Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Velaris was beautiful.

Reverie Archeron thinks it doesn’t matter how long passes she will always find the city breathtaking. More often than she allows herself, she’s wonder what would have been like to grow up in the bustling and colorful streets. How joyful things probably would have been.

But she didn’t, thankfully Nyx will grow up roaming through the streets and the shops, with a house big enough for the whole family to have their rooms and then some spare ones. A warm fireplace on cold days alongside warm wool blankets. Food for whenever he feels hungry. And love.

Love of a mother and a father.

Love from his aunts and uncles.

Feyre is giving her son the childhood they dreamed about.

Life in the mortal lands was never easy. Specially with Father acting the way he did. Most times things would be harder than usual. 

Feyre would go out in the woods to hunt. She would scrub floors, and cook full meals on a empty stomach for a few measly pennies so she could buy the bare minimum to keep them alive.

If that version of her could se herself now she would probably cry.

For yes, she technically had died. She had been thrown into the cauldron and it’s water she had been taken apart and remade.

Into High Fae.

The slender and statuesque people that she didn’t fit in with. Because the Calderon had left it’s mark on her sisters by giving them magic. In her case, it stole her coloring. Her hair became as white as snow. Like the light brown had been a watercolor her whole life and the second the water took ahold of it. It completely vanished.

And she would probably also cry over the fact she didn’t have to count money, and overwork herself, that they had a warm fireplace, a family overflowing with care and love. A bedroom all for herself, a sprawling bookshelf that tended to grow as Feyre’s inner circle and Nesta’s Valkyries gave her as presents, she had more clothes than she felt like she needed and notebooks to write as she pleased.

Still, the darkness lingered. She had nightmares, night terrors, awful ones. Melting memories and what if, and fears. The war that was approaching, Kochei’s presence lurking did little to calm her heart. Although Elain hadn’t seen anything yet, and both Nesta and Feyre still seemed calm.

So she focused on helping Feyre with Nyx, and the Priestess with some of the young kids in the city, trying to make herself useful.

“Ria?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. What did you say?” Reverie says turning to her sister with a small smile, her eyes moving away from the window

“I asked if you’d like to go to the High Lord’s meeting at Winter with the rest of us.” Feyre says.

“Oh?” Reverie can’t help the surprise in her features. “Well if that isn't be too much of a problem.”

“it’s settled then.”

Little did Reverie know that the meeting would change everything.

…

“There’s more chairs than usual.” She hears Gwyn whisper to Azriel.

The only court present so far is Night.

“Lucien,” Rhysand voice comes.

“No idea.” Lucien says from beside Elain.

It’s like a siren song, the symbol that has been on her dreams for years now. She moves slightly, eying the symbol on the chair. Second later there’s a wave of magic coming from outside the castle — she feels like she should know from who but she doesn’t.

Golden eyes lose focus slightly and she feels her knees giving out and Nesta’s arms are around her.

Everything is muffled. Her ears are ringing.

Something is wrong. Something is off.

It’s like a thousand and one emotions are running through her at the same moment. She raises a hand pressing it against her chest.

Gods, what’s wrong with her?

‘Reverie breathe, you need to breathe.’ Feyre’s voice echoed in her head and she feels her presence.

She is breathing isn’t she? Gods feels like someone is trying to break her rib cage.

“She’s shutting down.” Reverie hears Elain’s voice through the muffled noise that seems to be over her ears.

But then all the sound vanishes overtaken by another one completely.

She can hear laugher, her own laugher, feel a kiss being planted on her cheek, someone hugging her, the sound of a baby cooing, the scent of the sea, wind moving through her white curls.

She has the vague awareness of more magic entering the room but then her awareness completely slips away from her.

But something comes alive in her chest, something that seems to wrap around her heart, caress her soul, as if to say.

I’m here.

Chapter Text

Raised in a court that was cut off from the outside world by over 700 years when he was born Ophiuchus always had a certain longing on learning what was outside the barrier that marked the end of the territory he was to be the High Lord off.

His mother often chastised him when he would try to push against the barrier. He was but a kid and many had tried, their best scholars, warrior but to no avail.

‘Maybe there’s a reason why it’s there Ophi.’ She would say.

His grandfather had been worried that the barrier would somehow destroy those inside but it didn’t. So the court moved on.

Day to day life continued.

Shortly after Ophiuchus’ birthday it came down, out of nowhere and everyone while curious were simultaneously wary, specially considering the silent sickness that had taken a lot of citizens including Ophiuchus’ grandfather and mother.

As High Lord he sprung into action, if they were still there, the other courts that is, a High Lord meeting was very much a pressing matter. He needed to know the outside and who to align himself with.

And since his grandmother had been from the winter court, it’s high lord was the one who received his letter.

Kallias — Ophiuchus would learn the other male name when his response came — was quick to tell him what had happened since the dome fell around Dusk.

Tales of a greedy ruthless female, of curses and traps and backstabbing and magic and a so called King with his treachery, only like those Ophiuchus had come across in the old scripts.

Sisters made Fae by the Calderon and from the power of the High Lords.

And now, a so called God and more curses.

And by end an invitation, to go to Winter Court, as he would take upon himself hosting.

“You’re going then?” Ophiuchus turned towards his cousin, Ayla.

“I feel like it’s for the best if I do. Silas and Elia agree.”

“Silas and Elia do agree on the matter of the High Lord going. I’m asking you, are you going there for yourself or that is something along the fact of the dreams you been having?”

Her comment makes him look at her in slight surprise.

“You’re rather easy to read, cousin, I’ve know you my whole life,” Ayla says with a small smile, “you believe you will find her there, don’t you?”

“Maybe. I do not know.”

“You always tended to be drawn to the barrier no matter when. Aunt Althea always had to keep you from pressing further into it.”

“I do recall that.” Ophiuchus says with a sigh before allowing himself to sit at the chair of his office, eyes drifting to the city.

The capital of Dusk curt, Euryphaessa sat by the coastal side, and sprawling into the large mountain where the Castle and a lot of houses stood.

“There’s also the fact if she will even wish to come here.” Ophiuchus says, eyes still overlooking the city. “We are probably but a myth, a bed time story. Many probably don’t even know of our existence.”

“Mating bonds are cherished no matter what the court, my dear cousin. No matter what subculture they are raised in. Your mate will know of the responsibilities you hold.” Ayla says softly in a comforting tone.

“I can only hope you’re right, Ayla.” Ophiuchus sighs, fidgeting with the ring he was given eons ago by his mother.

A golden stone that looked odd even by the standards of all the unique colored stones they had at dawn.

“Are you coming with?” He asks after a large beat of silence that befalls the two both lost in their heads.

“Do I seem like I’m passing up going and seeing another court? No way.” Ayla says, before she moves, squeezing, Ophiuchus shoulder, “I shall tell the others.”

Chapter Text

Darius had started complaining before they even left. Not that Ophiuchus expected different. But Ayla did look seconds away from murdering their cousin and Silas looked like he was considering throwing his mate at the lake by the place they’d winnow from.

“Darius?” Elia calls, cutting him off as he complained about the fact that it was probably going to be too cold… and the winter court.

“Yes?”

“We will leave you behind.” Elia all but snaps at him, “stop acting like a child, by the Mother sake.”

“I’m not-“

“You are love.” Silas says, giving him a pointed look. “Please do not aggravate Elia.”

“Your twin sister is the one aggravating me.” Darius says in a offended tone.

“You’re aggravating each other. And all of us.” Ayla cuts the possible back and forth between the couple, from her place beside Elia and Daphne. “Where are the others?”

“Only Taran is coming besides us.” Ophiuchus says. “Solana and Blake are staying to oversee a few things and considering Regina’s pregnancy, Sirius though it was better to stay here.”

“And I’m here.” Taran says, entering the room.

“Let’s gets this over with.” Ophiuchus says before winnowing all of them.

….

The drastic shock of temperature definitely signaled that they had arrived at the Winter Court.

Their surroundings changed to a beautiful taiga covered by snow. They could see a large palace a bit distant but close enough that it was probably only a five minute walk.

The air bustling with magic.

“Mhm…,” Daphne says, “very pretty.”

“A lot of magic too.” Silas adds, as he looks around. “Think we are the last ones to arrive?”

“Quite the opposite, you’re one of the early ones.” A pale male, with platinum blonde hair and wearing light blue robes says, “Welcome to the Winter Court.”

“Lord Kallias.” Ophiuchus greets giving him a nod.

“Lord Ophiuchus.” Kallias greets, and then in given a slight shove by the female beside him. “This is Vivianne, my mate.”

“It’s nice to meet all of you. Your Court has been all but a myth to most of us.” The female says, her eyes curious, and Ophiuchus knows the second she and Ayla talk they will become quick friends.

“And us with all of you, Lady Vivianne.” Ophiuchus replies, before turning to introduce his court to the High Lord and Lady. Even though he finds odd the fact that the male didn’t introduce his mate as the High Lady of Winter.

“I believe your mother was from our court?” Kallias says as they begin to walk. “We were looking at the olden documents and only of the few things we found was a wedding between the Dusk High Lord and one of the Winter High Fae.”

“My Grandmother,” Ophiuchus says. “She was high lady for over 800 years before her death. My lady mother preceded her.”

“High Lady?” Vivianne asks.

“Yes?” Ophiuchus says with a confused look.

“But she was from here? I though your grandfather was the High Lord.”

“He was, and grandmother was his High Lady.” Ophiuchus says, seeing the couple nod with some surprise lurking in his eyes.

“Forgive me, but isn’t this common practice?” Ayla asks.

“Not really. Not with our generation or the one before us at least.” Vivianne says, “well there’s Feyre but she’s from Night, and we’ll Rhysand just made her such. I’m Lady of Winter, that’s the title.”

The ones from Dusk nod, not wanting to disrespect their hosts, but it was an odd concept.

“But say… are there any cases of the reverse happening? High Ladies and no High Lords?” Vivianne asks curiously.

“My great-grandmother, Venus.” Ophiuchus replies. “One of the best rulers of dusk according to most. Her husband died when my grandfather was still in her womb. She ruled for a long time before abdicating so my grandfather Arcturus could take over the mantle.”

“You mentioned your mother preceded you grandmother in death.” Kallias begins getting a glare from Vivianne, that doesn’t by pass Ophiuchus and makes her lips twitch almost unnoticeable. “We assumed her to be your mother because of dates. You talk as if you’re old, and your eyes do so too. But you still seem young, more so than Tarquin. My point being, how old are you?”

“160.”

“By the mother, you’re a child.” Vivianne says her eyes widening.

“Most of us are around that age, My Lady.” Elia says, “I do believe that if Lord Arcturus wished for Ophiuchus to be advised by older citizens he would have left in his will so. But he trusted his grandson. As did Lady Linnea. Although we are advised by some of the older generations. Dusk suffered a decreased on our population around two winters ago.”

“I do not mean to offend any of you.” Vivianne says, with a sorrowful nod of her head. “It’s more so if a shock. We were far into older when the first war broke around here.”

“Let’s hope, we can make so the next generation doesn’t have to deal with any wars then.” Ophiuchus says with a small nod of his head.

“That would be a good prospect.” Kallias says.

“Did all of the other courts confirmed they will be present?”

“Yes. The Night Court has already arrived.”

Ophiuchus nods, “I wouldn’t assimilate all those types of magic essence with night.”

“Oh, Feyre has the magic of all the High Lords, but you of course.” Vivianne mentions understanding clouding her eyes, “and there’s her sisters, i believe Kallias mentioned that they were made by the Calderon.”

