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littlest-w01f · 3 months ago

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Young

Elain Archeron

For @elainarcheronweek

Elain Week 2024 Masterlist

Day 7: Growth

Summary: Elain gets a chance to talk to her younger self after she loses herself to her magic

Cw: None

The air around her hummed with energy, tingling against her skin as if it were alive. Elain sighed softly, feeling the familiar sensation that always accompanied her moments of clarity. It was a strange, almost euphoric rush of knowledge and insight that left her breathless every time.

Elain was lost, wandering through her visions. She had been here before, but each time, it felt different. Her hands shook slightly as she clutched the ancient tome, its pages filled with mysterious symbols that seemed to flicker and dance.

The room before Elain shimmered, warping and distorting as if reality itself was bending to accommodate her request. She felt a shiver run down her spine as the air seemed to thicken, becoming harder to breathe. The colors around her grew more vibrant, the edges blurring until she could no longer discern where one ended and another began.

A soft glow emanated from the centre of the swirling vortex, coalescing into the form of a young girl with large, curious eyes that mirrored Elain's own. Her hair was darker, still holding onto the faint wisps of black that would eventually fade to a rich chestnut brown. The girl wore a simple white dress, its hem brushing against the floor, and looked up at Elain with discomfort etched across her delicate features.

"Mother?" The child asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Why do I have to wear this?"

The voice she distinctly remembered as her mother's spoke from behind her, "Because Elain, you don't compete with Nesta, she's bolder, and has a much better chance with the Lord that you. You will only creat a distraction."

Elain watched as the ghostly image of her younger self stared back at her with wide, innocent eyes. Her heart clenched painfully at the sight of her reflection, feeling a pang of longing for those simpler times when life had been uncomplicated by grief and responsibility. The words echoing through the ethereal void were familiar - harsh reminders of how she'd been pushed aside so that Nesta could take center stage.

The girl tugged at the hem of her dress, clearly uncomfortable in such formal attire. "But why? I just want to dance," she pleaded softly, looking over at Elain with puppy-dog eyes full of unshed tears.

"You know you're not meant for this kind of life, Nesta is better than yo-"

"Hey, look at me," Elain knelt down in front of her younger self, "Look at me... Nothing she says matters."

Elain took a deep breath, steadying herself as she knelt down to meet the gaze of her younger self. There was something about seeing herself reflected back in those innocent eyes that brought forth a surge of determination within her. Despite everything she had endured since then, despite every hardship thrown at her, here she stood – still fighting for what mattered most.

"Listen to me," Elain said firmly but gently, trying to project an aura of confidence and strength that would resonate with the younger version of herself. "Nothing she says matters anymore because it's not true."

She reached out a hand towards the younger Elain who hesitantly placed hers into hers. A sense of warmth enveloped them both as they touched; it felt like electricity coursing through their veins - tangible proof that they shared something profound beyond mere genetics or biology.

"Who are you?" The young girl tilted her head.

Elain smiled, "I'm you, sweetheart..."

"I'm you…" Elain repeated softly, marvelling at how comforting those words sounded when spoken aloud. She felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over her as she held onto the small hand of her younger self, feeling the delicate bones beneath her fingers.

Her heart swelled with pride and love for this little girl who carried within her the potential for greatness. It pained Elain to think about how much pain and suffering lay ahead for this precious soul, all because destiny had deemed it necessary to be the female she was now.

"But why am I wearing this stupid dress?" The child interrupted Elain's thoughts with a frown pulling at her lips.

Elain's sigh carried a hint of melancholy as she gazed down at the ornate gown adorning her younger self. The intricate embroidery and fine silk fabric were a testament to the wealth and status of the house. Still, to Elain, they represented confinement and restriction, a constant reminder of the expectations placed upon her. And the fancy thing was impractical to be gardening in.

"It's not a stupid dress, sweetie," she corrected gently, "It's just not made for you." Elain's thumb brushed tenderly over the girl's knuckles, seeking to impart wisdom and reassurance. "This life isn't yours. You were meant for so much more than being a pawn in someone else's game." As she spoke, Elain felt the weight of her own experiences settling upon her shoulders once more.

"Why do you have pointy ears?" She asked surprised, her eyes trailing the Faerie ears her future self had.

Elain chuckled softly, finding solace in the simplicity of her younger self's curiosity. The innocence reflected in those big doe-eyes was something she cherished deeply - it reminded her of who she used to be before fate had dealt its cruel hands over and over again.

"I've got pointy ears," Elain said proudly, pushing back strands of hair from her face to reveal the pair of elegant fae ears peeking out from underneath. "That's because we become High Fae."

Despite the gravity of their situation, there was something undeniably charming about watching awe spark in those bright eyes as they gazed upon Elain's pointed Fae ears for the first time. It warmed Elain's heart to see how fascinated this version of herself was by even such a mundane detail to her now. "Do you want to touch them?"

"Yeah..." The little Elain moved to grab the ears, gently feeling them, then she asked, "Laine, do we become prettier than Nesta? Do we get to dance with a Lord?"

"We don't compete with Nesta or Feyre for mother treating us wrong anymore. We stopped feeling small too. We stopped feeling small and insignificant because we realized that our worth wasn't defined by others." Elain sighed, nuzzling her face into her younger hands, she had long let go of the silent contempt their mother had put in her for Nesta, always comparing them and making Nesta be on top, of how she was nothing, could do nothing while Feyre was their sole provider, how she amounted to nothing, she had stuck by Nesta because she delivered all the verbal blows, they had long apologized and worked to fix everything, even if there were times she wondered how she could've been better. "And yes, we go get to dance with plenty Lords."

As Elain looked into the soft brown eyes of her younger self, she heard a voice behind her, "Elain! Elain!"

Elain gasped awake, she looked around the bright room, blinking her focus and her legs were on Nesta's lap, her sister was holding onto her hands in a death grip while Feyre held her shoulders. Before she could say anything Nesta and Feyre hugged her tightly.

"Feyre?" Elain stood up, and as she did, her younger self disappeared. "Is that you?"

"Elain come with me," Elain felt as if she was being dragged through her mind, Feyre's daemati abilities, Elain let her.

"What... What happened?" Elain asked, a little lightheaded.

"Oh that bitch," Nesta swore as she looked over Elain, "That witch! She gave you this poison..."

"I don't... Don't remember..." Elain slumped back into Feyre's arms.

"Rhys said it was your powers that led you to a hut in Illyria to a witch, she was seeking you out for some reason." Feyre said softly, massaging Elain's shoulders, "The poison trapped you into your own mind, making you halucinate."

"Are you hurt?" Nesta asked, holding onto her hands a little softer.

Elain smiled softly, "Not really... It was nice... Like really nice... I liked it." She leaned back on Feyre and Nesta rested her head on her shoulders, both the sisters holding onto their middle one tightly.

{General Taglist - @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo}

#elainarcheronweek2024 #elainweek2024 #elain acheron #acotar #acotar series #acosf #acowar #acomaf #elain archeron #pro elain #elain acotar #elain fluff #elain acosf #elain kingslayer #archeron sisters #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #feyre acotar #nesta acotar

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tswaney17 · 3 months ago

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Elain & Azriel Weeks 2024

Elain Week

Day 1: Visions

Day 2: Hope

Day 3: Strength

Day 4: Home

Day 5: Connections

Day 6: Passions

Day 7: Growth

Azriel Week

Day 1: Cool Quiet

Day 2: Scarred

Day 3: Belonging

Day 4: Paid Time Off

Day 5: No Need for Poetry

Day 6: Song of the Wind

Day 7: Free

#elain archeron #elain #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #elainarcheronweek2024 #elainarcheronweek #elain archeron week #elain week 2024 #azrielappreciationweek2024 #azrielweek2024 #azrielweek #azriel week 2024 #azriel appreciation week #elain moodboard #azriel moodboard

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readychilledwine · 3 months ago

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What Else Can I Do?

Elain Archeron Week - Day 7 - Growth

Summary - Elain's gentleness may have been her biggest hang up, and one moment of anger may prove to be the turning point in which Sister is the strongest.

Warnings - A little of both ships, a little mystery

A/n - Alas, @elainarcheronweek has come to an end. I think Elain's growth is going to happen outside of the Night Court. I think Lucien will be part of it no matter where her story goes. And while I have an idea of how I'd like ir to go, and Elain losing her mind over necklace-gate should ABSOLUTELY be the catalyst.

🌸Elain Masterlist🌸Master Masterlist🌸

Rhysand moved from his spot where he had protected Nyx and Feyre from whatever had just happened.

Trees moved from their place, the ground shaking, animals just gone. Elain was trembling where she stood, a blue shield protecting not her, but Gwyn, Emerie, and Azriel. A similar red one guarding Nesta and Cassian.

She had learned of the necklace. The stupid necklace Azriel had lifted her, or, well, Gwyn it would seem. Azriel had been taking the lecture from Elain and Gwyn silently, nodding to confirm he had messed this up. The soft apologies he gave had not soothed the ache Elain felt in her heart, it hadn't been the balm for her that it had for Gwyn.

