#acomaa

[writevswrong]

Quick sketch of Nesta from an upcoming scene of my fanfic. One of these days I will finish a full digital piece and upload it for y’all. 😂

[writevswrong]

Eris Fanfic * When The Last Ember Falls * Chapter Seventeen

When The Last Ember Falls by L.J. LaFleur

Nesta:

I wandered into the bathing room, everything from the tall ceilings to the copper bathtub mirrored the one in Eris’ chambers. I was thankful it was the same. Despite the incident with Ronan, I still felt safe knowing it was a replica.

Cindra waited outside the bathroom, informing me that she was going to pick out my gown since that’s what a guardian should do. I think she just really wanted to rummage through the wardrobe. Can’t say I blame her. It was packed with everything your heart could ever desire.

I stepped into the dark water, not realizing I was holding my breath. Willing the carnelian light to the surface of my skin, I formed similar patterns that Eris had once shown me. Breathing normally again, I sat down, the corner of my mouth curving upwards. I was still too scared to fully submerge, but this felt nice—really, really nice.

As I dried off, I thought of him. Of our time together since my arrival.  

Then of Cassian and the guilt that was not there.

The guilt that should be there. He was right, I lost him on the battlefield. The one right outside these castle walls. Yet I wasn’t haunted, broken. Why did I not feel broken because of this?

Was it anger that pushed the guilt away? Was it happiness? Either way, I did not want to think of Cassian again. The bastard commander chose his fate, I should be able to choose mine.

I approached the magnolia bedframe where Cindra had laid out two choices. “Thank you for your kindness, Cindra,” I meant every word. She didn’t run from me when I turned into a Gryphon and nearly killed her. She didn’t judge me when I showed up naked and crying for Eris. She didn’t laugh, when I thought her and Eris were…gods, what foolish thoughts plague me.

“Pleasure is all mine,” she flashed a mischievous smile, “it finally gives me a chance to be a woman again.”

“I guess wearing armor all the time would do that,” I acknowledged, attempting to stifle my laughter. I liked her. She was fierce and unapologetic, a fighter.

Cindra bowed her head, guiding me to my options. “I think the metallic one is best but just incase you don’t want to feel too glitzy, here’s another in emerald. You looked gorgeous in the linen option when you first arrived.”

“The one I ripped?”

“Yes. But you still looked good. You have a body, flaunt it Gryphon.”

With a raised brow, I chuckled, “so, it was you, who picked the low-cut dress out?”

“It wasn’t me,” she contested as her eyes bulging, “it was given to me by the Lady of Autumn.”

I reached for the metallic gown, her first choice. Still not believing Eris’ mother picked out such a revealing dress. Why on Prythian would she?  

Cindra had to help me into the copper and gold ensemble. It was form fitting, very, very form fitting. I examined the swooping neckline that connected to the dangling straps off my shoulders. From the beaded bands, a cascade of golden Ombre material fell to the floor. Slits in the fabric revealed my sparkling sleeves. 

She laced up the center of the shimmering bodice with velvet ribbons, making sure my breasts were pushed up more than they have ever been. I blushed at the provocative neckline, by the gods…if I moved wrong I might just fall out.

“If you move wrong, you will fall out,” Cindra warned, finishing with an elegant bow just beneath my cleavage. Her eyes dancing from the sight of me, “just you wait until you see this!” she squealed, dragging me to the mirror. She had me close my eyes while she adjusted the cathedral length train; smoothing out the ripples of fabric. Cindra whispered, “okay, open them.”  

I obliged, not able to recognize myself. Not in a bad way at all but that I looked new—whole. I felt like a star that had fallen from the sky. A walking sun in the land of darkness. Black and blue attire did not do me justice, I decided.

The long sleeves hugged my skin, cut into perfect diamonds that attached to two golden rings on my middle fingers. I looked closer, noticing the rings were engraved in a language I did not know. Bands of perfection.

Pearls and garnets were sewn onto the straps and the train…well, the train had much more material than I originally thought. There was even a bit of swooping fabric that connected the straps. The only open section of the train or cape—whatever it is—revealed my nearly bare back.  

A thin, see-through material covered majority of my spine and ribcage. Looking from my shoulder and down, I self-consciously studied the scar I had received from Tamlin. You couldn’t notice such a hideous flaw in a gown like this.  

Cindra motioned for me to sit at the sunstone vanity. “Do you prefer the golden ribbon with pearls or the copper ribbon with garnets?” She held both of the options up, her brows snapping together as she tried to decide what would look best.

“Pearls, they’re my favorite,” I uneasily shifted in my seat. I wasn’t used to this type of luxury without a price. I wasn’t used to being dolled up by someone else or even attending a ball, not since my time with Ronan. But it was different then, a fight for survival.

My palms grew sweaty as I thought of the amount of people who would be in attendance tonight. How many of them saw me bare before? On the day Beron forced me to have a walk of shame through the throne room.  

She dropped the burnt orange ribbon on the table, “duly noted.” Cindra released my hair from it’s prison of a bun. The cascading waves of gold and brown were amplified by the dress. “So…” she began, weaving the ribbon through my long locks, “he’s quite the High Lord, huh?”

I turned into a column, stiff and heartless, “is this your version of small talk?”

“I was never very good with easy subjects,” Cindra scrunched up her nose, cackling at my resistance.

I swallowed hard, feeling the overwhelming sense of sisterly conversation that I’ve never experienced. “You want to know why I’m here, don’t you?” I questioned, knowing the answer before she could speak.

She shook her head, her mouth twisting, “that’s not—no, no.” Cindra stopped braiding my hair, “yes?”

I pursed my lips to the side, feeling the truth unravel before I could stop it, “I had run away from my family. That’s when he found me, Eris and his brothers.” I dragged my fingers against the countless options of earrings she set in front of me. “I ended up here, afraid and broken.” I chose the dangling pearls that would accent the others on my gown and in my hair. “He saved me. Then he saved me again and again without ever asking for anything in return.”

“Were you here during the war?” Cindra finished my hairstyle with two small braids to keep the ribbon in place. She tucked the velvet strings, displaying my pointed ears.

I saw my reflection, the fae side of me that I couldn’t hide. As a habit, I almost redid my hairstyle, afraid of the past haunting me if I did not cover my ears.

Cindra slapped my wrist before I could do any damage. She attached the dangling pearl earring, careful not to poke my neck.

I knew she was patiently standing by for my answer. Maybe that’s what the Autumn Court is known for? Patience. Or maybe Cindra and Eris knew I would speak if given time.

“Everything,” I replied quietly, feeling the anxiety wash over me. I took a deep breath, noticing that Cindra had stopped, she was waiting for me to either fall apart or keep going. I didn’t want to hide anymore, whether that was from bodies of water or my ears. “He saved my life and Cassian’s,” I finally finished, exhaling the past that threatened to ruin my future.

Cindra added the other earring then went to the wardrobe for some shoes. She hollered over her armored shoulder, “where is this Cassian?” She fetched the low heels, noticing a hair that was out of place from across the room.

I peeked up beneath my long lashes, her fingers working effortlessly as she waited for my reply. “I don’t know,” I responded, knowing that was the truth. I didn’t have a clue of his whereabouts. I hadn’t thought about it much.  

She released her hands from my hair to apply a rosy balm to my lips. Her eyes glimmered with hope and anticipation, “I guess this is perfect timing then.”

“Timing?”

“Well, I do not see Cassian here or your family from the Night Court. I only see you and him. It seems like fate, that’s all.”

I didn’t know what to say, a mixture of feelings clawing to get out.

“I’ve only just become his guardian and I can already see the effect you have on him. I just hope that as he nurses your broken heart back to good health, that you will not break his in the process.” She kneeled before me, slipping on the pair of silky heels.

My jaw tightened as Cindra’s words sliced into my core. I raised to my feet, quickly retying the deep-v bodice. Desperately needing to breathe before I exploded, I needed this off—I needed out.

She was right, he was mending my heart but what about his? Was I hurting him by being here? Was I taking advantage of him and his kindness? Or was this different?

Was there something else?

Cindra stopped my trembling hands with hers. She had to redo the bodice, this time giving me a little breathing room. “For what it’s worth,” Cindra mumbled while stepping away.

