Embers and Ashes

Chapter 11

(Dear Readers,

Hey there all my lovelies. Sorry I made you wait. Life is a bit on the hecktic side right now with work and stuff. I've taken every spare moment to keep on writing and here is a nice long chapter.

Just fair warning. This one does deal with a bit more of the darker side of things. Like Rhys taking Feyre darling to the Court of Nightmares. The things that the Vanserra boys are forced to do unless they want to face their father's wrath, and there will be some blood. Just a heads up. The ending is a bit sweeter though.

Hope you all enjoy.

Love,
Lady Thyme)

Melona

The next morning Eris was back sitting on my bed. Dressed for court with his curls straightened and slicked back. Everything about him sharper then any sword, and there was no more smile. His stony mask put back in it’s place.

   “Eris?”, I murmur worriedly.

   “We’ve been called to court”, he answers coldly.

   “Court? But I thought. . .”

   “I’m sorry but this will be your introduction”, his mask cracked for a moment. “I’m so sorry.”

   That worry in his voice making my stomach flip and crush. This was not going to be good at all.

   “Dress accordingly. I’ll meet you down stairs”, he glances away from me as if it hurt to look at me. 

   Pomona coming in as he passes into the hall. Carrying a dress and shoes to match. A grave look on her face as well as she has dressed crisply in her servant’s gown.

   “What’s happened Pomona?”, I ask as I slip from the bed. Moving to the vanity.

   “Nothing good M’Lady”, she murmurs with her head bowed.

   Without a word between us she does up my hair and helps me into the wheat gold dress with spiced orange oak leaves. Adding blush and lip stain. Until I looked like a autumn evening.

   I meet Eris down by the doors leading into the spiraling tunnels under the earth. He holds out his hand, and I hesitate to take it, but gently squeeze his hand as he takes a breath.

   We fall through the world and it comes back into view as the main palace. The throne room where Beron sat with a sneer as Niran stands on the red carpet leading to it. Tyren standing just out of arms reach along with the crowd of fae gathered. All finely dressed in such dramatic ways one would think that this was a party gathering. All golds and skirts with cages big enough to house large boars holding up their skirts.

   I feel underdressed.

   Yet, here no music played. No laughter or good cheer. The air was heavy and thick with silence that threatened to devour.

   “Eris”, Beron drawls. “Step forward.”

   He follows the order of his father without faltering, but gives Tyren a look that suggested that the two had some sort of agreement. Letting go of my hand he stands next to his younger brother. Bowing his head to not look his father in the eyes.

   “My good people”, Beron sneers. “We’re gathered here to discuss matters of court. The first order of business is that my son, Niran, has disobeyed the orders of his High Lord. Recently we have created a agreement with the Dawn Court to unite our peoples through marriage between my eldest and the darling of dawning. A precious union that will provide our lands with much good trade and recourses, so how am I to explain to the Dawning High Lord that I have gone back on my word for the safety of his beloved daughter because my son cannot keep his temper.”

   Niran doesn’t move. Doesn’t beg for forgiveness. Not out of being sorry for his actions, but because he knew there would be no mercy.

   “By our laws it is Eris’ right to have his payment. The threat to his bride, the prospect of our future to be so disrespected, must not be tolerated in my court. It will not”, Beron snarls at the two of them. A punishment to both of them for acting out of line. “We stand witness to fifty lashes.”

   The breath in my lungs turned to dust in my lungs and I couldn’t breath. Two guards stepping to hold Niran’s arms and strip away his shirt to expose his bare back. Her Ladyship standing next to her husband barely moved despite the desperate look in her eyes. No one made a move to stop this madness as Eris is handed the whip.

   I go to stop it. The protest crawling up my throat, but cut short by Tyren. The look of horror and pleading for me to stay silent. Grabbing my wrist to pull me back as I went to step forward. A whimper leaving my lips.

   “Turn away Melona”, he begs.
   But I didn’t. I watched every moment. Every breath taken. Every blow dealt. Every crack of the whip. Every drop of blood spilt. I watched.

   The first sent Niran to his knees hard enough to shatter them, but to his credit he did not scream. He kneelt and took every Ash tipped tail of that whip until his own blood was pooling under him. Strips of flesh loose and his skin paling. Not a single sound as Eris tore him to pieces with a ferocity and brutality that made my soul coil.

