So I’ve well and truely finished acosf (bless being an Australian who gets its nearly 24 hours before everyone else) and I’m SO ready to read the bonus chapters that aren’t sold here. If anyone has them hit a girl up.
When Aelin fell through worlds, she never dreamt that she would make it to Erilea alive. Half of her dream became a reality, she was alive, but she certainly wasn’t in Erilea. With foes at every corner and a powerful family ready to cull her for invading the body of a loved one, she has no choice but to play the games of the Night Court until she can figure out how to return home, hopefully without dragging anyone with her.
(If you’re wondering why I don’t much anymore, I feel like the audio it’s mental illness innit on TikTok sums it up pretty well. But I’m working on it!)
***
Azriel watched as the women hurried in the direction of the city. The woman, he thought, because that was most definitely not Nesta. He didn’t know how though. Because in a way it was still undeniably her. She smelt the same, she spoke with her usual venom, but Azriel had watched his brother’s mate for many years, and the way she moved was beyond the capabilities of Nesta.
And although her words held malice, he also found himself wanting to laugh with her. Like before, when she’d told Rhys he’d look lovely with a blade him in. Azriel had to forcibly refrain from laughing, and to remind himself that he should not find threats on his brother’s life as funny as he did. Azriel never really felt like laughing when Nesta was around.
He did not fly after her, Not-Nesta was too often searching above her. She was a smart one, too. If she wanted to evade him she could have. He could tell the moment they hit the forest’s edge as they were fighting that she meant to flee into the thicket, and she would have been able to if it had not been for Rhys.
That fight alone was proof enough to Azriel that this wasn’t Nesta. He had never seen some of the techniques used, and he found her a worthy opponent. He also took note of her visceral reaction to a whip, which was unusual considering it was Nesta’s weapon of choice.
Azriel did not want to go to Rhys with his theory until he had either proof or information on what Not-Nesta was up to. He could not so lightly break Cassian’s heart.
Velaris was still hesitant after the evacuation, not as many people milling about. Nesta wove through them without a thought – moving around them with footsteps as light as a dancer.
_____
The library was one of the grandest Aelin had ever seen. Sprawling in large spirals and winding in every direction, she could tell why this would be a solace for the women that worked here. Nesta gave her a brief history on the library’s inhabitants, but even if she hadn’t Aelin would have been able to tell. They had the look to them – that undeniable gleam in their eyes that spoke of trauma, of hardships but survival. It was one Aelin had seen in herself, in Lysandra, in little Evangeline. It was a look no woman or person in Endovier would ever have the chance to have. No person in Terrasen, Erilea, the world once Erawan was done with it. Her throat felt tight, and she rested her hand over her heart as if it might subside the pain. One of the librarians noticed and touched her elbow gently.
“If there anything I can get you, Lady Nesta? The usual?”
“Water would be nice, thank you,” her words blurred.
So you know them well? she asked Nesta. Well enough to have a ‘usual’ at least.
Cassian suggested I get to know them. Grow from them. Learn a little something or two.
Aelin didn’t need to ask why that might have been.
The woman returned and gave her a glass of water. After skulling it, Aelin asked after the book. Nesta had already told her that what you tell these women is always in confidence, and not even Feyre or Rhys would ever reach into their minds for information. It was too much of a violation, apparently. Aelin personally thought doing it on anyone seemed immoral. When Nesta explained Rhys’ magic Aelin had vivid flashbacks of the Valg princes at Mistward – but who was Aelin to judge morality?
“We haven’t had it here for years,” the librarian said apologetically. “The High Lord thought it’s presence made us vulnerable to attack.”
Aelin’s face fell; she felt Nesta sigh in regret.
“However,” she continued, “we have books about that book, and ones that date as far back. And if you have a particular subject in mind, I may be able to find you something with comparable content.”
