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Chapter Text

King Dagdan and his sister Brannah were getting impatient. There was not enough of the book to control me and there was not enough motivation for me to help them.

So after just a few weeks of being in the Castle of Hybern, they loosened their control. I could move my eyes and speak, but everything else was under their power. I marveled at the ounce of freedom I was given. Why?

The answer came soon enough. I was invited to dinner and wore a lovely gown and done up in very accentuating makeup and jewels.

Dagdan smiled widely at me as I entered the dining room, “Lady Elain,” He pulled the chair out for me.

Of course, I sat. Not that I had any choice in the matter. I couldn’t even nod in hello or make a frown. Brannah was sitting as well, but as usual, would remain silent. Letting her brother speak for both of them.

Dagdan sat, “I’m afraid that we got off on the wrong foot before. In my haste, I saw you as a thief, little more than human, even. I was wrong.”

I could speak, yes, but I said nothing.

“Let’s start over, shall we?” He raised a glass and I raised mine, “To a new relationship. May we find each others’ company pleasing.”

What the fuck did he mean by that?! I sipped the wine and set it gently back on the table.

“So from here on out, I will grant you more and more freedom. Until I can trust you, yes?” He crossed his fingers, “You understand that I can’t simply let you free while you not only contain the power of the Cauldron but also were the target of my father’s aggression?”

“How can I earn your trust, then?” I asked cooly. He was pleased by my words, the first words I had spoken since… Hell, I don’t know. 

“We can start small,” The servants came in and began delivering us plates of food. Nothing like the banquets held in Spring. I unwillingly began cutting up my food and eating. Dagdan waited to continue until we were alone again, “For each thing you do for me, for each thing you tell me, I will grant more and more access to you. Not just in body, but power in the palace. A place. A role. A part of my Court.”

He took a bite of food and I considered it while I ate. Harmless for now, right? I couldn’t expect that anyone would come for me. Not with the position I was in. It may be months yet. Years. Amarantha reigned for fifty… My niece and nephew would be all grown up… A tear specked my eye at the prospect of missing… everything.

“First, tell me, Lady Elain, how you came to have the power of the Cauldron.”

He didn’t make me. He could have. He probably already knew. But it was a gesture, I knew. And I had nothing to lose from speaking my truth. So when I was given a break from eating, I said, “I was charged with hiding the Cauldron, perhaps to even make use of it to remake the Gods of Death in Prythian. So I communed with it. Spoke to the being that it is. Made a bargain. It thinks I am its mother. Maybe even the Mother. All it wanted was to be near me. Quite certainly nothing else. And in exchange, I would be able to control its power. Unlimited, save for the book, of course.”

A wicked smile grew on Dagdan’s face, “Thank you, Lady Elain. That was very useful. And in exchange…”

My head nearly rolled from the sudden control. I would wiggle my nose, my ears, make expressions. It may make eating a little awkward now. I would have to play the game of control with him.

“When do I get control of my arms and fingers?” I scowled as they began slicing another piece of meat.

“Show us what the Cauldron grants you,” Brannah whispered, “Show us what power you are capable of.”

I had tried to free myself of the cognitive prison in the past weeks… to no avail. Without the Cauldron to assist me, I had no idea how to control the power it afforded. I supposed I hadn’t tried winnowing. I wondered if I could, even while enthralled.

Dagdan leaned forward in response to my thoughts. It was a threat laced with curiosity. He wanted to see what I’d try.

And so I pictured the steps of the Spring Manor. I pictured the exact spot I would land. I pulled and pulled at my power, aiming… maybe a little more for good measure… And launched…

The grand table before us vanished. An explosion of clattering dishes and decorations sounded as the large support was no longer there.

Brannah scowled and launched to her feet. Her dress was completely stained with drink. Dagdan roared with laughter. 

My fork clattered to my lap, a slice of meat still speared. I flexed my fingers and stretched my elbows. Oh Gods… I’ve wanted to do that for such a time.

Brannah snapped her fingers and her outfit changed.

Dagdan rose to his feet, “That’s enough for today, darling Elain,” I rose as well. No legs yet. “You will go to your chambers for the evening. Simply ring the bell if you would like someone to bring you entertainment. Books, music, dancers, whichever you prefer.” Dagdan waved his hand dismissively and Brannah joined him as they both departed. I headed up to my room.

—

I arrived in the city surrounding the Castle of Hybern, but my request for an audience hadn’t been received. So I simply waited… and waited… eager for a response. Every day was torture. Every day I wondered what they were doing to her or if she was even alive anymore. Elain. My Mate. In the clutches of two Daemati enemies. I had had enough.

So one morning, I headed to the castle. Of course, I was met my a few high fae guards who stopped me.

“Business?” One asked wearily.

“I’m here to see King Dagdan and Queen Brannah. I have sent advanced word of my arrival.”

“Who are you to request their audience?”

“I am Lucien Vanserra, Emissary of the Spring Court of Prythian.”

The other guard held up a tiny page and swiftly glanced over it, “You are not on their schedule for today. Begone.”

“I have been here for weeks,” I demanded, head raised high, “I will no longer wait idly by. You will personally remind them that I grow impatient.”

“A message will be sent,” The first guard said while the second held back a laugh, “You will wait. No exceptions.”

“Make a–”

“No exceptions!” The guard slammed his spear down as he interrupted me. I glowered. So it was going to be like that, hm?

I left, and when I was outside their line of sight, I began making note of the walls. I would need to find a way in. With or without official business.

So for the next week, I wandered around the castle, spoke with serving staff, and made to find a loose way in. Something obscure. A couple ideas formulated, but I needed to make sure that whatever I did would allow me to leave with Elain. Safely. 

As the rain poured around me, rolling off my jacket, a voice sounded next to me, “I’ve noticed ya’ watchin’.”

I glanced at him, then grunted. 

“Haven’ ya’?” He asked, “Lookin’ ta make a dishonest days earnin’?”

A thought occurred to me, so I obliged his time, “What makes you say that?”

“Ya’ve been here fer days,” The faerie chuckled, “Wanderin’ around the castle, lookin’ fer a way in. I know a way in.”

Trick? I was careful, “How would you know that?”

“I make it my business ta know it.”

“And is your business… dishonest?”

The faerie smiled deviously, “In an honest way.”

“What will it take for you to share what you know?”

“A cut,” The male winked, “And yer silence on the matter, of course.”

My lips tightened, “You might know… That I’m here for something other than riches.”

He gave me a questioning look, “Why not? At least skim a ‘lil off the top for ‘lil ‘ole me.”

I finally returned his wicked smile, “Sure. Why not.”

Chapter Text

“Feel your power,” Amren guided my meditation with gentle command, “Embrace your core. What element sings to you, Nesta? What can you do with it? Take just a tiny amount… The smallest drop… And… Release it to the candle.”

I opened my eyes, wild with intense concentration. But nothing happened. I reached for the candle, clutching it to see if it had changed temperature or state. And it was just a candle.

“Ugh,” I tossed the candle back to the table, “I’m no good at magic. Maybe I was meant to just chop off heads of villains.”

“If you keep thinking like that,” Amren was not amused, “You will get nowhere with your power. If you do not learn to control it, girl, you will end up hurting someone you care about.”

“It’s been almost two years since I was re-Made,” I groaned as I sat back, “Don’t you think that if I were going to explode with power, it would have happened by now?”

Amren stood the candle back up from its toppled state, “Try again.”

I gritted my teeth and sat forward. I stared daggers at the candle and reached for my core in the center of my being. The icy hot well of power was like molten silver in my hands… Useless. I willed it to do something. To just… do something. I clasped the power and it slipped out of my cognitive palms like gravy. 

I roared with frustration and threw my hand out to the candle in a solid grasp, “Just do something!”

The wick roared to life with a jet of flame nearly an arm's-length high. I gasped and dropped the candle back to the table. It toppled to its side, so I reached out again to set it upright and prevent the table from burning.

But the candle was cool to the touch, the flame was silver and purple. I repositioned it and stared at the flame until it shortened to merely a tiny glow.

“Incredible…” Amren whispered beside me, “You have the power of enchantment.”

“What does that mean?” I replied in a soft breath.

“It means, Nesta, that you can convert ordinary items to those of pure power. This candle,” She pressed her fingers to the flame in an attempt to stifle it, “Will never go out.” She released the wick and it started to glow with purple embers, and a tiny flame appeared.

“What does that mean for Ataraxia?” I considered my sword, the slayer of two near-Gods.

“It will cut through anything,” Amren declared, “Possibly even the soul itself. Granting permanent, pure, and true death.”

“I’m like a magic craftsman,” I cocked my head in contemplation, “I could make something akin to the Dread Trove.”

“You could,” Amren stared at me with firm command, “You will not. Is that understood? Do not attempt to enchant anything more than items of opportunity. Menial chores. Small tasks.”

I waved a hand at her, “You really think I would?”

Amren’s eyes were cold, untrusting, “I hardly know you, Nesta Archeron. You may have won the favor of Cassian, but I will not give my own trust so freely.”

I stood, bristling with annoyance. I was done with the conversation, “Is there anything else you want from me today?”

Amren gestured to the door and turned back to her pile of paperwork, “Go.”

I left the candle and departed Amren’s apartment to find Emerie or Hella or someone who actually liked me. Though Cassian and I had admitted feelings for each other, the actual mating bond hadn’t clicked into place. And without that, we grew suspicious of each other. Who was holding back? Was it me? Because I certainly had my worries and concerns. But maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe it was Cassian. Perhaps he was still untrusting of my love and dedication. If he wasn’t before, he certainly was now. 

We had hardly spoken in the weeks since Elain’s capture. He was off doing his own thing, probably trying to get over the failed mating between us. I was angry. Pissed off that the words I tried so hard to say didn’t actually do anything. I was frustrated… and I missed him.

“Nesta!” I turned from my march to the House of Wind, the stairs I would have to climb to reach it, and found Gorga rushing towards me. She was a new recruit to the Valkyries. Just started six days ago.

“Gorga,” I waited for her to catch up, “Come to try the ten-thousand steps again?”

For us Valkyries, the first step in training was to climb the stairs to the House of Wind. If that could be done, then it proved that the female had enough dedication and strength to officially start. 

Gorga reached me and nodded, “Yes. I think I can do it this time. I was at four-thousand-two-hundred-four yesterday.”

“If you can make it to five-thousand,” I smiled encouragingly, “Then you can make it the other half up.”

The fae hoisted her pack, belongings for her stay at the House during training, “My thoughts exactly.”

We began climbing in silence. Better not to waste energy speaking. I could spare it– I had made this climb hundreds of times at this point– But I didn’t want to disturb Gorga’s focus. And alas, we made it to step five-thousand. To my pleasure, Gorga didn’t break pace. She simply kept climbing. Good girl. It would be hard to start again after stopping. Momentum was important.

And when we reached the top, Gorga lunged for the intentionally-placed couch on the landing. And collapsed. I smirked and poured her some water. 

As I handed her the cup, I said, “Congratulations, Gorga. Your training starts in the morning.”

Gorga weakly chuckled and I left her to instead go to the training ring. But unfortunately, none of my Valkyrie friends were there today. Perhaps they felt it was too brisk. But I didn’t mind. Pulling out a practice sword, I began performing warm-up maneuvers.

An hour passed. A smell graced my nostrils, the scent of… Cassian . I turned to face him and lowered my sword.

He stared at me a moment, testing my reaction before making a move. I raised my sword to a challenging stance. He shifted in response and began circling me. My feet moved to keep the distance between us even. We circled like predators, senses heightened, until he reached for a practice sword as well. He flipped it in his grip.

Our circling spiraled closer. Closer… And when he was within appropriate striking distance, I attacked in a vertical-upward-swing. He parried, countered, and our steel clashed in a flurry of combat. We dueled for some time before it got physical. We began pushing, leg-sweeps, pommel-bashing, even kicking up dirt. Neither of us would yield. At some point, I even pulled another sword into a duel-wield. Cassian smirked. That… that smirk .

Fury blossomed in my chest. It was like he was making fun of me. Eager to prove him the fool, I pushed harder in the attacks. He defended well… And it pissed me off. Without thinking, I speared a sword at him and lunged in a follow-up attack.

He batted the flying sword from the air and disarmed me with an easy twist of the blade. As a result, I was in his arms. He had grappled me, so I kicked to bring him off balance. But he was so much bulkier than I. I got closer, dirtier, and began lunging my head towards him in a bite at his neck. It wasn’t strict, not hard enough to draw blood, but it was enough to pacify him. His grip loosened.

I flipped at the advantage and tackled him to the ground. In an instant, I was on top of him and binding his wrists with my hands.

I knew he could win if he wanted to. But our position… the familiar scents… Our faces were close and we were panting from the brutal duel. It was… It was… I struck one last time in a brutal kiss. Our tongues thrashed and teeth scraped. A growl escaped him and he pushed back. We twisted and then he was on top. I felt his hips on my loosened legs, the hardness ground against me. I gritted my teeth.

“Do you yield?” He asked darkly, sensuously.

Fuck . I clamped my lips shut. I knew that if I spoke, it would be in affirmation.

He leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Do you want it, Nesta?”

It was all I could think about. Whatever anger I felt towards him for disappearing melted away. He sucked my earlobe, licked at my neck, along my jaw, and pressed harder against me with his hips. 

“Yield to me,” He tempted, “And I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I…” I gasped, “I yield.”

I was his prey, he was the hunter. In a single, graceful movement, Cassian lifted me into his arms and carried me to his room. I felt his chest, smelled his desire, and began kissing at his exposed shoulder and neck.

When we got to his room, he kicked the door shut and set me down. We both stripped, even helped each other to get the clothes off faster, until we were entirely naked. His body, his perfect form. I throbbed for him and licked my lips.

But before I could grab at him, he tackled me onto the bed. We tossed and turned, fighting again for dominance. Our grips went everywhere from hips to shoulders… We rubbed and teased sensitive parts, tasted the pleasure that dripped from our flesh. I was burning with lust and passion for him. The weeks away were too long. Too long… Why did he leave me for so long? It was unacceptable. I’d make him regret it. Make him cry out my name and worship me.

And he did. 

—

After a few hours, climaxing once, twice, we finally collapsed onto each other. 

“Never leave again,” I panted with the limited breath I could muster into words.

“Never again,” He whispered.

“Where did you go?” I clutched his chest with my fingers, a firm grip of punishment.

“Hybern. Reconnaissance.”

“Without me?”

“I’m sorry,” He clasped my angry hand in his, a gentle grip of apology, “I was… angry. And it’s not a good excuse.”

“I’m sorry…” I regretted how I had acted when we last saw each other. How we fought…

“It isn’t your fault, Nesta…” Cassian sighed, “I suppose sometimes the bond doesn’t snap…”

But I felt it. Even now, I felt the many golden threads between us. They were frail. They just needed… I tugged at the bond, tightly.

His eyes snapped to mine and I met his hazel gaze with such intensity. I pulled again, harder, testing the strength of our connection.

“I love you, Cassian,” I breathed.

“I love you, Nesta,” His responding whisper was agonized and passionate, “ Fuck , I love you so much …”

A few of the threads twisted. Strengthened at the meaning. The truth in those words. But it still wasn’t enough.

“What is wrong with us?” I had poured over it continuously in my mind. It kept me up at night. It made me quick to anger and quick to isolate. I wanted him so much, but it was like there was some truth that hadn’t been embraced. Something one of us needed to accept.

“Nothing is wrong,” Cassian replied as he stroked my hair, “Bond or no, it doesn’t matter. We don’t need it.”

“I would kill for you,” I thrust out the words as if in a challenge to the golden Mating bond.

“I would go to war for you.”

“I would run away with you, leave all of this behind.”

“I will always be by your side.”

I then realized what the problem could be, a thought breaching to the surface from the back of my mind . But I didn’t tell him what I suspected. Instead, I nuzzled into his warmth and whispered in a near beg, “We don’t need a Mating bond.”