“Yes, he did.” Ophiuchus nods, “and-“

Ophiuchus voice dies down and he stops moving. A hand clutching his chest.

The feeling he only has when he’s being graced by sleep, surrounding him.

Asphodels, honey and sea salt.

Joyful and blissful laugher ringing in his ears.

“Ophiuchus?” Ayla’s voice echoed in his head and he feels his cousin touch his arm.

“Pardon me, I lost my footing for a second.” Ophiuchus forces out.

“Maybe the large distance?” Vivianne offers, “we shall get to the meeting hall? Have some refreshments?”

Ophiuchus nods, and Kallias moves beside Vivianne but not before eying the male with some mix of suspicion and curiosity. Something surely just happened.

“You sensed something?” Ayla asks, quietly her arm still on Ophiuchus.

“I heard her.” Ophiuchus replies, “her laugher. There might actually be something wrong with men.”

“Or she’s near.” Ayla counters. “Stop playing worst case scenario, cousin.”

“Hard not too when I can feel the ghost of her around me, when I don’t even know who she is.”

“Well you do know she isn’t in pain. Which comparing to sometime ago, it’s good.”

Ophiuchus can’t help but nod. Because of course she remembers. Probably anyone that was in the castle does.

How Ophiuchus collapsed, how he screamed and how he only stoped when his grandmother had force fed him a potion.

He had felt searing pain, and considering he was okay. The next possible option was his mate being under some kind of distress.

He gets so lost in the phantom pain and memories, he doesn’t notice the scent of Asphodels and Honey and Sea salt getting stronger. Doesn’t notice that it seems mora palpable than ever before.

What snaps him out of his mind, when Kallias open the door is the sight of white curls.

White curls he knows from his dreams. White stained with gold, white curls that he catches glimpses of as its owner jumps in his arms hugging him and his vision is all white and gold.
Softness and honey. Kindness and asphodels. Silent promises and sea salt.

Mate.

My beautiful beam of light.

I’m here. 

Chapter Text

The first thing that came back to Reverie’s awareness was more of a sensation. Something singing inside of her chest, weaving itself around her heart.

Then the scent of Opium poppies mixed with strawberries and sandalwood, invaded her senses.

Much like the scent that she would dream while walking on those now so familiar clearings. That would get stronger when she approached the canopy of orange trees.

She slowly felt more awareness coming to her, she was laying down in something soft. There were muffled noises, voices speaking close to her but it was like she had her head underwater. Everything was murky.

She felt a familiar hand clutching her own, she knew that was Nesta’s — whose fingers were tracing her knuckles, in a nervous manner.

A hand moving a strand of hair from her face, Elain.

And she could feel Feyre’s presence both physical and close to her mind.

“She’s awaking.” Feyre’s voice was the first one she heard properly but it was the raw worry in it that made Reverie open her eyes. Eyes that met her sister blue ones but also the ceiling of the winter palace.

Not the time to pass out Reverie, she chides in her mind.

‘I’m afraid, that was a fitting situation,’ Rhysand’s coice comes in her mind, but he’s not on her line of view.

“What happened?”

“You fainted.”

“No not that. Rhys said fitting situation.” Reverie says sitting up with Elain and Feyre’s help. “What did he mean?”

Feyre’s eyes moved towards Elain and Elain looked at Nesta.

“Guys, you three are freaking me out a bit.” Reverie says quietly, eyes darting between her sisters.

“Um… there’s a situation.” Nesta begins.

“A situation really?” Elain asks their eldest sister.

“How you you put it then Elain?”

“That it was her magic reacting.”

“Reacting to what?”

“A mating bond.” Feyre says quietly.

And the silence that follows is deafening. Reverie isn’t sure if she heard it right.

“What?”

“you’re apparently mated to the High Lord of Dusk.” Gwyn says when she realizes no one did elaborate.

Reverie blinks once, twice, thrice, “The what from where?”

“Apparently, besides the whole Kochei thing. Kallias was contacted by the High Lord of Dusk, who’s court had been trapped by magic for over a 700 years.” Feyre says, “you started going pale the second we could feel his magic.”

“oh.”

“Oh?” Nesta says, “that’s your reaction “oh”?”

“I didn’t think I would have a mate,” Reverie says quietly, “I mean yeah, there were the weird dreams in places I never saw but I thought it was my head trying to comfort me after everything, not a mating bond. And now?”

“Well the High Lords are meeting.” Elain says, and Rhys, Azriel and Cassian’s absences make sense. The other two were probably there to keep the united front and to watch over Rhys.

“Shouldn’t you be there Fey?”

“I am. In a way.” She says, tapping her temple. “They’re discussing the basics of what we know. Vassa is explaining what she knows and Jurian is being Jurian and glaring at everyone.”

“That tracks.” Lucien comments.

“Lainey?” Reverie calls turning to Elain.

“Yes?”

“Did you see anything regarding this or him?”

“No.” Elain shakes her head, “but his cousin had to drag him to the meeting when they decided it was for the best to give you some air.”

A knock on the door stops any comments anyone else might make, and Vivianne enters the room, letting out a relieved sigh when she sees Reverie awake.

“Oh good, thank the mother, you’re okay.” she then moves handing her a large mug. “Hot chocolate.” She says when Reverie frowns before accepting the mug, “obviously with added cinnamon.”

“Thank you, Viv.”

“No problem. A little pick me up after fainting is good. I wasn’t sure if you drank alcohol so sweet it is.”

“Good choice.” Elain says with a smile, brushing Reverie’s hair down.

“Now… Feyre, would you tell Rhysand to tell him about her being awake.” Vivianne says, “he looked like he was going to have a heart attack.”

“already done.”

“Territorial Males.” Vivianne says with a dramatic sigh, “they turn into such mother hens.”

Elain snorts while giving Lucien a pointed look. 

“Anything you wanna say, Blossom?”

“No dearest, nothing.” Elain says with a playful smile.

Nesta rolled her eyes at the two but Reverie could see the happiness in her eyes at their sister happiness, as Nesta unconsciously kept tracing Reverie’s knuckles.

“Will any of you grace me with the knowledge of his name at least? Or will I be in the dark?”

“Ophiuchus.” Feyre says.

“Like the constellation?”

“Family tradition, I’m afraid.” A voice joins the conversation and a girl with curly jet black hair and silver eyes, makes herself know, with a quick dip of her head in green. “I’m Ayla Hesperus. Ophiuchus’ cousin, and his second.” 

“I’m-“

“Reverie Archeron.” Ayla finished with a smile, “quite the myth all of you. Even with so little time with our court being able to contact the outside world again, the stories have already reached us.”

“Ophi almost fainted when we crossed the threshold into the palace. You can ask Lady Vivianne, he all but froze.”

“Just Vivianne, Ayla.”

The jet-haired woman nods but continues to look at Reverie, who looks at her, her curiosity getting the best of her so she has to ask.

“Does your court holds a clearing, a large one by a cluster of mountains. That has a canopy of orange trees by a lake?”

Ayla’s eyes widen. “You saw Euryphaessa.” She says slowly, “it’s our capital.”

“Well, if my dreams are anything to go by it’s beautiful.” Reverie says shyly.

“It is.” Ayla says with a smile. “Well, I just came to check on by. Taran deal with Ophi. I come here and see you’re okay by myself and he stays and pays attention on the meeting. Males I tell you, sometimes… by the mother. I will see you soon.”

And with a dip of her head she leaves.

“Did she just confirm I dreamt about a place that I’ve never been in or even knew that existed?” Reverie asks after a beat of silence.

“She did.” Lucien nods.

“Did any of you have that?”

“Dreamt of the night sky but not something specific.” Feyre says, with a pensive look.

“That’s nowhere near as specific, though.” Elain comments.

“Yeah, fair point.” Feyre says, “everything will be fine, Ria.”

“We are in the middle of a war, Fey.”

“Don’t do that to yourself.” Gwyn says, with a serious tone.

“Do what?”

“Try to push the idea that you can be happy away from your mind.”

Reverie sighs but nods under the gaze of the red headed Valkyrie and of her older sisters.

“It will be alright, Reverie.” Vivianne says comfortingly, “if it gives you any piece of mind, he’s very much a respectable male. And very very handsome.”

Reverie just nods stressing her lower lip with her teeth, but her cheeks flush slightly, the first action results in her gaining a squeeze on her hand from Nesta.

“Are we to stay here or go to the meeting?”

“Staying here is better.” Feyre says, “at least for now.”

……..

Vivianne promptly brings a lot of finger foods and drinks for the other’s when it’s decided that they’re staying in the room.

Elain ends up settling on redoing Reverie’s hair as Nesta and Gwyn tell Vivianne about the Valkyrie training.

“Your mind is away.” Elain says quietly.

“I’m a tad bit overwhelmed.” Reverie says back in the same tone. “And a bit embarrassed.”

“Whatever for?”

“I fainted Lainey.”

“The amount of magic that swirled around the room? It would be weird if you hadn’t.” Elain says.

“Maybe… is it stupid that I’m also nervous?”

“No no it’s not,” Elain says with a shake of her head. “It’s normal I’d say. Me and Lucien met under different circumstances but I do believe that nervousness is about normal when it comes to a mating bond. People just react to the nervousness in different ways.”

“You mean you hiding from him, Feyre throwing a shoe at Rhys and Nesta aggravating Cassian.” Reverie teases.

“And you fainting.” Elain teases back.

Reverie gives her a tentative smile.

“What’s really on that head of yours?”

“You’re a Seer, Nesta is Lady Death and a Valkyrie, Feyre is the Cursebreaker. I’m just me. What if that’s not enough?”

“It will be. You’re enough Reverie, more than enough” Elain says, adamant tone in her voice, as she finishes her hair, “and you never know. Things change with time. We did so didn’t we?”

“Okay.” Reverie says, letting out a breath. “That’s a good point. More than a good point actually.”

“Oh I know I’m brilliant,” Elain jokes practically preening in delight making Reverie laugh.

Chapter Text

Ophiuchus Hesperus was not a patient person. 

It was a nuisance most of the times. Sometimes even to himself. He could remember getting on his mother’s nerves as a child, until she would just laugh and cave in. 

But now, he wasn’t only Ophiuchus. He was High Lord of Dusk. He was responsible for all the people in his court, old and young, friend or foes, and there was clearly a war approaching. 

And yet… yet his mind kept returning to white locks and soft features. 

She looked like an gift sent from The Mother, maybe even made at her very image. He barely was able to pull himself away from the room, yet at the same time couldn’t bring himself to be closer to her; not when she was in such state. He didn’t want to cross any boundaries or cause a bad impression on his mate, by acting like a crazy male. 

He moved into the meeting room, half his mind present, half of it extremely attuned to the golden string alive and singing on his chest. Softly thrumming like piano keys in a soft lullaby. 

‘Feyre tells me to relay to you that she’s awake and well.’ A voice says on his head, and Ophiuchus nods almost unnoticeably towards the mate of his mate’s sister and the Night’s High Lord before placing his mental shields in place. 

“We still do not know what kept your court away.” The Lord of The Day Court, Helion, said looking towards him. 

“We have been working on figuring that out,” Ophiuchus replies, “the barrier was clear, it felt like in consistency like water, and yet, completely unmovable but we were able to see the other side much like glass.” 

After a beat of silence, he added with a slight wince, “One would grow weak in energy if pressing up against it for too long.”

“That sounds like it’s spoken experience.” Kallias comments. 

“I was a nuisance as a child.” Ophiuchus hums, and he doesn’t miss the snort from Darius or Elia, making him roll his eyes, as some of the other high lords look amused. 

