#vanserra

Eris noted your frown, his amber eyes tracking your subtle movements and the wince that crossed your face. He leaned back in his seat, his gaze briefly flicking to your leg before returning to you. It was a habit he had developed over the past few weeks, or rather months if he was being honest with himself– taking note of your every expression, the words you said, your impressive intelligence and determination. For all his faults, Eris wasn't entirely heartless. He could see the toll the meeting was taking on you.

“We have one more week until the gathering with the other High Lord’s. There are still a few things we need to figure out. Mainly, how to convince them that Koschei is an actual problem. Helion isn’t an issue, neither is Thesan. Kallias is reluctant, although Vivianne might talk some sense into him. And don’t even get me started on Tamlin… Lucien is figuring that one out.” Rhys recapped what had happened since you’d last met. Eris nodded, although his curious eyes rarely strayed from you. He had caught on to the discomfort you tried to hide, the way you shifted in your seat for the umpteenth time, your face pinched with pain. He fought the urge to comment, to ask if you were alright, knowing better than to show such concern. Instead he shifted his attention to the discussion. Although his mind was only half in it.

“We're not done for today, but we'll take a break. We need to make the most of the short time we have left. We'll regroup in an hour.” Rhys decided and Eris let out a relieved huff, his eyes narrowing. He ran a hand through his auburn hair, rose from his seat and stretched his arms.

Bit by bit everybody left. You didn't even notice, too absorbed in the things you were writing in the leather notebook that looked like it had been through hell and back. Eris cast a glance your way as most people filed out of the room. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, noting the way you were lost in your writing, the old leather notebook open on the table in front of you. His curiosity piqued and he walked up to where you were seated, halting next to you. “That thing has definitely seen better days.” He said, shooting a condescending look towards your precious book.

You glanced up at him, only now realizing that everybody had left. You couldn't help the small huff of laughter that tumbled from you. “You're hurting its feelings. It's what's on the inside that counts.” You replied and wondered if this was the first time Eris had ever talked to you. Well, besides a few crude comments during the countless meetings.

Eris crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow at your response. He hadn't expected you to be witty, let alone talk back like that. “Touché.” He responded, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He looked you over, eyes flicking to your leg before moving back to your face. “You're limping.” He stated bluntly, his chin inclining towards your leg.

“Impressive observation. If this whole High Lord thing doesn't work out for you, you should ask Azriel if he needs more spies.” It was definitely rude to talk to him like that, you knew that, especially since he now ruled one of the courts. But over the time you’d been working together, you’d figured out that he had a good sense of humor. Dark and dry. You got up from your chair and closed the book, putting your pen atop it. Then you made your way towards the door. You would have liked to stay and finish your writings, but your leg was aching and screaming for some movement.

Eris snorted and shook his head at your sarcasm. He watched you and the way you moved your restricted limb. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he followed after you, his stride long and quick. “What happened to your leg?” He asked.

“An accident 400 years ago.”

Eris's eyebrow raised. 400 years was a long time to still be dealing with the consequences of an accident and he found himself wondering about the details. “What kind of accident leaves you with a limp like that?” 

The two of you exited the Town House together, walking along the streets of Velaris. You had wanted to spend the break in a cafe near the Sidra and without even thinking about it, Eris tagged along and you honestly didn't mind. “It's a long story. The short version is that I got burned. The scars are very... severe and they hinder my leg from moving properly. That's causing issues with my muscles, hence the pain.”

Eris walked alongside you, his hands casually shoved into the pockets of his no doubt carefully tailored trousers. He was still trying to puzzle you out, to figure out how someone with such a physical obstacle could be so sharp and defiant. “Sounds agonizing. What exactly happened?”

You'd reached the small cafe you frequented for your lunch breaks and greeted the waiter with a nod as you sat down at one of the tiny, round tables. “I'm not sure my sob story would be very interesting to you.”

Eris scoffed lightly, taking a seat across from you. He stretched his long legs out under the table and leaned back in his chair. “Try me.” He said, his voice nonchalant. Though deep down, he couldn't deny that he was indeed intrigued.

The waiter approached and you ordered two apple cinnamon teas, exchanging a few pleasantries with him, before he disappeared behind the counter again. “Alright, you asked for it.” You sighed and shifted in your chair, preparing yourself. “I grew up in the Illyrian Mountains. My mother is from Day Court and my father was an Illyrian warrior.” You saw Eris's eyes move along your shoulders, as if looking for something. “I rather take after my mom. I don't have wings.” You explained.

Eris nodded in understanding. “Go on. What happened to your leg?” He asked again, his tone more serious now.

“My father was a war-lord of one of the Illyrian camps, which granted my mother and I a certain amount of safety. I'm sure you've heard that females aren't treated particularly kindly in Illyria.”

Eris's expression darkened, and he nodded once more. He had heard the stories, and the thought of anyone treating a female the way the Illyrians treated theirs made him sick to his stomach. “Unfortunately, I have.” He muttered, his jaw clenched tightly.

“They came to our house in the middle of the night and they wanted to take my mother. I don't know what for, gods, I don't want to know what for. My father was a good male. He wanted me to be able to protect myself, he had secretly trained me, which was strictly forbidden in Illyria back then. I tried to defend my mother, but it was four of them and only two of us. I panicked and I grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter, attacking one of them. I merely managed a single cut on his upper arm, it was nothing. They were furious though. One of them grabbed a box of matches from the coffee table, two others grabbed me, the fourth held my mother back. He lit the match and held it to my pants.” You swallowed hard and paused. “It took me so long to take them off. Way too long. The damage was already irreparable by the time I managed to free myself from the burning fabric. They left us there. My mom tried to take care of the wounds, but it wasn't until the next morning that she was able to contact an old friend of my father's and he... brought us to Day Court.”

Eris cursed under his breath. Rage was burning through his veins, and his knuckles were white from clenching his fists. “The scars... they are very bad, then?”

You gave a nod. “My entire outer thigh, all the way down to my knee.”

Eris was silent for a moment, processing the depth of your injuries. His eyes flickered to your leg, hidden beneath the table, but he could've sworn he felt the phantom pain. He leaned forward in his chair, his voice quiet. “Is there no treatment that can help you?”

“Not that I know of. I've been to healers in Day Court, here in Velaris, even Dawn Court– the best ones there are. It won't get better than it is right now.”

Eris's jaw tightened as he heard the finality in your voice. He had always believed that there were possible remedies to almost everything. But perhaps the damage to your leg was simply beyond repair. “So... the pain. Is it constant?”

“I have good and bad days.”

Eris frowned, his gaze flickering over to your leg again, as if he could see through the table. He knew what it meant to live with pain– his father's torture would leave him aching and exhausted for days at a time. “And today is a bad day.” It wasn't a question, but a statement.

A small smile formed on your face. “I've had better ones.”

Eris leaned further back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He studied you in silence, his amber eyes scanning your face. He wanted to ask more, to understand how you managed to carry on when pain was a constant companion to you. But he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to pry too deeply into something so private. The waiter came with your order, placing two cups of steaming apple cinnamon tea in front of you. For a moment, Eris simply sat there, the warm scent of the tea and the sweet spices enveloping them. But he couldn't silence his curiosity forever. As you sipped from your cup, he finally spoke. “You mentioned that your father had trained you in secret. What kind of training?”

“Mostly defensive training, so I had at least somewhat of a chance in case I ever  got attacked.”

Eris nodded slowly, mulling over your reply. “It seems your father was more progressive than most Illyrians,” he remarked, taking a sip from his tea.

That coaxed a soft, warm smile to your full lips. “He sure was.”

Eris felt himself pause for a moment at the sight of your beaming. Something soft flashed over his expression, but it was quickly hidden behind a mask of indifference once more. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Did it help– the training? The skills passed down to you?” He asked.

“It didn't do much against four Illyrian warriors. But I like to think that I could fend off at least one male if I ever was attacked.”

Eris’s mind went back to your earlier story. The images of you attempting to fight off those Illyrians, the match being lit, the fire... it all played out in his head, his jaw once more clenching, almost painfully.

“What about you?” You said, letting the warm tea pour down your throat. “You used to be the general to the Autumn Court's armies before you became High Lord, right?"

Eris raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Been paying close attention during those meetings, have you?”

One of your shoulders pulled up to shrug. “That's my job, I suppose.”

You took another moment to savor your tea, then asked, “Is there a stark difference between the Illyrian fighting style and how your soldiers fight in Autumn?”

“Night and day.” He replied definitively. “Illyrians are good at fighting. They've dedicated their entire lives to it, after all. But they're... They're brutal. Unpredictable. Chaotic, even. The autumn army, on the other hand, fights as a unit. Each movement is precise, disciplined, practiced a hundred times until it fits together like a perfect choreography.”

You hummed thoughtfully and chewed on your bottom lip. “And you have fire powers?”

Eris raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your observations. He wasn't used to people taking an interest in him outside of his title and power, but there was something about you that made him want to indulge the conversation. “Fire, and a few other abilities, yes.” He paused. “Why do you ask?”

You inhaled deeply, taking another sip of your tea, buying yourself some time to debate if you should really ask him what was swirling around in your mind, then swallowed the warm liquid. Ever since you'd been attacked, there weren't just physical scars maiming your body, rendering you crippled and limiting your freedom to use your leg. No, the emotional scars weigh just as heavy on your soul. Mainly the panic that rose in your chest and made it hard to breathe whenever fire was near you. Sitting by a crackling hearth had become impossible, the mere thought of it already causing your throat to tighten. You had been to many healers, asked for assistance, but nothing had helped. But maybe...

“Do you think you could help me?” You blurted out before you could talk yourself out of it again. After all, he was a High Lord now. Asking anything of him was technically absolutely out of line.

Eris looked taken aback for a moment, surprised by your sudden question. But as he studied your features– the hint of hope in your eyes, that nervous frown on your face– he realized the seriousness of the situation. “Help you? With what?” He asked, his voice softer now.

“I'm scared of fire.” You admitted quietly. “Very scared. Ever since... the attack.”

Eris nodded slowly. He couldn't imagine the trauma you must've endured as a result of such an incident. “I see.” He said, a hint of remorse in his voice.

You stared at each other for a moment, then you quickly shook your head. “You know what, it's rude of me to even ask this of you, I'm sorry. You must have at least a thousand better things to do.”

Eris felt a tug of disappointment as you immediately began backtracking. No one had ever opened up to him like that before. No one had ever asked him for help with something so deep, so personal. And for some reason unbeknownst to him, he desperately wanted to help you. “There's no need to apologize.” He said, tone firm. “I'll help you.”

