Gelli. December Baby. Sagittarius. Geek. FOR THE HORDE. Lifestyle changing. Crazy Cat Lady Reblogger. OnePiece. Harry Potter. Naruto. Game of Thrones. Sherlock. World of Warcraft. Hearthstone. Cooking. Lolita Fashion. I mainly reblog whatever I find funny or interesting.
♥ 1001 things in 101 days♥ X
This is how I imagine Lucien in my head! Strong, extremely handsome, and dripping with MMC energy! He's had so many bad ass scenes, including beheading someone, going on a mission so dangerous Rhys wouldnt risk himself or others, while Lucien welcomed the challenge. He returned with Papa A and 3 ships, and came back unscathed.
Lucien is charismatic, kind, loyal, a rakish flirt, daring, brave, and incredibly intelligent! He has been at the helm of all the big plot points happening and I know these next books are going to be his moment to shine!
Lately I've seen SO MUCH Lucien hate it's ridiculous! From people making tasteless art of him being murdered for 'shits and giggles', to people calling for his public execution to be live streamed, to people making fun of his hair color, his mechanical eye, the way he'd rather fight with words and wits, and a plethora of surface level BS that calls into question THEIR character and not his.
He's objectively been written as a GOOD guy, but some people treat him worse than they ever did obvious villains like KoH, Ianthe, Beron, etc! None of these villains get as much hate as Lucien does, all because he is mated to an Archeron and isn't a bat boy with mommy issues.
So, I wanted to draw a picture of Lucien, who has been written as extremely handsome and is constantly reminding the reader of how HOT he is. He's brave, daring, an extremely efficient and successful spymaster, made his way through a battlefield unscathed, would take a beating and would risk his life for his friends. Who has given Elain space to choose, who has only cared about her health, putting aside his wants for her, who has always given her credit for the brave things she's done.
Here's to the Lord of foxes, the son of the HL of day, the son of Lady of Autumn, the man who keeps giving everything he's got to help others even at the risk of his own life and happiness. The future High lord, and mate to the often equally overlooked and under appreciated Elain Archeron, To SJM's 'My <3'!
I cannot WAIT to dig into their story! It will certainly be a feast for me!
Am I surprised that a feast for foxes would feature charcoochie for Elain and Lucien? I bet they’ll only have time for small bites after the autumn soup Elain would be making for her acceptance
One bed, but Lucien and Elain respectfully have a wall of pillows between them.
The fire is slowly dying and Elain is shivering from the cold. She wakes Lucien up to tend the fire.
He stares at her, bleary-eyed, as she begins with “I’m cold” before he moves all the pillows, just pulls her in and wraps his arms around her.
She’s stupefied as he adjusts to fit her better. Elain couldn’t argue. She’s warm, pleasantly so, even without the fire. She looks up at Lucien to see a small smile on his lips before his warmth lulls her back to sleep.
The High Lady and the High Lord of the Day Court☀️🤍
I like to think of this drawing as maybe their wedding, or mating ceremony?? Or when thev go together to see the Day Court🌸🦊 But it's up for interpretation haha
I knoooow I'm late for Elucien week, but I really really wished to make something for them, because I'm in love with this couple🥹
And partly because it takes so long for the book details to be revealed😭
I wanted to point out some details, so that you get to enjoy this drawing as much as I did when adding them!!
Firstly, if you look at Elain's hair and at Lucien collar, you'll see that I drew some Jasmine flowers, because that's what Elain smells like;
Elain has the pearl earrings Lucien gifted her, along with some pearls scattered through her hair. I found out that pearls represent purity and innocence, just like Elain🥹 And they also quiet strength, love and loyalty🤍
I gave Elain a ring with solar motifs. Engagement ring??👀 who knows??
Both her and Lucien have solar motifs on their clothes, to highlight his heritage;
She's tenderly touching his scar and through this, I wanted to show that he's finally found someone who truly loves him, after a life of suffering and being unwanted. Pure joy for both of them🫶🏻
It was a bit of a challenge to put this drawing together, but I may have succeeded:)) I hated it for a very long time and I had to keep restarting it, because something just looked off. But I'm glad I did, because I kept all of my previous attempts and I can finally see the improvement:)) Can you believe I started this almost 2 years ago??💀
Btww I know I kinda disappeared from tumblr, and I shouldn't have, but I had so much work to do for uni preparation, that I didn't have the energy to check it here and I was kinda avoiding losing time on here🙈 but I'm back (don't believe me 100%, I tend to disappear haha)
Hello! I'm back with another tarot card question for interpretation.
I saw this question and tarot card answer, and I'd like your thoughts on it: What will Elain's character arc be like as an emissary: the tower tilted favoring upright
Thank you very much for taking the time to answer my question!!🙇♀️
Hello anon! Sorry about the craziness of the last couple of days, I haven’t had the chance to answer this until now. The Tower is pretty straightforward where fundamental change happens.
Tower appearing can be scary because it means life as you know it falls apart because something foundational is no longer supporting it.
So, Elain’s character arc as an emissary means that it’s going to be life changing for her and it’s really not going to be easy but absolutely needed.
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
Read on AO3 ・ Series Masterlist ・ Previous Chapter
-
4 years later
Time was a linear thing to most people.
But inside the forest's heart, time stood still.
At last, the overlapping tides of past and present and future were no longer in perpetual push and pull against the shores of Elain's mind. There was only here. And here was a cottage with a hearth, and a roof, and a loving family.
Here was a shelter. A bubble of peace separating them from a world that had possessed so little good.
Do you ever blame the forest, she'd once asked Lucien's mother, for keeping us trapped here?
How could I? She'd replied. The forest has brought me everything I've ever loved.
It was easier for Elain to let go of her anger when she had reflected on this. On how the forest had brought her to Lucien, and Lucien had in turn brought her to the forest. They were all interconnected through roots of fate that stretched to ancient reaches of Prythian, perhaps all the way back to the Cauldron itself. She could hold the forest no more accountable than she could hold the moon or the sea. It was only doing what it had been created to do—searching for sunlight. Searching for warmth.
And there was so much of it here, now that it had brought them together.