“We are not here to hear tales,” The High Lord of Autumn spoke and his heir seemed to be counting in his head, seemingly trying to hold himself back if the way his hands clenched up were anything to go by.

Curious. 

“You asked about the barrier, I’m stating the facts about it.” Ophiuchus says his tone bored. “The difference between tales and history is simply a matter of proof.” 

“When the matter is actually important, we will resume this. I have no time to play house there’s a court I need to run.” Beron Vanserra says before leaving in a winnowing flash, meanwhile his oldest son stays behind. 

“Remind me again why we put up with him.” Thesan says to no one in particular. 

“Because he’s a bastard but still holds autumn power.” Tarquin says. 

“Maybe this should be a reason to consider.” Tamlin, The High Lord of Spring speaks for the first time since he introduced himself. 

“Consider?” The Autumn Heir repeats the men’s words. 

“Say Eris, how many citizens in Autumn despise your father and wouldn’t bat eyes regarding a coup.” Tamlin begins, looking at no one in particular, “Lady Autumn included wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.” 

Ophiuchus catches how the High Lord of Day tenses at the mention of the Lady. 

His eyes glance towards Elia and Silas both who seem to have catch such actions too. 

“That’s treason.” Eris says. 

“Treason per say it wouldn’t.” Tamlin says.

“Are you getting anywhere Tamlin?” Kallias says in a exasperated tone. 

“You do remember Spring and Autumn share barriers,” Tamlin says, “I can count on one hand, those that have had a good word to say about Beron. Your Court alliance is too Autumn not to Beron.” 

“If there’s no alliance to one’s government, there’s no treason committed.” Eris says. 

“That’s actually a fair point,” Rhysand admits, and it looks like it pains him to do so. 

There’s some deep rivalry there, Ophiuchus thinks as he looks between the HIgh Lords of Spring and Night. 

Tamlin just dips his head, in a silent acknowledgment to the statement. 

“You’re all saying we should stage a coup on my father.” 

“Considering he seems to be trying to divert the attention from a very much know and powerful death god.” Helion says, “and that he did seem like he was skittish.” 

“You think he’s aligned himself with-“ The Autumn heir exhales, “I wouldn’t put pass him.” He adds after a beat of silence. 

“If I do it, with your backup. I want my mother out of Autumn first.” 

“And your brother’s?” 

“Lucien is at Night. Callahan, Azar and Conley will have my back.” 

“How can you be sure?” 

“Blood runs thicker than water and in our case. There’s also trauma bonding there and some vengeance wishes that have been long present.” 

“We haven’t even began to see the real Beron Vanserra have we.” Rhysand asks breaking his quiet stance. 

Eris just looks at Rhysand, and Ophiuchus is able to see the second the Heir allows the High Lord to see something on his mind. 

The High Lord of Night eyes are lit in cold fury. “Seems like we now have a plan regarding that.” 

“And Kochei?” Thesan asks, before turning to one of the few woman present at the room, “Queen Vassa, I understand is a sore topic but-“ 

“Ask what you have to ask High Lord, I’m human but not made of porcelain. Im a firebird. I can take a couple hard questions.” 

“I have one then, Your Grace.” Ophiuchus speaks up once something clicks in his mind. Firebird. gaining the attention to him. “Did you see the box?” 

Vassa turns to him so quickly that it’s a wonder how she didn’t break her neck, and Jurian frowns at the action. 

“The dome around my court just started making more and more sense.” Ophiuchus says, with a tired exhale. 

“Meaning?” Kallias asks.

“Meaning. This is something bigger that has been in motion for centuries, and for some reason has only started moving out of the dark now.”

Chapter Text

The sudden worry, driving through the bond, almost has Reverie standing up and trying to get into the High Lord meeting.

It’s raw worry. It’s the kind of worry you feel when dread begins to pool in your stomach.

Something is off.

“Feyre,” Reverie calls nervously, “what’s wrong?”

“Breathe, it’s okay.” Feyre says moving a hand to hold her younger sister. “They’re just setting the cards on the table. They’re almost done.”

“Cards?” Nesta asks.

“Figuratively. Apparently a coup is a idea.” Feyre says blinking slightly, as her eyes go foggy as she’s probably talking with Rhys

“Oh?” Vivianne says with a frown.

“The fucking bastard,” Feyre says with an angry tone.

“Feyre?” Lucien calls.

“Eris thinks Beron is considering aligning himself with Kochei in exchange of power.”

Lucien looks like there are actual flames moving behind his eyes, “please tell me the coup is regarding him.”

“It is. Eris says you are in the night court. He thinks Azar, Callahan and Conley will follow him, and that all we need to do is get your mother out of the court.”

Lucien breathes in, Elain’s hand clutching his fiercely, as they seem to have a silent conversation. Daemati or not, they’re mates. They surely know each other.

“Tell Rhysand, I have a way of getting access. But the Shadowsinger might be needed to actually get her out.”

“You haven’t been to Autumn in years.” Gwyn points out with a curious look, strategy is something Reverie knows that her sister’s friend appreciates.

“There’s the only moment where Beron’s traditionalist views comes in handy. He is paranoid but hates change.” Lucien says. “The hard part is not that. Is convincing mother she won’t loose another child, and that the plan won’t go awry.”

“If her boys are all on the same page, I do believe she will consider it. Especially considering, all the courts will be behind it.” Feyre says.

“Tamlin?” Vivianne asks.

“A comment of his lead to the actual discussion…” Feyre says her own voice surprised.

“Decided to wake up,” Vivianne hums. “Good, his people need it.”

Nesta fixes Feyre with a look. A Valkyrie, a Lady of Death, an Older sister look. “I don’t care what this come to. Not myself nor any of you three are to be left alone with him.”

“I don’t think that will come to but I have the same feelings.” Feyre says back.

“Leave him to me and Kallias if it comes to it.” Vivianne says, looking between the four sisters.

Elain and Lucien were still in a silent conversation, and Gwyn moved squeezing Nesta’s shoulder.

Feyre to her feet, her eyes going glossy again. Either to check in with Rhys or on Nyx.

“Is Nyx, okay?” Reverie asked when her eyes cleared.

“Madja just placed him to sleep.”

“And everyone in there?”

“Mor says the same thing Nesta did but regarding to Eris. Rhys and I agreed that if Azriel has to be near Eris we need to have a third party there just for sanity’s sake. And Amren told Rhys for me to tell you that your mate holds ancient energy… whatever that means.”

“Do we ever know things right away with Amren?” Reverie says with a shrug.

“Well she does have somewhat of a soft spot towards you.” Feyre argues.

“For whatever reason.” Reverie hums, taking her teacup and sipping from it, “it’s odd considering everything.”

“Everything?” Feyre frowns.

“We haven’t figured out what, if anything, that the Calderon gave me, and up until like half an hour ago we didn’t even knew I had a bond.” Reverie says.

“Maybe there something we are missing? Or something that will come and flourish. We didn’t know about Nesta being Lady Death.” Feyre reasons.

“And…” Vivianne pipes in with a sheepish smile, for having listened to what the two were talking, “some High Fae, take some time to perfect their affinities and gifts. Considering the amount of traumatic events, that might be the case with you.”

“Maybe…” Reverie says giving the woman a small smile, yet it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“And even then, you’re the only person who knows as much as you do without being a Priestess or a Scholar or a seer like Elain is.” Gwyn says softly, coming back to sit at her previous place.

“I’m curious, have always been.” Reverie says with a shrug, she doesn’t think to much of it.

Nesta and Feyre just share knowing looks. That’s not Reverie speaking. Not really.

That’s Marsaili Archeron, her twisted teachings on how a lady should behave.

‘What’s wrong?’ Rhysand’s voice echoed in her mind, his presence echoing in her mind like a gentle cares to her cheek.

‘Reverie is underplaying her brain capability.’

‘Feyre Darling, your sister is used to moving around unnoticed. Had the Calderon made her into a shadowsinger she would give Az a run for his money.’

‘And now she’s mated to a high lord…’

‘You’re worried.’

‘I’m her older sister, of course I’m worried. She’s only eighteen.’

‘So we’re you when the whole ordeal with Spring started.’

‘I was 19, Rhys .’ Feyre corrects. ‘ She was trusted into all of this when she was 15.’

‘Feyre, your sister is wiser than most eighteen year old. She has a whole family behind her. She’ll be okay.’

‘What’s your opinion of him?’

‘Short time to have a full opinion. Yet at least for now, he seems attentive to detail and a good ruler.’

Feyre hums in her head.

‘And well he does seem to be holding himself back from crossing the boundaries we set when Reverie was unconscious.’

‘That’s good.’ Feyre says, ‘and the meeting?’

‘Almost over, but I have a feeling Helion will probably stay. He hates Beron for more reasons than most.’

‘Well… we can’t exactly blame him.’ Feyre says, ‘you think he knows… about Lucien?’

‘I, in all honesty, Feyre, have no idea. Did you tell Lucien about the…’

‘Yes, he’s talking with Elain since then. But he says he knows a way into the place Lady Autumn is. Says that maybe he’ll need Azriel to help but he’s sure he has a way in.’

‘Good. That’s good. Had my mother seen what came of her friend. She would probably have killed Beron with her bare hands.’

‘She would?’

‘We are talking about the same woman who took Cass and Az in, Feyre. My mother might have conformed to some things, but to others… remember your ring love?’

Feyre smiles.

‘I like hearing about her. I’m happy you decided to share that anecdote with me.’

‘Someday are easier than others but I will keep that in mind. Nyx deserves to know his grandmother even if through stories.’

‘His only grandmother for all that I care .’ Feyre says.

There’s no love left behind between the Archeron sisters and their mother. Only pain, unhealthy mechanisms, and generational trauma they hope to break.   

‘You’re doing it again, Darling .’ Rhys’ voice cuts through her walk through the dark corners of her mind that still are under her mother’s world view grasp.

‘Sorry. Are all of you close to be done?’

‘We are done. ’ Rhys replies, ‘Tamlin, Tarquin and Thesan are leaving but for now. Seems like the others will stay.’

‘Eris and Helion?’

‘ Yes.’ Rhys says.

‘The bond? Will they know about it? ’ Feyre asks worriedly.

‘ Helion will the second he looks at them. If he doesn’t already. And Ophiuchus doesn’t seem worried about Eris.’

‘ And your view?’

‘He tries something and he will have Dusk and Night against him. He might not be my favorite person but he’s not stupid .’

‘When are all of you going to come here?’

‘Leaving the meeting room now .’ Rhys replies, ‘better warn your sister.’

‘Oh she knows, ’ Feyre replies when she sees Reverie’s back straighten and her eyes dart around the room.

Chapter Text

Reverie’s mind was never quiet.

She always had been an overthinker, for the better or worse. It certainly didn’t stop after the Calderon.

The first month or so, her mind was almost completely shut down — she didn’t go nearly catatonic like Elain, no. But everything was certainly robotic.

It was like she was there but was somewhere else. Someone else.

She barely remembered that time. All she knew was of what Feyre and Nesta told her.

The part she had a brief recollection was on a particularly bad day grasping her older sister arms fiercely and telling her to shut down her mind. To use her Daemati magic and make things quiet.

And to Feyre’s credit, she did. Her mind went into some kind of stasis, feeling like her own mind again.

But it was fleeting in a few hours, it was like her mind was scrambled into a mess.

Feyre mentioned that her mind was complex and she didn’t really knew how to keep that stasis. So later in the same day, Reverie remembered sitting on her brother-in-law’s office. His violet eyes trained on her, but hers avoiding looking directly at him.

