Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

TW- Implied SA

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Ma was scared again. She'd told me not to come out of the closet like she always did. The closet scared me, so I didn't stay in the closet. She wouldn't be mad at me, she wouldn't want to scare me. I never stayed in the closet
Ma was outside, she was yelling.
I pull myself up the windowsill, looking for her. He was outside with her, the red-haired man, I didn't like him.
He hurt my ma, and made her sad.
He was pulling her by her hair now, and smoke curled away from her skin. He was burning her again.
I couldn't hear what he was saying but I knew whatever it was made my mom angry. She was angry, but she was even more scared.
I wished I had stayed in the closet, but Mama needed me.
I couldn't leave her alone. So I waited by the window until he left. I wanted to hug her, but she didn't like when I touched her anymore.
She wouldn't know I was there, but I wouldn't leave her. Ma protected me, so I would protect her too, always.

~2 years later~
The red-haired man stopped bothering us eventually, but Ma was still sad.
I had a sister now, I don't think Ma loved her as much as I did. I loved her a lot.
She was my baby, I was her big brother, and I would make sure she was never sad like Mama was.
She was so little, I worried I would break her sometimes.
She looked like the red-haired man, I didn't like that.
She had his magic too, it scared me, but she was my baby sister. Even when she burned me, I couldn't be mad at her like Ma was. I had to keep her safe.
Ma called her Blair. It fit her, her and her sparking magic.
When Ma had left me at the camp, I made a vow to become the strongest I could be. My Pa wasn't a hero, he was a villain, Blair's Pa was the same.
I was going to be the hero, the kind from the stories. I would save them from men like the one with the red hair

Chapter Text

*✧*✵*✴**✴ Blair ✴ *🟍*✧*✵*✴*

The Hewn City was both better and worse than Illyria. It was a even trade off. In Illyria I couldn't blend in, Stonefall had been large but not large enough that people wouldn't remember something, or in my case someone, other. I stood out like a flare with my auburn hair, even if it was dark, and my freckles face. My pointed half-high fae ears had made matters worse for me as well. No, I couldn't have stayed in Ironcrest even if I had wanted to, but the Hewn City wasn't much better.

Here I was forgettable, but so was everyone else, and I wasn't the only one taking advantage of that. Here I was just as likely to have my wallet stolen by a passerby as I was to steal theirs.

It was safer here though, dodging fellow thieves and an absentee authority figure was much easier than dodging bored guards in a war camp.

I wasn't safe here, but I was safer, and that's all that matters now.

Decades of saving and planning are the only reasons I didn't share my mother's fate. That and my ability to pass as High Fae, or at least demi-fae, after a little bit of practice hiding my wings.

I duck under a lower doorway and into the familiar shop. "Blair! It's been far too long!" The fae woman at the counter croons.

I roll my eyes and head for the counter, dumping out pockets full of jewelry that's about to meet an unfortunate fate. I watched as Portia studied the collection, dark eyes greedy.

"I'll give you 50 marks," she announced, the thick plume of black feathers I had once assumed was fake ruffling as she pawed through her cash box.

"The store across the street offered 75." I bluff, I hadn't gone into that place since the owner had suggested I pay with something other than gold for my purchase. The guy had always given me the creeps and I had other buyers, so I'd left and never looked back. That didn't mean I was above lying, it was half my job.

"60" the raven feathered female concedes, I agree, counting and packing away the coins before I leave again.

As soon as I'm outside, or as close to outside as I can get under this mountain, I pull my hood up and slip into the crowd, becoming nothing but a forgotten face in the everyday chaos of the city.

I am not a slob, that much can be said for me. Growing up with Ma the house had been a perpetual mess of mold and dust, I had promised myself I would never become that. I'd known she'd had a hard life, I knew I wasn't some blessing either. I had come from pain and loss, I was lucky she had taken care of me as a child, as she had told me more than once. She hadn't done much, just made sure I didn't starve, she was too far gone to be a mother to me.

