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rwolf19 · 6 years ago

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Garden Pt. 3 — An Elucien Fic

Length: 3911

Rating: M, SFW(ish)

First | Previous | The Pull (Nessian) | Aflame

A/N: Hullo, I’m back. I have this nasty habit of sitting on finished fics until I forget about them. My bad! But also, FUCK TUMBLR IT’S NOT LIKE I’M TRYING TO POST ON MOBILE AND GOT FUCKED IN THE ASS INSTEAD STUPID ASS FUCKING APP DESIGNED TO MURDER ITS USERS FOR THE SAKE OF MONEY I’M GOING TO AO3 and I’M NOT COMING BACK I’M rWolfWrites fuck this shiiiittt it wasn’t going to be an April’s Fool shit but damn does this fucking nonsense PISS ME OFFFFFFFFFF I COPY AND PASTE THE WHOLE ASS THING AND IT TELLS ME IM OVER PARAGRAPH LIMIT WITH LITERALLY LIKE FIVE LEFT GO SUCK A DICK TUMBLR I’M FUCKING TAKING MY FICS AND LEAVING JESUS FUCKING CHRIST IT’S NOT PORN YOU PRUDISH FUCKS YALLST WANT JUST THE BEGINNING JUST THE END OR SOME FUCKING NONSENSE EVERY OTHER GODDAMN PARAGRAPH FUCK IM GOING TO WRITE SOME AFLAME AU WHILE IM MAD JESUS Fuck

WHY IS THERE SO MUCH DEAD SPACE JUSR LET ME POST LIKE THREE PARAGRAPHS OF THE FUCKING NONSENSE JESUS H CHRIST EAT A DICK TUMBLR

Elain liked the Day Court. She liked the way Lucien’s russet eye gleamed as his tinker-friend explained things. She liked the marble and the air and the sky. More than the Night Court, it was peaceful. Not in the same way, though. The Day Court was bustling and bursting with energy. There was always someone to help, always something to do.

And the City of the Sun—gods, she loved Solas. It was bright and full of hard-working people who yet stopped to enjoy the feel of the sun on skin or scale or carapace. Everyone wore more or less the same thing; everyone had passionate conversations of whatever fancy had recently taken their interest; everyone tried everything and spoke only of the good. Little complaining was heard because they had all been subject to terrible hardship.

“Elain, I do believe you are single-handedly going to change how people view the Night Court,�� Helion said over dinner. She and Lucien always dined together, but Helion showed up only when he wanted to. They’d been given a suite of rooms with a dining and sitting area between their bedrooms. They shared a bathroom as well, though Elain was used to that. “Anyone I talk to can only say that you brighten the day.”

Elain blushed, “The people here are very welcoming. I’ve never met so many who are so purposefully happy.”

Lucien grunted in agreement and pushed his food around his plate. Helion sat at the head of the small table, and Lucien was across from Elain. She stretched out her foot carefully and nudged him. His eyes raised to hers for a moment before returning to his half-finished plate.

