Alex of 90s

Summer time had passed somewhat peacefully and autumn had arrived once more to Summer court's land, not that it would change much in the court of raging seas and warm winds. Varian had been busy these past season from training the summer court navy, dealing with nobles when Tarquin couldn't, dates with Amren and so much more he didn't realise summer had ended until he saw an increase of people heading to Autumn court to join the fire night.

Walking through the streets of the common folk's territory like usual, Varian took notice that sometimes there were performers usually from spring that would entertain the people for coin. 

He hadn't realised it before but those performers would either sing praises of the brave summer folk who gave up their lives to protect others during Hybern's invasion or tell tales of a wicked witch from the north who betrayed her saviour and brought destruction to the land.

It was only when he saw a puppet show of the tale did he realise the witch was Feyre Archeron. He didn't outright ban them but he told the guards to push them out of court faster.

Nothing however could prepare him for what he noticed at the news stand.

News papers were a relatively new, about a few hundred years old and had become wide spread with many news publications using summer court merchants to spread their news all over. Varian had never went to the news stand himself since he had servants to fetch him papers from only certain publishing houses that cater to the interest of nobles but what he saw made his blood run cold.

There were maybe several publications of different news papers slandering the night court. His eyes scanned every front page, these were news papers meant for commoners so he never bothered but with this much hate, he could only assume this was a way to push ideals into the masses.

Modern slavery in night court. Interview with a night court fae. Stop buying from the night court. Night court cause of high food prices? Rhysand's mysterious history of dead lovers. Feyre Archeron the vile human turned fae. The victims speak against the rulers. Dawn and day facing economic troubles. Rhysand and Feyre involved in other kingdom's affairs. Azriel shadowsinger the torturer. Rejoice that lord of bloodshed was flightless.

"I demand you to stop selling these now!" Varian slammed his fist into the news stand frightening the seller as steam puffed from his body.

The lesser fae was almost melting into a puddle but what he held made Varian's eye bulge out. The fae held today's news paper the front page was too scandalous even for peasants.

FUCK-

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"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!" Rhysand shouted his voice shaking the house of wind and causing Nyx to cry. 

Feyre tried to calm down her son while her mate paced around in the main hall reading the news paper in front of him, gripping it so tightly until it tore.

"Rhys, what is it?" Feyre asked as she rocked Nyx trying to get him back to sleep. She looked tired maybe even lighter compared to Rhys who was healthy.

"Feyre Archeron, Victim or seductress. Varian was serious saying we should read this." Amren read loudly with a smirk before chugging an entire glass of red liquid.

"There is no denying that the once human girl had lived a hard life but to reach where she is now, one must question was it luck or skill. One could consider her a victim of the cruel high lord who once paraded her around as his whore, an unwilling victim but it appears that victim might be a mask." Mor read and her eyes widened as the papers showed moving pictures of Feyre dancing with Tamlin, seducing Lucien in spring, her public appearance in Hewn city with Rhysand and finally a picture of her with Tarquin. "It appears that the high lady seduced maybe bedded these males to slowly rise the rank. From fiance of a lord to a high lady and even now she's still aiming higher by cuckoldig her mate as she tried to get close to Summer's high lord but it was ruined due to Hybern's attack-" Mor continued to read but stopped when the news paper suddenly combusted into flames.

Feyre's face was red from embarrassment while Rhysand seethed with anger, "Azriel! Get in here now!" He ordered.

In seconds the shadows on the floor before Azriel slowly rose from it already kneeling awaiting orders.

"Find whoever wrote this, kill them, threaten them, break their fingers or whatever I do not care. Stop anymore of these, that's an order!" Rhysand commanded as shadows swirled around him uncontrollably mirroring his rage. His breathing laboured and he turned to Mor.

"Get a fucking meeting set up with me and Tarquin, I won't stand for this insult towards me or my mate," the high lord ordered before walking out. Feyre followed him wanting to calm her mate despite being busy with a fussy baby.

Unknown to Rhysand however these type of news papers had been spreading through out pyrinthia and the fae realms. Had he look closer maybe he'd realise just how much the hate had festered before it became too much.

Back in spring court, the citizens were told the tales of those trapped in the mines who wish to see the night sky, the song of widows from Hewn city and the many news that were passed to them through the news papers from summer court. Slowly their hatred towards the night court slowly morphed into hatred towards the cruel nobles especially the court's rulers, Rhysand and Feyre. 

