#elain archeron header

[gwynlain]

Art credits to VenusFolk (Insta). Characters by Sarah J. Maas.

[spideyns]

ACOTAR HEADERS

Like if u save or use

[sad-scarred-sassy]

I’m writing my first ever Elucien fic! I just got so inspired by all the great works I have read over the last months and I wanted to add my little crumb. So if you’re like me and you love the reluctant mates angst, ballroom drama, stolen glances, court romance with spice, promiscuous fae holidays, petty Elain and pain in the ass Lucien being idiots in love, then you may like this!

Here’s a snippet:

Elain had never thought this would be her fate. Ever since she was a little girl she had been told that she would one day be married for beauty and love, and that her future accomplishments would probably not add up to much more than that. She would have liked to say she had been repulsed by this idea, offended even, but she had never really questioned it.

It had never even bothered her, thinking there would be love in her future, in fact believing it to be true had always soothed her heart. Even in the lowest moments of her life, when the cold winter would make her bones chill and her stomach ache in its emptiness, when even her little sister’s efforts would not provide any sustenance and her father would simply stare into the fire in the small crumpled living room of their cottage, it was the only thing that kept her going.

And it had served her right, for a small time she truly thought her moment of sun had come to stay. She had found her place in society, had formed friends, and a handsome Graysen Nolan had fallen in love with her and Elain with him. He had looked beyond her miserable past and had seen her, courted her, romanced her and introduced her to the wonders of all she had been promised as a little girl–love and beauty.

He loved her unconditionally… until he didn’t. Until one fateful night her whole world had come to an end. Until her body had been replaced with another’s, until her senses became foreign to her, until he appeared.

Read in ao3

[refugiodafada]

The Archeron Sisters Twitter Pack Nesta, Elain and Feyre. ACOTAR Series

like if you save. © refugiodafada

[lateatnewyork]

Listen- I had an idea. I was thinking about a Lucien Vanserra and the reader feeking the bond snap? But Lucien feeling like he's not worthy of her but she tells him how pretty his eyes are? Even with the scar? I was thinking of adding the prompt 32 angst and 12 fluff maybe.

Scars and All

Lucien x Archeron!reader, Helion x reader (father, daughter dynamic)

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

Prompts: Fluff- “I wish you could see the way I see you,” Angst- “You… why did it have to be you?”

Summary: The youngest Archeron sister has always been ignored and rejected by everyone. When she finally finds her mate in the Day Court who thought her heart could’ve broken more at the rejection of someone who was made to love her?

a/n i legit could not find any good headers for this so i downloaded 6 billion of them from pinterest, my sister had made this dress for herself and i had direct access to it thats why the description is so long 😭 im trying a new thing with describing facial features and stuff like that more lmk if u like it or not. ✨ not edited ✨

There was a ball in Day Court, almost all high fae were invited, and as the sister in law to the High Lord of Night Court it was compulsory for all of us to be there.

The dress I'm wearing is a masterpiece of intricacy and elegance, designed to captivate and command attention. Crafted from the finest materials, it combines delicate silk and ethereal lace, creating a harmonious blend of softness and sensuality. The color chosen is a rich midnight blue, reminiscent of the starry night sky that blankets the Night Court.

The bodice of the dress is a work of art, adorned with intricate silver and sapphire beadwork that accentuates the curves of the wearer. It plunges low, revealing a hint of the wearer's décolletage, while thin, delicate straps grace the shoulders, adding a touch of allure. The back of the dress dips in a graceful V, teasing a glimpse of smooth, exposed skin.

From the waist, the dress cascades into a flowing skirt, made of layers of diaphanous silk that sways with every step. The fabric is sheer and airy, allowing a tantalizing view of the wearer's legs as she moves, creating an alluring dance between modesty and seduction. The hemline is asymmetrical, with delicate lace trim that adds a touch of whimsy and femininity.

As I move, the dress catches the light, shimmering and sparkling like a constellation in the moonlit sky. It exudes an air of confidence and sophistication, empowering the woman who wears it to embrace her inner strength and beauty.

The dress wasn't my first choice though. My first choice was an indigo dress with a sweetheart neckline, that showed just enough of my cleavage to not be named as slutty. It had a slit that showed my whole right leg, but Elain had liked that dress after she saw it in my wardrobe, so I gave it to her.

She always got what she wanted.

I wasn't a type of feminine beauty like my sisters. They all had graceful features and beautiful dainty blonde hair. Nesta and I were the most similar with our sharp features.

But that's where the similarities ended.

My hair was a lustrous cascade of ebony strands, shimmered like a moonless night sky, reflecting an ethereal sheen with every subtle movement. Its glossy surface captured the light, revealing depths of darkness that held an irresistible allure.

Once I had slipped my heels on, I headed down the stairs where everyone else was waiting for me. My lips curved into a sly smile when everyone's attention was on me, glancing over the room, my eyes stopped at Elain. Her dress (my dress) was falling at all the wrong places.

She wasn't as curvy as me, Nesta and Feyre. I don't get why she would want the dress, it's obviously not fitting her properly. Ignoring Elain's incessant huffing, I head to Nesta and Cassian.

“You look absolutely breathtaking tonight, sister,” I compliment, giggling.

“I love this dress on you,” she gushes.

Nesta was my best friend, my confidant, the sister who cared for me.

“But I would’ve loved to have seen the other dress on you,” she continues. “You shouldn’t have given it to Elain,”.

“Oh it’s fine, look at the absolute beauty I have found instead,” I reassure.

“Elain are you sure you don’t want to change your dress,” Feyre asks.

Nesta and I snicker behind our hands, Elain turns around towards us and I watch in glee as her faces turns into a scowl.

“I’m fine can we leave already” she snaps.

Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

Cassian winnows Nesta, Rhysand and Feyre, Azriel and Elain, while Mor winnows me.

Landing outside the day court palace, I mentally take in the beauty of the place. The sandy blocks making the palace and the beautiful candles hung at every corner. There truly is no darkness.

