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autumnshighlady · 2 months

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I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 20)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: reader meet's Eris's mother, and Azriel offers a helping hand. An unexpected visitor comes to autumn, I cannot do summaries to save my life

warnings: graphic violence/torture, Cassian slander, tw B*ron sucking but also kinda slaying, implied SA, themes of depression, angst because apparently i can't write happy things

word count: 7.4k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: two chapters in one day to spoil y'all as thanks for waiting so long for part 19 lmao. sorry if this chapter seems slow, but the next two chapters are doozies so gear up!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19

read on ao3

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You barely heard the hushed voices of the servants as they fiddled with the wedding dress. Pins poked at your skin as adjustments to the garment were made, but you didn’t care. You simply stood there silently, staring at the husk of a female who looked like you in the mirror. Nobody had asked you anything – not for your opinion on the dress, how it felt, nothing. Not that you expected them to. They were all aiming to please Beron Vanserra, not you.

For the past week, you hadn’t heard from or seen Nesta. Or Eris. Ever since Malgorm paid you an unexpected visit that night, Eris had warned you that it would be too dangerous to meet up for the next while. That Malgorm was likely to be excited about his new bride, and the risk of him showing up unexpectedly was too great. You hadn’t even dared to use the bond to communicate with Nesta, for fear the magic would somehow be detected by Beron’s many complex wards.

Once again, you were completely alone.

It was hard not to fall back into that panic you felt when you had woken up in Rhysand’s dungeons. That same feeling of helplessness washed over you again and again, and you had no idea what to do. Nesta, Eris, and Azriel had all promised you that this marriage wouldn’t happen, but refused to let you in on any of their planning.

“It’s too risky,” Azriel had pointed out to you when you protested. “You cannot know anything about what we are planning. If Beron or Malgorm finds out, we cannot risk you being implicated.”

Naturally, you had bitched and complained about how they didn’t have a right to risk themselves for your safety, but it landed on deaf ears. One hard look from your mate was enough to make you shut up about the matter.

They had promised to do something, yet the wedding grew closer every day. Beron had originally planned for Eris and Nesta to be married first, but whispers from the servants informed you that Malgorm had insisted that his wedding be moved up as fast as possible so he could breed you sooner. The thought made you want to vomit. Shockingly, Beron had agreed, his apparent reasoning being it gave them more time to plan the grand wedding of his eldest son.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The dress was pretty – a thick satin gown made with the purest of white fabric, with long sleeves and a high neck. Gold thread was embroidered around the neckline, going down the bust and arms like tendrils of flame. It was a suitable wedding dress – definitely not as elaborate as Nesta’s would be, but befitting of a marriage within a royal family.

You had been completely overwhelmed the past week with the amount of servants flocking you to prepare for the wedding. They fiddled with your hair and makeup, poking and prodding you like you were a doll for dress up.

You shuddered to think of how much more chaotic it would be for Nesta and her wedding with Eris, the eldest. After all, Malgorm was only Beron’s second youngest.

When you weren’t being prepared for the wedding, you spent your time alone in your room, laying on the bed and watching the raindrops trickle down the window. You dared not wander the halls to entertain yourself, the fear of running into Malgorm too great. Realistically, he knew where your room was so if he truly wanted to find you, nothing could stop him. But you did not want to take the unnecessary risk.

Every time you slept for the past week, your dreams were plagued by nightmares of Malgorm. You’d wake up in tears most of the time, yearning for Nesta’s comforting presence or Eris’s smooth words to soothe you. You could still feel his hand around your throat, the remnants of the bruises still visible.

Conveniently enough, the neckline of the dress was just high enough to cover those marks on your neck.

A quiet knock at the door snapped you out of your trance. The servants scurried into whatever formation was required of them seconds before the wooden door opened. You tore your gaze away from the mirror to see a petite female with long auburn hair entering your room. Her skin was pale as snow, covered in heavy green robes. A sheer gold veil covered her head, as if meant to hide her from the world. Her russet eyes landed on you and she let out a small smile.

“My lady.” One of the servants said in greeting, bowing her head. The female’s face was unreadable, a mask of boredom so similar to the one you saw Eris wear.

“Leave us, please.” Her voice was weak, as if she was not accustomed to using it. “I would like to spend some time with my daughter.”

Your heart ached at the Lady of Autumn’s words, even though you knew they weren’t entirely genuine. You missed your own mother so terribly, that hearing someone else refer to you as their daughter was bittersweet.

The servants obediently trailed out of the room, closing the door behind them. You bowed your head respectfully, and when you met her eyes again you nearly crumpled. Gone was the Lady’s mask of boredom. It was replaced by one of sadness and pity, as if she were looking at a younger version of herself in the mirror. Lucien had told you about the horror his mother had endured under her husband’s cruelty, his stories making you shudder. How ironic it was now, that you were to be subjected to the same fate it seemed.

“Greetings, (Y/N),” She said. “I am the High Lord’s wife, Lirilla Vanserra. It is a pleasure to meet my son’s bride.”

A single tear fell down your cheek. The heavy fabric of the dress was stifling, and your lungs felt like they weren’t getting enough air. But you were too tired to properly cry. You had weeped for the first few nights, and it seemed your body was drained. All you could do was stand there numbly, letting that singular tear make its way down your blotchy skin.

“It is an honour to meet you, my Lady.” Your words did not feel like your own as you spoke them. “And a blessing to be engaged to your son.”

The look that Eris’s mother gave you was one that could only be described as utterly heartbreaking as she said, “Oh my sweet, I think we both know that is not true.”

You were taken aback by her bold words. Every time you had seen the Lady of Autumn this past week it had been like catching a glimpse of a ghost. She had never spoken, keeping her head down and scurrying around like a frightened mouse. While she still seemed frail, her bluntness surprised you. Perhaps Beron wasn’t the one who taught Eris to put on a mask.

“It’s alright, we may speak freely here.” Lirilla said, as if she could read your expression. “The guards at the door are loyal to me, and the ears of this castle do not reach this corridor. May we sit down?”

You nodded, following your future mother-in-law to the edge of the bed. She sat down elegantly, smoothing her skirts with the poise of a female ready for her appearance at court. You, on the other hand, were less graceful, pins stabbing you as you tried to collect the white skirt.

“That is a lovely dress,” Lirilla said. “Is it to your liking?”

“Yes.” You said. “I’m just not used to this much skirt and heaviness. I pray I do not trip on my way down the aisle.”

The Lady’s expression darkened, melancholic sadness shadowing her face. “I am sorry,” Her voice was quiet and hushed. “That you are to be wed to the cruellest of my sons. I do not know how you ended up in this situation, but it is clear that this marriage is against your will.”

You frowned. “The High Lord did not tell you my circumstances?”

Lirilla smiled sadly. “My husband does not tell me most things. And I suspect yours won’t either. Malgorm was, is, the most difficult of my children. I did my best to raise him to be a good male, but like almost all my other sons, he fell into the clutches of my husband too easily.”

“All except Lucien?” You asked tentatively, unsure if you were overstepping. A grave expression crossed her face for a moment, the pain of her youngest son’s banishment from her court evident.

“He told me about you, you know.” Lirilla’s russet eyes were glazed with the memories of the past. “That's why I came to see you. I had to make sure it was the same female that Lucien had befriended all those years ago. How is your family doing, my dear? Is your mom still baking for the local schools?”

Your heart sank, both at the memory of your family and the fact that Lirilla was so cut off from the events of the outside world. “They’re all dead,” You said solemnly. “Hybern attacked my village, and I was the only survivor.”

Her eyes widened with shock. You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to tell her everything as you remembered Azriel’s words. Begrudgingly, you knew he was right – as much as you wanted to break down and tell the Lady of Autumn everything, it was too risky. The less people who knew the better, and while the female had survived Beron’s cruelty for this long, you couldn’t bring yourself to be selfish enough to burden her with the knowledge of everything else that got you into this situation.

“I am terribly sorry,” Lirilla put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I wish I could say that things will get easier, but they won’t. Not with Malgorm. I do not wish to scare you, but I will not sit by and let you go into this marriage blind. Malgorm does not treat females kindly, including me. He will humiliate you, and cause you pain in more ways than one. I will do what I can to shield you from it, but I cannot stop this and for that I am sorry.”

You shook your head, fiddling with a pin in the white skirts. “No, I cannot ask that of you, my Lady. This suffering I am about to endure is mine to bear, and mine only. Please, do not put yourself in harm's way to try and protect me.”

Another devastatingly sad smile pulled at Lirilla’s lips. She gently reached up and stroked your cheek. “Oh, my love. I am in harm’s way every day in this castle. That will not change. You are to be my daughter, my first daughter. I may not be able to stand up for you, or even spend much time with you outside of stolen moments like this, but that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you however I can.”

Your voice cracked as you spoke. “I don’t want to marry him.”

“I know. But outside of this room, you must face it with a stiff lip. Any sign of reluctance will be punishable. Give Malgorm what he wants. He always gets what he wants in the end, and trying to resist does more harm than good. It is unpleasant, but that is the safest way to handle him.”

You shuddered at her words. You knew that she meant more than just fetching the male his afternoon tea, and your stomach churned. The breath you took trembled from effort to not cry. How had everything come to this?

“Oh honey…” Lirilla gently pulled you into her, wrapping her tiny arms around your trembling body as you let out a muffled sob. “Growing up, I always wanted a daughter. Yet now I have grown to fear the day I get blessed with a daughter-in-law, because I cannot bear to see this vicious cycle repeat over and over again for centuries.”

You cried into your mother-in-law’s arms, letting her warm embrace chase away the chill in your bones. You knew that once you were married, Malgorm would likely not leave you alone unsupervised, especially with his mother. This might just be your only chance to receive some sort of wisdom and comfort from the Lady of Autumn, so you held onto her tightly and let her stroke your hair.

“It’s ok, my child.” She soothed. “Be strong. If you are hurt, have one of the servants seek out the healer Doreah. She will be able to take the pain away and heal internal damage while ensuring the external wounds can still be seen by Malgorm. Should you need access to a safe place, take the first stairwell on the left all the way down into the basement. There is a library there with food, fresh clothes, and anything you need. The guards around it are loyal to me and will cover for you if your whereabouts are questioned. Nobody except for me and my most trusted staff knows about that place. I have had it glamoured by an old friend so that if anyone sees you going down the stairwell, it looks like you’re headed to the female-only bathing area. Not even my husband or Melgorm would follow you there.”

You felt Lirilla gently ease you out of her grip, sitting you upright. She pulled out a handkerchief and gently dried your face, muttering a spell and erasing all evidence of your crying. “I can hear Malgorm coming to visit you,” She whispered urgently. “Remember everything I’ve told you.”

The Lady of Autumn pulled away from you just in time as the door swung open, the uninvited visitor not even bothering to knock. Lirilla’s kind, pitying look had swiftly been replaced by her submissive, passive mask. She stood up hastily at her son’s arrival, bowing her head. “Malgorm,” She muttered, keeping her eyes on the floor. “It is bad luck to see your bride in her wedding dress before the–”

“Quiet.” Malgorm snapped at his mother, and she flinched as if she had been struck. You wondered how much of it was an act, and how much of it was genuine fear of her son. Malgorm’s amber gaze fixed on you greedily. “I don’t give a shit about such stupid tradition. I should be able to see my wife whenever I please. Now get out, father wants to see you.”

Lirilla nodded, gathering her skirts and hurrying past him like a ghost. Her feet made no sound on the floor as she left the room without a hint of a glance back. You were nervous, left alone with the cruel Vanserra brother. But you stood up and bowed your head, trying to mimic Lirilla’s submissive demeanour.

Malgorm made a disapproving sound as he eyed up your dress with disgust. “My father wants you to look pure and traditional,” He scoffed. “To have as much of your body covered up as possible. If it were up to me, you’d be walking down that aisle with your tits and cunt on display for everyone to see.”

Your face burned at his words, and you swallowed the bile in your throat and spoke as sweetly as possible, “I shall do whatever pleases you, my lord.”

Malgorm snickered, his dirty hand coming up to roughly yank a lock of hair out of your face. “That you shall. Luckily for you, this wedding is about pleasing my father. So you will be nice and covered up until the event is over.” He chuckled darkly, his hot breath fanning across your face as he leaned in too closely. “But the second it is over, you belong to me. And I will rip this pretty dress to shreds and stuff that tight cunt of yours every hour until you are bred. Understood?”

You nodded, even as the room swayed around you. “It will be a great honour to bear your child, my lord.” The words felt wrong on your lips, like oil had been poured in your mouth and choked you as it slid down your throat. You were saying what you had to say to keep him happy, you reminded yourself. Nesta and Eris would stop the wedding before it got to that point. Eris had reassured you that even Malgorm would respect the High Lord’s wishes to wait until you were wed to him to bed you, but you couldn’t help but wonder if Malgorm was unhinged enough to do it anyways.

“I expect you to give me sons.” He said coldly. “If you dare curse me with a daughter, I will tear her from the cord and feed her to my brother’s hounds before you can even see her face.”

You swallowed thickly, fear making the hair on your arms raise at the image. You wondered if Eris had built a reputation that was so cruel his brother was sure he would have no qualms about letting his hounds murder a newborn child. The thought made you shudder. You knew Eris had to play a role to survive his father’s court, but you did not know how far he would go. And while you trusted him, that did not erase the inkling of fear.

“I shall pray day and night that the Mother blesses me with sons.” You managed to get the words out without stuttering, which you were happy with. Luckily, Malgorm seemed satisfied enough with you answer.

“Excellent.” He said smoothly, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a sharp knife. Your blood ran cold. “Now, let’s play.”

*********************

You couldn’t be bothered to try and wipe the blood off your stomach. You had no energy, no strength to even curl your naked, bloody body up into a ball against the cold chill of the room. Your wedding dress was neatly hung up in the corner, Malgorm having been smart enough to get it out of the way before he went to work.

Your body stung with every cut from his blade. Most were shallow cuts that would heal in a day or so, but by the Mother there were so many of them. Your skin felt shredded, like a ruined canvas suffering the wrath of an angry artist. Malgorm had delighted in slicing his blade across your skin, avoiding your hands and face – the only parts of your body that would be visible in the wedding. You could still feel his wet mouth and tongue sliding over the wounds like a venomous snake, the sensation making you want to rip your ruined skin from your body.

Luckily, the male had obeyed his fathers command and not tried to fuck you. He kept his hands away from your centre, seemingly content to ruin other acceptable parts of your body instead. No doubt he wanted everything down there perfect and intact for the wedding night.

A soft shadow grazed your fingertip. It curled up your arm like a ribbon, coming to your face. It seemed to whisper words you couldn’t understand, especially in your lifeless state. “Az…” You murmured, his familiar scent on the small shadow that seemed to inspect your body.

A few moments later, you felt a presence standing over you. “By the Mother…” Came Azriel’s shocked voice. “What did he do to you...”

The shadowsinger emerged from the darkness, leaning down to inspect the dozens of wounds littered across your skin. His hazel eyes were filled with horror as a scarred hand grazed a cut on your collarbone. You watched helplessly as his eyes trailed down to the significant pool of blood beside you that trickled from a deep wound in your stomach.

Right where the letter ‘M’ was carved below your belly button, a few inches above your core.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care about your nakedness in front of the shadowsinger. Malgorm had already begun to strip you of your dignity anyways. But Azriel quickly grabbed the blanket from the end of your bed, gently wrapping it around your body and hoisting you upright. You winced in pain. “We have to stop meeting like this, shadowsinger.” You croaked. “With me being tortured and all.”

Azriel snorted. “Stop getting yourself into these situations then.”

“Couldn’t help it.” Your reply was weak, but earned a slight twitch of the spymaster’s lips, a hint of a smile. “How’d you find me?”

Shadows skirted over your skin, their gentle coolness soothing the sting of the wounds and making you sigh in relief. “I was meeting with Nesta and Eris,” He answered. “She could feel something was wrong… through the bond. Eris sent me to see what happened.”

You frowned. The shadowsinger never stumbled over his words in the entire time you had known him. He already knew Nesta was your mate, so his stutter made you ask, “Why’d you say it like that?”

“What do you mean?” Azriel’s expression gave nothing away, but you could tell something was bothering him.

“What, you don’t like that two females are mates? Is that it?”

The Illyrian departed to your washroom, fetching a damp cloth as he responded. “No, no, Mother above, no. I take no issue with that and you know it.”

“Then what is it?”

Azriel sighed, a lock of dark hair falling across his forehead as he returned and knelt down beside you. He carefully pulled back the blanket, revealing the bloody ‘M’ on your stomach. He pressed the wet cloth to the wound, gently cleaning it. “Something happened,” His tone was cautious, as if he wasn’t sure how much to say. “Between Nesta and Eris. It’s changed things slightly. They’re still trying to figure out how to end the engagement between you and Melgorm but… it’s difficult.”

“How so?” You frowned, trying to sit up straighter only to get gently pushed back down by Azriel. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “Gods, I really do not wish to be involved in this little love triangle.”

“Well too bad,” You snapped, ignoring the sting of your wounds and fixing him a glare. “Because you already are. So tell me.”

“I can’t decide if you’d be the worst interrogator in Prythian or the best.” Azriel grumbled, moving the cloth to begin wiping down the wounds on your left arm.

“Stop dodging the question.”

“It’s really something they should be the ones to tell you–”

“For fuck’s sake, if I have to march out of this room bloody and naked to find Nesta and Eris so help me I will actually do it.”

Azriel glared at you, snarling. “You’re fucking insufferable, you know that?”

You shrugged, tilting your head and waiting for him to tell you exactly what happened. The shadowsinger let out a sigh, and began cleaning your other arm as he spoke. “Remember how you said that Estelle mentioned Nesta had more than one mate, but Cassian was not one of them?”

You nodded.

“I guess that really is true, because a mating bond snapped for her the other day apparently. Between Nesta and Eris.”

Your jaw went slack. You couldn’t describe the emotions that rushed through you at Azriel’s words. It wasn’t the surge of mately jealousy you expected, nor was it anger per se. Sure, Nesta and Eris were a strong political match, but mates? The thought had never even crossed your mind. But it made sense, in some wicked way. Nesta and Eris had similar magic, and could both hold their own in a court of vipers. Perhaps they truly would make strong offspring, which you supposed was the main reason mates were created. Or so you had been told.

Azriel’s brow was furrowed at your silence. “You don’t seem surprised.”

You shrugged, trying to calm your racing mind. “Not entirely. Better it be Eris than someone potentially worse. It will work well in their favour, I suppose.”

The spymaster’s normally unreadable face was riddled with confusion. If you were not in pain, you’d have laughed at his expression. He shook his head, continuing to dab at the wounds on your chest as he spoke. “I do not understand,” Azriel continued. “When the bond snapped between Rhys and Feyre, Cassian and I could barely look at Feyre without him snarling at us. I may not have a mate, but I know mates are supposed to be utterly possessive of one another. Why are you not enraged that your mate has another bond?”

You sighed. Azriel would never truly understand – it was obvious that a mating bond was something he desired greatly. For Nesta to have not only one, but two mating bonds surely brought him discomfort. And truthfully, while you were certainly experiencing a whirlwind of emotions at the new information, none of them were associated with anger or jealousy.

Love comes in many forms and unexpected ways, your mother had once told you. Those words had stuck by you all these years, and growing up in Spring had exposed you to all different kinds of relationships. Males had courted males, females had courted females, and you had often heard stories of an individual having multiple courtings, all of which was done with nothing but love, devoid of possessiveness or jealousy.

“Nesta is someone who has not experienced nearly as much love as she should,” You began, meeting Azriel’s hazel gaze. “She is my mate, and nothing will ever change that. There is nothing she can do that will make me love her any less. But I don’t believe the amount of love an individual can receive should be restricted to one person. If Eris is her mate and can grow to love her, what kind of mate would I be to want it denied from her? Nesta deserves all the love that the world can offer her, and if that comes from both me and Eris then I do not see how that could be a bad thing.”

The Illyrian was quiet for a moment, his shadows swirling around his neck as if they, too, were deep in thought. “You make it sound so simple.” He said after a minute.

“Because it is. Nesta and Eris had a connection before the bond snapped into place. They are good for each other, and you know it. You just need to get past your one sided hatred for the male and see it.”

Anger sparked in Azriel’s face. “And what about Cassian?”

“What about him?”

“He loves Nesta. You claim that the Mother… Estelle… told you that Cassian was not one of Nesta’s mates. But there is something between them, both he and Nesta know it. He loves her.”

You curled your fingers into fists, nails biting the sweaty flesh of your palm. “Cassian is no concern of mine.” You snarled at the shadowsinger. “He is for Nesta to deal with. And he is not in love with her, he loves the idea of being with her. You aren’t a fool, Azriel. Every interaction they have turns into a battle, with Cassian making it his mission to push her buttons and disrespect her boundaries. Can you truly look me in the eye and tell me that they are a better match than Nesta and I? Or Nesta and Eris?”

He opened his mouth as if to instinctively defend his brother, but nothing came out. “Thought so.” You continued. “If Feyre and Rhys were not mates, you all would not be pushing for Nesta to be with Cassian as hard as you have. You act like she has to become worthy of his love, as if he is some perfect male. He’s 500 years old, quit making excuses for him and his shitty behaviour.”

Azriel put the blood soaked cloth down, gently pulling the blanket back over your shivering form to cover your body once again. You pitied the male slightly, guilt creeping in for the position he had gotten himself into. You knew Azriel had been loyal to Rhysand for five centuries, and it was clear that this was the first time he felt truly torn.

“If Cassian and Nesta are not mates, then why did Rhys make such a statement?” Azriel asked, turning his body so he sat beside you. A giant wing gently grazed your blanket covered shoulder, as if to provide some sort of comfort. “Does he truly believe they are mates, or was it a lie? I cannot think of why he would lie about something that big.”

“I can.” You snorted, earning an eye roll from Azriel.

“I will not deny my brother’s horrid actions,” He protested, voice edged with anger. “But he loves Cassian, and lying to him about the mating bond–”

“Would be a way to try and lure Nesta back to the Night Court.” You interrupted the shadowsinger. “A means to control her, and convince her to stay.”

Azriel shook his head, scarred hands fiddling with the hilt of his dagger. “You don’t understand. You know Nesta, but I know Cassian. He’s been acting like a male whose mate has been taken from him. His behaviour is erratic and unreasonable, more so than he has ever been. I cannot think of an explanation for that aside from a mating bond, (Y/N). Besides, he can feel her somehow. There’s something tying them together.”

“I believe the Mother more than your High Lord. If she says that Cassian is not Nesta’s mate, then I believe her.” Truthfully, Azriel’s confession about Cassian’s mood lately unsettled you, having lined up with Emerie and Gwyn’s note about the general being unhinged. You had to admit, they sounded like the actions of a distressed mated male. Azriel was right, something was tying them together. You just didn’t know what.

“Regardless, that bears little relevance to the situation currently.” The spymaster said, echoing your thoughts as he steered away from the uncomfortable topic. “You are set to be married to Malgorm by the end of next week. Nesta and Eris are to be wed soon after. Eris is coming up with a plan to stop your wedding, and I suspect killing his father as well. There is no chance that he will be able to defy Beron and end your engagement and get away with it. Beron has to be eliminated, it is the only way to ensure your safety.”

You felt ill. Killing Beron was something you hadn’t thought of as much in light of the problems of the foreseeable future. It only doubled the risk of everything, trying to execute two life-altering plans within such a short window. You didn’t even know if he and Nesta were ready to take on a High Lord. Sure, they were incredibly powerful fae, but Beron had centuries of experience on them. He was cruel, but not stupid.

Eris was risking his entire plan to become High Lord to ensure you weren’t made to marry his cruel younger brother.

Shadows wisped around your face, as if they could hear your thoughts. Beside you, Azriel remained stoic, but spoke softly. “Eris cares about you, too.”

“Sometimes I think I understand him, and other times I feel like I could not be more wrong.” You sighed, tightening your grip on the stained blanket. “He’s a male whose actions are driven by his own secret agenda. I understand how helping Nesta fits into it, but me? Helping me is a courtesy, a generous one even for him. I… I don’t understand why he’s risking so much for me, unless it’s all because Nesta is his mate too.”

“There might be more to Eris Vanserra than I could have ever imagined. Whether that is for better or for worse, I do not know. I will not lie, it makes me uneasy that your fate will be in his hands. But for some reason you have trusted him this far. Time will tell if that trust has been misplaced.”

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t. Perhaps it was because you shared a mate with him, a commonality that would keep you united no matter what. Or perhaps it was that foolish part of your brain that fancied the eldest Vanserra brother from a distance, who had teasingly called you his little fox on the rare occasion he ran into you with Lucien.

You shivered as another chilly gust of wind seeped into the room through the cracked window. It soothed your still stinging wounds beneath the blanket, but you wrapped the fabric even tighter around you. “Whatever Eris is planning, I hope it works.” You mumbled.

“Me too.” Azriel said dryly. “For all our sake.”

*********************

You tried to keep your breathing steady as you stood on the second step of the dias below Beron’s throne. Grand torches lined the red and gold carpet leading up to the throne, illuminating the tapestries lining each wooden wall.

It had been mid morning when the servants flooded your room, scrambling to get you ready for an appearance in court. When you frantically asked what the fuss was about, you were surprised when you received an answer.

“His Grace has received an unexpected visitor,” The oldest of the servants said in a hushed tone. “You and your betrothed are expected with the rest of the family to greet them.”

It had taken less than five minutes for your hair to be done and your dress to be fitted properly before a set of guards had escorted you to the throne room. Upon entering, you had snuck a glance at the other figures on the dias. Lirilla stood left beside the seated High Lord, her head bowed and hands clasped in front of her. Eris and Nesta were on Beron’s right, one step below. Both adorned royal outfits in similar shades of red, each wearing an almost identical mask of boredom. Nesta’s arm was linked through Eris’s as a formality, but you noticed how tense she was. Her breathing was shallow, as if being in such close proximity to Eris was too much. Luckily, it appeared to be something only you noticed. To everyone else, they appeared the stone-cold politically arranged couple they were meant to be.

You had tried to reach out to Nesta through the bond, but were met with a wall of stone. You tried not to let it sting as she shut you out, choosing to focus on keeping your expression neutral as you held onto Malgorm’s arm the same way Nesta was with Eris’s. It felt wrong, and every part of you wanted to recoil at his touch. Your skin still felt flayed from the events of last night, but as predicted the dress that Malgorm undoubtedly chose for you this morning covered up all evidence of his actions.

So you fought through the pain, ignoring the sneering looks of Beron’s other sons whose names you did not know. You were almost grateful when harsh words from the High Lord threatening punishment to his offspring put them in line.

The tension in the room was thick. You hadn’t dared try and look back towards Nesta and Eris, not with Beron breathing down your necks. It was only a few minutes after the Vanserra family had gotten in formation when the heavy doors to the throne room opened, and the High Lord of the Night Court strode in.

Your mouth went dry. Your mind flashed with images of that forsaken dungeon, the dark tendrils of the High Lord’s power carving through your skin like butter. Was he here to snatch you away? Piercing violet eyes landed on you as Rhysand approached the foot of the dias, swarming with a mixture of fury and confusion. Nevertheless, he bowed his head to Beron. “High Lord,” Rhys said smoothly. “You are looking well.”

You weren’t fooled by the feigned respect. Luckily, Beron wasn’t either, and you heard the male scoff. “Do not bother yourself with false pleasantries, we both know you don’t actually mean them.” Beron said coldly, his aged voice echoing through the throne room like the power of an ancient god. “Give me one reason why I should not execute you for entering my territory without permission.”

Rhys straightened his shoulders, cocking his head and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he met Beron’s words with a cool tone. “Last I checked, meetings of diplomacy were still favourable between two High Lords, were they not?”

“And yet you have no excuse for the uninvited part.”

“I fear my concerns were too urgent and important to notify you in advance.” Rhys’s voice was saccharine, a veil to disguise his true intentions. On a younger, more inexperienced High Lord, it may have worked. But once again, you found yourself strangely grateful for Beron Vanserra. The older male saw right through his words, and would not be afraid to challenge him.

“And what is so important you had to barge in on my court uninvited?” Beron growled, the flames from the torches along the carpet flaring slightly.

Rhysand’s face was smug, and he looked at you directly as he spoke. “You have in your midst a valuable asset of mine. I want her back.”

A cold pit formed in your stomach as you met his stare evenly, despite your bones trembling beneath his gaze. You were right – Rhys had come to spin some lie about you that was designed to make Beron hand you over to the Night Court. You were a fly trapped in a web, and your hand clenching nervously around Malgorm’s arm was not entirely for show.

“Do explain.” Was all the High Lord of Autumn said in a bored tone.

“The female standing at the bottom of the dias belongs to me. Your eldest son infiltrated my court and kidnapped her on the full moon. He is holding her here against her will in a pathetic attempt to hold leverage over me. I ask that you punish Eris Vanserra for his insubordination and return Lady (Y/N) to me, so I can bring her home where she belongs.”

Your blood ran cold. Rhys wasn’t just trying to get you back, but Nesta as well. He wanted to take down Eris in the process, which would force Beron to not only send you back to the Night Court, but Nesta too since the engagement would be broken off and she would have nothing tying her to Autumn. Panic began to stir inside you. This couldn’t be happening. You braced yourself for Beron’s wrath, demanding Eris be brought to the dungeons for immediate questioning.

But instead, the cruel male just laughed. A bitter, hoarse sound like a broken instrument. “That was a pathetic excuse of a story, even for you, Rhysand.” Beron said, making the Night Court Lord blink in surprise. “Not even well crafted. How dare you come into my court and attempt to manipulate me?”

You heard Beron rise in his throne, and the torches began to flare angrily as the High Lord’s temper rose. “I am no fool. I know that you are only here because you’re desperate from losing your spy that had valuable intel on you. A spy who fled your clutches seeking sanctuary with me because of what you did to her.”

“I did nothing.” Rhys said, which angered Beron even more.

“You lie again! I am well aware that the girl was trained as a spy against her will to repay her debt to you. You were an immature fool to trust a prisoner to spy for you, which is one of the many reasons your court is run so poorly. I saw the wounds you inflicted on her, boy, when she found out you planned to take the title of High King.”

Rhys’s expression revealed shock for a split second, the loss of composure making you laugh internally. You hadn’t expected Beron to defend you so vehemently, especially against another male. But you still clung to every breath nervously as he continued to speak.

“Have you not considered that this information she so eagerly gave you might be a ploy to get you to wage war on my court?” Rhysand said carefully.

“So you admit then that your story was false?” Beron had impressively backed Rhys into a corner, catching him in his lie. “That she was indeed your spy turned rogue?”

Rhys had the nerve to shrug. “All that matters is that she is a member of my court, and I demand you release her to me.” He kept his tone neutral, but you could feel the desperation coming off of him in waves.

“My daughter is no longer a member of your court.”

Rhysand’s face blanched visibly at Beron’s words. He went utterly still, even the pulsing aura of power that always seemed to be around him quieting. His violet eyes found you again, but you kept your chin high. He glanced down at your arm entwined with Malgorm’s, who was no doubt smirking proudly at Rhys. It was strange, hearing Beron refer to you as his daughter.

“What?” The High Lord of the Night Court said quietly.

“As a reward for her bravery in fleeing your grasp, and for the useful information she so willingly provided us with, I have given her the honour of marrying my son Malgorm. She is my daughter now, and you will not take her from me.”

You felt an invisible hot flame on your arm, undoubtedly the power of the High Lord. It beckoned you, pulling you towards the throne where he had seated himself once again. Malgorm had seemingly felt it too, for he guided you up the steps to where Beron sat. You looked into the eyes of the High Lord for the first time. His hair was slicked back identical to Malgorm’s, but faded to an ashy grey in contrast to his son’s fiery red. His sharp face took you in, amber eyes glowing like a snake in the dark. He extended a hand towards you, fingers clad in rings more expensive than everything your village in Spring had owned put together. You smiled as you took it, ensuring you looked grateful. To further paint the image of Beron’s new daughter, you lowered your head and gently kissed his aged hand as a sign of respect for your father-in-law.

Beron looked at you proudly, pulling you closer so you were standing right next to him. His hand was clammy and his grip was ironclad, but you showed no signs of resistance. Malgorm took up his post slightly behind you, an arm on the small of your back in a display of ownership.

Rhysand’s mask had slipped entirely as you stared defiantly down at him, disgust and shock written all over his features. He had not even given Nesta and Eris a second glance, his fury towards you overriding his diplomatic practices. But you did not feel frightened, not with Nesta, Eris, and especially Beron in the same room.

Nothing would happen to you. Beron would protect you for his own selfish reasons, but it was reassuring nonetheless.

“My eldest son did not kidnap the girl.” Beron said coldly, his grip on your hand never faltering. “The day you claim it happened, Eris was assigned to meetings with my courtiers from sunup to sundown, all of whom can act as witness.”

You pushed down your confusion – Eris was most definitely not in meetings that day, and how he had managed to pull this alibi off was something you would have to ask him about later.

Beron continued, authority strong in his voice. “She came to me willingly, and I have welcomed her with open arms. I know who she is – a girl from the Spring Court whom you rescued then used as a pawn in one of your little games, only for her to outsmart you in the end. Never again will my daughter fall into suffering under your hands, Rhysand. If you try to do anything to harm her or remove her from my territory, I will burn your entire court to the ground. Just as I will do if you ever think of claiming the title of High King of Prythian.”

Beron spat the title out, his power filling the room. “You are an immature boy playing games you don’t understand,” He continued dangerously. “And any attempt at seizing lordship over this land will be met with the slaughter of everything you hold dear. I will erase your name from the history books, and there will be nobody left to remember Amarantha’s Whore. And if you think any of the other High Lords would bow down to you, your arrogance is even more stupid than I thought. Now get out of my court, half-breed. And do not return.”

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autumnshighlady · 2 months

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 24)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Eris is now High Lord, but the three of you have a serious talk

warnings: Feysand slander, tooth-rotting fluff and adorableness to make up for the emotional last few chapters

word count: 5.5k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: to those of you who thought the last chapter was the end, do not fear! There's still 5-10 more chapters to go. But the poor reader finally gets a break. This is a chill chapter with lots of fluff as a little treat, enjoy

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23

read on ao3

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It had been three days since Eris killed Beron in the dungeons. After it was done, the new High Lord ordered Azriel to take you to your room, where you would be guarded and seen by servants for your injuries. You had protested, wanting to join your mates in dealing with the aftermath of the days’ events, but were quickly shot down.

“Absolutely not.” Eris had said sternly. “You have been beaten senseless and need time to heal. There are going to be lots of angry individuals and people attempting to challenge me, and I will not have you anywhere near that. We will find you when things settle down, I promise.”

Additionally, he had mentioned that he would be blaming his father and brother’s death on Hybern assassins – they had snuck into the castle in an attempt to wipe out the Vanserra bloodline while they slept. The story was that Beron had been slain during his late night walk around the dungeons, the assassins had attempted to kill you as well, but Malgorm died defending you. Hence an explanation for your injuries and a way to keep you sheltered from the chaos of Eris’s transition to High Lord.

The idea that Malgorm would be perceived as a noble hero in the narrative made you roll your eyes, but Eris assured you that there wasn’t a single individual in this court who didn’t know how vile Malgorm truly was. It made you feel slightly better.

You had been bored out of your mind for the past three days. Your injuries were almost fully healed, thanks to the work of the healers. Nesta had come to visit you a few times, brushing your hair or holding you in her arms until you fell asleep again. You yearned for the additional comfort of Eris’s presence, but he was understandably busy. Nesta insisted he was remorseful for his lack of time to see you, but you could feel it through the bond already.

Part of you was still angry with Eris for hiding his knowledge of the bond. Deep down, you knew he did it out of concern for your safety, but even though you had come to terms with the idea of Eris being your mate, the betrayal still stung. You tried to ignore it – Eris had worked so hard and sacrificed so much to help you and Nesta, the least you could do was give him the benefit of the doubt. But with everything that had happened, there hadn’t been a good time to talk about it with him yet.

Lirilla had also paid you one or two visits over the past three days. She had thanked you over a dozen times, tearfully expressing how she owed you an eternal debt for bringing her back at the cost of never seeing your own mother again if you were to die. You had teared up in response, a hundred different emotions running through you. At first, you had expected to feel some faint resentment, knowing your mother’s soul had brought back the Lady of Autumn.

But there was none. In fact, you had an opportunity few others had – to say a proper goodbye to a departed loved one, and have one final moment wrapped in their embrace. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t cried into your pillow several times over the memory, clinging onto it as if it would fade away into the breeze. But somehow, having Lirilla alive and present helped you.

Night began to fall on the third day since Beron’s death, and it took you great effort to pry yourself out of the warm bubble bath a servant had drawn from you. Lavender and mint clung to your scent from the healing soaps you had used to scrub yourself raw, still feeling the sticky sensation of Malgorm’s blood being painted over you. No matter how many times you bathed, it wouldn’t go away.

After putting on a pale grey nightgown, you settled into bed to read when a soft knock sounded at your door. The inside of your chest warmed and fluttered like a cat purring, and you felt the bond glow with happiness. You knew who it was before the door even opened. “Come in, Nesta.” You called out, propping yourself up on the lush green pillows.

Nesta entered your room, still wearing her dark red dress from dinner. Half her hair was pulled back into a braid, the other half cascading down her back in elegant waves. In her hand was a plate of fresh strawberries, the unmistakable rich smell of chocolate coming from the small bowl beside the fruit.

Your mouth watered. “Please tell me those are for me.”

“No, I brought them all this way just to make you watch me eat them in front of you.” Nesta said dryly, closing the door behind her. “Of course they’re for you. I snagged them from dessert. Figured you’d want some.”

“Obviously.” You said, shifting more to the centre of the bed and patting the space next to you. The bed was absolutely massive, leaving tons of room for the female to come sit beside you. After kicking off her shoes and sliding under the thick covers, she settled the plate carefully on her lap. Wordlessly, you curled into Nesta’s side, resting your head on her chest and sighing contently. Slender fingers came up to tangle themselves in your hair, gently caressing the locks. Nesta’s free hand reached down and grabbed a strawberry, dipping it in the chocolate before bringing it to your lips. Eagerly, you lifted your head slightly and moaned as warm dark chocolate hit your tongue, along with the sweet taste of the freshest strawberry you’d ever had.

“Mmm…” You mumbled, swallowing the delicacy. “I could die happy right now.”

With the hand that was stroking your hair, Nesta smacked you lightly. “Don’t you dare even joke about that,” She scolded. “You’ve had too many close calls for that to be even remotely funny.”

“Whatever. Feed me another chocolate covered strawberry and I’ll shut up about it.”

Nesta rolled her eyes but obliged, and you rested your head back on her chest after swallowing. You couldn’t help but notice how different she was now from when you first met her in the House of Wind. Her body had filled out, soft flesh hiding the brittle bones that used to stick out from underneath her pale skin. For Nesta to be relaxed enough to be this close to you as a huge change. She was not on edge, body tense and flinching with every shift in movement. Even when you had tentatively held her hand or brushed your knee against hers while in the Night Court, she seemed afraid of the contact, always tensing before relaxing into you.

Now, she showed no signs of anxiety. You knew that physical touch was not something that Nesta was used to, but you could tell through the bond that she was comfortable doing it with you.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Nesta asked, noting your silence.

“You.” You said truthfully.

She snorted. “Care to elaborate?”

“You’re different now.” You admitted, choosing your words carefully.

But her voice was curious, not defensive as she spoke. “How so?”

“I feel like you’re more… you. You’re not putting up a wall anymore. You seem more comfortable in your own skin, that’s all.”

You felt Nesta rest her cheek on the top of your head. “I do. You’ve helped me with that.”

You shook your head. “No, Nesta. That was all you.”

“Perhaps. But you being there by my side throughout all of this has helped.”

You hesitated before asking the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now. “Do you have any regrets about doing this?”

A moment of silence filled the room. Part of you had constantly asked yourself if you were dragging Nesta into your plan too much. As much as you knew she wanted out of the Night Court, to switch courts so quickly after having her entire life uprooted by the Cauldron was a drastic change.

“No.” Nesta said confidently. “Not for a second. I have no desire to return to the Night Court. While I will always love my sisters, it is clear that they care about their image more than what is truly best for me. I have no place there in their little found family, and that does not bring me any sadness. Now, I am free to make my own decisions free of their scrutiny, and that brings me comfort. So no, I don’t regret taking this journey with you.”

You closed your eyes, the rhythmic stroking of Nesta’s fingers through your hair making you tired. “We have to talk about Cassian at some point. About all of us, about what comes next.”

You felt Nesta sigh. You knew she didn’t want to talk about Cassian, and neither did you. But he was convinced that he is Nesta’s mate, something that could potentially bring a threat. If he invoked a blood duel, Eris would certainly win with his new power as High Lord. But you? You stood no chance against the Lord of Bloodshed.

“You’re right.” Nesta said slowly. “But I think we need to wait for Eris before we have this conversation. It involves him, too.”

“You’re right. When will I get to see him?”

“He said he’d come here after his last meeting. He should be here soon.”

You sat up, reaching for the plate and grabbing another chocolate covered strawberry. You felt a bit of the chocolate smear on the side of your lip as you ungracefully popped the strawberry into your mouth, attempting to keep the expensive duvet free of mess.

“You’ve got something on your face.” Nesta snorted.

You rolled your eyes at her. “Wow, I didn’t notice. Thank you so much for pointing–”

Your sentence trailed off as Nesta reached down and slowly wiped the chocolate off your lip with her finger. You watched with wide eyes as she then took that chocolate covered finger and closed her lips around it, sucking the chocolate off. Her blue-grey eyes never left yours as she did so, making your body tingle.

“That was one of the top five hottest things you've done.” You said, causing Nesta to raise an eyebrow.

“Oh, you have a list now, do you?” She murmured, amusement across her sharp face.

You shrugged nonchalantly, but heat flooded your cheeks. Truthfully, everything Nesta did was absolutely mesmerising to you. It was almost impossible to actually think of five moments that stood out. “Maybe.” Was all you mumbled in response.

Nesta simply chuckled, then leaned down and sensually pressed her lips to yours. You moaned into her mouth, melting into the touch. It was different from the tender two kisses you shared previously – ones that were gentle and soft, as if you were both afraid that the other would disappear from in front of you at any moment. No, this kiss was more passionate, sending goosebumps up your arms despite the warmth of the room. She tasted like chocolate and wine, and it took all your self control not to simply melt right there and then.

When Nesta eventually pulled away, she cradled your head back into her chest. You were so comfortable, encased in the expensive fabric of the lush bedsheets and cuddled up against Nesta’s side. A distinct knock on the door snapped you back to consciousness. “Three guesses who that is.” You muttered groggily.

Nesta snorted, but called out, “Come in, Eris.”

Surely enough, the door swung open to reveal Eris. His red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he was dressed in his sleepwear of a white tunic with long, billowy sleeves tucked into loose brown pants. Despite the casual look, the soft hum of power coming from the male made it hard to mistake him as anything other than a High Lord.

“How’d you know it was me?” Eris asked, closing the door behind him as he sauntered into your room.

“Oh please, you knock like a pampered princess.” You said playfully, popping another strawberry in your mouth.

Eris narrowed his eyes at the delicately placed bowl of melted chocolate on Nesta’s thigh. “Please tell me you’re not getting chocolate on my expensive bed sheets.”

“You’re High Lord, can’t you just use your fancy new power to remove any spills?”

“Ugh, please don’t remind him he’s High Lord.” Nesta insisted, rolling her eyes. “It’ll get to that pretty head of his and he’ll become even more insufferable than he already is. Besides, he hardly needs reminding with how much he throws his new title in everyone’s faces every two seconds.”

You laughed, causing Eris to look down at you from where he was standing at the end of the bed, pressing a pale hand to his chest with mock hurt. “Your cruelty wounds me,” He sighed. “I do not know what I did to deserve such treatment.”

“You make it too easy.” You patted the space next to you on your other side. Eris scoffed, but peeled back the covers and crawled under them anyway, sliding right next to you and resting his back against one of the many pillows behind you. You leaned forward and grabbed another chocolate covered strawberry, bringing it up in front of his face. “Here you go, oh mighty High Lord.” You said dramatically.

The male raised an eyebrow, but kept his amber eyes on yours as he leaned forward and gently took the fruit from your hand with his mouth, lips brushing your fingers ever so slightly. You suppressed a shiver at the sensation, trying to ignore Eris’s moan as he savoured the rich chocolate. You straightened up, no longer leaning against Nesta’s chest but instead still keeping your shoulder pressed against hers.

“Delicious.” Eris muttered after swallowing. “And exactly what I needed after today.”

“What did you get up to today?” You asked. “Or any of the past three days, since I haven’t been allowed outside of this room to see for myself.”

Eris shot you a light glare. “As both of us have explained to you several times, you are in here because we need to wait until things settle for a few days. Right now, you are vulnerable. Both physically and in terms of your position as an unwed and unengaged female. While I intend to eliminate anyone with the same mindset as my father regarding females of your status who refuse to change, they might not yet be revealing themselves. Many have tried to challenge me these past few days, and every one of them has been turned to ash. I need to ensure nobody will come after you.”

You sighed, knowing Eris was right. A female like you without ties to a male would be an easy target for those looking to cling to Beron’s ways. You briefly wondered exactly how many people Eris had slain in his first few days of being High Lord, but dared not ask. “Did everyone believe the story about Hybern assassins being responsible?” You chose to ask instead.

“Mostly.” Eris said. “Those who seemed suspicious have been dealt with. But it matters not. I am High Lord now, and the court knows that if they dare question how I came to be in this position, they will not live to see the next sunrise.”

“So what happens now?” Nesta spoke up. “With the three of us, I mean. And we still have the Night Court to deal with, not to mention Cassian.”

“Given your sister’s situation with her pregnancy, I believe the Night Court will be occupied by that for the next while.” Eris said. “She is due soon, is she not?”

Nesta nodded, but said nothing.

“Can we help Feyre?” You asked hesitantly, feeling Nesta’s turmoil through the bond. While she did not part on good terms with her sister, you could tell she felt anguish at the idea of Feyre dying because of this pregnancy. And as much as you disliked the High Lady, you did not wish such a fate upon her either.

Eris spoke with caution. “I have spoken with our best healers. And to be truthful, yes, we have the means of removing the baby surgically rather than having little Archeron try to deliver the child naturally. But I do not think it’s a question of whether or not we can, but whether or not we should.”

You blinked in surprise, feeling Nesta tense beside you. “What do you mean?” You asked. “If we have a way to save her life, why not use it?”

Eris shifted slightly, turning on his side to face you. “Because it is leverage we can use against them. A bargaining tool. We could promise to save the High Lady’s life on the condition that they leave us alone, permanently. That they are never to enter our court without permission, including the brute.”

You bit your tongue. Nesta was silent beside you, her expression unreadable. “Nesta?” You asked quietly, pressing your arm into her. “What do you think we should do?”

There was a minute of silence before she straightened her spine, grey eyes finally landing on you and Eris as she spoke. “The Feyre I knew who went under the mountain is gone.” She said, her voice like steel. “Once she accepted the mating bond, she changed. Rhys changed her. The Feyre I knew would never just sit by and let her mate make the decisions for her. The Feyre I knew would never have sent me to be locked up if Rhys hadn’t planted the idea in her head first. She used Elain as a bargaining chip to strong arm me into doing her bidding. If she has no qualms about using our lives for her own gain, then I have no issue doing the same with hers. But under one condition. Feyre has to agree to it. Hers is the only opinion that matters. Rhys cannot accept the terms, only she can. It will be her choice, and her choice alone.”

Eris nodded respectfully. “Very well then. Once everything settles further over the next week or so, I will set up a meeting with the Night Court and we can propose our bargain.”

“Cassian can’t be there.” Nesta said suddenly. “I can’t see him. Please.”

“We won’t let him try and take you,” You grabbed her hand, holding it reassuringly. “I promise.”

Nesta bit her lip, worry lining her features. “He thinks we’re mates. I don’t trust him not to try something.”

“Cassian does not stand a chance against us.” Eris said calmly, fiddling with the emerald ring on his finger. “Although I am curious as to why he is acting like a mated male when Estelle said he is not mated to you, Nesta. There’s something else at work here, maybe having him at the meeting will allow us to figure out what it is.”

Nesta hesitated, but exhaled softly. “Fine. Cassian can be there. But the dragons will come to the meeting.”

“They will be delighted.” Eris chuckled. “I am sure they will happily eat anyone who dares protest against our lovely mating bonds.”

You went still, the soft sheets of the bed suddenly stifling. Aside from your brief moment after saving Lirilla, you hadn’t yet acknowledged or discussed your mating bond with Eris yet. With Nesta it was easier, as you had plenty more time together to mull things over. But with Eris, it all happened so fast. The High Lord duties swept him away from you before you could even propose the discussion.

“Eris…” You said carefully after a few moments. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew we were mates?”

At first, the male did not reply. Eris Vanserra usually had a witty reply for everything, a silver tongue that came up with a response within a half second no matter how unprepared he was for the question. So you turned to face him. Eris’s expression was one of regret, tender sadness in his usually stone cold eyes. But the mask was off. He had no need for it anymore.

“There were so many things happening at once.” Eris said slowly. “I did not know how you would react, truthfully. We all needed to be focused, just until we were safe from my father. I did not want to risk compromising what I’ve been working towards for years. It is selfish, I am well aware. But it is the truth. If you knew about the bond, who knows how different things could have been? And if anyone found out, it would be used against us. I could not let that happen.”

The High Lord swallowed thickly, his slender hand gently coming to cover your fingers as he continued. “I know what a breach of trust this was, little fox, especially after you put your faith in me. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it, because I selfishly cannot stand the idea of you hating me for it.”

You inhaled a shaky breath, wetness lining your eyes. You felt Nesta rubbing your back comfortingly, as if she, too, felt your pain through the bond. “I don’t hate you for it.” You said quietly. “I understand your reasoning, I just wish none of this had to be this way.”

Eris smiled sadly. “I wish that very much, too. Although this path has led me to you, to Nesta. So despite everything, I have no other regrets about how things played out.”

“Me too.” Nesta said from behind you, squeezing your shoulder. “It was all worth it to get out of that situation, to end up with both of you.”

Your heart fluttered as you smiled. Even though the past months have been hell, they lead you to Nesta and Eris. Everything you had been through, it was all worth it to get here. Because you knew that even though the horrors you had endured would keep you up at night, you’d have your mates to ease the pain.

But your smile faded as reality sunk back in. “What about the wedding?” You asked. “If you two are getting married, where does that leave me? I know marriage is a sham at the end of the day, and the mating bond is what truly connects us. But I admit that I will not feel like an equal if you two are wed.”

You felt the bed shift as Eris straightened beside you. A hint of a blush came over his cheeks as he coughed before speaking. “Well, I thought of a solution for that. It’s a bit outlandish, and something that would definitely make the majority of this court lose their minds over it. And don’t be afraid to tell me I am a fool for this, Mother knows everyone else will be–”

“Eris.” Nesta said sharply, cutting off the male’s rambling. “Spit it out already.”

You could feel Eris’s nerves in your chest as if they were your own. You had never seen him so flustered before, so unsure of what to say.

“Well,” He continued, taking a deep breath. “It is not unheard of in Pythian’s history for a High Lord to take two wives…”

“You’d want to marry both of us?” Nesta said incredulously.

Eris blushed further, his eyes narrowing angrily at the heat of his cheeks. “Well, it would be a good way to ensure you are both protected–”

“Stop.” You cut him off firmly, squeezing his hand. Eris was silenced immediately, doubt flickering in his eyes as if he were afraid this would happen. “Fuck the political scheming and doing everything for the sake of a plan. We’ve made it this far, guys. It’s time to think about what we want, not what we should do. So, Eris, what do you want?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have you both as my wives…”

Nesta snorted. “A heartfelt proposal, Eris. Well done.”

Eris shot a playful glare at the female. “Smartass. Watch it, or I’ll leave your finger without a ring and keep (Y/N) all to myself.”

“Oh, please. You’re too obsessed with me to do that.”

“I am afraid you are right, Nesta Archeron.”

The three of you laughed, the harmony of it echoing throughout the spacious room like a song. But Nesta’s serious tone returned, cutting the laughter off. “But seriously, Eris, are you proposing this because this is what you want, or because of the mating bond?”

Eris shifted as he reached forward, taking each of you and Nesta’s hands in his own. The authority of the High Lord rang in his voice as he spoke, his amber eyes meeting Nesta’s blue-grey ones. “Make no mistake, I am happy about the mating bond. But it does not create this desire from nothing. It merely amplifies what is already there. The desire to marry you, Nesta, began the day we danced together in the Hewn City. I knew then that I wanted you as my equal at my side. I wanted you because you were you, sharp tongue and all, not because a mating bond made it be so.”

Eris then turned to face you. “The desire to marry you, (Y/N), began the day you came to me with your plan. I saw your resilience, your brilliant mind, and I wanted you. Not for your magic, or your connection to the Mother. I didn’t even know you were my mate then, or that you possessed a unique power, and I wanted you. My desire for both of you did not come from wanting something from you, or because of a mating bond. You asked me what I wanted, (Y/N), and this is it. I want you and Nesta as my equals, my wives, my High Ladies by my side. If that is what you wish, of course.”

You teared up, seeing Nesta do the same. Eris spoke so fiercely, so passionately it pulled at your heart strings. All this time, you had prepared yourself to see Eris and Nesta marry for political convenience, leaving you on the side with your secret ancient vows to Nesta that could never be shared with the outside world. You had prepared yourself to put aside your feelings for Eris, and your feelings for Nesta, to once again make a sacrifice for the ones you loved.

But you didn’t have to do that. Somehow, along the way Nesta and Eris had fallen for each other. And you had fallen for Eris, and he for you. The bond the three of you shared was deeper than any mating bond – it was a bond of survival, of fighting for a better life. A life you now couldn’t imagine sharing with anyone else.

“I would like that very much.” You said through tears, squeezing Eris’s hand.

“And I as well.” Nesta said softly. “Although I never thought of being High Lady.”

“You are both free to pass on that,” Eris said. “It would simply be an added bonus. But you both have enough power to be my equal as High Ladies, and you would be free to be as involved or removed from court politics as you wish.”

You glanced at Nesta, meeting her eyes. You knew Nesta had never possessed any ambitions to become a leader. She was content to simply exist in her own life, as long as she had control over it.

But this opportunity Eris was presenting could be used to help people. All you wanted was to make Autumn safe for females in a way Rhysand failed to do with his own court. Perhaps instead of relying on Eris to make it happen, you could do it yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You said.

“Me neither.” Nesta replied, nodding. “If my sister can be High Lady, so can I.”

“Feyre Archeron does not know how to run a court,” Eris snorted. “You’re the sister much better suited to the job.”

“One more thing.” You interjected, turning to Nesta. “Technically, we are already married due to the spell we used to create the daemati bond. But I would like to redo it, with a proper wedding. That way, the world will know that we aren’t just married to Eris, but to each other as well. I want everyone to know you’re just as much mine as Eris’s. If you’ll have me.”

It was not how you could have ever imagined proposing to Nesta, fumbling over your words so casually as if you were suggesting trying a new food for lunch. But it felt right. You wanted to be married to Nesta properly, in the eyes of the world. True, you had known her for less than a year. But you knew in your heart you would want to marry her eventually – why not now while she was already marrying Eris?

Nesta’s lips twitched for a second, as if she were instinctively fighting off her smile. But then her face loosened, and she allowed her smile to stretch across her cheeks fully. “Of course I’ll have you, you fool.” She said softly. “Without a shadow of a doubt.”

