Becca ( @silvergriff ) and I ( @moononastring ) wanted to thank each and every one of you that created and/or shared something for our Lucien Vanserra appreciation week! Our fox boy deserves all the love and we appreciate you for sharing it with us and spreading the Lucien love!
We hope you'll be inspired to continue celebrating with us any events coming up! Stay tuned for our Band of Exiles prompt announcement coming up later today! You can find it here.
Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) - Annie Lennox/Dave Stewart, but I think this version fits better
Sweet dreams are made of this. Who am I to disagree? Travel the world and the seven seas. Everybody’s looking for something. Some of them want to use you. Some of them want to get used by you Some of them want to abuse you. Some of them want to be abused
Summary: In which Elain travels to the Spring Court as emissary to prevent a vision she had about the death of her mate—and accidentally becomes the auxiliary High Lady in the process. (Rated M)
Read on ao3.
This is my humble offering for the free day of @lucienvanserraweek. A bit Elain centric, but this story is my love letter to both Lucien and the fandom as a whole. Thank you for sharing your lovely talents with us this week.
For all Elain was beginning to love and trust her brother-in-law, she had to admit the High Lord of Night was terrible at keeping promises.
He kept the ones that were important to him, sure. But when Elain had asked him very politely, very seriously , if she could be informed before Lucien was summoned to the house, Rhys had accepted a promise he could not keep.
“What’s this all the sudden?” Rhys had asked, peering at Elain with his cat-like smile from the head of his desk. “Did something happen?”
“No, it’s just a simple request,” Elain replied. That was true enough, she supposed.
But even more true, the reality she did not want to admit, was that Lucien’s presence—kind and pleasant enough—was a very unkind and unpleasant reminder of the suffering she’d endured. Being around him was taxing, the toll on her heart always making her feel as though she’d attended a dozen funerals.
Perhaps he was not so ignorant of her feelings as she thought, because Rhys sighed and said, “Lucien will not be home in time for our dinner meeting tomorrow evening. And in future, I will give you notice before his arrival so that you may prepare as you wish.”
Lucien proposing to Ekain by burying the ring in her flowerbeds 👀👀👀
GODDDDDD MY HEART
check out @lucienvanserraweek for more elucien goodness. I’m also going to a wedding later today so this felt ✨fitting✨
Lucien’s heart was pounding in his chest as he sat on a blanket in the grass and watched Elain garden.
It was a warm spring day and she’d bought several new flowers she wanted to plant in front of their townhouse. He liked watching her work and usually loved the sound of her voice as she explained what she was doing, but today he was barely paying attention to what she was saying.
They’d lived in this townhouse for just shy of three years, and he’d known she was his forever from that very first night. Falling asleep with her in his arms in a place that was wholly theirs had felt more right than anything he’d ever experienced, only topped by waking up with her small body sprawled across his.
“What the hell is this?” she muttered, bringing his attention back to her. She was using a small metal tool to dig holes for her new plants, and it clanged against something hard in the dirt.
“Maybe it’s a rock?” he suggested. He knew very well it was not a rock — he’d gotten up ridiculously early to put the little box in the ground, thank you very much — and his palms were sweaty as he watched her reach for it with her gloved hands.
“Rocks aren’t made of velvet,” she replied. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder, unimpressed, before resuming her digging.
Lucien waited somewhat patiently as Elain wiggled the box out of the ground, taking off her gloves to gently pry it open. He got up off the blanket and walked over to her as she gasped.
“Lucien,” she said, her hands shaking, “Why is there a ring in my flowerbeds?”
He sat down next to her and gently took the box from her hands, the ring sparkling in the sunlight. “Because I want to marry you.”
“What?” she replied, her mouth falling open just slightly. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious.” He reached forward to take her hand with his free one, her hands warm from being in the sun. “We’re in love and we make each other happy. I can’t imagine my life without you. Why not get married?”
Elain threw herself at him, toppling them backwards into the dirt, but Lucien didn’t mind one bit. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes—”
He somehow managed to get the ring out of the box and onto one of her fingers with her completely straddling him — who knew if it was the right one — while she kissed him senseless.
“I love you,” she said against his mouth.
“I love you too,” he said, unable to stop smiling. He’d never been happier than he was right now, especially when he realized he’d eventually be able to tell people Elain was his wife instead of his girlfriend.
I would LOVE Elucien together and Elain motivating Lucien to get in touch with Helion after learning he’s his dad and then they have a heart to heart that Elain foresaw and she cried with love when she saw it so she sends Lucien confident everything will go well and it does!!!
this is actually really sweet 🥺 I don’t do canon stuff so i took some liberties but i hope you still enjoy. yet another submission for @lucienvanserraweek !
Elain wasn’t sure what to do as she watched her boyfriend struggle to keep it together.
“My dad… is not my dad,” Lucien said shakily. He’d been saying some version of the phrase for the past couple minutes and she didn’t know what to say to that. She’d always had the luxury of knowing who her family was, shitty as her parents were, and she’d never had the rug pulled out under her quite like this.
