As my last contribution to @elainweekofficial I wanted to show Elain happy and enjoying her day out in nature 🌳 my girl just wants to enjoy the open air and sunshine!
@lavender_hag thank you for this absolutely lovely artwork of Elain! She looks so relaxed and happy 💛
@lavender_hag you’ve been so wonderful to work with! Thank you for all your kindness during this commission 💛
“Shall I tend to my little garden forever? … You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”
— A COURT OF SILVER FLAMES
Described by the Bone Carver as the “trembling fawn” and yet, “growing claws,” by Nesta, Elain’s psyche is both multifaceted and intriguing. The world around her has dealt an unfortunate hand to our sweet Seer, but she manages time and time again to find the strength to remain soft despite these circumstances. As we have come to learn, however, her kindness should not be mistaken for weakness. For day three’s prompt, show us how you define Elain Archeron. Is it by her kind heart, her love for her family, her ability to make a home anywhere, or is it something many people tend to overlook? Show us what makes her Elain Archeron to you.
Elain's favourite thing to bake is flower focaccia. It combines her two favourite hobbies -gardening and baking- with an artistic twist. She uses the vegetables she grows herself to make elaborate flower designs.
Elain had always been gentle and sweet — and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had been always so full of light. Perhaps that was why she now kept all the curtains open. To fill the void that existed where all of that light had once been. And now nothing remained.
Elain loves to garden, so here's a moodboard of her garden at the River House! Read below the cut for an Elucien one-shot 🦔
Gardening required precision: the right soil composition, watering frequency, timing of planting, and placement. But it also required leniency, for the pollinators, animals, and weather systems that played a role were out of Elain’s control.
Which was why Elain strung up bird baths and propped up old pots for toads. She left the spiders and praying mantises alone, even though they scared her. She suppressed the urge to tidy everything into neat arrangements, knowing that a little messiness was beneficial for the ecosystem.
Gardening had its fair share of physical work, too. Elain was not a warrior like Feyre or Nesta, but she still flexed her muscles by lugging the watering can around, yanking out weeds, digging up roots, and vanquishing the pests and plant illnesses.
Gardening was the satisfaction of watching the spring buds flower, of biting into the first summer harvest. But out of everything, experiencing warm sunshine on her skin was Elain’s favorite part of gardening.
It was shaping up to be a perfect day, she thought. Already Elain had changed the bird bath, refilled the bird feeder, turned the compost pile, pruned the bushes, and inspected the budding fruit trees. She was in the middle of harvesting a bundle of herbs for dinner when she heard distressed squeaking coming from around the bend.
“Oh no!” Elain cried when she spotted the source of the squeaks. A large hawk had a small creature clasped in its talons, and was taking flight. “Stop! Stop this right now!”
The animal squirmed its way out of the hawk’s grip and fell several feet to the ground, to Elain’s horror. She rushed over immediately, finding a small hedgehog dragging its hind foot as it struggled towards a brambly hedge.
“You poor thing!” Elain exclaimed. The hedgehog curled into a ball of brown and black spikes when she approached. Elain knelt down in the grass, cooing softly. “It’s alright little one. You’re safe with me.”
The hedgehog did not seem to think so. It let out another cry of terror when Elain gingerly touched it. She winced at the spines pricking her calloused palms. A quick glance revealed the hawk waiting patiently in the tree for its afternoon snack, its beady yellow eyes glaring at Elain.
“Go away!” she shouted up at it. “Don’t you dare come any closer!” She turned her attention back to the hedgehog, who was trembling in fear thanks to her raised voice.
“I didn’t mean you, little one,” Elain whispered softly, hunching over the hedgehog. “Please don’t be afraid. I only want to help you.” Bracing herself against the temporary pain, Elain gently scooped the curled hedgehog up and placed it into her straw hat.
Gravel crunched urgently behind her.
“My lady?” The emissary of the Night Court stood just a few yards away from her, looking like he’d been running. Lucien Vanserra. Her mate.
Elain stiffened. “What are you doing here?” The words came out sharper than she’d intended, and she regretted using them as her first line of greeting.
Lucien’s flaming red hair glinted in the sun like molten ore, his russet eye studying her carefully. The scar cutting down his face only drew attention to his angular features. It had been several weeks since Elain saw him last, and every time he reappeared in her life, his handsome face seemed to grow begrudgingly more attractive. “I came to hand deliver an invitation for Queen Vassa’s coronation,” he replied. “To Feyre and Rhysand, but it seems they’re nowhere to be found.”
“They’re at the Hewn City.” Elain’s words were a frank dismissal to her ears. She winced.
Lucien’s mouth tightened. “Well, I heard you shouting at something so forgive me for making sure you were alright.”
I don’t need your protection, Elain wanted to say, but she kept her mouth shut. Her good manners always eluded her whenever she saw Lucien Vanserra.
“I’m fine. It’s just a hedgehog with an injured foot. I’ll have to send for Madja tomorrow morning.”
“Broken limbs should be set and healed as soon as possible. Waiting until morning may be too late.” Lucien frowned slightly. “I can try to help.”
“You’re not an animal healer,” she objected.
“No, but I did fix your sister’s broken nose under the mountain.” Lucien’s good eye flickered with the faint memory of the traumatic hellhole.
I don’t need your help, Elain wanted to say, but the hedgehog’s shrill vocalizations begged to differ. “Alright,” she admitted. “We can go to the greenhouse.”