I stared up at the guardian, searching for a sign of hope. My flames quickly curled around my fingertips before sinking back into my flesh. Please say something…anything…

“You will break his heart either way in this dress.”

[writevswrong]

Eris Fanfic * When The Last Ember Falls * Chapter Fourteen

When The Last Ember Falls by L.J. LaFleur

Nesta:

I waited until he fell asleep, until his breaths were even before I rested my head beside his. My back was aching, just beneath my jagged scars. I knew I wouldn’t hear the end of it if I had asked him.

I could use a woman in my bed, what a scoundrel.

Lying beside him softened the pain in my ribs. I couldn’t explain it, how his presence soothed the heartache. Maybe because he was my best friend; an easiness to our relationship I had never encountered before? These perpetual thoughts didn’t matter, only that he’s alive and well. Happy.  

My eyelids grew heavier and heavier until I could no longer watch over Eris. I needed to rest so I could function tomorrow. Who knows what dawn will bring us. 

A gust of wind made my teeth chatter, the bumps on my skin rising. I scooted closer, resting my head against his warm shoulder. “Goodnight, Eris,” I mumbled just before falling into a world that balanced between dreams and nightmares.

I stood on the shore, the same one I’ve dreamed of since waking up from the autumn war. The place where salty waves and thick grains of sand meet the endless rows of aspen and red maple trees.

Inhaling the salty, crisp air, I felt myself surrender. “I love it here,” I admitted, catching his fiery hair out of the corner of my eye.

Eris stepped forward to be beside me. Concentrating on the crashing waves, he asked, “is this the view from my window?”

“Yes,” I replied, the curve of my lips enlarging. I wouldn’t be able to explain it; why seeing an infinite amount of blue mended my broken heartstrings. It just did. 

He stole a peek at me, “it’s breathtaking,” he agreed.

I turned away, drifting along the shoreline. The hem of my dress soaking into the frigid waters. I willed the fire from within to coil around my toes, just as he had taught me in the copper tub.

“I can tell you have something to say.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, I bent down to pick up a defective obsidian shell. “I hate that you read me so well,” I remarked, gently brushing my fingers against the ribbed edges.

Eris caught sight of another black shell, one in perfect condition. “I thought women loved a man who picked up on little details,” he implored, handing me the sea gem.  

I analyzed the two shells, both so beautiful—whole and broken. Commenting on the rarity of finding two onyx shells, I finally answered him, “I cannot speak for all women, we’re complicated creatures.” I admired our findings one last time before releasing them back to the ocean.

“As long as you admit it...” he joked, rubbing his untamed beard as he waited for me to slap him.

“Miscreant.”

“Siren.”

We stopped only once so he could roll up his pant legs. He raised his hand, inviting me to step further into the sea. I reached for him, letting him guide me to where the water came up to his shins. Releasing his hand, I lifted my dress up. In hopes that I would avoid further restrictions since I was much smaller than him.

His legs wrapped with fire, extending all the way up to his thighs. As did mine. “So, fireheart, tell me your tale of woes,” Eris commanded, a signature smirk in place.

His term of endearment made my knees weaken. This was merely a dream and he was only a figment of my imagination. So, what did I have to lose? “Only if you hold your judgement till the very end,” I requested, turning to face my friend.

Eris nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. He raised to his full height to let me know that he was ready. He was taller than I remembered, broader in the shoulders as well.  

I recited my story, even the moments I was sure he already knew of. Every fear, every event of shame and all the broken pieces of my history. I let him see me. The decent and the ugly.

Starting with my father, his failures that had damaged me so deeply that I intern failed my sisters. That Feyre, the youngest, turned into our provider as I let us rot in hopes father would do something—anything.

I smiled as I spoke of Elain’s gardening skills and Feyre’s paintings. Both so talented and all I had were my books. I told him I saw the world in the novels I read but I wanted more. I wanted to experience life outside of our human village—maybe travel to the different continents one day.

These precious pieces of someone else’s adventures that I clung to, in hopes that I too would write about mine, had been my light at the end of the path.

That was until she killed the wolf. The day everything changed.

I could no longer read due to the trauma—to my shame—that haunted me. I didn’t know that she couldn’t read. I didn’t know that she suffered in silence as I berated her out of guilt. I did not deserve happiness after all I had done to my sisters, that much I knew.

It felt easy speaking to Eris, maybe that was why I unloaded all the weight of regret, my “tale of woes” onto him. The only sign of emotion, a flicker if you will, was when I told him of what Tamlin did in the woods. When I moved the material of my dress so he could see the tips of the jagged lines; I saw his amber eyes ablaze.  

When I was about to ask him what was wrong, he beckoned for me to continue.

I obliged, thinking nothing more of his reaction.

From explaining my experience in the cauldron as Ronan’s queen of death to what it felt like to emerge from hell. Why tubs and cauldrons scared me to my wits end. So much so that I had to bathe with buckets out of fear of seeing Ronan, afraid the whispers would drag me back to him.

I recounted our time in the copper tub, the one in his room. The day Eris forced me to step into it, to face my fear since I most likely smelled of piss and rot. It was when he taught me how to light up in the darkness, to catch fire, that I finally felt whole. Safe.

I backed up, forgetting an important piece of my past, the part that led me to him. Of what happened in Velaris. How I nearly killed everyone and not just once.

When he found me in the woods, I had lost my way in body and soul. I didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin but he taught me how to control my magic—he gave me a second chance at life. I would have died in that forest if he hadn’t found me. Not from the trolling predators of the night but by myself. The string of sanity that was splitting, that’s what would have done me in.    

Clearing my throat, I reached farther. I plucked out every bit of me for him to see.

As a human I felt things deeply, locking the emotions away without difficulty. But now, every feeling had amplified. I cried a lot, that was the worst part of it. That sometimes I couldn’t stop; how I begged the universe to make it stop.

I clenched my fist, digging my sharp nails into my palm. “When you stopped me,” I faltered, unable to meet his eyes. “When you split my being. My, my power—whatever it is,” I crooked my jaw to the side, this was harder than I thought. This wasn’t real and I could barely get the words out.

His mouth twisted into a grimace as he focused on the sea foam, “if it meant your survival, that you would live another day…” those burning, amber irises flashed to me.

“Eris…”

“Don’t. You do not need to apologize to me, Nesta.” His voice heavy, thickening with emotion, “I would rather lose you to him than to death. At least I would get to see you again. I would see your smile and hear your voice. You would get to live happily ever after, as they say. That is enough for me.”

I couldn’t tell him what happened between Cassian and me. How we fought like wild animals every day or that we broke up in an alley only hours before I arrived here. I couldn’t bring myself to say it.  

There was a lull in conversation as we both regained our steel composure. I didn’t realize we had walked all the way to the border between autumn and spring. Seeing the transition, the blending of the two courts looked unbelievable.

My mouth had opened, my compliments unable to reach my lips. Cream roses and maple trees intertwined effortlessly. A buzz of magic filled the air, the temperature rising. A beautiful sight, but my eyes always went back to the yellow, red and orange trees of this court. I focused on the pop of gold that sprouted between the dense tree line.

Red didn’t scare me—scar me—like it had before. I couldn’t understand it. How my fear of dark water and crimson didn’t cripple me anymore. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t still affected to a certain degree but I could do it; I survived. I guess I have him to thank.  

Eris’ voice floated to me, enraptured me, “I would never judge you, whether for your past, present or future.”

My brows knitted together, holding my breath, “how could you not?”

“How could I judge you when I’ve killed my own brothers?” he scoffed, running his fingers through his windswept hair as he scrutinized the oncoming set of waves.

I closed my eyes, knowing he felt the same pain as me. “It’s not the same,” I replied with a burdensome heart, clutching the linen fabric of my gown.

“No, it’s worse,” he corrected me. “I’ve done some very cruel, awful things.” Eris didn’t continue, instead he sucked in his bottom lip and bit down as he debated what to say next.

A larger wave knocked into us, his body blocking me from a direct hit. “You will tell me in time. When you realize that I too, will not judge you.” I shook my head at the fire wielding High Lord, “you saved me, you fool.”

