#daddy!eris

The Forest House was quiet as Eris walked to the nursery he knew you and the baby boy you two shared would be in.

365 days had passed.

365 days of love, light, and learning. 365 days of fatherhood, of learning to parent better than what his own father had done. 365 days of loving you on a deeper level than he had ever known.

Eris entered the room where you sat, having good morning kisses with the one year old princeling, “There he is.” Eris held his arms out, expecting Conley to reach for him, smiling as the little boy exclaimed dada before wiggling to get away from you.

“Dada wants good morning kisses too,” you cooed so gently. “All the kisses today.”

Eris took his son and looked at you, “365 days. 8760 hours. 525600 minutes.”

You could only nod, the tears already beginning to form, “So much love and so many memories.” You wiped tears of joy, sadness, of bliss. “Remember how little he was?” It felt like yesterday for you, like you had just been handed this perfect little being you'd worked so hard to create. And now? Now that little being was a year old, you and Eris a year wiser.

Your sweet boy had grown so much. He looked more and more like Eris every day. Sharp whiskey like eyes, curling Autumn red hair, freckles over buttery soft pale skin. He was so handsome and smart. Too smart at times.

In the past year, Conley had learned to crawl, to climb. He had learned mama, dada, to shake his head no. He'd learned to eat mostly by himself, and he'd be walking any day now. Eris had told you nightly how proud of his son he was already, how proud of you he was.

This was all he'd never known he wanted and knowing you were considering blessing him with a second babe, it had Eris working harder to prove his dedication to the small family the two of you had created.

Parenthood had changed you two. Unless it was an emergency, Eris only allowed court business to be done Monday-Thursday. He reserved Fridays, Saturday, and Sundays for family and family only. Eris's life was for your son, that sweet boy he was tossing and catching. Rare laughter from your mate was ringing through the air as he had his fun.

“Breakfast is ready,” Eris used this voice every time he held his little Conley. One that was gentle, choking back the love he struggled to believe wasn't a weakness still, but your strong mate failed in that task. His hand reached Your face, holding your cheek as his thumb swiped a few stray tears. “You, my little fox, have done an amazing job as a mother so far. You exceed my expectations every turn, y/n.”

A muted sob left your throat, that insecurity laid to rest as he continued, “You surpass even my mother with your love, gentleness, and devotion to myself, our son, and our family. Autumn is lucky to have such a strong High Lady. I am lucky to have such a selfless, kind, and loving wife. Pumpkin buns here is lucky you are his mother. He won the baby lottery with you.”

Another sob left you as Eris pulled you into his arms, little hands immediately tangling into your messy hair as if Conley was joining the hug. You lifted your head, kissing Eris's jawline, then Conley's nose. “I'm not the only one who deserves praises,” you leaned into Eris's chest. “You have proven to be an amazing father.”

Eris shook his head, “You can praise me once my family leaves.” That tone held an innuendo, a request you would not be denying. “Good,” he purred when he saw your blush. “I look forward to my reward.”

Comfortable silence fell between the three of you, Eris stroking your spine lovingly.

“Breakfast will get cold if we stand he-”

“Let it,” Eris murmured to you. “Let it get cold if it means I get this moment alone with the two of you.” A soft kiss found the top of your head as content babbling began.

You whispered softly to your son, “Happy birthday, baby.”

Eris smiled wide, “Yes, happy birthday, my beautiful baby boy.” You two leaned in, kissing chubby cheeks and squishing them as belly giggling began. “You are the greatest blessing I have ever been given, Conley.” Eris kissed his son's fat cheek again. “Daddy loves you so much. You and your beautiful mother.”

“We love you too,” you held yourself together.

“Thank you,” he looked at you. “Just.. thank you.” The unspoken was known:

For giving him a chance, for saving him from the darkness that was consuming him before you, for never running from him, for staying, for making him a father.

“And thank you,” your unspokenness was known as well:

For loving you at your very worst, for supporting your dreams, for staying when you were suffering the deepest pits of postpartum, for giving you a baby, for letting you have a baby though he didn't know if he wanted one.

“Shall we go eat,” his voice was tight. “Feed this hungry growing boy?”

Conley began to bounce, anxious to move and adventure. “That's a yes. Would you like me to carry him?”

Eris shook his head, “Our whole parenting journey has been breaking Autumn traditions. It's time the court learns what a father's love is. I will carry him to his birthday Breakfast.”

As you two left the nursery, resounding joy was filling the halls. Laughter from the royal family that had been silenced by Beron now carried in the wind to the villages and towns. Laughter brought on by happiness only the security and safety love could bring. You held Eris's free hand as you two went to the dining room doors.

