Wildfire | 3
Something is wrong; there's an ache in your chest, ice in your veins, and the alliance between Eris and Rhysand seems to have some secret amendment. But you've never been good at not having answers.
WC: 4.6k
Warnings:Â Angst, fluff, so much yearning its absolutely sickening. Threats of danger I guess?
a/n: If you would like notifications for my writing, you can turn on notifications for the blog @assassinslibrary where I reblog all my fics! I do not do taglists anymore.
Part 1 Part 2
You had heard whispers of Autumn Court's beauty. The red, orange, and yellow vibrance of nature; the smell of smoke, clove, and crisp Fall air; the woodland creatures weaving between beautiful wooden and stone architecture. The praise did not compare to experiencing the land firsthand, however.
Stepping further into the wooded area, you let your guard fall slightly. Azriel remained close by. He scoped out the area with a tension that directly contrasted your calmness while taking in the surroundings. With each deep breath of fresh air, your muscles became more relaxed. You knew you should remain focused and prepared, but your body seemed to listen to something else in the cool wind, some other voice that told it to ignore your instructions completely.
The leaves flattened beneath your feet with a satisfying crunch, and Azriel turned to give you a look immediately.
"Sorry," you mumbled.
He didn't answer, instead moving his attention to a different side of the forest.
Azriel had demanded to come along on this trip to the Autumn Court, despite it originally being a solo assignment from Rhysand. At first, you chalked it up to Azriel being overprotective when it came to Eris, but his recent visits to Rhysand's office leading up to the task made you more suspicious.
You were not privy to what exactly they spoke about, but it ultimately led to Azriel tagging along with you to the Autumn Court, attitude in tow.
He had not been happy when he heard of Eris assisting you after your visit to the Illyrian camps. While he ultimately conceded to you making your own choices, he made his dislike and distrust of Eris well known. It wasn't until Rhys told him to "cut it out" that his side remarks about the male lessened, and you were granted some reprieve.
You could still sense his surliness, though, and it contrasted so heavily with the peace you felt.
That feeling in your chest had been throbbing for weeks. Like an unattended wound, it pulsed and ached and burned. But the cool breeze blowing through your hair and caressing your skin acted like a balm over it, soothing and comforting in a way that made you feel like you were floating.
"This is your first time in the Autumn Court?" Azriel asked.
You hadn't realized you'd closed your eyes while breathing in the air around you. Upon opening them, you noticed Azriel watching you curiously. You nodded. "I've always wanted to visit. Something about the colorful trees, the creeks, the animals..."
He only hummed, continuing to walk forward into the planned clearing. "All things we have in the Night Court."
The two weren't comparable; Azriel knew that. But you also knew being here made him on edge, and it wasn't just about the most recent situation in Illyria. He could never forget all Eris had done, even if a similar goal between Rhys and Eris allowed for a temporay alliance.
Stepping into the designated meeting space, you fidgeted with your hands. Nerves buzzed under your skin, and you tried to calm them. You felt silly -- like a young girl with a very naive and unrealistic crush.
You met Eris years ago. Despite being familiar with one another due to attending the same events, meetings, and Court proceedings, the two of you had never had the opportunity to truly get to know one another. The entirety of the Inner Circle warned of his ability to get under skin, of his mastery of charm, words, and manipulation. So at first you had just watched him, observing the way he held himself with such a belief of self-importance, the confidence and arrogance with which he spoke. And in watching him, you also saw the cracks in his facade. You observed the tenderness he held for his mother, the hatred for his father, the deflection of hurt and frustration through humor.
Eris had caught you watching. He had seen your curiosity and returned it tenfold, eyes narrowed and expression cold. You never seemed to fulfill whatever questions or expectations he had when he looked at you, but he continued anyway. And it had been like that for awhile. Curious eyes, unasked questions, and witty quips.
Until you had asked for him in that moment of vulnerability without even thinking about it. The night a voice awakened deep in your soul and spoke no other language but his name.
You rubbed at the spot under your ribcage absently.
"Are you ever going to tell me why you absolutely needed to tag along?" You attempted to distract yourself. These meetings were not uncommon as Beron's assassination loomed closer, but this was the first one you had traveled for.
Azriel moved to stand closer, his elbow just barely grazing your shoulder as he crossed his arms, surveying the trees and waiting. "No."
"That's it?" You nearly scoff. "No?"