“It was merely a wave,” he sassed, “I think you would have been able to handle it, Gryphon.”

“You know I’m not speaking of the crashing waves.”

“I could not save Lys, barely saved Mor and Lucien. I am not worthy of being called a savior, Nesta.” He scratched his bearded cheek, opening his mouth to confess, “monster’s do not save people, they damn them.”

“Then why did you, the so-called monster, save me?”

He didn’t speak while his eyes searched mine. Pupils flaring as he shifted forward. I could feel the water luring back towards the open sea. The flames around our feet connecting with one another.

“If you are a monster,” I felt myself edge closer, my heart beating erratically, “then I am as well, Eris Van—”

The smallest noise distracted me. I turned my head away, scanning the edge of the Autumn woods. It was not a noise of the sea or the rustling of leaves.

 Flames enraged, my eyes glowed white as the door creaked open. I slid off the bed, rushing towards the intruder.

“It’s me, it’s me!” the guardian shouted, her hands above her head in surrender. “Cauldron be damned, y, y, you are horrifying,” she sputtered, her face fresh with a sheen of sweat as she took in my mid-transformation stage.

The sun had barely made its way to the horizon, the sky still dark with fading suns. “What are you doing here this early?” I demanded, forcing the fire and onyx talons back into my skin and bones.

Cindra’s eyes caught on the busted seams of my bodice, “I’m sorry for the intrusion but I needed to speak with you before my lord was up.” She pointed to her breasts, then to me as she surveyed the ceiling.

Flustered, I held my ripped gown up. If anyone did ever create magical clothing so I could transform back and forth without being naked, that would be wonderful. “About?” I yawned helplessly, turning my head into my bare shoulder to not be rude.

“Your chambers are ready.”

“What?”  

“The High Lord,” was all she said, venturing into the dimly lit hallway.

I glanced to Eris, he was still in a deep slumber. It wouldn’t hurt to look, I told myself. I followed the guardian out of the room, down the hall and to the last door on the right. “He has me on the same floor as him?” I observed with a hushed tone.

Cindra’s eyes widened with worry, her hand tightened around the copper doorknob, “unless you don’t want to be. I can see what other rooms are available, if you’d like.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I just…” I stopped speaking, my head and tongue not able to connect as she pushed the door open. My heart unable to comprehend the beauty within the massive stone walls.

The room had a similar layout to Eris’ except there was a large balcony, facing the rising sun. A jeweled leaf ceiling made of sunstones, carnelian and citrine, intricately fell into a chandelier made of faelights. The warm, shimmering lights grew brighter as I walked through the doorway.

My jaw slacked as I looked to the bed. The posts were made out of magnolia trees, all connecting together to form a frame for the mattress. The branches held hundreds of blooms, ranging from white to pink and purple. I could barely breathe as I stepped further into the room—my room.

Throat throbbing, tears threatening to form.

To the left was a cabinet, blue like the bird eggs from the human realm. The stained glass was formed into the Autumn Court’s signature red maple leaf, one on each panel. From there I looked to the opened doors, the view…

With watery eyes I stepped forward, seeing straight to the ocean I had been so fond of.  

“How do you like it?” Eris whispered from the doorway.

I turned wildly, feeling as if I might explode with so many different emotions, I didn’t know what to say. Cindra had left at some point, possibly retrieving him as I stood in a daze.

Eris was heavily relying on the wall to keep him upright, his complexion not as ghostly but his bandages were soaked red.  

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” I croaked. I raised my hands to my throat, horrified by the sound I had made.  

He unleashed a smile despite the pain in his voice, “I wanted to see your reaction.”

Retreating towards the blue cabinet, I sniffled, “it’s beautiful.” I opened it slowly, unsure if I could handle another surprise from him. It was filled with books. My own private library of sonnets and star-crossed lovers. Amber droplets were in full attack mode as I brushed my fingers against the novel he had once read to me.

“I’m glad you like it,” he breathed with great effort while treading closer and closer.

I shut the cabinet doors, my body aching from such a gift. A treasure I did not deserve. “You shouldn’t be walking, let alone standing,” I attempted to nag him but all I could hear were the whispers singing his name.

Eris stood beside me, a pillar of steel, as his voice strained, “I’m tired of being in bed. It makes me feel weak.”

“You are far from weak,” I scolded him, still failing at keeping my cold demeanor. It didn’t sound like a reprimand. It was more like a whimper, a pathetic little cry. My eyes bored into the floor, I counted as many cracks as I could—wishing for my emotions to flee.

He tilted my chin up with a fiery knuckle. Admiration and light increasing with the passing seconds, “then take a walk with me?”

I bit my lip till it nearly bled so I would not weep. I didn’t want to cry in front of him, I wanted to smile. He deserved that at the very least. “You present this room and then ask me to leave paradise?” I chastised him with a devious look.

Eris shrugged, the muscles in his jaw feathering, “you can always come back.”

I knew what he really meant. I was always welcome here in his court for however long I wanted. A room with a view that had brought me great joy despite the pain I once endured. An escape from the Night Court, from the monsters of my nightmares.

I moved to his side, unleashing a smile made of affectionate starlight. Tenderly wrapping my arm around his, I asked, “where to?”     

[writevswrong]

Eris Fanfic * When The Last Ember Falls * Chapter Twenty

When The Last Ember Falls by L.J. LaFleur

Eris:

I had walked Nesta to her chambers last night, not daring to go inside. She enclosed the limited distance between us. Moving in as if she were going to kiss me goodnight. Instead she painfully patted my chest, telling me to switch the bandages or she would set me on fire.

She knew I wouldn’t burn, that her words were not as powerful as she wanted them to be. Swiftly rescinding her previous threat, she went on to say that she would wrap me in faebane chains and switch the bandages herself.

Her face flourished with a dangerous blush as I told her I wouldn’t mind if she chained me up, not one bit.

“Goodnight, enchantress,” I teased, smirking at the flabbergasted King Slayer.  

Cindra waited in my chambers, her mouth still red from her late-night escapades. She helped remove my overcoat and tunic, telling me about her extravagant night with her lover, Mikayl. How he surprised her with jewelry from his homeland, a token in his culture that is as close to marriage as it gets. It was the same starburst necklace I saw him wearing earlier.

After she patched me up, she ordered the healers into my room, specifically requesting to, “fix him up just enough that he’s not bleeding out but not too much that the Gryphon leaves.”

Once the healers had gone, I told Cindra about my night with Nesta. Skipping the more intimate details, I realized I was more of a gentleman than I thought. How the Gryphon has changed me.  

Cindra replied by shrieking for a good five minutes. “Fate, my lord!” she had repeated all the way to the door, her arms up in champion fashion.

“Fate,” I muttered, lying on my back as I stared at the silver moon, not wanting this night to ever end.

 I was nervous to see Nesta this morning. What if she had left? What if she thought I came on too strong? Maybe I should…

My thoughts vanquished as I caught the quiet beauty by my window. She hadn’t changed from her bloody evening gown; golden-brown waves glistening beneath the rising sun.

“Nesta?” I surprisingly asked, quickly tying my trousers together, “I was just on my way to see you.”

She focused her impenetrable gaze on the sea. The same ocean she had studied for hours when she was held captive here. The only view that kept her from losing her sanity.

I drew closer but she wouldn’t look away. That was until I fully blocked her view. She was either forced to stare at my package or look me in the eyes. As I hoped, it was the latter.

The skin beneath her eyes were puffy from crying, her cheeks flushed. I could see the amber droplets swirling down her neck. Had she been crying all night? Was this because of me? Of what I said?

“Is everything alright?” I asked with furrowed brows. What could have happened after I left? She was protected here. Nothing could harm her.  

She held up a creased paper with a glob of silver wax. Mountains topped with three stars, the Night Court symbol stamped in the center. Her line of sight drifted as her trembling lips opened then snapped shut.  

I read the letter, the lines of desperation written by her family asking for Nesta to return to Cassian. The same bastard who was losing his mind from the war. From experiencing the dreadful darkness, the powerful river of death.

That he needed her more than ever now.

That she belonged there, with him.

Her mate.  

