You were banished for the danger you posed — not to Asgard, but to him. Before Loki’s fall, you were everything he wasn’t meant to have: powerful, unafraid, and bound to him by something deeper than magic. Now, years later, you're summoned home… and find him alive, unchanged, and burning in your veins like he never left. You knew his magic by touch. And the moment you feel it again — you remember everything.
Loki x powerful fem!sorcerer!reader
You hadn’t stepped foot in Asgard in over three years.
Not since the battle that nearly burned your hands to ash. Not since Odin’s command stripped you of your title and sent you to exile in the outer realms — too wild, too unpredictable, too close to the second son.
Not since Loki "died."
But now you were back. Summoned in silence. The High Council needed your knowledge of ancient magic — dark magic — the kind that moved in riddles and bled through veils.
You should have refused.
You didn’t.
And now, walking through the golden halls again — older, sharper, still half-haunted by your past — you felt it.
Not the palace. Not the court.
Him.
His magic slid over your skin before you reached the library doors. Cold, calculated. Familiar like a scar.
You paused in the archway. He was already waiting. Leaning against the far window, backlit in fading sunlight, dressed in black and green as if time had never moved.
But it had.
And so had you.
“I thought you were dead,” you said.
Loki didn’t turn. “A popular belief.”
“You let me grieve.”
“I let you live.”
That made you flinch. Because it was true.
Back then — before the chaos, before his fall — you’d been more than aligned. He had shown you magic without boundaries. You had shown him how it could be shaped by something other than pain. Together, you were devastating.
And dangerous.
Odin saw it. He separated you first. Banished you after.
And Loki? He let it happen.
Until he vanished. Until the stars whispered he was gone.
You moved further into the library. He watched you now — silent, unreadable.
“I thought of you,” he said. “In the dark places.”
You swallowed. “I didn’t think you could.”
He stepped closer. The air around you shifted. Your magic responded before you could stop it — rising like heat, reaching for his.
“I never stopped,” he said, quieter now. “I tried. I tried to forget how your power felt.”
You shook your head. “You never knew how to feel it. You only ever took.”
“No,” Loki said, voice raw. “Not you. I let you see it.”
He was in front of you now. The energy between your bodies sang — old magic, threaded with memory.
“You knew my magic by touch,” he whispered. “You always did.”
Your throat tightened. “And I felt it leave me the night they dragged me away.”
His hand lifted — slow, uncertain. But you didn’t pull back. Not this time.
Fingers brushed your jaw.
The connection struck instantly.
The threads of your magic tangled with his in the space between breaths — hot and cold, memory and grief, power and want. You saw flashes behind your eyes: the night you first touched, your hands pressed together over a spell too old to be named; his voice in your mind during your exile, calling your name like prayer.
Tears stung your eyes. You hadn’t meant to let them.
“I would’ve destroyed them for you,” he said, shaking now. “If you’d asked.”
“I didn’t want destruction,” you whispered. “I wanted you.”
His lips hovered close, breath shallow.
“Then take me now. Not as I was. As I am.”
You kissed him.
And gods — it wasn’t careful.
It was raw. Desperate. Years of absence unraveling in seconds. His hands tangled in your robes, your fingers gripping his collar like he might vanish again. Magic flared around you — runes glowing in the walls, scrolls rattling on shelves.
It wasn’t just love. It was recognition.
When you pulled back, your foreheads touched, breath mingling.
“I never stopped being yours,” you whispered.
“I knew that,” he said. “I felt it. Every time I reached for magic, I felt you.”
And he kissed you again, like you were the only spell he couldn’t undo.
So,..I’ve read two different books that are elriel coded: NALINI SINGH’S Archangel’s Storm and Black Dagger Brotherhood, Lover Awakened. Books that if I’m not mistaken are one SJM’s favorites… Have you read it? It’s interesting that the both MMC are talented singers, scarred, killer and doesnt speak much. Jason, the angel who is a spymaster, shadow daddy and “hears secrets whispered in the winds” is so Azriel. Zsadist, the vampire with PTSD, similar personality as Jason. I saw a mixed of Jason and Zsadist in Azriel.
Their love interests are princess or aristocrat, very beautiful and well etiquette. Princess Mahiya, the angel (Jason’s mate), helped Jason with spying and she has puma eyes. She loves animal and can create a glowing ball of light. Bella, the vampire aristocrat that killed her kidnapper who is obsessed with her. I felt like I was reading Elriel in both books.
If SJM keeps the inspiration from Archangel’s Storm then it would make sense with the “fanged beast” on Elain’s part. I really think Elain may become a shape-shifter like faes from TOG and could create “a ball of light”, like Yrene or because of the starborn ability? (Oh btw, I was wondering if there’s a possibility that Yrene’s powers are connected to Starborn?)
