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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 Day 5: Sunshine
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-
4 years earlier
Elain fell into a comfortable routine at the Forest House.
Each morning she woke in the arms of her husband. They ate together, bathed together, occupied themselves by the glowing hearth while they read or talked and absently stroked each other. They made love in the fading golden light of each day's end, then went to sleep to do it all again.
It was a baffling, unexpected bliss. And it terrified Elain, because she knew it couldn't last.
Beron Vanserra's army retreated from the temple weeks ago. Lucien's six brothers had each returned, alongside their father, and yet Elain and Lucien remained undisturbed. They also never left their suite. Breakfasts, lunches, and dinners were brought to them on a routine schedule, and anything else was fetched at the mere pull of a golden rope.
It should have felt like a blessing, but with each passing day, the roots of her budding dread sunk deeper and deeper into her stomach. When she looked around, she saw a cage fashioned of pretty baroque walls, silk-draped canopies, and gilded leaves.
"Why hasn't he called upon us?"
She was perched on a divan, her neck craned towards the adjacent window as she ran a brush through her hair.
"Hmm?" Lucien absently turned the page in his book. He was sitting on the floor with his head resting against her thigh. A warm, comforting weight.
This had become another part of their routine. Through the arched glass, Elain could mostly see her own reflection staring back. Lucien once asked why she didn't use a mirror, and she admitted she liked to look at the stars. He didn't comment, but he'd worn a pensive expression when his eyes flicked to the vague outlines of a hillside in the distance.
He had to know which direction she was staring. Perhaps there was a time when he'd sat at this same perch and stared towards the same hill, thinking about Elain on the other side instead of her sisters.
She let him believe it was homesickness. That her eyes were scraping the horizon for any trace of the home she'd left behind. Though she did believe that Lucien would help her if it came to it, she didn't think it was necessary to tell him she was searching for a signal. Better not test his loyalties unless there was no other choice.
"Your father," Elain clarified. His body went stiff against her thigh. "Why hasn't he called upon us since returning?"
"It's our honeymoon. Married couples are to be left alone for thirty days. I think the point is to encourage heirs."
Heirs. Now it was Elain's turn to go stiff. Her hand drifted to her stomach, mentally recounting the days since her last bleed. She'd been in the Forest House for well past a fortnite, by now. In all her plans of escape, she hadn't considered what she would do if she was… well, if she wasn't escaping alone.
Lips brushed against her knee. "Does that worry you? Having children?"
"It's expected. Isn't it?"
Lucien laid another kiss higher up her thigh.
"It doesn't have to be. We could say the failing is mine, that there was some accident in battle that left me bereft. There's no reason for you to become a mother if you're not ready to be."
Setting down the brush, Elain turned away from the window to face her husband fully. He was crouched between her thighs, his book long forgotten, and staring at her with such tenderness and understanding she wondered if it was truly her wish to escape. He was everything she'd ever hoped for in a husband.
"You would do that for me?"
"Of course I would." Lucien's eyes fluttered shut as her fingers slid into his hair. His next kiss was on the widest part of her thigh, edging toward less innocent territory. "Anything you ask, Elain, and I'll try to see it done."
"Truly?"
"Truly."
Her cheeks grew flamed. "Well, I wouldn't mind if you…" She tugged her fingers, rather than speak.
"If I what?" He prompted, the corner of his lips tilting. "I'll see it done, but only if you ask."
What a wicked male. He was always trying to get her to use the same filthy words that he whispered in her ears.
"I-if you licked me."
"Where?" He retreated from where she actually wanted him to snake his tongue across her knee. "There?"
Elain huffed. "You know that's not what I meant."
"Where do you want me to lick you, then?"
"M-my…"
His eyes were so dark. Twin flames of russet threatening to burn her alive from the heat they contained.
"Say it."
"My cunt," she squeaked.
"Good girl."
Then her husband dived between her thighs, temporarily dispelling all her worries with the stroke of his tongue.
-
Two more weeks passed before a servant told Elain she was being summoned to the dining hall.
Lucien tried to go with her, but the guards on either side of the double doors wouldn't let him through.
"I'll be right here," he said, eyes tight around the corners. "If you need me, just…"
He trailed off, leaving her to fill in the rest. Shout? Scream? Ask him to try fighting off the guards, and hurt himself in the process?
This was always coming. They'd been allowed a month of bliss, as unfathomable as it had been. She hadn't considered Beron Vanserra to be a very patient man, but perhaps that was a disservice, given the patience required to lay siege to a temple. Perhaps it had been strategic in ways she hadn't yet grasped.
With a stiff spine and her husband's rueful gaze trailing at her back, Elain pushed the doors open. The first thing her eyes landed on was the large table in the center of the room. An ornate runner lay across it, its golden tassel dangling at the edge of the table. If Feyre were present, she would have admired the artistry in the woven design, which among the leaf pattern sported rabbits and birds, all of which looked to be in a state of fleeing.
She counted as many as sixteen chairs at the table, though only two places were set. One was already occupied at the head, where a tall, slender-faced man sat back in his chair. He regarded her with a smile across his lips, though not one that set her nerves at ease.
"Elain. Please, sit."
Trying to recall every lesson in etiquette she'd ever been taught, Elain managed not to glance mournfully at the other seats as she took the empty space to his right.
She bowed her head respectfully. "It's a pleasure to meet you, High Lord."
"I'm sure." His voice was dry. "Let's not waste our time on pretense. I've allowed you a month to become acclimated. Now, I'd like to discuss how you can repay my kindness."
A kindness that must be repaid was no kindness at all. It was a debt, and not one she had been in a position to request or deny. Had he done her a kindness in laying siege to her home and razing the temple's farmland? Commanding his armies to slaughter the soldiers who chose to defend the Mother's priestesses?
Elain bit her tongue, deciding it would be best to allow him to continue speaking. With the rage blistering inside her, she was liable to say something regretful. And Beron Vanserra was not a male whose ire should be courted lightly.
"Are you aware of the ancient forest that borders your temple?"
He paused, indicated he expected a response. Not trusting her voice, Elain nodded.
"I had no doubt you would be. As the legends tell it, the forest is in perpetual motion. The trees rearrange themselves as you walk, and midst shrouds your path on a whim. Every person I've ever sent through it has not returned—with the exception of my youngest son. Do you know why that is, Elain?"
"Because Lucien's clever?"
Beron's hand slammed down on the table, causing every untouched plate of food to jump alongside Elain. Porcelain clattered as the dishes wobbled back into place, then eventually returned to stillness. Elain waited for her trembling fingers to do the same. They did not.
"I don't have patience for foolishness, Elain. Answer me honestly."
He already knew the answer. Elain didn't understand why he was asking again, unless he sought to verify Lucien's account.
"I helped him," she said quietly.
"How?"
"I guided him back. The forest showed me the way. I- I can navigate it without getting lost."