“Did your mother say who your real dad was?” Elain asked softly.
He nodded slowly. “Some guy named Helion.”
“Do you know him?” she prodded gently.
He shook his head this time. “I’ve never heard of him.”
Oh, Lucien, she thought. Her boyfriend had just come from a rather explosive family dinner where Beron had cruelly revealed that Lucien probably wasn’t his son in front of their entire family. Lucien had left the dinner almost immediately after and Solenne, Lucien’s mother, followed him and revealed his true father’s name.
“Maybe you should try and get in contact with him,” she said. They were sitting on their couch and she shifted closer to him, wrapping an arm around his back while leaning her head on his shoulder. “He might not know about you either.”
“What if he doesn’t want to know me?” Lucien asked, his voice small.
“Lucien.” Elain fixed him with a hard look. “You’re one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. Why wouldn’t he want to know you?”
He shrugged, averting his eyes. “Maybe he’s known about me all this time and did nothing.”
“Or maybe Beron threatened your mom into not telling him,” she countered. “There’s plenty of other reasons.”
“What if he’s even worse than my d- Beron?” he said, correcting himself almost immediately.
“No offense, but Beron set the bar pretty fucking low,” she replied, making Lucien release a little chuckle. “I don’t think there’s anyone as bad as him, so it’s only up from here, right?”
“Right,” he agreed. She could tell his heart wasn’t in it and crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around him properly.
“Let’s sleep on it,” Elain suggested, nuzzling her face into his neck. He wrapped his arms around her after a moment and burrowed his face into her hair and breathed deeply. “You’re not going to make any good decisions right now anyway.”
“Okay,” Lucien said. “But… if I did call him, would you be there with me?”
“Of course I would,” she agreed quickly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
For the modern Lucien prompts, Lucien cleaning out everyone at poker.
I love the idea of this and I’m combining this with another prompt I got. thank you to everyone who sent in drabble requests so I could celebrate @lucienvanserraweek 🧡
also as a disclaimer I know nothing about poker other than you lose money so yeah
Lucien smirked as he scooped another pile of tokens into his corner, Cassian muttering curses as he did so.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” his friend muttered.
They had all gotten together for their weekly game night, and this week, Elain and Lucien were hosting. As the hosts they got to pick the first game to be played and much to his amusement, his clever girlfriend had suggested poker.
“You didn’t tell us you were this good at poker when we picked this, fireball,” Gwyn grumbled. She made a face at her cards — she was terrible at keeping her face blank — after Nesta dealt them out.
“Why do you think I’m not playing?” Nesta chimed in, her voice amused. She exchanged a look with Emerie, who also wasn’t playing, before turning back to the assembled group.
“Some warning would’ve been nice, sweetheart,” Cassian said with a scowl.
“We should’ve known better,” Rhys said darkly.
Azriel raised an eyebrow at Lucien before putting down his cards, revealing a four of a kind. “We’ll see about that.”
Elain giggled from where she was sitting on Lucien’s lap and had a perfectly good view of his cards. “Keep that same energy when you lose, Az.”
Lucien smirked as he revealed his hand, Mor and Feyre cursing loudly as they saw his straight flush. “Don’t catch your chickens before they hatch, people.”
“Fuck you, Vanserra,” Feyre said, sighing as she poured herself another drink.
“Don’t worry,” Elain said, chuckling. “I have that taken care of.”
“You two are absolutely disgusting,” Mor complained. Emerie rolled her eyes and poured her girlfriend another glass. “Can we play something else now?”
Lucien proposing to Ekain by burying the ring in her flowerbeds 👀👀👀
GODDDDDD MY HEART
check out @lucienvanserraweek for more elucien goodness. I’m also going to a wedding later today so this felt ✨fitting✨
Lucien’s heart was pounding in his chest as he sat on a blanket in the grass and watched Elain garden.
It was a warm spring day and she’d bought several new flowers she wanted to plant in front of their townhouse. He liked watching her work and usually loved the sound of her voice as she explained what she was doing, but today he was barely paying attention to what she was saying.
They’d lived in this townhouse for just shy of three years, and he’d known she was his forever from that very first night. Falling asleep with her in his arms in a place that was wholly theirs had felt more right than anything he’d ever experienced, only topped by waking up with her small body sprawled across his.
“What the hell is this?” she muttered, bringing his attention back to her. She was using a small metal tool to dig holes for her new plants, and it clanged against something hard in the dirt.
“Maybe it’s a rock?” he suggested. He knew very well it was not a rock — he’d gotten up ridiculously early to put the little box in the ground, thank you very much — and his palms were sweaty as he watched her reach for it with her gloved hands.
“Rocks aren’t made of velvet,” she replied. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder, unimpressed, before resuming her digging.
Lucien waited somewhat patiently as Elain wiggled the box out of the ground, taking off her gloves to gently pry it open. He got up off the blanket and walked over to her as she gasped.
