Curate, connect, and discover
Chapter 3 is in the works (finally) !! in the meantime, here's a snipet from one of the later few chapters:
Read Chapter 1 and 2 on AO3
“It’s not fair to the both of us.” Tears. Those were tears streaming down her face. “It’s been a century. Beron would never know. It’s for your own good too,” he continued. Oh practical, practical Helion. So different from the male she’s gotten to know. A part of her wants to fall to her knees and beg him for his forgiveness, to stay, and tell him that she was so, so, sorry. But Beron’s cruel face, and the faces of her beautiful children, flashed before her eyes. “Please.” She didn’t know what… or whom she was begging for. She grabbed his arm, one hand lifting up to touch his face, only for him to shake her off. “You have to let me go. Someone will see us.” “I love you.” She choked out. But Helion was already gone. And somehow, she knew this was not another one of their fights, where they’ll make up and slip away in the middle of the night. There will be no more secret touches, inside jokes whispered against her skin. No more glances across the room and arms brushing against each other on the dance floor. There will be no more of Helion Spellcleaver, the only male she has ever truly loved, and who showed her what it meant to be loved.
chapter 2 has been in the works for two months and i didnt really know how to proceed without making the story drag on so i decided to write the part where LoA and Helion broke off their relationship and it's probably still four/five chapters away but WHEN I TELL YOU THAT THERE WILL BE ANGST I MEAN IT. you just have to wait a while for it (give or take a year or two AHAHAHA im only half kidding) because i hurt myself writing that scene.
ITS ABOUT HELION AND LOA!!! IM EXCITED FOR MYSELF
it's a short chapter, 1K words
Summary: Based on Helion's conversation with the IC in ACOWAR, what happened between Helion and Lady of the Autumn court (because ms sarah janet maas takes two years to finish a book and I cannot wait for her big reveal and no one wrote a fic on this so i'm doing it)
Read on AO3
CHAPTER 1: BEFORE THE WAR
“I heard her family wanted internal ties to power, and that they didn’t give her a choice before they sold her to Beron.” - Helion to Mor, ACOWAR
The fire in her blood is her damnation, for she was about to become the Lady of Autumn, the pretty, silent wife to Beron Vanserra.
There was no choice in the matter really, her father needed the political alliance that came from selling his youngest daughter to the cruel High Lord of Autumn. No matter that she was just 20- a child, barely past her first bleed- and Beron was nearly a century old. And war… war was looming, and her parents certainly couldn’t afford for their alliances with the High Lord to drift. She begged her family for more time, to wait just a few years.
-
“I’ll find another High Lord to marry,” she had pleaded on her knees, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. Her father sneered, the room heating with his rage. “What do you know about alliances? To be married to Beron Vanserra, what more could a female like you want?” She flinched. What more could a girl like you want. Love! She wanted to scream. I want to marry the male I love! But what did she know? Her sisters, watching behind a half closed door, looked at her with eyes full of pity and knowing. Knowing, for the male she had met at the equinox ball who had charmed her with his warm smile and bright eyes. The son of the High Lord of the Day Court. Helion Spellcleaver. Her father barely gave his weeping daughter another look before winnowing out of the room. He did not notice the crumpled letter she held in her hands and the unfamiliar necklace hidden beneath her dress. He did not wait for her to reveal the male that has been courting her for almost a year. She threw the letter into the fireplace and weeped. The fire eagerly swallowed up the letter. A declaration of love, a promise turned into ash. - The wedding is a relatively quiet ceremony with just Beron’s most important lords. The commoners would hear of this later, through an official proclamation. It was a relief that no one else would witness her humiliation, though she supposed no one really cared who she was as long as she kept Beron happy.
That was her job now, to keep a high lord happy. To look pretty, have a few children and pray and hope the lord would not tire of her too soon. She supposed there were worst things in the world. Beron’s servants were silent as they prepared her for the wedding, they kept their eyes down, deft hands dressing her without so much as an extra glance for the female marrying their high lord. Perhaps they were glad that with her as Beron’s wife, he would be otherwise occupied, in the bedroom at least.
She was not oblivious to Beron’s temper and the commoners’-- and rest of the court for that matter-- contempt toward Beron. For good reason too, she had heard of how he treated his servant, and how he ensured that people who spoke against him promptly disappeared. The few times she had gone to the countryside were even worse- though she secretly agreed that the farmers’ outright hatred for the lord was justified- they were paid barely more than what it took them to buy their crops, while Beron and other lords in the capital were drowning in finery and wasting the food that should’ve gone to the hungry people.
She was also under no illusion that the lord would grow to feel even an inkling of love for her, knew that she was nothing but a prized breeding mare. She wanted to ask the servant girls how they survived, how she could survive. But as the servants finished putting her hair into twist on her head, the words stuck in her throat. She gave them a thankful nod, and looked in the mirror. She did not recognize who stared back. She was led out by an armed sentry, as she looked back at the servant girls, she was surprised to find that there were tears brimming in their eyes. The girls caught her staring and promptly looked down, expressionless once again. She wondered whether someday she would look like that too.
Suddenly, she couldn’t help but wish that a certain amber eyed male would come a save her.
- She did not remember what happened exactly during the ceremony other than the murmured thanks to the halfhearted congratulations thrown her way. She had been lost in a crowd of lords trying to gain Beron’s favor, the dress making it her for her to disappear back into her room.
Her room.