He clutched me close, ever patient and ever willing to support me.

Chapter Text

I melded into the shadow, quietly moving among the tents of the warcamp. A trained eye might notice my more solid form among them, so I took double measures and made sure no one was actively watching. I dashed between hiding spots and I made my way to the largest tent. Briallyn’s tent. Weeks of surveying the site, monitoring movement, and planning a breakin led to this moment: she would be gone for a while.

I instructed some shades to keep watch and I dexterously maneuvered in. The tent was comfortable and decorated with enough furnishings to answer any soreness from travel. There was a large tub, a couch, a luxurious bed, a fire pit, and everything a royal could ever ask for while camping. But I wasn’t here for the comforts, though they did seem tempting after months of subterfuge. I spotted my first objective and hurried to the writing desk. Letters were neatly organized into piles.

Most of them were from scouts who reported on various human domains within the area of land Briallyn ruled. I skimmed those, but few provided anything of use. Interesting letters reported on ancient fae spellbooks, discovered weakpoints in the wall, and correspondences from spies. 

I quickly took out my notebook and summarized the contents. From the spies, I copied it word for word. By the time I had finished, the shades had reported no movement. There was still time.

So I moved to a locked chest near her bed. It was large and mostly cubical in shape. It was locked with a fae-ward, something few humans could obtain and use. It meant that no magic would work to open the chest. I would need a key. It would likely be on her person, which meant that if I wanted to get into the safe, I needed to find a way to get close. Very, very close.

No time to consider a plan for that, I started rummaging through the rest of her tent. I was careful, though. Each item I moved, I made sure to put it in the same place it was found. The books, the material she was interested in, were curious. I jotted down the titles: The Power of the High Fae by Rycherd Poel, Fae Brews for Humans by Hallah Jounsel, The Legend of the Cauldron by Kenzi Schniff, The Origins of the World According to the Fae by Hammon Whiler.

I supposed it was fair for Briallyn to want to learn more about her new body, what she might be capable of. Likely, she would be without a mentor or anyone to teach her what she might be capable of. I didn’t pity her. To me, she had stolen her gifts through murder and thievery. How many had to suffer and die before she was Made? And she wasn’t done. She was still dissatisfied and led by greed to find more. What was she looking for in Prythian?

“Approaching…” 

The shade’s warning was well timed. I slipped from the tent undetected, as far as I could tell. I made my way out of the war camp before I winnowed to the small village a short distance away. I had some information to parse. So I made my way to the inn where I had a room reserved. 

When I entered, I found Gwyn fully clothed and asleep on her bed. The lit candle was dim and hardly had enough wax to support the wick. I realized it might be late. Too late to go over the notes. So I tucked my journal into a hiding place, changed into more comfortable clothes of cotton, and blew out the candle. 

As usual, sleep was elusive. Every sound from the street, every uneven breath from Gwyn, even the bugs and night-time creatures, all of it was noise that made me uncertain. Any one of those noises could tell something else, something no other would suspect. A secret. A trick. Malicious movements in the dark that might mock normalcy, but truly held the threat of danger and exposure. Sound was never my comfort. I preferred pure silence. Total dark. 

But I was forced to acclimate to this lifestyle. Few nights were comfortable and safe. Few nights were restful. I only ever half-slept. I could recount every activity that happened in my light relaxation. When Gwyn woke in the middle of the night to change her clothes and tuck herself in, I was present for every movement. In the dead of the night when no human walked the street, I was awake to hear it. And when the light of dawn emerged, I could see every level of illumination beyond my closed lids. Finally, when it was appropriately day, Gwyn woke. I didn’t rise with her, not yet. From the last few weeks traveling with her, I knew that she enjoyed her peaceful mornings. Even if I could hear every movement, I didn’t engage.

Not until she would leave. Then I would bathe and dress. Typically, by the time I would finish, Gwyn would return with breakfast for two. This morning was no different. I was reading at the small dining table when she returned with a tray of biscuits, preserved fruit, and pork.

“Good morning, Azriel,’’ She smiled warmly as she set the tray in the center of the table.

I nodded absently as I kept reading, “Morning…”

“It seems you found something interesting?” She sat and began to pick at the food.

“I’m not sure yet,” I admitted and grabbed a biscuit, “I made notes, but didn’t allow myself to comprehend them.”

Gwyn didn’t respond. She simply finished her food, then departed. It wasn’t a sign of disrespect on either of our parts. We both knew the social rules of the mission. It was simply that she was here, an ally, a friend, to keep me company. She did leave during the day. I never asked where she was going. I trusted that whatever it was would be revealed if it needed to be. 

And though I enjoyed the silence, the dark, the time without distraction, her presence these last two weeks had made a difference. I was less irritable. More patient. What she offered me was enough to keep me sane.

—

By the time Gwyn had returned, I was writing furiously in my journal. I had pieced together the puzzle.

“Gwyn,” I greeted her as she placed a sandwich before me, “I think I figured out what she’s doing.”

“What is she doing?”

“Briallyn has spies in Prythian, among each of the Courts. Including the Night Court. We have to warn Rhys.”

“We are leaving?” She asked patiently.

I didn’t answer, instead I said, “She no longer seems interested in an attack, at least. But she is looking for something in Prythian. And based on her recent correspondence with Hybern, I think I know what it is.”

“What is she looking for?”

“The Fae half of the Book of Breathings,” I concluded, “She wants to return her youth and beauty and she is using either Daemati powers or the final artifact of the Dread Trove to manipulate fae in high places.”

“Do you know where it is?”

I smiled as I remembered taking the book right from under Brannagh and Dagden’s noses, “I’m the only one who knows where it is. Not even Rhys knows.”

“Is it safe?” Gwyn was curious, hesitant. I wondered for a moment if she was probing to discern its location.

I considered it for a moment. The book was poorly warded in comparison to the major locks it had prior to the theft. I had hoped that distance alone would keep it safe and set an alarm if anyone got near. The only chance of Briallyn getting it would be if she found me and found out what I knew. As far as I was aware, she hadn’t.

When I didn’t answer, Gwyn asked again, “When do we leave?”

She didn’t seem eager, so I finally asked the unspoken question I held for weeks, “What have you been doing in the time I am away?”

She gazed at me with her beautiful blue eyes, those of the water nymph in her blood. They were so still, and for a moment, emotionless. I swallowed, somewhat nervous for what she might say.

After a few moments, she answered, “Not keeping my head down,” I parted my mouth to reply, but she continued, “I’ve been making my way through the ranks of Briallyn’s Court. Befriending and seducing anyone who could get me close.”

“Did you find anything interesting?”

“She is weak,” Gwyn was near expressionless, “Politically and socially. She is a high fae ruling humans with centuries of hate in their hearts. They hate her. They only follow her because of her power. The moment she displays weakness, they plan to take that away.”

“Any plans?”

“Nothing active. Everyone I spoke with lies in wait for her to make a mistake. She is one false move from being murdered.”

“It seems we have nothing concrete from Briallyn, then,” I started gathering my notes, “Time to report to Rhys for further orders.”

Chapter Text

“My Lady,” A high fae female prostrated herself before me, before pulling a satchel forward, “I have brought you a hand-woven blanket. I used threads originating from all across Prythian and have been working on it for several weeks.”

I nodded to a sentinel who moved to collect the satchel. He pulled out the blanket, which was luxurious and soft. It was huge, possibly large enough to fit a family of four bundled within.

“Your sacrifice is accepted,” I bowed my head in thanks, then rose to grasp the female by the hand, “May the power of Spring bless you and bring forth new life.”

She rose to her feet, tears in her eyes, “Thank you, my Lady. Thank you…”

I dismissed the female and sighed as she departed with her husband.

How many has that been? I thought, At least thirty today?

I knew high fae fertility was low, but I never imagined that this many were without children, Zephan replied in my mind.

I motioned for the sentinel to bring in the next patron.

Half my days were spent listening to the people, both fae and human. Disputes over land, complaints over labor shortages, behests for fertility blessings, and requests for judgment on lawbreaking behavior were the most common. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on Lucien to do this. With him gone to find Elain and perhaps bargain with Hybern for her return, I had no more excuses. I threw every hour of my day into decision making and planning.

The other half of my days were spent receiving news on Prythian and international matters. I was required to be informed of threats, fruitful opportunities, and even economic struggle. Managing an entire court required care to every detail. Even one misplaced bull could result in the failure of an entire village.

Any remaining time was spent on eating, sleeping, visiting with my children, and spending time with Rhys.

It had been a few months since he discovered Zephan in my mind. He hadn’t brought it up once. Rather, we spent time talking about work, family, and the differences between our courts. We had grown rather close. Though, we haven’t been intimate since that kiss during our first lesson on flight. I wanted more, and I could tell he did too. But it wasn’t the right time. Too many thoughts invaded my mind. Depression and stress had stripped me of sexual desire or energy.

And Calanmai was approaching once again, marking my fourth year since killing Andres and meeting Tamlin. In just three days, I would be required to perform the Rite of Fertility.

That evening, when I released control to Zephan, I threw a tendril out to Rhys through our bargain’s bond. He instantly responded and our line of communication was open.

“Good evening, Rhys,” I stood in the cognitive lounge of his mind. Much more inviting than the messy thicket of mine. But I had never gotten any further. Never seen what lay beyond.

“Feyre,” He sat on the couch and gestured for me to sit as well, “How was your evening?”

“Thirty-four,” I sat in the opposing corner of the couch, “Thirty-four, Rhysand.”

“Thirty-four?” He grinned amusedly.

“That’s how many have requested fertility blessings,” I frowned, “Though one of them neglected a sacrifice. I was required to refuse. Or offer sex.”

“Which did they choose?” Though he kept a grin in his expression, I caught a glimpse of anxiety from the lighting in the room.

“They will return with their sacrifice,” I sighed, “No one ever asks for sex.”

“Do you want to change that?” The anxiety was gone, Rhys was sporting his trademark smirk of temptation.

I couldn’t help the heat of self-conscious embarrassment of the words I had uttered. That was not what I meant , but I said, “Zephan’s nightly choices tend to strip away those thoughts.”

“He… He uses your body for sex?”

“Well, mostly to explore the court and meet the new humans. They are so blindingly attracted to him that he can’t help himself when they start flirting.”

“And you don’t mind?” Rhys was hesitantly surprised.

I shrugged, “He leaves me with a body in the same way I left it. We have a strict agreement that I will be me in my own flesh, and he will be his in our male form. And he keeps those nightly excursions to himself so I don’t have to know about his… adventures.”

He paused for a moment as a thought occurred to him, one I could tell that he was burning to ask, “What are your plans for Calanmai?”

“The usual, I suppose. Why do you ask? What are your plans?”

“I was curious if Zephan would stay for another year… or if he would return to the world in between.”

We hadn’t talked about it. I hadn’t even considered it. I honestly didn’t mind sharing a life with him, so I said, “I don’t… think I’m ready to leave him behind just yet.”

Rhys was quiet, “I sometimes wonder what it would be like to hide from my past. To have what you have.”

I had hidden. I was afraid of what remembering would do to me. And I was thankful for Zephan and the Spring Court in keeping me busy enough to forget. But when Rhys mentioned it, I remembered the own pain he had dealt with in his time Under the Mountain, the pain of seeing the female he loved be with another, of losing his family. This male was over five-hundred years old. I had been so selfish in thinking that what I had was worse.

So I said, “I’m sorry…”

Rhys just shook his head, “But I think it’s good to face what I’ve done. A punishment. You are without fault. You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”

I clamped my jaw and considered running away again. No, I am no different. Just as cruel. At the memory, I admitted, “It didn’t just happen to me, Rhys. I killed two innocents, remember? And I had failed in protecting Spring from economic disaster. I had let their High Lord die. I am not without fault.”

Rhys leaned towards me, “None of that was within your power to change.”

“I should have died.”

“No,” Rhys nearly barked the command, “Don’t ever say that. Don’t even suggest that we would be better off without you.”

“Why?” I challenged, the heat of anger rose within me.

“Because you can’t know that,” His answer came as a slight shock. I expected uplifting words of praise and encouragement, but instead, he continued, “What happened is in the past and you can’t change it. And even still, we can’t be sure of what would have happened if things were different. We have to accept it.”

“But we can guess,” I frowned, it was a weak argument, “Tamlin might still be alive. If I had just let him go, not broken the curse… Maybe I would be still alive, even. Not haunted by what I’ve caused.”

Rhys considered it, “If you had not fallen in love with Tamlin? Where would we be…?”

It was a rumination I had considered many times, “You all would still be under Amarantha’s thrall. I would still be living as a human with my sisters in my father’s estate. Hybern wouldn’t have attacked since Amarantha would still be aligned with them, I suppose.”

“I don’t think it would have been as easy as that,” Rhys mused, “Amarantha was pushing the boundaries of the wall. I’m certain that Hybern was planning to break it. Bring it down. Return humans to their place as livestock. And kill any high fae who would oppose that plan. And I wouldn’t live to see that happen. I would have died trying to kill her and break the curse with her death.”

I hadn’t known that perspective. That my choices might have saved all of humanity and… and Rhys, “Is there any way out of it? Any way where we all live happily ever after?”

Rhys shook his head, “You’ve been thinking about it for just a few years, Feyre. This is something I’ve spent my whole life contemplating. There is no way out of it. There is no way everyone makes it out alive.”

“The seasons of life…” I murmured, “Spring brings new life…”

“But all life must end,” Rhys whispered softly, “We must take the bad with the good.”

“Is that how you live with it all?” I felt hopeless, the wilting depression began to crawl back into the foreground

He gazed into my eyes, reading the change in emotion, “I struggle to accept it, Feyre. Every moment alone is a punishment for what happened, what I’ve done, what I failed to protect. But I need… I need to remind myself that there are things that I can’t change. And I can’t always prepare for the things to come, even with the power to read minds. Any chance of freedom… I try to live in the moment. Remind myself of what I have, not what I’ve lost.”

A moment of silence. A trickle of memory dropped. One that might unravel everything he had just said. So softly, so quiet, I wasn’t sure if I should say it. But I did, “You can’t know that your generation will die with you. You can’t know that the female you love will reject you. You can’t know that it wouldn’t work between the two of you.”

He was stunned. I let my words sink in. I had suspected that I might be that female, but had never returned to that evening of Starfall. 

“Feyre…” He reached out and touched my cognitive shadow with his own. I could see his argument falling silent. After a moment, he gave in, “You are right. I shouldn’t give up before I’ve had the chance. By holding back, I was failing to offer choice. And I… hearing you say that… You’re right,” Rhys's violet gaze burned with emotion. His shadow melded closer with mine, slowly, as if offering the chance for me to flee. I held my ground.

“Rhys…” I addressed him, his closeness. His motion was an admission of truth. An unspoken truth that we both understood. I embraced his shadow with my own. An acceptance of his truth.

Chapter Text

When Feyre fizzled back into her own body, I was left alone in the quiet cold at the mountain overlooking Velaris. It was easier to keep calm with the beautiful city at night as my backdrop. Despite that, I was feeling the opposite of calm. I was excited. How could I sleep with Feyre all over my mind. My soul pounded against my heart in thrumming demand to act. To winnow to her and kiss her again. But not like the untethered sexual desire like the last time. Rather, a kiss to express love and need to be… as close as I could with her.

For now, all I had was the memory of her closeness. Perhaps I would use my Daemati powers to silence those thoughts tonight. Just so I can hibernate for a restful tomorrow. Maybe I would visit her in person with the excuse of more flight training. Or I could claim that I wanted to see how her younglings were coming along. 

But when I awoke the next morning, my serving wraiths informed me that Azriel was waiting to speak with me. My spymaster was back with a report. And all excitement for Feyre faded. I remembered that her sister was stolen and I was working to get her back. I invited the inner circle, including Nesta, to the Townhouse to hear what Azriel uncovered the last few weeks. Within a few hours, Amren, Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and Nesta were relaxing in my sitting room.

