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talkfantasytome · 3 years

Note

I beg for a part two for the Elucien secret dating AU😩

Of course, nonnie! <3

Kinda loving this little AU. And I have no shame on any of my head canons about the characters I portray here. 😇

Author's Notes at the end, including a Ted Talk that's probably not needed with y'all, but I couldn't not post it.

Feel free to send me requests/prompts for this AU/story! And let me know if you want to be tagged to future updates! (Which will likely be based on asks I receive for it...)

Part 1 | Read on AO3

Word Count: 3,176

Semi-NSFW

TW: Implied past experience in consent not being respected. Internal monologue on a woman's right to her own sexuality.

Elain wasn't actually excited for study group.

No, absolutely not. She wasn't that much of a dork.

She certainly hadn't dressed up for it. Of course not. She hadn't spent most of her morning doing up her hair and working on her make-up for her lazy Saturday afternoon study group. And it definitely didn't take over an hour finding the perfect outfit that was both extremely flattering on her while also allowing her to look comfortable and casual.

Nope, it was a quick decision for her to pick out the pale pink sweater and grey with pink hints plaid flare skirt combo.

Depending on one's definition of quick, that is.

It was just luck that her messy bun, with wisps of hair framing her face, turned out so perfectly. That with it, and her sweater-skirt combo, she looked so completely at ease, like she'd just fallen into this outfit.

Her over-the-knee grey suede boots padded down the pathway to the Henrik K. Fox Memorial Library - which everyone just called the den. It was slightly dark in decoration and insanely cozy, with its plethora of couches and armchairs. Plus, it was common for students at Forest City College to know way too much about foxes, including what their shelters were called.

Elain checked her thin, silver watch - she was right on time, meaning five minutes late. Not late enough to truly be late and interrupt them, but she definitely wouldn't be the first one there. No, Lucien typically arrived anywhere between ten minutes early to right on time. He'd never once shown up even a minute late, which was perfectly predictable, because she planned to watch him as she walked toward their group.

She hadn't seen Lucien since their 'study group' the week before. Excluding the intense eye-fucking session they'd had during class that left her entirely breathless.

Her body had reacted far too heavily to that.

She'd ended up rushing out of class as soon as it was over and into the bathroom to find some relief. Not exactly what she wanted, and surely not as satisfying. But she wasn't about to drag Lucien into some closet or toilet stall, not after the interruption Saturday - stupid Eris and his 'I'm ten minutes away, let's hang' - and his promise that when they did have sex, he'd take his sweet time with her.

Elain wanted that more than finding a quick release with him between her classes. For the first time, at least.

Making her way through the familiar library, confident navigating through the stacks to one of the more secret alcoves the way only a senior could be, it took no time at all to find their usual meeting spot. And she was entirely unsurprised to see the bright, red hair hanging over the plush love seat that she was approaching.

Noticing no one else had arrived yet, Elain paused and slid off her grey coat before continuing forward. She slung the coat over the empty back of the same couch, leaving her left hand on the edge as she walked her body around it a bit, crossing an ankle over the other and leaning on her hand.

"Hey there." She smiled softly at Lucien as she watched his face turn toward her and take her in, his eyes definitely lingering on the bare skin of her thighs between her boots and her mini skirt. "This seat taken?"

His eyes finally made it to hers, after a long roll up her body, and he smirked. "I sure hope it is now."

Elain's grin grew as she slid into the open seat, noticeably close to the center of the couch. "I didn't expect to beat everyone else here."

"Jurian and Vassa are on their way," Lucien sighed. "Or claim they are. Which means I most likely woke them up with my text, so they'll be a while - had a bit too much fun last night at Psi Phi."

"Of course," Elain laughed. "Did you go to the party?"

"For a bit," he nodded. "Well, for about five minutes until I realized exactly what it would be like to spend the night at a party with those two."

"Maybe you should stop forsaking your own fraternity, then," she jokingly chastised. "Could've hung out with me instead, and I'm a blast at parties."

Lucien chuckled. "I'm sure you are. But I've never really been one for official mixers. Or anything that has to do with Omega Xi."

"Good thing you're an O.Z. brother, then." She gave him a pointed look. "You seem to do enough to stay with them."

"Nothing short of getting arrested for a violent felony will get me kicked out."

"Must be nice, to be such an important legacy," Elain offered. "I know you hate it, but I wouldn't mind. I worked my butt off during recruitment to be noticed and wanted by Sigma Xi."

"I highly doubt you had to try half as hard as you did. From what I've heard, every sorority wanted you. And if any didn't, they were idiots and have figured that out by now."

Elain just shrugged, goosebumps erupting on her skin at the way the compliment caressed her.

It didn't go unnoticed by Lucien, and he picked up the blanket that was laying on the armrest - there were tons of blankets stored and hidden by past students around the library in these secret coves, far too disconnected from the main areas to be heated by the various fireplaces. Shaking it out, he draped it over both of their legs.

She tried to pretend her heart didn't start beating rapidly at that kindness.

"I might have to reconsider my philosophy on mixers," he admitted, sliding a bit closer until their thighs brushed against each other, a heat spreading from the point of contact. "Considering how often they're with Sigma Xi."

"Like we'd let the hottest guys mix with another sorority," she smirked, looking up at him through her dark lashes.

Elain felt herself leaning closer as she noticed Lucien doing the same, her breaths becoming shallow as she started to share his. There was only an inch left when a voice had them quickly pulling away from each other and looking around the room.

"I'm so sorry!" Cerridwen sighed, plopping into the arm chair next to where Elain sat. "I was helping Nuala learn a new recipe and completely lost track of time!

"No worries," Elain said, smiling at her friend. "Jurian and Vassa are running late as well. We were just talking about what we did last night. How was your evening?"

With that little prompting, Cerridwen launched into what she would call an epic tale about the bar she and her sister had gone out to, the boys they'd teased, and the after party they'd found themselves at. The twins were, admittedly, some of the biggest party girls on campus. Unlike everyone else, though, they could stay out until four AM and be up at eight, cooking a gourmet breakfast the rest of them could only every get when their parents visited and took them out to eat.

Lucien and Elain just sat there, listening and laughing to the truly insane story, as all of Cerridwen's were. Yet the tension remained in their bubble, their thighs still pressed against each other's under the plush blanket. Elain noticed Lucien's hand twitch every so often, as if he wanted to reach under and start to brush it up and down her leg as he had last week.

Elain would be lying if she said she didn't want that.

Her eyes were on her friend - Cerridwen's long, straight black hair moving with her body as she narrated - but her focus was on Lucien, and she registered every small movement he made.

It would be so easy to grab his hand and wrap it around her shoulders, to lean her head on him. Cerridwen wouldn't care. If anything, she'd encourage it - likely tell Lucien and Elain to just skip this session and go back to his place, offering to cover for them so long as he promised to make sure Elain got some.

She'd been trying to help Elain find a hookup for months. Apparently, six months was 'too long for relying on one's hand'. She often told Elain her poor fingers wouldn't survive the pressure.

Cerridwen forgot about the wonders of technology. An easy thing to do when you had no qualms about sleeping with a different guy each weekend. Elain had to admit, she was envious of the woman. She knew the different rules about how many people a girl could sleep with were stupid - women could be as sexually active as they wanted, and anyone who judged them for it could just leave. Still, it wasn't Elain's style. She could handle casual hookups - so long as it was a more exclusive form of casual, or a long-term casual. Preferably exclusive and long-term. She can have a bit of a jealous streak when it comes to her man, no matter how official or 'formal' a relationship it is.

