#Lucien’s hot and you’re so scared of that

[olenvasynyt]

I honestly dont blame you. Elriels are the best artists!!! With an actual ship. Way better than anyone that draws the ugly gingers 🤮

Bet you cant wait for fan art when the next book comes out and finally confrms Elriel. There are going to be so many options!

Me: yeah I don’t like E/riel but I still like some of the art because I think the art is pretty and I support artists!

Anon: the artists who draw your terrible ship and ugly gingers🤮 are literally awful!

Ah yes, those ugly gingers, am I right, Anon?

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight Chapter 20

A/n: its tiiiiiiiiiime. Happy Christmas eve eve. This wraps up my first fic and I am so thankful for everyone who has read and showed their support. It was very fun for me. I'll be back in the new year with more!!!!!

Word count: 3k

warnings: none

Other chapters

You’d never thought you’d look at Azriel and think he looked weak. But the dark circles under his eyes, the bent posture and the gauntness of his cheeks make him look like a ghost of himself. You find the kitchen and thank the gods there’s some bread, cheese and jam. “Here, you should eat” you say, handing him a plate and glass of water. He eats in silence. When he’s finished he looks up at you “you don’t want to eat?” Shake your head and reply “not hungry”. You move closer to him and touch his face, having a hard time believing what just happened was real. Needing confirmation that this is really him. That he’s safe. “Are you hurt?” A small smile threatens to tug up his lips “I’m alright”. You scan his face, neck, torso, arms and legs and confirm that he is not bleeding and ask “your ankles?” Remembering the force with which he tugged at the heavy metal. “They’ll be fine tomorrow”. His hands are on your hips now, he pulls you to sit on his lap and hides his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “You scared me” He mumbles solemnly. You’re running your hands through his hair as you answer “I know, he didn’t give me much of a choice” he looks up at you and says “I take it your power involves more than lightning?” you nod and his drooping eyes tell you it's time to clean up and put an end to this day. So you stand “come on, let's find a bath and a bed” he groans when you tug him to follow. 

After trying a few doors you find a room that looked like it had never been used. Luckily it had a bathing room attached. You fill the tub with hot water, bath salts and oils. Azriel gets in first then you settle between his legs, resting your back against his chest. He wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you as close as possible. “When you didn’t come back I knew you were in trouble, you had told me seven days and were gone eight before I left. But before then, I knew it. Felt it in my bones, a primal gut feeling and… then I remembered a conversation I had with Elain ages ago. I think it was before the Solstice. Where she said that she felt a pull to be with Lucien in her bones as well. I thought she meant figuratively, but I feel like you’re a magnet I can’t help but be drawn to” he was kissing along your neck as you talked, only stopping to confess “I felt you were at the lake before I saw you. My shadows hadn’t even spotted you but something in my chest settled when it knew you were near. That only lasted a few seconds before I realized what was going to happen”. You turn in his grasp to face him “do you think that means something?” He nods “I’ve had a suspicion for a while” you raise your brows “you have?” 

“I thought it was impossible, you’re from another universe. Out of the Mother’s reach. But since I first saw you… that was it. You were scared and still shaken, but it was like I could see clearly for the first time” 

“You think we’re mates?” He slowly nods “I do”. You rest your forehead on his chest, cheeks suddenly flushed with color and gasp as you feel a snapping and uncoiling in your chest “oh my god”. Your head snaps back up and Azriel is looking at you wide eyed. “Did you feel that?” 

“Yes”

Nerves flood your system. So does love, adoration, admiration, longing and lust. It’s overwhelming. Tears gather in your waterline. “Are you nervous?” Azriel nods and your tears begin to flow when you see he’s about to cry as well. He grabs the back of your head and brings you close, lips meeting in a kiss. Frenzied. 

By the time you drag yourselves to bed the water in the tub had run cold and your skin had gone pruny. You lay with your head on his chest, arms draped over his abs, tracing over the swirling inky lines. There was still so much to be done. You had left your belongings in an inn in Vallahan, you did not know where Mor had winnowed you, there was an impending war, Rhysand was still an issue, so was the question of returning to Velaris. As a matter of fact your entire future was up in the air. But right now, right here… with your mate… you could drift into a restful sleep. 

The ship and the soldiers had just vanished. Miraculously disappeared into thin air. Eris did not disperse his troops until the sun came up. Marking the beginning of a new day. 

Rhysand sat in his study. He had finally reached Mor. What she told him made bile rise in his throat. The girl had slaughtered Koshchei and, based on the timeline of the events, was the reason why the invading armies vanished. The working theory being that he had enchanted objects into becoming his sentinels and troops. With him gone, so were they.  She had saved his court, his country, his family, his brother. She had even freed Vassa. On her own. He was certain the next item on her list was his head, perfectly perched on a stake. 

Afternoon sun spilled into the room, waking you up after the best night’s sleep you had gotten since Azriel left for the Continent. You take a deep breath, reveling in your mate’s scent. It made your heart sing to be so intertwined. His arm was snuggly around your waist as if to prevent you from floating away. He’s still sleeping, and you want to let him rest for as long as possible. He had been through a lot. He had been through enough. Red anger begins to contour your face as you think of Rhysand. The male who had known the dangers and ordered your mate to leave. The male who claimed to be his brother. Who knew how he had gotten every one of his scars and still sent him- ordered him - to dangerous territory. By your standards that was unforgivable. Then add to that the wasted time that could have been used for war preparations. You could feel your blood begin to boil. “What’s got you so worked up first thing in the morning” it was like pressing a button and you were putty in his hands. 

“Just thinking of all the ways I’ll make Rhysand pay for what he did to you”

Eris was sitting at his desk at the Forest House, Lucien stood looking out the window and spoke “Feyre told me they think her killing Koschei caused the invaders to vanish, she must possess a great deal of power” 

“I don’t doubt it” Lucien turned his head and raised a sharp brow. Eris just pulled at his shirt to reveal a dark tattoo “can’t offer any explanation”. 

“What do you think she’ll do now?” 

“You probably know her better than I do,” Eris smirked. 

“All I know is that Rhysand is in deep shit” 

Azriel had talked you off the ledge by telling you that killing Rhysand would kill Feyre. It had to be one of the most romantic things you had ever heard, and one of the stupidest. “But he has to pay, Azriel” you soak in every touch, every caress “he’s my High Lord, I’ve sworn my loyalty to him”.

 “Well he’s not my High Lord” Azriel chuckles at your tone. 

“What should we do now? Where should we go?” Where could you even go? Velaris would be your first choice if it weren’t for a certain arrogant male. It was Azriel’s home and, to a lesser degree, yours as well. The Inner Circle had welcomed you, nurtured you. The city was vibrant, diverse and beautiful. There was the added complication that there were two of you now. When you were on your own you could run away to wherever without much thought. That's what got you to this world in the first place. The instinct to run. To run away, never looking back for longer than a moment. “Eris granted me an unconditional welcome and protection in the Autumn Court”. The idea of returning to the Forest House, to the same place you were drained, to the last place you had been human was not at all appealing. Azriel felt the same way, the bond let you know as much. “We could stay there for a bit, while we figure out our next move”

“Do you want to go there?” You shake your head in reply “not really, but we would be safe, we could rest and heal”. He pulls you close to his chest and says “why don’t we try to find something to eat?” 

Mor was in the kitchen pouring herself tea. “Good evening” she smirks, bringing the cup to her lips. “Hi Mor, is there any food here?” She motions to one of the cabinets on the wall, “there should be something there”. Azriel opens it and pulls out crackers and jam “who lives here?” Mor shrugs, “no one”. You scowl “who’s house is this then?” She rolls her eyes “mine”. Now Azriel looks at her quizzically “you bought a house in Vallahan?” “Yes”. You motion for Azriel to pass you the food and you dig in, not wanting to annoy Mor to the point of kicking you out. You thought you’d eat in silence but then she spoke again: 

“I talked with Rhys this morning” you stop chewing and swallow, your throat suddenly dry. Azriel also pauses at the news “and?” 

“He said that they were prepared to face the invading armies, that all of the Courts had shown up and while the ships had rolled in and the soldiers had started to storm the beaches they just disappeared. Not a trace, not a speck of dust left in their wake. Everyone was shocked and thought it was a ploy of sorts, but by sun up they had determined that no other ships were coming. I told him what happened here and we think the two are connected” 

Azriel answered without missing a beat “it was Koschei’s invasion, of course they were connected” but she shook her head. “Yes, but we think he made this army, they were an extension of him, just enough to leave the lake. When he was… eliminated, so were they. Looks like Y/n’s the hero of the realm” 

“Ok let's just focus on deciding what our next move is, then we can focus on superlatives” you change the subject, the prophecy Koschei had showed you still fresh in your memory. 

“So you two are a unit now?” 

“Yes,” Azriel replies before you can. Mor raises a brow at you, begging for details. You bite into another cracker debating if you should tell her more or not. She would always be loyal to Rhysand to some degree… but not even Azriel knew about this house so you conclude she could be trusted with information you want to keep private. Not that your relationship with Azriel was a secret… but he was your mate, your other half. He could be leveraged and in this moment of uncertainty you couldn’t gamble anything. But you trusted Mor so you concede “last night the bond snapped, we are not willing to separate from each other anymore. So yeah, we’re a unit”. Her eyes bulge and she squeals excitedly “Mother above! That’s great news! Are you going to have a mating ceremony? Where are you gonna live? Surely not the townhouse, Az you can afford a pretty house for the two of you, right? I mean, if I can, so should you. Everyone is always coming and going there, you’d get zero privacy. Where is the ceremony gonna be? Y/n you’d look beautiful in white. Oh my gods a summertime ceremony would be perfect! It would certainly grant us enough time to plan everything. Do you know how-” she stops her tangent when she realizes you are not as excited as she is. “What?” Azriel and you share a look and then you explain “we’re not sure if we are going to return to Velaris, considering everything that has happened because of Rhysand”. 

“Oh” is all she says. 

“He’s been coming for y/n since she arrived to Velaris the first time and that was before she was fae, before her powers had manifested. Now that her powers have been revealed I don’t know if he would even welcome her back”. 

“But I could talk to him, Feyre could certainly get through to him. He can’t keep you and your mate exiled and pretend his court wont object. Hell, Nesta is Lady Death and she lives in the city” 

“Can we stay here for a few days and think about it?” She made a good point. The entire Inner Circle liked you, they loved Azriel and the thought of ripping him away from his family broke your heart, even if he was willing to leave them behind. You didn’t want him to have to choose between the two, he deserves love and his family. He deserves lunches at the River House, walks along the Sidra, snowball fights at Solstice, to see his nephew grow and so much more.

Mor had winnowed you to the River House two days after. You had spent your time resting and thinking of all of the things you wanted to say to him. Realizing he no longer had the upper hand in your dynamic. 

“Y/n” he greets evenly. He looked better since the last time you saw him. The dark circles under his eyes now lighter, his hair perfectly styled and black suit impeccably pressed. Nothing was out of place. You had braided your hair back and Mor told you to wear the silver dress you had used to find her. “How you look will send as strong a message as what you say” she told you when you argued it would be too much. The braid kept your hair out of your face and the plunging neckline of the dress revealed the swirling white scars that adorned your chest. You noticed Rhysand taking in your appearance. Maybe he was expecting the same whimpering girl that had last graced his study, maybe he was expecting torn fabric and knotted hair, maybe he was expecting pleading and bargaining. Maybe, he was expecting that you’d drop to your knees in front of him and swear your loyalty to him and his court. But you knew what you were and so did he. 

He was High Lord. 

You were Queen. 

No one would bow. 

“High Lord” you reply

“What brings you here today?” You remain standing, not wishing to stay longer than was necessary. 

“I’ve come to discuss mine and Azriel’s future” 

“Oh?”

“Recently we found out we are mates. You can understand that now we no longer wish to part ways, for any reason. He has made it clear to me we can live our lives wherever I desire. He is willing to leave his post as Spymaster and his spot in the Inner Circle if I just say the word. But I love him too much to take him away from his family, his home. So I’ve come to present you with an offer” 

“And what might that be?” 

“I know about the prophecy, I assume you do as well and that’s why you have been acting the way you have towards me” He was a king and he feared you were the queen to overthrow him. Not with a claim on the land but a claim on the very air he breathed. He was Night Triumphant, you were Wind Unchained. His powers inherited. Yours destined. He had kept the walls of his city up for five hundred years. You could shatter them in five seconds. 

He says nothing, so you continue. 

“I am not interested in power or greatness. I am not interested in your Court aside from the fact that your Inner Circle has welcomed me with open arms and helped me heal. So, I can promise you that I will never usurp your throne, I’ll never put your life in danger, or your family’s life in danger if you can promise that you won’t act against me. If you promise me a life of peace and freedom in Velaris. If not, then Azriel and I will leave. You or anyone else with never hear from us again”

“You’ll swear loyalty to the Night Court? To me as High Lord? To Feyre as High Lady?” 

“No. You know well what I am” 

He doesn’t speak for a moment. You’ve said all you wanted. 

“You’ll swear to never harm the Court or the city? To defend it?” 

“If you’ll swear to do the same for my mate and I” 

After a minute or two, he held out a hand. 

You take it and feel a new tattoo sprawl on your shoulder. 

A truce. An agreement to put your differences and fears aside, delicately tied together by an unbreakable string. 

That night you went back to Vallahan.

The next morning Azriel returned to Velaris with you.

A month after that you had a small mating ceremony in the backyard of your new house. Spring was in full bloom. Eris had reluctantly congratulated you. Lucien, Jurian and Vassa even made the trip to be there. Rhysand had kept up his end of the bargain. You had kept up yours. 

And, for the first time in a long time, you were home. 

taglist:@luvmoo @leeknows-wife @nocasdatsgay @mybestfriendmademe @evylynny

[celestiaras]

-Zander or Lucien helping you fall asleep after a really bad nightmare 😊!! (Could be angst to fluff?) —🌼anon—

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by 🌼 anon ˚₊ ⊹

ft. zander netherbrand x gn! reader — avallum, first stage production

╰₊✧ comforting you after a bad nightmare┊0.5k words

contains: nightmares, hurt/comfort, established relationship

➤ author's note: i had the most horrific body horror nightmare last night so i woke up writing this on my phone

he’s a nocturnal creature, so he’ll still be up long after you. part of his powers is the ability to connect to people via their dreams, able to peek into their unconscious, or even enter their minds if he so pleased with a simple touch of the forehead. the moment your dream takes a turn for the worse, he can sense it immediately from both the change in your aura and the physical signs: increased heart rate, closed eyelids twitching, getting sweaty, and stirring in your rest. 

it feels like a violation of boundaries to look into your dreams, so he’s just going to gently shake you awake, “oh dear, please wake up— what on earth is going on in that mind of yours?” when you finally break free from the nightmare, you’ll notice the slight panic in his tone of voice considering he has no idea how to comfort you at first. it’s the norm back in hell and he had grown numb to such things, learning early on how to brush it off and go about his day as normal. it’s moments like these which remind him how adorable and sensitive humans are. he’s actually pretty glad you made the first move of embracing him, letting him know that he should care for you like he would after a bad day,

all the cuddles you need, you will receive. he’ll rest your head on his chest and run his fingers through your hair, rocking you back and forth, soothingly telling you that it wasn’t real and that he was there for you. feel free to tell him in detail what happened if you remember in as much or little detail as you please, but he won’t force you to recollect whatever horror it was because he knows they can get confusing and freaky to think about.

he’ll do anything you want until you calm down if you’re too scared to go back to bed whether it gaming, going out for some fresh air, or chilling out with a movie on. he’ll only part with you one time to make you a hot cup of tea in your preferred flavor, otherwise he’s by your side yapping about whatever to get your mind off of it all until you slump against his shoulder and fall back asleep. he’s super careful to lay you back down without waking you up, but when you do get up again in the morning, expect to be served breakfast in bed of all your favorites.

if you give him permission to enter your nightmares in the future, then he’ll show up to get rid of whatever fear appears in your mind. his main focus will be keeping everything peaceful so that you don’t wake up from overexertion of emotions, only making sure that he leaves you with a little smile on your face as the remainder of your dream goes smoothly. you likely won’t have any memory of what occurred that night the next day, but he’ll bring it up in conversation and laugh at your face of shock when he tells you what goes on in your brain when unaware.