"You have that look your face," Lucien noted, sitting up from the pile of furs they used as their bed. They had retired for the evening to their bedroom—a space that Lucien had taken upon himself to build so that they could have their privacy. "What are you thinking about?"
"Fate. What a peculiar thing it is and how, despite it all, I find myself very thankful for it."
His eyes held a tempting softness—the kind that practically begged her to fall into his body and relish his touch. She was moments from doing so when he asked, "Have you worked it out, yet?"
This gave her pause. "Worked out what?"
"What I've known from the moment I met you."
A secret between them was a rare. Talking was how they entertained themselves most days, which meant there was scarcely a thought that Elain didn't share with her husband, and she'd believed the reverse to be true. Except he was staring at her, now, with a gravity that suggested otherwise.
In her chest, his heart stuttered a beat.
She tipped her head to the side, thinking. "That the forest drew us together?"
"Yes, but I'm referring to the reason why." There was something endearingly boyish about the shy smile he gave her—a look she did not often associate with her impish husband, and more fuel for her curiosity. "Do you truly not know? I thought you were the seer between us."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Lucien."
"I'm talking about how I belong to you." His hand closed around hers, their combined attention dropping to the dainty ring she wore on her finger as his thumb brushed over it. "And you belong to me."
"Yes." Elain waited for him to say more, but he finished there, as if it was a great revelation.
Her brows scrunched. She was growing impatient with his opaque meaning. "Lucien, what are you—"
"There's a word for it, Elain. You've never used it. I thought, in time, it would become as obvious to you as it is to me. Do you not… feel it?"
There, in her chest, where she felt that second heartbeat thundering against her ribs. A pull. The same sensation that had drawn her to the forest on the night they met. She had felt it many, many times, as if someone were tugging on a string. She'd always intuitively known Lucien was on the other end.
"I feel it," she said, still frowning. "But what should I be working out?"
His laugh was colored in shades of exasperation and fondness. "That you're my mate, Elain."
Mate. Oh, yes. She'd forgotten there was a word for it. The connection between them. Elain had always felt its presence, but had come to simply associate it with Lucien. Where he went, a piece of her soul followed, and that was how it had always been.
She giggled. "You think I didn't know?"
"You've never said anything about it!"
"But it's so obvious," she protested. "Do you need me to tell you what color the sky is, next?"
Lucien groaned. "Insufferable female! I've been waiting for you to say something about it for years."
"We're already married," she pointed out. "It changes very little."
He huffed. "I suppose you're right." Again, his thumb rolled over her wedding band. He had a habit of touching it, and she knew from the soft look in his eyes that the mere sight of it pleased him. "You'll always be my wife, above all else."
It was some time later, after they had fallen into bed together, and Elain was draped naked over his chest, when Lucien brought it up again.
"When you were talking about fate earlier—what were you thinking on, if not our mating bond?"
Elain gave a lazy shrug, already suspended halfway between the realm of waking and sleeping. The slow drag of his long fingers through her hair was not helping matters.
"I was thinking of the forest," she said, nuzzling her face deeper into his neck. The smell of him was stronger there, cedarwood and nectar. "And how bringing us here was, in its own way, a gift."
"A gift…" He hummed in thought, and she felt the vibrations in all the places their skin was flush. "Every gift has its strings, I suppose. But I'd pay any price if it meant meeting you."
"Would you want to leave?" She asked on a yawn. "If It was possible?"
"That would depend."
"On what?"
"Whether you would come with me. Wherever you go, I will follow. Always."
-
Elain didn't intend to mull over what was, really, a hypothetical question.
If she could leave the forest, would she want to?
It was not helpful to dread on things she could not change. The forest meant safety. And memories. And love. But when Helion's last visit brought unexpected news from Autumn, she couldn't help but ruminate.
Beron Vanserra was dead.
Lucien's eldest brother, Eris, would inherit the title of High Lord, and Lucien was certain Eris had no interest in searching for his father's long lost "treasure" or exiled son.
There was no reason to hide anymore. But there was still a reason to stay.
Elain had loved their time in the cottage. Days were slow, but never unfulfilled. She spent her mornings gardening beside Lucien's mother and her evenings curled up in her husband's arms. But Elain still missed her sisters. And Lucien's mother missed Helion on the days he had to leave—for he always had to leave, as heir to a court of his own.
With Beron dead, the only thing tethering them to the cottage were the memories they didn't want to lose.
Over the years, they had trialed various methods of overcoming the curse, but each was met with disappointing results. If Helion tried bottling the pool to carry with him on his journey, its contents evaporated into mist before he could step out of lantern's light. Ingesting it proved ineffective, as did soaking items in its water to wear on his person.
They'd been forced to accept that leaving the cottage would mean leaving behind all the lovely memories they had made within its walls. But that did not mean Elain stopped wondering what sort of life could be waiting for them out there.
"If we have children here, they'll want to leave one day." This was becoming a never-ending conversation, these what ifs and buts and maybes, perpetually talking themselves in and out of going. Elain knew Lucien was only absently listening, and she was really just musing out loud. "They'll have to if they want to meet someone. And if they're anything like I was, they'll sneak into the forest the moment they have the opportunity, heedless of any warnings we give them. What if we lose our child in the forest?"
"You want to have children?" Lucien asked, lowering the basket he'd been weaving from thin strips of boiled oak.
Elain cast him a chiding look. "Is that all you heard?"
His pupils had gone a bit wide. "As in, now?"
"Are you even listening?" She picked up an errant twig and chucked it at his head, which he caught with infuriating ease. "I'm saying that I don't think we should if we're going to stay here."
He swallowed. "So you're saying—you want to have children, now? Just not here?"
"You're impossible." With a huff, Elain dusted off her skirt and rose to her feet. "I'm going to go find your mother. She won't go baby crazy on me."
Lucien snorted. "You don't think she'd seize any and all chances for grandchildren? If you're not careful, she'll shove us in a room together and lock the door."
"Well…" Elain bit her lip. "That doesn't sound so bad."
Now the basket was being tossed aside altogether. Lucien had a dark look in his eyes, one that always made her feel a bit like wax venturing too close to a flame. Her knees were already losing function, her insides turning lose and molten. If she didn't escape now, she'd become a puddle that he would peel off the floor and toss onto the nearest bed.
