightly in worry. 

“Open your eyes, Lucien,” Eris said, amusement lining the words. When he was met with a nervous shake of Lucien’s head, he repeated himself, tone softer this time. 

Lucien opened one, just a slit to peek through. He saw Eris raise an auburn brow, encouraging him to look at the cut. “Oh,” he breathed, witnessing with great interest as the skin knit itself back together. 

“Grandmother was from Xian before she came to Autumn,” Eris said, and Lucien wondered if he was about to tell a story. Eris was not the best storyteller in their family, but with the Lady of Autumn in Spring and Callum at the war camps near the Winter border, Lucien figured Eris would be good enough in their absence. “Faeries would arrive to her on death’s door, and with a small wave of her hand she would send them on their way, better than before,” he continued. “She could heal anything.”

“Anything?” Lucien asked rather sceptically. He was finding it hard to believe since he had never met the female. The Lady of Autumn had no family, and he knew from those at court that they had all been killed in the war with Hybern. 

Eris nodded, the short strands of hair by his shoulders looking like copper in the dim light of the room. “Anything but a broken heart, they say.” 

At his older brother’s words, Lucien remembered the mirror. “Eris, I’ve been cursed,” he felt his lip quivering and he bit the inside of his cheek to make it stop. He tugged on the expensive fabric of Eris’ coat with his healed hand.

“By who?” Eris asked, although Lucien could tell he did not quite believe his claim. 

“I broke a mirror,” he said softly. “That’s seventy years of misfortune, remember?” 

He watched as Eris flashed him a small smile. Rare as a red moon, Lucien always felt a strange sense of triumph when he got his eldest brother to smile. Ruffling his hair, Eris reassured him. “Those are just ridiculous stories that mothers tell their sons so they won’t go on breaking their mirrors.” 

When Jesminda had been killed, Lucien’s thoughts had returned to that day. For whatever reason, he continued to reflect on the distant memory as he walked towards his father’s study. 

Lucien had woken up to find Elain pressed against him, and when he went to move, it only seemed to encourage her to hold onto his arm. Her hair had been fanned across the pillows, curls covering her eyes. She had made a soft noise as he had shifted. He had been torn between staying with her, or obeying his father’s order from the day before. 

In the end, he had simply left Elain a note, the pull of the bond a steady ache as he had cast a final glance in her direction and had shut the door to their shared suite. 

Lucien was dragged out of his memories and any thoughts of his mate by the sound of wood crashing against stone. He had been so absorbed by his own past, that he failed to realise just how close he had gotten to the High Lord’s study. 

Lucien paused as Eris walked past the stone arch, slamming the door behind him, embers falling to the ground like leaves on a rough wind. He leaned heavily against the wall for a moment in defeat, and Lucien thought he must be truly distracted to have not yet noticed a grown male standing mere steps away. 

The iron scent of blood had Lucien wincing as he watched Eris drag a beringed hand across his mouth, a scarlet streak cutting across the pale skin of his cheek. 

“Eris, what happened?” Lucien asked softly, not wanting to draw their father’s attention. 

At the question, Eris stiffened, shoulders drawn back, he shook his head. “Nothing,” he snapped. 

Lucien waved a hand in his brother’s direction, raising a sarcastic brow in response. “Really?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Eris said with a scowl as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, staining the white collar of his shirt. He moved to shove past Lucien, but was met with an arm blocking his path. 

“You alright?” Lucien questioned, frowning at the shock that briefly flashed in his brother’s eyes. He wondered at the last time someone had cared to ask Eris such a thing. 

Lucien felt as the tense muscles beneath his grip loosened at the words. Their eyes met, and golden flames dimmed, returning to a sharp amber. The loud click his own eye made was thunderous in the heavy silence. 

Eris nodded once, dipping his chin, gazes locked. “I’m fine,” he offered. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He had never sounded more ancient. 

Lucien did not believe him, but he was not going to argue. Letting his hand fall to the side, Lucien turned to watch Eris walk away, but his older brother did not look back before he winnowed from the hall, the torches flaring with the burst of magic. 

Lucien stared at the empty space for a moment, deciding he would ask Elain to check on him. They seemed to be getting along well, and he figured she might have an easier time pulling the truth from him. He quickly pushed all thoughts of Eris aside and focused once more on the task at hand. 

As he approached the door to his father’s study, Lucien took a steadying breath. Just as he could feel panic crawling up his spine, he was surprised at the wave of calm that crashed over him. From the golden thread at his rib, it slowly fanned outwards, a comfort. 

Lucien raised his fist, knocking three times, listening carefully for the response on the other side. 

“Come,” his father’s low voice responded, muffled by the thick oak. The door opened easily on a phantom wind, noiseless. 

Lucien bowed at the waist as soon he entered, the movement practised, respect in the face of the High Lord before him. Beron nodded in acceptance, setting aside the old looking parchment in his hands. He took off a pair of gold rimmed glasses and placed them on the hand drawn maps he had laid out on the desk. 

“Good morning, Lucien.” He tilted his head to the chair on the other side of the large desk. 

Lucien was glad for the obstacle between them, the little bit of distance. “Father,” he said, watching for any reaction from the male in front of him. 

“I hope the time you and your mate have spent in our court has been enjoyable.” His expression was serious, a neutral mask with no cracks. 

Lucien nodded, keeping his answer short. “Yes, thank you.” 

Beron hummed in response. “I have not seen your mate in the gardens again,” he observed. 

Lucien nearly snarled that Elain would not be returning to the courtyard, but he pushed down the initial instinct. Instead he frowned, “I asked her not to go again, so as not to disturb you, father.” The last word fell like a stone between them, accusing. 

An emotion flashed in Beron’s dark eyes, looking to Lucien very much like regret. “She’s a nice girl,” he shrugged, the action smooth. “You and Elain Archeron are a good match.” 

Perhaps if his father had suggested as much a few days ago, Lucien would have had to fight back a wince. Now that trust had slowly bloomed between Elain and him, an honest friendship growing, he could only nod. 

They looked at each other a moment, Lucien searching the harsh lines of his father’s face as he had done countless times as a child. They had not looked alike then, his mother’s son in appearance and never in a position to contend for Autumn’s throne. 

Beron sighed as his eyes fell to the scar that slashed across Lucien’s face. “I had wanted to go over some of the wedding preparations with you, but I will unfortunately be occupied for the rest of the day.” Waving a hand in dismissal, he ended their conversation. “Find your mother, she can finalise everything with your mate.” 

Lucien felt numb, as though he had fallen through ice and been plunged into the waters beneath. There was one more week left before the wedding ceremony. He left the room, bowing slightly, mind elsewhere. He walked with slow steps back to the chambers he and Elain shared. 

Lucien turned his father’s words over and over in his mind, that Elain and him made a good match. He felt a pull towards her, wanted to be near her, and he wondered if it was the effects of the bond, or simply because he was drawn to Elain. 

You are mine, and I am yours. 

Lucien decided he needed a break from the Forest House, and he would ask to see if Elain would like to come with him. 

[cynthiesjmxazrielslover]

just re-read Catching Fire when the idea of how similar rhysand treating velaris and president snow treating the capitol came to my mind. The capitol and its people however poor live in better conditions than those in the districts AND- The people of Velaris despite slums being present have better living conditions than Illriya and the court of nightmares. Snow has knows the conditions and knows how terrible the conditions are and can relate his past with poverty and starvation with his father being murdered and being abusive . Rhy also relates with the condition of the women who r*ped in CoN and forced and abused their just how he was with Amarantha. Everytime there some spark or fire of a rebellion or protest he sends or goes to these places cassian or someone else and, we all know how he handles them - Showing his upperhand - Being more brutal and treating them to ensure they stay in their place. Obviously the other places are happy about this and we see it as well as it mentioned JUST LIKE IN THE HUNGER GAMES SERIES So In ACoSF and ACoFaS there were mentions of uprising in Illyria. In ACoMaF and ACoWaR in the CoN. Thus , we see how similar PRESIDENT SNOW AND RHYSAND ARE IN SOME WAY OR ANOTHER THE PEOPLE OF VELARIS ARE SIMILAR TO THOSE IN CAPITOL. There is going to be an uprising at some point or another when the spark of discontent turns into blaze. Your, Honour I rest my case.