Beron nodded as if he was satisfied by her explanation. "You must have known the boy was a Vanserra. Why did you help him? Did he promise you something in exchange?"
"What?" Against her best interest, she couldn't keep the disgust from her voice. "No. I helped him because he was hurt, and it was the right thing to do."
Those were, objectively, all good things. Yet, somehow, it didn't sound like praise. There was an itch on her tongue to speak up, to defend Lucien though nothing ill had quite been said about him. She still didn't know what he had been doing in those woods to begin with, but it chilled her to think Beron had not expected his injured son to come back.
The man in question was thrumming his fingers across his armrest, lost in thought.
"Have you enjoyed yourself?" He asked, finally. "In this last month in my home, have you been treated well? Has Lucien been a fair and attentive husband?"
Nothing in his tone conveyed true interest in her answer. Elain paused to take his measure, trying to determine what value he would find in these questions. Something to hold against her? Another unpaid debt? It wasn't as if she could say no, and not because she felt inclined to be honest, but simply because he was not the sort of male to voice a complaint to. Fictional or not.
"Yes," she said placidly. "Lucien and your servants have been very accommodating."
"I think you should like that to continue, hm? You see, life in my court need not be the horror your High Priestess was imagining when she refused my demands. I've shown you how pleasant it can be, and now I ask for one small favor so that you and my son can continue as you were, observing life in blissful luxury. Yes?"
Though Elain heard his unspoken threat, she refused to agree until she heard what exactly this one small favor entailed.
"I've met one other like you," he went on. "Years ago. She stole something from me, then fled from this house and hid it in those woods, in a place she knew I could never retrieve it. But how serendipitous that my son would meet his future wife in those same woods, and that she would be capable of finding it for me. All I ask is that you return what is rightfully mine."
Another seer? If she saw fit to hide something in the woods to keep it out of Beron's grasp, then Elain's instinct was to respect her wishes.
"What if I'm not able to find it?"
Initially, Elain thought Beron looked quite young for a father of seven. But now disapproval drew hard lines across his brow, ageing him significantly. It had a reciprocal effect, because Elain felt her courage withering as well. It was too quiet in the dining room. In the forest, the wind would be howling, warning her that this was a male on the threshold of speaking with violence instead of words.
"I don't reward failure, Elain. Bring me what was stolen, or you'll find that this pleasant time you've had in my court might expire."
Elain recalled the wounds she'd found across Lucien's back when he was just a boy and felt her stomach heave. If she didn't bring him what he was looking for, is that what he would do to her? To Lucien? Or… or could it be that Lucien was aiding his father? Was his gentle affection an act to demonstrate how well she could be treated if she behaved accordingly? Would her violence be at his hands if she failed?
"I think we understand each other perfectly well, now," Beron declared with a satisfied smile. He leaned forward, speared a piece of seared meat with his fork, and then slapped it onto her plate with such force that red liquid splattered onto her skirts. "Go on, eat."
She stared at her plate, feeling her stomach curdle to the point that she needed to clench a hand over her mouth to keep from being sick.
Beron observed her expression and clucked his tongue. "My, has a child taken so soon? Be gone, then. You'll begin your search once a healer's checked your womb."
Requiring no further urging, Elain bolted from the room and collided immediately into Lucien's arms.
"Elain?" A pair of strong arms encircled her, urgently searching for any sign of injury. When he saw how badly she was shaking, he pulled her tight into his chest, one hand cradled behind her head. "Shh, love. What happened? Did he hurt you?"
Love. He wouldn't call her love if he didn't mean it, would he? Wouldn't comfort her like this? It was a soft name he'd taken to rather quickly. Too quickly, now that she was combing through their every interaction with finer scrutiny.
The walk to their bedroom was little more than a blur. She was vaguely aware of Lucien's hands on her, offering steadiness that she could no longer draw from the dubiousness of his touch. Was his intent to comfort, or simply to lower her guard?
Part of her felt foolish for allowing Beron to plant doubt in her mind. The other part worried that her hopeful heart was too eager to dismiss Lucien of suspicion. Had he not told his father of the seer in the woods? Had he not fought in the war, brutally cutting down men who were defending their home? Did he not carry the Vanserra name?
Elain didn't know what to think. Lucien's hands were so gentle, guiding her to an oversized chair nestled in front of the hearth. It was already lit, already fighting the chill Beron had left in her bones as Lucien crouched before her, gilded in firelight.
"You needn't recount what happened."
The fingers she'd buried tightly in her skirt were pried away, one by one, then lifted slowly to his mouth. Any of the words Elain might summon caught in a tangle at her throat as Lucien's lips brushed over her knuckles, paying them each their own, slow devotion.
"I know my father well enough to guess," Lucien went on in a low voice that thawed her where the fire had not yet reached. Elain stiffened against the sensation, not yet ready to surrender, not yet decided if he was guilty of betraying her. "I've already told you I hold little power in this Court. But I vow to use every ounce of it, that I will exploit every option available to me—no matter how ignoble—to ensure your saftey."
Use. Exploit. Ignoble. These were not vows of softness. Though Elain was beginning to doubt if softness could ever be found in the Autumn Court. In this place, her heart would be a rosebud peeling open in the dead of winter. An oddity. A target, ripe for the picking.
She could not blame a flower for refusing to expose itself, under the same conditions. The face tilting toward her, bathed in gold and warmth, was once smaller. Rounder. Cast in the shadow and mist of the forest. But his eyes were the same, still searching her face with the same hunger of a heart starved for kindness.
Maybe it wasn't so suspicious that he would fall quickly, when she had been the first to offer it.
"There was another Seer who lived here. Did you know them?"
"A seer?" His red brows pinched together. "I didn't know there were others."
Their bargain required the truth from him, and so she believed his words. But what of the kisses being pressed into her hand? Were they truly born of affection, or just a part of a clever ruse? Elain longed to be in the woods, where the whistle of wind through trees would tell her the answer. But maybe they already had. Long ago.
The forest brought me to you for a reason, Elain thought. She turned her palm to him, letting it glide against his cheek. He was clean-shaved, but the bite of regrowing stubble still grazed her skin as Lucien leaned into the touch. His eyes fluttered shut, and she felt his heartbeat slow in her chest. I thought I was meant to lead you back to Autumn, but perhaps I was meant to lead you away. To save you from this place.
A flicker of light caught her eye. She angled her head towards the window she'd been staring out earlier, where a beacon flared to life on a distant hillside. The signal from her sisters.
Perhaps it is not too late to save us both.
Present Day
For as long as Elain could remember, the Cauldron had guided her.
A nudge of wind towards a particular path, a bird launching to the sky, a leaf falling on her shoulder. When she'd made her first steps into the wide, unfamiliar world, she'd done so with an intuition that she was never truly alone. Anywhere she went, the soil would be listening, and the magic of the land would guide her.