"Are you ever going to tell me what happened that day in the kitchen?"
That day in the kitchen. The reminder caused your heart to anxiously skip a beat. Reminders of his smirk, his hands, his taste, his deep voice raspy and begging...
"No."
He sighed.
You weren't sure how Azriel knew of that night in the House of Wind. But this was Azriel: a spy master, a shadowsinger, and nothing if not protective. He would have found out somehow.
Silence consumed the two of you as you waited. You felt conflicted; half of your soul filled with anticipation for the Autumn male to appear, the other half calmed by the wind and scent wrapping around you.
Azriel did not move, did not falter. Ever the patient and still male. You did, though. As soon as a harsh bark broke through the wavering trees, you whipped around, arms already raising in defense.
The leaves shook as a hound half the size of you, sleek and gray, darted into the opening, its big paws digging into the dirt as it aimed straight toward you. You instinctually took a step back, but before it could touch you, it halted and sat perfectly still, as if it hadn't just sprinted out of the woods at breakneck speed. Breathing heavily and heart racing, you glanced at Azriel only to see him perfectly calm. In fact, he looked almost annoyed.
"It's not going to hurt you," a deep voice spoke from behind.
Lips parting in surprise, you turned to see Eris standing a short distance away, watching the interaction blankly. He had approached so silently that you understood the association between the Autumn Court and fox, both sly and quick. He stood tall and confident, his hands in his pockets as he looked down at you. Well, you and his smokehound.
You hesitated putting your back to the hound, standing in a way that allowed sight of both Eris and his animal equivalent.
Before you could respond or make some unintelligent decision, Azriel spoke, tone cold. "You're late."
"I had some things to take care of," Eris immediately responded, voice nonchalant but eyes never leaving your face. Then he tipped his head at you, those same amber eyes narrowing. "Is there a reason I see her injured more times than I do not?"
Your "injury" -- if you could even call it that -- was barely visible; the smooth skin of your cheek toward your undereye shone with slight bruising. It had faded since a training accident with Cassian the day prior, but apparently not enough to skate the Autumn heir's notice.
The corner of Azriel's lip turned up in amusement, his head tilting just barely as he observed Eris. Then the shadowsinger moved even closer to you, his palm coming to rest at the small of your back. Eris's eyes left yours to track the movement, and the muscle in his jaw clenched.
"You know how she is. Loves to wrestle with us 'brutes,' as you like to call us."
Eris's chest expanded in a deep breath as he reined himself in. Despite his attempt to do so, his voice still dripped with poison. "Right, the Illyrian brutes. Tell me, does your entire kind drug unwilling females for sexual satisfaction?"
You felt ill at the reminder of your previous predicament. Eris, as if he could sense the change in your thoughts, glanced at you briefly. Just a slight crack in his facade, a momentary glimpse of concern, before he hardened once again. His dark honey-colored eyes drifted back to the shadowsinger.
Azriel, for all his credit, did not reveal his rising anger to Eris. His face showed no offense at Eris's words, and you knew Azriel would never defend the Illyrians. But to be associated with them was worse, and you could feel the tightening in his muscles with his hand still on your back.
"I would enjoy nothing more than to discuss brutality with you, but that is a conversation better suited for the dinner table, wouldn't you say? Maybe even over a homemade meal." Azriel brought you into his side so suddenly, you nearly tripped. "This one makes an incredible fall bisque."
You felt your self-control waning, barely able to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at their bickering and nonsensical back-and-forth.
Eris didn't respond to the odd comment or whatever hidden jab was within, either because he didn't have words for a response or because he had too many. His silence was abnormal, though, and for a brief moment you surprisingly saw what looked like sadness, maybe even some form of grief, cross his features.
The male swallowed, shifting his weight as the muscles in his forearm flexed. His fists must have been clenched in his pockets.
You removed Azriel's grip on you and gave yourself some space. "Alright-" you start, unsure what they were even bickering about at this point, but not liking that look of anguish on Eris. Only the male apparently decided to find his voice as soon as you spoke.
"I told you not to come here."
His angry tone hurt that spot in your chest, the sting sharp and barbed. The smokehound circled around you then to sit beside his master, and it felt as if you were their prey somehow.
"I don't take orders from you, Eris. I take orders from Rhysand."
Your voice had been calm, but it seemed to only make him angrier. "Rhysand and I had an agreement."