“Come now, Elain, don’t sell yourself short,” Helion smiled broadly. “Tell me, can you see yourself staying here?” Lucien’s head snapped up with a snarl. “Don’t.” “Lucien.” Helion only laughed and threw a grape into his mouth. He leaned back in his chair. “There was no reason for Rhysand to send both of you here unless he wants to incorporate something of his here or something of mine in the Night Court. I’m simply wondering-“ “I asked to come,” Elain said softly, her eyes never leaving Lucien. He continued to glare at the High Lord. She wanted to come to get away from Nesta. Because despite how many times Nesta had apologized, despite Feyre’s healing, Elain could not forget the moment that her sister went crazy and slammed her head into the mantle of the fireplace in Feyre’s townhouse. She couldn’t walk through the room without smelling her own blood, without seeing Lucien pleading for her to stay awake. And the roof, the roof where her garden was, it had become the place where Cassian had snapped Lucien’s leg. Elain left because her sister’s mating was negatively effecting her own. Elain left because she thought she might be more daring away from her sisters. She’d built this grand fantasy in her head around going to the Day Court and using the opportunity to be with Lucien—in every sense of the word. But Lucien, it seemed, did not want to touch her here, where he said the walls watched. He did no more than kiss her cheek before retiring to his own room every night. “Did you miss me that much?” Lucien bared his teeth in a low growl. Helion smirked, “Your mate doesn’t seem to like me.” “You’ve never given me much reason to,” Lucien answered sharply. “Lucien,” Elain warned again, softer. “Never? I hardly know you, Lucien, yet I’ve given you the best guest suite-“ “My mother has spent most my life being beaten behind closed doors,” Lucien said lowly. Helion’s smile evaporated. “I know it is punishment for something you were party to.” “Lucien-“ “You know he does it because she loved you. You know, and you’ve known from the start. And still, you do nothing. You had just gotten peace from the first War, then you were under Amarantha’s thumb. She tortured my mother, not because of me, not because of my father, but because it was the only way she knew how to hurt you, you personally, for your part in the War,” Lucien spat. Helion’s lip curled into a sneer. His eyes glowed faintly. “And my mother wasn’t worth your time or resources. She doesn’t deserve anything more than the hell she’s lived for centuries-“ “Enough,” Helion stood. Elain tried not to squeak in fright. Lucien rose just as quickly, jabbing his finger at Helion. “And you have the nerve to sit there and flirt with my mate as though anyone could want to stay with you after how you treated my mother!” “Lucien!” Elain gasped. Helion’s nostrils flared, “Been sitting on that for a while?” “Two-hundred years.” They glared at each other for a long time. Elain could not help but notice how similar their profiles were. The tone of their skin was near the same as well, though Lucien was much fairer. Even the way they were built- ‘You can’t catch me!’ A small child races away from her, hair brassy, feet tiny and pattering. She chases the child through the palace, weaving through marble pillars. She gains on the child enough to brush the soft white chiton the child wears. The child screams, running for the familiar forms of her mate and another. “Grandfather, help me!” “Elain, you shouldn’t have to run,” says Helion, lifting the child into his arms. “The little one might get upset.” Her mate kisses her lightly, touching her stomach with the other hand. “As much as I hate it when he’s right, Elain . . .” “Elain!” Lucien’s eyes were wide, very close to her. She was not sitting. She was on her back. On the floor. He was gripping her face. Relief flooded his face as she took a deep breath. He kissed her cheek and her forehead and cradled her closer. “You scared me.” “Both of us,” said Helion. He was several feet away, his hands clasped in front of him. “I don’t like to think what your sisters would do if you were hurt here.” “Shut up,” Lucien snapped. He stroked Elain’s hair gently. Elain tried to sit up, and he supported her cautiously. “Are you all right?” “I- I saw-“ “Later,” Lucien murmured, kissing her cheek again. He pressed his nose down into her neck and breathed deeply. “Would you mind leaving us alone for a little bit?” Elain asked lightly. Helion smiled and inclined his head. He left without another word. Elain pulled away from Lucien, “That was very rude.” Lucien laughed lowly. Elain twisted to see his face just as his laughter became truly hysterical. There was so much pain in his russet eye. Elain shifted so she was sitting beside him and let him rest his head on her shoulder. He laughed for a while long, then began to weep. Elain held him. —:—:—:— Lucien had planned none of it. Still, Helion did not defend his mother. There had been no regret on Helion’s face. Lucien hated Helion as much as he loved his lady mother. Watching him attempt to charm Elain was infuriating on a deeply primal level. Trying to trick her into using her gifts was despicable, as