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I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 16)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the moment you’ve all been waiting for, that’s all i can say

warnings: Night Court slander, pro-Tamlin,

word count: 7.7k (y’all better appreciate how long this is)

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: THIS IS THE BIGGEST CHAPTER YET GUYS!! so much is revealed that i’ve been planning for MONTHS, i’m so excited to share it with you. please send me all your reactions!

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 /

read on ao3

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The stench of blood and shredded flesh was choking your senses, clogging your throat like the thickest oil. Everything was happening in slow motion through the stained glass as Hybern’s soldiers retreated, crowing their victory as if it took a great deal of skill to slaughter a defenceless village. Their cries were muffled, as if you were underwater. Every limb ached, too stiff and heavy to move even an inch. No amount of effort could get you to lift your head up.

You were going to die here. That much you had accepted.

What would be the point in living anyway? With your entire village dead, you closed your eyes, waiting for the embrace of death to whisk you away. Each breath was like shredding a knife through your chest, what was taking so long? Everyone else was gone, yet you were cursed with the ability to still draw breath.

A strange, white flicker drew your eyelids open. Everything was blurry, but even in your dazed state you could tell that something was happening. Groaning, you stretched out your fingers. If you had a voice, you knew you’d be screaming at the pain from such a simple movement. As your palm outstretched, something warm and gentle closed around it, as if the sweet spring breeze itself had formed a hand of its own to clasp yours. The touch was gentle, reassuring even. It flooded you with a sense of calm. Was this what death was like?

The white flickering from the bodies in the village erupted in a shower of starlight and sunshine, glowing tendrils rising from the mangled fae in your line of vision. They descended upon you like smoke, and the warm touch around your hand squeezed once before agony overtook your body.

You didn’t know if you were screaming or not. Your throat burned as if a dagger had slashed it open. Your abdomen ached, as if it was being hacked apart by a longsword. It felt like Hybern’s soldiers had descended upon you with their weapons, striking and cutting a thousand times. You heard nothing but the ringing in your ears as your body shook with spasms.

Please just let me die faster, You pleaded to the Mother. I can’t take this. Just end it already.

Even throughout the unbearable pain that wracked your body, you could still feel the warm sensation like someone was squeezing your palm. You wondered if it was your mother, preparing to guide you into whatever afterlife lay ahead. But the pain didn’t stop, didn’t end. It just kept going for what felt like eons. And then, like a weighted blanket was being laid over you, it stopped.

*********************

“Wake up.”

You opened your eyes and groaned, Rhysand’s voice making your already pounding head worse. You had endured hours of hearing it scraping against your mental shields, pressing to try and find a way in. You had felt his anger, his frustration and disbelief at not being able to get through. Every ounce of his hatred had been flung at you like a thousand arrows, making you see right through the High Lord.

You felt his self righteousness, his true feelings about how he didn’t give a shit about anything but his precious circle. Even them, he looked down upon – including his own mate and High Lady. As Rhysand flung his thoughts at you, you read them like paper on parchment. He may love Feyre and his family, but at the end of the day he needed control. And there you were, a stain on his image, a brick out of place at the foundation of his empire, threatening to bring the whole thing down.

Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, feared you.

He was afraid of your influence, how openly rebelling on him and calling out his lies might spread ideas to others. Especially with Nesta, Cauldron-made, on your side. The thought of Rhys being afraid of you would have made you laugh, if you weren’t tied up in a cell for days on end. You weren’t even sure how you were still alive

You never figured out what happened that day your village was attacked, after the slaughter ceased and you were left alone. Every time you closed your eyes, that glowing light from the bodies around you haunted your dreams. You weren’t sure if it was even real, if any of it actually happened or if your mind had made it up. But you had felt different since that day in a way that couldn’t be explained. It was as if something coursed through your bones, waiting to answer a call.

You were changed that day, and for months you had chalked it up to your state of mind being altered by something so traumatic. But you had been in this cell without food for longer than your body, even as a faerie, should have been able to survive. Something that clearly also perplexed your captor as he stared at you.

“I don’t understand you, (Y/N).” Rhysand said with lethal calm. “Nothing about you makes sense. You happen to survive a slaughter at the hands of Hybern, you infiltrate my court and make a magical bond with Nesta Archeron that nobody has ever seen before, and you somehow resist my magic. I want to know how you’re able to do that.”

You spat up the blood that had been pooling in your mouth. “Go fuck yourself. Prick.”

