Following the night Eris stumbled upon you on the roof, your life begins to change in ways unexpected. What once began as mere accident turns into a plethora of late nights spent together as the both of you grow closer, finding camaraderie under the starry skies of Velaris.
Pairing: Eris Vanserra x f!reader
Warnings: brief mentions of domestic abuse, priestess reader, secret mate bond, longing, slow burn, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers kinda, lil bit of fluff
Word Count: 14.3k
A/N: Part three of To Catch A Priestess has arrived! Now we’re really getting into the connection between these two and I kinda fell in love with them and their journey, which is why there’s still two more parts to this 🤭
Thank you so much @harvest-bunny for all the writing help and for beta reading this! 💕
ERIS
He’d stayed there with her all night.
They hadn’t spoken, but she’d eventually relaxed enough to lower herself to the ground and sit in the same spot where she’d been standing. Eris had thought of a dozen things to say, but had held his tongue. He hadn’t known what she needed, but excessive talking probably wouldn’t have helped things.
A part of him wondered if his presence had helped calm her though. Not just because of who he was to her—despite her not knowing—but because she wasn’t alone in that moment.
He’d actually been surprised at how fast the night had passed. He’d spent the time observing her, watching her, memorizing her. It had been the first time he’d truly seen her without the hood of her priestess robe on her head—something he hadn’t realized until long after they’d fallen silent. At some point, she’d pushed it back off of her head and he’d missed the action—likely too stunned by the entire scenario to catch the motion.
Her unbound hair had fallen loosely past her shoulders in a smooth curtain, long strands cascading over her chest and arms. Even from a distance it looked like spun silk. For a while she’d sat with her head tilted downwards, not even looking at him. He’d taken notice of how the tips of her arched ears poked out of her hair while her head was bent forward. She’d sat there, a finger tracing patterns only she could discern along the ground. If that had been what she’d needed, he wasn’t about to be the one to deprive her of it.
So he’d sat with her. First counting the rise and falls of her chest—listening so very closely to the way her breathing eventually evened out again. He’d noticed when her pulse no longer sounded frantic and became a steadier rate. He saw when the fear eventually began to soften, the scent of it completely vanishing. He’d watched as slowly her body began to relax, one muscle at a time.
Whatever terrors she’d been battling had clearly loosened its hold on her—had no longer had its claws in her.
Other than a sniffle here and there, he could tell her tears had dried—and even though he knew he had absolutely no idea how to offer comfort, every inch of him fought the urge to. It had been the most puzzling thing. He knew why, of course. But it still didn’t mean any of it had made sense.
In the quiet of the night—in the quiet between them—he’d had a lot of time to think. About her, about himself, about the bond.
Though the anger wasn’t present like it had been in the early days, he was still left with the confusion he’d felt from the very beginning—left wondering why he was tied to a female that deserved much better than he could ever offer her. Though his wonderings had begun with him and his woes, his mind quickly turned towards her as he’d studied her.
What had occurred to cause such fear in her? What kind of horrid person had affected her so deeply that she lived with ghosts only she could see?
Clearly, it had to be something dreadful. Eris had gathered as much from the brief explanation Rhysand had once given him. All the priestesses in the library had faced nightmares worse than some of the horrid beasts Prythian could ever conjure.
But the female that had been before him that night…she wasn’t the same one he’d seen in training on a semi-regular basis. At least it wasn’t the same one he’d come to know in the last little while. She’d grown stronger, gained confidence in herself and abilities, had started to come out of her shell—all things he’d observed.
This female had seemed to try to make herself smaller—make herself disappear.
The sound of a soft shuffle of feet against the ground and rustle of the fabric of her robes had made his attention snap fully to her again, pulling him from his thoughts. She’d pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Resting a cheek against the top of her bent legs, she’d settled and faced away from him. As if she’d been trying to fold in on herself.
Every shift of her body, every sound she’d made, he’d instantly catalogued, always on alert to ensure she was still alright. Something in his chest had ached at the sight of her. He didn’t know her story, but seeing that broken female across from him had made him hope that one day he’d get the chance to hear her story.
It had been Azriel who’d stumbled upon them, at least an hour before sunrise. It shouldn’t have surprised Eris since the shadowsinger definitely seemed to be the type to be awake and ready to start his day well before most of the world.
She’d scrambled to her feet the moment his boots scuffed the ground at the archway of the stairs. Eris couldn’t tell exactly what the Illyrian thought of the scenario he’d walked into, but Azriel had given him a quick dip of the chin before approaching her. Though he gave her an appropriate amount of space, he murmured something to her, too low for Eris to hear. She’d simply nodded before heading towards the archway that led to the stairs—which meant she’d have to pass by him as well.
As she did, she’d looked his way.
Too many conflicted emotions had swirled in those pretty eyes of hers. Underneath them were dark and heavy circles and not just from the long night. She’d almost looked like she’d been about to say something. Instead, she’d looked away and walked toward the stairs—back to the library she resided in.
As he’d watched her retreating form, his soul seemed to scream at him.
Help her.
But that was the cruelest twist of fate—because he had no idea how.
The sight haunted him for days.
•••
You couldn’t explain the disappointment you’d felt when Eris hadn’t shown up at training for several days, a crushing weight suddenly settling in your chest. Which was preposterous. You hardly knew the male.
You’d regretted not thanking him for staying with you. You’d been about to that morning as you’d passed by, but shame had stopped you. He’d probably thought you were nothing but a fool for being so frightened by his unintentional sneaking up on you.
But then he’d stayed.
You’d figured he’d meant only for a few minutes—perhaps until he realized you weren’t going to fall apart. But he’d sat there with you, in complete silence. He hadn’t pushed you to talk, had respected your boundaries and space, but had also shown patience with you. All of it which you felt you hadn’t deserved.
Especially since he knew you as little as you did him.
But something about it had…helped—this odd occurrence. In some strange way it’d felt magical, though no fae magic had actually been involved. It was as if his silent presence and support had been just what you’d needed that night.
How different he had been from the male you’d encountered in the library which now felt so long ago.
When Azriel had arrived on the roof—much earlier than any of the trainees—you’d been worried he’d be angry with you or scold you for being where you didn’t belong. But instead, he’d simply asked if you were okay then proceeded to give you the morning free of training, to sleep.
You’d had no idea how he seemed to recognize it had been a bad night for you. Perhaps he’d witnessed it happen with Gwyn—as you and she used to meet some nights when both of you were dragged from nightmares of your pasts.
You’d also had no idea what Azriel might’ve thought of Eris’s presence. It confused you—the unfamiliar comfort you’d found in a near stranger—though maybe it was from not being alone in a bad moment.
When Eris had returned to training a couple of days after the nighttime incident, nothing was said about it. So, you’d tried to go back to normal—move on and forget about it.
You’d needed to focus on your lessons anyway since according to Cassian and Azriel, it wouldn’t be long before the group as a whole would be moving on to preliminary work with the steel blades. It had both delighted and terrified you. You’d once never imagined joining training let alone getting this far, improving this much.
Despite your desire to wholly focus on your training, you couldn’t help the intrigue that continuously pulled you to Eris. While he’d once been intimidating and frightening, you’d started to find him more of a mystery—left to puzzle out the odd run-ins you’d been having with him in your time since knowing him.
Your eyes still found the male during the next week of training—this time though, he hadn’t bothered hiding his staring back. He was so mysterious to you. Even more mysterious was the pull you felt to him—how fast the apprehension had faded then morphed into curiosity. Perhaps all it had taken was a night spent in silent solidarity.
Also odd, was after that midnight practice session with the sparring block, something else in you had changed.
Curiously plagued with insomnia more now, and you kept finding yourself in the training ring more nights than not now. Even when it didn’t involve running from bad memories and nightmares, you found the extra energy burned helped relax you and tire you enough to get a few hours of sleep.
The next several times you wandered up to practice, you had the ring to yourself, something you’d fully expected every time—that first clearly being an anomaly.
Which was exactly why you’d been so surprised to find Eris once again.
It was another sleepless night in a frequently reoccurring pattern.
You’d never slept amazingly, but in the last year, you’d been able to get a passable amount of sleep, despite the occasional nightmares you’d still had. Lately though, these nights hadn’t been filled with bad memories, you just couldn’t sleep.
You’d begun feeling a restless sort of energy, a desire—a tug—to be somewhere else but bed. It was as if your body was itching to move, so you constantly found yourself treading up the stairs and back to the training ring.
That first night—besides the obvious distress of the nightmare, bad memories and Eris sneaking up on you—you’d realized it’d actually felt good to expel some of the emotion and energy you’d needed to get out. So that second time when you’d felt that same sort of peace afterwards, you’d done it for a third night. A fourth.