Aelin gave them something better. She asked for a piece of paper to write on and jotted down a few harmless wyrdmarks. She asked for anything that had those symbols, and they gladly helped. Aelin took a seat, recognizing that although all libraries felt like a little slice of home to her, this was not her forte. And honestly, it was about time there was something she wasn’t at least fantastic at.
Aelin didn’t know if it was because she had been thrust into this world of if it had been from her forced rest, but she was exhausted. Even Nesta was quiet. Her eyes were sore, arms heavy, and her shoulders and neck started to ache.
She rested her head in her hands, her heavy eyelids fluttering. Whenever they closed, she saw the face of Rowan – grave, scared, hopeful. She perfectly saw the set of his jaw, and the twitch to his hands. To anyone else, it might seem like he was showing nothing at all. But she knew him better than that. Between visions of him, she saw Dorian. Both Dorians, now that she knew there were two. Gods, she hoped Dorian was alive and well. And she hoped that Chaol had learnt not to be as emotionally stunted as a pin cushion, so he could help his friend through this time.
Aelin wasn’t quite sure when she fell asleep, only that she was awoken by a slamming hand next to her head.
“Nesta, fancy seeing you here.”
Aelin bolted upright and turned to sneer at Azriel, who was closely followed by Rhysand. They both looked well, and although Rhysand was scowling, Azriel looking down-right jovial. An act, if his hard-set jaw was anything to go by.
“What brings you to the library?” Aelin asked casually, as though she didn’t still have drool on her face from her nap and tangles in her hair from where she had pulled at it in her sleep.
“Wanted to do some light reading,” Rhys said, his eyes glowing with something Aelin couldn’t name.
“What about you, Nesta? It’s been months since you’ve come here for a social chat.” Azriel’s hands were fisted too, even if his body was relaxed.
“Keeping tabs on me?” Aelin sneered. Good thing she had spent half her life learning how to talk to pompous men with big bank accounts and bigger egos, otherwise she might grovel at their unworthy feet. Instead, she presented herself as a challenger – as she knew Nesta would.
Azriel looked at her – dumbfounded. “Yes. Yes I am.”
Aelin didn’t expect such an honest reply.
“Don’t you want to know how he is?” Rhys questioned, stepping to Azriel’s side, one of his hands going to his shoulder.
“You look ravishing Azriel, your arm healed nicely I assume. Fae blood does such wonders.”
Aelin knew she had said something wrong the moment the words fae blood left her mouth. Nesta, who before now had chosen to stay out of this interaction, cursed.
Azriel shared a look with Rhys.
“I was not asking about me,” was not what Aelin thought Rhys would say. “I meant Cassian. You haven’t asked how he is.”
Azriel isn’t a fae you dumb fuck. He’s an Illyrian, so is Cassian, and so was Rhys’s mother.
Aelin coughed at the name. It wasn’t something she’d never been called before, but to hear it so softly spoken as though it were a fact was quite jarring.
And ask about Cassian. Please. I need to know he’s okay.
Aelin did just that, and Rhys practically glared at Azriel as he answered. “He’s worried, and Feyre is beside herself.”
“She’s thirty weeks pregnant, it’s to be expected that she’s emotional.” Repeating facts was good, showing them that she knew things was good. Calling Azriel a fae had been a strong misstep, one hopefully redacted as a slip of the tongue.
“The baby has nothing – Nesta, what are you doing?” Rhys glanced behind her, taking a peek at the books the librarians had procured for her. Books and – and cookies, bless their hearts.
“Somelight reading. Which I was hoping to do in peace, if you would politely leave.”
Good luck trying to get HigH LoRd RhYSanD to do anything. He’s so stubborn he makes you look reasonable. Ask more about Cassian. Ask if he’s still going to Illyria today.
“Is Cassian still going to Illyria today? Maybe you could join him. He might actually like being in your presence.” Aelin smiled sweetly at the two men, trying to distract them from the books she was subtly trying to push aside.