Do you think Elain’s book will be more of beast themed? Something that is connected to Dusk Court… Anyway, what do you know of the first faes on Prythian? Are Starborn faes the oldest group that founded the Dusk Court, possibly migrating from the Erilea? It sounds like TOG faes are the first generation fae and they sort of evolved in Prythian and Lunathion? SJM made Lunathion connected to Prythian and Erilea. So, I’m wondering how Erilea is connected to Prythian? I know Aelin saw Rhys and Pregnant Feyre in KOA, but that’s it.
Ugh.. sorry for so many questions.. 🫣
Hi anon, and thanks for stopping by!
Disclaimer: the following is all theoretical; while I hope at least some of it will come true, we have to wait for SJM to let us know for sure.
Spoilers for the entire Maasverse, as well as parts of the Black Dagger Brotherhood series, are below.
I haven't read any Nalini Singh, though friends have recommended her to me a few times, so I really should fix that. I obviously cannot comment on any similarities - though I have heard similar rumours that SJM loves the books (but have never tried to corroborate them) - but @shitwillnotbegiven has posted a comparison of Elriel scenes with passages from 'Archangel's Storm' that is very compelling. I definitely recommend giving it a read. Of course we can't say for sure whether or not it was intentional, but yeah. There are similarities.
That being said, I have read the first five or so 'Black Dagger Brotherhood' books, and yeah. Read them for yourself of course, but there is a lot to notice. It was a couple of years ago now, so they're not fresh in my mind, but I remember being very 👀👀👀 at a lot of the similarities, especially between Zsadist, Bella and Phury with Azriel, Elain and Lucien. The lovely @silverdreamscapes has posted about many of the parallels existing between each trio, though imo it goes even further than shipping.
But first, I would like to state for the record that I do not think having an inner beast or monster makes someone bad or evil. I do think lightsingers could be a race of faeries that A) are related in some way to the shadowsingers - witches? - with whom we are all hunky dory (so no hate from me until proven otherwise), B) may in fact be facing persecution over some sort of un/intentional misunderstanding and/or rewritten history, and C) that the library actually acts as a sanctuary for these persecuted beings, in addition to any other battered women, who are both vilified and attacked for nothing but their species. Of course I could always be wrong, but I am expecting a twist that diverges from the "truth" about lightsingers that Cassian gave us in ACOSF.
But I digress. I've forgotten a lot, but I do remember that there was a character with teal eyes, who had been cursed by a goddess to carry a monster within him... if lightsingers have an inner beast* - and two of our teal-eyed priestesses have been lightsingers - you can see where I'm going (and for some fabulous rundowns on the lightsinger theory, please see posts by @silverlinedeyes and @merymoonbeam).
As I have said before, I suspect that shadowsingers and lightsingers could be more similar than we know. I wouldn't be surprised if they both have the ability to lure, and both have a beast form/some sort of inner monster or being. Because the teal-eyed character, Rhage, carries his beast in a sort of living tattoo... and whose shadows have been described as appearing like twins to the tattoos on his chest? You betcha. It's Azriel, our favourite shadowsinger.
A corner of Azriel’s mouth curled up, the shadows about him sliding over his neck like living tattoos, twins to the Illyrian ones marked beneath his leathers. Shadows different from anything my powers summoned, spoke to. Born in a lightless, airless prison meant to break him. Instead, he had learned its language. - ACOFAS, chapter 7
As for Elain's potential powers, I'm all aboard the shapeshifter train (please see @wingedblooms for some brilliant theories), and I cannot wait to see what sort of light she can wield (if any, of course, but I do think she has been tied to it in a lot of ways). Can she Sing light and dark (light) to See what she must? Or to travel someplace very far away? I also wouldn't be surprised if Elain and her light/s act as an executioner for whatever Valg-type being exists in Prythian, as Yrene did with Erawan in KOA. I suspect that the King of Hybern may have been possessed in some way, and that Elain's role in assassinating him could have purified him such that he could die, thus beginning her parallels with Yrene.
As for which Fae are the oldest, I personally suspect that the Starborn Fae did found the land that would have become the Dusk Court, and that some may have travelled to Erilea, but I haven't looked into it enough to have quotes at the ready so I'll tag in @wingedblooms and @silverlinedeyes - or anyone else who wants to join in - because they have had more thoughts on this than I have. It seems that the Starborn faeries are different to the shifter faeries from Erilea, and that both ended up in Midgard thanks to Rigelus and his machinations (but as to which is the original fae species, if any, it hasn't been explicitly stated).
