A/N: I bought ACoMaF last Friday and finished in one sitting. Then this furious plot bunny entered my head. I own nothing except Eirwen the special snowflake.
Chapter One
The place was much too hot. I stood upon a small hilltop, overlooking the vast expanse of Prythian's southernmost lands. The Spring Court. There was a time when the very mention of this court was enough to bring a hopeful smile on every Fae's face, when it alone stood fast against the Deceiver, the High Queen, Amarantha, for 50 years. After the Deceiver's death came the invasion of the King of Hybern and the war which raged on for another 50 years. The Cursed War, they had called it.
And it certainly was. I shifted under the gaze of the shining sun, muttering to myself that this place felt more like the Summer Court than the Spring Court, though I knew otherwise. I had visited there once, with my High Lord and his consort, and I part of his entourage. It was hot there too, even more so than here. Hot enough that the pale skin natural to my people had seemed to blister and redden the more days we spent there.
The Spring Court was hot, but not as sweltering as the Summer Court, and perhaps that was a small mercy. I snorted to myself as I debated which layer of clothing I should divest off before heading to the nearest village.
It had been 50 years after the Curse War; 50 years after the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court unleashed their combined powers and armies to defend the lands and courts of which they were often shunned. I had not personally met either, though I heard stories even during the war, even when the curse was till upon the lands. Like others, however, I had my opinions about them. Opinions that I knew if voiced, their vengeful wrath might set their sights upon the Winter Court next, as they had done to the Spring Court right before defending it from the King of Hybern's armies.
The Night Court had a reputation, as all courts had. My homeland's own reputation was from stellar, but it sounded quite innocent compared to the Night Court for all the benevolence and splendour the City of Velaris seemed to bring.
For it was common knowledge that the Lady of the Night Court, the Cursebreaker, and once betrothed to Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court, had taken it upon herself to raze the Spring Court to the ground, sparing only a few villages. Her power was spoken to rival that of all the High Lords and I myself couldn't imagine how one High Fae female, no matter how powerful could they are, destroy an entire manor and devastate such vast lands.
Until I saw the Spring Court for myself. Even after 50 years, the trees that once populated the vast forests of the Court were only just beginning to grow again. For the Immortal Fae, time was rarely an issue, but to see such destruction even after so long, was definitely not something one gets used to.
I stepped into the sleepy little village that had been marked almost inconspicuously in the map given to me by my sister's Steward.
"It would be best to see and interact with the locals first," Quillo had said, his pale hands tucking the map in that precise way of his within my own. He was the only one I trusted with my decision, and he alone seemed to understand my need to get away.
600 years of living in constant ice and snow, and in constant shadow to the twin with more power, I was ready to explore more of what Prythian was to offer, to finally see the world as peace had finally settled among the other courts, and to do my part to bring peace upon mine.
The memory of Quillo's steady dark eyes boring into mine as he helped me prepare for my travel was forever etched into my mind. He had looked desperate, and beseeching, two things that were out of character from the usual stoic Steward. However he knew, like I did, that we were running out of time.
Winter might be eternal in my Court, but the rest of Prythian might not take it so kindly when another curse hits the lands when the last one had been so cruel.
I took a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. I would be able to do this; I have walked almost a millennia in this world, I had seen much, and done much. It would be quite simple to walk up to the High Lord of the Spring Court's door, knock and demand he help me.
But that was simply High Fae arrogance. The Mother wouldn't simply give a problem like this to the Court I call home and give such a basic solution. Of course, it was her nature to give trials and expect her children to work hard.
"Cauldron, boil me," I muttered under my breath as I walk past the small cluster of buildings that make up the outermost village of the Spring Court. I had tried my best to dress the part of any Spring Court, forgoing the thick and heavy clothes of the Winter Court with the flowing travelling gowns of the Spring Court. Quillo had assured me that this was what they wore here, but then not many had left or lived in the Spring Court since the War, so perhaps he was mistaken.
