A Court of Flame & Shadow - Eris x OC

The Winter Court IV

Unfamiliar with the city's layout, Eris was forced to travel to Viborg on horseback. By the time he escaped the capital's grasp, night had already descended. Yet, upon entering the smaller city, the towering log at its heart proved impossible to overlook. Guided by its beacon-like glow, he navigated the slippery, cobbled streets with ease. As he approached, the main square came alive with festive energy—garlands swaying in the chilly breeze, fires roaring to the skies, faeries dancing, drinking, and exchanging gifts.

His attention was drawn to a female High Fae amidst the revelry—curling white hair cascading over pale skin, icy blue eyes reflecting the fire's dance as she silently counted the sparks flying off the pine log. A gust of wind carried her scent to him, the mingling of pine and lavender evoking a sense of familiarity, of homecoming. Not the home of the Forest House, but rather the promise of what it could one day be to him.

His legs carried him to her side, where he'd belonged all along. Vel remained unperturbed; she had either expected or sensed his presence. It was akin to the inevitability of an object falling towards the ground rather than the sky – a gravitational force drawing them together.

Eris let her count her sparks. The words she'd carved into the wood were illegible, the fire had charred and split the bark beyond recognition. He watched the flames dance, let them warm his face, let his power stir within him in response.

They stood together for what felt like an eternity, enveloped by the music swelling around them. Gradually, the other faeries diverted their attention from the log to join in the festivities.

At last, Vel released a deep sigh and intertwined her cold fingers with his. He enveloped them in his warm hand, a silent gesture of comfort. As he gazed down at her, he saw the turmoil reflected in her ice-blue eyes. With gentle fingers, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear, a wordless reassurance of his presence.

"New look I see," he remarked flatly, as if discussing the weather. He struggled to find the right words, unsure of how to navigate the delicate situation. He couldn't make the promises she desired, but the thought of losing her was unbearable.

"I had to get out of that male skin. It was driving me mad. Half the time I couldn't even hear my own thoughts over the roaring of the bond."

"Hm. Perhaps you'll show some sympathy for me now."

Vel smiled up at him, and it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Bright. Rich. Warm. A weight seemed to ease off his shoulders. She hadn't rejected him. She didn't hate him. His heart cinched in response and with every beat it seemed to say Mine. Mine. Mine.

"It's relentless. I don't know how you manage," she confessed softly.

"What choice do I have? I don't have the luxury of shedding my skin." He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her flush against his chest, their bodies fitting together seamlessly. At their side, the flames swelled in answer. "I learned early on that it's easier when I stop fighting it—the bond, the urges."

She lifted her face to his, a roguish glint in her eye. Their noses were almost touching. "And what are you being urged to do?" she teased, her breath warm against his skin, sending his blood rushing away from his brain.

"A great many filthy things." He closed the distance between them, his lips brushing over hers ever so gently. "I'm not even sure where to start."

"I have a few ideas," she murmured, pulling back slightly. "But first there's something I need to say. I put you in a difficult position. You'll be a High Lord one day, and it's only natural for you to want to protect your people. It wasn't fair of me to force you to make that choice. I'm sorry. But—"