[selesera]

I’ve got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me

hello! I go by Sel here and I am sharing my first piece of writing with you, tumblr. I want to dedicate this to @the-lonelybarricade because she is the kindest person online and she immediately saw my other post saying I was proud of myself for writing this and said she -sobs- wanted to read it 🥹

This is a short drabble that came out a little sad and angsty but I am a diehard elucien so have hope dear reader! This was inspired by You're losing me by my queen and saviour tswizzie. I'm so sorry in advance for any typos!

__________________________

Lady Elain, 

I write this in the hopes that you will agree to speak with me upon my next visit to Velaris.

It is important and urgent.

Cordially,

Lucien

Elain smoothed out the folded lines of his letter again. Her fingers lightly brushed the letters of his elegant penmanship, terrified of blurring the ink and erasing the way he had written her name. She knew what his “important and urgent” topic was. He was tired of being shackled to her. She could feel his exhaustion, his self hatred, his desperation. Not through the bond, no. She kept her side of that golden string firmly closed. No…she could see his dreams. 

She saw night after night how he confronted her, told her she had to choose. Begging her to choose him. To love him. Or to free him.

Some nights, he would dream that she accepted him and the dream would devolve into a flurry of kisses, wandering fingers, moans and sighs of pleasure. 

Other nights, he would dream she rejected the bond. In those dreams she would stare at her own face, hardened by indifference and disdain. Watch herself coldly stand by as he wept at her feet. Scream at herself to comfort the man - male - that loved her.

She wished she could say those were the worst dreams but she had had the misfortune of seeing his other dreams too. His nightmares. Beron beheading a beautiful fae named Jesminda, wearing an expression on his cruel face much too similar to her own. Hot spikes descending on him. Standing firm against the whips against his back. Screaming as blood red nails dragged down his face. 

The truth was that Elain didn’t know how she felt about being able to see his dreams. On one hand, she felt lucky that she could see the pieces of his history that influenced who he was but that he did not let define him, even as her heart broke at the horrors that he had endured. On the other hand… if she was being honest with herself… it made her angry. 

How dare he make her care about his future? How dare he make her want to soothe and heal every jagged wound to his heart? She was independent. She was not his keeper. She was not the plaything of the cauldron. She would make her own life or die trying! 

At least that’s what she kept telling herself she would do. 

Truthfully, she was scared. How could she be independent in her baby sister’s house? Enjoying all the luxuries that her money bought? She loved Feyre. So much. Had finally created a true relationship with her sister but she still felt stifled. Bored. She couldn’t help thinking that a little distance might do them some good...

One of these days she was going to be able to control her traitorous thoughts… one of these days in her interminably long life.

This is why she hated thinking about him. He always made her question everything about herself, about her life.

Elain looked down again at the letter in her hands. The time had come to respond.

Two pathways emerged in front of her. The first, a path where she chose to stay in her quiet life and let her fear win. The second where fear was still present but sunshine and wildflowers lined the path and a love like no other awaited her.

She put her pen to her paper.

Lucien, 

Please accept my regrets. I will be unavailable during your next trip to Velaris. 

I will endeavour to make myself available on your next visit.

Elain Archeron

[acourtofladydeath]

WIP Wednesday

Hello All, I'm back with another snippet from "Welcome to the Family" because I'm having entirely too much fun sharing it and teasing @secret-third-thing 😈

If you don't know what this fic is yes, I recommend starting with the intro post here and second sneak peak here.

“It’s good that you’re scared, Ms. Archeron. You should be.” As he talked, Beron clasped his hands behind his back and walked toward the side of the bed Elain was lying closest to, just an arms length from the edge. 

“Lucien has informed me that you let some human filth fuck you, that you’re no longer pure.” 

Elain’s eyes cast aside at the statement, the words cutting deep. “He was my fiance,” she said, though her defense was half hearted. 

“It is a requirement in my family that a bride or mate stay pure through the completion of the ritual. And you didn't, did you?” The bite in Beron’s words grew, his anger becoming a thick, palpable air throughout the room. 

Unsure what to do and completely unprepared for this line of questioning Elain tried to look up at Lucien, but Beron’s hand shot out faster than she could blink. 

Beron grasped Elain firmly by the jaw, painfully forcing her to meet his gaze. Lucien’s hands around her wrists still held her firmly in place, making no move to stop Beron’s assault.

“You will answer to me, Lucien is not in charge here.” Beron said, voice seething with hot anger and disappointment once. “It is my right to be the first person to fuck my son’s mate, Ms. Archeron. So you will tell me now, did you take that from me?” 

A hot tear full of anger and fear squeezed out of Elain’s eye as she admitted, “yes.” 

“You look the part of the innocent virgin in that shift, but you’re really just a filthy fucking whore aren’t you?”

Painfully aware of the other eyes in the room roaming her body as Beron interrogated her, Elain responded again with “yes.” 

Stay tuned for more, coming soon to an AO3 near you!

[goforth-ladymidnight]

A Second Chance, Ch. 15

@praetorqueenreyna @thrumbolt @achaotichuman @northern-polaris @taymartiart @zivotzaruzi (Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged or untagged.)

I feel like I owe each one of you an apology for that last cliffhanger. I hope this chapter makes up for it. ❤️

Pairing: Tamlin x Lucien

Word Count: 7.7k (It's a long one!)

Summary: Tamlin and Lucien have a much needed heart-to-heart

Read on AO3, or read on below:

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around?” Jurian had asked as Tamlin unfastened his seat belt. “I don’t want you to be stranded or anything.”

“I’m sure,” Tamlin had said, not sounding sure at all. “Besides, I don’t know how long it’s going to take. I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“Do you even know what you’re going to say?”

Tamlin sighed, curling his fingers around the door handle. “Not yet.”

Jurian’s thumb tapped against the steering wheel as he looked away. “Yeah. Me, neither.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, even though it was going to snow soon. The sky was heavy with it. The only question was whether it was going to be the sort of storm you made hot cocoa for before snuggling under the covers with a loved one, or if it was the sort of storm where you prayed that the roads were still open afterwards.

“I hope…” Tamlin trailed off, because he wasn’t quite sure what to hope for. That Vassa would be understanding? That Lucien would hear him out? That they would all live happily ever after?

“Yeah,” Jurian sighed, as if he knew what Tamlin was thinking. “Me, too.”

They nodded solemnly at each other before Tamlin gathered the courage to open the door and step out into the cold.

He was braced for a storm… He just didn’t know what kind it was going to be.

Looking at Lucien now, standing in his apartment, Tamlin still wasn’t sure… but he could hope.

“Can we talk?” he asked softly.

Lucien looked like he was on the verge of tears, and Tamlin didn’t blame him. They hadn’t parted under the fondest of circumstances. “Yeah,” Lucien squeaked, then cleared his throat. “Do you… do you want to sit down, or…?”

Tamlin wet his lips. “I’ve been sitting for a while,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure when you were coming back, and I didn’t want to assume I was still welcome, so…”

“Of course you are,” Lucien declared, taking a step forward, then flinched back. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry for a lot of things. I… I shouldn’t have—”

Tamlin stopped him. “It’s okay,” he said quickly, then shook his head. “I mean, not really—” He noticed Lucien’s wince. “—But I know why you did it.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m just… I’m so fucking scared.”

Lucien’s head jerked back. “You’re scared? Why?”

Tamlin swallowed hard, then gestured to the chairs. “Maybe we should sit down,” he said hoarsely.

“Okay.” Lucien didn’t even stop to take off his coat before joining Tamlin in one of the easy chairs in front of the fire.

While Tamlin appreciated the space, he also missed sharing the same piece of furniture with his boyfriend… Come to think of it, were they still boyfriends? Or had he ruined everything by lashing out? It wouldn’t be the first time… but he couldn’t think about that now.

Tamlin took a deep breath, then braced his arms on his knees and wrung his hands and watched the flames dance through the grate.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he told Lucien quietly. “You know, about what you said, about your brother taking on my case. It’s not that I don’t want his help, but… what if no one believes me?”

“I believe you,” Lucien tried to interject, then apologized for interrupting.

Tamlin nodded sadly. “I know, but… Amarantha convinced everyone that I had a mental breakdown. She could spin this story any way she wanted. Maybe I tried drugging her and ended up drugging myself. Or… after I met her, I became obsessed, and that’s why I tried breaking into her house.”

Lucien sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “I won’t lie. There is a chance that she could try that. It doesn’t mean that it would work, but that’s just how trials go sometimes. Reasonable doubt, and all that.”

“You know what’s worse than that, though?” Tamlin murmured.

“What?”

Tamlin’s throat tightened. “What if I have a kid?” he whispered. “What if Amarantha got exactly what she wanted: A baby with blond hair and green eyes and musical ability and god knows what else. They’d be about six years old, now.”

He shook his head, because he could picture it all too well.

“If I take her to court and I lose, what’s next? Will she sue me for failing to pay child support?” he went on. “I can’t afford that. I can barely afford to take care of myself, and that’s with Jurian’s help…” He sighed. “What if she wants me to have court-ordered visitation, or even give our kid music lessons? Ugh. Even saying that makes me sick.”

He wiped his mouth. “I never wanted this. But… I don’t want my kid to feel unwanted, either.”

Lucien gave him a sad look. “Do you have any idea if Amarantha actually has a kid, or…?”

“No. I made Jurian promise that he would never tell me if he knew, or even let me find out. I mean, I’ve wondered, from time to time, because working for a private investigator makes it so easy, but… Honestly, I try not to think about it.”

Lucien just stared at him, and Tamlin dropped his head in shame.

“It sounds crazy, I know,” he muttered. “I don’t even know if this kid exists. I could be getting all worked up over nothing… Maybe I have lousy sperm, I don’t know.”

“Tam.”

The seriousness of Lucien’s tone made him pause. “What?”

Lucien cocked his head. “You don’t have lousy sperm. I promise.” He raised his eyebrows and smirked.

Tamlin stared at him, uncomprehending, then when it hit him, he covered his mouth with his hand to smother his snort. “That wasn’t supposed to make me feel better.”

Lucien’s lips still twitched even as he shrugged. “It’s true, though.”

Tamlin’s smile faded, however, and he ran a hand over his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, but… it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” Lucien said gently. “I’d be scared, too.”

Tamlin face grew warm as he stared at the tops of his shoes. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I know you were just trying to help.”

“Please. Don’t apologize—”

“No. I have to,” Tamlin insisted, and lifted his head. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Tam…” Lucien got up only to get down on his knees in front of Tamlin’s chair. With his big brown eyes gazing up at him and his auburn hair framed by firelight, he looked like a prince from a fairy tale. He placed a gentle hand on Tamlin’s knee. “I told you before, and I’ll tell you again: I’m not going anywhere.”

Tamlin blinked back sudden tears.

“I should have told you from the start,” Lucien said ruefully. “You know, about Eris taking on your case. I just thought that… Actually, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I should have known you weren’t ready for this. And you know what? It’s okay if you’re never ready. It’s okay to just move on. No matter what you decide, I’ll support you one hundred percent. I promise.”

Tamlin sniffed, and wiped his wet cheek. “You promise?”

Lucien nodded. “And if you need space, I’ll give you that, too. Whatever you want.”

Tamlin managed a deep breath, then took Lucien’s hand as he stood, pulling him to his feet. “I don’t want space,” he said quietly.

Lucien’s eyes searched his. He seemed so hopeful that Tamlin wanted to think he was already forgiven, but he had to make sure.

Still, he felt almost… shy, holding Lucien’s hand like a gawky teenager instead of the grown man that he was. Even though they had just had hot gay sex just the night before. Embarrassed about what he was about to say next, he dropped his gaze to their joined hands and whispered, “Can… can we go back to being boyfriends now?”

“Did you think we weren’t?”

Tamlin’s face flushed. “After I lost my temper, I wasn’t sure…”

Lucien squeezed his fingers. “You had every right to be mad at me,” he said gently. “And yeah, I was worried you never wanted to see me again, but… I never stopped wanting to be your boyfriend.”

“Neither did I.”

“Good.” Lucien reached up to tuck Tamlin’s hair behind his ear, then smiled when he met his gaze. “Seven hours apart is nothing,” he teased gently. “Let’s just make sure it doesn’t turn into another seven years, okay?”

Tamlin nodded, his throat strangely tight. “Okay.”

Lucien leaned in halfway, then hesitated, but Tamlin knew what he wanted, because he wanted that, too. When he brought his lips to Lucien’s mouth, their kiss was almost chaste in its softness, but it lingered in its longing.

“Thank you,” Lucien breathed, as though in prayer.

“For what,” Tamlin whispered, as though they were in a church.

“For forgiving me. For keeping secrets from you. I know I shouldn’t have…”

Tamlin sighed, and reluctantly pulled away, but not far enough away to drop Lucien’s hand. “It’s not like I haven’t been keeping secrets, too,” he admitted, albeit reluctantly.

Lucien’s lips pursed into a tight smile. “Well, you trusted me with your biggest one, and I went and told my brothers and my mom, so…”

“You told your mom?”

Lucien winced. “Yeah. Alex and I went to see her after… after what happened this morning. For what it’s worth,” he added quickly, “she’s on your side in all this. She thinks Amarantha should rot in hell, if not prison, and she said I shouldn’t have done anything behind your back, even if I meant well.”

Tamlin sighed. That was some comfort, at least. “How is she?”

“My mom? She’s good. Great, actually. Here—” Lucien dropped his hand to rush for the bags he’d dropped by the door. “—She made cookies. I hope you like gingerbread. Oh! And I got you another Christmas present. Two of them, actually. Merry Hanukkah, Tam.”

Tamlin took a half-step back as Lucien pressed three bags into his arms.

“This is all for me?” he said numbly.

“Of course!”

“But… I yelled at you…”

Lucien waved dismissively. “I bought these before that. Then afterwards, I wasn’t sure when I would be able to give them to you, so they’re not wrapped or anything—”

“Lu…”

“—I hope you don’t mind. I still have—let’s see—five gifts left to give you. Four, if you count the cookies—”

“Lucien.”

Lucien stopped, startled. “What?”

Tamlin gave him a wincing smile. “You don’t have to do this.”

Lucien’s shoulders slumped a bit. “But I want to. You’re so special to me… I just want to show you how I feel…”

Tamlin’s face flushed in shame. “I just… I don’t deserve it.”

“Sure you do—”

“No. I don’t.”

Lucien looked truly confused, and somewhat hurt, too. “Why not?”

Tamlin took a deep breath, then gently set his gifts on the chair behind him. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’ve done,” he said slowly, then wrung his hands. “I told you I had secrets, but what happened seven years ago is only part of it.”

Lucien’s eyes widened. “There’s more?”

Tamlin raised a shoulder and let it fall. “I think I’m the reason your last boyfriend broke up with you.”

Lucien looked at him askance. “Huh?”

“Well, you know I work for a private eye, right?”

“Yeah… And?”

Tamlin took a deep breath. “So about three years ago, your dad hired Jurian to take pictures of some woman who was dating one of his sons.” He made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Jesminda.’ I didn’t know she was a drag queen. He? I don’t know. I just know that I didn’t want to be involved, because I knew you, or at least I used to, and I just couldn’t face you. Even if you never saw me.”

Lucien’s brows furrowed as he crossed his arms, but he remained silent.

Tamlin had to finish his story, and quickly. “Anyway, I made Jurian do it alone, which he was pretty pissed about, but it was made worse by the fact that your dad never paid up, because the woman wasn’t actually a woman. I thought it must have been a case of mistaken identity or something, which pissed Jurian off even more because he’s actually good at what he does… but by then it was too late. I didn’t realize Jessie and Jesminda were the same person until you told me on Saturday.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “So our breakup is your fault… how?”

Tamlin blinked in surprise. “Well… I thought that—”

“That if you had taken Jessie’s pictures instead, my dad wouldn’t have realized his secret identity?” Lucien snorted. “Yeah, my dad was pissed about me dating a drag queen, but he didn’t cut me off because I’m gay. He cut me off because of how much I was spending on my boyfriend.”

“Oh.”

Lucien shrugged. “That doesn’t mean he approves of me being gay. It’d be a pretty bad look for the CEO of a major corporation to publicly come out against his gay son, when the company is all about family, so this was his secret way of punishing me.”

Tamlin winced. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” Lucien shrugged again and looked away. “Besides, Jessie could have stuck around if he wanted to, but he didn’t. And that’s not your fault, either.”

Tamlin sighed. At least that was one less thing to worry about, even if it was unfortunate.

“Is that all?”

“Is what all?”

Lucien smiled a sad half-smile. “The last of your terrible secrets? You haven’t scared me away yet, you know.”

Tamlin blew out his cheeks. “Well, there is one more,” he said hesitantly.