Thus, she remained untouched for six months by anyone but her and her vibrator. And Cerridwen had had enough of it. She'd even suggested Lucien once, right around the start of the term, saying something about how she heard he 'fucked like he has fire in his veins' - whatever that means.

As with all, Elain had said no, even though for the first time her body was definitely screaming yes.

So yeah, Cerridwen would support it, one hundred percent. But Elain and Lucien agreed last week that whatever happened between them would have to remain a secret. Not because their friends would care, or anyone on campus - except maybe any of the number of guys and girls that had their eyes on them for themselves - but because they couldn't risk it getting back to their parents. Their college was far too close to their families to risk it.

It was twenty minutes of torture as they listened to Cerridwen's story, determined not to look at each other, until Lucien's phone went off. He read the message and huffed out a laugh.

"Jurian and Vassa are cancelling," he explained. "Apparently 'standing up caused the headaches to get worse'."

A laugh erupted from Cerridwen. "And yet, shockingly, I'm sure the sex they're about to have won't cause any issues at all."

Elain felt herself blush at the blunt comment from Cerridwen and she cursed herself internally for being so sensitive. She didn't know why she was, but she always had reactions like this when it was brought up in conversation so freely by others. Especially when guys were a part of it.

"I'm not commenting on that," Lucien groaned.

Cerridwen just rolled her eyes. "Fine. Well, if they're not coming, I'm out. A.B.G. is hosting a stoplight tonight, and I need to go shopping for a new outfit. Elain, care to join?"

Elain's eyes snapped to her friend's, brown meeting black. "Oh, no, thank you. I'm not going to that party, and I did have some things I wanted to get done this afternoon."

"Okay. See you losers later." She smiled and waved her fingers as she started back out the library.

"And then there were two…again," Lucien chuckled, finally looking back at Elain. "So, not a fan of A.B.G. or of stoplight parties?"

"Both," she answered, turning her face toward his. "Especially a stoplight party with Cerridwen. She'd never let me get away with wearing red, and even if I could convince her to let me wear yellow, she'd find a way to sneak some green in. But it's just not my style."

Lucien nodded at her response. "I get it. I'm not really one for those types of parties either. While I appreciate the concept of being able to blatantly tell people how willing you are to entertain being hit on, some don't grasp that green isn't automatic consent." Lucien's eyes darkened in a haunted way that made Elain want to wrap her arms around him.

"Very true," she agreed. "Just because someone is open to finding something that night doesn't mean they'll want it with you…meaning, like, the royal you. Not you-you." She started fumbling over her words, her eyes darting down as she flushed with embarrassment.

Lucien laughed softly, hanging his head closer to hers. "I knew what you meant. I like to imagine that, at a party like that, you'd be open and interested to my advances." As he spoke - his voice low and sultry - he finally slid a hand under the blanket, taking one finger and gently brushing it up her thigh.

It was the lightest of touches, but still Elain shuddered, her head snapping up as she allowed herself to get lost in his russet eyes.

"Even in red I'd be green for you," she whispered, her breath hitching at the way his eyes lit up, and the smile that spread just for her. It was gentle, delicate, and full of something Elain couldn't quite place but knew she wanted more of.

She barely waited a full second before bringing her hands to the nape of his neck and pulling herself up, pressing her lips to his.

If Lucien was surprised, he didn't show it, not missing a beat before kissing her back and opening for her as one arm snaked around her waist and pulled her closer until she was half-straddling one of his thighs, his other hand holding her under her knee.

Their tongues danced, twirling together, pulling apart, and then coming back, the kiss sloppy and wet in a way Elain had never felt before. She'd clearly been missing out.

Then again, by not kissing Lucien she'd been missing out. No man had ever made her feel this way through something as simple as a kiss. Like a fire was spreading through her that burned only for him, an answer to the one in Lucien that called to her.

His arm tightened and he pulled her up so that she was truly sitting on his thigh, her skirt surrounding her legs, leaving just her lace underwear separating her from his jeans. The pressure building had her rocking her hips, gasping as she rubbed herself against his leg, and she couldn't stop. Couldn't stop wanting more. More pressure, more friction, more of him.

Ripping her mouth away from his, she started pressing kisses up his jawline, bringing out her teeth once she reached his neck, biting and sucking gently as she trailed down the soft skin. He moaned as she bit down on the pressure point of his collar, and the sound had Elain purring in satisfaction.

She could feel him hard beneath her as she pressed her body closer, her center moving against the highest part of his thigh she could reach, and damn did it feel good. He was all muscle beneath her, and she could feel it against her core so perfectly that her release started coming faster than it ever had before.

Elain whimpered as she found her way back to his mouth, kissing him deeply, one hand now tangled in his hair as her other explored his body - his chest, his abs, what pressed against his stomach.

And as she let her hand brush against that hardened bump, she felt her organs pause, even as the rest of her continued moving. He was huge, definitely bigger than she'd had before. He would fill her in a way she'd never felt, and she couldn't wait for it.

"Oh my gods," he groaned into her mouth as she trailed up and down his length, over his pants. Yes, they had a blanket, but it was barely covering them, and they were in the library. Clothes needed to stay on - entirely.

Plus, Elain had a feeling that once one button got undone, the rest would follow before she even knew what was happening.

Elain's own hips sped up as she felt her climax continue to build, her kissing becoming sloppier and slower until she stopped all together, focusing on her core, her hips, her budding release.

Her breathing grew heavy and ragged as she rested her forehead against Lucien's, her eyes fluttering shut. Lucien's hands brushed up and down her thighs, small squeaks starting to escape from Elain with each exhale.

"Come for me, Elain," he whispered, his voice a gentle song that filled her heart, his breath a caress against her skin.

Her release erupted through her entire body, entire being, as she shuddered. And as it did Lucien's lips captured hers, muffling her moan as he swallowed it like a favorite tea. Elain clenched and twitched as she rode it out, until finally she collapsed against him, panting heavily into his neck.

"I think it's time I take you to bed." His voice was barely a breath in her ear.

"Please," she practically whined, her arms draped over his shoulders.

He chuckled at her reaction and then hissed a curse, one of his hands reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. "Yeah?!"

Elain didn't try to pay attention to the conversation, instead choosing to pepper kisses up and down his neck, enjoying the soft noises that came from him, the way his voice sometimes cracked when she bit down as he was talking.

Despite that, though, he ended the call clearly furious, sighing as his face fell against her shoulder.

"That was Eris…again," he explained.

Elain couldn't help but laugh. "He really has amazing timing."

"Apparently my presence is required within the hour. Some dinner and I need to get to the house early for it."

She pulled back, lifting his head and slowly brushing her fingers through his hair. "A charmed life, indeed," she teased softly. "We'll find another time."

Lucien practically growled at the comment. "I can try to leave early, and call you when I'm out?"

"Sure," she offered, nodding. She doubted he'd be able to do that. Elain had experience with having dinner on Beron's schedule. He took up the whole night. Always.

Leaning in, Elain kissed him delicately, giggling at how Lucien's hands tightened on her legs for a second.

"Come on." She slid off his lap and stood up, taking his hands in hers and tugging him up as well. "Are you walking back to your place first?"

He nodded. "But we should go in different directions if we can. Otherwise I'll never make it to my parents' house."

With a wide smile Elain pushed up onto her toes and pressed her lips to his, her hands still in his.

"If you do end up at that party, please where red," he breathed on to her lips.

"I'll even dye my hair." She grinned widely and kissed him again before slipping her hands out of his, pulling on her jacket, and swinging her bag over her shoulder.

With a final wave Elain turned and started back down the maze of stacks, feeling Lucien's eyes on her even after she was out of his sight.

a/n: I'm not sorry for my Cerridwen and Nuala headcanon. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And you can't tell me Elain isn't the jealous type. I'm not saying she's mean about it. But Elain would still get jealousssss. Cannot change my mind.

