Nesta Is High Lady Of Autumn - Tumblr Posts

A ficlet inspired by @too-manybooks's post about Nesta making Eris his High Lady and some of his power transferring to her, because my main fic is a slog right now and I couldn't resist the prompt.

The fire in my veins (Neris)

[4584 words]

This is set a decade or so into the future, because while we can make people with no political experience and little knowledge of the places or people they will rule over into High Ladies instantly just 'cause we we have a boner for them, it probably doesn't serve them or their courts to do so. I said what I said. Also, the stupid ass deathbaby subplot doesn't exist and Nesta got to keep her powers. TL:DR, pure wish fulfilment.

Eris watched fondly from the back of the room as his lady, his Queen, held the rapt attention of the roomful of adolescent girls.

“Now, I understand that all of this is very new to you,” she was saying. “You’re used to deferring to the males in your life. That’s how it’s always been. But I’m here to tell you that you matter. What you want matters. That’s why the High Lord-” here she paused to glance over at Eris, flashing him an almost imperceptible smile, “-and I have made these changes to the law.”

Eris hadn’t even realised she’d seen them come in. But of course she had. His wife was always aware of everything.

“So marriage, if it occurs at all, will be your choice,” she went on. “No marriage licences will be issued without the express consent of the couple, both parties. Which must be given in person at the local registry office. If anybody attempts to coerce consent from you, there are systems in place to deal with that and help available to you, both practical and financial support.” She looked around the room, making eye contact with each of the girls in turn to emphasize her point. “No female of the Autumn Court will ever again be subjugated by a male. Not her father, not her husband. Not even her mate. Not while I live and breathe,” she vowed.

“Mama is so smart,” Cordelia breathed beside him. “Everyone listens to her.”

Eris smiled down at his daughter, squeezed her hand. She was, and they did. And their little girl was turning out to be just like her.

“Of course, if you do wish to marry of your own free will, that will always be supported,” Nesta continued. “Whether the person you wish to wed is a male or a female.” There was a little gasp and a few titters here, which drew an easy smile from Nesta before she went on. “But I would encourage you to ensure you experience a little of the world and all it has to offer before you consider such a commitment. Don’t neglect your education, especially. The Lady Vanserra Academy is open to you all. Regardless of your previous standard of education, there is a place for you there.”

The Academy was a passion project between Nesta and his mother – and named for the latter, although the title of Lady was now technically held by Nesta. She was Lady Archeron, though – when they had married, she had been firm about retaining that link to her human heritage. As long as she agreed to be his wife, Eris couldn’t have cared less what name she went by.

“The final thing I want to discuss today is violence in the home,” Nesta said, any trace of levity gone from her expression. “This is a subject close to my heart, and the High Lord’s as well.” Nesta again shot him a fleeting glance.

“What occurs in the home happens behind closed doors. It is especially insidious for that reason. And this kind of violence doesn’t always look obvious and doesn’t always leave bruises.” Silver flashed in her eyes and she took a breath. “It can come in the form of being forced into situations you don’t want to be a part of. It can look like choices being taken away from you. It can be sexual violence. It can be constant belittling, angry and hurtful words. It can look like neglect. Like financial control and dependence. It can come in many, many forms. And none of them are acceptable.”

“Any person found to be a perpetrator of violence in the home will be suitably dealt with, with possible punishments including imprisonment and banishment from the Autumn Court for the most serious offenses,” Nesta continued. “But it’s less about punishing the offenders than protecting the victims. So if you find yourself a victim of violence in the home at any stage, I want you to know two things – first of all, it’s not your fault.” She looked around at the girls. “It is never, ever your fault. There is nothing you could do that justifies that type of behavior. Secondly, in this court there will always be help available. I’d like to invite my friend, Gwyneth Berdara, to tell you more about that.”

Gwyn had been sitting among the audience, but now she rose to her feet and came to join Nesta at the front of the room. She saw Eris and Cordelia at the back and gave them a little wave. She was wearing Autumn-style attire, brown suede pants and a plain bronze-coloured tunic, rather than her priestess robes. But her pale blue invoking stone rested at her forehead, reflecting the light.

“Hello, everyone,” she said, her warm voice betraying no nerves at addressing such a large group. Gwyn had come a long way. “I’d like to thank Lady Nesta for inviting me here today. For those who don’t know who I am-”

A few giggles and a little murmur went around the room at this, and Eris grinned. After the role Gwyneth Berdara, priestess and Valkyrie, had played in the battle against Koschei, there was nobody in all of Prythian who didn’t know who she was. And there was probably not one young female in this room who wouldn’t consider her an idol, and rightly so.

Gwyn smiled and ducked her head for a second. “For those who don’t know who I am,” she repeated, “I am the Director of The Sanctuary, a place of safety for females and children escaping violence. Our centre provides a place for people to stay, receive support and treatment – counselling, financial help, educational support, employment training – anything you need, really, to get you to a point where you feel confident enough to face the world again.”

Gwyn looked out at the sea of faces. “I was a victim of violence myself once,” she said calmly. “I understand how it rips your foundations out from under you, how it destroys your confidence. I was fortunate to be given a safe place to heal from that trauma, and our mission at The Sanctuary is to do the same for every female and youngling that needs it. I work with a team of priestesses who receive special training to understand the needs of victims.” She paused for a moment. “I hope none of you ever have need of our services. But if you do, if any of your friends or loved ones do, we’re there.”

Gwyn resumed her seat and Nesta spoke once again. “That’s everything we wanted to discuss today. I just want you all to know that each and every one of you is vital to the future of the Autumn Court. I hope you will all value yourselves the way the High Lord and I do. If any of you are interested in finding out more about the Academy, Lady Vanserra is available in the parlour and would be happy to speak with you. Thank you for coming today.”

The girls applauded politely before slowly making their way out of the room, chattering to one another and occasionally shooting shy glances in his direction or cooing at Cordelia as they passed. Eventually only the four of them were left. Eris quickly helped Nesta and Gwyn to stack the chairs at one end of the room while Cordelia sat on the floor, playing with a toy Elain and Lucien had sent her from Day. It was a little crystal mounted on a wand that made beams of rainbow light dance as she wielded it. Cordelia was enchanted by it.

“Whatcha got there, Cordi-lou?” Gwyn asked, kneeling down beside her when they had finished tidying the room.

“It’s a magic stick,” Cordelia explained. “It makes rainbows.”

“Oh, so pretty!” Gwyn enthused. “Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to come to the evening service with me and hear the singing?”

“Yesssss!” Cordelia said happily. She was too young to understand the services, but she loved the music as much as Nesta did. “Can I bring my rainbow stick?”

“I don’t see why not,” Gwyn agreed. “As long as you don’t wave it around during the service.”

“I won’t,” Cordelia promised. “Is Uncle Az coming?” She adored Gwyn’s mate, and the feeling was mutual.

“No sweetie, he’s in Velaris just now,” Gwyn said. “But you know what that means? I’m kind of lonely at our place. Do you think you could come for a sleepover after the service and keep me company?”

Cordelia looked up at Eris and Nesta with shining eyes. “Can I?”

Nesta shot Eris a sideways glance. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Any objections?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“No, you go ahead and have fun,” Eris said, kissing Cordelia on the head. “You make sure you listen to what Auntie Gwyn says, alright?”

“I will!” Cordelia placed her little hand in Gwyn’s and began dragging her toward the door of the assembly room.

Nesta waited until they were out the door before she turned to Eris, narrowing her eyes. “Alright, what are you up to?”

“Me?” he said innocently.

“I know you don’t honestly believe I fell for that impromptu invitation,” Nesta said, rolling her eyes. “I adore Gwyn, but she is horrible at lying. What have you two cooked up?”

Eris should have known better than to think he could get anything past his wife. “Fine,” he said, smirking. “There’s something I want to talk to you about, and it will be easier without our little whirlwind interrupting every few seconds. So I asked Gwyn to take her for the night so we can have a quiet dinner together. And an evening without a child in our bed.” Cordelia generally went to sleep in her own room, but made her way to theirs at some point during the night. They inevitably woke with her wedged between them. Eris didn’t mind it – he adored waking up with his two favorite girls, in fact. But never knowing when their daughter was likely to make an appearance did tend to put a bit of a damper on any nocturnal activities other than sleeping.

Nesta grinned as though reading his mind. “Alright, I’m listening.”

*****

“Where is everyone?” Nesta asked as they sat down to dinner. Ever since Beron had been gone, they had all preferred to use this small, family dining room in lieu of the cavernous formal banquet hall. But most evenings the table still accommodated at least six. Seeing it set for only two was incongruous.

“Well, Mother has gone to Day for the rest of the week…” Eris said.

“Also your doing, no doubt.”

“Not at all,” he argued. “If Mother wants to spend time with Lucien – and Helion – who am I to deny her?”

“The picture of innocence,” Nesta said dubiously, spooning vegetables onto her plate. “Your brothers?”

“The Reach, the training camps and the Summer Court, respectively.”

“Out with it, then. What is it we have to discuss that necessitated clearing everyone out of the house?”

“I think it’s time you became High Lady of this court,” Eris said, without preamble.

Nesta put down her fork. “What? No.”

“No? Why not?” Of all the ways Eris had envisaged this conversation possibly going, an immediate, flat-out refusal was not something he’d considered.

Nesta said nothing for a few moments, thinking. “I don’t know. I’m just… it doesn’t sound like me. I like being the Lady of this court, but I don’t need to be High Lady.”

Eris regarded his wife. Nesta cared for neither titles nor ceremony. Her mother had tried to mold her into a grasping social climber, but leaving the Night Court and her sisters behind had been her final rejection of that past. Nesta would have been content with a quiet existence. But she’d been made for greatness and it kept finding her.

“You’ve just as much right to the title as Feyre,” Eris said quietly. “If not more.”

“Is that what this is about, their visit? Rhysand has a High Lady, so you think you should have one too?”

“No!” Eris said, genuinely shocked. “You’re worth a thousand of them no matter what your title, or without any title at all.”

Feyre and Rhysand were to make their first official visit to Autumn in a little under two months – and they would bring their General with them, no doubt. Nesta had left any anger she felt towards any of them behind long ago, but Eris wasn’t sure he could ever completely forgive them for all the pain that they’d caused his wife. After she’d come to Autumn, it had taken her months to even discuss some of it with him. Much longer still for her to understand she wasn’t to blame for it. He’d tolerate Rhys and Feyre’s presence in this court for the sake of diplomacy, but posturing for their benefit was of no interest to him. He and Nesta had nothing to prove.

“So if I don’t need the title, why are you so eager to give me it?” Nesta asked, jolting him back into the moment.

“It’s not about me giving you anything,” Eris said. “You’ve earned the right to be High Lady. The effort you’ve put into making the Autumn a better place… I always had dreams of what this court could be Nesta, but without you, I couldn’t have achieved a fraction of what we’ve done since Beron’s demise. Our people respect me, but they adore you.”

“And I them,” Nesta said simply. “I don’t need to be their High Lady for that.”