Which again… didn't sound like the worst thing.
"Get into our bedroom, Elain."
"W-why?"
His predatory stare took a turn for something smug. "Because the last time I fucked you in the garden, you were mortified that my mother—"
Elain squeaked and darted forward to cover his mouth. "You promised not to bring that up again!"
The grin peaking beneath her fingers was utterly shameless.
"Then go lay on our bed like a good girl, and I'll give you exactly what you've asked for."
Oh, goddess. Elain suddenly doubted her legs would be able to take her that far. They were trying to pull her towards the earth, practically saying, Why not just let him take you right here? And if it weren't for the fact that her mother-in-law need only glance out the kitchen window to see what they were doing, Elain might have let him.
But before she could force her legs to obey, she heard an exclamation from inside the cottage. It was one of joy, and was accompanied by the rumble of a dark voice that announced Helion had returned from his most recent venture to the Day Court. He would not remember why a red-haired woman was flinging herself into his arms and peppering his face with kisses, but he never seemed terribly inconvenienced by it, either.
"Looks like making children might have to wait," she said coyly.
Lucien's stare was blistering. "Only until I get you alone."
-
Helion's visit brought with it the typical updates from the outside world. How Autumn Court was faring since Eris took the throne, an upcoming wedding in the Spring Court, the latest fashion trends in Day (which he'd brought as gifts).
When it was time to go, he asked the same question he always did.
"Are you sure you can't come with me?" He was looking at Lucien's mother, but the question was addressed to all of them. "If I write myself a note, you know I'll honor it. My heart always recognizes you before my mind does, anyway."
This was where Lucien's mother usually looked to Lucien and Elain. At some point, it had become clear that she was ready to leave, but she would not do so if it meant leaving her son behind. Never again.
But she did not look at Lucien and Elain this time. Nor was she looking at Helion. Instead, her gaze was transfixed on the lantern.
"We've never tried moving it," she whispered, her head tilted as though she were listening to something.
Elain listened, too.
Try it, said the wind, rustling through the trees. We have kept you long enough.
Helion unhooked the lantern, his expression intrigued. "Shall I take it with me as another test?"
The forest, like many of the Mother's creatures, was covetous in nature. Lonely, too. She understood why it had woven its roots so irrevocably through the tapestry of her story. Always pulling and tugging with the intention of keeping her at its heart.
She did not understand why it would be letting her go so easily.
Why now?
At first, silence.
Then, Elain heard the harsh crunch of leaves under racing footsteps. It was distant—a sound that had not yet occurred in the physical world. A future yet to pass.
Another comes to replace you.
"Wait." Lucien held a hand out to stop Helion. "If you take the lantern, will that cause us to forget once we're outside its light?"
"You could wait by the pool," Helion suggested. "I'll write a note to return once—"
"It's not necessary," Elain interrupted. Lucien's mother nodded her head to agree. "Moving the lantern will work."
Helion looked nervous. "Should you write yourselves a letter just in case?"
"It will work," Elain repeated confidently. "But there's still a letter I would like to write. And some things I'd like to pack before we go."
She turned to her husband, delighted to see a smile—a genuine smile—spread across his face.
"We're truly free?" He asked. "We can go anywhere we wish, and still remember who we are to each other?"
There was a bright, bubbly feeling threatening to burst from her chest. It was lessened only by her guilt in knowing someone else would be falling into the trap they were escaping.
"Yes," she answered, matching his smile with a tentative one of her own. "We're truly free."
"Then, where would you like to go?"
He asked it with a tone of such ready acceptance, as if she could truly name anywhere in the world and he would happily oblige. It was easy to answer, given how often she had thought about what she would do if she could leave.
"Let's go with your parents to the Day Court to start. But I'd also like to find my sisters."
Lucien nodded. "I'll go anywhere you wish, Elain. So long as I'm by your side."
"Then it's a good thing you married me," Elain said. "Because I intend to be by your side for the rest of our lives."
Bonus Epilogue:
Dear reader,
My name is Elain Archeron. I previously lived in this cottage.
If you are reading this, then you must be afflicted by the same memory curse that plagued my family for the many years we lived here.
There is a cure.
If you go to the pool at the back of the garden and stare at your reflection, you will find your memory returned.
Now that we have taken the lantern, I do not know what life might be like for you at this cottage. You may very well lose your memory the moment you look away from the pool.
If that's the case, then please come find me in the Day Court. I will help you restore your memory.
Until then, keep this note upon your person.
It will help you remember your goal of finding me.
Best of luck,
Elain Archeron
Feyre frowned as she read the note. She knew from the creases in the pages and the notes she had scribbled in the margin that this was not her first time reading it. But she could not recall any of the previous times.
She could not recall anything at all.
But the name… Elain Archeron. Why was it so familiar?
Probably because you've read this note a hundred times and don't remember it, she told herself, lowering the page with a frown.
She would need to find this Elain Archeron. But first, perhaps she should try looking in the pool Elain mentioned.
"There you are, Feyre Darling."
Feyre looked up to find the most beautiful male she had ever seen, standing in the doorway of the cottage.
Thank you so much to everyone who participated in Elucien Week 2026!
Our community's collective love for Elucien and for each other is always such a special event to witness and be a part of! It has been our greatest joy to see all the amazing creations you've been working so hard on!
This year, we received a record breaking number of fics in our AO3 Collection, with 63 total works submitted! We are astounded by and so grateful for this turn out that we wanted to extend a little thank you to all of the authors who helped us achieve this!
We’ve taken a look through all 63 works in this year’s collection and have sorted them into a quiz that will help you decide which one is perfect for you!
>>> Click here to take the quiz!
Once again, thank you to everyone who participated. We had such a fabulous week, and we can’t wait to see you again next year from July 18 - 24, 2027!
Summary: Everyone knows Earth is lost to humanity, a wasted rock destroyed by nuclear war five hundred years before they fled to the stars.
Or, that's what Elain Archeron believed right until she crash landed on Earth's surface.
Notes: Massive, important, MAJOR thanks to @chelseamorninggirl and @limeandorange for letting me bounce this fic off of them, and for reading whole chapters of it and giving me their thoughts. It wouldn't exist without your encouragement- thank you.
for @elucienweekofficial | Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
-
She didn’t see Lucien when she woke the next morning.
