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[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone that has read Chapter 1 of this little ficlet (link at the bottom if you haven't yet). This installment is Lucien's first day regressed, ready to experience life as Helion's little boy. As always, I love getting feedback and comments, even if it's constructive criticism.

Nightmares to Daydreams Chapter 2

Lucien awoke slowly, tentatively, briefly disoriented about where he was.  Then he remembered.  He was in his bed, in his room at the palace in Iliiosa.  Better yet, he remembered that Father had promised him a whole week of fun activities while Mother was visiting her family in the Autumn Court.  He threw off the covers excitedly and jumped out of bed. 

He went to his wardrobe and pulled it open, wanting to get dressed quickly.  The sooner he got to breakfast, the sooner they’d be off on their first outing.  He pulled on a pair of white leggings and then a bright yellow tunic.  After slipping his feet into a pair of shoes, he ran a comb through his red hair.  Then he burst out of his bedroom as if it were Winter Solstice.  He literally ran down the hall to the dining room.

His father wasn’t there yet, but breakfast was set out.  Lucien grinned as he surveyed the selection of pastries that were available.  It was like choosing dessert for breakfast!  He chose two large pastries filled with cream cheese and fruit – one cinnamon apples and one with blackberries.

“Don’t forget some protein,” his father’s voice suddenly said, a twinge of a smile in his tone.

Lucien looked up suddenly to see him standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.  “But the pastries are so good!” Lucien protested.  “And I already touched them.”

His father smirked, pushed off the doorframe and came towards Lucien.  “I didn’t say you can’t have the pastries, just that you need some protein as well.  So you choose – bacon, sausage, and/or eggs.”

Lucien decided the directive wasn’t the worst thing ever.  He liked breakfast meats too, they just didn’t feel like eating dessert.  So he took a sausage patty and two strips of bacon.

“Do you want some eggs?” his father asked as he dished his own breakfast.

“Yes please,” Lucien agreed with a nod.

Helion nodded and served him a single spoonful of eggs.  “You finish that and if you’re still hungry, we’ll get you some more.”

Lucien nodded and took his plate to the table. His father soon joined him, putting a glass of milk in front of Lucien with an adoring smile.

“What are we doing first?” Lucien asked eagerly.

Helion smiled at him.  “Well I thought you could help me visit with the villagers in Solaville.  They had a fire about a week ago and we should make sure they have everything they need to repair their buildings.”

Lucien frowned.  “A fire?”  Personally, he didn’t mind fire, but he knew it was scary for most people, and if their homes and shops burnt down, that would be very bad.

Helion nodded solemnly. “Not to worry,” he assured Lucien.  “No one was injured, but many of their homes and shops were destroyed.”

“I coulda helped,” Lucien asserted confidently.  He had fire gifts.  He hadn’t practiced with them very much, but he was positive he could’ve helped the people in Solaville.

His father smiled lovingly at him.  “Certainly as you get older and have more control of your gifts, you’ll be a real asset in controlling fires, but this one was probably too big for you right now.”

Lucien frowned, frustrated, and picked at his bacon.

Helion reached over and placed a gentle hand over Lucien’s.  “I appreciate your big heart and your desire to help, son.  All the more reason why I think it will be good for you to go with me today.  The people will enjoy seeing you and will be comforted to know that their future High Lord cares about their well-being.”

Lucien nodded and offered him a little smile.  “I’ll show them how much we care, Father,” he promised.

They finished breakfast quickly and then prepared to leave.  Helion pulled on a cloak and looked Lucien over.  “You’d better bring a cloak as well.”

“Alright,” Lucien agreed grudgingly as one of the attendants came forward with his cloak.  “But I won’t get cold.”

“Humor me,” his father replied with a knowing smile.  “If you get a cold because I took you to the mountains without a cloak, your mother will never forgive me.”

Lucien nodded and turned to his father, ready to go.  “Is Solaville close enough for horses?” he asked hopefully.  Lucien loved riding his horse.

Helion shook his head.  “No.  One of these days we’ll take a trip overland to get there, but today we’ll winnow.”

“Okay!” Lucien agreed, equally excited to winnow.

His father held out his hand to Lucien.  He took a step closer to Father and put his hand in the male’s  large, strong, yet gentle hand.  “One . . . Two . . . Three . . .” Father counted out and then winnowed from their sitting room to the outskirts of a village in the foothills of the mountains.

Lucien resisted the compulsion to shiver as the cool mountain air hit him full on.

“I knew the cloak was a good idea,” Helion said with a smirk and squeezed Lucien’s hand knowingly.  “Come on, let’s go find the town’s mayor.”

So the two of them headed towards the town, but it didn’t take long for Lucien to realize the silhouettes of the buildings were all wrong.  They had jagged roofs where some of them had caved in.  Some walls were missing on buildings.  The large storehouse was just a skeleton of a building.

“Father . . .” he whispered.

“I know, Lucien,” his father replied.  “But remember what I said.  No one was really injured and buildings can be rebuilt.”

Lucien just nodded, truly humbled by the destruction before him.

“My Lord, Helion!” called a tall, broad fairy as he hurried towards them.

Helion waved with his free hand.  “Aron,” he called back.

“Ah, and young Lucien, I presume?” Aron asked as he joined them twenty yards from the nearest building.

Lucien felt a little shy but offered a wave and a tentative smile.

Helion looked down and smiled proudly.  “Yes.  Lucien has a big heart and wants to be sure that all of you are alright.”

Lucien nodded his agreement,but wasn’t brave enough to speak yet.  He just held tight to his father’s hand.  In return, Helion gave it another reassuring squeeze.

“Well we’re honored to have you visit, Lord Helion,” Aron said solemnly.  “And you too, Lord Lucien.  Come let me show you how we’re progressing on repairing what can be fixed.”

Helion motioned for the mayor to lead the way.

As his father and Aron spoke, Lucien tried to take everything in.  There were fairies hauling crates out a severely damaged building.  There was another group of fairies raising a new beam onto the lintel of a doorway into a larger building.  It looked like maybe it was a meeting hall.  In the center of the village was a square and on the square was set up several tables and benches.  Some other children were sitting at the tables, books in hand, and heads bowed in concentration.  Lucien wrinkled his nose at the thought of having to study when the whole village looked like it could crumble around them at any moment.

Additional fairies joined Helion and Aron’s conversation.  One was a short, plump female.  She grinned at Lucien and when it was her turn to speak, she reached out a hand to him.  “Would the young lord like to join myself and the other children in some games?” she offered.  “They’re just about done with their morning studies.”

Helion looked down at Lucien expectantly, clearly allowing him to make the decision on his own.  Lucien looked to the children and back to the plump fairy before him.  “I like games,” he finally said.

His father let go of Lucien’s hand and pat his back gently.  “Then go play,” he said with encouragement in his voice.  “I’ll be nearby.”

“Okay,” Lucien agreed slowly.  He took a few steps towards the female fairy and let her lead him away towards the children in the village square.

“Children!” she said when they reached the collection of tables and benches.  “Lord Helion’s son, Lucien, has come to visit us today.”

The children looked at him wide-eyed, but most of them also grinned at him.

“Wanna plan hide and go seek?” one of the boys asked.

Lucien nodded.  “I like that one,” he agreed.

“Great!” the boy exclaimed with a smile.  “I’ll count first.” And with that, he sat back down, put his head down on one of the tables, covered his eyes and started counting.

“C’mon!” a girl whispered to Lucien urgently.  “I know a great place to hide”

Lucien smiled and ran off with her to hide from the boy counting in the square.

Lucien had a great time playing hide-and-go-seek.  He didn’t even mind when it was his turn to be “it”.  All the other children were really friendly and even though he learned that some of them didn’t have a house anymore, they were very cheerful.

He was sitting down to lunch with them, when his father approached with some other adults.  “Well that looks good,” he said, nodding to Lucien’s stew.  “Looks like you kids worked up quite an appetite playing this morning.”

The other children replied with a chorus of agreement.

Helion addressed Lucien directly.  “Did you say thank you?”

“Yes, Father,” Lucien promised.

“The little lord even helped fetch water from the well,” the plump female who had invited him to play told Helion.  “Quite a helpful young male.”

His father beamed.  “I’m so glad to hear it,” and he patted Lucien proudly on the back.

Lucien got to finish his lunch while his father wrapped up his conversation with the mayor and other village leaders.  Before he could start playing a new game with the other children, though, Helion summoned Lucien to him.

“We’re going to have a battle, Father!” Lucien told him excitedly. 

His father smiled sympathetically at him.  “Not today, Lucien,” he said.  “It’s time to go home.”

Lucien’s face and spirits fell a little as he turned back to the group of children waiting for him to rejoin them.

“You and I can play a game when we get back to the palace,” Helion offered.  “I have no other meetings today.”

That idea brightened Lucien’s mood considerably.

“Can I go say goodbye?” he asked hopefully.

“Of course,” his father said with a smile.

Lucien ran back to the other children.  “Sorry,” he started.  “I have to go now.”

“Will you come back?” one of the boys asked.

“Hopefully,” Lucien replied.  “Maybe Father will need to meet with Mayor Aron again soon and I can come back then.”

The other children nodded with smiles.

“Thanks for letting me play with you,” Lucien said and then ran back to his father.

Helion held out a hand to Lucien who took it without hesitation.  He pat Lucien’s hand against his thigh three times and then winnowed back to the palace in Iliosa.

