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callsigns-haze · 2 months ago

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Greatest treasure

Summary: Eris, newly crowned High Lord of Autumn, prepares for a grand ball while keeping his wife and their three-year-old son, Azer, a secret from the courts. During the event, Azer accidentally reveals his fire magic, causing panic and leading the Inner Circle to discover his existence. Meanwhile, Eris and Y/N, lost in their own world, share a passionate moment in the rain before returning to find their son distressed.

Warning: Contains alcohol, cursing, teasing, mentions of smut, kissing, court politics, mentions of war, distress.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Eris stands by the window of Azer’s nursery, the late-afternoon sun casting a warm golden glow over the room. The space is cozy, filled with soft autumn hues—deep oranges, rich reds, and browns, like the leaves of the season his court embodies. Your three-year-old son, Azer, sits on the plush rug near his bed, his copper hair glinting like flames in the light. His amber eyes, so much like his father’s, are rimmed with unshed tears as he clutches a small wooden fox, one of his favourite toys.

“Mama, Dada,” Azer says, his tiny voice trembling. “Why can’t I come? Wanna come, too!”

You kneel beside him, smoothing back a lock of his fiery hair. “Oh, my little love,” you say gently, your heart breaking at the wobble in his voice. “This ball is for grown-ups. You get to stay here and have fun with Miss Lyra tonight.”

“But I wanna see,” he hiccups, his face crumpling as tears begin to fall. He tries to hold them back, but soon, soft sobs wrack his small body. “I wanna be with you, Mama. With Dada.”

Eris moves from the window, his regal presence as commanding as ever, though his sharp features soften as he crouches beside you. He reaches out, his long fingers tenderly brushing away Azer’s tears. “Little firefox,” he murmurs, his voice rich and soothing, “I know you’re upset. But you’re my biggest treasure, and treasures like you need to be kept safe.”

Azer hiccups again, his small chest heaving as he shakes his head. “Not treasure. Azer!” he cries, his voice breaking. “Wanna go with Mama and Dada!”

Eris chuckles softly, though his eyes glisten with emotion. “Oh, you are most definitely Azer,” he says, his lips quirking into a smile. “But you’re also my treasure. And treasures stay where they’re safe. Do you understand, little firefox?”

Azer clings to your dress, burying his face against your leg, his tiny fingers fisting the fabric. His sobs quiet slightly, though his hiccups continue. “No ball,” he mumbles, still unconvinced.

You exchange a glance with Eris, your heart aching at the sight of your son’s distress. Eris leans forward, lifting Azer into his arms despite the toddler’s reluctance to let go of you. “Come here, little one,” Eris says, his voice soft as he cradles Azer against his chest. “I know it’s hard, but I promise we won’t be gone forever. And while we’re away, you’ll have a grand time with Miss Lyra. She’ll tell you stories, maybe even about foxes.”

Azer sniffles, his arms wrapping tightly around Eris’s neck as he presses his tear-streaked face into his father’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna,” he whispers, though his sobs are slowing.

A knock at the door signals Lyra’s arrival. The young fae woman steps inside, her kind smile unwavering even as she takes in the scene. “Hello, Azer,” she says gently. “I hear we’re going to have an adventure tonight.”

Eris looks at her over Azer’s head, his expression unreadable but his tone laced with quiet authority. “Good luck,” he murmurs.

Lyra nods, her smile unwavering. “We’ll be just fine, my lord.”

Gently, Eris pulls Azer away from his shoulder, holding him so they’re eye to eye. “Be good for Miss Lyra, little firefox,” he says softly. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

Azer sniffles but nods reluctantly, his small hand reaching out for you one last time. You kiss his forehead, murmuring reassurances before Eris passes him to Lyra.

As you and Eris leave the nursery, the sound of Azer’s soft hiccups follows you, tugging at your heart. Eris takes your hand in his, squeezing gently. “He’ll be fine,” he says, though you suspect he’s reassuring himself as much as you.

Eris strides down the corridor beside you, his hand resting lightly at the small of your back. The grandeur of the Autumn Court is on full display tonight, with servants bustling to and fro, preparing the grand hall for the event of the decade. Despite the meticulous perfection surrounding you—the gleaming floors, the intricate floral arrangements of russet and gold—you can feel the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame.

His jaw is set, his golden eyes narrowed in thought, and his long fingers occasionally twitch at his side, as though yearning for something to grip. You pause mid-step, turning to face him fully.

“Eris,” you say softly, resting a hand on his chest. “We still have two hours before the ball. What’s on your mind?”

He blinks down at you, momentarily startled, before his expression softens. Still, the strain remains etched in his features. “All the High Lords and their families under one roof,” he murmurs, his voice low and thoughtful. “It’s an honour, but also a risk. There’s no telling what alliances may shift tonight—or what grievances may surface.”

You reach up, cupping his cheek, and he leans into your touch for just a moment, closing his eyes. “You’ve worked so hard for this, Eris,” you say, your voice steady and reassuring. “Your father ruled with fear, but you’ve brought peace. Everyone will see that tonight.”

His lips twitch into a faint smile, though his eyes remain shadowed. “Peace is fragile,” he replies, his hand covering yours where it rests on his face. “One misstep, one word out of place, and it can shatter.”

Before you can respond, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes down the corridor. You turn just in time to see Lucien rounding the corner, his auburn hair slightly dishevelled as though he’d been in a rush. His russet eye sparkles with mischief, but the golden mechanical one remains as stoic as ever.

“Ah, there you are,” Lucien says, his tone light as he approaches. “And here I thought you might still be in the nursery with Azer. Poor kid looked ready to stage a rebellion when I passed by earlier.”

Eris snorts softly, though the tension in his shoulders eases ever so slightly. “He’s not happy about missing tonight,” he admits, glancing toward the direction of the nursery.

Lucien raises a brow, his trademark smirk firmly in place. “Well, can you blame him? I wouldn’t want to miss a chance to see all the High Lords bickering like children either.”

You laugh, and even Eris’s lips curve into a reluctant smile. “You always know how to lighten the mood, Lucien,” you say, grateful for his timing.

Lucien winks at you, then looks back at his brother. “Don’t let them get to you, Eris. This is your court now. They’re all just guests in your house.”

Eris inclines his head, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. “Wise words,” he says, his tone laced with amusement. “For once.”

Lucien feigns offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” he quips before straightening. “I’ll see you both later. Just try not to burn the place down before the ball starts.”

As he saunters off, you glance at Eris, catching the way his lips have softened into a true smile. For a moment, the weight on his shoulders seems lighter, and you take his hand in yours.

“Lucien’s right,” you say quietly. “This is your court. And tonight, they’ll see the ruler you’ve become.”

Eris squeezes your hand, his gaze holding yours with a warmth that speaks louder than words. “With you by my side,” he murmurs, “I can face anything.”

Eris’s golden eyes hold yours as the tension in his frame melts away, replaced by something softer, more intimate. Without a word, he steps closer, his hand sliding from your waist to the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, and presses a feather-light kiss to your lips. It’s tender and unhurried, a quiet moment in the chaos of the day.

When he pulls back, his gaze searches yours, his expression open in a way he allows only for you. “How are you feeling?” he asks softly, his voice low and laced with concern.

You hesitate, glancing down at your joined hands before looking back up at him. “Nervous,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “This is my first ball, Eris. And not just any ball—it’s your ball. Everyone will be watching, judging.”

His brows knit together, and he shakes his head slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a reassuring smile. “Let them watch,” he says, his tone firm but soothing. “Let them judge. You are my wife, my queen. No opinion matters more than mine, and in my eyes, you are perfection.”

Your chest tightens at his words, emotion welling up inside you. “You make it sound so simple,” you murmur, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

He leans down again, his lips brushing your forehead this time, lingering as though to anchor you. “Because it is,” he murmurs against your skin. “They’ll see your strength, your grace, just as I do. You’ve already won them over, my love. They just don’t know it yet.”

His confidence, steady and unwavering, wraps around you like a protective shield. You nod slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing as you draw strength from his presence. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice steadier now.

Eris straightens, his hand still cradling your face, his thumb tracing idle circles on your cheek. “Thank me later,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes. “After you’ve dazzled them all.”

A laugh escapes you, soft and light, and you realize how much he’s managed to calm you with just a few words and a single kiss. “I’ll hold you to that,” you reply, your smile widening.

“You always do,” he says with a smirk, his fingers lacing through yours as he leads you further down the hall, his hand a steady, grounding presence in yours.

The grand staircase of the Autumn Court’s palace gleams before you, each step a work of art with intricate carvings of leaves and vines, polished to a mirror-like sheen. You descend slowly, your arm looped through Eris’s, the weight of the evening settling over you with each step. The chandeliers above—crafted from amber and crystal—cast a warm glow that dances across the walls, making the entire space seem alive.

As you step onto the marble floor of the ballroom, you pause, taking in the sheer magnitude of the space. The room stretches farther than you remember, its high vaulted ceilings adorned with autumn leaves that seem to flutter as though caught in a gentle breeze. The rich hues of gold, crimson, and burnt orange dominate the décor, and the air is filled with the soft hum of string instruments warming up in the far corner.

You glance around, your brows furrowing slightly as you take in the grandeur. “Did it… get bigger?” you ask, your voice quiet but tinged with awe.

Eris glances down at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Not exactly,” he replies, his tone amused. “Though I did make a few… adjustments.”

“Adjustments?” you repeat, arching a brow as you look back at the ballroom.

He gestures subtly toward the far end of the room, where a raised dais now sits, flanked by towering arrangements of fiery flowers. “The ceiling was enchanted to give the illusion of more space,” he explains, his voice laced with pride. “And the dais was added to ensure everyone has a clear view of their High Lord and Lady tonight.”

You bite back a smile, glancing up at him. “You mean so they can have a clear view of you.”

His golden eyes glint mischievously as he leans in closer, his breath brushing your ear. “Perhaps,” he murmurs, his voice low, “but I suspect they’ll find their gazes drawn to you.”

Heat rises to your cheeks at his words, but you quickly compose yourself, your gaze sweeping over the ballroom once more. The attention to detail is staggering, from the delicate leaf patterns etched into the marble columns to the soft golden light that seems to bathe everything in warmth. The room hums with anticipation, even though most of the guests have yet to arrive.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” you say, your voice soft but sincere.

Eris tilts his head, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “It’s not just for me,” he says quietly. “This is your debut as well. I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you squeeze his arm gently, your nerves settling ever so slightly. “It’s perfect,” you assure him, and for the first time that evening, you truly believe it.

As you and Eris walk further into the grand ballroom, the low hum of the musicians tuning their instruments fills the air, mingling with the soft rustle of your gown as it sweeps across the polished marble floor. Despite the grandeur surrounding you, your thoughts drift back to the nursery, to the way Azer clung to you, his little hands trembling as he sobbed.

You stop walking, your steps faltering as a pang of guilt twists in your chest. Eris notices immediately, turning to face you, his golden eyes filled with concern. “What is it?” he asks, his voice low and gentle.

You glance around the empty room, ensuring no one is near enough to overhear, before looking back at him. “I feel terrible about leaving Azer,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “He was so upset, Eris. The way he cried, the way he begged to come with us…” Your throat tightens, and you shake your head, willing yourself not to let the guilt overwhelm you.

Eris’s expression softens, and he steps closer, his hand coming to rest against your cheek. “Little firefox is safe,” he says gently. “Lyra will care for him as if he were her own. You know that.”

“I know,” you murmur, your voice trembling slightly. “But it doesn’t make it any easier. He doesn’t understand why we had to leave. All he knows is that we’re not there, and he wanted to be with us.”

Eris sighs softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a soothing gesture. “I feel it too,” he admits, his tone quieter now. “Every time he cries like that, it feels like my heart is being torn apart. But this—tonight—is important. For our court, for our family. He’ll understand one day.”

You look up at him, searching his face for reassurance. “What if he doesn’t, Eris? What if he remembers this as the night we chose the court over him?”

His brows knit together, and he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. “He won’t,” he says firmly. “Because when this ball is over, we’ll go straight back to him. We’ll hold him, kiss him, tell him how much we love him. Azer knows he’s our world—he feels it every day in the way we care for him.”

The conviction in his voice eases some of the tension in your chest, and you close your eyes, drawing strength from his presence. “I just hate seeing him so upset,” you whisper.

Eris tilts your chin up, his golden eyes locking with yours. “So do I,” he says softly. “But Azer is strong, just like his mother. And Lyra is with him. He’s safe, loved, and cared for. That’s what matters most.”

You nod slowly, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “You’re right,” you say, though the ache in your chest lingers. “I just needed to say it.”

His lips curve into a small smile, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. “You never need to keep anything from me,” he murmurs. “Not your fears, not your guilt. I’ll carry them with you, always.”

The grand ballroom is serene for a moment, the soft hum of the musicians and the flicker of enchanted autumn leaves overhead creating a tranquil atmosphere. You’ve just started to steady yourself, leaning into Eris’s calming presence, when the sound of frantic footsteps echoes through the halls.

Eris straightens, his golden eyes narrowing as he turns toward the source of the commotion. The double doors at the far end of the ballroom burst open with a resounding thud, and Alev, one of Eris’s younger brothers, comes barrelling in. His crimson hair is wild, his face flushed with exertion. Behind him, Lucien storms into the room, his expression murderous, his mechanical eye glowing ominously.

“You little bastard!” Lucien shouts, his voice reverberating off the marble walls. “I’m going to kill you!”

Alev skids to a stop in the centre of the ballroom, his chest heaving as he glances around wildly. His gaze lands on you and Eris, and he raises his hands in mock surrender. “Eris! Help! Your psychotic brother’s lost it!”

Lucien’s growl is low and dangerous as he stalks toward Alev, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Lost it? You set my bloody room on fire, you little menace!”

Alev’s eyes widen in mock innocence, his lips twitching as though he’s holding back laughter. “I didn’t set it on fire! I just—enhanced the ambiance! You know, for the ball.”

“Enhanced the ambiance?” Lucien roars, his mechanical eye flaring brighter. “You scorched half my wardrobe!”

Eris pinches the bridge of his nose, a long-suffering sigh escaping him. “For the love of the Cauldron,” he mutters under his breath before stepping forward, his authoritative presence silencing the chaos.

“Alev,” Eris says, his tone calm but laced with warning. “What did you do?”

Alev shifts nervously, the smirk fading slightly under his older brother’s piercing gaze. “It was just a little spell,” he admits, his voice lighter than it should be. “A small spark to set the mood. I may have underestimated how... flammable Lucien’s curtains were.”

Lucien points an accusatory finger at him. “Curtains, rugs, half the bloody furniture—Eris, I swear, if you don’t deal with him, I will.”

Eris raises a hand, silencing Lucien with a single look. “Alev,” he says slowly, his voice like a crackling flame, “do you have any idea how much chaos you’ve caused? Tonight of all nights?”

Alev grins sheepishly. “I was trying to help! You know, add a little Autumn Court flair to his otherwise... bland quarters.”

Lucien lets out an incredulous laugh, clearly seconds away from lunging at his brother. “Bland? You—”

“Enough,” Eris snaps, his voice sharp and commanding. Both brothers freeze, their gazes snapping to him. He exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “Alev, go fix what you’ve destroyed. Now. And if I hear so much as a whisper of another incident tonight, you’ll wish it was Lucien dealing with you instead of me.”

Alev blinks, then nods quickly. “Right. Fix it. Got it.” He turns on his heel and bolts for the doors, though not without throwing Lucien a cheeky grin over his shoulder.

Lucien groans, running a hand through his hair as he turns to Eris. “You see what I have to deal with? How have you not strangled him yet?”

Eris smirks faintly, his composure returning. “Patience,” he replies, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “And the knowledge that one day, he’ll slip up enough to give me a good excuse.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, the tension from earlier momentarily lifted. Eris turns to you, his expression softening. “Shall we expect more dramatics tonight, or are you ready to face the ball?”

“With your family?” you tease lightly. “I’d say both are inevitable.”

Eris chuckles, offering you his arm once more. “You’re learning,” he says with a smirk, leading you toward the doors. “Now, let’s see if we can survive the evening without another catastrophe.”

You pause just before the grand ballroom doors, your arm still looped through Eris’s. Your gaze lingers on him, soft and questioning, and he stops in his tracks. He knows that look of yours—he’s learned it all too well. The unspoken request, the subtle tilt of your head, the way your lips press together as though you’re carefully choosing your words.

“You want to go check on him,” Eris says quietly, his voice laced with understanding.

You nod, biting your lip. “I know Lyra is with him, and I know he’s fine, but… this is the longest I’ll have been away from him since he was born. It feels—”

“Strange,” Eris finishes for you, his golden eyes softening as they meet yours. “I know.”

You glance down at the floor, guilt pooling in your chest. “I just… I need to see him, Eris. Just for a moment.”

He gently lifts your chin with his fingers, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “My love,” he says softly, his tone carrying a calm authority, “I understand how you feel. Truly. But Azer is safe. This is good for him. He needs to learn a little independence, and so do you.”

You blink at him, your emotions warring within you. “I just feel like I’m abandoning him,” you whisper.

Eris sighs, his hand slipping to rest on your waist. “You’re not abandoning him. You’re showing him that his mother is more than just his caretaker. That she’s strong, graceful, and capable of leading beside me. And when we go back to him tonight, he’ll see that too.”

You nod slowly, his words sinking in, though the ache in your chest remains. Before you can reply, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes behind you, and you both turn just as Alev comes bounding into the room.

“Alev,” Eris says sharply, his brows furrowing, “what now?”

Alev skids to a stop, his hair still slightly dishevelled, though his grin is as irreverent as ever. “Relax, brother,” he says, holding up his hands. “I just thought I’d let you know—I stopped by the nursery on my way back down.”

You inhale sharply, your attention snapping to him. “And? How was Azer?”

Alev hesitates for half a second, glancing nervously over your shoulder. It’s only then that he sees the warning glare Eris is shooting him—a silent command to tread carefully.

“Oh, uh… he’s fine!” Alev says quickly, his grin widening. “Totally fine. Lyra had him all snuggled up in his favourite blanket. He wasn’t crying or anything. Just… looking at his little fox toy. Happy as can be.”

You exhale a shaky breath, relief washing over you. “Thank you, Alev,” you say sincerely, your shoulders relaxing.

Alev shrugs, his grin turning a little sheepish. “No problem. Figured you’d want to know.”

Behind you, Eris arches a brow, his golden eyes still fixed on his younger brother. “Thank you for your… insightful report,” he says dryly, though his tone carries an unspoken promise of consequences if Alev had dared say anything to upset you.

Alev throws him a mock salute before backing away, his grin still in place. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it. Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone.”

As he disappears back into the corridor, Eris sighs and turns to you, his hands sliding to rest on your arms. “See? He’s fine,” he says softly. “And now, so are you. Let’s do this together.”

You nod, leaning into him for a brief moment before squaring your shoulders. “Okay,” you whisper, allowing him to guide you forward.

With Eris by your side, you take the final step into the ballroom, ready to face whatever the evening holds.

-----

The ballroom is alive with music, laughter, and the soft clinking of glasses, but it all feels distant, a blurred backdrop to your rising tension. You sit at one of the ornately carved tables near the edge of the room, the deep burgundy of your wine a sharp contrast to the delicate gold trim of the goblet you hold. You take another sip—no, more like a gulp—your grip on the stem tight enough to make your knuckles ache.

Three hours. Three endless hours. You’ve smiled, curtsied, and exchanged pleasantries with the High Lords of Spring, Dawn, Summer, and Winter. Each interaction had felt like a delicate dance, one misstep away from disaster. Tamlin of Spring had been cordial enough, though his words carried a stiffness that matched the tight line of his jaw. Thesan of Dawn had been polite and warm, his genuine curiosity about your role as Lady of Autumn easing some of your nerves, if only for a moment. The Summer Court’s Tarquin had offered a quiet strength in his presence, his words measured but kind. Kallias of Winter had been formal, his icy demeanour a stark contrast to the fiery warmth of the Autumn Court.

And through it all, you’d managed to maintain the poised, composed exterior that Eris had assured you would command their respect. But now, seated alone at the table, your mask of grace and elegance is beginning to crack.

Your gaze flicks across the room to the Night Court delegation, where Lucien is engaged in animated conversation with Rhysand, Feyre, and their inner circle. Even from this distance, you can see the easy camaraderie between them, the subtle smiles and the occasional laughter that spill from their group. You know Lucien feels more at home with them than he does here, and while you understand, it does little to soothe your unease.

Helion, at least, had been a comforting presence earlier in the evening. You’d known him long before tonight, ever since Eris’s mother, Arlene, had moved into the Day Court after Beron’s death. Helion’s warmth and humour had provided a brief reprieve from the relentless formalities of the evening, but now, with him occupied elsewhere, you feel untethered.

Eris is across the room, locked in conversation with one of his advisors, his expression sharp and unreadable. You know he’s keeping an eye on you, even from afar, but right now, his watchful presence does little to ease the knot of anxiety in your chest.

As you lift your goblet for another sip, a familiar voice cuts through the noise. “You look like you’re plotting someone’s demise,” Alev remarks, his tone laced with amusement as he slides into the seat beside you.

You glance at him, raising a brow. “And if I were?”

He grins, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual defiance. “Depends. Is it someone I’d enjoy watching you take down?”

A small, reluctant smile tugs at your lips, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I think the only thing keeping me from snapping is this wine,” you admit, swirling the liquid in your goblet. “And even that might not be enough.”

Alev chuckles, his crimson hair catching the golden glow of the chandeliers above. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. You’ve survived half the High Lords already. What’s one more?”

You cast a pointed glance at the Night Court, where Lucien is still deep in conversation. “It’s not just one more,” you say quietly. “It’s Rhysand and his entire inner circle. They’re… intimidating.”

Alev follows your gaze, his expression thoughtful. “They don’t look so scary to me. Lucien seems to be holding his own.”

“Lucien is used to them,” you counter. “I’m not.”

He shrugs, his grin returning. “Well, if they give you any trouble, just sic Eris on them. Or me. I’d be happy to cause a little chaos on your behalf.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “That’s the last thing we need tonight, Alev.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, his tone teasing. “But it’d make for a more entertaining evening, wouldn’t it?”

You can’t help but smile at his antics, the tension in your shoulders easing just slightly. Alev may be a troublemaker, but in moments like this, his irreverent humour is exactly what you need.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, your voice barely audible over the din of the ballroom.

He glances at you, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “Anytime,” he says, his voice steady and sincere.

As the night drags on, the noise in the ballroom seems to grow louder, the laughter and chatter blending into an indistinct hum. You glance over at Eris, still engaged in conversation with his advisor, his posture rigid and his expression betraying the strain of the evening.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you see him step away from the group. His stride is slower than usual, his shoulders slightly slumped, and his usually sharp golden eyes seem dimmer, weighed down by the demands of his title.

He spots you immediately, his gaze softening as he makes his way across the room. The exhaustion etched into his features is stark, his mask of courtly perfection slipping now that he’s out of the scrutinizing eyes of the other lords and advisors.

When he reaches your table, he lets out a long, quiet sigh and sits down heavily beside you. His hand brushes over yours briefly before he leans back, rubbing his temples.

“Tired already, my Lord?” you tease lightly, though your voice carries a note of sympathy.

He lets out a dry chuckle, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “If I hear one more thinly veiled threat disguised as flattery, I might set the whole ballroom on fire.”

You laugh softly and pick up your goblet, extending it toward him without a word. He glances at you, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but he doesn’t hesitate. He takes the wine from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours, and drinks deeply.

When he sets the goblet down, he exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

“Anytime,” you reply, your lips quirking into a small smile. “Consider it a perk of having me as your wife.”

His golden eyes meet yours, a spark of warmth cutting through his exhaustion. “The best perk,” he says quietly, his hand finding yours under the table and giving it a gentle squeeze.

His hand still resting over yours, his thumb tracing idle circles against your skin. There’s a spark of something in his eyes now, a lightness that hadn’t been there earlier. He shifts in his seat, straightening slightly, and turns to face you fully.

“Dance with me,” he says softly, his voice low and inviting, though it’s more a request than a command.

You blink at him, momentarily surprised. “Here? Now?”

His lips curve into a faint smirk. “Why not? I’m owed at least one dance tonight, and I’d rather have it with you than anyone else.”

You glance around the bustling ballroom, the glittering gowns and polished boots of the other guests reflecting the glow of the chandeliers above. Before you can voice any hesitation, Eris stands and offers his hand to you, his golden eyes glinting with determination.

“Come,” he murmurs. “I know a better place.”

Intrigued, you slide your hand into his, letting him guide you away from the crowded floor. He leads you toward the grand doors that have been opened to the gardens, where the fresh, crisp scent of rain drifts in on the cool night air. The gardens, transformed into an extended ballroom, glimmer under the soft glow of floating lanterns.

The rain is gentle, a light mist that barely kisses your skin as Eris steps into the open garden, the soft patter against the stone tiles creating a melody of its own. He turns to you, his hair catching the golden light, and extends his hand again.

“Will you dance with me here?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost tender.

You glance up at the misty sky, the droplets shimmering like tiny diamonds as they fall. “It’s raining,” you say, though there’s no protest in your tone.

“A little rain never hurt anyone,” Eris replies, his lips quirking into a playful smile. “Besides, it’s quieter here. Just us.”

Your heart flutters at the sincerity in his words, and you place your hand in his once more. He pulls you close, one arm wrapping around your waist while the other holds your hand, his grip steady and sure.

As the music from the ballroom drifts faintly into the garden, Eris begins to sway with you, guiding you effortlessly across the rain-slicked tiles. The world feels smaller here, the distant chatter and laughter fading away until it’s just the two of you, moving together under the soft drizzle.

The rain cools your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of Eris’s touch as he holds you close. His gaze never leaves yours, golden and intent, filled with a quiet affection that steals your breath.

“You’ve been incredible tonight,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the gentle patter of rain. “I know how hard this is for you. But you’ve handled it all with grace.”

You shake your head slightly, a small laugh escaping you. “If grace means aggressively sipping wine and hiding from the High Lords, then sure.”

Eris chuckles, his breath warm against your temple as he pulls you even closer. “To me, it means being yourself. Even when it’s hard.”

The sincerity in his words makes your chest ache, and you rest your head against his shoulder, letting him lead you in the quiet dance. The rain falls softly around you, catching in his fiery hair and soaking into the rich fabric of his suit, but neither of you care.

In this moment, with the garden as your ballroom and the rain as your accompaniment, the weight of the evening lifts, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the steady rhythm of your hearts.

-----

From the balcony overlooking the garden, the Night Court’s inner circle had gathered, drawn by the faint sound of laughter and the soft glow of lanterns spilling into the misty rain. Feyre leaned against the railing, her hand loosely intertwined with Rhysand’s, while Cassian and Azriel stood nearby, their dark wings slightly folded, their gazes sharp. Mor and Amren were seated on a cushioned bench, but even they couldn’t resist peering out into the rain-soaked garden below.

The scene unfolding before them was nothing short of surprising.

“There,” Mor murmured, gesturing with a tilt of her chin.

Eris Vanserra, of all people, was dancing in the rain. But it wasn’t the stiff, performative kind of dance they’d expect from the newly crowned High Lord of Autumn. This was… intimate. Genuine.

He moved with an easy grace, his hands firmly guiding his partner—you, his wife—across the rain-slicked stones. The faint music from the ballroom drifted into the night, but it seemed almost irrelevant. The two of you were lost in your own rhythm, your laughter carrying softly on the cool breeze.

“Is that…?” Cassian began, leaning forward as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“It’s his wife,” Feyre confirmed, her lips curving into a faint smile.

Rhysand said nothing, his violet eyes narrowing as he observed Eris’s expression.

They had seen him many times before: sharp, calculating, cruel. A predator dressed in finery. But now? Now, he looked like someone entirely different.

As the inner circle watched, Eris suddenly dropped to one knee, his fiery hair damp with rain, his hand disappearing beneath the delicate folds of your gown. The motion was quick, fluid, and in an instant, he pulled out a dagger from some hidden sheath at his side.

“What the hell is he doing?” Azriel murmured, his shadows swirling with tension.

But their apprehension faded as Eris took the dagger to the hem of your dress, his movements precise as he carefully cut another slit along the fabric. The silk parted easily beneath the blade, creating a matching slit opposite the one already present. He sheathed the dagger just as quickly, the glint of the blade vanishing into the folds of his coat.

You were laughing, your head thrown back as you leaned against his shoulder, and Eris stood, brushing his fingers along the edge of the fabric to ensure it wouldn’t catch. He whispered something to you, too soft for the onlookers to hear, and then—without warning—he lifted you off the ground.

Your laughter rang out, light and joyful, as he spun you in a circle, his hands steady at your waist. The movement was effortless, as though he had done it a thousand times before. The lantern light caught the droplets of rain clinging to his hair, his suit, and most notably, the smile on his face.

A real smile.

Not the cunning smirk he so often wore, nor the sly grin meant to unsettle his enemies. This was something deeper, something softer, something the inner circle had never seen before.

“Is he… smiling?” Cassian asked, incredulous.

Mor leaned forward, her golden hair glinting in the light. “I think he is,” she said, her voice tinged with equal parts awe and disbelief.

“That’s a first,” Amren muttered, though even her silver eyes softened at the sight.

Feyre glanced at Rhys, her brow slightly raised. “Do you think he’s actually happy?” she asked quietly.

Rhysand didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on Eris, watching as he set you back on your feet with a gentleness that seemed impossible for the man they thought they knew. The way his hands lingered at your waist, the way his head tilted down to hear your laugh more clearly—it wasn’t an act.

“I think,” Rhys finally said, his voice low, “we’ve never seen the real Eris Vanserra before.”

Below, Eris leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, his smile lingering as he pulled you closer. The rain continued to fall, unnoticed by either of you, and the inner circle watched in silence, captivated by the unguarded, unexpected display of love from a man they had always considered unfeeling.

For the first time, Eris Vanserra seemed… fae. And it left them with far more questions than answers.

The inner circle remained silent, captivated by the unexpected scene unfolding in the rain-soaked garden below. None of them had ever thought Eris capable of such tenderness, let alone joy. It was a moment so foreign, so incongruous with the man they had come to know, that they could hardly look away.

“Enjoying the show, are we?”

The voice came from behind them, sharp and laced with amusement. They all turned to see Alev Vanserra, Eris’s younger brother, leaning casually against the doorway that led to the balcony. His crimson hair was damp from the rain, and his amber eyes gleamed with a mischievous light.

Cassian narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. “You’re surprisingly cheerful for someone who just fled the ballroom with your brother shouting after you.”

Alev smirked, shrugging one shoulder. “Eris is always shouting about something. I’ve learned to tune it out.”

Mor arched a brow, stepping closer. “And what about you? Shouldn’t you be inside, causing chaos?”

“I could,” Alev said with a mock-serious nod. “But then I wouldn’t get to see all of your reactions to this.” He gestured toward the garden, where Eris had just twirled you again, your dress fanning out as you laughed.

Azriel’s shadows coiled tighter around him, his expression unreadable. “What do you want, Alev?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Alev said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just thought I’d join the peanut gallery for a moment. Watching Eris act like an actual person is a rare event, after all. Wouldn’t want to miss it.”

Feyre tilted her head, studying him. “You don’t seem surprised.”

Alev’s grin softened, just slightly. “Why would I be? He’s always been like this with her. The rest of you just never get to see it.”

That earned a flicker of interest from Rhysand, who regarded Alev with his usual inscrutable expression. “You’re saying this is common?”

“With her? Absolutely,” Alev replied, his gaze drifting back to the garden. “With everyone else? Not so much. She’s… different for him. Special.”

Cassian scoffed, but there was no real malice in it. “Hard to imagine Eris Vanserra being soft for anyone.”

“Maybe that’s your problem,” Alev shot back, his tone still light but carrying an edge. “You’ve all only ever seen the mask he wears for court. That’s not who he is—not completely.”

Rhys’s violet eyes narrowed slightly. “And you’d defend him, after everything?”

Alev’s smirk faded, and for a moment, his gaze hardened. “I’m not defending him,” he said quietly. “I’m just saying there’s more to him than you know. That’s all.”

The inner circle exchanged glances, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

“And if you’ll excuse me,” Alev added, his usual smirk returning, “I’ve got a drink waiting for me inside. Enjoy the show.”

With that, he turned and disappeared back into the ballroom, leaving them to mull over his words as they returned their attention to the rain-drenched garden below.

The rain had picked up slightly, but you hardly noticed, lost in the rhythm of Eris’s movements as he twirled you around the garden. The music from the ballroom drifted faintly on the air, but the sound of your laughter drowned it out, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

Eris spun you faster this time, his hand firm on yours, the other resting at the small of your back. You let out a surprised laugh, swatting at his arm when the spinning became a little too enthusiastic.

“Eris!” you exclaimed, breathless. “You’re going to make me fall.”

He smirked, the playful glint in his golden eyes shining brighter than the lanterns. “I’d never let you fall, my love,” he replied, his voice smooth and teasing. “But you do look rather adorable when you’re dizzy.”

Before you could retort, he abruptly caught you mid-spin and pulled you close, dipping you dramatically. The world tilted, your hands instinctively flying to his shoulders to steady yourself, but his grip was unyielding, his strength evident even in the gentlest touch.

“I’ll have to remember that move,” he teased, his fiery hair falling slightly into his eyes as he leaned down. “It keeps you right where I want you.”

Your heart fluttered at the intensity of his gaze, at the way the rain clung to his lashes and dampened the sharp lines of his face. “You’re impossible,” you said, though your voice lacked any true heat.

“And yet, you’re still here,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting, tantalizing kiss.

You let out a soft laugh, your fingers curling into the fabric of his coat. “For now.”

He arched a brow, his smirk deepening. “Careful, little fox,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he dipped you even lower, his grip unshakable. “You wouldn’t want me to think you’re challenging me.”

The rain fell heavier now, but the warmth of his breath against your skin, the steadiness of his hold, and the fire in his eyes made you forget the chill. Then, without warning, he kissed you again, this time deeper, his lips stealing the last of your breath and leaving you utterly lost in him.

When he finally pulled back, he straightened, bringing you with him as he set you back on your feet. “Admit it,” he said, his voice a mix of smugness and affection. “You’re having fun.”

You rolled your eyes, though your flushed cheeks and lingering smile betrayed you. “You’re lucky I love you,” you muttered, swatting his arm again.

He caught your hand this time, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before spinning you once more, his laughter blending with yours as the rain continued to fall.

Back on the balcony, the inner circle remained transfixed, watching the scene unfold below. Eris’s laughter—actual, genuine laughter—carried faintly through the rain, blending with the sound of your own.

Cassian let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. “I think I’ve seen everything now. Eris Vanserra laughing, smiling, and dancing in the rain? Who knew he had it in him.”

Mor leaned against the railing, her golden hair glinting faintly in the lantern light. “It’s not just the laughing,” she said, her voice quieter, more contemplative. “Look at him. He’s… happy. Like, actually happy.”

“That’s what love will do to you,” Feyre murmured, her lips curving into a small smile as she watched Eris dip you low, your laughter ringing out like a melody.