Lucien huffed a laugh and shook his head at the ceiling. “All right, big guy,” he said wryly. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“I’m serious.”

Lucien’s amused smile faded. “Okay.”

Tamlin took a deep breath. “It’s about Vassa.”

Lucien straightened. “What about Vassa?”

Tamlin’s heart skipped a beat. This might be the moment where he lost Lucien forever. “That day in the bookstore… I was doing surveillance.”

“Okay…”

“I didn’t know you were Vassa’s friend,” Tamlin said quickly. “I was just supposed to verify that a woman matching Vassa’s description was here in Prythian. We were hired to take pictures and send them back to some guy in Scythia. I don’t even know what he wanted with them, and it wasn’t my job to find out. But the second I saw you, I knew I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Because I was Vassa’s friend,” Lucien repeated flatly.

“Yeah,” Tamlin said, and his hopes for forgiveness wilted.

Lucien breathed out a heavy sigh, then turned and ran a hand over his hair. “This is not good.”

“I know.”

“Does Vassa know?”

Tamlin lifted his palms, then let them fall. “Jurian dropped me off before driving out to Vassa’s hotel. He was going to tell her tonight.”

“That he’s been spying on her?”

“No,” Tamlin said firmly. “He went to tell her that he won’t be spying on her. He turned down the job. This Koschei guy was willing to pay through the nose for those photos, and Jurian refused.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. We really could have used the money, too.”

Lucien looked skeptical. “All for a few lousy photos?”

“Well, not just any photos,” Tamlin said, somewhat defensively. “Photos of Vassa.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Tamlin shrugged. “I don’t know. Just photos of her standing on the street. Proof that she was in Prythian, I guess.”

“So, not like… nude…?”

Tamlin made a face. “No. Of course not. We don’t do stuff like that.”

“Oh.” Lucien scratched at his scar, looking pink, then he dropped his hand with a sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because it sounds terrible,” Tamlin declared. “The only reason I was in the bookstore that day was to do a job. And I couldn’t exactly tell you why I was there when the target was standing right next to you.”

“The target being Vassa… Not me.”

Tamlin shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah.”

Lucien blew out his cheeks and tiredly ran a hand over his hair. “I hate to say it, but I’m actually kind of disappointed,” he said with a sad chuckle.

Tamlin’s shoulders slumped. “I was afraid you would be.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I am disappointed that you felt like you had to keep all of this a secret, but… I’m more disappointed that you weren’t there for me.”

Tamlin smiled sadly. “I kind of was, though.”

“Oh?”

Tamlin shrugged. “I hung around a lot longer than I was supposed to. It was so nice hearing your voice… Watching you choose books with Vassa… I kind of thought she was your girlfriend, at first.”

Lucien snorted, and tried to hide his smile behind his hand. “Sorry. But you’re not a very good detective, are you?”

Tamlin’s face turned warm. “I never said I was. Jurian’s the detective, not me.”

Lucien’s amused smile faded. “So, you really stuck around… for me?”

Tamlin nodded. “Yeah. I don’t think I would have had the courage to say anything before you left, but… I wanted to. I was surprised at how badly I wanted to.”

“What did you want to say?”

Tamlin gestured back and forth. “‘Hey.’ ‘How’s it going?’ ‘Good to see you.’ ‘How have you been?’ ‘It’s been a long time’…” He took a deep breath and dropped his hands. “‘I missed you.’”

Lucien’s eyes glistened. “God knows how much I missed you.”

Tamlin managed a smile, though it was a teary one. “I wish I could have told you… under different circumstances.”

Lucien nodded sadly. “Me, too,” he murmured, then took a deep breath. “So, really? You’re not going to turn in Vassa’s photos?”

“We never took any.”

“Good. That’s good.” Lucien nodded distractedly. “Now, what did you say that guy’s name was? Koschei?”

“Yeah, Koschei. Why? Do you know him?”

“No. Vassa just told me she was on the run from some pretty bad guys, and she needed a quiet place to stay and lay low for a while.”

Tamlin blanched. “She’s on the run? Really?”

Lucien nodded grimly. “She didn’t want to tell me, but I did ask. You know how nosy I am.”

Tamlin winced. “You were just being a good friend.”

“A good friend wouldn’t have asked in the first place,” Lucien countered, then he sighed. “Anyway, I don’t know all the details, but she’s safe now. She’s staying in a hotel under my name until she can find more permanent arrangements. It’s the least I could do, since we knew each other from before.”

“When she drank you under the table back in college,” Tamlin remembered.

Lucien rolled his eyes skyward before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am going to kill Alex for telling you that,” he muttered.

Tamlin bit back a chuckle, then his smile faded. “I didn’t know you and Vassa were so close,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the job, but… I couldn’t. Besides, she was just a name on a piece of paper to me, back then. She’s not now, obviously, but for all I knew, this guy Koschei just wanted to find her so that he could get his stuff back. You know, like a bad breakup. Who gets to keep the hoodie, and all that.”

Lucien cocked his head. “A hoodie? Really?”

Tamlin spread his hands wide. “You would not believe some of the things people try to hire us for. It gets weird.”

Lucien breathed a laugh, then sighed and shook his head. “I guess I can’t blame you for trying to do your job,” he said quietly.

“It was just a job,” Tamlin agreed. “Until it wasn’t.”

Lucien nodded, looking thoughtful. “I guess it all worked out in the end, anyway,” he mused. “Out of all the private eyes in the city, Koschei picked the ones who actually have a conscience.”

“Hey, we’re not all sleazy,” Tamlin joked, then grew serious. “Jurian really does care for her, you know. In case you were wondering.”

“I didn’t wonder,” Lucien said gently. “But you know, if nothing else, I’m glad she has someone else to talk to. Scythian isn’t the most common language around here.”

“That’s why Koschei hired us,” Tamlin agreed. “Well, he hired Jurian, I mean. I’m just the assistant.”

Lucien smirked. “His cute assistant.”

Tamlin blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Koschei doesn’t know what I look like.”

“That’s too bad,” Lucien teased. “You might get a lot more business if people knew what a good-looking guy you are… Then again, maybe it’s better that they don’t.”

Tamlin blushed deeper, though he smiled. “Yeah, it kinda defeats the purpose of being a private eye, otherwise.”

“Yeah,” Lucien murmured.

They stood in silence for a moment, listening to the crackle of the flames, but it was not an uncomfortable silence.

“You know,” Tamlin mused. “If it hadn’t been for this job, I never would have gone into that bookstore that day. Who knows when we might have seen each other again?”

“I mean, you had the chance three years ago, when I was with Jessie,” Lucien began, then stopped himself. “But you weren’t ready to see me, yet… I guess.”

“And you were dating someone else,” Tamlin reminded him.

Lucien nodded and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. “Yeah, I was,” he murmured.

The silence was not as comfortable this time.

After a long pause, Tamlin offered shyly, “If it had to happen, I’m kind of glad it happened this way. Even if Koschei was responsible for making it happen.”

Lucien nodded slowly. “How about we give Vassa the credit for this one,” he said thoughtfully. “When we tell people the story of how we met, and met again, let’s just say it’s because of Vassa.”

Tamlin’s head jerked back in surprise. “You want to tell people the story of how we met?”

Lucien smiled. “Of course. Isn’t that what boyfriends do?”

Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, Tamlin threw his arms around Lucien and held him tight.

“Whoa. Hey,” Lucien said with a surprised chuckle. “You okay, there, Tam?”

Tamlin nodded and buried his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder as Lucien’s arms slid around him. “I didn’t think you’d ever forgive me for this,” he mumbled. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Lucien gave him a firm squeeze, then pulled away to look into his eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said kindly. “You were just doing your job. And, hey, at least no one got hurt.”

“Yeah, I’m really glad about that,” Tamlin said, relaxing at last. “Jurian even found someone else who wants to look into this whole Koschei business. But don’t tell anyone,” he added, wincing.

Lucien merely chuckled, and his eyes twinkled. “Don’t worry. I won’t,” he promised, then stepped back and gently poked him. “But speaking of secrets, do you have anything else you want to get off your chest? Because now would be the time.”

Tamlin huffed a laugh. “I’m pretty sure that’s everything.”

“Are you sure?” Lucien teased. “You didn’t forget that you’re secretly a werewolf or something, did you?”

Tamlin blushed. “I guess you’ll have to wait until the full moon to find out,” he said shyly.

Lucien’s eyebrows rose at his playfulness. “That’s this weekend!” he remarked. “How do you expect me to sleep until then?”

Tamlin ducked his head to try to hide his grin, but failed. “If you have silver, I think you’ll be safe.”

“Mm, I much prefer gold,” Lucien said with a wink. “But they say that music will tame the savage beast, so—” He reached behind Tamlin for the shopping bags. “—how about a song, maestro?”

Bemusedly, Tamlin accepted the bags and reached inside. “New strings,” he murmured in awe. “And rosin.” He unscrewed the cap and breathed in the sweetly familiar scent. “Oh, it smells like a Christmas tree,” he sighed.

“It does?” Lucien dipped his nose toward the small container, then made a face as he jerked away. “If you say so.”

Tamlin chuckled. “I mean, I wouldn’t wear it as cologne or anything…”

“Thank god,” Lucien muttered, rubbing his nose.

Tamlin grinned. “But I like it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Lucien said, smiling back. “Just let me know if you need anything else for your violin, okay? If I’m going to survive until this weekend, I need to keep you happy.”

“I am happy,” Tamlin said warmly. He set his gifts aside and dusted off his hands and looked at the tree. Their tree. “I can’t remember a better Christmas,” he murmured. “Not since my mom died.”

“Well, Christmas isn’t here yet, and we’ve still got Hanukkah,” Lucien said, trying to keep his voice light, but Tamlin could tell he was truly touched. “I’m glad I get to spend it with you.”

“Me, too.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, until Lucien loosened the top button of his coat. “So…”

“So,” Tamlin echoed.

As Lucien worked his way down the buttons, he asked, “What do you want to do now?”

Tamlin shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I wasn’t sure what was going to happen tonight. I knew I could always get a cab if things didn’t work out, but…”

“But they did,” Lucien pointed out.

“Yeah, they did,” Tamlin said with a relieved smile.

“So, it’s just going to be us tonight?” Lucien said, finally shrugging off his coat.

Tamlin found himself blushing again. “Yeah. I mean, unless you think another one of your brothers is going to drop by,” he said shyly.

“Oh, god, I hope not,” Lucien moaned, walking to the closet. “I love them, but I have plans tonight, thank you very much,” he declared, hanging up his coat.

Tamlin blinked. “Oh, you do?”

“Yep.” Lucien closed the closet door with a flourish, then leaned against it. “And they all start with You.”

“‘U’ as in underwear, or…?”

Lucien laughed as Tamlin realized his mistake, and stepped forward. “God, I love you.”

Tamlin’s breath caught and Lucien paused as they both realized what he had just admitted, but Lucien laughed it off.

“You know,” Lucien added quickly, scratching at his scar. “The Scythian way.”

Tamlin nodded. He was blushing so hard, he had broken into a sweat. Or maybe it was because he was standing too close to the fireplace. Not that he was willing to move away. Not now. “Come here,” he told Lucien softly, nodding him over.

Looking almost shy, his boyfriend crossed the room to join him.

“I want to tell you something,” Tamlin said, feeling shy himself.

“More secrets?” Lucien said teasingly, but he was blushing. He was actually blushing.

Tamlin nodded. “Just one more.”

“Okay,” Lucien said softly. He seemed to be quivering.

Tamlin took a deep breath, then he smiled. “I love you, too.”

Lucien’s lips parted in surprise.

When he didn’t speak, Tamlin added, “You know, the Prythian way,” only half-teasing.

Lucien smiled slowly, but it was a pleased smile. “Is that different from the Scythian way?” he teased back.

Tamlin tried, but he couldn’t contain his grin. “Very.”

“How so?”

Tamlin wet his lips. “Well, for one thing…” he said, then slipped his hand around Lucien’s neck and kissed him. Lucien’s hands slid around Tamlin’s waist and pulled him closer, leaving Tamlin’s hands free to slide through Lucien’s hair as he kissed him, and then kissed him again.

Lucien’s breath was hot against his mouth when they parted. “I think I like the Prythian way,” he murmured, breathing hard. “It leaves no room for interpretation.”

“Yeah,” Tamlin agreed, breathing hard himself. “I think so, too.”

Lucien’s hands clung to Tamlin’s sweater as he sighed, then he pressed his forehead against Tamlin’s. “I want to say it back, but I don’t want to sound like I’m just saying it back,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” Tamlin tried to say, but Lucien pulled away to shake his head.

“No. I mean it,” he said. His eyes shone bright in the firelight. “I’ve loved you for a long time. I think I always have. And even if you don’t want me to, I think I always will.”

Tamlin cradled Lucien’s face between his hands, and stroked his cheeks with his thumbs. “Now I’m the one who doesn’t want to sound like I’m just saying it back,” he said with a shy laugh, trying to keep his emotions under control.

Lucien wrapped his hands around Tamlin’s wrists and simply smiled, but he looked like he was trying to hold back tears, too.

Tamlin swallowed. “So, how do you say ‘Me, too’ in Scythian?”

Lucien laughed tearily, then grabbed Tamlin’s face and kissed him. Between kisses, Lucien taught him the proper phrase, then kissed him again when he got it right.

“Not bad,” Lucien teased when they parted.

Tamlin blushed. “What can I say? I had a pretty good teacher.”

Lucien grinned, then wrapped his arms around him and kissed him again.

You’re amazing.

I love you, and I always will.

Me, too.

* * *

Lucien was too contented to move. Not that he wanted to.

His head was resting against Tamlin’s bare chest, and rising and falling with each slow, steady breath. Tamlin’s fingers were lazily curling the ends of his hair, and he could hear the gentle thumping of his boyfriend’s heartbeat right below his ear.

There was another movie about dinosaurs eating people playing on TV, but the volume was on low. Since they’d already missed the first half, he wasn’t paying close attention.

Then, his stomach rumbled again, and Tamlin must have heard it this time, because he chuckled.

“Was that you, or the TV?” he murmured, still stroking Lucien’s hair.

Lucien reluctantly lifted his head to look into his boyfriend’s eyes. “That was me,” he said in a lazy drawl, then smirked. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat,” Tamlin mused, then moved his fingers to brush a stray hair from Lucien’s forehead. His thumbnail gently traced the scar above Lucien’s eyebrow.

Lucien rested his chin against Tamlin’s chest. “What?”

Tamlin slowly shook his head, looking thoughtful. “Just… thinking about luck, I guess.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” Lucien murmured, then pressed a firm kiss against Tamlin’s sternum. “Sit tight. I’ll be back with some sustenance shortly.”

Tamlin sighed as he pulled away, then tucked his arm beneath his head as he watched Lucien reach for his pajama bottoms. “Hey, aren’t those mine?”

Lucien chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, fastening the top button with a playful smirk. “I could wear mine, but… yours were closer.”

Tamlin smiled as Lucien slipped his arms into the unbuttoned pajama shirt. “Green looks good on you,” he observed. “Maybe I should get you a matching set for Christmas.”

Lucien grinned, then braced his hands on the mattress to lean in. “Didn’t I ever tell you?” he said softly. “I don’t wear pajamas.”

Tamlin’s bemused smile turned slack in shock. “What?”

Lucien chuckled, then kissed the corner of his stunned mouth. “You were so shy when you first spent the night, I didn’t want to scare you away,” he explained playfully, then straightened to button the center button. He flicked up his eyebrows. “But I always sleep naked.”

He left Tamlin lying speechless on the bed while he laughed his way into the living room.

By the time his bare feet hit the cold kitchen tile, though, his thoughts had already turned to food. He opened the refrigerator door and squinted against the cool white light, but it illuminated little in the way of leftovers. There was still some of Tamlin’s homemade chicken soup left, but that wasn’t the sort of food to take to bed. There were some ingredients, like eggs, blueberries, milk… Hmm. Alex hadn’t eaten all of the pancakes, so at least that was an option… albeit a sticky one. Not entirely out of the question, though…

“Find anything good?” Tamlin called out as he walked into the living room.

“Mm, maybe,” Lucien called back, frowning.

Distantly, something crinkled, then Tamlin’s voice came closer. “How about these?”

Lucien’s eyes took a moment to adjust as Tamlin stepped into the dim kitchen. Something crinkled again, something cellophane, and Lucien straightened with a smile.

“Oh, yeah! My mom’s gingerbread cookies,” he remembered happily, and began to close the refrigerator door. “Those are perfect—ly hot. What are you wearing?”