Eris smiled. “Maybe not, but you know they’d love it. The Mother knows, they deserve something to celebrate.” The years after Koschei had been tough. There was not one family in Autumn – in all of Prythian – that had not suffered. It hadn’t been an ideal time to take over the reins as High Lord, but he and Nesta had built back their court, and won the loyalty of their people in the process. The birth of Cordelia four years ago had cemented Autumn’s affection for their little family.

“And there’s something you ought not to forget,” he went on, suddenly inspired. “There’s a little girl who thinks the world of you, and who might get to be High Lady of Autumn herself someday. Don’t you think that would be easier if she’d had a role model go before her?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Bringing Cordi into this is absolute chicanery, Eris Vanserra! I’d have thought such things were beneath you,” she sniffed.

But Eris had seen the doubt creeping into her expression, and grinned. “Nothing is beneath me if it will help convince you to take your rightful place as High Lady of Autumn. My equal. My superior, if we’re being honest,” he said earnestly.

“Don’t over-egg the pudding,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Alright, fine. If it will make you shut up, I’ll do it. But I’m not changing anything apart from the title. I’m still going to be working with your mother on The Academy, and with Gwyn on The Sanctuary. And I’m still going to be-”

“Raining down terror on our nobility and demanding progress that nobody else is ready for? My dearest love, I would expect nothing less. I’m counting on it.”

*****

Nesta smoothed her skirts for the third time, her fingers worrying at the moss green shot silk. Eris glanced sideways at her.

“If I didn’t know better, Nesta Archeron, I’d say that you were nervous.”

She glared at him. “I am nervous! I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”

He smiled at his wife, who had endured and triumphed over more than most could even imagine.

“We’ll do something official in the coming weeks. But this evening is private. It will just be you, me and the priestesses. So there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

Nesta looked over at him. “Really? Just us?”

“Just us,” Eris confirmed. “I thought you might like it better that way. But we will have a little celebration afterward, if that’s okay. Just family. Emerie’s coming from Illyria, and Lucien, Elain and Helion from Day.”

She gave him a grateful look. “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you. I’m glad it’s not going to be some pompous fae spectacle.”

Eris hid another smile. He wondered if Nesta would ever stop speaking of fae as though she wasn’t one of them. Far from being offended, he found it quite charming. It was fascinating to see fae behavior and customs from her perspective. It often made him look at things he’d accepted unquestioningly in a new light.

Gwyn came out to antechamber, arrayed in her robes. She sat down beside Nesta. “Jako is ready for you now,” she said quietly. “Do you have any questions before we go in?”

“Is it too late to call it off?” Nesta muttered.

Gwyn gave her friend an indulgent smile. “I’m so happy you’re doing this, you know. It’s such a huge step for the women of Autumn. An important step. Come.” Brooking none of Nesta’s objections, she took her by the hand and led her into the inner sanctum.

Standing with Nesta, facing one another before the High Priestess, couldn’t fail to put Eris in mind of their wedding. The whole thing had felt surreal. When Nesta had agreed to come to Autumn, she’d made it clear that it was on a trial basis only and she was neither accepting Eris’s proposal nor making any promises of her own. She’d been surprised when he readily agreed to give her sanctuary despite these stipulations.

He’d soon realised why. She was less than one tenth his age, and yet Nesta’s trust had been betrayed enough to last several fae lifetimes. So he’d adjusted his expectations. If there was one thing that Eris understood, it was patience. It was when they both knew that the battle with Koschei was imminent that she’d come to him.

“Do you still want to marry me?” she’d asked, in her disarming, direct way.

“Yes,” he’d replied without hesitation.

“Will you do it without any fae nonsense?”

“Yes.” He’d do the ceremony naked and standing on one leg if that’s what she wanted.

“Then I’ll do it.”

Eris’s mouth had gone dry. “You’re saying yes? Why now?”

She’d shrugged. “Because of all you’ve done for me. Because who knows if we’ll even be alive in a week’s time. But mostly because I love you.”

“Why does this feel so much like a wedding?” Nesta was saying under her breath, reading his mind as always.

The High Priestess overhead despite her low tone, and chuckled. “Well, it is, in a way. Except instead of committing yourself to a person, you’re committing yourself to a whole court.”

“No pressure, then,” Nesta joked, but she looked a little wan.

“No, no pressure,” Jako replied. “If there is love in your heart for this court and its people, you will be a loyal and just High Lady.” She smiled down at Nesta. “Are you ready?”

Nesta swallowed, then nodded.

Despite the fact that these priestesses had never had cause to perform it before, the ritual was beautifully done. It began with a hymn to the Mother in an ancient fae tongue. “It asks her to bless you with her gifts,” Eris whispered to Nesta. “Unnecessary, really, as you’re already favoured by the Mother. But the power of High Lords is seen as being bestowed by The Cauldron, so when anointing a High Lady, the Mother’s blessing is sought. It provides a kind of balance, I suppose.”

“You understand this?” Nesta asked.

“The gist of it, not word for word. I’ve done some study of ancient languages.”

“Of course you have,” she said with a half smile.

The hymn was lovely. Performed with just voices, the majority of the priestesses carried a low chant – sung at a pitch that had to be deeper than their natural registers. This was accompanied by a high, sweet contrasting melody, performed by a handful of the most gifted vocalists among the priestesses, Gwyn included. She had explained to Eris and Nesta, when she talked them through the ritual, that the two songs, blended yet distinct, were supposed to represent the light of The Mother, weaving through the darkness as she created their world and everything in it.

When the hymn concluded, there was stillness for a few long minutes as the priestesses silently prayed. But the very stone of the chapel still seemed to vibrate with sound and energy.

The period of silent prayer came to an end. All the priestesses except for Gwyn and Jako slowly filed out, leaving just the four of them to complete the most sacred parts of the ritual.

The High Priestess stepped forward to read from a leather-bound tome, still in the same old language. Something about sacred duty and binding and union. Eris couldn’t remember what Gwyn had said about this part. But it didn’t seem to require anything of them other than to stand there and listen.

When the reading came to an end, Jako motioned them both forward and had them stand at either side of a large stone set into the floor of the chapel. It glowed pale blue, similar to the invoking stones the priestesses wore over their hoods. It sat at the center point of a mandala carved directly into the stone floor of the chapel.

Eris sucked in a few deep breaths. This was the only part of the ritual he didn’t feel entirely comfortable with. He looked into Nesta’s eyes – clear and unafraid, but limned with the silvery gleam that was always there when she was experiencing strong emotion. Gwyn stepped forward, Eris’s dagger in held out in both hands, palms up.

“That’s the knife you chose?”

“It could hardly be any other.”

The dagger was plain and unadorned, but it sang with power. Power ripped from the Cauldron itself, and imbued in the knife by its maker. Nesta Archeron. The dagger that had dispatched his father and made him High Lord. The dagger that had proved vital to Koschei’s defeat.

A little piece of the power of the Cauldron, in a ritual dedicated to the Mother.

Balance.

Eris nodded to Nesta. She exhaled slowly. Then she took the dagger from Gwyn.

Eris offered her his right palm. She hesitated for a moment, then drew the blade along it. The corners of her mouth tightened as blood welled from the wound.

She passed the knife to him, then held out her own hand. Eris held the blade to her palm, but could not make himself slice into her flesh.

“Hurry up and do it,” Nesta begged.

He closed his eyes, and pressed down on the knife. Nesta didn’t make a sound, but when he opened his eyes, blood pooled in her palm as well. They gripped their right hands together tightly. Jako nodded at Eris. He cleared his throat.

“With my heart’s blood as my vow, I make you High Lady. From this day, we rule as one. Two halves of a whole, united in power.”

Jako inclined her head toward Nesta.

“With my heart’s blood as my vow, I become High Lady. From this day, we rule as one. Two halves of a whole, united in power.”

Eris’s eyes met Nesta’s, still dancing with silver light. He loosened his grip on her hand, and they allowed their mingled blood to drip and anoint the sacred stone.

He looked toward Jako. As Gwyn had explained it, that completed the ritual. It was done. Nesta was his High Lady. He smiled at her.

But instead of smiling back, she gasped in shock. “Nesta? What’s the-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the words were drowned out by a roaring in his head. He felt lightning racing in his veins, and something cool and heavy swirl in his belly. It was exhilaration and pain, ecstasy and torment. It felt similar to when the High Lord powers had settled in him, but more alien. More intense and disorienting. He grabbed for Nesta and held her to him as the strange sensations began to subside.

“Nesta! Are you okay? Talk to me.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s just I- I didn’t know that was going to happen.” She rounded on Gwyn. “You didn’t tell me about that part!”

Gwyn blinked. “What part?”

“That I’d get some of Eris’s powers! That would have been useful information to have before I agreed to this.”

Gwyn looked at her blankly. “What? I didn’t know. You have his powers? How do you know?”

“Because I can feel it,” Nesta said, frowning. “I can feel it. The flame – it’s different to mine. It’s… warm.” She held her injured right hand out in front of her, and for a second, golden flame danced over her palm.

She looked up at Eris. “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t want to take your powers!” Nesta looked upset, almost… guilty?

“I didn’t know either,” he said. “Powers being transferred… I’ve only ever heard of that happening to mates.” He turned toward Jako. “What is this?”

The High Priestess looked thoughtful. “I don’t know anything about it, but this ritual hasn’t been performed in Autumn in living memory,” she said. “It’s possible that some of the detail has been lost to history.”

“Well, you taught her to master her powers,” Gwyn said chirpily, trying to dispel some of the tension. “Now you’ll just have to teach her to master yours as well. Here, take your knife back.” She held the dagger out to Eris, but Jako stayed her hand.

“But this is a Made object!” she said, looking at it closely for the first time.

“Yes,” Eris said. “The occasion seemed to demand something special.”

“May I?” Jako said, indicating the dagger.

“Of course.”

She held it up, examining it. “You know… this could be answer here,” she mused. “Or part of it, at least.”

“What do you mean?” Nesta asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Well, as the High Lord said – transference of powers is usually seen in association with a mating bond – that is, a bond between equals, ordained by the Cauldron,” the High Priestess said, turning the knife over in her hand. “But during the ritual, you effectively made yourselves equals – two halves of a whole, united in power – and sealed the pact with an object imbued with the power of the cauldron.”

Eris frowned. “Are you saying… that we’ve somehow created our own mating bond?”

“Not a mating bond exactly, but a powerful bond of some sort,” Jako said. “The funny thing is though, I’d have expected it to go both ways.”

“Both ways? How do you mean?”

“Well, for something of the High Lady to pass to you as well.”

Eris and Nesta exchanged glances. She stepped forward, staring intently at him. As he met her silvery gaze, Eris felt something in him shift in response.

Nesta turned to the High Priestess. “Can I have that knife for a moment?” Jako passed it to her silently.

She held the flat of the blade up to Eris’s face. “Look. Your eyes.”

He peered into the reflective surface. His eyes looked… normal? The blade was shiny, but not as clear as a looking glass. But his own amber eyes looked back at him, completely familiar. Except for just around the pupil, where there was a little ring of…

Silver.

