#grandfather beron

[seleneprince]

Funny idea:

Beron has actually wanted to have daughters since forever. He only tolerated his sons because he needed an heir and back-up plans, but he never really wanted them. They were just another duty to him, and one of them was supposed to take on his legacy at some point, so he refused to be gentle while raising them. The future High Lord of Autumn should be a hardened man prepared for the worst and capable of enduring all kind of situations. If his sons couldn't go through some torture, then they were just unworthy of the throne. At least in his eyes.

A daughter was different. He would be free to spoil her and dote on her with no shame, because he didn't expect her to inherit the High Lord title. She didn't need the same "training". Of course, he would still want her to be useful to him and shape her into a valuable asset, but he'll still treat her better than he did with his sons. That said, the dynamic would still be toxic af and the girl would grow up traumatized as well.

(+Bonus for my Neris au):

When Nesta gave birth to the twin girls, everyone thought Beron would be heavily dissapointed and the poor babies won't be received well by him. Both Eris and Nesta were prepared for insulting comments and berating from the High Lord of Autumn. The other sons were really nervous as well, expecting the worst.

So imagine their shock when Beron not only welcomes his grandaughters warmly, but he even holds them and seems happy to see them. Eris can't remember an instance where his father had shown half of that gentleness and warmth with any of his brothers. Hell, he didn't even hold them at all, like the mere contact with the babies was repulsive to him.

And yet there he was, throwing his grandaughters casually in the air to make them laugh, having them on his lap while he spoke to courtiers, and boasting proudly whenever they burned anything with their powers. Going on and on about how the Vanserra bloodline remained strong.

The High Lady of Autumn was the only one unfazed by this behaviour.

"Your father always wanted to have daughters himself, after all. He's finally living that dream"

"So, he would've been a jerk if we had boys instead?"

"Don't be harsh, dear. If you had boys, he would've simply treat them like he treated you and your brothers when you were born"

Needless to say, Eris and Nesta were very happy that they had daughters instead, specially Eris.

But Beron's newly found grandfather love posed a problem. A big one.

"How are we going to proceed with the coup now? Our girls love him, it'll break their hearts if that asshole died! Nesta, what do we do?!"

[daycourtofficial]

It’s so quiet in the world tonight

Lucien x reader

Summary: you and Lucien having a quiet night at home, soaking in the peace, discussing how things will change when your baby arrives

Author’s note: kicking off my 1k celebration with my boy Lulu!!!

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

“I’m just excited to see a babe growing up around here,” Helion said, looking at your belly. Your father in law harbored a lot of regret about not being around for Lucien as a babe and not knowing that he was his until a few decades ago.

It took a long time, but they have a lovely bond and get along extremely well. Granted, neither of them had a hard time getting along with most.

Except Beron.

You smile at your father in law, excited to see him take on the role of grandfather.

“Except the name ‘grandfather’ will make me feel so ancient. Is there any other name I could use?”

He had been going back and forth ever since you told him the news. If anyone could make your pregnancy about themselves, it was Helion. You didn’t mind, though. It was much better than nursemaids and various citizens who insisted on asking how you were at all hours of the day.

It was kind of them, and you didn’t resent them that much, but sometimes you felt more like a traveling carnival attraction carrying the next heir of Day instead of a mother carrying her babe.

You couldn’t blame them - it was exciting. They didn’t get to cherish Lucien as he grew up, and so now they were taking the time to let you know how adored the two of you were amongst the citizens of Day.

Lucien was so loved in Day, and he had no issues making his interest in you known. In fact, one of his first acts as a member of Day’s royal court was courting you.

It made you incredibly glad you had declined Helion’s many previous offers to warm his bed.

A little over a decade into your marriage, the two of you decided to forego your fertility tonic, leaving things up to the Mother to decide. Six years later, you found yourself with a swollen belly, an excited husband, and two antsy high lords.

Eris’s frequent visits to his mother and brother made him the first person you had confided in about your pregnancy. It had been an accident, really. You had only figured it out a few hours earlier, and he happened to be the first person you saw.

It just came tumbling out of your mouth.

Eris had actually been extraordinarily kind following your outburst, after his initial taunt of “is this how you greet people now, sister?”

Lucien found you crying on Eris’s shoulder a few hours later, his brother’s well-tailored jacket tracked with your makeup. If Eris noticed, he didn’t let on.

“I didn’t know your first act as High Lord was to make my wife cry,” Lucien said, striding towards the two of you huddled on a couch.

Eris waves his hand in the air, “I managed to sign two treaties and lift an embargo before I came here to antagonize your wife. She wasn’t first on my list, brother.”

Lucien sits on the other side of you, placing his hand gently on your back, rubbing soothing circles.

“What’s wrong, sunshine? Was Eris’s company so troublesome it reduced you to tears?”

You crack a smile as Eris lifts your head off of his shoulder, delicately placing it on Lucien’s shoulder.

“How you wound me, Lu. I’ll be sending you the bill to have my jacket cleaned.”

Lucien’s surprise at Eris’s departure doesn’t last long, as he looks back to you, your tears having stalled for a moment.

“I- Lu, I- I’m pregnant.”

His eyes light up, and you can tell he loses control for a moment because his skin glows a radiant glow, his red hair almost blinding. He grabs your hands, placing them in his, as he asks, “is that why you were crying?”

You nod your head, the action causing a pain throughout your head.

“Are you worried?” He asks, concern on his features.

You stare into his eyes, his mechanical one whirring taking in everything about you. The look on his face told you your concerns were ill-founded, but they still tumbled out of your mouth.

“How are we going to teach them how to read? I’ve never taught anyone how to read.”

His brows furrow, and his eyes light with amusement.

“I think we have a few minutes before teaching them how to read, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

He pauses, cutting you off before you can speak again, “and I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to teach them how to count.”

You and Lucien had sat on that couch for hours, all of your worries melting away with your husband’s comforting words.

And the realization from Lu that you could, in fact, hire a tutor to teach the babe how to read.

The two of you had retired to your rooms after dinner with Helion, where he made zero progress with names for your babe to call him.

The name “Papa Hehe” was what led the two of you to excuse yourselves so you could laugh in private over how much thought he was putting into the names.

Lucien helped you out of your dress, pulling it over your head.

“You know,” he says, putting the dress away and picking up one of your nightgowns, “my taking your dress off is how we ended up here.”

You push his chest lightly, “Lu, I’m so swollen I can hardly walk down the corridors.”

His smirk turns feline, “I never said you had to move.”

“I’m due any day now,” you tell him.

“I heard that pleasure can help induce labor,” he whispers in your ear, tucking hair behind it.

You laugh into Lucien’s mouth as he kisses you, holding you as close as the bump would allow him to. You let him guide you to the bed, and he helps you lay down on your back, your hair adorning the pillow behind you in a halo.

Lucien’s hand caressed your swollen belly, receiving a light kick in response.

“And pray tell, what is my baby girl doing awake at this hour?”

You roll your eyes, giving up ages ago on correcting him. Neither of you had any inkling as to the sex, but Lucien was convinced it was a babygirl.

“She got confused and thought we lived in the Night Court.”

Lucien chuckles as he drags his hands up your thigh, delicately placing kisses up your calf and up your thigh, your moans spurring him on further.