Rigelus chuckled again. “We shall get to that in a moment.” He went on, “Danika realized that the shifters are Fae.” Bryce blinked. “What?” “Not your kind of Fae, of course—your breed dwelled in a lovely, verdant land, rich with magic. If it’s of any interest to you, your Starborn bloodline specifically hailed from a small isle a few miles from the mainland. And while the mainland had all manner of climes, the isle existed in beautiful, near-permanent twilight. But only a select few in the entirety of your world could shift from their humanoid forms to animal ones. The Midgard shifters were Fae from a different planet. All the Fae in that world shared their form with an animal. The mer descended from them, too. Perhaps they once shared a world with your breed of Fae, but they had been alone on their planet for long enough to develop their own gifts.” “They don’t have pointed ears.” “Oh, we bred that out of them. It was gone within a few generations.” An isle of near-permanent twilight, the home world of her breed of Fae … A land of Dusk. - HOSAB, chapter 73
A few of my friends and I - @psychologynerd, @elrieldreamer and @ladynightcourt3 - think/hope that IF we get a crossover of sorts in Elain's book it may be to Erilea, in the past. @psychologynerd has previously pointed out that a pretty faerie with raw magic (which Elain has as a Made faerie - here and here) once visited Mistward before being invited to meet Maeve in Doranelle, never to be heard from again. It's also possibly significant that Elain has been linked with owls - check out @wingedblooms Blodeuwedd and Suriel theories for starters - and Maeve had a healer trapped in owl form at her beck and call (thanks @ladynightcourt3 for your help with the quotes).
“But,” Luca chattered on, “no one here has any exciting or rare abilities. Like shape-shifting into whatever form they want, or controlling fire”—her stomach clenched at that—“or oracular sight. We did have a female wander in with raw magic two years ago—she could do anything she wanted, summon any element, and she was here a week before Maeve called her to Doranelle and we never heard from her again. A shame—she was so pretty, too. But it’s the same here as it is everywhere else: a few people with a pathetic trace of elemental powers that are really only fun for farmers.” - HOF, chapter 11
“It also explains why Aelin reported an owl at Maeve’s side when they first met,” Nesryn said, gesturing to Yrene, whose brows bunched. Then Yrene blurted, “The owl must be the Fae form of a healer. Some healer of hers that she keeps close—as a bodyguard. Has let everyone believe to be some pet …” - TOD, chapter 65
“Speak freely, Connall,” Maeve said, her faint smile remaining. The barn owl perched on the back of her throne watched with solemn, unblinking eyes. “Let your brother know these words are your own and not of my command.” - KOA, chapter 8
Some pet... as Hunt suggested he was for Bryce?
“I’m sorry,” Hunt interrupted, “but are you implying that I was made by you two assholes? As some sort of pet?” He pointed to Thanatos, then to Apollion. “Not a pet,” Apollion said darkly. “A weapon.” He nodded to Bryce. “For her, whenever she might come along.” - HOFAS, chapter 61
A weapon, just like Elain becoming "the knife in the dark" to assassinate - and potentially purify the Valg from - the King of Hybern?
I've theorised before that Elain might have plant/earth related powers - which ties in well with her reaction to the Hewn City in ACOSF, and what we learnt about Sathia/Flynn's reaction to being on Avallen in HOFAS - and many of us have long thought she may have some sort of healing magic (here and here). So was the pretty faerie Elain?
I would combust.
Anyway, I hope I answered everything, and I'm SO sorry for this response taking literal months. If you do see this, my bad.
Feyre's Power Magnitude - (Lost) Potential for Raw Magic
I don't understand why Feyre is as powerful as she is. No, I don't hate Feyre. This is more of a criticism to the world building.
She received a small kernel of power from each High Lord. Although High Lords are immensely powerful, I don't believe that a small kernel would be enough to make her "equal" to Rhysand, who is the most powerful high lord.
But SJM, and a big part of the fandom, acted almost as if she received a huge chunk from each High Lord. While the quantity she received was so small that they were willing to give it TWICE (for her and Rhysand). And believe me, no High Lord would be willing to give out much of their power, much less to Rhysand who they don't trust. Besides that, Helion and Beron noticed that something was slightly "off" after giving Feyre a kernel, but it was so insignificant that even BERON ignored it.
So instead of making her ultra powerful (which I can only justify if the power is able to somewhat grow inside her into something bigger) . It would have been interesting to make her super skillful instead. It could be a cool trope that she isn't insanely powerful, but because she has a bit of every power, she can combine it in the most creative but also lethal ways. And make people fear her, and respect her, not for her power's depth, but her power's uniqueness and unpredictability.
That would be one way of doing it. BUT, I believe something else should have happened.
I defend that instead of gaining a huge list of powers from the HLs, that their powers combined should have created a new power. That new power being Raw Magic.
SPOILER FOR BOOK 1, 2 (AND 3?) OF THRONE OF GLASS AHEAD
In Throne of Glass, Dorian has what is called Raw Magic. And his magic can be manipulated in any way, so it can "copy" all other specific manifestations of magic such as ice, shapeshifting, shadows, daemanti, etc... That is basically SORT OF what Feyre is capable of doing anyway. But wouldn't it be much cooler to give Feyre her own unique type of magic?