Correct Opinion #1: A woman's sexuality is her own damn business, and she is welcome to embrace it the way she bloody well wants to. Judging a woman for doing just that is wrong - if someone's choices aren't hurting you or other people, there is nothing at all to judge. And even then it's not always something to judge, cause that's not our job. And if you wouldn't judge a man for whatever ways he chooses to embrace his own sexuality, then it is also misogynistic. It's okay to have your own beliefs, opinions, and choices around your own sexuality, to hold yourself to your own standards, but those standards are yours and for you alone. Don't judge others on their sexuality, and don't let others judge you, whether you are very open or extremely closed off with your sexuality - so long as it's what you want and is what you're comfortable with, it's right.

^^ And that's essentially what I was trying to get at in that little internal monologue for Elain. But I may have missed it a bit cause of the voice of the character and because of general writing style and all that.

Correct Opinion #2: Being given blatant consent to hit on someone, or at least approach them (as wearing green/holding a green cup at a stoplight party tends to mean, pending the rules), does not mean consent for anything else. Or consent to continue hitting on them if they've told you they're not interested.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #elain and lucien #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #fan fic #fanfic prompt #ask box #secret relationship #college au #modern au #smut #fan fic smut

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exquisitley-obsessed · 3 years

Text

Fiances, Firebirds, Foxes and Fawns: 8

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn’s attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain’s father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF

Pairings: Elain x Lucien, Elucien

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault/abuse/rape + abusive families

A/N: I’ve added a tag list for those who wish to stay updated with this story! Just message me if you wish to be added <3

MY MASTERLIST

THIS FIC’S MASTERLIST

AO3

Chapter Eight: Sisterly Love

Son of a bitch. Son of a fucking bitch. He had everything Lucien had ever wanted and then decided to fuck it all over. And for what? Because he was too much of a privileged idiot to care about anyone other than himself? Son. Of. A. Bitch.

Lucien’s knuckles were bleeding, but it was safe to say that the poor tree seemed to be faring worse. The Autumn male had walked into the woods until a healthy distance was between him and the manor (and all beautiful, flower-growing females within it) and then he had begun his search for the largest tree he could find. The trees in the human lands were nothing special, especially not compared to the endless auburn forests of Lucien’s home Court, but it wasn’t too long before found a red sequoia that had a thick enough trunk for his needs. It was a solitary tree which Lucien guessed was at an equidistance between the Manor and the home which he and Tamlin had bought for Nesta and Elain before going under the mountain. The home in which Elain had been stolen from. Another thing to be furious about.

After shedding his jacket and tying his hair back with a strip of leather, Lucien had begun to brutalise the tree. His hits were neat, and he moved with the trained precision of a courtly solider. He hadn’t learned to fight like the Illyrians, in cold camps, throwing punches as though they were a lifeline. Lucien had been trained to fight within duels which had rules and manners. It had been Eris who had taught him, the only one of his brothers who’d even bothered to speak to him, and that was mostly because their mother demanded it of her eldest.

When Lucien was little more than a kit, Eris had taken him into the endless forests of Autumn where they were hidden from the prying eyes of their father’s guards. It had been Eris who had given him his first sword, Eris who had taught him how fighting can happen via the mouth or palm. That to cut into someone with your words could be just as effective as the edge of a blade.

Eris had never lowered his guard, had never been kind, had never praised Lucien, but he had helped him when no one else would. Even if it were because he, like Lucien, couldn’t resist the pleas of their mother. The two of them were sensitive to her, particularly as Lucien had gotten older and this somehow catalysed their mother’s mind to unfurl like a ball of yarn. Eventually she’d been declared mute to the court. She wasn’t, of course, but their father didn’t want the courtier’s hearing of her nonsensical ramblings of wyverns and sunlight.

But even as Lucien hit the bark with enough force for it to splinter and fall to reveal the lighter spongey wood beneath, it was evident that he was not entirely an Autumn soldier. Going to Spring had meant there was also something beastly in the way he fought. The flames that licked up his forearms didn’t heed to ideas of conformity; those were wild and untamed. It made sense his fighting style was not truly Autumnal considering he had never honestly fitted in there. Well, he didn’t truly fit in anywhere. It was like he was not made of one Court, or one blood, but rather something messy and diverse.

Right. Left. He hit the tree with enough power to send shudders rippling through his bones. Right. Left. Above the beating of his fists he could hear his breathing, even and undisturbed, even after two hours of relenetless beating he had not yet broken into a sweat.

Unlike the Illyrians, for Lucien, fighting was about control. It was about taking something that was not disciplined and sharpening it into something dangerous. The Illyrians were brutal and raw, they fought with emotions, Lucien fought to bury his.

Right. Left. It had been some time now and Lucien could begin to feel the tree moan. He’d beaten through a large chunk of its mid-section so that it was now in danger of toppling. He needed to stop but, he couldn’t.

Right. Left. Just a little longer, he just needed to get his bottomless anger towards the boy under control, so, a little longer and then he’d turn back. His flames still begged for release despite their unleashing that morning. It had always been that way; his fire had been the one true thing to protect him from his older brothers. Even when he was a child, barely tall enough to meet his mother’s knee, he’d responded to his brother’s teasing with undisciplined spurts of light.

It had been a problem. He didn’t remember much of it, just that his unnaturally strong display of power had sent his mother into a nervous spiral. Eris had appeared, again, to deal with him.

Lucien had been trained by a strange man who he could only meet after the sun had gone down, and he had to meet him at the astronomy tower of the southern houses. The man was quiet and painfully old, especially for a fae. Old enough that there had been grey hairs in his mane of chocolatey hair. He’d wheezed his words as he taught Lucien to suppress elements of his powers, and Lucien had hated him mainly because he would dress in these strange white cloths that were bundled around his torso and legs, making him look like a babe.

That’s how Lucien had learnt to lock and compartmentalise his powers, which appeared to him now as circular panels. The outer most layer being the most trivial of tricks: heating up cold tea, warming the sheets on a chilly night, lighting lanterns with a wave of his hand. Below that were the displays of strength, such as the flames on his arms. Then there were the layers of the affronts: streams of fire, explosive sparks, even the fire runes he’d learned which he could mark on the floor so that when an enemy crossed them they would turn to ash. Down and down it went like the skin of a snake, the animal of his mother’s blood house. The inner most layer wasn’t a layer at all, but what he’d been taught was the heart of his power. When Lucien closed his eyes and focused, he could see it, glowing in his chest. A ball of pure, golden light that thrummed with raw power.

The lessons had ended abruptly, before Lucien was even tall enough to meet his mother’s shoulder. Just like that, the old male was gone, and Eris had appeared instead.

Lucien was weary. There was no reason for Eris to speak to him unless he’d done something wrong. That’s how it went for everyone, and Lucien could never understand what he did exactly to provoke them all. Sometimes it seemed reasonable, when he wandered too far from the grounds or was found reading forbidden books. Other times he didn’t understand why the beatings came, such as when his brother’s had pulverised him when he was on the forest trails looking for flowers, apparently males didn’t care for flowers, apparently his misdoing was worthy of a broken femur.

Lucien was on time, wasn’t he? He was always good with time, he could read the sun, moon and stars as though they were a second language. He’d come back to his room after dinner, dressed in his night clothes and laid in bed pretending to sleep whilst counting to 1000, then he rolled on his back and looked out his window and waited till the moon was hovering over the oak firs, then he would sneak out.