She was gone now, worked to death is what Commander Egil would tell anyone who cares to ask, but I had seen her body.
The charred remains. I knew the difference between my magic and natural fire. This hadn't been natural, it had looked like my flames, but it hadn't been.
I loved my mother despite everything and her loss devastated me. Egil had trusted that, or more likely, hadn't cared to investigate. None of them had cared that she died but they did care that I could turn them into toast if I wished. That's why I'd had to leave.

I'd been just under 70 when she died, and spent the next 100 years in Ironcrest, safely away from the accusations. Until Egil found me, and told the Ironcrest commander about my father. The mild disdain that came with being a female in an Illyian camp became inescapable outright hatred when they learned I wasn't even full Illyrian.

It had taken me half a century to get out. I'd worked several jobs and attended training as often as I could. By that time I had saved up and found a way to get out. I flew straight for The Hewn City.

My only other option was Autumn and I would be as much of an outcast there as I had been in Ironcrest and Stonefall.

I just wanted safety, a simple nondescript life where I wouldn't have to steal.

When I'd first moved here I had started working at Daray's, a restaurant a few blocks from the court of nightmares, and it normally covered the bills just fine, but these past few months had been rough.

I'd been sick for a week, bad enough that I'd pulled myself to see a healer, and after that expensive visit, there were 70 marks worth of medication that I needed.

I'd picked a few pockets to make up that difference and made less than half of the sum I'd originally paid.

I was just happy I still had a roof over my head, and if I had to break a few laws to keep it, so be it.

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"Morning Baby" a familiar male voice whispers against my neck, leaving a trail of kisses across my jaw. I stretch and peel my eyes open to meet Kain's bright blue gaze. I smile contentedly and push myself off the pillow to kiss him.

"Morning Kay" I hum before pressing my hands to his chest and pushing him back so I can get up. "What time did you get home?" I snag the button-up shirt and slacks of my uniform from the dresser drawer.

"Late, you headed to Ray's?" He asks, following my lead and sliding off my bed to find a fresh set of clothes.

"Yeah, I'm off at 8, planning to swing by the market on the way home. Do you need anything?" I ask as I start changing.

"I don't think so." I'm just finished buttoning my shirt when I feel his cool arms wrap around my waist, pinning my wings to my back awkwardly. He dips his head and leaves a kiss behind my ear. "I'll miss you today, have fun at work."

"I'll see you tonight right?" I ask, leaning back into his chest. I hear his tired sigh as he releases me. I twist to look at him.

"I work late, I'm probably just gonna stay at my place tonight." I give him a sympathetic smile.

Kain worked at the trading posts, I'd never known exactly what he traded, but it wasn't uncommon for shipments to come in late at night so I was assuming it wasn't High Lord approved.

The only issues his work had ever caused us were the constant late nights, though usually he still came back to my place so we could at least have a few moments in the morning like we did today.

“Saturday then.” I declare, lifting on my toes just a bit to give him one last kiss. Before he has time to respond I’ve twirled out of his reach and am halfway to the door. I force my wings to disappear, I haven’t flown in so long it’s almost painful. I turn to wink at Kain before I step out of my apartment and into the quiet hallway.

Kain worked at the trading posts, I'd never known exactly what he traded, but it wasn't uncommon for shipments to come in late at night so I was assuming it wasn't High Lord approved.

The only issues his work had ever caused us were the constant late nights, though usually he still came back to my place so we could at least have a few moments in the morning like we did today.

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Daray's is innocent-looking on the surface, and many of our customers are just average citizens stuck in the Hewn City, but the rest are what makes this place infamous. Smugglers.

No one would guess that the cozy window front restaurant on Main Street was anything to watch out for but I've watched countless fae who do business here waste away, just as I've watched a few become so absorbed by the life of crime that they confuse it with privilege.

Better than Illyria, worse than anywhere else. That's what the Hewn City was. I get busy, wiping down tables, burning any incriminating objects that have been left behind, and masking the scents as best as I can. Counting the minutes until my shift ends.

