Song of memories: Chapter 1
Summary: The Archeron family members are high faes, parents are divorced. After a hertbroken day, Elain moved into the house of their dad, to forget Lucien, her firs love, the boy, who didn’t have parents, who went far away.
But sometimes things happen, and Elain needs to move back to Prythian, because her mother wants to find her a husband.
Azriel works in the Archeron house as a helper, his past is full with painful memories, but a little fawn helps him to open, and they need to remember the true meaning of love.
Pairs: Elain & Lucien, Elain & Azriel, Nesta & cassian, Feyre & Rhysand
Note: Sorry for my bad english --------------------------------------------
I excitedly opened the letter that my mother had sent, but the news immediately expressed my displeasure, which I voiced, because I grunted not very femininely, and my face became paler letter by letter.
Elain
Your father and I have decided that it is time for you to return home, you have already wasted too much of your dad’s time. Leave tomorrow, as sson as possible. I've had troubling news and I don't want you to stay a place, where the war will began soon.
Your mother
I sighed and sat down trying to digest what I read. It is true that the situation between the village and Prythian became more and more tense, at least it was whispered in certain circles, but not so much that a possible global catastrophe would threaten, which would spill so much innocent blood. Moreover, I trusted my father, whom I had made happy with my presence for almost seven years now, that he would speak in advance about such a far-reaching matter. I loved our village, I didn't want to be separated from it, but my mother's word is sacred, and it had been a long time since I saw my parents' house, which I didn't miss, because of the painful memories. Nesta, who visited many times, and for this very reason our dad already kept a separate room for her inside the villa, from which there was an exceptionally magnificent view of the garden and the forest, so I often sat on her balcony with a book of poems in my hand. I leaned back on the soft pink silk blanket and put the letter next to me. I tried to imagine our estate, but the memories were so worn out and seemed so fragmented that it didn't work, only the wild smell of the fresh forest and the images of the old hills, where I liked to hide and play with Lucien, the village orphan, never faded.
I sighed and looked at the clock, it was four in the afternoon. I walked over to my large trunk and opened it for Jesminda to fill it with my clothes and other belongings. I took out my lilac leather handbag, in which I packed the most important things that could be needed for such a long trip. The carriage will take me to home, the carriage had our huge golden coat of arms flashing on the side, because my mom thought everyone should have known in advance that a nobleman was coming, which sometimes I felt was a curse, because many people are not very wealthy and they hated my kind, and I admit that sometimes I didn't understand all this fuss either, because we were more like peasants, my father loved the land, so most of our income came from it, and the other part from the leased estates here, which my maternal grandfather had acquired.
Somebody knocked on my door, and after a 'come', dad and Jesminda entered with a worried look. The young girl bowed and immediately started tidying up, making sure that the fragile things, especially the perfumes, were carefully packed, and my dad and I sat down on the white couch. Now, as always, he wore black pants and a shirt, which highlighted his tall stature. His wrinkled face was still red from a fresh shave, and his short black hair showed the first gray hairs.
‘I guess you read your mom's letter’ he sighed -’that's why I'm not going to make a big deal, the trouble is big, but not as big as that woman told this’ he rolled his eyes, and I laughed.
He was able to inject some hilarity into even the most tragic situations. I think this is how he survived the divorce from his wife, which has been a heavy burden on his soul for the tenth year now. Since then, he has not remarried, because he believed that such love and such a pure-hearted woman are given only once in every man's life, so even the thought of a second reconciliation did not make him feverish. Instead, he built his relationships and got on well with all kinds of high-ranking politicians, who I think liked his directness, kindness and openness the most. .
‘I've already made arrangements for the trip. I'll follow you with the rest of your belongings, I still have a couple of small things I need to sort out.’
I could see in his eyes that he was trying to be lighthearted, but something else was undoubtedly weighing on his mind, which I wanted to ask about, but I knew it was unnecessary, because he proved to be stronger even than me in stubbornness.
"Okay, thank you," I bowed my head sadly.