“Really?”

Eris nodded. His eyes were fixed on your face, trying to gauge your reaction in the dim lighting of the cafe. A small smile tugged on his lips and he crossed one leg over the other, folding his hands in his lap. “I can make time once a week. I'm usually less busy on Sundays. I have a small cabin close to the Forest House. We'll be undisturbed there.”

Your eyes widened. “That's- that's very generous of you. You don't have to go through so much trouble though, if it's too much of a hassle I'll-”

Eris cut you off with a snort, rolling his eyes at your flustered response. “Don't do that, it's annoying. I said I'll help you, and I will. There's no need to keep questioning it.”

“Okay. Fine.” You paused. “Thank you…”

“Don't mention it.” Eris said, the tone of his voice strangely kind. There was a moment of silence as he studied you. You looked vulnerable, so open and honest. It stirred something in him, tugging at his chest. He cleared his throat, breaking the quiet and moved in his seat. “Now finish your tea.” He said, motioning towards your cup.

On your way back to the Inner Circle meeting, Eris and you had a lively discussion about the fact that you wanted– no, needed– to tell Rhysand about your arrangement. Eris's opinion was clear; keep this a secret, don't tell anyone. You knew it wasn't because he needed to hide it, he didn't have to hide anything anymore since Beron died and he took the throne. It was more that he was embarrassed that the rest of the Inner Circle knew that he was showing you kindness, made an effort even. And although he'd never admit it, you simply figured that much. But you weren't going to sneak around behind your High Lord's back, especially not with another High Lord he was actively working with. Eventually, just before you reached the River House, you had won.

A day later, right after you had finished your research for the day, you hurried to Rhysand and Feyre's home again.

Rhys was in his office when you knocked on the study door, sorting through the large amount of paperwork that always seemed to pile up on his desk. He raised his head at the sound of your knock and a small smile appeared on his face when he realized who it was. “Come in.” He called, placing the papers he was holding aside.

“Elain let me in, but I can come back later if you're busy.”

Rhys shook his head. “No, no, don't worry. I was just finishing up something, I've got time.” He said, gesturing for you to come in and close the door behind you. He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands in his lap, fixing you with a friendly smile. “What can I do for you?”

Fumbling with your hands you walked further into the room and sank into one of the two leather chairs before his desk. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Rhys raised his eyebrows slightly at your nervous demeanor, instantly concerned. He leaned forward, elbows propped on his desk as he studied you. He was quiet for a moment, just observing you, before he spoke, voice gentle. “Alright. What is it?”

Straightening your spine, you told him exactly what had happened the day prior. How you and Eris ended up having tea together during the meeting's break, how you had told him about your injury, the attack and how eventually you asked him to help you overcome your fear of fire. Everybody in the Inner Circle knew very well how suffocating that fear had been for you.

Rhys listened in silence as you explained everything. His face was a careful mask, hiding any signs of what was going on inside his head. For a few moments, he sat there completely still when you finished speaking, contemplating what he had just heard. But his expression softened somewhat as he spoke again. “You trust him?” he questioned, though not unkindly.

A snort. “Gods, no. But whenever I tried confronting my fears with the healers, it never worked out, because I was scared the flames would get out of control, catch onto something. Eris controls fire. I think it would help me to know that he can wield the flames however he pleases– there's no real danger. My fear is crippling me worse than my leg and I can't– I can't do this for the rest of my life.”

Rhys studied you for another moment, noting your frustration. He thought back to the years you had spent trying to deal with your fear, how hard you had worked. Rhys knew what it was like to live with trauma, and he wanted to support you the best way he could. “If you think it'll work, you have my approval. But I want you to be careful.”

A relieved huff shot from your lungs and you chuckled. “Thank you.”

It wasn't over that quickly, though. Rhys kept you in his office for two more hours, going through everything that could possibly go wrong. You were going to meet with Eris every Sunday. If anything was even slightly off, you had to promise to contact Rhys mind to mind immediately and you were not to talk about a single Inner Circle matter– as if you were needed to be told that. You weren't Cassian, after all.

A few days later, come Sunday, you were nervously rummaging around in your apartment. You had been ready to go for the better part of thirty minutes already, waiting for Eris to come pick you up. He was going to winnow you straight to the cabin he had mentioned. You told yourself your anxiety was due to the fact that you were about to be confronted with fire, but maybe it was the fact that Eris was the one trying to help you out. Eris Vanserra– High Lord of Autumn Court. Why he had agreed to help you at all when he surely had an upheaval of work awaiting him in his new position was beyond your comprehension. But you weren't going to complain. Finally, a knock. 

Eris was surprised by how nervous he felt, considering the only thing they would be doing today was work through your fear of fire. But something about being alone with you in that cabin made him feel strangely anxious. He wasn't afraid exactly, he wasn't afraid of anything, but there was some kind of uncomfortable flutter in his chest. Then, he was annoyed with himself for feeling that way at all. He was a High Lord now, there was no reason to lose his composure over something so… trivial. He shifted from foot to foot. The door swung open and you gave him a smile that radiated more warmth than any flame he'd ever summoned. The sage green linen top you were wearing, with sleeves that only reached your elbow, was so tight against your torso it showed off every single curve. The shirt disappeared in your black, flowy pants and Eris had to swallow and use every trick in the book of composure to not ogle you down. “Hey…” You greeted.

“Hello.” Eris replied, his nostrils flaring as he tried to pick up the scent of your soap, or whatever it was that smelled so good. Jasmine, rose and something almost powdery he couldn't place. 

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him and you prayed to the Mother that he couldn't tell. The beige shirt, sleeves rolled up, the muscles in his forearms rippling... “Ready to go?” You asked quickly.

Eris nodded in confirmation, clearing his throat. It was only due to the fact that he was so well trained that he didn't do a double take at the curve of your hips. “Let's go.” He said, his voice sounding unusually stiff.

You locked the door behind you and Eris wasted no time reaching for your hands to winnow you to Autumn. 

The cabin was indeed close to the Forest House. A small, wooden building, right next to a clear stream, a porch surrounding it and you wondered how often he sat here now when he needed to get away from the massive estate you could see a bit farther off in the distance, looming over the land that was once so cruelly ruled. Eris still had a long way to go, many things to change and wrongdoings to fix, but he had been working on it. Tirelessly, it seemed, if the paleness of his elegantly handsome face was any indication. The cabin was as tiny inside as it looked from the outside. A cramped living room with two soft leather couches across from each other, a hearth in between them, unlit, you noticed and speculated if he left it like that in consideration of your fear. The plush, wine red carpet that lay over the creaky, old, timber floor boards looked so fluff your toes wriggled in your shoes as you imagined stepping on it. There was a tiny kitchen nook right next to the living room and the other two doors most likely led to a bath chamber and a bedroom. This wasn't just any place, you realized when you saw a wooden shelf that was stocked with countless trinkets– this was a sanctuary. A private retreat.

“Not much, I know, but the Forest House can be rather…” He paused when he searched for the right word. “Noisy.”

“No, it's– it's really nice. I like it.”

Eris let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Had he actually been nervous about your reaction? He pushed the thought away. His golden eyes glanced towards the hearth. “Do you want me to light it?”

A hard swallow down your dry throat, your heart thundered, breaths quickened. “I'd rather leave it like this, if it's alright.”

Eris nodded once at your reply, his eyes still fixed on the hearth. “No fire then.” He gestured for you to sit down on one of the couches and you followed the silent command. “We should talk about a few things first, before we begin.”

“Sure.”

Eris took the seat across from you, draping one leg over the other. “First and foremost, I want you to know that you have complete control over everything that we're doing here. Whatever happens– it will be up to you. If you suddenly decide that you don't want any of it to happen, it won't happen. Understood?”

Wide eyes stared at him, brows knitted in surprise. It was quite thoughtful of him to tell you this beforehand, make this a secure, neutral space between you two. Your pace. Your rules. Nothing to worry about. You breathed out evenly and gave him a nod.

“Secondly, I don't want you to hold back. Not with anything.” He continued. “If something bothers you, you're going to tell me. If you don't like something, if you need to take a break, if you're getting scared– I want you to tell me. The same goes for me. I don't suffer fools, so don't keep anything to yourself just to spare my feelings or something stupid like that.”

Another nod and you hoped you didn't look as dumbfounded as you felt. It seemed that Eris had actually prepared for this. And not just scarcely, no, he'd done a really good job. Or maybe he was simply more skilled in dealing with trauma than you'd expected and something in your darkened when you remembered Cassian telling the Inner Circle about Beron's torture methods to get information out of Eris. A shiver ran down your spine and you thanked the Mother, like you had so often these past few weeks, that the bastard was finally dead. “Thank you. For all this.”

Eris gave a slight bow of his head in acknowledgement. “One last thing.” Seriousness laced his tone. “Not a single word of what happens in here is to be discussed with anyone. What happens in this cabin stays between us two. I will not gossip about you and I expect the same in return.”

Don't talk to the Inner Circle about these private moments was what he really meant and you weren't offended. He was right to ask this of you, make sure it was an agreement. You worked for Feyre and Rhysand, after all. And Eris had to protect his position as High Lord, his court. Doing any of this with you was already a huge risk for him and it still baffled you that he hadn't laughed right in your face when you'd asked him for help. “Of course. You have my word.”

Eris relaxed in his seat. “Good. Then here is how I think we should start.” He began. “Small, isolated fires.” He got up from the couch, walked over to the kitchen nook and took out three crystal classes that looked way too expensive for the cabin they were in. “Whiskey or wine?” He asked.

“Whiskey.” You mumbled, watching him intently.

“Good choice.” Eris said, taking out a bottle of whiskey from a cupboard, pouring the liquor into two of the glasses. He handed you the other one, then grabbed the third and put it on the coffee table between you with the bottom up. “I can summon a small, contained flame in there. Do you want to try?”

Shaky hands lifted the brim of the crystal glass to your lips and you took a good mouthful, hoping to calm your rapid pulse. “Yes, let's try it.”

With a flick of his fingers, Eris summoned a small, yellow flame that swirled in the glass on the table, its movements almost hypnotic. Involuntarily, you flinched and glanced at Eris, your fingers fidgeting in your lap, picking at your cuticles– a horrible nervous habit. 

Eris met your gaze, his eyes watching you with silent attention, noting your discomfort. He didn't want to push you too much too fast and scare you away. But the first step had been taken and you were still sitting there, not running. A spark of genuine relief flashed through his eyes. It made him feel... strangely protective. “How are you holding up?”