[azrielsshadows42]

A Court of Scales and Fire V

A/n: Sry about the wait, I had assessment after assessment plus 2 exams, then I had massive writer's block, but it is here, finally. Thank you all so much for your patience. This is also my submission for @erisweekofficial, day 7: free, I'm hoping this will help get my story out there. btw, you cannot read this as a stand alone it will not make sense.

Chapter 4 Character Moodboards

A/N: The dividers are made by @tsunami-of-tears , and comment 🐆 if you got the Kipo reference

Warnings: Swearing, No misogynistic Illyrian lords were harmed in the making of this chapter (unfortunately)

Both = Mind speak (Colour will vary depending on who is speaking)

Bold = Ancient Language

Italics = Thoughts

Word count: 3.2k (Excluding Recap)

Recap:

"Focus. I thought you said he's not your friend"

"He's not" I immediately replied with, saying it so fast I almost interrupted her. "If you're not friends, then why is he here?" I sighed deeply; this shit was not exactly my forte "He is the High Lord of Autumn, we made a deal with him a little while ago, and now we have an alliance" That was explained terribly, but it will have to do.

"What does he want now?" My eyes shot toward where the 'discussion' would surely be taking place, as if I could see through the walls, right to where Eris was standing and glare at him to make sure he didn't try anything stupid.

"No idea"

Rhysand's Pov

We sat there studying each other for a moment in silence. Ever since both ends of our bargain had been held up, Eris never visited the Night Court, he wasn't welcome here. Just because our courts were allies, for the benefit of the Autumn people, did not mean we suddenly liked each other, and it certainly gave him no authority to waltz into MY home, unannounced.

"What do you want, Eris?" My voice was cold, as it always was during official High Lord correspondence. His eyes regarded me with indifference, and he raised a goblet of wine to his lips, painfully slowly. I somehow had a feeling he did that just to grate on my nerves.

"I would have thought that brute of yours would have told you" He drawled. "While Under the Mountain, we were attacked by a witch who, as I understand is now under your roof, you wouldn't happen to know her, would you?" Eris took another slow drink from his glass, my eyes narrowed, sharp enough to cut through his mental barriers if I wanted. "Are you suggesting that I planted the female there?"

"Well, it is rather suspicious you learned of it and dispatched one of your dogs at the same time I did, especially considering how much farther the Night Court is from the place of incidence." His know-it-all tone annoyed me beyond belief, but I managed to speak my next words with the same cool indifference as the rest of this discussion. "We did not know her prior to the events of yesterday"

"Really? I could have sworn I heard her and your general talking earlier, they seemed pretty comfortable, has he tired of Nesta already? Typical of Illyrians." I failed to keep the rage out of my eyes, the anger out of my voice. "If there is nothing else you're here for, High Lord" The title was spat out like an insult "Then leave, now"

"Actually, Rhysand, there is" The words were spoken with a thoughtfulness that didn't match the fae speaking them. I did not say anything, did not deign him with a response, my silence was his invitation to elaborate.

"Recently my guards have found traces of people passing through Autumn with our regular traders, People I have not permitted, carrying with them something unfamiliar, and certainly not from any of the seven courts, nor the human lands as well as a mysterious break in the trees, perhaps your new little witch friend has something to do with it"

I considered that this might be true, though whether this female was a witch or if that was just another thing Eris assumed about her was unclear, although I also considered that these strange occurrences might be caused by the apparent weapon smuggler's Y/n told us of, in which case she is telling the truth, at least about this.

"We shall keep a close eye on her, in the meantime, she is innocent until proven guilty, and she is under the protection of the Night Court, so I believe it is time for you to take your leave" I stated it with finality in my voice that left no room for him to argue. The new Autumn High Lord huffs slightly in displeasure, but makes no retort, winnowing back to his Court without any further fuss, merely saying: "I will be back tomorrow".

I really hope I don't regret this.

The next morning - Y/n's Pov

It was early, the sun hadn't even crested over the mountain yet, Y/n was still in her guest silk night gown. She sat atop the massive bed, Everest in her lap. "Ok, granted, we haven't gotten anywhere with our mission" Her long leafy tail flicked a piece of lint off her knee, very pretentiously, in Y/n's opinion. "Told you." She would have retorted, but they both heard footsteps, judging by the length between each sound and how deep it was, she guessed it was Cassian. "Hide"

Y/n scrambled to the top and threw the linens over herself while Everest shrunk further to the size of a large mouse and crawled under the bed. The footsteps stopped right outside the door, then they were violently flung open. "Gooooood morning!" Cassian's booming voice sounded out into the room with a sing-song aspect to it. "Time to get up sleepy head" While yes, she was already awake, it was four-thirty in the morning, what the hell was he talking about?

"It's too early to be awake" came her grumbled response, she made sure her voice was deeper and slightly rasped. "You said you wanted to go to Illyria, right?" There was a pause in which she used to process what he had just said. "Really?" she questioned.

Cassian's grin brightened; he is way to energetic right now. What the hell does he put in his coffee, cause whatever it is, he needs to share, I need some of that too. "Really, but only if you get up now" His hazel eyes looked at me expectantly. I looked back at him, lips thinned. "Well are you going to leave so I can change?" That seemed to snap him out of it. "OH, right, right, yes, I'll leave" He bolted out, closing the door behind him.

Once they knew Cassian was out of earshot, Everest climbed back on to the bed giving Y/n the sassiest, most flat look a dragon could. "Illyria, really?" "What? I'm curious!" She rolled her emerald eyes.

"And what am I to do while you're out galivanting?" Y/n stood up from the bed, taking off her sleepwear and replacing it with her undergarments and armour. "Have you found a princess to torment yet?" Everest's head whirled around so fast she worried she might snap her own neck. "I will bite you." hissed Everest.

"Right, cause you've never bitten me before, I'll be in true agony, such unexpected pain" Y/n's words oozed sarcasm. Everest huffed, turned toward the open pavilion and flew out over Velaris, but not before throwing one last glare at Y/n, just for good measure.

Y/n put her hair up in a simple braided updo before exiting the bedroom. She grabs one of the sandwiches the house put on the table as she walked past and into the training room, where she assumed Cassian would be. Y/n was proven right when lo and behold, there stood the Night Courts general, next to their emissary, Mor. "Greetings, and salutations" she said cheerily, Cassian matched her energy while Mor appeared as if she would fall over any second. Someone clearly had not yet woken up. Y/n clapped my hands together "So, how are we getting there?"

"The lovely Morrigan will be winnowing us" Her eyes trailed the females tired form sceptically. "Does 'The Lovely Morrigan' know that?" Mor was now leaning almost all her body weight on Cassian. "Yeah, I asked her yesterday" She let out a grumble, opening her eyes a bit more while pushing off of Cassian. "You failed to mention that I needed to do it at four-thirty" He feigned confusion "Did I? Huh, must've slipped my mind, and technically, it's five now" This, unsurprisingly, didn't improve Mor's mood.

"Just get over here so I can go back to bed" They stepped closer to her, each putting a hand on her shoulder, the world warped, twisting and turning once more until they were on a snowy peak. The second they got there, Mor shook their hands off her, and winnowed back before they could thank her. It was not long after that the cold penetrated Y/n's armour. She shivered, and goose bumps rose on her skin under her sleeves.

"Not used to the cold?" She had been in plenty of cold places before, but usually Everest would be there to warm her up, always blocking the wind so she never felt it. "No, I'm fine with the cold, I just never knew this place warranted the use of igloos" Cassian laughed uproariously. "It's not that cold, if you want igloos, you'll find them in Winter" Y/n watched as their breath plumed out in front of them. "We'll agree to disagree"

Snow crunched ahead of them, Y/n could see three winged figures, one in front, the others trailing a few paces behind. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't like the vibe they gave off, and the middle one looked very punch-able. "Lord Devlon" Cassian said in greeting.

"Cassian" His eyes roamed over Y/n in distaste. "Have you brought another witch here?" She didn't know who this Devlon was talking about, or if Cassian had actually brought a witch here, but she decided if she was only going to be here once, then she'd have as much fun with it as she could.

"No, this time he got the witches mentor" Y/n grinned evilly at them. Panic flashed across Devlon's face, though he tried to conceal it. His companions however, made no such attempt. She could hear Cassian mutter under his breath saying "You and Nesta both" with an exasperated look and shook his head. Oh, so Nesta was the 'Witch' he'd brought last time, I should've guessed.