“In that case, I shall inform the priestess so she can modify the ceremony.” Eris said, grinning in a way that made your heart sing. “If my father could see this, he would lose his mind. As will many members of the court, probably. Having two High Ladies married to each other and me will be a lot for them to comprehend.”

“It’s actually possible, right?” Nesta asked him. “For all three of us to be married?”

“There is no law or religious text that prevents it, my dear.” Eris reassured her. “It will be legitimate, I swear.”

You smiled, another tear of happiness slipping down your cheek. “So this is really happening, we’re all getting married?”

Eris nodded. “Yes, love. We are. And we can take as much time as we want to plan the wedding so it’s exactly how we want it, not how my father wanted it to be. It will be a day about all three of us.”

It was like a heavy boulder had been lifted off your chest. All of the anxiety of the past few weeks was gone, replaced by pure happiness at the idea of marrying Nesta and Eris. Before, the talk of a wedding filled you with dread, a reminder that you were engaged to a cruel male who would delight in torturing you however he could. The idea of a wedding made you feel sick, and sad at the same time knowing you’d have no say in any of the planning.

But with Eris as High Lord and your soon to be new position as High Lady, everything would be different. You would be able to pick out your dress, the flowers, the cake, everything. After months and months of having no control over your life, you were finally taking the reins back.

You wrapped your arms around Eris, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “Thank you.” You muttered.

When Eris pulled away, his amber eyes burned into yours. It ignited something in you, making your blood sing as his voice dropped as he spoke. “I know by tradition I am supposed to wait until the wedding to kiss my brides. But I would really like to kiss you now. Both of you.”

“Fine by me.” You said, your heart racing and drowning out the sound of your own voice.

Eris smirked, his hands coming up to either side of your face to cup your jaw. Towering over you, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to your own. Instantly, it was like a tidal wave of lust surged through the bond, as you melted into his mouth. It wasn’t the seductive, claiming kiss you had expected an Autumn court male like Eris to give. It was just as sensual, but softer, like a warm hearth rather than blazing wildfire. It was a kiss of love, of promise for a better world.

Your hands brushed the fabric of Eris’s tunic as he kissed you, and you felt the male shiver beneath your touch. When his lips finally abandoned yours, you let out an involuntary whine at the loss of contact.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Eris purred, his thumb stroking your cheek. “There will be plenty of time for more later.”

The High Lord then turned towards Nesta, taking her hands in his own. You watched as he leaned forward, kissing her with the same tenderness he had with you. Nesta’s eyes fluttered closed at the contact, her body relaxing. They were like a scene from a painting. Nesta’s wavy locks contrasting with the fiery straight hair of Eris, their heads angled so perfectly as their lips moulded together with longing.

As you watched your mates kiss, you felt no jealousy. No anger. No feeling of exclusion. You only felt love – happiness that the two people you cared for most loved each other just as much as you loved them.

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autumnshighlady · 5 months

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 18)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: it's time to meet Beron

warnings: Night Court slander, anti Rhysand, MENTIONS OF R*PE/SA, BRIEF SA IMPLICATIONS (nothing graphic but it's still icky)

word count: 5.9k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: things are picking up again! more plottwists and turns hehe, i hope you enjoy this chapter!

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 /

read on ao3

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Your wrists were sweating beneath the cuffs that adorned your wrists. Every inch of your body trembled, remembering the last time you had been chained up. It was necessary, you reminded yourself. Beron had to see you as a prisoner, as much as you hated that role you needed to look the part.

The servants had put you in a tattered gown and covered your skin in smears of dirt and grime. You looked very convincing, almost too convincing. Every time you glanced down at yourself, that cold, familiar feeling washed over you - the one that made your heart stop beating for a split second and left you wondering if you were back in Rhysand’s dungeons. The servants’ eyes were sympathetic as they tied the gag around your mouth as gently as possible, quietly offering you words of comfort through your tears.

Nesta and Eris were already in the throne room with Beron. They had been in there for a few minutes, but it had felt like hours. Two of Eris’ personal guards stood on either side of you - Saeros and Ivar were their names, they had politely informed you. You wondered how many other people in the Autumn Court were secretly loyal to Eris rather than their current High Lord. At the very least, it gave you confidence that Eris’s succession would go smoothly.

Saeros, a tall male with long brown hair and a stern face gently squeezed your arm. It's time, he seemed to say. You nodded subtly, understanding. After a deep breath, you began thrashing wildly in their grip just as the heavy doors to the throne room swung open. You kicked and rocked back and forth, screaming through the gag. The guards held you firm, dragging you across the ground towards the throne. You dared not sneak a glance to the right side of the bottom steps, knowing Nesta and Eris stood there. You focused on your performance, putting up a hell of a fight. Eventually, you ended up on your knees right before the bottom of the throne stairs. You forced your eyes upwards and were met with the sneering face of Beron Vanserra.

His slender face was twisted in a mix of disgust and glee. Ageing brown hair was too slicked back, reminding you of a snakeskin. His eyes were so dark brown they were basically black - bottomless dark voids of hatred that knew new bounds. A golden crown sat upon his head, a bright red jewel in the centre of it. Bony fingers gripped the sides of his throne, knuckles white. He was sizing you up like you were his next meal, and you tried not to squirm underneath his gaze.

“Consider this your Autumn Equinox gift from me, father.” Eris’s smug voice filled the room as the guards removed your gag. “One of Rhysand’s spies, (Y/N), was found at the border. She claims she’s fleeing from him, and is seeking sanctuary.”

Beron’s eyes gleamed even more. “Is that true?”

You gulped, forcing yourself to shake slightly in fear. “Yes, my Lord.”

“And why would you be running away from your master?” The male sneered. “I don’t believe it for a second, girl. For all we know, he sent you here to spy on us.”

“He did not.” You let the tears you had summoned fall down along your cheeks. “I swear by the Mother, my Lord.”

Beron rolled his eyes and huffed. He turned to Eris as if you were no longer there. “Why did you even bother bringing her here, boy?” He growled at his son. “This is not my problem. Send her back to Rhysand, or just kill her and be done with it. I couldn’t care less.”

“I have intel.” You blurted out, remembering the angle Eris had told you to play. “Valuable intel that could change everything. I will tell you everything I know if you give me sanctuary. Please, my Lord, I beg you.”

Something in Beron’s gaze shifted, as he seemingly contemplated the weight of your words. He paused for a moment before speaking. “You’re not from the Night Court originally, are you?” You opened your mouth to speak, but the High Lord cut you off before you could form any words. “I’ve been around long enough to tell which court someone belongs to, girl. The Night Court stench that clings to you is not very strong, so you clearly haven’t been there long. You stink of flowers, so I assume it is the Spring Court you originate from?”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your eyes burned into the floor, and it took all your willpower not to glance at Eris and Nesta. They were so close, yet so far away.

“And how does a girl from the Spring Court end up as one of Rhysand’s spies, only to flee from him less than a year into the job?”

“My father was one of Tamlin’s closest advisors. When Hybern came, I was the only one of my family to survive. My entire village was gone, so I wandered until one of Rhysand’s spies found me.” You decided to leave out that it was Lucien who found you. “They took me in and kept me prisoner, my only way to have a chance at living a life was to spy for them in return for my life being saved. I trained under the Spymaster, and was sent on several small missions to Spring. I hated it, and wanted out. But one day I overheard something…” You shook your shoulders, letting your voice trail off.

“Go on.” Beron snapped with little patience.

“Apologies, my Lord.” You continued. You could feel Nesta and Eris’s gazes burning into you as you put on a performance. “The Spymaster and Rhysand spoke of a weapon, a Made weapon. One that the High Lord could use to claim the title of High King and take over all of Prythian.”

Beron’s face went red with anger, and you resisted the urge to chuckle. His hands gripped the throne so tightly you were surprised it didn’t shatter.

“Father, if Rhysand intends to seize that title–” Eris spoke up but was cut off.

“I’d sooner spend a thousand years being tortured in Hel before I kneel to that half-breed scum!” Spit was practically flying out of the High Lord’s mouth as he yelled, outraged. “I will slaughter him and his entire court before I let him take my own!”

You finally caught a glimpse of Eris as he left Nesta’s side and walked up the steps to his father. You willed your cheeks not to flush as you caught sight of him. His deep red tunic was clinging to his frame, a pattern suited for none other than royalty. His hair was pulled back in a simple braid, with a few loose jaw-length strands framing his face. Eris whispered something in his father’s ear, but he was so quiet even your fae hearing could not make out his words. Whatever he said worked, as he retreated back to Nesta’s side and Beron began to calm down. His face returned to its normal ashy colour as he settled back into his throne.

“Now, why would Rhysand becoming High King make you run away?” Beron asked, all too calmly. “Surely you’d benefit from it, being a member of his court after all.”

“Because when he found out I knew, he imprisoned and tortured me.” You didn’t have to fake the tremor in your voice this time as you recalled the cold dungeon.

“And yet you got out.”

“They let me out to complete a mission, and I used it as an opportunity to run.”

Beron’s eyes narrowed, and fear churned in your gut. If he did not believe you, then this was all for nothing. You silently pleaded for help, yet you weren’t even sure to whom. All you could think of was keeping your racing heart from exploding out of your chest.

“She’s telling the truth, father.” Eris piped up, as if he had heard your pleas.

“And how do you know that?” The High Lord’s voice was dry and bored, which worried you even more.

“I noticed fresh wounds on her back when I found her.”

“Show me.”

At Beron’s command, Eris stepped towards you. You met his amber gaze, which was stone cold. It lacked the warmth that had been present a few hours ago in the dining room. This was the mask that Eris had worn for centuries. You had never quite gotten used to it, to how easily he slipped in and out of his guise.

Eris nodded at the guards, who turned you around so your back was facing the throne. Before you could register what was happening, the prince’s slender hands gripped the neckline of your dress from behind and pulled. A loud ripping sound echoed throughout the room as Eris pulled your dress in half, exposing your wounded back. Shame rushed through your veins as you felt the cold air on your backside, which was clearly on display to the High Lord now.

You whimpered, not entirely for show as embarrassment flooded your cheeks. Beron stared at you for what you thought was too long before the guards turned you back to face him. “He did a number on you, girl.” Beron chuckled humourlessly. You could tell by his tone that he almost admired the bloody artwork on your back. Beron Vanserra was no stranger to amusement from torture - that you knew.

“My Lord,” Nesta’s voice spoke up like music to your ears. “You called me in here to display my powers, did you not? May I suggest we get on with it?”

You tensed at Nesta’s brazen challenge. It was stupid to speak to the male in such a tone in his own throne room, and you half expected him to simply scoff and smite Nesta to ash right there and then. But instead, Beron simply huffed. “Very well. Impress me, Nesta Archeron, and I shall allow you to marry my eldest son. If not…”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence for it to be understood that it was a threat. For the first time, you glanced at Nesta. Her hair was neatly braided as usual, and she wore a dark red gown bearing the same pattern as Eris’s tunic. It had a high neckline and long sleeves, a thousand times more modest than anything in the Night Court. Yet it suited her, and brought about an elegance that enhanced her beauty even more.

Nesta only nodded, and the guards hauled you off to the side. Nesta took your place at the bottom of the throne, smoothing her skirts. For a second, her gaze fluttered to Eris, who gave her a reassuring nod. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. When she opened them again they glowed silver, and you noticed Beron sitting forward in his seat. Silver flames began to whorl around her fingertips, dancing like leaves in the wind as they scattered throughout the room.

Nesta’s entire body began to glow as more and more fire poured out of her. You glanced at Beron again, seeing panic in his eyes as the flames rushed towards him. They leapt over him like a wave, and it was only a few seconds before you felt another wall of silver fire headed towards you and your guards. Yet you did not feel any fear, only a deep sense of trust that whatever happened, Nesta’s flames wouldn’t hurt you. They cocooned around you, trapping you inside them but never touching you. Through the flickers, you could just make out the same thing happening to Eris, Beron, and everyone else in the room. Nesta had bathed the entire room in her silver fire, yet did not harm a soul. It was to exemplify control, to show Beron that she could manipulate the magic to do whatever she, or Beron, wanted.

The noise of the flames was not a harsh, crackling noise like most fires. It was soothing, like the tide of the ocean or the rush of wind on a summer’s eve. The flames danced and sang to you, a force so strong you could practically hear words emitting from them in an ancient tongue.

After a few moments, the flames retreated to Nesta’s side. Like a tsunami, they pulled in behind her glowing figure and arched over fifteen feet in the air. Everyone’s mouth was agape as the flames moulded and shaped themselves into a dragon’s head identical to Athariel’s. Nesta remained glowing at the base of the dragon’s neck, its head arching above her like a protective dog. She was completely and utterly still, as if her mind was both present and relieving the memories of an ancient god from a millenia ago at the same time.

You swallowed thickly, emotion overcoming you. Months ago, Nesta had been too afraid to summon even a flame. Now, here she was, shaping her fire into majestic serpents with full control over them. You were proud, but couldn’t help the pang in your chest. Nesta had faced so many challenges while you were stuck in a cell, unable to witness her growth. It was time you could never get back.

Without struggling, the silver flames retreated, fading into Nesta’s fingertips as they went out. When she opened her eyes again, they were their normal shade of grey. You looked around, expecting to see a room scorched. But there was no damage - the flames did not burn anything.

The room is utterly silent for a few minutes, Beron’s expression unreadable. Even Eris was shuffling on his feet, nervousness apparent. Finally, the High Lord spoke. “Consider me impressed, Nesta Archeron.” His voice was suspiciously kind, and both you and Eris blinked in surprise at the same time. “And consider yourself having my blessing for this marriage with my son.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” Nesta said, bowing her head.

“Wonderful.” Beron clapped his hands together. “We shall have the wedding in two months' time, and (Y/N)’s wedding the month after.”

Every bone in your body froze. “What?” Was all you managed to stutter through your dry throat.

Beron smiled, an unsettling gesture. “I accept your request for sanctuary in exchange for information, as the intel you provided is crucial in the survival of my court.” He said smoothly. “Yet you seem to have a habit of bouncing between courts, so I will assure that you remain here where I can keep an eye on you. You shall be marrying Melgorm, my second youngest son. You are from a respectable family, are you not? You should be honoured at the chance to marry someone from a royal bloodline.”

You glanced over at Eris, whose mask had fallen entirely. His face was one of pure horror, panic settling over his amber eyes. You weren’t sure if you were still breathing, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. You had heard stories of Eris and Lucien’s brothers, none of them good.

“Have chambers prepared for the lady.” Beron ordered the guards. “You will all be staying here as wedding preparations are made. This meeting is over. Congratulations to the happy couples.” The High Lord’s smile was one of pure evil and gloating as he drank in your distress.

You felt numb as the guards dragged you to your new chambers, locking the door behind you as you entered the room.

*********************

Over the next half hour, you scrubbed the dirt off your skin in the bath and changed into a soft, gold nightgown. You had hardly felt the scalding water, nor the harsh scrapes of the brush as you tried to scrub away the memories of that entire interaction. Every time you thought about Beron’s smiling face as he announced he was marrying you off, you felt ill.

You had not been naive growing up – you knew most marriages between noble High Fae families were arranged and as a result, often loveless at best. But you remembered the haunting fear in Lucien's eyes as he cried to you over the cruel things his brothers had done. You had accepted long ago that you would likely not marry for love, but this… this would be worse than a loveless marriage. It would be a whole new kind of torture.

As you sat lifelessly on the bed, a sharp gust of air swirled behind you, causing you to spin around. You yelped in surprise as you were met with Nesta and Eris. “Dammit, don't do that,” You hissed. “You made me jump out of my skin!”

You expected a witty comeback from Eris, but none came. His face was grave, and Nesta’s was filled with rage. They were both still dressed in their attire from the meeting. “I’m so sorry.” Eris blurted out. “I had no idea he would do that. I swear by it.”

“I believe–” You tried to speak but Eris continued rambling.

“If I had known he was going to do that I would have never–”

“Eris!” You practically yelled. “I believe you. It’s not your fault.”

The prince’s eyes were glassy as he walked around the bed and kneeled in front of you. He took your hands in his own and pressed his forehead against them. “Forgive me.” He muttered.

“Eris,” You said softly. “It’s ok.”

Amber eyes gazed up at you, even as his hands still tightly clung on to your own. He did not rise from his kneeling position. “No, it’s not.” He said. “You don’t know Malgorm. He is the worst of all my brothers. He makes my father look like a bunny rabbit.”

You felt the bed dip behind you and a familiar hand rubbed your shoulder. Nesta’s presence steadied you as she sat behind you, the warmth of her hand easing the shock from your body.

“Malgorm does not view females as people, but rather toys for his own personal amusement.” Eris continued. “None of his lovers have been his on their own free will. He does not hesitate to inflict pain on them, humiliate them, force himself…”

“Eris…” Nesta warned, her hand squeezing your shoulder even tighter.

“My point is, my father knows exactly damn well exactly what kind of monster his second youngest son is. I strongly suspect he wants to marry you to him because he hopes that he’ll kill you or just lock you away somewhere. That way he won’t have to worry about you becoming a problem.”

“So how do we stop it?” Nesta asked, her voice sharp like razors.

“We can’t.” Eris sighed, resting his chin on your knee. “Not while Beron is alive.”

“So then we kill him.” Nesta argued defiantly.

“If it was that simple don’t you think I’d have done it already? No, it takes planning. And time. Time to ensure that when I overthrow him, we for one, have a cover story; and two, have enough people on my side that there won’t instantly be a coup.”

You gently untangled one of your hands from his and then combed your fingers through his silky hair. “It’ll be ok.” You reassured him as you stroked the locks. “Plans change all the time. We just have to adapt.”

Eris sighed, closing his eyes and ever so slightly leaning into your touch. Nesta leaned forward gently and rested her head on your shoulder, sighing deeply. “This is bad.” She muttered. “This is really, really bad.”

“Yes,” You said firmly, heart fluttering at her and Eris’s closeness to you. “But we can’t change the past, so now we just have to figure out how to move forward. Eris, how much power is needed to take down a High Lord?”

“A lot.” The Prince mumbled.

“No shit.” You snorted. “Between the three of us, do you think we have enough?”

“Two of us.” Eris corrected. “You’re taking no part in this.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You haven’t trained your powers,” He said firmly. “It’s too risky to have you anywhere near this when it goes down.”

You scoffed, furious. “So I’m just supposed to stand by while you two risk your lives killing a High Lord? No, not gonna happen.”

“Dammit, (Y/N)!” Nesta snapped, silencing the room. “We just got you back. We’re not losing you again.”

You went quiet, tears welling in your eyes. You hated feeling useless, shackled down by your inability to be like everyone else. But deep down you knew they were right. Frankly, you weren’t even sure what you could do with your powers, let alone how to wield them. All you’d done is accidentally explode a mountain cave, and you didn’t even know what you were doing.

The Archeron sister inhaled deeply. “Eris and I will take care of Beron, end of story. Now, when we were still in the House of Wind, you said you had more planned for the Night Court.”

You nodded. “Yeah. Although frankly the rest of it was just vague ideas, I wasn’t even sure we’d make it this far to be honest.”

“Ye of little faith.” Eris chuckled, patting your hand. “So, little fox, what else is in this master revenge plan of yours? Was burning down the Inner Circle’s houses not enough?”

“No.” Your voice was firm. “That was just the beginning. I want to make sure their entire court knows how horrible they are. I want them to lose all their power.”

“And how do you plan on that?” The male beneath you asked, still resting his head in your hand.

You took a deep breath. You hadn’t uttered a word of this part of your plan to anyone, even Nesta. It had always seemed too big, too far away to be realistic. But it was here. You’d made it this far. “The women in the Night Court who don’t live in Velaris have suffered for too long.” You began. “I want to help them, to show them that just because their High Lord doesn’t care about them doesn’t mean others don’t. When Beron is overthrown, I need things in Autumn to change, Eris. I want this to become a court that’s safe for women, where they won’t have to worry about being mutilated or sold off like livestock.

“We can bring the Valkyrie training program here. Teach women how to fight and defend themselves if that’s what they wish. Create a village for females who have been traumatised by males and want to live in peace. Like the Library in the House of Wind, but less isolated. Once word gets out, we offer sanctuary to any females suffering – from Night Court or any court. Once the females start leaving Night, the males will turn on each other. The entire court will crumble.”

The room was silent for a minute before Eris spoke. “My dear, changing the ways of this court will take time…”

You cut him off. “No. That’s Rhysand’s exact excuse. You will be High Lord, Eris. Your word is law, and you can write and rewrite them as you wish. Anyone who opposes you can face the consequences. Make an example of those who oppose the loudest.”

“But then he’d be just like Beron.” Nesta protested.

“Beron used his power to enforce laws of hate,” You countered. “To make people's lives worse. You can use it to make them better, even if it's at the cost of some of the uptight males.”

You heard Eris chuckle into your leg, his amber eyes glinting. You yanked on his hair, not missing the way his throat bobbed. “What’s so funny?” You demanded.

“You’re just so sexy when you’re plotting revenge and the downfall of an enemy court.” Eris purred, rubbing your thigh ever so slightly with his hand. Your skin tingled beneath his touch, and you felt yourself heat up at the contact. Nesta chuckled, her sweet breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. With your mate behind you, her lips so close to your skin, and the silver tongued Autumn prince still kneeling in front of you, the room suddenly felt a lot warmer.

“Speaking of sexy and plotting revenge, there’s someone who I think could be of great use to this plan.” Eris continued.

Nesta frowned. “Who?”

Eris smirked, lifting his head and nodding towards the empty corner of the room. The darkness began to shift, familiar shadows curling to the side to reveal a dark set of leathers, accompanied by a pair of leathery wings and hazel eyes.

The Spymaster of the Night Court.

“What the fuck?” You practically yelled as Azriel stepped into the light. Nesta’s arm went in front of you protectively, her eyes smouldering.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Azriel said quietly, his scarred hands at his sides. “I’m working with Eris.”

“You… what?” You sputtered. Nesta was utterly still, like a lioness poised to strike at any second. While Azriel had refused to kill you and disobeyed Rhysand’s orders, you couldn’t forget how he grabbed you and put you in that cell. How you’d seen that dark side of the shadowsinger that everyone in Prythian feared.

“He and I began working together right before we rescued you.” Eris explained. “He told us where you were, and we began meeting in secret after that.”

“Why?” Your answers were limited to a few words, as you reeled with shock.

“Rhysand has been very shaken up by your escape,” Azriel spoke softly, trying to appear in the least threatening manner possible. “I wanted Eris to know if he was planning retaliation, so I’ve been reporting his movements.” The same mission he gave you to do on Tamlin.

“But… why? Why go through all of this for us?”

The shadowsinger shifted on his feet, swallowing thickly. “Because what I did… what I let happen… it was wrong. All of this was wrong, handled incredibly poorly on my family’s part. I know apologising will not mean anything, and it shouldn’t. I’ve done nothing to earn your trust, but I hope I can soon. I want to help you.” He glanced between you and Nesta. “Both of you.”

“You’re committing treason, Azriel.” Nesta said lowly. “Rhysand will kill you if he finds out.”

“He won’t find out unless I want him to.” Azriel said confidently. “And I can take care of myself.”

Eris piped up. “Azzy has been very useful to me. Rhysand thinks he’s spying on me, it’s quite ironic. We’re a fantastic pair if you ask me.”

The Illyrian rolled his eyes, but didn’t snap back like you had expected. Last you checked, the pair hated each other. Their allegiance was surprising, but opened up a whole other world of possibilities for getting into Night.

“I have something for you.” Azriel reached into his pocket, pulling out two neatly folded pieces of paper. “From your friends.”

You sucked in a breath, feeling Nesta do the same. You both missed Emerie and Gwyn terribly, and you found yourself plagued by guilt of leaving them behind. You grabbed one of the letters while Nesta grabbed the other, and began to read.

Nesta, (Y/N), Azriel told Gwyn and I everything. I am so sorry we couldn’t protect you, and it makes me sick to think about what Rhysand was doing to you, (Y/N). Things are going badly here – the training sessions have mostly been disbanded, Cassian is too unhinged right now to be around the priestesses. I think Rhysand is suspicious of us too, thinking we helped you somehow. I hope you’re both safe in Autumn with Eris. Azriel says we can hopefully visit soon, maybe we can move in with you guys haha. Thinking of you both, Emerie.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you looked over and saw Nesta’s doing the same. “Emerie said Cassian is….unhinged.” You said carefully, noting the female tense behind you. “What does that mean?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes shifted to Nesta. “There’s a lot on your plates right now, we don’t need to make it worse by discussing Cassian…”

“I would like to know.” Nesta said firmly, her voice monotone. You reached down and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze.

Azriel took a breath before replying. “He’s angry. Murderous. He would never hurt the priestesses, but he’s surrounded by a cloud of rage that terrifies everyone around him. He’s picking fights in the war camps every day, beating asshole generals half to death to let off steam. None of us can get through to him, except Rhysand. I fear he will snap and fly to Autumn to try and take Nesta back, he’s convinced himself she’s being held here against her will.”

“He can’t do that.” You blurted out.

Eris scoffed. “He can try. My father would love that, actually. The brute would be breaking a ton of rules and would be forfeiting his life by doing so. We won’t let anything happen to you, Nesta.”

You went to speak, but Azriel quickly shushed you. The room went still as tendrils of shadows scurried back to the spymaster. “Someone’s coming.”

“Here?” You whispered, confused.

“Yes, it’s your fiancé.” Azriel hissed. “Nesta, Eris, come here.”

Without a word, your mate and the Autumn Prince scurried over to the spymaster. He held out his arms, and Eris snorted. “You want a hug right now, bat boy?”

“Shut up. My shadows can shield us. Quickly.”

Eris rolled his eyes, but stepped into Azriel’s arm. Nesta did the same, eyes wide with panic. Shadows began to engulf them as they blended into the darkness. Within seconds, they had vanished entirely just as the doorknob began to turn.

The door swung open harshly, revealing a tall male who was unmistakably a Vanserra. He had a stocky build, a wide face with glowing amber eyes that were too close together for your liking. His red hair was short, slicked back in the exact same way Beron’s was. He wore elaborate armour that reeked with the faint stench of blood. Your blood chilled as he let out a sickly smile that reminded you of a demon. A golden tooth glinted in the candlelight, illuminating a white scar through his lip that spanned across the lower half of his face.

“Well, if it isn’t my lovely bride to be.” His voice was like a snake – smooth and charming, yet unmistakably dangerous.

“Malgorm.” You said evenly, standing up. You backed up, trying to put more space between you and the imposing male in front of you. That only egged him on more, as he took another large step towards you.

“The one and only.” He rubbed his hands together, sizing you up as if you were his next meal.

“What are you doing here?” You fought to keep the tremor out of your voice.

He shrugged. “I came to inspect my wife, of course. To see what I’m working with.”

Inspect. His choice of words chilled you. He truly saw you as an object, like you were a shiny new toy he was going to decide if he liked or not. There was a hunger in his eyes that scared you, one that looked like it was a bottomless pit, never satisfied. “I take it you’re a virgin?” He continued casually.

You lied. “Yes.”

Malgorm hummed in approval, walking around to your side of the bed. You stood your ground, despite every instinct telling you to run for the hills. When he reached you, he grabbed the neckline of your dress and pulled it towards him, eyes unabashedly going to your bare chest beneath.

Disgusted, you slapped his hand away instinctively, not thinking of the consequences. Malgorm let out a low growl and grabbed you by the throat, slamming you into the wall. Your head screamed at the impact, but your throat was too restricted to let out a gasp. He was like a feral beast, breathing heavily in your face like a hound salivating before a piece of fresh meat. He leaned forward, dragging his crooked nose along your neck and inhaling deeply. You whimpered – not in arousal, but in fear. You wanted to kick, scream, anything, but you felt frozen.

And Malgorm knew it.

He chuckled, biting your ear hard enough to draw blood. You winced as the liquid trickled down your neck. “I’m going to have fun with you.” He purred in your bleeding ear before finally letting you go just as the edges of your vision went blurry.

You fell to the floor, gasping for air as he turned to walk away. Your entire body trembled, and you felt like you were going to be sick.

“Until next time, my lovely.” Malgorm quipped before slamming the door behind him.

The second the male’s footsteps went out of earshot, the shadows in the corner quickly disappeared, Nesta and Eris shooting out from behind them like a rocket. Fury consumed Nesta’s features as she crouched down beside you and put a hand on your back. Her eyes glowed faintly as she spoke, and you noticed she was breathing heavily as if she had been struggling against something. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” She growled through her teeth.

Eris gently knelt on your other side and pulled a cloth from his pocket. He pressed it against your breathing ear while examining the forming bruises on your neck and the back of your head. It stung, but you barely felt it.

Azriel stepped forward, the disgust written clear as day on his face. “That’s who Beron is marrying you to?” He gaped, echoing your thoughts.

“Not if I can help it.” Nesta hissed, rubbing small circles on your back. “I don’t care what I have to do, I am not letting this marriage happen.”

“Neither am I,” Eris spoke cautiously, gently wiping the blood off your neck in soothing strokes. “But we have to be smart about this. We can’t just kill him randomly one afternoon, especially not before we deal with my father.”

You let out a sob, tears flowing down your cheeks. Nesta wiped them away with her sleeve, which only made you cry harder. Every time you thought you had escaped something bad, it only led to something worse. At this point, you were more scared of being held captive by Malgorm than Rhysand. At least you were pretty sure the High Lord of the Night Court wouldn’t rape you.

As Nesta comforted you and Eris tended to your wounds, you looked up at Azriel. You expected to see a look of disgust on his face at the sight of the three of you cuddled up together on the floor. Admittedly, you had no idea what to call whatever was going on between you all – you were mated to Nesta, who also had feelings for Eris, something you shared in common with her. Yet you felt no jealousy, no anger that your mate blushed whenever the male complimented her. You had assumed Azriel would find it strange, but there was no distaste on his features as he stared down at the three of you. There was something else behind his gaze, a mixture of regret, contentment, and something else you couldn’t place.

The shadowsinger’s deep voice filled the room, quieting your sobs. “I will help you get out of this marriage, (Y/N), if it’s the last thing I do. Whatever you need me to do, you only have to ask.”

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autumnshighlady · 1 month

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 26)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Eris has yet another surprise for you, and a secret is revealed

warnings: feyre slander, slightly nsfw towards the end

word count: 5.7k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: this is a filler chapter, sorry if it's boring! wedding is coming up next chapter i think. also so sorry the taglist got messed up somewhere halfway through teh fic and it wasn't actually tagging people so if you haven't been tagged like 15 chapters i fixed it now im so sorry!

read on ao3

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A throbbing headache greeted you as you peeled your eyes open, the bright rays of sunshine coming in through the window directly onto your face. You groaned, mouth dry as sand. Regret over those last few drinks washed over you as you rolled over, body shaky as you pushed yourself up.

“Morning!” Gwyn’s voice sounded through your blurry vision – her normally soft tone was ear-splitting due to your hangover.

“Ugh, please tone down your mouth noises.” You grumbled, rubbing your temples and yawning.

The redhead rolled her eyes, handing you a tray. “That’s what you get for drinking so much. A servant brought us a tray each for breakfast. Drink water and the tonic, you’ll feel better.”

You sighed, trying to fight off the hangover shakes as you reached for the tray. On the golden platter was a glass of water, a vial of liquid meant to ease how shitty you felt, and a plate with toast, eggs, fruit, and thick slices of bacon. The food smelled heavenly, but your stomach churned in protest. So you quickly downed the tonic before slowly sipping water, your throat no longer feeling like a desert.

Nesta had joined Gwyn on the bed in the far corner in an effort to get Emerie to sit up. The Illyrian female protested, eyes squeezed shut as she cursed the sun for being so bright. Despite your state, you snorted. At least you were better off than Emerie.

“Come on,” Nesta insisted. “You have to at least have a sip of water.”

Emerie shook her head vehemently, then cursed, dizzied. “No. I’m gonna die if I move another inch.”

Gwyn reached down to Emerie’s tray and grabbed the glass of water, bringing it up to her lips. “Here, that way you won’t have to move.” The hungover female protested, but Gwyn tilted the glass up anyways, forcing the water into her mouth. She sputtered for a second, but eventually swallowed some of the cold liquid.

With Gwyn now settled coaxing water into Emerie, Nesta headed towards your bed, smirking. “Morning, sunshine.” She said coolly. Her hair was loose and messy around her shoulders, eyes slightly red from the lack of sleep. But she still looked incredible, despite having drank more than you.

“Not fair.” You complained, rubbing your dry eyes again and scowling at your mate. “I drank half as much as you and you seem perfectly fine.”

Nesta plopped down beside you, shrugging. “Perk of drinking myself half to death for a few months, I guess.” She joked, then motioned to your bacon. “Are you going to eat that?”

“Go for it.” You shook your head. “I can’t imagine eating anything right now.”

A wider smirk came over Nesta’s face as she popped the bacon into her mouth, blue-grey eyes going up and down your body. “I can.”

You blushed, smacking her with your pillow. “What has gotten into you?” You hissed playfully so that Gwyn and Emerie wouldn’t hear. Your body had responded to her words instantly, heating up even more and making you squirm.

She shrugged, taking the second piece of bacon off your plate as well. “I’m just glad I can finally show appreciation for my mate without worrying about someone hacking my head off for it.”

“Fair enough.”

The four of you picked away at your breakfasts in silence, much to you and Emerie’s relief. The tonic began to work after twenty minutes, your headache slowly easing up and the fog around your brain clearing. Eventually, Eris and Azriel came through the doors, stifling their laughs at how hungover or sleep deprived you all were. After saying goodbye to your friends, Emerie grumbled something about the likelihood of throwing up all over Azriel as she took his hand, preparing to winnow. Gwyn’s cheeks flushed slightly as she took Azriel’s other hand, the spymaster’s shadows curling around her slender wrist. You raised an eyebrow at her, but she blushed harder and refused to meet your gaze.

After Azriel, Gwyn, and Emerie left, Nesta left for the bathing chambers to freshen up while you flopped back down into the bed, pulling the sheets over your head. “I’m staying here all day,” You declared. “Nobody wake me.”

You heard Eris chuckle, feeling the bed shift as he sat down beside you. He yanked the sheets down, and you whined in protest. “Eris!” You cried out. “Please, I’m so hungover. I just want to rot in this bed all day.”

“Too bad,” Eris said with a delighted grin on his face. “Because I have another surprise for you.”

You groaned, turning onto your stomach and burying your face into the pillow. “I cannot handle another surprise right now.”

“Trust me. You’ll want to see this. Now get out of bed.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish. Now get up.”

When you didn’t move, strong hands grabbed your waist, pulling you into the air with surprising strength and flinging you over the High Lord’s shoulder. You yelped, the blood rushing to your head as Eris gripped the back of your thighs, holding you steady as he walked.

“Put. Me. Down. Right. Now.” You hissed through gritted teeth, stomach churning as the world swayed around you.

“Absolutely not.” Eris quipped, squeezing your legs once and he strode down the hallway. “Besides, you’re too hungover to use any of those sneaky moves the shadowsinger taught you. So suck it up, do not vomit on me, and thank me later for dragging you out of bed.”

You groaned as Eris carried you up a winding staircase with ease, your upper body swaying across his back. “Where are you even taking me?” You asked, defeated.

“Your surprise is out on the private balcony.”

“What is the surprise?”

Eris snorted. “Mother above, you and Nesta are the worst when it comes to surprises, you know that? Nosy creatures.”

“You could have at least given me time to prepare.” You grumbled, realising you were still in your pyjamas.

“So you’d rather I have told you I had a surprise in advance and then let you stew over it for a whole day, leaving you in limbo before finally revealing it?”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he had a point. You didn’t answer, and Eris laughed victoriously. “Thought so.” He said smugly.

Finally, after climbing up a mountain’s worth of staircases, Eris finally set you down. You wobbled, legs unsteady and clinging to the High Lord for balance as you adjusted to being upright again. A large wooden door stood in front of you, elegant whirling carvings along the edges. You shivered at the bone chilling cold of the stairwell, and Eris was quick to drape his warm cloak over your shoulders.

“Thanks.” You said before shooting him a glare. “But if you throw me over your shoulder like that again, I will nail your balls to the wall.”

Pure predatory smirk overcame Eris’s face as he met your gaze evenly. “Oh, please. We both know you enjoyed being tossed around.”

Your cheeks burned, unable to deny that his words rang partially true. You slapped his arm, and hissed at him, “This surprise better be worth it.”

“Oh, I know it is. Once again, feel free to use your spare time to brainstorm all the ways you can thank me later.” Eris simply winked, turning the knob and pushing the door open. You squinted, eyes taking a second to adjust to the bright morning sunlight that glared at you.

Stepping through the doorway onto the breezy balcony, your eyes began to focus. A tall, male figure stood a few feet away, the rays of the sun shining behind him and casting him in an otherworldly glow. Strands of red hair blew in the breeze, the light reflecting off of a familiar golden eye.

“Lucien…” Your voice was barely above a whisper as tears began to pool in your eyes at the sight of your friend coming into view. His golden skin shone in the light of Autumn, his red hair half tied back, revealing his chiselled, handsome face. It was filled with a mix of emotions as he stared back at you – awe, happiness, regret, all at once.

“Hey there, (Y/N).” Lucien said softly, lips pulling up in a smile.

All nausea and dizziness vanished as you surged forward, running towards your old friend. Your heart raced with excitement as you leapt into his outstretched arms, burying your face in his shoulder. There was no hope at stopping the sobs that choked up your throat, so you let them out. Lucien’s strong arms wrapped around you, holding you up as you clung onto his tall form.

Time was askew as you hugged him. It could have been hours or seconds for all you knew. You hadn’t seen Lucien since those few minutes after you escaped Rhys’s prison, all those weeks ago.

Eventually, Lucien gently set you down. You turned around to ask Eris how he had found and gotten his brother here so quickly, but your mate had slipped away, leaving you alone with Lucien. When you turned back to your friend, his remaining eye simmered with emotion. “I’ve missed you.” He said, squeezing your hands in his own.

“I’ve missed you, too.” You said through tears. “I’m so sorry, Lucien.”

He frowned. “What do you possibly have to be sorry for?”

“For everything,” You gulped. “For everything you’ve been through, for how you’ve been treated. For not trying to find you sooner–”

Lucien interrupted you sternly. “No. Do not say that. None of this is your fault. You’re safe, that’s all that matters. I’m sorry, too.”

“What do you possibly have to be sorry for?” You threw his words back at him playfully, despite the sadness still lacing your voice.

Lucien squeezed your hands again, regret crossing his kind face. “For not fighting harder for you.”

Your heart cracked a bit at his broken voice. Lucien was the best male you had ever known, always putting others above himself no matter the personal cost. “You showed up with armies from the Spring Court to get me back. I’d hardly call that not fighting for me.”

“I meant before that. Feyre and Rhys told me that you were enjoying Velaris and your new missions as a spy, which was why you hadn’t come to visit me. They even went so far as to bring me a scarf claiming it was from you. I simply believed them, and didn’t question it. It wasn’t until Azriel found me and told me the truth about your situation that I realised what was going on.”

“Lucien–” You tried to speak, to reassure him that he was not at fault here, but your friend cut you off sharply.

“No, it is not okay.” He said sternly. “I should have known better. I had never trusted Rhysand, but decided to take his word for it anyways. I was living in the human lands minding my own business while you were being tortured by that scumbag. And I will carry that guilt with me for the rest of my life. I failed you, (Y/N). And I am deeply sorry.”

You smiled sadly. “Listen to me. You did not lock me up. You did not deceive people. You did not have anything to do with what happened to me. That was Rhys and Feyre. They failed me, not you. And I made it out, that’s all that matters. You risked your life going back to Tamlin and raising the armies for me. If you really wish to seek penance for your guilt, consider that your debt paid.”

Lucien sighed, shaking his head. “I just can’t believe they put you through that.”

“I can.” You snorted, leading him over to the soft couch by the marble railing, overlooking the vast forest below.

“With Rhys, yes I agree.” Lucien said as he settled down next to you. “But Feyre… the girl I knew who went under the mountain would not have ripped open a court of innocent people for petty reasons. Before Rhys took her away, she gave her own jewels to a poor citizen who did not have enough money to pay the Tithe. It seemed that every time she went away to the Night Court with him, pieces of her slowly chipped away and were replaced with new ones that Rhys created. She was so young, so vulnerable, and now she’s completely under his spell. The fact she could let any of this happen to you disgusts me, and I am ashamed that she manipulated me into believing she was a better friend to me than I ever was to her.”

The autumn breeze soothed your warm face, the fresh air clearing your foggy mind as you drank in the beauty of the view. Lucien was right – the Feyre you had heard about in the stories of Under the Mountain was not the Feyre you had met. As much as you resented her, you couldn’t help but spare her a shred of pity. “She chose her path,” You said steadily. “Just as I have chosen mine.”

Lucien fiddled with the rings on his fingers, playfully elbowing your ribs. “Your path as High Lady and my awful brother’s wife, you mean.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him back. “He’s not so bad.”

Lucien laughed sharply, a beautiful sound you had missed dearly. “Ok, sure. Come talk to me in a few centuries when you’ve had enough of his bullshit and are debating throwing him off a cliff.”

“Eris seems so enamoured with me, I’m sure all I’d have to do would be to tell him to go fling himself off the cliff and he’d happily do so without question.”

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”

The two of you chuckled, just like old times. You adjusted Eris’s cloak, wrapping it tighter around your body. His scent filled your nostrils, filling you with content. “Lucien,” You said hesitantly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” The male replied with confidence.

You took a breath before speaking. “Eris is my mate. He has been extremely good to me throughout all this, but you’ve known him and this court almost your whole life. What am I truly getting into by marrying him?”

Lucien was silent for a moment, as if contemplating his answer. Regardless, you knew nothing he could say would change your mind. You wanted to marry Eris, and you knew he would look out for you. But marriage and the workings of Autumn? it was still unknown territory for you.

“Eris has always been a puzzle,” Lucien said slowly. “For as a long as I can remember, he’s been difficult to figure out. Everything he does is for a reason, and sometimes I can never figure it out. He switches personalities so fast it makes my head spin, and I could never tell what kind of male he truly was because of it. He was an excellent brother when Beron was not around, but the second he entered the room Eris became a different person.

“But it’s different with you. He’s different around you and Nesta, like he’s beginning to thaw. I think it will take a while for him to get used to not having to pretend to be Beron’s prodigy. But with time, he will soften up. Eris knows what he wants and will do anything to get it. He will protect you with unyielding loyalty, even if at times he may seem aloof. There will be times where you grow frustrated with him, and he may shut you out. But from what I’ve seen, I have no doubt that the three of you will be able to work things out. As for this court, give it time. The people can be frosty. Do not show weakness, for they will devour every ounce of exposed flesh like starved vultures. With the right leadership, I do believe it can change. But be patient, and unyielding.”

You mulled over Lucien’s words. He was right – it would be ridiculous to think everything would be smooth sailing from here. Being mates did not mean any complications in your dynamic would be immediately soothed over. It would take a long time for you to recover from and process everything that happened since you were sent to the House of Wind. Just as it would take a long time for Nesta to be comfortable with bathtubs and crackling fire. There would be challenges and disagreements, but at your core you knew it was nothing the three of you couldn’t manage.

“And how do you feel about us all together?” You asked. “Me, Nesta, and Eris, I mean.”

Lucien shrugged. “I see no issue with it. As long as the three of you are happy, that’s all that matters.”

“I wish the rest of this court felt that way.” You sighed. “They didn’t react well.”

He barked out a laugh. “No, I can’t imagine they did.”

You tilted your head back, letting the sun warm your face as you sighed. “So, when did you manage to sneak in here? I assume your banishment is lifted.”

“Yes, it is. Eris brought me here yesterday. I spent the day with my mother. Thank you, by the way, for what you did for her.”

Your heart swelled with happiness. You knew how much Lirilla loved Lucien, how much it pained your friend to be away from his mother for so long. She had a soft spot for him, as he was the least cruel out of all her sons. Every day you thanked the Mother that Lucien had not turned out like Beron.

In the distance, three dragons circled the air, sunning their wings in the rays of sunshine. Their gentle cries rumbled throughout the air like a song carried by the breeze. You snuck a glance at Lucien, whose eyes were fixed on the beasts circling the mountains in the distance. “Eris really did it.” He mumbled as Athariel spun upwards and around Zorzimril.

You whipped your head around. “You KNEW he had dragons?”

Lucien was awestruck as he continued observing the creatures. “Technically, yes. But I never believed him. When I was younger, Eris showed me 3 unusual rocks, claiming that they were dragon eggs. We played with them for hours, and I helped him build a nest to keep them warm. He swore me to secrecy, saying it was our own little game. He told me one day the eggs would hatch, and would grow into three big dragons. Then he, myself, and my mother could each climb on one and fly away from everything.” Lucien’s voice grew sombre, his eye darkening as he continued. “Then one day we found the rocks broken, and Eris told me the dragons had flown away after hatching. I was devastated, I had wanted to see one so badly. But he said they were gone, and I was to never breathe a word about them to anyone. I guess the slippery prick found them and raised them in secret on his own.”

“How did Eris keep dragons a secret from everyone?”

“Keeping secrets is one of his many talents. As I am sure you know very well since he hid the fact he knew that he was your mate.”

You snorted at the jibe, rolling your eyes. “Wow, so you really know everything then, don’t you?”

Lucien laughed, stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. The image reminded you of a cat sunning itself in the window. “Unfortunately, yes.” He said. “Eris and my mother filled me in. Among other things.”

You frowned. “Among other things? What does that mean?”

Lucien’s expression was grave, and he turned to face you. His golden eye gleamed in the sunlight but was equally intense as his regular eye as he stared you down. “Promise me that what I’m about to say, you keep to yourself, Eris, my mother, and Nesta.” He said seriously.

Confused, you nodded. Lucien took a deep breath before continuing. “Beron was not my father, apparently.”

You blinked in surprise, but bit your tongue. Lucien had always looked slightly different than his brothers, but you had never really thought twice about it. “My mother had an affair with Helion of the Day Court,” Lucien admitted, his voice hollow as if he didn’t even believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. “I’m his son, not Beron’s.”

Your jaw was slack. “Wow…” You muttered. “Does Helion know?”

Lucien shook his head. “No. But my mother has always been in love with him. It will take her a while to adjust to a reality without Beron hovering over her shoulder, to allow herself to love him openly. If that is what she desires, of course.”

“And what about you?” You asked your friend. “What do you want from all this? I mean… how does it feel?”

Lucien’s expression was distant, as if his mind was elsewhere. It wasn’t hard to tell by the way his jaw tensed that he was thinking of his childhood with his father, remembering every cruel word and ruthless fist he endured. How maybe if things had been different, he could have been spared Beron’s suffering and been raised by Helion – a father who did not delight in torturing his sons. Lucien had a rough life, one that did not seem to be getting any easier. From being banished from Autumn Court to living in a state of uneasy limbo with his mate who seemingly wanted nothing to do with him, Lucien’s life was never truly stable. He was always bouncing from one place to another, never truly fitting in.

You hoped that with his banishment lifted, Lucien would choose to come back to Autumn. After months of being separated from your best friend, you wanted nothing more than to have him back by your side.

“I’m not quite sure,” Lucien finally answered. “On the one hand, I am glad I am not actually Beron’s son. But Helion being my father changes very little. I was raised by Beron, and for better or for worse I am the way I am because I was a part of his family. In my blood, I am Autumn Court and always will be.”

“But Helion has no other children,” You pointed out carefully. “Which technically makes you the heir to the Day Court, whether you like it or not.”

He shook his head. “It is a power and title I do not want. I’ve never desired to be a Lord of anything, especially not one of an entire court.”

You smiled softly, leaning your head into his shoulder and sighing contently. “I know. That’s why you’re such a good male.”

Lucien wrapped his arm around your shoulder and squeezed you closer to him. “I will let my mother choose what to do about Helion.” He continued. “She may well want to forget the whole thing and leave the past behind. If that is her wish, I am content to go along with it. If she wants to rekindle a relationship with him, then she may tell him that I am his son, and we would go from there. Besides, not all of us are High Lord power hungry like you.”

You laughed, squeezing your eyes shut. “You’re going to make fun of me for becoming High Lady of your court for as long as we live, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” Lucien purred. “Someone has to keep you humble so that power doesn’t get to that pretty head of yours.”

“Careful,” You teased, grinning. “Or I’ll force you to scribe notes during all the council meetings for a decade.”

“Never mind, reinstate my banishment and bounty, please. I’d prefer that over being your note boy for your and your mates’ stuffy meetings.”

Your laughter echoed across the wind, just as Zorzimril let out a playful screech in the distance. For a few minutes, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, until your curiosity got the better of you, and you asked, “So… speaking of mates, has anything happened with Elain?”

The male sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand. You felt a muscle in his neck twitch at the mention of her name, an instinctual reaction like the mere mention of her rang a bell inside him. “No,” He said stiffly. “And frankly, at this point I wish that she would just sever the bond if she wanted nothing to do with me. It’s agonising. And Feyre and Rhys keep her cloistered away, knowing it would be too hard for me to try and visit her after everything that’s happened. I want Elain to be happy, even if it’s not with me, but I truly don’t think she would be happy in the Night Court. I just… I just want her out of there. To give her a chance to choose her own life.”

“From what I’ve seen, she seems content to let her sister choose her life for her.” You kept your words delicate, not wanting to offend Lucien. As much as he was your friend, he was still a mated male – and now you understood that protectiveness he likely felt.

“I think the Archeron sisters need to be apart from each other.” Lucien said, stiffening but not snarling at your comment. “They’ve all been through a lot, and none of us will ever truly understand the history they have because we did not live it. Nesta needs this freedom here in Autumn to build a life for herself after everything was taken away from her. Feyre, for all her faults, needed to be loved in a way that was different from how her sisters loved her, and now she seems to have that. Elain… Elain has been coddled by both of them, from what I’ve heard. She needs to stand on her own two feet and figure out what she wants and how she can navigate this new life by herself.”

You picked at one of the threads of the cushion. “And you want to help Elain do that? Even if it means she severs the bond?”

He nodded. “Yes. I will not lie and say I would not be upset if she chose to do so, but she deserves the choice. We all do. Besides, isn’t Nesta planning on severing her bond with Cassian?”

“We don’t think there’s even a bond.” You admitted, stomach fluttering with nerves at the mention of Cassian’s name. The three of you still hadn’t figured out how you’d deal with that. “It’s a touchy subject. But we know he isn’t her mate.”

Lucien’s brows furrowed. “But Rhys said Cassian was her mate.”

“And you’re going to suddenly start taking his word now?”

“Point taken.” He corrected himself.

“Something about the whole situation is just weird.” You muttered. “Maybe a link between them is some kind of punishment from the Cauldron. Azriel is investigating it secretly.”

Your friend raised an eyebrow. “He’s still in the Night Court? After everything he did to go against Rhys?”

“Yup. I think Rhys knows he’s too valuable to lose at the end of the day, which is why his head isn’t on the chopping block. Azriel is good at playing both sides I guess.”

That comfortable silence fell over you for another few minutes as you happily existed in each other’s company. You huddled into Lucien’s warmth, begrudgingly knowing Eris was right and this had been worth getting violently dragged out of bed.

Later, you would think of ways to thank him.

An idea formed in your head as you thought of your mate. You propped yourself up, turning to face your friend. “Lucien?” You asked hesitantly.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you to do something for me?”

“Sure.”

You took a deep breath, wringing your hands together before blurting out, “Would you walk me down the aisle at the wedding?”

Lucien blinked in surprise, and then a grin spread across his face. “Really?”

You smiled. “Yes. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have giving me away.”

“Giving you away? I thought you wanted to smash all archaic male-oriented traditions in this court.”

“Don’t be an ass.” You smacked his arm playfully. “I do. But… I won’t have any of my family at the wedding like I always imagined as a child, and you’re the next closest thing. I just want you by my side, that’s all.”

Lucien reached forward, wrapping his big arms around you in an embrace. “Of course I will.” He muttered, squeezing you tight. “Thank you for allowing me the honour.”

The dragons screeched happily in the distance, reflecting the content you felt in your chest. So you inhaled your friend’s familiar scent mixed with the fresh autumn air. Everything you had done to get to this point was all worth it.

*********************

You all but skipped down the hallway towards Eris’s office in the private library. After hours of talking, Lucien had left to go on a ride through the forest with Lirilla. You had briefly bathed and changed, freshening up to remove the lingering mustiness from your body after the sleepover and alcohol.

You felt ten times lighter as you swung open the door with a force so strong the expensive knob bounded off the wall. Eris’s head snapped up from where he sat in a plush armchair, a mountain of papers in his hand. He was dressed in a billowy white shirt, the laces at the neckline undone and ever-so-slightly pushed open, revealing part of his toned chest. Red hair was tied back loosely behind his neck, and he raised an eyebrow. “Where’s the fire?” He asked dryly.

You simply bounded across the room in three steps and flung yourself into Eris’s arms, crawling into his lap and pressing your lips against his. His eyebrows shot up and he let out a muffled noise of surprise, but brought his hands up to your hips and pulled you closer. He tasted like cinnamon and coffee, melting in your mouth as you kissed him fiercely.

Your skin tingled at the sensation of his hands on your hips as they slowly crept downwards, giving your backside a firm squeeze. The mating bond was practically purring in your chest at the contact, urging you to give into your desires. But you reigned yourself in, finally pulling your lips away from Eris’s after your lungs begged for air.

The High Lord smirked up at you, face flushed from your kiss. “I take it you liked your surprise?” His hands stayed on your backside, gently gliding up your hips then back down.

You nodded, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him. “You’re amazing. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He chuckled, letting his lips drag over the shell of your ear as he spoke. “You’re very welcome, my dear.”

You pulled away, tangling your hands in Eris’s hair, tugging on the end of the locks right by his scalp. The High Lord tilted his chin back and let out a breath, eyelids fluttering as he grinned. You leaned down and pressed your lips to the column of his newly exposed throat. Underneath you, Eris shuddered as you grazed your teeth up his warm, pale skin before pressing a kiss just below his jaw. “What exactly do you think you’re doing, little fox?” He asked, but his voice was strained, hands gripping your hips tightly.

“Thanking you.” You purred, moving your head to the other side of his neck and repeating your actions.

Eris swallowed thickly, but chuckled. “Oh, sweet thing. Thanking me properly will have to wait until after the wedding.”

You leaned back, sitting up and frowning with confusion. Your mate’s subtle rejection stung slightly. “Seriously? I didn’t peg you for the wait until after marriage type.”

“I’m not,” He corrected, sliding his hands up from your hips and onto your lower back, pulling you closer to him once again. “Believe me, I want nothing more than to take you against this very desk and bury myself between your thighs until time loses all meaning. But I have plans for how I want to fuck you, the both of you. And it involves waiting a little longer. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded, but stuck out your bottom lip ever so slightly. Eris smacked your rear sternly. “Don’t pout,” He scolded. “Brats don’t get nice things. And you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“When I feel like it.” You shrugged playfully. Eris’s grin widened like a cat that had just eaten the canary.

“Oh, I am going to have so much fun with you.” His voice was a slick purr, heating up your skin as if his very own fire was running through your veins. Eris pressed a kiss to your cheek, then tapped your hip. “Now, I hate to brush you off like this, but as you can see I have a mountain of paperwork to get through before the wedding to make sure everything is in order. Nesta needs your help in the main hall, she’s all alone with those wedding planners and threatened to shave my head if I don’t send you to her the second you’re done with Lucien.”

You crawled off his lap, rolling your eyes playfully. “Aw, poor High Lord has paperwork.” You said mockingly. “You poor pampered thing.”

