#a court of silver flames
For my fellow Taylor Swift and Sarah J. Maas fans. Since it’s A Court of Silver Flames eve, here’s a thread of Taylor Swift lyrics that fit ACOTAR characters and ships.
Feyre Archeron / The Archer: I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost, The room is on fire, invisible smoke, And all of my heroes die all alone, Help me hold onto you
Rhysand / Peace: I never had the courage of my convictions, As long as danger is near, And it’s just around the corner, darling, ‘Cause it lives in me, No, I could never give you peace
Starfall Feysand / Enchanted: This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go, I’m wonder struck, blushing all the way home, I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you
Feyre and Tamlin / exile: I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind), I couldn’t turn things around (you never turned things around), 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
The ACOMAF wedding scene / Speak Now: Don’t say yes, run away now, I’ll meet you when you’re out of the church at the back door, Don’t wait, or say a single vow, You need to hear me out, And they said speak now
Nesta Archeron / The Man: And I’m so sick of them coming at me again, 'Cause if I was a man, then I’d be the man
Elain Archeron / Breathe: And we know it’s never simple, never easy, Never a clean break, no one here to save me
Cassian / State of Grace: And I never saw you coming, And I’ll never be the same, You come around and the armor falls, Pierce the room like a cannon ball, Now all we know, is don’t let go
Nessian / Treacherous: And I’d be smart to walk away, But you’re quicksand, This slope is treacherous, This path is reckless, This slope is treacherous, And I-I-I like it
Azriel / Beautiful Ghosts: So I watch from the dark, wait for my life to start, With no beauty in my memory
Mor / ME!: I promise that you’ll never find another like ME!, I’m the only one of me, Baby, that’s the fun of me
Amren / Ready for It?: Knew I was a robber first time that he saw me, Stealing hearts and running off and never sayin’ sorry, But if I’m a thief, then he can join the heist
Lucien / I Know Places: They are the hunters, we are the foxes and we run, Baby, I know places we won’t be found, And they’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down, 'Cause I, I know places we can hide
Elriel / gold rush: 'Cause I don’t like a gold rush, gold rush, I don’t like anticipatin’ my face in a red flush
Elucien / invisible string: And isn’t it just so pretty to think, All along there was some Invisible string, Tying you to me?
@taylorswift@taylornation@worldofsarahjmaas@bloomsburybooks-blog-blog
Part 2 of my Valentine’s post
Valentine’s Day is just a capitalist scam that monetizes people’s need to show love BUT HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO THEM<3
Valentine’s Day is just a capitalist scam that monetizes people’s need to show love BUT HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO THEM<3
Valentine’s Day is just a capitalist scam that monetizes people’s need to show love BUT HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO THEM<3
Valentine’s Day is just a capitalist scam that monetizes people’s need to show love BUT HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO THEM<3
Valentine’s Day is just a capitalist scam that monetizes people’s need to show love BUT HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO THEM<3
Valentine’s Day is just a capitalist scam that monetizes people’s need to show love BUT HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO THEM<3
Valentine’s Day is just a capitalist scam that monetizes people’s need to show love BUT HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO THEM<3
Valentine’s Day is just a capitalist scam that monetizes people’s need to show love BUT HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO THEM<3
Valentine’s Day is just a capitalist scam that monetizes people’s need to show love BUT HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO THEM<3
Valentine’s Day is just a capitalist scam that monetizes people’s need to show love BUT HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO THEM<3
Rereading ‘A court of thorns and roses’ after a year for research related purposes- part 1
Feyre was in her flop era babes
WAIT WHY DO I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO RECOLLECTION OF THIS CHARACTER HE’S NEVER MENTIONED AGAIN
Feyre so humble and selfless you guys she’s not like other girls frrr
Omg it’s almost like- like the wolf and the doe are a METAPHOR for the power dynamic between Feyre and Tamlin
GROWL??? RHYSAND IS THAT YOU??
Elain’s literally so annoying like honeybear why don’t you grow some vegetables or something
okay *Tamlin shows up*
This bargain makes no sense to me like i know there’s some bigger stuff going on but this is the equivalent of “you killed my bestie? well now you have to suffer living with me☺”
PROTECT NESTA AAAHHHH
Lucien was actually my favorite character in the first book he’s the only one with a personality
How to get the girl 101 with Tamlin
Ayyo how are we all forgetting the women’s rights movement of 2021 when our feminist icon rhysand chose not to tell his very pregnant wife that the birth would 100% kill her
He pretty much went around battling misogyny with his mountain shaking roars y'all could never-
so basically
so i finally got a court of silver flames today… don’t talk to me for about 2-3 business days
So excited!!!
Currently; Elain is 52% and Gwyn 48%
Vote for your ship!
*UPDATE
Hmm… when I went to bed last night Elain and Gwyn were tied.
Now with less than 20 minutes to go I find out Eriel shippers spammed the tweet with hashtags adding celebrities names for votes.
Thanks for spoiling. You could have just left it tied.
A Second Starfall
Feyre
I know it’s A Court of Silver Flames but everytime I see ACOSF I read A Court of Star Fall.
Currently rereading every single Sarah j Maas book so I’m refreshed and caught up entirely when I finally read A Court of Silver Flames
The only difference between teen fiction and adult fiction is the age of of the characters and how much sex they have. Prove me wrong.
Just pure, undiluted fluff.
Nesta woke to an empty bed.
Confused, she patted the sheets beside her to find them still warm, as if he’d only just risen. It was hardly dawn, but she supposed it wasn’t abnormal for him to be up this early.
Her sleepy eyes trailed away from the abandoned sheets to the light coming from beneath the bathroom door, where she could hear the sounds of a bath beginning to fill. She slid out of bed, padding on bare feet to the door.
Cassian was washing his face in the sink when she came in, squinting against the lamp light. He smiled at her in the slightly fogged mirror. “Good morning, my love. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She scrubbed her eyes. “What are you… why are you up?”
“I’m just gonna take a bath before heading into Illyria. They need me to speak to some of the camp lords.”
She grumbled and shuffled closer to wrap her arms around him from behind. “‘Ts cold.”
He ran loving hands up and down her forearms as she rested her head between his wings. “You can go back to bed, my love. I’ll be back later today.”
She let out a low whine and squeezed him tighter.
“Nesta,” he sighed, unwrapping her from him so he could turn around. “Do you want me to tuck you in?”
She deposited her face in his chest. “Mmm, no.”
“Well, I have to take a bath, so you can either get dressed or go get some more sleep. Aren’t you helping with the young Valkaries today?”
She whined louder.
“Alright.” Cassian bent down to pick her up by her thighs and she hooked her feet behind his back.
Burying her face in his neck, she began to grumble again when he made his way back into the bedroom.
“What?” he asked, exasperated.
Her hands lifted to tug at his hair. “Bath,” she mumbled.
“You don’t have to be ready for a few more hours, my love. You can take your bath later.”
“Noooo.”
“You’re just gonna fall asleep in the tub.”
“Nooooooo.”
He sighed once more before turning to set her on the bathroom counter. “Alright, but no funny business or I’m gonna be late.”
Nesta lifted her arms in signal for him to take off her sweater.
He peeled it off of her effortlessly before discarding his own night clothes and ridding her of the rest of hers.