And damn it all if Lucien wasn’t right about his baby girl, who arrived about twelve hours later.

[booksandfantasies]

Do you ever think about how well connected Elucien's children will be? Their grandfather is the High Lord of the Day Count. Their aunt and uncle are the High Lady and High Lord of the Night Court. And their other uncle will be the High Lord of the Autumn Court (because let's be honest, Eris is going to find a way to get rid of Beron before the series is over). Nobody is going to be messing with those children.

[mcuamerica]

Legacy | Eris x Reader

For Eris Week 2024 - Day 2: Childhood | Legacy @erisweekofficial

Summary: Eris and his mate have two girls, but Eris starts to doubt his ability as a father as you’re about to have a boy. 

Warnings: parental abuse (Beron), child near-drowning (let me know if I missed anything!)

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

Calida and Rhea ran around the Forest House garden. Callie stuck to the areas near the bushes while Rhea played by the brook, always so much closer to water than Callie. It was a trait that you nor Eris had a clue where it came from but Rhea loved the water. If you didn’t know better, you would think she was a daughter of Summer and not Night and Autumn. Nonetheless, you were both proud to call her your daughter. Callie too. 

Eris frowned as he watched Rhea stumble into the small brook, sitting up in his chair to prepare to help her. 

He paused, a memory of when he was a child flashing through his mind. 

Lucien was showing Eris how he caught fish. A mere boy of 10. He had no business being in the river. Certainly not when a dam suddenly broke and rushed the water towards him. Eris was too late, watching as his youngest brother was devoured by the waves. As we went to help, his father’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Do not help him,” he said sternly. 

Eris looked up, frowning. “What do you mean? He will drown.” A slap for the talk back fell upon his cheek. He was used to it, should’ve known better. 

“If he does, then he is no son of mine.” He said and frowned as he watched the red haired boy fight against the raging water. Eris looked towards the broken dam, frowning at the singed bark around the edges. His father. Beron had broken the dam. Knowing Lucien would drown. 

Eris turned towards his father. “Mother will be-“

“Your mother will not say anything.” Beron said, his hand coming up to Eris’s throat. “Shall I throw you into the water as well? See how well you survive, Eris?” He growled. 

Eris shook his head, taking a deep breath as his father released his throat. “Let him die… or save him and face the consequences of ensuring the weakness of your brother. Of my legacy.” He growled. 

Eris watched as Lucien struggled. He could swim. Not well… but he could. He was struggling to stay afloat… and being pulled further down the river. To the waterfall. Damn the consequences, he wasn’t going to let his brother die because his father was a bastard. 

He ran towards the river, leaping in after Lucien. He helped Lucien to the shore, his arm wrapping against his waist. Lucien coughed out water as they reached the shore. Just as he was about to say thank you to his brother, Eris was snatched out of the water by Beron. 

“Find your way home.” Beron growled to Lucien then winnowed away from him, Eris’s dripping body going with him. 

Eris received the beating of his life that night. And two days afterwards. Lucien was fine, but was forbidden to see Eris for weeks. What did it say about Eris that his daughters never experienced such things? It was good, they never met their grandfather. Never knew the abuse he endured. But did that make him weak? For keeping it to himself? 

Just as he had the thought, Callie ran over to her, helping her up. 

“You okay?” Her small voice asked, ever the protective older sister. 

Rhea frowned at a rock beneath her foot. “It tripped me.” She said, crossing her arms. 

Eris let out a small chuckle, leaning back as he watched his girls talk. They ran off together, two of his (their) hounds running after them. He looked over his shoulder as you slept on the bed, perched up by a few pillows so your pregnant stomach would be supported. He still wasn’t sure how you two had managed to get pregnant so close in years, but he wasn’t complaining. 

He loved you so much it hurt. And he loved your two girls even more, if it was possible. Though, you know your were having a boy this time around. And a boy was different. 

Raising the girls was new. There was nothing for him to compare to… his father raised all boys, if you call what he did raising… The girls were different. They were bright and soft and strong and full of life. And he knew his little boy would be too. But… his father raised so many boys. And all but two were truly decent. If Eris counted himself decent. 

Would he be different towards his boy? Treat him harder? Worse than his girls? Would be expect more from him just because he was a male? 

The inner turmoil raced through his head, so much that it was communicated down the bond to you. 

You stirred from your afternoon nap, seeing Eris chewing on his lip. It was a quirk he didn’t show often but when he did you knew something was wrong. 

You slowly got out of the bed. You were 8 months pregnant, very much ready to be done with the pregnancy and have your little boy in your arms. But something was bothering Eris. And that was something you needed to fix. If only because you wanted to go back to sleep. 

“Eris.” You whispered, a hand resting on his shoulder. 

Eris barely moved, his eyes glancing up to you. “Are you well, my love?” He asked you. 

A small smile danced on your lips. “I should be asking you that. You’re a nervous wreck. Are the girls okay?” You asked. 

“They’re perfect… that’s the problem.” He said. 

A confused frowned made its way to your face with a slight tilt of your head. 

“It’s just… What if the girls are this way because… I’m meant to raise girls. Because my father-“ Eris took a shaky breath. “My father raised terrible sons. What if I do the same?” He asked. 

“Eris… are you the only one raising them?” You asked, walking to stand in front of him. His only answer was a shake of the head. “Are you planning to raise our boy differently?” Another shake of the head. “And will you love him just as much as you love our girls?” Another one.. “Then why would you raise a terrible son?” 

His eyes finally met yours, amber burning into violet. “Because I don’t know how to raise a son.”

“You didn’t know how to raise a daughter until 10 years ago,” you said, cupping his cheek. “And now you have two. Maybe not perfect, but damn good daughters. Who love you more than anything.” You said. “And I would not decide to have a child with you, male or female, if I thought you would make a bad father.” 

Tears lined his eyes. “But my father-“

“Was a terrible man… and you, Eris Vanserra, are not your father. Not by a long shot.” You said and leaned down, pressing your lips to his. “Don’t you forget that.” You whispered before turning away from him. “Let’s go get the girls, I’m hungry and we should make some apple crisp.” You said. 

Eris followed after you, soon seeing the girls wrap themselves around your legs. And when he looked at the three of you, and soon to be fourth growing in your belly, he knew this would be his legacy. The strong, loving family you built together. And he was proud to have it.

A/N: I love the thought of Eris being a girl dad (and being amazing at it) but being insecure when a boy rolls around... ugh I love him.

[erissheiress]

I Swear It

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Warnings: 1 swear word, implications of postpartum depression (barely mentioned), Beron (barely), angst, arguing, happy ending

Summary: Eris has been on a mission for a while, and comes back to find his family struggling. (Also introduction of my child OC's)

Word Count: 1421

Taglist: @reetriestbr @pandabiiissh

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Your mother in law sat before you, cradling her youngest grandchild in her arms. The fire was dying slowly, but neither of you paid it much attention, instead letting it gradually fade by itself. Winter had arrived and made its presence known immediately, barely allowing time for the Autumn Court to transition into the colder months. Cold days like this were more suited for staying indoors by the fire with those you love, drinking mugs of hot chocolate or tea, and quietly basking in each other's presence.