The High Lord chuckled, but continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “And to top it off, you’ve been scheming with Eris Vanserra this whole time. Plotting to overthrow me, perhaps? To rip my court out from under me like Feyre did to your beloved Tamlin? If it is revenge you are after, I suggest you rethink your plan.”

You said nothing. It would be pointless to argue with him. Anything you say would be twisted and used against you, so you held your tongue.

“It matters not,” Rhys continued, pacing back and forth with his hands in his pockets. “Because you failed in whatever it is you wanted to accomplish. You are here, locked in this dungeon where nobody can find you. And whether I grant you a merciful death or not depends on you answering this one simple question.”

Rhys stopped pacing, and leaned towards you. His face was inches away from yours, violet eyes boring into you like lasers. You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. “What spell did you use to cast the bond? Gwyn’s story only tells us so much, if any of it is even related to this, but I know there’s more to it”

You huffed, cracked lips stinging with the effort of speaking. “You seemed to have a list of other questions, what happened to those?”

“Oh, I have other ways of finding out the answers to almost everything else. But with Nesta Archeron tucked away somewhere in Autumn, you are the only other person who can speak to the magic of the spell.” Rhys’ slender finger caressed your cheek, making you squirm with discomfort. “And if you cooperate like a good girl, how about I make you a deal? I will let Nesta live out whatever shit life she wants in Autumn in peace, provided you give me what I need.”

Your breath lurched, the horror of his insinuation dawning on you. Rhys never intended to let Nesta live peacefully in Autumn, not because he cared for her safety in the clutches of Beron, but because losing her made him look weak. Even if Nesta was married to Eris and protected by the whole of Autumn, Rhysand would take every opportunity he could to hunt her like a dog and bring her back.

No doubt he’d paint himself as the hero of the situation. Poor Nesta Archeron, stolen away by the evil Autumn prince and made a bride against her will. Rhysand would save her from her terrible fate, dragging her back to the Night Court to be hailed a saviour. And that would be the last time Nesta ever stepped out of Night, he would make sure of it. Under the illusion of caring for his beloved sister in law, of course.

You glared at him, but he only chuckled again. Rhys leaned away from you and stood back upright, picking at the sleeve of his shirt casually. “It matters not,” He said. “Azriel is on his way right now. He’ll tell me what he’s discovered, and when the sun rises over the mountains, he will kill you.”

It felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped on your body as you remembered the fading voices of Rhys’ command to his spymaster before you had passed out. You didn’t know what Azriel would do. On the one hand, he had stood up for you in a way that Rhys clearly hadn’t expected. But on the other, he has been loyal to the prick for five centuries – holding out hope that would change now was foolish. All you could truly hope for was that he granted you a quick death.

“What if he didn’t find anything?” You croaked. “Still gonna kill me then? I thought you were desperate to find answers.”

“If Azriel cannot find them, then there is nobody that can,” The High Lord countered simply, as if he were making idle chit chat. “And then whatever secrets you’re so determined to keep die with you, the magic along with it. That’s something I can live with if not knowing at the end of the day means protecting my court.”

You laughed bitterly. “As if you care about that?”

Rhys’ eyes narrowed, his body stilling like a predator frozen before the kill. “Excuse me?”

“You sure don’t give a shit about most of it.” You challenged brazenly. “The women in Illyria who still get their wings clipped, anyone who has the misfortune of living outside Velaris, you don’t care about anyone but yourself and your little family. You rule because you like the power, not because you care about the people your power is supposed to protect.”

“I have outlawed wing clipping in Illyria–” Rhys growled, but you interrupted him.

“And without enforcing it harshly you have only ensured that the practice of wing clipping becomes more underground, leaving females to die from mangled procedures.”

If looks could kill, Rhysand’s would have obliterated you. But you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself at the anger you elicited from the High Lord. Judging by his reaction you knew that he knew you were right. He just hated hearing it.

“I see Azriel taught you too much.” Rhys hissed.

“What did I teach her too much of?”

You flinched as Azriel’s voice echoed in the chamber. Out of the shadows he appeared, melting into the space of the dark cell like wax. His expression was unreadable, and he did not look at you. He faced his brother, not sparing you a single glance.

“Azriel, I am very glad you’re here.” Rhys’ voice singsonged, an obnoxiously chipper tone to it. The smug look on his face made you tense up preparing for the worst.

Gwyn was the only other person who knew about what magic was used to cast the bond between you and Nesta. Your gut twisted at the thought of Azriel going to her for answers. The priestess had sworn she would never breathe a word, but in more ways than one Azriel could be… persuasive. Rhys had already figured out the story the spell was based on by going into her mind, if he knew what else she had found….