far as Lucien was concerned. Can you See yourself staying here? Lucien had never wanted to hit a male more. At least Helion hadn’t flirted with him. That would’ve unbearable on an entirely different level. The breakdown was the result of two hundred years of practicing the perfect Fuck You speech being wasted. He hadn’t said half of what he meant to. And Elain should never have had to witness that outpouring of bitter anger. Helion had been avoiding Lucien alone since they arrived, and his frustration had boiled over. “Stop,” Elain said. She’d dragged him off to a garden in the middle of Solas. The moon hung low on the horizon, and she was shivering behind him. She wove magical flowers into his hair as she carefully braided it. He could tell they were glowing. Her fingers were quick and gentle, and he tried to focus on that instead of their miserable dinner. “Stop what?” He feigned ignorance. “Stop agonizing about what happened.” “What happened when?” “Lucien.” “I’ve already completely forgotten,” he said dramatically, “You’ll have to explain.” “Lucien,” she tugged on his hair sharply. It surprised him enough to earn her a groan. She gave up chastising him to finish his braid. He could practically feel the heat of her blush. She tapped his shoulder and he passed her the leather band for it. “Stop smirking.” “I’m not,” he lied lowly. “I can hear it in your voice,” Elain complained. “I’m sat on a blanket at night with my beautiful mate in an enchanted garden and she’s embarrassed because I made a sex noise,” Lucien carefully pulled his braided hair over his shoulder. Sure enough, several of the flowers Elain had braided in were glowing silver. “What could I possibly have to smirk about?” “Lucien,” Elain grumbled. She maneuvered around to sit next to him, shivering in her chiton. The style of the Day Court suited her. He pulled her closer to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and heating the space above the blanket. She sighed softly and nuzzled closer still. “Elain,” Lucien hummed, kissing her hair. “You’ve said my name an awful lot tonight.” “Lucien,” she said again, turning her head toward his. She kissed his jaw lightly. Blood roared through him. “Lucien.” She kissed his cheek. His arm slid from her shoulder to her waist. “Lucien.” She kissed his lips. He tugged her into his lap carefully. She hummed against him and rested her hands on his chest. He cupped her face with a hand. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth. He groaned and bit her. Elain gasped, pulling away. Lucien cursed and held up a tongue of flame so he could see. “Did I hurt you?” “I- you-“ Elain’s pink face deepened her eyes. The soft brown was nearly entirely enveloped by her pupils. “You’ve never done that before.” The rasp in her voice sent blood racing faster. Lucien touched her lip gently. He hadn’t broken the skin. And judging by her voice, he hadn’t scared her. “Do you want me to do it again?” Lucien asked. Elain watched him for a moment before nodding. Her arousal was intoxicating. He smiled and she kissed him, hungrily, waiting. An idea sparked in his mind that perhaps his mate liked things the same way he did. The next time he bit her, it was on her neck, and he pulled her hair at the same time. She cried out so loudly that he had to cover her mouth with his hand. Her face turned red as he kissed her cheeks and her nose, trying not to laugh. “Maybe we should go somewhere else, Lucien,” she said when he removed his hand. Lucien just chuckled and kissed her again. “Is this why you wanted to be a mountain range apart from Nesta?” Lucien asked. Elain pouted and clambered off him. “I’m teasing, Elain. It’s good. It’s great.” “Oh,” Elain said lightly. She settled beside him again. She picked at the threads of the blanket. “I haven’t ever . . .” “Been pleasured before?” Lucien teased. Elain’s cheek went bright, and she nodded, biting her lip. Lucien tidied her hair carefully and kissed the tip of her ear. “We’ll find someplace where you can be as loud as you want. My ego really needs it.” She pinched his side. He caught her hand and interlaced their fingers. “Somewhere Nesta won’t bother us-“ “Or Feyre,” Elain blew a tuft of hair out of her face. Lucien lifted an eyebrow. “She always says things and I . . .” “I‘ll tell her to close her fat mouth,” Lucien said. Elain gasped as he knew she would, and he smiled and kissed her lightly. “Would you rather I tell her to use it for something else?” “Lucien!” Elain pinched him with her other hand. Lucien laughed. “You’re just as bad!” “Oh?” Lucien lowered his voice and leaned into her ear. “And what should I use my mouth for?” “You are absolutely incorrigible,” Elain whispered. Lucien noted the flash of her teeth before she ducked her head. “You like it,” Lucien said bravely. Elain lifted her head, carefully not smiling. Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you?” “With these things, I’m only stumbling around in the dark,” Elain said softly. “And you’re . . . Something to follow.” “You’ve scandalized me before,” Lucien reminded her. “I didn’t think that possible,” Elain hummed. “You told me once that you bathed naked.” “Everyone does that!” “Yes,” Lucien chuckled. “But most people don’t plant the image of themselves wet and naked and-“ “Well, I was trying to seduce you,” Elain pouted. “It didn’t even work.” “You don’t need to seduce me, Elain,” Lucien breathed, kissing her. “I’m all yours.” —:—:—:— “No. . . . Elain isn’t awake yet, this can wait. . . . We are Night Courtiers, remember.” Elain lifted her head from the pillows enough to see that Lucien was no longer beside her. He had kissed her and held her through the night. She’d fallen asleep in the garden and half-woke in her bed. She knew she’d pleaded with him to stay, to touch her. He promised to stay, but he would only touch her when she was fully awake. Elain fell asleep before she could argue the point. There were voices from the next room over. Elain found her dressing gown and padded out, wrapping her arms around herself against the morning chill. The bedroom door had been left cracked open, and she pushed through it carefully. Lucien was talking with Helion. His hair was braided from the night before, though the flowers were gone. His arms were crossed over his chest. He looked none too pleased. She went over and rested her chin on his shoulder, kissing just below his ear. “Good morning, Lady Elain.” She smiled for Helion and breathed in her mate’s scent. “I came to apologize for dinner last night. Are you feeling better?” “You came to apologize but you haven’t,” Elain sighed. Lucien relaxed as she wrapped her arms around his middle. “It’s cold here.” The room instantly warmed. Elain smiled and closed her eyes. “Come back to bed.” “Just a minute, Elain,” Lucien touched her hands. His voice hardened. “Your apology means little to me.” “I cannot simply walk into Autumn,” said Helion. “Come now,” Lucien said. “With what happened between Rhysand and Tamlin-“ “Beron is not Tamlin. Your mother did not want to leave her children, Lucien, because she loves you. I would have happily taken you in, but Beron would have seen it as a threat-“ “Eris is going to take Beron’s head off by the end of the year,” Elain yawned. She slumped further into Lucien. “You’re so warm.” “Pretend you didn’t hear that,” Lucien said hastily. “We’ll join you for lunch, but as you can tell my mate is . . .” “Trying to get you back into bed,” Elain murmured. “You promised.” Lucien cleared his throat. “Enjoy your morning in,” Helion said slyly. His footsteps receded and a door opened and shut. Elain supposed he had gone. “Did you really See that?” Lucien whispered. “Months ago,” Elain nodded into his shoulder. “It shifts, but something happened a few weeks ago that made it solid.” Her visions were that way sometimes. The closer they got to coming true, the more real they seemed. Other times they were just shifting images in a fog, thoughts or words or people she couldn’t recognize. It got muddled often. Then, in all the confusion, there would be a bolt of clarity, something that would without doubt come to pass. Like that little Illyrian nephew of hers, or the child with the brassy hair. Those were certainties, even if they slid along time injudiciously. “Do you really want me to take you to bed?” Lucien murmured after a time. Elain wondered how long they had been standing there, both lost in thought. Something told her it had been long enough for Lucien to pack away what she’d said into different versions for the members of the Inner Circle. Something for Azriel, who wanted Eris dead; something for Cassian, who knew the opportunity presented to them; the truth for her sister and brother-by-law. Elain opened her eyes. Lucien was doing his best to look at her without turning and disturbing her. Elain raised a hand and gripped his hair. “Lucien.” “Yes, Elain?” “I’m all yours.” The first time was sweet and gentle. Lucien coaxed her to climax twice before carefully pushing inside her, rocking into her and kissing her and touching her. She did not bleed, nor did it hurt. It surprised her. When she whispered her fears to Lucien, he kissed her cheeks and told her those were the concerns of women fucked by human men who were inexperienced idiots or plain cruel. The next time he asked her to turn onto her stomach. He kissed her shoulder and pushed into her from behind. Then he went faster, he pulled her hair, he slammed against her. Elain liked that just as much. Lucien was panting and grinning wickedly by the time they were both spent. “I want to make you breakfast,” Elain hummed, drawing circles on his bare chest with her fingers. He stiffened, and she looked up to hold his gaze. Feyre had mentioned what food meant between mates. She kissed Lucien’s shoulder as he opened his mouth, “I know what it means, yes.” “Elain,” Lucien touched her chin, lifting her head to kiss her. “Are you sure?” “Why shouldn’t I be?” Elain murmured. “I’m the one who can See. I know.” “You know what?” Lucien breathed. “I know that our own children are fairer than our nephews,” Elain kissed him before her words could register. “I know that you never stray from me. I know that you teach me what love means, and that I never grow tired of your touch.” “Hang- Hang on,” Lucien frowned. “Our-“ “I know,” Elain said simply. He kissed her again, rolled over top of