#carranam

I smiled slightly at Rhys, who kept looking ahead as we spoke mind to mind. Don’t they know by now that they can find you down here? Of course. But I never go to the same spot twice in a row, so it usually takes them so long to find me that they don’t bother. Plus, they know that if I’m here, it’s because I want to be alone. Poor baby High Lord, I crooned. Having to run away to find solitude perfect for brooding. Rhys pinched my behind, and I clamped down on my lip to keep from yelping. I could have sworn Clotho’s shoulders shook with laughter. - ACOWAR, chapter 20

I could almost see what would have happened: The shop ladies would have been polite—a bit nervous—and given us privacy as Rhys sat on the settee in the back of the shop while I went behind the curtained-off chamber to try on the red lace set I’d eyed thrice now. And when I emerged, mustering up more bravado than I felt, Rhys would have looked me up and down. Twice. [...] Then he’d have tugged me a bit closer before leaning in to brush a kiss to my navel, his tongue— I swore as I slammed into the post of the stairwell landing. And I blinked—blinked as the world returned and I realized … I glared at the eye tattooed in my hand and hissed both with my tongue and that silent voice within the bond itself, “Prick.” In the back of my mind, a sensual male voice chuckled with midnight laughter. My face burning, cursing him for the vision he’d slipped past my mental shields, I reinforced them as I entered my room. And took a very, very cold bath. - ACOMAF, chapter 38

So if Koschei is a daemati and/or shadowsinger, or he has access to one (or both!), then I am extremely worried for all of the warnings Rhys gave Feyre in the original trilogy, with regards to always guarding her mind. Chekhov's daemati hasn't come into play yet, and I am scared for Rhys and co. Do you remember back in ACOWAR, when the twin Ravens infiltrated the Library and targeted Feyre and Nesta? We learnt that they entered the mind of the priestess who let them in, but left her alive for some reason. Rhys, in a state of distress - ie. not at his best, so very potentially not on guard for an attack in the moment - then entered the priestess' mind after the fact, in order to see what had happened. Did Koschei/the hypothetical daemati take this opportunity to stow away in his mind?

I promise I'm not making excuses for Rhys, but I've said before that it would not surprise me if his "out of character" behaviour, whether that be harshly berating Azriel over Elain, or lying after Feyre said "no more lies, Rhys," turns out to be orchestrated by Koschei, or something Valg-like, having infiltrated his mind and quietly pulled some mental threads here and there.

Did the priestess who let in the Ravens unwittingly act as a middle man for a powerful being who wanted to get into Rhys' mind? And who might it be? My money is on either Merrill or Gwyn - and to clarify, this does NOT make them evil, it would make them HIS VICTIMS - because of the following passages. Merrill first.

She knocked on the shut wood door. “Enter.” Nesta opened the door to a rectangular cell of a room, occupied by a desk on the far side and two bookshelves lining both long walls. A small pallet lay to the left of the desk, a blanket and pillow neatly aligned. As if the hooded priestess with her back to Nesta sometimes couldn’t be bothered to return to the dormitory to sleep. - ACOSF, chapter 13

Merrill turned at that, and Nesta was greeted with a surprisingly young face—and a stunningly beautiful one. All the High Fae were beautiful, but Merrill made even Mor look drab. Hair white as fresh snow contrasted against the light brown of her skin, and eyes the color of a twilight sky blinked once, twice. As if focusing on the here and now and not whatever work she’d been doing. She noted Nesta’s leathers, the lack of any robes or stone atop her braided hair, and demanded, “Who are you?” - ACOSF, chapter 13

Merrill laughed, that phantom wind around her whispering. “Do you not know who I am, girl?” “I know that you are keeping us from our work,” Nesta said with that flat calm she knew made people irate. “And I know that this is a library, but you hoard books like it is your own personal collection.” Merrill bared her teeth. “You think I do not know you? The human girl who was shoved into the Cauldron and came out High Fae. The female who slew the King of Hybern and held up his head like a trophy as his blood rained upon her.” Surprise lit Gwyn’s face at the graphic description. Nesta didn’t allow herself to so much as swallow. “The wind whispers to me even here, under so much stone,” Merrill said. “It finds its way in through the cracks and murmurs the goings-on of the world in my ear.” Merrill snorted. “Do you think you are entitled to do as you please now?” Nesta’s power rumbled in her veins. She stomped on it, shoved it down and strangled it. “I think you like to hear yourself talk too much.” “I am descended from Rabath, Lord of the Western Wind,” Merrill seethed. “Unlike Gwyneth Berdara, I am no lackey to be dismissed.” To hell with this witch. To hell with restraint and hiding. - ACOSF, chapter 29

Firstly, there are some parallels with Elain's own magic, and maybe Mor's, that make me think Merrill may also be able to access the murky realm/space between/Void in a similar manner. I include Mor in this, as in addition to her witchy potential, I have long thought that Truth and Sight could function in much the same way. Since Mor's introduction in ACOMAF, many people have noted that Truth-Teller could be named after her, but I suspect it's deeper than that, as Truth-Teller translates literally to "soothsayer." A Seer—Elain. But I digress.

“I was a dreamer born into the Court of Nightmares,” Mor said. She twirled a curl around a finger, and I wondered if her story might be the worst of all of them as she said simply, “So I got out.” - ACOMAF, chapter 16

Seer. The word clanged through me. She’d known. She’d warned Nesta about the Ravens. And in the chaos of the attack, that little realization had slipped from me. Slipped from me as reality and dream slipped and entwined for Elain. Seer. - ACOWAR, chapter 33

Gwyn’s hair seemed to glow brighter with her song, skin radiating a beckoning light. Drawing any listener in. But Merrill’s warning clanged through the beauty of Gwyn’s voice, and Nesta cleared her throat. Gwyn whirled toward her, glow fading even as her freckled face lit with surprise. “Hello again,” she said. - ACOSF, chapter 13

Merrill, as I discussed in this theory, was blinking as she appeared to refocus on Nesta in the "here and now." This parallels Elain leaving the clutches of her Sight, which @wingedblooms and I suspect is linked heavily to the space between, but it also sounds strikingly similar to the following scene with Nesta and Rhys...