But he must have done something wrong, right? Because when Lucien had climbed the steps to the astronomy tower and entered the room in which Dracon was usually pre-seated and waiting with a soft smile, there had been Eris instead. He was standing behind Dracon’s empty chair and holding onto it’s back, looking bored as he glared at the telescopes.

“Dracon isn’t going to come here anymore. Your lessons are done.” Eris was a full grown male now, all of Lucien’s other brothers were close behind but there was something still unfinished about their scruffy hair and cruel eyes. Eris had the grace of a full grown fae male, and Lucien silently wished that he could be more like him, all elegance and cunning grace. Not the meaty bulk of Travis or Ruadiridh.

“Have I done something wrong?” Lucien couldn’t help but ask in a small, quiet voice. If he were to be beaten, he had developed a small routine to distract himself, to pull himself far away from his body so that he couldn’t really feel the hurt as it happened, only after did he feel the pain. Eris looked irritated by his question, and Lucien pushed himself against the tower door.

“Have you? Is there something you wish to tell me?” Eris’ eyes blazed as he looked at him. Lucien shook his head furiously. “Good.”

“W-where is Dracon?” Lucien stammered and hated himself for it. Stammering in front of his family was like offering a pork chop to a starved hound. He waited for Eris to pounce.

“Gone. He’s not coming back,” Eris said instead in a cold, emotionless voice. Lucien’s hands shook with disbelief at his luck.

“Gone? I-Is he okay?” Lucien was pushing his fortune. Never before had he tried to ask one of his brother’s so many consecutive questions, but something about the moonlight was making him reckless. That, and the tiredness of his brother’s stature. Eris was barely a grown male, and yet he seemed as old as father in his worry.

“No,” Eris said, and his face turned enigmatic as he looked down on his littlest of brothers. Eris seemed to assess him for a moment, taking in Lucien’s cropped auburn hair and browning skin. His face turned cruel, cold. His eyes turning into dark stones that gave away no emotion. Lucien steeled himself for his brother’s insult, but it still rattled him all the same.

“No, Lucien, he’s not coming back. He’s dead…and it’s all your fault.”

***

Right. Left. Right. Left.

Eris. Another thing to be angry about.

It had taken years of living with Tamlin for Lucien to begin to understand that the way his family had treated him was abnormal. That true brother’s taught each other strength and friendship, not how to practice mental mind games so that Lucien could escape his body whilst they cut him up and put him back together.

Right. Left. He’d been out for so long that he’d over run his time. He was supposed to meet her at 10.

Right. Left. The drumming of the blood in his ears was so loud that Lucien didn’t hear the slight ‘pop’ of a figure winnowing behind him. Nor did he turn quick enough after hearing the raw yet feminine battle cry.

“You bastard!” A small yet strong form collided into him, sending him back against the mutilated tree trunk. Lucien didn’t even fight back, not when the braided crown of pale brown hair told him all he needed to know.

“NESTA!” Lucien looked above the wildcats crown to see Feyre, dressed in simple black shirt and pants, reaching out for her wolf of a sister.

“You stole her! You ripped her away from us you-” The following language Lucien had not heard in a long time, and yet it was certainly not the first time an angry female had called him such names. Lucien just leaned back against the tree as Nesta’s small, yet sharp arm dug into his guts, and she pressed a blade to his throat.

Just for the hell of it he cocked his head and smirked, trying to look unbothered and arrogant – because doing so made him feel like he had some form of power, even though he was clearly at the Archeron sister’s mercy. God, this really shouldn’t happen as often as is it does.

“Nesta I have told you time and time again that Elain left of her own volition-” Lucien felt a pang of pity for his friend as she sighed and rubbed at her temples. Feyre was a new mother, and it seems that it’s not just Nyx that has needed babying the past few days.

“And I’ve told you that I don’t believe a word of it!” Nesta snarled. Lucien just glared down at the female before taking in her fitted Illyrian leathers, the new ropes of muscle that curved across her thin and sharp body, even the siphons on the back of her hands, glowing violet. Lucien snarled.

“Who the hell taught her how to wield a knife?” Nesta’s returning grin was nothing short of feral.

Nesta had always reminded Lucien of a blade, or something worse, something infinitely sharper and more dangerous. She held herself like a queen, one whose cruelness may have been on par with Eris’. She was taller than Feyre and Elain and was all sharp edges and bones. Feyre had been lither in her figure, after building muscle she appeared more cat-like in her grace. Elain…

Lucien couldn’t dwell on Elain’s figure for too long, or at least of what he imagined of it through her long skirts. All he knew is that she was shorter than her sisters, with a softer jawline and a bigger chest that was often bound and hidden from sight. Right now, Lucien really couldn’t be thinking about how he imagined her to have a hefty swell at her hips, or how her thighs might look spilling out from the top of stockings, or the…Lucien mentally slapped himself.

An erection right now would get him stabbed in the throat.

“Get off me,” Lucien growled, wrenching his hands up and pushing on Nesta’s shoulders. Despite Nesta clearly having been honed into a warrior, he still did not push hard, he could not find it within him to act aggressively towards a female, not even one with a knife to his throat.

Not after his mother.

“You will take us to her,” Nesta just growled, standing agonisingly straight and glaring at him with ice in her eyes. Lucien wasn’t convinced her powers had completely vanished, and a small shiver ran the length of his spine at being so directly under her focus.

“No, he will not,” Feyre just sighed, running a hand over her head.

“What are you doing here hellcat? I don’t remember inviting you,” as Lucien spoke he shot a glare at Feyre who just sighed for a third time.

“She figured out Elain was gone and has been tearing the Night Court down ever since. I thought if perhaps Nesta could come and see that there’s no danger then maybe my people might be saved of her wrath.”

“Poor Night Court,” Lucien cooed, brushing down his pale drawstring tunic and fitted brown pants.

“Have you two lost your minds?” Nesta just scowled, her fury now turning (thankfully) to her sister. “Elain is not safe in the mortal lands, are you forgetting how the humans treat the fae? What about the one human who may have a particular reason to not want to have her around.”

This is why he couldn’t despise Nesta. Despite all she had said and done. Because at the end of the day, Nesta had a fierce loyalty that Lucien not only admired, but could see within himself. Perhaps there would never be a day where they could consider one another as friends, but they both were bitter, both believed the worst of people and weren’t easy in trusting. But beyond the apparent mess of a relationship between them, they’d both go down fighting to protect Elain.

Not to mention they were the two first in line to shiv the Nolan boy.

Maybe that would be the thing to tie them together, planning a secret mission to infiltrate the Nolan manor and slit the boy’s throat whilst he slept. Nest might actually respect him for a night.

“I don’t know what the hells’ going on, but Elain is vulnerable and the only place she can be thoroughly protected is in the Night Court.” Nesta seethed, her glare feeling like steel.

“Elain’s vulnerable?” Lucien asked in a low voice. Feyre’s note, the one which Elain had arrived with had been incomprehensible with the rainwater. What if there had been a message informing him of Elain’s safety? What if Elain was in fact seeking asylum in the mortal lands. Lucien swore at himself internally. When it came to his mate there wasn’t much else he could do but protect her, and even that he seemed to fail at.

“She’s no more vulnerable than the rest of us,” Feyre shrugged with a roll of her eyes. “There’s some concern with the Cauldron reaching for Elain but she hasn’t had a vision in two years, and she knows to notify us if that changes.”

“But yeah besides the threat of Koschei there isn’t too much to worry about,” Nesta sneered, folding her arms protectively over herself. It was a tell of hers Lucien had picked up on. For a female who was full of steel and wit, her body language said that she was guarded and well…lonely.