I look down at my dress, skepticism glazes over my face. I shouldn’t have worn such an eye catching dress.

How was I meant to know that there would be lights everywhere?

Cauldron fucking boil me.

After some mindless chatter with Feyre about how excited she is to show me her paintings. We’re escorted inside to see the High Lord of the Day Court lounging on his throne, looking like the childish playboy he is. Even though he was centuries old.

His beauty was otherworldly, the way his onyx locks cascaded down his back like they were paid to do so. Piercing amber orbs stared down at everyone. Clad in only a white fabric that was draped over him, he had an easy going presence to him. The sharp points of his golden crown glinting under the bright lights.

But the vision next to him put the Night Court stars to a shame. He was the sun personified. Tan skin, lighter than his father’s but darker than mine. Auburn red hair, similar to his father’s in length, rested along his back. A scar ran from just above his eyebrow to his jaw. His eyes met mine, maroon and golden. His features picked apart weren’t attractive but somehow together on him, he looked like a god.

My breath caught in my throat as my eyes blurred in and out of focus. Once they went back to normal I saw a single golden thread tugging. My eyes followed the thread back to Lucien.

I ran outside. Mother’s tits, I found my mate.

I gave an experimental tug on the bond revelling in the feeling of being complete. Tugging on it again, I let him know I wanted to see him.

Sitting there on the roof, I waited for five minutes, then ten, soon twenty and as quickly as my hope had been born it had faded away. But still remnants of it remained, maybe he couldn’t get away so soon, after all he was the heir to the Day Court.

Holy shit, he was the heir to the Day Court, what if he wanted nothing to do with me?

My thoughts spiralled one after the other.

A throat cleared behind me. Turning around to look at Lucien, I beckon him over.

“I’m Y/N, I already know who you are so introductions won’t be necessary” My attempt at a joke fails.

Finally taking a closer look at his face, I take in the pained expression. “Are you all right?” concern laces my voice, I stand up and whisper, “Have you had enough to eat you look like you’re about to pass out,”.

I’m about to leave and grab him some food, when he speaks, “You… why did it have to be you?”.

I freeze in place, I don’t dare to turn around. My mind flashes with memories of Feyre not wanting to teach me archery because she was busy, or how the boys at Rita’s never even looked at me, or how Elain took it upon herself to make me hate everything about me, or how everyone had their other half and I had just found mine. But not even a full hour of knowing me he hated me.

And somehow after all those years of rejection, self hatred and jealousy my heart broke one last time.

I assume he could feel it through the bond, as I wasn’t all that used to blocking people out of my mind yet.

I run down the stairs to get off the roof, to get as far away from him as possible.

Finally, finding an unoccupied balcony on the opposite side of the palace, I settled there, sobbing my broken heart out. The kohl from my eyes streaming down my face. My fingers red from rubbing my stinging eyes.

I looked around at the material of the dress pillowing around me. Such a waste of such a breathtaking dress.

Soft crying filled the room, my ears were ringing as I hadn’t heard the High Lord of Day Court enter.

“My dear, may I ask what’s wrong?” He asked, worry evident in his voice.

Gasping I stood up and did a sorry excuse of a curtesy, “High Lord” I bowed my head.

“Helion is fine,”

He sat down right next to the place where I was sitting. His muscled arm gently tapped the spot beside him as an invitation.

I sit down, smoothing my skirts out.

As if he can sense the awkwardness he clears his throat and says “We can stay quiet or we can talk about my son or your mate?”.

My eyes widen in shock. “How do you know me?” I mutter out.

“Sunshine I’m the High Lord of Day Court and unbeknownst to you, Rhysand talks a lot about you during meetings so most of the high lords consider you a little sister, but for me you’re like the daughter I never had,” he confesses.

A man I had not met before today, considered me his daughter, and six other high lords think of me as a little sister. My eyes well up in tears, my father had been one of the only people other than Nesta to ever truely care about me. And I had cried for months when he died.

To have someone think of me as their daughter again brought out a fresh wave of tears.

As if reflex, my head rests against Helion’s shoulder, we gaze into the night sky, in a comfortable silence. A strong hand reaches out and softly taps my head in a soothing rhythm.

“It’s ok sunshine.” he whispers.

After a while my tears stain my cheeks, Helion speaks up “I think you should give your mate another chance, I think you’ve mistaken his intentions,”.

Taking in his advice, I wordlessly stand up and hug the high lord. “Thank you” I breathe out.

Pulling away, I walk through corridors in search of Lucien.

A hand grabs mine and pulls me into a dark corner, while another hand muffles my screams.

I’m about to put the training Cassian gave me into use when I see a familiar pair of mismatched eyes.

“You can’t scream, I just wanted to talk to you,” he pleaded. Once his hand reluctantly leaves my mouth, I nod as a signal for him to keep going.

“When I said what I said before, I didn’t mean it as if you weren’t good enough for me,” he started. “I meant it as I didn’t think I was good enough for you.” My eyes soften at his words. “I mean yes I am devastatingly handsome,” I roll my eyes at his smug words, unable to hide my own smile when his lips twitch upwards.

“But I don’t think I could ever be good enough for you, a thousand lifetimes over,” he whispers, impossibly close to me but at the same time painfully far away.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, Lucien,” I mumble cupping his cheek. “Please have me,” he murmurs.

I grab his face gently and fuse our lips together.

“I’m yours, if you’re mine,”

a/n i’m sorry girl dad!helion is just too good to resist and like imagine being like a little sister to all the high lords (instead of heron it’d be eris), hope you like it anon 🫶🏻

[elucienweekofficial]

Instagram ・ AO3 Collection ・ Twitter ・ Event Masterlist

Thank you to everyone who participated in Day 2 of Elucien Week!

