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Feyre hummed to herself quietly as she and Cassian flew side by side through the cool morning air. The two had winnowed to Winter Court before deciding to shake the rust off of Feyre's old wings, as Cassian had declared enthusiastically.
They were traveling to Summer Court to meet with Tarquin. Rhysand was already there with Azriel and Mor, Lucien was on his way, and Feyre had been too scared to ask Amren about her traveling schedule in case she got snapped at.
Feyre was thrown out of her thoughts when she heard distant arguing and the clashing of steel from far below. “Stop.” She hissed at Cassian, clutching his arm. They were directly over the Summer and Autumn barrier.
If there was trouble, Beron could be plotting on the horizon.
Beating her wings to remain hovering in the air, Feyre scanned the ground.
“There.” Cassian grunted, pointing out a pair of fae far below.
The males danced around each other, metal and steel flashing as the sun bounced off their blades. One occasion one would shout out, yelling in some sort of argument Feyre was not close enough to hear even with enhanced hearing.
“Should we intervene?” Cassian asked with a grin. “I could use the exercise.” He flexed the arm Feyre was holding onto, and Feyre rolled her eyes.
“No. Just follow me. Quietly, you loud mouthed fool.” Feyre teased.
Probably just to spite her, Cassian chuckled far more loudly than necessary. Grabbing onto Cassian, Feyre winnowed then into a nearby treetop.
Cassian grunted as he lost his balance, and Feyre had to grab onto the scruff of his shirt. “Overgrown bat.” Feyre deadpanned.
Cassian opened his mouth, and Feyre shushed him with a smirk. She turned her attention to the pair of males, and almost fell out of the tree top. She could hear Cassian inhale sharply besides her as he came to the same realization.
Eris and Lucien Vanserra were the males circling each other on the border of Autumn. Both were breathing heavily, Eris armed with a sword and Lucien clutching a dagger in each fist.
“You-” Lucien heaved between blocking Eris's blows. “Don't understand.”
Eris dropped to the ground, attempting to sweep Lucien's feet out from under him. The younger male danced out of the way, jumping clean over Eris's head. “I understand that you are being an overly soft idiot, just as you have always been.”
Feyre leaned forward to intervene, but Cassian put an arm across her chest. “They aren't going for the kill.” He whispered gruffly.
Feyre paused, then nodded. They could see where this goes. She could always intervene. She ignored the guilt in her gut over leaving her old friend to fend for himself. Why the hell was Lucien here with Eris of all people?
Lucien rolled his eyes as Eris smoothly recovered his footing and raised his daggers to match blow after blow from his sword. For a moment they just spared before Lucien made a frustrated noise and threw both daggers, embedding them in a nearby tree.
“If you were attempting to hit me, you need to work on your aim.” Eris commented lazily with a raised eyebrow.
“It burns, Eris.” Lucien said roughly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Some days I wonder if I will wake up as nothing more than a pile of ash.”
“So court her. You haven't even tried.” Eris said coldly, sheathing his sword.
Feyre froze. They were talking about Elain. About the mating bond. Why, cauldron boil him, was Lucien talking to Eris about Elain. Anger flared in her gut, but she just clenched her jaw and stayed silent.
“She wants to fuck the shadowsinger.” Lucien responded bitterly. “I will not force myself upon her. Quite frankly, everyone in that precious Inner Circle seems to forget that I never asked for this either. She is a stranger to me.” Lucien explained, pacing frantically. “I wished to get to know her, but she would rather have another male.”
Feyre winced. Cassian stiffened besides her.
“You have to try.” Eris ordered sharply. “You have no other options. I don't care if you love her or not-”
Lucien cut him off with a wave of his hand. “There is no fixing this, Eris. I have considered everything. If I court her, she will only push further away. If I ignore it, it's only a matter of time before she rejects the mating bond and I go mad. If I reject it, I may go mad either way!” Lucien laughed, a wild glint in his eyes.
Feyre could see how disheveled he looked even from a distance. Purple smudges that looked more like bruises hung under the male's eyes. He held himself strangely, as if he had been injured. His hair was falling in whisps out of his normally pristine braid, tangled and frizzy.
“Ah yes. The invisible sword of madness.” Eris muttered, a dry amusement in his voice.
“I need you to make some promises.” Lucien said, a desperate edge to his voice. “Please, Eris.” His voice cracked at the end, and he slumped to the ground.
Eris shrugged noncommittally. “Depends. What do you require?” He studied his sword, pulling a rag out from his pocket to clean the blade.