Other than giving Feyre raw magic. It would've made a lot of sense for Nesta to have it. As we know she took from the cauldron, and it would be logical if her magic was "everything", all types of magic and none at the same time – raw magic. But SJM had different plans for both.
Overall, I think the concept of Raw Magic is really cool and interesting, and I would've liked seeing Sarah implementing such a unique power again. (I'm in the middle of CC2 so there could be something like that in CC but I'm not yet finished).
Chapter 7 has some very Kingly moments for Dorian:
Asterin gave him a wicked grin. "Morning, Your Majesty."
"It is a king's mercy you receive," Dorian said coldly, "and I'd suggest being quiet long enough to receive it." Rarely, so rarely did Manon hear that voice from him, the tone that sent a thrill through her blood and bones. A king’s voice.
But he was not her king. He was not the coven leader of the Thirteen.
Dorian's sapphire eyes churned, the hand on his sword tightening. Manon tensed at that contemplative, cold stare. The hint of the calculating predator beneath the king's handsome face.
"A king without his crown asks for a lowly spider's name," she murmured, her depthless eyes setting on him. "You cannot pronounce it in your tongue, but you may call me Cyrene." Manon ground her teeth. "It doesn't matter what we call you, as you'll be dead soon."
But Dorian cut her a sidelong glance. "The Ruhnns are a part of my kingdom. As such, Cyrene is one of my subjects. I think that gives me the right to decide whether she lives or dies."
"You are both at the mercy of my coven,"
Manon snarled. "Step aside."
Dorian gave her a slight smile. "Am I?" A wind colder than the mountain air filled the pass.
He could kill them all. Whether by choking the air from them or snapping their necks. He could kill them all, and the wyverns included. The knowledge carved out another hollow within him. Another empty spot. Had it ever troubled his father, or Aelin, to bear such power?
Manon ignored the spider. "And when she shifts in the night to rip us apart?"
Dorian only inclined his head, ice dancing at his fingertips. "She won't."
Cyrene sucked in a breath. "A rare gift of magic." Her stare turned ravenous as she took in Dorian. "For a rare king."
Manon glanced to Asterin. Her Second's eyes were wary, her mouth a tight line. Sorrel, a few feet behind, glowered at the spider, but her hand had dropped from her sword.
The Thirteen, on some unspoken signal, peeled away to their wyverns. Only Cyrene watched them, those horrible, soulless eyes blinking every now and then as her teeth began to clack.
Manon angled her head at him. "You're … different today."
He shrugged. "If you want someone to warm your bed who cowers at your every word and obeys every command, look elsewhere."
Her stare drifted to the pale band around his throat. "I'm still not convinced, princeling," she hissed, "that I shouldn't just kill her."
"And what would it take, witchling, to convince you?"
A muscle flickered in Manon's jaw. Things from legends—that's who surrounded him. The witches, the spider ... He might as well have been a character in one of the books he'd lent Aelin last fall. Though none of them had ever endured such a yawning pit inside them.
This is a Maasverse post, and as such, there are spoilers for all Maas series. Proceed with caution.
“The point is that this is all gardening. The garden runs through our lives like a river through a field, like air in our lungs. The garden does not end in space any more than it does in time. The flowers grow as much in our minds as in the soil. There are very few nights when I do not lie in the dark, everyone else sleeping inside this dark, creaking, bony house, and go through the garden, seeing it with the clarity of a dreamer, taking it to pieces and putting it together again, mending everything in my head.” (Montagu Don, My Roots: A Decade in the Garden)
Like the threads of an intricate tapestry, Elain weaves a variety of plants together in her gardens. She creates living art, even at the worst of times:
I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” (acowar)
Feyre casually mentions that Elain is planting herbs in the town house garden after she drops some unsettling information on Cassian (which, as an aside, is one of my favorite scenes; I love it when Elain, the gentle gardener, unnerves 500-year-old fae). @offtorivendell posted a headcanon that Elain has a garden full of useful plants, which makes sense for a practical forest witch, and this quote suggests she is on the right track. We don’t hear about her herbs specifically again, but we do see glimpses of her work on the town house garden where she started planting them:
…peering out the kitchen window at the garden beyond…Elain had already readied the garden for winter, veiling the more delicate bushes and beds with burlap. (acofas)
-
Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. (acofas)
Herbs are used by witches and healers in the Maasverse for a variety of purposes, such as flavoring cuisine, enhancing divination, and healing the body. All things many of us naturally associate with Elain.