“It's okay. I think you could make it a bit bigger.”

Eris nodded. “Alright.” He said, his voice quiet. He focused his attention back on the glass and the flame inside began growing. The fire reached for the edges of the crystal, slowly expanding. You blinked at it several times, trying to suppress that uncomfortable, tight feeling rising up your chest. His eyes were fixed on your face now, watching you closely. It was clear that you were struggling, that it was hard to push through. For a while, the two of you stayed like that. Every now and then you glanced over at Eris, when looking at the flame became too much. He was an anchor of security that allowed you to wander off a little bit further, inch by inch, without feeling like you were losing your grip. Eventually, he asked, carefully and without any rush, if he could take the glass off of the flame and you allowed it. Relief cursed through Eris when you nodded your consent. He carefully picked up the glass, taking it off of the flame and placed it back onto the table. “You're doing a good job.” He said quietly, making sure that his voice conveyed how sincere the praise was.

“Isn't that hot?” You quickly asked.

Eris shook his head. “If I summon it, I control it completely. I decide what temperature it burns at and I control its intensity.”

Eyes flickered in tact with the flame in front of you and your clammy hands dug into the fabric of your pants. A sliver, like an insect crawling over your skin, rose all the way up to your neck and your chest tightened. Your breathing quickened slightly and your eyes searched for Eris again, looking for something to ground you. 

Eris met your glance and held your gaze. He felt something strange tug at his heart. This was only a small flame and yet you were clearly struggling, fighting against the memories that were flooding your mind. He resisted the urge to reach out for your hand, but leaned forward a bit. “Keep looking at me. Just ignore the fire.”

And you tried, but the flame seemed to be getting bigger and bigger, although you knew Eris wouldn't raise the flame's height unless you absolutely asked for it. You felt your pulse hammer against your throat, your heart constricted and you weren't certain if you were tasting smoke on your tongue. Another risky glance at the flame. Then your breaths became uneven, ragged, fingers gripping your flowy trousers, your ears started ringing– “Turn it off…” You whimpered and Eris didn't dare to hesitate when he heard the strain in your voice. The flame sizzled and sniffed out in an instant. The cabin plunged into silence, not a single sound except for the frantic huffs leaving your lungs. “Thanks.” 

He kept his eyes on you, seeing you struggle to pull yourself back together. “How are you feeling?”

“I think I need a moment.” Leaning back on the soft couch, you placed a hand on your stomach and carefully breathed against it, stabilizing.

Eris kept silent, watching you work through the lingering effects of your fear, before saying, “There's a few different breathing techniques that I think could help you calm yourself. Should I show you one of them?”

A grateful nod as you lifted your head from the backrest of the couch, looking at him mildly surprised. Eris got up and sat down beside you, patiently showing you how to breathe and focus your mind on something else than the stifling panic. It took a while, but eventually you found a rhythm and your heart rate decreased. You relaxed on the soft cushions behind you and tilted your head to the side, looking at him. “Why do you know this?”

Once your breathing had slowed enough, Eris settled into the couch a little more and looked over to you with a raise of his eyebrows. “I read a book about it once.” He said nonchalantly.

“Liar.” A grin spread over your face.

He blinked repeatedly and the ghost of a smirk appeared on his lips. “What?”

“The right corner of your upper lip twitches when you lie.” You stated. “It's a dead giveaway.”

“Bullshit.” He said, half-amused.

A chuckle that eased the rest of your barely avoided panic attack sounded from you and you sat up straight, turning your body to face him. “Yes. It does. You want me to prove it?”

Challenge gleamed in Eris’s eyes. “Go right ahead.”

You wiped the damp palms of your hands on your trousers, scarred leg hanging off the couch, the other casually tugged to your body on the cushiony seat. “Alright.” You cleared your throat, tugging some stray hairs behind both ears, rolling your shoulders to ease your muscles. “Favorite food?”

“Apple pie.” He said, watching you intently. There was no way that you would be able to tell that he was lying, right?

“Lie.” You said in a heartbeat and teased, “Try a little harder, will you? Summer or Winter?”

His face remained straight, completely neutral as he replied. “Winter.”

“That's the truth.”

Eris narrowed his eyes a little. “Are you just guessing?”

“No!” You gasped. “Okay, let's try a harder one. Tell me something embarrassing.”

Eris’s forehead wrinkled, clearly doubting your abilities. “Alright. Embarrassing.” He repeated. After a brief pause, he continued. “I used to wet my bed until I was eight.”

A pause and you tilted your head, observing his face closely. You leaned in,  squinting as your eyes flickered over his face and lingered just a moment longer on his lips, actually finding that familiar tell-tale twitch. “Lie.”

Eris narrowed his eyes, moving forward as he studied your face. The faint smell of your soap was messing with his thoughts. “That was the truth.” He said, voice low as his eyes dropped to your mouth, his upper lip twitching ever so slightly once again.

“No, it wasn't.” You whispered and only noticed how close the two of you had gotten when you felt his warm breath mix with yours.

Eris's eyes dropped down to your lips again, there was no way to stop it, and he swallowed hard, his chest tight. Gods, you were so close. Near enough for him to touch. And he wanted to, so badly. 

Before a coherent thought could form in your infatuated mind, you finally closed the distance, and softly kissed the corner of his mouth that so easily gave him away. 

Eris stopped breathing. His muscles clenched, his stomach twisted into knots he'd been tying since the first time he saw you. Because you– you had been all he could think about. A satisfied groan left his throat, as all his willpower and self control, carefully trained for centuries, was failing him. As that chaste kiss lingered on his mouth, you slowly started realizing what you'd done. “Sorry…” You mumbled and pulled away.

Wild desperation crossed Eris's eyes and he reached out, cupping your cheek, preventing you gently from retreating. “Don't apologise.” He breathed and closed the distance again, finally feeling your lips fully on his. And the Mother be damned, if that wasn't the answer to every question his heart had been asking these past few months.

You snaked your arms around his neck, threw your insecurities and all caution out the window and let yourself sink into the kiss– into him. And despite the fact that he was the epitome of fire and flame, you felt safe. Saver than you had in a really long time. The kiss had just begun to deepen, Eris's tongue brushing yours, when a knock on the cabin door made you pull apart again. Eris cursed under his breath. “Leave it.” He said, fixing you with a look that indicated he was considering whether he should just toss whoever had dared to disturb them into the stream flowing behind the cabin. Your hands wandered over his back then back up until you cupped his neck. Another chaste kiss, so soft your heart clenched painfully. But the aggravating noise pierced the room once again and you sighed. “I'm going to kill whoever is behind that door.” He whispered against your lips and you chuckled.

Eris ran a hand through his tousled hair and got up, taking three strides towards the door and opened it with a grunt that almost sent the guard who looked at him running. “High Lord, I– I'm sorry to interrupt.”

“This better be a matter of life and death.” He hissed, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“The– uhm, I was told to bring you to the war room, there's been–” The young male shifted uncomfortably, he'd probably just finished his training and was unlucky enough to be tasked with fetching Eris. “One of the villages has started a protest, the unrest is getting out of hand, there's already been two deaths accounted for. The council is waiting, your Highness.” 

Eris swore again and ran a hand over his face. “I'll be there in a minute.” He said through gritted teeth and when the guard made no move to leave, he snapped. “That was a dismissal. Go.”

Straightening your top, you'd already gotten up from the couch, fidgeting with your hands in front of you, unsure of what the kiss you'd shared would mean. To you, it had irrevocably confirmed what you'd long suspected– you felt something for him. But to Eris... You had no idea. 

Eris slammed the door shut, cursing the bad timing and took a few deep breaths, composing himself. He turned to face you, an apologetic half-smile ghosting over his lips. “I need to meet with my advisors.” He said, his eyes fixed on you.

Nervously, you mirrored his expression. “Sure, go ahead. I'll communicate with Rhys, he can pick me up.”

“No.” He walked back to you, face serious and took your hands, gently untangling them and holding them between his own. He was trying to find the right words, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. “I…” He began, then paused. “Stay. The meeting shouldn't take too long. Stay and wait for me.”

His words sounded like a plea, not far from begging, but still you asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He answered quickly, bringing his face a little closer to yours. “I'll be back as quickly as I can. So... please, just... stay. And I promise that when I come back we'll talk. Okay?”

“Alright. I'll wait.”

Eris let out a brief breath, his eyes searching your face for something, anything that would indicate doubt, but he came up empty handed and only then did he lean in, stealing one last kiss. All too soon, he pulled away. “I have to go.” He murmured, his thumb tracing gently over your knuckles.

Chuckling, you shoved him softly and said, “It's fine. Go. I'll be here when you come back.”

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he let go of you and walked back towards the door. “Make yourself at home. There's food in the kitchen, look around– whatever you want.” He said over his shoulder.

For a moment you just stood there after he'd left. Eyes darting around the room. And all that had happened in the past few hours came crashing down on you. Eris– you'd kissed him, he’d kissed you back... The undeniable truth that there was something there. No way had he not felt it, too. Gods, there was indeed a lot to talk about later. 

First, you inspected the shelf that stood tall next to the hearth. Lots of trinkets were scattered upon it. A framed picture of him, just born, and who you assumed was his mother. Several chunks of amber, insects enclosed in them and you scowled when you saw a particularly big one that contained an awful looking spider. Fingers traced over the spines of the books in the shelf beside it and you smiled to yourself when you found a few titles you owned as well. You considered eating something, but your nervousness didn't allow you to. So you grabbed a book that looked interesting and slumped back down on the couch, grabbing a woolen blanket from a small basket beside it, draping it over your legs. 

You were completely engulfed in the book, already through a good third of it, when the front door of the cabin opened and your eyes shot up from the pages and met Eris's. He leaned against the doorframe, eyes darting over you as you looked up at him and for a moment he just stood there and watched, taking you in. The sight of you on his couch, covered in a blanket, a book balanced in your lap... He could get used to coming home to that. With a light thud, you closed the book and put it on the coffee table in front of you. You leaned against the backrest of the couch, softly smiling over at him. Eris pushed off of the doorframe and slowly walked towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. The meeting had been long. Long and excruciatingly tiring. And all he had been able to think about during it, was the taste of your lips.

“How was it?”

Eris slowly sank into the couch beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Dull.” He said dryly, a corner of his mouth quirking up. “Boring. Irritating. Exhausting.”

You chuckled and rested your head on his shoulder. “Did you find a solution?”