"She is here to learn, just like Nesta was" Devlon's eyes narrowed, his lips pursed and just a general air of supreme asshole about him. "No."

"We weren't asking" Cassian replies, with an edge to his voice. "I will not have you bring more disgrace to this camp" He sniped sharply. It was then, that Y/n stepped forward, her eyes dark, menace in every move she took. "Oh really, is that so?" To intimidate them, she started chanting in the ancient language of the dragon riders known as Draconic.

"Feta, Gouda, Chevre, Fromage"

The two lackies pulled their weapons as she made the marks around her eyes glow, Devlon's face revealed the fear he felt in that moment, even Cassian looked at her unsurely. "Stop, STOP IT THIS INSTANT" Y/n only chanted louder.

"FETA, GOUDA, CHEVRE, FROMAGE"

"Alright, alright, enough, you can train here, just stop your curses." The glowing faded and she plastered a sickly-sweet smile on her face watching Lord Devlon heave breath after breath. "Lovely, thank you so much for your generous hospitality"

Cassian's Pov

I was starting to think that maybe Eris wasn't entirely wrong about Y/n being a witch. I have never heard a language like that, and her face glowed, at least, some of it. And it has been officially confirmed that her and Nesta would get along swell. All she needs is a smut book in front of her and they're practically twins.

We walked through the camp, snow crunching beneath us, I could tell the cold was starting to get to her. I guided her past the buildings, pointing out certain shops, explaining anything she questioned. "Why was Devlon so pissy about me coming here? I mean, I get the whole 'No outsider's' thing, but it almost seemed personal.

"I'm not regarded very highly here, anyone I bring, he would immediately hate. I already brought Nesta here and she also said she was a witch, you can imagine how well that went over. And finally, you're another female I have brought to train, he doesn't want to lose more weapons. There is a superstition here that if a female touches a weapon, it will bring bad luck to the wielder" I winced, this was the part of Illyrian heritage I wished I could erase, it was silly, but mostly, I worried it would deter Y/n, make her want to leave.

To my surprise, she laughed. "Then my blades must be double cursed, they were forged by a female too" I couldn't help but chuckle at that. "They would lose their shit if you ever told them that"

We only stopped once we got to the furthest training ring in the camp, just in case she did anymore witch-stuff. "What exactly did you do back there?" Her brows pulled together in confusion, so I elaborated. "The chanting and the glowing eyes?"

"Oh, that was nothing" My eyes told her that was not enough of an answer. "I just said a bunch of words from a language we are taught when becoming trackers, and the marks on my face can glow when I tell them to, apparently it's got something to do with a survival tool that we no longer need, but still have the feature. If Lord misogyny is just gonna assume I'm a witch, I might as well have some fun with it."

As if Devlon didn't hate me enough, he gave me plenty of shit about bringing Nesta before even knowing she's not a witch. However there will be no way to convince him otherwise after that little stunt Y/n pulled.

"Are you ready for some real Illyrian training?" I asked as a challenge. She unsheathed her blades, spinning them around herself elaborately for show before crouching in a fighting stance, prepared to leap.

"Ready"

Eris's Pov

I was back at the house of wind, to my surprise, it was Rhysand who had contacted me about a meeting today, saying he did indeed have information about who he suspects is behind the unauthorised traders. I walked into the room, eyes scanning for imperfections, I found none, they prepared well, I'd give them that. Both Rhysand and Feyre were sitting at an immaculately set table, finger foods plated beautifully dotted its surface.

I sat down opposite Rhysand, my hands had not even touched the table before a commotion was heard, voices and wingbeats. My heart jumped for some unexplained reason, and I beat it down because who gave it the right to start flapping around like a lovesick puppy?

The witch and general came in while talking to each other loudly, they were both covered in sweat. She was flushed and panting, her hair littered with fly a ways, but I struggled to redirect my gaze from her form. Her armour shined in a way those Illyrian leathers Cassian wore could only dream of ever comparing.

"I take it back, I wasn't ready" she spoke, panting heavily as she walks over to the couch and collapses on it. "Told you so" She rose her upper body on her elbows, turning to face him. "Hey, you try doing my work out without breaking a sweat, mine is a lot more cardio" Cassian's face scrunched up. "I'm good, thanks"

"Perhaps Y/n should join this meeting, as it is her mission to capture the people causing these disturbances, yes?" She perked up, raising herself higher and twisting her body to face us. "You've heard more about the weapons league?"

"I believe your weapon smugglers are the strange people mingling with Autumn's merchants" Her face brightened, the streaks of blue in her eyes coming to the forefront. There was something about the idea of working with her, of being closer that just pulled me in, I can't explain it, and I am finding that it won't be long before I can't fight it either. That could not happen, I will not develop... whatever this is for her, I need to stop it here and now.

"She is not from here, she can't possibly have a lot of information about them, there is no need for her to participate in this meeting, besides she seems..." My eyes trailed over her body with appreciation masked as disgust "...Occupied"

"On the contrary, these fae originally were causing trouble in her homelands and have stowed away here, she is more knowledgeable on this adversary than anyone we know." Rhysand interjected. I wanted to point out something else, something that would keep her away from this table and more importantly, away from me, but nothing came to mind, so I just tersely nodded my head, accepting her involvement.

"Alright, just give me a moment" The female got up off the couch, making her way to what he assumed was her guest bedroom limping a little. "Is she seriously postponing a meeting with two high lords and a High lady to primp?"

"You have no space to argue about primping, Eris" I knew that, and really, I was glad she was taking the time to get herself ready, unlike the brute who just sat down radiating heat like a second, very unwanted sun smelling of sweat and picking at some of the food laid out.

It isn't long before she returns with her hair down, still wet from the quick shower she took, her scent of caramel with a hint of pine invaded my nose and I couldn't help but notice how well it mixed with cinnamon and earth that I have. What is wrong with me?

Her hair swayed with her movements, blowing a more potent dose of her scent toward me, Y/n sat down beside me and started speaking about the contraband the fae were smuggling. I listened to every word but it went in one ear and out the other, all while I stared at her with intense focus. Before I knew it, everyone was looking at me, expecting some kind of input.

"Why are they in my lands?" I really hope that she hadn't already answered that. "I suspect it is because of the new power shift, there is always a certain acclimation time where mistakes are more easily made, therefore easier for them to work in, the fact that it is a straight line from Elethairia to Autumn is just a nice little convenience for them."

How dare they? How dare they think that just because I am in charge now, they could slip by undetected, I am not weak, and nothing happens in my court without me knowing. "I'd like access to your lands so I can track them down" Her voice broke through my rage, effectively gaining my attention.

"And how would this arrangement work?" Her eyes fixed on mine "I would go to Autumn from morning till evening, then return here until the job is done" I had no idea where my next words came from, they had not received approval from my brain before they were said, laid out for everyone to gawk at. "That's ridiculous, you'll stay in Autumn, track them down and then I shall assist in getting them back to Elethairia" I was seconds away from saying something truly stupid like getting you back to Elethairia, but luckily he wasn't that far gone.

I should have just agreed with the original proposal, that was what I was planning on, but my mouth had other plans, and I couldn't take my offer off the table now, otherwise I'd look like an indecisive buffoon. Instead, I said this:

"I shall await your answer" I then got up, thanked Rhysand and Feyre and winnowed back to Autumn, though a part of me longed to bring her with.

Only so she could get to work sooner and rid my lands of these weapon smugglers. No other reason. None. She would catch them, I'd get her back to her home and these frivolous feelings would end. I would continue to rule Autumn, she would do whatever she does, and our paths would never cross again. That is what I want.

Then why did the thought hurt so bad?

Tag list: @imma-too-many-fandoms @rcarbo1

Chapter 6

A/n: Hope you enjoyed, again, my sincerest apologies about the wait

[acourtofquestions]

“To the stars who listen, and the dreams that are answered.” “Still the image haunted his dreams; a lovely girl gazing at the stars, and the stars who gazed back.” “You could rattle the stars, if only you dared.”

credits: art Jana Runn (JanaRunneck), quotes Sarah J. Maas

[boasamishipper]

tagged by @film-in-my-soul and @icemankazansky - thanks guys!! ❤️❤️❤️

Everyone deserves to toot their own horn and be proud of their work! So, this tag game is fairly simple.

