#BHINfic

[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere

Lucien X Plus Size F! Reader, Azriel X Plus Size F! Reader

Part 1 Summary: Reader is pulled into Prythian by an unknown force and comes face to face with members of the Night Court. However, the welcome is less than warm.

A/N: This is my first ACOTAR fic and first story I've even considered posting since 2013, so please be gentle. The story is fully outlined, but due to the fact that I work full time and really weird hours updates will be once a month. Use of cisfemale descriptors used. Key: (Y/N)-Your Name, (e/c)-eye color, (h/c)-hair color.

Content Warnings: Minor violence, minor self-harm, mentions of body issues/past self-harm.

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You gathered your belongings as you did everyday before heading into work. ‘Phone, wallet, keys, charger, make-up…’ the list in your head prattled on as you secured each item in the black backpack. Once satisfied that you had everything you needed you swung the leaden object over your left shoulder. Pausing before the near full-length mirror at your door you tucked a strand of (h/c) hair behind you ear. Your (e/c) orbs roamed over for anything that could be out of place. It took a considerable amount of effort not to let your gaze pause on the parts of yourself that you hated. You pulled the dark red sweater down, covering your large and sagging lower belly and too wide hips. You debated on going back to put shapewear on so your muffin top didn’t hang over your dark black skinny jeans too much, but you were already running late. You quickly slipped your dress flats on to your feet as you whispered a small affirmation to yourself. ‘Everything happens for a reason.’

You were not looking forward to today. The laundry list of to-do tasks was miles long. Hours of work meetings, followed by even more hours of research and writing for your thesis. You were always writing. You paused again to double check that you had the required USB drive that held your many months’ worth of research. A quick glance reassured it was safely tucked away on the hook in your pack, and you stiffly grasped the handle of the front door. No sooner than pulling the door open, your feet tripped over the lip of the frame, and you plummeted down through the threshold.

Bracing for a faceplant against concrete, you were surprised to find soft grass under your fingertips. The grass was a deep rich shade of green and still held the wetness of early morning-dew. Slowly lifting your head, you glanced around the spot where you fell. You immediately noticed that you were no longer at the threshold of your duplex if the wide expanse of grass was to be trusted. Slower still, you raised yourself up on your knees. The sky you looked at was now clear of the pale grey clouds you spied out of your bedroom window only minutes before. The bright yellow-white sun was high enough above to indicate that it was midday. A chilled and briny breeze floated across your shoulders and caused strands of your hair to blow away from your face. You pushed your glasses a little further up the bridge of your nose as you took in the distant buildings to your left. Not a single one of the simple brick and mortar buildings appeared to be more than 3 to 4 floors in height. Further down you could make out some shops and an open square. It reminded you more of a smaller European town than of a bustling city suburb. Yet the buzz in the air told you that there was much more than what met your eyes. You could only make out a few figures as they darted through a bustling crowd. Despite the feeling that there were a large number of inhabitants in the city beyond, there wasn’t a single sound of a motorized vehicle. Your head tilted up to examine the vast blueness above you, looking for any sign of the planes that constantly passed over your home, but the sky was also empty. You held your breath, willing for the sound of a jet engine to be heard in the distance. All was silent, except for the brush of the wind and bubbling of water. You turned toward your right an observed a large house that sat just along the river’s edge. Your eyes followed the winding path of the turquoise water as it stretched into a decent sized bay, complete with docks and what appeared to be old wooden sailing ships. You felt like you had stepped back in time.

Panic began to seep into your bones. You could clearly tell that you were no longer in your own city, but where you were…that was wholly unknown to you. Was this even real? Maybe you hit your head when you tripped and this is all just some dream. Yeah, that had to be it. You reached for the backpack that had landed at your side when a shadow flew over you. A heavy thud was heard to your right and your head whipped up to look at the dark silhouette that now towered over head. You initially thought there had been the shape of wings along the figure’s outline, but after blinking away the shards of sunlight that your hand didn’t block, you determined that it must have been your imagination.

“Well hello there,” a velvety smooth tenor reached your ears, “You’re not an associate of Ms. Quinlan’s, are you?”

                “W-What?” Your voice trembled, a strong metallic scent radiated from the man as he knelt down. Your breath caught in your throat. He was absolutely stunning. You mentally slapped yourself after feeling your jaw literally drop. You could have sworn his eyes held flecks of starlight in them. However, his humorless chuckle sent a shiver down your spine.

                “Do you know Bryce?” He surveyed you this time.

                “I don’t…I don’t know any Bryce,” You couldn’t help the rise of your flight response start to kick in, “Where am I?” A part of you didn’t dare look away, but you had to gage your possible exits out of the periphery of your vision.  The man continued to stare and evaluate you. You swallowed thickly in an attempt to clear the non-existent obstruction that was your unease and opened your mouth to ask another question. Before you could speak the man cut you off, placing his hands in his pockets.

                “If you’re not here for or because of Bryce,” Something about his darkened expression filled your bones with fear, “then, unfortunately, I’m not in a position to readily trust you. I must protect my people. I hope you understand that my actions are nothing personal.” Confusion laced your features at his words and you clutched your bag tightly against your chest.

Without warning your entire body froze as what felt like ice cold claws scratched against the surface of your skull. Fear gripped you tightly, the need to run or fight back utterly demolished as you locked eyes with the man. He truly didn’t appear to be bothered in the slightest over how terrified you were.

‘Mother above…he’s going to kill me.’ Your mind reeled and you were certain that you would have emptied your bladder had you not done so before exiting your home. You couldn’t get your voice to cooperate, to beg for mercy as the claws gripped your skull harder. You couldn’t even scream as you felt the flesh tear near your right temple. Your heart beat erratically, hoping it would give out before you could feel any of the pain that was sure to accompany your death. It took all of your mental strength to dampen the fear down and whisper the prayer you incorporated into your own practice so long ago.

“Mother hold me, let me pass through the gates into that immortal land of milk and honey. Let me fear no evil, feel no pain, and let me enter eternity.” Eyes still locked with the man you saw a glimmer of…you honestly had no clue what emotion it was that passed over his expression. But as soon as it passed the feeling of the claws were gone and air rushed back into your lungs. The man stood to his full height and continue to stare at your gasping form. A rush of nausea swept over you and you heaved. The stomach acid burned your throat more than normal after not eating anything for well over 24 hours.

You spit the remaining mucus onto the grass and you were suddenly hauled up to your feet. His grip on your forearm was so tight you could already feel the bruises forming. While the man’s features appeared calm and unbothered, his eyes simmered with caution. However, he remained silent as darkness converged on you both. Your stomach rolled and plummeted with the sensation of your body in free fall, but the man’s grip never lessened. Suddenly your feet impacted against solid stone. Your vision blurred and your other arm reached out towards anything to purchase itself to keep you up right. Your throat burned again but the stomach acid never reached your mouth. Your outstretched hand finally found a wall and you clung onto it for dear life.

The surface was cool and rough to the touch. You chanced a glance around and found yourself in a small dimly lit room. The walls and floor appeared to have been carved directly out of the stone. The dampness to the air clued you in that you were not inside a building, but some structure more akin to a cave. The room held no furniture, unless you counted the metal sconce that held the only source of light. You did a double take as the light itself was strange, appearing to be condensed to the size of a lightbulb, but it was quickly obvious that there was no material encasing its source. Was there even a- your thoughts were interrupted by the screeching of metal hinges as a single wooden door swung open.

A second man appeared in the entry way and ducked down to avoid hitting his head on the top of the frame. Once he was fully inside the room you couldn’t believe your eyes. You blinked several times yet the insanely large bat like wings never disappeared. You attempted to take in his dark appearance, but shadows seemed to swirl around him. He wore a scaly leather outfit that appeared to be some type of armor. You couldn’t tell if it was multiple pieces or a single body suit in the dim silver light, but that didn’t matter as soon as you saw the first of the seven blue stones intermingled into his outfit. Your eyes widened. The first man handed the newcomer your bag, allowing you to get a good look at his winged back. You immediately noticed there were no straps that held the wings in place. Nor were they attached to the clothing he wore, but rather connected to and protruding from the skin underneath. With this realization the room spun as their soft voices drifted over towards you, but you couldn’t make out what was said as your knees gave out and everything went dark.

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When you finally awoke the room was cold, dark, and damp; which sadly reminded you that recent events weren’t just a dream. You found that you were now alone, but weren’t sure if that was a good sign. There was no telling if either of the men-no males- would come back. A part of you hoped that someone would at least give you answers, even if just to tell you that you would rot away in this cell. If that was the case, why didn’t the first male just follow through with killing you? What caused him to stop and bring you to this place you now found yourself? Unsure of what to expect you backed yourself up into a corner on the opposite side from the door. A dim light filtered through the wood panels and space between the door and ground. You could hardly call what you sat upon a floor given all the dirt and rocks. Unfortunately, it did little to comfort you while the room was largely in shadow. Despite your best efforts and desire to make yourself as small as possible, your round and plump frame wouldn’t allow you to curl your knees towards your chest. So, you opted instead to sit with your legs stretched out in front of you, ankles crossed. A false picture of being unperturbed with your current circumstances. The longer you sat there in the silence, the more your anxiety seeped into your muscles. You shook your foot trying to expel the nervous energy. Your ears strained for any semblance for sounds of life beyond the door. Surely there had to be other prisoners or guards. Unless you really were just left for dead. You fought back the tears that welled up in your eyes.

                “This is fucked,” You mumbled, “I’m fucked. What the hell is happening?” You could feel the panic rise up your throat. Your heartbeat increased and your breath became shallow. You ran your fingers through your hair, pulling at the roots. Tiny pin pricks of pain blossomed as the (h/c) strands became taut. You felt pain, or rather discomfort. You’ve felt that in your extremely vivid dreams before, but it gave you an idea. Moving on to your hands and knees you began to feel around for any rocks or other items you could use. If you could find something and make it sharp enough, maybe you could wake yourself. The door looked the same, but maybe it was different. Maybe you werein a different REM cycle, meaning a different dream that just piggy backed off the first. Afterall, there was no way to determine if the male that took you was going to come back. ‘This has to be a nightmare.’

“Please, please let there be something,” You crawled through the darkness, eyes straining to make out any shapes. Your hands finally found a smooth stone about the size of your palm. In the darkness you couldn’t tell if it was granite or something else, so you went ahead and bashed the side against the stone of your cell wall. The side of the object splintered off as if the stone was made of glass.

“Obsidian…” You smiled to yourself. The obsidian shard would be sharp enough to draw blood wherever you managed to drag it along your skin.

“Where to cut, where to cut…” You felt along your body, the scars on your covered legs sang with expectation. Were you willing to risk taking off your pants in this place though? Were you willing to take off any of your clothing? Finally deciding against the removal of your clothes you crawled over to the door and lowered your hands to the soft light that filtered through. Pressing the shard against the palm of your left hand you hoped that there would be no feeling as you dragged it against the skin. Oh, how wrong you were.

“Fuck!” A searing pain erupted over your hand as the makeshift blade tore at the skin. You sucked in a breath through your teeth as blood pooled at the seams of the cut. The obsidian hit the ground.

“Why did you do that?” A deep tenor filled the space near the back of your cell and you screamed. The sconce on the wall lit up. Your head whipped around to the opposite corner from where you had been sitting. Your eyes took in the retreating shadows as they revealed the male that you really didn’t want to see. The cobalt stones again caught your eye as your gazed wondered over his form. The wings were still there. You cradled your bleeding hand and you backed away from the known male that stared you down. You figured that you were about to pass out again as the shadows behind him seemed to writhe and undulate around his frame.

“Don’t come any closer,” You tried to keep your voice steady, but you wanted to kick yourself for how pathetic you sounded. The male rolled his eyes and walked towards you before crouching down. His wings stretched out and angled themselves so as to not drag along the stone beneath. The sight of their movement took your breath away. They were real. All of this was real. He grabbed your hand and began to exam it. Your attempts to pull it back failed as his grip was tight. Clicking his tongue against his teeth he locked eyes with you, hazel orbs boring into your own. Despite yourself you noted just how attractive he was as he continued to scrutinize you. He continued to look at you expectantly and you realized that he must have asked you a second question. He sighed and gave you back your hand.

“I’ll be right back,” He stood and left. As soon as the door shut you scrambled to your feet and retreated back to your corner. Had he been in the room with you the entire time? If so, why was the light off? And…you felt pain in your hand. You glanced down at the jagged cut, the blood had yet to start to congeal and clot, but it was superficial at best. Honestly nothing to worry about. You’ve done worse to yourself before. But…you felt pain. Real pain, not just a semblance of a memory of pain as you’ve dreamt of before. This was no dream. Everything pointed to this being a very real place. And you were in very real trouble. Especially if you ended up in-

A soft knock on the door brought you out of your thoughts. Whomever was there didn’t wait for you to respond as they entered. A man-no again male- with long red hair and almost equally red-brown eyes walked into the room. He wore a simple off-white billowy linen shirt that appeared as if it was from the Renaissance or possibly the Victorian era. Honestly, you were really sure. The history of the fashion industry wasn’t your area of expertise.  He also wore a simple pair of dark brown pants. He was definitely different compared to your captor and the winged male. He appeared…warmer. Maybe it was the soft smile that graced his lips. However, his eyes-which you now saw that the left had a long scar that ran down towards his jaw- held a certain sense of sadness to them. Pity.

“Hello,” He held out his hand towards you as he cautiously approached, “Can I take a look at your hand?” He seemed friendly enough, but you still pulled your hand closer toward your chest. You shook your head and backed away, not trusting your voice. The red head looked back at the door, where you saw the winged male patiently waiting.

“She does understand our language correct?” He turned back towards you after receiving an affirming nod from his companion. He took a tentative step closer. You felt like you were being treated like a wild animal.

“Stop!” You hissed, “I’m perfectly fine. You can leave.” The male just stood, his gaze trailing to the blood that dripped down your forearm.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” He stated, “I need to heal your hand. Will you let me do that?” You paused.

“What do you care if it heals?” You squeezed your hand into a protective fist causing blood to gush out faster, “Isn’t it easier to just let me be?”

“Honestly I don’t care,” His demeanor changed like the flick of a switch, “If you don’t want help then that is your choice. My question then is why cut yourself in the first place?” You held his stare. You didn’t want to answer, knowing that it wouldn’t make any sense to the stranger.

“This is going no where Lucien,” the winged male finally re-entered the room, “Just heal her hand so I can begin my questioning.” Lucien scoffed, but did as requested. Grabbing your wrist, he tugged you away from the corner you backed yourself into. You held your breath as he pried your fingers open so he could get a look at the cut. You honestly tried to pull your hand free, but he was clearly much stronger than you. Almost unnaturally so. You were left with nothing to do but to watch. You heard a faint whirring sound, before he hovered his free hand over the injury. A warmth enveloped your open palm and was accompanied by a slight metallic scent to the air. Within seconds your skin had stitched itself back together. All that remained was the trail of drying blood. You stared at the healed skin, mind racing with jumbled thoughts. It didn’t make sense. Nothing in the world could do that. It was like…magic. Your breath caught in your throat. Just where the hell were you. You flicked your gaze back to Lucien standing before you, only this time you noted the golden mechanical eye and the arch of his ears. The pointed arch of his ears. The jumbled thoughts became cloudy and you felt darkness start to descend.

*****************************************************************

“There,” Lucien let go of her hand, which was something that he would immediately regret. It took less than 30 seconds for her wide (e/c) eyes to flutter shut. He watched as her knees gave out as she crashed towards the ground. His reflexes were fast enough to allow him to catch her before her head hit the hard stone. Azriel was immediately crouching next to him.

“That’s the second time she’s fainted,” He whispered, cursing under his breath. He removed her outer sweater and placed it under her head before standing up to speak to the male beside him. 

“How long has she been down here?” Lucien questioned also rising to his feet. This didn’t sit well with him. The woman was clearly frightened, and there was no absolutely no trace of any lingering magic emanating from her. So why was she being kept beneath the throne room in the Hewn City?

“A few hours,” Azriel explained, “Rhys found her this morning. According to him, she literally just appeared. Much in the same way Bryce did. Fell flat on her face outside their home on the Sidra’s edge.” Her face was pale, honestly, too pale for Lucien’s liking. He knelt down beside her, straightening out her legs so they weren’t tucked under at an odd angle.