Cuisine
Manon gives us a glimpse of Crochan witches going about their domestic tasks, including cooking with dried herbs at their cauldrons:
At least two dozen other witches tended to the several fire pits scattered amongst the white tents, all of them halting their various work as Manon passed. She’d never seen Crochans going about their domestic tasks, but here they were: some tending to fires, some hauling buckets of water, some monitoring heavy cauldrons of what smelled like mountain-goat stew seasoned with dried herbs. (koa)
This image makes me think of other witches (and suspected witches) who have engaged in similar domestic tasks, such as Hypaxia offering tea to Ruhn in the medwitch clinic, or Elain carrying herbed potatoes that she helped the twins prepare near the winter solstice. In our world, traditional witchcraft is founded on a deep bond with the land; many of the holidays on the Wheel of the Year align with the agricultural year. It is no surprise then that witches in the Maasverse are also deeply connected to the bounty of the land. And even though it does not involve witches exclusively, the Great Rite in Prythian honors this bond and is performed to ensure balance between the the land and those who benefit from it. It’s very witchy.
This also helps put into perspective the gravity of Queen Rhiannon's curse on the land:
But the last Crochan queen had cast a spell to ensure that as long as Ironteeth banners flew, no bit of soil would yield life to them. (com)
“Rhiannon swore on her last breath that we would win the war, but not the land. That for what we had done, we would inherit the land only to see it wilt and die in our hands. Our beasts would shrivel and keel over dead; our witchlings would be stillborn, poisoned by the streams and rivers. Fish would rot in lakes before we could catch them. Rabbits and deer would flee across the mountains. And the once-verdant Witch Kingdom would become a wasteland. […] Every few decades, they would send groups to try to work the land, to see if the curse still held. Those groups never returned. We have been wanderers for five hundred years—the wound made worse by the fact that humans eventually took it for themselves. And the land responded to them.” (eos)
Manon’s half-sister, who is named for the last Crochan queen, has earthy eyes that are described exactly like Thesan’s, which are rich and warm like Elain’s (who I have long associated with healing light and Dawn).
The Crochan witch, her eyes the solid color of freshly tilled earth, looked up at Manon. How those eyes were so bright despite the horrors written on her body, how she didn’t collapse right there or start begging, Manon didn’t know. (hof)
Every Crochan witch also has an hearth that travels with them, and they can use it to communicate when they are scattered across the world:
Glennis jerked her chin toward the tent flaps, to the fire pit beyond. “Every Crochan family has a hearth that moves with them to each camp or home we make; the fires never extinguish. The flame in my hearth dates back to the Crochan city itself, when Brannon Galathynius gave Rhiannon a spark of eternally burning fire. My mother carried it with her in a glass globe, hidden in her cloak, when she smuggled out your ancestor, and it has continued to burn at every royal Crochan hearth since then.”
“What about when magic disappeared for ten years?”
“Our seers had a vision that it would vanish, and the flame would die. So we ignited several ordinary fires from that magic flame, and kept them burning. When magic disappeared, the flame indeed winked out. And when magic returned this spring, the flame again kindled, right in the hearth where we had last seen it.” Her great-grandmother turned toward her. “When a Crochan Queen summons her people to war, a flame is taken from the royal hearth, and passed to each hearth, one camp and village to the other. The arrival of the flame is a summons that only a true Crochan Queen may make.” (koa)
The Crochans carry hearths—the heart of family and domestic life—with them as they travel, which reminded me of Elain’s rose:
It was a fire. Not her father’s neck. Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d place on the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer.
Another log cracked, and Nesta flinched. But she remained sitting there. Staring at that carved rose. (acosf)
Nesta found Elain’s dark rose on the mantel in their old cottage, and then felt the need to place it on a mantel in the House of Wind, just above the hearth and next to a figurine of a primal goddess, likely the Mother. It moves from mantel to mantel and hearth to hearth until she places it on her father’s gravestone in the final scene of her book. This rose may be yet another hint of Elain's connection to witches, divinity, and roses, as well as the gift of healing, which I’ll get to later. Roses are associated with love and death (among many other things), and have a rich history in folklore; they are a common ingredient used in herbal magic. I could see Elain possessing her own portable hearth to accompany dried herbs from her town house garden as she sets out on various adventures. That way, no matter how far she travels, she'll always have her home with her like a lovely Crochan witch.
Divination
Some herbs are used to amplify divination or dream magic. As @offtorivendell mentioned in her post on Elain’s Sight, seers in Erilea use bloodbane (which, as a drug, may contain herbs) to see spirits from other realms, and mystics use bloodsalt to focus their search across worlds. In Midgard, the Oracle's Temple is full of incense and the sphinx breathes in the fumes that are smoldering in her chamber.
...the domed onyx building of the Oracle's Temple veiled in the mists that had rolled in over the river.
Even at midday, the Oracle's Park was near-empty, save for the hunched, slumbering forms of the desperate Vanir and humans who wandered the paths and gardens, waiting for their turn to enter the incense-filled hallways. (hoeab)
-
She blinked, wings rustling as if in surprise, but settled herself. Breathed in the fumes rising from the hole. Minutes passed, and Hunt’s head began to throb with the various scents—especially the reeking sulfur.