Gwyn, however, stilled, those large teal eyes looking even more unearthly as they widened. No fear tinged her scent, but rather something like surprise—awe. Rhys threw her an easy smile, one Nesta would have bet was crafted to put people at ease in his oh-so-magnificent presence. The casual smile of a male used to people either fleeing in terror or falling to their knees in worship. “Hello, Gwyn,” he said warmly. “Good to see you again.” Gwyn blushed, shaking herself out of her stupor, and bowed low. “My lord.” - ACOSF, chapter 28

Nesta leaned into Cassian. Not much, but enough for a trained warrior like Rhysand to note. A dark, silken hand brushed inside her mind. A request. She debated ignoring it, but found herself opening a small door through the steel, spiked barrier she kept around herself day and night. The door was essentially a peephole, and she allowed what she supposed was the equivalent of her mental face to peer through it to the dark, sparkling plane beyond. What? You are to treat Gwyn with kindness and respect. The thing that stood beyond the fortress of her mind was a creature of claws, scales, and teeth. It was veiled from sight beneath writhing shadows and the occasional passing star glinting in the darkness, but every now and then, a glimpse of a wing or a talon shone. Mind your own business. Nesta slammed that small viewing hole shut. She blinked, slowly registering Emerie asking Cassian about tomorrow morning’s lesson, and what she’d miss today by leaving an hour early. Rhysand’s eyes glittered. - ACOSF, chapter 28

We still don't know much about Nesta's silver flames/death magic, but as far as we do know, she does not have Elain's abilities to See without scrying tools, and she cannot communicate mind to mind on her own steam. It's also odd that Rhys has met Gwyn before (though he does not appear to know her well, given Gwyn's awed reaction), because when would that have happened? The above passage from ACOWAR, chapter 20 said that most of the priestesses didn't bother to seek him out when he does visit the library, because they know he goes for his own reasons/he's too hard to find. The only other instance I could think of was Gwyn's arrival, but Mor took her to the library sanctuary, not Rhys. So, was Gwyn's mind the one the Ravens infiltrated, hypothetically allowing Koschei in, to then further his advances into Rhys head when the time came?

Where Nesta had been in contented silence before we found her, Elain’s silence was … hollow. Empty. Her hair was down—not even braided. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen it unbound. She wore a moon-white silk dressing robe. She did not look, or speak, or even flinch as we entered. Her too-thin arms rested on her chair. That iron engagement ring still encircled her finger. Her skin was so pale it looked like fresh snow in the harsh light. I realized then that the color of death, of sorrow, was white. The lack of color. Of vibrancy. I left Cassian and Rhys by the door. Nesta’s rage was better than this … shell. This void. - ACOWAR, chapter 15

It's interesting that we know the colour of "death" and "sorrow" is white, and while Merrill has hair as white as fresh snow, Gwyn's nickname name means white/bright; Gwyn is also cognate with the Irish name... Fionn. Meanwhile, Gwyn ap Nudd is the Welsh king of the faeries, ruler of the Otherworld and leader of the Wild Hunt (about which @merymoonbeam has so thoroughly theorised), while Fionnbharr is the king of the Daoine Sidhe, and occasionally the ruler of the dead in Irish mythology. As an aside, Merrill's name means sparkling sea, which also ties her to Koschei, who is apparently "as old as the sea," or older (per Vassa); is this coincidental, or is SJM trying to hint at some link between the two? Again, I'm not saying that either Merrill or Gwyn are - or will become - evil, but I am considering them as potential pawns in Koschei's game. In Gwyn's case especially I don't think she would be aware, though I could always be wrong.

"The High King is not pleased..."

Another passage that has jumped out at me - I think I've talked about this on one of the Reddit subs, but I can't find it - was this scene Under the Mountain, in ACOTAR.

I’d never become accustomed to the Attor, but I had come to accept its malignant presence. Seeing my escorts stiffen awakened a dormant dread, and my mouth turned dry as we neared the bend. Even though we were veiled and hidden by shadow, each step brought me closer to that winged demon. My feet turned leaden. Then a lower, guttural voice grunted in response to the hissing of the Attor. Nails clicked on stone, and my escorts swapped glances before they swung me into an alcove, a tapestry that hadn’t been there a moment before falling over us, the shadows deepening, solidifying. I had a feeling that if someone pulled back that tapestry, they would see only darkness and stone. One of them covered my mouth with a hand, holding me tightly to her, shadows slithering down her arm and onto mine. She smelled of jasmine—I’d never noticed that before. After all these nights, I didn’t even know their names. The Attor and its companion rounded the bend, still talking—their voices low. It was only when I could understand their words that I realized we weren’t merely hiding. “Yes,” the Attor was saying, “good. She’ll be most pleased to hear that they’re ready at last.” “But will the High Lords contribute their forces?” the guttural voice replied. I could have sworn it snorted like a pig. They came closer and closer, unaware of us. My escorts pressed in tighter to me, so tense that I realized they were holding their breath. Handmaidens—and spies. “The High Lords will do as she tells them,” the Attor gloated, and its tail slithered and slashed across the floor. “I heard talk from soldiers in Hybern that the High King is not pleased regarding this situation with the girl. Amarantha made a fool’s bargain. She cost him the War the last time because of her madness with Jurian; if she turns her back on him again, he will not be so willing to forgive her. Stealing his spells and taking a territory for her own is one thing. Failure to aid in his cause a second time is another.” There was a loud hiss, and I trembled as the Attor snapped its jaws at its companion. “Milady makes no bargains that are not advantageous to her. She lets them claw at hope—but once it is shattered, they are her beautifully broken minions.” They had to be passing right before the tapestry. “You had better hope so,” the guttural voice replied. What manner of creature was this thing to be so unmoved by the Attor? My escort’s shadowy hand clamped tighter around my mouth, and the Attor passed on. Don’t trust your senses, Alis’s voice echoed through my mind. The Attor had caught me once before when I thought I was safe … “And you had better hold your tongue,” the Attor warned. “Or Milady will do so for you—and her pincers are not kind.” The other creature snorted that pig noise. “I am here on a condition of immunity from the king. If your lady thinks she’s above the king because she rules this wretched land, she’ll soon remember who can strip her powers away—without spells and potions.” The Attor didn’t reply—and a part of me wished for it to retort, to snap back. But it was silenced, and fear hit my stomach like a stone dropped into a pool. Whatever plans the King of Hybern had been working on for these long years—his campaign to take back the mortal world—it seemed he was no longer content to wait. Perhaps Amarantha would soon receive what she wanted: destruction of my entire realm. My blood went cold. Nesta—I trusted Nesta to get my family away, to protect them. Their voices faded, and it wasn’t until a good extra minute had passed that the two females relaxed. The tapestry vanished, and we slipped back into the hall. “What was that?” I said, looking from one to the other as the shadows around us lightened—but not by much. “Who was that?” I clarified. “Trouble,” they answered in unison. - ACOTAR, chapter 41