You watched your baby coo softly in her grandmother’s arms, her little noises making your heart burst. In your own arms, your eldest two children nestled into your side, their fists clinging to your dress. The scene was almost perfect, besides lacking one detail. Your husband and your children’s father, Eris, had been away for weeks now, fulfilling his duties as Heir to the Autumn Court with his father.

Every night you'd go to bed alone, and wake up with two pairs of arms around you, little elbows prodding your stomach. Before, you would be awakened by gentle kisses on your skin, but now sleepy mumbling and soft cries pulled you from your slumber each morning.

You truly missed Eris, but had to get used to being without him for the time being. His absence was mostly felt through your children, when they'd seek your comfort, missing their father.

At least your youngest child, your darling girl, was unaffected, although the lack of a relationship between her and Eris worried you slightly, as he had to leave only a couple of months after her birth. She slept soundly across the room, and you pushed the worries to the back of your mind, lest they overwhelm you completely.

"Mama?" Your second child, Hugo, mumbled, rubbing his bleary eyes with his fist. 

"Yes, my love?"

"Is Daddy home yet?"

Across from you, your mother in law quietly sighed, knowing what your answer would be. She knew all too well what an absent father did to a young child.

"Not yet, baby, soon." You brushed a hand over his red curls, an inherited gift from his father.  Hugo just nodded, burrowing further into your side. In the distance, a grandfather clock chimed, and you took a deep breath.

"Time for bed, I think." 

Maeve and Hugo couldn't even argue, too worn out from their snow day, bellies full of hot chocolate, marshmallows, and gingerbread. Slowly you sat up, pulling Hugo into your arms, and holding Maeve's hand to guide her to her own bed. They kissed their grandmother and their baby sister, before allowing themselves to be put to bed by you.

"G'night, Mama."

"Night, Mama."

"Goodnight, my loves." Quietly slipping out, and back down the corridor. The Lady of the Autumn Court was standing now, smiling down at baby Alysa. 

"I think it's time for me to retire as well, love," She said, carefully handing you your daughter.

"Of course, sleep well." You kissed her cheek and watched her leave, leaving you alone with Alysa in the firelit room. "I think it's time we go, princess, don't you agree?" Her nose twitched in her sleep and your heart grew in size.

"I'll take that as a yes then. You've had a long, hard day." You continued to whisper to her as you walked down the corridor, nonsensical comments. Talking to your baby was supposed to improve their speech in the future, you had read, and you found yourself enjoying your one-sided chats with your daughter. Especially when she gazed up at you with those beautiful, familiar eyes. 

The fire was lighting in your room, a maid clearly having just been there, for which you were grateful. Slowly, you lowered her into her bassinet, stroking her soft cheeks.

The door opened softly. Quiet footsteps. You didn't turn around.

"How is she sleeping?" Eris' voice was quiet in the dimly lit room.

"Fine, she sleeps through the night, thankfully."

"I'll get her if she does wake up."

"She doesn't like strangers." A low blow, but necessary. Where was Eris when Alysa cried her tiny lungs out and Hugo and Maeve cried from the overwhelming noise? Where was he when you were so exhausted and overwhelmed that you sobbed into your pillow in the early days of his departure, or when the postpartum feelings lasted longer than they had after your first two births.

"I'm not a stranger…"

"You held her as a newborn, she won't remember you. She barely tolerates the maids that have been there since her birth."

"Darling…" a hand on your shoulder, turning you around.

"What, Eris? What do you want me to say? That I missed you? That I was drowning when you left? You cannot just return all of a sudden and expect things to be as they were. Maeve and Hugo miss you desperately, Alysa doesn't know you, and I… "

"And you?"

"I needed you." Your voice was barely audible as you confessed, avoiding his eyes. “This recovery…has not been like the others. Your father-”

“What about him? Has he done something?” Eris’ eyes flamed, his mind clearly racing with possibilities of his father’s actions.

“No, Eris, he has not. He visited after you left, to see the children. Hugo received most of his attention, of course. Called him your heir.”

“He knows that Maeve is my heir. She is the eldest.”

“It hardly matters. Hugo is a male, and that is all Beron sees. Otherwise, his visit was fine. Nice to have company, no matter how awful the person.” Another earned blow.

“I will see him.”

“So he can give you another reason to leave?”

“Y/N, please, I had no choice.”

“I know that! You had no choice, I’m fucking aware, what I’m frustrated about is that you expect things to be the same as they were. Did you think I would not be angry?” 

Alysa stirred, making soft noises in her sleep, reminding you to keep your voice down. 

“I will make it up to you. To our children.”

A wave of exhaustion washed over you. Exhaustion, frustration, and also acceptance. “I’m tired, I’m going to bed.”

Eris looked uncertain, standing in his own room. “May I-”

“I don’t care, Eris, sleep wherever you want. She’ll wake in a few hours to be fed, anyway.”

“My love, I can’t sleep if you are upset with me.”

“I’m just tired. So, so tired. Goodnight, Eris.”

No more was said, sleep hitting you almost immediately, the exhaustion of motherhood more powerful than your frustration. When Alysa awoke, Eris was not in the room.

. . . 

For the first time in a while, you woke up in an empty bed. Alysa cried softly, soothing easily once you picked her up from her crib and put her to your breast. You quietly walked down the corridor, to your children’s shared room, until they get older. 

Eris was in Maeve’s bed, his tall body barely fitting in her small bed. She was held tight in his arms, as Hugo lay on Eris’ strong chest. The three of them slept soundly. Alysa’s cry made Eris’ eyes flutter, making eye contact with you. 

“You look comfortable.”

“So comfortable,” he said, looking the exact opposite. “I went to Beron last night.”

“You did?”

“No more missions for a time, not until I make up for my actions. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you after Alysa, I’m sorry that she doesn’t know me. Please, my love, not sleeping with you was torture.” He got up slowly, careful not to wake up Maeve or Hugo. Walking to you, holding your face in his calloused palms.

“I needed you…” gradually the wall began to crumble, as tears began to stream down your face. You held your baby girl close, a protection of sorts.

Eris looked like he was on the verge of tears as well, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I have failed you, without a doubt. I will make it up to you, my love, if you’ll let me.”

He took Alysa from your arms, carefully holding her in one arm, using the other to pull you in close. “A second did not pass where I did not think of you. I’m so sorry.”

“Please, stay.”

“I will, my love, I’ll never hurt you like that again.”

“I love you.” Wiping the tears from your face, looking up at your mate, the father of your children.

“I love you too, darling. I am yours forever. I swear it.”

[szalonykasztan00]

All of the Vanserra brothers have like at least 1 illegitimate child and Eris is hiding them all from Daddy Beron because his (Eris's) got killed on Beron's order.

So no one knows for sure which one is Gwyneth's grandfather but it is one of them. All that are alive adopt her Mamma Mia style when Daddy Beron is dead.