“Does Feyre know?” The Shadowsinger remained quiet. Lucien looked up at the male. Azriel couldn’t meet his eyes. That wasn’t a good sign. There was no way that Feyre would be comfortable with having a defenseless and harmless human female locked away. It was unusual for Rhysand to keep things from his mate, not without there being a definitive threat.

“This human has no magic. Absolutely none. She’s completely powerless,” He spat out, “There are no traces of any spells surrounding her either. Whatever brought her here, she had no control over. Its likely she had no knowledge of what was happening either.”

“That’s what I need to find out,” Azriel stated simply. If he was irritated with Lucien’s outburst he didn’t let on. “So now that she’s healed and you’ve completed your assessment, you can leave.” This really didn’t sit well with him. Bryce had been brought right into their family home when she arrived. So, what was it about this human that set the High Lord on such edge that she’d been banished from what would probably be the safest place for a human in Prythian? Lucien really didn’t like what was happening, but knew better than to argue with the Spymaster. If anyone did get answers out of the woman it was going to be him. However, he wouldn’t let this injustice go to the way side. So, without so much as a word to the Shadowsinger, Lucien left the cell. He was determined to have a very stern word with the High Lord.

Part 2

[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere- Pt2

Lucien x Plus Size F! Reader, Azriel x Plus Size F! Reader

Part 1

Part 2 Summary: Lucien and Rhysand argue over Reader's imprisonment, only one cell is traded for another. Lucien reaches out to an unlikely alley for support in getting Reader free.

A/N: I was too excited to wait the full month so here is part two a bit early! I apologize that this gets a bit dialogue heavy at the end. I may fix it later. This is going to be a long slow burn fic with a lot of angst. This will also have crossover with some of the Crescent City characters. It also probably goes without saying, but this will not follow canon past the events in HOSAB. Comment on this post if you want to be included on the tag list.

Content Warnings: Mentions of injuries, mentions of self harm, mentions of body issues/insecurities.

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Seven days. Seven days he’d been arguing and advocating for her release with Rhysand. For seven days he listened to the same rehearsed list of excuses as to why Rhys wouldn’t budge in his decision.

“You and I both know that the gate to Velaris was sealed with blood magic. Only those whose blood is linked to the seal can pass through, which she shouldn’t have been able to do. On top of that we don’t know what world she came from. I’m not risking the lives of my family-my court, which includes you- on what equates to no more than a hunch.”  

While the High Lord’s statements were reasonable and valid points, his insistence she remained confined in that dark and dank cell was not. Lucien hastily made his way down the main steps that lead into the catacombs, thoughts of his last spat with Rhysand swirling in his mind.

“Why do you care so much about what happens to this woman?” Rhys had questioned. Lucien had asked himself the same thing; but how could he say that it was less about her and more about what she represented? That when he saw her cowering form in the corner of that cell, images of Feyre, Elain, and Jesminda flashed through his mind. He had failed the two sisters. He had failed his first love. He would sooner have the Cauldron blast him from existence should he fail to protect another innocent female. He’d kept his composure standing in Rhysand’s office at the River House long enough. A simmering rage permeated the space as the raven-haired male stared him down. A silent challenge in the already tense atmosphere.

“How can you stand your own hypocrisy?” He seethed, “You sit there thinking of yourself so high and mighty, yet a simple human frightens you? You allowed Feyre into Velaris the second week she spent with you. You allowed Bryce into your home within minutes of her crashing into our world. Yet this human…this woman scares you so much you have her imprisoned in one of the most dangerous areas of your court?”

“ENOUGH!” Rhysand bellowed, his own violet orbs simmered with rage. Lucien felt his flames rise up and encircle his palms. Rhysand’s High Lord command held no sway so he continued.

“Are you that much of a coward that you could not have just asked her a few simple questions? You couldn’t have just looked into her-”

“I could not enter her mind!” Rhys’ breaths were ragged. “Something is protecting that mortal, and it is strong enough to keep me out. So long as those shields of hers remain impenetrable I cannot trust her. I must keep my mate and child safe.” Lucien scoffed, his fire dwindled. “Which is not something I can say I see you doing for your own.”  

Lucien could still feel the cracking of bone and cartilage of Rhys’ nose as it connected with his fist. The argument surly would have resulted in them demolishing the entirety of the business wing had Azriel’s arrival not stopped the two males in their tracks. The Shadowsinger’s haggard appearance set them both on edge, but his words allowed Lucien to breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m done with this Rhys. I cannot keep hur- I cannot do this… she knows nothing.” The High Lord merely looked between the Emissary and the Spymaster. Expression relaxed and revealing nothing, even as blood dripped over his lips.

“Bring her up to the Moonstone Palace,” the commanded was towards his brother, “Since Lucien is so smitten with the woman he shall remain with her there for the time being.”

Lucien soon found himself outside of her cell. Only darkness and cold emanated from beyond the door. He paused his own breathing, wondering if she was even still alive. The last time he saw her, she hadn’t hesitated to slice open her own skin. Azriel wasn’t far behind and pushed past Lucien to enter the room. Lucien’s breath remained caught in his throat as he took in the mangled sight of her.

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You had no idea how long you’d been in the darkness of your cell. Hours had turned into days, but just how many days you weren’t sure. You had gone silent on what you assumed was the third day. You knew nothing of how you got there, and you had no idea where to begin when Azriel-who’s name you gathered early on-asked you about the world you came from. Its not like he would believe you if you said your world had no magic, at least not in the same way it was here. Then again, that was clearly an incorrect assumption on your part. And after everything that has transpired you determined that this was no dream. It was a nightmare come to life. You weren’t sure how much more your psyche could tolerate. Surely death would be better than the horrors that would plague your mind for years to come if you were allowed to live. You prayed silently to whatever deity would listen to let you die. You started as the metal hinges of the door screamed into the darkness. 

“Mother above,” The horrified yet soft baritone drifted to your ears and you strained to open your eyes. You recognized the voice and Lucien’s warm body was immediately next to yours as you dangled from the ceiling. The male made quick work of the metal shackles holding your wrists high above your head, a bright light flooding the small space making you hiss. His large hand encircled your wrist and you could feel the skin repair itself. Lucien slowly lowered your arms down.

“Her name is (Y/N),” Azriel’s voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was ashamed of the space his normal speaking voice would take up in the small cell. As if what he said would break you further. Lucien held you up, warm hands around your rib cage holding you steady. 

“(Y/N),” His testing of your name tentative, “(Y/N), my name is Lucien…I’m going to take you out of here.” His arms wrapped around you, and you could have sworn you felt your skin get warmer, the cold melting away like ice. His grip never lessened, which you were grateful for as you weren’t sure your legs could fully support your weight.

“Do you feel safe enough to come with me?”  You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move your head in agreement. Couldn’t specify that you felt safe with him. You could only muster enough strength to cling to the front of his shirt, hoping it conveyed your trust towards him and him alone. Your eyes burned with tears. He shushed you as one of his hands rubbed up and down your spine. A footstep echoed in the chamber, and then you felt Azriel’s shadows attempt to wend their way over your bare feet. Your flinch was followed by a low warning growl, one that you felt more than heard.

“Follow me,” Azriel’s swallow was audible.

“Can you walk?” Lucien’s hand lowered to your waist, pushing you back far enough so he could meet your eyes. They felt swollen and your vision was unfocused and hazy, but you tried to keep them open so he could see that you would try your best. You shifted your weight back onto your heels and slowly slid your right foot in front of you. A lightning like bolt of pain traveled up your leg. Air harshly sucked into your lungs.

“I’ve got you,” his voice was reassuring as he continued to support most of your weigh in his arms. You took another step forward. Then another and another. His hands never faltered from their place on your torso as he moved himself to walk behind you. Ready and poised to keep you balanced and catch you should you fall. “Good girl,” he praised, “Let’s get you cleaned up so I can heal you yeah?”

           ***************************************************

The walk up from the catacombs to the palace proper was brutal. Your legs burned from the muscle strain and you were regretting not accepting help from Lucien while you bathed. However, the last thing you wanted was to have anyone see you naked. Lucien had helped enough with getting the large sunken in bathtub filled. The scent of vanilla and lavender contrasted with the grime and dirt that filled your lungs for the last week. You had specifically asked for the water to be scalding, wanting it to burn away the memory of everything that had been done to you in the dark. The deep cold that laced your bones was finally seeping out in the hot water. A soft knock rapped on the stone archway leading into the bathing chamber. Unable to move your neck freely you covered your chest and turned to face the male. He walked over to the bench set near the tub, a bundle of cream-colored fabric in his arms. Unless it was a bedsheet you doubted that any clothing he found would fit you. Then again, magic existed so its possible that the fabric could be altered instantly. He sat on the bench and set the garment next to the towel that awaited you.

“Are you certain that I can’t be of assistance?” He looked beyond you towards the open windows that overlooked the absolutely stunning expanse of wilderness below the palace. A darkened city jutting out from the base of the mountains the only thing that disrupted the sight. You were thankful for Lucien’s offer. Truly you were, and despite the feeling-knowing- that you could trust the male, your self-conscious nature surrounding your body was too strong.

“I-” You cleared your throat of the gravel you were certain had lodged itself inside from screaming against the rocky surface of your cell, “I’m good.” The vibration of your vocal chords felt like sandpaper as they rubbed together. He looked at you then and reflexively you squeezed your arms tighter around yourself; gripping your elbows as you dipped down into the water until everything below your neck was submerged. You were grateful for the tub size making you look small. It could easily fit two full grown adults and deep enough to reach your waist when you stood to full height. It almost reminded you more of a jacuzzi rather than a bathtub.

“Then I’ll leave you to bathe in peace,” He stood and clasped his hands behind his back, “I’ll be in the room just beyond these arches. Just call our if you need anything. I’m here to ensure that you’re taken care of.” You nodded your understanding and turned towards the side of the tub lined with soaps and lotions, his foot steps retreating against the stone tiles. While you had difficulty with your range of motion, you managed to rid yourself of the dirt, grime, and dried blood from your skin. Your hair felt silky, soft, and light compared to the heavy oily mats from not washing it for a week. You had also found a razor nearby and took the opportunity to shave, savoring the feeling that you were becoming a person again. Drying off was easier with the relaxed muscles. The vanilla scented lotion felt like heaven as it penetrated your dry skin. You surmised that the bath had really only removed one layer of nightmares as you scanned your form in the mirror on the opposite wall. Your eyes first saw the plethora of cuts in every size cover the expanse of both your arms, shoulders, and collar bone from the dagger-Truth Teller-that Azriel had used during your interrogation. Next you took in the dark red and purple bruise on the left side of your jaw. The discoloration spanning from the joint below your ear to your chin. It was a miracle that he hadn’t knocked any of your teeth out or broken your jaw from the force he hit you with. Eyes trailing further down you saw a second healing bruise, its blue-green hue spanning the length of your ribs on the right side of your body. Laying down on your side was going to prove difficult still. Finally, your eyes landed on the only injury that you yourself were responsible for. The shadows had played too many tricks on your mind, too many whispers promising to break you. The psychological and emotional pain was worse than the physical injuries and honestly became too much for your soul. Something in you broke. You still couldn’t figure out exactly how you managed to grab Truth Teller from him, too focused on plunging the black blade into your left inner thigh and dragging it along the flesh. You couldn’t reach your throat, so you had been aiming for the next major artery you knew of in the hopes that you’d bleed out fast, but Azriel was quick. His attempt to get the blade back from you pushed it away from where it would do the most damage. That was the last day that Azriel brought any form of weapon with him, and the last day he put his hands on you. Rhysand had only managed to stop the bleeding, but a large and deep jagged slice remained. Had you paid more attention you may not have doubted the guilt that lined his features as he worked to heal you. You didn’t want this to be real. You still held out hope that if you somehow managed to end your life you’d wake up on the cold concrete of the path leading up to your front door. You didn’t belong here.

You shook the memories from your mind and picked up the fabric on the bench. You expected the intrusive thoughts and nightmares, but you didn’t think that they would be plaguing you so immediately. You slipped on the airy cotton tank top and loose-fitting matching shorts. You were indeed surprised they fit as well as they did, let alone fit at all. Your bare feet padded along the cool stone floor and entered the massive bedchamber. The room encapsulated a warmth with its cream and ivory base colors. Splashes of blues, teals, and turquoise giving it a calming effect.  The dark cherry wood of the four-poster bedframe provided an interesting accent color adding to the space. Lucien sat on an ivory colored couch that faced a white marbled fireplace. Sadly, the flames did nothing to help illuminate the space and only seemed to cast heavier shadows. You glanced around the room again and noticed that the bedsheets had been turned down for you, for whenever you were ready to sleep. But you knew you wouldn’t be able to get any real rest with your injuries being what they were. Rhysand had only stopped the bleeding in your thigh. He did nothing for the other injuries. So, Lucien stated he would heal those for you. Carefully walking over, you sat your self on the couch, keeping enough space for another person to sit between you and the crimson haired male. He turned towards you with a slight smile that quickly faltered as he took in your appearance. He moved closer towards you and examined every inch of your skin. His one real eye held no warmth even as a flame seemed to ignite the iris. He took your chin in his hand to get a better look at the bruise on your jaw. His touch was gentle, but even you could tell that the male was furious with what he saw.

“I had hoped some of this had been dirt,” He turned your head to the side, a finger tracing down along the side of your neck. A metallic scent permeated the air as the hand cupped the left side of your face, covering nearly the entire bruise. His gaze slowly traveled down to your shoulders and the cuts that littered and marred the skin of your arms and shoulders. The skin warmed and tingled under his gentle caress. His eyes paused at your torso, no words needed to understand that he wanted to see the injury to your ribs. You carefully gathered the material and lifted as high as your stiff shoulder and neck muscles would allow. His fingers traced the outline of the mark, and you cringed at the touch of his hands moving your fat rolls out of the way so his palms could lay flat against the skin. Embarrassment colored your cheeks. Lucien continued his healing wordlessly. He motioned for you to stand, grasping your calf and propping your leg on the cushion of the couch. Your inner thigh completely exposed to him allowing the full extent of your wound to be seen. You watched as skin healed almost instantly. His gaze then shifted to the healed scars on your upper thigh, near the junction where it met your hip. “Um…y-you can leave those,” you brought your leg back down to stand before the male, “Thank you Lucien.”

“You’re most welcome,” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. You started to pick at your already blunt nails, a nervous habit you used to ground yourself. You glanced around the room for the third time, almost not believing that you were no longer in the cold and dark. The white walls and bedding opened up the space.

“Is…is that for me?” You pointed over towards the massive bed covered in decorative pillows. Lucien’s red hair swayed with the movement of his head as he followed your gesture.

“The bed is for you,” He stood and walked over to the small bedside table to the left of the headboard, “As is this sleeping draft.” He picked up a deep cobalt vial, giving it a slight shake before setting it back down. You hummed and nodded, but didn’t move from your spot in front of the couch. It went without saying that the potion would be needed after what you experienced over the past week. And you would only feel guilty if you woke him in the middle of the night.

“There’s water for you as well,” His voice softened as he noticed your hesitation. You chewed on your lower lip. The sun was still up, but you didn’t know how its position revealed the time of day. Depending on the time of year and how far north, or south, on the planet you were, you estimated it could be anywhere from 3pm to 9pm. You supposed it didn’t really matter as sleep was sleep and you’d likely remain unconscious for several hours, Gods willing at least.

“I will be in the room next to yours,” He pointed over to a door opposite from the entrance to the bathing chamber, “If you need anything, anything at all you come to me. We’ll get you some food in the morning.” You nodded again as your eyes started to water. You didn’t want to be left alone, but you also didn’t want to take up his time more than you already were. So, wordlessly you forced your feet to move and made your way over to the bed. You crawled in under the blankets that had been moved aside. You grabbed the vial from the bedside table and uncorked the stopper. The scent of chamomile, lavender, and something unknown wafted to you. Before you gave yourself time to reconsider you downed half the contents and set it back down. Lucien was patiently waiting at the door and smiled his first genuine smile towards you.