Despite being the middle of Autumn, it was considerably warmer in Iliosa than it had been in Solaville and Lucien shed his cloak immediately.

“What would you like to play?” Helion asked, handing his own cloak off to one of the attendants that greeted them.

“We can’t really have a battle just us,” Lucien pointed out with disappointment.

His father chuckled.  “It’s certainly harder with only two.  However, I could teach you a strategy game.  Would you like to try that?”

Lucien nodded enthusiastically.  “Strategy is good for battle, huh?”

“It’s important to understand the basics,” Helion agreed as he led Lucien to his office.  “Your generals will likely know more than you do, but you need to understand their ideas and modify them as necessary.”

They entered the study and Lucien saw that his father’s desk was a neat collection of paper stacks and books.  His father owned a million books, or thereabouts anyway.  Some of them were on bookcases around the room.  Some were on end tables, and Lucien knew there were even more in his father’s private libraries.

“Go ahead and have a seat,” Helion said, nodding to a surprisingly clean table near the window.  It wasn’t very big, just enough for the two of them to sit opposite each other.

Lucien hurried over and got comfortable in a chair.  His father joined him almost immediately with a checker board and two fine, wooden boxes.  “What’s in the boxes?” Lucien asked eagerly.

Helion set everything down and put one of the boxes in front of Lucien.  “These are the pieces we’re going to play with,” he explained.  “Today I’m going to teach you how to play a game called chess.”

So that is how they passed the afternoon, Helion explaining each piece and its powers on the board to Lucien.  Lucien paid close attention and then they had their first match.  Lucien tried his best, but it didn’t take long for Helion to beat him.  Lucien frowned in frustration.

“This is a hard game,” he complained.

His father smiled patiently at him.  “Would you like to play a different game?”

Lucien thought for a minute and then shook his head.  “I wanna try again,” he asserted.

And so a second match was played.  This time it took a bit longer for Lucien to lose.

“I’m never going to win,” Lucien complained.  “You’re older than me.”

Helion chuckled.  “I have more experience,” he admitted.  “But that’s how you get better, by playing others and learning from them.”

Lucien stared at his pieces on the board for a long hard moment.  “Can you show me how you play?”

“I can tell you how I think about my moves,” Helion offered.  “Do you think that would help?”

Lucien nodded as he began to reset his pieces into their starting positions.  The next match took close to an hour as Helion talked through every move with Lucien – what he was going to do and why.  He made Lucien think about his own moves, asking him why he was choosing a particular move over others.  Lucien even put his father’s king in check once before losing.

He let out a big sigh.  “That was fun!” he said.  “I like learning how to play better.”

“I’m glad,” Helion replied.  “Before you know it, I’m sure you’ll be able to beat me.”

Lucien grinned at that idea.  Then his stomach growled, surprising him, and he laughed.  “Is it dinner time yet?”

His father nodded.  “Let’s put the game away carefully and then we’ll go see what Haze made for dinner.”

Lucien followed his father’s lead in carefully replacing his pieces into the wooden box.  He noticed that had three suns on top, an ancient symbol in the Day Court.  “Are these really old?” he asked curiously.

Helion nodded.  “They were first owned by my great-grandfather many, many centuries ago.”

Lucien almost couldn’t fathom how far in the past that might be.  “Wow,” he replied quietly.  “But the board isn’t that old.”

“No,” Helion agreed.  “This board isn’t even as old as I am, but the pieces are one of family’s most special heirlooms.”

“Thank you for letting me play with them,” Lucien replied, understanding that it was a privilege to play with something so precious.

His father nodded.  “You’re welcome.  Just remember that while they’re sort of toys, they’re toys we have to respect and be careful with.  I trust you to respect them.”

“Yes, Father,” Lucien agreed as he handed his box over.

Helion took both boxes and the game board and put them on one of the bookcases behind his desk.  They’re position was just above Lucien’s head, and he realized that he would probably need to ask his father for permission to play with them in the future – at least until he was a bit taller.

“Now dinner,” Helion announced with a grin.  “I think we’ve worked up quite an appetite!”  He held out a hand to Lucien who happily took it and the two of them headed for the dining room.

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Nightmares to Daydreams

Despite his new life in the Day Court, Lucien is being plagued my memories and nightmares of his childhood in the Autumn Court. Helion has an idea that might help him start to heal. This is the third story in my saga. It follows "How Does She Know?" by only a few days, but you don't have to have read that story to understand what's happening here. It may help if you've read "Last but Not Least". As always, comments greatly appreciated and desired!

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Lucien sat at the desk in his and Elain’s room looking over some reports that his father’s councilors provided on a bi-annual basis.  It was boring work, but it needed doing.  It probably didn’t need doing at two in the morning, though.  He’d awakened early due to nightmares.  Again.  Elain had shaken him out of it and gently kissed away his panic.  He was appreciative of her loving support and made sure to tell her so.  He couldn’t tell her what they were about, though.  It would distress her too much.  So he held her close until she fell asleep again and then he got up to get some work done.

The dreams he couldn’t talk about were about the Autumn Court.  Mostly they were memories of his childhood and adolescence, of dealing with Beron.  Sometimes they would focus on a memory of his mother being beaten, but in those instances he seemed to have some control and changed the memory.  Helion would come charging in and save his mother from the beating.  No one ever saved him from his own beatings.  He chose not to dwell too much on what that might mean for him psychologically.

So he sat there, doing tedious work in the middle of the night until dawn broke outside their window.

He was surprised when he got to the dining room and found Helion already there, perusing the breakfast offerings.  “You’re up early,” Lucien commented.

“I could say the same of you,” Helion replied with a little smile.  

Lucien didn’t know how to respond without being outright deceitful and he had promised himself he wouldn’t lie to his father.  His relationship with Helion would be better, healthier than it had been with Beron – at least from Lucien’s side.  “It was a rough night,” he finally admitted simply.

His father arched an eyebrow.  “You’ve had several rough nights lately.”

“How . . .” Lucien trailed off, not sure whether to feel offended or not that his father knew something so intimate about him.

Helion waved off his concerns.  “I’m not invading your privacy, son.  But you’ve gotten more work done than is reasonable in a very short amount of time.  Granted, I love having the work done, but not at the expense of your sleep.”

“I’ll be alright,” Lucien said in a voice that wasn’t convincing in the slightest.  Even he didn’t believe it.

Helion was quiet for a few minutes as they finished dishing their breakfasts and sat down at the table to eat.  “I could call my healer, Willo, and ask him to give you a tonic for sleep. But knowing him, he’s going to want to know why you’re having trouble sleeping – to give you the right tonic.”

That was tempting but the idea of telling a stranger, even a healer, about his nightmares was appalling.  He really shouldn’t show that kind of weakness to anyone but Elain.  “Thank you, Father, but I think I can manage on my own.”

“Stubborn as your mother,” Helion muttered and when Lucien looked he saw the male smirking good-naturedly.

Something about that phrase kicked Lucien into defensive mode, though.  He didn’t mind being compared to his mother, but whenever people talked about stubbornness that way, it was never a good thing.  He let out a sigh.  “Nightmares, alright?  I’m having nightmares.”

Helion nodded patiently.  “About your mother?” he asked gently.

“Sometimes,” Lucien answered taking an angry bite of bacon.

“About . . .Autumn in general?” Helion guessed, eyebrows high in curiosity.

Lucien deflated at being found out.  “Is it that obvious?” he asked miserably.

Helion chuckled.  “No.  But I know myself pretty well.  I know how I would feel in your situation and I thought maybe you’d react similarly.”

“It’s ridiculous,” Lucien said, letting his frustration show.

“What is?”

“Having nightmares about your childhood.  It can’t be changed.  Why does it plague me?”

Helion was quiet for a few moments.  His jaw clenched and unclenched like he was controlling what he wanted to say or how he wanted to say it.  “Because you were mistreated – fairly significantly it seems.”

Lucien fought the tears that were threatening to fall down his cheeks.  “I survived,” he said in what he knew was a stubborn tone of voice.

“And I’m proud of you for surviving,” Helion said firmly.  “It doesn’t change the fact that it shouldn’t have happened, though.”

“I wasn’t a perfect kid,” Lucien said.  “It’s not like I didn’t earn a few punishments now and then.”

Helion’s jaw clenched again.  “There are other, more creative ways, to punish an errant boy than to beat him.  Moreover, I’ve a feeling you were the target of Beron’s anger even when you’d done nothing to provoke him.”

Lucien just shrugged.

“I should have known,” Helion sighed, shaking his head.  “I should have seen the signs and realized you belonged to me.”

Lucien frowned.  “Father, you couldn’t have known.  We barely saw each other when I was young.  You only came to Autumn when necessary, and I wasn’t exactly welcome in the conversations of High Lords.”

Helion nodded in acquiescence as he took a drink of his juice.  “I still feel responsible.  You might be a full-grown male, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have the desire to protect you.”

“Thanks,” Lucien said with an appreciative smile.

“Maybe you can use that as a meditation before you go to sleep?” Helion suggested.  “Something like. . . ‘My father would never beat me.  He loves me and will protect me.  Beron can’t hurt me anymore.’  What do you think of that?”

Lucien blinked a few times.  “You love me?” he asked, surprise tinging his voice.

Helion let out a short laugh.  “Of course I do!” he said boldly.  “You’re my son.”