Eris shot you a glare. “Careful, little fox. Soon enough you’ll have your own mountain of paperwork as High Lady. That is, if you actually want to help me run this court. Unless you’d rather be like little Archeron over in the Night Court and be just a pretty face.”

You crossed your arms defiantly, knowing he was right. “Fine.” You turned on your heel to exit the study, cringing slightly as you noticed the chip in the wall from where you flung the door open.

“Little fox?” Eris called out.

You turned to face him at the door frame. “Yes?”

Eris’s smirk was devilish as he said coolly, “Do not seek out Nesta to satisfy your desires. She and I have already discussed the matter and are on the same page, so she will say the same thing I have told you, that you have to wait until after the wedding. And don’t you dare try to satisfy your urges on your own. If you do, I will know.”

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autumnshighlady · 2 months

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 25)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Eris drops the news to his court that he intends to wed you both, and he also has a surprise in store for you

warnings: heavy feyre slander, brief violence, sexual implications towards the end, eris being sexy af

word count: 6.7k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: ok i think this is one of my favourite chapter's i've written haha. enjoy!

read on ao3

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You stood nervously beside Eris’s throne, sweating nervously beneath the heavy fabric of your regal dress. The servants had spent two hours getting you ready, leaving no hair out of place as they dressed you in the most elaborate gown you had ever worn. It was a deep red fabric with off-the-shoulder sleeves that accentuated your collarbones. There was a forest-green underskirt that peeled through the bottom of the dress, with carefully embroidered leaves in the same colour wrapping around your hips and waist before descending the front of the gown. Across your neck was a thick golden necklace with a large ruby pendant that glittered in the sunlight creeping through the windows. Your hair was braided just like Nesta’s coronet, with red and orange leaves woven into the strands. A golden circlet rested upon your forehead with a single amber teardrop-shaped gem in the middle.

The servants had informed you that Eris himself had hand picked these items for you, a shy smile on their faces as they delivered the news. It made you happy to see them smile, if only for a second. It was a sign of the shadow of Beron’s cruelty slowly fading away.

Before he departed your room last night, Eris had informed you with a smirk that today and noon he would make the announcement of the engagements. Your heart had fluttered with excitement and nerves, something that had persisted even now. You tried to remain poised, to not let the growing crowd sense your tension. They stood in before you like a pack of wolves, beady eyes glaring up at you, Nesta, and Eris. While you heard no muttering of discontent, their displeasure was coming off in waves.

You knew they wouldn’t be happy about the announcement. Most males were already pissed that Eris was High Lord now – the fact he would not only be taking two wives, who were also married to each other, but would be making them High Ladies would make steam come out of their ears. Eris had set up a ward around the throne dias, just in case.

The towering wall behind the throne that had previously been adorned with paintings and carvings of Beron and his forefathers had been torn down on the first day. Instead of being rebuilt, Eris had opted to leave it open, using a ward to shield the room from the unpleasant aspects of the outside elements, but still managed to let the warm sunlight and fresh autumn breeze into the room. It brightened the once dark space, bringing new life into the court. The sun was warm on your shoulders, glowing in the distance behind you and casting you, Nesta, and Eris in a sheen of golden light. The mountains could be seen in the distance past the large rocky cliff behind where the throne room wall once stood. To the crowd below, the scenery in behind paired with the positioning of the sun made the three of you look like the very essence of autumn.

You snuck a glance at Nesta at the same time she turned her head towards yours. Leaves were braided into her hair as well, an identical circlet framing her forehead. She had been fitted in a dark red gown with sparkle detailing going from the neckline that covered her throat all the way down from where the fitted waist gave way into flowing skirts. The sleeves were billowy, gathered at the wrists and hanging loosely on her arms. You wanted to stare at her all day long, admiring the regal dress on her tall frame. After a subtle wink from Nesta, you forced yourself to stare back at the crowd.

Fae of all ages were gathered in the throne room. Soldiers, courtiers, tradesmen, much to the visible disappointment of the nobles, who seemed disgusted to be in the same room as those they deemed below them. But they did not grumble, lest they meet the wrath of their new High Lord. It broke your heart to see so many females beside their husbands, heads bowed submissively as if they were no more than an accessory. They looked exactly how Lirilla had looked beside Beron – a shell of whatever their former self was.

Eris’s mother was not in the throne room, something which brought a surprising wave of sadness over you. You did not know how much Eris had told his mother about the announcement he was about to make, if anything. But it was safe to assume he wanted to keep her as far away from this assembly as possible, lest outrage break out and put her in harm’s way.

Once what you assumed to be the last of the crowd had assembled, Eris lifted his chin, letting a wave of power cascade across the room. Instantly, any shuffling or whispering had ceased, and the assembly before you focused their attention on the High Lord. You stared evenly at the crowd, unflinching as several judgemental eyes flickered between you and Nesta. You would not let them see your nervousness.

“I assume you are all wondering why I called you here on such short notice.” Eris’s voice rang out clear and authoritative, echoing in the large chamber of the throne room. “As you all know, my recently departed father wished for myself and the lady Nesta Archeron to be wed. I intend to honour that wish.”

There were a few nods from the crowd, likely Beron’s supporters happy that Eris was fulfilling his father’s wishes for the time being. But there were also looks of disapproval, males casting seething glances at Nesta that made you want to rip their eyes from their sockets. It wasn’t hard to guess from the younger females beside them that they had hoped Eris would be wed to one of their noble daughters, rather than a female from another court.

To his credit, Eris did not even acknowledge them as he continued. “He also wished for the lady (Y/N) to marry my brother Malgorm. Now that he is dead, such a marriage is no longer possible.”

You cringed as several males in the audience perked up, their predatory gazes dragging over towards you as they stared you down hungrily like dogs salivating over a fresh piece of meat. Eris had been right – an unwed female truly did attract the worst males in his court. One male, a shrivelled old noble with a squashed looking face turned and whispered something to the male beside him, presumably his son. They both stared at you with sick glee on their faces as the older male cleared his throat.

But Eris turned sharply towards the noise, cutting the male off before any scheming words could leave his lips. “If you’re about to propose a foolish idea of marrying your wretched son to Lady (Y/N) in my brother’s stead, Lord Cergon, I suggest you hold your tongue before I have it removed.”

The male’s face twisted with rage, and he spoke boldly. “I knew your father since he was a child, boy.” He spat at Eris. “His Grace would have desired this union if his son could not fulfil it.”

Eris smirked, a tendril of angry red flame curling around the male’s throat. His eyes went wide, and he went utterly still as the fire licked his shrivelled skin. “You dare speak on behalf of my father?” Eris’s voice was cold as ice, cutting through the sunlit warmth of the room as the fire slowly cut off the old male’s airway. “You have no authority here, Lord Cergon. The only reason you even hold your title as Lord is because my father wanted you by his side for reasons that escape me. But I am not my father, and I have no use for you anymore. I hereby strip you of your land and titles, and banish you and your son from this court. All of your assets will be reallocated to the Crown to be redistributed as I see fit. If either of you step foot across this border, I will burn you alive.”

“My Lord…” The male sputtered with his choking breath. “You can’t…”

“I can.” Eris said coolly. “And I will. Question me again, call me ‘boy’ again, and you will leave this room without your head. That goes for everyone here. Those who consider themselves loyal only to my father are urged to swear to me your undying fidelity, or you will meet the same fate as Cergon. My two brothers have already done so, and will serve me just as they served our father.”

Eris nodded at two redheads at the front of the crowd. They were unmistakably Vanserras, one with a short cropped haircut and the other with longer wavy hair. They did not sneer or grimace as expected, but instead bowed their heads. You suspected Eris had already exchanged strong words with them to ensure they would not be a threat.

As a set of guards hauled the sputtering old male and his son away, the crowd shifted nervously. Some of the males that had stared defiantly in protest while others bowed their heads. With a satisfied smirk, Eris leaned back in his throne and continued. “Now that we have established that, let us get back to the initial purpose of this meeting before more of my time is wasted by pathetic squabbling. With the death of my brother, Lady (Y/N) is without a husband. And the only worthy remaining Vanserra male is me.”

You watched as confusion flickered in, the eyes of the crowd stomach churning as you braced yourself for Eris to drop the bomb.

“To remedy the situation, I intend to take Lady (Y/N) as my wife, alongside Lady Nesta. They are also to be wed to each other, a symbol of our strong union. They are to take their rightful places beside me as my equals, my wives, and your High Ladies.”

The room erupted into a plague of angry shouts and protests, primarily from the males but also from a few of the noble females. You stood tall, letting their words and insults bounce off you like flies on the window. Amidst the chaos, you could make out several screams of ‘whore’ and ‘improper’, all directed at you and Nesta. But you did not cower, willing your gaze to that icy steel that Nesta was currently doing and making sure to stare down each and every one who shouted angrily.

You expected Eris to send an angry wave of fire throughout the room, smiting those shouting angrily towards the dias into piles of ash. When he didn’t, you were confused. While you knew Eris wanted to slowly move away from the image he had cultivated over the years as his father’s perfect son, you did not expect him to simply sit there silently, smirking.

Your eyes flickered back towards him slightly, and he simply lifted one finger from the arm of his throne in response.

Just wait. It seemed to say.

So you sucked in a breath, turning your gaze back to the angry crowd, still shouting. And then you heard it. Felt it. Three differing but all low and menacing growls, sending a vibration through your very bones. They were deep and otherworldly, and accompanied by a tremble of the ground and the echo of mighty footsteps.

The crowd’s angry yelling began to die off at the noise. They, too, seemingly felt the growl vibrating within them as they shuffled uneasily. Unease began to stir in the air and you smiled as the footsteps grew closer. The chandelier in the middle of the throne room swayed, the candles flickering despite the lack of breeze.

From the rocky cliffside, the three dragons appeared. Morgoth’s bulking form crawled menacingly over the rocks towards the open spot in the wall behind the throne dias. Athariel’s silver form slithered beside him, while Zorzimril’s gold scales shone in the sunlight as she mirrored the other beast. Their eyes were glowing, puffs of smoke curling around their lips that were drawn back in fierce snarls. All three dragons stalked closer, their long necks able to wind their way into the throne room as if the wards weren’t even there.

The crowd had stopped shouting entirely, various exclamations of fear replacing the angry protests. They had shuffled backwards, wide eyed as the dragons crept menacingly into the castle. You could hear a few males frantically trying to get to the door, only to be stopped by Eris’s guards.

The room now reeked with fear.

You felt Zorzimril’s hot breath on your back, her soft growling bringing you comfort rather than fear. The golden dragon loomed her head over you protectively, daring someone to come forward and challenge you. Morgoth did the same with Eris, and Athariel with Nesta, each standing protectively over their rider and baring their teeth. You straightened your spine, standing proudly with your dragon at your back, smirking as the crowd stared up in fear.

“What an abhorrent reaction from you all,” Eris finally spoke, his voice echoing with Morgoth’s low rumbling growl. “I must say I am disappointed. But I care not if you all approve. Because the three of us will be wed whether you like it or not, and you will have your High Ladies to answer to. They are powerful, fearless, and unlike me, merciful. Anyone who dares to disrespect this union or anyone in it will be fed to our dragons. This will be your only warning.”

Malgorm roared, the force of it smiting all the candles in the room and causing the crowd to shrink back further, so much so that a few were pressed up against the walls at the back.

“This is madness!” Came an angry shout from the front of the crowd. “Where is your respect for tradition?”

The crowd parted as a red-faced male stormed through. His dark brown hair was braided back tightly, yellow eyes gleaming with hate as he shamelessly challenged the High Lord. He wore elaborate armour – a noble, one whose uniform had clearly never seen battle.

“Frankly, I have none, Lord Ashworthe.” Eris said dryly. “Things will change greatly around here. I strongly urge anyone clinging on to the old ways to let go of the past and brace themselves for a new future.”

“You will do no such thing.” The male said, fists curled at his sides.

Eris raised an eyebrow, cocking his head. “I won’t, will I?” His tone was mocking, causing Lord Ashworthe to seeth even more. “And how do you think you can stop me, exactly? I am your High Lord, Ashworthe. You will do as I command and you will do so without complaint.”

“We will not stand for it.”

“Who exactly is ‘we’? I don’t exactly see your supporters flocking to your side.”

Lord Ashworthe whipped around, noticing that everyone had backed as far away from him as possible. He motioned for some of the males around him to join, but they shook their heads and looked away, causing Eris to chuckle. Furious, the male turned back around and spat at Eris. “It is one thing to marry a female with no ties to this court. To take a second wife who is also without any ties to this land is spitting in the faces of those of us who have been here for generations, offering you potential brides of the noblest of houses. Not to mention the fact that it is a vile insult to let your two brides be wed to each other as well. I will recognize no High Lady in this court.”

Eris did not say anything for a moment. His amber eyes glowed with anger as he sat, utterly still as Lord Ashworthe stared arrogantly up at him. The entire room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for something to happen.

The High Lord simply waved his hand, and two guards grabbed the male by each arm, dragging up towards the foot of the dias. Lord Ashworthe yelled and writhed in protest, but was no match for the strong guards.

Morgoth’s growl deepened as Eris spoke, feeling his master’s rage. “Yes, Lord Ashworthe, I spit in your face with this action.” He said angrily. “I spit in the face of any male like you who sells his daughters to the pleasure houses because he wants a son. I spit in the face of all you cowards who beat your wives bloody simply because my father and his fathers before him set the precedent that it was ok to do so. I spit in the face of everyone who dares judge me for letting me and my mates’s hearts be free and pursue happiness outside the confines of your prejudices.”

An audible gasp sounded from the crowd at Eris’s reveal. Shocked looks spread between the audience, the word ‘mates’ being murmured like a hushed prayer.

“Your mates?” Ashworthe gasped, eyes wide and reflecting the surprise of the crowd behind him. “How is that possible…”

“It is.” Eris said coldly.

The Lord began to tremble. “I apologise, your Grace. If I had known–”

“Save your whinging.” Eris cut him off sharply. “It doesn’t matter if you knew they were my mates. The fact they are going to be my wives and your High Ladies should be enough to keep your mouth shut. And since you can’t even respect that, you serve no purpose being in this court.”

The male blanched. “You’re going to banish me, too? You cannot be serious.”

The smile that spread across Eris’s face was pure cunning as he said evenly, “No, I am not.”

Morgoth snarled, snaking his head further into the chamber and opening his jaw to hiss, revealing more of his razor sharp fangs. You felt Zorzimril’s steady presence behind you, letting out growls every so often at the crowd. The guard threw the snivelling Lord on the steps and backed off, leaving a respectable ten metres between him and the rest of the crowd.

“You cannot execute me!” Ashworthe snarled, despite the tremble in his body as Morgoth loomed over him. “I have served this court for 500 years. If you’re going to throw that away for the sake of your whores, then you are not worthy of the crown you wear.”

Eris fumed, his fingers gripping the throne’s arms so hard you thought they may shatter beneath his grip. A flaming gag appeared around Ashworthe’s face, and he screamed as the fire burned his skin. “You will never speak about my mates in such a tone ever again.” He snarled viciously, raw anger and possession lacing his voice. “Let this be another lesson to all of you. I meant what I said, that anyone who dares disrespect Nesta or (Y/N) will be fed to our dragons. You are a pathetic waste of life, Lord Ashworthe. And I feel no shame in making an example of you.”

Before the male could even protest, Morgoth let out a mighty roar, drawing his head back and flaring his wings. You watched in shock as flame shot out of the dragons’ mouth, going directly down onto Lord Ashworthe. He screamed as the flames engulfed him, slowly melting him away but not fast enough to grant him a quick death.

The crowd screamed as Morgoth reached down and clamped his jaws around the flaming body, a sick crunching sound echoing throughout the space as he ate the Lord in one bite.

Zorzimril and Athariel let out mighty roars, as if cheering the black dragon on for his display. You glanced at Nesta, who was looking down with satisfaction at the ashy spot where the arrogant lord once stood. You never pegged yourself, or Nesta, for the blood thirsty type, but you’d be lying if you said the male didn’t deserve it. And you couldn’t help how your body warmed at Eris’s protectiveness.

The audience watched in muted horror as Eris patted Morgoth on the neck, murmuring something to him as the dragon retreated to his initial position, looming menacingly over the High Lord and daring others to step forth and become his next meal.

“Master Greywell.” Eris called out casually, as if nothing had happened. A few seconds later, an old male with thick black robes stepped forward on unsteady legs, eyes uncertain. “You are to personally oversee the construction of two additional thrones, right next to this one.” He spoke more gently to the old male. “I trust you will make me proud as you have done so frequently in the past.”

Master Greywell bowed low, letting out a breath. “Of course, your Grace. I will see to it immediately.”

Eris nodded, then turned his attention to the rest of the crowd and stood up. He reached out and grabbed your hand with his right, and Nesta’s with his left. You felt him squeeze gently, a reassuring promise that everything would be ok. Your heart swelled with joy at the simple public display, a gesture that proved Eris was not ashamed of the unique situation. That he would proudly let everyone know exactly who belonged to him, and who he belonged to.

“This assembly has concluded.” Eris spoke firmly at the terrified crowd. “Heed my warnings and proceed with your day. I must prepare for the grandest wedding this court has ever seen. Dismissed.”

The second the last word left his lips, the crowd was rushing to the door, eager to get away from the terrifying High Lord and dragons. Your body was jolted forward as a golden head leaned down to nuzzle you, letting out a low purr. You chuckled, stroking Zorzimril’s soft scales before letting Eris lead you and Nesta down the steps.

“Come.” He said softly. “I have a surprise for both of you.”

*********************

“Eris, for the last time, just tell us–” Nesta’s protest was cut off as the High Lord dragged the two of you down the hallway in the direction of the private library.

“You’re an incessant female, you know that, right?” Eris snorted, interrupting her. “If I tell you, it ruins the purpose of the surprise.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and huffed, but didn’t pester him again. Eris had refused to tell either of you what the surprise was, shutting you down when you asked for a small hint. But the High Lord bore a look of glee on his face that he was unable to hide, which made you almost nervous. Several people had tried to stop Eris as he hurried you and Nesta through the winding hallways, demanding his attention on one matter or another. But he had brushed them off, to your surprise. Clearly, he was in too much of a hurry to spare his attention to others. You had never seen Eris so giddy.

As you finally came to the arching doors of the library, Eris stopped and faced you and Nesta. “When I open these doors and show you your surprise, don’t worry – you can figure out ways to tell me how I’m the best mate ever later on.” He said, winking playfully.

Nesta crossed her arms, eyebrows furrowing. “You know we’ve both been in the library, right?”

Eris smirked. “I know, smartass. The library has little to do with the surprise. I just wanted a quiet place for this, where few could hear you.”

You raised an eyebrow, a slight pink blush coming across your cheeks at Eris’s words. He noticed instantly, rolling his eyes.

“Get your dirty mind out of the gutter, (Y/N).” Eris quipped, putting a hand on the knob of the door. “While I know I could positively rock your world and am dying to do so, I think this is something you’ll appreciate more.”

Before you could come up with a response, Eris turned the handle and pushed open the heavy wooden doors. The scent of old books, hot wax, and parchment hit you immediately as the grand library was exposed. Spiralling wooden staircases stretched up and around the mighty shelves, designed to look as if they had carved into the trunks of mighty ancient trees. But it was not the books your eyes landed on, nor the cosy setting of plushy furniture over in the reading nook.

You let out a squeal as your eyes landed on the figures at the table in the centre of the room – two females, one with large wings and one with bright teal eyes. “Gwyn? Emerie?” You exclaimed, frozen in shock. Beside you, Nesta’s hand covered her mouth, which had dropped open in equal surprise.

It took only a split second for the Valkyrie’s to leap off the table and run towards you and Nesta. Gwyn beelined for you, happy tears lining those bright eyes as she launched herself into your outstretched arms. You began crying as well, clinging onto the slender female as if you couldn’t believe she was really here. Emerie had done the same with Nesta, and the two held each other tightly.

“Oh my god, Gwyn…” You breathed heavily through your tears. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“We missed you too.” Gwyn replied, her soft voice muffled slightly as she had buried her face into your hair. “Gods, it’s been tough without you.”

“You’re here…” You muttered with shock. “You left the House of Wind? And came all this way–”

“It was terrifying, but worth it for you.” Gwyn reassured you.

You wiped your tears as Gwyn finally let go. “But, how?” You asked.

Emerie had also let go of Nesta, and walked over towards you, wrapping her strong arms around you in a warm embrace. “Eris arranged everything with Azriel, and he brought us here.” She answered. “He wanted to surprise you guys. By the looks on your faces, it seems he succeeded.”

“He sure did.” You laughed. “I was not expecting to see you guys this soon. I mean, I wanted you to come visit, of course. But I figured it’d be a lot to ask, for you guys to come all this way.”

Emerie snorted. “Well, we weren’t exactly dying to stay in the Night Court.”

You and Nesta exchanged a worried glance. “Are things really that bad?” She asked quietly.

Gwyn shifted, the happiness leaving her teal eyes for a flickering moment. You noticed how she no longer wore her priestess robes, but rather an ocean blue dress and a white shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She seemed sullen at the mention of the Night Court.

Emerie, noticing Gwyn’s change, spoke up instead. “Eris and Az can fill you in later. But we haven’t seen you for months. Let’s have tonight be about us.”

Gwyn perked up and shook her shoulders, as if brushing off the topic. “Yes, we have so much to catch up on.” She shot you and Nesta a playful glare. “You both have a lot of explaining to do.”

You snorted, realising just how much you truly had to fill your friends in on. Nesta nodded in agreement but grinned ear to ear, her happiness radiating throughout your chest as if it were your own.

“The library is yours until tomorrow at sunrise,” Eris spoke up, stepping forward but maintaining a respectful distance from Gwyn and Emerie. “Nobody else will enter, and I have my most trusted guards at all exits. Nobody will try to come in, but the dragons will also be nearby, so you have nothing to worry about.”

“Dragons?” Gwyn squeaked, her eyes like saucers.

“You did say we have a lot of explaining to do.” Nesta muttered, shoulders shaking with effort not to laugh at Gwyn’s expression.

Eris smiled gently. “You will be well protected. Should you need anything, simply knock on the main door and a guard will summon a servant. Azriel and myself will be here at sunrise to take Gwyn and Emerie home, but until then, enjoy your night.”

The High Lord snapped his fingers, and the room suddenly shifted. Four large beds appeared in the corner by the hearth, complete with luxurious duvets and pillows. The table in the centre was filled with mouth watering food – pastries, roasted vegetables, perfectly cooked meats, a variety of wine and juices, everything you could possibly think of. The room lit up with dozens of candles, a soft yellow glow cast over the wood of the library corner.

“Holy shit.” Emerie muttered, jaw agape at the spread of food on the table.

Eris simply smiled as she immediately headed off towards the table, Gwyn and Nesta following. He turned to go, but you ran after him quickly. “Eris?” You called out.

As the male turned towards you, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you.” You muttered, resting your head against his chest. “I can’t express how much this means to me.”

Eris rubbed your back, holding you closely. “While I know you want nothing to do with the Night Court after everything that happened, I know how much you missed your friends. I knew I wanted you to see them the second things here settled down and it’d be safe enough. I know my court has a lot of progress to make in terms of its treatment of females, but my goal is to make it safe enough that Gwyn and Emerie can live here, if they wish. As can any female in need of safety, just as you wished.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again at Eris’s thoughtfulness. You knew he’d face a ton of resistance changing things, given how archaic the males of Autumn seemed to think. But for you and Nesta, for his mother, for every female who deserved a better life, he would do this. “Thank you.” You muttered quietly, heart bursting.

He planted a kiss on your forehead as you pulled away, stroking your cheek. “You have no reason to thank me. It is the right thing to do. Now go, enjoy your night with your friends.”

Eris lightly smacked your rear as you turned back towards Gwyn, Emerie, and Nesta. You yelped, shooting him a playful glare as he exited the library, chuckling. Your face was red as you saw Emerie’s amused expression, and Gwyn’s shocked one. Nesta simply smirked at you, sipping on a goblet of red wine.

“Ok, I really need the full story.” Gwyn said.

*********************

“Ok, so let me get this straight,” Emerie said through a mouthful of crispy chicken. “(Y/N) is basically some Mother-blessed goddess of life who brought Eris’s mom back from the dead, you each have a dragon to protect your ass, Eris is going to completely remake this court and snuff out the backwards-thinking ways, and the three of you are all mated to each other? Am I missing anything?”

You shrugged, popping another coconut cookie into your mouth and washing it down with a swig of your mimosa. “That about sums it up.”

“That’s insane,” Gwyn commented, swirling her cranberry juice in its goblet. “I’ve literally never heard about a mating bond like this. Or dragons being real.”

“Can we meet the dragons?” Emerie said excitedly, sitting up straight.

“Not quite yet,” Nesta said. “Maybe next time. I, for one, don’t want to leave this library yet.”

Gwyn mumbled her agreement. The four of you had decided to move most of the food off the table, instead spreading the table cloth across the plushy rug by the warm hearth. The food had been placed atop the cloth in a picnic style as you all laid or sat around it, content to lounge in the warm pyjamas that had been set on each of the beds. Gwyn and Emerie had listened with wide eyes as you and Nesta filled them in on everything, the reality of it settling in like a cold wave. You had been in survival mode for weeks now, not getting a chance to process anything. The more you explained it, the more memories came back. They stifled your throat, closing in on it and slowly suffocating you. Nesta had sent waves of comfort through the bond, putting you at ease.

Luckily, after several drinks those dark memories had long been forgotten hours later. A warm buzz had settled over your body, leaving your lips looser and your mind lighter. Your stomach was about to burst from the amount of food you had ingested, but you couldn’t be happier. Reuniting with your friends was something you had dreamed of for weeks, and you had to pinch yourself to make sure it was real.

“So…High Ladies, then?” Emerie drawled, turning onto her side.

“I guess so.” Nesta said, shrugging casually.

Gwyn piped up, “Is that what you want?”

Nesta took another sip of wine. “Yes and no. I’ve never wanted to be a leader or anything, but I’m better suited for this than as a soldier in the Night Court. Besides, at least I will be able to use my position to help others.”

“Unlike your sister.” The Illyrian female said, anger flashing in her deep brown eyes. “She doesn’t do jack shit. She just flaunts her Illyrian wings while we get ours clipped. It’s disgusting.”

You hummed your agreement, adding. “When I’m High Lady, I’m actually going to do shit to change things for females. Unlike Feyre. No offence, Nesta.”

“None taken.” Nesta said dryly. “Trust me, I’m with you on that.”

“Besides,” You continued, your lips letting the words out before your brain could stop to filter them. “Once I’m done changing the backwards shit around here, I’m going to go to the Night Court myself and invite the females who have suffered to come live here and have a better life. The stupid males will lose their minds and start turning on each other. Next thing you know, revolt, uprising, and then boom, Rhysand’s court is just as shattered as mine was when Feyre was done with it. That’s the angle I’m playing.”

When you stopped, the room was quiet. Nesta was buttering a biscuit, unbothered. But Gwyn and Emerie were slack-jawed. You had previously told them that there was more to your plan than just escaping the Night Court, but you had never gone into such detail for them, fearing it was too risky.

“Wait, you’re going to try and rescue the females in the Hewn City and Illyria and bring them here so that the males end up turning on each other?” Gwyn asked.

You nodded.

“Won’t that be considered kidnapping?” Emerie piped up. “Or like, an act of war?”

You scoffed. “I’m not going to force anyone to come. Offering sanctuary is not a crime, neither is protecting those who choose to come with us. Rhys is a shitty High Lord, he has done nothing to help females outside of Velaris because he thinks it can’t be done. That things just are the way they are. Imagine his face when he realises I can do more to help them in the first few years of being High Lady than he can in his centuries of it.”

“Eris is on board.” Nesta added, reassuring Gwyn and Emerie. “He wants this too. And he will make it happen.”

“Damn.” Emerie muttered. “Karma’s a bitch.”

“Can we come live here when everything’s ready?” Gwyn asked tentatively, her voice quieter.

“Of course.” Nesta said, reaching forward and squeezing the priestesses' slender hand. “But it would be a big change. Are you sure you’re ready to leave the library for a whole other court?”

Gwyn nodded fiercely. “After everything that’s happened, my disdain for living under Rhysand’s rule outweighs my desire to stay in the library. Besides, I think starting fresh could be a good thing for me.”

“What about you, Emerie?” You asked, turning towards the Illyrian female.

She rolled her eyes. “Duh. You could tell me to leave Illyria tomorrow and I’d do it in a heartbeat. Just give the word and my bags will be packed.”

You chuckled, resting your chin on your hands. Your voice slurred slightly as you spoke, “I love you guys.”

Gwyn giggled. “We love you too.”

Emerie sat up, swaying slightly. Mischief sparkled in her eyes as she asked, “Speaking of love, has either of you jumped in bed with Eris yet?”

Nesta went red instantly, and you hid your face in your hands, shaking your head at Emerie’s bold, and very drunken, question. Gwyn squealed in protest, “Emerie!”

“What?” She asked, shrugging. “They’re mates. Nesta and (Y/N) are hot. Eris is hot. Just fuck already if you haven’t.”

“I think you’ve had too much to drink!” Gwyn scolded, reaching forward and grabbing the goblet of booze from Emerie’s hand. Luckily, she didn’t notice, just continued staring at you and Nesta, expecting an answer.

But Emerie continued. “So how’s it going to work? Are you going to take turns and watch each other, or is this going to be an all hands on deck situation?”

You hoped beyond hope your face wasn’t as red as Gwyn’s as you lifted your hands, shooting Emerie a glare. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.” You said, but it lacked the ferocity you had hoped.

Gwyn smacked Emerie’s arm hard. “That’s inappropriate,” She scolded her friend, still blushing fiercely. “Besides, I don’t think three people at once would even work.”

“Oh, we’ll make it work.” Nesta said quickly and casually. You whipped your head towards her, face heating up even more. But Nesta had paled, eyes widening, clearly not having meant to say that out loud.

A heartbeat of silence passed, everyone in the room frozen in shock at Nesta’s words. Seconds later, the four of you erupted into laughter. Your body felt weightless as you laughed, your mind beginning to wander as Nesta’s words swam in your brain.

“I cannot believe I just said that.” Nesta muttered with embarrassment, putting her head in her hands.

“Me neither.” Gwyn chuckled, shaking her head.

Emerie’s laugh was booming, echoing across the chasms of the vast library. She clutched her stomach, tears streaming down her face, making the three of you laugh even harder. It felt like hours before the laughing died down, and you all collectively decided it was time to try and get some sleep. Dawn was in a few hours, and the adrenaline of the alcohol had worn off, leaving you exhausted.

Unsurprisingly, Emerie was the first to fall asleep – or pass out, more fittingly. She snored softly, not having even settled under the covers before closing her eyes and letting sleep take over. Gwyn followed shortly, curled up under her blue bedspread. You sighed heavily, staring up at the arching patterns carved into the wood of the library beams.

It was so beautiful. Everything in this court was. And things would be better once you, Nesta, and Eris had made changes to the ways of Autumn to make things safer for females. It was a thought you had clung onto for weeks, a mere memory of a hope moulding into a very possible reality. Maybe that was why you had a mating bond with both Nesta and Eris – because the universe knew the three of you could challenge the archaic ways of the past and lead the court into a better future.

(Y/N)? Nesta’s voice sounded in your head, breaking you from your sleepy thoughts.

Yes? You replied.

I just wanted to say even though I was embarrassed by what I said about making the three of us work, in bed I mean, I did mean it. It was not a joke.

Your cheeks heated up again, and all you could muster was a pathetically curious, oh?

Nesta’s smirk could be felt through the bond. I’ve wanted to take you to bed for so long. And from what I can tell, Eris has, too. I crave you. More than I’ve craved anything or anyone before. Every time I see you I have to fight the urge to drag you to bed and worship every inch of you.

Your body felt warm, the sheets too hot suddenly. How am I supposed to sleep after hearing this?

She chuckled. I will leave you to fantasise about exactly how Eris and I are going to do to you.

Not fair.

Rest well, my love.

86 notes · View notes

autumnshighlady · 2 months

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 22)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the face off with Beron Vanserra is finally about to happen, but the new discover of eris and the reader being mates makes things challenging

warnings: violence, misogyny, beron sucks so rip to y'all who liked him in chapter 20

word count: 3.3k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i know this chapter is super super short compared to the usual but i wanted to split this scene up and leave y'all on a major cliffhanger because i am evil

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20

read on ao3

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Eris is my mate

The phrase played in a loop in your head as once again chains found their way around your wrists. You barely felt the weight of them, nor did you feel the dampness of the dungeon floor against your knees, or the agonising pain in your body from where Malgorm beat you. You didn’t care that you were in a dungeon, something that typically would have sent you panicking.

All you could think about was how Eris knew he was your mate, and he kept this information from you.

You knew what excuses he’d make – that it wasn’t the right time, that it was too dangerous for you to know right now. But you didn’t care. There would never be a good time to find out that the male who your mate was mated to was also your mate. The concept of it all made your head spin. Never before have you heard of a mating bond existing between three people unanimously. Sure, there were people you knew of in polyamorous relationships, but never with a mating bond. According to legend, the mating bond was designed to bring together a male and female who would produce strong offspring. Nesta and Eris made sense, and with the newfound discovery of your unexplored abilities it was safe to assume that you and Eris being mates somewhat made sense too. But you and Nesta could not create a child together, nor did you have any desire to.

It was too convenient. Too easy to have a mating bond happening to exist between the three of you. And to complicate matters, you knew Nesta still felt linked to Cassian somehow, despite not being his mate.

A thousand questions swarmed your mind as Saeros and Ivar closed the door behind them, leaving you seemingly alone in the cell, waiting for Beron and Eris to arrive.

(Y/N), You heard Nesta’s voice in your head, so close by as if she were whispering softly into your ear. I’m here. Azriel is hiding us in the corner to your left.

You did not reply. All you could do was stare blankly at the floor beneath you, inspecting the various cracks and crevices. The blood of thousands had probably been spilled into this very floor. Perhaps Beron would see right through your plan, and simply smite you into the stone. And perhaps it’d be a blessing.

Nesta’s voice came again, more worried this time. Hey, are you okay? Something’s wrong, I can feel it.

You laughed hoarsely, a harsh sound that echoed eerily throughout the chamber. That’s something you should ask your other mate. Or should I say, our other mate.

Even the air seemed to still around you, surprise pulsing from Nesta’s end of the bond. I take it he didn’t tell you, either. You continued bitterly.

No. He did not. Did you just find this out?

Another cursed tear fell down your cheek, landing on the cold floor with a delicate plop. Yes, right after you and Azriel left, the bond snapped. He didn’t seem surprised, only… only remorseful. I can’t believe he kept this from me. I trusted him… and now…

You felt a gentle caress down the bond, a soft mist of silver soothing over the raging sea of emotions on your end. You could not see Nesta, or even sense her presence thanks to Azriel’s shadows, but you could feel her.

You could not feel Eris, having elected to put up an iron wall between you and him.

I know this is the last thing you want to deal with right now, but we need to focus on the plan. Nesta said sternly. Believe me, I know the emotional turmoil that comes with finding out Eris is your mate, yours made worse by the fact he lied to you. But none of this matters right now. None of us will be safe with Beron alive. Killing him is all that matters, for the next thirty minutes at least. Can you hold on, just a little longer? Please.

Your heart felt like it was being pulled in a hundred different directions. Deep down, you knew Nesta was right, that none of this mattered if Beron still held dominion over the Autumn Court. So you took a deep breath, forcing the stale air of the dungeon into your lungs. You closed your eyes. I am the rock against which the surf crashes, You told yourself. Nothing can break me.

You imagined Emerie’s hearty laugh, and Gwyn’s bright eyes as you repeated the Valkyrie mantra to yourself over and over again, willing your mind to still.

You had to get through this. Not just for yourself, or Nesta, but for Gwyn and Emerie. For every female who had suffered like all of you had. For the chance at giving them a better life.

For them, you would do this.

It only took ten minutes before you heard the angry voice of Beron Vanserra, his footsteps heavy against the stairs that winded down into the dungeon deep within the Autumn Court prison. The pounding fuzziness of your head kept you from making out his words, but his tone said enough.

“She’s down here, father. Nobody else knows, I swear by it.” The coming of Eris’s voice was like the crisp autumn breeze that cleared away the dewey morning haze, bringing life to the world around it. Even though you had tried to block him out, his close proximity was too much, and the feeling of his approaching presence sent a tingling warmth through your body, defrosting your bones.

“Make sure your guards know if they breathe a word about this to anyone, I’ll cut off the head of everyone they’ve ever loved.” The High Lord snarled.

Moments later, the heavy door swung open, revealing a shocked but furious looking Beron Vanserra. His hair was slightly dishevelled, and he was clothed in extravagant red and gold robes. Evidently, Beron did not like being woken up in the late hours. Eris strode in behind his father, that familiar cold mask adorning his features. His amber eyes settled on you, and you fought the urge to squirm as he stared at you as if you were nothing.

You knew it was an act, yet it was hard to keep yourself from tearing up. There was no warmth in those eyes that had stared into your very soul with vulnerability as the bond had snapped into place. His lips were pulled down in a scowl that made you cower. It was hard enough to remind yourself you were all playing roles in this situation, but the contrast of the deep-rooted mating bond with the angerEris was looking at you with made the room spin before you.

You forced yourself to look up at Beron. There was no trace of the loving father-in-law facade he had put on in front of Rhys. No, his eyes were black pits in his skull, dark voids of hatred that knew no bounds. You didn’t have to fake your tremor as the High Lord stared you down.

“Eris tells me that Malgorm has been slain by your hand,” Beron said, his voice a thin layer of ice holding back a raging sea. “Do you deny this?”

You had no idea how long Eris, Nesta, and Azriel had planned on letting Beron interrogate you before they made their move. As you scrambled to think of what to say, Nesta spoke urgently into your mind. Buy us time. Eris’s guards need to secure the area in the next few minutes. Talk.

“It was an accident, your Grace.” You sputtered, desperation seeping into your tone. “He came onto me in the middle of the night, and he brought a knife with him. I was just trying to get him off of me, I didn’t mean to–”

“Silence!” Beron hissed. “I ordered Malgorm to stay away from you. He is an obedient son, and would have listened to me. You must have snuck into his room during the night and tried to kill him to end this engagement.”

“Actually, that is not true.” Eris interjected carefully. “Several eyewitnesses confirm Malgorm was not in his room at that hour, and was seen headed towards the corridor where (Y/N)’s room resides. She is covered in wounds that only Malgorm would have inflicted. You know what kind of male he was, father. You cannot be surprised–”

“SILENCE!” Beron yelled sharply, spit flying from his lips as he shot a glare at Eris. “My son is dead, and you dare speak ill of him before a grave can even be dug for his body? You disgust me.”

Your breath hitched as the High Lord turned back towards you. “I offered you the greatest honour that a pathetic female like you could have hoped for,” He growled. “And you decide that is not good enough and murder my son. You will pay for this with your life, girl.”

“My Lord, may I suggest–” Eris couldn’t finish his sentence before his father cut him off again, unhinged anger coming off him in waves.

“You have no say in this, boy. Your mother made you too softhearted. You would never be able to rule this court successfully, and it is clear I have wasted my breath trying to make you my heir.”

Eris was utterly still, his eyes narrowing like a snake about to strike it’s target. “I will be a better High Lord than you or the bastards who came before you have ever been.” He said calmly.

And then the room exploded.

Tidal waves of silver fire exploded from the darkness, shadows peeling away like curtains to reveal Nesta. Her eyes blazed with silver, that otherworldly magic rippling off her as she used her flames to press the High Lord into the wall. The sound of his body hitting the stone was like thunder over the mountains, creating small cracks along the space behind him. Orange flames joined, entwining through the silver flames like a magical dance. Beron writhed underneath them, sending his own fire in an attempt to defend himself.

But it was no use against the fury of Eris’s fire, or the steel will of Nesta’s magic. Your jaw went slack as you stared at your mates, one bathed in orange and the other in silver. Red and dark gold hair flared around their necks, as if carried by an imaginary breeze. They looked like gods from another world, coming to unleash their power on the inhabitants of this world.

You heard the sound of keys jingling as Azriel’s familiar voice sounded in your ear. “Come on,” He said urgently. “Let’s get you out of here.”

The chains released your wrists, your arms falling to the ground with relief. You felt Azriel’s shadows curling around you, ready to winnow you away. “No.” You said firmly.

“This is not up for debate. I’ve been instructed to get you to safety the moment shit goes down, and I intend to do so.”

You turned around to glare at the shadowsinger, his hazel eyes glowing against the silver and orange light from the flames. He was still partially hidden, his shadows dancing around eagerly as if ready to join in on the action. “I am not leaving them until it’s done.” You insisted.

He grabbed your arm firmly. “I will not let you get hurt in the middle of this.”

“Then protect me. I cannot leave them behind. You cannot take me away… again.”

You saw the regret flicker across Azriel’s face as he evidently remembered the last time he stole you away at the Hewn City. It was a low blow, you knew. Especially after all Azriel was risking just by being here helping you. After a moment, the Illyrian sighed, muttering something about your stubbornness before saying, “Fine. Get behind me.”

A shimmering blue light formed around the two of you, shielding you from the angry flames. Azriel’s siphons glowed as he produced a wall of protection. You peeked out from beside his arm to witness the scene before you, heart racing.

“Your time as High Lord has ended, Beron Vanserra.” Eris said sternly, his eyes glowing, his voice an echo on the roaring wind of the flames. “Too long have you sat upon this throne and cast a shadow over this court. Nobody will mourn your death, father. Just as nobody will mourn Malgorm’s. When you see him in hell, what’s left of your souls can spend the rest of your miserable eternity there knowing there isn’t a single individual who wishes either of you were still here.”

You expected Beron to spew vile insults, to fight back angrily and wish a miserable death upon you all. But the male only laughed, a rasping sound like two stones rubbing together. “This is a truly pathetic show,” Beron said. “All of this planning and scheming, and for what? You can’t kill me. You needed the magic of your mate to help you while you strung your other mate up like bait. You’re weak, boy. Too weak to ever take me on properly. You’re a coward, and a fool.”

You felt pure shock coming from both ends of the bond. You couldn’t see Eris and Nesta’s faces from your angle, but their flames flickered for a split second, as if they too couldn’t believe what Beron said.

As if reading your mind, the High Lord snorted and continued. “Get that stupid surprised look off your face. Of course I knew this whole time. You forget, I’ve been in this world a long time and can sniff out mates before they even know it themselves. Of course I was aware of your disgusting threeway bond. It’s the only reason I didn’t slaughter you, boy, for getting engaged to the Archeron female without telling me. I thought marrying that Spring Court wench to Malgorm would take care of some of my problem, at least.”

Nesta spoke up, fury lacing her voice. “What?”

“You are a fool, Eris. Of course Malgorm obeyed my every command. Who do you think told him to attack the girl in her room tonight? I gave the order less than a minute after you left the table, you stupid boy. You handed me the opportunity on a silver platter.”

“Why?” Was all Eris said, his flames angrily licking at Beron’s fingers. A burnt smell began to fill the room as they burned the High Lord’s flesh.

But like the madman he was, Beron continued manically, seemingly blind to the pain his son was inflicting on him. “A mating bond between three people is unnatural, a crime against all that we hold dear. She needed to be eliminated in order for your marriage to Nesta to work. I didn’t care what Malgorm did to her. I told him he could do as he pleased, as long as it ended with her throat slit.” He turned his beady eyes towards you, making you freeze. “I would have let him carve you up into a thousand pieces. A pity he didn’t get the chance to do so before you murdered him. He was weak. No son of mine would let himself be murdered by a stupid female.”

You weren’t sure you were even breathing as reality sunk in. Beron knew the entire time that the three of you were mates, long before any of you had even figured it out fully. The truth of that sinister cunningness beneath his gaze that had unsettled you made your stomach churn. He had been one step ahead the entire time, counting on Malgorm killing you to ensure a marriage between Eris and Nesta without complication. It took a great amount of self control not to vomit all over Azriel, who was watching the scene unfold with a look of pure horror in his eyes.

A spear of orange fire wrapped around Beron’s throat, leaving red scorch marks on the male’s skin as he gasped for air. “You will not talk about my mate like that, you fucking asshole.” Eris snarled viciously as the flames grey brighter. “I will kill you for this. I will slaughter you for everything you put her through. For everything you put all of us through. Nobody will miss you, you absolute filth.”

Silver and orange flames danced higher, rolling back like a wave about to crash down on the sand. But before Eris and Nesta could strike down the High Lord, the door swung open and the Lady of Autumn ran in.

“Stop!” She cried desperately, her eyes frantic.

“Mother?” Shock laced Eris’s voice, and just for a split second, his flames flickered and dimmed.

That split second was all Beron needed to cast forth a wall of angry fire, pushing Nesta and Eris’s flames away. He roared definitely as your mates were thrown backwards, landing on the cell floor with a loud thump. You tried to pull away from Azriel, but his arms wrapped around you, holding you firm behind his shield. You thrashed and fought, but were no match for the Illyrian.

“Let me go!” You hissed, stomping on his foot as hard as you could. But he didn’t budge.

“What are you doing?” Eris gasped, making his way back onto his feet with unsteady legs. A thin trail of blood trickled down his nose, evidence of the toll that much power took on him. Nesta scrambled to her feet, silver flames already curling defensively around her hands. You couldn’t help but notice how they trembled.

“Please don’t do this, Eris.” Lirilla begged. “He is your father. I have already lost so many of your brothers, don’t take your father from me, too. Let him go.”

Eris looked utterly broken, confusion and sadness written plainly across his features. The arrogant confident mask he had donned moments ago was gone. “You know more than any of us what kind of male he is,” Eris insisted. “Let me free us of him. For good.”

“Please, no. Eris…” The Lady of Autumn sobbed.

Your heart shattered at the sight. Fresh bruises were visible on the frail female’s body, yet she stood here and begged her son to not kill the one who inflicted them. Eris’s mother had endured Beron’s abuse so long she seemingly didn’t know who she was without it or him. She could not dare hope that things would ever change, so she accepted her fate, finding comfort in the dark corner her husband forced her into.

You remembered how she offered you some sanctuary the other night, willing to endure more abuse to spare you from some of it. She had seemed so resourceful, so strong despite all she had faced.

Yet here she stood, regressed before her cruel husband as she begged for his life to be spared.

Rather than rushing towards Eris or Nesta, Beron’s dark red flames wound around Lirilla’s throat. Her eyes popped open as they suffocated her, and the High Lord stood himself up and came over to stand beside her, facing Eris and Nesta.

“Stand down, or your mother dies.” Beron growled sternly, a sick glee coming across his features.

Your heart was in your throat as you felt Eris being torn in too – closer to his goal than he had ever been before, but uncertain of what to do. “You’re bluffing.” Eris said, but his voice was weak as he watched his mother gasp for air.

“Am I?” Beron said, fixing a glare at Nesta, who was frozen in shock. “You too, girl. Stand down. Now.”

A heartbroken look passed between Eris and Nesta. You felt every turmoil of emotion through the bonds, ripping away at your heart as you watched Eris nod to Nesta. Silver and orange flames evaporated into thin air, leaving behind angry scorch marks.

Beron laughed harshly, psychotic dark eyes gleaming as he snarled at his son. “I told you, boy. Your mother made you too softhearted.”

Before any of you could react, a sick crunching sound echoed throughout the dungeon as Beron reached over with his own two hands and snapped the Lady of Autumn’s neck.

The light left Lirilla’s eyes as her body fell down onto the cold floor in a crumpled heap.

And Eris began screaming.

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autumnshighlady · 2 months

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 21)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: plans become finalized, and you finally get a moment alone with Nesta and Eris.

warnings: graphic violence, misogyny, ANGST ANGST ANGST

word count: 7.5k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i genuinely hate how i wrote this chapter it disgusts me so i apologize for how terrible it is but let me know your thoughts as always!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20

read on ao3

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The venison was tasteless in your mouth as you pushed your food around the golden plate. Beside you, Malgorm was already on his second helping, the juice from the meat dripping down his chin, and you tried not to cringe.

After Rhysand had left, Beron had ordered you, Malgorm, Nesta, and Eris to join him and the Lady of Autumn for lunch. Even though your stomach churned at the idea of consuming food after the anxiety of Rhys’s visit, you had simply smiled and said it would be an honour. Beron had offered you his arm, ordering you to walk with him to the dining hall. Keeping up the facade, you had once again gone along with it with a smile.

Beron’s moods gave you whiplash. When you had last seen the High Lord, he was ready to toss your body back over the Autumn Court border. He had not cared if you had lived or died, but something had changed. The way he defended you against Rhysand, treating you like his own daughter that he genuinely loved, unsettled you. It was an act so convincing that part of you wanted to believe it was real. But you weren’t stupid, you knew better. Beneath the surface, there was something evil and cunning behind his actions.

There was always an ulterior motive with Beron, that much you had been told by Eris. But if Beron had married you to Malgorm with the hopes that his second youngest son would eliminate you from his list of problems, then why bother being so nice to you?

For a split second, your eyes had met Eris’s as you took his father’s arm. Panic flickered across his amber gaze before slipping away. That look haunted you as you walked – why was Eris so afraid? Even you knew that Beron wasn’t about to strike you down at that moment.

A thousand questions and thoughts swarmed your head as you ate. With a hearty sip of wine, you forced yourself to pay attention to the conversation at the table.

“The Lords from the remaining cities will be here in three days' time for the wedding,” Eris was saying to Beron. “Extra servants have been brought to the guest house to ensure all their needs are met.”

Beron spoke between bites, not bothering to look at his son. “And the wine storages are fully stocked?”

“Of course. I had extra barrels brought in just in case.”

The High Lord simply made a noise of what you assumed to be satisfaction. He turned towards you, those cunning eyes meeting yours. You fought the urge to squirm under his gaze. “Are you looking forward to your wedding, girl?” He asked. The question was pointed – phrased politely enough to not raise questions but there was a challenge underlying his voice. Beron was not an idiot, it was clear he had figured out you knew exactly what kind of male Malgorm was. Every wince in your movement had been noticed by the High Lord, it seemed. As he now dared you to protest the engagement.

The true Beron Vanserra seeping through the strained mask of a loving father.

But you did not give in. “Of course, my Lord,” You dipped your head politely. “It is an honour I could have only dreamed of. I look forward to being wed to your son.”

The High Lord pressed further, as if to urge a stronger reaction out of you. “Is it the wedding you always dreamed of having?”

“Not particularly. But only because I never thought I would be lucky enough to be engaged into someone of such royal status. Nor did I expect it to be a Lord of the Autumn Court. But this wedding is better than anything I could have ever hoped for as a child, and I thank you, High Lord.” A blend of truth and lies, the sweet spot to dealing with Beron Vanserra, as Eris had once told you. You could never outright lie to the male, for he had a talent of seeing right through it. Beron narrowed his eyes for a second, but thankfully did not press you further. Instead, he turned back to Eris. “Once Malgorm’s wedding is over, we will keep the staff for the next month to prepare for your wedding to Nesta. No use spending more gold sending them home only to have to bring them back two weeks later.”

Eris nodded. “An excellent idea, my Lord.”

As the eldest Vanserra discussed more details of the weddings with his father, you snuck a glance at Nesta. She sat across from you, eyes darting between her unfinished plate of food and the conversation between Eris and Beron. She sat stiffer than normal, as if being in close proximity to Eris was too much for her. Thankfully, no scent of the mating bond hung in the air between them, or between you and her, hiding this larger than life secret from Beron.

More than anything, you wanted to go over to her. To sit next to Nesta and hold her hand, leaning into the comfort of her presence. It chipped away at your heart having to act so distant from the female, your mate. It was a hard act to keep up, and you didn’t know how Eris had survived for so long pretending to be so detached.

For the first time in days, you reached down through the bond towards Nesta. You did so as subtly as possible, as to not elicit any sort of reaction from her that might draw attention. On her end of the bond, it was as if a wall of storm clouds were surrounding her. You could feel her turmoil, a whirlwind of emotions so strong it nearly sent you back down to your end of the bond.

But you stayed, gently pressing into the thick wall on her end, urging her to let you in. At first, they did not give, shutting you out and preventing you from feeling her through the bond. Please, you begged her silently. And then you felt the clouds soften, allowing you to push through into the centre, towards the end of the bond. Instantly, you began to feel better, your nerves soothing as the bond warmed and brought you comfort.

But then you felt Nesta’s emotions through the bond. It took everything in you not to flinch as you stood in the eye of her hurricane. It was too loud, as if a thousand different voices were screaming at her at once. Guilt, anger, confusion, all crashing into her like the tidal waves of a raging sea. Yet none of it showed on her face, as if her emotions were not even there. You caressed her end of the bond, feeling the storm slow ever so slightly. It will be ok, you reassured her.

You saw Nesta’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and it took all your self control to go back to your end of the bond. You wanted to keep your mind huddled in there, soothing her and turning those grey clouds into distant memories. But you couldn’t, not with Beron there.

The sound of footsteps dragged your attention away from Nesta. A male in courtier attire appeared, bowing low and apologising for the interruption before insisting the Vanserra’s accompany him to attend to an urgent matter. Beron seethed, angry at being disturbed at meal time, but Eris spoke quickly. “Of course, we will see to it right away.”

Malgorm, Lirilla, Beorn, and Eris all stood up and began to follow the male, speaking in hushed voices leaving you and Nesta alone at the table. As the doors closed behind them, you peaked around at the ten guards in the room. No doubt they reported you and Nesta’s every move to Beron, making you unable to speak freely. Gods, it had been so long since you had a moment alone with Nesta. You had barely seen her in the last week with the wedding planning.

After a few minutes of silence, Nesta finally spoke. “So, are you being kept busy with wedding preparations?” Her voice sounded forced and awkward, confusing you until you heard her speak a second time, but into your mind through the bond. The guards are listening. Keep talking about the wedding.

You cleared your throat, straightening your spine. “Yes, very much so. The different cake varieties I sampled were incredible. Would you like to hear about them? You’ll likely be presented with the same options in a few weeks.” Are you ok?

“Do tell.” Are you? Azriel told us about what Malgorm did to you.

You barely heard yourself rambling on about various aspects of the wedding as you continued your mind speaking conversation with Nesta. Yes. No. I’m not sure. Things with him are already bad, and I��ve been told it’ll get worse once the wedding happens.

Like we said, we won’t let that happen.

Are you sure? Nesta blinked at your words. Because as much as everyone’s telling me I’m not allowed to know anything about your plan to stop the wedding and kill Beron, it really just seems like you have nothing.

She did not respond. A chilly gust of wind seeped in through the cracked windows, unyielding against the blazing fires meant to keep the room warm. The candles flickered, and neither of you moved as you stared at each other. Well? You asked her. Am I wrong?

It’s not that. Nesta said, her blue-grey eyes going down to gaze upon the intricate designs of the table cloth. Eris, Azriel and I are at a disagreement about how to handle the situation. Eris and Azriel believe… Her voice in your head faded off like a song carried by the wind.

You gulped, swallowing the lump in your throat. Well?

Nesta’s solemn gaze met yours. Eris and Azriel believe the best way to end the engagement is to kill Malgorm. And to frame you for it.

Your stomach dropped. You knew Eris was cutthroat and bold with his schemes, but this? This felt like a setup. Your trust with Eris had waxed and waned in the years you had known him, and since your arrival in Autumn he had done nothing to make you believe that he would betray you.

But if he was mated to Nesta as well, perhaps he did not want to share his mate. A mating bond affected males deeply, that much you knew. You willed your panicked breaths to cease as Nesta continued mind speaking. Eris would be the one to find you over Malgorm’s body and take you to the dungeons. That would lure Beron down for an interrogation, where I would be waiting with Eris to kill him. Eris claims that the shock of a bride killing her suitor before the wedding would be something Beron would want to keep under wraps, so he would be more likely to come to deal with the situation alone without letting the word get out that you were supposedly the one to kill Malgorm.