[danikamariewrites]

omg omg omg omg omg i just read your fic with lucien x reader and her being dark and stuff.

please can i request one for eris x reader where she kills beron to free eris from his troubles. Reader has some hidden power/is much more powerfull than beron, and when she sees how much stress eris is put through she vows to fix it for him and to not let anyone or anything disturb his peace. she lures beron into the foresthouse and fights with him, she manipulates him into thinking he’s winning but turns around and he is so surprised and enraged. She finally kills him off and skips back to eris to deliver the news. she is internally beaming and quite literally could never he happier to see the weight of eris shoulder lift. Next time they meet with the nightcourt, they ask who did it but eris doesn’t know. Rhys looks to reader who faintly smiles and senses her great power, rivaling his own, and smirks. She then tells eris on their way back she did it👀👀👀

Song of Death

Eris x reader

Warnings: death, violence, kinda dark reader

Eris was at his breaking point with his father. Beron had made some…unpredictable moves as of late. They had thrown Eris off his game and made it harder for his plan to take down the current High Lord.

You had told your mate that he should take a few days away from the Forest House. You’d be fine by yourself. It took a while but Eris conceded. He planned a hunting trip with a few sentries set to accompany him.

You had it all planned out. The full moon was on the third day of Eris’s trip. Leaving you enough time to taunt and lure Beron to his death.

See, Beron constantly underestimates you. He thinks you are nothing more than Eris’s ditsy lover. Most people in the court did. You did a wonderful job at hiding your powers. Your mother was a witch, as well as your grandmother and great grandmother. But you had also been blessed with the Sirens Song. Your great grandfather had helped you perfect your song.

For two nights you danced through the halls by Beron’s quarters, singing your sweet song to make him curious. The farthest he wandered was the end of his hall. You could tell he wanted to search for you. His need to be sated by your voice over coming his senses.

The full moon was bright in the cloudless night. It shined through the tall windows of the throne room. You basked in the light, swaying slightly as you sang the alluring tune. Sending out your magic to see where Beron is you see him stumbling out of his room like a mad man. Sword in hand Beron straightens up. Sweat beading on his forehead Beron’s face contorts in anger.

He sees Eris, wearing his crown and sitting on his throne. Moments later Beron was shoving his way through the grand double doors growling at the hallucination of his first born perched on the throne. Pointing his sword at the empty chair he spits out, “You’ve overstepped boy. That’s not yours.”

“Not yet.” Your voice echoed with the illusion of Eris’s. Your mate stood, giving Beron a mocking smirk as he slowly stalked toward him.

Eris drew his sword from its place at his hip, spinning the steel and swooning at him. Beron swung close and high just barley avoiding Eris. You could see he was already losing his strength. Your spell taking its toll on him.

Dropping the illusion of Eris Beron faltered. He whipped his head around wildly. Confused as to where his son went. You started your song again. Beron turned to you one last time. His eyes widen in shock.

A wicked smirk pulled at your lips. Lifting your glowing hands you control Beron’s movements, dragging your hand swiftness across your throat.

Beron let out a choking sound as blood spilled from his throat. His head barley hanging on to his neck as his body dropped to the pristine marble floor. Letting out a content sigh you stepped over Beron’s body to walk back to your quarters.

He was found the next morning. Sentries had rushed into your room along with your handmaidens. They stayed with you all morning and afternoon. They distracted you from the tragedy that had occurred late last night. Satine, your head handmaiden, made sure you were in one of your favorite dresses and took her time doing your hair in an intricate braid.

Eris was rushed back. A handmaiden had informed you the High Lord power had come to Eris soon after Beron died. It was hours before you saw your mate again. You could feel his thundering heartbeat in your own chest. His anxiety was running rampant and you could feel his concern for you.

When he stormed past the sentries and finally laid eyes on you his shoulders relaxed. “My love.” He breathed out. Eris crossed the room in a few strides scooping you into his arms and collapsing on the bed. “Leave us.” He commanded your handmaidens and sentries.

You cling to each other for a long while. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sweet fox. I was so worried about you when I heard. Worried that whoever did this got to you or my mother.” You calming run your fingers through his short hair. “We’re ok baby.” You pulled away from him, cupping his face. “How are you feeling. I can’t imagine what you felt when the power hit you. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

He let out a breathy chuckle giving you a wide teary eyed smile, “It’s ok fox. I’m ok.”

The next few weeks were consumed by meetings with advisors, other courts, High Lords, and the Vanserra family. As the weeks passed a weight seemed to lift from Eris’s shoulders. Eris became closer with his brothers and his mother was free. The two of you are free.

Days before his coronation Eris was quite pensive. You were a bit concerned with how Eris had pulled away from you. You knocked on his office door. “Eris,” You poke your head in his office. He snaps out of his trance, blinking at you. “Come in fox. What’s wrong?” You shake your head as you sit across from him. “Nothing, I’m just worried about you. You’ve been distant.”

Eris leans back and takes in a deep breath. “The investigation into my fathers death has been confusing to say the least. There were no intruders, no guards saw what happened, and everyone in house was accounted for.” You bite your lip at his words. Leaning forward you place your forearms on his desk.

“I must confess something to you my love.” Now it was Eris’s turn to lean forward. Curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “I am responsible for Beron’s death.” His eyes go wide with shock. “Y/n…I’m not understanding.”

“Im going to show you but, you have to promise not to be angry with me.” Eris’s face changes to confusion. You lift your hands letting the light shine just a little from your hands as you hum that familiar tune. You stop before Eris can be feel the full effect of the Siren Song.

You avoided his gaze, keeping your eyes glued to the floor. He rounds the desk grasping your chin between his fingers. Eris tilts your face to look up at him. His love for you shining on his face. “You truly did it.” You nod, keeping your face neutral. “I did it for you. For us Eris.”

Your mate dropped to his knees in front of you. “Y/n…” He seemed lost for words as his smile grew. “Together we’ll be perfect my love.” Eris nods enthusiastically. “Thank you fox. I didn’t think I could love you anymore than I already do.”

Slipping off the leather arm chair you wrap your arms around Eris’s neck. As High Lord and Lady change would come to Autumn. And you’d be unstoppable.

[readychilledwine]

Eris Week - Day 2: High Lord | Heir

Relief

Prompt - How does Eris de-stress and cope with his new responsibilities as the High Lord? Does he have any personal hobbies, rituals, or places of solace?

Summary - Amelia has begun to notice Eris is hiding away in the library more and more as his duties as high lord begin to pick up. Hoping to reconnect with her mate and husband, she offers him the one outlet she knows has always brought Eris calm and relaxation.

Warnings - unedited (as always,) alcohol use, sexual situations (not full on smut)

A/N - Happy day two of @erisweek2023 my fellow Vanserra lovers 💜 I'm welcoming Amelia back into my posts. I'm excited to bring the story of these two lovers to life soon.

Eris leaned back into the oversized chair he had begun to sit in nightly. He always found the silence of the libraries late into the night was one of the only things that calmed his mind, but it had become his haven now after days of long grueling meetings, fights with his brothers, and court relationship repairs he felt were never ending.

He sighed as he read the history of his family one more time. A note pad of things the long line of Vanserras had been praised for or that improved the court was littered with his quick scratched handwriting. He jotted down a long note regarding a great great grandfather's laws on the yearly tithe versus a slow taxation system that allowed fae to pay taxes over the year instead of in one lump sum. He had been praised for it, and Eris desperately sought that praise from the fae in his realm.

He felt the bond tug in his ribcage. He waited before tugging it back, hoping his mate would just stay in their room tonight. He had so much work, and even if he knew this was beginning to eat at their relationship, he needed to finish it. They had not spent a night together since Beron's death, they had not laid together since weeks leading to his death. They hardly ate together or saw each other in the past month. Another harsher tug came, and he ignored it.

