Elain Archeron Quotes

“She refused the knife Cassian handed her, though.

Went white as death at the sight of it.

Azriel, still limping, merely nudged aside Cassian and extended another option.

'This is Truth-Teller,' he told her softly. 'I won't be using it today- so I want you to.'
...
Elain's eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel's scared hand. The runes on the dark scabbard.

'It had never failed me once,' the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. 'Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.' He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. 'It will serve you well.'

'I- I don't know how to use it-'

'I'll make sure you don't have to,' I said, grass crunching as I stepped closer.

Elain weighed my words... and slowly closed her fingers around the blade.

Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade-

Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king's neck as she snarled in his ear, 'Don't you touch my sister.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“Lucien. It was Lucien.

Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he'd run from the shore.

His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little. But Elain only wrapped her arms around herself and remained at my side.

'Are you hurt?' he asked, coming toward us. Spying the blood speckling Elain's hands.

He halted short as he noticed the King of Hybern's decapitated head on the other side of the clearing. Nesta was still showered with his blood.

'I'm fine,' Elain said quietly. And then asked, noticing the gore on him, the torn clothes and still-bloody weapons, 'Are you-'

'Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but... yes, I'm in one piece.'

A faint smile bloomed on Elain's lips. But Lucien noticed that scorched patch of grass behind us and said, 'I heard- what happened. I'm sorry for your loss. All of you.'

I just strode to him and threw my arms around his neck, even if it wasn't the embrace he was hoping for. 'Thank you- for coming. With the battle, I mean.'

'I've got one hell of a story to tell you,' he said, squeezing me tightly.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“She knew she was going into that Cauldron. Knew she would lose this fight.

Knew no one was going to save her: not sobbing Feyre, not Feyre's gagged former lover, nor her devastated new mate. Not Cassian, broken and bleeding on the floor. The warrior was still trying to rise on trembling arms. To reach her.

The King of Hybern- he had done this. To Elain. To Cassian.

And to her.

The icy water bit into the soles of her feet.

It was a kiss of venom, a death so permanent that every inch of her roared in defiance.

She was going in- but she would not go gently.

The water gripped her ankles with phantom talons, tugging her down. She twisted, wrenching her arm free from the guard who held it.

And Nesta Archeron pointed. One finger- at the King of Hybern.

A death-promise. A target marked.

Hands shoved her into the water's waiting claws.

Nesta laughed at the fear that crept into the king's eyes just before the water devoured her whole.

In the beginning.

And in the end.

There was darkness.

And nothing more.

She did not feel the cold as she sank into a sea that had no bottom, no horizon, no surface. But she felt the burning.


Immortality was not a serene youth

It was fire.

It was molten ore poured into her veins, boiling her human blood until it was nothing but steam, forging her brittle bones until they were fresh steel.

And when she opened her mouth to scream, when the pain ripped her very self in two, there was no sound. There was nothing in this place but darkness and agony and power-

They would pay. All of them.

Staring with the Cauldron.

Starting now.

She tore into the darkness with talons and teeth. Rent and cleaved and shredded.

And the dark eternity around her shuddered. Bucked. Thrashed.

She laughed as it recoiled. Laughed around the mouthful of raw power she ripped out and swallowed whole; laughed at the fistfuls of eternity she shoved into her heart, her veins.

The Cauldron struggled like a bird under a cat's paw. She refused to relent.

Everything it had stolen from her, from Elain, she would take from it.

Wrapped in black eternity, Nesta and the Cauldron twined, burning through the darkness like a newborn star.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“But she ignored it, leaning her brow against the cool glass of the window. She let the starlight gently brush her head, her face, her neck. Imagined it running its shimmering fingers down her cheek, as her mother had done for her and her alone.

My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen... You shall wed for conquest.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“I am not a child to be fought over.'

Nesta's pulse pounded throughout her body, 'Do you not remember the war? What we encountered? Do you not remember the Cauldron kidnapping you, bringing you into the heart of Hybern's camp?'

'I do,' Elain said coldly. 'And I remember Feyre rescuing me.'

Roaring erupted in Nesta's head.

For a heartbeat, it appeared that Elain might say something to soften the words. But Nesta cut her off, seething at the pity about to be thrown her way. 'Look who decided to grow claws after all,' she crooned. 'Maybe you've become interesting at last, Elain.'