A ficlet inspired by @too-manybooks's post about Nesta making Eris his High Lady and some of his power transferring to her, because my main fic is a slog right now and I couldn't resist the prompt.

The fire in my veins (Neris)

[4584 words]

This is set a decade or so into the future, because while we can make people with no political experience and little knowledge of the places or people they will rule over into High Ladies instantly just 'cause we we have a boner for them, it probably doesn't serve them or their courts to do so. I said what I said. Also, the stupid ass deathbaby subplot doesn't exist and Nesta got to keep her powers. TL:DR, pure wish fulfilment.

Eris watched fondly from the back of the room as his lady, his Queen, held the rapt attention of the roomful of adolescent girls.

“Now, I understand that all of this is very new to you,” she was saying. “You’re used to deferring to the males in your life. That’s how it’s always been. But I’m here to tell you that you matter. What you want matters. That’s why the High Lord-” here she paused to glance over at Eris, flashing him an almost imperceptible smile, “-and I have made these changes to the law.”

Eris hadn’t even realised she’d seen them come in. But of course she had. His wife was always aware of everything.

“So marriage, if it occurs at all, will be your choice,” she went on. “No marriage licences will be issued without the express consent of the couple, both parties. Which must be given in person at the local registry office. If anybody attempts to coerce consent from you, there are systems in place to deal with that and help available to you, both practical and financial support.” She looked around the room, making eye contact with each of the girls in turn to emphasize her point. “No female of the Autumn Court will ever again be subjugated by a male. Not her father, not her husband. Not even her mate. Not while I live and breathe,” she vowed.

“Mama is so smart,” Cordelia breathed beside him. “Everyone listens to her.”

Eris smiled down at his daughter, squeezed her hand. She was, and they did. And their little girl was turning out to be just like her.

“Of course, if you do wish to marry of your own free will, that will always be supported,” Nesta continued. “Whether the person you wish to wed is a male or a female.” There was a little gasp and a few titters here, which drew an easy smile from Nesta before she went on. “But I would encourage you to ensure you experience a little of the world and all it has to offer before you consider such a commitment. Don’t neglect your education, especially. The Lady Vanserra Academy is open to you all. Regardless of your previous standard of education, there is a place for you there.”

The Academy was a passion project between Nesta and his mother – and named for the latter, although the title of Lady was now technically held by Nesta. She was Lady Archeron, though – when they had married, she had been firm about retaining that link to her human heritage. As long as she agreed to be his wife, Eris couldn’t have cared less what name she went by.

“The final thing I want to discuss today is violence in the home,” Nesta said, any trace of levity gone from her expression. “This is a subject close to my heart, and the High Lord’s as well.” Nesta again shot him a fleeting glance.

“What occurs in the home happens behind closed doors. It is especially insidious for that reason. And this kind of violence doesn’t always look obvious and doesn’t always leave bruises.” Silver flashed in her eyes and she took a breath. “It can come in the form of being forced into situations you don’t want to be a part of. It can look like choices being taken away from you. It can be sexual violence. It can be constant belittling, angry and hurtful words. It can look like neglect. Like financial control and dependence. It can come in many, many forms. And none of them are acceptable.”

“Any person found to be a perpetrator of violence in the home will be suitably dealt with, with possible punishments including imprisonment and banishment from the Autumn Court for the most serious offenses,” Nesta continued. “But it’s less about punishing the offenders than protecting the victims. So if you find yourself a victim of violence in the home at any stage, I want you to know two things – first of all, it’s not your fault.” She looked around at the girls. “It is never, ever your fault. There is nothing you could do that justifies that type of behavior. Secondly, in this court there will always be help available. I’d like to invite my friend, Gwyneth Berdara, to tell you more about that.”

Gwyn had been sitting among the audience, but now she rose to her feet and came to join Nesta at the front of the room. She saw Eris and Cordelia at the back and gave them a little wave. She was wearing Autumn-style attire, brown suede pants and a plain bronze-coloured tunic, rather than her priestess robes. But her pale blue invoking stone rested at her forehead, reflecting the light.

“Hello, everyone,” she said, her warm voice betraying no nerves at addressing such a large group. Gwyn had come a long way. “I’d like to thank Lady Nesta for inviting me here today. For those who don’t know who I am-”

A few giggles and a little murmur went around the room at this, and Eris grinned. After the role Gwyneth Berdara, priestess and Valkyrie, had played in the battle against Koschei, there was nobody in all of Prythian who didn’t know who she was. And there was probably not one young female in this room who wouldn’t consider her an idol, and rightly so.

Gwyn smiled and ducked her head for a second. “For those who don’t know who I am,” she repeated, “I am the Director of The Sanctuary, a place of safety for females and children escaping violence. Our centre provides a place for people to stay, receive support and treatment – counselling, financial help, educational support, employment training – anything you need, really, to get you to a point where you feel confident enough to face the world again.”

Gwyn looked out at the sea of faces. “I was a victim of violence myself once,” she said calmly. “I understand how it rips your foundations out from under you, how it destroys your confidence. I was fortunate to be given a safe place to heal from that trauma, and our mission at The Sanctuary is to do the same for every female and youngling that needs it. I work with a team of priestesses who receive special training to understand the needs of victims.” She paused for a moment. “I hope none of you ever have need of our services. But if you do, if any of your friends or loved ones do, we’re there.”

Gwyn resumed her seat and Nesta spoke once again. “That’s everything we wanted to discuss today. I just want you all to know that each and every one of you is vital to the future of the Autumn Court. I hope you will all value yourselves the way the High Lord and I do. If any of you are interested in finding out more about the Academy, Lady Vanserra is available in the parlour and would be happy to speak with you. Thank you for coming today.”

The girls applauded politely before slowly making their way out of the room, chattering to one another and occasionally shooting shy glances in his direction or cooing at Cordelia as they passed. Eventually only the four of them were left. Eris quickly helped Nesta and Gwyn to stack the chairs at one end of the room while Cordelia sat on the floor, playing with a toy Elain and Lucien had sent her from Day. It was a little crystal mounted on a wand that made beams of rainbow light dance as she wielded it. Cordelia was enchanted by it.

“Whatcha got there, Cordi-lou?” Gwyn asked, kneeling down beside her when they had finished tidying the room.

“It’s a magic stick,” Cordelia explained. “It makes rainbows.”

“Oh, so pretty!” Gwyn enthused. “Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to come to the evening service with me and hear the singing?”

“Yesssss!” Cordelia said happily. She was too young to understand the services, but she loved the music as much as Nesta did. “Can I bring my rainbow stick?”

“I don’t see why not,” Gwyn agreed. “As long as you don’t wave it around during the service.”

“I won’t,” Cordelia promised. “Is Uncle Az coming?” She adored Gwyn’s mate, and the feeling was mutual.

“No sweetie, he’s in Velaris just now,” Gwyn said. “But you know what that means? I’m kind of lonely at our place. Do you think you could come for a sleepover after the service and keep me company?”

Cordelia looked up at Eris and Nesta with shining eyes. “Can I?”

Nesta shot Eris a sideways glance. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Any objections?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“No, you go ahead and have fun,” Eris said, kissing Cordelia on the head. “You make sure you listen to what Auntie Gwyn says, alright?”

“I will!” Cordelia placed her little hand in Gwyn’s and began dragging her toward the door of the assembly room.

Nesta waited until they were out the door before she turned to Eris, narrowing her eyes. “Alright, what are you up to?”

“Me?” he said innocently.

“I know you don’t honestly believe I fell for that impromptu invitation,” Nesta said, rolling her eyes. “I adore Gwyn, but she is horrible at lying. What have you two cooked up?”

Eris should have known better than to think he could get anything past his wife. “Fine,” he said, smirking. “There’s something I want to talk to you about, and it will be easier without our little whirlwind interrupting every few seconds. So I asked Gwyn to take her for the night so we can have a quiet dinner together. And an evening without a child in our bed.” Cordelia generally went to sleep in her own room, but made her way to theirs at some point during the night. They inevitably woke with her wedged between them. Eris didn’t mind it – he adored waking up with his two favorite girls, in fact. But never knowing when their daughter was likely to make an appearance did tend to put a bit of a damper on any nocturnal activities other than sleeping.

Nesta grinned as though reading his mind. “Alright, I’m listening.”

*****

“Where is everyone?” Nesta asked as they sat down to dinner. Ever since Beron had been gone, they had all preferred to use this small, family dining room in lieu of the cavernous formal banquet hall. But most evenings the table still accommodated at least six. Seeing it set for only two was incongruous.

“Well, Mother has gone to Day for the rest of the week…” Eris said.

“Also your doing, no doubt.”

“Not at all,” he argued. “If Mother wants to spend time with Lucien – and Helion – who am I to deny her?”

“The picture of innocence,” Nesta said dubiously, spooning vegetables onto her plate. “Your brothers?”

“The Reach, the training camps and the Summer Court, respectively.”

“Out with it, then. What is it we have to discuss that necessitated clearing everyone out of the house?”

“I think it’s time you became High Lady of this court,” Eris said, without preamble.

Nesta put down her fork. “What? No.”

“No? Why not?” Of all the ways Eris had envisaged this conversation possibly going, an immediate, flat-out refusal was not something he’d considered.

Nesta said nothing for a few moments, thinking. “I don’t know. I’m just… it doesn’t sound like me. I like being the Lady of this court, but I don’t need to be High Lady.”

Eris regarded his wife. Nesta cared for neither titles nor ceremony. Her mother had tried to mold her into a grasping social climber, but leaving the Night Court and her sisters behind had been her final rejection of that past. Nesta would have been content with a quiet existence. But she’d been made for greatness and it kept finding her.

“You’ve just as much right to the title as Feyre,” Eris said quietly. “If not more.”

“Is that what this is about, their visit? Rhysand has a High Lady, so you think you should have one too?”

“No!” Eris said, genuinely shocked. “You’re worth a thousand of them no matter what your title, or without any title at all.”

Feyre and Rhysand were to make their first official visit to Autumn in a little under two months – and they would bring their General with them, no doubt. Nesta had left any anger she felt towards any of them behind long ago, but Eris wasn’t sure he could ever completely forgive them for all the pain that they’d caused his wife. After she’d come to Autumn, it had taken her months to even discuss some of it with him. Much longer still for her to understand she wasn’t to blame for it. He’d tolerate Rhys and Feyre’s presence in this court for the sake of diplomacy, but posturing for their benefit was of no interest to him. He and Nesta had nothing to prove.

“So if I don’t need the title, why are you so eager to give me it?” Nesta asked, jolting him back into the moment.

“It’s not about me giving you anything,” Eris said. “You’ve earned the right to be High Lady. The effort you’ve put into making the Autumn a better place… I always had dreams of what this court could be Nesta, but without you, I couldn’t have achieved a fraction of what we’ve done since Beron’s demise. Our people respect me, but they adore you.”

“And I them,” Nesta said simply. “I don’t need to be their High Lady for that.”