We did our best to keep track of all of the tumblr contributions below, but if we missed anyone or made any mistakes please assume best intentions and kindly reach out to one of our mods! 🌸🦊

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📝Fics, drabbles, and poetry:

Coming Forth By Day by @annaskareninas

Vines On a Tree by @teddyhoneybear

A Golden Nightgown by @fieldofdaisiies

My dearest, loveliest... by @sunshinebingo

Long Live by @separatist-apologist

Light the Fire Bright by @ataraxiasflame

ACOWAR (Elucien's Version) by @crazy-ache

Karma Is My Boyfriend by @rosanna-writer

…and the sun rises by @writtenonreceipts

A Heart of Gold by @jules-writes-stories

Something About April by @starsreminisce

What Do You Know About Love by @the-lonelybarricade

Lay Me Down In The Light by @acourtoflucien

Lantern's Light by @sonics-atelier

Pearls by @lady-sunbeam

Agony Tenderly Gilded by @booksnwriting

it's perpetual bliss by @avabrynne

nine by @onlyinmymiiiind

🎨Art:

Golden Hour by @climbthemountain2020

One single thread of gold by @tsunami-of-tears

Future High Lord & Lady of the Day Court commissioned by @lucienarcheron from artist @majuandrad

their love is golden commissioned by @lovelygwyneth from artist @/veigg_

it's golden commissioned by @separatist-apologist and @the-lonelybarricade from artist @dimalry

Elucien tangled in golden sheets by @whettpaint

The golden thread that ties Lucien to Elain by @works-of-heart

Fated/Golden by @positivewitch

Golden art commissioned by @separatist-apologist, @amandapearls, and @foreverinelysian

Aria Spellcleaver and her grandparents by @highladyofboleyncourt

Visiting Grandpa Archeron commissioned by @lulufoxlainfawn from artist @/sofiameriggi.art

Golden Fancraftart by @shallyne

𝒯𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 commissioned by @moonpatroclus from artist summergorgon

Laying together in a field of golden flowers by @nesta-apologist

Elain and Lucien are a farmers market commissioned by @gwynrieldefenseatty from artist @/mm.radish.art

Golden Art by @luciensdefenseattorney

now I see daylight by @velidewrites

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚 commissioned by @acourtdelaluna from artist @lyyzismess

Golden by @stargirlie25

Golden by @lib-arts

But It's Golden by @jadedbugart

Elucien Wedding by @artandbooknook

Elucien NSFW pieces 1 and 2 by @jadedbugart

Elucien in the forest at Golden Hour by @dawneternal

🎶Misc:

s u n l i g h t moodboard by @spore-loser

The Prythian Talk: Golden by @octobers-veryown

It's Golden Moodboard by @iheartfjords

Golden Moodboard and Analysis by @shadowisles-writes

SUNSHINE edit by @bookishwithathought

Elucien Twitter Soft Launch by @acotarmemes

Golden Wedding Jewelry by @shadowqueenjude

Day Court Elucien Persian Moodboard by @lainalit

Warrior of the Mind Moodboard by @starfall-spirit

A Court of Sun and Sight by @onlyinmymiiiind

Twitter meme by @lovelygwyneth

Golden Analysis by @acourtofthought

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Thank you as well to everyone who coloured today's Coloring Page!

Golden coloring page by @sadiegirl2021

Golden coloring page by @yaralulu

Golden coloring page by @the-lonelybarricade

Golden coloring page by @cauldronblssd

Golden coloring page by @shadowisles-writes

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If we missed one of your contributions, kindly reach out to one of our event runners!

Header art by @laxibbeb

[violetasteracademic]

Master list here if you'd like to read the entire fic Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow, or just enjoy this spicy scene that is perfect for this week's @elriel-month prompt! (there will be some spoilers and missing build up/context for the fic but live your life babes)

Thank you to @fauxdette a fellow Virgo who is unmatched at creating aesthetic vibes for graciously offering some guidance on how to make a stunning header!

If You Won't Touch Me

Chapter 4: Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow

Word Count: 3,625

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Orgasm control, orgasm edging, light bondage

Elain

Elain knew Azriel was watching her the entire way home. The winged hound trotted alongside her, and it only made her even angrier how positively precious it was. His tail wiggled as he walked, adorably over-sized eyes peering up at her every so often. Jagged little shadow teeth ready to snap at so much as a bug that dared to fly too close to her. She half wanted to pet him.

I’m not going to touch you, Elain. Not with my hands. Not with my mouth. Not with my tongue or my teeth. Not until you decide that I am the only one who will have the privilege of doing so.

She began to shiver again, and it had nothing to do with the cold. Azriel knew exactly what he was doing. How he affected her. He had to know she was bluffing about calling for Lucien… He had to know he was the only one she wanted. And still he refused her until she could admit it. Until she could promise he’d be the last male to ever touch her. Prick. What an absolute prick.

She’d almost told him that was already the plan, that she could never think twice about another male after him. But he decided to play games, and she didn’t want to let him win. To give him the satisfaction of knowing she came running after him, ready to offer whatever he asked for. Once again, she had exposed herself. Presented her body to him like a damn cake platter and he still turned away.

She almost went down that dark road again, nearly losing herself to the madness of questioning her own sanity when it came to Azriel, but… he had exposed himself tonight too, hadn’t he? Even if you are not my mate, Elain Archeron, somehow I am yours. She tilted her head up to the stars and took a deep breath. Reminding herself of the things he said, and how she felt the truth of them deep in her bones. It was real. It was always real.

She was here. In Velaris. Walking home under the starlight with Azriel’s shadowhound at her feet. She had very little doubt that Azriel himself was trailing nearby, keeping to the shadows.

He thought he was her mate, even if she was someone else’s. She didn’t care about any of that. The mating bond meant nothing to her, less than nothing. She didn’t need such a bond to know she could want him forever. But… it seemed to mean something to him. It seemed to mean a great deal to everyone except her. She had been Fae for well over a year now, but she still struggled to make sense of how archaic it all was. The human lands weren’t that much better in how they valued women. It was clear to her now that Grayson likely only wanted her for her dowry. But if she wanted to say no to him, she could have. He’d have had no grounds to go to war or kill over it. It was always her choice.