‘Don't worry, you will come back here’ he stroked my back consolingly
I just nodded in response and hoped that the truth of the future was hidden in his words. Whatever anyone thought, this village was home for me, mainly because of poetry and art. Although I did not form close friendships with the upper class, the members of the staff grew to my heart, even the always grumpy old butler, Andras, who liked to sit outside smoking a pipe in the garden, and in the meantime chase away the suspicious looking figures, in such cases it is enough he had to raise his already deep, rumbling voice and swing his hooked walking stick.
Part of the day passed uneventfully. For dinner, we ate onion soup, beef bourguignon and lemon pie, washed down with grape juice. I wanted to say goodbye to the village one last time, so I asked for Jesminda, we put on our shoes and hit the warm streets before sunset, but now this momentum didn't stick with me, for the first time in a long time I was observing as an outsider, so a veil of disappointment was thrown over me, like the village would have already denied me, and I, as a stepchild, tried to stay afloat alone.
‘If your dad allows and you also agree, I would like to visit you” Jesminda blushed shyly.
‘I wouldn't be happier with anyone else ‘ I uttered the words meekly, before the other's face brightened up again.
With her, I got not only a maid, but a sister who supported me and taught me a lot. At the beginning of my stay, I wasn't really attracted by the hustle and bustle, I got used to the fact that nothing ever happened in the village, except when my mother organized balls.
The village comforted me when I shed tears because of Lucien, or when I couldn't find my place in this huge world.
‘What are you thinking?’ Jesminda asked cautiously.
It is already so well known that I have often valued silence more than chatter, especially in my garden that has become so close to my heart
‘I hope that Prythian will treat me like a stepfather, so that I can be here as soon as possible again’
‘How much easier it would be if we women didn't depend on society's expectations’ he shouted angrily
My maid and I were of the same opinion on many points, including the fact that girls should be worth something in their own right, on their own, and not just through an advantageous marriage, which, if it doesn't happen within a certain period of time, people will cast them out, because so they think that he is not even capable of becoming a wife and increasing his nation with the blessings of children. Most people my age already had at least one baby in their lap, even though our mother got pregnant with Nesta at the age of twenty-one, right after her wedding night.
‘My mother has no greater desire’ I uttered the words bitterly ‘but Lucien...’
‘I believe in the love of two of you’ she stared intently at the water. I told her everything about my childhood friend, and I think he also laid the foundation for our friendship, because I opened up to him, trust for trust's sake ‘and all I want is to be able to one day beat Lucien, because he left you’
I laughed at her words, and she just smiled, so we headed back to the mansion in a good mood. In my imagination, I said goodbye to the street people, to the old man in shabby clothes, who stood up on the bench by the bridge every morning and afternoon, regardless of the weather, and recited poems about happiness and unhappiness. He wasn't even interested in the many pairs of sullen eyes, who had already registered him as crazy. But I appreciated his art.
Andras opened the back door for us. Now he didn't seem as grumpy as usual, although he was still puffing and shooting a piercing look at the strangers.
"Everything changed," growled the deep voice, while Jesminda stood protectively in front of me.
A tall man jogged out of the dining room with long, springy movements, and he didn't even bother to greet us, taking a few huge steps he was already breathing the street air while his knee-length, long-sleeved, black coat was whipped by the wind. I couldn't see anything of his face, thanks to the poor lighting and his wide-brimmed hat, which he pulled deep on his head, but the darkness and evil swirling around him made me recoil too. Evil emanated from that someone. Relieved, my maid blew out the air trapped in her lungs, and my dad leaned against the door jamb in agony, with his head down. A few moments were enough for the anger to rekindle in me. Did this man threatened dad? Did he blackmail him? If so, he's lucky that I'm traveling to back, otherwise maybe even I step on his foot to make him limp for a few days.
‘ What did he wanted? ‘ I asked.
‘It's just politics’ he brushed it off too easily, which made me know right away that he was lying, but who am I to question my father's words?
But inside, it still hurt that he didn't trust me. I nodded, said goodbye, and walked up to my room.
It was a foolish thought to think that this time the images of my old life would let me rest, especially the most painful ones, but emotionally, I was so filled with sadness that I couldn't escape from them even with my eyelids closed.