So you’d use me as bait? Your throat was dry, stomach resisting the urge to hurl up lunch’s contents.

Silver fire flickered beneath Nesta’s eyes. Absolutely not. That is where we disagree. I am not willing to let you be put in this position. Too many things can go wrong.

I’ll do it.

Nesta’s slender hand curled tighter around her goblet of wine. No you will not. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you about this plan, (Y/N). Because this is exactly what Eris said you’d do.

So you’d rather me not have a choice, just like you didn’t have a choice either when you were shipped off to the House of Wind?

Your mate flinched as if she had been struck. Part of you regretted your words, but the other part didn’t. Nesta was being blinded by fear for your safety, as any good mate would. You knew it was unfair to compare the two very different situations, but that didn’t change how you felt. Nesta, I’ve had all of my choices ripped away from me these last few weeks. You know damn well how that feels. Please. As my mate, let me do this. Let me have this be my choice.

Her face softened slightly, contemplating your words. She sighed, pretending to fiddle with the hem of her sleeve as her voice sounded in your head again. Funny. Eris knew you’d say that too, if you found out. Something tells me the slippery bastard was banking on me telling you so he didn’t have to. I don’t think he wants to piss you off.

You chuckled into your wine as you took a sip. So, how do you plan on killing my beloved fiancée? Beheading? Death by glorious silver fire? Being fed to the dogs?

Believe me. After what Malgorm did to you, Eris wants nothing more than to make a public spectacle of his suffering. But we will have to be quick and discreet, lest we draw attention to ourselves. And it has to look like you did it, not us.

How will that work?

We’re still figuring out the details.

You folded your hands in your lap, taking a deep breath as you decided to finally address the elephant in the room. So… you and Eris?

Nesta stiffened visibly, her voice quieter in your head as if she was pulling back. I don’t want to talk about it.

Nes, please. We don’t have to talk about it right now but… but I need to hear it from you, not Azriel. Please, just tell me… is it true that a bond snapped between you and Eris?

A moment of silence before her answer. Yes.

Ok.

Ok? That’s it?

Well what do you expect me to say?

I don’t know. It feels strange, having more than one bond. It’s as if I am being unfaithful to you. Aren’t you supposed to be mad?

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, stabbing a piece of broccoli on your plate harder than necessary. Azriel asked me the same damn thing. And I’ll tell you what I told him: no, I am not mad. No, I am not jealous or hurt. Hell, I feel like I should be, but I’m not. I see no reason why potentially being loved by more than one person is a bad thing when it hurts nobody.

But things have… happened between us. A faint blush crossed Nesta’s cheeks. Things I don’t just want to forget and let go of.

You remembered her words to you, those six words that made up the phrase you replayed in your head over and over again every day after Nesta was brought back from her hike with Cassian. It’s you. It’s always been you.

She had never explicitly said it, but Nesta loved you. And you loved her. No amount of mating bonds would change that.

And you don’t have to. Your hands tingled with the urge to reach across the table and entangle your fingers in her own. I certainly won’t. We can figure out what all of this means for us once things settle down, ok?

A hint of a smirk crossed Nesta’s lips. Remember that day after the Prison where you helped me bathe?

You were naked in front of me and I was too nervous to look because I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured. Of course I remember.

There was a haunted glaze over her eyes that replaced the playful one. You’re so different from Cassian. He… he always wanted to fuck me in those moments where I was vulnerable. And I wanted it too, but…

You finished her sentence for her. But he should have known better.

You felt something warm around your ankle. It was gentle, and you knew if you looked under the table and beneath your skirt you would have seen a silver flame there. It was electrifying, but not burning – a soft caress of reassurance.

The sound of the doors opening snapped you out of your trance. A pissed-off looking Beron entered the room, his sons behind him with their heads low. Lirilla was nowhere to be seen.

You and Nesta quickly stood up, curtseying at the Vanserra’s. The atmosphere in the room tensed with their arrival, Beron’s anger casting a dark cloud over everything like the comings of a thunderous storm. His face was twisted with mal contempt as he resumed his seat at the head of the table, delving back into his food without giving the nod for the rest of the lunch party to sit down as well. The sound of the High Lord’s noisy eating echoed throughout the room. You clasped your hands together, impatiently wanting to sit back down.

After what seemed like forever, Beron finally nodded, urging the rest of you to finally take your seats. Malgorm reached behind you to pull out your chair, his hand conveniently brushing your backside along the way. It took every ounce of self control you had to not glare at him. He snickered as you stiffened at his actions.

“Father,” Eris spoke up smoothly. “Lady (Y/N) and Lady Nesta have finished their meals, and I believe you and my dear brother still have wedding matters to discuss. If it pleases you, I can escort both of them back to their chambers.”

Malgorm’s thin upper lip curled, eyes flashing with anger identical to Beron’s as he challenged his brother. “I can escort my own fiancée.”

Eris scoffed. “I saw you groping her ass just now. I do not think I can trust you to bring her back to her room without soiling her before the wedding.”

You cringed at his language, speaking of you as if you were a shiny new object. Females here were treated just as badly as in the Court of Nightmares. It would be hard for Eris to convince them to change their ways, and you doubted he would be able to do so without bloodshed. You wanted more than anything to make Autumn Court safe enough for Gwyn and Emerie to be brought here, along with any female who sought a better life.

“You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do with my wife, brother.” Malgorm snarled viciously, causing you to flinch.

“Silence!” Beron seethed. Malgorm’s eyes still burned with anger, but he clenched his jaw shut at his father’s orders. “Eris may not be able to tell you what to do, but I can. Eris is right – if you cannot be trusted to keep your cock in your pants, then you are not to be alone with your bride until after the wedding. She is to remain pure and untouched until you are married, am I clear, Malgorm?”

Malgorm sighed. “Yes, my Lord.”

“Then consider the matter closed.” Beron motioned for another glass of wine to be poured. “Eris, escort the females back to their respective chambers. Now.”

Eris nodded hastily, offering Nesta his arm as they both stood up. When they reached your side of the table, you took Eris’s other arm. His expression was unreadable as he led you away from the table, heavy doors closing behind you.

*********************

The three of you walked back to your bedroom in silence. Guards and servants hastily parted ways as you strode through the winding hallways. Eris held his head high, the perfect portrait of an arrogant eldest son. You wondered how many of the servants reported to Eris or Lirilla rather than Beron.

Autumn truly was a court of spiderwebs, each one carefully woven by each player of their own game. Unless you knew for sure who was loyal to who, nobody could be trusted.

You relaxed when you saw Saeros and Ivar posted outside your door. They nodded to Eris ever so slightly, a reassuring sign that they wouldn’t repeat whatever they overheard. Beron’s eldest son ushered you and Nesta into your room, and only when the door closed and locked behind you did you let out a breath.

“We may speak freely here.” Eris said, igniting a small flame on his fingertip. He flicked his hand, casting it into the fireplace. A soft orange flow filled the room, chasing away some of the damp chill.

You kicked off your shoes and sat down in the middle of your bed, sighing against the soft pillows. You rubbed your temples, feeling the mattress sink beside you as Nesta joined you. Her comforting scent calmed you, and you finally reached down and entwined your fingers in hers. Warmth swelled in your chest through the bond, relief of finally having physical contact with your mate. Nesta’s gaze softened, her blue-grey eyes finally free of their cold mask. She squeezed your hand comfortingly, her free hand coming up to brush a lock of hair out of your face.

“So, (Y/N),” Eris drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the tall bedpost. “Shall I challenge you to a blood duel for the hand of our mate?”

You felt Nesta stiffen beside you, and you shot a death glare at the Prince. “That’s not fucking funny, Eris.” You snapped.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on (Y/N). It is a little funny, you have to admit. The female we both wanted to save from being swallowed by Rhysand’s dreadful court just happens to be both our mate? I find great irony in that, don’t you?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an insensitive asshole?” You shot back. Beside you, Nesta’s lips twitched ever so slightly as if she were fighting off a chuckle.

“Oh, plenty. But it sounds so much better when you say it.” Eris purred. “Besides, I’m a very sensitive male. I got you guys your alone time at the table earlier, didn’t I?”

Nesta spoke up, confusion lacing her voice. “You planned that?”

Eris sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to his heart. “Your surprise wounds me, my love. Of course I planned it. With a bit of help from a certain shadowsinger in creating a distraction to pull my father away from his favourite meal.”

“You certainly have a lot of tricks up your sleeve.” You muttered, the heat from the fire finally beginning to warm you up. Nesta leaned closer into you, her arm grazing yours as she settled into the cushions.

The Autumn Prince smirked. “Always. Now, the elephant in the room is that (Y/N) and I are both mated to Nesta. However, that does not matter until we can end your engagement to Malgorm. But for the sake of efficiency, shall we put all discussions of mating bonds on pause for now while we figure out what to do about my brother?”

“Please.” You spoke at the same time Nesta said, “I would love nothing more.”

“Perfect. Now, I trust Nesta told you about how much she disagrees with mine and Azriel’s plan?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Yes, I did. And naturally, she was on board.”

Eris clasped his hands together smugly. “Good girl,” He said as he smirked at you. “I was right. Admit it, Nesta.”

“I’d rather stick pins in my eyes, thanks.” Nesta said dryly. You snorted at the deadpan tone of her voice.

“But they’re such pretty eyes.” Eris protested before continuing in a more serious manner. “Anywho, as I predicted, you are willing to play a role in this, correct, (Y/N)?”

You shifted against the pillows, nervous at the idea of the plan. But you forced your voice to be even as you said, “If you mean am I willing to be Malgorm’s bait, yes.”

“Make no mistake, I do not like it either. But as I am sure Nesta explained to you, framing you for his death would force my father to come deal with the matter personally. By having you chained up in the dungeons as evidence, it is more believable. Then, Nesta and I can kill him.”

“Why do your plans always involve me in chains?” You sighed.

Eris’s voice was like pure silk as he replied, “Maybe I just like the way you look tied up.”

“Eris.” Nesta growled, her voice low with warning. You couldn’t tell which your heart was fluttering from more – Nesta’s veiled protectiveness, or Eris’s flirtatious remark.

The Prince continued as if he had not heard her. “But yes, chains are a little extreme even for my taste. I will not lie to you, there are huge risks involved with this plan. And I promised Nesta I would be transparent with you. In order for it to be believable, you have to be there when Malgorm dies. And if you were without injury, my father would see right through it.”

Your mouth dried up at his words. As if sensing that, Nesta clamped her hand even tighter around yours. Her lips were drawn in a thin disapproving line, and you could feel her distaste for the plan through the bond. Even though it was written all over her face.

“So you’re going to let Malgorm beat me up a bit first?” You asked, swallowing the dread that was building up in your throat.

The look on Eris’s face was one of remorse, an expression you had not seen him wear before. “That’s the only way it’ll work, my dear.” He said softly. “My father needs to be able to smell Malgorm’s touch on you. Feigning injuries will not work in this case. The evidence of a struggle needs to be real.”

“Stop.” Nesta hissed at Eris. “We can’t do this. I will not stand by and let my mate get hurt by that male.”

“Nesta,” You said quietly, and her head turned back towards you. “He already has hurt me. After everything I’ve… after all that’s happened I can take it. I promise.”

“Besides, we will be right there in the shadows. We will not let anything terrible happen to you. You have my word.” Eris added in an attempt to ease Nesta’s worries.

“Please.” Nesta’s voice was breaking barely above a whisper as she spoke to you, desperation in her grey eyes. “You have already sacrificed enough for all of this. I will support your decision but… please, don’t do this. We can find another way.”

You smiled sadly, cupping her cheek with your free hand and letting her lean into your touch. “We both know this is the only option. It’s okay, I can do this. Let me do this so we can finally be free of Beron and Malgorm.”

Nesta closed her eyes and sighed, but nodded. Gingerly, she grabbed your hand that was cupping her cheek and pulled it away. She pressed a soft kiss to the palm of it before entwining her fingers in your own. “Okay.” She said softly. “I trust you.”

Eris coughed, forcing you to break your gaze away from Nesta and focus back on him. “Now that that’s settled, we need to discuss the logistics of the plan.” He said. “(Y/N), Malgorm will undoubtedly choose to come see you here in this room. That’s where everything will take place.”

You frowned. “I thought your father banned him from being alone with me. Don’t your brothers obey your father’s orders?”

He shook his head. “Not Malgorm. His obsession with the chase of a forbidden female will tramp any desire to listen to Beron’s orders. The High Lord did us a favour and planted the seeds for him coming to seek you out somewhere that is not public, which gives us more privacy to kill him. I have no doubt he will come to your room tonight to spite my father.”

“Tonight?” Nesta said, tensing up beside you. “That soon?”

“I strongly believe so, yes. Malgorm will seek (Y/N) out tonight after most of the castle is asleep. She is to try and ward off his advances which will provoke him to anger. Then–”

You interrupted Eris. “Then I let him use me as a punching bag for a bit before you guys come in and kill him?”

“Not quite.” The male said, twirling the large amber ring on his finger. “He needs to die without magic being used to deal the blow, or else it won’t be believable since nobody knows you possess any kind of magic. Malgorm is to be slain with a dagger, the old fashioned way. Nesta will use her magic to restrain him and his powers, while Azriel comes in and deals the killing blow.”

“Azriel?” You baulked. “Why not you, Eris? Don’t you want to be the one to kill your brother?”

“Believe me, there are few things that would make me happier.” Eris said bitterly. “But Azriel can use his shadows to mask his scent – it would be too obvious if I killed him. My father knows exactly how I fight, how I wield a blade. We cannot take that risk. Plus, I believe the shadowsinger is still trying to make up for his role in your capture in the Night Court. Besides, I am trying to conserve my power to make killing my father as easy as possible.”

You hadn’t expected Azriel to be actively participating in this plan. It was an act of war for him to slay Malgorm, and a huge risk for him to take. But Eris was right – for the sake of evidence, it was easier if Azriel killed Malgorm with a blade than if Eris incinerated the bastard with his magic. “So what will you be doing amidst all this?” You asked. “Standing in the corner braiding your hair?”

“My job will be to keep you out of harm’s way after Nesta and Azriel enter the picture. And to provide backup if needed, but I am confident in Nesta’s ability to take on my brother alone. Especially with her hatred towards him.”

You glanced at Nesta, who met your gaze and nodded. “I will deal with Malgorm.” She promised, her voice cold.

“Once Malgorm is dead, Azriel will winnow Nesta away and I will make sure everything is in order. My guards have been instructed to enter the room once I depart, and they will take you to the dungeons while I go inform my father. You will be chained, but Azriel has the key. He will be in the cell with you, hiding Nesta with him. Once my father comes down, Nesta and I will work on killing him while Azriel unchains you. He will take you to my personal residence and get you healed up. Once Beron is dead, we will all breathe a sigh of relief.”

“And I won’t have to marry that awful male.” You added.

Eris nodded. “Precisely. by tomorrow morning, my father and brother will be dead, and I will be High Lord. And we will drink the best wine my court has to offer to celebrate.”

*********************

It was impossible to try and sleep. You didn’t know why you bothered – perhaps it was an attempt to make time pass until the inevitable happened. Malgorm was coming for you. And every creak and noise from the surrounding area made you flinch.

It wasn’t the pain you were afraid of. Gods knew you had endured worse at the hands of Rhysand. It was the fact that so many things could go wrong. You were about to play a role in two murders. Well deserved ones, but murders nonetheless.

Please, You prayed to the Mother. Let us get through this.

You knew it was somewhat pointless, given that Estelle had said you were an incarnate version of the goddess she was. But you could still feel her presence, watching over you as if she, too, feared for what was going to happen.

You knew Eris, Nesta, and Azriel were not far away, cloaked in the darkness by Azriel’s shadows as they waited. But even their presence was not enough to bring you comfort. Your body was sweating with dread, the usually comfortable mattress feeling like rocks as you tossed and turned.

It was going to be a long night.

*********************

It was three hours later when the door creaked open, and you forced yourself to lie still as the unmistakable footsteps of Malgorm entered your room. The sound of a lock closing shut made your blood run cold. He was here.

You pretended to be asleep as you felt Malgorm walk around to the base of your bed. His presence was like a cobra in the dark, poised to strike at any moment, but not quite yet. The anxiety nearly made you tremble as you put on the best sleeping performance of your life.

You felt the covers being viciously yanked off of your body. Your surprised jolt awake wasn’t entirely an act. You blinked several times, panting frantically as your eyes focused on the male before you.

The sight of him made your stomach churn. Malgorm’s expression was nothing but predatory, his eyes practically glowing with glee in the dark as he drank in your nightgown-clad form. “Hello, lovely.” He purred.

You scrambled against the headboard, trying to cover your bare legs. “What are you doing here? It’s late, and your father said–”

“I don’t give a shit about what my father said.” Malgorm growled. “You are mine to do with as I please. Not even he has a say in that.”

You could feel Nesta’s anxiety through the bond, which increased your own. A large hand reached forward and grabbed your ankle, yanking you down to his end of the bed. Your body burned against the sheets as you were dragged towards him, squirming. “Please, don’t hurt me.” You begged.

“Please, don’t hurt me!” Malgorm mocked your voice before laughing and digging his sharp nails into your ankles. “I love it when they beg like that. So pathetic. I will not fuck you tonight, dear wife, that will have to wait until after the wedding I’m afraid. But I can enjoy other types of begging from you until then.”

Malgorm reached into his pocket and drew out the same knife had used the other day on you. In response, the barely healed cuts that littered your skin began to sting, as if he was reopening them all over again. Undoubtedly something he would likely try.

“I said no!” You shouted, bringing up your free leg and mustering all your strength to kick Malgorm between his legs.

The male let out a surprised groan as your foot connected with his groin. You gulped nervously – Eris had said to fight off Malgorm’s advances, but by the murderous look that crossed his face, you knew you had maybe taken it a bit too far.

“You little bitch.” Malgorm snarled furiously, tossing the dagger aside and launching himself at you. You had a split second to prepare yourself for his anger, and then the blows began.

Malgorm’s large form landed on top of you, his knees pinning down your legs as he drew back his fists and began bringing them down on you.

The first blow collided with your stomach, knocking the air out of you. The second one came immediately after, agony lacing your cheek as his knuckles slammed into it. Your body screamed in pain as his fists pummelled you, punching and slapping with tremendous force. Through blurry vision, you saw his amber eyes wild with fury and glee as you squirmed beneath him. It was enough to fuel you with enough anger to finally begin fighting back. He had gotten his blows in, judging from the blood that pooled in your mouth. Now it was time to make the struggle look real.

With a strength you didn’t know you possessed, you freed your left hand and raked your nails across his face, clawing deep enough you felt blood. You screeched furiously as you began meeting his blows with your own, biting and clawing like a creature from hell. Malgorm continued to pummelled you with his fists, but you barely felt it as you savoured the growl of pain he emitted as you fought back, your elbow connecting with his chest.

You couldn’t tell if it had been hours or seconds before a current of silver fire exploded from the corner of the room, sweeping in and curling between your bodies. Malgorm’s weight was lifted off of you, his body thrown into the wall. Flames of silver wrapped around his wrists and legs, pinning him to the surface as he snarled furiously, Flickers of orange stemmed from Malgorm’s fingers, but were quickly smothered by the silver flames.

Through blurry vision, you saw Nesta emerge from the shadows, the dark ribbons peeling away from her body and skirting back to the towering form of Azriel. Hazel and silver eyes glowed in the darkness as Nesta approached Malgorm’s struggling form like a goddess of death, Azriel quietly beside her like the executioner of an ancient queen. Death and darkness, united against Malgorm who could do nothing but sputter angrily.

“You will never touch her again.” Nesta hissed at him, silver flames bathing her body like an otherworldly gown. They danced around her, happy to be unleashed.

“Let me go, cunt!” Malgorm spat.

“You will not speak to my mate that way.” A familiar voice sounded from behind Azriel. Eris peeled out of the shadows, his amber eyes blazing with fury. He came to stand beside Nesta, whose silver flames licked at his fingers, as if they wanted his attention.

“I should have known you were behind this.” Malgorm said furiously. “Once father finds out, he will have your head.”

“Father won’t find out.” Eris said coolly. “Because you won’t be alive to tell him. Actually, I had not even planned on making an appearance to you until I saw your corpse on the floor. But I had to see the look in your eyes when you knew you were going to die.”

“You won’t kill me.”

“No, I won’t. But he will.” Eris stepped aside to let Azriel stalk forward, shadows dancing around his scarred hands as the blade Malgorm had tossed aside gleamed in his hand.

To your delight, Malgorm’s eyes flickered with fear. Azriel had a reputation amongst all courts for his cruelty, it seemed. Even in your half-conscious state, you watched with a shiver of fear for Malgorm as the coldness in Azriel’s eyes made the room nearly freeze over. “Any last words, Malgorm?” Azriel’s voice was soft but lethal, the unmistakable voice of death against the echoing rush of Nesta’s silver fire.

“Father will kill you all.” Malgorm hissed, albeit with a hint of tremble in his voice.

“Beron will be dead before your body even grows cold.” Eris said before nodding at Azriel. Within a heartbeat, the shadowsinger brought the blade up to Malgorm’s neck and plunged it into his throat. It was messy and untrained, the opposite of how Azriel would normally deal a death blow – but it was a deliberate choice, you realised. One to make it look like you truly killed Malgorm.

A sick, gurgling noise echoed throughout the room as the male began choking on his own blood. It gushed from his throat, filling the air with a burnt, coppery stench. After the longest minute of eternity, the light left Malgorm’s eyes as he took his last attempt at a breath, body going limp under Nesta’s silver flames.

Malgorm’s body hit the ground with a thump, his face still twisted in a look of pure hate. The silver fire retreated, going back to Nesta’s fingertips. Not a single mark was left in the room from them, evidence of Nesta’s new control of her magic. You tried to turn your gaze to her, but Azriel blocked your view. The Illyrian crouched down beside you, pity in his hazel eyes as he muttered, “I apologise, this is going to be unpleasant but necessary.”

Before you could wrap your brain around his words, scarred hands filled with dark red blood met your own fingers. Azriel carefully painted Malgorm’s blood on your hands, face, and chest, using his fingers to flick it as if it were paint and you the canvas, creating a splatter effect. You fought the urge to gag at the scent, a single tear falling down your cheek as the adrenaline wore off and the pain from Malgorm’s fists began to take over.

When he was done, Azriel carefully placed the blade next to you, staging the perfect crime scene.

“(Y/N)...” Nesta’s worried voice sounded through your weary blinks, but was cut off by Eris’s sharp voice.

“Az, get her out of here. Now.”

You whimpered, but had only a split second to see the horrified look on Nesta’s face before Azriel’s shadows encased her, whisking her away.

“I know it hurts, love,” Eris said softly, having crouched down beside you. “You were brave, and I am so proud of you.”

And then you felt it.

That tug in your chest that had always led you straight to Nesta and her mind.

Only this time, there was a fork in the path, a new rope to travel down. You felt yourself falling down it, away from the comforting silver clouds of Nesta’s end of the bond and into the red mists. The scent of smoke and evergreens enveloped your senses, and your skin was hot as if you were being bathed in flame.

At the very end of the magical rope, orange flames burned. Your eyes snapped open, suddenly seeing clearly as you met the orange flaming eyes of Eris.

The male at the other end of the rope. The mating bond.

“Eris…” His name felt different on your tongue than the hundreds of other times you had said it. This time, it was like a sacred prayer in a forgotten language was being uttered from your lips, the world itself spinning around you – and not just from the punches to the head that you took.

“I am sorry…” Eris’s voice was soft, and to your confusion, lacked the surprise that was reflected in your own.

Then it hit you. You reached down into the newly snapped bond, feeling the whirlwind of emotions of the flames that surrounded it. There was sadness, fear, and about fifty other different emotions, but not the one that you had expected the most: shock.

Your stomach dropped, and you could barely hear your own voice as you spoke. “You… you knew.” You rasped.

Eris said nothing, only stared down at you with sadness and regret across his pale face.

You sat up, and said stronger this time, “You KNEW? All this time, you knew that you were…” Your voice trailed off, and you swallowed your own blood before uttering the phrase you never thought you’d say to him: “You knew that you’re my mate?”

He did not answer, but his expression said it all.

“YOU KNEW!” You screamed at him hoarsely. “Look me in the fucking eyes and tell me that you knew, all this time, that I was mated to you. And that even after I placed all my trust in you, put my fucking life in your hands, you still kept it from me.” Every word was agony, but you didn’t care.

The prince swallowed, his face breaking. “Yes. I knew.”

Tears flowed down your face. “Since when?”

“Since the Winter Solstice when Azriel took you away.”

You let out a sob, the force of it aching your sore ribs. Each breath was shaky, and you pulled yourself away from the bond, feeling the sting of the action deep within your chest.

Eris had known since the ball in the Hewn City. You had trusted him with your plan, having felt something within that reassured you that you could trust the male. You could never explain it, choosing to justify it with a dozen other reasons. But now you knew why.

Was that the only reason Eris had helped you? Not because he truly cared, but because a mating bond forced him to care? The thought stung, and you recalled every time you had looked at him while in Autumn, and wondered how he could look you in the eyes and pretend he wasn’t keeping this big secret from you.

Once again, Eris Vanserra proved himself a liar.

“(Y/N)...” He began.

You cut him off. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear your excuses or more lies. It doesn’t change the fact that you kept this from me for weeks, for months. You’re a snake, Eris. And you’re no better than your father.”

Eris flinched as if you’d slapped him, a faint pooling of tears forming in his eyes. But you didn’t care, you just kept going.

“Get out.” You growled. “Get the fuck out of my sight. You’re fucking dead to me. I don’t care if you’re my mate. If you were a halfway decent male, you’d have fucking told me about the mating bond. But you’re not. So get out. GET. OUT.” You screamed the last two words at him, and as your vision faded to black you saw a single tear slip down his cheek as Eris stood up and left the room.

You didn’t even feel Saeros and Ivar dragging you to the dungeon.

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autumnshighlady · 3 months

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 19)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Eris helps Nesta conquer her fear of fire

warnings: inner circle slander, MAJOR angst, Cassian hate

word count: 4.2k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: sorry for the short chapter (i mean it's still 4000+ words but its short for me lmao) but I'm already working on the next one but here's a Neris chapter! haven't updated this fic in too long, so I apologize. Enjoy and as always, tell me your thoughts and reactions!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18

read on ao3

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NESTA POV

Nesta gently stroked Athariel’s silver scales as the dragon snaked its head around her, vying for attention. The beast made a low cooing noise at her touch, and Nesta chuckled to herself. She remembered the mix of awe and fear she had felt upon seeing the dragons for the first time. Ancient and mythical beasts beyond her wildest imagination, in the flesh before her very eyes. And yet at this moment, Athariel was acting more like a puppy than a dragon.

“Some fearsome beast you are.” Nesta murmured as Athariel continued to purr lowly. She reached forward to scratch behind the dragon’s right horn, and Athariel responded by closing her eyes and pushing her head further into Nesta’s hand. “Spoiled creature.”

The sweet autumn breeze funnelled into the cave and stroked Nesta’s cheek. It was an unusually cold day. Even the thick wool layers did little to keep out the biting chill that seeped into Nesta’s bones. She shivered slightly, pressing closer to the dragon for warmth.

Eris had left about ten minutes ago to fetch something for today’s training session. As usual, he refused to elaborate, only giving Nesta a playful wink that he knew would send her blood steaming when she asked what he was going to fetch. Every few days, Eris dragged her to the dragon cave to train her magic. Even after her demonstration to Beron, Eris insisted they continue the practice. “Killing my father is going to take a lot more finesse than your display, my dear.” He had explained. “My father is not an idiot. He knows how to defend himself, you do not.”

As much as she hated admitting that she liked spending time with Eris, it pained Nesta to be away from you. Since the announcement of your engagement, you had been constantly pulled away by servants, planners, dress fitters, and courtiers in preparation. It broke her heart, seeing the life slowly drain out of your eyes with each passing day. She saw how you snuck desperate glances at her as you were shuffled off for wedding business, pleading for help through the bond. There was nothing that could compare to the pain of the helplessness she felt. Eris had sternly told her to keep it together, that she had a part to play and couldn’t interfere with your engagement yet. His father would be watching your every move, and if Nesta became too involved then everything would go to hell.

The thought of the two upcoming weddings made Nesta’s stomach churn. While she definitely got the better of Beron’s sons, there were still so many things about Eris that she couldn’t figure out. The Prince always had an angle to play, never revealing his next move until he was certain things would work out in his favour. Nesta could understand why he was helping her. Objectively, their marriage was a strong match. She had been raised by her mother for this exact role – a doting wife who appeased the males of the court, but one with a viper’s tongue who was able to hold her own and get exactly what she wanted. Eris would benefit from it too, having a Cauldron-made female at his side whose powers dwarfed any of those in his court.

But his angle with you was something Nesta couldn’t figure out. Helping you was a huge risk for him, one that placed both you and the Prince in danger. Throwing you out of the Autumn Court and delivering you back to Rhysand would have been the smart move for Eris, as it would have eased the tension between Autumn and Night after Nesta had slipped through Rhysand’s grasp. Helping you was a risk that Nesta couldn’t understand why Eris was so willing to take. She had tried probing him about it a few times, but he had always brushed her off.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Eris strode back into the cave, a bundle of sticks and wood in his arms. He dumped them on the floor, the clattering noise echoing throughout the dragon’s den. Morgoth’s massive dark head appeared from the shadows, emitting a low rumbling noise that shook Nesta’s bones as he sniffed his master. Eris chuckled, saying something to the dragon in a language Nesta did not understand as he stroked its nose.

She frowned at the pile of wood on the floor. “You went out to collect sticks?”

Eris smirked. “Brilliant observation, Nesta Archeron. You never cease to amaze me.”

She shot him a withering glare. “Prick. What do sticks have to do with training my magic?”

“Because it’s hard to train fire-related magic when you’re utterly terrified of fire itself.”

Nesta froze, panic rising in her chest. Athariel nudged her now-still hand, as if sensing her anxiety. But she kept a straight face and said evenly, “I do not know what you mean.”

Eris scoffed, bending down and arranging the sticks. “Oh, please. You flinch every time the hearth is lit. You look like you’ve seen a ghost whenever I use my magic around you. Deny it all you want, but I see right through you, my dear.”

She blanched at his words. His tone was not accusing nor angry, but casual and nonchalant. He wasn’t trying to put her down, but simply pointed out an observation. Nesta’s throat closed up as she realised just how much Eris truly picked up on. Not once did Cassian ever seem to notice how she flinched from every fire he lit, or how her room was always freezing and damp because she refused to use the fireplace. He had been too focused on fucking her to ever truly see through the front she put up.

“You do not have to tell me why,” Eris said, a bit softer this time. “But fear will distract you, and we cannot afford to have you distracted at this time. I will not force you to face this fear if you truly feel that you cannot, but I believe you are able to. You have already overcome so much, Archeron. Let this be just another obstacle.”

His gentle encouragement surprised Nesta, despite having experienced it before. She always found herself comparing his words to Cassian and the Inner Circle’s. The Inner Circle always gave her the illusion of a choice, two bad options with one worse than the other, forcing her to choose the lesser of two evils and end up going with what worked best for their agenda. There was no choice in training with Cassian, it was presented as something she simply had to do.

Eris, on the other hand, always offered her a way out – another option even if it was one that made his life more difficult. He would explain the upsides and downsides to each path with logic, not manipulation. It was something Nesta grew to appreciate. He never backed her into a corner, or wanted her to submit.

She hated how the way she was treated in the Night Court followed her around like a ghost, haunting her every move. Guilt churned in her gut every time she instinctively snapped at Eris, anticipating that she would be forced into something. To his credit, he did not appear phased by her reactions and would wave off any apologies. It was something the Inner Circle had never understood about her. Nesta’s life had been taken out of her hands when she was snatched in the middle of the night and forced into the Cauldron. She did not choose to become fae, and now suddenly she had an immortal life ahead of her and no idea what to do with it. Yet her choices in the Night Court were never her own. Someone always decided what was best for her, rather than letting her figure out this transition at her own pace.

But Eris always gave her a choice. Nesta knew Eris wanted her to overcome her fear of fire for everyone’s sake, and she trusted him enough by now that she knew if she said no, he would drop the subject rather than push her buttons. So she took a breath, staring at the pile of sticks the Prince had assembled. “Ok,” She said. “I’ll do it.”

*********************

Half an hour later, Nesta’s breath was slightly less shaky. Her back was pressed against Athariel’s silver neck, the heated scales of the dragon adding extra warmth against the damp autumn chill. A small orange fire blazed a few feet in front of her, that haunting snapping noise echoing throughout the cave. It took every ounce of self control Nesta had to not panic, taking deep breaths to try and push down the bile in her throat.

Eris sat beside her, his arm ever so slightly grazing hers. He had spent the past thirty minutes monologuing about anything and everything, a welcome distraction to help Nesta focus on something else other than the crackling of the fire. He told all types of stories, ranging from tales of the ancient beings in Prythian to recounting the time Lucien accidentally killed Eris’s favourite fish by taking it out of the water to get fresh air. Nesta had not chimed in, but let out a snort at the latter story. She had seen Eris smile out of the corner of her eye. A true smile, not his usual arrogant smirk. It made her heart flutter, seeing the autumn Prince so relaxed.

As time passed, the less Nesta flinched at the noises from the fire. Her body began to relax, and she saw less of her father’s face across her mind and began to appreciate the beauty of the orange flames. They still unsettled her and if she could smite them out this second she would. But she no longer felt the urge to crawl out of her own skin.

“... And I ate every last bit of that so-called ‘birthday cake’ Lucien made,” Eris rambled on, following another story about him and his youngest brother. “It was ghastly. Every bite made me want to hurl my guts up, but my brother looked so young and proud of his creation that I couldn’t hurt his feelings. Although he has always been a slippery little bastard, so part of me wondered if he was just playing innocent and deliberately made me a disgusting cake on purpose to see if I loved him enough to pretend it was good.”

Nesta laughed, truly laughed at that. She turned her head to meet Eris’s gaze. He made no jibing remark about how rare a laugh like that was for her, like Cassian would have done. He simply smiled, the orange light of the fire casting artful shadows across his pale skin.

“Eris,” Nesta began hesitantly, the noise of the fire fading into the background. “Can I ask you something?”

The heir shrugged. “I am an open book, Nesta Archeron. Ask away.”

She snorted. “Ok, well we both know that’s not true.”

“If you want to know my deepest darkest secrets, my dear, all you have to do is ask.” Eris purred. Nesta’s blood heated at his velvety voice, and she pushed herself to focus.

“What happened to Lucien?” She asked. “I was never told much about him, even by (Y/N). All I know is that he was in the Spring Court with Feyre when she was there, and he was in that room in Hybern with the Cauldron. And that he’s Elain’s mate and is now bouncing between the mortal lands and the Night Court.”

Eris sighed. “It’s complicated, Nesta.”

“I’m just trying to understand his role in all of this.”

“Including if he would be a good mate to your sister, am I correct?”

Nesta swallowed her sadness. She had tried not to think about Elain these past few weeks. The memory of finding out Elain had been the one to pack up what little belongings she had in her apartment stung like a fresh wound. “No,” She corrected Eris. “Because I appear to be the only one from the Night Court who likes to think of him as his own person, not just Elain’s mate. Who Elain chooses to be with is no longer my concern.”

Eris nodded. “Very well. Lucien is the youngest of my brothers, and my father was especially cruel to him. What I am about to tell you cannot leave this cave, understood?”

Nesta nodded, curious.

“Lucien is not my father’s son. My mother had an affair with Helion, the High Lord of the Day Court. I figured it out quickly, but my mother always denied it. My father had suspicions but no proof, so he took every opportunity he could to punish Lucien. He hated that Lucien never cared about his royal status, and that he frequently made friends with individuals that my father deemed unworthy – (Y/N) included. One day, he met a lesser faerie named Jesminda. When my father found out about it, he had two of my brothers hold Lucien back as he executed Jesminda right in front of him.”

Nesta chose her words carefully. “Were you… were you there?”

Eris looked at her sharply. “Yes, I was. But I refused my fathers request to kill Jesminda, so he did it himself. It is the only thing I have ever refused him, even to this day. And I paid the price for it.”

“What did he do to you?”

“That matters not. Once I was released from the dungeons, my spies informed me that my father was planning on killing Lucien. I knew my brother was smart and would flee to the Spring Court, so I alerted Tamlin to the situation. Tamlin found Lucien at the border and killed two of my three brothers that had been sent after him to slaughter Lucien on our father’s orders.”

Nesta picked at a thread on her sleeve and asked dryly, “Let me guess, Malgorm was the one who escaped Tamlin’s claws?”

Eris snorted humourlessly. “Yes. Somehow, Malgorm always finds a way to escape death. It’s incredibly annoying.”

“Does Lucien know what you did for him?”

“No. He does not. And it does not matter if he did know, it would not change his hatred for me.”

A sadness overtook Eris’s eyes that pained Nesta. With a sick feeling in her gut, she knew looking at Eris was like looking in a mirror. Two eldest children with a cruel parent, twisted and moulded into their parent’s perfect creation. Nesta knew that Feyre would always see her as their mother’s favourite, but never knew just how much Nesta suffered underneath her. How Nesta would plead to the universe every night that their mother would turn her attention elsewhere because neglect was better than cruelty to her. Feyre did not know that her grandmother had beaten her, or that her mother had pulled Nesta’s hair until she cried and deprived her of meals to keep her thin. Nesta had never told her, not only for fear of showing weakness, but because she knew that Feyre had been so neglected she wouldn’t truly be able to understand that their mother’s attention was not something to be desired.

And Eris was the same. All the tales Nesta had heard of him portrayed the male as a worse version of Beron, a perfect eldest son and soldier for the High Lord to wield like a sword. But he had done so much to protect his younger brother, and just like Nesta, had never told him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to fully understand it. They were both disliked by their youngest sibling for being their parent’s prized pupils, oblivious to the whole story. Even though Eris had not answered her question, Nesta knew that what Beron had put him through was a thousand times worse than anything her mother had done. Deep down, she knew that Eris was just as broken as she was. Their main difference was Eris had centuries of practice in masking it, whereas Nesta did not.

“You’re not a bad male, Eris.” Nesta said softly, her gaze lost in the warm amber of his eyes.

“You hardly know me.” His voice was bitter, the aloof arrogant mask he wore threatening to slide up and hide the vulnerability Nesta had seen in his face moments ago. “I’ve done horrible things in the name of my father, Nesta. Things that would make you run back to the Night Court if you knew.”

“I don’t judge people for what they had to do to survive.” Nesta insisted, her voice even. “You may have your own secret agenda, Eris, but you’ve treated me better than most people have in a long, long time. Do not think I don’t appreciate that.”

Eris laughed, and the haunted look was shoved from his face. “My dear, how you have been treated is appalling, even to me. Let’s not have that be the standard, I beg you.”

“How do you know I didn’t deserve it?” Nesta said before she could stop herself. It simply slipped out, the guilt that had been shoved down her throat by the Inner Circle ever since she became fae entrapping her words once again. It was an exhausting uphill battle. Every day, she told herself that she was right to flee the Night Court, to try and make a life for herself outside Velaris. But every day those seeds of doubt wriggled their way into her thoughts, trapping her inside a web of self hatred that she had fought so hard to get out of.

“Seriously?” Eris said incredulously, eyebrows raised. He shifted so he was facing Nesta, and he took her still trembling hands in his own. “Tell me, what criminal, abhorrent offence have you committed to warrant being treated like shit and locked up?”

Nesta’s throat was dry. “I didn’t try and help my family like Feyre did when we were in poverty.”

Eris shook his head. “You are the eldest daughter, not the parent. It was not your responsibility to provide for your family.”

“I was mean to Feyre on several occasions.”

“You’re sisters, that’s supposed to happen. You should hear the vicious things my brothers and I say to each other.”

“I spent a ton of Rhys’s money on alcohol, drinking myself stupid every night.”

“Please, that male has more money than anyone I know, my dear. I assure you his bank account was not dented in the slightest.”

“I slept my way through the city after the war.”

“Everyone in that little Inner Circle has fucked more fae than anyone I know. Your number is nothing compared to theirs.” Eris said calmly. “All I’m hearing is that a newly turned fae female was traumatised after being dragged into a brutal war she did not ask for, and found unhealthy yet very normal ways of coping. So tell me again, what actual horrid thing have you done to deserve any of this?”

Tears filled Nesta’s eyes as she listed her sins, the crackling of the fire fading into the background. She knew Eris was right, his logical mind soothing her anxious one. Talking about it with Eris was different than talking about it with you. You had been just as angry as Nesta had, forced into the same situation as her and kept in the House of Wind against your will, the Inner Circle using the fact that they had saved both your lives as leverage to make you do what they wanted. You were someone who Nesta could rant to about it and get angry, letting that hatred she felt out to someone who knew exactly what she meant. But Eris was different. He rationalised her thoughts, providing a different kind of reassurance.

She couldn’t stop the tears that fell down her cheeks. Nesta bit her wobbling lip, trying to keep more from spilling out. Eris released one of her hands, bringing it up to her face and gently brushing the tears away. “They’ve done a number on you, haven’t they?” He murmured softly, cupping her cheek. “What are you thinking right now, Nesta Archeron?”

Nesta inhaled deeply, pressing her face slightly harder into Eris’s warm hand. The smell of smoke and forest engulfing her senses. “That I am scared,” She admitted. “For so many reasons. I am scared that Cassian will find me and steal me back to Velaris. That everything we’ve done has all been for nothing. I’m scared that your father will find us out somehow and kill us all. I’m scared for (Y/N) and her engagement to your awful brother. And I hate myself, Eris. I hate myself for who I’ve become not just because I am now fae, but because the person I was before the Cauldron would not have given in and trained with Cassian. I… I am afraid that with this new immortality ahead of me I will not recognize the girl I used to be, and not in a good way. I hate that I have let the words of people who barely know me cut this deeply, and I am ashamed of it.”

Eris continued to use his thumb to brush away the fresh tears on her cheeks. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “You have had a difficult hand dealt to you, Nesta.” Eris said softly. “And they should have known better. Do not be ashamed. For anything. Just know you have (Y/N), just as you have me. We will not let the Night Court take you, I swear on my mother’s life. Your mate cares for you, and I… I care for you, too.”

Nesta opened her mouth to respond, but a strange sensation in her chest stopped her. It suddenly felt like she was falling through space, the stars overhead spinning around her as she plummeted towards a strange light. She gasped, and felt Eris tense up as well. In her mind, she saw her silver flames dancing towards orange ones. They intertwined, braiding together and forming a magical rope-like appearance. Nesta reached down in her mind, her heartbeat racing as she grabbed a hold of it. She peered down to where the flames had extended to, seeing a flaming silhouette on the other end, her silver flames surrounding it affectionately.

And so she reached forward, extending a mental hand into that flaming silhouette.

And Eris gasped.

Nesta’s eyes shot open, and she lurched back from the Autumn Prince’s touch. Eris’s face was ghostly pale, and he was panting as if he had just fought off a hundred soldiers at once. Athariel hissed behind her, not happy to be awoken by the sudden movement. Her mouth was dry. She had felt this feeling before, but with you. That flaming rope she had followed felt the same as the pull of the tattoo on her sternum.

The mating bond.

The flaming silhouette at the other end of the magical rope was Eris Vanserra. Nesta’s mind reeled, her body threatening to combust with the feeling inside her chest. She could only stare at the male before her in shock.

Estelle said fae can have more than one mate, but Cassian is not one of yours. Your words rang in Nesta’s head like a bell, making her feel dizzy. No, she thought. This isn’t possible. You were her mate, how could this happen? There was still that strange feeling in her chest from Cassian, which confused her even more. The feeling of one mating bond within her was overwhelming enough, but two? Nesta didn’t know if she could survive it.

“Eris…” His voice was like a prayer on her lips, sounding completely different than the previous hundred times she had said it. It was like a song, carrying over to the shaken autumn prince and snapping him out of his trance.

“Nesta.” Her blood sang at the sound of her name, silver flames sparking from her fingertips in response.

“Like calls to like…” She muttered, recalling Eris’s repetition of the phrase. And then it dawned on her. Eris had consistently told her that like calls to like, and she had thought he was talking about their similarities in magic.

Fury rose within her, drowning out everything else. “Did you know?” She hissed at Eris.

The male’s eyes were wide, and he stuttered. “I–”

“Did you fucking know?” Nesta growled. “Is this the only reason you agreed to help us? So you could use the bond to trap me. Is that what you wanted? To keep me prisoner here, just like your father did to your mother?”

Eris blanched, flinching like he had been struck. Nesta felt it, the blow of her words, as if she had been punched in the chest. “I swear, I did not know.” Eris pleaded. “Nesta, please, you have to trust me. I had no idea about this.”

Nesta rose to her feet, her entire body shaking. She climbed onto Athariel’s back, nudging the dragon forward with her heels. Athariel grumbled, but got to her feet and began to crawl out of the cave. Her hands shook as she held onto the dragon’s horns. She stared down at Eris, who appeared paralyzed in shock as he looked up at her. Nesta’s voice was cold as ice as she said, “I don’t believe you.”

And as Athariel spread her wings and took to the sky, Nesta had not noticed the fire had gone out completely.

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autumnshighlady · 2 months

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 23)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: continuation of the last chapter

warnings: nothing but pure angst tbh

word count: 4.8k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i was debating letting y'all stew on the cliffhanger for a week or so but after killing Lirilla I figured that'd be too mean. So anywho, here's the next part...

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20

read on ao3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

The world stopped turning as Eris’s screams ripped through the air. Grief tore through Eris’s end of the bond like a current, threatening to spill over and consume you. The Prince fell to his knees, crawling towards his mother’s body. Nesta’s grey eyes were wide with horror, her hand over her mouth as she shrunk back. It wasn’t hard to figure out just how easily this reminded her of her own father’s death.

You were utterly paralyzed with shock, jaw slack as your gaze remained glued on the lifeless body of the Lady of Autumn. Her russet eyes were dull, the warmth that she had gazed at you with as she tried to comfort you was completely gone. Her collarbone jutted out beneath her thin, pale skin. Only then did you notice how small, how frail she truly was. It was as if the life had been sucked from her body long before her husband snapped her neck.

Beron stood over Lirilla’s body, staring down at Eris with disgust. There was no remorse on his face, as if he hadn’t just murdered his wife to spite his eldest son. Eris wept, pale hands trembling as he cradled Lirilla’s face in them. He pressed his forehead into hers, gut-wrenching sobs shredding at your heart as you watched the normally stone-cold male wailing over his mother’s body. It was as if he was a child again, desperately clinging to his mother in search of some feeling of comfort from her lifeless form.

“You’re sick.” Nesta’s voice was a broken whisper, laced with hatred as she met the eyes of the High Lord. There was no sign of those glorious silver flames, as if they, too, had given up all hope. Eris had stopped sobbing, his eyes glassy and numb as he laid over his mother’s body, wrapping his arms around her small form.

Beron only smiled sickly. “I told him countless times, his soft spot for his wench of a mother would be his downfall. I am making him stronger, this way. He will not be burdened by doltish feelings anymore.”

“You’d murder his mother and let his own mate get killed just to prove a point?” Nesta said, looking as if she was going to throw up. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to look away as you leaned into Azriel for support. At this point, you weren’t sure if your legs would support you any longer.

That otherworldly High Lord power thrummed from Beron as he spoke. “Precisely. Now here’s what’s going to happen. Eris is the only son I have left who is not a whimpering fool. Despite his scheming, I will not allow myself to be without an heir. It would weaken me and this court, and I will not have that happen. You are to kneel before me and swear fealty to me, in perpetuity. After you serve your punishment, all will be forgiven. This marriage will resume. The other girl will die, and you and my son will wear these for the rest of your lives.”

The dread that rippled through your body at Beron’s promise of your demise was quickly replaced by a newfound horror as the High Lord snapped his fingers, and two objects appeared in his hands. They were golden torques, a sharp arrow at each end poised towards where Nesta and Eris’s throats would be. From the second they appeared, you felt a darkness creep into the room. And by the way Nesta flinched, she could feel it too. There was a sentience to them, as if they were speaking to you in an ancient tongue, each word coming out as a demonic hiss.

“What the hell are those?” Nesta muttered, her breathing shallow.

“My insurance policy,” Beron smirked. “A way of ensuring you never even think of pulling a stunt like this again.”

Something clicked in your brain as you recognized what the torques were. Fear hit you like an icy wave, and you frantically reached out to Nesta. Don’t let him put those around your neck, You mind-spoke to her. Whatever you do, do not put it on. I’ve read about objects like these. They come from another world and will enslave you to Beron. Your free will would be gone and you will become his puppet with no way out.

You vividly recalled finding the ancient scroll in the House of Wind’s library. It was nearly completely faded, but with Gwyn’s help you managed to make out the text. It spoke of another universe, one infested with demons that used dark objects like rings and collars to enslave and possess people with dark magic, allowing a new host to take over. From the way Beron smirked at Nesta and Eris, it was clear that the objects in his hand possessed the same properties.

How the hell he managed to get his hands on something like this, you didn’t know.

“Now kneel before me, both of you.” Beron continued coldly. “And beg for forgiveness.”

Nesta looked back to you, desperation in her eyes. You only stared back hopelessly, knowing there was nothing either of you could do at this point. You slumped against Azriel, the Illyrian still as a statue, shadows swirling around protectively. His siphons continued to glow, but you knew Beron wouldn’t break a sweat ripping through his shield.

It was over.

All your planning, everything you’d done to get to this point, was all for nothing. Beron was about to kill you and enslave Nesta and Eris for eternity.

“Leave.” You muttered to Azriel softly. “There’s no use in you dying with me. Get out of here.”

You felt oddly calm in the face of death. Even though you were utterly powerless in this situation, you could at least make sure that Azriel was able to get out. He had helped you enough, you weren’t about to let him be dragged down with you.

But the shadowsinger’s voice was firm as he spoke. “Don’t,” He said sternly. “I will not let you get killed.”

You sighed as his shadows curled around your fingers reassuringly, as if they were trying to provide some form of comfort. You took one last look at Nesta and Eris before closing your eyes.

“No.” Eris’s hoarse voice echoed throughout the chamber, making your eyes snap open.

With one last sorrowful glance at his mother’s body, Eris pushed himself up. Amber eyes steeled with determination as he stared down his father.

“What did you just say to me?” Beron growled.

“I said,” Eris’s voice strengthened. “No.”

The High Lord scoffed. “Wipe those tears off your face before you speak to me, boy. Love is weakness, your mother’s death is on your hands–”

Beron didn’t get to finish his sentence before the ground shook beneath you and angry orange fire erupted from Eris. Pure, unfiltered power filled the room as Eris let out a godly cry, flames rippling off of him in waves. It wrapped around Beron, smothering the High Lord’s every attempt to fight back.

Beron may have more experience and magic, but it was no match for Eris’s rage.

The dark cell was lit up in an orange light as Eris was enveloped in his own flames. They swirled around him like a suit of armour, different shades of red yellow and orange blazing furiously. Beron screeches as the waves of fire smothered him, burning his aged skin layer by layer.

You saw Nesta step towards him, silver flame in hand, ready to join the fight.

No, You said to her. Eris needs to do this on his own.

She paused, then nodded, taking a step back.

Eris’s fire was relentless, surging into his father with all their might. His lip was drawn back in a snarl as he continued to cast his flames into Beron, burning the male alive. He looked like a flaming god, a phoenix of hell sent to remake the world with his fire. You covered your ears with your hands, trying to block out the sickening screams of Beron. Instead of watching, you buried your face into Azriel’s side. As much as you hated Beron, this was not something that you wanted to bear witness to.

The roar of the fire was thunderous, threatening to overwhelm all your senses. It shook your very bones like an earthquake. Only when you felt it cease, did you finally open your eyes.

There was a pile of ash where Beron Vanserra once stood, the gut-churning smell of burnt flesh potent in the air. Angry scorch marks adorned the walls and floor from where Eris’s flames had been minutes ago as they had relentlessly torn away at the High Lord. Eris was doubled over on the floor, Nesta crouching by his side.

“Eris?” She asked worriedly as the male gasped.

A soft glow emitted from Eris’s skin, and he writhed in agony as new power flowed through him. The power of a High Lord.

You watched in awe as the scent of raw magic filled your senses, its coppery taste in your mouth as you breathed it in. You could see Eris’s veins through his pale skin, shining like gold as his body was encapsulated in magic. After a minute, he stopped moving. You could hear his heartbeat, so slow it made you break out of Azriel’s arms and rush forward.

You called out his name, crouching down beside Nesta and putting a hand on the autumn male’s arm. Immediately, you jerked it back. His skin was burning hotter than anything you had felt. He was utterly still, almost dead looking beside his mother.

As a final resort, you opened up that part of the bond you had tried to seal shut. Eris? You called out to it. A powerful hum pulsed in response, unlike anything you had ever felt before. You could feel Eris on the other end – different than before, but your Eris nonetheless.

You felt Nesta’s presence too, her silver mist of the bond reaching down towards Eris as well. In the distance, through that mental bridge you could see a faint silhouette writhed in orange flame. You extended a hand towards it through the bond, reaching out for Eris. Nesta did the same, and together, you reached down the bond and grasped onto Eris, giving a gentle but firm pull.

Amber eyes shot open and Eris gasped for breath as he woke.

“Thank the Mother.” You muttered. As much as you were mad at Eris for keeping the bond a secret, you couldn’t imagine what you’d have felt if he didn’t wake up. For him to die thinking you hated him… it was something you couldn’t handle.

With the help of you and Nesta, Eris rose to his feet. A new aura of power surrounded him, the unmistakable magic of a new High Lord.

Beron was dead, and his magic had chosen Eris.

“Are you really…” Nesta asked, grey eyes scanning Eris up and down. “High Lord?”

Eris nodded, unable to speak. But the powerful glow in his eyes faded as his gaze landed on Lirilla’s body, still crumpled on the floor. “It doesn’t matter.” He muttered. “He killed her. With his bare hands.”

Your heart broke even more hearing the defeat in his voice. This was a moment Eris should have been celebrating – it was something he spent years trying to achieve, yet he paid a price for it.

No. You wouldn’t let it end like this.

Carefully, you let go of Eris and walked over to Lirilla’s body. You knelt down beside it, brushing the auburn hair from her pale face.

“What are you doing?” Nesta asked, confused.

“I want to try something.” You responded. Not bothering to explain, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You pictured that clearing in the village, the one in a dream-like state where you first met Estelle.

Please, Estelle, You called out to her. I need you right now.

Truthfully, you had no idea if this would work. Your conversation with the goddess could have been a one time thing. But you couldn’t imagine Eris risking everything to help you, only to lose his mother for good in the process.

After a few minutes of pleading, you felt your eyes open. But you were no longer in the dark dungeons of Autumn. Instead, you were on a bench in your village clearing, a gentle white mist covering the surroundings. You felt light and weightless, all aches and pains of your body having vanished.

“Hello, my child.” Came the familiar voice of Estelle.

You whipped your head to the side as the mists parted, the Mother goddess walking through towards you. Her white robes floated around her, eyes shining with starlight as her gaze landed on you. You bowed your head respectfully, and she laughed.

“There is no need for that.” Estelle said softly as she came to stand in front of you.

“Sorry.” You muttered, straightening your back. “But I really need your help.”

The goddess smiled sadly. “I know what you are going to ask of me. But I cannot bring the Lady Lirilla back.”