In a flash, her powers had come back to life, answering the question of if she had lost them once the Cauldron was nullified in the most dangerous way possible. Rhysand had heard rumors of seers capable of shaping the very world around them, of the ways that the few before Elain Archeron had moved the very foundations of courts, but he had thought it was myths. Old tales parents used to put their faelings to sleep.

Yet there Elain stood, her hands quivering, lip trembling as she looked to Rhysand for help.

He put on hand to her, silently commanding Feyre to leave with Nyx, to protect their son before approaching Elain slowly, “Breathe,” it wasn't a suggestion. It was a command. A command she had no choice but to follow. “Leave,” he told everyone else. “Now.”

It was a question of their safety, of his courts safety as he grabbed Elain, winnowing her before she could fight, and brought her to a heavily warded field before stepping out of the barrier himself. “Let it out.”

Brown eyes met deep blue one, “What?”

“Let. It. Out.” Rhysand shielded himself, “This clearly is about more than a necklace. Your body has pent up the magic inside of you. Let it out before I banish you to protect my son.”

This was the Rhysand Bryce had witnessed. The Rhysand who ruthlessly went after Nesta. Elain knew what that meant and she couldn't stop the choked sob.

He thought she was dangerous.

A potential risk to his court, his family. To Nyx.

The very grass around her seemed to wilt as she fell to her knees, the plants all around her in the shield responding in kind.

Her powers were more than just seeing. That much was becoming very clear.

And perhaps it always had been.

Rhysand's staff had never gotten gardens to grow the way Elain could. Flowers and life itself seemed to respond to her. Aching to be with her. To have her see their beauty.

And what a match that made her to her sister. A seer, blessed with the ability to bring life. Sister to a potential witch with the ability to control death.

Rhysand stood back as her magic spiraled as she had the breakdown she was needing. He noted every change, every tremor in her shoulders. He watched like she was an experiment.

He watched so closely he didn't notice as Lucien appeared, seemingly from nowhere.

Lucien walked into the circle, not caring if she attacked him, not caring that he was endangering himself, and he knelt beside her, “You're killing the trees,” he whispered gently.

Her eyes went up, noticing the damage she had caused, eyes watering again. “I didn’t- I wasn't.”

“I remember a cocky high lord who once accidentally misted an entire building. Lucky it was unoccupied,” Rhysand began as he walked in. “And another who shifted uncontrollably for close to a month.”

Lucien chuckled at the memory Rhysand conjured. “When my spell cleaving magic first showed up, I broke every ward in the Forest House Beron had set. I also watched our dear Feyre Darling, High Lady of the Night Court, accidentally set a dress on fire then flood a room to out it out as she panicked and assumed I had done it.”

Elain seemed to relax, “So this is normal?” Rhysand nodded as Azriel and Cassian landed, joining in comforting Elain. “When our powers are coped up, either with or without our knowledge, they tend to come out at the worst times.”

Elain could only nod and Azriel took her other side, his hand joining Lucien's on her back. “I'm so sorry,” she began to repeat the phrase over and over until Lucien tugged the mating bond and Azriel her hair.

“We have her,” Azriel told his brothers. “Go.”

“I want all of you,” she said it firmly. “I want you all to stay until I calm down.”

Cassian and Rhys both sat in front of her.

As she began to breathe, to feel their own heartbeats consistent in their chests, Elain began to calm down.

And with her relaxed state, green began to repop up, flowers blooming in place of the death surrounding them. It made Rhysand nod again, eyes locked on the middle sister.

“This is beyond my paygrade,” Cassian muttered. “I- we need help with her.”

Rhysand glanced his way, then Azriel's, then tried to glance to where Lucien and Elain were staring at each other.

“What does she need,” Rhysand's voice was thick, emotion setting in as he knew the answer.

“Adventure.” Lucien gave the answer without hesitation, “She wants to feel less cooped up. She wants to see the world outside of the Night Court. Meet and explore new places. And hope her powers grow on the way.”

“You will be with her the entire time,” Rhysand watched as Cassian and Azriel grew stiff at the question. “And bring her home in one piece at her or my command.”

Lucien only nodded as he kept his eyes on Elain, “She will be safe. No matter where we go. I will put my life down for her without hesitation.”

“I am holding you to that,” Rhysand's hand went out, “Swear it.”

Lucien looked at his hand, then the female in desperate need of escape to reach her full potential. Different High Lords assisting her. Different beings to weigh in on her powers, to research what she needed. The bargain burned as he took Rhysand's hand. It seared into his skin, marking his lower left arm in the same swirls and Illyrian runes that graced his skin. “I will free you from it once Elain tells me to,” Rhysand stood, backing away. “Take her on her adventure. Help her grow.”

That moment would turn to months of occasional letter.

Months a year.

Elain adventured to corners of the world only Lucien had seen. Meeting fae older than the trees themselves who taught her balance, peace, trust within herself.

Elain's arrival back in the Night Court was unexpected. She came into the new Riverhouse, kicking off her shoes and jacket like she always had.

She seemed to glow now, her hair loose, her muscles relaxed. She carried the scent of magic and herbs with her wherever she went, “Hi,” she sat casually on the couch, the very world axis seeming to shift with her power as she did. She could rival Rhysand. It was clear in the way it came off of her in waves. “What did I miss?”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #acotar #elain archeron week #elain archeron acotar #elain archeron #elain acosf #elain acotar #elain week 2024 #elain x inner circle

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offtorivendell · 3 months ago

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I debated reblogging this post, but it is perfect for day 7 of Elain Archeron Appreciation Week: Growth.

@elainarcheronweek

Elain 'I hope they all burn in Hell' Archeron

Or, why Elain is not the "useless" sister; here's a little hint... none of them are.

Please don't screenshot or share this post without credit.

Disclaimer: this will be a relatively ship neutral (as much as possible), pro Elain post.

A lot of the issues Feyre had with Elain and Nesta at the beginning of the series were warranted, true, but the underlying issue, in my opinion, was that their father wasn't being a parent. I understand that he had a physical disability, and likely some form of depression, but he was still solely responsible for the well being of three young girls. There are things he could have done to help reduce Feyre's burden, even without being able to walk - perhaps he could have tried to secure jobs for the girls as they grew up, using his old business contacts. Feyre, Elain and Nesta were all essentially children when they lost everything, and his lack of guidance wasn't the fault of any of the sisters. Both of their parents utterly failed them.

That being said, this is a positivity post about the things Elain has done, because we can't all start off as the hero, so here we go.

Throughout the ACOTAR series to date, Elain Archeron has already experienced a huge amount of character growth (posts here and here are well worth a read), from cowering at the back of their cottage when Tamlin kidnapped Feyre, to thwarting her sisters' attempts to keep her safe during the final battle in ACOWAR and sneaking through the shadows to save Nesta and Cassian, and their world, by killing the King of Hybern. She took this a step further in ACOSF and offered the use of her powers, unprompted, to both help Feyre and Rhys' Inner Circle search for the Dread Trove, and spare Nesta from using her much-hated Cauldron magic.

Some people, however, still think she's dead weight.

So, in case you need a refresher course in Things Elain Has Done 101, here's a list of what she's been up to over the course of the books:

ACOTAR

Elain often acted as the family mediator - reading between the lines, it appears that she attempted to keep the peace between family members.

Gave thoughtful gifts - as Feyre gave Elain flower seeds, Elain also gave Feyre paints that helped to foster her creativity.

We do not know if, like Nesta, she was actively wishing for starvation during their time in the cottage; who knows what she truly did?

SJM often neglects the domestic minutiae of life that aren't as exciting as her magical adventures (I get it, I do, and in almost any other fandom this wouldn't be so much of an issue), but think about it: who cleaned their cottage? Who washed and mended clothing? Who cared for their disabled father? Feyre was out hunting, so this likely fell to Elain, and Nesta, too - ie. what if she didn't just sit and do nothing all day during their years in the cottage, which her POV in ACOSF seemed to suggest. What if SJM truly forgot that the above tasks also exist, and that they are just as valid a form of work/earning your keep as hunting.

Wrote letters to Feyre while Feyre was at her "Aunt's house." This demonstrates that Elain regularly thought about Feyre, and that she cares for her.

As soon as she had the means, she began to plan to learn how to grow food crops, I assume in an attempt to never be helpless if impoverished again.

It should really go without saying, but growing crop vegetables requires knowledge and seeds and tools and actual, arable land; assuming that they had access to all of this when in a cottage that was essentially a "hovel" is a stretch.

Elain also began her attempts to regain the Archeron family's prior social standing. This wasn't shallow of her, she was playing the game.

She hosted a ball for Feyre, to welcome her home and back into their new circle. This sort of thing is instrumental in being accepted in the higher strata of human society, and Elain was looking out for Feyre's future social standing by doing so.

As soon as Tamlin’s glamour was broken, she showed up with supplies and a horse for Feyre’s journey back to Prythian; an instance of Elain being observant and acting behind the scenes to help in a given situation.

ACOMAF

Despite telling Feyre, in ACOTAR, that she wasn't interested in marrying straight away - that there would be other seasons, and that she'd prefer to travel to the Continent - Elain got engaged to a human man whom she professed to love, but who was also well positioned to help protect the human lands from the increasing likelihood of Fae incursion.