Long gone were the dark heavy wooden ones carved with Beron's story

A story of death that had the former High Lord seen more as a God than a male. They had been replaced with an intricately carved oak featuring the likeness of the oldest apple tree in Autumn's sacred orchard, the one brought back to life through Eris and his sacrifice to the land. You two had been married under it, had your mating ceremony under it, and tonight, Conley's first birthday party would be held in that sacred tree.

You two paused for one last moment, just the three of you. Eris put two fingers under your chin, leaning in to kiss you. “I love you,” he whispered as he pulled back.

“Love you,” you repeated. “Shall we survive your family now?”

He scoffed and bounced Conley, “With you two by my side, I just might.” The guards took the queue to open the doors, Conley's big birthday celebration beginning.

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Of course when you both got into bed, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Soft kisses deepened and he pushed up your nightshirt, determined to pull it off but you shoved at his hand. He pulled away immediately, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“Do you want me to stop?” He whispered. Gods, it felt like it might kill him but he’d do it.

“No.” You didn’t look him in the eyes. “I just, I don’t want,” your voice trailed.

“That’s not exactly reassuring.”

Your gaze met his. You frowned at him. He frowned back. He tried to think of what was bothering you. It had been a few months. Recovery from birth was one of the longer healing processes even in high fae. It was highly possible you weren’t ready despite Edith stating you’d healed up perfectly a month ago. Just because you were cleared didn’t mean you were ready.

“I can wait,” he added. “I am more than happy just keep kissing you.”

“No.” Your eyes widened. “No, I want you. I do. I just. Maybe just leave my shirt on?”

He frowned again. “My love, we talked about this.”

And you both had. He noticed immediately when you started staring too long in the mirror and when you changed up your style of clothing. It took him weeks to convince you to bath with him again, to let him see you fully nude in a neutral setting.

“I know, but this is different.”

“How is it different?” He chuckled and you pouted at him. He sent his love through the bond hoping you’d forgive him for laughing.

“What if- I just don’t think I can handle it if, you know.” You bit your lip and looked away.

“If what?”

“If you- gods Eris you’re such an ass, don’t make me say it.” He grinned at you and it only flustered you more. “What if I kill your mood?”

He blinked, his own eyebrows raised up. “As if you haven’t smacked me several times already in the past month because I have gotten handsy in the bath.”

“That was different,” you protested. “You were just playing.”

He let his voice drop low and put his hand back on your shirt when he replied. “I never play with how much I want you.” He could smell your arousal spike back up. He made sure to lower hand and trace his fingers on your thigh. “Let me show you. If you still don’t believe me then we’ll stop and I’ll go to sleep in the study. Do we have a deal, my fire?”

“Gods you don’t play fair,” you said breathlessly.

“Whatever do you mean?”

He’d already distracted you enough to get his hand farther up your thigh, the shirt inching up with it. He reached your hip, his fingers running over your infernal underwear.

“Can I?” He asked, hooking a finger on the band.

“I don’t know. Can you?” You smarted back.

He looked you straight in the eyes when he replied, “I can and I will.” Then he set your underwear on fire, ensuring it only burned the fabric away and not your skin.

“Eris!” You yelled and pushed up the bed in shock.

“Hush, you’ll wake the baby, love,” he chuckled and used his magic to clear away the ash.

“You set my underwear on fire.” You hissed.

“I did. And I’m about to set that shirt aflame as well if you don’t let me take it off you.” He grinned.

“Fine. But if you can’t get it up, I am cutting your cock off and stuffing it down your throat. Then I’m murdering you.” You hissed and tugged up the nightshirt to pull it over your head.

“I love it when you're feisty.” He purred, his eyes immediately wandering down your body as you tossed the shirt off to the floor. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Start?”

You tried to cover yourself but he was not having it. He crawled over you, grabbing and pinning your arms by your head. He watched in real time your pupils dilate, your eyes going near black.

“I said I would show you how much I want you,” he leaned in and brushed his nose against your own. “So where do I start?”

For once he’d rendered you speechless. Good. He didn’t need you arguing with him when your opinions were clearly wrong. Especially when he let you go and sat up to look you over again. The mother truly blessed him by putting you in his path. He made sure to push that down the bond and smirked at your cheeks darkening.

“I know these are the babe’s favorites.” He whispered. He traced a finger around your breast. “It’s wrong of me to say this but I do enjoy it when you pull my hands up your top.”