Elain leaving must have hit Nesta hard, Lucien realised. He’d noticed how Nesta treated Elain, almost protecting her too much after the Cauldron, as though by taking enough care of Elain she could make up for what she failed to do for Feyre. Elain leaving randomly, in the night, without notifying Nesta, must have re-awoken that feeling. Nesta’s drive to protect, as though she wanted to protected her sister from the pain she’d been through.

That’s where Nesta was wrong, Lucien couldn’t help but think bitterly. Nesta had ultimately infantilised her sister, had refused to let her walk without holding her hand, how she had in some twisted way trapped Elain on a leash.

I care for you, I protect you, I provide for you. You must love me. Please love me.

When Elain had strayed too far on that leash, Nesta had recoiled, she’d gone of the edge. If Nesta couldn’t overprotect her sister, then she wouldn’t protect her at all.

Lucien ultimately felt sorry for the viper. Again, because he saw so much of himself in her. Lucien didn’t know how to love in small quantities, he had to devote himself fully, to everything.

Love or death. Lucien physically shuddered as the phrase stumbled through his mind. It was a stupid, stupid promise he had made when he was young and full of hope. A stupid, violent, costly promise.

“I promise you Elain is safe within my protection. I would give the whole speech about how we could make a bonding pact over my protection of her, but I know you know I’m being serious.” Lucien picked at his nails, still leaning against the tree and tucking his leg up. The image of boredom.

“And do you really think you’ll be enough to protect her?” Nesta seethed, whilst Feyre looked him up and down curiously.

“If you want to have a little wrestle in the mud Nesta, just say so. I’m sure you’ll find me more than capable of handling myself.”

“Oh I don’t doubt you’re capable of handling yourself, given it’s all you’ve got.” Nesta sneered, evidentially agitated by his taunts. That’s where Nesta needed training, Lucien couldn’t help but think, and for a moment he realised he sounded like Eris. Eris would take one look at Nesta and roll his eyes – “You wear your emotions like a fool. You’ll never be good enough to be a courtier. One look at you and everyone could tell what you want. It’ll be your greatest, most haunting weakness.”

“Rather scandalous, Nesta, I must say. You thinking about me handling myself? I thought you had a mate-” Nesta roared and charged for him. Feyre threw a casual shield between the two of them which the hellcat promptly bounced off. Lucien just focused on staying relaxed. When he was relaxed, he was in control.

“Children please!” Feyre barked, holding a palm up to both of them. Lucien just chuckled as Nesta seethed and Feyre sighed. “Surprisingly, we’re not just here to engage in pitiful threats and stupid insults, we did actually have a matter at hand to discuss.”

Fear coiled in Lucien’s gut. He’d almost forgotten. With the rhythmic almost meditative training and the distraction that was Nesta’s fury, he’d been blissfully unaware for a moment of why he’d called the remaining Archeron sisters to the mortal realm. Lucien stood straight, pulling on his jacket and tying his cuffs.

“You said it was urgent?” Feyre said softly after a moment, still maintaining the shield between himself and the hellcat.

“And private, if I recall,” Lucien flickered his eyes to the viper.

“I can send her home if you’d like.” Nesta went to complain but Lucien silenced her.

“It’s fine. In fact it…it might be better for you both to hear it…” He was getting nervous, he knew it. Turning into the male that he became whenever he went to the Night Court. But they were on his territory now. God, how ironic was that.

“Is it…is…are you okay?” Feyre looked alarmingly concerned, even Nesta’s anger seemed to have settled into a soft simmer.

“I’m fine,” Lucien said quickly. Too quickly.

“Elain…” Feyre trailed off. And Lucien sighed deeply.

Then he began. He told them both of how everything had been fine between himself and Elain (promptly skipping over their minor capture in an Ashwood trap) and there had been no problem till last night where, after talking about Graysen and his new engagement – Feyre gagged, Nesta swore – Elain had dreamt of a memory and had unwittingly sent that memory to Lucien.

“So…what’s the problem?” Nesta probed, her anger now having well and truly given way to a steely determination. Feyre’s shield had even dropped.

“It’s the dream isn’t it – what was it?” Feyre asked. Lucien hesitated.

“I…I don’t know if I can say.”

“Oh no, nuh uh,” Nesta clipped, “You did not drag us across Prythian, tease us with something threatening our sister only to back out now.” Lucien sighed as he glared at Nesta because, well, she was right. He’d called them for a reason and that reason was he didn’t know what to do. The bond forced delicate information of Elain’s to be forced into his lap, but he didn’t yet see himself as someone with the clearance to deal with such things. But that didn’t mean they should just be ignored. Elain needed someone. She needed her sisters.

Right?

“The dream was a memory, and it was of her and Graysen, they were running through some woods. They were engaged and…and…” Lucien grimaced.

“What?” Feyre asked, her concerned High Lady voice coming out. Lucien just looked at her, at them both. What he was about to tell them, well, it was going to change things.

“The two of them were enjoying each other’s company and I did all that I could to not intrude-”

“What? You just stood there and watched as they, as they…” Nesta glared at him, disgust in her eyes. Fury coiled in Lucien’s gut.

“I assure you Nesta if there was a way for me to stop witnessing as my mate was lain, spread and taken by another man, I would’ve found a way out.” The words were cold, harsh, and both Feyre and Nesta recoiled slightly. They had mates. They understood.

Lucien took a deep breath and tried again.

“That wasn’t the problem. I would not have have called you if that was all,” he began, now finding he was unable to look them in the eye, “They weren’t…they didn’t actually do anything besides some mild fondling. At some point Graysen began to force himself on her, after she refused several times he got angry with her-”

A sharp intake of breath from one of the sisters made Lucien wince.

“It was then that he began to…manipulate and coerce Elain into giving ‘consent’” Lucien used his fingers to form brackets around the word. “Graysen wouldn’t stop until Elain agreed to meet him in a barn near a Eucalyptus-”

Another gasp had Lucien looking up. He regretted calling them immediately.

“Look, I don’t know how human judicial systems work and legislation differs between the Courts, but in the majority of the Courts’ eyes Graysen could justifiably be trialled for rape.”

Both sisters froze. Nesta turning to ice, her features somehow becoming more pointed and severe. Feyre looked…emotional. Her hands were shaking as she brought them to her mouth.

“Rape?” Feyre eventually gasped.

“It…it does differ between courts. In Autumn, no, it wouldn’t count. Spring legislation hasn’t been updated in centuries given how underdeveloped the Court has been with its weak bloodline, so it’s a no there too.” Lucien knew laws of Spring. He’d researched them endlessly after Calanmai. “I used to assume the Night Court was the same but, given Rhysand’s stance on sexual assault survivors I’d believe that yes, Graysen could be charged. All other Courts, Summer, Winter, Dawn and Day could all put him on trial. The exact charge is generally defined as forced or non-consensual sexual contact. It was coercion, and therefore not consent.”

Lucien had felt lifeless as he spoke. He had to. He had to take all his emotions and bury them in the deepest recesses of his mind. If stopped to think even for a moment about the fact Graysen could be charged for raping Elain, the air started to leave his body and he felt as though he’d start to have a panic attack. He hadn’t had one of those since before he met Jes.

“I don’t know if she…if she…”

“She did,” Nesta said in a cold, unfeeling voice. Her eyes were glazed and far away.

“She came back in the morning, and I found her in the gardens, she wasn’t wearing shoes and her dress was buttoned wrong and she was just wandering. I…” Nesta’s voice broke and she cleared her throat, still not looking at anyone. “I took her in for a bath and she was fine, after that. It was like it took her a moment to be convinced that she had enjoyed it. After that, she was glowing and happy. Graysen always seemed to make her so happy…”

Lucien cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I…I brought this information to you because I didn’t know what the human standards are for any of this. I don’t know how the humans would prosecute-”

“They wouldn’t,” Feyre said solemnly, a hand still covering her mouth, “Human judiciaries don’t really do…rape…the only time people are trialled and convicted is when it’s wealthy women of a certain bloodline who were clearly raped in a brutal way with a direct witness.”

