She looked away—toward the windows. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly.
He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth. “When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.”
— A Court of Wings and Ruin
I wrote a short fic inspired by this! I hope you like it!
Elain can hear his heartbeat. No matter where she is, no matter where he is, no matter how much distance is between them, she can hear his heartbeat.
She hears it constantly, though she quickly learned how to tune it out so she could focus on her daily tasks. It wasn’t easy at first, but she figured it out.
After finally building up the courage to ask, she learned that Feyre did not hear Rhysands heartbeat on constant loop. She was too scared to ask Nesta, knowing how Nesta thought of the whole situation between Elain and.. him.
It was easy now, to tune out the sound of his heartbeat. It was never fully gone, only blending into the background of her thoughts. Like walking through a music filled street. She could hear the music, but when she didn’t focus on it, it wasn’t as intrusive.
Upon coming to this realization, creating a link between background music, and his heartbeat, was the first time she thought it. It was the first time she thought it, and she hadn’t been able to come up with another description for it since.
His heartbeat was like music.
Another realization she came to quickly, that tied his heartbeat to music was how no one wanted to listen to music every day without escape. They would grow annoyed.
Music, while incredibly beautiful in itself, was not always appropriate. In fact there were certain situations where music could be considered highly inappropriate.
She couldn’t blame him for it. She knew he couldn’t control the bond or the fact that she heard his heartbeat. As far as she knew, he couldn’t even hear hers. Still, it made her angry. It frustrated her to no end. No one around her could hear their—
No one around her could hear their mates heartbeats, so why does she constantly hear his, without reprieve?
While it’s true music can seem annoying sometimes, it is also true in saying that music is incredibly soothing and comforting.
The nights she couldn’t sleep, or when she was woken with a nightmare, the nights where the darkness tried to claim her in her fear, they were always terrifying. Those nights were also the same nights where his heartbeat, his music would become louder, soothing her from her panic, from her fear. His heartbeat was there to bring her back from that edge every time.
More often than not, and much more than she cared to admit, did his music lull her back to sleep after a nightmare. More often than not, did she allow him to help her without him even knowing he was.
Elain grew used to his heartbeat. Used to his music. It was the only part of this bond she didn’t actively ignore. She couldn’t ignore it, she didn’t know how. So she got used to it.
In fact she got so used to it, that she often found herself relying on it. If her garden didn’t bloom, or when Feyre was nearly dying in childbirth, or when her and Nesta got into a particularly harsh argument, because Nesta’s friend was wearing a necklace meant for her.
When things got too much, she would retreat to her room each night, change into her night clothes, and curl in bed.
She would curl in bed, and dig deep within herself until his heartbeat was more than just music in the background. She would dig within herself until his music consumed her just enough to remind her that though there were some incredibly tough times, this, her secret music, would always calm her down.
She hadn’t realized just how much she had gotten used to his heartbeat in her head, how much she had come to rely on his music, until one day she woke up and things felt off. She couldn’t put a finger on why, and she didn’t have the time to figure out either.
That day, Nyx had decided, was the perfect day, to test his lungs. The poor child was screaming, and crying all day, and nothing anybody could do helped. He only stopped when he fell asleep, and then sweet blessed silence. Cassian had mentioned that it could be growth pains in poor Nyx’s wings.
Growth pains in wings were apparently, extremely more painful than in other limbs, given the very specific sensitivity Illyrian wings have, and how many muscles they link to in the back, shoulders and even stomach.
So Nyx spent the entire day screaming and crying, and no one could sooth him. It broke her heart as his aunt, she couldn’t even imagine how Rhys and Feyre were feeling. Nyx hadn’t stopped screaming until he finally, reluctantly, fell asleep.
With Nyx finally asleep, Elain didn’t waste time I finding her way to her own room, and getting ready for bed. It wasn’t until Elain was sitting on bed when the wrongness she woke up feeling, settled in, and she realized right away what it was.
She second she realized, her heart turned to ice, as true terror filled her very viens. Her head was silent. There was not a sound in her head, not Nyxs screaming, not her thoughts, and not her— not her mates heartbeat.