“I know,” You continued, taking a deep breath. “But I was wondering if I could. After all, you said that when Hybern attacked my village, I absorbed the life force of everyone that died, and that it became a power I could use to wield.”

Estelle did not say anything. She only stared at you with an unreadable expression.

“Please,” You begged, voice breaking. “She’s Eris’s mother.”

“My child,” Estelle’s voice was gentle but firm. “Lirilla suffered a hard life. Even if she were to be brought back, she would have a lot of trauma to deal with. Letting her rest may be the kinder path.”

“No.” You said sternly. “After everything she went through she deserves a chance. Feyre Archeron was brought back, as were Rhys and Amren during the war. How is it fair that they get to be brought back after death and Lirilla doesn’t?”

“Not everything is meant to be fair.”

You stood up, facing the goddess with a steeled expression. Anger boiled in your gut at her refusal to help. “Look,” You snapped. “I came here asking you for guidance, not permission. I may be an incarnate version of you, but I am not tied to your decisions. This is my power to do with as I please, so I am asking you once again: could I use it to bring her back?”

You half expected Estelle to get angry and send you back to reality, but she just looked at you with a sombre expression. “So young, so determined.” She muttered. “You remind me of myself when I was your age, all those millenia ago. I will not stop you, but it is not simple. In order to bring Lirilla back, you must do a trade – find a soul who died that day in your village who is willing to give up their eternity of peace. While you can bend this power of life to your will, the life forces of those who you absorbed still belong to them.”

“A soul for a soul.” You muttered.

“Yes. That is the only way you can bring her back in a manner that does not utilise dark magic and risk severe consequences.”

“Ok. How do I find a soul then?”

Estelle smiled softly, putting a soft hand on your cheek. “You have been so brave and endured so much.” She murmured. “Good luck, my child. May we meet again.”

“Wait–” Your protest died off as her starry image faded into the mist. You huffed angrily, wringing your hands together. Time was running out – you had no idea how long you would stay here, but you were determined to make the most of it.

Gathering your wits, you stepped through the mist along the path that led to the heart of your village. Your feet made no noise on the ground, as if you were a ghost. Eventually, the mist began to lighten, and you heard lively chatter in the distance.

You broke into a full on sprint, racing towards the noise. As you went through the archway of your village entrance, the sight before you made you stop dead in your tracks.

Children were playing games under the large willow tree, their laughter echoing on the gentle breeze. Elderly couples sat on the benches, content to enjoy the sunshine. Smells of freshly baked bread and rich flowers filled your nostrils, and your eyes watered. Your village was lively again, the faces of those you had seen bloody and dead now filled with life as they once were.

“Hey, bitch!” The familiar husky voice of your best friend Sapphyra sounded in your ear as strong arms wrapped around you.

Nothing could stop the tears that flowed down your cheeks as you felt Sapphyra hug you. Sobs wracked your body as you clung onto her, savouring every inch of her presence. Her dark hair was pulled back in its usual braid, her muscles even leaner than when she was alive.

“It’s you…” You sobbed. “I can’t believe it’s you. Last time I say you–”

“Hush,” She said gently, pulling away and holding you by your shoulders, as if sensing you needed grounding. “We don’t talk about that here. None of us speak of the day we died. It’s not something any of us wants to remember.”

You wiped your tears away. Your heart swelled, seeing her filled with life again.

“I know why you’re here.” Sapphyra said. “You want one of us to trade our souls to bring Eris’s mother back.”

You nodded. “I can’t let her go, Sapphyra.”

“I know. But there’s something you should know. Whoever helps you bring her back will lose their spot in the afterlife. If Lirilla dies, that soul will not return here. They will be gone forever.”

You blanched, guilt prickling your heart. “How am I supposed to ask anyone here to do that for me? It’s not fair to them.”

She smiled. “I don’t think you’ll have to ask. We’ve all been watching you, rooting for you on our end of the universe. There will be somebody who is willing to give up their spot in eternity to help you. I promise.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Now, enough of me. You only have so much time here, so make the most of it.” Sapphyra clapped you on the back, pushing you towards the crowd that had gathered at your arrival.

You spent the next few minutes receiving more hugs than you ever had in your entire life. Fae of all ages holding your hand, wishing you the best and saying how proud they were of you. You did not idle for small talk, knowing Sapphyra was right. You only had so much time.

A familiar male made his way through the crowd, a tender smile on his face. “Hey, kiddo.” He said softly.

Your throat closed up. “Father…”

You leapt into his arms, clinging onto him like a child on their first day of school. He hugged you tightly, your tears staining the pale green tunic he wore as you sobbed into him.

“I am so proud of you.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head. “You have fought so hard. Harder than you should have to.”

“I’m tired, dad.” You said quietly. “I’m so tired.”

“I know. But the hardest part is over. You just have to figure out how to move forward.”

You let go of his embrace, staring up at his green eyes sorrowfully. “I miss you.”

He smiled. “I miss you, too. But there’s someone else who wants to see you, and you don’t have much time. Go to the house. She’s waiting for you.”

Your father patted you on the back, gently steering you in the direction of your family cottage a few feet away. It took everything in you not to turn back for one more glance at him as you made your way up the steps and pushed open the door.

There, in the living room of your cottage, stood your mother. A soft smile on her face, devoid of the blood and gore you had last seen on it as she died. It was the straw that broke you, and you crumpled to the floor in front of her. “Mama…” Was all you could choke out as she wrapped her arms around you.

“It’s okay, honey. I’m here.” She murmured, stroking your hair. “Oh, my sweet girl…”

You didn’t know how long you stayed in her embrace. It felt like forever, but not long enough as she gently pried you off of her.

“There’s so much I want to say, but we don’t have the time.” Your mother said urgently as you leaned into her touch, afraid to let go. “You came here to save another person from losing their mother, did you not?”

You nodded.

“I may not have been able to help stop any of the horrible things that happened to you,” She said sorrowfully. “But I can help you with this. Let me be the soul who will bring the Lady of Autumn back.”

Your heart dropped. “No.” You said firmly. “Sapphyra told me that whoever helps me will lose their spot here in the afterlife. If I die I won’t see you again.”

She smiled, eyes lined with tears. “I know that, my love.”

“But you’re finally at peace.” You sobbed harder.

“Which will be for nothing if I do not use it to help my daughter.” Your mother insisted. “I know what it’s like to lose a mother. And so do you. And so does Nesta. If we can spare Eris that pain too, that is a sacrifice I will gladly make for your mate.”

You took in a shaky breath. “Me, Nesta, and Eris… all being mates. You don’t disapprove or think it’s weird?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No, I do not. I think you deserve all the love this world has to offer you. I am happy for you, (Y/N). And I want you to live a long and happy life with both your mates at your side.”

As much as you wanted to bring Lirilla back, your heart shattered all over again at the thought of losing your mother twice. “Please…” You cried. “Please don;t leave me again.”

“I will never leave you,” She promised. “By doing this, I will be even closer to you than I am now. I will always be with you.”

“Will she know it’s you?”

“No, she will not know whose soul brought her back. But you will. And you’ll have a piece of me with you down there in Autumn.”

Your head ached from the tears you had been shedding. Your kind, selfless mother was willing to trade a peaceful eternity with her husband and community, all so your mate could have his own mother.

You wanted to say no, to demand somebody else does it. But you remembered Estelle’s words, how a soul had to be given willingly. Your mother offering her own as a trade was your only chance.

“Are you sure?” You asked, cherishing the sight of her kind face for the last time of your immortal life.

Your mother nodded. “A thousand percent.”

You could barely get the words out. “Then tell me what I need to do.”

“In a minute, you will go back to your world. I will fade into a ball of light, summoned into your hands. I want you to press it to Lirilla’s heart, use your magic to push it into her body. I will do the rest. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. It’s time now. Come here.” She pulled you into one last hug, the final embrace your mother would ever be able to give you in her current form, even if you died one day and joined your people here in the afterlife. Her comforting scent of jasmine surrounded you as you clung onto her.

A gentle, white light began to glow from her skin, and you sobbed harder as you felt her slowly begin to slip away.

“I love you.” Were the last words to leave her lips as the light consumed you both, and you tumbled back into darkness.

*********************

When you opened your eyes again, the stifling smell of the dungeon washed away the blissful memories of the village. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and your vision focused finally. Nesta and Eris were crouched across from you on the other side of Lirilla’s body.

“(Y/N)?” Eris asked. “Where did you go just now?”

You didn’t say anything, too tired to even try and explain. You looked down at the Lady of Autumn, laying on her back in front of you. And then you felt it – that warm, jasmine scented presence compacted into a ball of light in your hand. Slowly, you uncurled your fist to reveal it, and its soft light filled the room.

Nesta’s eyes widened. “What is that…”

“My mother…” You choked out, curling your other hand over top of the small bulb of light. “She offered her soul in exchange… it’s to bring your mother back.”

Eris’s jaw went slack. “(Y/N)...”

“Don’t…” You cut him off, not wanting to cry again. “Don’t make this harder. Let me do this for you, please.”

The new High Lord paused for a moment, then nodded, sorrow filling his eyes as he observed your tear stained cheeks. You took a shaking breath, pressing your light-filled hands to Lirilla’s chest, just above her heart.

A soft sound like a dewdrop hitting a puddle echoed throughout the dungeon, and you closed your eyes and willed the light to spread.

And spread it did.

A white glow washed under Lirilla’s skin, expanding from her heart down her arms and legs, before finally coming over her face. The scent of jasmine and starlight filled the air, a bittersweet reminder of what this had cost. A gentle breeze caressed your cheek, its presence unmistakable.

Thank you for letting me do this. It seemed to say.

As the light faded, the Lady of Autumn’s eyes opened as she inhaled a breath of life. You fell back, breath shuddering as the world spun slightly. Your legs were wobbly as you pushed yourself back up. You staggered backwards into Azriel, who helped you regain your balance. You turned to thank him, but his hazel eyes were fixed on the scene before him, utterly shocked.

Eris let out a cry of relief, reaching forward and grabbing his mother’s hands, which now were bright with warmth. “Mother?”

“Eris?” Lirilla croaked, looking around frantically. “Your father…”

“He’s gone.” Eris said through tears. “I killed him. You don’t ever have to be afraid of him again.”

Lirilla’s eyes widened, and she sat up with the help of Eris and Nesta. “I… I was dead, wasn’t I? He killed me. How…”

While Nesta helped the Lady of Autumn stabilise herself, Eris walked over to you. Your throat was dry, your legs so weak you relied on Azriel to help hold you upright. Between the mental exhaustion of your ordeal and the physical toll the magic took, you were utterly spent. But you met his gaze, wanting to say a hundred things to him at once. But nothing came out.

The new High Lord dropped to his knees before you, grabbing your hands and pressing his forehead against them. “I am indebted to you for the rest of our eternal lives, (Y/N).” He said. “There are no words in any tongues I know to properly thank you for what you did. For what you sacrificed to do this for me. I…” His voice trailed off.

You crouched down in front of him, gently removing your hands from his and cupping his face. “You’re my mate, Eris.” You said softly. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

As you wrapped your arms around the sobbing male, you felt the glow of the mating bond in your chest, brighter and stronger than ever. Nesta appeared beside you, pulling both you and Eris into her arms as she let out a sigh of relief.

You felt the bond between you and her glow, too. Each rope led to the two fae in your arms, all glowing with equal strength and passion. There was no faltering, no weakness of one bond over the other. They were all the same – all pure, unfiltered love.

As Eris pressed his head into your chest, you leaned your own head on Nesta’s shoulder, the presence of your two mates soothing the raw ache in your chest from your mother’s sacrifice.

You did well, child, Came Estelle’s faint voice in your head. Everything will be okay.

#ialtpwf #neris #neris x reader #nesta archeron #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x nesta archeron #nesta x eris #nesta archeron x reader #nesta archeron fic #pro nesta archeron #pro nesta #autumn court #acosf au #anti rhysand #neris fic

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autumnshighlady · 5 months

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I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 17)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: reunion time

warnings: Night Court slander, anti Rhysand

word count: 5.9k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i am SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES! It's been almost 4 months since the last chapter yikes. Life got crazy then I got into a horrible writing block and this is the first thing I've written since July. I'll admit it sucks and is definitely a filler chapter but I promise more exciting stuff to come x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 /

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For the first time in weeks, your eyes open to rays of sunshine instead of cold darkness. Warm, rich scents flooded your senses, so vastly different from the stifling air of the prison cell you had become accustomed to. Instead of smelling damp, cold stone, you were greeted with the smell of fir trees and fresh air. Your limbs felt lighter, the weight of the chains that had been shackled to your wrists for ages long forgotten.The soft touch of a heavy blanket wrapped around you like an embrace, hugging your body.

You squinted at the harshness of the light, eyes not quite used to the brightness of the sun. You groaned and rolled over to get away from the luminous glow, but felt your body collide with something on the bed. After a couple blinks, your eyes began to focus on the lithe figure sitting next to you.

“Nesta…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, her name like a prayer on your mouth as she came into view. Nesta’s tall frame was seated cross-legged next to you, clad in a deep green gown with a wide neckline adorned with a lacy pattern of gold flowers. Her hands were clasped together tightly, resting upon her skirts. Her sharp face was muddled with concern, slate grey eyes hollow like her mind was elsewhere.

But they snapped into focus once again at the sound of your voice. “(Y/N)” Nesta breathed, blinking a few times as if she couldn’t believe it was truly you. “You’re awake.”

“How long was I out?” You asked, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows but failing. You let out a groan, flopping back onto the pillows like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t try and sit up yet.” Nesta warned, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been out for two days. Your body has been through so much, the healers said to let you rest as much as possible.”

You took in a breath, taking in the sight of Nesta before you. A thousand emotions swelled up in you all at once, threatening to burst out and paint the room a hundred different colours. Your mate, your beautiful, strong mate had come to save you. Tears pricked at your eyes as your throat swelled up. “Nesta–” You croaked out.

“Shhh.” Nesta shushed, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You got out. We all did.”

You sighed. The escape from the Night Court seemed like yesterday and a million years ago all at once. “Are we in Autumn? I don’t remember getting here.”

Nesta nodded. “You passed out on Zôrzimril after we left Night. We’re in Eris’ personal residence in the woods. Beron doesn’t know you’re here.”

You glanced at the room around you, taking in the rich earthy tones signature to the Autumn Court. It was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold surroundings of Night. Lucien had told you that Eris had his own, elaborate place somewhere free of his father in the court. You had never stepped foot in it, until now, but had always wanted to.

“You’re in the room I’ve been staying in.” Nesta continued, a hint of a red blush across her cheeks as she avoided your gaze. “Actually, it’s technically Eris’s–”

“Wait,” You interrupted her. “I’m in Eris’s bed? You’ve been sleeping in Eris’s bed?”

Nesta’s blush deepened. “It’s his personal residence. He doesn’t exactly have guest rooms.”

“Where has he been staying then?”

“When he’s not at his father’s palace, the couch, apparently. Don’t feel bad for him, that couch is big enough for 3 people to sleep comfortably, limbs spread out and all.”

You snorted, ignoring the fact that you were laying in Eris’ personal bed. You expected to feel a twinge of jealousy that Nesta had been staying in this room, so up close and personal with Eris. But none came. Something which surprised you, given Nesta was your mate, and mates were supposed to be territorial.

It was like a bucket of ice water was washed over you as you recalled the realisations you came to over the last few days. Nesta didn’t know she was your mate – she thought she was Cassian’s.

Estelle’s words rang in your head. Fae folk can have more than one mate in some instances. Nesta Archeron has more than one, but Cassian is not one of them.

It confused you – Cassian sure acted like a mated male around Nesta, even more so once Rhys mentioned it at the Court of Nightmares. Why would the High Lord lie about it? Did anyone else know? A million questions swarmed through you, each one louder than the last.

You recalled Nesta telling you the story of Feyre finding out about the mating bond with Rhys. How angry she was when she found out that the male had known for months and didn’t tell her. Deep down, you knew Nesta would be angrier the longer you kept it from her. “Nesta,” You began. “There’s something you need to know–”

“Good morning, my sunshines.” The smooth voice of Eris echoed throughout the room as the door swung open, interrupting you. The prince strolled in, red hair gleaming in the glow of the morning sun. He was carrying a tray, steaming with freshly baked pastries, tea, and fruits. “I see (Y/N) has risen from the dead!”

“You’re not funny, Eris.” Nesta snapped.

“I disagree.” Eris quipped, setting the tray down at the foot of the bed. “(Y/N) think’s I’m hilarious, don’t you (Y/N)?”

You snorted. “If you pass me that bacon and egg sandwich I’ll give you this one.”

Eris smirked, placing the requested item onto a gold plate and passing it to you. “Deal.”

You eagerly grabbed the sandwich, taking as big of a bite as your mouth would allow. It burned your tongue, but you didn’t care. It took everything in you not to moan as the rich flavours filled your taste buds. “This is amazing.” You mumbled.

The Autumn Prince smirked. “Well I suppose anything would taste good after being basically starved in a dungeon.”

“Seriously, Eris. Shut up.” Nesta seethed, shooting a deadly glare at him. You snorted, but couldn’t help but notice the lack of seriousness behind it. Plenty of times you had been witness to Nesta snapping at people, but this was different. Her tone didn’t have the same bite to it that it did with others – no, it was more playful. She turned back to you, eyes softening. “How do you feel?”

You shrugged. “Tired. Like I’ve just done the workout of the century and need a week’s worth of sleep. I don’t want to leave this bed for at least another few days.”

Grey eyes met amber ones as Nesta and Eris exchanged an uneasy glance. For that moment, the only sound was the rustling of the wind coming through the windows. “What?” You asked, brows furrowed.

Eris sighed, walking around the corner of the bed. He was dressed in a simple red shirt with loose sleeves, the top slightly unlaced and exposing the pale skin underneath. Very rarely had you seen the prince dressed so casually. He grabbed your ankles through the thick duvet, lifting your legs up slightly and moving them to the side to make space for him to sit across from Nesta. Eris kept his hands on your legs, gently squeezing them.

“You’ve survived a lot of hard things lately, (Y/N).” He said slowly. “And you’ve overcome one of the most difficult parts. But I’d be lying if I said it was going to get a lot easier.”

A lump formed in your throat. Truthfully, over the past few weeks you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of what life would be like if you escaped Night and got to Autumn. There were still dozens of factors to consider, all of which you had given up on figuring out solutions to.

“I have to explain to my father how and why you are here, which will be difficult.” Eris continued. “He already blew a fuse over Nesta’s unexpected arrival. It is likely a second unexpected arrival will be even worse, and he will not take it lightly.”

You shifted in the pillows, running a hand through your hair. Surprisingly, you weren’t met with the knots and tangles you expected from not being able to brush your own hair for weeks. “Your father will hurt you, won’t he?” You said to Eris.

He hesitated before speaking. “Let me worry about that, my dear. We need to convince my father there’s a good reason for you to stay. I’ve already used the marriage card on Lady Nesta here, so we need to figure out something else.”

“What about my…” Your words trailed off as you tried to think of a word to describe what exploded out of you during the escape. “Magic?”

Eris shook his head. “Not an option. He cannot know about that.”

“Why not? Surely he’ll find out eventually?”

“Likely not. Rhysand is not stupid enough to let slip that he let someone with that kind of ability escape his court. And I have reason to believe Tamlin will stay quiet about it as well.”

“Speaking of that kind of ability,” Nesta interjected. “What even was that? I didn’t know you–”

“Yeah, me neither.” You said, locking your fingers together and twirling them around. You lowered your head, avoiding their gazes. “Something…. something happened when I was in there.”

Eris cocked his head, eyes burning with curiosity. “What happened?”

Nesta grabbed your hands, unlocking your clammy fingers and lacing her own between them. She shot a fierce look at Eris. “She doesn’t have to talk about it now.” She hissed.

“Yes, Nesta, she does.” Eris said calmly before turning back to you. “I wish we had more time to let you rest, I really do, but I need to know what happened before I can figure out what story to spin to my father.”

You let out a sigh. “Why can’t we just kill him first so we don’t have to deal with all of this?”

Nesta snorted, earning an eye roll from Eris. “As much as I would love to be rid of my father,” Eris said. “We have to wait before we take him out. There are things that need to be properly aligned, and it takes planning.”

“Haven’t you been planning?” You fired back. “I mean, plotting and scheming is all you do in your spare time, isn’t it?”

A smirk formed at the edge of Eris’s lips. “The officials in this court need to see Beron accept you and Nesta if they’re going to accept you. We risk a coup if we kill him before then. Now, tell me what happened while you were in that cell.”

Nesta’s steady hand on your weak one evened your breathing slightly. You tore your gaze from the pattern on the sheets and you drank in the sight of her as if it could slip away at a moment's notice. She looked stronger, healthier than she had in Night. She carried herself more confidently, less stiff and rigid. She looked more comfortable in her own skin, something that filled you with pride. But also sorrow – sadness at the fact you hadn’t been there to witness this change.

And so you explained everything – the vision you had, the conversation with Estelle, what happened that day Hybern came to your village. Nesta’s face was twisted with confusion and awe as you went on, whereas Eris’ expression was unreadable.

“But that wasn’t everything.” You murmured, heart beginning to race as you prepared to explain the part you dreaded most.

“There’s more?” Nesta asked, eyes wide. “You’re telling me you’re the Mother incarnate, and there’s more than that?”

Tears pricked at your eyes once again. These next few words could ruin everything. You knew Nesta hated the idea of mates, the concept of being shackled to someone just because a higher being thought you’d produce good offspring. Nesta already had to process what Rhysand said about Cassian being her mate, and you were about to make it a whole lot worse. You couldn’t stop those tears from spilling down your face as a sob left your body.

“Hey…” Eris spoke softly, reaching out to brush one of the tears off your cheek. “It’s ok.”

“(Y/N)?” Nesta’s voice was cautious, laced with concern.

“You’re my mate.” Your voice shook as you dragged the words out. You fixed your gaze on the sheets again, not wanting to see Nesta’s reaction.

“What?” She said quietly.

“Cassian isn’t your mate,” You said, more steady this time. “I am. Estelle said fae can have more than one mate, but Cassian is not one of yours.”

For once, not even the wind rustled in response. It was as if the world had gone quiet. You could feel her surprise, like a rush of cold water surging through that link between you two. You tried to reach her through the bond, to get a sense of what else she was feeling, but you were met with a stone cold wall.

Nesta. You tried. But she had shut you out, eyes vacant as she took in the information. Wordlessly, Nesta removed her hands from yours. Your skin cried out at the loss of warmth, missing the contact already. She uncrossed her legs and climbed off the bed before leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.

A sob wracked your body again, harder this time. Wet droplets appeared on the sheets as tears rolled off your face, and you buried your head in your hands. Even after everything you’d endured, this was somehow the worst.

You felt a shift on the bed as Eris scooted up closer to you. “It’ll be okay.” You heard his voice murmur in that scarce gentle tone.

“You don’t know that.” You choked out. One of your fears had come true. Everything you and Nesta had built up over the last few months – the quiet friendship, the few sacred kisses you shared that set your entire body alight, the easiness during training with Gwyn and Emerie, it all came crashing down. Whatever she had felt for you mattered now, she wouldn’t want to be shackled even more than she already has.

“When you were asleep, Nesta spent hours untangling your hair.”

You lifted your head from your hands at Eris’ voice, meeting his soft gaze. “It was a mess,” He continued. “Took her the entire afternoon. But she was so gentle, and not breaking a single strand. She didn’t take a single break, and even after she was done she remained by your side until the sun came up. I set up the couch for her, but she insisted on sleeping next to you.”

Eris gently touched your hand. It was warm against your skin, which you felt was still thawing from the cold of Rhys’ dungeon. “Nesta has had a lot to take in the last few weeks, as you well know. I’ve been training her powers, but my father has insisted that a demonstration of her magic be made before the marriage is to happen. I have no doubt that–”

“Did you know?” You blurted out before the prince could finish his sentence. It was a question that had been niggling at the back of your mind since you found out Nesta was your mate – Eris had a knack for finding out things long before others knew. You had no doubt that the second he found out about the spell you and Nesta cast, he had delved into hours of research trying to figure out as much about it as possible. He was a clever male, one who fought with knowledge and scheming rather than brute force like Cassian.

Eris was silent for a moment before speaking. “I suspected. There were too many unknown factors to bring it up, I wanted to be sure before I told Nesta. I found old manuscripts dating back thousands of years – the text was faded, but it went into more details about the specifics of the spell between Estelle and Jayana. There were too many parallels between it and the mating bond. I figured the only explanation was that a mating bond had to already be in place for the spell to truly link.”

You sighed. If Nesta found out that Eris might have known as well and kept it from her, she would be even angrier. “Eris, Nesta doesn’t trust easily. You should have told her this the second you got the idea in your head. Now she’s going to be pissed at both of us.”

“She’s not pissed at you, my dear.” Eris gently stroked your hand with his thumb, the movement so small it was almost undetectable. “Give her a few hours to process. Then we can all sit down and figure out what to do next, okay? Now rest for a bit longer, you need to get your strength back.”

You nodded, heart aching at the image of Nesta storming out of the room. Laying back, you settled back into the plush bedding, wishing it would swallow you up whole. Eris reached down and pulled the duvet closer to you, gently tucking you in. “Sleep well, darling.” He whispered. Before you could process it, Eris leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your skin tingled at the sensation, still feeling like it was slowly thawing from the cold of the dungeon.

There was so much more you wanted to say, a thousand questions you wanted to ask Eris, but the prince retreated as quickly as he came leaving you to sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut as you drifted off again, heart aching at the absence of Nesta’s presence.

*********************

A few hours later, you smoothed your hands over the skirts of the dress Eris’s servants had laid out for you. It was a rich brown colour with a square neckline and loose sleeves -- elegant, yet comfortable. You had no clue where Eris had been pulling this wardrobe from, but that was besides the point. Grogginess continued to plague you, although less so than before. Even with your fae healing, it would take a while for you to return to your full strength – something you had Rhysand to thank for.

Your hands curled into fists, nails scraping through your palms as you thought of the High Lord of the Night Court. A sick feeling curled in your gut as you recalled his smug face as he sent his dark powers slicing through your skin. Every time you closed your eyes, you were back in that dungeon, chained up and helpless against the male. You hated it, hated him. You hated how much his slimy face crossed your mind, how the faint scars along your wrists would never truly fade. Your mind flashed with memories of riding atop Zorzimril, burning down Rhys and Feyre’s many castles, the orange flames lighting up the night sky as you burned and burned them. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you feel better.

Shaking your head as if to push memories of Rhysand out of your mind, you wandered towards the door on unsteady legs. As the door swung open, you were greeted with a long hallway lined with elegant torches. You looked back and forth, unsure which way to go. You didn’t even know Eris had this residence, let alone how to navigate it. But then you felt something, a slight pull deep inside of you that urged you to go left. Aimlessly, you followed it, wandering down the hallway before coming to a beautiful wooden arch that marked the entryway into the living room. In awe, you scanned the space before you. A series of couches and armchairs were placed around the room, some by a fireplace and some by the high bookshelf that stretched all the way to the ceiling. It was decorated in rich autumnal colours, the scent of cinnamon and apple cider filling the air. It had a modest dining table and three chairs, and a set of doors that seemingly led to a pathway outside.

Nesta and Eris occupied two of the chairs, sitting across from each other in silence. Eris was humming quietly, writing something down on a piece of parchment. His red hair looked more orange in the candlelight, and was braided loosely. Nesta sat stoically, staring into nothing. She had a cup of tea in front of her, but no steam emitted from it. Clearly she had been there a while, tea untouched. Her face was grave, but her head whipped to face you as you stepped through the archway.

You wanted to throw up with nerves. You had always been able to read Nesta’s expressions until now. Her face was contorted with a mix of emotions, passing so quickly between each one it was impossible to tell what they were. My mate, my mate, my mate, rang like a war bell in your head so loud it threatened to drown out any sounds from the outside world. You felt the bond in your chest swell in her presence, stronger than anything you’d felt before. There was no denying it – Nesta was your mate.

“May I join you?” You finally managed to ask through a dry throat. Nesta said nothing and just kept staring at you.

“By all means,” Eris piped up, setting his pen down. “Come join the party. We’re having a grand old time here, aren’t we, Nesta?”

You expected Nesta to roll her eyes or snap at him in that playful manner, but it was as if she didn’t even hear Eris. She just kept looking at you as if she wasn’t sure if you were really there. You carefully walked over, taking a seat between Nesta and Eris at the head of the table where the remaining chair was. Her grey gaze followed you the whole way.

“What have you guys been up to while I was out?” You asked.

Eris sighed. “Well, my dear, I informed Nesta of what I began to suspect regarding the bond. She tore me a new one for not telling her, it was very dramatic. So now we’re sitting in silence trying to figure out how to address the elephant in the room.”

You didn’t say anything, just stared at the lines in the wood of the table. You felt frozen – afraid of saying the wrong thing. Nesta had never wanted to be fae, and you knew having a mating bond must make that worse for her. It would make her even more shackled to this life she didn’t want, chipping away at her remaining humanity piece by piece. Sure, you and Nesta had kissed a few times and there was feeling behind it, but that didn’t mean she wanted you as a life partner. And even with that, Estelle had said Nesta had multiple mates. If Cassian was not one of them, then who was?

Eris’s sigh broke your thoughts. “By the Mother, you two are stubborn.” He huffed. “Let’s look at the facts, shall we? Nesta, (Y/N), you are mates. I suspected it a few days after I found out about the spell you two cast, as it needed an already existing bond to latch onto in order to work. But then things get complicated. Somehow, Rhys is wrong about Cassian being Nesta’s mate. Either they’re the best actors I’ve seen, or there is something linking Nesta and Cassian.”

You saw Nesta’s throat bob at the mention of Cassian. Trying to figure out how he was connected to Nesta hurt your brain.

“I felt something with Cassian,” Nesta said tensely. “Not in that way, but I could feel what he felt as if part of him lived within me. How is that not a mating bond?”

The prince shrugged. “I have no idea, honestly. There’s something strange going on there. However, none of that matters until we deal with my father. I am set to marry Nesta, which puts us in an awkward situation. If Nesta pleases my father with her powers, then she is to be wed to me.”

“When is that supposed to be happening?” You asked. You weren’t sure how you felt about Eris and Nesta getting married. Part of you was jealous, resentful at the idea of Nesta marrying someone else. But there was another part of you that felt differently in a way you couldn’t explain. Like you were being left out not just from Nesta’s life, but Eris’s too.

“Tonight.” Eris said gravely.

Your blood froze. “Tonight?”

“Yes. And no offence my dear, but you complicate things. Because now I have to explain to my father why you are here too and why I keep letting in strays.”

You snorted. “Beron’s going to kill me. I think you already pissed him off by letting Nesta in here without his permission. I’m not even half as valuable to him as she is, we both know he won’t have any use for me.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Nesta finally spoke, her voice fierce. You turned to face her and were met with her silver eyes. They stared into you, swimming with a thousand emotions.

“Whatever happens, Beron won’t touch you.” She continued evenly.

“We just have to play the angle right.” Eris said, crossing his arms and resting his elbows on the table. “You spied for Rhysand, correct?”

You scoffed. “Well, technically–”

“Yes, you did.” Eris interrupted sternly. “You spied for Rhysand, and then you found out what he was planning and tried to flee. He’s been hunting you down, and I found you at the Autumn Court border. That is the story we are going with.”

“What exactly did I find out that made me flee?”

“That he’s planning on becoming High King with Nesta’s Made sword.”

“Beron won’t believe that.”

“He will because it’s true.”

Your heart fell into your stomach. “What?” You spoke in a whisper, mind reeling in shock. The thought of Rhysand using Nesta’s weapons and declaring himself as High King over all of Prythian made you want to throw up.

“Based on my intel, the lovely Amren has been trying to convince him to go down that path.” Eris explained through gritted teeth. “Apparently he refused at first, but I strongly believe that with you and Nesta both having fled his grasp, he will reconsider his stance to get you back under his control.”

“If Rhysand was High King then he’d have dominion over the Autumn Court,” You muttered. “We would be right back where we started.”

Eris nodded. “But we can use this. My father would do anything to make sure that didn’t happen, overlook anything. If you inform him of Rhysand’s plans, he’ll want you on his side for more intel.”

“Would Beron really be so quick to trust someone who’s supposedly betraying their own court?”

“My dear, Rhysand locked you in a dungeon. That part we don’t have to lie about. We just have to twist the reasons why he locked you up. But truthfully, I think my father will be so distracted by the intel he won’t care about anything else.”

You chewed on your lower lip with worry. It was a big gamble, and while Eris was clever Beron was still unpredictable. So many things could go wrong so fast, and the last thing you wanted was to end up in another dungeon. The thought of doing so made you want to curl up into a ball.

As if sensing your discomfort, Nesta placed her hand on top of yours. It was warm, such a difference from how frail and cold her hands were in the Night Court. “It’ll be ok.” She murmured.

You smiled softly, relaxing instantly under her touch.

“And that’s my cue,” Eris announced, gathering his papers and standing up. “I suspect you two have much to discuss alone. I must go ensure everything is prepared for dinner with my father tonight. I’ve left instructions with the servants on how to get you ready, and I will be by to collect you both at five o’clock.”

He strode towards the archway, but paused briefly. Amber eyes landed on you and Nesta again, all playfulness gone. “I have done my part, and will do whatever I can to ensure your safety.” He said gravely. “But do not forget that you both have roles to play, and we all risk our heads if you fail to do so. And if you have any thoughts about betraying me to save your own skin, Beron will no longer be the one you need to fear from my family. I will throw you both to the wolves without hesitation if you think about dragging me down with you.”

With that, the prince left, leaving you and Nesta sitting in silence. Eris’s words stung you a bit, that he thought you would even think about betraying him. But Eris had been playing this song and dance with his father for centuries, and at the end of the day no matter how much he’d helped you, he’d always look out for himself. It was something you were aware of when you planned this, and you mentally kicked yourself for ignoring it.

The few minutes after Eris’s departure were filled with silence. No birds chirped in the windowsill, no breeze rustled the branches. It was as if the world had stopped, waiting on the edge of its seat for you and Nesta to speak.

Truthfully, you had no idea what to say. How could you comprehend what Nesta felt when you didn’t even know how you truly felt? A part of you had always loved Nesta, but were those your true feelings or just the mating bond? All those tender moments, the stolen kisses, the soft touches, would they have happened if the mating bond wasn’t already there? The thought of your connection with Nesta stemming from magic rather than your true feelings made your heart hurt. You had never wanted a mating bond, yet here you were.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, you found the courage to speak. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Nesta?”

Nesta took a deep breath, fiddling with her fingers for a minute before answering. “How a few weeks ago I was ready to burn down the entire Night Court to get you back. How every second you were in that dungeon I was here, living comfortably. How every time I closed my eyes I saw glimpses of darkness, how I felt your fear. How all that time, I thought it was the spell allowing me to feel those things. I never could have imagined…”

Her voice trailed off, as if she was afraid to even speak about the bond. “Me too,” You replied. “Look, I know things are hard for us right now. And you don’t have to accept the bond if you don’t want–”

Nesta sharply cut you off. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to accept it. I just don’t know what to believe right now. Estelle said Cassian wasn’t one of my mates, but I swear I felt a bond. Was she wrong about that? And does that mean she was wrong about us?”

“I can’t speak for Cassian, but I don’t think she was wrong about us. And I think you know it too, Nesta.”

Nesta looked up at you, grey eyes brimming with emotion. You felt a gentle tug at the bond and inhaled sharply. She smiled softly at your reaction, confirming everything she needed to know.

“Nesta…” You breathed her name like a prayer on your lips. Tears filled your eyes as you admired that tender smile.

“I’m sorry for running off on you earlier.” She said quietly. “I just… I didn’t expect it. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. You, being my mate. After everything that happened between us…”

You sniffled, trying to hold back more tears. “But was all of it real? I mean, if we were mated the whole time, did everything happen between us because of the bond, or because of us?”

Nesta blinked slowly. “It was real to me.”

“Me too.”

You stroked Nesta’s wrist with your thumb, rubbing it in circular motions. You felt like you were going to explode, feeling everything both you and Nesta were experiencing at once. All you wanted to do was sit here and stare at your beautiful mate, forgetting about everything else. To let the rest of the world fall away beneath your feet as long as you could stay in this moment forever.

But realistically, you knew you had to face the challenges. “What about Eris?” You asked quietly. “You’re supposed to marry him, where does that put us?”

The Archeron sister bit her lip anxiously. “I don’t know. I’m sure Eris and I will be free to see whomever we wish as long as we are discreet and are able to maintain our image.”

You laughed humourlessly. “So then I’d become your mistress.”

“That’s not what I want for either of us. But I don’t see another way right now.”

You tried not to let it sting. You weren’t stupid – Eris marrying Nesta was necessary in your plan, but that didn’t make it any easier. Especially now that you two were mated. The thought of simply being your mate's secret mistress made you feel slimy and ashamed. “How do you feel about marrying Eris?” You asked tentatively.

Nesta shrugged, but a faint red stained her cheeks. “It’s a smart move. It makes sense. And he’s not the worst male I’ve met so I think I’ll live.”

You chuckled, causing Nesta to glare at you. “Your face is red, Nesta. Admit it, you like him.”

“I don’t. He’s insufferable.” Nesta’s face only grew redder as she looked away.

Your laugh only grew louder. “Liar.”

“Fine!” Nesta snapped. “I’ve spent a lot of time with him in the last few weeks and he’s grown on me, ok? Does it not bother you as my mate for me to admit I like him? It feels wrong. I’m mated to you, not him.”

“No.” You answered honestly, which surprised you. “It doesn’t bother me. He’s charming. Besides, I’ve had a crush on him since I was like twenty, so…”

Your voice trailed off with embarrassment as you realised what you had just admitted. You had never told anyone about your crush on Eris, and had been determined to die with this secret. Your face went red, and Nesta burst out laughing.

“Look whose face is red now?” She teased.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, burying your face in your hands. “If you ever tell him I said that I’ll strangle you.”

Nesta snorted. “Oh, please. He’s Eris. He probably already knows.”

You groaned, banging your head into the wood of the table a few times. It was strange and yet comforting to know that Nesta liked Eris. You expected a mately surge of jealousy and possessiveness, but none came.

After a few more minutes of laughter, a comfortable silence took over the room before you each chose a book from the shelf and began to read. The hours began to pass by, and you stared at Nesta as she flipped through the pages, how beautiful she was with the autumn glow upon her. You wanted to memorise every inch of her features before the dinner with Beron tonight, the thought of which made your gut churn.

It was a quarter to five when the shuffled footsteps of four servants came into the room. It was time to prepare.

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autumnshighlady · 9 months

Text

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 16)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the moment you’ve all been waiting for, that’s all i can say

warnings: Night Court slander, pro-Tamlin,

word count: 7.7k (y’all better appreciate how long this is)

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: THIS IS THE BIGGEST CHAPTER YET GUYS!! so much is revealed that i’ve been planning for MONTHS, i’m so excited to share it with you. please send me all your reactions!

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 /

read on ao3

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The stench of blood and shredded flesh was choking your senses, clogging your throat like the thickest oil. Everything was happening in slow motion through the stained glass as Hybern’s soldiers retreated, crowing their victory as if it took a great deal of skill to slaughter a defenceless village. Their cries were muffled, as if you were underwater. Every limb ached, too stiff and heavy to move even an inch. No amount of effort could get you to lift your head up.

You were going to die here. That much you had accepted.

What would be the point in living anyway? With your entire village dead, you closed your eyes, waiting for the embrace of death to whisk you away. Each breath was like shredding a knife through your chest, what was taking so long? Everyone else was gone, yet you were cursed with the ability to still draw breath.

A strange, white flicker drew your eyelids open. Everything was blurry, but even in your dazed state you could tell that something was happening. Groaning, you stretched out your fingers. If you had a voice, you knew you’d be screaming at the pain from such a simple movement. As your palm outstretched, something warm and gentle closed around it, as if the sweet spring breeze itself had formed a hand of its own to clasp yours. The touch was gentle, reassuring even. It flooded you with a sense of calm. Was this what death was like?

The white flickering from the bodies in the village erupted in a shower of starlight and sunshine, glowing tendrils rising from the mangled fae in your line of vision. They descended upon you like smoke, and the warm touch around your hand squeezed once before agony overtook your body.

You didn’t know if you were screaming or not. Your throat burned as if a dagger had slashed it open. Your abdomen ached, as if it was being hacked apart by a longsword. It felt like Hybern’s soldiers had descended upon you with their weapons, striking and cutting a thousand times. You heard nothing but the ringing in your ears as your body shook with spasms.

Please just let me die faster, You pleaded to the Mother. I can’t take this. Just end it already.

Even throughout the unbearable pain that wracked your body, you could still feel the warm sensation like someone was squeezing your palm. You wondered if it was your mother, preparing to guide you into whatever afterlife lay ahead. But the pain didn’t stop, didn’t end. It just kept going for what felt like eons. And then, like a weighted blanket was being laid over you, it stopped.

*********************

“Wake up.”

You opened your eyes and groaned, Rhysand’s voice making your already pounding head worse. You had endured hours of hearing it scraping against your mental shields, pressing to try and find a way in. You had felt his anger, his frustration and disbelief at not being able to get through. Every ounce of his hatred had been flung at you like a thousand arrows, making you see right through the High Lord.

You felt his self righteousness, his true feelings about how he didn’t give a shit about anything but his precious circle. Even them, he looked down upon – including his own mate and High Lady. As Rhysand flung his thoughts at you, you read them like paper on parchment. He may love Feyre and his family, but at the end of the day he needed control. And there you were, a stain on his image, a brick out of place at the foundation of his empire, threatening to bring the whole thing down.

Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, feared you.

He was afraid of your influence, how openly rebelling on him and calling out his lies might spread ideas to others. Especially with Nesta, Cauldron-made, on your side. The thought of Rhys being afraid of you would have made you laugh, if you weren’t tied up in a cell for days on end. You weren’t even sure how you were still alive

You never figured out what happened that day your village was attacked, after the slaughter ceased and you were left alone. Every time you closed your eyes, that glowing light from the bodies around you haunted your dreams. You weren’t sure if it was even real, if any of it actually happened or if your mind had made it up. But you had felt different since that day in a way that couldn’t be explained. It was as if something coursed through your bones, waiting to answer a call.

You were changed that day, and for months you had chalked it up to your state of mind being altered by something so traumatic. But you had been in this cell without food for longer than your body, even as a faerie, should have been able to survive. Something that clearly also perplexed your captor as he stared at you.

“I don’t understand you, (Y/N).” Rhysand said with lethal calm. “Nothing about you makes sense. You happen to survive a slaughter at the hands of Hybern, you infiltrate my court and make a magical bond with Nesta Archeron that nobody has ever seen before, and you somehow resist my magic. I want to know how you’re able to do that.”

You spat up the blood that had been pooling in your mouth. “Go fuck yourself. Prick.”

The High Lord chuckled, but continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “And to top it off, you’ve been scheming with Eris Vanserra this whole time. Plotting to overthrow me, perhaps? To rip my court out from under me like Feyre did to your beloved Tamlin? If it is revenge you are after, I suggest you rethink your plan.”

You said nothing. It would be pointless to argue with him. Anything you say would be twisted and used against you, so you held your tongue.

“It matters not,” Rhys continued, pacing back and forth with his hands in his pockets. “Because you failed in whatever it is you wanted to accomplish. You are here, locked in this dungeon where nobody can find you. And whether I grant you a merciful death or not depends on you answering this one simple question.”

Rhys stopped pacing, and leaned towards you. His face was inches away from yours, violet eyes boring into you like lasers. You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. “What spell did you use to cast the bond? Gwyn’s story only tells us so much, if any of it is even related to this, but I know there’s more to it”

You huffed, cracked lips stinging with the effort of speaking. “You seemed to have a list of other questions, what happened to those?”

“Oh, I have other ways of finding out the answers to almost everything else. But with Nesta Archeron tucked away somewhere in Autumn, you are the only other person who can speak to the magic of the spell.” Rhys’ slender finger caressed your cheek, making you squirm with discomfort. “And if you cooperate like a good girl, how about I make you a deal? I will let Nesta live out whatever shit life she wants in Autumn in peace, provided you give me what I need.”

Your breath lurched, the horror of his insinuation dawning on you. Rhys never intended to let Nesta live peacefully in Autumn, not because he cared for her safety in the clutches of Beron, but because losing her made him look weak. Even if Nesta was married to Eris and protected by the whole of Autumn, Rhysand would take every opportunity he could to hunt her like a dog and bring her back.

No doubt he’d paint himself as the hero of the situation. Poor Nesta Archeron, stolen away by the evil Autumn prince and made a bride against her will. Rhysand would save her from her terrible fate, dragging her back to the Night Court to be hailed a saviour. And that would be the last time Nesta ever stepped out of Night, he would make sure of it. Under the illusion of caring for his beloved sister in law, of course.

You glared at him, but he only chuckled again. Rhys leaned away from you and stood back upright, picking at the sleeve of his shirt casually. “It matters not,” He said. “Azriel is on his way right now. He’ll tell me what he’s discovered, and when the sun rises over the mountains, he will kill you.”

It felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped on your body as you remembered the fading voices of Rhys’ command to his spymaster before you had passed out. You didn’t know what Azriel would do. On the one hand, he had stood up for you in a way that Rhys clearly hadn’t expected. But on the other, he has been loyal to the prick for five centuries – holding out hope that would change now was foolish. All you could truly hope for was that he granted you a quick death.

“What if he didn’t find anything?” You croaked. “Still gonna kill me then? I thought you were desperate to find answers.”

“If Azriel cannot find them, then there is nobody that can,” The High Lord countered simply, as if he were making idle chit chat. “And then whatever secrets you’re so determined to keep die with you, the magic along with it. That’s something I can live with if not knowing at the end of the day means protecting my court.”

You laughed bitterly. “As if you care about that?”

Rhys’ eyes narrowed, his body stilling like a predator frozen before the kill. “Excuse me?”

“You sure don’t give a shit about most of it.” You challenged brazenly. “The women in Illyria who still get their wings clipped, anyone who has the misfortune of living outside Velaris, you don’t care about anyone but yourself and your little family. You rule because you like the power, not because you care about the people your power is supposed to protect.”

“I have outlawed wing clipping in Illyria–” Rhys growled, but you interrupted him.

“And without enforcing it harshly you have only ensured that the practice of wing clipping becomes more underground, leaving females to die from mangled procedures.”

If looks could kill, Rhysand’s would have obliterated you. But you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself at the anger you elicited from the High Lord. Judging by his reaction you knew that he knew you were right. He just hated hearing it.

“I see Azriel taught you too much.” Rhys hissed.

“What did I teach her too much of?”

You flinched as Azriel’s voice echoed in the chamber. Out of the shadows he appeared, melting into the space of the dark cell like wax. His expression was unreadable, and he did not look at you. He faced his brother, not sparing you a single glance.

“Azriel, I am very glad you’re here.” Rhys’ voice singsonged, an obnoxiously chipper tone to it. The smug look on his face made you tense up preparing for the worst.

Gwyn was the only other person who knew about what magic was used to cast the bond between you and Nesta. Your gut twisted at the thought of Azriel going to her for answers. The priestess had sworn she would never breathe a word, but in more ways than one Azriel could be… persuasive. Rhys had already figured out the story the spell was based on by going into her mind, if he knew what else she had found….

You were certain of one thing though: if Azriel had harmed Gwyn in any way, you’d tear him limb from limb.

“I assume you’re going to be more helpful than this one here regarding information on the bond?” Rhys continued, crossing his arms proudly.

Silence that was almost too loud took over the cell for a few moments, until Azriel uttered one word from his lips. “No.”

Rhys blinked in surprise. “No?” He said. “You mean you honestly found nothing?”

A tentative flicker of hope ignited in your chest. Azriel was stone faced as he answered to his High Lord. “Correct. The library was of no use, even the restricted section. I found nothing resembling the bond (Y/N) and Nesta used.”

The High Lord’s eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head. “Interesting. You are usually more useful than this, Az.”

“I explored all of my available resources and found nothing.” Azriel’s voice was monotone, no emotion or life to it. It was the voice of a spy, unreadable and impossible to decipher. It made you nervous, unsure of what angle he was playing at. Azriel was not stupid, he had to know Gwyn would have been the one to give you and Nesta access to the information.

Which means whatever his reasoning was, he chose to keep Rhysand in the dark.

“Pity.” Rhys clucked his tongue in disappointment. “I know dear Amren was dying to find out what spell it was. But it doesn't matter anymore. I guess we’ll all have to live with the disappointment, won’t we?”

Azriel remained motionless as he spoke. “I am sorry I failed you.”

Another minute of silence overcame the cell. You barely even breathed, heart racing with every passing second. Until Rhys spoke the words you had been anticipating for days. “Kill her.”

The shadowsinger shifted, standing more upright. As your heart dropped into your stomach, you anticipated him reaching for truth-teller. If he had kept the information about the spell out of Rhysand’s hands, you took it as a sign he would make your death quick and clean at least. And so you closed your eyes, finding yourself for the second time in one year waiting for death to come and claim you.

“No.”

Azriel’s firm words made your eyes snap open in confusion. Rhysand was taking a deep breath, as if trying to keep himself calm and collected before he spoke. “And why not?” The High Lord said icily.

“Because this is wrong.” Azriel said, shifting his weight as if the mere act of disobeying his High Lord caused him discomfort. He glanced at you, eyes softening for a second as he spoke. “And she is my friend.”

“Please,” Rhys scoffed angrily. “No she is not. She was manipulating you, you fool. Maybe her pretty face kept your shadows distracted enough from figuring that out, but she is not your friend. She is your prisoner, whom your High Lord is ordering you to kill.”

“I said no.”

You glanced uneasily between them, not expecting Azriel to openly defend you like this. Rhys, apparently, felt the same thing. His breath was uneven, and his voice laced with rage as he spoke. “What has gotten into you, Azriel? Are you really going to disobey me like this?”

Azriel argued back, trying to reason with his brother. “Rhys, what we are doing to this female is wrong. All signs point to her wanting just to be free, not to bring harm to your court. She has no desire to overthrow you, or whatever bizarre shit your brain has come up with. Killing her would be wrong.”

“SHE IS A FUCKING THREAT TO MY COURT!” Rhys suddenly bellowed, his loud yell hurting your ears as it echoed throughout the chamber. Without warning, Rhysand shoved Azriel against the wall, a loud crack sounding as the spymaster’s wings collided with solid rock. He groaned in pain, but did not fight back.

. “And I am ORDERING you to do your job and eliminate her.” Rhys growled at him, pressing his neck into the wall. “If you do not, then I–”

“Do it yourself, coward.” You spat with as much defiance as you could. You hated seeing Azriel let his brother overpower him, watching him give up because he thought he deserved punishment for disobedience. You did not necessarily see eye to eye with the shadowsinger on everything – hell, there were times where his bystanderism made him just as bad as the rest of his circle.

But you could not let this happen to you, because it was all your fault. It was because of you he was in this position – his job, his family, his life on the line because he was trying to help you.

Rhys froze, pausing whatever blow he was about to land on his spymaster before he slowly turned to gaze at you. “What did you just say?”

“I said…” Every word was an effort, but a surge of determination flooded through you. “Kill me yourself, you fucking coward. Do your own dirty work for once.”

Rhysand snarled, letting go of Azriel with a shove. He stormed over towards you and grabbed your throat, hand gripping it like talons. His face was pure rage, the ugly face behind the charming mask, the illusion finally shattered. “I’m going to enjoy this,” He spat in your face. “And when I’m done, I’m going to drag Nesta back here kicking and screaming if I have to. And she will meet this very same fate once I make her scream.”

Something deep inside of you snapped. A strange sensation coursed through your bones, filling your broken body with life once again. Your wrists no longer ached, your back was no longer stiff. You could barely hear over the roaring in your head as you pictured Nesta’s beautiful face in your mind. The ringing in your ears became so loud, and before the High Lord of the Night Court unleashed his dark mist upon you, the world went white.

*********************

Wake up.

It was not the snarling, arrogant voice of Rhysand that greeted you, but a soft female one. It was familiar yet foreign all at once, the sound of both one voice and a thousand altogether, blended like a strange melody. Your eyes fluttered open, and you were met with a familiar scene.

Your village.

The bodies had gone, only ash and dirt remaining where they once were. The buildings remained in ruins, like the memorial of an ancient city. Vines had begun to curl over the rooftops, circling down the sides of what remained of the houses that Hybern did not burn down. Flowers had blossomed across the earth, a stark contrast to the death and destruction that had occurred on the very same soil all those months ago. You glanced at your arms, which were free from the cuts and bruises inflicted upon you in the dungeon. You felt no pain.

“Do you remember what happened that day?”

You jumped as the female voice sounded behind you. Whirling around, you were met with a tall female. She had olive skin and warm brown eyes, with long brown hair that shone like the rays of the sun itself. Her face was kind but strong, and she wore sparling robes that almost blended in with her skin. She emitted an otherworldly glow, a kind of radiance that shook you to your very core.

“Who… who are you?” You stuttered.

The female smiled softly, her elegant hands clasped together. “I am Estelle.”

Your mind raced, putting together the pieces from Gwyn’s information. “Like… the mother goddess from the story? Jayana’s lover?”

She nodded. “A millenia later, and I find myself missing her every day. Much like you miss your Nesta.”

You took a steady breath, shaking your head. “Am I dead? Is this the afterlife?”

The goddess chuckled softly. “No, my child, you are not dead. You are here for a reason, one which requires an answer to my question. Do you remember this day?”

You paused, taking a few steps back and scanning the clearing. Your heart ached at the sight of it so empty, so quiet and lifeless. It held so many good memories, ones that were now tainted with bloodshed and violence. “Not all of it…”

“Do you ever have dreams, my child? Dreams where you’re back in this clearing, body seized with pain so violent it felt like you were dying a thousand times?”

You felt her presence follow you as you wandered aimlessly. “Yes…” You muttered. “Are you going to tell me that really happened?”

“Is that what you want me to tell you?”

You whirled around, facing the female once again. “Look, I don’t know what the hell is happening right now. Or at all, frankly. I’ve had enough riddles, can you please just tell me why I’m here?”

Despite your anger, Estelle showed no sign of hurt at your sharp words. There was sorrow behind her eyes, an understanding, one that you felt could see into every inch of your soul.

“You know my story, correct?” She said softly. You nodded.

“Good,” She continued. “When I absorbed the life forces of my fallen comrades, I felt each and every one of their deaths. It tore through my body like a riptide, and I was sure it was going to break me. I felt their rage, their fear, their anguish as they were slaughtered much like your village was. And after that day, I held a new power, one that allowed me to escape Hel and break the realms of the world apart.”

Your throat was dry, a dizziness overcoming you as the weight of her words dawned on you. Every dream you had about that day, every nightmare that ended in blinding light and pain was the exact experience that the goddess in the story had felt. “What are you saying?” Your voice was quiet as you asked a question you were pretty sure you knew the answer to.

“My child,” Estelle said. “The same thing happened to you. What you felt that day was the life force of everyone in your village flooding into your body. You felt each and every one of their deaths, and I am sorry you had to experience that. But it happened for a reason.” You weren’t sure you were breathing at this point. You rested your hands on your knees, trying to stabilise yourself. “Do you mean….” Your voice stuttered as you spoke. “Do you mean that… what I felt that day… what I felt afterwards…”

Your voice trailed off, but a warm hand on your shoulder reassured you.

“Yes. Your body now possesses the life force of hundreds of deaths, a power you can shape and wield however you choose.”

