A Court of Ashes and Rebirth

2

Eris shifted in his seat by his father's throne. He really couldn't focus.
The court session dragged on as one after another, complains about low wages, broken down water systems; some nasty Lotus marsh nymphs and other mischievous creatures kept piling up.
He sighed deeply. It was a lot of work and he felt like doing nothing.

The city lords had issues of their own, throwing shady remarks at the High Lord's sons knowing Beron couldn't execute them for this. A jest here and an insult there. If only he could rip their heads off.

"...it could lead the entire city to revolt." Eris's ears perked up at this information. He glanced at his High Lord sitting proudly in his heavy intrique throne. A cruel frown on his face.

"Insufferable bastard." Eris thought to himself. Insufferable, foolish and greedy. A High Lord without honour. He took care to check his expression and not let any of his disgust show. Murmuring a temporary solution to the city lord's calamity, in his father's ear, Eris sighed again.
                       His head had began to ache but he refused to massage it in front of the entire court. He'd have to take a tonic later. Right now he only wanted the lords to leave. Before he lost the grip over his temper. So many centuries later and he still could not forgive or even forget their betrayal. Everytime he was in this court. He had to endure the weight of his failure. It was bad enough knowing his failure had caused his loved ones inexplicable pain and irreversible loss. It was another thing for it to be rubbed in his face every morning by those very smirking deceitful council members.

He snorted. The city lord stopped mid-sentence. Beron turned Eris's way, eyebrows raised.
"Is there a matter, my lord?" The city lord asked. His tone cold and bitter. The lord had a pinched face and greasy brown curls. Miserable.

"I'd prefer having a match of wits, but you appeared to have come unarmed," he replied pinning the city lord with a cold gaze, "if we are  going to sit here and pretend that you haven't been conspiring with our enemies, I'd prefer least bit honesty."
           He smiled thinly at his father's enraged face yet bewildered face.

"What enemies?" He spat.

Eris smiled again. He did not spare another glance at the city lord whose face had no doubt blanched.
                  
             "Our dear friend here made a pact with the Crones of Yule to deliver his first born to them for the sacrifice of Sacred Night.

"I guess that is why you have been so desperate for a sister of Royal blood."

Eris didn't have a sister. But he had cousins. Mother knew how protective he was of them. Even though he hid it well. And he certainly would sit by, idly and watch as they were sold to some contemptible, gluttonous money-whore for breeding.
             He glanced at his father whose face had twisted into ugly wrath.

"What was your price again?" He heard Beron ask.

"The essence of Blood Moon, 400 purebred fae warriors, 600 demi-fae warriors and 50 birth trained mistresses, all of them foreign beauties." He said in a rush, his voice rising several pitches.

"But I have more! I have more!" He screamed. Struggling to free himself from the High Guards that had pounced upon him on the silent discretion of their (unofficial) ruler.
                        "I have something more too... something you would want..." the lord panted. His brown curls sticking to his forehead. Eris saw a drop of sweat slide down.

"And what will that be?" His father asked. Not bored anymore.
"It's an ancient mirror. It's called the Ouroboros."

Mother above. Eris felt cold wash over him as he recognized the artifacts name. It was no ordinary object. It's existence wasn't common knowledge either. He only knew of it because the bastard Steward of Night Court's Hell City had mentioned it to him. And even that was decades ago...a little while before the war started when Feyre was trying to recruit the now dead Bone Carver in her little league of monsters. She had recruited Stryga too...and was responsible for her death. One day he'd ask for that debt to be paid too. But that was for another time. Right now he had to focus on keeping that object the hell away from his father's court. He hadn't heard a whisper of this object in all these years...how had the city lord managed to get his hold on it. He'll find out that too.

He looked sideways, at Beron, whom he found deep in thought. The greed clear in his red-brown eyes. He was sure his father was aware of the object and its history. He just prayed that he wasn't greedy enough to bring it back to this court. He was wrong.

"Thirteen shipments of Blood Moon essence. 500 purebred fae warriors. 600 demi-fae warriors, they won't be allowed on my premises and will live at the outskirts of the court territory; 100 mistresses and finally the Ouroboros mirrors. Do I have your word for it?" His father asked.

"Yes...yes High Lord," the city lord croaked in relief, "I'll have word sent for the shipment to start it's journey right away."

The lord hastened to stand up. He was still in the clutches of the High Guard. Eris raised a hand. Signalling for the soldiers to let him ago.

His mind already thinking of a way to stop this man and his bloody shipment without damaging the economy of his court, or getting beheaded in the process. But it wasn't over. Not for Beron anyway. He stood up making the whole court stand in his honour. Eris rose too.
Slowly, as Eris watched, his father walked up to the city lord. Such that he towered over the now cowering fae.

"Pathetic." Eris thought "Pathetic and pitiful."

"You have yet to pay for your treachery. It's gift enough that I'm letting you live. And I guarantee you safety from my hands. And those of my kin, even after our bargain is finished. I make it known to my entire court that you are no enemy of ours. But for that to happen, you'll first have to balance the scales of mutual harmony. Scales you have, rather unfortunately tipped." Beron stepped back. "Cut his tongue, so he may no longer conspire with our enemies or spew lies about it."

Eris watched mutely as the executioner stepped forward, bowed to his High Lord and began preparing to deliver the punishment.

His father dismissed the court.

Yet Eris stood there, as the man's anguished screams became silent; as the bleeding lord  dragged himself out of the throne room, he didn't move, even when the cleaners came and wiped away all signs of today's punishment.

He fulfilled his duty, as his father's heir to know that the punishment was delivered and effectively.

Even though it brought back all kinds of memories.

A blonde head; bloodied, mud soaked and whimpering, his own cold laugh as he left her there to rot. The screams of his personal servants as they were tortured to death for protecting him. His own shattered screaming as his Beron turned his fire against him. And then a million more events of torture, passing in fragments in front of his eyes. He stood their in his own pain for mother knew how long, until his mother's sweet voice broke through the agonizing memories playing in his mind.
           But he didn't let her soothe him. He had brought this upon himself after all. He deserved it. Instead he just walked away. It was all worthless anyway. She hadn't helped him when Beron had punished Eris for failing him and his court, she had stood by silently as Beron had ripped his son's soul apart. Her love and empathy wouldn't heal anything now. It wouldn't fix him.

He was beyond that. Beyond hope.

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