   It didn’t stop until the count of fifty. Eris throwing down the whip at his fathers feet with a sickly wet flop. Every last bit of control being put in to not snarl at his father.

   That disgusting smug grin on his fathers face boiled me. It made me angry. I couldn’t imagine how much it took not to kill that male in his sleep. Not to take that whip to him instead.

   Yes, I was mad at Niran for the attempt on Eris’ life. But I never wanted this. The pain and humiliation. I never wanted to do that. Not really. My threats are always empty unless in self defence or the defence of other. I would have killed him. Not take my time to make him live with this memory.

   “Melona”, Beron calls looking to where I stood with Tyren holding me firmly in place.

   “Step forward dear”, he coos. “I believe my son has something to say to you.”

  My legs feel like stone as I walk forward. Staying out of the blood on the carpet, but my back to the throne. Niran’s empty eyes looking up to where my eyes where.

   “I apologies for my insults”, his body shaking from the lack of blood and the energy it takes to stand.

   “You’re forgiven”, I say hoarsely from the tears lodged in my throat. My hands reaching out to cradle his cheeks, but at first he pulls away as if they were an iron brand. “Sh sh sh, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

   With no more fight left in him he let’s me take his face, and I let myself glow. Let my healing pass through me and into him. Stitching back together the strips of flesh. Sealing the scares and gently increase his healing fully until he can stand without swaying.

   After I open my eyes again Niran’s eyes are wild and confused along with the crowds. As if they could not understand my mercy even to someone like him.

   Eris on the other hand looked prideful. In a way I had healed him as well. No pain was left in his brother from the destruction he’d given.

   Beron was not so happy. A face of fury and rage greeted me when I turned to address him. Another reason for Eris’ pride. I had defined his father. I had fixed what he wanted to keep broken. I earned respect through kindness where he demanded it through fear.

   “I have witnessed the payment, and I will make sure that I explain the situation to my father. He will be understanding, I am certain”, I say loud enough for all to hear. Giving a half bow as I address him, “I thank you for addressing the situation so quickly My Lord.”

   My words seem to settle him. If only for the reason I would be in contact with my father, who would be controlling the trades. Earning me and the boys a dismissive wave of the hand. Niran quickly gathering himself and leaves the room quickly. Eris comes to my side and leads me back to where Tyren stand with a grim expression.

   “That was dangerous”, Tyren hisses. “Showing him that amount of power.”

   “You will refrain from using that tone with her”, Eris warns lowly. “Even if I do agree with you. You’re gifts make you valuable my dear, but also a threat.”

   “I don’t care”, I tell both of them firmly. “I am not letting him taint who I am. I’m not going to let him use me against these people. Even if they are lil’ shits.”

    “Easier said then done”, Eris grunts looking down at his hands that are stained in his brothers blood.

   I take his hand and place a kiss to it to get him out from the dark depths of his mind, “It’s the hard battles that are worth fighting.”

   “How true”, Eris purrs whole he draws the backs of his fingers over my cheek. Whipping away tears I didn’t realize I had shed off and streaking blood their. The touch making me shiver as I watch those eyes. Burning but as cold as a serpents. My serpent.

   I let myself trill and coo softly for him. An ancient sound that made his brain snap as instinct takes over and his arm pulls me close. His forehead to mine as he shields me from the world. “I think. . . I think you’re the kind of female males go to war for.”

   “Good Mother I hope not”, I grumble. “. . . Promise me only if your father tries to create problems.”

   “I’m not promising shit”, that cocky grin peeking through, and for the rest of the time at court Eris kept me as far from the crowds groping eyes as possible.

~

   It was dark by the time we winnowed back into the main entrance of our quiet manor. The two of us completely ready to be done with this day. I go to walk away from his side but his hand in my holds tighter.

  “You. . . You aren’t afraid of me?”, he asks quietly. Sorrow and worry in his tone.

   I pause and look at our hands. How perfectly they fit together. Remembering how he had guarded me the whole day. Even snarling at a few of the young and ballsy courts men who tried to look for too long. Stared down the male who raised him to kill and torcher when his attention lingered for longer then a moment. Even when his father smirked tauntingly. Promising Eris that it didn’t matter how much he tried to protect me, that he could do whatever he wanted to me, and Eris couldn’t do anything to stop him.

   “No”, I murmur. “I’m not afraid of you. . . But I am afraid of Beron. I will admit that much.”