“If I go mad, you have to keep Spring together. You know father wants the territory for himself. You know that if Spring falls-” Lucien rambled, head in his hands.
“Spring has already fallen. Your dearest friend Feyre already ensured that.” Eris snarled softly.
“Spring has not fallen, and she is far from my friend.” Lucien muttered quietly, almost to himself. Feyre felt like a knife was twisting in her heart, anger blazing along with it. How long had Lucien been working with Eris? For Spring?
Eris scoffed. “Yet you slave away for her precious Night Court.” He sheathed his blade, turning his full attention to his younger brother.
“As if you don't as well.” Lucien snarked. “You know that I'm the only thing holding Spring together. If I fall, whatever is left of it will crash and burn. I have plans, trade agreements, rebuilding, everything. I just need you to help the contacts we discussed implement it if something were to happen to me.”
Eris rolled his eyes, slowly sinking to the ground beside his brother. “The beast certainly won't.”
Lucien drew his knees into his chest, resting his chin on his folded arms. “Don't call him that.” He said weakly, as if they had this argument before and he had grown tired of it.
“Have you been using the salve?” Eris asked boredly, but a glimmer of something Feyre could not detect glimmered across his face for the first time.
Lucien nodded wordlessly.
“Well then, let me see.” Eris snapped impatiently, ask if it should be obvious.
Feyre's mind was racing. She had to tell Rhysand. Lucien had plans for Spring, who knows when he planned to betray them and spill their Court secrets to get ahead.
Lucien sighed, eyes tired. Tenderly, he pulled his shirt off.
The world seemed to fall out from under Feyre. Cassian inhaled sharply beside her.
Claw marks, wicked and messy and cruel, ran in jagged red lines across the front of Lucien's ribcage. Some were older, scarred over and replaced with fresh bright red wounds. The marks were so animal, so malicious.
Tamlin.
Lucien didn't meet Eris's eyes, and Feyre could almost feel the embarrassment and shame coming off him in waves.
Eris raised an eyebrow at the marks. “The salve has been helping. Do you need more?”
Lucien nodded, carefully pulling his shirt back over his head with a small hiss Feyre could barely hear. Eris pulled a small bottle out of his pocket, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “And you don't want me to call him a beast.” Eris snorted, any sign of worry disappearing.
“Don't tell me I don't have to go back.” Lucien said, whispers becoming fierce.
“I won't. I, as much as you like to ignore it, have a brain. I know the value of Spring.” Eris responded, with one eyebrow raised. “However, if you inform me of the next time you have to return to Spring I could arrange a disturbance at the borders. Tamlin would be occupied for a brief period of time.” The elder brother offered boredly.
Lucien hesitated. Feyre felt the world spin around her, a distant hand on her shoulder.
Eris sighed, an almost imperceptible motion. “Send me a letter containing the date. Preferably soon. I do have a schedule to keep.”
“Licking father's boots.” Lucien said, the corner of his mouth twisting into a smirk.
Eris shrugged. “They are rather shiny. I do a wonderful job at it.”
“Feyre. Feyre, are you okay?”
Feyre blinked, realizing Cassian was behind her. It was his hand on her shoulder. Feyre just shook her head over and over again. Cassian opened his mouth to say something, but Feyre shushed him. She had to know. She had to understand.
“My other request,” Lucien began, tensing his jaw as if sterling himself. “Is that if I do go mad, you will kill me.”
Somewhere in the forest, a bird stopped singing.
“No.” Eris snapped.
“We both know that madness, falling into instincts into magic, is not an option for me.” Lucien snarled back. “Use that brain you claim is in your head.” Lucien gestured wildly.
“I won't kill you.” Eris growled back, hand on his sword.
“Oh, you'll just stab me instead?” Lucien asked, rolling his eyes as they both stood up. “If I go mad, mother is as good as dead. Elain-”
Eris let go of the blade with a frustrated grunt. “Just fucking court her! Do whatever it takes to survive this Lucien, you must-”
“Just because you have lived your entire life only trying to survive does not mean I follow the same path!” Lucien shouted. “At this point, death is waiting with fucking open arms.” He muttered, more quietly. “I have more dead friends than alive.”
“Don't talk like that.” Eris growled. “Even before you lost an eye you were always half blind. You have a brother who is fucking alive and well and would like his future Emissary sane and mostly intact.”
For a moment, they glared at each other. Feyre tensed with them, and could feel Cassian readying his wings besides her. Then Lucien shrugged, barely perceptible. Eris sighed.
