i'm sick and still kept up YA WELCOME
ATLAS SMILED | CH 4
Brother. Friend. Lover. General. Rival. Comrade. Shield. Seven people tell their story of Cassian. But only one realizes they're all the same. A series of ficlets for Cassian Week 2026.
Day Four: Lover for @cassianappreciationweek
ERIS
Read below the cut or on ao3
They're bickering again.
Through the trees, Eris watches Nesta Archeron alights from her mates arms just before he sneezes.
"I told you to take your tonic before we got here."
"Did you want me to drop you to reach in my—"
Cassian sneezes again, so forcefully he stumbles back a few feet. His wings shoot out wide, spanning the whole courtyard, and the leaves they kick up make him sneeze again. And again.
Nesta rolls her eyes, reaching up to tug on her mate's earlobe, and the spike of envy in Eris's gut is buried under a wave of boredom.
They do this every fucking time.
Dressed all in black scale armor, the mated pair looks absurd against the fiery maples in his private courtyard at the Forest House. Like they've shown up for training instead of a trade negotiation. Like they'd start rolling around on the flagstones if no one was looking.
What a waste.
Nesta should be sitting on that swinging bench reading poetry. Cassian should be in the mud somewhere.
Instead she's unstoppering a bottle from the satchel at his side, and he's pinching his nose while downing the acid-green liquid with a grimace.
What an utter waste.
But it's fine. Eris rather enjoys playing audience to these squabbles, if he's honest. Though unfortunately, it's time for this one to end.
"Sounds like there's a galewyrm out here, I was about to send the hounds on you," he says loudly, strolling from the alcove where he's been observing them.
They both turn to him at the same moment, Cassian laughing while Nesta's expression flattens.
"Nope, just leaves. You've got a real problem with those around here."
"You're late," Nesta says tartly. "You two talk. I'm going to raid your library."
She breezes past him without another word, disappearing into his study. Chuckling still , Cassian fishes in his satchel before producing a folded document stamped with a violet seal.
"Here you go. Guaranteed safe passage through the Breakwater for all ships with Autumn Court banners."
Eris blinks, taken aback. He takes the parchment and unfolds it, half-expecting Rhysand to have sent a diatribe of expletives.
Instead he finds… exactly the terms he asked for?
"So he agreed to my terms after all?" Eris asks, incredulous.
"Yeah."
"But he stoutly refused just days ago."
An understatement. The words I'd sooner give Tamlin a seat at my table come to mind.
Cassian shrugs. "Changed his mind, I guess."
"Why the devil would he do that?"
"Maybe he liked your idea better."
Fire sparks at Eris's fingertips, and he mumbles an incantation to keep it from damaging the paper. Cauldron boil him, he's in no mood for games today. Whatever racket the Night Court is trying to run, he's not about to be snookered.
"Don't have me on," he growls. "Rhysand would hate the wind if someone else were lord of it."
Leaning a wrist on the pommel of his sword, Cassian shrugs again.
"The Breakwater's already crawling with foreign traders. One more court at Saltspire won't make a difference."
"Then what was all that dithering about Helion getting shirty?"
"Sometimes Rhys needs to hear from—well."
He's silent long enough that Eris starts to feel the thickness of it.
"Not you," Cassian finishes at last.
Eris lowers the parchment. Cassian's eyes dart left, then up—subterfuge. Concealment. But for what?
"You convinced him."
"I mean… yeah?"
The general scratches absently at the back of his neck, as though it's no more remarkable than asking someone to pass the salt.
So Eris waits for the catch.
The trick. The caveat. The great oaf is about to ask for something more than just a handful of books for his wife, and Eris has the low ground, having just gotten everything he wanted.
It doesn't come.
It irks him.
"This simpleton act is wearing thin," he snaps, more harshly than intended.
But Cassian only smiles.
"What act?"
"Come now. You scratch my back, and I scratch your vile, hairy—"
"Are you misbehaving again, Eris?" Nesta asks lightly, appearing at his shoulder. "Don't tell me you've forgotten what happened last time."
He certainly hasn't. The carpet in his study still bears silver scorch marks.
Cassian smirks and swipes his hand over his nose before reaching for her pillaged stack. Nesta doesn't move. Only arches a brow until her mate wipes his palm off on his thigh before she finally cedes her books.
"I still don't understand why you refuse to use a handkerchief," she grouses.
"The world is my handkerchief, Nes."
Their bickering disappears on the wind, and he ignores the fizzle of malcontent in his chest watching them go. Especially when Cassian's wings rush faster and they shoot above the clouds, Nesta's wild laughter raining down on him like silver coins tossed from the heavens.
The irony, that the bastard is somehow richer than he'll ever be.
Eris drinks too much wine that night. He falls into bed woozy and over-full, angry at nothing, which is as close to lonely as he ever gets.
Tag list: @wolfnesta @clarranam @jsmelodies @misstyfikacja @scarlettrose80 @silly-little-lizard @acourtofladydeath @freyjascatchariot @spilledcoffeechronicles @chelseamorninggirl @norabraveseeker @mydnights @irithiadourden @ericacharles514 @ladyefoxy @something-xoxo @smol-grandpa @humansaredumb @pham-tastical
Please let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off! apologies if you're coming from one of my other fics, i only do a general taglist
