Eris Vanserra - Blog Posts

SANTA TELL ME [pt. 1]

@ofduskanddreams I was so excited when I knew that I was gonna write for you, like really excited. I'm sorry I got a bit late but I hope you really, really like it.

This is the first part of a multi chapter fanfic and I hope that you really enjoyed it.

Warnings: English is not my native language so I'm sorry for any possible spelling mistakes.

Azriel didn't expected his life to be like this when he was a child.

Well, maybe it did, but definitely did not expect to be a courtier in his work just to make alliances. He, as a matter of fact, was a better courtier than his brother was, he loved Cassian, but he was an asshole and sucked in all the aspects of the work it has to be done.

He was okay with being a spy, with interrogating and murdering people, well, not okay with it, but he learned that it was for the better for the Court and did know his job was relevant and it had to be done. Sometimes he thinks of it and doesn't know what to do with his life if it wasn't for the job he has been doing for the past five hundred years.

But having to work even in the holidays. He was maybe not a big fan of the rumbling and the stupidity of all the things he had to endure during solstice, but was one of the only holidays he had, and maybe was a little angry with Rhys for accepting in his name to go a week into the Winter Court to see the holidays there and make a treaty between the Winter and Night Court, but it did pissed him off.

He was expected to accept it since Mor was back from the fucking Continent and Amren wouldn't go, and his brothers and his mates were obviously out of question being the first solstice as a pair for Cassian and Nesta and being the first solstice of Nyx, so he was the better option. Well, the only option available, cause Elain was out of question again.

Between the three of the brothers he was the most patient one, since his life consisted in waiting and waiting for his job to be done, but he was done waiting and wanted to scream to Rhys for the fuck he happened to be the solstice.

That he could join them for the night after solstice for the annual snowball fight, and definitely he would make them pay for this, cause Cassian agreed it was a good idea to make it happen.

But tonight he did not have any patient, so when he throws the glass he has on his hand to the wall it shatters in many pieces, oh how he wanted it to be one of his brothers, he was fuming.

And nobody could do anything about it, not now that the answer had been sent to the Winter Court.

He needed something to calm down, or it will be a very long week. Seven days, he had to survive in the Winter Court for seven days before he could wipe that attitude off Rhys's and Cassian's face with the floor.

Oh how he hated them in this fucking moment.

He hated not being in control, he was a fucking control freak, how could he not when all his choices where out of his hands for all his childhood and early adulthood, even now he hand not all the control in his fucking life. He adored his family, he really did, but not now, not when they make decisions for him without even noticing until the night before he had to go.

Oh he would not go unnoticed. He had a clear idea of what to do hen he arrived, but definitely he would destroy Cassian and Rhys in the annual snowball fight, he had won many before and would won many after this one. He outnumbered the other two of them, not even adding up his victories did they compare to Azriel's.

He didn't tried to sleep, it was useless, he knew he couldn't sleep in this fucking situation. So he started thinking of anything he could've forgotten, even though he knew he hadn't forgot anything.

When he had calmed down he picked a book of the library he had in his plain room, he had read it at least a dozen times, but he hadn't get any knew book that caught up his attention a simple bare minimum, so he kept re-reading the books he already read.

He spent all the night reading till the sun was up, then he had put down the book and took his bag full of clothes, plans, and information he had not memorised. If he was being honest, he remembered quiet well, but being an asshole knowing almost everything normally made people feel uncomfortable, so he pretended most of the times he didn't knew, other times he was extremely cocky about it, reaching the top level of being an asshole.

Cassian was already up when he came out of his room, but choose to ignore him, he really did not wanted to talk to someone so early, he would shout at him if pushed far enough, and he would push, even though he knew it was not good for any of them.

He was gonna go out for several days and eve though it was all bullshit it was better than having to see all happiness around him revolve while he was unsure about everything.

The bag on his shoulder didn't felt like any weigh was there. A remember of all the little things he needed to be set up in another place. A feeling of discomfort waved from his chest. His life was a scattering mess again and again and again, and he couldn't pull from the waves that were pushing and pushing him far below from the surface.

He loved Nesta and Feyre like her sisters, he really did, but before them he was taken care by Rhysand and Cassian even though he did in fact not tell anyone he was hurting, and here they were, far apart from each other, maybe it was unintentional but he did not wanted to go to the Winter Court. It was freezing there, and when it was really winter in all the other courts it was almost unspeakable how his hands really hurt with all the extra freezing.

Not any gloves could fix that shit.

So he started flying, snowflakes in Velaris were merely starting to fall, and when he was out of reach of the city he had called home for centuries now, he winnowed far away. Just when he reached the border of Nearon, the capital of the Winter Court, he started to feel his hands begin to frozen up.

How he hated winter and how he loved it at the same time.

He hated how it make him shiver every time he saw something like a cave or a hole on the ground full of snow, he remembered very well how it was back in his fathers house, the cell full of worms and snow in winter. He hated how his hands ache all this time after the incident with his step brothers, he hated the memories of all of that. He mostly hated winter.

But he loved it when it was not freezing but chill outside, late winter reaching spring, with the chill and the sun bathing all his body without being feeling hot. The snowball fight was the only time he loved snow.

He looked his surroundings, while his shadows explored all the zone. In less than ten seconds there were two white heads that caught his attention. Kallias and Viviane, High Lord and the Lady of the Winter Court.

"Shadowsinger, a pleasure to see you" said Viviane with a wide smile.

"Pleasure is mine" he said with a nod.

It didn't take him long to have it his own way while both of them started speaking of something about the holidays. Azriel was unsure why but his shadows were starting to wander far, far away from him.

"This week we wanted that our visitors meet our traditions so that they could maybe catch some for their Courts, and maybe start a new trade way." Kallias didn't say anything else.

He didn't comment, but was in fact curious of who else would be visiting in this holiday another Court for work and allies purposes.

It wasn't till he saw the palace from far far away that he smelled a smoky scent. Burnt wood, cinnamon and leather, that what it smelled like, and he knew quite well who that scent belonged to. If the holidays weren't terrible enough they might just get worse.

Eris Vanserra was grinning in their direction. Azriel couldn't be more pissed of.

*lands on your rooftop* JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS! Santa is back in town. I hope you had a great week!! I have a few more questions for you friend:

How would you describe Eris & Azriel individually? What are your headcanons about them as individual characters?

Is there anything you absolutely DON'T want to see in the fic? Like any tropes you hate, characters you'd prefer not to see, topics that are a no-go for you?

Would you want the fic to be Christmas/Winter Holiday themed or inspired?

That is all for now!! I'll be back, ho ho ho!

Hellooo Santaaaa!

Im thinking that Eris is a total jerk, but a funny type of jerk that on the inside is like a fluffy cloud, but he doesn't show that part of himself cause he's son of Beron y'know.

Azriel is like a moody cloud, like very close up but at the same time very funny and sarcastic when he wants it, I totally feel he's a cuddler and Eris loves it, but at first it was like hell no.

My headcanons about Eris is that he loves in secret Lucien, like he's his little brother y'know. Other headcanons are that he has a total skincare routine for every f*cking day, like he doesn't go to sleep without it.

About Azriel is that he has bat slippers, like really fluffy and comfortable, he prefers soft surfaces to stay like for sleeping or just sitting around cause he doesn't think quite well of himself but he loves to take care of his body at his age and is sth important to him.

I don't want like a fluffy fic from start to end, like something between angst to almost the end and then some fluff. Also no Nyx, or Feysand, cause like they have so many f*cking fanfics and many books I want it to be this two centered.

There are no no-go topics for me, like I don't really want to see the things I've mentioned but are okay if your idea have them.

Like maybe yes, maybe not, it all depends if you want to make an angsty fic and your idea matches it. Don't really care about that.

Have a nice week! Sorry for being late to respond, I was busy, any other questions you know we're am I.

A Court of Shackles and Glass

Chapter Four

Word Count : 8.7k

Warning(s) : N/A

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (coming soon...)

Lyphon

I always preferred eating outside to eating inside. I want to eat where there is sun on my back and I’m surrounded by fresh air with a cool breeze that quietly passes by, ruffling my hair a little. Maybe surrounded by beautiful flowers or plants or trees. But in general, eating outside is better. I don’t care if it’s a feast or a small snack, it doesn’t really matter so long as I’m filling my stomach and I’m not stuck inside a dull castle.

And the Spring Court is the perfect place to have a picnic. It was Lucien’s idea originally, Tamlin was hesitant but complied, leading us to a field and setting everything up. Lucien explained that there several snacks, foods, and treats were set up with tea and some fruit juices. He had helped me avoid sitting on any snacks or creases that would cause a spill. Now we all just sit in silence, enjoying our lunches.

In the background I can hear birds singing as a gentle breeze dances with the vines of a nearby willow tree. A small creature is running through the grass, probably a bunny. I imagine it’s still quite beautiful here. My family had visited this Court a few times for official business. Each time I was enchanted and thought it was gorgeous here. Our plants never looked as lively, vibrant. Our gardens could never compare to the one’s of Theron’s for example. Even after he taught us how to garden better. Maybe it was the soil. Maybe our home could never host life properly, or at least normal life.

Of all the Courts I believe Spring was always my favourite. Winter was too cold, though Gyn always loved it’s frigid weather and her ties to it. Autumn was too cruel, or at least the Vanserra’s always had incredibly untrustworthy characteristics to them, except Lucien, who has proven he’s nothing like the Vanserra’s I’ve met. Summer was nice, but it usually had more tropical plants, less fields of flowers and more water. Dawn was always nice though, a comforting feeling place that always played neutral parts well. Day was…so lively. It was always bright and everyone had a never ending energy until the sun set. It was exhausting, but the libraries were always magical and incredible. We could get lost for years inside them and we’d be content with it. The Night Court was dreadful, misery everywhere and no light underground. Velaris was nicer, but I always felt a little cooped up there, I couldn’t explore a lot. At home Gyn would take me on walks, we’d explore for hours, she’d tell tales of things, I’d listen. We’d be home well past sundown. Despite how much older my brother and sister are, there were still some spots they’d never found before. Creatures they’d never met. Our home can be a living hell, but it never fails to offer endless adventure outside, endless fantastical elements with calm danger.

There were some nights where I was upset, and I’d thought I was quiet and sneaky, that I could get away with crying myself to sleep. Whether it was from stress or genuine hurt, it never mattered. Achlys and Gyn would scoop me up in my blankets and we’d leave with the moon being the only thing illuminating our path. To calm me down they would hum or sing lullabies, show me beautiful, gentle animals and flowers, and tell me stories of a brave Prince who greatest battle was against his heartless Father, the King. It worked everytime. I would fall asleep, comforted and happy. I always woke up in my bed, smelling flowers, a vase of them beside my bed, freshly cut and from one of their personal gardens. Gardens Theron helped plant, gardens that could rival those of the Spring Court’s. Which makes sense, Theron was a male my age who became the High Lord of Spring. He was smart like Boreas and Cosmas, befriending my siblings so he’d have their protection and support. Though their original intentions faded after time, we all did become and stay genuine friends. Long gone are those days though.

Sighing I take another bite of my sandwich. It’s funny, thinking of such old memories. And now that I think of it..this is where I met Reqius. He was a servant, one of the gardeners, he attended to several sections of roses, all of which he expertly kept alive and gleaming..yes I met Reqius in the Spring Court. And now all I have left of him is Ellian. That poor, sweet boy. By the Mother I hope he’s alright. He was always strong and brave, even after what happened to Rima and Terris. He had Reqius’s kindness and determination, so of course he was never easily shaken.

“Enjoying your sandwich, Lyphon?”

Lucien’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, returning me to the Spring Court and our lunch. I hum, nodding.

“Yes, it’s well made, thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank us for. The chefs made everything, we merely brought everything here.” Tamlin speaks up, his voice rough enough that he clears his throat afterwards.

“Yes, well, you still allowed us to eat outside, which is a nice change. So thank you for that.”

The two are silent for another few minutes, everyone enjoying the snacks or sipping drinks. Tamlin speaks again though, that serious High Lord attitude appearing again.

“I have news.”

I imagine Lucien perking up at this, interested by the announcement and excited on my behalf.

“Did Lyphon’s family contact you?”

I chuckle a little before Tamlin can answer. While the notion is nice, the reality isn’t quite the same.

“I doubt they would. They know that we know better and that we’ll return on our own time, I doubt they’re worried about me or my siblings. I would be more surprised if they did.”

“His family did not contact us, no. I had asked Helion about any records regarding his family, and recently he has invited us to stay a week in the Day Court. Because of this invitation I believe he has found something. He never disclosed that however. So the beginning of next week is when we will visit.”

