#lucien was enamored with her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starsxblazing · 8 months

Note

Im sitting in the dentist office and my brain just thought of an azriel x reader fic / alternate universe where he and Elain have a baby or child and reader is the nanny. Its azriels pov mostly as he falls for reader while elain is still debating about lucien. And reader well shes totally oblivious of azriels attraction towards her.

Oblivious Attraction

You sat in front of your vanity while debating on how exactly you should present yourself. It felt as if the bar was set far too high for you to reach but you never turned down a challenge. There were so many different options but decided on a business casual outfit. You decided on a cobalt blue collared shirt paired black slacks and slip ons. As you began your work to form the loose curls, you ran through every possible word or conversation.

Your resume with great references made you a top choice for employment. Children were your passion and being a nanny was a perfect job for you. The hours were long but it never mattered to you even though it left hardly no time for a social life. That wasn’t a big issue either in your opinion because you felt fulfilled in life.

The drive through the nice neighborhood had you enamored with the beautiful homes with matching or complimentary to the others. It was nicer than you had originally thought and it made it a bit intimidating.

You took a deep breath as you parked your car, muttering prayers to whatever force was above to be on your side.

Azriel watched as Elain flitted around the kitchen to get the remnants of breakfast cleaned up before leaving. An interview with yet another possible nanny would be happening within the next ten minutes and he was ready to get it over with. All three candidates had great resumes as they required but the first two hadn’t felt right in their opinion

It was important to the both of them to have the perfect person to care for their daughter while they worked so having someone that they felt that they could trust was imperative. His work hours were long and whereas the mother of his child’s was shorter, she usually spent her time elsewhere when she got off. It grated a nerve that the female was absent from the home so often but he had stopped complaining.

What was supposed to be a one night stand had turned into weekly occurrences that ended up with her pregnant. For that simple fact alone, he had moved her into his home in hopes that something more would form other than physical attraction. It hadn’t gone as he had hoped but they comfortably coexisted for the sake of their two year old.

He knew that her attention was torn between him and another male, a fact that he had only learned by accidental chance. Even though it hurt a piece of his heart, he always felt as if he couldn’t fault her for it. She deserved more, especially when he wasn’t able to give her the time and effort that she obviously needed.

A knock on the door had him pushing the thought of Elain and Lucien out of his mind, feeling hopeful that their last contestant would be the one. They truly did need the help and time was of the essence. He was shocked when he opened the door, the beauty of you taking his breath away. Their last two prospects had been older but he wasn’t expecting a beautiful female around his age to be standing on his threshold.

“Oh, you’re early!” Elain exclaimed happily with Sophie following close behind. “Hello!”

Azriel glanced at the clock and you were five minutes early. Confidence emitted from every fiber of you, especially when Sophie looked up at you with a smile. His own hope began to cement when the girl’s smile was returned with a gentle one that set the room at ease.

Elain guided you to the couch in the living room where they held their previous interviews. His daughter climbed up beside you, talking the best that she could at her young age. It was something that Sophie hadn’t done with the previous two so Elain and himself waited patiently while watching you engage with her.

“We’re so glad to have you here,” Elain started with a smile. “She seems to like you already.”

“She’s a delight,” you laughed, gazing at the girl momentarily with a tender smile on your face.

“Your resume is impeccable.” He gauged your reaction but your confident expression as you held his gaze and found nothing negative about you. “It is rare to find someone so young with extensive experience and references.”

“I’ve always loved children.” Your voice didn’t shake and you didn’t cower under both of their watchful gazes. “I started babysitting at sixteen and I found my first job as a nanny at eighteen once I graduated.”

“You have extensive education.” Elain scanned through the classes that you had completed in college. “Early childhood education, special needs education, First Aid and CPR certifications, and multiple language classes. You were also in the top five of all of them.”

“All of said classes coincide with your first nanny job.”

He had memorized your entire career timeline that also paired with your education. You still didn’t shrink from the question and he noted the hint of pride in your eyes. If what he was assuming was true, you had every right to feel that way about yourself.

“With my first official nanny job, I took classes online and then night classes for the ones that required me to be physically present.”

“Did that affect your job?” Elain countered, a small frown pulling at her lips.

“Not at all.” You shook your head as if in disbelief that you would be questioned about it. “I loved the two children that I was caring for and it was completely my pleasure to have every moment with them.”

Your answer was so genuine that he knew that calling the parents wouldn’t be needed. He also didn’t need to question your love and passion. Not when his daughter placed herself in your lap in contentment. The air around them was so light and it was a feeling that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Do you have any concerns with the cameras within our home?” He watched your reaction carefully to see how you would react. “Some have had concerns about them.”

“Why would I be bothered by that?” you asked, your brows furrowing. “I don’t see why it would ever be a problem for a parent to not be concerned enough about their child’s welfare to check in when a stranger is keeping them.”

To him, that was answer enough for him. Even as Elain continued to ask you questions, he kept his eyes on you with a hint of adoration filling him at the sight of you and his daughter.

Once the interview was over, you spent the rest of the day bonding with Sophie. Elain had left shortly after the interview had wrapped up and you were left alone with Azriel. You knew that he was watching you carefully and you didn’t mind because you would have done the same thing.

“We never did go over all of the requirements for my job,” you started as you sat beside him at the table while Sophie ate her lunch. “I want to be sure that everyone is happy with the work that I do.”

“Well, she will be starting school soon so it would be beneficial to be sure that she is on track with the other children,” he replied thoughtfully. “Along with housework and errands that we are unable to do ourselves when needed.”

“That’s more than reasonable but with the agreed upon salary, I was expecting more,” you mused, more to yourself than him.

“Believe me when I say that with Sophie alone, you will have your hands full,” he chuckled, his hazel eyes shining with amusement.

“I wholeheartedly look forward to it.”

You grinned at him and he only gave a small smile in return. The day was relatively simple and you were relieved that he didn’t constantly hover. He would come into his daughter’s room every so often to see how the both of you were getting along and seemed content.

By the time that you got home, you were exhausted enough that you didn’t bother with anything other than falling into bed.

Azriel had taken the previous day off of work simply to see how you were with his daughter. He was confident that they made the right decision and his daughter listened to you better than she did her own parents most of the time. You appeared a bit hesitant to leave when it was Sophie’s bedtime but left without a fuss.

Two hours had passed after his daughter had been in bed when Elain finally came home. A hint of cologne was on her but he said nothing as usual. He wished that she would make up her mind if she wanted to truly be with him instead of them being in this inbetween state in their relationship. The fact that the mother of his child was still entertaining her ex had once been somewhat of a sore spot that was now numb.

A month passed without any issues with you and Sophie was so smitten to the point that she hardly asked about why her mother always got home so late. He was always so exhausted when he came home but you never failed to have a hot meal waiting for him. It was something that he had never had and your eyes lit up every time that he thanked you. A spot in him warmed every single time that he saw that beautiful smile on your face just as it did seeing you interact with his daughter.

The slow feeling of longing began to form around that time and he got off of work as early as possible whenever he could just to be around you more. You always greeted him warmly in a way that he hadn’t felt from Elain since the first month of their ‘relationship’, leaving him craving more and more each day.

He stopped caring about what hour that Elain came home, enjoying your company more than he ever had hers. Small touches were exchanged every so often, a small brush of his arm against yours in passing or a gentle brush of his fingers over yours. No matter the subtle signs that he tried to give, you seemed completely oblivious.

“How was your day?” you asked as the three of you ate the food that you had prepared that afternoon.

“A bit stressful as usual,” he admitted, adoring the small frown that formed due to the fact that you cared about his well being. “But overall, it went well.”

“I much prefer dealing with children,” you laughed, glancing at Sophie who was focused on eating. “Corporate jobs just don’t sound appealing.”

“They aren’t,” he agreed before nodding to his daughter “It gives her the life that she deserves.”

You hummed in agreement, the sound running through him and causing a small smile on his face that you missed.

You were content with your job and utterly happy that you could do what you loved. Azriel was great company but a spot in you hurt for him when you noticed that he wasn’t used to having food already made for him. You rarely saw Elain and you wondered if she had taken longer hours with her job. The weekends were the only time that all three of you had any time off so you assumed that the mother made up for it then.

It didn’t help though that you were bored during those two days. You were so used to getting up early and arriving at their home at six each morning. By the time that you had spent six months with them, you were still with Azriel and was present to put Sophie to bed yourself while her father caught up on extra work. You couldn’t lie that you loved it because the girl was the best child that you had ever had the pleasure of working with.

“Running late this morning?” she asked Azriel when he opened the door on a Friday morning.

“Just a bit,” he admitted, his voice still laced with sleep while Sophie was crying upstairs.

“Go ahead and get ready.”

You didn’t wait for a response before running towards the girl’s room.

Azriel had stayed up longer than he usually did the night before and he barely had time to throw on his business suit, the tie tied haphazardly around his neck. It had taken his mind a moment to realize why there was a knock on his door so early in the morning. Through his sleep filled brain, the sight of you and then your worried expression over his appearance sent his heart racing. Love was beginning to bloom within him for you but he was never sure if he should express it.

He did as you told him to do and by the time that he was fully ready, Elain was gone to her own job and you had Sophie at the table eating breakfast. It always amazed him how easily you were able to calm his daughter even though Elain and himself always had trouble doing so.

“Do you have time for me to finish making you a proper breakfast?” you asked, looking him up and down.

“No.” He did the same to you, enjoying the sight that was you before him. “I appreciate the offer.”

“Is that everything that I need to accomplish today?”

You pointed to the list that Elain had made the night before. He nodded, feeling somewhat bad that you had more to do than usual today all while doing so with a now three year old in tow. You simply nodded with a smile and he had to force himself to leave his home.

His stormy Friday workday felt as if it dragged by longer than usual. He usually watched the cameras in the home every so often just so he could see you but you were out running errands.. Not only was the normal hours of his work day long but so was the later hours that he had no choice but to stay late.

By the time that he rushed home, he found you asleep on the couch with Sophie curled up contently on your chest. It was a beautiful sight to behold and he didn’t have the heart to disturb either of you. His daughter loved you just as much as he was beginning to. He took a deep breath when his heart began to race when he gently pushed a piece of hair out of your face.

It was yet another form of the gentle touches that were exchanged between the both of you but a part of his heart hurt whenever you began to address him as a friend. He wanted so much more than that but knew that it would be inappropriate. It didn’t stop his longing but he didn’t have the opportunity to ponder long before the front door opened again.

Elain was home early for a change and the close of the door had you shooting up in a panic. Your eyes were wide as you held a still sleeping Sophie to your chest protectively. He didn’t think you had any means of protecting his daughter and yourself but it was admirable either way.

“I am so, so sor-”

“It’s alright.” He gave you a small smile even though your eyes darted between the both of them. “You have had a long day.”

“I still didn’t-”

“It really is okay,” Elain assured, picking Sophie up gently to take her to bed. “Go home and get some rest.”

You nodded and stood on slightly shaky legs before giving him an apologetic smile. He escorted you to the door as he always did and his heart picked up his pace whenever you held his eye contact. The way that you looked at him had him hopeful but he walked to the window to be sure that you got out of his line of sight safely.

He frowned when your headlights came on but instantly went out again and the sound of your car starting didn’t reach his ears. You sat in your car for five minutes in the hard downpour before you finally raced back to his front door where he was waiting for you.

“Car trouble?

“It won’t start,” you whined quietly. “I don’t know anything about cars.”

“Would you like a ride home?”

Surprise filled your face for a moment before you nodded shyly. He had to use all of his willpower to stop the laugh that wanted to leave him and used the excuse of retrieving his keys to doing so. By the time you were sitting in his passenger seat, you were both completely soaked and a pout was on your face.

“Does a little bit of rain bother you?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“Sugar melts in the rain,” you quipped and this time he wasn’t able to stop his laugh.

During the ride home, you told him about the busy day that you had while he listened intently. Mental images filled his mind with each story, the ones of you taking his daughter for ice cream being his favorite. Both of your arms were touching on the armrest and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hand around yours. It was a strong testament to his willpower to not do so.

When he pulled up to the home that was smaller than he had imagined, you made no move to instantly jump out. He knew that you enjoyed being around him but he also knew that you were oblivious to how he felt.

“It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up,” you muttered while leaning up to look out of the windshield.

“According to the report, it’s supposed to be that way for the rest of the night.”

“Well at least I can immediately jump into the shower.”

He chuckled but when you looked at him, he realized that he had moved closer to you out of what felt like instinct. You didn’t break his gaze, even when his eyes darted to your mouth and then back to your eyes. His breath caught in his throat when there were mere inches between your mouths. Once you realized what was happening, you pulled back and jumped out of his vehicle without so much as a goodbye.

It was then that he realized that he was completely and utterly fucked.

Tag List:

@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain @nighttimemoonlover

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar

294 notes · View notes

wayhaughtn7 · 2 months

Text

I have never been enamored by Essek the way a lot of fans are, I simply couldn’t look past all the pain and death he caused by betraying the dynasty and giving the Beacon to the Assembly. Even when he helped defeat Lucien it wasn’t enough to counteract that for me. But damnit if he didn’t just win me over in one conversation by showing probably the most compassion and empathy Laudna has ever received. I know Imogen loves Laudna but I don’t think Imogen really understands how responsible for Delilah’s actions Laudna feels especially when it hurts her friends. Essek, and also Caleb, are probably the best people to help Laudna deal with the guilt she’s going to have about Delilah if Essek manages to bind Delilah in a way that makes her Laudna’s puppet.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #laudna #essek thelyss #imogen temult #caleb widogast

86 notes · View notes

lovemyromance · 7 months

Text

Things I would love to see in the next ACOTAR book:

The sisters mending their relationship

Rhys & Elain’s friendship

Elain, Nuala & Cerriweden friendship

Elain exploring her Seer powers

Elain the Spy (not torture and interrogate spy, like charming circles in ballrooms, the woman you’d least suspect)

“You came for me.” - Azriel

Elain proving she’s got a backbone of steel

Sweet Elriel garden moments

Amren & Az helping Elain train her powers

Elain & Lucien friendship

Vassien crumbs! A “be happy, Lucien” from Elain would be chef’s kiss 🤌🏼🤌🏼

Dusk Court?

Truthteller + Elain

People being so shocked when Elain shows her power / snaps

Sweet, sweet desperate elriel pining

Az snapping and having a “I burn for you” bridgerton moment 😭😭 “I cannot stay away”

Elain’s charm and beauty bringing people to their knees 🤩🤩

Elain saving the day, once again, as the person you’d least expect it from

Elriel baking/gardening moments

Elriel choosing each other

Elriel as Carranam?

Elriel marriage ceremony

Hand kisses

Dancing in the garden, under the cover of the night

Kissing in the rain

“Sssh, they’ll hear you, sweetheart.”

Bossy Elain

Elain meeting Azriel’s mom in Rosehall, and his mom being immediately enamored with our flower girl

Playing footsie under the dining table

Sly touching and brushing of their fingers

Drama, angst, desperation!!

I love them sm, I really hope their book delivers and satisfies this obsession 😭😭 After ACOSF, I want a LOVE story so badly. I want that Elriel all-consuming love!

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #pro elain #acotar #elain

233 notes · View notes

writtenonreceipts · 2 months

Text

Elucien Week Masterlist // AO3 Link // Part 2

Day Four: High Society @elucienweekofficial

Summary: A Regency AU. When her family faces the backlash of questionable business choices, Elain Archeron finds herself betrothed to Lucien Vanserra, seventh son of the duke. A past of brief interactions taught Elain that there was no good to come from the man, but she soon learns there is more to the young lord than she could have ever known. Two Parts.

a/n: I shared a small section of this story last year during Elucien week as well, so if it looks familiar, that is why! Planning on two parts. And guess what??? Part two is mostly written (and by mostly i mean 3k words and it'll probs be 6-8k).

warnings: none for this part! ~8.3k words

.*.*.*.*.

