Ribbons of Flame - Chapter 6
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A/N: I just want to give a HUGE thank you for those of who that have been waiting patiently for chapter 6. I originally wasn’t writing because of NaNoWriMo in November and wanting to dedicate all my time to my novel. Then December hit and since I didn’t read much at all in November and had done so much writing I didn’t feel like writing much, Plus as I mentioned a few days ago I had some pretty bad writers block. I still have some, but I managed to push through and get this chapter written. It’s probably not the best, but I hope you guys enjoy anyway.
If you have any feedback suggestions, or comments please don’t be afraid to leave me any kind of message or comment because I ADORE hearing from you all.
Trigger Warning: Minor mention of rape.
Words: 3374
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Lucien felt numb as he watched his sister who now rested on the bed in front of him. Elain stood quietly behind him, a hand resting on his shoulder. They had safely made it back to the House of Wind, giving the signal to the others that they were away and safe. Concern rippled through the other’s features when they returned to the sight of Eleanor, passed out in Lucien’s arms with her blood-soaked dress. Every protective instinct had kicked in since the first sighting of the young fae, and they did not cease. He refused to leave the healer alone to her work, desperate to know the state of his sister.
Azriel now sat in the room as well, twisting his fingers together. The others came in and out to check on them. Lucien continued to stare at Eleanor’s bandaged back as the healer had finally finished and left the room hours ago. All Lucien could see was every area of ruined flesh, her too thin frame, her sunken eyes. That was only the outside damage, he didn’t want to think of the emotional scars and trauma she surely had.
“Lucien, she’s going to be okay. She’s here, with us and we’ll do everything in our power to make sure she heals.” Elain’s gentle voice reached his ears as he felt her move to sit in his lap. She placed a hand on his cheek to bring his focus back. Lucien took in a deep breath, and nodded. He knew that she was here and safe, yet guilt still coursed through him. Eleanor should have been here sooner, he should have known about her. His head fell softly in the crook of her smooth neck, and he took another shuttering breath in. He so desperately wanted to cry, but he refused to do anything of the sort in front of the others. He could let everything out later, with Elain. He grew calmer as her fingers began running through his long hair. He immediately lifted his head at the sound of ruffling sheets, and a soft whimper. When they stood those whimpers turned into louder screams.
“I’ll get the healer and tell her she’s awake,” Elain quickly mumbled as she moved to the doors. Azriel shook his head before speaking.
“You stay here, I’ll go get the healer. I don’t think she’ll find comfort in my presence.” He winnowed out of the extra bedroom they were in, leaving Lucien to rush towards his sister. He was immediately stopped by Elain’s hand and he understood the look that crossed her face. He could tell every muscle in the female before them was tightened, her eyes widened in fear, lines of silver brimming her eyes. He took a step back, realization washing over him. She was scared. So obviously scared of them.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she whimpered out, clutching the silk sheet tighter to her bare skin. A feeling of distress flooded his senses at the fact she assumed any of them would cause her intentional pain. He understood why though. He was sure that’s all she had ever known. She glanced down at herself again, her hands beginning to tremble.
“D-did anyone?” Her hands clutched the cloth tighter not able to form the full question. He cringed, realizing what she was asking and the confusion she must feel over her unclothed frame.
“Oh, Gods no!” Elain shook her head violently, horror lighting her eyes at her suggestion. Eleanor relaxed ever so slightly, but was clearly still fear stricken.
The door opened, the healer and Azriel rushing in. Eleanor jumped back, her eyes rushing back and forth between all of the fae now in the room. The healer approached Eleanor’s bedside, beginning to ask questions on how she was feeling. Her lips parted as if she would answer the questions, but her voice did not sound.
“Lucien, Az, let’s give her some space,” Elain spoke, acknowledging each male. Lucien wanted to protest. How could he leave his sister in the state she was in? His mouth opened, but as his eyes fell upon her again he knew she wanted them all gone. He swallowed the lump in his throat and walked out with the others, leaving Eleanor alone with the healer.