She made it back to the townhouse and saw Nuala and Cerridwen waiting quietly in the shadows. Azriel must have sent for them. They each gave a slight tilt of their heads in question. Elain only shook her head and extended her arms, letting them shadow-walk her into her room undetected. Rhys and Feyre were blessedly only here for one more night before they were to return to the river house and resume their High Lord and High Lady duties full time after a long Solstice break. Longer than usual, due to Feyre’s pregnancy.

“We’ll be here if you need us,” Nuala offered before giving her arms a gentle squeeze. Elain nodded graciously, but did not request that they stay. She needed to be alone.

Her skin was still flushed after she removed her coat. In fact, she was burning up. Gods, had she come down with a fever from walking around in the cold? She didn’t feel sick, just… hot. Hot all over. Rage and frustration and need sunk so deep beneath her skin she thought she might lose her mind.

I won’t touch you.

Fine. That was just fine. He wanted to play games? Maybe it was time for Azriel to learn what it felt like for her to take back control. To make him putty in her hands for once. She walked over to the window and pulled the curtains open. She could see where Azriel’s cluster of shadows hid in the dark corners of the garden. Watching. Listening. There was no doubt in her mind he was there. That he’d stay until he saw the lights go out, and a long while after that to make sure she was safe. She unlatched the window and pushed it open. The shadows perked up at the motion and began slithering up the walls.

He had no idea what he was in for.

She kept the dim faelights glowing and waited until she could sense the presence of Azriel and his shadows at the window. She twisted her hair around her wrist, pinning it atop her head to expose her neck. She slowly pulled her nightgown over her head and dropped it to the floor, leaving nothing but sheer underthings and her thigh high stockings behind. She went to unclasp her bra when she felt hands made of shadow wrap around her wrists.

Elain. She heard the shadows whisper into her mind. Azriel. Talking to her in the way only she could hear. Not the daemati powers that Feyre and Rhys shared with each other. But… something else.

What? She sent back, shrugging innocently as the shadows swarmed around her.

Is there a reason you flung your window open to the freezing cold and started undressing for all to see?

My room is feeling a little too warm. I needed fresh air. And not everyone can see me, Azriel. She reached for the back of her bra again. She wasn’t stopped this time. Only you.

In an instant, her window slid closed and the curtains drew shut. Azriel, or the outline of his form wreathed in shadow, kept to the corner of the room.

“What are you doing,” Azriel asked. No amusement in his voice.

She lost no confidence. He had already shown his hand, coming into her room in the blink of an eye just knowing she was undressing. He could have stayed at the apartment. Kept his shadows quiet in the garden. But he was here.

“You won’t touch me. So I have to take care of it myself.” She dropped her bra to the floor. Azriel’s shadows guttered. “Is there a problem? I don’t recall that being against your rules.” She slid her panties down to her ankles and gingerly stepped out of them. She had to stop herself from grinning as Azriel finally stepped out of the shadows, his hands white knuckled at his side.

She reached to start rolling down her stockings when shadows shot for her hands again.

“Wait,” Azriel whispered, his voice thick and dark. “Don’t take those off.”

She looked down at herself, stripped completely naked save for the stockings. Clarity set her skin on fire.

“You like the way these look, shadowsinger?” She asked sweetly.

Azriel didn’t speak. He only nodded.

“Very well, then.” Elain turned her back to him, taking a slow stride to the bed and swishing her hips more generously than was entirely necessary.

She crawled onto the bed, exposing her entire backside to him. She heard him mutter a low stream of curses and she bit her lip before propping herself up against the pillows and letting her legs fall open.

She was already slick between her thighs. The sheer sight of Azriel hardening through his pants and clenching his fists so hard he was shaking nearly sent her over the edge. She had spent her entire life being made to feel like the only thing about her that was worth anything was her beauty. But no one, no one had ever looked at her the way Azriel looked at her. From that very first moment, she felt as if he saw past her skin and into her soul. And while Lucien occasionally looked at her like he wanted her, falling prey to the call of the mating bond, Azriel looked at her like he would die if he couldn’t have her. It scared her, how mutual that feeling was. But it also made her brave.

“Where would you start, shadowsinger? If touching me wasn’t against your rules.” She smiled coyly.

Her smugness evaporated when Azriel sent out a wisp of shadow to clasp around her wrist. Her mouth fell open, and he guided her bound hand up to her lips, pushing her fingers inside.

“Suck,” Azriel ordered.

Elain gushed as she obeyed.

One point to Azriel. Oh gods. That fast, she was going to lose this game tonight.

Her chest was already heaving as he used his shadows to slide her wet fingers down to her peaked nipples.

“I’d start here,” Azriel said. Calm. He was too calm. And Elain was already writhing as she flicked her fingers over the sensitive spot Azriel had guided her to, drawing tight circles around her nipples until they were sharp as cut diamonds.

“You’re breaking the rules,” she panted, but there was very little fight in it.

His expression didn’t change at all as he led her fingers down her sternum, her stomach.

“Am I?” His eyes glittered, full of filthy menace as he said, “I believe I said I wouldn’t touch you with my hands, my mouth, tongue, or teeth.” That damn half grin began to grace his wicked lips. “I don’t recall saying anything about my shadows.”

Elain nearly arced clean off the bed as he sent another tendril out for her free hand and pinned it over her head. He slid the hand on her stomach a little farther down, but not far enough. Elain’s hips bucked, and she desperately tried to push through the shadows. To press her fingers exactly where she needed them.

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly, flicking his gaze to where he had her wrist pinned.

“Yes,” she whispered. She watched his cock almost rip the front seam of his pants when she said, “Harder.”

She loved the feeling of being restrained. Of him controlling every inch of her body. Her touch. It helped her to focus and simultaneously lose herself entirely. She didn’t want to be treated like a glass vase.

She had no idea how to express that a little pain sometimes felt so good, but she didn’t have to explain herself to Azriel. There was no judgment in his hungry gaze, only understanding. His eyes lit with unrestrained desire as the grip on her tightened, and her hips lifted in response. He dragged her fingers lower, right where she needed them. He only let her manage a few strokes before he pulled her hand away. Elain whined in frustration.