Fury once more coiled through Lucien’s gut. Elain had been taught to expect this. She’d been taught that Graysen touching her like that, talking to her like that – she’d been taught that that was love.

“I see,” Lucien grappled with the beast within, “I…the bond between Elain and I has shown me this, but I feel it is not yet my place to-to-”

“We understand Lucien,” Feyre stepped forward taking his hand, and Lucien found himself leaning into the touch. As pitiful as it was, he needed Feyre to take over, to take this information off his hands for the time being. He just couldn’t – he didn’t know how – it wasn’t his place and yet –

“She’s our sister and we’ll find a way to deal with this, to broach the subject with her and find how she feels.” It was as though Lucien could see Feyre switch from concerned sister to High Lady of the Night Court, Feyre the Cursebreaker. Lucien could only nod at her solemnly.

“Lucien,” Nesta started and as he looked at her, he could practically see the internal war raging on inside those icy eyes. He just waited until she found the words. “Thank you…” She spoke at last. Lucien nodded, and that was that.

Nesta went to speak to her sister when she paused and looked down at the siphons on the back of each hand, glowing a violent shade of purple.

“I-shit…I was supposed to be back in time for training.”

“Go,” Feyre said, still holding Lucien’s hand, “We’ll talk later.”

Feyre and Nesta seemed to share a certain sisterly stare with one another, almost as though they were conversing without speaking. Eventually Nesta nodded, and with one more steely yet grateful look at Lucien, she winnowed away.

Feyre turned to Lucien.

“Thank you, Lucien, for telling us about this. I know you’re trying your hardest given the circumstance.”

Lucien nodded. Yes, the circumstance being that despite him and his mate having not truly accepted the bond, nor having truly struck up any kind of relationship, the bond has deemed it appropriate to reveal to him incredibly intimate and difficult scenarios of Elain’s life without her knowledge nor consent.

“Thanks,” was all he could mutter, though he truly felt he did not deserve her praise. A small silence settled over the two of them and when Lucien looked up again, Feyre was giving him a peculiar stare. She seemed almost…amused.

“What you were doing with Nesta, teasing her like that-”

“Sorry,” Lucien interrupted, “I understand I may have overstepped my bounds I-”

“No,” it was Feyre’s turn to interrupt, “No, that’s not it. I just meant to say that well, for a second there you seemed like the old you.”

Lucien cocked his head.

“The old me?”

“You know, the git who was horrible and snide to me for weeks on end even though he was High Fae, and I was an enslaved mortal,” Feyre was grinning as she spoke, her hands resting on her hips in a very motherly manner.

“Oh,” Lucien nodded, “That old me.”

“Is it her or being here?” Feyre asked outright and something in Lucien’s chest stumbled before he sighed, deep and long. Now that Nesta was gone, he could relax with Feyre. She was like Vassa or Jurian – as close as a friend as he had.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “She’s…I mean she’s…”

“Mhm,” Feyre grinned knowingly.

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes. Feyre burst out laughing, and when her laughter had rung out into the forest a slightly awkward silence stilted the conversation.

“It’s not…” Lucien grimaced, “It’s not perfect though. I felt her through the bond when she found out Graysen had gotten engaged. It wasn’t…she…”

Feyre shrugged as though this meant nothing.

“I suppose she’s entitled to respond a little poorly. But I understand what you mean. You have it difficult Lucien, don’t doubt that for a second. Most mates get a chance to fall in love before the bond even makes itself known.” Lucien frowned.

“No, it doesn’t. It’s common for mates to feel the bond upon first seeing one another-”

“Yeah, yeah, when I said most mates I was talking about myself and Nesta, you know, the only two examples of a mating bond that Elain knows?”

“Oh,” Lucien nodded.

“You know how it is for us, we used to be human. When you’re human falling in love isn’t something that has anything to do with fate and attitudes towards casual sex are, you know, only positive when you’re a man which – not important – what I’m trying to say is that for Elain, Graysen was a big deal. Falling in love was a big deal. Having someone choose to love her with their own Mother-gifted violation, was a big deal.”

“I know,” Lucien said softly, “I’m not trying to take that away from her. I just…as much as Elain had certain customs growing up, so did I. It’s not exactly usual for two mates to ignore a bond for two years. Rejecting? Yes. Ignoring…not so much.”

Feyre, to Lucien’s surprise, nodded.

“Like I said,” she began, “You two have it tough. I don’t think either of you are necessarily at fault. Elain hasn’t just been ignoring you these past two years, she’s been healing, finding herself. You’ve been incredibly patient but at the same time, you’re allowed to be upset at the way things have gone.”

“Right but-”

“Lucien, I love you, but everything you’re saying right now is exactly what you need to be saying to Elain,” Feyre half-laughed as she squeezed his hand.

“Right, right…” Lucien nodded, and Feyre finally let go of his hand. Though, the loss of her touch didn’t take away any of the weight of his discovery, that still hung over him like a black cloud. Feyre moved back a few paces before giving a quick shake of her body as two giant leathery wings protruded from her back.

“Rhysand says I need to keep using them,” she smiled at him, “Though I think once I get past Spring I might just cheat. Don’t tell him though.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lucien laughed, holding up his hands.

Lucien watched as Feyre prepped herself for take-off, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

“Feyre wait!” He called, just before she took off.

“Yeah?” Lucien paused ever so slightly.

“I did the right thing, telling you, about what I saw?” Feyre cocked her head and seemed to genuinely consider his question.

“I don’t know,” Feyre answered honestly, and something inside Lucien shuddered. “These kinds of things are sensitive, and each individual reacts differently. I would bet that Elain doesn’t understand that what Graysen did was wrong, she certainly wouldn’t consider it as rape as in her eyes she technically said ‘yes’”

“But-” Lucien growled.

“Yeah, I know, don’t worry. It is rape. I know. But in her eyes she gave herself willingly and…” Feyre’s eyes became dazed, “Just think about what this will be like for her, to find out the one person she loved most in the whole world didn’t just turn into a bad guy when she turned fae but was a bad guy all along. Imagine finding out your first love had raped you and you’d never even realised.”

Lucien shuddered and for a terrifying moment, he wondered if he might cry. With Ianthe he’d known. Every step of the way he’d known, and he genuinely didn’t know if it was better or worse to be ignorant. If he could be oblivious to what had happened in that cave, would he choose to be?

Elain’s choice had somehow fallen into his lap and in some way, this meant she had no choice at all. To tell her nothing would be making a choice, as would be telling her what Graysen had done. It wasn’t fair, for either of them.

“You better get going,” Lucien said after a moment with a quick glance to the sun placement, “Rhysand might think I’ve kidnapped you again.”

Feyre tipped her head back and let out a joyous laugh that filled the forest with magic.

“Oh Lucien,” she clutched her ribs, “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, and…” she suddenly looked nervous.

“What?”

“Promise me you and I will still be friends, no matter what happens with Elain, promise me you’ll stay.”

Feyre was looking at him with so much shy hope that Lucien couldn’t help but nod without even considering her question. Without another word Feyre took off into the skies, steering away from Lockhart Manor as to not accidentally cross Elain’s line of vision.

Lucien watched her go with a heavy heart.