Eris relaxed, the tightness in his chest easing a little. “For now.” He said, tilting his head slightly to look at you. He brought up a cautious hand, slowly brushing a lock of your hair aside with his fingertips. Gazes met and the golden amber color in his eyes shimmered brightly. For a moment, he looked at you intently, searching through the depths of your eyes, and then his thumb brushed over your cheek and jaw, down to your chin, tilting your head a little further towards him. And before either of you could think twice about it, his lips gently met yours again. Every fiber of your being burned for him and you melted as your mouths softly found a rhythm. Eris's free hand moved from the couch to your waist. He tugged you closer, his tongue licking over your lips, asking for more. The moment you permitted him entry, Eris tasted, savored, enjoyed. Gods, this was it. This was what he'd been waiting for.

When your mind threatened to stop functioning properly, you pulled away, just enough to speak, and said, “We wanted to talk.”

Dazed from kissing you, Eris just murmured an agreement in response, still leaning in for another kiss before he remembered himself. “Yes. We wanted to talk.”

“I don't even know where to start.”

Eris swallowed. “We both know there's... something there.” He said, his voice quiet and even. “That something sparked earlier, but it's been there for quite a while. I–” He paused, searching for the words, running a hand over his face.

With a deep breath, he continued, pinning you down with a serious look. “I need to know what you want and where you want this to go. Because I'm not doing this half-assed.”

Heart thundering, you inhaled. For months, this had been all you ever dreamed of hearing. All this time pining after him. And yet– your insecurities about your leg… “I want you.” You said quietly. “I've wanted you for a long time. It's the second part I'm unsure of. Where this could go…”

His brow furrowed slightly in confusion and he reached for your hand. He brought it up to his mouth and pressed a kiss against the back of it. “What's holding you back?” He questioned carefully.

“My leg, Eris, it's–” 

Understanding flashed over his face and he squeezed your hand, shaking his head. “That's... what's bothering you?” He asked slowly. “You're having doubts, because of your limp?”

“There are quite a few things I can't do. You need to be aware of that. There's no sugarcoating it– I'm... crippled.” You replied, the words bitter on your tongue. Admitting this insecurity so openly to someone– to him, was just as much freeing as it was frightening.

Eris grabbed both of your hands now, taking them into his own, drawing circles on your knuckles. “I know that you have limitations.” He said, looking dead serious. “But that doesn't matter to me. That won't matter to me. I've seen you fight, with skill and determination. Seen you stand up for those weaker than you. Seen you be kind and strong and so Gods damned brave. You're not a liability. You are not a cripple. And you are certainly not a burden.”

You sighed shakily, eyes burning with unshed tears. “The scars on my leg are horrifyingly ugly. I can't walk properly. Gods, I can't even do certain things in the bedroom. It's not–”

Before you could finish the sentence, Eris silenced you with a quick kiss. His forehead pressed against yours and he closed his eyes. “You're beautiful.” He murmured before pulling away to look at you. “Absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful. Your scars and limp are not ugly. And there's a variety of things we can do in the bedroom, just... trust me.” He said the last words with a smirk that had your core tighten instantly and you huffed a small chuckle, one tear escaping your eye. Eris raised a hand, wiping away the droplet with his thumb, brushing back some strands of hair which had fallen into your face. “No matter what you might think of yourself, I will tell you that you are gorgeous until you believe it. And I'll make sure to prove it. Again and again and again.”

Nervously, you nodded, a sparkle returning to your eyes. “I feel like... there's a line we need to draw though. You're High Lord of Autumn, I'm a member of Rhysand and Feyre's Inner Circle. I keep secrets for them, for our court and I will continue to do so. Things I can't even tell you.”

With a low hum of agreement, Eris nodded. “I wouldn't dare ask you to break that trust.” He murmured, eyes flickering across your face. “And there are things I will have to keep from you, too. For both of our sakes.”

“I figured.” You said and smiled softly. It wasn't ideal, you knew that. “As long as we never lie to each other. No matter what. Complete honesty. And secrets only for matters of politics and court-business.”

Eris's hand moved from your cheek down to your neck, his fingers curling around the back of it. His thumb brushed over your skin. “Then you and I are in full agreement.” He said, a ghost of a smirk still tugging up his lip.

“Seems like it.” A grin brightened your face, a slight, pink flush lacing your cheeks. But something still weighed heavy on your heart. “Will we have to keep it a secret?”

Eris looked at you intently, gaze flickering over your face. “I don't care what anyone else might think.” He said seriously. “But I meant it when I said that I don't want to half-ass this. I want a home and a family and I've wanted that for a long time. I'm done hiding.”

And as you eyed the sadness etched deeply into his features, from centuries of suffering, you understood. This male, who had given his entire life to save his court. Who had painted himself to be a monster, obeyed every single command of his cruel father, endured his torture and hatred, only to be here– to be High Lord, make a better place for his people. This male, who had never granted himself anything he truly wanted… No, you weren't going to deny him that. Didn’t want to deny him that. “Good. Then we won't hide.”

Relief washed Eris clean of his worries, his regrets and his guilt. At least for this very moment. And for once, he felt hope; hope for a life he actually wanted. With you. He leaned forward again, capturing your mouth in another kiss. Softly, slowly. While the kiss deepened, you thought about the distaste you had for him when you'd first met. The months that followed. The planning and scheming to get rid of Beron and the slivers of Eris's true personality that he gave out unknowingly and ever so rarely. You cherished them, remembered them and kept them like little treasures. And it felt like this, right now, was exactly where you were supposed to be. As if every step you'd ever taken had led you here. You smiled against his lips.

Eris pulled back just enough to pull you against his chest, arms wrapping around you and squeezing you gently. He buried his nose into your hair, breathing in your familiar scent. Gods, this– this felt like a dream. One he never wanted to wake from. With a deep breath, Eris murmured quietly, “Stay tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

With one hand, he gently brushed some of your hair aside, exposing your neck. His lips ghosted over your pulse point, before leaving a hot trail of kisses along your throat. “Positive.” He whispered, his breath scorching against your skin.

Sunrays tickled your face, coaxing your heavy eyelids to open. It took you a moment of utter confusion, before you realized that you were still in Eris's Autumn Court cabin. He wasn't next to you and when you leaned up on your elbows and looked around the small bedroom, you didn't see him either. Clatter sounded from the kitchen and you sunk back into the pillow, sighing. Nothing had happened last night. Well, except for Eris and you figuring out that you were pathetically in love with each other. And you'd kissed. A lot. But that had been it. It was all still so new and fragile and after you'd both laid your feelings bare, it just hadn't been the right moment to take it any further. Eris had given you one of his shirts to sleep in and the smell surrounded you like the warmest blanket. It had probably been the most vulnerable moment of last night's confessions for you. Eris had given you a moment in the bathroom to change and it took you several minutes and the breathing exercises he'd taught you before, until you had dared to come out. The shirt he had given you covered your entire upper body, the hem ending in the middle of your thighs, revealing half of your burned skin. The scar reached from your knee, all the way up your leg. The Mother had only shown you mercy by keeping the marred skin on the outside of your thigh. Eris had been nothing but kind about it. He had taken your hand, led you to the bedroom and he'd asked if he could see. So you’d shown him, had allowed him to lift the shirt up and take in the entirety of the carnage the Illyrian attack had left you with. Then he’d kissed your leg, starting from the top and not stopping until he'd reached your ankle. No more needed to be said and your heart felt a few stones lighter when you fell asleep in his arms. His scent filled your nostrils as you inhaled deeply, the bedroom door opening carefully while you snuggled further into the comfortable mattress. Eris held a steaming mug in each hand and a tired, but happy smile tugged on his lips, when he spotted you awake. 

He paused for a moment to take in the sight of you in his bed, his shirt and the soft morning light that made everything around you appear soft and hazy. “Good morning, sweetheart.” He said quietly and walked over to you, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and handing one of the mugs to you.

“Morning.” You mumbled, a sleepy smile spreading over your face. Sweetheart. The pet name caused your heart to stutter for a second.

Eris sipped from his mug, placing it on a bedside table. “Sleep well?” He asked, lifting a hand, running it over your cheek.

You nodded and sat up enough to take a sip from the tea. “Very.”

“Good.” He didn't say much more, but placed his mug aside and moved up to the headboard of the bed, leaning back against it, stretching his legs out. He patted his thighs invitingly.

Putting your mug beside Eris's, you shook your head. “I can't straddle you. My skin, the scars– my leg doesn't bend like that.” You said, sadness and embarrassment lacing your tone. But he'd already seen the extent of your injury, there was no use in pretending.

A pained expression flashed over Eris's face and he reached out, gently pulling at your hand until you gave in and moved closer to him. With one arm slung around your waist, he pulled you into the space between his legs, his front pressed against your back, wrapping both arms around you. “Is this better?” He asked, pressing a kiss against your shoulder.

All you could do was nod twice as tears formed in your eyes. You didn't even know why you were crying. But you assumed it was partly out of happiness and partly because he was so accepting and kind. And you knew right at that moment, that if anybody ever dared to accuse him of being a monster again, you'd rip them to shreds. You leaned your head back against his chest, contently closing your eyes. 

Both of his hands rubbed up and down your arms, caressing you through the soft fabric of his shirt. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply, letting the sweet scent of you flood his senses and the warmth of your body seep into his. He'd never, ever been this close to someone before. This vulnerable. And for the first time in his life, he wanted it to stay that way for eternity. A strange little flutter went through his gut at the realization of how absolutely head over heels he'd fallen for you. When your tears had dried on your cheeks, you nuzzled further into him and asked, “Are we still going to work on my fire problem?”

Eris pressed a quick kiss to your neck. And another one to your cheek. “Yes.” He said, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. “Yes, we are.”

“Good.” You looked up and returned his kisses with a lingering one on the bottom of his jaw. “I hate to say it, but I need to get back to Velaris. I promised the priestesses to help them with some research in the library today.”

He didn't want to let you go. Wanted to keep you here, tucked into his arms and in his bed until he got his fill. But that would be a selfish, stupid thing to do. So instead, Eris pressed one last kiss to your neck, and carefully untangled himself from you, helping you up onto your feet. “I'll take you there then.” He reluctantly sighed.

After you'd gotten ready quickly, Eris winnowed you to your apartment in Velaris. He took your hand as you walked through the halls and up to your front door, squeezing it lightly, making sure to catch your eye one last time. “I want to see you tonight.” He said firmly.

“I'd like that.” You whispered back.

He ran his thumb over your knuckles and leaned in, pressing a last, quick kiss to your lips, “Until then.” He murmured and let go, backing away.