The large oak door opened, causing him to pause slightly before continuing his cross research from a book Helion had loaned him on Day Court tax practices. His staff would leave the young High Lord. After he had accidentally snapped at a poor kitchen girl, they knew to allow their budding High Lord moments of silence and time. His mate, however, she had no shame in bugging his husband. Another tug came from the bond, closer this time, causing Eris to pause mid page turn. Amelia smiled softly at him as he looked up from his book.

She slowly pulled the crystal decanter of whiskey and glass out from behind her back. "Would you like this?" Eris was frozen as he took in Amelia's outfit, or lack of. Her tanned golden skin was exposed. Red lace adorning her curves along with a silky red robe. Her long sandy blonde hair was falling in waves around her reaching her hips. Pretty black heels graced her feet, making her legs look even longer.

The double meaning to her words did not slip past his mind. He felt his throat going tight as he swallowed thickly. "Of course I do. What did I do to deserve this lovely treat?" He had hoped his voice was hiding how aroused he was.

"You have been working so hard," Amelia set the whiskey decanter and fine crystal glass down on the table next to him. "Locked away in your office for hours at a time," she moved his book out of his hands, setting it down as well before straddling his lap. "Forced to deal with cranky old males who feel you aren't doing well enough," she kissed his lips quickly, "I felt your stress peaking today during the meeting with your advisors, and I thought to myself, "hmm what does my mate love? What would make him so very happy?" And then I remembered this pretty little thing, and I may have stolen your favorite whiskey from Rhysand. And the glass. And the decanter."

Eris chuckled slightly, his eyes lighting up at her smile. "You stole from the Night Court uncaught?" She hummed and nodded before kissing his lips lightly.

He then groaned, his head falling back as Amelia turned slightly, brushing against him just enough to cause the High Lord to lose himself and his composure. She poured the stolen whiskey into the crystal glass and set the decanter back down, her breasts near his face as she reached.

"I want to help you destress," she handed him the glass, watching as he brought it to his lips, eyes glued on her. He watched as she lowered her lips to his neck and began to slowly kiss along his pulse point.

He needed to regain control of the situation. The thought of anyone, a male especially, seeing his mate like this was enough to make him want to burn the world down one place at a time. "Amelia, we are in the library. We can-"

One of her fingers came to his lips as she ground down on him. "Just relax, Eris. The servants are all in bed. I banished them for the night. I told them to all go enjoy a night off at the tavern on us." He threw his head back, groaning loudly again as she began to grind down on him again.

He took another drink. Sighing contently as her small hands began to unbutton his shirt. Her long nails ran the pale skin of his chest. Digging just enough to make him moan out again. He knew what she was doing, what she was offering. And in this moment, Eris was more than happy to take it from her.

"If you want to help me relax, little bunny," Eris paused, gripping her hip tightly with one hand and pulling her long hair with the other. "Then get on your knees." He smirked as she got down and went between his knees, watching as he untied his leathers to free himself from his pants.

Her hands went behind her back, like he had trained her to do, and she looked up at him, eyes wide in submission. "Such a good girl for your high lord," Eris purred as he ran his hands through her hair and held it in one hand. "Now open your mouth."

[macel625]

Gwyn's Birth Lineage

I'm hoping her grandfather is Eris because his reaction was kind of suspicious when Rhys asked if he could go as far as taking Eris's firstborn and Eris seemed kind of freaked out by that

If Gwyn's mother was sent from the Forest House to Sangravah, did "Eris" ever visit her? Does he know about Gwyn and Catrin, but didn't do anything about it as for fear that Beron may find out?

As for her father, I believe he is from the Day Court because Gwyn has been seen glowing multiple times, and light is one of their main source of powers

We don't know where Sangravah is, but I saw someone say that it could be between the Day Court and the Night Court

Catrin, her twin, is described to have onyx hair

Helion is described as having onyx hair. I'm assuming that all his people may have onyx hair, too

It wouldn't have made sense if one of Eris's younger brothers turned out to be her grandfather. That would be useless as we don't even know their names, and they barely make an appearance, anyway

Plus, imagine if Eris was her grandfather and Azriel her mate. These two could have a chance to reconcile after what happened to Mor 🤷‍♀���

And, Gwyn may have inherited powers from both Autumn and Day, though I'm leaning more towards Day

[areyoudreaminof]

A Symphony of Crickets

Late at night, Lucien talks with his infant daughter and reflects on his newfound family. @lucienweekofficial Day 5: Family

“Bah! Bah bah bah!”

Resting on his upturned knees, the fat, red headed baby stared back at Lucien with the same russet eyes he had.

His daughter.

“Bah awah!” She squealed, her eyes wide, her fat little legs kicking every which way.

“It’s too late for that little cricket! We need to sleep.” he laughed, kissing her small, chubby fists.

The clock had just struck midnight, Elain had dozed off next to him in their bed after nursing their daughter. But the little girl didn’t want to sleep, oh no, she took after her grandfather in that respect. She refused to sleep at night, she wanted to play and talk. She chirped and babbled like a cricket as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon. So, in the dim Fae lights, listening to the soft nocturnal noise outside, Lucien talked with his daughter.

“Did you have fun with Uncle Eris today, little cricket? He brought you more toys than you need.” he laughed softly as she squealed in agreement.

Six months had flown by, she was happy and lively and Lucien couldn’t believe he had helped make her, that she was a part of him. Her skin was golden and soft, red hair sat on her head in a thicket of curls. His own russet eyes stared back at him, rimmed with thick brown lashes but she had Elain’s nose and rosebud lips. She even had the same dimples on both cheeks. The healers said she’d be petite like her mother. Beneath her new baby sent, she smelled of honeysuckles and fresh grass, something so uniquely her.

They had not expected a child so quickly, certainly not after Koschei and the lake, and not after finding out that Helion was his true father and being declared as the heir to the Day Court. Elain and Lucien had been thrust from one change to another in such rapid succession that it felt like a dream, half expecting they’d wake up back at the manor again. They’d only accepted their bond a few months before they faced Koschei and they had just been happy to survive that ordeal. They had never expected all of this.

He and Elain had expressed their fears to each other throughout the entire pregnancy. Elain did not want to be as neglectful and cold as her own mother, and Lucien’s blood ran cold thinking of how Beron treated him. Would he have had this fear if he had been raised by Helion? He knew he would never, could never treat any child like Beron had treated him, but the fear still whispered in his ear late at night, on the edge of sleep.

Then, on a warm spring morning, she was born, screaming and healthy. Her arrival came with the dawn, the sun's rays seeming to stretch just for her. The world stopped as the healer placed his daughter in his arms for the first time. Another golden thread wrapped around his heart, a thread old and ancient. In that moment, Lucien knew he would be, that he was better than Beron. He could be the father he always wanted and he would never, ever let his daughter feel unloved for a moment. He and Elain had done a very good job of it so far, he thought. Despite her fears, Elain took to motherhood as easy as breathing. And Lucien felt so much peace and love amidst the sleepless nights. He had a family. A mate and a child, he had a father that claimed him, and his mother was here. He even had his eldest brother again.

