#Amren threatening to eat Lucien is her idea of a joke yes

[flowerflamestars]

Effloresce snippet

Size did not matter. Her gaze came as though at great distance- the sun to a beetle, every tree in the forest to a single, bruised, blade of grass.

Amren. Not the, never the, but with all emphasis just the same. Amren, power of a different world, who'd watched Prythian so long she'd faded into folly and legend, length of a life too long even for fellow immortals to comprehend.

Elain dipped a deep curtsy, but she did not lower her head.

Look away, from that clear predator.

Lucien did not move at all.

"You," Amren said, flashing mother of pearl teeth, her gleaming eyes seeming far too other to be bothered by the hair she tossed out of her view, shifted on sea breeze. "Now you have a face."

Elain dimpled her way. Held, shoulders aching iron, neck prickled with a discomfort, a fear that was pure instinct, moving only when her smile- her grandmother's smile- was met head on in interest.

"Amren," Elain did not swallow, did not show her dry mouth, "We have a gift."

"We?"

A tip of the head. Lucien swept smoothly forward, low, to place the box before her. "Archeron."

"Not him?" Amren addressed only Elain, "Not a treat, a feast, little lost light? I've never tasted the sun and moon in one."

Not a shake, not a waver, Elain imagined Nesta's knife blade frown. The smile that was not a smile at all, gentry cut direct. "House Archeron does not sacrifice it's own."

A snort, gentle derision, melted all of Elain's fear in one blast. All the honor she'd ever had, burnt to nothing by her youngest sister.

Amren watched on, unblinkingly. Elain walked forward, respectful distance damned, and ripped open the lid. Did not flinch at the fresh scent of gore, the neat bed of the finest mortal lace soaking up blood.