Promote 5 works that you're really proud of and share a little about why you're so proud of them! Then tag as many people as you like. You can reblog this post and add on to it (why not create a giant reclist to throw around?) or steal this header (and border if you like) and make your own post.

tagging @bornforastorm @lookforanewangle @apartmentsmoke @maverickcalf @saltyfilmmajor @hacash @academicgangster @onekisstotakewithme and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it

Make A Wrong One Right

Top Gun, Iceman Kazansky/Maverick Mitchell, Goose Bradshaw & Maverick Mitchell

Maverick makes a wish and wakes up thirty years in the past. He reacts accordingly.

I've written a lot of Top Gun fics (sixty-three, to be precise, which is insane all on its own) but this fic is far and away the one I'm most proud of. Not only did I get to throw in all my favorite things (angst with a happy ending!! time travel!! magical realism!! back to the future references!!), I got the chance to explore in a more subtle way just how much Mav loves Ice, and tackle fun existential questions like, Would you change the past if it meant you might lose the future you love? And I feel like I balanced all of the above and stuck the landing really well! (Honestly, the whole story was worth writing just for the bit in chapter three where Mav calls Ice 'baby' without thinking and Ice bluescreens so hard he drops what he's holding.)

there's a raging fire in my heart tonight

Top Gun&MCU, Iceman Kazansky/Maverick Mitchell, Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau, Carol Danvers & Iceman Kazansky, Iceman Kazansky & Tony Stark, MCU/Coherent Storytelling

“Carol, you can’t bring a civilian into this—” “Civilian?” The temperature in the room seems to drop twenty degrees as Ice steps forward, flinty-eyed and deadly serious. “I’m a captain. And I earned my rank, which is more than I can say for you, Rogers. Thanos killed my husband. You want to stop me from helping you out, you’re going to have to shoot me.” Silence stretches out, long and fraught with tension. Then Stark laughs out loud, and everyone turns to look at him. “What?” he says. “I like this guy.”

This was the first Top Gun fic I ever published, and the first Top Gun fic I wrote on my own. (At the time, I was working on baby, baby, i'd get down on my knees for you with the fantastic @academicgangster, without whom I never would have gotten into Top Gun or on the Tom Cruise train at all.) Naturally my first foray into this fandom ended up being this chaotic, complicated beast of a fic, where I wrote my faves Iceman Kazansky and Tony Stark and Carol Danvers side by side, fixed all my issues with Avengers: Endgame, and gave everyone the happy ending they deserved (especially after all the additional angst I put them through). I had a blast writing this fic and rambling about all the details with Cain (without her support this fic would never have left our tumblr DMs). There were a lot of plot points to juggle, and I managed to juggle them all. So though I've definitely grown as a writer in the (oh god) five years since, I still look back on this fic very fondly, and very proudly. And who knows, maybe someday I'll go back to this series and write more of Ice accidentally acquiring a son in Tony Stark and a granddaughter in Morgan. (Famous last words, I know.)

Judge Leon AU

Night Court (1984) / Night Court (2023), Dan Fielding/Harry Stone, Dan Fielding & Leon, Olivia Moore/Donna "Gurgs" Gurganous, Neil Valluri/Gabby

When his court-assigned public defender quits on his first night as an arraignment judge at Manhattan Criminal Court, Leon decides to reach out to his old foster father, Harry Stone, for advice. He finds Harry's widower, Dan Fielding, instead.

shot:

chaser:

I could not tell you for the life of me why the hands down angstiest fics I've ever written ended up being for an 80s sitcom whose plotlines include a ventriloquist's dummy committing suicide and my blorbo getting so horny he had to fuck a firehose about it, but here we are!! Over sixty-four thousand words later!!

In all seriousness, though, I'm extremely proud of this series. I have a lot of issues with New Night Court (I have a post in my drafts about that), namely that it lacks the edge and darkness that made the original so good, and this series gave me the opportunity to restore that edge and really make us feel Harry's loss, as well as the loss of almost all the other main cast members. I get to be goofy (a man holds the gang hostage on the advice of members of his favorite subreddit) and I get to be angsty (delve deeply into Dan's low self-worth and depression and grief post-Harry's death) and in all the spaces between, I get to write about how much Harry and Dan loved each other (and develop Leon and Dan's growing bond), and I do it all very, very well. (Certainly better than the NNC writers. Let me into the writers' room, guys!! Help me help you!!)

Austin Alone

9-1-1 Lone Star, Billy Tyson/Owen Strand

After the reopening of the 126, Billy and Owen give being friends with benefits a try. Inconvenient feelings ensue. / Season 3 AU, Owen-centric.

I co-wrote this fic with the lovely @lilalbatross while season 3 was still airing, and not only were we so in tune with the characters and the show that our fic accidentally predicted the future (exploration of Owen's abandonment issues! Owen getting trapped in a collapsed building!), but this fic set my standards so high that now the show can no longer reach it. (To be fair, this is largely because Lone Star decided to become the Tarlos and Wyatt Show above all else, but that's a rant for another day.) I'm proud as hell of this fic for a lot of reasons - I got Billy and Owen's voices down pat, put them in mortal peril that was realistic to the show, and wrote some banger lines of dialogue and prose that made me take honest to god victory laps around my house. The entirety of (the very long) chapter 6 might be some of my best work of all time.

For A Minute There I Lost Myself

Ted Lasso, Nathan Shelley & Original Male Character(s), Nathan Shelley & Ted Lasso, Nathan Shelley & Rupert Mannion

Nathan Shelley and the road to redemption.

[sigh] Really it's such a shame that Ted Lasso never got a season three and so we never got to see Nate grow and thrive at West Ham and bond with his players and stand up to Rupert and become more confident in himself and his ability as a coach and apologize to Ted and just in general have a redemption arc that was not centered on some random one-dimensional mean waitress or his ability to play the violin. But at least we have this fic!

I wrote FAMTILM for Yuletide in 2021. I'd never written Nate's POV before - all my Ted Lasso fics up to this point were about Sam and Dani - so I'm proud of myself for being able to capture the nuances of Nate's voice and write the slow growth of Nate's self-esteem and realization that he was in the wrong and his affection for his players (particularly Višnjić and Roubeni, who are in my top ten favorite OCs I've ever created). I'm also very proud of myself for taking what could have been a 30k word story and telling it just as well in under 8k, and writing a full Natedemption arc in less than a month that turned out to be ten times better than what Sudeikis and co accomplished in twelve bloated episodes.

[animezinglife]

Elucien and Calanmai Headcanon

Understandably, Calanmai is a sore subject for Lucien, though he does eventually feel compelled to resume emissary duties with Spring as Tamlin starts to get back on his feet and thinks it's best to at least make an appearance, but that they'll stay away from the actual events of the evening.

Elain doesn't let him out of her sight either way: not leading up to the night of, and not during. She holds his hand or takes his arm the instant she senses any tension arising in him, keeping him tethered to the present and reminding him she's there and that things will never happen the way they did again.

They stay in a small, private cottage during their visit and retreat to it early the night of Calanmai. Despite the celebration they can just make out in the distance, it's quiet there. Peaceful. Safe for them both.

Elain holds him that night, and he reveals to her the sense of shame he still feels over what happened. She listens quietly; lets him get it all out.

She reminds him it's not his fault; offers in her very Elain way that she's glad Ianthe is burning in Hell.

They choose to make a new memory once he's assured her he's okay to: one that's happy and theirs. For a while, they just lie together and kiss: lips, hair, jawline, and neck. That relief and feeling of safety turns into gentle lovemaking: both fully in the present and fully in control of the situation.

They fall asleep holding each other afterwards.

Little do they know another type of magic takes to them, and the next morning, Spring is flourishing and coming back to life. They emerge from their cottage blissful and happy, and Elain is shocked by the vibrant blooms that have sprung to life overnight: something to do with her gifts in nature and his in fire and light.

Lucien figures it out before she does.

When they arrive at Tamlin's manor later that morning, the High Lord of Spring is looking at them both like he hates his life (but in a funny way for once).

[milolunde]

If Fairy World oeprates on schooling and being tall enough for the job (ex. Cookie's Court; A New Wish) maybe Peri turned down dentistry because he was too short

[chelsea-lat3ly]

[darkphilosophies]

Fire Night

Eris Week Day 3: Fire

Fire Night 

Fire Night, was the most anticipated event of the year, a celebration of fire in all its forms and Eris stood at the heart of the festivities, his own flames dancing to the rhythm of the night.