Elain couldn’t say she was horribly disappointed by it—she didn’t like the way he looked at her. There was a wariness in his expression that made her feel as if she’d done something horribly wrong. It wasn’t as if she’d asked to be dumped here, or made his problem.
Truthfully, Elain didn’t want to go back. Vassa, who was supposed to be introducing her to life on the surface, though Elain suspected was really monitoring her, had asked multiple times if Elain had someone she could call.
And of course she did, though Elain didn’t understand their system for speaking with one another. They didn’t have the right kind of tech. It was crude and reliant on a series of criss-crossing networks, all of which were being watched and monitored by their government.
Why would Elain send Nesta a message even if she could figure it out? She’d merely stared down at the square device in her hand before counting to two hundred, leaving the room, and giving it back to Vassa.
Ipad, that’s what Vassa called it.
Just like ponytail, the band for her hair. T-shirt, for the shape Elain supposed, though she’d been given a pair of coveralls with deep pockets and a sleeveless brown and green shirt to wear beneath. A few beige underthings that were so foreign to her, Elain had opted for her sweaty bra than try and figure out the current laced up contraption. It seemed, when pressed, humanity began traveling backward through their fashion traditions to find things that worked. Still, Elain missed zippers.
Truthfully, she missed very little about home. Even with the rough soap and the damp walls, there was light. Elain felt alive for the first time in her life—like she could see. She’d never known such color could exist, and in so many variations. Even Feyre’s paintings had never managed to capture the depths of all the shades of blue or the way violet and pink might swirl through it at dawn only to be replaced by gold and orange. The difference was so distinct, Elain could imagine both vividly.
It wasn’t like the other planets she’d seen. There was something different, something special. Elain suddenly understood how passionate other species could get when their home worlds were insulted or threatened. Her love of it all certainly made some of the realities more palatable.
Arina was gone, and Elain knew no one was looking hard for her. Was it wrong that Elain thought it was a fair trade? Arina was capable and clever—Elain didn’t doubt that her friend couldn’t talk her way back into space where she’d share what happened.
It was only right then that a horrible truth dawned on Elain. They didn’t know. No one knew there was a whole second civilization in the stars and if Elain had to guess, they probably weren’t going to let Arina return where she might find a way to leak the secret.
“Hungry?” Vassa asked, pulling aside a navy sheet. Elain nodded, barely paying attention to what she took.
“Well don’t eat it, peel and all,” Vassa cut in, catching Elain’s wrist before she took a bite of…a banana.
Laughter burst from her throat. It was exactly like the pictures she’d seen, though nothing quite like she imagined. For one, the yellow exterior had little brown spots on them, signs of oxygen and age sure, but also a little off putting. The texture was slightly rubbery and when she peeled it, the strings she’d always read about almost made her gag.
“I didn’t expect a banana to stump you,” Vassa joked, having finished hers. “Eat it—the potassium will help.”
“With what?” Elain questioned, nibbling the pointed end of the fruit. It was pleasant, though the texture was thicker than she’d expected. The flavor, though, was perfect. Subtle and soft, nothing like the overwhelming syrupy flavor of flavored banana.
“Well, we didn’t wake up overnight like this,” she joked, arms spread wide as a joke, “there have been a lot of nuclear wars.”
Elain merely blinked. Was she supposed to understand what any of that meant?
“There are radioactive isotopes in the air you breathe,” Vassa explained patiently.
“Oh. Space too,” Elain replied, wondering if Vassa intended to give her an irradiating vaccine. Elain bore a chip that delivered a low dose of medicine and monitored her blood levels. At home it was connected to her data pad which she kept on her at all times—if a reading was elevated, a high pitched beeping would emit from the pad and a larger than usual dose would be delivered.
Elain unbuttoned her coverall top and lifted her shirt to show the square device implanted into her hip bone. Vassa frowned.
“They track you, too?”
“What? No, this is a medical device,” Elain explained, ing the exposed piece before tucking her shirt back into her pants. “It keeps us protected from galactic cosmic rays and solar particle events—our clothes are also made of protective material and anyone out in space is legally required to wear special suits. We aren’t adapted to the harsh conditions but most of us live on planets with atmospheres.”
“But not you,” Vassa pressed, her brow still wrinkled. It wasn’t really a question, but Elain shrugged all the same, answering with a silence I don’t know you well enough yet.
“You still get the shot,” Vassa declared, arms crossed. Elain continued eating her banana.
“Alright,” she agreed.
Maybe she shouldn’t have so readily agreed—the needle was the biggest thing she’d ever seen and had been pressed into the fatty part of her thigh, which hurt so much a tear had slipped from the corner of her eye.
“You do this every month?” Elain breathed, trying to control her reaction.
“When we can,” Vassa agreed, “but getting the supplies is hard, and moving them across the country is harder. We stockpile…and hope for the best.”
Elain had a million questions, and unlike Lucien who was definitely avoiding her, Vassa didn’t mind the endless stream of them. As they walked through the base, Elain fired them off, one after another.
What happened to the planet?
Greed, Vassa had said somberly. To hear Vassa explain, it was simply the end conclusion of the system they’d build. “The language of freedom and the language of tyranny aren’t so different, I guess. Or maybe we simply couldn’t hear it,” Vassa had told Elain, stepping into the muggy morning air. “By that point, you couldn’t tell what was true and what was a lie, and no one seemed to mind all that much.”
“How do you get it back?” Elain asked. The task seemed insurmountable given the technological edge the Imperium seemed to hold. Not to mention the backing of the other worldstates. Elain had learned there two hundred and forty nine countries and territories before the world had been abandoned.
Now there were four.
“It happened at the same time,” Vassa explained, pressed a machete into Elain’s hands. It was for brush clearing and could be used as a weapon, though Vassa didn’t recommend it.
“Well, it started with Russia,” Vassa amended. “I suppose they got antsy and started their invasion into Europe before any of the other powers. It took the Imperium about six years to back them, and once they did…”
Elain let the silence hang for a moment.
“It’s like they all had an agreement of some kind. The Imperium in the West, Russia across Europe, China took all of Asia in the first bloodless war the world had ever seen, and Iran took the Middle East.”