You eventually lost count as the nights had gone by and it started to become a nightly ritual. Almost as if you couldn’t sleep well until you’d moved your body the extra amount it needed—despite having hours of training in the mornings and packed days in the library.
But this night was different—something you noticed immediately when you’d cleared the archway from the stairwell. You blinked in disbelief at the sight before you.
There, leaning against the wooden punching block, hands in the pockets of his finely tailored pants stood Eris.
On the roof.
In the training ring.
At three a.m.
“I figured to not startle you this time, perhaps I should arrive first.”
You didn’t know whether to laugh or gape. Which, a beat later, you found curious. Once, you’d have thought Eris showing up at a place you were at, again—and technically for a third time—would’ve been nefarious. A warning sign. Something too much like Finneas.
But you currently too confused, too intrigued as to why Eris—heir to another court on the other end of Prythian—was in the Night Court and up here in the middle of the night. You’d apparently settled for gaping as you finally pulled yourself together enough to ask the most important question.
“What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, nonchalantly.
“I heard the view was nice.”
His eyes fell to your already wrapped hands. You’d fallen into this habit so much lately, you’d taken some supplies back to the dormitory in the library so you could save yourself a few minutes. At least it provided you with the ability to wrap them properly in the light of your room instead of shadowy darkness.
“Late night practice, I take it?”
You had so many questions, but you simply nodded.
“Helps clear my mind.”
Eris only nodded, but it didn’t seem to be a dismissal of what you said. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, it almost looked like he knew exactly what you meant.
“Do you mind if I watch? I’ll stay out of your way.”
His words seemed casual, but he also seemed to be holding his breath—as if he fully expected you to say no. Maybe that’s why you didn’t.
“That’s fine.”
He stepped further away now—much closer than he had been that night he’d sat up here with you, but still enough to give you some space. Tonight, he was only a few feet away. The way he appeared to be aware of your need to have space—as to not make you uncomfortable—warmed something in your chest.
“Don’t be too harsh. Not all of us are generals, you know.”
You swore you heard a sharp exhale of breath, perhaps in amusement. When you peered over at him though, his face remained serious as he watched you, saying nothing. You sighed quietly, trying not to let his presence intimidate you. Not because he was a male or even due to his typical demeanor, but because of his observation of your skills.
Once the first punch came, everything else, Eris included, disappeared from around you.
You quickly became involved, all your focus narrowing to your target. It was only when he spoke after your final landing blow, that you were reminded of his presence again.
“You’ve improved greatly.”
Your chest heaved from the exertion, sweat dampening your brow. You’d taken to pulling your hair back in a tight braid, leaving your hood off for this.
“You mean for a female that’s not all that great at training?” you parroted his words from a month earlier.
His lips pressed together. You couldn’t tell if it was in irritation or not.
“I fear I may have made some uncalled for and presumptuous assumptions.”
You simply hummed, turning back to the block as if contemplating starting another round. You still felt wide awake, your body buzzing. Though you weren’t quite sure if that was because of energy you’d yet to expel or the male in your presence.
“Can I offer you a piece of advice?”
He sounded nowhere near the snarky insufferable male he had in the library. No condescension dripped from his tone as it had that afternoon. No, he actually sounded genuine, even if it came off rather neutral—as if trying not to sound too eager nor too reprimanding.
“Of course.”
“When you lunge into the punch with your left, you’re still a bit too stiff in your posture. If you loosen your hips and unlock your knees, you’ll get a stronger and more precise strike. Can I show you?”
You braced yourself for him to touch you—which you would’ve given him permission to do—but he surprised you, demonstrating what he meant with his own body. You watched as he showed you again and you mimicked the move.
He nodded, gesturing for you to try the newly corrected positioning out. You did, throwing a harder, more direct punch with your left hand.
“Did you feel the difference?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, astonished, “It felt more powerful.”
You swore you saw something like pride flicker across his face.
“If you want to continue, don’t let me stop you.”
He inclined his head towards the block, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips.
Something in you rose to the challenge.
“Maybe it’s time I show a general how it’s done,” you said, perhaps with a touch more confidence than you were wise to have.
The future High Lord actually looked amused. He merely crossed his arms and waited patiently.
So you turned back to your opponent, the wooden block, raised your arms and began again—this time including the corrections in your stance that he’d given you.
You never did find out why he was on the roof that night.
You blinked away the memory from just a few days earlier, still trying to come to terms with what it meant. Unsurprisingly, even though your mind and attention had drifted, your body had kept up with every single drill that Azriel and Cassian took turns calling out.
As time had ticked by, Eris had migrated from watching by far walls or the sidelines, towards the front, observing as if at any moment he would be the one to throw out an order.
“You want to get some practice in while you’re here, princeling?” you heard Cassian taunt, challenge in his voice.
Your eyes shot to Eris who was rolling his shoulders.
“Might as well. It’d do me good to stay sharp. Would you care to show these ladies a proper sword fight?”
You picked up the hint of challenge in the Autumn male’s tone too, an eyebrow raised just a bit.
You’d never fully picked up on what sort of relationship the male had with Cassian and Azriel, but they seemed cordial enough. It also struck you that it likely wasn’t often something like this happened—an individual from another court being so involved with training here.
Azriel, next to them, shrugged. There’d been a few instances that Cassian and Azriel had demonstrated for you and your fellow priestesses—something you were positive they’d done for Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie’s tutelage too.
“Since they’ll be starting with the steel blades next week, it’d be a good introduction,” the shadowsinger said.
Cassian jerked his chin towards the weapon rack that was just behind you.
“Grab a blade then.”
You peered over your shoulder at the line of properly stored blades, eyeing them. You weren’t entirely sure what urged you to do it, but you turned fully—missing the male strolling across the ring towards the rack already.
You grabbed the one nearest to you, momentarily surprised at its weight. You tucked your own wooden practice sword under your arm so you could get a better grip on the sword to hand it over. Your hand curled around the hilt, blade facing downward.
You turned, not realizing his long strides had quickly delivered Eris right before you. You didn’t startle, though you suddenly felt a tad foolish and shy, even as you were trying to be helpful.
“Here,” you said softly, holding it out to him.
Eris merely blinked at you for a moment before reaching out and taking it from you.
“Thank you.”
You lifted your eyes to his fully—just for a second—and nodded slightly, a small smile on your face. His own pale face seemed…softer, more contemplative. You were close enough to see the freckles that dotted the handsome features.
In fact, you realized as he turned to leave, it had been the first time you’d been so close—willingly to the male.
As he returned to Cassian, your eyes met a variety of intrigued and curious faces of both Illyrians, Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn—the latter with her brows raised high. They’d clearly noted every movement of the interaction and had most definitely taken interest.
Something like fate seemed to be stirring—shifting—within the walls of this training ring in far more ways than just the female unit being formed.
So it truly should’ve come as no surprise when you entered the training ring that night to find Eris there.
•••
ERIS
Somehow, they’d fallen into a pattern. Somehow, Eris found himself unable to stay away.
“How are you always up here?”
She peered at him curiously—a tad suspiciously—as she cleared the archway from the stairwell into the training ring. It had started to become a normal thing for him to be here nightly where she, too, always seemed to be. It was ironic if he thought about it. A pull to one another that only he understood.
The mating bond. Something he’d yet to let himself think much of yet. But after that first night, then the next one where he’d watched her at the sparring block, had helped her with her stance, it had become impossible to ignore.
That deeply buried desire to always be around her kept flaring within him at the most inopportune times. Between visits to Velaris—which by this point was multiple times a week—he felt the tug to return to the city as soon as possible, even amidst his daily duties in Autumn. Even during the Valkyries’ training, he fought the urge to constantly be closer to her.
Instincts had become louder nowadays. He’d traded his resentment and anger for curiosity. Quite similar to how she’d traded her initial apprehension for intrigue, as well. At least so it had appeared.
Her comment upon arriving had his lips twitching. She had fire in her, just the faintest hint of a flickering flame right now, but he still caught it.
“Let’s just say I made a bet with an Illyrian and the Illyrian lost,” he drawled.
In all honesty, Rhysand had actually lifted the wards that prevented anyone from winnowing directly into the house on top of this mountain. Likely, he was probably sick of transporting Eris all the time. But perhaps, it had been a gesture of good faith, a favor to him, likely even a nudge. Whatever it was, for some reason, Eris found himself grateful.
“Does the Autumn Court not have any place where one could alleviate their insomnia?”
“Who says I have trouble sleeping?”
She looked at him, unamused.
“Why else would anyone with sense be up at this hour, not to mention, traveling to an entirely different court?”