When Our Fingers Touch, I Find My Way Back Home

When she thought of love, Elain did not picture her parents. They were cold, calculating, vindictive individuals who certainly deserved each other. They were so far from typical conventions of affection that tolerance was the word she associated them with.

Her parents had married when mother was fresh into her first season, seventeen and well connected. Truly, Margot St. Moore had been the diamond in her season and been used to capture the attention of Lord Elias Archeron. Elias of course was only interested in a wife who would continue to garner gossip and valuable information that he could use to further his political agenda.

When she thought of love, Elain did not picture the heroine of the latest book she was reading. It was dull, long winded, and focused only on the male perspective. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised by that fact considering it was Aunt Ripleigh who’d gifted it to her, but she’d had high hopes for it in any case.

And it wasn’t that Aunt Ripleigh wasn’t a capable woman herself. No. Aunt Ripleigh simply waited to be acted upon. She hardly ever sought her own will, her own wants, her own desires. It drove Elain insane especially when she’d been forced to spend an entire winter with the woman. She’d gotten very good at baking however, so that was alright she supposed.

Rather, when she thought of love, Elain looked to her sister. Which was hilarious when one thought about it because Nesta did not believe in love. At least she hadn’t. Until war hero and decorated officer Cassian Madura returned to the city and promptly swept Nesta off her feet.

The two were so different that Elain wondered how it was possible they’d come together. They’d certainly played many rounds of cat and mouse during their courtship. At one point Elain believed that Nesta had dismissed the man for good. She didn’t know the entire story behind their coupling, but Elain did know her sister and Nesta had never truly been happy until Cassian had come around.

The strange, free-falling nature of love had long fascinated Elain. She’d had her own fantasies and desires for what love would look like for her that she’d become quite enamored with the idea. Of course, she knew that love was hard to come by. Even if she was a woman and the second daughter, she’d understood she might need to make some sacrifices in her little world. But she’d long held on to the notion that she would be loved.

Until now.

“I’m sorry father,” she said, folding her napkin across her lap. She cleared her throat and leaned forward over the table. “I don’t think I heard what you said.”

Breakfast had never been an enjoyable affair. It was insufferable in the fact that they were all forced together at Mother’s insistence. Every meal was meant to be spent together, hilarious considering none of them liked the other. But Elain new better than to comment on that.

“Oh, Elain,” Mother sighed heavily, taking a long sip of her tea. “You know perfectly well what he said.”

Elain ignored her mother and stared at her father. He was doing a rather remarkable job at examining the single missive he’d received with breakfast. A missive that was minuscule, Elain knew.

The only other person in the room, aside from the staff, was Feyre who was twirling her fork in her fingers in a very undignified manner. Younger by a nearly two years, Feyre still had time before marriage became a priority. Even then, Margot and Elias Archeron were rather bored with being parents at this point that Feyre may never be forced to find a husband.

“You’re betrothed,” Father said flatly. “To one of the Vanserra boys. I spoke with his grace, Lord Vanserra just yesterday.”

Father finally tossed the missive to the side before cutting into the sausage on his plate.

“Which Vanserra boy was it?” Elain asked as calmly as she could. But her fingers were shaking, her whole body in fact. And there was a distinct rage building in her blood that she was certain would come pouring out at any given moment.

She had to pull herself together. Ladies did not dissolve into rage at a minor inconvenience. Ladies were calm, collected, and careful.

Mother sighed again and poured herself more tea. “Don’t be so difficult, Elain. You’ve been preparing for this your entire life. After your sister married that, that brute, you had to expect that you would bring our family some honor. Honestly.”

Elain met Feyre’s gaze. Her little sister merely shrugged. Wonderful.

“And I am happy to do so, mother,” Elain said, her smile felt tight and sharp. “I only wish to know who I’ll be spending the rest of my life with.”

She simply couldn’t believe that it would be a Vanserra she would marry. Oh, they were a well-respected family. They were rich, educated, dripping with all the prestige of the world. But there were rumors too. Rumors of cruelty and spite. Just last year two of the seven sons had been killed in a horrific robbery while abroad. Elain had heard from three different ladies that Beron, the family patriarch, had his own sons killed for no reason other than the boys were useless in business. There were also the rumors of cruelty. Lady Dierdre didn’t leave the Vanserra estate often for a reason.

Elain sipped her tea, trying to calm down.

She’d grown up with the Vanserra’s though. Had endured those boys like one endured an annoying fly that would not leave you alone. And she had a sickening feeling which brother her father assigned her to.

“Lucius, Leonardo, Liam.” Father waved a hand. “The one with the red hair.”

They all had red hair.

“Lucien,” Elain murmured. Really, there was no other option. The eldest was well into his thirties the next two married and the other still abroad. Dread weighed heavy in her stomach.

Father grunted and continued eating his sausage.

“Unfortunately,” Mother said, another sigh. “I would have preferred Eris. I tried arranging him and Nesta before she sullied herself—” a click of the tongue from Feyre “—and tried again for you. Unfortunately, he has a match now.”

Mother dropped sugar into her tea. “And even if that other one is the youngest and won’t inherit a title, you will still be a Vanserra.”

“Is Father’s business truly failing so much?” Feyre, finally breaking her silence, picked up a slice of strawberry with her bare fingers. “So much that you think a marriage alliance will fix it?”

“Hold your tongue, girl,” Father barked. “We always knew Elain would marry and maintain the household. When all our holdings go to her husband it will merely procure a legitimate union.”

Elain and Feyre exchanged another look.

“I will not tolerate your attitudes anymore,” Mother said. “The both of you. Petulant children. I raised you better than this, Elain. You are a lady. You will do as you’re told. And Feyre—you will sit properly at the table or go sit in the mires.”

Feyre slowly straightened her back.

Elain gave her mother a nod. “Of course, Mother. I forgot my place.”

And then she promptly kept her lips sealed for the rest of the meal.

…

It was when Elain was twelve that she met Lucien Vanserra for the first time.

She wasn’t supposed to be outside in the gardens, but she simply couldn’t resist. It was still early enough in spring that the new blooms were still budding, and leaves were unfurling that it all had an heir of magic to it. In just a few weeks this garden would be transformed from bare branches to insurmountable beauty. And she wanted to see every moment of that transition.

Even if it was still a bit cold. And yes, the clouds overhead were gray and fierce and looked ready to pounce. But it was no longer winter. She needn’t be contained anymore.

So, Elain wandered the gardens. She could identify most of the plants by their leaves alone. After kindly bullying the head gardener to teach her about his stewardship, Elain had come to more fully appreciate this small piece of the world.

As she rounded a corner of her favorite part of the garden, she saw a flash of red and a creature dashed out of the shrubbery. It paused in the middle of the path, staring at her. A fox. Sleek and lean with large russet eyes.

“Oh, aren’t you a surprise,” Elain said, because what else was there to say? “Having a look around?”

Its tail twitched and head listed to one side. And then a great shout echoed across the garden and the fox flitted off again.

Elain couldn’t help her cry of dismay when a boy, just a few years older than her, came charging through the garden. He was impeccably dressed for a boy his age with crisp linen and shiny boots. His fiery red hair hung over his face as he ran towards Elain.

“Where is it?” he asked with obvious desperation.

“I—what?” Elain stared at him, this strange boy with a pal-mal racquet in one hand and determination in his eyes.

“The fox! The blasted thing stole through the game and ruined my shot!”

Elain blinked. “You were startled by a fox?”

The boy scowled. “I didn’t say I was scared.”

“Then how did it ruin your shot?” she insisted.

“It ran out in front of me,” he replied.

“And you got distracted?”

“No!” The boy did not appreciate her at this moment, she could see that well enough.

“Then what’s the problem?” she asked.

“It’s a menace,” the boy said. He looked at her in earnest now. Elain could see how bright his eyes were, rich brown like the fox’s. His skin was a warm, rich color, darker than most in the -ton. “I want to catch it.”

Elain’s eyes widened. “What on earth for? You wouldn’t hurt it would you?”

The boy started. “Well, I suppose I don’t know. I didn’t think that far.”

“You’re very strange,” Elain told him.

“Well so are you,” he said.

It was Elain’s turn to scowl. How dare he! He didn’t know her from Adam.

“I am a respectable young lady and I would ask that you treat me as such,” she said, and then lifted her chin in the air for good measure.

“You’re covered in dirt,” the boy said. “Ladies don’t roll around in the dirt.”

Elain glanced down. It appeared he was right. She’d knelt beside the roses pulling weeds earlier. And then there was a mess of fallen branches in the hydrangeas. Not to mention lavender.

“A lady is allowed her hobbies, and her discretion,” she said, perfectly mimicking her tutors.

The boy cocked his head. “I don’t know. Still seems strange to me, you were talking to yourself too. Or is that another one of your discretions you're allowed?”

Was he mocking her? Elain couldn’t help her scowl, even with her mother’s inner monologue raging in her head.

“At least I’m not running about like a savage waving a stick,” she said.

“It’s fun, you should try it,” he replied, “but ladies aren’t meant to be savages.”

“No,” she said, “they’re not.”

And then, for whatever reason, he grinned at her. Something wild and bright and utterly different than what Elain ever saw on anyone. He then swept into a low bow.

“Lucien Vanserra,” he said, “seventh son to the duke.”

The Duke? Elain stared at him. Her father was a lord who managed funds and trades. This boy, Lucien, so clearly outranked her in social standing that Elain could hardly even think. Mother was going to be furious for being so forward and impolite to him.

“And you, my lady,” Lucien asked, his impish grin still in place. “Might I know of your name?”

If she didn’t tell him her name then he couldn’t tattle on her for being so uncivilized.

Elain clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. Not only would mother scold her, but she could also revoke Elain’s privileges relating to the garden, or baking. If either of those things happened, Elain had no idea what she would do. She would be forced to read. Or paint. Or cross-stitch.

“Elain!”

She started, terrified that her mother had found her out in the garden, dirty, talking to the duke's son of all things. Hand clutched to her chest, she spun around, searching for who was calling for her.

Walking quickly down the path towards her was Nesta. Barely a year older than her, Nesta was already so lovely. Her dress was perfectly pressed and arranged, and her body, perfect for dancing, moved with perfect elegance.

“Elain, what are you doing?” Nesta demanded as she drew closer.

While Nesta wouldn’t tell their mother about this little venture, she would try and mother hen Elain the rest of the day. Elain glanced at Lucien. As if he could help.

All he did was offer another bow. “Lady Elain.”

And then he was scampering off the way he came.

“Elain!” Nesta finally stepped up beside her and took her arm. “Who was that? What’s going on?”

“It was, I was,” she was at a loss for words. In all her life, Elain always had the words for every situation. “There was a fox.”

Nesta did not like that answer. She tugged at Elain’s arm, pulling her back to the manor.

“Come on, you have to change before mother sees you.”

There was no other choice than to follow.

…

The winter months were long and dreary. Compared to the bright vibrant warmth of spring and summer, winter was the bane of Elain’s existence. It was barely even Winter Solstice and Elain was ready to return to the comforts of the other seasons.

“Get that scowl off your face,” Mother snapped.

Elain blinked and looked in the mirror of her vanity. Her maid, Nuala, was carefully pinning her curls into an elegant twist while her mother paced the room behind. She wasn’t scowling, was she? She was merely staring off into nothing.

“You’re going to be the center of attention tonight at the ball and we cannot have your future husband see that on your face.” Mother picked invisible lint from her dress. “You are a lady who everyone will be looking to, tonight.”

Elain straightened her shoulders and relaxed her jaw. “Of course, Mother. I’m sorry. I just can’t help but imagine how tonight will go. With my betrothal to Lord Lucien there will be a number of expectations.”

“Expectations that you’ve been training for since you could walk,” Mother replied crisply. She came up behind Elain, nearly pushing Nuala out of the way. The lady's maid said nothing, knowing better than to try and address the woman. “It is nothing you cannot handle.”

The compliment was a rare gem that Elain would savor for just a moment. She told herself to relax, to breathe evenly. It would be a successful night of celebration and merriment. Even with the official engagement to Lord Lucien, there were still holiday celebrations. The dancing would be wonderful, the food divine, and the decorations. Elain had helped the head housekeeper in all the planning. Mother only accepted the notion when Elain reminded her it was how she would best prepare for her own house in just a few months’ time.

It would be a remarkable night, and her engagement to Lord Lucien would not sully it. She loved parties and gatherings and adored the excitement that came with all the various arrangements.

“All finished,” Nuala said. She pined one more curl into place. It was lovely with the twisting curls and gentle braids she’d created. She’d even pinned a small string of pearls to act like a crown.

“Thank-you Nuala.” Elain smiled at her maid. She’d long been a good confidant and wonderful friend despite their differences in station. “You’re dismissed, I’ll ring for you later tonight.”

Nuala curtsied before hurrying from the room. Just as she was leaving, another of the maids approached, rapping on the door.

“Excuse me, my ladies,” the maid said, curtsying just as Nuala had. “Lady Arch—er Madura has arrived.”

Elain perked immediately. “Do send her up Greer.”

“No,” Mother cut in. “We are already late. We’ll see her downstairs.”

They were ahead of schedule, but Elain knew better than to correct her mother. But she desperately wanted to speak with Nesta. The two got along as well as sisters could, but they still had their differences. And while Elain had her own thoughts and opinions about Nesta’s choice in life (not that she begrudged her sister’s choice in husband nor how she took hold of her life) there were simply things that she didn’t understand.

Things that she couldn’t talk to her mother about. And Feyre, well, Feyre was ice and snow. Hard to navigate, hard to approach. Sometimes, Elain would say that Feyre and Nesta were the most similar of the sisters, but she didn’t want to get her head eaten off.

“Now,” Mother said, drawing Elain from her thoughts. “Tonight is all about your betrothal to Lord Lucien. You must dance with him and you must speak with him. Civilly. None of this running around to your every whim and fancy. I will not have you become a gossip.”

“I have to attend to guests,” Elain insisted. She did not want to spend an entire night stuck to Lord Vanserra’s side. It was laughable. Ludicrous to expect her to do so. “I am in part hosting this event, Mother.”

“The only one hosting this night, is me. I am the lady of this household,” Mother said. Her voice was stoney and viciously cold. Elain hardly restrained her wince. “You cannot flirt with every man that walks through that door. Have some restraint, Elain.”

Elain dropped her gaze, demurely. “Yes, ma’am.”

There was no point in arguing with her. Not now. Soon, she would be gone from the manor. Gone from the constant nagging and finagling. Soon, she would have her own house to tend. Lord Vanserra would allow her that small mercy, wouldn’t he?

“You’re frowning again.” Mother rapped her on the shoulder and sighed. “And your hair. Why must you have so many curls? It really would be better if it lay flat.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And then Elain was left to follow her mother down to the main hall where the ball would occur.

Everything had been transformed to reflect a taste of winter. Blue and white ribbons combined with simple floral arrangements. The chandeliers had all been shined to perfection and candelabras burned through the hall. The carpets had been washed, banisters polished, and every surface that was supposed to gleam did so as if set upon by the sun.

Elain allowed herself a moment of admiration for the work the staff had done. But only a moment. Mother was already halfway across the hall and trailing behind like a little duckling would not make the night any easier.

Immediately, there were names to be learned, curtsies to be given, and greetings to be issued. Elain had been trained for this. Mother had taught her everything about being a good hostess and deferring to the man of the house. Mother had also taught her how to carefully gather information from everyone that passed through their doors.

And while Elain didn’t mind a bit of gossip, she didn’t necessarily enjoy the attention this sprung on her. If she were being honest, she wished she could have a single moment for herself. Just one where she could take everything in about the decorations of the house, the music, the food. Where she could simply breathe and not worry about whether she’d done well enough or worry about how others saw the way she ran the house.

She just wanted a moment.

“Elain,” Mother hissed beside her when they weren’t inundated with another round of guests.

She snapped to attention, realizing she was giving too much attention to a snag in Lady Charlotte’s gown. The poor dear was failing miserably at hiding her pregnancy.

Elain didn’t need to ask her mother what happened because she already knew. It only took a glance.