“How long has that happened?” Rhysand’s voice was more kind than curious.

Maybe because if she was a child to her sisters’ eyes he probably had looked at her and seen a baby.

She had been only fifteen when thrown into the Calderon.

“Always.”

Because that was the unspoken truth she hadn’t allowed herself to ever speak out loud. Maybe for fear of being different, maybe because she thought something had been wired differently in her mind.

She did have moments all through her life, before the Calderon were she would feel things, know things that she had no way of knowing or no reason to feel.

She remembers explaining that to Rhysand, his apparent confusion at whatever it was. And the mind shielding, daemati-esque training she went through with her sister and him.

It helped. It surely did.

But right now?

It was like everything had melted into nothing.

There’s a warmth surrounding her, like a soft blanket has been placed on her shoulders and she’s soon hit with the scent of Opium poppies mixed with strawberries and sandalwood.

She only needs a glance towards Feyre to know that the meeting is over and they’re probably coming her.

Her mate is coming here.

His scent reaching her before he even makes it into the room. Half of her wanting to stand up and move towards him.

Like a moth to a flame.

But what suddenly hit her line of thought was that despite the feeling that her so called shield had vanished, her mind was calm. It was calm for the first time in probably ever.

“Ria?” Nesta’s voice, broke her away from her thoughts.

“Yes?” Reverie said, turning towards her older sister.

Nesta placed a kiss on her forehead, “you say the word and we kick him out, High Lord or not.”

Gwyn smiles amusedly at her words but nods.

Elain shakes her head slightly, from her place beside Lucien, who looks far less tense now, “You don’t need to go all Lady Death, Nesta.”

“Hell if I don’t, she’s a baby.”

“I’m eighteen,” Reverie counters, “not a baby.”

“You’re eighteen?” Vivianne asks with wide eyes, “oh goodness you’re a baby.”

Lucien let’s out a laugh.

Reverie sighs, “Not helping, you two.”

“Let’s trust, Ria, yes?” Feyre says, “she has a better head on her shoulders than all of us did at her age.”

“Mother would disagree.” Reverie comments almost automatically, without even realizing she’s speaking until she does.

“Well Mother didn’t know pots from pans so we don’t care.” Elain replies, shaking her head.

Feyre, Nesta, Elain and Reverie all look at each other, amusement shining on their eyes as an old memory comes to mind, before busting into laugher.

“You know had I not know about it all I’d be worried,” Lucien comments quietly.

“Same here, but it’s nice to see them being more lighter when they insult her.” Gwyn says back.

“From what I know. I’m glad they are,” Vivianne comments.

“Glad they’re what?” Kallias’ voice comes from behind his mate, him having arrived as the Archeron sisters try to stop laughing.

“That was your best shenanigan, Nesta.” Feyre says breathing in as she tries not to burst into laugher again.

“Oh well thank you.” Nesta says with a playful smirk.

Meanwhile Reverie and Elain are leaning into one another. Trying to catch their breaths, but they second they look at each other they’re spluttering and laughing again.

“Do I even wanna know?”

“Oh Elain over there just reminded us of something we did was children.” Feyre says, “the hag deserved it.”

“Hag?” The question comes from Eris.

“Our so-called mother.” Feyre says, “now thinking about it she and your father would get along so well.”

“Now that’s a terrifying prospect if I ever heard one.” Nesta says.

“She was that awful?”

Four different snorts come as answer, but one of them makes the attention of the High Lord of Dusk move towards its source, to his mate.

“She tried to drown me once,” Reverie comments as if she’s talking about the weather.

“Oh yeah, that was after she threw that hammer on my back.” Nesta hums.

Meanwhile most of the people in the room is looking at them with wide eyes.

“Got it.” Eris says.

“Madja knows about that?” Cassian asks, approaching his mate.

“Madja considered the idea of finding olden necromancy rituals just she could find out mother and kill her herself.” Feyre comments.

Rhys hums, “I don’t put past her actually finding it and doing it.”

“If we are talking about finding a way to do necromancy please don’t waste it on her.” Elain says, “Reduse, Reuse, Reanimate someone else.”

“Never change, Lainey. Never change.” Nesta says with an amused look towards her sister.

“Yeah I like them,” Elia says in a whisper towards Ophiuchus, “very chaotic.”

But Ophiuchus is not listening to her. Not is Reverie listening to anything that has happened since she last spoke and her eyes found his.

His silver eyes are on her golden ones.

Both their gazes locked into one another.

Oh hi, it’s you.

Their eyes seemed to say to one another.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Reverie wondered if Ophiuchus could feel her anxiety.

She wondered how far reaching was the bond even if they hadn’t accepted it yet and part of her reprimanded herself once again for not ever asking her sisters more about mating bonds.

Surely she had read countless books, some on High Fae Culture and Customs and all kind of those things, as to not thread blindly into a new word, into this new society that she now belonged. But she barely had really come across anything relating to mating bonds. And she absolutely hated that it had never crossed her mind to look for it or even ask (And then was the whole tangent of Dusk Court being a mystery and not know off until a few hours ago and her having no idea of how it’s culture and customs worked).

She knew basics of what her sisters had commented and sprinkled in conversation. And yet nothing, nothing her sisters had said, nothing she had heard could encompass what she was feeling, nor tell her what he could be possibly tracking of those feelings.

It was warm. A warmth that very much the feeling of late dusk. Of when the daylight begins to give out into the darkness, when the world is held into a limbo. The warmth when the temperature begins to drop. Of walking barefoot on marble floors. Of reading a book while bundled up in wool blankets. That cozy warm feeling.

It was Opium poppies mixed with strawberries and sandalwood, all mixed up.

It was a soft song, a melody that soothed her bones and her mind, all the same.

It was the male that sat beside her, nothing but polite, sweet and kind to her. Who’s patient to listen to her and mindful enough to ask.

Still, all that didn’t change the fact that she could feel her heart hammering away. As her mind rushed around overthinking, as it often did.

Thoughts of the customs she didn’t know and would have to learn as to not offend him or his court.

Of what expectations and rules would be placed upon her.

Of what he would expect from her

Of what dusk probably looked like.

Of if was to leave with him to dusk now.

Of wondering if he would be kind like he’s being now or if he would change. if they’d have a companionship and friendship like her sisters had with their mates or if she would be fated for a relationship like mother and father. 

“Reverie?” She hears her voice and blinks turning her head and finding silver eyes looking at her. Eyes that are definitely worried.

“Forgive me… I got lost in my head.” Reverie says, her cheeks flushing.

Damn it, Reverie. First impressions matter and you’re making a fool of yourself.

“No one will blame you if you’re overwhelmed.” Ophiuchus says, and his eyes seem to be tracing her face, searching.

Reverie merely nods her head, her hands moving back to her lap, clasping them together. “I-…” she trails off before breathing in, gathering her thoughts, “I assume you wish for me to accompany you back to Dusk.”

“Yes…” Ophiuchus says, nodding slightly, and Reverie can hear the caution on his tone, even though her eyes focus on the way a stray curl of midnight black hair, moves falling on his forehead, “yet even though I do wish that. It is your choice.”

Choice .

That’s not something she’s that used to having, to yielding. Her life has been more of a series of things falling into place and her getting comfortable with the circumstances, her adapting herself to wherever she was and what she felt it was needed.

“ Oh …” she can’t help but letting out, in fact she doesn’t even notices she does so until she is hearing herself verbally reacting.

And her mind… her treacherous mind, and the thoughts of doubt and wariness that her old hag of a mother instilled in her of course make an appearance.

He probably finds you a nuisance and doesn’t want you. He thinks you silly and childish. He’s a lord and you’re just someone who was made and-.

She forces herself to tune it all out.

“You are more then welcome at Dusk. Whenever you wish to be there.” Ophiuchus adds, probably somehow having an inkling of what possible thoughts are on her mind.

You don’t want me, you have no idea how broken I am.

“I believe you’d like the court,” he says quietly, “if the thing with the so called Death God weren’t here. I wouldn’t think twice before offering you for us to go from city to city.”

“Maybe when he’s gone we can do that,” Reverie offers, something warming in her chest at the prospect.

“Anything you wish, My Lady.” Ophiuchus says.

“And…” she exhales, “if I wished to accompany you back to Dusk?”

“Then you can do so,” Ophiuchus says, a small grin blooming on his lips.

“And the catch?” She can’t help but asking, as trepidation fills her.

“Catch?” Ophiuchus frowns slightly, and it takes everything in Reverie not to move and smooth it with her fingers. 

“What do you wish from me?”

“I-“ Ophiuchus blinks, and a thousand and one emotions seem to flicker in his face. “There’s no catch, My Sweet-Eyed girl. You’re my mate and I’m yours. Simple as that. As I said, I just wish to know you.”

“I’m sorry for assuming.” Reverie replies quietly, he probably feels offended by such assumptions.

Repeating his previous actions, Ophiuchus delicately takes her hands — both of them, now — and brings them to his lips, softly kissing her knuckles. “You’re allowed to feel wary, to be overwhelmed, to make assumptions. Just also know that you can ask me whatever you wish, alright? Whatever troubles you, if I can bring you some sort of ease I will do such. I don’t mind answering questions, even though you assume are silly.”

Reverie nods, giving him a smile, a more carefree one than those she previously had given him, and her hands clutch his that are still holding hers.

“Okay.”

And apparently maybe, just maybe, the Mother decided to be kind to her.

Chapter Text

“You’re not going.” Nesta’s words are adamant and sound like a decree, the second the four of them find themselves in the corner of the sprawling sitting room balcony at the Winter Court Palace.

“Nesta,” Elain reprimands their older sister.

“No. We don’t know anything about where she’s going.” Nesta says shaking her head.

“He’s her mate.” Feyre tries to calm the situation down even so if slightly.

“She’s our baby sister.” Nesta snaps, “she’s a baby and the Calderon only knows how old is he and she’s not even 20.”

“And?” Reverie sighs. “If we were on Human lands father would probably have already sold me like a brood mare. Calderon, if mother was alive that might have been before I turned sixteen even.”

“That wouldn’t happen.” Nesta shakes her head, even though she knows it’s the truth.

“Can you really tell me that without second guessing yourself?” Reverie says quietly, looking at her eldest sister. “I know it’s not… I know why you don’t wish me to go. But I- he hasn’t been anything but kind to me, and we do have a mating bond.”

The Calderon took so much but maybe I’m being given something. Reverie adds in her head, something that is mine, to have, to hold and to cherish.

Nesta’s gaze is unwavering but Reverie meets it with her own eyes. Nesta sighs tilting her head back eyes moving to the sky.

“I believe it’s, Ria’s choice, Nesta.” Elain says, her voice slightly echoed, which makes all three of her sisters turn to her.

“You saw something.” Reverie says slightly wide eyed.

Elain hasn’t really seen much regarding her. Barely anything at all.

“Elain?” Nesta calls, when Elain doesn’t say anything merely stares at Reverie. Before Nesta’s voice seems to snap her out of it. Her eyes going  clear once more.

“We have to let her live her life,” Elain says quietly, “we are living ours and she’s merely surviving.”

Reverie tries not to let the words sink too deep into her mind, she wonders what Elain saw. She merely clasps her hands, folding them in front of herself. Not adding anything to her sister’s words, but not denying them either.

Nesta sighs, and looks at Reverie. “You… if anyone and I do mean anyone mistreats you. You call for us and we will have you back at Velaris in a heartbeat.”