“Eris,” you hissed.

“It’s true.” He grinned. “You get my warm hands pressed against your sore breasts and I get to hold you.” You blinked at that confession. “My mate, did you think I had nefarious reasons?”

“I thought you just liked to touch my breasts.”

He shrugged, “what is that phrase my brothers keep spewing when they cheat at cards? A win is in fact still a win?”

You rolled your eyes. He continued moving his finger down your sternum and traced around your stomach. You frowned.

“Despite how you feel, I do love how soft you are now.” His fingers moved around to your side and traced your hip. “And how wide your hips are now.”

“I don’t. I had to buy a whole new wardrobe. That was expensive.”

You then yelped and jolted as he moved over you, putting one leg between your thighs to wedge him apart.

“As if I care about the cost. These hips carried our baby.”

He leaned in and kissed the valley between your breasts. His left hand cupped your right breast when he kissed down your chest again. He could feel you relax under him and grinned against your stomach. He maneuvered himself so he could switch and cup your other one against his heated palm.

“I swear that’s all you're good for,” you teased, placing your hand on top of his. “Male hot stone.”

He slid down further and nipped his teeth at the skin above your belly button and he felt you tense again. He knew you hated how soft your stomach was and how the skin there was still recovering from being stretched to accommodate your child. He’d spend the rest of his life convincing you it was a blessing if he had to. Because it was.

“This beautiful belly of yours,” he kissed your stomach, “made our perfect babe. That was all you, my fire.”

“I know.” You didn’t sound convinced.

Eris knew it would take time. Even if he was impatient, he wouldn’t argue with you. He learned a long time ago that only made you stand firm in your thoughts. Instead he pressed more open mouth kisses along your stomach, pulling his hands away to loop his arms under your thighs. He didn’t miss the way you gasped or how your scent sweetened. He definitely didn’t miss the humming want you were pushing in through the bond. He rolled his hips into the bed like a fuckin youth just to relieve his own tension.

He wasted no more time, eager to get his mouth between your legs. He pulled your legs apart and peppered kisses on the inside of your thighs. You were still tense; something he had not encountered since the first time you were together. Despite your apprehension, you were still wet for him. He tried not to be smug as he put his mouth on you and your body relaxed in his hold.

He moaned as he licked up your center, your taste and smell overwhelming him in the best way. It was almost muscle memory, his tongue moving against your already swollen nub in a way that had you grabbing him by his hair. And by the cauldron, did he miss your hands in his hair.

Eris had planned to take his time. Take you apart slowly and remind you how much he loved you. Your body had other plans. You rolled your hips against his face, and he sucked and licked harder. He didn’t even get his fingers in you before you moaned and arched on the bed.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you came, panting and yanking his hair as he worked you through it. You had enough when you pulled him up.

He laughed. “That’s a record.”

“Is it?” You were still gasping.

“You really know how to stroke a male’s ego.” He sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should take breaks more often.”

“Insufferable.” You muttered.

“I’m about to be even more insufferable,” he said with a sly tone.

He made certain you were looking when he rolled his pants down, his length springing free and curving up on his stomach.

“Still doubt me?” He smirked and stroked himself.

You groaned. “Fine, I believe you.” Despite your tone you gave him a loving look. “Now hush and come fuck me.”

Eris kicked off his pants and crawled over you. There were no words exchanged as your legs fell open and he seemed to settle in place with ease. You gasped when he reached in between you both to guide himself into your slick heat. He groaned almost too loud when he bottomed out into you and stilled.

By The Mother he missed this. Being so close to you; being physically connected to you. The bond between you both tight, filled with love and passion. He laid there for a moment to savor it. He kissed you deeply and used his hand to bring your leg up farther on his waist.

He pulled away and leaned his forehead to yours. “I swear I’d put another baby in you right now if Edith wouldn’t kill me.”

“I think I would kill you.” Your tone was amused rather than annoyed, thankfully.

“And what sweet death it would be,” he muttered.

He kissed you again and propped himself up on one of his arms. The shift alone felt like lightning shooting up his spine. He realized at that moment he shouldn’t have laughed at you for coming apart so quickly. Eris groaned and cursed when he rocked his hips.

“Know how to stroke a female’s ego.” Your laughter faded into a moan; Eris thrusted into you a little harder.

You were both mostly silent after that. Eris’s mouth was preoccupied with kissing every inch of your face and chest he could reach. You were biting your lip when he wasn’t kissing you so you wouldn’t get vocal and wake the baby. He could feel you plateau through the bond, both of you just enjoying the feeling of being together in this way again.