Eleanor’s heart refused to slow down the moment she awoke wrapped in the silk sheets and cloud like bed. The Hewn City did not have beds that comfortable, and she knew she was not where she belonged. When she realized the golden jeweled dress gone, more panic filled her at the thought of what they could have done to her in the unconscious state she was in. As she shot up, the soft sheets tightly gripped against her chest, she recognized the two males that had been in the room with Kedron. The one she now knew as her brother and the winged male who had held the knife against Kedron’s throat. She did not know the fae female who spoke in the calming tone, claiming she would go get the healer until the dark-haired male had disappeared instead.
Fear overwhelmed all her senses as the supposed healer stood in front of her now. She could see her lips move in speech, but her voice did not register in Ella’s ear. The female fae bent down at the bedside and gently reached out a hand towards the bandages wrapped around her entire torso.
“In the chaos your whipping wounds were ripped open, causing you to bleed. I cleaned and wrapped the damage as best I could when you first arrived.” The healer spoke in a quiet confidence that ever so slightly released the tension in her body. “I need to change the bandages and see how they’re doing, is that okay?” Ella softly nodded her head, unclenching her fingers one by one from the cloth and turning back onto her stomach once again. She didn’t know where she was or what purpose she served to these fae. But the healer was trying to help her, and she didn’t know what else she could do in this moment. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine every scenario and none of them were pleasant to think about. When the healer had finally finished her work she stood up, letting Ella know she could turn around again.
“I was told to give you these to change into. The loose fabric will be gentle on your back.” She was handed two pieces of clothing, a pair of long flowing paints and a top that looked like it would be much too small for her. Her eyes shone with questions and discomfort distorted her features at the thought of wearing so little in front of others.
“If a dress would make you more comfortable surely they can-“
“No, it’s fine,” she whispered. If this was the clothing she was given she knew it would be best to follow along and not complain. Refusing and questions only made things harder on her end. She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and stood straight with no amount of ease. She felt stiff and pain shot through every area of her body. She worked quickly to put the fabric on. She fought every instinct to wrap her arms around herself. Ella tugged anxiously at the top, willing it to lengthen and cover her stomach. She took a deep breath and placed herself back down on the bed. The healer nodded, as she gathered her supplies and made her way towards the door.
“You need your rest. Someone will be in to check on you in a little bit.” Ella nodded in understanding and let her head fall onto the plush pillows. She was much more tired than she realized as her eyes blinked in and out of focus. She was told to rest, so she would.
Lucien’s fingers were intertwined tightly with Elain’s. A squeeze of her hand, to reassure him, was felt and he returned the gesture as they walked out of the room with Azriel. Eleanor was going to be okay, she was in safe hands and no one could hurt her anymore. He kept repeating it, over and over, to try and calm himself down.
“How is she doing?” Lucien looked up, stepping back in a small amount of shock as Feyre and Rhys approached them, Cassian and Amren moving behind them. Nesta was soon at Cassian’s side. Feyre’s question finally clicked and he tried to get his brain to work a response.
“She’s awake and the healer is with her now, checking on her. She’s obviously shaken up, and doesn’t seem to trust any of us, with good reason.” He spoke in a small and defeated tone, squeezing Elain’s hand again. Azriel stepped up beside him and nodded.
“What happened in that room with Kedron wasn’t exactly pretty and she saw what you were capable of with Eris yesterday. I’m sure all she can see in us right now are anger and violence. If what I know of The Court of Nightmares and what you’ve told me of life in the Autumn Court, violence from men is probably all she’s ever known.” Az spoke calmly, hands crossed over his worn Illyrian leathers that he hadn’t changed out of.