You were certain of one thing though: if Azriel had harmed Gwyn in any way, you’d tear him limb from limb.

“I assume you’re going to be more helpful than this one here regarding information on the bond?” Rhys continued, crossing his arms proudly.

Silence that was almost too loud took over the cell for a few moments, until Azriel uttered one word from his lips. “No.”

Rhys blinked in surprise. “No?” He said. “You mean you honestly found nothing?”

A tentative flicker of hope ignited in your chest. Azriel was stone faced as he answered to his High Lord. “Correct. The library was of no use, even the restricted section. I found nothing resembling the bond (Y/N) and Nesta used.”

The High Lord’s eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head. “Interesting. You are usually more useful than this, Az.”

“I explored all of my available resources and found nothing.” Azriel’s voice was monotone, no emotion or life to it. It was the voice of a spy, unreadable and impossible to decipher. It made you nervous, unsure of what angle he was playing at. Azriel was not stupid, he had to know Gwyn would have been the one to give you and Nesta access to the information.

Which means whatever his reasoning was, he chose to keep Rhysand in the dark.

“Pity.” Rhys clucked his tongue in disappointment. “I know dear Amren was dying to find out what spell it was. But it doesn't matter anymore. I guess we’ll all have to live with the disappointment, won’t we?”

Azriel remained motionless as he spoke. “I am sorry I failed you.”

Another minute of silence overcame the cell. You barely even breathed, heart racing with every passing second. Until Rhys spoke the words you had been anticipating for days. “Kill her.”

The shadowsinger shifted, standing more upright. As your heart dropped into your stomach, you anticipated him reaching for truth-teller. If he had kept the information about the spell out of Rhysand’s hands, you took it as a sign he would make your death quick and clean at least. And so you closed your eyes, finding yourself for the second time in one year waiting for death to come and claim you.

“No.”

Azriel’s firm words made your eyes snap open in confusion. Rhysand was taking a deep breath, as if trying to keep himself calm and collected before he spoke. “And why not?” The High Lord said icily.

“Because this is wrong.” Azriel said, shifting his weight as if the mere act of disobeying his High Lord caused him discomfort. He glanced at you, eyes softening for a second as he spoke. “And she is my friend.”

“Please,” Rhys scoffed angrily. “No she is not. She was manipulating you, you fool. Maybe her pretty face kept your shadows distracted enough from figuring that out, but she is not your friend. She is your prisoner, whom your High Lord is ordering you to kill.”

“I said no.”

You glanced uneasily between them, not expecting Azriel to openly defend you like this. Rhys, apparently, felt the same thing. His breath was uneven, and his voice laced with rage as he spoke. “What has gotten into you, Azriel? Are you really going to disobey me like this?”

Azriel argued back, trying to reason with his brother. “Rhys, what we are doing to this female is wrong. All signs point to her wanting just to be free, not to bring harm to your court. She has no desire to overthrow you, or whatever bizarre shit your brain has come up with. Killing her would be wrong.”

“SHE IS A FUCKING THREAT TO MY COURT!” Rhys suddenly bellowed, his loud yell hurting your ears as it echoed throughout the chamber. Without warning, Rhysand shoved Azriel against the wall, a loud crack sounding as the spymaster’s wings collided with solid rock. He groaned in pain, but did not fight back.

. “And I am ORDERING you to do your job and eliminate her.” Rhys growled at him, pressing his neck into the wall. “If you do not, then I–”

“Do it yourself, coward.” You spat with as much defiance as you could. You hated seeing Azriel let his brother overpower him, watching him give up because he thought he deserved punishment for disobedience. You did not necessarily see eye to eye with the shadowsinger on everything – hell, there were times where his bystanderism made him just as bad as the rest of his circle.

But you could not let this happen to you, because it was all your fault. It was because of you he was in this position – his job, his family, his life on the line because he was trying to help you.

Rhys froze, pausing whatever blow he was about to land on his spymaster before he slowly turned to gaze at you. “What did you just say?”

“I said…” Every word was an effort, but a surge of determination flooded through you. “Kill me yourself, you fucking coward. Do your own dirty work for once.”

Rhysand snarled, letting go of Azriel with a shove. He stormed over towards you and grabbed your throat, hand gripping it like talons. His face was pure rage, the ugly face behind the charming mask, the illusion finally shattered. “I’m going to enjoy this,” He spat in your face. “And when I’m done, I’m going to drag Nesta back here kicking and screaming if I have to. And she will meet this very same fate once I make her scream.”