“But . . . you’ve only known that for about a month,” Lucien pointed out.  “A month ago, I was just the Night Court’s Emissary.  How can you love me after only a month?”

“This is going to blow your mind, Lucien, and I certainly hope you come to find this true for yourself in time, but I loved you from the day you told me.  I’ve heard of parents instantly loving their children upon their birth, but I’d obviously never experienced anything similar until you came in here and told me I had a son.  Almost as soon as I knew, though, all of these parental instincts and emotions started to kick in.”

Lucien looked at his hands in his lap, not especially interested in breakfast anymore.  “I’ll bet it would have been great to be raised by you,” he guessed.  He felt a little embarrassed to say it, but they were sort of having a moment, and it seemed fair to be honest about his feelings with Helion.

Helion clapped a hand on Lucien’s shoulder and grinned widely.  “I certainly would have tried to give you everything.  Might’ve spoiled you a bit if I’m honest.”

A chuckle escaped from Lucien and he sniffed, realizing he was still holding back tears.

“You know . . .” Helion started slowly.  “There is a spell I know that could. . . repair some of the damage Beron did to you.”

Lucien’s head snapped up.  “There is?”

“It’s not even that complicated when the subject is willing.”

“What does it entail?” Lucien asked urgently.  He would try anything to be rid of his memories around Beron.

Helion smiled.  “It’s a regression spell,” he explained.  “A spell to reverse aging to a specific physical age.”

Lucien furrowed his brows.  “Wait, you want to send me back to childhood?  Father, I appreciate the offer, but I have a mate to look after.”

“It’s not permanent, Lucien,” Helion said with a chuckle.  “We could set if for say . . . a week.  That would be enough time for us to do things together, just the two of us.  You could substitute some good memories with me for some of those disturbing memories of Beron.  And I could get a little taste of what raising you would’ve been like.  I confess I feel cheated too.”

Lucien sat there thinking for awhile.  Helion went back to eating, presumably to take the pressure off Lucien to make a decision quickly.  “What about Elain?” Lucien finally asked.

Helion nodded.  “It would be best if she weren’t around to confuse younger you.  Do you think she would mind visiting her sisters and nephew in the Night Court for a week?”

“If I explain that it will help with the nightmares, she’ll go for as long as is necessary,” Lucien said confidently.  He knew that it pained her to have so little influence over him when it came to the nightmares.  Then he asked a question he was afraid to ask.  Afraid, because he didn’t want to make Helion change his mind.  “Do you think it will matter that Mother won’t be here?”

 Helion didn’t respond right away.  “No,” he finally answered.  “There are any number of reasons why we might be alone.  She could have gone to visit another Court or her family.”

“Alright,” Lucien said, more timidly than he intended.  “I think I’d like to try it.” He didn’t really know what to expect with this spell Helion was going to cast.  He had no idea what he might do as a boy again.  He had no idea how he should behave.  Would the servants think it strange he was regressed?  There were so many unknowns in the equation.  Yet the one thing Lucien kept coming back to was a desire to know his new father better, in the way that a son should know his father.  Elain wanted to have children and was convinced Lucien would make a wonderful father.  The least Lucien could do was try experiencing childhood in a healthy way, to give him something to go on when the time came.

Helion smiled broadly, reassuring in his confidence.  “I’m so glad.  I’ll cast it tonight and alter your room’s furnishings so that you wake up tomorrow as a boy again, complete with everything an eight or nine-year-old might need or want.”

Lucien blushed a little at the idea of being eight or nine again.  Then he nodded and got to his feet.  “I’d better go tell Elain.”  He got to the dining room door and then turned back to his father.  “Thank you.”

Helion smiled at him a nodded once.  “Of course, my son.  I hope this begins the healing process for you and I hope it brings us closer.  Your mother would want that too.”

Lucien smiled as realized that was certainly true.  His mother would have wanted this for him.  It made it easier to proceed and despite a little residual anxiety, he had to admit he was eager for this spell to take place.

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Elain Archeron/Lucien Vanserra Characters: Elain Archeron, Lucien Vanserra, Helion (A Court of Thorns and Roses) Additional Tags: ACOTAR Secret Santa 2023 | Tumblr: acotargiftexchange, Song: That's How You Know Summary:

A Song Fic based on the song "That's How You Know" from Disney's Enchanted, this fic is 4 scenes where Elain gets show by Lucien exactly how much he loves her. This is what comes next after my "Last But Not Least" story and will be followed by more installments of family life for our favorite extended family in Prythian.

This was supposed to be a Christmas gift for @yanny-77

However, I was in a car accident that not only did a number on me, but also torched my laptop just before the holidays.  I lost my entire story I’d been working on.  It’s taken me 6 months, but I finally rewrote the whole thing.  I hope it’s semi worth the wait.

Before you click on the link and dive into this story:

It takes place just after Last But Not Least that I wrote, but you don’t have to have read that to read this.  Also, it’s starts very fluffy and is SUPER Spicy by the end.  Also, while there is a momentary mention of Azris, there are no other pairings actually depicted in this story.  It is 100% Elain/Lucien goodness with some Helion and OCs thrown in to make it more realistic.

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

I love flirty Azriel and I love this art! Thank you, Santa, aka @velidewrites !

Eris hummed. "I'm not exactly in the business of sharing my secrets with pretty shadowsingers."

The corner of Azriel's lip quirked upwards. "Pretty, huh?"

— From an upcoming chapter of Don't Look Back

A surprise little treat for @rainbowdolphinrealm to go along the Acotar Gift Exchange fic! This was my first time writing Azris so I was a bit nervous, and doodling them definitely helped!

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

This is so fantastic! I'm really intrigued to see how they get on or clash! Thank you, thank you @velidewrites for such an amazing gift!

Don’t Look Back

Five hundred years ago, the humans fought hard for their freedom in the Great War and won. Now, their former masters seek retribution in a rebellion that grows stronger year by year. When Elain Archeron finds out marrying Greysen Nolan might be the only solution to keep her family safe from the ancient, cruel Fae, she doesn't hesitate to fulfil her duty. What Elain doesn't know, though, is that the man with the fiery hair and russet eyes is not her fiancé, but his killer—and when she finally finds out, well…it will be far too late to turn back.

Rating: Explicit

Notes: Happy Holidays @rainbowdolphinrealm! I absolutely loved being your Secret Santa for the @acotargiftexchange and getting to know you over the past few weeks! My little elf has told me there may be some Azris angst in the background, and a surprise Azris treat is also sleighing your way soon 👀

Read on AO3 or continue for Chapter 1 below!

*Please note that for reasons beyond my control (insanity) I have given this fic way too much lore. Here is a map I've drawn!

Chapter 1: The Visitor

Elain had never thought she would be dreading the spring. It was the season her gardens bloomed, the season that melted the lakes around the manor to reflect the fluffy clouds dotting the sky above. The flowers she’d planted over the harvest would sprout to life, their sleepy buds erupting into colours Elain would dream of all winter. Two years ago, her father had gifted her the most extraordinary tulips for her birthday, the intricate paintings over the pack of seeds promising shades of violet she’d never seen in New Prythian. He’d brought them right from the fields of the Montesere province far on the Continent with a vow to bring her along on his travels next year—so that she could see their beauty for herself.

Her mother died the spring after.

Father had gone anyway, but Elain—Elain stayed. She had lost all desire to travel, anyway, especially when the circumstances of the death had hardly been expected. The Continent had assured them the Fae rebellion was not a threat to be taken seriously, and that the Governor had everything under control. Out of the eight human clans looking after their world, Lord Nolan had perhaps been the only one Elain would put her trust in. If he claimed the scattered remains of the faeries of old were entirely harmless, then it must have been the truth.

Until a small group of them had broken into the Merchant’s manor and killed his wife in her sleep, with magic so corrupted and vile that not even a speck of blood had left a stain on her sheets. One moment, she was deep in a peaceful slumber, and the next, she was simply…gone.

Everything had happened very quickly after that. Orders had come in from wherever Father had sailed off to, and the manor had been fortified with ash-dipped iron from Vallahan—made by the Forge himself—and spells Father had acquired from his trades with the North. All entirely legal and ratified by the Governor—according to Father, at least. Elain knew better than to ever question the Merchant.

The manor, though fortified to the teeth, had not been enough to keep Elain or either of her sisters safe. The very last order came in with the Merchant himself, a rare smile on their father’s deep-creased face as he announced it to his daughters. Elain had never seen Nesta so horrified as her older sister had been in that moment—pale as the moon, whiter than the sheets their mother had died in. For Nesta Archeron, the eldest daughter of the feared Merchant of New Prythian, was to marry.

Somewhere along his usual search for old faerie artifacts, abandoned over the centuries after the Great War, Father had found his way into an alliance that would secure his territory’s position on the island. With Nesta’s marriage, there would be no Fae slipping past his borders, no other clan opposing him—no human ruler to ever deny him whatever faerie secrets they’d been holding in their keep. It was an alliance that rattled the seas all the way to the Governor’s seat in Rask—perhaps even crooked the crown on his greying head an inch.

Nesta, after all, had been promised to none other than Tomas Mandray. To the son of the Harvester.

Every human territory had a role to play in the new world order—after the Great War, order seemed to be exactly what the humans needed. Their freedom, won by bloodshed and sacrifice, broke them free as slaves of the Fae. Elain still dreamed of the horrid images her governess’s books taught her—of humans in chains, gleaming with white-hot magic, burning spells into their skin that made any chance of escape nearly impossible. Had it not been for the courage of the six ruling queens, all hope would have been lost. Five hundred years later, it would have been Elain in those chains, her sisters, her Father, even the all-powerful Governor. Even the Harvester.