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#elucien #fffaf #elucien fic #elucien fluff #elucien fanfiction #elain #elain archeron #elain x lucien #elain archeron x lucien #pro elucien #pro elain #pro lucien #lucien vanserra #lucien x elain #elain/lucien #lucien/elain

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julemmaes · 4 years

Text

Little Bird - October 7th

Elain Archeron x Lucien Vanserra

A/N: This was requested by @queenamydien on Ao3, “Just elucien as a couple and mated or on their way to becoming mates. I am so looking forward to this multifandom.”

I KNOW I’M SUPER DUPER LATE, but I’m kinda not home all the time cause I’m at my granpas’ house and I’m trying to spend most of my time with them, so yeah. I’m trying to do my best here and even if I’m not writing as much as I usually do, I hope you like these little thingies I give you.

Also, NOT ME WRITING NESSIAN INSTEAD OF NESTA EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

Word Count: 1,339

Elain took off her gloves sighing, admiring with a satisfied smile the work of months of gardening. A sudden movement caught her attention and her head snapped to the right, where she saw three butterflies fluttering together and resting on her lilies. Her expression softened and her smile wavered. She missed her sisters so much.

It had been four years since the war against Hybern, Feyre was doing a great job working alongside the High Lord of the Night Court and Nesta had found her place in one of the Illyrian camps with her new family and was helping to teach those few still alive who had magic to control it. Cassian spent all of his time with her when he was not out on a mission for Rhysand and the last time Elain received a letter from Nesta, she told her that she was to expect a visit soon. It must have been great news if her sister wasn't willing to write it on paper.

Elain, on the other hand, lived with Lucien on neutral ground between the Fae and human lands, in a court without high lords and without concerns. Jurian, Vassa and her mate were the closest figures to this position, but no one tried to outclass the others. Elain had immediately established that she should not be considered one of the leaders, despite her standing next to Lucien. It wasn't fair to those who expected to be led by someone capable and she just didn't care to take up a role where you had to argue with people twenty-four hours a day.

This obviously didn't mean that she didn't help her husband when he needed it. She tried to give him as much support as she could and give him as much advice as she thought right, but she never pushed him to make one decision rather than another in important matters.

She entered the estate, stirring her shoulders to relieve some of the tension that had accumulated during the day. For however relaxing it might be for the mind, Elain had to admit it, gardening destroyed her back.

She was removing dirt from under her fingernails when she turned right in the direction of her room and bumped into someone. She opened her eyes wide, flapping her arms so as not to fall butt down on the ground.

A crimson head that she would recognize everywhere moved frantically in front of her and then two strong hands tightened around her arms, pulling her towards and making her regain her balance.

She placed her hands on Lucien's chest instinctively and they shook when he snickered, pushing her to look at his face. A lopsided smile made its way over his lips, which turned into a real smile when he bent over her, placing a light kiss on Elain's mouth.

His hands moved and landed on her hips, pressing her flat against his chest.

When they broke off Lucien burst out laughing, placing his hand on her cheek. Elain frowned, "What is it?"

Lucien was looking over her, a hint of joy in his voice even after he stopped laughing, "What happened to your hair?" he asked her, reaching towards her head. Elain moved slightly, carrying both hands where his own were. Lucien patted her wrists, "Hold still, I'll just... fix it for you." he murmured, closing in again.

He was so near, that she had her eyes at the height of his throat and could see how his Adam's apple moving every time he swallowed. He must have been training, because there was a strong smell of sweat and his breath seemed rather wheezy. Elain had always liked the golden tone that his skin took on every time he exercised, covering himself with tiny droplets of sweat.

Elain complained when Lucien accidentally pulled a lock of her hair and pinched his side, telling him to do it more gently.

"Sorry love," he said chuckling, taking two steps back to admire his work. He tilted his head to the side, with a thoughtful expression, then smiled widely, looking her in the eyes, "How did you manage to tangle them so much?"

Elain motioned to their rooms and he offered his arm for support. She accepted it gladly, clutching onto him and then they began to walk down the long corridor overlooking the garden. Lucien was gazing out, but Elain knew that the second she opened her mouth, all his attention would be on her.

"I was pruning those small trees that the last visitors brought us, they are called bonsai trees, and a little bird landed on my head," she explained, with wide open eyes.

Lucien cackled, looking affectionately at her, "A little bird didn't land on your head, it legit nested there."

Elain shoved him gently, "I had to shoo him away three times," she said almost regrettedly, "I put him on the oak tree."

"I saw that it's growing very fast." he pointed out to her, nodding and casting a glance at the still small tree planted in the back of their garden. "It will be huge in a couple of centuries."

Elain stiffened to those words.

Her immortality was still a delicate subject. She had accepted almost every aspect of becoming Fae, but she couldn't stop worrying every time a member of her family went on a mission to some hostile environment and risked not returning. The idea of having to spend the rest of eternity without them frightened Elain to the point of keeping her awake at night.

Lucien noticed and held his breath, "Think of when our children will play on the branches and bounce on the swings we'll put there." he whispered to her, trying to make her change her train of thought.

They stopped right in front of the door of their room and Lucien held her face in his hands. Elain closed her eyes to the touch, basking in that familiar and long-awaited warmth. She opened them again and looked him in the eyes, carrying a hand to his cheek and drawing the line of the scar with one finger.

Lately she had thought about expanding their family very often. Jurian and Vassa were company enough and all the passers-by they hosted, with the dozens of families living in their own territory, they never lacked the presence of other people, but this feeling, this desire... they were different.

The fact of wanting to create a new life with the man she loved - even the thought alone was enough to excite her.

Lucien smiled at her as he licked his lower lip and she stood on her toes the exact moment he bent down to kiss her. Their noses smashed together and they laughed, lips rubbing against lips.

The amusement was short-lived, however, when Lucien's hands slid down and held her hips, going even further south. He pushed her forward, over him, and Elain drew a deep breath, taking so much air that she rubbed her breasts against his chest, when she felt Lucien's hard length against her stomach.

He lowered himself even more, wrapping her rear in his hands and kissing her ear shell, "You always forget that I can feel everything through the bond, my sweet and dear Lainy." one of his hands went up her back, drawing imaginary lines on her spine.

Elain shuddered, carrying a hand between the two of them and placing it on the crotch of his pants. Lucien caught his breath abruptly and bit her ear slightly, making her moan.

"Why are we still out here then?" she asked innocently, pushing him away enough so that she could look him in the face.

His eyes darkened and he lifted her off the floor in a swift motion before opening the door to their room and taking her into the bathroom they shared, taking her against the shower wall over and over again until the only word Elain could pronounce was his name, as she fractured for the fifth time around him.

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imlisaok · 7 years

Text

Elucien Meta: ‘Light’

PART 1

“The suite was filled with sunlight.

Every curtain shoved back as far as it could go, to let in as much sun as possible.

As if any darkness was abhorrent. As if to chase it away.” pg 154

Helion = High Lord of the Day Court = Lucien = light. That’s all I’m saying, haha.

To me, this is not-so-subtle foreshadowing, of the same likes as Cassian’s “he was made from fire and wind” that hinted Nessian were mates.

“And seated in a small chair before the sunniest of the windows, her back to us, was Elain.” pg 154

Again, this seems too good to be a coincidence.

“My breath caught as I edged around her chair. Beheld the city view she stared so blankly at.” pg 155

Note how many times she stares blankly, how many times her eyes are “vacant” and glazed as she speaks with others, aside from one particular individual, in this book.

“She didn’t so much as look at me as I said softly, “Elain?” pg 155

For a quarter of the book, Elain can’t hold people’s gaze. Except for Lucien (And Feyre, only once).

