#let's ignore canon!tamlin

[chairofchaos]

The Worst Love Letter Ever Written | Nyxlin

A/N: guys I did a writing sprint and chaos happened. I don't even know what to say. It's been too long. Enjoy whatever the fuck this is.

Dear Nyx,

I would imagine this strikes you as a little unsettling. The family history is admittedly less than ideal. In fact, I would argue it is entirely inadvisable for us to court, regardless of the Mother’s decision to mate us. 

Against all reason, I must say I desire to see you again. I failed in my courtship with your mother, it is true. And the failure was, in part, hers. But the failure was also mine. I failed to see how she needed me to be present. I failed to see where I was failing. For lack of a better word, failure abounds. 

Against my better judgement, I desire you. Carnally, even. Though I would shudder to know how you would feel, assuming you are familiar with my courtship with your mother. 

This is a terrible idea, isn’t it?

Despite these things, despite my unending anger at your parents, your mother especially for her treatment of my court, and your father for being… himself… I must say I cannot see a life as enjoyable as one with you by my side.

Perhaps my hatred of them will one day be overshadowed by the love we can share. For it is, in fact, love that I have for you. You must see how eloquent we could be together: the prince of night and the lord of spring, united in splendor. As horrified as I was at the realization of our mating bond, I think our courts’ history shows that you cannot argue with fate. It is a horrid fact that we must not ignore: ignoring one another would only lead to pain. For example, I assume you could look to your aunt. That was a terrible situation.

We shouldn’t ignore what fate designates, no matter how distasteful it may seem. I have to say, I can’t be displeased by your attractive qualities: wit, a symmetrical face, a terribly good sense of political intelligence, and a charm which rivals Helion’s smile. You are by far my favorite person to hate. And it is said by some that love and hate are separated only by a thin line. Perhaps we will find that to be the case. Regardless, I must propose.

Will you join me in Spring? At least until your parents have passed, I can imagine you would find it safer here. Should they disown you, I can provide stability and support. Should they not, well, you wouldn’t need their support anyways. Your mother’s actions before your birth did not harm my court so much as cause an opportunity for growth. It has been rather fortuitous, as we have grown more than we would have otherwise, and now find ourselves a primary trading partner of Monteserre. 

You would find benefit to being in residence here for the duration of our courtship. I would say to expect a spring wedding, but as it is always spring, perhaps a calendar date should best be set. (You do enjoy jokes, don’t you?)

When you arrive in spring, please don’t hesitate to explore. Your presence is expected, whenever you choose to arrive.

From now until you inevitably abandon me out of misguided love,

Tamlin

[spacerockfloater]

The way people switched on Tamlin the moment Rhys was introduced is diabolical.

“Tamlin never really loved Feyre, it was all a trick from the start”: It is stated that Tamlin was disgusted by the idea of forcing someone to fall in love with him and considered it slavery, but ended up being so in love with her that he ultimately lets her go and choses her freedom and safety over that of his own people. Rhys confirms that Tamlin loved Feyre too much. And he loved her truly. Not because he had to. Tamlin treated Feyre with dignity when she was engaged to him. He introduced her as his lady, to be respected and cherished by all. And she really was loved by his people, too. Rhysand uses her as his lap dog to scare Hewn City and parades her as his whore.

“Tamlin never did anything for Feyre, he just used her”: He improved her and her family’s life in every aspect and offered her everything he had.

“Tamlin had sex with someone else in Calanmai”: Out of duty and responsibility because he didn’t want to force Feyre, who still wasn’t sure about her feelings, into it. All of the High Lords perform the Calanmai. Lucien says so. How convenient that this is never brought up with Rhysand. He surely does perform it as well. All the theories in here, “Lucien doesn’t know what he’s talking about/ This is a SC ritual only/ He probably just passes the duty on to someone else” are just a way for people to villainise Tam and glorify Rhys again. All of them inaccurate. The Calanmai is canonically performed by every High Lord. There’s no evidence that proves otherwise. As the son of one High Lord and the ambassador of another, Lucien would know. He is 500 years old. It’s just more convenient for SJM to never bring this up again because it raises the question of “Who was Rhysand fucking all these years?” and it makes her favourite character look bad. And once he is engaged to her, Tamlin flat out refuses to do it. Let’s be real for a second.

“Tamlin didn’t help Feyre under the mountain”: He literally could not. He was bound by a curse. He was forced to be Amarantha’s consort and a consort cannot oppose you. His powers were bound. Alis warns Feyre that Tamlin will not be able to help her. Stop acting as if he didn’t want to help her. He decapitated Amarantha the moment he got his autonomy back. Claiming that there’s no proof that Tamlin was under the influence of a spell when he literally didn’t break the curse and Amarantha’s magic didn’t allow him to use his powers is crazy. And even if he tried, he could never provide actual help. We see this when he begs Amarantha for Feyre’s life. Him showing he cares about her would only make Amarantha more jealous and vicious towards Feyre.

“Tamlin made out with Feyre instead of helping her”: He couldn’t help her run away. No one could do that. She would never make it, Amarantha would find her. In fact, Tamlin specifically could not help her in any way. He could only assure her he still wants and loves her. And she wanted that just as much. Rhys abused her physically, mentally, verbally, drugged her and much worse. And he enjoyed all of it. If he didn’t want to raise suspicions, he wouldn’t have placed a bet in her favour. Rhys is a sadist, SJM just decided to mellow him down in the next book so that we’d all like him over Tamlin.

“Tamlin ignored Feyre’s wishes and only wanted her to be his bride, he didn’t let her be High Lady”: Both Tamlin and Feyre were bad communicators going though trauma and Tam had a whole court to care for. Tamlin was unaware of how Feyre felt because she barely spoke up once. Rhys knew because he literally lived inside her head and had all the time in the world to focus his attention on her since his court suffered zero consequences during Amarantha’s reign. And Tamlin simply told her the truth: there’s no such thing as High Lady. Even her current title is given to her by Rhys, the magic of Prythian has not actually chosen her to be High Lady. The title and its power are decorative. And she said she didn’t want that anyway.

“Tamlin locks Feyre up and uses his magic to harm her”: He locks her in his humongous palace to keep her safe, after she just came back from the dead and his worst enemy is kidnapping her every month, while he runs off to protect his borders. Rhysand locks Feyre in a fucking bubble. Tamlin loses control of his magic. He doesn’t want to harm her. That’s not abuse. Abuse is intentional. Feyre and Rhysand lock Lucien and Nesta up. They lock the people of the Hewn City up in a cave. Feyre loses control of her magic and harms Lucien’s mother. Double standards I guess.

“Tamlin is a bad and conservative ruler”: Tamlin is such a beloved ruler that his sentries literally begged to die for him. Feyre had to fuck with their minds to finally turn them against him. They were his friends. He was so progressive that the lords fled his court once he became their ruler because he wouldn’t put up with their bullshit like his father did. He loved all of his people. He is against slavery. The Tithe was just tax collection. Rhysand practically rules over just one city, while ignoring Hewn City and Illyria. He treats 2/3 of his realm like shit and everyone except the residents of Velaris hates him. He collects tax, too, but we conveniently never see this. He ranks the members of his inner circle (my 1st, my 2nd etc.) and reminds them every moment that they are his slaves first and anything else second, while Tamlin treats them equally and even gives Lucien an official title by naming him Ambassador.

“Tamlin conspired with Hybern”: He was a double agent and his short lived alliance, two weeks all in all, not only didn’t harm a single soul, but ultimately saved all of Prythian as he was the only one who brought valuable information to that meeting. He dragged Beron to battle. Rhysand’s alliance with Amarantha harmed thousands and only helped save one city, Velaris.

“Tamlin is responsible for turning Nesta and Elain into Fae”: No, that was Ianthe, who got the info from Feyre. Tamlin was fooled by her, just as Feyre obviously was, or she wouldn’t have trusted her. Tamlin was disgusted by that act.

“Tamlin is less powerful than Rhysand”: Rhysand himself says that a battle between them would turn mountains to dust. Tamlin killed Rhysand’s dad, the previous High Lord of the Night Court, in one blow. He is just as powerful as Rhysand. SJM again just wants us to believe otherwise. And he is smarter, too. He was the only one not to trust Amarantha. And he was a good spy for Prythian against Hybern.

All of these takes are cold as fuck. SJM was testing the waters with ACOTAR and she made sure the main love interest, Tamlin, was insanely likeable, so that the book could be a satisfactory standalone story in case she couldn’t land a trilogy deal. She didn’t know it would be such a big hit. But once she realised she could turn this into a franchise, she had to figure out a new story to tell. She may claim otherwise, but there’s just too many plothotes to convince me. And in order to make her new main love interest seem like the best choice, she had to character assassinate the old one. There was no other way. ACOTAR Rhys was too much of an evil monster to be loved by the majority of the audience. But Tamlin was introduced to us as such a heroic and passionate man that is literally impossible to turn him into someone despised by all. Feyre’s relationship with Rhysand reads too much like cheating on Tamlin. That’s why anyone with basic analytical skills is able to realise the flaws of the narration.

[extremely-judgemental]

Long Post

Every time I see the ‘let my girl be happy’ tag and the post is about canon Nessian, it infuriates me as much as it breaks my heart. Sometimes I wonder if those who romanticise Cassian’s toxic behaviours are speaking from a place of privilege or ignorance, because admitting that calls for addressing real-life abuse and misogyny they are forced to endure.

I’m an Indian living in a highly patriarchal, misogynistic society where women are still required to marry someone out of convenience for the sake of their families. This is not the cute arranged marriages you read about in books or watch in movies. Most women have to sacrifice everything they stand for to ease their families’ burdens. And let’s not even start with dowry or DV. Sure, our society has progressed in many ways, yet, this is the reality of most women when it comes to marriages. No matter how well-off you are, no matter how successful you are in your career. It’s more nuanced than you imagine; parents meddle with children’s lives at every step, and our lives are more intertwined with our families than in western society. So I simply can’t read Nesta’s story and delude myself into thinking she got a happy ending with Cassian or the Inner Circle. I keep my emotions out of most of the criticisms to help people see the situation objectively. That’s hard to do in this case, but I’ll try.

Nesta is the eldest child who ‘fails’ her sisters, though it is her father’s responsibility to care for three young girls. Having been groomed to be a housewife all her life, she contributes in the only way she knows—by doing the chores and nurturing her family. She seeks help from relatives and friends, while the ones in position to do so ignore her. And when the time comes, she finds a way to be of use to her family by marrying Tomas. Despite all this, Nesta is considered a failure of a sister, simply because Feyre made a choice. Most of these only come to light in Silver Flames, and even the few instances where Feyre realises this, there’s no real appreciation for Nesta’s efforts. Instead, they are dismissed or only mentioned to highlight Feyre’s empathic tendencies and her awareness of her sisters’ plights, rather than uplifting Nesta’s character. None of these are acknowledged as they don’t fit the typical masculine ideals glorified throughout the series.

As Nesta navigates her life as a newly transformed fae, she partakes in a war in which she has no part in. She has no obligation or need to risk her life for the Night Court, or any other court, or even the mortals. These are the same acts that made Feyre a hero in the first book. But when it comes to Nesta, and she rises to the occasion, her actions are downplayed as she grapples with PTSD from her death, the Cauldron, the toll of war, and her father’s death. None of her sacrifices or her attempts to protect her sisters are given an ounce of importance or respect they deserve. Instead, it’s framed as Nesta’s duty as the eldest sister or the sister of the Night Court’s High Lady.

When she deals with her trauma, everyone takes great pleasure in controlling how the situation unfolds. She goes as far as living alone to spare her sisters. Yet Feyre and Elain, who have the choice of when and how to regulate their emotions, fail to grasp the concept of personal space. Her actions are self-sabotaging at best and have no real consequences on any of the other characters. Still, they are amplified to an extent that it’s turned into a court affair. The reason for this is Nesta isn’t coping in the right way. Gambling, drinking and sex—common activities for the Inner Circle—become a question of their reputation the moment she engages in them in her pain, emphasising that these are only acceptable when done with them. Spending Feyre’s money on gambling may seem like a reasonable cause for Rhysand to interfere, but if we factor in how Nesta’s rightful wealth from Tamlin or her father was lost as a direct consequence of Inner Circle’s actions, along with the fact that she is still owed money for her contribution in the war, Nesta is deliberately stripped of any monetary agency to trap her.

If this isn’t punishment enough, she is locked in an inescapable tower with a man she wants no part of. When she objects to this, she is lied to about their laws and threatened being thrown among people who will consider her a threat. She has no interest in training to fight or working for the Night Court, but she’s forced to. She’s not compensated for any of this labour either. Nesta is known to starve herself after the war to the point that she’s nothing but ‘skin and bones’. Cassian, an established gym bro in the series, weaponises food against her when she refuses to eat what is offered or when. The moment she shows any interest in eating, he judges her for being picky and brings up her latent guilt that led her down that path in the first place. Later on, knowing she’s not fit enough, the Inner Circle insists on training her right away, in freezing conditions, without proper clothing. Nesta soon learns that she has no choice but to comply. She goes on to train with Cassian, work in the library, and accept the food the house gives her. This is the first step in breaking her.

Nesta has no one to rely on or talk to in the house except for Cassian. The relationship that develops between them is not circumstantial but a well-orchestrated one. Even for small talk, Cassian is her only choice. After learning Nesta was SA’d by the kelpie and on the verge of death, no one (including her sisters) cares for her as much as they should. The only person who checks on her is Cassian, and even he is so overcome with desire and lust that he has sex with her instead of comforting her. It is common knowledge that sex is a coping mechanism for her and that she has been SA’d twice—something only Cassian knows. This perpetuates the idea that even when a woman is hurting and in pain, she must be appealing, and her trauma should be sexually gratifying and desirable for the man. A woman can walk back from the doors of death, but she must look pretty while doing it. There is nothing empowering about that.