The creature was shaking like a leaf when Elain set the hat down on the surface of the greenhouse work table. The surface was littered with gardening notes and bottled tonics. A cupboard, filled with seeds and dried flowers stood opposite a shelf of gardening tools. And every other available space was filled with plants.
The greenhouse was sizable, but the space felt small and hot the moment Lucien stepped over the threshold. He stood silently in the doorway, golden eye clicking and whirring at the haphazard interior.
She had gauze and healing salves…but perhaps ointments that worked on the Fae would be toxic for animals. The enchanted gloves Lucien gifted her were carefully tucked in a box. Elain had barely used them, only taking them out occasionally to admire its make. But perhaps it was time to put away that stubborn pride…Elain glanced over her shoulder furtively at her mate.
“Hello, aren’t you a cute little thing?” Lucien greeted the hedgehog as he bent down until he was eye level with the table. “My name is Lucien, Night Court’s emissary.”
He extended a tanned brown hand towards the creature. The hedgehog peeked out at the emissary, unfurling itself to sniff his fingers with its pointed nose. “That’s right, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“What do we do?” Elain approached the table anxiously.
Surprise flitted across Lucien’s face at the sight of her gloved hands. “If you could sit and hold the hedgehog so I can see the leg…”
“It’s me, Elain,” she cooed to it, extending her hand just as Lucien did. “I’m going to have to pick you up now.” The hedgehog shrank away, and Elain’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.
“You can do it,” Lucien said encouragingly. “I’m talking to the hedgehog, but I suppose it applies to you as well.”
“Why does it like you more than me?” Elain demanded indignantly.
Lucien’s grin was positively smug. “Hedgehogs were quite prevalent in the Autumn Court. They thought quite highly of me.”
Elain rolled her eyes at him. “Come on now. Up onto my hand we go. You’ve seen me around the garden, haven’t you? I’m not a stranger.” The hedgehog reluctantly limped onto her outstretched hand. “Good job, little one!”
Elain’s heart pounded anxiously as she settled on the chair, for the creature seemed so frail and small. The hedgehog scrunched up its small face, crying out as she shifted it onto its back. Elain gasped when she noticed several red lacerations on its furred underbelly. “Cauldron, it’s worse than I thought,” she fretted. “And I think it’s a female.”
“Hmmm, you’re right.” Lucien murmured as the hedgehog made more high-pitched whimpering sounds. “Shhh, it’s alright, sweetheart. Let me take a look.” Heat shimmered in the air between them as Lucien knelt in between her legs and leaned closer.
“If you want to give him a bite, you have my permission,” Elain added. As cute as it was, hedgehogs were still wild animals. And she didn’t know if they were aggressive when threatened.
“I don’t have a problem with biting.” Elain’s blood ran hot when Lucien looked up at her with a humorous glint in both eyes. She quickly looked away. How can I be thinking improper thoughts about him when this poor hedgehog is practically dying in my lap?
Golden light shimmered as the cuts on the hedgehog’s soft belly melded together and disappeared. Elain sucked a breath in, fascinated. But the happy moment was short-lived.
Lucien’s fingers gently probed the crooked foot, eliciting a plaintive screech from the hedgehog. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Regret laced in his russet eye.
Elain felt like crying herself at the hedgehog’s distress. “Oh, Lucien. Please hurry! It seems to be in so much pain!”
His face was grim. “I need to make sure it’s set in the proper position before I heal it. But it’s going to hurt her,” he explained.
Elain hoisted the hedgehog up so that it leaned against her chest, praying her heartbeat would calm it down. “He’s trying to help you,” she whispered to it. “Please hold on just a little longer. Everything will be alright.”
“It’s going to be alright, munchkin,” Lucien’s low voice soothed. He tilted his head left and right, as if assessing the proper positioning for a hedgehog foot. “You’ve been such a brave girl. Are you going to be the bravest little hedgehog in Velaris?”
Golden webbing—a spell—was woven along the hedgehog’s ankle, bracing it in the proper position. The hedgehog screeched. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Lucien murmured.
“Oh, when this is over, I’ll build you a little hedgehog house,” Elain added, trying to keep the hedgehog’s attention on her face. “I’ll make sure you have plenty of treats. We can invite some hedgehog friends over, alright? Don’t think about your foot, darling.”
A flash of light burst from Lucien’s hand and a final terrified squeak pierced the air. The hedgehog writhed in agony briefly, shivering and whimpering. “Oh gods, oh gods,” Elain gasped. “Is it alright? What happened?”
“I think so. Put it on the table and see,” Lucien said gently. The hedgehog was indeed back to normal, ambling around on all four legs and making snuffling sounds.
“It worked. It really worked!” Elain smiled broadly, her heart swelling with relief and joy. “Thank you for helping, Lucien.” Before she could stop herself, she wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug. Realizing what she’d done, Elain disentangled herself from him sheepishly.
Lucien shrugged as he stood up. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” He paused. “Did you really mean it? Everything you said to the hedgehog? About building a whole house and bringing more of its kind over?”
“Yes?” Her mate appraised her with a small smile on his lips that stripped Elain bare. Did he think she was being childish? “And what about it?” Elain demanded hotly.
“It’s refreshing.” Lucien glanced over his shoulder on the way out of the greenhouse. “The way you care for a small hedgehog, when you treated it gently…it gives me hope for this world.”
You too, Elain wanted to say. But her mate had already winnowed away without saying goodbye. Meanwhile, the hedgehog was sniffling at a gold-embossed envelope on the worktable. The invitation to Queen Vassa’s coronation had indeed been delivered.