   “If he wants this alliance between our courts to work then he cannot risk harming you”, he snarls. “And even if he tried. . . At this point I don’t think I’d let him.”

   “I’ll be more trouble then it’s worth”, I shake my head.

   “Maybe”, Eris hums. “Maybe he’ll tare me to shreds. Maybe he’ll kill you like he did Jesminda. Maybe Niran will hold me back as they make it a painful gory end that I’ll have to live through for the rest of my long existence. I think that that price will be worth it. Having someone I can trust, and maybe someday love.”

   My breath catches in my throat at what he is offering me. Letting down that wall. Letting me see behind that mask. Letting me have a place in his life.

   “You really think I’m worth it?”, I ask shakily. Is it wrong? How quickly we’ve grown in these few days.

   “Yes”, he smiles sadly. “I think you might just be.”

   For the rest of that night we had each gone to our rooms to change. Eris only a few minutes later coming back to my room so we can share a meal of hot soup and spiced tea. Relaxed by the fire and just enjoying each other’s company.

   “I’ve been reading the books you’ve left me”, I chime trying to fight back the darkness of the day that didn’t seem to quiet leave us.

   “Any favourites so far?”, he asks with an amused smile.

   “By far the one about the village girl who was sold to the troll king, then had to go on this whole adventure to save him from his crazy troll aunt”, I grin.

   “Of course”, he chuckles.

   “And the one about that robber who steels from the rich to give to the poor”, I add.

   “That was a childhood favourite. Mother would read that to me for hours”, he smiles fondly at the memories. All I could think about was this wild fiery little boy trying to live up to his hero’s name. No wonder his father hated his wife’s influencing his son with the ideals to care for lesser folk. To let his mischief grow into something crafty but useful. Oh the trouble he would have gotten into.

   “What are you smiling at me like that foe?”, he glares playfully.

  “Trying to create an image of what you were like as a child”, I grin and he laughs. Dragging a hand through his skill slicked back hair.

   “I was an ‘imp child’ as my governesses would say. All clever and trouble. Getting into trouble”, he smirks. “I was such a brat. Did you know I went through fifteen tutors from age five to eight alone.”

   “What in the good Mother’s name did you do?”, my eyes no doubt as wide as the moon hanging in the inky black outside.

   “Oh I had all these good ideas for each red faced, fat, teacher”, there’s something wicked flaming in his eyes now. Seer feral joy. “I once set one’s entire room on fire.”

   “By accident or on purpose?”, I ask.

   “I never go anything without a purpose”, he cackles.

   “Is that so?”, I laugh softly with him and shake my head. “Goodness, there must be so many stories.”

   “A few good ones yes”, he nods fondly.

   “Truths for truths?”, I offer and he looks at me for a long time.

   “Truths for turths”, he agrees and smiles eagerly. “I’ve already given you one, now it’s your turn.”

   “Oh dear, childhood mischief”, I try to think. “I was a very quiet child.”

   “Those are the kind that know how to get away with thing”, he purrs and gives me a disbelieving look that I never got into trouble.

   “Well, I do remember always sneaking out at the crack of dawn to go explore the city around the palace. Once I had managed to out run my fathers guards that he had sent to find me for three whole days”, I smirk. “I was grounded for a month, but it was worth it.”

  “Clever little creature you”, he hums softly. “Well, maybe I should make a day of taking you to the villages in my territory so that I wont have you sneaking off.”

   “Maybe you should”, I beam.

   “How about tomorrow?”, he offers.

   “Yes!”, I gush. “Yes yes yes yes! Get me out of this house.”

   “Certainly”, he nods and looks back to the fire. “. . . Did you get to the part where the thief get’s caught?”

   “You Bugger! He get’s caught?!”, I gasp at this information and race over to get the book. “When does this happen? I’m not even half way through it. Dam it!”

   Still smirking like the serpent he his he holds out his hand for the book. “Calm down dearest and sit on down.”

   Eagerly I rush back on over to my chair. Pulling thick throw blankets around me as a decorated box of ginger cookies and cups on warm milk appear in exchange for our finished dinner. Eris laughing softly at the worry no doubt in my eyes.

   Then he began to read. His voice still sharp but smooth and delicate. Like a sowing needle gliding through fabric with ease. A tool of creating lush comfort, and it was this wonderful sound that I listened to as they weave through the story. It was the sound that guided me into sleep.