The courtiers swirled around him, their masks concealing their faces, their bodies moving to the rhythm of the drums. Fire lanterns hung from the trees, casting a warm and flickering light upon the revelers. Musicians played their guitars, their music echoing through the night like a siren's call. 

The air was charged with magic, as if the very land itself was alive with anticipation for it was the night when the magic of the land was celebrated, when the bonfires were kindled, and the High Lord's power was replenished. It was a night for passion, a night when even the most reserved among them would let loose and dance in the shadows, their bodies entwined as they gave in to the sensations of the night.

Eris smiled beneath his mask, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. He knew the power he wielded on nights like this, and he reveled in it. He was the embodiment of the fire that burned within all of them, the flame that kindled their passions and their desires. And tonight, he would use that power to its fullest.

As the music grew louder, the rhythm of the drums beating in time with his own heart, Eris scanned the crowd. His gaze fell on a familiar figure, her red hair illuminated by the flames of the bonfire. Her emerald green eyes were sparkling with excitement, and her lips were curved into a smile that made his pulse race. She was a vision, her body draped in a gown of crimson that accentuated her curves.

Eris felt a wave of heat rush through him as he watched her. She was everything he desired, and he would do whatever it took to have her.

As the music continued, he moved through the crowd, his movements as graceful as a predator stalking its prey. The other courtiers stepped aside, their gazes full of admiration and awe as he passed by. Eris finally reached her, his eyes locked on hers. She looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat as she took in his tall, powerful frame. She was no fool, and she knew exactly who he was. But that didn't stop the hunger in her gaze as she met his eyes, a hunger that matched his own.

He held out his hand to her, his voice low and husky as he spoke. "Dance with me."

She didn't hesitate, her small hand slipping into his as she nodded. Eris drew her close, his arms wrapping around her as they began to move to the rhythm of the music. The air between them was electric, the heat of the fire and their desire crackling like a wildfire.

The other courtiers watched, entranced, as Eris and his prey moved together, their bodies entwined in a seductive dance. No one could tear their eyes away, the anticipation building as they waited for the inevitable moment when Eris would claim her.

Eris held her close, his body moving in perfect harmony with hers. She was intoxicating, her scent, her touch, her very presence drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He wanted her, needed her, and he would have her.

As the music reached a fevered pitch, Eris and the female became more daring, their bodies moving in an erotic dance that left no doubt as to their intentions. Eris could feel her desire, her need, and he knew she was his for the taking.

And so, as the music reached its climax, Eris took her in his arms, his lips claiming hers in a passionate kiss. He felt her respond instantly, her body molding against his as she kissed him back.

Eris  lifted her up and carried her away, he pushed her up against a tree, his lips moving to her neck as his hands roamed her body. She gasped, her head falling back as he kissed and licked her sensitive skin. Her body was responding to his touch, her nipples hardening against his chest as he pressed his body against hers.

Eris's fingers found the hem of her gown, pushing it up to reveal her creamy thighs. She moaned, her hands tangling in his hair as he caressed her skin. He could feel the heat between her legs, her desire for him obvious. He was more than ready to give her what she wanted, what they both wanted.

He pushed his hand between her legs and growled at what he found there. She was ready for him, her body aching for him. He couldn't wait any longer. He freed himself from his pants, his cock hard and ready.

"Please," she whispered, her voice full of need.

He didn't hesitate, his body thrusting into hers as they both cried out in pleasure. They were lost in each other, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony. The heat between them was unbearable, the need for release growing with each thrust.

Eris felt his pleasure mounting, his body craving the release only she could give him. He could feel her body responding, her pleasure growing as he moved within her.

"Yes," she moaned, her nails digging into his back as she urged him on.

He couldn't hold back any longer, his body giving in to the pleasure as he came inside her, his cock pulsing with each wave of ecstasy. She followed soon after, her body shuddering as she cried out, her pleasure almost too much to bear.

@erisweek2023

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXI

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: '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.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Elain held onto Lucien’s arm tightly, the small smile he flashed her just before he winnowed brought her a sense of calm. Gold light, warm like the rays of a summer sun, enveloped them both. 

The world scattered around Elain, colours and shapes falling apart only to come together once again as they reached their destination. Her head was spinning, still not entirely used to winnowing. She wondered if that unusual feeling would ever pass, if it would get better as the years trickled by. 

Lucien’s grip was firm, his steadiness not surprising to Elain, but she envied how certain he was over the control of his own magic. The dreams she was having of Lucien were troubling, her imagination running wild, she could barely look at him without wanting to reach out and touch him. She was, at the very least, glad that those dreams provided her a welcome reprieve from the others that plagued her. 

Endless night skies and bottomless lakes. 

Dying leaves and hands made of bone. 

Something was watching. 

Hiding. 

Waiting.

Elain could have shivered just thinking about the nightmares, and as grateful as she was over the fact that no visions tormented her while she was awake, she suspected the fragile hold she had on her abilities would surely snap eventually. She released a small sigh, no longer in denial about what was happening. 

Elain was in need of a distraction, so when Lucien had come to her after having spent the morning with his father and suggested they do something, anything, she was more than happy to join him. His shoulders had dropped with relief, his jaw had unclenched at her quick reply. They were more comfortable around each other, but there was still a bit of uncertainty underlying every one of their interactions. 

That uncertainty was being chipped away the more time they spent together, resentment falling into the rhythms of an honest friendship. Elain had come to the decision that she and Lucien had gone beyond just simple allies, and as she had taken off her mask, he had been more than willing to do the same. 

Elain liked Lucien. 

Getting to the point where she could even admit such a thing seemed like a step in the right direction, the dull pull of the mating bond muted now that they had grown closer. It no longer frustrated her, it simply existed, and slowly learning about Lucien was rewarding as she came to find out how well she knew him despite how little they had spoken in the last few years. 

Elain had guessed that he was desperate to get away from the Forest House, and that as long as there was some distance between himself and the rest of his family, Lucien would allow himself a moment to unwind. 

She had felt him, just as surely as she could feel the ground beneath her feet. Lucien had been on the brink of panic, his anxiety echoing in her skull, and Elain had wanted to reassure him. She willed as much, and it was done. The bond, no matter that it had not yet been accepted, was as gentle as any lover’s caress as Elain reached out towards Lucien with nothing but her thoughts. 

As Elain began to take in their new surroundings, the bridge connecting their two souls was quiet, like the break of dawn, peaceful. 

The gentle breeze was cool against her cheeks, the afternoon sun high in the sky. Autumn was striking in its beauty, ancient and lovely, and the Forest House had been interesting, but it did not compare to the court’s capital city. 

Elain and Lucien were standing on one of the many winding stone paths, young trees planted along the edges to reveal the countless storefronts. Faeries were going about their business, some walking around leisurely while others winnowed in a burst of sparks. 

Elain felt her lips part in awe, amazed that she had lived in Prythian for years and had yet to visit a city outside of the Night Court. 

“You alright?” Lucien asked, checking on her after winnowing a few times to reach their destination. 

Elain hummed in response, nodding absently. 

Hollowed tree trunks had windows and doors, and Elain realised people actually lived in them. A faerie with wings opened her shutters to water the hanging pots along the sill. Small children ran past them, laughing, careless. 

“Lucien,” she started, a breathless edge to her voice, “Lucien, this city is beautiful.” She tilted her head up towards him, his warm smile a welcome sight. 

“I haven’t come in decades,” he admitted, russet eye bright, the golden one whirring softly. 

Had Lucien not revealed the information to her, Elain would have assumed he came often. He walked along the streets with the confidence of someone who was at ease, like he was home. 

Elain adjusted her hold on him, letting her palm trail along his arm before she reached for his hand. As she laced their fingers together, she felt surprise shoot down the bond before it was replaced with a feeling of content. Elain bit her lip at her own boldness, she knew a blush had bloomed along her cheeks. She was glad Lucien said nothing, or else she might have pulled away from him in embarrassment. 

Lucien led Elain towards the city square, where booths had been set up, various items being sold at each one. Small, triangular, burnt-orange flags were attached to long strings and hung between the buildings, reminding Elain of a festival she and her sisters had gone to as small girls. Their father had bought them each a gift; books for Nesta, a set of paint brushes for Feyre, and a potted plant for Elain. She could still remember the little sunflower, how she had placed it by the window in her bedroom. It had been Elain’s first, and she smiled at the memory as Lucien bought them both an apple tart. 

