A Court of Sins and Nightmares
Chapter five
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Eris Vanserra x OC! Alessia Mors
Warnings: Not much. Angsty, tho.
Eris stood at the bottom of the staircase, his eyes lurking over every intricate detail that had been carved on the polished stone steps that led to the heavy walnut doors of the forest house. He flinched slightly when Alessia stirred in his arms, her hands gripped onto the loose collar of his tunic. His cheeks heated up at her gesture.
He had almost forgotten that his arms were holding her sleeping form up against his chest. Eris looked away from her, his heart pounding in his chest as he prepared to climb up the stairs and enter the demon's lair, or as other people would call it, the Vanserra’s residency.
His leathered boots met each step one by one, slowly, it almost seemed as if he was reluctant to bring Alessia into this hell of a place. The doors opened as if someone had been waiting for him to get back: of course there was.
Adhelaid Krause Vanserra. “Mother.” Eris bowed his head slowly, averting her worried gaze as her beautiful russet eyes, the same as Lucien's, flickered between him and Alessia.
She sucked in a breath, her lips sealed in a thin line. “Is she…”
“Sleeping, mother. She's just sleeping.” Eris reassured her. A shiver ran down his spine at how limp and light Alessia felt in his arms. How… dead, indeed, she looked.
He never noticed how her brown pigmented skin seemed to be veiled, almost muted. Surely the lack of sun filtering through the mountain of Hewn City didn't do her any good.
Adhelaid nodded slowly, her traits loosened as she regained her calm composure. “Thank the Cauldron,” She cleared her throat a little and turned on her heels. “Your father has matters to discuss with you. He'll be waiting in his office,” She told Eris over her shoulder as she kept walking.
Before Adhelaid disappeared around a corner, her guards trailing behind her, she halted. “Eris,” She didn’t even turn around to look at him, but Eris saw how her body straightened, and he could sense that his mother was weighing her next words. “Take care of the girl.”
Eris' arms tightened around Alessia. His brows frowned, but before he could snap back a snarky response, Adhelaid stormed out of the foyer. He grumbled. Why would she assume that he needed to be reminded of how to take care of his…
Eris gulped, fiancé. Alessia was his… fiancé. It sounded weird in his head. Why did she accept this alliance so… easily.
“If you agree to let me help you, I’ll let you go.”
“What’s the price of your help…”
“My own satisfaction.”
The more he thought about this conversation he had with Alessia, the less it made sense. What satisfaction could she find in helping him? Was she really being truthful about her intentions? Eris opened his bedroom with a foot, the wooden door softly groaning as he made his way inside the room.
Eris stepped into the quiet bedroom, enjoying the silence while he could. He knew that the discussion he'd have to have with his father would be anything but pleasant.
He laid Alessia over the sheet of the bed, his bed, he couldn't help the weird clutch of his heart at the thought. His fingers delicately unlaced her muddied boots, and he neatly put them down on the carpet beside the door.
Eris stood there for a while, staring at Alessia as she was already starting to instinctively curl her arms around a pillow. He couldn't leave her sleeping like this… surely she would get cold.
So Eris quietly walked back toward the bed, absent-mindedly holding a breath. He carefully laid a throw over her, and a fire appeared in the hearth with only a flick of his fingers.
He took a few steps back from her, slowly, reluctantly leaving the peaceful quiet of his chambers.
Well, their chambers from now on.
Eris frowned, contemplating Alessia’s sleeping form for a few more seconds, before heading to his father's office.
His steps instinctively led him there, the path clearly memorized in his head from how many times a day Eris had been summoned by Beron for centuries over various matters.
But this time, Eris knew that this “matter” Beron had to discuss with him would probably end up in a brawl of flames and sparks.
Before he knew it, Eris was standing in front of Beron's desk. His father's awaiting eyes glimmered dangerously, but Eris didn't break despite his heart beating like mad.
“You had matters to discuss with me, father?”
The room was silent, peaceful. The soft crackling embers in the hearth were still red, meaning that the fire that had been dancing in there just recently died down. Alessia’s unconscious body was sprawled all over the bed, the sheets messily curling around her body and a pillow tucked into her arms as if she was hugging it.
Her rounded chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm, and the sun rays gently settled atop her body, its warm caress keeping her warm. A thick carpet of fog covered the floor surrounding the bed she was resting in, the mass of magic was inoffensive, but ready to attack anyone that dared disturb their master’s more than needed sleep.