Smoke swirled, masking the sphinx from sight even though she sat only ten feet away. [...] A rasping voice slithered out of the smoke. “To open the doorway between worlds.” A chill seized Hunt. (hoeab)
@offtorivendell theorized that, like others gifted with Sight, Elain could use substances to amplify her powers if needed. It's possible she might be able to use herbs from her garden to pierce the veil and see clearly. She even smells like jasmine, a plant that—among many other things—induces prophetic dreams.
Healing
What can cure can also kill. (Rebecca Beyer, Wild Witchcraft)
In Midgard, we're told witches are seers, warriors, potion-makers, and healers. Healers, also known as medwitches, are the most visible and they have their own herb gardens. Their healing magic is even more powerful than the fae.
They were a strange, unique group, the witches. Though they looked like humans, their considerable magic and long lives marked them as Vanir, their power mostly passed through the female line. All of them deemed civitas. The power was inherited, from some ancient source that the witches claimed was a three-faced goddess, but witches did pop up in non-magical families every now and then. Their gifts were varied, from seers to warriors to potion-makers, but healers were the most visible in Crescent City. Their schooling was thorough and long enough that the young witch before him was unusual. She had to be skilled to be already working in a clinic when she couldn’t have been a day over thirty.
[…]
She gestured to the hall behind her, where sunlight leaked in through a glass door at its other end. “We have a courtyard garden. The day is fine enough that you could wait out there.”
[…]
Ruhn followed her down the hall, trying not to breathe in her eucalyptus-and-lavender scent too deeply.
Don’t be a fucking creep.
The sunlight tangled in her thick night-dark hair as she reached the courtyard door and shouldered it open, revealing a slate-covered patio surrounded by terraced herb gardens. The day was indeed lovely, the river breeze making the plants rustle and sway, spreading their soothing fragrances. (hoeab)
We now know this graceful healer is the Witch Queen, Hypaxia. Elain seems to share parallels with Hypaxia and her half-sister, the Hind (and her story about the forest witch). Hypaxia smells like plants that are used for healing and shows Ruhn out to their courtyard herb garden. Like the witches, Elain is gifted magic from an ancient source (the Cauldron, which is also part of a magical trio: Mother, Cauldron, Fate) and plants her own herbs in a courtyard garden. She smells of jasmine and honey, which have medicinal properties: one is used to improve sleep and the other is used to treat burns.
The wise and peaceful medwitches in Midgard remind me of Crochan witches in Erilea, who were scattered to the winds and used healing to hide their heritage:
They were still out there, the self-righteous, insufferable Crochans, hiding as healers and wise-women. (hof)
We also witness extensive healing magic from humans blessed by Silba in Antica, and as I mentioned in forbidden secrets, they seem to share some pointed parallels with Elain as well.
It was broad, more of a keep than anything, but still rounded. Buildings flanked its sides, connected on lower levels. All enclosed by towering white walls, the iron gates—fashioned to look like an owl spreading its wings—thrown wide to reveal lavender bushes and flower beds lining the sand-colored gravel walkways. Not flower beds. Herb beds. (tod)
We learn that Maeve surrounded herself with healers because of the threat they pose to the Valg, and in the scene below, a Valg princess calls the healers Maeve's secret army:
“Why do you think Maeve has hoarded her healers, never allowing them to leave her patrolled borders? She knew we would return. She wanted to be ready—to protect herself. Her prized favorites, those Doranelle healers. Her secret army.” Duva hummed, motioning with the dagger to the necropolis. “How clever those Fae were, who escaped her clutches after the last war. They ran all the way here—the healers who knew their queen would keep them penned up like animals. And then they bred the magic into the land, into its people. Encouraged the right powers to rise up, to ensure this land would always be strong, defended. And then they vanished, taking their treasures and histories beneath the earth. Ensuring they were forgotten below, while their little garden was planted above.” (tod)
The fae healers bred magic into the land, into its people…then they vanished beneath the earth…forgotten…while their little garden was planted above. THEIR LITTLE GARDEN?! I've wondered elsewhere if Elain might heal the land, but what if, like Doranelle healers, Elain is weaving magic into the ground because of something she has Seen? What if she is endlessly toiling in her little gardens not just to restore life, but to cultivate the right magic to rise up and bloom, in defense of her family and the realm?
@offtorivendell has theorized that Elain might weaponize plants, like Ents, which would be so much fun to read. I would love to see her use (or sing to) living things around her, as @silverlinedeyes theorized, to uncover secrets and protect others (like a forest witch would). There are so many possibilities for how gardening will come into play in her story. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to see her little gardens become secret weapons that are critical for the future. At the very least, we know that it has a symbolic purpose, as the quote I started this post with suggests: it is the lens through which we see Elain's evolution and role. Feyre starts the series believing this about her sister:
It wasn’t meanness that kept her from offering to help; it simply never occurred to her that she might be capable of getting her hands dirty. (acotar)
Then she sees her sister come alive in her garden, where she is able to exert control and create beautiful art with blooms. Her joy is infectious.