It took everything in me to not set the parchment on fire. I knew what it was like in the river of death. I was there, listening to Nesta scream for Cassian to wake up. I fought the raging water that pushed me towards the next life. I tore open the darkness with my claws to reach her.

My voice shook with fury and despair, balancing on the cusp of both emotions, “I see…”

Nesta’s eyes shot to mine, “what am I supposed to make of this?”

“He loves you,” I confirmed, quickly biting down on my tongue. Why must this be my fate? Why must I lose who I cherish so deeply?  

“And what of you?”

“I…” I struggled to find my words, the lump in my throat throbbed. To say what I have been desperately wanting to say for weeks—months. How could I tell her now? How could I compete with her mate? With who she is destined to be with?  

“You can’t even say it,” she faltered, her hollow voice echoed through my room. Nesta tried to look at the sea, at anywhere but me.  

I kneeled on one leg in front of her, opening my chest for the blow. “If I do, what will become of it?” I grinded my teeth, stopping the tears from falling—my broken heart from unveiling. “You will always love your mate,” I whispered.  

She didn’t answer me, not a word as she searched my watery eyes.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” I begged, caving on both knees.  

Nesta bit her lip, turning away so I would not see her fall apart any further.

I felt the seam on my chest rip open, a sharp puncture to the heart from her silence. I sniffed in my defeat, the muscles in my jaw flickered as I spoke, “you will never walk this world unloved, Nesta Archeron.”

Her cries grew louder as she pressed her quivering lips into the back of her hand. Nesta’s entire body began to shake as the sobs came flooding out. I could feel my own heart shattering just from watching her. I was told once that she felt everything. Deeply, madly. Even more so after the cauldron.

I didn’t need to imagine what this was doing to her, not when I felt the same way. “Nesta,” I reached for her but she pulled away. For the first time of her being here, she moved away from me. Taking that as my sign, I opened my idiotic mouth, “go home. Go back to your mate.”

[writevswrong]

Eris Fanfic * When The Last Ember Falls * Chapter Thirteen

When The Last Ember Falls by L.J. LaFleur

Eris:

Cindra wanted to pry further, I could tell. Instead she zipped her lips and patted that disgusting rub on my wound. I didn’t want to speak or think. I wanted to forget the bombarding memories that threatened to weaken me further.

She focused on applying the new cloth bandages, careful not to make any faces as I hissed, growled and barked at her like a beast. I gave her credit for not running away. She is stronger than I thought.  

My guardian brought out a pair of clean clothes. Several, as a matter of fact. I chose the gray tunic with darker gray trousers. When I received a disapproving look, I reached for the burnt orange pants. She nodded at my choice.

I told her to at least let me do my own dressing. When I winced in pain for the fifth time in a row she told me to stop moving and she would do it. With a frustrated sigh, I sat back down.  

Cindra shook her head, motioning me to lay all the way down. “You’re acting like seeing you naked would somehow get me hot and bothered. Have you forgotten about my sex god? His name is Mikayl, he’s a sun-fae.”

Between Cindra and Nesta’s comments, I was bound to lose my mind. “I’m trying to be respectful,” I remarked, writhing in pain from barely moving my shoulders.

“Being respectful is letting me protect you,” she argued, ripping the stained shirt off my chest. Cindra then untied the leather laces of my pants, she looked away as she pried off my trousers.  

I stared at the ceiling, feeling completely incompetent. The tension in my voice heightened as she inserted my feet into the pant legs, “you did.”

“After you were stabbed,” Cindra contended, her eyes averting once again as she slid my pants up.  

I raised my head a bit, tightening my jaw as I lifted myself. A wave of mini daggers attacked the hole by my heart. “Forgive yourself, guardian.”

“I have failed you,” she stated, loosely tying the leather cords. Cindra’s lips puckered to the side as she thought of how she could get my tunic on with little to no movement.  

The corner of my mouth twitched, “yes, multiple times.”

“Hey!” Cindra yelled in my ear as she lifted me to a seated position.

The door opened then. Nesta stood still, glancing between Cindra and I. Her brows pulling together at the compromising position before she averted her attention elsewhere.

Nesta bit the inside of her cheek as she sauntered towards us. “My apologies,” she whispered, setting the tray of food beside Cindra on the bed. She turned away, her spine lengthening as she headed for the door.

“Actually, I must be going,” Cindra smiled at her, releasing me back to the bed. She retrieved all of the used clothes and dirty bandages. “But you should stay,” she gave me a quick side glance, “it seems that he needs twenty-four-hour supervision.”

Nesta peered over her shoulder, her eyes focused on the porcelain bowl of mush.

Cindra retreated, swiftly closing the door behind her.

I still wasn’t fully dressed. At this point I didn’t want to be if it was going to be this much of a challenge to get changed. I ducked down, wincing from the pain, as I caught Nesta’s piercing eyes. “She’s only my guardian,” I assured her.

Nesta turned devastatingly slow to face me. “And yet she failed at protecting you,” the viper snapped before scanning my body. A rosy tint came and went when her eyes met mine again.

“She wasn’t given a choice,” I replied, noticing her body language shift as she paused halfway between the door and my bed. “I think I might need some help…” I attempted to rise to a seated position, swearing as I fell back down.

She hurried to my side, her hands pressing into my back to help me up. I shakily exhaled, the task of moving three inches wore me out. I leaned my head onto the carved headboard, observing the enchantress reaching for the tray. Though she was no longer touching me, I could still feel the whisper of her fingers. Shivers quaking through my entire body.

She didn’t speak as she brought the large bowl to my lap. Too focused on not splashing the steaming liquid onto me.  

“Would you believe me if I said that jealousy looks good on you?”

Nesta’s words caught fire, “I’m not jealous.”

I pursed my lips, attempting to not give wind of my jab, “whatever you need to tell yourself.”

“Prick,” she muttered beneath her breath as she handed me the stew. Nesta scooted the chair closer, strands of her hair falling from her braided bun.

I wondered what she would look like with her hair down. I’m not sure if my heart could take it.

“Witch,” I smirked, taking a hearty sip from my spoon. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever tasted in my life. I think I would have preferred to be stabbed again, honestly.  

Nesta’s hands brushed the non-existent dust from her dress, “how is it?” she inquired.  

“You should be happy you’re an emissary and not a cook,” I laughed at her open mouth, her increasing blush. “It’s rubbish,” I reported while finishing the rest of the bowl. Despite my protesting stomach, I relished in her speechless replies. It meant that she was finally taken aback by my words as I was by hers.

 Nesta had cleaned, cooked and organized everything in my room. She thought I was asleep. That I had dozed off by the third hour of her restlessness.

I didn’t want to sleep, in fear that she would be gone when I woke up. I listened to every noise she made. Whether it was her exaggerated sighs or the notes of her otherworldly hymns. I had never been so fascinated by someone before.

Not by Lys. Not by Mor.

I shifted my body, tired of laying in the same spot. I bit down on my tongue, trying not to make any noises while I moved. A foolish attempt…she heard me.  

“What do you need, Eris?” Nesta crossed the room, her hands dangling by her sides.

I scrunched up my nose, unable to fathom what I could possibly need besides her being here. She must have known that. Maybe this wasn’t about me though; she was different here. Not in the traumatized way like before but…there was something else.

Nesta scratched her chin on her shoulder, “I need to make myself of use. Is there an errand that must be done? I can’t possibly cook you another meal after this disaster.”

“A distraction,” I remarked, “what do you need a distraction from?”

Nesta returned to the empty chair beside me. She bowed her head so I could not read her emotions, her voice barely audible, “everything.”

I covered my hand on top of hers. I could feel the heartbreak with every letter, each shallow breath. “I could always use a woman in my bed.” My husky voice was meant to ravish her—to snap her out of her wandering mind.

Nesta’s head shot up, glare in full force. Coils of fire replaced her icy irises.

“You wanted a distraction,” I laughed, too hard and for too long. Scarlet stained my new bandages, patches of black spread across my vision as I hacked away. Shit. I raised my hand, covering my mouth as I continued coughing.  

Her eyes saddened, the fire diminishing within them as she wiped the blood from my lips with a napkin. “I’ll get the healers,” she insisted, letting go of me.