He finally moved up and put your leg up over his shoulder to let him dive into you harder. You sighed and he felt your pleasure spike through the bond. He tried to not be smug about it. He reached his hand between you and rubbed his thumb gently in time with his thrusts. He grinned at how you mewled.

“Can you come for me again, love?” You nodded. He was close himself, his breathing haggard. “Will you do that for me? Come with me.”

It took a few moments before you arched off the bed again and flooded the bond with your pleasure. He groaned coming right behind you, but not stopping until you stopped pulsing around him. He dropped your leg and damn near collapsed on top of you.

Eris pushed himself off you with a groan, still catching his breath. “I think I need to start training again.”

“Overwork yourself?” You giggled “I think that’s just your age showing.”

Eris bit back a retort. After a moment he reluctantly moved off the bed and muttered he would get you a towel. Sleepiness was creeping into his bones while he cleaned himself off and wet a hand towel for you. He grabbed his pants off the floor where he tossed them and before he returned to bed, he peered into the nursery. Your babe was still fast asleep.

It seemed you were also sleepy when he crept up to the bed and saw your eyes closed. He made sure to heat the towel with his hand before maneuvering it between your legs and cleaning up the mess he made. You inhaled sharply but only blinked at him. He incinerated it once he was done.

“You’re so dramatic,” you grumbled at him.

“But you love me,” he said and leaned in and kissed you again before crawling into bed.

Rook sniffles, resting his head in the crook of Eris’ neck, and hiccups. Eris pats soothing motions into his son's bare skin, peppering his freckled cheeks with loving kisses as he calms his youngest child down. He rocks the little boy, waltzing up to the big windows and pushes the curtains open, letting the afternoon sun shine in full force. The room overlooks the small orchard in the back of his quaint home. Trees he’s planted himself with help from you and your daughters, an important tradition to your family. 

It started on your first date. Eris had already known you were the one—love at first sight—and kept his home away from home a secret from his family, only using it to escape Beron’s throes when he really needed it. Briar, he named it. He had cooked you a hearty meal with the most expensive, luxurious wine he could find, and after a delightful dinner, he’d walked you through the nearly empty rolling hills behind his home, hand-in-hand.

You’d commented how the fields needed more trees and had gushed on and on about what he could do with the space. His shadow hounds had run by your feet, chasing each other through the ankle-high grasses, and he’d immediately taken you to his mount and settled you in front of him, taking the both of you into town to purchase some seeds. 

It has been tradition ever since. Birthdays, anniversaries, births, deaths, any and all celebrations the both of you would go into the yard and plant a tree. Maude loves her cherry trees with all her heart, and Eris is convinced the only reason his daughter ventures outside is to pluck the fruit off the trees and stuff herself silly, stumbling back into the house with stained fingers and lips.

A juniper tree for his other daughter, Juniper. This one was harder to acquire, but thriving well in the backyard, closest to the home. June doesn’t seem to understand the value of the tree yet, but someday, Eris knows that she will.

And a sweet orange tree for his little boy Rook. It had been one of your cravings when you were pregnant with him, and to plant the tree only seemed fitting. Rook devoured any little orange bits he was given with the biggest smile on his face.

He makes a grabby hand for the tree, smart enough to know where his favorite treats are from. 

“You hungry, little man?” Eris asks, and Rook babbles in response. He lifts his son, blowing raspberries on his bare stomach that has cheerful giggles bursting through the room. Rook’s auburn eyes shine up at his father, laughing only harder when Eris catches a whiff of his nappy, grimacing. “Alright baby, let’s get you all cleaned up first.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

“Why is our son naked?” you muse, allowing Eris to press a kiss to your cheek while you scoop the last of the cookie dough onto the tray. Your mate and daughters had been helping you, but the girls had been more interested in eating the batter their father kept sneaking them, so you shooed them away to play with their dolls while the cookies baked and you patted Eris on the butt as he went to check on Rook. 

Your son keens, pressing his own open mouthed kiss to your cheek. It’s all slobber and suction, but you can’t help the beaming smile that splits your cheeks anyway. 

“Because he keeps burning them off, Fawn,” Eris answers you, nose wrinkling as he turns to the babe, “Isn’t that right buddy?”

Rook screeches in excitement as his father tickles his stomach. It isn’t abnormal for your son’s power to be flaring up with his emotions. You’d gone through similar situations with Maude and Juniper around this age as well. You still have the burn marks of waddling feet branded into the wood to prove it.