The little garden beneath the window was hers: every bloom and shrub had been picked and planted by her hand; she would allow no one else to care for it. Even the weeding and watering she did on her own. (acotar)
And we also see the moment when Feyre’s perspective shifts, and she begins to wonder if Elain prefers to get her hands dirty; if it's proof of her work.
“Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy. (acofas)
We’re then reminded of this evolution in the Feysand bonus chapter:
I glowered at Rhys. “You think Elain’s boring?”
“I think she’s kind, and I’ll take kindness over nastiness any day. But I also think we haven’t yet seen all she has to offer.” A corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.”
“And torn up by thorns,” I mused, recalling a morning this past summer when Elain had come into the house, her right palm bleeding from several gashes thanks to a stubborn rosebush that had pierced her gloves. The thorns had broken off in her skin, leaving sharp splinters that I’d had to pull free. (feysand bonus)
It’s interesting that Feysand discuss Elain’s hands in their bonus chapter: gardeners often get their hands dirty for a pretty result (living art). And then, in Azriel's bonus, he thinks about how Elain couldn't possibly know how his hands have been sullied far beyond their scars (by his deadly art). Sully is a synonym for soil, which means to make dirty. Soil is often used to describe the upper layer of the earth where plants grow, bringing us full circle.
Sarah could run with this hand imagery in a few different ways, but it reminds me of someone else in another world who also bloodies their hand on a rosebush…
Dorian held up his bloodied hand. “Thornbush.” Rosebush made his cuts seem that much more pathetic.
“The hand is—very complex,” she murmured at last, studying the cuts. “I just wanted to make sure that nothing was damaged and that there weren’t any thorns lodged in there.” She swiftly added, “Your Highness.” (com)
Why do I keep coming back to Dorian? Although he is heavily involved with the witches in tog, he is not a witch. So what is he doing here? It will lead back to healers and witches so stay with me. Dorian evolves over the series and becomes a force to be reckoned with; his raw magic allows him to learn other types of magic, including how to shift and wield magical hands.
His hands trembled—and not just with fear. No, there was some force still running through him, begging him to unleash it again, to open himself up … Dorian crammed the last book back onto the shelf and took off at a run. He could tell no one. Trust no one. (com)
-
Chaol stared at Dorian in mute horror as his friend’s eyes glowed a deep, raging blue, and the prince snarled at the king, “Don’t you touch him.” The ice spread across the room, up the legs of the shocked guards, freezing over Sorscha’s blood, and Dorian got to his feet. He raised both hands, and light shimmered along his fingers, a cold breeze whipping through his hair. (com)
Anyone else think Dorian’s snarl sounds a lot like Elain’s snarled don’t touch my sister? Yeah, me too. In Seed of power, I wondered if Elain possessed raw magic like Dorian, and before I’m accused of giving her excessive powers, I think this might be the case for all three witchy sisters. They are blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match Rhysand whose power is described as raw. When Rhysand uses Feyre as a conduit in acowar, her magic comes out as raw, brutal power to weld the Cauldron back together. It reminds me of this:
"Once, the High Fae were more elemental, more given to reading the stars and crafting masterpieces of art and jewelry and weaponry. Their gifts were rawer, more connected to nature, and they could imbue objects with that power." (acosf)
Feyre welded the Cauldron and Nesta hammered swords, creating her own trove of nightmares. Elain will likely craft something with her magic as well, and it may be the other side of the coin to Nesta's nightmares: a trove of dreams. It could be witch mirrors hidden in ordinary jewelry, or even herbs with the power to heal and kill, if she can weaponize plants.
Now back to Dorian and the reason I mentioned him in the first place. He uses phantom hands, as @ladynightcourt3 has pointed out before:
Then those claws were pinned in the wood beneath phantom hands as Dorian sauntered over, face so unyieldingly unmoved. The Bloodhound thrashed, those claws trying to wrench free— The creature screamed as those invisible hands crunched down on bone. Then through it. […] It was not flame or wind that snapped the Bloodhound’s neck. But invisible hands. (eos)
Interesting. This reminds me of another phantom hand, albeit a bit gentler:
And as it faded, dark ink splashed upon Nesta’s back, visible through her half-shredded shirt, as if it were a wave crashing upon the shore. A bargain. With the Cauldron itself. Yet Cassian could have sworn a luminescent, gentle hand prevented the light from leaving her body altogether. (acosf)
This gentle, glowing hand intervenes on Nesta’s behalf, and it seems to be connected to the wise, soft voice.