Watching him leave, you blushed furiously and Eris shot you a knee buckling wink over his shoulder before he disappeared. 

The day couldn't have gone any slower even if you'd tried. The priestesses had many questions, most of which you were able to answer to their satisfaction, but it was nearly impossible to focus on your work when you knew you'd be sharing a bed with Eris again tonight. And as if that hadn't been tedious enough, when you got back to your apartment, Azriel was already waiting in front of it. He had questioned you for a few minutes about your whereabouts the night before and although you and Eris had agreed to not hide your relationship, it didn't feel right to reveal it to parts of the Inner Circle without him around. Or maybe, if you were being completely honest with yourself, you were scared to reveal it by yourself. Azriel eventually left it alone, but told you that Rhys and Feyre had called a spontaneous Inner Circle meeting with Eris and Helion. The High Lord of Day Court was coming over to share some vital information about Koschei that his scholars had found in the Day Court libraries archives. Ever since then you'd been pacing your apartment like a caged wolf. Nobody knew of your newfound bliss yet. How were you going to do this? Your heart was pounding so wildly you thought about heading straight for the healing quarters. Did Eris just want to openly be with you without hesitation? You had only decided to pursue this yesterday and already a meeting with the Inner Circle, your friends, and another High Lord stood before you. The meeting was supposed to be in thirty minutes and you were still walking up and down the carpet in your living room, surely leaving a trail by now. A knock on your door roughly pulled you out of your anxious, frantic stupor. Eris stood before you, smirking, dressed perfectly and so handsome your breathing stopped for a few seconds. He grinned when you halted your trampling with your mouth slightly agape. He didn't give you any time to recover, instead he pushed you back into your apartment and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, shutting the door with a kick behind him. While his hands were still on your waist. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Instinctively, your hands found his neck and you held onto him. “I didn't expect you to come by before the meeting.” You said between kisses.

“Wanted to see you before we head out.” Eris replied quietly and bit down on your lower lip, tugging on it gently before letting go and capturing your mouth in a deep kiss. Getting carried away was easy when he was touching and kissing you like this. And somehow, his mere presence already managed to ease your nerves a bit. 

Your scent was driving him insane. The way you tasted, the feel of your warmth, your soft lips. Slowly, his hands wandered down, past your hips, over your ass, squeezing gently. And he felt his pants getting uncomfortably tight. He had to force himself to let go of your waist to move his hands back up again to your face, cradling it as he pulled back from the kiss. “Have I already told you just how good you taste?”

“Not yet.” You chuckled.

“A shame.” He mumbled, capturing your mouth again, his tongue tracing over your lower lip before slipping past it. His hands moved into your hair, grabbing a fistful to tilt your head back. “Well then…” He whispered against your lips with a smirk. “You taste absolutely delightful.”

You wondered if your face would ever be a normal color again while around him. “Thank you. But I think we should get going.”

Eris took a deep breath to regain his composure. You were right. They had a meeting to get to. “A pity.” He said with a grin and took a step back, offering you his hand.

Fingers interlaced and you took a few steps forward, then winced when the familiar sharp pain you'd lived with for so long shot through your thigh. Eris's attention immediately snapped towards your face. He tugged on your hand reassuringly, stopping in his tracks. “You alright, sweetheart?”

“Bad day.” You replied.

He brought your joined hands up to his mouth to press a kiss on the back of your own. A gesture that already felt so natural. “Want me to carry you?”

“No, I'll manage.” 

Eris nodded, knowing better than to push. He gave you one last squeeze before letting go of your hand and instead slid his arm from behind around your waist again, to support you as he winnowed both of you to the front door of the River House, where today's meeting would take place. Before you entered, you rubbed your palms together, taking a few deep breaths. Last night, you'd made it clear that you didn't want to hide your relationship. There was no use in it. But still, standing here now... How would you do this? Would there be questions? Would there be anger? Anxiety crawled rapidly up your chest. 

Eris felt your panic rise like a tide, saw the fear in your eyes and the way your hands shook and he wanted to kick himself. Stupid. They had agreed not to hide this and yet he had let you walk through all this unprepared. Before you could take a step and head inside, he gently took hold of your shoulders, making you face him. “Hey, hey, look at me.” He said softly. He grabbed your chin, lifting it up so that you met his eyes. “Pretend that it's only you and me in there, if it gets too much. We don't owe anyone a damned explanation for how we feel about each other.”

Nodding, you steadied yourself further with one more shaky inhale. “I know. You're right.”

“Of course I'm right.” He teased with the hint of a smirk before leaning down and pressing a soft peck to your lips. “Let’s go inside. Together.”

As you opened the front door and entered the grand parlor, you heard voices coming from the meeting room that was adjacent to Rhysand's office. A glance found Eris's amber eyes again and he nodded reassuringly, guiding you inside the room by the curve of your lower back, keeping you close as you entered. The rest of the Inner Circle was already assembled. Azriel stood by the window, eyes fixed on Eris, his gaze flickering over to you, taking in the hand the High Lord of Autumn had placed on the small of your back, but his expression remained blank. Cassian was talking to Amren and spared you no mind. Nesta was sitting at the table, flipping through a heavy tome. She raised her silver eyes to you, not looking remotely surprised. And at last, Rhys and Feyre's glances found you, followed by matching, knowing smiles.

“Evening.” You uttered, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Good to see you– both of you.” Rhys greeted with a feline grin. “Take a seat.”

Eris gave your hip a gentle nudge before gesturing you to one of the empty chairs and taking a seat next to you. The warmth of his body radiated through you, making you relax just a little, as you reached for his hand under the table and intertwined your fingers. “What about Helion? Wasn't he supposed to join?” You asked quickly to avoid an interrogation.

“He should be here any moment.” Rhysand replied casually and leaned back in his chair.

Swallowing hard, you tried not to look anybody in the eye. Maybe, once you and Eris would be out, seen together for a few times, nobody would care anymore and you could just... Skip any questions. That could be a possibility, right? As if on cue, the sound of approaching footsteps from the corridor could be heard and a moment later, Helion stepped through the door, accompanied by one of his scholars. “My apologies for the late arrival.” He said as he took a seat, smiling politely.

Your shoulders sacked in relief. Helion, High Lord of Day Court. He sat beside Azriel, which almost coaxed a giggle out of you. The High Lord had a fair share of lovers, male and female, and Azriel had been catching his eye for a while now. The shadowsinger never even reacted to his flirtatious ways though. And it wasn't just Azriel who Helion liked to shamelessly flirt with, oh no. The High Lord also loved to direct his attention to you. 

Eris's grip on your hand tightened, as Helion's eyes found yours, his gaze wandering over your body, taking you in, when it lingered at where your fingers were intertwined with Eris's, he raised a brow, a smirk slowly tugging up the corners of his mouth. But he didn't say a word. Yet. You send a silent prayer to the Mother. This was neither the time nor place for a fight between two High Lords. Helion and Eris were crucial for the defense against the upcoming threat that was Koschei and even more so, they were needed to convince the other courts to join in. In your peripheral view, you could see Helion open his mouth, most likely to come up with some suggestive remark, but fortunately, Rhysand cut in before he could speak. “Now that we're all here, shall we begin?”

A thankful half-smile from you reached Rhys. 

“Any news from Dawn or Winter Court in regards to the possible alliance against Koschei?” Rhys asked and turned his gaze towards Helion, not missing the way Eris's death glare still lingered on him.

The High Lord of Day hesitated, clearly torn. He had enough common sense to not make a comment that would anger Eris, but he did like teasing the male every now and then. “Dawn is on board. And Winter has agreed to a meeting in a few days.” He said at last.

“Is Thesan also willing to lend us his healers?” You asked. The High Lord of Dawn had good fighters, sure, but his healers and their skills were unmatched.

“He is.” Helion nodded, his gaze wandering over your face, his expression calculating. “And he has agreed to be present for the meeting with Winter. Dawn Court is just as terrified of Koschei as the rest of us.”

“Excellent.” Rhysand said, leaning back in his chair. “What else?” 

Silence filled the room, before Helion cleared his throat and his eyes flickered towards where you and Eris's hands were intertwined again. Something about him looked almost... amused. He'd picked up on it right from the start and clearly, he was ready to tease Eris about it. “I just wanted to tell you how... surprised I am. That after all this time, the two of you finally figured out that you are mates.”

Mates. Mates. Mates? The word rang in your ear. Eris was... Your mate? You froze, eyes wide and locked on Helion. You had absolutely no idea. Did Eris? By the way he was completely stiff beside you and the fact that he gripped your hand so hard it hurt, you were certain he also didn't have a clue. Mates. 

A deep growl emitted from Eris's chest and he fixed the High Lord of Day with a glare that would have caused lesser males to shake in their boots. “A topic best discussed in private, don't you think, Helion?” He spat out and you could practically hear his teeth grinding.

Without thinking, you shot up from your seat so hard, the chair almost went flying. Completely blocking out the fact that your leg was feeling particularly shit today, you bolted out of the room, leaving with a muffled, “I need a moment.”

The next moment, Eris was on his feet and hot on your heels, following you out of the meeting room and into the hallway. He caught up to you just as you rounded a corner. “Y/N.” He called after you, grabbing your wrist, trying to gently make you stop. “Wait.”

Leg angrily throbbing with every step you took, you rushed down the hallway until you reached the grand sitting room of the estate. Mate. Eris Vanserra was your mate. You pressed a hand to your stomach and began inhaling and exhaling deeply, frantically looking around the perfectly decorated room.

Once the door clicked shut behind Eris, he quickly closed the distance between you, taking your face in his hands. “Y/N, look at me.” He said calmly. “Breathe. Just focus on me. Don't panic, sweetheart.”

A humorless chuckle bursts out of you. “Don't panic?!”

His grip on your face tightened ever so slightly and he tried to steady your wild gaze with his own. “Panicking won't do us any good. You need to breathe. And we need to talk.”

“You can reject the bond if you want to, I’d understand.”

Eris opened his mouth. Closed it again. Blinked twice. And stared at you for a moment, his expression completely dumbfounded, as if your words didn't even make sense to him. “Did you just…” He mumbled, running a hand through his hair, messing it up a little. “You think I'd want to reject the bond?”

A humourless chuckle burst past your lips. “Why wouldn't you? I'm a mediocre researcher from another court with a fucked up leg, who's so scared of fire she can't even sit next to a hearth. You're the High Lord of Autumn. This is not fair to you, Eris. This can't be–”

“Stop.” He said sharply and his hands found your face again, fingers digging into your cheeks just a little bit. “Stop. Talking. Like that.”He gritted out through clenched teeth. “You are not less, do you hear me? You're not. You're my mate. Mine.” His eyes flashed, his voice rough and desperate. “I'm never going to reject you. Not in a million years. So get that ridiculous idea out of your head.”