Amren snorted from her seat, her sharp silver eyes flicking briefly toward the scene. “Or madness. The line between the two is thinner than most think.”

Azriel, standing slightly apart from the group, didn’t respond. His shadows swirled around him, reflecting the tension in his stance, but his gaze remained fixed on Eris. “He’s not who we thought he was,” he said finally, his voice low and even.

Rhysand, who had been quiet for some time, rested his hands on the balcony rail, his violet eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “No,” he agreed. “He’s not.”

The High Lord’s gaze flicked to Alev’s empty chair, a shadow of a smirk tugging at his lips. “His brother wasn’t wrong. We’ve only seen the side of him that benefits his games. This…” He gestured vaguely to the garden below, where Eris had just spun you again, your dress fanning out as you swatted at him, both of you laughing. “This is new. For us, at least.”

“And you’re telling me this,” Cassian said, pointing toward Eris with an incredulous look, “is the same bastard who tried to burn Lucien alive as a kid? The same Eris who—”

“Yes,” Rhys said simply, cutting him off. “But people are more complicated than their worst moments, Cassian. He’s been playing a role for a long time. Maybe too long.”

Cassian grunted, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t argue further.

Mor crossed her arms, her gaze still fixed on the garden. “Do you think he’s changed?”

“Not entirely,” Rhys replied, his tone careful. “But maybe he’s… trying.”

“Or maybe she’s the one who changes him,” Feyre added softly, her eyes warm as she watched you laugh and lean into Eris’s chest.

Amren huffed. “Let’s not start romanticizing the brute just yet. A few dances in the rain don’t erase centuries of cruelty.”

“No,” Feyre agreed, turning her gaze toward Rhys. “But it does mean there’s more to him than we thought. And maybe that’s worth watching.”

As the conversation continued, Eris dipped you once more, pressing a kiss to your lips that left you smiling even as the rain began to drench your hair and dress. The sight of his rare, unguarded happiness lingered in their minds, sparking a quiet, uneasy realization: the man they thought they knew might not be the whole story after all.

The rain, which had started as a light drizzle, suddenly intensified into a downpour. The soft patter turned into a symphony of heavy drops, soaking through your dress and Eris’s fine clothes in seconds.

You let out a startled laugh, trying to shield your face with your hands as the water cascaded down. “Eris!” you exclaimed, blinking against the deluge. “This is no longer romantic—it’s a storm!”

Eris, his fiery hair plastered to his forehead, grinned mischievously. “Didn’t you say you wanted an unforgettable night, little fox?”

Before you could respond, he grabbed your hand, tugging you forward with an energy that made your heart race. “Come on!”

“Where are we going?” you called, laughing even as you stumbled after him.

“To the other side of the garden!” he shouted over the roar of the rain, his voice carrying above the chaos.

The two of you darted through the garden, your soaked skirts clinging to your legs and slowing your pace. Eris kept a firm grip on your hand, guiding you expertly around puddles and flowerbeds as you both ran toward the sheltered pavilion on the far side.

The rain lashed harder, drenching every inch of you, but neither of you seemed to care. Your laughter mingled with the storm, and despite the chill, there was a warmth in the way Eris glanced back at you, his golden eyes bright with exhilaration.

Finally, you reached the pavilion, the stone archway offering a reprieve from the downpour. You collapsed against one of the columns, breathless and laughing, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

Eris joined you, his hands braced on either side of the column as he leaned in close, droplets of rain rolling down his sharp jawline. “You’re drenched,” he said, his tone teasing but his gaze soft.

“So are you,” you shot back, flicking a strand of wet hair from your face.

He chuckled, his fingers reaching up to tuck the errant strand behind your ear. “You look beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his words. “You’re impossible,” you whispered, though your smile betrayed your affection.

“And you love me for it,” he replied, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your rain-slicked lips.

For a moment, the world faded—the storm, the ball, the weight of the crown Eris now wore. It was just the two of you, drenched and laughing, hidden away in your own little corner of the garden.

The inner circle remained on the balcony, now huddled beneath the stone awning to avoid the storm's reach. The rain lashed against the marble, a distant echo to the laughter that had accompanied you and Eris as you darted out of sight into the garden. The scene below was empty now, the storm masking all but the faint music from the ballroom.

Lucien approached from the stairwell, his auburn hair slightly damp, his gold and russet eye catching the flickering light of the lanterns. He paused when he saw them, his lips curving into a wry smile.

“You’re all watching him like he’s some sort of rare creature in the wild,” he said, crossing his arms as he joined them at the railing.

Cassian leaned against the stone, smirking. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t worth watching. Your brother, spinning his wife like a lovestruck fool in the middle of a downpour?” He chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Lucien arched a brow, his good eye narrowing slightly. “Careful, Cassian. Eris isn’t as oblivious as you’d like to think. He’s likely aware of every one of you standing here gawking.”

Mor scoffed, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “He didn’t even glance this way. He was too busy playing prince charming.”

“He didn’t need to,” Lucien said, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “Eris always knows his surroundings, especially now. But I suppose none of you would understand how much that crown weighs—on him, on her.”

Rhysand tilted his head slightly, watching Lucien with mild curiosity. “You sound almost… sympathetic, Lucien.”

Lucien shrugged, his gaze drifting toward the rain-soaked garden. “I know what it’s like to have people assume they know you, to reduce you to your worst moments. And I know what it’s like to see someone you care about carry more than they should.”

His words hung in the air, a quiet truth none of them could argue.

Azriel’s shadows coiled tighter, his voice breaking the silence. “Do you believe he’s changed?”

Lucien hesitated, his jaw tightening as if weighing his words. “I believe he’s trying. For her, for their-... And that’s more than I ever thought possible.”

Feyre studied him, her expression softening. “You’ve seen it firsthand, haven’t you?”

Lucien nodded, a faint, almost reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “He’s still Eris—sharp edges and all. But when he’s with her…” His gaze flicked to the garden again, where the rain still fell heavily. “It’s like those edges dull, just a little. He loves her. Fiercely. And I think that scares him as much as it comforts him.”

Cassian snorted, shaking his head. “Fierce or not, he’s still the same arrogant bastard who—”

“Cassian,” Rhys warned, his tone light but carrying enough weight to make the Illyrian warrior pause.

Lucien’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a dangerous gleam in his russet eye as he turned toward Cassian. “He is arrogant,” he agreed smoothly. “And he’s made mistakes. But don’t let your biases blind you to what’s in front of you.”

Mor looked ready to interject, but Rhys raised a hand, silencing her. “That’s enough,” he said, his gaze lingering on Lucien. “We’re not here to pass judgment—yet.”

Lucien inclined his head, though the tension in his frame didn’t ease. “Just remember, Rhysand. Whatever you think of Eris, she chose him. And she seems happy.”

With that, Lucien stepped back, his gaze once again drawn to the stormy garden. His expression softened, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face before he turned and walked back into the ballroom, leaving the inner circle to ponder his words in silence.

The rain continued to fall in heavy sheets as Eris led you deeper into the garden, his steps purposeful despite the mud slicking the stone paths. The storm seemed to heighten everything—the cool, wet air against your skin, the pounding of your heart, the way his golden eyes burned with something primal and unrestrained.

Before you could fully process his intent, he stopped abruptly, turning to face you. Without a word, his hands slid to your waist, and in one swift, commanding movement, he pressed you back against the soft grass beneath the open sky.

“Eris,” you murmured, your voice breathless as your hands instinctively reached up to grip the lapels of his soaked coat.

He leaned down, his body caging yours, every line of him sharp and unyielding against the storm’s chaos. “Shh, little fox,” he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver through you. “You’re mine tonight. All of you.”

His lips descended on yours, fierce and demanding, yet somehow achingly tender. The rain pelted down around you, but you barely felt it, too consumed by the heat of his kiss. His hands roamed your sides, his touch grounding you even as it left you utterly undone.

The kiss deepened, his tongue teasing yours with a skill that left you breathless. You arched into him, your fingers threading through his damp hair as his hand slid to the curve of your hip, pulling you impossibly closer.

When he finally broke the kiss, his lips brushed against your jaw, your neck, trailing heat in their wake. “You drive me mad,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and unguarded. “Do you know that?”

Your heart thundered in your chest, your voice a trembling whisper as you replied, “You’re one to talk.”

He laughed softly, the sound vibrating through you as he leaned back just enough to meet your gaze. The storm raged on around you, but in his eyes, there was only fire—fire that promised he’d never let you go.

“You’re mine,” he said again, the words a vow as his lips claimed yours once more, his body sheltering you from the storm even as his kiss consumed you completely.

Eris pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your rain-cooled skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His golden eyes roamed over your face, his expression caught somewhere between reverence and possessiveness, as though he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

You opened your mouth to say something, to tease him or demand another kiss, but he beat you to it. “I should take you back inside,” he murmured, though his hands stayed firm on your hips, pinning you to the soft, rain-drenched earth. “But I can’t seem to let you go.”

You let out a shaky laugh, brushing a soaked strand of his hair away from his face. “Maybe I don’t want you to.”

His grin was slow and wicked, the kind that always made your pulse race. “Is that so?” he asked, lowering his lips to the hollow of your throat, pressing a kiss there that made you shiver despite the heat pooling in your stomach.

The rain continued to fall, soaking through both your clothes and the soft earth beneath you, but neither of you cared. Eris shifted slightly, his body a solid, grounding weight against yours, his hands sliding from your waist to your thighs, his thumbs tracing lazy circles through the fabric of your dress.

“You’re everything to me, little fox,” he said softly, his voice raw with emotion. “Do you know that? My world begins and ends with you.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, though you weren’t sure if it was from the intensity of his words or the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered. “Eris,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you cupped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I love you. More than anything.”

His breath hitched at your words, his lips parting as if to respond, but instead, he kissed you again, pouring every ounce of his devotion into it.

The storm raged on, but in that moment, nothing else existed—just you, Eris, and the fire that burned between you, unquenchable even by the rain.

-----

The ballroom carried on in its lively revelry, the swirling gowns and vibrant music disguising the absence of its new High Lord and his lady. Most were too engrossed in their conversations, drinks, or dances to notice that Eris and you had slipped away, though the inner circle, seated near the grand doors, had kept an eye on the evening’s events with quiet curiosity.

Feyre, lounging at the table beside Rhysand, tilted her head toward the doorway, her brows furrowing. “Do you see that?” she murmured, her voice low but sharp enough to catch her companions’ attention.

Cassian, who had been nursing his drink, looked up and followed her gaze. Near the doorway, a small figure stood hesitantly, his auburn hair glinting in the flickering light of the chandeliers. His clothes were finely made but slightly rumpled, as if he’d been running or hiding.

“That’s a child,” Mor said, her tone incredulous. “What in the Mother’s name is a child doing here? This isn’t exactly a family gathering.”

Azriel’s shadows curled tighter around him as he observed the boy. “He’s too young to be here alone,” he said quietly. “Someone should—”

Before he could finish, Feyre gestured toward Lucien, who was standing nearby. “Lucien,” she called, her voice cutting across the noise. “Come here for a moment.”

Lucien approached, his gaze sharp as he followed their pointed looks toward the boy. The moment he saw him, his body stiffened, his eyes widening in recognition. “Azer?” he muttered under his breath before suddenly striding forward.

The inner circle exchanged puzzled glances as they watched Lucien kneel in front of the boy, his expression softening as he gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Azer,” Lucien said, his tone both firm and kind. “What are you doing here, little one? Where’s your sitter?”

The boy’s wide, teary eyes looked up at him, his lower lip trembling. “There was… a fire in my room,” Azer hiccupped, his voice high and distressed. “She told me to step away.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened. “A fire?”

Azer nodded, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I—I made a spark, Uncle Lucien,” he confessed, his tiny voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know I could do that.”

The revelation hit Lucien hard, but he quickly scooped the boy into his arms, holding him close as Azer began to sob in earnest. “Shh, little fox,” he murmured, trying to calm him. “It’s okay. You’re not in trouble.”

“Where’s Mama? Dada?” Azer cried, his small hands clutching at Lucien’s tunic.

Lucien’s heart clenched at the desperate plea, but his focus remained on soothing the boy. He turned back toward the inner circle, carrying Azer with a protective arm around him.

As he approached, the group’s expressions ranged from confusion to shock. Feyre, in particular, seemed stunned. “That’s—” she started, her gaze darting between Azer and Lucien. “Is he…?”

Lucien didn’t meet her eyes. “Yes,” he said shortly. “This is Azer. Eris and Y/N’s son.”

The table fell silent, the revelation striking like a thunderclap.

Cassian was the first to break the silence. “Wait, Eris has a kid? And no one told us?”

Mor blinked, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to find words. “How… when…?”

Before anyone could press further, Alev appeared, his expression one of mild alarm as he approached the group. “What’s going on?” he asked, his gaze flicking to Azer.

Lucien, his tone sharp, said, “Azer lit a spark in his room. It’s his first time using his powers.”

Alev’s face paled, his hand instinctively running through his hair. “Oh, cauldron,” he muttered. “This might be my fault. I told him a story earlier—about how I accidentally set your curtains on fire. He must’ve…”

Lucien’s glare was deadly. “You what?”

Azer hiccupped, his small body trembling in Lucien’s arms. “I didn’t mean to,” he sobbed, his face buried in Lucien’s shoulder. “I just wanted to see if I could make a spark like Uncle Alev.”

Alev looked stricken, his guilt plain as he reached out to touch Azer’s back. “Little fox, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to try that.”

The inner circle exchanged stunned glances, their earlier judgments of Eris and you now tempered by the sight of the distraught child.

Rhysand, always the calmest, leaned back in his chair and said quietly, “Well, this certainly explains a few things.”

“It explains everything,” Feyre added softly, her gaze lingering on Azer, who clung to Lucien as though his life depended on it.

Cassian let out a low whistle, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. “So, not only does Eris have a kid, but he’s been hiding him? Makes you wonder what else he’s keeping secret.”

“More like why he hid him,” Mor added, her voice laced with sharpness. “If he was so proud of his son, why wouldn’t he—”

“Enough,” Lucien snapped, his voice cutting through their remarks like a blade.

The group stilled, turning to face him. Lucien’s expression was uncharacteristically hard, his russet eye blazing with anger while his mechanical one whirred faintly as it focused on each of them. Azer, still clinging to him, hiccupped softly, his tiny hands fisting in Lucien’s tunic.

“You can say what you want about me,” Lucien began, his voice low and fierce. “And you can say what you want about Eris. But you will not speak of Azer like he’s some kind of scandal to be dissected.”

“Lucien—” Feyre started, but he cut her off with a glare.

“No,” he said firmly. “You don’t understand. Azer wasn’t hidden because Eris wasn’t proud of him. He was hidden because he was born during Beron’s rule.”

The air in the room seemed to grow heavier at the mention of Beron, the former High Lord of Autumn whose cruelty was well-known.

“If Beron had known Azer existed,” Lucien continued, his voice shaking with restrained fury, “he wouldn’t have lived to see his first birthday. Eris and Y/N kept him hidden to protect him, not because they were ashamed.”

Mor’s expression softened slightly, but her tone remained skeptical. “I’m not saying they didn’t have reasons, Lucien. But keeping a child secret for years—”

“You don’t get to judge them,” Lucien bit out, his tone sharp. “You have no idea what it was like in this court. What it took to survive, let alone to keep a child safe.” He adjusted Azer in his arms, his hold protective. “Azer is not to be a topic on your tongues. Not now, not ever.”

Azriel, who had been silent until now, leaned forward slightly, his shadows curling tighter around him. “We weren’t trying to judge the child,” he said carefully. “But it’s… surprising. That’s all.”

Lucien’s gaze narrowed, but he nodded curtly. “Surprising or not, Azer is off-limits. I don’t care what you think of me or Eris, but you will leave him out of it. He’s innocent in all of this.”

The inner circle exchanged glances, a mixture of unease and understanding passing between them. Rhysand finally spoke, his tone measured. “Fair enough, Lucien. We’ll respect your wishes.”

Lucien’s shoulders relaxed marginally, but the fire in his gaze didn’t fade. “Good. Because Azer isn’t just Eris’s son. He’s my nephew. And I won’t let anyone treat him like he’s some kind of stain on our family.”

Azer whimpered softly, his little voice breaking through the tense silence. “I want Mama and Dada.”

Lucien’s expression softened immediately, and he pressed a kiss to the boy’s rain-damp hair. “I know, little fox,” he murmured. “We’ll find them soon.”

For the first time, the inner circle seemed to see Azer not as a symbol of Eris’s secrets but as a scared, vulnerable child. And in that moment, no one dared say another word.

Alev came rushing back into the ballroom, his normally composed expression frazzled as his eyes scanned the crowd. His coat was slightly askew, his hair damp from the rain outside.

“I’ve looked everywhere,” he said breathlessly, his voice tight with frustration as he approached Lucien and the inner circle. “I can’t find Eris or Y/N anywhere.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened as he shifted Azer, still rocking the boy gently in his arms. Azer clung to him, his tiny fingers fisting in Lucien’s tunic, his sobs quieter now but no less heart-wrenching.

“Keep your voice down,” Lucien hissed, glancing around to ensure no one else overheard.

“They’re probably somewhere in the gardens,” Alev muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s pouring out there, and they’re not answering any of the usual signals.”

Before Lucien could respond, a soft but firm voice interrupted. “Azer? What are you doing down here?”

Everyone turned to see Lady Arlene, her elegant figure framed by the light from the grand chandeliers. She moved with a regal grace, her auburn hair swept up, her amber eyes sharp but filled with concern. Helion followed closely behind her, his expression curious as his golden gaze flicked to Azer.

“Mother,” Lucien said, his voice heavy with relief.

Arlene’s eyes widened when they fell on her grandson, who was still trembling in Lucien’s arms. Her expression softened instantly as she stepped closer, her skirts brushing the floor. “What happened?” she asked, her voice gentle as she reached out to stroke Azer’s hair.

Lucien sighed, his grip on Azer tightening protectively. “There was a fire in his room,” he explained, keeping his voice low. “He… lit a spark. For the first time.”

Arlene froze, her hand stilling against Azer’s curls. “A fire?” she repeated, her tone laced with both shock and understanding. “Oh, my little firefox.”

Azer sniffled, lifting his tear-streaked face to look at her. “I didn’t mean to, Grandmama,” he whimpered. “I just wanted to try like Uncle Alev said.”

Alev visibly winced, muttering, “I really shouldn’t have told him that story.”

Arlene shot him a pointed look but said nothing, focusing instead on her grandson. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice soothing. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Powers like yours can be tricky at first.”

Helion stepped forward then, his golden armour glinting in the light. His expression was equal parts curiosity and pride as he looked at Azer. “First sparks, hmm?” he said, his voice warm and deep. “A sign of strength, little one. Nothing to fear.”

Azer sniffled again, his big, teary eyes meeting Helion’s. “But I scared my babysitter. And I couldn’t find Mama and Dada.”

Lucien tightened his hold, rocking Azer gently. “They’ll be back soon,” he promised. “You’re safe now.”

Arlene exchanged a glance with Helion, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I’ll go find them,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Helion nodded, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “I’ll come with you.”

As they turned to leave, Arlene glanced back at Azer, her expression softening once more. “Stay with your uncle, little fox. I’ll bring your parents back to you.”

Azer nodded weakly, his head resting against Lucien’s shoulder. The boy was exhausted, his earlier sobs having worn him out, but the occasional hiccup still shook his small frame.

The inner circle watched the exchange in silence, a mix of emotions flickering across their faces. Feyre’s gaze lingered on Azer, her expression unreadable, while Cassian and Mor exchanged wary looks. Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his eyes sharp as they followed Arlene and Helion’s retreating forms.

Lucien finally broke the silence, his voice low and firm. “Say what you want about Eris and me, but Azer isn’t up for discussion, I said it more than once but I'll say it again. Not tonight, not ever. He’s a child—a good child—and he deserves better than to be the subject of your scrutiny.”

Feyre nodded slowly, her tone soft as she said, “You’re right. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Lucien’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though the fire in his gaze didn’t dim. He glanced down at Azer, his voice softening as he murmured, “You’re safe, little fox. Your parents will be here soon.”

As the room settled into a tense quiet, Azer stirred in Lucien’s arms, his hiccups subsiding into soft breaths. He sniffled, his small hands clutching at Lucien’s tunic as he lifted his tear-streaked face. His wide, amber eyes—so much like his father’s—scanned the room, landing on Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand.

Azer blinked, his curiosity breaking through the haze of his earlier tears. “Why do they have wings?” he asked, his voice small but clear as he pointed a tiny finger toward the three Illyrians.

The question caught everyone off guard, and for a moment, the tension in the room softened. Cassian exchanged a glance with Azriel, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“We were born with them,” Cassian said, leaning back in his chair and giving his wings an exaggerated stretch. “They’re part of being Illyrian.”

Azer tilted his head, his small brows furrowing in confusion. “What’s an Illyrian?”

“They’re warriors,” Lucien explained gently, his tone patient. “They come from a different part of the Night Court.”

Azer’s eyes grew even wider as he looked back at the three males. “Warriors? Like Dada?”

Azriel’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile, though his shadows curled tighter around him. “Something like that,” he said quietly.

Cassian chuckled, his grin widening. “I bet we could teach you a thing or two about being a warrior, little one.”

Lucien shot him a sharp look. “He’s three, Cassian. Let’s not give him ideas.”

Azer ignored the exchange, his attention fixated on Rhysand now. “Can I have wings too?”

Rhysand, who had been watching the interaction with quiet amusement, leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “I don’t think wings are something you can grow, little one,” he said, his tone light. “But you don’t need them to be strong. You’ve got fire in your veins, just like your father.”

Azer’s face scrunched up as he considered this, then turned back to Lucien. “But wings would be fun,” he insisted, his small voice earnest.

Lucien sighed, a soft chuckle escaping him despite himself. “You’ll have to make do without them, little fox.”

The inner circle exchanged subtle glances, their earlier wariness giving way to quiet intrigue as they observed the boy’s innocent curiosity. For a moment, the weight of secrets and past grievances seemed to lift, replaced by the simple wonder of a child discovering the world around him.

Azer’s gaze lingered on the Illyrians for a moment longer before he nestled back into Lucien’s shoulder, his tiny voice murmuring, “Maybe one day…”

Lucien smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Maybe one day,” he agreed, his voice filled with quiet affection.

The tension in the room only deepened when Lady Arlene, Helion, and Alev returned, their faces marked with worry. Alev’s hair was even more dishevelled than before, and both Arlene and Helion looked like they had braved the worsening storm outside.

“No sign of them,” Arlene announced, her voice tight as she approached Lucien and Azer. “The gardens are sprawling, and the rain is turning into a storm. They could be anywhere.”

Helion placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, though his own concern was evident. “They’re clever. They’ll be fine. But we should keep searching.”

Azer, still in Lucien’s arms, babbled softly to himself, seemingly unaware of the adults’ growing unease. His little voice carried a mix of words and toddler gibberish, his fingers playing with the collar of Lucien’s tunic. His eyes, though still red-rimmed from crying, were wide with curiosity as he noticed the way Azriel’s shadows danced around him.

“’Shadows,” Azer murmured, his small hand stretching out toward the wisps of darkness that curled and swirled around Azriel like living things. “Wanna play.”

Azriel glanced down at the boy, his expression unreadable. His shadows seemed to hesitate for a moment before one daring tendril crept closer, teasingly twirling around Azer’s outstretched fingers.

Azer giggled softly, the sound tinged with sniffles as he tried to grab at the shadow. “Gotcha!” he exclaimed, his toddler speech slightly garbled. “No… no run!”

Azriel allowed a rare, faint smile to tug at the corner of his lips as his shadow darted away, only to circle back and flick at Azer’s tiny fingers.

Lucien sighed, adjusting Azer in his arms as he watched the interaction. “Don’t encourage him, Azriel,” he muttered, though his tone lacked any real bite.

“I’m not doing anything,” Azriel replied smoothly, though there was a flicker of amusement in his voice.

Azer giggled again, distracted from the earlier upset as he babbled nonsense words to the shadow, his sniffles gradually fading. The storm outside intensified, the sound of rain pounding against the grand windows of the ballroom filling the room.

Arlene stepped closer, her hand brushing over Azer’s curls. “We need to find them,” she said softly, her worry now etched plainly on her face.

Helion nodded, his gaze moving toward the doors. “They can’t have gone far, even with the storm. We’ll keep searching.”

Alev, standing nearby, hesitated before adding, “I’ll check the garden pathways again. Maybe they found cover somewhere.”

As the adults strategized, Azer turned his attention back to Azriel’s shadows, a tiny smile breaking through his lingering tears. His little hand swiped through the air again as he mumbled, “Come back, shadow. No hide!”

The sight of the toddler’s innocent determination seemed to soften even the tension between the inner circle and the Vanserras, at least for a moment. But the storm outside raged on, a reminder that the ones they were all looking for were still nowhere to be found.

-----

The storm had turned the garden into a shimmering maze, the rain coming down in heavy sheets that drenched everything in its path. You ran through it, your laughter ringing out despite the chaos, your hand clasped tightly in Eris’s. The muddy ground squelched beneath your feet, and your gown, once pristine, clung to your body, the fabric soaked through.

Eris, his hair plastered to his forehead, glanced back at you, his golden eyes alight with amusement even as the rain poured down around you both. “You’re going to ruin that dress,” he teased, though his own immaculate attire wasn’t faring much better.

“Better the dress than my ankles!” you shot back, already fumbling to pull off your soaked shoes. The delicate heels were no match for the slippery garden paths, and you nearly tripped as you tugged them free.

Eris caught you before you could fall, his strong hands steadying you as he grinned. “Careful, love. I’d hate for you to twist an ankle before our grand re-entrance.”

You laughed breathlessly, finally kicking the shoes off and tossing them onto the wet grass. “I think it’s a little late for grand, don’t you?”

Eris raised a brow, clearly unbothered by the state of your dishevelled appearance. “You forget who you’re with.” His voice was low, teasing, and entirely too self-assured as he pulled you closer. “I can make anything grand.”

Rolling your eyes, you tugged him forward, your bare feet splashing through puddles as you both ran toward the faint glow of the ballroom ahead. The rain was relentless, but it only added to the thrill of the moment, each step a mix of wild abandon and shared laughter.

As you reached the edge of the gardens, the sound of music from the ballroom grew louder, mingling with the rhythm of the rain. You paused for a moment under the partial cover of a sprawling oak tree, catching your breath as Eris leaned down, his hands braced on his knees.

“You know,” you panted, brushing wet strands of hair from your face, “we probably look ridiculous.”

Eris straightened, his golden eyes gleaming despite the storm. “We look like royalty,” he said smugly, though the grin tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. “Just… slightly soggier than usual.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed his hand again. “Come on, Your Highness. Let’s get back inside before they send a search party.”

As you reached the edge of the gardens, the rain pelting down harder than ever, Eris tugged you back beneath the shelter of a sprawling oak tree. His golden eyes glimmered with mischief as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“Do we really have to go back inside?” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, barely audible over the storm. “The ballroom’s full of people I’d rather avoid… and you’re far more interesting.”

Before you could respond, his lips found yours, warm and insistent despite the chill of the rain soaking through both your clothes. His hand slid up your back, fingers tangling in your damp hair as he kissed you with a fervour that made you momentarily forget the storm raging around you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven. “Why don’t we just stay out here?” he suggested, his tone teasing but his intent unmistakable. “The rain, the grass… It’s far better than listening to advisors drone on or exchanging pleasantries with people who don’t matter.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though your teeth chattered from the cold. “Eris, it’s freezing, and we’re both covered in muck. Look at us!”

He glanced down, his shirt clinging to his chest and the once-immaculate fabric smeared with dirt. His boots were caked with mud, and your gown was a waterlogged mess. He grinned, utterly unbothered. “We’ve looked worse. And I still think you’re stunning.”

You swatted at his chest, though it lacked any real force. “As flattering as that is, I’m not about to let my teeth chatter out of my skull just to indulge you.”

Eris sighed dramatically, though his grin remained. “You ruin all my fun, you know that?”

You arched a brow, stepping back and tugging him toward the glowing lights of the ballroom. “Come on, High Lord. Let’s go before the muck starts seeping into places it shouldn’t.”

Eris followed reluctantly, though his hand remained firmly clasped in yours. “Fine,” he said, his tone half playful, half resigned. “But don’t think for a second that I’m done with you tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, your heart still pounding from the intensity of his kiss. “You’re insatiable,” you muttered, though the warmth in your chest betrayed how much you loved it.

“And you’re freezing,” he shot back with a smirk. “Let’s get you inside before you catch cold.”

The grand ballroom was alive with music and chatter as you and Eris entered, soaked from the rain and slightly dishevelled. The golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the room, a stark contrast to the storm still raging outside. Water dripped from the hem of your dress, forming a small trail as you both walked further in. You reached up to smooth your hair, hoping to appear somewhat presentable, but Eris was already scanning the room, his sharp eyes cutting through the crowd.

It was then that his entire demeanour shifted. His gaze landed on Lucien, seated at a table near the far side of the ballroom, cradling a familiar bundle in his arms. Eris froze for a fraction of a second, his shoulders tensing before he took off in a sprint, leaving you to trail behind him, startled.

The inner circle, seated with Lucien and Azer, noticed Eris immediately. Cassian leaned back in his chair, exchanging a look with Rhysand and Feyre. They’d spent the past hour piecing together the puzzle of the little boy, thanks to Lucien’s quiet but firm explanation, but now they were about to witness the truth first-hand.

Eris reached Lucien in moments, his golden eyes darting over Azer’s tear-streaked face. Azer was clutching Lucien’s tunic with trembling fingers, his breaths coming in quick hiccups as his wide amber eyes filled with tears.

“Dada!” Azer cried out, reaching for Eris with both arms. His voice cracked with the effort, his small body shaking as his emotions overwhelmed him.

Eris immediately knelt, his hands steady as he took Azer from Lucien’s arms. “Shh, little firefox,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing despite the storm of worry in his gaze. “I’m here. Dada’s here.”

Azer buried his face in Eris’s soaked chest, sobbing uncontrollably. His little fists clutched at Eris’s tunic, his cries muffled but heart-wrenching. The room seemed to shrink as the High Lord of Autumn cradled his son, his usual composed mask cracking just enough for those closest to see.

Lucien stood, his expression grim as he addressed Eris. “There was a fire,” he explained quietly, his voice laced with both worry and frustration. “The babysitter told him to step away, but… Azer lit the spark. His powers manifested for the first time.”

Eris’s jaw tightened, his pride momentarily overshadowed by the need to comfort his son. “He’s alright?” he asked, his voice steady but low.

“He’s fine,” Lucien assured him. “Just shaken. And terrified.”

Eris closed his eyes for a moment, pressing a kiss to Azer’s curls. “It’s okay, little one,” he whispered. “You’re safe now. You’re so brave.”

Azer tried to speak, but his words came out in broken sobs. “D-Dada… fire… I—”

“Shh,” Eris soothed, rubbing small circles on Azer’s back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re just like me, aren’t you? Full of fire.”

The pride in his voice was subtle, carefully masked by his fatherly concern, but those who knew him well could hear it. Cassian and Azriel, who had been quietly observing, exchanged a glance before stepping forward.

“You’ll soak him through,” Azriel said, his voice calm as he shrugged off his jacket. Cassian did the same, handing theirs to Eris.

“Wrap him in these,” Cassian added, his tone unusually soft.

Eris hesitated for a moment, his pride warring with practicality, before taking the jackets and wrapping them around Azer’s trembling form. The little boy clung to him, his cries quieting to soft hiccups as the warmth of the jackets and his father’s presence surrounded him.

The inner circle continued to watch, their expressions ranging from surprise to quiet understanding. This was not the cold, calculating High Lord they had expected. This was a father—protective, proud, and deeply devoted to his son.

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful as he observed Eris murmuring soft reassurances to Azer. “I never thought I’d see the day,” he said quietly, his voice just loud enough for Feyre to hear.

Feyre glanced at him, her lips curving into a faint smile. “There’s more to him than we realized,” she said.

“Clearly,” Rhysand replied, watching as Eris stood, cradling Azer close as if shielding him from the world.

The moment you spotted Eris standing with Azer wrapped in the jackets, your heart clenched. You ran toward them, your bare feet still damp from the rain, your gown dragging slightly behind you. The sight of your little boy nestled against his father, his tear-streaked face peeking out from the folds of fabric, was enough to quicken your pace.

As you reached them, you instinctively placed a hand on Eris’s arm, your gaze immediately falling to Azer. “What happened? Is he okay?” you asked breathlessly, brushing damp curls from your son’s forehead.

“He’s fine,” Eris assured you softly, his golden eyes meeting yours. “Just a little shaken. He—”

Lucien cleared his throat, stepping forward. “I’ll explain later,” he said, his voice low but steady. “He’s alright now, though.”

It was then you noticed the table behind them, where a group of unfamiliar faces watched the interaction with curious and calculating eyes. You quickly straightened, smoothing your sodden dress as best you could.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” you said, addressing the group with a polite smile despite your racing heart. “I’m Y/N, Eris’s wife. Thank you for… for helping with Azer. It means more than you know.”

The High Lady of Night Court—Feyre, you recognized her from Eris’s descriptions—was the first to speak. She stood, her expression warm and welcoming. “It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N,” she said. “You have a beautiful family.”

You smiled, a touch nervously, as the others introduced themselves: Rhysand, Azriel, Cassian, and Mor. Their gazes flicked between you, Eris, and Azer, a mix of curiosity and guarded interest in their eyes.

Azer squirmed slightly in Eris’s arms, his small hand reaching out for you. “Mama,” he mumbled, his voice still thick from crying.

You took him gently, cradling him close as he rested his head on your shoulder. His little body relaxed almost immediately in your embrace, though his pout remained firmly in place.

“This is a boring ball,” he mumbled, his tone disgruntled.

The room went silent for a beat before laughter rippled through the group. Even Eris let out a low chuckle, his hand resting on your back as you shook your head, biting back a smile.

“Well,” you said, kissing the top of Azer’s head, “he’s not wrong.”

Cassian grinned, leaning back in his chair. “I like this kid,” he said, earning a glare from Eris that only made him smirk wider.

Azer peeked up from your shoulder, his amber eyes still wet but curious as they scanned the group. He gave a little sniffle, then buried his face back against you with a contented sigh.

“Thank you,” you said again, your voice softer now as you looked at the group. “For everything.”

Feyre smiled warmly. “He’s lucky to have you both.”

You nodded, your heart swelling as you looked down at Azer. Despite the chaos of the night, everything felt a little more steady now with him in your arms.

#eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris x you #eris x y/n #autumn court #eris fanfic #eris imagine #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fic #acotar x reader #acotar #acotar x you #a court of thorns and roses #eris vandaddy #eris fic #acotar fics

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solbaby7 · 3 months ago

Text

High For This

pairing: eris x reader

warnings: jealous!eris, swearing, another overindulgent ball hosted simply for conspiratorial purposes, sexual themes, wrote this with the implication of Beron being dead, abrupt ending bc if i didn’t stop there i prolly wouldn’t stop at all, not edited

summary: Eris is a jealous man and you’re determined to see exactly how hot his fire burns for you.

