His Name

The centerpiece of the Heir of Autumn Anthology, His Name provides the essential backbone to who Alysanne Vanserra was and who she became. From the start of her life, at six years old when she first hear his name, to the moment of her death, this story encompasses the major moments in the life of Alysanne and the times she heard Eris' name.
Mostly canon-compliant. The only major divergence is Eris becoming High Lord the same time as Feyre becoming fae.

Notes:

Story contains elements of torture, mentions of smut, and mentions of child rearing/birth. While there is nothing explicit in this piece, I do warn you before reading that there are some HEAVY portions. Trauma responses are based upon myself and those of people I am close to. They may not be your trauma response, but they are someones.
Every section of this piece was loosely inspired by at least one Hozier song.

Work Text:

The first time she heard his name she was only 6 years old, a child by all accounts, and perfectly innocent.

"Eris? Who's Eris?" She'd asked her brother, her interest piqued by the odd name when her brother sat her down to explain that Morrigan wouldn't be around much anymore.

"Mor's betrothed, Alys." Rhysand explained. "He's who she's going to marry."

"Oh! Will I get married when I'm big and beautiful like Mor?" Alysanne gave her brother a dopey grin, stretching across her face, her violet eyes scrunching up in the process.

"Most likely. It depends on what the Court needs at the time." Rhysand concurred, grinning at his sister and tousling her ashen hair.

"Do I get to pick who I marry? Or do you pick? You picked Eris for Mor, right? The only males I know are you, Cassian, and Az, and I'm NOT marrying Cassian. He's too stinky all the time. I guess it has to be Az, then."

"I'll be sure to let Az know he has a wedding to plan." Rhysand let a laugh bark out, his grin grew into a full smile, pointed canines on display. Alysanne grinned up at her brother before snuggling up to his side. Rhys tucked a wing around her, warding off the chill from the mountain wind. Alysanne drew her little wings in tight so she could nuzzle him closer.

"Whoever I marry has to be nice, and make me breakfast, like you do, Rhysie. I don't want to be like the females in Windhaven, with bruises on their eyes all the time." This caused Rhysand to freeze for a moment. He hadn't realized she'd ever noticed such things on the rare occasion they'd gone to Windhaven.

"I wont let anyone hurt you, Alys. I swear it." He kissed the top of her head and made a vow to himself then to never marry her to someone who would harm her.

She was only 6 years old, an orphan, and being raised by her brother. She knew only of love and kindness from their hodge-podge family of vagabonds and bastards. Rhysand didn't want to explain to her that she would eventually be married for political ties, that she would be bartered and begged for as females in high houses were rare. She was only 6, claiming she would marry the least stinky of her brothers, an option Rhysand would approve of if she held onto that conviction. She didn't deserve to know how cruel Prythian would be just yet.

—

The second time she heard his name was when Morrigan whispered it to Rhysand as the healers worked to save her cousin's life. "Eris did this." Mor had claimed, but Alysanne didn't believe her. Then Alysanne had heard the name thrown around the House of Wind for days as her brothers planned and plotted their revenge on the Autumn Court. Revenge that Alysanne eventually spoke up against.

"Az. Azzie, come here!" She'd insisted when the trio had broke apart from their planning for more coffee. Azriel had taught her well how to hide in the shadows, a talent which she had employed to sneak around the House and palace both, far after her bedtime to get her youngest brother's attention. Az had walked to her hushed tones under the guise of needing fresh air before shepherding Alysanne to the roof where they wouldn't be overheard.

"Rhys is going to be pissed that you're up this late, Alys." He began, but she hushed him with a simple "Shush it."

"I think Mor is lying." Alys blurted out all at once. Azriel cocked an eyebrow. The wind blew his dark locks across his eyes. Az lowered to his knees to be eye-level with Alysanne.

"Why would that be?" He asked softly. This wouldn't be the first time Alys had managed to catch someone in a lie. She'd developed quite the knack for it, and Azriel had learned long ago to trust her judgement. Alysanne gulped.

"Her eyes. They got too dark when she said it. Mor lies about little things all the time, like how much wine she stole from Rhys. They don't normally shift that much, but this time they did. But Rhys didn't see."

"They changed? Darkened? Can you explain a bit more, Alys?" He softly gripped her shoulders. The girl was trembling. Not from the cold wind whipping past them, but from something else.

"It's how I always know when you guys lie to me. I can see your eyes change. They shift around when people are dangerous or really nice or whatever too." She hung her head, eyes resting against his shoulder.

"Does Rhysand know about this?" Az asked softly. His hand started fiddling with her hair, the other brushing soft circles across her back.

"No. I-I wasn't sure- I mean, I did know, I-uhm-I," She couldn't get a word out before her eyes started welling up with tears.

"Hey, now, Alys. It's alright. I've got you." He held her as tight as possible without hurting her. "Take a second to breathe, kiddo." Alysanne stayed like that for a few moments, holding onto Azriel and crying.

"Rhys won't believe me. He never does when I tell him things." Azriel brushed a hand over the ridged scars spanning her back, a permanent reminder of Rhysand not believing her and the reason why Alysanne had come to him instead of her actual brother this time she didn't trust someone.

"I do, Alys. Tell me." Alysanne raised her head from his shoulder. Her violet eyes met his hazel. Azriel brushed an ashen lock from her forehead. "I'll always believe you."

"It's something I've been able to do for a while now. I tried telling Rhys, but he said I had a knack for reading people. He didn't understand. Or, maybe he didn't believe me. But everyone's eyes shift around a bit when I really focus on them. I can figure out what they're feeling. If it's someone I know really well, I can figure out what they're up to." Alysanne took a deep breath. "It's how I tried to warn him about what happened in Camp Ironcrest." She shivered, her shoulders jerking particularly harshly at the memory.

"It sounds a bit like how my shadows react to those they touch." Azriel touched his forehead to hers. "And they've been suspicious since I found Mor on the border." He tapped her temples. "Do me a favor, Alys. If you ever have a feeling like this about anyone, tell me, even if it's about Cassian, Rhysand, or myself. I won't let anything happen to you."

"I know, Azzie. That's why I found you tonight and not Rhys."

Azriel flew Alysanne back to her bedroom at the House of Wind to keep any prying eyes from seeing that she'd managed to escape in the first place before returning to the office the trio had holed up in.

Alysanne was only seven years old. She had developed abilities her brothers had only read about when faced with a dire situation resulting in a spurned camp lord brutally ripping out her wings. She now hesitated to speak up or speak out, except for in the presence of Azriel and Cassian, having learned the hard way that her brother would put his Court before her. She was seven, and had begun to learn the cruelties of Prythian.

—

Nearly 30 years passed before she heard the name again, this time being called out from a guards lips as the previously mentioned male stepped through the door to the Day Court's gardens. Helion had graciously invited all of the high lords and their heirs for a garden party to try and smooth over tensions between the courts. Alysanne had been announced recently as Rhysand's heir until such a time as he produced his own, which he certainly seemed to be in no rush to do so based upon the stack of letters piled upon his desk from males offering their daughter's, sister's, mother's, and nieces hands in marriage.

The heirs had all been corralled away from the immediate festivities. Helion's idea had been to promote camaraderie among the next generation. Alysanne simply felt out of her depth among the males eyeing her curiously. She was the first female to have been named heir in the history of Prythian. They all had heard countless rumors about why Rhysand had given her the title, but none had bothered to ask. Until a lanky, young male with crimson locks, deep brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose approached her.

"Alysanne, correct?" He ventured a guess, motioning to her. Alys nodded an ascent. "Excellent! I'm Eris Vanserra, Heir to the Autumn Court. What a pleasure it is to meet you." Eris reached for one of her gloved hands before bestowing a tender kiss upon her knuckles. "Why don't you join me for a cup of tea while the High Lords continue their posturing?" He'd phrased it as an absolute, but Alysanne heard the question and saw the hesitance reflected in those deep irises. He was safe. He wouldn't lay a hand on her.

"Why not? The day is bound to be long and it would be poor form to spend it in solitude." She began the short trek to the tea tables across the garden. Helion had stationed tables laden with all manner of teas, coffees, sweets and other snacks. Alysanne grasped one of the delicate mugs, selected a black tea with lavender blossoms from the bowls of leaves, and scooped some into a sachet. She added a small scoop of brown sugar to the mug before picking up the kettle.

"Damn." Alysanne muttered when no steam escaped the lid upon her inspection. She set to work searching for some kindling in the treeline when Eris stopped her.

"I, uh, can heat up the water if it's not to your liking, Lady Alysanne." He stifled a laugh. Alys turned to face him, a leaf stuck to her hair, her skirt scooped up to make a basket and already laden with twigs, dry leaves, and some heartier sticks. She glared, though not at Eris, but at the kindling.

"Would it be too unseemly to admit I forgot you were blessed by flame?" She cringed as her words left her stiffly. Alysanne, you dunce, she thought.

"Not at all, though it is humorous to see an heir gathering kindling. Surely Rhysand doesn't subject a beauty such as you to such menial labors." A glint of jest and playfulness rounded his irises, the deep browns lightening with a bit of caramel.

"I do as I please, for the most part." Alysanne shot Eris a grin. "Including roaming the woods to retrieve sticks and rocks, should I desire." She dropped all of the kindling unceremoniously, brushed the bits of debris from her skirts and approached Eris, who held a steaming mug of tea. Her mug, to be precise. She eyed him curiously, but took the mug from his outstretched hand. A matching mug rested in his other hand. "It may be a menial task, but a rewarding one nonetheless. Do you not take pleasure or solace from the quiet moments where you can be a bit childish when they present themselves?"

Eris took a long drink from his mug, the steam rising to his brows and moistening his temples. "Our childhoods were rather different, I'd wager." He stated softly over the mug before taking another drink. "But I could see the merits of a walk in nature, gathering her bounties. I tend to gravitate towards the horses and hounds for my solace." Alysanne stretched a hand to Eris. He accepted without thought and followed her to the tree she'd been standing under. As easily as she'd dropped the kindling, she plopped to the ground and sprawled her limbs wide. Her mug had been placed on the ground nearby and spared the drop. Eris sat next to her, his back to the tree trunk.

"The smokehounds, correct? I've heard stories of their abilities." Eris patted his lap. Alysanne laid her head across his thigh. Her violet eyes met his chocolate orbs.

"They can be fearsome, but mostly they are imbeciles. The pups are a nightmare to train and the adults will do anything for a cut of jerky." A grin tugged at his lips.

"Sounds like Cassian." She quipped before realizing what she'd said. Alysanne's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, a flush spreading across her cheeks and ear tips. "Please don't tell anyone I said that. I-uh- Mother's Tit's, Rhys explicitly told me not to say anything direct about the Court or the Circle. Fecking damnit, I was doing well." Eris' grin spread to a full smile.

"What a mouth you have, Lady Alysanne." Eris let loose a laugh. "You nearly made me blush." Alysanne's indignation turned to a glare.

"Please don't tell my brother. He might kill me if he learns I fucked this on my first go around." Eris snorted.

"Your secret is mine, Lady." Eris trailed a hand to her hairline, resting his fingers just above her brow. "Would he actually harm you or are you speaking figuratively?" His fingers, as long and slender as the rest of his form, tangled in her loose locks, brushing the leaves from them.

Alysanne didn't respond immediately. She wanted to say 'No' but the truth was, if it meant her or his Court, he would choose his Court. He always would. He had when she was only six and the option was maintaining Illyrian loyalty or losing her wings. He had chosen when Keir tried to force himself on her at Solstice when she had just turned fifteen. He had chosen when offers of betrothement began tumbling in, begging for her hand and he granted Lord Devlon her hand in marriage a few months back (an official announcement had not been made yet, but she knew it was inevitable).

"Your silence speaks volumes, Alysanne." He whispered softly so the others wouldn't hear. "If ever you need a reprieve, come find me. My true solace is a cabin, warded from all who would cause harm to the inhabitants. Not even my father can pierce the veil surrounding the grounds." She looked into his eyes and saw only truth.

"Your offer is greatly appreciated, Eris, but I doubt travel to your court will be an option for much longer." She hesitated. Should she tell him about Devlon? She felt she could trust him, and her intuition had never driven her wrong. "It hasn't been announced yet, but I am set to marry Lord Devlon of Windhaven in the spring."

"And this concerns you?"

"Yes, for many reasons, but mostly because our marriage is a farce. It is a bandage to cover the wounds inflicted upon the Illyrian people when I was in diapers. Devlon is kind enough on the surface, but I've met males like him and am petrified of what the future holds in a home in Illyria." She spoke plainly, never hesitating or looking away from Eris' gaze. "Rhysand promised me as a child he would never pawn me off to one who would bring me harm, yet this is the spouse he's chosen? It would be a better existence than most of the females in our court, to live comfortably wed to a camp lord while occasionally taking his abuse, but I don't want hundreds of years of misery. And what of any children I'd be misfortunate to bear? Would he wound them as well?"

"Any male who would lay a hand on a female will also lay a hand on a child." Eris grimaced, a shadow rolling behind his eyes. He's been hurt, badly. "Your fears are warranted, Alysanne. Is there any chance of calling off the betrothment?"