This protection would almost certainly have extended to Nesta; Elain acted to keep them BOTH safe.

Also, let's not call Graysen and his father racist towards the Fae. Prejudiced, certainly, as almost all humans are, but they, as humans, do not hold the power - either societal or magical/literal - in Prythian's current social structure, and they were amassing arms to protect the human lands from the attack they knew was coming from the Fae, not invade the Fae lands. It turned out that Graysen, like his father, is not a nice person, and he can be incredibly spiteful, but that doesn't make him guilty of everything.

Elain continued her attempts to regain their family's prior social standing during ACOMAF; once again, this sort of thing was currency for their class.

Power came from having good social connections as well as money.

Elain welcomed the now-High Fae Feyre home with open arms, and was genuinely happy to learn she was alive and well. She missed her sister.

Elain convinced Nesta - who was understandably reluctant! - that they should both get involved with the Night Court’s plot to save the whole of Prythian by contacting the mortal Queens in order to establish an alliance.

Elain chose to act, regardless of having everything to lose at the time, which is sadly what occurred.

She charmed their house staff away for the next two days, in order for the letter to be written and sent, and to spend time with Feyre.

Elain, along with Azriel, attempted to maintain a civil conversation at their first joint family meal, ie. more peace keeping and mediating.

There was potential involvement with letter-sending, and meeting with Azriel, after Nesta banned Cassian from returning.

Elain possibly ensured the highest quality offerings for the mortal queens' visit, in order to keep them happy and more amenable to cooperating.

Nesta looked to Elain, still silent and wide-eyed. The tea she’d prepared—the finest, most exotic tea money could buy—sat undisturbed on the table.

When the queens refused an alliance, it was Elain who showed some spirit. Could her words have been prophetic in some way? We still don't know.

And it was Elain—Elain—who sighed and murmured, “I hope they all burn in hell.”

She shouted a warning to Feyre in Hybern, about the approaching soldiers, despite her own dire predicament.

Once again, she was observant before she was Made and became a Seer.

She fought like Hell against going into the Cauldron.

Elain went into the Cauldron first, with no notion that she might survive it. She was the first guinea pig, but - as the King of Hybern said - she was strong-willed enough to make it out of the Cauldron, reborn and very much alive.

ACOWAR

Elain struggled in a land of waking dreams for a few months, until Azriel figured out she was a Seer. I cannot begin to fathom what it must feel like, to not know whether what you were seeing or hearing was real, and thinking you'd lost your mind.

Even her sisters thought she'd "gone mad."

While not yet knowing her own powers, she gave accurate warnings about the Ravens, who were sent after Nesta and Feyre in the Library.

Elain has also uttered prophetic sounding words about Vassa and others, which resulted in Lucien heading off to search for Vassa, whose arrival with reinforcements later on in ACOWAR was instrumental in their victory against Hybern.

Elain tended a small herb garden (both for healing purposes, and as a hobby).

She insisted on her own involvement with saving the humans - her people, who would now likely turn her away at best, or kill her at worst, for her new status as High Fae - from their old region, by travelling to Graysen’s manor to beg sanctuary on their behalf.

I would put money on the fact she knew Graysen would reject her, and that there was a risk to her safety, but she chose to go anyway.

"It's already ended badly" [...] "Wise words."

More visions, many of which I assume we haven't been informed of. Yet.

Elain scried/Saw the Suriel for Feyre, sans scrying tools. How?! Is this, potentially, hinting at the type and strength of her powers.

Elain assisted as much as she could in her own rescue from Hybern's war camp, despite being chained with spelled shackles. She got a shocked Briar to react and reach for Azriel at the last minute, kicked the naga hounds' faces with her bare feet when they were attacking Azriel's wings, etc.

She wore clothing that made her uncomfortable, in order to be able to help/be present on the battlefield with her family and new friends.

She accepted Truth-Teller from Azriel, in order to be able to defend herself while there.

She did not ask to be relegated to the camp at the back of the battle, that was Feyre’s request/order.

Once removed to (relative) safety, Elain chose to not stay in their camp, once again putting herself at risk for her family.

Read: character growth.

Somehow she "stepped out of a shadow" and slew the King of Hybern with Truth-Teller, saving Nesta and Cassian from imminent death, as well as Prythian as a whole from being overrun by Hybern and his soldiers.

Were these Azriel’s shadows? Nuala and Cerridwen's? Rhys' shadows? Elain’s own?!

Did Elain have a vision, and subsequently have to choose between saving Papa Archeron and Nesta? Did she have to watch her father die, just to save her sister, her future BIL, and her world? This would be a heartwrenchingly tough decision to make.

Instigated the prayer that Feyre said for their father.

Positive outlook at the end.

"The world needs more gardens," which echoed the Suriel's final words to Feyre.

ACOFAS

Elain was showing some interest in life and settling in, which Feyre was overjoyed to see.

Now friends with Nuala and Cerridwen.

Baking with Nuala and Cerridwen (healing, and learning another important life skill).

She was also working in the townhouse garden (healing and hobby).

Attempted to maintain a relationship with Nesta, who was both avoiding her and actively pushing her away - this is not an attack on Nesta, because her way of coping with her trauma was to isolate herself from her family to punish herself, which breaks my heart.

"You have your life, I have mine."

Working through her feelings for Graysen, and his betrayal of her.

(Unsuccessfully) attempts civility with Lucien, despite her discomfort.

She had developed strong opinions on her bond to Lucien.

"I don't want a mate. I don't want a male."

For a more in-depth discussion as to why Elain may not have acted either way on her bond with Lucien, read this post.

Elain was actively learning about the Night Court’s winter solstice traditions.

Thoughtful gifts for Nuala, Cerridwen, Azriel, Feyre and Nesta. More wise words to Feyre as they were out shopping for gifts.

She helped to cook the food they ate at solstice, aka contributing to the family.

Elain also baked a surprise, multi tiered birthday cake for Feyre - an act of love and affection (multi tiered cakes ain't simple or easy).

She was planning a new garden for the townhouse.

ACOSF

Working, ie. "not mooching":

"Toiling" (per Cassian) in the River Estate's Gardens from dawn.

Still bakes and cooks for the family, ie. a very valid form of contributing.

Helps elderly faeries in Velaris with their own gardens, ie. community involvement.

Volunteered to scry for/See the Dread Trove items herself, proceeded to get shot down by Nesta:

"Absolutely not," Nesta spat, fingers curling at her sides. "Absolutely not."

Stood up to Nesta:

“Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

Offered the use of her Cauldron-based powers with confidence: But Elain turned on her heel. “Find me when you wish to begin.” The doors shut behind her.

Really, pp 229-232 of ACOSF.

Elain did not "choose" Feyre over Nesta; Nesta lashed out and pushed her away for an entire year (understandable though it may be in the context of her own trauma) and Elain - we assume - was eventually hurt enough herself that she stopped trying to maintain contact, and prioritised her own trauma/healing.

This does not make her a terrible sister, their relationship was unhealthy and it needed to be fixed (it still does, but now they're on their way).

Was genuinely happy for Nesta when she heard that she was making improvements, as well as friends, even if she was no longer part of that life.

See (Nesta's quote from ACOFAS): "You have your life, I have mine."

Elain spoke fondly of Nesta, and recounted a situation in which Nesta had put herself on the line for revenge against Elain’s childhood bully.

She was happy to see Nesta at the winter solstice celebration, after they'd cleared the air.

Elain actively and enthusiastically initiated and consented to her romantic interaction with Azriel at winter solstice.

She was praying at Feyre’s bedside, during her traumatic birth experience.

Is praying a form of her magic?

Does invoking words of power allow her to access some of her Cauldron powers?

Elain spent time with both of her sisters on the final pages of ACOSF. As in ACOTAR, her sisters - her family - are important to her.

All of this is to say that, ships aside, Elain has not been a useless character, especially as the story has progressed.

Quietly processing her trauma doesn't mean that her experiences and feelings and healing journey were or are any less severe than someone who reacts more noticeably. Elain has taken the time to move on with her life, at least in part, with the help of Nuala and Cerridwen, especially. We should be just as proud of her as we are of Nesta.

Elain did not "abandon" one sister for the other - why can't she have a relationship with both?

She works in the kitchen and garden of at least Feyre and Rhys' house, and other gardens around Velaris, besides. Even if Elain never touched her magic again, gardening and baking and cooking are all valid professions - I know these thoughts can be unintentional, so here is a gentle reminder that it's pretty classist to suggest otherwise. That being said, Elain did offer her services to the Night Court in ACOSF, so I doubt this would be the case.

We should be able to talk up all the other characters without ignoring and diminishing Elain's own actions and achievements.

If you engage in the comments section, please be respectful of one another. 💜

#elainarcheronweek2024 #day 7 growth #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #elain

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feysandcracks · 2 years ago

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Hey all!!!!

We’re so excited to finally announce our prompts for Feyre Week! And again, sorry it’s a bit late but thank you all so much for your patience 💕

We also decided to extend the week to 9 days. This is because we wanted to get as much of Feyre’s story here as possible so we can celebrate it all!!