“You’re telling me that weeks alone with Gwyn and you didn’t make a move?” Cassian was teasing Azriel.

“I’m fairly sure that a secretive mission is not the place for romantic gestures,” Azriel rolled his eyes.

“Not to mention that it was probably the last thing on her mind,” Nesta’s comment was candid, “No offense, Azriel, but Gwyn might not be ready for anything physical.”

“Not that I’m looking for it,” Azriel’s expression was thoughtful, “But Gwyn claimed that she was seducing her way through Briallyn’s ranks. I mean, I don’t know what that entails, but… She might be over it.”

“What, for real?” Cassian leaned forward, “Was she successful?”

Azriel shrugged, “From what Gwyn reports, Briallyn is on the brink of disaster. Her own court is waiting for one small slipup, one chance to sneak in and murder her.”

“Perhaps it is just a waiting game, then?” I suggested.

Azriel shook his head wearily, “Alas, Briallyn is aware of her position. Let’s not forget her ability to enthrall an entire human army to senselessly throw away their lives just for a distraction to kidnap Elain.”

A pause of contemplation in the room. Then I asked, “Do you know if she is a Daemati? Or if she has the final artifact of the trove?”

“No,” Azriel admitted, “But I do know that she is looking for something. She is actively searching Prythian for a way to… I don’t know for sure, but I think it is all to get back her youth. The obsession of humans, I swear…”

“Careful, Az,” Nesta warned, “Those are my people you are talking about.”

“Are they?” Cassian glanced at her curiously.

Nesta returned his look with fierce intent, “I was born human. My heart is human. What makes me fae is the immortality. And I haven’t experienced what that means yet. And until I do, they are my people.”

“Apologies, Nesta,” Azriel replied, but moved on quickly, “Briallyn has been dealing with Hybern in her search for answers. I suspect that she is looking for the other half of the Book of Breathings, but she may also be looking for the artifact or even the Cauldron itself.”

“They want it back,” The Cauldron’s location was exclusively known to Elain. I considered what they might be doing to her now to reveal that answer. I scowled, “But if they haven’t attacked yet, then Elain has kept its location secret. She has held out.”

Nesta rose to her feet at the mention of her sister, “Hybern has stepped too far. Forget Briallyn. Rally your armies and launch a counter attack. They are weak after their overwhelming loss.”

“If we do,” I leveled a warning look at Nesta, “We don’t know how they would respond. Elain is their hostage. It could be making it worse. We have to trust Lucien to get her out safely.”

Nesta spat, “We put all our faith into one person? Fool.”

“Careful, girl,” Amren growled, “That is our High Lord you speak of. He lets you sit in on these meetings as a Courtesy to your sisters. That kindness may only extend so far.”

With a scowl, Nesta lowered herself back to the seat next to Cassian. He wasn’t too pleased with her outburst either.

“We have little choice in the matter, Nesta,” I remained calm, unshaken by Nesta’s challenge, “But Lucien is highly skilled and highly driven. Though the mating bond hasn’t snapped into place between him and Elain, I hear that they have grown rather close.”

Nesta boiled at that, but kept silent. I could see that the idea of a mating bond was sensitive to her. To Cassien, even. He had confided in me that he felt it between the two of them, but nothing had come of it. It was a pain-point for their relationship. I wondered if I would ever feel that connection. But I shoved the thought away. Not now. 

“Never come between Mates,” Mor smirked, “If Lucien hasn’t killed all of them by the end of this, I might be shocked.”

The meeting turned lighter after that. But it didn’t take long for Mor to announce that she needed to be heading out. To meet with Emerie.

“Speaking of which,” Amren stood, “It is time I announced my departure. From the Night Court.”

I stood with her, but held back my surprise, “Where will you go?”

“Summer,” Amren held my eyes with her own, “Varian has asked my hand. And I have accepted.”

I had even barely registered a relationship between the two of them. But her announcement made sense. Varian would have no place in the Night Court and Amren could make any place her home.

“Does that mean a promotion for me?” Mor grimaced. Though she would never admit it, she was the natural choice for successor before Amren. Mor didn’t want that responsibility or power.

“For now,” I gave her a consoling look. There wasn’t much of another choice. Not without including the Court of Nightmares in my inner politics. Not unless I admitted to wanting to remove the system of hierarchy between High Fae and Lesser Fae. If I were to promote Azriel or Cassian, I might lose half my Court to rebellion. Unless Mor outright refused, she was stuck in the role. And we both knew she wouldn’t refuse.

“Take care of Bryaxis and Nosphere for me,” Amren smiled deviously, “Good luck.”

“You will be missed,” I bowed lightly, “But we will see each other again.”

“You will always have my loyalty,” Amren returned the bow, “Long before Summer.”

And so Amren left. Followed by the rest of my companions except for Azriel. He stayed after a moment longer. 

“What is it?” There was something Azriel wanted to say without even our closest friends to hear.

“We may have a problem,” He was deathly quiet, “Briallyn has spies in every Court. The correspondences I was able to gather include even ours.”

“Who?” I swore that my heart had stopped. The thought of betrayal by the ones I loved…

“I don’t know,” Azriel’s expression was passionate and violent, “But they would be enthralled. Unable to resist communicating with her.”

I nodded gravely. I would have to infiltrate every single noble in my Court. Starting with my inner circle. It occurred to me that even Azriel could be enthralled. By the look on his face, he knew that I would be required to confirm. I would be required to piece apart every aspect of his mind, every part of his personality. To find the trace of power that Briallyn had over the human soldiers. To see if he was a victim. For all I knew, he could be a dead-fae walking. Just like they were. 

I gently pressed a tendril of my power to his mind. Azriel knew what it meant. And he trusted me so fully that he let me in.

Chapter Text

Brannagh was bored and hardly paying any attention to the courtiers that addressed her. Each one complained of labor shortages, lost investments, and how much life had changed for them since the humans rebelled. The fae that Brannah and Dagdan ruled over were ancient, I realized. Biter over their losses. And as Brannagh sat with her chin on her fist and yawning, I knew that her attitude would only make this worse. I was conflicted. I wanted to feel sorry for the High Fae of Hybern, but then again, their solution was to take back the humans as slaves once again. Or at least to bring in Lesser Fae immigrants to serve as the lower class.

“They aren’t worth my time, Majesty,” One female was complaining, “South Court is stepping too far and I simply can’t sacrifice any more of my daily tasks to shake them off!”

“What staff are you needing, Lady Ophna?” Brannagh sighed.

“For starters, I need someone to manage the servants. Beating them isn’t working. They can’t seem to do anything right and I simply don’t have the time to make them better. So they either get fired or quit. And now I have to make my own tea!”

“So you beat them for your own inadequacies?” I blurted out.

The hall was still for a moment as Lady Ophna glared at me, “Excuse me?”

I realized what I had done, that I might have offended a High Lady. I looked away to pretend like I didn’t say anything.

Brannagh sat up in her throne, “It seems the Lady Elain might have some input. Speak freely, Lady.”

I stepped too far. I had been so bored and tired of standing in the same position for hours and hours, exhaustion must have muddled my inhibition. But it was too late for regrets. I gritted my teeth and held my head high, “You fail to teach them the proper method to do things, and to hide your shame, you beat them. And perhaps you are too… shallow to see your own faults. If you don’t want to manage them, teach them to manage themselves.”

“How,” Lady Ophna stepped towards me, red-faced, “Dare you criticize me? What do you know of being High Lady? What do you know of managing a household?”

I didn’t. That was a problem, for sure. I wasn’t Feyre or Nesta, who had done both of those things. But I hated how she treated her staff. I hated hearing all of these High Fae complain about how their noble life was far less noble if they had to get their hands dirty. That was something I was familiar with.

“You have received your solution,” Brannagh waved a hand in dismissal, “I will see the next complainant.”

Lady Ophna bristled, but knew better than to argue. She turned heel and stomped from the hall.

I felt my body tense up, my control eased away. Panic drenched me and I pushed against the invading force. Cauldron save me… I reached for my power, but somehow I knew that if I revealed myself while Brannagh had me in her clutches, she could kill me instantly. 

“Two steps forward,” Branna sang, “And two steps back. Overstep again, Lady Elain, and you will find yourself lacking more than when you first came to Hybern.”

A silver tear bloomed and dripped down my face. The only physical action I could take.

—

That night, I Iied prone in the bed offered me. I wondered how much I was being watched. How deep the thrall went. Perhaps as they slept, they wouldn’t know the magic I could perform.

Cauldron… I brushed the black iron wall that contained the source of my magic.

It didn’t respond, but I felt the power just beyond my fingers. I knew I could draw upon it. But how? How did Daemati magic work? I had no idea how the thrall over my mind caged my movements. I drew upon a small bit, which was a lot by fae standards, and spread it like wildfire in the dried garden of my mind. Burn… Burn the rot… Burn the disease… Purge the infiltrators…

The silver flames grew beyond my mind, enveloping my physical body and setting the room alight. It was cold fire, incredibly cold. As the void, as the world before energy and life, it was beyond ice. But my body didn’t shiver. I still hadn’t gained control. In fact, I felt my limbs lock up like frostbite. So I retracted the power, stopped feeding it.

But it was too late. The fire of cold was raging all around me, all through my mind. I could stop it, but I needed it. I needed freedom. I couldn’t be caged like this. No longer…

I sat up, stepped out of bed with sore and tight muscles, and began walking. Not of my own control. Someone, Brannagh or Dagdan, had noticed my rebellion. Each step was painful as I marched dutifully through the quiet castle halls. Guards didn’t even glance my way. The vacant expression on my face was tell enough that I was under the control of their leaders.

And I descended. Down… Down… To the dungeons. The dungeons where I spent my final days as a human. 

Burn! I begged the Cauldron to understand, Free me!

But the Cauldron hadn’t responded. Not since the day when the twins invaded its space. I wasn’t sure if the being was scared, but whatever kept it silent didn’t keep me from the power. It just simply… didn’t help.

I stopped walking when I entered a chamber. In the center was a wooden table, no chairs, and along the wall was a large furnace. Brannagh stood waiting for me, glaring at me through the dim light. 

“What have you done to yourself?” She sneered, “Is this some attempt at suicide?”

Brannagh approached me and touched my skin. She hissed, “At this rate, you’ll be dead in minutes. You have overstepped, Lady Elain. We need you alive. What happens if you die? Does the Cauldron die with you? Or does it go back to its home? Where is that, Lady?”

I didn’t answer. Brannagh certainly could make me. But instead, she had me walking towards the lit furnace. I was so numb… I didn’t feel any heat coming from it. Closer… Closer… My pace didn’t slow. Did she intend for me…?

I stepped into the large opening of the fire pit. My skin sizzled and the flame fought against my cold. I took another step. I was standing in the heart of the coals. They billowed up into massive flames, magically propelled by Brannagh’s will.

I was completely engulfed, but rather than thaw out, I experienced sub-zero cold and an inferno of heat all at once. And I couldn’t scream, couldn’t fight back. And even with the Cauldron’s chill, I knew that I would only make it worse by adding more cold. The warring agony kept me unable to decide. What can I do to fix this?

I pulled the power of the Cauldron and shoved it away. Go home , I demanded. And it complied. It seeped back into the iron wall of its host. And I was powerless once again. Heat overwhelmed the cold. My clothes sloughed into ash, my skin prickled and boiled with heat. I felt my hair singe and my lips curl. And it wasn’t until my nerves succumbed from the pain, burned off, that Brannagh finally willed me out of the furnace.

I couldn’t see her. My eyes… perhaps they had melted out… The one sense that was my ground. You will find yourself lacking more than when you first came to Hybern.

And I was nothing. Felt nothing, sensed nothing. I only knew I wasn’t dead by the pulsing of my heart. The heavy thrumb was everything I could sense. Painfully calm. Repetitive. Pump pump… pump pump… The blood coursed through me. All I was.

— Lucien —

“They keep her half-thralled.”

A cleaning servant from the Hybern Palace was connected to me through the thieving guild. She was enjoying some sweet bread when I encountered her at a local bakery.

“She never wanders, only follows the royal twins wherever they go,” The female continued, “She only speaks when they leave her alone. Well, except for when she told off Lady Ophna.” The servant smiled gleefully, “It was the topic of the day yesterday!”

“Are they treating her well?” I asked gently. I couldn’t let this conversation get off topic to gossip so soon.

“As far as I can tell,” She took another bite, “They are treating her better than when she first got here. Before, she wasn’t allowed any expression or voice. But now… Her spirit shines, I think.”

I didn’t let that news encourage hope. Instead, I asked, “Do you think they will grant her more control?”

“Some servants are suggesting they might be grooming her to take a courtly position,” She said lightly, “Maybe even overthrow Ophna.”

“Impossible,” I frowned at the thought that Hybern might let a human-made-fae into a position of power.

The female shrugged, “Just a rumor, I suppose. If Lady Elain plays her cards right, she might find herself beloved by the Lesser Fae for what she said. Or perhaps such a stance will get her killed.”

I dug my nails into my palms at the threat, “Would those Fae be willing to work with me in freeing her?”

She shrugged, “They could be rallied. But Brannagh and Dagdan can get easily paranoid. They have been known to ‘cleanse’ the thoughts of their staff on baseless fears. If they knew of a plot against them, they would strike back hard.”

I reached into my pocket and felt the vial concealed there, “What if there was a way to garner safety against Daemati threats?”

The servant met my eyes, “Is there such a way, my Lord?”

I hesitated before bringing the vial from my pocket and placing it in her hands, “This potion was developed to counter Daemati. It is… untested. Not poisonous, but… We don’t know what use it is against them.”

The female inspected the vial, “There is a female who constantly gets into trouble with the royals. They would have thrown her out if not for the laugh she affords them. Perhaps she can test it for us.”

I bit my cheek, “If Dagdan and Brannagh suspect she has a potion to thwart them, what would happen to her?”

She nodded, “It would have to be tested in a less suspecting environment.”

“Find me if you learn anything more,” I made to depart, then turned back to the servant, “If you can, please watch out for her… Lady Elain is my mate.”

The female paled at the words, but nodded gravely, “I understand, my Lord. If there is anything I can do, I will help. For you, but also… for her actions yesterday. She put herself at risk by standing up for us. It won’t be forgotten.”

Chapter Text

Calanmai, Fire Night, the Rite of Spring Fertility. Tonight I would give myself for the people of my court. Or rather… I’d have Zephan do it for me. Pretending to be me.

I watched my children practice balance. They were close to walking now, especially Zephyr. I still hadn’t grown attached to them. Not like I felt I should. They were cute and I deemed them precious, but I knew a mother must feel more for her children, right? Some sort of fierce protective nature? Wild obsession to nurture them and see them succeed? Being near them as my nurse cheered them on brought forth guilt and shame. I guess at least I felt something akin to jealousy. At this rate, they might end up seeing her as their own mother. I hated that thought.

But it was inevitable, I thought. I didn’t have time for them. To nurture them and love them like Cynth, the head nurse, did. 

Kore clasped my leg to keep balance. I reached out and hovered my hands around her to catch her if she fell. Kore simply looked up at me, wobbling slightly. I stared into her beautiful green eyes. Eyes like Tamlin’s.

“Good job!” Cynth cooed in congratulations and I looked up. Zephyr was hoisting himself over to me all on his own. His first steps.

I couldn’t help but beam at the accomplishment. Zephyr wobbled up beside Kore and clasped my other knee. He returned a large smile back to me. I stroked his soft blonde hair affectionately.

“I’m so glad,” Cynth patted at a tear, “That you were here to see it.”

“His first steps?” I confirmed.

“Yes,” She gasped, “So precious and so rare to see a youngling grow. Even more to see a future High Lord in his youth.”

Future High Lord. I knew it was going to happen. But… “When?” I asked.