Entering their families' great hall were the Duke and Duchess. They were resplendent in their dress, the duke formal in a black coat and rich cream shirt, trousers, and cravat. His black hair was neatly styled and those dark brown eyes shrewdly examined everything in the hall. His wife, though, was by far the most beautiful woman Elain had seen. Her red hair was twisted into a fashionable chiffon and laden with sparkling gems that matched the green of her gown. With a willowy frame and bright, amber eyes, the Duchess was remarkable.

Following right behind them were two men that were impossible to mistake. Eris and Lucien Vanserra. They were both proud and arrogant as they stood in the doorway. So similar yet so different. Where Eris had paler skin, Lucien was darker, where Eris was sharp and cut cold as his father, Lucien retained the subtle softness of his mother.

Elain couldn’t help but stare. Truly, she tried to avert her gaze. To focus on Lady Viviane who looked resplendent in a gown of pale blue. To congratulate her on her pregnancy that she had no qualms of hiding unlike most ladies of the -ton.

But once her eyes snagged on Lucien, she could not look away. And when he caught her staring, Elain knew she was lost.

A smirk tugged on his lips and his brow rose in challenge. Elain lifted her chin and looked away. There was only so long she could get away with it. Only so long until her mother forced the hired string quartet to play something. Only so long until she was thrust into the arms of her betrothed. Like an animal.

…

She was seventeen when she realized that her life would never be her own.

She’d tried to ask her mother for permission to spend time in the kitchens with the cook so she could learn how to braid bread and roll out pie dough. At first, Elain foolishly thought her mother would give her permission. Until Mother tossed her head back and laughed.

“You are a lady, Elain. And you will be married the second you turn eighteen. There is no reason for you to sully yourself with that sort of thing.”

Elain was quickly learning that sully was mother’s new favorite word. Especially after Nesta had been seen dancing with Cassian Madura at the Berdara Ball just two nights ago. Mother had just never used it in reference to her before. Elain was always lovely and sweet and perfect.

And even if Elain didn’t like being called those things, didn’t like the way they made her feel so enclosed and trapped—she’d never thought her mother would be so blatant in her cold words and cruel actions.

Perhaps that was why Elain found herself wandering the large fields of the property that day. It was early spring and the rains had stopped for a small respite. She’d been desperate to get out of the house. To feel the fresh air and taste the sweet breeze that came with the fresh blooms of spring. Even if it was still chilly and the clouds overhead looked ready to burst at any moment.

Elain wasted no time as she practically ran across the sprawling lawn. It wasn’t long until she was far enough away from the manor that she could breathe a bit easier, that even her mother’s nagging voice disappeared.

She only came to a stop as she reached the small stream that served as a border between Archeron and Vanserra land. How they lived so close to the duke Elain had never learned and she was certain that the truth would not be comforting, so she put it out of her mind as best she could.

She wore one of her simpler dresses today which made it easier to walk and explore in. Not to mention it was a bit older too so if it got a little dirty, no one would care. Well, Nuala might give her a look, and Elain was fairly certain the maid was giving her mother reports on her actions.

That was something she could worry about later, Elain decided.

She carefully crept closer to the stream bed, the grass slick with the earlier rain. Elain had always had good luck finding different colored rocks. She loved the varying colors that could range from burgundy to pale blue. Even the dull grays were fascinating especially if they had a distinct stripe or marking that—

Her foot slipped and before Elain could even attempt to right herself, she went spiraling face first into the river.

There was no way to catch herself. She knew it the second she felt the shift of her stance. Elain let out a shriek as she fell. The cold watch sloshed around her and immediately seeped into her shoes, her dress. Gasping, Elain floundered in the water until she sat up. Soaked. Utterly soaked. And freezing.

The chill stole the air from her lungs and Elain could do nothing other than stare through the loose tendrils of her hair that had come free from her chignon.

“Lady Elain!”

She heard the voice but couldn’t focus on anything other than how cold she was. Her lungs wouldn’t cooperate either. All she could do was sit in that water and let it wash around her. It hadn’t been terribly deep, perhaps only halfway up her calves, but now it felt as though she’d been dragged hundreds of meters below the surface.

There was a loud splash from somewhere beside her and before Elain could register it, strong hands were dipping beneath her shoulders and legs and she was hauled against a broad, warm chest.

The arms that held her were firm and unyielding. Elain could do little more than cling to his front and bury her face against his shoulder as the shivers took control. She could make out a strong masculine scent of sunlight and pine, it was oddly comforting in a strange, subtle way.

When she was set down on solid ground, Elain’s knees buckled and she held on tighter to the arms around her.

“Easy,” a deep voice murmured in her ear. “Easy.”

Elain shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut. Oh she knew that voice. She knew exactly who it was that held her.

“Are you alright?” Lucien Vanserra’s low voice hummed in her ear. She wanted to push him away, to stand on her own, to—

Her knees buckled again and like some swooning heroine in a horrible broadsheet story—she clung tighter to the youngest Vanserra. Elain was still too shocked and chilled to be embarrassed by this miserable state. It didn’t help that Lucien exuded so much warmth.

“It seems I slipped,” she finally whispered. She kept her eyes closed, willing her skin to stop flushing. Maybe if she stayed still long enough, she’d just sink into the earth and vanish.

She felt the soft brush of his hand against her cheek, brushing a damp curl away.

“Indeed,” Lucien murmured. His hand moved to run down her arm, rubbing warmth back into her. “I saw you tumble. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Elain steeled herself before blinking her eyes open. His own eyes were trained on her—russet brown with golden undertones, the left eye laced with pale scars along tender skin. She took a slow breath. Ever since their brief meeting when they were children, Elain had only seen him from a distance. Nesta had whispered rumors that Beron Vanserra was not a good man and they shouldn’t engage with him or his family. Duke or no.

But here and now, amid the soggy weather and cool breeze that mixed with her wet skirts--Elain found herself unable to pull away from him.

“I’m fine,” she whispered even as a shiver wracked her body.

Lucien chuckled darkly. “Forgive me, but you look like a drowned rat, my lady.”

The haze of surprise dissipated and Elain found herself scowling. “Well then, I shall be on my way. I hate to be such an eyesore.”

She pulled away from that careful grasp he still held her in and nearly went slipping all over again. Lucien caught before Elain fell. His strong hands gripped her arms and his own sturdy build kept her grounded.

“Don’t go off in a huff,” he said.

Elain swatted his arms. She was able to keep her balance this time as she managed to put some distance between them.

“I should have remembered how rude you are,” she snapped amid her shivers.

Gathering her skirts in her hands, Elain stalked off in the direction of her family home. Lucien kept pace easily and before she could swat him again, he’d shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

Warmth immediately enveloped her and Elain had to clamp her mouth shut to hold back the satisfied sigh that wanted to escape.

“We wouldn’t want you catching a cold,” Lucien said when she finally looked at him.

She didn’t know how else to respond to that other than to continue walking while he remained dutifully by her side.

…

The ball was off to a remarkable beginning. Even if her mother had dragged her away from most of the inner workings of the planning--Elain noted with satisfaction that everything was still delightful.

The lights were perfect, the food continuous, and the small quartet in the corner extremely talented. All from her careful deliberations.

Elain allowed her pride to be stroked for just a moment before it was dashed away by a familiar form approaching her side. She couldn’t help the sharp inhale nor the way she shifted just so subtly toward him.

“Well, Lady Elain,” Lucien said, “we meet again.”

In the years since that regrettable day where she’d tumbled into the stream—Elain had done her best to avoid the youngest Vanserra. At first it was embarrassment. And then it turned to something else—something Elain didn’t know how to identify, only that when she simply thought about the young lord, her cheeks would heat and her heart thudded harder. Embarrassment. Anger. Both seemed like decent explanations so in the end she focused on the latter.

Anger mostly at him for being so arrogant. And teasing.

Ever since that day, Elain hadn’t known what to think or how to act toward him. Certainly he had acted the gentleman and delivered her back home safely. But he’d never called on her after, never passed a kind note, nor paid her any heed at dances or shared meals when they arose.

She, apparently, was utterly uninteresting.

“Indeed,” she said crisply. She clutched her glass of punch tightly between her fingers, fully expecting the delicate glass to shatter at any moment.

“And fully set to ignore me too?”

Elain glared at him, despite her keen desire not to even acknowledge him. She lifted her chin, though it did little in making up the difference in their heights. Lucien practically towered over her with a lean, but firm build. He’d certainly filled out in the years since he’d saved her from the stream. Heat flushed her skin and she looked away.

“No need to get shy on me now,” Lucien remarked, she caught the curve of a smile on his stupidly full lips. “We are betrothed after all.”

“How could I forget?” She set her drink down on the table she stood beside. She turned her full attention to him and gave him the full effect of her scowl. “It’s only been drilled into me ever since the announcement.”

“No need to be so upset.” He only grinned at her expression. “That hardly seems a way to enter a marriage. It should be far more fun than that.”

She couldn’t do this. Elain turned away, already looking for the best escape. If only Feyre was here. But Mother didn’t allow her to come to parties even if she were of age. Nesta and Cassian were all the way on the other side of the ballroom speaking with the young Miss Gwyneth Berdara and Miss Emerie Costa. It would be painfully obvious if she stalked straight across the hall for them leaving her betrothed standing there.

Well she could just leave the event all together. Her mother hadn’t said anything about how long she would need to stay after seeing her intended. She’d fulfilled her duty so she could now leave.

She saw her escape when the young general Jurian Renault and his wife Vassa Deveraux approached. Elain was aware that her betrothed and the general had met at school and nearly been expelled together after a rebellion of sorts involving frogs, explosions, and crotchety old men. She didn’t know much beyond that, but this would certainly be the perfect distraction.

As soon as Jurian called for Lucien, Elain swept away toward one of the back stairways that was hardly used by anyone—servants included.

She'd hardly made it out of the great hall before Lucien caught up to her. He didn't try to touch her, merely keeping just one step behind her.

“Lady Elain.” Lucien cut her off before she made it even a step up the stairs. “Is this how you plan to spend our marriage? Running from it?”

“Yes,” she said simply. She tried to dodge around him but he was too quick for her. Lucien stood firmly in front of her that even one stiff shove didn’t get him out of her way. Bastard. “If you would get out of my way.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” he replied. He grinned, his teeth flashing, and Elain scowled as she tried to push him again. Built like a wall, the man didn’t budge. “You and I have things to discuss.”

There was an earnestness in his words even if his face appeared cut from stone. Everything she’d heard about his father, his brothers, came rushing to the front of her mind and she had a hard time reconciling that cruelty.

“I am not a puppet for you to dress up and play with,” she told him. He let her pass him this time and she hurried up the stairs that would take her to her rooms. “Nor am I a wife you can brush aside without a second thought.”

“I never said you were,” Lucien said. His ridiculously long legs kept him in pace with her.

“Please,” Elain scoffed. She glared at him, mostly upset that she couldn’t storm away properly. It was a lady’s prerogative to have equal storming rights. “You’re getting a perfect little wife for your perfect little life. I know the kind of man you are, Lord.”

He waited until they rounded the third floor before grabbing her arm and swinging her around to face him. Elain couldn’t help the little peep of surprise that escaped her when suddenly she was staring at his chest. Steeling herself, Elain lifted her gaze and met his eyes. Beautiful and russet brown, his left eye scarred through the corner. It was, unfortunately, impossible to look away from him. Perhaps it was his broad features, the deep tones of his skin. Or even that subtle strength coiling within him.

There was something about Lucien Vanserra that called to her. She didn’t know how to describe it, and that terrified her. But she couldn’t help it. She often found herself thinking about it, wondering what might be going on in that trickster-like mind of his. And now here she was, so close she could smell whisky on his breath and cloves on his skin.

“You think I want this?” he asked. “That I asked for it? You think you know me, Elain?”

The way he whispered her name sent a shiver racing through her. She could do nothing to control it. His voice was dark and heavy as he spoke as though he were trying desperately to hold something back.

“No,” she said as evenly as she could manage. “Perhaps I don’t know you. But whose fault is that?”

A sharp smile.

“Oh?” he raised his hand to curl a finger beneath her chin. “It’s my fault, is it?”

She could only stare. She feared that if she nodded it would just give her body permission to go falling into his arms like one of the heroines from Nesta’s favorite books.

“Yes,” she replied when it was clear he was waiting for her to answer. “You are not an easy person to know.”

Lucien laughed, laughed, at her. The sound rumbled from him and sent flurries through Elain’s belly. “I’m not easy to know? You, Elain, have never met yourself, have you? For every chance I’ve tried to get to know you, you have ignored me. Hiding behind tea cups and floral arrangements. I have tried to reach out but you have said nothing. Believe you me, say the word and I will be gone.”

Elain rolled her eyes. “You won’t leave. This marriage contract benefits your father as much as mine.”

“I care not for my father,” Lucien said. The mention of his father leeched the warmth that usually accompanied him away as suddenly as if she’d smothered him. His eyes sharpened though, boring into her. “Nor do I answer to him.”

Elain’s heart beat far too heavily in her chest. They were up on the third floor of the mansion, the sounds of the party a mere hum in the background. She should have been concerned about being alone with a man, being so close to him. She should be concerned over the party continuing on without her for heaven’s sake. But all Elain could do was stare into Lucien’s gaze.

She wet her lips, speaking before she lost her nerve. “Who do you answer to, then?”

A look flashed in his eyes and Elain swore it was hunger. Desire. Want. No one had ever looked at her like this before. It sent a flush through her entire body. If she’d still had a wit of decorum left in her senses she would have shoved him away. As it was, she arched toward him. Whether it was simply for the connection of another human or for feeling more than the dainty woman everyone thought her to be--

Lucien’s eyes pierced her to the very soul. And when he dipped in closer, Elain felt her breath catch. One of his hands brushed over her cheek as though painting the blush right onto her skin.

Elain’s lips tingled in anticipation; certain he was about to kiss her. Much to her surprise, and horror, she wanted him to. In the years since the incident at the stream she’d tried not to think about him. She’d tried to forget that small taste of protectiveness and rebel against it. She'd become so used to being told what her life would be like and how she should act that now having him thrust upon her in such a manner made her want to shrink back. To fight any claim he might make over her.

But he did now want this either, did he? A forced marriage being controlled. This was never what he'd imagined for himself…was it?

And yet there was a desperation to him as his hands went to her waist, fingers tightening in the fabric of her gown. He didn't want to let her go…despite it all.

"What do you want, Lucien?" She asked when the silence stretched too long.

He leaned into her and Elain would have stumbled if he hadn't been supporting her she would have simply forgotten to stand sinking into those russet eyes of his.

"I," he began, but there was the click of a door and the two sprung apart looking for the source of the noise.

There emerging from her rooms in a simple blue dress was Feyre. She merely raised a brow. Just because she wasn’t allowed to attend the ball downstairs did not mean she was supposed to stay in her rooms. Well, their mother certainly expected it, but Elain knew her sister. Feyre had likely stolen a bottle of wine and had a little nook set up on the roof with her paints and a canvas.

Feyre crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorway of her room. “I do hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

The drawl was pointed, amused. Lucien emitted a low growl that only Elain could hear before he pulled away. He made sure Elain would keep her footing this time.

The interruption was just what Elain needed. She pulled out of Lucien's grasp, not an easy task when he seemed determined not to let her go, and faced her sister.

“Feyre,” she said. “What are you doing?”

Feyre betrayed nothing as her blue eyes widened in innocence. “Simply out for a stroll and thought I'd heard your voice.”

Her sister was a menace that shouldn't be trusted.

“Shouldn't you be enjoying the ball you planned?” Feyre continued, not moving from her perch in the doorway. She gave a pointed look at Elain’s rumpled appearance.

“Your sister was merely showing me about the manor,” Lucien stepped in lightly.

“Liar.” Amusement flashed in Feyre’s eyes.

“Feyre!” Elain could only stare at her sister. Seventh son or not, you didn't say such things to the son of a duke.

