A Storm of Flames and Deceit

XXXXIV. When the Day Comes

Nephele
The sun wakes me up, but for once, I hardly mind it. How could I be upset when the light slanted across my new room perfectly, shining across my dark purple comforter that was Heaven to sleep on. I've come so very far from my cold, dark cellar- this room was comprised of two walls of windows, fused together at the corner of which my bed was pushed against.
All I had to do was roll on my stomach to see possibly the greatest view I've ever seen in my uneventful life. I couldn't tell in the darkness of last night, but Eris' home seemed to be built into the side of the mountain, a dance away from a glittering waterfall that soothed me to sleep last night with its song. If I looked out at the horizon, I could see the oranges and reds and gold of the autumn leaves, in an eternal cycle of falling.
In fact, the only thing that could disappoint me about this arrangement is how I missed Eris' body curled next to mine. I don't know... I suppose I sort of... assumed we'd be sharing a bed for the rest of our days like most married couples, but I suppose we aren't the typical marriage.
Sleeping in his shirt was a passable consolation. It smelled exactly like him, and it somehow captured his warmth. Rolling out of bed clumsily, I can't help but smile, hugging it closer to my chest as I wander out of my bedroom.
The air is sweeter here, each breath seeming to clear my nose. I walk down the curved halls quietly, my bare feet chilled by the oak floors. The house was lovely like that, not too angular or boxy, its shape more organic and asymmetrical.
I enter what I think must be the living room, and my jaw drops a bit. The whole room was glassy, as if the house were merely a window to the view beyond. In the heart of the room, a tree twists its branches through the ceiling, its trunk seeming to be rooted somewhere beneath the floor. An apple tree.
The room isn't excessively big, connected to a small kitchen and dining room. I can't help but think of how... humble his home is. He had grown up with privilege and money, and yet... he didn't feel compelled to live outside his needs. It didn't need to be grand or massive or regal to be his home. It just had to be... his.
I walk slowly towards the tree, gravitated to the gleaming red apples that don't outwardly appear like they ever fall to the floor. Around the tree are a few rounded couches of luxurious cushioning, golds and oranges. I smile, running my fingers over the bark, looking up at the branches above, the childlike urge to climb the tree fluttering in my tummy.
"I thought I heard you wake," Eris calls to me, entering the room. I smile over my shoulder.
"It's beautiful," I tell him, unable to help myself.
He smiles at the floor, looking nearly shy, already dressed for the day, though his glasses hang low on his nose. He must've been getting an early start on work, then.
"Did I catch you while you were fussing about what to do about Helion?" I raise a brow, and he chuckles.
"That obvious, huh?" He takes his fingers through his already messy hair, nodding towards the archway. "Come. I'll show you the study."
I smile, following after him, finding the decency to at least button up the shirt that I slept in. I wasn't exactly wearing the most modest of undergarments, fresh from the consummation ceremony.
He leads me to the other wing of the house, past two additional spare rooms. I gather that the other wing of the house was more residential with both Eris and my rooms as well as a laundering room that I recall passing. But Eris' study was all work, a grand oak desk, walls of books, a table with a massive map spread across it. I smile, running my fingers along the spines of books across the wall. "Like it?"
I turn to Eris' smirking face where he perched atop his desk, watching me. I roll my eyes, sliding beside him. "Talk to me about Helion," I say, crossing my ankles. "We'll be leaving soon."
...
When we had finished talking over a plate of strawberry pancakes, Eris was rushing me to dress so that we could depart for Day. I had snickered when he threatened to leave me, telling him he worries too much. He had stood on the other side of my door as I changed, ranting about how Helion might start a war if we were late, and I had opened the door seconds later, fully dressed in Day garb, rolling my eyes. He had taken my hand and winnowed us immediately, though we still had ten minutes until noon, and I laughed at his urgency. He had explained the wards of the house to me. Beyond no one knowing it's exact location, the home was also invisible from the outside looking in. Eris alone could winnow in and out at will, and he told me once he got a moment, he would adjust the wards so that the same could be said of me.
We arrive in Day to not only find Helion, but the entire inner circle of night, save for Amren. Fantastic.
I can tell Eris is just as enthused, his fingers tightening around mine as we trudge forward. "I don't appreciate being taken away from my honeymoon, Helion," Eris chides, joining the circle of them sitting along the oasis, pulling me to sit closely beside him.
"Well, I don't enjoy being lied to and having my son kept from all these years," Helion replies, not seeming to be entirely sober. "I guess life isn't a fairytale."
"We understand this is hard Helion," I say empathetically, laying a hand on Eris' thigh. "But you have to understand brash action is not our friend right now."
"She's right," Rhys puts in. "If we act too harshly, if Beron discovers any of our involvement, he won't only have Delia killed. He'll kill Eris as well."
My breath cuts, my eyes flashing to my husband who doesn't even flinch. I didn't even consider...
"Why should I care?" Helion laughs, drinking a brown liquid. "I want my son. I want the mother of my son. I want them in the safety of my home, and I'm sorry to say that I couldn't give less of a fuck about the cost."