The same happened in Hewn city. Since Beron took over spring's trades with supervision, the cavern cities managed to receive high protein food enough to keep them full but barely gave them enough energy. Strong enough to live but not enough to fight back.

The people of hewn city especially the lower levels had such a low literacy level that many lesser fae could not read. Yet every paper wrapper found its use, as the poor bought wrapped food, the images on the wrapper would move using a glamour spell, to sow bravery in the heart of those who watch it. To yearn more than a life trapped in endless caves but to have freedom. Change was brewing and it began when Tamlin sent out the spring performers outside once more, after all a great performance can inspire even the most silent of fae.

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Quiet. For the first time in years Elain's mind was quiet. Rhysand struggled to read her mind since she awakened her gift, her thoughts passed too quick and too much happened for him to know which were her thoughts or whispers of time. After her latest vision, it seemed everything was quiet. Her gift wasn't gone but any time she tried she would repeat the same thing. Piles of bones as far as the eyes could see and an ominous hum in the air. 

She had adapted to the change smoothly for the most part, one could even claim she was glad to be rid of countless possibilities that once flooded her brain.

Lucien has been the only constant in her improvement. The fawn had became quiet since her last vision predicting the end of high lords. The first week she barely ate or left her room, she would gaze at the window until Lucien brought her food from the human lands. Lucien also brought Nesta some dresses and Feyre some paint from the human lands. He would keep close, rarely talking aside from the usual compliments. Elain had started to leave her room more often, gardening again and thankfully wasn't a nuisance to Rhysand. Feyre would talk to her from time to time, getting her to spend time or baby sit Nyx while Nesta kept her distance watching her from afar.

Lucien had heard them whispering amongst themselves of sending her to train like Nesta or maybe forcing her to the library had she been difficult hence why he took action. He couldn't allow her to be hurt that way.

The autumn male wasn't always at the night court, he would be there a day at most before disappearing for days. He was juggling several task ranging from helping Vassa rule, negotiating with the human villages below the wall, meeting up with nobles to keep supply running into the night court and he was the one who applied for Cassian's wing replacement at Dawn to try get Nesta's hopes up. He doubt however that the engineers would build it so quickly.

In his visits, anger would build up in Elain's heart. She wasn't sure when it began, maybe when she kept being pestered by visions of the male with Jesminda or maybe it started when she realised he wasn't hers. Not fuly at least. She spent her days watching the moments of joy between her sister and their mates, she thought she would have it but that moment didn't came. Instead her moments with him while romantic always had a lingering feeling of sadness in them. Elain was confused once but from her visions, she was sure that feeling was reluctance or guilt because Lucien had a mate, one he loved dearly and Elain wasn't her. From summer to autumn that anger continued to rise.

Today was the one that broke the camel's back.

Elain was enjoying her time in the garden, watching the setting sun seating at one of the quartz chairs there. She wasn't useful anymore so she had no worries except staying out of trouble. The peace shattered when she felt a tug close to her lower rib.

Elain had looked to her side and noticed Lucien walking up the steps of the house of wind but rather than walking straight ahead the male took a detour heading towards her. He was charming in every sense of the word, immaculately dressed like always but this time he was carrying a package likely for her. 

People usually liked receiving presents and Elain was even thought to not reject them as that would be rude but she had enough.

"Can you stop it." She blurts out more sharper than intended.

Her voice startled the male and stopped him in his tracks, "I...I didn't mean to-"

"To what? Shower me with gifts? Flirt with me?" Elain interrupted before standing up stomping towards him. Months of build up anger spilling out refusing to be kept. "You can stop all this at once! You don't need to keep me company or save me or fight for me when you don't even want me. I know you already have another mate, one you actually love... so just stop it. I'm sure Rhysand can break this bond or something." She raised her voice at the male but became more unsure of herself before stepping back hugging her arms close to her body, making herself seem small.

Anger was ugly. That's what her mother taught her. Don't raise your voice at suitors or you'll end up a spinster. Elain followed those orders but sometimes it's too much. Why couldn't she have happiness even after everything.

"I... I don't have another mate... but if you want me to leave I'll do it." Lucien staggered back when Elain came to close. He was confused for a moment but was resigned that Elain didn't want him.

Anger spark in her stomach again, she look insulted as if Lucien didn't know what she was talking about, "do not take me for a fool! My curse- my my visions showed me your mate, Jesminda. I saw how you both look at each other, I -I  I saw the thread... that mating bond you have with her. In fact I'm enraged for her, how dare you do what you're doing as if you do not have a mate! As if she's-"

"Dead. Jesminda is dead." Lucien deadpanned.