“Cassian has decided to stay home, in case you need him,” Azriel said slowly, carefully deciding his words. Aelin tilted her head, studying him. He was quite beautiful, the kind of beautiful that would have made her do reckless things in her youth. And the darkness that surrounded him… although personified in the male in front of her, it reminded her so much of her Rowan that she wanted to scream. What had become of her in her own realm? What horror was Rowan facing alone? When she did what she did, she did so knowing that she would die. This was infinitely worse in some ways – she had no idea what was now happening at home. Was she comatose? Was she dead, and this was the afterlife?
And a possibility she didn’t want to linger on. That she could go back and be with him. But only if she made it in time. She knew Rowan better than she knew herself, and she ached at the possibility of what he might do if he lost another mate.
He might just try to join her in a death she hadn’t yet been granted, and she couldn’t exist in any version of reality that didn’t have Rowan in it.
That is how I feel about Cassian. He is everything to me, Nesta confessed, the words honest and strained. Tell them they should make him go. He needs a distraction, and I don’t want him seeing me like this. Azriel may assume I’m on a bender, and I don’t think I could cope if Cassian thought the same. Azriel and Rhys would feed him that lie. I fucking know they would.
“He should go. He has so much to do, and I don’t want him lingering and worrying,” Aelin said, looking down to try and seem more passive. Maybe if they thought her harmless, they would leave her be even if something was wrong.
“We tried. He doesn’t want to leave you.”
His gallantry was noted and would otherwise be appreciated. It was also clear he wasn’t the only stubborn Illyrian Nesta knew. The two in front of her wouldn’t budge even if it meant saving themselves from her wrath.
Idon’t think they respect you very much, she told Nesta.
I prefer fear anyway.
Aelin hummed.
“Something funny?” Rhys asked, pulling up a seat beside her and swiping one of her cookies.
“I was just thinking… maybe I will go home. Make sure he’s okay.”
What? Why are you doing that? He’ll figure you out, idiot. Or worse, he’ll think I’m on the piss.
Aelin picked up the books, hoping she would be allowed to take the volumes home with her. There, they would leave her be. She just had to hope that if Cassian really was Nesta’s Rowan, then he would love her enough to keep her secrets. Aelin had the whole walk home to think of a lie extravagant enough to get them all off her back and figure out how to ask Cassian to not mention her new choice in genre. Something told Aelin these books differed from the obvious romance titles that lined Nesta’s personal shelves.
I’ll help you, Nesta said. If only so you leave quicker.
There’s just something so soft and tender and domestic about Elriel being in the garden together. And I can just imagine all the quiet yearning between them. I can’t wait until he takes Elain to Rosehall.
Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden- brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders. He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door.
Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once.
Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.
Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below. “I’ve never stayed in this room.” His midnight voice filled the space.
“Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.”
“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose.
Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.
After seeing her amazing Lucien portrait, I commissioned darihx to draw Elucien and she created the Elucien in the Day Court art of my dreams.
I love how Dariya depicts Lucien as a biracial man, and when I asked her to depict Elain as a curvy, mid-sized woman, she served absolute perfection. While admittedly mid-sized Elain is a headcanon, it’s based on Nesta’s description of a happier Elain in ACOSF as “softness and elegant curves” (201-202). I love the idea that when Elain reaches her happily-ever-after, she’ll be gloriously curvy.
Per the artist’s policies, please do not repost this piece! Shares and reblogs are encouraged, though, as is giving darihx a follow on Instagram
My sister was beaming, content—prettier than I’d ever seen her, even in her simple muslin gardening dress. Her cheeks were flushed beneath her large, floppy hat.
I wanted to close out the month how we started it with a magical Elriel MerMay piece! I hope you all enjoy this version as I am in complete awe <3 A huge thank you to @luxury_banshee for accepting the commission and absolutely breaking me with the result. The details are *chefs kiss*
What a wonderful and incredible month it has been and such a pleasure to share it with you all! I have so much love for this community Unfortunetly due to delays I missed a week of Elriel month, though the piece will still come at a later date ✨And there are plenty more INSANE pieces to come in June … and some collabs with @captnswreads
Characters belong to @therealsjmaas No hate will be tolerated on any art. Please do NOTrepost.
