Chapter Text
Nesta caught his eye from across the well-lit room. Chandeliers dripping with crystals sent lights sparkling across the ballroom dance floor and washed moving figures with rainbow light. It was a beautiful ball. One that her sister had planned well, but Nesta was tired of balls. She agreed to come because Ferye and Elain had dangled the promise of dancing and music and one of the only real joys in Nesta’s life. So Nesta came.
The man across the room lifted his head in acknowledgment of her stare. She did not so much as deign to move her head, but watched carefully as he moved around the edges of the dancefloor to approach her. By the time he arrived, he held two glasses of champagne in his hands. He greeted her with the glass and Nesta’s eyes flicked down to it for a second before she unfolded her arms and took the glass. They faced the dance floor side by side, eyeing each other up through their periphery.
In the silence she drank, swallowing half the glass’s contents before she lowered her eyes to his once again. He was watching her, waiting for her to make the first move. As she assessed him she couldn’t decide if that was because he was a coward or too smart for his own good. As the music swelled and the couples danced, Nesta finally turned, ever so slightly.
With a tilt of her head, making sure to betray no emotion in her voice, Nesta said, ”And to whom do I owe the pleasure of my company?”
The man smiled, flashing his teeth, “Well I’m honestly surprised you haven’t heard of me before. I would have thought my reputation would speak for itself.”
Nesta did not so much as arch her eyebrow, “I have little interest in the semantics of reputation. Gossip is dull, especially without proof”
The man’s smile widened, his amber eyes flashing, “Then it seems we have something in common. My name is Eris. I’d ask your’s but I’m afraid the rumor mills have already filled me in. So may I say, it is a pleasure to be in the presence of such power and grace, Nesta Archeron.”
“Damn right it is.” Nesta mumbled into her glass as she drained the last of the champagne. He smiled as he caught her mumbled response.
Eris raised his glass to try and catch up. As he drank, Nesta took a moment to observe the male in front of her. He was tall, lean, and handsome enough. His red hair was certainly his most eye-catching feature, curled just enough to fall over his head, framing his sharp features. Yes, sharp seemed to be a good way to describe Eris. More than any of that, he seemed familiar. Perhaps she had seen his face on the battlefield, fighting against Hybern. Perhaps he had been one of the males that she had treated in the infirmary after that first battle. Perhaps they had passed each other in these very halls and never known who had walked before them.
He lowered his glass, having finished as well and he reached to take Nesta’s empty glass as well. He turned and placed both on a serving platter passing by and then finally he turned to face Nesta fully. He said nothing as he offered a hand to her, but his eyes seemed to glean with intent.
Nesta knew what he was asking for: a dance, a way to continue their conversation through more than voice. She weighed her options: one the one hand, Eris was not the ideal man to dance with. She had been warned by her sister before the night had begun that a man named Eris would almost certainly seek her out that night, likely inquiring about an alliance to her sister’s court. Surely this dance would come with strings attached and a game of politics to navigate. One wrong word and it could send the night into chaos. On the other hand, Eris was the first person to ask her to dance after almost two hours of standing and excruciatingly mundane conversation. It was really no question what she should do.
Nesta gently placed her hand in Eris’ waiting palm. “Shall we?”
Eris’ smile softened, with success? With relief? “It would be my pleasure.”
His hand was firm as he led her through the crowd. The band was just coming to the end of a piece and there was a momentary pause in the music. They got into position, standing in the heart of the crowd. Eris raised their connected hands and twirled Nesta close, placing his other hand one the back of her hip. His touch was hot where it met the open back of her dress, almost burning.
The musicians raised their instruments and there was a split second, as everyone in the room seemed to take a collective breath. In that frozen moment, Eris leaned forward and whispered to her in the quiet of the room, “Try to keep up.”
And before Nesta could even start to respond the noise of the crowd around them was drowned out as a glorious sympathy filled the room like fresh air. And then they were moving.
Nesta didn’t miss a beat as they were swept away with the rhythm but she glowered at Eris who had an insufferable smirk on his too sharp face. Fine. If Eris wanted to see how she could play then she would show him.
The music was fast and dark but Nesta knew it well. She let Eris lead her but every one of her steps and movement was sure and her own. Within a few seconds it seemed to dawn on Eris that he may have been leading the dance, but Nesta was the one with the power. Eyes from all around the room turned to watch them as she rose and dipped and spun and twisted with a grace that few had ever seen and even fewer posses. She glided across the tiled floor, a whisper, a part of the very music itself. As she spared her dancing compaininon a glance he looked at her with awe in his eyes, utterly captivated by the spell she had begun weaving. They locked eyes and Nesta felt Eris press them closer together as the song intensified, letting himself get swept away in her own whirlwind of movement.
They followed the choreography, but they improvised too. A raised arm, an extra spin, even an unexpected lift, all flowed together as naturally as breathing. Nesta had danced with skilled partners before, but never someone who could so easily adapt to her movements, to her very intentions. Eris had told her to keep up, and he seemed keen to take his own advice.
