A Court of Chaos and Coral (Amren x Varian)

Chapter 7: Amren

The song of the chapter is:
Cry - Cigarettes after Sex

Amrens breath was tight walking back into Azriels room. Luckily, his mood had dampened, so telling him would feel less like kicking a puppy.

Varian gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze and an urging look before flopping down on an armchair. He kept his eyes trained on her. The fear that he would work out what she needed to tell him before she could flitted through her mind, but disappeared when she turned to Azriel. 

"How is he?" She choked out, nearing the bed slowly.

"He's going alright." The shadowsinger mumbled, ducking his head.

Amren glanced back to her mate, who gave her a look that was both assessing and encouraging.

"What's going on?" Azriel asked, paling slightly. If just this made him nervous, how would he take it all?

"Okay..." She sighed, perching on the edge of the bed in front of her friend.

She took a breath so deep she felt it reverberate in her chest. Rip the band aid of, she repeated in her head.

"Eris will wake, and soon, and you must prepare."

Azriel frowned. "What are you talking about, Amren?"

Amren grabbed his hands with her slender ones. "I had a vision, Azriel. The cauldron, it- it's not important. But, this vision I had... Eris wakes, and soon, but he will never be the same. Something -I don't know what- has changed him. Not him, physically, or even mentally, but..."

"But what? Amren, I don't understand what you are talking about."

She took a deep breath. "Magically. The knife Beron used in the fight was cursed."

Azriel shook his head. "You're lying."

Amren slapped his cheek

"I am not lying to you, you stupid Illyrian. Don't be so gullible. The state Eris is in now, he isn't asleep, and he isn't in a coma."

"He is fully conscious."

~

Azriel was breathing so fast he might very well take off. "What?" He rasped.

"I will explain quickly, because Thesan is on his way. You do not need to know the extent of the curse, or why it was performed, but what is important is Eris. The blade he was attacked with holds a curse that gives the harmed so much power it will kill them. The curse has a delay, where it is in the bloodstream, but not active, which causes complete paralysis. That state lasts about a week, before the nervous system notices the power, and reacts."

Azriel was whiter than a ghost. "What will happen when he reacts?"

Amren pressed her lips together. "He will effectively explode, from the power overflow."

"Witches..." Azriel breathed. Then he blinked down at her. "Is there..." A tight breath. "Anything to be done?"

How he was so calm was an absolute mystery. 

"Yes." Thesans' smooth, calming voice cut through the room. "Hello, Amren, Varian." He nodded to them politely, before turning to his entourage of healers. "Black out the room, please, I do not need any extra light. Azriel, come here."

The Shadowsinger scrambled over to the High Lord. "What are you going to do?"

Thesan pushed his hair off his face. "In short, I will extract all the extra power, while my healers send slow shocks through him to "wake" him up."

Azriel's eyes widened. "Where are you going to put the power?" 

Thesan fixed him with a hard stare. "You, if you agree to it?"

"Yes." Azriel said immediately. "I'll do it."

"You could die, if I do this wrong."

"Do you plan on doing it wrong?"

Thesan scowled. "No."

~

Amren and Varian had been kicked into the hall before Thesan could begin. The rest of the inner circle was there, hovering outside the door in silence. Rhysand was particularly pale. When Amren walked past, she found out why.

"I never got the chance to apologize."  He whispered to Feyre, who scowled unsympathetically. 

"Maybe you shouldn't have been so unkind in the first place. If you want my sympathy, you won't find it. Even Mor reacted better than you." She hissed at him.

He shifted uncomfortably. Feyre rolled her eyes and leaned around him to talk to Amren.

"Do you think he will be okay?"

Amren looked up at Varian. To be honest, he knew the most of the matter. He shrugged, mind clearly elsewhere. She frowned.

"You okay?" She mumbled.

Varian ran a hand through his hair. "Something feels wrong. I don't know."

Amren sighed. "This is awful."

He nodded, and pulled his into his chest.

~

Almost an hour later, the shuffling of dragged footsteps came from the other end of the hall. A young servant, carrying a note, walked up to the inner circle, and stopped in front of them.

"Is everything okay?" Rhys asked quickly.

The servant gave him a weird look and stepped around him to Varian, holding the note out to the male. He took it tentatively. 

Amren watched her mate become increasingly paler as he read the note, felt his breath tighten.

"Everything alright?" She asked carefully, inspecting his horrified face.

He stumbled back, crumpling the note into a ball. "I have to go."

"Wait, when will you be back?" Amren stepped closer.

"I don't..." He trailed off, shaking his head and winnowing away.