“In previous reigns,” Her voice stopped shaking as she explained, “The new Lords come into power when their father dies. But in the case of a reagent, protocol is to transfer power on their twenty-fifth birthday.”

“Protocol?” Cynth made it sound like a theory, not a case study.

“A line of succession has never been so…” She looked at me solidly before she explained, “There has never been a High Lady before you…”

Cynth knew she was treading on a thin line with her words. She was implying that I would transfer power as soon as Zephyr came of age. That I was only High Lady because Tamlin was High Lord. That a male should be in power. And the last year has proven that with a male in power, the Court would have been easier to rule. Only recently has our popularity grown… and that was technically due to a male… with power. Zephan.

I sighed, “Zephyr will be trained in courtly matters, the traditional lessons for a future High Lord. As will Kore. And when the time comes, there will be a discussion.”

“Kore as well?” Cynth was quiet in her challenge, “Who will continue the line?”

“I understand that it is not for us to decide,” I didn’t balk at her challenge. I remained calm and gentle as I reminded her, “It is the will of Spring.”

Cynth bowed her head, “Of course, my Lady. The will of Spring.”

It felt like a word of appeasement. There was more to argue. That I should not allow Spring to choose the succession to the throne. Such chaos could cause political disaster. But I wasn’t worried about that at all. For I was a close friend of Spring’s. Zephan. I smiled as Zephyr began playing with an abacus and Kore chewed on a blanket. I wasn’t worried about the future of Spring at all.

—

The Rite was just as expected. For me, completely calm and quiet in the haven of my mind. And when I woke up, just like last year, I was naked in a pile of snoozing fae. Some glanced at me as they hunted for their clothes, but said nothing. I took a few steps away before snapping some clothes on. A bath. I needed a bath.

When I finished washing up, I took it a step further and worked with a servant to enhance my look. And when I was deemed ready, I reached out to Rhys.

“What are you up to today?” I asked down the bond.

It was a moment before he replied, “Do you know how early it is? You know, us Night Courtiers like to stay up late, right?”

I smiled, “I was up late too, you know.”

“Right.” He said nothing more.

“I was thinking I might come and visit,” I suggested, “Maybe we could stretch our wings around the Night Court?”

“Now that Spring has blessed the land?” It was an innocent suggestion, but laced with bitterness.

“Just Spring,” I poked him, “I had quite a boring night while Zephan took the lead.”

“Seems kind of…”

“Right?” I finished his sentence, “That Spring would be the one to do his job?”

I felt him laugh, “I suppose that’s true. It is his job, not yours.”

“So do you want to go flying today?” I pushed the question again.

“Yes,” He said after a moment, “I have nothing terribly important going on.”

And so I pinpointed his location, offset it, and winnowed.

Before me was Rhys as he lounged in a robe on the balcony of his townhouse. He looked up to me in shock, “I didn’t expect you to come now .”

I smirked at his casual attire, “You always have to be ready for a flight.”

He stood up, threw off his robe, and his wings puffed out behind him, stretched wide and magnificent, “Always ready.”

I couldn't help but look at his bare chest, his light-weight shorts, the lines of muscle pointing downwards. The lack of clothes.

“Eyes up here, Feyre darling,” Rhys’s half smile was laced with temptation, but then he snapped and was fully dressed in leather flight-clothes, “I dare say I’m more ready than you.”

“Problem with my clothes?” I smiled innocently at him. I was wearing a light outfit, stretchy and warm, yet somewhat revealing in the neck area.

“You might get a little cold,” He stepped closer, “I can’t be held responsible if you need to warm up.”

I puffed out my own wings, brown and white feathers as opposed to his batlike black. While I had initially learned from his style, I adapted them to be more suitable for Spring. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

It was the first time he had seen my adapted wings. While he trained me often, I spent many days in independent learning as well. He reached out and felt at the feathers, “Have you tried flying with them yet?”

I held back the shiver of pleasure that rang through me. He knew that I would feel it. He must! “Yes. Would you like to see them in action?”

“Lead the way, Feyre,” He gestured to the morning sky beyond the balcony.

I stretched out my wings, keen not to blunder flying in front of my teacher, and focused each muscle in my back to obey without complaint. I flapped once lightly, then jumped as I generated a strong thrust of wind from a mighty second flap. I pushed harder, faster, gaining elevation. I hadn’t flown in the Night Court before. And it was actually cold. I had underestimated the mountains and snow from winter. Compounded by the breeze of flight. 

Rhys gracefully met me in the sky, “Cold yet?”

I grimaced, teeth chattering, but didn’t respond. I hoisted myself higher into the sky, faster, and raced eastward. I didn’t check to see if Rhys could keep up. I trusted his lifelong experience of flight.

After about an hour, I was sore and tired. I found a crater-formed-lake and made my way to it. At least I wasn’t cold anymore. But as I got closer, I realized it was a lava-warmed hot spring.

I landed on the shore, “I’ve only heard about them…” I was in awe of the incredible natural formation before me. There was even a waterfall.

”We have many in the Night Court,” Rhys had landed next to me, “At this time of year, they are quite relaxing.”

I began to remove my clothes, making a point not to watch Rhys’s expression as I did so. When I was chattering once again, half-naked, I stepped into the steaming lake. The sharp heat bit into the frigid cold, but I embraced the sensation and kept walking. At waist-depth, I plunged myself into a swim, fully submerged. It was so warm and soothing, I nearly formed gills just to keep underwater.

But I surfaced, then turned towards the shore. As anticipated, Rhys was wading towards me with nothing but his shorts and wings.

”I could stay here forever,” I sighed and tipped my head back to look at the misty sky.

Rhys didn’t say anything, but instead, joined me in a backward float in the hot spring. And so we relaxed in silence for a while. Simply content with the warmth and the company.

”There are spies in each Court,” Rhys said after a while, “Briallyn’s.”

“What does she want this time…?” My eyes were closed and I maintained the calm I had gathered from the lake. He had spoken right as I was nearing sleep.

“She’s just mad because she is old and ugly.”

I laughed, “Nothing she can do about that.”

“She doesn’t seem to think so,” I heard Rhys turn the water, “She is hunting down magic to transform her back.”

“The Cauldron?” I stopped drifting.

“I suppose,” Rhys and I both crouched neck deep in the water to face each other, “Do you know where it is stowed?”

I shook my head lightly so the water wouldn’t splash, “Its location is exclusively known by the Death Gods and Elain.”

“Stryga…” Rhys murmured the name of the Weaver, a newly Made fae who had gone off on her own, “I think it’s time we hunt her down.”

“We might be able to work with Nosphere,” I pointed out, “He is her twin. Perhaps they are close enough to scry with.”

“Nosphere and Bryaxis…” Rhys frowned, “Have been impatient with us recently. Nesta and Elain haven’t met their end of the bargain.”

“We can’t do much about that for Nosphere…”

Rhys nodded, “But Bryaxis and Nesta… We may be able to do something there.”

“He just wants someone to love, right?”

“Not easy if we can’t even trust him to leave the house.”

I cocked my head, “Why not?”

“He’s still not… socially… there yet.” Rhys smiled, “It’s all innocent, really, but the people have complained and requested he not be left in the city alone.”

“So he hasn’t really done anything?”

“No, but his attitude makes people nervous. They don’t understand that he means well.”

“We’ll have to talk with Nesta. See if she can work on her bargain.”

Rhys waded closer, “Are you ready to head back?”

I dipped my chin and mouth below water in response.

Rhys laughed, “I have warm tubs in Velaris, if that’s what you need.”

I peeked up to speak, “It’s not just the warm water. It’s the combination between hot and cold. The free movement… The solitude.”

“Should I leave you and your new mate?” Rhys teased.

Mate. A thin golden thread plucked a beautiful tune in my mind. I tried not to think about that right now. Instead, I replied, “You can stay.”

“I mean, if you two need to be alone…” Rhys grinned wickedly and stood up straight. Water coursed down his chest and muscles, cold caused his skin to prickle. His wings drooped behind him, not quite emerged from the lake. I gave myself a moment to watch the steam roll off him.

I smiled mischievously at him as I bubbled up a massive drop of water behind him. Closer… And when he gave me a curious look, I dropped it on his head, “You sure you want to leave while you're soaking wet?”

His mouth was wide in an open-mouthed laugh, “I’m a High Lord, you know. I can dry off pretty instantly.”

I splashed water back at him, this time with my hands, “I’d like to see you try.”

He guarded his face against my barrage of water, laughing, before he lunged towards me in a counterattack.

Chapter Text

I had read enough romantic fiction that I thought I understood the loving heart inside us all. It couldn’t be so hard to find a match for Bryaxis, right?

But as I watched the former Death God on his blind date with my companion Eathe, Bryaxis was staring way too long. Whispering way too much. Standing way too close. I could see Eathe trying to be patient, but she glanced pleading eyes for help many times.

“What was that?” She asked him to repeat what small whisper he recently uttered.

I strained to overhear Bryaxis ask, “Do you read?”

“Read?” Eathe was confused at the simple question. 

“Books,” He clarified.

“Not really,” She admitted with a shy smile, “Mostly just instruction guides or manuals.”

“What is your recent discovery?”

Eathe considered the question, “I suppose I recently researched the use of multi-pronged spears in combat.”

“A frequent fear,” Bryaxis smiled as he stared off into a distant memory, “Of villagers chasing with pitchforks and torches.”

Eathe shifted uncomfortably, “How does that work? I mean, how do you know what people are afraid of?”

“Before being re-Made,” Bryaxis stared into her eyes unblinking and still, “I could see what horrors haunted a person by looking into their eyes.”

Eathe stared back bravely, “Can you see mine?”

Bryaxis held her eyes for a moment before smiling, “It is not as before. Horror does not satiate me the same. My powers are withheld. Uncontrolled.”

“What are you afraid of?” She was quiet in her courage.

“Nothing.”

“Surely you have something you fear?”

“It is nothing that I fear,” Bryaxis explained, “The world being neither positive nor negative. Filled emptiness. When time does not exist, there is no past or future. No hope. No dread. Absolute and uncertain. Neither light nor dark. I fear… nothing.”

“That can not exist…” Eathe held her ground, but she sounded uncertain in her proclamation. 

“But it does, Eathe,” Bryaxis’s smile faded, “For I have seen it. Or what it is not, rather.”

Eathe looked away to pour herself a drink. As she did, she asked, “What is the weakest thing you’ve seen someone fear?”

Bryaxis kept looking at her and cocked his head in confusion, “But fears are not weak. Their power is what makes them deadly.”

She took a sip then rephrased her question, “I mean, what is something that someone fears, but normally, it is considered harmless? It would be something completely unique. Not shared by any other creature.”

Bryaxis said nothing for a moment, but kept staring. He made no expression of thought, but such was his way. He finally said, “Everyone has a fear. Many are shared in some way. But the most unexpected dread, the one that takes me by surprise… is happiness.”

“The fear of happiness?” Eathe's eyes widened, but she kept staring into her cup to avoid his persistent gaze.

“It is rather unexpected, yes?”

“Why?”

“I have supposed, when encountering such a feat, that it may be due to insecurity. That being happy would make any other moment in your life seem… depressing?”

I considered his sentiment. I had heard many of my comrades remark similarly. Specifically that there is no peace, no life without struggle. They disallow themselves to find peace and happiness. Because they simply don’t believe it exists, though. Not because they fear it. Fearing happiness… it implies that they have experienced it before. And such a feeling had not ended well.

—

Eathe later approached me that she was not interested in Bryaxis unless she wanted to feel bad. I understood that. He tended to move conversations that way. He was just so… Real. In each blind date with Bryaxis, they had said something similar. People wanted to flirt, laugh, talk about desires and dreams. And though I had explained it to Bryaxis many times, tried to coach him on displaying emotion or lust or anything romantic, he always seemed to delve away.

So that evening, as Bryaxis and I returned to the House of Wind, Rhys met us on the landing. 

“Welcome back, Nesta, Bryaxis,” He bowed to the Death God. I scowled that he wouldn’t show me any similar respect.

“High Lord,” Bryaxis bowed, but then continued on to his rooms. He usually failed to consider why someone would be waiting for him to get home. 

I sighed, “I can go get him, if you meant to speak with him.”

“Actually,” Rhys held up a hand, “I came for you.”

“What do you want, Rhys?” I didn’t say it too pleasantly. It wasn’t intentional… I just wasn’t in a very good mood after heading about my latest attempt in matchmaking. 

“As you know, I have sent Cassian and Nosphere out to find Stryga,” Rhys glanced nervously at me. He knew I wasn’t happy about being left alone with Bryaxis for a week, “But it is time we consider moving forward with Bryaxis’s help.”

“I haven’t made any progress on that front,” I frowned, “How do you expect him to help, especially when I can’t uphold my end of the bargain?”

“I’ve been considering his prison for the last millennia,” Rhys glanced to the door that led to the Grand Library below, “He likes to read, right? I suspect he might have information on how we can bargain with Briallyn.”

“He won’t give more than he already has,” I threw a hand out in dismissal, “Not until he gets something in return.”

“He just wants someone to love, right?”

“Right. And I’m working on that, Rhysand.”

He flinched at the formal name I addressed him with, “You don’t have to return the love, Nesta… But maybe you could…?”

“Are you seriously asking me,” I growled dangerously, “To marry him?”

“No!” He waved defensively, “Of course not, Nesta. But I mean, you could swear him into your family. Adopt him? Or even just… Stay with him until we find him someone else?”

I rubbed my eyes in frustration, “So I uphold my end of the bargain. The bargain given for his help in the war. And what will you give him for information that could serve Briallyn?”

“To be discussed, of course.”

“Ugh…” I inhaled sharply and called out, “Bryaxis!”

I began walking towards the sitting area and Rhys followed. Shortly thereafter, Bryaxis returned. He wore an all-black cotton outfit, long sleeved, warm for bed.

“Yes?” He asked and slowly looked between Rhys and I. 

“You can be my brother,” I snapped, “In exchange for your help in the war. I will be someone you can love.”

Bryaxis cocked his head, “Clever maneuver, Nesta.”

“Do you accept this?”

He smiled deviously, “If I am to love you, sister, then I am to spend significantly more time with you. Do I not need to get to know you? And you I? Shall we not bond together as siblings may have?”

“How much time?” I crossed my arms.

“Until I deem it so.”

“Provide a limit, Bryaxis,” I hissed.

“Very well,” He held up a finger, “One year. Or until I find someone else whose time I prefer over yours.”

“One year?!” I demanded, “Seriously?”

“I considered it quite generous. Many would spend centuries and never know me at all.”

My eyes bulged at that and I nearly countered. But Rhys gave me a warning glance. And it reminded me that I was fae now. One year was a blink in comparison to my entire life. I pursed my lips, “Fine.”

“And when the amended conditions are met, our bargain will be fulfilled,” Bryaxis bowed curtly.

Rhys stepped forward, “Now that that is concluded, I would like to make a bargain.”

“So many dealings in one evening,” Bryaxis smiled with all of his teeth, “What can I do for you, High Lord?”

“What do you know about the Queen Briallyn’s condition?”

I swore I found a rare emotion of delight on the Death God’s face, “Only that she is living her worst nightmare. Such a vain creature.”

“She is overstepping. Breaching our courts. And we can’t afford two intercontinental enemies.”

“So you would like me to advise on how to get her to forfeit her part in this conflict?”

“Yes,” Rhys stepped closer, cautiously, “Do you know of a way to return her to youth and beauty?”

“I assume you are referring to the vast knowledge I have accumulated during my time in the Grand Library?” Bryaxis tapped his chin dramatically. At least he learned some gestures from my coaching. 

“I hoped you might have retained something since being re-Made…”

Bryaxis nodded, “I do have a few thoughts. But before we create a bargain, you should know that you had a perfect answer for quite some time.”

I narrowed a suspicious look at him, “The harp? The artifact from the bog?”