I grabbed her hand, smearing my blood onto her soft skin. “It was just a cough,” I swore, signaling for her to come back to me.

She didn’t. Instead she walked away towards the bathing room.

“What are you doing?” I called to her, thanking the mother above that she didn’t go to the healers.

“You smell like a horse’s backside,” she yelled over her shoulder.

I could hear her filling a basin with water. “How refreshing to have you home,” I admitted, feeling the fading embers within spark into a raging fire.  

She didn’t correct me, not a word. Maybe she didn’t hear me? Maybe I scared her?

Nesta in all her enchanting glory retreated from the bathing room, a soft glow radiating off her skin. She carefully moved across the room, pulling a sponge from the pocket of her Autumn attire. The emerald linen brought out the specks of turquoise in her eyes.  

Carefully resting the bowl on the nightstand, she didn’t take her seat on the wooden chair. Instead she sat beside me on the bed. Leaning over, she dipped her hands into the steaming bowl. Nesta squeezed the excess water from the sponge before lightly pressing it against my bare chest.

I didn’t break her concentration, not even when my thunderous heartbeat threatened to kill me. She had never touched me like this before. I, I didn’t want her to stop.  

She was hesitant at first, too nervous to drift towards my bandages. Nesta dunked the sponge again before moving the porous substance lower and lower. I could see the slight tremor of her fingers as she approached the brim of my pants.

Cauldron be damned, I felt myself sink. The merciless stir of my cock made me hold my breath. Now I was the one who needed a distraction.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” I revealed a secret, one I had never shared with anyone.  

“It seems you’re getting better, back to your pessimistic self.” Nesta attempted to be cruel, but her voice was too soft for it to be an insult.

I covered her hand with mine, putting a stop to her endless touch. My breathing deepened, a surge of pain rattled through my wound. I could not go on like this. I could not drown alone without first telling her of my regrets.

I observed the beautiful creature before me. The same woman who was tortured, beaten and almost raped because of me. “If you had never wished to see me again, I would not have thought ill of you.”

My words sliced into her, her body stilled. She shook her head, the initial shock wearing off, “how could you say that?”

“After all that I have done to you,” the lump in my throat rose, restricting my airways.

Nesta tightened her grasp around the substance, water soaking my belt line. Her attention remained on the sponge, on my gentle touch, “you found me when no one could. You cared for me when I could not care for myself. You protected me when I was defenseless. You taught me how to control a magic that terrorized me.” She guided our hands, dragging the golden material against my scar of claw marks, “so, I’m not sure what you speak of.”

“I tracked you in the woods, I slapped you whether it was to save you or not—I, I hurt you.” Lines of silver trickled down my face as I opened my mouth to cough away the building emotions. “It is because of me that you endured every pain this court had to offer. If I had just led my—”

“—I will not regret our time together, Eris.” Nesta interjected, her trembling voice grew cold as she held back her emotions. She glanced up, licking her lips, “will you?”

“I regret the damage I caused you, that is all.”

“If you had not slapped me, they would have killed me in the forest. If you had not undressed me in front of this court, they would have touched every inch of me. If you had not told Ferron to use fire to torture me, he never would have released me.” Nesta choked up as she regarded me. Spirals of fire released from her hand to mine, burning the sponge out of existence. “If you had not pushed us off the balcony, they would have killed you in front of me.” Her eyes diverted to our entangled flames, to the replay of our descent to the battlefield. Nesta’s voice quaked, “I cannot watch you die too.”

I studied our flaming figures fall, the power it took for me to winnow us away. It wasn’t my wound that stung now. I didn’t know how I was able to winnow with faebane, I just knew she didn’t deserve to die because of me. I too, could not watch her die.

Observing her intense gaze of our intertwined fingers, I replied, “thank you.” Unable to say what had been locked within since the moment I saw her. “Thank you for seeing more than a beast in fine clothing.”

“You are no beast, Eris,” her iridescent skin grew brighter and brighter. The caress of our flaming figures capsized within our hands as her grin expanded, “just a lord of fire and delayed wit.”

[writevswrong]

Eris Fanfic * When The Last Ember Falls * Chapter Twenty-Four

**In case you’re wondering how I picture Eris. Here he is (Alex MacKenzie, he’s a Canadian model and absolutely beautiful). :) And if you’re wondering why I keep choosing gifs of Rollo from Vikings (not a redhead)...he just captures a lot of the angst. haha. Anyways...Enjoy! 

 When The Last Ember Falls by L.J. LaFleur

Eris:

“Anything?” I asked, focusing on the maps strewn across my desk. After a moment of silence, I glanced up to my guardian.

Cindra shook her head, unable to report that they’ve captured Bronwynn yet again.

I knew she was just as frustrated as me. It had been weeks since Nesta left, even longer since we saw Bronwynn. I wouldn’t be surprised if he returned to Hybern. I also wouldn’t be surprised if he was just waiting for the right time strike. It was better to expect every possibility than only one.

I returned to the layer of maps, taking notes of the different territories within this court that have already been searched. I even gave warnings to the surrounding courts of Bronwynn’s deception. He would try and charm them, form an alliance if he wanted a shot at this throne. It’s what I would do.

Accidentally, I knocked over a stack of half written letters. I leaned over, picking up the parchments addressed to Nesta. I couldn’t bring myself to finish or send any.

“How are you?” Cindra asked, eyeing one of the letters in my hand. She scooted a plate of spiced apples towards me.

I shuffled the papers, glowering at the plate of food, “what’s this?”

“Believe it or not, those are apples,” she sarcastically replied. “You haven’t eaten in a while,” she stated with a heavy sigh, chastising me just as badly as my mother. No wonder they were getting along so well these days.  

Using the same excuse as always, I pushed the plate back to her, “I’ve just been busy. That’s all, Cindra.” In truth, I haven’t felt like eating.

Cindra snorted, shaking her head in exasperation, “I don’t believe you.”

I let out a frustrated exhale; I was trying to do better with my emotions. Peeking up at her, she gave me a knowing look. Yes, this was about Nesta.

Biting down on the inside of my lip, I debated what to say. How to say it. Feelings could be so tedious, no wonder my father and brothers never bothered with them.

Cindra leaned against the wall, checking that her nails were sharpened accordingly. “If I have to wait all day, I will. I’ll even have Mikayl stop by. Maybe force him to strong hold you into speaking.”

“Mikayl would not go against orders, he wouldn’t risk the death sentence,” I laughed half-heartedly. He would, for her. I knew of his feelings, of her feelings—they would both defy whatever orders necessary to save one another. It was a good thing I didn’t need much protecting.  

“I don’t know,” she sung, a smirk in place, “I think I’m worth dying for.”

“I’m sure he agrees,” I acknowledged, examining the pile of letters and maps. No matter how busy I had become, I never stopped thinking of her. I never stopped wondering what would have happened if she stayed. “I did find—”

Cindra didn’t let me switch subjects. She walked over, nudging the plate closer. The cool porcelain touched my elbow. I could just imagine her trying to force me to eat. Her hands holding my jaw open as Mikayl shoves a spoonful of gods know what into my mouth.  

Getting the hint, I took a bite of the largest slice. Crunching down on the juicy fruit, enjoying the rich cinnamon on top. Fine, she wins. It was delicious.

She waited and waited until I ate the entire plate of apple slices. I have never felt more like a child. Wait, I have. When she, Mikayl and my mother at one point all had to dress me due to my injury. Cindra looked satisfied at the empty plate but now she wanted me to talk—to express my feelings.

Inhaling deeply, I opened my mouth to let the words pour out, “I miss her. And everyday it should be getting easier but it’s not. I miss her wit, her presence—”

“—that body, am I right?” Cindra interrupted, her brows wiggling up and down.

“Cindra,” I scolded, not disagreeing with her.

“Sorry...”

I thought it would be easier with time. That I would be able to move past whatever happened. To let go. “As ridiculous as it sounds, most days I wish to be stabbed again so she’ll come back.”

Cindra pointed to the stack of unfinished letters, “I’m sure if you just sent her one of those, she would.”

