Daylight - (Eris Vanserra one-shot) The smallest of stones, the greatest of ripples. Eris learns that Beron is not Lucien's father.
Only Embers - Eris lies to Beron to protect his mother's secret (short one-shot).
Wildflowers - Eris goes to visit Lucien in the Spring Court and instead just bothers Tamlin (one-shot).
Mirrors - The Lady of Autumn has a difficult conversation with her eldest son (one-shot).
First Date - (Gwyn x Az one-shot) Gwyn and Az go on their first date.
The Little Things - (Elain x Lucien one-shot) Elain knows how important the little things are when it comes to her relationship with Lucien.
Unknown - (Helion x LoA one-shot) The Lady of Autumn meets with Helion.
All Things End - (Helion x LoA) Part I // Part II
All You Have is Your Fire - (Elain x Lucien multi-chapter, in progress)
Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV // Part V // Part VI // Part VII // Part VIII // Part IX // Part X // Part XI // Part XII // Part XIII // Part XIV // Part XV // Part XVI // Part XVII //
Itās Starfall and the first time Elain and Lucien will see eachother in person after writing to eachother for three months. Elain has a plan to get him alone but Feyre intercepts before she can even talk to him. Will she be able to go through with her plan?
Summary: As far as Elain knew, in all of her ten years of collected knowledge, she was the only person who frequented these woods. She'd never seen footprints before. Not ones this recent, not ones that the forest guided her to.
That curious sensation in her chest grew stronger. A stumbling beat. A beckoning.
Go, the rustling leaves called to her. Go see.
She had never seen him before, but Elain knew at once who he was.
What he was.
A Vanserra.
Or: That time an eerie meet cute in the forest changed their lives
A contribution to @elucienweekofficial Day 3: Peak yearning
Read on AO3 ć» Series Masterlist ć» Previous Chapter
-
4 years earlier
Time was a linear thing to most people.
They were born. And then they died. The moments that happened in between were an orderly chain connecting each point to the next. Every moment was distinct. There were no intersections, no overlaps, no loops.
Elain didn't always experience time that way.
Past, present, and future were sometimes indistinguishable from each other. Layered, and occurring simultaneously. While her physical body was mired to the present, her senses were wayward and drifted wherever they deemed most necessary. It had taken a long time for Elain to recognize when she grew disconnected from the present, longer to master how to tether herself back.
On the day she woke to thousands of names clinging to her like cobwebs, she wondered if the present was something she wanted to be tied to at all. What she wouldn't give to return to the simple days of sneaking off to the forest, when war was so far on the horizon that the only futures she saw where flashes of giggling on Graysen's arm.
How could she walk down the hall and smile at the servants as if she hadn't seen the temple razed to the ground? She could go to the High Priestess, explain to her that she saw the temple's wall collapse. That there only a handful of sunrises before the temple was captured by force, after which Beron Vanserra's army would systemically pillage each of their rooms. He would demand they turn over the seer, and the temple would face his wrath if the High Priestess refused.
Every conversation Elain had tried to broker with the High Priestess had fallen on deaf ears. Even with the severity of what Elain had seen, she knew another conversation would end no differently. The High Priestess would insist their army was thriving, that these were only bad dreams, not prophecies.
But what was the point in all this effort to protect Elain if she was to burn alongside the temple anyway?
Elain knew she was standing on a precipice. There were many paths forward, even ones she had not yet Seen. But the path she chose was one of comfort. Familiarity. It involved feigning sickness for the day and climbing out her bedroom window.
This was a path she walked a thousand times before. And for that reason, she would never walk it alone. There were a thousand other versions of Elain walking beside her, some of them young, some of them older. All of them were greeting the forest with a smile and an open heart. Their presence steadied her, reassured her that this was the right path.
The forest had never steered her wrong before.
Even ifā¦ even if she was a little nervous to seeĀ himĀ again. Assuming he decided to follow her trail, assuming he even saw it, this would be their third time meeting in the forest. But on this occasion, there was no injury forcing his hand. He would need to come to her simply because he was curious enough to do so.
She was unarmed. The thought occurred to her on her third hour of waiting, perched comfortably on a branch near the bluebell carpet where they first met. There was nothing stopping him from assembling a team of men to follow the path she laid, to try to attack her while her guard was down.
Elain indulged the thought for all of a double-heartbeat before she giggled to herself at the absurdity. The future was always a bit murky when she thought of Lucien Vanserra, like a churning sea protecting the secrets within its depths. Even so, she knew there wasn't a single outcome in which Lucien betrayed her location.
He was a Vanserra. He was involved in this conflict to a degree of which she did not yet know. But his heart beat in her chest, and the rot of Autumn had not penetrated it. Its sound was pure. Its presence was warm. There was kindness in him. Softness that perhaps was unsafe to let his court see.
In the forest, it would thrive.
Did he feel the call, too? When the mist parted way, did it feel like coming home at last? Elain didn't know if anyone else could feel as settled as she did in a place so mercurial, but she wanted to ask him. She held on to that question, not wanting to forget it, but by the fifth hour of waiting, she was beginning to lose hope.
Until a branch cracked on the threshold of the treeline. Her heart stilled, but the other kept beating.
He's here,Ā the forest said.Ā He's coming.
His footsteps were quiet, but she heard each one, a steady tap beneath her ribs. Closer and closer. Red hair dipped as he swung beneath a low hanging branch. Uninjured, he was no longer a fox in coloring alone. He moved like one, swift and graceful. Primrose flowers brimmed from his close fist. Those clever eyes swept the forest in search of the next, and she kept to her hiding spot as she watched him pluck another from the trail.
Lucien paused when he reached the base of the tree. Seeing that there were no more flowers, he cast his ensnaring eyes upward, pinning her to the spot with a devilish smile.
"I didn't know these trees fruited such divine flowers," he said in greeting.
For having done nothing but lounge for hours, she was alarmingly breathless.
"Primrose doesn't grow from trees," she couldn't help but correct.
His smile broadened. "I wasn't speaking of the primrose."
"You're very charming for a man who's preparing to raze my home."
Lucien's smile fell, and he turned away before she could mourn its loss. "So you know. My father's lost his patience. He's given the High Priestess time to turn over the seer, but now he feels he must take matters into his own hands. Even if that means taking your temple apart in search of her."
"Can you do anything to stop him?"
"I've tried, in what ways I can. All my brothers have. We didn't want to wage this battle against the temple, but my father, he isā¦" He trailed off, and Elain wondered if his mind was drifting to another time as hers so often did. Whatever memory he saw, he shook it away and continued, "He will not stop until he finds her, Elain."