Then, there is Eris’s seduction. Feyre looks down on Nesta for contemplating selling her body to take care of her sisters. But the same is expected of her when she serves the Night Court. It is almost glorified and revered by Cassian himself. During their conversation in River House, he lets her believe that she has to earn both his love and her sisters’. Not once does he contradict any of her fears or insecurities. For the first time, Nesta has sex with him without it being an escape, and the next morning, Cassian abandons her, reinforcing the idea that she indeed earned the sex and love for what she did in Court of Nightmares.

When Nesta reveals the truth about Feyre’s pregnancy, her true feelings are swept under the rug by how she ‘failed’ her sister again. She has the right to expose Rhysand and his plans. Even if the situation isn’t the most ideal, she is locked in a tower and only talks to anyone when the IC choose, which limits her options. Besides, when will the timing ever be perfect for such a conversation? She is again vilified for being the only one honest with her sister. Her intentions are twisted to cover up others’ mistakes. Cassian, once again, is the one who punishes her for it.

At this point, Nesta is suicidal, and Cassian recognises the signs. He still insists on taking the hike, also using the silent treatment to enforce the idea that she is in the wrong. His interactions with Feyre prove none of them dwell on Nesta’s actions as much as she believes. While she is having a guilt trip, edging her closer to suicide, Cassian laughs behind her back with Feyre, almost enjoying her fears. At the end of this trip, Nesta finally opens up about her trauma for the first time, and Cassian swoops in with his own sorrows and how he overcame them. Instead of making her feel seen and heard, she is once again lectured on what she should do and how.

Lastly, Cassian and Morrigan have a mildly, if not completely, inappropriate relationship that Nesta is expected to accept. If she expresses jealousy or anger, it’s not because of the bond or their relationship, but will be seen as her inherent quality. She can’t fight it as everyone else has accepted it as a normal relationship. If she shows any displeasure, her past of sleeping with other men will be brought into the conversation, and she will be scrutinised. This is very similar to the ‘men will be men’ narrative—the man can flirt with whoever he wants, and it’s harmless, but the woman has to behave.

Throughout the series, everyone is against Nesta. Her family is her responsibility. She has a duty to protect and serve them, no matter the circumstances, no matter how much it costs her or how much pain she is in. Her own sisters side with her in-laws, saying it’s how things are and she ‘doesn’t have to be so miserable’. Her life is forever bound to a man she initially wanted nothing to do with and her everyday existence is dependent on him. She is trapped with him until she learns to accept her fate. He doesn’t lay a hand on her, but he psychologically and emotionally abuses her until she complies with his family and behaves to fit their image. He even gives her the silent treatment, withdraws sex/intimacy from her, leaves her alone in the tower, cuts her off from everyone she loves and cares about if she misbehaves. She has no financial independence, leaving her at the mercy of her sister and her family. Even when she’s hurting, she has no choice but to risk her life for them or go to war when they demand. She goes as far as changing her body for her future child. Her life is threatened by her in-laws, but no one bats an eye at that, forever leaving her fearing for her safety.

If you believe it’s just fiction and that all this is exaggeration of something in a fantasy book, you really need to look around you. This is a real nightmare for most women around the world. Your girl, Nesta, isn’t happy. She settled. She has accepted a life in which she is treated less than a dog and used as a weapon. She’s been beaten down until she learnt not to step out of line if she wants to live. She is still with Cassian because she doesn’t see a life other than that as an option and has come to accept whatever scraps her sister and her family have decided to throw her way. And I sincerely hope that if you ever come across a real-life Rhysand or Cassian, you have the wits to protect yourself and run the other way.

[lifeisabiscuit]

It will never not bother me how people are like Elain doesn't owe Lucien anything, she doesn't want him, he should take a hint, leave her alone and stop stalking her (even though he moved to the human lands and only comes when requested and doesnt even see her everytime hes there or at solstice where he kindly brings gifts for her and Feyre and she barely acknowledges it. Like, no girl the gifts don't make him entitled to your affections but aren't you supposed to be the kind sister? He hasn't done anything wrong). Even in canon, Feyre barely tries to meddle in their relationship (or lack thereof) and even questions why not give Elain and Azriel a bond instead. They never clear up that he was not the reason they were taken (and neither was Tamlin but of course they would let them keep blaming him instead of taking responsibility for their part), they just dangle her in front of him to make him compliant and keep doing things for them (sounds a lot like what they did to his brother with Nesta).

But then, when Nesta clearly makes it known she wants nothing to do with Cassian (like Elain has about Lucien), they let him follow her around and lock her in a house with him. Don't even get me started on the bonus chapter where he cornered a human woman and asked about her virginity. No matter what Nesta wanted, Cassian wanted Nesta so they had to be together, ignoring every thing she's said and every sign she's made that she wanted him to leave her alone. No, let's lock them up together instead and force proximity. I don't care if deep deep down she wanted him too, she told him to leave her alone. He found glee in locking her up with him where she could not go anywhere without him. And so many people think this is romantic and goals? They think Nesta deserved to have her wants ignored because Cassian wanted her.

I don't believe the problem was that Nesta was sleeping around, but because she wasn't sleeping with Cassian and he was throwing a pity party. Because as soon as she started sleeping with him even though that was another of her vices, all of a sudden no one had an issue with it.

Like, it seems like just another way to punish Lucien for 'not helping Feyre' against a high lord (something everyone excuses Cassian from because Rhys is his high lord) and punish Nesta for being a child "letting" her sister hunt (even though Feyre made her mom a promise and was never going to listen to Nesta whether she told her not to anyways).

Cassian didn't even really want Nesta more than physically, they had to break her to make her more what he wanted and then he never even said he loved her. He wanted a mate, Nesta wanted Cassian. And the thing is, I don't even have a preferred Elain ship, I just want Lucien to stop being toyed with. But I don't think Lucien even wants a mate, so I could see him actually falling for Elain for who she is, not just her beauty. If anyone would give him a chance. Like, even if she still wants to break the bond, at least talk to him.

I dunno, The double standard between how people treat the sisters is annoying.

[bluiela]

E/riel arguments that are too senseless

A recycled e/riel argument I've seen multiple times is

"spark is used in other places as well but they didn't turn out to be mates hence gwynriel no mates"

And to that for one last time I can tell you that CONTEXT MATTERS

They just see the word spark and see the people not together and are like see we got you

But please read the words before and after the word spark and see the context

let's see where else it is used

Feyre and Tamlin (ACOTAR)

"That smile of his sparked something bold in my chest"

Used to show the romantic feeling Feyre had for Tamlin, her feeling bold enough to start to love him"

Aelin and Lorcan (KOA & EOS)

"Lorcan shredded, dark soul tipped its head back and roared in unison to her powers burning song"

"The command settled in him, too, another little spark that glowed deep down"

Aelin's authority and command is what sparked in him, it is shown to highlight Aelin as a queen and even Lorcan could feel and accept it

The emotion is literally spelled out, yet they will ignore it

Irithys and Lydia (HOFAS)

"The queen's flame set Lydia's own sparking in answer dancing over her fingertips, in joyful recognition"

I don't think it needed to be spelled out, but it is not even a spark that Lydia felt but her powers, the power recognize her and hence her actual powers sparking not a spark (as in emotion used in other) she felt but her actual fire powers sparking because apparantly flame sparking is too complex for people to comprehend"

Cassian and Nyx

"The joy spark in him"

My honey baby boo it is spelled out in canon, it was a joy that spark in him, the joy of holding his nephew

In the same book Ruhn and Lydia who are mates felt a similar spark and Burn (don't have my book with me so can't show it) but these guys will skip over that,

SJM used the word spark a lot and in different situations, she actually spells out the emotion the person feels sparking through them, either she shows it to show romantic interest and mates 99% when it's used as "something" sparked (e.g.- feysand, nessian, huntlar, ruhnlidia) otherwise she spells out the emotion)

And they will ignore the fact that Gwyn actually made him feel EMOTIONAL FEELINGS (he is the coldest spy)

Azriel felt "something" spark in his chest, then he unconsciously smile at Gwyn's smile and bright eyes and then buries her deep in his heart,

I think it's pretty obvious what some unexplored emotion is which SJM put in a crumbs chapter to be explored later.

Gwynriel's don't need to be obtuse and decontextualize everything to grasp at straws.

[goldenivy0]

It's NOT that simple!

For every time I see a comment saying "I hope Lucien and Elain can be extremely happy together in the future, he deserves his HEA after everything he's been through and Elain too", I also see someone answering "What do you mean? He can have his HEA even if it's not with Elain, and Elain can also have her HEA with someone she chooses for herself" (you know who they're referring to with this lol).

Well... yes... but at the same time not really?? To what extent would that be a true HEA for the two of them? Elucien's situation and E/riel's situation are two completely different things. Rejecting a mating bond with your fated mate is something completely different than ending a situationship (yes, that's what E/riel have at the moment, a situationship... and a shaky one may I add).

In SJM's world, finding your mate is the peak of fulfillment when it comes to your romantic life, she believes in soulmates and the fated mates trope is a focal point in all her works.

What I take from this: finding your mate is a blessing and having a mating bond with someone makes you have such a deep connection with that person that any other romantic relationship you might have with another (even if it's a whole marriage!) is insignificant in comparison. So yeah... imo this just further proves this notion that there's nothing greater than a mating bond in SJM's universe. Having a mating bond with someone and experiencing it with that person is the happiest of HEA there can be, according to text SJM wrote herself.

Why would you want Elain to experience just a standard HEA (with Az or anyone else) when she can have the happiest of HEA with her mate (who is a great guy btw, so don't try to compare their case with Tamlin's parents or Rhys's parents cause that's bs)? And the same applies to Lucien and Azriel. Don't tell me "Oh BuT ElAiN sAid ShE DiDn'T WaNt a MaTe" cause my dear friend, right after that Elain also said she didn't want a male and Azriel is a male. A male she was willing to kiss and whom you claim she's in love with. So I just wonder, if she apparently changed her mind about that, who are we to say that she didn't or can't also change her mind about not wanting a mate?

You're telling me that Elain shares a mating bond with Lucien but she will simply ignore that to be in a relationship with Azriel without ever asking herself "what if"? "What if I had given me and my mate a chance?". Azriel will never ask himself "what if I find my mate one day"?? You're telling me that SJM will write a book where Elain is SO in love with Azriel that she won't even look at Lucien with whom she has such a deep connection that's unlike any other?

When we compare Lucien and Azriel's situations individually, they are NOT the same. For Lucien, if Elain rejects the bond, that's permanent! There will never be someone better for him than Elain, his mate. There will never be a greater connection for him with anyone else than the one he lost with this rejection. For Azriel, if Elain ends things with him, there's still a chance he'll find his mate (people speculate he already did but that's for another day), there's still a chance he'll find this person with whom he will share a connection so deep that it makes whatever he felt for Elain seem insignificant (canon lol).

When it comes to Elucien, it's a whole mating bond that's at stake, a pull that they will both feel for the rest of eternity even if rejected, and that's why so many people wish things to go well between them, that's why people want them to find their HEA together. Just like @olenvasynyt once said, let's not treat Elucien's situation as if they were part of some tinder blind date that went sour. PLEEEASE 🙏🏼

[thecatsaesthetics]

But Rhys took Feyre's choice away in ACOSF and is as bad as Tamlin

Disclaimer - I am going to state up front SJM shouldn't have told this story through Nesta's POV. It is an incredibly complex storyline in it's own right and deserved to be told through Feyre's POV.

However, fans tend to make several claims about the story that I want to either debunk or combat. You can still hate the storyline (I hate how it was told as well) but twisting canon to suit your own narrative isn’t right.

(I am using this timeline for the series, which is the most in-depth timeline I have ever found.)

Let's begin

What actually happened in canon:

Rhys and Feyre were actively attempting to have a baby since the end of ACOFAS (December 21st). Feyre announces her pregnancy to the group 16 days into the start of ACOSF. She says she is "two months along". ACOSF is canonically 10 months after ACOFAS. Meaning Feyre and Rhys conceive Nyx in August.

31 days into ACOSF Rhys and Feyre find out via Madja Nyx has wings. Feyre would be heading into her second trimester. Rhys knows the baby wings pose a problem (as does Madja). Madja informed Feyre the birth would be "more difficult" but does not state the baby will kill her. Rhys sets out on finding a way to save Feyre and the baby.

33 days into ACOSF Rhys goes to Drakon and Miryam to ask about the wings. They give him nothing but sad looks.

40 days into ACOSF Helion visits and is asked by Rhys about the wings and says he will look into it.

43 days into ACOSF Nesta, in a fit of rage, tells Feyre her baby is going to die and kill her.

So canonically Feyre does not know for 12 days. So, around two weeks, Feyre is unaware the chances she will die in labor are incredibly heightened.

That is really important, it is not months they are keeping this from Feyre. It also doesn't seem likely Rhys or any of the IC would have let Feyre give birth without knowing what was happening. It also seems likely Rhys was pending more information from Helion who had 3 days to look into things before Nesta had her outburst.

While again it's not explicitly said I believe SJMs implication is that Rhys was exhausting all efforts prior to telling Feyre. Which is something Feyre would have done herself, since we know she wanted Nyx, and rather then let Feyre's pregnancy be ruined by fear (especially if an answer was out there) Rhys decides to take the burden on himself.

Is it necessarily right? I don't think so, but is it done to specifically control Feyre? (Like Tamlin's actions were) No. It's done because Rhys cannot bring himself to take Feyre's happiness away from her. Feyre is described as being so happy in ACOSF, she finally has everything she's ever wanted. She has her mate, her family, her home, security, and is awaiting the arrival of her baby. Feyre has her gotten her "happy ending" and who would want to take that from someone? This is something Rhys was struggling with in ACOFAS, the idea that he does not deserve to be happy with Feyre.

I hate that we get it told through Nesta and Cassian's POV, because honestly this would have been a good Feysand plotline and would have dealt with the remaining issues that were hinted at in ACOFAS.

Commonly incorrect statements by the fandom

"Rhysand forced Feyre to stay pregnant because he valued the baby's life over hers" -

This is canonically not true. Feyre is the one who wanted to get pregnant. Ignoring this is missing the point entirely, Feyre wanted to start her family.