He smirked, eyeing her in the moonlight. Other than the first two nights he’d spent with her, every other time he’d seen her, she’d kept her hood up and invoking stone on. Tonight was no different.
“Well, the Autumn Court doesn’t have views like this.”
She positively snorted.
“I find that hard to believe.”
He shrugged, casually, eyeing her hands and seeing no wraps there like there usually was.
“Well, let’s just say, it’s…different here.”
She nodded as if accepting the answer, unmotivated to press further. His eyes flickered to her hands again.
“No hand to hand combat tonight?”
“No,” was all she simply said.
He watched curiously as she picked up one of the swords that hung nearby on the weapons rack and approached him with it—so very similarly to how she had just a week ago.
Eris had been stunned when she’d approached him, had been so thrown off he was certain he’d gaped at her—simply because in all his time knowing her, she’d hesitated and downright avoided voluntarily approaching any male. But then she’d approached him with that sword.
Something had changed in him that day—something quiet that he couldn’t pinpoint. But a sort of protectiveness had started settling into his chest, a kind that felt deeper than just from the unanswered bond he’d been carrying around.
Once again, she handed him the blade and his brows raised in surprise.
“I want to see how you fight,” she said.
“You want me to demonstrate?”
“Yes.”
“With no opponent.”
“Yes.”
“So just a demonstration of my tactics?” he pressed.
“I realize as a general you tend to give orders but is really that hard to receive them?”
This time his mouth quirked, an eyebrow arching at the snark in her tone.
“Very well. Step aside and prepare to be left in awe.”
Normally, a remark like that from him would be filled with nothing but arrogance—for good reason too—but this time, he couldn’t help the playful edge to his words.
“Of course, your majesty.”
He didn’t rise to her taunt, steeling his body, positioning himself before he launched into motion.
Without an actual opponent, it was harder to demonstrate different movements properly, but not impossible. Eris imagined an invisible opponent before him as he moved. He dodged and pivoted, twisting through each movement as his blade sliced effortlessly through the night air.
He imagined himself advancing on the phantom opponent, driving them backwards. Eris stepped in, struck and slid out—a movement that kept one guarded and anticipating the next strike.
Something he prided himself on during a sword fight was his ability to keep his opponent on their toes. Whether it was from a feint or an angle change, he never struck the same place twice, never angled his body the exact same way too often.
Instead of retreating from the imaginary foe, he slid sideways, stepping back diagonally as he imagined the opponent’s strike towards him. He repositioned at the exposed flank, knowing in a real sword fight, he’d perform the same movement.
Eris could picture the individual in front of him, blade flicking and aiming for the shoulder only at the last second to redirect the blade towards the ribs. Even in a pretend fight, he anticipated what the other person would do, could practically hear the sound of the blade slicing through the air, could see the glint of metal as it was directed towards his open and vulnerable side.
Quick on his feet, he spun on his heel, away from the oncoming attack, his curtain of red hair swishing through the air in response to the quick movement.
In reality, he knew sparring of such kind could go on for quite some time—either until one surrendered, was forced to surrender or was defeated. To wrap it up, Eris angled the sword into mid air, capturing the opponent’s sword against his own. He pictured how it would look for metal to press against metal, his sword crossed against the other’s. With a sharp flick of his wrist—sending his blade moving downward and away—he wrenched the weapon from invisible fingers.
Eris stepped back, dropping his sword to his side, his chest heaving. He’d gotten caught up in the intricate dance of swordplay, expelling more energy than he’d originally planned to for this demonstration.
He’d initially planned to just walk through some steps, demonstrating some generic movements, but found himself caught up in the tantalizing rhythm of sparring. It was something he’d always enjoyed, the intricate maneuvers of a sword fight, every movement carefully planned and thought out.
The rhythm and flow of sparring made his blood roar every time, the sensation it evoked in him intoxicating. He wasn’t sure why he enjoyed it so much other than the fact it was something he could lose himself in every single time.
Sometimes in training, sparring allowed him to turn off other parts of his brain that tended to be too loud—focus all his energy on something else for a bit. It was a way to use his cunning mind—one that was perfect for thinking through every possible outcome—for something other than twisted politics and courtly matters. It was something that replenished him rather than drained him.
He’d also be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t put more effort into it than intended, just to show off a tad, as well.
Eris was surprised to see her looking rather entranced like she’d just witnessed a performance at the theater and not him acting out a one-sided sword fight. Her lips were parted in surprise, head tilted slightly as if she’d watched every single maneuver, though she likely couldn’t yet pick apart single movements in the blur of the fast motions.
His next statement came naturally, without having to give it a second thought.
“I can teach you some of the footwork, if you’d like.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
Though Eris realized she likely knew the basics, she didn’t seem to object when he ran through the different things with her.
“Feet shoulder width apart. Don’t plant your feet. I realize you know all of this but—”
Her eyes were focused on his feet as she copied him but they shot up to his face.
“It’s okay.”
Eris simply nodded, but she continued.
“As you said, it will be slightly different when I have a real blade in my hand.”
He didn’t comment further, but resumed his instructions.
“It’s important to always stay light on your feet. In any confrontation—in a sword fight—you need to move quickly, nimbly.”
“You’d have hated to see me in my first weeks of lessons,” she mumbled.
He chuckled lowly, pulling a surprised look from her as she once again met his eyes. As if she was surprised he could make such a sound.
Truthfully, he was surprised a bit himself.
He cleared his throat, continuing on.
“Something I do—something I’ve taught my soldiers—when you dodge a strike, don’t fall into the habit of taking a step back. Even though your body is tempted to.”
“How come?”
“You lose ground and opportunity.”
She blinked at him and he realized this sort of lesson was likely far more advanced than she’d yet learned. But something in him kept going, even if it sounded like nonsense to her at the moment.
It was like he couldn’t help continuing talking to her—didn’t want it to stop.
“Noted. So what do you do instead?”
“You might’ve seen me do it but—”
“I saw you do plenty of things that looked complicated but were as effortless as a dance. Not all of us non-warriors are capable of such a performance,” she broke in, with more than a tiny bit of sass in her tone.
Eris arched a brow.
“I would guess it pays off that I also know how to ballroom dance,” he replied, dryly.
“Of course you do,” she huffed, as if that were no surprise.
His lips twitched at her exasperation, at the teasing and ease that had somehow slipped into their conversation.
“May I continue or are you going to spend all night being snarky during your extra lesson?”
She sighed heavily as if affronted, but he swore a ghost of a smile painted her lips.
“You may continue,” she said, waving a hand, “You said you demonstrated the movement you’re speaking of at some point during your dramatic and flawless performance?”
He couldn’t help the smile that actually formed this time at her words, the warmth that her teasing brought to his chest. But he continued with his explanation, trying to remain serious.
“Yes. When retreating from a strike, your foot needs to step backwards diagonally. You angle your body outwards and it gives you a chance to survive longer.”
She looked contemplative as if she was turning his explanation over in her head.
“I think I’ve noticed Cassian and Azriel doing that when they’ve demonstrated for us before.”
Eris nodded.
“They probably have. It’s not an uncommon tactic in sword combat.”
She fell silent and against all of his good sense, he blurted the first question that he’d been wondering about.
“Why don’t you let Azriel or Cassian near you?”
Why do you only let me? was the silent, unspoken question that followed his voiced one.
She looked hesitant—almost ashamed—as if the truth would strip her bare more than she cared to be. Since he’d put her in an uncomfortable position, Eris attempted to throw her a lifeline.
“I may not always see eye to eye with them but they are good males. They would never harm you—or let anything happen to you ever again. Neither would I.”
It had likely been too honest—but if she’d caught on to his own vulnerability, she didn’t let on. In fact her face turned determined as she looked up at him, a grim set to her features.
“I refuse to let anything happen to myself, too. After all, that’s why I joined training in the first place.”
He felt that strange taut warmth beneath his ribs again, followed by a hollow tightness that nearly stole the breath from him. In that moment, everything in him felt drawn to her at a higher intensity than he’d yet to feel. He had to casually cross his hands behind his back to conceal how tightly they’d curled into fists, an attempt to control himself. But she spoke again before he could find the appropriate words to say in response.
“I refuse to be weak ever again.”
Eris wished he had the courage to tell her that she was anything but. That she had just as much metaphorical fire in her as he did, magically.
“Well, I think I’ve occupied enough of your time for one night. Thank you for the impromptu lesson.”
That tether in him felt like it twisted, a hint of panic spiking through him at the fact that she intended to leave soon. But then Eris looked at her face and reassessed her intentions.
The dark circles of that initial meeting had faded some and she didn’t look nearly as haunted as that night, but they were still there. He could tell she was tired, the presence of those shadows under her eyes alerting him to the fact that she hadn’t slept well in some time.