She kept waiting for that guidance to come. Her chest was heaving as she stumbled to a halt atop a verdant hillside, the tips of its long grass tickling her palms. She paused. Eyes scanning the swaying meadows below, searching for the signs that always made themselves known.
A bird cooed in the direction she'd fled. Wind rushed past her ears, tossing her hair behind her shoulders, causing every blade and petal in sight to flatten, as if pointing.
Go back.
She could not. She could never go back. No night of passion, no matter how ardent, could erase the promise she had made to herself. It didn't matter that Lucien had whispered honeyed words in her ear. It didn't matter that she had felt content—settled—for the first time in years. Or that she'd been left with a dull, pleasant ache between her legs that begged her to return to the warm bed they'd shared.
If Prythian could not show her a different path, then she would forge a new one.
There—in the distance, smoke rising over a distant hill. People whom she could pay for directions to the closest method of transport. The continent hadn't been far enough, clearly. She would need to find someone willing to sail to even further distant shores.
By the time she made it over the hill, the sun had risen past mid-morning. More smoke trails had joined the one she tracked, revealing a market already flooded with patrons. A crowd was a fortunate thing, for she knew Lucien had been an early riser during their time on the boat, and she had to assume he was close behind.
The first thing she bought with his money was a cloak, which she pulled over her head to hide her burnished-gold hair. Its color wasn't nearly as distinguishable in a crowd as her husband's, but his keen eyes possessed an uncanny talent for landing on her. Warmth blistered through her as she recalled the heat she'd seen in them, only hours before. How he'd kept them fixed on her own as he lowered his face between her legs.
She told herself it was only the memory that was making her glance over her shoulder, feeling her bones warm as if that same heated stare was upon her in the marketplace. A quick glance showed there was no one around who matched his height or stature. No sign of red hair. The heartbeat in her ears was slow and steady. Perhaps he was still sleeping, still happily sated in bed.
"Who can I pay for the fastest travel out of Spring?" She asked a cobbler who was perched over a tall shoestand, hammering tacks into the sole of a boot.
He didn't pause or look up from his craft, and each sharp, metal ting sent a jolt through her nerves. "Depends on where you want to go."
"The continent."
Using his hammer as a pointer, the cobbler gestured vaguely over his shoulder. "Port's that way."
And it was the first place Lucien would look.
"I can't go to the port."
"Port's the fastest way to the continent. Do you want the fastest way or not?"
His hammer swung down before she could answer, interrupting her thoughts with a rhythmic ting, ting, ting. Elain held her tongue between her teeth, barely withholding a glare while she waited for him to finish.
"Fastest way out of Spring," she corrected. "To the Summer Court. I'll make my way to the continent from there."
"From Summer? That'll add weeks to your journey. Faster to sail from Autumn."
"No." The word bit out of her so sharply that the cobbler set down his tools. Reproach pinched his expression as he finally lifted his gaze from the boot to assess her. Elain swallowed down a flood of guilt for snapping at him. "Sorry. It has to be Summer."
The cobbler huffed in a sound that wasn't quite agreement. Elain chewed her lip as he leaned back on his stool, eyes growing distant with thought as he used his shirtsleeve to wipe sweat off his brow. His lips were curling into a deep frown.
Then he sighed, and pointed to an enclosed merchant cart three stalls down. An ox was hitched to the front, scratching its hooves aimlessly in the dirt. A merchant stood at the back of the wagon, motioning folk who passed to its splayed doors, where fine articles of clothing hung from built-in hooks.
"Adryn has kin in Summer. Bet he'll take you if you pay a handsome sum."
Elain eyed the clothier, Adryn. He had a face that was difficult to pin to an exact age. Younger than the cobbler, certainly, who possessed graying hairs and deep-set wrinkles. Adryn had neither. His hair was a darker brown than her own, tousled back from his temple in short, unruly waves. The trimmed beard along his jaw suggested he was mature, but the smile he welcomed towards passing patrons was boyish. Inviting.
She nodded her thanks to the cobbler, who had already returned to hammering the boot without sparing her a second glance.
Adryn noted her approach, and had already grabbed an item off his cart to brandish on her arrival.
"Might the beautiful lady fancy a broach to fasten her cloak?" The golden clasp was held between his pointer and middle finger, and he twisted it so that light caught on the red stones. He winked. "For a maiden so fair, I'm willing to offer a discount."
Elain kept her voice low. "How much for a ride to the Summer Court?"
"I sell clothes, fair lady. Not transport."
"How much?"
She dipped her fingers into her pocket to retrieve Lucien's coin pouch. Adryn's eyes followed the motion, and she knew she had his full attention.
He considered. "Twenty gold marks. But we wait until the market dies down so I can sell the rest of my wares."
"How much to leave now?"
The question diverted Adryn's attention from the coin pouch in her hands. He studied her face, then swept his eyes down her body, his examination too slow and too thorough for her liking. She pulled her cloak tighter, thinking that she might like the broach he proffered, after all.
"What's a pretty thing like you running from? A husband?" He sucked his teeth, then shook his head. "I'm a simple merchant, lady. I've no wish to tangle myself in a lover's skirmish."
"Fifty gold marks," Elain offered.
Delight lit Adryn's green eyes. She expected he would agree, but he merely tilted his head and offered her a feral grin. "Is that even your coin, sweetheart? You give it up very willingly."
"Does it matter?"
"Not to me." He shrugged. "Though I wonder what else you might offer willingly, if you husband no longer has a claim to it."
Elain tried very hard not to think of her husband's claim, given that he'd laid it not a full day's prior. The suggestion that she might pay for travel with her body was so crude she was prepared to launch the bag of coins at Adryn's head, beat him bloody with it, and then find someone else to take her.
Sensing her impending violence, Adryn was quick to raise his hands in innocence. "I meant nothing by it, lady. My speak of willingness was sincere. It's clear you are not, so coin is as happy a currency to me as its ever been."
Her eyes were still narrowed on the clothier. "I'm dropping my offer to forty."
"Forty marks it is," he said with a laugh. "I've been meaning to visit my folks, besides. It's a welcome excuse as any."
After they exchanged the coin, Adryn turned to the hatch at the back of the cart and pulled down a retractable wooden ladder.
"Hop in," he said, slapping his palm on the side of the cart. "It will be tight squeeze with the wares, but it's a good thing cloth is soft, eh? Would have been a miserable ride if I was an armorer."
Elain said nothing, still soured from his earlier comments. Being a merchant, Adryn seemed well attuned to the moods of others, and he kept his thoughts to himself as he latched up the cart's windows and doors, shuttering the cramped space into darkness. Outside, she heard low voices—Adryn likely saying goodbye to his fellow merchants. Elain's anxiety pitched at her idle state, knowing every second wasted was another opportunity for Lucien to catch up.