Placing the tray of cookies into the oven, you reach out to take Rook from your mate. “Such a little stinker,” you tease, bopping your youngest on the nose. He retaliates by grabbing a fistful of your hair and you curse mentally, knowing you should’ve tied it out of his reach. 

“Where are the girls?” Eris asks, peeking around the kitchen for any leftover cookie dough. In his mission to steal as much as he could for his daughters, he’d forgotten to sneak a taste for himself. The mixing bowl sits soapy in the sink and he deflates a little.

“Coloring in the den,” you answer, eyes twinkling. Your stomach swoops still at the sight of Eris, even more so whenever he interacts with his children. You knew he was loving, but seeing him like this, completely at ease with no worries tightening his shoulders, he looks ethereal. “Why don’t you get them washed up for some cookies?”

“Yes, please,” Eris says, stealing a kiss from you. Rook squeals and you swoon.

Leaving Rook with you, Eris takes off into the next room. He finds Maude and Juniper spread out on the floor, their coloring supplies strewn about. Thylix and Codon, two of his hounds, laze around both girls, having taken it upon themselves to become their guards. They hardly leave his daughters alone, often choosing to sleep beside their beds at night, though Eris knows his daughters let them jump into bed with them as soon as the door shuts behind him. 

“What are my baby girls drawing in here?” Eris asks, tiptoeing forward. They startle and the hounds’ ears perk up at the sound of their master, but they don’t move. His daughters look up at him with those big, round russet eyes, and Eris knows immediately that they’re doing something they shouldn’t be.

“Daddy,” Maude pouts, hiding something in front of her. Eris’ brows furrow as he wonders what she’s keeping from him, but her younger sister, Juniper, holds her doll up in the air, proudly. 

“Daddy!” June yells, pushing up onto wobbly legs and racing towards him. Eris scoops her up and she squeals, bringing her doll with her, showing off her artwork to her father. Marker streaks across the face of her plaything, reds, oranges, and pinks adorning the cheeks and dress, across the doll’s eye.

“What’s this, Junie?” Eris asks, admiring her artistic abilities. There’s potential, but if she’s going to continue her artistic streak, he better get her something more appropriate to color on. Maybe sign her up for one of the local—or Night Court—art classes.

“It’s Daddy,” she answers, beaming up at her father. His heart swells, but he doesn't seem to be comprehending what Juniper is trying to convey.

He looks around his middle daughter to his oldest, still in her spot on the ground. Her cheeks are pinked with a blush and she’s pouting at her little sister for ruining the surprise.

“Care to explain, Maude?” Eris asks, though he’s not really sure if he wants the answer.

She sighs, shoving up to her feet. She holds up her doll in front of her face like she’s going to get in trouble for what she’s done, but Eris doesn’t understand why.

Until Maude explains. “We drew your scars on our dollies,” she says, and it all clicks. The one across his cheekbone from when Beron has nicked him purposefully with the edge of his sword before he set foot into his first war. His father had said the scar would help him relate to his legion the more roughed up he looked. 

Another, peeking out from the strap of the doll's dress, right above her heart. It’s a rendition of the brand on his chest, another gift from his father. He tries not to let his children see his scars, especially that one in particular, but she must’ve seen it when she’d crawled into your bed after a nightmare perhaps.

Eris’ eyes prickle but he blinks the emotion away. His throat is thick, and he distracts himself by taking a second look at Juniper's toy. Upon catching her fathers gaze on the doll, Maude speaks again. “Junie drew Uncle Lulu’s eye scars on hers. I told her we were supposed to be drawing only yours, but she didn’t listen,” Maude huffs a little, annoyed that her younger sister didn’t follow her direction.

“That’s…that’s very thoughtful, Junie,” Eris places a chaste kiss on her forehead and she grins. “You both did such a wonderful job.”

“You’re not…mad?” Maude asks, staring up at him nervously.

Juniper kicks her legs, trying to escape Eris’ grip. He lets her down and she abandons her doll, racing for the kitchen where she can hear you talking to her brother.

Eris kneels, taking Maude’s hand in his and tugging her into his chest for a hug. “No, Maude, I’m not upset. I’m impressed.” 

“You really like it?” she asks shyly, pulling back so she can look him in the eyes.

The tall red haired male walked out of Uncle Rhysie’s office and in a quiet voice threatened him, “If the Shadowsinger or his daughter are made aware, I have every right to retaliate accordingly.”

The two males strode down the corridor too quickly to notice the tiny, sneaky feet taking off down toward the opposite end - back toward the crowd.