Here’s what these prompts will mean:

Day 1: The Huntress 🏹

We met Feyre when she was just a 19 year old human girl fighting for survival. She went out to hunt and provide for her family at the young age of 14 right up until she was taken to Prythian. We wanted to incorporate Feyre’s skill as a human before Prythian and the Night Court. This is a perfect time to highlight her wounded inner child, the neglect suffered from her family and her brutal living conditions, yet through it all, she never once gave up on herself or her family. A true sister right there!!

Day 2: Cursebreaker ⚔️

We see how far Feyre is willing to go to protect those she loves. This is shown in the first book when she was Under the Mountain fighting Amarantha’s 3 trials as a 19 year old human, so this day will be dedicated to Feyre and her courage/resilience while UTM and her badassery during the wyrm trial!!!!

Day 3: Winter Solstice ❄️

This day is the most important day of the week. Why you ask? Well it’s Feyre’s birthday!!!!! This day will be a celebration of Feyre and her family. You can freely do whatever it is you want to celebrate Feyre’s birthday. Literally anything!! This can be commissioning/creating art of Feyre and her family during her birthday, writing modern fics of Feyre in New York celebrating her bday, OR, making yourself a Christmasy beverage/baking a cake in honour of Feyre. We would love to see it so tag us and we’ll reblog it. This will be an interactive day for all. So don’t be afraid to get creative in honour of our High Lady!!!

Day 4: The Inner Circle ✨

To both old and new members of the inner circle, this day will highlight Feyre’s relationship with her found family. From Cassian and Morrigan’s brotherly/sisterly friendship, Amren and her viper tongued advice, Rhys and his never ending charm, to Azriel defending Feyre during the High Lord meeting. This day is for all who love the inner circle and their importance in Feyre’s growth and life throughout he series. This day will also be dedicated to celebrating Feyre’s new sisterly relationships with Elain and Nesta that none of them ever truly had before. The Archeron’s are just as important in Feyre’s story as the Inner Circle is, so for those who love all the characters, don’t be afraid. This week is for all!!!

Day 5: Starfall 💫

This day will be for celebrating starfall with our High Lady and her family. This can be dedicated to Feyre’s first starfall, the starfall in acosf where a very interesting red star fell through the sky (😉), or the next future starfall where Feyre celebrates with all her family and friends and little Nyx. This day is for you to decide what you want to do!!!

Day 6: The High Lady 👑

Feyre is the first ever High Lady in Prythian’s history. She is also the most powerful Fae in history with all the powers of the 7 High Lords combined. She defended Velaris, the City of Starlight and earned her title as High Lady long before her people knew she was theirs. So this day will showcase Feyre’s powers, rulership, serious side and her place in the Court of Nightmares, but it will also show her soft charitable side as High Lady too!!

Day 7: The Rulers of Night 🌌

Yes this is the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Feysand!!!! This day is for celebrating feysand from the beginning of their relationship to them becoming parents in acosf. Nyx will also be heavily celebrated during this day, so feel free to make as many fics/art as you want of mama Feyre with papa Rhys and baby Nyx. Or maybe you want to do something about older Nyx training with Rhys and painting with Feyre? It’s totally up to you!! It will also be a day to celebrate them as rulers together!! *insert Feysand pov fic at the Court of Nightmares in acosf*

Day 8: The Painter 🎨

Feyre expresses the deepest and sometimes darkest parts of herself through painting. It’s a time where she can be free to express her emotions without having to communicate with others. In the series we see how important painting is for Feyre. It was a safe haven for her in her darkest times. When she was living in poverty, she would try and save as much money as she could to paint on any surface. It was the only time that she got peace in the harsh world she was living in. Her biggest dream pre-Prythian was to have enough money to take care of herself and her father while also having enough to buy paints. That was her biggest dream. And look how far she has come since then. Now she has opened her own art studio for children of war so they can freely express themselves without judgment and without having to verbally communicate it. So this day is dedicated to Feyre’s favourite hobby which has inspired many both in out out of the series!!!

Day 9: Free Day 💜

This is a open day for everyone. You can decide what you want to celebrate on the last day of Feyre week. So be creative and don’t hold back!!

Reminder: this week is for all who love Feyre no matter what side of the fandom you’re on. This is not a week to bash other characters you don’t like or attack fans of characters you don’t like. If you love Feyre and don’t like other characters, just celebrate Feyre. If you hate Feyre and love every other character, simply filter Feyre week content and block my account so you won’t have to see it on your feed. Bullying and offensive posts will not be tolerated during this week. So please act like civil adults and spread positivity instead so all Feyre stans can enjoy this week in peace. Thank you!!!

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elainarcheronweek · 5 months ago

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Welcome to Elain Archeron Appreciation Week, 2024!

🌸 Elain Archeron Week 2025 announcement 🌸

We are so excited to be back for another year and cannot wait to celebrate our favourite flower fairy!

First off, a little housekeeping. We will announce the week on our old (now main) blog to be safe, but for ease of managing the event we have created a new space. We're sorry for the run around, and suggest following this new blog going forward.

Please tag this account - @elainarcheronweek - when posting your art, fics and theories etc so that we don't miss anything.

We are also on Instagram and Twitter.

This week is for every fan of Elain Archeron to foster positivity about her character; we ask that everyone remain kind while participating.

The Prompts

Art: @ barbygoodface commissioned by @ stephdaydreams

🌸 Day 1: Visions

We know Elain was gifted tremendous powers by the Cauldron. Today, let's dive into her Seer powers and how she has utilised her gifts this far, or how they might manifest even more in the future.

Art: @ isis_villalobos_art commissioned by @ purpleunicornc_ & @ oceanfairym

🌸 Day 2: Hope

Today is all about hopes- both Elain's and our own. We know that Elain looked at their old cottage with hope. What other ways has Elain shown her hopefulness? Or what do you maybe hope for in Elain's future story?

Art: @ shim0rin commissioned by @ oceanfairym

🌸 Day 3: Strength

Elain may be soft, but she isn't a pushover. From killing the King of Hybern to "I hope they all burn in hell," Elain has proven she can more than hold her own. Today is the day to showcase her too-often- overlooked strength.

Art: @ andie_owo commissioned by @ separatist.apologist

🌸 Day 4: Home

What is 'home?' Is it a place? A person? A feeling? Today's the day to think about Elain's home. Use this prompt to explore her domestic side, or perhaps showcase what person, place, or things you think would make her feel most at home.

Art: @ btzart_ commissioned by @ steelprincesss @ helareads_ @ lunepapillons_ & @ wacky_abdalla

🌸 Day 5: Connections

Elain is known for her kindness and care toward her family and friends. Today, we explore the various connections she has built, whether it be with friends, family, or potential romantic partners.

Art: @ sollillium commissioned by @ lunepapillons_

🌸 Day 6: Passions

For this prompt, let's celebrate what Elain is passionate about. This prompt may include her hobbies like gardening and baking, or maybe other pastimes you might imagine she'd enjoy.

Art: @ goldenmushroom_ commissioned by @ emilysbookishtales

🌸 Day 7: Growth

Today is all about Elain's growth. Maybe you want to focus on what she's grown in her garden or how she's grown as a character so far. Or, you might use today as a free day, to imagine all the ways she could grow in the future.

Art: @ artbysanse commissioned by @ lazydaisyreads

#elainarcheronweek #elain archeron week #elainarcheronweek2024 #elain archeron week 2024 #elainweek #elain week #elainweek2024 #elain week 2024 #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #pro elain #acotar #sjm books #a court of thorns and roses #maasverse #elain archeron week info

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thespianbooks · 4 years ago

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 5//

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7) (Chapter 8) (Chapter 9) (Chapter 10)

(Tags: @thron3ofbooks @df3ndyr @courtofjurdan @art-e-mis @herondamnn @the-third-me @im-still-trying-here @emikadreams @paytin77)

It was all I could do to keep from bursting into joyous tears as Madja announced that I was ten weeks along in my pregnancy. Upon revealing that my suspicions were true, she completed a thorough examination. She determined that since I was in the early stages, that was the cause of lingering sickness and fatigue. Unfortunately, those symptoms would continue until I was about halfway along; where most females felt the best and most of the unlikeable symptoms eased a bit. I was also surprised to learn that a fae pregnancy lasts five weeks longer than a human’s, but it made sense on a larger scale. As powerful immortal beings, we needed more time in the womb to develop.

After her examination, she prescribed a few prenatal herbal teas that I would need to drink in order to aid in the baby’s growth. I smiled at the word, brushing my fingertips along my abdomen again—knowing this would become a new habit for me, and for Rhys. A baby, our baby, growing strong inside of me as Madja promised. He would be as strong as his father, the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, and with my powers combined…

My smile faltered as I realized what this meant.

Years ago, Rhys confided in me about his concern over any potential offspring he might have, afraid they would be hunted and sought after by his enemies. If his children inherited his abilities alone, they would be just as powerful. What did that threat mean now with my blood mixed in?

Cursebreaker. Cauldron-blessed. The first ever High Lady in Prythian, who inherited a drop of power from all seven of the High Lords after being resurrected.