“My pleasure. I hope you can get some rest.”
She’d wrapped her arms around herself, whether to protect herself from the late night chill or to protect herself from her earlier vulnerability, he wasn’t sure. But her eyes found his as she nodded.
“I hope you can too, Eris.”
Then she was passing him, taking the path that led back indoors. She paused after only a few footfalls, turning back to him slightly.
“See you soon?” she asked, though he thought it sounded a tad hopeful.
His voice was hoarse as he answered her, honestly.
“Of course.”
Seemingly satisfied with that answer, she parted from him with a small smile sent his way—one that made his stomach flip.
As he watched her depart towards the stairwell Eris got the sneaking suspicion that there was much more to the female than he’d ever once thought.
•••
It didn’t even surprise you anymore when you walked into the shadowed training ring in the middle of the night and found Eris already there waiting for you.
In fact, it had grown to be a comfort.
You’d stopped questioning how or why he always managed to be there, how you’d managed to fall into this pattern with the male and started accepting maybe it was just meant to be. Even if it was for a short period of time, you’d quickly stopped taking advantage of it. Though most nights you still braced yourself as you climbed the stairs, halfway expecting this to be the night he wasn’t there.
But he was. Every time.
What had started as training help—Eris helping you improve on your posture or skills that you were a tad weaker in, amongst other things—somehow started to morph into conversation.
At first it was safe territory. He would keep his distance—though not as nearly far as he did that first night—and talk about training.
“Are you eager to start with the steel blade soon?” he’d asked you one night.
You’d merely shrugged, trying to downplay any excitement and apprehension, simply answering you were always eager to learn more, to become stronger.
By this point you’d lost count of how many times you’d met Eris up on this roof. But somehow, with each meeting, the distance between the two of you seemed to shrink. At some point, you two had started drifting closer as if drawn to one another in ways neither of you could explain—or even bothered to address.
It was something that simply…happened.
Tonight, you comfortably sat next to him. There was still at least a few inches between you and him, but it didn’t bother you. You leaned back on your hands, looking up at the night sky through the opening at the top of the ring.
The sky was inky black but peppered with thousands of pinpricks of white, the stars shining so bright. Sometimes it hurt to know how long you’d been cooped up in the library, missing such beautiful wonders like this. There were spelled windows in the dormitories, but still, nothing captured it quite like being outside to see the beautiful sight.
Tonight though, conversation dipped into more familiar territory, more personal.
“I believe we got off on the wrong foot. You know—” his head tilted towards the House, indicating the library underneath.
You raised an eyebrow as you peered his direction before lifting your eyes back to the star flecked sky.
“I’d say that’s putting it mildly.”
He huffed a breath—something like an agreement or an acknowledgment of what you said to be true.
“I’d still like to apologize. My less than stellar mood was not your fault.”
He sounded sincere.
You turned back to him, contemplating his words. He’d turned from you, eyes on the high stone walls that blocked any sort of view other than the one through the opening high above—unless you were to sit high above the training ring.
You took in his profile—the pale freckled skin, strong jaw, straight nose, pale pink lips.
A part of you wondered why a handsome fae heir like him spent so much time with you, what catch there had to be to his attention. You weren’t necessarily comparing him to Finneas as much these days—Eris certainly didn’t seem to be like the unpredictable, abusive male you’d tangled with in your past—but you’d been taught to be hesitant, to second guess any sort of generosity.
But maybe here, you didn’t need to.
“I forgive you,” you uttered.
You’d learned in many sessions with your counselor how healthy—how important—it was to approach apologies by not saying ‘it’s okay’ when a good portion of situations that called for an apology weren’t okay. It was a bad habit you’d fallen into every time you’d accepted countless apologies from Finneas—ones you had soon come to realize meant very little. Especially when he’d only turn around and break his promise of ‘never again’.
Eris turned to you, catching the difference, but didn’t seem to take offense. In fact, he seemed surprised at the distinction, perhaps even looked quietly appreciative that you hadn’t brushed away his actions to make him feel better. After all, he seemed to be a male that didn’t bother with niceties nor did he dance around his intentions.
You didn’t know what you expected him to say next, but what he responded with actually caught you off guard.
“Is there a reason you usually keep the hood up? Or the invoking stone on? I notice others don’t seem to as often as you.”
He wasn’t asking to be rude, but asked with genuine curiosity, his amber eyes taking in your appearance—momentarily flicking upwards to the priestess hood and invoking stone. You paused yourself, reflecting on the question, actually searching inward because it wasn’t something you had an easy answer for.
There was no rule that a priestess had to wear them at all times and they were never shamed for removing them—as many did for training sessions. You chewed on the corner of your lower lip as you turned contemplative.
Eris watched you the entire time.
“I suppose it’s just habit—comfort. For five years it’s been a constant in life, so it accidentally became my normal. But you’re right. There’s no need to.”
You reached up, removing the hood, pushing it back off your head.
“In fact, I feel like it hinders my ability to see during training. Which was why it was down the first night you found me here.”
Eris hadn’t responded though. In fact, it was odd as he stared at you—stared at you like he’d never seen you before. Whether it was because of your admission or the fact you’d actually removed your hood, you couldn’t be sure.
“Five years?” he asked, gently.
Your eyes dropped, not entirely sure how to broach the subject. You didn’t want to be rude and completely ignore his question, so you met him halfway.
“That is correct,” you answered softly.
Mercifully, Eris didn’t push you. Instead, surprisingly, he changed the subject—at least from the events that led you to living in the library.
“What do you do in the library? I mean, I assume everyone is tasked with different duties. I know many are acolytes and spend most of their time dedicated to research.”
Eris shifted, stretching his long legs out in front of him, crossing one over the other, the rustle of the fabric of his elegant pants loud in the quiet night. He leaned back on his hands, peering at you with a healthy dose of curiosity.
“They do. I basically fetch and shelve books. Apparently I have an excellent memory when it comes to where books are located. It’s not exactly impressive work, but it keeps my days busy,” you shrugged, a little embarrassed.
You weren’t like some of the other priestesses—Merrill for one—who busied their days with mountains of research. Or even Gwyn who had spent her time in the library being Merrill’s assistant. Your position in the library was definitely less than thrilling—nor very important.
“You also keep things running smoothly, it sounds like. Without you, I fear they’d be lost,” Eris said casually.
You huffed a laugh.
“Now you’re just trying to flatter me. I assure you, it’s not exactly grand work.”
“Perhaps not to you. But you also have a job that many aren’t willing to do—you provide source materials to those that need them, saving valuable time they can instead devote to their research. You’re an important piece in the overall puzzle,” he answered smoothly.
You blinked, surprised. You’d never once thought of it like that. Eris certainly had a way of looking at the world that differed greatly from your view.
“I supposed I never saw it that way.”
“Everyone has an important task in my forces, whether they consider it menial or not. They’re all equally as important."
You glanced sidelong at him. He was very different from the male you’d first assumed him to be, that was for sure.
“You live in a library,” Eris began.
You side eyed him, curious to where this statement was leading.
“It would truly be a tragedy if you didn’t enjoy reading.”
A breath of laughter actually escaped you at his dry remark. He looked pleasantly surprised at the noise as your lips stayed tilted upwards.
“Lucky for you, I do rather enjoy reading in my spare time.”
“What do you like to read?” he asked.
Suddenly you were grateful for the dimmer lighting—the moon briefly disappearing behind a cloud—for your cheeks turned pink at the thought of the latest book you’d read. You’d nabbed it from Gwyn when she’d accidentally left it on her last visit. You particularly enjoyed romances—though she’d told you once how Nesta and Emerie had introduced her to some more smutty romances.
All that to say, your interest had been piqued.
When she’d caught you reading it during an impromptu visit—on a day you hadn’t expected her—she hadn’t chided you, but had grinned knowingly and encouraged you to keep it until you’d finished it. It had been a delightful read.
But you certainly weren’t going to be telling Eris that.
“Different things. Usually anything that piques my interest.”
That certainly was the truth.
“Mysteries, history sometimes, poetry,” you continued on, “What about you? Do you like to read?”
His lips twitched, like the question was preposterous to ask—not at your lack of knowledge, but likely from what he answered with.
“I’m positive I’ve been in the middle of a few books at any time my entire life,” Eris quipped.
“Sounds like an excellent problem to have,” you retorted, pulling your legs to your chest, your robe rustling with the movement.
“Well books have always been a source of knowledge for me—entertainment as well—but I always put an importance on learning as much as I could from a young age. It comes in handy,” he shrugged, as if not wanting to make a bigger deal out of it than it was, “But some recreational time is spent reading, amongst other things.”
“Such as?”