I shook my head, it was best I not interfered with her and the bastard commander. “I…I wish she could be here for the ceremony tonight. I’m supposed to invite close friends and I don’t believe I have any besides you and her.”

“The High Lord of Spring?” she questioned, noticing my uneasy expression and quickly moving on. “You have Mikayl. Oh! The kids from the village. They would love to see you be officially crowned as their High Lord.” She smiled brightly as her ideas unfolded, “there’s still enough time. Let’s winnow to the Night Court and get our girl back!”

I fell back in my chair, losing what straight posture I had, “I appreciate your enthusiasm but it’s not that simple, Cindra. We can’t barge into another court like that.”

If we did, then it would look just as bad as Rhysand interrupting Feyre and Tamlin’s wedding. Despite his honorable intentions, there are still laws in Prythian. Not that I mind breaking laws for good reason but going against the strongest High Lord in Prythian’s history is a death wish.

“Then maybe tell her you’re in love with her,” Cindra shot back, her hands pressing into the desk as she glared at me.

“I think it might be too late for that.”

She bit her tongue, forcing herself to keep quiet. “Well, High Lord, I suggest you clean yourself up then. Tonight, you’ll wear the official crown. You’ll bear an even heavier weight on your shoulders as if you didn’t have enough. No big deal or anything.” Cindra turned on her heel, yelling over her shoulder, “send her an invitation, at least.”

“It’s last minute,” I argued, dipping my quill in red ink so I can tally up the known supporters of Bronwynn.

Cindra playfully snapped back, “so was getting stabbed.” She flipped her braid over her shoulder, emphasizing her point.

“I’d rather be stabbed than endure any more of this conversation.”

“It’s because I’m right!” she shouted as she shut the door behind her.  

She was. She was absolutely right.

 Cindra:

So, things escalated pretty quickly I’d say. Just before my lord was to swear his oath and recite the family mantra, guess who barged in through the copper doors? White cloak and all?

“Bronwynn, what are you doing here?” The Lady of Autumn stood up, her hand on my lord’s shoulder, a sign for him not to speak.

I think she believed that their exchange would only make matters worse. I wouldn’t doubt it.  

The traitor walked down the aisle of crimson, his hands raising towards the gossiping crowd, “did you think I wouldn’t fight for the crown, mother?”

The High Lord stood up, his height even more intimidating on the throne. “Are you challenging me?” he inquired, straight faced and even-tempered.

Bronwynn laughed, his silver speckled teeth shinning beneath the faelights as he ascended the dais. “To the death, brother,” he answered with a gravelly voice.

I leaned into the Lady of Autumn’s arm, “is this possible?” I mumbled. I couldn’t remember the last time this happened. Maybe it was before my lifetime?  

Without looking to me, she nodded as confirmation.  

My lord wasn’t fazed by Bronwynn’s scare tactics. Instead he lifted his chin, his voice colder than the Winter Court, “so be it…”  

 Hundreds of people were stuffed inside the throne room, all awaiting to see which Vanserra would live and who would fall. The crowd grew louder, a deafening noise as bets were placed and alliances were being formed.  

The High Lord and I winnowed to his room, each competitor given thirty minutes to make any final arrangements that were needed. I paced by his desk, unable to believe this was actually happening, “are you sure he can do this?”

“Yes,” the High Lord replied, wrapping his knuckles with white cloth. His auburn hair looked just like his flames, untamed. Amber eyes focusing on the stack of letters he never sent.  

“What of your injuries?” I asked; how could I protect him in this fight? How could he fight if he were still healing? He must be, he had to be.

He glanced up, smirking at my frightened expression, “which ones?”

“Exactly! Which ones??” I snapped, my armor clanking as I helped him tie the cloth around his wrist. The knot was tight, probably too tight. I didn’t mean to make it that way but when you’re mad, you’re mad.  

The High Lord started on his other hand, his focus now on the stars, “my leg is better. My chest, well it can’t be ripped open again. That wound has finally healed over.”

“And your heart?”

“It’s beating.”

“He will try and get into your head. You can’t let him,” I cautioned and lectured and cautioned again. I didn’t want to watch him die. I would lose much more than a High Lord, I would lose one of my closest friends.

He stopped winding the cloth, his eyes meeting mine, “I know, Cindra. You have nothing to worry about. You will not have to be his guardian if he wins.”

My eyes bulged, my stomach sank. I sure as fuck am not going to be Bronwynn’s guardian. I would slit his throat. “I don’t want to be…”

“Good,” he smiled, lifting his hand for me to secure the other wrap, “because he’ll probably kill us both.”

“Oh, wonderful,” I responded with little sarcasm, focusing on the second knot. Our laughter was not there, no humor was allowed in this moment. I wouldn’t let it. I couldn’t. There were bigger things at risk here.

The High Lord clenched his knuckles, checking the tightness. He focused his gaze back on the stars, “if I die…”

“—I won’t hear it,” I stopped him. I won’t listen to his stupid speech of what should happen if he failed tonight. Died tonight.  

He raised a brow, his voice dropping, “you will. As your High Lord, I am commanding you.”

I crossed my arms, swiftly releasing them since I probably looked like a damn child. I couldn’t help it in the moment. I never gave Mikayl a speech before my last fight. But then again, I didn’t think I was gonna die.

Did he think he was going to die??

“Take my mother, head to the Night Court,” he said, untying his boots and pulling off his socks.

“Why there? Wouldn’t she be safe here? That’s his mother.”

“Bronwynn was much closer to my father. Respecting women, even his own mother, will not happen if he becomes High Lord.” He stuffed the socks into the leather straps, putting the boots to the side, “despite Rhysand being a prick at times, he is one of the only faes that I trust.”

“And Nesta is there,” I added, knowing that she would be soul-crushed if he died. She would storm the castle, rip Bronwynn to ribbons, and burn him to ash. I would help her.  

“Yes…” his thoughts trailing off. Amber eyes flared as he regarded me, “she will protect you two.”

“What about her? What am I supposed to tell her if…?”

He remained quiet, sadness touching his eyes. A sadness I had never seen before. No, that was a memory—like he already knew what life would be like on the other side without her.

“Now that you’ve given me your death instructions, here’s my advice…” I stated, clutching my hand around the hilt of my blade. A common habit for when I needed strength, “don’t fucking die.”

“I’ll try my best,” he nodded, the corner of his lips struggling to form a smile.  

[writevswrong]

Eris Fanfic * When The Last Ember Falls * Chapter Twelve

When The Last Ember Falls by L.J. LaFleur

Cindra:

The Gryphon, also known as Nesta, had stayed by the High Lord’s side all day. Whatever he needed whether he requested help or not, she was there. I stood guard outside his door, eavesdropping every moment I could. That’s what guardians are supposed to do, right? Make sure their High Lord is safe?

“What do they have you doing in Velaris now? Picking out the High Lady’s wardrobe? Collecting taxes? Or, maybe, organizing their subpar library? Hm?” the High Lord taunted from his bed.

Nesta’s small voice confessed, “I haven’t been able to step into the library since…”

There was a moment of hesitation before my lord’s voice gave in. A tenderness I had never heard from him before, “what is it? What haunts you, Nesta?”

“Nothing—sorry,” her soft voice armed itself with swords dipped in faebane.

“You know, maybe if you focused on helping me actually get better, you wouldn’t be so caught up in past memories.”

Let the bantering begin…

“One of these days, I will slap you from here to the human realm.”

“I would say you slap like an infant then.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“You’re the temptress,” he argued. “Sleeping in my chambers as bare as the day you entered the world.”

Nesta gasped, her steel voice raged on, “I can’t help it—it’s not like they make expandable clothes for Gryphons, you ass.”

A moment of silence before an exchange of laughter. They fell quiet again. It wasn’t an awkward lull in conversation—it was their own. Whether it was through body language or reading each other’s minds, I knew they were still communicating, I just wasn’t privy to it.  

Affection returned to my lord’s voice, “I didn’t look this morning, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I didn’t,” the Gryphon paused. I could hear her cleaning up the layers of parchments on his desk. “I knew if you hadn’t taken your many chances in the dungeon than you wouldn’t do it now.”

Always at the ready, my lord replied, “a gentleman, am I not?”