Based on the furtive stares the few villages that caught sight of me, Quillo had been wrong about the clothes. Or perhaps despite it, I still stood out. After all, there was nothing I could do about my too pale skin. The alabaster sheen of my arms was easily visible against the skirts of the blue gown I wore. I was not skilled at all in glamor magic or magic in general so I had to rely on blending in rather than changing my appearance through magical means.
I weave through the streets and buildings, heading for the inn that I mentally memorized from the map. I tried not to shuffle too much or stay still long enough for the rest of the villagers to take a glimpse of the dark, very un-Spring Court color, of my hair and eyes. It was quite uncommon these days for the Fae to travel to this land. Despite the peace, despite the rebuilding of ties, the Spring Court was the only one of the seven that felt the most of the aftermath of the Cursed War, both for being the closest to the Wall that separated the mortals and our kind, and another for inviting the combined wrath or both the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court.
High Fae politics and arrogance, which was what it was. I shook away the dark thoughts that threatened to distract me from my goal. It would not do me service if I continue on this path hating the Spring Court and its High Lord. Not if the very survival of the Winter Court lay conveniently on his hands.
"Excuse me," I spoke towards the innkeeper, making my voice light and airy, easily forgettable. The Fae looked up from his chore, golden brown hair tucked neatly behind his ears as he dished out food and drink to his patrons. I dismissed the cursory glance at my clothes and skin. Instead, I mentally squared my shoulders and plunged on.
"The High Lord of the Spring Court…" I began only to be cut off in a voice that could easily belong to the Winter Court.
"There is no High Lord of the Spring Court." The innkeeper bit out, placing the tankard he was polishing against the bar, the thud echoing with finality. I had not expected such hostility early on in my travels, but I was used to this kind of talk. I was trained with it; I lived in it in all my life.
"Peace," I mumbled, adopting a voice and accent that could be placed in the friendlier Courts of the Fae Realms: the Dawn court, with their healers. "I meant to inquire about his lands, not the absent High Lord." Lies and more lies, but easy enough to say. My words were spoken soothingly, let the letters and sound of the chosen accent caress and ease the innkeeper. I felt a small smile tug the corner of my lips when it proved effective and the aggression disappeared faintly from his eyes.
"His lands…" He mused, still curious, but less cautious. "Healer, are you?"
A beat of a silence before I inclined my head from beneath my hood. It was the proper response as the innkeeper's shoulders relaxed and leaned towards me over the bar, friendlier than he had the moment he spied my clothes and skin.
"We get a lot of herbalists this way, more than the other courts." He said a matter-of-factly, brown eyes raking in my figure once more. I ignored him, and remained quiet, patiently waiting for him to continue. "Maybe because of what happened after…" The Cursed War, I knew that was what he meant, but I didn't urge him to speak it, and instead inclined my head once more, a gesture for him to continue.
"And we might not be as better off as the other Courts, but we're still civilized here. We still have laws."
What is he talking about? I schooled my features so as not to display the confusion I felt. As far as I knew, the Spring Court was lawless, held together in fear of the Night Court, and the leaders of each village, what few remaining there were. The rest of the lands had gone wild and untameable, I had heard. Apparently this was not the case.
"You'd best talk to the Emissary and his lady, if you wish to go to that wretched place." The innkeeper was saying, finally dropping the piece of information I had sought this place for. Inns were a wellspring of information, no matter what the Court it seemed.
Before I could ask he pressed a neatly folded envelope towards me, sealed not with the High Lord's seal, but of a different sigil. A fox crowned in flowers.
"The Lord Emissary usually opens court once a month and you're in luck that its today, Healer." The innkeeper said quite friendly now, pushing the envelope into my hands. I could only gawk at it, biting my tongue to keep from demanding what the hell it was supposed to be.
"Speak your intention when you open the envelope and you will be winnowed to his estate. The invite will return to me once you're done with it." A wink and he let me go.
Insufferable males. I snorted to myself but keeping up appearances as a friendly Dawn Court healer, I gave a deep nod of thanks before exiting the inn for some privacy. If this was some trap, some unfathomable Spring Court trap, then it was best I do it in the open air. I might not have powerful magic like my siblings, but at least I would go prepared.