—

“Excuse me?”

Your eyes roll on their own accord, hands fluffing through fresh curls as dark mascara dries on thick lashes. A tinted gloss stains full lips and Eris hates the way his lungs greedily gulp in the sensual oud permeating the air.

Everything in here smells like you and he doesn’t resist the indulgence of looking around to take in the fluffy duvet sheets neatly strewn over the mattress and the cream throw pillows tucked near your headboard. The canopy drapes are tucked to each post, the middle dripping dreamily like clouds hovering in the sky.

You’re meticulous, he notes; every item you own continent in their convenient little homes. “I said,” The tone you hold makes his jaw clench, his body visibly perturbed by your nonchalance while he felt himself slipping deeper into your pull. You barely spare him a proper glance—too occupied in looking over yourself in the floor length mirror. “I have a date so you don’t have to wait for me. We’ll meet you there.”

“A date?” Eris repeats sharply, staring at you through the mirror.

“Is there a problem with that?” You know the answer before the question is even fully spoken, a smug little smirk ghosting in the corner of your lips as you sift through your jewelry box. Rings are slid onto your fingers, gold bands and pretty emerald cut jewels glittering in the faelight. “I specifically remember you saying that you didn’t need a plus one.”

“Because,” Each syllable is drawn out, his restraint slipping as you pushed his buttons with such expertise. “—I already had one.” You read between the lines, a brow raising as you settle in the knowledge that the High Lord had expected you to hang off his arm.

“I don’t recall you asking.”

“It was implied.”

Dark kohl lines your eyes and accentuates full lashes, a pretty blush placed on the high points of your cheeks and such beauty seems lethal when you stare through the mirror. “You’ve never had an issue articulating your wants before—if you desired it bad enough, of course.”

You leave room for a response, trying desperately to mask the flicker of hope beginning to drudge to life within the embers. Centuries of waiting for Beron to no longer be an issue, no longer looming over both of your shoulders and destroying every meaningful moment.

Things were supposed to be different when he was finally dead.

Easier.

Only, Eris had grown more guarded. Terrified that showing a hint of affection would backfire as it had so many times before. He takes his time, smoothening out his tone and compulsively straightening out the neatly folded handkerchief sticking elegantly from the breast pocket of his perfectly tailored suit. “This is not up for debate, bunny. Turn your little friend away and let’s go before we’re late.”

“No.” You shove past him, clutch tucked under your arm and high heels clicking furiously against the hardwood.

It stuns him for a beat of time but he recovers far quicker and Eris all but barks out your name as he exits your door, following a few paces behind with a snarl working its way up his throat. “Get back here!”

“I am not some object that you can just command when you please.” Elegant curls bounce angrily with your every step, jewelry chiming with each little bounce down the stairs. One hand grips at the banister for balance, the tight fit of your dress forcing you to move slower than you’d like. “You do not own me.”

"You're right, bunny. I don't own you but I am your High Lord and you will stop walking this instant."

The immediate fae-like stillness of your form has Eris’ heart thumping with excitement against his ribcage. A perfect mask is painted across your features when you slowly turn on the balls of your feet to face him but nothing could ever quench the fire that burns behind your retinas. “My Lord?”

A noise is hummed low in his throat—pleased or patronizing?—you weren’t sure but judging by that leisurely stride and the special time he takes in looking you over, it has to be a mix of both. “I like that tone much better.” Eris’ hands are warm when he brushes a lock of hair away from your face, fingertips grazing against your neck with such care that you have to suppress the shiver threatening to rake up your spine.

You refused to allow him the satisfaction of knowing how his touch affected you.

Not when he was acting like such an entitled toddler.

“Wonderful,” Venom burns under every word, even if it is wrapped in a sickeningly sweet tone. “I aim to please.”

A smile bleeds its way onto his face, the faelight casting shadows over the handsome contours of his features and frustration forces your fingers to fidget when the intoxicating oud of his cologne engulfs your senses. “I’m thrilled to hear that, bunny.” Eyes narrow up at Eris as you clock that tone of voice—that devilish look burning behind amber irises. “Let’s hope all that enthusiasm helps you survive the night.”

“Funny you should say that,” The way your hand elegantly rests in the crease of his extended arm feels utterly natural, no matter how much contempt is quivering behind the movement. “It’s not me who needs to worry about surviving the night.”

—

Playing the part of the demure, doting date is a million times more difficult than you make it look. Sweet smiles and the inviting shape of your figure brings in more attention than normal—or maybe it was because of who’d been permanently fused to your side since the second you’d arrived.

Eris had never been so on guard, amber irises raking over anyone who came within a five foot radius and most of your time is spent wading the rigid line of his shoulders. “Quit it,” You snap through your teeth, concealing the bite if your words with a bright grin. “You forced me to be here with you and now you’re scaring everyone off.”

“Forced you?” He doesn’t even sound offended—just smug as he motions to your hand curled comfortably around his bicep. “Is that the narrative you’re running with tonight, bunny? How unoriginal.” The body language portrays anything but ‘forced’ and once he’s pointed it out, you’re quick to pull away, snatching your hand back and grumbling profanities under your breath.

“What else would you call it?”

Eris feigns aloofness when responding, refusing to grant you the decency of his gaze and your spine goes ramrod straight when his words sink in. “I’d say it’s no different than when any of the other High Lords attend with their plus ones—though it seems theirs are more well behaved.”

“I’m not some hound who submits to your every command, Eris Vanserra.” Hurt lingers in the words you spit out just loud enough for him to hear. “What the other High Lords have are wives, partners—mates. They’re not cowards; wanting someone and stringing them along.” Tears well in your waterline, grip shaky around the flute of champagne until you abandon it altogether. “You’re wasting my time and I have little patience left to offer.”

You’re forced to walk away before the dam breaks, refusing to wear your heart on your sleeve for it never worked well before. Makes you too vulnerable; too tethered to a male too afraid to return the sentiment.

Balcony doors creak under your touch, opening just enough for you to slip through and close it behind you. For once, you’re grateful for the solitude. Basking in the cool breeze and the comforting smell of fresh flora, you let your eyes slip closed, a single tear falling free and your back bows as you sag against iron railings.

Just a single moment of weakness.

And it’s completely shattered by another presence.

“Want me to kill ‘em?”

You snap up like a spring, neck nearly snapping with the force it takes to turn so quickly. Palms wipe at your cheeks, straightening out the fabrics of your dress. “Sorry,” You quickly flush the moment realization sinks in, eyes taking in the towering Illyrian standing just a few feet away. His hair held in a neat bun at the nape of his neck, burly form slouched in a lounge chair, wings stretched high behind him. “I thought I was alone out here.”

“Looking how you do, I doubt you’re ever really alone.”

You scoff, this hateful, bark of a noise that refuses to be tampered down or subdued. “Not everyone shares your sentiment.”

“Date ditch you?”

“A girl could only dream. No, my ‘date’ is spending his time being a grade A douchebag—needed fresh air before I did something stupid.”

He hums in acknowledgment, a chilled glass of amber liquor dripping condensation down the thick stretch of his forearm. His head cocks to the side when he looks you up and down, making note of that forlorn expression casting shadows across pretty features. “Want to make him jealous?”

You should be ashamed for how abruptly the notion piques your interest. For how quickly satisfaction settles within your bloodstream at the thought of Eris watching you waltz around with this brick wall of a male and his effortless presence. “What’s in it for you?”

“Pretty thing on my arm is prize enough, even if it is just for show.”

There’s a pause where the Illyrian can literally see the gears turning in your head. Outweighing the risks. Mulling over potential consequences.

He can tangibly grasp the exact moment you shove all that aside—too scorned to give a shit about retribution. Too much time had gone into getting ready to waste it all on a male too prideful to cherish the gift wrapped before him. You head nods with finality, one hand outstretched before him. “It’s a deal.”

His hand is warm against your own, significantly larger and riddled with callouses. Tattoos the shade of obsidian is etched into tawny skin, arms rippling with muscles that bulge against the tight fit of formal leather attire. “I’m Cassian.”

“I know who you are.” Hesitation lingers in the set of your shoulders, spine not fully lax though Cassian doubts that’s fully possible with the skyscraper for heels adorning your feet. “Do you know who I am?”

His grin only grows when he stands at full attention, so tall your neck cranes just to meet his eye. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.” Ice clinks against his glass as he offers it to you, lifting the rim to your lips and muttering a soft praise when you drink obediently. “There’s a girl. Drink up, you’ll need the liquid courage.”

Liquid courage. Makes sense when it burns on the way down, easing frazzled nerves and a short temper until your arm slips in the crease of Cass’ elbow like it was a regular occurrence.

He’s confident. Borderline cocky with the way he urges you closer, hips bumping into one another with each step. The closeness does the trick though, a smoldering set of sandy eyes fall on you the moment you’re thrusted back into the fray. “Chin up,” Cassian murmurs softly, lips barely even moving over the words.

You’re led to the dance floor, situated smack dab in the middle. It’s a spectacle but something tells you that’s the whole point when Cassian circles a hand around your waist. The other reaches for your free hand, easing your fingers against his own until you’re palm to palm. “Do you even know how to dance? I don’t recall that being apart of Illyrian curriculum.”

It’s a harmless tease—the jab earning you a laugh so organic that it shows both rows of shiny teeth and a pantydropping set of dimples in his cheeks. “Pretty and funny. You really should consider not being so charming, I have an awful habit of hoarding treasures like you.”

Your head dips, a blush growing along the apples of your cheeks that only grows when Cassian is emboldened, ushering you in closer until you run the risk of stepping all over his toes. If he cares, you can’t tell, too washed up in the feeling of being shown off—proudly at that. “I appreciate you doing this for me. Even if it doesn’t work.”

“Trust me,” Cassian drawls, his gaze far off as he focuses on something behind you. “It’s working.”

He doesn’t elaborate, though he doesn’t really have to when you pick up on a familiar step pattern. Nose catching the earthy scent of spicy cinnamon and nutmeg. Of pine trees and bonfire smoke. “Bunny,” Eris fixates on the Illyrian’s hold on you, the corded muscle in his jaw jumping with the effort it takes to restrain himself from burning Cassian’s hands to a crisp. “Mind if I cut in?”

“This dance is nearly done.”

“And you’ll be finishing it with me.” It’s sick how desire pools in your belly at the possessive tone. How pleased you feel with yourself when Eris all but pries you away from Cass and into his own arms. You barely have enough time to say thank you to the Night Courts General before the eldest Vanserra has whisked you far, far away from those giant wings and the enigmatic wearer of them. “Where’d you run off too? I was worried.”

“Worried about what? That someone else was cherishing what you neglect?” You hum to yourself at the raw guilt that screws up the handsome pout of his mouth. “What’s that saying? One males trash…”

“You aren’t trash. You know I don’t think of you as trash.”

“No, you just treat me like it.” The chattering of guests drowns out your words from prying ears. “Hiding me at the bottom of the bin like you’re ashamed of me or something.”

You’re working yourself up again. Overthinking. Self-depreciating. Resenting. Digging a hole with no means of pulling yourself out but Eris halts that train of thinking with a hand to your jaw. The grip is gentle but firm, guiding you to look him in the eye; insisting you see the seriousness that swirls in the copper tones of his iris. “You are everything to me,” His confession stops you in your tracks. Steals your breath away at you hang onto every constant and vowel like a lifeline. “I wake up everyday just so I can see your face and I lay my head down every night praying that it’s filled with dreams of you—of us. Everything I do, anything I’ve ever done is to ensure your happiness. Your safety.”

“Eris..”

“No, listen to me.” Both hands cup your cheeks, all space eaten up until each breath he exhales in the air you inhale. Two halves of a whole slowly sliding into place. The final pieces of a puzzle connecting as one to fulfill the bigger picture. “You are mine.” Thumbs brush over the curve of your cheekbones, tracing at the slope of your nose and memorizing the shine of your lips. “My woman,” Tenderness leaks from every syllable, sincerity bleeding from every pore until you’re unable to fight back the rushing currents of your tears. “My love, my mate and while I can never promise to be a perfect male, I can vow that I am thoroughly vested in all things categorized as your best interest.”

“If I’d have known dancing with another male was all it took for such a confession, I’d have done so long ago.”A breathless laugh emits, one that softens the stern line of his brow and eases the fear his father engraved in his soul.

Noses brush, lashes kissing until your lips meet his own and all of your doubt is washed away. “I love you.”

“All I’ll ever love is you.”

#acotar x reader #acotar #acotar x you #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #eris fic #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #acotar fics #cassian acotar #love a jealous man #first eris fic #autumn court #eris angst

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thehighladywrites · 1 month ago

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“G-A-N-G, BABY LET ME B-A-N-G BABY! (LET ME FUCK SUM!)”

☆ pairing: acotar men x reader

☆ summary: submission? size difference? orgasm control? click keep reading to find out what the acotar men get turned on by!

☆ warnings: nsfw, 18+, just a fat warning that this will contain smut and nsfw themes, ig you don’t like it pls scroll!💜

☆ amara’s note: ’ello mates! enjoyyyy

rhysand

⤷ corruption

in rhysand’s eyes, you are the sweetest thing to ever exist—a breathtaking angel. he plays the part of a friendly confidant, but it’s all a deception. he knows how sheltered you were and knows how flustered you get whenever he’s shirtless. there’s no way to miss the way you avoid his gaze and lower your head, cheeks blushy. he loves the way you squirm and turn shy when he whispers the most dirty, scandalous words into your ear. he loves when you come to him for advice, only for him to twist and manipulate your thoughts, steering you straight into his arms. there’s nothing more he wants than to ruin every bit of innocence you have, to make you utterly dependent on him. Not to hurt you, never that but to corrupt you completely, simply because it turns him on like nothing else.

⤷ exhibitionism

rhysand’s fucking you. and that’s something he wants the whole world to see. he wants them to see the way you get needy when you make out, the way you let out little noises when he touches your body, the way your eyes roll back when he enters you. you’re his little fucktoy and he just couldn’t be more proud when you spread your legs for him infront of anyone. is it really his fault that the meetings get so fucking boring and repetitive? and is it really that wrong of him to stuff his fingers deep in your dripping little pussy and finger you til’ you pass out just out of plain boredom? NOOOOOO

cassian

⤷ dumbification plus aftercare

Cassian fucks you until your mind is nothing but mush, ’til you’re hearing static, until you’re soft and pliant in his arms, lost in the haze he’s pulled you into. He always knows the moment it happens, when your body goes limp, when your breathing slows, when you stop hearing anything at all. Even when he shakes you a little, you barely stir.

“I know you’re out of it, baby. I got you.”

He handles you with so much care, lifting you effortlessly, bathing you with slow, steady hands. You don’t react, just let him take care of you, completely gone in his grasp.

When he wraps you in the warmest, fluffiest towel, his chest tightens at the sight of you. tear-filled eyes, lashes stuck together, looking up at him with that vacant, dopey little smile.

Only then does he relax. Because you trust him, even like this. So vunerable and sweet.

To Cassian there’s like nothing more intimate than aftercare. Like he is so fucking into it and he loves to do it that is kinda an obsession for him. It’s just in his nature to be caring for you.

⤷ praise

kinda goes hand in hand with the previous one. i actually don’t think he’d even want to degrade you. you want to be so good for him, to get praise, because there’s nothing better than cassian’s praise. i mean, you’re always so good to him, so of course he’s letting you know what a sweet and lovely girl you are anyway. and of course he’ll tell you how immensely proud of you he is when you take aaaaaall of his inches, never complaining once. You’ll hear a good girl here, and a that’s my girl there. And Gods if that doesn’t make your entire day.

⤷ size kink

guys this is such an obivous one. literally no matter your size, huncho over here will be bigger. he enjoys it too, like he’s obsessed with how much bigger he is than you. this is one of those times ‘just the tip’ really is enough. but he’s careful, like super duper careful bc he knows he can hurt you if he’s careless. also, his hands are huge like fucking massive. sometimes he uses his fingers and they reach deeeeeep and they fill you out deliciously. other times he folds you in half and presses you into the meanest mating press ever! your body’s folded in half as he jackhammers into you like a beast. this position just gives him the most perfect view of your difference. also he’s the type who will say he’ll make it fit if you complain or worry

azriel

⤷ oral

EATER EATER EATER

god i just know he gives the BEEEEST head. a pussy-eating champion really. he loves the feeling of your warm thighs smushing him as he laps at your clit whilst pumping his fingers along your gummy walls. he mostly does this for himself, okay? like it’s not even his fault that he gets off on your sounds or the way your fingers find their way into his hair or the way you drag your manicured nails over his sensitive scalp. he might have a sliiiiightly selfish side but still.

⤷ overstimulation

azriel holds a vibrator to your clit until you can’t even cry anymore. like it’s just all too much! you’re skin stickin to the sheets, your heart’s beatin too fast and you feel oh soooo good. maybe a bit too good. but azriel likes the way you come over and over again, a painful pleasure you’re not really saying no to. and obviously he isn’t a monster, you do have a safeword, but it’s one you’re so not gonna be using anytime soon tho…

⤷ risky sex

i think azriel is super into risky sex. wanna know why? because are you telling me he wouldn’t love the thrill of being caught? like he knows he’ll never be caught, duh, he’s the spymaster but still. like you’re so worried when he’s fucking you in the hallway, i mean, anyone can just walk by and see you practically bent over some decorative table. God forbid anyone catches you like this but he just doesn’t worry. He likes the thrill because he knows he’ll wait until the last possibly second before winnowing away. Like if he hears footsteps, he’ll wait until he can practically see the other person before disappearing. talk about adrenaline kick.

Eris

⤷ Casual Dominance

This man is so casually dominant it doesn’t even register at first, you’re just too into him. Eris is 100% in charge of you and your life, but not in a creepy way. He picks out your outfits, styles your hair, makes sure you eat, and just generally keeps an eye on you. If you’re about to do something dumb (or just not great for you), he doesn’t argue—he just smoothly steers you in the right direction, like if you’re procrastinating homework, he’ll make sure you’re done by the end of the day. also he guides you through the streets, you don’t even have to use your brain with him. he just fixes everything and he leads your every move.

⤷ brat taming

Since we’re on the subject, let’s get into the fun part—because let’s be real, Eris loves order and he sure likes to set you straight. Like he’d ever pass up a chance to put you in your place. For example👀:

“You don’t like the food? Want me to order you something else?” he asks when he catches you staring at your plate instead of eating. He’s already cut your steak, sliding it over like he always does, waiting for you to eat.

You just sigh, pick up your wine, and down it in one go before reaching for the bottle. As expected, Eris catches your wrist before you can pour another.

“One glass is enough for tonight.”

You roll your eyes and, just to be a menace, grab his glass instead—draining it while holding eye contact.

His eyes narrow. “Be a big girl and spit it out, baby. What’s the matter?”

“Dunno. Maybe ask Jenny, you seem to get along just fine. Actually, why don’t you just date her? Fuck her while you’re at it.”

Eris wanted to sigh so loudly, but he knew that would only piss you off more. The waitress? Not even a thought in his mind. Sure, he noticed her flirty eyes and lovestruck smile, but that’s all it was, an observation. He’d ignored her completely, yet here you were, fuming. Like he’d ever cheat on you.

His jaw ticks as he drops two hundred dollar bills before standing up and speaking with scary calm. “Get up. We’re leaving.”

GOOD LUCK :D

Lucien

⤷ hair pulling

oh my god his hair is his weakness. like as soon as you run your hands through his hair he turns into mush and literally melts. i swear if he was a cat, he’d purr. sometimes if you scratch his scalp the right way, it can lead into the sloppiest, messiest makeout session ever. and when you’re in the middle of it, pull it. istg you’ll leave pregnant

⤷ dirty talk

king of talking reaaaaal nasty. like omg he could make a sailor blush. he’ll get so close to you, whispering in your ear and you get all hot and bothered and ticklish. other men might be quiet in bed BUT NOT THIS GUY. literally doesn’t stop talking and it just fuels him on like crazyyyy. and if you try to talk dirty back, he’ll sit there with the biggest grin and just hear you out.

⤷ roleplay

c’mon he’s a lil freak. he’s into tons of kinks like i think he likes to explore a lot too. butttt lucien and roleplay??👀👀 JACKPOTT!! he won’t say no to anything and is more of a try everything once kinda guy. him being a hot guard and you’re a princess he can’t have. imagine the hot taboo sex😈 or barmaid x customer, boss x secretary, enemies who fuck oh my god

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inkedinshadows · 14 days ago

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Double-edged Desires

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader x Eris

Summary: Azriel and Eris find themselves having to share a mate, and being away during the mating frenzy is never easy. For any one of you.

Warnings: smut, threesome, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, language

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: based on this request! Okay so, this turned into so much more than planned... I've never written Azriel and Eris together before tho, so for every Azris shipper out there, pls have mercy on me, but I actually like how it turned out. Especially cus I wasn't planning on anything beyond bickering and arguing for them and I fear I might have focused too much on them and not enough on y/n... and I didn't reread that many times, so excuse possible typose. Anyway okay bye enjoy <3

Azriel hated sharing a mate with Eris Vanserra.

It had been a shock to everyone when you discovered you had two mating bonds—with two very different males who couldn’t stand each other. They had argued at first over who should get to be with you, but you had been very adamant: you wouldn’t choose between them, and you would accept both bonds instead. The only thing left for them to do was accept your decision and try to make it work, doing their best to get along for your sake.

They had come to one important agreement: you always came first. In every situation. Your well-being, your happiness, your pleasure—all of it was their priority.

Which was why they had decided one of them should always be with you, especially now, during the first few weeks since your double mating ceremony, when the frenzy still hadn’t entirely passed.

But war and threats and death gods couldn’t be postponed, not even for you, and neither of them could refuse when they had to leave you for a few days to try to track down Koschei. They hadn’t talked much unless it was to discuss theories or mention you, but Azriel knew that, just like him, Eris was struggling.

Being away from you was a weight he could barely carry, and the frenzy only made it worse. Searching for clues and information helped, but when he lay down at night with nothing to do but think of you, Azriel would just stare at the ceiling for hours. It was the same for Eris—his shadows confirmed it in a whisper.

They could have helped each other, he supposed. After all, in the throes of passion, despite their focus on you, they had shared touches, kisses, sometimes more. And Azriel had long since stopped trying to convince himself he hadn’t enjoyed it. But he’d be damned before admitting it out loud. He was willing to bet it was the same for Eris, if his reactions to Azriel’s touch were any indication.

So they had spent days craving the touch of their mate—both of them knowing they could find some relief in each other and yet too stubborn to ask for it.

All that pent-up need and tension came crashing to the surface the moment they finally returned home and silently opened the door to your shared bedroom.

You were lying in bed, arms wrapped around your pillow, the sheets crumpled around your feet. A gentle breeze drifting in through the open window rustled the curtains, and the moonlight gave you an ethereal look as it bathed your sleeping form.

Your naked, sleeping form.

The sight was enough to stir a familiar hunger deep in Azriel’s core. His hand flexed at his side as if itching to reach out and touch you, and his Illyrian leathers were suddenly far too tight around his groin.

“Someone’s needy,” Eris whispered beside him, a tantalizing smirk curving his lips as always.

Azriel glanced at him—at the obvious bulge in his pants. “You’re one to talk.”

Eris’s annoying smirk only widened as he turned to face him. “Should we wake her?”

“No.” Azriel shot him a glare. “She’s sleeping.”

“Oh, come on, Shadowsinger.” Eris rolled his eyes. “She’s naked. We both know she doesn’t like sleeping that way. You really think it doesn’t mean anything?”

He knew Eris was right. It wasn’t hot enough yet to justify the open window, the discarded sheets, the lack of clothes. You were probably dealing with the same problem that had plagued him on the continent—surges of heat caused by the frenzy, which you usually handled by spending a good couple of hours locked inside with your mates. But they’d been away too long.

Eris took a step toward the bed, but Azriel shot out a hand and grabbed his arm to stop him. The redhead twirled around, an almost feral look in his amber eyes visible even in the darkness of the room.

“She needs me,” he seethed, yanking his arm free. At Azriel’s pointed look, he seemed to calm down. With a sigh, he added grudgingly, “Fine. Us. She needs us.”

Despite his own raging desire, despite the truth in Eris’s words and the need to touch you, taste you, bury himself inside you and never let go, Azriel still hesitated. You looked so peaceful as you slept—lips slightly parted, hair fanned out across the pillow, moonlight caressing your back and the curve of your ass.

“Just get changed and climb into bed, Vanserra,” he finally said. “Don’t you dare wake her up. You can wait until morning.”

No matter that he didn’t know how he would wait until morning while sleeping next to you, naked, after days of missing you.

The shuffling of sheets caught his attention, and both he and Eris turned just in time to see you stir slightly and roll onto your back. Azriel went rigid as your new position granted him a clear view of your body—from your soft breasts to the flare of your hips and the dip between your legs. Eris gasped softly at his side.

“Guys?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep. “Is that you?”

Both males immediately approached the bed, but Eris got there a second earlier. He flashed Azriel a gloating smile before reaching for you, running his slender fingers down your cheek.

“Hello, my darling,” he purred.

Azriel wanted to punch him in those perfect teeth.

Instead, he moved to your other side, wings tucked tight to his back so he could lean in close. “I'm sorry we woke you, angel,” he murmured. Unable to hold back any longer, he curled his hand around your waist, as if to pull you closer. Eris shot him a warning look, daring him to try.

“Don’t be,” you replied with a sleepy smile. “I’m not.”

You stretched with a soft hum, and Azriel's fingers squeezed you a bit tighter. Did you do it on purpose? Or were you just naively unaware of the effect you had on him? On both of them?

Lowering your arms again, your hands found their way to both their cheeks—one in each palm, your touch gentle as you welcomed them home.

“So,” you began, all traces of sleep gone from your voice, replaced by a teasing tilt, “who's getting the first kiss?”

They both moved, but Azriel was faster this time. His mouth found yours, lips finally meeting again, tongues moving in a familiar rhythm. But the tenderness of the kiss was short-lived as the frenzy overtook you both.

Your hand slipped from Eris's cheek to tangle in Azriel's hair, pulling him closer and drawing a low groan from his chest. His arm wrapped more securely around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and he was only dimly aware of Eris kissing your neck as he got lost in the hungry need to claim your mouth and every other inch of you.

But you pulled back before he could go further.

A satisfied smile graced your lips, but you didn't give him time to act. Instead, you tugged on Eris’s hair.

The Heir of Autumn lifted his head, and Azriel could only watch as the two of you shared a kiss as passionate as the one you'd shared with him.

He didn't know how you did it, but you always managed to split your time and your affection equally between your two mates. He loved that about you. It meant he didn't have to worry about you favoring and focusing only on Eris—which he was grateful for—but it also meant that you wouldn't favor and focus only on him.

Azriel shifted to lie more comfortably on the bed, planting a trail of open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone to your soft breasts. He captured one nipple between his lips, flicking it with the tip of his tongue while kneading your other breast with his hand.

The scent of your arousal soon filled the room and Azriel's senses. After days away from you, it made him need you the way he needed air to breathe. More, even.

His hand caressed down your stomach to where he knew he'd find you already wet. But instead, he found Eris’s hand already there, his fingers buried inside you, pumping slowly. A low growl rumbled in his throat, but as if sensing it, Eris moved his thumb aside, granting Azriel access to your clit.

It wasn't enough, but it was better than nothing.

You broke off your kiss with Eris when a moan spilled from your lips. Squirming between them, you spread your legs wider in a silent request for more.

“I’ve missed you,” Azriel murmured, releasing your nipple to look up at you, the pad of his thumb pressed firmly against your clit.

Of course, Eris had to chime in and steal your attention. “I’ve missed you more,” he added, pushing his fingers deeper inside you and drawing another moan.

“Guys,” you chuckled, though your voice was a little breathless, “I’ve missed you too. Both of you.” Your hands reached out to palm the bulges in their pants. “And I need you…”

They both sucked in a breath, but while Azriel pressed himself eagerly into your touch, ready to peel off his fighting leathers and bury himself inside you, Eris still didn’t withdraw his fingers from your cunt.

Azriel shot him a glare, but the redhead only smirked before positioning himself between your legs. “You should learn the art of patience, Shadowsinger,” he drawled, then he lowered his head and closed his lips around your clit.

A wave of annoyance surged through Azriel at the teasing reprimand, as if he hadn’t spent hours worshipping you and making sure you were fully satisfied before ever allowing himself to come. As sharing you with Eris wasn’t proof enough of just how patient he could be.

“Az…”

Your voice snapped him back to you. You were biting your lower lip, soft whimpers escaping you as Eris pleasured you, but your hands were now working to unbuckle Azriel's pants. When you finally got them undone, he stood to take them off, along with the rest of his clothes, discarding everything on the floor.

The moment he joined you again on the bed, your hands were on him. You wrapped your fingers around his hard cock, giving him a gentle squeeze that made him buck in your grasp. He barely had time to steady himself before you propped up on one forearm and guided him into your mouth.

Azriel gasped, his eyes nearly rolling back as you swirled your tongue around his leaking tip. “Fuck…” he breathed. His fingers curled into your hair, and then he was thrusting shallowly into your warm, welcoming mouth.

Your muffled moans mixed with Azriel’s and with Eris’s pleased hums against your flesh every time your hips bucked—his lips and fingers relentless in their assault on your senses.

As you took Azriel deeper and relaxed your throat around him, he groaned, chest heaving and head falling back. His hips jerked forward instinctively, and you gagged around him, but you didn’t pull back or signal for him to stop. You simply looked up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, now wide with lust and fluttering beneath Eris’s expert touch.

Azriel knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, not if you kept looking at him like that while sucking him off so eagerly. He managed to hold back for a few more moments, but as pressure built and release surged closer, he pulled out of your mouth with a grunt.

You gasped for air, lips still parted, as if expecting him to push back in.

Azriel’s hand moved from the back of your head to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lip. “Not yet, my love,” he murmured, his voice slightly breathless. “I don’t want to come just yet.”

Before you could reply, Eris lifted his head from between your thighs. “Should we let her come, though?” he mused as his fingers curled inside you, drawing a whimper from your lips. “She’s so close. I can tell.”

Azriel glanced at him, a silent understanding passing between them. You came first. Always. Even if it wasn't by his hand. Not yet, at least.

“What do you think, angel?” he asked, turning his gaze back to you. “Should we let you come already?”

You nodded, eyes darting between the two of them. “Yes… I need to come.”

Azriel looked back at Eris with a smirk. “Make her come, Vanserra.”

Eris didn’t waste a second. He lowered his mouth to your cunt again, and as much as Azriel wanted to be the one tasting you and making you squirm and moan, he couldn't deny how incredibly arousing it was to watch Eris Vanserra feast on you.

Your hand slipped into Azriel's, holding onto him as your breaths turned into pants. He leaned down to capture your lips in a heated kiss while his other hand cupped your breast, skilled fingers teasing your nipple with practiced ease.

It was only a matter of moments before your body arched off the bed, your muscles tensing and trembling as you came on Eris’s tongue and fingers. Azriel swallowed your soft cries, unwilling to break the kiss just yet.

Only when you relaxed again did he pull back, at the same time Eris lifted his head. You were panting, one final whimper escaping your lips as Eris slowly pulled his fingers out of you. But just as he brought them to his mouth to lick them clean, you reached out to stop him.

“Wait,” you urged. “Let Azriel do it.”

Both males froze. Azriel's eyes widened in surprise, Eris merely arched a brow.

“You want him to suck my fingers?”

“Yes.” You pushed yourself up slightly, a sly smile curving your lips. “Give him a chance to taste me.”

It was just an excuse, Azriel knew that. Why taste you from Eris's fingers when he could do it directly from the source? But he also knew that you loved watching them touch not just you, but each other as well.

It was how it had all started, after all. You had asked them if they could please kiss each other, at least once, to know what it felt like. It had taken a little convincing, but neither of them could ever say no to you. You'd asked again after that. Sometimes not only for a kiss. And sometimes, you didn't even have to ask.

“Fine,” Azriel grumbled.

You and Eris both stared at him, likely surprised he'd agreed so quickly. But after fucking Eris while he went down on you, licking his fingers didn't seem like such a big deal.

The Heir of Autumn turned toward him, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. “Eager, Shadowsinger?”

“Shut up, Vanserra,” he growled back. “Just give me your damn hand.”

Eris opened his mouth to reply, but you spoke first.

“Boys, boys, please,” you said with a soft laugh. “No need to get heated over this, don't you think?”

“Sorry, my love,” they answered in unison.

They exchanged an awkward glance, but then Eris lifted his hand, his lips curling in amusement.

Azriel didn't let himself second-guess it as he grabbed the male's wrist and tugged him closer. He glanced at you—still smiling at them—one last time before sealing his lips around the two fingers Eris had buried inside you.

Your slick release still coated them, the familiar taste flooding his mouth, laced now with something distinctly Eris. His skin.

Azriel swirled his tongue around the long digits, torn between savoring it or getting it over with quickly. He could already hear the comments Eris was certainly holding back, especially when that small smile curved into a full grin. Azriel shot him a glare, sharp enough to silence any smug remarks, but Eris just arched an amused brow in response.

Even after Azriel pulled away, the two males exchanged a long, heated glance—only for your voice to pull them both back to earth.

“Beautiful,” you murmured, your hungry gaze sweeping over them. Azriel felt desire stir in his gut again, but you turned to Eris, nodding toward his still clothed form. “Don’t you think it’s time you took those off?”

Eris nodded instantly. “Of course, my darling.”

As he stood to undress, Azriel moved to take the spot Eris had just vacated—right between your legs, where he wanted to be. But you shifted first, flashing him a playful wink as you got on your hands and knees.

Azriel grinned, his hands sliding over your hips. “Is this how you want me?”

Eris, now fully naked, settled in front of you. “Us, Shadowsinger,” he corrected smoothly. “It’s how she wants us.” He caressed your cheek. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

“C’mon, guys,” you mumbled, though there was a hint of amusement in your voice, “you know you don’t need to fight over me. Why don’t you kiss each other while fucking me to make up for it?”

Azriel didn’t particularly care about the first part of that suggestion. All he heard was your permission to fuck you, and he was more than ready bury his cock inside you.

Eris replied with something Azriel didn’t listen to, one hand already tightening around your waist while he lined himself up with your dripping folds. Just brushing his cock against your cunt made his breath hitch. But instead of pushing inside, he glanced up and met Eris’s eyes over your back.

Despite their differences and apparent dislike for each other, they’d developed a silent language since your mating ceremony—one that didn't need words. After Eris positioned himself in front of you, his cock brushing your parted lips, he gave a small nod. That was all he took.

They thrust forward in perfect unison.

Three moans echoed in the room—yours the loudest of all—as they filled you from both ends.

It was heaven.

It had only been a few days since Azriel last felt you clench around his cock, but fuck, he had missed it. Would always miss it. Frenzy or not, he loved you.