Feyre nods, raising her hand to move a stray hair out of Reverie’s face. Something flickering behind her eyes. Memories, Reverie assumes, bad ones, if the slightly forced smile on her sisters lips followed by the way her eyes unfocus probably talking with Rhys in her mind are anything to go by.

“Now tell us,” Feyre says with a more true and carefree smile, eyes twinkling mischievously, “what was your first impression of your mate?”

Reverie can’t help the deep rouge blush that makes itself present on her cheeks and her sisters laugher and knowing smiles don’t make it easier on her.

….

Ophiuchus walks towards where most of his Inner Circle is sitting, after leaving his mate so she can have some privacy while talking with her sisters.

“So?” Elia asks as soon as he approaches.

“So?” Ophiuchus echoes back with an raised eyebrow.

“Oh for the Mother’s sake, Ophiuchus. Just give us something. How is she? What she’s like?” Darius asks, “she’s to be our High Lady and your wife you know?”

“She’s just overwhelmed and she’s-“ He trails off.

Mainly because he can’t quite put into a few words.

Dazzling, beautiful, cleaver, kind, caring, ethereal.

Everything his soul earned for and then some more.

And also because there is a lot of people in this room large as it might be, he’s not about to show weakness and simultaneously put a target on his Mate’s back.

“Can’t exactly blame her for being overwhelmed. I believe there isn’t a setting where it wouldn’t be.” Taran says, his voice breaking through Ophiuchus mind ravings. “Will she be going to Dusk with us?”

“Of course she is!” Darius says, “she’s his mate.”

“She also has a choice, Darius. She will not be made do anything she doesn’t wish.” Ophiuchus says, with a slightly colder tone, “but I do believe she will.”

“Good,” Ayla says, with a small smile.

“Oh it will be nice having another girl around,” Daphne says with a nod. “I have a feeling  Euryphaessa will be a place she will like. We shall show her around. Help her become familiar with our court.”

“Oh and the foods and fashion and our festivals.” Elia gushes.

“Try not to overwhelm her, dear.” Daphne says to her with an amused smile.

“Something bothers you,” Ayla says to her cousin as the rest of the court keeps on talking, only Taran who was beside the two also hearing.

“There’s a war knocking on our door of course something bothers me.” Ophiuchus says.

“Wanna try that again, cousin?” Ayla ask with a pointed ‘you-are-not-fooling-me’ look.

“We have a lot of things that out here aren’t normal.” Ophiuchus comments quietly.

“She doesn’t seem a very judgmental person. Specially not one to judge before even knowing things.”

“Maybe not.” Ophiuchus says, “doesn’t change the fact that we… deal and do things differently than what they do over here, and specially from what they do in the human lands as far as I’m aware.”

“The Mother made her your mate,” Taran says, “there’s probably a reason she was made such.”

“Let’s hope you’re right, Taran.”

“He tends to be.” Ayla hums. “Does she have any specific gifts given by the Calderon?” She asks quietly and curiously, “like her sisters?”

“Not that I’ve been told off and I do believe not that she’s aware of it either.” Ophiuchus says, “her being made did come up in conversation but we didn’t dwell on it. I didn’t think fair to ask much. It clearly wasn’t an easy situation what happened…”

“They were kidnapped and thrown in it.” Taran comments, and Ophiuchus and Ayla turn to him. “People talk, specially when it’s gossip regarding their rulers and such, and I’m a Spymaster, you should be glad I’m aware of things.”

Ophiuchus hums, his eyes moving to his mate who’s in one corner with her sisters.

It amusing how they look alike, but nothing alike at the same time. His Sweet-Eyed girl eyes and hair making her the most different out of the four.

He can feel the bond thrumming inside of his chest as he looks at her, the pull to be near her.

Chapter Text

It took a total of 12 minutes for her oldest sister to be glaring away at her mate.

“Nesta,” Reverie calls, “Feyre is a Daemati and can Winnow, Cassian can fly, Lucien and Azriel can winnow, you guys can visit me.”

“We don’t know where it is or how Dusk works.” Nesta says, as she moves to look back at her. Feyre had gone to talk with Vivianne and Elain was with Lucien, Azriel and Gwyn, talking quietly not far from where they were.

“You’re helping a lot with my nerves,” Reverie says in a slightly sarcastic tone, before she raises her mug to take a sip, because bless Vivianne, she had hot chocolate on the table that held beverages.

“Sorry,” Nesta said and actually winced, visibly so. “I just… worry.”

“I know.” Reverie says softly, moving and squeezing her sister’s hand with her free one.

“Congratulations Little Sister,” Cassian says, a grin on his lips, as he moves, draping one of his arms around her sister, kissing her temple. “Or should I call you High Lady of Dusk now?”

“You will not do such thing.” Reverie says softly, shaking her head. “Don’t even dare, besides I’m not anything yet we just met.”

“Not by Dusk Customs from what Kallias was telling Rhysand.” Cassian hums, “you are The High Lady of Dusk. They have a more… progressive approach. Kallias words not mine.”

“They just gained points with me on that aspect.” Nesta hums.

“I figured they would,” Cassian says and winks at Reverie making the youngest Archeron give him a grateful smile.

Because the Lord of Bloodshed knew his mate well, and he probably came to offer some peace of mind and comfort to her and to Reverie with the few words he said, with the information he was made aware.

“So you’re going back to Velaris with us or…”

“Apparently not,” Nesta says looking at her sister.

“I already promised you, if anything changes I will send for one of you.”

“You shall not blame me for my trepidation on letting you go with a stranger.” Nesta says, “and I know you did.”

She feels him getting near without even turning around and the hardening of Nesta’s features are telling, she moves turning around finding Ophiuchus a few steps away from where she stands.

He’s approaching with a blank look on his face but his lips twitch when he looks at her.

“My Lady,” He greets her.

Reverie gives him a small smile, “you’ve met my oldest sister… this is her mate, and the Night’s General, Cassian.”

Ophiuchus dips his head in greeting. “Lord Rhysand mentioned you both integrating Illyrian Females on your rankings and bringing back the Valkyrie’s, my libraries hold some tomes from the Valkyrie’s legions. If they’re are of interest, I could arrange some copies to be delivered to you.”

Reverie blinks in surprise, and her eyes dart to Nesta, seeing the curiosity in them, before they move to her mate.

“At what price?” Nesta asks, raising a eyebrows

“Things here’s still seem a bit ancient on terms of equality with all respect and honesty.” Ophiuchus shrugs. “And in technicality, you’re family.”

Reverie gives Nesta a pointed look, despite her flaming cheeks at the last part, See?

“When are you leaving?” Nesta asks.

“Whenever your sister feels like she’s okay with it, ideally before nightfall.” Ophiuchus replies with another casual shrug. One that should not look as refined as it does.

“-but anyways I will card through those books and try to find it.” One of the females from Dusk, says approaching with Elain and Vassa by her side.

“What are you plotting now Elia?”

“Me? Nothing. I’m just saying that we have a lot of books that they might not.” Elia replies, turning to a male who looks like the genderbent version of herself, “do you know any relating to that?”

“Not out of the top of my head, but there’s probably something.” He says before he bows his head, “my apologies for my twin. I’m Silas, that menace is my twin sister Elia, the blonde beside her is Daphne, the one who looks like he’s carding through his brain is Taran, and this one is Darius,” he says indicating to each as he says their names, “And well you’ve already met Ayla.”

Reverie gives them a small smile in greeting, “it’s nice to meet all of you.”

“They’re my court, the only ones missing are Solana, Blake and Sirius.” Ophiuchus says to her. “they stayed behind at Dusk.”

Reverie finds herself nodding while trying to remember all the names.

“The books are regarding Vassa’s curse.” Elain says towards Reverie.

“We are dealing with him and well Gwyn has a theory.” Vassa adds looking to the Valkyrie.

“We find the basis of his powers, we find a loophole to Vassa’s curse and doing so…”

“We find a way to kill him.” Feyre completes. “Death God or not.”

“No one truly controls death.” Reverie says mindlessly.

All the heads in the room turn to her.

“Your sister is literally called Lady Death.” Eris comments.

“She’s acquainted with it. Not it’s master.” Reverie mumbles, her cheeks flushing at the attention, “am I wrong?”

“No. No you’re not.” Nesta says, looking at her sister with analytical eyes, “it doesn’t do my bidding without a price and clearly not by my every whim.”

“And it was given to you by the Calderon…” Feyre comments with a frown, but realization slowly falls into her face.

“Which means we need to find if his abilities including the one to inflict the curse that has befallen Vassa something Kochei was born with or if it was gifted to him by something or someone.” Reverie says, smoothing the skirts of her dress.

“Why isn’t she a scholar again?” Helion asks looking at the youngest Archeron.

“For the answer, you need to ask her that question.” Rhysand says amused, to which Reverie rolls her eyes.

They have had that conversation countless times, specially when things intuitively spill out of her mouth out of nowhere just as they did. Amren, freaking Amren of all people, had stoped and looked at her surprised once a few months ago, and Rhys hadn’t let that go, not completely.

Why should he? at least you could make yourself useful for a change , a voice that sounds oddly like her mother’s seem to echo in her mind.

I help with Nyx, and unlike you, him and Feyre respect my choices. They let me breathe and process everything that happened at my pace , She thinks back.

‘ Ria ,’ Feyre’s voice cuts through her spiraling.

Reverie blinks and finds everyone staring at her, her eyes move to her feet, “I apologize, got too lost in my head. Please continue.”

“We focus on Kochei’s power and it’s possible weaknesses while assessing the Beron situation.” Vivianne says and seems like the conversation moved seemingly through both topics as she stayed stagnant in her mind. “We report back in a month or sooner if we have any drastic developments?”

“I believe that’s a good time frame.” Reverie hears her sister reply.

“Good, we will set aside some of the scholars.” Helion says, “specially those who work with codifying curses and old tales.”

“We planning doing the same,” Rhysand says, “the priestess have been working with some theories for sometime.”

Gwyn nods, and Reverie remembers her mentioning things here and that about her research.

Emotions echoed through the room and those present. Dread and hope walking side by side towards things that were uncertain and things that could be found out.

….

Most end up leaving by the next hour or so, the High Lords and Feyre arranging the details of the next meeting which is to take place in Velaris.

She is cradling her second mug of hot chocolate looking out to the view of winter from the balcony.

“Wait till you have a taste of our mulled wine. I have a feeling you will quite like it.” A voice speaks and she turns around coming to face Taran.

“Lord Taran,” she greets with a small smile, “well I look forward to it.”

“Just Taran.”

“Then call me Reverie, please.”

Taran nods, before quietly saying, “you’re worried.”

“Oh that tend to be my default emotion, I’m afraid.”

“About our court I mean.”

“Oh… that.” She sighs. “is it that apparent?”

“No. But I’m not a Spymaster for no reason.”

Reverie hums, “good to know the court is on good hands. You’re very elusive, and yet I wouldn’t have guessed you.”

“Silas?”  Taran guesses

“Yeah,” Reverie says, “I apologize if I offended you.”

“Oh no, it’s a long time trick. He could be too but he is very much political minded.”

“He seems such. So I assume Elias is the general, Ayla his second?”

“Correct.” The male nods, eyes raking through the view.

“Ophiuchus mentioned ideally we are leaving before night, so that would be anytime now?”

Taran hums, “I assume he said so, so that he can show you a bit of Euryphaessa on daylight. I might be biased but it’s a sigh to be taken with.”

“Euryphaessa,” Reverie echoed, the name feeling so familiar on her mouth, “does that mean anything specific.”