I hum quietly. Helion…High Lord of the Day Court. I’ve not even the slightest idea about who he is or what he’s like. I can remember one of his ancestors though, or who could be his ancestor. His name was Atalo. He was clever with a quick tongue and charming personality. I suspected that it was all a charade, a carefully made mask, but no one ever batted an eye at him because of it. He was also quite intelligent, and generous enough to allow some to visit the libraries. I wonder how alike the two are. Somehow I doubt Helion will be too serious, like Atalo.

Visiting for a whole week…that should be interesting. It would be nice to visit the libraries again, see any new editions to them. Plus, it would be interesting to see what records Prythian has on us. I’m sure there’s a few ugly patches, but as far as I’ve been aware we were never all that bad, we helped more than we challenged or caused trouble since we had several of our own issues to deal with.

Humming I switch trains of thought.

“Lucien, you previously mentioned you aren’t from Spring. Are you from Autumn?”

Lucien is quiet for a moment, softly humming as he thinks, likely deciding whether to answer me or change the subject. He sighs a little, taking a sip of whatever drink he chose before settling on his answer.

“I was..but I left and came here instead since Tamlin and I were old friends. He let me stay and made me his emissary.”

I hum a little, carefully searching for my glass and taking a sip of my juice. There’s clearly more to the story, but I won’t push, it’s likely a touchy subject anyways.

“I see..tell me. Are the others High Lords cruel?”

Tamlin grunts, almost scoffing.

“It’s a mix. Beron is notoriously cruel, along with Rhysand. Tarquin is more on the kind side. Kallias and Thesan tend to be more neutral. They’re not cruel, but they don’t jump to be kind either. Helion seems to be between neutral and kind, but I’m sure he has the capability to be cruel.”

I chuckle quietly.

“Anyone has the capability to be cruel, should they be pushed far enough. Even the kindest of people can crack and eventually shatter, usually leading to a terrible consequences for everyone surrounding them. Though some are just naturally cruel, whether they intend to be or not.” I say, my head falling back a little. If my eyes weren’t so bad I’d be staring at the sky, maybe watching clouds float by, observe their odd shapes.

That being said though, I’m hoping Gyn and Achlys aren’t stuck in Autumn or Night. Sure we had friends in both in the past, but that was a very long time ago and those ties have been cut. Briefly I wonder what it would take to rebuild those alliances. Probably a lot of bargaining, honestly.

“You sound like you speak from experience.” Tamlin says, sounding almost thoughtful.

“Yes, well, I’ve seen it many times before. The kindest souls being pushed to their very limits and yet still, being expected to act as sweet and unbothered. The cruel ones see them as nothing but stupid pawns to walk all over, and when the time comes when they snap..somehow everyone is surprised.” I hum, “there was one such case many years ago with a family, who had been causing us a lot of trouble, and we suspected it was entirely on purpose. We learned quickly they were abusive to their servants, one in particular.”

“I can still recall the marks on their body that couldn’t be as well hidden as the others. It was disgusting. And he was a sweetheart too. Achlys was concerned and warned the family that they’ll end up biting themselves in the ass. But Gyn and I saw it coming miles away. Gyn had a dagger made for them and offered them a job in our main palace. They said no, at first, deciding to stay loyal, hopeful…”

A silence follows, it feels somber and still. Even the breeze feels a little stiff and tense. We all know the ending.

“They endured half a year more..and then they snapped. It was at a banquet they were hosting. We were in attendance. Their eldest son threw a fit, the perfect image of a spoiled, narcissistic brat that thought he ruled the world. He took the brunt of it, and then…chaos erupted. He apparently carried the dagger with him everywhere, and he’d used it to slit the son’s throat.” I sigh, what a night that was. “In a matter of minutes he’d pulled us outside, given us a load of evidence proving their involvement with underground dealings that spelled out their plans of eliminating us and taking the title of ‘Ruling Family’. He’d also set fire to the manor. The family ended up demanding us for compensation, and we refused. Revealing the collected evidence and arresting them. Thankfully, he’s doing much better now.”

I smile a bit at the memory. Had it not been for that devilish family, he probably would’ve been much happier for longer. Not stuck in some hell with a loyalty for the demons surrounding them, hoping them to truly be secretly angels. The poor soul.

Tamlin hums at the story, Lucien stays quiet, mostly. I can hear his eye moving a bit from time to time. I wonder if his eye ever gets dry, probably not as it’s enchanted for one, and likely not made of flesh. I’m sure both my siblings would be fascinated.

“Where is he now?” Lucien asks after a moment, I’m guessing he’s checking that he’s not poor or homeless, something we’d never allow to happen. Homelessness is a death sentence in our Court, it’s basically a crime to allow anyone to sleep anywhere outside, not unless they were given strict permissions from us.

“He took up Gyn’s offer. Though he requested to work in her palace instead. She complied, so now he works and lives there. It’s a good ending to that story. I can’t imagine why anyone would abuse those who serve them, especially if you rely on them. They say there is strength in numbers and well…who will help you when they turn on you? Or when you fall? You’ve essentially made sure there’s no chance of anyone catching you. So what will you do when you need help?”

I hear nothing, so I imagine Lucien nodding at the information, satisfied with the outcome perhaps.

We return to the silence of before, continuing to snack on our food, drink our drinks. I listen for anything nearby. The wind stays gentle, there’s the odd bird singing a few notes, and sometimes a small critter running somewhere. If I’m not careful there is a good chance I’’ll relax too much and fall asleep.

“Well, it’s time I go back inside. I have a meeting in a half hour and plenty of paperwork to sort through.” Tamlin speaks up, standing up afterwards. He leaves, walking back towards the manor, Lucien sighing a little.

“I suppose lunch is over then..ugh back to dreadful work then. Do you want to come inside with me, Lyphon? I’ll have the servants gather everything.”

I shake my head.

“No, I’ll stay here a while longer. Thank you though.”

Lucien stays quiet for a moment before turning and heading back to the manor, leaving me to my lonesome.

Gyn

I’m relying heavily on muscle memory to get me through this. I haven’t had to fight or use a weapon against someone in a very long time, so actually training again is…interesting. At some points I briefly get excited when I recognize the preparation of a move from my opponent or when I guess their next move correctly. But those moments aren’t very common and honestly they feel more like deja vu than getting a question right on a quiz.

Across from me Tarquin is braced and ready for any possible oncoming attacks on my end, not that any are coming, I’ve sort of forced myself into defensive to the point I’m not sure I’d ever let myself try anything offensive for fear of making a fool of myself. Thank the cauldron Tarquin doesn’t seem to mind though.

We circle each other. While I eye him warily he simply looks at me with amusement. I suspect we both think a child could fight better than I am. Sighing I go back into a defensive stance, this is starting to tire me out more than yesterday.

“You’re not even going to try to attack me once?” Tarquin teases, making me scowl. By the gods this makes me think of Achlys again. We’d both mock and tease each other when training together, pissing each other off endlessly.

“Maybe some other time Tarquin, besides, didn’t you say you wanted to practice some offensive moves?”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yes, well, that was with the hope and assumption that you wouldn’t make me overuse every move I’ve learned. Not once have you attacked me. Since when have you ever been strictly on the defensive?”

“Today. I haven’t had a reason to fight recently, so this feels abnormal to me right now.”

He raises a brow, looking rather amused by something.

“And you think I’ll go easily on you because of that?”

I scowl, an expression that’s probably quite common for me.

“Not at all.”

Tarquin smirks, going in for another jump attack. One arm keeps his midsection protected, the other raised with a sword in hand. I’m already on the edge of the rink, so I angle my body more leftwards and back up, moving along the edge. If he jumps me or hits me hard enough I’ll definitely loose..though right now that isn’t sounding too bad. I’m getting pretty worn out, my breathing is already a little strained and my movements are slowing down, even if by a little, my reaction time is slower too, and I’m sure by now he’s picked up on that. Though he hasn’t bothered to capitalize on it..for some reason.

The attack is followed by a few more, smaller and more controlled ones, ones that require less energy but are still effective, especially when used correctly. His movements are swift, and I actively have to put more effort and energy into dodging than before, a few strikes nearly hit.

Tarquin makes one last move, light glinting off the steel as it narrowly misses the bridge of my nose, instead severing a stray hair halfway. The thin strand falls, but rather than landing on the sandy floor of our little sparring arena, Tarquin catches it, pinching it between two fingers. His smirk grows as he holds it up for us both to see.

“You’re getting slow.”

Sighing, I can only nod. The arm carrying my own sparring sword drops, the blade feels heavy in my hands and I’m all to aware of the sweat dripping down my neck, back, and sides.

“Yes, well, I’m getting tired.” Breathing and speaking are two things I cannot do simultaneously, right now at least. “Honestly, I’m not sure I can even continue after this..goodness, I yield. If you need me-”

“You do not yield.”

“Excuse you?”

He chuckles seeing my expression. But repeats what he said nonetheless.

“You. Do not. Yield.”

I raise a brow, though my annoyance still clear. Huffing I take a step back, or try to. It would be enough for me to technically lose. But Tarquin isn’t having any of it. He grabs my wrist, pulling me towards him and backing up into we’re both in the center of the ring, inches apart. I’m not enjoying the victorious look on his face.

“You are not allowed to yield or leave this ring until you’ve attacked me. And no ‘low effort’ attacks either, I want you to treat me like an actual opponent. Fight me like you would on the battlefield.”

Only then does he back up, going into a defensive stance. I narrow my eyes this time, more from concern and warning.

“I’d really rather not, Tarquin.’

“Just try.”

Exasperated and getting pretty foul mooded, I back up. He looks confused for a moment before I charge, running at full speed with my sword pointed right at his chest. He raises his arms higher, twisting his sword to use it as a sort of shield. He moves forward too, planning to take the sword head on, but I move left at the last second, raising the sword to strike him in the head, and then kick him in the knee instead.

He grunts as he almost kneels. Swiftly I kick at his nose, then at his chest, both attempted strikes are blocked by one arm, the other being used to raise his sword and aim a strike. He stabs at my chest, I barely raise my own sword fast enough to block that. I jump back, giving us both space as he stands to his full height and starts to approach, smiling.

It’s his usual smile, the one that’s soft and in any other context would make me think of calming waves and shining pearls. But right now it just puts me more on edge. I wonder if he smiles at his enemies like this before killing them.

Huffing slightly I run at him full speed, keeping my sword and body lowered. At the last second I dodge to the side, spinning just enough to get behind him and kick the back of one of his knees before pressing the sword against his throat, not enough to do any real damage, of course.

He grunts as he lands, using a hand to keep the sword’s edge away from his throat. He must not have been very affected by the attack however, since he’s quick to roll forward, taking me with him. I think I feel my spine crack a few times. I groan as we stop with him and planting of his body weight laying atop of me, specifically my chest. Now I’m taking in even less air. I’ll probably pass out in a minute.

Hissing I put more effort into moving the sword back towards his neck. My arm shakes as he pushes back. While he’s a bit more distracted I raise my legs, high enough to wrap them firmly around his diaphragm, before squeezing like a boa constrictor. This might not work out well for me though. I wouldn’t be surprised if he can hold his breath longer or be able to last longer without oxygen than the average fae.

He almost tenses up immediately. One hand works on keeping the sword away from his throat, the other works at untangling my legs or at least loosening them enough that he won’t have to fight for air every breath. He’s not giving up fast enough though, so I reach out with my free hand and place opposite his hand on the sword. Twisting the sword in my other hand, I make sure it’s flat against both our palms. Despite wheezing a little, Tarquin manages to chuckle slightly.

“How are you supposed to slit my throat with the sharp edge facing away from me?”

A strangled laugh escapes me, I sound a bit exasperated, desperate too.

“If I get it close enough, strangling you will all be too easy. All I need to do is angle it properly between your neck and jaw.”

He barks a laugh, the sound startling me and I’m temporarily unsure of how to react. Is he ok? Is he pushing himself too far? Do I need to do something? He stops before I can check for any health problems though.

“You nasty, nasty girl.”

“You’re the one who told me to fight like you were my enemy. I don’t necessarily need a quick victory, I just need to win..or lose. Whichever will make you let me leave faster.”

He grunts as I pull the sword closer to his throat, cursing the hand trying to remove my legs switches between hitting my side with the hilt of his sword and with as much force as he can use at the moment, and trying to push the sword away. Each strike to my side feels like fireworks of pain exploding and worsening with each strike. He doesn’t even need to hit me anymore for my whole side to ache and throb, but it’s worse at the main strike point, which would be my bottom rib.

With a rough gasp I tightening my legs around him as much as I can, both legs shaking as I struggle to keep squeezing his diaphragm. It’s paying off though. His breathing has become short, quick gasps that I know aren’t getting him much air. Close, so close to victory. Until I’m not.

His one arm raises again, poised and ready to strike.

“No-”

Pain explodes in my entire side as the hilt of his sword strikes the bottom bone again. I feel a crack, probably the rib fracturing. Lovely. Unfortunately I falter, one hand slipping briefly from the sword, giving him enough time and strength to rip the sword from my hands and toss to the other side of the arena. He hits my fracturing rib again, I hiss, agony and lack of energy causing my legs to loosen, practically flopping to the side as Tarquin quickly unwraps my legs.