Silence washed over the scene as the last of the sun's light faded welcoming the night. A few of the magical flowers started to glow yellow illuminating the garden softly. 

Elain and Lucien stood eye to eye, he was resigned but a thousand thoughts ran through Elain's head. Everything began to click in place, the sadness she felt in the bond from Lucien, why Lucien had both of his eyes in her vision, why he looked younger and less scarred. She was seeing the past and she didn't even know.

"What?" She barely mumbled the words.

Lucien looked up the sky and closed his eyes before exhaling as if bracing herself for the worst. "She died... 287 years ago. Beron thought she was a fling but after decades together he couldn't bare his youngest with a fae below his station. He... my brothers tortured her until she passed. I don't even know where she's buried." He confessed his russet eye becoming teary.

Elain wasn't sure what to say. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact she saw Lucien's past and she had been wrong for months.

Lucien forced a smile, "I know where I'm not wanted... good bye Elain." He muttered weakly feeling as if his heart was being torn open again, "I...thank you. I always wondered if she was my...now I know." He bowed at Elain before turning around and walking away.

Elain could have reached forward. To stop him. To say anything. To do something but she didn't. That's not who she, she was polite, she'd listen then react, never to act first.

As Lucien moved further and further apart Elain felt the bond began to stretch like a thread being pulled. It stung her chest as the bond fought to stay connected, to say it wasn't a mistake. To say they belonged.

"Wait!" Elain raised her hand reaching for Lucien but it was too late. He had winnowed away and the bond broke. She expected to feel freedom before this, to feel like herself but that's not what happened. She wished to be rid of it yet she felt like a piece of herself was gone but Lucien was still alive. She had forgotten what loneliness felt like, what it meant to only have one beating heart instead of two. She couldn't feel him, only the gaping hole she had dugged herself into.

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News of Rhysand and Feyre's visit to the summer court was not well received at all. It would have been wise if both of them had just winnowed but they chose to make a spectacle flying in a black carriage carried by a gargoyle and landing in front of Adriata Palace. They weren't greeted by performers or nobles instead masses behind palace gates screaming at them to leave, the guards had to erect water walls to protect them from trash being thrown at them.

Cressida and Varian welcomed them inside, the princess was indifferent but the Prince was more friendly. A top of the stairs of the main hall was Tarquin who seemed to be wearing his most extravagant clothing and jewelry he had.

The young high fae's white hair was braided into dreads tied together with pearls, opals and gold. He wore a large cloth that appeared like real moving waves that draped over his right shoulder and extended to the rest of his body with a golden belt embedded with blue diamonds keeping it in place. He looked down at them but he was starring daggers at Feyre.

"Why are you wearing that?" Was the first thing Tarquin said instead of greeting the rulers of the night court.

Rhysand wore his usual black attire but adorned with blue gems but Feyre was more different, she was wearing a dark blue dress with a flowy skirt with the edge of the skirt sparkling like star dust. Tarquin however was more focused on Feyre's head wear, she didn't wear night's crown but had wrapped a moldable fabric around her head like most of the summer court nobles would do with the back being a large circle mimicking a halo. It was more extravagant however with blue gems tied with it.

"You seem to forget your manners, Lord Tarquin. You didn't even greet us." Rhysand sneered.

"We wanted to show respect to your culture and court, that's why we're dressed in your colours and wearing this," Feyre explained herself and gestured to the head wear.

Tarquin narrowed his eyes at her while his mouth twisted to one side as he walked down the stairs, "you likely had one of your seamstress make it, instead of hiring a summer fae."

"Is there a problem or do you just want to waste time?" Rhysand questioned stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Cousin they mean no disrespect-" Varian tried only to be silenced by Tarquin's raised hand. The high lord was angry and Rhysand couldn't figure it out, everyone's mind in that room was silenced or jumbled as if everyone had taken a precaution against his daemati. As if he was someone who couldn't be trusted at all. He felt disrespected by all this.

"That head wear. Take it off." Tarquin ordered coldly as he stood at the edge of the stair case.

"Pardon?" Feyre stepped back hand on her chest as in disgust as if the summer fae had insulted her new born.

"You've lost your marbles. She is high lady and has no need to listen to you, you don't own her." Rhysand snarled as shadows curled around him like hungry beast.