The bath was thankfully big enough for them both as well as a pair of Illyrian wings. Nesta sighed in content when he set her in the water, blissfully hot. She tugged him insistently down in front of her so she could cling to his back once more.
He huffed but resigned himself to the treatment as he went about washing himself. Nesta laid her head on his shoulder, content to watch until his hands lifted to his hair.
She hissed, wriggling away from him. “Nooo. Let me.”
He looked over his shoulder at her to deliver a single brow raise. “You want to wash my hair?”
She nodded, moving to sit on the far bench. “Pretty hair.”
“Has anyone ever told you how articulate you are in the mornings?”
Her half-lidded eyes lifted to an almost-glare.
He laughed softly, but leaned into her arms.
She grabbed the pitcher beside the tub, filling it with water to pour over his head until his hair was as soaked as the rest of him. Then she lathered it with shampoo, her long fingers massaging his scalp.
Cassian let out an animal-like purr as he closed his eyes, his wings going limp inside the water. “Mmm. Fuck. So good.”
“Very articulate,” Nesta mumbled as her hands worked the soap in. Once he had almost fully melted, she rinsed it from his hair before reaching for the conditioner.
He turned onto his stomach as she did so, water sloshing over the sides of the tub. She didn’t mind, though. Not as his brow leaned against her sternum, his arms wrapping around her. He hummed while she worked the conditioner in, nuzzling into her.
She rinsed that too, his hair going silken in her grasp, and grabbed the rag he’d abandoned, filling it with soap. She scrubbed at his shoulders and upper back, down the column of his spine as far as she could reach. When she made to start on his wings, however, he lifted his head to glare at her.
“I said no funny business.”
Nesta pouted but resigned herself to rinsing the rest of the soap from his body. When she was done, he rose and lifted her with him, both of them dripping wet.
“Will you go back to bed now?” Cassian asked as he wrapped her in a fluffy towel and set her on the edge of their bed.
She shook her head, watching him in growing appreciation as he dried himself.
He huffed, grabbing his hair brush from the vanity.
Nesta snatched it from him, arching a brow when he tried to contradict her. “Sit,” she ordered, pointing to the space between her legs on the floor.
He plopped down at her feet and her legs swung carefully over his shoulders and wings to keep him in place. As she brushed through the dripping tangles of his hair, he massaged her calves, occasionally turning his head to kiss her knee.
“Stay still,” she said as she set the brush aside.
His hands paused when he felt her beginning to part his hair. “What are you doing?”
She didn’t answer and he didn’t push, instead surrendering himself once more to her ministrations.
Ten minutes later, she was done, finally allowing him to rise. He went to the vanity mirror to find four braids neatly worked along the left side of his head, stopping just above his ear. His smile was the one reserved only for her as he turned back. “Thank you, my love.”
She gave him a similar smile in return, if a little more sleepy, and let out a yawn, lifting her arms. He obeyed the unspoken command, moving her further onto the bed so she could lay properly on the pillows. “I’m going to cancel your training today,” Cassian said, working the towel out from under her.
Her eyelids fluttered. “Why?”
He tucked the comforter into her sides with expert care. “Because I want you just like this when I get home.”
She didn’t have the energy to fight, instead snuggled into his pillow. “‘Kay.”
He pressed a kiss to her brow, but she had already drifted off. “I love you.”
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Author’s note: Hello, I’m back. My computer broke there for a while, but I was finally able to buy and new one and actually sit my ass in the chair to write. Anyway, this is like wholly unedited because I really wanted to just get it out there and posted because a few people have been asking if this series was going to continue. Enjoy!
For the first time in a long while, Nesta was cold. She stood on the beach wrapped in a flimsy shirt, listening for the sound of footsteps on the sand behind her. There weren’t any for a long while. Just this silence.
She took a moment to breathe and smelled dead fish.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” a voice came from behind her.
She didn’t turn, the wind ruffling her hair. “What do you need me to do?”
“Show me your siren form.”
At that, she looked over her shoulder. Hybern stood a few paces back, a woman to his left and a man holding a camera box. The carriage loomed behind them, horses nickering. Nesta tensed. “My face won’t be in any of the photos.”
“Of course, my dear. They will simply be for record keeping.” He showed his hands, palms up in a placating gesture.
He was lying. She knew photographs were expensive, but they were impossible to fake. No one would waste that kind of money if they didn’t expect profit.
She took a step back towards the sea. “Tell me what you plan to do first.”
“I have done my research on the mythologies. I have scoured the sea for your kind for decades and the people thought I was crazy. Now, I will have my proof.” He stepped towards her and she stepped back again, feeling the sea begin to lap at her heels.
“I will let you photograph me and nothing more.”
“That isn’t what we agreed to.”
He was right. They’d agreed to an experiment.
“I want scale and blood samples.” Hybern waved the man on his right forward. What she had thought held a camera, was actually simply a normal box. The man set it on the ground and lifted a syringe from it.
Nesta swallowed hard.
“What are you waiting for, my dear? You need to shift. We have an agreement.”
“Why did you let me think you had a camera?” It wasn’t even the right lighting for photographs. How could she have missed that?
“I do have a camera. We will take photos later.” Hybern spoke quietly with the other man for a moment before lifting his head. “Do you have gills? Where are they on your body?”
“No.”
“Really? How do you breathe, then?” He was moving closer, the other man coming in from the other side, as if they were trying to trap her against the sea.
“No. I will be breaking our agreement.” She was up to her ankles now in the surf, the sea waiting like a predator behind her.
Hybern laughed. “Oh, my dear. You don’t have a choice. If you will not come willingly, then I have other forms of persuasion.”
“There is nothing you can do to keep me.”
He sighed. “I really didn’t want it to come to this, but we had a deal and now you leave me no choice.” He snapped his fingers and the woman approached with a net. It was one of the large, sturdy ones, made for heavy extreme amounts of fish from the sea.
Nesta moved without thought, her body turning into a dive as her fin replaced her legs.
She screamed as Hybern slammed a knife through the end of her tail, pinning her in place. Her hands scrambled on the rocks while she felt another pair of hands on her, pulling at her golden scales.
“Where’s that damned syringe?” Hybern snapped. “Hurry up. Both of you.”
Nesta shrieked again when the net collapsed on top of her, the holes too small to fit her hands through. Her voice echoed across the beach as she was pulled out of the water. The waves chased her, spindly cold fingers grasping her skin, letting her slide easily over the smooth rocks.
She kicked out her tail, ignoring the spike of blinding pain in search of a way out of the net. Through its metal fibers, she could see the man Hybern had brought with him, carrying that syringe.
As he approached in quick, purposeful steps, she realized that it wasn’t empty. There was already liquid inside–likely a sleeping agent or something to weaken her.
No. If they got her to a separate location, she would be dead.
In her panic, she shifted back and forth between her forms, but found the pain to be worse as a human, drawing her back into her scales. She was crying as the man knelt beside the net and wondered what Cassian would think if he saw her right now.
Pathetic. His mighty siren reduced to a blubbering mess.
His siren.
Hybern’s man grinned a slimy grin. “Thomas sends his regards.”
She had made a vow when Cassian gave her his heart. A vow that had gone unbroken, her lips sealed shut against the song that threatened to pour out.
The man lifted the syringe.
She would break that vow.