You took them so beautifully, every movement of your body pulling them deeper, every sound from your lips making Azriel want to come far too soon. Their rhythm was one they'd practiced and refined—measured thrusts, timed perfectly, all for your pleasure.

But even as Azriel focused on the feel of you wrapped around him he felt Eris's gaze lingering on him.

“You heard the lady,” Eris said, his voice strained as your mouth moved over his cock. “So what are we waiting for?”

Azriel lifted a brow, hips never slowing. “Eager to kiss me, Eris?”

The Autumn Heir faltered for just a beat before his thrusts resumed, amber eyes glinting. He leaned forward, sliding deeper into your mouth—not that you minded, judging by the muffled moan you gave—and leaned ever closer to Azriel.

“You suck my fingers and suddenly you use my first name?” he drawled.

Azriel blinked. He hadn’t even realized he'd said it. It had just come out naturally.

He wondered, briefly, how it would feel to hear Eris say his name in return.

“Shut up,” he muttered instead.

Still holding your waist with one hand, he reached up with the other and pulled Eris closer. Their mouths met in a heated, desperate kiss—both of them trying to take control, neither of them willing to give it.

The room filled with sound—skin on skin, soft gasps and muffled moans, the creak of the bed frame, and the wet, urgent heat of their kiss.

And as your body clenched around him and Eris's tongue slid against his, Azriel knew.

He was exactly where he was meant to be.

With his mate, and with whatever Eris Vanserra was starting to become.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34 @yesiamthatwierd

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really-fanny-longbottom · 11 months ago

Text

never yours

azriel x reader, azriel x elain, lucien x reader | azriel never regretted his decisions so much like he does right now. warnings: angst (like a lot), fluff (also a lot because we need a balance) words: 6k

masterlist

you were born in day court during the longest and the warmest day of the year — summer solstice.

even though it's not a custom to exchange gifts on that holiday, your parents always told you that you were their greatest gift and that the sun shined brighter that day like he knew that you would be entering this world very soon.

your father was helion's best and longest friend, and he had a place in his court as his second in command and advisor.

your mother was the lead healer of the court. she was one of the most powerful and talented healers of prythian, being a very close second to madja.

due to your parents' jobs, you grew up in the day court palace and close to helion, who didn't just happen to be your high lord but also your godfather.

your parents reconsider that maybe making helion your godfather had been a mistake because of how much he spoiled you.

on your 4th birthday, he gave you a black baby pegasus as a present, which you decided to name him blackjack.

when he discovered that you liked reading, he had a private library built in your room with all kinds of books.

when you were seven and heard an old male saying that females should only wear dresses, you only wore pants for the next three months and of course, helion made sure you had every type of pants at your disposal.

when your parents tried to scold him, he just scoffed with his only response being, 'she's my goddaughter. what else am i supposed to do?' with a big grin plastered in his face.

you weren't helion's child, but he always treated you like one, and that never changed, especially after your parents' death.

your favorite thing about your parents was their mating bond. after you learned that mates are rare and a blessing, it made every single thing about your parents' love even more unique and pure.

you saw first hand what true love is really like. you saw how much they loved, cared, supported, and protected each other.

you saw loyalty and honesty in their deepest forms. seeing your parents' mating bond made you wish to the stars for a mate, and that one day, you would be blessed enough to find him.

but you also saw how deep a mating bond could go — you saw it first hand, too.

you saw it when your mother died after getting infected by a rare disease while trying to help her patients.

her death destroyed your father. the pain and the grief of losing your mother — his mate, and the love of his life were so big that your father followed her into the next life a few days later, so they could start their next journey together.

before he died, your father made helion promise him that he would take care of you, which he agreed without hesitation.

he became more protective of you. he couldn't stop thinking how unfair it was for you to lose your parents at such a young age, only eleven years old, when helion had them for centuries.

your godfather made sure to provide you with anything you needed from the best education to the best clothes, and when your healing powers start manifesting and you decide to follow your mother's steps, helion called in a favor to thesan to see if he could teach you himself.

the high lord of dawn was happy to accept, and so were you at the thought of having him as your teacher.

you moved to dawn court for a year where you learned everything about being a healer, not only with the high lord himself but also with his best healers.

you became one of the best — talented, powerful, gifted, and wise. just like your mother.

madja was looking for an apprentice at the time you returned to day, and when she heard about your skills, she asked for you.

rhysand reached out to helion with madja's offer — you would be her apprentice, work in the clinic with her but you would also assist her if she ever needed to go to a patient's residence, and would learn everything she could teach you.

it wasn't needed to convince you to agree. you had heard about madja and her healing, after thesan, she was the healer you wanted to work with the most, so of course you were more than happy to have a chance to have her as your mentor.

rhysand added that you would be welcome to stay in one of his personal residences, the house of wind, during your stay in velaris.

you were only supposed to stay in the night court for a year, but that was before you met the shadowsinger.

however, despite wanting the apprenticeship more than anything, if you had known what would happen when you agreed to go to the night court, you would never have accepted the offer.

•••

azriel couldn't sleep.

no matter how much he tried, he couldn't. not with tomorrow so close, not when he knew what was waiting for him in the morning.

the past was haunting him tonight, his thoughts hadn't stopped since he had been informed earlier of tomorrow's meeting.

so now, here he was, trying to keep his eyes open even though his body was protesting for him to do the opposite.

but he was fighting that need because every time he closed his eyes, you were all he saw.

your beautiful face with your sparkling eyes, your smooth hair, your pointy ears, your sweet voice, and your soft laughter.

you were haunting his thoughts like a punishment for all those years ago.

so all he could do now was to sit on the edge of his balcony with his legs hanging off while waiting for the sun to be born, and remember how things used to be before he destroyed everything.

•••

everything was perfect in the beginning.

velaris was beautiful, the people were kind, and the pastries were absolutely delicious.

the only thing you actually missed, besides helion, was the warmth of the sun like no other court had but the day court — that was just the day citizen in you talking.

your apprenticeship was going amazing. you and madja had instantly connected, and you were learning so much.

two weeks later, you were already attending your own patients without supervision.

you really had a gift, and every time madja complimented your powers, you gave all the credits to your genes — to your mom.

it warmed your heart knowing that the mother had blessed you with this part of her. In this way, it felt like she was always with you.

the house of wind felt just like home, and you adjusted perfectly.

the inner circle had welcomed you with open arms, and you got along with everyone. they thought you and mor would be the closest of all, but they got a big surprise when it turned out to be you and azriel.

the shadowsinger was different from everyone you ever met.

everyone in day was so loud, extroverted and open.

but not him.

he was calm, reserved, and difficult to read, but with time, you ended up finding out that the two of you were more alike than you thought. you were able to go through the shell that azriel had so perfectly built around him over the centuries.

a friendship was born.

every day, qzriel would fly you to the clinic and then back to the house. you explored velaris together and made your personal mission to try every single restaurant and bakery from the city of starlight.

you walked along the sidra and even stopped once in a while to dance along the melodies that the musicians were playing. you would read together whether that was in the library, in your room, or in his. you even started training with him and sometimes, cassian.

you became each other's person.

when a day at the clinic was hard or you would lose a patient, he was there to hug and comfort you, and you found yourself doing the same for him about his missions.

so you decided to take the next step and spoke about your parents' death, how much still affected you losing them.

and in that moment, azriel realized how much trust you put in him, so he decided to return it and opened about his past, his family, and his hands. you listened to every word, cleaned every tear, and held him for as long as he needed.

tou found yourself falling in love with him a little more day by day, and it only took you a few months to realize that you were completely in love.

the day the bond snapped was one of the happiest days of your life.

it happened during the most beautiful celebration in the night court — starfall.

your hair was tied in a long braid that reached down to your waist, decorating the braid were small yellow daylilies.

you were wearing a golden dress that fit perfectly against your sun-kissed skin. the dress had a slit on the left side that went up to the top of your thigh, a single strap held the dress on your right shoulder and when you turned around, whoever was behind you could have a perfect view of your naked back.

golden jewels rested on your ears and neck.

you looked like a goddess — one blessed by the sun itself.

you were shining just like a day court citizen should.

azriel standed next to you in the balcony while gazing at the spirits passing.

both of your hands rested on the stone of the balcony, and when you went to adjust your hand, it brushed against azriel's.

at the new feeling, you looked up to find his eyes, only to see the shadowsinger already looking at you.

in that moment, with the touching of your hands and the meeting of your eyes, the world stopped.

your hands start interviewing, and everything else just disappeared.

it was just the two of you and the sound of your heartbeats. and then, a golden thread appeared and started tying your hearts and souls.

azriel held your free hand and pressed it against his own chest, right where his heart laid.

you followed his action, freeing your intertwined hands and putting his hand on your chest, above your heart.

with the final loop of the golden thread around your hearts, azriel bent down and kissed you.

that moment couldn't be more beautiful and magical even if you tried.

you had finally found the mate that you had wished to the stars all those years ago.

everything was perfect.

you had everything you wanted and more.

you lived in a beautiful city that you learned to love and were starting to call it home.

you had the job of your life, working alongside one of your idols.

amazing friends that made you feel welcomed and part of a little family.

and finally, your mate, the male you were in love with, long before that beautiful and sacred golden thread.

everything was perfect.

but of course, nothing lasts forever.

and all of that disappeared when elain archeron came into the picture.

•••

ten years.

he couldn't believe that much time had passed. all those years without you.

it had been ten years since the last time he saw you.

ten years since he had heard something regarding you.

ten years since he had broken your heart.

and ten years since he had made the biggest mistake of his entire existence.

you had moved back to day court after that day, after what happened and after what he did.

the high lord of day had forbidden azriel from seeing you and from trying to contact you in any way.

and months later, when the rumors of a certain shadowsinger flying above the palace in hopes to get a glimpse of you reached his ears, helion banned him from his court.

helion had always been a very charismatic and loving person.

he's kind, generous, and a very good friend. He gets along with almost everyone, always joking around and laughing.

some people may say that he's the nicest and kindest high lord that prythian has ever seen.

when problems arise, he always tries to find a solution to solve them or if a solution is not possible, a way to improve them.

but not this time.

not when it comes to you and his son — Lucien.

because your heart wasn't the only one to be shattered that day.

no.

lucien's heart was a victim, too.

so, from that moment, everything that helion did was to protect you and lucien.

to make sure that you felt safe, that you had space and time to heal.

azriel's banishment wasn't the only consequence from the events of that day.

that day also cost the alliance between the day court and the night court, and when the alliance fell apart, so did helion and rhysand's friendship.

but azriel wasn't the only one to blame for all of this.

elain archeron was guilty, too.

she, too, was banished from the day court and forbidden to contact lucien in any way.

but unlike azriel, elain's actions cause far more consequences than his.

the autumn court followed the same decisions as the day court.

the banishment of azriel and elain and the prohibition of any kind of contact with lucien.

eris, now the new high lord of the autumn court after beron's death, didn't take lightly to what happened to his little brother.

the two of them had reconnected after eris became high lord.

they talked through everything that had happened in the last centuries, made peace with their past, and decided to move forward together.

now, the brothers were inseparable and had the kind of relationship they had always wanted since they were younger.

so when eris heard what had happened, he considered those actions as a personal attack.

he went as far as to offer lucien the opportunity to choose the blood duel, which his little brother refused, saying that all of this had already caused enough pain.

eris wasn't angry just because of lucien.

he was angry because of you, too.

you were the first person to give him the benefit of the doubt, the first one to not judge him and unlike the others you tried to get to know him, to be his friend and he let you.

6ou were the first one to know the real eris, to know what he hid behind the mask.

therefore, you had a special place in his heart. even if you didn't share the same blood, you were part of his family.

but that didn't stop with day and autumn. spring joined them, too.

despite everything that happened and the fact that they were still working on their friendship, tamlin's loyalty remained with lucien.

spring had been lucien's home for decades, and with that came a brotherhood between the two of them.

needless to mention that jurian and vassa's loyalties also remained with lucien.

to everyone outside the situation, all of this may seem overreacted and exaggerated.

but to everyone involved, it's not.

after all, you and lucien almost died.

that's what happens when a mating bond is rejected.

•••

azriel couldn't believe things had turned out this way.

he was so sure that the cauldron was wrong, that he belonged with Elain.

three sisters for three brothers.

how more poetic could it be?

there were signals everywhere.

feyre with rhysand.

nesta with cassian.

elain with him.

elain wouldn't go close to lucien or talk to him, but she would sit next to him whether during dinners or on the couch, she would talk to him, and requested his company when she went to the garden or to the city.

even his shadows disappeared every time he was with her.

weren't those signals clear enough?

they were meant to be.

the cauldron was wrong.

so azriel did what he thought was right.

he rejected the mating bond with you, and elain did the same with lucien.

he never thought that the rejection of the bond would've almost cost your life.

that memory still gave him nightmares to this day.

how pale you turned, how you sank to your knees with your hand pressed against your chest, tears running free down your cheeks and muffled screams leaving your lips.

how much pain you had suffered and how he had been the cause of it.

how once, not that long ago, he had been the reason for your smiles, laughs, and giggles.

but that memory wasn't his.

it was rhysand's.

rhys, who had to go through your mind shields, and knock you unconscious so the pain would stop and that memory led him to another memory.

the memory of that day and the things that had followed after he shattered your heart.

•••

azriel wasn't there the moment it happened.

no, he was too busy kissing elain after admitting how much they craved each other.

and while he kissed elain, he felt that golden thread tying the two of you breaking and start slowly to disappear.

nothing could have prepared him for that last memory of you when he and elain were summoned to the river house a few hours later.

rhys had shown him not as a courtesy but as a lesson of how much his actions can affect others.

but you weren't just some other.

you were his mate — former mate.

azriel made a move to go find you.

he needed to explain it to you, and he needed you to understand, but you were already gone.

rhys told him that after you regained consciousness, lucien took you with him back to day court.

lucien.

who you had become instantly friends with since the male's arrival in velaris.

you had treated him just like you were when you moved to the night court.

you showed him the city, the good restaurants and the best pastries, and also told him about Helion, now that he knew the high lord was his father and he was his heir.

you wanted him to feel like home, just like you did.

when Azriel made his intentions clear to go to day and find you, rhys showed him the letter helion had sent.

the one that forbidden him from seeing you and from trying to contact you in any way.

the one that also had the same indications to elain regarding lucien.

and that if any of them tried to disobey his orders, there would be consequences.

azriel knew of protective the male was of you and that he would do anything to protect his family, so for a split second, azriel found himself fearing the high lord.

rhysand also ordered them to stay away from the two of you, stating that they had already created enough problems and the night court could not afford a war with day.

after they left his office, rhys sat down on his chair, trying to think how he was gonna solve this.

his mind kept going back to you and lucien.

he was there when lucien came for you.

the red headed male was also pale and every few minutes, his hand would press to his chest in pain, his eyes were still red, probably from the tears he had shed.

rhys knew that Helion's letter wouldn't be the only one he would receive that day.

and like he was right, three more letters arrived during it.

first from autumn, then spring and the last one from the band of exiles.

rhys passed a hand through his black hair and released a long sigh.

azriel and elain actions had just cost four allies to the night court.

•••

when you and lucien arrived in day, helion almost fell to his knees at your sight.

you were in lucien's arms, your eyes half open with tears still following down your cheeks.

one of your hands was against your chest, rubbing small circles in a way of trying to get rid of the pain.

lucien wasn't much better.

helion headed towards you and started examining you for injuries, but he found nothing.

when confusion made his way to his features, Lucien told him everything.

the confusion was replaced by anger, but the anger wasn't just directed towards the shadowsinger and the middle archeron sister.

some of it was towards himself.

towards himself, because seeing you like that, helion felt that he had broken the promise he made to your dad and that this was his fault.

without giving time for any more thoughts to fill his mind, helion led lucien to your room, where the heir laid you on the bed.

you had fallen asleep in his arms with your cheeks still stained.

lucien sat on the chair by your desk that was placed in front of your bed and said to Helion that he would stay with you.

helion gave him a firm nod, remembering that lucien didn't have a room yet in his palace, but he was about to fix that.

helion didn't waste any time after making sure that the two of you were okay for now.

he called two of his servants to prepare a room for the young heir and went straight to his office where he wrote the letter and sent it to rhysand.

the next week's were a complicated ones but showed that time was the best healer.

you no longer spend the days locked in your room alone.

you started to eat properly again and went back to work.

day by day, you were smiling more, sometimes making jokes.

lucien improved as well.

he decided to live in the day court for the time being and took his place as helion's second in command.

his relationship with helion was also getting stronger over time.

they were making up for the lost time.

but that wasn't the only thing that changed. your relationship with lucien also changed.

you got closer than ever, due to the fact you were the only ones who knew what the other was going through.

you found comfort in each other's presence and started spending more time together to the point where you became each other's favorite person.

little by little, you start helping each other heal.

you started putting back together the pieces that had been broken, and the pain started slowly fading until the day that it didn't hurt anymore.

you two mended your hearts and souls, and for the first time, in a long time, you were full again.

your friendship grew, and so did your feelings for each other.

•••

azriel couldn't believe how wrong he had been.

because the cauldron wasn't wrong, it had never been wrong.

he was the one who was wrong — right from the beginning.

he and elain had tried a relationship after yours and lucien's departure.

it worked for six months until it didn't.

azriel questioned himself why the relationship was starting to fail and why being with elain was starting to feel wrong.

it didn't take him too long to understand the reason. It was because she wasn't you.

he found out that the reason his shadows disappear every time he was with elain wasn't because they were destined but because they were with you.

his shadows would leave him and elain to go find you, like they were stating that they wouldn't betray you, that they chose you.

on the day he broke up with elain, he found his shadows in your old room, which once was filled with colors, books, paintings, and light, and now was empty, dusty, and dark.

the shadows were swimming around your starfall dress — the one you wore on the day your bond had snapped.

the sight of the dress was painful, and he understood why it had been left behind.

azriel had tried to apologize.

he flew to day court and around the palace trying to find you but he never did and the next day helion sent a letter with his and elain's banishment, making autumn and spring to make the same decision.

he understood why.

they were trying to protect you and lucien, and even though he didn't have the right, he just wanted to know if you were okay.

he asked rhys several times if he knew something about you, and thys revealed to him that you weren't talking to him or the other members of the inner circle either.

you had stated that it was too early and still very painful.

so they respected your decision and kept their distance.

that had caused azriel's guilt to grow even more.

how he wished for nesta to still have her powers so he could go back in time and repair all of this.

the light of the sun broke his thoughts.

the sun was finally making its appearance in the orange and yellow sky.

azriel released a long breath and looked at the clock perched on his bedroom wall.

the morning was here, and he was only two hours away from seeing you.

•••

the inner circle stood at the entrance of the day court palace.

helion had lifted the banishment for this meeting with yours and lucien consent.

both of you said that it had been a long time and that the past should stay in the past, but that didn't mean you would be accepting any apologies today.

koschei was on the rise again, and prythian needed to come together once more.

right now, your past didn't matter.

the doors swung open, and the inner circle made their way inside.

a servant led them to the conference room located in the same hallway as helion's office on the first floor of the palace.

they sat at the marble table while the servant informed them, "the high lord will be here in a few minutes."

receiving a nod and a 'thank you' from rhysand, the servant left.

rhys started, "y/n and lucien will also be in this meeting. now, helion was nice enough to allow the two of you back here, so do not ruin this."

he finished while looking at azriel and elain, making them both nod their heads.

helion entered the room, and the inner circle raised from their seats.

the high lord of the day court made his way to the head of the table.

he turned to the side where rhys and his inner circle stood, offering his hand to rhys to shake it.

taken by surprise, rhys needed a few seconds to process what was happening before accepting his hand.

once they had shaken hands, everyone returned to their seats, but not before helion sent a disapproving look in azriel's and elain's direction.

a few minutes into the meeting, the door to the conference room opened again.

and there you were.

you were dressed in day attire. a beautiful white dress that hugged your body, with your hair loosen and golden jewelry adorned your neck and ears.

lucien was by your side also wearing day attire, one that matched helion's, with your hand in his.

the inner circle held their breaths at your sight.

it had been ten years, but all the memories came flashing back to them.

you looked the same, but when you two approached the table, that's when they saw it and shock spread all over their faces.

azriel couldn't believe what he was seeing.

he didn't know what he was expecting to see at this meeting, but it wasn't this.

it wasn't the golden ring that you and lucien had matching on your left hands informing him that you were married that shocked him.

it was the small and round belly that your free hand was resting on and the sweet vanilla scent that was filling the air — the scent of yours and lucien's baby.

"apologies for our delay," lucien started, then looking in your direction with a smile continued "someone had a big appetite this morning," he ended with a laugh.

you looked at his gaze, a genuine smile on your lips "shut up," you whispered.

lucien grabs the back of your chair, pulling it to give you enough space to sit. "thank you, my love."

you said while watching him take the seat at your right, making you stay seated between him and Helion.

for the first time since you entered the room, you looked at the people in front of you. "night court," you greeted with a small smile.

feyre was the first to say, "congratulations, y/n and lucien."

lucien spoke this time. "thank you, feyre." he rested his hand on your belly.

"how far long are you?" rhysand's voice reached your ears.

looking in his direction, you answered, "23 weeks. lucien thinks it's a girl, but i think it's a boy," you added, making rhys smile.

"i always took you for a boy mom." amren's voice surprised you and couldn't help but smile at her words.

"congratulations to you two. the mother knows you deserve it." she finished with a genuine smile.

lucien looked at azriel and elain before directing his eyes to the ancient one "yes, we do. thank you, amren."

lucien paused for a second before turning in helion's direction and continuing. “let's not keep holding on to the meeting. please go on, father."

helion proceeded with the meeting, but azriel didn't listen to a word that was said.

he couldn't tear his eyes from you and lucien.

there was no doubt of the love you two shared, not when it was written in both of your eyes.

he didn't miss Lucien caresing your belly and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, passing his thumb over your jaw, and kissing your cheek after.

or how you rested your right hand on top of his on your belly while your left passed through his long red hair before resting around his shoulders and your smile while doing it.

what bigger proof did he need of your love if not for the baby you were carrying?

lucien's baby, he kept telling himself.

not his.

lucien's.

jealousy invaded his body, but there was nothing he could do.

he made his decision ten years ago, and now he had to live with it.

lost in his thoughts, he only realized the meeting was over when everyone started standing.

rhys and helion were finishing talking, and when the doors opened one more time, eris vanserra walked in with a little ginger boy in his arms.

he couldn't be more than five years old.

he looked exactly like lucien, except for his eyes — those were yours.

azriel's heart sank, and it sank even more a few seconds later, when the little boy spotted you and lucien.

you already had a baby and you were about to have your second.

with a big smile appearing on his sweet face, the little boy almost shouted, "mommy! daddy!"

the boy jumped from his uncle's arms and ran to you.

you bend down and gather the happy boy in your arms before standing again and passing a hand through his ginger curls and saying, "hi, baby."

you peppered his face with kisses, making him laugh even more. "i thought you were having fun with your uncle," you said, looking at your brother in law.

your son pouted “uncle eris doesn't know how to play. he only wants to do the boring stuff, mommy.”

everyone in the room chuckled. eris gasped with fake hurt “excuse me?”

“elijah.” lucien chuckled and said to your son after joining your side “don't be rude to your uncle.”

“but it’s the truth, daddy.” elijah hid his face on your neck.

eris approached the little family with a smile directed to his nephew. "sorry. i tried to keep him entertained, but he just kept asking about you two."

lucien noticed his older brother had paint and glitter on his white shirt and laughed at the thought of his son giving him a hard time before exclaiming, "it's alright, brother. we were about to leave anyway."

the little boy settled in your arms and rested his head against yours, lucien started rubbing his back.

when the little boy caught the sight of his grandfather, he asked before anyone could stop him "grandpa, how was the meeting with the idiots from the night court?"

the room went quiet, and a few gasps escaped.

at your son's words, you turned to look at Helion, now on mom's mood. "helion! how many times do we have to tell you not to speak like that in front of him?"

the room erupted in laughter at your statement.

the air became lighter, and helion put his hands in surrender, promising you that it wouldn't happen again.

you gave him an incredulous look, saying that you didn't believe him.

your son wrapped his tiny arms around your neck and rested his head on your shoulder with a yawn leaving his lips.

you rubbed your son's back while speaking to him. "C'mon, elijah. let's leave before your grandfather comes up with a new bad word for you to learn."

“bad grandpa” your son agreed with you while earning new chuckles from the night court.

even though he was trying to hold his smile, azriel failed. your son was too adorable.

you turned your gaze to the inner circle and gave them a smile. "it was good to see you all."

"you too, y/n. i missed you." cassian replied.

your smile stretched before telling him, "i missed you too, cass."

the nickname made his heart ache — maybe there's still a chance for you to reconnect.

you turned to look behind you, meeting your husband's eyes "you're coming, lu?"

a pink blush made its way to lucien's cheeks "of course, my love."

the heir looked at his father, "we'll see you at dinner, father. night court." he said, giving the inner circle a small nod before joining you and wrapping his arm around your waist and giving a kiss to your now sleeping son.

amren spoke again “see i told you were a boy mom.”

“you're right. if this baby happens to be a boy as well, i'm gonna be in trouble.” you replied with an arm holding your son and while the other made its way to your belly.

“no, you're not. you're gonna be great.” nesta spoke, a genuine smile on her lips “we already can see you are.” she gestured to the little boy sleeping in your arms.

“thank you, nes.” you were grateful for her words.

on your way out, you met azriel's eyes, but you couldn't find the words, so you simply gave him a nod with a small smile, and azriel returned the gesture.

when the door closed, amren was the first to break the silence "well, the mother has a sense of humor."

everyone turned to look at her, but she focused her gaze on azriel and elain.

"you rejected them because you believed you belonged with one another only for your relationship to fail six months later. and now," she released a laugh, "your former mates found their way towards each other. fell in love, got married, have a son, and have another baby on the way. ironic isn't it?" she said with the feline smile returning to her lips.

it was helion who spoke next, amusement all over his face, "indeed. i guess karma is a bitch."

he sent a disapproving look one more time in the direction of the two people who almost cost him his family before exiting the room.

amren's and Helion's words stung, but azriel knew it was nothing but the truth. He realized in that moment that despite your life now and how things turned out, you would never forgive him.

he had lost you forever, and now he had to live with regret for the rest of his life.

after all, you were no longer his.

a/n: thank you for reading! i'm thinking in making a general taglist so if you wish to be added let me know.

dividers by @cafekitsune

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lunarxcity · 22 days ago

Text

Why here? (Part VI to Why me?)

azriel x rhys' sister! reader

angst/eventual comfort ( Now this one is a bit different from the rest and is a bit angsty and more Eris and Azriel focused so we'll see how that goes )

Summary: When you walk in on Azriel and Elain the mating bond snaps leading you to flee to Autumn with Eris so you can be free of Azriel. Your absence causes Azriel to come to some drastic realisations, but is it already too late and has your time in Autumn led to you moving on?

Parts I, II, III, IV, and V if you missed them!

There is an enchanted chessboard older than the cauldron itself. Before the fae inhabited this world and when the creatures in the prison roamed free Fate had gifted the Mother a chessboard. They play more often than not and through the centuries the stakes have gotten higher and higher.

Around the times of the first high lords, when the lines of the courts were being drawn and the Cauldron was being built an intruder had run interference on their game. A small black tendril, nameless in nature and free in spirit, the first shadow of this world. The emergence of the first shadowsinger had awoken it, apparently teaching it to shift through the different worlds and it had accidentally stumbled upon the Mother's. The shadow had swirled around the pieces, animating them and moving them around which gave the Mother the wonderful idea of turning her pieces into the lives of actual fae as the chess games had become rather boring lately.

So for centuries, the Mother and Fate have been writing the destinies of unsuspecting fae. Move after move, piece after piece. Now this particular game has hit quite a standstill. Move after move and yet no clear winner or end in sight. The story of you and Azriel has been a rather difficult one to craft and the game has been played for hundreds of years, it's vicious and cut-throat. The Mother who has been playing for you has been going for direct and sharp moves, while Fate who has been playing for Azriel has been going for the unsuspecting moves, the ones that you don't realise are happening until it's too late.

"How long are we going to make them dance around each other for?" The Mother looked at Fate with her all-knowing gaze before she began to eye her pieces, a pensive look that only belonged to someone who is actively working out their strategy because if the Mother hated one thing it was losing.

Fate looked back at her, "We could continue this game for all eternity darling. What's the rush when we have forever? You do know how I love a slow dance." Fate had always loved the journey, he loved to craft these elaborate stories for the Mother's characters, he always told her that he believed it would make the payoff better, but she was rather fond of these characters and they had been playing for so very long.

The Mother made her move. She sighed, "Haven't we made them go through enough? I do like these ones they might be my favourites." She looks at him in his ethereal eyes, glowing with a light that was anything but mortal, "You do know the sister plotline was a bit much. She has gone through enough any more struggles and she might not even want the mating bond anymore."

He looks at her and then the pieces, competition lacing his very being, he moves his piece. "I believe that suffering is the only way to bring out the truth of someone's character. It is in these moments of darkness that we must look actually look at ourselves and truly see us for what we are."

He picks reaches out across the table and holds her hand. "This is the only time we can truly change for the better. They would have never been happy together otherwise my love. You know that you made them both too stubborn for their own good." Fate gives the Mother a blinding smile, one with all the kindness and reprise that he refuses to give the ones who's destiny he is in charge of.

She gives him an annoyed look. Not one of true annoyance but rather an I'm annoyed your right and know me well enough to know I agree with you kind of annoyance. She gives a small smile back and goes, "Yes the shadowsinger reminds me of a certain someone too. Someone who is also too stubborn for his own good and refuses to accept a loss.

At this the Mother smirks and moves her piece, she looks at Fate with a mischievous grin and forces his hand. Very few had the power to tamper with Fate, but right now the Mother had him in the palm of her hand. She smiles and for the first time in almost 500 years she it looks like the game is going in her favour, the endgame is near and she refuses to lose.

"Check."

In the Gardens of Velaris, there was a shadowsinger hiding in the shadows. This was not an unusual sight, as his job description entails spying and the shadows are curious creatures, what was unusual was the feeling of the mating bond that had just snapped for Azriel.

He has been yearning for this very thing for Centuries, so now that he has it, why does the world feel like it's collapsing beneath his feet. You were only a few feet away in the distance. He could literally see you. See you laughing with Eris. Eris.

Rage envelops him and a way of thinking so primal and ancient is fighting with his rational mind. Well as rational as it could be mind. A bombshell has been dropped on him and he is trying his best under the current circumstances to stay calm and not tear Eris' throat out for being that close to you and even worse, making you laugh.

Shadows emanate from every fibre of his being. The shadows take over, and Night hears them, and together, they envelop the court in an all-consuming blackness that snuffs out every light source for miles. It had only lasted for a millisecond, barely anyone had noticed it and those who did had just assumed they had blinked or it was a trick of a light, but he could tell you did.

You started looking around frantically. Cauldron save him he couldn't face you right now. He had no right to even look at you. After the initial shock of learning that you were his mate, the reality of everything that he has done came crashing down on him. Azriel can't deal with himself. The reality of what he has put you through. He pined over Mor for over a century. He almost invoked a Blood Duel over Elain. You were his mate and he had forsaken your bond. Forsaken your bond for another fae's mate. Your friend's mate.

Mother free him from this torment. Everything came crashing into him at once. Reminders of every time that he had ignored you for another female. Reminders of the flash of sadness that would flicker in your gentle gaze every time that Azriel would rain-check your plans for Elain or talk about another female.

The look of disdain that Rhys had on his face the night he found him and Elain. The uncharacteristic cruelty that had been directed towards Azriel. The distance of the inner circle and his own shadows. Everyone had known. Everyone except for him. Did you know? Is that why you left? Why you had been ignoring him for months?

He tries to tug on the bond and he winces. The bond snaps back at him painfully like a rubber band that was held taught and released. Seems like even the bond itself is punishing Azriel. So you didn't know then?

You were still looking around with your senses on high alert and it seems like you weren't the only one that had noticed the blackout. Eris in all his horrendous glory had also been surveying the area and while you looked like started pray that was scanning for predator to jump out of the bushes and attack, Eris was every bit the predator scanning the area ready to pounce.

Azriel locked eyes with Eris. Eris' eyebrows raise, his eyes holding mischief and curiosity, a truly despicable combination. The conniving fox never stops his scheming and with a smirk he puts his hand on your lower back and leans to whisper something in your ear. All while maintaining eye contact with Azriel.

His rational side is long forgotten and he luges for Eris. Pupils dilated, teeth bared, and siphons glowing. Instead of landing on Eris, he landed on a barrier of shadows which drag him through the shadow realm like a parent dragging their misbehaving toddler by the arm into timeout.

The shadows drag him through the shadow realm, struggling to constrain him, and throw him onto the floor of the training ring in the house of wind. Rhysand and Cassian arrive on the scene moments later, amusement coating their features once they see the position that Azriel is in. Cassian bursts into a fit of laughter seeing Azriel shadows trying to hold him in place and watching him fight back against them, while swearing profusely.

Rhys saunters towards Azriel, "Well took you long enough brother. Release him." The shadows immediately release their hold of Azriel. The look he's giving Rhys is filled with so much malice that anyone other than Rhys would have shivered at his gaze.

Rhys is gives Azriel a predatory smile that is anything but friendly. Rhys says, "Now that you officially know I can finally do this", and he punches Azriel in the face. Rhys looks at Azriel while he's on the floor from the hit, "You want to be my brother again. Earn it. "

Azriel's nostrils flare and he comes swinging at Rhys with full force. Cassian is enjoying this a lot more than he should have and the house agrees spawning him popcorn on the table on the outskirts of the training ring. Between Azriel's vicious as a result of a new mating bond and Rhys' pent up anger for hundreds of years of pain you endured this was going to be a very entertaining fight.

There were very few things that brought Eris Vanserra true unadultered joy - his schemes, the suffering of his enemies, and apparently spending time with you. For these few months with you had been the first time he genuinely enjoyed someone's company. He was sad you were leaving, of course, but that was the whole point of your stay, you would process your mating bond and return when you had distanced yourself from it enough that being around Azriel wouldn't break you.

Eris had never wished for a mating bond. He has never been surrounded by happiness, let alone love, only pain, and would never wish that life upon another. To be tethered to Eris is to be tethered to a lifetime of cruelty and a lifetime of pain. He watched his mother suffer every day at the hands of his father, the only true happiness she experienced was in the presence of Eris or Lucien, whom she seldom sees anymore. He watched the love of Lucien's life be sentenced to death by his father.

Eris knows that when he becomes the high lord of Autumn that he will have a target on his back and is one day destined to meet a bloody end. How could he sentence someone to a fate like that? Every Vanserra's is a flame - burns brightly, hurts to the touch, and is destined to go out.

Now Eris does believe in love but he also believes in choice and he has chosen to keep his circle small and tight for as long as he could remember. His walls were impenetrable and he was very guarded, he wore cruelty as a mask and indifference as a cloak with wit being his sword. He had never needed anyone, he only needed himself. That's what he told himself when Lucien had told him he was leaving Autumn for Spring. That's what he told himself when he isolated himself for hundreds of years and that's what he told you when you guys had first met in the Autumn Court library.

