#does Lucien feel this knot like something is missing does elain want to call him and hear his sleepy voice

[phoebe-ofthe-cosmos]

i'm spending the weekend in nyc visiting my friend and i just

[aliciasqinnet]

All That I Am — Part 4

a/n: so this was only supposed to be four parts, but there will be at least one more after this one, we’ll see. i’m sorry it took forever, i was having a hard time getting in the groove. a giant, giant thank you to @cass-ian​ for believing in me even when i didn’t believe in myself and helping me out with this so much. i hope you guys like it!

Rating: M (semi-explicit content in the first bit)

Word Count: 3,642

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

The familiar manor house was cold as she made her way through it. She knew her way around, but Elain wasn’t used to going anywhere in this house without someone, a servant or something, by her side. She made her way quickly and quietly to his room. Graysen was waiting for her, his white teeth shining against his dark skin in a brilliant smile. Elain couldn’t help but smile, too.

The minute he saw her, he came to her, his hands reaching their way across her waist, his head ducking to press a tender kiss to the side of her mouth, just off her lips. She shivered. He knew her so well, knew what would make her squirm, make her growl, make her pull him to her and kiss him hungrily.

“Elain, my love,” he said. Graysen’s deep voice rolled through her. “I have missed you so.” He sighed and pulled her hair aside to bury his face in her neck, breathing her in. “You smell like flowers again, dearest.” His voice vibrated against her skin before he started pressing kisses to her throat.

Elain was breathless. She had missed him, too. Missed him more than she could bear. Had missed his gentle tone, his soft lips, his big hands. Those hands tightened on her waist as he pulled her to him, kissing along her jaw.

“Graysen,” she let out, barely any pitch to it. She felt his lips pull into a smile and he began walking her towards his bed, his mouth never leaving her skin. Her knees hit the side and she toppled back. Graysen was standing above her, looking down.

He leaned forward quickly, his mouth capturing hers as he situated himself over her, his knees to one side of her and his forearms framing her head. He kissed her like it had been a cold, harsh winter and she was the spring finally coming to save them all, like no one else in the world mattered or even existed. Like everything was this: this touch, this kiss, this moment.

Elain broke from his lips to trail her own down the side of his neck, but Graysen pulled away quickly.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided, “that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me. Ladies first.” The words made Elain’s back arch. He forced his way through her bundle of skirts, cursing women’s fashion comically as he did so.

Elain couldn’t stop giggling. She did her best to keep quiet, to make sure they wouldn’t be found, holed up in Graysen’s room. It wasn’t proper for Elain to be alone with him, much less alone in his bed with her skirts around her waist. But there was nowhere else she would have rather been.

Graysen’s breath was hot as he made his way between her legs, his fingers dancing along the edges of her undergarments until Elain lifted her hips, almost begging for him to pull them off her and bury his tongue inside of her.

“Gray,” she mumbled, and in a matter of seconds she was bared before him, his mouth pressing kisses along her inner thighs.

“My love,” he said, voice gravelly. His tongue brushed her once before he looked up at her. Elain smiled, telling him silently that he could go on. But Graysen’s eyes hardened, his mouth changing from a sultry smile to a sneer. “Who are you?” He asked.

“Gray, what do you mean? It’s me. Elain. It’s me.” His eyes only darkened more.

“What have you done with my betrothed. What have you done?” His words grew in volume and Elain shrank back against the covers.

“Graysen, please,” she begged. “You’re scaring me. It’s me. Graysen, it’s me.” But either he didn’t hear or didn’t believe her.

All of a sudden, there was a dagger in his hands, glinting from the light streaming through the windows. Elain couldn’t move. She tried telling her body to get up, to run, but she couldn’t. She was glued to the bed, her eyes wide and staring at the boy before her.

He climbed over her, the knife still in his hands.

“You deserve this,” he said. Elain felt a tear dripping down her cheek. “You are a monster. Where is my Elain? What have you done with her?” She could only shake her head. I don’t know, I don’t know, she wanted to say. I didn’t do it. But nothing came out. “You have destroyed her,” Graysen said, just before he brought the knife down, straight into her heart.

~

Elain woke with a scream, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest. She was drenched in sweat, her sheets covered in it, too. She didn’t even notice the tears streaming down her face from all the stickiness still plastered to her body. Her nightdress was clinging to her.

