"Mother! Get up!"
Eris was screaming. She had woken up to a slam. She bolted upright, staring at her bewildered son. His eyes were blazing when they landed on Beron. When he first walked in, she noticed, he took his time to look at the scenery in the room. First the windows, then the large paintings, then the grand wardrobe. His eyes looked over the gigantic fireplaces and the cold breeze going through the open windows. His eyes lingered at the dark hard-wood floors and the blood red marble walls. He had never been in the room before, as he was heavily forbidden to enter it by Beron. Because of this, she mostly slept in a plain guestroom, but tonight was a special night, and she was naked. She bundled the blankets around her body frantically. Eris had connected the dots quickly but he was of age to understand that it was one of the many duties she was forced to do in order to stay alive. Unlike the rest of her sons, he had caught Beron doing horrific things to her on multiple occasions – putting hands on her, holding her down, belittling her. At least this didn't have anything to do with violence.
"Eris," she said softly.
"Have you lost your goddamned mind?" Beron had snarled, landing on his feet. Unlike him, she had already absorbed the screaming past the walls. Beron's beady eyes only noticed the bloody knife in Eris's hand. Eris had locked the door behind him, starring murderously at his father. She knew for a while now that Eris was planning on taking the crown, despite her constant reminders to him that being High Lord was not something to wish for. And then a thought came to her that caused her stomach to churn. Was the screaming behind the locked door due to him?
"Beron," she rasped, taking notice that Eris was yet to speak. She had to give him time to think, to reconsider whatever he could be planning. "Someone's here. In the palace." Beron's head shot towards the door. Suddenly, he heard the grunts as well. The loud thuds, the screeches, the shuffling of feet. If he was able to grow any paler, he would. But his mouth opened and closed, a terrified look gleaming in his eyes. She took in a ragged breath as a blast grew closer to their door.
"What are you doing? Don't stand here like a coward. Go do your duty and fight for your court!" Beron roared at his son, but it was only because Beron knew that he didn't stand a chance against anyone past those doors. Eris's eyes widened. As Beron quarreled with him, she opened the drawer next to her, getting out a knife as well.
"Get her out," Eris demanded simply, nodding towards his mother. After a short moment of puzzlement, his father scuffed at him. Eris didn't give his father a long enough moment to reach mockery – instead he pointed his knife at him, enraged.
"I didn't come here to defend you. I came here to tell you to get her out." Beron's head shot towards her. She had reached for a robe that had been left on the ground and she was putting it on rapidly.
"Get that knife away from me," Beron snarled, his eyes round. Her eyes stayed on the walls, trying to ignore the wailing but Eris was right – they had to leave. And she knew, despite Beron's ignorance, why he was wasting his time on giving Beron the benefit of the doubt instead of getting her out himself. Whoever was past those doors wouldn't kill a high lord – it was too messy, filled with far more undesirable consequences than killing a possible successor. If they killed a high lord, the message they were trying to send out would remain unheard because there would be no one left to answer to it. The whole world had watched what happened between the Night Court and the Spring Court all those years ago. It never ended, not really. And unless these people were trying to start a century-long war, which would be tedious and risk far more lives than needed, they would let the High Lord flee.
"Or what?" Eris hissed back. Beron's nose flared.
"No, Beron!" She yelled, but he already lifted his hand. She tried going between them but her son pushed her aside so fast that she stumbled against the wall harshly, making her let out a screech. Yet, as her heartbeat quickened and opened her mouth to yell his name, she realized something was off about her son – he looked far too calm to test Beron's wrath, maybe even bored. Beron rose his hand. A harsh exhale let out, but Eris stayed stagnant. She waited for Beron's magic to hit him, her eyes sharp on Eris, but Beron's hand merely lingered in the air. She blinked suddenly, waiting for a response but then bewilderment flashed across Beron's face. Though Eris was far past impatient, there was a victorious smirk on his lips. Beron's mouth hung open.
"What the-"
"If you would have listened," Eris's voice rang lowly, taking a step towards him, "I would've told you that they put a shield around the palace that ceased all magic from being let out." Beron let out a shaky breath as he took one step back.
"Eris," she let out warningly. But Eris's knife was up. There was a mad glint in his eyes, a moment that his mother had recently predicted. She knew that Eris was preparing to take the throne, but not now. Not like this.
"Stay out of it," he growled at her, and she winced. Her son had never spoken to her with that tone– filled with such coldness. Ruthlessness.