Second, while Rhys clearly loves Nyx it seems his concern was for her and not for Nyx:

Cassian squeezed Rhys’s shoulder. “Why won’t you tell her?” Rhys’s throat worked. “Because I can’t bring myself to give her that fear. To take away one bit of the joy in her eyes every time she puts a hand on her belly.” His voice shook. “It is fucking eating me alive, this terror. I keep myself busy, but … there is no one to bargain with for her life, no amount of wealth to buy it, nothing that I can do to save her.”

His concern is for Feyre and the fact that she is going to die while in labor. He doesn't even mention Nyx dying, and it's said Nyx will die in the labor as well.

"Rhys prevented Feyre from getting an abortion" -

So first we need to ask ourself, are abortions a thing in Pyrthian? We don't get any mentions of them and fae children are rare. I would suspect in Pyrthian they aren't a thing, but maybe in the human lands.

Second, by the time Rhys and Feyre find out about the wings it's been 31 days into ACOSF and when the baby was announced she was two months pregnant, which is frustrating because we don't know if she means two months on the dot or two months and a few days. It's then 15 more days till the wings are discovered she is anywhere between 11/12 weeks pregnant.

It's important to remember pregnancies are not defined by months, they are defined by weeks. If you are 11/12 weeks pregnant the abortion you get is more complicated then at 8 or 9 weeks. So it seems even if she could have an abortion (if that's a thing in Prythian) that she would have had to pass the fetal tissue.

Remember the problem isn't that the baby is sick or causing Feyre to be sick. Feyre is described as being healthy and radiant all throughout ACOSF. The pregnancy isn't the issue, it's the birth. The wings will supposably get caught and not be able to pass through the birthing canal. So even if she had an abortion those wings are getting caught and preventing the tissue from passing. We later see the size of the wings don't matter, because Feyre gives birth preterm and it still kills her.

And it will be challenging enough during a birth when the baby is alive but if they preform an abortion you're talking dead tissue being stuck in Feyre as they attempt to pull it out of her piece by piece.

That could kill her as well.

So when Rhys says "nothing I can do to save her life" he means it. As long as Feyre gives birth/passes those wings in her fae body she's dead.

The only in universe solution is for Feyre to transform back into an Illyrian form (I'll get into that later). That's it, nothing else could save her and in fact what happens is Nesta bargains for Feyre's life and then permanently changes her body to be Illyrian. So the solution was to shapeshift.

"Nesta told Feyre because she thought it was wrong"

That's not true, in fact Nesta agreed to say nothing and was later sorry for even telling Feyre. So no she did not tell Feyre because she thought it was an injustice.

Nesta was bitter and hurt by other things that happened (I am not going into it) and decided to hurt her sister back. She told her in the most brutal and awful way possible.

She easily could have caused Feyre to go into preterm labor and didn't care if that happened. If Feyre had gone into preterm labor with no solution to get the baby out then she would have died.

"Feyre's choice was taken from her"

So if we rule out abortion, and go with shapeshifting I don't see how anyone concludes that the 12 days Feyre does not know takes that choice from her. Even for the 12 days with the abortion idea, she still could have done it. She makes a choice not to, Feyre does not go into labor unaware of the risks.

Going back to shapeshifting, Rhys says this:

“So let her change back into an Illyrian to bear the babe.” Rhys’s face was stark. “Madja has put a ban on any more shape-shifting. She says that to alter Feyre’s body in any way right now could put the baby at risk. On the chance that it could be bad for the baby, Feyre is forbidden to so much as change the color of her hair until after the birth.”

So originally it's Madja who says shape-shifting is banned but sorry I do not see how Madja is going to control Feyre. During the announcement scene we get this from Feyre:

Nesta angled her head at her sister. “So you can’t do magic while pregnant?” Feyre winced. “I can, but given my unusual set of gifts, I’m not sure how it might impact the baby. Winnowing is fine, but some other powers, when we’re still so early in the pregnancy, could strain my body dangerously.”

Feyre is given the medical opinion of Madja on her doing magic and chooses to follow it.

And the nail in the coffin that it wasn't Feyre's choice is the birth scene itself:

“There is nothing we can do,” Madja said. “Cutting the babe out of her will kill her.” “Cutting it out?” Nesta demanded, earning a sharp glare from Rhys. Madja ignored her tone. “An incision along her abdomen, even one carefully made, is an enormous risk. It’s never been successful. And even with Feyre’s healing abilities, the blood loss has weakened her—” “Do it,” Feyre managed to say, the words weighted with pain. “Feyre,” Rhys objected. “The babe likely won’t survive,” Madja said, voice gentle but no-nonsense. “It’s too small yet. We risk both of you.” “All of you,” Cassian breathed, eyes on Rhys. “Do it,” Feyre said, and her voice was that of the High Lady. No fear. Only determination for the life of the babe within her. Feyre looked up at Rhys. “We have to.”

While it isn't explicitly mentioned, the scene prior is discussions about saving Nyx not about saving Feyre. Madja says "we risk both of you" implying their is a way to just save Feyre. That way would be shapeshifting, something Feyre is refusing to do in this moment. Rhys is the one who is objecting to the c-section and Feyre insists that "We have to". Feyre chooses to have the c-section and attempt to save her son.

Conclusion:

I don't think we can conclude Feyre's choice was taken from her, in fact it seems she made a choice not to shapeshift and save herself. That might feel like pro life propaganda and maybe it is (I don't know SJMs stance on this) but a mother choosing to go through with a risky pregnancy and delivery is still her making that choice. Just because it's not the choice you would make or like, doesn't make it any less of a choice.

It's really odd how people twist this storyline to fit a narrative of "Rhys is just as bad as Tamlin" and while I can understand the similarities, (both being born out of fear and trauma) it just isn't the same. Tamlin watched as Feyre became sicker and sicker, and ignored her. Tamlin forced Feyre back to the Spring Court after she told him she didn't want to be taken from Rhys and the IC. Tamlin slut shamed her during the HL meeting. Tamlin was actively attempting to control Feyre's behavior and get her to fit what he wanted for her.

Rhys found out horrible information (on top of all the other shit that was going on in ACOSF) about the life of his mate and child. His mate who was currently overjoyed at the idea of being pregnant and having a baby. And he wanted to find a way to save her before giving her the fear, anxiety, and distress he was suffering. It wasn't about controlling her, and it wasn't about having some super baby. It wasn't the right thing to do but he didn't do it out wanting to control Feyre. That's important information and something that shouldn't be twisted.

You can dislike it (as I've stated I hate it being told in Nessian POV) but you shouldn't twist things to fit your narrative.

[natureboy96]

"You can't write/draw/think that, Feyre is/Rhysand is/Tamlin is/Nyx is/Azriel is/Lucien is/Elain is-"

Feyre/Rhysand/Tamlin are not, never have been and never can be abuse victims or abusers, because they are not real.

Nyx is not, never has been and never will be a child, because he is not real.

Elain is never going to end up with Azriel or Lucien, because they are not real.

These are not people, they are ideas presented in one way from one person. If you like the way these ideas are presented in canon, then enjoy them as they are. If you don't like them as they are, then change them to be something you want to see. If you see someone's ideas that you don't like, in canon or fandom, then find ideas you do like or make your own.

Make them all high schoolers or rival lawyers. Put them all in a polycule at a college frat house. Ship Nyx with Helion and let them fall in love (which already exists, by the way). Make them all preschoolers and reenact the Muppet Babies. Reread the books and enjoy the canon as it is if you like it.

If you see an actual person being abused or assaulted or an actual child in danger, say something. If you see someone writing about or drawing a FICTIONAL CHARACTER who has not been and never will be harmed, and you don't like it, then ignore it or block and go to the ideas you like.

we really gotta talk about this every day apparently... https://www.tumblr.com/natureboy96/759819418730741760/feyre-rhysand-and-tamlin-are-not-real-people?source=share

[acourtofthought]

I usually ignore accounts like yours (people who dedicate years to posting anti content), but your whole Truth-Teller argument is posted in such bad faith. You’re so clearly trying to twist the canon of what happened in ACOWAR to make it seem less significant by claiming that Azriel only gave TT to Elain because of Mor (which is a GIANT reach).

Here are the facts:

1. Mor begged Azriel not to fight, sure. But Azriel could have kept TT to himself, as he always has for CENTURIES. He didn’t have to offer up his weapon.

2. Azriel could have given TT to ANYONE. He could have given it to Rhys, or Cassian, or Mor (and all of those options would have made sense, given that they’re warriors). But he didn’t. He gave it to Elain.

3. The scene was significant enough that it’s symbolised on the ACOWAR cover, and has a dedicated page in the ACOTAR colouring book.

4. SJM could have written a scene in ACOWAR where Lucien offers Elain something of his instead (or even just anything romantic between the two). But he was too busy rescuing Vassa 🤷🏼‍♀️

Then there’s this comment you made, and it’s just laughable: “Did Elain seem to care about Az never having given anyone TT? Did she seem to appreciate this oh so rare and special occurrence? Or did she walk away without looking back?”

Elain never once appreciated Lucien’s gifts - they literally soured her mood. Elain has turned cold at most of Lucien’s advances and loses her newfound boldness around him. Elain was about to make out with the hottest dude in Prythian without a single care that Lucien was in the same house.

But sure, Elain handing back TT is so awful and so unromantic……

At the end of the day, SJM has very clearly set up BOTH Elriel and Elucien. There is substantial evidence and foreshadowing for both. But you don’t get to erase that evidence and foreshadowing just because you don’t personally like it.

Well, you can try, but you look very silly doing it.

Hottest dude in Prythian? Has anyone outside the NC ever called Az hot in canon? NOPE

SJM did set up E/riel! She set them up to be a rebound. Hers after Graysen and his first step towards the idea of letting go of Mor. I have never once claimed that there was not evidence of something happening between them, I simply pointed out the red flags in their pairing. Just like we saw the romantic setup for Tamlin and Feyre yet they were not meant to be endgame.

If you want to know what a real romantic setup looks like I suggest you check out the TOG series. Celaena still didn't end up with one of the love interests but their romance was written beautifully and not once did the MMC ever think "he hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to."

Awwww.....it's really cute you're putting so much weight on E/riel because of a coloring book as if that means something for endgame pairings. If I recall, there was also a scene of Feyre in her wedding dress...the one she wore to her wedding with TAMLIN.

Also, it's not symbolized on the cover of ACOWAR. The cover does not feature a hunting knife which TT is. The cover of ACOWAR features a pretty dainty dagger. Can you imagine Az wielding that around? It looks like a toothpick.

The scene is meaningful because of what Elain went on to do with the knife. Her stabbing the king is iconic. Az giving it to her is really not. Not when he only gave it to her because of Mor and not when it was Cassian who first had the thought of trying to give Elain a weapon. Not when he never gave her credit for stabbing the king. Not when she returned it and never looked back. And you're right, Az never gave it to anyone else because they were all warriors with their own weapons and he fought beside them. Why would he part with TT when he was in battle? When has he ever sat out of battle where an unarmed female was in need of a weapon to defend herself? Had she taken Cassian's Az would have never suggested TT and had Feyre not assured her she wouldn't have to use it she might have also never taken it. Might I introduce you to my favorite word "logic" because it will help you to understand why things came together the way they did and made it possible for Az to be in a place to even considering lending it out and it had nothing to do with his love for Elain. Not when he went on to look at Mor with heat and yearning months later.

Elain doesn't appreciate Lucien's gifts? So weird because I'm sure those words never once came out of her mouth and she still has them. We can't say that about Az's one gift to her though, can we? I wonder what Gwyn thought when Clotho gave it to her. I wonder if her eyes did truly light up just as Az imagined they would.

Elain loses her newfound boldness around Lucien? JUST Lucien? What exactly would you call her whispering "I'm sorry" after Az rejected her? What would you call it when she looked away from Az's smile in the book which left Cassian puzzled or her hands shaking when she handed him his gift? So very bold of her!

And Papa Archeron actually rescued Vassa considering HE is the one who bargained for her freedom. Lucien might have been with him at the lake but it's not Lucien who freed her. Also, are you honestly romanticizing Vassa's kidnapping? Thinking Lucien "I'm a mated male now and had no interest in female company" was thinking about romance while on his way to a war? Who is twisting canon again? And you're right, Lucien didn't offer Elain anything during battle because he was out risking his life for her vision, something Az didn't really care about after his big declaration that they needed a Seer.

I hope that you enjoyed your time deviating from your norm of ignoring Anti accounts such as mine (probably a lie anyway). I'm sorry to say that your words have had absolutely no effect on my opinion so from my end it seems like a waste of time but you do you.

You want to sit there and criticize my blog for having anti posts yet you're out here starting trouble so I create more. Make that make sense.

[winterinvelaris]

I think I know who the Archerons are descended from (MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE MAASVERSE)

So, I know we talk a lot about the Archerons and their potentially magical lineage, and I'd like to take my own personal stab at it: I think the sisters are descended from Dorian and Manon.

Let's talk about the surface level stuff: It's heavily implied that Dorian and Manon's relationship does not end after Kingdom of Ash. It's pretty reasonable to assume that they might've even gotten married and had children (unless the witch-typical complications prevented them from doing so). It's also very possible to assume that Throne of Glass takes place in the past. (That's a theory explanation for another day, though. emilystheories on insta has a great run down of it.) We also know that the Throne of Glass fae made their way to other worlds- perhaps even the ACOTAR universe?

The Archerons and Magic: We know that these three sisters start human, but after becoming Fae, they are MASSIVELY more powerful than most others of their species. Even before their transformations, they were powerful-- think about Nesta shielding against Tamlin's glamour and the massive amount of will and strength it canonically took both her and Elain to survive the Cauldron. This shows that they aren't your everyday, average humans. The Nesta-is-a-witch theory isn't exactly a new one- there's plenty of jokes in the text that connect her to witches that it almost feels unnecessary to mention her iron-will, her death magic, her beauty, or her bloodthirstiness. Almost. Everything about Nesta screams Ironteeth. And then there's Elain-- her connection to Dorian and Manon's magic is a little less obvious than that of her sisters. I definitely think she has more of Manon's Crochan influence than Ironteeth. The Crochan are described as peaceful and beautiful-- sound familiar? We also know that it was common for witches to be Seers and for them to make Witch Mirrors that could see through time. Now, think about Dorian's magic: raw, unspecified power that he usually uses for elemental power and shapeshifting. He favors ice, usually. Now, think about Feyre's power: abilities so diverse it might as well be raw that focuses on elemental power and shapeshifting. She and her water-wolves also have a lot of fun with the ice. VERY similar. Too similar to ignore. 