But Lucien merely laughed. “I can see why you're tucked away up here, not many could stand your sharp tongue, I take it.”

Feyre lifted her chin, eyes narrowed. “Consider it a good thing you're already betrothed. For I could make things miserable for you, Lord.”

Having had enough of this mess, Elain took Lucien's hand and pulled him down the hall, away from Feyre’s rooms. She knew her sister’s threat was mild to say the least, Feyre hardly cared about propriety or what they’re mother said.

“Perhaps you should tend to your studio sister,” Elain said. She gave Feyre a significant look which mostly went ignored.

“Good night,” Feyre sang lightly and then returned to her room, the door sticking shut behind her.

With no intention of showing Lucien Vanserra her bed chamber, Elain practically shoved him through the next available doorway, a broom closet, and rounded on him. She’d misjudged how big the closet was because when she turned to more effectively yell at Lucien, he was far closer to her than she’d expected. In fact, her nose nearly brushed his chest. There was no where she could go because she was a fool who had stuffed herself and Lucien in said closet without any second thought.

Craning her neck to glare at him, Elain crossed her arms over her chest. She ignored the fact that her bare arms ran along the soft fabric of his jacket sending small sparks along her skin.

Lucien meets her gaze, raising a brow that stretches out the scars that line one side of his face.

“Really, Elain? I thought you wanted to avoid this sort of scandal?”

As if anyone would care if they were stuffed in a closet together. If anything, it would only make her mother happy as they would be forced to move the wedding date up. A thought that churned Elain’s stomach.

Still, she set her jaw and did her best to appear to be looking down her nose at him. “Scandal. Our mothers would happily march us down the aisle tomorrow if they could.”

“Indeed,” Lucien mused. “Seems a bit silly then that we continue with a betrothal if that is the case.”

She pursed her lips. “I’ll retain what little freedom I have left for a bit longer, thank-you.”

Lucien’s brow ticked higher in the silent ask: then what are we doing in this damnable closet? Or something close to it because that was certainly the thought racing through her own mind.

“By spending the duration of your party in a closet,” he murmured instead. His breath aired out against her face: warm and tainted with the spicy scent of whiskey.

“It’s my mother’s party,” Elain said, a bit too sharply. Even though she’d been the one to organize everything to confirm the menu to— “And she made it clear I’m supposed to spend time with my betrothed. So really, I’m doing exactly what is expected of me.”

A small huff of amusement escaped Lucien’s lips and he shook his head. “Well, congratulations on that, I suppose.”

“Thank-you.”

Another smile turned up the corners of his mouth, his stupidly attractive mouth.

She took a small moment to force a quick breath, praying it would calm her erratic heartbeat. It didn’t work and she felt a flush begin to rise along her skin, creeping across her collarbone and neck.

“You wished to speak to me,” she said, voice quiet in an effort to hold back her flurry of emotions, “isn’t that why you chased me all around my home?”

That smile of his remained even as he pulled back to put space between them once more. “I know this marriage is not ideal for both of us, however, it is one that will benefit both of our families. Which we’re both concerned with.”

He gave her a significant look; the kind that said he was well aware of the pressures she was under from her parents.

“And?” she pressed, ready to get out of this damned closet that was somehow getting too small--the walls closing too tight around them and the scent of his cologne too strong and delicious.

“And I propose an…understanding,” he said. He paused as he considered his next words. “There is no escaping what awaits us, but we need not be miserable.”

Elain’s stomach churned at his words and what he could mean. She wasn’t a dunce, she knew that displeasure and unhappiness prevailed in most marriages of the -ton, her parents for example. But that’s not what she wanted. She wanted a marriage and happiness and a husband who favored her. And now here was her intended off to suggest affair partners before they were even wed.

“I would that we could be friends,” Lucien said, cutting in to the spiral of Elain’s thoughts.

She frowned; certain she hadn’t heard him right. “Friends?”

“Friends.”

Staring up at him, Elain tried to read his face. It was impassive as ever, the only thing showing any trait of personality being the scars that emanated from his eye. Though, she supposed that didn’t count.

“You want to be my friend?” she asked. Such a thing had never occurred, nor been proposed, to her. Mama always said that men wanted one thing and one thing alone and they would use her for it in any way they could. Besides, Elain had never had a real friend before. She could never trust her maids or ladies in waiting—they were all too loyal to Mama. She had her sisters, but Nesta was married now and Feyre had her own little tricks up her sleeves. They’d never been close and Elain doubted they ever would.

“Yes.”

And Elain, for some strange reason, believed him. For the most part. She wouldn’t let him behave so casually and confidently though.

“And what does being your friend entail?” she asked. Curious to see how he would define the word. It wasn’t as though she had a good definition herself, but that didn’t matter.

Amusement flashed briefly in his eyes before vanishing entirely.

“Never had a friend before, Lady Elain?” He asked it with amusement and fully of jest but the question pierced straight to her soul.

Because no; she’d never had a friend before. Not really. Not a close confidant nor companion. Oh, she had her sisters, but theirs was a strange thing to where Elain wasn’t sure exactly where they stood together.

Realizing she’d been quiet for too long, Elain merely shrugged. “Never one so misbehaving as you.”

That got a full laugh out of him. Rich and bright, Elain knew she wouldn’t forget the sound of it anytime soon. She didn’t think she’d ever heard him laugh like that.

“I suppose I can try and be better,” he said, “for you.”

“That’s all I would ask of you,” Elain said, with far more bravado than she felt. She then repeated her earlier question. “What would you ask of me, as your friend?”

“To trust me, to talk to me.”

He made it sound so easy that Elain just kept watching him, waiting for the impossible requirement to rear its head.

“That’s it?”

“For now.” And just like that his roguish nature returned and whatever brief kinship Elain may have thought present evaporated. His eyes gleamed with obvious merriment and a subtle slouch entered his posture.

Elain did her best to rise to her full height as she glared at him, which only made him smirk. With as much dignity she could muster, Elain reached around him to the door of the closet to shove it open. She needed space, needed fresh air, needed to not be so close to him while her mind ran rampant and chaotic.

“Until the next,” Lucien said.

Ever the gentleman, Lucien took her hand. He leaned in to press a kiss to the back of her fingers. Elain ignored the way her stomach clenched and her skin tingled. But it was hard to ignore the way his hand practically dwarfed hers and his woodsy scent wrapped around her.

And just like that, he slipped out of the closet to leave her alone with her thoughts. Thoughts that were not conducive to friendship. And thoughts that were simply not real to begin with. Because Lucien Vanserra, and whatever understanding they’d come to, was never going to lead her to happiness.

#elucien #elucienweek2024 #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #i am the worst at moodboards apprently #yeesh not my best effort #acotar

57 notes · View notes

invisibleanonymousmonsters · 1 year

Text

chapter xviii - gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 5,000+

masterlist

The next week consisted of a new routine.

Y/N would wake up to breakfast being politely brought into her room – despite insisting she could make her own way into the kitchens and save the servants the hassle.

When she emerged from her chambers, there was always at least two hounds waiting outside for Y/N. They followed her around the property, acting as both her companions and guard dogs. The servants and guards around the Forest House seemed shocked to find their High Lord’s blood hounds being pleasant and loyal to someone other than Eris. But Y/N ignored their stares.

After breakfast, Y/N would train with the Weapons Master of Autumn Court, who did not take it easy on her just because she was his High Lord’s mate.

Though he did manage to compliment Y/N on the first day for the previous training she clearly had been given. But for some reason, Y/N stopped herself from saying she was a Valkyrie.

The blood hounds would sit and watch Y/N train. And if she ever got knocked off her feet, they would growl warningly at her assailant. She tried to tell them it was OK, earning her a sad whine from them.

After training, Y/N would go to the main library of the Forest House – because apparently there were nearly a dozen. And there Y/N would research mating bonds, as well as the histories of Autumn Court.

Y/N had asked Lucien to show the library to her. He had quirked an eyebrow at the question, but asked for no further information. And Y/N made sure to memorize the route so she wouldn’t be forced to expose her new habit to any of the servants. Though Y/N doubted that there were many secrets about her in a royal household.

It had been just over a week of this routine when breakfast wasn’t delivered to her room.

Y/N was relieved, thinking that the servants had finally listened to her request and realized that she could find her own breakfast in the kitchens.

But as Y/N opened the room to her bedchambers, she jumped when there was a small female standing in front of her, looking up with an innocent gaze.

She bowed to Y/N, which felt entirely unnecessary. “Pardon the surprise, Lady Y/N. But Lady Leonora hoped you would join her for breakfast this morning.” Then the servant looked over Y/N's shoulder right before a loud thunder struck. “Since the rain will mean you have no training for today.”

Y/N blinked. She had been so delighted with the servants not waiting on her hand-and-foot that she hadn’t even noticed it was raining when she woke up.

Was it really a request from Lady of Autumn? Or was it simply the polite way to tell Y/N to do as she said?

“Right. Yes,” Y/N finally sighed. “You will show me the way?”

“Of course, Lady Y/N.”

She had to stop herself from wincing at the second use of the incorrect title.

“You needn’t call me 'Lady',” Y/N told her softly as they walked through the winding halls of the Forest House. “I am of no noble blood. Just Y/N is fine.”

The servant somehow seemed to expect such a comment and smiled up at her. “But you are the High Lord’s mate. It does not matter where you come from. Even without your connection to our High Lord, you are a hero to most here. Calling you Lady Y/N is the least we could do in return for what you have done for Autumn Court.”

Y/N was taken aback by her words.

Most run from her when they see or hear of her witchcraft. It made them fear and distrust her. But fae were strange beings; they only ever seem enamored with her gifts.

They reached the chambers of Lady Autumn much quicker than Y/N would’ve expected. With how close her own rooms were to hers, she was surprised she hadn’t run into her yet.

The servant gestured to the door, making it clear that she was going to remain in the hall. “She is expecting your arrival. Please.”

Y/N didn’t understand why she suddenly felt so nervous.

It was obvious both Eris and Lucien loved their mother dearly – and were utterly protective of her. But that didn’t prepare Y/N for the type of female Leonora actually was.

Perhaps the centuries of being forced into a marriage with Beron had made her cold and brutal.

But how could such a thing be when Eris and Lucien had both been nothing but kind to her? Surely that kindness came from her.

When Y/N walked in, Leonora immediately rushed to her with a warm smile.

“Y/N, thank you for joining me. I am grateful of the rain, otherwise I would never be able to steal you away from your training. Eris says its quite important to you.”

“T-Thank you for inviting me,” Y/N managed to say. Though it came out almost like a question she was so out of her element.

“I have wanted to come see you and ask how you were acclimating…but Eris is so worried about you being overwhelmed here. I did not want to add to it.”

“Oh,” Y/N blurted out. “I mean, you are not overwhelming me at all, Lady Autumn.”

Leonora tried not to laugh at the title. “Please, none of that. I am Leonora. In fact, I am no longer the Lady of Autumn.”

“Aren’t you still the dowager Lady of Autumn?”

Y/N truly didn’t know. If it was the mortal realm and Leonora had once been Queen, she would’ve become the Dowager Queen.

But everything was a bit different in the fae realm.

Leonora smirked. “If I’m being honest, I don’t really care for titles. I never did. Now, I am simply the mother of the new High Lord.”

Y/N kept waiting to offend, but Leonora seemed to not take anything too seriously. At least not in this moment.

Leonora guided Y/N to what appeared to be her own small living room. “Now, Eris said you prefer coffee in the morning, saving tea for nighttime.”

Y/N had to hide her smirk at the idea that Eris talked about her so much to his mother that such a little detail of her personality would get passed to Leonora.

Then Y/N took in Leonora’s dress. There were no greens or reds or rich browns of the Autumn Court to be seen in her clothes.

No, instead she wore mostly black.

Was she in mourning? Or had this place been her prison for so long that she felt sickened by its uniform?

Servants came out with a silver trey filled with teacups, a kettle, milk, and sugar. But once they set it down on the coffee table before the two ladies, they disappeared entirely.

Leonora gave Y/N a sad but considerate look. “Is there something I can do to make you more comfortable, Y/N?”

Her face got hot with embarrassment. “No! No, sorry! I mean, you must e-excuse me. I…I get very…umm…overwhelmed in such settings. I was never taught any sort of…e-etiquette.”

Leonora immediately knew what Y/N was trying to say and gave her a warm smile before she reached over to place on a hand on hers. “If you ask me, such decorum is a waste of time and effort. Coffee still goes to the same place, no matter how you drink it.”

As if proving her point, Leonora quickly poured herself her own coffee, purposely making it louder and ruder than a polite Lady would.

“Y/N, I didn’t bring you here as some test or to interrogate you. I was just…Well, I was only hoping I could get to know you.”

Suddenly a window flew open, and the wind rushed into the room. It was gentle, not disrupting anything in the room. It simply blew around Y/N’s face, fluttering her hair.

Y/N finally seemed to relax and allowed herself to believe Leonora’s claims.

Leonora slowly started to ask her personal questions – nothing controversial, and absolutely nothing even so much has hinting at her mating bond with Eris.

Leonora seemed fascinated by Y/N being a witch and asked many things about her craft and abilities. Not once did she make Y/N feel like some sort of freak or monster.

It became easier and easier to talk to her.

Now Y/N didn’t know why she expected Leonora to be so stiff and cold. She was the opposite: welcoming, warm, and understanding.

A couple hours had gone by of them just chatting, getting to know one another.

And it had made Y/N feel brave.

“Why do you stay here?” She whispered softly when they found a moment of silence, watching Leonora’s face carefully.

Leonora’s brow furrowed with confusion.

Y/N continued, “Why do you not go to him?”

Leonora nodded slowly, somehow knowing exactly who ‘him’ was. “Eris told me you had a way of knowing things…”

Then she gave her a sad grin. “I fear it is much more complicated than that.”

“Do you no longer love him?” Y/N’s eyes widened, realizing what she blurted out. “I apologize. I am…not good at keeping to my own business.”

“I do,” Leonora surprisingly answered. “Love him still, that is.” She frowned and her eyes stared into nothingness as she got lost in her own mind and heart. “But much has happened. There is so much between us. Beron’s death did not just suddenly rid of us of the centuries we spent apart.”

Y/N gave her a sympathetic look. “He loves you still. It’s so strong that it’s all they tell me about him.” She grasped Leonora’s hand. “He’s waited for you all this time…what’s a little bit more? But you should only go to him when you are ready.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the entrance of the chambers.

A servant came out of nowhere to answer it and immediately stepped aside to let them in.

A male servant entered and bowed to them.

“Pardon the intrusion. The High Lord wishes to see you.”

“Of course,” Leonora nodded and stood.

The servant cleared his throat awkwardly. “The High Lord has actually requested both of you, Lady of Autumn. Lady Y/N is to join us, as well.”

The two females shared a look.

“It will be quite alright, dear.” Leonora told Y/N with a reassuring smile.

––

Y/N and Leonora were escorted to the great hall, where Eris stood around a giant round table with his advisors.

The High Lord did a double take as soon as he spotted Y/N’s entrance.

The servant bowed his head to Eris. “Lady of Autumn and Lady Y/N, High Lord. As requested.”

Eris nodded his thanks.

All of his advisors stared at Y/N. Apparently they were used to Leonora, and almost ignored her presence entirely after bowing their greetings.

Y/N shifted her weight nervously, but kept her head high.

Was she finally being punished for helping usurp Beron Vanserra? Despite helping crown Eris, was there consequences for her to face?

She didn't know the laws of the fae realm.

An advisor cleared his throat and looked to Eris calmly. “I believe it would be best for you to explain, High Lord.”

Eris glared at his table. “Would it? Because I have made it clear what my position is on the matter.”

That was when Y/N noticed Eris was clutching a letter in his hand – quite violently by the look of his white knuckled grip.

Eris sighed and looked at only Y/N, stepping away from the table to get closer to her.

“The other High Lords of Prythian have finally decided to acknowledge Beron’s demise. When word reached that two Night Court Illyrians and Lady Death had come to our aid, it has made them…concerned.”