Restlessly, you shifted your weight onto your good leg and sighed, saying quietly, “You deserve better than this…”

For a moment, Eris closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if summoning the patience to not absolutely lose it. What spell did you cast on him to make him this unhinged, this vulnerable? When he opened his eyes again, his hold on your face loosened. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks as he stepped closer, until his body was pressed against yours. “You want me to tell you what I think I deserve?”

No reply left your mouth, but you managed to hold his stare.

Eris leaned in so close that his face was merely a hair's width away from your own. “I think I deserve to wake up next to the stunning, brave, kind and fascinating female I fell in love with every single morning. I think I deserve to have someone by my side who understands me, trusts me and isn't afraid to call me out on my bullshit. Someone who's strong enough to let me take care of her and gentle enough to know when I need it, too.”

“Eris…” You whispered, tears pricking your eyes.

He leaned forward, his nose brushing over your own, before dropping another sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You're everything I've ever wanted.” He murmured against your lips. “I'd be a damned fool to reject the bond, don't you think?”

A chuckle, a little less sad than the sounds you'd made before, slipped from your still tightened throat.

Eris pulled back just enough to take you in, his expression softening and a playful spark of mischief returned to his eyes. “And just to dispel any more foolish notions from that beautiful head of yours…” He said, one of his hands wandering down to your waist, then settling on your hip. “You're also the hottest female I've ever laid eyes on.”

Rolling your eyes, you snorted a laugh. Eris smiled and leaned his forehead against yours, hands coming up to your face, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles over your cheeks. A gentle kiss brushed your mouth softly, his breath warm on your lips, smelling like honey and cinnamon. Now that you knew, you felt it. Clear as day– the bond. Simmering inside your chest, golden and blooming like a beacon of love and security. With your lips still on Eris's, you reached for the sacred connection, grabbed it carefully and tugged. 

He inhaled sharply, a soft, ragged sound leaving his mouth. A wave of warmth that went straight to his gut, a feeling so intense, he felt lightheaded for a moment. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed you and pulled your body into his, his own heat pressing right back into yours.

“Eris–” you gently pulled away, panting. “We can't– not here.”

“My thoughts exactly…” He breathed erratically. “Can I stay at your apartment tonight?” He asked quietly, thumbs still tenderly caressing your face.

“Of course.” Gods, your skin was burning hot and your entire body was screaming, aching for him. “We should get back, we can't just abandon the meeting like that.”

Eris inhaled, trying to collect himself. His mate… “You're right.” He agreed, a last, gentle kiss.

As you walked back to the meeting room, you glanced up at Eris beside you and smiled. “I can feel you now. Through the bond.”

A soft huff escaped him. And when he lifted his gaze from the floor in front of you to look down at you, his eyes were full of longing. “Just wait until I get you into bed later.” He teased and reached down to take your hand, entangling his fingers with yours.

Before you could even utter a flustered response to that, you entered the meeting room again. Every single pair of eyes landed on you and Eris and all voices died down. Your glance met Helion's and all you felt was disappointment. The High Lord of Day Court and you had known each other for years. You'd lived in Day Court, before coming to Velaris, your mother still lived there. And you had spent countless hours in Helion's libraries researching and teaching his scholars. You'd even go as far as saying that you considered him a good friend. But what he had done tonight... Revealing your mating bond with Eris, so openly in front of everyone as if it was a mockery– it had hurt you deeply. The mating bond was something to be discovered and cherished by the two mates. And he had taken that away from both of you, had stolen that sweet moment of the bond snapping into place. 

Eris could feel every single one of your emotions through the newly formed bond, still so fresh and fickle. Males were generally really possessive and protective of their mates, but especially in the first few days after the bond snapping and the weeks after accepting it, they barely had any control over it. Helion blinked and even though he gave you a half-smile that looked very apologetic, you turned away, ignoring him and sitting back down on your empty seat. Eris lowered himself beside you and laid his hand atop your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric of your pants.

“Y/N, I-” Helion started and a snarl ripped from Eris's throat that chilled the blood in your veins.

“If you value your head, you will keep your mouth shut. Right now.”

“I think it's best we resume what we came here for.” You suggested quickly and Rhysand gave you a small nod, saying, “I think you're right,” throwing Helion a glance.

The meeting resumed, but you didn't listen. Only took a few notes whenever it seemed like it could be useful, but your attention lay solely on the strong hand grasping your upper thigh. Eventually, Rhysand ended your little gathering and you nearly flew out of your seat. “Y/N.” Rhysand spoke, before you could leave. “You're dismissed from your duties for the next two days. Take the time to sort this out. Clear your head.”

“Thank you…” You mumbled, but added, “If you need me, don't hesitate though.”

Rhys nodded. “We can handle two days.” He said and gave you a genuine smile.

As soon as you'd left the River House, Eris winnowed you straight to your apartment. He had barely let go of you before his lips were on you. His hands were everywhere, desperate and greedy as they traveled over every inch of you that was in his reach. He kissed you hungrily, taking all of you in, exploring your mouth with his tongue, his hands pulling at your clothes. “Get this off.” He murmured against your mouth, tugging on your shirt.

You fumbled with the buttons on your blouse, but your hands were shaking violently and you could barely think straight. Shit. You were nervous. So much had happened in the past twenty four hours. Eris and you confessed your feelings and basically committed to each other, just to find out that you'd been mates the entire time. Your mind spiralled and anxiety rose up your throat. Eris could feel your unease, your doubts through the bond, how your brain worked overtime. His hands closed around your trembling fingers, gently pulling them away from the buttons on your blouse. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. “It's alright. We'll slow down. Just relax.” He whispered, carefully unbuttoning your shirt himself, before pushing the fabric off your shoulders.

That made it better. Slowly was the way to go. You stood before him in a sinful, dark green bra that left barely anything to the imagination through its lacy fabric. “You are so beautiful.” Eris whispered and slid a finger along the lace, lightly grazing your skin. His other hand came up to cup your face, tilting your head back so that you met his eyes. “I'm going to spoil you,” He said, as he pushed you towards the bedroom. “And you're going to let me.”

Eris had one hand on your waist, guiding you as you walked backwards and your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt on either side of his muscular stomach. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” Eris made a noise of confirmation and gave you another kiss before his eyes locked on the bed behind you. “Then I'm going to spend the night showing you how much exactly you mean to me.” He pushed you onto the bed, eyes roaming over your nearly naked body hungrily.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watched him as he followed suit and unbuttoned his own shirt. Every time he revealed another bit of skin and muscle, your core tightened further and heat pooled in your lower stomach. It had been forever since you'd let a male get that close to you, let alone one that meant something to you. But what could even compare to this? To your mate? Nothing, you guessed. Once his torso was finally bare, Eris knelt on the mattress between your legs, leaning down until his face was hovering just above your own. “Gods, you're exquisite.” He purred, letting his gaze shamelessly roam your curves, eyes flicking over every bit of skin he could see before returning to your face. “And you're all mine.” He added softly and his fingertips brushed over your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“All yours.” You whispered breathlessly and ran your hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. “For as long as you want me.”

“Forever, then.” Eris closed his eyes, relishing in your touches for a moment, before leaning down to kiss you and his fingers hooked into your waistband, slowly pulling your pants down. When the first bit of scar tissue was revealed, your breath hitched for a moment and you involuntarily sent a sliver of insecurity down the bond. You really needed to learn how to control what you flung towards him through that tether. Eris was quick to capture your lips again, his fingers tracing the marred skin on your thigh as the fabric went further down. “Absolutely gorgeous.” He praised against your lips. “Those scars are a  medal. For your bravery and strength. You saved your mother and stood up against four Illyrian warriors. There shouldn't be a hint of shame in you for them, only pride.”

No, you weren't going to cry underneath him in only your lacy undergarments. So you suppressed the stinging in your eyes. And after your pants had hit the floor, Eris began unbuttoning his own trousers. He was so perfect and elegant, your skin vibrated just looking at him. As he pushed his pants and briefs down in one motion, Eris's hardened cock sprung free. He gave himself a few lazy strokes, running his eyes over your body, his breathing already growing heavy with restraint. The sight of him like this, wanting and hungry, sent another pulse of heat through your core and your walls clenched around nothing in anticipation. Eris crawled back over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your mouth. “What can I do to make you feel good?” He asked, his fingers sliding down over your throat, over your collarbone, over your breast, all the way down your waist.

“I– I don't know, I–” A ragged breath passed your lips. “It's been a while since I've... done this.”

He nodded, caressing your side, taking in the way it made you shiver. “We'll take our time, no need to rush.” His hand slid down towards your core, his fingers brushing over the lace of your underwear. “Unless you're uncomfortable and don't want to?” He offered carefully.

”I want to.” You whispered eagerly. Fuck– You really wanted to.

A spark flared in his eyes and his mouth curved into a sinful smirk. The hand on your side wandered around your back, finding and unhooking the clasp of your bra. He slid the straps off your arms, fingers brushing over your skin, leaving little prickles and your nipples hardened. Breaths became heavy and you knew the bond between you did little to hide how desperately you wanted him. Slowly, his hand wandered further down, until it brushed against the soft lace of your underwear. He pushed himself up a little, so that he was kneeling between your thighs, fingers hooking into the waistband. “Is it alright if I take these off?” He asked, fingers flexing almost impatiently.

“Gods, yes please.” You breathed.

His fingers curled around the lace and pulled your underwear down, the garment joining the heap of fabric on the floor. You were completely bare before him, splayed out like a delectable feast. His eyes raked over your body, drinking in every inch of your skin, committing every dip and curve to memory. And for once, it didn't feel uncomfortable to be looked at so attentively. With a low groan, he glanced up at you, eyes dark with desire. “Fucking perfect.”

It took an effort not to cry out loud when he moved his palms along your soft, heated skin. His hands petting your sides, fingertips drawing little circles on their way until they settled on your breasts. “I have dreamed of this.” He confessed. “Over and over. Month after month, night after night…”

Words had abandoned you, but you managed to send him a hint of what you were feeling through the bond and his eyes lit up. Mutual arousal traveled between your minds, Eris's thumbs brushed over your nipples, leaving you whining. His heart was racing, breaths labored and you could feel his cock twitching against your leg. “You have no idea what you do to me.” He whispered and ran one of his hands up your stomach and ribs, until it settled over your heart. He held it there, felt it racing rapidly and his amber eyes found yours. “Can you feel that?”