Eris smiled. “Maybe not, but you know they’d love it. The Mother knows, they deserve something to celebrate.” The years after Koschei had been tough. There was not one family in Autumn – in all of Prythian – that had not suffered. It hadn’t been an ideal time to take over the reins as High Lord, but he and Nesta had built back their court, and won the loyalty of their people in the process. The birth of Cordelia four years ago had cemented Autumn’s affection for their little family.

“And there’s something you ought not to forget,” he went on, suddenly inspired. “There’s a little girl who thinks the world of you, and who might get to be High Lady of Autumn herself someday. Don’t you think that would be easier if she’d had a role model go before her?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Bringing Cordi into this is absolute chicanery, Eris Vanserra! I’d have thought such things were beneath you,” she sniffed.

But Eris had seen the doubt creeping into her expression, and grinned. “Nothing is beneath me if it will help convince you to take your rightful place as High Lady of Autumn. My equal. My superior, if we’re being honest,” he said earnestly.

“Don’t over-egg the pudding,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Alright, fine. If it will make you shut up, I’ll do it. But I’m not changing anything apart from the title. I’m still going to be working with your mother on The Academy, and with Gwyn on The Sanctuary. And I’m still going to be-”

“Raining down terror on our nobility and demanding progress that nobody else is ready for? My dearest love, I would expect nothing less. I’m counting on it.”

*****

Nesta smoothed her skirts for the third time, her fingers worrying at the moss green shot silk. Eris glanced sideways at her.

“If I didn’t know better, Nesta Archeron, I’d say that you were nervous.”

She glared at him. “I am nervous! I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”

He smiled at his wife, who had endured and triumphed over more than most could even imagine.

“We’ll do something official in the coming weeks. But this evening is private. It will just be you, me and the priestesses. So there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

Nesta looked over at him. “Really? Just us?”

“Just us,” Eris confirmed. “I thought you might like it better that way. But we will have a little celebration afterward, if that’s okay. Just family. Emerie’s coming from Illyria, and Lucien, Elain and Helion from Day.”

She gave him a grateful look. “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you. I’m glad it’s not going to be some pompous fae spectacle.”

Eris hid another smile. He wondered if Nesta would ever stop speaking of fae as though she wasn’t one of them. Far from being offended, he found it quite charming. It was fascinating to see fae behavior and customs from her perspective. It often made him look at things he’d accepted unquestioningly in a new light.

Gwyn came out to antechamber, arrayed in her robes. She sat down beside Nesta. “Jako is ready for you now,” she said quietly. “Do you have any questions before we go in?”

“Is it too late to call it off?” Nesta muttered.

Gwyn gave her friend an indulgent smile. “I’m so happy you’re doing this, you know. It’s such a huge step for the women of Autumn. An important step. Come.” Brooking none of Nesta’s objections, she took her by the hand and led her into the inner sanctum.

Standing with Nesta, facing one another before the High Priestess, couldn’t fail to put Eris in mind of their wedding. The whole thing had felt surreal. When Nesta had agreed to come to Autumn, she’d made it clear that it was on a trial basis only and she was neither accepting Eris’s proposal nor making any promises of her own. She’d been surprised when he readily agreed to give her sanctuary despite these stipulations.

He’d soon realised why. She was less than one tenth his age, and yet Nesta’s trust had been betrayed enough to last several fae lifetimes. So he’d adjusted his expectations. If there was one thing that Eris understood, it was patience. It was when they both knew that the battle with Koschei was imminent that she’d come to him.

“Do you still want to marry me?” she’d asked, in her disarming, direct way.

“Yes,” he’d replied without hesitation.

“Will you do it without any fae nonsense?”

“Yes.” He’d do the ceremony naked and standing on one leg if that’s what she wanted.

“Then I’ll do it.”

Eris’s mouth had gone dry. “You’re saying yes? Why now?”

She’d shrugged. “Because of all you’ve done for me. Because who knows if we’ll even be alive in a week’s time. But mostly because I love you.”

“Why does this feel so much like a wedding?” Nesta was saying under her breath, reading his mind as always.

The High Priestess overhead despite her low tone, and chuckled. “Well, it is, in a way. Except instead of committing yourself to a person, you’re committing yourself to a whole court.”

“No pressure, then,” Nesta joked, but she looked a little wan.

“No, no pressure,” Jako replied. “If there is love in your heart for this court and its people, you will be a loyal and just High Lady.” She smiled down at Nesta. “Are you ready?”

Nesta swallowed, then nodded.

Despite the fact that these priestesses had never had cause to perform it before, the ritual was beautifully done. It began with a hymn to the Mother in an ancient fae tongue. “It asks her to bless you with her gifts,” Eris whispered to Nesta. “Unnecessary, really, as you’re already favoured by the Mother. But the power of High Lords is seen as being bestowed by The Cauldron, so when anointing a High Lady, the Mother’s blessing is sought. It provides a kind of balance, I suppose.”

“You understand this?” Nesta asked.

“The gist of it, not word for word. I’ve done some study of ancient languages.”

“Of course you have,” she said with a half smile.

The hymn was lovely. Performed with just voices, the majority of the priestesses carried a low chant – sung at a pitch that had to be deeper than their natural registers. This was accompanied by a high, sweet contrasting melody, performed by a handful of the most gifted vocalists among the priestesses, Gwyn included. She had explained to Eris and Nesta, when she talked them through the ritual, that the two songs, blended yet distinct, were supposed to represent the light of The Mother, weaving through the darkness as she created their world and everything in it.

When the hymn concluded, there was stillness for a few long minutes as the priestesses silently prayed. But the very stone of the chapel still seemed to vibrate with sound and energy.

The period of silent prayer came to an end. All the priestesses except for Gwyn and Jako slowly filed out, leaving just the four of them to complete the most sacred parts of the ritual.

The High Priestess stepped forward to read from a leather-bound tome, still in the same old language. Something about sacred duty and binding and union. Eris couldn’t remember what Gwyn had said about this part. But it didn’t seem to require anything of them other than to stand there and listen.

When the reading came to an end, Jako motioned them both forward and had them stand at either side of a large stone set into the floor of the chapel. It glowed pale blue, similar to the invoking stones the priestesses wore over their hoods. It sat at the center point of a mandala carved directly into the stone floor of the chapel.

Eris sucked in a few deep breaths. This was the only part of the ritual he didn’t feel entirely comfortable with. He looked into Nesta’s eyes – clear and unafraid, but limned with the silvery gleam that was always there when she was experiencing strong emotion. Gwyn stepped forward, Eris’s dagger in held out in both hands, palms up.

“That’s the knife you chose?”

“It could hardly be any other.”

The dagger was plain and unadorned, but it sang with power. Power ripped from the Cauldron itself, and imbued in the knife by its maker. Nesta Archeron. The dagger that had dispatched his father and made him High Lord. The dagger that had proved vital to Koschei’s defeat.

A little piece of the power of the Cauldron, in a ritual dedicated to the Mother.

Balance.

Eris nodded to Nesta. She exhaled slowly. Then she took the dagger from Gwyn.

Eris offered her his right palm. She hesitated for a moment, then drew the blade along it. The corners of her mouth tightened as blood welled from the wound.

She passed the knife to him, then held out her own hand. Eris held the blade to her palm, but could not make himself slice into her flesh.

“Hurry up and do it,” Nesta begged.

He closed his eyes, and pressed down on the knife. Nesta didn’t make a sound, but when he opened his eyes, blood pooled in her palm as well. They gripped their right hands together tightly. Jako nodded at Eris. He cleared his throat.

“With my heart’s blood as my vow, I make you High Lady. From this day, we rule as one. Two halves of a whole, united in power.”

Jako inclined her head toward Nesta.

“With my heart’s blood as my vow, I become High Lady. From this day, we rule as one. Two halves of a whole, united in power.”

Eris’s eyes met Nesta’s, still dancing with silver light. He loosened his grip on her hand, and they allowed their mingled blood to drip and anoint the sacred stone.

He looked toward Jako. As Gwyn had explained it, that completed the ritual. It was done. Nesta was his High Lady. He smiled at her.

But instead of smiling back, she gasped in shock. “Nesta? What’s the-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the words were drowned out by a roaring in his head. He felt lightning racing in his veins, and something cool and heavy swirl in his belly. It was exhilaration and pain, ecstasy and torment. It felt similar to when the High Lord powers had settled in him, but more alien. More intense and disorienting. He grabbed for Nesta and held her to him as the strange sensations began to subside.

“Nesta! Are you okay? Talk to me.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s just I- I didn’t know that was going to happen.” She rounded on Gwyn. “You didn’t tell me about that part!”

Gwyn blinked. “What part?”

“That I’d get some of Eris’s powers! That would have been useful information to have before I agreed to this.”

Gwyn looked at her blankly. “What? I didn’t know. You have his powers? How do you know?”

“Because I can feel it,” Nesta said, frowning. “I can feel it. The flame – it’s different to mine. It’s… warm.” She held her injured right hand out in front of her, and for a second, golden flame danced over her palm.

She looked up at Eris. “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t want to take your powers!” Nesta looked upset, almost… guilty?

“I didn’t know either,” he said. “Powers being transferred… I’ve only ever heard of that happening to mates.” He turned toward Jako. “What is this?”

The High Priestess looked thoughtful. “I don’t know anything about it, but this ritual hasn’t been performed in Autumn in living memory,” she said. “It’s possible that some of the detail has been lost to history.”

“Well, you taught her to master her powers,” Gwyn said chirpily, trying to dispel some of the tension. “Now you’ll just have to teach her to master yours as well. Here, take your knife back.” She held the dagger out to Eris, but Jako stayed her hand.

“But this is a Made object!” she said, looking at it closely for the first time.

“Yes,” Eris said. “The occasion seemed to demand something special.”

“May I?” Jako said, indicating the dagger.

“Of course.”

She held it up, examining it. “You know… this could be answer here,” she mused. “Or part of it, at least.”

“What do you mean?” Nesta asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Well, as the High Lord said – transference of powers is usually seen in association with a mating bond – that is, a bond between equals, ordained by the Cauldron,” the High Priestess said, turning the knife over in her hand. “But during the ritual, you effectively made yourselves equals – two halves of a whole, united in power – and sealed the pact with an object imbued with the power of the cauldron.”

Eris frowned. “Are you saying… that we’ve somehow created our own mating bond?”

“Not a mating bond exactly, but a powerful bond of some sort,” Jako said. “The funny thing is though, I’d have expected it to go both ways.”

“Both ways? How do you mean?”

“Well, for something of the High Lady to pass to you as well.”

Eris and Nesta exchanged glances. She stepped forward, staring intently at him. As he met her silvery gaze, Eris felt something in him shift in response.

Nesta turned to the High Priestess. “Can I have that knife for a moment?” Jako passed it to her silently.

She held the flat of the blade up to Eris’s face. “Look. Your eyes.”

He peered into the reflective surface. His eyes looked… normal? The blade was shiny, but not as clear as a looking glass. But his own amber eyes looked back at him, completely familiar. Except for just around the pupil, where there was a little ring of…

Silver.