Everyone clearly knew who Lucien was, but no one approached or treated them any differently. Unlike when Rhysand and Feyre walked the streets of Velaris, those in Autumn seemed to make a great effort to mind their business and avoid looking in the direction of the High Lord’s son. Elain wondered if it was because the Vanserra family scared them, but having spent some time in the court, she assumed it was simply them trying to be polite. 

As they walked, Lucien explained what some of the vendors were selling and provided Elain with some much needed insight on Autumn’s unique culture. She took in all of the information happily, enjoying the way her mate seemed to glow as he spoke about something from his childhood. 

“It’s strange being away from the Forest House,” Elain offered as Lucien walked from the city square down a much quieter street. She held a bag of maple syrup candies in her hand, savouring the sweet and salty taste as she popped another one in her mouth. 

Lucien’s eyes tracked the movement and she tried to ensure she did not blush at his attention. He shrugged, doing the same, before he asked, “Good strange?” 

Elain nodded, casting a glance around them as she replied. “Amazing.”

Lucien grinned down at her, his expression full of pride. “I haven’t come since before Amarantha,” he held Elain’s hand tightly as he helped her down a few steps, she clutched her skirts, slippers flashing. “Glad to see that nothing’s really changed.” 

The part of the city they were now in seemed older to Elain, smaller houses made of stone separated shops and restaurants, the trees were taller, looking as though they were holding up the sky. Elain could not be sure how much time had passed, but the sun was slowly beginning to set. The horizon was a mix of orange, yellow, and red, perfectly matching the leaves that continued to fall. 

Lucien’s golden eye clicked as a grin broke across his handsome features and he steered Elain towards a building. He had clearly been looking for it, Elain realised, his voice holding a restrained eagerness as he spoke. “Want to see some Autumn Court magic?” 

Elain breathed a short laugh. “You don’t even have to ask,” she replied, his childlike attitude at the prospect of showing her a little piece of his life was infectious. 

Lucien pushed a carved wooden door open, a bell announcing their presence, and held it for Elain so she could pass. She gripped her skirts as she entered, surprised at the sudden burst of heat in the small space. It was like walking into an oven, a stark contrast to the cool air outside. Her mate followed a moment later, but Elain was too distracted to pay him any mind, especially as a large faerie on the room’s opposite end put unprotected hands into a roaring fire. 

Elain gasped, but her concern was short lived as the man called out without looking in their direction. “We’re closed.” 

Lucien seemed completely undeterred as he glanced around. “Even for an old friend, Castor?” He placed a hand low on Elain’s back and she leaned into his casual touch. 

The blacksmith turned with no urgency, leaving the glowing piece of metal in his hands onto a stone counter. He raised a dark brow, wiping his fingers on an already stained apron. “My eyes must be deceiving me,” he said, and Elain noticed they were a striking shade of red, unlike any eyes she had ever seen. 

Castor walked around the counter, hand outstretched and Lucien pulled the other man close for an embrace. Elain was fully aware he had friends in the court he had been raised in, but she could not help but be a bit surprised that his former acquaintances were not strictly Forest House nobles and high fae. 

Castor’s accent was less sharp than the one she had begun to associate with Autumn, but it was just as lovely. “Mother, it’s been a century about, hasn’t it?” 

“Not that long,” Lucien replied with a laugh, gesturing for Elain to come over. “Thought I’d bring my mate to the city, show her around.” 

Despite the other man’s massive size, he shook Elain’s hand gently, tilting his chin in a small bow. “And you bring the poor girl here?” He was shaking his head, clicking his tongue as he addressed her. “The eastern territories are much nicer.” 

“Guess I’ll force him to take me there next,” Elain smiled and she saw a dark blush stain his light brown cheeks as she spoke. “I’m Elain,” she introduced, not bothering with last names or titles. 

“What can I do for you?” He asked, back to business, gesturing around his forge. Elain was instantly drawn to the battle axes leaning against the wall, although they were all probably much too heavy for her to lift. 

Lucien scrunched his nose, “I was hoping to show Elain some of our more interesting Autumn magic, maybe buy myself a dagger.” 

Castor huffed a laugh. “More knives? I suppose you haven’t changed all that much.” He faced Elain, amusement lining his handsome features. “Eris used to drag your poor mate here to watch me make weapons, he’d sit right on the counter, legs crossed, the most well behaved youngling I’d ever seen.” He shook his head at the memory, and Elain could imagine it clearly. She knocked her shoulder playfully against Lucien’s arm. 

“Eris swears I was a little monster,” Lucien laughed, thinking about some of the better times in his past, Elain was sure. 

“Your brother’s a liar,” Castor waved a hand dismissively, “I should know.” He flashed Elain a shy smile, another blush on his cheeks as he made his way behind the counter once more. “Take a look around,” he offered, “let me finish the blade I was working on and I’ll be right with you.” He was doing it for her benefit, surely, and Elain was glad he was taking the time to do so. She had not expected kindness in the Autumn Court, but was increasingly surprised by how much she liked spending time in a place she had been convinced she would despise. 

Elain watched with fascination as Castor forged the long piece of metal into a sword. Time passed, but she could not be sure how much. He explained in great detail what he was doing, and she enjoyed the small lesson. Lucien told her about the history of blacksmiths in Autumn, declaring with great confidence that they had the best metalworkers in all of Prythian. Elain believed him, unsure how anyone could be more talented than those who possessed flame in their blood. 

Once Castor had finished with the sword, Lucien took Elain to a shelf with daggers, asking for her opinion on which one was nicest. She chose one with diamonds along the silver hilt, surprised at how easily her mate encouraged her to swipe at the air with it, doing the same afterwards when he told her to lift one of the battle axes she had been eying. 

The genuine encouragement shocked her momentarily. Elain could not imagine her family allowing her to even touch one in Night. She did not like violence, but she had always been charmed by things that were lovely. 

“You forged all of these?” Elain asked Castor, forgetting herself entirely as she dropped to her knees in front of a particularly beautiful axe. She imagined swinging it at Beron, at how absurd it would have been to any onlookers. She could admit that it would have solved the problem with her and Lucien’s ever more quickly approaching wedding. She traced the ancient writing on the silver, making sure to keep her fingers away from the sharp edge. Castor hummed his response, and Elain smiled back at him. “They’re very pretty.” 

“If you like the axe so much, I can buy it for you,” Lucien offered, she could hear the joke in his tone, feel the amusement that trickled down the bond. Elain would not have been able to lift the axe in front of her even if all their lives depended on it. 

“Maybe next time,” Elain said with a smile, gripping Lucien’s outstretched hand to stand up. She straightened her skirts as Lucien paid for his dagger, and Elain figured it was probably getting late. 

Castor wished them well, ordering them to return again and to tell Eris to show his face in the city more often. As they walked out of the blacksmith’s shop, Elain waved, hoping they would be back soon. It was almost surprising that she would want such a thing, especially since when she imagined returning, Lucien was at her side. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, deciding it would be best to examine it at a different time. 

“You up for one last stop?” Lucien asked, offering her his arm like a perfect gentleman. 

Elain hooked her elbow through his, smiling as she nodded her head. 

Once again, he led her through quieter streets, and now that the sun was just about ready to hide behind the horizon, torches slowly sparked to life as faeries rushed home for the evening. 

Lucien turned a corner and Elain would have stopped in her tracks to marvel at the sight in front of them had he not continued his steady steps forward. 

There were no more shops and houses, no more people, only endless forest. Different types of trees created a thick maze, one Elain would not have dared approach otherwise. It was ancient, thrumming with a magic she recognised as belonging to Lucien, to his family. 

The path they were walking on was lined with jewelweed and it did not end until it reached a fountain carved from pale stone, the last faerie-made object before Autumn overtook her line of sight. 

It was romantic, so thoughtful. No one had ever done anything so kind for her, certainly not anyone she had been courting. She had to remind herself that Lucien was doing no such thing, that they were simply good friends spending a day together. 

Water fell from each layer of stone, but it looked like burnished gold, like something out of a story. She could not help the breathless “oh” that fell from her lips, moving away from her mate and towards the fountain. 

“From the coins,” Lucien explained. “One wish in exchange for a mark made of gold.” With a flash of his sunbright magic, two coins appeared in his hand and he offered them to her with a little bow at the waist. 

Elain was so unbelievably grateful for the effort he had gone to in order to show her the place he had been raised in, her heart was pounding as her eyes fell to the male she had never wanted as her mate. 