Tears stung your eyes. Happiness, desire, love, lust... It all flooded your veins, ran though your body and exploded in your chest, carving a spot in your soul only meant for Eris. “I do…”

He held your gaze and leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “I love you,” He whispered, one hand wandering down to finally touch you where you ached for him most. “Gods, I love you so much.”

Fingers brushed your wet folds, every movement practiced and perfectly placed. You'd expected nothing less. “I... Love you, too…”

His fingers found your clit, rubbing slow, firm circles. A ragged groan escaped him. “Say it again.” He urged, eyes blazing as they found yours. “Say that you love me. I need to…” He broke off, unable to finish the sentence, but you knew what he was thinking. He needed the confirmation to make this real.

Another desperate moan fell from your mouth, then, “I love you, Eris Vanserra. You're mine.”

He kissed you roughly, his tongue greedily invading your mouth and his fingers worked you harder, making you moan and wail against his lips. Eris broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours for a moment, breathless. “I'm all yours.” Eris swore and captured your mouth again, his tongue exploring every inch of it. 

Perfect. It was the only way to describe how impeccably you worked together.The kisses grew deeper, more demanding, his teeth grazed your lower lip, his tongue stroking yours. Skilled fingers slid down your folds again and he plunged one of them into you, coaxing a harsh moan from you, then Eris broke the kiss and pulled back. A growl ripped from his throat and you felt it through the bond– how much he wanted, needed you. He slid his finger out of you again, moving it through your slit one more time, ending with a delicious flick against your clit, before he brought them up to his mouth, licking them clean, his hungry gaze boring into your face.

The sight nearly made you come, but you caught yourself, just before you fell over the edge. “Gods, Eris…”

Desire gleamed in his eyes as he leaned down to press his lips to the corner of your mouth. When he spoke, you could feel every word ghost over your skin like a warm caress. “Tell me what you need.” He whispered. “Say the words and I'll give it to you.”

“All I need–” Another moan fell from your lips. “All I need is you, Eris. Preferably inside of me. Now.”

There it was. The last remnants of his control shattered with those words. A guttural sound tore through him and faster than lightning, he was pushing himself up and leaning over you, pressing himself against your entrance. He wanted so desperately to be careful and gentle, to guide you through it. But his entire body ached with need. “You sure?” He managed to still ask, but you could hear the strain in his voice.

“Never been more sure of anything.”

He kissed you again and fingers grasped your unscarred thigh, lifting it up so that your knee was hooked over his hip, giving it a gentle rub, before he slowly pushed inside you, until he was buried all the way, deep and perfect. Eris swallowed your breathy whine with another peck. You were soaring, floating, falling, crashing. All at once. At least that's what it felt like. There wasn't a single emotion that didn't enter the bond while Eris began cautiously moving in and out of you and everything around you faded. All you could register was him– and you, bodies colliding. More. Gods, you needed more. As your hips met his, you beckoned him into a faster rhythm. “You feel... so good.”

Eris groaned and his fingers dug into the thigh he still gripped firmly. Gods, the feeling of you, the bond that connected you to him, the sight of you beneath him– eyes hazy, glazed with desire, lips parted, those depraved sounds coming from you… “You're so tight.” Eris panted, speeding up his thrusts just a little bit more. It was torture. Blissful, beautiful torture.

And for all you cared, the entirety of Prythian could be falling apart outside your bedroom and you wouldn't care, not one bit. All that mattered was how it felt to have him joined with you, feel all of him and then some. The bond was screaming, or maybe it was you, you didn't know anymore, had no idea where you ended and he began, what emotion flowed from him through the bond or came from you, it was all a mix of the two of you and fucking hells, nothing had ever felt this good before. At least that's what you thought, but then the hand that was holding onto your thigh let go and snaked between your bodies as he captured your mouth again. His fingertips connected with your clit and you saw stars, clenching furiously around him. Eris knew you were almost there, dancing right around your breaking point and he was more than eager to follow the second you'd allow yourself to let go.

The sounds tumbling from your lips grew louder and you could tell that Eris was close too, judging by the way his muscles tensed up, the bond flaring with need and urgency. “Come for me.” He demanded against your lips, his eyes not once shying away from yours, as if he was scared to miss the moment you finally fell apart.

Every thought, every sensation, every feeling was shared, multiplied between your minds, and there was no question about where either of you belonged from here on out. Eris gave you another thrust, once. Twice. And then you finally stepped over the border that took you into sweet oblivion as you cried out and gasped his name until your mind was joyously blank.

Eris held you, as you both careened into ecstasy, fingers curled tightly around your thigh, his tongue claiming your mouth, drinking in every single sound you let loose. “Gods…” He breathed when you both slowly came down again, chests still heaving with labored breaths, face buried in the column of your neck. “That was…” He was unable to find the words.

“Incredible…” You finished his sentence, short-winded as he had left you.

He ran his fingers along your thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin, almost absentmindedly, his length still throbbing inside of you. “How are you feeling?” He breathed and leaned up, so that he was able to look at your face.

“Like I just had the best orgasm of my life.”

His mouth widened into a smug smirk. “Good.” Eyes roamed your flushed face, your gaze still glassy. He brushed a kiss to your mouth, then reluctantly pulled out and you already missed the closeness. Without a word, Eris collapsed on his back next to you, staring up at the ceiling, his chest still rising and falling rapidly. With a chuckle that sounded almost disbelieving, as if he wasn't sure this had really happened, he scooped you up with one arm and pulled your back into his chest. “Do you mind if I stay the night?”

Fingertips played along the skin of the toned arms that held you securely and you leaned your head back into him. “No, of course not. But don't you have important High Lord things to do?”

A low snicker escaped him and one of his hands brushed through your hair, tenderly caressing your temple. “Oh, sure. Absolutely vital High Lord things.” He drawled sarcastically into your neck. “But I doubt the fate of the Autumn Court is going to crumble into dust, if I dare spend a night with my beautiful mate instead.”

Contently, you sighed and you were certain the stupid grin wouldn't wipe off of your face for months to come. Maybe longer. “Are you going to be here when I wake up?” You mumbled after a while, your eyelids growing heavy from the sleep that waited to take you.

He held you closer to his chest, feeling the exhaustion creeping up on him, too. “Of course I will.” Eris replied and pressed a kiss to your cheek from behind. “And tomorrow I'll make you the most delicious breakfast you have ever tasted.”

“Can't wait.”

He buried his face in your hair and inhaled deeply, letting the scent of you wash over him, feeling the bond pulsate softly under his heart. “Goodnight, my love.” He whispered and held you as darkness finally claimed you both.

Taglist: @impossibelle @loving-and-dreaming @firebirdsalvatore @lilah-asteria @caticorn61 @babypeapoddd @babypeapoddd @talesofadragon @celestiallovers17 @stained-glass-eyes0708 @azrielsmate3 @melsunshine

He falls to his knees and faces the earth below him, imagining it's hungry mouth. He wants to claw his way down into her core. Bury himself. Be done.

Fog curls low between the trees, autumn-thick and smelling of rot. Lucien tenses as a set of hounds approach— catalouging the sounds of their panting, the press of their paws on fallen leaves. He doesn’t bother to lift his head. He stays kneeling in the dirt, hands loose on his thighs, staring at nothing. Feeling nothing. Being nothing, at all.

Soon, he thinks with an ache. Soon I’ll be with you, Jesminda. And I’ll beg for your forgiveness.

Hot breath ghosts against his neck, bringing with it the overwhelming scent of smoke and dog. Lucien closes his eyes and waits to meet his maker.

It's what he deserves, after all. Jesminda's blood is on his hands despite never having laid a finger on her—guilt by inaction, by survival, by breathing when she cannot.

"Sit."

Eris’s voice cuts through the gray fog in Lucien’s head. The hounds obey immediately, settling on either side of him. One of them whines— eager, hungry, perhaps— and the sound scrapes against something raw inside Lucien. 

Eris walks past, surveying the tree line. He stops a few feet ahead. Turns.

"Well," Eris says. A pause. "This is disappointing."

Wind dances through the dead trees. Lucien says nothing. There's nothing to say. She's dead. Charred and incomplete, pieces of her scattered like the trail of roses he once left before her doorstep.

She's dead and Eris held him down. Made sure he couldn't look away, couldn't fight, couldn't do anything but scream until his voice gave out. Even then he kept screaming, silent and airless and usless.

Eris steps closer, the view of his pristine boots settling into Lucien's view.

"Look at me."

Lucien doesn't move. He's not sure he can. There's nothing left in him to move with. His body is a vessel with a draining soul.

"Lucien." His brother's voice is sharper now. A command from the voice of a general. "I said, look at me."

Slowly— so slowly— Lucien raises his head. The fight is gone from him completely, scraped out somewhere between the execution and collpasing in these woods.

He is empty, and hollow, and he foolishly hopes his brother will kill him immediately. Quickly. A mercy, perhaps, after what they'd done to Jesminda.

Eris doesn't make a move. He stands still, examining his nails.

Lucien stares at his brother's cruel, beautiful face. The weak Autumn sun makes a halo of his red hair. He looks fit to be sitting for a portrait, if not for the faint smear of blood at the corner of his mouth.

Lucien's doing.

Evidence of the fight he once held in his body, when he'd thrashed and fought as he was held down. When he'd begged— please, please, take me instead, she's done nothing— and Eris had only held him tighter.

"Well?" Eris drawls. "Aren't you going to run? Or beg?"

The casual cruelty is dehumanizing in its efficiency. Lucien is just another hunt. It should ignite something. Fear. Rage. The basic animal drive to surrive.

Any other day, it might have. But there's nothing in Lucien anymore. No instincts to appeal to. He's a shell of the male he once was— the shedded skin left behind when the true Lucien followed the light in Jesminda's eyes to whatever darkness waited beyond.

"Just get it over with," Lucien says, and his voice is flat. Empty.

Eris tilts his head, studying him. "No."

"Do it."

"No," Eris repeats, firmer now.

Lucien's hands curl into fists. He knows his brother. He hates that he does, but he knows him. Knows the tone of his voice, the gleam in his eye. Eris is interested in something besides Lucien's death.

"What do you want from me?"

Eris crouches down until they're eye level. "I want to know if there's anything left worth killing."

Once again, Lucien knows the words should have an impact— they should hurt. Anger him. They don't. He's moved beyond the reach of scorn.