The feeling of the goddess’s hand on your shoulder struck something in you. All those times you felt that invisible touch, that reassuring presence that you thought you had imagined… You had thought it was maybe the Mother, but it dawned over you that it had been Estelle this whole time. Hers was the hand that held yours as you felt the deaths of your friends and family rip through you. Hers was the voice that helped you stay strong as Rhysand tortured you.

“This whole time…” You said breathlessly, her presence behind you like a warm light on your back. “I thought it was the Mother guiding me. But it was you.”

“My dear, we are one and the same.”

You whipped around to face the goddess. “You’re the Mother?”

Estelle simply smiled. “The war that took Jayana from me was centuries before Prythian was formed. After I escaped Hel, I wandered about the universe, utterly lost. Until I found this untamed world, unguided by any spirit. I did not ask to be named the Mother, but my true name had been lost in my years alone. So I became her, but I never forgot who I was. And I never will.”

You ran a hand through your hair, mind spinning with the overload of information. The story of Jayana and Estelle was not only true, but Estelle was the Mother herself, the being that watched over Prythian and was worshipped all over the land. Not only that, but you were living what Estelle had experienced hundreds and thousands of years ago.

“Why?” Was all you could ask, not knowing what to say.

“Not everything has to have an answer,” Estelle said, taking your hand in her own. “And I urge you not to expect to know the explanation for everything after this. But as for why you are here, I needed you to know the truth. You refused to believe your dreams, and chose to try and forget about them instead of asking yourself if they were really just imaginary. You possess the power of life now, just as I do. And you are in a terrible situation, my child. I ask that you recall my story, and use this power to find your way back to your mate.”

Even in this strange dreamy reality, time seemed to stop. Mate. The world itself seemed to spiral down upon you as the word replayed in your head over and over again.

Nesta was your mate.

“But… but Cassian is Nesta’s mate.” Was all you could sputter out. Something stirred in you, as if awoken by the realisation. It was like the bond, but stronger. Its presence in your chest was undeniable, reaching out as if it were searching for its other half.

“Fae folk can have more than one mate in some instances. Nesta Archeron has more than one, but Cassian is not one of them.”

“How–”

Estelle cut you off, more urgency in her voice than before. “I have already told you not to expect the answers to every question you have just yet. All will reveal itself in time. But Jayana and I were mates before I created the spell that allowed us to communicate. Therefore, in order for the magic to work, the spell had to be done between two mates. The daemati-like powers is the only thing that spell gives. Everything else you feel? That deeper connection to Nesta? It was already there in the mating bond. The spell had nothing to do with it.”

“Holy shit.” You gasped, blood racing. “So you’re saying… Nesta and I are mates, and that’s why the spell worked?”

She nodded. “And why Rhysand was not able to activate it. It can only be done so between two mates, no matter how powerful an outsider’s magic is. And your magic is also the reason he cannot get into your head. You are protected from all other daemati magic.”

“I’m going to pass out…” You muttered, taking a seat on the log a few feet away. Within seconds, Estelle’s, or the Mother’s, appeared beside you.

“Everything happens for a reason, my child. You received those powers for a reason. You came across my story for a reason. I didn’t have a chance to use the spell to find my way back to my mate, but you do. Seize it.”

That strange presence in your bones you had felt after you woke up from the massacre, it wasn’t imagined after all. Deep down, you had always known something otherworldly happened. But you had spent months pushing it aside, trying to ignore it out of fear of what it was. “This is all just happening inside my head, isn’t it?”

Estelle’s long robes rustled in the breeze. “Of course it is,” She said. “But that does not mean it’s not real. Across the universe, there are multiple realities. Multiple versions of oneself that may seem like different people, but are all variants of one another. With beings like me, that does not happen unless we make it so. You, (Y/N), are an incarnate version of me. It’s why this is happening in your head. I am not some external being that is inside your mind right now. I am you, and you are me.”

You were the Mother incarnate. Holy shit. It felt like a dream, but the presence beside you was too strong to be anything but real. “If people have variants of each other,” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady. “Does that mean….Nesta is Jayana?”

“In a sense,” Estelle responded. “The connection is not direct like with you and I. I saw your situation when Hybern attacked your village, and I kept you alive by having your body absorb the life force of the dead just like I had. And thus, you became a version of me. Nesta Archeron is her own person, but fate seems to like its parallels. I see much of Jayana in her. They both have the same temper, both represent a death goddess feared across all the lands.”

You frowned. “You mean you aren’t the decider of fate? I thought everything that happened was with your guidance?”

She laughed melodically, the sound like the song of birds on a spring morning. “No, my child. I decide many things, yes. But not all. None of us do, and we do not know what does.”

Estelle’s words echoed in your mind like a hurricane, threatening to overwhelm you. But it didn’t, because in a way, everything made sense. She had no reason to lie, even if this was just some bizarre dream or afterlife sentence. The way you felt that connection to Nesta, that force in your body that threatened to explode when you were angry, it all aligned with what the goddess beside you was saying.

“I cannot linger any longer,” Estelle murmured, covering your shaking hands with her own. “But remember how I got out of Hel. Find that power buried within you and rattle the stars with it. I will always be there alongside you, my child. You are never alone.”

You turned to say something, another hundred questions racing through your mind, but the world around you glowed as the Mother faded into the light. Within a few seconds, she had gone.

Once again, you looked at the clearing around you. The marks on the earth where the bodies had lain seemed to glow, calling out to you. A force deep within you sung in response, begging you to release it. As you poured over Estelle’s words, you recalled how the magic she absorbed allowed her to burst out of Hel and free herself.

Rattle the stars.

Her wording was deliberate. The Night Court was represented by the stars. You knew not the extent of your powers, but if your theory was right, you could make the entire Night Court feel your fury.

And so you closed your eyes, and let the clearing slip away as you let that power you’d been pushing down surge through you. It felt like you were falling, the clearing swallowing up as you descended into a void of light.

*********************

It could have been a millenia you were falling, or perhaps a second. As you let yourself go down into the base of whatever power lay within you, you felt memories crash into you all at once. Your mother’s smile as she presented you with her freshly baked scones. The feeling of Nesta’s lips as she kissed you for the first time. Lucien pressing a cold cloth to your head when you were sick. Eris holding you as you danced in the Hewn City. Rhysand’s smirk as he carved into you like a piece of meat.

The rage that boiled up as Rhysand’s face flashed through your mind quickened your plummet, your power bubbling up and ready to overflow. And so you opened your eyes.

A look of horror crossed Rhysand’s features as your eyes glowed with a bright white half a second before his magic went to strike you down. Dark mist collided with pure light as you exploded with a war cry of ancient times.

*********************

White hot rage was all you could feel as you unleashed yourself. Rage of the Spring Court souls whose life forces you had absorbed crying out with you for vengeance against the Night Court. Rhysand was thrown back, Azriel too as your light exploded. The walls around you crumbled, your chains shattering as everything around you came crashing down. The earth beneath your feet shook, the rock from the prison walls flying a hundred feet out to either side.

Wind ripped against your face as the mountain your cell had been inside crumbled away before you, creating avalanches of stone whose impact upon the ground sounded like thunder. Your blood sang, as if the life force within you was happy to be used. Surprisingly, Velaris was visible in the distance – you had thought your prison would be some remote mountain in Illyria. But perhaps Rhys knew that’s what everyone would assume, and keeping you closer to his home would keep you from being discovered.

Out of the shadows, Rhysand and Azriel appeared from the smoke, coughing violently. As they finally opened their eyes to look at you, pure wonder crossed their faces. You didn’t have to look down at yourself to know you were glowing with that same light Estelle had. Your gaze landed upon Azriel, who froze like a statue as it landed on him.

He didn’t cower, or scurry away. He simply gazed at you in awe for a few more moments before dipping his head, bowing before your presence. Rhys, on the other hand, got to his feet and snarled.

“What are you?” The High Lord hissed, gathering dark mist between his fingertips.

“I am Life,” The voice you responded with was not entirely your own – it was ancient and prophetic, with the authority of a god. “And your court has taken everything from me. You will pay for your crimes, High Lord Rhysand.”

Rhys made a vicious noise, talons of mist forming at his fingertips. You quickly realised that despite what you had just done, you had no clue how to defend yourself with your power. But before he could make the first blow, a ring of silver fire burst through the air and surrounded him, accompanied by a fierce roar from the sky. As you looked up, letting your eyes adjust to the bright daylight, you gasped at the sight before you.

Three dragons were flying towards the ruined mountain. One black, one silver, and one gold. The golden one was without a rider, circling the ruins around you and crying out. A familiar redhead was perched atop the black one, golden armour shining in the midday sun.

Eris, a golden flame atop a black fire breathing mount, had come to your rescue. But it was the silver dragon your eyes were drawn to, and that piece in your chest that had spent the last few weeks reaching out to Nesta crackled with excitement as you gazed upon the silver dragon’s mount.

Dressed in red, scaling armour was Nesta. Even from the ground, you could see her silver eyes glow in the same shade as the flames surrounding Rhysand. She had the wrathful look of a death goddess as she descended with her dragon, its silver wings creating hurricane like gusts of wind as it hovered before you and Rhys.

Nesta and Eris had come to save you.

You couldn’t help but glance at Azriel, who seemed sagged with relief. Your throat closed up with emotion – the spymaster knew Eris and Nesta would show up, and likely told them exactly where.

“Nesta.” Rhys growled, staring up at his sister-in-law with anger. “Leave.”

“Not without (Y/N).” Nesta’s voice was clear and strong, commanding Rhys like a queen commanding her subjects. Her dragon roared furiously at Rhysand, causing the High Lord to flinch.

“Dragons?” He sputtered, coughing as the smoke from the silver flames blew in his face. “What… how?”

“You have your surprises, Rhysand, and I have mine.” Eris piped up, landing his black dragon on the ground. The earth shook with its impact, sending more rocks crashing down the remains of the mountain.

Weariness took over your body, and you felt the light begin to fade as your magic retreated.

No no no, You cursed to yourself, trying to summon it again. But every muscle in your body ached from the sudden surge, unable to bear any more magic. You felt helpless again, trapped. Rhysand tried to take a step towards you, but scurried back as the ground once again shook, this time behind you.

The golden dragon had landed right behind you and let out a vicious roar towards Rhysand, its eyes glowing with fury. It stood protectively over your shoulder, towering over you menacingly in a way that promised certain death to anyone who made a move.

“Dragons are protective creatures,” Eris said. “I wouldn’t get any closer.”

“You’ve invaded my court,” Rhysand hissed. “This is an act of war.”

Eris chuckled. “Technically, you declared war first. We’re just finishing what you started.”

Before anyone could speak up, a horn sounded from the ridge in the distance. You whirled around, the motion making you slightly dizzy. But your eyes were clear as ever as the banners of the Spring Court appeared over the hill.

Armoured bodies marched in synch as soldiers approached on horseback, led by none other than Lucien. His cloak streamed behind him in the wind as he loped towards the scene of the wreckage. You nearly wept, not having seen him since he rescued you. From the look on his face, Lucien felt the same way.

A different type of roar was carried fast in the wind, and a mighty beast winnowed in front of the army and led the march. Its elk-like antlers and massive body sped ahead of his troops with his great stride, bounding towards you.

“What is going on here?” Rhysand demanded, unable to hide the slight panic from his voice.

“You started this war when you stole (Y/N) from Spring,” Eris said coolly, patting his dragon. “We’ve found it in our best interests to align with Tamlin over the matter, not you.”

The dragons did not react as Tamlin’s beast form landed right beside them, growling. Tears streamed down your face in relief – the High Lord you had looked up to, the male you had helped get back on his feet, had joined in on the effort to save you.

“Rhysand.” Tamlin growled in greeting.

“If this is some sort of revenge plan on Feyre–” Rhysand began, but was quickly interrupted.

“This is not about her,” The High Lord of Spring snapped. “This is about (Y/N). You have kidnapped and imprisoned an esteemed member of my court, which is considered an act of war. I do not want to shed blood, but we will if you refuse to let her return to me.”

“(Y/N) is a member of my court now.” Rhys responded, evening out his voice. You knew he was trying to put on his collected mask, but it was cracked and slipping. You snorted at the weakness of his voice, and the dragon behind you made a similar noise, as if it was mirroring you.

“Is she?” Lucien said, halting his horse next to Tamlin and looking at Rhysand with a hatred you didn’t know he had. “Because she is still registered as a member of Spring. You never opened any accounts or filed any legal documents with her name, so according to the law there is no proof that you have taken her in as an official member. Which means you have wrongfully imprisoned a member of another court.”

“This is absurd.” Rhys scoffed. “Get out of my court. Now. This is my business.”

“Hand (Y/N) over and we will.” Lucien responded. The armies of the Spring Court halted a few metres behind the dragons, hands clasping their weapons, ready for the order to jump into action.

Malice glittered in Rhys’ eyes. You knew he wouldn’t give up easily, not when you had already made him look weak once. “No.” He said firmly.

No sooner had the syllable left his lips did a band of silver fire wrap around his throat. He cried out in pain as the flame danced, licking at his skin but not quite burning. The silver dragon’s roar turned all eyes to Nesta, and your heart jumped at the sight.

Nesta had stood up on her dragon’s back, silver flames wrapped around her fingertips and arms. The clouds darkened above everyone, thunder rumbling in the distance as her eyes glowed brighter.

“You locked me up.” Nesta’s voice was cold as ice and sharp as steel. Nobody moved a muscle as it echoed alongside the eerie cries of the wind. “I helped you, dozens of times. And you locked me up because I didn’t cope with the war YOU dragged me into in the way you deemed acceptable. I was an object to you, one to use and exploit when it suited you only to lock me away again when you were done. None of your circle has had any respect for me, Rhysand. From the beginning, you have pitted yourselves against me because it’s easier to make me the bad guy than take a look at your own flaws and mistakes. You took my human life, my money, my house, and everything I had. I was never a person to you, just a problem.”

Even Tamlin had gone completely still as Nesta twisted her hand, causing another band of fire to appear. This time, it bound Rhys’ hands and ankles, forcing him to his knees. Black mist attempted to make its way through the fire, but was rapidly quenched. Rhysand’s magic was no match for Nesta’s fury.

“I am taking my life back, Rhysand.” Nesta said. “And you and my sister will have no say or part in it. Do not come after me, do not try and bring me back here. If you try, I will burn you to nothing but ash.”

Rhysand growled, thrashing against Nesta’s fire. “Azriel!” He barked. “Do something!”

The shadowsinger was pale faced, surveying the scene before him. “Let her go,” He said sternly. “This is a fight we cannot win.”

You found your feet again, standing up on shaky legs. You summoned more magic – your body protested, but you ignored it as a shimmering white gag wrapped around Rhysand’s mouth, joining his silver flames.

“This isn’t a debate.” You panted, the weight of your tattered, shredded dress making you want to collapse. But you relented. “I am leaving with them, and you will let me.”

Tamlin’s beast form crawled towards Rhysand, growling. “I was wrong to lock Feyre up, I know that.” He spat. “But don’t pretend like you didn’t do the exact same thing to Nesta and (Y/N).”

Rhys mumbled something through the gag, but was ignored. You felt a nudge, and the golden dragon was gently pushing its snout into you. You placed your hand on its nose, letting the beast inhale your scent.

“Zorzimril says it’s time to go.” Eris quipped, smirking down at you. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You nodded, glancing up at Nesta. Your mate.

Her eyes were locked on you, and a faint tear ran down her cheek. Tentatively, you reached towards the spell-made bond. Nesta?

I…. I can’t believe I’m hearing your voice. Nesta’s response came, and so did your tears. Your lungs shook as you inhaled deeply between sobs.

Me too.

There will be time to catch up later. Come, let’s leave.

The golden dragon had lowered its shoulder to the ground and looked at you expectantly. Tentatively, you climbed onto its back, grasping the horns down its spine as you settled yourself. From the view on dragonback, you surveyed the site you had been standing on. Rubble from the mountain was everywhere, the great peak crumbled into a small hill. The gags on Rhys had disappeared, but he remained kneeling, face twisted with anger. Azriel stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder and giving Eris a slight nod. Tamlin and Lucien stood side by side once again, united with a common cause. Your heart swelled as you recognized the faces of the soldiers they brought – many of them fae that you had taken into the manor after losing their homes to Hybern. You could see it in their eyes that they had come not just because they were ordered to, but because they wanted to help you like you had helped them.

“Let’s get out of this wretched court.” Eris sighed, winking at you.

“Wait.” You said as an idea popped into your head. “I have something I want to do first.”

Nesta smirked at you, knowing exactly what you meant.

*********************

You, Nesta, and Eris soared on dragonback through the Night Court, approaching the Inner Circle’s mountainside cabin. You relished in the cold air whipped across your face, having not felt fresh air in weeks. Zorzimril happily flew you alongside Nesta, making happy growling noises as the excitement of what you were about to do made you jittery.

As your dragons approached the cabin, they stopped, hovering in the air above it. You looked towards Nesta and Eris, and they gave you a nod. You shouted the command Nesta had taught you, and Zorzimril unleashed a torrent of flames upon the cabin. The scent of burnt wood filled the air as the structure was quickly engulfed. Within ten seconds, it was reduced to ash.

And so the three of you flew to each remote residence of the inner circle, making sure it was away from the city before burning it to the ground. With every palace set aflame you whopped with delight, causing Eris to chuckle. It was satisfying, watching their luxuries burn down while half of Illyria was starving and poor. The Inner Circle had fled to the River House, the one shared residence of theirs that remained intact due to it being in the city centre. You did not want to punish innocent people for the crimes of their leader, like Feyre had done to your court. No, this was proper vengeance. And you relished in it.

Despite your exhaustion and pain from the last few weeks, you let yourself cheer and cry out on the back of Zorzimril as you soared through the air between Nesta and Eris, headed for the thicket of the autumn trees in the distance, leaving the Night Court behind you.

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autumnshighlady · 11 months

Text

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 14)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Reader and Azriel have a talk, Nesta discovers Eris’ secret

warnings: Night Court slander, semi graphic torture, Rhysand is horrible

word count: 7.1k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: IM BACKKKKKK!!!!!! SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! This is some of my worst writing but I love the concept so here ya go, I hope this was worth the wait! More action coming soon, chapter 16/17 are gonna be HUGE!!!!!! x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 /

read on ao3

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READER POV

You didn’t know how long it had been since Rhysand left you bloody and strung up in the cell. In some ways, you were grateful that the past while had been a blur. Your memory was a haze of flashes of searing pain, Rhysand’s voice in the background demanding you reveal the bond to him and admit the details of your conspiracy against his court. Yet you did not break, even as those tendrils of dark power carved into your already open wounds.

Despite not being able to feel her on the other side of the bond, Nesta was what got you through it. The thought of her in Autumn, far away from the Night Court’s reach, made you grit your teeth and fight the urge to crumble in front of the High Lord. You closed your eyes and pictured the eldest Archeron sister wandering through the paths of the woods, brilliant leaves of red and gold falling around her and landing on the soft grass. Her creamy skin adorned in a soft emerald dress, that golden-brown hair trailing down her back, finally free. You pictured her happy, content in her new environment. With Eris.

Even in your half-conscious state, you wondered how well the two were getting along. While the Inner Circle thought the Autumn heir was a cruel, sadistic bastard, you always knew Eris as your best friend’s older brother… the aloof, sarcastic male who would attempt to charm you to piss off Lucien. You never told Lucien, but every wink Eris had sent your way made butterflies swarm in your stomach. Eris was clever, a good intellectual match for Nesta at least. You had faith in her to be able to navigate the Autumn Court politics. After all, she had been raised to be a perfect courtier. Why the Inner Circle wanted to ignore that and make her into a warrior instead was mind-blowing. Even Lucien, who was incredibly skilled at negotiating and getting along with other courts, was treated like trash by the Inner Circle.

You missed him terribly. It had been months since you had seen Lucien, who was reportedly dwelling in the human lands now. You suspected he was being fed lies by Feyre and Rhys about your involvement in their court. No doubt their version of the story told a tale that painted you as the obedient female who eagerly immersed herself into the Night Court, grateful to be given this chance.

The eerie quiet of the cell was broken by the rush of air in the corner, the soft sound itself deafening against your pounding head. You couldn’t recall the last time you drank water, your throat dry as sandpaper. You didn’t lift your head up, for the weight of it was too much for your neck to bear. You did nothing, just accept the fact that Rhysand had returned for another crack at you.

But it was not Rhysand’s sneering voice that muttered, “Mother above.”

“Az…” Your voice was raspy and almost unrecognisable as you lifted your chin up. The spymaster stood before you, eyes widened slightly. His jaw was tense, and there was something about his expression you couldn’t decipher.

When he didn’t say anything, you tried again. “Please… help….”

“What happened?” He asked coldly, his shadows swirling around him. You flinched as they approached, drifting towards you like Rhysand’s mist had. The action didn’t go unnoticed. Azriel blinked, the only indication of surprise he was likely to give. Still, you could see it in his eyes as he put the pieces together. Not once had you ever flinched from the shadows that hovered around him. Until Rhysand’s own likened darkness had cut through your skin like butter.

“Water…” You mumbled. For a moment, you thought Azriel was going to ignore your request and continue to just stand there staring at you. But after what appeared to be a moment of contemplation, the spymaster pulled out a small canteen and unscrewed the lid. With his scarred hands he lifted it up to your lips. Your entire body sagged in relief as you eagerly drank the water, taking as much as he would give you. After downing about half of the liquid, Azriel stepped back.

“Thank you.” You said, voice clearer this time now that your dry throat had vanished.

“Rhysand did this to you.” Azriel said more as a statement than a question. After training with the spymaster for months, you could read him a bit easier than before. There was something behind his expression, revealed by the widened eyes and tensed jaw, that made you think whatever Azriel had expected his High Lord to do in his interrogation of you, this was not it.

So you nodded, and the tears that had been pooling in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. You hated crying in front of Azriel, or anyone really. But you were too tired to hold your tears back. Days in this cell, tortured without food or water… It was too much.

“Gods,” Azriel muttered, running a hand through his tousled locks. “When Rhysand told me he wanted to interrogate you himself, I didn’t expect…. this.”

You choked out a laugh. “Why does it matter to you anyways, Azriel? You were willing to send me to die on an impossible mission. My fate here is really no different.”

Azriel stiffened visibly, brows narrowing. “How did you–”

“Does it matter?” You interrupted bitterly, twisting your wrist around in the chain to try and relax the stiff muscles.

“You know if you want any shot of getting out of here, you’re going to have to tell the truth.” Azriel growled, his voice dropping. “You’ve been hiding things from me this entire time, and I’d like to know what. And why, starting with how you knew about the confidential mission to the continent before I even told you.”

You laughed again, a hollow, bitter sound echoing throughout the cell chamber. You were beyond caring at this point. No matter how you answered their questions, or if you answered them at all, there was no escaping the fact that telling the truth or not, you would not make it out of these dungeons. “You don't understand,” You retorted. “It doesn’t matter how I know. Telling you how will not change the fact that neither you nor Rhys will let me out of here anytime soon.”

The shadowsinger folded his arms, his cold gaze unblinking. “You do realise that if you want me to help, you’re going to have to be straight with me.”

It killed you that you couldn’t tell Azriel what was really going on. Some part of you yearned to, hoping that he’d finally get his head out of his High Lord’s ass. But you couldn’t shake how he just left you in here with Rhysand. Rhys apparently has his claws so deep in every member of the Inner Circle, it would take a lot more than a few months of training one on one with the spymaster for him to change.

“Please, just…” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you hung your head, ashamed. “Kill me. Get it over with.”

You heard him scoff. “I am not going to kill you.”

“You basically were by letting me be sent to die on the continent.”

“Damnit, (Y/N) I was trying to help you!” Azriel snapped, his tone rising.

You froze as you were lifting your head up. “What?”

Azriel rubbed his face with a scarred hand, leaning against one of the rocks that jutted out from the wall. He looked exasperated, the weariness on his face visible even in the dim lighting of the cell. “I was trying to find a way to get you out of the mission.” He said. “I told Rhys it would take months, years even to get you ready for that level of assignment. He did not listen. I spent those four weeks trying to find a way for you to escape, to get out of here.”

Your mind reeled from more than just exhaustion. Azriel had been trying to help you this whole time? He may not be brave enough to put his foot down to Rhysand, but had enough sense to try and get you out of this mess.

He continued. “I was trying to set up refuge for you, in a village far south on the continent. You’d have been safe there, if you laid low. I would have told Rhys that my spies reported you were killed.”

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask. “Why lie to him for me? He’s your high lord.”

“Yes. And he always will be. But that does not mean I am not allowed to have my opinions on the way he handles some matters. It is unfair to drag someone into this line of work who does not want it, and it is even more unfair to send them on assignments they are not ready for.”

You chose your next words carefully. “You know why he did it, right?”

Azriel only stared at you, saying nothing.

“He wants me dead,” You whispered. “He wants me dead and you know it. That’s why he arranged the mission-”

“No,” Azriel cut you off, his voice sharp. “He was desperate for another spy, and could not send me. Braillyn would have expected that. You were the best one for the job, because they don’t know you. He just didn’t understand that you weren’t ready.”

You shook your head, heart sinking at Azriel’s denial. He wasn’t stupid, some part of him had to know the truth – that Rhysand wanted you dead because your defiance of him could cause unrest, even more so if you were plotting against him. Which you were. The first big step had been a success, getting Nesta out of the Night Court in a way that, by the law, prevented them from coming after her.

There was much more you had in store for the Inner Circle, but only time would tell if you would be able to pull it off. None of which would happen if you did not escape this cell.

“That’s not true, Azriel.” You said. “I wish you would see it. He knew I wasn’t ready, but if I died then he wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore. But if I somehow survived then he’d get the intel he wanted.”

The spymaster’s glare hardened. You shrank back slightly as he propped himself upright once again and stalked towards you. Large wings flared slightly, a menacing sight as he asked you firmly, “I will ask you this one more time. How did you find out about the mission?”

You didn’t answer, wondering if he was going to try and carve answers out of you like Rhysand had. Azriel had likely done such a thing countless times, perhaps in this very cell. Your wounds were crusted over and raw, fae healing abilities diminished in the darkness of the prison.

“It was Eris, wasn’t it?” Azriel said after a few minutes, bitterness and disappointment lacing his voice. “That’s why he proposed to Nesta, and why she insisted on you coming with them. It was part of a plan, wasn’t it? A plan for you and Nesta to escape.”

You did not bother confirming nor denying it, any defiance you had long ago wilted. Half your body had gone numb, and the other half ached beyond belief. You could feel yourself slipping further and further away, a discouragingly slow descent towards death. It was almost worse than the torture itself, being so close to death’s arms embracing you and carrying you to freedom, yet not quite there yet.

“Why?” Azriel asked sternly, taking your silence as an answer in and of itself. “Why would you want so badly to leave? To take Nesta away from her family?”

Bitterness coursed through you, igniting a fire in your voice. “If that is truly how you see it then you won’t even try to understand.” You hissed at him.

Azriel perched himself atop one of the rocks in the corner, those massive wings folding in. He shrugged, arms folded. “Humour me.” He challenged dryly.

These moments were crucial, you knew. It was your chance to either convince Azriel to help you, or to seal your fate and be locked in here forever. The choice weighed upon your already heavy shoulders like a rock. Rhysand would likely return soon and Azriel would disappear again, along with this one chance. And so you chose.

“Nesta will never be part of the Inner Circle, and you know it.” You said. “All you guys have done is try and muzzle her, control her, make her docile enough to sit quietly alongside you at the table but never truly be a part of everything.”

“We were trying to help her–” Azriel interrupted, but you quickly cut him off.

“By forcing her to train? Do something she never wanted? There are many ways to help someone, Azriel. This method may have worked for you and Cassian, but it is not for everyone. Nesta was hurting after the war, and all she received was judgement. You lot consume a bottle of wine every Friday night at Rita’s, but when Nesta does it, suddenly it’s a bad thing? You’ve all slept around, but when Nesta does it, she should be shamed? You have all held her to an impossible standard and refused to give her time to heal. But none of you ever cared about her healing, only how she made you look. You’ve done exactly to her what Tamlin did to your High Lady.”

You expected Azriel to argue, to fight back in defence of his found family. But he merely stared at you, eyes unreadable. You took it as a sign to continue.

“Nesta is drowning in the Night Court.” You said, locking eyes with the shadowsinger. “She will never be accepted here, and being a warrior is not what she wants. You are not stupid, Azriel. You know this. Feyre has found her new family, and that is fine. Let Nesta find her own. Please, just let her go.”

The eerie echoes throughout the cell were the only sound for the next few minutes. Your gut churned at Azriel’s reaction to your rant. He had said nothing, made no defence nor an agreement. That was almost more nerve-wracking to you.

“You see much of yourself in Nesta, do you not?” Azriel finally spoke, unfolding his arms. “That’s why you resorted to involving Eris to help get Nesta out. You have known him for as long as you’ve known his little brother, so you went to him for aid, did you not?”

“Yes.” You muttered. You didn’t have it in you to deny anything anymore. With what you had already admitted, Azriel would figure everything out on his own. You just hoped that Nesta had solidified her position in the Autumn Court quickly enough to prevent a war from breaking out.

“And he was at the meeting where Rhysand discussed sending you to the continent,” The spymaster continued, hazel eyes gleaming in the darkness. “So that’s how you knew. And you came up with the idea of marriage to get Nesta out, did you not?”

“Yes.”

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Azriel stood up, once again looking down at your withered form. “That plan involved a clean way out for everyone except you. Why? Were you wanting to get sent to the continent to die?”

“It is because she loves Nesta.”

The arrogant voice of the High Lord filled the room, chilling your bones. Your entire body went stiff with panic, and even Azriel’s eyes widened as Rhysand appeared from behind you. Clearly, he hadn’t expected his brother back so soon.

The sound of footsteps and a dark presence was all your senses noted as you closed your eyes, feeling Rhysand walk around you to stand next to Azriel. You couldn’t bring yourself to open them, to look into the face that had sneered as tendrils of dark mist tortured you for hours.

“Good job, Az, you got her to talk!” Rhys clapped Azriel’s stiff shoulder, shock still evident on the spymaster’s face. “She said a hell of a lot more to you than she did to me. But I don’t recall ordering you to interrogate her. Unless my excellent memory is wrong, of course.”

Azriel straightened his spine, glaring at the High Lord. “You didn’t,” He said plainly. “But seeing the results of your last meeting with her and how little information you gathered, I believe it best you leave the rest of it to me.”

You finally opened your eyes, greeted by the practically feline smile of the High Lord. He bore a triumphant look on his face, one that made your body shake with nerves. Somehow, he had heard almost everything – Azriel’s shadows not even detecting his presence. Deep down, you knew that you were never getting out of here now.

“No.” Rhysand said. “You’ve done enough. You can carve her up all you want and nothing will make the magic mark appear, so I don’t need you for this next part. You are dismissed, Azriel.”

Unlike before, Azriel stood his ground. “No,” He growled. “As your spymaster, it is my job to be involved in these things. I am staying.”

Rhysand merely shrugged, showing no signs that he cared about his brother defying him. “Suit yourself. But you are not to intervene, do you understand?”

“Intervene with what?”

Rhysand hummed, taking a step towards you. You flinched as he brought his hand up, taking one of your tangled locks and pushing it behind your ear. An act so seemingly gentle, filling you with more fear than you had ever known.

“You look famished, darling.” He crooned, stroking your ice cold cheek. “If you show me the mark that allows you to communicate with Nesta, we can get you a nice hot plate of food and some water.”

With your mouth no longer dry, you gathered up as much saliva as you could manage and spat in the High Lord’s face. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Azriel’s jaw drop open slightly at the action, and you almost laughed.

But Rhysand only chuckled, wiping your spit off his face before standing back up to his full height. “I may not have been able to get into your head before,” He said. “But now that you are weakened, I will be able to break through your shields.”

Searing pain shot through your skull and you screamed. Those dark tendrils that had sliced your flesh before were now in your head, scraping down your shields like nails on a chalkboard. The pain was unlike anything you had experienced, the worst migraine of your life times a hundred.

Through the screaming, which you weren’t sure if it was in your head or out loud, you could hear Azriel’s muffled voice in the background. “Stop it, Rhys,” He was protesting. “You’ll kill her.”

Rhysand ignored him, continuing to try and force his way into your head. It felt like the entire force of the sea had come crashing down on your skull, pushing and pounding in every direction in search of a crack. Your entire body shook, the pain from your physical wounds nonexistent in comparison.

“This isn’t right.” Azriel was saying. “I will get her to talk, just stop this. She’ll never trust us if you keep doing this.”

“I don’t care about her trust.” You heard Rhysand say, his voice both in your head and echoing throughout the room. “Once I get into her head and get what I need, she will be of no more use to us. Then she’ll be your problem.”

The sensation of white hot needles pricking into your head took over, and you let out a wail. It was a thousand times worse than before, especially in your starved state.

Please, You begged the Mother, or any gods out there. Please kill me. Grant me this mercy and end it.

Amidst the pain and your screams, a warm sensation brushed your shoulder, like someone’s hand was grasping it in reassurance. You can do this. It seemed to say, in a voice so familiar yet like nothing you had ever heard before.

“What are you saying?” Azriel growled.

The High Lord’s next sentence was all you heard before darkness overtook your vision. “When I am done, I need you to kill her, Azriel.”

NESTA POV

The smell of a freshly made breakfast sandwich and tea roused Nesta from her sleep. As her eyes crept open to meet the golden glow of the sunrise, she became rapidly aware of the presence lounging beside her. Nesta’s vision focused after a few blinks, a male with red hair coming into focus.

Instantly, she shot up, wincing as the pounding headache she apparently woke up with protested. “What the fuck, Eris?” She practically yelled, bunching up the bedsheets to cover her nightgown.

“Ah, finally you’re awake!” The prince said casually, as if he was not laying next to her sleeping form with his head propped up against the bed frame. “Half the day has gone by already while you slept.”

“It’s sunrise, asshole.” Nesta hissed furiously, wishing she had a dagger nearby to stab him with. “Were you watching me sleep?”

“Exactly,” Eris quipped, turning to the next page in the book that he was currently reading. “And no, watching you sleep is rather boring. Especially when you snore. Besides, this novel is way more interesting.”

Growling, Nesta snatched the book from him after noting it was a smutty romance one she had snuck from the library and was currently reading. Eris smirked knowingly, making Nesta’s cheeks burn. “I did not take you for a romance novel type of female,” He purred, arrogantly reaching up his arm to rest behind his head. “Especially ones with such erotica.”

Nesta gave him a hard shove, unbalancing him. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

Eris chuckled, raising his hands in mock defenselessness. “But I brought you breakfast! Am I really not allowed to bring my loving fiancé breakfast in bed?”

She shot daggers at him with her eyes. “Your loving fiancé is going to murder you before the wedding if you don’t get out within the next fifteen seconds.”

Eris sighed in defeat. “I do not know what I did to deserve this type of treatment from my future wife.” He muttered in obvious sarcastic pity, but climbing off the bed nonetheless. Nesta crossed her arms over her chest, cursing inwardly at the headache that plagued her. If she had better control of her magic, she’d send a stream of silver fire after Eris’ ass on his way out.

It had been one week since the dinner with Beron where she was granted one month to train her powers, and every day had been the same routine. Get woken up before the sun has even risen, ride Diadoro and Calypso to a remote clearing in the forest about an hour away, try over and over again to follow Eris’ instructions only for either nothing to happen or absolute catastrophe. The day usually ended in an argument, either about training, Eris’ progress in finding you, or where he was on his plan to dispose of his father. And then followed by a very silent ride back to the manor.

“Meet me by the lake in 10 minutes.” Eris called out as he shut the door, leaving Nesta to eat the breakfast laid across the tray. She groaned, rubbing her eyes and wishing for just an hour of rest.

Sleep hadn’t been coming easily lately. Every night was the same dream – Nesta running around a dark maze with walls of stone, trying to get to you. She could hear your screams as if they were real, echoing throughout her head whenever she was left alone with her own thoughts. Eris insisted he was doing everything he could to find you, but the more time passed the more worried she got. Every day Nesta woke up, she was plagued by the aching in her chest.

In record time, she managed to consume half of her breakfast and get herself dressed. The outfits Eris had always prepared for her were admittedly perfect, and today was no different. A forest green gown with gold buttons up the front, and a subtle dark pink trim. Nesta had no idea where Eris was pulling these gowns from, but she didn’t complain as she slipped on the comfortable material.

Eris was waiting with Calypso and Diadoro, the creatures tacked up and ready to go. Calypso was pawing at the ground impatiently, as if she had been waiting a while.

“At last she graces us with her presence.” Eris called out as Nesta approached hurriedly. It had taken her an extra few minutes to get ready, as her hair did not cooperate in its usual cornet. For the first time in Autumn, Nesta had simply pulled her golden brown locks back into a simple braid before hurrying out the door.

“You said ten minutes, I took fifteen, get over it.” She snapped, taking Diadoro’s reins from Eris’ outstretched hand. “Besides, I needed a few minutes to recover from the fright of looking at your face the first thing waking up.”

Eris chuckled. “A sight to look forward to after our wedding day, my dear.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, climbing into the saddle as Eris held the stirrup in place for her. He had insisted Nesta get used to riding, something she had protested at first. But admittedly, it was fun, not that she’d ever admit that in front of Eris. As the Prince got on Calypso’s back, the pair and their horses headed off through the path they had taken every day for the last week.

It was a scenic route, the Autumn hues throughout the forest bringing Nesta a sense of calm that she had never quite found at the Night Court. She was no longer always cold, bones chilled by the crisp night air that seemed to somehow be present during the day, even though none of the Inner Circle seemed to feel it. She only wished she could share this stroll with you.

After about twenty minutes of riding, Nesta decided to change things up and break the usual silence that they rode in. “Where are you with your search for her?” She said quietly.

“Well, my spies are convinced she is still somewhere in the Night Court.” Eris responded cautiously, his voice flat.

“So why can’t we go back and get her?” Nesta pressed as they continued to ride through the trees.

“Many, many reasons,” Eris said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Firstly, you know that the High Lord and the brute would snatch you up immediately. You would never get out after that. Secondly, neither of us knows the terrain. The Night Court is large, and she could be anywhere. It is not easy to pinpoint exactly where she is out of the dozens of places she could be.”

“Eris, every night I have the same dream. I’m running through an underground maze of stone, with walls of black rock. And I hear her voice. And you’re saying this doesn’t help at all?”

The Autumn princeling sighed, halting the horses. “Correct. Because the Night Court has hundreds of mountains, all of which could be harbouring some underground dungeon. So no, it doesn’t help.”

Deep down, Nesta knew he was right. She tangled her fingers in Diadoro’s mane to soothe the sea of worry churning within her. “Why did we stop?” She asked after a few moments.

Eris turned to face her, his eyes serious for once. “Nesta, I know how badly you want to find her. I do too. But with how well hidden and warded the Night Court is, not to mention remoteness, it is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. And if the magic from your bond can’t reach her, I’m afraid I’ve done everything I can.”

“No.” Nesta refused to believe it. You had been her anchor to this earth for months, her reason for keeping her chin up and moving through the relentless stormy sea it seemed she was destined to wade through.

Eris’ voice was gentle. “Nesta, you are immortal now. You have a long life ahead of you. Clinging onto this will only hold you back.”

“Easy for you to say,” Nesta shot back, not caring how deep her words cut. “You don’t care about anyone. Must be no problem for you to just drop people once you’ve gotten what you want.”

For the first time since she had known him, Eris’ face fell slightly. Regret washed over Nesta immediately at the hurt flickering in his amber eyes. Insults were part of Nesta and Eris’ routine now, but this…. She knew she had gone too far.

“Do you truly think so little of me?” Eris asked, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. There was no trace of the arrogant prince she had grown used to.

“I just…” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t know what to think anymore. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

“I know. And I’m doing my best to get things back on track, but it’s proving almost impossible.”

Nesta swallowed the familiar lump in her throat that indicated tears were going to begin welling up soon. “I know.” She said before coughing and regaining her composure. “Anywho, you were the one insisting we were late. Let’s get going.”

Before she could move Diadoro forward, Eris turned Calypso to the right and headed off the path. “We’re doing something else today,” He called out. “Follow me.”

Nesta didn’t have to do anything, as Diadoro was already following the white horse off the path, expertly stepping over roots and branches in his way. “Where are we going?” She demanded.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Tell me.”

“That would ruin the surprise.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do. Keep moving.”

Nesta huffed, but didn’t protest. She had never been on this route before, and the further they got the rockier it was. Trees grew sparser, and the soil became harder. The journey reminded Nesta of something from one of the fantasy books in the library at the House of Wind, and with a pang she thought about Gwyn and Emerie.

She wondered how her disappearance had been explained. Most likely, they had been told that Nesta was kidnapped by Eris or something. Nesta missed them terribly – Emerie’s snorting laughter, the way Gwyn’s eyes would light up as she explained something in her research, how they both took an instant liking to you.

“Eris?” Nesta asked about thirty minutes into their trek.

“Yes, my fearsome goddess?” Eris singsonged over his shoulder in response.

“Can I bring my two friends to Autumn?”

“I did not realise you had friends other than (Y/N) in the Night Court.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, I do. I met them at my training, and…” Her voice trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it without seeming weak. Nesta had never needed anyone before, but the lack of Gwyn and Emerie’s presence in her life lately was beginning to weigh on her.

“You miss them.” Eris finished her sentence for her. “Once I am High Lord, we can invite them to come here.”

“For a visit?”

He shrugged. “Or to stay permanently, if that is what they wish.”

Nesta’s heart fluttered with excitement at the idea. She knew Gwyn would love it here certainly, once she got used to it. Emerie too, who would be relieved at being miles away from her vile family. “I’ll hold you to that, Eris.” She said sternly.

“Consider it one of the many wedding gifts I shall spoil you with.”

Nearly two hours later, Eris finally halted Calypso and got off. It was the longest ride Nesta had been on thus far, and her inner thighs ached. Luckily, the prince was already reaching up to grab her waist, lifting her out of the saddle with an impressive amount of strength.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, cheeks red with embarrassment before asking, “Where are we?”

There was nothing notable in her surroundings, save for a rocky cliff that loomed above them a few metres ahead. Calypso and Diadoro had pressed their noses to the ground in search of grass amidst the sparsity.

“All will be revealed.” Eris winked, then extended his hand. He glanced up at the cliff, and Nesta crossed her arms.

“I am not scaling that cliff.” She said sternly, causing Eris to chuckle.

“I would not make you, certainly in those skirts,” He said. “We’re winnowing up there.”

“You know I hate winnowing.”

“Fine, if you’d like to climb it then I’ll see you in a few hours–”

Nesta quickly grabbed Eris’ hand, cutting him off. It tingled against her own, like electricity in her veins was jumping out to meet his own. She ignored his smirk as the world went askew and the ground fell away underneath her feet.

A split second later, they stood atop the cliff. The wind immediately whipped across Nesta’s cheeks, but it was not cold. Oddly enough, it was warmer up here, like the very rocks they stood on were heated. The colourful forest spanned across the horizon, bright with the now late morning sun. Nesta’s braid whipped in the wind, coming undone within seconds.

“I’ve been keeping this from my father,” Eris said, turning away from the edge of the cliff and walking away, leaving Nesta to follow. “A secret weapon, if you will.”

Nesta hurried to catch up, her long strides matching his own. “A weapon to kill him with? Up here?”

Eris chuckled, shaking his head. “No, between you and me we are perfectly capable of doing it ourselves. This weapon will help solidify me as the High Lord and prevent other courts from going to war with us. And I think it will help you with your magic.”

Nesta halted, dread forming in her stomach as she thought of the last few magical weapons she encountered. The mask, that took away everything she felt and made her raise an army of the dead. The Cauldron, that stole her humanity away from her and turned her into a creature she had grown up learning to hate and fear. The thought of something else like that made her knees go weak.

“It’s nothing like the Cauldron, I swear to you.” Eris said calmly, as if reading her thoughts. “Come, I promise it’s something entirely different.”

After a second of hesitation, Nesta resumed following Eris. They walked further and further, approaching a large mountain with a cave entrance that was bigger than anything she had ever seen.

“Are we seriously going down there?” Nesta gaped. The closer she got, the warmer the air was. It sang to the silver flames within her, and she felt them dance.

“Yes.” Eris said, igniting a flame in his hand in place of a torch before entering the darkness. Not wanting to lose the light and be stranded in the dark, Nesta followed. They walked down the large cavern, and the further they went the more her power begged to be let out.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Eris asked, pausing at the bottom of the slope they had just crawled down. “Like calls to like, Nesta.”

Eris’ flame didn’t illuminate much, but by the way their footsteps echoed, Nesta could tell whatever chamber they were in was large enough for a small city. “What is this place?” She asked.

As usual, Eris continued his lecture and neglected to answer her question. “You fear your power too much, Nesta, because you haven’t seen anything like it. You are letting your fear control you, and you need confidence if you are to wield your powers in a manner that impresses my father. There are many fire-wielders in this world, Nesta Archeron. Yours may be different, but you can learn from others. And not just me.”

Nesta took in a sharp breath, the taste of smoke and ash on her tongue. “This secret weapon…” She said slowly. “It’s not a ‘what’.... it’s a ‘who’.”

Eris nodded, his pale face a striking gold in the light of the flames. “Do not be afraid.”

Before she could ask what he meant, a low but fierce growl vibrated throughout the chasm. It quaked her bones, and the floor began to tremble with what felt like the footsteps of a large creature. And then another, and another.

Nesta trembled as they grew louder, but refused to shrink back. She would not be a coward, not in front of Eris, even as whatever weapons Eris had approached them. The prince stepped forward, lifting up his flaming hand and illuminating the dark space a bit more to reveal not one, but three massive, scaling heads.

The heads of dragons.

The one in the middle had onyx scales, barely visible within the darkness. Its head was only illuminated by its glowing amber eyes. The one on the right was almost as big, but it had golden scales and larger horns on its head. And the one on the left crawled opposite from Nesta, a shining shade of silver with a longer neck. Each beast exuded sheer power and might, the space in the enormous cavern almost too small for their bodies.

Time seemed to slow down and stop as the three dragons approached, the orange glow from their mouths and bellies lighting the chasm. They were a thousand times bigger than a horse, almost the size of an entire palace.Nesta gawked, and her magic began to thrum excitedly at the beasts. Realistically, her instincts should have screamed at her to run before she was burned to ash, but she felt none. No, Nesta was rooted to the stone in fascination and awe.

Eris approached the black dragon, who lowered its head and growled. For a second, Nesta thought it would simply devour Eris whole. But instead, it let out a crooning noise and pushed its nose into Eris’ flaming palm. He began murmuring to the dragon in a language Nesta didn’t recognize, and the beast purred in response.

Her fixation on Eris with the dragon was broken by a low growl, and she flinched as the silver dragon snaked its head towards her.

“Summon a flame.” Eris instructed, still stroking the snout of the black dragon, despite its head being twenty times his size.

“What?” Nesta said, still frozen in place as the dragon crept towards her.

“Just do it.”

She raised a shaky hand, taking a deep breath. She tried not to think about the size of the dragon’s teeth approaching her as she reached down and grabbed a hold of a silver tendril of her power.

Yes please! It seemed to cry. Let me out to play. Let me make new friends.

Just as Eris had taught her, a ball of silver fire began to dance in the palm of Nesta’s hand. The dragon paused, lowering its head even further towards her hand. Nesta tensed up, but her flames had other plans – they flickered in the direction of the dragon, almost as if they were excited to greet it.

The silver beast made a low rumbling noise in response, and pressed its nose into Nesta’s hand, just as the black dragon did with Eris. She gasped, expecting her flames to burn the creature’s nose and cause a wake of destruction, yet it did not flinch from her fire. Its eyes met Nesta’s, and she felt as if her very soul was being gazed into, as if the dragon could see every raw, vulnerable part of her. The scales were smooth against Nesta’s slightly shaky hand, hotter than the warmest coals yet they did not burn her. Her flames danced along the scales, exploring the dips and horns of the dragons’ head. But it did not seem to mind, only continuing to gaze into Nesta’s eyes.

For a moment, she was overcome with emotion. The sensation of touching a creature so mighty, so powerful, one that she thought only existed in the stories she read. But then she, too, was now a creature that existed in storybooks. One that was admired for its beauty yet feared for its power, much like the very beast before her. It looked at her with such understanding, such intensity Nesta felt like she could both crumble on the spot and conquer the world at the same time.

“Her name is Athariel,” Eris’ voice broke her out of her trance. “I figured you’d like her. The one with me is Morgoth, and the golden one is Zorzimril.”

“I…” Nesta swallowed her emotion, tentatively stroking the dragon’s scales. It made a purring sound, the silver flames dancing around it excitedly.

“I found their eggs here just over a century ago.” Eris explained, his voice echoing in the chamber. “I thought they were rocks. There were rumours of dragons existing at the beginning of the world, but the last rumour comes from the wild hunt. No proof of them existed, until I found the eggs. No amount of research helped me figure out how to un-petrify them, until I felt them call to me. I used my magic and lit the hottest fire I could manage, placing the eggs inside them. A few hours later, they hatched. I’ve been raising them in secret for almost 150 years, training them. They are my secret weapon.”

“Like calls to like…” Nesta murmured, observing how her silver flames played with the dragon, who remained unscathed.

Eris smirked, patting Morgoth on the cheek. “Exactly. I have bonded with Morgoth, and I figured you and Athariel would be a good match. You can learn a lot from her, and she can help you conquer your fear. From everything I’ve learned over the past century, they’re loyal beasts. If you bond with her, she will defend you fiercer than anyone in this realm.”

The thought of this powerful creature looking out for Nesta made her overwhelmed with emotion. Maybe they were both seen as monsters by the rest of the world, but they could face it together, if Athariel let her. Nesta thought back to all the times she felt true fear – at the Hewn City, Illyria, the battlefield, there was no trace of that now. Somehow, she felt safer with this dragon than she had in the Night Court.

Nesta glanced at Zorzimril, the golden beast. “What about her?”

Eris sighed, resting his shoulder against Morgoth’s head. “I had hoped that with (Y/N) here, she would bond with her. It seems like fate, does it not, Nesta Archeron? Three of us, three dragons. I am not particularly religious, but it seems the Mother has set this out for us. Zorzimril is the reason I still have hope that we will find (Y/N).”

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autumnshighlady · 9 months

Text

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 15)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Azriel has a tough decision to make

warnings: Night Court slander, semi graphic torture, Rhysand is horrible, the usual

word count: 5.8k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: oh my god i am so so so sorry this took so long! life has been insane lately i havent had the energy to write. Anywho, this chapter is just the start of something super big so buckle up and look for hints hehe alsO PLEASE GIVE FEEDBACK ON THIS CHAPTER IM BEGGING

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 // part 10 // part 11

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AZRIEL POV

Azriel couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of your limp body, arms strung up like you were a piece of meat dangling from the chains. He had thought himself to be good at shutting off his emotions when it came to his line of work, but this felt different. Wrong, even. It confused him – not once had he ever hesitated, ever even considered disobeying his High Lord’s orders down in these dungeons.

Your hair was matted and lifeless around your face, the weak rise and fall of your chest being the only indication that you were even still alive. The beautiful gown that adorned your body at the ball was now tattered and dirty, barely clinging onto your skin in some places. Azriel gulped as he stared at your unconscious form, wiped out from Rhysand’s attempts to penetrate your mind.

Evidently, the High Lord was beyond frustrated, his brow furrowed and sweaty from the efforts. “I’ve never seen this,” He muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. “Not once. I’ve always been able to get inside people’s heads. Why not hers?”

“I don’t know.” Azriel responded. He felt his shadows curl around his scarred fingers. Normally they did so to encourage him to get the job done, but this time felt different. It was as if they wanted him not to end your life, but to reach out and free you from the shackles. But he ignored them.

Rhys slumped against the wall, panting slightly. “I need answers, Az.” He snapped, voice sharp. “How is this girl able to withstand my magic? And how the hell did she access some ancient spell that allowed this bond to form with Nesta? I would prefer to know before I end things, so whatever shit she may have put in motion can be stopped.”

Azriel stiffened. “End things?

The High Lord sighed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on, Azriel. You know this is how it has to end. She spent months plotting against our court, and possesses some form of magic within her bond with Nesta. She’s a threat and you know it. And threats like that must be eliminated.”

He spoke with that authoritative voice that Azriel had seen bring so many others to their knees in obedience. He felt it tug at his bones, the instinct to obey his High Lord. Azriel had always considered himself loyal, never needing that extra kick to submit to his superior. Until now. “I disagree.” Azriel said sternly. “(Y/N) has lied, yes. But she has shown no signs of intending to inflict harm upon this court. All she wanted was to get out, and she knew we wouldn’t let her.”

“I don’t recall you being this blind, brother.” Rhysand’s voice was low as his violet eyes sternly stared down his spymaster. “Did she flash you her tits during training sessions? Is that why you’ve suddenly gone soft?”

“No. I think we pushed her too hard, too fast into this job she did not want. She had already lost everything in the Spring Court, and when Lucien brought her here she immediately became a prisoner. Did you expect her to bow at your feet and be eternally grateful for letting her stay here? We should have given her a reason to want to become a part of this court, not force her into it within a span of months.”

Rhysand let out a growl, and Azriel knew he was pushing his limits. “Careful, Az.” He said. But Azriel ignored him.

“Can you blame her for resenting us?” The shadowsinger continued, against his better judgement. “Our High Lady destroyed her court, and when Lucien brought her here she was forced to live indebted to the female who allowed her home to be ruined.”

There was a low rumble within the cell as Rhysand’s dark mist began to creep out from behind him. “Choose your next words wisely, Azriel. Or I’ll begin to think you’ve helped her.”

“I didn’t, and you know it. But your protectiveness for your mate is clouding your judgement as a leader, Rhysand. This girl does not deserve to die for what she has done.”

Before he could breathe another word, a sharp pain cut through his throat as Rhys’ dark power wrapped around it, cutting off his air. Shock flooded through him, hazel eyes bulging as the violet eyed male snarled at him. He didn’t try to fight back. Not once had his brother gone this far – sure, they had their fair share of nasty fights, but never like this. No matter how angry they had gotten with each other, neither had ever threatened the life of the other. Until now.

“That is not your call to make, spymaster.” Rhysand snarled furiously. “I am your High Lord before anything else, and you are sworn to me. My word is law, not yours. You will go and search for more insight into this bond between her and Nesta. Whether you find anything on it or not, (Y/N) will die by your hand at dawn tomorrow. You will not protest, and you will not breathe a word about this to anyone. If I sense even for a second that you will disobey me, I will throw you in a cell beside this scheming whore. Am I understood?”

Azriel nodded as best he could, body still frozen in shock. After a moment, Rhysand’s tendrils finally retreated, leaving the spymaster gasping for air. Despite working alongside him, being the executioner to his master for over 500 years, Azriel had never known what it was to be like on the receiving end of his High Lord’s pure fury until now. He glanced over at your strung-up figure, guilt churning in his gut. You had endured this torture for days, a torture Azriel only received a glimpse of.

As the spymaster inhaled deeply kneeling on the cold floor, his shadows whispered to him. He knew deep down that he had a choice to make, one like never before. 500 years of loyalty to Rhysand was being put to the test, something Azriel never thought would happen. Another glance at how intensely Rhys was staring at your imprisoned, starved form was all he needed to winnow away.

*********************

Azriel’s throat still burned from the pressing of Rhys’ dark mist. He kept his demeanour calm as he approached the doors to the library at the House of Wind, even though his stomach was in a thousand knots. He knew what he was about to do was treason at the highest order, and the second Rhys found out he would be flayed alive. The clenching and unclenching of his scarred fingers was the only indication of his disturbance as the spymaster was met with Clotho. Her pale robes shone in the blue light of the library as she approached him.