Something deep inside of you snapped. A strange sensation coursed through your bones, filling your broken body with life once again. Your wrists no longer ached, your back was no longer stiff. You could barely hear over the roaring in your head as you pictured Nesta’s beautiful face in your mind. The ringing in your ears became so loud, and before the High Lord of the Night Court unleashed his dark mist upon you, the world went white.

*********************

Wake up.

It was not the snarling, arrogant voice of Rhysand that greeted you, but a soft female one. It was familiar yet foreign all at once, the sound of both one voice and a thousand altogether, blended like a strange melody. Your eyes fluttered open, and you were met with a familiar scene.

Your village.

The bodies had gone, only ash and dirt remaining where they once were. The buildings remained in ruins, like the memorial of an ancient city. Vines had begun to curl over the rooftops, circling down the sides of what remained of the houses that Hybern did not burn down. Flowers had blossomed across the earth, a stark contrast to the death and destruction that had occurred on the very same soil all those months ago. You glanced at your arms, which were free from the cuts and bruises inflicted upon you in the dungeon. You felt no pain.

“Do you remember what happened that day?”

You jumped as the female voice sounded behind you. Whirling around, you were met with a tall female. She had olive skin and warm brown eyes, with long brown hair that shone like the rays of the sun itself. Her face was kind but strong, and she wore sparling robes that almost blended in with her skin. She emitted an otherworldly glow, a kind of radiance that shook you to your very core.

“Who… who are you?” You stuttered.

The female smiled softly, her elegant hands clasped together. “I am Estelle.”

Your mind raced, putting together the pieces from Gwyn’s information. “Like… the mother goddess from the story? Jayana’s lover?”

She nodded. “A millenia later, and I find myself missing her every day. Much like you miss your Nesta.”

You took a steady breath, shaking your head. “Am I dead? Is this the afterlife?”

The goddess chuckled softly. “No, my child, you are not dead. You are here for a reason, one which requires an answer to my question. Do you remember this day?”

You paused, taking a few steps back and scanning the clearing. Your heart ached at the sight of it so empty, so quiet and lifeless. It held so many good memories, ones that were now tainted with bloodshed and violence. “Not all of it…”

“Do you ever have dreams, my child? Dreams where you’re back in this clearing, body seized with pain so violent it felt like you were dying a thousand times?”

You felt her presence follow you as you wandered aimlessly. “Yes…” You muttered. “Are you going to tell me that really happened?”

“Is that what you want me to tell you?”

You whirled around, facing the female once again. “Look, I don’t know what the hell is happening right now. Or at all, frankly. I’ve had enough riddles, can you please just tell me why I’m here?”

Despite your anger, Estelle showed no sign of hurt at your sharp words. There was sorrow behind her eyes, an understanding, one that you felt could see into every inch of your soul.

“You know my story, correct?” She said softly. You nodded.

“Good,” She continued. “When I absorbed the life forces of my fallen comrades, I felt each and every one of their deaths. It tore through my body like a riptide, and I was sure it was going to break me. I felt their rage, their fear, their anguish as they were slaughtered much like your village was. And after that day, I held a new power, one that allowed me to escape Hel and break the realms of the world apart.”

Your throat was dry, a dizziness overcoming you as the weight of her words dawned on you. Every dream you had about that day, every nightmare that ended in blinding light and pain was the exact experience that the goddess in the story had felt. “What are you saying?” Your voice was quiet as you asked a question you were pretty sure you knew the answer to.

“My child,” Estelle said. “The same thing happened to you. What you felt that day was the life force of everyone in your village flooding into your body. You felt each and every one of their deaths, and I am sorry you had to experience that. But it happened for a reason.” You weren’t sure you were breathing at this point. You rested your hands on your knees, trying to stabilise yourself. “Do you mean….” Your voice stuttered as you spoke. “Do you mean that… what I felt that day… what I felt afterwards…”

Your voice trailed off, but a warm hand on your shoulder reassured you.

“Yes. Your body now possesses the life force of hundreds of deaths, a power you can shape and wield however you choose.”

The feeling of the goddess’s hand on your shoulder struck something in you. All those times you felt that invisible touch, that reassuring presence that you thought you had imagined… You had thought it was maybe the Mother, but it dawned over you that it had been Estelle this whole time. Hers was the hand that held yours as you felt the deaths of your friends and family rip through you. Hers was the voice that helped you stay strong as Rhysand tortured you.