“Lucien,” she said, her hands shaking, “Why is there a ring in my flowerbeds?”
He sat down next to her and gently took the box from her hands, the ring sparkling in the sunlight. “Because I want to marry you.”
“What?” she replied, her mouth falling open just slightly. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious.” He reached forward to take her hand with his free one, her hands warm from being in the sun. “We’re in love and we make each other happy. I can’t imagine my life without you. Why not get married?”
Elain threw herself at him, toppling them backwards into the dirt, but Lucien didn’t mind one bit. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes—”
He somehow managed to get the ring out of the box and onto one of her fingers with her completely straddling him — who knew if it was the right one — while she kissed him senseless.
“I love you,” she said against his mouth.
“I love you too,” he said, unable to stop smiling. He’d never been happier than he was right now, especially when he realized he’d eventually be able to tell people Elain was his wife instead of his girlfriend.
Today could not have gone as she planned, why oh why did they have to tell her that they've been planning a birthday ball for her twelfth birthday tomorrow?
"May the light of the sun shine on you father." Aurelia Spell Cleaver, greets her father with a picturesque smile on her face
"And to you my darling little ember." Lucien, clad in his high lord toga of the Day Court and matching sandals rises from his office desk as he flashes a smile to her so wide that it could blind nearly anyone. Knowing his little ember, that specific smile she had on her face right now and the use of calling him "father" meant she intended to make a little "bargain" with him.
"So are you going to ask your 'father' of what it is you want?" He asks without beating around the bush.
"Can I be excused in my room for today and all of tomorrow?" In return I"ll..pick out all the weeds in mama's gardens instead of you!" There, that should sound reasonable to him.
"As if I will allow my only child to do such arduous work in the heat of day." Lucien's eyes narrowed, after everything he went through, he made a promise on the day of Aurelia's birth, to be the responsible and nurturing father for her that he was deprived of his whole life from his own biological father, Helion. Even if it involves something minute as preventing her from picking weeds in the royal gardens.
"But papa," he smiles at hearing her use his preferred title "Why would you and mama choose to have a birthday party for me? You know I'd prefer if it's just the five (including Helion and Lady Autumn) of us?!"
"Well it's your twelfth birthday tomorrow, and I think it's time for Day to formally meet its heiress." Elain walks in holding a measuring tape into her husband's study wearing a pink toga with pearls pinned to style her hair back.
"Mama, what are you measuring me for?" Aurelia ask with skepticism in her tone as she sees her mother crouch down her height to make measurements on her waist and chest.
"Giving your grandma the appropriate measurements for the dress she's having made for you to wear at tomorrow's ball." Elain tells her with a wink, before leaving the study with it and of course not forgetting to kiss her daughter on the cheek.
Aurelia let's out a nervous breath she didn't know she was holding.
"You know for being mine and your mother's daughter, it's quite amusing to see our kid averse to formal gatherings." Lucien then let's out a loud chuckle when she turns to him with a pout on her face.
"Then shall I be excused to roam around the Court on my own while you and mama dally in to the gardens?" She sasses back at him with her arms crossed.
In a flash of light, she found herself laughing while seated on her father's lap, only to find out her was tickling her belly.
"When did you get so coy all of a sudden little ember?" He playfully taunts her while he continues to tickle her mercilessly.
"Okay *laughing uncontrollably* okay...I give in."
"Much better." He stops, once he sees her face turn into a beaming smile at him.
After all it's what he treasured most in his little ember.
okay a suggestion for lucien week: elucien uni au but make it pregnancy scare 🤠
HAHAHAHAH THIS IS DIABOLICAL I LOVE IT
anyways check out @lucienvanserraweek for more Lucien goodness!
Elain Archeron was going to have a meltdown if she kept staring at the period app on her phone.
“This cannot be happening,” she hissed to herself. She’d been sitting on the toilet when she’d noticed one of her roommates had left a box of tampons on the bathroom counter, which had made her think about whether she needed to buy more, which made her realize she should be buying more because normally she’d be using them right now.
Then she’d had the awful realization that her periods usually came two weeks before Viviane’s, and the fact that her platinum-haired friend was having hers and Elain hadn’t gone through her own cycle wasn’t the best sign.
She finished using the bathroom and washed her hands before walking back to her room, her mind going a mile a minute as she worried what this could all mean. Was it too soon to freak the hell out and buy a pregnancy test? Should she say something to her boyfriend about it?
Lucien would be calm about this, she thought. I should say something.
They’d been dating for almost two years, ever since Feyre had played matchmaker and invited them both to her birthday party. Thinking about him always made Elain feel more grounded, like things would work out alright because he said so. He was just so clever and smart and quick-witted and he always knew how to get out of a bad spot.
She made the decision to call him and he thankfully answered on the first ring. “Hi, Munchkin.”
“Hi,” she said, suddenly nervous. “Um, what are you doing right now?”
“Walking home from the library,” he replied. “Are you okay?”
“Um… maybe? Maybe not?”
“That’s not the most reassuring thing in the world. What’s wrong?”