“Azriel,” she breathed. She tried to lower the hand he had pressed just above the apex of her thighs, but she couldn’t budge. “Please.”

He pushed himself off the wall and stalked to the edge of the bed.

“Please what?” Another tendril slid across her, this one pinning her hips down and stopping her writhing and thrusting. She tried to rub her thighs together, desperate for friction, only to feel her ankles yank apart. Her legs spread to each corner of the bed and held firm. Oh, she was gong to absolutely ruin him when she had the chance. He wasn’t the only one who had restraints at their disposal.

“Please, Azriel. I need to, I need…” she babbled, but couldn’t finish as more shadows swarmed, sliding over every inch of her. They ghosted over her nipples, swept along the curve of her nape. They slid into her hair and gave a sharp tug. Elain bit her lip to keep from crying out. “Please let me touch myself,” she begged.

“Can you be quiet?” Azriel’s eyes were roving over her. At the black threads keeping her restrained. It only made her wetter. His eyes glazed over as they traveled, drinking in the sight of her bare skin wreathed in his shadows. His gaze snagged at the swollen bud between her spread open legs. She was aching and throbbing and soaking the sheets. She couldn’t withstand it much longer.

“I’ll be quiet,” Elain nodded furiously.

As if he saw straight through the lie, he enveloped them in a brilliant cobalt shield. She felt the quiet settle over her, the blue glow casting her skin in a radiant hue and the world outside of their little bubble completely cut off. She loosed a sigh of relief.

Azriel got down on his knees at the edge of the bed, nostrils flaring as he came eye level with Elain’s slick and pulsing center. She pushed and pushed against her bonds, but he held her down tightly. Watching him drink in the sight and the scent of her only made her more needy. She was going to burst out of her skin.

He moved her fingers lower again, letting her just brush over her clit. So light and teasing she wanted to scream from the lack of friction.

“Please,” she cried. She was moments away from tears pricking her eyes, that’s how desperate she was for release.

“Since you asked so politely,” he slowly snaked a shadow clean up her center. She gasped as it continued a slow, torturous trail up her body. Over her breasts. Lightly gripping around her neck. With one final cool grin, Azriel released his hold on her. She didn’t even bother to consider what she looked like or if her body was displayed in a beautiful way as she plunged her fingers down between her thighs. She lost herself completely, riding harder than she ever had before and grabbing at her breasts with her free hand.

“Azriel,” she panted, too lost in the sensation to feel ashamed or embarrassed by him watching her. She dragged her fingers in and out, pressing her palm hard against her clit as she pumped. She had done this so many times. Had thought of no one but Azriel for over a year. But to feel the phantom touch of his shadows lingering on her skin, to breathe in his cedar and night chilled mist scent while she touched herself… it was beyond any fantasy she could have imagined.

She was close. She wasn’t sure how such a thing could be possible, but she felt as though she could have come just from the grip of Azriel’s shadows, the sight of him watching her, controlling where she could touch. She had never teased herself like that. Had never pushed herself to the limits of sanity, riding the edge of need and being denied what she wanted. She hated it. And she loved it. Her mouth fell open and she moaned, thrusting her hips harder into her hand. She cried out, panting as Azriel sent his shadows roving back over her, skating across every inch of her skin. Tracing the sensitive inside of her thigh, swirling around her nipples that were so hard now they could cut glass. They threaded through her hair, gently tugging at her scalp, and she shattered.

Stars blinked across her vision as her climax crashed over her in wave after wave. She kept riding, kept moving and losing herself to the feel of her orgasm and Azriel’s shadows until it hurt, until she she was too sensitive, and collapsed on the bed.

Sweat beaded across her skin. Her mind buzzed and her vision was foggy.

Azriel’s shadows began to massage her scalp in soothing strokes. Her eyes blinked open.

He was standing at the foot of the bed again, his pupils blown and chest visibly heaving. His cock was absolutely enormous in the outline of his pants, and Elain’s mouth went dry as she pushed herself onto her knees and took in how large he was. She reached for him.

“No,” Azriel stopped her with both hands on her wrists. “Not tonight.”

“Why?” She asked. They were still shielded. He had kept her screaming completely contained. If she knew he could do that, she might not have waited so long to strip naked in front of him.

“I won’t be able to cover my scent. I’ve already been here too long.” His face looked truly pained as his gaze slid down her body one last time. He shook his head, attempting to clear the fog of lust.

“Come here,” he said. His voice was gentle now. All signs of that commanding male holding her completely at his mercy disappeared. She crawled to the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling self conscious about her nakedness. As if he could sense her worry, his shadows whisked her nightgown off the floor.

“Arms up,” he said. She did as she was asked. “Good girl.”

She trembled as he replaced his shadows with his hands to tug the cool silk down her skin. Then, he pulled her in close for a tight hug. He enveloped her so completely, and she nuzzled into him. Into the strength of his body. His delicious scent.

It was so calming, so tender it left her breathless.

“I wish I could stay,” he said into her hair.

“I wish you could too.” she buried her face in his neck and he tightened his grip on her.

"Elain?" Azriel asked, softly gliding his mouth over her skin.

"Yes?" She breathed in reply.

“Don’t forget what happens when you try to tease me,” he whispered against the shell of her ear. She shuddered, her arousal stirring once again.

And then he was gone.

Elain waited for shame to wash over her, but it never did. That moment he had offered, brief as it was, to hold her afterwards… he hadn’t touched her apart from that. And somehow it was more caring and intimate than anything she had ever experienced with Grayson. Grayson had a tendency to focus on himself in bed. To grunt and heave over her until he was finished, then roll over and fall asleep. More often than not leaving her unsatisfied and sneaking quietly into the bathing chamber to tend to her own needs.

Yet Azriel…Azriel had kept his eyes on her, as if simply watching her find her pleasure was a dream. A gift. He had dragged it out, pushed her to the edge of near insanity. And he had wanted nothing in return but to hold her.

She trembled once again as she replayed those last words whispered into her ear.

Don’t forget what happens when you try to tease me.