The brilliant @wingedblooms has discussed Nuala and Cerridwen at length before, theorising about their wraith powers and how they may fit in with Elain and her future arc, so I won't rehash all her work (here and here), but I really do love the association of shadows and weaving, and how it ties to the Void tapestry/fabric in ACOFAS (see @silverlinedeyes for her theory about Elain wearing Void). Will Elain and Azriel eventually harness light and dark, weaving them together to traverse the space between, as I have suggested before?

But I digress. The pig creature's mention of a "high king" - the only instance before ACOSF introduced us to High King Fionn - caught my eye, and I haven't been able to drop it. Am I right that the once (and future, if he gets his way) High King Fionn¹ is still in play somehow? As Koschei, at least in part? Theia's light was split into three, could she - or Silene, or whomever the Fae warrior once was - have done the same to Fionn to weaken and imprison him? Have the Bone Carver and the Weaver returned to him, or, alternatively, Amren and Lanthys? I suspect the latter, and this is another theory I hope to post about in more detail at some point. But basically, three brothers for three sisters; three lights of salvation and three of death? As above, so below, right?

¹ I think Silene was missing certain details with regards to her family's history.

Was Fionn, as Koschei, controlling the King of Hybern, with or without a Valg parasite? I find it really suspicious that Feyre immediately dropped back to "king" and assumed the Attor and pig creature were discussing the King of Hybern, especially after ACOSF introduced an actual High King. Was SJM setting up her long-term game plan a decade ago, whether or not she decided to pursue it? Stolen spell books sound very appropriate for Koschei the Sorcerer. The King of Hybern was never a High King, and it's now fairly accepted that he may have been possessed by a Valg. I know there's definitely a possibility that I'm reading too far into this, or it's a plot seed that has since been pruned, but I still think the Attor and the pig creature were ultimately working for Koschei, not the King of Hybern. Just like I suspect of the Ravens, who referred to their "master," not their king.

“May the Immortal Light shine upon thee, sisters"

I was speaking to @wingedblooms and @silverlinedeyes a while ago, and I think it's possible that the runes on the Archeron cottage could have been hiding their magic.

I kicked my boots against the stone door frame, knocking the snow from them. Bits of ice came free from the gray stones of the cottage, revealing the faded ward-markings etched around the threshold. My father had once convinced a passing charlatan to trade the engravings against faerie harm in exchange for one of his wood carvings. There was so little that my father was ever able to do for us that I hadn’t possessed the heart to tell him the engravings were useless … and undoubtedly fake. Mortals didn’t possess magic—didn’t possess any of the superior strength and speed of the faeries or High Fae. The man, claiming some High Fae blood in his ancestry, had just carved the whorls and swirls and runes around the door and windows, muttered a few nonsense words, and ambled on his way. I yanked open the wooden door, the frozen iron handle biting my skin like an asp. Heat and light blinded me as I slipped inside. “Feyre!” Elain’s soft gasp scraped past my ears, and I blinked back the brightness of the fire to find my second-eldest sister before me. - ACOTAR, chapter 2

Feyre was blinded by light and warmth as she entered, which sounds very similar to the way the light of the Starborn - from whom it's very possible the Archeron sisters could be descended - can blind an Oracle, which I have discussed here. Like the iron bracelets I've discussed before, suggesting that they might suppress Nesta and Elain's magic, were the runes there to protect the family? And - given the similarities noted between Elain and her father, and the fact that Elain appearing to be leeched of life in the Hewn City could be due to the land or a portal trying to revive itself - could Papa Archeron's meagre (we assume) human portion of Starborn light have been powering the runes that protected his daughters, leaving him constantly tired, depressed, and drained? And was the same thing happening to his daughters?

Koschei has been playing the long game

I know many of us have discussed the lake of starlight in the Spring Court at length, so forgive me if this has been covered before, but has anyone suggested that it could be linked to Mama Archeron teaching at least Nesta how to swim, after their cousin drowned in childhood?