"You'd kill your own father?" Beron goaded. Instantly, his smirk had dropped. A seriousness flooded his face, a moment of honesty. A look that was far more terrifying.
"Yes," Eris said flatly. A loud sound boomed behind him, making the three of them twitch. "If you don't take her with you." Beron shook his head.
"I'm not going out there," Beron stammered. "I'm not risking my-" And then Eris took two careful steps and went for his throat. Of course, that would have been disastrous if Beron hadn't stepped to the side. Eris, though a better fighter, stumbled in shock and Beron took the moment to punch him in the face. The knife flew away, landing next to her foot. And then, just a second later, there were two knives in her hands. There was dead silence as the two males looked over her, so calm yet hesitant. Hesitant because while she had let Beron step all over her for years, she finally held the power. Eris, on the other hand, was desperate. Desperate to get the knife, desperate to kill his father.
"Mother," Eris said quietly, reaching towards her. "Give me the knife." She stepped back, the knives growing heavier in her hand. She had forgotten how it felt – to not feel weak, to feel the power in her veins.
"It's not going to happen like this, Eris," she said, her voice cool.
"Yes, it isn't," Beron interrupted. Her head shot towards him. His eyes were filled with fury but there was a smile on his face. "Give it." The demand, sharp as the knives she held, made her flinch. Whether or not Beron noticed, Eris certainly did. Eris opened his mouth but a large boom interrupted him, making the three of them jump. Quickly, Eris shot towards his father.
"I don't need a knife to kill you," Eris growled. He jumped towards him, lunging, but then the door burst open. She let out a ragged inhale as she stumbled back. A range of men stomped in, wearing colors she didn't recognize. Eris was screaming, trying to scare them away with threats he didn't have. Beron cowered in the far corner.
"One step further and my sons' will kill you!" Beron bellowed. "I'll give you this moment of mercy." The man at front, probably the largest man she had ever seen, chuckled.
"You're implying that you have more than one?" The man rang, and her hand went to her mouth as she struggled to not let out the animal-like sound begging to come out. Despite the fact she loved the rest of her boys, when Eris had barged into her room her only thoughts were towards him. She couldn't help it – he became her favorite when Lucien left. And when her husband was ready to kill him need be, her only thoughts were him.
"They're dead?" she whispered, her voice breaking. Her son was heaving as he stumbled away from the invaders. The man jerked towards her, blinking. Clearly, he hadn't even noticed she was in the room. The smile, thin and sour, lengthened.
"Worse," the man said dryly, "they fled like bastards." Her hand dropped to her side. Eris, who had been standing straight and ready to fight, slackened. She knew what he was thinking – despite his desire to conquer, he had trained them through the years to be braver, fiercer. In a way, she believed that Eris was embarrassed by their cowardice. And in the end, his training had done nothing.
She looked at all of them. The invaders, her husband, her son. She looked at the door that was wide open and how all of their eyes lingered towards Beron obsessively. The man at front was clearly the leader, approaching Beron as he whimpered. And so she did the worse thing possible – she flung the two knives at Beron, letting them fall to his feet. Her son, incapable of understanding why she would give the two knives to his doomed father, looked at her ludicrously but she used the moment of distraction to stumble towards him, grabbing his hand tightly. As the men began to circle Beron, their eyes only on him, they took it as their cue to leave. Of course, in doing so, they had to dodge a number of hands reaching towards them but to her surprise, they made it out of the room.
They ran down the hall, trying not to gape at the trail of blood. Eris's bedroom was wide open and in the doorway was a dead body. Finally, she looked at her son.
"Is this your doing?" She snarled, getting to the stairs. "Did you do this?" Eris opened his mouth, about to answer, but then she felt a hand yank her back. She let out a screech, looking at the man who had caught her. He was looking at her greedily.
"The Lady of Autumn," he whispered to himself, as if she was a prize. "It's so very good to meet you." Eris charged at him but a second man had grabbed him as well. At a distance, they heard Beron's screams. She and Eris were wrong – clearly they were planning on killing him.
"Don't do this," she said softly, her voice calm. The man's eyes were as black as night. "I don't know who you are, or where you come from, but-" And then he punched her in the face. Eris yelled as she fell down the marble staircase, miraculously landing on her side. Yet, everything was spinning. She couldn't concentrate as she opened her eyes.
"Let go of her!" Her son roared. "Don't you-" And then his voice turned into muffles and before she could understand what was happening, to even lift her heavy head in his direction, she felt a black cloth tie around her eyes. She let out a heavy inhale. It was over, she thought. They were going to die.