"Something along the lines of ‘wide-shining,’” Taran replies.

“That’s pretty.”

“The city certainly fits its name,” Daphne’s voice makes itself present just as the female approaches them.

“They’re still politicking.”

“Oh, but of course.” Daphne hums, “they have new points of views of course they’re using it. They can be at it for hours, My Lady.”

“Reverie,” The youngest Archeron corrects softly.

“Daphne then,” Daphne says with a smile, “good to know you’re not stuck to titles, not many in our court are.”

“Titles are just words in the end.”

“Oh, you and I will get along very well.”

Reverie smiles, she certainly hopes so, possibly friends to call her own, who are not her friends because they’re her sisters, it is nice.

Chapter Text

As things slowly settled and arrange themselves. All Ophiuchus wishes to do is show his mate his court, is pick her brain about anything and everything.

He catches the moment Taran and Daphne slowly start to make conversation with her. Slowly pulling her from the shell she seems to have around herself.

“She does that a lot,” a voice moves him away from his thoughts and he turns his head slightly to see the High Lady of Night, and his mate older sister glancing towards where he was looking, “ever since she was but a babe, long before she was made, retreat into her mind.” She adds, before looking at him. “She does seems comfortable with you and your court.”

“I’d like to think so.” Ophiuchus hums. “But that’s not what you want to say to me.” he adds, because it isn’t, her shoulders are tense and she’s going back and forth saying whatever she’s about to say.

“She’s a child.” Feyre’s voice is lined with protectiveness, with worry and slight grief, “She’s been through a lot in the past years. So be patient with her.”

“I do not intend on hurting my mate.” He says back, normally he wouldn’t even entertain replying, specially considering what could be seen as a the veiled implication in the words, but his mate. His lovely sweet-eyed girl seems close to her family so a bit of unusualness on his behavior isn’t Ill warranted.

“I don’t believe you do,” Feyre hums, “when do you plan on leaving?”

“As soon as all is settled which seems like any moment now. Considering we’ve all decided our next steps. The quicker we move, the quicker we will have answers.”

“At least we have time to gather those, things here tend to be more of a ‘it’s-already-happening-and-you’re-only-now-being-made-aware.”

“So I’ve heard...”

“Gossip travels fast, as the wind doesn’t it.”

“Yes, it does. Spymasters help though, for those of us who aren’t Daemati that is.”

Feyre just gives a nod.

“The wards are ready if you are to leave.” Kallias says, approaching the two. “But I ask you to wait Feyre, Vivianne has something she has for your baby.”

“For Nyx?” Feyre says surprised.

“Some tradition on her region of the court is to gift a protection token to the children of friends once they’re born, she wasn’t familiar with human customs so we were waiting for his first birthday.” Kallias explains, as Rhysand moves standing beside Feyre a curious look in his eyes. “Yet considering all going on she though fitting.”

Vivianne arrives then with a box, “he had to ruin the surprised apparently… here.”

“That’s…” Feyre’s voice is awfully touched before she even opens it, “By the Mother Vivianne is beautiful, thank you.” In her hands was an woven blanket with protective runes in a dark grey color.

“The runes will make sure he’s warm,” Vivianne says with a small smile, “and also will keep the blanket from tangling on him.”

“Thank you.” Rhysand says.

And Ophiuchus has a feeling that something deeper was just resolved by the gifting of the blanket.

Yet the rather peaceful and harmonious atmosphere vanishes when in one second he feels something tightening in his chest, his fingertips feel cold and a noise of glass breaking.

He turns around to find his mate unconscious being held up by Daphne.

“Not again,” Nesta says, beating him to approaching her, as Daphne gets her to one of the chaise chairs in the room.

Nesta is quietly reaching for her wrist and he moves blindly kneeling bedside her trying to figure out what’s wrong. He’s about to ask why all other three sisters seem relatively calm when Reverie’s eyes flutter slightly an soon enough she’s awake again, blinking quickly, a small frown settling on her beautiful face.

“Less than a minute,” Elain says to her.

“Careful,” Nesta says as she helps her sit up.

“Here,” Elain says, handing her a glass of water.

Ophiuchus frowns when her hands are shaking, almost violently as she takes the glass and brings it to her lips.

“Before you ask no she’s not sick, it’s chronic has happened ever since the Calderon and it’s not contagious whatsoever.” Nesta says, her tone cold as she fixes Ophiuchus with a half glare, that reads protectiveness.

“Are you feeling okay?” Ophiuchus ignores the eldest Archeron his focus on his mate.

Reverie nods, but her eyes drop away from his the second they meet, she moves giving back the glass to Elain. “are we to go now?” She asks quietly.

“I believe we are to, unless you don’t feel like traveling yet.”

“No, we can go.” Reverie says.

“We will settle things, give you time to say your farewells,” Ayla says and moves pulling at Ophiuchus arm so he moves.

….

“You sure you’re okay?” Feyre says moving to sit beside Reverie.

“I am,” the female nods and her eyes catch the blanket. “Oh that’s lovely. It’s for Nyx?”

“Viviane’s gift.” Feyre says with a nod, “but Ria, don’t change the subject.”

“As I said to Nesta, I will be fine.” Reverie sighs, “it’s good that it happened here, they know that it’s not that much of a big deal.”

“It will always be a big deal you dropping out of nowhere.” Nesta says shaking her head.

“It will get better, it already is much better,” Elain says quietly, squeezing her sister’s hand.

“Okay…” Feyre breathes in, “you are to write, and warn us if you need something, anything, we shall get it to you.”

“I will.” Reverie nods.

“And if you want to come ba-“

“I will call Nesta,” Reverie reassured once again.

“Just say the word and we get you, Little Sister.” Cassian says.

Reverie nods.

“Nyx will miss you,” Feyre says, softly.

“And I him, but we will meet soon, yeah?”

Feyre nods, “come on we three will walk you to the winnow point.”

The goodbyes to the others are quick but kind and soft. Her sister’s found families, the ones who have treated her with kindness and understanding.

Nesta loops her arm with Reverie’s as they move towards the exit of the winter castle.

“He will take care of you, I feel like.” Nesta says quietly, which coming from her is a lot. “he didn’t waver or blink towards me even when I pushed him, his eyes and attention hasn't left you at any moment. He might be discreet about it but it’s clearly there.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“You’re worried.”

“How couldn’t I be?”

“Fair. You would be foolish not to.” Nesta says, “but in no sugar coating…”

“You wouldn’t do such.”

“No I wouldn’t,” Nesta smiles, “mating bonds are so veneered for a reason. He’ll figure you out, and you him. Things will be okay.”

“I hope so.”

“Well Lainey seems pretty convicted.”

“That’s true.” Reverie replies, as their shoes crunch as they walk over the snowy trail to the place where the Dusk Court members are. 

Chapter Text

Reverie was never good on saying goodbyes.

She remembers being a child and her father going on to his merchant trips, she disliked them very much.

Father wasn’t a saint, but between him and mother at least he didn’t lash out, surely he more than not ignored her existence. But between being belittled and ignored, the lesser bad was the second.

She was never good on goodbyes.

When she went first, being dunked into the Calderon she thought in some twisted way it had been a small mercy, not having to say goodbye to her sisters.

Back than she had been sure it would be the end, as soon as she hit those waters.

She was never good on goodbyes.

Even with all the almost ends, and possible deaths and things that had happened in the last years. She still vehemently dreaded them.

Her sisters were aware of such thing. So it wasn’t really a bad thing when Nesta had squeezed her arm before letting go, Elain kissed her cheeks, and Feyre’s eyes met hers in a silent conversation, a promise of protection no matter what.

She gave them a small smile and walked forward, nervously moving on her own, towards where her mate still stood.

He bid her sisters goodbye with a slight dip of her head, and as Reverie walked down the steps and heard her sisters walking back, she noticed that the court, however, nowhere in sight.

“They went ahead,” Ophiuchus’ commented, upon noticing her gaze searching around, offering his arm to her so she wouldn’t slip on the ice-covered stone steps.

Reverie gave him a small smile before resting her hand on his biceps taking some leverage to walk down the last few steps.

“How are we to go?” She asks him, she doesn’t quite know if he winnows.

“Winnowing, if you’re comfortable.”

“So all High Lords, do Winnow,” Reverie says quietly.

“I do believe it’s a perk intertwined with the position,” he says back, his lips tugging upwards slightly. “Shall we go?”

Reverie inclines her head in agreement tightening her hold on his arm, she feels his hand resting on hers, keeping her hold on him, and then everything melts and unravels like watercolors.

For a second all she can feel is his hand, closing her eyes upon the swirl of colors, light and darkness. As the world tips and she feels like free falling before her feet once again find the ground.

She slowly opened her eyes, trying to deal with the slight dizziness from winnowing. The room she was in was well lived in that’s for sure. Books lined shelves that ran from floor to ceiling, some books and papers over a desk. A large bed draped in dark silk sheets, with a canopy of a lighter fabric a contrast to the furs that rest by the end of the bed, that billowed in the slight wind that moved across the room due to the large opened floor to ceiling windows opposite to the wall that held the bookshelves and a fireplace. She realized then that not only the fireplace was sculpted into stone but so were the bookshelves. Dark marble, as the floor was wood. A dark one that looked like mahogany.

She realized she had been quietly staring around, and not saying anything at all, so she snapped her head back towards Ophiuchus, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, but only found him looking at her with a small smile.

“Come,” he says, waiting for her to move, before he starts to walk.

Leading her towards the balcony that the large windows lead to, as soon as they step into it she’s able to see a beautiful city, vast lands, and the sea.

Buildings of stone that look old as time, bustling noise of a city. Laugher of children, conversations of adults, music.

Her eyes widen in wonder as she takes everything in. For once grateful for the Fae senses that allowed her to take everything in with acute, meticulous detail.

As the breeze moves through her, tugging at her curls, ringing at her ears.

The wind sings promises of old, promises lost eons ago. Everything feels so alive.

She feels so alive.

The breeze that moves through her holds the scent of salt water, and oranges mix with the scent of the male beside her.

She feels at home. It feels oddly like a homecoming.

She feels at peace.

“Welcome to the Dusk Court, My Lady,” Ophiuchus whispers, eyes not leaving her face, he wants to fully engrave her reaction in his memory. “To Euryphaessa, to be more exact.”

Chapter Text

She has no words to describe how beautiful the court looks. She has no idea how to say it, so she settles with stating the obvious.

“It’s breathtaking.” She says eyes tracing everything that she can, hands resting on the stone railing of the balcony, tracing the patterns carved into it.

“Yes, it is,” Ophiuchus's voice reaches her ears, “although I might be biased in saying so.”

“I do not believe it’s bias, merely a truth,” Reverie comments lightly before turning her head, and finding Ophiuchus already looking at her.

“Euryphaessa is the biggest city of Dusk. We have some smaller villages but most of the population is here.”

“Considering it seems to sprawl beyond where the eye can see I believe you,” Reverie says softly, eyes tracking how there are what looks like more quiet neighborhoods and more spaced out houses, by the outline of the city.

Another thing she hadn’t quite get used to, Fae senses, how overwhelming they can be sometimes.

“With the dome, my grandparents found it was a better outcome. We had the sea for resources, the countryside for crops and planting.” He explains. “They practically redid the whole city.”

“They sound like great rulers,” Reverie says quietly.

“Beloved too, very much so,” Ophiuchus comments with a bittersweet smile. “Both geniuses in their own way, they balanced each other almost perfectly.”

Reverie nods, eyes moving once again through the city, the wind blows again, and oddly it almost seems like a hug.