“This whole time…” You said breathlessly, her presence behind you like a warm light on your back. “I thought it was the Mother guiding me. But it was you.”

“My dear, we are one and the same.”

You whipped around to face the goddess. “You’re the Mother?”

Estelle simply smiled. “The war that took Jayana from me was centuries before Prythian was formed. After I escaped Hel, I wandered about the universe, utterly lost. Until I found this untamed world, unguided by any spirit. I did not ask to be named the Mother, but my true name had been lost in my years alone. So I became her, but I never forgot who I was. And I never will.”

You ran a hand through your hair, mind spinning with the overload of information. The story of Jayana and Estelle was not only true, but Estelle was the Mother herself, the being that watched over Prythian and was worshipped all over the land. Not only that, but you were living what Estelle had experienced hundreds and thousands of years ago.

“Why?” Was all you could ask, not knowing what to say.

“Not everything has to have an answer,” Estelle said, taking your hand in her own. “And I urge you not to expect to know the explanation for everything after this. But as for why you are here, I needed you to know the truth. You refused to believe your dreams, and chose to try and forget about them instead of asking yourself if they were really just imaginary. You possess the power of life now, just as I do. And you are in a terrible situation, my child. I ask that you recall my story, and use this power to find your way back to your mate.”

Even in this strange dreamy reality, time seemed to stop. Mate. The world itself seemed to spiral down upon you as the word replayed in your head over and over again.

Nesta was your mate.

“But… but Cassian is Nesta’s mate.” Was all you could sputter out. Something stirred in you, as if awoken by the realisation. It was like the bond, but stronger. Its presence in your chest was undeniable, reaching out as if it were searching for its other half.

“Fae folk can have more than one mate in some instances. Nesta Archeron has more than one, but Cassian is not one of them.”

“How–”

Estelle cut you off, more urgency in her voice than before. “I have already told you not to expect the answers to every question you have just yet. All will reveal itself in time. But Jayana and I were mates before I created the spell that allowed us to communicate. Therefore, in order for the magic to work, the spell had to be done between two mates. The daemati-like powers is the only thing that spell gives. Everything else you feel? That deeper connection to Nesta? It was already there in the mating bond. The spell had nothing to do with it.”

“Holy shit.” You gasped, blood racing. “So you’re saying… Nesta and I are mates, and that’s why the spell worked?”

She nodded. “And why Rhysand was not able to activate it. It can only be done so between two mates, no matter how powerful an outsider’s magic is. And your magic is also the reason he cannot get into your head. You are protected from all other daemati magic.”

“I’m going to pass out…” You muttered, taking a seat on the log a few feet away. Within seconds, Estelle’s, or the Mother’s, appeared beside you.

“Everything happens for a reason, my child. You received those powers for a reason. You came across my story for a reason. I didn’t have a chance to use the spell to find my way back to my mate, but you do. Seize it.”

That strange presence in your bones you had felt after you woke up from the massacre, it wasn’t imagined after all. Deep down, you had always known something otherworldly happened. But you had spent months pushing it aside, trying to ignore it out of fear of what it was. “This is all just happening inside my head, isn’t it?”

Estelle’s long robes rustled in the breeze. “Of course it is,” She said. “But that does not mean it’s not real. Across the universe, there are multiple realities. Multiple versions of oneself that may seem like different people, but are all variants of one another. With beings like me, that does not happen unless we make it so. You, (Y/N), are an incarnate version of me. It’s why this is happening in your head. I am not some external being that is inside your mind right now. I am you, and you are me.”

You were the Mother incarnate. Holy shit. It felt like a dream, but the presence beside you was too strong to be anything but real. “If people have variants of each other,” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady. “Does that mean….Nesta is Jayana?”

“In a sense,” Estelle responded. “The connection is not direct like with you and I. I saw your situation when Hybern attacked your village, and I kept you alive by having your body absorb the life force of the dead just like I had. And thus, you became a version of me. Nesta Archeron is her own person, but fate seems to like its parallels. I see much of Jayana in her. They both have the same temper, both represent a death goddess feared across all the lands.”

You frowned. “You mean you aren’t the decider of fate? I thought everything that happened was with your guidance?”

She laughed melodically, the sound like the song of birds on a spring morning. “No, my child. I decide many things, yes. But not all. None of us do, and we do not know what does.”

Estelle’s words echoed in your mind like a hurricane, threatening to overwhelm you. But it didn’t, because in a way, everything made sense. She had no reason to lie, even if this was just some bizarre dream or afterlife sentence. The way you felt that connection to Nesta, that force in your body that threatened to explode when you were angry, it all aligned with what the goddess beside you was saying.