What powers would my child inherit from me? Combined with Rhys’s, our child’s strength would surpass both of ours alone; which meant the same for all the other High Lords of Prythian. We had alliances now, but how many of those would change after they learned about my son? After they saw a fraction of their power in him, in combination with Rhysand’s? My mind began to race and breathing became difficult as I looked down at my stomach, my fingers gripping my tunic in panic. Would he be in danger? Who were we close enough with to know that they would never consider such a thing? What if they came after him before he was born? Would they target me? I had to do something, but what if there was nothing I could do?

I had to protect him—my baby.

Protect, protect, protect.

“My lady,” a gentle voice interrupted the rising chaos in my mind, even gentler hands gripping my shoulders and I saw the healer’s dark eyes meet mine as she leveled a look at me.

I became aware of my ragged breathing, hunched back and tense shoulders, trembling. Her delicate, wrinkled hands moved from my shoulders to either side of my face. A blue aura illuminated those hands as they touched my face, and slowly I calmed. Slowly, my shoulders relaxed and I slid my eyes closed as my breaths evened out, a few tears escaping past my lids.

After a few seconds of that peace, Madja slowly let go of my face and straightened, “You mustn’t be afraid, my lady. Your child will be a very powerful high fae, but you are surrounded by friends—family. The uncertainty the future brings may be frightening, but there is also joy in it,” she said gently as she handed me a handkerchief. “That is what you must focus on right now. The joy in a healthy and developing baby.”

I sniffed as I dabbed at my eyes, nodding in agreement “Thank you Madja. I just felt so overwhelmed for a minute,” I lamented.

“Oh, I see this reaction more often than you would believe. First time mothers have many fears, and you will be no different. Just remember the joy in it,” she reassured.

She was right, I couldn’t allow the fear to consume me. I wouldn’t let it control me or take away from this moment of happiness. This baby, our son, was a miracle. Fae children were difficult to conceive, but Rhys and I had done it. We were going to have a baby; over half a millennia later one would be born into the Night Court’s ruling family—my family. He would be cherished by our Inner Circle, and loved by the people of Velaris; just as they loved Rhys. My heart swelled as I pictured what the moment of joy would look like on his face when I told him; how those violet eyes would brighten and sparkle like the stars and how he would grin. I wanted to paint that moment more than anything, and now after a decade of waiting, I finally would.

“Shall I call the High Lord in for the good news?” she asked as she began packing up her bag of supplies.

“Oh no, please don’t tell him yet,” I urged and she raised an amused brow at me as I flushed, “I want to surprise him...tomorrow at Starfall.”

She nodded her understanding, “I see,” she said as she finished packing and grabbed my hands, squeezing them lightly. “The High Lord will be thrilled, my lady,” she said, and the genuine delight in her voice caused my eyes to burn.

She laughed heartily at the silver lining my eyes, “Expect more of that. Your hormones will cause plenty of surges in your emotions,” she explained empathetically.

I grimaced, “In other words, I’ll be an emotional mess.”

She laughed again and patted my hands, “All completely normal. For now, drink that brew of herbs I gave you three times a day, get plenty of rest, and I will be back next week to check your progress.”

I nodded and walked her to the door of my bedroom, “Thank you Madja,” I said.

“You’re welcome my lady,” she said sweetly before leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I touched my stomach tentatively, knowing underneath layers of skin and muscle my child was growing—safely. He was finally real; a manifestation of the love Rhys and I had for each other. So far, only the healer and I knew of his existence, and soon Rhysand would know as well. For the moment, I caressed my still flat stomach and cherished this little time we had alone.

XXX

The hours leading up to our Starfall celebration would be torturous.

Once I emerged from my room and the healer left, everyone was eager to hear her diagnosis of my condition. I did my best to reassure them all that I was perfectly fine, and simply needed more time to recover from my previous illness. Not a complete lie, but I knew they were all unconvinced—especially my mate. I immediately knew that keeping up a façade would be difficult, but luckily, I had plenty of experience with masks of deception. Years in the Night Court with occasional appearances in the Court of Nightmares, and serving as High Lady would certainly assist me in hiding my pregnancy for at least the next twenty-four hours or so.

Later, after we turned in for the night, Rhys begged for a detailed account of Madja’s official diagnosis. I again had to convince him that I was all right, which was technically true. I was pregnant, not sick; so aside from my body working hard to grow a high fae baby, I was fine. An hour into him trying to pry me for more information, I finally managed to silence him by pushing him onto the bed and straddling his hips. This morning however, was more of a struggle. Madja warned me that the fatigue would linger throughout the next several months of my pregnancy, but I soon realized it was going to be an uphill battle to force myself from bed, let alone try and convince my mate that I was still on the road to recovery.

Thankfully, Starfall was finally here; one of our rare days off, and I could use it to my advantage. It had been a while since we spent a day alone together; in the weeks that followed since his return from the Illyrian mountains, we fell back into our regular routine with our schedules as High Lord and Lady. Despite our initial reunion and the brief mating frenzy renewed, which caused us to sneak away from time to time throughout the day, we still attended to our responsibilities. But today was our holiday, and a year from now our child would be here to celebrate his first Starfall. Soon it would no longer be just the two of us, my sisters and our Inner Circle; soon there would be an infant for us to raise and love, so I wanted to continue to take advantage of our time alone while we still had it.

I convinced Rhys to let us spend the morning in bed together, where we took our time worshipping each other's bodies, ate a hearty breakfast and lounged together well into the afternoon. By lunchtime, I felt my energy renew and we enjoyed our lunch in the gardens before we parted to finalize last minute details for the party. Traditionally, that meant Mor and I attended to any directions Elain might have for us and the Illyrians did...well whatever they liked to do before a party.

“They’re probably at Rita’s right now having drinks,” Mor wondered aloud as she and I rearranged the refreshments table in the grand hall.

I stepped back to review my work, and shrugged, “Maybe, but there’s plenty of drinks here, so that doesn’t make much sense,” I reasoned.

“Neither does ‘I’m getting over a cold, I promise,’” she mocked.

I glared at her, but she threw her head back with a laugh, “Don’t look so serious Feyre, whatever secret you have is safe with me.”

I bristled, moving to fuss with a flower arrangement by the table, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said as casually as I could.

“I’ve been keeping a secret for most of my existence, Feyre, I think that makes me an expert,” she said.

I paused and looked her way, “Mor-” I began but she held a hand up to stop me.

“Like I said, it's safe with me,” she said and a look of understanding silently passed between us before she turned to the next task Elain set out for her.

Maybe she did already know, and maybe she didn’t. Either way, I believed that she wouldn’t reveal it to Rhys or anyone else for that matter. I took a step back again to examine the room, happy with the decorations Elain meticulously had installed every year. Sparkling bowls of fae lights lit the room in a warm glow, allowing the white marble floors and moonstone columns to illuminate naturally. The delicate chiffon curtains adorning the windowless arched walls were decorated with tiny sparkles of fae light, a design Elain created herself, and accentuated the varying shades of cream, ivory and silver flower arrangements spread out throughout the room. They framed the horizon perfectly and opened up to the expansive veranda that led right into the gardens, allowing guests to move in and out of the estate easily and a perfect view of the spirits' journey across the night sky as we all danced. It was initially my idea to host the people of Velaris in the grand hall, remembering that these were the kind of memories I wanted to make in our new home.

I touched my stomach briefly when Mor wasn’t looking. What would he look like in a year? He would be too small to run around and try to disturb any decorations, so perhaps I would walk him around the estate and show off all the adornments before Rhys and I would put him to bed. We’d no doubt be exhausted, but happy. Maybe we’d celebrate Starfall privately in our suite, just the three of us. I felt that glimmer in the pit of my stomach and I smiled. Would you like that, little one? I thought to myself, wondering if he could hear me.

“It’s perfect!” Elain cheered as she and Nesta walked into the room.

I quickly moved my hand from my stomach as I turned to face them, but not fast enough for Nesta not to take notice. Thankfully, she only raised a perfectly arched brow at me, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready? Your guests will be arriving shortly,” she reminded me.

I nodded, “I was just about to leave,” I said as I looked over their attire.

Elain wore a delicate soft pink strapless A-line gown with a glitter ombre falling from her bust line down to the floor; a braid crowning the top of her head with the rest of her hair flowing just past her shoulders. Nesta, as conservative as ever, wore a long-sleeved gown in a similar fashion, only in a deep violet with a more subtle glittering effect. Her hair was pulled back in a loosely braided bun, a few loose strands of curls framing her face. Despite her controlled face and aloof attitude, I was glad Nesta still joined us after Cassian all but dragged her here for our first celebration in the estate years ago.

“Nuala and Cerridwen are waiting for you in your suite, Feyre. You go get dressed, and I’ll greet everyone, don’t worry,” Elain said sweetly, brushing her hands over her gown when she realized I was looking, silently asking for my approval.

“Just as she does every year,” Nesta interjected as I offered Elain a nod of assent.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and began walking out, “I’ll be back with Rhys before it starts,” I said and made my way back up to my suite.