I slipped behind the inn, hiding under the shadows and away from the hot sun that seemed determined to burn me despite the cloak. Shouldering the pack that I carried all the way from home to here, I eased out the slim delicate blade from its thigh sheath and addressed the envelope.
"I wish to meet the ruler of the Spring Court." Too late, I remembered I ought to have said Emissary.
The place was much too hot. The magic from the Emissary's seal had winnowed me not to his estate, but to the one I had been looking for: the High Lord of the Spring Court's estate.
I had seen paintings and pictures of this estate back during the war, back during the curse. It had always been full of color, lush and green and filled with flowers. 100 years after the Cursed War, it still was so, but it seemed the lands had decided to take it back. The hedges that made up the borders of the estate were overgrown, towering over me, thickets grown wild in abandon. The trees that served as it grounds had a haunted look on them, and despite having grown up surrounded by trees that were hardly green, the trees here were much more sinister. Like a monster barely holding on to its slumber, ready to strike any that sets foot unwittingly under its boughs.
It was not a welcoming sight, but to it I must go. Steeling my spine and sheathing my thigh blade, I looked up at the massive iron gates, the ivy from the hedges wrapped tight as if warding off some intruder or other. I stepped closer, studying it, wondering if I could scale up the gates to get to the other side. I wasn't much of a climber, but then I was pretty light and iron gates with ivy held nothing in comparison to a frozen cliff side.
Smirking at that memory, I tentatively placed one pale hand against the thick ivy leaves, wary of any leftover magic, only to be surprised by the sudden hum of released energy and the gates swinging noiselessly inward, inviting me in.
I hesitated only for a heartbeat before stepping through and into the gravel path that undoubtedly once felt the footsteps and hooves of horses and their masters. I let my eyes roam, drinking the sights of the array of colors before me. It seemed too much somehow, the overgrown hedges also present at the front courtyard, looking more angry bushes than hedges. The stone fountains that stood in the garden before the main manor house were cracked and not functioning, and the flowers had long since claimed every patch of soil it possibly could touch, Snowdrops, violets and daffodils, growing in wild abandon and the roses…
I stopped at the end of the gravel path and beheld the manor house were the High Lord of the Spring Court once lived. Perhaps a century ago, it would have been breath-taking in its cultured beauty. The roses that grew on trellises and vines that wrapped all over the house were all but gone, only a handful here and there and somewhat dull-colored and withered. I had always been fascinated with roses, since there were very few of the flowers that could grow in my home, so I stepped as close enough as I dared to the ivy-decorated wall and reached for the single pathetic bud that grew right above the banister of the outside stairs.
Only to have a roar echo ear-shatteringly through the air. It shook the grounds and the house and I only had a second's warning before a loud echoing boom came from the manor, as if a large object collided with hard wood. And then a humongous beast was hurtling out the door and towards me, fangs bared and green eyes wild with fevered rage.
I whirled around just in time, because the beast didn't even hesitate as it barrelled towards me, the size of a horse but with fangs and claws larger than any wolf's. The softly swaying flowers was the last thing I saw before my vision was blocked by golden fur and the wind literally knocked out of me by the beast protecting its territory by swiping hard at me.
I tightened the muscles of my stomach, trying not to panic as I was told I had a tendency to do and dropped the straps of the pack as I was carrying only to loosen the long swords I had stored within. In the few seconds I was knocked back from the gravel path and into the ground, I was up again, whirling to face the beast, swords up, hood and cloak destroyed by that attack.
I lowered my stance as the beast roared again as if confused as to where I had gone only to face me once more, as if catching my scent against the sweet flowers.
I knew this was probably not the best idea, fighting an overgrown wolf-feline thing. Not when it looked half-mad and determined to kill, but I had travelled far, and I was tired, hungry and hot. I hated feeling that last bit most of all.
So snarling back at the beast, I rolled my shoulders, letting the relaxing weight of my swords calm me, glad that the cloak was finally gone and my skin could at least be cooled by the gentle breeze. It was nothing like the winds of home, but it was better than sweltering under the sun.