The cool light revealed Tamlin’s shy smirk as he gestured to himself. “I thought it was only fair.”

“Fair?” Lucien echoed, looking him over. He was wearing Lucien’s gray sweatpants, and a snug white tank top that clung to his defined pecs and showed off his muscular arms. “I don’t think it’s fair that you look better in my clothes than I do,” he complained.

Tamlin chuckled and lightly tossed the bag of cookies up in the air. “You want me to take them off?”

“Not yet,” Lucien said, drinking in the sight of him.

Tamlin stepped closer, still smiling. “You’re letting all the cold air out, you know,” he murmured.

“I know,” Lucien said in a low voice. “But I’ll pay the bill if it means keeping my wits about you. I’m starving.”

Tamlin chuckled. “Here,” he said, handing him the bag. “Have a cookie. Let me take a look.”

Lucien accepted it without a word, and mindlessly removed the colorful ribbon as Tamlin bent down to look inside the refrigerator.

“Hmm. You really don’t eat in much, do you?”

“I don’t cook much,” Lucien reminded him, taking a bite of spiced gingerbread as he tilted his head and admired the way the tank top clung to his boyfriend’s muscular form.

“All you really need is a good loaf of bread and some great condiments,” Tamlin said, straightening. “Butter. Jam. Cheese. Pickles…”

Lucien grimaced as he swallowed. “Not in the same sandwich, I hope.”

Tamlin chuckled again, and tucked his loose hair behind his ear. “No. But sometimes it’s nice to have something with your coffee in the morning.”

“Mmm. Pickles and coffee. My favorite.”

Tamlin rolled his eyes. “You’re such an ass,” he snorted, then closed the refrigerator door, plunging them into darkness. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know I am,” Lucien said as Tamlin reopened the refrigerator.

“I meant the lights.”

“Oh, so, I’m not an ass?”

“Oh, no. You still are,” Tamlin said, smirking.

“You’re so romantic.”

Tamlin snorted again. “If I were really romantic, I’d light some candles, but I guess the overhead light will have to do.” He moved away from the open refrigerator door. “There’s a switch around here somewhere…”

“Don’t. I’ll go blind,” Lucien begged, then pressed the cookie bag against Tamlin’s chest as he stumbled over to the stove. Click. Soft, warm light illuminated the marble countertops without flooding the entire room. “There,” he said, smiling in relief. “That will do until I can rustle up some proper candles,” he joked.

Tamlin closed the refrigerator door without commenting. His head was bent over the open bag to inhale the fragrant scent of fresh gingerbread cookies. “I can’t remember the last time I had some of these,” he murmured.

Lucien nibbled on his own cookie as he walked over to join him. “You can have the rest of them, if you want,” he offered. “I know my mom would be happy to make some more for you. It’s kind of her thing.”

Tamlin smiled wistfully, then shook his head and held out the bag. “I’d rather share. I don’t want you to starve, after all.” His eyes twinkled.

Lucien smirked. “Now I remember why I came in here,” he teased, and took another cookie. “Sustenance.”

He was pleased to see a warm blush steal across Tamlin’s cheeks, even in the dim light.

As Tamlin took a cookie for himself, he murmured, “Is it always going to be like this?”

“What?”

Tamlin took a small bite before answering. “You know,” he said shyly. “The sex. The snacks. The jokes afterwards.”

“I hope so,” Lucien said honestly, and wiped the crumbs from his mouth. “Because there’s no one else I’d rather have snacks with in the middle of the night… Even if you do look better in my pajamas than I do.”

Tamlin chuckled. “You don’t wear pajamas, remember?” he teased.

Lucien’s eyebrows rose. “You’re right. I don’t.” He unbuttoned the single button, then shrugged off the satin shirt as Tamlin watched him with widening eyes. He shivered but tried to hide it as he set the shirt on the nearby counter, then placed his hands on his hips. “All right,” he declared, tossing his head to shake the loose hair from his eyes. “Your turn.”

Tamlin’s gaze had been slowly traveling downwards, then he snapped to attention. “Me?”

Lucien put on a brave smirk. “It’s only fair.”

Tamlin looked at him askance, but at least he smiled. “I didn’t ask you to take off your shirt.”

“It’s your shirt,” Lucien countered. “Besides,” he added, gesturing to the room. “Are you really going to leave me standing around half-naked in a cold, dark kitchen all by myself?”

Tamlin’s bemused smile grew wider. “You’re serious.”

“About sex? Absolutely.”

Tamlin pointed at the floor. “Right here?”

“Right now. If you want to,” Lucien added quickly.

Tamlin bit his lip as he considered this. “Okay.”

Lucien’s insides suddenly fluttered as he watched Tamlin set aside the bag to reach for the hem of his tank top. In one smooth, easy motion, he peeled it up and over his head. He shook his long blond hair free, then let out a quivering breath as he set the garment aside.

“It’s, uh, kind of cold in here,” he said softly. Shyly.

“Yeah,” Lucien breathed. Tamlin’s nipples were already hard and erect, as were his own. As were other things.

They were each clad in a single bottom layer, which Lucien was acutely aware of as Tamlin came closer. “It’s your turn,” he murmured.

“I guess it is,” Lucien whispered, sliding one arm around Tamlin’s waist as he backed them up against the counter. The cold marble bit into the bare flesh of his hip, and he flinched away. “Um…”

“Oh. Maybe if we, uh…”

“Yeah. There’s a towel in that drawer if you want to… um…”

“Did you want to turn around, or kneel down, or…?”

They both glanced at the pathetically small rug at their feet, then burst out laughing. As they clung to each other for support, Lucien was glad to feel how blissfully warm Tamlin’s chest was against his own.

He ran his hands down the muscles of Tamlin’s back and sighed. “Maybe sex on the kitchen floor in the middle of December wasn’t such a hot idea,” he mused, then kissed Tamlin’s shoulder.

“Maybe not,” Tamlin murmured. “But I hear sex by the fireplace can be pretty hot.” His lips grazed Lucien’s ear.

“Mmm… I hear bed sex is pretty hot, too,” Lucien murmured, trailing slow, lazy kisses up Tamlin’s neck.

Tamlin turned his head to look into his eyes, then his gaze drifted down to Lucien’s mouth. “As long as it’s with you, anywhere will do,” he said, then kissed him. Flecks of spice still clung to his lips.

When they parted, Lucien let out a rough exhale. “Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

They never did make it to the fireplace. Or the bed, for that matter. With their pants pooled around their ankles on the cold tile floor, it made it hard to walk very far. Not that they needed to.

“I take it back,” Lucien panted, bracing his sweat-slicked arms against the cool marble countertop. “That was pretty fucking hot.”

“Yeah.” Tamlin’s breathing in his ear was as ragged as his own.

Lucien let out a weak chuckle when he didn’t continue. “You’re so poetic.”

“I’ll write you a limerick next time,” Tamlin said, then pressed his lips against Lucien’s shoulder. “That was intense.”

“You’re telling me,” Lucien agreed breathlessly, then turned to face him. “That was… wow.”

Tamlin braced his hands on either side of him. “Now who’s poetic?” he teased, still breathing hard.

“Roses are red, violets are blue,” Lucien quipped, then slipped his hands around his neck and kissed him.

“Mm. That’s not a limerick, but it will do,” Tamlin finished, smiling.

Lucien gave him a bemused smile. “Hey, that was pretty good.”

“Give me a minute to think of something that rhymes with ‘good’, and I’ll keep going,” Tamlin said, sighing as he stepped out of his fallen clothes, then pushed himself away to go to the sink. After washing his hands, he brought a towel to Lucien. “Here. For your manhood,” he said, half-joking, which made Lucien laugh.

“God, you’re good to me,” Lucien said as Tamlin began cleaning him up.

“Not as good as you are to me,” Tamlin said softly. His words were as gentle as his touch.

Lucien’s chest suddenly tightened with emotion. “Here. Hand me another towel,” he rasped. “Let me do you.”

“Oh, um… That was the last one,” Tamlin said regretfully. “Maybe this would be easier in the shower,” he suggested.

“Yeah, maybe,” Lucien said, freeing his ankles from the confines of Tamlin’s pants, but he stayed where he was. “I’ve been meaning to buy more towels anyway, but I never had a good reason.”

Tamlin said nothing, but continued gently wiping the single warm towel against Lucien’s bare skin.

Lucien took a deep, though trembling breath. “I need to buy a new rug, too. Maybe one of those thick foam ones that are good for your feet. Would you like that?”

Tamlin nodded slowly. “That would be nice.”

“And matching aprons,” Lucien continued. “And good bread, and… and condiments…”

Tamlin chuckled and moved away to rinse the cloth in the sink. “You make it sound almost kinky.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Lucien said ruefully, watching Tamlin wring out the cloth. “I just want the kitchen to feel like it’s yours as much as it does mine.”

Tamlin paused and smiled bemusedly. “What do you mean?”

Lucien’s tongue felt strangely thick, but he somehow managed to say, “I want you to move in with me.”

Tamlin stared at him. “What?”

“You and me… I want us to live together.”

Tamlin was so stunned, he dropped the cloth in the sink. “You mean, like… all the time?”

“Yeah,” Lucien said, suddenly feeling shy, and not just because he was naked. “I mean, if you want to.”

Tamlin looked truly taken aback as his hand drifted to his neck, as if he, too, were suddenly and acutely aware of being naked in the middle of the kitchen. At least they were on the same footing, in that regard.

“Well? Do you want to?” Lucien asked hesitantly.

Tamlin laughed in amazement and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just can’t believe that… Wow. You really want me to move in? Just like that?”

Lucien shrugged. “I mean, it will probably take a few days to get you settled, but… yeah.”

“Even though we just had sex?”

“Especially because we just had sex,” Lucien said, half-teasing. “Why? Do you think I’ll change my mind?”

Tamlin bit his lip. It was clear that was exactly what he thought. “It’s just… what if we fight again?”

“Then I’ll sleep on the couch,” Lucien quipped.

Tamlin laughed, then shyly dropped his gaze to massage his palms. When he didn’t speak, Lucien moved closer.

“Hey,” he said gently. “If it’s too soon, you can tell me. I know most people wait six months or more until they move in together… But you and me, we’re not like most people. We first moved in together before we knew each other’s first names, remember?”

That made Tamlin chuckle, which made Lucien smile.

“If you want to wait, I’m okay with that,” he said softly. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Tamlin met his gaze. “Okay.”

Lucien’s heart skipped a beat. “Okay?”

Tamlin nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Yes. Or whatever it is you say to a proposal like that. To move in together, I mean,” he said, blushing.

Lucien smiled a slow, hopeful smile. “You mean it?”

“I do.”

Lucien grinned, then seized Tamlin’s face and kissed him. “I love you,” he said between kisses.

“I love you,” Tamlin echoed in Scythian.

As their mouths rejoined, their arms slid around each other and closed the gap between them. Tamlin’s skin was cool to the touch from standing in the open kitchen for so long, something Lucien intended to remedy, and soon.

“Something tells me we’re not going to get any sleep tonight,” Lucien said as they slowly made their way into the living room.

“Something tells me you’re right,” Tamlin murmured. He paused when their feet touched the carpet. “I think I feel something coming on. I better call off work tomorrow.”

“Good idea. Then we can finally play Doctor.”

Tamlin chuckled. “I guess it’s a good thing I made chicken soup.”

Lucien grinned. “It’s a very good thing. You know, I’m starting to feel a little feverish myself.”

“Oh, no. What’s the remedy for that?”

Lucien pulled him close. “A hot shower and lots of bed rest.”

“Mm… I don’t know how much rest we’ll get, but that sounds pretty good to me.”

Lucien smiled as he leaned in. “Me, too.”

When they parted, Tamlin whispered, “Hey, Doc?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think I’ll be feeling better by this weekend? I’ve actually got plans, so…”

Lucien blinked. “Oh… You do?”

There was a smile in Tamlin’s voice when he replied, “Yeah. I’m moving in with my boyfriend.”

Lucien kissed him again. He couldn’t help it. “I’ll make sure you’re all better,” he murmured. “But I’ll get you some silver, too, just to be safe.”

“Silver? Why?”

“Just in case you turn into a werewolf.”

Tamlin pulled away and sighed and shook his head. “Something tells me you’d be into that.”

“Something tells me you’re absolutely right,” Lucien declared, then led his boyfriend into the bedroom.

[wildlyglittering]

Silver In Her Eyes - Part Seven

Hello All!

Here is the last part (part seven) of what is the first quarter of Silver In Her Eyes. I've hoped you've enjoyed it so far!

I'm taking a break from Silver as life is getting in the way, I don't know when I will be picking this back up. I do hope it won't be too long.

Please show this some love on Tumblr or Ao3!

Silver In Her Eyes - Chapter 7 - writinginthedust - A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas [Archive of Our Own]#

For the first time in her life, Feyre wanted Nesta.

Mor would have once been her first choice but there was an ache at the thought of her friends knowing and conferring, conspiring about her life. She’d saved them, but they hadn’t given her the option to save herself.

Elain was in Spring. Not, as Feyre had first been told to build a relationship with Lucien under Rhys’ cautious eye, but to be used as bribery. To get Lucien to convince Tamlin to ally with the Night Court.

Feyre wouldn’t have wanted her anyway. Elain would have been too distraught, too emotional.

Rhys...

Feyre couldn’t think about Rhys.

This wasn’t a case of love. Rhys loved Feyre. This was because Nesta respected Feyre enough to tell her the truth, she who understood that Feyre had a right to her own life, her own choices.

Something newly uncomfortable now lived in Feyre.

Her eldest sister had been torn from her bed, thrown into the Cauldron and then subjected to war after war in a newly formed body. Then, when all was over and Nesta was a shaking mess drinking and fucking her way through Velaris, Feyre had made decisions on her behalf.

They’d worked out, hadn’t they? In the end?

Like a worm in an apple, doubts niggled in Feyre’s mind.

Nesta came when called.

“I’ll do it in here,” Feyre said, as they stood amongst the too white, too bright marble of the bathroom. “There may be blood. I don’t know if there will be blood, there may be lots of-”

Nesta’s fingers pushed between hers as she rambled, Nesta’s cool dry palm against Feyre’s hot slick one and her sister gave her hand a squeeze. Firm but gentle, saying I am here without words.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Nesta said, her voice quiet. She held no rage anymore, just an infinite sadness.

“I need to do this,” Feyre said. “I swore an oath to protect the people of the Night Court. Love takes many forms.”

If she didn’t try to shift into Illyrian form, then her inevitable last breath would start a chain of disaster and death for everyone, including her son if he survived beyond her. If she lived while Nyx died then part of Feyre would be dead anyway. Of all the sacrifices she’d made, this was the one which tore through her.

As though she was in a dream, Feyre stepped into the bathroom, insider her body and strangely outside it too. Her feet were bare and cold against the stone, the fortresses up in her mind lest Rhys discovered what she was doing and tried to stop her.

Feyre sat on the floor on a sheet with Nesta opposite, waiting and watchful. Before she closed her eyes, she saw Nesta’s mouth move as she uttered a prayer.

Then nothing else. Her own breath, Nyx fluttering inside her, as though he was remembering all the words she had spoken to him the previous evening. She held onto the love she had for him, hoping she could wrap him tight in a blanket of it, to protect him from what might happen next.

That will never go my darling. That love will always be for you.

Feyre nudged her body until her bones cracked and her skin stretched, until wings unfurled on her back and her stomach changed shape, shifting and accommodating the small body within. Feyre expected pain but none came, just a sharp discomfort of talons pressing against an organ and then – nothing. No agony, no tangy scent, or trickle of blood.

Had he disappeared from the world like a whisper? Never existing until one second after conception but now in the reverse. Gone like a raindrop in the ocean.

Her hands hovered before her, too scared to touch her own belly to feel flatness.

“Feyre,” said Nesta, her voice light, hopeful. “Look.”

Feyre’s eyes opened and she glanced down. Her belly was the same, round and protruding, the fabric straining over the burgeoning shape. She pushed down and there it was, the press of Nyx’s foot, at first gentle and then more belligerent, kicking against his own mother’s hand.

I am here.

The pinch of continual pain Feyre had felt throughout the pregnancy and believed normal was now absent, leaving behind only comfort.

A sob from her throat turned into a peel of laughter as Nyx’s kicks grew with enthusiasm at the new space he found himself in. Feyre splayed her palms over her stomach, calling out his name over and over before she called out another.

“Rhys,” she exclaimed with joy, “I need to tell Rhys.” But Nesta must have slipped from the room because when Feyre looked up, her sister was gone.