A ficlet inspired by @too-manybooks's post about Nesta making Eris his High Lady and some of his power transferring to her, because my main fic is a slog right now and I couldn't resist the prompt.

The fire in my veins (Neris)

[4584 words]

This is set a decade or so into the future, because while we can make people with no political experience and little knowledge of the places or people they will rule over into High Ladies instantly just 'cause we we have a boner for them, it probably doesn't serve them or their courts to do so. I said what I said. Also, the stupid ass deathbaby subplot doesn't exist and Nesta got to keep her powers. TL:DR, pure wish fulfilment.

Eris watched fondly from the back of the room as his lady, his Queen, held the rapt attention of the roomful of adolescent girls.

“Now, I understand that all of this is very new to you,” she was saying. “You’re used to deferring to the males in your life. That’s how it’s always been. But I’m here to tell you that you matter. What you want matters. That’s why the High Lord-” here she paused to glance over at Eris, flashing him an almost imperceptible smile, “-and I have made these changes to the law.”

Eris hadn’t even realised she’d seen them come in. But of course she had. His wife was always aware of everything.

“So marriage, if it occurs at all, will be your choice,” she went on. “No marriage licences will be issued without the express consent of the couple, both parties. Which must be given in person at the local registry office. If anybody attempts to coerce consent from you, there are systems in place to deal with that and help available to you, both practical and financial support.” She looked around the room, making eye contact with each of the girls in turn to emphasize her point. “No female of the Autumn Court will ever again be subjugated by a male. Not her father, not her husband. Not even her mate. Not while I live and breathe,” she vowed.

“Mama is so smart,” Cordelia breathed beside him. “Everyone listens to her.”

Eris smiled down at his daughter, squeezed her hand. She was, and they did. And their little girl was turning out to be just like her.

“Of course, if you do wish to marry of your own free will, that will always be supported,” Nesta continued. “Whether the person you wish to wed is a male or a female.” There was a little gasp and a few titters here, which drew an easy smile from Nesta before she went on. “But I would encourage you to ensure you experience a little of the world and all it has to offer before you consider such a commitment. Don’t neglect your education, especially. The Lady Vanserra Academy is open to you all. Regardless of your previous standard of education, there is a place for you there.”

The Academy was a passion project between Nesta and his mother – and named for the latter, although the title of Lady was now technically held by Nesta. She was Lady Archeron, though – when they had married, she had been firm about retaining that link to her human heritage. As long as she agreed to be his wife, Eris couldn’t have cared less what name she went by.

“The final thing I want to discuss today is violence in the home,” Nesta said, any trace of levity gone from her expression. “This is a subject close to my heart, and the High Lord’s as well.” Nesta again shot him a fleeting glance.

“What occurs in the home happens behind closed doors. It is especially insidious for that reason. And this kind of violence doesn’t always look obvious and doesn’t always leave bruises.” Silver flashed in her eyes and she took a breath. “It can come in the form of being forced into situations you don’t want to be a part of. It can look like choices being taken away from you. It can be sexual violence. It can be constant belittling, angry and hurtful words. It can look like neglect. Like financial control and dependence. It can come in many, many forms. And none of them are acceptable.”

“Any person found to be a perpetrator of violence in the home will be suitably dealt with, with possible punishments including imprisonment and banishment from the Autumn Court for the most serious offenses,” Nesta continued. “But it’s less about punishing the offenders than protecting the victims. So if you find yourself a victim of violence in the home at any stage, I want you to know two things – first of all, it’s not your fault.” She looked around at the girls. “It is never, ever your fault. There is nothing you could do that justifies that type of behavior. Secondly, in this court there will always be help available. I’d like to invite my friend, Gwyneth Berdara, to tell you more about that.”

Gwyn had been sitting among the audience, but now she rose to her feet and came to join Nesta at the front of the room. She saw Eris and Cordelia at the back and gave them a little wave. She was wearing Autumn-style attire, brown suede pants and a plain bronze-coloured tunic, rather than her priestess robes. But her pale blue invoking stone rested at her forehead, reflecting the light.

“Hello, everyone,” she said, her warm voice betraying no nerves at addressing such a large group. Gwyn had come a long way. “I’d like to thank Lady Nesta for inviting me here today. For those who don’t know who I am-”

A few giggles and a little murmur went around the room at this, and Eris grinned. After the role Gwyneth Berdara, priestess and Valkyrie, had played in the battle against Koschei, there was nobody in all of Prythian who didn’t know who she was. And there was probably not one young female in this room who wouldn’t consider her an idol, and rightly so.

Gwyn smiled and ducked her head for a second. “For those who don’t know who I am,” she repeated, “I am the Director of The Sanctuary, a place of safety for females and children escaping violence. Our centre provides a place for people to stay, receive support and treatment – counselling, financial help, educational support, employment training – anything you need, really, to get you to a point where you feel confident enough to face the world again.”

Gwyn looked out at the sea of faces. “I was a victim of violence myself once,” she said calmly. “I understand how it rips your foundations out from under you, how it destroys your confidence. I was fortunate to be given a safe place to heal from that trauma, and our mission at The Sanctuary is to do the same for every female and youngling that needs it. I work with a team of priestesses who receive special training to understand the needs of victims.” She paused for a moment. “I hope none of you ever have need of our services. But if you do, if any of your friends or loved ones do, we’re there.”

Gwyn resumed her seat and Nesta spoke once again. “That’s everything we wanted to discuss today. I just want you all to know that each and every one of you is vital to the future of the Autumn Court. I hope you will all value yourselves the way the High Lord and I do. If any of you are interested in finding out more about the Academy, Lady Vanserra is available in the parlour and would be happy to speak with you. Thank you for coming today.”

The girls applauded politely before slowly making their way out of the room, chattering to one another and occasionally shooting shy glances in his direction or cooing at Cordelia as they passed. Eventually only the four of them were left. Eris quickly helped Nesta and Gwyn to stack the chairs at one end of the room while Cordelia sat on the floor, playing with a toy Elain and Lucien had sent her from Day. It was a little crystal mounted on a wand that made beams of rainbow light dance as she wielded it. Cordelia was enchanted by it.

“Whatcha got there, Cordi-lou?” Gwyn asked, kneeling down beside her when they had finished tidying the room.

“It’s a magic stick,” Cordelia explained. “It makes rainbows.”

“Oh, so pretty!” Gwyn enthused. “Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to come to the evening service with me and hear the singing?”

“Yesssss!” Cordelia said happily. She was too young to understand the services, but she loved the music as much as Nesta did. “Can I bring my rainbow stick?”

“I don’t see why not,” Gwyn agreed. “As long as you don’t wave it around during the service.”

“I won’t,” Cordelia promised. “Is Uncle Az coming?” She adored Gwyn’s mate, and the feeling was mutual.

“No sweetie, he’s in Velaris just now,” Gwyn said. “But you know what that means? I’m kind of lonely at our place. Do you think you could come for a sleepover after the service and keep me company?”

Cordelia looked up at Eris and Nesta with shining eyes. “Can I?”

Nesta shot Eris a sideways glance. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Any objections?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“No, you go ahead and have fun,” Eris said, kissing Cordelia on the head. “You make sure you listen to what Auntie Gwyn says, alright?”

“I will!” Cordelia placed her little hand in Gwyn’s and began dragging her toward the door of the assembly room.

Nesta waited until they were out the door before she turned to Eris, narrowing her eyes. “Alright, what are you up to?”

“Me?” he said innocently.

“I know you don’t honestly believe I fell for that impromptu invitation,” Nesta said, rolling her eyes. “I adore Gwyn, but she is horrible at lying. What have you two cooked up?”

Eris should have known better than to think he could get anything past his wife. “Fine,” he said, smirking. “There’s something I want to talk to you about, and it will be easier without our little whirlwind interrupting every few seconds. So I asked Gwyn to take her for the night so we can have a quiet dinner together. And an evening without a child in our bed.” Cordelia generally went to sleep in her own room, but made her way to theirs at some point during the night. They inevitably woke with her wedged between them. Eris didn’t mind it – he adored waking up with his two favorite girls, in fact. But never knowing when their daughter was likely to make an appearance did tend to put a bit of a damper on any nocturnal activities other than sleeping.

Nesta grinned as though reading his mind. “Alright, I’m listening.”

*****

“Where is everyone?” Nesta asked as they sat down to dinner. Ever since Beron had been gone, they had all preferred to use this small, family dining room in lieu of the cavernous formal banquet hall. But most evenings the table still accommodated at least six. Seeing it set for only two was incongruous.

“Well, Mother has gone to Day for the rest of the week…” Eris said.

“Also your doing, no doubt.”

“Not at all,” he argued. “If Mother wants to spend time with Lucien – and Helion – who am I to deny her?”

“The picture of innocence,” Nesta said dubiously, spooning vegetables onto her plate. “Your brothers?”

“The Reach, the training camps and the Summer Court, respectively.”

“Out with it, then. What is it we have to discuss that necessitated clearing everyone out of the house?”

“I think it’s time you became High Lady of this court,” Eris said, without preamble.

Nesta put down her fork. “What? No.”

“No? Why not?” Of all the ways Eris had envisaged this conversation possibly going, an immediate, flat-out refusal was not something he’d considered.

Nesta said nothing for a few moments, thinking. “I don’t know. I’m just… it doesn’t sound like me. I like being the Lady of this court, but I don’t need to be High Lady.”

Eris regarded his wife. Nesta cared for neither titles nor ceremony. Her mother had tried to mold her into a grasping social climber, but leaving the Night Court and her sisters behind had been her final rejection of that past. Nesta would have been content with a quiet existence. But she’d been made for greatness and it kept finding her.

“You’ve just as much right to the title as Feyre,” Eris said quietly. “If not more.”

“Is that what this is about, their visit? Rhysand has a High Lady, so you think you should have one too?”

“No!” Eris said, genuinely shocked. “You’re worth a thousand of them no matter what your title, or without any title at all.”

Feyre and Rhysand were to make their first official visit to Autumn in a little under two months – and they would bring their General with them, no doubt. Nesta had left any anger she felt towards any of them behind long ago, but Eris wasn’t sure he could ever completely forgive them for all the pain that they’d caused his wife. After she’d come to Autumn, it had taken her months to even discuss some of it with him. Much longer still for her to understand she wasn’t to blame for it. He’d tolerate Rhys and Feyre’s presence in this court for the sake of diplomacy, but posturing for their benefit was of no interest to him. He and Nesta had nothing to prove.

“So if I don’t need the title, why are you so eager to give me it?” Nesta asked, jolting him back into the moment.

“It’s not about me giving you anything,” Eris said. “You’ve earned the right to be High Lady. The effort you’ve put into making the Autumn a better place… I always had dreams of what this court could be Nesta, but without you, I couldn’t have achieved a fraction of what we’ve done since Beron’s demise. Our people respect me, but they adore you.”

“And I them,” Nesta said simply. “I don’t need to be their High Lady for that.”