"What makes him think we have a seer?"
Lucien turned back to her. She'd thought this might be her opportunity to at last admire his handsome face without seeing it pinched in agony, but it was still there. And this time, there were no poultices to pack in his wound. This conflict was being inflicted onĀ herĀ people, but one would not think so from the grief in his expression.
"I told him," he confessed. "When I was just a boy. He wanted to know how I found my way back from the forest, and I admitted a girl laid a path for me. I didn't understand the implications, but my father explained to me that only a seer can navigate these woods. He's been obsessed with finding you ever since."
Elain's eyes burned. She knew it was the truth because she could still feel their bargain cording around her ribs. He could not lie to her, even if he wanted to.
"Why haven't you told your father who I am?"
"Because I fear what will happen to you." He reached upward for her hand, and she let him take it, breath held as his satin touch swept across her knuckles. "Twice now, you've saved my life. I am honor-bound to repay the favor."
Warm. His touch was so very warm. Like laying in a spot of sun on a bright summer day. Elain stared at their hands, the way her much smaller one was completely enveloped in his, and wondered what it would be like to fall into that heat. Would her mind still be split in three directions, or would she finally be anchored to the present?
"And what will you do when he breeches the temple's walls?" She asked.
Lucien's gaze was caught on their hands, too. But his expression did not convey the same honey-drenched thoughts Elain had been occupying. His brow was drawn, as though troubled. She supposed they were discussing a troubling subject, after all, and it was rather girlish of her to be diverting attention to something as trivial as holding hands with a boy.
A forest away, men were stabbing each other with swords. Ash of the dead was being scattered on the breeze.
It didn't seem such a trivial thing, in the face of it all, to reach for something soft. To hold it as long as she could.
"I'll meet you in these woods," he proposed. "While my father searches for you in the temple, I can help you sneak into the Autumn Court. You can establish a life in a nearby village, live under his nose. I'll make sure you're kept safe."
As he spoke, the timbre of his voice strummed upon the bargain's thread, an indolent musician plucking a string simply for the desire of being heard.Ā Truth, it sang. Then another pluck, more agitated.Ā Hear me.
"And my sisters?" She pressed. "The temple?"
Lucien winced. "If my father doesn't find the seer, he'll destroy the temple. But you can get your sisters out before that happens. Hide them in these woods."
"My sisters won't abandon the other priestesses. Archerons are not known to flee from a fight, even in the face of slaughter."
"Then trick them," Lucien suggested. "MakeĀ them leave."
Elain would have snapped her hand away no faster than if he'd scalded her.Ā Make themĀ leave? Her lips parted to chide him, but a stuttered beat against her ribs gave her pause. Could she really scold a man for being heartless when it was her own chest that it occupied?
Look, the forest said, and she peered down her lashes at the male still cradling his hand around the space hers had been. His fingers closed around the empty air, as if he might still capture the essence of her. Hold on to it as long as he could.
He is scared. For you.
She did not know if the revelation was the forest's or her own, but it struck her that Lucien would be willing to makeĀ anyĀ suggestion that spared her from his father. He did not feel he owed anything to her sisters, but he felt he owed a life debt to her.
There was a much simpler solution. One he was refusing to acknowledgeāperhaps she had been, too. Elain was not as brave as her sisters, but that was something she could overcome in her love of them.
"If your father is given his seer, will the bloodshed end?"
Lucien's posture grew taut. "Elain, don't even think about it."
"IfĀ your father is given his seer," she repeated, "willĀ the bloodshed end?"
He was fighting the answer. A vein strained in his throat. The muscles in his jaw flexed. But the vow he'd made to her in this forest was bound by the might of the earth, and the wind would force the words from his lungs if that was what it required.
"Yes," he gasped, sweat beading on his brow. "If you surrender yourself, our army will retreat."
-
"This is a bad idea, Elain."
It was sure to be if evenĀ Feyreāthe purveyor of bad ideasāthought so.
Elain darted her eyes between both of her sisters. They wore twin expressions of disapproval, which was another ill-omen. A situation ought to be dire, indeed, to find Feyre and Nesta in agreement with each other.
"Help me convince her," she pleaded. "It's the only thing that will save us."
"Are you out of your mind?" Nesta flung her arm towards the tower window, where they had a perfect vantage of the smoke pluming from the lit funeral pyres below. "The Autumn Court will tear you apart. And the High Priestess would sooner burn this temple herself than give you freely to them."
"It's aĀ temporaryĀ solution," Elain stressed. "I'll satisfy Beron's demands long enough for you to safely evacuate the temple. Once you light the signal, I'll escape into the woods and meet you there."
Nesta crossed her arms. "And if they keep you in chains? How will you escape then?"
"Lucien will help me. IĀ knowĀ he will."
Both of her sisters scoffed. They would never understand. They didn't see how haunted he looked to admit he'd set this conflict in motion. That his father would never know a seer lived in this kingdom if she hadn't shown him kindness.
"No Vanserra can be trusted," Feyre said gravely. "You have a soft heart, Elain. He's trying to use it against you to fulfill his father's goal."
"If that's the case, then why didn't he just capture me in the woods?"
Her sisters shared a glance. Then Feyre said, with grating gentleness, "You're the only one who can navigate those woods, Elain. He can't take you from them unwillingly."
For the slightest moment, Elain's view of the forest took the altered shape that it did in everyone else's eyes. A place that was eerie, unsafe, dangerous. She pictured a red-haired man in those woods, but his clever eyes held the sinister edge of a blade. His smile was just as wicked, but the thrill it wracked through her was one of terror, not pleasure.
Was her naivety covering the truth with a softer lense? Or was it their cynicism churning the image, diluting its water with murky sediment?
Elain's heart knew the truth. Hers and Lucien's beat as one. She'd helped him twice without question or hesitation. He would be driven to do the same. That was the only truth she could make peace with.
Regarding her sisters, so they both could read the depth of her sincerity, Elain told them, "There are two paths forward. You can either help me convince the High Priestess of this plan, or I'll sneak away to surrender myself to Beron's army. I know which choice gives the temple the strongest advantage. Do you?"
She waited patiently as her sisters digested the ultimatum. They studied her, they studied each other. Nesta's eyes even drifted back to the funeral pyres she'd gestured to earlier. There was very little change in her expression, but she did set her lips into a thin line.
"Okay," Nesta said. "I'll help you."
Feyre looked far more stricken, but she nodded. "I will, too."