Lucien looked like he was trying not to smile. “Well this has been fun.” The tension broke in an instant.
Eris took a deep breath, shoulders relaxing. “I will check the Forest House for text on breaking the mating bond safely.”
Lucien nodded. “I shall try, hmm let's see, every other Court.” He hummed smugly.
Eris rolled his eyes. “Show off.”
“Prick.” Lucien extended a hand. Eris clutched his forearm for a moment, leaning in and whispering something Feyre couldn't hear but made Lucien burst into laughter. Eris just rolled his eyes when Lucien clutched his side with a stuffed groan.
Lucien rightened himself. “I must be going. Winnowing has been miserable lately.” Lucien said with a half sigh.
“Summer Court?” Eris asked, his tone returning to its usual bored amusement.
“Yes. Honestly I'm not even sure what this meeting is about. Rhysands communication is horrendous.” Lucien said with an eye roll.
“The tragedy.” Eris deadpanned.
“So long, brother.” Lucien smiled tightly.
“Farewell.” Eris was gone in a flash of flames, leaving Lucien alone for a moment.
Lucien brought one hand up to his ribcage, inhaling deeply. Once. Twice. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and disappeared with a wince.
“Feyre.” Cassian said softly. “What- What would you like to do?”
Thoughts raced through Feyre's head at a million miles an hour. Lucien, the traitor. Lucien, scarred beyond belief by Tamlin. Lucien, conspiring with Eris. Lucien, taunted by madness. Lucien, begging for death.
Feyre had known Lucien was going back to Spring. She was more than familiar with Tamlin's anger, with the bruises Lucien sometimes returned to the Night Court with. But she had turned a blind eye, both to the hurt and potential betrayal of her first fae friend.
Suddenly, a gasp echoed through the forest. Lucien reappeared, crumpling to the ground with a wheeze. “Shit.” The male lifted up his shirt, which was quickly turning from white to a blood soaked maroon. The scars had reopened, blood pouring from the jagged marks at a concerning rate.
“Feyre.” Cassian's voice rumbled in her ear. “What do you want to do?”
Feyre hesitated. “We can't just leave him here.” She whispered. “Maybe- maybe we can get some answers. Why he's working with Eris, how long.”
Rhysand would have told her about this. About Lucien working with Spring, if it was truly in the name of the Night Court. Lucien clearly was planning to bring Spring back to its former glory, with talks of rebuilding. But what did Eris have to do with any of it?
Cassian nodded. “I'll circle around back. He can't winnow, but he's always pretty skittish. He might try and run.” With that, Cassian beat his wings, flying just within the canopy to make it nearly impossible to see him.
Lucien hadn't moved from his spot on the forest floor. Feyre watched, slowly descending the tree, and Lucien pressed the palm of his hand against the injury. The male squeezed his eyes shut, panting as his hand began to glow.
Not with flames, but with light. Feyre went still. This was the confirmation of her theory, she had been right. Lucien was no son of Autumn. In her shock, her foot slipped off the branch she had been lowering herself onto and she went tumbling to the ground with a loud thud.
Lucien's eyes flew open. “Eris?” He whispered sharply, the light quickly disappearing from his hand. “Eris, cut the bullshit.” Lucien's voice was tinted with panic now.
Regaining her composure, Feyre stepped out from the trees. “Lucien.”
The Autumn males eyes flashed. “Feyre.” Lucien's metallic eye whirled. “You're supposed to be in Summer.” He said carefully, clearly trying to judge how much she had heard.
“I heard everything, Lucien.” Feyre said coldly. “So don't bother pretending.”
Suddenly Feyre was back in Spring. Watching Lucien cling to Tamlin, turn away from Feyre's suffering. Pretending like everything was fine. Working with Hybren. Had he ever considered them friends?
Lucien sighed, exasperation mixed with pain. “What are you talking about, Fey? What are you even doing here?” He was shifting as he spoke, rising from sprawled on the ground to crouched.
Ready to run.
“Stop lying to me, Lucien.” Feyre glared. “How long have you been working behind our backs?” Feyre tilted her head, magic flaring slightly.
Lucien's eyebrows furrowed. “Our? Don't tell me you brought a team to ogle at me in such a wonderful state.” He laughed dryly. The Autumn males eyes were shifting now, scanning the treeline above Feyre.
Feyre stepped further into the clearing, chin raised. “How long have you been working for Eris and Tamlin?” She asked, every inch the High Lady as she sent the full strength of her magic into the demand.