“A High Lord,” she answered, rustling the papers into organized stacks.

He groaned, probably from trying to move towards her. I’m sure he failed and I’m positive she scared him still. His voice carried through the room, breathing ragged as he retreated to a stable position, “you don’t have to call me, High Lord, you know.”

“Then what do you propose I call you? A boob?”

“A boob?” my lord’s bellowing laughter vibrated against the walls. Wet coughs exploded from his lips before his wicked tongue could reply.

Immediately to her feet, I heard her rush to his side. “I, I’m sorry…” she stammered.

I imagined her sitting beside him, cloth in hand while dabbing the material against the blood splatter…

Her warm hands slowly moving from his chest down to the ties of his trousers. Kidding. If only that were taking place right now. I wouldn’t even mind. Guardians are trained to withstand hours of moans, groans, screams—you name it.  

The High Lord’s gravelly voice turned to silk, “for what? Calling me a boob? Yes, you should be.”

“No, for making you laugh and causing you further pain,” her voice near a whisper before she sarcastically said his title, “High Lord.”

Irony flooded out of him as he attempted to play it cool, “I’ve missed your endearing insults.”

“Are you hungry?” she switched subjects, not risking to tell him she missed him too.

She had to miss him. Why else would she come?

And he loved her. Why else would she stay?

“Famished,” he responded, his stomach roaring before he could finish.

Nesta made her way towards the exit, “I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?”

If I wasn’t listening so damn closely, I would say he was only curious. But curse me, I was, and the lingering fear in his voice made me want to scream at them. Were they both that deep in denial that neither one of them could see the obvious signs??

Fucking kiss her already, High Lord. Get up, fall to your knees and when she helps pick you up, you kiss her. Is that so hard?    

Nesta’s hand gripped the doorknob, cracking it open for me to hear more clearly. “To make you some food. I’m tired of hearing your gurgling stomach,” she explained with more bite than necessary.

“Do you even know where the kitchen is?” he quipped at the Gryphon.

“I’ll find it.”

 I stood straight, hand on the decorative hilt of my blade as Nesta walked out of his room. She didn’t notice me, or maybe she did and just ignored my awkward wave. I would say the latter.

I peeked inside, seeing a smile as bright as the sun on my lord’s face. Since she was going to make him food, this would be the perfect opportunity to discuss what in the hell is happening here. I mean, a guardian is supposed to watch and keep their High Lord safe but a great guardian. Well, a great guardian would investigate the possibility of good fortune. Right?  

Quickly slipping through the door, I cleared my throat, “so that’s Nesta, huh?”  

The High Lord’s glare nearly had me on my knees to beg forgiveness, his voice made of fire and more fire, “what are you getting at, guardian?” He was slightly propped up, still in his clothes from the night before.

“She’s quite the beauty…” I whistled, my hands outlining the curvy shape of her body.

A flash of red, a second of hoping. “Whatever is gnawing at your brain, I suggest you say it,” he demanded with a raised, auburn brow.

Okay, time to be more direct then. I lowered my voice in case the Gryphon stood outside the door listening, “no wonder you can’t seem to get over her, by the mother above she is something else.”

“Cindra…” he cautioned.

I shrugged, glancing to the bloodied bandages that needed to be removed. Gross. “She’s here, isn’t she?” I pushed, hoping he would understand what I was getting at. I looked from him to the red cloths, waiting for his okay to remove them.  

The High Lord nodded, bracing himself, “what is that supposed to mean?” He winced as I ripped off the first layer.

“She must care for you in some way, why else would she come?” I asked, my brows knitting together as I focused on the second layer. Some of his blood had dried to the fabric, forming a barrier between his skin and the bandages. This was going to hurt.

I ripped off the second layer as fast as I could.

He grinded his teeth together, hissing with pain. “We are only friends,” he finally said, focusing on the broken window, “nothing more.”

I didn’t know if he was looking away to avoid the new blood flow or if he was remembering the past. Either way, he didn’t look well. Pressing a clean cloth onto his chest, I quickly scooped the goop of black he was given by the healers. “If my friend was stabbed, I would send him a note. But if Mikayl was attacked—”

“—it’s complicated,” he interrupted, his face turning to stone. Whatever emotions he showed Nesta, he certainly was not displaying them for anyone else.  

I still held my hand on his chest, my body shifting to fully face him, “is it?”

[writevswrong]

Eris Fanfic * When The Last Ember Falls * Chapter Twenty-Three

When The Last Ember Falls by L.J. LaFleur

Cindra:

“Nesta?” I called out, knocking on her door as I walked in. She would hate it but I didn’t care. I figured we’re close now. Girlfriends. I mean, I’ve seen her naked. We’re close.

The room had darkened, the faelights barely buzzing to life. “My lord?” I questioned, seeing the High Lord sitting on the edge of Nesta’s bed. Hunched and still, he held her golden gown in his hands.

I dared to go further into the room, hopefully I wasn’t interrupting them. I must say, I have never been more turned on by two people’s sexual tension before. The ball. Their dancing. So hot.

He didn’t say anything, not even when I sat beside him. I scanned the room again, everything still remained in it’s place from last night. No sign of the Gryphon.

“Has she left?”

He only nodded, still engrossed by her beaded bodice. Dried crimson had stained the front of it but other than that, it was in impeccable condition. So, he didn’t rip it off her last night as me and Mikayl had hoped.  

I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t expecting this. “Do you need anything?” I asked, afraid my words would cause more damage.

“Just go,” he choked out, starlight lining his eyes.

There wasn’t anything else to say or do. Not now. Not when he needed his time to recover. I only hoped Nesta would return. That maybe, somehow in this crazy world, she would come home.

 Eris:  

For hours I stared at Nesta’s dress. Clutching it in my calloused hands as water droplets fell onto the blood-smeared pearls. I didn’t want to let go. If I did, then this was real. Telling her to go home, not professing my love to her—all true.  

I appreciated Cindra’s kind words but I did not want them. I didn’t want anything. I rubbed my thumb against the golden rings one last time before I went to Nesta’s wardrobe. Placing her damaged gown next to the others, I felt the muscles in my cheeks feather.

Part of me wanted to winnow back to the Night Court, to tell her everything I had locked away. If I were rejected then, at least I were being honest to her and myself. I couldn’t. For the life of me, all I could think about was her running into that bastard’s arms.

But she was happy, I reminded myself. She was finally able to leave without guilt, her so-called “debt” repaid.

Clenching my fists, I headed to her bathing room. A bath had already been drawn for her earlier this morning. The water cold from sitting so long.

I didn’t bother undressing, I only had my trousers on anyways. Sinking into the water, I rested my head against the copper lip of the tub. Each breath felt heavier and heavier, I was being crushed from my own misery.

She is happy. She is loved.

I slipped beneath the surface. Igniting on my descent, unable to take the ice invading my chest. I felt like the sun; wisps of fire flickering off my skin, so hot I felt the metal give beneath my palms.

I held myself down, screaming at the top of my lungs. Frustration, agony, despair—all of it. I screamed until the water invaded and my vision blurred.

A hand reached in, plucking me out of the tub with ease. I crashed on the ground, choking up the water that threatened to kill me.

“You and Rhysand are such dramatic High Lords. I’m really surprised you two do not get on better,” Ronan’s faint accent curled around me, his snickering sent chills down my spine.

I raised to my forearms, the burning in my chest persisting. I glanced down, I had torn open another section of my wound when I fell. Excuse me, I mean to say, when I was dropped. “What do you want?” I rasped, sucking in as much air as possible.

Ronan blinked, unable to fathom my question. He sat near the melted edge of the tub, glancing from me to the damaged metal, “I’ve come to warn you, has that not been obvious since day one?”

Finally making it to my knees, I growled, “about?” I pressed my hand into my chest, attempting to stop the blood from flowing. Crimson seeped through the cracks of my fingers, trailing down my knuckles. Drops of red speckling the stone floor.  

“Nesta,” Ronan leaned off the tub, noticing the empty room, “where’s Nesta?”

“I sent her home,” I coughed the remaining water from my lungs. I reached for a nearby towel and held it against my chest. One of these days I would fully heal, but for now, it was a reminder that Nesta was here. That she came back when I needed her most.  