By the time I would normally get off though, the place is packed. Tonight is nothing special that I know of, and it's just a bunch of the regulars, but when I see the look on Mia's face I can't leave her here alone. The other waitress was thirty minutes late and the sweet little nymph girl would be swamped if I left her here alone.

"I'm leaving as soon as this crowd dies out," I tell her, retying my apron strings taking one of the completed orders off the counter, and weaving my way through the crowd to find its table.

I like Mia, she's worked here for 50 years now and worked with me most Fridays, and she was as close to a best friend as I'd had since I was a child. She'd been born in Summer Court but moved here as a child when her mother married one of the dark bringers.

I duck back into the kitchen, binding my pin-straight hair into a bun that, if I'm lucky, should give it some volume when I take it out later, and picking up the next set of orders.

Things blur together for a while and the next time I turn towards the dining room is when a familiar male scent finds me.

Kain is seated at a table in the back corner, flipping through a menu idly. I smile, deciding to go out and say hi, just as a petite high fae with waves of soft pink hair walks up to his table. His smile is blinding, the kind that made me melt when he directed it my way. She leans into him, placing a soft kiss on his lips. My stomach churns and I force myself to look away, I could deal with this later. I didn't know the full story. There was some explanation.

I could tell myself whatever I wanted, but I couldn't stop the feeling of betrayal, the anger. I slip back into the kitchen quickly, handing the trays to Mia. She lifts and eyebrow at me curiously.

"I just need a people break, I'm gonna help with the food prep for bit." Mia smiles at me sympathetically, she doesn't know who Kain was, but she understands the need to get away from people.

"No worries." Her voice is soft and musical, everything about her is like that, the rough tree bark of her skin and wild dark curls decorated with blossoms make her radiant in the dim lighting under this mountain.
I tie an apron back around my waist, and Mia rushes back out to wait on the other tables.
Bayon nods me towards a fresh pile of chicken and I wash my hands before beginning to butterfly and pound each piece. I let the mallet fall hard against the meat, picturing it as my father's face, or maybe Egil, and Kain's, definitely Kain's. I have no proof, and no room in my life for revenge, anyway but this feels good. This is harmless. I can be mad, I just have to be reasonable by the time I am face-to-face with them.

"What's that bird ever done to you?" A booming voice calls from the counter and I startle, dropping the mallet and spinning to look at the giant Illyrian male, seven red siphons adorning his leathers. The High Lords General.

"Nothing it could've changed, it just resembles a few people I know," I call back with an overly sweet smile. He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"And may I ask which chicken-faced fae you're referring to?" I raise an eyebrow, giving him a confused stare.

"Why do you want to know?" I ask cautiously.

"Curiosity?" he replies and it is almost like a question. I roll my eyes, not like my grudges are anything out of the ordinary.

"My father, my potential ex-boyfriend, and Lord Egil." I answer, returning to my task.

“Lord Egil? He does look slightly bird-ish, what was a high fae like you doing in Stonefall though?” I stiffen but answer truthfully.

"My mother was Illyrian, I left when she died." The chicken is looking extremely thin before I remember to grab a fresh piece. At the very least this is a welcome distraction.

"Hm, and who is your father?" I scoff and give him a look.

"Bold of you to assume I know his name." I finish the chicken and drop the tub with Bayon. I wash my hands and head out to the counter where the General is waiting.

"Do you?" He questions. I tuck my hands into my pockets. Tilting my head from side to side I answer.
The answer is probably yes, I have everything but actual confirmation because that is the last conversation I want to have.

"I have a good idea, and I'm not visiting the Autumn court anytime soon." The General's entire body goes rigid and I wait for him to say something, to continue this odd interaction, but when he finally speaks it is as if the last few minutes never happened.

"Do you think we could get refills?" he nods to the 2 empty glasses on a table by the window. I hold up a finger for him to wait a minute, grabbing a pitcher of water and handing it to him.

It is 30 minutes before the next shift comes in, and I am out the back door and down the street the second they get their aprons tied.