As I write this, it saddens me to know that this is my last @elriel-month fic. This month went by so quickly, and there was such amazing content produced from it. I want to recognize all of the fantastic people who participated in Elriel Month, both in producing content and those who consistently like, comment, reblog, share, etc. the work that is produced. It’s been such a fun month, and a huge thank you to all of those who put it on. A lot of time, effort, and work goes on behind the scenes to keep these appreciation monthsrunning. Y'all are amazing.
Now on to the fic. This is part 2 of Little One. I’ve had this fic written for months and I’m super excited to share it with you. Please let me know your thoughts!
It’s already the third week of Elriel, to be honest, I’m glad that I’m taking part in this event, although I’m not sharing full-color works yet, but only sketches, draft works). Even though this couple is in the garden, but doesn’t this work resemble a scene from one additional chapter, isn’t it? Who knows what the author will do with their history and fate, but at least there is an opportunity to capture a couple that I like, and there is still hope for their future together. @elriel-monthmonth @therealsjmaas
They had thrown them all,mere children and a crumbling man, to the wolves.
A Court of Silver Flames (2021) Chapter 4
nesta, elain, and feyre were all mere children when they allsuffered in the cottage. do you all even remember half the shit you committed during your teenage years? thank you for coming to my ted talk.
Pulling back from her window, Nesta studied those distant stars again. Half wondered if they might speak. // The stars flickered above the city, as if blinking their agreement.
Merrill turned at that, and Nesta was greeted with a surprisingly young face—and a stunningly beautiful one. All the High Fae were beautiful, but Merrill made even Mor look drab. Hair white as fresh snow contrasted against the light brown of her skin, and eyes the color of a twilight sky blinked once, twice. As if focusing on the here and now and not whatever work she’d been doing. She noted Nesta’s leathers, the lack of any robes or stone atop her braided hair, and demanded, “Who are you?”
Just want to acknowledge that this is canon. Good day.
Notes: Hello! So many of you asked for a second chapter of this prompt that I’ve written a second chapter. A hefty one, at that. 12k, a second part in Nesta’s POV, an insight into her insecurities, her thoughts on Cassian. I loved writing it, even though it took me a long time to get it right. I hope you guys love it, too.
For those of you who haven’t read the first chapter–or who need a refresher–have a lil read of A Golden Opportunity (Part One) here.
And if you enjoy reading it, please do reblog and tag–it makes my day :)
A Golden Opportunity (Part Two) Nesta
Tomas had ruined men for Nesta.
This was a readily known fact. Just as Nesta knew that Darcy had been a proud asshole when he’d first proposed to Elizabeth, she knew that she would never hand over her heart to someone who might learn to master control of its beat.
After all, the first and only time Nesta had trusted someone else with her heart, it had taken a very long time for her to get it back. It had taken months of summoning courage from deep inside of her, packing her things around the bleating of her ribcage, and, finally, learning to stand on her two feet.
I know we talkedabout this but of course the finished piece blew me away altogether. I thought myself marginally prepared, and I was very, very wrong.
The level of connection, Cassian’s attentiveness and cataloguing of all things Nesta. The way his insistence on consent was so attractive.
And while you proved yet again the wordsmith you are a hundred times over (there were so many things where I thought— I want to be her when I grow up), I think what did me in the most was:
“Real.”
I mean… let’s not pretend that you aren’t a major reason why this second chapter happened. You were my brainstorm buddy and you helped me work through THAT scene on the couch and I’ll be forever thankful.
But… we did not brainstorm that “real” dialogue together and I’m thrilled it sufficiently undid you in the way it did me when my brain threw it out at 5am.
Thank you, thank you for your validation Nessian queen