"Thank you," Elain whispered. She mustered a smile that conveyed far more courage than she felt. "Then, let's go convince the High Priestess to offer my hand to Lucien Vanserra."
Ā Present Day
The boat swayed with the rise and fall of the sea.
Through the stern window in the captain's quarters, Elain could feel the rhythmic swish of water as it swept against the hull. Again and again, like the sea was trailing its knuckles against the wood, just to remind the crew she was still there. Warning,Ā you are alive because I allow you to be. I can change my mind at any moment.
"You used to say my name sounded like the sea," Lucien mused. He leaned forward on the chair he'd pulled to her bedside, a bowl of seared fish and grain cupped in his palm. "Having heard her song, do you still agree?"
Elain's glare hadn't left her face since the moment she'd woken up in that ox-wagon. Now, she speared it towards the spoon he held toward her lips. It didn't matter that the smell made the back of her mouth water, or that her stomach grumbled loud enough for the both of them to hear. She kept her mouth shut.
With a sigh, Lucien set the spoon back in the bowl. "I won't let you starve yourself, Elain."
"Of course not," she sniped. "Your father won't lift your banishment if you return with an emaciated corpse."
"That's not why I care," he said evenly.
"Isn't it?"
Lucien reached for a waterskin with his other hand. "It isn't." The corkĀ poppedĀ with an easy pry of his thumb, and then the opening was pressed to her lips. "At least drink something."
Having no desire to be bound to a bed of soaked sheets, Elain parted her lips. To his credit, Lucien held the waterskin at a steady angle as she drank, ensuring too much water didn't pour at once. A small amount dribbled at the corner of her mouth when he pulled away, but that was fixed with a swipe of his thumb that lingered at the plump of her bottom lip for a beat too long.
Lucien cleared his throat. "I noticed you didn't answer my question."
"About the sea?" He nodded, and Elain decided to answer if only because it would offer a distraction from the heat still tingling through her lip. "Maybe I said that because I was really hearing this moment. Maybe it was a warning me that our fates would be bound, and you would be my captor."
"Captor?" His echo held a sadness that called to her weaker sense, but she refused to give him her pity. Not when she was tied to a bed, trapped in a prison of his making in the middle of the ocean. "I preferred when you called me husband."
"Those words are no different to me. What will I be when you turn me over to your father, wife or captive? You know I'll try to flee at the first opportunity, so what will you do? Keep me chained to our marital bed?"
Lucien narrowed his eyes. "You're the seer between us. You tell me."
Futures couldn't be summoned on a whim, not in the way he was suggesting. She was brought visions as the Cauldron willed it, and though she could often pick up vague senses of where a person's immediate path was heading, with Lucien it was always blank. As if his preferred mask of indifference was rooted down to his soul.
She'd never met a person as guarded as him. There were one or two souls she'd come across on her travels who faced the world through a shield of ice, but Elain could still peer through them on occasion. Perhaps because they were not so layered as Lucien's. Where most people maintained a single barrier between themself and the world, Elain suspected Lucien had built several. Wall after wall after wallāso enclosed that perhaps he no longer knew where the surface was.
And yet, through all those layers of stone, she could still hear the slow, steady beating thatĀ beggedĀ her to listen.Ā I'm still here, it said.Ā Find me.
Elain returned his glare. "I know that right now, you are keeping me restrained. That makes you my captor."
Yanking on the bindings caused the rope to scrape against her raw flesh, but Elain felt the pain was worth if for the remorse that flashed across Lucien's face. She didn't expect him to set the food aside to inspect her wrists. He swore when he saw the angry blisters on her skin.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, hands flying to the knots around the headboard. Elain didn't say anything, too stunned by the way he untied the rope and took both her hands into his own to further examine the wounds. "Elain."
"I didn't think you cared."
Lucien made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, one that fell somewhere between anguish and frustration. She replayed the sound in her mind, trying to puzzle where it landed closer to. Meanwhile, Lucien retrieved his pack from the far side of the cabin and began rifling through it.
It occurred to her that she could have tried to escape during that short moment his back was turned. But they were in the middle of the sea, and if he'd paid off the crew well enough to take residence in the captain's chambers, she could imagine they wouldn't be scrambling to aid her.
"Here," Lucien said, returning to his seat with a tin in hand. "This salve should help."
Elain held out her hand, expecting to take it from him to administer it herself. He surprised her by taking her hand in his, heartbreakingly gentle. With his other hand, he dipped two of his fingers into the salve. Elain hissed when it met her skin. Despite his gentleness, despite knowing it was coming, the pain still prickled through her.
Knowing when pain was coming did not always alleviate it, she found.
"I'm sorry," Lucien said. His voice was solemn. "You're the last person I ever wanted to hurt."
"Then you should have let me go. You should have never come looking for me."
There it was again, that sadness flicking over his face that preyed on her heart. His voice was strained as he said, "IĀ tried. I told myself I could let you go. But I couldn't. ItāyouĀ haunted me. I had to set things right again."
As he spoke, something plucked at her. An old string in her chest. If she tugged on it, she had the sinking sensation it would lead to his own.Ā Truth, she thought it said. Elain frowned. Lucien switched to rubbing salve on her other hand. His movements still gentle, the unintended sting still cruel.
"ThisĀ is your way of making things right?"
"This is a means to an end," he corrected. Then he shook his head. "I would like you to explain it to me, though. Why do you thinkĀ IĀ no longer care for you? Only one of us was abandoned in those woods, and it wasn't you."
Elain tried very hard to keep her mind anchored to the present. She focused on the pain throbbing through her wrist. The warmth of his hand, cradling hers. His steady heartbeat pleading,Ā listen. Listen. Anything to keep from reliving the moment she last saw him in the forest.
"It was a means to end," she whispered, because it was the only answer she could give him. "I couldn't risk you taking me back to Autumn."
His flattened lip said she was only telling him things he'd already worked out for himself.
"But why do you assume I no longer care for you?"
Because I don't know if you ever did.
"I betrayed you," she answered. "I left you."
"It hurt, but I understood your reasons. How could I not?"
It burned her, that he had the audacity to play ignorant. Like a branch bearing too much weight, the anger in her snapped. If she was capable of deeper anger, her hands would have flown to his cheek. Something in her craved violence, but the most she could bare to strike was the tin of salve in his hands. It clattered to the floor, splattering its contents as it went. Flecks of it decorated Lucien's leg, but that was not nearly so satisfying as the shock on his face.
Shock that morphed into something hot. Anger, and something else. Something that writhed and tangled in her stomach, made her clench her thighs.