Bryaxis slowly shook his head in a taunt, “Why, the Lady Elain, of course.”

“You mean that she knew of the Cauldron’s whereabouts?” Rhys clarified in question.

“Oh High Lord,” Bryaxis chuckled lightly, “That she is the Cauldron.”

“That she can communicate with it, you mean?” I confirmed, “Because she made the bargain to re-Make you and the other Death Gods?”

“Oh no, Nesta,” Bryaxis made a proud-taunting expression. As if he knew something we didn’t, or that we were being pathetically stupid, “While the iron vessel was left behind in the Sacred Mountain of the Middle, your sister, the Lady Elain, transferred its power into her body. She is a flesh-made Cauldron .”

“Do the others know?” Rhys had his dark and serious demeanor now. The air of his power crackled in the air.

“Nosphere, Stryga, myself, and of course, the Lady Elain herself,” Bryaxis held up a finger for each count, “And I expect that the King Dagdan and Queen Brannagh know as well. Perhaps even Queen Briallyn.”

Rhys quickly turned and marched off. I simply stared blankly at the revelation. 

“Until next time!” Bryaxis called after the High Lord.

Chapter Text

“This is incredible, Thaylia,” I was looking over the crude outline of the Hybern Castle, noting each mark where she indicated a room’s use.

The female servant blushed, “It was nothing, really. I’m just glad I was able to learn of your plot to save the Lady Elain.”

“Save?” I glanced up, “Most staff seemed convinced that she was being well cared for and might not need saving.”

Thaylia glanced away, “I haven’t seen her in days, Lord Lucien. She is normally with the King and Queen, at least one of them, wherever they go.”

“Have you heard anything that might explain why?” I frowned in concern.

“Some people think she might have been relocated to another part of the palace,” She pointed to an unnamed icon on the map she had drawn, “This leads to the lower levels. Serving staff don’t go down there.”

“The lower levels…” I considered what that might mean. I didn’t like the thought.

Thaylia spoke what I was thinking, “The dungeons.”

“Why move her?” I couldn’t help the pain in my tone. To think of my mate being mistreated brought physical pain.

“Perhaps it is because she stood up to the Lady Ophna?”

I gathered up the maps and notes I had been accumulating over the last few weeks, “We need to find a way in. Whether it be to negotiate or to stealth Elain out, I can’t wait any longer.”

Thaylia’s look of concern was shared among many other of the trusted companions I had grown since arriving in Hybern. 

“I’ll find Lady Elain,” Mordin, a castle guard spoke up, “Find a way to reassign to lower level patrols. We’ll get to her and figure out what is happening.”

“Truly?” I look gratefully at Mordin, “You’ll risk being caught. You might not survive the day… Based on what you tell me of their severe punishments.”

“I’ll test the potion,” Mordin held his head high, “And if it fails, I am prepared to face what comes.”

“Why?” I was grateful for his honor, but I hated asking such a steep price. I hadn’t known this group of vagabonds for very long.

“Hybern ’s outta control,” Wandr, the leader of the Hideout stepped forward, the first of them I had met, “An’ it won’ just be Mags and Mordin fightin’. We all will, surely. In our own way. We’ve been plannin’ a counter fer many years now. I say it’s time we finally put it ter action.”

—

A day later, I was sent an invitation to finally meet the royals in their castle. When I arrived at the gate, I was escorted through the luxuriously decorated palace until finally reaching the throne room, a hall for petitioners. The King and Queen hadn’t arrived yet, but I met a different kind of Lord instead.

“Rhysand?” I called out to the darkly-dressed high fae male who’s back was turned to me. He turned to face me, and sure enough, it was the High Lord of the Night Court. 

“I’ve been wondering when we would run into each other,” He stepped closer and gave a bow in greeting. 

I returned the motion of respect and stepped close enough to where only he could hear my soft words, “Figures they would let me see them only when a higher-ranking official decides to arrive. Why are you here?”

“For Elain,” Rhys kept his eyes ahead to keep their discussion discrete, “It turns out that she is more important to Prythian than originally expected.”

“To Prythian? As a country?”

Rhys’s face was serious and his eyes were dark, “She has been keeping a dangerous secret from all of us, Lucien. If we would have known what she was capable of, Hybern would have never gotten her hands on her.”

I narrowed my eyes, “What secret?”

But before Rhys could answer, the sound of Brannagh and Dagdan arriving brought us both to attention. They took their time heading to their seat of power before beckoning us two Prythians forward.

“To what do we owe the honor of your presence,” Brannagh leaned forward, “High Lord of the Night Court?”

Rhys bowed deeply to them both and I begrudgingly followed suit. I knew that to disrespect them this early on might get us both dismissed.

“I have heard news that the sister of High Lady Feyre is being held here against her will,” Rhysand respectfully kept his eyes lowered, head still bowed, “As Spring and Night are both strong allies, I was compelled to look into this rumor.”

“Why, the Lady Elain has come here of her own accord!” Brannagh waved her hands dramatically, “We are not the villains you say we are.”

“If that is so,” I challenged, “Then Elain will come and say so herself. Under no influence of your Daemati powers.”

Rhys gave me a warning look and I clamped my mouth shut. Better that he do the talking. 

“She is resting today,” Dagdan dismissed, “And she has expressed no desire to leave.”

“Why bother all this trouble for one female?” Brannagh leaned forward, “Is she, perhaps, your lover?”

“No, sister,” Dagdan mirrored her posture, “I believe she may be more to him than that.”

“What is she to you?” Brannagh tempted.

I glanced at Rhys, who stepped forward to draw attention back to himself, “Family. The Lady Elain is our family. And whether she wants to be here or not, as a High Lord of Prythian, she is requested back home.”

“We offer asylum,” Brannagh lied through her teeth, “We are not such vile rulers to deny a damsel in distress!”

“Did you think we would forget,” I growled, “That it was the two of you who both attempted theft of the Book of Breathings? That it was the two of you who put my High Lady’s life in danger through Daemati manipulation?”

“What makes you think that?” Dagdan asked, somewhat amused the audacity of my hatred, “Was she not intact when we last left her? And we do not have the Book of Breathings. Not more than the human half which was given freely.”

“You have made moves against Prythian and your father has campaigned against our lands. And in revenge, you have taken Elain,” I hissed, trying to keep my patience, “It doesn’t take a master magician to find that out.”

“Lucien,” Rhys was quiet, but dangerous in his warning to my temper. Then he straightened and spoke up to Brannagh and Dagdan, “Please–”

But Brannagh cut him off, “Our father, the late King of All Faeries, has left his title to my brother, High King Dagdan,” She rose to her feet and walked down the steps to get closer, “We let Prythian exist how they please, but do not underestimate our power.”

“What fucking power?” I snapped, “Even with the help from other fae territories, Hybern lost the war over Prythian!”

“Show some fucking respect!” Brannagh screamed. There was a wild air of desperation in her voice, a defense from my words of truth, “Or you will see the door! And never be allowed to see the Lady Elain again!”

At that, I stepped back. But I kept the scowl of disgust on my expression.

“Please excuse Lucien’s behavior,” Rhys eyed me, but spoke to Brannagh. She was livid, and Rhys spoke in a soothing manner to calm her, “He has a very… personal attachment to this issue.”

A moment later, Dagdan rose to his feet and stepped beside Brannagh, “Very well. We will give you three choices.”

“Are you truly in a position to bargain?” My lips curled in hatred. Rhys shot daggers of such intense thoughts at me, but my mental wards were locked tight with the potion I had consumed earlier.

“Are you truly in a position to argue?” Dagdan was finally serious now, so I didn’t respond. He continued, “Option one: Lucien can stay here with Lady Elain. Together, the two of you may hold a high position in the Court of Hybern in exchange for your devotion to our country. I would say this is the most generous of my three offers.”

He paused to let the words sink in before moving on, “Option two: Elain stays in Hybern for five years, fully devoted to serving our country. She may go where she wishes when her term is up. No more Prythian guests allowed in this time.”

I pursed my lips, willing myself to keep calm at the threat.

Dagdan held up a third finger, “Option three: you bring me the fae-half of the Book of Breathings.”

“What use do you have of the book without the Cauldron?” Rhys asked carefully.

“That is irrelevant,” Dagdan turned to walk away from my questions, “If you want to bargain, these are your choices.”

Rhys and I were silent for a moment, then he said, “May we have a moment to discuss? And return momentarily?”

Dagdan waved a hand to the High Lord, “We don’t have all day. Five minutes is all you get.”

He then gripped Brannagh by the shoulder and two of them left Rhys and I nearly alone. Obviously, they kept guards on us.

“Lucien…” Rhys sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

“I… I suppose I ruined that somewhat,” I bit my cheek, but kept my next words near inaudible, “I have eyes in the castle. Elain is missing.”

Rhys’s attention snapped, “What do you mean?”

“She has been enthralled since she got here, or at least mostly,” We both frowned at the thought, “But she has had a routine. A presence in the castle. Hells, even during public petitioning. But recently… They haven’t seen her around. They suspect she is being taken to the lower levels as punishment for something.”

“So her situation has escalated,” Rhys considered, “Perhaps this is why they won’t let us see her. Especially as a thrall, they have no reason to deny at least bringing her to us. To know she is safe. What you are saying suggests that she is not okay.”

I boiled at that. Maybe Rhys already knew, but I admitted, “She is my mate.”

“Not bound, though?”

“No,” My anger fizzled, and part of me wondered if Elain could have come here of her own free will. Perhaps to get away from an obsessive mate…

“Close?”

“I think so…”

“We can find her through that bond, I think. Even if it is incomplete.”

I shook my head, “My spies are making moves. They’ll find her. But what we need to discuss… is how we will respond to Dagdan’s demands.”

Rhys shrugged, “I suspect we can choose the simplest option. Give them the book.”

I nodded as I considered it, “Not like they can do much without the Cauldron.”

Rhys stiffened, “About that… Well…”

I stared at him incredulously, “They have the Cauldron?”

Rhys nodded gravely, “Yes. And the Book of Breathings might be all they need to have unbridled control over it.”

“So we can’t give it to him,” I shook my head, surprised at his suggestion. If he knew they had the Cauldron, why would giving them the Book be the simplest option?

“The other choices come with unacceptable conditions,” Rhys explained, “But he just wants our half of the Book? Sure, he can have it. But not as long as he has the Cauldron too.”

“It seems easier to just give him me,” I sighed.

“No, Lucien. That’s about as bad as being enthralled yourself. It would get us nowhere.”

“And we certainly can’t accept the five-year deal…”

“And so,” Rhys concluded, “We give them the book.”

Chapter Text

“My Lady,” the Winter Court traveler addressed me in the greeting hall, “I come to seek answers, rather than pose requests.”

It certainly was different. Most outsiders came for blessings from Zephan. I cocked my head, “What is it you would like to know?”

The male bowed. He was pale, yet beautiful with white hair and a neatly groomed beard. He said, “I am a scholar. One who wishes to tell the tales of Prythian in full. From history to future. And hearing you are blessed with such a gift to grant fertility… From the God of Spring himself… I must know… How you commune with him? How have you managed to meet with the God when no other High Lord has in the past?”

“Perhaps it is that I am a High Lady,” I shrugged, “Regardless, my gifts have proven fruitful, yes?”

“Yes,” His mouth upturned somewhat, “And forgive me for questioning such a gift, my Lady, but I only wish to know the events surrounding this situation. In all my life, and the lives of those before me, we have never known the Gods of Prythian. They were assumed fable!”

I stepped down from the platform which held my chair and approached, “Do you, in the Winter Court, celebrate something similar to Calanmai? Where your High Lord communes with nature and gives himself fully in honor of his power?”

“The Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, and the coldest night. Winter Court celebrates by giving gifts and spending time with family.”

“And what of the High Lord?” I prompted, “Does he experience a communion with the God of Winter on this day?”

“He performs the Rite of the Wishes,” He placed his hand over his chest, “He meets as many Winter Court fae as he can and offers gifts of warmth and sustenance. But the God of Winter does not possess the High Lord. Not unless the fae in the land oppose his kindness. Which hasn’t happened in centuries.”

“I might struggle to explain the way of the Spring Equinox,” I pondered with a finger on my chin for a moment, “I suppose it is far more primal work to bless the land for the coming of Spring. But each year, the God of Spring and the High Lord communicate for some time. In my case, I offered to let the Spring Lord stay longer. Beyond Calanmai, that is.”

“Do you communicate with him now?” The scholar held my gaze, as if searching for traces of Zephan.

“Yes,” I nodded, “I am able to communicate.”

“What knowledge he must possess…” The scholar smiled wide, but then asked an unexpected question, “I wonder if the other Gods of Prythian would be able to achieve such a vessel for blessing…”

The scholar stepped closer, too close, so I stepped back, “If there was a Rite performed such as Calanmai, perhaps. A way to speak with them and offer a longer stay. But it does require a willing host such as myself.”

“Would you be willing?” He asked eagerly, “To host more than one God?”

Feyre… Zephan emerged from his sanctuary to witness the conversation, This male’s line of questioning is concerning. You should dismiss him. 

Could the other Gods grow jealous? So envious of my position that they might try and force their way in?

I am generous with the way I treat you. But the others… I don’t know them. I don’t know what they want. They could try and force their way in if they knew they could.

Could they?

I don’t think so. Not unless they team up against us both. 

“I do not know what the other Gods of Prythian are capable of,” I finally answered the scholar, “The God of Spring is generous and allows me my freedom of thought and action. If I were to commune and host other Gods, I would need to know more first.”

The scholar stepped back at my denial, “Of course, my Lady,” Then he looked up, “Would you allow me to stay in your Court for some time to observe the blessings?”

I thought for a moment, “You will stay outside of the estate. And you may come to greeting events like today. But that will be all.”

He bowed again, “Thank you, my Lady.”

At the end of the meetings with petitioners, I decided to have lunch with Cynth and the children. They were transitioning to more solid foods now and I was eager to see what new flavors they could experience. But when I went to the nursery, they weren’t there…

“Cynth?” I called loudly. Where would they be?

A guard stationed by the nursery turned to me when I called, “You are looking for the Lady Cynth?”

I stepped over to him, “Yes, do you know where she is? Or, rather, where the younglings are?”

“While you were meeting with petitioners this morning, she took them on a walk. A different unit would have followed.”

So the guard and I went over to the command house and asked around. Cynth and the younglings hadn’t returned from their walk. Neither had the two sentries who went with. A light rise of emotion clumped in my chest. Cynth went on walks all the time. This wasn’t unusual. Tamilin left the Court relatively safe. They were safe. Nothing to be concerned with.

But there was this feeling. Something akin to blood loss. Lightheadedness.

“Let’s be extra cautious today,” I wrung my hands as I spoke with the sentries, “Please search the Court for Cynth and the twins and return them here.”

They nodded dutifully, serious to my request. While I tried to play off my attitude as calm, they knew I was worried. They could smell the fear of a mother on me. Something I had never experienced before… Why now was I feeling attached?

I picked at my lunch, but didn’t eat much. I paced around the house, the gardens, even the skies around the estate. Every hour the twins were gone, I canceled meeting after meeting. High fae of the Court were offended, but soon I overheard staff speaking rumors of the missing younglings. Too far. Too long. The aura of the estate, the guests, the staff… It grew dark and panicked. People were on edge by dinnertime. I flew to the skies in a watchful search of the land as the sun began to set.

Zephan. I yanked him out of his sanctuary, his daytime resting place.

His responding thought was instant, What is it?

The twins…

I relayed my emotions, my thoughts, my experiences of the day. In an instant, Zephan understood. 

You say that there was an overeager visitor today? Where is he now?

My eyes snapped back to the estate below. You think he is involved?

I found a sentry and descended to meet him on the ground. I asked him about the scholar, and he replied, “Though the Winter Court Scholar wished to stay and observe your open greetings with others, he left shortly after you dismissed him.”