Elain couldn’t make herself say the words, because then that would make it too real. “Can you come over?”
Lucien managed to make his way to her apartment by following someone into her building. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as they walked into her room, and even her boyfriend taking her hands as he sat on her bed didn’t alleviate her anxiety.
“Elain,” he said softly, running his thumbs over the backs of her hands. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“My…” she trailed off. “My period is… um, it’s late.”
“How late?” he asked, his voice calm.
“Two weeks.” She shifted on her feet as she watched his face, intently looking for the smallest sign of panic, but there was none to be found. “I’m kind of freaking out here.”
“I know,” he said. He squeezed her hands before pulling her forward into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and warming her from the outside in. “I’m kind of freaking out too.”
Elain burrowed her face into his chest. “You seem pretty calm.”
“We can’t both be actively freaking out. It’s not conducive for the baby,” Lucien replied cheekily. Elain smacked whatever part of him she could reach, but he wasn’t done. “Do you think our baby will be a redhead?”
“Oh my god, shut up,” she exclaimed. “There isn’t supposed to be a baby!”
“I think brown eyes are a given,” he continued, grinning. “I just hope our baby isn’t as pale as you. No offense.”
She shifted in his lap so she was straddling him just so she could glare in a way her older sister would be proud. “You. Are. Not. Helping.”
“No, but you’re too busy being bad at me to be freaked out anymore,” he said. She glared even harder once she realized he was right.
“Whatever,” she grumbled. “And I hate to burst your bubble, but unless I have some redhead relative I don’t know about, that baby is going to be a brunette.”
Elain had never been more thankful when her period came a few hours later. Their babies would be absolutely gorgeous, she thought, but her boyfriend was nowhere near ready for parenthood.
I’m so happy to announce that this is a collab with my dear friend @ratabrasileira!!! Go show the beautiful drawing she did some love!!
rating: G
words: 2.2k
Elain searches the woods for flowers and finds more she ever expected. Sleeping Beauty Au
Elain left the cottage barefooted, the soft cushion of the grass comfortable and well known to her feet. The familiar and gratifying feeling of calm earth beneath her, steady and grounding, more than enough reason to forego any sort of shoes.
Roses, Feyre had chanted, the dreamy look in her sister’s eyes persisting ever since her chance encounter with a newcomer guard at the town square, the prettiest one you can find, please?
Elain had not the courage to tell her younger sister that she had picked fresh flowers just the day before, funny-shaped pink blooms Elain found at the lip of the stream near the border.
So, she had picked her basket - the one Nesta had gifted her on her last birthday, handmade by her older sister herself; a beautiful, intricate thing done with the hard-earned love of the hardest Archeron - and left, a spring to her step and a tune brimming in her throat.
The woods, the townspeople said, were older than the village by unaccounted years, and therefore filled with deep, wondrous and dangerous magic.
Elain, as well as her sisters, was orphaned too soon. A wasting sickness that had scourged their village had taken away both of her parents, one after the other, leaving only a nearly of age Nesta, a doe-eyed Elain, and a tear-stained Feyre.
Many years had passed since, the nebulous, all-consuming pain of the absence of their parents soothed by time. Despite her grieving, it never escaped Elain’s thoughts how lucky she was to have such wonderful people in her life: her kind neighbors; the quaint, energized people of the village, who never missed a chance for celebration; the old grouch at the square who made wooden figures just as her father once had; Feyre’s laugh, her creativity and Nesta’s attentive strength.
The woods, magical and mysterious, were a source of peace in Elain’s little life, too. A balm made of soft sunlight, fresh, perfumed breeze, and the singing quietness of wildlife.
She walked, shawl hanging on her elbows to ward off the slightest of spring chills. Elain sang to her heart’s content, a lively lyric dancing on her tongue and bouncing on the leaves of the tallest of trees, her heart soaring with each note she presented to her loved woodland.
With Feyre’s wishes in mind, Elain followed a path towards a grove, the humidity at the destination perfect for the birth of the deep pink roses which complimented Feyre’s complexion.
She crossed the old, sturdy old bridge that allowed passage over the river, her cottage’s mill no longer audible from where she stood.
“Hello, Mister,” Elain greeted the white, wild bunny, its twitching mustache smelling the air twice before hurrying on fast jumps towards her, a cupped palm of berries awaiting the animal’s eager mouth, allowing her to scratch its head “You’re rather famished this morning, aren’t you?” she asked. The bunny agreed with what seemed like and affirmative ear twitch before her furry friend scampered away to a nearby bush.
Then, singing about poets and kings, Elain continued her path through the meandering trees, her basket filling with dark, juicy berries - a few of them already staining her lips red - and multicolored flowers.
A bold, red little bird landed on Elain’s extended finger and enchantingly sung with her. Its melodic chirping lacing and harmonizing to the girl’s sweet voice, their impromptu duet accompanied by the rustling leaves and the gurgling stream.
