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hyperfixation-station-1234 · 7 years

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Peace Talks

From Slow Burn

More Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Sorry one took so long! I just started a second job and it’s been an adjustment. I’ll try and get the next one out soon! Thanks for all the love everyone<3

“Elain, you don’t have to come,” Feyre was looking at her like she was about to break.

Elain smiled at her sister, “I want to be there and see this through. I’ve been involved from the beginning and I won’t shrink away from my part in this.”

Of course, she didn’t have to go to the peace negotiations between Fae and Humans. Feyre, Rhys, and Nesta were the only three from the Night Court that were truly needed. Yet, Elain couldn’t shake the feeling that it was crucial she went. And it wasn’t as if she was the only other extra from the Night Court. It was a given that Mor, Cassian, and Azriel would go as well. Even if Amren wasn’t currently vacationing in the Summer Court she doubted she would’ve been accompanying the party.

It was because of Graysen and Lucien, that Feyre was worried for her. The fall out of her engagement with Graysen was… difficult to think about. The future she envisioned with him was a fairy tale. Her hopes had been strangled lifeless by his cold indifference to her and his harsh judgement of not only her, but her loved ones. She hadd let herself fall deep, deep, deep into a pit of nothing. She was numb, and that useless yearning for a life that could never happen had gotten her kidnapped and had put Feyre and Azriel in danger.

Lucien was an entirely different story. The possibilities of a future with Lucien were always present. Yet, even with the bond, that physical link she could feel, there was something missing. Elain couldn’t put her finger on it. It wasn’t that he repulsed her or that he wasn’t a good person. She had grown to know him, and she enjoyed his company. But her body was telling her that the bond was good while her heart and mind weren’t agreeing. She knew Rhys had told her mating bonds were supposed to be for equals. While she was just learning of her abilities and the power she had been given, in mind and in spirit she didn’t think she could give him what he needed. And she didn’t believe he could give her what she needed, either. She would have to do something about it. Something soon.

Elain, however, would not let either of these things intimidate her. She was free and she was strong. It was she who had helped save this world, she who could see the future, and she who had brought the King of Hybern to his knees. Hers would not bend to anyone’s will but her own from now on.

When Feyre continued to stare at her like she was about to fall apart she blurted out, “Where you all go, I’ll go. Who knows, maybe I’ll be of some use in the negotiations. I was human once, too. Now, will you help me find a dress?” Feyre smiled, but the worry didn’t leave her eyes. Elain knew she couldn’t convince her sister she would be fine, not until she could show her she was.

Elain still had no idea where any of her clothes came from. She suspected Cerridwen and Nuala. They were a perfect mix of the colors and softness she loved before with the daring cuts and elegance of her new life at the Night Court. Feyre helped her choose a dress of nude chiffon with sleeves ending just above her wrists. It was embroidered with detailed birds and trees in dark blue and bold black and flowers in soft blues, pinks, and yellows. Her hair was left loose and free, save the small portion Nesta had braided earlier and pinned in a small crown a top her head. Feyre approved, dressed in her own gown of glittering blue black and a crown of sparkling diamonds in the form of stars and moons.

They descended the stairs to the first floor. Rhys was the first she saw. His eyes glued only to his High Lady, his love. Elain could only feel happiness warm her body when she saw such love for her sister. Love she deserved and had fought for. No words were exchanged and she knew they were having a conversation the rest of them couldn’t hear. Feeling like a voyeur she moved her attention to the others.

Like always, Azriel was the first she sought out. His face was unreadable while his shadows swirled furiously. His eyes trailed her while she walked towards him, settling by his side. She let her eyes trail him right back. He was dressed in his Illyrian leathers as usual, with Truthteller ever present at his side. His hair just brushing his collar, his eyes blazing more gold than hazel.

As she reached his side, she teased, “Why did I have to wear something so nice while you get to go in standard attire?”

He smiled knowingly. It wasn't a secret from anyone that Elain loved to wear pretty dresses.