The man froze in time as the notes started quietly, barely a whisper, but just loud enough to be heard over the crashing of the waves. His eyes widened, becoming glazed as the syringe slipped from his fingers.
The rocks crunched as Hybern yelled, “Plug your ears!” but it was too late.
“Will you give me your heart?” Nesta asked the man.
“Yes. Gods yes.”
“Take off the net.”
“No!” Hybern was still shouting and Nesta’s gaze snapped to him as the net lifted. His fingers were in his ears like a child refusing to listen, but Nesta could see the struggle. See his eyes roll back, then widen.The woman he’d brought was on her knees, crawling across the beach to Nesta.
“Grab the knife,” Nesta told her.
She scrabbled for where it had fallen, still sticky with seafoam. Hybern lunged at her, but his knees collapsed underneath him as another voice joined the song.
Nesta didn’t turn, not ready to see the other siren ready to drag her back to her watery grave. They would let her do this, at least. Let her deliver her hearts.
“Cut out his heart,” Nesta ordered the girl and in an instant she was on top of the other man, the knife sinking into his chest with animalistic fury. Nesta turned her face away to watch Hybern, who was clutching his head now.
When the girl finished, she returned to Nesta like an obedient dog, her blue eyes wide as saucers.
Nesta lifted her chin between thumb and forefinger. “And your heart? Can I have that one too?”
The girl nodded, knife turning in her hand. It sank with expert precision into the skin above her breast. She stared at Nesta with a pain-free expression, however, as she carved the center of her chest out, her body becoming weaker with every movement until she was dead.
Nesta took the knife from her and shifted into her human form, limping over to Hybern.
“I won’t give it to you,” he hissed into the remaining silence. She hadn’t even noticed the other siren stop singing. “You can’t have it.”
“I don’t want your heart,” Nesta said simply, and drove the knife into his neck.
His eyes widened, a gurgling sound coming from his lips as his hands reached up to scrabble at hers while she twisted the knife over and over again.
It was two passes before his head fell from his shoulders.
Nesta watched it roll across the beach.
Slow clapping came from behind her. She turned, chin raised and palms bloody. She’d kill a siren too. Whatever got in her way.
Amren had perched herself on a boulder, her tail as blunt and short as a sharks. “I thought I would come help. Well done.”
“You—”
She held up a hand, her nails catching the moonlight. “I’m not going to hurt you, dear girl, but we need to move and quickly. Every siren in a twenty-mile radius likely heard your shrieking.”
“What?”
“Why are you still standing there like a fool? Shift and lets go. Plans have moved up. We’re leaving tonight.”
*****
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A short story about Cassian and Rhys meeting
Mother’s brow was creased in that way it always did when she was worried. She gripped my hand, tugging me through the endless halls, surprisingly quick despite her growing belly.
We stopped outside of Father’s study and she turned to me, brushing off the shoulders of my new leather jacket she’d insisted I wear.
“Mama, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head, taking my hand again, and leading me into Father’s study.
Father rose from his desk, pressing a kiss to Mother’s furrowed brow, then bending to press another to her belly. “Is there a reason for this interruption, my love? Have you settled on a punishment?”
I cringed. A week ago, Mother had caught me and Mor sliding down the oiled ramps of the library, bringing scholars and priestesses tumbling after us. My parents still hadn’t decided on a good punishment.
Mother fluttered a hand. “That doesn’t matter. I’m taking Rhysand, now.”
Father arched a groomed brow. “What do you mean?”
“He’s coming with me to the Illyian camp. I want him to learn of my people.”
“And when was this decided?”
“I decided it. Our belongings are already there.”
“Who said you could go?”
“I am the Lady of the Night Court. I don’t have to answer to anyone.”
I could almost see Father’s temper start to rise. He had been in a good mood until the word Illyrian slipped from Mother’s mouth. “You have to answer to me. You are no High Lady.”
“I am your mate and I will be doing what’s best for our child.” Her hand tightened around mine. “We’ll be leaving now. You are free to visit.”
“Ellie–”
She set me on her hip, marching to the large window in the back of the study.
Father started shouting, “Don’t you take one more step. Ellisya–”
She took off in a gust of wind.
The last thing I saw was Father, raking his hands through his hair, his desk thrown on its side.
*****
“Why is it so muddy?” I asked Mother as we strode towards the camp, kicking the squelching dirt beneath my new boots. Everything I wore today was new–boots, leather pants, and a jacket to go with it.
“Because when the snow melts, it wets the dirt.” She stopped so suddenly I almost slipped. Just outside of the line of tents and buildings, she knelt in front of me.
“Mama, you’ll get the mud on your knees–”
“Hush, Rhysand, I need you to listen to me very closely.” She combed my hair with her fingers. “You will go into this camp and you will train as the other boys your age do. You’re not special here. You will get spat on, beaten, and dirtied and you will learn. I will not be able to help you.” She cupped my face in her hands as I felt myself tensing. “I will be in the biggest house on the south side. Find me once you’re done.” With that, she stood, looking down at me. “Summon your wings.”
“But, Mama–”
“Summon your wings, Rhysand.”
My lip wobbled at the harshness of her tone but I did as she said.
She let go of me completely. “Wipe your tears away and hurry along. I’ll have supper ready when you get back.”
I indeed wiped at my eyes, taking in a shaky breath. Mother didn’t say anything else as I turned away.
I hoped my face was clean when I strode into the camp. There, a tall man found me, his greying beard doing nothing to make him look friendlier. He stared down his crooked nose at me. “What’s your name, soldier?”
I had never been called soldier before. “Rhysand.”
His thin lips nearly disappeared. “And why aren’t you with the other boys, Rhysand?”
“I–”
“Go before I give you the lashing you deserve.”
I scrambled away, running towards where I saw a few boys around my age.
They were on some sort of lunch break, chatting noisily with each other. I hovered between two tables, looking for possibly someone to sit with.
A hand tapped my shoulder.
I turned and the first thing I saw was the grin that could cut steel. The boy looked no different than all the others except for that and the feral thing that danced in his hazel eyes.
“You’re new,” he said, eyeing me.
I shifted on my feet, not enjoying the way he was looking at me. “So?”
“I challenge you.”
“Pardon me?”
“I challenge you to a fight. If I win, I get those fancy clothes.”
“I don’t want to fight.”
“Oh, don’t be a bore.”
I frowned, but my father had taught me never to back down from a challenge. “What about if I win? What do I get?”
The boy winked. “All the riches in the world.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I know. Come on.”
We squared off in one of the rings for the older boys. I set my feet as I assumed was right, but the boy’s were in a different position. In fact, they were lifting from the ground and–
He slammed his fist into my jaw. Pain, like I’d never felt before, shattered through my skull as I collapsed. I barely registered the other blows the boy rained, barely reminded myself to put my hands up.
The world went black for a moment but a swift punch to my ribs had me back up again. My face was wet. I didn’t know if I was sobbing, or if it was blood.
Then, as swiftly as it began, it was over, one of the warriors yanking the boy off of me. I blinked the black spots from my vision as I, too, was hauled to my feet.
“What the hell did I say about fighting?” shouted the man that had called me soldier.
“Devlon–” the boy started to say but he had no pity.
“Ten lashes, each of you. To the posts, now!”
I stumbled after the boy as he sulked over to a large wooden post. I stood awkwardly next to him, not quite sure what was going on.