His territory—the dark, somber island of Hybern—was one Elain would never so much as think of travelling to. Pretending the work the Harvester did there did not exist made everyone’s lives a lot easier. While the Merchant dealt with old Fae artifacts and traded them across borders, the Harvester’s work involved a lot more of getting one’s hands dirty. Enchanted faerie objects, after all, were not the only things believed to have valuable properties. High Fae hearts, for example, promised a long life, untainted by illness.

And the Harvester…well, the Harvester delivered them. Amongst many others.

The marriage had taken place shortly after the summer, and neither Elain nor her father had been invited to witness the nuptials. She had simply watched the ship sail off West as she lost yet another sister.

She would not think about that right now—not when spring had finally arrived again. Soon, her tulips would bloom again, flecks of pinks and violets shining softly under the young, shy rays of sunlight. Elain would not be there to witness it—right after Nesta’s marriage, Father had left for the Continent again, and this time, Elain expected the order.

She was to be married next.

My dearest Elain,

It is with a full heart that I bring you the joyous news of our latest triumph. I have successfully docked in Saetre, and the Governor has received me warmly—as expected. As I’m sure you have already guessed, he was most pleased with the offerings I have bestowed him. You’ve seen them yourself—the old Illyrian dagger seems to be his favourite as of right now, though I have not yet even shown him the rest of the treasure I have acquired from the Wildlands. I can already imagine his eyes light up as I hand him the pair of wings your sister had sent in from Hybern. I shall convince him to display it right above his throne, I think—a testament to Nesta’s success.

Our deliberations commenced shortly after dinner—a roast turkey and the most exquisite stew, if you’re interested. I have already sent a footman along with a separate letter containing the recipe—so that you may have the maid try it out in the weeks before my return. Winters in Rask are quite unforgivable, and I must admit a hearty meal like this was exactly what I needed. Rask rears its own livestock, you know—an impressive one, too, if I do say so myself. To not be dependent on Braemar for your dinner plans—imagine that! I am growing quite tired of the Huntsman raising his prices every harvest. Ridiculous.

Anyway, I digress. Rask has consumed my attention entirely, as I’m sure you can tell. I am confident you would enjoy it here, too. Winters are rough, yes—but I remember how much you’ve always wanted to visit the provinces in the West. Just imagine your beloved tulip fields, illuminated by golden sunlight—imagine being able to see them at your whim. What a life that would be, would it not?

My sweet Elain, I am writing to tell you that it could be. You know how dear our family has always been to me—but you, my beautiful daughter, have always been closest to my ageing heart. It is precisely why I had devoted all my efforts, all my resources, into this agreement. Elain, it is one for the pages of history. A union like no other.

You see, the Governor—Lord Nolan, our very ruler himself—was so impressed with your dowry, and concerned with the fate of our family in the past year—that he had offered his son, nay, his heir, as a candidate worthy of your hand. Your hand in marriage, Elain.

Indeed, the past year has brought our family hardship unlike ever before. I do mourn your mother still, and the loss of our young Feyre continues to be a fresh wound in my heart. It is only fair we honour them, would you not agree? Your sister, your brave, headstrong sister, has already taken that first step—and look how happy she is with the Harvester’s son. She holds power like no other human in our family ever had—right now, she is perhaps the most powerful woman in Prythian. Perhaps even more than the Siren herself. Elain, with your beauty, your grace, your heart—you could outshine them both.

I am sure you were too young to remember meeting Greysen Nolan—you were only five, after all, and he only twelve—but he has grown into a fine young man, and as heir to the Governor, he is the most eligible bachelor our world has to offer. A fine marriage like this would give us the protection we need—New Prythian would never have to deal with faerie filth again. Our people would be safe, Elain—and all because of you. My beautiful Princess.

I do hope this news brings some comfort to your healing heart. Lord Nolan has bestowed his son with a title prior to your official engagement. The Visitor, as your fiancé is now called, has taken on the role of supervising all clans and their work—of ensuring their role in our world guarantees our continued survival amid the growing rebellions in Old Prythian and Vallahan. Elain, as wife to the Visitor, your dream will finally come true—you shall accompany him on all his travels, see the world as you’ve always wished! It brings me joy to know I have assured you that fate.

I am to remain in Rask until the snow melts. The Visitor and I shall set sail for home with the coming of spring, and we shall host a celebration in your honour. An engagement ball envied in the eyes of any other young lady in Prythian, New and Old!

I am told Greysen (is it too soon to address him as such, do you think? He is to be my son-in-law) enjoys roses the most. Perhaps you could show some thought and consideration and embroider a pattern on your ball gown? I trust that this letter gives you enough time in advance. You’ve always been so skilled at crafts and other projects of creative character.

Be safe, my sweet Elain. Better times are coming—and sooner than you think!

With love,

The Merchant

Elain discarded the letter on her nightstand, thinking she might puke if she so much as tried glancing upon it again. From the neat, elegant cursive to the tone of the very words, the message reeked of her Father—of the Merchant . There were so many things wrong with its contents that the anger she’d been stifling in the pit of her stomach for the past few weeks had bubbled all over again, threatening to burn its way up her throat. Elain had never been any good at art—that was Feyre, the Merchant’s other daughter the Fae had only taken a few months ago. Taken and never returned. She was likely dead, her body discarded somewhere in the Wildlands. And Father didn’t even care.

He didn’t care that it was him Elain had always wanted to travel with, not Greysen Nolan, not anyone else. He’d promised to bring her along, at least once. Now, it was too late. He would lose his final daughter—for the safety of New Prythian. Naturally.

A new wave of guilt crashed into her with a sudden force, killing the fire inside her with little effort. She didn’t want the marriage, that much was true—but, her father’s personal agenda or not, the Fae rebellion was as real as the Visitor, no doubt already sailing her way. The Fae, though very few in number thanks to the work of the human clans, still posed a very real threat—her mother and sister were the prime example of how dangerous those creatures were. Five hundred years ago, they’d nearly won the War—had nearly rid the world of all humans and enslaved whoever remained. Until the humans turned their own magic against them—and took their freedom back. They have continued to preserve it ever since.

The clans of Old Prythian had always been successful in dwindling the numbers of whoever remained—the Fae, in all their mighty immortality, could hold out for centuries, using their magic to roam the lands in secret. Three hundred years ago, most of them had been pushed far north to the Wildlands, old faerie territories Elain had read about in her studies. There was little information on the former Solar Courts and their rulers—other than that the most powerful of them had a history of cruelty that could make the Harvester himself flinch in horror. Some part of her was glad the territory had been reduced to rubble—that, at the very least, the humans’ ancient killers could no longer rely on their fortresses to lock them all up.

She had seen the Huntsman’s reports on recent rebel activity in Braemar, though. The faeries may have been few, yes, but those foolish enough to crawl out of the Wildlands caused problems that would usually send shivers down Elain’s spine. The Huntsman’s own daughter, stationed in the North under the Guardian’s protection, had been slaughtered no more than six years ago when their outpost was attacked. Father had told her stories of fresh, crimson blood, gleaming on the thick, white coat of snow.

For what had to have been the hundredth time in the past few weeks, Elain debated that perhaps, an alliance with the Governor’s son would not be such a terrible thing. She may not have known him—let alone harboured any affection for him—but their marriage would strengthen the clans. If she married Greysen, perhaps no one else’s daughters would be slaughtered, no one else’s mothers killed in their sleep or sisters hunted in the forests surrounding their own homes. Elain could protect them—in whatever way she could.

Either way, she had no choice.

***

The forest rippled with the sound of teeth tearing into flesh. Over the centuries, they had grown longer— sharper , which was just as well. He needed as much protection as he could get these days, especially with weapons so difficult to come by. The camp was already growing unsettled, and he could feel the tension weighing on the air whenever he returned. The past few winters had been difficult enough.

The coming of spring was a welcome change. Spring meant they could hunt—the new year brought on as many animals as it had opportunities. The prey in his arms, grasped by the claws he’d sunk deep into its skin, just so happened to be both.

And what an opportunity it was. They’d been wishing for it for decades—centuries, even, or perhaps even more. Like many others, he found himself losing count of the passing years. They all seemed the same—eat, sleep, move, hide. Kill had only recently started to disrupt his routine. Yet another change he welcomed.

He spat out the blood, nose wrinkling with distaste as if on instinct, and watched as the liquid settled into the mossy earth. The body fell to the ground a moment after, leaving a heavy thud in its wake, heavy enough that he could have sworn it echoed between the trees. He would get an earful for not being careful later. The thought made his eyes roll as he wiped his nails clean on his crumpled shirt.

He pulled it over his arms, then, letting the fabric float away with the gentle spring breeze, and took a deep, steadying breath. The small, golden rays of sunlight peering through the budding leaves warmed his bare chest, and he tilted his head up to the sky, soaking up the sensation until the quiet gurgle at his feet inevitably commanded the return of his attention.

He sighed, kicking away the arm resting on his boot. The body rolled to the side, baring the unpleasant face to his sight yet again. For what must have been the fourth time in the past two minutes, he felt himself grimace. Something so ugly should not have been this finely dressed.