I barely notice him turning until it’s too late. Instantly air is whisked from my lungs and I try to inhale, only to meet the resistance that is his weight pressed onto my diaphragm through his knee. The point of his sword presses against the middle of my throat.

Oh if Great Great Grandfather could see me now..I would surely never be able to return home until I floored him in the first 10 seconds. I would be quite the disappointment. I might’ve had an excuse as a child. But not now. I’m fully grown and I’ve already been trained. To think Ulysse was so successful I can barely fight now. Cauldron I might just cry myself to sleep tonight. Coming from a family who takes pride in their strength and ability to defeat others…of course I feel like a weakling now. A failure almost.

Anger boils up inside at the thought. After everything I’ve had to go through to prove myself, to get a peaceful, quiet living, this is what I’ve become? It was really this easy? To defeat me, weaken me, make me give up?

I basically snarl like an animal as a grab a fistful of sand and throw right as his eyes. I don’t give him time to process as he raises a hand to block the sand, possibly get some out of his eyes. I punch him in the throat, then raise a leg to kick him in the crotch before using that leg to shove him away. As he lands, wiping the sand from his eyes, I stand up, marching over to my sword and picking it up. When I turn he’s still keeled over, coughing though. I have to make this quick. It seems we both are going till the other taps out, so I’ll have to force him to. Pressing a blade to his head won’t do that, but almost slitting his throat probably will.

Before he can get up, I stand over him and put the blade in the curve between his jaw and his neck, before carefully pulling up. I don’t actually want to hurt him, but I need him to give up. He almost curses, scrambling to push the blade away, but I don’t let him move it. He’s trying hard not to cough, but it’s clear he’s about to and if he does blood will likely spill..well maybe, I’m not entirely sure how sharp these swords are. Huffing he hits my leg three times.

Sighing with a bit of relief I move the sword away, tossing it to the other side near the stands that hold other practice blades. Moving a few feet away I sit down on some of the steps, wincing as my side throbs again and the pain spasms when I cough a little. Tarquin practically has a coughing fit for a minute, but he’s okay otherwise, thankfully. When that’s done he stands up, takes a few deep breaths, and turns to me.

“Congrats.”

Quietly he walks over, offering a hand. I take it, almost distracted by the contrasting feel of soft yet calloused. He pulls me up into a standing position.

“Ah well, thank you. Though I’m certain you did more damage than me. Much more. So good job for that.”

He frowns at that, eyes instantly going to my side. One hand reaches, about to touch the growing red patch, but I grab his wrist before it can.

“Please don’t. My rib was fractured. I know you’re gentle, but that will still hurt.”

Concern colours his eyes as they flick back up to meet mine.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize- let me take you to the healers.”

He’s quick, I’ll give him that. I can’t form a response fast enough before he’s slipping the hand hovering above my side into my own hand, tugging me towards the exit.

“No- it’s fine, Tarquin. I’ll be fine. Just let me rest and I’ll look after it once I’m more energized.”

Stubbornly though, he shakes his head, pulling me along.

“No. We’re going to the healers. I won’t risk you accidentally harming yourself further by using this chance to practice your abilities more. I trust you know what you’re doing, but I’d rather have you healed immediately than wait for you to do it yourself.”

Sighing I increase my pace to match his, following him as he expertly moves from hallway to hallway in search of the healers wing. Or just healers. I’m assuming there’s a mini-hospital in the castle, but I could be mistaken.

We both fall into a comfortable silence. Him, determined to find a healer and searching. Me, lost in thought as I stare out any windows at the vast sea. The silence is softly broken though when Tarquin asks a question.

“What was that, back there? Do you hate losing?”

I’m quiet for a moment, thinking.

“No..not quite, at least. I- I think it was more just, in my family, strength is something that we were raised to put a lot of pride in. Me and my siblings, we were all raised with the ideal that we couldn’t afford to lose, not even once.”

“Couldn’t afford to lose..what do you mean by that?”

“I suppose a simple way of saying it is that by my family’s standards, loosing means you’re weak. And in a family that values strength highly..well my Great Great Grandfather has a set of standards that, if not met, mean he’ll make you an outcast or just straight up disown you.” I wince at a few memories that pop up. “The Mortis name carries a lot of protection at home..if you’re apart of the family or at least respected, you’re well protected and regular or weaker creatures won’t attack you, you won’t really be challenged. But otherwise..you’re open game.”

Tarquin hums, nodding slightly.

“I see, well. I think it’s a bit foolish to place all your seashells in one basket, if strength is the only thing your family values..then they’re blinding themselves to many other wonderful things, and building up themselves for failure. Or at the very least, a very miserable family. You didn’t need to beat me for me to know that you’re strong, Gyn.”

His words make me smile, the smile growing into a giggle as I grin at him.

“Thank you, for that. I’m sure it could take me a while to fully agree, but I’m at least aware that my Great Great Grandfather should try using more baskets.”

He chuckles, smiling back. We walk for a few more minutes before we arrive at a door labeled ‘Medical’. He knocks, the door swinging open immediately. A fae woman looks between the two of us, then at my side and motions for us to come inside.

Tarquin leads the way until the woman motions for me to sit on a bed. I seat myself on the edge, and she begins her examination.

“Is your side the only place of concern or are there any other injuries I should be made aware of?”

“Only my side, I’m fine otherwise. My rib is fractured, I don’t know how severely though.”

“I see, very well.”

The woman grabs a clipboard, scribbles a few things down before reaching and, quite gently, brushing her fingers across my side. I grit my teeth as fire follows the light touch, exhaling slowly to stop myself from screaming or cursing too much. Both Tarquin and the healer notice the reaction, of course. And the few tears that threaten to spill. Tarquin gives my hand a squeeze, muttering an apology. I just give him a light squeeze back.

“Well, I’m not sure what the cause of this injury was, but your rib is a hair away from being broken. It’s an easy fix, thankfully. Though I will need to touch you to heal you..”

Tarquin’s eyes widen at her statement. I almost chuckle, but instead respond before he can.

“That’s fine, just get it done with, please.”

The healer nods, nimbly she works at healing me. I hiss at the pain, but it lightens up fairly quickly. It only takes her a few moments to heal my side completely.

“There we are. Everything is fine now, you’re good to go.”

I nod, hopping off the bed.

“Thank you, do I need to pay you?-”

“No, I’m a healer that works under the palace, so I have no fees for anyone I heal. I simply heal anyone brought here and get paid at the end of the week.”

“I see. Well thank you.”

She nods, turning and taking her clipboard with her, heading into an office area. I’m about to say goodbye and head to my room, but the guilt ridden expression on Tarquin’s face stops me.

“Are you alright-”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I had nearly broken your rib. Had I known that would happen I probably would’ve just let you go and rest. I probably should have in the first place. I’m-”

“It’s fine Tarquin. You did nothing wrong. You fought me fairly and I just happened to be injured. This isn’t the worst I’ve ever experienced either, so please don’t let this weigh heavily on you. I appreciate that you didn’t bother going easy on me..at least I don’t think you did. I would find it quite insulting if you decided to baby me after insisting I stay to fight.”

He seems slightly less upset, but still feeling guilty. He nods, acting a bit like that was all I needed to say to convince him. Sighing I shake my head. He almost turns to leave, but this time I stop him, wrapping my arms around him in a hug.

He tenses for a moment, but he returns the hug.

“I’m okay, Tarquin. It’s okay. I strangled you for cauldron’s sake. I should be apologizing to you instead. So please don’t be upset because I got hurt. So did you.”

He sighs, conceding.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll try to…forgive myself I suppose.”

“Thank you, are you busy today?”

“No..I only have one meeting today, thankfully. And that’s just before dinner.”

“Good. Let’s go on a walk. I know you’ll still feel bad or down for a little while, so let’s go on a walk. Clear some of the air. You usually feel better after walks or visits to the beach, right?”

He smiles a little, nodding, letting me push him out of the healers room.

Achlys

The High Lord’s office reminds me of what was my Father’s. A simple yet intricately carved door opening to a spacious area meant for greeting or waiting with two couches facing each other with comfortable and soft pillows placed in the corner between cushion and arm. Then a few small steps that lead into a sort of study area. Both walls lined with bookshelves, two long tables placed two feet away with several cushioned chairs placed around them. Papers, books, quills, and ink pots line the tables too. And then there a few more small steps, leading up to where the High Lord sits, waiting or writing and signing away behind a fancy or elaborate desk that likely has a few hidden compartments for secret or important documents.

I suspect that an important part of the design is intimidation and condescension. I can remember a few times where the long walk from the door to the desk was nerve wracking, all the while my Father wouldn’t even spare me a glance, and I hated how it felt like he was superior and above me, that I wasn’t worth his time, but those rotten documents always were. Just like how he tried to make my baby sister the same, making her sign dozens of practice sheets everyday since she turned 12, and scolding her when she tried to get her work done faster, claiming she wasn’t even reading the pages, that she was making herself to become a poor High Lady.

I work to quiet down the building anger. Snapping at a High Lord has never really done me any favours. And it’s not even like Eris is the one who’s made my sister slave away at a desk for hours on end.

Sighing, I step into the High Lord’s office. It’s warm, probably from the fireplace near his desk that burns away.

Eris looks up from the pages in front of him, placing his quill down. He beckons me forward, waiting patiently while I walk forward. It takes a moment for me to finally reach the desk and sit down in one of the seats placed in front of the desk.

His amber eyes track me the whole way, following me like a predator would when they’re not sure whether they’re stalking prey or another predator. He doesn’t appear tense, but he’s also not relaxed in any sort of way. I’m sure I am only another dangerous problem that has made itself known.

We both stay quiet for a moment, waiting to see if the other will speak first all while staring each other down in silent scrutiny. I decide I’ll be the first to speak.

“You called, High Lord?”

The barest hint of frown. The barest hint of amusement.

“You’ve made me curious. Your family has always brought me fascination, and it is easy to recognize that your siblings would be incredibly helpful to me, and you would be more comfortable if you were all here.”

I don’t bother hiding the disgusted frown that grows on my face. Sure, it would be nicer if we were all together again, but it would be even better if we were together away from this place, outside of the hellish Autumn Court.

“We won’t be your slaves, High Lord. Nor will we ever be. No Mortis ever bows before anyone else. While a reunion would be nice, don’t expect my siblings servitude as a returning favour.”

He chuckles quietly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. But you’re smart, and something tells me that you already have a few guesses as to where your siblings have been placed.” He hums, “I’m going to assume you know you have nothing in Prythian. You can threaten me all you like, but we both know for the time being they are nothing but empty, dangerous words. So let me extend a hand. You tell me about your sister and brother, and in return I will send letters to the High Lords on your behalf. Does that seem fair.”

The disgust melts into a suspicion that does well to disguise itself. I can feel the muscles in my face relax away back into the neutral mask every High Sovereign’s child has become intimately familiar with. My gut tightens though, a sense of unease washing over me like a filthy water that makes you itch to bathe.

“That’s..quite generous of you. Why make such an offer? It seems like you have quite the disadvantage in this deal. Only receiving information and finding my siblings for me in return? I have no doubts you have something else planned. Something that requires that information.”

“Not at all.” He shrugs, “I’m merely curious about your family.”

He smirks, glad I haven’t seen the full picture yet.

“But I’m also playing the long game here. In the end that information can play key roles for me in getting what I want, and I’ll have the satisfaction of having more information as the middle man or messenger. You will never know if I have more information on your siblings, their conditions, and their whereabouts and you’ll have to trust that I’ll share that info with you when I receive it. But, if you decide that you won’t take the deal, you’ll need to collect the information yourself and I’ll willing to bet that you’d rather take the quicker route and find them faster.”

This is a familiar feeling to that of being locked in a chess match against my cousin, Melchor. He’s intelligent in a way that he can trick you into making moves that only benefit him all while making you think it was the better move. Subconscious trickery. But Eris has revealed some of his hand. Nothing too important of course, he’s only given me a slight hint at his intentions and personality in the wad of information I could’ve guessed on my own. It almost feels like a battle of wits.

“Let’s say I do take the deal. Realistically, there isn’t any guarantee that the High Lords will respond in the first place, nor is there any real guarantee that they will respond truthfully. If they’re smart, they, like you, will know or realize how much of an asset my siblings are. And if they’re as scheming and cunning as when we were younger, we’ll be nothing but bargaining pieces for them.”

“That is, assuming, that all our High Lords are in fact the cunning, cruel creatures that made the High Lords when you were younger. Like my Great Great Great Grandfather, Eldmar.”