“Goodnight (Y/N).”

“Goodnight Lucien.”

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Lucien had answered all your questions, to the best of his ability, during your first day in the Moonstone Palace. He filled you in on the basics of the Night Court and Prythian. For each bit of information he provided about the land or himself, you matched it. He also informed you that while here, Rhysand insisted that you work on finding any potential information of your world and how to get back to it in the texts that he sent. A new stack of books was brought into the small library within the palace every morning. So far, your hours of reading yielded no results. Then again, you could only read a fraction of the texts given to you. Most were in languages that you couldn’t even begin to understand. Still you scanned the tombs for any words that even looked remotely similar to names of places within your universe. Sadly, all you could find was information related to a Midgard, which was frustratingly NOT the same as the mortal realm described in Norse mythology. Lucien then explained that they had already received visitors from this Midgard that were set to return to Prythian soon. You had gathered that one of them was Bryce, but you’d not been given names for anyone else.

In addition to the books you had also been gifted a small wardrobe filled with clothing in your size. It had been awkward when the half wraiths appeared to measure you. But you were provided with some simple dresses, pants, shirts, and under clothes. Nothing fancy, which you were grateful for. Lucien explained the clothes were an apology gift from Rhysand. You told Lucien that if the High Lord was truly sorry he could at least express as much to your face. You couldn’t complain in the grand scheme of things. Rhysand wasn’t obligated to house, feed, or clothe you. He could have easily dumped you in the Mortal Lands, leaving you to fend for yourself. Although, Lucien stated that he knew of two people that would have taken you into their care. Regardless, you did as Rhysand bid, reading for hours day after day and never asked for anything in particular.

Another two weeks went by and you and Lucien developed a little routine. Breakfast followed by hours of research. Then lunch and various exercises and tests to determine if you held any sort of latent magic. Lucien explained that his initial assessment of you that first day showed nothing, but that didn’t mean you were completely without power. Truth be told you felt he was keeping something from you. Then came dinner, after which you were free to spend your time however you wished. Mostly you spent time on the veranda studying the night sky, letting the wind caress your face and hair. There was one night you swore you heard voices held within the breeze. A song encouraging you that you would find peace again. In your world the night time hours used to provide a comfort, but here there was nothing familiar about the constellations that dotted the dark sky above. Instead, the lack of familiarity just made you feel all the more alone. It wasn’t that Lucien wasn’t good company, you just felt bad that he was stuck with you. He tried really hard to get you to relax and fall into the playful banter he likely needed to survive his own punishment. While he never said as much, you had gathered that his babysitting duty was linked to your release and apology from the High Lord. Lucien made your days easy, filled with witty remarks and a warmth that felt natural. An easy friendship had definitely taken root.

However, the nights were hard. You already suffered from extreme insomnia without the added fear of night terrors. So, your sleep cycle was suffering greatly. The first two nights were dream less thanks to whatever Lucien had given you. But the third night resulted in his bursting through the doors of your bedroom at the sound of your screams. As much as you hated yourself for feeling weak, you begged him to stay in the room. He obliged, of course, and slept on the couch. His presence helped slightly. It didn’t chase away the nightmares, but it did make the darkness that permeated the night more tolerable. You had never been fearful of the night before, having even preferred it to the hustle and bustle of the day. You had always the quite of the night to bring you a comforting serenity. But since your time in the cell…you insisted on a fire in the hearth and the faelights to remain lit, believing the light would chase away the shadows that plagued your dreams.

You felt bad forcing Lucien to sleep on the couch. But you also didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable if you offered to share your bed with him. He told you about his mate, Elain, and you felt even worse that your arrival took him away from her. Even if he explained that their relationship wasn’t what would be expected between mates after nearly 4 years of being in each other’s lives. So, you kept the offer to yourself.

Today started out like any other. Lucien and you sat down to a breakfast of eggs, toast and jam with orange juice. You never really cared for tea and coffee appeared to not be available in Prythian if your companion’s confusion was anything to go by. The only difference today were the two additional place settings.

“Are we expecting visitors?” You asked. You immediately wanted to kick yourself for asking what was an obvious question.

“Yes,” Lucien answered, pouring a cup of tea for himself, “I’ve asked some people to come and meet you. As much as I enjoy our time together, it seems that the High Lord still needs convincing that you should not be kept in a cell.”

“I’m not in a cell,” You countered. However, you didn’t miss the fact that his glare told you that your new cell was just a lavish one.

“Our guests may be able to help me make a stronger case for you to be able to move freely about the court, if not Prythian as a whole.” You pondered who he would have contacted. To your understanding, not many members of the High Lord’s “Inner Circle” particularly cared for the emissary. There was also no way that members from another court would be able to hold any sway over the inner workings of the Night Court.

“So, what do they need to know about me?” You asked, spiking the yoke of your egg. In the time spent with Lucien you were able to be yourself for the most part. You held back on your swearing, meme related jokes, and slang, but tested out your sarcasm and dry humor. One of the main things you were worried about was how to speak with others. While you had manners, you had no formal etiquette training. Something that Lucien found utterly hilarious when you asked for clarification on how to address him.

“Relax, its an informal introduction,” His gentle smile reassured you, “Just be the sweet girl that I’ve come to know.” His smile widened. You gave him a doubtful look, tucking your lips into a thin line to suppress a laugh. He batted his irritatingly long eyelashes and the two of you broke out into a fit of laughter. While you weren’t cold or bitchy by any means, you also weren’t a sweet and demure woman either. No, Lucien quickly pointed out that you had a fire within you…at least on your good days. The laughter was cut short by the sound of a thud in front of you on the stone patio. Your eyes immediately tracked the large bat like wings and you stood from your seat. Metal and glass clanged against the stone as your thighs hit the lip of the table. Your chair knocked to the ground, causing you to nearly trip as you backed towards the metal railing. Blood rushed in your ears and your vision started to tunnel. Lucien was next to you in an instant.

“Hey. Hey," He gripped your right shoulder to keep you steady, “Shh, it’s okay. It's not him. You’re safe.” Your gaze remained fixed on the unknown winged male that looked on with worry etching his features.

“See what you did,” the voice of the female he’d been carrying was distant in your ears. Lucien’s other hand cupped your face, forcing you to turn towards him.

“Eyes on me (Y/N),” He encouraged, “Breathe. There you go.” Your eyes focused on his features; the jagged scar-raised and tight, the deep reds sprinkled amongst the warm honey brown iris. Your breath evened out, and you covered the hand on your cheek with one of your own to let the red head know you were okay. You took another breath and released Lucien. However, his hand remained on your shoulder. You turned back to the couple that stood on the opposite side of the space. At first glance, the winged male held features that you noted were similar to Azriel in regards to skin, hair, and eye color. Although, Azriel’s held more flecks of green than the honey gold of the male before you. The unnamed male was taller and broader, his shoulder-length hair softly jostled in the breeze. Your eyes wandered over to the female that was with him. Her striking blue-grey eyes would have reminded you of steel had it not been for the soft sadness that shown in them at your display. You hadn’t expected to react in the manner you did. Your heart still hammered in your chest. You cleared your throat and smoothed down the front of the simple sage green dress you wore.

“I-I must apologize,” You started, “I guess I…sorry.” You wrung your hands together and looked at your feet.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the female spoke up, "It’s this idiot’s fault. We should have given you a warning.” You nodded slightly in acknowledgment. Lucien’s hand trailed down your arm to your hand. He gave it a quick and gentle squeeze before he bent down to pick up the chair you’d knocked over in your haste to get away.

“(Y/N),” He motioned for you to sit back down, “This is Cassian, the General of the Night Court’s Illyrian army, and Nesta Archeron, Valkyrie, sister to the High Lady and fellow emissary.” Lucien gestured to each as they took their own seats across from yours.

“It’s nice to meet you,” You reached across the table, your hand extended to shake theirs. When neither returned to gesture you pulled back. “Sorry, I’m used to hand shakes as a form of greeting in my world.”

“So, you are from another world?” Cassian asked, scooping some eggs onto a plate and handing it to Nesta.

“Yes, we call it Earth,” you searched the table for a spare fork, yours having fallen to the ground. When you couldn’t find one, Lucien handed you his. You raised your eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged and began to spread a blackberry jam on his toast. “And before you ask, there is no magic, at least not the same as what you’re familiar with. Also, creatures such as fairies-the Fae- shapeshifters, vampires, mermaids, nymphs, and so on - are all non-existent. Just stories that have been reduced to myths.” The two regarded you closely, listening to your spiel. When they didn’t say anything you continued, too nervous to allow silence.

“I’m not sure how I got here. There are stories of humans traveling through portals into the realm of the Fae or other worlds, but they are simply stories. Ones made to keep children out of trouble or explain natural occurrences. All prior to finding scientific explanation, of course. Like the changing of the seasons,” You realized you were now rambling, “or fairy rings-rings of flowers or more often mushrooms…” The three non-humans stared at you.

“Don’t Lu,” you warned as the corner of the male’s full lips ticked up, “Yes, I talk when I’m nervous. Yes, I’m nervous because I really don’t know how I got here. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t understand why…I just…want to go home.” Lucien took your hand in his again, his grip reassuring and comforting.

“That’s what we’re all working on,” He assured, “There is a library that, should we manage to convince Rhys-”

“Wait, she can’t leave here?” Nesta interrupted, her eyes blazed. Cassian tensed in his seat and gave Nesta a warning glance. It was clear that not everyone knew of your predicament.

“She’s restricted to the East Wing of the palace,” Lucien clarified, “There are barriers up that she can’t pass through. Just like what Tamlin did with your sister.” If Nesta had been upset before, she looked down right lethal now. Of course, Lucien had filled in you in on what transpired with Feyre and his former home in the Spring Court. Cassian cleared his throat, his gaze falling to the other male.

“What is it you need from us exactly?” He looked to you, seemingly trying to figure out why you posed such a threat that you required to be locked away.

“I need your voice in your High Lord’s ear. I have no magic, and we’ve tried various ways to test that out.”

“Which you’re welcome to see,” Lucien interrupted.

“Yes. I don’t really know how to use a weapon, nor do I have much interest in doing so. And, as I already mentioned, up until a month ago I firmly believed that yo-the Fae were not real.”

“What did my brother say his reasoning was for holding her here?” The question was directed towards the other male.

“He can’t enter her mind.” Cassian’s surprise was not well hidden, “He believes that something or someone is guarding her-” It was your turn to interrupt your friend.

“If I was being guarded or protected, then whatever was responsible has already failed me,” Your voice was soft. A silence fell across the table, and most of the food had grown cold. You didn’t know what else to do or say to convince the General and the Valkyrie of your innocence. All they had to go on was your and Lucien’s word. Even if you were to demonstrate the exercise that Lucien put you through each afternoon with no results, how would they believe that you weren’t just pretending. A ruse to fool them. You desperately tried to quell the pinpricks of tears behind your eyes. You feared that if Lucien’s efforts failed you’d be sent back to the catacombs or worse left to rot on that-

“(Y/N),” Nesta’s clear and calm voice cut through your thoughts, “I’d like to hear more about where you’re from.” You nodded.

“What would you like to know specifically?”

“Let’s start with you. Your family, your up brining.” She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed comfortably in her lap. You swallowed and nodded again.

“I can do that.” You spent the next few hours pouring every detail of your life to the trio. Most information Lucien already knew, some he didn’t. You talked about your family and your friends. You briefly talked about your work and academic studies in music. This caught the oldest Archeron’s attention, which launched a discussion regarding your dissertation topic. The two males excused themselves as you continued to talk with Nesta. The topic changed to books and Nesta promising to bring you some of the spicier romance novels that she found to enjoy the most on her next visit; to which you were grateful as you desperately needed a reprieve from only reading books provided by Rhysand. Cassian and Lucien eventually returned as you made a raunchy joke that had you and the female High Fae laughing loudly.

“It’s time to go Nes,” Cassian set his hand on her shoulder. He looked to you and smiled. The expression was genuine. After spending the few hours you did with the male, you had concluded that he was much less frightening than the other Illyrian. At least for the time being, that is. Nesta rose from her seat and joined her mate.

“I will speak with my sister,” She told you, her features hard with determination, “It’s not right that you’re kept any where against your will when you’ve done nothing to justify imprisonment.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, “I hope to see you both again soon. I’m certain this fool is getting tired of having to entertain me.” You gave the male a wicked teasing grin. Cassian let out a booming laugh as ‘your fool’ placed his hand to his chest in mock offense.

“And here I thought you loved my company,” He stated. You laughed as you stood to join him at the patio entrance.

“Yeah, yeah,” You brushed him off, the smile still plastered to your face. The two of you said your goodbyes and watched as the guests flew off in the distance.

“I think that went rather well,” you looked to Lucien, “Don’t you?”

“Yes, it did,” He held his arm out for you to take, “Cassian agreed to speak to Rhys. He said that he and Nesta would allow you to stay in their home or at least help you get in and out of the library.” You hummed in response as you slipped your arm around his. Your mind wandered, and you felt lighter than you had since you’d been here. He walked you to your room and began prepping the couch to be his makeshift bed for the evening. The sun was quickly setting, and you hadn’t noticed that you spent the entire day talking. You paused near the entrance to the bathing chamber.

“Lu?” he hummed, looking up at you while shaking out the quilt. “Thank you, for everything.”

“Of course, sweet girl,” You rolled your eyes at the term of endearment.

“That’s sticking now isn’t it?” His russet eye brightened with mischief.

“Now that I know it irks you, yes.” You leveled a glare at his to which he just laughed. You huffed a breath.

“If you’re just going to be mean, you can leave,” You stuck your tongue out at him as you made your way into the bathing room. He continued to laugh as he excused himself to his own rooms. When he returned, you were already snuggled in your bed, breathing deep and steady.

Part 3

Tag list: @jenniferpendragon @impossibelle @sweet-chai-amore @myheartfollower

[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere- Part 5

Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader

Part 5 Summary: After a fight with Lucien, Reader gets to know and bond with the others. Feyre gives her job and she is finally allowed to return to Velaris.

Author's note: So my chapters are likely just going to be between 3k-4k words from now on. Which just means more chapters in the long run, lol. There's some slight Ruhn x Reader, if you squint. Mainly because I have no clue where the terms of endearment came from at the end. I may explore that further in a side story...

Warnings: Angst, accidently injury.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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Feyre and Nyx spent two weeks at the Moonstone Palace with you and those from Midgard. With her there to oversee things, she had sent Lucien back to the Spring Court and Mortal lands to resume his emissary duties. And after your little spat with him, he was all too quick to leave.

“What the fuck Lucien?!” You didn’t give him a chance to breathe after shutting the door to your room that night. You watched as his full lips opened to protest, but you weren’t going to let him. The sting of a betrayal from his lack of confidence in you hurt too much. “First you tell people my personal matters without my permission, then scold me like a child!” The argument had been brewing in you all afternoon. The way he spoke to you, spoke about you, in front of the others had your blood boiling. Did he think that you were a child in need of being reprimanded for speaking out of turn? All you did was point out what that fucktard-

“(Y/N) it wasn’t-,” He followed you into the room.

“I understand informing the healers about my nightmares, but everyone else?” You skirted away from him. You were too pissed off to want to be near him right now. “They are strangers to me, Lu!” You continued to rant, not paying attention to his attempts to speak.

“I am aware of that, but-”

“Are you aware? I am a grown woman, and yet you treated me as if I were some fragile child,” You felt the tears sting your eyes, “Is that what I am to you? I’ll have you know I don’t need to be coddled.”

“Of course, not-” He reached out towards you.

“And I wasn’t threatening Bryce. I didn’t do anything wrong by pointing out the fact that Rhysand nearly killed me due to my lack of knowledge about her.” You began to pace along the side of the bed.

“No one is saying you did,” He took a few steps closer.

“Then why speak to me that way? As if what I said was not supposed to be mentioned,” You whirled towards him.

“(Y/N), can you please let me explain?” He grabbed your elbow in an effort to get you to stop your pacing. But neither your nightmares nor Bryce were the real issues that plagued your racing thoughts. The male before you had violated your trust in the one way that you feared the most. 