You had been about 75 and were in the Autumn Court on a diplomatic visit with Rhys and your father. You had grown bored and decided to sneak off into the Autumn Court library in the middle of the night, unaware that anyone would be there. You had just waltzed in and started grabbing text after text that Eris was actually impressed and had remained silent for two hours until he decided enough was enough and it was time to bother you. You guys argued for hours, matching each other's wit in a way that Eris had never experienced, and he didn't admit it to anyone but he was looking forward to your next visit.

You guys had always corresponded after that. Remaining good friends and regularly sending each other updates, book recommendations, and even jokes. Eris realised that he missed you, a very uncommon feeling for the cold hearted fire wielder and was elated to receive an invite to the Night Court ball. He arrived elated to see you only to find you on the arm of the shadowsinger. He couldn't be upset though, because you ran to him excitedly and embraced him in a hug.

Eris refused to be second to anybody so he gave it up and accepted his role in your life. You value the people in your life greatly and he appreciates your friendship either way but it would be a lie to say it didn't pain him to hear about Azriel for so long.

Azriel had this amazing person pining after him and he couldn't even appreciate you enough to properly give you his attention. How he didn't know you had feelings for him, Eris couldn't figure out. He was the Spymaster of the Night Court and he couldn't even notice how your eyes lit up in his presence.

When you had written Eris in a panic calling in the favor you held over him for securing certain information about Beron, Eris knew it had something to do with that Cauldrons-damned shadowsinger and had left immediately. The minute he was in that room with you and him and the rest of the inner circle, he knew the mating bond had snapped for you and that Azriel was contemplating invoking a blood duel over Elain. A blood duel with his brother. Eris was furious.

Eris is still furious. The shadowsingers stupidity almost got his brother killed and maybe you, he believes you to be formidable, but a broken mating bond has catastrophic effects on fae. It was something he would never wish upon you. Eris would lie to everyone but himself and he knows that he has sent a prayer to the Mother at least once or twice or more times asking for you to be his mate because he knows that while he could never deserve you he would do everything in his power to try to be.

Eris is not a traditionalist by any means, how could he be when his father runs Autumn with an iron fist claiming that the old way is the best way especially when it comes to fae rights, but Eris does believe in the sanctity of a mating bond. If you and Azriel had tried it out and it didn't work then he would be free to make his move, but anytime before then he deems it unacceptable. He also feels the same for Elain and Lucien, which is another reason he didn't respect Azriel.

Eris would never openly sabotage your life like that. The number one thing he wishes for is your happiness and he sends a prayer to the Mother for that a lot more than he would care to admit. That doesn't mean that Eris can't at least mess with Azriel and make his life a living hell for the period before you get together. He did cause you to suffer for so long, it's only fair.

Eris does not consider himself to be a good person. He's selfish and downright evil at times, but he believes the Mother knows him at his soul and that one day when he is freed from the confines of his father the Mother will allow him to find happiness in either this life or the next. While he doesn't need a mating bond, he is tired and exhausted from being so lonely all the time. When everyone sees you as a villian, it's so hard to not become one and Eris is ready for some change.

But today was not the day for changing for the better. Which is what Eris tells himself as he meets Azriel's gaze in the Gardens of Velaris. Based on the dilated pupils and the overall feral look of the shadowsinger, Eris assumes that the mating bond has just snapped for him. Oh goody. This would be a real treat for Eris. A bit of payback if you will.

Eris raises a brow and maintains eye contact with the shadowsinger as he gets close to you and puts a hand on your lower back. He gives some sort of witty retort and you laugh. He continues to look at Azriel while all of this is happening, just to add to the torment. He sees Azriel lunge and then disappear in a cloud of shadow. Well looks like his shadows took care of that. He'll be back eventually and then Eris can do the same thing again.

Eris has already made peace with the fact that you were not his, but he had to make sure you had the best in his absence and if you were destined to be with this male Eris had to at least test him first. Consider it a hazing ritual or reparations for the way he treated you. Either way Azriel was going to make sure this male suffered until he shapes up and became the perfect mate because you deserve nothing less and if Azriel fails to do that then Eris would have no problem sweeping the rug from under him in his own Court.

Eris loves a challenge and he has grown very bored lately. He let Lucien in on this plan and Lucien had actually spoken about wanting to give Elain the opportunity to get to know him, now that Azriel's out of the picture, so the timing was working anyways. Worst case scenario the Night Court is in shambles which would sit back and enjoy anyways. Best case scenario you leave back with him to Autumn and never step foot in this court ever again and leave the shadowsinger forever. Either way he gets to spend time with you and torment Azriel.

He thinks Rhys agreed to this arrangement just because he also wants Azriel to suffer a little bit, after everything he's done.

Eris looks at you again, snapping you out of your search for Azriel. he goes, "I have a surprise for you." You look up at him, focusing on what he's saying, but still being half distracted by the idea of Azriel being near.

"You were saying how much you were going to miss me due to you leaving of Autumn and I have business in the Night Court, so guess who is going to be staying here for the foreseeable future?" Eris says all of this with the smug grin you have been accustomed to seeing him don.

Your face lights up and he continues. "Lulu is also going to be tagging along because he adores his charming older brother so much-" You roll your eyes at him. "Lucien did not say that."

Eris cuts you off by throwing his arm over your shoulder and leads you through the arches of the garden into the ball. "But he will once he sees the havoc we are going to wreak in Night." Eris gives you a mischievous grin and for once you actually give one back as you take your official steps back into your life in the Night Court.

part vii

note: This chapter was actually meant to be twice as long and this was the first part but I am about to get busy so I wont be writing for the next week or so and I wanted to get something out before I fall of the grid. I will be answering to asks though I do love receiving them and hearing what you guys think I just won't have that much time to write. The style of this chapter is a lot different from the rest so I do want to know what you guys think. I didn't think it was a good idea for the reader and Azriel to interact immediately after the bond snapped for him, he was just in such a high alert state that I don't think it would be a good idea until he's at least calm again(I know Rhys has been holding in that punch for hundreds of years). Until next time my lovelies!

note note: again pls ignore the lack of editing and the sleep deperivated state I wrote this in :)

taglist: @alimarie1105@chaosabroad@bbontenswhhore@tele86@ashblooddragons@circe143@i-am-infinite@princesssunderworld@thestartitaness@tiffany-xx@cpfantasybooks @lucia-valentinaa@jennigsonl@ivy-34@firefly-forest@k-homosapien@coeurdeveea@cherryjain17@bckynatt@becstersworld@rcarbo1@gojospearlycim@atluky@juliebluehufflepuff@willowpains@abadfantasybook@neverendingstay@hellohauntedturnstudent@highladyofhogwarts@littowl@iluvyewman-blog@lunaticpotatoe @justlivinginadaydream @julesiebean @shylahstarzz @olive-main @lreadsstuff

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illyrianbitch · 2 months ago

Text

A Grave Misfortune

Pairing: Reader x Eris Vanserra

Summary: When your affair with Eris is discovered, you find yourselves burying a body and sealing the grave with a bargain —keep quiet, never speak of it again. But not all secrets lie still when you put them to rest.

Warnings: SMUT, adultery, morally questionable eris and reader, graphic depictions of violence and injury (but its kinda funny if you tilt your head), post-orgasm manslaughter/accidental murder, partners in crime, blackmail, and a bargain :D

Word Count: 5.6k

omg....new series...my passion project...

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“F-fuck.”

It was half a gasp, half a moan, slipping from your lips before Eris’s hand covered them.

“Shh.” His breath ghosted over your ear, cruel and gentle in the same measure. “You’ll get us caught.”

His other hand slid higher beneath your skirts, gathering fabric in careless fistfuls as he fucked into you— the metal of his rings pressing into your warm skin. It was always like this—dirty, hurried, the barest undoing of his breeches just enough for him to slide inside you.

The air in the small, dimly lit servant's closet was laced with the smell of dust and sex, the walls closing in around you as Eris’s teeth scraped against your throat. You knew he liked it like this—the power, the filth, the risk. The control.

Eris enjoyed that. Enjoyed you because of it.

"Or should I let them hear?" His lips brushed the shell of your ear as he gound deeper.

You whimpered and he swallowed the sound, chuckling low in his throat as he brought you into a kiss. All teeth and tongue, brazen and dirty.

Somewhere, on the other side of the house, Dane was sitting with the other males at the event—polite, oblivious. He was probably wondering where his sweet wife had disappeared to, wondering when you’d be back. This time, you’d told him it was a stomach ache. It wasn’t entirely a lie. You did, indeed, have an ache—only it wasn’t pain, not really. More like a desperation, a need that had been stirring since Eris’s eyes tracked you across the room from the moment he spotted you.

Eris’s hips snapped harder, finding that perfect angle—the one that made you clench around him and grind your teeth to keep from crying out.

“That’s it,” he breathed, looking down between your bodies. His pace stuttered for half a second, like the sight alone was enough to break his composure. “Gods, you take me so beautifully, don’t you?”

You couldn’t answer—not with the heat fogging your senses, not with the way he was fucking you like he wanted to break you open. His brows lifted, a flicker of smug amusement flashing in his amber eyes.

“Nothing to say?” His hands tightened on your hips, pulling back just enough to make you feel the loss—barely there, not far enough to let you escape. “That’s rude.”

You glared at him through the haze. “What the hell?”

“I asked you a question.” He punctuated the words with a sharp little thrust, smirking when your breath caught. “It’s rude not to answer.”

You rolled your eyes. His fingers pinched at your waist in reprimand—just hard enough to sting.

“If you wanted polite,” you panted, dragging him closer by the lapels of his coat, “you should’ve gone for Taryn’s wife.”

Eris’s smirk curved slow and wicked. He drove into you and you couldn’t stop the sharp gasp that left your lips. He chuckled, clearly satisfied, and the sound vibrated through your chest as he pushed himself against you.

"Ooh," he purred. "But she doesn't have a cunt that feels this good."

Your body betrayed you—clenching tight around him, slick and desperate. He noticed, of course, he always did, and his grin only grew smugger as he locked his hands under your ass. Your legs wrapped around him instantly, body lifting off the floor as the strength of his arms held you.

He fucked you harder then, chasing the heat coiling low in both of you. The small room filled with the obscene sound of skin meeting skin.

“Just– shut up and keep going," you moaned, nearly clawing at his skull, fingers digging into his hair. "Gods, you’re infuriating."

Eris groaned as you writhed against him, hips snapping into yours again and again and again.

“Beg for it, then,” he said, his teeth grazing the tender skin of your neck. “Maybe I’ll let you finish.”

“With a cunt that feels this good?” Your voice was barely more than a ragged whisper. “Maybe you should be begging.”

The growl that tore from his throat was pure animal. His hips snapped forward, the force of it knocking your head back against the wall. The bite he sank into your neck was a mistake—you both knew it. No evidence. No marks.

“Oh, c’mon,” Eris purred, licking over the imprint of his teeth. “It’s just you and me. No need to keep up appearances.”

“Stop talking,” you gasped, nails scoring into his scalp. You were close— so fucking close. And you needed him to shut up. Him and that sinfully rough voice. You fought the overwhelming urge to do exactly what he wished: beg him to keep going.

“I know what you need,” he whispered, smug and syrup-slow. “And I’ll give it to you. I always do, huh?”

You couldn't answer—only clutch him harder, the coil inside you winding tighter.

"And they call me uncaring," he mocked, fucking into you harder.

"Do you just enjoy the sound of your own voice?"

He chuckled. “Almost as much as these glorious sounds of yours.”

Infuriating, arrogant, insufferab-

"Oh, fuck." Your body trembled as your cunt fluttered around him, dragging a broken groan from his chest. "F-fine," you panted. "Stop talking. Please. You feel amazing. Just fuck me."

His smirk widened, victorious. He slowed his pace, savoring the control, before he growled low in his throat. “Now, was that so hard?”

And just as the last word left his lips, he drove into you—again and again—until you shattered around him, your release crashing over you in hot, silent waves. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, choking back the scream building in your throat. Eris followed a heartbeat later, groaning low as he spilled inside you, his rhythm stuttering before he slumped against you, his forehead falling into the crook of your neck.

Your body sagged against the wall, sliding down slightly as both you and Eris lost the strength to keep yourselves upright. You let yourself float—limbs heavy, mind half-lost—following the spidery veins in the ceiling as you titled your head back. You hadn’t noticed them before. The closet had been too dark, barely lit by the flame Eris had conjured to find his bearings.

It shouldn’t have been this bright.

Your brow knit faintly, lips parting to pull in another breath. Then—

The feeling.

That awful, creeping sensation—the weight of something watching.

Your gaze dragged downward, over Eris’s shoulder, past the wild tangle of his hair.

The door was open.

And there was someone there.

Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in deep emerald silk.

He had pale green eyes, a neatly trimmed beard, and shaggy dark blonde hair that didn’t seem to quite obey him. A gold signet glinted on his ring finger—the same Dane wore as a mark of his station in the Autumn Court's forces, ingrained with the royal symbol of the Court. Specifically, the noble ranks beneath Eris's command.

You recognized him. Some minor soldier whose name you'd never bothered to learn. He lingered on the edges of court gatherings, always circling, always watching—like a dog waiting for scraps.

He blinked once, gaze sweeping over your position. Your tangled limbs. The flush blooming down your neck.

Then, a slow, pleased curl of his lips, as if this scene—this dirty secret—delighted him.

Not shock, not disgust. Amusement.

You panicked, realizing it, even as you knew you were screwed. He was going to tell. Going to ruin you.

You shoved at Eris, scrambling to fix your dress before you ran after the male.

“Wait,” you called, voice hoarse, lying as you added, “It’s not what you think.”

The slick between your thighs—sticky and unaddressed—mocked you with every step, the purest and damning evidence of everything you were about to insist hadn't happened. You clenched your legs tighter, as if that could make it disappear. As if he couldn't smell it.

The corridor was narrow and stale, lined with wooden tables, old hunting trophies, and moth-eaten tapestries. You could’ve sworn it had been smaller before—just a few quick strides when Eris led you down it, his palm pressing low on your spine.

Now, it stretched endlessly.

Ahead, the male’s emerald-clad shoulder rounded the corner.

“Wait—damn it—just listen to me.”

Within a few more panicked strides, your hand finally snatched at his sleeve. He wrenched free, spinning to face you with a force that knocked your balance.

“I wonder what your husband will think,” he mused, and the smugness made your blood curdle.

“You didn’t see anything,” you tried again, lowering your voice. Gods, you wished you remembered his name, cared enough to try. Surely Dane had mentioned it a few times. If only you cared enough about him to listen. “I can pay you—”

The male before you scoffed. “Whoring and bribery? What a charming little wife you are.”

“What do you want?” The words tasted like ash. They scraped from your throat—raw, desperate. “Anything.”

“Anything?” His mouth twisted. “A harlot’s price, then?”

You swallowed hard, shame crawling under your skin. The kind of shame that made you feel hollowed out, skin too tight over brittle bones. But it disappeared quickly, morphing into a feeling you knew much better: anger.

"Beron must be told, too, of course. Can you imagine his delight?" He whistled, a grin forming on his lips. "I was just thinking I could use a bit more favor."

Your heart pounded so hard you thought you might be sick.

“I’ll give you whatever you want.” The words sliced as they left your mouth. They sounded so much like a plea—too much like begging. You hated it.

The male leaned in, close enough for you to smell the wine on his breath. "Anything?"

He let the word stretch—dragging the syllables out like something viscous. Like honey dripping slow from the comb.

"I think," he murmured, fingers brushing the hair from your cheek in a mockery of tenderness, "I'll let them see for themselves. Smell it, too. How poetic—like cattle branded before a slaughter."

You slapped his hand away. He caught your wrist in return—rough, restricting—and yanked you forward. Panic licked up your spine. He was stronger than you. A male born and bred for war. You thrashed, your heart rattling against your ribs.

Where was Eris?

Would he let you die for this?

Of course he would. Eris didn’t care for you.

Hung, burned, beheaded. It wouldn’t matter.

The thought made you claw harder. Eris could cheat his way out of death if he wished—fireborn and silver-tongued. You could not. You'd be made an example of.

"Let me go," you hissed, twisting. His fingers dug deeper.

"I think not."

You lunged, fumbling for anything—your elbow catching his ribs, your nails raking his cheek. The fight tipped sideways. His grip slipped—only for him to shove you against the wall, hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. Your skull thudded against an ancient hunting trophy mounted there—some long-dead animal’s curling horns. The table beside you clattered with the force.

"Anything you want," you said again.

“You just gave me everything I want.” He leaned in close. You could smell him—leather and sweat and old wine. “Such fire,” he mused, “You were wasted on Dane. Is that why you were so desperate for the princeling?”

He wasn’t wrong. It angered you more. You lurched, clawing at his face—nails scraping along his jaw. He caught your wrist again, pinning it against the wall.

“Get off—”

He shifted, angling to reach for something—a knife, maybe, at his belt. Something to scare you into obedience. You thrashed, wild, barely noticing the way the walls seemed to close in. How much smaller the corridor felt now. How the air hung thicker.

Your free hand fumbled blindly, searching—until your fingers closed around something cold. Heavy.

The curved handle of an old candlestick.

You swung it without thinking, the brass base crunching against his temple. He staggered, hissing—but not enough. He was too close, still between you and freedom. His lip curled as he reached for you again.

You hit him again. Harder.

Something wet and pink burst from his split brow. His knees buckled. His weight pitched forward, slamming you both against the wall—right beneath the mounted trophy once more.

For a sickening second, you thought he was about to recover. He let out a low, gurgling snarl, shoving back upright—

And then the old, rattling mount gave way.

The beast’s curved antlers plunged down from the wall, and by the grace of the Mother, missed you entirely as they struck straight through his chest— sharp, heavy points driving through bone and flesh.

The sound he made was wet, awful—thin little gasps squeezing around the obstruction, like he was trying to breathe through a mouthful of water. His hands twitched, blindly pawing at the points of bone piercing through him. Little useless slaps, like a drowning man trying to fight the tide.

You couldn't look away.

He twitched again. Another weak, gasp.

You watched still. Watched as his eyes glazed over.

His knees gave out just as the candlestick fell from your grasp, both falling onto the carpet with a thud.

You didn’t move. You didn’t breathe. Not until you heard a soft sound behind you. A sigh.

You turned, dazed, to find Eris adjusting his breeches, smoothing a hand through his hair as if he’s just stepped out of a business meeting rather than a scandalous fuck followed by an accidental murder.

He tilted his head and surveyed the scene before him.

"Well," he said, after a long moment. "That’s inconvenient."

You stared at him, mouth still agape, eyes still wide. Eris hummed, almost thoughtful, then turned and began walking.

You blinked. "Where are you going?"

“To get a different jacket."

Your mouth opened. Closed. You should’ve said something, should have reacted, but your mind was empty, wiped clean by shock.

Eris didn’t even look at you, just smoothed a hand down his clothes. "If we’re going to bury a body, it’s a little nippy outside." He paused, tapping his fingers against his chin, before snapping them lightly. "You should probably get to finding a shovel."

Your hands were still shaking as your gaze fell back upon the body at your feet.

The blood was still there, the body as well, but it was wrong now, blurred at the edges, folded into the world in a way that made it vanish to everyone else. A glamour.

Eris’s voice drifted lazily down the hall:

"Stop staring. The dead aren’t known for their patience."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The grave didn’t dig itself.

You drove the shovel into the frozen earth, the metal scraping uselessly against the stale ground. Again. And again. It didn’t get any easier. The dirt resisted you, every attempt sending a dull, aching vibration up your arms.

Behind you, Eris sighed. Loudly.

“At that rate,” he mused, “we’ll be here until this court becomes winter.”

Your grip tightened on the shovel. You didn’t look at him. “It’d go faster if you helped.”

Eris hummed, as if weighing that possibility. “It would’ve gone a lot better if you didn’t kill someone.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to stay quiet. If you said what you were thinking, you might've had to bury him next.

The silence between you thickened with frost. You kept digging.

Eris, for his part, didn’t help. Instead, he crouched beside the body, tilting his head slightly, like he admired a sculpture rather than a corpse swaddled in dark velvet. Then, with the careless ease of someone inspecting an expensive cloak, he lifted the edge of the fabric. Peered inside.

Then sighed. Again. “Shame. One of my favorite rugs.”

You stared at him.

He flicked his gaze up. “What?”

Your lips parted. You searched for a response—one that could possibly encompass the depth of the feelings you were currently experiencing.

None came to mind.

Eris only shrugged and let the fabric fall back over the body, as if that somehow fixed the situation. He straightened and took a long, considering look at the half-dug grave, then sighed for the third time, this time like he was doing you a favor.

“I suppose we could burn him,” he said, almost to himself.

You exhaled sharply. “Then why the hell am I digging?”

Eris arched a brow. “Because magic lingers,” he said, patient in the way a teacher is patient with a particularly dense student. “If I incinerate him, it will leave a mark—one my father would notice. And I’d rather not explain why my magic is tangled up in a murder.”

You dropped the shovel with a dull thud, flexing your fingers. “You should be helping. Not antagonizing me with solutions that aren’t even viable.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“This is your problem.” He stretched, flexing his fingers in the cold air just as you had done. “And now that I think about it, I believe I will get going.”

“No, you can’t. You need to help me.”

He just looked at you. Unmoved. “I don’t need to do anything.”

“You have to.”

“Why?” he repeated, amused now.

“Because—”

Eris smirked. Tilted his head. “Because I fucked you?”

You stiffened.

He clicked his tongue, clearly enjoying himself. “And now I owe you some sense of loyalty? Is that it?” He took a lazy step closer. “Did you think what we had meant something?”

You didn’t. You were glad it meant nothing.

You never tried to fool yourself into believing Eris Vanserra was a good male. You never tried to fool yourself into thinking you were a good fae, either. That’s what made the affair so easy. So nice. You could both be selfish without guilt, take what you wanted without pretending you wanted anything more.

But now, as you stood in the middle of a dark, frozen forest, with a body cooling at your feet and no one but Eris beside you—

You realized, without the distraction of pleasure, how much you disliked him.

Something inside you bristled at that.

Not just at him, at yourself. Because you were in this mess because of him. Because you let yourself get into this mess, knowing exactly the kind of male he was.

And now, here you were. Excused from your marital bed on the pretense of a stomache. Another lie stacked atop the others. Dane was likely asleep by now, none the wiser. He never was.

“You have to help,” you said once more.

Eris didn’t move. His expression didn’t shift. But something flickered behind his gaze.

“Why?” he asked again, voice lower now.

You took a deep breath, analyzing him with a careful eye. Eris Vanserra was a creature of hunger—of sharp edges hidden beneath silk, waiting for the next thing to devour. He could make you feel like prey without ever laying a hand on you.

If you were going to be damned for fucking him, you wouldn’t go down quietly. You wouldn’t let him consume you without leaving your mark—without sinking your teeth into him and tasting his blood in return.

You stepped closer. “Because if I’m going down, I’m dragging you with me.”

That got a reaction.

Eris stilled, his expression sharpening. Then—unexpectedly—his lips twitched. Not a smirk this time. Something quieter. Almost impressed.

“You’re blackmailing me,” he said, more observation than question.

“Yes.”

Another silence. Then, slowly, Eris smiled. “It will be out little secret, then.”

A secret. As if that would be enough. As if a secret could bind someone like him—a male who could cheat death itself, who could find his way out of promises the way most people slipped out of clothing. He’d done worse things for people who mattered more, had hunted his own family for sport—or so you’d heard.

It was sobering to consider all the things he'd done that hadn't mattered enough to you to stop you from bedding him, from chasing your own release. Perhaps there were countless bodies before the one that lay cold a few feet away from you—perhaps that was why Eris was so oddly composed. Not because he was heartless—although some might argue, and you might’ve been inclined to listen despite hearing his heartbeat against yours as he came inside you—but because he had done this before. What was murder to a High Lord’s heir? A sport, maybe. A skill.

And none of that had mattered to you. None of those possible lives meant enough.

You were not a good fae. You were not good or righteous.

Which made it easier to tell him, with no hesitation, “A secret isn’t enough.”

His amusement deepened. “No?”

You lifted your left hand. Cleaner. Less covered in dirt and grime.

“A bargain.”

Eris looked at your hand. Then at you. Then, finally, he clasped it in his. His hands were warm—always had been. You’d noticed it the first time he touched you. He could strip you bare with those hands, tear you apart without ever igniting a flame.

A fireborn Vanserra, through and through. You’d always wondered how that fire worked, if there was some flicker of flame lurking beneath skin and bone.

The heat spread through your fingers, curling into your palm, winding up your arm until a brush of magic settled, strange and unseen.

You’d never made a bargain before. It felt oddly intimate, like two threads wrapping around one another and pulling tight. Eris Vanserra came with a lot of firsts, it seemed. Your first affair. Your first murder. A bargain on top like a neatly wrapped bow on a life-changing present.

You started to pull your hand back—but Eris’s fingers shifted. A fleeting brush along your ring finger. The ghost of a touch against your gold wedding band.

Your stomach curled.

Before you could think too hard about it, he tugged you forward and kissed you.

The kiss was rough. More animal than male. Teeth and heat and the faint taste of smoke— he tasted like that, sometimes, when he was exceptionally passionate. The heat of him melted the night frost straight off your skin.

It should’ve been horrible—kissing him here, with the scent of death still clinging to the air, with a body half-buried between you. But you kissed him back. It was much more fun than thinking about what you had done.

He pulled away with a grin, thumb dragging along your lower lip—just barely brushing the blood there. His expression shifted, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Did he hurt you?”

You blinked, caught off guard.

It took a moment to remember where the taste of blood in your mouth had come from—not from the dead male, but from your own teeth, biting into your lip at your climax.

Your face heated. You hated yourself for it. “That was my doing.”

For a heartbeat, Eris’s thumb stayed where it was, pressed against your mouth. Then—slowly—he grinned. Relaxed. He seemed proud as the realization settled into him, turning away and back toward the grave.

The earth groaned. Just slightly. A few inches of dirt disappeared before you, no more. Barely helpful—barely anything at all.

You turned to him, incredulous.

Eris held up a finger, not even looking at you. “Magic lingers, remember.” His smirk flicked wider. “Only small amounts for now.”

Your mouth opened to argue—

“Do not tempt me,” he cut in smoothly. “I will fill it back up and make you start over.”

You snapped your mouth shut.

Eris grinned. Then stretched—luxuriously, like he was enjoying himself far too much—and walked back toward the corpse.

You went back to digging.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Eris supposed he’d go on a hunt later.

Not for any real reason—just the idle thought that it had been a while since he’d taken the hounds out properly. Fresh meat always tasted better than the market’s offerings, and the mindless rhythm of tracking, waiting, and killing had its own kind of satisfaction. Maybe he’d take them out near the eastern woods, where the deer were fat this time of year.

It was hotter than usual today. He could feel it in the way the air settled in the halls—thick and still, pressing against his skin. His jacket, despite being tailored perfectly to him, suddenly felt constricting. He glanced down and noticed a single loose thread near the cuff, barely noticeable, but there all the same.

He was almost tempted to convince himself it was going to be a bad day.

But then he stepped into the council chamber, and none of it mattered anymore.

The second he crossed the threshold, he was sharp. Focused. The weight of the room settled over him like a second skin—one he had long since learned to wear without discomfort. Beron was already speaking, his voice edged with irritation. Another dispute between the lesser lords. Something about trade routes or taxes or whatever other petty squabble they’d dredged up this time.

Eris took his seat, adjusting his cuffs as though he were hearing it all for the first time. He’d known about this all before, of course. He made sure he knew everything that happened in his court.

His court.

He glanced around the table, gaze sliding over familiar faces. When it landed on Dane, he lingered. The male was listening intently, his posture rigid—always the good soldier. But Eris was staring too hard, and Dane, like any good soldier would, took notice. He turned slightly, meeting Eris’s gaze—blue eyes locking with burnished amber. And then Dane dipped his head. In acknowledgement. In respect.

Eris should’ve felt guilt.

But there was nothing there, just a strange emptiness.

You had been his affair, his mess.

But Dane? He was his soldier. Loyal to a fault. Not to him—not to Beron either—but to Autumn. Eris respected that.

Apparently not enough to keep himself from bedding his wife.

He hadn’t seen you in a week. Not that he had really been counting, but he liked to keep his life in meticulous order. It helped him to know when things fell out of place.

It was for the better, Eris told himself. As beneficial as a murder could be. The affair had been destined to bring him more trouble than it was worth. The blackmail, the threat of exposure—it was inevitable. He'd known it even as he had taken the risks. The whole thing had been nothing more than a reckless indulgence, a brief spark in an otherwise tedious life.

And yet, there was a flicker of discomfort in the back of his mind. Guilt? No. Not really. But discomfort, yes. Concerns.

His thoughts drifted back to that night—to the way Harlan had looked, slumped against the floor like something discarded. Eris had recognized him within seconds—Harlan wasn't entirely memorable, but Eris made a point to know every male that could have the ability, or the misplaced arrogance, to kill him.

Eris liked that type of order. He was, after all, a collector at heart. Just like his mother. Of different things, of course. Of people. Of secrets. Of potential enemies and betrayals to anticipate.

He was almost tempted to say that dying was the most interesting thing Harlan could’ve done—that the mounted animal trophy actually offered some more... embellishment to his appearance.

Maybe Eris would take a hunt out to the eastern woods after all. If he found something good enough, he could have a replacement trophy commissioned. Just similar enough to replace the one that had impaled Harlan like a roasted chicken dinner.

Not that he thought Beron ever went into the corridors where the court’s help stayed. But just in case.

His father had a way of doing things like that—doing things that inconvenienced him. Like a talent, the only one he had, truly, besides outward cruelty and a strange knack for making someone love the taste of violence.

Eris hated the idea of macabre trophies, didn’t find any thrill in staring at the animals he hunted. He did it for a purpose—for the hounds, for good hide and fur to make coats for himself, for his mother. Perhaps his brothers if he was feeling unusually charitable. Rare, though. Rarely did he indulge in kindness.

It would be a hassle, too, to find someone to taxidermy it quickly. You were going to cost him another afternoon—at least this time it wouldn’t be next to a poorly dug grave.

He admired your nerve. Blackmail was such a dirty little word. He preferred to think of it as mutual interest. Besides, it wasn’t as if he’d been particularly fond of the male you’d killed.

He was only upset about the rug.

“Harlan has not responded to our summons.”

Eris’s head tilted slightly, the perfect picture of idle curiosity. Another commander spoke—something about Harlan leaving his estate abruptly, disappearing without a word. Eris hummed, fingers smoothing down the sleeve of his jacket.

“How concerning,” he murmured. “I suppose it is unlike him.”

Beron’s gaze snapped to him, sharp as a blade.

Eris met it without hesitation, letting the silence stretch.

“Do you think the rumors are true?” he added lazily. Rumors Eris had perfectly crafted. He was quite proud of the ones he’d chosen this time around.

And then the doors creaked open.

Eris turned his head.

Harlan stepped inside as if nothing was amiss, straightening his coat with a casual tug.

He was paler than he should have been. His posture just a touch too careful. But more than anything, it was the way he moved—like something testing the limits of its own skin—that made Eris’s fingers twitch.

“Apologies for my delay,” Harlan said smoothly. His gaze swept over the room, then landed—pointedly, intentionally—on Eris. “I was… indisposed.”

Eris didn’t blink.

Well.

If Harlan's death was a mere inconvenience, his apparent resurrection was a... problem. Unfortunate.

Eris thought that maybe there was a lesson here for him to learn. He hated riddles—only enjoyed a curious, deceptive tongue when it was his. Eris wasn’t sure if he believed in fate, or karma, but he did believe in one thing: finishing the job right.

Harlan couldn't be here, alive.

Eris didn’t care how it happened. He would learn, store the information, and show Harlan why dead things tend to stay dead—at least, the ones that Eris made sure of.

But he couldn't kill him, not in front of all these people. And now he was distracted, in an important meeting, no less. He could’ve wrung Harlan's neck for that annoyance alone—all resurrection facets aside.

Harlan took a seat. Next to him. He leaned in slightly, voice low.

“Is everything alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Eris wasn’t sure he’d ever heard him speak—or maybe he’d just never bothered to listen. He hummed. “Do I?”

“Yes. A bit rattled?”

“I don’t get rattled.”

Harlan’s mouth curved, something almost like amusement flickering behind his too-bright eyes. They had always been a rather dull green. Maybe death brought some life with it, somehow. Collected solely in his irises. “No?”

“No,” Eris replied.

A beat. Then—

“I must've slept like the dead last night,” Harlan murmured. “I struggled to claw my way out of bed.”

Eris’s jaw tensed. “Sounds like a healer’s problem.”

“Perhaps.”

Eris glanced down at Harlan’s hand—at the small specks of dirt clinging to it. In strange places. None under the fingernails, where he would have presumed residue to be. They were clean, in fact—uncomfortably so.

He raised an unimpressed brow. “Picked up gardening, I see.”

Harlan chuckled low. “I took the scenic route—couldn’t resist a little time in the woods. Funny, the things the earth spits back out this time of year.”

Eris didn’t look at him. “Measly worms and once-bloodied bones? All meaningless things, ready to return back into the dirt where they belong.”

Harlan smiled.

“Sometimes the dirt refuses to keep what it's given.”

Eris’s fingers curled once against the wood and the meeting began.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You didn’t believe in gods.

Not the way others did. You didn't pray to them, didn't ask for guidance or mercy. It seemed a waste—to beg to something that had no interest in listening. If they existed at all, they'd only ever laughed at you. Or maybe this—this—wasn't a laugh at all. Maybe it was a lesson. A quiet correction meant to make you better, make you regret, make you want to be good.

If that was the case, it had failed spectacularly.

You were cold, and annoyed, and hungry. You had no plans to be good—no desire, either. If the gods wanted you to fall to your knees, they'd have to break them first.

A twig snapped behind you.

Footsteps—slow, unhurried, elegant, even. You didn't have to look to know who they belonged to.

"We have a problem."

Eris’s voice was calm. Unbothered, almost—like he'd merely come to check on a minor inconvenience. The breeze stirred through the trees, cool against your face.

You glanced at him from over your shoulder. "You think?"

He stopped next to you, going stiff as his gaze fell on the scene before you.

The loose dirt at your feet hadn't been disturbed—not by roots, not by rain. The earth had simply opened itself back up, as if whatever had been placed inside it had decided it didn't belong there.

You stared at the gaping mouth of the grave.

If gods were real, they weren't laughing now.

No. They were watching.

Waiting to see what you'd do.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

authors note: chat... what do we think :D this was the most fun ive had writing in a while....i wonder.... if you guys fw this as much as me. aka lmk what you think (desperate need of some excitement hehe) and if you'd like to be on a taglist <3

also... i loved making the lil header. so cutsey. we love partners in crime to lovers!

permanent tag list 🫶🏻:

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon @glam-targaryen

@cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg @evergreenlark

@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@feyretopia @ninthcircleofprythian @azrielrot @justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli

@mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

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#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris x reader smut #eris vanserra x reader smut #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris #eris acotar #eris angst #eris fic #eris fanfic #eris vanserra fanfic #acotar fanfiction #autumn court

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sirenpearldust · 2 months ago

Text

Found You 3

Baby Daddy Azriel!