her carefully. Elain smiled against him. He leaned his forehead against hers and let his hand drift over her. “And what I don’t know, you’ll teach me.” “Damn right,” Lucien growled. —:—:—:— Rhys and Azriel looked less pleased than usual when Elain and Lucien emerged from Helion’s palace. The High Lord of Day was standing beside them with his arms crossed. Lucien nearly cursed aloud, but Elain was laughing and holding his arm and pulling him along before he could dwell on the older Faes’ expressions. She released him and greeted both Rhysand and Azriel with a kiss on the cheek. She bowed slightly to Helion and reached back for Lucien. He took her hand and she hummed slightly. “You look well,” Azriel said quietly. Rhys’s nose twitched. “Thank you,” Elain answered brightly. Lucien knew that she was perfectly aware of the tension in the air, and chose to ignore it. She looked back at him and smiled. He couldn’t help but return it. She glowed for her happiness. Lucien stepped closer and kissed her forehead. “Go home with Az,” he murmured. “I’m about to be chewed out.” “It’s probably best I talk Nesta down when she smells you on me,” Elain whispered. She kissed him before he could smile. Rhys cleared his throat. Elain stepped back and addressed him. “My sister was right about you.” She took Azriel’s arm and the Shadowsinger took her away before Rhys’s jaw could drop. Lucien laughed. She was so very excellent at keeping the last word. He blamed her Seer abilities. “Before either of you start,” Lucien held up a hand. “I don’t care.” “You’ll care when I send you to the Illyrian Camps without Cassian,” Rhys growled. Lucien spread his hands, “I was raised by Beron. You’re lucky I can claim what little manners I have.” “Lucien,” Rhysand snarled. Helion’s mouth tightened. Lucien met his gaze and felt fire spring to life in his blood. Helion’s brow dropped. Lucien felt his power searching, tried to fend it off with some of his own. Something happened that had never happened to Lucien before. Instead of fending off Helion’s attack, Lucien’s power intwined with the High Lord’s. Surprised flickered in both males’ eyes and they hauled back their power at the same time. Lucien’s heart pounded loud enough for them to hear it on the continent. His muscles tensed as he clenched his jaw. Helion kept his face carefully neutral. “Let’s go,” Lucien said, moving closer to Rhysand. “We’re not done-“ “Let him be a petulant child,” Helion waved a hand and stalked inside. “It’s not my problem.” Lucien heard the doubt. Rhysand glared at him for a moment before gripping his shoulder and winnowing them home. They landed on the roof where Cassian had broken Lucien’s leg. Lucien fell into one of the iron wrought chairs, holding his head in his hands. Rhysand started to head inside. “Is that why you sent me?” Rhysand was not fool enough to fein innocence. “Partially.” Lucien cursed violently. “Will you ever stop meddling in everyone else’s lives?” “That’s not-“ “I guess you wouldn’t,” Lucien looked over his shoulder. “Too much fun to watch everyone fall apart and have them owe you for piecing them back together.” Rhysand’s jaw ticked. Lucien raised his eyebrows. Cassian thundered up the stairs and burst onto the roof. “You’re back.” “You’re standing again,” Lucien said tersely. Cassian looked between him and his High Lord. Lucien raised his eyebrows. “Where is Elain?” “Asking where you are.” “I asked where she is, not what she’s doing,” Lucien snapped. “Oh-kay, the trip to Day did not go well I see,” Cassian held up his hands. “I’ll go find-“ “You filthy-“ Cassian caught his mate as she flew out of the house, her claws reaching for Lucien. He could’ve sworn he felt them rake down his face. Nesta hissed and thrashed like a wild beast. “Nesta!” Feyre shouted from down the steps. “Never a dull moment,” Rhysand quipped, heading inside. Lucien followed carefully, wary of the way Nesta had stilled against Cassian. He held her hands against her chest. She hissed again as he passed. Lucien stuck out his tongue. He wasn’t sure why. Not to antagonize her, surely, but to prove he would not take her abuse lying down. He could’ve mentioned the way Elain moaned for him, the way she begged for him. He could’ve said nothing. The half-rude, half-childish gesture was a sort of middle ground. He took the stairs faster than Rhysand, who paused to greet his own mate. “He’s more scared of your sister than of me.” “Only one of you stole from the Cauldron,” Lucien called over his shoulder. A bit of Feyre’s ice nipped at his fingers. He banished it with matching flames. To her, and Rhysand, he rudely gestured. Elain was at the bottom of the stairs, her hands on her hips, pouting. He stopped one step from the floor, blinking innocently at her, tucking his hands behind his back. She looked up at him through her lashes. He dropped that last step and kissed her. One day, she would be his High Lady. The look in her eyes confirmed it. “It gets better,” she promised, touching his cheek. “What does?” “Everything.”

#elucien fic #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acotar fanfiction #elucien #post-acowar

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