As Nuala and Cerridwen began my dressing routine, I began to play different scenarios of the speech I would give Rhys when I announced my pregnancy. Only to realize I didn’t really have a speech at all, and began scrambling for one. As memorable as I wanted this moment to be, I was sincerely lacking in creativity and eloquence. I sighed in defeat as I stood before the mirror, checking over my appearance—the same blue-white liquid starlight gown I adorned every year, and my hair swept away from my face with the same diamond studded combs I wore on my first Starfall. In an attempt to make tonight more memorable for Rhys, I wanted to recreate our first celebration together; I asked the shadowed-twins to style me the same way they had that night.

After dismissing themselves, I ran tentative fingers along my abdomen again before inhaling a deep and anxious breath. “Let’s go tell your father,” I said quietly, resigned with the fact that I would just have to wing whatever speech I would give Rhys for the news.

XXX

An hour into the party, after mingling with our friends and guests, the estate’s lights dimmed naturally and everyone began pooling out into the veranda as the star-spirits began their glittering descent. The sky was soon decorated with the spirits twirling and sparkling forms as the guests cheered with raised champagne glasses.

“Raise a glass, my love,” Rhys purred in my ear as he stepped up behind me, his chest brushing against my back as he offered the glass before me.

I hesitated, knowing it probably wasn’t wise to drink now that I knew I was expecting, but took the glass anyway before turning to face him, “Let’s go to our balcony,” I said as I straightened the collar of his traditional black jacket, tracing over the silver-lined pattern on his lapels lightly.

“Now?” He asked with his smug feline grin, “Usually we stay at least an hour after the dancing’s begun.”

“I know, but,” I paused, chewing over what to say next, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Something you can’t ask me around our guests? He asked through the bond, his feline grin turning into a teasing one

I rolled my eyes before brushing past him and striding down the hall, not bothering to look back to make sure he was coming. Well?

“Oh, I’m right behind you Feyre darling,” he purred in my ear again as his hand brushed over the small of my back, walking in step with me to the hall leading to our balcony.

“As you should be,” I said haughtily.

His dark chuckle reverberated through me, my stomach fluttering as I fought a smile and we stepped onto the balcony together. I walked up to the railing, setting my champagne glass aside and stared up at the sky as the star-spirits continued to sparkle and dance. Rhys’s fingers brushed up and down my spine softly as he watched with me, both of us in a comfortable silence. I watched from the corner of my eye as the stars illuminated his handsome face, a warm smile on his lips and I reached a hand down to hold his.

He turned that smile to me, “What did you want to ask me, my love?”

My heart skipped a beat as a question I was genuinely curious about popped into my mind, “What’s the first memory you have of Starfall?” I asked.

“That’s what you dragged me out here in the cold for?” He asked with a smirk, moving to stand behind me as he slid his arms around my waist and rested his chin atop the crown of my head.

I leaned into his embrace, perching my arms on his. I really do want to know

His sigh was peaceful as he contemplated, searching his memory as we continued to watch the sparkling display. Should I show you or do you want me to tell you?

“Tell me,” I answered quietly. My mind too tangled a mess to allow myself into his without the possibility of revealing my secret prematurely.

His arms tightened around me slightly as he smiled into my hair, “I was five years old. My mother and father brought me to the House of Wind, as they did every year. It was the first I managed to stay awake long enough to actually see the star-spirits,” he explained.

Gentle swells of music began to play behind us, and he swayed us from side to side smoothly. “It was years before they began to drift apart, so their relationship was strong. I remember it was the first time I realized how much they actually loved each other; for a time at least. I used to wonder how honest their love actually was, and my mind would always drift back to the memories of them dancing together on Starfall to remind me. It was also the night my mother announced she was pregnant with my sister.

“We were on the balcony at the House of Wind, watching the star shower. I was sitting on my father's shoulders, pointing out every spirit I saw. I was completely in awe of them. I think seeing my reaction made my mother cry, and when my father asked her what was wrong, she said to him ‘I can’t wait for our next child to look at the stars the way he does.’ The look on his face; the genuine elation in his eyes was enough to convince me that, for at least a part of my childhood, they had real love for each other.”

My eyes burned and my throat thickened as he relayed his memories, holding me close as we continued to sway together as the music continued to play. I moved to squeeze his hands lightly, his arms still wrapped around me from behind.

“That’s a beautiful memory, Rhys,” I whispered, my tears still threatening to spill.

He moved to bury his face in the crook of my neck, planting a kiss there as he breathed a peaceful sigh through his nose; still moving us along to the music, “Beautiful as it may be, my favorite Starfall memory will always be the first we shared together Feyre darling,” he whispered back.

I couldn’t help the few tears that fell as I closed my eyes with a smile, squeezing his hands a little harder. Words failed me in that moment and I opened my eyes again, both of our gazes turning to the sky as a large sprite glittered close to us. I gasped as the star-spirits began vaulting across the sky in greater numbers. They decorated the horizon in an endless dance—like liquid starlight sparkling above us as they danced and twirled. I heard the excited cheers of our guests on the other side of the estate and grinned. Mor was right, this year the spirits returned in vast amounts, unlike I ever imagined or thought possible.

A thought for a thought, Feyre darling?

I smiled and grabbed his hands, moving them from my waist and resting them on my abdomen right as that glimmer pulsed through it. “I’m thinking, I can’t wait for our baby to look at the stars the way you do,” I said.

Rhys stiffened at my words and I turned in his arms, making sure his hands stayed on my stomach as my eyes met his, my eyes burning again “I’m pregnant, Rhys.”

His eyes widened and looked down at where our hands rested, as though he might see the evidence now that I said the words aloud. A second later he dropped to one knee before me, eye level with our joined hands as he caressed my stomach fondly.

His eyes, now lined with silver, met mine again, “You’re pregnant?” He choked out.

I nodded with a sob, my words failing me once again and he sucked in a breath as he looked at my abdomen again. “My son, the son you showed me on your birthday, is growing inside of you...now?” He asked, his throat thick.

I sobbed again, a wet laugh escaping as I nodded, “That’s what pregnant means,” I rasped.

I heard his own strangled sob before he shot up to his feet, pulling me into an embrace and lifting me off the ground as he spun me around, chanting my name over and over again. “FeyreFeyreFeyre,” he sobbed in my hair.

I laughed and sobbed and cried all at once, my arms wrapping around his shoulders as he planted me back onto the ground and held onto my waist. His forehead rested against mine and I brought my hands up to brush his tears away while my own shamelessly poured down my cheeks.

“When I first noticed how different your scent was, I thought it was possible, but I didn’t want to say anything and get our hopes up,” he explained as he brought his hands up to wipe my tears away as well.

“You were suspicious this whole time?” I sniffed with a laugh.

“You’re my mate, I knew something was going on, but you didn’t even seem to realize it so I didn’t say anything,” he said, thumbs running over my cheeks as I held his wrists gently.

I smiled, “To be fair, I didn’t catch on until yesterday, after I fainted. I can’t believe I was so dense,” I laughed in disbelief.

He shook his head, returning his hands and gaze to my stomach “You weren’t...neither of us saw it coming,” he said softly.

“We tried for so long Rhys,” I whispered, my hands coming to rest on his chest.

He caressed my stomach again, “We’re going to have a baby,” he swallowed and his violet eyes met mine. “I love you beyond measure, Feyre. You’ve given me more than I could have ever dreamed of, more than I could possibly deserve, and now,” he dropped to one knee, again surveying my stomach as he continued, “I can’t wait to meet the son you’re blessing me with.”

I sobbed again and wrapped my arms around him as he leaned in to place a kiss on my abdomen. He stayed there for a minute before rising again, slipping his arms around my waist and capturing my lips with his. I kissed him back deeply, holding him close as we resumed moving to the music—dancing slowly as the stars continued their whirling journey beyond the horizon. Our brows pressed together as we swayed, and I draped my arms over his shoulders as his hands held my waist.

After today, this better be your new favorite Starfall memory, I said down the bond.

His answering smile was mischievous. Until next year, when I can dance with you on one arm and my son on the other.

My heart tightened at the thought, and I kissed him again. To the stars who listen, Rhys.

To the dreams that are answered, Feyre.

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ladynestaarcheron · 5 years ago

Text

Like Pristine Glass - Chapter Thirteen

ao3 - ff.net - masterpost

(tagging these cuties: @humanexile @skychild29 @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @candid-confetti @rhysandsrightknee @missing-merlin @azriels-forgotten-shadow @books-and-cocos @sezkins79 @city-of-fae @someonemagical @dusty-lightbulb @messyhairday-me)

my eternal thanks to @thestarwhowishes for being my wonderful beta. and to you all for being my wonderful readers<3

chapter thirteen, without further ado!

---

November 7 - 4 years after

It’s early morning when he arrives in Velaris. He’s exhausted, having spent a long day in the Illyrian mountains after flying back from Gilameyva. It is miserable to be back in the mountains, and more miserable still to arrive in Velaris and learn that it’s not any better.

If anything, it’s worse. Because he had expected to be happier here than in Illyria—who wouldn’t? The two barely belong in the same court, with one so picturesque and overflowing with joy and the other a messy series of war camps, still bleeding out from the hasty stitches patched upon it after the rebellions—and he isn’t. He can’t be happy anywhere, now.