Series masterlist ⋆ Part two ⋆ Part four

Pair: Azriel x Spring Court! Reader

Word count: 4.369

Warning: violence, domestic abuse

Summary: Chaos enters Spring

The clock was ticking and your eyes were on it. He was late - again.

You and Amias had been waiting for Azriel, he should have arrived hours ago. It was already ten past twelve.

“Mama, is Daddy coming?”

“Yes, darling. He is probably just busy for a bit longer.”

Azriel’s visits had been irregular over the past few weeks. Sometimes, he sent letters explaining that work was keeping him away.

Nine days had passed since Amias had last seen him.

You could see the sadness in his eyes. He tried to hide it, but you saw the unshed tear.

His toys laid forgotten around him, his small wings were drooping on the floor and his shadows curled around him, just like Azriel’s always did.

He could barely sleep the night before, too excited about training with his father and spending time with him. At dawn, he had woken you up just to gush about how cool his father was- how tall, how strong.

You had smiled, glad that Azriel had been a good father since getting to know Amias. But still, you remained cautious. The irregular visits were starting to wear on you.

Where is he?

He could have at least sent a letter?!

A knock echoed at the door.

“Come in,” you said, hoping, for your son’s sake, that it was news of his father.

Instead, a servant stepped inside, bowing slightly.

“My lady, the Autumn Court heir has arrived and requests an audience. He says it is of utmost importance.”

You exhaled sharply.

What now?

Nodding, you rose to your feet, silently praying this had nothing to do with Azriel’s disappearance.

“Nara, take care of Amias,” you instructed.

But before you could take a step, Amias stood up, his small frame trembling. Tears spilled down his red cheeks as he ran to you, clinging tightly to your leg.

“Mommy,” he whimpered.

“Baby, it’s okay. I promise I’m coming back,” you whispered, running a gentle hand through his dark curls.

But he only sobbed harder, his little hands gripping your blue dress with all the strength he had.

“D-Dont… please. Daddy is already gone… please don’t leave too,” he hiccuped, his voice breaking, as he sobbed louder.

Your heart burned. Kneeling down, you cupped his tear-streaked face.

“Amias, listen to me. Mommy is just going to talk to Uncle Eris and see if he knows something about Daddy, okay? I won’t gone long.”

He kept crying, though and guilt sank deep into your chest. This was your fault. You should have been more attentive, should have reassured him more, should have…

You swallowed hard. Now he thinks you’ll disappear too and that also because you were busy with work.

Something tugged at you, an uneasy feeling.

“Nara, please take care of him,” you said, forcing yourself to step back.

She gently tried prying him from your arms, but he would not let go.

“No, mommy p-please d-don’t”

His hand stretched out to you as he tried getting out of her arms.

You were sick seeing your son like this. Anger burned beneath your skin, you were angry at your self, at Azriel, at life and your duties.

You turned on your heel with a heavy heart, storming toward the room where Eris was waiting, your patience long gone.

⋆ ♡ ⋆

Stepping into the room, you froze, stunned by what you saw.

What in the abomination is this?

Your jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as you glared at Eris.

“I left my son alone for this?” you bit out, tilting your head toward the older Archeron sister standing beside him. Her head was ducked down and you could only see the mop of light brown hair she shared with her younger sister. It fell in a messy low bun. The resemblance between them was striking.

“Let me explain,” Eris said quickly, positioning himself between the both of you.

“You have five minutes. Do you understand?” Your voice was sharp, edged with barely restrained fury.

Turning you glared at Nesta Archeron, adding, “And you’d better not cause trouble in my court, like your sister”

Without waiting for a response, you turned. Eris followed you to your office, a space where no one could overhear or interrupt.

The moment the door shut behind you, you crossed your arms.

“Talk.”

“She needs to stay here, she can’t stay anywhere else,” Eris said, his tone clipped.

You arched a brow, then let out a sharp laugh, slow-clapping your hands.

“Are you serious, Eris?” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

“Having an Archeron in Spring started this whole mess in the first place.”

“It’s different this time,” he said, but you only laughed bitterly.

Walking toward him, you raised your voice, pointing your finger sharply at his chest, pushing him back. His jaw clenched, a muscle in his cheek twitching, he hated when you did that.

“She’s mated to the Night Court’s general, for gods’ sake. Have you lost your mind. Hiding her here, kidnapping her, will bring war to both our doorsteps. I have Amias to think about for Gods sake.”

“I know but I swear, it’s not the same,” Eris insisted.

“It is.” Your voice sharpened.

“Have you forgotten what happened the last time? When the night court whore, her sister might I add, was here?”

Eris hesitated. “That’s… different.”

“How the fuck is this different?” Your brow furrowed.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his disheveled red hair.

“Because Rhysand wants her dead.”

Your confusion deepened. “What? What do you mean he wants her dead? She’s his mates sister?”

“I know. It’s just things have been happening,” Eris muttered, his frustration evident. He licked his lips before sinking into a chair. For the first time, you truly looked at him, his usually pristine clothes were wrinkled, his hair an unkempt mess.

“What the hell is going on?” you demanded.

He sighed. “We’ve been exchanging letters for a while. And that brute she’s mated to-let’s just say he hasn’t been kind to her.”

Your stomach twisted. “Be specific, Eris. I’m going to live with her, I need to know how I’m gonna take care of her.”

You meant your words, your mother had been through abuse in her first marriage, before she met your father.

His amber eyes met yours, filled with something between anger and sadness.

“They’ve kept her locked in that house, forced her to work with him, train against her will, to endure his verbal abuse.”

You exhaled sharply. “Eris, if your feelings are involved he could challenge you to a blood duel, and what if she changes her mind and wants to go back?”

“She doesn’t want to go back, he’s been cruel, they’ve been cruel. He wants children, he tried impregnating her, guilting her into not drinking the potion. She was miserable there.

She left them a goodbye letter saying she fled to the Continent and found a man while working. No one knows she’s here. No one knows I’m involved. She covered her tracks. Lucien is taking care of the rest.”

You leaned against your desk, rubbing your temples.

“She won’t be safe in Spring if they find out.”

“Then hide her in your manor, just until I figure something out.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You mean until you figure out how to deal with your father which, might I add, Night is supposed to be helping you with.”

Your voice dropped into a harsh whisper.

“Eris, you need them as your ally. I’ve been talking to Helion, but he hasn’t been responding well to this plan of ours. He’s worried about your mother’s life and now with Nesta in the game,” you said, your voice firm, as you crossed your arms.

“He is not supposed to be involved, he’s at fault for her misery in the first place. I have everything under control,” Eris snapped, frustration evident in his tone.

You laughed bitterly.

“You just showed me how much control you have. Helion needs to be involved because your mother is his mate, just like Nesta is Cassian’s mate. Do you see how many problems this might cause?”

His glare was sharp, his jaw clenched in anger. “And what about your mate?” he seethed.

Your powers flared to life, vines curling slowly behind your back, twisting with an almost dangerous grace.

“That’s a new low, Eris,” you said coldly. “Mind your tongue.”

The room pulsed with the intensity of your anger, your gaze locked with his as the vines continued to unravel.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have.”

Eris clenched his jaw and he didn’t argue further.

You exhaled. “ She can stay, under the condition that she follows my rules.”

“She will,” Eris said.

“She won’t be harmed. She’ll be treated with dignity and respect. I promise”

Eris stood up, stepping closer. His expression softened as he placed his hands gently around you.

Then, with a quiet exhale, he hugged you. It was hesitant at first, as if he was afraid you might still push him away. But when you didn’t, he tightened his grip, pulling you tighter.

He needed the reassurance and to be honest you needed it too. You were touch starved.

The last time this had happened, you were both sixteen, young, reckless and untouched by the burdens that now were weighing on you.

That night, in the quiet of the woods, you had made a bargain to always protect eachother and be loyal to one another.

Now, years later, everything was different. And yet, for the briefest moment, as you stood in his arms, it felt like nothing had changed at all, like it was before the duties and the wars that had hardened you both.

But for just a second, you let yourself rest in the warmth of his embrace.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“You know I still owe you Amias’ life and mine,” you murmured.

Eris nodded, understanding in his gaze.

“Tell him I love him,” he added softly, “and that I’m sorry I brought no presents this time.”

“I will.”

You exhaled, stepping back. “Now go, before I kick you out.”

Eris smirked. “Fine. I’ll come back later tonight.”

With that, you turned and walked out, making your way back to Amias.

⋆ ♡ ⋆

As you entered the room, your heart clenched. He had fallen asleep on the floor beside his toys, his small frame curled up, his wings enveloping his body as if he was hiding. His eyes fluttered open as he sensed your presence, his shadows slithered toward you, wrapping around your wrists as they tugged you closer to him.

“Has his father arrived?” you asked Nara quietly.

She shook her head. “Not even a letter, my lady.”

You swallowed the frustration rising in your throat.

Kneeling beside Amias, you gently brushed a curl from his damp cheek.

“Amias,” you whispered.

He stirred, slowly sitting up, his puffy, red-rimmed eyes locking onto yours. He must have cried himself to sleep.

Guilt twisted in your chest. You cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mommy had to talk with Uncle Eris.”

He blinked up at you. “Uncle Eris?”

You smiled faintly. “He’s sorry he couldn’t stay and he loves you very much.”

Amias nodded, rubbing at his tired eyes. Then, hesitantly, he asked, “Where is Daddy?”

You winced.

“Your father is coming later tonight,” you assured him.

“But he’ll make it up to you. He loves you very much, angel.”

Another small nod. But this time, there was hesitation in his expression, doubt creeping in.

“Will he come back?”

“Of course,” you said gently. “It’s just work.”

He nodded again, but sadness lingered in his gaze.

You pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, my sweet boy.”

He curled into your arms and as you held him. The thought of leaving him again, even just to deal with your new guest made your chest tighten.

But there was no choice.

You had a mess to clean up.

⋆ ♡ ⋆

Before you even reached the room, you could hear the shouting.

Multiple voices clashed over one another, servants hurriedly rushing away and power crackled in the air like a brewing storm.

Azriel was back.

Eris didn’t know about your bargain. You scolded yourself for the oversight, for not anticipating this.

Heart pounding, you pushed forward, stepping into the chaos.

The scene before you was nothing short of a battlefield. The eldest Archeron sister stood behind Eris, half-hidden. Meanwhile, Lucien and Azriel were locked in a furious shouting match, their magic glowing.

Without hesitation, you slammed the heavy door shut.

Silence.

All heads snapped toward you, the tension thick enough to suffocate. The only sound left in the room was the sharp clack of your heels against the marble floor as you strode forward.

Azriel was a mess. His leathers were torn, his face bruised and bloodied, his normally pristine hair disheveled. He looked like he’d been in a fight, a bad one. But none of the others bore a single scratch. Whatever had happened, it had been before he came here.

You came to a stop in front of him, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. His massive wings were flared wide, casting a dark shadow over you. His golden-hazel eyes, now looking like liquid gold were locked onto Eris, his shadows writhing around him like vipers, ready to strike.

“Azriel,” you whispered.

He didn’t move. Didn’t look at you. His gaze stayed fixed on Eris, his fingers twitching at his sides.

Turning away from him, you addressed the others.

“How the fuck can he enter?” Lucien demanded, his voice sharp.

“I will explain it later,” you promised, exhaling through your nose.

“That was an oversight on my part.”

Eris stood firm, Nesta’s hand clasped tightly in his. She pressed herself further behind him, looking fragile, she was too thin, to small. Your gaze flicked back to Eris, searching his face for the anger you knew was brewing beneath his carefully controlled expression.

“I will take care of it,” you said, voice steady.

“I promise you, nothing is as it seems right now. She is safe and welcome here.”

The bargain between you pulsed, a reminder to Eris of the vow you had made.

Eris’s jaw tensed, his features hardening for a moment before something in him relented. He believed you. Even if his body remained coiled tight with tension, his grip on Nesta’s hand loosened just slightly.

“Lex will see that you are accommodated, undisturbed and left in peace,” you said evenly. Your voice left no room for argument. “No one will harm you in my home.”

The three walked out and Azriel moved to follow, but you grabbed his wrist gently.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice firm yet soft.

His jaw clenched in frustration. He didn’t pull away, but his posture stiffened, as if he were ready to break.

When the door clicked shut behind them, Azriel’s eyes focused solely on you. His wings were still spread wide, his golden eyes locked onto yours, intense and piercing.

You felt small in front of him, towering over you like a giant, but you felt no fear. His presence was overwhelming, yet strangely comforting. His shadows reached out, enveloping your body in a cool, almost soothing embrace. They were like a second skin.

“Sit,” you said, motioning toward the chair opposite you.

He hesitated for a moment before lowering himself into the seat, his body still tense as if every muscle was on alert.

Your gaze scanned his body as you took in the damage. His knuckles were swollen, the deep bruises darkening his skin. His body was covered in cuts and bruises.

Kneeling infront of him you softly took his hand, gently healing it with your magic. You moved slowly, deliberately, feeling the power flow through you, soothing the pain in his injured hand.

“Where were you?” you asked quietly, focusing on his hand, avoiding looking into his eyes for a moment.

His voice was rough as he answered, his gaze never leaving you.

“Searching.”

“For the eldest, I presume?” you asked, your fingers intertwined with his.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours as you worked, your touch soft but deliberate.

You bent his hand gently to assess the damage.

Azriel liked the quiet, how quiet his head was with you right now. His heart began to pound, a realisation dawning on him. He liked the way you touched him, how soft and careful you were, just like you used to be.

Bending his hand back, you asked, “Does it hurt?”

He shook his head, though the faint wince in his expression suggested otherwise.

Your face softened, but your words were anything but gentle.

“The next time you come like this into my house, I will skin you and string you up for everyone to see.”

Azriel’s breath caught at the sharpness of your tone, his chest tightening. Before he could respond, you interrupted him, your voice cutting through the moment.

“Let me heal your face,” you said quietly, your voice softer again.

You reached up to touch his face, your magic cold against his burning wounds. As your fingers grazed his skin, he closed his eyes, the sensation both soothing and unsettling. He shouldn’t feel good about this, about the way your touch calmed him, about the way it made something stir deep inside him. He had thought of you as someone who had wronged him, someone he should stay away from. But now, something about your presence made him feel a pull that he couldn’t explain, like he had to tell you everything.

“Cassian,” he said, his voice rough, barely a whisper as his mind swirled with confusion.

“What?” you asked softly, focusing on his face as your magic worked.

“It was Cassian,” he said again, this time his voice strained.

“He’s the one who did this to me.”

“Why would he…?” you asked, still working on his face, your fingers lingering near his lips.

Blood was dripping down his chin, he must have bit it open again.

Azriel’s breath was shallow as he struggled to make sense of his emotions.

“He’s going mad,” he murmured, his voice tight.

“Because of Nesta?” you asked.

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed, his tone bitter, almost defeated.

Your fingers lingered a moment longer, pressing gently to his lips, trying to heal the blood that still trickled from the cut. His heartbeat quickened, every nerve responding to your touch. His eyes met yours and for a split second, the world seemed to fall away. Desire stirred deep inside him he just hoped you wouldn’t notice. He wanted to kiss you, feel your lips against his once again, to stop pretending everything had been fine. But that would complicate everything. You would kill him if he tried.

He had been dreaming of you since the moment he saw you again, after four long years. And now, as your touch lingered on his skin, it felt like he had been pulled back in time

Before everything went wrong.

His thoughts were interrupted by your words, cutting through his thought.

“That your High Lord said he would execute her?” you asked, your voice bringing him back to the present.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely audible, breathless.

“Azriel,” your voice was soft, a gentle whisper that seemed to draw him in, your words wrapping around him like a siren’s call. He shut his eyes, groaning quietly, hoping you wouldn’t notice how his body reacted to your closeness.

“It was Rhys, not Cassian,” he responded, his voice hoarse.

“I don’t think a mate would leave another if they felt safe, right?” you pressed, your gaze steady, a challenge in your voice.

Azriel’s eyes met yours again, his breath hitching. He noticed the way your fingers glided over his skin, tenderly healing the cuts Cassian had left. His face was swollen, bruised, luckily, his jaw wasn’t broken and it seemed most of the wounds would heal fairly easily.

“He’s been kind of an asshole to her,” Azriel muttered, his voice rough as he tried to explain. “He’s been working and stressed a—”

“Would you have treated your mate like this?” you interrupted, the question almost too soft, too easy for him to answer.

You cradled his face gently, the light from your magic casting a soft blue glow around the room, healing his injuries as you continued to hold him. His eyes stayed locked with yours as you worked, his breath steadying despite the chaos inside. He felt lightheaded with how close you were to him.

“Never,” Azriel whispered, his voice tight. He licked his dry lips, his gaze never wavering from yours.

“Then why would it be okay for him to?”

Azriel swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. You weren’t wrong. Everything inside him wanted to defend Cassian, to defend the bond between mates, but the truth was hard to deny. He had failed to protect Nesta.

“I know your brother is in pain, but so is she,” you said softly, you almost had him.

Azriel’s jaw tightened beneath your touch, his breath quickening. His scarred hands moved to gently hold your wrists, as if to remove them from his face, but he winced at the pain.

Gently, you moved your hand over his chest, your fingers tracing his worn leathers. With delicate care, you unbuttoned his jacket, exposing the bruised skin underneath. His broken ribs made it difficult to breathe, you could see his discomfort. You began to heal him, the cool light of your magic glowing softly against his injured skin.

As the adrenaline slowly left his body, the pain seemed to hit him all at once. His eyes closed briefly, but when they opened again, they locked onto yours.

“You won’t tell them where she is,” you whispered, your voice unwavering.

His breath caught as your hands continued to work, moving to the buttons of his clothes, carefully unfastening his belt and unbuttoning his pants.

“Our son needs to be safe in his home,” you said meeting his lidded eyes.

“And you’ll make sure that nesta location wont be revealed either, just like you promised, right?”

Azriel let out a soft whimper.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as your hands continued their work.

Your hands moved carefully across his skin, over his chest to his throat. You stood up, now almost taller than him, tracing the handprint left on his throat.

“You’ll keep Nesta and us safe, right?”

Azriel nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a promise in them.

“It’s a bargain then,” you said softly.

“Yes” He said without hesitation, you felt a small burn behind your ear, you would check it out later.

You continued to heal him, your fingers gently brushing across the scarred surface of his hand. Something inside you stirred, something small, but it was there. You would deal with it later.

“Good,” you said, your voice returning to its usual firmness.

Standing straight, you broke the moment, your voice sharp and composed once more.

“Button up your pants. I’ll send another healer to take over.”

“I have to talk to the others,” you added, your words cold once again, as if nothing had changed.

Azriel looked up at you in confusion he wa so confuse about . “What?”

Azriel felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs.

His fingers twitched where they rested on his thighs, his mind still catching up to what had just happened. The warmth of your hands still lingered on his skin, but it had been a lie. You had just guided him exactly where you wanted, let him believe he was safe with you, that he could be vulnerable, just for a moment.

But you had never meant for it to be anything more than a transaction.

A bargain.

His stomach twisted, he felt sick. He should have known better. He should have seen it coming.

His jaw tightened as he watched you pull away, as if nothing had happened. The warmth in your voice was gone, replaced by that same cold, detached authority you always wielded so well.

He had been played.

And the worst part?

It wasn’t just anger that was coiling in his chest. It was something else, something darker, more dangerous.

Because for the first time in years, he had felt something real with you again. And he had no idea if he hated you for it… or if he wanted more.

“Amias has been waiting and crying all day,” you said, your eyes narrowing slightly.

“He’s been missing you. We’ll also need to have a conversation about that.”

Azriel’s face softened, guilt flashing in his eyes.

“Rest,” you said firmly. “You need it.”

He hesitated for a moment before standing up. His face, though no longer bruised visibly, still held the exhaustion and pain of the day.

“Let me see him first,” he requested quietly.

“You’re still hurt,” you said, pointing at him. “He’ll notice.”

His jaw clenched.

“Let me see him. Do I always have to beg you?” His voice was a mixture of frustration and hurt.

You didn’t flinch, your eyes locking onto his with a coldness that was never this vicious.

“Careful,” you said, your voice icy. It was a warning, a sharp reminder of the boundaries you’d set.

Azriel gulped, his posture stiffening before he slowly sank back into the chair, visibly deflated.

“You’ll see him when the healer allows it,” you added, your words leaving no room for argument.

With one final glance, you turned on your heel and walked out, the door closing behind you with a soft click, leaving Azriel to wrestle with his frustration and the worst day he might have had in a long century.

⋆ ♡ ⋆

Walking past the open window, you reached out and grabbed the white cat by the scruff of its neck. It let out a terrible, loud meow, its green eyes glaring at you with all the rage it could muster.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been up to, you little shit,” you muttered, holding it up to eye level.

The cat hissed, its tail lashing in irritation, but you didn’t let go. You simply kept walking, its tiny body dangling from your grip as it continued to yowl at you.

Taglist for Found you is closed!

Please leave some comments 💜

Also Anon I’ve thought about Eris and Nesta and this is for you✨ I hope you like it 😘

Still working on their story

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eatsbooks · 1 month ago

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currently thinking about 💭eris vanserra who does not drink, not really. eris vanserra who will have a glass of wine, maybe two, but anything beyond that is just water he has glamoured to keep up appearances. eris vanserra who does not like to be out of control of his faculties, even for a second, because when he is, those he cares about get hurt. eris vanserra who had been too-young and drunk on stolen kitchen spirits the first time he didn’t notice his father’s mounting irritation with his mother and watched her nose get bloodied over dinner. eris vanserra who had been drunk the night he refused to kill jesminda for his father; and perhaps if he had been smarter, if he had played the game better, he could have glamoured another poor soul in her stead and ferreted her away, he could have been there to do more for lucien than simply alert tamlin, he could have kept the three brothers he lost that day, two to death, one to hatred. eris vanserra who does not drink, but when he does, the harsh lines of him relax, and he smiles more, and his eyes twinkle, and color rises to his cheeks, and he looks so much like lucien that his mother cannot stand to look at him. eris vanserra who does not drink, not really.💭

#acotar #eris vanserra #lucien vanserra #vanserra brothers #sorry i have been down horrific over him while writing this fic #crazy that it’s from azriel’s pov but every interaction between them has me punching the air over eris #even if the enemy is ourselves*#*eris

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mcuamerica · 10 months ago

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Loving Flames | Part One

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: Amarantha decided to 'gift' you to Eris Vanserra to get back at Rhys. Requested by anon here.

Warnings: 18+ only, canon level violence, alludes to SA, the word whore shows up a few times, (again not proofread), let me know if anything was forgotten...

Word Count: 4.6k

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

Eris met you when you were 35, years after the war. It was at a High Lords meeting, with your father bringing you along to introduce you to the court. It snapped for Eris in that moment.

You were wearing a spectacular navy blue and silver gown, fabric attached to your shoulders to make it look like a cape. Your wings were tucked in tight behind you to keep from bumping into anyone.

He tried to speak to you that night, tell you about the bond, but his father pulled him away quickly and he didn’t see you again.

The next time he saw you, however, you were by Rhysand’s side in all black, mourning the loss of your father and your mother. And your wings. While Tamlin’s brothers didn’t kill you, they almost did. Taking time with you is what allowed you to live, unfortunately for you.

Eris tried approaching you again, needing to say at least something to you. This time, Azriel, the ever obedient guard dog, growled and told him to leave. These ceremonies were for friends only. Which the Autumn Court was not. That night, Eris gave up on the idea that you and him could be together. He decided to leave you be, and avoid you at all cost.

But then Amarantha came sweeping in. Rhysand brought you to the ball with all of the High Lords when she took their powers. As since Rhysand’s father killed Tamlin’s, she wanted to punish him more than just taking him to bed.

“Beron, which one of these is your heir?” She asked, perched atop the throne. You were standing close to Rhys, his arm around your back. Eris, even though the bond was buried deep down, could feel the nerves radiating down that bridge. You were terrified. That she was going to hurt you. Or Rhys. And what better way than letting your enemy do it or you.

“I am,” Eris spoke before his father could utter a word. His father shot him a deadly look, but Amarantha’s smile widened.

“Good. I’m gifting her to you.” She said and smirked, nodding towards you.

Your eyes widened. Rhys looked to Eris with an even deadlier look than his father, almost saying ‘if you hurt her, you will be killed slowly and I’ll enjoy it.’ Eris stepped forward, soliciting a growl to come from deep within Rhys’s throat.

“Easy, bat, I will be gentle.” He said, unable to drop the mask. He forced his hand to remain steady as he reached it out to you.

You shrunk closer to Rhysand, listening as he leaned down and whispered something not even fae eyes could detect. You looked up to Rhys with pleading eyes.

“Hurry, now, I do not have all day.” Amarantha said, staring at her nails as if she were bored.

With a final nod from Rhysand, you shakily took Eris’s hand.

He did not pull you, instead allowing you to walk with him back to where his father and brothers stood. After that that, he let go of your hand. He promised himself he would protect you, even if you all thought he was a monster. He would never harm you, and never make you do anything you didn’t want to. Not as long as he could help it. His mate. You were under his protection now, and he would be damned if he let anyone harm you ever again.

Deciding to make you suffer even more, since you were the reason Rhysand knew about Tamlin’s brothers hurting you, Amarantha assigned you to a tiny room connected to Eris’s. It didn’t have a fireplace, and it barely fit the small bed that was in it. There was a small room filled with revealing clothing. Specially placed there so you could please Eris, according to her.

But months went by and he did not touch you. He would escort you to court dinners, offering you more food than the small portion you were allowed. You never accepted, eyes always darting for your brother to bring you some sort of comfort. But, Rhys was barely there. If he was, his eyes were cast downwards as Amarantha stroked his arm or his leg, making it clear that Rhys was her obedient dog, her whore. It made you sick to your stomach, but you knew he did it to keep your family safe. So maybe one day you could return to the sanctuary of Velaris.

You flinched slightly as Eris rested a hand on top of yours. “You need to eat, my lady,” he whispered. What seemed to be concern filled his eyes.

“So you can treat me like a pet?” You asked, swallowing your fear.

“So you can survive this.” He said. “I-“ he glanced up as Amarantha stood up to make an announcement. “I will come to your room tonight and I want you to have strength.” He said before she began to speak.

A chill ran down your spine at the thought of what you imagined on your head. You looked down to your plate, taking a small bite of the food. You were no good if you starved yourself. And if you didn’t please Eris like he wanted to, either he or Amarantha would punish you. Probably in front of your brother. Or make him do it.

Eris hummed in agreement to your action, before his attention looked towards Amarantha.

That night, you were shivering in your bedroom. The light set of pajamas doing nothing to keep you warm in the cool room, surrounded by nothing but stone. You perked your head up when the door connecting to Eris’s room opened. He normally used the main one connected to the hall, but tonight he must have wanted to be discrete. Bile rose on your throat in anticipation of what was about to happen, tears welling in your eyes as you body shook from the cold.

“I’m taking you to see your brother.” Eris said quietly. You looked at him, sitting up even more as you curled into yourself more.

“Why?” You asked

Eris’s heart broke at the sight of you, shivering from the cold and near tears from what you imagined he would do. He could be the villain in your story as long as he could keep you safe. But he needed you sane, as well. He would not let you deteriorate under this gods-forsaken mountain.

“Did you not hear Amarantha? She is sending Rhys to do scouting for the next few months. And I’d like for you to get a proper goodbye.” Eris said. “Here,” he said, pulling out the long, wool lined robe for you. “You’ll be warmer in this.” He even warmed it up with his internal heat before he came in here.

You slowly reached out, grabbing it before wrapping it around your body. He saw as you sunk into its warmth, wish that it was him you could find such comfort in.

He held out a hand and you slowly took it. “I’ll need to act like I’m taking you somewhere else, so just stay close and don’t talk.” He whispered before wrapping an arm around your waist. While you would have normally recoiled, you could only lean further into his body heat, much warmer than any you’ve know before. You assumed it was his internal flames burning under his skin, maybe causing his temperature to be much warmer than others. It must have been a nice luxury to have. Though, you were certain he had a fireplace in his room. Not that it would be hard for him to conjure flame anyway.

Eris stole glances at you, hoping that this would make you happier. You hadn’t seen Rhys, at least not at a distance where you could embrace or talk, for at least a year. But Eris knew Rhys would take your unwillingness to eat as Eris forbidding it, or some other malicious thing. Your eyes were sunken, each piece of clothing hung from your body looser as the days passed. You looked tired, exhausted, as if someone was draining the life force from you. No matter how many times Eris had asked, you were never allowed outside with him. Not even on one of the upper balconies. Your punishment for being alive while her friend was dead. It seemed Amarantha wanted to punish you more than Rhys. And Eris was just glad he could be there to protect you from most of her wrath, claiming that his gift shouldn’t be harmed. The things she threatened to do… Eris hoped she wouldn’t figure out you were his mate. Because if she did… even if her and Beron were allies, Eris didn’t think she would spare you much longer.

Eris knocked on a door, one of the shadow wraiths opening it. Your lips turned into a gentle smile as you greeted Nuala, happy to see a familiar face.

At the site of you, Nuala stepped aside. Rhys had bruises all around his neck, where he was staring at them in the mirror. You swallowed and looked up at Eris.

“Five minutes.” He said and stepped back, nodding at you to go in. You tentatively took a step inside, and once you were over the threshold, Nuala shut the door. Rhys turned, his eyes widening as he finally took account of who was in the room.

“(Y/N),” he breathed out rushing over to you. He looked you over, frowning at how poorly you looked. He cupped your cheeks and searched your eyes. Searching for the carefree little sister he knew. “Are you okay? How did you get here?” He asked.

Rhys must have put a shield around the room before Nuala opened the door, if he did not know Eris brought you here.

“I’m fine… I wanted to say goodbye. You are leaving for the outside soon.” You said, your voice quiet and weak. If Amarantha was trying to torture Rhys, she was doing a good job at it.

“Has he hurt you?” He asked.

You shook your head, wanting to say how well Eris was treating you. But the look on Rhys’s eyes told you he wouldn’t believe you. Maybe you needed to make more of an effort to be involved in this ridiculous, cruel court. But would that make you any better than Beron? Would it help you? Would it help your brother?

Rhys pulled you in for a hug and you wrapped your arms around his chest, burying your head in it. “Please come back.” You whispered, holding him tighter.

“I will never leave you here.” He whispered, rubbing your back. “And I will do everything I can to get you away from him.” He said as he pulled away.

“Did Amarantha do this?” You asked as you traced the small circular bruises on his neck.

“She likes to mark her whores.”

You frowned, looking up at the cold look in his eyes. “I’m proud of you.” You whispered. “I want you to know that… you are doing what is right for our family. And I’m so proud that I can call you my brother.”

You could see the words didn’t hit like you wanted them to… and your heart sank at the thought of Rhys not thinking he was doing enough. Or that he wasn’t good enough. “I will see you soon, (Y/N).” He said, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.

You glanced at the time on the clock, then noticed Rhys had a balcony to go outside. “Fly for me, brother.” You whispered before stepping back. “I will see you soon.” You said before turning around and walking out of the room. You gave Nuala another smile before finding Eris with his back against the opposite hallway wall.

You walked up to him and took a quiet, internal breath. “I’d like new clothes.” You said to him.

His rose his eyebrows, shocked at your sudden urge to talk to him. “Excuse me?” It came out more rude than he meant it, but didn’t let that show.

“I-“ you started and then took a visible deep breath. “If I am to be your gift, I want to be presentable. I would like new clothes.” You said. You had no intention of doing anything for Eris, and the more you could avoid him, the better. But if Amarantha thought Eris favored you, maybe she would let you out. Maybe you could fool her into thinking you were enjoying it. And maybe that would be enough for her to let you leave your room by yourself.

“Okay.” Eris said.

It was your turn to be shocked. You thought you would need to convince him a lot more than that.

“Give me a list of clothes you’d like, and I’ll see what I can do.” He answered, then held out his arm. “Now come, you must be tired.” He said.

You tentatively took his arm, still slightly shocked that he didn’t dismiss you. This male that you knew to be cruel and abusive was nothing but kind, gentle, and patient with you. You started to piece together the times you interacted with him, and couldn’t think of a single time were he was mean. Maybe distant, cold, but plenty of faeries were like that. Your brother was like that a lot of the times. It was a mask to keep him safe. Maybe Eris was the same. Maybe you could trust him.

You faltered as he did not stop at your door, but kept walking a few more steps to his. You looked up at him and watched as he opened the door and lead you inside. Maybe you didn’t escape what you dreaded earlier today.

“It’s warmer in here. If you’d like, you can sleep in here. I can take your room.” He said.

You frowned. “What?”

“Every time I see you, you are freezing. And it’s because Amarantha put you in a room that is meant to be a cooler. Why it’s attached to a bedroom, I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s the proper place for the Princess of the Night Court to sleep.”

“But… won’t you get cold?” You asked, glancing to the door that connected the rooms.

“I run hot.” He said, a slight smirk coming to his lips.

“Why are you being nice to me?” You asked.

“Maybe it will be beneficial to me later on.” He said and shrugged. “But I cannot bring myself to harm you.” He said. “In anyway.”

And he showed it. From then on, you stayed in his room. Soon enough, you offered him to come to your room too. Even with the fire, you were still cold. You supposed it was the lack of food, of sunlight, of fresh air. It was not good for your body. So, you asked him to join you in the bed. Just to sleep. And he obliged, staying on his side of the bed. Until one night, where you were particularly cold after a ‘winter’ ball was thrown.

You turned over to Eris, who seemed to be asleep. You were in an oversized sweater and some loose pants. Courtesy of your wardrobe he provided for you. “Eris?” You whispered.

His head turned towards you as he opened one eye, a small smile coming to his lips.

He would act like this whenever you were alone. When no one could see you, he would show you a soft side. A side that had you wondering where all the cruel things said about him came from. This couldn’t be the same male that left your cousin for dead in the Autumn forest. He was so different than how Mor described him. If he was helping you, why wouldn’t he help her?

“Yes, princess?” He asked.

You weren’t even technically a princess, but he insisted on using the nickname. You were surprised it didn’t bother you.

“Can you… make the fire warmer? I’m cold.” You said quietly.

His eyes flickered to the burning hearth before looking back at you. “Can I try something before?” He asked.

You searched his eyes and, as usual, found no malice. Maybe a hint of mischief, if you detected it correctly. You gave him a nod, narrowing his eyes as he asked for you to turn on your side. Your back facing him.

“Do you trust me?” He asked when he noticed your hesitance. You paused at the question. You’ve been asking yourself the same thing for months. Almost a year now. Could you trust Eris? “Remember what I said? I won’t hurt you.” He said.