***

Amren had folded in on herself; hunched over, skin pale. There were more streaks of silver in her hair than black and lines were deeply etched on her face. When Rhys arrived, she was sat in a chair facing a window overlooking the brilliant turquoise sea of Summer, a thick blanket wrapped around her legs despite the heat.

Rhys wondered if her hearing had diminished, that she hadn’t heard his name being announced. Even when he drew closer, she didn’t greet him, her eyes remaining transfixed ahead. Only when he stepped into view did she glance up.

“I’m glad Feyre is safe,” she told him, “I will forever live with the guilt that I couldn’t break the pact. I’m glad you’re safe too.”

“Thank you,” he said, setting into the chair placed beside her. “Though it’s not how I wanted things to go.” His words grew clipped, “I’m not pleased that Nes-”

There was a noise from Amren. “It’s done now,” she held up her hand, cutting him off. “Look to the future and be happy.”

Rhys bit the inside of his cheek, drawing blood into his mouth. “Yes, well," he gritted out, "I came to see how you are, and ask when you’d be returning to Velaris. We miss you.”

Amren’s laugh was brittle and her chest rattled. “Who’s left to miss me? Don’t you have everyone scattered about?”

Rhys’ turned to look at Amren, irritated that she refused to look back at him, that she stared straight ahead at the landscape beyond. “They will return. The battle may be over but I need to win the war.”

“Well, you will. With your allies and Illyrian soldiers. And the Made weapons of course - if you decide to share them.”

His heart leapt in his chest; he didn’t recall discussing the blades with Amren. “How do you know about those?”

“I still have ears in Night.”

“Cassian then,” Rhys said, curling his lip. “He’s become very loose lipped in recent weeks.”

“No. Not Cassian.”

“Who?”

Amren waved her hand again, discarding his question. She closed her eyes and settled back down into her chair, drawing her blanket closer to her chest. “Doesn’t matter. I may be weak but I’m not without any power.”

Rhys breathed air in through his nose willing his jaw to loosen. Pressing Amren and coming close to losing his temper with her in Summer of all Courts was a sure way to break some allies. It had taken long enough to secure Tamlin and, in the end, he was only swayed by Lucien’s pleas.

Lucien himself had to be cowed by Elain’s doe eyed presence when Rhys carted her before him.

“Come back to the city,” he said, keeping his voice jovial, “bring those astute ears back home.”

Amren shook her head. “My bones hurt and Night is too dark, too cold. Varian ensures I’m well looked after and Summer is providing the restorative effect I need. I crave the light.”

“Plenty of light in the House of Wind.” The sun glinted across the waves in their view. “You’ll find it emptier these days. You could move Varian in.”

Amren turned her head to look at him, slow and cautious, eyes narrowed. “And where have all the occupants gone?”

So, her ears only went so far. That was good to know. Now it was Rhys’ turn to wave his hand. “That doesn’t matter. Say you’ll return.”

Amren took a breath in, her hands curling on the armrest of her chair belying the tension even though she casually rested her head back and closed her eyes. Rhys noted four missing fingers. “No, I don’t want to.”

The hold on his temper was loosening. “You’re a member of the Night Court,” he spat, “a sworn member of the Inner Circle and my second in command, so I command you to come back.”

“You think demands will call me back?” She laughed. “I know why you want me back and its nothing to do with missing me. Feyre will live, as will Nyx - thank the Mother - but the death pact between you and her leaves them vulnerable. Feyre could still be a target for enemies who want to wipe you out.”

"You’re wrong,” Rhys said, knowing Amren saw through his lie. “I’m moving to the final stage of our plan. We will destroy Keir and his allies. He’s secured less Illyrian camps then he thinks and though he has Beron, Eris is now ours.”

Amren raised an eyebrow. “And you think the male who would betray his father wouldn’t betray you?”

“He won’t. He had demands. Demands which can now be met.”

A frown creased over Amren’s face making her look as ancient as she was. An eye opened, a glint of silver glaring at him. “If you mean Nesta, I would advise you exhibit caution in handing her over like some winning prize. No one knows what she can do-”

“What she could do. She’s a candle burnt to the end.” He tucked what Amren had said away. Only Mor knew Eris’ request regarding  Nesta. Between this and Amren knowing about the Made weapons, Rhys would have to look closer at his cousin.

Amren shook her head. “If that is the case, then let her live in peace. She once wanted a cottage outside the city where she could be alone. Allow her to have that life. Allow Cassian to have it with her.”

“No,” Rhys said, shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t? It would lose you Eris, is that what you think? We can convince him to take a different route, one that doesn’t involve trading the future of another.”

Rhys clutched his fist to his chest. “Is that what you think of me? That I would treat my mate’s sister in such a way? It would be dangerous for Nesta to live outside the city. If something were to happen, how could I look Feyre in the eye and tell her harm had befallen her sister?”

Footsteps sounded across the marble floor. Rhys could see Varian approach, either to remove Rhys or take Amren away.

Amren looked past Rhys; her face softening a fraction as she saw who was coming towards her. When she looked back to Rhys, it had hardened again and for a moment she was the Amren of before – young and sharp and dangerous.

“It’s easy of course,” she said with a false sweetness, “clutch her hands, put on your most pathetic expression and tell her there is no danger and never will be. After all, you’re the most brilliant High Lord, the most trustworthy. She’ll believe you in everything.”

Varian breezed past Rhys without acknowledgement, his hands going to two handles on the back of Amren’s chair Rhys hadn’t previously noticed.

Varian said nothing, neither did Amren, as they left the room leaving Rhys alone with the endless bright blue sky.

[wellthebardsdead]

Aurorwren: *feathers hackling up on his wings and in his hair as he spots cacao pods being sold by the khajiit* by the gods- oh gods is it really?

Taliesin: what is it- and he’s gone.

Aurorwren: *suddenly comes back literally flying in loops before landing holding the seeds* COCOOOOO!!!!!!

Taliesin: *never seen him this aggressively excited before* um? Yes, we turn it into chocolate I bel-

Aurorwren: you don’t understand! I need to make you hot coco!! Then you’ll understand!

Taliesin: B-birdie you’re scaring me.

*several hours later*

Kaidan: *sipping the drink* I mean it tastes good. Not too bitter not too sweet.

Inigo: I can only taste the honey in mine.

Taliesin: I think I’d prefer just chocolate if I’m honest.

Lucien: I always wondered why the Ayleids prized this beverage so much. And… I can see why.

Aurorwren: *splayed out by the fire, visibly intoxicated after a few mugs of the warming beverage* soooo gooooood~

Lucien: It’s practically alcoholic to them.

Aurorwren: *hiccups*

[grayintogreen]

WIP WEDNESDAY

It's Wippy Wednesday, my dudes. And it's a YCDHN week, so here's a juicy little snippet from Chapter 43.

-

The solution to wizard problems being more wizards was both a phenomenally terrible idea and somehow the only sensible one being offered. Most of the protests came from the actual party wizards who believed that no one, upon being awoken from centuries of stasis, would willingly fight in a war they had no stake in.

“But they would fight mage killers in their territory,” Lucien had grinned over their shoulders and that had shut up the debate on Essek’s end. Caleb had dragged his fingers through his hair and wandered off to pace.

The trouble was that these bubbles were resistant to average dispels. Even Cree couldn’t unravel the threads with hemocraft. Time was of the essence and they were violently throwing themselves at the one solution that still had caveats. This would work if they could break the bubbles and that if was becoming a dangerous gamble.

Lucien kept going back to the one in the center of the Viventum ward- the blonde wizard and her gaggle of frightened children. She was the one who would give them help, he knew that, felt it deep in his soul. The lone unselfish wizard who hadn’t tried to just save herself. He placed his palm on the bubble again and stared through the shimmering dome as if there was a secret hidden within no one had noticed.

The goggles around his neck felt strangely warm, drawing his attention. Mithril always ran cold even when warmed by his furnace-hot skin so for it to increase so noticeably in temperature was something to be regarded. He chewed on his bottom lip and slipped the goggles over his eyes.

What are you telling me? He adjusted the dials around the eyepiece, reaching through the connection he had with the Vestige. Click, click, click. Stop. He could feel it, a niggling in the back of his mind, like the hand of Danoth Oro, the man who had invented them and had his work exalted into the realm of legend, was whispering in his ear. No god had touched this Vestige, only a clever mortal who wanted to see the world that was hidden and prevent people from taking advantage of him with magic.

You’re a worthy successor, you keen-eyed scoundrel, the voice seemed to say. Use it for what matters to you.

Not use it for good. Of course not. Lucien was never going to be good. He was going to be better. This was a kindness he was doing, but it was also genuinely useful to him and no one ever said he couldn’t have it both ways. There was no shame in having an ulterior motive operating alongside your generosity. That was how the Nein saved the world- selfishly.

The Vestige opened up before him, all of its powers revealed to him, and he smiled, knowing why Fate had put this in his path. He’d give Her Majesty a firm dressing down in a mock prayer later. For now, he was thrilled to feel the power of reaching out to magic and simply dissolving it into useless strands of the weave again.

The antimagic field flickered into being with enough force that the dome shattered, knocking its occupants onto their asses on the ice. The children let out screams they had been holding in for years and threw themselves upon one another, clawing and clambering like puppies, scared out of their minds.

The blonde wizard’s form flickered with red crackles of arcane energy as the antimagic stole away her disguise, leaving her sprawled on her back, gaping like a fish. Gone was the pretty blonde thing and in her place was a leggy older woman with short brown hair that hung in greasy strands around her pinched, heavily lined face. She was rail thin and barely dressed in a low cut purple tunic that barely hit her knees. Fern-like veins of deep blood red lined her legs and arms and snaked up her throat.

She pushed herself up onto her knobby elbows, stared at her hand where a ring was sparking with dying arcane power. She tapped it a few times and then lifted her hand, as if to conjure something, and found that died to sparks too. She huffed.

The first words spoken by an Aeoran on Exandrian soil in hundreds of years was a profoundly deadpan (and in perfect Common no less), “Fuck.”

[starsreminisce]

Rhys:

“I almost told you then, but … You were so sad. And tired. And for once, you looked at me like … like I was worth something. So I promised myself that the next time I saw you, I’d free you of the bargain. Because I was selfish, and knew that if I let go right then, he’d lock you up and I’d never get to see you again. When I went to leave you … I think transforming you into Fae made the bond lock into place permanently. I’d known it existed, but it hit me then—hit me so strong that I panicked. I knew if I stayed a second longer, I’d damn the consequences and take you with me. And you’d hate me forever. “I landed at the Night Court, right as Mor was waiting for me, and I was so frantic, so … unhinged, that I told her everything. I hadn’t seen her in fifty years, and my first words to her were, ‘She’s my mate.’

Cassian:

Cassian’s eyes blazed. “Say it.” She refused. “Say it, Nesta.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Ask me why I vanished for nearly a week after Solstice. Why I suddenly had to do an inspection right after a holiday.” Nesta kept her mouth shut. “It was because I woke up the next morning and all I wanted to do was fuck you for a week straight. And I knew what that meant, what had happened, even though you didn’t, and I didn’t want to scare you. You weren’t ready for the truth—not yet.” Her mouth went dry. “Say it,” Cassian snarled. People gave them a wide berth. Some outright turned back toward the direction they’d come from. “No.” His face shuttered with rage even as his voice became calm. “Say it.” She couldn’t. Not before he’d ordered her to, and certainly not now. She wouldn’t let him win like that. “Say what I’ve guessed from the moment we met,” he breathed. “What I knew the first time I kissed you. What became unbreakable between us on Solstice night.” She wouldn’t. “I am your mate, for fuck’s sake!” Cassian shouted, loud enough for people across the river to hear. “You are my mate! Why are you still fighting it?”

Lucien Pre-Snap:

Tamlin launched himself at the throne, as if he’d rip him to shreds. That white-hot magic slammed into him, shoving him to the ground. Leashing him. Tamlin strained against the collar of light on his neck, around his wrists. His golden power flared —to no avail. I tore at the fist still gripping my own, sliced at it, over and over— Lucien staggered a step forward as Elain was gripped between two guards and hoisted up. She began kicking then, weeping while her feet slammed into the sides of the Cauldron as if she’d push off it, as if she’d knock it down— “That is enough.” Lucien surged for Elain, for the Cauldron. And the king’s power leashed him, too. On the ground beside Tamlin, his single eye wide, Lucien had the good sense to look horrified as he glanced between Elain and the High Lord.

Elain was still shivering on the wet stones, her nightgown shoved up to her thighs, her small breasts fully visible beneath the soaked fabric. Guards snickered. Lucien snarled at the king over the bite of the magic at his throat, “Don’t just leave her on the damned floor—” There was a flare of light, and a scrape, and then Lucien was stalking toward Elain, freed of his restraints. Tamlin remained leashed on the ground, a gag of white, iridescent magic in his mouth now. But his eyes were on Lucien as—As Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain.

Nesta slammed into Lucien, grabbing Elain from his arms, and screamed at him as he fell back, “Get off her!” Elain’s feet slipped against the floor, but Nesta gripped her upright, running her hands over Elain’s face, her shoulders, her hair— “Elain, Elain, Elain,” she sobbed. Cassian again stirred—trying to rise, to answer Nesta’s voice as she held my sister and cried her name again and again. But Elain was staring over Nesta’s shoulder. At Lucien—whose face she had finally taken in. Dark brown eyes met one eye of russet and one of metal. Nesta was still weeping, still raging, still inspecting Elain— Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate.”

If Rhys and Cassian were in the same position as Lucien where they can not leave, where they saw Nesta and Feyre being threatened and violated as Elain have been, where they could not guarantee their safety, they too would not have been able to wait.

It's also worth nothing that Cassian's bond didn't snap for him once Nesta was made. It snapped way later.

Cassian and Rhys had also the luxury of knowing the Archeron sisters and to form their suspicions. Lucien literally met Elain that night and felt the pull to protect her. I still think he believed he was doing so because he knew how important Elain was to Feyre, confusing that for the bond. He broke through chains that Tamlin could not. He doesn't not know this girl whatsoever except for that innate feeling to save her.

Come to find out that it was because she was his mate. Not the girl who was murdered by his father.

Cassian and Rhys were granted that extra second to leave because they could. Lucien couldn't. Cassian and Rhys were fortunate that their bond snapped to where they could leave. Lucien didn't.

Does anybody else thinks Lucien could have waited to tell Elain she was his mate? Like dude she’s just been kidnapped and turned immortal- not to also mention she was already engaged to someone else- and you barge in saying “You are my mate.”

Don’t misunderstand me I’m not antiLucien it’s just that I think his chances with her would’ve been better if his approach had been different. Like gradual, slow, gentle.

Not that I am big Elucien supporter, I’m actually rooting for 😍ELRIEL😍 but I just think Lucien could have had more smooth interactions with her if he had been more cautious about the mating bond.

I’m just wondering.

[drinkingcoffee-inthedark]

Unrequited

Part 3

Pairing(s): Azriel x Reader, Lucien x Reader

Warning(s): ⚠️***SMUT***🔞 Minors, do not interact❗️

Word Count; 2770

The moment your presence was felt in the townhouse, there was a knock at your bedroom door. You suppressed the groan that wanted to spill from your chest. You were decidedly not in any sort of mood to be talking to anyone.

You were still seething from being removed as a spy. Azriel was ridiculous. Having you essentially fired because he didn’t want to be near you. Because he was angry at you for having a relationship with Lucien.

The Autumn Court enemy.

He probably thought you a traitor now.

Selfish, emotionally illiterate Illyrian males.

The knock sounded again, and you held your breath. If you don’t answer, they’ll go away, right?

Wrong.

Another knock, this one more urgent. You paused.

“(Y/N)?”

Azriel.

Fuck.

You didn’t even bother to suppress your groan this time as you marched to the door and flung it open, eyes blazing with rage. The Shadowsinger seemed to recoil at the look in your eyes for a moment, before his cool mask slipped back into place. The picture of the calm-under-pressure spymaster he was so good at. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest.

“Rhys told me you’re upset.”

Traitorous, daemati bastard.

Azriel’s air of nonchalance made you fumble, no longer enraged, but incredulous. You blinked at him.

The audacity had your floored.

“You’re joking, right?” Your laugh was sarcastic and bitter. “No, I’m not upset, Azriel. Why would I be. I’m removed from my duty to this Court because-”

Azriel’s wings flared, and he snarled at you, “Because you failed at your duties to this Court!”