"Not that I am aware of. When Rhysand told him I am no maiden, he responded by saying 'She will be all the easier to break in, then'. Anything aside from catching me with another male once the betrothal has been announced would likely not be enough. Devlon is set on this union." He brushed a stray tear from her cheek.

"For what it's worth, that is an effective way to end a betrothal, but it's damaging to everyone involved. He will never know or understand why you did such a thing; the public will attack you for your actions, particularly hard after the Morrigan fiasco; and you will never forgive yourself." He paused, brushing another tear away then holding her jaw. "You could always agree to wed another, before the announcement, and go through with the ceremony as quickly as possible. The Night Court still abides by the laws stating the males of a family have authority over the females, but not all of the courts do. Day doesn't, for example." Alysanne cocked her head.

"Eris, are you suggesting we elope?" She raised from the ground, gripping his hands to hold them halfway.

"I'm suggesting exactly that. We can always separate later on, but it fixes your problem for now, and will get my father to lay the issue of heirs to rest for the time being. I have a cabin neither Rhysand or Devlon will be able to penetrate, and can swear to you to never bring you harm."

"A bargain should be struck, to ensure we both abide by our terms." Alysanne suggested, vines of black extending from her left middle finger and up her arm. "We agree to never knowingly cause the other harm." Vines tangled past her wrist under the lengthy glove. She tracked the progress on Eris' exposed forearm.

"We agree to end the arrangement should either of us find our mates." Eris added, the marks extending onto the fleshy part of his forearm.

"We agree to be faithful to the other, if, for no other reason, to maintain appearances." The marks disappeared under his rolled shirt sleeve and extended above her glove at her words.

"We agree to love and protect any children, should they be created, to never knowingly bring them harm and to support them to the best of our ability." Up the marks went, twining around their elbows as he spoke softly.

"We agree to try to build a relationship, for the duration we are together. " The vines twisted up a bit higher above their elbows.

"We agree to be kind to one another." The vines wrapped into a band near the middle of their upper arms. "Shall we seal the bargain with a kiss, Alysanne?" He grinned, positively feral for the briefest moment.

Alysanne didn't give him an answer. She simply pounced on him. Pinning him to the ground while kissing him deeply. Something in her heart ached at his touch. His scent, one of cinnamon and cloves with a hint of smoke, drove her mad at this proximity.

Eris winnowed them away with a snap to the nearest temple. They looked a pair of loons, Alysanne with small bits of leaf embedded in her hair and mud on her skirts, and Eris with a massive grin across his face for the first time in his life.

That night, Eris whisked them away to his cabin as Alysanne contacted Rhysand to let him know what had happened, what she'd done. Her abilities granted her a unique daemati gift as well. By the time Rhysand or Devlon knew what had transpired, Alysanne was happily pinned beneath her husband with his cock buried in her.

Alysanne was thirty-seven. For the first time in her relatively short life, she was happy, despite knowing what Prythian normally held for fae like her.

—

She heard his name countless time over the next twenty-three years, mostly from her own voice, but this might have been the most important time she'd heard it so far.

"Eris, I think I'm pregnant."

The soft words had been spoken with such excitement and love, Eris had misunderstood her at first, asking her to repeat her statement.

He'd noticed a shift in her scent a week prior that had gotten stronger with each day, but he hadn't said anything. He wanted her to have this moment of unprecedented elation. He wanted her to feel every ounce of the joy he'd been high on for a week now. He'd begun to wonder if she was going to figure it out, but she had, and he was beyond ecstatic. They'd actively wanted this child for a decade. They'd counted the days between her cycles, had sex as frequently as possible, taken every supplement the healers suggested, and it had finally happened.

Thank the Cauldron.

"Your scent changed some a few days ago," He decided to downplay how long ago it had been, while shielding his eyes under his hair from his mate and her strange gifts. "You are."

A wild squeal permeated the air in their cabin, piercing the still morning. Alysanne took a tentative step towards her mate. Her hands dropped to her abdomen subconsciously. Her excitement bloomed through their kitchen, her abilities to read and influence emotions running rampant as her delight got the best of her. Alysanne couldn't help it. She broke into a smile, giggling wildly. Eris did the same shortly after, though he wasn't quite certain if his was caused by his own happiness or hers in the moment.

Eris dropped to his knees, the top of his head now level with her breasts, and placed a kiss on her stomach. There was no swell of life just yet, but there would be soon. He'd spoken to the child each night long after Alysanne had fallen asleep. They'd become his confidante. Now she could share in their little routine too.

"Hello, little one." His smile spread wide. Alysanne beamed down on him, on her little family. "Now your mother can talk to you too." Another kiss accentuated by a soft nuzzle.

A thought occurred to Alysanne in this moment. She'd seen the scars on Eris countless times. She'd watched as he'd intervened to protect his mother on numerous occasions. She hadn't considered protecting their child from its own grandfather until this moment. They'd agreed not to focus on the negatives until they had to, and Eris had kept him at arms length, but this baby would likely be an heir to the Autumn Court, and would be pinned under Beron's glare their entire life. Could they protect this precious life from Beron?

Tears began to tumble down her cheeks. Alysanne couldn't stop them. Her hands fisted his hair. She let out a quiet sob, gaining his attention.

"My love?" He watched her. The tears weren't of happiness.

"Beron." She mumbled, a sniffle ending her single word.

"He won't harm our child. I won't allow him to." Eris vowed. Her grip slackened, Eris rose to tower above her.

He'd filled out some in their twenty-three years, a direct result of her cooking and baking on a routine basis. Eris had been a full head taller than her before, but now he bore a great presence. Between his height, the sheer aura of power emanating from him, and the way his shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirts just so, Eris struck an imposing figure.

Alysanne had changed in that time as well. Her curves had rounded out, hips widened and primed for childbearing, but the largest change came in a form she hadn't expected: her power and abilities. Where Rhysand was the night sky, Alysanne was starlight. Not only was she able to read and utilize emotions and intentions, but she could warp the very stars to her will. She had poured over texts in multiple courts only to find a single account of such power, from nearly 15,000 years prior. Eris had molted into her mate, her protector, and future High Lord. She had metamorphosized into something else entirely.

She bore the power to protect their child too, despite the momentary lapse in judgement. Call it anxiety or irrational fear, perhaps a mother's intuition which triggered her tears. It was irrelevant. Between the two of them, their child would flourish. They would never know pain, hunger, or desperation, so long as Alysanne and Eris could prevent them from incurring such wraths.

"You won't have to alone." Alysanne vowed. Eris pressed his forehead against hers.

"Neither will you, my love."

Alysanne slept peacefully that night knowing not every male in Prythian was good, but her mate was. She was 60, starting a family, and at peace.

—

The worst time she heard his name spoken-well growled, really- occurred just outside the border to their cabin. Eris and Alysanne had decided to take their gaggle of children out for an evening walk before the stars emerged when Alysanne heard a voice belonging to someone she hadn't spoken to in over seventy years.

Azriel had caught Alysanne's scent on the wind. Their cabin was so close to the Night Court border, it was a wonder he hadn't figured out where she was sooner. Then he'd caught Eris' scent. Rhysand had never explained what happened those seventy years ago. He'd simply stated "Alysanne abandoned her duties to the court." when pressed, and Azriel had searched high and low since then. He hadn't bought Rhysand's blunder.

He never would have thought to find her with Eris. Never with the Autumn Court, with it's scheming and backstabbing. When he'd caught the male's scent too, several things fell into place. First, Eris must have done something to her in order to bring her there. Second, he'd held some leverage over Alysanne all this time to keep her complacent. Third, he was going to slaughter the male, regardless of his status as heir for stealing away Azriel's sister.

"Eris Vanserra!" Azriel called out from above, seemingly from nowhere and everywhere all at once. He had to play this safely. They were still technically in the Autumn Court, but if he could convince Eris to admit to what he'd done, then Azriel could take whatever actions necessary to retrieve Alysanne.

Eris ushered Alysanne and their children (their oldest, a male named Aristaeus, was on a joint mission to the Dawn Court with Eris' mother) behind him as Alysanne gripped their youngest tighter to her chest. Their daughter cooed up at her. At only two months old, Selene couldn't possibly fathom the seriousness of the situation they were in. Alysanne could. She had trained relentlessly with the owner of that voice, knew he was no one to be trifled with. But she had one thing Azriel couldn't account for, and that was starfire.

The pleasant tingle of her power shuffled throughout her core before extending outwards. Alysanne knew Azriel wouldn't hurt her or the children. Eris, though? He would absolutely bring harm to her mate. She wouldn't allow that to pass. Her power quickly trickled to her fingertips where small beams of light emitted. She hadn't yet willed the flames into existence. The light would be enough to staunch his shadows and buy them time to make it to the cabin.

"Let me talk to him." Alysanne spoke into Eris' mind. His nod was nearly imperceptible. She tightened the fastening on Selene's wrap before stepping into a clearing for Azriel to see.

"Az?" She spoke upwards, knowing full well he was disguised in shadow above her somewhere. Night had only just begun to fall. They had been making their way back to the cabin when he'd found them.

A whoosh of wind, the leaves and twigs behind her crunched harshly, then she could smell him. Azriel had always carried the scent of fresh mint and morning dew. She'd know it anywhere. Alysanne turned to face him, fingers still buried tight in Selene's wrap.

"Alys." Az froze as he took in her form and the significantly smaller form attached to her. His shadows reeled in immediately. The forest lightened a degree, granting Azriel a line of site to Eris and their children.

Not all of the kids she'd given birth to. Three of the five standing behind him were actually his brothers, all being raised under their roof (as much as possible) to spare them their father's wrath. The youngest was a male named Lucian, barely able to talk, but looked ready to murder the male threatening his 'Sanie'.

"I can explain everything." Alysanne disengaged her power. It remained primed for use, but no longer showed. Azriel motioned towards the kids, then back to her, and to Eris.

"I'm fairly certain I know how children are made, Alys." He snorted. "Rhysand said you abandoned your duties."

"Depends on which court you ask." It was her turn to snort."Of course he'd give some half-truth or hyperbole." Her eyes rolled involuntarily. "Listen, we have to get everyone into bed soon or they'll be absolute nightmares in the morn. You can join us, if you'd like. We can talk over some tea."

A beat of silence dropped between them. Alysanne could see the thoughts running behind Azriel's eyes.

"No harm will come to you, Shadowsinger. You have my word." Eris vowed, taking a step forward, Lucian now on his hip pointing a particularly long stick towards Azriel. Alysanne read the silent conversation between the males. Azriel doubted Eris' word.

"Az, if you won't take his word, take mine." She extended a hand to him, palm skyward to bear her forearms. She bore no daggers up her sleeves, no means to bring him harm. It was an Illyrian gesture he would recognize that Eris wouldn't, a show of submission.

Azriel relented with a low grumble.

Eris ushered the kids along the path back to their cabin. A veil separated the grounds from the surrounding forest, shielding all onlookers from seeing into their sanctuary. A shimmer ran through their blood as each person tread the familiar trail marked by a single slash in the tree bark. One by one each member disappeared from view, leaving Azriel and Alysanne.

"Shield." She mumbled, focusing her footing on the uneven stones beneath the flowing water past the tree. "Eris has this place shielded better than Rhys does Velaris." Azriel watched her steps intensely then copied them. A small shimmer glinted over his skin, his blood heated, then he was greeted with the sight of their home.

The cabin had turned into a den with each additional child. Swings, climbing ropes, and obstacle courses were suspended from the trees near the edge of the property. Two small play houses sat in another portion of the yard with a sandbox in-between them. Off to the opposite side was a sparring ring with a lean-to protecting wooden training weapons. A clothesline spread across most of the backyard. Azriel felt out of his element in a scene so…. domestic.

"I'll get everyone to bed." Eris volunteered as the trio approached the house. "Give you guys time to talk." Alysanne nodded. Their girls wouldn't like their father tucking them in instead of her, but they would have to cope.

Alysanne motioned towards the door.

"I'll get a kettle on. Settle in wherever you can. The furniture isn't particularly wing-friendly, I'm afraid." Alysanne twitched her shoulders, a phantom twinge in a wing long since gone. Azriel didn't say a word.

She huffed a bit before walking the short distance to the kitchen. Azriel looked visibly uncomfortable. He'd likely never been inside a home so full of love and contentment. He'd never known bliss. The kettle didn't take a few minutes to boil, during which Alysanne grabbed a tin of peppermint tea for Azriel, her tin of lavender black tea, three mugs, and a bowl of brown sugar. She returned to see Azriel intently observing the chest overflowing with toys beside her bookshelf.

She sat the tray of tea materials on the small, center table. Selene had fallen asleep on their trek back to the cabin. The infant would likely awaken soon. Alysanne carefully began untying the knots fastening the babe to her chest. Selene's ashen hair poked over the top of her bindings in a haphazard mess. Alysanne laid the tiny girl down in the basinet near the window overlooking the yard. With a bit of luck, she could have a cup of tea before the baby awoke wanting her own snack.

"What is all this?" Azriel murmered over the sound of raucous giggles from up the stairs ascending from opposite the front door. His attention was now snared by Selene, her little snores permeating the awkward tension.