“What’s left?” Elain asked.
“Middle and South Africa,” Vassa replied. “Their resistance is the blueprint—we built ours based on what they were doing, how they were pushing back the lines. They’re fighting Iran and Russia to the North and China to the south and they’ve held their ground.”
“You don’t think they’d all work together to defeat you if you managed to…you know…?” Elain felt awkward asking at all.
“Once, yes, I think they would have, but the glory days of their leadership are gone. We’re fractured, ruled by squabbling governors trying to enrich themselves and their spoiled, evil sons. Our president is the stupid, spoiled son of another stupid, spoiled man. There are no savants in these positions of power, just nepotism hires from a state that believes us so broken and beaten that it doesn’t matter if they’re effective. And sometimes they’re right.”
“What do you mean?”
“Their number one export is violence. Our leaders might not take pride in their work, but the every day man with a well paying job? He does, and when his job is protecting the state and the source of his income, he does his job well, too. They don’t have to do anything, anymore—just the fear of what they might do is enough.”
Elain didn’t need to press any further to understand. The population did the work for the Imperium for them because they had the ingrained memory of the violence that could occur, and likely would. Anger bloomed in her stomach as they walked, trampling the underbrush and cutting thick vines out of their way when needed.
Earth was supposed to be a paradise. In her daydreams, it had been a utopia, a place free of the ills of the galaxy. Instead, it seemed Earth was no better than the worst the galaxy had to offer, and might have served as the blueprint for what they were doing in the skies. Elain tried not to think about that, given how much of her own work was research. She grew bananas, of course…but she grew other things, too. Things Elain often understood could be warped into a biological weapon. That had been fine when she thought she was protecting humanity…not subjugating them.
“You don’t grow your own food here?” Elain asked.
Vassa paused, wiping sweat from her brow. Her vivid red hair was cut short, leaving a little nest of curls haloing her face. Like Lucien, she had a hollow, dark-eyed appearance to her though Vassa was much brighter, less heavy. Her cerulean eyes still gleamed with unmistakable optimism, her brown skin freckled from the sun. Vassa didn’t look haunted, yet.
Maybe it was her age, though. Elain couldn’t help but notice that everyone around them seemed no older than forty. Were the young simply drawn to riskier causes…or were they all that was left? Elain didn’t know what Earth did with their aging population, and given everything she’d learned, she didn’t think she wanted to know.
Vassa flung out her arm, stopping Elain. “There,” she whispered, using the tip of her blade to push apart some bushes.
“Is that—”
“A tank,” Vassa whispered, perhaps thinking Elain had never seen one. She hadn’t, or at least, not like this. It was massive, as big as a space craft commissioned to hold ten people. There were twelve tires, each larger than Elain was tall and wide.
“Why are we here?”
“A test,” Vassa said with a smile, pulling the knapsack from her shoulders. She reached inside and pulled out three incendiary devices, each roughly the size of Elain’s palm. “Pull the backing off and stick them underneath each wheel. When they turn the ignition, the tank will erupt and everyone inside will die.”
“How is this a test?” Elain asked.
“Well, Lucien would kill me for telling you, but….” she flashed Elain a bright grin, “if you’re one of them, we figure you’ll find a way to warn them, or sabotage.”
With a flash of temper, Elain hissed, “I’m not one of them.”
“Then this should be easy!”
It wasn’t—Elain’s nails were short which made peeling the transparent backing difficult. Her nerves were frayed as well. Every sound made her jump in the air, dropping her mines at her feet only to bend over and collect them once more. Vassa had to come over and help, her fingernail sliding beneath quickly.
“You’ll get the hang of it, newbie,” she promised, letting Elain stick each mine beneath a structural overhang. The silver clashed horribly with the camouflage, but unless someone did a thorough inspection, it would go unnoticed.
“I’ve never done anything like that before,” Elain admitted, her voice warbling with anxiety. “What if there are cameras—”
“There aren’t. Trust me,” Vassa added. “If they could, they would, though. They’d put cameras on every leaf on every tree if they could find a way.”
They were halfway back when the explosion happened. Even at that distance, the force sent them both flying through the air before slamming them back to the ground as if they were inconsequential. Nothing important. No one at all. Elain felt exhilarated, gasping for air as Vassa clambered to her feet. They’d done it, then. She’d proven herself.
Vassa extended a callused hand, one Elain took without hesitation. Their palms smacked together satisfyingly, and when Elain rose to her feet, Vassa was grinning.
“Not bad at all,” she said, unable to hide her excitement. “I have to admit, I did think you were fucking with me when you couldn’t get the back off.”
“Just nervous,” Elain mumbled, embarrassed, “I’m more of a grower, not a…”
“Cold blooded killer? Give it time. The American Imperium makes killers of us all. Now, let's find you a real job.”
Elain followed after Vassa, feeling as though she’d just been seen, and found worthy. It was a good feeling. Elain exhaled, trying to ignore the guilt and shame eating at her. She’d killed people in a fight that technically wasn’t hers.
She shook out her tingling hands. It was her fight.
This was her home, and Elain wanted everything to work more than anything. She was grinning as they slipped back beneath the earth, strangely delighted by the violence. Was this how her sisters felt? It must be.
Lucien, of course, seemed to already know. He met them in a narrow hall, his auburn hair pulled into a messy knot at the nape of his neck. Vassa just slapped him on his muscled shoulder before running her hands over her curls, scratching at her scalp. Lucien watched for a moment before turning the full weight of his gaze back to Elain.
She wished he wouldn’t look at her like that—what did he see? Elain wasn’t certain she wanted to know.
“How was it?” he asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Elain looked down at her feet.
“Fine,” she replied, adrenaline still making her heart race. Later, she knew, she’d wonder if anyone got hurt—if she’d killed anyone. She liked to believe that a leaf, or a strong breeze…or maybe an animal, even, had triggered the explosion.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out one of the small ipads she still couldn’t quite figure out. Where were all the buttons, for one? Still, Elain took it, fingertips brushing his knuckles by accident. Lucien didn’t react to the touch, though he did step closer to peer down at the screen. She knew he’d read it, otherwise she wouldn’t be seeing it.