How wonderful Elain felt, surrounded by nature, connecting to the air around her as if it had birthed her itself, offering it her voice. Respectfully reaping the charming flora, she found on her way, breathing their scent, befriending the forest animals, and spinning on the tip of her toes on the soft soil.
As she stopped dancing, her skirts still swishing around her calves from the last of her twirls, Elain noticed a magnificent shrub of the blooms she had braved the woods for, jewel-bright pink petals shining under sunbeams, as if the tress had organized themselves to create a spot of light for such earthly beauty.
Right then, the strangest of things happened.
With her heart jumping to her throat, beating frenetically against her ribs, Elain noticed a beautiful horse. Saddled, with a gleaming chestnut coat, dark eyes downcast, calmly munching on the grass near its hooves.
It wasn’t unheard of, horses in the woods, wild or otherwise, they were not far from the main road, but that was not what made Elain’s skin prickle with alertness.
A well-taken care horse as such must have a rider nearby.
“Samson,” called a male voice “There’s not much left to go.” The horse shuffled his legs, huffing before turning its nose away, back onto the moss.
“There will be carrots,” the voice tried again, with a tone of simulated indifference.
Caught like a fish on a hook, the horse’s great neck snapped up, looking at its rider, as if expecting the vegetable all at once. Stoic as the pair of them seemed, Elain had the impression Samson was kindly spoiled.
Elain, who could hear the rich sound of the stranger’s voice, had not yet distinguished his form in the shade beyond the grove she entered, but following the stallion’s gaze she finally sighted him.
Oh, but what a beautiful man he was.
Stranger was tall and broad-shouldered, with a scar marking the side of his face, slitting his brow and narrowly missing his eye - which seemed to be a disconcerting shade of brown -And had been made silvery by time. He had the most vibrant shade of red hair she has ever seen, dark like autumn leaves and silky like water.
He was the most beautiful human she has ever seen.
Stranger, however, had yet to notice her.
And as handsome as he was, Elain was clever enough to realize that a quick, silent escape was the safest option.
Slowly, she walked one step back.
The crunch of the branch beneath her foot echoed loudly, too loudly to be confounded by an innocuous wildlife sound.
Elain couldn't raise her eyes to look at him, attention glued to the sword holstered at his hip.
“Be not afraid, lady. I’ll take my leave in a moment,” Stranger said in a placating tone, palms deliberately upraised for her benefit.
The woods turned to music at the exact moment their eyes met.
A world-altering spark of recognition lighted in her mind.
A stranger in the woods, merry music, dancing fireflies, and singing birds, trees being led by the wind as if women in a ballroom, her vision spinning, and her body lighting up like fireworks. A hand on her waist, a choreography her body must have been made for performing, such ease it was to allow it to guide her away.
Dreams, she remembered, wonderful dreams which always kept her under her covers for a moment too long, always ending way too soon, leaving longing as a dent in her pillow.
Now he was right in front of her.
“I know you,” she whispered, words slipping through her lips like birds escaping a cage, her hands shaking.
He was dressed in well-made traveling clothes, dark pants, finely done knee-length boots she had only ever glanced upon whenever wealthier people crossed the town to check on their local businesses, but those deftly dressed gentlemen couldn’t have looked better than the man even with the priciest of fineries. Elain resisted the urge to press her hands to her cheeks, heated and pink from noticing Stranger only wore a thin, unruffled poet’s shirt, - his cape and hat using the nearby trees as hangers - its open laces revealing golden skin and wisps of red hair.
Elain had never felt self-conscious of her looks or clothes, the townspeople dressing similarly to her (even if Elain herself had one of the best sewing hands in their village). Her current outfit was a simple corset with boning made out of prepped hedgehog spikes, the plain fabric embellished with neat seams and picturesque figures Elain had stitched herself; a brown, light skirt - easy to wash and easier to hide soil stains - and, what now she deemed absurd due to the grime on her nails, no slippers.
“And I, you,” he answered as in a daze, hands falling limply at his sides.
“Do you hear it?” Elain made her voice firm, lifting he chin but with her knees slightly bent, ready to run.
“Yes, my lady,” he took a step, then two, until a stretch of his arm would land his hand on her shoulder.
But he didn’t move to touch her.
Elain swallowed, the breeze cooling her body, eyes downcast, legs now motionless and nearly failing her.
“Why won’t you let me see your eyes, my lady?” She couldn’t be sure, for she knew him not, but there was pleading in his tone.
“I’m afraid, my lord, that if I look at you, I’ll awake and leave this dream,” she whispered, surprised, but not fearful, of her words. “And you’ll fly away from my grasp,”
Suddenly shy of her newly found boldness, she turned her back to him.
“I’m-" She started, voice small.
“No, please.” Elain saw a shadow over her shoulder but wouldn’t dare to guess. “Forgive me for my requests, my lady, you need not give me anything, I-”
He sounded... embarrassed.
She found it endearing.
The song of the woods shifted to a village rhythm she knew well.
“Dance with me,” he called.
A gasp fell freely from her mouth, the ghost of a touch on her hand.