“You’re back.”

Cassian turns to see the surprised pleasure in Mor’s voice echoed on her face. He gives her an easy grin. “Miss me?”

She slugs his arm lightly as she grins back. “Not particularly.” Her tone changes, more gentle. “How were they?”

He stifles a sigh. He worries he might break down sobbing if he lets it out. “They’re… amazing.”

“Good,” she says, rubbing her hand on his shoulder. “That’s good.”

Cassian sits himself down in one of the large armchairs, draping his wings over the back. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s good.”

She curls up on one of the couches beside him. “You miss them.”

It’s not a question, so he doesn’t answer. Just nods his head a little.

He’s heard before, that people who don’t have children simply can’t understand. He has, privately, rolled his eyes. For he has loved before, has he not? Rhys and Az and then Mor and even Amren, and the whole Illyria and the Night Court and Feyre and then for those few months with her in the mountains, he had loved Nesta.

This is not the same.

He doesn’t miss them. That’s not nearly enough. But he’s never been one for words, so the slight nod is all he can give.

“Did you ask her to bring them for Solstice?”

He frowns slightly; he doesn’t like how she phrases it. It isn’t consciously done, he knows. Mor has no malicious intent. But he doesn’t like the implication that she is bringing them for them, the children, to be here, and not them, a family unit that is he and Nesta and the triplets, to be together.

But he supposes she is right. If Nesta comes, it won’t be for her sake. Not for a them.

“I did. She’ll think about it.”

Mor’s better at hiding her frown than he is, but he can still see it in her eyes.

“It’s her right to say no,” he defends. Which he doesn’t like. He doesn’t like it because it’s true and it might happen and also because he doesn’t want to have to defend Nesta to Mor or Rhys or Amren, or even Az sometimes. At least Feyre and Elain love her too, and they have some semblance of camaraderie with him in that.

He doesn’t like it rather selfishly: he wants to defend his right to have his family for Solstice, but because his other family doesn’t see Nesta as part of them, he has to defend her.

Cassian wonders, briefly, if this is how Feyre ever felt. Trapped between two realms, two families. Or maybe even Rhys.

“I didn’t mean it wasn’t,” she says carefully. “Just… you’re their father too.”

“It’s different.” He looks at his hands, callused and scarred. “Even if I had been with them since they were born… I still wouldn’t be with them all the time.”

“You’re keeping them safe,” she says. “You’re keeping the world safe for them. That’s important too.”

Sugar Valley is safe, he thinks, but he keeps it to himself. No one will mind, of course. They will be sympathetic. They’ll think he’s bitter, upset, think they can help him get past his guilt and move on.

But he doesn’t think it ever will. And the thought of staying anonymous in a sleepy town across the sea winks at him from the dying starlight as the sun rises over the Sidra.

---

November 21 - year after

The cheery pastels of the clinic were not helping to improve Nesta’s mood. Nor were the mother and child, hand in hand, waiting across from her.

The child blinked up at her from long lashes, blushing slightly when she made eye contact. She looked away in alarm as he gave her a pleased grin.

There should be a different room for children, she thought. When people were coming for… this.

It wasn’t that she felt guilty. She just didn’t want to think about it.

So she counted the sugarberries painted on the walls, and before long, Dadashov called her name.

“Good morning, Miss Archeron,” she said smoothly. “Can I offer you some tea?”

“No. Thank you.” How could she eat anything now? With every movement of her stomach feeling like something entirely different than butterflies.

“All right, then,” she said. “If you’d lie down, please...”

Nesta did, fidgeting with her skirts.

“How does the… procedure… how do you do it?”

“Well,” Dadashov said, hooking some wired contraption around her ears, “The procedure itself is only a tonic. A bit sour. You’ll stay here for a few hours, until the worst of the cramps have past, so I can keep an eye on you, and you’ll be home by afternoon. Rest for the next day or so. Until you feel yourself again. Before that,” Dadashov continued, either completely oblivious to or respectfully ignoring Nesta’s panic at feeling herself again, “I’ll need to do a quick check to make sure everything is in order.”

“Everything in order? With me, or…?”

“Certain conditions in the uterus rendering this particular tonic unusable or harmful to your body are rare but not unheard of. And we’ll need to make sure the fetus is in its correct position.”

“Where else would it be?” she wondered.

“Let’s not worry about that now,” she said gently. “I’m going to listen in, all right? I have this sheet… if you could raise your skirts, please… thank you. This won’t hurt a bit; it’s only rather cold.”

Nesta sucked in a breath as Dadashov placed the circle her wires are connected to on her lower stomach. Cold was an understatement.

Dadashov was silent for a few moments as she listened to… Nesta wasn’t sure.

“Hm,” she said quietly.

“Everything all right?” she asked, feeling stupid.

“Well,” she said, taking off her contraption and sitting up. “The heartbeat is irregular.”

“Irregular?”

“Erratic. Wild. No discernible rhythm at all, actually.”

Nesta’s own heartbeat sped up, though she wasn’t sure why. What did it matter if the heartbeat wasn’t normal? It wouldn’t be beating by sundown, anyway. “What does that mean?”

“A number of things. What I’m most concerned about right now is the natural state of your uterus. It could mean it’s shaped improperly or perhaps a growth pressing up against the fetus, preventing it from growing properly and affecting its heart rate. No cause for concern,” she said, giving Nesta a reassuring smile. “I’m calm because you are clearly healthy and if anything is amiss, I am here and we will take care of it. How is your cycle normally?”

“Um,” Nesta said. “Normal. It’s normal, I think.”

“Twice a year? About a week?”

“So far,” she said.

Dadashov smiled again, her light blue eyes twinkling. “Of course. My apologies. Until your transition, did you experience your cycle once a month?”

She said everything so calmly, so smoothly. Transition. Like some kind of choice. Or moving up in the world. “Yes. Well. Not every month. Sometimes… but that’s normal. Sometimes human girls miss a month.” A horrible thought struck Nesta. “Is it… could it be something I did? With… a contra—”

“Neither sex nor contraceptives could have a misshaping effect on your body, Miss Archeron,” she said firmly. “This is no one’s fault. I’m going to do a test. I’m going to be looking inside your body.”

“Inside my body?”

“Perhaps you’d like to close your eyes,” she said kindly. “It’s not horribly invasive, but it will feel odd. No, no, you don’t have to move. It’s a bit of magic. I put it on top of your lower abdomen.”

On top of her… to look inside her body… “Are you going to see...” Nesta trailed off.

“Perhaps you’d like to close your eyes,” she repeated.

Nesta did. Dadashov moved quickly, quietly, which made it rather eerie when something suddenly settled atop her. A bit of pressure, squeezing her—odd, not painful, just like she said.

“Ah,” Dadashov breathed out.

What was that Nesta could hear? Was it… awe?

“What is it?”

Dadashov was silent for a beat. “Miss Archeron, there is nothing wrong with your body. The heartbeat was irregular because I was hearing more than one.”

“You mean mine?”

“No,” she said, patient. “Not yours.”

Her heart gave a lurch. “You mean… twins?”

“No,” Dadashov said, softer still. “I mean triplets.”

Triplets.

Triplets. Inside of her. Right now.

Nesta could feel her mind shut down. “You mean three of them?” she blurted out, in the most idiotic way she possibly could, her eyes flying open.

“I do.”

Nesta closed her eyes again.

“Would you like to see?” she offered quietly.

Nesta put her hands right over where… where they were supposed to be. She sat up abruptly.

“No,” she said. “I need to… think.”

---

November 7 - 4 years after

He can’t concentrate during the briefing. After being with them for so long… and then coming back here… it’s too much. He’s angry at himself; what if he misspeaks? What if he misses something? This is dangerous.

But he can’t help it. His thoughts are elsewhere.

Nothing had taken away from his love and devotion to this court, to his people, his legions, before. Not even Nesta.

That’s why she had left. He never could find the balance.

Not like Rhys and Feyre, seated next to each other, the perfect mix of professional and adoring. Strategic discussions and little touches here and there: her hair, his thigh.

Is he even a good commander if he can’t concentrate?

They can sense it, all of them. It’s an odd display of cautionary tact that comes up now, whenever Nesta and the children are involved.

So Cassian’s not surprised when Rhys corners him after.

“I’m out of practice,” he says, jerking his head in the direction of the sparring ring. “Join me?”

So he does.

He’s better than Rhys at hand-to-hand, and it does force him to concentrate on something else, which is… nice.

When they’re done, half an hour later, Rhys says, “How did it go?”

Cassian looses a breath slowly as he swirls around the water in the cup Rhys hands him. “So well,” he says, all the gratitude in the world in his voice.

“That’s good,” he says, echoing Mor’s sentiments from earlier.

“I need them.” He’s never said it aloud before.

“I know.”

“All of them. Nesta too.”

“I know,” Rhys repeats. “That’s why I want them here.”

Cassian snorts. “You want Nesta here?”

“I want you here. Happy. And Feyre. Elain. She’s a part of that. And I’m certainly not suggesting we move the children back and forth.”