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain's face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

Elain's eyes brightened with pain. Something imploded in Nesta's chest at that expression. She opened her mouth, as if it could somehow be undone. But Elain said, 'I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?"- Lucien Vanserra”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“He told me that he's got three daughters who live here. And that he failed them for many years. But he would not fail them this time.'

The ships at the front of the human armada became clear, along with the gold lettering on their sides.

'He named his three personal ships after them,' Drakon said with a smile.

And there, sailing at the front... I beheld the names of those ships.

The Feyre.

The Elain.

And leading the charge against Hybern, flying over the waves, unyielding and without an ounce of fear...

The Nesta.

With my father... our father at the helm.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“Elain fell into step beside me, peering at Lucien. He noticed it. 'I heard you made the killing blow,' he said.

Elain studied the trees ahead. 'Nesta did. I just stabbed him.'

Lucien seemed to fumble for a response, but I said to him, 'So where now? Off with Vassa?' I wondered if he'd heard of Tamlin's role- the help he'd given us. A look at my friend showed me he had. Someone, perhaps my mate, had informed him.

Lucien shrugged. 'First- here. To help. Then...' Another glance at Elain. 'Who knows?'

I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted. 'You could come to Velaris.'

He saw all of it, but nodded graciously. 'It would be my pleasure.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“I would like to build a garden,' she declared. 'After all of this... I think the world needs more gardens.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“Elain said to Azriel, 'Hello.'

Az said nothing.

No, he just moved toward her.

Mor tensed beside me.

But Azriel only took Elain's heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, 'Sit. I'll take care of it.'

Elain's hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“Az, this one's for you.'

The shadowsinger's brows lifted, but his scarred hand extended to take the present.

Elain turned from where she'd been spreaking to Nesta. 'Oh, that's from me.'

Azriel's face didn't so much as shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed-

'I had Madja make it for me,' Elain explained. Azriel's brows narrowed at the mention of the family's preferred healer. 'It's a powder to mix in with any drink.'

Silence.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. 'It's for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.'

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.

I'd never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Cassian and Rhys joined him, the former grabbing the bottle from Azriel's hand and examining it. 'Brilliant, 'Cassian said.

Elain smiled again, ducking her head.

Azriel mastered himself enough to say, 'Thank you.' I'd never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and grey like veins of emerald. 'This will be invaluable.'

'Prick, ' Cassian said, but laughed again.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“The black water nipping at her thrashing heels was freezing.

Not the bite of winter chill, or even the burn of solid ice, but something colder. Deeper.

The cold of the gaps between stars, teh cold of a world before light.

The cold of hell- true hell, she realised as she bucked against the strong hands trying to shove her into the Cauldron.

True hell, because that was Elain lying on the stone floor with the red-haired, one-eyed Fae male hovering over her. Because those were pointed ears poking through her sister's sodden gold-brown hair, and an immortal glow radiating from Elain's fair skin.

True hell- worse than the inky depths mere inches from her toes.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“It nearly killed me. It trapped me like a bird in a cage.'

Elain said, 'Then I will find it. I might require some time to reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.'

'Absolutely not,' Nesta spat, fingers curling at her sides. 'Absolutely not.'

'Why?' Elain demanded. 'Shall I tend to my little garden forever?' When Nesta flinched, Elain said, 'You can't have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.'

'Then go off on adventures,' Nesta said. 'Go drink and fuck strangers. But stay away from the Cauldron.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“She'd been prepared to offer the only thing she had to barter to Tomas, if it would have kept Elain from starving. Would have sold her body on the street to anyone who'd pay her enough to feed her sister. Her body had meant nothing to her- nothing, she'd told herself as she'd felt her options closing in. Elain meant everything.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Nesta's stare drifted to the paint flaking off the walls. The intricate little designs. Cassian followed her stare. 'Did Feyre paint that?'

Nesta swallowed, and managed to get out, 'She painted every chance she got. Any extra coins she managed to save went toward paints.'

'Have you ever seen what she's done to the cabin up in the mountains?'

'No.' She'd never been there.

'Feyre painted the whole thing. Just like this. She told me once that there's a dresser here...'

Nesta aimed for the bedroom. 'This one?' Cassian followed her, and gods, it was so cramped and dark and smelly. The bed was still covered with stained linens. The three of them had slept here for years.