Maybe it was because of that heat, because of the fear that rose to meet it, that she snapped, "Don't take me for a fool, Lucien. I am not the same naive girl I used to be."
"No?" Lucien lifted from his chair, surging so fast and so close that Elain instinctively fell back on the bed. He followed, arms braced on either side of her head, lowering himself until she could feel the heat of his body skimming every inch of hers. "I think you're right," he breathed. "The girl I met was no coward, and certainly no oath breaker."
"I broke no oath!"
"You broke the one you made to me!" He snarled. "YouĀ leftĀ me."
Elain stilled, searching those heated eyes. For just one traitorous second, her gaze dropped to his mouth. She told herself it was because his teeth were bared. A survival instinct, to make sure he wouldn't bite her.
A memory flickered at the cusp of her grasp. If she reached for it, she knew she would feel those teeth sinking into her skin in another time. One framed by the rosy flush of passion. Even without reaching for it, her body recognized its remnants. Her bones sighed in relief, saying,Ā we've been here before.Ā Why fight it?
"You said you understood my reasons." Elain was unable to help the mocking sing-song in her voice. Lucien's eyes flashed, and some inane instinct had Elain craning her neck in response.
He tracked the movement, just as he tracked everything she did.
"That doesn't mean they didn't wound me," he murmured, dipping his head to speak the words against her neck. "Especially when I would have gone with you."
"Liar," she gasped.
Sharp teeth dragged along the column of her throat. She couldn't resist her full-body shudder.
"I've never lied to you, Elain." A nip at her pulse. "You made me swear it."
The hand she slid into his hair was entirely involuntary. She told herself she was only tangling her fingers with the intention to pull him away. But she was his wife, once, in every sense of the word. Memories of it were trailing back to her, slow and syrupy as treacle.
They were telling her things. Secrets buried the bedsheets of Autumn. Like what would happen when she pulled on his hair.
And Elain pulledĀ hard.
Lucien groaned, and the next thing she knew, his teeth were clamped down on her neck. No more teasing. No more gentleness.
She squirmed beneath him, hips bucking until he indulged her silent request by pressing his body in. Pinning her to the bed with a strong thigh wedged between her parted legs, pressing solidly against the place sheĀ ached. She was left with no choice but toĀ stay. To feel. To keep herself anchored to this moment of anger and passion andā¦ and something she couldn't bear to name, or it risked shattering her past repair.
Her husband released her when she finally cried out. Not from pain or anguish, but from the sharp, quivering needs she hadn't dared acknowledge since the moment they parted ways.
Lucien's breathing was ragged. "Tell me why you're so angry at me. Tell me why you think I don't care for you anymore."
"You've chased me down to bring me back toĀ him!" She exclaimed, blinking back tears. "Why do you need more explanation than that?"
The bed sighed as Lucien peeled his body away, leaving Elain deprived of his weight. Empty.
"If you think that's why I've been chasing you all these years, then perhaps you truly don't know me at all."
Elain thought she should say something, refute his words or throw them back, but they'd doused cool water over her anger. She could think of nothing to say, could only watch as Lucien strode to the door and left it swinging behind him.
āShe is by far the fairest of the three,ā Nova remarked, following his eyeline.
Elain was dancing with that same gentleman, the name of which bandied about in the back of his mind.
āViscount Nolan seems to think so, too.ā
Lucien resisted his audible groan of disgust. He knew the name and his wheyface reputation from Andras.Ā
āNolan cheats at cards,ā he said, off-handedly. āAlways takes the easy win.ā
Nova regarded him. āMy, myā¦ I rather think jealousy suits you, Duke.ā
He wanted to scoff. Jealous? Of Nolan? Preposterous. He could easily slip in there between them to offer her a dance. He was of a more senior rank and infinitely more well-favoured in Spring than Nolan. More handsome, too.
There was no contest as to who the more desirable suitor would be.
another little tease for you, landing tomorrow šŖš· @elucienweekofficial
For Elucien Week 2026, I'm sharing a drabble a day to match each prompt. Historically, drabbles are 100-word stories, meant to challenge writers at brief, succinct story telling. Feel free to join me and share your elucien drabbles too!
Day 4: Arranged Marriage
āHere are your quarters.āĀ
āDon't you mean our quarters?" Elain held up her chin as she haughtily examined the four-poster bed.
Lucien rubbed the side of his neck, "I already told you. We don't have to do that.ā
"Won't it help us keep up appearances?ā She squared her eyes on him.
A flash flickered behind his eye and he stepped into her space, crowding her until she backed into the post.
"Is that what you want?ā
Her breath seized in her throat. She swallowed, and before she could throw back a witty reply, he backed away and chuckled.
Hello Everyone and welcome to Day 4 of Elucien Week.
Prompt: Arranged Marriage.
Synopsis: When opposing forces threaten the Spring Court and the Human Realm, Elain Archeron enters into a politically based marriage with Lucien Vanserra to protect both their people. Falling for a faerie was never Elainās plan, but will he prove more irresistible than she thought.
Disclaimer: This is a starting chapter to a new fic that I've been playing around with lately, Let me know what you think and I hope everyone enjoys it!
From the moment Elain Archeron came of age, she knew she had to become everything her mother thought she was not.
She had heard remarks from the matron of the manor that day when she had assumed that Elain was not listening, how she thought Elain was nothing more than a pretty face and a wandering mind, a rose that brought beauty to their family, but not much else. She wondered if her mother had been so daft that she had forgotten that roses despite their remarkable beauty also had thorns.
She thought upon that now as she glanced at the stubborn rose bush that had now became the bane of her existence. She grasped at it again, trying to tame it, to get it to bend to her will, it was the only thing in her garden that she had no control over. Something that was as stubborn and as vicious as she.
Growling in frustration, she ripped off her gloves, throwing them to the side as soon as she fell ass back in the dirt. She had long since learned to detest roses, Especially these ones.
She kicked at the rose bush, sticking her tongue out at the infuriating bush as footfalls sounded behind her, a chuckle sounding at her back as her cheeks were painted a fierce shade of crimson, that laugh sending a roaring fire throughout her blood.
"How long have you been standing there?" She huffed, throwing him a withering glance, her face pinched in what she hoped was distaste as Lucien leaned against an elm tree, a smirk upon his face as it sent a roaring blaze throughout her mind.
"Long enough to see you lose your battle against your fiercest opponent." He admitted as she fumed. He had grown rather accustom to her foul moods as of late, probably because he was the only one that was subjected to them.
Yet he still stays. Her mind reminded her as her jaw clenched at the thought.