“You let him into my room Lucien!” You pulled out of his grasp, your voice cracking with the pained revelation. “The one person that I can’t feel safe around. You let him in! You let him see how weak he has made me! I don’t need others knowing…I don’t want others knowing…” You had just barely gotten used to the idea of Lucien seeing you in such a vulnerable state. The thought of others knowing how broken Azriel made you…

“You know what, I should just take care of myself from now on,” You weren’t even convinced by your own words as you quickly brushed away the tears before they had a chance to fall.  

“I am just trying to help,” He raised his hands in a form of surrender. “They need to see your pain.”  

“My pain?” Something in your chest twisted and cracked. “What do you know of my pain?” Hot rage filled tears broke free and streamed freely down your cheeks.

“(Y/N),” Lucien’s deep timbre was like a caress, one that was desperate to get you to understand. “Feyre and the others…They need to know the extent of what has been done to you.”

“My pain is not yours to exploit!” You didn’t want to understand. You wanted to be angry. Anger filled you with a fire that allowed you to hide the hurt and fear.

“Exploit?” He dared to look personally offended. “Do you…I don’t want to help you-” Your mind, a whirlwind of rage, had it been in a better state would have let him finish his sentence.

“Then don’t!” You wanted to take back the words as soon as they formed on your lips. Darkened feelings swirled and tunneled up from the recesses of a deepening crevice that you thought you had blocked access to years ago. It clouded everything and brought up old insecurities. Ones that you didn’t want to acknowledge were playing out in front you at this very moment. You had always hated feeling dependent upon others. Hated the feeling of being a burden, and you could clearly see that you were just that to Lucien. Of course, he didn’t want to be here. He had other more important duties than to babysit the broken human girl. He had friends, a family, and a mate. All of whom were much more important to him than you.

“I don’t need your pity,” You spat, your voice thick and rough with your own self-loathing, “I don’t need your help. I don’t need you!” But you did need him, and that terrified you.

“(Y/N),” His russet eye filled with regret. “I-I didn’t mean…”

“Yes, you did,” You whispered. Your jaw was tight as you tried to keep your lip from trembling.

“(Y/N)…” His voice was soft, and your heart cracked again.

“Don’t lie to me!” You sobbed, arms wrapping around your middle. The room was silent for the span of a heartbeat.

“Fine,” He spit back at you, losing his usual composure as he stormed towards the door, “You’ve clearly made up your mind on the intention of my actions. I’ll leave you to your misery as you wish.”

You had cried yourself to sleep that night. While you tried not to let his absence get to you, the next few nights spent alone were filled with terror. You had barely slept, even with the aid of the sleeping tonic that was provided with by the healers. The nightmares had only continued to rip you from slumber within minutes of drifting off. All the tonic did was paralyze you inside your body, while the shadows took the forms of monsters drenched in moonlight. The warmth and light that Lucien brought you was now gone. So, to avoid the nightmares you avoided sleep. And the best way to do that meant keeping yourself busy.

To you, keeping busy also meant making yourself useful. So, you went to see what assistance you could provide to those from Midgard. Which really just ended up being Ruhn as you wanted to give the mated couple their space. It took two days for him to say anything to you after that initial meeting. And while you wanted to ask him what his issue was, it appeared that it was a story he was not willing to speak on just yet.

Once you started talking, you got along surprisingly well with the male. He was easy to talk to, just as Lucien had been. The two of you shared a similar sense of humor, slightly sarcastic and just on the verge of being dark.  He was more open than Bryce was about life on Midgard, which you were able to confirm had similar technological advancements to your own world. Although, you had been disappointment to learn that their technology was powered by Firstlight and not electricity. Which to you, Firstlight just sounded like magic. Which left you to conclude there was no way to power your own cell phone once the battery was fully drained. The portable charger you had ran out of juice the night before after fully charging the smart device. Now, you had approximately 75% battery left. Still, you used some of the power it had left to share your musical tastes alongside Bryce and Ruhn. Nesta had been just as curious as to the music of your world, noting how there were similarities between all three of your respective worlds. Primarily in regards to the "classical" genres. Overall, you felt comfortable and at ease around Ruhn. Surprisingly, when you first saw the misty shadows that curled around him, you hadn’t recoiled from their touch when he demonstrated his ability to utilities them. There was a completely different feel to them compared to Azriel’s. You attributed that to a clear lack of sentience, which allowed them to feel warmer somehow. Despite the budding friendship, you hadn’t fully allowed yourself to share your vulnerabilities with Ruhn. You weren’t ready to make the same mistake of letting someone in too quickly as you had with Lucien. Not when it was clear they wouldn’t be sticking around long enough for it to even matter.

When those from Midgard were busy, you then assisted Feyre with Nyx. It started after he had a particularly difficult day with teething. The three of you had been eating lunch when the child continued to cry. You could tell the new mother was starting to become flustered as she bounced and shushed him. But nothing she did appeared to sooth the child. You had noticed the way he chewed on his balled-up fist and asked if you could try something. While she was hesitant, Feyre handed you the 11-month-old babe. You took a cloth napkin and dipped it in your water glass before asking the High Lady to slightly freeze the fabric. Once frozen, you wrapped it around your pinky finger and stuck it in the wailing child’s mouth, making sure to gently massage the back part of his gums. He quickly took over chewing on your finger and finally started to settle. Your make shift teething toy worked as well as you had hoped, but it was when you started to sing that had endeared you to the boy. Feyre had sat in awe at how quickly Nyx calmed and studied you with rapt attention. The soft melody floating on the wind and the warm timber of your voice entranced the child. That was all it took to win him over. At each subsequent meal, after you had finished eating, Nyx would stretch his arms out towards you. Which quickly lead to his wanting to be held by you every time he saw you. Your mealtime songs soon became bedtime lullabies. By the end of the first week there was no doubt that Nyx absolutely adored you, and you adored him in return. It was due to your fast and unique bond with the child that Feyre offered you the position of being a part-time nanny and offered you a room in their Town House in Velaris.

Which is where you found yourself now, tucked into a bedroom that reminded you more of the simplicity of your apartment rather than the opulence of the Moonstone Palace. Rhysand had not been too happy, but relented when his mate insisted. She had later explained that she had showed him her memories of you with Nyx and how important it would be for her to get back to her duties as High Lady, if even just on a part time basis.

You had just finished hanging up the last of your dresses when you heard Cassian’s booming voice echo up the staircase quickly followed by Nesta instructing him to keep his voice down lest he disturb you. Their voices were soon followed by Bryce and Hunt’s greeting towards Rhysand. You heard the door to the High Lord’s office shut and the hall was silent yet again. You decided that now was as good a time as any to get a glass of water and an apple from the kitchen. It wasn’t that you were avoiding-actually that was a lie. You were avoiding two individuals specifically. You had yet to speak with Rhysand since he had stopped your bleeding all those weeks ago. And you had not seen Azriel, despite the fact that he had seen you. You didn’t know what you would do, or how you would react if you saw the Shadowsinger. You had nearly gone into a full blown panic attack at the sight of Cassian, who had merely resembled Azriel at first glance. The only thing that had kept you from crashing down into that pit was Lucien, who was now back to residing in the Mortal lands on the opposite side of the small continent of which Prythian was located.

You descended the staircase as quietly as you could, fearful that someone would come out to investigate any noise. You doubted your stealth abilities though. It was likely that someone picked up your presence as the voices died down when you began your descent and picked back up when you made it to the landing near the foyer. Once in the kitchen it wasn’t difficult to find what you needed. You were grateful for the fact that the town house had running water from what appeared to be modern style plumbing. You filled a glass from the tap and drank about half in one large gulp. You filled it to the top again and grabbed an apple from the countertop before you made your way back up the stairs. This time you didn’t bother to hide your footsteps. Which oddly enough, seemed to have not been heard given the muffled cacophony of voices from inside the office. You paused just two steps below the doorframe when you heard your name.

“I can’t believe that you still feel threatened by her,” Nesta’s voice was muffled, but you could still hear the exasperated tone. “You are currently the only one that is.”

“Amren and Mor have yet to meet her,” Rhysand’s tenor sounded just as annoyed as Nesta. “I will pass my judgement once they do.” Judgement? You hadn’t even realized that you were on trial. Were you not going to be even granted the opportunity to speak on your own behalf? The nerve of this fucking asshole! But your ire quickly merged into fear. What decisions were there to be made? What sort of sentence awaited you? Would you lose your newfound freedom so quickly? Sent to a lifetime of imprisonment on that desolate inescapable island? Your grip tightened on the glass in your hand.

“You said that the gate we set up was sealed with blood magic,” Bryce spoke up. “That only those who’s blood is keyed in, or even shares a substantial amount of blood to one that is keyed in, can pass through.”

“If that’s the case, I think its obvious as to how she passed through,” Ruhn spoke up. “She’s related to someone in this room, except scary shadow dude there. And Hunt.” Blood rushed in your ears. There was no way, absolutely no fucking way you could be related to any one here. They were all a different species for fucks sake. You were a human from a different world, a different reality. Magic was not the same on Earth as it was on Midgard or whatever the fucking name this planet was called. And even if this was to be believed, that you were somehow related to those that originated on this planet…all it did was explain a portion of the ‘how’ you got here. The ‘why’ was still unknown, and honestly the ‘why’ was much more important.

“How would any of your bloodlines have gotten to her world?” Hunt asked. “Midgard has no records of anyone leaving the planet through the Rifts, with the exception of the armies from Hel. And from what Bryce and your people found under that Prison, the members of that court only traveled to Midgard.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Nesta spoke up. “I have a friend that works in our main library. She’s an assistant to a Priestess that had conducted some research on travel to different worlds. According to what she found, there was a second wave of Fae that went missing a whole generation later, but they were from the large continent to the east of Prythian.”

“Even so,” Azriel’s voice sent a chill down your spine. “Her blood should be too diluted to have triggered the blood seal. She’s mortal, not Fae.” His words were cold, but the truth.  

“What proof do you have of that?” Ruhn challenged. “Did your slicing and dicing of her skin reveal that tidbit of information?”

“Dude,” his sister spoke up, “Chill.” Azriel didn’t respond. You felt the air hum with electricity despite being on the other side of the door. Your breathing became shallow.

“How would anyone go about proving that?” Cassian asked.

“We can in Midgard,” Hunt spoke up. “DNA blood tests are used on Vanir and even those with mixed heritage prior to the Drop.”

“She’d have to go with us,” Ruhn stated. “Which is a huge no-go right now. We, unfortunately, need to lay low for a bit.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? We can’t waste time on figuring out who she is,” Bryce interjected. “We need to find a way to Hel. We need to stop the Asteri before they destroy Midgard and find their way back here. I vote that someone goes to talk to that guy at the lake.” Your stomach dropped, but you were grateful to Bryce. She was right in that you should be the least of their concerns given what you currently understood of their conversation.

“Figuring out who she is may lead us to those answers,” Rhys’ voice remained annoyed. “And no one is to make contact with Koschei until we have that information. For all we know-”

“Stop talking Rhys,” Azriel warned. The next thing you knew the door to the office was flung open and a pair of captivating hazel-green eyes met yours. The glass slipped from your hands and shattered on the stairs. The breath ripped from your lungs as your brain caught up to the fact that Azriel stood in front of you. The apple was next to fall, bouncing down the steps. Your body screamed for you to run, but you could only manage slow movements. Acting on the instinct to not make any sudden movements lest the predator in front of you strike. You backed away down the stairs, one hand glued to the railing and the other the wall.

“(Y/N),” the male before you called out and took a tentative step in your direction. The movement sent your fear into overdrive. Adrenaline rushed through you as you picked up the pace, not daring to take your eyes of the threat in front of you.

“(Y/N) wait,” Azriel called again. His mouth continued to move, but you couldn’t hear him. Your vision blurred and the edges darkened. The center of your chest burned and you couldn’t catch your breath. You dropped your weight into your heel, but it was met with air. The loss of balance causing you to tumble the rest of the way down the staircase. Pain tore at your ankle and raced up to your thigh. You hit the floor of the foyer hard, head cracking against the stone tiles. You felt hands on your arms, but you thrashed against them. You kicked and swung your arms, trying to create any distance you could between yourself and the male that tortured you. Your foot connected with something and you cried out from the searing pain that the impact caused. He was not going to take you back there. You were not going to be taken anywhere without a fight. You felt yourself screaming and you continued to fight off the hands that touched you.

“Hey hey hey,” A gentle deep voice finally reached your ears, “Sweetheart it’s me. It’s okay. It’s just me.” You used your feet to push against the ground, but you couldn’t get anywhere with the pain in your ankle.

“(Y/N), open your eyes,” the voice instructed, “Your ankle’s broken, baby. Stop. Stop kicking. I’ve got you.” You hadn’t even realized that your eyes had been closed. Everything had been a dark blur when you fell backwards. But you complied. You had expected it to be bright when you cracked your eyes open, but instead all you saw was blue. Ruhn sat on the ground next to you, his warm hand pressed against your cheek. You caught a glimpse of Nesta’s golden brown hair as she knelt on your other side. Your eyes met Ruhn’s again and you felt yourself break. Covering your face with both hands you sobbed. The fear, the pain, and the embarrassment that you were yet again crying was too much.

“A healer is on her way,” Nesta’s voice was as equally soft as Ruhn’s, “Let’s get her upstairs.” You winced as your two friends helped you to stand. Each of your arms was placed around one of their shoulders, Ruhn having to bend down slightly given the 4 to 5-inch height difference between you. His arm wrapped around your waist allowing him to take the brunt of your weight.

The trek upstairs wasn’t as painful as you anticipated. The two Fae helped you onto your bed, where you waited for the healer. Luckily you didn’t have to wait very long. The slightly older looking female worked quickly and efficiently in setting your ankle back in place before mending it with magic. Still it was wrapped up tightly to keep it in the ideal position while the bones slowly fused together.

Once she left you asked for some time by yourself claiming that you wanted to sleep. Which wasn’t a complete lie, you were exhausted. You carefully pulled the covers down and tucked your legs under them. The bed was already warm and despite the amount of information that you had taken in just minutes before, your mind drifted off to sleep.

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Part 6

Tag list: @jenniferpendragon @impossibelle @sweet-chai-amore @myheartfollower @iimichie @fightmedraco @nikkitch0703 @eerievixen @ang-taylorsversion @randomness-it-is @thehighlordishere @rachelnicolee @hardcoremarvelfan

[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere- Part 4

Lucien x Plus Size! Reader, Azriel x Plus Size! Reader

Summary: Feyre arrives at the Moonstone Palace. Reader meets those from Midgard. (I suck at summaries).

Author's Note: It's another short chapter, sorry. I read HOFAS and moved into a new apartment at the same time so I was a bit busy the past two weeks. There will be some minor spoilers from HOFAS in this and later chapters, but a large majority of it will diverge from canon. This is primarily an ACOTAR fic with a minor part of the main storyline requiring the characters from Crescent City.

Warnings: Mentions of minor violence.

Part 3

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You woke up to the feeling of sunlight on your face. The windows high along the tops of the walls of your bedroom allowed the light to pour in, cascading down the sheer fabric that draped alongside the bedposts. A breeze from the open-air bathing chamber flitted in and ruffled your matted hair. Last night’s dream had been intense and different from the images that haunted you most nights. Instead of simply reliving your week of intense interrogation by Azriel, last night you bore witness to…

‘Damn it, why can’t I remember now.’ Flashes of images leaked from your memory, only the essence of fear and longing remained. You brought your hand up to rub at your temples, a headache beginning to take root. When your hand placed itself back on your hip it didn’t find it. No, it found itself on top of another hand that was larger than yours. As your brain focused through the fog of the sleep tonic you realized something was pressed against your frame. Not something, someone. That wasn’t an outside breeze that brushed past you, but the warm breath of another person. You craned your neck around, careful not to jostle the body curling around yours. Your eyes caught sight of the shining red strands and you relaxed just a bit to see that it was Lucien in the bed with you. You relaxed even further when you noticed he lay on top of the covers while you were underneath. You weren’t sure how you would have reacted had there been less of a barrier between you two. Reflexively his hold moved from your hips, his arm wrapping around your waist and tightened, pulling you closer. You were surprised that his arm fit around you; his fingers curling in when they couldn’t find space on your opposite side with your body pressed against the mattress. Still you shifted slightly so that the flab of your stomach didn’t spread too far out in front of you. Or at least that was what you hoped.