You rested your cheek on your knees, facing him, and you swore he paused, watching your motion. A strange expression passed over his face. Oddly enough, it was something much softer and more at ease than you’d thought you’d ever seen on the male.
“I taught myself to play chess,” he responded.
“Did you teach yourself ballroom dancing as well?”
“Ah, you remembered that little tidbit, did you?” he smirked, eyes twinkling, “No, that came with my thorough education.”
“Sounds on par for a princeling, I’d suppose,” you quipped.
He tossed you an amused look before continuing.
“Have you ever played?”
You lifted your head, shaking it.
“I never learned how.”
He was silent for a moment as his gaze flickered over you. You half wondered what was going through his head.
“Maybe someday I can teach you.”
Strangely, your stomach fluttered at the kind gesture—even if he had no intention to. The words in itself meant a great deal to you. You felt a smile grow on your lips.
“I’d like that.”
•••
ERIS
It amazed Eris how much he started looking forward to their nightly rooftop meetings.
The fact didn’t escape him how little by little she kept letting him in—the space between them shrinking nightly, physically and emotionally. There was something about her that brought him such peace and not just because of what she was to him, but her actual presence, her companionship.
They didn’t typically sit up all night—only spending a few hours of the night together—but he knew if there was ever a time she’d want to stay until sunrise, he wouldn’t hesitate to. It also didn’t escape him that he was never the first to leave—he always waited for her to and followed her lead. It was usually when the exhaustion finally caught up to her and she knew it was time to get a few hours of sleep before sunrise.
Eris didn’t know when it had happened, but he had found he’d softened considerably towards the female. Though he’d realized it’d been happening for a while, nothing compared to how he currently felt.
For all he knew, it had to do with how the bond seemed to tug and strain more relentlessly, with more urgency lately, as if it was begging him to acknowledge it. Which he had—he’d done plenty of acknowledging it. Only to himself, that was.
He had no inkling what to do about the mating bond, but she, as an individual, was a completely different manner. He wasn’t stupid enough to—nor did he desire to—force a mating bond on her. She wasn’t his and he wasn’t entitled to her. She was her own person—one that seemed to still be healing. One that seemed to grow into a stronger female as the days and weeks passed. It had actually passed a month now since that first run in on the roof—more than two since he’d first laid eyes on her.
How far she’d come since that day.
Not only in her demeanor, confidence and strength, but also her appearance. For today, for the first time, she’d opted to attend lessons in a pair of Illyrian leathers. Some of the other priestesses had opted to make the switch long ago while others decided and preferred to stay in their robes, Eris had noticed. It had made little difference to the Illyrians and the trio of females who’d inspired this. They were happy to teach them in either.
It was different seeing her in something other than her priestess robe but pride swelled in his chest at the change. For someone that seemed to once hold tight onto what was comfortable, she was embracing change, welcoming it, actually.
And for some reason, Eris was just so damn proud of her.
Gone was the invoking stone—likely tucked away in a safe place during lessons now—and her long hair was pulled back out of her face. It now fell in a long braid down her back, whipping through the air with her movements.
He watched as the gathered group did their normal warm ups, which usually consisted of push ups, abdominal curls, squats and more equally taxing exercises. After that would follow Valkyrie sprints. That involved a pattern of exercises where they sprinted for ten seconds, trotted for thirty seconds and then returned to a full sprint for ten more seconds—repeated for fifteen minutes straight. It was unforgiving and strenuous cardio, but he watched the females push through it all, time and time again.
They didn’t typically compete with others, though Eris got the feeling that they often competed with themselves—each female striving to better herself and surpass her latest personal achievement. From watching her specifically, he knew she did exactly that. It was how she pushed and motivated herself. After all, it was what he’d recommend his own soldiers do.
During the current warm ups, Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie were right at the front as per usual, participating and learning alongside the other females—even if they occasionally led, since they were now much further advanced.
Nowadays, Eris tried constantly to also focus on the others and not spend his entire time watching her—which was what he’d just been doing when he heard Cassian speak.
“There’s no way you’re finished already.”
“Yet suspiciously I am.”
He knew that teasing tone and voice anywhere.
Eris’s eyes instantly found her sitting in her designated place, cross-legged and looking flushed, but smug. In these last few weeks Eris had started to see her personality come to life—both during lessons and in private, with him. Each tiny piece of her revealed had filled him with a sense of wonder in different ways. Mainly because it was such a far cry from the timid and fearful female he’d first met—the one who had flinched when Cassian or Azriel got too close.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her have a reaction like that. He hoped he never did again.
He still spent too much time pondering what could’ve happened to her. From what he could see, there were no physical marks left on her like the types some of the priestesses bore—but that didn’t mean there weren’t scars in places he couldn’t see. Not everyone bore physical scars like himself.
But to see her teasing, happy, laughing—though most of the latter ones only came to the surface most often with him—it did him good. Maybe that’s why he opened his mouth in the first place because he certainly hadn’t planned to.
“Don’t worry about her, Cassian, she just likes to show off. Clearly she’s learned from the best.”
Though his arms were folded, he couldn’t help the way his fingers curled on his biceps simply in reaction to the look she gave him—part surprise, part mischief. It made his blood roar and that tether deep inside him tug harder, a sense of pride and possessiveness washing over him.
He’d intentionally left the comment open ended and vague, making it sound like he could’ve been referring to Cassian or even Azriel. He saw the way her lips curved upwards, amused, laughter sparking in her eyes as she looked at him. He heard Cassian call her name and she pulled her gaze from him and turned to the Night Court General.
“Have you been sneaking in extra lessons elsewhere without my knowledge?” Cassian asked, arching a brow.
Her grin was so dazzling it did something funny to Eris. Half of him was in awe at how the bright smile lit her face, transforming it. He remembered how once he’d only wished to be on the receiving end of one of her smiles. The other half flared with envy, wishing he was on the receiving end of it now.
“I’ll never tell,” she sing-songed.
Cassian’s eyes narrowed, not believing her for a damn second before he shook his head, pointing to the ground.
“Do another fifteen abdominal curls since you’ve got time to kill.”
She groaned dramatically and flopped backwards onto the padded mat on the ground.
“Let this be an important lesson ladies,” Cassian called out, “None of you should have time to be bored.”
Even while Cassian spoke to the group, Eris could feel the Illyrian’s curious stare on him, knowing good and well the male was attempting to puzzle out what was unfolding before him—and everyone else for that matter. Before she launched into the set of exercises she’d been ordered to do, her head turned his way again, laughter dancing in her eyes.
Despite Cassian’s questioning gaze, that didn’t stop Eris from sending her a playful wink, teasing her right back. He certainly didn’t miss the blush that colored her cheeks as her gaze darted away and back to her task at hand as she launched into the first curl off the ground.
The curious stares only got worse by the end of the lesson though.
She’d made record timing on her warm ups and sprints—beating her own personal best record—then hit every single stance for the sword training, meaning she’d be able to start with the steel blade, along with the rest, soon. Considering she’d had the latest start and had the most catching up to do, it was rather impressive and showed just how hard she’d worked, how far she’d pushed herself in the months since she’d first stepped into the ring.
She was sweaty, breathless and devastatingly beautiful as she approached him. It sent his brain into dangerous territory that he quickly shook himself from. She radiated pride and joy at her day’s accomplishments.
“You did well today,” he complimented her, wholeheartedly.
“Proud of me yet?” she teased with a grin.
More than you may ever know. The silent truth floated through his mind.
“I don’t know. Only if you keep it up. Can’t have you slacking now,” he joked.
She pretended to look offended.
“The fact you think I’d have time to, is insulting. Especially with those hard asses.”
She tilted her chin over her shoulder where Cassian, Azriel and the trio of females seemed to be trying hard to look like they weren’t eavesdropping—the latter especially. If the female in front of him noticed, she didn’t comment on it.
“Be thankful you aren’t training under me. You wouldn’t have time to even think of sassing back,” he said simply.
“Oh, believe me, I’d make the time to,” she retorted, stubbornly.
He believed it too.
The wind had whipped strands of her hair free from her braid during the hours-long lesson and it kept blowing in her face as they spoke. His gaze kept focusing on it and the way she kept trying to shake it out of the way.
He thought to ask a moment before he reacted—never wanting to touch her without her permission first.
“May I?” he asked, lifting his hand slightly.
She grasped what he meant instantly. Her chin dipped in barely a nod and he reached out slowly, as not to startle her. Long, pale fingers brushed the silky strand of hair out of her face, slowly tucking it behind an arched ear.
“There,” he murmured, amber eyes meeting her own, “Better.”