She felt her hands bind together, tying them so tightly that her hands already ached. And when she opened her mouth to scream, two drops of liquid fell into her mouth. She tried spitting it out but the man had closed her mouth, forcing her to swallow it. As it dripped down her throat, her throat burned. Though there was nothing to see, she began to feel dizzy. Distant.
"I always thought you were the prettiest, you know, out of all the ladies. Even against Feyre Cursebreaker," the kidnapper chuckled. "It's a shame that you spent your life with that dunce." That dunce. Dunce, as in her husband. She could hear his screaming, his yells, but his voice grew farther and farther away. She still heard the faint muffles from her son, but they sounded weaker. Even her own breaths felt less lively, as if her lungs were shriveling. She was going to die, she thought. This was how her story ended.
But then she felt a whip of air. No – a whip was an understatement. It was like a tornado had bursted into the room, hitting them with one gigantic wave. Even past the black cloth, she saw a burst of light. Men around her yelped, including her own son. But then she heard the word, one single word that was so soft that it reminded her of a feather.
"Eva."
"Well, this got very-" And then the man who had spoken to her grunted. He banged against something, probably the railing to the staircase, and inhaled raggedly. She tried leaning up on her elbows but whatever he had given her was taking effect. She could barely keep her head up. Everything sounded so far away, she couldn't lift her own body.
"Unfortunately," her kidnapper hissed, and he sounded miles and miles away, "she's off the market." Another voice replied and though she couldn't hear the words, the voice was sharp. Impatient. The other didn't speak for a moment.
"Six million," her kidnapper said finally. Even half-awake the Lady of Autumn felt shocked by his words. The other was quiet for a moment but then he uttered something. Even from where she was standing, she could feel the kidnapper grow happier.
"How am I supposed to know that you won't send her back?" The kidnapper spat, after pondering his words. "Surely even you understand that we have a message to send. Who would we be if we let his lady prance her way back?" And then the man replied fast, his voice sharp as a knife. But before she could hear the rest, she felt her head fall back onto the marble. Slowly, she closed her eyes. There was no reason to fight the sleepiness, not when death wasn't far away.
~*~ discidium ~*~
Everything was white.
When Eva opened her eyes again, she was in a canopy. She didn't move for a moment, only staring at the white cloth that hung over the large bed. Her eyes fell downward, a fear looming in her mind. She was still wearing the robe she had worn earlier but there was red splattered on it and two large bruises circled around her wrists. With her head pulsing with a sharp pain, she sat up. The walls were just as white as the canopy, almost as if they were recently painted. Between the ceiling and each wall was a small strip of gold. The tiles, as she looked down, was white marble with gold specks on them. Slowly and carefully, she got out of the bed. Beside the bed, there were two white flip flops, clearly for her. She slipped into them hesitantly.
She looked at the white door. It wasn't extravagant – just a plain door. But all she could think about was what was past it. Where was she? Vaguely, flashes of what had happened recently echoed in her head but the throbbing made it impossible for her to put the puzzle together. She let out a shaky breath as she looked at the door. Centuries ago, she was brave. She would have opened that door without a hesitation. But now as she eyed it, she was ill with the horrible things that could happen. Who was waiting past those doors? But she knew she had no choice. She had to figure out where she was. So, quietly, she tip toed towards the door. Her shaking hands reached for the doorknob, expected it to be locked, but it opened without making a single sound.
Yet, when she opened her door, a door next to her swung open. She jumped against the entryway of her room but when her son, of all people, walked out of the room to look at her, his eyes were wide.
"Mother!" He said, his face desperate. He grabbed onto her, hugging her. She didn't remember the last time Eris hugged her, the last time Eris hugged anyone. But he squeezed her tight. "I've been awake for hours but it was locked. It was locked until I heard your door open and then, click, my door opened for me." Despite her son's shock, she couldn't help but be curious why her door caused his door to unlock.
"Eris," she said flatly, pulling away. "Have you heard anyone outside the hallway?" He shook his head solemnly. Her lips pursed. His eyes danced around though, finally looking at their surroundings. She could tell that he was in awe of wherever they were.
"Summer Court?" Eris asked, his voice feeble. But as she looked at the pure-white marble walls, at the sunshine that beamed against the tile, with the only open windows being on the ceiling, her face tightened.