He looked down at her and smiled, “You look,” she blushed when his eyes roamed over her again, “… very beautiful, Elain.”

Just as she was about to say thank you, Rhys called to Azriel, who was to arrive first. Even in times of peace, Azriel had explained to her once, it was still necessary to take precautions. She felt his hand settle once the small of her back, before he started moving away from her. Quickly, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly, a silent reminder to be careful. She had gotten into the habit of doing so when she knew he was leaving for a mission. He smiled at her over his shoulder before he vanished into shadows.

Not even a minute later, Rhys pulled Elain into his side with Feyre on his other. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again she was stepping onto her family’s estate in the human realm. She felt Rhys give her shoulder a quick squeeze and stepped out from his side, letting her sister and her mate to be the first to walk into the meeting. Mor followed closely behind. She took in the replica of her their old mansion before her. She felt Azriel sidle up to her side. Without looking, she knew his arm was out and ready, so she took it.

It was decided that the Archeron property would be the meeting location of all further negotiations between the Fae and the Humans. Nesta had seen to the rebuilding of the home. She and Cassian had worked tirelessly to restore the marbled black and white floors, the hearths, the walls. As they entered the house her eyes soaked in the mural of Prythian that Feyre had painted on the wall. They had converted from the dining room into a larger area to accommodate meetings such as these. It was the first time she’d seen the building finished.

Only now it didn’t quite feel like home anymore. It didn’t hold the same weight in her heart it once did. Instead of making her sad, it made her yearn for the townhouse, the open gardens, and the salty breeze wafting from the Sidra.

Around the large, round table constructed in the middle sat Kallias, Vivian, and Thesan. Apparently, it was habit for them to always be the early arrivals. When the other lords and their entourage started to enter the room one after another, doubt started to creep into her mind. Maybe coming wasn’t such a good idea. What good could she really provide for this meeting? She hadn’t realized that she had been gripping Azriel’s arm so hard until his other hand smoothed over hers clutching onto his arm bracer. She felt Azriel lean toward her and whisper, “You belong here, if not more than most the people in this room, El. Don’t let them intimidate you.” Slowly the tension started to leave her shoulders. When she looked up at his face, his hazel eyes were filled with certainty and his shadows only a wisp around his ear, she drew the confidence he shared with her into her soul. She wondered if that was what he always told himself when he was forced to be around the Illyrian camps as Azriel pulled a chair out for her next to Nesta.

In the door way, she saw a familiar flash of red hair and the russet gold eye of Lucien. A lot had happened since he found out he was Helion's son. He had left to learn what he could of his unknown talents. Apparently curse breaking was in his blood as well as fire. And instead of coming back to the Night Court, he left for Vassa’s court. He had told Feyre before he left that he owed it to her to try and help free her from her curse. He looked good. And happy. He inclined his head toward her, giving a soft smile, which she returned.

Even though she was starting to embrace her life as High Fae, there were still members of the Prythian Courts that she would avoid given the chance. All of whom were currently in this room. Tamlin, and any male from the Autumn Court made her wary, until she had the mind to remember the male standing directly behind her, not to mention any of the members of the Night Court were there with her. And even she could hold her own in a sparring match. She wasn’t as good as the rest of them yet, but she had time. She knew she was improving.

When the humans arrived, she found it wasn’t entirely too difficult to see Graysen among them, dressed in a full suit of armor like he was going to war instead of a peace talk. Elain had never been one for displays of disapproval, yet she had the extreme urge to roll her eyes. She looked back at Azriel and saw him smirking, like he knew she thought the extreme measures Graysen and his father took weren’t only ridiculous, but showed a blatant lack of effort to put forward into trusting the Fae. He didn’t even look at any of them. Peace talks, indeed.

Graysen appeared different than when we last saw him at the end of the Battle against the King of Hybern. That warm spark she remembered in his eyes wasn’t there. She tried to see him as a man she once loved and found it difficult. It had been weeks since she had taken off the ring he had given her. She had tossed it in a drawer, not quite sure what to do with it. She certainly wasn't giving it back to him.