“Daddy!” Azalea yelled breaking Azriel out of his brooding long enough to swoop his youngest daughter off her feet. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“That guy that was with sissy! He threatened Uncle Rhys!”

“Where is he baby? Do you know?” Pointing her little index finger she gasped, still catching her breath from running down the long corridors, “down that hallway!”

Azriel’s shadows immediately shot out down the hallway breaking off from eachother to search down any corridors they may have gone down after leaving the study, finding Rhys in under a minute. Azriel appeared at his side only a moment later. “Where is he?” the spymaster growled. “I’m going to kill him.”

Rhys put a hand on his brothers shoulder. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“This isn’t time for your diplomatic bullshit, Rhys.” Azriel’s voice a low, dangerous tone. “He’s assaulted my daughter and threatened my High Lord. I have every right to retaliate accordingly.”

Rhys only shook his head, unphased by his brother’s rage. “No, Azriel. I know it’s a less than desirable situation, as a father, your brother, and Y/N’s uncle, I understand your rage. Especially given the unsavory history between Eris and our family.” The High Lord shrugged, loosing a breath and shaking his head. A rare break in his unruffled stature, a drop of his guard that only those closest to him would ever see. “But - your daughter is a consenting adult and a willing participant in this…dynamic between the two.”

Azriel started but couldn’t form words before he continued. “I’m not sure why Azalea thought Eris threatened me but I assume she overheard the words between Eris and I once we stepped past the wards on the study where we discussed the terms of a bargain.”

“What. Bargain?” Azriel ground out.

“The details of the bargain are between Eris and I but I assure you that your daughter has not been assaulted and I am not in any danger.”

Azriel gaped, quickly regaining his composure before rebutting. “How are you so sure? He’s a snake, Rhys. His word means nothing. His sense of loyalty only lay in self-preservation. He’d tell you anything to save his ass.”

“Eris,” His brother replied - taking on the grating tone of a High Lord. The tone that only came out when he was about to pull rank. “Has been a valuable ally in recent decades and has given us no reason to distrust him during that time. I’m not about to put our court at the risk of conflict with the Autumn Court and severing all diplomatic ties over who he’s sleeping with, Y/N included.”

“So my daughter is just a pawn in your political game?”

The ground rumbled as the strike hit its mark. “I remind you that she is still my niece, my niece who I love dearly. You would be wise to remember that I am still your High Lord and to consider your next words carefully as it seems you are implying I’m not capable of making sound decisions for my court.”

“There is no question regarding your court decisions, Rhysand. But what about our family? She is my DAUGHTER and I will protect her by whatever means necessary. Once again, I ask, how do you know Eris is not just covering his ass?”

“I will speak no further on this other than telling you that Eris has repeatedly gained her verbal consent - I was allowed into his mind to hear it for myself.”

Azriel stilled. Words once again failing him. Rhys felt guilty for putting his brother through this. Truly, he understood his upset. Azriel’s daughters meant everything to him, the gods knew he and Elain had been through hel and back in bringing them into this world - praying to the mother and any other gods that would listen for the chance to be parents.

In Azriel’s eyes, Y/N would always be the little girl who used to sneak out of bed late at night, climbing into his lap and begging for him to sing to her and her own restless shadows. He cherished the countless nights she’d fall asleep on his lap while he went over reports in his study, humming tunes that his own mother sang to him during what little time they had together during his childhood.

Perhaps the instinct to protect his girls from the ugliness of the world he’d grown up in clouded his vision, perhaps he was being overprotective, but he couldn’t let it go. This was the male who left Morrigan behind to bleed and suffer alone after being discarded like waste by her hateful family.

Sure, Eris and Mor had worked things out after finally having a one-on-one conversation fifteen years ago. And sure, maybe the reasoning behind it was logical and his side made him less of a bastard than initially thought, but…. He was still the male who had been engaged to Mor five damned centuries ago, and now he’s sleeping with-

The thought made Azriel’s gut churn as he finally broke from his contemplative silence, voice cracking to the point that his brother truly pitied him and the situation at hand. “She’s only twenty-five years old, Rhys….”

Rhys sighed, his voice softening into a more empathetic tone. “I know, Az. But she’s older than Feyre or Elain were when we pursued them, the same age Nesta was when her and Cassian- What I mean is that they were all perfectly capable of making the choice for themselves. Do you think they regret it?”

The rhetorical question lingered in the air before Rhys continued. None of the Archeron’s regretted their decisions. Cauldron knows that Azriel still couldn’t fathom why Elain chose to love him through even the good times let alone the worst of them. Her patience a soothing balm to his melancholy. He’d never stop being grateful for Elain, his daughters, the joy they could spark within the darkened depths of his soul.