It had been a long time since another person slept next to you. You had been too embarrassed and ashamed of your body to really let anyone else see or touch you. Logically you knew that you had a healthy body overall, but that didn’t stop the comparisons your mind made when you looked at celebrities or your friends. You always were the largest in your friend group, and sometimes-most times- the knowledge of that drained your self-esteem. You exercised and ate…well your eating habits could probably do with some improvement if you were honest. Your job kept you running around town for various meetings with clients or on phone call conferences all day, and your nights were spent pouring over books and online articles for your dissertation research. Quick and fast meals had become your go to over the past year prior to your arrival in Prythian. And more pounds than you would care to admit accompanied.  

A soft sleep filled hum from the male next to you brought your lingering thoughts to a standstill. You didn’t remember much from the night before, only being awake long enough for the bath. The sleeping tonic had worked incredibly fast. You had drunk the ounce as if it was a damn shot of alcohol, not bothering to dilute it with water as Lucien instructed. You felt bad that Lucien had to watch over you due to your nightmares, and you couldn’t help but wonder when he decided that lying next to you was the solution.

‘Then again, he could just be tired of sleeping on the couch.’ But, you couldn’t deny that you felt more at peace being held by him. His breath tickled your skin, his inhales evenly measured in a steady beat. You lay beside him for a few minutes longer, not really wanting to leave the comfort of the bed. Sadly, your body couldn’t allow itself to remain still for too long once it was awake. You found yourself having to stop the subconscious wiggling of your toes before the energy expanded to your entire foot. The jostling surely would wake the male and you wanted to allow him to sleep as much as possible. So, you decided you would just get ready for the day.

The sun was surprisingly high in the sky, marking the first day that you had slept in since your arrival to this new reality. You maneuvered yourself out of Lucien’s hold, careful not to wake him, before softly walking over to the bathroom. You glanced at yourself in the mirror and were horrified at the image that reflected back. Craning your face close to the mirror-your glasses left on the night stand next to the bed-your appearance came into better focus. You looked at your red rimmed eyes as they sat sunken in above dark blue half circles. Sleep crusted in their corners before giving way to the dried-up streams of your tears. Your disheveled hair still clung to your face, the shorter parts sticking up at odd angles. Your eyes roamed over the long scratch marks that littered your neck and clavicle, even going as far down as your cleavage. The darkness of the thin pajama top brightening each of the red lines. Dread pooled into your stomach. What happened in your dream to merit such an attack on yourself? Which was something that you had never done before. Your fingers reached up to trace alongside what effectively looked like claw marks, and you winced at the tenderness of the skin.

A whip made of flames striking at your chest flashed before your eyes and you jumped back from the mirror. A shocking pain speared through your back at the sudden movement and you crumpled towards the floor. Another flash and barbed wire pressed against your throat. A blinding white hand reached towards your face, followed by piercing blue-violet eyes filled with a mix of emotion only described as loathing, sadness, and pain. Breathing ragged, your hand grasped the edge of the stone sink. Slowly rising back to your feet, you braced your body against the cool marble, allowing it to ground you in the present. You instantly knew the images were from your dream. Each image so vivid that they bordered on feeling more like memories, for they held no trace of the usual misty appearance that was typical of your dreams. You glanced at your throat again, making sure that the wire was gone. You noted a few crescent shaped marks along the outer sides of your throat, likely from your own finger nails digging in to your skin attempting to pry the imaginary wire away. With shaking hands, you turned on the cold water and splashed your face several times. You heard movement from the bedroom and turned to see Lucien standing at the archway.

“Morning,” You mumbled. Your hand rubbed along your chest at the base of your neck while the other wrapped around your torso. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t wake me. Are you alright?” He took a few steps towards you, his golden eye whirring as it looked you over. You felt a pang in your chest as his arms pulled you into an embrace. It was only when he held you tighter did you realize you had been violently shaking. Your throat tightened as tears brimmed your eyes and you wrapped your own arms around him. You were getting tired of this. Tired of constantly crying and feeling weak…a broken thing. What would it take for the nightmares to end?

“No,” You admitted, releasing your hold on the male. “There was something…different about the dreams last night. They…they felt too real.” Your hand brushed against your neck again as you moved passed him on your way back to the bedroom. You pulled out a navy V-neck sweater and black form fitting pants. You heard the tap of the sink in the bathroom turn on and quickly got dressed while Lucien kept himself occupied in the bathroom. It wasn’t long before the two of you headed out in search of food before settling back into your normal routine.

You and Lucien made your way to the patio, hopeful that you hadn’t missed the opportunity to eat before you dove back into your daily research. When you arrived though, an envelope placed underneath a rock was in the center of the table. Lucien picked it up and read over the contents.

“We’re wanted in the main dining hall,” He folded the letter and stuffed it in his pocket.

“Where’s that?” You wrapped your arms across your middle, a slight chill filled the air.

“Follow me,” He stated simply.

“What about the wards?” Your head swiveled as he brushed past you.

“Apparently they have been taken down. You’re free to move about the Moonstone Palace,” You tried to avoid the slight stumbling of your feet as you followed Lucien. He navigated the hallways as if he had been born inside them. There was no falter in his step as you both approached a set of intricately carved stone doors. The near opalescent shine caught the midday rays of golden sun light, causing flashes of blue, green, and peach to scatter across the surface as the doors opened on silent hinges.

Beyond the doors the room opened into a vast dining hall made up of the same stone. A long and intricately carved pinewood table sat at the center with several people already sat around it. Two chairs had been left vacant on the side closest to the doors you walked through. Your eyes swept over the faces of those gathered, only one of which you recognized as Nesta. She sat just to the right of another young female with the same piercing blue-grey eyes and coppery brown hair that sat at the head of the table. You paused as the female held an infant in her arms. Even from this distance you could make out the vibrancy of his violet eyes and the wings on his back. Down along the side of the table, spaced a seat away from Nesta was another female with deep crimson hair. She held a striking resemblance to Lucien, if not a tad shade paler than the male beside you. Two males sat next to her, the one closest to her with dark hair and eyes, a tattooed crown of black thorns peaked out from above his brow. The vivid bright blue irises of the male on the end met yours and you gasped. Your knees threatened to buckle from underneath you, the memory of your dream hitting you full force.

Running. Running through darkened hallways. Breaths ragged as your lungs strained to inflate. Three males, one with wings carried a third. The red of Cassian’s siphons glinting in the sun. The wind whipped through your hair as a metal gate crashed down. The sound of a machine gun firing coming to an abrupt halt. Running. Your joints ached and muscles burned with effort. The ground beneath your feet crumbled as you barreled towards a cliff’s edge. Shouts and chaos erupted around you. Gunfire. Running. Running. The cliff was so close. Pressure ripped through your back, the feeling of blood trickled down your chest. Falling. Followed by slamming into the earth. The cliff edge just a hairs breath away. Darkness. In the distance you heard the shouting of male. A blindingly bright hand reached towards you. True pain unlike any other ripped through you. Your throat burned from the scream it unleashed. Another shout. Darkness.

“(Y/N)!” Lucien stood in front of you, his mismatched eyes wide and face pale. His grip on your biceps was tight enough to bruise. You blinked rapidly, the dining hall coming back into focus. The female from the head of the table now stood to Lucien’s left. Her worried gaze studied your face.

“My dream,” Your voice sounded so far away in your ears. “They’re from my dream.” You stepped around the male to peer at the ones at the table. The male on the end was standing, staring at you with his own wide eyes. His hair was buzzed along one side; the other side a curtain of long black hair swaying in the breeze that came from the open archways along the far side of the room.

“What?” Lucien followed your gaze.

“No, it’s nothing, never mind,” You shook your head, the images fading back into the recesses of your mind. There was no way…You decided that while you may not have magic, it was best to keep the contents of this particular dream to yourself.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked, worry laced in his tone as he brushed a strand of your hair back. The caring gesture making you self-conscious in front of your audience. While you were certain that his actions were strictly platonic, you didn’t want his mate’s sisters to get the wrong idea and cast you in a not so favorable light.

“I’m fine Lucien,” You ducked around his arm, breezing past him and who you assumed was Feyre. Nesta continued to sit in her chair, the infant almost toddler now in her arms. His legs stretched out in a standing position on her lap. The sight immediately conjured up old memories of your own nephew when he had been that age. As you approached the chair opposite Nesta, her eyes slightly widened.

“What the hell happened to you?” The child in her arms twisted his head, following and tracking your every movement. You held up your hands, curling your fingers as if they had become claws.

“Apparently I turn into a cat and thought my own neck was a scratching post,” You flexed your fingers for emphasis. You felt Lucien’s irritated gaze bore a hole on the side of your head, but you continued to ignore him.

“Don’t fret though, I’ve since declawed myself,” It was Nesta’s turn to show displeasure, however the child in her lap giggled. “Good to know at least someone thinks I’m funny.” You glance to your right and notice that the male at the end of the table is still standing, staring directly at you. The expression on his face was unreadable, and he had an uncanny resemblance to Rhysand.

“Her nightmare was particularly bad last night,” Lucien supplied the eldest sister with the information. You scoffed and sat down in your chair across from her. As if your nightmare was something to easily explain everything. You also found yourself not appreciating him telling your personal issues to anyone apart from him and yourself.

“You did that to yourself?” The blue-eyed male spoke up. Your gaze fell to him, his stern expression made you shift in your seat. In fact, the expressions of everyone else in the room made you uneasy. You had no control over what images your mind conjured in the middle of the night. So why did you feel that it was your fault and you did something wrong. The male’s companions both whipped their heads towards him, surprise on their faces. The red-haired female looked back to you.

“So, you can talk, and that’s the first thing you decide to say?” Her question was met with silence as the male sat back down in his own spot. “And back to silence.”

“Bryce…” The other male seated next to her sighed. Something in you sparked.

“Oh, so you’re Bryce,” You tilted your head as you examined her. The two males stiffed at your tone, but you didn’t care. Yes, they both looked like they would kill you if you said the wrong thing, but your mood was starting to become too sour for you to really care.

“(Y/N),” Lucien’s warning tone was foreign to your ears. You felt like a child being scolded and it only fanned the flames of your embarrassment at feeling so weak and…human. It had suddenly dawned on you that you were the only human in the room. Of course, they would look down on you and find your attitude to be at fault. The overly emotional human. Though the small voice in the back of your mind was also telling you to calm the fuck down before someone did decide to actually end your life.

“What Lucien?” You snapped. “I was nearly murdered and then tortured for a week because I didn’t know who she was. So, forgive me if I’m a bit salty.” You didn’t acknowledge the confused looks you got for your use of slang.

“What do you mean by nearly murdered?” Feyre asked. You turned to face her, the fire of your irritation in you not balking at her steely gaze.

“When your husband found me the first thing he asked was if I knew a Ms. Bryce Quinlan. I told him that I didn’t know any Bryce…I then found myself locked inside my own body. I couldn’t move, could barely even breath. I felt claws gripping my skull, felt them tear at the flesh on my temples. Which doesn’t make sense because his hands were in his pockets…then he brought to a cell in the Hewn City where Az-” Your throat closed up around his name. You felt the irritation in you sputter and die out. You had to press your lips in a thin line to prevent the lower one from trembling. Feyre’s expression softened by a fraction. You turned your head away, not wanting to see the pitying look she gave you. You didn’t want to be pitied for being so weak.

“I’d like to apologize on behalf of my mate and his brother,” She said, “I know that they both feel bad for how things with you were handled. Azriel is especially distraught-.” You scoffed again and looked up at the ceiling. Golden chandeliers slightly swung in the breeze. Your anger wouldn’t let you believe that Azriel felt bad.

“Its true,” Nesta added. You looked at the female, the child in her lap smiled brightly having no clue to the growing tension in the room. To your ever growing embarrassment and shame you had in what happened to you.

“He wants to make up for what happened (Y/N),” Lucien’s hand was warm against your thigh, his thumb rubbing gently against it. No doubt an attempt to comfort you. “He brought you the sleeping tonic last night and-” You went still and you could feel the color drain from your face. You remembered hearing Lucien speak to someone as you bathed last night, but you had no clue it was Azriel.

“He…he was…in t-the room last night,” Your breath came out as a mere whisper. You felt your limbs start to tremble, but you couldn’t tell if that was from fear or rage. Lucien had allowed the male that tortured you to enter the only space that you felt somewhat safe inside. Now it was tainted. You felt anger simmer under your skin. Lucien had allowed Azriel to see you in such a vulnerable state, half naked and crying from the absolute terror that flooded your veins due to the nightmare. However, you knew this wasn’t the time to have this conversation with Lucien, given the three complete strangers sitting at the table. Your ire would have to wait as you didn’t want to air your dirty laundry out in front of them. The male beside you seemed to read your thoughts when he spoke in a low voice.

“We’ll discuss this later,” He lifted his hand from your thigh and you immediately felt the cold air. A cold sting hit your chest. You fixed your eyes on the table in front of you and bit your tongue. You knew that things had gotten way off track, your emotions getting the best of you. You lifted your head and looked to the new faces around you.

“I have to apologize,” You sighed, “I don’t really sleep well and my moods can be a bit fickle as a result. Let’s start over. I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” You held out your hand Bryce over the expanse of the table. Bryce glanced at your hand, an eyebrow raised.

“You shake it,” Nesta whispered to the female, “Or at least that what she says they do in her world.” Bryce smiled.

“I know what a hand shake is Nesta,” Bryce held your gaze and shook your hand. You let out an involuntary sigh of relief.

“You’re not from here?” The male next to Bryce eyed you curiously.

“No, I’m not,” You held out your hand to him in greeting, “We call the planet I’m from Earth. I don’t think we have specific name for our solar system, but it’s within the Milky Way galaxy. Again, our term. I realize that other places could call it something else…if they are even aware of its existence. And… I’m rambling again…”

“I’m Hunt,” He smiled as he shook your hand in return. “We come from a planet we call Midgard.”

“It’s nice to meet you Hunt,” You rose from your seat, and walked around to Lucien’s opposite side to extend your hand to the last male. “And you…” His blue eyes bore into your (e/c) ones. He glanced at your hand, as if touching it would somehow burn him. You withdrew your hand and straighten to stand. You tried to not let the hurt that his demeanor caused show on your face. But it didn’t stop you from studying him a bit longer than you likely should have. Still you forced a smile to your lips.

“That rude asshole is my brother, Ruhn,” Bryce informed. You dipped your chin to Ruhn in acknowledgment. He remained silent; however, his eyes never left you as you returned and sat in your seat across from Nesta. As soon as you sat back down, Lucien’s hand was back on your thigh. Had you not known any better, you would have mistaken it as a territorial gesture. But Lucien had a mate. He was likely just wanting to reassure you that he wasn’t as mad as he may have sounded a few moments ago. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes to gage his features all the same. He was staring daggers at Ruhn, who was still staring at you. Ruhn only looked away when your eyes met his. Lucien’s hand remained on you and his thumb resumed its unconscious stroking. You noted the action and would have to ask him about it later. You then settled you gaze upon Feyre at the head of the table.

“Well, now that introductions are out of the way,” She leaned forward on her elbows, “We should discuss your potential move to Velaris.”

Part 5

Tag List: @jenniferpendragon @impossibelle @sweet-chai-amore @myheartfollower @iimichie @fightmedraco @nikkitch0703 @eerievixen @ang-taylorsversion @randomness-it-is @thehighlordishere @rachelnicolee

[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere-Part 6

Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader, Ruhn Danaan x Plus Size Reader

Part 6 Summary: Nearly half a year has gone by and Reader is no closer to finding a way home. Reader has set her sights on finally going outside of the Night Court to find answer on how to return home. However, Rhysand is a prick.

Author's note: Screw it, I'm adding a ship to this damn thing. The more I write, the more I realize that Ruhn and Reader have a thing I can't ignore (#writerproblems). Just know in advanced that they will NOT be endgame. I was debating on not splitting this part up, but I figured that this already had a lot going on so it was probably best. Its still at 5.6K words. That and I really didn't want to delay posting an update any longer. This does have some time skips, but nothing too crazy.