“What are you staring at?” he snapped. “Go to your post.”
I saw then the twin post beside his and went to it, looking at the warriors who had gathered with frowning faces.
“Take off your shirt and jacket,” one of them said.
The boy beside me already moved to the task but I hesitated. “What?”
“Did I stutter, boy? Take ‘em off.”
I obeyed, finally understanding when a warrior grabbed my wrists, yanking them to hug the pole.
They were going to whip us.
“Wait!” I shouted. “Wait, no! You can’t do this!”
“And why not?” Devlon purred, walking around the post so I could see him.
Beside me, I heard the boy scream in pain. “Because I’m Rhysand! My father is the High Lord!”
Devlon laughed, a deep, cruel sound. “You think that matters here, boy? You are nothing but a halfbreed.”
I screamed at the first strike of the whip.
*****
Mother tended to the wounds on my back while I cried.
“I don’t wanna go back, Mama,” I sobbed. “I want to go home.”
“I know, my love. Today was bad, but it will get easier.”
My face, luckily, had mostly healed on its own. Mother hadn’t liked it one bit when I told her about the boy, but I never did get to give him my clothes.
Mother made dinner for us, or rather, it appeared on the table. I shovelled the food eagerly into my mouth but when I reached for seconds, Mother slapped my hand away. “You’ve had enough. Go get your books.”
I grumbled, sliding out of the chair to fetch them. I joined her by the window, the camp bustling below us. I was just about to start reading aloud to her when something outside caught my eye.
The boy who’d beaten me was trudging through the snow to a line of shabby tents.
“What is he doing?” I asked Mother.
She shrugged. “Bastards are given nothing. They are to find their own food and their own shelter. If he ever gets to the war bands, he’ll have those but he’ll be bottom ranking forever. Until then, he’ll stay out in the cold.”
Unease settled in my stomach but I stayed quiet. I went through my lesson with Mother until we’d finished the chapter. She tucked me into bed, pressing a kiss to my brow before slipping out.
I tossed and turned for what could have been hours. I had food; I had shelter. I’d never grow hungry or cold. Comfort sat at the edge of my fingertips and yet that boy didn’t have a glimpse of it.
Before I could consider the consequences, I slipped out of bed, tugging on my breeches. Then I levered open the window and dropped into the mud. I found the tent I’d watched the boy wonder into, teeth chattering.
The boy was awake with a dagger in hand when I flung open the flap. “Come on,” I whispered, rubbing my arms. “You’re going to live with me.”
“What?”
“You’re going to live with me. Do you have anything you want to bring?” It didn’t look like he had anything at all.
He mutely shook his head. “Why?”
I hissed through my teeth, “Just shut it and hurry up.”
“You don’t even know my name.”
He was right. “Well… what is it?”
“Cassian.”
“Let’s go, Cassian.” I grabbed his wrist, pulling him along with me. He stumbled, bare feet slipping in the mud outside.
I found my window had closed in my absence so the only way left was the front door. Mother would be asleep by now, thankfully.
I eased the door open, motioning him through after me. We tiptoed through the living room but then a light flicked on.
Cassian and I froze like two deer caught before a bow as Mother stared us down.
“What’s this, Rhysand?”
I winced. It was always bad when she said my full name. “This–this is Cassian. I told him he could live with us.”
She looked positively furious, glaring down at me, her huge wings spreading slightly, but her face softened as her gaze settled on Cassian. “There’s a bathtub with hot running water. Get in it or you can go back into the cold.”
Cassian disappeared instantly down the hall she indicated like a dog with its tail between its legs.
Mother turned back to me. “You cannot go bringing every bastard out there into this house.”
I fiddled with my fingers. “He was the one that beat me.”
She rolled her violet eyes. “No more surprises like this or I’ll be the one beating you. Back to bed, now.”
I was almost asleep when the door opened, Mother ushering Cassian in. “Into bed, now.”
Indeed, another bed had appeared across the room, twin to mine.
Cassian balked, bumping into the wall. “I–but–”
“I understand. I’ve been in your shoes,” she said, kneeling in front of him as she had for me. “It will feel like you’re being swallowed up but it’s here for as long as you need it.”
He looked at her like she was an alien. “But–I’m a bastard.”
She shook her head. “The circumstances of your birth do not matter to me.”
His lower lip wobbled but he climbed into bed. Mother pressed a kiss to his brow and left, closing the door quietly behind her.
In the leftover silence, I was barely able to hear the quiet of Cassian’s weeping.
*****
The next morning, I caught Cassian halfway through the window, about to slip out.
“What are you doing?” I asked, sitting up. It was barely dawn. “You’re letting cold air in.”
“I’m going back to my tent,” he snapped.
“Why?”
“Because!”
That’s when Mother came in, taking in the scene with pursed lips. “Cassian, darling, what are you doing?”
“I don’t want your help!” he shouted. “I don’t want your kindness!”
She took a step forward, holding out her hand. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
There were tears streaming down his boyish face. “I’m a bastard,” he sobbed, “I’m supposed to sleep on the floor.”
I rose from bed, pausing when he flinched. “Please don’t go. I don’t care if you’re a bastard.”
He shook his head, angrily wiping away his tears, but stayed quiet.
Mother wrapped her fingers around his, guiding him gently back from the window. “Let’s get some breakfast, shall we?”
I trailed after them, jealousy sparking that Mother was holding Cassian’s hand over mine. We were all quiet at the breakfast table, Mother having set out plates of bacon and eggs.
Cassian started shovelling the food into his mouth with his bare hands, much to my horror.
Mother quietly set down her fork. “Cassian, darling, use your silverware.”
“My what?” he asked around a mouthful.
She pointed to the fork.
He wiped his hands on his pajamas and picked up the fork, looking at it skeptically.
I daintily demonstrated how to use a fork while he scowled at me.
We ate in silence.
*****
Tags: @a-trifling-matter@vanilla28@texas-shaped-waffle-maker@illyrianwitchling13@feyrheart@sarahjmaasslave@h-a-p-p-i-e-s@sadb1tch3000 @samuelcasera-blog @wanderlustlastsforever @catita09 @ @madie-max@gendryaforthemasses@nestaarxheron@imlumpingamazingstuff@silver-flames@awesomelena555@ribhinnog@sannelovesreading@over300books@sayosdreams@illyrian-bookworm@perseusannabeth@ireallyshouldsleeprn@thalia-2-rose@my-fan-side@skychild29@superspiritfestival@nahthanks@duskandstarlight@julemmaes@darkshadowqueensrule@illyrianshadowhunter@maastrash@swankii-art-teacher@nehemikkele
Alone with Lucien, Elain has to set her feelings straight. When an innocent hike, turns to something a little more meaningful, she finds it hard to breath.
(Hi, so I haven’t exactly decided who I ship Elain or Lucien or anyone with, but I was toying with the idea and that’s where this fic came from.)
Warning: Contains mature content not suitable for some readers. Read at your own risk.
*****
Elain wrung her fingers as she watched Lucien approach. The house was empty for once, even baby Nyx had gone with his parents to the theater. So it was just her and Lucien tonight.
She didn’t know why that made her nervous.
He passed by her on the way to the kitchen. giving her a small smile that barely lifted his lips.
He didn’t smile around her.
“Do you want anything? I think Feyre left some cake for us.”