“You are a great father, Az.” Rhys spoke gently. “Some of the hardest moments of parenting involve letting go. Freeing our children to live and learn from their own decisions. We’ve always believed in giving a choice, haven’t we? Shouldn’t that extend to the ones the Mother herself blessed us with to guide and nurture? Y/N has flourished into a headstrong, brilliant, take-no-shit female. You can trust her to care for herself.”

Rhysand’s reasoning seemed to placate Azriel, if only momentarily, though the agitation of his shadows betrayed the neutral expression on his face. “I trust her, Rhys. It’s Eris that I cannot bring myself to trust. What happens when he breaks her heart?”

“You’ve got wings, brother. If he breaks her heart and everything comes crashing down, you’ll be there to catch her.”

Azriel let out a contemplative sigh.

“I’ll always catch her.”

His brother’s hand reached out, resting on his shoulder with a firm yet reassuring grip. The newly formed tattoo from his bargain peeking out from under his collar.

“So, you’re really not going to tell me about this bargain?”

Rhys gave a half smile, shaking his head. “Sorry, brother. Even the greatest spymaster in Prythian’s history won’t pry it from me.”

“We’ll see.” Azriel murmured, the tiniest bit of humor lacing his words. “Well, I better get back to Elain and Azalea. If Elain needed a drink after the incident on the balcony, she’ll certainly need one after leaving her alone to endure Azzy’s incessant questioning on ‘sissy and the fire guy’.”

“Future Spymaster” Rhys mused.

“Ugh.” Azriel groaned, roughly running a palm over his forehead, threading scarred fingers through his raven-black hair. “Don’t give her any ideas.”

————————

“Fuck! Eris! Right there. Please, oh gods - please!”

With legs thrown back and my calves on either side of my head, Eris was fucking relentless.

“I like seeing you this desperate.” he cooed, rutting into me with a particularly hard thrust.

He’d edged me for an hour - an hour that felt like eternity - the sweet promise of oblivion so close to my grasp just to be torn away over and over again.

“Eris, please.”

His lips pressed softly against my temple, a stark contrast to his rough, punishing thrusts. “I know, baby. I know.” His heated whisper caressing the shell of my ear, shooting chills through me.

“So proud of you. Taking me so- Fuck!” He ground out through gritted teeth. My inner walls tightening around him in warning of another impending climax - a desperate plea for release. “You’re so. fucking. tight.”

Tears streaked my eyes from pleasure and the desperation for release. His pace becoming staggered as he loosed his reign on the punishing rhythm he’d set. His groans a fucking melody to my ears, a symphony of worship dedicated solely to me and for only my ears.

His thumb found my clit, hitting that perfect rhythm he’d memorized so well. I’d fall over the edge in no time if he’d allow it. “Cum with me, pretty girl.”

My eyes rolled back into my head at the command.

Fucking finally.

A little added pressure from his thumb and a whispered praise later - I was an incoherent mess of moans beneath him. The sounds of my climax and his groans filled the room, his cock twitching in a battle of dominance against the clenching of my inner walls, his release filling me so completely that I never wanted emptied of him.

We laid in reverent silence with his head buried in the crook of my neck, our chests heaving in a come down of the euphoria that had just torn through us.

Eris finally broke the silence, amber eyes meeting mine. “You are- that was.. Fuck- incredible.”

A smile quirked the edges of my lips, “It was.”

I paused, taking in the gorgeous male above me before gripping his ass and digging my nails in.

“Never fucking edge me like that again.”

Eris only chuckled darkly in response.

—————————————-

Eris

An internal war raged within Eris. The gentle rise and fall of Y/N’s chest only interrupted by the occasional snore, which she insisted she NEVER does, clued him in to the fact that she was deeply asleep. Even her shadows had settled in without stirring.

When she’d first spent the night with him two years ago, she never slept like this. Her rest was light and fitful, shadows on alert.

Around a year in, her shadows began settling themselves in at night, and six months ago he heard the first little snore fall from her lips. He chuckled to himself before his heart filled with contentment at the fact that she felt safe enough in his arms to let her armor fall.

An intrinsic part of him wanted to remind her to always be on alert. For fucks sake, she was the beloved niece of a High Lord, the daughter of the infamous Spymaster of the Night Court, and a coveted Shadowsinger herself. Throwing Eris into the picture only complicated things for her more. If the wrong people laid their hands on her - fuck, he couldn’t even think of it without the heat beneath his skin turning boiling.