Eris smiled. “Maybe not, but you know they’d love it. The Mother knows, they deserve something to celebrate.” The years after Koschei had been tough. There was not one family in Autumn – in all of Prythian – that had not suffered. It hadn’t been an ideal time to take over the reins as High Lord, but he and Nesta had built back their court, and won the loyalty of their people in the process. The birth of Cordelia four years ago had cemented Autumn’s affection for their little family.

“And there’s something you ought not to forget,” he went on, suddenly inspired. “There’s a little girl who thinks the world of you, and who might get to be High Lady of Autumn herself someday. Don’t you think that would be easier if she’d had a role model go before her?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Bringing Cordi into this is absolute chicanery, Eris Vanserra! I’d have thought such things were beneath you,” she sniffed.

But Eris had seen the doubt creeping into her expression, and grinned. “Nothing is beneath me if it will help convince you to take your rightful place as High Lady of Autumn. My equal. My superior, if we’re being honest,” he said earnestly.

“Don’t over-egg the pudding,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Alright, fine. If it will make you shut up, I’ll do it. But I’m not changing anything apart from the title. I’m still going to be working with your mother on The Academy, and with Gwyn on The Sanctuary. And I’m still going to be-”

“Raining down terror on our nobility and demanding progress that nobody else is ready for? My dearest love, I would expect nothing less. I’m counting on it.”

*****

Nesta smoothed her skirts for the third time, her fingers worrying at the moss green shot silk. Eris glanced sideways at her.

“If I didn’t know better, Nesta Archeron, I’d say that you were nervous.”

She glared at him. “I am nervous! I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”

He smiled at his wife, who had endured and triumphed over more than most could even imagine.

“We’ll do something official in the coming weeks. But this evening is private. It will just be you, me and the priestesses. So there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

Nesta looked over at him. “Really? Just us?”

“Just us,” Eris confirmed. “I thought you might like it better that way. But we will have a little celebration afterward, if that’s okay. Just family. Emerie’s coming from Illyria, and Lucien, Elain and Helion from Day.”

She gave him a grateful look. “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you. I’m glad it’s not going to be some pompous fae spectacle.”

Eris hid another smile. He wondered if Nesta would ever stop speaking of fae as though she wasn’t one of them. Far from being offended, he found it quite charming. It was fascinating to see fae behavior and customs from her perspective. It often made him look at things he’d accepted unquestioningly in a new light.

Gwyn came out to antechamber, arrayed in her robes. She sat down beside Nesta. “Jako is ready for you now,” she said quietly. “Do you have any questions before we go in?”

“Is it too late to call it off?” Nesta muttered.

Gwyn gave her friend an indulgent smile. “I’m so happy you’re doing this, you know. It’s such a huge step for the women of Autumn. An important step. Come.” Brooking none of Nesta’s objections, she took her by the hand and led her into the inner sanctum.

Standing with Nesta, facing one another before the High Priestess, couldn’t fail to put Eris in mind of their wedding. The whole thing had felt surreal. When Nesta had agreed to come to Autumn, she’d made it clear that it was on a trial basis only and she was neither accepting Eris’s proposal nor making any promises of her own. She’d been surprised when he readily agreed to give her sanctuary despite these stipulations.

He’d soon realised why. She was less than one tenth his age, and yet Nesta’s trust had been betrayed enough to last several fae lifetimes. So he’d adjusted his expectations. If there was one thing that Eris understood, it was patience. It was when they both knew that the battle with Koschei was imminent that she’d come to him.

“Do you still want to marry me?” she’d asked, in her disarming, direct way.

“Yes,” he’d replied without hesitation.

“Will you do it without any fae nonsense?”

“Yes.” He’d do the ceremony naked and standing on one leg if that’s what she wanted.

“Then I’ll do it.”

Eris’s mouth had gone dry. “You’re saying yes? Why now?”

She’d shrugged. “Because of all you’ve done for me. Because who knows if we’ll even be alive in a week’s time. But mostly because I love you.”

“Why does this feel so much like a wedding?” Nesta was saying under her breath, reading his mind as always.

The High Priestess overhead despite her low tone, and chuckled. “Well, it is, in a way. Except instead of committing yourself to a person, you’re committing yourself to a whole court.”

“No pressure, then,” Nesta joked, but she looked a little wan.

“No, no pressure,” Jako replied. “If there is love in your heart for this court and its people, you will be a loyal and just High Lady.” She smiled down at Nesta. “Are you ready?”

Nesta swallowed, then nodded.

Despite the fact that these priestesses had never had cause to perform it before, the ritual was beautifully done. It began with a hymn to the Mother in an ancient fae tongue. “It asks her to bless you with her gifts,” Eris whispered to Nesta. “Unnecessary, really, as you’re already favoured by the Mother. But the power of High Lords is seen as being bestowed by The Cauldron, so when anointing a High Lady, the Mother’s blessing is sought. It provides a kind of balance, I suppose.”

“You understand this?” Nesta asked.

“The gist of it, not word for word. I’ve done some study of ancient languages.”

“Of course you have,” she said with a half smile.

The hymn was lovely. Performed with just voices, the majority of the priestesses carried a low chant – sung at a pitch that had to be deeper than their natural registers. This was accompanied by a high, sweet contrasting melody, performed by a handful of the most gifted vocalists among the priestesses, Gwyn included. She had explained to Eris and Nesta, when she talked them through the ritual, that the two songs, blended yet distinct, were supposed to represent the light of The Mother, weaving through the darkness as she created their world and everything in it.

When the hymn concluded, there was stillness for a few long minutes as the priestesses silently prayed. But the very stone of the chapel still seemed to vibrate with sound and energy.

The period of silent prayer came to an end. All the priestesses except for Gwyn and Jako slowly filed out, leaving just the four of them to complete the most sacred parts of the ritual.

The High Priestess stepped forward to read from a leather-bound tome, still in the same old language. Something about sacred duty and binding and union. Eris couldn’t remember what Gwyn had said about this part. But it didn’t seem to require anything of them other than to stand there and listen.

When the reading came to an end, Jako motioned them both forward and had them stand at either side of a large stone set into the floor of the chapel. It glowed pale blue, similar to the invoking stones the priestesses wore over their hoods. It sat at the center point of a mandala carved directly into the stone floor of the chapel.

Eris sucked in a few deep breaths. This was the only part of the ritual he didn’t feel entirely comfortable with. He looked into Nesta’s eyes – clear and unafraid, but limned with the silvery gleam that was always there when she was experiencing strong emotion. Gwyn stepped forward, Eris’s dagger in held out in both hands, palms up.

“That’s the knife you chose?”

“It could hardly be any other.”

The dagger was plain and unadorned, but it sang with power. Power ripped from the Cauldron itself, and imbued in the knife by its maker. Nesta Archeron. The dagger that had dispatched his father and made him High Lord. The dagger that had proved vital to Koschei’s defeat.

A little piece of the power of the Cauldron, in a ritual dedicated to the Mother.

Balance.

Eris nodded to Nesta. She exhaled slowly. Then she took the dagger from Gwyn.

Eris offered her his right palm. She hesitated for a moment, then drew the blade along it. The corners of her mouth tightened as blood welled from the wound.

She passed the knife to him, then held out her own hand. Eris held the blade to her palm, but could not make himself slice into her flesh.

“Hurry up and do it,” Nesta begged.

He closed his eyes, and pressed down on the knife. Nesta didn’t make a sound, but when he opened his eyes, blood pooled in her palm as well. They gripped their right hands together tightly. Jako nodded at Eris. He cleared his throat.

“With my heart’s blood as my vow, I make you High Lady. From this day, we rule as one. Two halves of a whole, united in power.”

Jako inclined her head toward Nesta.

“With my heart’s blood as my vow, I become High Lady. From this day, we rule as one. Two halves of a whole, united in power.”

Eris’s eyes met Nesta’s, still dancing with silver light. He loosened his grip on her hand, and they allowed their mingled blood to drip and anoint the sacred stone.

He looked toward Jako. As Gwyn had explained it, that completed the ritual. It was done. Nesta was his High Lady. He smiled at her.

But instead of smiling back, she gasped in shock. “Nesta? What’s the-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the words were drowned out by a roaring in his head. He felt lightning racing in his veins, and something cool and heavy swirl in his belly. It was exhilaration and pain, ecstasy and torment. It felt similar to when the High Lord powers had settled in him, but more alien. More intense and disorienting. He grabbed for Nesta and held her to him as the strange sensations began to subside.

“Nesta! Are you okay? Talk to me.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s just I- I didn’t know that was going to happen.” She rounded on Gwyn. “You didn’t tell me about that part!”

Gwyn blinked. “What part?”

“That I’d get some of Eris’s powers! That would have been useful information to have before I agreed to this.”

Gwyn looked at her blankly. “What? I didn’t know. You have his powers? How do you know?”

“Because I can feel it,” Nesta said, frowning. “I can feel it. The flame – it’s different to mine. It’s… warm.” She held her injured right hand out in front of her, and for a second, golden flame danced over her palm.

She looked up at Eris. “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t want to take your powers!” Nesta looked upset, almost… guilty?

“I didn’t know either,” he said. “Powers being transferred… I’ve only ever heard of that happening to mates.” He turned toward Jako. “What is this?”

The High Priestess looked thoughtful. “I don’t know anything about it, but this ritual hasn’t been performed in Autumn in living memory,” she said. “It’s possible that some of the detail has been lost to history.”

“Well, you taught her to master her powers,” Gwyn said chirpily, trying to dispel some of the tension. “Now you’ll just have to teach her to master yours as well. Here, take your knife back.” She held the dagger out to Eris, but Jako stayed her hand.

“But this is a Made object!” she said, looking at it closely for the first time.

“Yes,” Eris said. “The occasion seemed to demand something special.”

“May I?” Jako said, indicating the dagger.

“Of course.”

She held it up, examining it. “You know… this could be answer here,” she mused. “Or part of it, at least.”

“What do you mean?” Nesta asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Well, as the High Lord said – transference of powers is usually seen in association with a mating bond – that is, a bond between equals, ordained by the Cauldron,” the High Priestess said, turning the knife over in her hand. “But during the ritual, you effectively made yourselves equals – two halves of a whole, united in power – and sealed the pact with an object imbued with the power of the cauldron.”

Eris frowned. “Are you saying… that we’ve somehow created our own mating bond?”

“Not a mating bond exactly, but a powerful bond of some sort,” Jako said. “The funny thing is though, I’d have expected it to go both ways.”

“Both ways? How do you mean?”

“Well, for something of the High Lady to pass to you as well.”

Eris and Nesta exchanged glances. She stepped forward, staring intently at him. As he met her silvery gaze, Eris felt something in him shift in response.

Nesta turned to the High Priestess. “Can I have that knife for a moment?” Jako passed it to her silently.

She held the flat of the blade up to Eris’s face. “Look. Your eyes.”

He peered into the reflective surface. His eyes looked… normal? The blade was shiny, but not as clear as a looking glass. But his own amber eyes looked back at him, completely familiar. Except for just around the pupil, where there was a little ring of…

Silver.