Nesta Archeron is dead.
We are on our own.
Stay where you are—I’ll find you.
Nesta Archeron is dead. Elain scoffed, forgetting where she was. “Nesta can’t die, and I am not alone,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone.
Lucien, to his credit, didn’t ask what she meant. He merely nodded, the intensity of his gaze falling on her again. “No, you are not alone,” he agreed, “though I had hoped…”
She didn’t dare look away, though she wanted to. Elain was certain he could see through skin and bone straight into her soul. “You hoped?” she pressed.
He didn’t bother looking sheepish. “That you might be able to aid us.”
Oh.
Elain felt her heart sink. “Nesta is my sister…and I know she’s not dead,” Elain told him fiercely, wishing her presence was enough. “She’ll help.”
His expression didn’t change. “And you?”
Elain opened her mouth to argue before snapping it shut. She had helped, hadn’t she? Elain hadn’t needed to go to the tank with Vassa…and she supposed that it was fairly low stakes, all things considered.
“I am helping,” she said, hating how small her voice sounded.
Lucien cocked his head to the side. “You understand plants and their…biology, I guess?”
She nodded, unsure where he was going with this.
“What do you know about poison?”
Oh.
“It was a hobby of mine at university,” she admitted.
If that alarmed him, he said nothing. Lucien merely exhaled with relief. “Perfect. Come with me.”
—
Arina only had a few moments before Eris came looking—and likely only a few after that.
For all she knew, he’d known the second she’d slipped out of his home and he had some kind of secret police after her. She tried not to think about that, if only because the thought was enough to make her cry.
It had been days locked in that horrible house. How did Eris stand having cameras everywhere? Arina was used to them on the station, but not in private quarters—Eris had a camera pointing directly at his couch, his kitchen, and every bedroom door. She wasn’t convinced he didn’t have one pointing directly at the shower, too, the sick fuck.
She’d turned the shower on full blast, locked the door, and then shimmied her way out of a window. That had been the most terrifying part given he lived in a highrise and in order to get out, she’d had to fall about three stories onto someone’s balcony and then break into their home to get to the elevator.
Her hands shook the whole way out of the building. No one paid her any mind or offered a second look, which was a relief. Still, Arina was all too aware of the cameras that covered every square inch of the world she now lived in. All she knew for certain was she needed to get off the planet before Eris locked her up and threw away the key.
Part of her wanted to leave Elain behind.
Arina couldn’t.
There were cameras on the station she’d lived on—and more surveillance in the galaxy than she’d ever thought about. They had tech straight out of a nightmare. Arina couldn’t count how many times she’d walked through a scanner that could have identified her from a single strand of hair, let alone her full body. Where did they store it and what did they do with it was a constant question among the galactic races that belonged to the alliance of planets.
Arina tried not to look at any of them, hoping she blended into the thick throngs well enough. She kept her head down, eyes focused on her feet and tried to remember the map she’d memorized. The city layout was confounding, layers built upon layers, forcing you to descend into the bowels. A network of stairs, alleys, and cut-throughs made everything more confusing—none of it had been marked on the map, which and when she tried to dodge another camera pointed directly at her, Arina found herself in a massive bazaar she was almost certain was illegal.
They were selling books, for one. It was tempting to pick one up and run her fingers along the spine. She hadn’t seen a book made of paper, ink, and glue that wasn’t carefully preserved in layers of cryoplastic. These were clearly mass produced somewhere, and cheaply sold for a few…dollars? Arina didn’t understand the currency and had no idea how much one dollar was worth in comparison to galactic currency. What did they even base it on? How did they decide its value?
There was tech, too, advertised as jailbroken, which Arina took to mean it no longer carried the surveillance software of the state. That was something she would have liked to have had, though Arina had no money. It hadn’t occurred to her how dangerous it was—people walked around the galaxy with nothing to their name except the clothes on their back. Bartering was still the primary way people exchanged goods and services, and often Arina could trade knowledge for something—she often knew what was going on in the central hub, for example, which the outer planets rarely did. Giving a pirate or a mercenary some information about shipping lanes, policy decisions, or even a conglomerate suddenly doing business somewhere they never had before was worth a lot to the right buyer.
What would happen if she walked up to one of the bustling stalls and offered to trade her knowledge about humanity in space for one of those bulky ipads? It was only her urgency that kept her feet moving, head down, eyes both scanning for cameras and hoping to avoid their detection.
It was here, in this tight, cramped alleywall packed with people moving shoulder to shoulder, that she saw her first signs of resistance. There were cameras—or, there had been once. Now they hung limp and lifeless from the beams and poles they’d once been secured to. Some were covered entirely by a flag with red and white stripes—the flag of what had been The United States of America.
There was a new flag, now. Arina saw it everywhere. It bore the spirit of the old with the same red and white stripes, but now the blue square held a circle of stars bordering a very large, ornate cross. It was sinister and threatening, and it flew everywhere. Arina assumed it was both warning and reminder to the people of who they lived under and what might happen should they ever step out of line.
And here, in this little pocket of humanity, lay the undeniable proof of resistance. A rebuke of the current regime in favor of a past that wasn’t forgotten. Arina was fascinated, desperate to talk to the people around her. Who had hung it? What did it mean to them? She knew of American history in the vaguest of terms, though her family had not come from the United States like so many others had. Her family had been Middle Eastern, a place also lost to tyranny.
She wondered why.
But she didn’t stop moving, either. Arina managed to course correct, the path spitting her back out onto cracking blacktop that clearly hadn’t been fixed in years. Who cared about the people on foot, she supposed, though it did make each step a little treacherous. She managed to get where she needed to be, though—a small electronics store that threw its tech away in the dumpster behind the shop.
She’d heard Eris talk about it with disdain. He wanted it shut down, though whatever ordinance governed the business was in his way. While he’d paced around his study complaining and lamenting how and who he might apply pressure to in order to get his way, Arina had narrowed it down enough that she could finally slip out.
Could finally get out a message.
Of course, that required her to climb into the garbage receptacle. No matter where in the galaxy she went, trash smelled like trash. Her boots splashed into fetid water as she swatted away at the flies. Among the waste and rotting food were bags upon bags of pristine, unsold tech. Arina recognized none of it, but shoved a small one into her pocket before pulling out a larger one.