One of the hounds shifts closer to Eris, pressing its head against his leg. Eris's hand drops to its neck absently, fingers scratching behind its ears while he watches Lucien with cold assessment. He's searching for something. For whatever is of such interest to him. Lucien isn't sure what, but he's too tired to care.

This is one thing he won't miss. The constant need to decipher the language of his family from movement alone, learning to read them like predators in the wild. Like the brutal, animalistic things that they are.

"Our brothers wanted to track you together," Eris says conversationally. "Make a game of it. I told them I'd handle you myself." He pauses. "They were disappointed. We compromised on me having a head start."

"Sorry to ruin everyone's fun."

"You should be." Eris clenches his jaw. "Five miles, Lucien. That's all you managed before collapsing. I've seen wounded rabbits put up better fights."

Lucien takes a deep breath, and his chest aches with the motion— bruised and battered ribs shifting like broken pottery beneath his skin. Let them come. Let it end. There's nothing worth running for.

"I'm not running," Lucien says.

"No?" Eris cocks his head and narrows his eyes. "You'd rather I set the hounds on you here? Tear you apart while you kneel in the dirt like a coward?"

Lucien doesnt answer. Eris studies him for another long moment. Then he moves, fast and fluid, to circle his little brother once more. Within seconds, his boot is between Lucien's shoulder blades, shoving him down into the scorched earth.

"Oh, Lucien." The words are almost soft. "Do you know what Father said after you ran? That you were always the weakest. A coward."

His boot presses slightly heavier, and Lucien instinctively plants his hands on the earth, trying to push up, give his battered ribs space to breathe. He's lucky Eris isn't putting his full weight on him. His other brothers surely would have by now.

In fact, they would've killed him on sight. Whatever Eris is doing, Lucien is tempted to think its even crueler.

How strange to think that once upon a time, he'd admired this very brother. The eldest. His example. The male he wanted to be.

Lucien's fingers dig into the dirt. "Then he's right."

"Is he?" Eris fights against Lucien's push, planting him flat against the forest floor. His chest compresses with the pressure and his ribs begin to scream.

"It's over, Eris!" The words spill out, startling the dirt beneath Lucien's cheek. He needs Eris to understand even though he knows— knows— it won't matter. "You've taken her from me. You held me down, you made me watch, you—"

"Now, let's be factual. I didn't do anything. Father—"

"You!" Lucien snarls, and he twists beneath Eris's booth with sudden, desperate strength. Bucking up and back, using the leverage to unbalance his brother just enough. Eris's boot slips and Lucien surges to a stand, gripping Eris's collar in his bloody fists. Red soaks throughout the pristine fabric of his coat. "You've broken me. I am done. Kill me. You win."

Something flickers across Eris's face. A hairline fracture in his mask, there and gone so fast Lucien might have imagined it.

Maybe his brother is still in there. Somewhere. The ghost of the male who used to ruffle Lucien's hair and teach him to ride and promise they'd always fight for one another because thats what family did.

Lucien holds his breath. Waiting. Hoping. Needing.

Then Eris's jaw tightens. "Don't be stupid, Lucien."

"I loved her—"

"I know." Eris grabs Lucien's wrists and wrenches them off his collar. Before Lucien can react, Eris is on him—hand around his throat, driving him back and up until his spine cracks against a tree.

The pressure on his windpipe is precise enough to make every breath a struggle. Heat blooms against Lucien's skin where Eris touches him—not quite burning, but close. A warning held in check.

"I loved her." Eris says, pitching his voice high and mocking. "I needed her. She was everything." His grip tightens fractionally, and the heat intensifies for just a heartbeat before cooling again. "You sound like a child."

"Do not—" Lucien chokes out, the words strained and thin. "—talk about her."

"I'm not talking about her at all." Eris leans in closer, and Lucien can almost see himself reflected in his brother's eyes. An image of something small, pathetic, and ruined. Eris releases him suddenly and steps back, brushing dirt from his coat with theatrical disgust. "She's not worth the breath."

The word land while Lucien is still gasping for air, sagging against the tree. Maybe it's the brief loss of oxygen, or the version of himself he'd seen in those cruel, amber eyes, but the words stir something in Lucien's gut.

The flicker of a flame being lit. Eris Vanserra believes Jesminda isn't worth the breath. Jesminda, who is everything Eris will never be—kind where he is cruel, warm where he is cold, good where he is rotten. Jesminda who no longer is, but was.

Lucien's hands shake, his chest rattling with his deep breaths. He stares at the stranger before him, wearing his brother's face. A monster their father created and polished and perfected over centuries.

He realizes with sickening clarity that Eris Vanserra, the brother he'd once foolishly loved, has been dead for centuries. What stands before him now is a beautiful corpse walking, animated by their father's poison and his own biting ambition. A willing participant in the decay that came with Autumn's magic.

It's obscene, grotesque even, that this thing wearing his brother's face would dare speak about Jesminda with anything less than reverence.

Something inside Lucien splits wide open. A rage he didn't know he still possessed—hidden and buried beneath the numbness of his grief—suddenly ignites. The fire of a Vanserra, yes, but compelled by the one virtue none of his brothers can claim: love.

It makes him stronger than all of them.

Lucien pushes himself to his feet and swings before he knows he's moving. His fist connects with Eris's jaw—a solid, satisfying crack—and Eris's head snaps sideways. Blood blooms at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't retaliate. Lucien swings again, and again, and again. By the fifth swing, Eris blocks, lazy and bored, and it makes Lucien's grief worse. Makes the fury hotter.

"Fight me!" Lucien says, landing another hit. "You owe me that, you bastard!"

"I owe you nothing." Eris snarls, catching his wrist mid-swing. He pushes Lucien back. They stare at one another for a moment, chests heaving. Lucien's in pain and rage, Eris's, seemingly, in annoyance. Inconvenience.

"What happened to you?" Lucien asks, face twisted in disgust. The question is small and broken and young. He sounds like a child. Like the little brother who used to follow Eris around, who trusted him more than anyone. "You used to—" He grits his teeth. "What have I done to make you hate me so deeply?"

Eris goes still and the forest holds its breath— it's wind dying, leaves settling. A hound whines from behind him. Lucien's face nearly softens, but then Eris laughs, cold and sharp, and the moment shatters.

"You really are pathetic," Eris says, his tone almost bored. "I don't care enough to hate you, little brother."

Lucien is eight again, looking into Eris's eyes as he teaches him to throw a ball for the hounds. He's nine and copying his stance as he fights. He's twelve and learning how mean his brother can truly be.

In the distance Lucien can make out individual voices woven between the sounds of Autumn—his other brothers, whooping and calling like they're on a fox hunt.

Lucien is the fox—a predator made prey, clever and quick and the only creature that has ever managed to slip through Vanserra claws.

The rage crystallizes. Hardens into something sharp and unbreakable, calcified in his chest where his heart used to be. Eris thinks he's something to be toyed with. Beron thinks he's weak. His family expects him to be their evening entertainment. To run, to fail, to lie down and die. To lose, in their endless game of power and cruelty.

But Lucien Vanserra does not lose. Not in love, not in loyalty, and certainly not to the monsters he shares blood with.

He refuses to give them the satisfaction of his death.

"I'll give you thirty seconds," Eris says finally, running a finger along the blood leaking from his nose. "Then I release the hounds. If they catch you before you cross the border—" He shrugs. "Well. At least you tried."

"Why not kill me now? Take the glory?"

They hold each other's gaze across the small space between them— brothers, strangers, a connection broken between them that will never be whole again.

"Because I want the chase." Eris's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Where's the fun in easy prey?"

"Fuck you," Lucien says, and the words taste like ash and fury and life. "I hope Beron kills you. I hope you suffer before you make it near that crown."

Fire flickers in Eris's eyes—genuine emotion, for once. Grief and fury have made Lucien delirious, because he's almost tempted to believe his brother is delighted by his words. Biting back a proper smile, even. That this reaction is exactly the thing he'd been searching for.

"He'll have to get in line." Eris gestures toward the direction of the border with one elegant hand. "Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight—"

The rage that now floods Lucien's veins is the only warmth left. He'll be damned if he lets it go. Jesminda deserves better than him dying in the dirt like an animal. His mother deserves better than to lose the only good thing she's created.

"Twenty-five. Twenty-four. Twenty-three—"

Lucien looks around, taking in the sight of his court one last time. The burnt orange leaves in their slow suicide, the copper light filtering through skeletal branches, the colors he once loved now tainted with ash and blood. He will never be the version of himself that died here today. That male is gone, buried alongside Jesminda in the scorched earth.

He locks eyes with Eris once more.

There's blood on both of them now, the same cursed line that binds them to this place, to each other. It occurs to Lucien, with the bitter clarity of the already-damned, that Eris is the last thing his beloved Autumn will offer him. The face in so many of his earliest memories.

Eris raises a brow, almost curious. What is it you're seeing, Lucien? What have you come to realize?

He's standing perfectly still. "Thirteen. Twelve—"

Well, what do you want to be when you grow up? Asks Eris, in an echo from childhood.

I don't know, the ghost of Lucien replies, barely four feet tall.

Well. Do tell me when you decide.

I've decided, Lucien thinks. Sharp, and certain, and far too late. Anything but you, brother. Anyone but this.

"Nine—"

Lucien turns and runs straight into Spring.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

AUTHORS NOTE: gasp... no x reader. ive been writing a lot of lucien content for my own characterization purposes and i thought this was a good time for me to share some

something something eris goading lucien back to life through mockery and cruelty. doomed siblings i love you forever and lucien vanserra i love you even more

RE TAGLISTS: i don’t do any more taglists! please follow me on my library blog and turn on notifs to be alerted when a new fic is posted! 😋

permanent tag list (shall remain for now!) 🫶🏻

@rhysandorian @itsswritten  @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon  @glam-targaryen 

@cheneyq @darkbloodsly @yesiamthatwierd @azrielsbbg @evergreenlark 

@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered 

@feyretopia @azrielrot @justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli  @mrsjna

@anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound @melissat1254 @secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows 

@paankhaleyaaar @curiosandcourioser @thisrandombitch @casiiopea2 @w0nderw0manly

Happy Lucien Appreciation Week!! The theme for today is Gentleman and we all know Lucien is ever the courtier.

Thank you @bbriches_ for creating this version of Lucien with the ribbon trend! He looks exactly like I always imagined. Ethereally beautiful.

And thank you to @lucienweekofficial for hosting this amazing event!! 🦊🧡

Please ask for permission before reposting 🧡 Do not use this art for anti content.