I sat there again in the mill on the dusty, ancient stool and waited for my best friend Lucien. The summer had already gone on for a long time, so the cool walls of the trenches were comforting. I nervously stroked the skirt of my long, pale pink dress. We always came here to play and talk. We retreated from the evil outside world, for whom I was just a flower lover, inexperienced girl, and Lucien was an orphan who was so disliked by his parents that when he was just a day old he was left at the door of our house wrapped in an old rag, so he was just a stranger who didn't have with roots, and it depended only on the mercy of the priest that he accepted and raised him as his own child.
The door creaked and I jumped up excitedly. My heart was already pounding in my throat and butterflies were flying in my stomach.
I recently realized that my heart chose him as my first love, and although I saw a small chance, that he would reciprocate these feelings, I accepted that we walked a lot holding hands and lying on the grass dreaming about our future together. Sometimes I even believed that I meant more to him than a friend, but as soon as I fantasized about it, the painful web of hope continued to weave itself in me, so that I would take in every word of his with a sense of doubt.
I smiled involuntarily when he arrived, but the happiness immediately faded from my face as I found myself face to face with the boy's sad face. His hair was held together with a white string, his brown pants had mud stains, and his black shirt was torn in three places, which I intended to sew, I was good at the needlework anyway, Alis taught me all kinds of stitches. His eyes, on the other hand, reflected a pain that I had never seen before, not even when a couple of boys grabbed him for the first time and her mouth was torn open.
‘What's wrong? ‘ I asked worriedly and reached for him, but he dodged my touch, causing the butterflies in my stomach to be replaced by a lump in my throat.
‘I'm leaving today’ he sighed and stared into the distance through the broken window.
‘What? But why?’
I barely got up, he broke my heart. I did not understand anything. I hoped it was just a bad joke, although he never supported such jokes, but I realized he was serious. My legs were shaking and threatening to collapse into the dust, so I grabbed onto the window frame and held on as if my life depended on it.
‘My place is not here’ he shook his head ‘The others hate me, and I don't want to be a noose around the priest's neck.’
‘But I love you’ I looked at him pleadingly and tears were already glistening in my eyes ‘Take me with you’
I wanted to grab the sleeve of his shirt, squeeze him until we were out of Prythian, but I had never felt him this far before.
‘You know I can't, my little Elain’
He weakened for a few moments and hugged me tightly. The smell of sweat and pine mingled on his warm, tanned skin, and I inhaled it for the last time. I never wanted to forget. I tried to sketch every detail of him in my memory, his strong, wiry arms, his face.
‘Will you come back?’ my voice was full of hope.
‘Yes, yes to you, I promise’ he pressed a soft kiss on my forehead ‘The tenderness and love you gave me will always be with me’ he smiled ‘This is yours.’
He slipped a silver necklace into my hand, the pendant of which held two true pearls, which he probably found in the shells he fished in the stream, one white and one pink. Me and Lucien. I took it until now. My tears flowed like wild rivers after rain, I sobbed loudly and grabbed his clothes. No, it can't end like this. What about our dreams? With the fact that we will live happily in a small house by the forest and keep chickens, ducks and all kinds of animals and a big garden full with plants and flowers? He hugged me again and caressed my back until I calmed down a bit, but inside I vowed to wait for him and not become anyone else's wife, even if the desire consumes me for decades.
I woke up gasping and immediately stroked the chain, which has been hanging around my neck ever since. I wanted to cry because even after all these years, I missed him terribly. He saw who I was and didn't judge me for it. I stayed true to my promise, even though sometimes it only lived in my head as a childish, silly thing, but then Lucien's blurred face always appeared in front of me, and the desperate, sadness that always surrounded him, especially when we first met by the river. Nesta told me many times that I was too good-hearted and that this would cause my downfall, but I didn't care. If we are good-natured and kind, then what is the point of turning to others with indifference? And the boy needed warmth.
I squeezed my eyes shut and dug deep into my memories, but I could barely recall his voice, and it filled me with despair. His existence began to fade, what if I woke up with no memory of anything? I buried myself under the tears again, and I repeated his name. No no and no. He promised to come back, I promised to wait, and my stubbornness knew no bounds, especially when it came to my Lucien