The bedroom door yanked open, jolting Alessia out of her slumber. She clutched the sheets to her body, reaching for the dagger on her thigh only to realize that she was wearing none. Her breath quickened, as she tried to focus her bleary eyes to the figures standing at the unfamiliar bedroom door.
“Oh!” One of the two servants squealed at seeing Alessia disheveled, sitting straight in their prince’s bed. Both of them dropped the heavy looking bed frame they were carrying and bowed to the hips at the young witch.
“M-Miss Mors! Apologies, Mister Vanserra didn’t tell us that you would be sleeping. If we had known-”
The youngest one straightened when a tendril of mist swirled up her leg, climbing to the side of her stomach and lingered there, rubbing against the area in circular motions. Alessia rose up, her feets hurriedly dragged her towards the terrified housemaid. She waved her hand over the young Fae stomach, trying to shoo away the disobedient ripples of mist.
How ironic that she couldn't even contain her own power.
The murk eventually evaporated, disappearing somewhere in the room, probably lurking the corners to keep an eye on their mistress. What stubborn things they were.
Alessia sighed and reached a hand towards the domestic to apologize, but she flinched at her movement.
Alessia retracted her hand at her side, and before she could open her mouth to apologize, the other housemaid spoke. “We'll just settle the other bed Prince Eris requested in the room, and we'll leave, Miss Mors.”
Alessia felt a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. She failed to control her powers, and scared people off. Again. The heavy silence that fell in the room after that interaction was enough to echo Alessia's shame and the guilt that haunted her.
“Stop trying to train her,” Thanatos' groggy voice rang from his slumped form. His words were destined for your instructor standing beside you, but he was staring at his daughter dead in the eyes. His eyes were lined with dark circles caused by his sleepless nights since Nemesis had been abducted by Amarantha’s soldiers. “She's a lost cause.” He finally spat, his teeth clenched as he stormed out of the room, unable to look at his daughter.
His daughter who looked too much like the woman he hadn't got the time to demonstrate his love for her properly. And he would never get a chance to love her properly ever again.
May her soul lay peacefully in the Mother’s hands and her body somewhere in the gloomy Bog of Oorid.
Her father's voice slipped from her memories, reminding her mind the pain these words had caused her. He had given up on her long ago. She had wanted him dead that day. But now that he was….
Alessia shook the thought out of her head, refusing to sulk over her old man's death. She wondered how Thanatos had managed to convince Eris that she was a powerful witch.
Because she wasn't. She would never be.
She was a lost cause.
“Where is the witch?”
It wasn't a real question, and Eris knew it. It was an order.
“Miss Alessia Mors is sleeping. The evening have been eventful and-”
“Eventful?”
“Lord Keir and Thanatos are dead.”
Silence fell on the room. The chair creaked as Beron dropped down on it. The High Lord was now drumming his fingers on the desk, brows furrowed. “How?”
“Butchered.”
Beron's eyes narrowed, looking at his son dubiously. “Butchered?”
Eris nodded his head slowly. He had rarely seen a body as severely mutilated as Keir's. Somehow… Somehow Morrigan had seemed to spare Thanatos, kind of.
The wounds on Thanatos’ body have been deep enough to be fatal, but short enough so he would bleed slowly. As if she had wanted for Thanatos death to be slow, so he could witness how she butchered Keir.
“Who's been alerted?” Beron's voice interrupted his thoughts.
Eris bit his tongue, knowing that a wildfire was about to roar in his father’s study. “No one.”
“No one?!” Beron’s fists slammed onto the wooden desk. “Rhysand is going to completely have his hands on it now! The witch didn't claim Keir's pathetic Steward title?!”
“Technically, Morrigan has that claim.”
“I don't care about technicalities, son.” Beron snarled, his fists combusting in flames, harmful to anyone but himself. “She's from Hewn City, she's part of the Mors family, she has powers, so she has every damned right to take Keir’s title.”
Eris had tasted the punishing pain of this magic more times than he’d like to remember. The hair at the back of his neck rose. “I'll make sure to arrange a meeting with all of the High Lords to discuss this matter.”
“You and Alessia will discuss this matter with them. Do not count on me to assist one of these painful High Lords meetings.” Beron's angry expression shifted into a wicked grin. “And when she’ll take over Hewn City, with you by her side… It’ll give me direct access to Rhysand.”
And once Rhysand was out of the game… Beron could easily become High King.
Bile rose in Eris' throat at the thought. He couldn't let this happen. He needed to act, and quickly.
If Alessia was truthful about her desire to participate in Beron's assassination… He would selfishly appreciate any kind of help at this point. Any risks were worth taking now.
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