I almost shudder at the name. I remember Eldmar, quite well actually. He left quite the impression. He had a regal and authoritative presence and he was quite a clever man. You never knew what he was thinking, and he was always able to control any conversation or negotiation he was a part of, always in his favour of course. He was scary in how strategic he was. It was always odd, being around him. I recognized that I was the more powerful one, and yet I genuinely felt like I was outclassed when I was near him, that I was the weaker one.

“And are they? Like their ancestors? Or are have things changed that much already?”

His eyes narrow slightly, an amused twinkle in his eyes. They haven’t changed that much at all then.

“Some..are different than what you might expect. But I suspect that is because of different circumstances. Most aren’t that much different though, so I can’t say your suspicion is miss placed. How about you just tell me where you suspect they are, and I’ll tell you what their chances are with that Court’s particular High Lord. And I’ll still send letters.”

“Or you could just tell me about the different High Lords that rule today.”

“No. Either you tell me your suspicions and about your siblings, or I let you go about your own research. And I won’t provide you any aid in that case.”

I roll my eyes, but consider the different pros and cons. He’s only asking for information, information he plans to use later on for his own goals. Though his terminology was vague enough where if I agree, I’ll be saying I’ll give any information on my siblings that he requests. But..he’ll also contact other Courts and try to find my siblings. If I went out on my own and went searching for my own answers, I would have a much harder time. I have nothing tying my to Prythian, so getting a job would be difficult or earning any money. I could be perceived as a threat and treated as such if I ever approached any High Lord. I have nothing. But he has something and is offering some of his resources. Groaning I make my choice.

“Fine. Our cousin hated us dearly and I’m going assume placed in locations that played on some of our biggest fears. I hate caves and my prison was placed inside one. My sister is terrified of deep waters, so he’s likely placed her prison somewhere with lots of deep water. Likely the Summer Court. Lyphon hates being buried alive, so somewhere where it wouldn’t be difficult to move a lot of dirt. My best guesses are Spring, Day, and Dawn.”

Eris considers the information, nodding slowly before moving his papers aside and grabbing blank pages and placing them in front of himself.

“I’ll send a letter to Summer. And one to Spring as a starter. We’ll wait for the replies and proceed from there.”

The sound of a quill writing away fills in the silence. I read each word and line as they’re written, following without problem. Reading upside down is something I learned when I was still young. It’s quite handy.

---

High Lord Tarquin,

There isn’t a chance that you have a female by the name of Gyn Mortis under your care at the moment, is there? Or a large, strange prison somewhere deep in the waters that surround your Court? Recently I’ve found one such prison in my Court, it’s prisoner making me quite curious. I wish to find his two other siblings that have also been imprisoned. He has informed me that he suspects his sister resides in your Court at the moment. Should she ask which brother is in my Court, simply answer her elder brother. Do lend a helping hand and bring this family back together?

—High Lord Eris

---

High Lord Tamlin,

How does Spring fare? Recently a strange prison was found in Autumn and the prison had made me quite curious. It is in my interests to help in finding his two other siblings. He has informed me that he suspects his younger brother, Lyphon, could be potentially be found in your Court. Should you find or have found him, please contact me.

—High Lord Eris

---

Once the letters are written and sealed, ready to be sent, he places aside for later, returning his attention to me.

“So then, tell me about your family. Your sister and brother, preferably.”

“What exactly do you want to know? Anything?”

He smiles softly, the smile disappearing quickly.

“Anything. Indulge my curiosity.”

“If you’re really so desperate. Tell me what you already know so I don’t waste either of our time.”

He rolls his eyes, sitting back in his chair while he toys with a quill, spinning it between his fingers as a drop of ink threatens to spill.

“My my, so spoiled and demanding. I don’t know intimate details, only history and impressions about someone based on the writings of the author. I’ve studied the various wars your family was apart of. I’ve gone through all the records my family has about anything that involved your family or Court.”

“And what have you learned about us? You’re smart, I’m sure you’ve already read between the lines.”

A small, prideful smirk grows on his face. He’s glad someone’s finally noticed, I’m sure. Eager to brag or maybe he’s just glad someone finally hasn’t underestimated him. If there is one thing I’ve learned about Autumn, never underestimate a Vanserra, especially ones that parade themselves as weaker or uninterested. Not that Eris checks those boxes, but still. New High Lords are always underestimated and yet to earn the respect of their fathers or forefathers. An unfortunate thing, but it comes with the presumed lack of experience. Observation and experience can be two very different things at times.

“Your family seems oddly peaceful for one that presents itself as violent and threatening. I’ll guess your patriarch is quite selective in what your family gets themselves involved in. All things considered he might even have some morals.”

I snort at the comment. Oh if only he knew or met our oh so wonderful Great Great Grandfather.

“He’s never had morals. He does things when he gets bored or because he gets irritated. He doesn’t do things for ‘good’. Gyn and Lyphon have morals, maybe not as many as some, but more than most in my family.” I don’t stop my snicker, “take a war over freeing slaves. The Knight would fight to stop the annoyance of begging for help and freedom. It could go either way, he would slaughter for either side. Gyn would fight for their freedom. I would simply offer to kill them all, free them that way. And well..Lyphon would probably use everyone’s bodies to help him fight.”

I laugh, quite loudly actually, but it’s true. Lyphon never spared a corpse, if it was available and not too badly damaged it could help him.

“Though, he would likely follow Gyn, he’s like a sheep or a puppy in that case. He looks to her for help and guidance at times. They always connected well, and Gyn was determined to be a good older sister, make life less miserable.”

Eris quirks a brow but hums, spinning the quill the opposite direction now.

“Interesting. I was under the impression that your family had a strict hierarchy, that you all looked to and obeyed your Great Great Grandfather.”

There’s a dark chuckle from me.

“Not necessarily. Pops rarely appears and even more rarely reclaims the control he’s generously given to some of his descendants. There is, I suppose, an hierarchy of sorts. It’s mostly based on power and the relations we have to The Knight. For a while now Gyn and I were considered 2nd in commands, we didn’t rule the Court, naturally. But we were given respect and power for being successful results of selective breeding and proving to be quite useful.

“I’m liked for my obedience because I’ve never had a problem with the orders given. Gyn, on the other hand, can be too timid to speak up against our Great Great Grandfather. So she’s subtle in the ways she defies him. Fighting in wars, but sparing those who wish for peace, and offering them a home, though in a different form. But Pops loves Gyn, so he never punished her. In fact he took interest and praised her for her knowledge in biology and her strength. That being said, we are family you know, not sheep. We only obey as often as we do because we trust Pops’ judgement. He’s never been wrong.”

Eris narrows his eyes slightly, a look of consideration and realization on his face.

“You sound like you trust each other a lot…not quite something I’ve heard of from a High Lord’s family. Usually, from my experience, most High Lord’s and their families aren’t usually on good terms with each other. But it sounds like you might just have..a decent family.”

I frown slightly at that. It’s true, most High Lord’s families I’ve met could be compared more to a den of wolves that have been starved a few days. Or snakes. Something nasty that’s thirsty for blood, rich with envy, and hungry for power that they may or may not use correctly. That being said, my family isn’t all that much better.

“I’m not sure I can agree with you, on that point. We may trust each other for certain things, but we’re as ugly as the rest. Look at me and my siblings. Ripped from our beds by a traitorous cousin and shoved into metal boxes that leeches power from you until you’ve been freed before being tossed into places where he hopes we won’t be found. There is no shortage of hatred, fear, and blood in our family.”

The confession shouldn’t give away too much information, and I don’t believe it can really be used against us. It might sound like it could be easy to sway someone in our family into betraying and killing off family members or imprisoning them. But Pops is quite..meticulous in his control of the family and its members.

An entire tradition has been made out of him rooting out anyone he finds don’t meet his standards. His word is law in the family and if he judges you to be worthless in the family, then you’ll be removed. Countless cousins, aunts, uncles all killed or banished because they’re too weak or useless. Our family is more comparable to a unit in the army than a proper family, I think. Some of us are close, but usually it’s a relationship and bond built up over the years, not something you feel or recognize naturally. Sometimes it just feels like we’re dolls in a doll house, and Pops is the master that controls us.

The door of the office opens and we both turn to see who’s entered. It’s a servant, carrying a silver tray with a tea pot, two tea cups, and some small dishes and utensils for anything we might want to add.

Eris gestures for the servant to approach. They’re quick and quiet as they approach and place the tray on the desk between us where no papers are. They’re just as quick to leave. Reaching forwards Eris takes one of the cups, pouring himself a drink.

“Feel free to refresh yourself with a drink. I don’t imagine this conversation will be over for a little while..”

I hum, reaching forwards to pour myself a drink.

“Maybe not.”

~~~

Thank you for reading and for your patience. Writer's block sucks. Enjoy your day/night.

~~~

Btw, this fanfic is available on Quotev and AO3.

A Court of Shackles and Glass

Chapter Three

Word Count : 7k

Warning(s) : Descriptions of corpses, blood, and possible gore/violence.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (coming soon..)

Lyphon

There was something to be admired about my siblings and their strength. I could sense them from a mile or miles away when we were all at our height of power, though none of us really knew it. I’m sure even now if they entered the Court there would be some slight change, some shift and a little more silence from the wildlife.

Achlys and Gyn truly were ‘The Knight’s Children’. I’d barely been a child when there had been a massive war between several Courts and some far off kingdom. It was a mix of who was against who and the alliances are a little foggy in my mind, but there was one thing that truly stuck out.

One of the Courts managed to form an alliances with our Court and rather than sending out large armies to crush our enemies like usual, Great Great Grandfather had appeared to personally order Achlys and Gyn out into the heart of the battle. He had some sick sort of humour and aura when he arrived. I nearly threw up and passed out, I was terrified for both of them. But our Great Great Grandfather only laughed at my reaction and winnowed us to watch from above. He wasn’t surprised by what happen, but everyone else was. Achlys crushed opponents using their own armour, killed them using their own weapons. He turned every metal thing they had on them against them. And when he seemed to get bored, he either buried soldiers alive or crushed them with boulders made of crystal. Meanwhile Gyn flooded the field with our enemies blood and turned the rest into trees and flowers. That battle had finished within 10 minutes, maybe less. It was horrific.

And then we all went home like nothing happened. Well, Great Great Grandfather challenge me to become as powerful as them, to become their equal. I never fully reached their power, but I came close enough that I was rewarded for my efforts.

For ages and ages I practiced and trained out of pure terror and drive. I didn’t want to disappoint my Great Great Grandfather who clearly saw something in me. But I also wanted respect from my older siblings. So for centuries I perfected my skills and powers, pushing myself to the limit until I couldn’t anymore. And then, when another war came and we were summond by our allies, I was thrust into the fighting too. I never disappointed any of them that day, Gyn and Achlys almost seemed to see me a little differently too, but they kept their looks subtle and their thoughts silent.

And now..I’ll have to restart the entire process. I’m stuck in the Spring Court until I’m strong enough to winnow home again, until I can at least make myself somewhat useful to my family again. I can’t go home completely weak and useless, Great Great Grandfather wouldn’t allow it. He might have a sliver of sympathy or empathy for us, but if we’re too weak in his eyes, we’re not family. We’re something to either dispose of or forget.

Sighing I try to focus on something else, anything else. All these thoughts of home and our Great Great Grandfather are making me anxious, dreading something that isn’t even set in stone. Hissing slightly I will the thoughts from my head, eagerly breathing in the smell of the unditsturbed earth around me.

I frown slightly at the sight of breaking headstones, all barely readable with moss covering many they’ve been so forgotten. I’m aware that this cemetary is abandoned, I asked for one that was abandoned specifically, but it doesn’t stop the disgust and disappointment from seeping into my mouth like a foul poison. Was no one truly here to take care of this graveyard?

Enough, enough. I roll my neck, wincing when loud pops fill the air as I cloes my eyes. Now is not the time to be nitpicky. I have to concentrate and focus purely on my task. I’d love to rush ahead and attempt to resurrect everyone here, but that would leave me so exhausted I wouldn’t be able to move, leaving an entire field of half living creatures to wander and terrorize everything. And High Lord Tamlin wouldn’t be pleased. So I focus on one single soul, one deceased. The grave before me.

Knowledge of names and personal history can be helpful, but it’s not really that neccessary. Truly, all you ever need to do is find their soul, follow that invisible, string from corpse to soul. It’s fascinating, following the string. Some have many strings attached to them from all their different lives, some only have the one. Mates will always have a tether between them, connecting both souls for all eternity. If left for enough time, the string will be weathered, a little harder to follow, but still connected. There have been multiple times though where I attempted to resurecct someone, only to have their new body appear before me, questioning why I summoned them while they were alive and living. Strings always look the same, they never tell you if someone has moved onto their next life or not, so I’ve learned to be cautious, look for any signs of life outside the soul.