“I cannot linger any longer,” Estelle murmured, covering your shaking hands with her own. “But remember how I got out of Hel. Find that power buried within you and rattle the stars with it. I will always be there alongside you, my child. You are never alone.”

You turned to say something, another hundred questions racing through your mind, but the world around you glowed as the Mother faded into the light. Within a few seconds, she had gone.

Once again, you looked at the clearing around you. The marks on the earth where the bodies had lain seemed to glow, calling out to you. A force deep within you sung in response, begging you to release it. As you poured over Estelle’s words, you recalled how the magic she absorbed allowed her to burst out of Hel and free herself.

Rattle the stars.

Her wording was deliberate. The Night Court was represented by the stars. You knew not the extent of your powers, but if your theory was right, you could make the entire Night Court feel your fury.

And so you closed your eyes, and let the clearing slip away as you let that power you’d been pushing down surge through you. It felt like you were falling, the clearing swallowing up as you descended into a void of light.

*********************

It could have been a millenia you were falling, or perhaps a second. As you let yourself go down into the base of whatever power lay within you, you felt memories crash into you all at once. Your mother’s smile as she presented you with her freshly baked scones. The feeling of Nesta’s lips as she kissed you for the first time. Lucien pressing a cold cloth to your head when you were sick. Eris holding you as you danced in the Hewn City. Rhysand’s smirk as he carved into you like a piece of meat.

The rage that boiled up as Rhysand’s face flashed through your mind quickened your plummet, your power bubbling up and ready to overflow. And so you opened your eyes.

A look of horror crossed Rhysand’s features as your eyes glowed with a bright white half a second before his magic went to strike you down. Dark mist collided with pure light as you exploded with a war cry of ancient times.

*********************

White hot rage was all you could feel as you unleashed yourself. Rage of the Spring Court souls whose life forces you had absorbed crying out with you for vengeance against the Night Court. Rhysand was thrown back, Azriel too as your light exploded. The walls around you crumbled, your chains shattering as everything around you came crashing down. The earth beneath your feet shook, the rock from the prison walls flying a hundred feet out to either side.

Wind ripped against your face as the mountain your cell had been inside crumbled away before you, creating avalanches of stone whose impact upon the ground sounded like thunder. Your blood sang, as if the life force within you was happy to be used. Surprisingly, Velaris was visible in the distance – you had thought your prison would be some remote mountain in Illyria. But perhaps Rhys knew that’s what everyone would assume, and keeping you closer to his home would keep you from being discovered.

Out of the shadows, Rhysand and Azriel appeared from the smoke, coughing violently. As they finally opened their eyes to look at you, pure wonder crossed their faces. You didn’t have to look down at yourself to know you were glowing with that same light Estelle had. Your gaze landed upon Azriel, who froze like a statue as it landed on him.

He didn’t cower, or scurry away. He simply gazed at you in awe for a few more moments before dipping his head, bowing before your presence. Rhys, on the other hand, got to his feet and snarled.

“What are you?” The High Lord hissed, gathering dark mist between his fingertips.

“I am Life,” The voice you responded with was not entirely your own – it was ancient and prophetic, with the authority of a god. “And your court has taken everything from me. You will pay for your crimes, High Lord Rhysand.”

Rhys made a vicious noise, talons of mist forming at his fingertips. You quickly realised that despite what you had just done, you had no clue how to defend yourself with your power. But before he could make the first blow, a ring of silver fire burst through the air and surrounded him, accompanied by a fierce roar from the sky. As you looked up, letting your eyes adjust to the bright daylight, you gasped at the sight before you.

Three dragons were flying towards the ruined mountain. One black, one silver, and one gold. The golden one was without a rider, circling the ruins around you and crying out. A familiar redhead was perched atop the black one, golden armour shining in the midday sun.

Eris, a golden flame atop a black fire breathing mount, had come to your rescue. But it was the silver dragon your eyes were drawn to, and that piece in your chest that had spent the last few weeks reaching out to Nesta crackled with excitement as you gazed upon the silver dragon’s mount.

Dressed in red, scaling armour was Nesta. Even from the ground, you could see her silver eyes glow in the same shade as the flames surrounding Rhysand. She had the wrathful look of a death goddess as she descended with her dragon, its silver wings creating hurricane like gusts of wind as it hovered before you and Rhys.

Nesta and Eris had come to save you.