They silently watch for a while, she’s thoroughly enchanted by the view, even as a slight fog begins to appear and slowly the bustling sounds fall quieter. Slowly she begins to wonder if he’s bored, he probably has seen this view a thousand times over, it’s his city after all. Another realization follows, striking her like lightning. This is probably his bedroom… she feels her heart slowly picking up its pace. But she keeps her eyes on the city as she thinks.

Overthinks, if she’s being completely honest with herself.

Were those empty promises? What does he expect from her and how soon?

He’s a high lord, he probably wants children to keep his line. He’s also a male and well… technically he doesn’t owe her love. Mates even mates sometimes don’t hold love between them.

Does he have lovers? Ones he holds dear to his heart?

He’s way older than you, Reverie. Of course, he had lovers.

Had and has are different. One is one thing, the other is totally different. And-

She feels a hand being placed over hers, fingers brushing against her knuckles.

“What troubles you?” His voice is kind, as kind as it was when he first spoke to her. “You seem more lost in your head than watching for the last couple of minutes.”

“I-“ she mumbles, nervously, “forgive me.”

“I’m not reprimanding you, nor am I mad. Just wondering, you don’t have to share if you don’t wish to.” He says taking her hand in his now, his body fully turned towards her, arm keeping his weight by the railing of the balcony as he leans over it, his hand holding her hand.

“Um… this is your room,” she comments quietly, trying to keep her blush under her cheek, and feeling that she’s failing terribly.

“I- yes?” He asks with a small frown, “I figured it was better than having to walk the whole way up here. You seemed cold.”

Reverie can’t help but look surprised, “I was…” 

“I’m missing something here.” He admits that he’s confused about what is troubling her.

“No. I just. I was human before…” She says quietly, “it wasn’t…I know we are mates but it wasn’t proper for me to be in a men- male room.”

“Are you uncomfortable?” Ophiuchus asks, tone more serious, “I will arrange you a room for yourself only, in a heartbeat if you are.”

“I- no,” Reverie mumbles quietly because she isn’t. She feels safe, even though she’s reluctant and half terrified if she’s honest. What she does know is that she doesn’t want to be away from him.

“Okay.” Ophiuchus says, “Then what troubles you?”

“Do you have any lovers?” Reverie splutters out before she lets her nerves get to her.

Ophiuchus's whole face changes into realization, and he looks at her, almost as if he can see her very soul.

Reverie nods is now stressing her lower lip with her teeth, worry heightening.

He doesn’t seem mad at least. He doesn’t seem angry.

Ophiuchus moves, and he’s standing to his full height, towering over her. He brings her hand to his lips, brushing against her knuckles.

“I do not,” Ophiuchus says, “I haven’t for a very long time now. Since I began dreaming of a female whose laughter sounded like pure joy and whose eyes looked like the early morning sun.”

Reverie feels her face burning, and it doesn’t help that Ophiuchus’ hands move to cup her face, delicately, almost as if she’s made of something precious.

“I mentioned it before non directly but… I’m a patient male, Reverie. We are to do this at your pace. We have long lives, immortality, and all. I’ve waited for you for sometime and I do not mind waiting until you’re comfortable. I want to know you thoroughly, any and everything you wish to share with me.”

Reverie nods at his words, she has no idea how to reply to that.

He gives her a small smile before he leans. Lips pressed against her forehead and Reverie’s lips parted and her eyes widened slightly.

“And if you’re not okay with sharing this room with me, I mean it. I don’t mind arranging one for you.”

Reverie shakes her head, “no… I- it’s okay. I’m just not used to sharing a bed with a male.”

Ophiuchus barely manages to hold back the pure male growl that threatens to leave him, her words delight him in a way. Part of him knows he had no claim over her, but the part of him, the more Feral Fae part, the one that the bond seems to have awakened into something even more possessive, is ever so delighted.

“Well, be well known I intend to be a gentleman,” Ophiuchus says, letting go of her face, “and the bed is huge. You don’t need to be near me if you don’t wish to.”

Reverie shakes her head slightly, “It’s okay,” I like being near you , she adds in her head.

Ophiuchus nods, that small smile appearing on his lips again, “I would offer you a tour of the court but I do believe it’s better done in the morning, after some rest. It has been a rather long day.”

Reverie nods, she woke up today in her bedroom in her sister’s house in Velaris at the Heart of the Night Court. Now she’s in her mate’s bedroom, at the not even known Dusk Court. A court he’s the High Lord of.

“Knowing Elia and Daphne, they probably have sent a plethora of clothes to my closet, until your things arrive and until we go into town tomorrow so you can buy whatever you wish,” Ophiuchus says.

“Oh there’s no need-“

“Yes, there is. The climate here is different than at night. And I don’t wish for you to simply spend your time in borrowed clothes that do not fit your taste.” Ophiuchus, tilts his head slightly, letting out a melodramatic sigh, “The girls would’ve my head, and so would my cousin. You cherish the moments you still have without knowing the nuisance.”

Reverie can’t help the slight giggle that leaves her.

“You laugh now, wait until you meet him, aggravating doesn’t even cover it.” Ophiuchus’ says, “but he’s family. And very much more like an older brother. He’ll be delighted to meet you.”

Reverie smiles at the words.

Chapter Text

Ophiuchus had left. He had to arrange a few things at court, a letter had arrived just as he showed her the bathroom, which held a pool of a bathtub carved into dark stone, and his larger-than-life closet.

He did only leave after she had told him she’d be okay, and as soon as the door closed Reverie exhaled heavily looking at herself in the mirror of the bathroom, leaning against the wall behind her, her shoulders dropping.

Don’t panic, don’t panic. She said to herself, as she allowed herself to process everything that happened in the last twelve hours. Most of it… things she thought she would never have. She had in a way made peace with the fact that the Calderon probably hadn’t bothered to give her a mate, that she might never have someone like her sisters did… and now that she does she’s half terrified. Part of her wishes she had these conversations with her sisters, she knows the basics about mating bonds and relationships, but it’s overwhelming. Almost as overwhelming as being made Fae. It’s a lot of changes, a lot of things happening at once. After what felt like a lifetime but was probably a few minutes she moved towards the closet and the boxes that held  pristinely folded clothing for her.

Her cheeks flushed when she opened the one that held some underthings. Human morality is something that isn’t the same as Fae one, they’re very much more open about desires and about showing skin, even in the more demure courts.

Night clothing was different than Day and Summer and Dawn and those to Autumn and Spring and Winter. Some more modest in dressing, some more daring. From what she’d seen, Dusk seemed to trail all lines, even considering that they were dressed for winter, it was clear that their clothing was different from the other courts.

But the underthings in this box, would probably have the most free minded human throughly scandalized. Lace and practically sheer. And the nightgown was matching, and very very short.

She fidgets with the fabric before folding it again, it is beautiful she has to admit. And she’d seen Nesta buy something similar to it, in one of the shops of Velaris, but she didn’t think she was that daring. It showed far more skin than what she’s anywhere comfortable with.

Far too more skin than she’d allow herself to show, specially since…

Reverie shook her head, pushing the dark cloud of thoughts away.

Maybe someday, she thought, as she folded it.

She then pulled out another dress, one whose fabric was still light, probably linen if she were to guess, but not sheer like the previous one. It held a shapeless silhouette with a crochet-like detail at the neckline trim, and was long enough to reach her ankles, it felt comfortable enough.

She moved grabbing the slip and moving to the bathroom so she could bathe before Ophiuchus returned and not be bothersome in his routine. More than she knew she was already being, in a way.

The male certainly hadn’t expected to meet her at the High Lord meeting. And she couldn’t fault him. How surreal it was to walk in a place and find someone that was your match by the eyes of the mother and Calderon?

….

She is carefully threading her fingers through her damp curls, after folding the clothes that she was previously wearing sitting on the chair of his room when Ophiuchus’ comes back—holding two mugs, which piques her curiosity.

His eyes trail her hair for a beat longer than one would normally consider just glancing, but not long enough for it to be deemed as staring.

“Hot cocoa,” Ophiuchus says, offering her one of the mugs. “It has some spices on it, traditional to dusk recipe. Anise, cinnamon, and cloves.”

Reverie eyes the mug with a bit of trepidation.

Isn’t this…?

“What is it?” He asks as he looks at her confused, she’s looking at it as if the mug is a ball of fire.

Maybe she’s allergic to something he just mentioned? He thinks trying to make sense out of it.

“I… you’re not supposed to give me food,” she says in a whisper, her cheeks turning a deep rouge, as anxiety blooms in her chest.

Ophiuchus frowns at her statement and it’s about to ask if that’s a human custom that he never heard about, before realization downs into him.

“There has to be the intention behind it,” his face softening, as he wills his voice into a equally soft tone, “I promised you time, Reverie. And I meant it.”

Reverie nods, looking down in shame.

Stupid girl, he’s nice and you’re here offending him.

“I…-“

“You don’t know me,” Ophiuchus cuts her off, “you don’t need to apologize for having your guard up, or for being wary.”

Reverie nods, taking the mug, fingers fidgeting with it slightly before she raises it to her lips, quietly humming at the warmth provided by the drink.

“Good?”

“Yes.” Reverie nods, “thank you.”

“I will go get ready for bed, you can go ahead and lay down if you wish.” He adds, taking a sip from his mug.

“I don’t know what side you prefer to sleep in,” Reverie says, tracing her mug with her fingers.

“Oh,” Ophiuchus says with a surprised look, “well I don’t have a preference… so take your pick.”

Reverie gives him a small nod, and he walks into his closet towards the bathroom.

She places the mug on one of the bedside tables and climbs into bed, arranging the blankets to cover herself. She lays down slightly, fully intending to wait for Ophiuchus so maybe they can talk about… anything really. But she’s warm, and she feels so at peace — a degree of peace she hasn’t felt in so long — and calm that her eyelids begin to feel heavy.

And when Ophiuchus comes back into the room, she’s fast asleep.

Ophiuchus sighs, looking at her sleeping form, moving his robe placing it over the chair’s back before he approaches the bed.

This female will be the death of me, he thinks, running a hand through his hair, using his magic to ward the cold out of the room and to blow out the candles.

His eyes flicker across her sleeping face, at the dim starlight, his fingers itch to move and grace her face, to brush her hair away from her cheek and place it behind her ear, to lean in and kiss her forehead, but he moves doing none of that but lies down in bed. Looking at her, as his mind runs around.

Talk about a day.

Chapter Text

Bone chilling fear, the pained feeling of someone painfully holding her arm, the coldness of the room that her nightgown does nothing to ward off. 

She wants out of here, she wants all her sisters to be okay, she’s confused, she’s terrified, so much so she can’t even process what is being said.

She hears her name being screamed by Nesta.

And then nothing.

Nothing at all as she hits the water.

Is it even water?

It doesn’t feel like it. No it feels like nothing and something, that has her even more panicked. Has her heart beating like the crackling of thunder in her chest.

It’s all dark, all cold and warm

‘Oh what are you?’ A voice that comes from nowhere and everywhere echoes, it doesn’t sound like anything she ever heard. It sounds almost as if there’s a thousand voices into one.

She curls her body into herself as she listens to it, hoping it goes way.

‘Oh aren’t you sweet, thinking you can hide.’ It practically purrs, and such statement does nothing to bring her ease, not at all, if anything it has her even more terrified. Something trails along her body, wherever she is beginning to feel a lot more like water now.

She’s screaming, even though there’s no sound for it, begging, she wants out of here, she wants out.

It’s burning, it’s freezing.