Archerons and Titles: Okay, so we know that the Archerons come from money. Or, at least they used to. It's possible for that money to have come from a royal bloodline. But that's not what's important right now. There's something that's been bugging me for a while, and I think this theory explains it. Have you noticed that Feyre (if we ignore Rhysand lol) is virtually never referred to as a queen? She's almost always called a Princess, specifically the Princess of Carrion. Nesta, despite not having an official title, is always the one who's called a Queen. Could this be a nod to the ancestors these sisters take after the most? Feyre is always called a Princess even after becoming High Lady-- quite similar to our favorite Princeling after he becomes King. Nesta has always been regarded as a Queen no matter her status-- also similar to the High Queen of witches before she got her title.

Other notable things:

The witches have the three-faced goddess. There are three Archeron sisters. Witches are usually women. Obviously, the sisters are all women. Witches raise their young to be heartless and cutthroat-- much like how Nesta was raised by their mother. Feyre's name is an ancient faerie name. The Archeron cottage had Wyrdmarks on it, implying influence from TOG in the ACOTAR world.

[lovemyromance]

Elriel is happening whether or not y'all want it to because everything SJM has said recently and throughout her books has pointed to Elriel.

And I came into this fandom genuinely un-biased. I was fully on board with Elucien at the end of ACOMAF, and it was only when I saw every Elucien interaction since then that I realized "Nope, this isn't romance. This isn't going to work out".

And don't tell me "I don't have reading comprehension" or "I don't know SJM". Literally nothing she has ever written has surprised me. No plot twist has had me clutching my pearls in shock and running around gasping for breath.

Aelin & Rowan? Knew it.

Feyre & Rhys? Knew it the minute she saw him at Calanmai in the first book.

Nesta & Cassian? Knew it from their first meeting.

Bryce & Hunt? Knew it from the moment syrinx bit him in the ass (don't ask me why that was my turning point haha)

No couple or even plot point of hers has shocked me or surprised me. Predicted everything in ACOTAR, TOG, and even the entire pack dying in CC and the culprit that was demon summoning etc. Honestly, Elucien was the only one I didn't see coming and even afterwards it just felt random to me. It felt off.

There was no build up for Elucien - before they were mates, when they got declared mates, or even after they were declared mates.

How am I supposed to root for a love story between them when even SJM hasn't rooted for that? She hasn't dropped any positive interaction between Elain & Lucien - why would she take the effort to then put "foreshadowing" hints into the background when she has done the most to send that couple into opposite corners of the continent?

If I had it my way (after Elriel ofc), I'd ship Elain with a Prince of Hel from CC3, and I'd ship Azriel with Eris.

But im not out here digging through the books trying to find random words that could possibly tie those couples together. Azriel has more tension with Eris than he does in any interaction with Gwyn, but I'm not out here saying Azris endgame??

What y'all want vs what is printed in the books is wildly different. And it sucks, but trying to call Elriels delusional because we use canon evidence and not random words taken out of context and stale SJM interviews from back when Tamlin was still "her favorite" and we didn't even KNOW Mor was gay -

Come on. Y'all are using that BC like it's your bible, when you're not even reading the scene with Azriel & Gwyn in the context of the bonus chapter - let alone reading the bonus chapter in the context of ACOSF.

Enoughhhh. I'm tired of this 😭 A ribbon and spark + endless ignoring does not make a couple an endgame over two characters that are already written to have a romantic rescue, a moment of faith, a tension-filled sexual encounter, and endless small moments in the background with each other.

[elucienweekofficial]

Elucien Fanfic Crossword Answer Key- Smut Day Two

How did you do? It's our hope through this week of puzzles that folks are able to find an existing fanfiction that speaks to them! Consider these a small masterlist filled with recommendations from the community itself. Below you'll find every fanfiction recommended attached to the author who created it, added in the order they were submitted! Fics were also categorized to their best of our ability. Check them out below!

[please check all tags before engaging!]

My Name, Your Confession by @ofduskanddreams

Elain and Lucien are both determined to ignore the bond at Nesta’s mating ceremony, but their ideas backfire as the bond chafes and they reach a breaking point.

Elain refuses to say Lucien’s name when he’s around—Lucien vows to make her scream it before the night ends. Is it really recklessness if it’s fate?

Previously titled: “He Who Must Not Be Named”

Desperate Measures by @separatist-apologist

Day Court keeps Lucien busy.

Lucky for Elain, Lucien knows just the way to rectify that.

we'll always have paris by @beesays

"Someone might see"

"So let them"

Or Elain has an exhibitionist streak and Lucien indulges.

Like A Survivor by @reispinkoveralls

Elain suggests a rather creative solution to overcome her PTSD involving Lucien and a set of chains.

So Long, London by @shadowisles-writes

"You swore that you loved me but where were the clues, I died on the altar waiting for the proof."

After the war with Hybern, Elain is welcome back into Graysen Nolan's estate to marry him. Elated to live the life she dreamed of, Elain learns to glamour herself to fit in among the humans of their village. Unable to keep away on her wedding day, Lucien paces outside until the very last moment he can interrupt to beg her to reconsider, except the scene he walks into is anything but a wedding.

Push Me Up Against The Wall by @xtaketwox

It's been 6 months since Elain's world was turned upside down by Graysen's cheating. Vassa knows just the thing to help Elain move on: Lucien

Separate My Soul From My Body by @crazy-ache

“I am Elain Archeron, sister of the High Lady of Night, Feyre the Cursebreaker. I’ve come to demand the release of Lucien Vanserra back to the custody of the Night Court.”

"And why would I do that?" The High Lord of Autumn demanded.

“Because he is my mate.”

When Lucien Vanserra is held captive by his father in the cruel depths of Autumn, there is only one force more powerful than politics that can save him—his mating bond with Elain Archeron. She must make the choice to save him, even if it means binding their souls forever.

Solstice Traditions by @infinitefolklore

Lucien comes to the River House on Winter Solstice eve with another gift for Elain. He is pleasantly surprised by her reaction.

Where's My Love by @shadowisles-writes

After getting the smallest taste of what being close to her mate might feel like, Elain can't help but need more. This is pretty much just smut.

Little Dove by @infinitefolklore

Human!Elain and Fox!Lucien

This is a slight canon divergence deleted scene.

After Feyre is taken to Spring Court, Tamlin sends Lucien to go check on the Archeron Estate. Lucien finds Elain all alone and offers her some company. Elain discusses her upcoming betrothal to Graysen, and Lucien tries to convince her to change her mind.

Kneel Before Me by @zenkindoflove

Lucien arrives at the House of Wind, only to be drawn into a sparring match with none other than the Inner Circle's own Shadowsinger. Things get out of hand and Azriel discovers whether he really can defeat Lucien easily.

Post-ACOSF, Elucien.

All Roads Lead To You by @annaskareninas

When Elain Archeron decides to travel the Continent, the last thing she expects is to run into Lucien Vanserra, her almost-mate, at a wine bar in the capital of Montesere. In fact, the only thing she expects less than that is to get extremely drunk, go skinny-dipping, and sleep with him.

The next morning, Elain flees Montesere. But it seems fate has other plans for her, because wherever she goes - Scythia, Xian, Rask - Lucien just keeps popping back up. Can she truly resist her destiny?

The Camping Trip by sunnyzoya

"Does that turn you on? Thinking about someone watching as I fuck you?"

I Think I Saw You In My Sleep by @zenkindoflove

The dreams of him come from the mating bond, but Elain wants them to stay. Elucien one-shot. Post ACOSF.

I'm Betting It All On You by @xtaketwox

Lucien is tired of living in limbo. He has a proposition for Elain. One kiss and if she still doesn't want him, he'll leave her alone forever.

Call Me When You Need by @whatishowedyouinthedark

Elain doesn’t mean to sleep with Lucien. The first time.

The Longest Night by @southsidestory & NextToSomething

The Winter Solstice is a time for gift-giving, love, and new beginnings. Elain wants none of those things from Lucien. She didn’t choose to be his mate, no more than she chose to be High Fae, and she’s not used to either yet. The only way to guard her heart is to keep her distance. But then a blizzard hits Velaris, leaving Lucien snowed in at the town house. And whether Elain likes it or not, she’s spending the night with her mate—the longest night of the year.

(A Court of Frost and Starlight canon-divergence.)

Emissaries With Benefits by @velidewrites

When diplomacy fails, Prythian courtiers Elain and Lucien like to resort to a steamier kind of negotiation.

[ofduskanddreams]

Pierce The Clouds

for @elucienweekofficial day 2: magic

A/N: I say this is "from the vault" because it's based on part of an old (no longer public) fic that I plan to rewrite if I ever have the time. I wasn't planning on posting anything today, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head so here we are :)

READ ON AO3 | RATED: E | CANON-TYPICAL VIOLENCE | 8.3k WORDS

When Lucien encounters trouble in the mortal lands, the bond draws Elain's shuttered power to the surface. Everyone knows that getting between a Fae and their injured mate is a death wish, but no one, not even Elain, knows just how far her magic is willing to go.

Lucien

He winnowed directly from the entrance of the Hewn City into his apartment in Velaris. He kicked off his shoes and fell back onto his bed, ignoring the slight cloud of dust that puffed up from the duvet on impact. 

Two minutes, he told himself. Two minutes to close his eyes and soak in the blissful silence.

Lucien didn’t want to think about that meeting, it all made him too uneasy. Eris had mentioned nothing about a plan to kill Beron, he’d simply thanked Rhys again for hosting him for Winter Solstice again and made a snide comment about how unfortunate it was that Cassian—“that Illyrian brute” as Eris called him—didn’t let him within twenty feet of Nesta this year. 

Rhys, looking as bored as ever, had signed his approval on a trade agreement between the Nightmares and Eris’s territory in Autumn: ore for agricultural products. Lucien and Rhys spoke mind-to-mind about how it was suspiciously mutually beneficial, but on paper, he could make no objections.

Dealing with Eris always left him unsettled, and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Growing up with his brothers, it was second nature to expect every good deed to have an equally bad counterpart. But with Eris, the shoe hadn’t dropped. Yet. That was the most unnerving thing, what would be the cost of centuries of Eris’s so-called generosity towards him?

With a groan, Lucien forced himself to get up and change. He grabbed the second bag in the line of pre-packed leather duffels lining the wall near the door. It was a system he had developed while working as Tamlin’s emissary. A bag of necessities and appropriate clothing for each of Prythian’s courts, spelled with simple enchantments to keep everything fresh and wrinkle-free. The bag in his hand, for the human lands, was newer than the others yet still worn and marked by a small white leather tag.

Rhys had suggested that Lucien take Eris’s news that all was quiet with Beron and Koschei to Vassa sooner rather than later. The knowing look in Rhys’s eyes made it clear he was offering Lucien an out from family dinner should he want it. 

With a wave of his hand, Lucien put out the fire in his fireplace and winnowed to the woods outside the wards he’d placed on Vassa’s manor. The near evening light lacked any sparkle as it filtered through the dull green canopy above him. He was grateful to Rhys; he didn’t want to think about trying to face Elain right now, unsettled as he was. It was hard enough to play that politely distanced courtier for her on a good day. 

Lucien was a patient male, he prided himself on his self-control but even he had his limits. Elain wasn’t happy. He felt it through their dulled bond, and his instincts screamed at him to do something about it but he couldn’t. Being around her made it even more obvious and equally more difficult to ignore. Elain acted like she was happy, and was probably unaware that he knew her true feelings. It wasn’t his place to say anything so he’d been distancing himself. It seemed to be what she wanted.

Lucien walked through the manor’s gates and immediately came face-to-face with a flustered Jurian.

Jurian braced a hand on his shoulder as he caught his breath. “Impeccable…timing,” Jurian wheezed.

Lucien’s metal eye whirred in its socket, examining. The wards were fine. Nothing was on fire. There were no screams or clashing blades ringing through the air.

“What’s wrong?” he asked Jurian.

“I was just about to send for you,” Jurian began, leading him towards the manor doors. “A few minutes ago, I had a runner come saying that there was a fight on the border. Apparently some of Nolan’s men got into it with a unit of your Prythian Guard.”

“Fuck,” Lucien exhaled, dread simmering in his veins. “Any injuries? Casualties?”

Jurian shook his head as they entered the manor hall. “The poor kid only said one injury before passing out on my office floor.”

“We don’t know if they were human or Fae?” Lucien inquired, dropping his bag and taking out the spare dagger he kept there. He sheathed it next to the short sword he always carried on his right hip.

“No,” Jurian sighed. “Since it could be either, I think it’s best if we both go.”

Lucien nodded in grim agreement.

It took them half an hour’s hard riding to reach the second garrison of the Prythian Guard. The Guard had been one of Lucien’s better ideas, endorsed by Rhys to address Tamlin’s non-existent border security. It was a peacekeeping force made up of Fae representing every court to monitor the border where the wall once stood.

It would have been easy for Lucien to winnow himself and Jurian, but riding in alongside the former human general sent a better message in this situation that and outcomes, could easily escalate into a greater conflict. Riding was also a thrill Lucien had enjoyed for as long as he could remember. He didn’t understand why most High Fae avoided it.

The sun was setting when Lucien dismounted at the wooden gate and nodded to Jurian. He would continue on to Nolan’s outpost and figure out what he could. With both sides of the story, maybe the two of them could piece together what actually happened.

The guard standing watch—Winter Court if his fair hair, skin, and frosty eyes were a sign—opened the gate for Lucien with a deferential nod.

“They’re all in the main hall,” he said, taking the reins from Lucien.