Slowly, she turned back to face him and realized her mistake.
His eyes were not brown, but a vibrant russet shade, complimenting his hair better. Elain had heard only the continent bred humans with the most varied and colorful bodies.
“I forgive you,” she mouthed, her throat no longer functional.
There were callouses on his palms if from holding reins or sword fighting, she couldn’t determine, but they were so gentle against her skin she barely put any mind to it.
A blast of sound surrounded them, as if the song recognized their meeting, rejoicing in their movements, magnifying their volume to ensconce the pair of them in a cloud of magic. Elain allowed her stranger to spin and lead her in the dance of her dreams.
She couldn’t help to laugh and smile and giggle as they swayed in impossibly rehearsed arrangements, his wide, carefree, delighted grin pouring sunshine into her chest.
Time turned to a growing bloom, following the natural, slow, unpreoccupied pace of life. A hundred dances thrummed with them while the small pointer of the square clock circled once.
At that time, the resounding, deep clang of the church’s bell chiming twelve times broke through the magic steering the couple.
Elain ceased her steps, the pang of reality downing on her face, awareness washing the enchanted fog in her mind.
She let go of Stranger’s hand, the melodies dimming to a quiet hum, tempting her as a distance siren song,
“I must go,” she told him, yet unable to move.
“So soon?” he asked earnestly, arms lovingly tightening around her waist, not caging, only a gentle embrace.
“Oh, please, I must have my leave. Your lordship certainly has somewhere to be. I don’t even know what to call you-“ she babbled in a rush.
Stranger pressed his nose to the sliver of skin above her neck line, as if he couldn’t help himself, as if she were a saint and he a devotee. Elain lost the breath in her lungs, head lulling back, her words cutting themselves short.
“It’s yours,” “My name, my heart, my soul. It’s all yours. I’m Luc-“
Hurriedly, Elain lifted his head and pressed her pointer and middle finger to his mouth, “You must not tell me your name,”
“I heard your voice,” he admitted, a portrait of hope in his face, gently grasping her wrist “I deviated from the road to look for the angel whose song I was lucky to listen. But the singing stopped, as it was never there in the first place,”
“The woods have a mind of their own” she whispered to herself, eyes roaming around as if searching.
“I found you once I let Samson rest for a moment,” he continued, uninterrupted, as though afraid she would vanish in a poof of light.
“Please, my lady. Can’t you see? One is never to deny a gift from the Gods,”
“Are you a believer, Stranger?”
“Now, I am,” he said, his gaze unfaltering, “Will you allow me to reveal my name to your Ladyship?”
“I’m no lady,” she said, taking her hand from the warmth of his, regretting it immediately, “I must have my leave,” How would she explain her tardiness to Nesta? Oh, how reckless she was acting.
“At least allow me to take you to your home, my lady,”
Elain knew deep in her gut as clearly as she knew the color of the sky and the name of her favorite flowers that he would never hurt her.
But her oldest sister warning echoed in her conscience, coiling its limbs around her, refraining her voice.
The universe, it seemed, understood her decision.
Samson let out a loud neigh, attracting her love’s attention for just long enough.
“I’ll see you in my dreams,” she promised as he turned around to watch his horse.
And ran away, deep into the woods.
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Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes and comments make my day.
Special thanks to @moononastring and @silvergriff for hosting this awesome event, @separatist-apologist for being the kindest and most considerate beta reader I could ever hope for.
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"Elain allowed her stranger to spin and lead her in the dance of her dreams. She couldn’t help to laugh and smile and giggle as they swayed in impossibly rehearsed arrangements, his wide, carefree, delighted grin pouring sunshine into her chest."
This is a fanart in collaboration with @rarephloxes' fanfic!! Go read it, her work is amazing!!
Headcanon - when the spell the Lady of Autumn cast over Lucien to hide his Day Court powers finally breaks and Lucien finally has enough power to winnow he is going to TRIP BALLS lolll he’s going to be like cauldron how do you all do this all the time??? it is so disorienting what the actual fuck
he’ll also be so powerful (think of how long all that power has been held back/suppressed. Remember Aelin’s wall of fire in Kingdom of Ash?? YEAH. THAT) that he just. winnows sometimes. he can’t control it, because he’s too strong, and he starts thinking of random people and then popping in on them by accident.
which quickly becomes a very inconvenient occurrence.
one time he’s thinking he really ought to ask Rhys a question and accidentally winnows into the River House when Rhys has Feyre spread open on his desk. of course, Rhysand being Rhysand doesn’t stop moving. he just looks up at Lucien with a rogueish grin, and asks “oh? Looking to join in, Lucien? you’re welcome to.” (Lucien slaps a hand over his eyes and stumbles back towards the door, bumps into the wall, hand fumbling around to open it so he can leave. Feyre is trying to cover up/yell at Rhys but she’s also right there and oh god Rhys—and so Lucien ends up hearing something he hasn’t had to hear since the Spring Court though it’s so much fucking louder now and it’s just a no good very bad day. he’s going to go drink an entire bottle of fire whiskey now, and crawl into a hole to die, thanks a lot.)