Fortunately, it wasn't much longer before the entire cart lurched with the weight of someone hopping into the rider's seat at the front. She heard a whistle, an obstinate huff from the ox, and then the cart was bustling forward, wheels bumping and swaying on the uneven road.
On her own in the darkness, there wasn't anything for Elain to do but wait. A familiar pang was pinching in her chest. One of regret, of heartache. It was a relief, in some ways, to know that she had not grown entirely hardened during her years alone. Her heart was not made of stone. Not yet, at least.
-
Only the barest hints of sunlight spilled through the unsealed gaps in the hatch windows. It kept the inside of the cart dark. Given how little she'd slept the night prior, kept awake by her husband's virility, it was no wonder that Elain drifted asleep with her head cushioned atop a fur cloak.
She was jolted from that sleep when the cart ground to a halt, causing a feathered cap to dislodge from its hook and fall on her chest. Elain let out an undignified squeak, believing she was under attack before her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she saw that the only immediate threat was a tragic fashion sense.
Elain cast the hat aside with a huff. A bit of drool had collected at the corner of her lips and she hastily wiped it away, thankful there was no one to witness but herself and a collection of hats. Her entire body felt stiff from napping on such a hard surface, but she forced her knees into a crouch so she could reach for one of the windows and lift it just enough to peer through the gaps.
The sun had gone down. She didn't realize she'd been napping for so long, but it was fortunate she'd been able to pass the time so effectively. They couldn't be far from Summer now. But why had they stopped? It didn't look like they were near civilization just yet. All she could see from this side of the wagon was a grassy plain and a forest just beyond.
"Adryn?" She called. "Is everything alright?"
She heard the ox let out a heavy huff. Followed by a low, masculine string of curses. Elain clambered to the front of the cart and slammed her palm against the back of the rider's seat.
"Hello?"
Adryn didn't respond. The cart was locked from the outside, but Elain stayed her rising panic. All of his merchandise was in here. It was against his interest to lock her in the cart indefinitely.
The ox let out a sharp bellow, and then the cart lurched forward again. Its pace was slower than before. Maybe the animal was wounded? Elain chewed on her lip, listening carefully for further signs of distress. The animal was breathing harshly, grounding forward in halting motions that caused the cart to tip back and forth as if it were at sea.
Adryn gave a final, annoyed, grumble before jumping off the rider's seat, causing another sway through the cart at the loss of his weight. She heard the vague, ringing sounds of metal moving against metal. Something heavy thudded to the earth. The cart sloped forward, followed by the sound of hooves trampling over dirt, growing loud then quiet.
Had he… released the ox?
The door to the cart began rattling as its lock was being unlatched. Elain didn't know where the compulsion to grab a weapon came from, besides the fact that Adryn was acting strange. There wasn't time for her to discern what might actually be useful. As the door pulled open, all that was in reach was the feathered cap, which she promptly flung forward.
A male grunt resounded through the small space. He snatched the feathered hat, tossing it aside it with a disgruntled, "Really, Elain?"
Cold recognition spiked through her. It was dark, but not dark enough that she could mistake the long red hair and smooth-shaved face for the clothier who was supposed to be escorting her.
"What did you do to Adryn?"
Lucien's face twisted with dislike. "Afraid I've hurt your newest flame?"
"I'm afraid you've hurt an innocent man for your own self-interest."
Her husband snorted. "Then let me assuage your fears. Your shining knight allowed me to pay him off for the ox, the cart, and all the precious cargo inside. I needn't even offer my body for it."
"But—I stole your coin."
"You think that's all I carried with me?" Even in the dim lighting, she could see the smug grin on his face, and she reached for another hat with the intention of launching it at him. Lucien grabbed her wrist before she could. "I was awake as soon as you left, you know. Paid him off before the cart even left the market."
The horror of that revelation threatened to anchor her to the earth. It was Lucien steering the whole time. While she napped, blissfully content in thinking she was riding to her freedom. Elain craned her neck to peer over her husband's shoulder, understanding now that she'd never been heading for the Summer Court at all.
"Where have you taken me?"
A silver cuff clapped over her wrist in place of an answer. She watched, helpless, as Lucien closed the other side of the chain around his own wrist, binding them together. Then he half-climbed into the cart to pull her to his chest, the cradle of his arms alarmingly familiar as she was carried out against her will.
There was no need for an answer, once she was under the light of the moon, able to see their surroundings in greater detail. Luminous mist crawled towards them from the waiting forest just ahead, an eerie sight to any eyes but her own.
Oh you thought we were done with the Twilight AU? Well when @ratabrasileira came up with two irresistible poses, it really was impossible for @separatist-apologist and I to decide. So why not do them both?
@ratabrasileira thank you so much for making not just one, but TWO amazing art pieces when truly all we threw at you were vibes. You completely understood the assignment and went above and beyond and we couldn't appreciate you more!!!
"...most things in life can be seen either tragic or comic. And it’s your choice. Is life a big, long, tiresome slog from sadness to regret to guilt to resentment to self-pity? Or is life weird, outrageous, bizarre, ironic, and just stupid? Gotta go with stupid. It’s not the easy way out. Self-pity is the easiest thing in the world. Finding the humor, the irony, the slight justification for a skewed, skeptical optimism, that’s tough."
Continuing with the theme of shadow prompts, it's day 5: Animorphs which SHOULD HAVE WON but I'm not bitter. In my never ending journey to bullycollaborate with my best fandom friends, @shallyne took on truly the hardest art challenge of the week- Elucien animorphs. Can you BELIVE every artist I asked besides Shallyne said no?
And she truly nailed the concept with Lucien morphing into a fox, and Elain a bunny- this was not an easy concept at all, and @shallyne, I hope you know just how much I love and adore you. You are truly one of the best people in this fandom, and I'm so grateful we got to know one another and I can count you among one of my friends.
Also thanks to @the-lonelybarricade who enthusiastically agreed to this shadow prompt week and has been a good sport about it the entire time- you have the best sense of humor of anyone I know, and I hope you're having as much fun as I am
I'd like to share some Elucien art that I've done over the past 2 years and haven't posted because I didn't think it was good enough or I just didn't vibe with it
While I haven't been very vocal about my love for them recently I'm still very much an Elucien at heart .
“But if they’re blessed, they’ll find their mate—their equal, their match in every way. High Fae wed without the mating bond, but if you find your mate, the bond is so deep that marriage is … insignificant in comparison.”
Day Four - Arranged Marriage for @elucienweekofficial
Happy @elucienweekofficial my loves! 🦊🌸 And during my birthday month too? It really feels like a gift. 🥹💛
I’m so excited for the upcoming books and (hopefully!) finally getting more of Lucien and Elain’s story. Their romance has some of my favorite tropes of all time. Give me reluctant mates, yearning, longing, impossible circumstances, and a slow burn that actually earns its payoff every single time.