She was hardly a savant, but she’d been more than proficient at university—she’d nearly specialized in tech given how much digital media existed that had never been preserved.
But she’d never been able to resist the call of paper and ink, and so she’d never gone all the way. It was enough to figure out the basics, powering on the machine while also clambering out of the dumpster. She crouched, hidden behind the metal box, as she her fingers began flying across the screen.
It was a nightmare to navigate. Every time she opened a new application, fifteen advertisements popped up, forcing her to close them. Sometimes they wouldn’t until she’d watched a few seconds of a clip or spun a wheel offering her a discount on some cheaply made product. How did the people living here stand it? Arina was close to tearing out her hair before she found what she was looking for.
Or rather, who.
The man from the forest who looked so much like Eris, the relation was undeniable. He had Elain, and Arina needed to get Elain a message. She couldn’t wholly trust that Lucien would send it, or even that he wasn’t another arm of the long stretch of the state. All she knew was Eris wanted to know where he was, and the enemy of her enemy was…well, was still her enemy when they held her best friend captive, but she’d try and work with them.
Until she had Elain.
And then Arina was going to start shooting.
While she tried to find Lucien, Arina did something far simpler—she connected to the last number she had memorized out in galactic space. Emergency services, which had never arrived in time to save a crashing ship and were regarded more as an investigation agency, answered her call immediately.
“I need Nesta Archeron,” Arina said after giving them her rank and identification code. “I need to speak with her now. I’ve crashlanded on a hostile planet—”
“Nesta Archeron is dead,” the woman on the other end intoned, obviously bored. “Send your coordinates for extraction.”
Dead? Well, that was a problem. Arina provided her coordinates, well aware there would be no extraction.
There was, instead, a lengthy pause. “There will be no extraction.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Arina snapped, speaking over the recited code that gave emergency services permission to abandon her. “And fuck you.”
She hadn’t expected much, but when she got back to space, Arina vowed she was going to spend all her time dismantling emergency services until nothing was left. Instead, she attempted to fire off a quick message to Lucien, praying he at least would give it to her:
Nesta Archeron is dead.
We are on our own.
Stay where you are—I’ll find you
Just as she was about to hit send, fingers curled around her upper arm, dragging her to her feet. It was Eris Vanserra. Arina reached out to hit him, but he jammed one of those heavy, metal guns directly into her face. She froze.
“It’s like you want me to kill you,” he panted, a lock of ginger hair flopping against his sweaty forehead. He looked wild and angry, like he might genuinely hurt her.
“We both know you’re going to eventually,” she snapped back, heart thundering in her chest. She didn’t want to die, and certainly not like this. Arina didn’t believe he’d even bother burying her. More likely, he’d leave her in a heap right beside a trashcan for someone else to deal with.
The thought made tears prick at her eyes. She had no one in the galaxy except Elain. Her mother was dead, her father gone somewhere doing who knew what. She hadn’t heard from him in so long, Arina assumed he was dead, too.
No siblings, no lovers, and few friends. Colleagues who had likely been killed in the explosion weren’t looking for her. No, Elain was all she had, and she didn’t want to die here, alone and abandoned and utterly forgotten.
She swallowed, holding Eris’s stare.
Still gripping her arm, he jerked her forward. The ipad tumbled from her fingers, hitting the ground with a crunching noise. Was their tech truly so fragile it was still made of glass? They seemed to be technologically advanced at first glance, but Arina was beginning to suspect it was a veneer for the rotting underbelly beneath. They were centuries behind even those most basic tech on the most backwater worlds.
He dragged her back through the crowded maze of sidewalks, weaving between people without glancing back at her. Arina did her best not to trip into foot-sized potholes and twist her ankle. There was no escaping the bruising grip he had on her, no ignoring the gun he still held on his other hand, pointer finger extended to quickly snap against the trigger.
Had her message gone through in time? Would Lucien show it to Elain? And how would Arina make good on her promise to find Elain if she couldn’t escape the all-seeing gaze of Eris Vanserra? Arina wanted to cry, not out of hopelessness, but out of anger and frustration. This was a nightmare.
They were nearly back to the front of his building when every billboard in the vicinity went a blinding white. Eris froze, as did every other person on the streets. Vehicles began to slow before coming to a total stop. What was going on?
A moment later, a scene popped up around them. The billboards, once innocuous advertisements, were now screens livestreaming….something. There was a pristine, white building in the background, old and ancient and yet somehow strangely modern, too. The harder she looked at it, the more she found it disjointed. It was as if it had been built, torn down, and half-rebuilt to reflect a more modern age. Certainly the platform built atop otherwise pristine, green lawn proved that more had been added at some point.
An older man in a crisp suit walked out, dark eyes focused on the cameras in front of him. It was as if he was looking at her. Arina didn’t like that. He said nothing to the cameras, but merely stood at the center of the screen for a long moment until a flag with the same stars and cross fluttered behind him. It was bad special effects that almost made her laugh.
She might have if she hadn’t seen the line of gunmen, each wearing crisp white and gold uniforms, marched onto screen. Behind them, two people with white hoods over their heads were shoved forward, hands bound behind their back.
Arina tried to turn away, but Eris held her, jerking her forward. “You must watch,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“I’d rather die than participate in this spectacle,” she responded, tone lethal.
He looked down at her, eyes unforgiving. “You will die if you don’t.”
Arina blinked away tears, her stomach churning with bile. She couldn’t watch more people die—she’d seen so many on the station. Her hands weren’t clean, either. She’d killed a Teryx while making her own escape, and the only thing getting her through was the distraction of the new world.
Somewhere deep in her bones, she ached at the loss.
The hoods were ripped from the faces of two people far younger than Arina was at twenty eight. They looked like children. Their names and date of birth were read out loud before their long list of charges, revealing the girl to be seventeen and the boy beside her nineteen. Babies, their lives ended by the brutality of the state.
Every charge related to treason against the state—made up crimes meant to scare people. The boy hung his head, dark curls swaying gently in a breeze but the girl stood in place, chin tilted upward. Her dark, moon round eyes stared directly into the camera daring Arina to look away.