“No, thank you,” Elain chirped, searching for a way to leave without being rude. “I’m full from dinner, so I’m just gonna head to bed.”
His expression flickered, but it was too fast for her to read. “Alright. Sleep well.”
She nodded absently as she retreated to her room, her heart hammering. She wasn’t sure why. Desperately needing to cool down, she opened the window to her room, glancing over the edge to see the night-blooming flowers she’d planted earlier in the season. They were just barely opening as the sun made its descent, having flourished well in this land of moonlight.
Elain tugged her hair from its braid, smoothing a hand through it. She sighed as a tingling started at the base of her spine. It did that whenever Lucien was near, warning her of his presence.
A moment later, a soft rap sounded at her door.
“Yes?”
The knob turned, revealing that golden face. He’d cut his hair in the past months so it was now short as most males preferred. She would never admit it aloud, but it made him more handsome, showing off the sharp angles of his face.
“I was wondering if you’d like to join me for a hike. I know it’s late, but the view is better at night.”
Elain hesitated. Walking alone with any high Fae through the woods already sounded like a trap, but him… being alone was already miserable enough.
Lucien watched her face carefully, the pupil of his metal eye narrowing slightly. “You don’t have to say yes. I was going to go anyway— I just thought you’d like the fresh air.”
She glanced back to her window, where the flowers rose just beyond the pane. “I suppose it can’t hurt.”
“Brilliant. You’re gonna need better shoes.”
She looked at her slippers and chewed her bottom lip. “Alright.”
*****
In Feyre’s ill-fitting boots, Elain panted as she climbed after Lucien. Of all the things being high Fae had given her, stamina wasn’t one of them.
“You alright back there?” he asked over his shoulder, face washed in patches of moonlight coming through the leaves.
“I’m fine,” she rasped, catching up to him. The ground leveled finally, allowing her a bit of reprise. Thankfully, her wheezing breath had made talking difficult for the past mile or so they’d walked, but that advantage was quickly fading.
“You know,” Lucien said, eyes fixed on the trail, “your father talked about you a lot.”
She nearly tripped. She often forgot that Lucian had met her father, traveled with him. It was a fact that she buried deep with all the other uncomfortable knowledge of this world.
“What kind of things?” she made herself ask. She could be pleasant, even if she was craving the next slope and the asphyxiation it brought her.
Lucien kicked a rock out of the way, his boots torn and dusty. “He talked about how you used to collect wildflowers for your sisters when you were younger, and horrify your mother whenever you braided them into your hair.”
Elain chewed on her lip. She remembered those moments, before they’d installed a garden on the estate. The village girls would often help her, creating giant bundles to leave on people’s doorsteps. It was when she returned home with mud on her hands and in her hair that her mother would curl her lip and call a maid to bathe her until her skin was pink. Of all the things her mother did, that was one of the lighter punishments.
“I never understood why she didn’t like them.”
Lucien let out a small laugh. “He also talked about you finding a fruit from a poisonous tree and then puking for a week straight.”
Her nose crinkled. “Yes. That was a punishment in and of itself.”
She looked up, finding another hill for them to scale.
“We’re almost there,” Lucien said, shouldering the pack he’d brought with. She wasn’t sure what was in it, only that it bulged at the seams with cargo.
As they crested the hill, Elain finally caught sight of what they’d been hiking to. A small stream rushed through the trees, barely a dozen feet from a cliff. Beyond that, the lights of Velaris twinkled and winked at her, as if they were sharing a secret. From here, she could see the House of Wind, crowned in gold above the city that only really lived at night.
“This is stunning,” she said, stepping over a root. “How did you find it?”
Lucien shrugged as he eyed the stream. “I like exploring. I don’t really do much else here.”
At the tone of his voice, she glanced up. He was balanced between two rocks above the bubbling water, shifting his weight.
“Why don’t you find a hobby? Like painting or reading?”
“Or gardening?” he asked, throwing a wink over his shoulder. “This is my hobby. Besides, of course, lowering Rhysand’s opinion of me and avoiding my brothers.”
“Rhys doesn’t think badly of you.” She approached the bank just as Lucien finished crossing. From this distance, the stream was starting to look more like a river. A very fast moving river.
“The stream connects with some more down the mountain and helps feed the Sidra,” Lucien explained, as if trying to fill the silence.
Elain cautiously set her boot on a rock and found it didn’t immediately shift under her weight. As warm as the night was, she didn’t particularly feel like cooling off with a dip in the water.
“Step on this one,” Lucien said. “No. Your right foot.”
She obeyed his instructions and found both sides of the stream beyond her reach.
“Left foot on the red one. There you go. Good girl.”
She was so distracted by his choice of words that her right foot slipped, sending her forward. Lucien caught her by the elbows, one of his boots submerged in the water. She hadn’t even seen him move.
“Are you alright? Did you twist your ankle?” He guided her to the next rock.
“Is the water cold?” she blurted, then nearly smacked herself. He was still holding onto her, and that tingling in her spine grew to a tickle.
He let out a breathy laugh, not answering until she was safely on the other side. “A bit, but that’s alright.”
“Your sock must be wet.”
He laughed again and Elain found herself enjoying the sound. “Yes. My sock is wet. Is your ankle okay?”
She nodded, biting her lip. He was still touching her, a hand on each elbow, despite both of them being on dry ground. His hands were warm through the sleeves of her shirt.
As she looked up, one of those hands moved, cupping her face. His thumb smoothed over her bottom lip, drawing it out from between her teeth.
“Don’t do that,” he whispered, before seeming to catch himself. He let go of her as if she burned, instantly putting space between them. “I’m sorry. I—”
“It’s alright.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right. I’m going to get a fire started. There’s a blanket in my pack if you want to sit down.”
She nodded, blush high on her cheeks as she went for the pack he’d set on the bank. So that was why it looked so big. Inside the blanket, a bundle of cheese and meats were carefully wrapped. She set those aside to lay out the blanket on the sand ground, kicking away a few rocks.
By the time Lucien had returned, she was munching on a bit of cheese, watching him as he carefully stacked the firewood he gathered. Barely a moment later, the fire sprang to life, sparks flying in the air.
“Why get the firewood at all? Doesn’t your magic just… keep it burning?”
“I don’t want to be focused on the fire,” he answered simply, before sitting beside her, a good foot or two away. He leaned back on his hands, staring at the city below them.
“How often do you come here?” she asked, the silence burning a hole through her brow.
He shrugged. “Whenever I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“What are you thinking about now?”
He glanced at her, arching a brow as a little smile pulled at his full lips. “I don’t think you want to know.”
“Well now I’m actually curious.”
His smile bloomed into a grin. “Small talk not enough for you?”
“You’re my mate,” she said, the words like sandpaper on her tongue. His smile died. “I want to know more about you.”
“Thank you for reminding me.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“You know why.” Because you don’t want me. Because I am not enough for you.
The words didn’t come from her mind, but from a vision, of perhaps a future between the two of them. In a dark meadow, too much space between their bodies. She wasn’t sure who said it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know at all.
She blinked as the image faded.
Lucien was still looking at her. “Do you really want to know?”
“What?”
“What I’m thinking.”
She considered him for a moment and realized she didn’t want that vision for them at all. She’d changed the future once before, she was sure she could do it again.
“Yes.”