Nesta focused on her breathing again. She knew how to swim. Her mother had made sure of it, thanks to a cousin who had drowned in childhood. Murdered by faeries, her mother had claimed. I saw her dragged into the river. Had it been a kelpie? Or her mother’s own fears warped into something monstrous? - ACOSF, chapter 33

Has the Archeron sisters' line, possibly both maternal and paternal, been targeted by Koschei for generations? Is it because they are human descendents of the Starborn fae, and/or the faerie warrior who trapped Koschei at his lake, many thousands of years ago? And Vassa? Was/is she to be Koschei's salvation, if his plan works out?

“So I’m your huntress and thief?” His hands slid down to cup the backs of my knees as he said with a roguish grin, “You are my salvation, Feyre.” - ACOMAF, chapter 19

Cassian and I waited, not daring to interrupt. “Clever, that Fae warrior. Her bloodline is long gone now—though a trace still runs through some human line.” He smiled, perhaps a bit sadly. “No one remembers her name. But I do. She would have been my salvation, had I not made my choice long before she walked this earth.” I waited and waited and waited, picking apart the story he laid out like crumbs of bread. “She could not kill them in the end—they were too strong. They could only be contained.” - ACOWAR, chapter 23

She had saved my life once—Under the Mountain. In exchange for my sparing Lucien’s. Did she wonder where her lost son was now? Had she heard the rumors I’d crafted, the lies I’d spun? I couldn’t tell her that Lucien currently hunted the continent, dodging armies, for an enchanted queen. To find a scrap of salvation. - ACOWAR, chapter 43

Mama Archeron died of typhus - and another cousin of hers died of malaria "after visiting Bharat," by the way - and both the Archeron fleet and fortune were lost in a storm on their way to Bharat, sending Feyre, Elain and Nesta (and Papa Archeron) into a poverty from which it would be very easy to perish. Nesta herself said that she wanted them to die to get their father to act. This could all tie in with what we read in ACOTAR:

“Didn’t …,” Tamlin interrupted, his deep voice surprisingly gentle, “didn’t your mother tell you anything about us?” I prodded the table with my forefinger, digging my short nails into the wood. “My mother didn’t have the time to tell me stories.” I could reveal that part of my past, at least. - ACOTAR, chapter 8

I know I'm not the first to wonder at Tamlin specifying Feyre's mother (and not parent or nanny/governesses), but it seems important that...

Mama Archeron knew how to swim²

Mama Archeron saw faeries drown her cousin in a river

² Feyre went swimming in a pool of starlight... did Mama Archeron ever meet a faerie herself (and go swimming, maybe in a pool of starlight - that's less likely, I know)?

You guys know I've been thinking for years that Koschei has been working to prevent 3x3 from happening, such that I think his storms sank Papa Archeron's fleet in order to try to kill off the Archeron sisters through poverty. The pig creature did say that "the High King is not pleased regarding this situation with the girl" - was this because he wanted Feyre (and by extension, her sisters) far away from the action? But Wyrd - who is also playing her own game - had a different, more chaotic, idea?

What if, once Feyre had been Made against his wishes, Koschei had to change tack? He may have wanted the sisters Made after all - better the enemy you know/keep your enemies close, after all - to use them for his own means, but to do that he needed to stop Elriel, and therefore Wyrd, from realising their full potential. Does he plan to insert himself into their union in some way, or use either Elain or Azriel for his own means, due to their hypothetically compatible powers?

The Cauldron's swirling eddies

As I'm sure you're all aware, I've been a believer in the true mates theory for a while, and while my thoughts on the nuance surrounding it have evolved over the last four years, I have believed, since ACOSF, that the mating bond between Elain and Lucien is likely due to Koschei using the Cauldron, possibly through the king of Hybern.

She refused the knife Cassian handed her, though. Went white as death at the sight of it. Azriel, still limping, merely nudged aside Cassian and extended another option. “This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.” His wings had healed—though long, thin scars now raked down them. Still not strong enough, Madja had warned him, to fly today. The argument with Rhys this morning had been swift and brutal: Azriel insisted he could fly—fight with the legions, as they’d planned. Rhys refused. Cassian refused. Azriel threatened to slip into shadow and fight anyway. Rhys merely said that if he so much as tried, he’d chain Azriel to a tree. And Azriel … It was only when Mor had entered the tent and begged him—begged him with tears in her eyes—that he relented. Agreed to be eyes and ears and nothing else. And now, standing amongst the sighing meadow grasses in his Illyrian armor, all seven Siphons gleaming … Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. “It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.” “I—I don’t know how to use it—” “I’ll make sure you don’t have to,” I said, grass crunching as I stepped closer. Elain weighed my words … and slowly closed her fingers around the blade. Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade— Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife. Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife. Paint that when we get home. Busybody. - ACOWAR, chapter 69

“I was just checking on dessert,” Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room. - ACOSF, chapter 58

It wasn't a rainbow that emerged from the other side. Not even close. It took her a moment to process what she was seeing: a gradient beam of starlight. Where the rainbow would have been full of color, this one began in shimmering white light and descended into shadow. An anti-rainbow, as it were. Light falling into darkness, droplets of starlight raining from the highest beam into the shadowy band at the bottom, devoured by the darkness below. Like the fading light of day—of dusk. - HOFAS, chapter 39

But what if light blasted from either prism, meeting in the middle? What would happen in the collision of all that magic? - HOFAS, chapter 39

Twin bursts of that light flared from either prism, gunning for each other. Bands of light falling into darkness, her power stripped to its most elemental, basic form. They shot for each other, and where they met, light and darkness and darkness and light slamming into each other— - HOFAS, chapter 39

Such light and darkness—the power lay in the meeting of the two of them. She understood it now, how the darkness shaped the light. But all that colliding power... it was the boost she needed. - HOFAS, chapter 39

Given SJM's love of/focus on the importance of trios in her work, it would just make so much sense to me that the Archeron sisters each held a third of a new protective power (to replace the portions of Theia's light that Bryce took, leaving Prythian unguarded), becoming a living Archesian amulet, if you will, and that their relationships with the three Illyrian "brothers" would fall under fated or prophecised, rather than cliche. There is a decent amount of evidence that Azriel and Elain showed interest in/comfort around each other from their first meeting in the human lands, and so much about her bond with Lucien seems suss (to me, and of course no shade at Lucien); the balance between three brothers and three sisters is also so important.