Chapter Text

Cassian
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It wasn’t her, right? It couldn’t be her, but looking at the auburn-haired fae woman I had to wonder. Everything about her, down to the name, fit. I shouldn't have spoken to her, but I couldn't help the curiosity, she’d just looked so familiar, and I was sure now.

She was from StonefallI, and had implied her father was from Autumn. This Blair was my Blair.
Az had been watching me since I came back from the counter, shadows thicker than I've seen them since Rhys first became high lord.

“So what'd I miss?” I ask, refilling our glasses as I speak.

“What was that Cassian?” Azriel's voice is low and cautious, I shrug acting indifferent. I would tell my brothers everything after I'd told my sister.

“Just small talk, you do know what that is right Az?” I ask, deflecting sure, but I know it works when Azriel’s eyes narrow in annoyance. He opens his mouth to protest but comes up without defense.

“Mother help me,” he groans, taking a swig from his glass of water. “We should probably head out before Amren eats Rhys alive.”

I nod, gesturing for the bill. Instead of Blair, a short female with rough tree-bark skin and wild dark hair comes to our table.

“Keir was particularly delightful this afternoon, don't you think?” I ask once we’re on the sidewalk. Azriel’s face remains blank but he nods absently.

“It was borderline hilarious.” I continue, thinking of the stewards' blustering expression when Az and I had shown up unannounced to review the Darkbringers.

Azriel is in a mood though and has no patience for me.

“Let’s get going,” he mutters and I grab onto his shoulder a second before he shadow-walks us out of the City and drops us a hundred feet above the dense forest.

I let myself free fall, wings pressed to my back until I’m mere feet from the treeline.

I snap them open quickly, pulling upwards abruptly and rocketing back to my brother.
When I level out, Azriel is already a ways ahead, his foul mood a tangible thing.

“What was that about?” I ask aloud, though he’s too far away to hear. He’s nothing but a cloud of shadow and angst now.

Rhys taps on my mental shields and I lower them to let him in.

“How’d it go?” The High Lord's voice inside my head is as clear as it would be if he were standing in front of me. I show him my memories of the uneventful visit, promising to report on the finer details later, leaving Blair out.

What’s going on with Az?” He questions, I shrug both physically and mentally.

“Maybe he saw something down there that I missed?” I suggest.

I would ask, but I doubt he’ll talk about it anytime soon whatever it is.
Rhys and I both know how bad he gets sometimes, but no matter what we try it doesn’t seem to get through to him.

He spirals, forgets to sleep, avoids sleep, avoids us, forgets he isn’t invincible.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” I announced suddenly, not even sure when I’d decided on it. I’m curious though, and desperate not to be bored at home while Azriel might cut me open for reasons unknown, only encouraging my decision.

“Leave me to deal with the grumpy spymaster, thanks sooo much Cass.” Rhys teased.

“I don’t know what this is, but I’m letting him cool off. You didn’t see the way he was glaring at me at the restaurant!” I protest, holding my hands above my head and pushing the memory at Rhys. I feel his wince.

“As long as you are back by dinner, I can handle the moods, but add in Amren poking at him and Mor…” Mor being Mor, he doesn’t have to finish the sentence for me to understand.

“I won’t leave you to the wolves, don’t worry,” I say, with a grin that will doubtlessly make him question my sincerity. Just as I expected Rhys’s suspicion is peaked, but I slam my shields down and launch downwards a flip that sends me back towards the treeline.

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I enter through the main doors into the Court of Nightmares. It’s all but empty, just a few courtiers passing through.

Not wanting to waste any time I make a beeline for the second set of doors that leads down into The Hewn City.

I follow the stairs until they open into a cavern so wide you could forget you are underground. I walk down the main avenue, the streets filled with fae of all kinds.

I always thought this place looked like Velaris, as if Velaris had been abandoned and hidden under a mountain.

You can see the wear on every face that passes. The tight grips they keep on their bags.
Like someone might try to snatch them away any second.