She felt rather than heard Azriel moving closer to the back of her chair. The eyes of her sisters were trained on her and she smiled at them both. She was okay. With her family surrounding her, she could only be okay.

The meeting started by speaking of the threat of not only the human kingdoms on the continent, but of the Fae kingdoms across the sea. The death of the King of Hybern had left his kingdom open for siege. Azriel had spoken quietly in the meeting with the inner circle of their movement. They were getting ready for something big. Most likely, they were going to attempt to take Hybern. The only thing separating these kingdoms from Hybern was Prythian. And Prythian needed a chance to stand on solid ground if they were to oppose what was coming.

The next discussion was on the topic of the human refugees that were still staying in the Courts. Would they stay if they wished? Would they be forced out of the kingdoms that they had been staying in for months, only to go back to a desolated village they once called home? Surprisingly, Tamlin was the first to announce his borders would be open for the humans to cross into and live. Of course, the Summer and the Night Court were also willing to open their borders.

The trouble came when the issue of progress of reconstruction in the Human Realm.

Nesta, being the emissary from the Night Court to the human realm, was justified in asking just how much progress had been made.

Sir Nolan was not forthcoming. Instead he sneered, “Why do you want to know? If you deem us weak, will you take our land as well?”

Nesta didn’t even react, but the air in the room buzzed Elain saw a flicker of red and turned to see Cassian’s hand tighten on the back of Nesta’s chair.

Straightening her back and lifting her chin. Elain lifted her voice, trying to placate him, “She was only asking because we can help. There are plenty of people, Human and Fae, willing to be put to work. More hands are better than less. Working together can only be a positive thing for us all, especially with what the future holds.”

Feyre, sitting on her opposite side reached down and squeezed her knee. Elain couldn’t tell if it was in approval or pity. Because the next words that were spoken to her weren’t nice. They were vicious.

It wasn’t Lord Nolan who said them, but Graysen.

“How are you going to do that? Sleep with and promise yourself to a male from every Court and Realm in Prythian? You’ve a good start with a Lord’s son as a mate and a male from the Night Court.”

To her credit, Elain knew her face was just as pleasant as before the comment. Even though it was embarrassing and humiliating, she kept her head high. She didn’t cower like she would have previously. In the next second, she heard Lucien growl from across the table, then she felt utter darkness leaking into the air around the room. Enormous pressure built. She didn’t have to turn around to know Azriel’s eyes were blazing gold and his syphons were shining boldly. Even as the room darkened, Elain didn’t feel uncomfortable or scared. No, as the blood drained from Graysen and his father’s faces, she only felt the shadows support and give her strength. Quietly, dangerously Azriel said, “Speak to her like that again and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out and nail it to the table.”

Those words were so at odd with anything she’d ever heard him say. Azriel had always been kind and steadfast, she’d rarely seen him lose his temper. This version of him was terrifying, but not to her. It made her stomach flutter, not drop with fear. The wooden chair behind her groaned under the pressure of his tightening hands. She was always comfortable in his darkness and to show him she reached her hand back and touched his leg. The muscles of his thigh clenched and stretched out under her fingers. Then, in the next heartbeat his shadows receded. The room was clear again and the pressure had subsided. Azriel’s fingers interlaced with her own, his fingertips felt icy where hers felt warm and the heat from her hand quickly transferred to his.

Graysen voice quaked, “You can’t do that. There’s a treaty that protects anyone in this room.”

Instead of responding, Azriel’s gaze locked onto Graysen across the table. She heard a throat clear and pulled her head toward the man standing in the corner behind Vassa. Jurian scowled at Graysen, “Boy, he doesn’t give a shit about the treaty. Frankly none of us do. I certainly wouldn’t stop him.”