@psychologynerd has posted this brilliant theory, which discusses the possibility that the mating bonds between each of the three hypothetical (at least, for the moment) pairs could reflect an alchemical marriage, and I am so on board with that idea. It matches my own thoughts on the importance of Elriel's romance not just for each of them to experience a partner who I think is best suited to them, but for the potential of a carranam bond to exist. And it is for this reason I have long suspected that, while Wyrd (or Someone) gifted Elain her Sight, or activated some genetic potential she always carried, Koschei was very likely pulling some strings between Azriel, Elain and Lucien in order to stop Elain and Azriel from getting together and realising the true potential of their powers, both individually and as a unit. Because if true mates are carranam (or if these three pairs are both true mates and carranam), then they would each be a force to be reckoned with separately, and formidable as a whole. Imagine just how useful all of their powers would be, stripped to their most "elemental, basic form." Besides Elain and Azriel's unique and powerful magics being enough to put a target on their heads, this would make them even more sought after, by someone who knew what to do with raw magic.

Koschei and his ilk wanting to prevent that by using the Cauldron to mimic - @merymoonbeam, I think, has discussed the Cauldron's ability to recreate spells - a mating bond between Elain and Lucien makes sense in this context. Nesta and Cassian were so at odds with each other that maybe they were a lower priority target for that reason - or maybe it was due to Elain and Azriel's specific magics, as I've suggested - but beyond Graysen and Mor, who they've each moved past as of ACOSF, Elain and Azriel have no external barriers to becoming involved romantically. So Koschei took care of it. Or at least, he thought he had done, until Elain and Azriel got perilously close to throwing caution to the wind on the most recent Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year.

Rhys's face drained of color. "You believe you deserve to be her mate?" Azriel scowled. "I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway." "So you'll what?" Rhys's voice was pure ice. "Seduce her away from him?" Azriel said nothing. He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to. Rhys growled, "Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her." "You can't order me to do that." - ACOSF, Azriel's bonus chapter

Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. "Get out" Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him. Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all. - ACOSF, Azriel's bonus chapter

Thank you to @psychologynerd and her anon, who brought the first of these two passages to my attention - I'd completely missed it, even though I've spoken about the second quote before! I have wondered for a while whether the longest night of the year might increase Koschei's reach, strengthen his magic, and/or weaken the wards holding him trapped in his lake. Which brings us back to Merrill and her blinking herself back from an apparent absence, and fury being a "moonless night" on Rhys' face.

As I noted in my reblog of @psychologynerd's anon, Rhys draining of colour actually reminds me of Elain in a couple of scenes, which I have discussed above:

When her skin was as white as fresh snow, which Feyre made sure to note was the colour of death and sorrow

In the Hewn City the night before, when Cassian gave his unsolicited fashion opinion

It made me wonder whether something was trying to get at Elain's magic, so could it signify the same thing for Rhys, with his voice of pure ice? Then Azriel felt nothing, was again nothing at all - Void. It could definitely just be imagery that SJM has chosen to represent their individual struggles, but what if that's not the case? I really do think and hope that "far larger forces" are at play here.

Because Nuala gave us some interesting information about the Winter Solstice in ACOFAS.

Nuala went on, “It’s a time of rest, too. And a time to reflect on the darkness—how it lets the light shine.” “Is there a ceremony?” The half-wraith shrugged. “Yes, but none of us go. It’s more for those who wish to honor the light’s rebirth, usually by spending the entire night sitting in absolute darkness.” A ghost of a smirk. “It’s not quite such a novelty for my sister and me. Or for the High Lord.” - ACOFAS, chapter 1

Is Nuala suggesting that absolute darkness is not so fun for those with a magical proclivity for shadows? She named Rhys, but this could extend to Azriel... and Elain?

It also creates a lovely parallel with this moment in ACOSF:

But even the silence weighed too heavily, and though the shadows kept him company, as they always had, as they always would, he found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer. Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat. - ACOSF, Azriel's bonus chapter

Azriel was spending his evening sitting in the darkness, and it was certainly not a novelty for him, until he saw "the light's rebirth," one Elain Archeron glowing "like the sun at dawn." In addition to the play on Rosehall/Rose + Hall between ACOFAS and ACOSF, this further cements in my mind that SJM was using ACOFAS to help set up Elriel (though I could of course be wrong), and the fact that forces beyond Rhys and Prythian politics may be keeping them apart.

That just leaves the original couple!

How do you solve a problem like Feysand and Nyx?

I've wondered this before in a few different places; what if Koschei wanted to accomplish one or both of the following tasks:

Force Nesta to return the death magic she stole from the Cauldron as she was Made (thus depleting it)

Kill Feyre, Rhys and Nyx before the latter was born, thereby preventing the realisation of a potentially catastrophic (to him) combination of magics

I am far from the first person to note that, when Feyre met the Bone Carver in the original trilogy, and he appeared to her in the form of her future son, he did not have wings. Someone as perceptive as Feyre would have noted that in a second, especially as the Carver did give himself wings at a later date.