In a strange way, his daughter had brought them all together.

Helion had sobbed when he held her for the first time. The High Lord of Day, his father, had expressed his own regret and loss for not knowing of Lucien’s true connection to him, but the beginning of their relationship was awkward as his son was now a grown male. But Helion swore he would not miss a moment for his granddaughter. He had wanted to throw the biggest party the Day Court had ever seen, but Lucien and Elain declined, simply wanting their daughter to be with her grandfather, without the pomp and circumstance.

No, Feyre, Rhys and the entire Inner Circle had brought their own pomp and circumstance for their new niece and cousin. Nyx refused to let anyone else hold the baby when he was around. “She’s my baby!” The toddler had hissed at anyone who walked by. Feyre and Nesta bawled and bickered over her, while Cassian swooped in and stole the little bundle from their arms at random. And Rhys, the High Lord of the Night Court, had spared no expense at providing his new niece with the most elaborate cradle of pine, carved with foxes chasing the sun. Mor had supplied a very frilly and pink wardrobe for the first year. “Oh, a little girl!” She had sighed, as she clapped her red lacquered nails together. Even Azriel had come, presenting a small, soft floral blanket with little rabbits and foxes running through the stems.

Jurian and Vassa, far off as Queen and General Regent of Scythia could not come, due to Vassa being far into her own pregnancy, but they wrote and promised to see each other again as soon as they were able. Lucien missed his old Band of Exiles, and he and Elain were desperate to meet their son, Altan and introduce their daughter to her human family.

Eris came alone when she was a week old. He left his new High Lord duties behind at the Forest House. Lucien had not seen him since the lake, when Eris struck down Beron in the throws of that final bloody battle at dawn. His stoic and cold older brother wept silently when the little babe opened her eyes and curled her small hand around his pale finger. “He lost Lucien,” Eris had said as he stared into her open eyes, “He doesn’t get her. He doesn’t get us anymore. He will never corrupt her.” Eris had come every week since, just to hold her, talk to her, and now as she grew, play with her. Today, he had walked her around the gardens, “I had a very terrible meeting with the courtiers today, dearest.” Lucien had heard him say to the baby, as she cooed and babbled in sympathy. He had officially announced her birth at court, giving his daughter full Autumn citizenship, much to everyone’s shock.

But it was when he presented the baby to his mother, placing her first grandchild in her arms and telling her he and Elain had named the babe for the sister she had lost so long ago, Mathilde, that Lucien felt the weight of the world off his shoulders. His mother’s face, closed off for so long, opened in a way Lucien had never seen. Lucien could not recall his mother smiling in quite the same way before. “She is perfect.” His mother had whispered, “Just perfect.” Now, his mother officially lived at the palace, finally able to accept her bond with Helion, living the peaceful life she had always deserved.

Next to him, Elain stirred. “Is she still awake?” she asked sluggishly, “She can’t still be hungry.”

“No, our little cricket was just telling me all about the Autumn Court secrets Uncle Eris shared with her.” Lucien said as he tickled her fat little tummy, delighting in the deep belly laugh she unleashed.

“Cricket, huh? I really like that.” Elain mused as she snuggled closer into Lucien, and swept back Mathilde’s curls. “It suits her.”

“Are you Cricket then, my darling?” Lucien asked. The baby babbled in a reply, “Well, I think that settles it. Now, if you can say Papa, we can sleep!” Lucien wanted to be Papa, not Father, a title so stiff and formal. Likewise Elain preferred Mama, and they had taken bets of who would get that first word.

“Hmmm, you keep telling yourself that, Lucien. Ma-Ma.” Elain said, emphasizing the m as Cricket stared at her with a wide eyed expression. Lucien grasped her chubby legs, getting her attention. “Pa-Pa, Cricket! Pa-Pa.”

“Pah-bah!”

His heart stopped at first, then rapidly began to beat. He heard Elain gasp, before he heard it again.

“Pah-bah! Pah-bah!” Cricket sang as she smiled and waved her limbs around. “Pah-bah!”

Lucien felt the tears stream down his cheeks before he registered he was crying. Sweeping his daughter up, he and Elain kissed her over and over again. Defeating a death god, escaping his brothers, being thrown out of home and land, Lucien forgot it all. No old guilt and anxiety festered deep in the corners of his thoughts. No memories sought to poison his happiness. No, it was pure joy Lucien felt the moment he heard his daughter say Papa with recognition and delight in her eyes.

Lucien only knew he was here with his mate, who loved him, and his daughter who knew him.

His Elain and his little Cricket.

Taglist: @xtaketwox @wilde-knight @bellatrixship @carmasi @conebrain @corcracrow @damedechance @exinewine @foundress0fnothing @goddess-aelin @gaeleria @itsthedoodle @kataravimes-of-the-shire @krem-does-stuff @kingofsummer93 @lidiacervos @lucienarcheron @labellefleur-sauvage @lovingelucien @melting-houses-of-gold @mossytrashcan @octobers-veryown @popjunkie42-blog @panicatthenightcourt @reverie-tales @rosanna-writer @spell-cleavers @starsreminisce @separatist-apologist @thesistersarcheron @thelovelymadone @the-lonelybarricade @ultadverb @vulpes-fennec @velidewrites @fieldofdaisiies @c-e-d-dreamer @asnowfern @sanfangirl @secret-third-thing @witch-and-her-witcher @iftheshoef1tz @talons-and-teeth

[seleneprince]

My works

Six of Crows:

The Ballad of Lions and Crows (re-telling of what could've happened with the characters of Filip and Saskia Hertzoon from the books):

Contains: Six of Crows typical violence, mentions of sexual assaults and abuse, friends-to-enemies-to-lovers trope (well, more like fake friends to enemies), enemies-to-friends-to-lovers trope, misogyny, children going to extremes for survival. You'll see the rest.

Magische Linten (Magic Ribbons) - Kaz/Saskia centric

Grote Broers (Big Brothers) - Filip/Jordie centric, male oc!/Inej mentioned? coming soon...

Hogwarts verse:

Snape's werewolf daughter

Personal file

Memes:

#1 #2

All The Young Snakes (The Marauders era but from the Slytherin gang's POV):

Headcanons:

Fem! Severus Snape headcanons

Fem! Severus faceclaims

Snape's gang chilling

Sevity friendship

Besties judging together

Pandora and Barty

Snape's gang introduction

Memes:

#1 #2

Incorrect quotes:

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #6 #7 #8

Evan & Sevrina's daughter:

#1

Acotar

A Court of Shadows and Blood (Acotar retelling where Rhysand finds Nesta when she crosses the Wall for Feyre)

A Court of Flames and Vipers (Bunch of Neris/Autumn court headcanons mixed with some of my au)

Headcanons:

Beron Vanserra as grandfather

Vanserra-Archeron children shenanigans

Neris' daughters

Pregnancy thoughts

How ACOSF should've gone

A Court of Nightmares and Deceit (Nesta is dropped at Hewn City and thrives against all odds)

General summary

The Crow

[mycadences]

I keep thinking about how Gwyneth "See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger" Berdara and Lucien "She is my mate" Vanserra are both redhead High Fae with Autumn Court ancestry and their love interests' histories are intertwined and they are also two of the very few characters in the entire ACOTAR series to have last names. Even Nesta remarked about how rare it was when she first met Gwyn.