She certainly wouldn’t. She didn’t think she would ever forget a single detail of this night. She wanted more of Azriel. She wanted to kiss him. To feel is skin. She wanted him inside her. But she also knew he crossed some boundaries tonight. For her. And it was enough. For now, it was more than enough.

She went to peek out through the curtains and saw the shadowhound keeping watch in the garden. He waggled his wispy tail and fluttered his wings at the sight of her. Elain brought her hand to her mouth to hold in her laug, and waved. He puffed out a breath of shadow in the shape of a heart, and Elain’s own heart clenched in her chest.

For the first night in such a long, long time, she slept deeply and without interruption. The nightmares never came.

She dreamed of a golden doe dancing through a valley of shadows. She had never seen anything so beautiful.

[xtaketwox]

Summary: The Archerons are new to London society. The rumors go that Viscount Archeron brought his daughters to London after the death of their mother in the south of France. Lucien is struck by the beauty of Elain Archeron from the first moment he sees her, but little does he know the Archeron family is hiding a secret that may just get him killed.

Fic Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Chapter Word Count: 3639

Master List; Read on AO3

A/N: Many thanks to @itsthedoodle for the header and for beta reading. Let me know if you'd like to be added to a tag list for the rest of the fic.

Chapter 1

“Do try not to look as though you are walking to the gallows.”

Lucien sighed as he walked toward his mother waiting at the top of the staircase. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have to if you hadn’t insinuated I was ready for marriage to every mother in town.”

His mother patted his face when he bent to kiss her cheek. “Not every mother. Only those with unmarried daughters.”

Lucien tried to make his face severe, although as usual, he found it difficult to be severe towards his mother. “I’ll ask that you not interfere in my life like this again. I haven’t been able to go anywhere this week without mothers shoving their daughters in my path.”

His mother sighed. “Seven sons and yet none are married. Can you blame me? I’d like to be a grandmother before I’m dead.”

Lucien scoffed. “You’ve hardly got one foot in the grave, Mother. Besides, I’m only twenty-seven. It’s Eris you should be hounding. He’s nearing forty.”

She sighed again, this time with a tinge of sadness. “Eris is Eris. You know as well as I do, there’s no talking him into something he doesn’t want to do.”

Lucien couldn’t blame Eris for not wanting to get married. None of his half-brothers seemed inclined to continue the Vanserra line. Their father, Beron, the Duke of Ottum, had been a bastard, by all accounts. He had died before Lucien was born, allowing his mother to marry the man she had loved since before she was forced to marry Beron and birth him six children. Lucien was a product of that union, had grown up witnessing how very in love his parents were. He supposed he understood why his mother was eager for him to marry, to perhaps find the same marital bliss she had with Helion, the Duke of Daitonn. What she failed to consider, however, was that marrying for love was nearly unheard of among the members of the British aristocracy. Matches were most often made for money and status.

His mother looped her hand into his arm and pulled him toward the stairs, at the bottom of which they were to greet their guests as they arrived for the ball. His father was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs, a smile on his face, his eyes soft as he watched his wife and son descend the stairs. 

“You look lovely, my dear,” Helion said, placing a kiss on her cheek. 

Lucien looked away from the open display of affection. It wasn’t indecent, but they were still his parents and he hardly wanted to witness their open affection. The doors to the house opened, the first of their guests arriving, and Lucien just barely stopped himself from sighing, preparing for a long evening in which every mother would be shoving their eligible daughters into his face.

He pasted on a polite smile, greeting each family as they entered, the minutes dragging by at a snail’s pace. At least when the dancing started, he would be doing something more than nodding his head and pretending he wasn’t bored out of his mind. Of course, then he’d be forced to make polite conversation while women batted their eyes at him and tried to inflate his ego. 

Lucien was nearly falling asleep as the last of their guests filtered into the ballroom, when a man and his daughter stepped through the door.  Lucien’s eyes widened and he quickly schooled his face to hide his shock. The daughter was a vision, quite easily the most beautiful woman to walk through their doors tonight. She was dressed in the latest fashion, but there was no hiding the luxury of the fabric, much finer than even his mother’s gown. The dark jade green dress had a bodice of fine velvet, the skirt made of row upon row of gossamer silk flaring out from her waist and falling delicately to the floor. The neckline drew delicately across her collarbones and the same gossamer silk formed the sleeves. Her matching gloves were finely sewn silk lace, and across her neck was hung a string of emeralds with matching dew drop emerald earrings. Her hair was a honey brown that glimmered in the light, the curls piled high on her head accentuating the soft curve of her neck. 

He leaned over to his mother as they approached. “Who is that?”

His mother frowned. “I don’t know.”

Before she could turned to his father to ask, the butler announced them. “Viscount Archeron and his daughter, Lady Elain Archeron.”

“Viscount,” Helion greeted, “I’m so pleased you could make it.” He turned toward Elain. “And how lovely to meet your daughter.” He gestured toward Lucien and his mother. “Allow me to introduce my wife, the Duchess of Daitonn and my son Lucien.”

Lucien nodded toward Elain even as his heart pattered strangely in his chest. “A pleasure.” Without stopping to think too hard about it, he said, “I don’t suppose you would do me the honor of the first dance?”

Elain’s smile was elegant and polite as she curtsied and held out her arm so Lucien could write his name on the card attached to her wrist. “It would be my pleasure.”

Lucien quickly wrote his name on the first line, already planning to request a second dance, and then stepped back with a nod. “Please enjoy the refreshments. The music should begin shortly.”

As the Viscount and his daughter walked away, Lucien’s mother turned to her husband. “How do you know them? I’ve never even heard of the Viscount.”

“I met the Viscount at Whites yesterday evening. He and his three daughters are new in town. They have been living in the south of France for most of his children’s lives. Apparently his wife was French, and after her death, he decided to move his daughters back to England, most likely in an attempt to find them a good match. I invited them this evening and plan to introduce the Viscount to some of the men.”

His mother clicked her tongue. “The poor dears, losing their mother like that and then to be uprooted. It must be awful. I wonder where the other two are this evening.”