"What are you waiting for?" I goaded the beast, which seemed to have hesitated at the sight before me. And I'm pretty sure I was a sight, what with my foreign looks and now half-tattered clothes thanks to his sharp claws. But I was impatient and I was itching for a fight.
"Have it your way," A flicker of a sneer before I launched myself at him swords in the air, the steel glinting against the glow of the too hot sun. I was answered by yet another roar and the great beast bounded forward to meet me and my swords.
It was strong, that much I can tell, as it easily caught the cross of my blades with one claw and swiping at me with another. I hissed as those strong claws made my already tattered dress into ribbons, the edges of the sharp claws piercing the skin of my calves.
A vulgar curse escaped my mouth as I landed roughly on the gravel path, my swords flashing. I had not come this far only to get stopped by this great chunk of wild beast. Whether or not it was protecting the once High Lord of Spring, I was determined to get through. To meet him. To get what I came for.
The beast had fallen with easy grace a little away from me, my blood staining its claws. It sniffed and tossed its great head; fangs dripping with frothy saliva, again hinting of the wildness it had become without its master to tame it. I heard of how the Spring Court was roamed by this big beast, of how it protected the lands and its borders. To see it survive the razing of the Night Court, it must be even more powerful.
I watched in a few beats of silence, watching it as it turned its shattered green eyes upon me once more, before watching the blood drip from my legs. A hunger flashed in his eyes, quite predatory, and almost chilled my bones.
But then I was used to the cold. Rolling my shoulders once more, I contemplated whether or not to talk to the beast, perhaps appeal to whatever link it had with its master. My bloodlust was slowly waning as the warnings of Quillo echoed in mind.
"You must be calm, Eirwen. No matter how much the land will provoke you so. Tame your wildness. Your sister's life depends on it." He had said. Like I was a child, like I had not spent years mastering myself while he went on to learn about the Stewardship. While I had learned to unleash my anger through my swords, my training, my frustration that I couldn't wield magic.
The metallic taste in my mouth was acrid and bitter, and I realized I had ground my teeth against my tongue to tame myself.
Glaring at the beast, which seemed to have found my non-movement more interesting now, I sheathed one sword at the sword belt strapped to my side. "I'm looking for somebody." I said now, my voice even as I tried to cool my temper.
"Perhaps you know him?" I cocked my head to one side as the beast looked at me inquiringly. "His name is Tamlin…"
That was the only word I got edgewise when in a flash as I was high against the brick wall of the manor, one of my swords clattering to the ground as the beast pinned my torso and neck with one of its great big paws.
"Who the hell are you?" It growled, the words sinister and feral as it stood on its hind legs, trapping me. All I could see at that moment was fur and its green eyes, and I felt more than saw the claws dig deep into my shoulders. I gave a cry out against the surprising pain but held his gaze as steadily as I could.
"I'm looking for Tamlin…" I said yet again only to get slammed against the brick, bruising my back. I felt my own blood trickle coldly down my back as his claws dug a little deeper. But still, it didn't kill me. The beast was poised over me, snarling and angry, breath puffing in rough rasps, hot against my skin. Hot again.
Anger shot through my veins once more and I mustered just enough strength to grab my sheathed sword and swipe it upwards, its sharp blade piercing through fur and flesh. The beast dropped me in an angry howl, its blood splattering all over me as I fell in an ungraceful heap before the side stairs to the manor.
"You miserable piece of filth!" It roared, cradling its bloody arm and set bloodshot eyes towards me. If it was hesitating to kill me then, it certainly wasn't now and I braced myself to fight yet again.
Only I didn't have to. I lay gasping, leaning heavily on one sword, with my neck and shoulders bloody as I blinked at yet another surprise before me.
A High Fae stood before me, dressed in a fine tunic of muted silver, breeches a dark red. I couldn't see his face from where I lay sprawled on the ground, but his hair was a dark russet, a shade lighter than that of his breeches, tied back and tucked behind his delicately pointed ears. Even if he was dressed finely, there was no denying that he could wield the large jewel-crusted sword strapped on his back. That as well as the knives strapped to his thighs.