A soft, familiar voice whispered the words. As they had been whispered to her long ago. As it had warned her in Oorid’s darkness. A lovely, kind female voice, sage and warm, which had been waiting for her all this time. (acosf)
This gentle hand and voice also seem like the Other Yrene bargains with in an important healing. The Other is most likely Silba, the goddess of healers and bringer of peace and gentle deaths, in Erilea. The one who is associated with owls and purple and healing magic.
A woman’s voice that was both familiar and foreign. A voice that was both Hafiza’s and … another. Someone who was not human, never had been. Speaking through Hafiza herself, their voices blending into the blackness.
[…]
A daughter of Fenharrow will pay the debt of a son of Adarlan?
Yes.
She could have sworn a gentle, warm hand brushed her face.
[…]
The Other said, You offer this of your own free will?
Yes. With my entire heart.
It had been his from the start, anyway. Those loving, phantom hands brushed her cheek again and faded away.
[…]
The Other said, I chose well. You shall pay the debt, Yrene Towers. And I hope you shall see it for what it truly is.
Yrene tried to speak. But light flared, soft and soothing. (tod)
The Other is not named, but it says it chose well and we know that Yrene was blessed with powers by Silba, so it seems likely that this is Silba’s voice. Interestingly, one of the healers also mentions Death:
Before Yrene could answer, Chaol demanded, “What cost?”
A stillness crept over them, and even Yrene looked to Hafiza as the woman extracted herself from Eretia’s care. The Healer on High said quietly, “The damage was too great. Even with all of us…Death held you by the hand.” (tod)
This scene shares so many parallels with the Feysand rescue; it is a powerful healing with a high cost. We learn through Yrene that healers can sense when death is near, which is one of their less savory abilities. Death lurks near Feyre before Nesta uses the Trove, and that is when an otherworldly being looks out from her eyes. The Feysand healing would have taken place after the gods were banished from Erilea, and we did not actually witness their deaths. Is it possible the Mother is connected to Silba?
There is also a place beneath the Torre called Silba’s Womb where healers soak in natural spring waters in the form of dozens of tubs. The darkness Yrene senses in this underground cavern is connected to creation, rest and unformed thought, reminding me of Elain’s iron mental gates that are covered with sleeping buds, leaves, and thorns. This sleeping garden could be a hint for a dormant power like Dorian’s; when his sleeping power is awoken, it is described as something ancient and slumbering deep inside of him, and it opens an eye.
And the darkness above her … it was different from what she had spied in Lord Westfall’s body. The opposite of that blackness. The darkness above her was that of creation, of rest, of unformed thought. Yrene stared into it, into the womb of Silba herself. And could have sworn she felt something staring back. Listening, while she thought through all Lord Westfall had told her. (tod)
Silba’s dark womb of creation is also eerily similar to the dark womb that Nesta senses in the depths of the library:
There was night, and there was the darkness of extinguishing a candle, and then there was this. Not only the true absence of light, but … a womb. The womb from which all life had come and would return, neither good nor evil, only dark, dark, dark. […] Her name drifted to her as if rising from the depths of some black ocean. […] The darkness pulsed, beckoning. (acosf)
The healing magic we see in tog reminds me quite a bit of the Cauldron, which is that dark womb Nesta mentioned. Healing light not only weaves things together, but devours darkness:
More of the world faded away.
I am not afraid of you, Yrene said into the dark. And you have nowhere to run.
Duva thrashed, trying to unseat Yrene's grip. Yrene pressed down harder on her chest.
Time slowed and bent. She was dimly aware of the ache in her knees, the cramp in her back. Dimly aware of Sartaq and Kashin refusing to offer their position to someone else.
Still Irene sent her magic flowing into Diva. Filling her with that devouring light.
[...]
"Utterly pathetic," Yrene repeated, her magic rallying behind her in a mighty, cresting white wave. "For a prince to prey on a helpless woman."
The demon scrambled back against the wave, clawing at the dark as if it would tunnel through Duva.
Yrene pushed forward. Let her wave fall.
Yrene's tidal wave of light devours the dark of the Valg like the thread of Hope piercing the Void. The language is similar to the wave imagery of the Cauldron and Elain’s white void when she is overcome by despair and strange new powers. If her void is not the typical dark nothingness but white, could her healing power be opalescent light that devours the darkness? As bright as the sunstone palace of Dawn that holds the light of a thousand suns, piercing the shadows of night each morning?
If Silba and the Mother are connected (one and the same, or part of the same consciousness of formless, higher beings), could Elain—a seer with theoretical raw magic that can heal and destroy and everything in between—act as their watchful guardian, an otherworldly bird of prey?
Even though it perched atop a gnarled branch of iron that flowed across the door itself, wings flared wide as it prepared to leap into the skies, it seemed … alert. Aware of all who passed that door, who perhaps gazed too long in the direction of the workshop. (tod)
Perhaps time and space also work differently for her, as they do for the Ancients.
Next: The Ancients, or Elain’s connection to ancient witches.