A ficlet inspired by @too-manybooks's post about Nesta making Eris his High Lady and some of his power transferring to her, because my main fic is a slog right now and I couldn't resist the prompt.

The fire in my veins (Neris)

[4584 words]

This is set a decade or so into the future, because while we can make people with no political experience and little knowledge of the places or people they will rule over into High Ladies instantly just 'cause we we have a boner for them, it probably doesn't serve them or their courts to do so. I said what I said. Also, the stupid ass deathbaby subplot doesn't exist and Nesta got to keep her powers. TL:DR, pure wish fulfilment.

Eris watched fondly from the back of the room as his lady, his Queen, held the rapt attention of the roomful of adolescent girls.

“Now, I understand that all of this is very new to you,” she was saying. “You’re used to deferring to the males in your life. That’s how it’s always been. But I’m here to tell you that you matter. What you want matters. That’s why the High Lord-” here she paused to glance over at Eris, flashing him an almost imperceptible smile, “-and I have made these changes to the law.”

Eris hadn’t even realised she’d seen them come in. But of course she had. His wife was always aware of everything.

“So marriage, if it occurs at all, will be your choice,” she went on. “No marriage licences will be issued without the express consent of the couple, both parties. Which must be given in person at the local registry office. If anybody attempts to coerce consent from you, there are systems in place to deal with that and help available to you, both practical and financial support.” She looked around the room, making eye contact with each of the girls in turn to emphasize her point. “No female of the Autumn Court will ever again be subjugated by a male. Not her father, not her husband. Not even her mate. Not while I live and breathe,” she vowed.

“Mama is so smart,” Cordelia breathed beside him. “Everyone listens to her.”

Eris smiled down at his daughter, squeezed her hand. She was, and they did. And their little girl was turning out to be just like her.

“Of course, if you do wish to marry of your own free will, that will always be supported,” Nesta continued. “Whether the person you wish to wed is a male or a female.” There was a little gasp and a few titters here, which drew an easy smile from Nesta before she went on. “But I would encourage you to ensure you experience a little of the world and all it has to offer before you consider such a commitment. Don’t neglect your education, especially. The Lady Vanserra Academy is open to you all. Regardless of your previous standard of education, there is a place for you there.”

The Academy was a passion project between Nesta and his mother – and named for the latter, although the title of Lady was now technically held by Nesta. She was Lady Archeron, though – when they had married, she had been firm about retaining that link to her human heritage. As long as she agreed to be his wife, Eris couldn’t have cared less what name she went by.

“The final thing I want to discuss today is violence in the home,” Nesta said, any trace of levity gone from her expression. “This is a subject close to my heart, and the High Lord’s as well.” Nesta again shot him a fleeting glance.

“What occurs in the home happens behind closed doors. It is especially insidious for that reason. And this kind of violence doesn’t always look obvious and doesn’t always leave bruises.” Silver flashed in her eyes and she took a breath. “It can come in the form of being forced into situations you don’t want to be a part of. It can look like choices being taken away from you. It can be sexual violence. It can be constant belittling, angry and hurtful words. It can look like neglect. Like financial control and dependence. It can come in many, many forms. And none of them are acceptable.”

“Any person found to be a perpetrator of violence in the home will be suitably dealt with, with possible punishments including imprisonment and banishment from the Autumn Court for the most serious offenses,” Nesta continued. “But it’s less about punishing the offenders than protecting the victims. So if you find yourself a victim of violence in the home at any stage, I want you to know two things – first of all, it’s not your fault.” She looked around at the girls. “It is never, ever your fault. There is nothing you could do that justifies that type of behavior. Secondly, in this court there will always be help available. I’d like to invite my friend, Gwyneth Berdara, to tell you more about that.”

Gwyn had been sitting among the audience, but now she rose to her feet and came to join Nesta at the front of the room. She saw Eris and Cordelia at the back and gave them a little wave. She was wearing Autumn-style attire, brown suede pants and a plain bronze-coloured tunic, rather than her priestess robes. But her pale blue invoking stone rested at her forehead, reflecting the light.

“Hello, everyone,” she said, her warm voice betraying no nerves at addressing such a large group. Gwyn had come a long way. “I’d like to thank Lady Nesta for inviting me here today. For those who don’t know who I am-”

A few giggles and a little murmur went around the room at this, and Eris grinned. After the role Gwyneth Berdara, priestess and Valkyrie, had played in the battle against Koschei, there was nobody in all of Prythian who didn’t know who she was. And there was probably not one young female in this room who wouldn’t consider her an idol, and rightly so.

Gwyn smiled and ducked her head for a second. “For those who don’t know who I am,” she repeated, “I am the Director of The Sanctuary, a place of safety for females and children escaping violence. Our centre provides a place for people to stay, receive support and treatment – counselling, financial help, educational support, employment training – anything you need, really, to get you to a point where you feel confident enough to face the world again.”

Gwyn looked out at the sea of faces. “I was a victim of violence myself once,” she said calmly. “I understand how it rips your foundations out from under you, how it destroys your confidence. I was fortunate to be given a safe place to heal from that trauma, and our mission at The Sanctuary is to do the same for every female and youngling that needs it. I work with a team of priestesses who receive special training to understand the needs of victims.” She paused for a moment. “I hope none of you ever have need of our services. But if you do, if any of your friends or loved ones do, we’re there.”

Gwyn resumed her seat and Nesta spoke once again. “That’s everything we wanted to discuss today. I just want you all to know that each and every one of you is vital to the future of the Autumn Court. I hope you will all value yourselves the way the High Lord and I do. If any of you are interested in finding out more about the Academy, Lady Vanserra is available in the parlour and would be happy to speak with you. Thank you for coming today.”

The girls applauded politely before slowly making their way out of the room, chattering to one another and occasionally shooting shy glances in his direction or cooing at Cordelia as they passed. Eventually only the four of them were left. Eris quickly helped Nesta and Gwyn to stack the chairs at one end of the room while Cordelia sat on the floor, playing with a toy Elain and Lucien had sent her from Day. It was a little crystal mounted on a wand that made beams of rainbow light dance as she wielded it. Cordelia was enchanted by it.

“Whatcha got there, Cordi-lou?” Gwyn asked, kneeling down beside her when they had finished tidying the room.

“It’s a magic stick,” Cordelia explained. “It makes rainbows.”

“Oh, so pretty!” Gwyn enthused. “Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to come to the evening service with me and hear the singing?”

“Yesssss!” Cordelia said happily. She was too young to understand the services, but she loved the music as much as Nesta did. “Can I bring my rainbow stick?”

“I don’t see why not,” Gwyn agreed. “As long as you don’t wave it around during the service.”

“I won’t,” Cordelia promised. “Is Uncle Az coming?” She adored Gwyn’s mate, and the feeling was mutual.

“No sweetie, he’s in Velaris just now,” Gwyn said. “But you know what that means? I’m kind of lonely at our place. Do you think you could come for a sleepover after the service and keep me company?”

Cordelia looked up at Eris and Nesta with shining eyes. “Can I?”

Nesta shot Eris a sideways glance. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Any objections?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“No, you go ahead and have fun,” Eris said, kissing Cordelia on the head. “You make sure you listen to what Auntie Gwyn says, alright?”

“I will!” Cordelia placed her little hand in Gwyn’s and began dragging her toward the door of the assembly room.

Nesta waited until they were out the door before she turned to Eris, narrowing her eyes. “Alright, what are you up to?”

“Me?” he said innocently.

“I know you don’t honestly believe I fell for that impromptu invitation,” Nesta said, rolling her eyes. “I adore Gwyn, but she is horrible at lying. What have you two cooked up?”

Eris should have known better than to think he could get anything past his wife. “Fine,” he said, smirking. “There’s something I want to talk to you about, and it will be easier without our little whirlwind interrupting every few seconds. So I asked Gwyn to take her for the night so we can have a quiet dinner together. And an evening without a child in our bed.” Cordelia generally went to sleep in her own room, but made her way to theirs at some point during the night. They inevitably woke with her wedged between them. Eris didn’t mind it – he adored waking up with his two favorite girls, in fact. But never knowing when their daughter was likely to make an appearance did tend to put a bit of a damper on any nocturnal activities other than sleeping.

Nesta grinned as though reading his mind. “Alright, I’m listening.”

*****

“Where is everyone?” Nesta asked as they sat down to dinner. Ever since Beron had been gone, they had all preferred to use this small, family dining room in lieu of the cavernous formal banquet hall. But most evenings the table still accommodated at least six. Seeing it set for only two was incongruous.

“Well, Mother has gone to Day for the rest of the week…” Eris said.

“Also your doing, no doubt.”

“Not at all,” he argued. “If Mother wants to spend time with Lucien – and Helion – who am I to deny her?”

“The picture of innocence,” Nesta said dubiously, spooning vegetables onto her plate. “Your brothers?”

“The Reach, the training camps and the Summer Court, respectively.”

“Out with it, then. What is it we have to discuss that necessitated clearing everyone out of the house?”

“I think it’s time you became High Lady of this court,” Eris said, without preamble.

Nesta put down her fork. “What? No.”

“No? Why not?” Of all the ways Eris had envisaged this conversation possibly going, an immediate, flat-out refusal was not something he’d considered.

Nesta said nothing for a few moments, thinking. “I don’t know. I’m just… it doesn’t sound like me. I like being the Lady of this court, but I don’t need to be High Lady.”

Eris regarded his wife. Nesta cared for neither titles nor ceremony. Her mother had tried to mold her into a grasping social climber, but leaving the Night Court and her sisters behind had been her final rejection of that past. Nesta would have been content with a quiet existence. But she’d been made for greatness and it kept finding her.

“You’ve just as much right to the title as Feyre,” Eris said quietly. “If not more.”

“Is that what this is about, their visit? Rhysand has a High Lady, so you think you should have one too?”

“No!” Eris said, genuinely shocked. “You’re worth a thousand of them no matter what your title, or without any title at all.”

Feyre and Rhysand were to make their first official visit to Autumn in a little under two months – and they would bring their General with them, no doubt. Nesta had left any anger she felt towards any of them behind long ago, but Eris wasn’t sure he could ever completely forgive them for all the pain that they’d caused his wife. After she’d come to Autumn, it had taken her months to even discuss some of it with him. Much longer still for her to understand she wasn’t to blame for it. He’d tolerate Rhys and Feyre’s presence in this court for the sake of diplomacy, but posturing for their benefit was of no interest to him. He and Nesta had nothing to prove.

“So if I don’t need the title, why are you so eager to give me it?” Nesta asked, jolting him back into the moment.

“It’s not about me giving you anything,” Eris said. “You’ve earned the right to be High Lady. The effort you’ve put into making the Autumn a better place… I always had dreams of what this court could be Nesta, but without you, I couldn’t have achieved a fraction of what we’ve done since Beron’s demise. Our people respect me, but they adore you.”

“And I them,” Nesta said simply. “I don’t need to be their High Lady for that.”