"My family. My life." Alysanne answered simply. She stirred a bit of sugar into her tea. "My everything." She sat down on the rocker placed beside the bassinet, tucking her legs beneath her.

"If you're here under duress, if Eris is harming you or threatening you, I'll arrange for you and the kids to be removed and brought back to Night." Azriel didn't hesitate to offer. Alysanne very nearly laughed, then thought about what things must look like to someone from outside.

"Az, he's my mate." She couldn't help but grin. "Eris has never laid a hand on me that I didn't explicitly request." That drew a stifled laugh from Azriel. "I don't want to go back to Velaris. I'm happy here."

"And the children? Is he forcing them on you? My intelligence has shown Beron-"

"Don't ever be so ignorant as to compare Eris to the thing that fathered him again." Alysanne snapped, venom in her voice. "The three boys you saw are Eris' brothers. Clymene asked us to raise them to spare them the brunt of the fecking High Lord's ire. Beron is too frightened of Rhysand to do much to me. I'm their shield." She paused to take a tentative sip of her tea. "How did you, of all people, not know? I go into town regularly and haven't hidden where I am."

"I'm not permitted into the Autumn Court without express invitation from the royal line. I had no way to monitor. Autumn is the only Court where I work blindly, relying on the Intell granted by those willing to cross Beron." Azriel watched Selene with interest. The only time he'd handled an infant had been when Alysanne herself had been that size.

"Ah." She paused, took another sip of tea, and met Azriel's eyes. " I couldn't fathom the thought of a lifetime tethered to Devlon, knowing what he was. I took a gamble on Eris." Another pause, another sip. "Obviously, the gamble paid off. The mating bond snapped a couple weeks after he brought me here, and the rest is history."

Azriel glanced to the toys littering the sofa. She hadn't had a chance to pick up between their normal routine and the unplanned walk. His glance wasn't of judgement, but Alysanne could see uncertainty and regret littering his composed demeanor.

"You want to know them, I take it?" She broke the silence, garnering his attention once again. "Your nephew and nieces?"

Azriel settled on a chair with a short enough back his wings could sit atop. He pulled the chair next to the bassinet, opposite Alysanne. Selene stretched, her little limbs breaking free of the blanket holding her before violet eyes opened and settled on him.

Then she screamed.

Selene released a wail beyond shrill. Azriel's hands flew to his ears to muffle the sound. Alysanne cackled wildly, sat her mug on an end table, and reached into the bassinet for the babe.

The moment the ashen-haired child was held to her mother's chest, she calmed. Her nose went into overdrive scenting Alysanne, her face nosing between what cleavage was exposed from her mother's tunic.

"Ah, dinner time, then?" Alysanne questioned Selene. The child squealed, this time in excitement, as Alysanne worked to position her for a feeding. "If this makes you uncomfortable-"

"No. Not at all." Azriel interrupted. "I wouldn't want to eat with a blanket over my head. She shouldn't either." Alysanne started feeding Selene before his statement was finished. They sat in silence for a few minutes, save the giggles and stomps of feet from the bedrooms upstairs. Azriel was stunned. This was Alysanne now, this domesticity. "What are their names?" He begged, breaking the silence

Alysanne smiled broadly.

"This one is Selene. She was born just 9 weeks ago." She nodded her head to the baby. "Upstairs are the twins, Astraea and Calliope. They'll be twelve this autumn. Our eldest is Aristaeus. He turned 57 in the spring."A slight break in her thoughts as she contemplated her next words."There was a stillbirth and two miscarriages between the twins and Aris, if you're wondering why the gap." Alysanne paused. Her eyes glassed over a moment, then she sniffled and glanced to Azriel. "His name was Hermes."

"Alys, if I'd known, I'd have been here for you. I can't imagine how hard that was." Azriel began to apologize. Selene cut him off with a small burp.

"It was best Rhysand be kept in the dark, given how things were left. He never understood the perpetual state of fear I lived in thanks to him. I wasn't risking a daughter being subjected to the same agonies. The Night Court is not kind to females." Her tone wavered. "I abhorred not telling you. At the time, it was the best option. We could handle either Rhysand or Beron, not both. We chose the devil Eris knew best. The one he could manipulate and play to maintain our safety. Rhysand is….. impulsive, hard to predict, and, at the time, neither of us could compete with him in sheer power."

"At the time?" Azriel's brow raised.

"My abilities have, uh, developed beyond anything I ever expected. Eris believes they may rival the last queen of Prythian's own." She hesitated before tacking on the next part. "Astraea inherited them."

"And you believe they rival Rhysand's?" A wary nod came in response.

"Eris reckons I inherited some long-dormant High Lord magic. There are records we found from the last High King, depicting his Queen with similar abilities, but that was nearly fifteen-thousand years ago. Nothing of the sort has been seen since." Selene appeared to have taken her fill, was now swiftly falling back to sleep. Alysanne gave the child a small smile while recovering herself and propping the baby up on her chest.

"Your father always made the claim that the family had royal blood, from then. I suppose it makes sense." The ruckus upstairs had quietened down significantly. Alysanne was about to ask Eris if everyone was down when he began descending the stairs. She waved him over.

He began tidying the room. The discarded toys were placed in their baskets near the bookshelves, the blankets strewn haphazardly between the sofa and stairwell in a makeshift tent were folded and placed in a neat pile, then Eris helped himself to some tea as Azriel took tentative steps towards regaining his sister.

"How do Cassian and Rhys fare? I've not heard a word from either of them." Likely at Rhysand's word, she mentally tacked on. Azriel now held Selene, her tiny head propped on his forearm with a wing wrapped around to ensure she didn't accidentally roll away. It didn't matter that Alys and Eris both assured him she was too small for such feats. He remembered a time when Alysanne herself went flying out of Cassian's arms. The thought haunted him.

"Well enough. Cass is still sleeping his way through the Night Court and Rhys is too buried in High Lord shit to join in. I can't say much more, though, Alys." He looked saddened by this thought. He wasn't able to confide in her now as he once had, as they'd once been the other's confidante. She'd picked another Court.

"I understand, Az." She gave him a wary smile. Azriel's eyes clouded over in an instant. Rhysand.

"He's calling me back to the House." A drawn out pause. "What-"

"Tell him the truth." Alysanne interjected. "Tell him you found me, my mate, and our children. Tell him I don't regret a single decision. And tell Cassian I love him." She reached into Azriel's arms to retrieve Selene.

"And Rhys?"

"I made my mind up about my dear, darling brother when I was 6 years old, Az." Azriel nodded. His eyes flitted to Eris.

"May I return to see Alys and the children? To be a part of their lives?" His eyes tinged red. Alysanne could feel the tears welling before she noticed his rapid blinking.

"As often as you'd like, but Shadowsinger?"

"Yes?"

"If you ever reveal this place to a single soul I will reduce you to a pile of ash in seconds. This cabin exists to be our haven. Break the peace, and you will certainly perish." Eris didn't blink, didn't stutter. His words were cold, calculated, and promising. There was no threat veiled within them. There was only certainty.

"I wont, I swear it on the Mother."

"That's futile. Even the Mother won't be able to help you should you cross us." His voice was laced with venom, a near growl rumbling out.

Alysanne often forgot her mate was the next High Lord of Autumn. The handful of times she'd witnessed his power and dominance exerted like this were few, but that tone of voice and promise lingering behind his chocolate irises had her snapping her eyes to meet his. She took a steadying breath. Azriel stood three feet away. He was certain to hear how her heart had begun racing and could scent her immediate arousal permeating the air.

Azriel nodded a goodbye to his sister with a smirk written across his face. Alysanne sat Selene back down in the bassinet.

The second the baby was secure in her bed, Eris' fingers dug into the neck of Alysanne's dress. He pulled her up, spun her to face him, gripped her by the throat, and backed her against the nearby wall. Eris breathed in her scent, his nose nudging her neck. Alysanne let out an unsteady whimper.

"P-please, Eris."

Eris emitted a low growl in response.

-
Alysanne slept peacefully that night, thoroughly worn out from a night of high strung emotions and release. Her family was safe, her mate held onto her tightly in their spacious bed. For once in her 117 years, she felt as if nothing could harm her.

—

Her children would be well-past fully grown before she heard his name spoken in a manor that particularly resonated with her again. She'd recently turned 456, an age that had at one point seemed entirely unattainable, but now was simply another notch on her belt, and heard Eris' name called out from across Forest House by a voice she hadn't heard since she was practically a child.

Alysanne had been deep in conversation with Clymene regarding a potential marriage proposal from the Winter Court. Kalias had offered to wed one of his sons to one of her daughters, to which Clymene and Alysanne had been in deep debate about which daughter and why. She hadn't noticed him enter the throne room until the audience fell silent. Clymene glanced over Alysanne's shoulder. Her pupils widened in shock, prompting Alysanne herself to spin and face the newcomer.

His back was to her, but there was no mistaking the powerful cut of her brother's physique. Rhysand had always exuded sheer dominance. Alysanne knew now that was an active effort on his part, a casual reminder to those around him of his status. She bore the same amount of power yet felt no such need to put herself on display.

"Eris, I would speak with you and Alysanne." Rhysand has requested- well demanded- of her mate. Alysanne took a step towards Eris. He stood on the dais beside Beron who was perched on the throne and Aristaeus who stood on the opposite side. Eris' dark eyes found hers immediately, then searched the crowd for Selene, Calliope, and Astraea's. Alysanne gave a silent command to their daughter's to return to the cabin. A flash of flame and twinkling light blurred from opposite corners of the room as their daughter's winnowed away.

Alysanne attempted to prod into Rhysand's thoughts, taking uncomfortable steps toward the male. Beron would take affront to Rhysand approaching Eris. Rhysand turned to face her. She wasn't certain what to expect for the first glance at her brother in over 400 years, but the look of disgust had been furthest from her mind. She froze, her movements halting as she took him in.

There had been stories over the years of the Night Court's degradation, of Rhysand's slow descent into what had been rumored to be either tyranny or madness. Even Azriel had made a couple odd comments here and there. Rhysand took care to cast his gaze away from hers quickly. He's hiding something. She mentally whispered to Eris, her gaze never leaving her brother.

"Ah, the turncoat, my darling sister." His violet eyes took in her form, clad in the traditional deep greens and browns of the Autumn Court. Her attire, though clearly not formal, was a step above her casual wear with decorative additions to her puffed sleeves and minor detailing near the hem of her gown. The gown had been mended in a few places, mostly around the cuffs where Alysanne tended to dampen or dirty the fabric when worn. It had been a gift from Eris some 100-odd years ago which she wore at every possible convenience. Her ashen locks were braided in a tight coronet. She looked the part of the future Lady of Autumn, which infuriated Rhysand all the more. Nothing of her Night Court heritage remained, save the hue of her hair and eyes. Even the pallor of her skin had brightened with the soft, autumn sun gracing her features.

"Rhysand, I will not allow you to speak ill of a member of Court, of my family, of the mother to my grandson," Beron spoke softly, motioning to her then to Aristaeus to his left. Alysanne glanced warily to her mate and son on the dais. Aristaeus had been witness to enough of Beron's outbursts to know to take a step away from the throne. She sighed as Eris did the same. By all appearances, it seemed as if the pair were stepping aside to give their High Lord the room, but Alysanne knew the silent conversation happening between the males well enough. Eris would pull their son behind the throne, grip his hand, and then nod to Alysanne to let her know their son was secured. The nod came soon enough. "Nor will I allow you to relieve yourself of decorum entirely by addressing," his voice began a crescendo, "a more junior member of the court before it's High Lord."

Beron rose from his throne. Rhysand didn't bother to face the now-shouting High Lord as fire began to crackle through the air.

"High Lord, I would apologize on my brother's behalf," Alysanne began, taking quick steps to intercept Beron, brushing past Rhysand entirely, "The Night Court is not as structured as Autumn, my Lord. Rhysand is out of practice." She softly gripped his forearm. A gamble, given his current state, but she'd been able to calm him this way before.

Heat flared all around them. Streaks of flame ebbed from Beron. His eyes, Eris' eyes, jolted to her hand on his arm then to meet her violet irises. Calm, calm, calm. She urged through him. Creating an inter-Court war would be detrimental with the Hybern threat looming. Beron's eyes glazed over a beat then cleared. Beron clasped a hand over hers, giving her knuckles a firm squeeze. She was lucky Beron never maintained a mental shield. She managed to crash through to intervene every time she tried.

"Such transgressions will not be tolerated a second time, Rhysand. You are fortunate to have a sister willing to speak for you." He unclasped her hand. "What business do you have with my son? Have there been any developments in your dealings with Amarantha?" The flames fizzled out, leaving scorch marks along the vaulted ceiling.

Alysanne joined Eris and Aristaeus on the dais as the High Lords went about their posturing. Eris ordered the room cleared of anyone not immediately related to one of the males seizing attention. Clymene ushered Aristaeus away from the scene. Should a fight erupt, at least one heir had to be preserved. A long ago discussion decided which heir.

"My business is with my heir. Her husband's invitation is a mere formality." Rhysand spat back, eyeing Beron then his sister carefully. He wouldn't have missed the interaction that had occurred. "Eris is an unfortunate complication in the matter." He continued, focus now fully shifted to Alysanne. Alysanne took a deep breath before speaking.