Y/N narrowed her gaze. “It was Rhysand who sent them…why does he not answer for their involvement?”

“He will be questioned, as well. There will be a meeting of the High Lords in two day’s time. But they have…requested that you also attend.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped slightly. “Me?” She looked around at the advisors. “But how…how do they even know of my existence?”

Eris frowned. “Those still loyal to Beron made sure to spread the news of the witch who cursed Autumn Court.” Then he hesitated before adding, “But the news of my mate has also become…known.”

Of course it has. That was why she was stuck here, wasn’t it?

Eris stepped closer to Y/N with a look of determination. “You do not have to go.”

But Y/N swallowed and glanced at his advisors. Clearly they didn’t agree with that option.

“I-I have a choice?” She asked so only he and Leonora could hear.

“Of course you do,” Eris answered, as if it were obvious.

“But…I don’t understand what they want from me.”

Eris frowned. “They wish to question you about the night of the usurping. The other High Lords are weary about Rhysand’s aid. They see it as a move for him to take over other courts – or at least an effort to force other High Lords to give him something in return.”

Y/N’s eyes darkened. “You mean they wish to interrogate me. They don’t trust my role in all this.”

“I will not allow it. I will be there the entire time, as will my mother.” Then he snapped a warning glare at his advisors before once again adding, “But the choice remains your own.”

Y/N took in a deep breath. “I will attend the meeting.”

—🍁—🍁—🍁—

The meeting of the High Lords took place in Summer Court, which Y/N learned still had somewhat of a contentious relationship with Night Court after they stole a forbidden book.

Y/N had asked the wind to tell her everything it could to prepare for her for this meeting. If she was going to be interrogated – even if Eris promised to prevent such a thing – she wanted to know any secret she could about these High Lords.

Leonora’s handmaidens had woken Y/N up, insisting on helping her get ready. They did her hair and makeup. Then they put her into a dress that was the colors of Autumn Court, but clearly a lighter fabric to deal with the warm and beachy climate of Summer Court.

But when Y/N met Leonora in the hallway, she was surprised to find the former High Lady in a gold and white gown. She'd been expecting another conservative black dress. But now it was clear that Leonora was sending a message to her past lover.

Leonora smirked, knowing exactly what Y/N had figured out. “I think there is no longer a reason for subtly, do you not agree?”

Y/N gave a shy smile and nodded in agreement.

“Come. Eris is waiting for us in the great hall.”

When the two females arrived, Eris did a double take at Y/N’s appearance.

“Did we do well, my son?” Leonora asked him teasingly.

Eris tried to glare at his mother, but it mostly looked like amusement.

He cleared his throat and stepped towards them, offering his hands to winnow them. “Let us get this over with, shall we?”

Y/N couldn’t decide which she hated more: winnowing or flying. But the winnowing left her feeling rather disoriented.

They had arrived at an entryway of a palace. Y/N assumed it was the home of High Lord Tarquin – or one of his homes.

But then she heard the waves and the squeaks of seagulls. And she turned to see one of the most beautiful views she’d ever laid eyes on.

Immediately she felt a sheen of sweat cover her skin. Yes, the views of the ocean were beautiful. But Y/N was not meant for such a warm climate. Already, she wished to return to the brisk air of Autumn.

“High Lord Eris, Consort Leonora, and Lady Y/N,” the servant greeted them with a bow. “The other High Lords have just arrived. Please, follow me.”

Y/N was surprised to find Eris’ arm extended for her to take. Leonora walked behind them, clearly trying to show that she was no longer the Lady of Autumn.

There were seats set in a circle in what appeared to be an open room to the elements, surrounded by high, white arches that offered a perfect view of the ocean. Y/N could still perfectly hear the soft crashing of the waves.

Y/N hated that they were the last to arrive. She was sure Eris did it as some sort of power move. But it meant that everyone stared at their arrival.

She knew that Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, Azriel, and Nesta would all be here. But Y/N couldn’t find it in herself to even so much as look at them.

Tarquin stood at their approach and gestured to the only empty seat left in the circle. “Thank you for coming, Eris.”

With a snap of his finger, Eris magically placed an identical chair next to his own and gestured for Y/N to sit in it. Leonora seemed to have no intention of sitting and stood behind them, gently propping her hand on the edge of her sons chair.

To Y/N, it was a polite gesture for Eris. But really it was a show of irritation that Y/N was not important enough to receive her own place in the circle – despite being a High Lord’s mate.

Y/N noticed that Tamlin – Feyre’s ex-lover – had even managed to show up. Apparently he had failed over and over again to tend to his duties as High Lord of Spring.

“Let us not waste time,” Tarquin began, eyeing Eris closely. “You can understand how the recent events in Autumn have made the rest of us weary.”

“I am not the first High Lord to usurp the throne,” Eris answered boredly. “I was not aware all of you were so allegiant to Beron.”

“It is not your usurping. It is how you involved the Night Court in your attack against your own father,” Thesan commented.

“I did not ask for their aid,” Eris answered instantly. “They came to save Y/N, not help with my effort to take the throne.”

“Ahh, yes. The witch,” Helion hummed with amusement.

The High Lord of Day Court looked Y/N up and down, as if it would solve her mystery for him.

“We came to Y/N’s aid because she is our friend and a fellow Valkyrie,” Nesta chimed in coldly. “Her gifts sent us a warning that she was in danger, that Beron had captured her.”

“To cross Court lines to aid in foreign affairs is a risky one at best,” Tarquin answered.

“Perhaps we should ask the witch of what happened to her that night,” Helion pushed with subtle amusement.

“The witch has a name,” Eris hissed. “And it would be wise of you to use it.”

Helion’s gaze snapped to Leonora, only for a second. Then he nodded his head. “My apologies. Y/N, would you step forward please?"

Y/N’s teeth ground together as she stood from her chair and stepped into the circle.

“Why don’t you tell us about your journey?” Helion requested gently.

“I lived on my own in the Mortal Realm…until I was captured by fae – amongst other women and children. It had become clear that we were being traded to wealthy fae, who wished to use humans as they pleased. I will let all of your imaginations come up with what exactly that meant. I attacked my captors as we passed through Autumn Court, and told the others to run for their lives. That is when…when Eris found me.”

With the wave of his hand, Eris magically dropped a pile of papers beside Y/N.

“What is this?” Rhysand spoke for the first time.

Eris tilted his head. “Documents, proving that Beron was aiding wealthy merchants from the Continent in trading mortals as slaves. They were being brought to the Middle to be sold to the highest bidder and transported across the sea. Y/N was not the first to be taken – but she was the first to escape and save the rest of the victims in her party.”

“Everyone here knows this is not the only evil Beron has released onto Prythian,” Eris added for good measure.

Helion's gaze darkened as it once again flickered to Leonora. Surely he was imagining all the abuse his past lover had endured by the hands of Beron Vanserra.

He was the first to break the tense silence. “No one here believes that Beron was a just and rightful ruler.”

Once again, his gaze snapped momentarily to Leonora.

“Rhysand aided my cause because I asked him to protect my mate with his life," Eris announced. "Night Court was the safest place for her."

“Why not go to another Court?” Kallias, the High Lord of Winter, asked.

“The Archeron sisters were once mortals. My brother is an emissary there. The Night Court was well aware of my plans to usurp Beron. They understood more than anyone why I could not leave my mate just anywhere to be protected from my father.”

“And what did you promise Rhysand in return?” Kallias urged.

��Autumn’s loyalty and aid – when it would be mine to give,” Eris announced. “But Night Court did not request this of me, I offered it freely.” Eris shifted in his seat awkwardly. “I was a male…desperate to protect my mate.”

It took all of Y/N’s strength not to turn around to see Eris’ face as he spoke of what he did to protect her. She could only stare at the ground, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Y/N became one of us,” Feyre spoke for the first time. “We would have protected any innocent with or without the promise of Autumn’s loyalty.”

“And are you innocent?” Tamlin also broke his silence, glaring at Y/N as if she had personality offended him. “You are a witch, after all.”

But Y/N would not take it. “Careful how you speak to me, High Lord Tamlin.” Her eyes darkened. “Or you risk exposing secrets you wish to keep locked away. I know more of you than you could ever know of me.”

She couldn’t see it, but Eris grinned at his mate with pride.

“Y/N is not like the witches we have heard about,” Rhysand chimed in. “She comes from a coven who wished to keep to themselves, only revealing themselves to aid others. That was proven when she risked her life to save our son.”

“Which was also an attack set by Beron,” Eris noted darkly.

Feyre and Rhysand sat up straighter.

Azriel and Cassian’s fists tightened at their sides.

Nesta looked…murderous.

If Beron still lived, Y/N was sure that Nesta would have singlehandedly killed him after hearing such news.

“The slave trade was not Beron’s only evil dealings. He planned on kidnapping Nyx, fearful of the power the child would grow to have. Whether he planned on keeping the child hostage for his own use or selling him to the Continent, I do not know. The assailants were no soldiers of mine, but they were of the Autumn Court.”

“It would appear it was time for Beron Vanserra’s demise,” Helion declared darkly.

“It should have happened long ago,” Eris answered back.

“What power do you possess, Y/N?” Thesan asked with curiosity. “Your coven has hidden themselves rather well.

Tamlin leaned forward in his seat, eyeing Y/N with suspicion. “The only witches I know of are desperate for power. They will kill whatever innocents they can find, and consume their blood.”

Y/N had been waiting for such a question – dreading it, actually.

The thing was, she did not even know what she was capable of any longer. A new power had been unleashed inside her. Whether it was during life or death situations only, she did not know. But she feared losing control of it.

“She is not a subject to be studied!” Eris snapped before Y/N could even think of a response to the question that felt more like an accusation. “Y/N has been through enough, and I will not allow her to be poked and prodded for your own curiosities.”

Helion also came to her defense and claimed, “She is not the first of her kind. I have met other witches like her in my life. Their hearts are true and they hold no evil.” Then he smirked. “But none were as powerful as it seems you are, Y/N. Curious that the Cauldron chose a mortal witch for a High Lord’s mate.”

“That is enough discussion of our bond,” Eris interrupted, leaving no room for argument. Then he addressed the circle of High Lords and Ladies. “Are you all content now?”

“It is clear Night Court has no ploys to take over other courts,” Kallias nodded. “And I for one think Prythian is better off with Beron dead. Leave Eris to handle his court. He has a long journey ahead of him, gaining the favor of his fae.”

Everyone else nodded in agreement.

As everyone rose, some started quietly talking amongst themselves.

Y/N watched as Helion locked eyes with Leonora. It was clear that he wanted to go to to her. He took half a step in her direction, but something made him hesitate.

She was so distracted with the interaction, that she hadn’t seen her friends of the Night Court – if that’s even what they were to her anymore. Y/N still hadn’t figured it out.

After Eris insisted he’d promised something in return for them all looking after her, Y/N felt like perhaps she’d been too harsh with assuming they had been using her for their own gain.

Feyre stepped forward first, with a cautious warmth. “I am glad to see you well after the attack, Y/N.”

Then Y/N suddenly felt a warmth behind her. Eris was right behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat from his body at her back.

He wasn’t going to interrupt or cease the conversation, but he wanted her to know he was there for her.

“Y/N, you must understand, we never wanted to keep any secrets from you,” Feyre continued.

“For what it’s worth,” Eris muttered quietly to her. “I forbid them from telling you the truth. I thought things would be easier that way.”

Y/N nodded slowly.

Nesta and Cassian looked desperate for her forgiveness. Azriel watched her with a sadness in his gaze that he hid from everyone else quite well.

“Everyone misses your store,” Cassian chimed in with a gentle smile. “Velaris’ isn’t the same without your witchcraft and medicine.”

“Velaris isn’t the same without you,” Nesta corrected.

Y/N took in a deep and shaky breath. “T-T-Thank you for taking me in,” she looked into all their eyes as she said it. “Deep down, I always knew even if Eris hadn’t promised you what he did, you still would have treated me as one of your own.”

A wave of relief seemed to wash over the five of them.

“But I wish to stay in Autumn Court,” she continued. “Until it’s safe for me to return to the Mortal Realm, that is.”

Y/N tried to pretend that she couldn’t feel Eris’ entire body tense at the second part.

“I hope we can continue to be friends,” she ended softly.

“Of course, Y/N.” Rhysand answered immediately. “And you are always welcome in Night Court, whenever you wish to visit.”

Nesta stepped forward. “And perhaps we could…visit you in Autumn.”

Y/N nodded. But then quickly looked back at Eris for confirmation, as if he would take away such a privilege.

He simply nodded, as well.

Nesta hurriedly added. “Gwyn and Emerie said they wish to write to you, as well.”

Y/N grinned. “I would like that very much.”

“Are you keeping up your training?” Cassian asked with a smirk.

“Of course,” Y/N narrowed her eyes playfully. “Eris has his Weapon’s Master training me every morning. Soon I’ll have mastered the fight strategies of Illyrians, Valkyries, and Autumn Court.” She quirked an eyebrow for good measure.

“She will be a fearsome thing,” Eris muttered.

Y/N didn’t expect such a compliment – especially from him and especially in front of such an audience.

Her face got hot from it.

But when she looked up, Feyre and Cassian all seemed to be trying to hide their amusement.

“We will send you the rest of your things by the end of the night,” Rhysand told her.

“Oh, there’s no need. Eris has given me more than enough clothing.”

For some reason, it seemed wrong to take all those fanciful gifts Rhysand had insisted on gifting her after the attack on Nyx. It felt even more wrong to wear such things in a foreign court – and in front of her mate.

But Eris didn’t seem to think so. “My servants will be waiting for their arrival.”

Y/N’s brows raised in surprise. “But…if it’s not too much trouble to ask, I’d like my supplies and merchandise from my store.”

“Of course,” Rhysand said with a slight bow of his head.

Leonora finally stepped toward the group. “Time to go?” She asked her son.

He nodded.

When Y/N turned back to her friends, they gave her an encouraging look.

“We will see you soon,” Feyre insisted.

With that, Eris winnowed the three of them back to Autumn Court.

Leonora already started to make her way to the dining room, leaving the two of them alone.

“I really don’t need all those gifts Rhysand gave me,” Y/N insisted hurriedly. “They were beautiful, but they weren’t very…me.”

Eris shrugged. “You can sell them all before returning to the Mortal Realm. Open a new shop without trouble.”

Y/N couldn’t understand why her heart sunk at his suggestion. Was he really so on board with her leaving and returning to the Mortal Realm? Did he not want her here at all? But that’s what she wanted, right? To be left alone and back in her old life of solitude and secrecy?

-----

OK. This is quite long. Don't really know how that happened. But let me know what you thought! Everyone be like @pancakefancake

Chapter XIX

#acotar #a court of thorns & roses #gust & flame #eris vanserra #eris #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #autumn court #lady of autumn #high lord of autumn court #prythian #high lords of prythian

420 notes · View notes

lalachat · 11 months

Text

"And there you were..."

Author's note: WITERLLY WHAT THE HECK GUYS!!! You have made my heart so full! Almost 100 notes in under 24 hours😭❤️ yall gon make me cry! I am truly and utterly grateful that y'all are liking it so far! I'm a little insecure with my writing, but it's only because i'm so new. I am open to any kind of advice you can give me or constructive criticism that will help make this fic better for you readers. With practice comes improvement!! Also, look i'm evolving with my tumbler knowledge and added dividers, a tag list, and a masterlist that i hope works! Look at me go😭🤧 ANYWHOOOO... are y'all ready for this one?? I fully planned on posting this next week but i'm too freaking excited! Eheheheh writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet! Enjoy my loves<3

Summary: You and Lucien decided to leave Rita's after discovering your mates kissing each other. With no reason to stay, Lucien offers you the comfort of his home and a glass of your favorite wine to help decompress the stress of both your mates. How could you say no?

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: usage of profanity, sexual tension growing between Lucien and y/n, some fluff bc why not, sharing a bed, potential grammar and spelling issues

Word Count: around 3,350

Chapter 2: "Scream my name..."