Do y'all think they are related? Not necessarily that Lucien is Gwyn's grandpa (...) but maybe she's still related to the Vanserras. Also their last names sound very similar -- both three syllables and ending with an "A" plus the overuse of the letter "R". Perhaps Berdara was inspired by Vanserra?? I think Gwyn's last name (Berdara) may be recognized by someone from the Autumn Court and then we'll delve into her lineage. I'm also assuming that Berdara comes from her mom's side (which in turn might come from her maternal grandfather aka the Autumn High Fae that her grandmother seduced aka possibly the reason why her mother originally lived in the Forest House, which is Beron's seat) since she doesn't know who her dad is... Unlike SJM is about to pull a Tamlin Berdara on us O.O (I highly doubt so though...)

[shardminds]

Ok I have a prompt for you!!! Eris, not the moment he becomes high lord, but a week later when all the novelty and sense of victory is gone. How might he feel?

love you, marissa!

cleansing. eris centric / 228w (tw for mention of spousal and child abuse!)

It took a few days to decide what to do with the table that spanned the length of the Forest House’s dining room. It was priceless, really. Rich mahogany inlaid with amber and gold — his grandfather’s grandfather had carved it long before the courts were split. It was as much Vanserra blood as he was. Witness to countless dinners, deliberations, and too many betrayals to count.

Eris’ knees were too familiar with the stone floor by the table’s head. Punishments delivered by rage-warmed hands. And he’d removed those first. The hands.

“I’m sure we could make use of it,” His mother, broken fingers still slowly healing, traced the leaves carved into its surface. Beron’s final gift still blistered at her wrist. “It’s quite—”

“Burn it.” He said, flames snapping to his own fingertips as if called. Power ached in a way it never had before. Heavy, begging to be touched. His own fire had been near militant, obedient to a fault, trained into submission after centuries of practice. But this? Oh, how he’d let it burn the whole court to the ground if he could, raze everything Baron Vanserra ever loved until there was nothing but ash and a throne of golden leaves. A cleansing.

He hated that fucking table.

Eris touched two fingers to its edge and watched the smoke as it disintegrated. Nothing more than charcoal.

[nikethestatue]

Gwynriels think that Gwyn is related to either Beron, Eris or Lucien. They think her grandfather could be one of them 🤷‍♀️ Some even think that since she was conceived in Calanmai, her father could be Lucien. Others claimed her father could be Rhys but we know that’s impossible because he was UTM when she was conceived.

Yeah, I know what they think.

The thing with Eris and Gwyn is interesting. It's a thread that I am trying to unravel in my head.

Because there is something interesting that could be happening there. What if BOTH Azris and Gwynriel are just two misaligned ships?

Because hear me out:

Both Eris and Gwyn are suffering from the same guilt--the guilt of not having been able to do something in time. Gwyn, with her sister. Eris, with his mother, Lucien, Jesminda...

Eris's greatest regret, I think, is his inability to protect his mother from Beron. Years and years, centuries really, of abuse, that he was forced to watch and not be able to do anything about.

I think the reason so many people latched on to the Azris bandwagon is because in many ways, Eris and Azriel ARE similar--two sons, unable to protect their mothers from viciously awful fathers. Two sons abused and hurt by their fathers.

But Azriel managed to escape--he literally and figuratively SOARED--out of his circumstances. Whereas Eris is still stuck, but his allyship with Rhys is his step to get out and change his life. He also wants to soar.

Azriel has been sensitive to the plight of females and has been saving them and training them to the best of his ability--because he CAN. Eris, on the other hand, cannot. He failed with his mother, he failed with Jesminda. And he ALMOST failed with Mor. But he didn't. Mor is his 'win'. Mor was his rebelling, as much as he could do in that situation. And it frustrates him that Mor doesn't acknowledge what he'd done for her.

And then we have Azriel 'saving' Mor, bringing her back. We also have Azriel coming upon Gwyn's rape and saving her.

What if this is a weird parallel that SJM is beginning to build? Azriel saving Mor FROM Eris (presumably). Azriel saving Gwyn FOR Eris (in the future).

Both Eris and Gwyn on the same trajectory, on the same journey--they are rebelling, they are taking charge, they are carving out their own futures despite their pasts.

What if they go on that journey together? Gwynriels love talking about 'healing'. But what if the healing is between Eris and Gwyn? Because let's face it, Azriel isn't on any similar journey to Gwyn's. He doesn't need to be 'healed'. And he is deeply unavailable emotionally and mentally for Gwyn, because he is literally obsessed with another woman.

Now, the most interesting thing here is the potential misdirection of what SJM had written: the connection between Gwyn and Autumn. It's there. On page. In canon. But, what if the connection isn't about the past, but about the future?

What if, down the line, Gwyn finds a mother in LOA that she'd never really had with her own mother? But also, takes LOA on her own healing journey? Because Gwyn had just gone through it herself.

We also have a weird connection between Eris and Nesta, who is Gwyn's best friend.

I don't know...I think sometimes like with Chaol and Yerene, SJM sets up things which don't at first make sense, but then do.

Eris and Gwyn, to me, make sense.

[queercontrarian]

Eris calls in his bargain with Rhysand: he wants Nesta to join him in the Autumn Court to help him in his scheme to bring down his father.

an @acotargiftexchange fic dedicated to @secret-third-thing. my goal is to post one chapter a week until the end. big thanks to @iftheshoef1tz for letting me scream in your dms about this fic and to @acourtofladydeath for being the best spy i could've asked for. i love you, please enjoy ♡

read on AO3

Prologue

Eris had been born in the middle of the night on an unusually cold day, less than a week before the Summer Solstice. He’d been told the story of how he came into the world many times by his mother, and even more often by her midwives who liked retelling it every time his mother went into labor again. Six times they had repeated it to him while he was waiting outside of his mother’s quarters along with the rest of the family and later his younger brothers. He knew it by heart, every last detail of it etched into his mind. 

How his mother had gone into labor a few days earlier than the healers had anticipated. Just couldn’t wait to be born , they would say. The first Vanserra child born in centuries, with all the hope of saving a failing bloodline resting on his tiny shoulders. 

How loud he’d screamed. Strong lungs - a good sign . He needed to be strong, and loud, to make people pay attention to him. Attention was currency in his grandfather’s court. 

How his father had burst into the room the very first time he heard him scream to welcome his firstborn into the world. How he’d held him, how happy he’d been, how proud of mother and child. Fires shining brighter all over Autumn, flames so high some even believed the phoenix had finally returned.

Eris couldn’t remember a time when Beron had ever been so open to his family. He couldn’t remember his father showing love for anything at all, least of all for him or his brothers. 

Maybe that Beron had died when he finally became High Lord, maybe the females had simply embellished the story to paint a picture of a strong, healthy family leading the Court. One in which fathers didn’t go up in flames at every minor provocation, one in which children weren’t tortured and mothers did not turn a blind eye to their suffering, drowning their fear in old tales of long lost honor and glory, in religion and romance and too much wine, where brothers didn’t try to murder each other for a throne that would poison any that sat upon it. 

Unfortunately, that was not Eris’s family. 