You couldn’t help but glance at Azriel, who seemed sagged with relief. Your throat closed up with emotion – the spymaster knew Eris and Nesta would show up, and likely told them exactly where.

“Nesta.” Rhys growled, staring up at his sister-in-law with anger. “Leave.”

“Not without (Y/N).” Nesta’s voice was clear and strong, commanding Rhys like a queen commanding her subjects. Her dragon roared furiously at Rhysand, causing the High Lord to flinch.

“Dragons?” He sputtered, coughing as the smoke from the silver flames blew in his face. “What… how?”

“You have your surprises, Rhysand, and I have mine.” Eris piped up, landing his black dragon on the ground. The earth shook with its impact, sending more rocks crashing down the remains of the mountain.

Weariness took over your body, and you felt the light begin to fade as your magic retreated.

No no no, You cursed to yourself, trying to summon it again. But every muscle in your body ached from the sudden surge, unable to bear any more magic. You felt helpless again, trapped. Rhysand tried to take a step towards you, but scurried back as the ground once again shook, this time behind you.

The golden dragon had landed right behind you and let out a vicious roar towards Rhysand, its eyes glowing with fury. It stood protectively over your shoulder, towering over you menacingly in a way that promised certain death to anyone who made a move.

“Dragons are protective creatures,” Eris said. “I wouldn’t get any closer.”

“You’ve invaded my court,” Rhysand hissed. “This is an act of war.”

Eris chuckled. “Technically, you declared war first. We’re just finishing what you started.”

Before anyone could speak up, a horn sounded from the ridge in the distance. You whirled around, the motion making you slightly dizzy. But your eyes were clear as ever as the banners of the Spring Court appeared over the hill.

Armoured bodies marched in synch as soldiers approached on horseback, led by none other than Lucien. His cloak streamed behind him in the wind as he loped towards the scene of the wreckage. You nearly wept, not having seen him since he rescued you. From the look on his face, Lucien felt the same way.

A different type of roar was carried fast in the wind, and a mighty beast winnowed in front of the army and led the march. Its elk-like antlers and massive body sped ahead of his troops with his great stride, bounding towards you.

“What is going on here?” Rhysand demanded, unable to hide the slight panic from his voice.

“You started this war when you stole (Y/N) from Spring,” Eris said coolly, patting his dragon. “We’ve found it in our best interests to align with Tamlin over the matter, not you.”

The dragons did not react as Tamlin’s beast form landed right beside them, growling. Tears streamed down your face in relief – the High Lord you had looked up to, the male you had helped get back on his feet, had joined in on the effort to save you.

“Rhysand.” Tamlin growled in greeting.

“If this is some sort of revenge plan on Feyre–” Rhysand began, but was quickly interrupted.

“This is not about her,” The High Lord of Spring snapped. “This is about (Y/N). You have kidnapped and imprisoned an esteemed member of my court, which is considered an act of war. I do not want to shed blood, but we will if you refuse to let her return to me.”

“(Y/N) is a member of my court now.” Rhys responded, evening out his voice. You knew he was trying to put on his collected mask, but it was cracked and slipping. You snorted at the weakness of his voice, and the dragon behind you made a similar noise, as if it was mirroring you.

“Is she?” Lucien said, halting his horse next to Tamlin and looking at Rhysand with a hatred you didn’t know he had. “Because she is still registered as a member of Spring. You never opened any accounts or filed any legal documents with her name, so according to the law there is no proof that you have taken her in as an official member. Which means you have wrongfully imprisoned a member of another court.”

“This is absurd.” Rhys scoffed. “Get out of my court. Now. This is my business.”

“Hand (Y/N) over and we will.” Lucien responded. The armies of the Spring Court halted a few metres behind the dragons, hands clasping their weapons, ready for the order to jump into action.

Malice glittered in Rhys’ eyes. You knew he wouldn’t give up easily, not when you had already made him look weak once. “No.” He said firmly.

No sooner had the syllable left his lips did a band of silver fire wrap around his throat. He cried out in pain as the flame danced, licking at his skin but not quite burning. The silver dragon’s roar turned all eyes to Nesta, and your heart jumped at the sight.

Nesta had stood up on her dragon’s back, silver flames wrapped around her fingertips and arms. The clouds darkened above everyone, thunder rumbling in the distance as her eyes glowed brighter.