He considers that he is very thankful he is unable to winnow into the House of Wind. He knows if he’d barged in on Cassian and Nesta he would be both traumatized for life, and in mortal peril. He has run from her before, and would not like to do it again any time soon. (”I didn’t know the book was yours, Nesta!” “you’re a dirty liar, Lucien Vanserra! GIVE IT BACK!” “but i’m right at the good part!” “I DON’T CARE!”)
The next time he winnows its into a pile of mud that Elain is trying to coax into being good planting ground or something and she starts giggling as he looks down and sees his favourite pair of green velvet shoes ruined. (“Oh? Were you thinking of me, Lucien?” she teases. Lucien, usually so smooth with words can only stammer and babble about how he was really just interested in mud, oh, is that a mushroom? how fascinating, it’ll be perfect for his research, simply a strange coincidence this is the same mud puddle…)
needless to say a few days later Lucien winnows in on Elain by accident one night just as she’s making herself climb right up into a release. he’s stammering out an apology when she comes suddenly with a cry, moaning Lucien—and, well. who is he to say no when she asked so sweetly?
recently, I talked about how much I would have liked to have seen elain meet lucien as a human under different circumstances, here’s a drabble that was/is supposed to be a part of a bigger work (inspired by taylor’s enchanted cause literally what else do I get inspired by) that I have worked on like 4 months ago
@lucienvanserraweek
Nesta pulled her aside before Elain could leave, grabbing her arm forcefully, and reminded her of something she’d been whispering into her ear for years now. Elain rolled her eyes, not bothering to reply anymore. Nesta could be too protective sometimes and she wasn’t aware how much it had started to bother Elain recently. She was twenty-two now, but she supposed she would always be a little girl to her older sister. It was endearing, but it was also annoying. “Have a nice time, Nesta”, she muttered, not daring to look her in the eyes, and wandered off. Nesta could be as intimidating as she was protective. She didn’t want to stick to her side the entire time and scare away good company, knowing how Nesta got at these types of events. She’d be watching her like a hawk the entire night anyway.
Elain allowed herself a glass of wine. She had thought about it the whole day – whether she should even try some of the drinks that would be offered. But she was here with her father and her sisters, what could possibly happen to her? Just for once she did not want to be the scared and shy little girl clinging to her sister’s skirts like a five-year-old. The wine was surprisingly sweet and fruity, and she licked her lips as she looked around the ball room. It was simply incredible, she had to admit. Elain had often been at balls and dances and any kind of social events, really, but never ever had she been at a location like this manor. It looked elegant, and there was nothing simplistic about the decorations that adorned the halls. Silvery candle stands in all sizes, curtains that seemed to have been hung up for this event and this event only. But it was the flowers especially that made Elain’s heart beat faster. Flowers in all colours hanging from the ceiling, decorating all entrances and exits, flowers on the ladies’ dresses that seemed almost alive as they were swirling through the rooms. Elain was careful to not betray her awe in case anyone might notice. This was a High Lord’s home after all.
Feyre was nowhere to be spotted. She was probably enjoying the fading sunlight on the outside and trying to memorise the sight to paint it in the morning. If she even decided to go to bed. Elain was more surprised to see Nesta looking daggers at a big bulky man towering over her. The smile on his face, Elain could see it from a distance, was lazy and provoking. As if he wanted to make her angry, show some emotion other than the coldness she usually reserved for strangers. Elain almost, almost, made her way over to her elder sister, but for some reason she halted. Because for a brief moment, she could’ve sworn a smile tugged at Nesta’s lips.
“Thank the Cauldron you on your own accord, I would’ve almost felt bad to have interrupted you when you looked so positively determined,” a voice startled her. Elain tried not to cringe as she turned to look at the man on her right. Male — not man. It was a male standing next to her, a fox mask concealing his face. She could still see the smile gracing his lower half was charming, which could not be said about the brutal scar she spied beneath the mask. It seemed to stretch across the entire right side of his face.
Elain’s breath caught. She did not know what to say, she’s never spoken to any of the fae before and it would be a lie to say she was not intimidated. All she could suddenly remember were the things Nesta had told her over the years. Elain blinked and tried to not look scared. But thinking about how displeased her Nesta would be seeing her talk to a fae, Elain could not help but blurt out, “My sister told me to stay away from males like you.” She blushed right after she said those words. She sounded like a child, and she wished, not for the first time in her life, that she could take those words back.
“And what would the world be like if we listened to what our siblings told us all the time? Terribly boring, wouldn’t it?”
Her eyes narrowed. A troublemaker. Of course it would be a troublemaker invading her peace and quiet on a night like this. He laughed at the sight of her in front of him. She must have looked ridiculous with that frown on her face. “Can you really find fault with me trying to ask the most beautiful being in these halls for a dance tonight?”