It seemed the red-haired Fae had winnowed right between the beast and myself and pushed the beast back before it could deliver the final blow. I was much too out of breath to even muster a whisper of thanks. Too much energy used fighting before I properly deduced the situation. My siblings would sneer.
At that thought, I pushed myself up as straight as I could, using my sword as a crutch. Wiping the blood that stained my lips, I looked at the High Fae. For his part he merely frowned at the beast before turning to me, throwing his profile into sharp relief against the afternoon sun.
I blinked in surprise before schooling my features into an impassive mien as I beheld his face. All High Fae were unnaturally beautiful unless marred by battle, and this one seemed to have crossed the sharp and deadly end of both magic and blade centuries ago. A long jagged scar extended across his face, and where once there were two russet eyes, there was now only one, the other replaced by a golden metal eye that narrowed in study of me. He opened his mouth as if to say something only to be interrupted by a low growl from the beast.
The High Fae sighed as if pained and turned towards the beast. "Please Tamlin, enough of this. This would be the fifth you would have seriously injured just by stepping foot here. This was just a coincidence, was it not, little lass?" He turned to me, beseechingly, the fierce visage contrasting quite heavily against the tone he used.
I would normally have pitied such a tone, would have folded easily when it came to a handsome man. Yes, this High Fae was handsome for all that there was an ugly scar on his face. But I was not home, and I was too tired and hot to be swayed.
"I came here on purpose." I said through gritted teeth, shaking my limp arms as if determined to get some feeling in them. "I'm here to see Lord Tamlin."
The High Fae's eyes, both natural and artificial widened a fraction, before stepping aside so I could see the beast once more. "And you found him." He deadpanned, gesturing at the now placated beast licking the great slash I inflicted on his arm. For a heartbeat I stared at the Fae and the beast uncomprehendingly, before feeling my cheeks heat up in embarrassment and realization.
In my haste and distress, it seemed I had forgotten all my lessons about the Courts. The High Lord of the Spring Court could shapeshift. And the beast that once roamed the courts lands was none other than its lord, protecting and shielding the borders, until the razing.
"I…" I opened my mouth to apologize, realizing I might have successfully breached some Court protocol that would undoubtedly set the remaining armies of the Spring Court to invade my home. I was cut off however as the beast gave one puff of a breath, as if he also realized he had overreacted and vanished back into the house as quickly as it had come.
"Of all the bottomless Cauldron shitstorm things to do…" The High Fae muttered beside me, sighing heavily through its nose. This one seemed to be taking care of the once High Lord. I was unfamiliar of the details, but I recalled that once the Night Court had finished razing the manor and most of the Spring Court lands, its master had disappeared.
In a gesture of peace, 10 years after the razing, the Lady Feyre had restored the manor and its lands after exacting an oath to never try to interfere with her and her mate's lives ever again. It seemed the once High Lord had made good of his promise because he had stayed in the resurrected manor and retreated there. Nobody had seen or heard from him in nigh half-century. Until now that is.
If that had been Tamlin, then this High Fae might be his Emissary and friend, I wondered to myself before sketching the appropriate bow. "Apologies for intruding my lord." Court taught manners surfaced and I winced to myself at how ridiculous it must have looked to him.
"Please, none of that." He spoke, waving his battle-worn hand in a placating gesture. He looked appropriately chagrined at catching his old master about to kill her, even if she was technically intruding. "Lucien, Emissary of the Spring Court." He said after making a bow of his own. He surveyed the damage his beast of a High Lord had done on me. "I would inquire as how exactly did you get here, but it's best we have this conversation in my estate, rather than here." He cast a tentative glance up at the now silent manor, as if quietly saying. Before he comes back.
But I was not so easily swayed. I came here to find Tamlin, and now that I found him, despite being a half-wild beast, I was going to make do with my promise to save my sister and my court. "But I…"
"You will be able to talk to him, after you answer some questions of my own, lady." This time, Lucien's tone was firm and brooked no argument. He was acting lord on behalf of Tamlin, and my memory served me that it would be good not to tease the law upon a different court.