As Nesta stared into Eris’ eyes she thought suddenly, that this felt right. Like she was doing the thing her body was meant to be doing. The only thing that mattered, not the politics of her sister’s court, not meddlesome mothers, not the tug of longing in her heart of a life gone by, but this, this dance was the only thing in the world. The people and whispers of the crowd faded, leaving only the notes that seemed to ring through her entire being and the feeling of her body as it moved in the way it was born to do. For a moment, Nesta felt wild and she let a bit of that wildness show in her gray eyes. Eris picked up on it and smiled to match her in intensity every step of the way.
Even as this moment felt infinite and wonderful, Nesta knew the song was coming to a close soon. The music rose and rose, building towards its crescendo and they rose with it. Moving as one, Eris pulled her close, letting his burning handrail beyond her hip and up the arch of her back, nearly tracing her spine. She would have shivered at the touch if she could spare her concentration. Instead she let herself be pulled close, not breaking eye contact as her chest was pressed against his. They spun and circled and Eris only released her to spin her back to him, closer and closer. In the last seconds of the music, he raised his hand and let her twirl, her black and silver dress spinning with her until finally she ended in his arms as he dipped them both low to the floor, their faces barely a breath away.
Eris was breathing heavily, but Nesta had hardly a hair out of place. This was her element, her playing field. Eris had proven himself to be a worthy opponent, but she had shown him that she wasn’t even playing his game.
As the instruments settled and the last notes of the night fled the room, Eris lifted her up from the dip, but left his hand pressed against her lower back. “I must admit,” he said, “I’d known you were good, but that…”
Nesta stood, but did not take her palm from his or go to move his hand from her back.
“Other people are good.” she said.
Eris raised a brow.
“I was made for this.”
Eris smiled, and the joy behind it seemed to reach his eyes in a way that nothing else had. “Oh that much is very clear.” he said, “Though I wonder…” They straightened and faced each other once more, and Nesta settled herself for another dance, another chance to disappear into something more.
“I wonder, why stay on the sidelines for so long? Especially when you wanted to dance and any male here would fall to their knees at just the chance to dance with you.”
The music began and they stepped together, following the rhythm as Nesta responded, “The people of this court are not shy about their opinions of me. And they shouldn’t be. For as much as they love dear Feyre, they fear me. And it’s a bit hard to find a dance partner who doesn’t spend the entire song stepping on his own feet or staring at my breasts..”
Eris cocked his head as he spun his arm out, keeping their hands connected and then pulling her back to him. “Now the latter I can understand completely, but Nesta I must ask: is it really so bad to be feared?”
Nesta did not respond immediately, instead turning with the music and the sway of the crowd and drinking in her surroundings. Every eye that watched the dancefloor was trained on them. On her. She felt the cold fire in her blood boil up at the sight, felt the steel in her soul strain against the whispers that were traded behind her back. They had no idea. Not one person here knew what she was truly capable of. Hell, she hardly did.
Eris picked up on her silence. “I must admit, Nesta, I didn’t come here tonight to talk philosophy. I’m here to ask you a different question.”
Nesta turned back to face him as the music swelled and his hand tightened around hers. “I came here tonight to invite you to visit my home, the Autumn Court. My father is… unwell and has requested that his Court be left in good hands. He wants to know that we’ve got powerful allies on the table before he goes. I want to offer him that knowledge and bring him a little bit of peace.”
“The Night Court and the Autumn Court alliance has been strongly established for quite some time.” Nesta said.
“No, it hasn’t.”
Nesta raised a brow at that as the song came to a conclusion and their bodies stilled. Eris pulled his hand from hers, but kept his other hand resting on her hip, reluctant to give up all contact. ”The Night Court has had an alliance with me for quite some time. Rhys pledged his support to me overthrowing my father. It seems fate had other plans.”
Eris finally pulled his hand away and her skin was warm through her dress in the space left behind. “I only wish to show him that his last years of life weren’t spent with his closest ally scheming behind his back. And Cauldron knows that anyone of Rhy’s little inner circle would rather die than come visit. So I came to you.”
Nesta’s stare hardened “Ah, so you came to me because I’m the only one that Rhys and Feyre wouldn’t mind shipping out.”
He took a step back, and then another. “I came to you because you’re the only one I would want to say yes. You’ve got power Nesta, and I don’t just mean the magical kind. You’ve got it baked into your very being.” He raised a finger and pointed it to his chest, right above his heart. “I know you do because I can see it in you as clearly as I can see it in myself. And you weren’t made to be governed by people who don’t understand you.”
He made to move away and in the split second that she saw him turn, Nesta made a decision. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was vanity, or maybe it felt like she was talking to someone who finally knew how to play the game as well as she did. Regardless of the reason, Nesta decided to make a decision for herself tonight. She grabbed his hand.
Nesta pulled and spun Eris around, then pulled him to her. He fell into the waltz position she guided him to, a look of patient confusion on his face. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear, barely audible over the beginnings of a new song, “I’m not done with you yet.”
She felt the shiver run through him at the words and allowed herself her first real smile of the evening. Then, with the crash of the drums and the singing of the violins, they were off.