Somehow the moment had turned heavier, tension filled. He could’ve sworn she leaned into his touch ever so slightly. His thumb twitched, half tempted to brush against her cheek, but he wasn’t about to take something that wasn’t offered to him.
The air between them grew taut—eerily similar to the way it had felt that infamous day when he’d felt the bond snap between them. Just like that day, there were others around. Which is exactly why he let his hand drop instantly, taking a step back to put some distance between them.
The moment instantly dissolved and she blinked, like she was waking from a dream.
They said nothing further, but she dipped her head in a farewell before taking her leave. When Eris turned back from watching her depart, he was met with the stares of five individuals. Ones that said—without the need for words—that they knew something was changing before their very eyes and they were all witnesses to it.
In truth, they only knew the half of it.
•••
“What’s your favorite color?”
You chuckled, amused at the abruptness of Eris’s random inquiry.
“Why?”
“Do you always question someone’s intentions when trying to get to know you?”
You bit your lip, recalling how, no, once you hadn’t—and at a time you’d probably should’ve. When it was crucial that you should’ve.
“No. You just caught me off guard,” you explained.
You didn’t want to get into where your mind had just gone—that is if he’d even caught your brief hesitancy. You didn’t know. Eris only awaited your answer.
It was another night under the stars, one of many that had occurred over the last few weeks. Meetings with Eris had soon felt as natural as breathing.
“Blue,” you finally answered, “And don’t laugh. I know it’s probably the most obvious answer.”
You motioned to the pale blue robe you were in and the blue of the invoking stone at your brow.
“It’s calming,” you explained.
“I wasn’t judging,” he said, voice sounding serious.
You leaned back against the stone wall the two of you rested against tonight. Your head shifted against the coolness of it as you turned to look at him. Tonight, the two of you were the closest you’d been yet, barely a hand’s width between your body and his.
“What about you? What’s your favorite color?”
He scoffed.
“I don’t have one.”
You just gaped at him.
“Come on. Everyone has a favorite color,” you prompted him.
“Well, I do not,” he said, flatly, almost unamused.
You weren’t deterred by his unenthusiasm though.
“No color is just beautiful to you or brings you peace?” you pressed.
He sighed, chest rising and falling with his deep breath, his exasperation with you apparent. But you could tell by the twinkle in his amber eyes that he wasn’t truly annoyed with you—that it was merely the sort of game you two played. You teasing him, him pretending to be aggravated—all while probably secretly enjoying the effortlessness of the back and forth dynamic.
You watched some sort of emotion flicker across his eyes—whatever he was thinking clearly evoking the brief emotion. What beautiful eyes they were.
As foolish as it sounded, those eyes had started to feel familiar—safe. They were comforting and grounding when your own would meet his amber ones during lessons—see them spark with mischief, gleam with pride or even soften in something that almost looked like care.
If you weren’t careful, sometimes you felt like you could drown in them and that was a dangerous realization.
“Well maybe not just one color,” he started.
You shrugged.
“That’s okay. Tell me anyway,” you encouraged.
“I enjoy the colors of the trees in Autumn. The jewel tones of deep reds, rusty oranges, golden yellows and rich olives, warm browns of the leaves that have already deepened past the other colors. I realize it sounds unusual, but it’s as though they blend into one beautiful color to me—the color of autumn.”
Your head tipped back as your eyes rose to the domed opening far above, the beautiful Night Court sky twinkling. You’d realized that this court—this city was the only part of this world you’d seen. Something that had shrunk into an even smaller existence after Finneas. Something within you ached with a desire to one day see the sights that Eris described—to see more of this world.
“That…sounds beautiful.”
Your voice sounded wistful to your ears as you tried to imagine the sight. Of course there was autumn in the Night Court and you’d once watched the leaves change from behind your room window—now you’d started seeing it from the training ring. But you could only imagine the beauty of autumnal leaves in the court where it was always autumn. You would bet many gold marks that the beauty was indescribable.
“Yeah,” his voice seemed to trail off, “It is.”
Only the Mother witnessed the way Eris was looking at you when he said that though.
•••
Time seemed to pass at a warp speed once the preliminary lessons with the steel blades began.
The first time you held a steel blade in your hand made you feel more powerful than you’d ever anticipated. You’d never imagined you’d one day be holding such a weapon, learning how to utilize it—how to become a weapon, yourself.
Over these last few months, you’d morphed into a female that the old you wouldn’t have even recognized. It was a better, stronger version of yourself, one that you might’ve never fathomed becoming if it hadn’t been for the events that led you here.
You were haunted less and less these days of bad memories. They were still there, but they’d loosened their hold significantly. You still struggled with sleeping, though, even if you weren’t always chased from sleep with nightmares. Sometimes you still found you weren’t sure how to turn your mind off.
The nightly meetings with Eris helped greatly and you’d become grateful for the steady presence of him, the reassurance of his company. Something told you that even if you could sleep, you’d have still somehow found yourself traversing up the steps to the roof nightly, just to see him.
More changes came alongside the group moving onto swords. Along with it came a brand new instructor, though you should’ve seen it coming.
Eris was now teaching some short lessons.
Cassian and Azriel were starting small in an attempt to incorporate some techniques from the Autumn Court along with the Illyrian and Valkyrie mix you all were already learning and memorizing. That alone came with some conflicting things.
For one, Gwyn had introduced a test for everyone—one that she, Nesta and Emerie had already mastered, not to your surprise with that group of females’ determination. It was what crowned the three Valkyries—the first in over five centuries.
It had been quite some time ago, but you remembered that pride in your friend when you’d learned Gwyn had been the very first to cut the ribbon. You’d recalled how she’d told you of her accomplishment. Gwyn had been the first of her friends to be declared an official Valkyrie, too.
To slice the ribbon in half meant becoming a Valkyrie—but it was also a test of patience, hard work and determination of one’s self.
At every practice, before and after, you and the others attempted to slice the floating piece of ribbon in half—a task that looked much easier than it really was. Every time you faced it, it was like it taunted you as it blew lazily where it hung from the wooden post that had been hammered into the ground.
No one else had yet to slice it, but you had an inkling it wouldn’t be long before some of your sisters would be able to. You wanted to achieve that for yourself, too, so badly.
But that hadn’t been all of the changes.
The others that came were most definitely a surprise.
For one, you were not prepared for the sight of a shirtless Eris leading the start of lessons one warm summer morning.
You’d known and expected the sun to be warm—even this early in the morning—and had been plenty used to the occasions when Azriel and Cassian had needed to peel off their shirts to keep from overheating. At this point, you were very much used to the impressively sculpted bodies and didn’t even bat an eye at the sight anymore. But neither of them had caused you to nearly stumble over your feet at first glimpse.
He wasn’t nearly as muscular as Cassian or even Azriel. He was leaner, but not without being sculpted as well. Strong shoulders, defined pecs and very noticeable biceps greeted you—the same biceps you’d been able to notice even through his jacket sleeves back in the library so long ago.
What was even worse was the defined expanse of his stomach, ridges and dips indicating he’d worked hard to hone such a powerful body over the centuries. His hair gleamed under the bright sunlight, turning it fiery, as it draped loose over his bare chest.
As if all that wasn’t enough, then there was the freckles. He was speckled with them, over his chest, dispersing and becoming more sparse over his arms and stomach, small clusters breaking up into lone freckles the closer it got to the chiseled vee of his pelvis. The same one that dipped below the waistband of the pants that’d matched the jacket he’d shed before anyone had arrived.
You instantly jerked your eyes away, gluing them to the ground. You were not about to let your mind wander to such thoughts.
You also hadn’t expected the spike of irritation as you heard some dreamy sighs next to you. You were positive Roslin, Lorelei and Ananke sighed every time Eris walked past. You were also positive your hands gripped the hilt of your sword tighter each and every time you heard it.
You couldn’t explain why something dark and ugly twisted in you, hearing their—very valid—reactions to him. He was a stunningly gorgeous male. They had eyes. After all, he didn’t belong to you. He was your…friend.
Eris was your friend.
That had been an additional surprise—the realization of something so obvious that you hadn’t even noticed when it had truly happened. At some point over the months of late night conversations, you’d become friends with the Autumn male.
Even with that, the irritation lingered, you being unable to shake the feeling even after training was over.
Your mood had only further soured when you’d tried your hand again with cutting the ribbon. Again with no luck. Azriel had only encouraged you quietly, kindly reminding you not to give up. It was still early in your journey with using a sword, it wasn’t unusual to not be able to conquer the ribbon yet.
Which was why the final thing that day came as the biggest surprise.
It was after practice when you’d found yourself back in the library, standing in front of Clotho’s desk, blinking, confused, an odd sense of déjà vu filling you.