"Eris is the most fortunate complication I've encountered, excepting our children, Rhysand." Her voice was flat, as unemotional as could be willed. The last thing she wanted to do was to spur another round of High Lords comparing their egos. "Whatever you say to me will be spread to him. Whatever business you have can be shared amongst us." She took a step forward, reaching for Eris behind her.

Rhysand barked a laugh.

"My business concerns our Court, Alysanne." His matching eyes met hers, a battle between them emerging.

"Your Court. I've not been a member of the Night Court in over 400 years. I escaped." A twinge of pain shot down her shoulders, along the jagged scars canvassing her back.

"As my sister, you will always be part of the Night Court, or have you forgotten your status as my heir?" He took a step up the dais. Despite Rhysand being nearly a foot taller than her, they stood eye to eye.

"Some brother you've been. I've reached out countless times over the centuries to be met with silence." Alysanne pulled to her full height, head high. "I've not been a member of your wretched court since marrying Eris, or have you forgotten the laws which govern such dynamics? As my husband and mate, he has say over where my allegiance lies, not you. You would dare not lay claim where you have none, lest you suffer the consequences."

Rhysand stepped up to her level, undoubtedly so he could loom down upon her. Alysanne met his gaze with a glare. She would not bow to the male who'd allowed her to be abused so many times and had intended to continue the abuse. She would take a stand. Eris's hand brushed across her lower back. She wouldn't have to handle Rhysand alone.

Alysanne allowed her starlight to flare across her fingertips as she cocked her fists to her hips, illuminating the expanse of hall behind them. She unleashed the tether withholding her power as the starlight began to shift into flames of white. They trickled from her fingertips, dripping like hot wax to the stone floor. The molten flames gathered around her boots. She willed the pool to skim the surface of Rhysand's patent leather shoes, marring the flawless finish. A snap, and her flames were gone.

Rhysand watched her cautiously. She certainly was no longer the sister he'd known.

"I've brokered a bargain with Amarantha." He opted to begin. His eyes flared with a rush of emotions Alysanne had a hard time reading. Shock was at the forefront, but desperation and anger fell behind. His irises swirled with a torrent. "I am to become her slave in exchange for her leaving the Night Court in peace. You will take my place."

A growl came from behind Alysanne. Eris' grip on her lower back tightened.

"Absolutely not." Beron spoke up from behind Rhysand. Rhysand didn't bother acknowledging his elder, rather he held eye contact with Alysanne. "Your own failure to produce a proper heir in your nearly 500 years is a situation for the Night Court to resolve. You can not come into Autumn and make demands of my denizens."

"I will make whatever demands are deemed necessary to ensure the survival of my own Court." Rhysand spat to Beron.

"Then demand your own damned female and make your own remedy. You will not seize mine." Eris tugged Alysanne to his chest. His scent of cinnamon and cloves was nearly overwhelming, yet it was a balm. Alysanne took a deep, grounding breath. It was not often Eris displayed such possession over her. She could likely count the times it had occurred on her fingers, all of which were moments when his actions were borne of some innate desire to fend for his mate.

Rhysand groaned, his eyes rolling. "I am uncertain as to the customs of Autumn, but in the Night Court we are not in the practice of procreating with our sisters, lordling." Another growl from Eris. His grip on Alysanne tightened uncomfortably. She winced a smidge, hopefully not enough for either male to notice. "Alysanne is to return to Night to rule in my stead, as befits her stature as heir, until I return or a true heir emerges."

"And should you perish during this time?" Beron questioned, taking several steps to join them on the dais.

"Then my power would likely transfer to one of Alysanne's children." Alysanne's breath hitched. She had never considered that particular likelihood. "Perhaps one of them already has." A smirk played on his lips.

"Impossible." Beron began, "Eris' own heir emerged when the boy was still in diapers, and their daughter's are all of unremarkable talent. They're females of mixed blood. The only thing they are good for is solving political headaches. An arrangement could be made to solve your own dilemma." At the High Lord's suggestion, Eris released Alysanne to advance on his father.

"You have no-"

"ERIS!" Alysanne shrieked as Rhysand launched into action, jerking her against his chest. Within a second darkness enveloped them, then they were falling.

Rhysand's wings expanded to ease their descent. Alysanne remembered this feeling well. The chill on the mountaintop, the harsh click of the cobbles when they landed. She had many memories from atop the House of Wind with her brothers, all of which erupted into her mind as the familiar scent of jasmine permeated her nostrils.

The moment they landed Alysanne drew her right arm back and punched Rhysand square in the eye. Then threw another punch to his nose. Blood spilled over his clothes. Darkness ebbed from his hands. Alysanne had had enough.

Starfire burst from her hands in full force, shooting a flare into the evening sky. The flames flickered along the rooftop, obliterating the training rings and safety rails. Each step she took left prints of molten flame behind.

"You will take me back, Rhysand." She snarled. "My mate and my children are in Autumn. You have no right to kidnap me, to drag me back here." Flames closed in on Rhysand. He went airborne, hovering just over them.

"You had no right to run away to another Court, sever an engagement to a camp lord, and create a nightmare of magnanimous proportions. Consider this recompense. You've been granted 400 years to live as you see fit. It's time to do your duty to your court." A strangled laugh escaped his lips. Alysanne shot ribbons of flame towards him. Rhysand deflected them, smacking them away with his own power. Each one came faster, harder. Each hit more difficult to make until one spiral of flame crashed into his chest.

Rhysand's tunic burst into flames. The tunic reduced to nothing in a near instant as the flames molded to his skin, branding him with ice as they met skin. His shrieks of agony echoed off the roof. Alysanne hesitated. She'd never used her powers against another. She'd never heard these sorts of screams caused by her own hand. She couldn't fathom the pain, the agony.

In an instant every lick of starfire blinked out.

"If I ever see you again I won't hesitate to kill you." She spoke with an eerie calm. "You have until I count to five to leave before I release the flames again." Rhysand didn't give her to 'two' before soaring into the evening sky.

Alysanne made her way into the House. She couldn't fly down, so the stairs were her only option. She'd need to pace herself. She'd also likely need some rations and a blanket to rest with at some point. She'd barely begun rummaging through one of the bedrooms (Azriel's from the scent) when a rucksack containing everything she'd need appeared on the bed. Alysanne thanked the House and began the descent.

She would not rest that night. She would not take a break until the sun began to crest the next morning. When she did finally pick a particularly broad step to sleep on, slumber found her rapidly. Alysanne was irate. She was livid. She'd very nearly killed Rhysand the night before, but that part she was oddly accepting of. Alysanne would find a way back to Autumn if it killed her. Rhysand be damned, the Night Court be damned. She was 456, for fucks sake; she would not be bossed about like some belligerent teenager. She would not allow her brother's perverse sense of recompense cripple the life she had built. She would persevere.

The Night Court had very nearly been her undoing when she was young; it absolutely would not be her undoing now that she was beginning to grow old.

The scent of leather hit her the moment she awoke that afternoon. Leather and sweat and the faintest hint of something floral she'd never been quite able to place. Alysanne opened her eyes to dwindling light from a nearby window and Cassian watching her curiously. The second he realized she was awake, Cassian rushed to her side.

"Alys!" Suddenly she was being heaved up into unfamiliar arms. Alysanne fought against him for just a second. Cassian didn't even attempt to fight back. He simply held her to his chest, his nose tucked to her neck and her feet dangling below her. This was a hug. A hug from her eldest brother. She didn't think. Alysanne melted into his touch. "What in the Cauldron are you doing in here? What happened on the roof?" He released her. Alysanne's feet hit the bricks with a soft thud.

"I couldn't winnow away due to the wards and flying wasn't an option, so I started walking." She started to explain. "Rhysand dumped me on the roof before flying off. I didn't know when you or Az would return. The stairs were my only way home." Alysanne brushed a spot of debris from her skirt. The deep green fabric had torn in a few places during her altercation with Rhysand and hike down the stairs. It needed mending badly.

"Rhysand said-"

"Rhysand has said several things, as of late. Heed them not." A directive from a Lady, not his sister, she realized as her voice took on the familiar authority deemed necessary in court functions. Cassian recoiled at the harshness. "Rhysand is a manipulator of the master varietal."

"Aristaeus is with Azriel in the town house. They sent me to find you." Alysanne's head snapped toward him briefly before she realized of course Cassian would have met Aristaeus at some point. Aristaeus was the commander of Autumn's guard. Surely they'd had meetings or conferences in his life.

"Why, pray tell, is my son and Autumn heir in the Night Court?" She could hazard a guess that he'd been sent as envoy to prevent a war, but it was just as likely Beron had sent him to wage war and her son was now a prisoner.

"Clymene sent him. Beron won't allow Eris beyond the borders of the Forest House keep out of concern for the future of both Court's, so the Lady sent Aristaeus to parlay for your return. Beron is requesting representation from the Courts to Autumn to take action against Rhysand." A beat of silence. "Did he truly make a deal with Amarantha?"

Alysanne began descending the stairs, taking the lead to give Cassian ample room behind her for his wings.

"He claimed to have when he arrived in Autumn. The recent unpleasantness in Winter likely prompted action to protect the citizens of Night." She took a few steps before tacking on the next part. "Had he thought it through, he'd have realized that bargain was tantamount to a deal with the Bone Carver, likely worse. She now has him at her disposal to keep us in line. He'sl crippled Prythian."

"He never spoke a word to us. We didn't know until you shot off the light and Aristaeus showed up." Alysanne stumbled over a loose stone in the stairs, catching herself against the outer wall. "Your son is something else, Alys. It takes a particular amount of both talent and ambition to survive in Autumn and remain kind." A grin split her face. All of her children were kind, it had been something she'd instilled in them from a young age and promoted throughout their adulthood.

"He's his father's son, to be certain." Pride littered her voice. Pride and a tinge of sadness. Between his looks, the way he held himself, and the raw power he so rarely exerted, Aristaeus was undeniably the next Autumn Heir. He also, unfortunately, had his mother's penchant for finding himself in situations with no good way out, and now bore the scars. Aiding Lucian in escaping had borne the largest.

"I'd have thought he took that from you." Cassian replied easily. He offered Alysanne a hand to right herself with. She quickly declined and continued her descent.

"Eris is far from the monster you have been led to believe him to be. Morrigan's gift may be truth, but she speaks precious little of it herself." A brief pause as she weighed her next words. "Remember I did choose a gamble on him and Autumn instead of a sure bet in Night."

"So said Azriel." He countered.

"So say I." Alysanne caught a glimpse of the alcove and platform a few steps ahead. "It matters not to speak on agendas and ideals from events nearly 400 years ago, Cassian. I made my decisions then, as I do now. Rhysand be damned."

"Does your hatred for him run so deep you'd leave his Court to fall?" Another counter, another attempt to argue and sound smart.

"My emotions towards Rhysand have never been so simple as hate." Alysanne took a couple steps toward the open alcove nearby. Cassian would have to carry her from here. "He's my brother; I love him dearly, however either he brought harm to me or allowed harm to be wrought upon me when I depended on him for protection. I was a child, Cassian. I was barely potty trained when he allowed Thanatos to rip my wings out. I love him, but I also abhor him for failing me when I had no option but to rely on him." She waited, watching Cassian closely. He'd always been exceedingly loyal to Rhysand; Azriel had been the one to sway over the years. Her current situation required his cooperation. She had to be more hesitant in her wording.

Cassian stepped out onto the landing. His hazel eyes darted over her violet ones briefly before taking in the aerial view of Velaris. The city was quiet. The people below had no clue their High Lord had signed himself over to play attack dog on behalf of Hybern. In Alysanne's eyes, her brother had failed Night. He had abandoned his people. Rhysand had sold himself into Amarantha's servitude without so much as consulting his inner circle.

"Please, take me to my son, Cassian. I want to see Aristaeus. If Clymene sent him instead of Eris, then something has happened in Autumn, and I need to return." Alysanne's tone drifted from the cold venom of moments prior to the honest concern of a frightened female. She just wanted to go home, to her mate. They had spent hundreds of years opting to protect Aristaeus during times of tumult. She pleaded with the elder male. "Please." Her voice cracked a hair.

"You would desert Night entirely on the mere chance of a problem in Autumn?" He stalled, those observant eyes glancing over her form again. It was clear to Alysanne he was trying to recompense the child he'd known with the adult standing before him.

"Not for Autumn, no. But for my mate and our son and daughters? I would forsake all of Prythian." Her voice still teetered on unstable, but Cassian shied away from the certainty. His wings tucked tight to his body. One leather-clad arm crossed the other on his chest, and Cassian drew to his full height.

"Even Rhysand?" A pregnant pause. "Even Azriel and I?" The wind tossed the loose locks around his face. Cassian did nothing to stop them.

"All of Prythian, though I would feel some remorse for Azriel." His gaze shifted to the sky behind her. Cassian's wings unfurled, his posture changed again. He was readying himself for flight.

"Autumn has changed you." He spat. Those powerful wing swept, causing a wind to whip at Alysanne's torn gown. "Perhaps some time in Night would do you well."