He rolled his head back to look into the sky. “I’m thinking that after everything I have lost, you are the gift I’d never once thought I’d be given and yet you’re still just out of reach.”
“I’m right here.”
“Are you?” He lowered his chin, face framed in moonlight.
Elain swallowed. “I am.”
“Then come here.”
Eyes widening, her body registered the words before she did. Going molten in all the right places, she found herself shifting so they were knee to knee.
Lucien said softly, “Lay back.”
She did and didn’t know why. A moment later, Lucien’s face was above her, his hand cradling her cheek. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
More than anything. But she said, “Yes.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as the ghost of his mouth brushed across her cheek. “Like that?” he asked, the words a hot rush across her skin.
“No.” More.
He pressed his lips to her jaw, tilting her head back slight. “That?”
“Please.”
Her eyes were still closed as his mouth finally met hers, softer than she’d expected. He kissed her lips once, twice, before nipping.
She gasped and he used that to his advantage. As his weight settled fully over her, he deepened the kiss, his tongue hot in her mouth. She welcomed it, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer, if such a thing were possible. His chest pressed into hers, his other hand resting on her hip as they kissed and kissed and kissed.
It was over before she wanted it to be.
He pulled back, lips bruised. “Have you ever… Are you…?”
“A virgin? No.” She laughed. “Though I’m not very experienced.”
“Do you want me to show you?”
The tingling at the base of her spine grew, as if in warning. She said, “Show me.”
He grinned and a moment later she found herself on her stomach, having been flipped faster than she could register. She laughed a little, pushing herself to her elbows as he pulled off her boots, then her pants.
“What about the socks?” she asked breathlessly.
“I can throw one in the water so we’re even,” he said as he pulled those off too.
Elain laughed again, for some reason not at all bothered by the fact that her ass was exposed to the moon and everyone else in the company of two.
Lucien pressed a kiss to her ankle, trailing up the back of her calf. She warmed at the feeling until he bit lightly at the curve of her ass.
She gasped, tempted to turn over to smack him, but before she could make the decision, he pulled her up by her hips, guiding her onto his lap where she could feel the press of his against her backside.
He ran his hands up her thighs as she leaned her head back onto his shoulder, content to let him touch. He lifted her shirt, guiding it over her head to toss it somewhere with the rest of her clothes. Then his hands met her breasts, squeezing gently. He twisted a nipple between his fingers, earning a sharp breath as the sensation shot to her core.
His chest rose and fell behind her with breath. “Are you already wet for me, my dear?”
She bit her lip, earning another harsh pinch to her nipple.
“What did I say about that?” he asked, nipping her ear.
“You said not to do it.”
“Good girl. You remembered.”
She blushed as one of his hands trailed down, gliding across the band of her underwear.
“Do you want me to touch you here?” he asked hotly.
“Yes.”
He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck as that hand dipped into her panties, trailing down through her core. He hummed at what he found waiting, brushing his thumb over her clit.
She let out a soft sigh, head lulling against his shoulder while he began careful circles, his other hand still working her breasts.
“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of you,” he said, guiding a finger inside of her. “How long I’ve craved you.”
She moaned while he pumped that finger in and out, curling slightly to touch that spot she wasn’t sure existed until now. As he added a second, she tucked her face into his neck, arching into his touch.
He worked her slowly, his thumb grinding against her clit. She felt release build in her faster than it ever did with her own hand, fueled by the rough calluses of his hand and the feeling of him hard behind her.
She came with a cry, convulsing around his fingers. He held her while she shook, working her through the throes of it until she was too sensitive to enjoy his touch. She pulled his hand away, but he guided it to her mouth.
“Open up. Taste yourself.”
Her lips parted around his fingers, taking in the salty flavor. Her tongue flattened under the pads, teeth scraping gently at his knuckles.
“Don’t you want some?” she asked as she pulled her head away, eyes heavy.
“I’d rather taste it from the source.”
Heat shot through her again, making her turn in his arms. His mouth met hers like it was made to be there, hands lifting her slightly so she could properly straddle his lap. She fumbled to undo the buttons of his shirt, dimly aware that she was one piece of clothing away from full nudity yet he hadn’t even taken off his wet sock.
Lucien helped her with a flick of his fingers, the shirt disintegrating from the seams with a small orange flame. Elain stared at his chest. “You didn’t burn yourself.”
He shook his head, leaning forward to kiss her neck.
“But what are you going to wear on the way back?”
“That is the last thing on my mind right now.”
“But—”
“Just touch me. Please.”
It was as close to begging as she thought she’d ever get him. She ran her hands over his chest, dusted with scars and freckles. He was skinnier than the Illyrians, though no less built. His torso was all slim muscle and carefully hidden strength.
Lucien lifted them suddenly, moving forward with a hand braced on her lower back as he lay her back down on the blanket. He glanced appreciatively down her body. “You have no idea how beautiful you are.”
She didn’t know why, but she blushed. She’d been doing a lot of that recently. Her skin was pink from where he’d squeezed and pinched her breasts, but he didn’t seem to care as he lowered his mouth to them, tongue smoothing over a nipple. She moaned softly, running her fingers through his hair while he sucked and toyed with her breasts.
He moved on when she began to squirm, lips dancing across her belly. Fingers hooked beneath the straps, he pulled her underwear off before guiding her legs open for him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee as he watched her, his single eye dark as coal.
“You don’t have to,” Elain said, uncomfortable being completely open like this. “I know that men don’t really like—”
“There is nothing I want more in this world than to taste your cunt and see you come from my mouth.”
She choked at the harsh words, more filthy, she hoped, than any of Nesta’s books.
“So let’s not pretend otherwise,” he purred and lowered his mouth.
The first touch of his tongue set her on fire. She moaned as he licked her clit, hands twisting in the blanket beneath her. He set an easy pace, sucking and drawing whimpers from her lips. She managed to release one hand from the blanket to put it in his hair, the red locks like silk between her fingers.
He growled, sending vibrations straight to her core as his hand slid up her thigh, parting her legs wider. He spread her folds, the next touch making her arch against the ground.
“So delicious,” he whispered, his thumb circling at her entrance while he sucked her clit.
She moaned as he pushed that thumb inside of her, his tongue moving in time with it. The sensations had her mind reeling, wondering if his cock was as big as it had felt beneath her.
She came with the image in her mind, fingers twisting in Lucien’s hair while wave after wave washed over her. He lapped it up greedily, drawing her slowly down from the high.
When he rose, Elain was delirious with pleasure. She grabbed the back of his neck, drawing him in to kiss her. He responded in kind and consumed her, hands sliding up and down her bare flesh. His hips lowered, grinding into her sensitive core.
“Elain,” he said. “My Tigerlily.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “What are you waiting for?”
“I— I don’t want to go any further.”
“What?” Her heart raced. He didn’t want her? It made sense. After making him wait so long, maybe he’d lost interest. Maybe—
“Because when we are joined like this,” he said, hips making a slow circle against hers that had fire stirring in her belly. “I don’t think we’ll be able to stop. And as tempting as it is, I don’t want to have you in the middle of the forest for the first time.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”
Her face must have looked like a tomato. “Well, I don’t really know what to say.”
“Say that…’’ He drew her hand from his shoulders, studying the lines of her fingers before threading them through his, and kissed the back of her palm. “Say that there is a future for us. No matter how far.”