Eris smiled. “Maybe not, but you know they’d love it. The Mother knows, they deserve something to celebrate.” The years after Koschei had been tough. There was not one family in Autumn – in all of Prythian – that had not suffered. It hadn’t been an ideal time to take over the reins as High Lord, but he and Nesta had built back their court, and won the loyalty of their people in the process. The birth of Cordelia four years ago had cemented Autumn’s affection for their little family.

“And there’s something you ought not to forget,” he went on, suddenly inspired. “There’s a little girl who thinks the world of you, and who might get to be High Lady of Autumn herself someday. Don’t you think that would be easier if she’d had a role model go before her?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Bringing Cordi into this is absolute chicanery, Eris Vanserra! I’d have thought such things were beneath you,” she sniffed.

But Eris had seen the doubt creeping into her expression, and grinned. “Nothing is beneath me if it will help convince you to take your rightful place as High Lady of Autumn. My equal. My superior, if we’re being honest,” he said earnestly.

“Don’t over-egg the pudding,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Alright, fine. If it will make you shut up, I’ll do it. But I’m not changing anything apart from the title. I’m still going to be working with your mother on The Academy, and with Gwyn on The Sanctuary. And I’m still going to be-”

“Raining down terror on our nobility and demanding progress that nobody else is ready for? My dearest love, I would expect nothing less. I’m counting on it.”

*****

Nesta smoothed her skirts for the third time, her fingers worrying at the moss green shot silk. Eris glanced sideways at her.

“If I didn’t know better, Nesta Archeron, I’d say that you were nervous.”

She glared at him. “I am nervous! I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”

He smiled at his wife, who had endured and triumphed over more than most could even imagine.

“We’ll do something official in the coming weeks. But this evening is private. It will just be you, me and the priestesses. So there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

Nesta looked over at him. “Really? Just us?”

“Just us,” Eris confirmed. “I thought you might like it better that way. But we will have a little celebration afterward, if that’s okay. Just family. Emerie’s coming from Illyria, and Lucien, Elain and Helion from Day.”

She gave him a grateful look. “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you. I’m glad it’s not going to be some pompous fae spectacle.”

Eris hid another smile. He wondered if Nesta would ever stop speaking of fae as though she wasn’t one of them. Far from being offended, he found it quite charming. It was fascinating to see fae behavior and customs from her perspective. It often made him look at things he’d accepted unquestioningly in a new light.

Gwyn came out to antechamber, arrayed in her robes. She sat down beside Nesta. “Jako is ready for you now,” she said quietly. “Do you have any questions before we go in?”

“Is it too late to call it off?” Nesta muttered.

Gwyn gave her friend an indulgent smile. “I’m so happy you’re doing this, you know. It’s such a huge step for the women of Autumn. An important step. Come.” Brooking none of Nesta’s objections, she took her by the hand and led her into the inner sanctum.

Standing with Nesta, facing one another before the High Priestess, couldn’t fail to put Eris in mind of their wedding. The whole thing had felt surreal. When Nesta had agreed to come to Autumn, she’d made it clear that it was on a trial basis only and she was neither accepting Eris’s proposal nor making any promises of her own. She’d been surprised when he readily agreed to give her sanctuary despite these stipulations.

He’d soon realised why. She was less than one tenth his age, and yet Nesta’s trust had been betrayed enough to last several fae lifetimes. So he’d adjusted his expectations. If there was one thing that Eris understood, it was patience. It was when they both knew that the battle with Koschei was imminent that she’d come to him.

“Do you still want to marry me?” she’d asked, in her disarming, direct way.

“Yes,” he’d replied without hesitation.

“Will you do it without any fae nonsense?”

“Yes.” He’d do the ceremony naked and standing on one leg if that’s what she wanted.

“Then I’ll do it.”

Eris’s mouth had gone dry. “You’re saying yes? Why now?”

She’d shrugged. “Because of all you’ve done for me. Because who knows if we’ll even be alive in a week’s time. But mostly because I love you.”

“Why does this feel so much like a wedding?” Nesta was saying under her breath, reading his mind as always.

The High Priestess overhead despite her low tone, and chuckled. “Well, it is, in a way. Except instead of committing yourself to a person, you’re committing yourself to a whole court.”

“No pressure, then,” Nesta joked, but she looked a little wan.

“No, no pressure,” Jako replied. “If there is love in your heart for this court and its people, you will be a loyal and just High Lady.” She smiled down at Nesta. “Are you ready?”

Nesta swallowed, then nodded.

Despite the fact that these priestesses had never had cause to perform it before, the ritual was beautifully done. It began with a hymn to the Mother in an ancient fae tongue. “It asks her to bless you with her gifts,” Eris whispered to Nesta. “Unnecessary, really, as you’re already favoured by the Mother. But the power of High Lords is seen as being bestowed by The Cauldron, so when anointing a High Lady, the Mother’s blessing is sought. It provides a kind of balance, I suppose.”

“You understand this?” Nesta asked.

“The gist of it, not word for word. I’ve done some study of ancient languages.”

“Of course you have,” she said with a half smile.

The hymn was lovely. Performed with just voices, the majority of the priestesses carried a low chant – sung at a pitch that had to be deeper than their natural registers. This was accompanied by a high, sweet contrasting melody, performed by a handful of the most gifted vocalists among the priestesses, Gwyn included. She had explained to Eris and Nesta, when she talked them through the ritual, that the two songs, blended yet distinct, were supposed to represent the light of The Mother, weaving through the darkness as she created their world and everything in it.

When the hymn concluded, there was stillness for a few long minutes as the priestesses silently prayed. But the very stone of the chapel still seemed to vibrate with sound and energy.

The period of silent prayer came to an end. All the priestesses except for Gwyn and Jako slowly filed out, leaving just the four of them to complete the most sacred parts of the ritual.

The High Priestess stepped forward to read from a leather-bound tome, still in the same old language. Something about sacred duty and binding and union. Eris couldn’t remember what Gwyn had said about this part. But it didn’t seem to require anything of them other than to stand there and listen.

When the reading came to an end, Jako motioned them both forward and had them stand at either side of a large stone set into the floor of the chapel. It glowed pale blue, similar to the invoking stones the priestesses wore over their hoods. It sat at the center point of a mandala carved directly into the stone floor of the chapel.

Eris sucked in a few deep breaths. This was the only part of the ritual he didn’t feel entirely comfortable with. He looked into Nesta’s eyes – clear and unafraid, but limned with the silvery gleam that was always there when she was experiencing strong emotion. Gwyn stepped forward, Eris’s dagger in held out in both hands, palms up.

“That’s the knife you chose?”

“It could hardly be any other.”

The dagger was plain and unadorned, but it sang with power. Power ripped from the Cauldron itself, and imbued in the knife by its maker. Nesta Archeron. The dagger that had dispatched his father and made him High Lord. The dagger that had proved vital to Koschei’s defeat.

A little piece of the power of the Cauldron, in a ritual dedicated to the Mother.

Balance.

Eris nodded to Nesta. She exhaled slowly. Then she took the dagger from Gwyn.

Eris offered her his right palm. She hesitated for a moment, then drew the blade along it. The corners of her mouth tightened as blood welled from the wound.

She passed the knife to him, then held out her own hand. Eris held the blade to her palm, but could not make himself slice into her flesh.

“Hurry up and do it,” Nesta begged.

He closed his eyes, and pressed down on the knife. Nesta didn’t make a sound, but when he opened his eyes, blood pooled in her palm as well. They gripped their right hands together tightly. Jako nodded at Eris. He cleared his throat.

“With my heart’s blood as my vow, I make you High Lady. From this day, we rule as one. Two halves of a whole, united in power.”

Jako inclined her head toward Nesta.

“With my heart’s blood as my vow, I become High Lady. From this day, we rule as one. Two halves of a whole, united in power.”

Eris’s eyes met Nesta’s, still dancing with silver light. He loosened his grip on her hand, and they allowed their mingled blood to drip and anoint the sacred stone.

He looked toward Jako. As Gwyn had explained it, that completed the ritual. It was done. Nesta was his High Lady. He smiled at her.

But instead of smiling back, she gasped in shock. “Nesta? What’s the-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the words were drowned out by a roaring in his head. He felt lightning racing in his veins, and something cool and heavy swirl in his belly. It was exhilaration and pain, ecstasy and torment. It felt similar to when the High Lord powers had settled in him, but more alien. More intense and disorienting. He grabbed for Nesta and held her to him as the strange sensations began to subside.

“Nesta! Are you okay? Talk to me.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s just I- I didn’t know that was going to happen.” She rounded on Gwyn. “You didn’t tell me about that part!”

Gwyn blinked. “What part?”

“That I’d get some of Eris’s powers! That would have been useful information to have before I agreed to this.”

Gwyn looked at her blankly. “What? I didn’t know. You have his powers? How do you know?”

“Because I can feel it,” Nesta said, frowning. “I can feel it. The flame – it’s different to mine. It’s… warm.” She held her injured right hand out in front of her, and for a second, golden flame danced over her palm.

She looked up at Eris. “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t want to take your powers!” Nesta looked upset, almost… guilty?

“I didn’t know either,” he said. “Powers being transferred… I’ve only ever heard of that happening to mates.” He turned toward Jako. “What is this?”

The High Priestess looked thoughtful. “I don’t know anything about it, but this ritual hasn’t been performed in Autumn in living memory,” she said. “It’s possible that some of the detail has been lost to history.”

“Well, you taught her to master her powers,” Gwyn said chirpily, trying to dispel some of the tension. “Now you’ll just have to teach her to master yours as well. Here, take your knife back.” She held the dagger out to Eris, but Jako stayed her hand.

“But this is a Made object!” she said, looking at it closely for the first time.

“Yes,” Eris said. “The occasion seemed to demand something special.”

“May I?” Jako said, indicating the dagger.

“Of course.”

She held it up, examining it. “You know… this could be answer here,” she mused. “Or part of it, at least.”

“What do you mean?” Nesta asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Well, as the High Lord said – transference of powers is usually seen in association with a mating bond – that is, a bond between equals, ordained by the Cauldron,” the High Priestess said, turning the knife over in her hand. “But during the ritual, you effectively made yourselves equals – two halves of a whole, united in power – and sealed the pact with an object imbued with the power of the cauldron.”

Eris frowned. “Are you saying… that we’ve somehow created our own mating bond?”

“Not a mating bond exactly, but a powerful bond of some sort,” Jako said. “The funny thing is though, I’d have expected it to go both ways.”

“Both ways? How do you mean?”

“Well, for something of the High Lady to pass to you as well.”

Eris and Nesta exchanged glances. She stepped forward, staring intently at him. As he met her silvery gaze, Eris felt something in him shift in response.

Nesta turned to the High Priestess. “Can I have that knife for a moment?” Jako passed it to her silently.

She held the flat of the blade up to Eris’s face. “Look. Your eyes.”

He peered into the reflective surface. His eyes looked… normal? The blade was shiny, but not as clear as a looking glass. But his own amber eyes looked back at him, completely familiar. Except for just around the pupil, where there was a little ring of…

Silver.