Warnings: Slight spoilers for CC3 (HOFAS).

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

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Lucien entered the town house and immediately headed for the stairs that lead to the upper floor. He had winnowed clear across Prythian from the Spring Court upon receiving Rhysand’s note informing him that (Y/N) had an accident. Mother spare him, but despite their argument he still worried over the woman’s safety while he was away. He wanted to stay mad, he truly did however…He didn’t trust the males in this court enough to give her the space she would need to feel safe. He had debated on asking Feyre to allow (Y/N) to accompany him to the mortal lands. There she would at least have been safe with Jurian and Vassa. More so, she would have been safe with him. She likely would have been more comfortable with her own kind too. Then again, Jurian and Vassa weren’t exactly typical humans. He also didn’t know the individuals from Midgard well enough to trust them. The one male that held an unsettling resemblance to Rhysand, the way he had looked at her was like he’d seen a ghost. Lucien didn’t quite know what to make of that. No, his ability to trust anyone with caring for her was thin and needed to be earned. The fact that something happened and she’s been injured while he was away was proof enough. Trust was a precious commodity in his life.

When Bryce had first arrived, Lucien had been kept in the dark. He only became aware of everything after Rhysand had asked him for assistance in creating and securing the portal that they established near the River House. The idea was to have a secure location to monitor anyone else coming and going. Especially after they had all agreed to assist in the rescue of her mate and brother. It had honestly surprised the male that the High Lord had trusted him enough with this task. But after seeing Bryce for himself, her crimson hair almost a near match for his own. Well, he could certainly hazard a guess as to why his blood may be useful. Especially, if that message from one of the High Queen’s daughters was accurate. It was likely that inhabitants of the areas that had become the Autumn Court traveled to the new world as well all those millennia ago. As an emissary of the Night Court it wouldn’t surprise Lucien if Rhysand ultimately asked he go on a diplomatic mission to Midgard at some point.

Lucien took the stairs two steps at a time. The woman’s soft vanilla scent filled his senses as he approached the room she occupied. The one that had been his when he first arrived to the Night Court. The fire in his veins calmed as her scent washed over him. He hadn’t even realized that the magic was poised to be unleashed, tensed from his worry. He didn’t bother to knock on the door before he opened it. The human woman sat on the bed, her back against the dark walnut headboard, a leg propped up on a pillow. He barely registered the dangerously short emerald green silk nightdress she wore. His eyes immediately traveled down the bare expanse of her exposed leg to the white linin wrappings around her ankle. Relief fully washed over him. He didn’t know why he had expected something worse, but he was glad that it wasn’t. His golden eye whirred as it focused on her ankle and he took a few steps into the room. He sat on the end of the bed, his hands gingerly lifted her leg and placed it on his lap so he could examine it for himself. The wrapping was tight and kept her foot in as much of a neutral position as it possible to allow the healing magic to run its course. Once satisfied that it had been treated properly, his gaze turned towards hers. Surprise filled her expression. It suddenly dawned on him that he had rushed into her room without so much as a word. On top of that he had immediately started to inspect her condition as if she were…he stopped that line of thinking immediately. ‘She is my friend. I am allowed to be worried about my friends.’  Lucien stared as her expression went from surprise to confusion to relief.

“You came back,” Her low and warm voice was soft as the almost question passed her lips. Suddenly she tossed the book that had been in her lap to the side. She swung her legs underneath her plump frame before she launched herself towards Lucien. “You came back.” He barely had time to brace himself when she slammed against him, her arms wrapping around his torso. His own arms followed suit, holding her close. He had missed her warmth.  

“Of course, I came back. I didn’t plan to stay away long.” He chuckled.

“I’m so sorry Lu,” She whispered against his neck, her breath caused the skin on the back of his neck to pleasantly rise. “I-I should have let you explain yourself.”

“It’s alright sweet girl,” He rubbed his palm along her back. “You had every right to be upset. I apologize as well. I should have talked to you about what to share with the others before doing so.”

“Still, I didn’t need to say those things,” She pulled back slightly to look at him. “I know that you were trying to help. I know that you care. You have no obligation to me, but you are an amazing friend. I’m really sorry for the way that I treated you when I was upset.”

“I appreciate that,” His throat tightened ever so slightly. He continued to hold her, the two of them sharing a comfortable silence.

“Do you have to go back soon?” She asked.

“No,” He smiled down at her, (e/c) orbs alight with that fire he was growing too accustomed to. “I’m yours until you’re healed.”

“Oh? Aren’t I special then,” Her returning grin caused the flames to dance. He couldn’t help but laugh. She pulled away and carefully maneuvered herself back towards the headboard of the bed. She reached for the book and patted against the space next to her.

“Want me to read aloud?” She shook the book in her hand. Lucien stood and removed his shoes before crawling up the bed to join her.  

“Is this one of Nesta’s?” He asked, wrapping an arm over her shoulders and plucking the novel from her hands.

“Yes, but it’s one of the…tamer romances.”

“No smut?” He laughed.

“I wouldn’t have offered to read aloud if there was,” She settled into his side, her injured leg back on its pillow. He opened the book and she directed him to the page where she left off. After she quickly summarized the preceding events in the book, Lucien began to read.

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Your fingers traced along the endless row of leather encased book spines. Every now and then the smooth texture was interrupted by the cold bite of metal hinges or raised and pressed lettering. The gold and bronze titles, those that were still visible anyway, blurred as your eyes scanned over them. Pausing your search, you tilted your head back into an upright position and rubbed your eyes trying to bring them back into focus. In the opposite row, Nesta was re-shelving one of the many tombs that Gwyn had picked out. The Priestess currently sat at a table between the rows, scanning over another book. Elegantly long fingers gloved in white gently turned the oversized pages. Every afternoon for the past six months the pair had assisted you with searching the large library underneath the House of Wind for any information that could result in your ticket back home.

It was difficult to believe that you had been in the Night Court for so long already, damn near 8 months. Each morning you opened your eyes you were greeted with the sight of the pale walls of your room in the town house. The familiar sight of pictures of friends and family that covered your bedroom back home where nowhere to been seen. Their absence reminding you of the life you would lose if you failed to return. The scrapes of your hope for returning home were slowly slipping away. Yet you remained determined to find some way back. If not for yourself, then for those that loved and relied on you.

With the hundreds of thousands of books within the library there had to be at least one that could shed some light onto your situation. There had to be some documentation, anything at all, regarding the Fae that had gone missing from the continent all those millennia ago. You had come to the conclusion that this group must have traveled to your world. Or at least traveled somewhere that could then lead you to your world. There was no other reasonable explanation for how you could have found yourself in this one. Especially if Ruhn’s suggestion of your distant relation to them was true. If you had to be honest, you weren’t sure you would ever believe that, not without some type of blood test anyway. A groan from Gwyn brought you out of your rumination.

“That’s it!” She declared while slamming the ancient text shut. “We’ve looked at nearly every book in this damned place and found nothing.” You stared at the stack of books laid out next to the female.

“If we had a better idea of what we were even looking for…” Nesta’s voice trailed off. Sun lit dust particles danced around her finger tips as they strummed against the table. You sucked in a breath.

“At this rate anything regarding the history of Prythian could be useful,” You couldn’t afford to lose hope. “ So, what options do we have?” Nesta returned to the table and exchanged a look with her friend.

“There are other libraries,” Gwyn stated simply. “But…the High Lord will need to make the request for an emissary to visit.” Nesta scoffed.

“Which he won’t do without some serious convincing,” She crossed her arms and looked up at the ceiling.

“Then I’ll convince him,” You had to remain hopeful, “He’ll have to agree that looking outside the Night Court is necessary if we’ve exhausted the resources here. Where are these libraries?”

“Each of the Courts have their own set of libraries,” Gwyn offered. “If you are to start looking into the general history of Prythian then the Day Court would be the best starting point. There are near 1000 in that Court alone, and…” She trailed off at the look Nesta gave the two of you.

“No.” Her voice was stern.

“What do you mean, ‘No’?” You challenged. “Rhysand has to understand-”

“It’s not just him. It’s highly unlikely that the other High Lords would allow free reign of their resources to anyone from the Night Court,” She explained, “Not without giving them a reason as to why it would be of benefit to them. Rhys still believes that knowledge of your and Bryce’s existence does not benefit anyone and would only place the Night Court at risk.” You rolled your eyes.

“Of course, how could I forget?” It was no secret that Rhysand still didn’t trust you. It didn’t matter that everyone else in his precious inner circle could see that you were of no threat. You and Feyre surly thought that he would have come around when Amren surprisingly gave her seal of approval. It took two months before the petite female had even been willing to give you the time of day. Once she realized that you truly were stuck here she insisted on her own set of tests for magical abilities or reactions. When you couldn’t produce any of the results she suspected you should have been capable of, if you were indeed a spy or other type of threat, she finally backed off. Mor had liked you almost instantly after watching your interactions with Nyx.

“I admit that I can see how the knowledge of me being from another world is the equivalent of opening Pandora’s box,” You laughed. “But the other courts don’t have to know that little tidbit, right? We can just come up with some other reasoning. You know, some bullshit about building relations with mortals. I’m certain that Rhys and Lucien could spin something like that.”   

“There’s really only one way to find out,” Gwyn mused. Nesta let out a long breath.

***

“Absolutely not,” Rhysand didn’t even bother to look up at either you or Nesta.

“Why not?” You asked incredulously. “We’ve exhausted the resources available in the Night Court. You won’t let me go to the Prison or the tunnels with Bryce to see what I might be able to decipher from the images. So, if you’re going to continue to insist that I find a way home, I need access to more information. Information that is now beyond your borders.”

“Then consider yourself relieved of the task,” His eyes still didn’t look up from the parchment he was scribbling on.

“What?”

“You’re done with research,” He finally looked up, eyes cold. “You can go now.” Rhysand gestured towards the office door and resumed his scribbling. You blinked several times trying to process what just happened. To say you were baffled by his decision to just have you give up was an understatement. It made no sense. He had insisted for months that you do everything in your power to find a way home. He made you dedicate hours every afternoon while Nyx slept to the task. He didn’t want you here. He didn’t trust you. Was it really so hard for him to let go of that fucking need to control you that he’d rather you remain stranded on this planet than let you leave the court to find a way home? Clearly it was.

“No.” You felt Nesta tense at your side. The male sitting before you glanced up through thick lashes. An eyebrow raised as he paused his work yet again. You didn’t care that he could easily over power you. Easily kill you with a mere thought. You weren’t about to continue being this weak and timid thing. He may be used to the other females in his life buckling under the weight of that stare, but it would be a cold day in Hell before you gave him that satisfaction. You wanted to go home just as much as he wanted you gone.

“I don’t see a reason as to why I can’t continue searching for a way home,” You took a steadying breath. “The High Lord of the Day Court doesn’t need to know who I really am or where I’m from. He doesn’t need to know the true purpose of what I am looking for. Honestly at this point I might get more insight into travel between worlds by looking into the history of this one.” The High Lord remained silent, so you took that as a cue to continue pleading your case.

“That’s the story we tell him. I’m merely looking into the history of the various courts to compile a comprehensive history of Prythian. If that hasn’t already been done that is. I can dress up like a Priestess, or Lucien can glamor me so I don’t look human. And I know that he will go with me if I ask.”

“Helion would be able to see through any ruse, which is exactly why I will not grant you permission to leave,” The calmness with which this discussion had started was quickly fading. His arrogance and lack of confidence in you made your blood boil.

“You cannot keep me locked away in this city!” You squared your shoulders.

“Yes, I can!” Rhysand bellowed. “I will remind you that your ability to remain in Velaris is due to the love that my son has for you.”

“Believe me, I am perfectly aware of the fact that my freedom is an illusion,” You seethed. “And it isn’t right. What kind of example are you setting for your son? He will pick up on the way that you treat me, as well as the other females in his life, and that will be his template for how he will treat them in turn. Tell me, do you want him to grow and be known as male that has genuine respect for females? To be known for treating them well beyond just common decency? Do you want him to build this court up as a safe place for women to live the lives they choose? To carry on a legacy of Velaris being a city that all can aspire to? Or do you want him to continue this farce of what you spout as being a progressive court but continue to belittle, undermine, and covertly fuel misogyny?” You felt a power ripple through the air. The edges of the High Lord’s figure darkened. You definitely hit a nerve and had to fight back the triumphant smirk.

“You despise me, so why are you so fucking hell bent on keeping me here? Wouldn’t you and everyone else be happier if I was gone?” The power that had been growing sputtered. The silence that replaced it filled the office, setting your already frayed nerves on edge. Nesta placed her hand in yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“I do not despise you (Y/N),” Rhysand let out a heavy sigh. “And given the fact you believed that to be true, I must apologize. Genuinely apologize.” You stood in front of the High Lord, not quite sure if what he had to say next would truly be as genuine as was merited. The male stood from his chair, walking around his desk to stand in front of you.

“While it is really no excuse, I have let my fear of the unknown dictate my interactions with you,” He explained. You bit back the sarcastic remark that threated that danced on your tongue. His unequal treatment towards you was obvious to anyone present when you and Rhysand occupied the same room.  

“However, you-”

“Ah! Do not turn this around and make your actions and reactions my responsibility,” You warned. The male simply smirked and nodded.

“The mistrust goes both ways, and yours is highly understandable given how I treated you upon your arrival,” He leaned against the desk, “Give me time and let me make it up to you. I will make more of an effort to get to know who you are. From there we can discuss if, or when and how, to move forward with you leaving the borders of the Night Court.” You held his gaze, weighing his words. You didn’t miss the fact that there was no promise that he would ever actually allow you to leave. Nor did he give any indication of timeframe for when this future discussion would take place. But for now, this concession would have to suffice.

“So, with the research on a temporary hold,” You needed some direction, “What else will you have me do exactly? Feyre has a solid early morning routine with Nyx and-”

“You will start early morning training with the Valkyries,” The High Lord smiled as your eyes went wide, “Feyre will be taking on more responsibilities as High Lady. Primarily she will become responsible for ensure that Velaris operates smoothly so that I can focus on finally enacting the overdue changes in Illyria and the Hewn City. After all, this is a progressive court. With both of us busy, you will need to learn how to not only defend yourself as a human in the Fae lands, but also how to protect my son. Afterall, you will be with him more often than anyone else.” You groaned internally. You were not a morning nor an exercise person, and combining the two…gross. You turned towards Nesta, who appeared to be just as surprised as you with the High Lord’s declaration. However, she quickly schooled her features into an unreadable expression. Rhysand then retreated to his chair, a clear dismissal and one that you were more willing to accept. You had just made it to the doorframe when he called out.

“Oh, in the spirit of building trust, Azriel will be the one to fly you to and from the House of Wind for your training.” You stumbled at his second declaration and glanced over your shoulder, however, you stayed silent. While there had been tension from the mutual distrust between yourself and Rhys, you struggled significantly whenever the Shadowsinger was present. Therefore, it made sense to give this task to Azriel.

“You don’t have to talk to him, but being near him is a necessary step in your healing,” He continued. “Even you have to admit that.” You hated that he wasn’t wrong.  

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You trudged down the steps from the top floor of the town house as you did each morning for the past four months. Each morning was just as much of a struggle as the day before. You really were not a morning person. Just like every morning, Lucien had left the simple breakfast he prepared for you both in the oven to keep warm. He was an early riser, which worked in his favor as it meant that he could avoid the male that was the bane of your existence. Although, you had to admit that that line of thinking was a bit harsh regarding Azriel. Your interactions with the hazel eyed male had been slowly, albeit excruciatingly, improving. You didn’t share more words than was absolutely necessary, but you also didn’t leave the room or run away whenever he entered.

You took the scrambled eggs out of the oven, not even bothering to get a clean plate or even move to the table. Instead you just slowly shoveled them into your mouth as you leaned against the counter top. An unpleasant shiver ran up your leg. You didn’t have to look to confirm that the sensation was brought on by one of Azriel’s shadows. A silent “hurry up”. With tensed muscles you finished your eggs and placed the skillet in the wash basin. Plucking an apple from the bowl on the center island, you headed for the front door.