Her door flew open just as she was trying to catch her breath. The light of the moon illuminated him just enough for Elain to know who it was. Lucien stood in the doorway, panting, his eyes finding her immediately. He crossed the room to her, his hands stretching to frame her face.

“Are you alright? Are you alright? Elain, Elain, Elain. Are you okay? What happened?” The words tumbled out of him like a river. His russet eye shone with worry as he searched her face, her eyes, her body for any sign of harm. He relaxed a bit when he found no physical injuries, but didn’t remove his hands.

Tears were streaming down her face in earnest now, but Lucien did his best to wipe away each one as it presented itself.

“It was a dream,” she said, the words coming out more like a sob. “It was just a dream. But, oh, Lucien, it was awful.” He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers and Elain’s breathing started to slow.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, the deep timbre of his voice soothing her.

“I was there, with Graysen. And he, he— “Elain choked on a sob. Lucien’s hand snuck behind her head to comb through her hair. Nesta used to do the same when they were younger and Elain had a nightmare, or had fallen and skinned her knee. She took a deep breath. “He called me a monster. He asked what I’d done, who I was.”

Lucien scooted closer to her on the bed so that he was kneeling in front of her.

“You are no monster, Elain. You would never do anything to hurt another. If anything, you are the blessed spirit sent here to cleanse all the rest of us. And this is you, Elain. Just because you are not the exact same girl you were in the human realms, does not mean you are less yourself. Do you… do you feel that way?” Lucien’s gaze searched hers.

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. I… The girl I was there would never have been able to survive this. I am not her any longer. I can’t afford to be. But I don’t… I don’t know anything, Lucien.”

His fingers continued their path through her hair, gently combing through the knots. She briefly wondered how he knew what would hurt her and what wouldn’t, but then she remembered his own flowing tresses.

“You don’t have to, petal. But know that I will stand behind you. I will never stop trying to make you understand how breathtaking you are, how lovely you are, how kind you are. Elain, you are the kindest person I have ever met.”

She leaned further into him until she was almost curled into his lap, his hands never ceasing their movement along her hair and skin. She thought she might fall back asleep that way, but thoughts kept tugging at her mind, refusing to let her get any rest, do anything that wasn’t worry.

“You say I am not a monster,” she said finally. “That I would never wish harm upon anyone. But that is not true. I wish death on that horrid King of Hybern, a slow and painful one. I wish to make him suffer for all the pain he has caused me, caused my family. I wish that the human queens would one day get caught in between places when winnowing and be stuck there forever. And I would gladly, gladly,” she said, turning his head so he was looking into her eyes, “wreak havoc upon Tamlin and all he holds dear for the terrible, awful things he has done to you.”

Lucien said nothing. Elain searched his single russet eye for a glimmer of disgust, something that would tell her she was as terrible as she felt, that she truly was a monster. But there was nothing. Just quiet understanding.

“I think I might hate him most of all,” she mumbled quietly. Lucien just looked at her some more. His russet eye was shining with something, but Elain had stopped trying to read his emotions. She waited for him to say something, to tell her what he was thinking. But he didn’t. He only leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

Lucien pulled back too soon, and Elain raised her hand to trace the scar across his face. The raised skin didn’t feel unusual under her fingers, but just a part of him now. She kissed the tip of it, on his forehead, carefully before moving to kiss the bottom that rested at the top of his lips. She had to hold his head and pull it to her to be able to reach.

Lucien kissed her softly once more before he helped her sit so she was facing him. He kept his gaze on her as he removed the cotton shirt he’d thrown on when coming to find her. Elain watched with wide eyes and took in the sharp planes of his stomach, his chest, even his collarbones were breathtaking.

She’d seen Graysen naked plenty of times, though they’d never actually had sex. But something about sitting in her bed with Lucien in front of her changed the way she thought about bodies. Not only was Lucien’s incredibly alluring, it was also a work of art. Everything about his figure, from his slim waist to his broad shoulders even to his (massive) feet, screamed impossible. No one could be this perfect. But he was.

She tried to stay where she was and simply watch him undress, but a steady beat had already started in between her legs, so she lifted herself onto her knees and crawled towards him. His arms were already held out for her and they wrapped around her waist immediately.