She swallowed hard, looking into his eyes, one of brass and one of gold. They glowed like sunlight. It was hard to draw breath, her heart in her chest filling up the space her lungs were supposed to occupy. “There is. No matter how far.”
*****
Tags: @a-trifling-matter@vanilla28@texas-shaped-waffle-maker@illyrianwitchling13 @feyrheart @sarahjmaasslave @h-a-p-p-i-e-s @sadb1tch3000 @samuelcasera-blog @wanderlustlastsforever @catita09 @ @madie-max@gendryaforthemasses @nestaarxheron @imlumpingamazingstuff@silver-flames@awesomelena555@ribhinnog@sannelovesreading@over300books@sayosdreams@illyrian-bookworm@perseusannabeth@ireallyshouldsleeprn@thalia-2-rose@my-fan-side@skychild29@superspiritfestival@nahthanks@duskandstarlight@julemmaes@darkshadowqueensrule@illyrianshadowhunter@maastrash@swankii-art-teacher@nehemikkele
Madja had never laughed so much in her life. She lay on the giant bed beside Ares, covering her pink cheeks. He had just finished one of the most lewd stories she’d ever heard about a warrior turned launderer.
She couldn’t draw a deep enough breath, wiping tears from her eyes. “You are… absolutely terrible.”
Ares gave her a shit-eating grin, propped on his elbow beside her. “You love it.”
She rolled her eyes, finally able to lower her hand. “Where do you learn those stories?”
“I’ve been commanding legions for three years now. You start to appreciate the things heard around campfires.”
Her mouth popped open. “Only three years? But so many people know you.”
“It’s less than you’d think, but I’m not that old. I turn ninety-seven this year.”
“Why did you become a commander?”
“Well, it’s one of the most respected things you can be as an Illyrian.” He lay back down, tucking his arms behind his head. “It also pays much better than a librarian.”
It was her turn to move towards him, propping her head on a fist. “You wanted to be a librarian. It explains all the books.”
His smile softened. “Believe it or not, I do know how to read.”
Madja laughed quietly. “I won’t believe it till I see it.”
“Oh?”
“Read something to me,” she ordered, poking his shoulder.
“I’ll have you know, that I can read in two languages,” he said as he rose from the bed. “Let’s see who looks stupid when you’re trying to understand the ancient language of Illyria.”
“Why would you learn a dead language?”
He examined the books on his shelf. “It’s not entirely dead. Some people still speak it. There are branches of it in the far North. It’s also just a beautiful language and makes me feel closer to my people.”
Madja chewed on her lip, watching his wings shift as he reached for a book off of the top shelf.
Ares returned to her with another grin, settling carefully onto the bed so he didn’t bend one of his wings the wrong way. “Come here.” He held out an arm, opening up his side.
Madja couldn’t help herself. She snuggled closer, resting her head on his chest. His tunic was soft beneath her cheek, but his heart beat wildly. He cleared his throat, propping the book up against his thighs, and began to read.
His voice soothed something deep in her core, washing over her in a wave of prose. Sooner than she’d like her eyes drifted shut, lulled by the sound of him.
His voice lowered a fraction as her body grew heavy. “Tired already?” he whispered.
“Mmm.” He was so warm beneath her.
“You go to sleep. I’ll be right here.”
“M’kay.”
*****
Madja awoke to the feeling of eyes on her. At first, she thought it was Ares, but she could feel his face tucked into her chest, fast asleep.
Her eyes peeled open and saw a little standing at the foot of the bed. She resisted the urge to jump and wake her mate. “Can I help you?”
“What are you doing?” The girl wasn’t fully grown, but well into her teen years. She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at Madja. “Get out of his bed.”
Ares finally chose that moment to wake up. He stirred against her chest, lifting his head slowly. His voice was gruff as the first time she’d met him, injured and delirious with pain, as he said, “Get out, Marlee.”
“She needs to get out. This isn’t even her house.”
He turned over finally to glare at the girl. “She is a welcome guest and she is my mate. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Marlee scowled but indeed turned on a heel, stomping away.
Madja sat up and raised a brow at Ares. “Care to explain?”
“My little sister. She’s very over protective.” He traced her collarbone. “She’ll warm up to you.”
Madja hummed. “You never told me about your family.”
He shrugged, his wings rustling. “There’s not much to say. My father was the camp lord here, and my mother was the daughter of a lord in the far North. That’s how Marlee and I learned the language.”
“How did your parents meet?”
He chewed on his lower lip. “I don’t really know. My ma says they met at a camp meeting, but my dad said he met her by chance while exploring. They always thought it was funny to confuse us when the question came up.”
“That’s so mean.”
He grinned. “Where do you think I get it from?”
She rolled her eyes. “Is that where your sister gets it to?”
His eyes darkened a shade. “No. She used to be so bright all the time.”
“What happened?” The question slipped out of her before she could stop it. Perhaps it wasn’t her place to ask such things.
But Ares answered anyway. “A few months ago, they crippled her wings. It happens to all female Illyrians once they come of age.”
“That’s horrible.”
He wouldn’t meet her eye. “I should have done more to stop it, but… it’s tradition. She loved flying just as much as I do.”
“That tradition is terrible. They cripple all females?”
He nodded solemnly. “I don’t know why. Suicide rates are high for Illyrians who can’t fly. It’s.. our life.”
“Can they be fixed?”
“Not that I know of.” His eyes widened. “But you could try! You’re already a great healer.”
“I’d— I’d have to take a look.”
He grabbed her hand, hauling her out of bed. “Let’s go.”
*****
Madja chewed on her thumb as she examined the girl’s wings. They’d cut the major nerves and tendons, making moving them nearly impossible.
“We’ll need Shavan,” she said. “And if it works, a lot of physical therapy.”
Marlee looked over her shoulder, tears shining in her golden eyes. “But it could work?”
“I don’t know.” Madja’s heart strained in her chest. “But, like I said, I’m willing to give it a try.”
Marlee turned and threw her arms around Madja, nearly knocking her off balance. Madja held her tight, and prayed.
Prayed she would be able to help.
*****
Tags: @a-trifling-matter@vanilla28@texas-shaped-waffle-maker@illyrianwitchling13@feyrheart@sarahjmaasslave@h-a-p-p-i-e-s@sadb1tch3000 @samuelcasera-blog @wanderlustlastsforever @catita09 @ @madie-max@gendryaforthemasses@nestaarxheron@imlumpingamazingstuff@silver-flames@awesomelena555@ribhinnog@sannelovesreading@over300books@sayosdreams@illyrian-bookworm@perseusannabeth@ireallyshouldsleeprn@thalia-2-rose@my-fan-side@skychild29@superspiritfestival@nahthanks@duskandstarlight@julemmaes@darkshadowqueensrule@illyrianshadowhunter@maastrash@swankii-art-teacher
Part 2
*So this story might be a little longer than I intended, only because I have some painful plans for Ares and Madja, but not in the way you think. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.*
*****
The house was brilliant. Madja would never admit it, but she worried she’d track mud onto the fine sunstone floors. It was far bigger than most houses in Velaris, reaching nearly three stories high with a balcony on each floor. In fact, the entire house was built for Illyrians. The grand staircase in the center was wide enough to fly up, the doors were all double and at least eight feet high. All the chairs had low backs and everything was just… bigger.