"No," she said, shaking her head, "The Summer Court looked nothing like this. This has too many walls, too little openings." And her son didn't pester any further. She had realized through the years that she was the only one who he didn't ever get cross with. He never doubted her answers nor bothered to test her.
"Then where are we?" He asked quietly. But Eva was already moving down the hall, taking note of everything she brushed past. Unlike the Autumn Court, there was no need to put torches on the walls. The palace was full of light from the large ceiling windows, showering her with sunshine from the blue sky. As Eris trailed behind her hesitantly, she took notice of the gold vases and artwork that were placed amongst the palace. Even though a lingering fear of where they were was starting to rise to the surface, it wasn't until she found two grand doors already open did she stop.
"Wow." The words came from her son behind her as they both looked at the large dining room. The pure gold table, which could fit at least twenty, was filled with piles of food. From pancakes to eggs to various meats, even Eva couldn't help but gape. On the opposite wall, windows reaching fifteen feet reflected back at them, showing the bright blue sky and overlooking a golden city. She slowly stepped in front of the table, her eyes hovering over the food.
"Most people greet their host before eating," A dry voice interrupted. Eva jumped towards the speaker, her eyes wide. And for just a moment, she forgot how to breathe.
"Helion?" Her son sneered loudly as Helion glided into the room. She, on the other hand, couldn't even speak.
His radiance was nearly blinding when she first eyed him. His dark skin, now looking like a brownish-gold, shimmered as he took a seat at the table. He ran his hands along his dark brown hair and she couldn't help but be marveled on how it turned honey-colored when the sun hit it just right. He sat down at the table as her and her son watched him silently. As they reveled in the awkwardness, he unraveled the napkin next to his sparkly-white plate and carefully unfolded it on his knee. He then persisted on serving himself eggs. She could feel her son revel in anger as they both watched the High Lord eat as if neither were even there.
"I am the High Lord, I demand you tell us why we-" And then Helion interrupted him with a loud snort. Her son stopped speaking suddenly, his eyes turning owl-like.
"Unfortunately, your distasteful father is still alive," Helion chortled, taking another bite of his eggs. "And trust me, boy, if you were a High Lord you would feel it in your veins." Her son was quiet at first, as if finally taking in that they were certainly not in a good situation. Eva suddenly straightened, her hands clamped in front of her formally.
"Helion," she said highly, "Despite your grand generosity, I think it's time for me and my son to travel home." And then his eyes landed on her, and truthfully, she wasn't ready for the pointed look in his eyes.
He analyzed her head to toe. From the top of her red hair, to the curve of her lips, to the pendant around her neck. She pulled the robe closer to her as he continued to examine her generously, his eyes lingering in places that were far from appropriate. At the meeting before the battle, though he had never spoken to her, she caught him looking at the same exact places, except at least at the time he had kept his gaze less noticeable. But this time, he didn't hide that he was looking her over, enjoying the sight of her, remembering what hid underneath the cloth.
"Why are you staring at her?" Eris snarled. Helion merely blinked at him.
"Why am I staring at her?" He retorted back, surprisingly icy. "Because I can. Because it's my court. Because no one can do a single thing about it. Certainly not you, at least." The words made Eris flush red. Quickly, she placed her hand on her son's wrist. She could feel his heart racing. And even then, something so protective, Helion still took notice. His eyes lingered at her thin fingers, something she couldn't quite decipher flash in his eyes. Maybe a memory.
"Did you infiltrate our castle?" Eris asked, showing his pointed teeth as he snarled. She noticed how his hands twitched, as if he was about to throw fire at the mighty High Lord but even if he wanted to, nothing happened. His face twisted slightly and whether or not Helion knew why, he didn't let it show.
"Of fucking course not," Helion replied with a chuckle, grabbing a piece of bacon. "Why would I waste my time with the Autumn Court of all places?" Eris's nose flared but a hint of relief flushed over Eva.
"Then why are we in your court?" Her son demanded. Slowly, Helion put the bacon down on his plate. He then took his time to wipe off his mouth, as if there had been crumbs that neither of them noticed. A cold smirk curled on Helion's face as Eris's eyes narrowed on him.
"Because ever so occasionally, not unlike the rest of you, I make stupid decisions." Eris's face filled with puzzlement and Eva's eyes merely narrowed on him. But then he lifted up his hand. She stiffened. Starting at his wrist and ending at the tips of his fingers, a beautiful ancient design twisted around his hand. Eris took sight of his mother's jolt and then back at Helion.