She watched as Lucien's spine stiffened, like a puppet string suddenly snapping into place. But he didn't open his mouth, didn't cave to the order of his High Lady. “Answer me.” Feyre could taste the metallic tint in the air, could see the shadows darken in the forest.
Lucien just tilted his head. “Feyre. There's been a misunderstanding. I serve you. I serve the Night Court. Rhysand has given me assignments in Spring, but I do not work for Tamlin.” The unspoken anymore hung in the air between them.
Feyre studied her nails, the mask of the unyielding, powerful High Lady from the Court of Nightmares slipping into place. “That's not what it sounded like, when you were scheming with your brother about bringing Spring Court into power.” She let the accusation ring through the air, sickly sweet, dangerous. “You didn't exactly keep your disdain towards me a secret after I escaped that hellhole. Now you want to bring Tamlin back to power? After everything?” The hurt leaked into her voice, no matter how she tried to hide it.
“Feyre.” Lucien said, holding a hand up. He was trying to placate her, trying to brush her off. “I'm not trying to bring Spring Court to power, whatever that means. I'm trying to keep it from collapsing, check with Rhysand, he-”
“After all this time.” Feyre laughed quietly, almost to herself. “Rhysand. I don't know the last time you've called him Rhys. Although I suppose we aren't friends, are we? After I escaped from your best friend's clutches.” Feyres eyes glimmered like stars in the night. “What have you told Eris about our court.”
“Nothing.” Lucien was looking pale now, blood loss or fear. Feyre didn't care either way. “I'm not a fucking traitor, Feyre. Ask Rhysand about Spring. It is not my fault that he doesn't tell you anything about your own goddamn Court-”
“Careful, fireling.” A deep voice boomed from the forest. “You can't afford to lose anymore blood.” Cassian stepped out of the shadows, and Lucien went perfectly still.
“If you aren't telling Eris anything about the Court, then why does he know about Elain?” Feyre pushed, even though Lucien didn't take his eyes off Cassian approaching him from behind.
Lucien's eyes flickered to Feyre. “Because I wanted him to be ready when she rejects the bond.”
Cassian scoffed, siphons flashing. “Ready for what?”
Lucien whipped his head around, snapping. “For the madness that comes with, you brute.” His eyes flashed with something more like exasperation than rage.
Suddenly there was a soft laugh behind her, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
Feyre jumped, whirling around and coming face to face with Eris. “High Lady.” He greeted with a smirk. He looked her up and down with a feline grace. “Whatever are you doing in my forest?”
Cassian lunged forward, but Feyre held up a single hand. “No need.” She said smoothly. “He couldn't hurt me if he tried.” Feyre raised her chin, unwavering.
Eris tilted his head. “Is that a challenge?” He nearly purred.
“It could be.” Feyre said lightly, but let her the power of her magic fill the air between them. “If you don't mind one of your brothers having to take over your position.” Eris laughed at that, sounding more delighted with the challenge than scared. He would learn. He would be far from the first male to underestimate her.
“It certainly wouldn't be this one.” Cassian threatened, arms crossed. Eris looked from Cassian to Lucien and back again, and then shrugged.
The prince looked unworried. “Shall we clear this up, High Lady? My brother will stay with the brute, and you and I can have a more private conversation.” Eris smirked.
Feyre's mind whirled. Would Lucien be enough leverage to keep Eris from trying anything? They were clearly working together.
Cassian leveled a glare at the Autumn heir. “If the High Lady is harmed in any way.” He gestures a sweeping hand at Lucien. “He dies, then you.”
“How clever.” Eris applauded tauntingly, clapping his hands together slowly. “I'm glad you're following the whole hostage plot. Perhaps you've even learned to read. High Lady?” Eris offered Feyre an arm.
“Stay here, Cassian.” Feyre ordered, before brushing past Eris and marching away from the clearing.
Eris barked a laugh, unfazed. After a few minutes of walking, Feyre stopped. “What is it that you want to say, Eris?”
“Straight to the point, I like you better than Rhysand.” Eris nodded, that bored smirk never wavering. “I am here to tell you the truth that you have already overheard, clearly, but do not wish to listen to.”
“What does that mean.” Feyre snapped heatedly. “Don't waste my time, Eris.”