SJM has said she was going to create tension before the healing, and that’s exactly what we’ve all be waiting for. Every obstacle in their story exists to make that eventual moment when they choose each other even better. That’s the magic of a slow burn, the longing makes the payoff unforgettable.
So this beautiful piece of art felt like the perfect one to share for Elucien Week. 💛☀️And when these two finally come together? The fire Elain is destined to feel is going to burn so beautifully. 🔥✨
A huge thank you to v_fisch03 for capturing the longing, tension, and absolute hotness between these two so perfectly. Your ability to bring emotion is incredible. It’s genuinely so beautiful, and I’m so grateful you share your talent with this fandom.It’s always a pleasure working with you. 💛
On the eve of battle Lucien wakes up to find himself tied up and taken prisoner by Elain. He begrudgingly follows her on a wild goose chase through the Middle. He doesn't know why he's there, or what she wants from him, considering she has spent the last six months ignoring him completely, he assumes the worst. Can Elain convince Lucien to have faith in her when...they can't speak or make a sound the entire journey?
Snippet:
A set of cool hands were worrying over a wound on his shoulder. They were painstakingly delicate; barely pinching his skin together, and dabbing slowly at the blood seeping from the wound. He didn’t have the strength to tell her to just get on with it. Drops of water kept hitting his bicep and that repetitive but distant feeling was enough to irk him to full wakefulness. He cracked an eye open. She was sobbing.
Elucien recency au told through an epistolary fic! :))
Hello Dearest Reader,
Today, I shall tell you of an unfathomable series of events that seem to not only have this author baffled, but all of Prythain! What should have been a surreptitiously exchange between two members of high society quickly turned into more when they were discovered at no other place than the party of the season! With a wedding planned and dowry secured, this author can not help but suspect that the two elected to marry to prevent besmirching the fine lady. Ultimately, one shall see how the lord and his lady shall face the thwarts of the future.
Thank you to the volunteers and those that are making Elucien week possible! You are the real stars here! I’m so thankful to be a part of this wonderful event for the first time ever!!!
Thank you also @themadmorrigan and @olenvasynyt you have been such a big help with this fic! Also thank you, Dana, for your wonderful banners that I strive to use in absolutely everything!
A slow burn, regency reimagining of Prythian, written for @elucienweekofficial 2026 • Day 4: Arranged Marriage • AO3
After two years out of society, Elain Archeron is determined to find a husband.
When she meets Viscount Graysen Nolan, she falls head over heels, and with his proposal all but guaranteed, everything feels as though it’s falling right into place.
Until it falls apart.
Facing ruin or a life on the shelf, an out-of-the-blue offer of marriage from Prince Lucien Vanserra, Duke of Glenacre, turns her world upside down.
Now married to a man she barely knows while nursing her heartbreak over the one she’d planned her life with, Elain must contend with lust, lies, and longing to find the one thing she’s wanted all along: love.
Elain comes up with a plan to save her mate from Beron
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Elain Archeron/Lucien Vanserra
Characters: Elain Archeron, Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron, Rhysand (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Nesta Archeron, Beron Vanserra (derogatory)
Additional Tags: Day 4: Arranged Marriage, yet again i am including prythians legal system, elain “his name is Lucien” archeron, no one touches elains mate
Summary:
Lucien wakes up after a night out in Vegas with a ring on his finger, and Elain Archeron in his bed. This is his dream come true, until it's not.
preview under the cut!
for @elucienweekofficial
“Elain, have you considered that maybe he–” The bell above the door chimed, signalling another patron had entered the bar.
Elain felt Lucien before she saw him, his presence looming over her shoulder. She stared intently at the wall of liquor in front of her, ignoring both Vassa and Jurian’s twin expressions of amusement and disbelief. Both of Lucien’s hands gripped the bar on either side of her, his wedding band winking at her merrily under the lights, and Elain shivered when she felt the brush of his chest against her back. She could see pieces of his long red hair out of the corner of her eye, and the brush of them against her cheek had her spinning the bar stool around to face him.
Mistake. That was a mistake.
He was so close Elain could feel his breath against her lips; the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk as he moved so that their noses would brush ever so slightly.
“Hello, wife. How many drinks have you had?” He lifted a hand off the bar to wave at Vassa and Jurian, introducing himself without breaking eye contact. Elain ignored her friends’ chuckles with a small huff. Lucien's eyes were full of mischief; he always enjoyed getting a rise out of her, and it seemed some things hadn't changed after five years apart.
“That’s none of your business, Lucien. And I am not your wife.” The last part was a hiss. Whiskey was making her brave, but his proximity was making her weak, and Elain’s brain struggled to keep up, especially when he leaned forward and let his lips trail her cheek before resting on her ear.
Her fingers gripped the plastic seat cushion for dear life, Lucien’s rough chuckle moving down her spine. “Lainey. You know why I’m here. I waited five years and gave you space, but I can’t do this anymore. I love you. I missed you terribly. And I am going to make it up to you, whether it takes three days or three years. You’re mine, and I won’t let you go again.”
Elain bolted. She grabbed her purse and ducked under his arm, yanking Vassa off her stool and out the door in the process. She called over her shoulder:
Summary : Elain can no longer ignore the bond, so she comes up with a flawless plan and hopes Lucien doesn’t object. Of course, spending more time together leads to a hopeless romance <3
Note : Happy Elucien Week and thank you to the amazing volunteers that organise @elucienweekofficial I have been so so excited for this event!!! This is a short multi-chapter fic that was heavily inspired by the various Regency and Victorian romance novels I’ve read over the last few months :)
Lucien,
I have written you countless letters, and none of them feel right.
Lucien,
Feyre asked me today if I preferred the Autumn Court to Velaris. I told her I found the politics tedious, but there is something so very special about it. I just didn’t want her to feel upset over what she can’t control. Truthfully, I’m not sure if I like Autumn better simply because you’re there.
I remember you telling me once that the air in the Forest House tastes different than anywhere else in Prythian. When I went to the coffee shop by the Sidra today (the one with those flaky pastries you like so much), I finally figured it out.
It tastes like apples and vanilla and it never fails to remind me of the bakeries on the other side of the wall. All those hearths make everything warm, too. In a strange, unexpected way, it almost feels like home.
When I’m in the Night Court, I find myself looking forward to returning to the Forest House with you.
Yours,
Elain.
* * *
Lucien,
I am tired of pretending.
Lucien,
I found a dried leaf from the Forest House gardens tucked between the pages of the botany book I borrowed from Aspasia. It is the exact colour of your eye (not the mechanical one, just in case you were unsure).
Has it really only been a few days since I saw you? It feels like an eternity. I have gotten entirely too used to your company.
I’m thinking about you.
Yours,
Elain.
* * *
Lucien,
I never have the courage to tell you that I wish things were different between us.