In an instant Cassian dropped from the landing, a gust of wind smacking into her frame as he disappeared from sight. Without her consent, a ball of molten flame erupted and began dripping down her fingertips to the landing.

"Go to Hel, Cassian." She shouted after him, though Cassian was undoubtedly far enough away he couldn't hear. The flames began dripping over the edge of the landing. Alysanne willed them away. She didn't want any innocents below caught in the crossfire.

She glanced once at the expanse of air between the landing and the ground. Then back to the stairs behind her. With a grimace, Alysanne squared her shoulders and resumed the trek down.

She finally made it to the town house a considerable time later. Raised voices could be heard from outside the protective barrier. She knew the particular brand of snarl belonging to Cassian, a snark which had to be Amren's, but the final one made her double her pace. Aristaeus. Wild shadows swirled around her legs as she passed over the barrier. Alysanne couldn't care less about Azriel's monitoring right now, Aristaeus was in there with the people she'd sought refuge from.

"Look who finally joined us." Cassian greeted in mocking as she opened the door slightly harder than intended. The hinges squeaked under the additional stress.

"No thanks to you." She spat back. Alysanne had decided one thing on her trek down the stairs and to the town house: she no longer cared even an infinitesimal amount about the Night Court or it's inhabitants, with the exclusion of Azriel. "You abandoned me on the stairs knowing damned well winnowing wasn't possible."

"It's a pity you couldn't flutter away, like the rest of them." Amren shot Alysanne a vicious smile, her elongated canines on display. Alysanne shrugged off the barb. Her lack of wings had never hindered her before, why should it now?

She had a moment to take in the room, the people, those she'd once called family.

Cassian held such ire behind his hazel eyes now. The last time she'd seen him he'd only just begun forming laugh lines. Now those eyes were shadowed, haunted. He'd committed horrors to gain that semblance.

Amren had never been an easy read. She was beyond ancient. The female was a relic of a different time entirely. That much hadn't changed. Alysanne could feel the vitriol radiating from the small frame barring her from Aristaeus.

Then there was Azriel. His eyes damn near matched Cassian's in color, but held little of the same catastrophe within. She'd been in contact with him periodically. His darkened aura wasn't new. Alysanne had known each time Rhysand had forced him to commit another wretched act. Those kind eyes came back struck with darkness more and more.

Aristaeus stepped around Amren. The elder growled at his brazen manner. He wasn't phased. He'd been witness to Beron's bouts of horror, he'd borne his own portion of the abuse. Amren was inconsequential to him. Alysanne cautiously sidled to his mind, a tender caress before being granted entry.

"Get outside the barrier and winnow home. I'll follow once I can get away, but you go, now." She urged him. The fear in her voice was harder to disguise when using daemati gifts. Aristaeus knew the scowl on her face was for show. He stepped behind her, in front of the door, but no further.

"Aristaeus and I are returning home." The formal, Lady voice made an appearance again. "We are needed in Autumn. Sort out your own affairs. They are not mine to attend to. I've not been Rhysand's heir in 400-some years, not since defecting to Autumn and marrying Eris. My duties to Night ended then."

"You mean, since you ran away from responsibility and honor? Since you abandoned your Court? Your family?" The accusations from Amren stung. It wasn't anything Alysanne hadn't heard before. She was prepared. She let out a laugh, loud, thoroughly laugh.

"Family wouldn't have permitted atrocities committed upon me. Family wouldn't have stood silently as I was destroyed from the inside out. I've made my own family, forged my own niche in Autumn. The Night Court is a stain on my past, and you lot along with it." She didn't miss the sting of pain floating past Azriel's eyes. She didn't want to hurt Azriel, truly, but she had to divide them all as solidly as possible, with no room for negotiation. "My mate is the Heir to Autumn. My son is his heir. My daughters are each ladies of the court that raised them. That is where I belong. Not here."

Alysanne mentally prompted Aristaeus to open the door. He did. A rush of cold air breezed through the room.

"Azriel, thank you for keeping Aristaeus safe. The others would not have been half as capable. We take our leave." The pair exited the home. Alysanne gripped Aristaeus' arm tightly, winnowing them back to Autumn the instant they were over the barrier.

Aristaeus had survived the Shadowsinger, the General, and Amren. Her mate had taught him well.

When she approached the throne room, hair ragged and dress torn, Alysanne could hear muffled voices arguing. Beron and Eris, from the sound. She opened the massive cedar door uneasily. The heated words ceased.

"Alys!" Eris nearly growled. He looked a mess. He still wore the same clothes as he had when she'd been kidnapped, a swath of stubble crested his chin and jaw, dark rings circled his eyes. It didn't look as if he'd slept.

"Eris, my love." He crashed into her arms. Eris immediately began peppering her with kisses to every exposed piece of skin. Without warning, Eris scooped her legs out from under her. His scent was a balm after the prior days events. She wanted to spirit him away and sleep for a full day in his arms.

"Enough." Beron crawled across the room from his perch upon the throne. "Alysanne, I expect a full report on the events which transpired outside of Autumn by daybreak." She glanced out the arched windows to the sky outside. The hues were already shifting to purples from the blues and blacks of night. "Until the report is on my desk, you are to remain inside the keep." She nearly groaned.

"Yes, High Lord." Her head bowed. "Right away, sir." Eris sat her back on her own feet. Her legs ached, her joints screamed. The 10,000 stairs had been ruinous on her in more ways that one.

Alysanne and Eris made their way to their bedchamber near the Eastern wall of the House. There would be parchment and ink on the desk from Eris' late nights in meetings here. The scrap pieces would have to do.

When Alysanne and Eris finally collapsed well after daybreak that morning, she was utterly exhausted. Every inch of her body hurt. Her legs pained her to walk, her scars burned from the movement they'd been subjected to each time she'd stumbled on the uneven stairs. She felt wretched. While she slept fitfully, she dreamed of her brother, of Cassian and Azriel, all undergoing calamity in the years to come. Of course, they were only dreams, but Alysanne nearly wished they were prophecy.

—

Another 50 years would pass before she heard his name in any decent manner again. Alysanne had awoken the evening after returning to Autumn to guards sporting the Hybern insignia pointing swords at her chest, Eris bloodied and beaten in a heap on the floor. Rhysand grimaced before speaking.

"Amarantha wants you to serve as her Lady-in-Waiting, Alysanne." Rhysand had spoken before she or Eris either one had gotten their bearings. "She sent me to retrieve you." That had been the start of half a century of trials, tribulations, and torture for Alysanne who now bore the vestiges of a prisoner, confined to a cell deep within the mountain.

She'd long forgotten the crime worthy of imprisonment and deprivation of all sentient interaction. The iron and ash collar chained to her neck and wrists limited her movement severely. Alysanne would often go days without a morsel of food. Just when she'd begun to believe Amarantha had decided to allow her to starve to death, a tray of stale bread and watered-down soup would appear. It was only the chance of seeing her mate and children again that gave her hope enough to eat the fare.

Her days passed in shadowed darkness. The faelights would twinkle in and out at regular intervals to give the prisoners a sense of time. She'd watched countless souls perish in the cells around her. Males, females, children, high fae, lesser fae; not a soul in Prythian was safe from reign of terror. She grew weary of the death and damnation. The stench of rot had become her perfume. She clung to the fragile memories of her family and the constant tug of the mating bond. They were her only reasons for surviving.

Alysanne heard the wrought-iron gates to the cells open in the distance. It was midday, she guessed on the faelights currently illuminated around her. The cells in her block had been empty for the better part of a year. She hadn't had water in nearly a week; food for longer still. She barely had the strength to lift her head from the heap of rags she called a bed. Fire light bounced off the walls near the entrance. Alysanne buried her head back in the rags. They reeked of decay, but at least she didn't have to see the flickering lights that way.

Using torches had been a favored toy of Amarantha's. She'd seen Alysanne show the barest hint of emotion towards the flames once, and had since utilized them any chance she could to terrorize her. Alysanne had been burned to a crisp, only to be thrown back into a filthy cell more times than she could count. She'd seen flames carried by males she could have sworn were her mate, only to find out Rhysand had been planting images in her mind.

Alysanne rubbed her forearm uncomfortably against her bare hip. The recent cauterization was infected. Amarantha had discovered that while tattoos would not reappear on fae skin if removed, mating marks absolutely would. The bonding marks once resembling ivy trailing her left arm had become so marred as her skin had been shaved and melted off numerous times. Alysanne hoped for a moment for death before whatever activity the torch-bearer had planned. She was too weekend to move. Any more would end her.

Someone stepped near her cell. She tried to lift her head again, but couldn't. The effort causing stars to whirl behind her eyes. She was dehydrated, starving, and had a rampant infection poisoning her blood. Alysanne was nearly paralyzed until she heard a voice more familiar to her than her own.

"Mother above." Eris drawled from near the entrance. "Fan out. I want every cell searched. All prisoners are to be taken to the Dawn Court for medical evaluation. Is that understood?" A chorus of male voices called out an affirmative.

Alysanne had dreamt of that voice. She had fixated on his sound and scent as a crutch to survive upon. She tried to move, to call out, to do anything to alert the fae in the room where she was. She was the only one alive in there. They had to find her.

Her voice cracked as a barely-there "Help" emerged. The males searching the room were silent aside from the occasional boot shuffle. A boot stepped into Alysanne's line of site. "Please" she croaked out. The boot spun to face her.

"Alys?" A flame ignited as bars melted and molten iron pooled between the bricks. "By the Cauldron, what have they done? ERIS!" Strong arms hauled her broken form off the rags. "She's over here!" Alysanne vaguely recalled the scent on the male carrying her, though she couldn't place why.

"Mother above, my heart." Alysanne couldn't move her head off the male's chest. He carefully handed her over to Eris, supporting her neck and head as one might an infant. "What has she done to you?" Alysanne breathed in deeply. The scent of smoke, normally an afterthought, and undercurrent, stood out above the cinnamon and cloves. His leathers rubbed harshly against her tender skin. Alysanne could make out the insignia of the Aumtumn Court emblazoned upon his chest as tears began to tumble from her closed eyes.

In all the wretched variations of this exact scene Rhysand had planted into her mind, none ever managed to get Eris' scent right. None were capable of getting the calluses on his fingertips in the correct places. The cinnamon always held too much spice, the clove too woody. The smoke at the forefront she knew from the skirmishes Eris had handled during their time together. The smoke was perfect for when he'd been in battle, a facet Rhysand couldn't manipulate.

Her tears turned to sobs as another scent she knew better than her own approached. Fabric ripped somewhere behind her. The same smoke as Eris' after combat, but with hints of lavender underneath. She'd joked with him once that he smelled of incense burning. Aristaeus tucked a cape of burgundy and gold around her curled frame.

"Aris, send for Thesan." A crack in his voice, a break from the image of the General of Autumn, a message from father to son, "She hasn't much time." Alysanne heard the whoosh of flame, Aristaeus' permeating scent vanishing, then silence aside from Alysanne's uneven breathing and tears.

"Eris, there are no others living in this block." A voice broke the silence. She knew that voice from somewhere; a distant memory, perhaps? She felt Eris shift, his spine steeling and head holding high.

"Orders are this: search and rescue. Comb over every level of the dungeons for survivors. If you meet any resistance, lethal force is authorized. Atlas will take command. Lady Alysanne requires immediate medical support." Through the fog of tears, pain, and euphoria for rescue, she could hear Eris' fear creeping between his words. His tone was steady, that of the Lord he was, but she could hear the slight variations as he granted his younger brother command. Was she truly so horrible to see?

Alysanne's tears slowly began to ebb. Eris held the torn cape tight to her frame. Had he always been able to hold her so easily? Without a moment of hesitance or need for respite? She knew he was tall with broad shoulders, but he seemed too big. There was too much of him and too little of her. Her mind became a torrent as he carried her up stairs, down halls, through passageways, and to the makeshift medical unit now covering the main hall. Everything hurt, from the tips of her ears tucked close to his chest and shoulder to the toes brushing Eris' waist on occasion.

The collar and shackles bit into her skin. She wanted them off. She had to get them off, had to feel the rush of power through her veins just one last time. Alysanne rubbed a wrist with all the might of a newborn kitten against Eris' leather breastplate. She couldn't bear to speak after exhausting herself sobbing. She prayed to the Mother and the Cauldron that he would feel her through the armor. Her ribs ached with every shakey breath she drew. She couldn't focus on the voices speaking, couldn't tell who was near or far.

"Has anyone figured out how to get the shackles off yet?" Eris pleaded to anyone who could hear him. He embraced her still, his head wildly revolving from one direction to another, stealing glances at his mate bundled in his arms. "They're imbued with ash." Something wet dripped atop Alysanne's head. "She-she can't heal. Please. Anyone." More droplets fell.

In their centuries together, Alysanne could only think of a couple occasions where Eris had shed a tear. Beron had instilled a deep fear of tears in him at a young age that never parted. She couldn't speak, could barely breathe, but could send the softest wave of love through their bond. It wasn't much. It was all she could manage in her current state, but she sent a gentle surge to him as she managed to roll her head back and give him a sad smile.