Please please please please. 

…..

A cold chill against his arm, and the overwhelming scent of fear and distress is what brings Ophiuchus slowly out of his sleep, but what does make his eyes snap open is the sound of pained whimpers, quickening breath and gasps. 

As soon as he brain registers he is sitting up, completely awake. He looks to his side and sure enough Reverie is curled up, visibly trembling and shivering. Her face scrunched up in a mix of pain and discomfort, her hair glued to her forehead because of sweat. 

“Reverie…” Ophiuchus calls quietly tuning his body towards her and kneeling in the bed. 

If she was able to hear him at all, her features don’t show it. She’s still shivering, still curled, a pained noise moving from her lips, that makes anguish and protectiveness raise in Ophiuchus chest. He doesn’t know what he has to do to fix it, but he sure as hell can’t stand seeing her like this. 

“Reverie,”he repeats, hand touching her arm, that is rather warm. But before he can even process it, she startles awake, eyes wide and terrified, clinging up to his arm with a deadly grip like a lifeline. 

Her eyes beside being completely terrified are unseeing. She’s breathing as if she ran for hours.

”Reverie,” he says to her, his voice as soft as he can will it, as he moves pulling her closer to him. 

She’s trembling in his hold, practically curled up in his lap, and Ophiuchus’ mind is running trying to figure out how to snap her out of it and bring her to here and now. He moves his hands, cradling her face, tilting so his eyes are looking at her. 

“Reverie,” he calls in a louder tone, High Lord Command moving into his voice, “look at me.”  

It was as if he didn’t say anything at all. Her eyes still voided and she’s trembling, a sob escaping her lips.  

He moves his thumbs brushing against her cheekbones, “you’re okay, you’re safe.” he says softly, hoping, praying quietly that those words reach her, midst the daze. “It’s probably around four in the morning, the sun hasn’t awoken yet, you’re in Euryphaessa, at Dusk Court in Prythian. You’re eight and ten. Wherever you are seeing, wherever you are… you’re not there anymore.” 

He sees some awareness returning to her eyes as she blinks, and her extreme ragged breathing seems to be slowly becoming closer to a usual pace. He keeps the motion of his thumbs, “you’re okay, breathe.”

“Breathe,” he repeats when he notices her trying to do so.  

She is still clinging to his arm as if the hold is the only thing keeping her form falling back into whatever was bringing her so much distress. 

Her head lulls forward, and her forehead rests against his chest, as his hands keep a hold of her face, her shoulders slump, and she’s still trembling. 

“I- im so sorry,” her voice comes in a heartbreaking mumble, that has Ophiuchus feeling as if he has been stabbed, “i-…”she pulls back a bit, gulping and tilts her head to look up at him, “im sorry for waking you up and-“she stops her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the nail marks that her grip left on her skin, and he can see and smell her panic flaring up. 

“breathe,” he says again, reaching for her face and tilting it up so she’s looking at his eyes knowing he means his every words, “you have absolutely nothing, nothing to be sorry for,” he begins, “and that will heal soon, perks of fae healing, it’s okay. I rather that happen then you loose yourself in whatever was troubling you for longer.” 

She just merely stares at him, present but she doesn’t say anything back to his words. Merely nods. Ophiuchus moves brushing stray stands of hair away form her face, “how are you feeling?”

She hesitates, she clearly hesitates, so much he can feel it in his gut bond or not, he stares into her eyes, there’s a large beat of silence between them. “not…good,” she says in response. 

He hums, hands moving from her face to move up and down her arms, she’s cold now, so fucking cold to the touch, it almost makes him forget that she was burning minutes earlier. She tenses slightly at the action, and he’s about to pull away when a long exhale leaves her. 

“What do you do normally? When you’re not feeling okay?” He asks, hands keeping their grounding motion at her arms. 

She shrugs, and something tells him, that she’s not used to telling anyone when she’s not feeling okay. 

“we can stay here for the day if you want,” he begins tracking her reaction, “i understand a lot of things happened in the last twenty four hours.”

He isn’t even done with speaking and she’s already shaking her head, “you have a court to run, and probably a lot of things to do, i am okay and it’s really nothing just a-“

“Reverie,” Ophiuchus cuts her off with a serious tone, “you’re allowed not to be okay.”

She stops looking at him, and for a second something crosses her eyes, he isn’t sure what. 

“We can stay here, yes there’s a court too run but no emergencies, the world wont end if i take a break.” Ophiuchus reasons, “the scholars are tackling the Kochei situation, and besides i was taking a break today to show you around.”

She nods, he eyes falling to her hands, as the trace the bedsheets slightly, as if in deep thought, and he let’s her, still watching her with a keen eye but let’s her have the moment to herself. 

“can we still go?” Reverie’s voice comes, and it’s so tentative that Ophiuchus has a half mind to send a letter to her sisters and ask for a list on whomever hurt her. “I… i would like to go.”

“We can do whatever you’d like,” Ophiuchus says, hoping he has put enough truth in his voice, his eyes catch the sky on the windows as he looks at her, “as a matter of fact there’s something,”he begins standing up, and walking around the bed, offering a hand for her to take, “there’s something you should see.”

She raises and eyebrow but takes his hand, and lets him guide her, they move back to the balcony, and she looks at him curiously, specially since the sky is still rather dark.

“the sun will come up in a bit,” he says, eyes looking at the sky and then moving to her. 

Reverie nods, hands resting on the railing, as she looks, the town bellow is quiet but she can still see faelights here and there, wind moves through her hair a bit, but she’s far to busy taking in the little details she hasn’t seen before, and then slowly but surely, the first rays on sunlight come. 

Light begins to bloom, in the promise of a new day, in the promise of an unknown realm, of a unknown amount of possibilities, of a presence that makes her feel safe, Reverie allows herself to hope. Reverie allows herself to let the light, and the buzz of the still so new court to warm her. 

She allows herself, to live. 

Chapter Text

Ophiuchus watches her, he stays jus behind her watching her.

He watches as her shoulders loosen slightly, as her eyes take in the view, as she leans against the railing raking in the details and the looming darkness of the nightmare seemingly vanishes as she basks into the early streams of sunlight.

“why oranges?” She asks out of nowhere and Ophiuchus almost falls back when she suddenly turns around to face him.

“forgive me?”

“Oranges,” She repeats herself, “there’s a lot of orange blossoms and when i… when i dreamed of here i dreamed of a clearing with a lot of orange trees, so why?”

He opens his mouth to answer, before he stays stuck in a part of what she said, “you dreamt of here?”

Her cheeks go a delightful shade of rouge, “i thought Ayla had told you about that.”

“No, no she didn’t…” Ophiuchus says, “so i wasn’t the only one having dreams?”

“No,” Reverie replies, cheeks burning, she still hadn’t gotten over him saying that he dreamed of her, of her eyes before they met.

“They’re actually native form here,” Ophiuchus ends up answering, realizing she went quiet and was blushing away, putting her out of her spiral of thoughts, if the amount of feelings that were ever so slightly present in his chest were anything to go by, “all the orange trees that are around Pythian technically started from Dusk Court seeds. Oranges are very present in our cuisine.”

“Oh,” Reverie says, “that’s quite nice.”

Ophiuchus hums with a smile, “there isn’t many things better than fresh orange juice on a warm day.”

Reverie giggles at that, “well that is very much true.”

“But yes… the oranges are native to here, so that’s why there is such high abundance,” Ophiuchus says.

Reverie hums the sun catches in her white hair, allowing Ophiuchus see the gold-ish hue on it.

“Should we go and look around for a bit?” He offers.

Reverie nods with a small smile on her lips.

….

Euryphaessea was breath of fresh air. It was calm and lively and warm. They moved down the hill on horseback. Reverie had almost happily bounced towards the horses when Ophiuchus said it was the best way to do the descent other than winnowing.

He had indicated her to a sweet mare who gently moves her head against her hand when she approached her.

“Her name is Amets,” Ophiuchus had spoken.

“Well hello Amets,” Reverie had commented softly.

The mare then seemed far too okay with her, and she with Ophiuchus help was on horseback, him suddenly on his own horse, both started the track down the hill.

Reverie’s eyes moved taking everything in, all the flora and fauna, the cobblestone way, the little faelight lamps, now dim and merely absorbing sunlight.

“You did not tell me his name,” she comments to Ophiuchus after a larger beat of silence between them as she had been looking around, she tilts her head his way to find him already looking at her, “Itzal,”

“Your voice cadence changes when you say his name too, im assuming both are in a specific language?”

“The older tongue, it’s a dusk tradition in some instances, horses are protectors in a way, sometimes better than swords. So they have meaningful names. Itzal means protection and Amets… well hers means dream.”

Reverie nods, hands brushing against some leaves that reach down overhead in a branch, “so everyone is fluent in it, here?”

“In some ways, i suppose fluent isn’t completely true, most are just capable of understanding it. But it is common around here to throw. A couple of words in it every now and then in phrases come up, i suppose to some extant, a result of us being cut out form the world.”

“That’s how dialects tend to end up being formed, Velaris also has a certain accent compared to the rest of Pyrthian, at least as much as I have had contact with, they do say some words with an cadence.”

“I suppose the night court also holds a lot of influence coming from Illyria.”

Reverie hums.

“What about you and your sisters?”

“What about us?”

“You did live on the other side of the wall, you four don’t seem to have that different of a accent,”

“We are.. were from a smaller ish village, our father…” Reverie trails off a bit, “he was a merchant, i suppose he actually was the one that held the most different accent i have ever encountered, a mix and match of where he learned what i supposed.”

A small smile is on her lips at the memory, “it was comforting, old words that made no sense to anyone but us four. My mother despised it, chastised him whenever he spoke words out of the conventional.”

Mother despised pretty much everything and anything, Reverie adds in her mind. Her eyes moving to look around once more as her mid grew a bit to loud in racing thoughts for her liking.

“Were you close? You and im i mean,” Ophiuchus questions.

“Not really,” Reverie says, “nowhere close to where i would’ve liked as a kid, but al not as detached as i wished for as a teenager. In the end i suppose he was a good man, but he also did not do a lot of things a father should’ve done for his children.”

Ophiuchus nods.

“But the man decides to be a hero, so he gets himself killed in the war. Closure was hard to get, is.”

Ophiuchus nods, “and her?”

“I’m everything she hated, i was very young when she passed it that much i know. She didn’t love anything, i don’t think she did. But she loved cruel words and games. She loved to try and pit us against each other, loved control and…” Reverie exhales, “it was horrible, her death i mean, losing a parent always is i suppose, and her death was cruel, she wasted away, but… i think i speak for me and all my sisters when i say that it felt easier to breathe, as awful as it sounds.”

“It’s not awful if she was awful to all of you,” Ophiuchus comments.

“Maybe,” Reverie says, eyes on the road forward, “sometimes it does few cruel to voice those feelings out loud, as cruel as she was awful and then sometimes it’s just a… light as a feather feeling…”

Ophiuchus hums.

“Sorry, this is supposed to be nice, you’re showing me your court and here i am dwelling on things that happened over twelve years ago.”

“You’re allowed to feel, grief isn’t always simple, and doesn’t have a time frame at all, you can grieve for what ifs or hate what was.”

“I hate letting her have any say on anything, but she…’ Reverie shakes her head, and her eyes lit up curiously as they reach the entrance of Euryphaessa.

Noticing it was probably a sign that she no longer wished to talk about it, Ophiuchus concedes at least for the time being on letting the conversation girl.

“Well, My lady, i suppose we do have a tour to make, and a city for you to be acquainted with.”