“I’d have to agree,” Rhysand said. He stepped inside, the light bobbing ahead to illuminate a dark-haired boy sitting against the far wall, eyes of crushing blue taking in Rhysand, then sliding to where I lurked in the doorway. - ACOMAF, chapter 18

Up and up into the darkness we walked, through the sleeping stone and the monsters who dwelled within it. At last I said to Rhys, “What did you see?” “You first.” “A boy—around eight; dark-haired and blue-eyed.” Rhys shuddered—the most human gesture I’d seen him make. - ACOMAF, chapter 18

Hybern was stirring, frantically assessing what and who now stood before them. The Carver had chosen the form of an Illyrian soldier in his prime. Bryaxis remained within the darkness roiling around it, the living tapestry it would use to reveal the nightmares of its victims. - ACOWAR, chapter 69

So he orchestrated a winged baby in some way (possibly using the daemati backdoor I discussed earlier to ensure Rhys didn't consider wings when he and Feyre had sex in Illyrian form). If he simply wanted Nesta to return her stolen Death magic to the Cauldron, he had created a scenario where she could make a new bargain with Wyrd or the Cauldron to return most of her powers in order for the knowledge to save Feysand's lives. However, Koschei/Someone wanting to off Feyre, Rhys and Nyx - who would be the realisation of both their powers combined - would also make sense, and parallel his hypothetical goal of separating Elain and Azriel, using her mating bond to Lucien; it would permanently destroy the hypothetical 3x3 of light and dark, Chaos and Void, that Wyrd worked to return to Prythian's world. Goodbye, anti rainbow.

We know that Theia's light was a form of protection for Prythian's world - was it really light from the Asteri, as we were told in HOFAS, or was it actually from Wyrd/Chaos? Do Wyrd and/or Koschei want Elain (and likely Nesta and Feyre to complete the whole)³ in place of Theia's then fragmented, and now absent, magic? Did the Cauldron, through Wyrd, gift Elain His abilities, and what was Nesta left with besides her silver flames? If I'm right about Koschei being Fionn in some way, this would tie in very nicely with @merymoonbeam's theory that Fionn was a Seer (which ties right back in with my post discussing Elain's Sight being associated with shadows/the murky realm, and my old crack theory that Koschei/Fionn was the original shadowsinger). It's all coming together lol.

³ I would assume that if this is the case, Wyrd/Chaos and Koschei would want the trio of Archeron sisters for different, likely opposing, purposes.

Too crack? Just crack enough? We'll have to wait and see.

Meals came and went with no sign of Eris returning, so Nesta picked at her food alone in her room. Her appetite was non-existent here or in the Night Court, but at least there was no Cassian to chide her for not eating. When it was growing dark, a knock on the door signalled the return of Foxglove who exchanged her half-eaten dinner for sweet food and a tea.

‘Eris complains that we make too much sweet food then he’s worse than a whining little boy if there is nothing sweet in the house,’ she said, rolling her eyes but in a way that suggested it didn’t truly annoy her. ‘He said to make sure you try one of everything, two even.’

‘Why can’t he tell me that himself?’

Foxglove batted her long eyelashes at Nesta. ‘He has returned to the Forest House. His duties are extensive.’

Nesta chewed on her lower lip. ‘You cannot winnow me back to the Night Court?’

The servant’s face tightened. ‘I do not know how to winnow – besides I would never wish to step foot in that court. It has never been good to lesser fae.’

‘And the Autumn Court is?’

‘It has improved greatly.’ The words were said with a quiet pride and a secret smile. ‘Eris also mentioned that the offer to walk remains.’

Nesta spat out a laugh. She’d watched the sun descend from her window. As the amber light had faded to pink then blue, winged creatures took flight across the trees. They were smaller than high fae, but Nesta couldn’t quite decide what they were – only that she had no desire to be in the forest with them.

‘Won’t you fly me, Foxglove?’

It was the servant’s turn to laugh. ‘Not with the Fänggen roaming.’

‘Those flying things?’

‘Oh, no. Those are lyndwyms. Less volatile than the Fänggen, but they still pack a nasty bite.’

With those words ringing in her ears, Foxglove wished her goodnight and left her alone with an over-loaded plate of slices of cakes and biscuits.

‘Can’t possibly travel with the Fänggen afoot,’ Nesta hissed under her breath as she locked the door behind Foxglove. ‘What the fuck are the Fänggen?’

She released a yowl of frustration then flopped onto the bed. Her arm could just about reach the plate of baked goods so Nesta towed it closer and ate, not caring about the crumbs falling onto the pillow. She hated her life. That was the simplest way to put it. There was nothing good in it. All she had ever done was try to survive in the only way that she knew. The future had never been an option. How could it be when all of her efforts had been focused on survival? Nesta pulled the blanket over her head and wished for a future that no longer existed.

***

It wasn’t Foxglove who greeted her in the morning, but her sister, Holly. She knocked lightly on the door and practically sang Nesta’s name through the door to rouse her. She had no memory of falling asleep, but there were crumbs scattered on the sheets and more on her dress. Nesta had to look a fright.

‘Good morning, Nesta. Eris has procured these for you. I will help you dress and we can ensure they fit properly.’

A bundle of dresses was in the servant’s arms. None of them were her favoured greys or pale blues, but the hues of an autumn forest instead. She had never worn yellow or orange, much less red. This was Eris’ way of scoring a point over the Night Court – to dress her up like his doll. They had been found hastily she discovered due to the tightness across her bust, but otherwise the gown fitted her well. The cut was modest, similar to what she was used to in her old life.

'You look wonderful,' the servant exclaimed. She ran a hand against Nesta's head, smoothing her wayward hair. 'Oh, Eris will be delighted.'

That comment was nearly enough for Nesta to rip off the dress and switch into her one from the Night Court.

Eris was seated alone at a large table in the dining room. He continued reading with an ankle cocked on top of his knee, oblivious to her presence. Even when Nesta took a seat at the opposite end and cleared her throat, Eris remained motionless. His red hair was tousled from the wind. A button was popped open at his colour, revealing a strip of pale skin from his chest. Nesta coughed again.