This, however, was a problem he could easily take care of. Holding his breath to avoid the stench of his prey’s spilling guts, he kneeled to free it from the immaculate, navy-blue jacket, dark, charcoal trousers and boots before its blood managed to stain them. The formerly pristine shirt was unfortunately already lost to him, though he supposed his own would do just fine.

For a split second, he wondered if the body should be buried. It would take little effort on his part, and he knew it had been travelling with a party before trailing off the carriage path to piss. It would be best to not leave any evidence behind, lest any of the man’s companions decided to follow their master and look for relief in the forest as well.

He sighed again, a sound he feared was starting to become a signature of his lately. With a flick of his hand, the dirt rustled quietly, and the ground parted, swallowing the body entirely.

Good. This was good. He only wished he’d taken a good look at the man’s face before letting the worms dig into the body he’d so benevolently left open for them. He needed the memory unscathed for the spell, and right now, he could not for the life of him remember the colour of his prey’s eyes. Oh, well.

He got dressed quickly, finding the fabric a little too tight in the shoulders. Come to think of it, the trousers also seemed to be a tight fit, his thighs unusually restrained by the silken threads. He would have to walk more slowly, he supposed. Ripping his seams open in front of dozens of humans was hardly the surprise he’d spent the past two months carefully devising.

Rising to his full height, he closed his eyes then as though for concentration. The tingling on his skin was hardly pleasant, but he endured it all the same until the memory in his mind finally faded away. There was no stream nearby to look over his reflection, but he knew the glamour had worked, anyway. It always did.

To those who knew the man he’d just murdered, he would appear as Greysen Nolan—the newly titled Visitor, hell, the Governor’s own firstborn son. He couldn’t help but smirk.

It seemed that Daddy was in for one hell of a disappointment.

***

Elain could not breathe in her gown.

“Just a few more minutes, Princess,” the seamstress repeated, the sound muffled through the needle she’d clenched between her teeth.

The nickname did little to ease her nerves. The Princess was hardly her official title, but her father insisted the staff—that everyone in New Prythian called his one remaining daughter as such. She used to adore it as a little girl, though upon further reflection, she had no doubt she’d earned a few spoiled brat ’s in those years. Still, the name seemed to have stuck, and, as she always did, Elain felt her cheeks flush furiously in response.

“I’m not a princess, Lavinia,” she reminded the seamstress, trying her best not to make her tone sound too pointed.

The woman scoffed. “You might as well be, Lady Archeron. The Visitor is a titled man, and if that wasn’t enough, he is the Governor’s heir.” She adjusted the ribbons adorning Elain’s sleeve. “Our royalty may be long gone, but everyone knows the throne resides at Rask.”

Elain hummed. “There is a reason we are no longer ruled by six queens. To anoint a new monarchy would be to dishonour their sacrifice.”

The seamstress scrambled quickly, “Of course, Lady Archeron. I only meant—the Governor holds a lot of power in the realm.”

Elain sighed and looked into the mirror. “I suppose that much is true.”

“You don’t seem very excited,” Lavinia remarked, meeting Elain’s gaze in her reflection. “Surely the Visitor is an excellent match?”

“Certainly,” Elain nodded. But excellent was not someone Elain was looking for. She wasn’t looking for anyone, truthfully, and yet here she stood, watching Lavinia touch up her gown for the final time before her engagement ball was to commence. “This is good, I think. You’ve done a wonderful job—as always.”

The seamstress offered her a smile. “Try to be happy, Princess.”

“Of course,” Elain lied.

It was clear enough that Lavinia had left her alone, quietly excusing herself out of the room. Elain could hear her mutter instructions to the guards at her door—she was to be escorted downstairs, whenever she was ready. Apparently, guests had already begun pouring in, and the Visitor was to make his grand entrance shortly.

Elain hadn’t even seen Father yet. Wherever he was, he clearly would make his appearance once the public had gathered in full.

It was to be expected, but Elain felt her heart sink nonetheless. She could use a few words of encouragement right now. Usually, it had been Feyre offering them without Elain even having to ask. But Feyre was gone. Had been gone for a while.

And she wasn’t coming back.

Exhaling shakily, Elain looked into her own eyes in the mirror, ignoring the tear welling up in one corner, her expression stern.

“You’re doing this for them ,” she told herself. “For Feyre, and for Mother, and for Nesta, so that no one else has to suffer like they had.”

Her reflection nodded, the pearls in her ears sparkling with the movement. She breathed out again, one last time, and braced herself for the three quiet knocks on her door.

“It’s time, Princess,” the order sounded shortly after. Elain, of course, obeyed.

The gown was a pain to walk in. It was beautiful, to be sure—she hadn’t lied when she’d complimented Lavinia’s work—though that hardly made it a comfortable garment to wear. Elain appreciated the way the corset hugged her curves, or the way it perked up her breasts, but she also appreciated being able to take a breath without immediately choking on it. She had never squeezed into a dress so impossibly tight. The flowers—roses—crafted by the ruffles of tulle rested attached at her hips, the ribbons of her sleeves caressing them as Elain made her way down the hall. The gown spilled down her body in petals of ivory and a dusty pink, making Elain herself look like a blossoming rose, floating with every step.

She almost enjoyed the thought until she remembered Father’s letter once again—until she remembered Greysen Nolan’s favourite flowers were, in fact, roses, and the gown’s very design served to appeal to his tastes instead of her own.

Had it not been for the guard’s heavy boots sounding behind her, Elain would have entertained the idea of turning back. Would Father drag her downstairs himself? Would he lock her up in Greysen’s carriage and ship her off without second thought? Elain had never once thought her own engagement ceremony would ever feel like an execution. And yet, here she was, followed closely by the Merchant’s personal guard, dressed up like a doll for a man she didn’t even know.

The somber thought accompanied her down the marble steps spiralling down to the ballroom, consuming her so thoroughly she could hardly feel the countless stares watching her every more. Father must have invited more people than she’d thought—dignitaries from all over the island, perhaps even the Continent itself.

Perhaps her seamstress was right—perhaps Rask was the closest they could get to royalty, and Elain truly could not have found a more advantageous match. She also could not have married at all.

But then she met her father’s gaze, and the guilt hit her with a familiarity that nearly swayed her off the stairs.

His eyes—brown, exactly the shade of her own—were shining with pride so unabashed she could not help but smile in his direction. She was doing all of this for him, too was she not? For her family—so that they may never see misfortune again. Nesta had been strong enough to proceed with her own match. Why should Elain be any different? She could do this—otherwise, watching that pride dim from her father’s gaze might just be the thing that killed her.

Slowly, she made her way up the dais to meet his extended hand. Behind them, two high chairs she supposed had been made to resemble thrones sat waiting for the Lord and Lady to be. Elain’s heart quickened in the constraints of her corset.

“This is real, Elain,” Father murmured over her shoulder, as though he could hear how loudly her heart thumped in her chest. If he did, he’d grossly misinterpreted the reason behind it. “This is truly happening.”

Elain swallowed something thick in her throat, and forced another smile as she turned to face him at last. “I know, Father.”

The white of his teeth nearly outmatched the chandeliers above. “You look absolutely spectacular,” he complimented, his smile wider as he noted the tulle roses. “Are you ready to meet your husband?”

She supposed there was no turning back now.

Father nodded to the guards. “Invite the Visitor in.”

Every single head in the ballroom turned as two, white-gloved hands turned the golden, ornate knobs and swung the doors open.

Elain held her breath—then counted to three. Four. Five.

On seven, he entered.

She’d spotted his jacket first—a deep navy-blue adorned with fine, silken thread. Fitted, charcoal trousers and boots, echoing quietly off the marble floor as the Visitor finally stepped into the light.

Elain’s breath caught in her throat.

He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

His long hair was like molten fire, a stark contrast against the depth of his jacket. Shades of red, auburn and orange, falling down his back in waves as the firelight danced on his golden brown skin—almost like greeting an old friend. There was something raw about his beauty—he was hardly one of the perfect, polished aristocrats she’d danced with at other balls. No, there was a cruelty about him—as if he’d been crafted by the same flame that gleamed playfully atop the chandeliers warming her skin, melting every guard she’d ensured to build up, every reason she could think of that made him the worst fate the world had in store for her.

Elain could have sworn that fire sizzled in his russet eyes as he reached the dais—as he stopped before her and bowed at the waist.

When he looked up again, their gazes locked and held. “It is an honour to make your acquaintance, Lady Archeron,” he greeted, his voice smooth and deep. “My name is Greysen Nolan.”

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Ho ho ho from your Secret Santa!!

I’m so happy to finally stop stressing over accidentally forgetting to press the anon button 🤣 Before I put up your fic, I just wanted to share a tiny little moodboard I made to give you a sense of the upcoming vibes!

It’s been so much fun being your Santa and I’m so honoured to have you as my giftee and welcome you into the fandom! You’re such a talented writer, I can’t wait to (FINALLY) be able to swoon over your fics now that I don’t have to keep my identity secret 👀

Merry Christmas!! 💕

Awe, thank you! And thanks for the welcome! I look forward to following you as well!

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Ho ho ho!

We are so close to the big reveal! I can’t wait to finally be able to say hi to you off anon! It’s been so much fun getting to know you over the past few weeks🎄🎅 My hand may have slipped and written a multichapter, so I’m going to post chapter 1 tomorrow along with a little treat and update regularly from there!

Do you have anything fun planned for the holidays? I hope you have a wonderful Sunday ahead!