“Not to add all the myths she was surely taught about the Night Court. She doesn’t understand our intentions at all, and doesn’t know we want to help her,” Elain said certainly. The High Lord and Lady, along with the others, nodded in understanding. Eleanor was hurt, scared and broken and they knew better than anyone that healing was a long and ongoing process. This wasn’t going to be an easy road, and they understood trust could not and would not be built easily.
“We’ll support her in any way she needs us to and we’ll do everything in our power to let her know we’re on her side and she’s safe here,” Feyre said with the confidence of the High Lady she was. Their attention turned to the healer that stepped out of the room.
“I cleaned and rebandaged the wounds. They look like they’ll heal fine, with the expected scarring. She’s in a state of shock and distress, and she needs to rest,” she spoke, looking at each member in the hallway, “She’ll be fine for now. You know where to find me if I’m needed.” They each nodded in understanding and looked on as she walked down the hall.
“I think we all have responsibilities to attend to. We’ll let her rest and one of us can check on her in a few hours.” They once again nodded at Rhysand’s words, one by one trickling out of the sprawling hall.
Lucien looked down at his and Elain’s hands still clutching together and back up to those stunning eyes of hers. She flashed a reassuring smile and turned to urge him to their shared room. Once they had entered they both sat at the edge of their bed.
“Come on, foxboy,” she teased placing her palm softly against his cheek, “let me know what’s going on in that mind of yours.” Her thumb brushed against his skin, grazing over the scar that marred his cheek. Despite the circumstances Lucien’s lips curled into a soft smile at his mate’s gesture. The Mother only knew how much he loved Elain.
“Mostly worry, guilt, shame,” his features fell into a sorrowful look and he turned his gaze to his clutched hands. “All I can see when I close my eyes is the damage that’s been done to her and I’m just filled with guilt that I did nothing to stop it any sooner,” his fingers began toying with each other as he began processing just what was going on in his mind. “I feel shame that I’ve gone so many years without even knowing she existed.” His fingers stopped fiddling with each other as he ran his hand through his long hair and tugged in frustration. Elain was silent, but Lucien had no doubt she was listening and heard every word falling from him. Her hand still rested against his cheek and he pressed into it.
“Those are all valid feelings, Lucien but you can’t let them control you,” she simply said. Lucien took another shuttering breath and nodded.
“I know, I know,” he whispered, fluttering his eyes shut.
“Just know and understand that none of this was in your control. There was no way for you to know about her, and nothing you could have done until now to save her,” she pressed her thumb gently against his cheek, wiping more tears as they fell, “Even if you could have, what’s done is done and in the past. We can only move forward.” Lucien nodded once more, embracing the warmth of her hand against his skin.
“I love you, my dove,” he whispered, leaning in to press a tender kiss against her head.
Ella had woken up again, but she did not open her eyes quite yet. If she kept them shut, she could fall into the softness of the bed and warmth of the blankets. She could ignore everything that had happened and for a few moments live in complete bliss. Her fantasies were soon interrupted by the opening and closing of the door. She lay there, pressed on her stomach and listened to the fae that had entered. She finally opened her eyes and slowly pushed herself up. Her gaze fell to her brother, now sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. Their gaze met, and they stared in silence at one another.
“How are you?” He finally spoke. Ella nervously clutched the bed sheets closer to her body. The full impact of how little clothes she had on hit her with a male now with her. The inside of her cheek was brought between her teeth as her eyes flickered around the room, not daring to meet his gaze. She let the silence fall like a heavy blanket between them. A few long minutes passed before Lucien’s lips parted in speech once more.
“Eleanor, please talk-“ he was quickly interrupted by her own loud shouts.
“Don’t call me that!” She roared. When she was in Hewn City, every ounce of fight had left her. She was exhausted and broken. But she was in a new place now, with new people that confused her, and fear was overriding all logic. She knew what cruelty to expect when she arrived from the Autumn Court, but here, she wasn’t so sure. She didn’t know what these fae wanted or what they could do to her, but somehow that thought put just enough fight into her. She could see the confusion flickering in his eyes at her reaction.