Shadowsinger, Her elegant writing appeared on the paper in lieu of her voice. What can I do for you?

“I need to see Gwyneth.” Azriel said, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice to not alarm the priestess.

Gwyn is occupied right now. May I take a message?

He gulped nervously. “I’m really sorry, Clotho. But I need her right now.”

That will not be possible. I suggest you return at another time, Azriel.

“Please.” Azriel hated begging, and hated pushing the priestess even more. But before Clotho could script a reply, a gentle voice sounded from behind the shelves a few metres away.

“Azriel?” Gwyn’s red hair appeared, streaming down her flowing robes as she carried an alarming amount of books. “What are you doing here?”

“Gwyn, I need to speak with you in private. Right now.” He pleaded, hoping Clotho wouldn’t shoo him away.

Gwyn’s teal eyes were puzzled, but she nodded. “It’s alright Clotho.” The priestess merely nodded beneath her hood before turning and disappearing back into the stacks.

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief as Gwyn put down the books. She walked towards one of the offices, and he followed her in silence. The room was tense as she closed the door behind him.

She crossed her arms, which made him halt. Normally his interactions with Gwyn were pleasant, leaving his shadows singing happily afterwards. But the way she was staring at him with a hardened glare made him want to shrink back.

“Where is (Y/N)?” Gwyn said sharply.

Azriel took a deep breath, unsure of how to approach this. He didn’t know what version of that night at the Hewn City had reached the ears of the priestesses. “Gwyn–”

“Don’t bullshit me for one second, Azriel.” The redhead was unyielding, but he could see the anxiousness within her as her throat bobbed with every word. “Nesta left for Autumn with Eris, but (Y/N) never returned from the Hewn City that night. What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything–” He started, but Gwyn cut him off abruptly.

“I said don’t bullshit me, you fucking liar!” Her voice rose, long fingers clenching and trembling with anger. It was enough to make Azriel take a step back, shocked at the fire within her. “I heard you grabbed her and whisked her away that night. What the hell did you do to my friend?”

Azriel leaned against the desk, wiping his face with his hand. His heart cracked a bit, knowing that trust and companionship he had built with Gwyn while training had come crashing down. He hated himself for it, for being so blind in following orders that led him to this place. His loyalty to Rhysand came at a price, one he had always been willing to pay until now. “I’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I was following orders.”

“What is wrong with you?” Gwyn hissed, her words cutting him sharper than Rhysand’s magic had. “You took away her one chance of leaving this gods damned court peacefully. You took away her freedom out of stupid, blind loyalty.”

“How did you know what happened that night?”

She snorted. “You and your little circle like to treat us priestesses like we’re these fragile little flowers living in our own little shelter, oblivious to the outside world. But people talk, and word reaches us. We aren’t as ignorant to the court as you think we are.”

“I never said that you were.”

“You basically just did.”

Shame washed over Azriel. He knew she was right, that he was a prick in assuming the priestesses remained clueless to what was happening in the court right now. And that’s why Clotho had been hesitant to let him into the library. “I never meant for any of this to happen.” He muttered, closing his eyes.

“Well, it did. Now tell me where my friend is, and why you’re here.”

Azriel took a breath, preparing to utter the words that would make this decision the point of no return. “I need everything you have on the bond between (Y/N) and Nesta.”

A flicker of worry crossed Gwyn’s teal eyes. “I don’t know anything–”

“Yes, you do.” Azriel interrupted her calmly. “My guess is you knew about their plan as well. Otherwise you’d be a lot more freaked out by Nesta marrying Eris.”

As panic began to set into the priestess’ face, Azriel softened his voice. “It’s ok, I’m not going to tell anyone. It makes sense that any information that Nesta and (Y/N) got on the bond was through you and your work. You are not in trouble, and nobody will hear from me that you helped them. I just need every scrap of information you were able to get your hands on regarding whatever magic they used.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So you can give it to your master like a good dog playing fetch? Not gonna happen. He’ll use it to hurt both of them. I don’t care that he’s the High Lord, I won’t let him do that.”

Azriel stood up and took a step towards Gwyn. She didn’t shrink back, but rather lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Gwyn,” He began. “That’s not what this is. I’m not retrieving this information for Rhysand.”

The priestess blinked once, as if considering the gravity of his words. He wished he could spill the truth and tell Gwyn what he planned to do, but just uttering those words directly to her would put her at risk. “Then who are you retrieving it for?”

“Look, I am not trying to hide anything from you. But I told you… if you knew the truth, I would be putting you at risk for selfish reasons. And after all I have done, that is something I cannot live with. You just have to trust me when I say that it is for the right reason.”

“After hearing about how you so quickly stole (Y/N) away, I’m not sure if we have the same definition of the right reason, Azriel.” Gwyn’s voice was bitter, but there was a sadness to it that made the guilt churning inside of him threaten to spill over.

“I understand.” He said quietly. “And you have no reason to trust me right now. But please… if you’ve ever had any faith in me at all…just….just know that I’m doing this for (Y/N). And Nesta. If you believe anything I say, believe that.”

Silence overtook the room, the shadowsinger and the priestess standing mere inches from each other. After a long few minutes Gwyn muttered a ‘stay here’ before quickly fleeing the office.

She returned 15 minutes later with a few sheets of parchment paper and several books. They were placed upon the dusty table, and Gwyn took a deep breath. “This is everything I have on the subject,” She said shakily. “It’s not much, but it’s every document that could possibly give anything away about the bond between them.”

Without thinking, Azriel dropped to his knees in relief, bowing his head. “Thank you, Gwyn. Thank you.” His entire body was on the verge of shaking as the weight of what he was about to do began to truly set in. Everything he had known and defended was about to be put on the line.

“Promise me this, Azriel.” Gwyn spoke coldly. “Promise that this information gets into the right hands, not the wrong ones. You do whatever it takes to help my girls. After everything you and your family have done to them, you owe them that much. And more.”

“I swear it.” Azriel said solemnly, still looking at the ground. In a flash, he felt a cold blade pressing against his jaw, tilting his head upwards to gaze at the priestess. She looked like a goddess of justice, staring down at him with icy eyes.

“And I swear this to you,” Gwyn said coldly, a silver dagger in hand. “If you screw this up and they pay the price for it, no power in the world will stop me from hurting you. I don’t care that you trained me, or that you saved me on that day Hybern came. I will cut your throat if anything happens to Nesta or (Y/N) because of you. Understood?”

Azriel was enthralled at her strength. This was not the shy, nervous priestess that he had rescued from Hybern’s soldiers. Gwyn’s bravery had excelled since the second she stepped into the ring, and Azriel had marvelled at her progress during training, how comfortable she became with the outside world. Stupidly, he had credited that to his and Cassian’s training, thinking that it was what Gwyn, Nesta and the others had needed to heal like he and Cassian had. No, this strength had nothing to do with what he taught her. Behind her stern expression, Azriel knew that deep down this strength had come from the friendship formed with you, Nesta, and Emerie. He had been a fool to see it as anything other than that.

“I’m proud of you, Gwyn.” Azriel said softly before his brain could shut him up.

Despite the flicker of surprise across her face, she did not yield. “I do not need your validation. I need you to do the right thing and help my friends. Only after that will your statement be worth anything to me.”

Gwyn removed the blade from the spymaster’s throat and turned on her heel. Like a ghost in the wind, she was gone. Azriel’s chest was tight as he stood up, collecting the documents in his arms and praying that this possibly very stupid decision would be worth it. But after seeing the anger on Gwyn’s face, the hurt he had caused without even realising it…. Azriel knew exactly what he needed to do as he winnowed away.

*********************

The door in front of Azriel opened before he could raise a hand to knock, revealing the redhead male with a golden eye wide with surprise.

“Azriel?” Lucien said in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.” Was all he said in response before pushing his way past Lucien into the manor.

“By all means, come in.” The male muttered sarcastically. But Azriel paid it no mind as he scanned the large living room for any sign of Jurian and Vassa.

“I’m alone.” Lucien quipped, settling down on the large brown armchair by the fireplace. “Since that’s what you were trying to figure out. I’m surprised you came by before (Y/N). I thought she’d have visited already, but I guess she’s been enjoying Velaris too much to be slumming it down in the human lands. When you see her next, thank her for the scarf for me, will you?”

Azriel’s heart dropped, head whipping sharply towards Azriel. “What?” He didn’t even bother keeping the surprise out of his voice.

Lucien frowned. “The scarf she gave me for the solstice? Rhys delivered it a day or so after, said she was busy on a new mission and asked him to drop it off for her.”

“Rhys was here?” Dread pooled in Azriel’s stomach. His High Lord was ensuring your disappearance would be quiet, giving him time to create a cover story before eliminating you.

“Yes… Why do you look so concerned? What aren’t you telling me?”

Azriel put his head in his hands, cursing. “You have no idea what’s been going on, have you?”

Lucien was still as a statue as he spoke. “I haven’t heard from (Y/N) since I got to the manor. When Rhysand visited, he said she had picked out a scarf for me as a present, and that she was sorry she hadn’t visited, but that she was loving her life in Velaris. And that she was training under you to work for the Night Court as a spy.”

Any desire to be secretive flew out the window as Azriel explained everything to the Autumn male – how you were not freely living in Velaris, but locked away with Nesta in the House of Wind. Your time spent back at the Spring Court to spy on your own people. Nesta’s engagement to Eris as a cover to escape the Night Court. Lucien was usually a collected male in Azriel’s eyes, but he could see the disbelief and anger in his expression as he told him the truth. When he was done, Lucien leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, speaking in a low voice. “So you’re telling me that you locked away my best friend, and everything I’ve heard about her for these past few months has been a lie.” Lucien said. “Is that correct?”

“Yes.” Azriel said quietly. “And now I’m trying to fix it–”

“Fucking hell!” Lucien exclaimed sharply, standing up abruptly and pacing back and forth. “Your court is a fucking shitshow, you know that? How the fuck can you let this happen, Azriel? You’re so far up Rhysand’s ass you didn’t see any of this coming?”

“I understand you’re angry–”

“Oh angry doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Lucien hissed, his red hair gleaming in the light of the fire. “You played right into Rhys’ hands, and now (Y/N) is being tortured in a cell somewhere because you let it happen instead of growing a fucking spine. And that doesn’t even begin to touch on the fact that Nesta was treated so horribly by you people she was willing to marry ERIS out of all people just to get away from it.”

Azriel had no defence. Defeated, he hung his head. Lucien was right about everything, and it was made worse by the fact Rhysand lied about your status to him knowing that the Autumn male was the only one likely to try and do something to stick up for you.

“Now what I can’t figure out is why you’re telling me this.” Lucien folded his arms, glaring at the spymaster. “You’re either betraying Rhysand and trying to fix this mess, which is brave but incredibly stupid. Or you’ve come here to see if I somehow had anything to do with all this so you can hang me up in a cell next to (Y/N). Which is it, shadowsinger?”

”I need your help.” Azriel admitted, meeting his harsh gaze. “I’m trying to turn this around, but I need to track down Eris. You’re my only shot.”

Lucien let out a harsh, heartless laugh. “I figured. You need my help. If you thought I wasn’t going to be any use to you, I wonder if you’d have even come here and told me the truth. Or would you have just let me live on believing this lie until word got around about (Y/N) meeting her tragic end on some mission.”

Mentally, Azriel was exhausted. Two redheads ripping him a new one was beginning to chip away at him more than he was already crumbling at the weight of his decision. Like Gwyn, Lucien was right. While he respected the male, Azriel doubted he’d have even considered coming just to tell Lucien the truth about what happened if he didn’t think Lucien could help. And his moment of silence told Lucien all he needed to know, for he scoffed again. “Of course not,” He continued. “You people just love exploiting those of us without any other options and then throwing us away like garbage when we’re no longer of any use to you.”

“Then help me make this right.” Azriel pleaded. “Tell me how to get to Eris, discreetly.”

“Can’t you just free her yourself and take her to safety?”

“No, there are ancient wards in that prison. I can pass through quickly and easily, but not so much with another person. Rhys would find us within seconds if she left that cell, and kill us both.”

“Then how do you propose we get her out?”

Azriel frowned. “I’m sorry, we?”

Lucien rolled his eyes, taking a hearty swig from his glass of wine beside him. “I’m going to help you get her out.”

Azriel shook his head, not liking how many people were involved in this already. “I can’t let you.”

“Bullshit. You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not after everything you’ve done to create this mess. I’ll take you to Eris, and besides, I think I know something that can help us.”

*********************

The crisp scents of Autumn flooded Azriel’s senses as he paced the clearing. His mind whirled from his talk with Lucien, even more so at the male’s idea that they had discussed. Lucien had winnowed him here and told him to wait while he discreetly fetched Eris. It was a huge gamble – while you and Nesta had been willing to trust Eris, Azriel was not so keen. His dealings with the prince had always been tense at best, and vicious at worst. He knew he’d have to swallow his pride and put their history aside for this, however hard it may be.

Frankly, Azriel had no idea where in the Autumn Court he was. His shadows sensed nothing, no indication of where they were on the map. It briefly crossed his mind that Lucien could very well have led him into a trap as payback, but deep down Azriel knew Lucien wasn’t that type of male. However angry he might be at Azriel, he would prioritise getting you back. The clearing was massive, which made him feel far too exposed for his liking. There was a thicket of trees in the distance that he considered hiding in, but he owed it to Lucien to do as he was instructed and wait here.

It felt like hours before a strong gust of wind blew his tousled locks out of his forehead, and the presence of something Azriel could only describe as sheer power slammed into him like a wall. A thunderous roar sounded from the skies, unlike anything the shadowsinger had ever heard before. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him.

Three large dragons were flying ahead, circling above the clearing. Their wings were like claps of thunder, nearly sending him backwards onto the ground. Upon the back of the large black one was the unmistakable, arrogant figure of Eris Vanserra. He held onto the spikes going down the dragon’s neck as it soared above Azriel, roaring with the ferocity of an ancient battlecry. Azriel’s jaw nearly hit the ground as he spotted none other than Nesta Archeron, riding the elegant silver dragon with her hair blowing in the wind. Her eyes were a lethal glowing silver, resembling the scales of the very beast she was mounted on.

“Mother above…” Azriel whispered, flinching as he felt the ground shake beneath him. He turned around slowly, and was met with the third dragon, a riderless one with gold scales and large horns. It snaked towards him, growling fiercely. For a moment, Azriel thought the beast would open its jaws and roast him alive, but the creature paused, growling as it glanced behind the shadowsinger.

“I must say, you are the last person I expected to come here.” Came Eris’ cocky voice. Azriel turned back around, slightly nervous at the golden dragon breathing down his neck, and was faced with the other two. Ignoring Eris, his gaze landed upon Nesta.

She was perched upon the dragon like it was a horse, or even a throne, chin high like a queen from ancient times. Azriel’s breath left his body at the sight of Nesta with her hair unbound, trailing freely down her back and shining against her blood red dress. Whichever way her gaze shifted, the dragon’s did so too. It was like watching Nesta in a mirror, only her reflection was a dragon. It unnerved Azriel, and he was well aware of his vulnerability in this situation. Not only was he in enemy court, unauthorised at that matter, but three beasts he thought only existed in stories stood beside him, in the flesh.

“Lucien said you wanted to meet.” Eris said coldly. “You have ten seconds to convince us that it’s worth our time.”

“(Y/N) will die at sunrise tomorrow if we do not do something.” Azriel blurted out clumsily.

There was a moment of silence, and Eris looked towards Nesta. Her gaze was fixed on Azriel, and he squirmed underneath it. Her silver mount growled fiercely, as if it was sharing its riders' rage.

“Are we supposed to believe that you’ve suddenly had a change of heart and care about her?”

Azriel gritted his teeth. “I’ve always cared.”

Eris snorted. “No, not truly. If you had, then we wouldn’t be having this meeting. Because you’d have done something by now and grown a spine.”

“Your brother said the same thing.” The spymaster growled, already irked by having to negotiate with the Autumn prince. “I don’t need more reminding that I’ve fucked up, Eris. I just want to save her life, and I can’t do that on my own.”

“And it’s taken you this long to come to this realisation because…” Eris raised an eyebrow, amber gaze merciless. His dragon snarled, baring its teeth menacingly.

“I didn’t know Rhys would take things this far. I thought he’d want to find out everything about the bond before he made a decision on what to do with her. But he doesn’t want to wait, he wants her gone by tomorrow.”

“I assume he ordered you to do the deed?”

Azriel nodded, throat tight. “Yes. He ordered me to collect all information on the magic they used to create the bond before I…. before I kill her. Regardless of whether I came up with anything, he wants her eliminated by sunrise.”

This was probably the stupidest, craziest decision Azriel had ever made. Part of it felt wrong, betraying his found family after 500 years of peace. But when he reflected on those centuries, had he truly been happy? Had he truly felt like he was living a fulfilled life, content with what he was doing? A few weeks ago, Azriel would have been sure of his answer. Now he wasn’t, and that unsettled him.

Regardless, reached into his bag and pulled out the books Gwyn gave him. He took a breath and continued. “Which is why I brought every document the Night Court has on this magic to you. So Rhys wouldn’t get his hands on it.”

“You went to Gwyn?” Nesta burst out, rage dripping from her tongue.

“Yes.” Azriel admitted his guilt for putting Gwyn in this precarious position intensifying.

“You put her in danger by doing that!” The eldest Archeron hissed at him, her dragon responding in a similar tone. “If anything happens to her because of it, I will slaughter you, Azriel.”

He let out a dry laugh. “Gwyn said the same thing to me about you and (Y/N). I swore no matter what happened, nobody would find out I got this through her. She even put a knife to my throat.”

Eris spoke up again. “As much as I would truly love to believe you, if I recall correctly you were perfectly content sending (Y/N) to certain death weeks ago on an impossible mission under Rhysand’s orders.”

“I was trying to find a way out of it for her!” Azriel yelled, patience snapping. “A way for her to quietly flee and go build a life for herself far away from all this shit. I never told her because I didn’t want to scare her, or get her hopes up. I had the chance to explain this to her before…”

His voice trailed off, memories of seeing you strung up like an animal flashing through his mind. Azriel was no stranger to self hatred, but today it was striking him now more than ever.

Nesta’s lethal tone interrupted his thoughts. “Before what?” She demanded.

Azriel gulped, praying that the dragons wouldn’t make him their meal. “Before Rhysand interrupted and… took over.”

“Meaning?” Eris inquired, his dragon inching ever so slightly closer to the Illyrian.

“Meaning he thought I was being too soft, since I gave her water. He stopped the physical torture and spent hours trying to get inside her head until she passed out.”

“And he didn’t manage to do it?” Eris’ voice was laced with surprise, something uncharacteristic for the Autumn prince who always seemed to be two steps ahead of everyone.

“No.”

Eris and Nesta glanced at each other, unreadable expressions crossing their faces. Their dragons continued to stare down Azriel, awaiting whatever command would give them permission to incinerate him where he stood. He had a million questions for them – how the fuck did Eris have dragons? What did Beron say about all of this? Did they still plan on taking him out? But Azriel knew better than to ask them.

Nesta swung her legs to the side and crawled down the dragon’s side. To Azriel’s awe, the beast lowered its shoulder to the ground to make it easier for the female to climb off. Gracefully, Nesta’s feet met the ground and she patted the dragon’s neck. He remained frozen in his place as she stalked towards him. Like Gwyn, there was a new strength to her. This was not the half-starved Nesta who first came to the House of Wind. No, this was the female that stole from the Cauldron itself, whose name was whispered across the moors and valleys of Prythian, associated with pure death and power. Nesta’s steps were sure, silver fire expertly curling around her fingertips like Azriel’s own shadows as she stalked towards him like a lioness seizing up its prey.

“My war is not directly with you, Azriel,” Nesta said slowly. “But make no mistake. You are not innocent here. You may not have inflicted the most damage, but you willingly stood by and let your family tear me and (Y/N) down until they got pure submission. You let Cassian mock and belittle me at my lowest. You forced (Y/M) into a job she did not want to do. You let Cassian force me to train as a warrior when that’s not at all what I wanted or needed. You didn’t do a damn thing to advocate for either of us because you’re so blinded by the sheltered little tower your circle has built over the last 500 years, ignorant to the pain you inflict on anyone who’s not a part of your family. You coming here on your own volition is the only thing in my eyes that could possibly redeem you. You will help us get (Y/N) back at all costs, or you will suffer at my hand more than you have ever suffered before.”

Being threatened for the third time that day, all Azriel could do was bow his head. “I understand.” He said.

“No, I don’t think you do.” Nesta hissed. “For your sake, let’s hope your change of heart isn’t too late.”

Azriel hadn’t even noticed Eris had climbed off his dragon and was walking towards Nesta. He stood beside her, gently resting a hand on her waist. Azriel tensed, half expecting Nesta to slap him away, but she did not. To his surprise, she looked comfortable with Eris. More so than she ever had been with Cassain. When Cassian touched Nesta, there was always some sexual suggestion beneath it. But not with Eris. Eris’ touch was comfort more than ownership, something Azriel did not expect.

In his heart, he realised Cassian and Nesta were not right for each other. It made no sense for them to be mates, and whatever they had going on was purely surface level sexual tension. There was nothing deep about it, no greater understanding of each other. Nesta and Eris seemed like a much more reasonable match, mirroring each other like they did with their dragons. As much as Azriel hated the male, and knew that these thoughts would crush Cassian’s heart, it reassured him that he had made the right choice.

“So, spymaster,” Eris piped up, cocking his head. “How are we doing to do this?”

And so Azriel began explaining.

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autumnshighlady · 1 year

Text

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 10)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the Winter Solstice is finally here, and it’s now or never.

warnings: the usual IC slander, Cassian slander, Nesta calls Cassian out, Rhys is an ass, slight nsfw implications

word count: 8k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: I AM SO EXCITED FOR YOU GUYS TO READ THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!! It’s my biggest chapter yet and it’s only the start of a crazy journey. This fic is so special to me and I hope you enjoy x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9

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Weeks went by as the solstice preparations were in full swing. Nesta was constantly pulled aside for dress fittings and dancing practices, getting ready to, as Rhysand had apparently put it, seduce Eris Vanserra.

Training with Azriel was still part of your regular schedule, much to your dismay. Originally, you hadn’t minded the hours you spent with Azriel, working on everything from combat and stealth techniques to mind game exercises. But the news Eris had broken to you had ignited a feeling of dread that awoke every time you walked down the stairs to the training room.

Azriel was willing to step back and let Rhysand send you to the continent to die. It would take years for you to be even remotely ready for such a mission, and the spymaster knew it. Yet he did nothing to try and stop it as the High Lord signed your death sentence. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he wanted you dead – you illegally served as his spy in another court, a crime that could have easily resulted in an act of war. But if you died, then that problem went away for him. It was almost too perfect, you had realized. That way, he got exactly what he wanted: you out of the picture, and Nesta isolated from the influence of someone who could turn her against him.

Every day you tried to think of a way to get out of it, racking your brain for hours on all the possibilities. So far nothing had come from it aside from letting yourself go to the continent and hope that your magical bond with Nesta would extend over such a distance, enough to tell her where you were so Eris could come get you. Eventually. It wasn’t a good plan, too much could go wrong – the limits to how far apart you could be from Nesta and have the mind-speaking still work was unknown. You could be snatched up at any moment and persecuted for being fae. You could get lost, or captured by the enemy and killed. None of it boded well for you, and every night you had nightmares about the possibilities.

Eris had not been back to the Night Court either. Perhaps he had decided that Nesta was enough, and he could leave you to die in the human lands to eliminate the threat of you exposing his plans to kill his father.

You’re double crossing the Night Court for revenge, and trusting you’ll be able to get Eris Vanserra of all people to help you out? What makes you think he won’t just sell you back to them? He’s a cruel, sadistic bastard who shouldn’t be trusted. Tamlin’s words from weeks ago rang in your head. Realistically, he had a point, but part of you knew that you could trust Eris, not that you had another choice.

You missed the Spring Court, heart aching as you thought of those brief few weeks where you were blissfully able to return home. Frequently you wondered how the progress on the sanctuaries was going, if more and more citizens continued to arrive at them. You had not heard anything good or bad from the Spring Court, only Azriel’s occasional comment about Tamlin seemingly minding his own business for now.

In the days before the Solstice, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. You were in your own head constantly, unable to escape the fear of what would happen. Emerie had knocked you down three times during training way easier than she should have been able to, to the point where Gwyn had asked if you’d hit your head and needed to see a healer. Azriel had glanced at your fumbles throughout the session, but not once brought it up.

Maybe this is good, You had thought to yourself as Gwyn knocked your wooden sword out of your hands. Maybe he’ll see I’m really not ready for this mission and finally convince Rhys to send someone else.

But the spymaster gave no indication of even having had a conversation with Rhys, let alone coming to a conclusion. The uneasiness killed you, gnawing away at you from the inside in a chasm of dread and anxiety.

*********************

You leaned against the edge of the table, rifling through the pages of an old, dusty book Gwyn had handed you. The priestess had invited you and Emerie to the library, wanting to catch Nesta after her dancing lesson with Mor. Both of you had eagerly obliged, and linked arms as you strode into the library. Admittedly, you were hoping to snag a book about the Valkyries, even though Gwyn had explained them to you. Even though you were only doing this training for the sake of getting out of here, the part of you that had bonded with Nesta’s two friends wanted to be a part of the Valkyrie training – to be part of a group of females that fought together against all odds.

“What are you doing here?” Came Nesta’s voice as she came down the stairs to the level where you, Gwyn, and Emerie were.

“I wanted to see where you two work,” Emerie said, tossing the book in her hand with a thump that made the priestess grimace.

“I was showing Emerie and (Y/N) the wonders of Merrill’s office while she’s off at a meeting,” Gwyn said. “I’ve got to go work, but I thought you could bring her around while you shelve.” Gwyn threw her a wry glance. “And dance.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. A few days ago, she had told you that she might have been caught practising her waltzes in the stacks once or twice. Or ten times.

Nesta nodded to Emerie. “Come on.”

But Gwyn said, “Actually, before you two go, I wanted to give you something. Since it’s probably the last time we’ll see each other until Winter Solstice is over.”

You and Nesta and Emerie all swapped confused looks. You asked, “You got us presents?”

Gwyn only said, “I’ll meet you down at your cart.” With that, she dashed into the gloom.

The remaining three of you aimed for Level Five, where Nesta had apparently left her cart. It had been replenished with books needing to be shelved. She explained what she did, but you were only half-listening.

“What?” Nesta asked, voice laced with concern as she noticed the colour leave your cheeks.

Your brows bunched, body shivering with an eerie chill. “I ... I must not have drunk enough water during training.” Everyone had tried out two new Valkyrie techniques that Gwyn had found the night before, and both had been particularly brutal, ordering them to use shields as springboards for launching a fellow Valkyrie into the skies, and to do their abdominal curls bearing the weights of those shields.

No one had managed to cut the ribbon, though Emerie had nicked an edge two days ago.

“What’s wrong?” Nesta pressed.

You felt your eyes glaze over as the memories you tried so hard to push away were screaming in your head. “It’s ... I swear, I can hear my mother screaming down here.” Your hands trembled as she lifted one to brush a strand of hair behind an ear. “I can hear the laughs of the Hybern soldiers as her blood splattered all over them, can hear Sapphyra’s head being ripped from her shoulders…”

Nesta whipped her head to the downward slope to their right. No darkness lurked there, but they were low enough ... “This place is ancient and strange,” she said, even as she processed what you had admitted.

“Let’s go up a level, where the darkness doesn’t whisper so loudly. I’m sure Gwyn will find us easily enough.” She linked her arm with yours, pressing her body close, letting some of her warmth leak into you. Emerie linked her arm into your free one, broken wing gently grazing your back as your friends lead you away from the creeping darkness.

Gwyn did find you, the priestess panting and flushed as she handed out three rectangular parcels, each roughly the size of a large, thin book. “One for each of you.”

Nesta opened the brown paper and beheld a stack of pages filled with writing. You tore into your own as well, letting the packaging fall to the floor as you opened the pages. At the top of the first page, it merely said, Chapter Twenty-One. You read the first few lines beneath it, then nearly dropped the pages.

“This —this is about us.” Nesta said, echoing your thoughts.

Gwyn beamed. “I convinced Merrill to add us into the penultimate chapter. She even let me write it—with her own annotations, of course. But it’s about the rebirth of the Valkyries. About what we’re doing.”

You had no words. Emerie’s hands were once more shaking as she leafed through the pages. “You had this much to say about us?” Emerie said, choking on a laugh.

Gwyn rubbed her hands together. “With more to come.”

You read a line at random on the fifth page. Whether the sun beat hot on their brows or freezing rain turned their bones to ice, Nesta, (Y/N), Emerie, and Gwyneth arrived at practice each morning, ready to …

The back of your throat ached; your eyes stung. “We’re in a book.”

Gwyn’s fingers slid into yours, squeezing tight. Nesta looked up as Emerie’s hand grabbed her own, and then yours. Gwyn smiled again as Nesta clasped onto Gwyn’s free hand, her eyes bright. “Our stories are worth telling.”

“Yes,” You said quietly. “Yes they are.”

Pride filled your chest at the pages written before you – even though you had not known Gwyn and Emerie as long as Nesta, they embraced you with open arms and included you in their training, activities, everything. For the first time since Hybern, you felt surrounded by a group of people who loved you truly.

*********************

You were eating your lunch in the kitchen, picking away at the remaining scraps of chicken sandwich on your plate. Nesta had gone to another dancing lesson, and Emerie was back at her shop while Gwyn worked. So you were left alone with your thoughts in the main level of the House of Wind, trying every mind stilling technique you could think of as anxiety made your stomach churn at the idea of tonight’s ball.

Heavy footsteps sounded from the hallway from someone who knew how to be quiet.

“Azriel,” You mumbled without even turning around. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

The shadowsinger stepped into your field of view, enormous wings blocking the sunlight that came through the large windows. He had bags under his eyes, as if he had not slept in days. But it was the only tell that something was off, for he remained as stoic as ever.

“You’re invited to the Solstice ball tonight at the Hewn City.” He said, pouring coffee into the mug in his hand.

You raised your eyebrows. “I am?”

Azriel turned to face you. “Yes.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” You did, but that's besides the point. It was funny to annoy the spymaster.

As predicted, he rolled those eyes before taking a sip of the steaming hot coffee. “Well I am not going to drag you down there kicking and screaming. But it would be polite to accept the invitation, as it is from the High Lady.”

Now that was a surprise. “It was?”

“Yes. Nesta is going as well, and she figured it would be easier on Nesta if she had a friend there with her.”

You snorted. “You mean Nesta will behave better if I’m there?”

Those hazel eyes met yours, unflinching. “Yes.”

Sighing, you pushed your plate away, deciding that if you ate another bite of food you’d throw up from nervousness. “You know, if you talk about and treat Nesta like a feral animal, she’s going to bite like one.”

Azriel said nothing, huffing as he downed the rest of the caffeine. The rays of sun glowed around his tall frame, illuminating his high cheekbones. After a moment, he changed the subject. “A dress has been sent to your room for you to wear. Be ready on the balcony by 6.”

*********************

For about an hour, you had sat on your bed staring at the dress, wondering if you should do this. After a lot of back and forth, you swept some black liner across your eyes and braided half of your hair up before slipping into the dress. It was dark blue, the same colour as Azriel’s siphons, and covered in sparkles. The slightly darker skirt was loose, a V-shaped cluster of stars pulling it around your waist. Sparkles plunged down your navel, revealing at least a third of your breasts and sternum. You had uttered the words to vanish the tattoo, praying nothing weird would happen that would cause it to show up, for the plunging neckline revealed the skin where the very mark stood. Two crescent moons faced away from each other right in the centre above your sternum, brighter than the other jewels.

Silver stars and jewels continued along the off the shoulder neckline and the strap just above it that went across your collarones. Attached to where the sleeves would normally be was a long, mesh veil-like piece of stars and glitter that went along the floor and trailed behind you as you walked. While uncomfortable, you couldn’t deny it was beautiful.

You stood beside Azriel one one side of the foot of the black dias, trying not to shake as you stared at the crowd in front of you. Cassian took up the other side, a lethal glare across his features similar to Azriel’s. Morrigan was above you by the throne, representing Feyre and Rhysand until they arrived.

The entire throne room was bedecked in black candles, evergreen wreaths and garlands, and holly berries. The twin banquet tables flanking either side of the massive space overflowed with food, but it was forbidden to all until Feyre and Rhys allowed it. The towering doors to the throne room at last yawned open.

Dark power rumbled through the mountain, warning of their approach. The mountain sang with it. Everyone turned as the High Lord and High Lady appeared, crowned and garbed in black.

Rhys looked his usual self, but Feyre...

The room gasped.

As Azriel had informed you on the flight here, tonight also served another purpose: to tell the world of Feyre’s pregnancy.

She wore a dress of sparkling black panels, and it did nothing to hide her swelling belly. No, it showed off her pregnant womb, gleaming in the candlelight. Rhys’s face was a portrait of smug, male pride. You knew he’d shred anyone who so much as blinked wrong at Feyre into a million bloody ribbons. Indeed, cold violence rippled off Rhys as they walked toward the dais, Feyre’s baby-rich scent filling the air. He’d let everyone here smell it, further confirming that she was with child.

Her serene face was lovely, and her full red lips parted in a smile at Rhys as they aimed for their thrones. Keir looked torn between anger and shock; Eris’s face was carefully neutral. You hadn’t dared look at him until now.

Motion at the back of the room tugged your stare, and then—

Both Nesta and Elain wore black. Both walked behind Rhys and Feyre, a silent indicator that they were a part of the royal family. Had mighty powers of their own. They’d planned it that way apparently, wanting Eris to see for himself how valuable Nesta was.

Nesta in Night Court black threatened to bring you to your knees, and from the glance you snuck at Cassian, his expression said the same. She’d braided her hair over her head in her usual style, but atop it, a delicate tiara of glinting black stone rested, slender spikes jutting upward in a dark corona. Each spike was topped with a tiny sapphire, as if the spikes were so sharp they’d pierced the sky and drawn cobalt blood.

And the dress …

Silver thread embroidered the skintight velvet bodice, the straps so narrow they might as well have been nothing against her moon-white skin. The neckline plunged nearly to her navel, where the silver thread gathered to hold a small sapphire that matched the ones on her crown. The full skirts brushed the dark floor, rustling in the rippling silence. Nesta’s chin remained high, accentuating her long, lovely neck. Her red-painted lips cocked in a feline smirk as her kohl-lined eyes took in the room watching her every breath.

Nesta seemed to glow with the attention. Owned it. Commanded it. You could feel her presence, taste her on your tongue as she approached. It threatened to overwhelm you, but you held it together. You hadn’t seen Nesta before this, having been taken away from the House earlier by Azriel.

Feyre and Rhys took their thrones, and Nesta and Elain came to stand at the foot of the dais, between where you and Azriel were situated opposite of Cassian..

Feyre declared to the assembled crowd, “May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you.”

Keir, whom Azriel had told you about a few hours ago with a disgusted look on his face, scuttled forward, bowing low. “Allow me to extend my congratulations.” It was obvious bullshit.

Eris stalked to his side, not glancing once at you as he passed.. “And allow me to extend mine as well, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.” He flashed Feyre a pretty, cultivated smile. “He shall be thrilled by this news.”

Rhys’s mouth curled in a cruel half smile, the stars winking out in his eyes. “I’m sure he will.”

You evened your breathing, heart racing at everything being on the line. Eris knew your plan, he could easily tell Rhys at this very moment what you were up to. Rhys, who had no idea how much you truly knew, would slaughter you instantly – especially bloodily given the audience in front of him.

The High Lord said to no one in particular, “Music.”

An orchestra hidden in a screened-in mezzanine began playing.

Feyre raised her voice and said, “Go—eat.” The crowd undulated as people aimed for the tables.

Only Eris and Keir remained before them. Neither spared Mor so much as a glance, though she smirked down at them, her red dress like a flame in the gloom of the hall.

Feyre commanded the crowd, her voice like thunder at midnight, “Dance.”

People paired off and fell seamlessly into the music. Keir went with them this time.

“Before you join the merriment, Eris,” Rhys drawled, a long black box appearing in his hands, “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”

You kept your face neutral, but panicked. Was the gift Nesta? Surely not even Feyre would let him speak about her sister like that.

Rhys floated the box over to Eris on a night-kissed wind. Let enough of that wind remain, wrapping behind Eris, for you to know it blocked him from sight. From Keir’s sight, specifically.

Eris lifted his brows, flipping open the carved lid. He stiffened, voice going low. “What is this?”

“A present,” Rhys said, and you caught a glimpse of a hilt in the box.

The dagger Nesta had Made. You refrained from balking at the audacity of the High Lord and Lady to take a weapon that Nesta had Made and pass it to another as if it was theirs to give. They had taken Nesta’s apartment, her inheritance, her freedom, and now the one thing she made herself was also snatched away.

Eris sucked in a breath. Feyre said, “You can sense its power.”

“There’s flame in it,” Eris said, not touching the dagger. As if his own magic warned him. He shut the lid, face slightly pale. “Why give this to me?”

“You’re our ally,” Feyre said, a hand resting on her belly. “You face enemies that exist outside of the usual rules of magic. It seemed only fair to give you a weapon that operates outside those rules, too.”

“This is truly Made, then.”

You braced yourself for the truth, the damning, dangerous truth to be revealed about Nesta. But Rhys said, “From my personal collection. A family heirloom.”

“You possessed a Made item and kept it hidden all these years? During the war?”

“Don’t take our generosity for granted,” Feyre warned Eris quietly.

Eris stilled, but nodded. He extended the box back to Rhys. “I’ll leave it in your keeping while I dance, then.” He added with what you could have sworn was sincerity, “Thank you.”

Feyre nodded as Rhys took the box and set it beside his throne. “Use it well.” She smiled softly at Eris. “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.” You finally glanced over at Nesta, who just looked bored. Like they hadn’t just given away the dagger she’d Made.

Perhaps it was because Nesta’s eyes had drifted toward the dancing, shimmering throng. As if she couldn’t help herself when the music swelled. She seemed to be half-listening. Maybe music meant more to her than the dagger—more than magic and power.

Feyre noted the direction of Nesta’s stare. “My oldest sister shall take my place.”

Nesta barely glanced at Eris, who pulled his assessing gaze from Elain to stare at the eldest Archeron sister with a mix of wariness and intent as she began walking towards him.

Eris offered an arm, and Nesta took it, her face neutral, her chin high, each step gliding. They halted at the edge of the dance floor, pulling apart to face each other.

Others watched from the sidelines as the dance finished and the introductory strains of the next began, a harp strumming high and sweet. Eris extended a hand, a half smile on his mouth. You resisted the urge to squirm in anticipation at Eris’s upcoming proposal. The ball had only started – it would be hours before the time came to get Nesta out.

As if those harp strings wrapped around Nesta’s arm, she raised it, and placed her hand in his precisely as the last, swift pluck of the harp sounded.

Percussion and horns blasted; low stringed instruments started a rushing stroke of music. A summons to the dance in a countdown to movement. You reminded yourself to breathe as Eris slid his broad hand over Nesta’s waist, tucking her in close. She lifted her chin, looking up into his face as a deep-bellied drum thumped.

And as the violins began their sweeping song, a beckoning back-and- forth, Nesta moved as if her very breath were timed to the music. Eris went with her, and it was clear that he knew the dance’s nuances and exact notes, but Nesta …

She gathered her skirts in her other hand, and as Eris led her into the waltz’s opening movements, her body went loose and taut in so many different places you didn’t know where to look: she was bent and shaped and directed by the sound.

Even Eris’s eyes widened at it—the sheer skill and grace, each movement of her body precisely tuned to each note and flutter of music, from her fingertips to the extension of her neck as she turned, the arch of her back into a held note. You dared a glance at Feyre and Rhys and found even their normally composed faces had gone a bit slack.

The waltz progressed, and you watched with wide eyes as Nesta spun with one arm above her head twelve times as her and Eris moved across the dance floor. The Autumn prince’s eyes were blazing with feral delight, drinking in the elegance of her movements. As they continued to dance and spin you could see, you watched as Eris grew more and more enchanted by the female.

You wondered how much of it was real and how much was an act to justify the proposal he was about to bring forth. You couldn’t blame him for his enamourment, for you felt it too. Both you and Eris saw Nesta for who she truly was, not what the Inner Circle taught her to be. As the pair danced they looked like they were made for each other, unlike whatever she had with Cassian. From the gleam in Eris’s eyes you knew he saw Nesta’s potential, how she needed to be free to spread her wings, not cooped up like a soldier in a camp. It was a sentiment you shared with him, giving you comfort that even if you were never able to join them in Autumn, at least Eris would understand what Nesta needed better than the Night Court.

Eventually, you joined Azriel for a dance, and then Cassian. It was awkward, especially how Cassian took every chance to look over your shoulder in Nesta’s direction. As she spoke in low tones with Eris, Cassian’s grip on your waist tightened.

“That hurts.” You hissed at him, side hurting from the force of his large hand.

“Sorry.” Cassian murmured apologetically, but did not meet your gaze. As you danced with him, his movements got sloppy, distracted by trying to hear whatever Nesta and Eris were saying.

“Get it together,” You snapped under your breath, stepping on his toe deliberately to bring his gaze back to you. “You’re going to make a scene.”

He ignored you, letting go of you and storming over to where Eris and Nesta were dancing.

“Move.”

Cassian’s cold voice cracked through the spell of the music, halting her. He stood before them, amid the sea of people twirling around and around, and even though most wore black, his armour and blades made him seem ... different. It unnerved you.

Eris looked down his straight nose at Cassian. “I don’t take orders from brutes.”

Nesta only said coolly to Cassian, “Am I to understand that you would like to dance with me?”

“Yes.” He was facing away from you, but you didn’t have to see him to know that his eyes simmered with rage.

You clenched your fists, now awkwardly stranded on the dance floor. Cassian was being an asshole, acting like he was entitled to Nesta, like she was his possession that he didn’t like other people touching. It infuriated you – he hadn’t even stayed the night in her bed, yet he behaved as if she was his wife.

Eris bared his teeth at Cassian. “Go sit at your master’s feet, dog.”

“No one likes a selfish partner, Eris.” Nesta said quickly, not so much as looking at Cassian. “Time to share.”

Eris threw her a mocking smile. “We’ll play later, Nesta Archeron.” He ignored Cassian as he fixed his gaze on you. “You look lonely over here, my dear. May I?”

You quickly glanced over at Azriel, who nodded despite his clenched jaw. Cassian had ruffled Eris’ feathers, despite still needing his allegiance. You could see the message in Azriel’s eyes: Do it and help fix this mess.

So you nodded, extending your hand for Eris to take. Everyone was staring at you, many smirking and sneering at how quickly Cassian had left you to fend for yourself. It felt like they were wolves closing in, predatory male eyes drinking in the plunging neckline of your dress, ready to pounce.

But as soon as Eris grabbed your hand and fixed them a stare, they scurried away. You nearly sighed in relief as many of the gazes retreated in fear of the Autumn princeling.

“Thank you.” You whispered under your breath as Eris pulled you in close for the next waltz.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” He chuckled lowly, his lips inches away from your ear. “Your spymaster looks like he’s debating storming over here and gutting me. Might ruin that pretty dress of yours.”

You snorted. “It’s not my dress.”

Eris looked down at you, green eyes gleaming as the thumb on your waist caressed you ever so slightly. “Either way, you look absolutely ravishing in it.” He purred.

You shuddered at the words, unable to contain your reaction to the sound of his velvety voice. He must have felt it, because an even wider smirk played at his lips. Letting him spin you around, you let your skirts fly around your ankles before twirling back into his arms. With a confidence you didn’t know you had, you ever so slightly gripped the fabric of his shirt on his chest and pulled him closer. “It’s a lovely dress,” You murmured seductively. “But do you want to know what I’d change about it?”

“And what might that be?” His voice was positively feline.

You brought your lips up to his ear, letting them graze the shell of them as you whispered, “I wish it was red.”

Ever so faintly, you noted the slight intake of breath at your words – red had always been Eris’ favourite colour, even though it was one of the main colours of his court. He chuckled, moving the hand on the waist to the small of your back and pulling you in closer. The scent of smoke and evergreens enveloped you at being so close to one of the most dangerous males in Prythian. You couldn’t help your beating heart as you felt your years-long crush on your best friend’s brother burn like wildfire.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Eris whispered, peeking over your shoulder towards where the Inner Circle stood, watching. “Although I must say the looks on your host court’s faces are priceless right now. Especially the spying brute, dare I say he is jealous?”

You laughed, unable to help yourself. “No, definitely not. I annoy the shit out of him every day on purpose, he’s quite glad to be rid of my presence for now.”

The music changed, yet Eris did not let you go, and neither did Cassian with Nesta. You glanced over quickly to see them – Nesta was expressionless, but Cassian looked pained. She let him pull her closer, but never for long. It was killing him to see her pull away from his touch, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad.

“Good girl.” Eris’s voice snapped you back to attention with such a force you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. His words went straight to your core, and you prayed to the Mother that the various scents from the busy atmosphere were enough to hide your own. But Eris continued. “So he has not taken you to his bed then.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You managed to croak out, staring at the brooch on his tunic rather than his eyes. You knew if you looked into them again you’d melt into a puddle.

Eris cocked his head. “Oh come on, darling, indulge me. Rarely has the shadowsinger given that protective glare for anyone aside from dear Morrigan. Satisfy my curiosity.”

You coughed under your breath, trying not to seem bothered. “No. He has not. But considering he’s content with sending me to die I don’t think you have to worry about it.”

Eris’s grip on your hand tightened, and the smirk was gone from his face. He looked at you with seriousness, emerald eyes burning a hole into you. “I will not let that happen.” He promised with lethal calm.

“I hope so.”

You snuck a glance over at the Inner circle and regretted it immediately. Feyre looked confused, a tattooed hand over her belly as if protecting the child from Eris. Azriel, who had retreated to the dias, looked positively murderous. But it was Rhysand who caught your eye. He was watching you like a hawk, violet eyes simmering as you and Eris danced closer than you should have let happen. Your stomach dropped at that gaze, for you knew what kind of stare that was.

Rhysand was starting to get onto you.

And you were going to die for it.

Your heart began to race, and you felt your hands get clammy. Panic rose in your chest, tightening it like a belt.

Eris noticed and frowned at you. “What’s wrong?”

“He knows…” You gulped out, throat dry. “Rhysand… he’s watching. He’s suspicious, and I’ve seen that look before. I saw it when I insulted Feyre in front of him when we first met. He wants to kill me, Eris. He’s going to kill me.”

“Calm down, darling.” Eris said slowly, pulling you closer. “You’ve fooled him for this long, why would that change now?”

“Because he’s been watching us this whole time. I didn’t play my part, Eris. I let myself be drawn in….. he saw us dancing closer than the others and now he’s suspicious. Either way, he kills me tonight or he lets me die in the human lands. I need to get out of here.”

“Okay.” Eris stroked your lower back gently, glancing around at the crowd. “It’s okay. I will get you out of here. Pretend I just said something cruel. Then just follow my lead.”

You nodded, and Eris let go. He did not look back at you as he strode over to the main dining table and sat down, leaving you alone. You made an effort to look upset yet annoyed, scowling visible. A few moments later, you felt a hand on your arm, and looked to the side to see Nesta linking her arm through yours.

“Let’s get something to eat.” Nesta said, leading you over to the private table for the Inner Circle.

What’s going on? Her voice sounded in your head as the crowd parted for the both of you.

Rhys was watching me like a hawk. You replied, ignoring the male who openly sneered at you as you passed. I think he knows something’s going on between me and Eris. He was glaring at me with a promise, Nes. Eris told me to look disgusted and then follow his lead.

Nesta clutched your arm tighter, still holding you as you sat down. Cassian was in the chair next to Nesta, but she paid him no mind. Shit. We need to get out of here. Now. Eris better not fuck this up.

Your conversation with Nesta was broken by Azriel, who was seated across from you. His hazel eyes bore into you as he spoke, “What did Eris say?”

“Nothing pleasant.” You mumbled, filling your cup with wine and taking a large swig.

“Then why did you spend three dances with him?”

“If I’m supposed to be representing your court, would it not be rude of me to pull away from him?”

“If he made you uncomfortable it would be okay to do so.”

‘It’s fine, Azriel. I can handle it. He’s nothing but a snarky, prissy, bastard.”

Azriel’s expression was unreadable, but he did not press the issue. You did your best to dig into the food in front of you, but your churning stomach made it hard, as did the glances from the High Lord.

Luckily, dinner finished quickly, and servants came to clear the table. Eris got up from his seat a few metres away and strode over to Rhysand, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“All right,” He said, “You showed me what I can have, Rhysand. I’m intrigued enough to ask what you’d want in return.”

Nesta tensed beside you. This was the moment you had been waiting for for months.

But Rhys didn’t move from where he lounged at the head of the table. “What do you mean by that?”

Lust glazed Eris’s eyes. Covetous, calculating and lustful. “I mean that whatever you want, I’ll give it to you in exchange for Nesta. As my bride.” He jerked his chin to the box with the dagger at Rhys’s feet. “I’d rather have her than that.”

“You danced three dances with her!” Feyre squawked. Rhys’s lips seemed to be fighting a losing battle not to smile.

It wasn’t heard to tell that Cassian was pondering whether to strangle Eris’s throat or slit the skin wide open. Azriel’s syphons glowed, ready to step in.

“That’s not my decision,” Rhys said calmly to Eris. “And it seems foolish for you to offer me anything I want in exchange for her, anyway.”

His jaw tightened. “I have my reasons.”

From the shadows in his eyes, you could sense that both Cassian and Azriel knew something more lay beneath the rash offer. Something that even Az’s spies hadn’t picked up on at the Autumn Court. It wasn’t Nesta who Azriel looked to, but you.

You avoided his gaze.

Eris added, “It is a bonus, of course, that in doing so, I would be repaying Cassian for ruining my betrothal to Morrigan.”

Cassian’s hands curled into fists, but Mor’s fingers landed on his arm. You were as still as a board, not even sure if you were breathing. This was your chance, or Nesta’s at least.

Rhys said, “Anything I want, whether it be armies from the Autumn Court or your firstborn, you would grant me in exchange for Nesta Archeron as your wife?”

Cassian growled low in his throat, and Azriel visibly kicked him under the table. Nesta said nothing, despite being the potential bride in question. You both knew she was smart enough to know Eris would ask Rhys in the typical male-dominant traditions of his court.

Eris glared. “Not as far as the firstborn, but yes, Rhysand. You want armies against Briallyn and my father, you’ll have them.” His lips curved upward. “I couldn’t very well let my wife’s sister go into battle unaided, could I?”

Rhys silently laughed. His face remained stone-cold as he said, “I’ll consider it, and talk to Nesta. Keep the dagger, though. You might need it.”

It’s now or never. You said to Nesta. She squeezed your hand under the table.

“Wait a minute.” Nesta’s voice rang clear as day as she spoke up, grey eyes burning as she addressed Eris and the High Lord. “You are not my keeper, Rhysand. Nor am I an object, Eris. If you want me as your wife, you must ask me directly.”

Eris smirked. “I knew I liked you.” Before any of the shocked faces could say anything, Eris got down on one knee. The entire crowd was dead silent, eyes fixated on the scene near the dias. He bowed his head to Nesta like a knight to his king, then looked up at her with calculating eyes. “Nesta Archeron,” He continued. “I admire you greatly. You have a sharp mind and many talents. If you would do me the honour of being my bride, I vow that you will always have my protection, my heart, and the freedom to live your life how you see fit. Nesta, will you marry me?”

A pin dropping would have sounded like an earthquake in the silence of the room. Bewilderment was written across everyone’s face at the table, even Azriel’s. To them, Eris was simply making false, flowery promises. But you, and Nesta too, knew the meaning behind those words – a reminder of the actual promise he made you in the spring court. That he would help you get free.

Nesta spoke clearly after a few moments. “Yes.”

“What?” Feyre practically shrieked, standing up abruptly and then swaying slightly. “Are you insane?”

“Nesta…” Mor gasped. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying? Did you put a spell on her, you lying bastard?”

Wood splintered as Cassian’s grip on the edge of the table cracked it. He stood up, snarling and ready to lunge at Eris but Azriel was quicker. Within a heartbeat he winnowed across the table and restrained Cassian, who fought like a rabid dog.

“I cannot let you accept this offer, Nesta.” Rhysand growled viciously. Feyre had started to cry, weeping into her hands as her mate’s hand rubbed her back. You resisted the urge to snort at her level of distraught – was she really so blind as to how miserable Nesta was here?

Nesta shot him a fiery glare. “You said it was my choice, remember?” She spat. “And I am accepting Eris’ offer.”

“But why?” Rhys questioned, eyes narrowing.

Her chin was held high as she responded. “Because I do not wish to train to be a warrior. I do not want to have to ‘heal’ to fit a mould in order to be in your little circle. I will not be your caged beast, Rhysand.”

“If you think Eris can give you freedom, you are sorely mistaken.”

Silver fire rose in Nesta’s eyes. “We all know the Night Court does not suit me. If my sister wasn’t your mate, you’d have chucked me out into the streets and you know it.”

Rhys’ dark power filled the room slowly. “I will not let you hand yourself over to that monster.”

“I’d like to see you try and stop me.” Nesta’s silver fire continued to rise, matching Rhys’ magic. “It’s a little late to pretend you care, Rhysand.”

Eris finally spoke up, having risen to his feet again. “If I may,” He interjected. “You did say it was the lady’s choice, Rhysand.”

“Shut up, Eris.” The High Lord growled.

“I’ll fucking kill you, Eris!” Cassian snarled viciously. Sweat was pouring from Azriel’s brow as he continued to fight to hold his brother back.

Your blood chilled as a glint emerged in Rhysand’s violet eyes. From the smirk that formed at his lips, you knew it wasn’t good. He relaxed visibly, putting his hands in his pockets. Nesta glanced at you worriedly, sharing the same sentiment.

“After all, Nesta,” He purred, cocking his head. “Do you really want to abandon your mate?”

The world went so silent, not even a breath was taken. Even Cassian had stopped his squirming, giving Azriel a break. It felt like you were falling for hours through an endless void, feeling nothing but everything all at once.

Nesta had a mate.

Cassian was Nesta’s mate.

“What did you just say?” Nesta’s voice was quiet, faraway. Your heart was beating so fast you weren’t even sure you could hear properly. Your hands shook under the table, and tears began to prick at your eyes. The female you had grown so close to, had made a magical ancient bond with… the female you loved had a mate.

It would explain Cassian’s behaviour towards Nesta, his possessiveness – it wasn’t just because they were fucking each other, it was his instincts. You wondered if Nesta knew, but you desperately wished that she hadn’t. It seemed that way, given her reaction, but the way she always avoided the topic of Cassian made you think.

“Surely after weeks of bedding each other you would have realized?” Rhysand’s violet gaze was simmering with smugness, like he had won already. “Cassian is your mate, Nesta. That is why I cannot let you accept Eris’ offer.”

Nesta was utterly and completely still. She glanced at Cassian, looking as if she had seen a ghost. You felt sick, watching them lock eyes. Nesta was impossible to read, but Cassian’s face gave his every thought away. He loved her.

“A mating bond does not shackle her to the brute,” Eris quipped, coming to stand beside Nesta and glare at the High Lord. “They should not be forced together because of it. Technically speaking, unless a mating ceremony is performed and the bond is accepted, Nesta is free to do as she wishes.”