Oh my goodness, I'm so excited! We're going to see my husband's family in California. Nothing else is on the docket, but who knows what will spontaneously come up! You? Travel, special events?

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Santa here! Happy to report your gift is now in the works at full speed. My little elves told me they’re brewing a very special canon-divergent AU with a dash of reluctant allies to lovers, a sprinkle of Azris, and a little bit of steam, if you know what I mean;)

I am so flipping excited!

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

After driving across multiple states and listening to A Court of Frost and Starlight for 7 of those hours, I found myself wondering what our fave couples would be like as parents on a road trip.

Feysand: Rhys is ridiculously patient with the "Are we there yet?" queries. Feyre is armed to the teeth with snacks and coloring activities to keep little ones occupied. Nyx loves watching the world go by and asking questions about everything he sees.

Nessian: Cassian's kids are bookish until it gets dark and then they need something playing on the DVD/BluRay to keep their attention

Elucien: This is a family that sings in the car together.

Azris: one of their kids is prone to motion sickness but those daddies are super patient and understanding, taking frequent stops as needed

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Ho ho ho! Thank you so much for answering my (MANY) questions! I can't wait to get started on your fic - I just have one more query to complete my list (last one I PROMISE). Would you prefer your story to be Naughty or Nice? ;) It's completely up to you - if you like to see smut in your reads sometimes, I'll be more than happy to incorporate it!

I gave it some thought and I think I'd like a little bit naughty for this fic. 😁 One of the best parts of this fandom is the naughty bits! Thank you so much!

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Driving to New Mexico from California. Here's what I'm listening to (obviously ACOFAS first)

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Hello hello!

It’s your Secret Santa sliding (sleighing?) into your askbox once again! Loved your headcanons - I 100% subscribe to them as well. I’ve been brainstorming some ideas for your fic and these definitely helped 👀

Still, I’d love to get a better sense of what you like! What are your favourite books, other than ACOTAR? Movies? Or shows? Also, I’ve gotta know all about your favourite tropes - the classic enemies to lovers, perhaps? Or maybe they’re reluctant allies who fall in love down the line? One-sided pining, angst, fluff? Any tropes you would absolutely hate to see in your fic? I’m all ears!

Hi Santa!

Reading wise, I'm a big Dragonriders of Pern fan, Hunger Games, anything by Rick Riordan, and anything by Patricia Wrede. Movies? The list is so long, LOL, but highlights are Star Wars, LOTR, Star Trek, Marvel, and musicals! Man I love musicals! We haven't had cable or satellite in forever so TV is either old or what I can find streaming - Dr. Who, Star Trek (any), Supernatural, Bones, and Walking Dead. My feelings about Harry Potter are complicated so I've been avoiding it lately.

I like reluctant allies to lovers (which is probably why I like Azris), angst is good as long as there's a happy resolution. I also like it when something is against societal norms or expectations but the protagonists do it anyway (If Mor doesn't get a love interest at some point there is no justice in Prythian). I honestly can't think of a trope I hate. Even if it's "overdone" it could still be great if written well. Ooh! I know what I don't like - gratuitous cursing. Cursing that is purposeful and situationally appropriate is fine, but F-bombs for the sake of F-bombs turns me off a fic pretty fast.

Let me know if I should elaborate or if you have any other questions!

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Today is National Coming Out Day. If you don't have a support system you know is safe, this event can be terrifying. I am grateful I had an amazing partner to make own experience a positive one. While I celebrated my coming out 13 years ago, I want to use this opportunity to let others know I am a safe person to come out to. I will support you and celebrate you today and always.

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Last But Not Least Part 4

A/N:  Thank you for all the likes and kudos on the first three parts of this story.  I promise you can leave comments. I don’t bite, and it gives me an idea of what you all like reading and what you’re more meh about.  I know, I know, I’m supposed to write for me, but still.

Final question: Do you all want a spicy final chapter where Lucien and Elain consummate the bond or is that unnecessary?

************************************************************************

Lucien winnowed to the front steps of the River House and practically winnowed on top of Elain.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, clearly startled.

Lucien laughed as he dodged to miss her.  “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be waiting out front.”

Elain blushed a little.  “I’ve been a little anxious for your return,” she confessed.

“Please tell me you let yourself sleep,” he replied as he took her hand, pulled her closer and kissed her cheek.

“A little.”  She was wearing a flowing, Marigold dress with short, flowing sleeves to match the skirt’s movement.  She looked like a perfect transition from summer to fall.  Or maybe she was going for the golden sunshine of the Day Court.  Either way, she looked beautiful and her hair swept gently up on one side, pinned with a lapis lazuli comb, matched by her earrings and necklace made the whole look complete.  She turned and led him back into the house by the hand. “Are you hungry?”

Lucien smiled at how eager and comfortable she seemed with him now. “I saved my appetite to have breakfast with you.”

Elain looked back over her shoulder and smiled at him.  “Feyre, Rhys, Nyx, and Mor are eating too.  It won’t be a private breakfast.”

“That’s alright,” Lucien agreed with a shrug.  “Does Mor usually come for breakfast?”  He wasn’t entirely sure if she lived in the River House or maintained the old townhouse as her residence.

“Usually,” Elain replied.  “And sometimes Azriel comes for breakfast, but he usually eats with Cassian and Nesta at the House of Winds.”

“Hmm. . .” Lucien mused on that bit of information.

Elain quirked an eyebrow at him.  “What?”

Lucien shrugged again.  “Just wondering if Azriel will be breakfasting with Eris in Autumn now that Beron’s gone.”

Elain stopped short as they entered the dining room.  “Oh.  I suppose that might change things.”

“I’m still not sure if I’m going to need a new Spymaster,” Rhys said from the table, bouncing Nyx on one knee.

“I’m sure Az will find a way to serve both courts,” Feyre said confidently as she ate a piece of crispy bacon.

Lucien wasn’t so sure of that.  He knew from personal experience that it was hard to serve two masters.  Tamlin had made it easy to choose, though.  For the longest time Lucien thought Tamlin was like a true brother.  Time away, however, opened Lucien’s eyes and he was able to see how Tamlin was just as bad as his more contentious brothers had been, his abuse was just more subtle. He conditioned Lucien to think it was normal and acceptable to be treated with that level of disrespect. Lucien wondered if Tamiln would have treated him similarly if he’d known Lucien was Helion’s sole offspring instead of a mere seventh son.

“So you two are off to Day this morning?” Rhys asked as Lucien and Elain took their seats.

Lucien nodded.  “Mother would want me to deliver the news of her passing in person,” he said, the ache of her loss weighing on him.

“Are you going to tell him what he is to you?” Rhys continued.  “Or save that for another visit.”

Lucien sighed as he selected a pastry from the tray Elain passed him.  “I keep going back and forth on that,” he admitted.  “On one hand, I think I’d want to know if I had a son-”

“Agreed,” Rhys interjected, shifting Nyx a little bit on his lap..

“-but is that too much information all at once?” Lucien finished. He’d been having this debate with himself all night.  To be honest, he was a little afraid of telling Helion he was the male’s son.  What if Helion was disappointed that Lucien wasn’t a more impressive male - like Tamlin or Rhys or Tarquin.  Lucien didn’t think he exactly screamed heir of a High Lord.

“He’d want to know everything,” Mor said confidently before taking a swig from her juice glass.  “Trust me.”

Lucien knew that Helion and Mor were reasonably close - close enough that Mor probably knew what she was talking about.

“I think Mor’s right,” Elain said slowly, an unusual lilt to her voice.

Feyre raised an eyebrow.  “Have you seen something about it?” she asked.

Elain shook her head.  “No . . .but it’s a feeling.  A strong feeling.”

“Seeing isn’t always a vision,” Mor put in.  “Sometimes it’s just special knowledge or unexplainable intuition.”

Lucien looked at his mate and gave her a hopeful expression.  “You’re still willing to go with me?”

Elain smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.  “Yes,” she said simply.  “You’re mine and I’m yours.  We share our trials from here on out.  I’m happy to go to the Day Court with you.”

“Does this mean you ate the roast chicken last night?” Rhys asked Lucien slowly, an eyebrow raised in query.

Lucien grinned at Elain before turning back to Rhys and nodded.  “It was fantastic.”

Feyre’s grin was luminous.  “Oh I’m so happy for you!” she exclaimed.  “For both of you!”  Nyx squealed happily, echoing his mother’s enthusiasm.

“Are you excited to get an Uncle Lucien?” Rhys asked him, bouncing the baby a little more emphatically.

Lucien was caught off guard by that for a moment.  It was true.�� Feyre was Elain’s sister.  Elain was already an aunt.  That meant he would be Nyx’s uncle when they got married.  He wondered if they could take the little guy out on occasion, let Lucien practice a bit before diving into parenthood himself.  He was so nervous about the prospect that it made his stomach twist into anxious knots.

“I don’t know if Uncle Lucien is ready,” Mor observed, gently chiding him with a grin.

Lucien chuckled at himself.  “Hey, uncles get to be playmates, right?  I think I can handle that.”

Elain beamed at him.  Apparently that had been an acceptable answer.

Rhys used the rest of breakfast to get an update on the Hewn City from Mor.  Lucien was grateful he didn’t need to go to that city as part of the Night Court.  Even though he knew now that the inner court’s nightmarish reputation was a facad, he still didn’t particularly like witnessing it.  It was too reminiscent of Amarantha’s court.  