My mate. 

Elain did not reach for the coins, she simply got onto the tips of her toes. Placing her hand on Lucien’s shoulder to keep her balance, she heard as the breath caught in his throat, she felt as shock filtered down the bond. 

Elain pushed aside her nerves, let her eyes flutter shut, as she gently pressed her lips to the corner of Lucien’s mouth. She was not yet bold enough to take the things she wanted, her upbringing warring with instinct. 

“Lucien,” she said softly as his one hand came to rest on her waist. She kissed him again, in the same spot, feeling the scar that cut through his full bottom lip. She urged him to take control, pressed herself entirely against him. He was familiar and she was struck with the feeling that she had known him in a different life, that the fates existed and she would have found a way to meet Lucien under any circumstances. 

Lucien’s hand fell to her hip and he brushed his mouth against hers. Elain wrapped an arm around his neck, the taste enough to make her release a whimper. She could hardly remember the last time anyone had made her feel good about herself, confident. 

Elain returned the kiss, starved for her mate, desperate to be closer to him. She traced the seam of his lips with the smallest flick of her tongue, pulling away as pure desire roared through her veins. Unable to face Lucien just yet, she put her face against his chest, and he hugged her in return. 

“Today was really nice,” she murmured, an understatement. She would remember the day they had spent together for the rest of her immortal life, would look back on it fondly, with no regrets. Elain felt as he hummed in response, the sound ringing in her ears. “Thank you,” she added. 

“You still want to make your wish?” Lucien asked, his voice strained. Elain smiled at the effect she seemed to have on him, glad that it was at least mutual. 

She moved away, letting her fingers trail along his shoulder before she reached for the gold coins he held out for her. His heart was beating rapidly, the rhythm matching her own. 

Elain took the one coin, still not meeting his eyes. She tucked a stray curl behind her pointed ear, biting her lip. “What should I wish for?” 

“For whatever you like,” he replied with an elegant shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone after.” He tossed the golden mark, and Elain’s ears strained to hear the sound of it hitting the water. She was curious as to what he might have wished for, but she knew the superstition and feared he would simply tell her if she asked him to share. 

Elain took a deep breath, considering her wish carefully. She hoped Lucien and her could return to the city, that they could spend more time together exploring the Autumn Court. 

Elain traced the rim of the coin with her finger, confident in her wish. She could feel Lucien’s eyes on her as she threw it towards the fountain. 

Elain watched as the coin seemed to flash in the light of the setting sun, falling into the gentle stream of water, golden like the bridge that connected her soul to Lucien’s.  

[fourteentrout]

Fire Night sketchy sketch

Not entirely proud of it but hey I was trying something new

[azrielsshadows42]

A Court of Scales and Fire III

Eris Vanserra x Female oc

A/n: so, chapter 3, uhhh, not much to say except there is not alot of Eris in this one, but more of the friendship between Cassian and Y/n, not alot of Everest either.

Note: I couldn't think of a way to integrate this naturally in the story so, Imma just say it here: Everest can increase and decrease in size. By how much? idk yet, we'll figure it out together.

Pronunciations: Eletheria-> El-leh-th-air-ree-ah, Remiel-> Reh-meal, Rajani-> Rah-jah-n-eye, Penitent-> Pen-ni-tint, Amari-> a-maar-ree

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of utm

Word Count: 2.8k Chapter 2 Character Moodboards

Bold + Italics = Mind speak (colour will change depending on who is speaking)

Bold = Ancient language

---Y/n's Pov---

Cassian held me in his arms as he flew us across the forest of the middle. It had been about ten minutes since we'd first lifted off and we hadn't covered much ground. "So, you are from the Night Court, right? And that's where we're going?" I asked looking at him, he looked to be in deep thought, but my question brought him out of his head. "Yes, is that a problem?" Cassian questioned, sincerely wanting to know if that would work for me. For being my almost would be capturer, he's really nice. "No, just, remind me where that is, and perhaps an estimate of how long it will take us to get there, my mission is kinda time sensitive"

He nodded in understanding, then looked up in thought. "Well, the Night Court is the northern most territory of Prythian, so... a while?" I turned the information over in my head for a bit, if memory serves me right, he was telling the truth, but wasn't there this teleportation thing fae people could do here? What was it called? Willowing? Maybe not everyone could do it, or maybe you can only do it for yourself, like you can't take other people with you.

"So, what is this mission of yours anyway? "Cassian quizzed, more to pass the time then for actual interrogation, if his casual tone was anything to judge by. "Just, tracking some fae who made questionable life choices" I sort of side-stepped the question, more so I wouldn't have to repeat myself when we got to our destination. He chuckled at my answer. "Were you sent on this mission alone or-" "Yep" I interrupted him, and I almost winced, I said that way too fast. There was a long stretch of awkward silence between us, only his wing beats and the air whipping around us filled the void.

It started to become downright unpleasant, I needed to say something. "What are you?" I blurted out, Cauldrons what is wrong with me? "I'm an Illyrian" Cassian responds a little confusedly "No, no I meant like, what's your occupation, what do you do for a living?" He stays quiet for a bit, probably thinking how much he should reveal, understandable. "I'm the night court's general" I laughed, man that's funny. He just stared at me, not saying anything "I- What? ...Oh, you're serious? damn" He then laughs as well "Why is that so surprising?" he says with a smile "I think I'm quite intimidating"

"Well...." I trailed off in a high-pitched tone, he gasped in mock offence. "How dare you, I am very intimidating, and I embody the position of General, thank you very much" I stifled my laughter. "You've definitely got the build of a general, it's just, the authoritative tone that strikes fear into the soldiers that hear it is lacking" He huffed and turned his head away with a slight pout. At least he could take a joke, I was starting to like him more and more.

He opened his mouth, about to say some sort of light-hearted retort when he suddenly stopped and looked ahead again. "What's wrong?" what had happened in the three seconds between playful banter and rigid shoulders? Cassian doesn't answer, I go on high alert, if he drops me, I know Everest will be there waiting, she won't let me fall, but then he'd know of her existence, and I don't trust him enough for that.

He glances at me, like I'm something that's going to get him in trouble, and quickly looks ahead again. What the hell? after a few more seconds of silence, he speaks, "That was Rhysand checking in, he says he'll send Mor to come pick us up, get us to the Night Court a lot faster." I do not know who either of those people are, but the name Rhysand sounds familiar, like I definitely should remember it. "How?"

"Mor can winnow" Huh? she's a widow? How is that supposed to help us? He must have read the confusion on my face because he then clarified: "She's going to teleport us there" Ohhhh, she can Willow, that makes much more sense than her being a widow.

He slowly descends into the forest, though we seem to be on the outskirts seeing as the trees had thinned out significantly. Once we landed, Cassian gently put me down. Dark mist appeared in front of us for a split second, then they were gone, and in their place stood an absolutely gorgeous high fae in a maroon dress and red lipstick, gold jewellery adorned her wrists and pointed ears. This female is so beautiful, I might just change my sexuality. Gold hair ran over her shoulders in waves. I am certain her hair is what mating bonds are made of.

"Rhysand told me we'd have a guest" she says, directed to Cassian, I knew I was staring, and it's rude, and I should definitely stop but holy shit, I wish I could pull that kind of dress off, the kind that hugs your curves with a slit up to your thigh. She then turns to me "Hi, I'm Morrigan, but just call me Mor, everyone does." I realise that now is the perfect time to break out of my staring "I'm Y/n" She smiles at me. "Well, Y/n, are you ready to see the Night Court" her eyes shone with pride at the mention of her home "Not in the slightest, lead the way!" I respond which earns a small giggle from her. "Cassian, c'mon, or we're leaving you" He makes his way toward us. "Fair warning, there's going to be a long drop" Cassian says to me. "I can handle it" They both look at each other with raised eyebrows but don't comment. "If you're sure"

---Cassian's Pov---Before landing---

"You've definitely got the build of a general, it's just, the authoritative tone that strikes fear into the soldiers that hear it is lacking" I incredulously huffed and turned my head away from her with a fake pout. I'm about to inform her that my voice most definitely does strike fear into any disrespectful soldiers when Rhysand's mental claws scraped down my shields.

It has been more than half an hour since you last checked in Cassian His voice invades my head, sounding a little peeved.