"What? What is it?" He demanded. "Mother, what is on his-"
"You made a bargain," she whispered, her eyes not leaving Helion's. Helion's face had softened. Eris's lips curled upward in confusion, looking between Helion and his mother quickly.
"A bargain?" Eris repeated, the word rolling off his tongue as if it was a foreign language. "What do you mean a bargain?" But Helion had drowned out the boy, his eyes now lingering on Eva.
"Why?" She demanded, her voice rising as she let go of her son and stepped closer to the table. Helion's smile had dropped. Her son, though on the defense against Helion, looked uneasy when she let go of his wrist. She expected him to retort with a sneer but instead a look of cold seriousness filled his face.
"You have no idea what he would've done to you," he whispered and she could have sworn his amber eyes darkened. Her hands turned into a tight balls.
"What happens to me is none of your-" But then Helion stood from his chair jerkily, letting it fall to the ground.
"He would've killed you, Eva! What was I supposed to do?" Helion bellowed suddenly, his face contorting into hot rage. For the first time, Eva had finally looked him over just like he had looked over her. There were bags hovering under his eyes, his eyes red as if he had not slept at all. Had he analyzed her to prove a point to her son, or was he just trying to find all the bruises that decorated her body? "Just leave you there? Just let you die?!" His voice broke at the end. She opened her mouth but then closed it. She had never seen him so angry, so desperate, so broken. Through the centuries of knowing him, she had never seen him react so uncontrollably. To be specific, in the last century, he barely even looked at her when they were in the same room.
"Don't yell at my-" But then Eris's voice choked. She turned to look at him, watching him struggle to speak. Her mouth went ajar, fuming as her eyes landed on Helion but he spoke before she could respond.
"Do you think it was fun for me to see you tied up like some whore they were about to sell?" He continued. "Do you think I wanted to be there? Do you think I wanted this?" He held up the tattooed arm again, waving it mockingly. She bit her lip, struggling to say the words that she knew were the most important.
"What was the cost?" She breathed, her voice quiet but just as terrifying. Helion swallowed.
"Let's just say, if I could send back your bastard son, I would," Helion grumbled. Her stomach churned.
"We're…stuck here? The both of us?" She said, choking slightly. He rolled his sparkly eyes.
"Don't try to sound so happy about it, Eva."
"You're a master of spells, Helion. Break the spell and be done with it!" Eva said, her voice rising. Eris flinched back at her tone. Helion's face didn't even flicker.
"One, these bonds are ancient. Even if we did know how to break them, it would still take a while to perform the spell. Two, why do you even want to go back?" Helion snapped back. She could only blink at him, her mouth ajar at the ridiculous comment.
"Because it's my home," she reminded him. "Because my husband-"
"The husband that beats you?" Helion interrupted cruelly. Her face burned. Beside her, her son stiffened.
"Helion-"
"The husband that rapes you and belittles you and brings whores into your home on the daily?" Helion continued with a dark laugh. Her teeth jittered. "The one who forced your youngest son to leave? Who didn't give a damn about you when those men dragged you away like an animal? Who would have sold you if it meant saving himself?" She felt like she was going to puke.
"How did you even know we were under siege?" She shot back. This time, it was Helion who looked like he had been slapped. He swallowed, silent now. Almost as if he had been caught in a problem he never fathomed.
"Or at least have the balls to tell me how long you've had spies there?" She jeered, her voice far more venomous than it's ever been. Helion scuffed at her, regaining his spiteful mask.
"Just like everybody else, I have spies in every co-"
"Right," she muttered, rolling her eyes. Helion pursed his lips.
"This is pointless," Helion declared finally. He walked away from the table, turning his back on the both of them. "I have better things to attend to." Eva's hands turned into tight balls.
"Yeah, like what? Tanning your legs?" Helion halted. He didn't turn around when he responded.
"No. Calanmai is tonight," Helion said, clipping each word slowly. "Don't worry, Drusilla will give you a tour so you don't get lost."
"And who might Drusilla be?" Eva asked flatly. He turned his head over his shoulder, a mocking smirk spread across his face.
"My daughter," he said silkily. Before Eva could hide the bewilderment that flashed across her face, he winnowed away.
~*~ discidium ~*~
Mmmm….I'm not sure if all of this makes sense. But I was rereading ACOMAF and I was so intrigued by Helion and the Lady of Autumn. And especially Eris, who seemed to have a backstory that would never be told. SO, if you do like this, please comment. I'm not going to continue if theres no comments because I'll assume nobody wants to read it (and because it makes my day :] )