Elain looked him up and down, trying not to feel flattered at his word choice. Not most beautiful woman, but being. But dancing – she almost felt giddy at the prospect of dancing. How long had it been? Maybe two months. Too long anyhow.
But dancing with this male? She didn’t know whether he was joking. Didn’t know how long he might have been watching her before approaching her. Or why. “I didn’t realise you were asking me for a dance.”
She could feel it in her cheeks then, how she blushed at his next act when he stepped away and bowed extravagantly, excessively and yet respectfully as to not embarrass her in front of … well, everyone. He didn’t even think about it. For some reason it irritated her and she bristled, tried to imitate Nesta’s guarded and cold look her sister had perfected over the years. The male in front of her did not seem bothered at that. If anything, it seemed to amuse him.
“Would you do me the greatest honour of my life and share the next dance with me?” Elain hated how serious he sounded while giving her his most disarming smile. Hated how he intrigued her at the same time.
“And how long exactly would that life have been already?”
“Are you calling me old?”
“I’m not calling you anything. I’m simply curious.” She did not want to give in easily, though every muscle in her body craved to dance. He looked like an acceptable partner. He was taller than her, much taller, and reasonably muscled. Not like the male Nesta had been talking to – or not talking to earlier.
“Curiosity killed the cat, isn’t that what you humans like to say?” She could tell by the growing grin on her opponent’s face how he was enjoying their conversation, and she hated how flustered it made her. For a second, she hoped her own mask would conceal the redness on her cheeks, but she somehow doubted it.
“Well, good for you that you’re not a cat,” she said inspecting his fox mask closely. Its orange and red shades were lighter than the ones she could see reflected in his long hair. His whole demeanor – it seemed as if was the exact opposite of her. Easy-going, informal, relaxed.
She almost wished to see his face, just once. Which is why, that’s what she told herself afterwards, she gave in and nodded. “Fine.”
The handsome stranger simply laughed while taking her hand. She was surprised at how soft and warm his hand felt and could’ve sworn her heartbeat increased at that. “Good for me, indeed.”
A/N Ngl this turned into an Elucien one shot rather than just a Lucien one, but it still centers around him so I hope that’s okay😅 I’ve had this idea of Elucien’s future in my head for a while now and I hope I was able to get my thoughts out properly. This is my first writing piece ever so please be gentle with it as I tried my very best. I hope you enjoy it☺️
Word count: 1500+
Elain was never one for dreams. Sure she had them, but they were shattered before they had the chance to become a reality. Whether that be because of her mother’s insistence that all she was good for was marriage and beauty, her father’s neglect after their fortune was lost, or her life as a human washed away with the water of the Cauldron, Elain’s dreams were always out of reach to the point where she stopped having them.
But, sitting there in the Spring Court before the High Lord meeting began, surrounded with the flowers she spent hours grueling over, her title as High Lady, and above all, her fox, her mate, her love sleeping soundly in her lap, Elain couldn’t help but think that her dreams had just begun.
The room was similar to mine in shape, but was bedecked in hues of orange and red and gold, with faint traces of green and brown. Like being in an autumn wood. But while my room was all softness and grace, his was marked with ruggedness. In lieu of a pretty breakfast table by the window, a worn worktable dominated the space, covered in various weapons. It was there he sat, wearing only a white shirt and trousers, his red hair unbound and gleaming like liquid fire. Tamlin’s court-trained emissary, but a warrior in his own right.
I have never seen anyone talking about this scene and I love it not only for the last sentence but because it shows that there are things about Lucien that he doesn’t show people. People usually see him as someone who adapts well to different places, a person who has his interests linked to social skills. In this scene we can see that he has other interests and that although everyone thinks he has cut his ties with the autumn court, he has decorated his personal space with his colors.
I was thinking a lot about future Day Court Lucien and Helion and LOA and basically I really want Lucien to have a little sister, so:
- LOA and Helion weren't really trying for more kids but it just kinda happened
- They have a little girl - it would be cool if she was kinda the opposite looks-wise - as in she looks a lot like LOA but she has Helion's coloring, with black hair and amber eyes
- at first LOA and Helion are worried about it being awkward, because's Lucien's childhood was so messed up and now his sister gets like the perfect upbringing?
- but Lucien loves her instantly and just dotes on her - he really enjoys getting to be the older sibling, especially giving her the support he lacked from his brothers growing up
- she gets into lots of trouble (she's a curious, mischievous little thing) and whenever LOA and Helion try to discipline her he's the one who sneaks her sweets and toys (Helion would totally WANT to do this but LOA raised 7 kids already, she's taking no crap, and she makes him stand firm with her so they present a unified front)
- she always wants Lucien to do fire tricks, and he has so much fun showing off for her
- this kinda backfires (literally) when her powers start manifesting at 5 years old - "what are you doing?!" "I'm doing the fire trick like Lu!"
- yeah I think she should call him Lu it would be adorable
-When she gets older she goes to Lucien for fashion advice - ("I am not asking dad, he wears different variations of the same toga every single day! You're the only one in this family with any sense of style")