The last thing Alysanne saw was sheer panic polluting the chocolate eyes of her mate.

The first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes was the breeze wafting through an open window nearby. Starlight pervaded the otherwise dark room, and a summer breeze alongside the light. Ivory curtains billowed across the room with each new gust. Alysanne took a deep inhale. Something of citrus weighed the air. She wasn't home, she wasn't in the Night Court. Most importantly, she was no longer in her cell.

The plush mattress felt foreign beneath her frame. The gauzy, cotton blankets were the first touch of softness she'd felt in a decade or longer, to say nothing of the feather pillows beneath her head. She raised her left arm, observing the marred and destroyed markings. What had once been reminiscent of ivy trellising the appendage now looked to be more akin to freshly cracked ice. The starlight hid the damage, but Alysanne knew what had occurred time and time again. She was well aware of how her mating mark appeared now. It would heal in time.

The hinges of a door creaked. Faelights twinkled to light, igniting the room in hues of gold. She could make out the Dawn Court's coat of arms on the opposite wall. The scent of cinnamon caught on the breeze. Alysanne jolted upright. Eris.

Another male she distantly recognized as the High Lord Thesan entered the room after Eris, both males rushing to opposite sides of the bed the moment they saw her sitting.

"Alys, my heart." Eris gripped her hands before pulling her into an embrace so tight she was likely to have imprints of his freckles across her cheeks. He only pulled away when Thesan coughed under his breath.

"Alysanne Vanserra, you frightened us all. Eris hasn't left your side unless I've forced him to." Thesan couldn't keep the smile on his lips from emerging. "You'll be weak for a while as your muscles rebuild, but you'll recover in time."

"When can we go home?" Eris asked, hope tinting his voice enough for Alysanne to switch her focus to him.

"As soon as you wish. The infection is gone. It was a matter of rest and Lady Alysanne waking up." The High Lord replied easily. His tone shifted a bit darker. "Although, reports from others Under the Mountain say she had been imprisoned and tortured for roughly a decade. While her physical health is on the mend, I cannot speak for her mind. That will take considerable time, Eris."

It was Alysanne's turn to speak up, her voice scratchy and rough from unuse, "I want to go home, to our cabin."

"You heard the Lady, High Lord." Thesan flashed a smile to Eris. Alysanne's eyes widened.

"Hi-"

"I'll explain later, but yes." He pressed his forehead to hers, a silent promise and guarantee that he would, in fact, be with her later to explain. "We can leave in the morning. For now, rest, please."

Eris started to pull away. Her hand shot up and gripped his forearm, her marred markings evident in the faelights.

"Stay with me." A plea. "I, I want to know you're real, that this is real, and you're here." Eris tried to mask the look of horror passing his face, but Alysanne knew better. "It's your scent. It's how I know."

"I'll leave you be." Thesan commented easily before exiting the room, a muttered thank you on Eris' lips.

The bed wasn't quite large enough for the both of them, but Eris made it work. He carefully curled his lanky frame around her too-small body, cradling her head above an extended arm. Her skin was pallid, cool to the touch. He tugged the blanket over her shoulders and began willing every ounce of flame in his body to warm her. Within minutes she was sleeping again.

Readjusting had taken… a while, to say the least. Nightmares plagued Alysanne's sleep, her waking moments were rife with stress from simple things. Eris had discovered early on not to do something so simple as light a candle with her near. Fires within Forest House were doused on the rare occasion she entered the keep, alongside any form of roasted meat. She often kept every faelight bright in her vicinity. Alysanne stayed glued to Eris' side no matter the time of day. He'd always been a grounding influence for her; he'd now become her lifeline.

Aristaeus had taken on many of the duties required of the High Lord while Eris nursed Alysanne back to health. The pair only emerged from their protected cabin when needs or decorum demanded them. Eris hadn't been able to explain the shift in power when Alysanne had asked again later on, only saying "Beron got in my way." Aristaeus, however, had been forthcoming with details.

Eris had been distraught when they found her. His younger brother, Atlas, had been the one to pluck her from the cell. Aristaeus claimed Eris had turned eerily calm, barely making a sound or speaking to others outside of shouted orders for medics once they reached the main hall. Then Beron had intervened. Beron had demanded Eris leave her behind, saying "Isn't it enough we've expended ourselves for Tamlin's whore? Must we for yours as well?" Aristaeus said what happened next was a bit fuzzy, but Beron fell to the floor, unable to move, screeching out in agony before combusting into pure ash. Some exchange had occurred when Rhysand had approached Eris afterwards, congratulating him on his newfound rank among the High Lords. To which Eris had threatened to reduce Rhysand to ash as well for placing them in this predicament in the first place.

Evidently that sentiment had been parrotted by the other High Lords captured Under the Mountain by varying degrees. The general consensus Aristaeus had drawn was that Rhysand, and by proxy the Night Court, were to never be trusted. Night had always borne a rough reputation from centuries of isolationism and the fierce patriotism shown by their armies. Now, though, the Night Court had become the pariah of Prythian. Eris had dissolved all lines of communication with Night, disbanded the treaties regarding safe passage for Night's citizens through his lands on the borders, and had ordered the Autumn army to kill any Night Court soldiers on sight. Winter had issued the same decrees before daybreak the following morn, then the other Courts followed suit to whatever extent they could. Aristaeus had taken on the brunt of the work for the time being. Eris would return to duty once Alysanne was stable enough to. Her progress was slow, but steady. Each day was better than the last.

When the summons arrived requesting all High Lords gather to discuss a discovered threat to Prythian, Eris refused to answer. Alysanne could hardly tolerate idle conversation with the Forest House staff. Any time he was away for long, she would grow frantic, her mind reverting to visions placed there by her own brother. Eris was aware her reliance on him wouldn't be healthy in the long term. But, for now, he was the one thing managing to hold her together. It wasn't until Alysanne happened to find the parchment on Eris' desk one afternoon that he even considered making the journey to Day.

"I want to go." She stated plainly. It was so rare for her to speak without her voice breaking, Eris hadn't realized it was his mate who had spoken up. She rested peacefully on his lap, head tucked beneath his jaw. Truthfully, he'd thought she was sleeping, as she tended to in these moments when they worked through the piles of paperwork requiring his signatures or insight.

"My heart, I do not believe entertaining the High Lords would be in your best interests at the moment." Eris pulled away from the desk, leaning back in his chair. Her eyes were unsteady, but a clear intent laid beyond the muddled mind.

"We can't risk anyone else being imprisoned. We can't stand aside and allow others to, to, to…." She trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. A shiver wracked her still too-small frame. Eris understood the direction of her phrasing well enough. She didn't want another soul to undergo the treatment she had. If there was a threat, she wanted to help.

It had been roughly 9 months since he'd rescued her from Amarantha. The pain she'd endured still had its claws gripped in deeply, but Alysanne couldn't fathom another fae being mistreated as she had been. His beautiful mate who couldn't handle the smell of roasting meat wanted to stop others from feeling her pain.

"Do you realize what you're asking me to do, my heart?" He'd asked softly, kissing the tip of her nose. "It would mean I'd be gone from Autumn, there will likely be war. You would have to see him again." Eris didn't dare say Rhysand's name. He didn't dare voice the concern of losing her again when he'd only just begun to really get her back.

"I do, Er." She fell silent, her usual state these days. "I-I'll be alright. I have to face him eventually." She whispered, her chin lifting high. Eris drew back far enough to meet her gaze again. Her violet irises had been so distant and clouded for so long. Seeing even an ounce of clarity in them was relieving.

"It won't just be him, Alys. It'll be everyone, from every Court. There will likely be arguments, petty squabbles, shouting. I won't be able to control what happens around us as I do here." A kiss to her forehead, more tender than he'd believed possible. "I cannot guarantee I can shield you from the things that send you back there should they be present everywhere."

"Eris," Her voice hitched and cracked, "If something is happening, we have to stop whatever it is before someone like her seizes power once more. I can't go back there. I can't." Without warning, tears began streaming down her face. The clarity remained, but terror soaked her vision. A muffled "I can't." sounded as she buried her face into his chest again. Eris sat down the parchment and quill he'd been handling to hold her. A hand tucked to her neck and another across her ribs. Alysanne was still too small, she still hadn't managed to regain much weight, but she was getting there. Each day that passed showed the tiniest hint of progress. This drive to protect herself and others was a massive leap compared to the baby steps of days prior.

"I'll send Atlas with our confirmation." His fingers flitted over her loose locks, brushing them gently. "We should go pack. The meeting is in two days time." A kiss to her crown.

It took Alysanne a moment to disentangle herself from his embrace. She wanted to stay there forever. Eris was her past, present, and future. He was her rock when seas were stormy. He cared for her with such tenderness and love, she would never know another like him. She didn't want to leave his side, but it was better to start with small distances in their home instead of him suddenly leaving for battle.

"I'll pack. You attend to your duties." Eris ticked a brow. "You won't be long. I'll be alright." She patted his shoulder then slid from his lap, her slippered feet meeting the cedar planks of the floor with a soft thud. "If I need you, I'll tug on the bond." A soft, half smile tugged on his lips. When Alysanne had initially returned to Autumn, she barely spoke, often utilizing their bond to communicate. He knew her every thought without her speaking a word by the way the bond pulled now. The last time she'd had a particularly nasty flashback, she'd been reduced to the fetal position and unable to speak, but could still tell him what happened.

While Eris appreciated the newfound ability to read her every thought and emotion, raw though they may be, he abhorred how they had developed. That ability should have developed organically over their lives together. It had been learned due to necessity instead.

"We don't have to do this, Alys. You don't have to put yourself through facing him or the horrors battle will bring." Eris reached for her hand. He brought it to her lips and pressed a tender kiss across her knuckles.

"Yes, we do." She responded quietly before pressing her own kiss to his knuckles. "I will not be a prisoner again. I won't let others be imprisoned. If Night is correct, if a battle-worthy threat is there, then we mustn't allow them even have that chance." Alysanne breathed deeply. "I won't go back, Eris."

"You will never go back, my heart. I won't allow it."

—

Alysanne had handled the meeting with the High Lords well enough, though she hardly spoke and resigned herself to play the hand she'd been dealt. She had been tortured for a decade, largely at the hands of her own brother. The sights, sounds, and smells of approaching war had surprisingly little effect, despite every fear her and Eris held. She'd managed to shut out the entanglement of her past with her present for just long enough to counsel her mate and meet the gaze of Rhysand's young, child bride.

Rhysand had not appreciated her referring to Feyre as such, despite never speaking those words aloud. Her thoughts ran rampant in this room of powerful males and females. She couldn't quieten them. She couldn't keep her walls raised while concentrating on not panicking each time the fireplace crackled. Alysanne left her mind wide open. She practically flung every vile thought she held for Rhysand across the table, knowing damn well he was listening. When she'd briefly begun to lapse into memory, Rhysand had been front and center in her mind's eye, the image of him pinning her down beneath his power to infiltrate her brain running high. She hoped he saw what she'd been reduced to and never slept again. She hoped her strength to attend this meeting proved to him that he would never be enough to harm her again.

Eris couldn't help but snicker when he caught Alysanne staring daggers at Rhysand, particularly when he caught Rhysand throwing a glare back her way. His mate, still so raw and tender from her ordeal, looked ready to kill on a whim. Once they found out whatever information Rhysand brought, he was tempted to let her. He'd help her, for all the pain the male had caused. For the time being, he took his time needling the Night Court with well-placed verbal barbs. He couldn't physically assault Rhysand under the temporary truce this meeting was held under, but he could piss him off. That would have to do for the meantime.

The evening after the meeting had been tumultuous. Alysanne and Eris had retreated to their room, unwilling to endure much more posturing. He quickly doused the fires. She visibly relaxed. Alysanne laid down on the plush bed, her hair falling loose from its braid as she closed her eyes.

"Are these summits always like this? The drama and bickering?" She questioned idly. Alysanne had been harboring a headache for hours. Eris couldn't help but laugh.

"This is relatively tame. I attended one once, where two heirs decided to run away and get married. Now that meeting was spoken of for some time to come." It was Alysanne's turn to laugh. He unceremoniously flopped on the bed beside her. "I believe you were in attendance for that event as well." Another laugh from both fae.

Alysanne broke into a fit of giggles. Pink colored her cheeks and nose as each laugh wracked her slight frame. Her violet eyes were hidden behind scrunched lids. She wrapped her hands over her midsection. A smile crossed Eris' face, wider than she'd seen in her life with him.

"Mother above, did we really cause that much of a stir in the upper echelons?" She managed to question between giggles, breathless, holding onto her stomach and her mate.

"There is a reason why once I realized you would be alright today, I started prickling Rhysand so. We weren't the ones causing trouble for once. It only seemed fair to become part of the problem. Maintain the reputation, as it were." It was Eris' turn to start giggling. He couldn't help it. Hearing Alysanne's laughter after nearly 51 years missing had healed something deep in his soul.