I don’t miss how they give me a wide berth, the averted eyes and sneering looks. I ignore them, eyes set on the small restaurant we ate at earlier.

It’s always dusk here under the mountain and this place takes advantage of that, with dark walnut sash bars checkering arched windows on either side of the entryway displaying the glowing flames that flicker in the hanging sconces inside.

The name, Daray’s, is printed in giant white block letters over the door, which is propped open as guests flow in and out.

The place is packed now, string instrumental music drifts outside to greet me on the sidewalk. I ignore the front door and circle to the back entrance. The doors swing open and I have just enough time to launch myself onto the neighboring building’s roof before Blair starts speed walking down the alley behind the row of businesses. I follow from above, using the tightly packed buildings to my advantage.

I notice something off with the way she’s holding herself. Her movements are stiff and jerky, upset. She comes to a halt before a tall brick apartment building and takes a deep breath. A small tear on her cheek reflects the light of the street lamp and I take a step back on the roof I’m perching on.

I can’t do this tonight, or more accurately she can’t. I don’t want to start it like this. I can’t go up to her and force my explanations and our history on her now. Not when she’s already upset.
Stuffing my curiosity and excitement down, I launch into the air, avoiding her line of sight.

Tomorrow, I’ll come back. But now.. Now I have to get back to Velaris and save Rhys from our brother.

Azriel and I need to talk, whether he likes it or not.

Chapter Text

Blair

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Kain wasn’t there when I got home.

Which was okay. I needed time to organize my thoughts before I confronted him. I walk into the kitchen, resting my head in my hands, and taking deep breaths. I release the magic hiding my wings and let them droop behind me.

She’s probably with him.

A slimy angry part of me whispers. My magic I suppose. I curl my hands into fists, pressing my nails into the palms.

I don’t know anything about that yet, I have to remind myself. No one would benefit from me being irrational.

You saw her kiss him.

I press my nails in harder, but isn’t that exactly my point? She kissed him, not the other way around. This could be some massive misunder-

He didn’t stop her.

I slam my palms into the kitchen table, searing the wood with my flame on accident. I fight back the urge to scream for my thoughts to shut up.

This Wouldn’t Help Anything!

I’m being irrational!

This isn’t fair to him, or the girl.

This isn’t fair to you.

I feel my temperature rise against my will and I try to push the flames into the back of my mind. They burn. The fire burns my mind, searing itself into my psyche.

I hate my flame, the “gift” from my father. I hate my wings, hate the heritage they tie me to, I hate that I have to hide them.

The door opens, pulling me from my thoughts. I push my fire down, pull my wings up, I wipe my eyes though I wasn’t crying. The heat of my magic dried them before they could fall/

“Hey baby,” His voice is as easy and charming as ever.

He leans in to kiss me, I turn my head just enough to make him miss.

“Hey, how was your day?” I pray to the Mother my voice comes out steady, not the chaotic mess of anger, betrayal, and doubt I think it is.

“Uneventful and exhausting at the same time, what’d you have for dinner?” He asks, releasing me and heading to the icebox.

“I haven’t yet, I just got home.” My voice is calm, I’m sure of it this time, but maybe it's too calm because it finally catches his attention.

“Oh? Where were you?” He furrowed his eyebrows at the still-bare icebox. Right, I told him I was getting groceries.

“I had to work late, I saw you come in actually.” I keep my eyes pinned to the marble counter across from me.

He hums then turns to look at me. “And?” I raise an eyebrow at him, trying to stay neutral.

The bastard knows what you’re talking about.

The thought flickers across my thoughts loud and uninvited.

You know you’re right.

I feel my hands heat and I press them together casually in case my magic decides to flare.

Just ask.

The idea is too tempting. Besides, we’re both adults who can have a grown-up conversation.

The little voice in the back of my head, my magic, seems appeased.

“Your companion was quite lovely.” I start cautiously. I watch his face for any hint of a change.

“Yes, she was, but not nearly as lovely as you my dear.” His grin suddenly seems slimy to me.

Because he is slimy. Just ask.