Mor piped up, addressing Eris. “She would never be yours, Eris. She would always belong here, with her mate.”

With her mate. You were definitely going to throw up soon from the shock of everything. The glimmer of hope you had died out, fading like the last embers of a fire.

“Stop talking about me like I am not here.” Nesta hissed at the female, dragging her gaze from Cassian. “I do not wish to be Cassian’s mate. I do not wish to reside here. I do not want to be any part of this court. I will be accepting Eris’ offer, and choosing my own path. I still have a future, but it does not involve your little circle. I don’t care about some stupid bond, I am not bound here.”

Feyre spoke up, voice shaking through her tears. “I don’t think you quite understand what a mating bond really–”

“And I don’t want to.” Nesta’s voice was cold as those silver flames rose in her eyes. “I don’t care what it means. I will be leaving.”

She turned back to Cassian, not an ounce of mercy in her eyes. “I do not want you, Cassian. If you were a good mate, you would not have let me be locked up and trained against my will so I could become a version of myself that had to be worthy of being loved by you. A good mate would not have fucked me after I was attacked by the kelpie, nor would you have laughed at me as I fell down the stairs when I was clearly suffering. Whatever we had, it is over.”

A strangled noise emerged from Cassian’s throat, and Azriel tightened his grip on the general. “Nesta, please!” Cassian begged. “Stay. We can figure this out. We don’t have to do anything about it yet, just please stay here.”

“No. I have let you all take my choices from me for too long. This one is my own.”

Mor stood up, releasing her hand from Feyre’s back and gestured to Eris, whose eyes were wide with shock. “Is he making you do this? Tell us now, Nesta, and we can help you get out of it.”

Nesta simply ignored her, turning instead to you. You felt your heart break into a million pieces as her gaze met yours. That beautiful face stared down at you, softening as she held out her hand. “Come.” She said.

What are you doing? You asked her.

Getting you out of here with me. Nesta replied as you took her hand. You stood up shakily, coming to stand next to her. Out of the corner of your eye, you snuck a glance at Eris. He was looking at you, and blinked once – which you interpreted as a confirmation to keep playing along.

“Nesta, what are you doing?” Azriel questioned, puzzled. It was the first time you saw the spymaster confused, and if the situation weren’t so dire you would have laughed.

“Taking her with me.” Nesta said simply, squeezing your hand. “(Y/N) is my friend, and I would like her to join me in Autumn.”

Rhysand took a step towards Nesta, that smugness from a few minutes ago replaced with pure violence and authority. “I can’t allow that.”

“Why not?” Eris said, grabbing Nesta’s elbow. “It would be nice for Nesta to have a friend in the court with her. My father could certainly use a new courtier. Let her come with us and we shall consider it your wedding gift.”

“No.” Rhysand growled.

The room was the definition of tension, onlookers staring at their High Lord with wide eyes. Kier was practically salivating at the scene in front of him. Nesta’s posture was composed, but you could feel her panic beside you. There was no way he was going to let both of you go, it would make him seem weak in front of the Hewn City.

Before you could say anything, you saw a movement out of the corner of your eye. Azriel was no longer holding Cassian, and had disappeared entirely. You were about to beg Nesta to tell Eris to winnow you all away right that second, but a familiar scarred hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled, yanking your grip from Nesta’s hand.

“NO!” Was all you could shriek out as Azriel’s shadows engulfed you, winnowing you away from the Court of Nightmares. You had cast one last glance at Nesta, her and Eris’ features wide with shock as the spymaster ripped you away from them and into the cold darkness.

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autumnshighlady · 1 year

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I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 13)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Rhys finally confronts the reader, and Nesta meets Beron.

warnings: Night Court slander, semi graphic torture

word count: 5.3k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: once again I apologize for the wait, this chapter is a long filler chapter but I promise things will ramp up again soon! x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 /

read on ao3

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READER POV

Rhysand’s words washed over you like a bucket of ice. Even your very heartbeat seemed to still – all sense of time had been lost to you already, but you swore the moon itself stopped its rotation in this very moment. Your mind was clear as you felt the urge to throw up, thinking back to those looks Rhys had been giving you at the ball in the Hewn City.

His words confirmed what you had feared the most: he knew.

“What…” Your voice trailed off, shaking. Even the ache in your shoulders and wrists from the strain of the shackles disappeared at the quick rise of your panic.

“Do not think these things go about in my court unnoticed.” Rhys said coldly, his eyes gleaming with arrogance at your squirming. “I knew there was something going on between you and Nesta. I’ll give you credit, (Y/N), not even Cassian or Azriel figured it out. They failed me in that sense, but it matters not. All it took was one peek inside your friend Gwyn’s head to figure everything out.”

Rage joined the panic that was churning within you. “You had NO RIGHT to look inside her head.” You spat at the High Lord, letting every ounce of hate shine through. It made you feel sick, Rhysand knowing exactly what Gwyn had gone through yet still choosing to invade her privacy. The priestess had been violated in one of the worst ways possible, and now the High Lord who had supposedly offered her protection had violated her mind.

You thought of Gwyn’s kind face, her large teal eyes that shone when she spoke about something she was passionate about. You thought about how long it must have taken for her to smile like that after Hybern, to trust people again and open herself up. If you didn’t hate Rhysand before, you definitely did now.

“It is my court, I have every right to do as I please if it concerns the safety of my court.” He said simply, brushing off your anger like a speck of lint.

You growled. “How could you do that to her? To a priestess so afraid of the world and males like you that it took her weeks just to leave that library?”

“Well, technically it’s your fault. I tried to look into your head to get answers, but could not get in no matter how hard I tried. Same with Nesta. That’s when I began to suspect something more than just friendship between the two of you, and dear Gwyneth was my last resort.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you.” You hissed, jerking your arms as much as possible. The chains clanked loudly, a harsh sound echoing throughout the eerie quiet of the cell.

“No, you will not.” Rhysand snorted. “But it seems Nesta came to Gwyn one day about an ancient spell, trying to find more information on it and how it could be used. Dear Gwyn tried so hard to help, pouring over dusty manuscripts for hours and hours but to no avail. Until one day she came across a record of an old spell between the goddess Estelle and her lover, Jayana. According to what Gwyn found, it dates back to when ancient gods ruled across the realms. Estelle was a mother goddess, a symbol of life, while Jayana was a goddess of war and death. They were opposites, yet the two fell in love. The mother and the warrior, joined as one.

“When war broke out between the gods, Estelle and Jayana were taken by the other side and thrown into the pits of Hel as prisoners. The goddesses knew they were likely to die, so Estelle created a spell that would bind her with Jayana. It would allow them to communicate, even when they were far apart. They could feel what the other felt, sense both every ounce of fear and love the other had. But then the slaughter began, and many of the gods within the prison were slain. Jayana was dragged from Estelle’s arms and beheaded in front of her lover. It is said that the rage of Estelle is what broke the realms apart. She absorbed the life forces of the slain gods, including Jayana, and burst out of Hel. Nobody knows what happened to her after, apparently. Gwyn’s information ended there I am afraid.”

The story began to sink in, leaving your head reeling. Nesta had mentioned that the spell was from an ancient goddess, but to know the full story brought you both comfort and unease. While Nesta hadn’t told you this new information and Rhys very well could have been lying, some part of you knew it was true. It lined up with everything you felt through the bond – the fear you felt when Nesta was pulled into the Bog of Oorid, the ache in your chest at being away from her… it all made sense. Jayana and Estelle, if they even existed in the way Rhysand described, felt real. As you pondered the story, something akin to a soft glow warmed your chest for a split second, as if the bond itself were confirming the story.

“Which takes us back to you and Nesta,” Rhysand cleared his throat and continued, a small stream of dark mist twirling around his fingertips. “You used the spell, that much I know. And you used it for communication, to plot against me and my court, did you not?”

You couldn’t help but laugh dryly, causing the High Lord to cock his head angrily.

“Did I say something funny?” He said sternly.

“Look at yourself…” You rasped, unable to stop chuckling at how blind, or willfully cruel, the male before you was. “How could we not? It was never plotting against you, Rhysand, it was about not wanting to live under your roof and indebted to you for eternity. You locked us up, just like Tamlin did with your mate.”

At the mention of Feyre, that dark mist erupted from Rhysand’s palm and clamped around your throat. It was ice cold, stinging your skin but not cutting off your air entirely. His eyes were nearly black with rage, knuckles clenched as he snarled. “Do NOT speak of her.”

“What’s wrong, don’t like to face the truth?” You croaked. “At least Tamlin did it because he thought he loved Feyre. You, no…. you did it out of hate. You wanted to control us, not protect us.”

“Wrong.” The High Lord hissed furiously. “Nesta had a choice, and she chose the House of Wind.”

“Her other option was death. That is no fair choice, Rhysand. She would have been slaughtered in the human lands for being fae and you know it. The only reason you even entertained the House of Wind was because your mate is her sister. Admit it, you wanted us both either dead or completely under your control.”

Rhysand did not say anything, only growled with pure, feral hatred. Despite the pressure around your neck, you lifted your chin triumphantly. Rhysand had many masks, stacked on top of one another so that his true self was hidden by layers and layers. But you had ripped those down, seeing the High Lord for who he truly was – a cruel, bitter male who made no move to deny his desire to control you and Nesta. He prided himself on advocating for Illyrian women, patted himself on the back for helping the traumatised females in the library. Yet at the end of the day, he did not care. He was just like every other cruel High Lord before him.

With one final snarl, Rhysand withdrew his dark mist that clung to your neck. You gulped in air as the pressure was released, lungs aching for breath by that point. Even still, you chuckled. You must have looked like a mad woman, laughing after the cruel male in front of you had just choked you to the point where you had begun to feel lightheaded. Rhysand turned his back to you, walking back to his original position in the corner of the cell. Despite still being chained, you had gotten under his skin.

But then he stopped, movements pausing as if an idea struck him. Slowly, he turned back around, all anger gone. Instead, it was replaced by a look that made fear coil in your gut instantly. It was a look of pure cunning, an evilness that promised nothing good for you.

“If I cannot get into your head, then I have other ways of bringing forth the symbol of that bond.” His voice was a purr, seductive like a cat luring in its prey. “Unless you want to show me.”

Despite the terror within you, you did your best to hold firm. “No.”

Rhysand chuckled darkly, taking a step towards you once again. “That’s fine. If my theory is correct, then it will appear if you are in danger, will it not? Cassain mentioned a glow coming from the bog water before Nesta emerged, but it wasn’t the mask that emitted it, was it?”

Your heart rose in your throat as you realised what was about to happen. The glint in those violet eyes confirmed it, and tears began to well in your eyes. “Nesta will know” You blurted out. “She’ll come here and kill you for it.”

“Oh I don’t think she will. This cell is so heavily warded it blocks the magic of your bond. It is why I am guessing you haven’t been able to feel her through it. She will know nothing of what I am about to do to you.”

“Please….” You hated begging, but all strength and defiance had left your body as survival instinct finally kicked in. “Don’t do this…”

Rhysand merely chuckled as tendrils of dark mist began to creep towards you. “Scream as loud as you want, (Y/N). Nobody is coming to save you down here.”

You whimpered in fear as the mist began swirling around your limbs, stinging slightly. You flinched as it crept up your half exposed back like the edge of ten blades.

“This is your last chance.” Rhys said lowly. “Show me the symbol of the bond, or I will make it appear.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to brace yourself. When you didn’t answer, it began.

Searing pain shot up your back as a dark cloud sliced against it like a sword. You gritted your teeth, determined to not scream despite the feeling of blood welling from the cut. Another tendril that had been stroking the inside of your wrist quickly shot up the inside of your arm to the nook of your elbow, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. You opened your eyes, biting your lip so hard even more of your blood spilled from your body. The High Lord was staring at you with no remorse, only coldness as his magic lashed at you like a whip.

The slices continued, and by the time they returned to your raw back, you began screaming.

ERIS POV

Eris nodded as he passed by his servants on his way to Nesta’s room, or rather his room that she had been staying in. Each servant smiled or nodded back respectfully, bringing pride to Eris’ heart. He never would have done this in the main Autumn House. No, he would have kept his chin in the air and not acknowledge the staff. His father had spies everywhere, especially amongst the servants. Eris’ autumn house was the one place where he trusted everyone within its walls.

Admittedly, he was nervous for the dinner he was presently on his way to escort Nesta to. He had done his best to prepare her, coaching her on what to say and how to respond to Beron’s prompts just as he had been taught by his mother during his childhood. She had listened attentively, soaking in every word he said. Deep down, Eris knew she would probably be fine. From what he gathered, Nesta had most likely been groomed by her mother from a young age, learning the art of appealing to the wealthy male courtiers. It was one of the few things human and fae shared, the politics of navigating snobby dinner events just like these.

But Beron was dangerous, and unpredictable. Eris did not fear that the High Lord would throw Nesta in a cell or beat her at the dinner table. No, he would do worse. He would prey on Nesta and use fear to coerce her into doing his bidding, into becoming his own personal weapon he could deploy on a whim. And then once that was done, force her to produce children bearing the Vanserra name that would hopefully carry her magic. Eris had planned a hundred different scenarios for tonight, but it was never truly enough when it came to his father.

As usual, he knocked on Nesta’s door three times, then clasped his hands behind his back as he waited for an invitation to come in. Usually Nesta’s response came within a few seconds, but he heard nothing. Eris’ brow furrowed, and he knocked once more.

“Nesta?” He called. Judging by the sound of pacing, he knew she was in there. At least she had not jumped out the window and attempted to flee.

The footsteps grew louder, and before Eris could call out again the door was pulled open to reveal a worried-looking Nesta. Stress lined her sharp features, grey eyes clouded as if her mind were elsewhere. That honey-brown hair was braided in her usual cornet, not a single strand out of place. She wore a simple red dress with long sleeves and a high neckline – Eris’ choice, a modest one that would appeal to his father but also emphasise her beauty.

Nesta looked absolutely ravishing, but Eris brushed those thoughts aside for a moment. “Nesta, what–”

Before he could finish his sentence, the female grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room, slamming the door behind him. Her hand was ice cold and clammy in a way he hadn’t felt from her before. It was not the same cold as her fire that day in the Hewn City – a powerful, dangerous cold. No, it was the icy cold of fear.

“My lady,” Eris jested, masking his own uneasiness. “If you drag me into a room like this my father will definitely be reassured that we’re trying to conceive–” “Something’s wrong.” Nesta cut him off, letting go of his hand. She continued her pacing, one hand coming to press against her chest as she steadied her breathing.

“Okay,” Eris kept his voice steady and light, despite the worry he felt. “And may I inquire as to what exactly is wrong?”

“I don’t fucking know, Eris!” Nesta practically yelled. The hand that wasn’t pressed to her chest was clenching and unclenching by her side, as if it were grasping for something. A thin layer of sweat coated her forehead, and her breathing was visibly shallow.

Eris had never particularly cared for anyone, but seeing Nesta this anxious made the fire in his bones crackle, begging to be unleashed at whatever enemy was causing this. He could practically hear the song of Nesta’s silver fire, but the Archeron appeared to be too lost in worry to hear it herself.

He resisted the urge to go to Nesta, to grab her arms and stop her pacing before it drove both of them crazy. But he did not want to corner her, make her feel obligated to accept his help in the way he wanted to give it rather than what she wanted. His every instinct protested, but he remained where he was. “Explain why you think this, then.” He said slowly. “Is it about the dinner?”

Nesta shook her head. “No. I just…. I feel so cold it almost stings. There’s this feeling in my gut telling me that something’s wrong I just…. I don’t know what. I’m worried it’s (Y/N).”

“I thought you couldn’t feel her through the bond right now.”

“I can’t, I just… goddammit Eris I don’t know how to explain it but something is happening, okay? I need to…”

Nesta turned towards the door, but Eris was quicker. He stepped aside, blocking her way. “No.” He said, guilt already gnawing at him at the look of betrayal growing in Nesta’s eyes.

“Get out of my way, Eris.” She growled, glaring up at him.

“Nesta, listen to me.” The Prince forced himself to speak calmly, choosing his words carefully. “Is this feeling you’re getting giving you any indication of where she is?”

“No, but–”

“Then there is nothing you can do. I already have spies looking for her, and if they find even a trace of a hint they will let me know. Now, unless you have some grand plan of somehow running out of the Autumn Court without my father being alerted then by all means, let me know and I’ll join you. Even then, where would you go? What would you do to find her?”

Anguish seeped into Nesta’s voice, a desperate wail creeping into her tone. “I don’t know, but I’d try something! I can’t just….” Her voice cracked and broke off, tears welling in her grey eyes. The sight chipped away at Eris’ heart, seeing such a strong female so broken down, but he quickly cupped her face in his hands.

“Do not cry, Nesta.” He said sternly. “As much as we both want to help (Y/N) right now, we cannot do that if my father smites us both into the dust for being late to dinner. He will be able to tell that you have been crying, and we cannot have that. I do not want to tell you not to weep because you are allowed to feel what you feel, but in this court, while my father reigns, we cannot let emotions cloud our judgement. Understood?”

Nesta inhaled slowly, nodding into his hands. Gods, her face was so cold.

“She refused to leave me when I was at my lowest,” Nesta’s voice was barely above a whisper, broken like shards of glass. “And she needs me now, and I’ve left her.”

Eris summoned warmth into his palms to warm her cold cheeks and add some colour to her face. “I know,” He said. “But there is nothing you can do to help her right now other than help yourself. First, we will get through this meeting with my father. One thing at a time, Lady Nesta.”

Without thinking, Eris leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Nesta’s forehead. It was like kissing an ice cube, and for a split second he feared she would rip herself from his grasp and yell at him. But even though she appeared to stiffen in surprise, Nesta did not pull away. He felt her flames sing louder, and his own calling out in response at the contact. Like calling to like, once again.

Eris looked into Nesta’s eyes. “Do not forget you are the woman who stole the power of the cauldron itself. You were brave enough to share your story at a meeting of fae High Lords you didn’t know. You were tossed into a war you had never prepared for and came out with the King of Hybern’s head. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Nesta Archeron. Do not let the shadow of the Night Court take that from you.”

*********************

With his arm linked through hers, Eris led Nesta through the entrance into the dining hall. As they walked through the doors, the remaining traces of Nesta’s stress melted off her like snow from the branches. She did not hold her chin high with her usual confidence, but kept her head level so as not to appear too submissive, but also not too challenging. Beron was a master at playing people, and Eris only hoped that he and Nesta could keep a step ahead of him.

Beron was already seated at the head of the table, a scowl written across his aged face. In the first chair next to him down the long side of the table sat Eris’ mother, her lifeless auburn locks covering her face like a curtain. It prickled Eris’ heart how she did not turn to look at him upon his arrival. There had been a time where her eyes glowed with pride upon seeing Eris, but now those were few and far between. She still visited him, still loved him, but deep down he knew she secretly feared he was too much like Beron.

“You’re late.” Beron’s voice was cold, his eyes devoid of any positive emotions as he glared at his eldest son.

“Apologies, father.” Eris quipped, pulling Nesta’s chair out for her. “I was showing my fiancé the paintings you commissioned in the gallery.”

Beron fixed Eris a stern glare, one that warned him not to make any snide comments. Eris shrugged, taking his seat between his father and Nesta. The role he played with his father was a fine line – on one hand, he dared not challenge the High Lord lest he receive a beating. But on the other hand, he could not appear weak. Beron would expect the occasional snide remark and disrespect, like it was part of a routine. One that kept him above his brothers, for he was the only one who could remotely get away with it. His brothers, on the other hand, would be far worse off than him.

His father’s gaze switched from him to Nesta, watching the female like a hawk as she curtsied before settling into her chair. His gaze was hungry, like a predator sizing up a lump of prey for its next meal. Eris sat next to her, nerves churning. As good as Eris had gotten at predicting his father’s moves and words, this was a new situation to him. Never before had he encountered someone who his father had so desperately desired to have in his court, to control. Nesta Archeron was a new entity, even for Beron. Eris was not stupid – every fae in Prythian who had heard of Nesta wanted to know more about her, how they were fascinated by the tales of the role she played in the war. But Beron would want more, to be able to sink his claws deep into Nesta and break her into pieces and put her back together over and over again until she moulded the image he wanted.

Perhaps Beron and Rhysand aren’t too different after all. Eris sarcastically chuckled to himself mentally as he poured himself a glass of wine.

“High Lord,” Nesta faced Beron and met his gaze, then dipped her head respectfully. “Thank you for graciously having me at your table tonight.”

Eris resisted the urge to smirk at Beron’s surprised blink, apparently caught off guard given that the rumours around Nesta had claimed that she was a witch, snarky and easy to anger. But Eris knew Nesta was smart, and likely needed little instruction on how to handle Beron. She was respectful and used flattery to appeal to his ego, but held herself high enough that she would not be walked over. Her presence was strong compared to the Lady of Autumn’s – it was like she was a ghost in her own home, and despite seeing it every day, it broke Eris’ heart to see her like this.

Beron then turned to Eris, electing to ignore Nesta for now and brush her off. “So, boy,” He said gruffly. “This is the female you are to marry provided she earns my blessing?”

“Correct,” Eris said casually as a timid servant loaded up his plate with food. “I figured it was time for me to settle down after my betrothal to the Morrigan all those centuries ago was ruined.”

“That was not your decision to make, Eris.” His father growled, eyes blazing. Even though Eris had already been punished for proposing to Nesta without his father’s permission, he knew that Beron would never forget it.

But Eris only shrugged, letting his father’s anger wash over him like waves. “But it was a good decision, was it not?” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Call it an eye for an eye. The brutes ruined my first marriage arrangement, so I took one of theirs in return. They owed me a debt, so I finally got my Night Court bride after all.”

Beside him, Nesta said nothing. She politely ate the food in front of her, as if she weren’t the object of conversation. Her sharp cheekbones gleamed in the light of the candles around them, casting a fiery glow across her face. To avoid staring, Eris turned his gaze back to his father.

“And yet neither Rhysand was consulted on the matter either, it seems.” Beron pointed out, eyes still fuming. “You made this decision on a whim. Now I need to see if it’s worth it. I have no intention of going to war with the Night Court over a female you thought was pretty enough to be your bride.”

Before Eris could speak, his father turned to Nesta and continued. “So, girl,” He growled. “Why should I let you remain in my house for even one moment longer? I should just send you back to your High Lord in a box and be done with this mess. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

Nesta set her utensils down on her plate, lifting her chin and turning her head towards Beron. Eris grew nervous at how firm her gaze was, unsure of how his father would react. She straightened her spine, voice steady as she spoke.

“My lord,” Nesta said. “I apologise for my presence in your Court causing tension. Neither of us wants war, I promise. But I have essentially been a prisoner within the Night Court, confined to one of Rhysand’s houses and being forced to train as a warrior. I have no desire to fight, but I was not allowed to use my magic. I was wasting away, and Eris saw that. He said I have more potential, and I do. My mother raised me to be a courtier, and to find a good marriage and provide my husband with children. It is still my every intention to do that, and I will do whatever you ask of me if it means I have your permission to stay in Autumn. But please, High Lord, do not send me back. I have a powerful gift from the Cauldron, and Rhysand would rather see me six feet underground than allow me to use it.”

Eris wasn’t sure he was breathing as Beron sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, staring at Nesta. On the one hand, Nesta had admitted a desire to use her magic and become stronger – something that Beron would loathe seeing any female do. But Eris could practically see the wheels turning in his father’s mind as he debated what Nesta could offer him, how he could maybe allow an exception to his misogynistic rules just this once to see what he could get out of it. His interest in the Archeron’s Cauldron-stolen powers was palpable, so Eris spoke up before Beron could think too hard and let his prejudices cloud his judgement.

“The ball at the Hewn City appears to be the first time Nesta’s magic has been used since the war,” He interjected, addressing his father. “It’s why she was out cold for so many days afterwards. I believe it would be in our best interest to let her learn how to use it and–”

“Quiet!” Beron snapped, shooting Eris a glare that would have sent most people scurrying away. “I’ve heard enough from you.”

The room was quiet for another few minutes. Nobody even dared eat, not while Beron clasped his hands together and propped his elbows on the table, staring down Nesta Archeron. To her credit, she did not flinch from his gaze. She met it evenly, a blank expression on her face that the High Lord was so clearly attempting to decipher to exploit a weakness. But Nesta was a statue, cold and frozen, mirroring Beron’s emotionless expression from earlier.

Beron finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. “Show me.”

Nesta blinked once. “I beg your pardon, my lord?”

“Show me your powers, and I’ll decide if you’re even worth entertaining this marriage.” Beron’s tone left no room for question, as he sat back in his chair expectantly.

Nesta looked at Eris, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. He nodded, giving her the go-ahead for what they discussed earlier. Eris knew his father would want a demonstration, and they had spent over two hours preparing for what she would do when he asked for one.

Pushing her chair out from behind her, Nesta stood up. She smoothed her skirts, stepping a few feet back. Even the Lady of Autumn lifted her head to watch, concern written across her pale face. She glanced at Eris one last time, and took a deep breath while closing her eyes.

“Now.” Beron growled impatiently. “Before I decide you’re definitely not worth it and send you back to Rhysand as a pile of ash.”

A few seconds later, Nesta’s eyes opened. A silver fire glowed within them, illuminating her face. Eris tore his eyes away from her to glance at his father. Beron was leaning forward, watching Nesta like a hawk.

Nesta spread her arms slightly, palms opening to reveal a bright silver flame in each hand. It spread out, streams of it curling up her arms and weaving around her body while others pooled at her skirts.

“Mother above.” Eris’ mother whispered softly.

“Quiet.” Beron snapped at her, and she flinched.

Nesta stood there, glowing as if the moon itself had liquified and turned into flame that now danced around her body. The flames licked the air playfully, as if delighted to be let out. She remained utterly still as the silver fire quickly spread, climbing up the walls around them and engulfing the room. The guards began yelling, but a firm shout from their High Lord to not do anything made them freeze.

Like tidal waves, Nesta’s fire came gushing from her body and flooded the room. Seconds before it hit the table, Beron stood up quickly and summoned a wall of orange flame around the table, shielding himself and his family from the flames.

“Are you seriously telling me to light your dining room on fire?” Nesta had snapped earlier, shocked.

“That is exactly what I am telling you,” Eris had replied. “Very good listening skills.”

“Why the fuck do I have to do that?”

“Because if you appear to control your magic too much, Beron will see it as a threat. He is paranoid, and will immediately think you will use it against him. He has to see it in all its glory, and be threatened by it. Let your magic out however it wants, Nesta. You forget Beron is an extremely powerful male, he will be able to repel your flames for a time. But I want you to push back a bit. Not too much, just enough to let him feel the strength of your power. And then when he begins pushing really hard, let him beat you. He will not want you to stay in his court if he thinks your magic could overpower his own.”

Nesta had rolled her eyes. “So be strong, but not too strong?”

“Precisely,” Eris had smirked at her. “Dealing with my father always involves balancing on a fine line. Now let’s practice.”

As predicted, Nesta’s flames pushed against Beron’s, beginning to engulf them before he pushed back. Her flames grew higher, and Beron’s own matched hers. It was a dance of orange and silver, each one fighting to overpower the other. Eris watched in awe as his father battled Nesta’s, the High Lord’s jaw beginning to clench with effort.

But then Nesta’s flames shallowed, Beron’s immediately smothering them. The tension in his face was replaced by smugness as Nesta’s flames retreated, chased by his own. Black ash marked the floors and walls where Nesta’s fire had utterly scorched it, more and more being revealed as Nesta’s flames vanished. The second they did, Nesta staggered, panting.

Eris rushed out of his chair and wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her steady. The female was trembling slightly, her skin ice cold as Eris led her back to her chair. Beron had sat back down, already having ordered the servants to begin sweeping up the ash.

“Spectacular.” Beron murmured, his eyes ripe with hunger. His gaze did not move from Nesta, sizing her up like a piece of meat. The ambition on his face was undeniable.

“Wonderful, isn’t she?” Eris quipped, passing Nesta a glass of wine. “She gave Rhysand quite a scare with it. It was a truly wonderful scene, father. Pity you weren’t there.”

“Indeed.” Beron’s voice was far away, as if he were already lost in his own scheming thoughts. It made Eris unsettled, how quickly his father was already plotting.

The High Lord took a long sip of wine before speaking again. “You may stay in my court, Nesta Archeron, for the time being. You may train your magic with Eris, and I will reassess your abilities in a month. If you fail to impress me, I will throw you out of my court to the wolves. But if you prove useful, then I shall grant you my eldest son’s hand in marriage. Am I clear?”

Nesta nodded, but stayed silent. She still shook slightly, eyes fluttering at the exhaustion of using so much power. Beron didn’t give her a second glance as he turned to Eris.

“Do not think this is a reward for your brash actions, boy.” He hissed at his son. “If she was anyone else I’d have flayed her alive and hung her on your wall for your stupidity. But she may not be useless after all, and I want her on my side. If she complies, I will see this marriage through and you must breed her within three months of the wedding. Understood?”

Eris swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes, father.”

Beron stood up. “Good. We are done here. Get out.”

His wife quickly stood up and followed Beron out of the room, head bowed as her dress trailed in the ash. Once they were gone, Eris gently took Nesta’s arm. “Good job,” He murmured, helping her up. “I’m proud of you. Now let’s get you out of here.”

Nesta nodded, as if her ability to speak was trampled by her exhaustion. Noting how limply she hung in his arms, Eris flung her arm around his shoulder and reached down behind her knees. He scooped her up easily, noting how worryingly light she still was. You had mentioned that Nesta had been training, and if this was her having gained muscle and meat on her bones then it sickened him to think of the state of her body before.

He wasn’t lying when he said Nesta had been wasted in the Night Court. It angered him how arrogant Rhysand was to act like he was doing her a favour by forcing her to train. There were many paths in the immortal like that did not require a sword, something Nesta clearly did not want. To force her to do so was cruel, and proved to Eris even further that Rhysand was a complete and utter asshole to the core.

Before they reached the gates leading away from the main castle, Nesta had already fallen asleep in Eris’ arms. Her breath was steady, her soft exhales calming Eris’ racing heart. The dinner had made him more nervous than he’d have cared to admit, but he could not let Nesta see that. She looked so peaceful, her thin body curled into his as she snored quietly. It was a long trek to his grounds from the castle, but he did not mind. Selfishly, he liked having Nesta in his arms. But he felt a twinge of guilt as he recalled how fondly Nesta spoke of you. He was not a blind male, he knew you loved Nesta, and Nesta loved you. There was a part of him that was jealous, for her had grown a soft spot for both you and the eldest Archeron sister.

Eris pondered how he let his life get to this point as he walked through the forest. Marrying Nesta would not be a hardship. She was beautiful, intelligent and strong, which Eris admired very much. But trying her to him would be taking her away from you. He did not know whether you were even alive, but he hoped you were, even though you would likely unintentionally cause complications down the road. Eris could get away with sneaking one female into Autumn, but two? He did not think he would get lucky twice.

But part of him felt the same urges as Nesta, to abandon everything and search for you. Not only because Nesta cared for you, but for some reason he did not want you to be alone out there, wherever you were.

The stars shone overhead as Eris was lost in his thoughts. The details of how you would fit into his arrangement with his father would have to be set aside until he knew for certain where you were. He debated telling Nesta about his research on the bond between you and her, but decided against it. He knew it would be breaking his promise, not telling her immediately what he may have discovered, but he wanted to be certain first. Nesta would punish him for it, but it was a risk worth taking.

Eventually, Eris reached the doors to his house. Nesta remained asleep as he set her down in his bed, pulling the covers over her shivering frame. The room had been heated without fire, making it nice and warm for Nesta’s shivering body. He only hoped that dress was comfortable enough to sleep in.

As Nesta nestled her head into the soft pillow, Eris gently pushed a lock of hair out of her face.

“Sleep tight, Nesta Archeron.” He murmured before leaving the room, letting her sleep in peace.

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autumnshighlady · 1 year

Text

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 12)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the reader’s location is revealed, and Nesta settles into autumn

warnings: the usual IC slander, Rhys slander, mentions of abuse/beating, misogyny

word count: 5.3k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: sorry for the long wait! i made this chapter shorter than originally intended because it would have been way too long haha

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 /

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READER POV

Cold, thick, darkness. It was all you had felt for the past few hours, the chill seeping into your bones unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Your mind was hazy, unable to form a coherent thought. Every limb felt stiff and cold, unable to move more than a few centimetres – not that you could focus long enough to try.

Your eyes cracked open a sliver, just long enough to see a pair of boots walking towards you. You felt your body being hauled up, arms brought above your head before your vision faded to black.

*********************

Every muscle ached with stiffness, the air somehow colder than before. The motion of opening your eyes felt like prying two stuck pieces of parchment apart. Your mouth was as dry as a desert, and you had no idea how long it had been since your last sip of water. You expected to cringe at the light of whatever room you were in, but you didn’t. A few torches were lit, casting a dim, eerie, yellow glow in the otherwise dark room.

From what you could see through your blurry vision, walls of stone surrounded you. They were jagged, marked with scrapes as if giant claws had torn at them for a thousand years. The torches added no warmth to the freezing room, and you realised you still wore the dress from the Hewn City. The star-veiled train had been removed, leaving your upper arms bare without its soft covering. The dress felt ten times heavier on your aching body.

You went to move your shoulder, only to be met with the clank of metal. Alertness rising quickly, you tried to move your arm but realised it was locked in place by a chain secured around your wrist. The chain was tight, making your fingers numb. An identical chain was locked around your other wrist, spreading your arms out to each side. They were bolted into the wall, secure enough to prevent almost any movement.

Panic rose in you as you tugged rapidly, breath heaving at the realisation of your surroundings. You were in a prison cell, chained up with no visible door in sight. The more your vision cleared up, the more your memories came flooding back. The last thing you remembered was feeling Azriel’s scarred hand ripping your own from Nesta, his shadows engulfing you right as your vision went black.

“It’s no use.” A familiar, deep voice sounded from the corner of the room as you pulled on the chains again.

You inhaled sharply, the shadows parting to reveal the Spymaster of the Night Court emerging from the darkness. His hazel eyes almost glowed in the dimness of the room, and he twirled Truth-teller in his right hand. His stare was cold and merciless, making even your blood still. This was not the grouchy Illyrian who trained you and rolled his eyes whenever you said something stupid. No, this was the shadowsinger in his purest, deadliest form.

“Those chains are meant to hold beings much more powerful than you,” Azriel’s voice was somehow colder than the air in the room. “You aren’t getting out. Don’t mind the drowsiness, I gave you a sedative a few hours ago. It will wear off eventually.”

It was an effort to keep your breath from rising rapidly. You shifted your weight, feeling another set of cold chains around your ankles as well.

“Az, what are you doing?” Your voice rasped, throat aching from the dryness. You thought he would offer you water, but he did nothing. He only stared at you with that cold gaze.

You swallowed, looking up at him through your half closed eyes, dropping from exhaustion. “Why am I here?”

“Because I told him to bring you here.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of the High Lord’s voice. Rhysand appeared from a cloud of dark mist, hands casually in his pockets. He was still dressed in his attire from dinner, minus the jacket. It must have only been a few hours since the ball at most, you figured. Yet it had felt like days since Azriel had snatched you away.

“Why?” You whispered, arms already aching from the strain of the chains. Rhysand did not hide the rage from his violet eyes this time. No, he had no audience of citizens that forced him to keep his composure. Deep down, you knew any laws of what he could and could not do to you were void.

Rhys stared you down, smirking at the way your body shook under his gaze. Any strength you had was gone, your body finally giving out. You couldn’t even feel Nesta through the bond. A hole could have been in your sternum for all you knew, given how much it ached not to sense her presence. Your mind flashed back to that look the High Lord gave you as you danced with Eris, a look of knowing and hatred spilling across his features akin to the look on his face now.

The High Lord did not move as he spoke at Azriel, who had not moved from the corner of the room. “Leave us.”

Azriel’s brows furrowed, and he took a step forward. “Rhys–”

“You are clearly too close to the situation, seeing as you failed to see what was going on.” Rhys growled, not looking at his spymaster. “Leave. Go back to your duties.”

No… You begged. As much as Azriel was looking at you with coldness, you had spent more time with the spymaster than you had with the High Lord. You knew what he would do, what he was capable of. With Rhys, there was no telling how far he would go, or how he’d use his powers against you. Azriel was the better option for you, and Rhys knew it. Please, please refuse. Stay.

Your silent pleas were in vain. Without even looking at you, Azriel nodded at Rhys before melting back into the shadows. Your heart sank, and you cursed yourself for even having hope that he’d stay. Azriel was content to let Rhys send you to certain death on a mission you were not equipped for, this time would be no different.

For the next minute, neither you nor Rhys said a word. He only stared at you, as if waiting for you to break and plead to get out. Despite your lack of strength, you refused to give in. Intimidation attempts by males was something you were used to, High Lords or not. But you also didn’t have it in you to make any kind of snappy remark. It felt as if all the life had been drained from your body by some invisible force. It had sucked it out of you, leaving you hollow.

“You know why you’re here.” Rhysand spoke calmly, leaning his shoulder against the stone wall a few feet away from you. He cocked his head, waiting for you to respond.

But you didn’t give in, only closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. There was no point in playing dumb, not in your current position. It was just you and the High Lord alone in this dark prison, not bound by any rules or laws. You only prayed you could last long enough to give him a hard time.

He sighed, clucking his tongue. “Well,” He said. “ If you’re not going to admit it, then why don’t I walk you through it, shall we?”

You only sighed, wishing for nothing but a sip of water. Your wrists were already beginning to rub raw from the metal, joints straining at the strain. You let your head drop, neck aching with just the weight of holding your head up for those few minutes.

“Your sudden change of heart was interesting,” Rhys began. “Since you hated us so much. I had hoped you began working for us because you saw the sense in it, but now I think it had to do with something else. A certain female Archeron perhaps?”

All the training Azriel had given you about being questioned went out the window at the mention of Nesta’s name. You flinched, and the High Lord chuckled darkly.

“That’s what I thought.” He continued. “Anywho, I sent spies back into the Spring Court after you left so abruptly, just to check that your reports were true. It seems you failed to mention that not only was Tamlin actively rebuilding his court, but that you were the one behind it. Please, tell me if I’m wrong.”

Again, you said nothing. You wished that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. This was not how things were supposed to go. You could only hope that Eris had gotten Nesta out successfully. He most likely had, given Rhys likely didn’t have the balls to try and stop Nesta after her display of power. You only prayed that Eris would uphold his end of the deal and keep her safe.

Somehow, you knew he would.

The High Lord continued his monologue, every word making the pit of fear in your stomach grow. “So you’ve been lying to us about the Spring Court, I wondered what else you had been hiding. I fully intend on finding out what that is.”

You took a minute to calm your breathing before raising your head and meeting Rhys’ violet gaze. “So what?” You rasped.

He raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“So what if I helped rebuild the Spring Court?” Your challenge was weak given your exhaustion from whatever Azriel had put in you, but you put every ounce of bite into it you could muster. “It was my home, Rhysand. I want to see it get better, and Tamlin giving his people food and shelter does not affect you in any way.”

Rhys hummed, flicking a finger to the side. The chains around your wrists jolted, pulling your arms even farther apart. Searing pain shot through your shoulder, and you couldn’t stop the cry of pain that left your mouth. It felt like your very bones were being stretched to the maximum, and you gritted your teeth.

“Perhaps,” He said. “But nonetheless, you disobeyed my orders. Your job was to report Tamlin’s every movement in the Spring Court, and you lied.”

“Get over it.” You grumbled.

“You’re going to tell me what else you’ve been hiding , (Y/N). And don’t think about asking Nesta for help through your bond. She can’t reach you here.”

NESTA’S POV

Nesta had just finished pulling on her warm leather gloves when a knock sounded at the door. After another hearty breakfast that she practically devoured, a servant had laid out a forest green dress, along with a pair of thick brown tights, accompanied by a coat and gloves of the same shade. After the unsettling revealing attire of the Night Court, Nesta was thrilled to finally be offered something more modest like she was used to. The dress fit suspiciously well, and was warm enough to fend off the chill that came through the window.

After smoothing her skirts and standing up, Nesta walked over and opened the door. As predicted, Eris was on the other side, looking charming as ever. His red locks were tied back, save for the few thin strands that framed her sharp face. He was dressed in a green tunic the exact same shade as Nesta’s dress, a brown belt slung across his waist.

Nesta scoffed as she took in the prince’s attire. “Must you always dress us in matching outfits? It’s weird.”

Eris’ green eyes sparkled, as if he were delighted she insulted him. “On the contrary, my dear,” He said in mock hurt, leaning against the doorframe. “It is but a symbol of the love we have for each other, no?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re obnoxious.”

“And you get to enjoy it for the rest of your immortal life.” He winked, pushing off the doorframe and extending his arm. “Now come, we have much to get done before dinner.”

Nesta sighed, wrapping her arm through Eris’ and begrudgingly allowing him to lead her out of her room. The hallway was wide, dark wooden arches overhead with torches along the sides. This was the first time she had left her room since coming to Autumn, she realised, slowing her footsteps.

Despite his long strides, Eris seemed to notice Nesta’s hesitation, and slowed his steps to meet her own. It was a simple gesture, but one that she appreciated. For months, she had been the one forced to exert herself, mentally and physically, to catch up to everyone else. To be the one who had to adjust, and simply get over it, rather than get a bit of basic understanding from those around her. But not now, not with you or Eris. You had always made Nesta feel like she had a chance to catch her breath, to stop trying to mould herself into someone else’s expectations.

She felt similar while with Eris. He did not push her, or give her the illusion of a choice to get what he wanted. Thus far, he had spoken plainly with her, not skirting around the truth but also respecting her space. He was a complex male, and Nesta wasn’t stupid enough to think she knew him at all. But in the time she had been under his care, she felt safe. Not caged like a feral beast waiting to be unleashed.

And so Nesta let him lead her down the hallway, approaching the open living space. It had a massive fireplace, several lavish couches surrounding it. A medium sized table stretched in front of one of the massive windows, a bowl of fruit adorning the red cloth. She noticed the large bookshelf tucked away in the corner, two armchairs on either side of it.

“You are safe here, within these grounds.” Eris assured her calmly, noticing the tenseness in Nesta’s arm. “Like I said, my father cannot get in, and those within these walls work solely for me. I will show you around the house and prepare you as best I can for tonight, if that is okay with you.”

Nesta nodded, her gaze trailing to the clearing across the water that she had gazed at through her window. The white and bay horses were still there, laying down in the soft grass with their legs folded under them. The leaves rustled with a gentle breeze, sunlight peeking through the clouds and casting golden beams across the clearing.

Eris stopped walking, noting Nesta’s lack of attention. “Nesta?”

“Can we…” Her voice trailed off, but Eris did not rush her to speak. He waited patiently while she took a breath. “Can we go out there?”

“Of course. But do you not want a tour of the house first so you know where to find everything?”

She shook her head, trying to find the words to make Eris understand. “Later, yes. For now I just… I’ve had enough of being stuffed inside a house. I want to go outside.”

Eris did not scoff at her, or argue that she was never locked up, like some from the Night Court would have. He simply nodded, steering her towards the large wooden doors instead of the next corridor. With every step towards them, Nesta felt her heart quicken at the anticipation of stepping outside for the first time in days.

When they got to the door, Eris turned his head towards Nesta. “Go ahead.” He said softly.

Hesitantly, she reached forward, as if her body couldn’t believe Eris was letting her do this. Part of her knew it was pathetic, to be so overjoyed over such a simple thing. But she tried to let herself indulge in it, this one simple joy of being allowed to let herself out.

Taking a deep breath, Nesta pushed the door open. The wooden doors swung seamlessly and revealed a cobblestone path into the clearing. The fresh air flooded Nesta’s lungs, the crisp air so different from the stuffiness of the room. A small garden was set up beside the pathway, a few vegetables sprouting from the earth. She took a step down the walkway, the small heels of her boots softly clicking on the stone.

“It’s beautiful, is it not?” Eris said quietly, his arm squeezing Nesta’s slightly.

She nodded, still in awe of the scenery before her. The crystal blue water rippled slightly in the breeze, a few red leaves floating atop its surface like decorations. The horses in the distance continued to lay down, their eyes half closed.

“I’ve never seen horses do that.” Nesta said in awe. She was no stranger to horses, but they had always been in stalls or paddocks in her village. And certainly never laying down.

Eris followed her gaze. “They feel safe enough here to lay down. Horses are flight animals, and will only lay down when they are certain there is no threat.”

“Are they yours?”

“Yes. I do not keep them in a stable like most other horses. They prefer to be here, out in the open. And so I let them roam free. The white mare is Calypso, and the brown one is Diadoro. Calypso is the one I usually ride. There is a third one, a large chestnut mare named Ginger, but I have not seen her in a few days.”

“Where is the third one?” Nesta asked, and he shrugged.

“Probably off in the woods somewhere. I’ll start to worry at the end of the week if I don’t see her.”

Before Nesta could respond, Eris gently led her further down the path. They stepped onto the grassy clearing, following it around the edge of the water towards the horses. She tensed up, not wanting to startle the animals that could kill her with one swift kick.

“What’s the matter, afraid of horses?” Eris teased, scoffing gently.

“No.” Nesta huffed, glaring at him. “Just not… used to them.”

“Did you never ride one growing up?”

“No. My mother taught me that it was not ladylike.”

Eris snorted, rolling his eyes at her comment. “A pathetic excuse. I can teach you, if you’d like?”

She laughed, not truly meaning it. “Out of the kindness of your heart?”

The second the words left Nesta’s mouth, she felt regret pool in her stomach. Eris’ jaw tensed, furthering her regret. While she did not fully trust him still, Eris had done nothing wrong to her. In fact, he was risking his neck helping her. He took a beating from his father for bringing her to the Autumn Court, and did his best to put off meeting Beron until Nesta felt ready. He did not make her feel like a burden, or a broken puzzle that he had to put back together. And she would pick him over Rhysand any day.

But Eris said nothing, merely continued on and let go of her arm. Nesta came to a standstill as Eris strode over to the white mare, Calypso, who opened her eyes at his approach.

“Hello beautiful…” Eris’ voice was soft and gentle in a way that Nesta hadn’t heard before. His formality was gone, and he cooed gently praises to the creature.

Calypso nickered softly, touching Eris’ extended hand with her nose. He stroked her face, then turned around and sat down in the grass. To Nesta’s shock, he leaned backwards and rested his back on Calypso’s large shoulders. The horse didn’t flinch as he did so, merely closed her eyes and lowered her nose to the grass to resume her nap.

Eris smirked, noting Nesta’s shocked stare. “They trust me. Which makes you the odd one out here.”

She was about to snap back, but a low whinny from behind her made her turn around instead. Diadoro, the brown horse, had raised his head and was looking directly at her.

The Prince laughed. “Somebody wants your attention but is too lazy to get up and come say hi.”

“Will it bite me?” Nesta was still unsure of being so close to such a large creature.

“Oh definitely. He’ll consume your entire arm and digest it in his fat belly, actually. Then he’ll grind your bones in his teeth for fun.”

“You are vile.” Nesta hissed at him, grossed out.

His eyebrows flicked up once. “I know.”

Ignoring the redhead male, Nesta turned back to Diadoro. His brown eyes were soft, gazing right at her as if he could see right into her rotten soul. She swallowed, trying to push down every horrid thing she hated about herself so he couldn’t see it in that freaky way that only animals could. So many people had looked at Nesta in so many different ways – hate, disgust, judgement, pity. But never this soft curiosity, with the exception of you. You, Eris, and Diadoro apparently were the only ones whose eyes didn’t curdle with judgement upon seeing her.

Diadoro nickered, as if sensing her thoughts were about to spiral into guilt and worry for you. He blinked, the white star on his forehead gleaming in the sunlight. His black mane was blowing in the gentle breeze, and he extended his head forward towards Nesta. Hesitantly, she took off her glove, tucking it under her other arm as she reached forward.

Her fingers brushed Diadoro’s nose, his gentle breath warming her hand. His nose was softer than the finest silk, and Nesta began to relax as she stroked it. Diadoro blinked slowly, nuzzling into her touch.

“He’s a sweet creature,” She heard Eris say from behind her. “He’s got some spice to him, but only when he’s protective. He’s a gentle giant, with a loyal heart.”

Nesta crouched down beside the horse, running her hand down his thick neck. She expected him to pin his ears or quickly stand up, running away from her like the monster she was. But Diadoro simply relaxed into her touch, showing no signs of getting up.

“Diadoro is probably the only pure soul in this court. Which we should take the time to get you educated on before tonight.” Eris said. Nesta turned to look at him, expecting him to stand up and resume their journey. But like Diadoro, Eris remained seated.

“What are you doing?” Nesta asked, puzzled.

Eris shrugged. “Sitting?”

“Aren’t you going to prepare me for tonight?”

“I see no reason why I cannot do that here. Diadoro and Calypso certainly won’t spill our secrets, Lady Archeron.”

Nesta rubbed the gelding’s head. “Am I supposed to sit on the ground?”

Eris smirked playfully. “If you insist on a chair, my lady, it would be my pleasure to bring you one. Actually, more of a displeasure, since I am quite comfortable and do not feel like standing up.”

Nesta huffed, but smoothed her skirts and sat herself on the ground with her legs crossed. The grass was surprisingly dry and springy, no dirt or bugs finding their way onto the fabrics. Diadoro, seemingly offended that she did not lean into him, curled his head around and put his nose in her lap. Nesta flinched at how his mouth was resting right on her ankle, but the horse simply sighed. The weight of his head in her lap was heavy, but soothing. Slowly, Nesta removed her other glove and wrapped her hands around Diadoro’s face, stroking gently.

“Good girl.” Eris purred in a voice that sent a shiver up Nesta’s spine.

“You said Diadoro was a male.” She said, looking up at Eris.

His smirk was positively feline. “He is. I wasn’t talking to him.”

Nesta could only stand to look at him for another second before turning her attention back to the horse. Her braided cornet did nothing to hide the redness in her cheeks, and if Eris made a comment about it she would rip his head clean off. Luckily, the prince merely continued like nothing had happened.

“Anywho,” Eris’ voice came back to its usual cocky tone. “My father is still conflicted over having you in his court, and tonight is your chance to convince him to let you stay.”

Nesta frowned. “I thought you said that he was practically salivating over the idea of us marrying.”

Eris pulled an apple slice from his pocket, feeding it to Calypso before continuing. “He is. But he is also a… traditional male. He is not happy that he and Rhysand did not agree to it first. In his eyes, you are Rhysand’s property to be given away to me with his blessing. Since both Rhysand and my father were denied that, we have a problem. Beron knows that Rhysand did not want you to leave his court, and by having you here he risks the wrath of the Night Court.”

“But I came willingly.” Nesta protested.

Eris shook his head. “Your opinion on this means nothing to my father. Whether you went willingly or not, he does not care. Since you were not given away, Rhysand could technically wage war to bring you back. And as much as my father would love to smite Rhysand into the dust, it is not a war he can afford to fight right now. But you have to convince him that it would be.”

“So let me get this straight,” Nesta fought to push aside the terrifying thought of Rhysand and his circle barging into the Autumn Court to claim her like she was a piece of property. “I have to convince your father that I am worth going to war over keeping?”

Eris nodded. “Correct. He will not give you over easily because it would make him look weak. But he also does not think enough of females to see them as valuable enough to go to war over.”

Every hateful thought and awful thing Nesta had said and done came rising to the front of her mind like a tidal wave. The parts of herself that she hated clawed their way to the surface, screaming at her for inconveniencing everyone around her.

And they were right. You had risked your life to get Nesta out of the Night Court, possibly forfeiting your own in the process. Eris had been beaten bloody by his father for rescuing her. Everyone who helped her had suffered, all because Nesta didn’t want to train in the House of Wind and live in Velaris. And she hated herself for it, for being so weak.

“Eris,” Nesta spoke slowly, her voice hollow. “I’m not worth all this….”

Eris scoffed, glaring at her with his emerald eyes. “I object,” He said plainly. “And not just because you are a powerful female with power from the Cauldron itself. I’ve known (Y/N) many years since she and Lucien became friends, and she is an excellent judge of character. If she thinks you are worth it, then you are. And I think so too.”

Nesta’s heart ached at the mention of you. She missed the sound of your voice, the presence of your being on the other end of the bond. Every day, she reached out to you and every day she was met with nothing but a dark void. She cleared her throat, shoving her feelings back down. “So how do I do it?”

“There are a few rules when it comes to interacting with my father. Many of them you probably know already from growing up with an influential family. Always wait until he tells you to be seated, dress to impress, all of that stuffy nonsense. But never speak to him unless he speaks to you first, and never let him goad you into any sort of reaction. Beron Vanserra loves his mind games, and will look for any excuse to throw you out. And it’s best to just do whatever he says.”

Nesta’s voice went quiet. “Will he hurt me?”

Eris looked at her, a tense seriousness in his gaze. “Not at first,” He said calmly, as if talking to a frightened animal. “If you upset him, he will likely hurt somebody else to take the edge off. But he will not hesitate to hurt you with his words, and you would be wise to submit to him and let him think he hurt your feelings. You cannot stand up for yourself. Let him think he’s breaking you, but do not be too emotional about it. It is a fine line, I understand, but an important one. If you are too emotional, he will see you as weak. But standing up to my father would be challenging him, something he would surely execute you for. So no, he would not harm you physically at first. But if you decide to stay…”

His voice trailed off, making Nesta nervous. “Eris,” She said sternly. “Tell me.”

For once, the Autumn prince looked nervous. “If you decide to stay, he will want to wield you like he would a sword. You would have to train your magic intensely so that you could be of use to him as soon as possible. And he will want proof of improvement. If you fail to do so then yes, Nesta, he will likely harm you. He would not kill you, not when he could use you to his advantage. But using pain, fear and torture to get what he wants is common. He would also want us married as soon as possible so you can start having children.”

Nesta shuddered at the idea of being bred like livestock over and over again. As a child her mother taught her that one day she would have to bear children for her husband. But this… this was different. This was for the sole purpose of distributing her power through Beron’s line, not because he wanted grandchildren. Beron would be even crueller to her children than her grandmother was to her, a bitter thought. Diadoro nestled his nose deeper into her lap, bringing her back to reality.

“It is unpleasant, I know.” Eris said. “But if you train your magic, you can defend yourself. And it is my goal to be rid of my father before things can get to that point. Once I am High Lord, and you are my wife, you do not have to be subjected to such a fate. You are not a broodmare.”

Nesta studied Eris carefully, fixing him with a steady look. “But you would like me to provide you with children.” She said it as a fact rather than a question.

“If that is your wish.” Eris spoke slowly, as if carefully calculating his words. “It would be my honour to have you bear my child. You are an attractive female whose company I enjoy, even when you shoot daggers at me with your eyes. And I will not deny that your magic appeals to me – like calls to like, Nesta. But there is no pressure to go that route, I am perfectly content without children or with them. And we have centuries to figure that out, Nesta.”

Nesta nodded, turning her gaze back to the horse, who was now sound asleep in her lap. She hadn’t thought about what this plan with Eris would look like long term, her marriage to him. Truthfully, not much thought had been given to what her future would look like. For months, Nesta had been stuck in a whirlwind of self-hatred and confusion. Even just making it to the next day was difficult, let alone coming to terms with the fact that she was now immortal and would possibly live for centuries.

Eris was handsome and charming, for all his faults. She had grown up expecting to be in a loveless marriage like her parents, where their children were the only thing that kept them together. Perhaps that would be her and Eris, but a small, naive part of Nesta prayed it wasn’t. She did not know if she wanted to be loved by him, necessarily. But to have someone in her life that looked out for her and respected her just like you had… perhaps Eris would fulfil that role. Only time would tell.

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