You nearly hit the ground as the harsh words speared at your heart like a dagger. He knew exactly where to aim. You staggered back from him, tears pooling in your eyes, balling your fists at your side.

“How-” You were cut off again.

“I sent you to gather information on a potential threat to this Court! And instead of collecting intel, you spread your legs for him.”

You glared at the Shadowsinger, hot angry tears threatening to fall. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. You gritted your teeth.

“Lucien,” you seethed, “is not an enemy to this Court. He is our emissary. He is my friend.”

Azriel chuckled darkly, “Do you let all of your friends fuck you, (Y/N)?”

He pushed off the doorframe and clicked the door closed behind him. He stalked towards you, eyeing your smaller frame as if you were prey. You stared him down, refusing to shrink under his gaze. The Illyrian Warrior towered over you, his wings flaring, and his shadows swirling. You understood why he was so feared.

But he didn’t scare you.

“Why do you care who I sleep with, Azriel?”

The spymaster was rapidly approaching you, but you refused to back down. The only movement you made was a nearly imperceptible twitch in your jaw as you bared your teeth down, afraid you were going to snap on him like a wild dog.

He was inches from your face now, your noses nearly touching.

He ignored your question, countering it with one of his own.

His voice was infuriatingly even as he said, “Tell me, (Y/N),” Your name was harsh on his lips. He spit it out as if it disgusted him. You waited for his question, too tense to even breathe.

“Do you let him cum inside you?” You sucked in a sharp inhale as Azriel continued, “Do you let him fill you up the way I do?”

You felt your eyes go wide as the realization shot through you like lightning.

He was jealous.

Part of you was afraid of the implication. Afraid to hope that maybe he felt the same way. But you know how how possessive Illyrian males could be. It’s entirely possible that this was all just some sort of unsaid competition between the two males.

“Does he make you feel as good as I do?” He asked, and the way he shifts his weight uncomfortably tell you that the question came out way more vulnerable than he intended.

Lucien was an excellent lover; attentive, giving, passionate. But he wasn’t Azriel. You didn’t love the emissary, at least, not in the way you loved Azriel. His question was like comparing apples to oranges.

“No,” you whispered, searching his beautiful hazel eyes as if they carried the answers to the universe, “No one makes me feel as good as you do.”

And with that his hand was on the back of your neck, pulling you in to meet his lips in a searing kiss. You kissed him back just as feverishly, needing to taste him.

His delicious scent of cedar and night sky invaded your senses, and your head spun. His tongue prodded at your lower lip, and you obliged, opening your mouth to let him in. The sensation of his silky smooth tongue against yours made your knees go weak.

You moaned softly into Azriel’s mouth, and he pulled you closer, your body flush against his. One of his hands tangled into your hair, and the other was on your hip.

You closed your lips around his tongue and sucked on it softly, eliciting a quiet groan from him. After releasing his tongue from your mouth, you pulled back slightly, catching his bottom lip between your teeth. You scraped your teeth along the sensitive flesh, before releasing your mouth from his completely.

The Illyrian rested his forehead against yours, “Gods…” He breathed out quietly, his voice barely audible.

You pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth- unable to resist his full, soft lips- and tugged on the hem of his shirt. Azriel got your hint and pulled his shirt off. You stepped back, just a bit, to let your eyes roam over his exposed skin.

Azriel was a gorgeous male. His muscular physique and his tall, proud stature alone would attract anyone. But his deep, dreamy hazel eyes, dark hair, and golden skin sent it over the edge. You allowed your eyes to wander the expanse of his tattooed chest, down the planes of his taut stomach, and the trail of hair leading beneath his trousers… You didn’t feel an ounce of shame at your ogling. You knew he would be smirking before you even turned your attention back to his face.

“Enjoying the view?” He teased. You nodded, a small smile playing in your lips.

“I always do. Gods, you’re gorgeous, Az,” You told him earnestly. His face flushed at the compliment. He knew he was an attractive male. But hearing it from your lips was music to his ears.

“You are stunning,” He replied, reaching out to help you out of your own shirt. And then it was his turn to ogle. Your whole body tinged pink as his eyes roamed down your neck, the swell of your breasts- still clothes with your lace bra- and down your belly- which was quickly pooling with heat.

Azriel reached out and unfastened the buckle of your pants and slid them onto the floor with ease. You stepped out of them quickly and kicked the off to the side. He hummed appreciatively as his eyes scanned down the rest of your exposed skin.

He removed his own pants, leaving you both standing face to face in your room, in nothing but your undergarments. His arousal was evident, and you were sure he could scent yours.

The Spymaster placed his hands on your hips and stepped forward, ushering you to the edge of your bed. You laid down on the bed, and propped yourself up on your forearms, and peered at him through your lashes.

Azriel climbed on top of you and straddled your hips, caging you in. Your eyes met his and you sucked in a breath at the dangerous glint in his eyes. He was ravenous, and you were the only meal he wanted.

You pulled him in and kissed him deeply. He returned it just as enthusiastically. You moaned softly against his lips and jutted your hips up into his. He groaned at the contact, and ground his hips right back down into yours, his hardness brushing against your still clothed sex.

Your breath hitched, and broke the kiss. You stared at him through your half-lidded eyes, “I want you, Az. I need you.”

“And you can have me, bunny,” He said, “But I want to make you cum first, okay?”

Gods, this male was going to be the end of you.

You nodded slowly, and he propped himself up on his knees and reached around your back, unhooking your bra and tossing it to the floor.

“Mm, that’s better,” He smirked. You arched your back slightly, the cool air making your nipples peak almost immediately.

Azriel trailed slow kisses down your neck, starting just below your ear, and trailing down to your collar bone. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin in between kisses, and guided your shoulders back onto the bed gently, laying you flat on your back. You moaned as he took your nipple into his mouth, and palmed your other breast with his large hand. He sucked and licked at the engorged bud, and you arched up into his touch. You laced your fingers through his hair and pulled him further into you.

“M-more, Az, please,” You breathed out. He hummed in amusement, before biting down in your nipple, not enough to really hurt, but just enough to send a sharp tingle down your spine.

He switched to give the other breast the same attention, this time teasing more. Circling your pert nipple with his tongue, but refusing to take it into his mouth. You couldn’t stop the frustrated whine that came from your throat. Azriel pulled away from your chest and smirked darkly.

“Is my little bunny impatient today?” He asked, the condescending tone made you glare at him, but you nodded anyway, desperate to feel him.

“Yes, daddy,” You said, knowing how the word would go straight to his swollen cock. You had only been lovers friends with benefits for six months, but you knew all of each other’s ticks. Like you’d had an arrangement for years.

He groaned and palmed himself through his boxers, before tearing your panties off of you. At the tipping sound of the fabric, you gasped softly.

“Azriel!” You chided him, “Those were my favorite!”

He gritted out, “I’ll buy you more,” and something about the sheer need in his voice- the need for you- licked flames of desire down to your core.

And with that, his thumb pressed against your clit, making you yelp at the sudden contact. He drew small circles around the sensitive button.

You arched your back, needing more contact. The Shadowsinger smirked, before delving two fingers inside of you. Your eyes rolled back and you swiveled your hips, forcing his fingers even deeper.

“Greedy little bunny,” He chastised, but gave you the relief you wanted, and began pumping his fingers in and out.

“Ah, yes!” You moaned out, “So greedy for you, Az!”

He chuckled darkly, loving the reactions you were giving him. He loved that his touch set you on fire.

Azriel dipped his head and kissed your clit softly. You watched him with half-lidded eyes, before he flattened his tongue and licked it, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His finger never let up on the pace they kept inside you.

His fingers curled at just the right angle and found that spot inside of you that made your brain short circuit. You lifted your hips off the bed and gripped the Shadowsinger’s hair, tugging on it in the throws of your pleasure.

“I’m going to cum!” You told him, snapping your eyes shut, feeling your release sprinting at youX

He lifted his head briefly, “Cum for me, bunny,” he said, then his mouth was back on you, licking short strokes on your clit.

His command sent you over the edge, and you were cumming for him- panting and moaning his name.

Azriel circled your clit slowly, working your through the waves of your orgasm.

You released your grip on his hair and your arms fell to your sides. Your chest heaved from the relief. You finally opened your eyes when you heard and absolutely obscene sucking sound in front of you.

You found Azriel with his two fingers -the ones that were inside you- in his mouth, sucking your release off of his fingers. Your jaw went slack at the sight.

He pulled his fingers from his mouth, smirking.

“Mm, you taste so good, bunny.” His smirk widened, and you felt the heat pooling between your legs all over again.

“Fuck me.” Your breath was shaky and soft around the words, but it was a command and you both knew it.

Azriel was on his feet in front of the bed, and before you could protest, his hands were on you hips, dragging you to the edge of the bed.

He took his boxers off and your eyes greedily took in the sight of his impressive size. Your mouth practically watered at in.

Azriel stood between your thighs, and hoisted your legs up over his shoulders. In one long thrust of his hips, he was buried inside you, eliciting moans from each of you.

He was so big, and filled you up so perfectly that you felt dizzy at the sensation.

“You feel so good, angel,” He groaned out, pumping in and out of your slowly, allowing you too get used to the feeling of him stretching you.

You balled up your fists in the sheets and moaned his name. He loved seeing you splayed out for him like that. So open, so vulnerable. He loved watching your face contort in pleasure with each thrust.

He picked up his pace, thrusting into you fast and hard. His beautiful hazel eyes didn’t leave yours, pure animalistic lust on full display.

In the course of your arrangement with Azriel, you’d had sex with the Shadowsinger many times. But this- you’d never seen this before. The want in his eyes. The passion in the way he claimed you.

It made you see stars.

He gripped your hips and dragged you impossibly closer, needing to be deeper inside you. Your whole lower half was now completely off the bed, being held up by Azriel.

He slammed into you, and you felt yourself coming completely undone, your toes curling almost painfully as your whole body tensed.

You could tell he was getting close too, his thrusts growing frantic and sloppy.

“Please!” You begged, “Please, don’t stop! M’gonna cum for you!”

You could hear a string of curse words spill from his lips as he kept his pace, desperate to provide you both with your release.

“That’s right, cum on my cock,” He gritted out.

Your release barreled through you with such force that you couldn’t stop yourself from crying out, tears springing to your eyes.

Seeing you come apart from him, sent Azriel’s release through him, and he came deep inside you, your name falling from his lips.

Azriel released your legs from his shoulders, guiding them gently to the floor, where the hung lazily, your muscles like jelly.

He laid down next to you on the bed, his wings flaring out as he pulled your into his arms.

“Well, fuck.” He breathed out after you settled in bed, making you laugh.

“Yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”

“That was-” He started.

“-amazing.” You concluded for him.

“Yeah.” He agreed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You sighed contentedly, and closed your eyes, ready for a nap after your afternoon activities.

Azriel’s muscles tensed, bringing you away from the sweet sleep you were searching for.

“About what I said earlier…” He began, clearly regretting his harsh words. You rolled your eyes, too tired to talk.

“What you said earlier was work related. We keep sex and work separate, remember?”

His body relaxed slightly, but he sighed anyway, the disappointment evident in his tone, “Right. Okay. We’ll talk about it later.”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to talk about it at all. You wanted to forget the interaction completely, knowing that if you dwelled on it and picked it apart, it would destroy you. But you humored him anyway with a nod.

You settled comfortably into his arms again, nuzzling against his strong chest. He held you tightly, and closed his eyes, humming a tune quietly.

The soothing noise, and the vibrating in this chest, had you drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

Until the relaxing haze was shattered by a sharp knock on the door.

•

Tag list:

@lahoete @percyjacksonspeen @honestlywtfisgoingon

[cheri-translates]

[CN] ASMR Transcript - Submerged (Lucien)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an ASMR, 浸没, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Submerge yourself in the hazy ocean of him.

[ Released in CN: 3 April 2022 ]

[ knocking ]

Can you hear my voice?

Are you okay?

[ knocking ]

Did she fall asleep?

I’m going in, okay?

[ door opens + footsteps ]

Did I frighten you?

Yes, you did give me a scare.

Seeing you lying next to the pool wrapped in a bath towel alone

Made me think that

Something happened.

You were thinking about something?

In that case, I’d like to hear from

The great Producer who specially came to this 

Small-scale private couple hot spring resort

And had an out-of-body experience

While soaking in this hot spring which has a grassy fragrance.

What were you thinking about?

A script for an advertisement featuring a new perfume?

You’re close to getting inspired?

And you want me to go out?

Don’t stay too long in the hot spring.

Your brain will react more slowly.

Want to come out and think about it slowly?

You feel that being immersed in this environment

Is more suitable for thinking?

Looks like this room has become

A grassland and cedar tree forest in your mind.

Okay.

I’ve got it.

[ footsteps + rustling noises ]

Hm? What I’m doing?

Want to make a guess?

[ water noises ]

After all, the duration of a night goes past very quickly.

It’s rare to relax together with the great Producer.

Since you’re not willing to change a thinking location,

I have no choice but to join you

And share this time of contemplation with you.

[ water noises ]

My presence will affect your thinking?

What should we do then?

What do I have to do in order to make it up to you?

Hm? You want me to analyse

The scent of the perfume in this room?

[ Lucien inhales ]

Mm... it’s very fresh.

It feels like I’m floating in the grass and in a cedar tree forest.

I’m not very sensitive to scents.

Perhaps because you’ve been thinking for so long

The scent in this place has become a little faint.

But the scent

On you

Seems to be a little stronger.

Why do I find that the water’s getting a little cold?

Want to move slightly closer?

Just sit here.

There’s still a huge space between our positions.

Relax.

Do I make you that nervous?

I just hope

That neither of us will catch a cold.

Also...

Being like this right now

Allows me to have a better experience of this scent.

Mm, it’s very strong.

From top to bottom, you smell of this scent.

[ Lucien inhales ]

New thoughts?

Hm... I don’t dislike having this scent remain on your body.

How am I deliberately teasing you?

Before I share more of my thoughts,

I wish to

Have a better understanding

Of what you want.

Only then will I know

What I should give to you.

The main themes are temptation and entrapment?

Which is why you’ve locked yourself in a room filled with a fragrance

In the hope of finding a more complete experience

And produce a more creative image?

[ chuckles ]

How is that being silly?

You probably don’t know

How adorable you are right now.

But when Miss Producer faces difficulties, I’ll have to trouble you

To remember to give me a tiny opportunity

To keep you company

And to let me enter your world.

You have a selfish reason for wanting to do the script for the perfume?

And it has something to do with me?

Hm? You’re saying that

The scent of the perfume which is to be advertised 

Is very similar to the scent on my body?

Which is why you want to do an even better job?

[ chuckles ]

Right now, I finally know

Why I’m not against the idea of this scent remaining on your body.

Mm, perhaps it wouldn’t be wrong for it to be a little stronger.

But if that’s the reason,

You should have told me slightly earlier.

I have an idea.

It might help you.

Want to hear it?

In that case, from now onwards,

Give yourself to me completely.

Since this scent and mine are very similar,

I’m very willing to

Let you get even more from this scent,

And a fuller experience.

[ water splashing noises ] 

Turn around.

I guess that

Scents are important mediums

That express certain untouchable

Feelings that continue to wind around one’s surroundings.

It seems to be within reach.

But in the next second,

They seem to disappear in front of you.

You mind can’t seem to think?

That’s okay.

You don’t need to think.

What’s important is to feel.

[ kisses ]

What you should do

Is to use your mind and body

To remember all the senses right now.

Relax.

Leave everything to me.

All you have to do is imagine.

Imagine that this scent has a physical form.

From here...

To here...

[ kisses ]

There’s no hurry.

It needs you

To feel it all around.

✧ Text and Moments: here

✧ Call: here

[alipopsie]

okay but imagine.

they get back to the blooming grove and they meet with the clays and cry and have moments with molly.

and essek and molly get to meet cad's family. they tend to molly's wounds and one of the parents gives essek the paternal hug he's been needing his entire life.

and then they pull up the tower and molly comes in and cad stays out in the grove. more time to spend with his family. he was so scared for them. he just needs to be able to spend a night with them before they tie their loose ends. he needs to know they're safe.

and they all eat and have a FIRST meal together with mollymauk. no more lasts. only firsts.

after a conversation in the hot tub, they all go their ways to their rooms. they've had a long day and they need the rest.

caleb's replaced caduceus's room with an exact replica of the room he designed to torture lucien, in an attempt to help molly remember.

yasha drags her mattress through the tower to sleep on the floor of molly's room. to make sure he's safe.

and the guest room is built for essek. customised just for him. caleb knows how to make a wizard feel at home. he follows essek in. they need to talk. it's been too long.

and they do talk. well, they want to. but what they actually do is stand in the middle of essek's room and look at each other. having the kind of silent conversation that only people with +5 int can have.

and they stand like that for what essek feels to be a number of seconds, or maybe it's hours. the dungeon of penance can't mess with his sense of time, but by the light caleb's eyes certainly can.

and caleb cocks an eyebrow, glancing from essek's eyes, to his lips, to his forehead, and his eyes again, in a way that can only mean "may I?"

and essek nods. and caleb puts a hand on the back of his head and pulls essek in gently, and leans in and leans up. just barely. and presses a kiss right on essek's forehead.

and essek melts, just a little bit, into his touch. floating lower, but still not touching the ground. and lets out a small huff of a laugh

and fills the room with the first words they've heard in, by caleb's count, twenty one minutes. ...and thirty eight seconds.