I will not be considered an irrational little girl. I won’t be jealous and petty. I won’t be-

I won’t be what? I can’t disguise my grimace as I realize what I’ve been telling myself is exactly what males like Egil would say.

That I was worthless.

That females should know their place.

That my opinions were clouded with petty emotions.

To hell with it. To hell with it all!

“Did you like it? When she kissed you?” I ask, not caring if it sounds petty, if I can’t be honest about my emotions around Kain, I’m not sure I should be with him.

He’s good at acting confused, I have to give him credit for that. What if he isn’t act- I cut that thought off. He takes a step forward, as if to hug me, kiss me. I step back, wings spreading behind me involuntarily.

“Tell me.” I demand but he ignores me, continuing his approach. Swallowing I continue backing up until I hit the wall, the windowsill digging into the base of my wings. I want to hide them, to protect them, but I can’t make myself move.

“So pretty,” He says in a low voice I don’t recognize. “You shouldn’t worry about such things, you’re mine, she’s just fun.” This isn’t Kain, I deny, something’s off right? This can’t be the fae I fell in love with. I would’ve seen it right? I wouldn’t have been able to love a male who was as bad as my father.

“Stop” I say, voice shaky.
\TW\

I try to turn my head, but he grabs my chin harshly. His lips are familiar to my, once welcomed and wanted. Memories of kisses just like this one flash through my mind. Firm and rough, but always wanted. That’s the only difference, I don’t want this now.

“Stop” I beg again as his lips press into mine. I squirm, which only serves to pin my wings behind me painfully.

I want him to let me go. I want to leave. I do not want him to kiss me.

I don’t want it.

Not when he drags his hands down my spine and cups my ass.

Not when he squeezes my breasts in his calloused palms.

Not when he does the things he’s done to give me pleasure a thousand times in the 5 years since I met him.

I’m sobbing now, he’s not any rougher than he has been before, but I wanted it then. When he pulled my hair before I found pleasure in the sting, not now.

I can’t move, or maybe I can, but my fight or flight response must be broken because I’m frozen.

I want to reach for my magic, to burn him wherever he touches me, turn him into nothing but ash. I can’t remember how. I can’t do this! This shouldn’t be happening, I should be able to stop this! I can stop this right? How?

I hate him for this, but I loved him before. I still love him. I can’t make myself stop loving him even when he holds me roughly enough to bruise.

I’m facing the window now, the quiet street oblivious to what is going on just beyond their sight.

“Stop!” I scream, or maybe croak, I can barely hear myself over the chaos of my thoughts. I feel my magic flare up, the shock of what’s happening finally fading a bit.
\TW end\

“Let. Me. GO!” my skin heats, burning him exactly as I had wanted to. In his alarm his grip loosens and I twist around to face him. I see the flames in my own eyes in the reflection of his blue ones. My legs can’t hold me up and I slump to the floor, finally able to conceal my wings.

His face is the same, but he is no longer the same person to me. I love the Kain I know, but this is not the Kain I know. This is the Kain I’ve learned to hate less than ten minutes after I met him.

This is heartbreak I suppose, but not the kind that was supposed to come if I ever lost Kain. No, I’ve lost Kain, but the overwhelming sadness is tainted with my hatred.

This isn’t the melancholy aching sadness from the books when the hero leaves the heroine.

No, this is the angry soul-crushing betrayal when she learns that the man she thought loved her was the villain of her story.

His tanned skin is blistered from where my flames touched him. He reaches for me again but fire erupts along my skin, dancing along my arms and legs. I have no control over it, never truly had. I was a creature ruled by her emotions. A scarred and broken demon.

Kain curses and spits at me. It doesn’t hit, evaporated by the second skin of magic that surrounds me.

I wait for him to leave.

I don’t know how long I sat there on the floor by the window. I don’t know if I shed any real tears or if I’ve run out. I don’t know when my magic retreats.

What I do know is that I do eventually wake up from my haze of non-sleep, and when I do it is because someone is knocking on my door.