I bowed my head in a gesture of acceptance before reaching for my swords. But Lucien got to them first. "Allow me." He said gallantly, though I knew those were both to disarm me and keep me complacent.
"My estate is not far, and I owe you perhaps a change of clothes at least, and a healer at the most." He glanced at the blood on my shoulders. "My mate will be able to help with that." A slight softening in his mouth at the mention of his partner and I staunched the twinge of annoyance and jealousy. I had been told since I was a youngling that there might not be a mate for me. With my temper, and general lack of endearing qualities, it would be best if I at least strive not to dishonour my brother and sister and their marriage and mating prospects.
Still, none of that was to be blamed on the Spring Court Emissary. It was not his fault he was able to find his mate and happiness even after the Cursed War. Telling myself that had hardly assuaged the jealousy, so I kept silent as Lucien stepped forward to winnow us away from Tamlin's estate.
We appeared several seconds later in another estate, albeit smaller but more well-cared for than that of the High Lord's manor.
I sniffed at the scent of the flowers in the air, less cloying and overbearing than that of the wildflowers in the abandoned estate. Hovering behind Lucien who led the way through the cobbled path of his estate, my eyes barely registered the vast gardens with little alcoves when I sensed the Emissary studying me, as if trying to discern the look on my face.
Schooling my features once more, I gestured casually at the flowers, my blood-soaked fingers flicking droplets here and there. Lucien didn't seem to notice and merely stared at me.
"Mating present?" I asked lightly, remembering some of the customs of this flower-ridden Court.
He merely nodded before gesturing inside. "My mate, Elain is inside. She might not like me saying this, but please try your best not to upset her. She is in a delicate state…"
"I will not break Lucien, dear." A clear voice spoke behind him, trilling like a nightingale's voice and I couldn't help but peek over the Emissary's shoulder to see who have spoken. She was taller than me, and possibly one of the most beautiful High Fae I have ever seen. Honey gold hair tumbled past her shoulders in fat, gorgeous curls down her back, her golden skin seeming to glow as she moved down the steps to greet her mate. She was dressed in a dawn-pink gown of the most delicate chiffon, held together at the shoulders by small topazes. The flowing dress didn't deny however, that she was very much pregnant.
I could help but gape. High Fae younglings were very rare, even so after the Cursed War, and here she was, the mate of a High Fae well on her way to deliver new life on to Prythian. A shred of hope that the war and curse hadn't completely obliterated any sense of future. Especially here, where the future seemed to have been suspended after the Cursed War. The sight of her was enough for me to shut my mouth and drop my head in respect to the life she was bringing.
"Elain," Lucien spoke, his tone reverent with just a hint of exasperation. "I asked you to stay comfortable in the solar, but you're as stubborn as a mule…"
"And I told you, whenever you come home, I will always greet you. No matter what's happening." She interrupted him with a bright smile that could dazzle anybody. I myself have never seen Lumi smile like such to her own husband, and Kallias was the High Lord.
"Is Tamlin all right?" Elian asked now as Lucien greeted her at the bottom of the steps,carefully wrapping his arms around her shoulders and giving her rosebud lips a gentle kiss.
"Fine," Lucien replied after another sigh through his nose. "I just have to sort him out. " He gestured behind me, and I tried not to squirm at the curious look the Emissary's mate was giving me. "Would you mind helping me…?"
"Of course darling," Elain gave another smile and Lucien seemed to melt (I resisted rolling my eyes) before placing another kiss on her pink cheek and stepping away.
"I will be back." He said to me, his voice now back to its distant politeness, metal eye whirring over me once more as if memorizing every part of my scent and body. As if he half expected me to run. I wouldn't, I was so close.
So I merely nodded my face still even as Elain floated towards me, not caring if her hands will be stained by touching my bloodied arms and shoulders and steered me into her manor house.
"Welcome to the House of Flora." She spoke in that lilting voice, sweeping me inside like a welcome guest.