There was no remorse, and though her eyes were wet with fear, her expression otherwise didn’t betray her. Nia, her name had been Nia. Arina repeated it in her mind, thinking of the Lovu race of people who believed no one truly died so long as even one person remembered their name. Arina vowed not to forget this girl who dared to do something, even when she must have known death was a likely possibility.
There was no moment for last words. Guns were raised once the charges were finished, the silence ringing in Arina’s ears. Someone had to stop it, surely. A rescue was coming, she believed, right up until orders were given.
The girl opened her mouth to scream not in fear, but words of hope. Words that clearly meant something to the people watching if the way their postures shifted when the words tumbled loudly from her lips.
“Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? FORBID IT! I know now what course others may take, but as for ME: Give me LIBERTY or GIVE ME DEATH!” she screamed, the words the loudest thing Arina had ever heard. They lodged their way into her chest even as gunfire ricocheted, silencing Nia and the boy beside her. Their bodies fell in a heap, Nia’s words forever silenced. The words were old- they stood for something, or had at least once, though Arina didn't know the historical context. But even beside her, Eris had jolted with awareness, as though he too felt the undeniable pull toward freedom.
And yet, Arina was certain they’d had an effect.
Before that moment, all she cared about was escape. Earth wasn’t her problem, these weren’t her people, it wasn’t her home. Let them destroy each other if they wanted. But Nia’s courage reminded her of Elain, of Nesta and Gwyn flying into the yawning mouth of danger to rescue one person even if it meant they lost everything. Arina had never had that kind of conviction in her life.
The screens returned to advertisements for shows to watch, products to buy, and politicans to support. People began walking again as if nothing happened and traffic began to flow through the air lanes once more. Arina was shaking, though, which made it easy for Eris to get her back into the building.
Some of it was fear, but with each step, it was solidifying into anger. Into rage. They had lied to everyone, and for what? To keep a docile population? To what end, Arina couldn’t begin to fathom and right then, she decided she didn’t care.
If Nesta Archeron wasn’t alive to aid the resistance, then Arina would do it herself. She was hardly the skilled pilot Nesta was, but she was capable enough. Certainly capable of rounding up hundreds of human soldiers, mercenaries, and pirates that might like to return to a home that had once abandoned them.
Hardly the heroes of the galaxy, but in moments of desperation, Arina had to believe anything was better than nothing. Was it humanity's fault that humans turned to crime because there was little for them in the galaxy? Nesta was making inroads and doing a lot of the work and she was, potentially, dead.
Arina didn’t care about the optics and the politics, besides. She cared about blowing up that ugly white house and showing Nia that her words mattered to someone. All Arina needed a ship that she could get out of the atmosphere faster than she could be stopped.
How hard could that be?
Eris released her when they were safely back inside, tossing his gun to the side table. Rookie mistake. Arina snatched it, returning the favor by pressing the tip against his cheek. She’d been right about the weight—the weapon was unbearably heavy. How heavy had the guns been that had executed those children? How did the soldiers sleep with the echo of it weighing against the delicate skin of their palms?
Arina didn’t want to kill Eris—but she knew, right then, that she would if it came down to it. She could mourn him the rest of her life, but he was done telling her what she could do and where she could go.
His eyes glittered with malice. “You wouldn’t—”
Her finger slid to the trigger. “Bet your life on it,” she replied, cutting him off. For a moment neither of them moved, his back facing the dark interior of his home, hers ghosting against the door and freedom just beyond.
“Whats your grand plan? Kill me and—”
“Kill you?” she interrupted again, catching the way his expression shifted. She couldn’t read it, though she swore there was something gleaming in those angry amber eyes of his. Something a little interested in where she was going with this threat.
“You’ll have to kill me,” he warned, his tone low. “I’ll chase you across the galaxy.”
Perfect.
“You can fly?” she asked. Eris’s brows knitted together. “How good are you?”
He didn’t hesitate. “The best.”
She doubted that, not when Nesta Archeron was alive. Until Arina saw a funeral, she didn’t believe Nesta was gone—Nesta oozed immortality. Arina was trying to embody a little of that right then given how imposing Eris Vanserra was.
She could leave him in galactic space, she realized. She could ditch him on some backwater planet that had one space port thousands of miles away and no reliable way to reach it unless you had extreme know-how and grit.
Eris, with his clean nails and crisp uniform didn’t look like he knew what the word grit meant. She was doing this planet a favor, she decided, and she wouldn’t be the one who had to kill him. He’d kill himself through his own ineptitude.
That was his problem, though, even if he didn’t know it. Arina only smiled.
I wanted to thank everyone who took the time to interact with my posts this past week and celebrate Elucien with us in whatever form they could.
Thesleepyfox encompassed everything I am hoping for in an Elucien book: a reformed rake trope bordering on historical romance with fantastical elements.
I can’t wait to see what creativity sparks in us next year!
🗞️ Scandal, Scandal! Read all about it... @elucienweekofficial
@kt-reads-things @lulufoxlainfawn and I have it on good authority that there was a scandalous kiss reported at the Day Court's end of summer ball last night! You can support the artwork here!
Elain Archeron and Lucien Vanserra caused quite a stir when the latter pulled the former in for a kiss during the opening dance of the evening. High Lady Feyre Archeron was pleasantly surprised by the development, while High Lord Rhysand looked on in amusement.
Two limping courtiers from the Autumn Court, who asked to remain anonymous, "had never seen such a thing in the ballroom! The nerve of young couples these days!"
According to an eyewitness, Nesta Archeron did not take well to the Autumn Court representatives gawking at her sister and left them with a few smashed toes for their troubles (allegedly).
Multiple sources confirm that the two kissing faeries quickly absconded from the dance floor together and were not seen for the remainder of the evening...
Many thanks to @lampofblob on Instagram for taking our idea and completely blowing our minds! The background characters were such a treat, and we cannot thank you enough for the love and care you put into this commission &7 it was a pleasure working with you!
Characters belong to @sarahjmaas
Art by @lampofblob
Commissioned by myself, @kt-reads-things @lulufoxlainfawn
✨please do not alter, edit, use in Al filters, or use for anti content ✨
The Stars Reminisce @starsreminisce - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