My vision flickers red. I know it's not Helion. I know it's the alcohol, the rage of betrayal and loss, and yet... I stand. "You should care because Eris is the only person who has been protecting Delia all these years," I snarl, slipping forward, breaking from Eris' grip on my finger. "You should care because he's the only one who can dethrone Beron and save your wife." I snatch the drink from his hands, dumping the contents into a shrub. Now was not the time to be drunken. Helion blinks a bit, standing himself, looking over me, but I cross my arms, not backing down, even as Eris puts his hand on my shoulder.
"So loyal," he muses. "I thought blood was thicker than water, but who among us would really know, right?" He laughs, plopping back into his seat grandly.
"I'm not going to apologize for keeping my mother's secret," Eris says quietly, venom dripping off his voice as he squeezes my fingers. "I would do it a thousand times again because it kept the both of them alive. It kept war at bay."
He takes a step back, pulling me with him. "I know my mother, and I'd like to think she wouldn't love a man without reason, but if you're too blinded by your anger over what you've lost to even try and properly get it back," he snarls, his face cold as death. "My wife and I will return home because I will have no part in you endangering her or my mother or my brother's lives. But I invite you to send for me when you're ready to have a conversation."
He turns, and I go with him because, frankly, I'm just as mad as he is, walking back towards the winnowing point. He glances at me as we walk, and I give him a weak smile, laying my head on his shoulder. We're a team- that much was clear when he kisses my brow.
"Wait!" Helion calls, running for us in a graceless manner, Eris and I both turning. He huffs a bit, as if the air could sober him. "How do we save her?"
Eris and I exchange a look before nodding, returning to the circle.
...
"We need to figure out how to tell Lucien," Feyre sighs, leaning back in her chair.
Eris nods in agreement. "Lucien living in Day with Helion might be enough to tempt my mother to leave," he says, raking his fingers through his hair. "He was always her favorite, and I know she regrets the time she lost with him. She never had it in her to leave before, but this might be enough."
But what of you, Eris? I want to ask, but I refrain. I can see that Delia loves Eris. I can't see how he wouldn't be her favorite. How she could bare to leave him.
Maybe that's why she stayed so long.
"We need to device a way to extract Delia from autumn safely without inviting war on Day too," Rhysand says as Helion rubs his brow. "If we can get her on board with leaving, we'll need to figure out how to get her out."
"We could fake her death?" Cassian suggests, shooting words into the wind. It's not a bad idea.
"He would never believe it," Eris shrugs coldly. "If my mother were to kill herself, he knows she would've done it by now. She has no enemies. She is in full health, and has no other reason to die. My father is cruel, but he is not completely stupid. He would know he had been betrayed." Sounds like he's thought of this before.
"Beron needs to die," Azriel puts in quietly, and I shiver at his tone of voice, even if I agree.
"Yes, but my father needs to go before Beron," I respond regretfully. "He will flee if his deal with autumn is compromised, and then, we will never find him. He already doesn't trust Eris. Any further pull, and he will be out without a word, taking his army and his sweet time to plan a counter attack."
"I don't see us being able to accelerate the timetable so soon. My father's forces will need more preparation before facing the stone army, and the Illyrians aren't exactly wagging their tails in the face of fighting again," Mor admits, pulling her golden locks off her neck in the heat, fanning herself a bit in the day heat. I wonder vaguely if that's why she couldn't marry Eris.
She couldn't take the heat.
"She's been in hell long enough," Helion says assertively. "This should've been treated with urgency centuries ago."
My mind falls to what might've happened to Eris if it had. It's selfish, but I can't help but wonder if he might've been truly horrible had his mother left him to the wolves. Would he be like his brothers? Would he be like Beron? Would he be worse?
"Believe me: I agree with you, but urgency can make a mess of things, and my father likes to burn what displeases him," Eris says, a muscle ticking in his jaw. I swallow, playing with Eris' hands where they sit in his lap until his amber eyes cool down a bit. "So you must know that every possible plan you've thought of to free my mother, I've thought of in extreme detail. It is without win."
I frown, running my fingers over Eris' knuckles, trying to concentrate. "But what has changed since you last thought of it?" I murmur, so quiet that hardly anyone hears me. Eris shakes his glance to me.
"What are you thinking?" He asks me quietly, like no one else were there. I bite my lip, considering.
"My father," I tell him softly. "He thinks Beron is an idiot. If you struck a deal with him so that he could work with his far more competent successor..."
Eris' eyes widen a bit, a plan forming in his head. "What are they saying?" Cassian whines to Azriel. "I can hardly hear them."
Eris turns, smirking, exchanging an assuring glance with me as a smile rips from my lips. "Eris isn't only going to take his father's crown," I say, tipping my head against his shoulder.
"I'm going to take his alliance too," he finishes, wrapping his arm around me. He chuckles a breath. "Now," he muses. "Who wants to tell Lucien?"