"Rhysand does not see this as a risk," Azriel cut in. "For once, you and I agree. Which is why I'm here."
Eris gave Azriel a look of pure hatred. "As if I trust an Illyrian to-"
"Stop!" Raising your arms in exasperation, you let out a condescending laugh. "What are we doing? Are we not here to discuss something much more important than whatever this is?"
Eris looked to the ground, his body tense in annoyance and thought before his head rose again to meet Azriel's gaze. "This does not happen again."
Then he was backing away, the beautiful smokehound sprinting into the woods behind him. "Leave my court. Now."
The pit in your stomach grew at his words, at his lack of acknowledgement as he spoke, at the power in that last sentence. The ribbon of pain in your chest pulsed.
As he disappeared after his pet, you felt Azriel take hold of your elbow, dragging your hand away from that spreading ache. You didn't know why, but as his shadows enveloped the two of you, obscuring your vision and transporting you home, your mind could only focus on one thing:
Beneath his composed -- albeit angry -- facade, since the moment he had arrived, Eris had been shaking.
The Autumn Court heir, whose power absolutely radiated from him despite not yet inheriting his father's throne, had seemed almost frightened. The concept was completely foreign.
It was a thought you couldn't get out of your head.
Even nights later, you stayed awake, tossing and turning in your sheets to the memory of Eris's anxiety. To the memory of sorrow flashing over his face.
He had never been anything but composed and snarky. At meetings with his father, staring down Rhysand, even in your bed while you took your own control. Seeing him so disheveled and shaken unnerved you.
You had tried to talk to Rhysand to figure out what exactly occurred that day in the Autumn Court. Azriel and Eris had seemingly bitten each other's heads off while speaking in some code, which wasn't necessarily uncommon, but to be left in the dark both before and during the meeting was irritating.
What was the agreement between Eris and Rhysand, outside of the alliance already known to you? Why was it known to Azriel, and not to you? What did any of this have to do with a stupid fall bisque?
While you knew there was confidential information and plans you were not privy to, you couldn't help but feel frustrated at the idea of not knowing something involving Eris specifically. It felt wrong not to be included when it came to him. A chaotic sense of ownership, of claiming, stirred in your gut at the idea. You had the male pinned by the throat in your bed only weeks ago, and now you were being kept in the shadows about him.
It made you angry. And it made that gods-damned ache in your chest scream.
You hated it. And you hated that Rhys would not tell you anything when asked. All he had told you was that it was not his information to give.
Which led you back to Eris.
Lately, it felt like everything led you back to Eris. Your late-night thoughts, the cool air whipping through your hair, a phantom touch, the smell of pine, of clove, a hint of smoke, the honey in your tea, the amber color in the sky.
And that ache, that pull, that tug, literally guiding you back to his court.
You felt on edge. Body humming with anxiety and discomfort. The peace you felt standing in the woods was nowhere to be found, and you just wanted him.
You were embarrassed. Embarrassed and scared. The inner circle didn’t trust Eris much. Maybe enough to ally with him for the sake of killing Beron, but anything beyond that was minimal. How much could you actually trust him?
You didn't even know what you wanted to trust him with. What did you want from him? Companionship? Sex? Information? Something unknown?
Your body wanted him near. But your brain moved a mile a minute attempting to comprehend what any of this newfound draw to him meant.
Shame, guilt, and naivety swirled in your gut as your limbs moved automatically. It had been days, and you were still in the dark, still aching, still lost. And it seemed like this pull to the Autumn Court may be the compass you needed to find what you were looking for.
So you moved quickly and quietly, changing into appropriate gear before leaving the House of Wind. The air outside of the property felt like friends, and family, and comfort. But it didn't ease that ache. Not like the Autumn Court did.
It didn't hold scents of clove and smoke and pine and a freshness so cool it revitalized you. It didn't twist itself around your body to dance through your hair like you once imagined Azriel's shadows doing. It didn't seem to lift you and your worries, lessening the weight of just existing.
You shook with uncertainty. Fingers trembling and heart racing, you breathed deeply and took a chance; you winnowed to the wooded entrance you remembered.
As you landed, you exhaled and somehow felt both empty and whole at once. Tears of relief immediately gathered in your eyes at your surroundings: the crisp breeze, the leaves dancing, the chitters of woodland critters, the slight smell of chestnuts, and the dirt compacting beneath your boots. It all settled deep within that hole in your chest, and you could finally really breathe.