Alysanne broke out into another fit of laughter. It had been so long since she'd heard this sound, this melody. Their laughter together had been stunted the night Rhysand kidnapped her. She hadn't been able to achieve more than a smile in the last 9 months. The insanity of the situation wasn't lost on either of them. She was still in pain, still healing from the mental and physical wounds of her past, but this little moment carved a path forward for her, for them. Alysanne felt the bed beneath them shift with each new round of giggles, she could smell his ever-present cinnamon and cloves, and realized in an instant that she would make it through this mess. She would make it through because of him.

"Eris?" Their laughter banked as she spoke a tad awkwardly. He adjusted his stance to prop up on an elbow and gaze down upon her, a nod of his head prompting her on. "I, uhm, I think I might want to have sex again." His eyes widened in surprise. His free hand trailed her chin, tilting it upwards a hair for their eyes to meet.

"My heart, you don't have to. I'm perfect content-" He was hushed with her lips on his. Any touch outside of him merely holding her had been few and far between these months as Alysanne worked through her trauma. She hadn't given voice to the horrors committed upon her in their full extent, but Eris has pieced together the comments and reactions. He hadn't pressed the issues. He hadn't want to cause her more harm and instead opted to support her.

"My love, I want to." Her voice was soft, yet certain. Something had shifted in her today, something he couldn't quite peg. Seeing Rhysand again had reignited a spark deep within her. "I want to at least try." She blinked away a couple tears. Eris brushed away one of the stray locks laying atop her eyes. "If Rhysand is allowed to live happily with his mate, why wouldn't I be allowed to as well?" Her gaze drifted beyond Eris momentarily. "I've spent months prisoner to the past, Eris. I want you to help me recognize the present."

"Only if you are certain, Alys. I don't want to hurt you." Another tear crossed her cheeks. Eris wiped it away quickly. "But I would ask that you let me worship you, as the goddess you are. Allow me to show you the love you are worthy of." Another blink, another tear.

"Please, my love."

—

The war was a whirlwind, particularly given the lifespan of fae. The entire affair took a month, from the meeting on. Autumn's forces were rallied under Eris' command, with a specialized unit under Aristaeus and Astraea's joint command. Calliope aided the healers, lending a hand when cauterization was needed to staunch bleeding until further action could be taken. Selene remained in the Autumn Court, the last member of the lineage on the chance all of Eris' heirs, as well as himself, met an untimely demise. Alysanne aided the healers to the best of her abilities, providing balls of starlight to ignite the tents they worked tirelessly by and spent the majority of her time with the Illyrian females cooking, mending armor, and pitching in anywhere possible.

She had forgotten she herself was Illyrian, that her children were, in fact, Illyrian. The blink of her life when she'd had wings had been as a toddler and young child. Her children hadn't borne them. They had never known the particular brand of brutality accompanied by the Illyrian camps. Alysanne had managed to protect them better than she had been guarded, a feat she suddenly carried with pride while watching the battered females and children of warriors scuttle about the camp grounds.

It had been a lifetime since she'd last sat with her mother's kin on the outskirts of a battle camp, cooking and mending. The last time, she'd been a child they'd been tasked with minding her as Rhysand and their father fought against the Spring Court. Her father never returned. Her brother had returned not as her brother, but as the High Lord. Her mother and sister had perished en route to Spring with terms for a truce. Her entire family changed overnight.

The females around her whispered as she went about her work. She was the famed, truant sister of their High Lord, after all. The whispers were to be expected. What she hadn't expected were the barely-shielded looks of admiration from the younger females and children. One small girl took to trailing after Alysanne, asking her question upon question about life outside Illyria. Before long, a small cluster of children had accumulated, their respective female guardians with them, and Alysanne found herself the speaker of the hour.

Battle waged on. She knew because of their bond that Eris lived, but not the status of her children fighting. Flashes of white light from the distance alerted her, at the very least, to Astraea's continued survival. But Aristaeus? Flame brewed rampant across the field. She couldn't keep track of him. She was one of the hundreds gathered here playing support roles for the soldiers, one of many terrified beyond her wits for their family. Alysanne took one glance at the faces watching her curiously.

"Would you like to know my favorite holiday we celebrate in Autumn?" She plastered on a smile for the children, taking a seat in the mud so they might feel a tad more comfortable. "It's the Autumn Equinox." A nod to the adults as she took on the task of distracting the children, letting them know she would keep them under control. Many of the females departed, eager to return to their labors. A few remained, possibly because they did not trust her, or possibly because they themselves needed some smattering of hope to cling to.

Hours passed like this, with Alysanne and various children swapping stories of their homes and traditions. Some spoke of happy memories, others of their hopes for father's not to return from the battle. They all pained her in a way she didn't know they could. She'd shepherded them into a tent when the rain had begun, a crown of twigs and wildflowers woven by one of the elder girls atop her head. When night began to fall, she doubled down on her efforts to distract the children. Many were watching the returning scores for their brothers, fathers, and uncles. Alysanne scented the smoke and embers on her mate well before he approached the group.

Ash littered his hair, giving her a glimpse of what Eris may look like a thousand years from now. Grey and black speckled his normally bright hair, dampening and darkening the locks. Smears of blood and ash marred the dulled and dented facade of his armor. The deep, burgundy cloak adorned with Autumn’s emblem of a great oak tree in gold had been shredded at some point. Only a few shreds of fabric remained attached to the clasp affixed to his shoulder. She had never seen Eris look so exhausted. Eris always had energy thrumming through his veins. He never failed to impress her with his ability to continually work without rest, to shoulder on despite the wear on his body. A gash had been opened across his brow at some point. The blood, long since dried, had intermingled with his freckles. Alysanne wasn’t quite certain which was which. Another smattering of dried blood trailed into the part of his hair. She prayed to the mother, thanking her for her mate’s survival.

“Eris!” She cried out. It took her a moment to crawl out of the tent floor. She’d been on the level with the children for so long, her hips protested the movement. With his outstretched hand, she managed to do so. “Aris and Astraea?” She questioned before embracing him.

His armor was warm against her cooled skin. The weather hadn’t been easy today. The mud and rain had ruined her clothes and she felt worse than she had in some time. His armor shouldn’t have been warm, unless he was burning so hot it was radiating out. Eris had mentioned to her once, hundreds of years ago, that that could happen when he was nearing the limits of his power. She’d never been witness to the neverending chasm of his power even coming close to its bottom. If that was the case, she needed to get Eris somewhere private and strip him down. He needed to cool off immediately.

She began to lead him through the encampment to the circle of tents erected for the High Lords surrounding the war tent. They had a small tent with a pallet to rest upon. It wasn't much, but it would due. The closer they got, the more Eris slowed, his steps becoming shambles. His grasp on her faltered. Alysanne spun to watch as his tall, lean frame crashed into the mud, spatters spraying upon her as he landed.

Alysanne called out for a medic. Surely there had to be at least one housed within the tents of Prythian's leaders. She knew Thesan was otherwise engaged, but anyone would work.

She wasn't sure when her knees clattered to the ground, or when Rhysand appeared at her side. She’d been trying her darnedest to lift him. She managed to pull his head atop her lap. Rhysand looked nearly as battered as Eris. His wings drooped, nearly dragging the ground. Blood and ash crusted every inch of his skin exposed to the elements. She wagered plenty more was tucked beneath the edges of his armor. A couple of minor abrasions dotted his upper arms where the tiniest bits of skin showed between the pieces of leather and iron attached the vital tendons of his shoulders to the lower arms.

“I’ve got him.” was all the more Rhysand said before lifting the older male’s limp form into his arms and taking flight. Azriel appeared to her right, taking the same actions with her, knowing Alysanne would want to be with Eris regardless of the circumstance. She didn’t hesitate to take hold of his neck before the wind whipped coldly at their hair.

Rhysand had taken Eris to the healer’s tents. Scores of soldiers waited in ques to be seen for minor injuries. Only those on the brink of death were ushered through with haste. Eris had been carried to the portion of the tents under Thesan’s direct command immediately. Healers flocked to him, realizing a High Lord had been injured and set to work removing his armor and clothing.

“Find Aris. Please.” Alysanne begged Rhysand without breaking her stride towards her mate. There had to be more to this than simply burning out. Eris knew his limits. He had wielded immense power for well over 500 years. There was something more happening. Alysanne analyzed each piece of Eris visible. His skin was flushed, turning nearly pink in places as if he’d been in the sun too long. He had ash and blood crusted to him, obscuring bits of skin from clear view. The healers began washing away the muck, searching for a cause. “Find Aris. He has command of Autumn until further notice. Astraea will assume command of their shared post.” She glanced from her mate to her brother. “If it would please your Lordship to do so, that is.” She tacked on, an afterthought.

Rhysand’s eyes glazed over for a moment. He was communicating with someone. She wasn’t certain who, but someone. Or searching for Aris, she hoped.

“He’s on his way to the War Tent, Alys.” Rhysand informed softly. He’d been speaking with her son, then. Alysanne shrugged off the uneasy feeling at the thought of Rhysand infiltrating Aris’ mind, even if only for a moment to relay her orders. She’d rarely used her own daemati abilities with her children. She never wanted them to feel as if they didn’t have privacy. Rhysand doing so without hesitation was problematic for her.

Her pulse quickened.

It wasn’t just problematic. It was terror. Sheer panic gripped her frame. Her violet eyes flew open wide.

Was this all one of Rhysand’s wretched visions? Was Eris truly laying on a table under the care of healers? Why couldn’t she find his scent? His scent was always there. She tugged the neckline of her dress to her nose, breathing deeply and closing her eyes. Alysanne pinched the bridge of her nose with the fabric tucked tightly over it. The dress had been made from a set of their bedsheets in case this exact moment occurred. Perhaps not this exact moment, but a moment in which Eris wasn't there to help her. The din around her began to subside, the clutter of conflicting scents worked their way out. She breathed deep, taking in the cinnamon and clove, abhorring the smoke undertone all too present due to her surroundings. This was real. Eris was there, injured, and real.

Her eyes opened wide, then narrowed on her brother. She wanted to verbally assault him for the things he’d done but the pain crossing his face was enough. She could see the regret dancing behind his irises, mirrors of her own in hue. Nothing she could say would be worse than whatever rolled through his head while watching her work down from a panic attack.

"Go." Was her only vocalization to him. She pointed back towards the ring of High Lord's tents. "Go." Rhysand opened his mouth as if to speak, but Azriel placed a hand on his arm, garnering his attention.

"Now's not the time." Azriel's gaze flicked between the siblings. "If that was Feyre, would you be able to have that conversation?" Rhysand didn't respond. He simply slumped his wings to the mud, head temporarily slumping with them. A flurry of emotions sloshed through his eyes. Alysanne noted fear, grief, and loss among them. "Besides, Cassian wants our input on plans for tomorrow and my spies have reports for us. It can wait." Rhysand winnowed away with a snap of power, leaving Alysanne and Azriel watching the other.

"Thank you." She managed to choke out. Azriel nodded to Eris.

"Look for arrow wounds. Some intel suggested a poison had been distributed among high-ranking officials for use only on the high lords. He'll need someone to burn it out of his blood. It hampers their power. The arrows have a star-tip." A flash of shadow, and Azriel was gone too.

She turned back to the table where the medics were cleaning the wounds Eris had sustained during combat. Alysanne focused her vision, searching for star-shaped wounds. She'd nearly given up when she noticed an entry wound along his shoulder. The points were disguised within the freckles smattering the joint.

"There!" She called out to the healers, pointing to the exposed shoulder. "Right there in the freckles. It's a poison. The Shadowsinger said to burn it out." The healers looked to one another expectantly.

"Lady Alysanne, even if we can find a fire wielder cable of such magic, the prognosis is not kind." The eldest among them spoke up.

Tears erupted from her eyes. She still felt his end of the bond, weak though it was, present and bright. She could still feel his warmth, his light. So long as his heart continued beating, she would find a way to save him.

He'd managed the same for her not so long ago, had he not?

Alysanne brushed past the healers. They'd all stepped back from his table, their work done. The minor wounds had knitted back together, the burns bore the shining scale of freshly sundered flesh. She pressed a kiss to his temple.

Her magical abilities had been tenuous at best since being rescued. She was lucky to power faelights some days and could barely keep a cap on the emotional responses on others. She spoke a silent prayer to the Mother, begging for her guidance. Star fire was volatile. She and Eris had sparred and experimented over the years in an attempt to better understand her power. She knew it burned far warmer than his flames, but did not behave like his. The flow of star fire was nearly liquid. It would ebb and flow as she directed, never taking a set form unless contained. His flames would consume everything in their path. Hers would obliterate, leaving naught but shadow burns in their wake, if she so wished.

He was dead if she did nothing at all. If she attempted to burn the poison, and he still died, at least she had tried. At least she had given him every chance possible.

Alysanne placed her hand over the wounded shoulder. Her fingers trailed across the too-warm skin. She knew his body better than her own. She was his mate; she could not harm him. Alysanne pressed her forehead to his, closed her eyes, and delved into her power.

It had easily been half a century since she had taken a dive into her own well of power like this, for any reason. Surviving Under The Mountain (until Amarantha decided to toss her in a cell) had been on wit and merit alone, not her power, not her magic. Alysanne had forgotten the sheer depths. Her descent was rapid. She did not need a river, but a stream of flame. Within her well ran tributaries to Eris, Aristaeus, Astraea, and Calliope; bonds to each of them. Eris's tributary was the largest, indicative of their mating, she'd always supposed. The remaining three varied, each different in depth, flow, or width from the last. Each unique and perfectly suited to the child it attached to. Alysanne dove into the tributary linking her to Eris. If she were to save him in an act of love, the power of their bond would undoubtedly aid her.