Ronan shot to his feet, his eyes narrowing. “Why would you do that?” he snapped, the shadows on his shoulders crawled up to his ear. A deep scowl forming as the darkness whispered to him.

I stood up, leaning against the vanity for support. Dozens of earrings had been laid out for her selection last night. Feeling the threat of my mistakes, the burning in my chest, I replied, “she needed to be with her family, her mate.”

Ronan scoffed, more and more shadows caressing his shoulders, he muttered, “must I do everything myself?” The being that haunted Nesta, the king of the underworld, vanished.

 I contemplated if I truly meant to die today. If what happened in the tub was really a release or my last goodbye. It wasn’t. I did not mean to drown, I wasn’t attempting to end my life.

I was heartbroken, yes, but this was not how my life would end. I sure as fuck hope not anyways. Drowning is by far the worst near-death experience I have ever had. I would take a spear through the knee any day if it meant not drowning again.

I shook my head, realizing I would have to find a new way to release my magic and emotions. Maybe some other way than nearly dying? Perhaps I’ll take up painting like the High Lady or meditate like my mother. No, I have it…talking. Yes, expressing my actual feelings rather than stifling them like I have the last three hundred years.

My father and brothers would have been disgusted with me for revealing such feelings. When Lys was butchered in front of me, father said I showed a weakness. No Autumn High Lord is to have one.

Thankfully, they’re dead and I’m not.  

I debated whether to sleep in Nesta’s room or mine. I wasn’t sure which would be more pathetic, probably hers. I stared up at the ceiling, my eyes hungry for every bit of detail I put into her room. I did not regret this. I did not regret our time together.

Heading to my chambers, I kept the towel on my wound. It still felt like water was caught in my lungs. Every cough seared my throat, every movement of my chest stung. I knew Cindra was listening on the other side of her door, waiting for me to call her if I needed something—anything. I didn’t.

Entering my room, I released a heavy sigh. The weight of the world unable to fall off my shoulders. I glimpsed at my broken window, I didn’t want them to fix it just yet.

I sat on my bed, smearing the onyx rub on my wound as I looked up at the stars. Part of me hoped that Nesta was curled up by the fire, book in hand while sipping her jasmine tea. The other part wishing she was staring at these same stars, hoping I was looking too.

I lifted the blankets, slowly sliding beneath them. I would make it through this. I would survive another day. Shifting on my back until I was comfortable, I closed my eyes. If I were lucky, I’d dream of her again. Maybe then, I would tell her I love her.

 We were in charge of dismantling and destroying all of Hybern’s faebane supply. Not an easy task by how heavily armed the caravans were. My brothers winnowed to each wagon, blue fires burning the faebane out of existence.

Everything seemed to be all and decent for a battlefield until the cauldron turned half the Night Court’s Illyrian army into ash. I relayed what I could to Tamlin, Jurian and my father. Winnowing to each of them like the world were to split open. I wouldn’t doubt if it did after this.

My father led the army, but I was his weapon. A son who could walk through fire, become it, not just wield it like my brothers. I disappeared into the line, not needing to pull my sword from its sheath.

Willing the fire, calling the shadows—I transformed. My entire body engulfed in flames, winnowing through the lines. If I did not burn the enemy then I used my claws to shred them. Talons that could slice through metal as easy as swords cut through men.

I opened a path for my brothers, one leading straight to the cauldron. Egan shouted as he sliced into the nearest monster, fire shooting out of his hand at another. Aedin was smiling, blood splattering onto his teeth as he pulled his blade from an enemy’s neck.

“Focus, Aedin!” I barked, sending a blast of fire into the faes behind him.

Aedin nodded, growling as he leashed his inner cravings. He was just as bad as the enemy, he just happened to be on the right side with Vanserra blood pumping through him.  

Charging forward, I saw it. Movement in the sky where an army of ash had just rained down on us. My head shot up, the smell of magnolia’s stunning me. This was a battlefield. One of blood, shit and mud.

How…?

Steel laced with faebane shot through my leg. I shouted in agony as I crumbled to the ground. Looking to where the arrow would have come from, I saw a hooded figure. A white cloak splattered with blood, silver wings embroidered on the bastard’s back.

“Brother!” Egan yelled to Aedin, both racing to my side.

Snarling as they picked me up, my talons sunk back into my bones. “Gods-damn it,” I cursed beneath my breath. I tried to put weight on my leg, if they weren’t holding me up then I would have collapsed.

“What the fuck distracted you?” Aedin criticized, his voice low and piercing.

I would never hear the end of this. I lied in order to save face, “I thought I felt the cauldron again.”

“You weren’t looking at the cauldron,” Egan remarked, his eyes shifting through the crowd of warriors.

“Release me,” I ordered as we retreated behind the burnt orange line of soldiers. “Get back out there. There’s still wagons of faebane hidden. Obviously, we didn’t get rid of them all,” I snapped at my brothers.  

Aedin and Egan looked at each other before their eyes widened at what stood behind me. Hesitantly, I turned my head to see what or who would kill me. What my last memory would be of.

It was our father, in all his glory and silver armor. A disapproving look already strained his features. Father ordered from atop his horse, “get to the medical tent, Eris!”

“I’ll be fine,” I muttered, ripping off a section of my red cape to wrap around my knee for the bleeding to stop.

“Don’t be a deserter like Bronwynn,” Aedin teased, racing back into enemy territory. His sword at the ready as he sliced down two encroaching enemies.

“I am your High Lord. Now, do as I say,” father demanded, his arm raising towards the nearest tent of healers.

I watched him ride away, trampling and stabbing faes that threatened our line. Glancing up to the sky, not seeing a fucking thing, I swore beneath my breath again. The smell of blood and piss returning. I could feel—

 “—wake up, my lord. WAKE UP!”

I shot up to a seated position, sweat sizzling off my body, “what…?” My breathing heavy, body shaking as I fought off the phantom pain in my leg. I squeezed my eyes shut, rubbing my palms down my face before surveying my guardian. “What is it?” I asked, my voice sounded hoarse, a radiating pain in the back of my throat only made it worse.    

Cindra’s eyes were wild, her hand moving away from her blade. “You were screaming. I’m just making sure you’re okay. Are you okay?” she asked, horrified of what I might say next. What possible nightmares haunted me after living as long as I have.

I wiped the building sweat from my forehead, “I’m fine, I’m good.” I reached for my knee, gently rubbing the arrow’s entry point on my leg. “Have you heard anything from Bronwynn’s supporters?”

She shimmied off the bed, standing to her full height as she recited, “nothing but the usual comments, my lord.”

“Find him.”

“My lord?”

Thinking back to my nightmare—the battlefield. I should have known the moment he walked into the throne room. I should have caught it then. “White cape, silver wings…he isn’t just a deserter. He’s an ally of Hybern,” I connected the dots for her, she wasn’t there for the war, she didn’t see it.

Cindra shook her head, not understanding why any of this mattered, “the King of Hybern is dead.”

“It doesn’t mean all of his supporters are,” I clenched my fists, feeling the animal within wanting to escape. “Find him,” I ordered, amber flickering from my knuckles.    

Cindra nodded, backing away from me. Her jaw tightening as she gripped the hilt of her blade. “And what will happen once we find him?”

“Bring him to Ferron’s torture chamber.”

“Isn’t Ferron dead?” she asked, confused by my request.

“Yes,” I answered. I did not divulge anything more.

My guardian nodded, believing it was me who killed him. She wasn’t wrong and she didn’t need the gruesome details of what I did to Ferron and the guards who harmed Nesta. Every punch, every mark, was amplified. Every device that was used on her—I used on them—but worse.

It wasn’t their screams that haunted me, it was hers. It wasn’t their eyes that stalked my dreams, it was hers. Their final moments, the time that I should have stopped. I couldn’t.

Nesta did not burn from my touch, but they did. I watched as their bodies turned to ash and that ash fall to the dungeon floor. There were no regrets, no nightmares of their final moments.    

Cindra’s forehead puckered, mouth parting, “then who will torture Bronwynn?”

I glanced from her to my knee, “it will only be a conversation.”