Lucien’s lips fit so perfectly into hers Elain had to use all of her might not to get completely and utterly lost in him, though she didn’t think he would mind if she did. He knew everything that would please her without her telling him, though sometimes she did that as well.

Finally, she pulled away from him, both of them panting and a dangerous spark in their eyes. Lucien looked at her, and Elain looked back at him and it was like nothing in the world mattered or existed. It was just the two of them in Elain’s overly-frivolous bedroom. Neither of them said anything for a long while.

“Did your dream,” Lucien paused to clear his throat uncomfortably, “Did your dream upset you so much because it was him?” Elain shook her head slowly.

“Graysen… He was my first love. He was the first person to offer me another life. I thought I’d be safe with him. That’s half of why I loved him, I think. For that alone, I will forever be in his debt. But I do not think I have it in me to love him anymore. I owe it to him, and to myself, to let myself truly move on. Or to acknowledge that I already have.” Elain’s voice was barely a whisper, but Lucien heard every word. His breath had gotten caught in his chest at some point as she was speaking, and he only let it out when she looked up from her hands and into his face.

“Elain,” he mumbled. Lucien thought he could say her name a million times and it would never lose its meaning, its delicate flow. So many other words stopped being words when you said them enough. But not her name. He would never get tired of it. Lucien wished, not for the first time, that he could whisper it along her body, murmur it into her ear, press it gently upon her lips.

“What if I loved you, Lucien?” Elain asked. From anyone else, it might have sounded stupid. But from her lips, those lips he found himself mesmerized by often, from her mind, it was the simplest, most sincere question he’d ever heard. “What then?”

“Then whatever you want,” he said honestly. “We could wait, as long or short as you wished, or we could winnow to a High Priestess right now and be declared officially mated. But I would be very, very glad if you did. Love me, that is. If you decided to give me that chance.” Elain rolled her eyes and Lucien felt his heart stop in his chest. She’d been mocking him, she—

“I’ve already given you plenty of chances, Lucien,” her face softened, but Lucien still felt like something had grabbed hold of his chest and was slowly, steadily crushing it. “And in each, you’ve proven to me that you are absolutely impossible to resist.”

Lucien wanted to wink and retort that of course he was, but all he could do was stare at her. At her face, at her delicate brown eyes, the scars still lining the tips of her pointed ears, the bow of her lips.

“I would like to explore this. I would like,” Elain said firmly, “to explore you.” Lucien’s breath hitched again, but Elain could finally breathe. Finally, after months of denying herself what she truly wanted— to understand the inner workings of Lucien’s mind, to map each contour of his body, press her lips carefully to every scar, to wake up with his scent filling her to the brim with happiness— she’d finally set herself free.

Elain did not bother with techniques of seduction, which was perhaps why Lucien was going absolutely insane. He could smell her; the sweat from her nightmare mingled with the soft scent of floral perfume, and it, too, was driving him mad. But he restrained himself. Elain hadn’t moved.  

“Lucien,” she said quietly, but with more intensity than he could have imagined. Her voice sing-songed along the vowels of his name. She pulled his hand into hers and just lightly brushed her fingers along it, sending a spike of heat down his spine.

Before he could say anything, Elain had leaned forward and captured his lips with her own. It was like a dance, kissing Lucien. He was graceful where she was messy, cautious where she was forceful. But somehow, everything worked. Somehow, the world melted away until there was nothing but the feel of his lips on hers, the pressure of his hand resting against her back.

Lucien pulled away after some time, his breathing, like Elain’s, labored. His russet eye was gleaming in the sunlight and his lips were swollen. Elain thought he’d never looked more beautiful.

This time, he pulled her to him and kissed her. His arms wrapped tightly around her, one of his hands resting lightly in her hair. Elain was having none of that. She slid her hand behind his head and held him firmly, her tongue parting his lips. Lucien was surprised, but not opposed, and his hand tightened in her hair.

She was perfect, truly. Everything about her was so incredibly unblemished. Lucien never wanted to leave her sight again, leave her embrace. He felt like all the world was their own, like nothing could touch them. And he was finally safe.

Elain lost herself in Lucien. Every breath of air that forced them to part was excruciating, and nothing would calm the incessant pounding of her heart. But for once in her life, she wasn’t ashamed. Elain only groaned and pulled him closer. Her mate. Her mate.