Cassian ran a hand over the painted dresser, marvelling. 'She really did paint stars for herself before she knew Rhys was her mate. Before she knew he existed.' His fingers traced the twining vines of flowers on the second drawer. 'Elain's drawer.' They drifted lower, curling over a lick of flame. 'And yours.'

Nesta managed a grunt of confirmation, her chest tight to the point of pain.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Cassian said it might be... good if I came.'

Elain's eyes flickered. 'Did Feyre pay you, like last year?'

'No.' Shame washed through her.

Elain sighed, glancing over Nesta's shoulder to the open doorway across the entry. The party within, only for their small inner circle. 'Please don't upset Feyre. It's her birthday, first of all. And in her state-'

'Oh, fuck you,' Nesta snapped, and then choked.

Elain blinked. Nesta blinked back, horror lurching through her.

And then Elain burst out laughing.

Howling, half-sobbing laughs that sent her bending over at the waist, gasping for breath. Nesta just stared, torn between questions and wanting to throw herself into the icy Sidra. 'I- I'm so sorry-'

Elain held up a hand, wiping her eyes with the other. 'You've never said such a thing to me!' She laughed again. 'I think that's a good sign, isn't it?'

Nesta shook her head slowly, not understanding. Elain just linked her arm through Nesta's and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he'd heard Elain's sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“But I did remember lying down on the beaskin rug once it was done. How I felt Elain's slim body settle next to mine and curl into my side, careful not to touch the bandaged wound in my shoulder. I had not realised how cold I was until her warmth seeped into me.

A moment later, another warm body nestled on my left. Nesta's scent drifted over me, fire and steel and unbending will.

Distantly, I heard Rhys usher everyone out- to join him in checking on Azriel, now under Thesan's care.

I didn't know how long my sisters and I lay there together, just like we had once shared that carved bed in that dilapidated cottage. Then- back then, we had kicked and twisted and fought for any bit of space, any breathing room.

But that morning, as the son rose over the world, we held tight. And did not let go.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“Amren said to her, 'I'm surprised you didn't take the king's head back to have stuffed and hung on your wall.'

Nesta's eyes shot to her.

Mor clicked her tongue. 'Some would consider that joke to be in bad taste, Amren.'

'I saved your asses. I'm entitled to say what I want.'

And with that Amren stalked out of the house and into the city streets.

'The new Amren is even crankier than the old one,' Elain said softly.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“I don't want a mate. I don't want a male.'

She wanted a human man.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“He grinned at me over the giant tiered cake in his arms- over the twenty-one sparkling candles lighting up his face.

Cassian clapped me on the shoulder. 'You thought you could sneak it past us, didn't you?'

I groaned. 'You're all insufferable.'

Elain floated to my side. 'Happy birthday, Feyre.'

My friends- my family- echoed the words as Rhys set the cake on the low-lying table before the fire. I glanced toward my sister. 'Did you...?'

A nod from Elain. 'Nuala did the decorating, though.'

It was then that I realised what the three different tiers had been painted to look like.

On the top: flowers. In the middle: flames.

And on the bottom, widest layer... stars.

The same design of the chest of drawers I'd once painted in that dilapidated cottage. One for each of us- each sister. Those stars and moons sent to me, my mind, by my mate, long before we'd ever met.

'I asked Nuala to do it in that order,' Elain said as the others gathered round. 'Because you're the foundation, the one who lifts us. You always have been.'

My throat tightened unbearably, and I squeezed her hand in answer.

Mor, Cauldron bless her, shouted, 'Make a wish and let us get to the presents!”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“You're nimble on your feet.'

'I took dancing lessons as a girl.'

'Really?'

'We weren't always poor. Until I was fourteen, my father was as rich as a king. They called him the Prince of Merchants.'

He gave her a tentative smile. 'And you were his princess?'

Ice cracked through her. 'No, Elain was his princess. Even Feyre was more his princess than I ever was.'

'And what were you?'

'I was my mother's creature.' She said it with such cold it nearly froze her tongue.

Cassian said carefully, 'What was she like?'

'A worse version of me.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“There was nothing that could have been done to save him, Nesta.'

The words were kindling. Elain had accepted his death as inevitable. She hadn't bothered to fight him, as if he hadn't been worth the effort, precisely as Nesta knew she herself wasn't worth the effort.