My breath quickened and my vision turned dark. I knew what was happening. A disassociation… I couldn’t…

Hold on, Feyre, Zephan gripped my cognitive self and shoved it back into place, You can handle this. You don’t need me for this!

I can’t do it, Zephan! Please, I don’t know what to do!

What was an internal struggle between Zephan and I left my outer body a motionless husk. 

Feyre, you have a connection with them. You can find them.

I don’t know how! I don’t know what to do!

There is a bond between you and your children. Closer, even, than you and your sisters. You just need to find it… And pull… Scry for them.

I’m a horrid mother! I neglected them and don’t love them like I should! That’s why they were taken from me!

There is no right or wrong way to be a mother, Zephan was calm and consoling, Just because you don’t love them now, doesn’t mean you are a horrible mother.

A mother should love her children! I bawled, remembering my own mother. A monstrous woman who played favorite to Nesta. Who made me promise to watch after my family, even as the youngest of them all. If anyone knew what a horrible mother looked like, it was me. 

Zephan’s essence was close in a comforting gesture within my mind, The fact that you know that and understand it, means that you are doing just fine. The fact that you feel what you feel now. You might not love them now, but you don’t know them. Or what they will be. It is okay, Feyre. It is too much to love anyone unconditionally, even your own children.

I put my Court first! If I had been more devoted to them, I would be with them now!

You can’t know that, Feyre. Remember what you and Rhys said about alternate histories? We can’t know what would have happened. And we can’t know what will happen. We just need to make do with where we are now.

Will you help me find that bond, Zephan?

Who better to snoop around in your mind? I’ve seen it all, Feyre darling.

—

“Damn it all to hell!” I cursed, flinging the crystal at the wall and crumpling the map. The scrying had worked, but it did not provide a pleasant result.

Zephan responded to the results we both witnessed, That was the last sighting for Briallyn’s camp… What does she want with high fae younglings? Why yours? Why make the risk?

“Doesn’t fucking matter why, does it?” I rose and began adorning a sturdier outfit.

Are you going? Alone?

I don’t have a choice. Lucien is in Hybern with Elain, Nesta is in Night with Bryaxis. And Cassian is looking for Stryga with Nosphere. We both know Azriel has his hands full with the spies.

What about Rhys?

I slowed my preparations as I considered it. Rhys has saved me each time I did this reckless heroic act. No doubt I would need him again. But I continued getting ready despite the thought.

He has his own Court to manage. His own family. 

We both know that he cares for you like family. If not for the Court difference and distance, you’d be in a relationship. And you know it!

I blushed at the truth of it. I’m stronger than before. Far more prepared. 

I can see the truth. You’re lying through your teeth– Feyre!

I began ignoring his thoughts as I wrote down a note for my sentries to find.

You think you are no longer needed. You’d rather be the only one in danger. Well you know what? If you get yourself killed, I might die too! How’s that going to make you feel?

I stamped the note with my personal seal. I scowled at Zephan’s intrusive thoughts, If it gets too much for me to handle, I’ll call Rhys.

He needs to know sooner than that! You can’t call him on short notice when you are in danger! You have to respect his time more than that!

I pursed my lips. Zephan was winning the argument and I didn’t like that taste. I just want to prove that I don’t need help. That I can protect my children without them. I got them in this mess, I’m getting them out.

Just… Tell someone, Feyre. Someone!

You! I’m telling you. It was a desperate rebuttal and we both knew it.

I can’t… Come one, Feyre. You know I can’t do anything about it. 

I narrowed my eyes at the challenge. Could there be a way?

Even if there is a way for me to get my own body, we don’t have time to consider that. Come on, Feyre. How about Amren? Or perhaps Viviane?

Oh come on, you can’t be serious. Amren is getting married and Viviane is pregnant.

But at least someone will be ready if you need help.

Ugh! Fine. You’re so annoying. 

I stretched my Daemati tendrils over the span of my bond with Rhys and gently poked his presence. As expected, he let me in just a small bit.

Good evening, Feyre. Though it is a bit early for a visit?

I just wanted to let you know that I’m going out. South. Alone.

… What?

There is something I must do. And I don’t expect there to be trouble, but I may need your help. Zephan insisted I tell someone before I go.

Rhys didn’t reply a moment. I wondered what he thought about my words. I left the estate, sprouted feathered wings, and launched into the sky. Not a sentry said a word as I flew away. They knew I was going to do something about this situation. They knew better than to challenge their High Lady. A mother of missing younglings.

Mor is coming with you.

I was somewhat surprised. I didn’t know Mor that well. I honestly expected Rhys to be the one to come himself. But Mor? I wondered why a substitute? I returned to the ground in a stiff landing. Rhys could pinpoint my location, so he was able to direct Mor’s winnowing. 

And in mere moments, she appeared. Mor was a beautiful blonde female with Illyrian fighting leathers and a large sword on her back. Apparently it didn’t take long for her to be ready for a physical conflict.

“As you might have guessed, or been told, Rhys sent me.”

“I could fly us over the wall to start,” I suggested, “And then we can winnow the rest of the way?”

Mor shrugged, “I’m used to it. But I hear you’re new to flying. Are you sure you can support the extra weight?”

I had been carried so frequently by Rhys, I didn’t consider it to be difficult. But I twisted my mouth, “I suppose we can just… Winnow to the border, cross, and winnow to the camp?”

“Where exactly are we going?”

My expression grew dark and hateful, not towards Mor, but enough emotion told her that it was a mission of serious wrath, “To Queen Briallyn’s camp. She has taken my children.”

Mor’s own face twisted, “Lead the way, then.”

Chapter Text

In my raid over Azriel’s thoughts, I had seen everything. I knew most of his secrets already, but what I didn’t know… He was the only one who knew where the fae half of the Book of Breathings was. And after he exposed himself to me, I knew too. 

And I was now going to betray that knowledge. 

I landed in the snow of a ruined village, an Illyrian settlement abandoned by hate. The hate of an unloved son who took out every last one of his anger out on the people here. No one died, actually. But the violence was so dark, people moved away. They say that the shadowsinger who wrought the disaster brought with him shades of the vengeful dead. Those ghosts are rumored to haunt and curse each ounce of joy and luck that might have bustled here.

Though I knew this place never held such joy. There was never such luck. At least… Not for Azriel.

It had been centuries since then. All that remained was seasonal creatures who came to shelter here from the elements. And just a few years ago, the vengeful shadowsinger himself.

Azriel had never gained back a different reputation. Even though, once again, no one died. He was feared, and frankly, infamous for that fear. People loved him, but saw him as a monster. Children would play pretend about the time he destroyed a whole village and cursed the land around it. And how he might have manipulated the High Lord to gain power. That perhaps he is the ruler in the shadow and I his puppet.

I reached the largest building in the village. Largest in ground area, but flattened. I picked my way through the debris until I reached a hatch door. It led to a small wine cellar.

I knew this to be the home of a young Azriel. This small, cold, tucked away room… Housed a bastard child. Azriel was only set free when they found out how strong he could be. They should have killed him. For when Azriel rose to power, his family was ruined. They currently run a small fishing vessel on the East coast. I smirked at the memory of his father bringing home lost ‘treasure’ in hopes to sell it. It was a leather shoe.

The cellar was warded, so I simply, expertly, unwarded it. I picked out the Book that sat within. It whispered at me, a tiny voice of temptation and song. I dismissed it. I was used to voices in my head. Just because this one was particularly creepy, didn’t mean I had to let it phase me. So I pocketed the iron plates that made up the manuscript and winnowed away.

—

Lucien was pacing his apartment. I could hear his footsteps before I even knocked. He promptly answered.

“Do you have it?”

I held up a bundle wrapped in dark enchanted cloth, “Do your spies have Elain?”

Lucien nodded, “She has been located. They refuse to tell me her condition… I suspect it to be… bad…”

“Can they get her out?”

“A plan for that, too. All we need to do is distract Brannagh and Dagdan. So that they don’t notice their thrall missing.”

I nodded, “Let’s set up a meeting, then.”

And within an hour, we were summoned back to the castle. They knew that I wouldn’t be here without the book in tow. They revealed their eagerness. Did they really not suspect foul play?

Dagdan and Brannagh were standing at the foot of the stage in their throne room when we arrived. Overeager indeed…

I held the book, but didn’t say anything.

“It’s that easy,” Dagdan smiled at me, “You’d trade such an object of power for a female. Sex really is the driver for most young males.”

Lucien scoffed, but didn’t reply. Dagdan and Brannagh were well over a thousand years old. But it was clear by the previous meeting that age made little difference.

“Let us see, then,” Brannagh snapped a suspicious look to me, “Let us see the Book.”

“And what are the remaining terms of this particular deal?” I was stalling. Our arrival was only phase one.

“Remaining terms?” Dagdan raised a brow, “Why, you give us the Book. And Lucien gets a female.”

I scowled, “Be more specific, my Lord.”

“Very well,” Dagdan sighed, “You give us the Book. We give you Elain Archeron, sister of Feyre Archeron, who is High Lady of the Spring Court, widow of the late High Lord Tamlin of the Spring Court.” 

“Is that enough for you?” Brannagh snapped, “Give us the book.”

“Not quite,” I pondered aloud slowly, “ When do you plan on giving us Lady Elain?”

Dagdan and Brannagh hesitated. I could tell they were communicating thoughts through Daemati powers. I had caught their trick.

I noticed a servant appear in the corner of my vision. She whispered something to a guard, who nodded. His eyes were on me, but I kept my attention on the twin royals before me.

“We will need time to confirm the book is no trick,” Dagdan started, “When that is so confirmed, Elain will be free to go. No later than the next full moon.”

I pulled the other half of the Book of Breathings from my pocket. Brannagh rose to her feet and walked towards me. I said, “It’s a bargain.”

— Elain —

The void began to fade as my senses returned. It was a slow healing, Brannagh had provided a faerie to bring me back to health. But the health was not fully welcome. The return of sensation was a return to pain. I couldn’t see yet, but I could feel that I was deeply wounded. Today I could hear… and I realized that I had been screaming as the healer worked on me today. 

“Mother’s touch to ease the pain. Life returns in healing rain,” The nurse was singing in attempts to soothe, “Gentle love is what you need. You will feel better indeed. Give it time, magic heals all. Fear no death, you will not fall…”

Cauldron… I was desperate as I scratched the cast-iron shell, Help me…

For a brief moment, I felt an impression. It was a sort of stubborn emotion and I knew… the Cauldron was hiding from Brannagh and Dagdan. As long as they were in my mind, I would not be able to commune with it. But the impression was fleeting. A tiny speck, I wasn’t sure if it was the Cauldron explaining to me personally, or if I was imagining this to be the reason. 

After some time, the pain numbed into a light sensation. I could still feel, but the healer must have drugged me. But there was something else about it. Each thought that occurred to me was immediately forgotten and replaced with another. I sat up and the dark room around me spun.

I was still in the room with the furnace that burned me. I had been placed on the table for healing, but the healer was nowhere to be seen. In fact, it seemed that I was completely alone. I looked at my hands. The skin was wrinkled and scarred red. I could only imagine what the rest of me looked like… So I reached up and felt… No hair on my head. 

I didn’t feel sad or angry over it. Not after what I’ve been through so far. But it was sort of like… a final straw. A moment when I realized… Maybe I didn’t care. What did I have to fight for, really? Wasn’t I that pitiful coward of the Ouroboros? 

That was it, I think. I reached out to the tendrils belonging to Brannagh or Dagdan, I didn’t know for sure. I’d tell them that I didn’t care anymore. That they’ve won.

But when I reached out… I found… nothing…? Where were they? They were always watching, right?

Or… Was the numbing drug that the healer prescribed… Did that block more than just pain?

Hesitantly, I reached for a different essence. I brushed the black cognitive iron in the back of my mind.

Mother…

I nearly collapsed to the floor in relief. Finally… The Cauldron finally spoke to me.

Please, I begged, Seal my mind from any invaders. No more unwelcome guests. Not unless I allow it!

A satisfied sigh ran through my mind and I was suddenly calmed. I felt solid… Secure. And I knew the power was mine again. Ours. Shared. I’d never cringe at the presence of this needy being again. 

I was tempted to do so much… Fix myself, winnow away, find Lucien. Better yet, find the twin Royals and kill them. Burn Hybern to the ground and relocate any good person to Prythian. 

The door opened and the healer returned back-first with her hands full of cloth. I braced myself, pulling some of the Cauldron’s deadly power in preparation for her response.

But when she turned to look at me, her shoulders slumped with expected relief, “You’re awake.”

I nodded slowly, but didn’t respond.

The healer brought the bundle towards me and set it on the table next to me. She began holding up gowns. They were simple servant outfits, some were male’s clothes, even. 

“You’re leaving the Castle, Lady Elain,” She explained, “So which type of servant do you want to play when you do?”

“You…” I swallowed at the rasp in my voice, “You plan to get me out?”

“I dosed you with a potion given by Lord Lucien,” The healer held up another outfit, “It is tested to work against Daemati powers.” She frowned at my burns, “And heavily laced with numbing to ease the pain.”

“Lucien is here?” I shrank into myself, suddenly conscious of how I might look.

The healer nodded, “He provided us with the opportunity to get you out. But the coupe has been planned for decades. We only needed one last push. But later. We talk later. We need to get you free before the King or Queen realize you are no longer under either of their control.”

I nodded, then pointed to a male’s outfit. Being bald and wrinkled, I could play an old man, I supposed. 

The healer led me through the dungeons until we reached a stairwell. Up. Out, surely. I stopped for a moment, considering. All I wanted to do… 

“Where is Lucien?” I asked.

“Distracting the royals,” the Healer explained as she climbed the steps.

“Is he in danger?” I found a loose golden thread in my mind. I knew what was on the other side. I could… find him with it.

“I don’t expect so,” The healer stopped when she realized I wasn’t following, “Most of this is happening outside of his involvement.”

I frowned with anger, determination, really. What was I doing? So long without power and I was back to this? This wretched coward? A damsel who needs saving? Not anymore. Not anymore.

“Hybern will get what is coming to them,” I hissed, “Evacuate the Castle. Maybe even the island. Go to Prythian.”

My gaze met the healer’s, who stared at me with wide-eyed awe. As if she was looking at a savior, something she couldn’t believe.

My skin was cold, but not uncontrolled like before. With the Cauldron’s help, I could tame its power. Power flickered in the air around me and the healer could feel it too. She nodded once.

Before any more words could be said, I winnowed.

Chapter Text

A swirl of night-court tattoos formed at the base of Rhys’s neck and I imagined similar bargain tattoos formed on the twin royals’. Brannagh collected the book from the High Lord with a gluttonous smile of satisfaction. But in a mere moment, the smile faded into panic and anger. 

“Is something wrong?” Rhys asked innocently. But we both knew that Brannagh had realized the trick. That Elain was freed from their thrall via the potion. 

Brannagh recomposed herself, “Won’t you stay for dinner?” She smiled sweetly.

I glanced at Rhys in confusion, “Just a moment ago, you were ready to be rid of us.”

“Let’s not end this day on a bad note,” Dagdan rose and joined his sister’s side, “Stay a while.”

“We will wait in the town,” Rhys kept his face neutral, “And you can send Elain to us when you have confirmed the Book’s properties.”

“Why stay in a shabby inn when you can stay in a castle?” Brannagh tempted, “It’ll only be a few weeks.”

“Truly,” Rhys bowed respectfully, “No disrespect, but we would rather reside in the town.”

“Stay,” Dagdan’s voice was commanding and serious, “We insist.”

Rhys hesitated, then asked, “Is that a direct order?”

Dagdan and Brannagh kept their faces in smiles, but there was a further pause before Dagdan finally answered, “Not an order. If you are truly distrusting of us, I suppose you are welcome to stay wherever you like.”

My shoulders relaxed from the tension I hadn’t realized was building. Finally, Rhys answered, “We will be just beyond your walls.”

Then he turned and began to depart the castle. I joined his pacing and didn’t look back.

When we had cleared the stony walls, even the outer courtyard, a guard approached us. It was Mordin.

“Elain has been freed,” He whispered to us quietly.

“Take us to her,” I immediately insisted.

Mordin shook his head gravely, “She has asked us to evacuate the island.”

“What?” I demanded, “Where is she?”

Mordin shuffled uncomfortably under my glare, “Apologies, my Lord… She insisted that she can handle the rest from here.”

Rhys closed his eyes and sighed, “I should have expected as much. Let us honor her wishes, then.”

“You’re going to let her…” I was shocked at Rhys’s calm response to this, “What is this secret you mentioned earlier?”

Rhys eyed the guard, “Prepare a ship. Gather your people and as many as you can.” Rhys pulled out a hefty bag, “This should cover the payment for at least ten galleys.”

Mordin bowed deeply, “It will be done, my Lord. We will be in your debt.”

“No,” Rhys corrected, “All we ask is that you get as many innocent fae from Hybern as possible.”

“Rhys,” I pushed again, “What the fuck is going on?”

He waited until Mordin was out of earshot before finally responding, “Elain is the vessel for the Cauldron’s power.”

My response was to stare blankly and try to understand what metaphor he was using.

Rhys rubbed his eyes with his fingers and explained, “She has bargained with the Cauldron itself, taken it’s power into her, and has control. I assume that Dagdan and Brannagh were able to take control of her, and in doing so, Elain hid away that part of her.”

“You’re serious?” I asked, “I mean, are you sure?”

“Bryaxis confirmed it,” Rhys sighed, “I would have rather heard from Elain herself, but it is her bargain that remade the three of them.”

“You don’t suppose that by giving Brannagh the Book, she would be able to control Elain?” I frowned at the potential hole in Rhys’s plan.

“I did suppose,” Rhys threw his hands up, “The Book was meant to be a distraction to get Elain out. And apparently, it worked! But Elain has other plans, I guess. We can’t really stand up to her and force her out, can we? Especially not after all she has been through.”

I ran my hand through my hair and rubbed at my neck, “Shit.”

“Shit indeed,” Rhys echoed. 

— Elain —

I masked all that I was and blended into the shadows. I watched as the galleys were prepared and as my mate boarded one. I also placed a pawn of my body on the table in the dungeon to stave off the twin royals. Just a little longer…

But it would take days to evacuate the city. And it would be mere hours before Dagdan and Brannagh realized the illusion.

So I winnowed back to the dungeon. Brannagh had both halves of the Book of Breathings in her hands and was staring intently at the pages. Her nose was bleeding.

Dagdan stood opposite her, staring down at the illusion of my burnt body. 

“Something is wrong,” He growled, “Her mind is unresponsive. I can’t feel the Cauldron’s power…”

My illusion was flesh-made. A husk without cognitive thought or power. No doubt that Dagdan would see nothing but a void within.

Brannagh didn’t respond. Dagdan placed a hand on the illusion of mine, “What did you do…”

After a few more minutes, blood splashed on the completed Book of Breathings and Brannagh’s skin went pale as death. 

Finally, Dagdan snapped a look to Brannagh. Scowling, he slapped the book from her hands and it went clanking across the dungeon floor. Her eyes refocused and she gripped the table to stabilize herself. 

“Why did you stop me?” She hissed at her brother.

“You were dying,” Dagdan growled, “And it seems you might have killed the vessel.”

“What?” She scoffed, “I did no such thing.”

“Look at her! She is withered and cold! Nothing within!”

Brannagh bore a glare at the illusion on the table. She placed a hand on it’s forehead and dug a nail into the wrinkled skin.

“It breathes,” She whispered, “It just…”

“It’s a husk!” Dagdan shouted suddenly, “You shattered her mind!”

“I did no such thing!”

“Then explain to me where Elain Archeron is? Or better yet, where the fuck is the Cauldron, Brannagh!”

“Don’t you shout at me!”

“Answer your King!”

“You are no King of mine!”

Dagdan rounded the table and faced his twin, “You dare–”

“I am the older twin,” Brannagh interrupted, “If anything, we are equal in superiority.”

Dagdan spat at his sister, “Males inherit the throne. We have known this our whole lives. You are a female. Politically powerless.”

“I am physically stronger than you, Dagdan,” Brannagh snapped, “And Prythian has proven that females hold political power these days.”

“What, are you progressive now ? Looking to fucking Prythian as an example of ideaology?”

“Step away,” Brannagh warned.

“You are female, sister. You were never going to be more than just a mare to fuck and progress our line.”

“I will never fuck an impure fae,” She spat.

“Then you are useless to Hybern,” Dagdan stepped back in disgust, “And a failure in procuring the Cauldron.”

Brannagh steamed with rage, her fists clenched. Energy crackled the air between the two. Energy I enhanced to destructive power. Mortar drifted from the ceiling and the ground shook. 

Dagdan stumbled, “Calm down, Brannagh, you’ll bring the whole castle down!”

But I fed Brannagh’s emotions and blinded her to consequence. She snarled, “You don’t command me!”

Dagdan reached for his sister, but the gravity in the air countered his balance. The king fell to the ground.

“Yield!” She screamed at her brother.

Dagdan attempted to stand, but I weakened his power to that of a mere babe. I could see his determination and fear and surprise and how much stronger she was to him. I could see his struggle and incomprehension. Finally, he cowed before his sibling, “Fine! You are Queen! You are my equal!”

Brannagh laughed, “After this, do you think I would accept such a rank? No, Dagdan. I am far stronger than you! You have no place on the throne!”

“Brannagh,” Dagdan coughed and blood splashed before him, “Something is wrong!”

But she couldn’t see that she was killing him under the intense pressure. Finally, bricks from the ceiling began to fall around them. It was only a matter of time…

But Brannagh gasped and stumbled back. The enhanced power rung in the air, but she no longer controlled it. And it was too late. The structure around us began to moan. She rushed to her brother’s side.

“Something is wrong,” She agreed, “Something is…” Then she realized her brother’s state. He was staring blankly even as she turned him over. Dagdan wasn’t breathing.

“No–” Brannagh cut herself off as she began working healing magic on him. But I reached out and took any power that flowed from her. She would be ineffectual here. 

In response, Brannagh gritted her teeth and took her brother into her arms. She tried to winnow, but that wouldn’t work here either. She screamed in frustration and started pulling her brother from the dungeon. I followed her struggle, but she met no guard, no servant, no help on her way up to the main level. The castle was the first to evacuate. 

“Help!” Brannagh shouted into her empty home, “Bring help!”

In a few moments, she slumped hopelessly to the ground and cradled her dead brother’s head, “Help…” She pleaded in a mere whisper.

I materialized then. Brannagh looked up to me, “You…”

“Me,” I confirmed.

“You were dead,” She said without expression.

“Oh that?” I gestured to the door that led to the dungeon, “An illusion.”

“... How…?”

“Did you really think you could tame me?” I knelt before her, “That you could turn me against my family? My own kind?”

Brannagh sobbed, “Please… My brother…”

“Why should I help you?” I growled.

“I’ll do anything…” She begged, “He is my soul, my other half… my brother…”

“I’ll give you a single choice,” I bared my teeth in a angry smile, “You can be human. The two of you.”

Brannagh sobbed again and looked at her lifeless brother, “And you will bring him back?”

I nodded.

“... Yes…”

So I snapped my fingers and Dagdan was revived. He gasped and clutched at his sister’s clothes. I held their magic at bay. They were powerless, but not yet transformed. 

I rose to my feet and began down to the dungeon again. The chamber where my illusion was kept was dusted with rubble, the ceiling collapsed. I maneuvered it around until I found the Book of Breathings. I picked it up and suddenly…

“Mother!” It howled at me, “You have returned! Mother!”

I grimaced and slammed it shut. But it kept screaming at me, begging for my affection and attention, “Oh mother, oh mother! I’m so glad you are here! And with brother as well! We are complete! We are family! Glorious day!”

I ignored the jubilations and returned to Brannagh and Dagdan. She was whispering apologies to her brother and he was crying at his defeat and her supposed hatred from before.

As I approached, I whispered to the Book, “Turn them human.”

I could feel its glee and adoration, “Yes! Speak the words! Turn them human!”

The power of the Cauldron and the Book burned through me like ice and fire. I pointed to the twins of Hybern and whispered a condemnation from an ancient language. 

Brannagh screamed in horror and Dagdan howled with pain. I continued the passage until it was complete. Until they were transformed. Until they were nothing but the mere mortals they hated for so long. 

My eyes widened with a thought. Turn them all human…

I rose, a levitation elevating me far above Hybern. I reached out to each mind and revealed their nature. Their intent. I picked out the monsters. I picked out the ancient beings who wanted to enslave humanity. The ones who had enslaved those mortals from centuries ago. Turn them! I screamed at the Book.

Yes! It shouted back joyously.

One by one, screams shrilled from the island. People began running for the galleys now, in fear of what I was doing to them. Of course, they were innocent. They had nothing to fear. I smiled victoriously, then winnowed back home.

Chapter Text

I caressed the golden metal of the harp, hearing it whisper lovingly. But not even the harp could free me from Bryaxis’s bargain. I sighed, thinking about my sisters. Elain? The Cauldron? And Feyre, possessed by the God of Spring? It was tough to imagine how far they had come. And how stale I had gotten. 

Amren had claimed that I had power to wield, right? But it seemed weak and useless in comparison to my sisters’. 

“Nesta?” It was Bryaxis, calling me to play with him or read to him or something, surely.

“Yes?” I answered with more frustration than intended.

In a moment, he came to my bedroom door and knocked, “Do you want to read together?”

“What do we read this time, Bryaxis?” 

“I was thinking you could share with me the Rise of Lady Unda ?”

It was a romance novel, one that I had just finished reading. Certainly not something I would want to share with another. I set the harp down and clambored off the bed. When I swung open my door, Bryaxis was standing in the threshold patiently.

“Pick something else?” I suggested.

“What’s wrong with that one?” He asked, but a devious smile appeared on his face.

“You know what’s wrong with it,” I snapped.

“Come on, Nesta,” Bryaxis soothed.

“Something else,” I challenged, “Because I bet you’ve already read it.”

Bryaxis chuckled softly, “I suppose you’re right. I have read it, after all. But nothing here is new. Maybe we can go to a different library?”

I clenched my fist, “You know we aren’t to leave.”

“I’m harmless in this form,” Bryaxis complained, “Let’s go to another library.”

“The only other library worth attending is in the Day Court,” I waved a hand, “And we aren’t allowed.”

“Ugh!” Bryaxis stomped his foot, “I’m so bored!”

“ I’m so bored!” I argued and pointed to myself, “I’d rather be out there with Cassian and Nosphere looking for Stryga!”

“I really don’t think you would be,” Bryaxis laughed, “Nosphere is prickly.”

“I wish that you’d just find a lover and we could be done with this bargain!” I slammed a palm to the doorframe in frustrsation.

Bryaxis’s humorous expression faltered, “Oh?”

I narrowed my eyes, “What?”

“Can you not feel…?”

“What?” I insisted, sharpening my senses.

“The bargain…”

And indeed, we were freed from each other. I gasped, “What… What happened?”

“And what of the first part of your wish?” Bryaxis was still, as if cornering a prey, “Who will replace you?”

We were silent as we listened for changes, a movement, something…

“A life…” Bryaxis whispered. As he did, I felt a distant pulse. Something of the house, something deep within…

Together, we followed the pulsing, the sensation of a creation. What would we find at the other end? We entered the library. The attendants shirked away from Bryaxis, but neither of us noticed. We were intent and hyper-focused on our target. Down… Down… Down we descended until we were in the dark that was originally Bryaxis’s prison. He didn’t hesitate. We continued on to the lowest part of the library.

The darkness was thick. Enveloping. And… gentle. It was soothing and loving and… Something. Bryaxis and I said nothing as we embraced the intangible being around us. 

After a few moments, I stepped back. Bryaxis remained behind while I ascended back to the first level of the library. I reached the reception and spoke to the attendant, “He will likely remain a while. He is no threat… But there is no removing him from this place. I’m sorry, Clotho.”

She wrote something on a pad with her mage-hand, and the pad rotated. It said, “If it can’t be helped, then we will learn to adapt.”

“Thank you for understanding,” I bowed my head somewhat, “Again, I’m sorry for intruding.” The library wasn’t off-limits, but it was a matter of respect to ask permission. Especially males, and even further more strangers. 

I ascended back to my room. I was eager to ask the harp to take me to Cassian, or even Elain. Perhaps I could see how Gwyn and Azriel were doing on their mission. But by the time I reached the ancient artifact, my thoughts had drifted to Feyre and the Spring Court. I hadn’t seen my niece and nephew in a while. Was Briallyn at bay? Though Azriel had assured us that she was no longer a threat, part of me still considered her human nature that was discussed. Unable to forget. Unable to forgive. Determination. Briallyn was hiding something. So I picked up the harp.

Where shall we go today?

Take me to Spring.

— Azriel —

When I returned to the Inn, Gwyn was still out for the evening. But even in the deep hours of the night, she didn’t return. Worry started to creep. I rarely slept purely, but I certainly wouldn’t get any rest tonight. 

Where is she? I asked the shadows of the room.

South…

From experience, I knew I wouldn’t get much more from them. I followed the shades outside, into the dark of the night. Each passing shadow directed me until I was beyond the village. And I kept going and going… A walking stride. A straight line. I narrowed my eyes trying to consider the implications. It truly was South. Aimlessly, almost. Yet a determined direction. Possession? Perhaps the Autumn Court wasn’t as safe as others.

I puffed out my wings and rose into the sky. Faster and faster I flew, but in a few minutes, I realized that I wouldn’t find her. She would be long gone. Something prickled at my mind. Something… worrisome. So I winnowed.

And I was in the snowy mountain that held my family’s ruined estate. But when I reached for my stash, my dread became realized. Did Gwyn somehow find out where the book was? Was I betrayed?

No, too far-fetched. The only person who knew… Was Rhys… 

Velaris. In a moment, I was in Velaris. But Rhys wasn’t there. Only Amren.

“Where is Rhys?” I demanded, keeping quiet and calm to not arise suspicion. 

“Hybern,” Amren said absently, “And Cassian is out with Nosphere and Mor is with Feyre. I don’t know where Nesta is, but it seems she is free of her bargain. Regardless, here I am. All alone. Well, Varian is here, but you don’t care about that.”

“Mor is with Feyre?” I asked carefully, “Why is Rhys in Hybern?”

“Turns out,” Amren sighed, “Elain is the Cauldron? So Rhys is off to get her back. Oh, and Feyre? I guess she is doing something reckless, I don’t know. 

I mind swam. I had missed so much. I was supposed to be in the loop for everything, but I was busy playing spy in other Courts? 

“Have you seen Gwyn?” I asked.

“Gwyn?” Amren looked up from her nails, “The Valkyrie who went with you? Why would I know where she is?”

I pursed my lips. I was starting to feel useless. Wasn’t I one of the few Rhys could trust? Where to go… What to do… The Book was missing… Rhys had it… Was he the traitor? If so, do I still follow him? Is he in his right mind? 

Trust him, I told myself, He can handle it. But Feyre? Maybe Rhys needed me to see to her needs. I knew how he felt for her. And if there was anything he cared for more… I resolved to help.

— Feyre —

Just ahead, I could feel them. My children. I glanced at Mor, who returned the look.

“Would you rather I wait here? Or do you want to go loud?”

I raised a brow at her suggestion, “Go loud?”

Mor gripped her sword, “Fight our way to your children.”

I considered it, “I need to get them to safety. But you don’t need to wait here…”

I beckoned to her and veiled us both in shadow. We were camouflaged in the glamor of our surroundings.

“I’ll admit,” Mor whispered behind me, “I hadn’t considered this ability.”

So we snuck through the camp, beyond several tents and braziers, until we reached a large tent. Briallyn’s tent, no doubt. With my twins. And I could smell her within. So I enhanced our hearing… Maybe she would be asleep and helpless?

“-living fae younglings, boiled water from the Lake of Koschei, and molten ore from the starfall faeries. Well done,” It was Briallyn who spoke, “We may begin the brew.”

I gritted my teeth. We couldn’t wait. So I threw open the flap.

“Loud it is,” Mor said, standing with me.

Briallyn turned to us, but was hardly surprised. With her was Cynth, Gwyn, and the scholar.

“Traitor,” I hissed.

“Gwyn?” Mor stepped forward, “Why?”

But they didn’t reply. Their eyes were blank and unemotional. 

“They serve me,” Briallyn explained, “And soon, you will too.”

“We will never serve you,” I spat, “Return to me my children, or face my power in tenfold!”

Briallyn sighed, then an ancient crown appeared over her head, “You see, you will have no choice. No one defies me, Lady Feyre.”

Mor unsheathed her sword and circled the area, avoiding proximity to Gwyn. Fire nipped at my fingertips as I pulled power to the forefront of my grasp.

Gwyn entered battle-stance, pulling her weapons from their sheathes. Cynth had nothing, but her and the scholar pulled up their fists regardless. It was sad, really. Pathetic. It would take much more than three faeries to defeat two high fae molded by war.

Mor lunged for Gwyn, the biggest threat. They clashed in a flurry of swings and blocks, but Mor had the obvious upper hand. It was clear she held back, though. Mor had a soft-spot for the Valkyries and was hesitant to do any real damage. 

That left Cynth and the scholar, whose name I still didn’t know. I shifted into a wolf form, large and dangerous like Tamlin. Cynth lept at me and the scholar soon after. In moments, I was fending off two enthralled faeries, ripping and slashing their clothes and skin. I was sharp and deadly. In less than a minute, they were mortally wounded. Despite that, they kept trying to come at me. They were as the soldiers who raided the Spring Court. They were doomed to fight ‘til their dying breath. 

I eyed Briallyn with hate. She deserved no mercy. Not for the thousands she sent to their deaths. And especially not for the threat she angled towards my children. I crouched. Briallyn stared me down with not a hint of fear.

But when I lept for her, my mind went blank.

Chapter Text

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Gwyn?” I asked as Azriel walked up to me at the gate of the estate. The grounds were quiet… Not even the nocturnal creatures made a sound.

“She left,” Azriel replied simply, “Something is wrong.”

“I felt it too,” I mused absently, “Why have you chosen to go to Spring, though? Why not Rhys?”

“I must trust him,” Azriel said firmly, “And Feyre is in danger.”

“What?” I placed a hand on the iron gate, “How do you know?”

“Rhys sent Mor,” Azriel explained, “But that’s all I know.”

I nodded, then pushed to the estate. Azriel followed, and in a few moments, we were approached by a guard. He, of course, recognized me. Azriel, not so much. 

“Nesta,” He bowed a head to me, but kept his gaze on the winged Illyrian next to me.

“Where is my sister?” I demanded.

He kept his face firm, but I could see the anxiety in his eyes, “She has left the Spring Court in search of her children.”

“What?!” I snapped, “What happened to Kore and Zephyr?”

The guard’s nostrils flared, “It is unknown. The majority of the estate is on high alert. High Lady Feyre’s note indicates they were taken South to Queen Briallyn’s temporary war camp.”

I hissed a curse then whirled to Azriel, “You coming?”

He nodded, his eyes filled with such a fierce flame of blue that I knew all our enemies would crumble today. 

I pulled out the harp, and without dismissing the guard, I grasped Azriel’s hand and plucked the advised notes to take us to Feyre.

And we arrived to quite the scene.

Two bloodied corpses were before us. Feyre was in her wolf form, passively resting in a corner. Mor and Gwyn were kneeling next to her. And Queen Briallyn was holding my niece and nephew in each arm. Heat pulsated in an icy energy as I pulled Ataraxia from her sheath at my back. 

“Oh!” Queen Briallyn looked to us in surprise, “More guests?”

“Put them down,” I barked, “Now!”

“You really shouldn’t interrupt,” the Queen complained, then placed the sleeping infants back on a nearby cushion, “I was just about to cast the spell.”

I pointed my weapon in her direction, “You really need to learn when to give up! ”

“Give up?” Briallyn snapped, “Would you? If you had this withered and weak form? No, of course not! No one can love me, no one can even look me in the eye! I’m hideous!”

“And you think casting some spell would make it better?” I sneered, “You were pretty bad before, too.”

Briallyn’s face wrinkled further, “I care not what some fae whore thinks. Feyre!”

My attention snapped to my sister, who in her wolf form, rose to her feet. She was massive in size, as terrifying as Tamlin when he first crashed through our cottage years ago.

She stepped next to Briallyn who placed a hand on her head, “But you will apologize for your insolence, whore!”

“Perhaps if you surrender peacefully,” I challenged, “Return my family, Morrigan, and Gwyn. Return to your lands. Never step foot on this continent again!”

“You love your family so much?” Briallyn snapped, hand clenched on Feyre’s fur, “Kill them,” She commanded.

And I was shocked before to find Feyre so passive when her children were in danger. But now? She lept at me. I brought up my weapon in a block as Feyre raked a paw at me. But Ataraxia was so sharp, so dangerous. It’s enchantment… Feyre’s fingers were sliced clean off. She didn’t even flinch at the amputation, though. Feyre lept again and I lept back. I couldn’t… I would kill her!

Azriel stepped between us and shackled Feyre to the ground with his crackling blue power, “Kill her,” he hissed to me as he strained under Feyre’s own brute power. She was High Lady. She was Spring. She could overpower him if his concentration broke for a second.

I lunged for Briallyn, who held her palm to me casually. And I felt it. Power whispered at me, wrapped around my mind. Demanding I crumble to Briallyn’s will. So I hesitated. The two of us were a swing away. In one clean strike, I could take her down. I could…

Peace, Lady… A sweet voice echoed in my mind. I started to calm, but…

I pushed against it. I was incapable of peace! Peace was a lie! My power flickered and pushed on the will that threatened to overtake me.

I screamed in pain as a power struggle warred between Briallyn and I. Kneel! That sweet voice screamed.

“No!” I shrilled, then gripped Ataraxia. Move! I demanded my arm move. I pushed on the muscles, strained, willed them, begged. I felt tears drip down my cheek, “No!” Then as if a dam broke, my arm snapped up in a violent attack. The blade landed at Briallyn’s throat, cut across her jaw, her face, and vertically sliced her head. Queen Briallyn’s expression crumpled, her face peeled apart as the freed half of her skull slid towards her shoulder, then to the ground. The crown atop her head had snapped in two, and with the fallen piece of Briallyn, the evil queen fell.

I panted as the energy in the air dissipated. Then, two babies began crying in desperate need.

I sheathed Ataraxia as Feyre ripped from Azriel’s grip. She transformed into her female self and collected her younglings in a deep embrace. She rocked them and wept with them.

“Oh Gods,” Gwyn gasped, “Oh Gods above and below…”

I looked over to my friend, my fellow Valkyrie, “Gwyn…” I rushed to her side and grabbed her hands, “What happened?”

“She has the crown,” Gwyn’s eyes were wide with terror, “What have I done?!”

I looked over to the fallen pieces. Azriel was kneeling to pick them up, “It wasn’t you,” I pulled Gwyn close, “It was her. You didn’t do anything you could regret.”

“Nesta!” Gwyn gasped and wept into my shoulder.

“The crown,” Azriel spoke from where Briallyn had fallen, “She had it all this time… Where is the book?”

“Book?” I asked, not turning from the comfort I was offering Gwyn.

“Gwyn,” Azriel came closer, “Where is the Book?”

“W-What book?” Gwyn stammered and broke from our hug.

“She didn’t make you take it…?” Azriel confirmed.

“No,” Gwyn swallowed and wiped away her tears, “She only had me working to keep her secrets from you.”

Azriel was silent for a moment, then turned to Feyre, “Feyre, where is Rhys?”

— Feyre —

Rhys… I pushed on the bond, far, far, far away… Further than ever before. But Rhys was there. Rhys…

Feyre? His response was quiet, distant.

Briallyn is dea d, I relayed the events of the mission, But Azriel says the Book is missing…

I took it… But the reply was hard to read. He was so far away.

Are we in danger?

No… We are returning. Elain is free…

I sighed, then relayed the news to the group.

“We should head back,” Mor stood from where she knelt by Nesta and Gwyn.

“What of Briallyn’s army?” I asked, “Won’t they seek revenge on their fallen Queen?”

The group was silent for a moment, contemplative. 

“The human queens,” Azriel suggested, “Aren’t there a few we have a working relationship with?”

“Yes,” Nesta nodded, “I think they are holed up in a keep somewhere to the West of the continent.”

I stood up taller. The twins had calmed down as I held them, but they were awake and looking around. They were okay.

“Nesta, Mor, and Gwyn,” I looked at the female warriors, “Find the Queens, deal with the army, and soothe any misgivings. Briallyn stuck first and we will not have her choices cause any further damage to this land.” I turned to Azriel, “You and I are going to Prythian. We need to warn the Western Courts about incoming refugees.”

“Tomorrow?” Mor asked, but she stretched as if she would be willing to take ‘no’ for an answer.

“Sure,” I shrugged, “We can’t be diplomats in the dead of night. But we sure as hells can’t stay here.”

“Agreed,” Gwyn frowned at the bloodied corpses I had left. I eyed the body of Cynth. She was innocent in this… and I had brutalized her. Called her a traitor… I pushed that guilt back… back… to the back of my mind. I can’t know what would have happened. I can’t change what I did.

Chapter Text

The mountain was transformed. Complete. Renewed. Safe.

The walls were adorned with symbolic tapestries, one for each Court of Prythian. And one blank tapestry. I wasn’t sure what it represented yet, but I felt it was right. The floor was no longer rough stone, but a sleek marble, white and beautiful. A large round table with the Cauldron in the center, elevated by silver chains. Tasteful and peaceful. And to top it off, I cursed the structure around me. Magic would be impossible here. Death would be impossible. This mountain would be the home of true peace and life. Neutrality. Safe. 

I had worked on other areas in the mountain as well. It was homely, themed to each court. And in the peak was a single chamber. Locked only to the keeper of the Cauldron: me.

I set the Book of Breathings there. It was placed in a chest, twice bound. Thrice, if you include the room itself. No one could contain the power. Not even I. 

After the last week of remaking the sacred mountain of the middle, recovering, relaxing… I had realized what power I would be capable of. I feared that if I were to leave this mountain, I would face temptation. But I didn’t want to leave the book… And I certainly couldn’t take it with me. 

But today, I willed myself to part with it. Don’t look back, I told myself. Don’t consider what you can do with it.

But as I prepared to winnow back to Spring, I locked up. I just… Fuck, I just couldn’t do it…

So I sat back at the round table again, considering how I could just… leave…

— Lucien —

As the last galley was loaded, fires bloomed on the island of Hybern. Ours was the last to leave. Rhys and nine other ships had set sail to Prythian days ago. But Elain hadn’t shown her face.

But from faerie reports, she had wrought her revenge. Many fae on the island were remade, including Brannagh and Dagdan. Human now. This land would be human… A cruel fate for fae centuries old. 

And so the inhabitants, those left behind, would need to face their new life. Many killed themselves in shame and self-loathing. Many faeries opted to stay and restructure the political landscape. Brannagh and Dagdan were holed up in their castle, no doubt plotting their next moves. Hopefully, they wouldn’t mess with Prythian again. 

“We have confirmed,” The ship’s captain approached me, “No other faerie wishes to leave this cursed land.”

“Hardly cursed,” I corrected, “But… staying here will be hard.”

“Regardless,” the captain shrugged, “We are prepared to launch.”

“Do so,” I nodded, “And I will leave your journey in your capable hands. I am not needed here.”

The captain bowed, “We will not forget you, Lucien. Where can we find you in Prythian?”

I wasn’t sure the answer to that. Day Court? Spring? Where was my home to be? Where was Elain?

“Spring Court,” I answered, “My family is in Spring.”

And with the final goodbye, I winnowed there.

But when I inquired to Elain’s whereabouts, no one knew. Perhaps she wanted to be alone? But it had been too long since I had last seen her. Too long…

I found Feyre.

“I don’t think she is in any danger,” She replied to my worries, “But I think Nesta might be able to take you to her. With the harp, I mean.”

“Where is Nesta?” I asked, thinking she might be in the Night Court as usual.

“She was working with the humans’ resettlement back into their lands. As a former human herself, she would be well suited to communicating with them.”

I frowned, “Any advice?”

“On what to do with Elain?” Feyre glanced to her desk, a map of Prythian sat, “I suppose you could scry. Maybe use your bond?”

So we sat together at her desk, combining our magics… Until we learned where Elain had resided. Alive. In the middle. At the Sacred Mountain.

I sighed, “Why did she go there?”

Feyre frowned, “I don’t know… It’s not like it has any significance to her.”

I rose, “I will find her. Just… to check up.”

“Be careful,” Feyre stood with me, “I think we all know what she is capable of.”

“She’s been like this since Tamlin died,” Feyre winced, but I continued, “She has never been a threat before.”

“But with the Book of Breathings?” Feyre pointed out, “We don’t know how she might have changed.”

I looked to the map again, taking my eyes from Feyre, “All the more reason to find her. She is still… a person.”

The declaration came out more uncertain than intended.

—

When I arrived at the Sacred Mountain, I immediately noticed the change. It was no longer a Court of Nightmares. It was… tranquil. I wandered down the brightly lit and welcoming hall that led to the main chamber. And that was where I found Elain, standing with her back to me before a waterfall. She wore a beautiful gown of silver and black, her blonde hair tied in a neat braid that crowned her head. She surely knew I was here. But said nothing as I approached. 

“Elain…” I started, reaching out for her. But I hesitated, unsure if she wanted to be touched.

She turned to me and I relaxed. Elain was safe and unharmed. Still beautiful, but her eyes were no longer the same warm brown from before. Now, they were glowing with a marbling of silver. It reminded me of chocolate or some decadent desert. Beautiful. But she still said nothing as she looked into my own eyes, including the mechanical one.

“Have you been here the whole time?” I asked carefully, “You’ve done a beautiful job with this place…”

“I can fix that,” Elain stared into my metal eye, “I can bring back your loss.”

“My… my eye?” I placed a hand on my upper cheek, “No, that’s okay. This one is an enhancement.”

She nodded, “As you wish.”

“But you are truly…” I swallowed to clear the nerves from my throat, “You have the Cauldron’s power?”

Elain nodded, expression searching mine.

“What do you want to do with it?” I asked carefully. She could do anything she wanted. 

“I want to help,” She whispered, “But… I don’t want to presume… I just want to be…”

“I know,” I grasped her hand, “But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Elain.”

She released my hands and grabbed me, pulling me into a hug. I felt her shake… crying…

I rubbed at her back, calming her. After a few moments, she composed herself, but kept the embrace.

“I just…” She breathed in a sharp sob, leftover from her breakdown, “I can’t hold it all and do nothing.”

“We can figure it out, Elain,” I whispered, “You are not a tool or a weapon or something to be used… You are a person. You are free to be who you want. Even if that means you are just… You.”

“Truly?” Elain whispered in response, “Could I truly just be a vessel? Not use the power?”

“I mean, you can use it when and how you want, Elain,” I pulled from the hug and stared into her beautiful eyes, “Or choose not to. You are under no obligation.”

She bit at her cheek, then nodded. 

“Do you want to stay here?” I asked quietly, unsure, “Or do you want to see your sisters? They’ve missed you terribly.”

Elain closed her eyes, “Maybe just… Stay here for a while.”

I smiled encouragingly, “May I stay with you?”

She nodded, “I would like that.”