Lucien,
When I was young and my family was wealthy, my father promised he would find me a prince to marry. My mother was certain she could arrange an advantageous match, but a marriage with royalty?
Unlikely.
Is it strange that I still think about my life before? About what could have been and what never will be? Whenever you stay with Jurian and Vassa, these sorts of thoughts trouble me. Not in the way you might think.
I can’t imagine my life without you.
I like to imagine we still would have met, despite everything.
Yours,
Elain.
* * *
Lucien,
I see you in my dreams.
Lucien,
I keep having the strangest dreams.
Last night, I woke up with your name on my lips. Being in Autumn without you is the worst sort of torture. Everything reminds me of you.
I need to feel your arms around me, to feel you inside me. I need your touch like I need air to breathe.
I find it unfair, how these dreams won’t let me sleep.
I touch myself and think you must be doing the same. I can hear your heart, can feel it down the bond. All I can think about is the way your skin feels beneath my fingers. I want you with me always.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.
Yours,
Elain.
* * *
I love you.
* * *
Lucien,
I feel we must speak about our arrangement.
Yours,
Elain.
* * *
Lucien,
When you hold me from behind, when you press your forehead against my shoulder blade in the quiet hours of the morning, what are you thinking about? I have always wondered.
We have built something very strange, haven't we? The word I am thinking of feels too heavy, too permanent, but it is there, pressing against the back of my throat every time you kiss me.
Tell me you love me, so I can say it back.
Yours,
Elain.
* * *
Lucien,
It is past midnight now, and I am looking at the stars as I write.
I spent the entire evening wishing we could have celebrated the equinox at the Forest House. It is not the same, in Velaris and without you by my side. Promise me that next year we will spend it together?
Hello Everyone and welcome to Day 4 of Elucien Week.
Prompt: Arranged Marriage.
Synopsis: When opposing forces threaten the Spring Court and the Human Realm, Elain Archeron enters into a politically based marriage with Lucien Vanserra to protect both their people. Falling for a faerie was never Elain’s plan, but will he prove more irresistible than she thought.
Disclaimer: This is a starting chapter to a new fic that I've been playing around with lately, Let me know what you think and I hope everyone enjoys it!
From the moment Elain Archeron came of age, she knew she had to become everything her mother thought she was not.
She had heard remarks from the matron of the manor that day when she had assumed that Elain was not listening, how she thought Elain was nothing more than a pretty face and a wandering mind, a rose that brought beauty to their family, but not much else. She wondered if her mother had been so daft that she had forgotten that roses despite their remarkable beauty also had thorns.
She thought upon that now as she glanced at the stubborn rose bush that had now became the bane of her existence. She grasped at it again, trying to tame it, to get it to bend to her will, it was the only thing in her garden that she had no control over. Something that was as stubborn and as vicious as she.
Growling in frustration, she ripped off her gloves, throwing them to the side as soon as she fell ass back in the dirt. She had long since learned to detest roses, Especially these ones.
She kicked at the rose bush, sticking her tongue out at the infuriating bush as footfalls sounded behind her, a chuckle sounding at her back as her cheeks were painted a fierce shade of crimson, that laugh sending a roaring fire throughout her blood.
"How long have you been standing there?" She huffed, throwing him a withering glance, her face pinched in what she hoped was distaste as Lucien leaned against an elm tree, a smirk upon his face as it sent a roaring blaze throughout her mind.
"Long enough to see you lose your battle against your fiercest opponent." He admitted as she fumed. He had grown rather accustom to her foul moods as of late, probably because he was the only one that was subjected to them.
Yet he still stays. Her mind reminded her as her jaw clenched at the thought.
She abruptly stood up, wiping the dirt that had accumulated on her smock as she fully faced him to display her full frustration.
"Was there something you needed? Or are you just here to stand there and gawk at me all day?"
Lucien shrugged, the sun reflecting off of his exposed flesh, making the golden brown skin gleam as his red hair shone. She glanced away, swallowing down any lust that the sight of him brought on. No matter how much this male had become a nuisance to her, she had to admit that she had been mated to a rather tempting male. And she hated every part of her that was willing to risk it all for him.
"Rhys called upon me, he states that he has an urgent matter he wants to discuss. With the both of us." He answered, averting his gaze from hers as Elain's eyebrows rose.
"What could we possibly have to discuss? You and I-well, he's never asked to see us together." Not that Rhys asked much of her at all, even at her insistence that she was apart of this court and more than capable of maneuvering politics as they were, they still kept her out of things. It was remarkably frustrating to say the least.
His brows rose in surprise, daring to take a step towards her as she stiffened, that invisible string that connected them pulling taut as he seized his steps. noting her discomfort. He had always been remarkably good at that.
She fiddled with her fingers, needing to do anything except focus on the need to touch him to close the distance between them. She hated it. That want, that need. But the most frustrating thing about that need was she did not know if it was born from her own unfulfilled desires or from the bond that had been forged between the two. The one that made her head spin and her resentment grow.
Elain knew reasonably that it was not Lucien's fault. He had as much of a say about this bond then she did, And maybe it was misplaced anger that made her act this way around him, but- he was the only one she could be mad at. The one who wouldn't automatically resent her for doing so. She wished he did. It would make avoiding him that much easier.
"Your guess is as good as mine. I came here before seeking him out because I hoped you would know something."
"Why would I know anything?" She grumbled under her breath.
Lucien raked a hand through his hair, clearing his throat,
"Best not to keep them waiting."
She huffed, gathering her skirts as she moved past him, making an effort not to look at him, knowing that he followed as they made their way to Rhys's office
"Have you lost what's left of your mind?" Lucien barked, barely containing the rage that swelled up inside of him as Elain sat shocked and pale beside him. He did not blame her for it. What Rhys had suggested was pure and utter madness.
The High Lord of the Night Court turned towards them, Nyx strapped to his chest as the babe cracked one eye open, glancing at Lucien.
Lucien settled himself, reminding himself that there was a child present. Perhaps it was one of the reasons that Rhys had brought him in. To soften the impact of the blow when Lucien and Elain hurled their oppositions at him. Perhaps that was why she was not reacting now.
Rhys's eyebrows rose, cradling Nyx to his chest as the babe fell back asleep. Lucien sent a prayer up to The Mother herself so he would not forget himself once again. He was a diplomat, a highly trained male with centuries of experience, he knew better than to manuever this poorly during a politically based meeting, but the suggestion, the mere thought of it landed a physical blow to Lucien that had hit him harder than he expected.
"You-want us to marry?" Elain inquired. Her voice distant, as if she could hardly believe it herself.
The mere thought of it was absurd. They could barely stand to be in the same room as one another, yet Rhys wanted them to marry one another. His reasonings Lucien himself couldn't possibly know, he supposed it would not matter soon enough, he refused to subject Elain to this when this was the last she wanted.