She abruptly stood up, wiping the dirt that had accumulated on her smock as she fully faced him to display her full frustration.
"Was there something you needed? Or are you just here to stand there and gawk at me all day?"
Lucien shrugged, the sun reflecting off of his exposed flesh, making the golden brown skin gleam as his red hair shone. She glanced away, swallowing down any lust that the sight of him brought on. No matter how much this male had become a nuisance to her, she had to admit that she had been mated to a rather tempting male. And she hated every part of her that was willing to risk it all for him.
"Rhys called upon me, he states that he has an urgent matter he wants to discuss. With the both of us." He answered, averting his gaze from hers as Elain's eyebrows rose.
"What could we possibly have to discuss? You and I-well, he's never asked to see us together." Not that Rhys asked much of her at all, even at her insistence that she was apart of this court and more than capable of maneuvering politics as they were, they still kept her out of things. It was remarkably frustrating to say the least.
His brows rose in surprise, daring to take a step towards her as she stiffened, that invisible string that connected them pulling taut as he seized his steps. noting her discomfort. He had always been remarkably good at that.
She fiddled with her fingers, needing to do anything except focus on the need to touch him to close the distance between them. She hated it. That want, that need. But the most frustrating thing about that need was she did not know if it was born from her own unfulfilled desires or from the bond that had been forged between the two. The one that made her head spin and her resentment grow.
Elain knew reasonably that it was not Lucien's fault. He had as much of a say about this bond then she did, And maybe it was misplaced anger that made her act this way around him, but- he was the only one she could be mad at. The one who wouldn't automatically resent her for doing so. She wished he did. It would make avoiding him that much easier.
"Your guess is as good as mine. I came here before seeking him out because I hoped you would know something."
"Why would I know anything?" She grumbled under her breath.
Lucien raked a hand through his hair, clearing his throat,
"Best not to keep them waiting."
She huffed, gathering her skirts as she moved past him, making an effort not to look at him, knowing that he followed as they made their way to Rhys's office
"Have you lost what's left of your mind?" Lucien barked, barely containing the rage that swelled up inside of him as Elain sat shocked and pale beside him. He did not blame her for it. What Rhys had suggested was pure and utter madness.
The High Lord of the Night Court turned towards them, Nyx strapped to his chest as the babe cracked one eye open, glancing at Lucien.
Lucien settled himself, reminding himself that there was a child present. Perhaps it was one of the reasons that Rhys had brought him in. To soften the impact of the blow when Lucien and Elain hurled their oppositions at him. Perhaps that was why she was not reacting now.
Rhys's eyebrows rose, cradling Nyx to his chest as the babe fell back asleep. Lucien sent a prayer up to The Mother herself so he would not forget himself once again. He was a diplomat, a highly trained male with centuries of experience, he knew better than to manuever this poorly during a politically based meeting, but the suggestion, the mere thought of it landed a physical blow to Lucien that had hit him harder than he expected.
"You-want us to marry?" Elain inquired. Her voice distant, as if she could hardly believe it herself.
The mere thought of it was absurd. They could barely stand to be in the same room as one another, yet Rhys wanted them to marry one another. His reasonings Lucien himself couldn't possibly know, he supposed it would not matter soon enough, he refused to subject Elain to this when this was the last she wanted.
"That is the idea, yes." Rhys answered as Lucien's temper flared,
"What for? What could possibly be your reasoning for this?" Lucien counterargued, throwing a withering glare Rhys's way.
"Do I need a reason?" Rhys glanced at him, as the flames in Lucien's eyes sizzled, his power bubbling up to the surface as Rhys tsked. "Fine. Have it your way. I need you two to marry because all our other efforts to revive the Spring Court have failed."
Lucien slackened, the fire within him dissipating at the mention of the court he used to call home, the one that had fallen into ruin. The one he had failed to help time and time again.
"I don't see how a marriage between us would solve anything. Given my current status there amongst the citizens, and my current standing with their High Lord, I don't see how I would be much help there at all. "
He did not blame them for their ire, Their hatred. Lucien had failed them. Time and time again he had failed them. Their hatred was the least that he deserved.
A muscle in Rhys's jaw ticked, "I considered as much, which is why I spoke with Tamlin before i arranged this meeting."
"Tamlin-agreed to this?" Lucien asked in shock. He had not said as much before Lucien had set off this morning, had not even mentioned that he had even spoke to Rhys personally within the past few months. Though he did not tell Lucien much these days.
He swore he could see a flicker of sympathy in Rhys's gaze before he straightened in his chair.
"He knows we're running out of options, knows that his wards are weakened and his court is not what it once was." Rhys gaze flickered out the window as if he could see the courts beyond. "Knows that your father is gathering his armies and forging his alliances with Koschei to take the land from underneath his feet. And who better to stop him than Beron's errant son and the sister of the female who he feels played a part in the falling of his court."
Rhys's face twisted in distaste at the last part as Lucien's jaw clenched, the feeling of betrayal settling within Lucien's bones. How could Tamlin do this? Not to him, he could care less about what Tamlin did to him, but to involve Elain-
"I'll do it."
Surprise coursed through him as his gaze snapped to Elain's. His gaze raking over her as if this was some sort of illusion. A trick. She could not actually be-
"Whatever I can do to help this court and the ones beyond it, I will do it."
"Why?" Lucien inquired as her gaze burned within is.
"The Spring Court is all that stands between your father and The Human Realm. I'll be damned if I let him get his hands on either of them. To leave-To leave those humans vulnerable to the Death God whose presence threatens their very existence , If we have to marry, if we have to be the last line of defense against him. Then so be it. I will do what I must."
Lucien sucked in a breath, glancing at the female before him as his eyes searched her own, and saw no hesitation within her gaze. She-She actually wanted this.
"But to marry-"
"Are arranged marriages not customary in your court?" Elain inquired as Lucien's stomach dropped.
"They are."
"Then I don't see why our union should be any different." She told him, her gaze focusing back on her brother in law, "I shall need some time to gather my things and have them sent to the manor in the Spring Court."
"Not the manor." Lucien interrupted, "Tamlin has not permitted me on it for quite some time."
"Then where do you stay when you're there?" Elain asked.
A blush painted Lucien's cheeks, as he stated,
"I have a cottage near the property, it's small, but if it's only the two of us, I don't see us sharing the space as too much of a problem."
He had taken some of the coin he had made from Rhys and Feyre in the past year as their emissary to purchase it. It hadn't been what he was used to, but it was still his. A place to call his own, even when he felt a if he belonged no where.