The ache lessened. Not completely gone, but enough to control the trembling of your body. You oriented yourself, taking in the ground beneath your feet, the moon high in the wooded night sky. And then you just sat, knees pulled to your chest, and waited.
Despite your thoughts worrying of the opposite, there was a confidence deep inside you that said you knew Eris, and you decided to trust it. It would not be long for him to find you here, and if he didn't, then you knew you were wrong. That these feelings were wrong.
If they were, you would return home to Velaris. You would fall to your knees in front of Rhys and beg him for help. Beg him or Madja or someone to help with this ache in your chest, to help find where it is leading you or to quiet it.
In the meantime, you relaxed. Your constant discomfort lately had led to trouble resting, and the ground beneath you felt like a hug as you sinked into it without any tension. Your eyes fluttered and your fingers weaved through blades of fading grass.
Then a wet nose sniffed your cheek.
It made you smile, eyes still closed and fingers still feeling at the soil. The smokehound huffed through its nose, warm breath skating across your cheek before the cool Autumn air chilled it once again, and then it sat. Still as a soldier, it looked toward the trees and guarded, watching the surrounding woods and not giving you another glance.
It did not so much as blink when Eris stormed through the trees, his eyes wild and chest heaving. You did though; you couldn't help it. Legs moving automatically, you stood as he approached.
But the fire in his eyes had you taking a hesitant step back.
The smokehound's guard dropped, allowing Eris to burn a path directly to you. But with the chaos flaming in his gaze, you almost expected the hound to move in front of you in defense. You tried to prepare yourself as Eris's large form loomed over you, strong hands immediately coming up to grasp your forearms tightly, but you couldn't. He dragged you to him with a desperation that left you gripping his shirt for balance. His fire scorched your skin, traveling deep into your muscles, your veins, and warming your entire body.
Eris shook, and it brought back the memory of a few days prior, his hands trembling as he removed them from his pockets and kicked you out of this very spot. His night attire looked rumpled and his breaths came out staggered as he ducked his head to meet your gaze. The fire there held anger, but it held more too; fear and helplessness swirled in the depths of his irises, stoking the flames higher and higher and higher.
"Why are you here?" He choked out, and it sounded almost like a sob to your ears.
His grip was tight, fingers digging into the tendons of your arm, as he looked over you briefly. You finally found your voice as his haunted gaze met your own again. "I needed to talk to you."
His humorless laugh was quiet but impactful. His head hang low between his shoulders in exasperation, before he forced you to look at him. "You are tempting a fate you do not deserve. You need to leave now, do you hear me?"
"Eris, I don't understand any-"
"Please," his face crumpled for a moment, his hands leaving your forearms to grasp your cheeks and jaw. "I'm begging you."
If you thought Eris had unraveled that night in the House of Wind, this was his destruction. Previously, you had watched as he let his control go; now, you watched as he had it taken from him unwillingly. By you. And you didn't even know how.
His amber eyes shone, a wetness building in the corners that he gritted his teeth to hold back. Eris Vanserra was near tears, panic and frustration and fear flowing out of him in powerful waves.
A flame of worry rose up inside you, right next to that all-too familiar ache. It moved you forward, just like that night in the kitchen when you threw yourself into his kiss. Only tonight, you threw yourself into his entire body. An inexplicable need to be close and comfort one another overpowered anything else. That rope inside you took you there, acting as a rubber band to bury your head into his chest and wrap your arms around his torso so tightly your muscles hurt.
You breathed him in, and for the first time in weeks, the ache was completely gone.
Eris froze, hands still hovering in the air where they previously gripped your face. Then you felt him give in. His entire body collapsed into you, his weight both comforting and searching. He held you so tight. One arm wrapped completely around your shoulders to force you into him as close as he could while the other cradled your head, fingers tangling and gripping the hair there like a lifeline.
Those same earlier tears of exhaustion and anxiety welled in your eyes again. "I'm so confused, Eris."
"I know."
"I don't know what is going on."
"I know."
"I don't even know if I can trust you."
His voice cracked. "I know."
You buried into him for what felt like hours but was no longer than a couple minutes. It wasn't enough. You could have stayed there forever. Breathing him in, protected by the feeling of him, surrounded by his warmth.