"you're a smart man, widogast." he speaks quietly, just barely audible, but caleb pulls back to make eye contact as he talks. "you're very smart. and very brave. but by the light are you stupid sometimes."

he cracks the smallest smile as he finishes speaking, the kind of smile that only essek can make, when he tells what he believes to be a joke.

before caleb can fully appreciate the smile though, essek's floated back up, just a little bit.

and that smile is pressed against caleb's, and slender fingers are woven into his long, still ruffled hair.

and caleb pulls essek back in, with the hand still on the back of his head. the other wraps around essek's torso as the drow melts entirely into the kiss. feet settling onto the floor.

they're safe.

they're alright.

they're alive.

[ulalumewitch]

I’ve had this Elucien fic rolling around my brain for a while and decided to put it out there. No warnings with this one. Just angst and bits of hope for possible futures (I swear I write things other than angst all the time - haha).

Happy Sunday everyone!

Word count: 2,807

Themes: Angst/Hope

Choices

Lucien couldn’t believe it. He could not believe that another Winter Solstice ended in utter ruins because of his mate. Because of his godsdamned mate and he’d had enough. He would end it, and end it now.

“Elain!” He shouted at her retreating figure.

But she pulled the ruby red cloak tighter around her shoulders and quickened her steps. Fresh snow remained mostly untouched on small front lawns and sidewalks of Velaris as he ran from the front door of the Riverside Estate after Elain. Most families and friends likely hunkered down in their homes enjoying fires and brandies and gifts and laughter with no cause to go out walking as the last hours of Solstice crept by entering the darkest hours of night before the dawn.

The longest night of the year. The longest three years of his life. Three years of being both rejected and not rejected by his mate. And he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Would you stop,” he growled as they reached the gate, “You owe me one conversation.”

Elain stopped. Her spine snapped straight. She turned and glared at him, her eyes molten with pure hatred.

Lucien had chosen his words carefully. Tempers he could handle, he’d had enough practice over the centuries with a hot headed High Lord. He could handle master manipulators and sweet talkers. He could handle battle worn generals and courtiers of the most delicate constitution. He could handle gossipers and those genuinely interested in friendship.

But what he could not handle was nothing. He could not handle the looks that went right through him. The unanswered questions. The blank stares. The Solstice presents delicately placed to the side and left alone as if they didn’t exist at all.

“I owe you nothing. Leave me alone.”

“I won’t. You are my mate -“

“I don’t want to be your mate!”

“Then reject me and reject he bond!” Lucien yelled, his voice echoing through the silent night.

The stars glittered in the black sky, now completely clear after the fast moving snow clouds from earlier in the evening had dissipated. It brought just enough snow to coat the city white before moving on. As if the Mother heard every prayer from the younglings of Night Court for a white Solstice, and then granted their wish.

Elain’s nostrils flared and for a moment, the briefest moment, her eyes flashed an emotion he couldn’t quite place but had seen before. And it hit him. She’d possessed the same look of bewilderment when she’d still been sopping wet from the Cauldron’s waters, Nesta clawing at her sobbing. The look of knowing but not knowing.

“Reject it,” he rasped, the fight and fire receding slightly, “Reject it so that I can move on. You think I enjoy this? You think that any of this has made me feel good over the last three years?”

“I didn’t choose you. I didn’t choose any of this. I didn’t want any of this,” she cried.

Lucien took a breath. It was rare he lost control like this. He’d spent centuries honing his reactions and temperament to be the Fox and mold his features and behaviors into whatever he’d needed in order to ferret out information, or to keep his own secrets safe. But he couldn’t do that around her, his mate.

“I didn’t choose you either,” Lucien said.

She flinched, and looked away down the street. She crossed her arms and shivered. Her cheeks flushed a pink as if kissed by two rose petals and once again her beauty struck him like a slap across the face.

“I know you were in love with another male -“

“Stop it -“

“I know you hate being Fae. I know what you did to try and turn yourself human again -“

“I said stop it,” Elain growled through clenched teeth, “Stop it. Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can’t take it anymore,” Lucien stated, willing himself to be calm, to stop shouting.

He needed this conversation. They both did.

“You wouldn’t know this because you refuse to ever speak to me but I was in love once too,” Lucien said and took a step closer to her, “I was in love with a female and planned to marry her. And my - And the High Lord of Autumn had her killed in front of me and I couldn’t save her.”

Elain’s lips parted in a silent gasp. Her brow furrowed. For a moment he thought she might ask a question, but instead she closed her lips and looked down at he ground.

“I didn’t choose to live without her. I didn’t choose to run away to another Court and make a home there. I didn’t choose a life of intelligence work, books, sparring, warring, and everything in between. But we don’t always get a choice, Elain. What we can choose is what we do with the things that happen to us.”

Lucien paused but she remained silent. Because of course she would stay silent. Fine. Maybe it would be easier this way.

“I chose to deepen my friendship with Tamlin and to truly be a part of his Court and I made the best of it. I chose to continue my education of Courts and history and everything in between so that I could help keep the peace as much as possible. I chose to become trained as a warrior so that I could be as strong and prepared as possible for any situation. I chose those things to make the best of my life. I chose not to wallow in the what-could-have-beens for centuries because no one can survive that way.”

Lucien took another step towards her so that they were only a few inches apart. He could see Elain’s breathing had increased slightly. Her arms tightened across her chest. But she did not move away.

“I did not choose to be your mate, no one gets that choice,” Lucien whispered, “But we can choose, together, whether we want to reject this mating bond to try to lessen its effects as much as possible. It will never go away completely, but if we officially reject it then we can at least bury it and move on separately and away from each other.”

“Is that what you want?” Elain whispered, and she glanced up at him, her eyes somehow still sparkling as if the sun reflected in them.

Lucien’s heart ached. It was the first question she’d asked him since asking if he could hear her beat those years ago. And she’d been so broken then, he could barely breathe around the memory of seeing her in such a state. So he told her the truth.

“What I want is for you to talk with me and be honest with me,” he began carefully, “I want to know why the Cauldron and Mother saw fit to pair us together. Do you know that mates are equally matched and often so is their magic, their power?”

Elain glanced away and nodded. She shifted on her feet slightly.

“I’ve done some research on it.”

Lucien leaned closer to her and clasped his hands behind his back. He didn’t need her or those obnoxious bats, whom he knew lurked in the shadows, to think he would touch her. Overbearing babysitters the lot of them, even if their hearts were in the right place.

“No one knows what I’m about to tell you Elain. You could use the information against me and spread it to the Inner Circle, or anyone who might wish me harm, or you could tuck it away for private reflection. But I have much more magic and power than anyone thinks. I only let a very little bit show in the company of others. And since we are mates, I have a theory that you are the same. You only show a small bit of what you are actually capable of and have hidden the rest away. Your sisters are powerful, Elain, and I find it very hard to believe that you would be different. I also think that one of the reasons you are so unhappy is because it scares you. I could help you discover what you’re capable of - learn about it, grow with it, strengthen it, control it, and use it. You were not given a choice to become Fae and I am sorry that neither Tamlin nor I realized what was happening until it was too late. You have no idea how sorry I am. And I am sorry that you lost the love of your life in the process. I’m sorry.”

Elain stared at him. Stared and stared.

Lucien could scarcely breathe. His heart lurched forward in his chest, begging him to tug on the bond, to bring her nearer. To touch her. Kiss her. Love her.

But he forced the instinct down. Even though every beat of his heart echoed, my mate, he shut all of it down.

“There are options other than rejection,” he began slowly, “If you would like, Elain, we could discuss it, but it can’t only be me talking. And if I’m being honest, it kills me that I don’t know you. Feyre used to talk about you all the time at Spring Court when she lived there. And over the past three years I’ve gotten bits from her and Nesta, on the rare occasion I speak with her. But those are their perspectives. I would like to know first hand, about you.”

Elain looked away and cleared her throat, “What is it you want to know?”

Hope sparked in Lucien’s chest. He tightened his hands behind his back. Carefully. He had to tread so, so carefully.

“Well, for starters, I’ve always wondered if there is anything other than gardening you enjoy? What do you like? What are your passions? Your dreams? What makes you happy? Upset? Do you have any religious or spiritual beliefs? Do you enjoy sports? Do you have a favorite season? Hobbies? Preferred genre of music? Books? I want to know about you, Elain, and not from anyone else. I want to experience you. I want to know why the godsdamned universe decided why you and I should be together.”

Elain let out a breath that could have been a laugh or a huff of annoyance. He wasn’t sure which, and it killed him that he didn’t know his mate well enough to know which it was.

“I hate winter,” she whispered and looked up at the sky, “I hate the cold. I never want to be cold again. I’ve had enough of it after living in that godforsaken hovel all those years. Spring has always been my favorite season. Is … how is it there?”

Lucien frowned slightly, “Improving at a glacial pace.”

“I remember the night Azriel and Feyre came to rescue me at Hybern’s camp,” she whispered, her arms tightening around her, “And I remember Azriel holding on to me as I held on to that poor girl and watching in horror as those beast things closed in on my sister. I thought she was dead. And then Tamlin came out of no where and saved her. Saved us. I think of that quite a bit actually.”

Lucien stared at her. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

“If he needs assistance with his gardens, I could help. I’m bored to tears in winter here and I don’t think the High Lord of Spring should have flagging gardens, do you?” Elain asked and met his eyes then.

Strength shone in them. Her chin tipped up slightly and Lucien lost his breath. A shiver ran along his spine as he realized his assumption on her untapped and hidden power had likely been correct. He did not stare into the eyes of a doe but a Wolf. Of course a godsdamned Wolf would would lurk under her skin. She was an Archeron sister after all.

“No, I don’t think so either. It might help Tam, to have his estate restored a bit,” Lucien suggested carefully, “If you ever wanted to get away from the cold of Velaris during winter, I could arrange it.”

Elain looked away again and whispered, “I’ve been so lonely. I don’t know what to do.”

Lucien frowned as pain wrapped around his heart, and realized with utter horror, it was not his pain but hers. Gods, had she been living with this?

“Elain,” Lucien murmured, “All I’m asking for is to share one meal. One conversation. I’m not suggesting we get mated or married or any of it. Hell, I’m not even asking for a date. I’m only asking for one conversation so that we can both maybe decide if rejecting the bond really is the best thing or if maybe, maybe, there might be something here worth exploring, growing, tending like one of your gardens. No expectations. Just …”

“Just time to decide what kind of choice we want to make with what the Cauldron gave us?” Elain offered quietly.

A breath he didn’t know he’d been holding rasped through his lips. His gold eye whirred. He blinked and golden light swirled around Elain hedged with blush pink and warm vermillion. She looked like a goddess inside the sun, and gods did he want to worship her. But was she worth worshiping? He desperately wanted to find out.

He blinked and his eye showed her as any one would see her once again. Lucien nodded his agreement.

Elain cleared her throat and looked down the street, “I didn’t eat. Did you?”

“Not much, those fools love their drink on holidays,” Lucien offered with a small laugh, “They’re a happy lot though aren’t they?”

Elain shrugged, “I suppose. Are you hungry?”

Warmth spread through his chest. Lucien allowed a smile to touch his lips.

“I could eat.”

“Do you think any of the restaurants are open?” Elain asked.

“You want to have this conversation now?” Lucien asked incredulously.

A smile bloomed across her face. Her rosy cheeks pinked further and he’d never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in his life before.

Elain released her arms and crooked an elbow to him. He stared at the offered arm. Was he dreaming?

“Well, Fox?” Elain asked, “Shall we?”

Lucien’s heart leapt in his chest. He closed the last few inches between them and looped his arm through hers. Suddenly, the weight of a thousand stones of grief and dejection lifted from his shoulders. His heart felt so light he could have wept.

“I know of one restaurant that will be open. It’s not the best, but it’s decent and within walking distance,” Lucien began, “And after this conversation, if you would like to have another - if we would both like to have another - then I can take you to my favorite restaurant. It is in the middle of the largest botanical gardens in all of Prythian.”

Elain raised an eyebrow, “In the middle of winter?”

Lucien grinned at her and winked, “It’s in Summer Court.”

She nodded, “I would like that, if,” and softly cleared her throat, “If we both decide we would like another conversation after tonight that is.”

Lucien nodded, “Very well, Lady Light. Are you cold?”

A small smile. An even smaller snicker.

“A little.”

“Give me your hand,” Lucien offered his free hand to her, palm up.

Elain stared at his open palm. Lucien felt a small lick of pride at how still she became, like a true Immortal creature, she’d mastered the art of preternatural stillness.

Then, she lightly rested her hand against his. Lucien maintained eye contact with her as he closed his fingers around her hand and touched the spark of fire within him. Elain gasped and her eyes widened.

“How did you do that?” She murmured, and a small laugh escaped her, “I’m positively toasty.”

Lucien’s heart fluttered but kept his tone airy, almost bored, “A small bit of magic for me. It’s a gift not everyone possesses. Not many know I can do it. Shall we eat? I’m rather hungry myself.”

Elain nodded, “I would like that, thank you.”

Lucien nodded and let go of her hand but tightened his arm still hooked around hers slightly. He didn’t bother to hide the widening of his smile as she gently squeezed back.

He sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Mother as they walked arm in arm down the street, their tracks the only pair as they made their way away from the High Lord and Lady’s Riverside estate and into Velaris.

Lucien didn’t know what choice she would make in the end. He didn’t know what choice he would make in the end. But at least, for now, there was a sun dawning to end the longest night of the year. And he’d never been happier to see its light.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E123 (Feb. 2, 2021)

After last week’s thoroughly relaxing and brief episode, tonight’s guests are Sam Riegel and Liam O’Brien!

Brian, to Sam: “You look like Tim Curry moved to Nantucket to become a sommelier.”

How did Caleb and Veth approach the ally-ship with the Tombtakers? Sam: “I mean, we got some information, and I think we got a little closer to Lucien and knowing whether he has any of Mollymauk inside of him, which is I think the most important knowledge that we’re seeking right now. Is there someone to be saved inside there? We got glimpses, and we got a little hint that Mollymauk is maybe still in there? Maybe? And we got a little more insight into their plans, so that was useful.” Liam: “We know why we were having that fucking dream.” Sam: “But other than that, it was just a road trip with assholes.” Liam: “All our plans have been ripped in a new direction, and it’s just been improvisation.” Sam notes that it feels like we’re always about to rip into Caleb’s backstory, but haven’t yet followed that thread all the way through. Liam: “It’s partially frustrating, to be sure, but also I like the idea that-- his whole shit has been selfish, it’s been dealing with the trauma that he’s been through and not the greater world, and that’s been shifting somewhat.”

Does Caleb think the book was worth it, and is he still interested in reading more? Sam: “How do you ask Caleb not to read a book?” Liam: “Caleb has spent enough time with the Nein to know you shouldn’t put a hand on a hot stove. After what happened with the book, he knows it’s a terrible idea. But maybe. But it’s a really bad idea. But reserve judgment, but it’s a really terrible idea. I think that Caleb is very aware that mages and people like him very easily fall prey to their curiosity and it can lead to bad places. But there is still that amount of scientific endeavor where you think there is value in knowing and learning, and maybe we can ride that line. He was True Neutral at the start of the campaign, and maybe he’s Chaotic Good now, but part of him is hubris, even if it’s a little bit, still.”

What about Otis has drawn Veth’s focus? Sam: “I mean, he’s a little shit. She was curious about Otis because he’s a small like she is, and in talking to him, he seemed to be real creepy, but he was just creepy and distant and didn’t value his past or family or anything like that. She sees someone who’s like her, but so not like her, and maybe that scares her a little bit more.”