“Elain had always been gentle and sweet---and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had always been so full of light.” pg 156

*cough*

“Perhaps that was why she now kept all the curtains open. To fill the void that existed where all of that light had once been.

And now nothing remained.” pg 156

Ironically, both of their names mean the exact same thing:

“The name Elaine is a French baby name. In French, the meaning of the name Elaine is: Shining light.”

“Elaine as a girls' name is pronounced ee-LAYNE. It is of Greek origin, and the meaning of Elaine is "sun ray".”

The name Elaine is a girl baby name. In Greek, the meaning of the name Elaine is: the bright one.”

Elain is often viewed as the gentle and delicate sister---comparable to a flower. Flowers need light to sustain themselves. If they’re deprived of light (or anything necessary to their survival), they cripple and gradually die.

“My stiff, limping steps, at least, had eased into a smoother gait by the time I found Elain in the family library.

Still staring at the window, but she was out of her room.” pg 245

Stare count: 2

“Elain’s eyes at last slid to mine. The first time she’d done so.

Even wasted away by grief and despair, Elain’s beauty was remarkable. Hers was face that could bring kings to their knees. And yet there was no joy in it. No light. No life.” pg 246

In my opinion, these examples prove that Elain needs light. Sure, Elain and Az’s friendship definitely helped her recovery from some of the hardships she experienced, but ultimately, she needs some brightness.

As someone has stated before, it appears Lucien and Elain were also both attracted to the library!

“Elain only turned toward the sunny windows again, the light dancing in her hair.” pg 246

More light. Stare count: 3

“There’s a plate of biscuits. Would you like one?”

He didn't expect her to answer, and he gave himself all of one more minute before he’d rise from his chair and leave, hopefully avoiding Nesta’s return.

But sunlight on gold caught his eye---and Elain slowly turned from her vigil at the window.” pg 250

Lucien had seen the way she’d interacted with Feyre prior to the library scene, and thought Elain would react to him the same way.

(“But Lucien was standing in the doorway.

And from the devastation on his face, I knew he’d heard ever word. Seen and heard and felt the hollowness and despair radiating from her.” pg 156)

Can I also say radiate is an interesting word to use in this context, considering its definition:

RADIATE

emit (energy, especially light or heat) in the form of rays or waves

Anyway, Lucien saw the sunlight on her hair, and she turned to face him, folks. Something she likely didn’t even offer Nesta, and had only done to Feyre once. This man is technically a stranger to her, and this is their first actual conversation/interaction since Hybern, yet she did something she’d barely done for her sisters.

“Looking at her now. . .

She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features.

But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully.

(...)

Her eyes were the brown of a fawn’s coat. And he could have sworn something sparked in them as she met his gaze.” pg 250

First of all, the vacancy and glazed eyes thing I had mentioned before has finally decided to appear!

Second of all, Elain faced Lucien fully. Elain’s eyes had only slid to Feyre’s, meanwhile she turned towards Lucien completely.

Lucien is the only one who ignites this sparkle in her eyes. And the only one who ignites any emotion, for that matter.

“For a long moment, Elain’s face did not shift, but those eyes seemed to focus a bit more.”

No one has yet to evoke such a reaction out of Elain.

“You betrayed us.”

He wished she’d shoved him out of the window behind her. “It--it was a mistake.”

Her eyes went frank and cold. “I was to be married in a few days.” pg 251

An emotion!

“She looked away---toward the window. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly.” pg 252

She never turns away. She looks away, yes, but she remains facing him. Interesting.

“When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?” pg 252

Not sure if this qualifies as staring, but here ya go: Stare Count: 4

“I flashed Nesta a glare, but Lucien rose. “I came for a book.”

“Well, find one and leave.”

Elain only stared out the window, unaware---or uncaring.” pg 252

When Lucien is ordered to leave by Nesta, Elain returns back to her shell. Uncaring, unaware.

“Thirty minutes later, Azriel carried Elain down, my sister silent and unresponsive in his arms.” pg 253

Not surprised Elain did not react to Azriel, but can we see the difference here? Lucien is undoubtedly a stranger, and she’s clearly more responsive to him than her own sisters, and those in the Inner Circle, who she had likely seen when Feyre was at the Spring Court.

Remember when Nesta said this:

“She (Elain) will not leave her room. She will not stop crying. She will not eat, or sleep, or drink.” pg 153

Isn’t interesting that ever since Lucien arrived, she has been able to both eat (technically drank broth, but I consider it eating) and sleep?

“No. I managed to get her to drink some broth last night. She refused anything else. She’s been talking in those half-riddles all day.” pg 247

Now sleep:

“And I knew she (Nesta) heard as I listened at Elain’s door, knocked once, and poked my head in to find her asleep---breathing.” pg 289

“After a long minute, Madja asked us to join her in fetching Elain a cup of tea---with a pointed glance to the door. We both took the invitation and left our sister in her sunlit room.” pg 296

Always sunny in Elain’s room.

“Pretending, while Lucien and Elain sat in stilted silence by the dim fireplace, an untouched tea service between them.” pg 299

Nothing too special about this phrase. Just that they were making their way to each other on the bridge that is their mating bond. Cuties.

“Elain had picked up the teacup, and now sipped from it without so much as looking at him.” pg 299

I don’t think it’s a big deal she did not glance at him here, considering she let him make his way towards her in their minds. I would assume it’s difficult to be vulnerable like that in front of someone you don’t know very well. Understandable!

“Amren hissed from the other room, “Focus.” The dining table rattled.

The sound seemed to startle Elain, who swiftly set down her teacup. She rose to her feet, and Lucien shot to his.”

″I’m sorry,” he blurted.

“What---what was that?”

(...)

“It---it was a tug. On the bond.”

(...)

Then Nesta was standing in the threshold. “What did you do.” The words were sharp as a blade.

Lucien looked to her, then over to me. A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Nothing,” he said, and again faced his mate. “I’m sorry---if that unsettled you.”

Elain sidled toward Nesta, who seemed to be at a near-simmer. “It felt. . . strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to my rib.”

Lucien exposed his palms to her. “I’m sorry.”

Elain only stared at him a long moment. And any lucidity faded away as she shook her head, blinking twice, and said to Nesta, “Twin ravens are coming, one white and one black.”pg 301

All I know is way more occurred than just ‘nothing’. A muscle in his jaw basically twitched when asked what he ‘did’ (and he even looked to both Nesta and Feyre beforehand... which is weird since only Nesta had asked him the question? Maybe I’m looking too far into this, haha) , as though he was scared they’d misunderstand what he’d seen/felt/heard.

And as for Elain losing all of her lucidity, it was due to an oncoming vision of the ravens. It appeared as though she tried to fight it by shaking her head. The two blinks seems to be a telltale sign of a vision. Example:

“Nesta’s nostrils flared, but Elain peered up at Cassian, blinking twice. “He snapped your wings, broke your bones.” pg 315

Just saying!

“What can I get you, Elain?”

Only with Elain did she use that voice.

But Elain only shook her head once more. “Sunshine.” pg 302

Hello sunshine, my old friend...

“Nesta cut me a furious stare before guiding our sister down the hall---to the sunny garden in the back.” pg 302

Everywhere Elain goes must be sunny, apparently. ;)

Okay, this was absolutely crazy long. I decided to shorten it into two parts. I’m tagging most meta peeps and those who still (hopefully?) believe in Elucien.

@propshophannah @sparkleywonderful @valamerys @my-name-is-fireheart @abookandacoffee @squaddreamcourt @illyrianazriel

If anyone has extra thoughts they’d like to add, or if I made any mistakes, feel free to speak out about it!

#elucien meta #my meta #meta #elain meta #Lucien meta #mm #acowar meta

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