“You’re late,” Azriel stated, yet there was no real irritation to his voice. You tossed the apple into the air trying to shake away the unease that his shadows still elicited whenever they touched you. The sun was just peaking up over the eastern horizon, the early rays of dawn told you that you were right on time.

“Yet it’s the same time as every other morning amigo,” You took a bite of the apple, juice dribbling on to your chin. Rotating the apple in your palm you offered the opposite side for the male to take a bite. You had been prepared for his usual refusal; however, your regular morning routine was about to take an unexpected turn. You watched in slow motion as Azriel’s scarred hand gently covered yours before he brought the apple closer to his lips. You held your breath as his eyes bore into yours, his teeth sinking into the bright red flesh of the fruit. After taking a sizable chunk he released your hand and the world sped back up. It took an additional 30 seconds for your brain to catch up.

“Az!” You tried to fight the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Did you have to make it that creepy?” The male merely shrugged in response and took a step closer before wrapping his arms around you. You stepped into the embrace, bringing your own arms around the top of his shoulders. You were always mindful of his wings, making sure as to not brush against them while still maintaining a secure grip. Not that his hold on you ever faltered. Honestly, it was a miracle-in your opinion-that he was able to fly while carrying you at all. He had assured you early on that your weight was a non-issue, but that didn’t prevent the thoughts from springing to your mind every time you had to do this.

“Come on Koala, you know the drill,” He smiled as he tapped your thigh. You rolled your eyes. Jumping as instructed you allowed him to wrap your legs around his waist, just as you had that very first day of flying. You hadn’t meant to cling to him so fiercely at that time, yet it was the only position in which you felt secure. With his arms supporting your lower back, he shot up into the sky.

Barely even 10 minutes later and you were set down in the training ring at the House of Wind.

“I’ll be back in couple hours,” and with that your personal jetpack flew back towards the expanse of mountains along the northern edge of the city. You took another bite of the apple that you thankfully managed to hold on to before it was plucked from your hands. You spun around to face the asshole of a General that had taken it from you.

“You’re late,” He smirked.

“Like Hell I am,” You glanced around the training area. So far it was just you and Cassian. Not even Lucien was present. You scowled to yourself as he claimed he would be. However, you didn’t have time to wonder where he was when a set of arms wrapped around your shoulders, pining your arms to your sides. Your newly ingrained instincts kicked in. Planting your feet as best you could you reared your head back, hoping to make contact with the face behind you. Whoever it was ducked and grabbed the high pony tail that held your hair out of your eyes. The grip was tight and you immediately regretted your actions.

“Fuck!” You hissed, reaching up to try and pry the fingers away. You found the assailants wrist and dug your nails along the tendon, effectively forcing them to loosen their grip. Ruhn howled.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” You punched his chest as he danced away from you. “Are we five-year-old’s on a playground again? When did you get back from Midgard?” The asshole just laughed.

“A few hours ago, Bryce and Hunt are still sleeping. And I would say I’m sorry, but I was instructed to not be gentle with you today,” His smile was near feral. You ignored him and grumbled to yourself as you pulled the elastic hair band out. Bending over you let your now long hair cascade towards the ground. Concentrating on gathering the (h/c) strands at the crown of your head, you didn’t see the male shamelessly staring at your ass in the training leathers you were provided.

“Ruhn’s going to be to be your sparing partner today,” Cassian informed. “Let’s get you warmed up.” You flipped your hair up and secured it back in place in a messy bun.

“Your ass is grass Danaan,” You threatened, a playful smile on your own lips. “You fucked with my hair.”

“Baby, I could have sworn you enjoyed it before,” His blue eyes sparkled with mirth in the early morning sun.

“What?! No!” You looked over at Cassian, his eye brows raised. “No! Shut up asshole.” You hadn’t even started your training and you already knew this was going to be a long morning.

“Save it for the ring,” the General motioned for you to approach him so he could assist you with the warm up. As you completed your warm up routine you heard Lucien’s rough morning voice strike up a conversation with Ruhn.

“I hear your already causing trouble,” He nagged.

“Oh no, no no no,” You waggled your index finger, marching over the redhead. “These two motherfuckers started it.” You pointed at each of the males as they tried, Ruhn failing, to suppress their laughter. Yes, it was definitely going to be one of those mornings were the males all ganged up on you before the other females arrived. And not in the fun way. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop that train of thought. The last you needed was for one of them to smell that on you. Lucien just joined in on the laughter.

“Okay settle down now,” Cassian tried to regain some semblance of control. “Square up.” You walked towards the center of the training ring and planted your feet, flexing your toes to grip the ground as best you could through your shoes. The match with Ruhn started off simple enough. You had managed to dodge his attempts to get a hold of you, and he blocked all of your attempts to strike him with your fist. It was when you miscalculated the distance between your shin and his torso that was your undoing. You swung your leg up and towards his side, but he caught it and used the momentum to pull you towards him. As soon as your chests collided you shrieked.

“No!” You couldn’t suppress the giggle. Grabbing the large hands that had danced over your ribs, you easily pushed yourself away from Ruhn.

“Aw you’re ticklish,” Ruhn teased. You increased the distance between the two of you by several paces.

“If you tickle me, I will kill you,” You knew that was a lie made from false bravado. You’d never be able to get the best of any of the males here, not while you were human. It didn’t help that you could barely keep the laugh out of your voice.

“Alright tough girl,” He smiled and resumed his stance, “Come and get me.” Before you could react, the male had darted across the training ring and picked you up as if you still didn’t weigh more than him. You had to give yourself some credit though; after all you had lost a bit of weight since your arrival over a year ago. Most of it was within the last 4 months when you started this damn training. While your current performance was not a good indicator, the training had been useful. Not only had you picked up many skills with hand to hand self-defense, you were also learning how to properly use the dagger that Lucien had gifted you.

Ruhn hauled you over his shoulder like a giant sack causing you to scream again. You tried to push yourself up so you weren’t staring at his ass that was perfectly outlined in the damn leathers he wore. Unfortunately, there was nowhere except his ass for you to put your hands to get any leverage.

“Behind the knees!” You heard Lucien encourage Ruhn.

“TRAITOR!” You shouted, voice only slightly strained as you attempted to break free from Ruhn’s grip on your calves and hips.

“Thanks for the tip,” You felt his fingers lightly brush the back part of your thigh, just above the bend at your knee. You squealed and tried to squirm away with no luck.

“What about here,” Without warning, his hand traveled up the length of your thigh before giving a playful and quick squeeze to the spot just below the curve of your ass. A ridiculously comical high-pitched squeak escaped your throat. You clamped a hand over your mouth in embarrassment over sounding just like a damn dog toy.

“Was that her?” Cassian’s laughter filled the training area. Ruhn squeezed the spot again, and again you squeaked. All three males fell into a fit of boisterous laughter. You could feel the blood rushing to your head as you continued to hang over Ruhn’s shoulder. In a last-ditch effort to free yourself, you decided that you would just start attacking what you could reach. You balled your fist and reeled your arm back before slamming it down right on his own ass check.

“Hey!” Ruhn continued to laugh. You repeated the action, but it didn’t cause him to loosen his grip in the slightest. The other males just continued to laugh. Ruhn started to spin and you could see Cassian hunched over, bracing himself on his knees.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Nesta’s voice cut through the laughter, however, it didn’t die down.

“Would you look at that,” Bryce now beside her. “Ruhn’s finally getting his ass beat…literally.” You laughed at the comment, but seeing as how the male continued to tickle and tease, you decided to up your game. You raised your arm as before, but instead of your fist, your flattened out your hand. The loud smack reverberated off the stone surrounding the arena.

“Woah now!” Ruhn attempted to jump away. You smacked him again, pleased with yourself at his reaction. Using his hips for leverage you pushed yourself up to get a better look at those around you.

“Save it for the bedroom you two!” Bryce teased. Nesta scoffed.

“What!” You screeched. Ruhn and his sister just laughed harder. Cassian was in near hysterics. You couldn’t recall if you’d ever seen him laugh so hard. However, Lucien’s laughter had died down.

“Put her down, she’s not a toy,” Nesta instructed. “We need to borrow her before she has to meet my sister.” Ruhn slowly complied, strong calloused hands gripping your waist as he set you on your feet. He pressed a quick kiss to your temple before allowing you to saunter over to Nesta and Bryce.

“So whatcha need me for?” You pulled your hair free of the elastic band for a second time, the bun having already loosened. You carded your fingers through your hair before hastily pulling it back into a high pony tail. Bryce waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

“An experiment.”

Part 7

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[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere-Masterlist

Since this is shaping up to be over 20 parts, I felt this needed its own Masterlist. Please comment on here if you'd like to be added to the Tag this for this fic!

Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader, Ruhn Danaan x Plus Size Reader

Warning(s): Angst (so much honestly), mentions of violence/torture, mentions of self-harm, body image issues, self-esteem/self-worth issues, mental health, smut (in later chapters).

Summary: Reader is pulled into Prythian by an unknown force, coming face to face with members of the Night Court. She must learn to find her place and role within this world with only a vague prophecy to guide her.

“When magic returns to the Earth, and Death’s shadow unchained, will Celestial bodies unite to bring forth new...”

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

[mirandasidefics]

But Home Is Nowhere- Part 7

Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel X Plus Size Reader, and Ruhn Danaan x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Reader joins Nesta and Bryce for an experiment at the Prison.

A/N: I'm sorry this is so short and took so long. I had a really tough time writing this chapter after getting sick earlier this month.

As usual now there are some minor spoilers from HOFAS. I have a little head canon that Bryce was able to enter the Prison because she is a blood relation to Rhysand, albeit distant, so that's how she got past the wards without him having to be present.

I'm interested to see what people think regarding how or why Lucien showed up when he did...I'm toying with some ideas...

Part 6 Part 8

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You were fucking freezing. Teeth chattering, full body tremor freezing. The Prison, with its shores swathed in mist and snow covered peak, was on an isolated island in the far northern regions of Prythian, so of course it had to be cold. Wind and snow whipped around you and your two companions as you all stood on the far northern side of the mountain top. You were still dressed in the Illyrian leathers as you weren’t really given the chance to change after having quickly grabbed your cell phone from the town house at Bryce’s direction. Said female then winnowed you and Nesta directly from your bedroom. Neither female had yet to explain what this “experiment” would entail and why you needed your cell phone, which had minimal power left and no way for you to ever charge it again once the battery finally drained.

You rarely turned your phone on these days, wanting to preserve its power for when you were desperate. Desperate, lonely, and longing to see your loved ones. Every time you looked at the pictures on your phone you would break down crying. You would allow yourself no more than two minutes to quickly scan through the images. Eyes longing to linger and memorize the sleeping features of your nephew and the wide smile of your Father. The candid shots from Christmas morning and the Halloween when your nephew dressed as a Fireman, only for the outfit to be a size too big, always made you smile. Your nephew would be 7 now, and you tried to not think about how upset he must have been that you were not there for his birthday. You blinked rapidly, fighting back the sting of tears. Silver started to line your eyes as you conjured the image of him sitting in front of cake getting ready to blow out the candles. Instead you forced yourself to replace the image of your nephew with that of Nyx. You had promised to bake cookies together with Elain before the family dinner tonight.

Your small group slowly trudged through the snow towards what appeared to be an entrance of a cave. Its mouth was jagged with sharp uneven rocks. Scanning over the area, you weren’t even sure that you would fit through the narrow opening. Hopefully you would not be going inside, not without protection anyway.

“Okay, so this will be a two-part experiment,” Bryce finally revealed before grasping you by the shoulders. “For the first I need you to stand right…here.” She then spun you around so you could peer inside. You weren’t entirely sure what she had planned, but you were certain that you were not going to like it. The darkness that loomed just on the other side of the cave mouth was unnatural, and every human instinct in your body was screaming at you to run away. Run far and run fast. This did not appear to be an official entrance to the Prison. Was it even guarded? It had to be. Otherwise whatever vial things lurked inside would be clawing at the chance to escape through what amounted to be no more than a crack.

A strong gust of wind blew past and a shiver ran down your spine. You chanced a look back at Bryce and Nesta. Both were whispering quietly between themselves. You turned back to examine the stone again. What was so special about this, and why did you-

Hands were suddenly at your back and shoved you hard. You screamed in surprise as your body fell forward having not braced itself for the unexpected impact. Your hands flew forward trying to catch the rock in order to stop yourself from falling right into the cave. However, the rock was slippery and a sharp edge slashed the palm of your right hand. You practically face planted the hard stone that made up the bottom of the cave. One of them had pushed you into the cave, somehow by passing any wards that should have kept unwanted guests out. The darkness came crashing down and panic raced through you. You whipped around and saw that the entrance had nearly tripled in size. The light from the entrance was disturbingly minimal compared to what it should have been given it appearing large enough to have either Cassian or Azriel easily walk through with their wings spread wide open. You picked yourself up from the cold ground as quickly as you could. The space in front of you appeared as if a veil hung from the top of the stone. Bryce and Nesta were on the other side, their eyes surprisingly filled with conflict. You carefully lifted your hand towards the veil. You expected pain or a force that would push you back or even solid wall. Anything that would have kept you locked inside. Instead, your hand passed right through completely unhindered. You hadn’t expected that, but the smile that spread across Bryce’s face indicated that she did. And whatever gamble she decided to make with this experiment paid off. You wanted to smack that smile off her face. Before you had a chance to really think on the intelligence of that decision, you marched right out of the cave and grabbed the collar of her coat.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You screamed. “What if I couldn’t get out? More to the point I could have died!”

“But you didn’t,” She reasoned, her smile growing to show off her teeth. “And since I was right… It’s nice to formally meet you, cousin.” You felt your face scrunch up. You were aware of the theory that you may be related to someone who’s blood was attached to the sealed gate near the River House. But to have that be confirmed…No. This didn’t prove anything. As far as you could remember, only the High Lord of the Night Court could open the wards of the Prision. Unless…

“You and Ruhn are able to open the wards here too, aren’t you?” You let go of the redhead, hands dropping to your side. You knew that they had explored the island more than anyone in recent years during their visits to Prythian. “The three of us and Rhysand…we’re all descendants of Queen Theia and…” Bryce nodded.

“We can. Although I do have to admit that reason dictates that Ruhn and I shouldn’t be able to since the Prison was created by Silene. It should only be her direct descendants only with that ability. My brother and I do not fit that bill being the descendants of her sister that had remained on Midgard.”  You let out a breath.

“It probably goes without saying, but I would suggest that this information not get back to Rhysand,” Nesta spoke up.

“No shit,” You agreed.

“That means no telling Lucien,” Nesta gave you pointed look. Her steel eyes cold and filled with warning. You tried not to back away from the look, but the disapproval in it brought up a feeling of embarrassment and shame. You almost got the impression that she didn’t approve of your friendship with the courtier. You didn’t want to think on the reasons as to why, but you hazard a guess it had to do with Elain. You wondered if the middle sister was aware of the frequency of which you and her mate spent sharing a bed over the past year. Nothing inappropriate ever occurred, but the two of you had just grown used to falling asleep in the same room. 

“Then neither of you can tell your respective mates.”

“No shit,” Nesta threw your words back at you.

“Alright. This revelation stays between the three of us,” Bryce agreed. “But if you ever join us in Midgard we can always do DNA testing. It may help shed even more light onto how you got here.” You nodded, recognizing that it would take more energy that you had right now to convince Rhysand to allow you to travel to the other planet.

“So, what’s the second part of the experiment?” You asked changing the subject.

“The next part is where your phone is required. Do you have any picture of where you lived? Either your apartment or your parent’s house?” Bryce inquired. You nodded.

“I do, but I’m not sure how much battery life I have left,” You slowly pulled out your phone. “What happens if it doesn’t turn on?”

“Just try it first,” She encouraged. You pressed the power button and within a few seconds the screen lit up. The welcome message popped up and soon after your phone was ready for use. You quickly opened the Gallery App and began to search through the images for a picture of your parent’s home. You found a short video you had saved of your nephew dancing along to a TV show he was watching. While it wasn’t a picture, it was the best image of the entire living room. You handed the phone over to Bryce, who pressed play. At the sound of the music Nesta stepped closer and peered over Bryce’s shoulder.

“The picture moves?” She breathed. “How is that possible?”