Elain thought she knew what true fear was when she was being dragged towards the Cauldron. Felt that same fear with every nightmare. She thought she knew what true fear was. She was wrong. Oh she was so very wrong.
She could not hear Luciens heartbeat, and true terror seeped through her viens, freezing her. It took about thirty seconds, thirty excruciatingly long seconds, before she could move, and when she finally could she was frantic.
Not bothering taking just two extra steps to grab her housecoat, she grabbed Luciens jacket he draped on her shoulders that night, that she never had the heart to give back or hide away. That jacket was in her path to her door so she grabbed it, and threw it on before she practically ran to Feyre.
After the day they’ve had, Feyre and Rhys looked to be exhausted. Emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted. Elain would feel guilty for barging into their rooms later, but right now, she couldn’t focus on that.
Upon seeing her barge in, Feyre, despite still looking incredibly exhausted, became fully alert within a second.
“What’s wrong?” Feyre had asked, immediately making her way to Elain, concern quickly etching its way onto her face past the exhaustion.
Elain couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t see or feel anything beyond her chilling terror. If she could, she would have realized, and actively changed the way she responded.
Because Feyre and Rhysand had spent the entire day, trying and failing, to sooth, thus, not only hearing crying, but screams of pain from their son.
After this day, Elain would feel guilty, because her response of “I can’t hear him, it’s too silent. Somethings wrong, I can’t hear him, I need to see him.” She could see they started growing scared themselves, Rhysand nearly running out of the room to check on Nyx.
Feyre waited behind, trying, and failing, to sooth Elains fear, not understanding that it wasn’t fear for Nyx her sister had. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when Rhys walked back into the room with a still sleeping Nyx in his arms, intent to show Elain that he was fine, that Feyre had realized Elain wasn’t talking about Nyx.
Elain, near hysterics in her terror, kept muttering how she needed to go see him, that he wasn’t okay. She couldn’t hear his music, she needed to go see him.
Elain had immediately looked up at Feyre, upon hearing her sister say his name, seeing the realization set in.
Feyre must have been having a silent conversation, explaining to Rhysand through their bond, because not even a minute later, Feyre was leading Elain outside, to the border of the barrier that stopped anyone from winnowing inside the house. Before long, Feyre had winnowed Elain away to the human lands.
Elain wanted to walk right into the house, but Feyre held her back in favour of knocking on the front door. It was all to slow, she needed see him, make sure everything was okay.
Just as she was about to push out of Feyre’s embrase and walk in the house, the door opened. She saw red hair, but not the red hair she needed to see.
The red haired human queen, Vassa, looked at her sister with ever increasing annoyance, asking if whatever work Feyre had for Lucien couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Elain tuned her out though, because in the distance behind the human queen, there he stood.
There he stood as if he could not only sense her presence the moment her and Feyre arrived in the human lands, but could also sense her fear, her true terror.
Of course he could, he was her mate, and the look of concern on his face didn’t calm her. There she stood, in her nightgown and his jacket, looking over the queens shoulder, meeting his eyes. Unlike meeting his eyes over Nesta’s shoulder, that night, three years ago, she couldn’t hear the heartbeat in her head this time.
She saw him move to take a step towards her, only to stop himself, not wanting to cross any boundaries she had very clearly set up. But she didn’t care about those boundaries now. Not in the least.
“You’re okay?” Elain simply mumbles the question, before walking past the queen, the silence in her head very slowly leaving with each step she took. She didn’t know how she ever lived with silence in her head, she never wanted to do so again.
She didn’t realize, and didn’t care about how she might have looked like a mess, as she surveyed Lucien, her mate, to make sure he was okay, before pulling him in a hug. She very firmly turned her head, so her ear was laying on the left side of his chest, just above his heart.
She closed her eyes, just listening to the still beating, still incredibly soothing, still consistent, music that was Luciens heartbeat. Then, and only then, did Elain allow herself to begin to calm down.
So this idea came to me, and it’s been wiggling inside my brain, and growing. It got to the point where I had to write it. I couldn’t NOT write it. So I did, and I am sharing it with you.
Should I do more? Continue this? Would anyone even want to see a continuation? Let me know! Because I really like how this turned out.