“Is that not your name, Eleanor?” He asked. His hands clutched tightly in his lap and she could tell he was fighting every urge not to stand up and come towards her. She shook her head frantically at his reply.
“I hate it, I hate, I hate,” she muttered wildly, curling up in a tight ball against herself. The only people who used that name were the men that abused her and had mistreated her. She could only hear fragments of her father’s sickening voice, and her brother’s cruel laughter as that name left someone’s lips. She could see Keir’s hand that had struck her, and Kedron who did nothing as he stood and watched her cry out. No, she didn’t like that name at all. Lucien’s nails dug into his skin as he desperately tried to figure out a way to calm her down.
“Okay, okay, I won’t call you that. What would you like me to call you then?” He asked, standing up from his seat and pacing the bedroom floor, if only to do something with his body. She suddenly took pause, looking up at this pacing male. There was no reason for her to believe he would not be like the others. What did it matter if he used that name as well. She fell silent once again, not answering his question. She tore her gaze away from him and fiddled with the sewn hem of the sheet. It was impossible for her to stand still when she was nervous or scared, she had to play with something. He paused his movement to look at her when she did not answer.
“I have to call you something,” he mutters as he takes a step towards the bed. Everything in Ella tensed when he made towards her. He immediately noticed and froze where he was, then turned back to his original spot and began to pace again. Her muscles slowly relaxed once more as he stepped away from her. Though her muscles relaxed she sat frozen on her place in the bed, her mouth sealed shut. Her mind was buzzing in a million different directions when her eyes landed on the scar. It was a horrid scar that scrapped across at an angle from the top of his left eyebrow, through his eye and down his cheek. When she studied it further she realized that his left eye was completely missing. It had been replaced with a golden orb that seemed to move just like his other. Her heart began to hammer wildly as her head tilted to study him further. Without thinking of the words that fell from between her lips, she asked in a meek voice.
“Did they do that to you?” These fae that captured her from her other prison, had they ruined his face like that? Was he as much a prisoner as she was? She refused to think about what would happen to her if they could do that to him. He took another step back as his brows scrunched together, clearly baffled at the change of subject and her question.
“What are you-“ he paused as his fingers slowly reached up to trace that damaged flesh, almost as if he forgot that it was there. A look of recognition flickered across his features. “Oh no I-“
“Are they keeping you here against your will as well?” She asked in that same quiet tone as before. Lucien’s features grew confused at her second question. He opened his mouth, as if to speak but closed it once more. His hands finally fell away from the marred skin and studied the female across the room. A strange look crossed his face, like that of pain or sadness, maybe a mixture of both. Did the scar still hurt him after all this time?
“Oh no, no, no,” he finally sputtered out shaking his head, “No one in the Inner circle did this to me,” he ran a hand through his long hair and that look that she couldn’t quite place only grew deeper. “Nor would they ever do such a thing, to me or you,” he muttered. She sat there, confusion still brewing in her and shook her head wildly. She didn’t believe him, it was exactly something they would do.
“I don’t, I don’t understand?” She stuttered out. He took a deep breath, hand still clutched in his hair. He turned towards the door across the room.
“Rest for a little more, okay? I’ll call the healer and let the others know you’re awake,” he said softly as his long legs strode across the room. He was about to step out of the open door, when she called out to him.
“Wait.” She watched as he paused, not turning back till after a few seconds. His eyes searched her, looking at her expectantly. “Ella,” was all the she said, but he seemed to understand. She trusted him. She certainly didn’t trust him entirely, not with her life, or her secrets, or with much of anything, but enough. It was enough for him to know what she liked to be called. He repeated the name, once, twice, another time to get the feeling of the name on his tongue. He gave her quick nod, and turned back towards the door, pausing for a second more.
“I’m Lucien,” was all he said before finally slipping away.
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