As he crossed the dirt courtyard, Lucien tried his best not to jump to morbid conclusions. The likelihood of this sparking another human-fae war was slim. If he was being honest, he’d poured so much of himself into maintaining peace since the war with Hybern ended that any breach of it felt like a personal attack. He was glad that his magic was still drained from all the winnowing he’d done in the last day and a half. If it hadn’t been, sparks would fly from his fingertips.

The sight that met Lucien in the chamber was far from encouraging. The assembled grave-faced guards stepped aside in a wave of pewter gray to reveal a male laying on a table. For a sickening heartbeat the male’s golden hair looked like Tamlin’s, but as Lucien stepped closer, he saw gray hairs mingled with gold and speckled with blood.

Lucien had to grip the table to keep from falling to his knees, because the male taking wet, ragged breaths was Valin.

“Lucien,” a voice addressed him. 

Lucien looked up from the table to find Bron, one of Tamlin’s former sentries standing beside him, the crest of a commander on his gray uniform.

“What happened?” Lucien seethed behind gritted teeth.

“Valin had his unit on their regular patrol when they came across a bunch of Nolan’s men, drunk. They were aggressive, trying to cross the border and hoping for revenge from the sound of it. The unit followed protocol and was working to disarm the group with minimal injury when Valin took a scatter-ash arrow to the chest. Under Valin’s orders, they didn’t retaliate and half of them escorted Nolan’s men back to their outpost while the rest brough Valin here.”

“I should have known the prospect of ordering people around would have drawn Valin out of retirement.” Lucien and Bron exchanged sad smiles. Valin was Andras’s older brother, had been the captain of Tamlin’s sentries since his father had ruled Spring. He retired a few decades after Lucien arrived in the court, to start a family when he found his mate. But they’d stayed friends, Lucien had visited often and written when he couldn’t.

“Talia should be here soon, I sent a winnower to her as soon as I saw him,” Bron spoke quietly.

“He won’t make it?”

Bron closed his eyes and shook his head. “Scatter-ash, it’s Nolan’s latest invention. The arrow heads and lower shafts are made of ash chips somehow melded together so they break into pieces if the arrow hits bone or is removed.”

Lucien’s elbows hit the table as he rested his head in his hands. The sound of running footsteps made him snap upright, just in time to see Talia burst through the doors. She froze, nostrils flaring as she scented her mate’s blood.

“Everybody back to your posts,” Lucien ordered softly, and the room cleared save for himself, Talia and Bron.

In the blink of an eye, Talia was standing beside her mate clutching his hand to her chest. Her translucent wings shivered as tears fell silently down her face.

The room was quiet, save for Valin’s jagged breaths that were slowing by the minute. Lucien and Bron stood together in mute vigil for their fallen friend and mentor as the sun sank beneath the horizon, coloring the room a somber shadow-blue. Lucien would never forget the moment Valin’s heart stopped and his soul crossed the Veil. Talia froze before she began shaking. Then she fell to her knees, hands clasped over her heart and screamed.

That scream of unearthly sorrow and rage and grief hit Lucien like a serrated blade to the gut. He saw Bron stagger as well under the weight of Talia’s pain as half of her soul was ripped out and cast to the void. Lucien had only read about what could happen following the death of one’s mate. He couldn’t stop himself from picturing Elain on that table, dead. The thought of that golden light in his chest winking out threatened the stability of Lucien’s knees.

The wail turned to a choked-off sob. He wished he could go to her, but there was no comfort he could give that would ease the force of her grief. Eventually the sobbing stopped and Talia slowly turned to them.

“Who?” she growled, rage blazing in her eyes.

“Talia, an off-duty human guard shot him,” Lucien spoke carefully with his hands outstretched, palms up in a gesture of peace. “I will meet with Lord Nolan in the morning and demand he turn over the man responsible. His judgment will be yours to give.”

Lucien looked to the side at Bron who gave an imperceptible nod before he stepped forward slowly. 

Bron approached her as one might a spooked horse. All Fae knew there were few things as dangerous as a mate seeking retribution—instinct could spark a bloodlust in the most peaceful of souls. Once Lucien felt relatively sure that Talia would allow Bron to help her prepare her mate’s body for the pyre without killing him, he slipped out of the room and down a narrow hall to the guest officer’s quarters. 

He wasn’t able to shake the smothering, bone-rending sadness he felt. He couldn’t bear the thought of what Talia must be going through; couldn’t stop his mind from reliving the night Jesminda’s life was stolen by his folly.

Lucien collapsed onto the small bed in the dark, cold room. He couldn’t staunch that gut-wrenching grief he’d buried so deep. He closed his eyes but immediately saw the light leaving Jes’s walnut eyes. When he heard the wet slice of a blade meeting bone, of her head hitting the stone, Lucien’s eyes flew open. He was drowning in grief too long ignored.

He jolted when there was a sharp tug behind his ribs, hard enough that his breath hitched.

Then there was a bright warmth blooming. 

Lucien sat up, but no—he hadn’t accidentally started a fire. It happened rarely, when the nightmares were at their worst and he would wake to the acrid scent of burning fabrics.

An image of small hands buried in a white mane flying flashed in front of his mind's eye.

And then he was a youngling hiding in the kitchens while his mother baked apple crumble and he stole as many bites as he could.

Lucien lay back and let his head hit the pillow as he was surrounded by the colors of autumn, shrouded in a blanket of sunset and he felt peace.

It was Elain; he realized with no small amount of wonder. Elain must have sensed him. 

All the hollow sadness was suddenly filled with a nervous amount of hope dashed with embarrassment. He was careful to keep his emotions to himself, had never slipped up like this before. Cauldron, she must have felt everything. The hope was a soft glow, Elain had never touched their bond before.

Jurian met him at the Garrison at dawn. From what he heard at Nolan’s outpost, it was exactly as Bron described. Nolan’s men claimed the fault lay with the Fae, but Jurian believed the guard had done everything by the parameters of the treaty.

Jurian agreed with Lucien’s plan to deliver Valin’s assailant to Talia. Then again, Jurian was one of the few humans with firsthand experience of what mates were capable of when truly motivated.

Lucien didn’t waste time setting out for the Nolan’s manor, assured that Jurian would inform Vassa of everything that had occurred. His magic was still somewhat drained so Lucien opted to ride again.

Recalling the memory from the previous night, Lucien smiled to himself. If Elain enjoyed riding, maybe he could ask her to accompany him some time. 

Lucien dismounted when the manor’s gates were in sight, leaving the horse to graze on dew-dampened grass. He’d only come to Nolan’s manor on foot before, better to lessen the chances of aggravating anyone. The guards posted on the gate were two Lucien didn’t recognize. He stopped some twenty paces back, their loaded crossbows trained on him. 

“Stay right where you are, Fae filth,” the shorter of the two guards called out. “Your kind isn’t welcome here.”

Lucien held both of his hands up, showing that he would make no move for his weapon.

“My name is Lucien Vanserra. I am an emissary, I mean no harm.” He choked on his family name but that was how the humans did it and he was here for the sake of peace. “I’ve been here several times before,” Lucien took a careful step forward. His gaze flicked between the short one and the one whose eyes were wide with fear. “Your commander knows me, he can verify my identity.”

“How do we know this isn’t just some magic trick?” the short one sneered.

Lucien took a calming breath, “I am here under the terms of the treaty between our peoples, that includes not using glamours to deceive you.” He took another careful step forward.

Only to be knocked back by a blinding pain near his heart. His ears rang, but he could hear the cadence of conversation. 

“You idiot. Set the lord’s hounds on him, leave no evidence.”

Then there was a riot of barking. For half a second Lucien found himself back in Eris’s kennels, the hounds greeting him. But these were not those hounds. 

Lucien felt several sets of teeth sink into his limbs. He couldn’t just stay here and die. That wasn’t right. It would hurt her. Elain. 

Elain, the name clanged through him. 

He needed a chance with Elain, with his mate.

Lucien reached deeply for whatever threads of dwindling magic he could grab and threw himself into the darkness, thinking of the first place that sprang into his mind. 

He didn’t remember how he crawled up the steps and through the off-kilter door, but his eyes opened to stare down at the familiar black-and-white checkered marble floors. His eyes closed at the sound of talons clicking against the cracked stone that shifted to familiar footsteps as every thought eddied out of his head and the world bled black.

Tamlin

He scented Lucien long before he saw the male. Tamlin cursed the spark of hope that warmed him at the thought that Lucien might give him another chance. But then he neared the manor and scented Lucien's blood and red stained his vision. He ran.

There was too much blood—the wounds weren’t closing. Cauldron, were those bite marks? Tamlin’s heart was beating too quickly, his hands crimson-slicked as he gently turned Lucien onto his back to reveal the splintered shaft of an ash arrow embedded not a finger’s width from his heart. Tamlin quickly dragged a talon across his ankle; it stung and bled a drop before closing—not a nightmare then.

Fuck.

Tamlin forced himself to breathe. To think. He would lose no one else. There were no healers here anymore. No one was here. So he had to go where healers were. Where there were people who were better for Lucien than he was.

Never again, he told himself. I won’t lose him again.

Tamlin summoned the strength he often tried to forget and, with enough force that the ground rumbled, he spoke from his mind, projecting it far north.

Rhysand. I’m bringing Lucien to you. I mean no harm. He’s dying, he needs a Healer.

Tamlin gathered Lucien into his arms and winnowed. Lucien was the only thing he had left to lose.

Time seemed to slow as the darkness pressed upon him. The first rule of winnowing is to have a clear picture of your destination. Lucien had told him about Velaris before Tamlin had banned him from his court in anger. Centuries before that, lifetimes ago really, the heir of Night and the son of Spring had gotten drunk together. The memory of Rhys’s description was faded but better than nothing, so Tamlin held that image close. 

Another image flashed before him, star-tinged—from Rhysand. A wrought-iron fence before the small yard of a home on a quiet street. 

Then he was there, shoving aside that gate and bounding up the steps. The door opened for him and Tamlin barely noted the towering Illyrian wings he brushed past as he moved to lay Lucien down on the table. A gray-haired female stepped towards Lucien’s prone form and Tamlin bit back a snarl, at the same time the High Lord of Night’s hand came down on his shoulder.

Madja’s our best healer, she’ll do all she can, Rhysand spoke into his mind.

“It's a new kind of ash arrow. It breaks into shards when disturbed,” Tamlin explained, his long unused voice rasping. “He winnowed from the mortal lands to my manor with that much ash in him. I would have said it’s not possible, but he did it.” 

Madja nodded to him and turned back to Lucien. “Sons of fire don’t burn out easily, this one still has a chance.”

Tamlin sagged with relief, then quickly straightened his spine. He’d already let these males see too much of him.

“Here,” Cassian grunted and shoved a glass of whiskey into Tamlin’s faintly trembling hands.

The reality of his situation came into sharp focus as the instinctive drive to protect his closest friend faded. He was in the Night Court. He didn’t exactly ask to come. They had every valid reason to hate him, especially Rhys and Feyre. Cauldron, they were the same reasons he hated himself. He could see Rhysand and Cassian exchanging a look that meant they were mind-speaking. Cassian… Rhysand’s General.

The gears turned. He was a High Lord who winnowed uninvited into another court’s territory. An action any laws of Prythian could construe as an act of war that. Tamlin swallowed the rest of his drink painfully. 

There was only one way to guarantee this didn’t turn that direction. 

So, Tamlin set down his glass and crossed the room to where Rhys stood. Pride be damned, he had already lost everything at this point. Tamlin took a deep breath and placed his right fist over his heart, speaking the ancient words: “I, Tamlin, High Lord of Spring, thank you for offering me aid in my time of need. As payment for this debt I will grant you, Rhysand, High Lord of Night, a boon. Please accept my gratitude.”

Faint clinks made by ash splinters landing in a metal basin punctuated the silence. Tamlin kept his eyes downcast at the red patterned rug until Rhysand held out a tattooed hand.

Tamlin clasped it with his own. 

“I accept,” Rhysand responded, his expression guarded.

A shockwave of magic radiated through Velaris as the bargain inked itself across the High Lords’ wrists, setting the glasses rattling.

Then, the door to the townhouse swung open with such force that the little window in it shattered. 

Elain Archeron burst into the room. Her half-feral eyes stopped on Lucien, then flitted to Tamlin as he stood and turned towards her. Her brown eyes turned to silver as she took in the blood staining Tamlin’s clothes. 

Her rage was an aura shimmering at the edges of her. She winnowed across the room in a blink, appearing in front of Tamlin and slamming him back into the wall. Her forearm pushed into his throat. She growled, each word dripping with the promise of blood: “What. Happened. To. My. Mate.”

Elain

This wasn’t right. Elain looked around at the bare-boned trees shivering dark against a faded sky.

She was in Velaris. She was staring at a rosebush. There were clippers in her hand.

But when Elain looked down, there were no clippers, and the air was colder and dulled. It took a moment for recognition to set in—she recognized these woods, that far-off stone wall with its grotesque iron gate.

She shouldn’t be here. 

Couldn’t be. 

That was Lord Nolan’s manor, but she was in Velaris. Feyre and Nyx and Cerridwen were playing on the other side of the gardens. She was listening to them moments ago.

But this world was silent.

She realized it was a vision when her feet began moving against her will.

Suddenly, she stood before the gates staring at two guards in Graysen’s father’s colors. But the vision shattered, cracking and falling like the shards of a mirror. 

And then Elain was curled up on the grass of her garden with a searing white pain in her chest. Feyre was screaming.

The world was shaking—no, that was her, shaking. Being shook.

“...lain. Elain, please open your eyes,” Feyre’s voice pleaded.

Elain slowly obeyed, squinting and blinking and trying to adjust to the brightness of the sun above her. It was hard to do anything with the memory of that pain echoing across her skin.

“I…” Elain’s voice cracked, her mind still reeling. “I had a vision, I’m fine,” she said weakly as she let Feyre help her sit up.

Elain realized her mistake when she saw how wide Feyre’s eyes had grown. 

“You had… a vision?” Feyre parsed out the words on her tongue, piecing together her elder sister’s lies of the past year and a half. “Elain,” Feyre said with an equal amount of shame and reproach. She took a deep breath, then said more gently, “Let’s get you inside, okay?” 