“Lucien does not work for me, or Tamlin for that matter. He works for you, which is unfortunate for him because it involves working with all of the aforementioned.” Eris ran a hand through his hair, despite it being perfectly placed. “Rhysand’s orders, if I'm not mistaken. And, I am not.” The bored amusement shifted into coldness, a chilling confidence.
“What do you have to do with Spring, then?” Feyre demanded. This wasn't helping. She should be bringing Lucien to Azriel, not wasting time playing Autumn Court games. What if Eris planned to do something to Elain, since he had been pushing for Lucien to court her?
“Nothing, obviously.” Eris deadpanned. “My brother was making requests for after your sister gets him killed. I may or may not follow through, depends on my mood.” He smirked at her, as if they had shared a joke.
Feyre growled, instinct flaring. “My sister has nothing to do with this.”
Feyre could have sworn the temperature in the air around them increased. “Oh, she doesn't? So she doesn't have him trapped in a mating bond, the longer which it is in place the more likely he is to go mad when she finally rejects it?” Eris glared, fire blazing in his eyes.
“She- it is her choice what she does with the bond. What is with you and your family thinking you can walk into a room and demand everything? That we all owe you something?” Feyre bristled, her calm fading as Eris provoked her.
Eris grinned sharply, clearing enjoying her lack of composure. “She could break the bond with the appropriate precautions and free them both from this misery. For a female who supposedly hates the bond so much, she certainly likes keeping it intact. Or is it Rhysand who enjoys holding it over Lucien?”
“Careful, Eris. Do not speak poorly of my mate. Your father might come to find a mess to be cleaned up.” Feyre warned lowly. “He isn't holding anything over Lucien, which is why he is clearly betraying us.”
“I see you've been taking notes from the Illyrians.” Eris studied her. “Did you see the salve I gave Lucien?”
Feyre nodded despite herself.
“Oh good, some of your senses do work.” Eris quipped. Feyre rolled her eyes. She debated leaving, but curiosity ate away at her.
“Lucien requires it due to his visits to Spring. That Rhysand enforces. Lucien was here, speaking with me, because I am the only one with access to an ointment that can heal the marks from a High Lord that he can ask without it being held over his head.” Eris shrugged, lips twitching upwards. “Mostly.”
“Lucien and Tamlin are-were friends.” Feyre dismissed with a glare. “What are you even saying.”
“So were you and my brother, and now you leave him bleeding out in the Court he hates, while you accuse him of betraying you instead of using your powers to ask your mate for answers Lucien had already given you.” Eris accused. “Do not pretend that you do not know Tamlin. Don't pretend you haven't caused some of it.”
Feyre stiffened. “Stop. You don't know what I went through-”
“You are right, High Lady.” Eris conceded. “But you don't care to know what he did and does on you and your sisters behalf and behest. You are many things Feyre, but dumb is not one of them. Rhysand is leaving you in the dark.” Eris took a deep breath, a strange light in his eyes. “My brother has been known to be a light, use it.” Eris turned on his heel, walking off.
Feyre stood open mouthed- shock and anger mixing. A light. Lucien. Day. Her eyes widened with realization. “You knew.” Feyre accused, half shouting after him.
“Always have, High Lady.” Eris turned with a flourish and bowed. “Now go patch up my brother and wrangle your role back from Rhysand.” His voice turned as close to sincere as Feyre had ever heard the fox speak. “Do not end up like my mother.” With a flash of fire, he was gone.
Feyre's next words died on her lips, ready to be screamed at the eldest Vanserra. Rhysand was nothing like Beron. Nothing like Tamlin.
And yet.
Feyre had almost killed Lucien because Rhys kept her uninformed. Had gotten more information about Spring from Eris now then she'd had in three years from Rhys. Had not known about the length of the mating bonds existence, left unbroken but unaccepted, causing more harm to Lucien.
Lucien.
She had known. About Tamlin, about the scars and bruises Lucien showed up with. But Feyre had ignored them, had assumed Lucien was wishing it upon himself by going back there. But he had been ordered, by the Night Court. By her.
Lucien had been planning to die.
Slowly, Feyre turned. Feyre would not be in the dark anymore. Feyre would walk towards the light, and she would make change.
She and Lucien were going to go have a long talk with Rhysand.
“I want to talk with the Inner Circle. As soon as possible.” Feyre said firmly.
“May be difficult to do that with Lucien at the meeting.” Cassian mused.
Feyre glared. “We will figure it out.” She snapped, a little harshly. She shot Cassian an apologetic look which he returned with a sympathetic nod.
They would figure it out. They had to.
“Things are going to change. Now.”