Cassian pauses. “I don’t know if… Nesta… could be happy here.”

Rhys is quiet for a minute, drinking his water. “I don’t know her very well,” he says finally, “but I think anyone could be happy here. Given the correct circumstances.” He hesitates. “Have you thought about… getting an apartment?”

Cassian clenches his jaw.

“You said you want her to come for Solstice. I doubt she’ll want to stay here. Or the townhouse. Or the House of Wind. Maybe you should have a place that’s just for you.”

He does like that—that Rhys says you as if there is a them. Perhaps he understands, in a way Mor does not.

“I wish they got along,” he says aloud.

“Who?”

“Nesta and Mor.”

Rhys laughs. “Maybe Emerie can bond them.”

He doubts it. The idea of Nesta and Mor being friends is too ludicrous to even entertain. Neither of them are particularly keen on forgiveness, and they have plenty of reasons to loathe each other. Most of which he doesn’t understand.

“I think she’ll come,” he says.

“You do?” Rhys wouldn’t give him false hope. And he genuinely doesn’t know the answer.

“I do,” he says. “Mostly because Feyre thinks she will, too,” he admits. “But also… I don’t know her well, but I do know enough. I know she’s scared to fail her children.”

It’s a chilling line, miserable to hear. Cassian doesn’t want Nesta to come because she’s scared of what will happen if she doesn’t; he wants her to want to come.

“There’s a place I think you’ll like,” Rhys continues, either unaware of Cassian’s reaction or respectfully ignoring it. “Property just went up for sale. Four bedrooms. Nice yard. Good location.” Rhys gives him the address.

“I’ll look at it,” he says. Four bedrooms, he thinks.

---

December 19 - Year of

Despite what Nesta told Emerie before her dinner with Cassian, the past three weeks had not been fake cordial. They hadn’t even been real cordial.

They had been… friendly.

They had breakfast together, when he was there. And dinner, too. He always had dinner ready for her when she came home.

(That was something alarming: she began to think of coming back to Cassian’s house as coming home.)

He brought her more books to read. He didn’t speak of his brothers or her sisters. Neither did she. They talked about food. About the going-ons in the neighboring camps. About themselves.

He still teased her, but when she snapped at him for it, she wasn’t really angry.

She had almost forgotten they were supposed to be treading on eggshells until he reminded her.

He said, “I need to go back to Velaris. For Solstice.”

Her eyes flashed, but she was still staring at her book, so perhaps he didn’t see. “Oh, when is that?” she asked, in a would-be casual tone. She knew full well, and he knew she did, too.

“Two days.”

“Oh.”

Perhaps the both of them were thinking… no, they were both definitely thinking of their last Solstice together. If they could call it that.

Then it was Cassian’s turn to pretend. “Do you want to come along?”

Nesta put down her book and leaned back against the couch. “No,” she said, looking up at the ceiling and locking her fingers behind her head. “I think I’ll stay here.”

“All right,” he said evenly. He sat down beside her—a little closer than he had ever done before. “Well, I leave you then with this… to keep you company.”

Nesta looked down at his outstretched hand.

The chocolate bar. The one she still hadn’t touched.

A wry sort of chuckle escaped her as she rolled her eyes at him. “Thanks,” she said as she took it from him, her fingers jolting as they brushed his.

He grinned wickedly. “Anytime.”

She dropped her gaze quickly. “You’re bothering me.” She took her book back.

He laughed. “I’ll see you in a few days, Nes.”

“Don’t call me that,” she grumbled.

But again, it was only halfhearted.

---

November 21 - 1 year after

What Nesta wanted when she stumbled out of the clinic was somewhere quiet, alone, to gather her thoughts. Or scream.

Instead she got that deer-satyr from Sugar Books, holding up a cup of something steaming.

“Hey,” he said pleasantly. “I was just coming over to bring you this.”

“Oh, for the love of all that is holy,” she said under her breath. Louder, to him, she said, “I really can’t right now.”

“Just a drink,” he said, holding it out to her. “Do you like chocolate?”

She bit her lip. She did like chocolate. She did not like feeling like she owed males something.

“Just take it,” he encouraged. “And come on. I can show you some place nice to sit.”

It wasn’t that she wanted to go with him. It’s that she had nowhere else.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said, not realizing she had spoken aloud until he answered.

“About what?”

“I don’t...” she mumbled to herself. “I don’t think… I can’t...”

“Woah, Nesta. Here. Sit down. Here, drink some of this.”

It wasn’t the same. One was quiet, a bad memory, hazy. Something she could convince herself didn’t happen.

But three? Three was so… real. Three different beings. Three different people! How could there be three people inside of her, growing and feeding off of her? All together? How small must they be, for them all to fit?

And they all had heartbeats. Three tiny hearts, beating out of sync with each other deep inside her. Each of them with its own rhythm, its own strong pulse.

In another life, another world, another body, three sisters had once shared a bed. What would have happened if they had shared time in the womb? All three of them, together?

Sisters deserved beds of their own, that much she knew for sure.

Three was too much. Too much to think about, and yet too much to have.

Bad things come in threes. Didn’t they say that? People said that, she was sure of it.

Maybe, she thought wildly, she could keep one. Just one. And the others… somehow…

No. That was crazy. She couldn’t do that. Could she?

And how would she choose?

“I can’t do this,” she said again.

“Nesta, please, drink this.” Zayn wrapped her fingers around the cup. “Go on, drink.”

As the hot, berry-chocolate drink slipped down her throat, she realized three other people were going to have it, too.

“I—I,” Nesta stammered.

“What is it?” He sounded too eager. Was that concern?

“I… I have to… get a house.”

---

November 8 - 4 years after

Rhys was right. He does like the house.

It’s a great location. Comfortable walk from the bank of the Sidra he always sees families play. Close enough to the Rainbow that they can walk there, too. A bakery on the corner, a butcher’s just beyond, and a market a block down. And a nursery, too, just three streets away.

It’s spacious. Big windows and less doors than there are rooms. There’s a proper dining area—Nesta’s house doesn’t really have one, just the table in the kitchen.

Of the bedrooms, two are a bit smaller than the third, so that, he supposes, is where the children can stay while they all sleep in the same room. A nice tub in that bathroom, which is good, they’re still small enough that they bathe together…

And he’s just pushed open the door to the master when he hears Amren say from behind him, “In the market for a family home?”

He turns. “Are you? I thought Varian was looking romanced last I saw him. That explains it.”

She rolls her eyes where she once might have bared her teeth. “Close to a nursery,” she says, pushing past him to stand in the room. “And you can see all the way to the park from here,” she adds, peering through the window. “Good for if you’re staying in bed.”

Now Cassian rolls his eyes, if only to hide the clench in his jaw.

“Is she coming for Solstice, then?”

Amren says it the same way she says everything: cool, detached, unbothered. But Cassian knows. “She hasn’t given me an answer yet.”

Amren pretends to take interest in the sample decorative pillows. “What do you think she’ll say?”

“I don’t know. Yes, I hope.”

She puts down the pillow. “You’re too hopeful. It doesn’t help you think.”

“You’ve not asked about her at all,” he says, sitting down on the bed.

“I don’t think there’s anything I want to know.” She doesn’t say it with malice.

“You don’t care?”

“She’s alive. She’s fine.”

“We thought she was dead.”

“We were wrong.” She pauses. “If you had known… where she was… would you have gone?”

“Of course,” he says immediately.

“Why did you not go when you knew she was in Montesere?”

He flinches. Do you even care about her? is what she’s asking. Is it only for the children?

Every regret he has has something to do with her.

“Why didn’t you go?”

“I do not go now,” she says simply. “I was angry when she left. When we thought she was dead and we looked for her I was angry. And I’m angry now.”

“She’s not the only one to blame.”

Amren shrugs. “I can be angry at more than one person. Don’t sit on the bed like that.”

“Like what?”

“Longing. Yearning. Pathetic.”

“I’m not yearning.”

“You are. It doesn’t flatter you. Nesta will come.”

“How do you know that?” She sounds so certain, so matter-of-fact and cavalier.

She gestures to him. “It’s not one-sided.”

Cassian moves his eyes out towards the window, feeling very out his element. “She has a life of her own.”

“I know about her bookstore. That doesn’t matter.”

“It matters.”

She waves a hand. “Not in the grand scheme of things. Nesta Archeron is very much herself. She doesn’t change. She decides on things before she knows she wants them. And she doesn’t change her mind.”

Amren leaves him alone with his thoughts. She’s simplifying things, he knows, but he desperately hopes the core of it is right.

She had asked him why he didn’t go. He waits in masochistic anticipation for the day Nesta asks him that as well. Why he had not followed up on her letters, vague and frustrating as they were.

There’s nothing he can really do about it now. Except maybe make an offer on the house.

---

Chapter Fourteen

#nessian au #acotar au #acotar fanfiction #nesta archeron #cassian #allllll riiiight here we go!#by which i mean i'm going to go make focaccia #and so not going to blabber in the tags this time around #perhaps i will bless you with pictures of my focaccia later tonight #and blabber on about whatever #love y'all<3

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