“It’s a video. I’ll explain it more thoroughly later.” You offered. Bryce replayed the two-minute video before returning the device. The battery was at 15%. You quickly powered it down.

“Okay, I’ll need you to hold my hands and picture that living room in your mind,” She instructed. “I’m going to try and open a portal using the Horn.” She took your hands in hers and closed her eyes.

You swallowed, unsure if her plan would work. From what Bryce had mentioned to you previously, she had only ever been able to open portals to either people or places that she had known personally. Never to a place she was unfamiliar with. And your world was a place that you were certain magic did not work the same way as it did here. However, you were desperate to find out if the Horn would be successful. If this worked, you could go home. And while you would be unable to say your goodbyes, you attempted to justify to yourself that it would be best for all involved. Nyx was still young enough that you would be easily forgotten with little risk of abandonment issues popping up in later life. It would be the adult males in your life that would make leaving more difficult. For a brief moment you genuinely wondered if Ruhn would insist on going with you. He had recently started alluding to possibly staying in Prythian. If he ever did decide to stay, you knew- deep down you knew-that it would be for you. However, if he did follow you, life in your world would be incredibly difficult for him. He’d lose his magic and likely his immortality. Finding work would be nearly impossible without legal documentation and getting that would be expensive. Not to mention the plethora of questions that would arise when you returned after missing for a year, only to show up with a strange man on your arm. He’d come up with some rational as to why he should accompany you back. There had been no significant changes in Midgard with the Asteri, so Ruhn along with his sister and Hunt were all still considered fugitives. They returned to Midgard on occasion to continue their efforts in fighting the good fight, they always returned to Prythian when various authorities got too close to finding them. So perhaps the most convincing argument would be that you wouldn’t need him, but his friends and family sure as hell did. He was needed for when things did finally go south.

Settling on your decision, you closed your eyes and pictured your parent’s living room. Flashes of memories crossed your mind. Birthday parties, holidays, and sleepovers with friends. Anything and everything that allowed the image of the room to stay strong. Soon after you heard a faint whirring sound that reminded you of the opening of portals in Doctor Strange. You stopped breathing. Your ears listened for any familiar voices or sounds of your former home. The only sound was the wind as it continued to whip around you. You cracked open an eye and your heart sank. Before you and Bryce, was a black void. An open portal that led to nothing. No sound could be heard, nor light appeared to indicate that any life existed in the emptiness. You fought back the tears as your hope shattered.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N),” Nesta’s voice was soft. You couldn’t take your eyes off the portal as it slowly closed. Bryce squeezed your hands before letting go. You shook your head in an effort to fight off the negative thoughts that you knew were on their way. The attempt had failed, and you had gotten your hopes up. You knew that you shouldn’t have placed too much on to something that sounded too good to be true. You guessed that it would have been too easy, too simple, for her to open a portal. Nothing in your life could be that simple. 

“We should get back,” You finally looked at the other females. “Nyx should be finishing breakfast soon and we’ve got a full day of activities planned.” Nesta set her hand on your shoulder.

“Take a minute,” Her voice was surprisingly soothing.

“I don’t…”

“Yes, you do.” Bryce insisted. “We’ll go back when you’re ready.” The two females walked a few steps away from where you stood. Your eyes returned to the spot where the failed portal had closed. Your mind grew quiet as your vision lost focus. Tears burned at the back of your eyes. You tried to fight off the emotions as they spiraled down, scared that if you allowed yourself to feel them that it would take too long to come back up. You couldn’t afford to be in a fog. Not when you had to care for Nyx. Not when seeing him would just force the image of your own nephew, now fresh in your mind, to surge forward. You blinked rapidly, but that didn’t stop the liquid that brimmed your eyes from spilling over. The hopelessness crashed into you like a tidal wave. You wrapped your arms around yourself and sunk down onto your knees. Your chest felt like it cracked in two. The wind picked up, capturing your cries and carrying them away. You couldn’t see through the tears as they continued their relentless streams. You sobbed into the frozen mountain side. Your lungs began to burn and your vision tunneled. Your frozen limbs began to shake violently. Just as it all began, a warmth enveloped you. A warmth you felt you would recognize anywhere.

“It's okay, sweet girl,” Lucien held onto you tightly. “You’ve got time to cry. I’m right here.”

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Part 8-Coming Soon

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[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere-Part 3

Lucien X Plus Size! Reader, Azriel X Plus Size! Reader.

Summary: Nesta confronts Rhysand and Azriel pays a visit to the Moonstone Palace.

A/N: Hopefully the characters aren't too OOC for this one. I'm sorry this chapter is so short! Work got a bit busy so free time for writing was reduced. But I still wanted to keep my schedule of every other week. Just means there will be more chapters in the long run. This is Azriel's POV. The story will mainly be from Reader, Lucien, and Azriel's POV moving forward.

Warnings: Talk of nightmares, mentions of blood and violence.

Part 2

Azriel swiftly made his way to Rhysand’s office in the House of Wind for a debriefing with Cassian, Nesta, and Bryce after their return to Prythian. The group had been successful in their rescue efforts and the trio returned with Bryce’s mate and brother in tow. His shadows had told him that the two new arrivals had been beaten and bloody with healers rushing to the northern residential wing of the Moonstone Palace. He knew he should have accompanied them on their trip, especially after hearing of their losses of at least two spies as the group made their way out. If he had gone with them then he certainly wouldn’t have been forced to subject you to – He stopped short at the scene before him, at the absolute fury that radiated off the eldest Archeron sister. His shadows and siphons immediately responded to the small thrum of power emanating off of her. He smized he finally had his answer regarding the amount of power the cauldron determined she was worthy to keep after helping Feyre deliver Nyx. Nesta stood before his brother’s desk, her hands balled into fists at her sides, chest heaving. Rhysand sat in his high back chair, elbows resting against the dark wood of the desk. Only the swirling rage in his eyes giving any indication of his emotions. A large stack of books laid sprawled on the floor. Loose papers fluttered their way back down. A well of black ink had been topped over, its contents staining the already dark mahogany and the High Lord’s face. Bryce sat in one of the chairs opposite the desk, picking at her nails. Her eyes darting between the fighting in-laws.

“I don’t know what more you want me to say Nesta,” Rhys rubbed the bridge of his nose, “I have apologized to the woman and have provided for her. Lucien is keeping her company and assisting her in finding a way back to her home, but she will remain in the eastern wing for the time being.” Fuck. So, he hadn’t removed the letter Lucien left in the House before either Nesta or Cassian read it. Not that Azriel wanted to hide (Y/N)’s existence from the pair, he just wanted to explain that he agreed with the male. The human girl was of no threat, despite her highly unexpected and unsettling arrival. Given Nesta’s current disposition it appeared that she had already gone to the Moonstone Palace as Lucien requested. 

“You have her sealed inside the place just like that Spring Court bastard did to Feyre,” Nesta spat, the information hitting Azriel square in the chest. The image of (Y/N)’s terror filled (e/c) eyes flashed through his mind. Had his word not been enough to convince his brother of her innocence? Yes, she was no longer swathed in the darkness, the darkness that he was solely responsible for, but to still be a prisoner… He hadn’t wanted that for her. He wanted her to feel safe. She deserved at least that much, if not more. Azriel’s attention snapped back to the conversation before him.

“She’s just a girl Rhys,” Cassian spoke up from his position between his mate and the desk. “Nes and I spent the whole day with her. She-”

“You have dedicated an entire part of your court to the protection of traumatized females,” Nesta snarled, “You have created laws to ensure those that cause harm to innocents pay for their actions. Yet you violate everything that you’ve built by having her tortured and locked away for the past month! What does she have to do to convince you that she is not a threat?” Rhysand let out a breath, despite his efforts to exude a sense of calm, it was clear that the male was exhausted. 

“I honestly don’t know at this point,” The admission was one that Azriel didn’t expect, “But my decision stands.” Nesta clicked her tongue, arms crossing as she finally removed her gaze from the High Lord.

“I will not be keeping this from my sister,” Nesta seethed. Her steel infused eyes landed on Azriel and he tried not balk from the fury now directed at him. Her gait was steady as she approached, arms crossing over her chest. Despite him being a good 5 inches taller than her, Nesta managed to look down her nose at him.

“Not keep what from me?” The entire room went still as Feyre stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest and brows furrowed in annoyance. Her stance mirrored her sister’s, highlighting their similarities all the more. Azriel shifted in spot next to the door, glancing at his brother who slow stood up from his desk. The tension in the air thickened as Feyre looked to each individual in the room.

“What are you keeping from me now Rhysand?” Her glare at her mate would have had any other male cowering. This was perhaps the most frightening Feyre had ever appeared to Azriel outside of that battle field nearly 3 years ago.

“We will discuss the events in Midgard later. If you all will excuse us,” Rhysand swallowed, “I have something to discuss with my High Lady.”

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Azriel struggled to keep his shadows in check as they buzzed around the closed doors that did little to muffle the shouting match between the rulers of the Night Court. While the group had been dismissed, Azriel still had questions for his brother. He supposed those questions would have to wait, provided the Night Court still had a High Lord in the morning. He was grateful for the distraction when Bryce asked him to return her to the Moonstone Palace to be with her mate. It also gave him a reason to check in on (Y/N). Something he hadn’t been able to do since the day he and Lucien walked her out of the catacombs. He knew that keeping his distance would be best for her, but he couldn’t help the worry that invaded him on a nightly basis. That week had not been kind to either of them. It had been a long time since he experienced nightmares as a result of his…duties as spymaster. A long time since the tang of a person’s fear embedded itself in his memory. Maybe actually seeing her in a new setting would help ease his conscious.

He winnowed Bryce directly into the suite that had been set up for her and her family. A fire roared in the large black onyx hearth of the large sitting area. The set of doors to each of the two bedrooms were wide open, allowing the healers to run back and forth between them. It appeared they were in the process of packing up their things, when one approached him.

“Both males are asleep,” the elder female whispered, “The mate is in that room. He’ll need the most care for the next few weeks as his wings begin to grow back. The other might need to have healers from the Dawn Court take a better look at him, the High Lord too. There’s a heavy barrier around his mind.” He nodded and relayed the message to Bryce.

“Thank you,” The red-head squeezed his shoulder before dipping into the room on the left. Azriel awkwardly stood in the hallow space. Now that he was here, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had never spent any significant amount of time in the Moonstone Palace and the morning was a long way off. He had a general idea of where the unoccupied spare rooms were, but he wasn’t tired. He debated on making his way to the gardens when a wailing scream ripped through the halls. The sound caused Azriel’s heart to drop. The elder healer scurried over to the doorway of the room on the right, calling out to whomever was inside.

“Wren, the tonic, is it ready for her?” Her. (Y/N) had made that sound. Nausea whirled in his stomach. A young male appeared in the doorway with two medium sized cups in his hands.

“I’ll take it,” Azriel’s shaky voice passed over his lips before he could stop himself.

“Its for the human girl,” Wren gathered a funnel and metal flask from a corner table in the main sitting room. Slowly he poured the contents of each cup into a metal flask. “The male that’s with her says she suffers from nightmares. He asked us to mix this for her. It’s a concentrated brew, so it must be diluted with water or tea, preferably a sweetened tea as its quite bitter. No more than an ounce before bed.” The male grabbed a second smaller cup and placed it into Azriel’s covered hands. He nodded in understanding, his shadows already racing to find her. Another scream echoed, the terror laced within latching onto his bones. He had caused these nightmares. He knew he would never be able to atone for the trauma that she would now carry with her. Something in his chest snagged as yet another cry ricocheted through the palace. His shadows returned and swirled, urging him out of the room. A male groan came from the room Wren had exited and he quick scurried back inside.

“Hurry, before her screams wake them,” Azriel’s lips curled into a snarl at the insensitive remark as he was ushered out of the room. “They all deserve some rest Shadowsinger.”  The female healer amended, the entrance door to the suite clicking shut behind him. He made his way as quickly as he could to her room. His shadows frantic as muffled sobs could be heard bouncing off the stone walls of the eastern wing. He didn’t even bother to knock on the door before entering the bedroom. His breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight.

The bed was disheveled, the cream duvet pushed to the ground alongside several throw pillows in various shades of blue. Lucien was sat in the center of the bed, (Y/N) cradled in his lap. Azriel watched on as Lucien rocked her back and forth, shushing her and rubbing her bare back. The green top, clearly torn and discarded on the floor, was stained dark with sweat and…blood. Sobs and muffled apologies tumbled from her lips and into the golden skin of Lucien’s neck. Her hair, slickened with tears, plastered itself to her forehead. Her trembling hands held a vice like grip, her knuckles white from the force of her hold on him. The tips of her fingernails were stained red. Azriel’s eyes roamed over her for any signs of injuries. He wasn’t able to assess her front as she pressed against the male comforting her. It took him second to realize that the Autumn male’s shirt was also missing, and something ugly curled its way through Azriel’s thoughts. That was until he saw the upturned couch, and what was clearly spare blankets and pillows pinned underneath. Likely overturned in Lucien’s haste to get to (Y/N). It took him another second to realize that the room was sweltering. Every light in the room was on and the fire in the fireplace was twice the size it should have been, leaving no space for his shadows.

“Are you just going to lurk there?” The female started at Lucien’s words, letting out a whimper and he immediately consoled her. The male’s russet eye landed on Azriel, who cautiously approached the bed. Before he could get too close, the red-head held up his hand in warning. Close enough.

“(Y/N),” Lucien whispered against her cheek, the action far too intimate for Azriel’s liking, “I asked the healers to make you another sleeping draft. Go draw yourself a bath, and I’ll get the tonic and bed prepared for you.” He brushed her hair out of her eyes as she pulled back slightly. She nodded in understanding, and her grip on him lessened.  Azriel felt like an intruder as he watched her separate herself from Lucien, catching sight of the outline of her full breast underneath her arm before she fully faced away from him. The woman seemed to become aware of her bare chest and reached for a pillow to cover herself with. Azriel noted that Lucien’s eyes never strayed down wards and remained fixed on the headboard behind her. A better male that he was. Once she was out of the sight, Lucien rose from the bed and approached Azriel.

“How is she?” Azriel blurted. He wasn’t a fool. He could clearly see she wasn’t doing well, but the question fell from him nonetheless. He continued to stare at the spot she previously occupied on the bed. Lucien studied him, the golden eye whirring and zeroing in on whatever information he was trying to read in Azriel’s expression. The spymaster’s training set in and his features hardened. The emissary did the same. His shadows spluttered at the doorway as he took a step into the room.

“How is-”

“I heard you,” Lucien let out a heavy breath and carded his lean fingers along his scalp. “You want to know the extent of your handiwork? This is what I have come to know of her through my comforting her every night since arriving here. I have become more familiar with the sound of her screams than her laugh. I smell the fear that leeches out of her every pore. So potent and thick that even my own instincts have me searching the room to make sure there is no one here to harm her. Her body thrashes violently-desperately-to break the grip the nightmares have on her own mind. There are bruises on her ankles that won’t heal because she kicks against the bed posts everything night.” Azriel felt the color slowly drain from his face.

“She doesn’t always wake from the nightmares right away either. Tonight, was one of those nights. She was crying, pleading and begging whatever was haunting her to stop. She was clawing on her own throat and chest trying to pry what I can only assume were memories of your shadows away. You ask how she is doing? She is not well, and she is terrified of you Azriel.” A flame burned within his red iris despite the calm manner in which he spoke, and Azriel felt his body recoil in shame. He didn’t want to know any more. He knew this was his fault and didn’t need to be reminded.

“You want to help her?” Azriel nodded simply, not daring to speak after hearing Lucien’s tone laced with a bitterness he hadn’t heard in years. “She needs and deserves to be let out of here. Allowed to live far enough away from the Hewn City to know that she won’t be sent back down to that cell. But for now, she needs a dreamless sleep.” The Autumn male approached him slowly, his hand held out expectantly. Azriel handed over the flask and small cup.

“Mix an ounce of this with tea or water,” His own voice was barely above a whisper as Lucien continued to hold his stare. Shame and guilt clung to him. Without another word, Azriel turned on his heel and left the room, unable to bare witness to your suffering any longer.

Part 4

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