You slowly took a deep breath, turning your body so your back was facing him. You tensed up when you felt him shift on the bed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling her closer to his warm body. “What- what are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m going to make you warm.” He whispered in l your ear, the breath sending a shiver down your spine. In the best way.

Suddenly, you felt his hand settling on your bicep, and your arm instantly warmed up. You relaxed into the warm, smiling to yourself.

“Is this better?” He asked, rubbing your arm up and done as he held you close.

“Much.” You answered, even leaning into his chest more.

Eris became your anchor Under the Mountain after that. You often found yourself clutching his bicep, not wanting to be far from him. He stayed true to his word. He would not hurt you. And, apparently, he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt you either. One day, you were in the throne room as the court reveled, sitting on a loveseat while you waited for Eris to bring you something to drink. One particularly drunk made stumbled his way to sit next to you and got too close for your liking. Right as he was about to wrap an arm around you, Eris hauled him out of the seat. He pushed him back and said something with a growl you couldn’t hear, and then the male was running out of the room. Not many males approached you after that.

Maybe it was because your brother was gone for so long, or maybe it was because Eris was genuine to you. Even when you were out of the room, when he wore that cool uninterested mask, he was gentle with you. His touch was never too tight or too harsh. Was never too high or too low. He made you comfortable. You were starting to like him. As a friend, at least.

For the next 40 years, you were always around him. Even when Amarantha gave you more freedom, you wanted to be near Eris. Rhys started to notice, but didn't say anything as it was only apparent for your affection to his enemy before Summer, Winter, and Day rebelled. And then Amarantha's reign became increasingly strict. With only High Lord dead, and a new one taking his place, there was more tension than ever. Especially because anyone who was caught doing anything suspicious was whipped or tortured in front of the court. Sometimes, your brother would be the one to hold their minds and do it.

However, after finding out that Autumn and Night had nothing to do with the rebellion, she decided to be nice one day and allow you to the upper levels. She gave you in particular one rule, do not go outside. You couldn't help but watch as your brother went out on one balcony. And on the other, Beron and his sons were laughing. Actually laughing. It was only one month when the High Lord of Summer was killed and a bunch of Winter children were closed. Children. And Amarantha was celebrating you all.

Eris, however, was sat across from you on the couch. He noticed the way you longed to go outside, realizing while he was allowed out to visit his court with his father, you were stuck Under the Mountain. You hadn't been outside in more than 40 years.

"You should go, celebrate." You muttered, motioning to his family. "You may not be able to leave for along time." You said, frowning as you looked to your hands.

"I'm just fine in here." Eris said, resisting the urge to lean over and grab your hand. While you never crossed a line of being intimate, or anywhere near it, you had become friendly with Eris. You were more than glad to curl into his side at night, hold his hand at the dining table, or grab his arm while you walked around the passageways.

Before you could suggest it again, one of Eris's brothers peeked his head into the room. "Eris, bring your whore in here." He said.

You internally winced at the term, and Eris glared at his brother. While many people had called you the same, Eris normally corrected them. Especially his brothers.

"She isn't my whore." He growled out. "And if you call her that one more time, Sol, and I will rip your throat out." He said. "Besides, you know she can't go outside."

"Ah, Amarantha will never know." Sol said and smirked. "We'll distract the bat, you take her out there for some alone time." He said, making his way over to the balcony where Rhys was standing. As Sol pulled him inside, you could visibly see and hear Rhys's growl. He didn't want to be here, but if he could watch you amongst the Vanserras, he would.

"Sol-" Eris called out but groaned when him and one of the other brothers pushed Rhys out to talk to Beron and the Lady of Autumn. About what, you didn't really care. You stayed in your seat, taking a deep breath.

"I could at least open the door." He said and stood up, going over to the free balcony and opening the door to let in the breeze. You stood up, standing in front of the threshold. You closed your eyes as you felt the wind on your face, even if it was light.

The smile that came to your lips took Eris's breath away. Even in this terrible place, you could still find small bits of joy.

You looked down at the gap between you and the rest of the world, Eris standing on the other side. "Thank you." You said quietly to him, holding out your hand for him to take. He squeezed your hand, fighting the urge to pull you over the threshold and into his chest. He could image your giggle and scolding before you stepped back into the room. But before he could answer you, Amarantha burst through the doors with two of her sentries.

"Seems like the little princess can't follow the rules... Ah, Eris, are you trying to disobey my command?" She asked.

Your eyes widened and you immediately dropped Eris's hand. "I didn't go outside." You said quickly.

"No, but you were about to. And Eris was going to help you." She said. Rhys and the others came in.

"Now that I ponder it, I do remember hearing about the two of you sneaking around the passage ways months ago. That wasn't to spy, was it?" She asked. "Acting as lust-crazed fools?"

You never once showed any interest in Eris like that, and yet everyone just assumed the two of you were sleeping together. Or more like Eris was fucking you as he pleased.

"Nothing to say? Too bad." She said and nodded towards the sentries, one of them grabbing you and the other grabbing Eris. Rhys lunged forward to try and protect you, but Eris's brother's grabbed him.

"Relax, bastard, no one's going to hurt the princess." Sol teased.

"What is the meaning of this, my queen?" Beron asked, the ever-loving servant. His wife next to him looked completely uninterested other than a hint of worry for her son.

"We will make sure Eris and the princess never sneak around again." She said, giving a small wave before walking out of the room.

Before you knew it, you were standing in the throne room with Eris on his knees. One of Amarantha's sentries had a whip in his hands. "This is what you get for disobeying my command. And you get to watch princess, for luring him like you did the former High Lord of Spring." She said.

You looked at Eris, then at Rhys, pleading him with your eyes to do something, anything to stop this from happening. Rhys just tilted his head and stood beside Amarantha. Of course he thought Eris tried to pull you out and he would gladly see Eris punished over you.

The sound of the whip rang out, skin ripping underneath it. Beron and his other sons stood, stoically watching the punishment.

"How many month ago was it? 5? You've been sneaking around 5 months?" She asked. You weren't even sneaking around, you were simply walking. "5 more." She said and you struggled against the sentries holding you back. "Oh and another 5 for all those months lying to me." She said.

More sounds of the whip. More skin ripping. You watched as Eris clenched his teeth, never yielding a yell or scream. Like he had endured this before. You, on the other hand, were silently crying. You desperately tried to hold back your tears, but you couldn't.

After the final sound of the whip crack rang out, Eris sagged to the floor. "And 10 more, because I don't like hurting my friends." She said.

"Stop!" You screamed, an instinctual tug at your gut telling you he would bleed out if he received any more. "I'll do anything, stop this. Eris didn't do anything wrong." You begged, the sentries yanking you back as your legs almost gave out from under you.

Rhys shot you a look that essentially told you to shut your mouth, but you didn't see it. You were staring into Amarantha's cold eyes.

"Anything?" She asked. When you let out a whimper and nodded, a side smirk came to her red lips. "What about agreeing to be locked in sweet Eris's room under I die?" She asked. "Seems like a fair trade, since you disobeyed my command of not going outside. And you can't roam the halls with him either."

You let out a gulp, hearing a small whisper from Eris telling you not to do it. "So long as you, or anyone of your behalf, hurts him again. I will stay in his room." You said.

"Unless I command you out to court, you will stay in his room. And I, nor anyone on my behalf, will not hurt him. Until I die." She said.

You stood up straighter, feeling Rhys's eyes on you. "We have a bargain." You said.

"That we do." She said as you used your magic to imprint a tattoo on your back, right where Eris's scars would be. In doing so, you did the same for Amarantha, who only smirked more. "Take him to a healer. And take her to the room." She said. You stumbled as they pushed you towards the giant doors. You watched as Eris's sagging body was hauled up by his brothers, nearly sobbing at the sight of him.

As the sentries pushed you through Eris's room's door and shut it behind you, you suddenly realized what you agreed to. You were going to be trapped in this room forever. Unless she wanted to torment you more. Or she died.

What did you just do?

Part Two

A/N: This was so much longer than I expected and it's not even finished yet.. There will be at least another part! Hope you all enjoyed!

Taglist

#loving flames fic #acotar #katie writes #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #acotar fic #acotar spoilers #eris fic

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slytherin-pen · 3 months ago

Text

Kindling the Flame

pairing: Eris x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, Eris is scared but nothing happens

all acotar credits belong to sjm

a/n: yay! i’m back from the dead. not super proud of this one but it was one of my few wips that were close to being finished when i decided to get back to it. i’d been going through some adhd paralysis and health issues but hopefully i’ll be back to normal soon.

Eris Vanserra paced the length of the room, his boots whispering across the hardwood floor of your shared bedroom. His face, usually calm and composed, was marred with worry. His gaze darted back to you, lying on the bed with a damp cloth pressed to your forehead, your skin pale and clammy.

"Love," he murmured, his voice a soft, worried rumble as he knelt beside the bed. "You need to eat something. Just a little. Please."

You shook your head, the mere thought of food sending another wave of nausea rolling through you. "I can't, Eris," you whispered, voice strained and tired. "Everything makes me sick."

Eris’ jaw clenched, his mate instincts screaming at him to protect you, to make this better somehow. Yet, he was helpless against this invisible force causing you so much distress. He brushed a few stray sweat-soaked strands of hair from your face, his fingers gentle as they lingered on your skin.

He had never felt this powerless. His magic could command flames, and his influence could sway an entire Court, but he could do nothing against this. This cruel twist of fate that left you so ill, so fragile. A dream of having a child together had become his current nightmare. The little fireling was sucking everything out of you, and as the days passed it was getting harder to get anything in you. A mix of wonder and dread filled his chest. He was thrilled to become a father, to hold your baby in his arms, but this? Watching you suffer, unable to do a thing? Watch as the life drains out of you, as your cheeks hollow out, and the joy that once filled your eyes is replaced with fear? It was unbearable.

He tried to reflect on his mother’s pregnancies. So many centuries ago now but he could remember them briefly. Perses, and the twins, August and Aethon, had been easy for Phoebe in the beginning. She claimed to have not had many symptoms until the third trimester. With Killian and Macareus she had some slight hiccups, nausea in the beginning being one of them. He nearly thought of her pregnancy with Lucien and quickly slammed the door of his mind on that thought. It was the one pregnancy Phoebe had struggled with during labor, thanks to his cruel father. His mate did not need those stress-inducing memories, she needed to eat.

"I’ll try some tea," he suggested, forcing calm into his voice even as his heart raced. "Ginger, maybe. It might help settle your stomach and then we’ll go from there."

You nodded weakly, knowing he was trying his best. "Alright," you murmured, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before leaving the room.

In the kitchen, Eris moved swiftly, hands shaking slightly as he prepared the tea. He felt a rush of frustration that he couldn't simply snap his fingers and make you better. He wanted to burn away your sickness with his flames, to destroy whatever was causing you pain, but he couldn't. This was your pregnancy, your body nurturing the tiny life within you. He had to be patient. You’ve barely entered the second trimester and it already felt like he was close to losing you. After witnessing the birth of his six siblings he knew this was supposed to be the least dangerous part. Sure, not being able to eat certain foods anymore and lighting cinnamon candles all around the house to block out the less-than-savory scents was expected. He had hoped you would get some relief by the second semester as his mother had, calling it the eye of the storm, but your condition has only worsened over time. What was once a short list of foods to avoid has become endless, your nights are sleepless as you toss and turn with insomnia, and the way your emotions changed throughout the day reminded him of the money scale sitting on the desk in his office.

Returning to the bedroom, he found you curled up tighter on the bed, your face pinched with discomfort. "Here, my flame," he coaxed, sitting beside you and helping you sit up, holding the teacup to your lips. "Try a few sips."

You took a tentative sip, grimacing slightly at the taste but managing to swallow. Eris’ hand moved to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles there. "That’s it," he encouraged softly. "A little more."

The tea felt warm going down, and you managed a few more sips before the nausea surged again. Eris' face fell as he saw you press a hand to your mouth, trying to fight it down.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, feeling tears prick at your eyes as you leaned over the side of the bed. He was immediately there, grabbing the small trashcan on the floor and holding your hair back, murmuring reassurances even as he felt a stab of panic shoot through him.

"Don't apologize, love," he murmured once the wave had passed, wiping your mouth gently with a damp cloth. "None of this is your fault."

"But I know it worries you," you whispered, voice small and fragile. "I don’t want to cause you pain."

Eris’ chest tightened. “You don’t. Not in the way you think,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. “I just… I hate that I can’t make it better. That I can’t take this from you. I’m so afraid of losing you, and I don’t like seeing you suffer.”

You reached out, your hand finding his, squeezing it with whatever strength you had left. "I’m okay," you assured him, even though you both knew it wasn’t entirely true. "It’s worth it. For our baby."

His heart softened at your words, his free hand moving to your stomach, resting there gently. “Our baby,” he echoed, a faint smile on his lips. “I know. And I’m excited, love, more than you know. But if anything happened to you…” He trailed off, the fear evident in his amber eyes.

You leaned into his touch, letting his warmth seep into your skin. “Nothing will happen,” you whispered, but your voice was tired and not as confident as you’d hoped. “I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Eris nodded, though the tightness in his chest didn’t fully ease. He pulled you closer, cradling you against him as if he could shield you from the sickness. “Let me try making some broth,” he offered, his voice determined. “Just a little. It’s light, and it might stay down.”

You nodded, too tired to argue, and he pressed a kiss to your temple before reluctantly pulling away again. He busied himself in the kitchen, channeling his worry into careful preparation, pouring all his love and care into the simple task.

When he returned with the steaming bowl, he sat on the edge of the bed, lifting the spoon to your lips. “Just a sip,” he encouraged gently. “For me?”

You smiled faintly and took the spoonful, managing to swallow. The warmth of the broth spread through you, soothing the ache in your empty stomach, and you nodded for another. Eris’ heart lifted slightly, his hope rekindled.

“Good,” he praised softly, his fingers brushing your cheek. “Take your time.”

You took a few more sips before the nausea started to build again, and Eris quickly set the bowl aside, ready to help you if needed. But this time, the sickness didn’t overwhelm you, and you managed to take a deep breath, leaning back against the pillows.

“See?” he murmured, a small, proud smile on his lips. “You’re stronger than this, my love. We’ll get through it together.”

You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed, exhaustion pulling at you. “I know,” you whispered. “Thank you, Eris. For everything.”

He pressed another kiss to your forehead, his heart swelling with love for you. “Always,” he promised softly. “I’ll always be here.”

And as you drifted off to sleep, he stayed by your side, his hand resting protectively over your stomach, his heart full of determination. Whatever it took, he would see you through this. You were his mate, his love, and nothing would stand in his way.

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar fandom #eris x y/n #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra imagine #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris x reader

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serpentandlily · 1 year ago

Text

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny VI - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: smut (minors dni), fluff, angst, misogynistic language/beliefs, violence

A/n: I hope this part is good enough for you guys to forgive me for being a week late!

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Part VI

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To your disappointment, when you woke up the next morning, Eris was already gone—the sheets cold on his side. You let out a sigh and got up, blinking the sleep from your eyes. It was only then you realized Willow and Ivy were fretting around the bedroom, the wardrobe doors thrown open and piles of dresses on the floor.

“What on earth are you two doing?”

Your handmaidens jumped in shock at the sound of your voice before Ivy turned to face you. “Oh, Lady, you are awake! Lord Eris requested we pack an overnight bag for you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “For what?”

They both shared a glance before shrugging but they couldn’t hide the smiles on their faces. “We can only guess, my Lady, but he did not tell us anything.”

“Did he at least tell you where he’s taking me?” You sighed but they both shook their heads.

“No,” Willow grumbled, “Which is why we’re struggling to pack. We have no idea what you’ll need.”

But Ivy just smiled brightly. “We’ll just pack a bit of everything. That way you’ll be ready for whatever it is he wants.”

The look in her eyes told you she knew exactly what Eris wanted and your cheeks turned red. You let out a huff of air before falling back down on your pillows.

“Oh no, Lady, you mustn’t fall asleep again. We are to escort you to the stables in an hour's time. Willow will run you a bath.”

You let Willow help you get ready, your mind on Eris and what he had in store for you. Willow dressed you in a long burgundy gown that had a corset styled bodice that clung to your frame and a flowy chiffon skirt. Tiny roses were embroidered along the lighter side panels of the skirt.

Luckily, it wasn’t long before your handmaidens were presenting you to your mate who was waiting for you at the stables.

Eris was staring at you with an intensity that had your face full of color. It wasn’t until the two of you were left alone that his infamous fox-like grin spread on his face. He was dressed finely in dark brown breeches with riding boots and a tunic embroidered with small leaves along the seams.

“Would you like your own horse this time, bunny?”

Right, you did technically know how to ride a horse now. But you shook your head. “May I ride with you?”

“Who am I to deny a lady her request?” Eris purred, extending a hand out to you. Butterflies danced in your stomach as you took it, letting him pull you close so he could lift you onto Marigold, the horse.

He strapped the overnight bag to the horse before he lifted himself up behind you, wrapping his arms around your body to take the reins in one hand and pulling you back against his chest with his other. Your cheeks turned pink and you let out a content sigh as the warmth from his body combatted the crisp morning air.

Marigold started her trot into the woods and it was silent for a moment before you spoke.

"Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise," Eris teased.

"I don't like surprises," you pouted.

"No?" Eris's breath tickled the tip of your ear. He moved your hair to one shoulder, granting him access to your throat. He pressed a kiss against the sensitive skin there causing a shiver to run down your spine. "Well, that's too bad, bunny. You're getting one."

You were smiling without realizing it, so honed into the places Eris's body met yours. The morning birds were chirping, the leaves rustling in the chill autumn wind. It was enchanting. The Autumn woods were quickly becoming a sanctuary for you and your mate. You hadn't felt this happy in a long time.

You asked Eris an endless amount of questions about the Autumn Court, his brothers and family, and his life during the horse ride to wherever he was taking you. The sun began to set, sending streaks of golden light through the openings in the leaves. It wasn’t until you saw smoke curling around the tops of the tree, that you realized you were nearing your destination.

Soon, a small cottage nestled between the tall trees appeared. Moss and ivy clung to the outer walls, blending it into the earthy flora surrounding it. A path made of fallen leaves led towards the front door, flanked by wildflowers in various colors. The babbling of a creek met your ears as you squinting to see through the sunlight filtering in through the canopy of trees above.

“What is this place?” You twisted your head to look up at Eris.

“One of my personal residences,” Eris answered, staring wistfully ahead. “One few know about.”

As you drew closer to the cottage, Eris guided Marigold to a stop. He slid off the back, keeping one hand lingering on your waist.

“And you're sharing it with me?” Another secret Eris was willingly divulging to you. He had no idea how much it meant to you. He gave you a charming grin as he helped you down.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t share with you, bunny. What is mine is yours,” he said. He kissed the top of your head before guiding you into the cottage with a hand on your back.

As you stepped over the threshold of the hidden cottage, the scent of aged timber and a faint hint of herbs and spices greeted you. A snap of Eris’s fingers had the wood in the fireplace coming to life. Furniture made from weathered oak and mahogany filled the room, now illuminated by the warm glow of a crackling fire in the stone hearth. A plush armchair was nestled beside the hearth, a stack of books on top of it.

In a corner of the room, a spiral staircase wound its way upwards, disappearing into the shadows above. An opening straight ahead showed a peek of a kitchen. You spun as you walked forward, taking it all in before turning back to find Eris staring at you with a small smile.

“I come here when I need a break from my father and duties,” Eris said, surprising you once again with his candidness. “And I needed to come here today so I didn’t murder my brother for slipping that breeding tonic into your drink last night.”

Your eyes widened. “Reid?”

Eris nodded, his jaw clenching. “He claims he did it only to embarrass you a bit at dinner but then my mother sent you away. He says he had no idea that you’d run into those guards.”

You rubbed your arm, looking down at the floor as the memories of last night flooded your mind. “And you believe him?”

“I unfortunately do. That doesn’t mean he didn’t face any…consequences for his little prank,” Eris said as he walked towards you. He slipped two fingers under your chin and made you look at him. “But I want you to know, bunny, that nothing like that will ever happen to you again. Do you hear me? I will not let anything happen to you. I don’t care who I have to kill to ensure that.”

“But Eris—”

He placed a finger against your lips, silencing you. “No. No buts. I was blessed with the gift of fire and I will burn down this whole world with no remorse if that's what it takes to keep you safe. Do you understand?” You opened your mouth to rebuke his words but Eris shook his head. “I don’t want to hear any objections. They will change nothing. Just a simple yes or no, bunny. Do you understand?”

You searched his amber eyes for something, not even knowing what you were looking for. But you knew what you found. A heavy resolve, a promise, a need to protect. And you realized in that moment that you felt all those things as well. You swallowed, audibly.

“Yes,” you whispered. “I understand.”

Eris grinned. “Good.”

“So, why have you brought me here, my Lord?” You asked in a teasing tone, lightening the mood.

“I brought you here to have a break from the suffocating nature of my court,” Eris answered, guiding you further into the charming cottage.

“Well, I appreciate your consideration, my Lord.”

“Oh, back to formalities, little bunny?” That fox-line grin bloomed on Eris’s face. “I thought we moved past that last night.” He stepped closer to you, brushing some of the hair away from your face. Your cheeks turned red again causing Eris to chuckle, “Oh don't look so embarrassed, bunny. You seemed to quite enjoy having my affections.”

Butterflies danced in your stomach. His scent was too enticing, the power that seemed to burn all around him all encompassing. Your face was on fire, your heart too. But he was right. You had enjoyed last night. You had wanted his lips on you, his hands on your skin. That hadn't changed. Even now that the breeding tonic had worn off. That craving for his touch was still there.

"I believe you made me a promise last night, my Lord," you replied with a slight smile, toying with the laces of his tunic.

“I did,” Eris growled and took your hands in his. “I intend to keep it.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. The look in his eyes caused another wave of desire to crash into you. Unfortunately, your stomach decided that was the time to make itself known. A small rumble sounded and you nearly cursed at it. But Eris chuckled and stepped away, to your disappointment.

“Come, bunny, I had the cook prepare us a light dinner,” he said, leading you to the kitchen.

Dinner consisted of an array of cheeses and breads, along with dried fruits and nuts. You were glad it was so light because you had more of an appetite for the male sitting in front of you than the food on the table. The sentiment seemed shared considering the lingering touches and heated looks Eris had been sending you. By the end of dinner, he looked quite pleased with himself for riling you up, sitting in his chair like it was his personal throne. Eris waved a hand and the dishes and plates disappeared in a blink of an eye.

You sat frozen in your chair as he eyed you, drinking the last of his wine from his goblet. His gaze was enough to set you on edge, predatory but it didn't frighten you in the slightest. In fact, it made you come alive. He set his glass down before standing, making you hop out of your chair. If you had it your way, he'd toss you over his shoulder again like he did the first time you'd met and carry you straight to the bedroom. But instead, he leaned against the kitchen cabinets and beckoned you to him.

You'd never felt more like a bunny than in this moment. Like a hare about to be caught in a trap.

As you stepped close to him, he brushed the hair out of your face, hooking it behind your ears before taking your cheeks in his hands. His touch was so warm, so comforting. Who cares if this was a trap? If this was the fox you were to be ensnared by, then so be it.

“I need you to understand something before we continue down a path I know I will never be able to return from, bunny,” Eris began, his amber eyes glowing in the candlelight. “Whatever happens tonight is your choice. If you want to go back to the manor, I will take you. If you just wish to sleep, that is what we will do. Anything you don't like, just say the word and I will stop without question. Do you understand?”

A moment of silence passed as you processed his words, the care he was spelling out for you. Your hand fell on his chest, lingering over his beating heart. One you now knew was good—at least for you. And you realized it was never the fox that had ensnared the bunny but rather, the other way around.

Because this Eris, the one standing before you now, was entirely reserved for you and you only.

“Eris,” you whispered.

“Yes.”

“Kiss me,” you breathed out. “Please.”

“You'll never have to beg me, bunny,” Eris purred before finally pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss became heated fast, leading the two of you to stumble around the cottage until he was pushing you up the stairs. You giggled, taking your skirt in your hands to rush up the steps. You barely made it through the threshold of the bedroom door before you were grabbing Eris by the lapels of his shirt and pulling him into a frenzied kiss. He groaned, eagerly kissing you back as he kicked the door shut behind him.

Your hands slid down to the buttons of his shirt, feeling his muscles tensing under your touch. But Eris pulled your hands away from him before breaking the kiss. You whined at the loss of contact, lips swollen and breasts heaving with pants.

“Not so fast, bunny,” Eris said with a wave of his hand that had every single candle lighting in the room.

You gasped as the room came to life, as the light illuminated the large four-poster bed covered in dark red, velvet sheets and fluffy pillows in all shades of Autumn. A small hearth warmed the room and textured fabrics hung from the ceiling embedded with faelights that gave the room a hazy and comforting atmosphere.

“Come here,” Eris rasped, holding out his arm.

Your heart fluttered as you took it, letting him draw you close. He spun you around and moved your hair to one shoulder before his hands drifted down to the laces on the back of your corset. His nimble fingers began to expertly unlace your corset while he pressed a kiss to your exposed shoulder. You let out a breath at the feeling of his warm, soft lips against your skin.

You reached back to help him with the ties, too eager to wait, but he ripped your hands away. “Relax, little bunny,” Eris purred. “Let me do all the work.”

Your heart started beating faster.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Eris smirked against your skin, satisfied with the response.

He finished unlacing the corset and your dress dropped to the floor, pooling around your feet and leaving you in just your underthings. You were nearly shaking with anticipation, your breathing heavy as he lightly brushed his knuckles down your spine, causing you to shiver.

Eris leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Get on the bed.”

“I thought you were doing all the work,” you teased.

“You’re right,” Eris smiled before he picked you up by the hips and tossed you onto the bed as you squealed, letting you fall on the soft cushions.

He prowled towards you with a grin, unlacing his own tunic and tugging it off. Your gaze fell to his chest, his muscled abs. Your breath caught in your throat. Eris already looked like a God but he was built like one too.

Eris’s eyes roamed your body, his hands fisting like he was restraining himself.

You held your breath as he slowly hovered over you, his eyes searching yours for a moment until he found the certainty he was looking for. And then he kissed you again and your body came to life once more. Sparks skittered down your skin, crackling with energy.

He kissed his way down your jaw, your throat, all the way down until he was scraping his teeth against your pebbled nipple still hidden under your bra. You gasped before slapping a hand over your mouth.

Eris’s eyes shot to yours and he growled, “My one and only rule tonight is that you let me hear those noises, bunny. Do you understand?”

You gulped and pulled your hand away from your mouth, nodding your head though your cheeks turned pink.

“Good girl,” he purred before continuing on, leaving a trail of kisses down your exposed stomach until he pressed a kiss to the dampened spot on your panties, right between your legs. You breathed out his name, so on edge.

“Gods,” Eris groaned. “You smell absolutely divine.”

You might be a virgin but you weren’t completely naive when it came to sex. You had certainly read enough romance novels to prepare you for this moment. But you hadn’t expected to feel like this—to feel so utterly captivated by Eris, aching for his touch.

“I want to see all of you, bunny,” Eris murmured, his amber eyes drinking you in. He toyed with the straps of your bra as he gave you his famous grin that made him look all the more fox-like considering the absolute hunger in his gaze. “May I?”

“Yes,” you said, breathless with butterflies ravaging your stomach. The desire for your mate ate away any embarrassment you might’ve felt otherwise.

His grin grew, his elongated canines exposed. Eris slowly pulled the straps of your bra down your arm, the silky fabric moving softly against your tingling skin. And then his hands were beneath you, arching you up slightly so he could unhook your bra.

He gently pulled the garment off of you, tossing it to the floor.

“Beautiful,” Eris groaned, his hard cock pressing against your thigh told you just how true that statement was to him.

Shyness started to creep in and you quickly covered yourself with your arms, blushing bright red. Eris tsked and moved your arms away. “Don’t be shy, bunny. It’s just me and you here.”

Just you and Eris. Just you and your mate. His words eased you and you felt your body soften underneath him. His large hands caressed you as he kissed his way down your neck until he finally took one of your breasts in his mouth.

You hissed, your hands flying to tangle themselves in his hair. He grinned against your skin as he continued his ministrations, making you feel hot with need. You whimpered as his cock rubbed against you.

“Please, Eris,” you begged, not even sure what you wanted or needed.

Eris sat up, his hands sliding to your waist. “Is my bunny ready for something more?”

You nodded, eagerly, squirming under him. He hooked his fingers around your underwear. “Lift your hips for me, babygirl.”

Your heart swooned at the new nickname.

“Gods,” Eris groaned as he finally peeled off your final piece of clothing, baring you fully. “Gods, you are so beautiful.”

You felt…vulnerable as he drank in the sight of your bare body laid before him. Your toes curled at the predatory look in his eyes. Something about the dominance, the control he held over you in this moment made every rational thought leave your mind—his scent of crackling embers and cinnamon was intoxicating.

Eris leaned over you again to run his hands over every soft curve of your body. His hand drifted back between your legs, gently caressing your throbbing core. You whimpered, bucking up into his touch.

Eris smirked against your lips. “Is my little bunny ready for me?”

You swallowed harshly while nodding your head.

He pressed a kiss to your neck before whispering, “I need your words, bunny.”

“I’m ready, Eris,” you whimpered. “Please, don’t stop.”

“I already told you that you’d never have to beg for me,” he murmured. He kissed his way down your neck, his body sliding down yours. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you doing?” You didn’t want to wait any longer, already going crazy with want. But he didn’t stop.

“Relax,” he purred. “Let me take care of you.”

He pressed a kiss to your stomach.

“My little bunny,” he murmured against your skin.

Another kiss to the spot between your hips. “My babygirl.”

And then he was kneeling on the floor, hooking his arms around your thighs and yanking you to the edge of the bed. You gasped, raising on your elbows to look at him. He kissed the back of your knee, tickling you, before he moved his way up your thigh, leaving love bites along your skin.

“I need to taste you.” His voice was full of hunger, lust, as he left marks all along your thigh—sucking and biting the soft skin.

You gasped as he ran his tongue up your slit, grasping the bedsheets in your fists. The books you read always made this act seem hot but feeling it was something else. Desire flooded you, leaving you panting for air.

And then Eris was devouring you…devouring you like you were the sweetest fruit he’d ever tasted. You tossed your head back against the pillows, crying out his name in pleasure.

“Eris,” you mewled. “Gods.”

Eris’s own hand slipped down to rub himself through his pants at the sound of your cries. His other hand rose, replacing his mouth to rub circles on your clit.

“I’ve got to get you ready for me, bunny,” he whispered, his finger toying at your entrance making you squirm with need. You weren’t sure what he meant by that until a single finger slowly slipped inside of you.

You moaned at the feeling, your back bowing off the bed. Eris slowly pulled his finger out before thrusting it back in you. You couldn’t help your hips from grinding down in rhythm with his thrusts.

“That’s it, babygirl,” he praised. He gave you a few more thrusts before he slowly started to add another finger. You hissed at the feeling of being stretched, sucking your breath in. “Breath, bunny. You’re doing so good.”

Another thrust had you finally relaxing, the slight pressure replaced with hot pleasure. You moaned his name as Eris continued to fuck you with his fingers, his mouth sucking on your clit again. He didn’t stop. Not even as your moans came out as pleas, as his name fell out of your lips over and over again while he pushed you over the edge, your vision going black with all the pleasure as you orgasmed.

Still, he continued to devour you, causing you to writhe, overstimulated with pleasure. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pulling slightly as you cried but Eris merely growled, “I’m not done yet, bunny.”

You weren’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse. You ultimately decided it was indeed a blessing as he brought you to your second orgasm with his tongue and fingers far more quickly than your first. You were gasping for air as he made his way back up the length of your body, smiling with satisfaction at how unraveled he had made you. You couldn’t help but grab Eris’s face in your hands, marveling at his striking and cruel beauty.

“You’re never escaping me now, bunny,” he growled, running his nose up the column of your neck and groaning at your scent. “Now that I’ve got a taste of you, I’m never letting you go.”

“I don’t want you to,” you murmured, your heart beating in your chest.

“Good,” he answered, kissing you and letting you taste yourself on his lips. His hand was back between your legs, stroking your still sensitive core. You moaned into his kiss, your hips thrusting up against him.

He grinded his hips down, rubbing his hard cock against you and you gasped, breaking the kiss. The unbridled hunger in his gaze had your heart racing as he stared down at you. “Do you still want this, bunny?”

“Yes,” you whispered, quickly. You were sure you’d go insane if he didn’t fuck you at this point. He sat back on his haunches and began to unlace his pants. His hard cock sprung free from its constraints and your eyes widened as you glanced down at it.

Eris tossed his pants somewhere behind him, chuckling as he noticed you observing him. By feeling alone you’d known his dick was big but seeing it now, you felt slightly intimidated. You sat up a bit and reached a hand out, lightly stroking him with curiosity.

Eris groaned, his hips twitching into your touch. He gently pulled your hand away, resting over you with one arm next to your head. “You can explore later. I need you. I can’t wait any longer.”

You nodded, swallowing with anticipation. He stared directly into your eyes as he guided himself towards your entrance, pausing one last time to allow you the chance to stop. But you placed a hand on his cheek and pulled him into a kiss instead. Eris kissed you, hungrily. His tongue parted your lips as he devoured you. He lined himself up before slowly starting to push into you. He wasn't even an inch in before he felt the resistance. He kept you locked in a kiss as he pushed farther in, stretching you out to the point of pain.

You cringed slightly at the feeling, pulling away from his lips with a hiss. But the way Eris stared down at you with so much reverence and care comforted you. Still, you grimaced as the pain increased, as the stretching felt more like he was tearing you in half.

You hissed again and Eris peppered kisses to your face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, unable to tell him to stop apologizing. He grunted as you dug your nails into his biceps while he continued to thrust in slowly. “Fuck, bunny, you’re taking me so well.”

His praise caused your heart to flutter, making you relax more until he was seated all the way. He groaned, glancing down at where both of your bodies were now connected. Your grip on his biceps were still tight as the pain started to soothe into a warmth that began to spread throughout your body.

“Breath for me, babygirl,” Eris whispered, kissing your jaw. You nodded, eyes squeezing shut. You hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in your breath. The exhale of air from your lungs made your body soften fully and soon the pain was overwhelmed by the pleasure of having him inside of you. You moaned out his name, trying to let him know you were ready for more.

“That’s it,” Eris groaned, feeling the tension leave. He slid out only a fraction before pushing back in—just enough to make you whimper. He brushed some of the damp hair from your forehead with a tenderness that had the bond in your chest aching.

You were desperate for him to start moving and you realized he was waiting on some cue from you—some sign that you were ready for him. But talking felt impossible right now, your brain empty of all thoughts except a need for your mate. You lifted your hips, your breath catching with the movement. Eris grunted at the feeling of you around him.

You breathed out his name again and that seemed to finally snap his restraint. Yet he was still gentle as he pulled all the way out of you before slowly thrusting back in. Your back arched at the new feeling. You finally released your grip on his biceps, stringing your arms around his neck instead.