"That is the idea, yes." Rhys answered as Lucien's temper flared,
"What for? What could possibly be your reasoning for this?" Lucien counterargued, throwing a withering glare Rhys's way.
"Do I need a reason?" Rhys glanced at him, as the flames in Lucien's eyes sizzled, his power bubbling up to the surface as Rhys tsked. "Fine. Have it your way. I need you two to marry because all our other efforts to revive the Spring Court have failed."
Lucien slackened, the fire within him dissipating at the mention of the court he used to call home, the one that had fallen into ruin. The one he had failed to help time and time again.
"I don't see how a marriage between us would solve anything. Given my current status there amongst the citizens, and my current standing with their High Lord, I don't see how I would be much help there at all. "
He did not blame them for their ire, Their hatred. Lucien had failed them. Time and time again he had failed them. Their hatred was the least that he deserved.
A muscle in Rhys's jaw ticked, "I considered as much, which is why I spoke with Tamlin before i arranged this meeting."
"Tamlin-agreed to this?" Lucien asked in shock. He had not said as much before Lucien had set off this morning, had not even mentioned that he had even spoke to Rhys personally within the past few months. Though he did not tell Lucien much these days.
He swore he could see a flicker of sympathy in Rhys's gaze before he straightened in his chair.
"He knows we're running out of options, knows that his wards are weakened and his court is not what it once was." Rhys gaze flickered out the window as if he could see the courts beyond. "Knows that your father is gathering his armies and forging his alliances with Koschei to take the land from underneath his feet. And who better to stop him than Beron's errant son and the sister of the female who he feels played a part in the falling of his court."
Rhys's face twisted in distaste at the last part as Lucien's jaw clenched, the feeling of betrayal settling within Lucien's bones. How could Tamlin do this? Not to him, he could care less about what Tamlin did to him, but to involve Elain-
"I'll do it."
Surprise coursed through him as his gaze snapped to Elain's. His gaze raking over her as if this was some sort of illusion. A trick. She could not actually be-
"Whatever I can do to help this court and the ones beyond it, I will do it."
"Why?" Lucien inquired as her gaze burned within is.
"The Spring Court is all that stands between your father and The Human Realm. I'll be damned if I let him get his hands on either of them. To leave-To leave those humans vulnerable to the Death God whose presence threatens their very existence , If we have to marry, if we have to be the last line of defense against him. Then so be it. I will do what I must."
Lucien sucked in a breath, glancing at the female before him as his eyes searched her own, and saw no hesitation within her gaze. She-She actually wanted this.
"But to marry-"
"Are arranged marriages not customary in your court?" Elain inquired as Lucien's stomach dropped.
"They are."
"Then I don't see why our union should be any different." She told him, her gaze focusing back on her brother in law, "I shall need some time to gather my things and have them sent to the manor in the Spring Court."
"Not the manor." Lucien interrupted, "Tamlin has not permitted me on it for quite some time."
"Then where do you stay when you're there?" Elain asked.
A blush painted Lucien's cheeks, as he stated,
"I have a cottage near the property, it's small, but if it's only the two of us, I don't see us sharing the space as too much of a problem."
He had taken some of the coin he had made from Rhys and Feyre in the past year as their emissary to purchase it. It hadn't been what he was used to, but it was still his. A place to call his own, even when he felt a if he belonged no where.
Elain glanced away as she stood, addressing Rhysand as she answered,
"Then have my things sent there, and I will be there in a matter of days to-to seal our union."
Lucien nodded as Elain gathered her skirts and swiftly left the room without looking back at him.
"Lucien, I-" Rhys started as Lucien stood,
"Don't." He growled out as he winnowed away not giving the High Lord time to respond before he vanished into thin air.
Taking a deep fortifying breath to center herself, Elain tilted her head back, pressing it against the wooden oak door of her room as she took a look around, memorizing it.
She knew why she had done it, knew why she had agreed to this marriage when the mere thought of it sounded preposterous. Her...Lucien Vanserra's wife, her mother would roll in her grave at the thought of it. At her marrying a fae, even if said fae was born from nobility. exiled or not, Lucien had made quite the name for himself without his family's name to do so.
But marrying Lucien offered her something that they did not expect, it offered her a sense of freedom that she felt she had not been allotted the vast majority of her life.
When her family looked at her, they saw someone they needed to protect, to shelter. And at first she had been fine playing into that role, but now, now that role was damn near suffocating, and she was one more well meaning sheltering away from blowing that shelter down like a storm.
What worked for her before-what had always worked, no longer worked for her now. And if this was the only way for her to achieve it, then so be it. She would bind herself to Lucien if it gave her some semblance of what life could be beyond a life like this. Even if being around him drove her mad sometimes, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make.
Blowing out a sigh, she crossed her room, opening up her wardrobe and running her fingers over the array of gowns she had received throughout the past couple of years. Would she need to take all of them, or would some clothes be provided?
She had never been fond of the colors of the Night Court, the fabrics had always made her skin appear so sallow, but she did have quite a few in her wardrobe that would work within the Spring Court, and she supposed that if she needed any made she could always ask or have Lucien take her to one of the dress makers in the court, if any remained.
She gathered a few of her dresses, laying them on the bed as she glanced around, her lips pursing. She didn't even have a bag for travel, that's how little she got out of this court.
As if The Mother herself had heard Elain's predicament, a knock sounded at the door rushed and hurried, Elain sighed, knowing that this visit might not be a pleasant one as she opened the door and Nesta breezed through,
"You're marrying Lucien." She told her, her breath coming out in a rush as if she had ran here when she had heard the news.
"And hello to you too, sister." Elain mused turning her attention back to her wardrobe and piling more of her things on the bed.
"Spare me the pleasantries, and help me understand, you can't stand to be near him for more than two seconds and now you've agreed to marry him."
"I don't have to justify my reasoning to you, Nesta." She retorted, hated that she was being scolded as if she were no more than a child.
Nesta looked prepared to argue, but chose instead to chose a different tactic,
"Marriage comes with obligations, Elain. It's not just something you go into spontaneously-"
"And I understand those, Nesta, or have you already forgotten that I partook in the same lessons you did?"
"So you're willing to lie with him? To provide him-children?"
Elain's cheeks flamed, this was not something she wished to discuss with either of her sisters.
"We have other obligations to prioritize before we even cross those bridges. Lucien and I are both aware of this."
Nesta let out a low laugh and Elain fought a scowl. As frustrating as Lucien was, he had not pushed her into returning any affection towards him, she had to trust him, even if it was even the slightest bit, to not push her into any form of intimacy.
"Was there something else you needed?" She asked. A form of dismissal.
"Elain, I know sometimes I may come across as overbearing, but at the end of the day, I don't want to see you do anything that doesn't make you happy. Can you tell me with absolute certainty that this will?"