Eris had once asked what your favorite flower was and you’d told him the truth—that you’d never had one until you’d come to the library. It was something you’d only discovered in the last handful of years.
Elain Archeron always had arrangements made—picked right from her gardens—and then proceeded to send bouquets to the library for Clotho to display on her desk. Not only did they liven up the place, they were beautiful and always made the library smell so lovely.
Chrysanthemums, you’d told him.
Elain had once sent a bouquet of nothing but the colorful blooms, each flower separated with tiny leaflets for you to see each and every petal. It had taken your breath away as it had quite literally been a rainbow of hues—ranging from burgundy, red and pink to orange and yellow, all the way to purple and white. There had even been some that were a mix of more than one color.
Clotho had seen how much you loved the beautiful flowers and had given you permission to keep one. You’d chosen one that was a perfect blend of red petals closest to the stem, fading into an orange towards the middle with a center of complete yellow.
It had looked like a flame in flower form.
You’d kept it in your room until it died, then you’d carefully pressed it between the pages of one of your favorite novels, so you could keep it forever.
Now, you stood, blinking at the vase on Clotho’s desk that held another bouquet of your favorite flowers, making you feel like you’d traveled back in time to that one instance long ago.
Elain may have been a seer, but you had no idea she read minds too. Undoubtedly, they were beautiful, but it had come as a surprise. It wasn’t as often these days the female sent flowers since according to the rumor mill she was kept busy with her work outside of the Night Court.
“I didn’t realize Elain would be sending a bouquet,” you mentioned to Clotho, still slightly dumbfounded as you stared at the pretty bouquet.
The pen scratched against paper as Clotho wrote her response to you. Your eyes dipped to the paper when she was finished.
These are not from Lady Elain.
Your brows furrowed.
“Then where did they come from?”
You waited as she answered.
I believe the card will answer that question.
“What card?”
Clotho gestured with a nod toward the flowers and your attention returned to them. You saw a small square of paper tucked behind one of the flowers. You gently pulled it free so you could read it better.
How interesting that your favorite flower blooms in autumn. Luckily, the Autumn Court is rife with these. Maybe someday you can see them for yourself. Until then.
-Eris
Your eyes flicked back up to the head priestess.
“Did you peek at the card?”
How else would I have learned who they were for?
“I never knew you to be a busybody, Clotho.”
Her shoulders shook slightly in amused laughter as you huffed, gathering the vase to take back to your room. But on your journey there, something like warmth unfurled deep in your chest.
Eris had remembered your off handed comment about your favorite flower. He’d also unwittingly made your day so much brighter with one small gesture.
Something told you he remembered far more than he ever let on.
Something also whispered there was a reason for that too.
•••
ERIS
Eris had been antsy all afternoon through meetings and typical courtly duties back in Autumn, practically counting down the hours before he could winnow straight here and be able to see her again.
It had turned into a little game between them, actually, seeing who could beat the other to the roof. So far, he was winning—her only beating him a few times when he was delayed in slipping away.
She’d argued that he had the benefit of winnowing on his side. He’d argued that she actually lived on site, so she already had an unfair advantage.
Tonight was no different as he winnowed in, appearing in the training ring. It really had become more convenient to do so than bothering one of the Illyrians for a flight up. Eris often wondered if Rhysand knew just how much he was up here, solely for her. He suspected he might, but if he’d had any issue with it, he’d yet to bring it up.
This morning had left him off balance though.
Somehow, he’d been roped into participating—into teaching. The females, so far, had learned a combination of Valkyrie and Illyrian techniques—as had he over these months—but now he was teaching some maneuvers he used for his own soldiers in the Autumn Court.
If anything, the group of females would be well rounded in fighting skills, that was for sure.
It had been unusually warm, summer starting to approach, the end of spring soon coming to a close, thus resulting in a far warmer morning. Before any of the priestesses had shown up, he’d pulled off his jacket, thinking nothing of it. It wasn’t unusual for Cassian or Azriel to do so—the priestesses not even batting an eye.
She had been a different story though.
He’d felt her eyes on him the entire morning. Despite him having been shirtless many times when he’d exercised—or being in such a state while he led his own soldiers in training—he found himself resisting the urge to fidget, a tad self conscious.
He hadn’t been able to believe how nervous she made him. Not in a bad way, but knowing he’d kept capturing her attention not only flattered him, but had also made him sort of uneasy—had made him feel rather exposed.
He’d also failed to resist the urge to flex once or twice—or a few times.
Gods, he had been no better than a lovesick youth.
His eyes had met hers once, catching her in her admiration of his bare skin and the body that he’d worked hard for. He’d lifted a teasing brow and he watched as color rapidly spread across her cheeks, a small smile on her lips as she dipped her head, knowing she’d been caught.
His composure had slipped for barely a heartbeat, stomach tightening with some sort of ridiculous, fluttering feeling. A sort of nervous energy followed, the flare of that tether attached to his ribs answering in response to the female.
His chest had felt lightweight the entire rest of the morning.
He had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed, when he’d heard the shuffle of footsteps approaching and instantly straightened, back stiffening as he felt that undeniable pull deep inside him. It was as if the half acknowledged bond sang the closer to her he got.
When she’d cleared the archway, still quite a distance from him, she spoke.
“You are a sly bastard,” she quipped, pointing an accusatory finger at him as she approached.
He laughed lowly. He never failed to be surprised at the things that came out of her mouth.
“If this is about beating you here again, I have mentioned that you do have the home advantage,” he pointed out with a lazy smirk.
“Don’t try to be cute.”
“I’m always cute,” he purred, sitting down now that she’d arrived, “Now care to explain your dramatic entrance?”
“You sneaking flowers to me—my favorite flowers by the way.”
She settled right next to him, without even blinking, lowering herself to the ground so close he could feel the warmth of her. She continued talking as if nothing was amiss.
As if his pulse didn’t start going crazy the closer she got to him—as if the mere proximity of the two of them didn’t even faze her as she continued talking.
“I thought Elain had sent some more flowers,” she huffed, “But nope, just you.”
He snorted at her dramatics, actually endeared by it. He saw the way the edges of her lips twitched though, her eyes soft even through her performative teasing.
“That was really thoughtful of you, though, thank you. I didn’t realize you’d remember what my favorite flower even is.”
His eyes fixed on her, serious and unwavering.
“I tend to pay attention when important matters are involved,” he responded, voice softer than he’d initially intended, though no less heartfelt.
He’d come to realize that while at first he’d had no idea how to be who she needed, didn’t think he knew how to be gentle, somehow she had brought it out of him. She managed to do it so easily and effortlessly—all while having no idea who she was to him.
Though sometimes conversation had dipped into serious topics, he’d never once broached the subject of her past. Even if every part of him ached to know. Not because he was nosy, but it was the question that constantly haunted him. What had happened to dim this beautiful female? Who had broken the female so thoroughly that she was just now finding herself again?
But it wasn’t any of his business—mate or not—and she would only share if she chose to. He’d never pressure her to.
She looked thoughtful as she gazed back at him. Eris’s brows narrowed, confusion settling over his expression as he tried to puzzle out her sudden contemplation.
“What?” he asked.
“You know, you’re not as awful as everyone thinks,” she whispered.
That comment alone caused his breath to catch—not only in her sincerity, but the fact such kind words were coming from her. He gave her a half smile in return, though.
“You’re far more delightful than I imagined, too.”
The shy smile that graced her face triggered a smile on his, a soft laugh escaping him.
“It shouldn’t surprise me that you wield flattery like a weapon, Eris.”
He’d heard his name on her lips occasionally over the months, but it never failed to send a chill shooting down his spine. He could spend a concerning amount of time dissecting the way each syllable rolled off her tongue.
Trying to clear his fogged and distracted mind he picked a much safer subject.
“What do you think of the book I brought you?”
A few days ago, he’d brought a book for her—one he’d thought she’d like, though it was a different genre than she’d mentioned reading. But it was one of his own—one that he’d seen on the shelf of his room back in Autumn. It was one that the moment he saw it had made him instantly think of her. So he’d brought it for her to read.
She immediately brightened at his question.
“I meant to tell you I finished it this morning! I was almost late to training because I was trying to finish the last pages.”
Which he’d noticed, of course. Made even more obvious when she’d practically stumbled over her own feet at his appearance earlier that morning.
“It was awful!”
He tried to bite back his wince at being so wrong in his thinking, then covered it with a snarky comment, something he was more than used to doing—how he always hid any vulnerability.
“You wound me,” he intoned dryly.
“It was awful because it made me lose track of all time and I’ve gotten scolded twice this week by Clotho for my tardiness.”
His brows flicked up,
“So you truly enjoyed it? And by all means, don’t hesitate to spare my feelings. I can take it.”