Lucien’s smile had turned wicked, “He’ll take your tongue, but I’ll find something else to take from you.” Elain hoped he was saying that out of fondness and not because he felt he had to.

Her hand was no longer holding Azriel’s but wisps of his shadows lingered, intertwined with her fingers. Elain softly spoke, keeping her voice from shaking, “The war may be over for now, but there are still people hurting, who need to restore their lives. The quickest way to getting Prythian to prosper is restoration, and the quickest way to restore is to help one another. One doesn’t have to see the future to know the outcome if we don’t come to each other’s aid.”

An elderly human lord, who she did not recognize, nodded his head, “My people could very well use the help of the famous Archeron sisters. We would be in your debt.”

Smiling softly, Elain inclined her head to the lord, as did Nesta and Feyre. The Night Court may be the farthest from the human realm, but Elain knew that no effort would be spared on their part to restore Prythian again. And just so, two more lords accepted the invitation to share in the restoration. Kallias, Tarquin, Rhysand, and even Tamlin had all agreed to the exchanging help with human lords. Thesan and Helion didn’t have much damage so the exchange wasn’t necessary on their parts. Elain figured Beron didn’t agree based on principal of needing to be difficult.

When all topics were exhausted at the end of the meeting, few things were truly solved. Yet, there was progress in some areas. Centuries of mistrust and prejudices cannot be undone in a day. But Elain had hope for what was to come for Prythian. Even in the face of possible danger, they could all bring real peace to their world.

When the meeting was over, Elain walked out of the room arm and arm with Feyre. Sometimes it was strange to imagine that she was older than her sister. Feyre had always been an old soul. Elain had certainly never acted like it she was older. But now they had time to mend what had been strained between all three of them. She felt Rhys’ long arm drape around them both and settle over her head.

“Well done, Elain,” he told her. She saw Feyre’s lips tip up in a smirk. In the next second Rhys took her arm and spun her away and into Azriel’s side standing off to the right. Her hands landed on his chest and his hands came up to hold her elbows.

Azriel spoke quietly so that only she could hear, “It a good thing you’re naturally graceful.”

“I know, isn’t it?” Most people would have guessed she was just responding, but she knew Azriel could hear the dry sass in the voice of her response. He was the only one who could recognize it.

“And very humble,” he nodded to her solemnly, yet his eyes twinkled with humor.

And then standing in the foyer of her old home she saw it.

The vision came so abruptly, she froze. She was lying on a chaise in the garden, but she wasn’t alone. Tan and toned arms were wrapped around her waist. Those arms could have belonged to many people. But not those hands. They were scarred and they were beautiful, holding her tightly against the body attached to them. Large wings were shading her from the midday sun. His voice whispered into her hair, “Go back to sleep, Sunshine. I’ve got you.” In the vision, she turned to stare into the eyes of the male laying behind her.

Instead she found herself in the present moment, with the same man. And Elain wasn’t scared. She had known for some time what her heart yearned for. Who it yearned for. But it wasn’t the right time. Not when she hadn’t talked to Lucien. And certainly, not when she didn’t know if his feelings were the same as hers yet.

Azriel eyes darted to and fro between hers, “A vision?”

She could only breathe, “Yes.”

Azriel’s gaze turned inquisitive, “Is it something I should know?”

“No, not yet.”

His face softened and he nodded. She loved that he trusted her. She knew her visions could provide a useful boon to the Spymaster of the Night Court, but she knew he asked because he also cared. He knew what it was like to hear voices, to see strange things that weren’t there.

She must have been staring at him in a weird way because he quirked an eyebrow at her, “What’s wrong with my face?’

Elain laughed, and patted his cheek, “Absolutely nothing. It’s perfectly handsome. Rhys has a contender for best looking.

Of in the distance, I heard that, was shouted by their most illustrious High Lord.

Chuckling he extended his arm to her, yet again. Ever chivalrous.

There were many things needed to be done. Many important discussions needed to be had. Not today, but soon.

Elain clasped his arm between her hands as they disappeared.

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