He’d learned to live with it. It wasn’t as if he’d ever known anything else. He grew up never expecting more. He knew his place in the world, and it was standing at his father’s side, standing behind his father, standing in his father’s shadow. The War had come and gone, he had been promoted, demoted, praised and humiliated, revered and replaced. Six brothers, six rivals; four brothers, three rivals. He’d loved and he’d lost and he’d left himself behind when he went Under The Mountain, had lied and cheated and bargained and had come out on top. He had grown too big for his father’s shadow. He knew it was time. He could feel it.

All that to say that Eris was used to waiting. He had waited for over 500 years, so really, what was one more hour to that? Just one lousy hour until the plans he had set up so meticulously over decades were set into motion. 

One hour, maybe two. You could never be quite sure with Rhysand. He liked to keep Eris waiting. A power play, obviously. A cheap one, but as a High Lord he could afford it. 

Eris dragged his finger over the table. It was dusty. He tried to wipe his finger on the upholstery of the chair in front of him, which was only slightly less dusty. The whole damn room was dusty. Sometimes he wondered if the Court of Dreams, as they liked to call themselves, ever even used these halls outside of when they had to meet with him or Keir. They certainly didn’t use them often enough to have them cleaned regularly. Eris supposed it was part insult, part evidence of incapacity. Why clean these rooms when you did most of your governing in some hidden city far away anyway? 

Either way, Eris was being just as petty by insisting on meeting now, just after the solstice. Festivities in the Solar Courts often lasted nearly the whole week and Eris knew for a fact that Rhysand always dedicated more time to his family around the Winter Solstice in particular. Eris didn’t feel in the least bit guilty for interrupting it. Consider it payback for the insults, for mistreating his soldiers and for making him wait in this cold, dusty, ugly room. He didn't expect much from the High Lord and his inner circle, but that didn't mean he had to be happy with what he got. His thumb found the hilt of the Made dagger on his hip. He had no use for empty words or disloyal armies, and he certainly didn’t need Rhysand to hold his hand while he stabbed his father in the back. He had bigger plans.

By the time Rhysand finally slinked into the room it was past five. He reeked of sex, of his mate and very faintly of the godawful tea they liked to serve in the Night Court. Eris was tempted to check his pocket watch to know exactly how long the male had kept him waiting for these vain pursuits but he chose not to. Rhysand disrespected his time on purpose, so he would not let him see that it got under his skin. 

The little things were how he took back his power. Acting unaffected, refusing food or drink, to be treated as a guest, standing instead of sitting no matter how long he was made to wait so he wouldn’t have to get up to show respect when his so-called allies deigned to appear at their meetings - he had a long list of grievances to pay back in small petty gestures.

Eris took his time to greet the High Lord, slowly angling his head and then his entire body to face the High Lord and sketching a bow that was lazy yet precise. After all, he was a cauldron-damned Autumn-taught and trained courtier, and he would never be caught dead disregarding the manners that had been beaten into him since he was a little boy. There was a certain amount of respect demanded that he would give - no more than necessary though.

“Rhys,” he said smoothly, trying hard not to breathe through his nose. The smell was really quite overwhelming and he did not need to know all the details of the High Lord's night so intimately. Another grievance on his list. He forced a neutral expression onto his face. 

Rhysand inclined his head in Eris’s direction, baring his teeth in what only barely resembled a smile. Eris knew it was meant to look wrong and unsettling, but he could tell that Rhysand's heart wasn’t in it. He looked tired. Something was weighing on him, something that would either help him in this or complicate his plans. Unfortunately he didn’t have the time to spend on finding out what exactly it was.

“Eris. I have to admit I was surprised you requested another meeting so soon, seeing as you just joined us at the Solstice ball earlier tonight." Eris watched Rhysand settle into the high-backed throne at the end of the dusty table, shaking his head when his host motioned for him to sit also.

"I figured this was something you would rather discuss in private. Don’t worry, it won't take too much of your time." 

Rhysand chuckled darkly. “No, you only insist on meeting in the middle of the night for what, a chat? To what do I owe the pleasure of your disturbance?” Eris mirrored his smirk, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. A disturbance . How charming.

In this at least Rhysand had the right hunch. After Eris told him his demands he wasn’t so sure Rhysand would sleep any more at all tonight, nor enjoy the week of festivities planned in the Night Court to celebrate the Solstice and their High Lady’s birthday. There was a sort of sick satisfaction he found in that, in rendering the powerful powerless, in reminding the comfortable of how vulnerable they really were. Sometimes they needed a little push off of their high pedestals. It served to build character. In Eris’s humble opinion, he was doing them a favor.

Fifty years Under the Mountain, fifty years under the bitch queen’s thumb and still, Rhysand did not understand that he wasn’t the only one planning ahead, not the only one with tricks up his sleeve. It had taken him only two years to forget how easily one could lose everything on a bargain. Too comfortable . 

As if to prove his point, Eris felt a talon of darkness swipe lazily at his mind’s wards. They stayed firmly in place as they always did, but Eris still bristled at the half-hearted attempt. Disrespectful . Breaking into another’s mind unbidden was a grave breach of trust and generally considered an act of aggression against foreign dignitaries, especially against allies. 

Of course, such rules did not exist for the High Lord of the Night Court. Rhysand, pretending like he hadn’t just blatantly and audaciously broken protocol, stayed silent, only vaguely gesturing with his hand for Eris to go on. Performing superiority, impatience, boredom. Again, incredibly rude. Oh, Beron would have a field day with a son like Rhysand. 

Still, Eris kept his mouth shut, clasped his hands behind his back and swallowed the insult like he’d been taught to. 

"I am here to call in our bargain," he said calmly. And oh, that certainly woke the High Lord up. His eyes cleared and he sat up in his chair almost like he was pulled by invisible threads. Now he had his attention. Now they were playing the game by Eris’s rules. He had to fight back a smile as he said his next words:

“I demand the support I was promised. I want Nesta Archeron."

[myromanempiree]

I feel so bad abt not updating Enchanting, so here's a snippet of it! I hope this will be good enough for the wait.

White lace scratches at her wrists, the corset almost as suffocating as the atmosphere. She feels her throat slightly close with every passing tick of the large, dark oak grandfather clock posted by the wall, looming over her, not dissimilar to her shadowed fate. Her constant state of quiet panic had muffled every one of her senses, body sinking into the plush velvet of the marital loveseat that Beron had stuck her and Eris in. She’d barely moved from her spot, even to greet several high-ranking members of the Autumn court that were in attendance.

Regret and fear swarms her mind, which had slowly — and almost unnoticeably — been building up in her heart. 

It’s all becoming too real now. She had irrationally forced herself into court politics, something she knew very little to nothing about. Just because she wanted to be *worth* something to her sisters and their family.

Now she sat beside Eris, matching gold and ruby rings adorning their left hands. And now, she sat beside Eris, living with the repercussions of her emotional impulse. 

She tried desperately to remember the breathing exercise that Madja had taught her, tried to pace each inhale and exhale to slow her rapidly beating heart. To calm her body, which felt like a rubber cord, pulling to the snapping point.

The newly-weds share small glances, mainly consisting of Eris chasing her gaze with his own. Herself far too mortified at the prospect of their upcoming evening to meet his eyes for more than a spare few seconds.