Stretching a hand out and pressing it to the ground, I search for the string, reaching subconciously for that small, invisible line tying bones to soul. It’s closer than I realize. The body must be in a shallow grave of some sort, not buried six feet below, maybe half of that. Carefully I follow the string, tugging and pulling softly until I can feel the soft ground below shift. Dirt is moved and pushed away until the pale, stained ivory bones and rotted flesh of a hand and arm push past into the open air.

More dirt is pushed away until the torso of the living corpse can sit upright. An annoyed scowl is present on the man’s face, though the skin around his face is missing a few chunks, showing off dirt stained and holey parts of his skull. His hair is on the longer and more light brown side while his eyes are a dark brown. He’s quick to glare at me, though I ignore the look completely, too focused on my victory to care.

I resurrected a whole human, fully. Quietly I stand up, moving to the next grave beside him, earning me a scoff. I move some dirt away, digging a little with my hands until I’ve dug around two feet. Shutting my eyes again and pressing a hand to the cool dirt, searching and finding the string practically immediately. This time the corpse of a woman sits up, looking around confused and grimacing at the sight of the decomposing man beside her. She avoids looking down though, refusing to see the state of her own body.

I almost giggle giddily as I repeat the process another two times. Two men and two women watching me with mixed emotions as I pant quietly. I’m reaching my limits, but four is a good number. Shakily I reach for a fifth grave. I’m becoming out of breath and the smell of death and dirt and insects and rot and mold will not leave my nose. It probably won’t for several hours. Coughing I snatch at the string, yanking it with a little too much eagerness. Unsurprisingly a hand shoots out, gripping my neck with a surprising amount of strength for a dead man. My lungs instantly loose access to air, though the smell still preasent and nearly heavy in my lungs. My limbs feel like lead, slack at my sides, though still warm from bloodflow. A slow, thumping headache creeps in after a moment. My head feeling as if burning hammers are playing drums in my head. The other bodies watch nervously, as though wondering if my death would free them or trap them eternally. Clicking my tongue I stare right back, managing to open my mouth and rasp out a quiet, ‘help me’.

One of the woman stands, wobbling over on weak, half eaten legs. Her hands prying open the wretched hand around my throat. I cough as air fills my lungs again, I nearly double over. Most of the headache recedes and I watch the arm flail around, swatting and clawing at the air. The woman retreated back to her grave, content to lie down and avoid looking over here. It would seem the only thing alive for this grave is the arm, everything else is still dead. So then 4 corpses and an arm. A good start.

With a grunt I wave my hand, silently commanding them to bury themselves again. I smile softly when the command is successful. I still had enough to do a mental command as well then. Leaning back and resting my head on a headstone, I snap my fingers, all the strings being pulled taught again as the souls rejoined the afterlife, whatever it is.

Gyn

The uniqueness of my family and our abilities has never been lost on me. I’ve always been aware of how different we are compared to everyone else. It’s not necessarily bad, but it’s noticable and not many perceive it as good.

I’ve been told before that none of us felt..like regular High Fae, and to be fair, we’re not. Our lineage and family tree is more mixed than most and in the way that I suspect some were convinced into making deals for power sakes. The goals of my Great Great Grandfather always speak for themselves, clear through the silence.

While there are plenty of differences for others to focus on, many have stuck to prescense and powers. From all my years of being alive I’ve yet to meet another creature with our powers. The first word ever used to describe our powers has always been ‘gorey’. It’s a fair assessment, especially for me. I’m the third in my family to specialize in the manipulation of cells. Not just blood or bones specifically, but cells, the very thing keep so many of us alive and moving and thinking. The complexity of cells is fascinating to me, so at least I wasn’t really bored when studying biology. And as helpful as it can be, being used to create new life or healing many, many people, the fact that it can be so terrifyingly deadly is always what’s focused on.

I’m not sure if it’s my natural expression, or my prescense even, that makes people think, convinces people, that I fully wish to kill and harm everything around me, and I will if I want to. I never really had the intention or the wish to slaughter everyone, even if the chance presents itself. Even in wars I was hesitant, and whenever I was given the opportunity I would ask my enemies if they truly wanted to fight me and die or live a more peaceful, quiet life. Everyone around me disapproved of what I was doing, they scoffed and would mock me. Achlys would demand what the hell I was doing, he never too far and mocked me or called me horrible names since he knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle it coming from him. But I could see it in his eyes, the ugly envy that made him silently demand why he couldn’t be given such a destructive gift, why I was ‘wasting’ it. And I never fully answered his questions, until he snapped and yelled at me. I was stuck staring at the floor, wishing I would just cry like a normal person. And I could say was :

“Why can’t I try to save just a sliver of people? Why can’t I try to give some happiness and peace to souls who never wanted their lives thrown away like the garbage their treated as? Did you even bother pause and look at the world around you, in the heat of everything?

”You never notice their fear, how their hearts pound and their breathing quickens as we approach. For fuck’s sakes Achlys, we’re living death to them! We embody reapers coming to tear out their souls and laugh as we break their bodies. Is it really so bad that I stop and give a choice to some. How many in my garden are actually miserable, how many want to leave. Tell me that. And tell me when have I ever trapped anyone in my garden, refused to let them leave. Believe it or not, I hate their fear.”

Achlys never asked after that..he must have really listened since during any war or battle he always brought me a small group of soldiers afterwards, all brave enough to have some faith in us. I’m definitely glad that my brother is so understanding, I’d probably be hopeless without him.

Anyways. Lyphon’s powers aren’t what I would call ‘gorey’. Yes, he raises the dead, but what do expect from a corpse? Unless they’ve died yesterday, it’s not going to be a pretty sight. Achlys’s powers aren’t gorey either, he works with metals, earth, and stone. It’s more how we all choose to use these powers. Course if we’re fighting someone or an army a lot of blood with spill. The blood will stain our hands red over and over again until our skin matches the colour of the blood beneath. But that’s the way it’s always been, and I doubt it will change.

Sighing through my nose I roll my neck and open my eyes. My room is a very comfortable, wonderful room and a place I’d love to practice in. However, I don’t want to scare any servant checking in on me. Nor do I want Tarquin to watch me practice in case he becomes worried or looses some trust in me to paranoia. Not that I think he would ever loose trust in me because of this power, it’s more I want to be better prepared for when I do tell him. I can’t try to demonstrate something and let it go horribly wrong, unable to fix the problem I made. Plus I don’t need the immediate pressure of eyes on me right now. There’s too many things that can go wrong.

So, with that being said, I’d gone exploring for the past week, hunting for any place that would work for privacy and calmness. And I found the perfect beach yesterday. It’s a good distance from Adriata with white sands and soft, gentle waves that could lull me to sleep if I let it. And at night the waves and sand glow with any movement or weight put on them. Unfortunately I told Tarquin I would return by dinner, which is normally at 6, so I can’t really stay late today. And sunlight is better for reading. I want to master a few things before attempting to change my eyes in any way.

I brought a few anatomy books and one about meditating and keeping calm. The anatomy books are for reminders, I already know everything, but I’d like a bit of a recap just in case. And the mediatation book is just so I don’t freak out or have a meltdown. Having a panic attack when something goes wrong won’t help me, so learning breathing exercises and routines to keep calm is a good aid.

Humming softly I close my eyes again, letting myself search through my body, refamiliarizing the feel of each type of cell when they’re healthy, checking for anything concerning. I only open my eyes once I’ve made sure that everything is in fact healthy and functioning correctly. As tempting as it is to close my eyes again, I focus on watching my hands. In the past I always used my hands as practice do to their simplicity, other times I was just having fun, making the ends of my fingers and nails turn into claws or talons instead.

For old times sake I decide to do that, slowly having my nails grow until they’re long and pointed but slighty curved and thicker. I let the nails grow around my fingertips until it looks like the ends of my fingers are sharp, white talons. Humming I reverse the process, which goes smoothly, to my relief.

It seems quick, rushing to try this next thing, but I’ve already practiced enough and from what I remember this shouldn’t exhaust me too quickly. I could be wrong since when I tried doing this for the first time in my life I had already built up plenty of stamina beforehand. I suppose I’ll be using this moment as a comparison for later.

There was one other thing that I brought with me, a small, miniscule really, jar of a few teeth. Disgusting sounding I’m sure, but they’re my own and it was an easy process, pain free. I just had these ones fall out and then some grow in their place. Simple and easy.

Grabbing the small jar, I take out a tooth, placing it in the center of my palm. I sigh, closely my eyes to take a few deep breaths. This always required more focus, even if I’d done it a thousand times before.

I start small, changing the shape of the tooth into a ribcage, letting it grown into a full skeleton of a bird with the muscles and ligaments following soon after. The body grew as exhaustion slowly crept up on me. Before I could realize everything was finished the now living bird in my hand hopped two or three times, chirping a little and singing a few notes. My eyes fly open, widening at the image of a beautiful, living swallow. It’s head, back, and wings were all a stunning blue that faded into a silver going into it’s tail. It’s underbelly was white and soft looking. It’s eyes were so dark but fixed on me as it watched curiously.

I was successful. I made a small bird, grew it from a tooth. Soon I could make something bigger, maybe a dog or a bear. Or even a horse. But start small, I’m already getting tired, which is what I get for only going on walks for a week and neglecting to practice. Giggling I pet the small bird, it’s feather were soft and smooth. It chirps a few times, flying to stand on my shoulder. What a day, I’ll need to start practicing on the way here. Based on the sun it’s around an hour till dinner, so now is a good time to leave.

I pick up my books and jar, humming softly and then grunting as I stand, brushing off any sand on my legs. The swallow sings along to the humming, much to my delight. Turning I head back to a path that leads up a sort of steap hill. The beach is only accessible through the path since there’s sort of a cliff or wall of dirt blocking it off. That or you jump down, but I wouldn’t recommend it since it’s at least a 10 foot drop.

I’m almost panting when I reach the top. I huff, feeling shame build up at the realization that I’m probably not as fit as I’d like to think. That or I was using too much air to hum. I’d rather the latter honestly.

At the top I look back down at the beach, at the cool blue waves. It really is a haven in the Summer Court sometimes. I sometimes wished I could stop time and just enjoy where I was a little longer, I definitely wish I could recreate a place like this, visit whenever I like and just rest. Though maybe later in the day, midday is way too hot. Cloudless sky with a hot ball of fire just glaring down at you, not great. And I’m moon pale, one of these days I’ll be lobster red and wincing at every muscle movement as I apply aloe verra to my burned, tight skin. Honestly I’m not even sure if Tarquin burns, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. I wouldn’t be surprised if no Summer Court citizen had ever burned in their lives.

The swallow chirps, hopping a few times and drawing my attention. Curious I look at it, watching as it flies off my shoulder and onto a familiar one. With a start I realize the little bird landed on Tarquin’s shoulder. Tarquin was here. What was he doing here? Did he see anything?

The High Lord chuckles quietly, petting the bird a few times before turning to me.

“Afternoon, Gyn. How was your practice? I’m hoping you thought it went well.”

His smile is gentle, something akin to a soft breeze or a quiet sunrise. I almost feel stupidly tense, like why am I so tense about him knowing anything? But another small part of me is restless and anxious, demanding to know how much he’s seen and knows. Still, I don’t want to make it seem like I don’t trust him, that could hurt or insult him and he’s been nothing but kind and understanding. Really this fear is probably for nothing. But it’s not quick to go away and I only barely make myself look less upset.

“It went well..I’m making progress. I-” I pause slightly, swallowing my words and briefly looking away at the grass. “I don’t want to sound rude, or defensive..but what are you doing here? I thought you would be busy in Adriata till dinner.”

There’s another quiet chuckle.

“You don’t, you’re being reasonable. I wasn’t as busy as expected today, and I had some free time. So I decided to try and find you, and wouldn’t you know it, you found the glowing beach.”

“The glowing beach?”

“Yes, me and my cousins would come down here at night sometimes to swim or have some fun. Usually we had to sneak out, but it was fun and beautiful. It was like our own secret place that only we knew about. And here you are, practicing here. You picked an excellent spot. If I was anyone else I probably wouldn’t have found you.”

My eyes widen a little, drifting to look at the beach again. I can almost imagine a teen version of himself, Cresseida, and Varian just running down the path towards the waters, diving in and later dancing and singing around in the sand, probably bringing bottles of alcohol and getting drunk. The thought makes me hum, I almost smile.

“Yeah…I don’t want to..ruin any good moods, but how much did you see? It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s more that I just- I…I don’t want you to be afraid of me or concerned everytime I try to use my abilities.”

He’s silent for a moment, timid breezes attempt to fill in the emptyness. The swallow chirps occasionally, Tarquin petting it he while thinks, considering something. My gut tightens, my fingers curling into my hands to create tight fists that turn my knuckles white. My eyes flick from sand, to grass, to sky. Why do I feel like a child caught breaking a rule, about to be scolded by a too calm parent?