Elain glanced away as she stood, addressing Rhysand as she answered,
"Then have my things sent there, and I will be there in a matter of days to-to seal our union."
Lucien nodded as Elain gathered her skirts and swiftly left the room without looking back at him.
"Lucien, I-" Rhys started as Lucien stood,
"Don't." He growled out as he winnowed away not giving the High Lord time to respond before he vanished into thin air.
Taking a deep fortifying breath to center herself, Elain tilted her head back, pressing it against the wooden oak door of her room as she took a look around, memorizing it.
She knew why she had done it, knew why she had agreed to this marriage when the mere thought of it sounded preposterous. Her...Lucien Vanserra's wife, her mother would roll in her grave at the thought of it. At her marrying a fae, even if said fae was born from nobility. exiled or not, Lucien had made quite the name for himself without his family's name to do so.
But marrying Lucien offered her something that they did not expect, it offered her a sense of freedom that she felt she had not been allotted the vast majority of her life.
When her family looked at her, they saw someone they needed to protect, to shelter. And at first she had been fine playing into that role, but now, now that role was damn near suffocating, and she was one more well meaning sheltering away from blowing that shelter down like a storm.
What worked for her before-what had always worked, no longer worked for her now. And if this was the only way for her to achieve it, then so be it. She would bind herself to Lucien if it gave her some semblance of what life could be beyond a life like this. Even if being around him drove her mad sometimes, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make.
Blowing out a sigh, she crossed her room, opening up her wardrobe and running her fingers over the array of gowns she had received throughout the past couple of years. Would she need to take all of them, or would some clothes be provided?
She had never been fond of the colors of the Night Court, the fabrics had always made her skin appear so sallow, but she did have quite a few in her wardrobe that would work within the Spring Court, and she supposed that if she needed any made she could always ask or have Lucien take her to one of the dress makers in the court, if any remained.
She gathered a few of her dresses, laying them on the bed as she glanced around, her lips pursing. She didn't even have a bag for travel, that's how little she got out of this court.
As if The Mother herself had heard Elain's predicament, a knock sounded at the door rushed and hurried, Elain sighed, knowing that this visit might not be a pleasant one as she opened the door and Nesta breezed through,
"You're marrying Lucien." She told her, her breath coming out in a rush as if she had ran here when she had heard the news.
"And hello to you too, sister." Elain mused turning her attention back to her wardrobe and piling more of her things on the bed.
"Spare me the pleasantries, and help me understand, you can't stand to be near him for more than two seconds and now you've agreed to marry him."
"I don't have to justify my reasoning to you, Nesta." She retorted, hated that she was being scolded as if she were no more than a child.
Nesta looked prepared to argue, but chose instead to chose a different tactic,
"Marriage comes with obligations, Elain. It's not just something you go into spontaneously-"
"And I understand those, Nesta, or have you already forgotten that I partook in the same lessons you did?"
"So you're willing to lie with him? To provide him-children?"
Elain's cheeks flamed, this was not something she wished to discuss with either of her sisters.
"We have other obligations to prioritize before we even cross those bridges. Lucien and I are both aware of this."
Nesta let out a low laugh and Elain fought a scowl. As frustrating as Lucien was, he had not pushed her into returning any affection towards him, she had to trust him, even if it was even the slightest bit, to not push her into any form of intimacy.
"Was there something else you needed?" She asked. A form of dismissal.
"Elain, I know sometimes I may come across as overbearing, but at the end of the day, I don't want to see you do anything that doesn't make you happy. Can you tell me with absolute certainty that this will?"
She glanced at her sister, truly glanced at her, as she took a deep breath to center herself,
"I've learned in life that nothing is a certainty, Nesta. But one thing I am certain on is that I want to do this. I want to help, I want to-I want to go on my own adventures, and take control of my own destiny, and if this a stepping stone towards that then I'm more than willing to take it."
Nesta moved towards her, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze as she pulled her into a hug,
"Promise you'll write." She replied, tears spilling onto her cheeks.
"I swear it."
Nesta nodded, pulling away from Elain as she moved towards the door, grabbing a suitcase as Elain traced the flowers that were embraided on the leather,
"Consider it my wedding gift to you. I figured you would need one."
Elain gathered her sister into a hug again before Nesta left Elain to her packing once more,
Elain gathered herself, taking another breath to center herself as she turned towards the desk that was pushed towards the edge of her room, opening it as she glanced down at the letters contained inside.
Letters from him that she had received and not answered, mixed with letters she had written but not sent. She placed a delicate hand on them, her finger traveling over Lucien's smooth and elegant handwriting, words she had read time and time again when she wanted-when she wanted a way to travel outside of this court. Letters about his travels and his escapades throughout the courts and beyond, even if she did detest his presence at times, she had to admit that his words had brought her comfort when she needed them.
She knew she should leave them, along with the letters that she had wrote in an effort to respond to him, but something deep within her tugged at her, encouraging her to do so.
She opened the suitcase, placing it on her bed before gathering the letters to place on bottom when the box caught her attention, the ones that contained the delicate pearl earrings he had gifted her last Solstice, next to the enchanted gloves he had gifted her the year before.
She hadn't known why she kept them, but as she gathered them with the letters, she found herself placing them at the bottom of her suitcase before she piled her clothes on top of them. Going to her open wardrobe as she got out the jacket that she had not bothered to give back to him. She never found an opportune moment to do so, or at leas that's what she always told herself.
She would give it back to him, she swore, or perhaps sneak it into his own things so he wouldn't notice. He would notice it if she didn't, and the last thing she wanted Lucien to do was inquire why she still had it, why she hadn't tossed it out.
She put the jacket in her suitcase sipping it up as she sat on her bed, taking one last look around her before she made her way to make her goodbyes and head towards the next step of her path.
Lucien was all out of ideas, and running out of time as he laid in the decaying patch of grass amongst him, glancing up at the cloudless sky.
Most would not find themselves comfortable amongst decaying grass, but Lucien had grown accustom to it over the centuries of his life. It had always reminded him of his home.
"Why are you lying in the grass?" He had asked her once, her laugh flowing over him,
"You should try it some time, it's not as bad as you think."
He shook his head, clearing his mind. The last thing he needed to do was think about his former lover days before he was set to be married.
Lucien's jaw clenched, his anger at both Tamlin and Rhys still swelling, at arranging this marriage between them without even taking their feelings on the matter into consideration. He cursed them both for even coming up with the concept.