"No but she is a ruler. One that clearly doesn't care for others culture as she claimed, if she actually studied she would know that head wear style is sacred to the spiritual practitioners of this court. The head wear can only be worn by those who had poured centuries of their life learning the secrets of the ocean and caring for it and you Feyre Archeron do not deserve it when you were the one who help spill my peoples blood into the seas." Tarquin scolded and stepped closer his voice carrying authority much older than himself.

"Be nice cousin, surely the high lady has been studying other important topics in her free time and not lazying around painting all day like any common consort of a lord. After all she is high lady and will not jeopardise this meeting." Cressida coaxed with a practiced smile. 

Feyre's cheek heated up from embarrassment before she slowly grabbed the head wear and took it off. She couldn't bare to look at the noble summer faes, not when they all looked at her with disappointment. "I'm sorry.." She mumbled.

You have nothing to apologise for. Rhysand's words sneaked into Feyre's mind assuring her despite her mind shields.

"Let's just get this over with." Rhysand snapped and grabbed the head wear making it disappear before wrapping an arm around his mate. He walkes beside Feyre while glaring at Tarquin who was still indifferent.

Later the rulers gathered in a small meeting room with turquoise walls with a glass floor showing the waves beneath them. They sat on chairs of bronze embedded with blue gems with a circular table between Tarquin and the two.

"Since all forms of pleasantries are unnecessary, we demand you stop whoever is publishing this slander." Rhysand began and threw the news papers to the table. Most of it were just the slanders that's been send out since last spring but the one that made the summer lord's lisp turn upward was the Feyre's questioning of being a seductress.

"Eiether you're brave or stupid for marching into here and demanding something of me without offering anything, then again you two aren't known for being politically savvy." Tarquin replied unimpressed. "You two wouldn't even be here if it weren't for my cousin's pleas. Act better." He warned.

"What do you want?" Feyre asked curtly letting Rhys calm himself. They couldn't afford a mistake here.

Tarquin made no effort to hide his annoyance, he instead snapped his fingers and an image of a familiar book was glamoured. "The book of breathing and compensation for the damages as well as lives lost for both spring and summer court," he demanded. 

Rhysand didn't need his daemati to see how angered the high lord of summer was but he wasn't sure if it was for his people or because of his cousin's loyalty. He and Feyre shared a look, the book was gone and further they couldn't compensate spring without becoming poor themselves.

"You're asking too much from us. We'll agree on compensating the damages and the lives lost of summer court alone... as for the book. It's no longer in our possession." Rhys bargained trying to meet in the middle. Now that he had time to think he had to make sure the meeting was a success. To stop the war and get summer to ally or betray Tamlin maybe help take down Beron if possible.

"What do you mean it's not within your possession?!  You stole a priceless artifact during war and now it's just...gone?!" Tarquin interrogated his voice raised from disbelief.

"It was... it went missing when we tried to use to fix the cauldron. It wasn't our fault." Feyre excused herself.

"Wasn't your fault? All of this is both of your faults!" Tarquin snapped as dark clouds gathered outside.

"Careful how you speak to my high lady." Rhysand snarled wings expanding to make himself look larger.

"Or what? You'll attack me? You'll wage war? Go ahead..." Tarquin goaded unafraid as he leaned back as the waves beneath them raged on. "All this time us high lord's were afraid of going against you. The night court has two armies so large it's force is enough to overwhelm one or maybe two courts alone. Our nobles were deep in your pockets chasing your gems and ores...now we don't. The seasonal courts aren't afraid of you... none of us are." He expressed coldly without breaking eye contact with Rhysand.

"You shpuld be. My sister predicted that if war starts there will be no victors, that koschei the deathless a powerful force from the eastern fae realms will destroy us all." Feyre informed her tone sharp.

Shadows swirled around Rhysand as he glared, "we are trying to save Pyrinthia the world even. This is your chance to make things right. Tamlin will drag your court down but if you join us, you'll be hailed as a hero."

"Oh wow your sister make a prediction? I'm sure it's true expecially coming from the two faced high lady herself." Tarquin mocked in a squeaky voice clearly showing his age before he pointed to Rhysand, "be a saviour? I'm not an idiot. You claimed to be saviours but how many lives were lost because of you both! If this is saving then consider me your enemy. Now get the hell out of my court." He ordered eyes flashing a deep blue as the palace shook from being hit by a large wave.

"You're making a mistake." Rhysand state as he stood up.