Aww, did you miss me? I could feel the mental eyeroll he sent to me, clearly annoyed by my lack of guilt for not updating him.

Have you found anything? I heard Y/n ask me something, but I didn't catch what, focusing on making sure Rhysand didn't get too frustrated with the results.

You could say that I replied, glancing at the female in my arms because yes, I had found something, it just was not what he was expecting.

Cassian, I don't like the sound of that, what are you trying to say? I could feel her body tense as I continued to ignore her questioning.

I'm saying you should expect some extra company. He sighed deeply.

I'm sending Mor to winnow you, and our new guest here, then I expect an explanation. His voice left my mind, and I turned towards Y/n, her jaw tense, eyes scanning my expression. "That was Rhysand checking in" I explained "He says he'll send Mor to come pick us up, get us to the Night Court a lot faster" I searched for a place to land, which was much easier to find now that we weren't in the heart of a forest. "How?" She inquired, her body relaxing slightly. "Mor can winnow" Y/n looked confused by that. "She's going to teleport us there" She nodded in understanding.

When I landed, Mor was already waiting for us, Y/n was gawking at her, quite obviously, and it took all my self-control to resist laughing. Mor's eyes fixed on me, a hint of amusement shone in them. "Rhysand told me we'd have a guest" I smiled at her a little guiltily and shrugged. They exchanged introductions, then prepared to winnow to the house of wind. "Cassian, c'mon, or we're leaving you" Mor waves me over, just as I get to them, I remember something. "Fair warning, there's going to be a long drop"

Y/n shrugs one shoulder, casually responding "I can handle it". Mor and I regard each other sceptically before facing her again, eventually, Mor relents. "If you're sure"

She places a hand on both of our shoulders, then the world warped, and the stomach-turning sensation of winnowing overcame us. Quick flashes of the territories zoomed by as we went, reaching the house in a matter of seconds. I instinctively caught Mor before she fell, my wings flaring out to catch the wind and slow our descent. Y/n plummeted straight down, but she spread out her arms and legs, increasing her surface area, then transferred the gravitational energy to momentum once she hit the ground, seamlessly falling into a forward roll and standing up again like nothing happened. She turned on her heels toward us, a smile on her face, I had to say, I was impressed, not many could pull off something like that, especially not that smoothly, come to think of it, she also had no problems while we were flying despite how far she could have fallen, she must be used to hights.

Once Mor and I had joined her on the roof, we went inside. Everyone was right there waiting for us, Feyre sitting on the couch, Rhysand standing behind her, Nesta was on the other side, leg crossed over the other, her latest smut novel in hand, nose buried deep, and Azriel stood in the corner, shadows perched on his shoulders. Amren sat on the love seat, so short her head didn't even reach the top of the back rest

Feyre stood from her seat, Rhysand followed, only stopping once he was beside his mate. "Welcome to the Night Court, I am Rhysand, and this is my mate, Feyre" Feyre smiled kindly at Y/n. "That's Amren, my second in command, Azriel, my spymaster and Nesta, Cassian's mate" Rhysand introduced the rest of the inner circle, gesturing to each of them as he said their names. "Who are you?"

"I am Y/n, Y/n L/n"

"Well, Y/n, please follow me"

--- Time Skip ---

Rhysand brought us to the dining room, all of us took a seat, She sat at the edge of the table, I placed myself next to Y/n while Mor sat opposite of her. There was some food placed on the table, light snacks to pick on, everyone else picked off of the plates occasionally, but after what happened I was starving, eating almost two entire platters by myself. Light conversation had been passed around the table, Y/n mostly stayed quiet, just listening. Rhysand interlocked his fingers in front of him, leaning his fore arms on the table. The questioning was about to begin.

"Y/n, where are you from?" A nice easy question to start, nothing harsh, but will also tell us if she's from Hybern or one of their allies. "I'm from Eletheria" We all looked around at each other, none of us, not even Az or Amren, knew where that was. "It is a sub-territory of Rask" The atmosphere became tense, every one of us knew that well Rask hadn't joined Hybern in the war, they were inclined to do so. "Rumour of Hybern planning a war to gain humans as slaves again had been floating around for over a century, it created a divide within the population of Rask. Some believed that Hybern was right, and we should ally ourselves with him, others, including King Rajani's brother, disagreed.

Decades of debates and small bouts of civil war resulted in the land being divided, Eletheria gained full independence just over six years ago, with his brother, Remiel, as King." She explained.

The entire inner circle let out a discrete collective sigh of relief, they had not invited an enemy into their home. "If it gained independence over six years ago, why have we not heard of it?" Mor asked with nothing but curiosity, it seemed I'm not the only one who thinks we can trust her. "The King of Rask was not particularly pleased with having to give up some of his power and land, so he has kept quiet about it. More and more refugees are crossing the border, so King Remiel has been occupied with increasing good infrastructure for people to live in. He has not had time to concern himself with putting us on the official map, which is probably a good thing, as to not make Eletheria a target."

Rhysand nodded, agreeing with her statement. "Why are you here, in Prythian?" All eyes fixed upon Y/n, what he really wanted to ask was 'why were you under the mountain?' but this question was safer, in the event that she didn't know what had happened with Amarantha, we would have to explain the fifty years of chaos, and nobody wanted to do that. "I am on a mission for the King"

"What kind of mission?" Az asked, the first words he'd said since we'd arrived. "One of the most abundant gemstones in Eletheria is Opals, recently we have discovered a new vein of them, though these are no regular stones. They have properties, similar to that of the Illyrian siphons, they can store magic. Upon further research, two different types have been found, Amari, and Penitent. It has been revealed that Penitent opals become unstable once imbued, and after one took out half the research facility it was in, an order was sent out to collect them, so no more damage could be done. Most fae gave them over willingly. However, a group of illegal weapon smugglers found out about the opals, about what they could do.

They began hoarding and stealing any stock they could find. An informant told us that a shipment of opals was sent here. It's my job to find them and return all of the stolen opals back to the crown for safe keeping"

I guess that would explain why this was time sensitive. "Two days ago, in the south, between summer and autumn, there was a power surge, would you know anything about that?" Amren interrogated, piercing eyes locked on her like predator and prey. Her words were accusing, I almost wanted to wince at the tone.

Y/n, to her credit showed no signs of discomfort, she looked up thoughtfully, pondering the question. "When I first got here, I found one of the temporary camps I suspect they used, there was only one fae present left to cover their tracks. In his attempt to get rid of me, he set of one of the opals, that might have caused the short power surge you speak of" Amren did not look convinced but refrained from pushing the matter any further.

It was Feyre who spoke next "Mor will show you to your room for the night, feel free to make yourself at home, and don't be afraid to ask for anything" Mor and Y/n stood from the table "Thank you, High Lady" She dipped her head in respect. "Please, call me Feyre" She nodded, then followed Mor down the hall to the guest bedrooms. Once they were out of earshot, I asked "So, how are we gonna help?"

"I'm not sure we should" Azriel admitted, looking toward Cassian. "What do you mean? Of course we should help her!" My voice was filled with incredulity. It just makes sense to help her, so why wouldn't we? "I'm with Cassian on this this one, this could affect us to, dangerous weapons in the wrong hands is not something we need to deal with, we have enough on our plate, better to stop it now before it gets out of hand" Feyre added. She studied Rhysands face to see if he agreed with her statement.

Rhysand considered this for a moment. "Her story makes sense, and if she is telling the truth, then Feyre's right, but she could be lying, especially if she is from a place that's just gained independence, she might be here as a spy to find weaknesses should they ever need it."

I hated to admit that he had a point, but I just feel like we can trust her. I sighed "So what are we going to do?" My eyes fell on Rhysand's violet ones, but he didn't meet my gaze. "We keep an eye on her until we know for certain she is telling the truth, for now, be aware of what you say around her, try not to talk about anything that could be used against us." We dispersed to our respective places, Rhysand, Feyre and Amren returning to their homes, while Az and I went to our rooms, Nesta made her way from the table to the couch and continued reading.

A/n: So, this chapter was supposed to be twice as long as it is, but I need to post an update so, here you go.

Chapter 4

Tag List: @imma-too-many-fandoms , @rcarbo1

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

[acourtofquestions]

LOL😂I’ve been on such an Assassin’s Blade kick that I’ve started typing “Cort” instead of “Court”… 🤦‍♀️ like A Court of Thorns and Roses but instead it’s like Sam CORTland🤣