Tamlin knew his history, knew that he had bore witness to his parent's loveless marriage, and knew that the last thing Lucien would desire was his own marriage ending up the same way and now him and Rhys had probably damned him to the same fate. His blood boiled at the mere thought of it, of Elain, enduring the same fate his mother was still subjected to. He couldn't bare the thought of it.
A crunch in front of him sounded as he growled out,
"Leave me be, Tamlin, I'm in no mood for your company."
"Then would you settle for mine?" A feminine and familiar voice called out from beyond, he sat up, his gaze finding hers as the sight of her took his breath away. It always had. Though he would never admit it out loud,
He sat up, resting his arms on his knees as he dared a glance at her,
"I didn't expect you until tomorrow." He admitted as she took a step wandering towards him, assured in her steps, more assured then they had been in the past. It-surprised him,
She gestured to the ground next to him,
"May I?"
Lucien's eyebrows rose, as he loosened a breath, somehow the gesture had became more difficult with her near.
"You may do as you wish." He stated, and he meant it. She was not his, and he would not control her actions. Even with this marriage set in place, he would never subject her to the life that his mother had grown accustom to.
She gathered her skirts, a nice shade of sage green to match the vines that accompanied the sunflowers on her corset, her attire making her appear as if she were made for a court like Spring. She took a seat next to him, the air leaving his lungs, his heart palpitating at the mere proximity of her. Could she hear that too as she once had before? Could she hear precisely what she did to him?
"I've come to apologize." She told him as his eyebrows rose in question, he expected a lot of things from Elain, but an apology had not been one of them.
"What ever do you have to apologize for?"
"I was-abrupt in my acceptance of the marriage proposal, I did not -I did not think how perhaps you might feel about it."
"You don't need to worry about that." He assured her.
"But I still do. I know of your history, of you own parents marriage, I-I didn't think how being placed in the same situation your parents were in might affect you and for that I am sorry."
He glanced at her, the sun reflecting off the golden brown of her hair, she looked beautiful in this light, even amongst the decaying of the grass and the fields that surrounded them . She was still beautiful, she always had been.
"I always thought-" he started, he wasn't sure how to speak to her, what to say, he had always had the ability to do so with others, but with Elain-With Elain she truly left him speechless.
"Thought what?" She urged him to continue, and he would not start this marriage off with dishonesty.
"When I thought of a marriage, I know it sounds silly, but I thought it would be one for love. I never wanted what the court I grew up in expected of me. And once before I thought-I thought I had the chance for that."
Her head bowed at that as she twisted her thumbs in response,
"What was she like?" She inquired as Lucien blinked.
When he mentioned Jesminda around others, they had always inquired about how she had died, not how she had lived. Elain had been the first one who even bothered to ask him that.
"She was-She was like air." Lucien started as Elain glanced at him, her eyes nearly golden in the reflective light of the sun. "She lived in a way that felt like freedom, she hated to be contained, She bulked at adhering to the thought of a small life in the village she was born into. In that matter, we were very much the same."
"She sounds lovely. You-You must have really loved her."
"I did." He admitted as she searched his gaze as he felt her hand slip into his own.
He sucked in a breath, daring not to move in case any blatant movement scared her away.
"I'm sorry that you lost her." She told him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "That you had to endure such a terrible ordeal."
"I survived it." He stated glancing to the field beyond.
"You shouldn't have had to." She told him as their gazes caught once more.
"Neither should you." He claimed squeezing her own hand,
Her throat bobbed, tears shining in her eyes as she took another breath,
"Then perhaps this marriage doesn't have to start off with us resenting one another. Perhaps, perhaps we could start anew, as friends."
A corner of his mouth flicked up as he squeezed her hand,
"I would like that very much."
She smiled broadly at him, the sight of it sparking something deep within him as she gathered her skirts and offered him a hand,
"Then perhaps my friend will show me where I shall be staying."
He took her hand in his own smiling up at her as he answered,
Lucien and Elain fit the arranged marriage trope so perfectly! Even though they're so conflicted with how they're feeling, they cannot deny the constant pull they have for one another. I love the idea that Elain and Lucien would have a ceremony that mixes fae and human traditions, or have a human wedding and Fae mating bond ceremony!
I also imagine Elain and Lucien acting like they've accepted their bond to try and put up a unified front, only for that tension between them to build when they are 'putting on a show', blurring the lines of what's real and what is an act.
Of course we know, it's all real, they're just too stubborn to admit it!
Happy @elucienweekofficial my loves! š¦šø And during my birthday month too? It really feels like a gift. š„¹š
Iām so excited for the upcoming books and (hopefully!) finally getting more of Lucien and Elainās story. Their romance has some of my favorite tropes of all time. Give me reluctant mates, yearning, longing, impossible circumstances, and a slow burn that actually earns its payoff every single time.
SJM has said she was going to create tension before the healing, and thatās exactly what weāve all be waiting for. Every obstacle in their story exists to make that eventual moment when they choose each other even better. Thatās the magic of a slow burn, the longing makes the payoff unforgettable.
So this beautiful piece of art felt like the perfect one to share for Elucien Week. šāļøAnd when these two finally come together? The fire Elain is destined to feel is going to burn so beautifully. š„āØ
A huge thank you to v_fisch03 for capturing the longing, tension, and absolute hotness between these two so perfectly. Your ability to bring emotion is incredible. Itās genuinely so beautiful, and Iām so grateful you share your talent with this fandom.Itās always a pleasure working with you. š
Iām so so excited to share this BEAUTIFUL artwork of Elain and Lucien!
Weāre hoping by the end of book 8 Elain will have fallen in love with Lucien, and accepted the mate bond ā¤ļøā¤ļø. We definitely feel like Elain would want a more traditional/ human style wedding because sheās the one sister who really loved being human.
Commissioned by @norabraveseeker , @lulufoxlainfawn , bookish_art_cat on IG, and myself
āBut if theyāre blessed, theyāll find their mateātheir equal, their match in every way. High Fae wed without the mating bond, but if you find your mate, the bond is so deep that marriage is ā¦ insignificant in comparison.ā
Day Four - Arranged Marriage for @elucienweekofficial
Summary : Elain can no longer ignore the bond, so she comes up with a flawless plan and hopes Lucien doesnāt object. Of course, spending more time together leads to a hopeless romance <3
Note : Happy Elucien Week and thank you to the amazing volunteers that organise @elucienweekofficial I have been so so excited for this event!!! This is a short multi-chapter fic that was heavily inspired by the various Regency and Victorian romance novels Iāve read over the last few months :)
Lucien,
I have written you countless letters, and none of them feel right.