Even if he was nervous of her critique—unusually so. He never did understand why the book had reminded him of her so much.
“I mean the only thing that annoyed me was the sidekick character. He really could’ve used less page time—he didn’t even contribute to anything! I’m telling you he appeared every fifty pages to make some profound remark and then just disappeared off the page, doing who knows what! Where was Sebastian? What was he doing? No one knows!”
She flung her hand in mid air, in exasperation, as if to prove her point. He really did try to keep a straight face, but clearly wasn’t doing a good job at it because she pointed at him.
“Don’t laugh. You have to admit, you could’ve taken him out of the story and it would’ve been the exact same.”
“I mean he did offer up enough clues to keep the story going,” he commented, lips still quirking in amusement.
“Point taken,” she conceded before continuing, "Thank you for bringing it to me. It brought me a lot of joy. Sort of like you have.”
Eris blinked, momentarily stunned. He’d never heard such words from someone and especially not about him.
“You’re welcome,” he barely whispered.
She didn’t seem to pick up how much her words had affected him as she continued on.
“I’ll have to remember to bring it next time as to return it to you.”
“Keep it as long as you wish,” Eris said, genuinely.
She looked ready to say something but instead of words coming out, a yawn replaced it.
“You’re tired,” he observed.
Part of him, selfishly, twisted in disappointment. They hadn’t been out here long—perhaps less than half an hour at this point—and as much as he knew she needed her rest, he hated to see her leave so soon.
“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she murmured.
He’d realized that to some degree—if she hadn’t she wouldn’t have been out here in the middle of the night, first to train then just to meet him. But still, the revelation bothered him. It triggered the desire to want to help her, even if he had no knowledge of just how to do that.
“How come?” he asked, voice as low as hers had been.
Dangerous—such dangerous territory that he’d have to carefully tread.
“Sometimes my mind is too loud,” was all she said.
He understood that well enough.
“You should get some sleep,” he suggested.
“I want to stay up to see the sunrise,” she answered, “I’ve always heard it’s beautiful, but I’ve never had the opportunity to see it from up here.”
“You’re not gonna see anything from here with these high walls,” he scoffed, peering around, before noticing the perfect spot.
He’d often seen Rhysand drop in sometimes and observe from the same exact location. If he could just winnow…
He turned back to her where she’d rested her head against the wall, resting her eyes for a moment.
“Are you that committed to seeing the sunrise?” he inquired.
“Yes,” she said stubbornly, even though her eyes didn’t open.
“Do you trust me?”
It was a crazy idea, he knew it was. But if it was something she desired…
“Yes,” came her immediate answer as she opened her eyes to again peer at him.
Her answer was so immediate, it left him astonished for a moment.
“Then take my hand and hold on. Okay?”
She looked baffled, but slid her hand into his, following his instructions as her other hand curled around his forearm.
In one quick flash Eris had winnowed them from where they’d been seated in the pit to the lip of it, settled safely on the flat mountain top that looked over the open air training pit—and the glittering city of Velaris. The perfect seat for a fully glorious view of the horizon.
Eris had to admit, it was quite the breathtaking view. Present company excluded.
She jolted with a gasp, clinging tighter to him for a quick heartbeat before relaxing slightly after realizing where he’d taken them. She gasped at the sight as she took it in, touch falling from him—much to his disappointment.
“You alright?” he asked.
He studied her profile, making sure she was indeed okay—hoping it hadn’t been a foolish mistake doing this. But the wonder on her face made up for any hesitancy he briefly had as she turned to him.
“It’s like I can see the world,” she breathed.
His mouth curved upwards.
“Yes,” he agreed.
Even though it was still the middle of the night—hours away from sunrise—she turned back to the view, taking it all in like it was the best thing she’d ever seen. Perhaps it was the best thing she’d ever seen—as of lately, that was.
They fell into a comfortable silence after that. Then, it happened without him even realizing it was coming.
He felt a soft weight at his shoulder, her head having naturally fallen against it. He tensed for half a second before relaxing, letting the warmth of her body meet his. He felt a small, involuntary shiver come from her, the nighttime air still a touch cool even with summer rapidly approaching.
Moments later, the bubble of air surrounding them warmed just slightly—enough to chase away any chill. A tiny bit of his fire magic to keep her from being too cold. She didn’t say anything, but he swore she leaned just a bit closer into him.
“Tell me something about yourself,” she mumbled, “Something I don’t know.”
She sounded drowsy, voice softer and heavy with exhaustion. Eris thought for a moment, head moving carefully to peer down at her. She was still staring out at the view through bleary eyes.
“Well, I possess fire magic,” he said quietly, though he felt like that was rather obvious right now.
“Does that ever intimidate you? Scare you?”
Eris paused at her question.
“Scare me?”
“Yeah. To know you hold such power to hurt or destroy someone—or something—with such powers. With the power of fire.”
He’d never thought of it like that. Her voice was inquisitory, but he thought he felt her body tense at his side. He wondered if it had to do with her past, this line of questioning.
“I would never harm someone for enjoyment,” he said, voice deadly serious.
“But you’ve had to before?”
“I have, yes. But only as a last resort. To protect myself or those I care about,” he responded, hesitating a beat, the vulnerability slipping through every word, “It is never something I’ve particularly enjoyed.”
He wasn’t sure what she thought of his answer, but she seemed to accept it.
“Tell me more.”
He chuckled, enjoying the way she seemed to melt into him the sleepier she sounded.
“Well, I have smokehounds—twelve of them. They’re born with magic of their own. Gray, sleek like smoke. They can race as fast as the wind and sniff out any prey.”
“Twelve? Sounds chaotic,” she yawned again.
The grin from earlier stayed on his face.
“A little. They like naps and having their fur stroked when they’re not busy working.”
“Similar to their master, right?” she mumbled, though he could hear the obvious playfulness in her teasing tone.
He actually laughed outloud, his chest rumbling with the sudden outburst. Peeking down again at her, he saw a smile curving her lips, even though her eyes had slipped closed again.
“I think they’d like you.”
The comment slipped out before he’d had a chance to vet it, but he’d realized it was true. He wholeheartedly believed his beloved hounds would take well to her. She hummed, sounding halfway asleep already. Glancing down, he saw her lashes fanned across the tops of her cheeks, looking the most at peace he’d ever seen her.
Her breathing became more deep, steady, evening out as she slipped under the tantalizing pull of sleep. Eris had an inkling she wouldn’t make it to sunrise, though it didn’t concern him in the slightest.
Nesta has sacrificed absolutely everything for Cassian. She changed her anatomy for Cassian. And he can't even support her, defend her, or protect her.
Nessian's so one-sided with only Nesta putting in any work. Cassian's only contribution to their marriage is his cock.
“As an eldest sister, I would never excuse Nesta.”
As an eldest sister and a parent, I would never expect a child to replace the responsibilities of a parent and blame them when they fail to step up to the impossible task.
Do you think sjm ever regrets how badly she fumbled Nessian or do you think she pats herself on the back with a smarmy look and thinks she wrote a great love story?
i will never advocate for cassian and nesta. just seeing them together makes me ill. the audacity of rhysand to assume azriel wants elain because of “ three sisters for three sisters “ but cassian is just as bad 🥲🫣 sorry not sorry
Just read somewhere that the thirteen sacrificed themselves for Manon but Aelin’s entire court was willing to sacrifice her and I’m repeating this again- WITHOUT LETTING HER SEE HER HOME- (of course our Rowan and Fenrys are exception to it all!)
Another moment that makes me wonder what would’ve been Sam’s reaction to it all- 😭
Just read somewhere that the thirteen sacrificed themselves for Manon but Aelin’s entire court was willing to sacrifice her and I’m repeating this again- WITHOUT LETTING HER SEE HER HOME- (of course our Rowan and Fenrys are exception to it all!)
Another moment that makes me wonder what would’ve been Sam’s reaction to it all- 😭
I don't think we give ToG enough credit for showing us that deep connections don't have to be romantic
Yes, the series technically classifies as romantasy, and yes, there is a lot of romance in there, but not only.
There is Manon and the Thirteen, who teach us that the family we build for ourselves is so much more important than the one we're born into.
Aelin, Dorian, and Chaol, who show us that sometimes you just need a hand to pull you out of the dark hell you wound up in.
Aelin and Ansel who teach us that sometimes we make mistakes, and those mistakes hurt the people around us, but that doesn't make them unforgivable.
My personal favorite, Fenrys and Aelin, who had a bond so deep they were the only things that kept each other sane through months of torture, so deep Fenrys broke the unbreakable blood oath and SURVIVED for Aelin's sake.
There is so much love in ToG. Platonic, romantic, between all genders.
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