“You locked me up.” Nesta’s voice was cold as ice and sharp as steel. Nobody moved a muscle as it echoed alongside the eerie cries of the wind. “I helped you, dozens of times. And you locked me up because I didn’t cope with the war YOU dragged me into in the way you deemed acceptable. I was an object to you, one to use and exploit when it suited you only to lock me away again when you were done. None of your circle has had any respect for me, Rhysand. From the beginning, you have pitted yourselves against me because it’s easier to make me the bad guy than take a look at your own flaws and mistakes. You took my human life, my money, my house, and everything I had. I was never a person to you, just a problem.”

Even Tamlin had gone completely still as Nesta twisted her hand, causing another band of fire to appear. This time, it bound Rhys’ hands and ankles, forcing him to his knees. Black mist attempted to make its way through the fire, but was rapidly quenched. Rhysand’s magic was no match for Nesta’s fury.

“I am taking my life back, Rhysand.” Nesta said. “And you and my sister will have no say or part in it. Do not come after me, do not try and bring me back here. If you try, I will burn you to nothing but ash.”

Rhysand growled, thrashing against Nesta’s fire. “Azriel!” He barked. “Do something!”

The shadowsinger was pale faced, surveying the scene before him. “Let her go,” He said sternly. “This is a fight we cannot win.”

You found your feet again, standing up on shaky legs. You summoned more magic – your body protested, but you ignored it as a shimmering white gag wrapped around Rhysand’s mouth, joining his silver flames.

“This isn’t a debate.” You panted, the weight of your tattered, shredded dress making you want to collapse. But you relented. “I am leaving with them, and you will let me.”

Tamlin’s beast form crawled towards Rhysand, growling. “I was wrong to lock Feyre up, I know that.” He spat. “But don’t pretend like you didn’t do the exact same thing to Nesta and (Y/N).”

Rhys mumbled something through the gag, but was ignored. You felt a nudge, and the golden dragon was gently pushing its snout into you. You placed your hand on its nose, letting the beast inhale your scent.

“Zorzimril says it’s time to go.” Eris quipped, smirking down at you. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You nodded, glancing up at Nesta. Your mate.

Her eyes were locked on you, and a faint tear ran down her cheek. Tentatively, you reached towards the spell-made bond. Nesta?

I…. I can’t believe I’m hearing your voice. Nesta’s response came, and so did your tears. Your lungs shook as you inhaled deeply between sobs.

Me too.

There will be time to catch up later. Come, let’s leave.

The golden dragon had lowered its shoulder to the ground and looked at you expectantly. Tentatively, you climbed onto its back, grasping the horns down its spine as you settled yourself. From the view on dragonback, you surveyed the site you had been standing on. Rubble from the mountain was everywhere, the great peak crumbled into a small hill. The gags on Rhys had disappeared, but he remained kneeling, face twisted with anger. Azriel stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder and giving Eris a slight nod. Tamlin and Lucien stood side by side once again, united with a common cause. Your heart swelled as you recognized the faces of the soldiers they brought – many of them fae that you had taken into the manor after losing their homes to Hybern. You could see it in their eyes that they had come not just because they were ordered to, but because they wanted to help you like you had helped them.

“Let’s get out of this wretched court.” Eris sighed, winking at you.

“Wait.” You said as an idea popped into your head. “I have something I want to do first.”

Nesta smirked at you, knowing exactly what you meant.

*********************

You, Nesta, and Eris soared on dragonback through the Night Court, approaching the Inner Circle’s mountainside cabin. You relished in the cold air whipped across your face, having not felt fresh air in weeks. Zorzimril happily flew you alongside Nesta, making happy growling noises as the excitement of what you were about to do made you jittery.

As your dragons approached the cabin, they stopped, hovering in the air above it. You looked towards Nesta and Eris, and they gave you a nod. You shouted the command Nesta had taught you, and Zorzimril unleashed a torrent of flames upon the cabin. The scent of burnt wood filled the air as the structure was quickly engulfed. Within ten seconds, it was reduced to ash.

And so the three of you flew to each remote residence of the inner circle, making sure it was away from the city before burning it to the ground. With every palace set aflame you whopped with delight, causing Eris to chuckle. It was satisfying, watching their luxuries burn down while half of Illyria was starving and poor. The Inner Circle had fled to the River House, the one shared residence of theirs that remained intact due to it being in the city centre. You did not want to punish innocent people for the crimes of their leader, like Feyre had done to your court. No, this was proper vengeance. And you relished in it.

Despite your exhaustion and pain from the last few weeks, you let yourself cheer and cry out on the back of Zorzimril as you soared through the air between Nesta and Eris, headed for the thicket of the autumn trees in the distance, leaving the Night Court behind you.

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