“Perhaps they don’t feel up to merriment, given the circumstances of their moving to London,” Lucien offered.

His mother nodded. “Yes, you’re quite right. It must not have been too recent an occurrence, given they’re here and not wearing black, but I can imagine it must be difficult nonetheless.” She turned to Lucien with an eyebrow raised. “You were quick to claim Elain’s first dance.”

Lucien returned his mother’s stare. “Yes, well, I’m simply being a good host. It’s only fitting that as we’re the ones throwing this ball, I do my part to help the Viscount and his daughter fit in with the rest of London society.”

His mother hmm’d as his father chuckled. “Well,” she said, “just be careful you find out more about the lovely woman before you make a spectacle of yourself this time.”

Lucien scoffed. “I would never make a spectacle of myself.”

His mother raised her eyebrows. “Need I remind you of the time you declared yourself for Lady Jesminda, who was already engaged?”

Lucien winced. “That was a long time ago. I was barely twenty and I learned my lesson.”

Helion held out his arm for his wife, who placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Yes, well, remember that as the hosting family, you’ll need to dance with more than one young lady.”

Lucien barely contained his annoyed sigh as he walked beside his parents into the ballroom. His father nodded to the orchestra on the mezzanine and they immediately began a waltz. Lucien couldn’t help his smile as he found Elain and walked over to her.

He bowed and held out his hand. “Shall we?”

Elain curtsied and placed her gloved hand in his. He walked them to the center of the ballroom, all eyes on them as Lucien turned, placing one hand on her waist, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder as he clasped her other hand in his. As he started to move, other couples joined them on the floor. Lucien hardly noticed them, the vision that was Elain Archeron capturing his entire attention. It was a wonder he could remember the steps to the waltz.

“You’re a fine dancer, my lord,” Elain said, her voice as elegant as her gown. 

“You’re much more graceful than me, I’m afraid,” was his response.

Elain’s mouth curved as she tilted her eyes down. “My mother made sure that my sisters and I received dance instruction. I’ve been waltzing for many years now.”

“My father told me of the circumstances of your move to England. Please allow me to express my condolences.”

Another couple came careening toward them, and Lucien pulled Elain close to avoid a collision, his stomach flipping as her body came flush against his. He glared at the gentleman before reluctantly placing space between them once more. 

Elain looked up at him, the soft brown of her eyes reminding him of a fawn’s coat or warm honey. Her complexion was pale, but her eyes softened the otherwise cold look of her, and the overall effect was devastating. 

He swallowed hard, not remembering what they were speaking about until Elain said, “Thank you, my lord. It was quite a shock, but I do believe my father made the best decision when deciding to move us to England. It was quite difficult to be reminded of my mother in every stone.”

Lucien didn’t know what to say to that, which was unusual. He prided himself in his ability to talk his way through any situation, but something about Elain was halting his ability to think. “Yes. I can imagine that would be difficult.”

Elain gave him another soft smile. “Let us not speak of such dark topics. It’s not fitting for a ball, after all.”

Lucien smiled back, taking the not so subtle hint that Elain did not wish to speak of her mother’s passing. “You’re quite right.” He gripped her close once more when another pair of dancers brushed too close. Really, people ought to learn how to dance before subjecting their fellow dancers to their shoddy footwork. “Have you been in London long?”

Elain shook her head as she took a step back, once more putting space between them. “We arrived in town not three days ago.”

Lucien raised his eyebrows. “So soon? I’m surprised you’re not at home recovering from your voyage.”

Elain laughed softly, the sound reminding him of the sound of wind chimes, tinkling softly in the breeze. “That is why my sisters did not join us, but I cannot resist a ball.”

The waltz came to a close, so Elain stepped back, curtsying as Lucien bowed. When she made to let go of his hand, Lucien gripped it harder. 

“Forgive me for being so forward, but I was wondering if you still had dances available and if I might ask for another dance later this evening?”

Elain’s answering smile sent relief through his body. She held out her wrist once more and he took it and wrote his name on the last dance of the evening. “I shall see you for the last dance then,” he said as he let go of her wrist. She curtsied once more and walked over to her father. 

Lucien didn’t realize that he was staring until his mother whispered in his ear, “Remember there are other young ladies here that require partners.”

Lucien sighed. It was going to be a long night, but at least he had another dance with Elain Archeron to look forward to. He went to get a beverage before he became surrounded by ladies and their mothers.

The evening wore on not unpleasantly. Lucien enjoyed a ball, even if it was his mother’s attempt at marrying him off, the mothers of London’s society doing their best to help her. Some young ladies were terrible dancers and others were terrible conversationalists, but regardless, he had to admit he enjoyed himself. As well, there was the prospect of another dance with Elain to keep him happy.

Elain had spent the entire evening dancing, her card rapidly filling as the other eligible bachelors of London vyed for her attention. Lucien tried not to stare at them all, to wonder if she enjoyed their company more than his. He reminded himself that he didn’t wish to insult the ladies he himself was dancing with; it was not their fault that Elain Archeron had arrived in London to take away the attention of all the men in society. 

Still it was difficult to keep his eyes off the vision that was Elain as she twirled around the dance floor, so regal that she looked as if she were floating around the room, the silk of her skirt trailing after her. Eventually, the last dance of the evening was announced and Lucien did his best to walk calmly to where she was standing next to her father, a cup of punch in her hand. 

Her lips curved up as he bowed and held out his hand. “I believe this last dance is mine?”

She handed her cup to her father as she curtsied, taking his hand. He couldn’t help but wish that it was ok for ladies to remove their gloves, so that he might feel her skin against his. He walked her back to the center of the room and placed his hand on her waist.

As they started dancing about the room, he asked, “So, how was your first ball in London?”

She smiled, her eyes dancing and her cheeks flushed. “It was quite entertaining and just what I needed after several weeks of traveling.”

He knew he shouldn’t ask, that it wasn’t proper, but, “Have any of the gentlemen caught your eye this evening?”