Was this the moment when the world crashed down around her feet? This lie, her secret, no doubt already reaching the minds of the inner circle via Rhys. Because this changed everything. That was part of the reason Elain had hidden it.

Elain nodded and let Feyre tug her to her feet.

She wasn’t dumb, though it made life easier when people thought she was. While the others thought she only read books on flowers or the romances Nesta pawned off on her, Elain had done her research. She knew Clotho had a personal weakness for lemon tarts and that the female was happy to offer her the sanctuary of the Library beneath the House of the Wind regardless of the unseemly times of day she showed up. 

Elain knew how rare Seers were. She knew how they were coveted by High Lords and Kings, wooed and worshiped until they were locked up or literally chained to a wall in one case. It was a terrible power, she’d never understood….

Why, in those frozen depths of the Cauldron, when the Mother had examined her soul and somehow found her ‘worthy,’ had she cursed Elain with this ‘gift’ that often drove its bearers to madness? 

Yes, the Mother’s gift included many other things Elain didn’t understand, but she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to be a Seer, didn’t want to live with the constant threat of her mind being violated by the past or future. She didn’t want to deal with the burden of trying to unravel all those damned riddles her sight enjoyed laying at her feet.

Swallowing her anxiety down, Elain let Feyre lead her into the house and press a cup of tea into her hands. But that pain was still throbbing—enough to make her feel lightheaded. Elain couldn’t shake off the small voice screaming “something is wrong.” 

And then it clicked into place. Lucien. She’d been sensing him through the bond more recently. That must have been his pain. Which meant something had gone terribly wrong… Nolan’s manor. That vision had been of Lucien, or at least what had happened to him.

“Elain, what can I do?” Feyre’s question broke the clamor of her thoughts.

Mate. Protect him. Save him. That inner voice commanded with so much dominance Elain almost leapt off of the settee despite herself.

She couldn’t deny what she saw, what she was feeling. But something stopped her from voicing all of it to her sister. 

“I… I think I would like to lie down for a while, if that’s alright,” she answered Feyre in that soft small voice everyone thought was her only one.

Elain lost herself in thought while she allowed Feyre to lead her up to her room. She didn’t understand this thing writhing within her, this bond. Lucien was a stranger. Yet, even as a stranger Elain didn’t wish that kind of pain on anyone—she wanted to help, to soothe, to heal. Those had always been her core intentions. Even before she nearly drowned in the Cauldron and somehow emerged with the gifts of the Mother that made those instincts stronger. 

She hadn’t realized it until that fateful day, nearly a year ago when Nesta had sacrificed her magic to save Nyx, Feyre and Rhys. That was when that shimmering well of power sparked. While Nesta had laid herself across Feyre’s ashen form, Elain had dived into that inner abyss—had begged the Mother to let Nesta stay, to see that Nesta’s heart wasn’t owned by the Cauldron’s icy void, that Nesta was just trying to protect everyone, that Nesta deserved to live.  

Thankfully, the Mother had listened. Elain had mentioned nothing about that day. She scarcely dared think about it. Nesta would have died if the Mother hadn’t intervened. It was only the second time Elain had ever let that power fill her veins, to sever the Cauldron’s grip of Nesta’s soul—to keep it from killing her. The first had been during the war when she’d somehow winnowed and found her hand clenched tight around Truth-Teller, buried in the King of Hybern’s neck. 

Feyre drew the curtains shut while Elain sat on the edge of her bed. 

 Please leave, Elain hoped as Feyre turned towards her in the dim faelight.

“Do you want to be alone?” her sister asked.

“I think I’ll sleep for a while.” Elain pasted on an encouraging smile.

Save him. Save him. Don’t let it fade. The voice chanted.

As soon as the door shut behind Feyre, Elain moved: out to the balcony, down the trellis of ivy. She knew the way with her eyes closed. She’d spent many sleepless nights watching the Sidra drift by or scanning dusty tomes for answers that didn’t exist.

Elain’s slippered feet hit the frostbitten earth, the voice growing louder. She was tired of fighting it so, for the third time, Elain gave up. She let that shimmering light rise to the surface, allowed that voice to guide her steps. When she reached inside for that golden ribbon she knew would lead her to Lucien, she fell to her knees in the dead grass. 

No.

There wasn’t a ribbon. There were only ragged threads. Elain focused her hearing, no matter where he went she could hear it. His heartbeat was there, but it was too slow.

No.

Save him. Save him. Protect. Defend.

Elain let that unknown power force her shaking legs to stand. She could question all of this when she knew Lucien was safe. She’d already broken character, let Feyre see the truth. Pretense was irrelevant now. It was the least she could do after all, for the male whom had saved her countless times without knowing it.

She took a step forward, letting that power fill her vision as darkness pressed in on all sides and then she was standing outside of the townhouse. She’d winnowed again, somehow. Elain would worry about that another time. 

The air smelled strange. She could scent Lucien, closely mingled with another of stale flowers and rain and… blood. Icy dread sluiced through her veins at the realization it was Lucien’s blood. All Elain saw was red and light. She felt a pulse of magic, heard a faint shatter of glass.

Mate. Save him. Protect him.

There was Madja, staring blankly at her, bent over Lucien’s body—he was unconscious and covered in drying blood.

“Mate. Protect,” was the last thing Elain remembered hearing before her power consumed her completely.

Elain woke to the sound of hushed voices. She was lying on a hard surface.

“Was knocking her out really necessary?” Nesta quietly snarled.

“I didn’t ‘knock her out,’ I put her to sleep,” Rhys’s voice was calm yet equally hushed. “She wasn’t herself, Nesta. I didn’t want her to hurt anyone or hurt herself.”

“I thought she didn’t have magic anymore,” Cassian said.

“Well, I knew something was still there,” Amren sounded smug.

Elain cracked an eye open, just enough to get a blurry image of the scene. Feyre was slowly shaking her head, looking at the floor. They were still in the townhouse. Her head felt like someone had split her skull with a hammer and chisel.

“I found her unconscious in the garden this afternoon. I couldn’t get into her mind but when she woke up, she said she’d had a vision. I don’t know if it’s happened before, or if she’s aware of this power,” Feyre murmured.

“How long will she be asleep?” Nesta asked, concerned.

“She’s already awake,” a deep voice like honey rumbled from directly behind her, though it sounded strained.

Elain bolted upright, scrambled off the table and nearly head-butted the wall as the room swayed beneath her feet. Her fingertips dug into the molded oak paneling but then Nesta’s hands gripped her shoulders and steadied her. One of those hands moved to her cheek as Nesta turned her face to examine it. Elain shook off Nesta’s hand and turned back to look at the wide dining table where Lucien lay, his hair a sanguine red against a blue pillow.

She took a shaky step toward him before she stopped herself, ignoring that voice demanding she run to him and make sure he’s okay.

“Lucien,” she breathed. Her throat felt raw, like she had been screaming. She swallowed, painfully. “Are… are you going to be alright?”

“Right as rain, Lady,” he said with a smirk that twisted into a grimace as he coughed

Liar.

“He’ll be perfectly healed in a few days,” Madja explained from a chair by the fire. “He’s lucky he got here when he did, a few more minutes and some of those splinters would have reached his heart.”

“How do you feel, Elain?” Nesta asked softly, holding Elain’s elbow.

“I’m fine Nesta.” Elain’s words were clipped. She hated this feeling, that dark gap in her memory. 

Lucien coughed again, “She’s about thirty seconds from passing out if her heartbeat—cough—doesn’t slow and she has one of the worst burnout headaches I’ve ever felt.” His voice grew progressively quieter as he spoke. 

Elain rapidly snapped up her mental shields, but the exertion made her stumble.

Nesta gently shoved her down into an overstuffed armchair and forced a cup of water into her hand, gray eyes gleaming like daggers as she demanded Elain to drink.

Madja shuffled over and placed a wrinkled hand on Elain’s shoulder, the pounding in her head subsided but didn’t disappear. 

Feyre sat down on the ottoman in front of her chair. “Elain, can you tell me what happened? Do you remember?” 

Elain looked around the room. Lucien was now half sitting, propped up on a bunch of pillows. Nesta stood behind her chair, Cassian close to her side. Amren perched on an arm of the sofa where Rhys and Madja sat, behind Feyre. Azriel stood near the arched opening to the dining room, his shadows blending into the darkness behind him. What did she remember? What did she want to remember?

Elain knew she should handle this carefully, that she could play it right and keep things mostly the way they were before. But her head was so foggy, everything about her felt sluggish. What she remembered after she left her room were flashes, nothing coherent. Elain remembered the pain on Feyre’s face in the garden, when she’d suspected Elain had been lying.

Pain. She was in pain. Lucien was in pain. There was too much of it. Elain was tired. So very, very tired of pain. Elain took a deep breath and spoke.

“Earlier, I had a… vision.” She tucked her hand beneath her thighs to stop herself from wringing her fingers. “I saw the gates of Lord Nolan’s manor.” She forced her gaze to meet Lucien’s, “I felt those guards shoot you.”

Her eyes closed as her voice cracked. She couldn’t look at him without that voice chanting all the things she should do to those guards. Elain took a deep breath, “I felt your pain, that’s how I knew it was you. I feel nothing in my visions.” Unless they are about you, she finished in her head.

“I remember Feyre taking me up to my room. I remember leaving as soon as she left. I… I just couldn’t let anyone be in that kind of pain when I knew there was something I could do to help. When I tried to find you the bond—it was fading. I panicked, I could sense you were close to death.” Elain swiped an errant tear from her cheek. She shouldn’t be crying over a stranger. 

“That thing, that voice panicked and I could feel a sort of light, a power inside me and it wanted to get out. I could barely think straight so I let it—it felt like my best chance to find him. After that, it's just fragments. I remember standing outside of the townhouse. I remember it smelled wrong, like rain and dying flowers and Lucien’s blood.”

Elain noticed Feyre’s nostrils flare, then her whole body went rigid and her face paled. She stiffly nodded for Elain to continue but her eyes glazed over slightly.

“That’s really all I can remember.” Elain looked to the dancing flames behind the grate.

The silence in the room was broken when Rhys spoke a name, “Mor?”

Morrigan winced as she stepped out of Azriel’s shadows. “That's all she remembers,” she said Rhys.

Fuck. They used Mor? Was their distrust in her truly so immense? It hurt, more than Elain expected it would. Not that she could really blame them. Lucien looked shocked, but it seemed the others were aware. Mor, at least, had the decency to look apologetic.

Feyre moved off of the ottoman to sit on Rhys’s lap. Her color was better, whatever they’d spoken about mind-to-mind had worked. Rhys cleared his throat, “Well, let me show you all what I remember.”

Elain was grateful she was sitting down or she might have fainted as Rhys’s experience of events played through everyone’s minds, stopping on an image of her pinning Tamlin against the wall by his throat. 

“Fascinating,” Amren mused. She cocked her head, those unholy steel eyes flitting between Elain and Nesta, analyzing them as if they were one of her many puzzles. 

Elain’s mind was still trying to catch up with everything Rhys had revealed when she felt a sharp spike of self-loathing. She looked over to Lucien who wore a haunted expression.

“Stop that!” Elain hissed at him. 

Lucien’s russet and gold gaze turned sharply on her and Elain clapped a hand over her mouth, felt her eyes widen.

“Sorry I just… none of this was your fault Lucien,” she stammered, warmth rising to her cheeks.

“No, that’s not… never mind. You’re right,” his words were stilted. 

Elain noticed the others glancing between them, their faces betraying an odd mix of confusion and amusement. 

Before she had time to respond, Nesta snickered “You—you really…. Honestly, I’m jealous.”

Elain was confused. 

Nesta sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Just—the next time you nail Tamlin’s balls to the wall—wait for me.”

Feyre snorted softly. 

Slowly, Elain turned to Rhys. “I…. Oh Gods… I attacked a High Lord… did I start a war?”

She held no sympathy for Tamlin, but Prythian was still recovering from the last war.

Rhys shook his head with a gentle smile. He asked Lucien, “Are you feeling well enough to head to the River House?”

Lucien nodded once.

“Right then, we will continue this discussion after we’ve all had something to eat,” Rhys concluded.

Cassian mumbled “about damn time,” as he and Nesta made their way outside.

Amren held her hand out expectantly to Azriel who rolled his eyes before winnowing away with the tiny ancient one in tow.

Rhys slung and arm around Lucien’s broad shoulders as he helped him stand. Elain was momentarily stunned because Lucien was taller than Rhys when she saw them side by side. No, that was a dumb thing to realize and why now…. Elain blinked a few times to clear her head.

Feyre and Mor were looking at her, waiting. Elain looked back at Lucien and Rhys, the latter now looking at her in silent question. 

She slowly rose to her feet, pleasantly surprised to find her legs steady. Elain took a step towards Feyre but the disquiet in her gut increased and she hesitated. 

“I’ll go with Lucien and Rhys,” she found herself saying. The nervous energy settled a bit more with each step towards them.

She didn’t even attempt to decipher the meaning in Rhys’s knowing gaze. Elain took his arm, and they winnowed to the lawn of the River House. Cassian was waiting for them by the door, taking over as Lucien’s support and disappearing into the house. Elain made to follow them but Rhys gently stopped her. 

“What?” Elain cocked her head at the High Lord of Night. For that definitely was not the expression of her smartass brother-in-law.

“I will allow you into this house if you swear to do no harm to my mate, my son, or any other members of my inner circle or guests of my household.” Rhys’s voice was the deep cold of a midwinter’s night.

Elain took a step back, eyes stinging. Did Rhys really think she would hurt her sisters, hurt Nyx?

His expression softened slightly, “The vow is a formality, Elain. I don’t think you would intentionally harm anyone but you… you weren’t yourself this morning. It will give you peace of mind as well, a guarantee that no one you care about would get hurt if you lost control again.”

That would be true, she supposed.

A part of her bristled at the ultimatum, that Rhys—the champion of choices—didn’t give her one. Another part of her was grateful, she didn’t trust herself. Hadn’t since she’d come out of the Cauldron. She’d buried her powers so deep because they scared her—that potential loss of control was absolutely terrifying. 