“Take any room you like,” a servant said, bowing to Madja and Shvan as they passed. “They’re all on the third floor.”
“Thank you,” the healers said in unison.
Shvan left Madja to check on a few of the injured, telling her she was still a little pale. Madja glared at the back of her dark head as she retreated.
Madja wandered the house for a bit before she settled on a room. Like all the others, the bed was massive, decked in grey sheets. This one had an adjoining bathroom as well as a balcony. She closed the door and curtains before stripping down to wash any lingering blood or mud off of her.
The bath, to her surprise, didn’t take long to heat at all. She poured some of the scented soaps inside that lined the rim, lavender wafting up to meet her. With a sigh, she sank into the delicious heat, letting it ease the sore muscles that had plagued her for weeks. When was the last time she’d had a proper bath? At the war camp, the best she could do was pour a few buckets of water over her head, with no soap to be found.
After her bath, she towel dried her hair, wrapping another around her body as she drifted back into the bedroom.
And screamed.
Ares was sprawled across the bed, his wings hanging over the sides, with his arms folded behind his head. He grinned. “I hope you left some hot water for me.”
Madja sputtered. “What— what are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you the same thing.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, seeing as you’re nearly naked in my room. After taking a bath in my tub.”
Her eyes widened. “This is your room.”
“This is my house.”
“But I thought it belonged to the camp lord.”
“It does.” He shrugged. “But that’s alright. You can stay in here if it suits your fancy.”
“I’m not going to—”
“Please. I insist.” He sat up, wings slithering along the sheets.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“You love it.” He held out a hand. “Come here.”
“Absolutely not.” She took a step back, clutching the towel.
He sighed dramatically. “Well, if you don’t want to play, I’m going to take my bath now.”
“What do you mean, ‘play?’”
His grin widened as he stood. “I mean exactly what just went through that pretty head of yours.”
Blush stained her cheeks crimson as he took one step forward, then another. She matched each with a step back until her back hit the wall and he was there, barely a hair’s breadth away.
“What are you doing?” she breathed.
He reached up, plucking the towel from her hair. “Going to take a bath. You stole all the towels.”
There were more in the bathroom, but she wasn’t thinking about that. In fact, she wasn’t thinking at all.
He leaned closer, his nose brushing hers. “You smell good.”
Her eyes fluttered shut. “You smell like sweat.”
He laughed, pushing away from her. “I suppose you’re right.” With towel in hand, he padded to the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
Madja let out a breath.
*****
She was faced with a new problem— clothes. Hers were all being laundered, and Madja wasn’t about to put on the dirty dress she’s been wearing before.
She resigned herself to digging through Ares’ dresser, searching for something that would fit. She settled for a shirt and a pair of leggings that she had to roll up thrice at the waist to fit. As she tried to do up the panels in the back, a thought occurred to her.
“Did you fly here?” she blurted as Ares emerged from the bath.
He gave her a weird look. “Of course I did.”
“Your wing isn’t healed yet.”
He’d take off the splint, but she knew it would have to be another week before he was good without it.
He shrugged, holding a towel around his hips. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Yes, you did. You could have had—”
“Someone carry me? Not only would that be mortifying, but it isn’t very easy to fly with another Illyrian. Too much drag.”
“But—”
“But, what, sweetheart? I feel fine. Better than fine.” He gave her that shit eating grin. “You look good in my clothes.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“I’d rather fuck you instead.”
Her eyes blew wide. “E-excuse me. I am—”
“Shocked? You shouldn’t be.” He inched closer until she was trapped between his chest and the dresser. “I thought I made myself clear earlier.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “But…”
His fingers danced up her arm. “You see, I have a theory.”
“A theory?”
He hummed. “I think you may be my mate.”
“Your mate,” she said stupidly.
“All it would take would be a taste to know for sure. Prove me wrong, sweetheart.”
Her heart was doing somersaults in her chest. “A taste of what?”
“You.”
She put a hand on his bare chest, not knowing if it was to push him further or pull him closer. His heart beat just as wild beneath her fingers. “Why do you think I’m your mate?” She had to do this logically, otherwise she risked losing herself in him. To him.
“Your eyes,” he said, cupping her face to turn it up to him. “I’ve dreamed of them every night since I met you. They’re so dark, I thought I would drown.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“You’re right. Shvan told me something changed in your scent and mine. Something familiar.” His thumb smoothed over her cheekbone. He leaned a tad closer. “Prove me wrong.”
Her eyes fluttered shut. She couldn’t think again, which really wasn’t helping the situation. “Alright.”
With her eyes closed, she didn’t see the flash of the grin that spread across his face, but a moment later his lips fell on her own, his body closing any remaining distance between them. He kissed her like she’d never been kissed before— like she meant something.
Like something lost had come back to him.
She pushed on his chest before the kiss could deepen, unsure she would be able to handle herself if it did.
His eyes were wide as saucers. “You taste… you taste like heaven.”
“Do you have your answer?” she breathed.
He shuddered so deeply it wracked his entire body. “Yes,” he said, and kissed her again.
She responded in kind, her hand on his chest traveling up to his neck, where his hair brushed her fingertips, feather-soft. He nibbled her bottom lip until she provided him entrance, his tongue brushing hers and leaving electricity in its wake. She sighed softly, unable to help herself as she responded in kind.
He pulled back to press his brow to hers, his lashes fluttering against her cheek. “You are everything I dreamed you would be.”
She opened her eyes to find his still closed, his breath fanning across her mouth. “We should, um, go eat something.”
That pulled him out of whatever stupor he’d fallen into. His eyes opened. “Dinner should be ready down stairs. Just let me get dressed.”
When he stepped back, her hand trailed him, sliding down his arm before finally letting go. He grabbed it, bringing it up to kiss her fingertips. “Wait in here. I’ll be right back.”
She perched herself on the edge of the bed as he grabbed some clothes from the dresser before retreating back into the bathroom. She watched his back as he walked, the Illyrian tattoos traveling down his spine and across his ribs.
He closed the door with a click.
Madja let out a breath and tried to remember how she had gotten here.
*****
The dinner was far grander than she expected. It was a relief to eat something other than oatmeal and grey mashed potatoes. She was silent between Shvan and Ares, the only sounds the scrape of knives on porcelain and the murmur of some of the other healers that met them here.
Madja died a little inside as the awkward silence finally ended and she went to find another room.
A moment later, however, there were steps behind her, eating up the distance. She wasn’t sure when she’d learned the sound of his footfalls, but she did now. She turned just as he was there, lifting her chin.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Finding a room.”
“You have a room.”
“No. You have a room.” She crossed her arms.
He mimicked her stance. “I told you that you should stay with me.”
“Thank you, but I still hardly know anything about you.”
“You know that I am your mate.”
“What a fuckload of information that is.”
His lips quirked around a laugh. “What do you want to know?”
Her eyes rolled. “Well, I don’t exactly have a list.”
“I’ll make you a deal. You stay with me and I’ll answer any questions you have with complete honesty.”
She squinted at him. “Tempting.”
His face lit up like a child opening presents. “Really?”
“No.”
“Madjaaa,” he whined, drawing out her name. “Please?”
She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, before sighing. No one could deny him like that, with his eyes huge and his mouth pushed into a familiar pout.
When had he become familiar?
“Alright, but I chose what side of the bed.”
*****
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