She glanced at her sister, truly glanced at her, as she took a deep breath to center herself,
"I've learned in life that nothing is a certainty, Nesta. But one thing I am certain on is that I want to do this. I want to help, I want to-I want to go on my own adventures, and take control of my own destiny, and if this a stepping stone towards that then I'm more than willing to take it."
Nesta moved towards her, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze as she pulled her into a hug,
"Promise you'll write." She replied, tears spilling onto her cheeks.
"I swear it."
Nesta nodded, pulling away from Elain as she moved towards the door, grabbing a suitcase as Elain traced the flowers that were embraided on the leather,
"Consider it my wedding gift to you. I figured you would need one."
Elain gathered her sister into a hug again before Nesta left Elain to her packing once more,
Elain gathered herself, taking another breath to center herself as she turned towards the desk that was pushed towards the edge of her room, opening it as she glanced down at the letters contained inside.
Letters from him that she had received and not answered, mixed with letters she had written but not sent. She placed a delicate hand on them, her finger traveling over Lucien's smooth and elegant handwriting, words she had read time and time again when she wanted-when she wanted a way to travel outside of this court. Letters about his travels and his escapades throughout the courts and beyond, even if she did detest his presence at times, she had to admit that his words had brought her comfort when she needed them.
She knew she should leave them, along with the letters that she had wrote in an effort to respond to him, but something deep within her tugged at her, encouraging her to do so.
She opened the suitcase, placing it on her bed before gathering the letters to place on bottom when the box caught her attention, the ones that contained the delicate pearl earrings he had gifted her last Solstice, next to the enchanted gloves he had gifted her the year before.
She hadn't known why she kept them, but as she gathered them with the letters, she found herself placing them at the bottom of her suitcase before she piled her clothes on top of them. Going to her open wardrobe as she got out the jacket that she had not bothered to give back to him. She never found an opportune moment to do so, or at leas that's what she always told herself.
She would give it back to him, she swore, or perhaps sneak it into his own things so he wouldn't notice. He would notice it if she didn't, and the last thing she wanted Lucien to do was inquire why she still had it, why she hadn't tossed it out.
She put the jacket in her suitcase sipping it up as she sat on her bed, taking one last look around her before she made her way to make her goodbyes and head towards the next step of her path.
Lucien was all out of ideas, and running out of time as he laid in the decaying patch of grass amongst him, glancing up at the cloudless sky.
Most would not find themselves comfortable amongst decaying grass, but Lucien had grown accustom to it over the centuries of his life. It had always reminded him of his home.
"Why are you lying in the grass?" He had asked her once, her laugh flowing over him,
"You should try it some time, it's not as bad as you think."
He shook his head, clearing his mind. The last thing he needed to do was think about his former lover days before he was set to be married.
Lucien's jaw clenched, his anger at both Tamlin and Rhys still swelling, at arranging this marriage between them without even taking their feelings on the matter into consideration. He cursed them both for even coming up with the concept.
Tamlin knew his history, knew that he had bore witness to his parent's loveless marriage, and knew that the last thing Lucien would desire was his own marriage ending up the same way and now him and Rhys had probably damned him to the same fate. His blood boiled at the mere thought of it, of Elain, enduring the same fate his mother was still subjected to. He couldn't bare the thought of it.
A crunch in front of him sounded as he growled out,
"Leave me be, Tamlin, I'm in no mood for your company."
"Then would you settle for mine?" A feminine and familiar voice called out from beyond, he sat up, his gaze finding hers as the sight of her took his breath away. It always had. Though he would never admit it out loud,
He sat up, resting his arms on his knees as he dared a glance at her,
"I didn't expect you until tomorrow." He admitted as she took a step wandering towards him, assured in her steps, more assured then they had been in the past. It-surprised him,
She gestured to the ground next to him,
"May I?"
Lucien's eyebrows rose, as he loosened a breath, somehow the gesture had became more difficult with her near.
"You may do as you wish." He stated, and he meant it. She was not his, and he would not control her actions. Even with this marriage set in place, he would never subject her to the life that his mother had grown accustom to.
She gathered her skirts, a nice shade of sage green to match the vines that accompanied the sunflowers on her corset, her attire making her appear as if she were made for a court like Spring. She took a seat next to him, the air leaving his lungs, his heart palpitating at the mere proximity of her. Could she hear that too as she once had before? Could she hear precisely what she did to him?
"I've come to apologize." She told him as his eyebrows rose in question, he expected a lot of things from Elain, but an apology had not been one of them.
"What ever do you have to apologize for?"
"I was-abrupt in my acceptance of the marriage proposal, I did not -I did not think how perhaps you might feel about it."
"You don't need to worry about that." He assured her.
"But I still do. I know of your history, of you own parents marriage, I-I didn't think how being placed in the same situation your parents were in might affect you and for that I am sorry."
He glanced at her, the sun reflecting off the golden brown of her hair, she looked beautiful in this light, even amongst the decaying of the grass and the fields that surrounded them . She was still beautiful, she always had been.
"I always thought-" he started, he wasn't sure how to speak to her, what to say, he had always had the ability to do so with others, but with Elain-With Elain she truly left him speechless.
"Thought what?" She urged him to continue, and he would not start this marriage off with dishonesty.
"When I thought of a marriage, I know it sounds silly, but I thought it would be one for love. I never wanted what the court I grew up in expected of me. And once before I thought-I thought I had the chance for that."
Her head bowed at that as she twisted her thumbs in response,
"What was she like?" She inquired as Lucien blinked.
When he mentioned Jesminda around others, they had always inquired about how she had died, not how she had lived. Elain had been the first one who even bothered to ask him that.
"She was-She was like air." Lucien started as Elain glanced at him, her eyes nearly golden in the reflective light of the sun. "She lived in a way that felt like freedom, she hated to be contained, She bulked at adhering to the thought of a small life in the village she was born into. In that matter, we were very much the same."
"She sounds lovely. You-You must have really loved her."
"I did." He admitted as she searched his gaze as he felt her hand slip into his own.
He sucked in a breath, daring not to move in case any blatant movement scared her away.
"I'm sorry that you lost her." She told him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "That you had to endure such a terrible ordeal."
"I survived it." He stated glancing to the field beyond.
"You shouldn't have had to." She told him as their gazes caught once more.
"Neither should you." He claimed squeezing her own hand,
Her throat bobbed, tears shining in her eyes as she took another breath,
"Then perhaps this marriage doesn't have to start off with us resenting one another. Perhaps, perhaps we could start anew, as friends."
A corner of his mouth flicked up as he squeezed her hand,
"I would like that very much."
She smiled broadly at him, the sight of it sparking something deep within him as she gathered her skirts and offered him a hand,
"Then perhaps my friend will show me where I shall be staying."
He took her hand in his own smiling up at her as he answered,