“I swear to do no harm to my sisters, my nephew, or any members of the inner circle or guests of your household,” Elain repeated as she held out her hand. 

Elain didn’t realize she was freezing until Rhys’s hand wrapped around hers, the warmth and the zing of magic pulsing through the air gave her goosebumps. She looked at their clasped hands and saw a tiny star tattooed on the inside of her right wrist. It was… cute.

Elain paid little attention to anything during dinner. Thankfully, everyone seemed happy to carry on their conversations without her. She wasn’t surprised, they normally were. She downed her first glass of wine and spent an hour picking at her food. Elain was grateful to be sitting next to Mor. In quiet solidarity, Mor kept pace with Elain. When the meal ended the two of them had finished a bottle.

She followed the others through to the sitting room, every sense softer—and she was delightfully warm. The events of the day felt less world-shattering. Elain’s mind was still drifting when Rhys called for everyone’s attention. Only then did the room come into focus. Amren, Feyre, and Nesta were giving her odd looks. She glanced down to see if she’d accidentally spilled wine on her dress only to meet Lucien’s russet-gold stare, not a foot below her.

Elain wished the floors would open up and swallow her. Apparently while her mind had wandered, her feet had carried her to stand halfway behind the chair where Lucien sat near the fire.

Good. He is still healing, watch over him, the voice said. 

Elain almost jumped at the sound, it hadn't spoken in hours.

To move away now, after everyone else had settled would be even more awkward, so Elain stayed. 

It’s just the bond. Just my instincts — it means nothing. They all know that, she talked herself down before she could feel too flustered.

“Alright Amren,” Rhys said coolly, holding his palm out in an invitation to speak.

Elain’s heart jumped into her throat. She felt like a child again, waiting for her mother’s tongue-lashing.

Would they ship her away like Nesta, or worse? At least Nesta hadn’t tricked everyone. She’d lied, but the lies were obvious. Elain had manipulated her family’s goodwill against them, for her own selfish comfort. She knew her powers could make a profound difference in the world… if she could bear to face them. 

She wasn’t like her sisters. She wasn’t a warrior; she didn’t want to lead people; she didn’t even want to be here half of the time. Elain missed being human, she missed the life Hybern and the Cauldron had stolen from her. She didn’t want this power in her veins so she’d done her best to ignore its existence.

Amren looked at Elain, her bobbed hair swaying as her head again tilted to the side, assessing. “This isn’t the first time. Is it, girl?”

“No,” Elain hated how meek her voice sounded.

“Well?” Amren motioned for her to elaborate. 

Elain took a deep breath that did nothing to steady her so she gripped the back of the chair, low enough that no one could see how weak she was. Feyre had no trouble commanding a room of faeries who hated her, but Elain was not her sister.

“I… um.” Elain stuttered.

Lucien shifted in front of her, crossing his arms and her breath hitched when she felt warm fingers brush against hers. The contact grounded her.

She swallowed and spoke. “The first time was during the war. I was pacing in camp when I saw Nesta’s blast. Felt it. I could sense something beneath my skin, like I was burning from the inside.” 

“I knew something bad was happening, could feel it in my bones. And then I heard a voice, your voice.” Elain looked at her little sister. “You begged me to save them.”

“I begged the Cauldron to save them,” Feyre explained. “How did you hear that?”

“The Cauldron and its power answer to ultimately to her, at least in this world. She knew you needed help,” Elain replied.

“Her?” Feyre asked.

“This world?” Rhys spoke at the same moment as his mate.

Elain blushed, she definitely said too much.

“Don’t get distracted, girl,” Amren chided.

Elain nodded and continued, “Well, I don’t know what I did. I just… let go. Let the light burn. And the next thing I can remember is my hand covered in blood holding Truth-Teller’s hilt in that King’s neck. I don’t know how I got there. I panicked when I realized what was happening—what I did. And well, Nesta took over then.”

Lucien’s fingers twitched against hers, the slight touch doing more to comfort her than was logical.

“The second time was different, internal. It was when Nyx was born,” Elain explained. Everyone in the room sat up a little straighter at that. 

“What I saw,” Cassian blurted out, “that was you? You stopped the Cauldron from taking all of Nesta’s power.”

“Not exactly me, but yes. I… well, it’s hard to explain since I don’t really understand it.” Elain paused, she really didn’t know if this would make any sense. 

“Just tell us as best as you can,” Lucien spoke for the first time since they’d gathered. 

“Well Nesta, remember the terms of your bargain? I’d seen what would happen, only I didn’t realize what the vision meant until you first said ‘I give it all back.’ The vision was a phrase: one life for three, moonlit death, what a bargain.” 

Elain saw Cassian stiffen as the meaning of the words hit him, he drew his wing closer around Nesta.

“Nesta, when you told the Cauldron you would ‘give it all back,’ you bargained away your life. I couldn’t let that happen so I reached out—reached down maybe, into the power. It’s kind of like a well right, so I dove to the bottom—to the heart, the source.”

“The source?” Amren prompted skeptically. 

“The Mother,” Elain replied.

Amren’s gray eyes went wide. 

“The Mother,” Elain continued, her voice more confident now, “is the only thing who can truly influence the Cauldron. She gave the Cauldron purpose when she created this world, the Cauldron loves her because of it.”

“What does the Mother have to do with Nesta’s bargain? How do you have a connection to her?” Feyre asked.

“Well,” Elain swallowed, trying to ignore terror brought on by the memories of that day in Hybern. She hadn’t realized her eyes had squeezed shut until another faint brush of Lucien’s fingers made her open them.

“When I went into the Cauldron,” Elain stared into the fire, “I was drifting for a long time until the Mother’s hand took hold of me. She said something about being pure of heart and told me the Cauldron would bless me with great gifts. And that she would always walk beside me.

“When I met her again, trying to save Nesta’s life from that bargain, I offered her anything she wanted as long as she made the Cauldron alter your bargain to let you live, to let you all live. She made me vow I would never seek to rid myself of my powers. I don’t know how much you all know about Seers, but it’s usually a cursed gift. They lose their sanity or become slaves and prisoners, often both. The Mother knew I didn’t want that. She knew it would be harder to keep the gifts than trade them for you. And well, here we are.”

The typically loud group of Fae were silent.  

“If you don’t believe me, that bargain is inked in gold on my spine,” Elain shrugged, trying to lighten the mood, her gaze still fixed on the fire. She could have sworn she saw a forest in the flames, a fox running between the trees. Then again, she’d had a lot of wine.

This world was bizarre, magic didn’t follow logic or reason. Compared to some stories she’d heard from this group—this might not even be the strangest. She felt light. Freer than she had felt for many years.

“Elain—” Nesta’s cracking voice drew Elain’s gaze. “You saved me. Twice. You saved Cassian’s life, too.”

“Considering how many times you’ve saved me over the years, Nesta, it was the least I could do to pay you back.”

Elain took a deep breath and addressed the room, breaking contact with Lucien and stepping away from the chair. “I’m sorry for keeping this all to myself. What I’ve told you all tonight is just a fraction. I was terrified—am terrified by all of this. It was too overwhelming, so I shut it all out. I know it was selfish. I’m sorry that I lied to you all, that I abused your kindness to shield myself from having to deal with any of it.”

Elain kept her eyes on the floor, waiting. For what, she wasn’t sure.

Nesta’s arms wrapped around her, squeezing. Feyre’s arms wound around both of them a second later. Warm tears tracked down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry I made you feel you couldn’t talk to me about any of this,” Feyre mumbled into Elain’s shoulder. “I hate that you’ve been dealing with this by yourself.”

“If anyone was selfish, it was me,” Nesta sniffed. “You were right that time at the River House. I was too consumed by my shit to realize you were going through it too, that you needed someone just as much as I did.”

Elain pulled away when it got hard to breathe, wiping the tears from her eyes and grinning at her sisters. Rhys cleared his throat. Elain saw Cassian wipe away a few tears of his own. She didn’t know why but she turned back toward Lucien.

He was smiling at her, his russet eye held a mix of wonder and pride. It was like Elain had spent the last three years under the clouds. Finally explaining part of what had been haunting her had revealed scraps of blue sky, but that one look from Lucien banished the rest. Like that smile was the sweetest ray of sunlight to ever shine. And maybe it would be okay.

tagging: @ablogofbipanic @damedechance @octobers-veryown @panicatthenightcourt @moonpatroclus @vulpes-fennec @krem-does-stuff @areyoudreaminof @spell-cleavers @fieldofdaisiies @foundress0fnothing @kingofsummer93

[the-darkestminds]

Autumn’s Shadow: Chapter 1

Azriel x Eris (Azriel POV)

Summary: A covert meeting between Azriel and Eris to exchange valuable intel leaves Azriel reeling—and questioning everything he has ever felt for the Heir of Autumn. Azriel finds himself inexorably drawn to Eris, unable to resist his captivating allure. With the threat of Koschei and Beron looming ever closer, can their forbidden love endure in the face of such danger?

a/n: This is not canon compliant. It takes place sometime during acosf before Eris is taken by Briallyn. Please assume the following: Cassian never played courtier, Azriel never had any feelings for Elain, he never helped Cassian train the priestesses, and they have not told Eris about the trove.

Read on AO3!

Full Chapter List

Chapter 1:

“Shadowsinger.”

Azriel stepped out of a pocket of shadows at the sound of that infernal voice. A voice he had been longing to make scream in pain for centuries now. Since the night Azriel had found Mor in those woods he had dreamed of how he might slowly and painfully tear the Heir of Autumn apart. Though technically they were allies now. Rhys insisted on these frequent meetings to get information on Beron’s movements in Spring, along with any whisper of his dealings with Briallyn and Koschei. Which was precisely why Azriel found himself in the woods along Night’s southern border in the dead of night. He steeled himself as he took in the male faerie before him.

“Report,” Azriel said coldly to Eris Vanserra.

Eris stood casually near the base of a great oak, a smirk on his pretty face, hands in the pockets of his emerald green jacket. As if out for an innocent stroll in the moonlight. How Eris had known he’d been lurking in the shadows, Azriel didn’t let himself consider. He prided himself on his stealth. It was part of what it meant to be a shadowsinger. But this was not the first time Eris had caught him lurking about and it pissed him off to no end. 

“You’re early,” Eris said, arching a red brow, clearly amused at how easy it was to rile the spymaster. “Did you miss me?” His auburn eyes glinted with feral delight as he took in the anger on Azriel’s face. 

Azriel ignored the comment and stalked forward until they stood only several feet apart, his hand twitching at his side as if he itched to unsheath the blade across his back and stab it through Eris’s elegant, long neck. “I said, report. What are his plans for Spring?” 

Tamlin had long since given up any semblance of protection of his lands. They now stood empty and desolate. Most of the Spring Court citizens had been forced to flee during the war, or were actively pushed out by Hybern’s armies. Azriel had spied a small force of Beron’s Autumn Court soldiers camped past their court’s southern border, on land Tamlin should have been patrolling.

Eris sighed dramatically and crossed his arms, frowning. 

“You’re no fun. Beron is merely testing to see if Tamlin will respond to an encroachment on his land. So far he hasn’t.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if this were all just a minor inconvenience and not a potential act of war.

“And Briallyn?” Azriel asked.

“My father’s unexplained absences have increased in length and frequency. I suspect he is visiting the continent to meet with the queen, though I have no means of following him to confirm. Perhaps you’ll have more luck with those delightful gifts of yours.” Eris glanced at the shadows curling around Azriel’s shoulders with thinly veiled interest.

“Does Beron know what she wants from Koschei?” Azriel asked, and then added, “Is he even aware of Koschei’s existence?” They had decided to inform Eris of the Death God, but not of the trove, or of Briallyn’s use of it thus far. If that information found its way into the wrong hands they might find themselves faced with more enemies who sought to arm themselves with the trove, on top of the threat from Briallyn and Koschei. 

It irked Azriel to be asking Eris about any of this. As spymaster, he should’ve been able to acquire the answers himself instead of standing here with his dick in his hand, begging Eris for intel. He scowled as Eris continued.

“My father speaks little of his plans to anyone these days. I can only assume he’s aware of Koschei if Briallyn’s allied with him, though I have no evidence to prove it. He’d be foolish not to inquire about her own personal motives.” Eris acted unconcerned, but Azriel could tell his father’s silence on the matter troubled him. He likely wasn’t used to being completely shut out of Beron’s schemes. Eris added, “You truly have no inkling of what she’s been after?” He gave Azriel a pointed look, like he was aware Azriel knew more than he was letting on.

Azriel ignored his question and contemplated the information. They did not yet know how closely Briallyn was tied to Koschei. Though he had been to the continent to spy on the once-human queen, Azriel had not yet been able to determine what Briallyn wanted from Koschei, and vice versa. As far as they knew, Briallyn had no means of freeing him from the lake. But perhaps they were missing something. Despite Azriel’s insistence that it could give them the upperhand in defeating Briallyn and prevent any further escalation with Koschei, Rhys had forbade him from getting close to Koschei’s lake, arguing that it was not worth the risk. Azriel had eventually backed off. But if Beron had indeed allied with Koschei…Azriel tucked the information away. He would study it later. 

He’d heard enough, for now. “I’ll let you know when I have something.”

Azriel turned to leave when Eris drawled, “Do give Mor my regards.” He knew Eris said it only to taunt him, but the comment had him turning back around. 

“Keep her name out of your filthy mouth,” he snarled. 

Were they really doing this again? Eris’s moods these past few months had been unpredictable at best. He was a completely different male from one week to the next. Sometimes Eris showed up and said little, his eyes distant and cold, as if consumed by some far away storm. Other times he was almost pleasant, and seemed eager to prove his commitment to their new and tenuous alliance. Today he must’ve been in a foul mood, if his bringing up Mor was any indication, and was likely attempting to take the edge off by stoking Azriel’s temper. Eris excelled at it. 

Azriel was in no mood for the male’s forked tongue today, but Eris continued, “It’s rather pathetic, don’t you think? How long you’ve been panting after her. She will never love you, shadowsinger.” His laugh was cold and mirthless. Azriel said nothing. He knew Eris spoke the truth, and it was something that weighed on him every day of his miserable existence. That he was not and would never be enough. 