Yet - he knew she was capable, raised surrounded by warriors in every sense of the word, some of the most powerful beings in Prythian’s history, who knew damned well that there would always be a target on their back. He was well aware from his own upbringing to always keep his guard up and to never be quick to trust. Hell, his own father didn’t even love him.

Throw in the fact that she was raised by a loving family - the emphasis on protecting herself would have been immense, exhausting in its own right.

For now, he’d quietly revel in this gift of trust she’d subconsciously given him. The fire coursing through him now settling into that of contentment, radiating from him into her. She didn’t need another reminder of the dangers of her very existence. For now, he could give her the gift of comfort and peace in return for her trust.

She’d effectively ruined all other females for him, whether she knew it or not. Hell, there had been no other females in these two years. When she looked at him she saw him as Eris and not the High Lord of cunning whose mask he wore - just as he saw her as Y/N, not merely a descendant of a family with an infinite number of ways to kill him if he broke her heart. Not to mention the ways she could brutally end someone who hurt her if she so pleased.

No, in the confines of this room they were Eris and Y/N, and only that. He couldn’t help but press a kiss of adoration to her shoulder at the thought. The love coursing through him for the female in his arms a thing of secret, lovely beauty that he’d keep to himself for a while longer.

—————————-

Y/N

I’d managed to sneak home unnoticed the following night - thoroughly sated after Eris insisted he make up for each orgasm he’d denied me the previous evening. Fortunately, nobody noticed my arrival home yet, effectively avoiding any awkward conversation that I was not yet ready to face.

Of course, I should’ve known that someone would realize I’d made it home.

Quietly sneaking in my door Azalea came into my room.

“What are you doing up, Azzy?” I asked.

“I missed you sissy. Daddy said you were with Nyx.”

“I was, we went out with Adish and I stayed at his apartment afterward.”

She sniffed the air, crinkling her nose. “You don’t smell like you were with Nyx.”

“You sure put the nose in nose-y” I laughed.

“Daddy was mad last night. He doesn’t like the fire guy.”

Sighing at my little sister’s pertinence I replied, “I know Azzie. Father doesn’t like any males that I…” choosing my next words carefully to avoid any further damning questions, I continued. “…spend time with.”

“Did he…. Um, fuck you?”

“Azzy!!! You can’t ask people that and that’s not nice to say. How do you even know what that means?”

She looked down at her feet, brows furrowed.

“I overheard Mommy and Daddy talking late last night and dad said he wanted to kill Eris for fu- um, doing that to you.”

She paused. “What does that mean anyway?”

Good gods. My little sister. “Azalea, you’ve got to stop snooping on everyone.” I paused, once again choosing my words carefully. “It just means that we spend time together without being around other people.”

“Oh! Like Nyx and Tamlin’s daughter.”

I put my face in my hands. “I don’t even want to know how you know that - but please keep it to yourself. That’s nobody’s business but Nyx and Layla’s. Okay?”

Azalea paused, considering. “Fine…”

“Make a bargain with me that you won’t tell.”

“Daddy said we can’t make bargains anymore because the tattoos hurt.”

“Shit, fine. I forgot. Pinky promise then?”

Azalea smiled. “I pinky promise. Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

“Yeah, sissy. You can.”

We lay there in silence for a few minutes before Azalea said, “Did you know that the fire guy and Uncle Rhys made a bargain?”

“Eris, Azzie. His name is Eris. Yeah. I saw his tattoo. He said it was just about something political.” I stuck my tongue out for emphasis. “Boring High Lord stuff.”

“Is that why he told Uncle Rhys that if he told you or daddy that he would re-um, retaliate?”

My heart jolted at that. Anger rising in me to the point of nausea.

What. The. Fuck.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s get some sleep.”

I did not sleep that night.

————————————————————————

A/n: Thank you to everyone who has been reading this series! I have been having fun with it and the comments you all leave have been very entertaining. This will not be the last part - I’m on the fence of how long I’d like for it to be. Do you all prefer longer or shorter series fics?

Also, I chose Elriel as the parents in this series because the Aunts and Uncles dynamic fit better with the storyline. Low key, I also wonder if Gwyn could be related to the Vanserras and that would be… awkward. I will not take a stance on Elriel vs. Gwynriel because both are lovely females deserving of happiness, whether that happiness lay with Azriel or not, I don’t care. I just want everyone to be happy, ok??? Don’t yell at me. Ok, love you all. Xoxo