‘I’m sorry, did you want a tea with honey for your throat?’

She frowned at him. ‘A good morning perhaps.’

Eris rested his chin upon a closed fist on the polished table. ‘Good morning, Nesta. I see you have decided to remain in the Autumn Court.’

‘Because I cannot walk through the forest with the Fänggen abroad.’

‘No, quite right.’

He grinned at her, the gesture strange on his face.

‘Stop smiling,’ she hissed. ‘I don’t like it.’

‘In general or specifically when I do it?’ Before she could respond, Eris continued, ‘I only ask because I have never seen you smile.’

‘What do I have to smile about? You stole me.’

His chin dipped in agreement. ‘And you had a lot to smile about in the Night Court, did you?’

How was it possible for one male to be so infuriating? Cassian knew the ways to get under her skin to invoke a reaction, but it seemed to be Eris’ general demeanour. From the grin, he knew he was irritating her.

‘That is none of your business.’

‘No. And I don’t care to know,’ he admitted, standing swiftly. ‘But I am told that you ate little of your meal last night. You are neglecting yourself. You look a different female since I saw you in the Dawn Court and worse for it in fact.’

The words did not come as a shock to her. Nesta was used to the comments. They had never made her care before and wouldn’t now. She was surviving in her own way. They could not ask more from her. She stared straight ahead.

Eris strode towards her then occupied the chair beside her. ‘Do not let me speak to you like that. Stand up for yourself, for goodness sake.’

She gritted her teeth to stop the tears prickling at her eyes from leaking down her cheeks. She did not need Eris Vanserra to see her weeping because if she started then she wouldn’t stop. It had been such a long time since Nesta had felt anything except when her feelings swung from numbness to anger.

When Eris moved to touch her, Nesta flinched away. It did not stop him for long. As though she were a wounded animal, he moved his hand ever so slowly towards her until an arm curved around her back. It was warm and firm, almost squeezing her. ‘I do not know what they have done to you in that court, but I can imagine. Nobody has a right to peck at you or put you down. The female who stopped my father in his tracks in the Dawn Court is there somewhere. Let her burn again, won’t you?’

When he moved away, Nesta felt cold without his warmth beside her. His steps echoed as he departed.

She did not want to be here. Did not want to be anywhere. Not the Autumn Court, not the Night Court. Nowhere. Nesta no longer wanted to exist.

Eris returned and dropped a massive book upon the table, making her jump. It was as thick as her thigh and bound in aged brown leather. ‘Since I can assume the Night Court have not bothered to help you to adjust, here is a brief history of Prythian. Here,’ he said, laying out a piece of parchment with handwritten notes on, ‘are the passages that I would like you to read.’

She stared at him in disbelief. Another book was placed onto the table with more care this time. ‘This one is a basic understanding of harnessing fire. Perhaps it isn’t all applicable to your special brand of magic, but the theory underpinning magic is equally as important to the practical applications – I believe so, anyway. We will reconvene tomorrow to discuss what you have read. Should you need anything then Holly or Foxglove will be on hand to assist. Until tomorrow, Nesta.’

 There was no motivating her to read. A little spark had formed at the sight of the books, but she could not keep it burning. Her breakfast lay untouched on the table as Nesta retreated to the bedroom. She curled beneath the blankets and remained there.

Holly or Foxglove – she didn’t emerge from the cocoon of blankets to look – came in and out during the day and narrated what they were doing. Most of it was bringing food, removing untouched food, opening the windows to allow a breeze in, closing the windows because there was a chill. When the windows had been open, the sound of birdsong had filtered in. She’d heard dogs barking, Eris’ voice echoing around the grounds, horses braying, and blacksmiths working. She was glad when the servant closed it all out.

In the morning, her stomach ached but the inclination to leave the bed didn’t come. It was her own form of self-punishment – the crime not yet discovered. Everything that she had done had been wrong.

One of the servants bustled in later, commented that it was a beautiful day outside, then departed after another tray of unwanted food was deposited on the table.

Sleep lured her in and pushed her away as the day waned until the door swung open and banged against the wall. Her body tensed in anticipation of another comment from Eris for he was the only one to let doors bang. No remark came. What did come was the scurrying of paws then masses leapt upon her bed. Nesta could not fight herself out of the sheets as dogs clambered over her, barking and wagging their tails as they went.

‘Do you want help?’ Eris called over the chaos of Nesta trying to fight her way out of the sheets.

‘Get them off of me!’

Eris’s deep laugh rumbled through the room, revelling in the chaos.

‘Eris.’

‘What will you do, use the magic you swear doesn’t exist?’

Nesta managed to fall out of the bed, but her escape was worth nothing because the dogs – seven of them – were already leaping up on their hind paws to lick at her. The unwanted food was soon wolfed down with the tray knocked on the floor in the process.

‘I hate dogs.’

‘Oh, don’t say that. Now they’ll never leave you alone.’

The look she gave him could curdle milk, but – with a rueful smile – Eris called the dogs to him. Each one lined up and sat as still as a statue with just a single word uttered to them. Nesta might have told him it was impressive if he wasn’t watching her reaction. Instead, she folded her arms over her chest and raised her chin.

‘Is there a reason for this intrusion?’

‘Yes. I cannot abide folk who waste their days in bed. We have such precious hours of light in the Autumn Court that it’s shameful to while them away idly. Come. We are taking a walk of the grounds while the evening promises a golden light.’

‘No.’

Eris rolled up his sleeves. ‘Who will it be?’

‘What?’

‘Either the dogs chase you from the room or I will.’

The familiar prickle of her magic didn’t come. Eris pinched a finger and his thumb together, holding onto her magic so that she was without it. How could he do it so easily? It bucked against Nesta constantly in its attempts at freedom, but Eris held it with no struggle.