He managed to supress his nerves about the Day Court enough to eat a couple of pastries, some fruit, and a hard-boiled egg.  

As they all began to adjourn for their days, Feyre hurried around the table and gave Lucien a tight hug. “I really am excited for you,” she said and then pulled Elain in for a tight embrace as well.  She turned back to Lucien.  “Do you want to keep your apartment in the city?  There’s plenty of space in the residential wing for you to have a room here.”

Lucien wasn’t entirely sure.  On one hand he was accustomed to living in the High Lord’s residence.  Living with his High Lord and High Lady seemed natural.  It would also let him be close to Elain.  On the other hand, maybe Elain wasn’t ready for that level of closeness yet.  She was excited about this level of courtship, but sleeping a few yards away from each other might be a little much.  “Let me consider it?” he asked his friend.

“Of course,” she promised with an affectionate smile.  “Take your time.”

“Feyre, I have a meeting with the palace governors,” Rhys said, bringing Nyx over to her.  “Do you have him?”

Feyre took Nyx slowly from Rhys, lookingstartled as if she just realized something. “I’m teaching a class this morning,” she said slowly as she turned to Elain.

“Oh dear,” Elain replied.  “I’m sorry, Feyre, I didn’t think.”

Feyre shook her head confidently.  “It’s fine,” she assured them all.  “I’ll put him in a sling and take him with me.  He likes to splash in the finger paints anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Elain asked, looking a little nervous, shifting her gaze from Feyre to Lucien.  “Maybe we could go this afternoon?” she suggested hopefully.

Lucien nodded.  “If that would make things easier,” he agreed.

“What would be easier is if my darling mate would let us get a caregiver for Nyx for occasions like this,” Rhys said as he made to leave the dining room.

“We’ve had this argument,” Feyre countered with a scowl.  “I’m not handing my baby off to a nanny.”

Rhys sauntered through the doorway with a parting shot.  “And we’ll keep having this debate until you give in or Nyx is old enough to look after himself.”

Elain grimaced a bit as Feyre stared daggers at the back of Rhys’s retreating head.  He laughed, clearly amused by whatever she’d said down their bond.  Lucien felt as awkward as Elain looked.

Mor strode forward and took Nyx out of Feyre’s arms.  “Don’t worry, Elain.  I’m free this morning.  I’ll watch him while Feyre goes to teach.”  She gently tossed him in the air, just above her head and he shrieked with laughter, his little wings flapping wildly, clearly trying to keep himself aloft.

“Is he ready to fly already?” Lucien asked in surprise.

“No,” Feyre replied with a grin at her son.  “Thank The Cauldron.  But Rhys says it’s instinctual for him to try if he’s free-falling like that.”

Lucien silently thanked The Mother than he and Elain might have to worry about their children winnowing all over Prythian, but they would never be toddlers learning to fly as well as learning to walk.  Elain gave him an expression that suggested she might be having a similar sentiment.

“Are you ready to go, then?” Lucien asked, holding out a hand to Elain.

Elain smiled and nodded, placing her hand in his.  “I’ve never been to the Day Court.  This will be exciting!”

Lucien chuckled.  “It’s certainly a beautiful court,” he assured her.

“Good luck you two,” Feyre said as they all made their way to the foyer.  “Should we expect you for dinner?”

Lucien had no idea how long the visit with Helion would take.  It could feasibly run overnight depending on how Helion took the news.  He exchanged a glance with Elain and then shook his head.  “Probably not,” he said.  “If we get back in time for dinner, I’ll take her out somewhere in the city.”

Feyre nodded as she pulled on a sweater at the front door.  “At the very least we’ll see you in Autumn for the celebration of your mother.”

“Yes,” Lucien agreed tightly.  The joy he felt at having Elain accept their bond was generally serving to override the crushing sorrow of losing his mother.  Every time it came up, though, it was like the wound was fresh and new again.

Elain squeezed his hand, and he also felt her extend herself down the mating bond to him.  It was like being hugged from the inside.

Feyre nodded and smiled sympathetically at him before turning her attention to Nyx, squirming in Mor’s arms.  “Be good for Auntie Mor,” she crooned to him with a smile and a wave.

Mor made Nyx wave back before Lucien, Elain, and Feyre headed out onto the front steps.

“Thanks for breakfast, Feyre,” Lucien said, thinking it was only polite since he’d sort of crashed their usual routine.

She laughed.  “Don’t think twice about it.  You’re family, Lucien.  Always have been.  You’re welcome to breakfast anytime.”

With that she gave them a wave and then winnowed away, presumably to her shop where she taught art classes a couple of times a week.

Elain smiled up at him.  “You ready?”

He nodded.  “Here we go.”  He took a deep breath and winnowed them both through the world to the outside of Helion’s palace in the Day Court.

As soon as they stepped onto the grounds, one of the Day Court guards came hustling towards them.  “Lord Lucien,” he said.  “We were not expecting you.”

Lucien nodded.  “I apologize for the surprise visit, but something’s happened Helion should know about as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” the guard agreed with a nod.  “I’ll send word ahead that you and . . .”

“Elain Archeron,” Lucien supplied.

The name was, of course, familiar to the guard, but he clearly didn’t have a face to put to the name.  His eyes widened a bit in awe and surprise.  “That you are both here,” he finished.

“Thank you,” Lucien said with a nod of thanks to the guard.  With that, he offered Elain his arm and he began to lead her up the front stairs into Helion’s palace.

“This is much more a palace, than I’ve seen in Prythian,” Elain whispered as they climbed the 100 or so steps to the main entrance of the palace.

Lucien smiled.  “Just like the Moonstone Palace gives amazing views of the night sky in the Night Court, the Day Court palace is built high above the surrounding area to provide unhinedered views all day long.

Elain smiled.  “How far can you see from one of those balconies?” she asked, nodding towards one of the balconies that overcooked the approach to the palace.

“Several miles,” Lucien explained.  “Especially on a clear day.”

Elain frowned.  “If this is the Day Court then are all days clear and perfect?”

Lucien smiled.  “You would think so,” he admitted, “but no.  They still need rain on occasion for their crops to grow.  Otherwise it would be a desert.  But on days when it does rain, it’s brief, and the day shines almost brighter after it’s through.”

“I’d like to see that,” Elain said wistfully.

“Lucien!  Elain! What brings you here so early?” Helion’s voice boomed down to them from the top of the steps.  Lucien knew Helion well enough to hear the tinge of worry in the High Lord’s voice.  Afterall, it wasn’t normal for Lucien to pay a diplomatic visit so early or without sending word ahead of his visit.  Helion was clad in his usual Day Court attire, trimmed with gold fabric, but he seemed to have forgone the High Lord’s crown.

“Good morning, Helion,” Lucien said as they reached the top.  “I come with sad news.”

Helion’s expression turned dark.  “Sad?  What has happened?”

Lucien took a nervous breath in.  “Maybe we should discuss this in private,” and his eyes flicked to the guards on either side of the palace entrance.

Helion clearly understood Lucien’s meaning and nodded.  “Come,” he encouraged, and motioned for them to follow.  “We’ll go to my living quarters.”

“Are you doing anything special for the Equinox?” Lucien asked casually as they made their way to the back of the palace where Helion’s private residence was located.  Lucien had dined in the informal dining room with Helion on occasion while serving as an Emissary for Tamlin and knew the more intimate setting was a better place to break the news about his mother to Helion.

“We’ll have a feast,” Helion replied and then turned to Elain.  “It may be Autumn’s special holiday, but we have the better gourds to serve.”

Lucien chuckled.  “It’s true,” he admitted to Elain behind him.  “You need a good summer to grow the best gourds and Autumn just doesn’t have that.”

Elain smiled.  “We had gourds south of the wall sometimes,” she recalled.  “But I’m sure they are so much better here.”

Helion smiled appreciatviely at her as he opened a set of double doors and led them into a large sitting room.  Lucien strode to the center of the seating area, gripping Elain firmly.  He realized it might have been too tight and released her just a little.  She squeezed his hand, though, reassuring him that she was there for him.  He had no idea how he would have done things without her.

“What’s the trouble, Lucien,” Helion asked in his more natural, less theatric tone. He strode to a small wetbar near the room’s big picture window and held up a container of what was probably bourbon.

Lucien considered the offer.  “Not . . .not at the moment,” he stuttered a little.

Helion put the glass container back down and frowned at Lucien.  “I’ve never seen you so . . .unhinged.  Tell me what’s happened.”

Lucien looked down at Elain for reassurance again.  She gave him a soft smile and nodded.  He took a deep breath and turned back to his father.  “My mother,” he said slowly.  “Beron killed her yesterday.”

Rage filled Helion’s eyes.  “He what?”  His voice was deathly calm, but Lucien had no doubt his blood was boiling and his power straining to be let loose.

“He finally beat her so bad it couldn’t be healed,” Lucien explained, trying in vain to will his voice to be steady.  “My brothers and I avenged her yesterday afternoon.  Eris is now the High Lord.”

Elain clasped her other hand around Lucien’s as well.

Helion was silent for a long moment.  “Why did you feel the need to come and tell me?” he finally asked.

“Because . . .” Lucien started and then shut his eyes in a frustrated grimmace.  “Because of what my mother told me before she died.”

Helion raised a single eyebrow in query.

Lucien sighed and continued.  “She said that you and her were in love, that’d you’d been able to see each other occasionally while she was married to Beron.”