"Don't think you're a saviour, hypocrite. If you were serious about saving Pyrinthia you'd accept any and all punishment for the crimes you both committed against the people but you don't. That tells us enough." Tarquin countered as he trailed after them making sure both actually walked out of Adriatta palace.

"Farewell, Tarquin." Rhysand spoke annoyed.

"Try not to steal anything else," he said to them both when they finally stepped out of the palace ground and winnowed away. Tarquin needed a vacation but unknown to him Cressida had sent a letter to spring while Varian was preoccupied in trying to calm the masses who only knew of the meeting because she leaked the info.

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"Steady...steady. Be ready everyone! The lightning must hit the almendro tree if we want to harness it for the spell!" Tamlin informed stand beside a plump tree with arms raised to the sky as dark clouds gathered and lighting crackled above. A few of the researcher were ready as the thunder got louder and louder each time.

"Now!" Tamlin shouted and swung his arms down towards as lighting striked the tree but due to his closeness he was hit as well.

The lighting harvest was a good test run but problems for today didn't seem to end. After being striked Tamlin had returned back to the manor to clean up but took a detour to his study since Shel wanted to meet. 

"YOU DID WHAT?!" The high lord roared from the room causing the hanging plants in the manor to swing and some even falling.

Shel stood in the room hands holding themselves as she faced Tamlin, "my lord... I know this is a serious offence... I however cannot focus when you look like that."

"This is a serious matter!" Tamlin countered but most of his shier was burnt off and his braids were undone due to the impact. One thing he learnt today was that static hair causes hair to stand all over hence why he looked like he had replaced his golden hair with a large frizzy yellow ball that occasionally spark electric.

"Why would you even do this... make a deal with Lucien? Especially considering you hold the mirror of everywhere and the lock to atraxia's vault." Tamlin huffed and summoned a comb to try fix his hair. The moment he tried it broke and Shel sniffled a laugh.

Shel took a breath despite not having lungs, "do you ever wonder what would happen if you were killed? You might welcome death with open arms but what about your people?" She asked as she placed a book down filled with known relatives from Tamlin's bloodline. It was filled with pictures, names, where they were, their beliefs and a short description of their personality.

Tamlin seemed confused for a moment before sighing, "the magic will choose who it chooses. We cannot control it and I'm sure it'll choose someone better."

Thorns grew out of Shel's body, "do you even hear yourself?" She replied agitated. "If you were to die tomorrow the land would weep. Your people would feel it in their hearts and would rage, they wouldn't wait, they wouldn't care for the new high lord because they want blood. They will rally anyone and everyone just to go to war with the night court who'll they'll blame. Why? Because they love you!" Shel raised her voiced and slammed her trunk like fist into the table smashing it to pieces.

Shel looked at the damaged she caused while Tamlin looked at the young fae he pushed to her brink. She shouldn't be thinking of this at such a young age.

"If you die tomorrow... our people will go to war because they love you as you love them. The next high lord could be better or they could be worst... so no I won't stop. I am taking precautions because you can't seem to fathom that someone horrible could become the next high lord. Someone who will undo everything good you have done to spring so hate me for it if you must but I will always. Always choose spring court." Shel continued confidently.

"I don't hate you for this... not when I have the full truth," Tamlin responded softly and reached out to hold the hybrid's hand but stopped himself before he could. "You know what Lucien will ask of me, and you know that the rulers of night won't accept it." He reminded.

Shel picked up the book then looked at the high lord, "I know... but if there's even a chance to resolve this without going to war. Something you do not want then I'll take it because I know you won't forgive yourself if any of our poeppe died."

Tamlin sighed, "alright... I agree to it. Just....please take care of yourself. Go on break from time to time, enjoy being a dryad and not just spring's advisor."

"I will...you should do the same as well ,your lord ship. I'll tell the brownies to prepare a bath for you and fix...that." Shel agreed and gestured to the fuzzy yellow ball that was Tamlin's hair.

Tamlin sighed, "Thank you. Please don't remind me my hair beautiful hair is gone." Shel nodded and left the room finally allowing Tamlin to use his magic to fix the table and slouch in his chair to ponder. He didn't want to see Lucien again so soon, he felt bad what happened before and he didn't want his anger to take control again. He couldn't do that to him.

End note: I'm glad someone remember that Shel represents Tamlin's relationship to the land.

Shel isn't bad but yeah maybe I added the bottom part to save her. She's protective of spring.

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