Lucien,Ā
Feyre asked me today if I preferred the Autumn Court to Velaris. I told her I found the politics tedious, but there is something so very special about it. I just didnāt want her to feel upset over what she canāt control. Truthfully, Iām not sure if I like Autumn better simply because youāre there.
I remember you telling me once that the air in the Forest House tastes different than anywhere else in Prythian. When I went to the coffee shop by the Sidra today (the one with those flaky pastries you like so much), I finally figured it out.Ā
It tastes like apples and vanilla and it never fails to remind me of the bakeries on the other side of the wall. All those hearths make everything warm, too. In a strange, unexpected way, it almost feels like home.
When Iām in the Night Court, I find myself looking forward to returning to the Forest House with you.Ā
Yours,Ā
Elain.Ā
* * *Ā
Lucien,Ā
I am tired of pretending.Ā
Lucien,
I found a dried leaf from the Forest House gardens tucked between the pages of theĀ botany book I borrowed from Aspasia. It is the exact colour of your eye (not the mechanical one, just in case you were unsure).Ā
Has it really only been a few days since I saw you? It feels like an eternity. I have gotten entirely too used to your company.Ā
Iām thinking about you.Ā
Yours,Ā
Elain.Ā
* * *Ā
Lucien,Ā
I never have the courage to tell you that I wish things were different between us.Ā
Lucien,Ā
When I was young and my family was wealthy, my father promised he would find me a prince to marry. My mother was certain she could arrange an advantageous match, but a marriage with royalty?Ā
Unlikely.Ā
Is it strange that I still think about my life before? About what could have been and what never will be? Whenever you stay with Jurian and Vassa, these sorts of thoughts trouble me. Not in the way you might think.Ā
I canāt imagine my life without you.Ā
I like to imagine we still would have met, despite everything.Ā
Yours,Ā
Elain.
* * *Ā
Lucien,Ā
I see you in my dreams.Ā
Lucien,Ā
I keep having the strangest dreams.Ā
Last night, I woke up with your name on my lips. Being in Autumn without you is the worst sort of torture. Everything reminds me of you.Ā
I need to feel your arms around me, to feel you inside me. I need your touch like I need air to breathe.
I find it unfair, how these dreams wonāt let me sleep.Ā
I touch myself and think you must be doing the same. I can hear your heart, can feel it down the bond. All I can think about is the way your skin feels beneath my fingers. I want you with me always.Ā Ā
Tomorrow canāt come soon enough.Ā
Yours,Ā
Elain.Ā
* * *Ā
I love you.Ā
* * *Ā
Lucien,
I feel we must speak about our arrangement.Ā
Yours,Ā
Elain.Ā
* * *Ā
Lucien,Ā
When you hold me from behind, when you press your forehead against my shoulder blade in the quiet hours of the morning, what are you thinking about? I have always wondered.Ā
We have built something very strange, haven't we? The word I am thinking of feels too heavy, too permanent, but it is there, pressing against the back of my throat every time you kiss me.Ā
Tell me you love me, so I can say it back.Ā
Yours,Ā
Elain.Ā
* * *Ā
Lucien,Ā
It is past midnight now, and I am looking at the stars as I write.Ā
I spent the entire evening wishing we could have celebrated the equinox at the Forest House. It is not the same, in Velaris and without you by my side. Promise me that next year we will spend it together?Ā
I tend to write little snippets without clear direction or thought. I wrote this awhile ago, heavily edited it this morning, and decided why not? Iāll share.
So hereās my drabble / contribution for Elucien Week Day 3 Peak Yearning!
Title: Any Other Day
To set the stage: Lucien and Elain have worked together for months towards getting the peace treaty signed between the humans and Prythian courts. With the treaty complete, and Lucien telling Rhys he can no longer be his emissary, Lucien and Elain seem to be going down separate paths. Hereās the night before Elainās return to Velaris.
ā
āAny other day,ā Lucien whispered, taking a step closer. Daring to breathe in her scent. Gods, that jasmine and honey scent would bring him to his knees if he didnāt concentrate on the words he needed to get out.
In all these months working together, traveling courts and sleeping under the same roof, there has been barely a graze of the hand or press of shoulders. His hands, constantly clenched so hard indentations were forming on his palms, had been kept to himself.
But now on the eve of her return to Night Court, he finally reached for her. He gently grasped both of her upper arms, pulling himself closer to her as his hands ran down her arms and clasped her hands. He let out a breath of relief as she squeezed his hands in encouragement, and he couldnāt help but bend so low that his nose nearly grazed hers. He thought his chest might give out from how tight the bond was pulling, how that thread strained nearly to the point of snapping. The bond seemed to whisper just a little closer in his ear, to close that gap between their lips. He knew any more touch between them and heād erupt in light and wind and whatever other magic she seemed to bring out of him. His jaw tightened as he willed himself to restrain.
āAny other day,ā he repeated. āI would let it be. Itās always been your choice when it comes to us.ā
Us. Cauldron boil him, there was an us between them. He wondered if the thread was yanking as hard in her chest as it was for him. If her knees were dangerously wobbling like his.
Those fawn brown eyes met his own. Those eyes were home, achingly reminiscent of the Autumn Courtās canopies with amber and forest green speckled across that lovely brown. He was instantly brought back to memories of afternoons laying on the forest floor staring above as the sunbeams filtered and shifted with each flutter of the changing leaves. That day in Hybern, when their eyes first locked, he had been transported to his long-lost memories of home. He had known then what she was to him.
She was his home. His mate. His heart twinged painfully at the thought that perhaps she would never consider him her home, and maybe she yearned to return to Velaris. To whomever waited for her there.
āBut Iāve spent my whole life just letting things happen to me. And I canāt let this just happen to me too without saying something. So, Iām begging you. Please stay. Be with me. Donāt go back.ā
For Elucien Week 2026, I'm sharing a drabble a day to match each prompt. Historically, drabbles are 100-word stories, meant to challenge writers at brief, succinct story telling. Feel free to join me and share your elucien drabbles too!
Day 3: Peak Yearning
Lucien held the air at the bottom of his lungs until it physically pained him. He exhaled with a shudder, clenching his fists as he straightened his spine. He kept his eyes forward, looking her way but not directly at her, calculating her distance and speed as she approached, her head bowed as she clutched the basket hanging on her arm. He hoped she couldnāt hear his heart anymore because now it hammered in his chest, his cheeks flushing with nervous anticipation as he curled his lips in a welcoming smile. She didn't smile back, passing him without a word.