As you and Lucien walked out of Rita’s, neither of you had noticed two pairs of eyes lingering watching you both leave after they heard Rhys’ commotion questioning Mor into oblivion about what the hell was going on. Mor had almost smirked at the fact that all it took was for you and Lucien to leave together to make Az and Elain both glance at y’alls receding figures. If it weren't for Rhysand in her face, she well would have. Even as Rhys is trying to get her to talk, she could not wait to tell you the plan had worked! Even if it was just a glance, it was still something! Small progress is still progress, right? Oh, she wishes she could have Feyre paint their reactions to you two leaving because it was priceless. Maybe Mor would and give it to you for solstice? But for now, she has a very upset cousin to deal with.

You and Lucien stopped at a local market to grab snacks and your favorite wine for your impromptu evening at his apartment. As you walk out of the market towards his place, Lucien can’t help but to ask about Azriel.

“So... The shadowsinger is your mate huh?” Lucien asks while tucking his hands in his front pockets glancing to your face as he asked you his question.

“Yeah... When I first met Az, it was when Rhys had offered me a room to stay in for a night. Rhys and I had quite literally run into each other a moment prior. I was traveling through the night court and was so distracted by the beauty that I ended up running right into Rhysand. I had knocked his freshly bought paint that he was planning to give Feyre all over us. I felt so bad that I kept offering to pay him for the cost of the paint along with his clothes, but he kindly refused. I had no mental shields back then, so he easily saw I was a nomadic traveler that had no place to stay or wash up. He offered me a room in his home for a night and a training over mental shields as payment, and I kindly accepted. I hadn't had a nice place to stay in such a long time. But, little did I know it would not be my peace and that my mate lived in the home I was about to stay at.” you said as you walked in tandem with Lucien down the streets towards his apartment.

“Always so generous that high lord. And, I assume you know who my mate is then?”

“That he is. And yes, I do. If you don’t mind me asking, why doesn’t she want the bond?”

“The same reason your mate doesn’t see yours... She’s too busy being enamored by him to try and pursue or explore things with me.” He finds a rock on the pavement to kick along as you two walk. Lucien kicks it towards you.

“At least she knows you’re her mate.” you shrug, kick the rock back, and Lucien chuckles.

“You have a point, and Azriel would know if you would just tell him.”

“Yeah, but would it change anything between us? Probably not. It would most likely end up like you and Elain if I told him...” Lucien stops and goes silent for a moment. “No offense of course!”

“None taken. How did we even end up in this mess? You and I both having mates who do not reciprocate any kind of feelings toward us because they like each other is almost ironic.” He laughs at this situation you are both in.

“You know now that you're saying it out loud, it is quite ridiculous.” You giggle. For a moment you had completely forgotten about Azriel and Elain. Lucien once again, being so alluring that you forgotten what you had just seen at Rita’s.

Lucien glances at you and finally takes in your appearance. Your cheeks start to turn rosy at the sight of his eyes trailing over your body. Your dress still leaving little imagination for Lucien. Your body grows hot from the sudden attention.

“He’s absolutely dumb as rocks for not looking at you tonight, because you look ravishing.” and gives you a playful wink.

“Lucien you're just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Y/n I kid you not, I truly mean it. You are one of the most beautiful females I have ever seen!”

“Thank you Lucien, that means so much more to me than you will ever know,” as you look into his eyes and smile at him. He stares at you, smiles and dips his head to say you're welcome before continuing.

“Almost there, it is right around this corner.”

“Perfect, because I am freezing and in dire of more alcohol. I am too sober for all this emotional shit,” you say as Lucien laughs at your comment and you both turn the corner.

“And we're here! Home sweet home!”

You walk into his apartment and your senses are engulfed by the smell of cinnamon sticks, crisp apples, cedarwood, and roasted chestnuts. It felt like home. Everything in his apartment felt so warm and welcoming. You sat down the groceries you had gotten on the center table near the living room couch, and slowly took in his décor. You were surprised everything looked so coordinated. His apartment was filled with warm colors like reds, oranges, and yellows. It reminded you of your brief stay in the autumn court. You wondered if that’s why Lucien decorated it this way. Maybe he had found a sense of belonging in those colors. While you were taking in his apartment, you hadn’t noticed him grabbing you a change of clothes to wear along with a warm woolly blanket.

“Here, these are for you to change into, and this is for you when you get cold later because I know you,” Lucien handed you the clothes and sat the blanket down on the couch. “The bathroom is through the hall on your left! Let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay, thank you!”

You started walking to the bathroom, the floor creaking beneath your feet as you opened the door. You stepped inside and quietly shut the door. You could hear Lucien in the kitchen popping the bottle of wine and pouring you both glasses, but what you forgot to realize is how you were going to take this dress off. After Mor’s last minute dress change, you had to call Nuala and Cerridwen to help you into it. You had not thought about how you were going to get it off. You slightly began to panic. “It’s okay... you can do this. It’s just a dress, can't be that hard right?” You tried to maneuver your arms into reaching the back of your dress but to no avail, Mor had to pick the most complicated thing you have ever seen. She was right though, this dress did look hot as fuck on you. You struggled a few times more before huffing and giving up. So, you had to do what you had to do...

“LUCIEN, I NEED HELP!” You could practically hear him sprinting down the hall to get to you in the bathroom. Without thinking he pushes the door wide open.

“WHAT IS IT? Are you alright?” His face scans you for any kind of injuries but finds none. The only thing he finds is you still in that damn dress that drove him crazy. “Why are you not in the clothes I gave you?”

“First of all, I could have been indecent. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock! Secondly, you see, as a male you would not understand this predicament, but I cannot get my dress off by myself. I need help unfortunately... I swear this is all Mor’s fault!”

Cauldron boil him... “So, you mean to tell me, you screamed my name to help you with your dress because you cannot do it yourself?”

“Yes...” you can hear Lucien sigh.

“There are much better ways to scream my name y/n and you know that but for the sake that you are quite literally stuck in that dress, I’ll help you. Turn around.” Your face turns hot at his comment, and you swat at his arm.

“LUCIEN! This is not funny!” he can't help but chuckle at your flustered state.

“Okay, okay, you being stuck in a dress is not funny. Got it! Now stop being stubborn and turn around so I can help.”

“No, wait! You have to close your eyes!”

“Y/n, how am I supposed to help you with your dress if I cannot see? Besides you act like I haven't seen you naked.” Again, your face betrays you as your cheeks turn bright red at the thought. You huff.

“Fine, okay you can keep your eyes open but no funny business Mr. Vanserra. I am watching you!” Lucien chuckles at how flustered he had made you and he is living for it.

You slowly turn your back to him and lock eyes with him through the bathroom mirror. Lucien takes the back of his knuckles and traces them delicately down the skin of your spine, almost like if you were made of glass and that you'd break at the slightest touch. His hand radiates so much warmth you must stop yourself from letting out a couple of sighs. The entire time he does this his eyes do not leave from yours through the mirror. His hand finally reaches the back of your dress, and he looks away to start undoing the claps. Thank the mother because his stare was driving you crazy. Each clasp he undoes, he makes sure to take his sweet time on. He doesn't miss the way your skin crawls with goosebumps at the slightest touch of his hands against your back. Gods, you had missed his fiery touch. It had felt like forever since he last touched you.

You slowly felt the dress getting heavier with each clasp undone. You could tell Lucien was near the end when your dress had almost slipped off your chest threatening to expose your naked breasts to him. Luckily, Lucien was too preoccupied to have noticed you trying to regather it back up for coverage. You couldn’t help but to selfishly think about turning around to look at him as your dress falls to the floor. Heat slowly began to warm your lower abdomen. You had to clench your thighs together in hope of Lucien not catching your growing scent of arousal. What would Lucien do to you if you did that? Would he pin you against the sink and truly make you scream his name? Gods you wished. Just then you caught a whiff of your scent. Damn your mind and body for betraying you! You were so worried about Lucien this whole time, when you should've been worrying about yourself. However, you decide that this is probably not the time to be thinking about such lewd things after what happened with Az.

As he was on the last clasp, Lucien couldn’t help catching your lingering scent in the air. You were going to be the death of him. He kisses the newly exposed skin of your back as his scent starts to slightly change and mix in with yours. Your head fell back as your eyes closed in anticipation. His eyes had wandered back to the mirror to see your eyes shut reeling in his touch as he peppered kisses up and down your spine. He marveled at this moment for a brief second before unclasping the last clasp of your dress. Your eyes met his as the last clasp was undone, and you let your dress pool to the floor as a test of restraint. For you or him, you didn’t know which. He held you gaze for a moment, never looking away from your eyes, before ghosting his lips on the nape of your neck.

“All done...” he whispered as he slowly turned around, shut the door, and walked away back to the kitchen. Cruel wicked male.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and tried to recompose yourself. Gods would drinking more wine be safe anymore after what just happened? You sighed and you picked your dress up off the floor and folded it as nicely as you could. You grabbed the clothes Lucien had given you to change into and started putting them on. Immediately you are swallowed by the musk of Lucien's clothes. It is almost overwhelming if it weren’t for the fact that you loved the smell of the autumn court male.

You laughed at yourself in the mirror as you looked and saw his t hanging so loose on you, it was practically a dress. But let's be honest, you loved it. You slowly opened the bathroom door and made your way out with your former dress folded nicely in your hands. You sat your dress down on the table and turned towards Lucien with a smile.

“So... how do I look?” and give him a twirl. Lucien looks at you and smiles. Gods, you looked even better in his clothes than in that dress but he wasn’t about to give in that easily.

“Like a little boy.” Lucien said with a playful gleam in his eyes.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW!” as you shake a finger at his face. He laughs.

“Fine... You look like a very cute little boy!” he says grinning from ear to ear loving the effects his teasing was having on you tonight. You instead stick out your tongue and give him that all too well known finger gesture. He is practically hurled over in laughter, but you just huff and plop yourself on his couch.

“Be useful and get this “cute little boy” more wine! I'm definitely too sober now.” He laughs again and it warms your chest. You cant help but to grin back.

“Are you sure you can drink wine? You look a little young to be drinking such adult drinks” as he grabs the wine glasses along with the bottle for refills later.

“LUCIEN, I WILL STRANGLE YOU IF I HEAR ONE MORE LITTLE BOY JOKE!”

“Okay, okay. Here’s your wine doll.” He hands you your glass with a smile, “You actually look even more beautiful now that you’re in my clothes.” As he sends you a wink before sipping some of his wine.

“Thank you...” you smile as you take a sip from your own glass.

“So, other than your mate being an enigma to you, what else has happened since I saw you last?” you both get comfy on the couch and sip on your wine.

You had failed to realize how long you and Lucien were apart. You told him about your travels through all the different courts, and he told you about his part in the war along with how he became a part of the night court. You both sat there and exchanged every story you could possibly think of, trying to catch up on every moment you missed together. Soon the stories turn into giggling. Neither of you could hold it together as one of you would say something slurred and the other could cry out in laughter. It was the wine-speaking now, but neither of you had minded. You both had forgotten what it was like to be in each other's presence. It was nice to rekindle old flames with your friend, but you had to be careful. Recatching old feelings would not be good for you with this whole Azriel situation. You looked out the corner of your eye to see Lucien trying to fight off a yawn.

“Oh, don't tell me my lil fox boy has grown tired of me?” as you slightly pinch his cheeks. He grins as he sees you also fighting off your own tiredness.

“Mmmm seems like my yawns are contagious then, because I could’ve sworn I saw you do one just now.” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Okay, maybe I did. All this catching up and wine drinking has made me sleepy.” You decide to grab the blanket Lucien sat on the couch for you earlier this evening.

“I don’t blame you... Now if you excuse me, I am going to go change into something more comfortable, these clothes are killing me, and then we will call it a night.” he says as he sticks a finger in his collared shirt to loosen the neck and walks off still in the clothes he wore at Rita’s. You chuckle at his figure walking down the hallway to what you would assume to be his room. You don’t know how long he was in there, but you couldn’t wait any longer. Your eyes were too heavy, and you were too drunk to stop your movements down the hallway towards where Lucien disappeared. You find the door he dipped into and see it is cracked a smidge. You decide to knock, unlike Lucien earlier.

“Hey Lu? Can I come in?” No answer. “Lucien I’m really tired and I don’t know where you want me to sleep...” you slowly push the door open but put too much weight on it and tumble forward into his room. Unlike your knocking, Lucien heard you tumble and was at your side to catch you in a heartbeat. You let out a laugh. “Oh, I'm too drunk for this shit... I'm sorry, I only came here too-” you look up to see him in gray sweat pants, hair loose, and no shirt. Mother blessed this man too much! Oh fuck. Get me out of here.

“Y/n, you were saying something?” He looks down at you with mischief in his eyes knowing you couldn’t keep yours off his bare chest and gray sweatpants. Your eyes blink rapidly, and you shake your head trying to get that image out your mind but its seared its way in.

“Oh yes. I was just- um, why did I- OH! Where do you want me to sleep? I’m like minutes away from passing out on the damn floor!” Lucien laughs.

“You can sleep in here, and I can stay on the couch for tonight. Is that alright?”

“This is your bed and home Lucien. I can't let you sleep on the couch as I take your bed... it just feels wrong. I'll take the couch and you can keep your bed for tonight.” you say as you turn around to head back into the living room before you feel Lucien's hand around your waist stopping you.

“Y/n I swear to the mother, do not be stubborn and take the damn bed please. It’s too late for this, I promise you it’s okay! I insist.”

“I guess old habits never die. Always trying to get me in your bed Lu.” you smirk as you crawl in and wrap up in his silk auburn sheets. You thought his house and clothes smelled nice, but his sheets, his sheets were heavenly. You almost fell asleep then and there because it was so calming. Lucien walks over to you and kisses you on the forehead.

“Goodnight doll, I am truly sorry for your mates behavior tonight. Sleep well...” He turns around, turns out the lights, and is about to walk out the door but hesitates as he hears you say--

“Lucien wait-”

“Yes?”

“We’re both adults here, right?”

“Well one of us looks like a little boy, but yes. Why?” Lucien replied. You rolled your eyes at his playful remark from earlier.

“Adults can share a bed, and nothing has to happen.”

“Y/n are you saying you want me to sleep next to you?”

“Yes, I am. I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.” you sigh.

“Always so persuasive... scoot over.” You open the sheets and scoot over in the bed to make room for Lucien. You feel the bed dip down as he crawls in. You both lay there for a moment reeling in that you two are sharing a bed again. The only difference is now the lingering heartbreak you both feel from your mates. You turn around to face Lucien and ask-

“Can I lay on your chest?” He doesn’t verbally respond but wraps his hands around your waist and softly pulls you closer to him. You lay your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, and look up at his face. You tuck a couple of stray hairs that had fallen in his face and tuck them behind his ears and say, “Thank you for tonight, Lucien. Elain is so lucky to have you, she just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Thank you doll, neither does Azriel. Now let's get some much needed rest. Goodnight,” said Lucien.

“Goodnight Lu,” as you rest your hand on his bare chest next to your head and you feel Lucien's arms tighten around you. You can't help but to feel so at peace in his presence, and neither can he, as you both fell asleep holding each other all night.

If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know!

Tags:

@thelov3lybookworm @justdreamstars @character---obsessed @stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbooksandshadows

#lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #mor acotar #feyre acotar #rhys acotar #nesta archeron #cassian #azriel #elain archeron #acotar x reader #acotar #one bed trope

213 notes · View notes

climbthemountain2020 · 4 months

Text

Flame of Autumn - Chapter 25 Epilogue

Part 26/26 | Ao3

[Thank you all so much for your words of kindness and support while I wrote and posted this fic. As someone new to writing, having you here with me was everything. Your interactions mean the world to me, and I hope you all loved Tilly and Eris as much as I do. The art is from the absolutely incredible @VFisch on IG. She is open for commissions and absolutely LOVELY. ] Epilogue

Four Years Later

“Kieran, wait please!”