Her fingers traced geometric patterns around the wound, channeling her power to that specific location. The moment the star fire began to leak from her fingertips, Alysanne heard gasps from behind her. She couldn't be bothered with the opinions of the gallery. Eris, her Eris, her mate was beneath her fingertips and needed aid. She willed the smallest leak of flame into the wound.

A putrid stench filled the tent. Something sweet tinged the scent, something purely chemical and vile stole the focus, with smoke ever permeating the whole affair. She willed the flame deeper by an inch. The poison held his veins hostage, possibly his heart. She would have to work quickly.

"You are his mate, Alys. You cannot hurt him." A voice whispered to her from several tents away. Not Rhysand's voice, but one lyrical and feminine; Feyre. "You can do this!" Feyre chimed out as easily as she had in.

Alysanne was his mate. She could not hurt him.

Alysanne decided in a snap to let her flames take the forefront, sending them searing throughout his body. Muscles twitched as each appendage came under fire. She couldn't stop until the poison was gone, until she knew he would survive. She had to save him. Eris was her mate, for Mother's sake. She wouldn't let him die.

"Alys?" His voice was trodden, rough from whatever he'd been through all day. Quick as a wink, she withdrew the flames, cauterizing the initial wound as she did. His eyes fluttered open. An audible gasp sounded behind them. Alysanne couldn't care less. Eris was awake, his heart was beating, and he was breathing. He was alive.

Not a soul could have stopped her from launching herself onto him to plant kisses on every inch of skin bared to her. It didn't matter if the King of Hybern himself walked into the tent right now. Her mate was ALIVE. She hadn't noticed the tears streaking down her cheeks, or the way Eris gently wiped them away. He'd nearly lost her the year prior. He knew exactly how she felt.

"If you ever come back to me in that state again, Eris, I will kill you myself." She choked out between sobs, smacking his chest in emphasis.

"My heart, to cease living by your hand would be to know bliss one final time before perishing."

—

The remainder of the war passed quickly. Eris, due to the after effects of the poison, was unable to fight in the following days. He hardly had enough strength to walk. It took months for him to fully return to fighting shape.

In that time, Alysanne was by his side every moment. She refused to allow anyone else to care for her mate. He was hers, as dictated by the Mother. In caring for him, she found strength once again. Alysanne regained the grasp of her power she'd lost years prior, managed to work through the things which left her a quivering mess, and eventually confronted Rhysand.

The confrontation hadn’t been intentional. He had reached out to her in a time of need, begging for her help, offering anything she could possibly want in exchange for access to their archives and libraries. It seemed he was searching for a way to save his own mate’s life, though he wouldn’t simply state the reason. There were precious few reasons Rhysand would be willing to prostrate himself to who he deemed a lesser High Lord, leading Alysanne to divine Feyre’s affliction almost immediately. She hadn’t been willing to allow him unfettered access to the throne room, let alone any tomes which might grant him information useful to fighting for Feyre when he had a lifetime of precedent behind him saying how little he cared for the lives of ordinary females in identical predicaments. She outright refused to aid him without a bargain struck ensuring any helpful information discovered would be shared with Illyrian healers, and a clause stating he would eradicate wing modifications. Alysanne had been one of hundreds attending the soldiers during the Battle of Hybern, all of whom walked with a slump or braced their backs and shoulders when a chill wind blew. She was one of the lucky ones. Her wings had been removed entirely. Too many had been clipped, and left with muscles unable to support the immense weight on their backs, leaving their wings to drag in the mud and constantly be sources of pain and infection. How Rhysand had allowed the tradition to continue was beyond her.

Much to Alysanne’s surprise, Rhysand agreed to her terms without pause. He assured her Cassian would have orders within a fortnight to issue among the soldiers for how to handle those accused of wing modifications, beginning with those in Ironcrest who had removed hers hundreds of years prior. She hadn’t asked for retroactive measures, but would not deny Rhysand the opportunity to right the wrong.

They spent the next three days scouring texts for any mentions of successful, Illyrian births, neither discussing what they went through Under the Mountain. Rhysand watched as each of his nieces and nephew visited to check up on them throughout the days, adults he had never gotten the chance to know due to his own arrogance and ignorance. He watched the way Alysanne still flinched when someone motioned near her face or when fire crackled loudly in the hearth central to the library. He observed the simple comings and goings of those who lived in the keep, the guards who maintained sight on their Lady at all times, and the sheer devotion both she and Eris poured into the other every single chance they could. Hardly an hour went by without the two of them whispering to the other, pointing to lines or images in books with comments of “Eris, I found your baby portraits” while barely restraining giggles or “This sounds familiar, doesn’t it, my heart?” inducing a flush of pink to his sister’s cheeks before she swatted Eris’ hands. He silently took in every interaction between his sister and realized how wrong he had been to ignore her attempts to reach him over the years. He had been exempt from her entire life.

On the third day, when the librarian and scribes had turned over the final tomes for skimming, Rhysand broke the silence that had enveloped them. Alysanne had been content to continue on as if he weren’t there. She had fully intended on escaping before any farewells could be made. Rhysand sat across from her at one of the large tables overlooking an expanse of forest outside. The fire nearby crackled softly, warming a kettle for tea. He discarded yet another series of books all dictating the same outcome: Feyre and the child would perish. His family would cease to exist excepting the sister across from him. The sister he had discarded with less emotion than the texts piled up on his left.

“I’m sorry.” The words carried more emotion than two words had any right to bear. “I am so sorry for everything, Alys.” She pulled her gaze away from the book at hand to look at him. “For every single thing I have been responsible for in your life, I am sorry.” Alysanne dropped her gaze back to the book before marking her page and sitting it aside. Her gaze remained fixed upon the book's amber, leather bindings.

“Does your sorrow stem from an urge for recompense or because you want to stifle the fires you created throughout your life before losing your mate and child ends you as well?” She spoke plainly and without malice. Alysanne wanted the truth from him. Her violet eyes met his.

“Does it matter?” He replied. A flare of anger flashed behind his eyes. That was answer enough. His apology was beneficial only to him.

“Yes.” Alysanne pushed her chair back and stood from the table, smoothing her dress in the process. The coronet braid she nearly always wore had come undone in places while reading today. She would have to correct the plait before attending the dinner with their courtiers tonight. Her mug had been empty for a while. The library kept her favored teas in tins along the mantle. She took the steps to the mantle and carefully brewed another cup.

“I don’t want to die knowing you loathe me.” Rhysand admitted quietly. She nearly broke out laughing. Alysanne faced the mantle, watching the flames jump from one spot to another, her back to Rhysand.

“I have never loathed you. I have adored you, I have loved you, I have respected you. But loathing? Never. Every single time you were sent to torture me, I had hope you would turn on her because some small part of me still looked up to my big brother to save me. Of every emotion I have ever felt toward you, the most overwhelming one is disappointment, Rhysand. It is better to live life without a constant pit of sorrow and despair. Healthier.” She paused to mull over her next words. “The most tragic portions of my existence are tied to you. If you die, know your death wouldn’t accompany my loathing. I’d be like to rejoice. I would be free of your specific flavor of wretched sorrow.”

“And if I manage to do the impossible? If Feyre, the child, and I all live?” She hadn’t heard him approach. His voice was nearly crawling up her neck.

“I’d never be so vindictive to not wish your mate and child well, if that is your concern. They are innocents. They do not deserve to be judged upon the basis you do or for the crimes you've committed." She turned to face him, mug still in hand. The aroma of lavender bloomed as steam swirled between them. "Eris has left the matter to my discretion entirely. He would sooner see your empire crumble for your sins. He left the decision to donate a droplet of power for your revivification to me. Rest assured knowing I held your life in my palm and could not fathom forcing young Feyre to endure agony such as losing you would cause."

Silence fell between them. An admission had been made that Rhysand had not been privy to prior to this conversation. His pupils were wide, though Alysanne wasn't certain if that was due to shock or fear. His entire life came down to her aptitude for empathy.

"Our archives have been exhausted of their medical stores, Rhysand. Return home and spend what time you have remaining with your mate." Alysanne took a sip of the tea. It was still a tad too warm for her liking, but would due.

He left soon after.

—

The final time in her life she would hear his name spoken aloud would come from her own voice, though she would not realize she had called out for her mate or that he had not answered. It was exceedingly rare for high fae to die of old age. They generally died in conquest or whilst settling old scores. Eris's death sometime after his thousandth birthday hadn't been surprising to those he was close to. The male had declined slowly, for nearly a century. He'd even gone so far as to step down from his tenure as High Lord and pass the reins to Aristaeus when he'd realized what was coming. The shocking addition had been Alysanne's demise not occurring soon after.

True mates, those who shared a bond and love between them, did not cope well once one had passed. While Alysanne had been no stranger to grief and longing without him, she knew well enough the Mother had blessed them with longevity few saw. They had seen their own children begin to grow old! She had been by Calliope's bedside for the birth of their first grandson while Eris consoled Calliope's mate (a thoroughly flustered Tarquin) in the hallway. They had watched as a dozen grandchildren were brought into the world, spoiling each one rotten when they could. She had watched her mate's hair fade from his defining red to an ashen hue nearly as white as the snow and lines develop across his face, marking the years of laughter and love in her embrace.

Alysanne had grown reclusive in the years since Eris's passing. Their cabin held many happy memories of her mate. They had brought their children into the world within the four walls he'd built, they'd raised their children and half of Eris's brothers there. When Alysanne pictured home, she pictured the cabin, with the benches beneath oak trees and a constant stock of books to read and yarn to crochet. The cabin was home because the cabin was Eris.

She hadn't spoken to her children or grandchildren of the bone-deep weariness she'd felt in recent months tugging her away from Forest House. Aristaeus had demanded she stay where guards could keep an eye on her at all times. He'd recognized the signs that she was fading, just as he had in his father three decades prior. He wanted her to stay where someone would be with her.

High Fae didn't age properly, like other species of fae or humans. They maintained a youthful appearance, but small things faded when the end was near. Eris's defining change had been his hair; Alysanne's had been her mind. When Aristaeus had caught her hosting a full conversation with a long-lost Eris in her empty chambers, the ruling came down that she wasn't to leave Forest House without express permission of the High Lord. He could ensure her safety within the keep. He could not, however, hamper her power.

Night after night, Alysanne would winnow home. The wards on the cabin prevented guards from following or finding their home. Eris had been thorough when placing them. Each morning she would meet Aristaeus, Astraea, or Selene at the door, her ashen locks perfectly braided in a coronet, and a gown from the depths of her charmed wardrobe adorning her frame. The dresses were often relics of a bygone fashion, with puffed sleeves, tight-cinched waists, and floral embroidery along the cuffs and hems.

When she arrived in the cabin, she took the same series of steps each night. Alysanne would take in the initial scent of their retreat. The cabin always smelled faintly of cedar from the furniture with the lingering arc of their own scents mingling into the fabric. She'd then take the stairs to the sleeping quarters upstairs, taking a moment to glance into each room. Two rooms sat on either side of the hall with the master suite on the far end. Her children and her mates brothers had once roamed these halls. Toys littered the rooms, swords and shields were stacked precariously. Remnants of them all remained, whether they be old clothes and armor, makeup, or bathing supplies. Her babies had been raised here. Alysanne would stop by each doorway, as if she were able to glance into the past, to the babies she'd once raised within these walls. Her final move would be toward the master suite, where she had spent many of her favored hours with Eris. Alysanne would eventually remove whatever clothing she wore before crawling into their large bed and breathing in the one place which still held Eris's scent decades later before falling asleep.

This final night, she didn't bother waiting by each doorway. Alysanne knew she wouldn't awaken the next morning. In her heart, she knew. She'd dreamt of her mate coming to walk her home more frequently of late. Last night, he'd held her closely and whispered a promise of tomorrow. She knew, without a doubt, her day had finally come. Alysanne loved her life, her children and grandchildren, but her soul yearned for her mate every day since his passing. The night prior, when she'd heard his voice in her dreams as plainly as his final 'I love you', her soul had leapt. She had awoken knowing she would see him again. So this night she didn't wait, didn't glance into the past. Alysanne nearly sprinted to their bedroom.

She changed into an old gown, one Eris had tailored for her birthday after Selene's birth. The fabric was worn with age and wear, the color having faded from lavender to nearly grey over the years. The gown had been one of Eris's favorites. He'd claimed the lavender brought out the violet in her eyes and brightened the ashen tones to her hair. Alysanne climbed into bed, as she always would, with her head tucked deeply into his pillows. Her violet eyes closed and Alysanne drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Some time later, a breeze drifted in through a window Alysanne had not opened. The autumn wind flitted pleasantly over her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically. Alysanne awoke to the scent of cinnamon, cloves, and smoke on the breeze. In her addled state, she spoke one word before the rise and fall of her chest ceased.

"Eris."

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