“I..saw everything, or at least what I think is most of what you were doing. The claws, this cute little bird.” Somehow, I’m sure my heart has plummeted into my stomach. Tarquin seems to notice, my face must really love to tattle my emotions. But he moves closer, a little bit like he doesn’t want to startle me, or make me uncomfortable. He stops a foot away, maybe closer.

“But I’m not scared of you. I’m not sure I could be. Concerned..a bit yes. I don’t want you hurting yourself just to try and perfect what you could do in the past again. And whose teeth were those?”

My gut loosens, some burning following, but it’s better than a tight coil and a wish to disappear to avoid a possible negative reaction. My fingers uncurl and stretch or flex a few times, my nails leaving little moons in my palm, none bleeding thankfully.

“Mine. It didn’t hurt, I just had them fall out and replaced with new teeth. None of what I was doing was painful, it was just a little tiring to make the swallow..I’m sorry I was defensive before. I wanted to master a few things before showing you, that way you’d worry less.”

“It’s fine, Gyn. I should apologize too, I knew you wanted privacy, but I still came here and watched, unbeknownst to you. But I’m not afraid, and I can trust that you won’t..permanently hurt yourself.”

I’m the one that stays quiet this time. I don’t really believe it’s necessary for me to see if he’s lying, but I scan his face anyways, eyes darting around for any tells that weren’t there. I sigh a little, nodding. I’m relieved about his obvious honesty, but still a little tense about being found and observed without my knowledge. I’m going to have to focus on sight next time, sensing any life nearby. There are plenty of silent or illusive creatures at home, I used to almost constantly make sure that every sense was heightened enough to sense each and every living thing, yet make sure I wasn’t overwhelmed by it.

With a sigh I turn, starting to walk. “We should head back to Adriata. Can’t have everyone worrying over a lost High Lord, can we?”

Tarquin smiles, a bit tightly, jogging to catch up, but keeping a steady pace once he was beside me. We both fall into a comfortable silence as we head towards the golden city.

Achlys

The Forest House may be mostly underground, but it’s beautiful. Inside it’s warm and decorated in reds, oranges, and golds. Portraits and paintings hang neatly on the walls, serious and cruel faces staring down at any passer by. I almost smile.

Servants work away in hallways and rooms, cleaning and keeping their heads down. Sentries silently stand at doorways or move to their next station, staring me down as if they’re ready to kill me if I give them any reason.

Sighing softly I look ahead, Fenix is leading me to the throne room, presumably. He seemed rather annoyed that his brother found out about me and took interest. So much so that he’s asked that I meet him, tell him a little bit about why I was found in his lands.

Naturally I don’t believe for a second that he really sees me as anything more than a potential pawn or a threat that he needs to get rid of, and considering that no Court but Winter would know about us, he wouldn’t need to worry about being discreet.

Everything about Autumn is about cunning and power. Even centuries back, I can still remember Regus Vanserra. Quite intelligent that one. He was the fourth son, it was unlikely in the first place that he would become the High Lord. But he waited patiently for years pretending to be nothing but a social prince with no interest in becoming anything more. Behind his parents and brothers backs he plotted though, forming alliances with Gyn, Boreas, Esord, and Nytarur. The heirs he knew would be the next generation of High Sovereigns, and ones he did not want to make enemies of. Regus played the long game, slowly poisoning his eldest brother and Father, training to kill the rest of his brothers when the time came. And he was successful. He made his eldest brother and Father’s deaths look like heart problems, and the other two brothers died in hunting ‘accidents’. He took the title and became quite the High Lord. Part of me was glad he decided to ally with Gyn, because then we weren’t his enemies.

I’m sure that any descendant of Regus is cunning and especially good at tricking others, weaving them a web of lies that they get trapped in but leaves him unharmed. I’ll bet Gyn would agree, she was in Prythian a lot longer than me, she got to see the generation after us. And apples don’t really fall far from the trees.

Fenix and his four guards stop at a pair of well carved oak doors with golden handles and a depiction of the Autumn forest and five of the past High Lords, Regus, his father and grandfather, and who I am guessing are his son and grandson. Everyone waits for a moment, quietly standing a foot from the doors. Then they open, groaning a little as they move. Our little group moves inside, my senses are assaulted by the smell of cinnamon and something smokey. At the head of the room, sitting on the cushioned stone throne, is a male with Autumn’s infamous red hair and eyes coloured amber. He doesn’t smile or sneer when we enter, merely keeping a cool, calm face as he watches us. Around his head sits a gold crown crafted to appear like flames resting on his head. So this is today’s High Lord. He’s dressed well with colours that compliment him and jewels that match, but not too much of anything, a perfect balance that doesn’t feel obnoxious.

Our little group moves until we’ve made it just past halfway in the room. The guards salute and Fenix offers the High Lord a bow, though it’s more mockery than an actual sign of respect or acknowledgement of power. I wait for after everyone’s finished to bow myself, smiling a little. The High Lord raises a brow.

“So this is the male you found..what is your name and why were you found in my Court?”

He’s good at his acting, I’ll give him that. His tone is careful, a planned boredom. His eyes hold a steely ice that was carefully crafted probably over a matter of years. I know for a fact that the entire Court buys every look, every word. It’s just a pity that I was surrounded masks for so long it became easy to learn when one was using it, unless someone was an exceptional liar. I’ve only met few who were able to fool me. Gyn, Cosmas, and a mortal King that ruled while I was in my 200s. No one ever knew when Cosmas was being truthful, it felt like a gamble every time I talked to him. And Gyn is as careful as I am, picking up on others emotions and anything we can learn about others and then using that information to our advantage. I just didn’t expect her to use the information against me, it was fine since I got her back a century later.

I grin at the High Lord. This could be fun.

“Achlys. I had a jealous coward for a cousin who used an ancient prison to contain me, throwing me into a cave in this Court. Don’t worry, High Lord, I’m only a temporary guest.”

He’s quiet for a moment, digesting the information and deciding what to do. It’s not every day something like this happens afterall.

“Which Court are you from? I’m sure your High Lord would have no issue collecting you.”

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me at the question. Fenix doesn’t really react, just a bit of tensing around the shoulders. The guards keep still, but a few glance nervously at me. Either they’re nervous because of my chuckle, or they think I just tried to ensure my death.

“I don’t you’d be able to. Besides, those of my Court are incredibly picky about which apples they like to keep on the tree. I’m sure I’ll only be here another month and I’ll be out of your hair.”

The High Lord narrows his eyes, hiding the curiosity and covering it with annoyance.

“And why won’t I be able to contact this Court of yours, hm?”

“Well Prythian has forgotten about my home. My Court is mere legend in your history books, if we haven’t been erased entirely. It is not found in Prythian, nor any other continent. We call it the End Court.”

There’s a glimmer in his eyes, something like…recognition. My own mask slips on, keeping the amused face and uncaring attitude. But why does he seem familiar with the name? The Court hasn’t been in contact with Prythian in centuries, but he knows of it. It would appear that I rang a bell and I didn’t know he could hear it. I’m curious about how much he actually knows.

“Achlys of the End Court..an interesting claim. And how am I to trust that you aren’t insane or attempting to deceive my Court?”

“I’m sure you can find records. We made deals and alliances with this Court multiple times. Though, I suppose I wouldn’t be surprised if those records were burned a long time ago. You have to admit though. My prison is nothing like what you’ve seen in Prythian.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Because I’m well traveled. Not even the Night Court has the metal needed to create such a thing. And most of the prisons here aren’t just enchanted large cubes that act as a power numbing cell, they’re made of stone and have multiple cells, multiple inmates, less chains, and usually more light.”

He hums, leaning back slightly on his throne.

“What else is there to tell me? Are there more prisons like this around Prythian?”

Should I tell him? With them outside Autumn they aren’t within his reach. However, that if they’ve already been found by now, he could already know about them. Every Court has their spies, keeping their High Lord well informed of everything. Instead of answering I stay quiet, raising a brow and keeping an amused face. I’m sure you already know, High Lord.

He grunts, practically confirming my theory. They’ve been found, and he knows exactly where they are. I’m sure he sent out spies the second I was found, I don’t doubt he knew of me then and got Fenix to confess of my existence, thus giving him a chance to get a closer look and attempt to give me a role.

“I’ll let you stay, however you’re under my rule here until you return home.Till the day you leave, your loyalty is to me.”

It’s a fair deal, and I wouldn’t want to cause issues for my family by causing nothing but chaos here. Naturally there a few things that I won’t do if asked and I’ll always put my family first, but for now I can play along. My siblings wouldn’t be too impressed if I started a war the moment I was freed.

“Very well..”

“Expect to summoned during the week and that you’ll join every meal while having at least two sentries watching you at all times. I don’t think I want to let a wild hound loose in the Court.”

I almost snort, I’m being compared to a dog now. Wonderful. But I’d expect nothing less of a Vanserra. First Fenix with his condescending eyes, always trying to sneer at me as if I was mud on his new boots. Now a High Lord yet to see me as anything other than a mosquito. Patience is a virtue and I can exorcise it.

If he’s expecting a response I don’t give him one. My face has gone to a neutral, just watching him. He stares back, subtly studying me. Once he’s satisified, he returns to the bored mask.

“You’re dismissed. Leave.”

He waves a hand and we all turn, this time with me at the head. Fenix lets out a low growl, not happy with the meeting or me being ahead of him. The doors open again, letting us leave and walk back into the hallway. Subconciously I lead the way, heading straight to my room at my regular pace, which the guards and Fenix scramble to keep up with. Fenix hisses, grabbing my arm and yanking. I don’t stop, but I look over my shoulder at the angry male.

“You walk behind me. Don’t think for a second that you have any power in this Court. You are nothing but a tool for me to use, do not think otherwise.”

I almost scoff, raising a brow at him before shrugging him off.

“I don’t like slow walkers. And I’m heading to my room anyways, calm down.”

The Autumn prince snarls a curse and snaps his fingers, two guards grabbing onto my arms and yanking me backwards. Hissing, I almost go to kick one of them. Fenix walks in front now, motioning for them to follow. Both guards kick my legs, forcing me to my knees, before walking, dragging me with them. A little rude of them. Clicking my tongue I stand again, matching the pace of the guards, who glare and attempt to kick my legs out again. It fails when I move quick enough to dodge and then on at a time.

The one on my right snarls, punching me in the gut. I cough a little, but stay standing. Fenix stops at a door, pulling it open and walking outside into a courtyard..of sorts. Sentries off duty train with wooden and metal swords, sparring or beating a punching bag like it killed their spouse and owes them money. In the center though, is a post. One with several metals loops attached, like something you would tie a rope through or hook something to. Fenix tosses a pair of cuffs to the guards, the left one catching it and snapping one around one of my wrists.

Ah..I see where this is going. Either way at least some of my blood is spilled. I’m either going to be flogged or I’ll be mobbed. Of the two, I would prefer the former. Less broken bones, typically only one area is targeted. Not like Fenix really cares, he’s just trying to teach me a lesson, make me fear or respect him to any degree.

The training sentries go quiet and stop whatever they’re doing to watch as I’m pulled towards the post. I don’t bother fighting much, there’s over a dozen men here, all with weapons on them. Normally I would use this against them. However, I don’t need to piss of a High Lord that controls fire by killing everyone here. Nor do I want to exhaust myself by using my powers that much right now. The guards are quick to loop the remaining cuff through a large loop and snap it around my remaining wrist, forcing me down on my knees and tearing the back of my shirt afterwards. Both snicker as they back away. Glancing quickly behind me I can see Fenix choosing a whip and calling a large male over, handing him the whip. I think it’s leather with some sort of dust on it. The Autumn prince looks at me, almost smug but burying it in time.

“A mutt like you needs to learn quickly that you’re nothing here and will remain that way. No disrepect will ever be tolerated. 50 lashes.”

I almost roll my eyes but I brace myself anyways. Gyn isn’t here to act as my healer, this is going to hurt since I still feel pain. I can hear the whip unravel, some anxiety builds. This isn’t the first time this has happened, it’s not the first time I’ve been punished using whips or tools specially made to counter High Fae’s instant healing. Doesn’t mean I enjoyed any of it though.

There’s a quiet swish before the whip strikes my bare back, a fiery sting following quickly after. Fenix knows what he’s doing, he makes the whipper wait a moment before another strike. I wonder if this will scar permanently or if Gyn can return my skin to normal, even when healed. I wonder briefly if either of my siblings have to face something like this, and I pray to the Cauldron they don’t have to. I keep still as they continue to strike my back, thankfully not hitting the same spot twice, but I can feel warm blood trickling down my back and sticking to what remains of my shirt, gluing it to my skin. My abilities numbed a while ago, around lash number 10. They must coat the whips in faebane for maximum pain and scarring then.

At 40 lashes my punishment is interrupted by the arrival of another Vanserra, one of Fenix’s brothers. At least I think that’s who he is. His hair is long and red, eyes brown with a cunning, almost morbidly curious look in them. He watches me for a moment before moving to stand next to Fenix, who looks rather annoyed by the interruption.