The boy was off like a shot, tearing wildly out of the front doors of the Forest House and out into the lawn, the troupe of dogs bursting out behind him like a cloud of smoke and fur. Eris trotted after him, Tilly following slightly behind. The sun was bright, and the air was warm for Autumn, the scent of sun-warmed pine needles permeating the air as the leaves swirled on the wind around them.

“Dada! I can climb!” Kieran was already scaling up the stone wall near the training rings, taking careful but quick steps as he danced around the half circle, his mop of bright red curls flopping into his eyes. Eris was transported to a similar scene in his mind of another small redhead dancing around a crumbling stone wall once upon a time. He couldn’t help his smile as Tilly snaked her hand around his arm and leaned her head against him.

“You climb so well, buddy!” Eris shielded his eyes from the sun with his other hand, then said lower to Tilly, “He makes me so nervous when he does this, but I don’t want to keep him from doing fun things.” She patted his arm, laughing.

“I know, love. I know.” She took a few steps forward towards the wall and their son. “If we stop letting your brothers watch him, perhaps he’d be a bit less rowdy.” She shot him a grin over her shoulder.

“He’s got enough practice swords. I thought he’d be safe with Bray, but do you know I caught him scaling the library shelves the other day? The very top. And every time Azriel visits he just ends up taking him flying. Do you know how stressful it is to walk outside and see that great bat toting our baby through the air?” Tilly just sighed.

“Yes, yes, my dear. Very frightening.” She feigned a pout at him, but couldn’t keep the smirk from her face as he huffed indignantly. “Kieran, love, would you like to go on a special trip?” His sweet hazel eyes widened comically, his nodding so violent that Tilly couldn’t help but smile. He loved surprises and adventures and dragons, and he demanded lots of books and stories and playtime revolving around them. Tilly and Eris were both enamored with their son, finding very little fault in anything he did. He was always running circles around everyone in the Forest House, and Alanna liked to point out frequently that it was like seeing a small Lucien running around all over again. Ironically enough, Lucien and Elain’s daughter, Sirene, often reminded Alanna of a young Eris, brooding and quiet and full of fiery temper. Helion liked to joke that perhaps they’d been switched at birth, much to Eris and Lucien’s collective irritation and violent eye rolling. Kyra balanced the two out–a quiet and silly girl who loved climbing trees and painting, and who loved to herd the two younger cousins around the Forest House property.

Sirene, Kieran, and Kyra, despite their differences, were inseparable when the families got together. Lucien and Eris had been tentatively rebuilding a relationship and long-overdue conversations had been had. While there was some lingering awkwardness between all the brothers, apologies had been given and tensions had eased greatly in the past few years. They knew it did Alanna’s heart good to see them overcoming the walls Beron had tried so hard to build between them, so they tried to make an honest effort. To everyone’s surprise, the relationship with the Night Court and their children had evolved as well, the children and parents getting together multiple times a year to catch up on less-than-official business. Ever since Gwyn and Azriel began making more regular trips to Autumn, the hatchet had been buried, and everyone had done their best to move forward. Strangely enough, in the aftermath of war, they’d found themselves becoming less allies and more friends.

“Come on, Mama. Surprise!” He tugged her hand as he jumped off the high wall, and Tilly could practically hear Eris’ heart rate spike behind her. The male had seen centuries of war, torture, and horrors, but nothing gave him more fear than the safety of his rambunctious child. She didn’t think she’d ever loved him more than she did seeing him care so deeply about their son. She’d been right from the very beginning–he was the most wonderful father. She held her hand out to Eris and he took it, winnowing them all through the world to a quiet spot in the deep woods, another wall of stone standing proud against the forest background.

“Ooh, where are we?” Kieran looked around in wonder, the massive trunks of overturned trees and moss-covered rocks an entirely new world to him.

“This is where I first saw your mother.” Eris was smiling, looking at Tilly with love that only seemed to grow over the years sparkling in his eyes.

“Mama was here?”

“Yes, I used to come here to practice my portals when I was a bit older than you. One day, I had an audience.” She shot a smile at him while Kieran climbed the crumbling rock wall, resuming his antics.

“Portals, mama. Like this!” He threw an arm out, casting a circle of flame, jumping into it before they even had a chance to shout, and then dropping out of the sky into Eris’ panicked arms. “Portals!”

Eris and Tilly’s wide eyes found each other immediately while Kieran giggled wildly in Eris’ arms, flailing so he’d drop him back to the ground. Eris obliged, jaw still agape, and Kieran ran back to the wall to play again.

“Well…things certainly won’t be dull now, will they?” Tilly leaned in and kissed Eris on the cheek, then rested her head on his shoulder as he wound his arm around her and placed his hand on her growing belly.

“Things have never been and will never be dull with you, love.”

Taglist (lomls): @cauldronblssd @queercontrarian @byyalady @thelovelymadone @clockwork-ashes @lovingkelj @lilah-asteria

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris x oc #eris vanserra #eris acotar #vanserra brothers #flame of autumn #arranged marriage #allies to lovers #eris vanserra x oc #acotar smut #Eris smut #eris vanserra fluff #Eris gets his happy ending

53 notes · View notes

sonics-atelier · 2 months

Text

Elain's day out : Exploring Tortuga

Summary: Elain, now a member of the Exiles goes out to explore tortuga with a very handsome captain, They return ever more so in love with each other. Pirate Elucien AU.

a/n : Hello 👋 Pirate Elucien have been on my mind for a long time so here you go. Also I might make this into a series so let me know your thoughts.

For @elucienweekofficial Day 3 : Adventures

Elain stood on the deck of the Firebird, the sea breeze tousling her hair as she watched the pirate stronghold of Tortuga come into view. The Firebird’s crew, known as the Exiles, had become her new family after she escaped her dreadful fiancé. As the ship’s healer and cook, she had found a place among them, mending wounds and preparing meals with a grace and competence that had quickly earned their respect.

The ship's captain, Lucien, approached her, his singular eye keen and observant. Despite the rough life of a pirate, he carried an air of nobility. “Tortuga awaits, Miss Elain. Fancy a tour of the island?”

Elain smiled, her heart lifting at the prospect of exploring. “Indeed, Captain. I would be most delighted.”

Lucien offered his arm, and together they disembarked, stepping into the lively chaos of Tortuga. The island was a riot of colors and sounds, with merchants hawking their wares and sailors brawling in the streets. Elain’s sassy nature quickly came to the fore, matching Lucien’s fiery disposition.

They wandered through the bustling marketplace, where Elain’s sharp wit and charm left merchants both amused and exasperated. Lucien found himself chuckling at her antics, appreciating the spirit she displayed. They stopped at various stalls, where Elain purchased trinkets and curiosities, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Their tour eventually led them to a rowdy tavern, where they decided to rest for a while. Inside, the atmosphere was raucous, filled with laughter and the clinking of tankards. As they found a table, a coarse-looking sailor sneered at Lucien’s eye patch.

“Well, if it ain’t the one-eyed captain. Must be hard to see with only one peeper, eh?"

Before Lucien could respond, Elain stood, her eyes flashing with indignation. “How dare you insult Captain Lucien? He has more courage and honor in his single eye than you could ever dream of possessing. Apologize at once, you insolent cur!”

The tavern fell silent, all eyes on the fiery woman who had so fearlessly defended her captain. The sailor, taken aback by her vehement rebuke, muttered an apology and slunk away. Lucien watched her with a newfound admiration, impressed by her fierce loyalty.

“Thank you, Elain,” he said softly, once the tavern returned to its usual din. “Your words mean more than you know.”

She smiled, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. “It was nothing, Captain. No one insults my crew and gets away with it.”

As they made their way back to the Firebird, laden with Elain’s purchases, they were met by Vassa and Jurian. The two Exiles couldn’t resist teasing them.

“Look at Lucien, carrying all of Elain’s things,” Jurian remarked with a grin. “He’s like her loyal dog.”

Vassa laughed, adding, “Indeed, Captain, you seem rather devoted to our new healer.”

Lucien smirked, his gaze warm as it met Elain’s. “And I am glad to be hers,” he replied, his tone earnest.

Elain felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words, not a flutter but a steady, reassuring presence. She glanced at Lucien, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “And I am glad to have you by my side,” she said softly. She had no idea just how enamored she was, and neither did he.

- @sonics-atelier 2024 , do not repost or reuse in any way , shape or form.

20 notes · View notes

animezinglife · 3 months

Text

Gifts of the Sea

Acelia had never expected to be a High Lord's mate.

Genre: Fluff/General/Romance Post-canon, Tarquin x OC one-shot featuring the backstory between Tarquin and Acelia. This is a companion piece to Late Nights in Summer (recommended reading to provide context). Please do not re-post this anywhere. Special thanks to @lucienarcheron, @zenkindoflove, @crazy-ache, @teddyhoneybear, and all else who've offered such sweet support of my Elucien fics. I hope you don't mind me trying something new! Gifts of the Sea is now featured in the Summer One-Shots Collection on AO3! Click here to read. A bonus moodboard can be found here.

Acelia hadn’t missed the look in Elain Archeron’s eyes when the female had spoken about her mate. To call it enamored would’ve been an understatement: she’d been practically glowing every time she spoke of Lucien, and neither she nor Cresseida had missed it.

The more Elain drank, the more amusing she had become.

Neither Acelia nor the princess had had any reservations about returning her to him in her state: Lucien was a good male, and she would’ve known it even if Tarquin had never confided his trust in the male with her. Though she knew her mate didn’t have a perfect track record when it came to trust, he had strong instincts when it came to character.

Any lessons he’d had left to learn where his easy confidence in others had once been concerned, Feyre Archeron had taught him otherwise.

Acelia respected the balance her mate ruled the Summer Court with: he believed in giving trust and chances, yet knew when to be firm and what boundaries needed to be set. He was far from an iron-fist ruler, instead a casual and respected High Lord who wore his youth as plainly as his kindness.

She loved that about him.

She might even appreciate it more if not for her own roaring headache. Unlike her new friend, Acelia was accustomed to Summer drinks, but still coming off the rush of her mating ceremony, she’d still had a bit too much.

She rested a hand against her head as Tarquin sat beside her on the chaise and handed her a goblet of water. She took it, swirling its contents and taking a deep breath of the cool, salty air.

Acelia had never expected to be a High Lord’s mate; had never anticipated she might one day lounge on a palace balcony overlooking the ocean nursing an alcohol-induced headache. She breathed in deeply and took a small sip before downing the goblet’s contents and letting out a relaxed sigh. Silently, Tarquin took it from her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She turned slightly and kissed his hand, taking in his familiar, comforting scent of salt and citrus.

She had been born in Summer, too: shared many of the same characteristics of the court’s High Fae as her mate and Cresseida did. Though unlike them, she’d been born to a humble family: a fisherman father and a mother who ran their small market shop. She’d begun helping them with both as soon as she’d been old enough, assuming she’d one day sail the seas herself or run the shop alongside her mother.

Being a High Lord’s mate–loving and marrying him–had never been in the picture.

Acelia smirked slightly: her parents still didn’t know what to make of the ordeal either and had no idea what to even do with their new income. They’d opted to stay in their village but visited often, and while they’d insisted they didn’t need a more lavish shop, she was glad they’d at least invested in a newer, sturdier fishing boat, and that her father had even been able to hire some help. Most of all, she was glad they’d finally begun to indulge in vacations and rest.

Tarquin’s voice interrupted her thoughts, his voice as soft as the mist from the sea. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a storm,” she replied, unable to resist smiling back as his lips curved into a smile. “I’m upright and coherent, at least.”

“I’m surprised you’re drunk at all.” He paused, his brow furrowing slightly. “My cousin didn’t pressure you, did she? I know she enjoys her fun.”

“Not at all.” It had been a running joke between them that despite her small stature, Acelia could hold her drink as well as any male. It often surprised others how well given how rarely she touched alcohol compared to most Fae–drinks in Summer didn’t run cheap, and Acelia had never quite shaken her frugal ways no matter how generous Tarquin was. “I really like them. Elain seems quite different than how you described her sister.”

Tarquin’s blue eyes softened as he seemed to drift into thought. For a moment, he was quiet. “Feyre was in a difficult situation, and she wasn’t sure if she could trust me or not.”

“That didn’t stop you from trusting her.”

“No.” Tarquin smirked slightly, taking her emptied goblet and setting it aside. “But I’m glad to leave that mess behind us. Even if I’ll always have extra security when she and Rhysand visit. Just in case.”

“I’d question your judgment if you didn’t.” Acelia’s heart fluttered as his smirk turned to a smile: her favorite one of his, all softness and a subtle shyness she would almost call boyish. She felt their bond flowing through them like a current, pulling them to each other in a way that she imagined would be futile to resist. She had never imagined the Mother, the Cauldron, or whatever forces determined such fates would gift her such a thing: mating bonds were the sort of romantic fantasies she’d read about in books as a child or sung about in old sailors’ shanties.

Such things certainly were not the fates of daughters of a village fisherman; of the keeper of a small, run-down shop.

And yet she’d sensed it when the High Lord had visited their village; had spoken with every fisherman, every blacksmith, every sailor, and every shopkeeper. She had seen the way her mother had clutched her chest when Tarquin had spoken to her, as if aware of the same, unexplainable force Acelia had been feeling.

At the time, she’d assumed she’d merely been overwhelmed in the presence of a High Lord.

But Tarquin had looked back as he’d been leaving the shop, his brow furrowed and eyes searching for an answer neither of them yet knew.

He had written to her. Their conversations had lengthened through letters, though there had only been so much a High Lord could say through such means. Acelia had found herself spilling aspects of herself she’d never shared with anyone: of her love of the sea, of the old myths and legends that filled her mind and heart as a child, and of her hopes to one day see Adriata with her own eyes. Somehow, she swore she could feel his quiet, shaking laugh when she'd shared the time a pirate had tried to rob her family's shop, and in her panic, she'd hit him over the head with a bucket and knocked him out cold.

To her surprise, Tarquin had shared with her, too: had spoken to her of his love of the sea at night when all was quiet; of the myths and legends that had scared him as a boy, and of his deepest fears that he might never be worthy of the role he’d found himself in. When he had visited their village again, she’d had the sneaking suspicion he’d had an ulterior motive despite his routine of speaking with every villager.

His eyes had lingered on her a bit too long, and that afternoon she had found herself sailing out with the High Lord of Summer in her father’s old, weathered fishing boat. He had been remarkably easy to talk to; his smile warm and his eyes making her heart race in ways it never had.

Acelia still had never expected the letter to come inviting her to visit the city, or how he phrased it so carefully.

I do not ask this of you as a high lord.

I hope we may always speak as friends.

She had arrived in Adriata only weeks later to a whirlwind: a flurry of introductions by a mutually excited and suspicious Cresseida, a humble if not somewhat comical introduction of Varian, whose hair had been partially singed off in what had only been described to her as, "an incident with the Illyrian bastards."

And all the while, Acelia had fallen in love with the city; its people. The people of Adriata, a peculiar mix of Fae and human refugees still lingering from the war with Hybern, lived vastly different lives than what she’d ever known. Yet there was a warmth to them, and a compassion and caring she’d both seen and felt in Tarquin that had begun to draw her to him.

In ways she hadn’t been sure would qualify as friendly.

She still hadn’t known what to call it the first time he’d kissed her. That had been during her third visit after a full year of communication through letters and Tarquin’s visits. She was sure she was beginning to love him–he was the sort of male who proved easy to love. Though Acelia had thought she’d loved males before: a young apprentice from her village when she’d been the tender age of forty, and another a sailor from the islands that dotted Summer’s seas.

It hadn’t been until she’d unceremoniously fallen into the water off the strange, standing board with sails that Tarquin and Varian had been trying to teach her to use that she’d understood. Tarquin had dived off his own board after her, his strong arms circling her waist as they’d drifted together beneath the surface. Acelia had taken in his beautiful features: his dark skin, white hair that flowed around him, and the eyes that seemed to see more of her than she’d ever known possible.