She did not share a room with the lord, even now that they’re married. Beron had barely spared her a second glance after the crowds had dispersed. He winnowed away to cauldron knows where, as if he could barely stand the sight of her. It was a sentry who saw her confused expression and led her to her room, then told her that Beron would seek her out when he wished. Or she would be summoned to the High Lord’s quarters.
To be summoned like a dog. She almost let slip. But the sentry did not deserve her anger. So she simply nodded her thanks and went into her room.
-- The first night was the hardest. Beron had, in fact, seeked her out. She did not make a sound as Beron made her undress. She did not let out the tears that threatened to spill out. She did not let herself feel what was happening. But it was afterward when the door slammed shut and she was left alone in that cold, unfamiliar bed that she realized, truly realized, that this was her life now. She was the High Lord’s possession, his to treat however he wished.
And there was not one damn thing she could do about it.
ITS ABOUT HELION AND LOA!!! IM EXCITED FOR MYSELF
tw: noncon (not graphic)
short chapter, 1K words
Summary: Based on Helion's conversation with the IC in ACOWAR, what happened between Helion and Lady of the Autumn court (because ms sarah janet maas takes two years to finish a book and I cannot wait for her big reveal and no one wrote a fic on this so i'm doing it)
Read on AO3
CHAPTER 1: BEFORE THE WAR
“I heard her family wanted internal ties to power, and that they didn’t give her a choice before they sold her to Beron.” - Helion to Mor, ACOWAR
The fire in her blood is her damnation, for she was about to become the Lady of Autumn, the pretty, silent wife to Beron Vanserra.
There was no choice in the matter really, her father needed the political alliance that came from selling his youngest daughter to the cruel High Lord of Autumn. No matter that she was just 20- a child, barely past her first bleed- and Beron was nearly a century old. And war… war was looming, and her parents certainly couldn’t afford for their alliances with the High Lord to drift. She begged her family for more time, to wait just a few years.
-
“I’ll find another High Lord to marry,” she had pleaded on her knees, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. Her father sneered, the room heating with his rage. “What do you know about alliances? To be married to Beron Vanserra, what more could a female like you want?” She flinched. What more could a girl like you want. Love! She wanted to scream. I want to marry the male I love! But what did she know? Her sisters, watching behind a half closed door, looked at her with eyes full of pity and knowing. Knowing, for the male she had met at the equinox ball who had charmed her with his warm smile and bright eyes. The son of the High Lord of the Day Court. Helion Spellcleaver. Her father barely gave his weeping daughter another look before winnowing out of the room. He did not notice the crumpled letter she held in her hands and the unfamiliar necklace hidden beneath her dress. He did not wait for her to reveal the male that has been courting her for almost a year. She threw the letter into the fireplace and weeped. The fire eagerly swallowed up the letter. A declaration of love, a promise turned into ash. - The wedding is a relatively quiet ceremony with just Beron’s most important lords. The commoners would hear of this later, through an official proclamation. It was a relief that no one else would witness her humiliation, though she supposed no one really cared who she was as long as she kept Beron happy.
That was her job now, to keep a high lord happy. To look pretty, have a few children and pray and hope the lord would not tire of her too soon. She supposed there were worst things in the world. Beron’s servants were silent as they prepared her for the wedding, they kept their eyes down, deft hands dressing her without so much as an extra glance for the female marrying their high lord. Perhaps they were glad that with her as Beron’s wife, he would be otherwise occupied, in the bedroom at least.
She was not oblivious to Beron’s temper and the commoners’-- and rest of the court for that matter-- contempt toward Beron. For good reason too, she had heard of how he treated his servant, and how he ensured that people who spoke against him promptly disappeared. The few times she had gone to the countryside were even worse- though she secretly agreed that the farmers’ outright hatred for the lord was justified- they were paid barely more than what it took them to buy their crops, while Beron and other lords in the capital were drowning in finery and wasting the food that should’ve gone to the hungry people.
She was also under no illusion that the lord would grow to feel even an inkling of love for her, knew that she was nothing but a prized breeding mare. She wanted to ask the servant girls how they survived, how she could survive. But as the servants finished putting her hair into twist on her head, the words stuck in her throat. She gave them a thankful nod, and looked in the mirror. She did not recognize who stared back. She was led out by an armed sentry, as she looked back at the servant girls, she was surprised to find that there were tears brimming in their eyes. The girls caught her staring and promptly looked down, expressionless once again. She wondered whether someday she would look like that too.
Suddenly, she couldn’t help but wish that a certain amber eyed male would come a save her.
- She did not remember what happened exactly during the ceremony other than the murmured thanks to the halfhearted congratulations thrown her way. She had been lost in a crowd of lords trying to gain Beron’s favor, the dress making it her for her to disappear back into her room.
Her room.
She did not share a room with the lord, even now that they’re married. Beron had barely spared her a second glance after the crowds had dispersed. He winnowed away to cauldron knows where, as if he could barely stand the sight of her. It was a sentry who saw her confused expression and led her to her room, then told her that Beron would seek her out when he wished. Or she would be summoned to the High Lord’s quarters.
To be summoned like a dog. She almost let slip. But the sentry did not deserve her anger. So she simply nodded her thanks and went into her room.
-- The first night was the hardest. Beron had, in fact, seeked her out. She did not make a sound as Beron made her undress. She did not let out the tears that threatened to spill out. She did not let herself feel what was happening. But it was afterward when the door slammed shut and she was left alone in that cold, unfamiliar bed that she realized, truly realized, that this was her life now. She was the High Lord’s possession, his to treat however he wished.
And there was not one damn thing she could do about it.