“Though I’m sure you know that, deep down,” Eris mused, nodding faintly to himself. Azriel growled softly, temper rising. He should leave. Now. Before he did something that could not be undone. He knew he shouldn’t allow himself to get so worked up. These were old wounds. And yet something about Eris had always made Azriel see red—had his normally cool and calm rage igniting into something hot and savage. 

He’d reluctantly begun to think Eris wasn’t as bad as he let on—had even started to believe they were making decent progress in their civility towards one another. Gods, he’d even caught himself trusting the male. Perhaps he’d been a fool to think Eris was anything but a prick.

“I don’t know why you’re still so angry after all these years.” The words kept spilling out of his hateful mouth. “Surely you can’t really blame me for leaving her in those woods. Although, you are a bastard. Perhaps you’re used to having Cassian’s leftovers—” Azriel’s temper snapped. A blink and he was in front of Eris, scarred hand around his throat as he slammed him against the tree and snarled mere inches from his face.

“Say one more word about her and I will rip out your fucking throat,” Azriel snarled at him, his rage whetted into something sharp and dangerous. They were both breathing hard. Eris hissed as Azriel’s hand tightened around his neck. 

“You make it so easy,” Eris sneered. “It’s almost not even fun anymore. Almost.” His smile was edged with something Azriel couldn’t place. 

Azriel remained silent as he tried to tamp down his rage and get control of the roaring inside his head. He felt the column of Eris’s throat bob as he swallowed, could also feel Eris’s steady heartbeat under his thumb. 

He didn’t realize he’d moved his thumb over that pulse until Eris purred, “Are you going to grope me all night? Would you like me to remove my clothes?” 

Azriel’s eyes snapped to Eris’s and he could feel the blood coloring his high cheekbones. He ground his teeth at the taunt and had to stop himself from snatching his hand back in embarrassment.

Eris blinked. The only sign of his surprise. And then his lips curled into a wicked smile. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” 

“Stop talking,” Azriel growled, tightening his grip further. His face was burning. He had rapidly lost control of this meeting—suddenly he felt like he was failing some test but wasn’t sure what the objectives were, only that he had somehow given Eris the upperhand. He was fumbling—

And then Eris reached down and palmed him roughly through the leather of his pants. Azriel’s eyes widened and every thought eddied out of his head. His face burned hot as he gaped at Eris, who laughed darkly, a heated glint in his amber eyes. Azriel was frozen where he stood, his mind utterly blank. Eris squeezed him and Azriel shuddered, hardening instantly under the intimate touch.

“What,” Azriel bit out through clenched teeth, his hand still wrapped around Eris’s throat, “are you doing?” 

Every muscle in Azriel’s body was taught, as if he might snap at the slightest pressure. But Eris didn’t reply. He just smiled darkly and reached for the buttons of Azriel’s pants—Azriel’s free hand stopped him before it could go further. Stopped his hand, but did not push it away. He only held Eris’s fine wrist in his scarred hand as they stared at each other. The males said nothing, their breaths mingling in the chill night air. Azriel’s grip on Eris’s throat finally loosened, and he let his hand fall to rest against Eris’s collarbone. He glared at the Autumn heir, so unruffled, while his own face was flushed red.

And then suddenly he was dragging Eris towards him by the collar of his shirt. Their lips crashed together ferociously, painfully. Tongues and teeth and shadows and flame danced together as Azriel gave himself over to the distraction of Eris’s hot mouth. He slipped his hand into those silken red strands and pulled Eris’s head back roughly, angling his face so he could better taste him. He grunted as Eris bit him hard enough to draw blood, but only gripped him tighter. Eris laughed cruelly into his mouth and Azriel could taste his own blood on their lips. Eris traced his tongue along Azriel’s bottom lip and then moaned softly as he delved his tongue back into his mouth. 

Azriel groaned in pleasure as Eris slipped a hand down the front of his leathers and gripped his shaft tightly. Gods, what was he doing? This was Eris, Eris, who he hated and who hated him in return—and then Azriel stopped thinking about anything at all as Eris began working him in earnest. His long, elegant fingers gripped him around his base and then worked their way up Azriel’s considerable length, thumb swirling the beaded drop of moisture already formed at the tip. Eris moved his hand up and down deftly, almost painfully, and Azriel felt himself thrust into that hand. He would’ve been embarrassed at his own fervor if he wasn’t so overcome with mindless, writhing need. Azriel stepped closer, their bodies completely flush, as he drove his tongue into Eris’s mouth. He tasted of fall and crackling flames and something sweet, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He could feel Eris’s own need pressing hard against his stomach as he matched his tongue stroke for stroke. 

Eris’s hand twisted over the head of his cock and Azriel’s knees nearly buckled. Azriel groaned into his mouth as Eris grabbed the back of his neck to draw him in closer, like he might swallow every pleasured sound that escaped Azriel’s lips. Eris squeezed the head of his cock again and Azriel felt the pleasure building along his legs and spine. He increased the pace, his hand moving up and down roughly—Azriel felt Eris thrust his own hips forward and feeling that hard length against him sent him toppling over the edge. 

Azriel felt like there was fire in his veins as his release barreled through him. His hips jerked as he emptied himself into Eris’s hand. The male stroked him gently as he slowly stopped trembling. He let his head drop against Eris’s shoulder as he tried to calm his racing heart. Azriel was wrecked. He had no idea what had come over him, only that he’d come hard enough to see stars. 

He felt Eris remove his hand from his leathers, their bodies still pressed together. But the absence of that touch shook Azriel from the haze of his orgasm and he straightened up quickly and stepped back. Eris gazed back at him, his normally pale cheeks flushed. They stood there staring at each other silently. Azriel was at a loss for words, still reeling from what they’d done. And then Eris smiled cruelly, arched a brow, and Azriel braced himself for the blow that was surely to come—the words that would spill out of that wicked mouth and shred the remaining scraps of his pride into nothing. Dread pooled in his stomach. But then Eris paused, cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at Azriel. Azriel held his breath, waited. And then Eris vanished, nothing but the rustling leaves any indication he had been there at all. Azriel stared at the spot long after he left, until the cold finally had him stepping back into the shadows and disappearing into the night.

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Next Chapter

Tag list: @unanswered-stars

[shadowqueenjude]

Hi!! read some of the beaf that you had with some anons and honestly, i can kinda agree and kinda not agree.

(Let me first establish that I don't write lucien but if someone wants to diss him i will throw hands)

Okay, Azriel: Azriel's character and morals on a whole are questionable and not that great and a lot of shit that he's done especially with Elain is not...ugh just not it. Which is honestly why 70% of fanfiction I write is just ignoring canon or using his shitty character to create angst. He's hot, and the main reason I like him is because he's willing to risk his life for people he cares about. Does that excuse him from being biased and favouritism towards his brothers and Feyre? no. That's where delulu comes in and I erase that part of his character from my mind. So Azriel is the kind of character where since he does not exist I choose the parts of him I want to acknowledge and which parts I don't want to. Also, yeah, Elain should not be with him that dynamic is just...no.

Rhysand: I understand anti-rhysand just as much as I understand pro-rhysand. Both don't make sense to me, tbh i kinda ignored his existence his death did not affect me whatsoever and neither did his revival.

Cassian: He's...interesting. See I like the parts of his character where he's a goofy and funny dude but where it starts going downhill is he does his job with no questions asked and the way he treated Nesta is an ick. I'd like to be his bestfriend when it comes to his blatant sense of humour (not including when he pushed Nesta cause that's just plain messed up) but I would not want to be his lover. Not for a billion years.

In conclusion, get rid of Rhysand, teach Azriel and Cassian to have a backbone (or at least more of one), teach them how to have a guilty conscience, and also we need an Eris POV because I need to start justifying why I love Eris so much T^T My fics are honestly always reader leaves Azriel for Eris.

It's the Fae world. Everyone is "hot" so Azriel being "good looking" doesn't mean shit to me. If you mean his personality being hot? He has no personality aside from being delusional and crazy. Cassian I was cool with mostly until ACOSF. UGH I hate that SJM did that to Cassian because she wanted Nesta to wind up part of the Inner Circle. Rhysand? He's a dick in every sense of the word. The only way Cassian and Azriel could redeem themselves to me is if they destroyed Rhysand and his shoddy system, treat the Archerons right, and bow down to the king Lucien. For fuck's sake it's impossible to find a character who hasn't done Lucien dirty. Except maybe Tarquin or whatever. As for daddy Eris, this man could make Azzy PAY for how he treated Lulu. Lucien is too nice to do it himself. But Eris has no such qualms. Lucien and Eris together have too much power, that's why SJM hasn't had them made up yet 🔥🔥🔥 Anyway, the bat boys should just drop dread and Lucien should become High King. Eris can be his right hand man. Elain can be his High Queen and Nesta can be Eris's wife. Tamlin gets on his knees for Lucien who forgives him and adopts him as his pet dog. Feyre can go to therapy sessions with Thesan.

[elainarcheronslawyer]

You absolving Elain and nesta of providing for themselves and taking advantage of their little sister for years, many of which they were adults, is wild. Elain and nesta took advantage of feyre, it’s repeatedly established, and we meet them when they’re adults and this has been happening for years. Their father obviously sucks but even he was shown doing more than Elain in the cabin even though she was able bodied and an adult when we meet her.

It was absolutely their crime. If you can’t fathom why it’s horrible that feyre was beyond exhausted just risked her life and comes home with food only for elain to be like “when will you finish getting it ready” and have it established she’s never offered to help and has never provided any help and this has been ongoing for years while she’s an adult then idk what to tell you. You lack empathy.

You’re lying to yourself if you don’t get how bad their treatment was. It’s their crime because they could’ve done something to show appreciation or provide for themselves like healthy adults should but they knew feyre would do it so they let her. Nesta even justifies taking Feyre’s money with “I knew you could always get more”. Elain and nesta are guilty in different ways and the same and it’s actually revolting that you’re excusing this abuse and neglect just because you like their characters.

Honestly just read the acofas interview where sjm talks about the fact that feyre was forced to be the caregiver of her sisters and father and had never been prioritized or taken care of is literally linked to how she ended up in a domestic abusive relationship with tamlin.

Elain admits they failed her and neglected her and didn’t help while she gave for years. Nesta admits she did nothing and wanted them all to starve and hated feyre for stepping up and failed Feyre repeatedly. Feyre has deep emotional scars over it that we see repeatedly. To deny this mistreatment was theirs and an established pattern for YEARS, most of which nesta and Elain were adults and most of which feyre was still a child, is unempathetic and ignoring what the books clearly show.

oh goodness let’s tackle this a bit at a time.

firstly, no one is diminishing feyre’s hunting. what she did was something no child should have to do.

it’s almost as if there is no one way to respond to a truly horrific situation. nesta was 22 in acotar and elain was 20. now sjm’s timeline is a mess but that would make them no older than 17 and 15 when they fell in too poverty ( feyre would have been about 13). nesta and elain were barely adults. elain was only an adult for 2 or 3 of those years (again this is unclear due to a slightly messy timeline). however regardless of how long they’d been adults it’s still not their responsibility to provide for the family ( it shouldn’t have been feyre’s either). why? because that responsibility rests solely on the shoulders of their father. my second (rhetorical) question is: who do you think was doing the domestic tasks? because it wasn’t nesta, it wasn’t their useless lump of a father (he was to busy carving wood and neglecting his children) and feyre canonically doesn’t know how to (nor would she have time to after spending her days hunting for food). so it must have been elain. feyre is repeatedly shown to have very little interest in domestic tasks so it is plausible that due to her being an unreliable narrator it just hasn’t occurred to her and therefore it doesn’t occur to the reader. if feyre is starving after a day of hunting why can’t elain be equally as hungry after a day of unrecognised domestic labour? (even if this isn’t the case they are three barley adults in a truly awful situation so i think it’s both acceptable and understandable for them to be hangry). i don’t know how much experience you have with not knowing where your next meal will come from and being constantly hungry but i can tell you it fucking sucks and it brings out the absolute worst in people.

i never said it wasn’t a horrible situation only that it wasn’t nesta or elain’s (or feyre’s for that matter) responsibility.

it’s quite clear that all occupant of that cottage were suffering from some kind of trauma and it’s understandable that they react that way but once again it was only ever their father’s responsibility to find food and money not the sisters. i hadn’t read that interview before this and i did find it very informative so thank you (i think) for the recommendation? however, i do think it is besides the point because once again it was not any of the sisters responsibility it was papa archerons. feyre’s abusive relationship is obviously awful and i recognise how much she craved someone to put her first. but nesta and elain are not the ones at fault. their father is. it was only ever his responsibility to care for his children (and to be quite honest it was his fault they were in that situation in the first place)

also, (i’m actually glad you brought it up) both nesta and elain recognise and apologise for the treatment of feyre and show remorse even after feyre completely destroyed their human lives (albeit accidentally and i don’t think she is solely to blame she only wanted a friend).

finally, obviously i’m not the one lacking in empathy if you’re failing to recognise the trauma carried by all three sisters. nesta was angry and bitter at their father for his failings and neglect, we haven’t had elain’s perspective yet but i’m of the belief that her desperation to bake and cook comes from years of worrying where her next meal is coming from and how whatever feyre brings back is going to feed four people. you seem very familiar with feyre’s trauma so i won’t reiterate it. the only person to blame for the neglect of all three sisters is their father. he had a duty of care and he abused them. (negligence is a form of abuse btw) he was responsible for all of his daughters. he should have done something to help. it shouldn’t have been feyre hunting because it shouldn’t have been any of them. their father neglected them all. elain had to take on the role of his care giver (neither of the others would’ve done it and they shouldn’t have had to). so yes ‘letting’ feyre hunt wasn’t nesta or elain’s crime. it was their father’s and because he’s dead it is highly unlikely he will face the consequences of this and/or apologise to his daughter’s for neglecting them. ( a half arsed confession before he died doesn’t count and pulling his act together just in time for the grand finale in acowar won’t absolve him of his crimes either)