She wasn’t even sure which of them had closed the distance: only that his kiss had awakened something in them both that had lay dormant from the moment they’d met. Her eyes had snapped open to find him watching her in every bit as much shock, and when they’d finally resurfaced and felt the sun and salty air on them again, Acelia had understood.

Mates.

The word echoed in her mind even now as Tarquin took her hand in his, leaning her in and placing a kiss against her white braids. She took in the hands that held each other: the shell, pearl, and sapphire ring that glimmered on her finger and folded her body against his, taking in his scent and the sound of his heartbeat. He held her close, his steady breathing as soothing and familiar to her as the waves below.

It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been in the village or here with him now: he was her gift, and she was home.

#acotar #tarquin x oc #gifts of the sea #tarquin #tarquin acotar #a court of thorns and roses #original character #tarquin x acelia #summer court #the summer court

16 notes · View notes

aldbooks · 3 months

Note

For the ask game- #16 share a snippet of something you're working on!

Oooh. How about another snippet of Remembrance of Regret

"If you disapprove of the attention he's getting," Helion mused. "You could just… turn away. Or- you could do something about it."

Elain sputtered. "I- couldn't care less what he does. He is free to do as he pleases. He certainly doesn't need my approval."

"Indeed? Is that why you've been drilling holes into each female who has dared to approach him for the last half hour?"

"I have not," Elain said, even as her gaze bored into the face of yet another female, a blonde this time, who leaned against the unoccupied arm of his chair, thrusting her bosom in his face as she pushed aside of lock of his hair and toyed with the earring at the tip of his pointed ear.

She sat on his left where his golden eye roved over her, though she appeared undeterred by the gruesome scars covering half of his face. None of them seemed deterred by it. Many even seemed to be enamored of the scars. As she watched, the blond ran a red tipped nail across his brow, skimming the edge of the scars and made some comment that drew a smirk from him.

Elain realized she was glaring as Helion said dryly, "of course not."

"You approve of this behavior?" she asked, just barely keeping the snap out of her tone. "He is your heir, a prince. You believe this is appropriate behavior of a representative of this court?"

Helion gave her a dry look. "Flower, you've been in my court long enough now to know the answer to that. I came by my reputation honestly, after all. Like father, like son."

Elain felt her cheeks flame hot as anger surged. She had indeed been in the Day Court long enough to know exactly what sort of mischief Helion liked to get up to, though he had not engaged in any of it since receiving word of Beron's death in anticipation of finally claiming his mate. The thought of Lucien doing any of the things she'd seen Helion do...

Helion laughed, reading her thoughts. "If it bothers you so much," he lifted a brow. "Do something about it."

Elain gulped the last few swallows of wine in her cup hoping they would cool her and knowing they would do the opposite. Before she had time to think, she slammed the cup down on the tray of a passing server and pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring Helion's deep chuckle that followed her.

#elucien #elain x lucien #elucien week ask game

19 notes · View notes

jules-writes-stories · 2 months

Text

Elucien Week | Day 5 | Masks | Chapter 5 on AO3

A Heart of Gold

A Retelling of King Midas, Lucien x Elain

The smell of horseflesh and sweet grass wafted back to Lucien, sunlight streaming through the windows as dust motes floated down. He was watching her, as she explained the herbal powders to the stable master. The High Fae’s dark eyes were watching Elain, like two moons, reflecting the sun in all its glory. When she thanked him, he blushed, and looked so enamored, that Lucien wanted to throw him out of the building. A muscle feathered in his jaw. His.

No, not his, he amended. She could never be his.

At least the stubborn woman had the sense to wear the boots Lucien had procured for her. He had left her a new dress, and boots with the servants, as a final gesture of goodwill. The dress was the color of a jasmine blossom, and he had seen Elain slipping her hand along its silken fabric, her eyes full of pleasure. And here she was, wearing her old, faded yellow dress. A clear statement that she did not appreciate waking up alone. And still, she was the most beautiful woman in the room. Cauldron, Lucien recalled seeing her knee deep in a creek, wearing rags, and he’d been sunk. Elain was lovely in anything, anywhere. He loosed a breath and grounded himself.

She breezed past him, out into the meadows, where Meallan, Dhahabi and Silenus were grazing on sweet clover, and he heard her breath hitch. It was the same sound she had made last night, when he had kissed along her neck, when she had melted in his arms.

Her warm, brown eyes took in the rolling hills of the meadow, covered in sweet clover and wild grasses, dotted with small yellow flowers. Meallan stood, in all his glory, glossy black coat gleaming like obsidian in the morning sun. Corded muscles and strength, his long black mane flowed in the cool breeze. He made a huffing sound, and spread his enormous feathered wings. He stomped his hoof twice.

Dhahabi looked up from grazing, her black eyes sparkling with intelligence. The curve of her long, graceful neck turned, revealing a white mane, intricately braided with golden ribbons and wildflowers. The female pegasus cantered over, feathered wings tucked closely to her curved back, ears perked up in interest. And trailing behind, was little Silenus, clip clopping along. He stopped twice to sniff at the ground, before skipping along towards Lucien and Elain.

Elain’s smile was like the sun breaking through a veil of clouds, the dawn’s first light. “Silenus,” she called out. And the little pegasus bounded towards her, his muzzle pushing against her skirts. The beautiful human laughed, kneeling down to pet along his face, running her fingers down the braids in his mane.

Dhahabi approached, and Lucien tensed. Pegasus mothers were fiercely possessive. And Dhahabi was no exception. She and Meallan had waited centuries to finally have a colt, and she was bound to be nervous, having lost Silenus so recently.

Yet what happened next left Lucien speechless. For Dhahabi, most prized pegasus of Prythian’s Sun King, powerfull, untamed and precious, stood before Elain, and bowed. She lowered her head, and in a single, graceful move, dropped onto her front knee, extending the other leg in front of her, hind quarters raised up. Face lowered, her long, silken mane was spread along the meadow clover. Meallan followed his mate’s lead, mirroring her position. The pair remained in this prone pose for several moments, as if to say. Thank you. We honor you.

Lucien had never seen the like. These ancient, majestic creatures, who only bowed to the greatest of warriors, the most honored Kings and Queens of Old. And to Elain Archeron, a human girl, in a faded dress. Elain, who had found a creature with a broken wing, and healed it with her small hands and her soft heart.

This was his mate, his equal, in the eyes of the Mother. A human, whose heart and spirit was indominable in its fearless kindness, encased in a mortal body as fragile as a flower. A body that he would watch wither, and die, taking that heart and spirit with it.

Lucien wanted to rage at the cruelty, the injustice of it all. He blinked back the tears that threatened, his throat tight with the need to scream.

Because there was Elain, practically glowing, the sun behind her, slender frame silhouetted through a soft yellow dress. The massive pegasus bowing at her feet. This was his mate. A queen, with a heart of gold. And he was about to let her go.

Read Chapter 5 on AO3

@the-darkestminds @shadowqueenjude @prythian-fashion @elucienweekofficial @zenkindoflove

#elucienweek2024 #lucien x elain #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien fanfiction #lucien acotar #elain acotar #elain x lucien

15 notes · View notes

dawneternal · 7 months

Text

Take the World in Your Hands Eris x Elain | pt. 3

Summary: Eris's brothers catch wind of his proposal to Nesta. They plan to find and deliver her to their father as a gift, surely winning his favor. Their plan takes a turn when they kidnap the wrong Archeron sister and Eris finds her in the Autumn Court dungeon.

all aboard the crack ship???

Warnings: None

Notes: This part is not the best but we're building up to things!! I am trying to turn their handful of days together into a slow burn

Word Count: 1.8k

Ao3 Link / Masterlist

While Elain slept, Eris rummaged through the cabin and managed to find a balm that helped combat the effects of faebane. It was not as good as the updated antidote that the Dawn Court had created, but it would speed things up. Enough that he insisted he was capable of cooking dinner, though he still dragged a chair to the stove to sit on while he stirred.

Elain had slept most of the day, waking in the late afternoon as the sun became more gentle, filling the cabin with golden light instead of a harsh glare off the snow. Eris tried not to be too endeared by her sleepy eyes and messy braid, but a small part of him wanted her to be his. To wrap the sleepy girl in his arms and press a kiss to her forehead.

Everything that made her adorable had faded into a darker, more sinful shade as she had bandaged his ribs. Eris was never one to feel shameful of any form of debauchery. But her touch, so light it could almost be construed as innocent, had set him ablaze with a strange shame he had never felt. Like he didn't deserve it. He had assumed from her shy nature that any touching and teasing from her was a rare gift.

Now, sitting on a chair in front of the stove, he shook his head free of his thoughts. But not before feeling a bit of pity for his little brother, who he knew had not yet won her heart. If he had Lucien as enamored as he felt, he must be suffering.

Elain had begrudgingly agreed to let him cook, as long as he stayed sitting. But she was waiting until the morning to decide if he was ready for a trip into town.

"You take your shopping very seriously," She said when he protested, "you'd fit into the Night Court well, in that way."

"You can make your own dinner if you compare me to them again," Eris grumbled.

"I would have made it myself, but you insisted." She sat on the floor of the kitchen, back against a counter cabinet. She had pulled her knees up to her chest and tucked her legs under the fabric of her skirt.

"Yes, because you made the last two." He had found sandwiches pre-made in the fridge when he grew hungry around lunch time. Another thing she had probably done to pass the time while she couldn't sleep.

"It's supposed to be a lady's job, anyways." Elain said, tossing her braid over her shoulder. Even though she really believe that.

"How very archaic for the Night Court," Eris smirked.

"But not the for the Autumn Court, I suppose." Elain regretted the words as soon as they had come out. She wasn't sure where the indignation had come from it. It had been almost like an instinct.

She watched as Eris face twitched, and then a calm mask of detachment slipped into place. One she had not seen since he had come to her cell. By the mother, was that only yesterday?

"Not for Beron, you mean." Eris said quietly, his voice far away and icy to match the mask.

"I'm sorry," Elain whispered, shrinking into herself, "I didn't mean-"

"It's ready," He interrupted. He spooned stew into a bowl and held it out to her, keeping his eyes on the stove. Then he filled his own and winnowed the few feet to the kitchen table, sitting with his back to her.

Elain stood still for a moment, watching the steam curling up from her bowl. Apologizing again would do no good. She knew he didn't want to be pitied. He wore his pride around him like a solid shield.

Standing in the silence, her eyes drifted toward the curve of his neck and the small sliver of muscle that was visible above the collar of his shirt. His red hair fell in soft waves against his neck. He may be leaner than the Night Court warriors, but his sleeves were still snug around his biceps.

Eris sighed, pulling Elain from her thoughts. As insistent as she may be about propriety, Elain was not above admiring beautiful things.

"Come and sit," He said, though the warmth had not returned to his voice yet.

"Thank you for the soup," Elain scurried to sit behind him.

Then it was quiet again. Only the sounds of the crackling fire and the still-bubbling pot on the stove, mixing with the clink of spoons against ceramic bowls.

"Thought for a thought?" Elain asked, tentative. The thing Feyre always said when Elain was quiet. Eris said nothing for a moment, but he did seem to be considering.

"There are a lot of things about the Autumn Court that I wish were different," He sighed. Elain had a feeling that this was the Eris that most other people saw. Closed off, moping. An impenetrable wall of gloom around him.

"But there are things you love about it," Elain prodded.

"It is beautiful," He relented after another pause, voice finally beginning to soften, "And peaceful - in some parts. And I do love my hounds."

"Hounds?" Elain's eyes lit up.

Eris looked at her for a moment, more ice thawing by the second. He stepped across the room and grabbed a photo frame from the desk. He placed the frame on the table in front of her and sat back down.

Elain picked it up gingerly. A weathered, sepia photo of a dozen sleek, beautiful hounds sitting in a row, in a frame of carved maple leaves. Foliage of all colors piled up on the ground around them, dappled light across the whole image. Elain looked back at him, beaming.

"What was your thought?" He asked, his eyes smiling back at her. She liked this Eris more. The one who was tender and not ashamed of loving things. The one who teased her and talked to her almost like a friend.

"I'm thinking it's a shame how much pretending you do," She said, setting the frame on the table. Her boldness could push him right back into his fortress, but she took the risk.

"Maybe so, but that's a thought about me, not about you." Eris shrugged.

"There's not supposed to be rules to it. But ask me a question, if you want to know something about me."

"What was the falling out in the night court?" He eyed her as he said it, watching the hint of a scowl pass over her face.

Indeed, she was struggling not to let hypocrisy win and close in on herself in response.

"It's embarrassing," Elain protested.

"You know plenty of embarrassing things about me," Eris countered, gaze still on her as he sipped another spoonful of soup.

"I do not. I barely know you."

"Fine, then I'll tell you something embarrassing about myself next."

"You're a busy body and a gossip," Elain rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, arms crossed. She kept her eyes on the table as she spoke. "I heard of something Rhysand had done. Something that changed the course of things for me a great deal. It happened quite a while ago, so I probably shouldn't care. But I do, anyways. Especially because he never would have told me himself. No one would have. Nesta let it slip because she had too much to drink, and she probably only knew because she squeezed it out of Cassian."

"What did he do?" Eris asked, engrossed.

"He forbid someone I cared for from seeing me," Elain gritted out between her teeth. She flashed him a look, warning him not to ask any follow up questions.

But he asked, anyways, "The shadowsinger?"

"How did you know?" Elain cried, blush creeping up her neck and the points of her ears.

"Well he wouldn't forbid a man from seeing his mate, so it couldn't be Lucien. Unless it's a stranger to me, that leaves Azriel. Everyone else is mated."

"Azriel is mated too," She said, voice full of bitter longing, "But he wasn't back then. They're on a honeymoon, now. Rhysand was furious with Nesta, though they're always furious with each other over something. She and Cassian have been visiting Illyrian camps since then, and Rhysand is back and forth between the Hewn City and Velaris, basically hiding from me."

"So you were alone," Eris finished softly.

"You can see how I might prefer to be here," Elain offered a weak smile.

"Stuck in a tiny cabin with a grumpy Autumn heir, hiding from his barbaric brothers and the overbearing High Lord of Night. I'm flattered."

"Tell me something embarrassing," Elain demanded.

"I tend to snore," He confessed, the corners of his mouth creeping up into a smile.

"I know that already!" She cried.

"My point stands, lady. You already know many embarrassing things about me." Such a crooning tone and teasing grin. A little part of her wanted to smack it off his face. He would probably enjoy it, the deviant.

"You do not play fair," Elain snatched her dish and brought it to the sink.

"But I thought there weren't any rules," Eris followed, standing far too close once again. How he loved to pin her, this way.

"Must everything always be a game?" Elain tried to pretend he was not so close, desperately pushing down the heat in her body.

"Something tells me you're not as averse to games as you try to seem," He answered, his breath hot against her ear. He was close enough to see the goosebumps that spread over her skin.

They were still for a moment, Eris waiting to see what she would do. Elain trying to make a decision as her heart thundered in her chest.

"What are you doing?" She whispered, turning her head enough to catch a glimpse of him in her peripheral.

Eris's smirk faded as if her words had woken him from a trance. He stepped back and opened his mouth to say something, only to close it again and leave her there in the kitchen. He grabbed a book and settled on the sofa, beginning to read with rapt attention.

As soon as he stepped away, the air around Elain felt cold and empty. It brought her back to that Solstice night, standing by herself in the hallway. Lonely and rejected. A mistake.

Overcome by a blend of unpleasant feelings, Elain sat down by the fire and rested her chin on her knees, basking in the warmth of the fire to replace Eris's closeness.

At some point, she had laid on her side and fallen asleep. When she woke again, in the middle of the night, she was back on the comfortable sofa, quilt tucked in tightly around her. Eris's soft breathing across the room lulled her back to sleep. She dreamt of autumn sunshine, the smell of fallen leaves, and of hot cider on a cold fall night.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elain archeron #eris fanfic #eris fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris x elain #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acosf #a court of silver flames #autumn court #vanserra brothers #pro eris vanserra #acotar crack ship #acotar crack fic

20 notes · View notes