“That’s true,” Helion replied slowly with an equally slow nod.

“She wanted me to know because she wanted me to tell you that she loved you and that . . .”  He stole another glance at Elain.  Her steadfast strength was keeping him going.  “That she bore you a son.  She couldn’t tell you out of fear, but she couldn’t take the secret with her to the next life.”

Helion blinked once then stared intensely at Lucien.  Then he blinked several times rapidly as if realization was dawning on him.  “You . . .”

Lucien nodded.  “I am your offspring,” he confirmed and for the first time, Lucien took a good look at Helion compared to himself.  It was true that Lucien had always been darker than his brothers in skintone and now that he had something to compare it to, he realized he was of Helion’s coloring.  There were definitely similarities in their faces as well.

“I . . .” Helion started, but he seemed to be just as lost for words as Lucien had been the previous day.  He stepped to one of the couches and collapsed.  “I beg your patience, Lucien,” he said.  “But in the last 30 seconds you’ve told me that the woman I’ve loved for five centuries was killed by a male I’ve been tempted to have assissinated more times than I can count and that I am a father.  That I am your father.”

“Take all the time you need,” Lucien assured him, taking a seat on the sofa opposite him.

“Would you like me to pour you a drink?” Elain offered.

Helion looked up at her and smiled gratefully.  “You are the kindest . . yes, please.”

“Lucien?” she asked as she made her way over to the wet bar.

Lucien took a deep breath and nodded.  “Maybe I’d better.”  He realized that aside from their wine at dinner the night before, he’d gone through all these revelations without a single drink to dull the shock.

She nodded and started pouring them both a measure into high-ball glasses.  She brought them over and handed one to each of them.

“Thank you, my love,” Lucien said automatically as he took it from her.  He didn’t even think if she was okay with the affectionate reference.  He didn’t stop to think how that might have broken Helion’s heart even further.

Elain smiled at him and nodded before resuming her seat next to him.

Helion seemed to be staring off into space, looking between the two of them instead of at either of them.  After a long while he finally spoke.  “I take it you two have accepted the mating bond?” he asked.

Lucien took Elain’s hand, squeezed it, and nodded to Helion.  “She made me a roast chicken last night.”

“Roast chicken?” Helion asked with surprise in his voice.  “Deceptively simple.”

“Well Feyre gave Rhys soup,” Elain said, blushing a little.  “I didn’t want to do something similar like stew, and Feyre did tell me that Lucien always ate hearty when roast chicken was on the menu.”

Helion smiled at that and let silence fall again.

Lucien took a slow swig of his drink, nervous about what Helion might say next.  Should they leave and let him grieve in peace?

“Will there be a Celebration of her life?” Helion finally asked.

“Yes,” Lucien replied.  “I’m sure that as a High Lord you would be justified in attending.  Eris certainly won’t mind.”

“The two of you are getting along better these days?”

Lucien chuckled.  “Yes.  He actually helped me get to Spring all those years ago.  Without putting himself or our mother in additional danger, he did right by me.  I support him as High Lord of Autumn.”

Helion nodded slowly.  “So will you be returning to the Autumn Court as one of your brother’s advisors?”

Lucien resisted the urge to frown in disappointment.  Until that moment, he hadn’t realized he was hoping for an invitation to call the Day Court home.  He wasn’t sure what Helion was thinking, though, and he didn’t want to give away too much of his own feelings, so he put on his emissary mask before answering. “No,” he said.  “That honestly hadn’t occurred to me. Eris has Azriel and Gerod and other loyal advisors.  He doesn’t need me in his court.”

“Prefer to stay in the Night Court?” Helion guessed.  “Especially with your mate the sister of the High Lady . . .”

“As the High Lady, and a new mother, my sister’s time is generally spoken for,” Elain said before Lucien could answer.  “She, Nesta, and I are all off onto the next chapters of our individual lives, wherever that might take us.  My life will be wherever Lucien’s is.”

Helion smirked at her.  “You’ve got yourself a savvy mate, Lucien.  Of course you make a great match.”

Lucien used every ounce of training and control not to look surprised or confused.  “She is something,” he agreed vaguely and amicably.

Helion laughed.  “Stop worrying,” he said.  “You, of course, are welcome to make the Day Court your home.  In fact, I would be honored to acknowledge you as my son and heir as soon as you’re ready.”

“You would?” Lucien asked, unable to hide his surprise any longer.

Helion put his drink down as he got up from his couch and strode over to them.  He offered a hand out to Lucien.  Lucien handed his drink to Elain and then took Helion’s hand.  The male pulled him up and enveloped Lucien in a tight embrace.  “Of course I would,” he asserted.  “You’re smart, battle-tested, a courtier’s courtier, kind and compassionate  . . .” Helion looked around Lucien to Elain.  “Have I missed anything?”

Lucien turned to see Elain smiling as she got to her feet.  “I think you hit the high points,” she agreed.

“My only regret, Lucien, is that I’ve found out you’re my son now, when you’re a grown adult, without much need for a father.  I take that back, I have another regret, that you were so mistreated by Beron as a boy and a young male.  You deserved better than that.”  Helion’s frown was deep and sincere.

Lucien had never been wanted by Beron, but Helion, who’d only known Lucien was his son for a handful of minutes not only wanted him, was upset that he missed Lucien’s youth, and was ready to make him his heir.  This sudden change of circumstance threw Lucien for a loop.  “I . . .I don’t know what to say,” he finally stammered, dropping the mask since it was clearly not needed.

Helion shook his head.  “Don’t say anything right this second.  Stay here for a few days.  See the Day Court through different eyes, not as an emissary, but as one who stands to inherit what you see.  Show Elain around,” and he turned to her directly.  “I hear you are a connoisseur of gardens?  You will love the garden in the back of the palace, I guarantee it.”

Elain grinned and gave Lucien an encouraging nod.

“We didn’t bring any change . . .” Lucien started.

“Not to worry,” Helion assured him.  “The nice thing about Day Court fashion is that is almost once size fits all for the men.  I’m sure we can get you some lovely things very quickly,” he added to Elain.

Lucien looked from his mate to his father and back again.  “If it’s really alright, I think I would like to stay for a little while,” he admitted.

Helion pulled him into another hug.  “Son, you’re home as far as I’m concerned.  Tomorrow we’ll go to the Autumn Court and we’ll grieve your mother together, but tonight we should celebrate this new family we’ve become! Your mother would haved wanted that.”

Lucien, despite himself, felt himself breaking into relieved laughter.  “I agree.”

So Helion began calling in servants, a valet for Lucien and a maid for Elain.  He ordered that rooms be prepared for them and that their every wish satisfied.  In the meantime, Helion would call his advisors together to tell them the good news.  They could stop trying to push him into a marriage just to produce an heir because he already had one.

As Lucien watched Elain’s maid herd her into her bedroom to be measured for clothes, he could see that she was smiling just as widely as he was.  Maybe this was going to be perfect for both of them.  After all, here she wasn’t Feyre’s sister.  She could be a woman of influence in her own right.  Yes, he had to agree with his father, he was tempted to say that he was finally home.

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

It’s me again! 🎅

Happy Monday! Hope you’re having a great start to the week. I’m here with my first gift-related question!

I just realised I totally forgot to tell you what type of gift I have in the works for you - I’m a fic writer, so over the next few days I’ll be bombarding you with fic-related questions 😅 I can’t wait to get started on your story!

And also, I’m just so excited to get to know you over the next two months! I’ve had a little snoop through your blog and I just want to say I absolutely love your writing, you’re so talented! Have you been in the fandom long are you new to ACOTAR? Do you have any favourite headcanons, or pairings you love other than Elucien?

As for your gift, I think the first thing I’d love to know is - would you prefer an AU story, or something set in the canon universe? Is canon just a suggestion we like to ignore, or would you like to read something set post-ACOSF?

Sorry if this was a lot lol - I promise I’ll be super chill once I have an idea of your preferences!

Talk to you again soon!

Hi!

Oh I'm so excited for something new to read!

Thank you for the compliment about my own writing. While I'm a veteran fanfic author, I'm new to ACOTAR fanfiction. Heck, I only finished the books this past spring. So I'm not very confident about my contributions yet.

Headcanon I subscribe to: Eris is actually a good male, and Helion is going to be ridiculously excited about having a son. I love Bat-Boy banter.

Pairings: Feysand, Nessian, and while I hadn't considered it until stumbling through Tumblr, I'm becoming a major Azris stan. I'm perfectly fine with Gwynriel too, though.

As for your last question, I don't have a preference. I often write/read AU for other fandoms so I know they can be done well, but the canon is so good so far, I'm willing to stay in that lane as well. I think the only thing I wouldn't like is a militant Elain. Passionate, sure, but not literally militant.

No worries about showing enthusiasm. I'm excited too! Feel free to fire as many questions as you like.

😁🎄

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Ho ho ho! Your new best friend Secret Santa here 🎅🎄 I’m so excited to be creating for you! A little elf told me you’re interested in Elucien (aka my favourite ship ever which I’m totally normal and definitely not completely insane about) - is that still your preference?

I’ll be reaching out with a few more questions soon! Keep an eye out on your askbox 👀

It’s so lovely to meet you!!

Hi! I'm so excited for this event. I'm definitely happy to receive Elucien content. I love the pairing, partially because Lucien is so underrated, and Elain deserves more dimension than she's had so far.

I look forward to your questions.

Nice to meet you too!