“What do you want? I’m busy at the moment.”

“I heard something was going on in the Sentry Courtyard, so I decided I would come and see what all the commotion was about. What is this exactly? A misbehaving servant?”

Fenix is quiet for a moment, glaring down at me.

“Yes..that’s exactly what this is.”

“Really? I thought he was Eris’s guest. I don’t think he’d be impressed to find out you’ve taken a whip to his back. He might take one to your back.”

Fenix’s scowl deepens, disgust grows like a mold in his eyes. He snatches the whip from the sentry’s hands, pulling his arm back and swinging it forward with most if not all his strength. The whip strikes my back swiftly, leaving a fresh, wretched pain and trail of blood in its wake. I hiss at the feeling, fire spreading once again with a ferocious sting.

“He’s not a guest.”

His words are filled with venom, enough that I’m gritting my teeth and leaning my head on my arms. Mother save me, this isn’t going to end that quickly. Mentally I sigh, of all places I get sent to Autumn. I’m really feeling like I’m fucked.

~~~

Thanks for reading, feel free to give feedback. Enjoy your day/night.

~~~

You can find this fanfiction on Quotev and AO3. On Quotev I go by Ciar, on AO3 I go by Gyra (they're different because some names are already taken).

OKAY YOU ATE THIS UPPPPPPP I LOVE THIS SERIES SM. like i kid u not imo this is one of THE best written eris fics there is out there. love it and love U AUTHOR THANKS FOR WRITING THIS

chapter xxii – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 5,000+

masterlist

Y/N spent the next three weeks hiding in her workroom, making various potions and charms and candles – and anything else that would help the human women and children who now had sanctuary in the Forest House. Many of them could not sleep due to nightmares or anxiety, feeling like they were still in danger. Others had other mental hurdles that prevented them from even finding the will to live.

So, Y/N had been working day and night, casting remedies for it all with her witchcraft. 

She had barely been sleeping. Even worse, she was barely eating. 

Servants would politely knock on her door and silently bring her giant plates of food for every meal – and even small plates of snacks. But as soon as they left, Y/N would forget the food was ever brought in the first place. She would just get sucked right back into working. 

But the humans weren’t the only thing haunting her. 

Y/N hadn’t seen Eris since her confession in the woods. 

Surprisingly, it was because he had respected her request to give them space. 

But she heard the people of the Forest House, and they gossiped in whispers.

Eris had apparently been working himself to exhaustion, visiting various villages across Autumn Court, speaking with the common folk, and delegating tasks to his advisors. 

The wind constantly urged Y/N to go to him. But she managed to ignore their constant torment. 

Y/N now worked on making a tea for the young humans who were anxious as ever, despite now being safe in Autumn Court. She understood that the fae realm was strange and scary – especially after their first exposure to the realm was nothing but torture. 

Suddenly, the door to her workshop was thrown open. 

The five bloodhounds napping near it jumped to attention and growled menacingly. 

Lucien came strutting in, clearly on some sort of mission. 

The dogs snarled at his interruption and lunged for him.

And if it weren’t for the invisible shield Lucien had clearly conjured with a lazy flick of his wrist, his ankles surely would’ve been torn apart by their jaws. 

Y/N quickly looked back down at her work, not even acknowledging his entrance.

“I’m busy,” she muttered with obvious annoyance. 

“Well, now…” Lucien announced as he got into her space, forcing her to address his presence. “You are taking a break.” 

He stood against her worktable, blocking Y/N from continuing her brewing. 

“Lucien, I do not have the mental energy to deal with your antics today. I have work to do.”

“And it will be here when we return. But for now, you are going on a walk in the woods with me.” 

Y/N crossed her arms. “Can’t you find some pretty courtier to entertain you?”

Lucien smirked. “But spending time with a woman who finds me irritating is so much more exciting.” Then his face turned serious as he studied her face, noting the shadows under her bloodshot eyes. “Come, Y/N. You haven’t left this room in weeks. The servants say you ignore every meal they bring you. And Eris…”

He stopped when he noticed her reaction from someone merely mentioning his brothers name.

“Well, we don’t need to talk about him right now,” he finally finished. 

Y/N sighed, and then glanced outside.

When was the last time she’d left the walls of the Forest House? Perhaps some fresh air would do her good. And then she could get back to her work. 

“Fine,” she snapped. “But the hounds are coming with and I don’t care if they bite you.”

All she could hear was Lucien chuckling behind her as she walked out of the workroom. 

———

Lucien had insisted on Y/N wearing a cloak, but couldn’t convince her to put on boots – or any shoes for that matter. 

“What’s the point of a walk if you can’t feel the ground beneath your feet?” Y/N scoffed at him. 

“If you get frostbite and lose a toe, Eris will kill me…” Lucien muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear him. 

To Y/N’s surprise, Lucien allowed a peaceful silence to settle between the two of them as they walked through the forest surrounding the property. 

No guards insisted on joining them, so they must be safe enough to be unchaperoned.

However, they still had five smoke hounds surrounding them. They now sniffed the ground with precision, never straying too far from Y/N. Every so often, they would trot up to her, asking for pets or licking her hand.

“You know, they eventually will learn how to live again and without fear.” Lucien told her gently after some time. 

Y/N just sighed. 

“Humans are stronger than most fae give them credit for. They’re resilient and overcome such terrible things. They have to. Their lives are fleeting, to do otherwise would be a waste of a short and fragile life.” 

Y/N glared at him. “Our lives,” she corrected. “Our lives are fleeting.” 

Lucien watched her carefully. 

“I see Eris told you of our last conversation…” she mumbled with irritation. 

“Well, I had to force it out of him after he started snapping at everyone who dared look at him for longer than a second.” He looked Y/N up and down. “Believe it or not, he looks worse than you do.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, you are always so kind, Lucien.”

“When did you start to think so little of yourself?” He countered. 

“E-Excuse me?” 

“Do you really think Eris cares about you being a mortal or without noble blood? I thought you of all people could see through his mask and see him for who is truly is. And does that really seem like a concern that would prevent him from loving you?” 

“Do you hear how advisors and envoys from other Courts speak of Feyre? To them she is an ignorant child. Hardly unhuman. She still is learning so much about the ways of the fae.” 

Lucien scoffed. “Only a fool would underestimate Feyre. She is the only reason we were freed from our curse. And she may also be the only reason we won the war against Hybern.”

Y/N stopped walking. “Why is Feyre a High Lady? She is the only female with such a title. Your mother is only the Lady of Autumn.” 

“Because Rhysand wanted an equal. He values his mate's opinion and ethics – as he should. He is progressive in a way most fae will fail to ever understand. Could you imagine Beron Vanserra seeing my mother as anything more than his breeder?” 

Y/N said nothing, but openly cringed at the word 'breeder.'

“And dare I say…if you truly believed yourself so undeserving of a similar title, then why do you hide away in the libraries of the Forest House, learning everything you can of Autumn Court and the politics of the fae realm?” 

Y/N glared at him. “I do not wish to be ignorant.”

Lucien smirked knowingly. “Aye. That is precisely my point.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Why are you so invested in our relationship, Lucien? Recently, you have inserted yourself in a way that you have usually avoided in the past.” 

Any mischievous expression that was left on his face had disappeared. He frowned and his eyes held sympathy. 

“I believe my time here in the Autumn Court is coming to a close.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened. “W-W-What? Why?” 

“Yes, my banishment has been lifted. But this place holds far too many bad memories. My nightmares are filled with them. I don’t think I was ever meant to return. I feel as if I was never meant to be in this Court at all...” 

“B-But where will you go? Back to Night Court?”

“Most likely. Being away from my mate – despite her ignoring my existence – starts to take a toll on me.”

“You ache for her?” Y/N asked him gently. 

Lucien blushed and hesitated before he finally nodded. 

“Well, who will I make fun of and torment?” Y/N teased. 

But before she could answer, a noise caught her attention. 

Y/N held up her hand, signaling for Lucien to also listen. Which was silly, his fae hearing had picked it up long before she had. 

“It is just a fox cry,” Lucien pointed out. 

Then a small wind passed through and he knew she wasn’t listening to him. 

“Not just a fox cry,” Y/N answered and started to follow the sound. 

Then she suddenly remembered the smoke hounds that were surrounding them. 

Y/N whistled to get their attention. And they whipped around to face her, waiting for her next command. 

“Stay with Lucien,” she ordered them gently. “And don’t bite him.”

They all started whining, not liking her to go anywhere without them being able to follow. 

Y/N rushed forward following invisible directions. 

She didn’t stop until she found the source of the noise. And just around a cluster of trees, she found it.

A red fox kit, shivering underneath the trunk of a giant oak tree. 

Y/N rushed forward, but then slowed when she just a few feet away. 

The kit eyed her, still shaking from the cold and probably fear. 

“Y/N, don’t touch it.” Lucien called out, having followed her a few steps behind, with the smoke hounds at his heels. 

Y/N ignored him and kneeled in front of the kit. “Hello there. No need to be afraid. I won't hurt you.” 

“Its mother will come back for it,” Lucien tried to tell her. 

Then a gust of wind passed through, shaking the dry leaves like a chorus. 

“No, it’s all alone,” Y/N called over her shoulder to him. Clearly, the wind had told her. “His mother was killed by hunters. He’s been here for days, waiting for her.” 

She turned back to the kit. “Come on, little one. I will look after you. I know those dogs over there seem big and scary, but I won’t let them harm you.” 

The kit let out a little whimper. 

“I know you want your mama. But she isn’t coming back. I’m so sorry. But I will keep you safe.” 

Then the kit shakily walked toward Y/N. 

As he did, she took off her cloak, preparing to wrap up the shivering fox in it. 

“What shall we name you?” Y/N asked the kit gently, as she stood with it wrapped cozily in her arms.

The wind brushed through her hair, and Y/N giggled at what they said. “The wind thinks we should call you Ronan. How does that sound?”

The kit squeaked out a happy noise. 

“Ronan it is then,” Y/N answered back with a smile. 

But when she turned to walk back to the others, Lucien was staring at her strangely. 

“What? What is it?” 

Lucien blinked, snapping himself out of it. “Nothing. It is only…there was once a tradition in Autumn Court. High Lords would gift their Lady of Autumn a fox kit to raise. Obviously the tradition hasn’t been practiced since before Beron’s time.” 

“O-Ohh,” Y/N managed to stutter out. 

What was he trying to say?

“Foxes are sacred animals in this Court,” Lucien continued. “Though they are tricky to tame, once you do, they are fiercely loyal creatures.”

“So why are you looking at me like that?” She asked. 

“The Cauldron works in mysterious ways,” was all he would give her. “Come. Let us get our new friend home.” 

Ronan almost instantly fell asleep as Y/N carried him to the Forest House. The kit already trusted her to keep him safe. 

Y/N started muttering to him as they entered the gates. “We will get you the softest bed. And I will feed you fresh fruit and I’ll sneak the best cuts of meats for you. You will be spoiled rotten, Ronan.”

“Motherly instinct has already kicked in, has it?” Lucien teased. 

But he didn’t expect for her entire body to stiffen. 

“I have no desire to be a mother,” she answered darkly before she could stop herself. 

That was when Lucien put together a whole different argument for Y/N forcing distance between her and Eris. 

His posture straightened and his mouth opened slightly. Without thinking, he blurted out. “You are worried about an heir.”

It didn’t come out as a question; it was a statement. 

Lucien now looked at her as if he could read her very mind, like a daemati. He could see every one of her fears on display. And she just stood their, as vulnerable as ever. 

Before Y/N could defend herself or come up with some blatant lie, the guards around them stood at attention and turned to face the direction of the Forest House’s main entrace. And they bowed slightly. 

Eris stood at the open door, watching the two of them. 

It was the first time he and Y/N had seen each other since the lake. 

And the two of them couldn’t take their eyes off one another. Their gazes locked. 

“Leave us,” Eris gently commanded without looking away. 

All Y/N could do was hear the shuffling of armor as Lucien and his guards quickly made their escape from the front courtyard, leaving her with the male she had been trying to avoid for the past few weeks. 

“And who is this?” Eris finally broke the silence, pointing to the fox.

Y/N clutched the kit tighter. “This is Ronan.” 

Eris didn’t question her further. Instead he blindsided her with a subject change. “You haven’t been eating.”

She blinked in confusion, then recovered by glaring at him. 

“I have respected your wishes to keep my distance these past few weeks,” Eris continued. “But when my guards and servants say you have not been eating nor sleeping, I will ignore such a request.”

“I am fine,” Y/N defied him. 

Eris lifted a brow, challenging her. 

But she was too tired to pick a fight. 

“Come,” Eris gestured behind him toward the Forest House. 

And she begrudgingly followed. 

The two of them didn’t speak as they walked down the winding halls. 