Despite everything in your body telling you not to, you pulled back, keeping his shirt bunched up in your fist. The moon highlighted half of his face and his dark auburn hair looked nearly black in the night. It fell messily, just as frantic and unsure as the rest of him.
His thumb brushing a tear from your cheek disrupted your admiration of him.
You didn't understand anything. You didn't even really know him. But something in you did. Some part of you knew him just like some part of him knew you.
You had known when you came here that he would find you. And he did. Something was there.
You wanted to kiss him, to be so close to him that you combined into one. The thought of him not even being by your side soon had anxiety sparking low in your stomach.
"It's not just you." He spoke so close to you that his lips brushed against yours. The wetness from your tears transferred from your own lips to his, and they glistened, not mocking your emotion but sharing it between you somehow. You almost leaned forward to take the tears from him too. To share his with you and yours with him again and again and again.
Eris was looking at you so intensely. He was so beautiful. The moonlight, the spark in his amber eyes as if the stars were glinting off the gemstone just right, and the wetness on his full lips all mesmerized you.
You burned and burned and burned. Completely overwhelmed and flooding with a blazing longing. You had never experienced this before. It was foreign, all-consuming, almost sacred.
Sacred.
The word echoed in your mind.
Sacred.
Sacred.
Sacred.
Sacred.
The reverence. The possibilities. What it could mean.
Your voice was small, filled with vulnerability when you spoke, hesitantly searching those smoldering tear-filled eyes. "Eris..."
Lashes low, gaze attentive, he waited.
"Are we...?"
Then he kissed you.
Completely different from the times before with no expectation of sex nor guarantee of safety. With a passion you felt in your veins, his mouth claimed yours, completely swallowing your words. His long lashes fluttered against your cheek as his hands caressed your jaw. He moved into you with a sensual but powerful grace, and you could do nothing but melt back into him helplessly.
He consumed you, and you let him. You let him pull you in closer, one palm moving to your hip and gripping with a claim and a promise. You let him groan against your lips, tongue tangled in your own, wanting more and more and more. You let him take whatever he needed and you took in return. You bit his lip and ran your fingers up his sleep shirt. You dug your nails into his soft skin and hard abs, whimpering at his strength.
You didn’t want to ever let go. The ache was gone. That roaring pain in your chest finally silenced, and you felt warm, and happy, and safe.
But the tears falling from his cheek onto yours were cooling that wonderful burn, and you didn't want them to smother the flame. They melted into the soft skin and your body greedily absorbed them, feeding your lonely soul with his anguish, because you would take anything he was offering.
Eris let you go.
Slowly, he pulled his lips from yours, but he moved in to meet you once more momentarily -- as if some magnetized force worked between you two, as if he absolutely could not help it -- before pulling away completely.
The wetness in his lashes glinted in the moonlight as his eyes opened to meet your own.
He took a moment to just look at you. His amber eyes, brighter and more red than orange or yellow from his tears, swept over your face with a look of heartbreaking adoration. That look alone convinced you that what he said was true: whatever was happening here wasn't just you.
You could only imagine you looked the same as you watched him. His brows furrowed, lips trembling from either emotion or tightly held self-control. Then he lifted his hand and you watched it shake as he dragged a knuckle across your tear-stained cheek, just feeling you, worshipping your skin and your very existence in front of him.
He swallowed harshly before clenching his teeth in a moment of resolve, his jaw muscle jumping in response. The words looked like they pained him. “I need you to leave.”
It was a plea. A desperate, heart-wrenching plea. And you had never heard Eris Vanserra truly plea or beg.
Your body raged as you stepped back. Because even if you wanted to stay with him, that same voice deep down that said you knew him also told you to listen and trust him. Heart beating painfully, tears refilling, you lifted your chin to meet his gaze.
Just one more moment. One more moment of looking, just like before this all started. One more moment of peace.
A bark sounded in the distance. Eris hardened further at the noise, fists clenching at his sides as he took a step back of his own.
“Go.”
A command from the heir to the throne. The power it held was undeniable, but it softened as it reached you. He didn’t look away even as the barking grew in volume and lessened in distance. It was almost as if he couldn’t.
So you nodded. Another step back. You gritted your teeth, forcing your tears down. Looked at Eris's beauty, at his devastated expression, and held it. Then you tried to be strong, closing your eyes, and breathing in that cool air, allowing it fill your lungs and that empty space inside you. As you let it go, you winnowed back to Velaris.
Away from your mate.