Eris began to move faster, deeper. One of his hands slid down your thigh, guiding you to hook it around his hips. The new angle caused him to hit a spot inside of you that had moans spilling from your lips. Eris kissed any part of you he had access to—your cheeks, your lips, your ears, your neck. His lips were hot, warming your skin as if you were standing next to an open flame.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful.”

His thrusts into you had you sliding against the silk sheets, had your breasts bouncing and your core throbbing around him with pleasure.

And he was watching you the whole time with a devotion that had you breathless. His whiskey amber eyes so focused on you and your pleasure, like it was all that mattered to him in this moment. His rhythm quickened, his strokes faster and faster as you spiraled underneath him—coming undone completely.

It was overwhelming in the best possible way. Your bodies together as one. The feeling of the mating bond singing in your chest. The bliss of finally sharing yourself with someone you were falling in love with. Someone who held you like you were his entire world. Someone who saw all the unseen parts of you—the parts no one else had cared to look at.

The culmination of everything had fire licking its way down your body, warmth spreading through your veins. Each thrust had a new wave of pleasure crashing into you. Each kiss had your heart beating to the tune of his. You were his in this moment—heart, mind, body and soul. And he was yours. Your fox. Your mate. Your Eris.

Your vision went white as you toppled over the edge for a third time, screaming his name as you were consumed by his fire. Eris cursed as he rode out your orgasm, his pace growing sloppy as he lost himself in the feeling of you. He pounded into you, over and over again. You were mindless as you lightly grasped his cheeks, staring into his beautiful face—your body still in its state of bliss.

“Mine,” he grunted. “You are mine.”

“Yours,” you agreed. “And you belong to me.”

Those words had more of an effect on him than you could ever imagine. He groaned your name, his jaw tensing before he cried out and gave one final thrust inside of you that had the entire bed shaking. His forehead fell against yours as he climaxed, shuddering and panting for air.

You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other for who knows how long. Just you and him. You and Eris. Nothing else mattered right now. Not his father or his court. Not your sisters or your mysterious powers. No conflict, no war, no pain. Nothing but the two of you and the eternal flame that connected your souls.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You should've known that the euphoria wouldn't last for long. The universe always had a way of making sure the highs were met with the lowest of lows. So when you returned to the Forest House with Eris the next day and were summoned immediately upon arrival to the throne room, you were not surprised. Still, a lead weight dropped in your stomach. Eris had staunchly tried to argue that you could remain within his chambers while he dealt with the matter but the guards had been adamant that the High lord had requested both of your presences.

He held your hand tightly in his as you walked into the throne room together. Beron sat on his throne, Seraphina on her smaller chair to the side of him. Eris’s three brothers stood at the bottom of the dais—each of their faces unreadable. Reid’s face was covered in bruises and you winced, knowing it was your mate that was behind it. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to feel bad. Not after what he had done to you.

Eris had glamoured your scents, not wanting to give his father any ammunition to use against you. The Gods knew how traditional the Autumn Court was. Beron would be displeased to know you had sex before your mating ceremony. Would likely use that as an excuse to do who knows what.

“Father,” Eris said, dipping his head in a faux show of respect.

Beron glanced at his son before looking at you, expectantly. You dropped Eris’s hand and curtsied like you’d been taught. “High Lord.” It was enough to have him look away from you and back to his eldest son.

“In the time you’ve been absent,” Beron started, holding his hands behind his back. “I’ve learned of a few…events that have transpired in this court. Namely the death of three of my best guards and the disfigurement of one of my sons.”

Eris scoffed, straightening his cuffs. “Reid will heal.”

You tensed, noting the anger in Beron’s eyes.

“That may be so,” Beron replied. “But my guards will not.”

“They deserved death for what they did,” Eris growled. “They attacked my mate.”

“And by whose word is that?” Beron asked, his tone chilling. “Were there any witnesses of this alleged attack? Or did you simply take the word of a female over three trained, professional guards—guards who have protected you your entire life, son?”

“I saw it with my own eyes,” Eris snarled, stepping forward.

Beron merely tilted his head, staring down at his son. “Any other witnesses?”

“You don’t believe your own son?” Eris questioned, causing Beron’s eyes to narrow.

“Not when his actions seem far too…uncharacteristic,” Beron said. “You are not known to attack others, Eris. I expect far more restraint from my Heir. Now, answer my question. Are there any other witnesses?”

Eris stood up straighter, unwilling to back down. You swallowed harshly, your eyes darting between Beron and your mate. “Her two handmaidens were witness as well.”

Beron chuckled, mirthlessly. His dead eyes lacked any amusement. “Two lesser fae? As if they are known for speaking any truths. Please son, you humor me greatly.”

“So you refuse to take me at my word,” Eris scowled. “Yet also refuse to hear from the two witnesses who saw the attack, as well. What is it you want?”

Flames licked the shoulders of the High Lord, a show of his growing ire. “Watch your tone when talking to me, son. What I want is justice for the guards who have lost their life over something so…trivial.”

“Trivial?” Eris scoffed. “You think it’s trivial that they—”

Beron held up a hand, silencing his son. “I wasn’t finished. Do not interrupt me again or there will be far greater consequences.”

Eris moved in front of you, blocking his father’s view. You were nearly shaking with dread, nausea swimming in your stomach. Where was Beron going with this?

“As I was saying,” Beron continued. “I seek justice for the guards who are now dead. Punishment for your mate’s lack of decorum that resulted in their actions which led to their deaths. For that, she shall receive ten lashes.”

The room fell silent except for a small gasp that came from your lips. Ten lashes? Ten lashes all because his guards had attacked you? That was….that was insane! Your lip quivered. Eris glanced back at you for a second, his face pale before his expression hardened into rage. He turned back to his father, glaring.

“I am her mate,” Eris declared. “And according to Autumn law, allowed to take her punishment as mine.”

The fact that he wasn’t trying to argue with his father told you that it would probably be no use.

“Is that what you want?” Beron looked pleased, as if he knew this would be the outcome to his sentencing. You felt ready to puke. How could a father be so eager to hurt his own son? Just how twisted was this male?

“Yes.” Eris’s voice didn’t waver or soften.

“Eris,” you whispered in horror, stepping forward. You couldn’t let him do this—couldn’t let him get whipped on your behalf. Neither of you should be facing this punishment. It was both cruel and unjust. But if someone had to take it, it had to be you.

Eris turned to look at you with a stern expression.

“Don’t speak,” he ordered, his voice so harsh you nearly flinched but you knew his anger was not directed at you. You knew he was just doing what he could to protect you. “Go to my chambers and stay there until either I or your handmaidens come to collect you.”

“She is not going anywhere,” Beron spoke up. “You are allowed to take her punishment but she is ordered to stay and watch. She must understand what it means to be a part of this court. Must understand what her actions have caused.”

“Father,” Eris’s voice was slightly pleading for once but Beron held up his hand again.

“Another word and it will be fifteen lashes instead.”

Eris’s shoulder fell and he quickly schooled himself, nodding. You took a sharp breath, your eyes welling with tears. You wanted to reach for him but two guards grabbed you by the upper arms and held you in place. You watched as Eris began to unbutton his shirt, tossing it to the ground before falling to his knees at the bottom of the dais.

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

You were going to be sick.

You choked in fear as Beron summoned a whip made of fire in his hands, coming to stand behind his son. You tried to break free from the guards’ hold but it was impossible. Tears slipped down your face.

“Don’t!” you cried out. “Please, don’t hurt him! I’ll take them. I’ll—”

“I said another word and it would be fifteen lashes instead of ten,” Beron growled, his cold eyes darting to you before they looked back down at his son. “Your mate just caused you another five lashes, Eris.”

No. No. No.

Your eyes darted around the room, looking for someone who might put an end to this. Who might stop this. But it was Finn who caught your eyes and gave you a small shake of the head, his lips pressed in a fine line. You were heaving, horrified. You had made things so much worse already. So much worse.

No one was coming to stop this. No one was coming to save Eris. No one ever had.

You stood frozen as the first crack of the whip echoed through the big room, striking Eris’s back and ripping through his flesh. Your heart was pounding in your chest as the whip rose again, the flames dancing in a menacing way. Another strike had more tears blurring your vision. By the third strike, you had fallen to your knees, retching.

You couldn’t even see Eris’s face, but you knew it was contorted in agony. You tried to send comfort down the mating bond, comfort and love and anything else, but it was met with a wall of flame that blocked you out. That only had more tears falling down your face. Even in his agonizing pain, Eris was still protecting you.

Memories of last night flooded your mind. The joy, the elation, the love. The time spent together wrapped up in each other like nothing else mattered. The secrets the two of you had shared beneath the covers. How had you gone from that to this?

Your heart shattered with each strike. Your soul was aching as you sat there, watching in horror as Eris’s blood began to pool on the tiled floor. You had caused this. This was all your fault. All Eris had done since the beginning was try to protect you. And this is how you had returned the favor. The worst part of it all was knowing he wouldn’t even blame you at all for this. Not even for the five extra lashes you had caused.

By the seventh strike, your own pool of vomit lay around you.

Eris didn’t even cry, barely moved at all. It was haunting and it made you realize that this was not the first time this had happened to him by a long shot. How many times had his father punished him like this in his lifetime? How many scars lingered underneath his skin—only hidden by the unnatural healing of the fae? By the fifteenth strike, you knew the answer to be far too many.

The guards finally let you go once Beron had finished and left the throne room, taking his wife with him. You scrambled to your feet, darting towards Eris but Liam caught you by the arm with a grimace. “You won’t be able to carry him. Let us take him to his chambers.”

You were forced to watch again as both Liam and Finn heaved Eris’s near unconscious form up between the two of them. You trailed behind them, tears soaking the collar of your dress. The walk to his chambers seemed to take an eternity. Eris groaned as they fumbled him through the door.

“Get him to the bath,” Reid murmured, causing you to jump in shock. You hadn’t realized that even he had followed.

You darted ahead of them, starting to fill the basin as they dragged your injured mate into the bathing chambers and slid him into the tub. Eris grunted in pain as the water splashed against his wounds, staining it red. You muffled your own cries with a hand.

“Father won’t allow him to be seen by a healer,” Finn whispered to you. “Can you take care of him from here?”

You nodded your head, speechless.

“He has some cooling salve and bandages under the sink,” Finn said, nodding his head towards the sink. “Come find me if you need help.”

The three brothers took their leave after that, leaving you alone with your mate. You pulled out all the supplies Finn had mentioned, falling to your knees next to the tub where Eris sat, his knees drawn to his chest and his head resting against them.

“Eris,” you finally whispered, stroking his hair. “Eris, I am so, so sorry.”

“S’not your fault,” he mumbled, tiredly.

You wanted to scream. Wanted to cry and scream and rage. But it was more important to take care of him right now. So you slowly set to work, apologizing each time he flinched as you cleaned his wounds. Your heart ached as you helped him out of the bath once you were finished.

“Come on,” you murmured. “Let’s get you on the bed.”

You helped him strip off his wet pants and underwear before laying him down on the bed on his stomach. You pulled the sheets up to his waist, leaving his back untouched. You kneeled on the bed next to him, taking out the salve to start spreading it over the wounds.

Eris let out a sigh as you started applying it and your heart cracked in your chest as he slowly drifted to sleep, his body finally giving out. You cried as you smeared the salve over the burns before bandaging them gently. Once you were done, your head dropped to his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried to his sleeping form. “I’m so sorry.”

You don’t know how long you sat there, crying over him. But at some point, you finally sat up and wiped your face dry. Beron might’ve forbade any healer from helping Eris, but you had learned a thing or two from Elain about some plants that might help. Plants that the two of you used to mash into a paste and give to Feyre for all the blisters and calluses she would return home with when you were living in that small cottage. Plants that you knew you had seen during your ride in the forest with Eris.

With that in mind, you gathered yourself before setting out to collect some, leaving Eris asleep on the bed for now.

Luckily, you were able to sneak from the Forest House without anyone seeing you. You hid amongst the trees, plucking the plants and bundling them in your skirt. When you were confident that you had gathered enough, you started making your way back to the Forest House but you didn’t make it very far before you were interrupted.

Shadows seemed to grow between the trees until a very familiar face stepped from them. You gasped in shock as Azriel materialized right before you, his hazel eyes staring directly at you.

“Y/n,” he greeted, cooly, looking over your form like he was looking for any injuries before meeting your gaze again.

“Az…Azriel? What are you doing here?”

“We’ve figured out a way to get you out of this mess,” he said, taking a step towards you. “Come, Feyre will explain to you once we’re home.”

You mirrored his step backwards, eyes going wide. You didn’t want to go home…in fact, you knew in your heart that Velaris was no longer home to you. Home was…Home was Eris. You shook your head at him, trying to form the words to tell him you weren’t coming.

“N-no,” you finally stuttered out. “I-I can’t go back. I don’t want—”

“Like I said—it will all be explained once we get back,” Azriel cut you off, moving quicker than you and grabbing your arm causing you to drop your skirt. All the plants you had gathered for Eris fell to the ground. “Let’s go.”

And then you were engulfed in shadows, the Autumn Court disappearing from view. And all that was left in your place was a pile of healing plants for your injured mate—for Eris who would go on to wake up alone.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

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onlymexsarah · 4 months ago

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Burning Flames IV | Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!reader Summary: Since you became High Fae there were only two things that scared you: your deadly power and your attraction toward the male you should hate most after Tamlin, Eris Vanserra. Warnings: mention of smut, Eris Vanserra being Eris Vanserra, my english and probably spelling mistakes since I'm also sick A/n: I apologize for my lateness, but uni is kinda taking all my time away. I was dying with the need to write about this scene, and I hope you'll like it🫶🏻 if you want to be add at the taglist just ask! Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

"Eris is coming to the Winter Solstice celebration at the Hewn City." Rhys informed the Inner Circle while you were discussing alliances for the probable war against Briallyn. "He's shaken by Tamlin catching you two meeting with him," he nodded toward your twin and Cassian. "and wondering if we'll balk from the alliance now that there's the slim chance Tamlin might reveal it. Or decide to sell him out first. We need to remind Eris of our continued commitment, and that he is...important to us. That we have his back."

You heard Cassian snarling with disgust while your sister Feyre echoed the expression.

"So buy him a present," Feyre said, waving a hand. "and tell him we all send our love."

You snorted amused at that. "Don't you have some old, dusty jewels? Give him one of those." You said obvious while you rested your arm on the chair's back..

"He'll want more than that." Rhys said, mouth twiching, and his eyes fell upon Nesta.

Nesta. Rhys wanted to use Nesta to win Eris over. The thought alone made you sick. Why her? Why Rhys thought that Nesta alone could make Eris swung at her feet? He had saved your life, not hers. Actually, he would have let Nesta die if it hadn't been for you and Elain.

But of course, Rhysand couldn't know that. No one knew Eris had saved your life during the war, and strangely enough Eris had never bragged himself nor made any comment.

From what Cassian had said it had seemed that Eris had been interest in flirting with your twin, and you had to admit, he had never tried to flirt with you in any occasion. Actually, he had tried to break your patience. So it did make sense, you supposed. Nesta was the most logical choice.

"You want me to dance with Eris?" asked Nesta caution.

"I want you to seduce him." Rhys' words made your stomach twisting with an unease sensation. You didn't know why you were reacting like that, and you told yourself that it was because you didn't want Nesta close to someone like him. It wasn't because the thought of Eris giving his full attention to someone who wasn't you made you sick. No, you could never want something like that. Someone like him.

"You really think that Nesta's dancing with Eris will solidify his loyalty?" you hadn't meant to make the question sound so...disgusted, but thankfully no one seemed to notice. Actually, most of them echoed your tone.

"I think Eris is our ally, and will expect to dance with a lady of this court at the ball no matter what." Explained Rhys to you, probably mistaking your disgust for worryness. "I won't let Feyre within five feet of him, Mor might kill him, and Amren is more likely to scare him off than win him over, so you, Nesta and Elain are the only options, but from Cassian's report Eris hadn't seem too friendly with you."

Cassian should learn when to shut up, you thought annoyed. Of course Cassian would say that, because Eris had made sure to annoy you at the meeting with Lucien, Vassa and Jurian.

"Was Cassian wrong?" asked Rhys carefully, reading something in your eyes that you quickly hide.

"No." You said with a lazy smile. There was no point in telling them what had happened during the war, probably Eris had already forgotten it too. "He was completely right."

Rhys watched you for few more seconds with his violet eyes that sometime seemed like they could look right inside your soul and read it. You checked your mental shield and found it intact, the fire that you pushed down burned brightly around your mind, protecting it.

***

The black dress you had chosen for the night fell comfortably over your body as you walked down the hall of Hewn City's palace. You had opted for something elegant yet less reveling than Mor's and Feyre's. The straps fell lightly down your shoulders, the bodice had a sweetheart neckline with what looked like black flames over your collarbone. You still had to decide if it was a hint that Rhys knew about your power still lingering in your body, or it was for pure imagine. The flames seemed to fell down your body in a lovely silky gown that captured the lights with each step.

Unfortunately, you now had to wear gloves, because the burned scars had expanded all over your hands, and the gloves was the only way to hide them. Thankfully, since it was winter no one ever questioned them, and tonight you had put some long, black, silky gloves that matched your skirt.

You were currently behind Rhysand and Feyre, between Elain and Nesta as the two of them still were on no speaking term. Tonight was a show of power, with your sister's pregnancy annouce and your twin's beauty offered on a silver plate for the Heir of Autumn.

You had appreaciated how Elain had wanted to come, and it didn't go unnoticed to you that she had opted to wear a plain dress with just two pearls in her hair to not outshine Nesta. Elain had always been the prettiest of the four of you, but tonight it was Nesta's time to shine, and she had gladly disguided herself as plain and boring.

As you entered the throne room every eyes fell on you. Not on you, actually. On your sister's swollen belly. You heard gaspes and whispers all around you. Keir's looked torn between anger and shock, and you had to hide an amused grin.

As your eyes scanned the room with a bored expression, you took you ropportunity to look at the redhead beside Keir, knowing he would be too focus on your sister to notice your staring, but as your eyes fell on the him you found two amber pounds already staring at you.

Eris was looking at you. Not at Feyre. Not at Nesta, the one supposed to catch his attention. He was looking only at you, and you hated how your heart skipped a beat.

He looked at you like he could admire you for the first time, and somehow it was true. You both knew that no one would notice your staring at each other, because everyone's attention was on Feyre.

You used every second to drank the sigth of him. Eris was dressed in Night Court black, and you could be damned for how handsomely he was. He looked like the darkest of the dark dreams that someone shouldn't have. That someone be you.

That game was dangerous, you realized. Those stolen glances, stolen moments would lead you only in a dangerous territory. But danger looked so appealing when he let his eyes slowly roam all over your body.

For a moment you felt more naked than Mor and Feyre.

Eris must have noticed the black flames on your dress because he slowly grinned. It wasn's a mocking grin, it wasn't even amused. It was one of Eris' grin that you still had to classify.

His eyes met yours again, and he did the last thing you had expected. He winked at you. He fucking winked.

You felt your cheeks getting warmer and you quickly looked in front of you again, dismissing him as if nothing had happened, and for a moment you wished it hadn't.

As Feyre and Rhysand sat on their thrones, you and your sisters went to stand at the foot of the dais, between Cassian and Azriel who looked like they could kill anyone watching at any of you in a wrong way.

Keir and Eris scuttled forward, and while the former bowed, you pointly avoided to look at the latter. "Allow me to exted my congratulations." said Keir and you knew that he didn't mean a word of it.

"And allow me to extened mine as well," said Eris with a voice that could warm even the coldest spot of the Winter Court. "on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court. He shall be thrilled by this news."

Rhysand mouth curled in a cruel half smile, the stars winking iut in his eyes. "I'm sure he will."

Sometime you forgot how powerful and cruel Rhysand could be. He was always gentle and kind with you, with all his family. But the moment that something threated Feyre's life? He become feral, and you were glad for it. You were glad Feyre had found Rhysand.

They gave the crowd some command to make it loose, and when Eris did to follow Keir Rhysand stopped him. "Before you join the merriment, Eris, I'd like to present you with your Solstice gift."

A long black box appeared in his hands, and you tried your best to hide your confusion. Rhysand had never spoken of other gifts beside Nesta, so what was all of this about?

As the box flew to Eris and he opened it you could see the dagger that Nesta had made. You hold your breath as Eris's face went pale. "There's flame in it." He said. "Why give this to me?"

"You're our ally, " Feyre said, a hand resting on her belly. "You face enemies that exist outside of the usual rules of magic. It seemed only fair to give you a weapon that operates outside those rules, too."

You cursed in your mind as Eris understood that the dagger was Made and started to question Rhysand. Eris culd be the monster of everyone's story, but he was no idiot. Actually, you had the suspicious that he might be smarter than he let the other see.

“Ordinarily I would ask you to dance," said Feyre kindly. "but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.” It was the truth. Feyre had bolted from dinner three nights ago to find the nearest toilet. Now she looked at you and your sisters, as if deciding who would dance with him.

You looked away, not really wanting to see Eris admiring your sister Nesta. You focused your attention on the couples dancing, and you couldn't wait to be among them. You didn't have the same passion as Nesta, but you had always enjoyed it if you had a good partner.

You had asked Morrigan to give you lessons too, just to be able to dance freely with whoever might ask you. It had been fun when you had found Cassian too at Mor's lessons, silently agreeing that you would say nothing about the other.

"One of my oldest sisters shall take my place." you barely heard Feyre's words, knowing she would be gesturing to Nesta, so there would be no point to look away from the musicians.

It was when you heard Nesta stiffining beside you and Elain elbowing you that you looked away and gave the latter a confused look. Elain only inclined her head, pointing to something in front of you.

You furrowed your eyebrow, still confused, and looked where Elain was pointing. Your breath caught in your throat as you found Eris standing in front of you with his hand strechted out.

"If I require right, you are the oldest." He said with that lover's voice that tricked your mind.

You gulped and tried to not let your eyes widining too much as you gave him a nod. "Only by few days."

Why was he not looking at your sister? It was quiet obvious that she was the one planned to be offered to him, the one who looked like a queen. Hadn't Cassian said that Eris had been flirtatious with Nesta? Hadn't Cassian said that Eris seemed to loath you? Then why was he looking like that?

You slowly brought your hand on his, as you had done the day he had saved you, and something about his wicked, sparkling eyes told you he remembered it too.

He brought your hand around his arm, and accompanied you at the center of the dancing floor with a royaly grace. Even throught your gloves you could feel the warmness that his body radiated. A warmness that somehow made your body relax. Hadn't you had asked this to the cauldron? Warm, nice fire? Not the destructive flames that burned inside you.

Eris stopped at the very center of the floor, and you could already feel everyone's gaze on the two of you. What a gossip this would be; one of the High Lady's sisters with the heir of the Autumn Court, dancong at the Winter Solstice.

"Saying that you look gorgeous would be minimalizing." Said Eris as he gently put his free arm around your waist bringing your bodies much closer than they had ever been. "But flames are supposed to be red, not black."

You would have smashed his grin if the violin's hadn't started playing. You put your free hand on his shoulder and rose your chin to meet his eyes, with the fakest, sweetest smile you could master.

You had indeed wanted the dress to be red, because it had always been your favourite colour, but the Night Court's colour was black, and you needed to appear as a unit front.

"I wouldn't want to be mistaken for a member of your beautiful, appealing court." Your tone was soft, not wanting to gain any more stares than what you already had on you, but the sarcasm was there. "I find black perfect for this dress."

You were soo the wrong person to complete the job. Nesta was supposed to seduce him, because Eris didn't rail her up like he did with you. It was impossibile in your mind to even think of being nice with him, let alone flirt.

"What is not perfect is this dance, I'm afraid." he said still with his smirk on his lips. You looked at him confused, and he leaned close to your ear making you hold your breath. "Your High Lord and High Lady look like I have just spilled icy water on them. Aren't you supposed to be the oldest? They seem to think I might eat you in any moment."

His hot breath on your neck made it ashamedly hard to concentrate on what he was saying, and you would never admit to yourself that it was only when he leaned away that you found the capacity to speak again.

"We were all convinced you enjoyed my sister's company more than mine." You managed to say, offering him that truth.

The sound of his dark chuckle was like silk on your skin. His grip on your hadn and waist tightned a little, and you would have ripped his hands away if it would have been any other moment, or any other male.

"And why would I lose time playing with her when I have my perfect match right here?"

Cauldron boils you.

It was a bad, bad, bad, bad thing that you knees almost went weak at his words. It was even worst that your stomach seemed to be dancing its own waltz inside you. It had been so long since someone had touched you like that and hell, no one had ever looked at you like that. Ever.

You told yourself that that was the reason why he was having that effect in you. You had been used to the human's beauty, then you had been too busy to save the world to even notice High Fae's beauty. Eris had just happened to be in the right place at the right time and boom, you were weak on your knees for him.

"Someone might stirr if they heard you calling me your perfect match." You said finding a surprising calm, steady voice. "The future High Lord of the Autumn Court should have no equals."

Something flickered in his eyes as he looked at you with the typical gaze full of secrets. "I have no worries of any equal since you seem so determinated to conceal yourself as a rabbit rather than the dragon that you are."

His words managed to make you shut down every...confusing feeling you had inside and rose your chin a bit higher, watching him with a bored expression. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Is that so?" he slightly tilted his head with the same eyes that a predator used to study its opponent. "Then I take the gloves as the newest fashion in the Night Court? Curious, I don't see many other females wearing them."

He made you do a double spin on your feet before bringing you back against his chest. "I would have thought that a princeling had more important things to think about than the fashion in other Courts." You said coldly.

You hadn't realized that the music had ended until a new dance began and Eris easily led you throught that. It was slower, lighter, but you didn't need to think about the steps; Eris was annoyingly good at leading you.

His eyes darkened a little, as if you had just insulted him. The grip on your hand tightened and you hissed in pain as his fingers pushed into the burned flesh of your palm. "Tell me, it's still about fashion?" He tightened his fingers again and you stepped on his foot angrily.

"Do it again and your father will have to name another heir." you hissed still blinded with pain. Fuck off the whole court him thing; you would have never been good at it nevertless. If Eris wanted to play with you, you would play back.

***

Cauldron boils him.

He was so down bad for you. Never in five hundred years he had met someone who could turn him on just with a glare. And the glare you were giving him was of pure challenge and threat.

He laughed at you. He laughed because it was the only thing he could do. He laughed because the alternative was to see if you would still talk to him like that if he pushed you against a dark corner of the palace, knelt and buried his face under the gown of your dress.

That fucking dress.

You looked like a night Goddess of fire, and the Mother knew how happily he would worship you if given the chance.

But he couldn't. Not until his father was alive. Not until he would be free to let you know the true Eris and let you decide what to do about the bond. Not until you desired him as much as he desired you.

"I would like to see you try without any training." he lightly mocked you, needing to see how far he could push you until you finally gave in and unleashed what you had inside. "But I could make your odds better if you just admit what we both know, Little Flame."

He grinned as he sensed the effect that the name had on you. You face stayed neutral, it was your heartbeat that betrayed you. Eris had to admit it, even if you had just entered the game of scheming, courts and alliances you were doing a great job at it.

"I'm afraid I'm not following you." You said giving the room around you a bored look. He knew you were actually seeing if any of your court was listening to the two of you.

Eris had a vague idea of what would happen if you find out about the bond in the near future. You would be caution about it at first, then after few words with Mor and the Inner Circle you would decide to break it, and why wouldn't you? He was the villain in everyone's story, and he was fine with that. He didn't really plan to change that narrative in your head, yet. But he refused to sit still while you burned yourself in your own power and the Inner Circle did nothing to stop it.

"I could train you." He said suddenly serious. "If you are too ashamed to show your precious family what monstrous power you have, you should have no problem showing it to someone who is already considered a monster."

You arched an eyebrow. "Considered?" you asked ironically. "I recall hearing quiet thrutful stories about you for just considerating what you are."

He didn't pretend to be hurt by your words. He knew exactly what you had heard, what he had done, but obviously you couldn't know the whole true. No one did execpt for one. "Careful to let your new ears believe everything they say about me."

"Because you seem so much more trustfully." You said with a ironic smile that he immediately matched.

"Train with me a day every week, and I'll answer honestly to one question of your choice." He proposed before spunning you on your feet. "Maybe you'll make your own idea of me."

Those beautiful, careful eyes studied him, and he almost knelt right there. "Why would I accept? What do you gain from this?"

His grin widened. "I'm pleased to see that those brutes taught you something useful." He mused. "Let just say I think your power will play a key part to my...succesion on the throne, and I rather have you as my ally than my enemy."

You narrowed your eyes, surely pondering every single word he had said. "I won't do the dirty job for you."

Eris knew you meant killing his father, but of course you couldn't say it out loud since Keir was still around. He admired your quick thinking, and he was extremely glad that you were smart enought to guard yourself around people like himself.

He chuckled lowly. "That is a matter I'll deal with alone." He stated firmly and the fingers on your back lightly caressed you, assuringly. "I just ask for your help when my court will need it."

Eris would never admit out loud that he already know what kind of favour he would need from you. The idea had come up as the two of your were talking, but he knew that if he had proposed it right away you would have left him on the dancing floor without a second thought.

"One day of training everyweek with one question of my choice in exchange of my help, once, when you'll need it with your court?" You carefully stated looking cautionsly in his eyes.

He gave you a grin as he leaned his face closer to yours. "Do we have a bargain, Little Flame?"

He had to call all his hundreds years of training to not close his eyes as your scent hit his nose. It was sweet, like cinnamon and caramel. It was everything he recalled to like, to bring him joy.

He smelled the shift in your scent as your faces were dangerously close, and for the first time he was glad that you were new to this world because otherwise your would have smelled the shift in his scent too. And that, would have bring the two of you in a dangerous situation.

"Yes." you said after a while. He could see that you had thought of every outcome of that bargain, you probably had thought about how to tell the others, what reactions they would have and in how many ways it could end badly. "But you have to stop calling me that."

He laughed. "You should have put it into the conditions of the bargain before you accepted it."

As he said those words he felt something stung on his back. It felt like someone was writing something on his skin with fire. It didn't hurt, it was more like a tickle, and when he saw your hand flying from his shoulder to your back, scracthing the same part on your body that tickled on his, he knew that the bargain had been sealed.

The music ended and he gave you a bow, bringing your gloved hand to his lips. He could smell the burned flash, and a part of him wanted to kill Rhysand to have let you do it to yourself. But he only placed a gently kiss on it, sensing how you, elegantly, shivered and gave you a charming smile.

He studied you for a monent. Your eyes were looking at him with what was not surely kindness, but at the same time was not hatred too. You were trying to find your place in this new, cahotic world, he understood. His eyes traveled on your dress, and his jaw clenched. You would have been a beautiful living flame if it hadn't been concealed with black, somehow a represantion of how you wanted to conceal yourself to fit in that Court.

"Let me begin the training now with a little advise." Eris said still with your hand in his. Your eyes flashed with curious. "Do not follow blindly those who walk in front of you. You might find out that black is not the colout that suits you best."

He didn't wait for you to process his words as he gave you a last, parting smile and turned on his heels, already putting his mask back on. "See you next week, Little Flame." he mocked over his shoulder as he walked away.

He heard you curse him under your breath, and it only made him grin amused. He found it surprisingly fun to rile you up, it was a kind of amusement that he didn't feel with anyone else. He needed it as a reminder that his equal was indeed like him: fierce, smart, witty and always ready to fight when needed.

He walked toward Rhysand and Feyre, still seated on their thrones, already watching him with their calculated eyes. He was sure that they were probably having a mental conversation about what they had seen, and Eris fought the urge to smirk.

"Did you enjoy the company of my sister?" asked Feyre politely with a lazy smile. He had to admit that both her and Rhysand did a great job at acting like the rulers of the Court of Nightmares.

"Your sister's company had been delightful." He said matching her smile. Before asking them what he wanted he was curious to test the waters. "But I'm curious; you showed me what I can have, Rhysand. I'm intrigued enough to ask what you'd want in return."

He saw Feyre's jaw clenching. She would never sold her sister, and surely not to someone like him, but it was still fun to imply just that.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Rhysand not betraying a single thought that was in his mind.

"I mean that whatever you want, I'll give it to you if you promise to keep her safe and away from my father." Eris said suddenly serious.

He saw the confusion flashing on both rulers' face as they surely spoke to each other mind to mind. Eris knew he was letting them see too much, but it was the only way he could be sure that you would be safe as long as his father was alive. They needed to know in what danger you were if his father ever find out what you and Eris were.

"Explain yourself better." Feyre commanded with a cold voice.

He gave her a mocking grin. "You keep your oldest sister away from my father, and train her. and I'll give you whatever you want. You wanted to reassure our alliance? This is the prize."

"I cannot force her in doing anything she doesn't want to, but I can come up with the right arrangment for that." Rhysand said calmly. "But it seems foolish for you to offer me anything I want in exchange for...her safety. Why would you care so much about that?"

He could see that both Rhysand and Feyre were trying to understand what kind of game he was playing, what kind of tricks he had in mind, so he let his mind shield opening a little, inviting them in his head to speak the words that he could not say out loud.

"Because it seems that the Cauldron gave two Archeron sisters to the Night Court, and two to the Autumn Court." Eris said in his mind, knowing that they both were listening.

Feyre's face drained of colours as Rhysand's eyes hardned and his deep, dangerous voice sounded in his mind. "Why should we believe you?"

Eris smirked and let the memory of the day he had saved you fill his mind, letting them see it. He replied the moment the bond stirred inside him, urging him to run toward you. He made them see the exact moment your eyes met and his whole existence screamed the word Mate all over again. He made them see how he had foolishly followed you to the King of Hybern, keeping you safe until you had run to Nesta. He let them see how hard it had been to return to his father and hide eveything, how scared he had been when after the war he had been sat beside his father while you were right in front of him, terrified that any gaze might give him away. The last memory was of when he had found you outside the Autumn Court's camp, and he had been so close to grab you and winnow on the other side of Prythian, not wanting you close to his father in any way.

He stopped the memories just as the one of when you had cured him started to pop in his mind, and watched careful the reaction of the two rulers in front of him. "I cannot risk for the bond to snap for her when my father or any of his allies are close. He would hurt her to hurt me, and despide what you think of me, I won't let it happen."

Rhysand studied him with a heavy, dangerous attention. "I could keep her away from you and have you do anything I want just for the chance to see her, do you realize that?"

A test. Eris knew it was a test, because Rhysand would never do something like that, but still Eris couldn't help but laugh ironically. "It would be the first time you'd do something smart, Rhysand." he tilted his head in a mocking grin.

"You should speak of this matter with Feyre then." Rhysand stated, making a good job at sounding bored. "It's her sister you are mated with."

"I could have your head in any moment if I suspect you to be a danger for her." said Feyre in his head viciously.

"I would like to think that the bond would make your sister miss me a little if you do that." he answered ironically placing a hand on his heart. "But I'll give you everything else you need. After all you are my sister-in-the-cauldron, you might find out you'll have more advantages from this situation than your boring mate."

"Go away before I test that bond theory." threatened him Feyre making his grin grew wider.

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