Eris didn’t stop until they were in the grand banquet hall. 

There was a feast already prepared on the table. It could’ve fed a royal party. But there were only two dining chairs set at the long table. 

“This is far too much food,” Y/N muttered. 

“Yes, so you will not have the excuse of disliking the options,” he countered. 

And before she could say anything else, he added, “None of it will go to waste. Whatever you don’t eat will be shared with others.” 

For good measure, he sent her warning look and pointed at a chair. “Sit, Y/N. And eat.” 

Y/N knew there was no use arguing about this. And the smell of the food alone made her realize how hungry she was. Her stomach ached from the emptiness. 

She slowly sat with Ronan in her lap, who was fast asleep. 

“And are you here to simply watch me?” Y/N asked Eris. 

“No, I’m joining you.” He answered as he pulled out the other chair. 

Y/N listened to her stomach and grabbed a few things that seemed appetizing, but also would give her fuel to continue working rigorously. 

As if Eris knew she was already thinking about getting back to work, he commented. “The humans are in good health. I have my finest soldiers guarding them at all times. I even sent some of the hounds there to play with the children.” 

“I know,” Y/N mumbled. Her eyes flickered up to his. “I know you will not let any harm come to them while they are here.” 

He blinked. “Then why will you not rest?” 

“If I can keep helping them, then I must.” 

Eris sighed. “I am not telling you to stop. I am asking that you find balance. You will be helping no one if you are not taking care of yourself. Eating consistent meals and getting a full night’s rest is part of that.” 

“I know,” Y/N repeated quietly. 

Eris seemed taken aback by her submission. He was fully prepared for her to spend the whole meal arguing with him. But it only proved how exhausted she must be. 

Without allowing himself to think of stopping, Eris’ hand reached toward Y/N’s face and cupped her cheek so gently. 

“Please, talk to me.” 

His words were pleading. His eyes desperate. 

Her eyes teared up, but she blinked to control her emotions. “I-I-I’m just tired.”

“Yes, I know.” Eris agreed, but his look indicated that it was obvious there was something more than her general exhaustion. 

“I do not like being away from you,” Y/N finally admitted quietly. “But I know it is what we must do.” 

If she was less tired, she would never have allowed herself to speak such words. 

Eris sighed and finally leaned back in his chair, dropping his hand from her cheek. “What I must do to convince you that it isn’t?” 

But Y/N just shook her head, quietly begging him not to have this conversation right now. 

As if sensing her turmoil, Ronan woke up startled. Then he took in Eris and growled as menacingly as a little, helpless kit could. 

Y/N giggled as the ridiculousness of it brought her out of her gutter of emotions and cut the tension that had been building. 

“Hush. None of that,” Y/N laughed before kissing the top of Ronan’s head. 

Eris gave her a look, silently asking, ‘Are you going to explain this to me now?’

“I found him in the woods,” her voice sad as she explained. “His mother was killed by hunters. I’m going to look after him now.” 

“You have a kind heart, Y/N.” Eris explain softly. “Any in need within your reach, you help. But when will you allow others to do the same for you?” 

She couldn’t answer such a question. Instead, she stroked Ronan’s head and went back to eating. 

The two ate in silence for the rest of the meal. 

Eris didn’t stop eating until Y/N did, not wanting to give her a reason for finishing before she was actually full. 

“I am sorry,” Y/N told him. 

He gave her a questioning look. 

“For worrying you.” 

He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I will always be worried about you, Y/N.” 

And they both heard the unsaid possibilities with such words.

If she were to truly leave Autumn Court and Prythian altogether, how much sleep would Eris lose worrying about his mate being away from him, living a life without him? Could someone worry themselves so sick that they left the living completely?

“Come,” Eris stood and walked behind her chair to pull it out. “I will walk you to your bedroom.”

Silence once again settled between them. 

But any time Eris got somewhat close to Y/N, Ronan would give him a warning growl. Clearly it hardly took any time for the little fox to grow attached to Y/N – and protective. 

“Now I know how Lucien feels with my smoke hounds…” Eris muttered with a smirk. 

“You don’t mind that I’ve taken him in?” Y/N finally asked. 

“If it will make you happy, you could take on a dragon as a pet. However, it is not all that unusual for the ladies of this Court to take foxes as companions.”

“So I’ve heard…”

Eris nodded. “Did you learn that from your reading or from my loudmouthed brother?”

Y/N smiled. “The latter. He said the Cauldron worked in mysterious ways...but didn't elaborate." 

His face turned serious. “Yes, it does.” 

They were at he bedchambers just a moment later. 

Eris stalled. “Goodnight, Y/N. Do try and get some rest tonight.” 

—🍁—🍁—

Y/N shot up in bed, gasping for breath from a nightmare. 

She was covered in sweat and had even soaked her nightgown, as well as the bedding. 

Then she looked around and immediately found another reason for it: the fire at the other end of the room was roaring and none of the windows were open. 

Strange. She always opened all of them before going to sleep. 

No wonder she had sweat through everything, her room was like an oven. And the wind that comforted her every night while she slept had been kept out. 

But then images of her nightmare flashed in her mind.

Her sister, eyes staring lifelessly up at the full-moon sky. Her dead child in her arms along with her. 

Y/N had repressed the memory for so long, hardly allowing herself to think of her sister.

But Lucien bringing up motherhood and heirs earlier that day must have unlocked it from deep within her subconscious. 

She shook her head as if the movement would erase the memories. 

Then she slowly got out of bed to open the windows.

But as soon as she would swing one open, the wind would slam it shut. 

Y/N glared at the gesture. “What are you playing at?” 

She tried another window, and the wind did the same. 

“Do you wish for me to roast alive?” 

But the wind was not taking her sass.

Suddenly, a tornado-like gust flew into the room, whipping all the windows open. 

“Go…to…him.” The wind called. “Do…not…be…alone.”

Then the windows all slammed shut in unison. 

It should’ve made Y/N jump, but she'd grown accustomed to their dramatics. 

And they were right: she didn’t want to be alone. And she definitely didn’t want to try to go back to sleep, fearing that she’d see more of her sister’s cold, dead body. 

Forgoing a shawl or robe, Y/N tiptoed down the halls. 

When she reached her destination, her fist hovered over the door. 

But before she could knock, the door flung open. 

“Oh,” Y/N gasped. “I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bothering you.”

There stood Eris, looking somewhat alarmed. He was shirtless, only wearing sleep shorts that stopped midway down his thighs. His hair was slightly messy, proving that he had been sleeping at some point – or at least trying to.  

“What’s wrong?” Eris asked. 

“Did you know it was me at the door?”

“Of course. I can smell you,” he explained as if it were obvious. 

Eris could also feel her in his heart and his soul. She was his mate, after all. But he kept that bit to himself.

“Right,” she answered, feeling stupid for even asking. 

He took a step closer to her. “Y/N, are you alright?” 

“Yes, I’m fine.” Her answer hurried out, not wanting to alarm him. “It was just…I had a nightmare. A-A-And the wind is being cruel, making my room far too hot.”

But she quickly shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said once again. “I shouldn’t have woken you.”

She tried to make her escape, turning to leave.

Then she was suddenly being scooped up into Eris’ arms. 

She squeaked in surprise and her arms gripped his shoulders by instinct. 

He carried her fully into his bedchambers and kicked the door closed behind him. 

“Eris, put me down!” But her voice was anything but stern. 

“No.” 

Then they were in his bedroom. And though it was nighttime, the moon still clearly displayed the giant windows taking up an entire wall. And they were all open, letting in the brisk night air. 

‘Traitors,’ Y/N thought to herself. 

Then Y/N realized that she’d never been in Eris' room before. Well, she stayed in his old room. But this was clearly a chamber for a High Lord, and it showed. 

“This is unnecessary…” she groaned when Eris walked toward the giant bed. 

He ignored her, of course, and gently placed her on the side of his bed. 

Y/N expected him to jump right in along with her. But instead he took a step back and kneeled in front of her, forearms balancing on his knees. 

“You have two choices: you can either tell me about your nightmare or you can keep it to yourself. But either way, I am sleeping in this bed beside you. Is that understood?”

Y/N was taken aback by his calm, yet unmoving, authority. 

Realizing that he was expecting some sort of response, all she could mange was a stiff nod. 

He waited a few moments to see if she would speak. 

Instead, Y/N laid down in his bed, turning so her back faced him and pulled the covers high over her shoulders. 

Eris sighed and stood, walking over to the other side of the bed. 

He slowly and carefully joined her under the covers, making sure to keep a respectable distance between them. Which was fairly easy with how large the bed was. 

He settled on his side, watching Y/N as she got lost in her head. 

When he stopped moving, the room was filled with the crackling of the fire in the room that was much lower and calmer than the one in Y/N’s room. 

A rumbling of thunder started in the distance and rain began to fall outside. 

“I dreamt of my sister,” Y/N whispered. 

Eris just waited, silently hoping his mate would keep speaking. 

“She died in childbirth.”

He shifted ever so closer. “I thought your entire coven was killed by a nearby village.”

“They were,” Y/N muttered. “This was only a year before that. She had fallen in love with man from the village before the one that slaughtered us. He was smitten…but he did not love her the same way she loved him. Men were not common companions of ours. They either feared us – or wished to tame us and rip us away from our coven to take us for themselves.”

Her eyes glazed over at the memory. 

“She thought he would travel with us, that she could have a family and her coven. It only took a couple of months before she was with child. But just weeks before the baby was due, there were complications and she went into labor. And even with a whole coven of magic, we couldn’t save her. They said that the man had cursed her – whether he realized it or not – and the magic was too strong to save her. He wasn’t even there when it happened."

Her voice shook as she finished. "I held my sister’s hand as the life left her body. Her baby didn’t survive.”

Tears dripped down Y/N’s face. 

“We had a ceremony for her... and he didn't come. It was like he had never met her at all. He took what he wanted, and didn’t mourn my sister. But he was the only reason she was dead.” 

Y/N rubbed the tears from her face. 

“What was her name?” Eris asked her gently. 

A sad smile pulled at her lips. “Neve. Her name was Neve.”

Eris couldn’t help himself any longer. He pulled Y/N to him, cradling her into his warm chest. 

He kissed the top of her head before he whispered in her ear. “I am sorry that you lost her – and in such a manner.” 

“I thought I was so alone after she died. But nothing could’ve prepared me for the loneliness when all of them were taken from me.”

Eris’ pupils shrunk as he got a dazed look. “I grew up in a home filled with servants, advisors, courtiers, my brothers. But…” His words died out. Perhaps it was selfish to compare his life to hers. 

But Y/N squeezed him.

“The worst loneliness is felt while surrounded by others,” Y/N offered sympathetically. “Yes, I lost my family, my coven…but to live as you did – and for centuries! I am sorry for you, too.” 

Eris pulled away from her so he could look in her eyes. 

“Y/N, we do not have to be alone anymore.” 

She gave him a pained look. So, Eris wouldn’t push her. 

“At least for tonight,” he corrected slowly. “We will not be.” 

He pulled her into his chest again. “Sleep, Y/N. I will fight your nightmares.” 

And it only took her minutes of listening to the sounds of the rain mix with Eris’ soft breathing and smelling his autumn scent for her to give in to sleep. 

—🍁—🍁—

The next morning, banging at the bedroom door startled Y/N awake. Either Eris had heard the interrupter long before her or he had already been awake for awhile, because he barely reacted to the sound. 

Though with Eris’ magic, no one was permitted to enter without his permission. 

Y/N was sleeping on top of Eris’ chest as he sat with his back against the headboard and his arms wrapped around her. 

“Eris!” Lucien yelled as he continued to bang. “Y/N has gone missing! She was not in her room and she slept through her lessons! No one has seen her in the house all morning!”

Eris and Y/N shared a mischievous look, but still didn’t move away from each other. 

Suddenly, Y/N couldn’t stop herself from falling into a fit of giggles. When Eris smirked down at her, she stopped, moved away from him, and hid under the covers. 

With a groan, Eris got up and moved to the door. 

Even just the subtle action of opening the door was done with clear irritation. “She is fine,” he growled at his youngest brother. 

Lucien looked over his shoulder just in time to see Y/N peak out from the covers, her face clearly hot with embarrassment. 

“Oh, good.” Lucien’s tone was sarcastic, but it was clear he was honestly relieved to see her alright. “Mother wishes to prepare you for the coronation.” 

“W-What?” Y/N stuttered out her confusion as she sat up in bed. 

Lucien glared at his brother. “You didn’t tell her.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “We both know this is an unnecessary spectacle…”

Lucien glared harder, then turned his attention to Y/N. “An official celebration for Eris becoming High Lord. It will be a grand ordeal, I assure you. And my mother was looking for you to get your dress fittings started.” 

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Thank you thank you thank you for being patient with me. Also, thank you to everyone you messaged kind and supportive words. hope this was worth the wait. 😅