How does Caleb feel about Beau being on this ride with him? Liam: “The dream is another example of how Caleb had very narrow vision of the things he wanted to do. It used to seem so massive to him, but now... To have Beauregard involved feels right. If anyone in the group is going to stop him from grabbing something he shouldn’t, it is probably Beauregard. She’ll punch him in the fucking face to stop him, which I think he needs, to a certain extent. They’re two different kinds of nerds, and I kind of like that, that this group of nine philosophers, they’ve reached out and somehow grabbed the two nerds in the party.”

How do Caleb and Veth see the Somnovum? Sam: “I mean, they seem real bad. Anything that’s a quorum of powerful entities heading towards your planet to unleash an energy of any kind, typically bad? I assume they’re bad, or at least the Tombtakers wish them to do ill.” Liam: “I think they want the kind of peace that comes from snapping your fingers and turning people to dust. Caleb sees them as a cautionary tale; they’re the worst-case scenario for arcane inquisitiveness.” He sees Allura Vysoren as the antidote to that.

Why the staunch refusal to use Halfling Luck? Sam: “I don’t like Luck! I just don’t like Luck. I think it’s cheap, I think it’s a cheat, I think it’s stupid. It just feels like a do-over.” Liam: “I am your antithesis! If I ever voice a halfling, I am going to hammer that feature!” Sam: “What I love about D&D is that you don’t know what’s going to happen. If you roll bad, okay, that’s it. If you roll well, it makes the success more enjoyable to know that it’s a pure success and don’t one where you’re like well actually... it’s so stupid. If someone was about to die, I would probably use the fuckin’ Luck feature. Well. It depends who. If it was Travis, yeah, no, he’s fucked, sorry.”

Liam drops that he’s picked Sam’s character class and race again for a hypothetical campaign three. Sam: “It’s not what I was thinking for future characters, but I’m excited to explore.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Mollymauk by KatofValkyrie!

What was it like to bring the Tombtakers into the tower? Liam: “It is complicated, because he does not like him. Lucien’s just a fucking dick. But Caleb also knows that Molly’s in there somewhere. That tower’s only for the M9, and Lucien’s not in the M9. Their situation with these people is shitty, it’s terrible. Caleb doesn’t feel like they have the upper hand. He doesn’t like that they’re even going on this journey per se, because life is bigger than his bullshit. He feels like they’ve been losing over and over again, so it was a gamble to try to get on equal footing.

What spurred Veth into making sure she and Yasha have some one-on-one time? Sam: “Yasha hasn’t been getting a lot of moments to shine. Now that she’s back, I just got the impression that Yasha feels out of place sometimes, or timid, or unsure of herself. When Veth was Nott, Nott certainly had her share of those moments. I think she sees a kindred spirit and wants to make sure that she’s been giving all the opportunity she can to flourish and thrive. Dani, you’re just laughing at my mustache, aren’t you?” Dani: “Yes, that’s the only thing I’m laughing at through this whole bullshit.” Sam denies all knowledge of trolling, but eventually admits, on the topic of Yasha and Beau getting together: “They’ve made me wait this long... I’m going to make them wait a little bit longer!”

What was it like to show his friends the upper floors? Liam: “I kinda expected somebody to sneak up there before that. That being part of the tower is not even a conscious choice of his, it just is. The reason Caduceus has creeped Caleb out for a long time is because he talks about how-- Caduceus is a really kind person and wants Caleb to let go of the past. And in a really simplistic way, turn that frown upside-down. And that’s just not who Caleb is, and it’s not who everybody is. There is something to be said for trying to stay open and positivity, but thinking you can shut out the past, especially a traumatic one, is just not true. When things happen to us, we carry them. But to candy-coat it and say, ah, I’m free, or everything is good, or I’ve turned the corner... life is way messier than that. It’s not flipping a switch, it’s not bad-to-good, it is such a work in progress. Even when you make strides and start to get to a better place, you can backslide a lot. So the tower is who he is, and the tower is 7/9ths love for his friends, and 1/9th hope, but there’s still a percentage of him that carries everything from the past, and knows that he should, and knows that he should not go back to where he was. And the way to do that is not to say everything is rainbows, but to remember it. The tower is just like an extension of who he is. He’s never going to forget the past, and he’s never going to be like, I’m good, or I’ve turned a corner. He should remember the past, and he should do better, always.”

Does Veth still believe it’s possible to get Molly back? Sam: “Well, she was a person trapped in another body for many years, so has some experience there, and definitely believes that the spirit and soul of Molly is in there and just needs to be unlocked somehow.”

Fan Art of the Week: an amazing group shot by HarpySN!

How are Caleb and Veth dealing with their guilt and fear about being in the middle of this? Sam: “It definitely was a deep conversation that might have repercussions going forward. The problem with all of what we’re doing now is that we don’t have time to deal with our petty problems anymore. It’s all high tension all the time!” Liam: “It’s true; they’re not in control of their situation at all anymore.” Sam: “It’s good to have these check-ins, but it’s not like we can do anything about them. We’re reactive right now.” Liam: “He’s not happy with where they are, but they wouldn’t even be this far if the goblin hadn’t pulled him out of the mud. So part of it is, you saved me from where I was and got me on my feet again, and now it’s disconcerting to see it all just get knocked sideways by something he never could’ve predicted. I think Caleb felt nostalgic for when things were simpler, in a way, for them, when we’re both troubled drifters.”

What was it like to see Gelidon’s return? Liam: “I am the least superstitious person at the table. Ashley’s dice suck.” Sam: “It was fun fighting a dragon!” Liam: “Two massive battles in one episode, neither of which came away with a victory. I guess surviving is a victory.” Sam: “I’d forgotten about the dragon, honestly.” Liam: “I loved it. I was so upset at the idea that we were going to stealth and not get into it.”Sam: “Mercer doesn’t keep a live dragon around and not do something with it. That dragon’s coming back.”

How do Caleb and Veth feel about going to see Essek? Sam: “He can be very helpful, I believe, but as Sam Riegel, a player of D&D, I’m super suspicious. What the fuck is Essek doing up there, so close, now? I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. And I can throw him pretty far because he floats.” Liam: “I 100% agree with you. I do not understand what Essek could bring to what we are going through. I know the audience loves him, I love him too. He’s a really cool character. But he’s fucking toxic. He out of curiosity caused a war between two nations. And Caleb has been changed for the good by the M9 from months of travel with them. Essek has had none of that. Caleb has changed for the good, but not because of people like Essek. Essek is where Caleb came from. We kept the lid on the pot during the whole treaty at sea and it almost all went fucking sideways, and only because we pressed him into a corner. I hope that guy finds some sort of balance and peace for himself, but I do not see how his input here would be helpful. There’s other heavy hitters that I would try to pull in.”

Liam notes that the Cloven Crystal is in the Bag of Holding. Sam: “Do I have Fluffernutter, or is Fluffernutter gone?” Liam: “Nope. 300 pounds of fireworks? Gone. A dead mage, a threshold crest, and fireworks.” Dani: “Your basic essentials.”

[iridiscent-aesthetics]

I just saw your headcanon of az being jealous of gwyn and eris, may I suggest the opposite? gwyn being jealous of az and eris talking.

Oh I LOVE this one! Might be a tad bit tricky but I'm soo very up for it! Thank you @aelingalathyniusrailme for SUCH a great idea!

Gwyn would've found this entertaining. IF it wasn't Azriel there. She was aware of their hatred. Aware that they were literally always at each others throats. But she couldn't help but fume with jealousy while watching them in the training ring take on each other. Blow to blow, matching at each stride. She was watching Eris and Az spar. It began with a heated argument leading to the Autumn court heir challenging the Shadowsinger to spar. And now here they were, since a straight of 15 minutes, sparring. Neither nowhere close to yielding. Gwyn was cursing the redheaded male with all she had for choosing sparring instead of dueling. The absence of the weapons as a bridge and the proximity of their sweaty bodies was too much, nor did it help that neither had a shirt on. The angst, the tension built between them; it seemed straight out of one of her smutty romance books. Gwyn wasn't liking this one bit. "Come on guys, We get it! You're strong and bold. You're Fearless males! There. fed your bloated male egos. Now stop. would you?!" She yelled, throwing her hands in the air frustrated. "Let them be Gwyn, this is far more entertaining than having to listen them arguing to the point of biting each others heads off." Cassian stood besides her crossing his arms and watching them with a hint of curiosity as to who would win. Gwyn bet her money on Az because she would have it no other way, but as much as she hated to admit, Eris was just as good. "Yeah Gwyn. Besides, two of the hottest males fighting, now that's a sight to sore eyes. Enjoy the show!" Nesta chimed in elbowing her, eyeing Cass as he put his hand to his heart and feigned a dramatic expression of pain. Nesta rolled her eyes. "Oh I'll give you a good show Ness." He said scooping her in his arms and took to the sky. Newly mated idiots, couldn't stay away for a minute. Gwyn looked back to the ring and groaned "Well at least take a break!" "Okay!" Yelled Az before delivering a good blow right to Eris's jaw. "Break." There. That should teach the male a lesson for getting all cocky and getting Az worked up. "Going easy on me Shadowsinger?" Eris said rubbing his jaw. Mother! this male's audacity was insufferable! "Wouldn't want to ruin that pretty face of yours, your highness." Az smirked back. Gwyneth clenched her fist. Pretty face?! What in all of Prythian made Az think Eris was pretty! Did he find him attractive? Was he into males? Eris was beyond fine, he was VERY attractive. A strong jaw and sharp eyes with a strong intensity. The male was hot . quite literally. He would make a fit equal to Az. His lethal darkness and Eris's burning fire. She shook her head, No. She was over thinking, Az hated Eris; old bad blood. There was no way he'd fall for him. But she'd make sure of it. Az walked out of the training pit and straight to her, sweat dripping off him. Gwyn couldn't tear her eyes off him. "Enjoying the show Berdara?" Came a teasing Azriels' voice. "Mhmm." She didn't even want to deny it, let him know she was attracted to him. About time it got through that dense head of the Night Court's infamous Spymaster. "Hey Az..., what's your type?" She shot him the question looking everywhere but him. He shot his head to her. "What?" She finally met his gaze. "I'm asking you what kind of people you're attracted to Shadowsinger!" Gwyn was certain her face was as red as her hair now. He looked into her eyes for a hard moment before answering in a low voice. "Redheads. Stubborn ones with a fiery attitude at that. Bonus if they're competitive." He was still looking straight into her eyes, with a small smirk, tilting his head aside as if waiting for her expression, while his shadows were dancing around her in excitement. Gwyn's jaw almost dropped. Along with her heart as it fell to her shoe. She was right. Of course. Of course he was attracted to fucking Eris. Redhead, stubborn, fiery attitude AND competitive. Should've added fire d*ck to the list. "Right." She'd say nothing else. She looked away. "Gwyn?" Came his voice again. Her heart ached as she looked over

to Azriel's concerned face, trying to keep her sorrow reeled in within her. His shadows were frantically jumping around them. "Is everything alright, why'd you ask?" She gave him her best smile. "Yes of course." she waved it off. " just curious." He didn't seem convinced at the slightest but didn't push as he held up a water bottle and drank. Gwyn couldn't stop herself then, She was still his friend, He deserved to be happy, even if not with her. She'd help him pursue Eris. Even if the male would never deserve Az. "So I take it you're into males?" Az choked on the water he was drinking. "What?" He croaked out. Gwyn rose an eyebrow. "Males Shadowsinger, the ones that usually have a d*ck and insufferable egos but pea sized brains?" Azriel looked amused. "You forget that I'm a male too priestess." "Didn't." She muttered and leveled him with a bored stare. "Answer the question Spymaster." Az looked away, his gaze probably searching for Eris. "I've had male lovers in the past. But I've never felt a strong attraction, especially romantic attraction to them over five centuries. Pretty sure nothing's changed now." "Then Eris- how, He's an exception?" Azriel looked at her with a bewildered expression eyes widened. "Eris? What-why, what about him Gwyn?" Gwyn rolled her eyes, hands on her hips, looking down at him. "Quit the puppy eyes act Az. It fine admitting you're attracted to Eris, he's okayish. You'd look good together I guess. Enemies to Lovers arc, angsty slow burn romance,," she shrugged nonchalantly even though she was fuming inside. Az's shadows dropped. To say he was shocked was an understatement. Should he laugh, should he be hurt, or angry maybe? Eris? Of all people in Prythian, HIM? Gwyn though he was attracted to THAT male? "Gwyneth." He started in an emotionless tone face solemn, "What the actual fuck led you to THAT conclusion?" "Oh please. It was evident, for all that being Spymaster and stuff, you sure are obvious about your crushes. I mean for starts, you HATE him, or at least ACT like you do. That's always the first step to enemies to lovers. And then you guys are ALWAYS bantering! Score 2. And did you SEE that tension while you were sparring? AND Flirting with Eris? Its clear as day 'Mr. I show No Emotion'. And Redheads? Seriously Az, could you have even tried and been any more subtle? Az looked at her for a dead half a minute and then burst out laughing so hard that everyone in the training arena were now staring at them in pure shock to see the infamous Spymaster laughing his ass off. Az looked at her, trying to stop laughing, but one look at her angry face and he burst out in fits all over again. Gwyn kicked him good and hard in the knee. "Ouch!" He yelled, not stopped laughing as he held his knee. "Gwyn- I oh Cauldron. Wait." He heaved in and out. "Good shot Berdara." He said with a hint of pride, still chuckling. Gwyn kicked him again. "Nice try deflecting Spymaster." Az shook his head rapidly, still trying to catch his breath. He calmed down and looked at her. "Gwyneth Berdara. My darling. You thought I was attracted to Eris?" He started laughing again. Gwyn grew nervous, "You're not? But you said Redhead, Stubborn, Fiery attitude, Competitive. Eris is all that." "Well I'm not attracted to Eris. AT ALL. Please don't ever say or even think of that again. Please. For the sake of my sanity." Gwyn sighed in relief. "Sorry, I assumed Wrong." But then she tensed again. "But then, if not Eris, then..." She trailed off. If he wasn't attracted to Eris, then who else was it? Redheads? Lucien? Az stood up and held her arms. "Gwyn. Gwyn look at me." She looked up at him with weary eyes. "Can you think of a better Redhead? A stubborn, competitive, fierce one? She's fearless and strong." Gwyn scrunched her nose in thought. A she, was it Vassa? He flicked her nose. "She's a Valkyrie Gwyn." A Valkyrie? There weren't many new ones other than her, Emerie and Nesta, only about two or three. She looked around to see if there were any redheads in them. Az rubbed his hands on his face. "Mother's sake Gwyn,

its YOU." Her eyes shot to his in disbelief. He liked HER? "I- you, me?" She pointed a finger to herself. "You like me?" Azriel was furiously blushing red, he rubbed the back of his neck giving her a sided grin. "Yeah...that's what I'm saying..." Gwyn thought she was going to burst with all the emotions. "I-" Before she could say anything else Eris walked up to them. "Break over yet Shadowsinger?" He smirked. Gwyn growled, literally growled and stepped in front of Az. "Stay away from him Eris, find someone else to play fight. If I see you anywhere near him or talking to him, I swear to the mother, I will rip your throat out." Eris took a step back at her promised violence. "Hiding behind a female, Scared of losing Spymaster?" Gwyn took a step at him, she was certain she'd show Eris hell today. "Leave us alone Eris. I've scored my best win today." He said, looking at Gwyn fondly and putting a hand on her shoulder. Eris snorted and left muttering something to himself. "So..., are we going to talk about how adorable you are when you're jealous and angry? Especially over Eris?" Az teased her with a huge grin and happy eyes "I have no idea what you're talking about." Gwyn shrugged in charming irreverence. His gaze darkened as he looked into her ocean eyes, "You never finished what you were saying before asshole Eris butted in?" Gwyn gave him a soft smile before reaching up to his collar and pulling him down so she could kiss him. She pecked his lips once slightly before letting go and grinning at him while she walked away, leaving Az to process what happened and blush furiously like a teenager. He watched Gwyn walk away in victory. Mother, this female never failed to amaze him, And he was certain that this wouldn't be the last time. For the first time in five centuries, Az found hope. Found himself looking forward for the next day, and the rest of his life. Something sparked in his chest at the thought, A smile unconciously made way to his lips, like every time he thought of Gwyn; and this time, he didnt make to erase it. He'd let it for the world to see, the happiness Gwyneth Berdara brought to his life.

It's not about them talking exactly, but this seemed more fun to write😅

I tried! Not sure if it was good enough, but I've never really tried writing from Gwyn's POV.

Feedback, suggestions and other ideas always welcome!