The dogs were issued a command that had them bolting out of the door and down the stairs then Eris grabbed her around the waist and threw her over his shoulder. He cantered down the stairs and all Nesta could do was cling on.

He only put her down when they were in the middle of the grounds. Golden light streamed from the sunset, lighting all of the trees in a glow. The light also caught on his hair and made his face seem warmer.

‘What is wrong with you?’

‘Many things,’ he said with a grin. ‘Too many to list. What’s more important now is understanding what is wrong with you.’

Nesta gritted her teeth. ‘Nothing is wrong with me. I am perfectly fine.’

If she told the lie enough, maybe it would come true.

‘Perfectly fine people do not spend their days wallowing in bed and starving themselves.’

‘Leave me alone,’ she shouted. ‘Take me back to the Night Court then leave me alone.’

‘No.’

Where her magic had resided inside of her, now sat an empty well. Eris had complete control over it. If she had bothered to train then she could do the same to him – to see if he enjoyed the unbalanced feeling that came over her. Nesta’s magic might have abandoned her, but words had always been her weapon.

‘It is no surprise to me that Morrigan would rather fuck a bastard-born Illyrian than face a lifetime with the heir of the Autumn Court.’

Eris – the bastard that he was – tipped his head back in rich laughter. ‘Aren’t you currently fucking that same bastard brute?’

Her temper surged.

Before Nesta could stop herself, she had lunged for the dagger at Eris’s hip and stood with it pressed to his heart. Only the quick jerk of his hand stopped it from pushing through his chest.

Her throat was dry. This was not her.

Eris gripped her hand. ‘You can, if you like. There isn’t a heart there anyway.’

‘I think there is,’ she whispered.

She relaxed her arm then withdraw the blade before returning it to Eris.

‘Please will you return my magic. I don’t feel right without it.’

Cold coiled within her chest then her magic made a contented purr, happy to be where it belonged rather than with Eris. The heir extended an arm for her to take which was the least Nesta could do after nearly stabbing him upon an impulse.

The hills in the distance were hazy as the sun descended.  Birds flitted over their heads as they swooped between the ancient trees. There was a bite to the air – a promise of a cold night to come – which had Eris pulling his jacket around her shoulders.

‘It isn’t true, you know. Whatever story is being spun about me by Morrigan. She knows the truth but won’t admit it.’

‘And what is the truth, Eris?’

‘Bringing her to my father with Cassian’s scent on her would have been a death sentence. He’d have sent pieces of her back to the Night Court and kept others as a trophy. The Autumn Court is a place of death and decay, Nesta. The only female who might survive being at my side is my mate and Morrigan is not that female.’

Did Eris want a mate? A male who gambled and schemed on his path to the top would surely only be compromised by a mate. It would be his weakness – one Beron would exploit.

‘I’m sorry I called Cassian a brute. But he is technically bastard.’

The comment had her supressing a laugh. ‘I hardly think it matters. He is both of those things and not at all.’

‘He has been the most vocal with me about returning you.’

It did not surprise Nesta although his demands likely came from a position of possessiveness rather than care. Cassian believed that Nesta was his; that she owed him her time and company. He had demonstrated that on the nights that he followed her. Instead of helping when she stumbled or tripped, he remained above. He’d perch on the building opposite her own apartment night after night watching as she took different males to her bed.

‘I can only imagine the riveting conversations that you two have,’ goaded Eris.

‘It isn’t like that.’

‘Oh, my apologies. Strictly bedding then?’

‘If you must know, none of them spoke to me since last solstice until a fortnight ago when they removed me from my home and threatened to dump me in the human lands if I did not comply with their wishes to train, Cassian included.’

Cassian never came to her after the war. Not when she wept in her room or tended to her muddled feelings regarding her father. Not when she packed her belongings and hauled them across Velaris. Not when she fell drunkenly in the street and cut open her head. Not when she curled in a ball on the floor sobbing rather than face stepping into the bathtub.

They paused their walking and Eris closed the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around her, embracing Nesta tightly, and made a noise like the air was being squeezed out of him as he rocked from side to side.

‘I wanted to do that since I brought you here, but I worried over your reaction. Since you tried to stab me, I think I can now.’ He exhaled then set them off on their loop of the grounds once more. ‘I don’t wish for you to train to be a weapon. I wish for you to train so your magic isn’t something to fear. You strike me as educated – and I believed that learning about Prythian might be enjoyable for you. Read whatever you like from my collection. Ride the horses. Wrestle the smokehounds. Make an effigy of me and throw rocks at it. I do not particularly care as long as it involves you being out of the bed, eating at regular intervals, and enjoying yourself.’

Suspicion made her pulse increase. ‘What do you gain from it?’

‘I quite enjoy watching the Night Court flounder. Did you know they offered to trade you for your sister? I don’t think Lucien knows they are willing to offer his mate as a bargaining chip. I said no, of course. Elain, apparently does like dogs, so I wouldn’t be able to torment her with my seven as I do to you.’

‘Do you ever stop talking?’

Nesta was used to the roaring silence.

‘It has been so long since I have had a captive audience,’ he said, feigning bashfulness. ‘Let us eat something then I will play the piano for you. Maybe I will sing if you don’t eat enough.’

‘Eris-’

‘Or I will simply keep talking. I will be like a rash that you can’t get rid of – unless you eat and get out of bed, then I will leave you alone.’

‘Eris,’ Nesta called, over his unending stream of chatter. ‘I will read the passages you gave me. I will eat and then read.’ Nesta gave a stiff nod. For the first time in a long time, hope was blossoming on the horizon. She was scared to reach out for it – scared to lose it again. She had to believe it would continue to grow from a distance. ‘The piano. Do you truly play?’

‘Beautifully.’

Nesta nodded again. ‘Then I suppose it would be acceptable if you played while I read.’