He knew he should be embarrassed for being so bold, as well as for showing how much he cared about her answer, but couldn’t find it in himself to worry what she thought of him as her smile grew and her alluring eyes shifted down. “There are many fine gentlemen in London. The ladies are quite lucky to have such a pool from which to choose husbands, but you, sir, are the only gentleman with which I’ve shared two dances.”

Lucien didn’t bother to moderate his grin. “Well then, I hope to share many more dances with you in the future.” He tightened his grip on her waist before adding. “Perhaps I will also see you at the opera?”

Elain looked up at him, a coy smile on her face. “Perhaps.”

Lucien’s grin grew and they fell into a companionable silence as they moved about the room, staring into each other’s eyes. The urge to kiss her came over him quite suddenly and he just barely resisted. It would make him a bastard of the highest order if he were to kiss her in full view of London society, especially given she had been in town for a mere three days, but the urge remained nonetheless. 

When the song ended, Elain curtsied and Lucien held out his arm. “Will you allow me to escort you to your carriage?”

Elain placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. “You may.” 

Many people glanced their way as they made their way toward the front door, the women doing little to hide their disappointment that they weren’t the one on his arm and then men doing little to hide their envy that he was the one to escort Elain. No doubt Lucien would have to be quick if he decided to propose, as surely Elain would have men lined up around the block. 

When they reached the Viscount at the door, Lucien thanked them both for coming before asking if he could call upon Elain the following day. 

“You’ll have to excuse us,” the Viscount replied. “I indulged my middle daughter this evening, but our home is not yet ready to receive guests, and my other two daughters are not yet recovered from our long journey. Perhaps another time.”

Lucien nodded and smiled despite the disappointment coursing through him. “Of course. Another time then.”

He watched as the Viscount and Elain got into their carriage before turning back into the house, straight into the smirking face of his mother. 

“Well,” she said, “that was quite the success, I do think.”

Lucien looked to the ceiling and sighed in mock irritation. “I hate it when you’re right.”

She patted him on the cheek. “I know, my darling boy, but what else are mothers for if not to annoy their children with wisdom?”

Helion walked up, hand to his mouth as he yawned. It was nearly three in the morning. “Shall we, my dear?”

His mother nodded and looped her hand through his father’s arm. “I might just fall asleep standing up if I don’t find my bed soon.”

Lucien followed his parents up the stairs, turning in the opposite direction for his room. 

Despite not planning to spend the season finding a wife, one might just have dropped into his lap unexpectedly.

~~~~~~

The following evening, Lucien spent his time playing cards at White’s with his good friend Jurian and several other men. He had slept until nearly noon, but with Elain’s father declining his offer to visit, Lucien had seen no reason to get out of bed earlier. 

By the time he left the club it was nearing midnight and he was nearly drunk, having gone a little heavy handed on the wine throughout the night. He stared out the window as the carriage meandered down the road. There weren’t many carriages out at this time of night, so the trip back to his home shouldn’t take long. Still, he willed himself to sober up a bit. His mother hated to see him drunk and he hated to disappoint her. Eris had once alluded to the fact that Beron had been drunk regularly, so Lucien could certainly understand why it bothered her. 

They were just passing by the edge of the slums when a glint of golden hair caught his eye. He sat up, and peered out the window. Surely he was wrong. No lady would be alone this late at night, especially in this area of town. 

He rapped the top of the carriage. “Stop the carriage.”

The driver pulled over as a woman who looked very much like Elain Archeron turned into a dark alley, oblivious of the unsavory gentleman who was following close behind. Lucien’s heart was in his throat as he leapt out of the carriage before it had come to a complete stop. Elain—or whomever the woman was—was in trouble. He wasn’t quite sure how he would help her, having no weapon on him but his own two fists, but he could hardly leave her to be assaulted. He could only hope the man wasn’t carrying a knife or pistol with him. 

Lucien ran toward through the mud, nearly getting trampled by another carriage as he hurried across the street. The streets weren’t as noisy as during the day, but there was still enough sound that he couldn’t be certain of the scream he heard coming from the alley. He quickly pumped his legs, skidding to a halt in the dark alley, as his eyes adjusted to the dimness.

“Hey! What are—” He pulled up short, uncertain what exactly his eyes were seeing. 

The man who had followed the woman who looked like Elain into the alley was backed against the brick wall, his eyes glazed over as the woman pressed her lips to his neck. Lucien blinked for several seconds as the reality of what he was seeing caught up to him, the wine leaving his brain muddled. It appeared he wasn’t saving a woman from assault; rather, he had interrupted what appeared to be a romantic interlude.

“Pardon me,” he said, stepping back, now certain the woman could not be Elain Archeron. No woman in society would be in this part of town, and certainly not with her lips pressed against a man’s neck. 

“Help—me,” the man rasped, his fingers twitching toward Lucien, stopping him in his tracks. 

As if finally alerted to his presence, the woman pulled away, the man she had had her lips against sliding down the wall. Lucien’s eyes widened in horror as he realized the woman before him was indeed Elain Archeron.

Except his mind could not process what he was seeing. What appeared to be blood was dripping down one corner of her mouth. Her teeth also looked quite strange, two of them much longer than the rest, resting against her lips and calling to mind the word fangs. Lucien’s eyes flicked to the man now laying on the ground, at what appeared to be two puncture holes which were slowly leaking blood down his neck. When he looked back to Elain, it was to find her tongue darting out to capture the red liquid on the corner of her mouth.  Before his eyes, the sharp fangs grew shorter, sliding back behind her lips, and Elain grabbed a handkerchief and dabbed the rest of the blood off her chin. 

“I—I don’t understand.” Some subconscious part of him knew that he was in danger, forcing him to back up a step, even as his rational mind tried to explain away what he was seeing. There was no way that Elain Archeron, daughter of a viscount, could have overpowered that man, no way she was drinking his blood. There had to be some other explanation.

Elain sighed as she replaced her handkerchief, sorrow filling her eyes.

“Oh Lucien. I really wish you hadn’t seen that.”

[maddiesflame]

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