Lucien tugged away from her once more, pressing a gentle kiss to the edge of her mouth in an apology. He slid one hand carefully through her hair, from roots to tips, tugging on the knots with his fingers until they came undone.

“I don’t want to rush anything, flower,” he mumbled, his lips tucked against her forehead. “We can take our time.” Elain let out a quiet humph but when Lucien pressed a kiss to her temple, she sighed contentedly, leaning into him.  

“Will you stay with me tonight?” She asked, her voice muffled against his bare chest, her breath tickling it ever so slightly. Lucien looked out the window to see that it was still dark outside, not even a hint of light in the sky. He wondered for a moment if he’d ever looked at the night at the same time as her, even from across the wall. The thought gave him a sort of subtle comfort.

“Of course I will. Anything for you, dove.” Elain smiled, a faint blush forming on her cheeks. She pulled away from him reluctantly and Lucien shivered from the cold. He got up silently and went to extinguish the light he’d brought with him from his room when he’d felt her anguish through the bond. Before doing so, he loosened the leather bracelets he kept lining his left arm and dropped them onto her dresser, one by one.

When he had returned to the bed, Elain lifted the heavy covers long enough for Lucien to slide in under them, lying so he was looking up at the ceiling, one hand resting lightly on his stomach, the comforter pushed down to his hips. Elain maneuvered herself into a similar position, though she was covered all the way up to her chin.

Their arms were just close enough that she could feel a gentle heat radiating off his body. If she stretched her hand just barely an inch, she’d be able to touch him. But she didn’t. Lucien remained motionless as well, though she knew he was just as aware of the charged space between them. He might be centuries older, but both of them were new to the bond and the constant rage of emotions was hard to suppress for both parties.  

“Goodnight, Lucien,” she said, her voice coming out like a whisper.

“Goodnight, Elain.” Lucien could hear her breathing and it was driving him crazy. She was so close. They’d touched often enough now that it shouldn’t have been uncomfortable for him to be just an inch away from her, but there was something about lying in her bed. Alone in bed with the woman he loved, his mate. Lucien was almost trembling from the effort of staying apart from her. To make things worse, Elain was clad only in a satin nightdress and Lucien’s shirt was lying somewhere on the floor, and in some wicked way it felt both painfully wrong and irrevocably right for them to be so bare in front of one another.

There was nowhere in all of Prythian that Lucien would rather be, no one he would rather spend his days with, spend his nights with. Elain was almighty. She was everything he had ever dreamed of but thought he would never be permitted to have. She was the candle in a five-hundred-year strain of darkness. She was the first bloom of spring after a long winter, the first breath of air after coming up from underwater. She was all things good and beautiful and strong and he was so hopelessly in love with her.

Lucien knew in his bones that he would have loved her, mate bond or not. Some nights he found himself wishing that he’d known her sooner, that she’d been there for him sooner. But he also knew that it was not her job to pull him out of his misery. She had just given him a reason to do it for himself.

“This is absurd,” Elain tutted. Lucien could hear the sheets ruffling as she tossed and turned. “You are my mate,” she grumbled and Lucien’s heart flew into his throat, “not some stranger I met on the side of the road. We do not have to stay apart any longer, Lucien.”

He blew out a deep breath, but didn’t move. Elain groaned and turned over on her side so she was facing him.

“Lucien, look at me, please,” she mumbled. He tilted his head to the side and found Elain’s face much closer than he thought it would be. If he leaned forward just the tiniest bit, they’d be kissing. He strongly considered the idea. “I give you express permission to touch me.”

At that, she leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to his lips, giving him just a second before she pulled away. Lucien sighed faintly and Elain turned over again, facing away from him. The sheets rustled and she began to feel the heat of his body on hers. He tentatively slid one arm around her waist before pulling her to him so that her back was flush against his chest. She could feel his breath against her neck, rustling the hair there.

It felt like everything she’d ever wondered about, every question she’d ever had was answered by his body against hers this way. It was a missing piece to a long unsolved puzzle, finally learning the correct answer to a riddle. It was all consuming, it was simple and it was perfect.

“Goodnight,” Elain said again. She felt Lucien’s lips against her when he spoke.

“Goodnight, my love.”