This time, Nesta didn't stop the power from shining in her eyes, she shook so violently she had to fist her hands. 'You tell yourself there's nothing that could have been done because it's unbearable to think that you could have saved him, if you'd only deigned to show up a few minutes earlier.' The lie was bitter in her mouth.

It wasn't Elain's fault their father had died. No, that was entirely Nesta's own fault. But if Elain was determined to root out the good in her, then she'd show her sister how ugly she could be. Let a fraction of this agony rip into her.

This was why Elain had chosen Feyre. This.

Feyre had rescued Elain time and again. BUt Nesta had sat by, armed only with her viper's tongue. Sat by while they starved. Sat by when Hybern stole them away and shoved them into the Cauldron. Sat by when Elain had been kidnapped. And when their father had been in Hybern's grip, she had done nothing, nothing to save him, either. Fear had frozen her, blanketing her mind, and she'd let it do so, let it master her, so that by the time her father's neck had snapped, it had been too late. And entirely her fault.

Why wouldn't Elain choose Feyre?”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“She'd failed at everything. But she could do this.

She'd failed her father, failed Feyre for years before that. Failed her mother, she supposed. And with Elain, she'd failed as well: first in letting her get taken by Hybern that night they'd been stolen from their beds; then by letting her go into that Cauldron. Then when the Cauldron had taken her into the heart of Hybern's camp.

She'd failed and failed and failed, and there was no end to it, no end-”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“We won't allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.'

'Eyes can be blinded,' Nesta said.

'Not the ones under my command,' Azriel said with soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation. He'd gone with Feyre into the heart of Hybern's camp to save Elain- he knew the risk. 'We won't make the same mistake twice.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Nesta glanced up the stairs past Feyre. Elain had again opted to remain in her room when Nesta was present, which was just fine. Absolutely, utterly fine. Elain could make her own choices. And had chosen to thoroughly shut the door on Nesta. Even as she fully embraced Feyre and her world. Nesta's chest tightened, but she refused to think of it, acknowledge it. Elain was a like a dog, loyal to whatever master kept her fed and in comfort.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Nesta's throat constricted, and she surveyed the swaying cherry blossoms overhead. Elain would love this place. So many flowers, all in bloom, so much green- the light, vibrant green of new grass- so many birds singing and such warm, buttery sunshine. Nesta felt like a storm cloud standing amid it all. But Elain... The Spring Court had been made for someone like her.

Too bad her sister refused to see her. Nesta would have told Elain to visit this place.

And too bad the lord who ruled these lands was a piece of shit.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“I always thought she was born on the wrong side of the wall,' Elain admitted. 'She made ballrooms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two,' she said, nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly, to Azriel.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Nesta is a wolf who has been locked in a cage her whole life.

'I know,' Cassian said. She was a wolf who had never learned how to be a wolf, thanks to that cage humans called propriety and society. And like any maltreated animal, she bit anyone who came near. Good thing he liked being bitten. Good thing he savoured the bruises and scratches she left on his body every night, and that her unleashing when he was buried in her made him want to answer with his own.

Elain leaned forward. 'You only think you know- you haven't seen her on the dance floor. That's when Nesta truly lets the wolf roam free. When there's music.'

'Really?' Nesta had told him once, when he'd dragged her out of a particular seedy tavern, that she'd been there for the music. He'd ignored her, thinking it an excuse.

'Yes,' Elain said. 'She was trained in dance from a very young age. She loves it, and music. Not in the way I enjoy a waltz or a gavotte, but in the way that performers make an art of it. Nesta could bring an entire ballroom to a halt when she danced with someone.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“No amount of driving her body into the earth would make her good. She knew it. Wondered if he did, too. Wondered if he thought he was trekking out here with her on a fool's errand.

Or maybe it was like one of the ancient stories she'd heard as a child: he a wicked queen's huntsman, leading her into the deep wild before caring out her heart.

She wished he would. Wished someone would cut out the damned thing from her chest. Wished someone would smother the voice that whispered of every horrible thing she had ever done, every awful thought she'd had, every person she'd failed.

She had been born wrong. Had been born with claws and fangs and had never been able to keep from using them, never been able to quell the part of her that roared at betrayal, that could hate and love more violently than anyone ever understood. Elain had been the only one who perhaps grasped it, but now her sister loathed her.

She didn't know how to fix it. How to make any of it right. How to stop being this way.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames