#like do i put this under elucien or under Feyre?

[rabbitlover1027]

Solstice Celebration

"Then we will look forward to seeing both of you in Summer six months from now."

Rhysand wrapped his arm around my waist. Normally, I would melt back against him, but saying farewell to Tarquin and Cresseida at my formal birthday celebration thrown by my mate, it was best to stay in full High Lady mode. I stood tall and thanked them both for coming. Tarquin had made a show of stating only he and Cresseida were leaving, which was no doubt a relief to Varian. Now he could turn his full attention to Amren.

I kissed them both good-bye on their cheek and watched them leave. The party hall Rhys had rented in the middle of the Rainbow was almost empty. Staff was already cleaning off tables. Rhysand had made the celebration a luncheon so that we could all be home and together by evening. High Lords, or an emissary, from each court had attended along with many Velaris residents. Rhysand had covered his surprise better than I when a tanned blonde male had arrived, sending regards from the Spring Court. He had not stayed to eat. It was good though. A sign Tamlin was rebuilding his court and hopefully had some interest in being cordial.

"I can't wait to get you home and give you your presents," Rhysand murmured in my ear.

I gave him a wicked grin.

"Thank you. Truly. I didn’t need a party, but this was nice."

His violet eyes sparkled. "Did you enjoy it?"

Before I could answer, the door to the hall opened. Two red heads and dark haired man entered. My heart rose slightly. I had been a little disappointed Lucien hadn't come. Better late than never.

Jurian’s eyes scanned the hall, taking in all that was left of the party, ever the general. Vassa stood, head high, and seemed to spread out into the spaces around her. I wished again that I could figure out how to break the spell cursed upon her. Rhys sensed my discomfort and rubbed his hand up my back.

"You're doing your best," he whispered.

I flashed him a grateful look before stepping towards our new guests. Vassa said something quiet to Lucien that caused him to roll his eyes. I saw the corner of her mouth tick up ever so slightly, entertained. He turned his head and looked straight to me, no search for his mate. My heart ached. I wished Lucien and my sister could find some resolution. I shook my hair back and headed his way as he headed mine.

Lucien held out a hand, but I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers sliding past his long hair. He squeezed me close, placing a soft kiss on my cheek.

"Happy Birthday, Feyre," he nodded a greeting at Rhys. My mate smiled at him. We turned to greet the remaining members of Lucien’s Band of Exiles.

Jurian bowed, and I felt Rhys tighten. It was never easy to tell if Jurian was mocking you or not. I decided to curtsy back to him and Vassa to diffuse the situation before it could start. She extended a hand and when I put mine in hers, she squeezed it.

"We were so happy for the invitation, Feyre Cursebreaker. We have many things to do today, but we wished to stop by and wish you a happy day," the words rolled off her tongue in a way that made me wish she had more to say.

She handed me a small box, wrapped in glossy, navy paper. I gave her a questioning look and she smiled. Looking first to Lucien and Jurian and finding no objections, I slipped my thumb under the edge of the paper and tore it open. A small white box opened to reveal two gorgeous earrings, deep blue flecked with white. Like a night sky.

I pressed a hand to my chest.

"They're gorgeous. Thank you."

Vassa smiled. "They're called sandstone. We hope you enjoy them."

She leaned forward and gave me a warm hug. An obvious good-bye. Jurian threw a thin lipped grin to my mate. I turned to Lucien.

"I'm happy you stopped by," I said to him. I meant it too.

"Good-bye, Feyre. We have some things planned for this evening. I'm sorry I won't be joining you," his mouth tightened. "I hope you have an enjoyable Solstice. Perhaps I can join you another time."

I understood. He'd told me. It was too much. It didn't mean I liked it, for him or for my sister. Once again, I wondered why they'd been made mates. I kept my face neutral.

"Of course," I replied.

I watched them turn and head for the door. I wondered what strength it took for him to come here time and again and leave unacknowledged by his mate. It hadn't escaped me that for once, he had brought no Solstice gift for her. I hadn't seen him look for her once. Perhaps he was giving up.

They were almost to the door when Elain appeared by my side, Nyx on her hip. She'd entertained him most of the party so Rhysand and I could mingle with guests.

"Feyre, would you take him, please?" she handed my son to me. He reached for me with warm, sticky fingers. I'd never known love could feel like this until Rhys and I had been blessed with Nyx. I took my son and kissed all over his face. I twisted into Rhys's arms, as he kissed both of us on the top of our heads. My family, perfect.

It was the way Rhys's body jolted, small enough I could only feel it, I would have never seen it, which caused me to look up. He was staring, a look of disbelief crossed his face before he turned to look at the table where Nesta and Cassian sat with Azriel and the rest of the Valkyries who had left the library to attend today. I turned my head to see what had surprised him.

Elain had followed the Exiles. Had stopped them. My eyes widened and I also looked to see if Nesta was watching. Nesta was. In fact, Nesta was openly staring. I guess Elain was shocking us all.

Before, as a human, they would have been too far away for me to hear. Now, as a fae, it was unavoidable. I couldn't have even pretended not to listen, as Elain’s voice spread softly through the room, clear and song like.

"Lord Lucien."

He faltered, froze momentarily, and then bowed to her.

"My Lady, please. Lord is the name for males of status. I'm currently far from any such thing. Lucien will suffice."

My sister bit her lip uncomfortably.

"You didn't respond to my sister's invitation to join us tonight for Solstice."

Jurian and Vassa traded a look before stepping closer to each other and farther away from my sister. Lucien paid no notice.

"No, my Lady," he swallowed. "You will not see me at Solstice this evening."

He bowed to her and stepped back. Pain not present when he spoke to me etched his face. He started to turn to Vassa and Jurian. Vassa even held out her hand. I wasn't sure if I should be grateful Lucien had her for support or if I should hate her for her clear disdain of my sister's interference of their leaving.

"Lucien," my sister choked on his name. "I brought this, in case you came to the party. It's for you."

She pulled a small satchel from pocket and handed it to him. The satchel was forest green with orange strings. He took it, his eyes searching her face. She gave no answers. Lucien pulled the strings loose and reached in, pulling out several long, thin strips of leather. He twisted them in his hand, threading them through his fingers. He stared at the gift from my sister.

I found it hard to breathe watching them, the sharp unspoken hurts bouncing inbetween them.

She frowned, "To tie your hair back. If you want. It falls in your face sometimes," her face was turning pink. She looked past him to where Jurian and Vassa looked on. She held Jurian's eye for only a moment and then curtsied deep to Vassa. She rose and turned towards Lucien, not meeting his astonished gaze. "Happy Solstice, Lor-, Lucien."

And then she left. She walked off, not to Nesta's table, but back towards the kitchen where Nuala and Ceridwen were getting ready to leave no doubt. Lucien stood oblivious to most of the room staring, watching as she left until Vassa gently pressed her hand to his back and whispered in his ear too softly for me to hear. Jurian threw a last look at all of us, and they slipped out the door. I looked back to Rhys and he shook his head, a suggestion to stay out of it. He left my side to go sit beside Azriel, who glared openly at my mate. I watched as they began talking, looking as though they were disagreeing about something and wondered if I could sneak into Rhys's mind to see what they were saying to each other. But then Nyx pouted for a snack, so I allowed myself the space to not think about my sister and her mate, nor mine and his dear friend. I pushed all worries aside to take care of the need that I could, and plucked a sliver of cheese off a tray for my son, savoring his pleased smile.

[snowdropflowers]

Elain is not in love with Lucien and does not want her.

Elain is in love with Azriel and wants her.

Ok. Now.

We don't have Elain's perspective yet. We don't know who he is in love with and who he wants. There is no need to make such big sentences when you haven't read Elain's perspective yet.

There are many things that E/riels forget. That Elain is in love with Graysen. We don't know how Elain feels about Graysen right now. SJM likes to take her characters around before mate. Example.

Aelin - Sam, Dorian, Chaol ➡️ Rowan

Chaol - Lithaen, Aelin, Nesryn ➡️ Yrene

Feyre - Isaac, Tamlin ➡️ Rhysand

Nesta - Tomas(Asshole!), One night stands ➡️ Cassian

Bryce - Reid, Connor ➡️ Hunt

Now you're telling me SJM won't do this for Elain?

Feyre was in love with Tamlin, so she went under the mountain. How many times did she say "I love you" to Tamlin and how many times did she have sex with him?But at the end of the day, Rhys and her are mates and they have a son. And it was clear from the first book that it would be with Rhys. This did not change in the second book. SJM left easter eggs in the first book that she will be with Rhys. SJM also dropped a bunch of easter eggs for Elucien and Gwynriel. You just need to read the necessary subtexts.

He left easter eggs in all his books for all his characters. You just have to read the subtexts.

My advice to E/riels is that they should read all 16 books of SJM. And they need to read books by other authors. They should put aside the idea of ​​three sisters and three brothers and read it again. Their only thoughts are these three sisters and three brothers. They don't think about anything else.

I always say it and I will say it again. There is only sexual attraction and lust between Elain and Azriel. There is no romance or chemistry.

[zenkindoflove]

10 desperately

For Elucien, but like, not an established relationship.

10...desperately.

Okay, Anon. This one got smutty. I mean, I read desperately and that's where my brain went. So this is very NSFW.

10…desperately

Elain closed her bedroom door, taking her first deep breath of the day. 

He was here, of course. And because he was here, that meant that her body was not her own. Her nose could always pick up his scent, even when he was in the adjacent room. Her eyes always found him, trailing over his lean frame, noticing how nicely his pants fit him. And her ears could hear the consistent beating of his heart, thud thud, thud thud, thud thud. 

It also meant that a more primal possession controlled her emotions. The part of her that ached for his touch.

She ignored it, of course. It was improper and senseless. Her mate was still a stranger to her, and despite the call of the mating bond, Elain was determined to maintain some of her dignity. 

An entire day of ignoring her instincts left her sore and sensitive. As she slipped on her nightgown, the brush of the fabric against her nipples infused a whimper in her throat. She squeezed her core, her sex tingling with desire. It had been like this since she was Made. As a human, she remembered having a libido, but whether it was being a Fae or the mating bond, Elain found that her sexual hunger could be insatiable at times. Lucien usually had the good sense to not stay the night, and she was able to take care of her needs without him in the house. However, tonight she had heard him agree to Feyre’s offer, citing that he had a little too much to drink. 

She could still hear his heart beating through the wall. He was put in the room down the hall, and if she listened close enough, she was sure she could hear his feet rustling against the floor as he got ready for bed. 

She slid under her covers, keeping her hands over the comforter. She closed her eyes, laying on her side, squeezing her thighs tightly together. She could ignore this. She could fall asleep. 

Her thoughts drifted as she laid there. She thought about what Lucien could be doing at that very moment. Was he lying in bed as well? Did he sleep in pajamas, or just sleep pants? Maybe he wore nothing to bed at all. Maybe beneath his sheets, he was hard, his cock aching to be touched like her pussy ached now. Maybe he ran his hand over himself, rubbing his palm against his shaft once to try and relieve some of the pressure. 

Elain rolled over on her stomach, pulling her top sheet around her and bunching it up underneath. She grinded her mound against it, seeking pressure on her throbbing clit. She knew that this alone wasn’t enough to fully satisfy her, but maybe she could soothe the growing need. Chase it away, at least until morning. She thought of Lucien. She had never seen his body, but she had a fantasy in her mind of what he would look like. She rocked her hips, biting her lip as the little release of pleasure only built her growing momentum. It seemed to only make her hunger worse. She groaned, rolling on her back as she stared up at the ceiling. 

She felt something new. Some new desire filled her chest. It was raw and jagged. It sunk its teeth into her and she purred, letting the new sensation stroke her up and down. Up and down, and then Elain realized, this desire was not her own. She popped her eyes open in surprise, as she pieced together what was happening. She was feeling Lucien’s arousal down the bond. And he was…taking care of himself. 

It was still her imagination, but she could see him more clearly now. He was naked, lying on his back in bed, stroking his erection in his fist, his head thrown back with his eyes closed shut. 

Elain bunched the bottom of her nightgown in her fists, pulling it up and over her breasts. She usually didn’t wear underwear to bed, and she immediately slid her fingers through her folds. She was soaking wet, her day-long arousal making her slick and ready. She explored first, feeling how swollen she had become, toying with her entrance as she tweaked one of her nipples, until she focused on the spot that she knew would take her all the way. She rubbed her clit slowly, more than familiar now with how much pressure and speed she needed. She could make this quick. If she could feel him, she knew he would be able to feel her. It terrified and excited her all at once. 

It was different this time. It felt like she had an audience, and it made her even more sensitive. She stroked her clit faster and faster, already a surge building inside of her. She could feel Lucien peaking too, his energy ferocious and needy. But just as she approached the edge of oblivion, she suddenly hit a wall. Her acceleration stopped and she petered out. 

“No,” she whined, and she tore her nightgown over her head. She still ached, having the distinct need to be filled, and filled by something big. Something that was just on the other side of the bond, still edging on the brink. 

She felt desperate. She knew she wasn’t thinking straight, but she had been dealing with all of this on her own for two, long, excruciating years. Her body was not her own as it tugged on the bond. 

Lucien winnowed in front of her bed in an instant, completely naked. His eyes trailed over her body, drinking her in before he prowled forward on his hands and knees across the bed. His body was even better than she imagined. All lean muscles and broad, thick shoulders and biceps. Elain held her breath as he hovered over her, and she darted her sight down, taking in that thick cock that stood in attention against his flat abs. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t touch her, as he waited for her to make the first move. 

She snatched him by the back of his head and pulled his face down to kiss him. She poured her desperation into that kiss. The need for him that never stopped bleeding. The pain of her own stubbornness, of her fear and her reluctance. How she couldn’t bring herself to think of what a first step might be. What knowing him would do to her. How she understood that after just one touch, she would be his forever. How she kept herself at a distance, not ready for forever yet. 

But oh, she had to be ready now, didn’t she? 

Her kiss was a signal for Lucien to finally let go. He kissed her with tongue, diving and lapping at hers, showing her exactly what the promise of his body held. His mouth never left hers as he slid his fingers through her slit, picking up where she left off as he circled her clit until she clung to his shoulders, and he swallowed her cry of ecstasy while she climaxed against his hand. 

As Elain came down from her high, the aching, desperate need was gone, satiated by Lucien’s expert fingers. But a new temptation cast a spell over her. She hooked her knees over Lucien’s hips, crossing her legs behind him as she pulled him flush against her sex. As Lucien tore his mouth away from hers, she chased after him with her tongue, swiping a lick over his teeth and lips. He dropped his face to the crook of her neck, inhaling with a deep sniff, before groaning and pulling his hips back. He reached a hand between them, lining his cock up at her entrance. 

He didn’t push inside of her immediately, and Elain grew impatient with his hesitancy. She practically growled, tightening her legs around his ass and pushing him forward. 

She only took moments to adjust before Lucien quickened his thrusts. They both knew this would be fast, neither of them considering taking it slow. This wasn’t about learning each other's bodies. This was about soothing a burn. Elain grabbed a fist full of Lucien’s hair, tugging him down so that he could kiss her again. She wanted him to fill her mouth as well as her pussy. He pounded into her, his hard, fast movements building her up again, this time to a peak fiercer and more dangerous. Elain realized she was meeting his thrusts too, jutting her hips forward so that her clit grinded against his pelvis. She forgot about being quiet, and as her orgasm crashed through her, the most feral wail rang out of her throat. Lucien groaned as he collapsed on top of her, chanting the word “Fuck” over and over into her ear. 

Elain loosened the grip on his hair, running her hands over his scalp in a gentle caress. Her entire body tingled, a hazy, blissful fog making her forget that she and Lucien had barely spoken ten words to each other since they met. She cradled him, loving the way he felt still hard inside of her. Once the haze faded, she knew they were in for the most awkward pillow talk of all time. But for now, she basked in the moment, feeling whole inside her body for the first time. 

Kiss prompts.

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

i finally have a explanation for why i find stan discussions of pre sob story feysand so irksome: the conversations always operate under the context of chapter 54. any critique of the relationship, or well rhysand’s part in it is always met with “well he knew they were mates” and even in stan-focused circles, this air of “his deranged behavior is fine because he was hurting keeping the bond to himself” combined with the quite horrific implications that a female can “get better” being near her mate, a la elucien, permeates everything. it’s fine that he so often places feyre in unnecessary danger because oh well, she needs to be put to work so she doesn’t just wallow in her misery (feyre was a test run to see if this would work on nesta and i swear they’ll do it to elain). it’s fine that he objectifies her (no seriously what the fuck was that comparing her tits to apples in front of someone she just met) because oh that’s just a mask so feyre won’t get scared by his “true feelings.” a) it is literally insane to think putting a traumatized 19 year old who’s just had her body greatly altered via RESURRECTION (feysus christ my beloved) is fine because “she could handle it” would you just throw a swimmer off a cliff and into a shallow lake because they could handle it? b) them being mates means fuck all when feyre was not privy to that information for damn near two-thirds of the book. a mating bond affects you mentally and physically and she didn’t know that. it is an egregious invasion of privacy and agency. the running joke of “just wait until chapter 54” will never have its legs cut off because it’s treated like a grand staircase that rhysand’s character climbs, elevating his behavior to “the lesser of two evils” when he is, in fact, both evils.

[starsreminisce]

Elucien Parallels in the Book

I was pulled from sleep by something tugging at my middle, a thread deep inside. I left Tamlin sleeping in the bed, his body heavy with exhaustion. In a few hours, we would be leaving Under the Mountain and returning home, and I didn’t want to wake him sooner than I had to. I prayed I would ever get to sleep that peacefully again. I knew who summoned me long before I opened the door to the hall and padded down it, stumbling and teetering every now and then as I adjusted to my new body, its new balance and rhythms.

I wanted to go home, to Velaris, but I had to stay, to make sure things were set in motion, that you were all right. So I waited as long as I could, then I sent a tug through the bond. Then you came to find me.

The sound seemed to startle Elain, who swiftly set down her teacup. She rose to her feet, and Lucien shot to his. “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “What—what was that?” Mor put a hand on my knee to keep me from rising, too. “It—it was a tug. On the bond.” Amren snapped, “Don’t you—wicked girl.” Then Nesta was standing in the threshold. “What did you do.” The words were as sharp as a blade. Lucien looked to her, then over to me. A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Nothing,” he said, and again faced his mate. “I’m sorry—if that unsettled you.” Elain sidled toward Nesta, who seemed to be at a near-simmer. “It felt … strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib.”

I think it was interesting that SJM placed the tugging in ACOTAR to explain it in ACOMAF, allowing readers to initially interpret it as the bargain's doing, only to later reveal it was something deeper and older connecting Feyre and Rhysand. Rereading ACOMAF with the knowledge that it was the mating bond all along offers a new perspective on what happens with Elain and Lucien throughout ACOWAR up to ACOSF.

In SJM's world, a bond snapping isn't equivalent to falling in love but rather evokes an instinctual need to protect. She has already established that Feyre has the agency to ignore the bond, which was a significant part of ACOMAF, emphasizing that it wasn't until she fell in love with Rhys that she realized her mating bond with Tamlin would never come—it had already happened to someone else.

It's not entirely fair to compare Elucien's and Feysand's bond snapping. For starters, Rhys and Feyre had already spent time together, whereas this is probably only the third time Elain and Lucien were in the same room. Additionally, Feyre's personality is more forward than Elain's, and Elain and Lucien are on equal footing regarding their meeting.

However, it is curious that the bond is placed in the same location, both males could tug on it, and both females reacted to it, suggesting that the bond is real.

SJM had ample opportunity to introduce the idea of multiple bonds. She hinted at it in TOG but resolved it quickly. All the players who could have orchestrated a fake mating bond died, including the Cauldron breaking and then repairing. The only one left would have been Koschei, but again, why would Koschei have bothered with Nesta when Elain and Lucien still had their bond for him to manipulate?

SJM's stories are pretty straightforward, and it seems as plain as this: Lucien, like Rhys, tugged on the bond, and Elain, like Feyre, felt it and reacted to it.

[tilseptemberends]

Post ACOSF Elucien snippet

Elain stared absently at the wall of the strange apartment. Not strange in that it looked odd, honestly most homes in Velaris had a very samey feel to them, but in that she hadn't expected to find herself coming here of all places. But where else did she have to go? There was not one place in this city that she could call her own. And going to her room in Feyre's new home was not an option. Not while the others were still there recovering from the night of Nesta's mating ceremony.

It hadn't just been the necklace... It was everything about the situation. How happy Gwyn looked as she twirled around in a corner with a veritable pack of shadows. How Azriel watched her with the smallest of smiles on his face. I'll bet he never thought that kissing her would be a mistake... Elain thought and immediately regretted it. Gwyn deserved to have someone look at her like that. It wasn't the preistess's fault. Wasn't that why Elain had refrained from commenting on the necklace till Gwyn brought it up herself? Azriel had watched them warily. Actually, warily was putting it rather mildly. He'd looked about ready to launch himself out of one of the nearby windows when Gwyn had approached her. Like he'd expected her to point out who he'd originally given the necklace to. As if she would ever be so graceless. She should have given him a good knock about the ears for thinking so little of her. Elain had simply said that the charm suited Gwyn and casually changed the subject so she wouldn't have to think about it a second longer. And then she'd found the first opportunity to excuse herself. And come here.

She'd started walking in the direction of the apartment without thinking. She just needed to get away from everyone. The inner circle. Nesta's new friends. All of them. Separately she could handle these developments in her life but they just kept coming. And before she knew it she was at his door, practically weeping that she didn't know where else to go.

"Damn, another one?" A hushed voice came from the next room and Elain lifted her head from one of the pillows. "How long did you live in Spring, and you still can't keep a house plant alive?" he spoke again and Elain blinked in surprise. Had she seen any houseplants last night? No, she'd been far too busy spiraling and kicking Lucien out of his own damn bedroom. Elain sat up and rubbed her face. She'd been so busy thinking about herself that she hadn't even considered that she might be intruding on his already sparse free time. She slowly got to her feet and paused as she caught sight of her reflection in a full-length mirror sat next to his armoire. She frowned. Not night court black but the charcoal grey was close enough. Who was she fooling with this getup? She might have shredded the dress with her bare hands if she had something else to change into. Elain shook her head and moved past the mirror to the bedroom door.

When she opened it she was struck by a few different things. The first being Lucien at the stove in his kitchen. The sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows as he cooked his breakfast. And second, the poorhouse plant he'd scolded himself about earlier. She tentatively approached and gave the pot a look. Yikes. She winced slightly at the condition of it and when she looked up she found that Lucien had turned in her direction. He stood very still, like he was scared she might bolt if he made any sudden moves. She cleared her throat lightly,

"Do you mind if I ask what your pot of mud used to be?" she asked and Lucien slowly set his plate back down on the counter.

"...it's a peace lily," he replied quietly and Elain snorted. She immediately covered her mouth and she knew her face had gone quite red. "I- Gods, I'm so sorry. That was so rude." Shit. SHIT. She was going to crawl under a rock and die. But then Lucien started laughing. His own face tinted pink. "I knew it was bad. In my defense, the flowers in Spring don't need maintaining." He pulled another mug down from the cupboard and Elain made sure she was looking at the dearly departed lily when he looked back at her. "Would you like some tea?" She folded her hands together and considered. "That won't... will it?" she couldn't bring herself ask finish the question aloud. Lucien filled the mug with hot water and set it on the counter next to her with a teabag and a spoon. "I don't think so. But just in case." Carefully, Elain slid the mug toward herself and did her best not to stare at his forearms. The bond was making maintaining a normal conversation excessively difficult this morning. But he walked back across the kitchen to grant her the space she need to think. Maybe he needed the space too. She dropped the teabag into the mug of water. "Thank you... for helping me." She tapped her spoon lightly on the counter. "It's alright. I... know what it's like to not feel like you have anywhere to go." Elain nodded to herself. How close she must have struck him last night with those words. I didn't know where else to go...

She rubbed her eyes and sighed heavily.

"I should go before Feyre sends the city guard out to search the streets for me..." Lucien considered her for a moment.

"Would you like me to walk you back?" And that offer... she swallowed and shook her head. "N-no... that's alright... I need some time to think before I see them." And I won't be able to if you're right next to me... she didn't finish. Lucien didn't insist though. If Elain wanted to walk herself back home after commandeering his bed for a night then he would let her. Something about that twisted her heart in a way she couldn't think about right here. More space. She needed some distance from him before she considered what it meant that she'd come here to escape the others.

Elain finished her tea and Lucien saw her to the door. He paused when he opened it though.

"Is something wrong?" she asked and he tapped his foot sharply. Weighing a decision apparently. He sighed and buried his hands in his pockets.

"You can come here any time you like, Elain. Even if I'm not around. There are wards on the door but... they'll let you in." He didn't look at her, instead staring hard and the ground between them. "I... thank you, Lucien." she spoke quietly and he nodded without another word. Without much else to say Elain turned and followed the Sidra back toward her sister's home.

[acourtofthought]

Ok bear with me as I figure out the words to express my ask to you. I am sorry if this ask/comment is confusing or a huge ramble.

So I have been thinking that it’s unfair for Nesta and Cassian to have a mate bond and yet Cassian still has to yield to Rhys even if it goes against his thoughts, opinions, and feelings for Nesta. I was very happy to read in SF Cassian being a little more assertive with Rhys. Like when Rhys invaded Nesta’s mind to warn her to be nice to Gwyn which upset Nesta because Gwyn and her have been working and now training together for days and all of sudden now Rhys is worried about Nesta’s actions to her new friend. And then Cassian finds out and kinda puts him in his place for doing that. He also really fought back with Rhys on not telling Nesta about her powers and also he also was arguing with Rhys on him being sent to the continent while Nesta and her friends were illegally kidnapped and sent into a battle arena. But even with all these moments where he argued back or was ready to throw fists he always just gives in and follows his High Lords orders.

Same thing for Az although he also has shown how much he will sacrifice for his High-Lady. You mention in another ask about how he refuse to leave the Hybern camp without Feyre which put Elain in danger.

And personally that is something that truly erks me. Cassian is Nesta’s mate and nothing should come between them even Rhys. Just like Rhys would destroy the world to save Feyre the same should be said for Cassian.

And well personally this is why I do enjoy the thought of Elain and Lucien together because Lucien’s main focus will be Elain’s happiness and safety and independence. He won’t bow down to Rhys because he doesn’t have too. Yes 😩, right now he does but thats because Rhys and the night court are in possession of Elain. But if she decides to leave, because it will be a very interesting story if Elain says she wants to leave NC and see how the IC reacts to that, (I still wonder what Rhys and Amren would have done if Nesta picked Banishment instead of House of Wind), it will nice to see Lucien tell the IC “no” when they request something of him that goes against Elain’s best interest. Elain deserves to be put first in her mates heart and dedication.

I would love the sisters and the Brother in Laws to have a more equal relationship instead of this constant hierarchy where Mates don’t come first unless they’re Feyre.

I agree with you and I think many others do as well! Cassian being part of the IC and working for Rhys does put him in an unfair position as it relates to Nesta. I think Sarah wrote it in a realistic way of course, he has a job and duties and has cared about protecting the NC for centuries so of course he doesn't want to risk their people and wants to respect his HL's orders but sometimes that means it's going to go against what Nesta thinks or wants. Just like we saw in HOFAS. Though I do think Sarah is going to continue Nesta's side arc and write the Valkyrie being an independent force, where she'll no longer be under Rhys's thumb and that will eliminate a lot of the drama as it involves Rhys and Nesta butting heads (and where Cassian is no longer in the middle). I do also love how Elucien won't necessarily be subject to the same issue though. I don't think it works for any of the sisters to have to obey Rhys as they would if they were truly going to be part of the IC. The point of the series is for the sisters to come into their own independently of one another and where they end up as equals, not being required to report to Feyre and her mate. And I do like that Lucien is set up to become an equal to Rhys in how he's a likely heir to the Day Court throne, where he's no longer there to do Rhys's bidding for a court he doesn't even have ties to but instead will command the same sort of respect for the decisions he makes as Rhys currently has. In short, there was no way around the Nessian / Rhys setup. Rhys and Nesta are both too stubborn not to come to blows and just because Cassian is mated to Nesta it doesn't always mean he's going to agree with her when her actions don't always line up with what he feels is the right thing for the NC and his HL.

[bookofmirth]

What comes after this - elucien 1/5

Summary:

Elain is put to the test as the Night Court’s newest diplomat. Her first job? To travel to the Day Court and go head-to-head with her mate. Lucien has recently established his position in the Day Court and knows two things. The first is that he dreams nonstop of a mate who seems to want nothing to do with him. The second is that he cannot, under any circumstances, allow her to get the best of him at the expense of his new court.

Tags | politics, fluff, mating bond, idk if it will get smutty but I do have a definite Plot, no warnings thus far

Written for @elucienweekofficial prompt "courtiers"

read it on AO3 | tagging: @thelovelymadone upon request and @spell-cleavers because I told her this has Helion and LoA and it does, just for her! | 3.9k words

---

Elain Archeron blinked in the brightness of the Day Court. She’d been to the Spring Court with its overabundance of gardens, the Dawn Court with its painterly skies, lived in the Night Court with its velvet-rich midnights, and somehow, she had not been able to fathom just how much more alive the light could be when it was at home in its namesake court.

Elain was jostled slightly in her carriage, one of the comforts of her human life that she hadn’t yet let go of. The Archerons had had more carriages than they needed, before the years they’d been forced to go everywhere by foot, unable to afford the care and keeping of even a single horse. The return of their ships - along with their father - had initially signaled a return to normal, but Elain hadn’t realized at the time that everything had irrevocably changed when that golden monster Tamlin had roared his way into their home.

Feyre offered to winnow Elain south to the Day Court, but the idea was too foreign for comfort. Elain had barely been able to enjoy the return of the warmth of her own bed and a wardrobe that wasn’t handed down from Nesta when humanity had been snatched away. And besides, she wasn’t entirely sure that she trusted magic. Feyre said that winnowing was perfectly safe, but Feyre also seemed to find the shadows and darkness of the Night Court a comfort. It was a darkness that Feyre insisted was soothing, but Elain couldn’t shake it while in her sister’s court, even when she sat under the full midday sun. The darkness there lay upon her like a too-heavy blanket, when all Elain wanted to do was slough it off and take her first true, deep breath in what felt like years.

But in the Day Court… Elain pulled back the small, flower-patterned curtains of the carriage window, closed her eyes to let the golden light dance on her lids. No, Elain would take her carriage. She would wear her human clothing and eat her human foods and cling to the last semblance of her old life for as long as she could. And she would bask in the sun of a foreign court, because she was nothing if not adaptable. She’d managed dinners and parties with the night looming over her, she could certainly do it in a court where things were laid bare and truthful by daylight.

Even this task, this trip to the Day Court, while it may have seemed outside the realm of comfort for Elain Archeron, was merely the same scene she’d been through a dozen times before, though set on a larger scale. If she could seamlessly make her way through a dinner with a lord on one side and his wife’s lover on the other, she could certainly manage her way through the political dilemmas the Night and Day courts had found themselves in.

The Day Court had something that the Night Court needed, and Elain was on her way there to ensure that it was done.

The carriage came to a slow stop and Elain clasped her hands in her lap to keep from pushing back the gauze curtains and looking eagerly from the window. It wouldn’t do to seem too eager, not as the representative of the Night Court and sister to a High Lady. She set her gaze forward on the lushly brocaded interior wall of the carriage and waited.

As the door opened, letting in fresh air and light with it, Elain gathered her skirts with one hand and extended the other, ready to be received by whichever footman had jockeyed for the position. She prepared her most convincing smile, the one that told everyone that she was glad to be there, that she would be perfectly polite, and that she would never, ever do anything unseemly.

Anyone present who knew Elain Archeron beyond the variety of smiles she wore would see how it slipped, just the smallest bit, when she saw the hand that clasped her own. She had spent her life fooling Nesta and Feyre with her smiles. They were armor, a mask, a shield that kept anyone from asking Elain how she truly fared. If she were truly happy.

But her mate? As she looked from Lucien’s hand to his face, frozen in a smile not unlike her own, Elain supposed that if anyone could see beyond the facade she had donned for this trip, it would be him. Which of course would complicate her task here greatly.

She’s known that he would be there, of course. Lucien had recently established himself in this, his home court, with his mother and new-found father at his side. He was the prodigal son, showing up just in time to keep the hounds from Helion’s back about his glaring lack of an heir. His arrival had been lauded and applauded and, when it became clear that Lucien’s powers indeed reflected the court of his true birth, and that they would, in time, rival that of even the most powerful High Lord.

Without a word from either of them, Elain stepped from the carriage, her hand in Lucien’s. As soon as she was steady on her feet, he resumed his position in the line with his family, welcoming Elain to the court.

Helion stepped forward, dark skin radiant in the sunlight, raised his hands, opened his arms, and brought Elain into an embrace. It seemed in keeping with what she’d heard of his generous nature, even if it wasn’t entirely appropriate for a political visit. Elain wondered if Helion would have greeted Rhysand or another High Lord in this way. But she was, she supposed, irrevocably connected to his family.

“Elain Archeron,” he said. “Please, allow me to welcome you to my court.” He gestured broadly to the facade of the palace they stood before, face radiating with pride. He pressed a hand to his chest and bowed ever so slightly. “And allow me to introduce you to my family.”

Elain’s heart warmed a bit at the way Helion phrased the introduction, at the realization that he’d not been able to introduce a guest to his wife and son before. Not publicly, not in such an unguarded, unrestricted manner like this. She felt her smile change to one of genuine appreciation of his joy.

“My wife and mate,” Helion said, “Solana. I don’t believe you have met.” He stepped aside, looking at Solana in pure admiration.

The Lady of… well, the former Lady of Autumn, Solana, stepped forward and clasped both of Elain’s hands in her own. A small smile broke over her face and she hesitated, patting the back of Elain’s hand, before releasing her.

“You know Lucien, of course” Helion said shortly.

And that son, the one Helion was so proud of, was her mate. Lucien Vanserra - with a slight panic, Elain realized that she didn’t know if he had kept Beron’s family name or not - stood straight as a poplar, hands clasped behind his back in a posture that seemed to keep him perpetually ready to bow. He waited to for a sign that he might speak, much more concerned with propriety than his father had been.

Helion said. “Before we begin with the formalities, I thought that you might settle yourself in. Find your rooms, and Solana can show you everything you need to know. And Lucien, should you need him, well. I suspect you know how to find one another.” Helion made a pointed glance from Lucien to Elain and back.

No one ever brought up her mate or mating bond to Elain. No one spoke of it even in those veiled terms, not where she could hear it, and Elain found herself tripping over her usual niceties. She curtsied quickly, probably not going low enough to be respectful, but enough to get the job done.

“Thank you for having me in your court. Lord Helion. Lady Solana.” She glanced at Lucien. “Lucien.” She looked quickly back to Helion. “Your home is… it’s stunning. I’ve never seen anything like it.” She blushed looking from Lucien to Helion. “I appreciate your offer, and I would like to refresh myself before we begin discussions.“

“Down to business, I see,” Helion chuckled. “Of course.” He gestured to Solana, letting Elain walk before him to enter the palace.

For it was palatial, the seat of the Day Court. If the city of Velaris was a collection of well-loved buildings scattered along the banks of the Sidra, then the place from which Helion ruled was what Elain had imagined when she’d dreamed of fairy tales and dashing princes as a child. She could hardly take it all in in one glance, and so she didn’t try. She walked through the large entrance, which could probably allow her carriage passage, and concentrated her attention on the hall before her. Anything else would be overwhelming.

Solana slipped her arm through Elain’s, guiding her. “I hope you don’t mind this.” She glanced down to their linked arms. “I don’t go for all that pomp and ceremony. Though growing up in the Autumn Court seems to have rubbed off on my son in more ways than one.” Solana looked down the hallway she had led them to so that Elain couldn’t fully read her expression.

“I don’t mind,” Elain answered. For all the kindness she showed others, it was rarely bestowed upon her. “If you let go I may get lost in the maze of these hallways.”

Solana’s laugh bounced off the walls like rays of light. “You’ll get used to it. Well,” she said, looking at Elain from the corner of her eye, “I don’t wish you difficulties in your negotiations, but the longer you stay, you’ll grow used to the palace and the more like home it will become.” She smiled, a small, secretive thing, and patted Elain on the hand.

Elain clamped her mouth shut and Solana led her through a series of hallways and sitting rooms, each one somehow featuring a wall of windows that let in the dwindling afternoon light. After a series of turns, peppered with comments on the history of the palace, Solana opened a door at what felt as far away from the main living areas as they could reach. She gestured to Elain, letting her walk into the room first.

Elain forgot the woman behind her and gapped at the room. A large, four-poster bed took up a large space on one wall, which faced a wall of windows that Elain was coming to realize had been planned into every possible room of the space. In the middle of that row of windows was a glass door, and beyond that, a private sitting area. Elain walked to the glass doors and pushed them open. Willow and wisteria blew gently in the breeze around the ivory-colored chairs and table. She closed her eyes to take the space in with her other senses. Leaves rustled, birds called, and if she concentrated enough, she could hear the distant sound of waves and smell the salty scent of the sea. The sun was warm on her hair as she rested her fingers on the back of a wrought iron chair.

Elain allowed herself to adopt one of her true smiles and turned towards Solana. “Thank you.”

***

It seemed that Helion wasn’t going to let Elain get straight to business.

A servant had come to her rooms to tell her the plans for the evening; the family generally took their dinner together and then went into one of the many sitting rooms to play card games, and Elain was invited to join them.

“Invited” didn’t seem like the right word, but Elain kept the protest to herself. She felt out of place, intruding on their family life when she was there for business. But if it helped her understand Helion better, then perhaps she could put up with an evening of casual relaxation en famille.

Even if she wasn’t, not really, part of the family.

Elain had prodded at the mating bond, that string tied to her rib, a few times during her preparations for dinner. It was quieter than usual, and she was grateful. Lucien’s presence - his mere existence - drove her to distraction most days, even when he was courts and continents away. She couldn’t afford to let him distract her while she was in the Day Court, one of the few tasks that Feyre and Rhys had trusted her with.

As Elain surveyed the dining room, she again wondered at the clash of sumptuous surroundings and the way that Helion had his arm thrown over the back of Solana’s chair, tipping her chin up to him so he could kiss her - at the dinner table, with guests - before returning to his meal. Lucien, at least, seemed aware of the impropriety, or perhaps, and Elain bit the inside of her cheek with amusement at this, he was a bit embarrassed by the freedom with which his parents loved one another. They reminded Elain enough of Feyre and Rhys that she was able to adjust to the freedom with which they loved one another, but Lucien, apparently, was less used to semi-public displays of affection between family members.

Elain had been startled out the stiffness of her manners by Helion and Solana’s welcome but was gradually warming up to them. It was hard not to admire the way that Helion and Solana expressed themselves freely and openly, when Elain had grown up in a household where doing so meant being ridiculed by her mother.

The meal spread before them all on the table: platters of spiced meats, flatbreads piled high, bowls dripped luscious sauces onto the silk tablecloth. It was the kind of meal that Elain had dreamed of during their years in the cabin, but, much like the reality of the Day Court palace, the reality far surpassed anything she could have imagined.

Lucien, seated next to Elain, had made polite small talk throughout the meal. Meanwhile, Elain had been able to feel the pulsing insistence of the bond more strongly than she had since she’d arrived, and she didn’t know enough about it to understand why. Feyre had told her tales of things she and Rhysand had gotten up to, activities made more pleasurable thanks to their mating bond. But sitting at this dinner table, with Lucien and trying her best to be professional and diplomatic and a lady, damnit, Elain could not imagine that she’d done anything to set that golden thread thrumming the way it was.

The last time Elain and Lucien had seen each other had been Solstice. Elain counted the years between them by the gifts he gave. The first year it had been the gloves, then the earrings, and last Solstice he came to the Night Court just long enough to leave her a cutting from a tree he’d found on the Continent, a tree that was now providing the first shade of its young life in Elain’s little garden in Velaris. He hadn’t even been there long enough for Elain to see him, but she knew instantly who the gift was from.

Elain had heard that distance made the heart grow fonder, but she didn’t understand how that was possible when Lucien was so busy respecting her space that she was barely able to see him one year to the next.

“If we are all done eating, let’s go into the solarium,” Helion was saying. “Elain, you and Lucien can discuss the itinerary for the next couple of days. I’m sure you will have much to say to one another.” He smiled at her, one of the sly smiles she and Nesta used to exchange when they planned to play a trick on their governess.

Elain smiled politely. “Of course. I look forward to chatting with your son.” She turned to Lucien. “Although if you’d like, I’d take a written itinerary as well.”

Lucien wiped his mouth with his napkin and set it on the table. “Unfortunately, I am learning that this family likes to talk about everything. So if you don’t mind, Lady Archeron, I will go over the plans with you and we can settle them to everyone’s best interests.”

Lucien rose from his seat and offered his hand to Elain. With a tight smile, she let him lead her from the table, down a candlelit hall, and to what Elain assumed was one of many solarium on the property. Helion and Solana followed closely behind them, her head resting on his shoulder and a content smile on her lips that made Elain’s chest ache. She had felt that way, and recently. But she could never tell Lucien that, not when it had been in her dreams, with him miles and centuries away.

Lucien gestured to a plush, cream-colored chair near a fire. The dwindling sunlight cast brilliant colors across the sky, which they could take full advantage of in the glass-ceilinged room. Elain sat in the proffered chair, her back straight, ready to being negotiations.

“You can relax, Elain,” Lucien said. “I’m not going to bite.” He settled into his own seat on the other side of the fire, ankles crossed and fingers laced. The ivory-colored silk of his jacket was embroidered with golden thread and Elain noted that, despite the whirlwind appearance of the dinner table, she couldn’t find a single spot of food or drink on him.

“I’m not sure about that,” Elain replied. “There is more than one way to take a bite out of someone.”

The corner of Lucien’s mouth lifted. “We’ve barely sat down for our after-dinner chat, Lady Archeron. I surely thought that sort of conversation would be better suited for when the sun had fully set.”

“If you only derive pleasure in such pursuits in the dark of night, I wonder at your being the heir of the Day Court.”

“Oh,” Lucien said, leaning forward. He uncrossed his ankles and draped his hands over the arm of his chair. His eyes shone, the magical one seeming to examine her even more closely, and a wisp of hair fell over his forehead. “They aren’t limited to the dark. Though I assumed that you would feel more comfortable there. Where no one might question that tight little smile you have on your face.”

Elain inhaled sharply and sat up straighter. Damn him. “I’ve heard tales of your witty repartee,” Elain said. She glanced around the room and caught Helion and Solana relaxed into one another, comfortable as if they were the only people in the room. “I thought you’d be more careful than to use it with me. Given the power I’ve been given on this trip.” She cleared her throat. “Given the position our courts seem to find themselves in.”

“It is good to know that my reputation proceeds me,” Lucien replied. “I never know what bits of information people will let slip to my… to my acquaintances.”

“Oh yes, Feyre told me that your sharp tongue sometimes makes up for a lack of conviction.”

Lucien flinched.

Elain grimaced internally and tried to keep all signs of it from her face. She watched as Lucien straightened his vest, which was already hugging the planes of his chest and in no need of adjustment. The bond that had been taut and vibrating between them suddenly went dark, quiet. Elain mourned it like a limb.

A butler walked by with a tray of champagne flutes and Elain took one, gratefully deploying the polite manners she knew she was capable of in the right conditions. Those conditions being that her mate wasn’t there looking so tall and well-dressed and with that hair he’d braided back with a silk ribbon, saying things that seemed perfectly acceptable on the surface but which she knew contained meanings intended to set her off balance.

“What I mean to say is that, if we can just get to the matter at hand, then I might make it back home in time for my nephew’s birthday.”

“Ah, yes,” Lucien said, seeming grateful for the change of subject, for the excuse to back away from the precipice of insults and accusations. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankles again as he reached for a glass of champagne without looking up to the tray. “Nyx. When is his birthday?”

“Two days.”

“And you were meant to leave in three.” He said it as a statement, but the words were laced with question. Are you leaving early? Can you really not stand to be here?

“Yes.” Elain finished the last of her champagne. “So if your itinerary has any room for me, or for us, to finish early, I would appreciate it. But without sacrificing true discussions, of course.”

A expression of indifference had settled over Lucien’s face again. “Well then, tomorrow we have breakfast, followed by a horse ride.”

“Horses?”

“Yes,” Lucien said. “I assume you ride. We’re going to take a trip to the coast. To see the territory in question. So that you, and the Night Court, has a better sense of what you are asking of the Day Court. Of us.”

“What other plans do you have on that list?”

“Well, after we visit the coast, we need to discuss what you see there. The next evening, we have invited some of our citizens to a ball.”

“A ball?” Elain perked up and cocked her head. “In a ballroom?” Her mind raced through the trunks of clothes that she had brought with her. Silk and embroidery suited for court life, and the opportunity to truly shine amongst people. It was precisely the opportunity she needed. Elain might not have known how to handle the easy intimacy that Helion shared with his wife and son, but she knew how to handle a room full of artistocrats and merchants.

“Yes,” Lucien answered, the whisper of a smile returning to his face. “The invitations are open to the court, and we wanted you to understand fully what you are asking of us, to meet the people who would be affected.”

Elain paused, making a noise to acknowledge his words. “You cannot change the date of the ball, I suppose. If I had to leave the day after tomorrow, early.”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“What did you have planned for the next day?”

“Oh, the next day, that one is the worst,” Lucien said. “We were planning on staying here and delving into the true discussion of just how our courts can work together. We feel that negotiations can begin only once you’ve seen the territory and the people. Without a true understanding of the repercussions of what you ask, negotiations will be meaningless.”

Elain tapped her foot. “Let’s start with the ride to the coast tomorrow, then. And we can see how things go.”

“Tomorrow, then?” Lucien stood with hands clasped behind his back, a gentlemanly posture but one that showed such contrasting restraint compared to the warm welcome his parents had given her.

“Tomorrow.”

[elliemarchetti]

Tamlin Week Day 5

I know this isn't exactly the type of content you would expect from me for the prompt shapeshifter of @tamlinweek, but as soon as I saw this coloring page by @thrumugnyr I couldn't resist the urge to open Paint and give myself a hour break to colour it like I used to do back when computers were not that accessible and made the sounds of an aerospace engine. I know it's not perfect, and that there will be at least a million people far more talented than me who will make this wonderful drawing into a true masterpiece, but you can't understand how grateful I am for the childlike joy you gave me, so I thought I'd share the result along with a short scene it inspired

Plot: War is only a distant memory, the Spring Court has returned to its former glory, and Tamlin is finally coming back to understand what it means to be loved.

Pairing: Tamlin x Elain x Lucien if you want to see it that way, just Elucien if you're not into throuples. Obviously, it's Tamlin centric.

Words: 444

Tamlin was dozing in the shade of a wisteria-covered gazebo, his large paws resting under his snout like a pillow, when he heard a disturbance in the silence of a lazy, clear afternoon. Elain must’ve noticed it too, her legs tensing a little on his side, but her delicate hands kept stroking the golden fur on his spine, the area she was preparing to be adorned with little, bright pink daphne flowers. It was one of her favourite pastimes, when he was in his beast form, to cover him in colourful arrangements.

“To make you less scary,” she had said when he confronted her after the second or third time it happened. “More approachable for the children.”

Tamlin was nearly sure it was an innocent lie to safe face, but he didn't mind the attention, or all those younglings hanging on his property, looking for advice about horse-riding, gardening, and love matters, therefore he had no intention of pressing the matter to obtain a more exhaustive answer. He didn't want to frighten her, or see her return to her sisters after the less than amicable departure from the Night Court that gave him a pretext to rebuild his friendship with Lucien. Against all odds, his best friend’s mate, the sister of the one who had broken his heart and robbed him of his subjects’ trust, had been a pleasant addition at the Manor; where Feyre was stubborn and immovable, Elain was affable and ready for constructive confrontations, and on those same occasions in which the youngest Archeron would’ve withdrawn into herself and put on a defensive attitude, the middle one had been able to remain objective and even help him.

“Have you really been lounging around here all this time?” Lucien asked, cheerfully, once he was within their field of vision. Tamlin sat up lazily, showing a hint of fangs at the emissary, a tacit warning not to interrupt the sacredness of their bonding.

“What do you think, did I exaggerate on the antlers?” Elain asked, nodding toward the intricate ivy wreath she had wrapped around the entire lenght.

“I think they’re gorgeous,” he replied, finally allowed to be soft and careless, before giving her a light kiss on the temple and dropping behind her, the back Tamlin had once been forced to whip resting on his side.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he added as he made himself comfortable, sinking down until his head was on the beast’s belly, like they used to sit in the meadow when he first came from Autumn, when Elain turned to shot him a questioning look. “I just wanted to spend some time with my favourite people.”

[aldbooks]

I’ve seen a lot of posts circulating through the Lucien tag about how just because Elain and Lucien have a mating bond, doesn’t mean they’ll end up together. If that’s really what you think, fine that’s your prerogative. Ship what you want to ship no one’s stopping you.

However, the author of each seems to be under the impression that all Eluciens (or even most) only want them together because of the bond. (Really they seem to think anyone who ship anything other than their preferred ship has, at best, only the barest reasons for doing so or, at worst, is a terrible, disgusting person. But that’s a conversation for another time)

Let’s be clear. We don’t think they’re a match because they have a bond. We only think that’s why they’ll be end game (because that’s how SJM writes).

We think they’re a match because what we know of them both so far makes them seem (if I’m honest) far more compatible than either Feysand or Nessian. Their personalities and temperaments are similar, they seem to have similar values. Everything about them both screams of a really good pairing.

Another point I keep seeing is that there’s no emotional connection between them unlike existed with the other couples prior to accepting the bond. No shit. That would require they actually know each other and here is where I put full blame on Elain. No, she doesn’t owe him anything but she can’t complain that he doesn’t know her when she won’t let him know her.

And Lucien does try. No one can say he doesn’t. The man risked his life following Feyre all the way across Prythian, with no magic, helped keep her alive on the way there, just to get a chance to meet Elain. And when he got there, was immediately disregarded by everyone, and treated with contempt. (Yet you don’t see him throwing a tantrum over being kept from her) He visits when he’s invited and tries to speak with her only to back off when she won’t give him the time of day.

We still don’t know why she does this. We won’t until we finally get a look inside her head. But I don’t think it’s for reasons most people seem to think and I do believe that once she actually gives him a fair chance, she’ll like him.

As for why the idea of rejecting the bond was brought up, honestly I think it was to hint at other potentially rejected bonds (a la LoA/Helion or Eris/Mor) but, as I’ve seen so many examples of in fanfic, it could be that we’ll see Elain reject the bond, only to succumb to it anyway once the pressure is gone and she actually gets to know Lucien. It doesn’t automatically spell doom for them. Especially if you’ve read enough fated mate/rejected mate stories.

[animezinglife]

I love how you write Elucien and think you would do Gwynriel justice too!! What's your favourite part of writing Elucien?

Aw, thank you, hon!

Honestly, it's who they are as people. I love all the subtle ways in which their temperaments, interests, and skillsets complement each other, but more than that, it's their inherent kindness that brings me a lot of peace to write. Writing them is very much a stress-relief activity for me, and I love exploring what their relationship could be during the quiet moments.

I think about the way we've already seen Lucien comforting Feyre and his gentleness towards her even when he's upset, stressed, and has just had his life ripped out from under him. Everybody's aware of his sass and sharp tongue--and I love that about him--but I don't always feel like that softer side of him gets as much appreciation as the rest. He held Feyre against him to keep her warm in that cave. It's survival, yes, but there's still a gentleness in how he did it even though they were exchanging some pretty harsh perspectives.

I think of how he held her when she had her "nightmare." I think of how fiercely he loved Jesminda, and how fully he trusted Elain's visions. I think of how he put himself between Feyre and Rhys in the first book to shield and hide her from him thinking he was a threat to her.

That's a side I simply adore leaning into and thinking about the warmth and safety it would bring to Elain's life in a way that genuinely suits her. I love how she'd never have to give up broadening her horizons or growing at her own pace without having that strong, reliable presence and partner in him.

As for Elain, as of right now she's the sister I relate to most in the relationship front. The shutting down, the hiding from it, those walls that come up whether intentionally or not--all of it hits a little close to home. It's a means of protecting herself even if she doesn't realize it, and Lucien--while never a threat to her safety--absolutely is one to her heart right now.

Beyond that, I love the air of mystery to her and exploring all the ways in which a relationship between them could benefit her without losing the core components of herself.

She can love all of life's simplicities, and still appreciate what a big world she lives in.

She can come into her power in a way that doesn't bring bloodshed; that leans into the strengths she already possesses and just needs to fine-tune (strengths her mate conveniently has mastered).

I love exploring all the ways in which her confidence has grown: that she's come into a life she's genuinely active in, present in, and enjoys. That she can explore her sexuality with him and be completely safe in doing so with no pressure (and, at least in the settings I tend to write them in, away from the prying eyes of the least-Puritanical people ever who suddenly act like Puritan chaperones at a junior high dance when they're concerned and are entirely too up in their business for them being a grown man and woman). I like exploring all the ways it's comfortable and natural between them.

I love all the ways they could still be completely, authentically themselves but still fit perfectly together, and I love them finding a home in each other.

I'm very much a "home" writer in my original fiction as well and focus on relationships, so that naturally carries into fic writing.

All of this to say, it has everything to do with who they are and all they could be.

Thank you for the ask!

[andrigyn]

38 for Elucien

Ok this was fun because I have never written elucien before! Part of me wants to actually extend this and make it better.

Prompt: “You fainted… straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Lucien and Elain had come to a sort of truce after the war, one that was never spoken aloud. When Lucien was around, he was to leave his mate alone. He didn’t seem to have any trouble keeping his end of the deal, but Elain found it more difficult as time went on to remain aloof.

At first, it was a harmless, lingering glance. Then, it was a brief moment of eye contact… with his good eye, of course. There had been no words between them, but this was because Elain didn’t have them yet.

She had been so wrought with grief after her failed engagement that she pushed the male aside. It was too late now to change her mind. 

Because as Elain pushed, Nesta naturally came to her defense. Her sister was too surly to argue with, and her words cut like a knife. But as it turned out, there wasn’t much for Nesta to defend her from. Lucien was almost too understanding. 

It made Elain doubt what Rhys had said about a rejected bond driving males to insanity, because she couldn’t picture her mate ever acting that way. He was too kind, gentle, and poised. 

There was something so captivating about him that she could see clearly now, and it wasn’t just his good looks. The male’s high cheekbones, and tanned skin framed by blazing red hair made him stand out instantly in a crowd, but there was so much more to him than that. 

He possessed a quick wit, and chose his words tactfully. Elain admired him for that. She had always been a quiet girl by nature, but even as she grew into adulthood, there was no shortage of others willing to speak for her. Most often it was Nesta, but other times Feyre would step in. 

Nesta the chaperone was currently locked in the house of wind, and Feyre had likely gone to bed for the night. This meant there would be no need for Elain to explain herself for seeking Lucien out. No one would even have to know. 

The bond was useful for many things, such as being able to sense the Autumn male’s location, and that he was alone.

The courtyard where he stood was not far from her room, and offered a breathtaking view of the Sidra. 

“I’m surprised you’re still here, you usually don’t stay past the meeting,” Elain said. 

“You’ve broken your silence,” Lucien said with a smile.

Elain paused, unsure of how to respond. She walked closer to meet him by the stone railing. She leaned over the edge and let her elbows rest there. The sky was dark, and speckled with stars. Even so, it still invoked a feeling of emptiness. 

“Running one’s mouth is not a virtue,” Elain replied. 

The rough cast stone was uncomfortable under her elbows, so she stood up. But once Elain was upright, she was whisked away to another plane of existence… another time. Another one of her visions. 

She hadn’t learned how to harness her powers as a seer, if that was at all possible. A vision could grip her mind at any time, so abruptly that it scared the others. Elain was always a bystander in her premonitions, and this time it was nothing new. 

Cassian’s death... again.

She must have seen it five times by now, but she didn't tell a soul, especially not Nesta. Nobody liked to be the bearer of bad news, but Elain especially abhorred the position her god forsaken gift put her in. There was nothing to be done to help the Illyrian now anyways, so what good would it do? 

Elain snapped back to the courtyard, but she wasn’t standing. She was resting in Lucien’s arms. 

“You fainted… straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 

[rosanna-writer]

So…what about an ACOTAR Regency!AU? Maybe something a la Pride and Prejudice with Feysand?

There's a post I saw on my dash a while ago (I wanna say it was from @temperedink?) about P&P and ACOTAR that came to the conclusion that a true P&P retelling is hard to make work for ACOTAR without more or less twisting the characters into something unrecognizable, which tbh I broadly agree with. At least for Feysand, Rhys is too suave to be a Darcy, you know?

Also A Rake By Any Other Name and As The River Flows are top-notch regency (or regency-with-magic) feysand fics that I highly recommend!

But anyway putting this under a cut because....the thoughts are long.

I DO love the idea of exploring a regency-adjacent setting with fae nobility within the realm of ACOTAR fic. Mating bonds add a ton of interesting wrinkles to the typical storylines you see in a regency setting (Is it less of a scandal if the person you run off and elope with is your mate? Marrying for money vs being with your mate??? In a world where the mating bond is revered above everything else??? The DRAMA!!!)

So I really think to do the concept justice, the fic would HAVE to be, at its heart, three interlocking stories, one for each of the Archeron sisters. Because in a setting like regency, a world where women don't have a lot of economic independence and family reputation has such tangible effects, there are so many difficult situations you can put the sisters in where their choices affect each other. For example, if Nesta follows her heart and runs off with Cassian, she might be happy, but is a bastard-born Illyrian foot soldier going to be able to support her sisters, too? Or will that choice just heighten Elain and Feyre's sense of duty to marry for money? Elain and Lucien might be mates, but since he's Tamlin's emissary and exiled from Autumn, does that mean if Papa Archeron dies, Feyre and Nesta will need to pack up and move to Spring until they're married off?

And then of course.....if Nesta and Elain both follow their hearts, that leaves known awkward wild-child Feyre to "save the day" (assuming this is a scenario like P&P where the sisters can't inherit). There's plenty of potential for Rhys's parents to still be alive (and disapprove or be openly skeptical of Feyre as future Lady of the Night Court, potential shenanigans with his sister causing problems....) OR for Rhys to be more worried about coming into his own as a new, grief-stricken High Lord than finding a wife (and maybe getting pressure to find one anyway).

You could easily wind up in a situation where each sister is simultaneously embroiled in a love triangle of her own (probably something like Neris vs Nessian, Feylin vs Feysand, and Elriel vs Elucien), which sounds INCREDIBLE to read but my god the outlining that would require!!!

AND there's the whole question of if the Archerons are fae nobility in this AU.....where are they from? Velaris? The Court of Nightmares? A different Court entirely????

There is SO MUCH POTENTIAL with this concept, and I may return to it when I feel like I have the bandwidth to write something with like....ten million things going on in the same fic.

[zenkindoflove]

Elucien and Sarion Parallels

Ever since I finished HOFAS, I can't help but think of all the parallels between Elain x Lucien and Sathia x Tharion. It's definitely not a coincidence and it makes me have big high hopes for both ships in the future of their series. So I made a big list of all the ways their characters and situations are paralleling each other. HOFAS spoilers under the cut.

This is the most obvious parallel. Both Elucien and Sarion are strangers finding themselves in a romantic entanglement. Elucien's mating bond snaps as soon as they meet each other, effectively making them strangers who are soulmates. Sarion is a marriage of convenience trope, where before ever speaking to each other, they both agree to marry so that Sathia doesn't have to marry one of the Murder Twins. Both have to essentially get to know the other one under the circumstances of having a romantic bond between them.

Tropes Are Troping.

There are tons of similarities in the actual situations that Elucien and Sarion first meet. They are both in a throne room, standing in front of an evil Fae King who is putting Elain and Sathia in a very high-stakes, traumatizing, nonconsensual situation. Before Elain is turned Fae and before the mating bond snaps, Lucien protests what is happening to her, leading to his bondage. He breaks through the bonds once she is dumped onto the floor, running to her to cover her with his jacket to preserve her modesty and provide her with his protection. As the CC crew bargain for Sathia's freedom, which is going nowhere fast, Tharion offers himself to marry Sathia so that she doesn't have to be shackled to one of the Murder Twins forever. He's effectively, like Lucien, the only one who takes the extra step to protect her.

Meet Cute.

Given the trope that Elucien and Sarion are both in, both couples effectively belong to one another right from the start. Lucien and Elain are often referred to each other as mates and Lucien's internal thoughts claim her as his mate. "Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate". In Tharion's POV, he very quickly labels her as his wife and seems comfortable embracing that label for her. Literally, one of my favorite parts about these tropes is how these romantic and intimate labels now have such a distinct and powerful punch against the background of the tension behind the trope.

My Wife/My Mate

This section really deserves a bullet point list because omg, there are so many parallels in these two characters.

Lucien and Tharion

-Redheads

-Flirty rakes who like to "dally"

-Depicted as having lots of low-commitment sexual encounters before they meet their love interest.

-This part of their characters seems to be a defense mechanism to protect their hearts.

-As soon as they do find their love interest which is an instant high-commitment, they are both singularly focused on them and loyal. Feyre states Lucien no longer enjoys the company of females now that he's a "mated male" and we no longer see Tharion flirting with or hooking up with any other characters.

-They're both self-loathing, broody sad dudes who don't have high opinions of their worth. Lucien: "I am seventh son of the Autumn Court" And a whole lot of nothing. Tharion: Captain Whatever. More like Captain Worthless.

-Both jump around in their allegiances after finding themselves in abusive power struggles. For both characters currently in their respective series, they've jumped from court/queens several times, and essentially find themselves aimless and without homes, relying on the generosity of their friends to hopefully take them in and see their worth.

-Both have had someone they love tragically taken from them that greatly affects their motivations and self-loathing.

TBH there are probably a ton more but this is just what I'm thinking of on the fly.

Elain and Sathia are a shorter list but I think that is only because we know less about them than Lucien and Tharion respectively.

Elain and Sathia

-Both are a more traditional feminine archetype. They're described as beautiful, petite, with many characteristics associated with upholding tradition and fulfilling more stereotypical feminine roles.

-Both are shown to value marriage and seek it out from men with power and influence. Elain with Graysen and Sathia in the HOSAB bonus chapter when she asks about Cormac.

-Both fall madly in love with their first love. Sathia says her separation from Collin is her "Ordeal". Elain is shown to be horribly depressed and desperately runs to find Graysen the first opportunity she gets. As Sathia does once she sees Collin again.

-Both are described as having some "vapid" traits that makes people underestimate them. Elain's interests in gardening and cooking is dismissed. Sathia is described as a fairly stereotypical rich and prissy girl who Ruhn thinks only cares about her manicures and clothes.

-Speaking of that underestimation, we see at different points in their series that characters around them are often surprised when they reveal that they are actually quite intelligent, thoughtful, and brave.

-Both have a moment of "standing up" for their love interest. Elain's famous "His name is Lucien" line and Sathia standing up to the Viper Queen on behalf of Tharion when they meet her in the alley.

-There is of course a bit of a difference between them. Elain is described as being more timid. Ruhn refers to Sathia as "a predator". So they both take a bit different approaches to how they fit into their social groups.

Elucien and Sarion both enter into their romance trope with other love interests either in their pasts or currently that they're involved with. Lucien has Jesminda, who he still loves deeply and mourns her death. Elain has Graysen, who she is engaged to but her turning Fae puts a big wedge in their relationship. Sathia isn't with Collin but clearly still loves him. It's unclear how far their relationship ever got. Tharion is the only one who is emotionally "unattached" but he is very much still in the web of the River Queen's daughter and his 10-year long engagement of duress to her.

It's complicated.

In both cases, Tharion and Lucien are effectively unattached. Maybe it's complicated but they are more free and open to the bond they now have to this stranger. Elain and Sathia are not, however. Both Elain and Sathia show that they still have a deep commitment to their former loves and take similar actions by giving into their most romantic fantasies and running after their first loves to try and save the relationship. We know for Elain, that her seeking out Graysen was the nail in the coffin for them. With Sathia, her situation with Collin is left very open ended. But both are full of angst and both show that Elain and Sathia are very romantic at heart and commit deeply to the men that they love. Both Tharion and Lucien are shown to be very understanding and not possessive of Sathia and Elain. Lucien is not present for Elain seeing Graysen but he gives her space to work through her feelings and it's known he's met Graysen and doesn't think highly of him yet its implied he has left him alone. Tharion does not go after Sathia as soon as she leaves to find Collin and even hopes that should he die she'd be free to marry Collin if he can get away from the Viper Queen.

She is still in love with her ex.

Now we don't know how Elain or Sathia truly feel for Lucien and Tharion. We have neither of their POVs. We do however see Tharion and Lucien's POVs and at least based on actions alone, Lucien is clearly more interested in pursuing the mating bond than Elain is at the moment. When Sathia leaves to find Collin, Tharion spends a lot of time with her letter and its said he can't stop thinking about her as he makes his way to help Bryce with defeating the Asteri.

He falls first.

Lucien and Tharion both go to "rescue" their love interest. Lucien desperately wants to leave Spring to make sure that Elain is okay after her trauma in Hybern. He still doesn't trust the Night Court and has no idea what they're doing to her. He crosses Prythian with Feyre, going into Autumn Court where he knows they could kill him on the spot and where he experienced some of his worst traumas. But he braves it all just so he can see Elain once and make sure she's okay. He's fully aware she has a fiance and may not want anything to do with him. Tharion, after the Asteri are defeated, is seen in his last chapter of HOFAS returning back to the Meat Market where the Viper Queen holds a bounty on his head and essentially owned him as her slave. But he returns so he can make sure that Sathia is not in danger. Similar to Lucien, he's returning to the place of his trauma, risking it all with little expectations that Sathia will "choose him"

Damsels in distress.

Lucien is an emissary and he is well known for his social skills. Elain similarly has been described as being very charming and sociable, able to befriend servants or nobles. It's a common head canon amongst Eluciens that Elain and Lucien, once they start spending time together, will find themselves in a situation where they have to act as emissaries and Elain will impress Lucien with her natural skills. We see this scenario play out with Tharion and Sathia when they try to convince the River Queen to protect some of Crescent City's most vunerable members. Tharion is impressed at how skilled Sathia is when talking to the queen, able to charm and "speak her language" which is that of nobility and politeness.

Emissaries.

Prediction: I have a feeling that not only are both Elucien and Sarion end game, but I think their end game is going to be mirror images of where they started. Elucien started with a mating bond and I think they will fall in love and choose to marry each other. And the reverse, Sarion started with a marriage but I also think they will fall in love and the mating bond will snap between them. It would just be such a cute additional parallel to how SJM has set up their characters and story arcs.

[separatist-apologist]

Dressing For Revenge

I don't start shit but I can tell you how it ends. Don't get sad-get even.

Summary: When the end of the war with Hybern finds Lucien unexpectedly crowned High Lord, he realizes everyone he's ever cared about has been lying to him.

The new High Lord of Day Court vows revenge.

Elain Archeron is determined to see him get it

Evil Elucien AU

Read More: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | AO3

Married.

Mated was the important thing, but marriage was the condition to the entire affair. His little, once human wife demanded he marry her like a human male might. Lucien would have told her no, but Elain was clever. She’d asked while unfastening his pants, and had punctuated her question with the wet glide of her tongue until there was only one answer.

Yes. Anything you want. Yes. 

Though Lucien’s ceremony did serve one purpose, beyond pleasing the female so willing to get on her knees—rumor told him Rhysand was irate. Uninvited, which meant he couldn’t spin his little lies and play his little games, Lucien was free to hold court. To tell his own stories, embellished as they were. 

He knew just enough to be a thorn in Rhys’s side. Just enough to alarm the other four courts, who might wonder why Rhys was hoarding Cauldron-made females and trying (with some success) to marry them to his closest officers. Lucien had been delighted, telling Tarquin and Kallias the harrowing tale of how Elain had managed to escape while she stood wide-eyed and nervous at his side. 

“They’ll drag her back if they ever manage to get their hands on her,” Lucien added, sliding a possessive hand over Elain’s waist. She stepped closer, as if she needed his protection.

“If you see me there, know I did not want it,” she added, his theatrical little mate. Tarquin and Kallias exchanged a look, and Lucien wished he knew what they were thinking. If they believed any of it.

“Rhysand has requested a visit,” Kallias finally told Lucien, learning over the intimate table of food Elain had set up. “To discuss this, I assume.”

“He says you’ve kidnapped his High Lady’s sister,” Tarquin added, looking Elain over with his sharp gaze. Lucien couldn’t help but recline back in his chair so Elain could speak.

“I came of my own free will,” she insisted, unaware of how that simple sentence filled his cock with blood. She was going to come of her own free will later that evening when he put his face back between her legs. The wedding was tomorrow, and Lucien was tempted to say fuck it to his promise not to fuck her and do exactly that. 

He tempered his lust before Tarquin or Kallias were made aware.  Instead, Lucien sent Elain out with Cressida and Viviane to work a little magic—the sort that told the nobility of Prythian that his mate was, if nothing else, wild with lust. Rhysand and Feyre couldn’t be kept out of the other courts forever, and all Lucien truly had going for him were centuries of minding his own business. 

“I only want peace.” It was an endless refrain, the words falling easily from his lips each time someone suggested his marriage was merely a political ploy. Surely it could be both–he could be winding up Rhys and he could want her. 

Though, it was mainly a political ploy. The first move on his chess board. Azriel’s illegal trip into his court—and the result of his ruined shadows—were merely rival courts who didn’t trust each other. Lucien had a right to his mate, especially if she’d come of her own free will. 

Another male from another court trying to take her was a death sentence.

“He should be grateful he kept his life,” Thesan opined over a private luncheon. Lucien was all too happy to soak up the praise, to be considered merciful. As if he weren’t baiting Rhys into a vicious, violent response. 

It was Tamlin who Lucien was most interested in seeing. Spared an invasion by Lucien’s brother taking the throne, Tamlin fell into brutal moods seemingly at a whim. A diplomat in Tarquin’s court had informed Lucien that both Autumn and Summer kept the borderlands under control when Tamlin was tired of ruling and turned to the wild as a beast. 

Eris, it seemed, would eventually march into Spring and drag Tamlin out, depositing him back on the throne with a warning that next time he might not be so generous. Lucien might have laughed—if Eris kept Tamlin alive, it was only because it served his larger interests. Not one of them did anything out of goodness. 

Only greed. He, at least, could admit the sort of creature he was. 

Tamlin looked rough. He met Lucien in the Solarium, the golden sun filtering through the rounded dome crowning him High Lord. Nothing else about Tamlin’s appearance did, though. His once mighty friend had clearly seen better days. Lucien went to him, sandals clipping over the marble, to clap Tamlin on his shoulder. 

“You look well,” Tamlin said with a wan smile. Lucien could not repay the compliment without betraying himself for a liar. 

“I’m glad you made it,” Lucien said instead, leading Tamlin towards the grand hall. Let the other High Lords see that Tamlin had come, too. Everyone but Rhysand, who was too insane to be among polite company. Elain was doing a perfect job of smiling with wide-eyed sweetness as she recounted her hasty escape. 

Her fear she might be locked back up, should she stop being so vigilant. 

“Married, huh?” Tamlin asked, trying—and failing—to inject humor into his tone. “Never thought I’d see the day you settled down.”

Lucien kept the frost from his voice. Tamlin met him on the single worst day of his life. “I feel quite fortunate.”

“I’m sure. Stealing your bride right out from Rhysand’s nose. How I wish I could have helped.”

Their eyes met. Lucien said nothing, though he nodded. He tried to block that whole thing out. He and Tamlin weren’t friends, and they both knew why. He’d wanted to protect Feyre and, in the end, had thought the best way to do so was to follow her out of Spring. 

If he examined his actions too closely, he might fall apart. So Lucien shoved it all down deep, content to revel in his hatred. He certainly felt victorious, walking into that room. He was High Lord, wasn’t he? And his mate, who looked like the sweetest trophy, perched on the throne he'd built just at his side. She smiled when he entered, rising to greet him. The picture of a good, well-bred female. 

“They’ll kill you for this,” Tamlin offered before slipping into the crowd. It wasn’t lost on Lucien that Tamlin was the only one who came without a retinue. No friends, no sentries, nothing. Alone. 

Pity spiked in his chest. For just a splitting moment, Lucien wondered what it was all for. If he wasn’t better off closing his doors to all of them, mating Elain quietly, and just forgetting the rest of them. If he failed, did he risk ending up like Tamlin? 

Elain reached him, drawing some of his attention away from the future. He reached for her face, holding her cheek in the palm of his hand. “You look lovely,” he said, eyes raking over the off-shoulder golden gown she wore. 

“You look unsettled,” she said, her gaze sharpening ever so slightly. 

Lucien let her follow his gaze back to Tamlin, seated at one of the long tables by himself. He spoke to no one, goblet in hand, and no one dared to speak to him. 

“It was good to invite him,” she said, her tone sharper than he’d heard all day. Beneath her doe-eyed innocence was a female smart enough to rival every male in the room. “You should have invited Eris.”

“Fuck Eris,” was his automatic response. 

“What’s the alternative, Lucien? He aligns himself with Rhysand? You don’t have to like him.”

Be smart, was the unspoken request. Lucien was blinded in this way and he knew it. Eris had an arsenal of weapons at his disposal. None so potent as their mother, still housed and under Eris’s protection. 

“You don’t understand this,” Lucien snapped, sliding his hand over her hip to walk her up that dais. She went with him, altering her expression into one of love-sick devotion. He wished it was his normal court and a normal night so he could shove her to her knees and put his cock in the back of her throat. 

“Family is complicated, and giving Rhysand any allies at all would be a mistake. He’s too powerful as it is. Sideline people, Lucien. Put your own feelings aside if you want revenge or admit you intend to hold this fruitless grudge until you die.”

“Cauldron boil me, we’re not even married,” he grumbled, dropping into his throne like a spoiled prince. Elain took her own seat, covering his hand with her own. 

“I’ll entertain him if you can’t. Invite him to the ceremony. Remind him you two share blood…and who put that crown on his head.”Lucien ran a hand through his thick hair. “I should crown you High Lord while I’m at it.”Elain settled primly in her chair, her lips pressed into a satisfied line. She didn’t outwardly agree, but he knew inwardly his words pleased her. 

Lucien marinated in his thoughts for the rest of the day while Elain played hostess. He sent that letter—last minute, so Eris understood he was an afterthought. His mother could join, but the rest of his brothers could not. Eris could bring members of his personal guard so long as they were unexceptional, magically. And, because Lucien never missed an opportunity to be an asshole, required Eris bring Elain a gift given she would now be his sister. 

He didn’t visit Elain that night, though putting her on her knees might have settled the knot in his chest. Lucien wanted to be alone, wanted to stew in his thoughts without her trying to fix things. Or worse, reminding him of all the good reasons why allying with Eris—no matter how awful. As if she’d have ever done the same with Feyre. 

If Lucien was honest with himself, he would have admitted he was nervous for more than just Eris. Some not insignificant part of him expected Rhysand to burst in at any moment, laughing that he’d fallen for it. As Lucien carefully braided pieces of his hair, as he dressed himself, that was all he could think of. 

She wasn’t going to be waiting for him. She’d be gone, she would leave, she’d reject him like she’d been doing for years. Lucien was a mass of nerves when Arina and Ajax came for him, the pair cautiously pleased. 

“I have Tamlin sitting with the High Lord of Winter,” Arina began, eyes sliding to a stack of paper held in her delicate hands. “Viviane could talk to a wall.”

“Summer and Dawn are intermixed,” Ajax added, flanking Lucien’s other side as the pair strode down the hall. 

“Unity,” Arina all but teased, her green eyes filled with questions. Why is all this necessary?

Still, his advisors were smart enough not to ask what he was up to, and smarter still to figure it out without Lucien ever needing to share. 

“And Elain?” he asked, trying to remain utterly unaffected. Casual and aloof—and failing, if the amusement on Arina’s face was any indication.

“Ready when you are,” she said with an easy smile.

“Lord,” Ajax added, his words tight. “Autumn Court…where should we put them?”

The dungeon. The words were on the tip of his tongue as he rounded the corner. What would happen if he challenged his brother, besides? Brothers fought–and Vanserra’s were expected to kill each other, besides.

“Wow,” he said instead, eyes landing on Elain. She was waiting in the open atrium, looking towards the closed doors of the hall nervously. Color flushed over her cheeks when she whipped around to look at him. She wore a dress of white, trimmed in melted gold. Standing in pooling sunlight, she didn’t need the pretty circlet woven through her rich, golden brown curls. Lucien forgot he was standing between his two most trusted friends, rooted in place as he drank her in.

She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. His eyes traveled down the curve of her throat to the dipping vee of her dress. Her exposed collarbone and the pushing swell of her breasts were dusted with a shimmering powder that made it seem as if she glowed. The beaded white gown clung to the soft curves of her body, flaring to the ground gently. 

“Lord?”

“Put them anywhere,” Lucien dismissed. He didn’t care about his fucking brother anymore. He didn’t care about his planning, his plotting—anything but his mate. Standing under that golden dome, pearls in her ears, and a sunstone on her finger. 

“Hi,” she whispered as he came towards her. Lucien was suddenly afraid to touch her. He felt like that male standing before her moments after arriving in Velaris. Uncertain. Confused. 

Fascinated.

“You look…” he didn’t know how to finish that sentence. She waited, chin inclined, for him to finish what he was saying. He saw her defenses raised, her expectation he would not be kind. Was this who he was, then? It was clear she didn’t trust him.

Lucien didn’t want his mothers marriage reflected in his own. He reached for her face, sweeping his thumb over her cheek. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured, forcing the words to soften in his mouth. He’d make the first move, then. She swallowed, her heart a jumping staccato between them. He wanted to kiss her and thought he might wreck the pretty, pink paint gracing her mouth. 

He’d have her later, he reminded himself. 

Lucien dropped his hand, offering it to her instead. “Are you ready?” he asked, thinking this wasn’t quite the way of things. He wasn’t supposed to walk her down—her father was.

He was dead. Who else was left? Instead of being gifted his bride, he’d walk at her side and mark them equals. True equals, he thought. Everything Elain had, she’d earned. Cauldron blessed by the mother herself. Not by High Lords and not by theft, but by virtue. Her very soul examined and found worthy. A Seer in a land that so rarely gifted that magic to begin with—and powerful enough she could shift the tide in wars, both with her prophecy and a blade in her hand. 

Two sentries pulled open the doors, silencing the chattering crowd. It was the first marriage between a Day Court High Lord and a consort in over eight hundred years–and though rival lords were rarely invited, Lucien had turned his own wedding into a political spectacle. 

Five powerful sets of eyes would watch Elain vow before all the gods to love him, honor him, and obey him of her own volition. 

And at the resulting dinner, they would discuss what was to be done when rival lords sent spies across their borders. Lucien wanted written policy and agreement. It was only a matter of time before another member of the inner circle came crawling into Day, and next time, Lucien intended to send their bloodied face back in a box. 

Then, and only then, would he eat whatever Elain had dreamt up, haul her up over his shoulder, and fuck her like he’d been dreaming of. Lucien was considering he could have everything he wanted. His mate. A family of his own choosing, of his own making. His political ambitions, unhindered by a High Lord too emotional to be logical or rational. 

Lucien was practically giddy, stepping into the hall. All eyes on the pair of them. He squeezed her hand, hoping to steady her. It was impossible not to notice that there was no one from Elain’s family there to represent or support her. Lucien hadn’t tried to get Nesta and some small part of him regretted that. There was no way Elain hadn’t realized that she was utterly isolated in Day with him.

Even Arina, smiling brightly at Elain, wasn’t a substitute for a sister. His eyes fell on his brother, seated in the middle of the room just behind Summer. Eris was glaring at him with icy eyes, his fury a living, writhing thing. It clicked for Lucien, staring down his brother. How he could give his wife her sister, how he could keep tabs on Rhysand, could have his mother without having to be too close to his brother.

Eris would understand. Would accept it, even. No one had ever loved Eris without strings. Why should Lucien? 

He refocused his attention on Elain. One thing at a time. To get what he wanted, he needed to be patient, and clever, and most of all, he needed to focus on the most important thing at any given moment. Cementing his mating bond in front of five High Lords was all that mattered. 

Lucien, standing atop a golden dias, in a room over her noble blooded faerie in the realm, turned to Elain with an easy, hopeful smile. None of it was feigned. He didn’t love her—though he hoped to. Lucien took a breath, took her hand.

And he began. 

Lucien didn’t think he’d ever truly recall any part of his wedding with absolute clarity. Elain was too beautiful, his heart too loud, to hear the words that were spoken between them. A tear slipped from her carefully made up eye, to which Elain brushed away quickly with a sheepish smile. He hoped her show of emotion was real. It certainly felt real when she tilted her chin for a kiss, one he accepted greedily.

Married.

But not mated. That was the lynchpin in Lucien’s plan. His wife had planned a spectacular party which would culminate in Elain offering him a piece of wedding cake. It gave Lucien an immense amount of free time to work the room, Elain at his side.

“Is that your mother?” she whispered when they entered the ballroom. His mother was seated at a table close to the throne he and Elain were walking towards. Lucien’s spine prickled at the sight of her. He had so many questions that he was too afraid to have answered. He didn’t look her in the eye, though he could see from the angling of her body that she was desperately trying to get his attention. His brother had his arm over his mothers chair, that same hateful stare burning against Lucien’s back. 

He led Elain up the steps, holding her hand as he went. She sat first, and then Lucien as he was still the Mother chosen High Lord. His mother, who he was still avoiding like a coward, had produced two High Lords. A feat, all things considered. Lucien could not think of one other instance in which such a thing had happened. 

And he was angry about it. 

“How long do we sit here?” Elain asked, trying again when it was clear Lucien was not going to answer about his mother.

“They dance first, and our courtiers present us with gifts,” he explained, leaning over the arm of his throne to brush a finger against her skin. Goosebumps erupted in the wake of his touch, thrilling him. 

“Are you going to talk to Eris?” she whispered. 

“Noticed him staring, did you?” Lucien’s mouth slipped into a tight smile. 

Elain’s attention was diverted when Arina, dressed in shimmering panels of gold, padded to the center of the room in her bare feet. She wasn’t alone—the other dancers had joined, their bodies slick with coil and dusted in gold. Lucien hadn’t seen one of their shows in a while—too often, he had Elain between his legs so everyone could see just how enthusiastic their new Lady was. 

“I didn’t know she danced,” Elain whispered. Loud drums from the back of the room punched out a hypnotic beat, joining the other musicians who made the very air feel like water. Elain wasn’t the only one transfixed—when he glanced at his brother, Eris’s mouth was half open, as if he’d never seen anything like Arina before.

Lucien settled back against his throne, smug as hell. Stuck up Autumn likely hadn’t. Eris likely ruled with the same prudish morals Beron once had. Lucien made a mental note to tell Arina to harass his brother a little, if only to get under Eris’s skin.

It didn’t last long. Eris was back to glaring at Lucien before Arina’s hips ever stopped swaying. He didn’t stop—not when courtiers and other High Lords began making a processional towards them. Jewels and fine fabric and spices were laid at Elain’s feet. All of it earned Lucien’s approval.

His brother brought his mother, making up the rear of the train. He dropped an ornate, gold box at Elain’s feet with little care while his mother very clearly did her best not to cry. 

“You look well,” she managed, her eyes glassy and hopeful. Eris looked as if he might pull the dagger hidden in his knee high books and cut Lucien’s throat.

“A ruby diadem from the trove. Surely you remember the one,” Eris said. Lucien’s lips curled off his teeth, a snarl slipping from him. His own Autumn crown had a twin for his wife—one he’d tried to give to Jesminda, before she died. He hadn’t considered that Eris might lay such a thing and Elain’s feet.

Elain slid her hand over his own, offering both Eris and his mother a sweet smile. She didn’t know.

She didn’t care, more likely. She rose, having settled him just enough to step off the raised platform to loop her arm through his mothers.

“Would you care for a drink?” Elain, the consummate hostess, asked. His mother nodded, offering Lucien one last pleading look. He ignored the guilt that flooded through him, drumming his fingers over the arm of his throne.

“What,” Eris began, not bothering to conceal his words, “the fuck are you doing over here? Play acting High Lord again?”

Lucien fucking hated Eris. “Does this look like play-acting?”

Eris sneered. “You look like a child in father's robes again.”

Lucien rose from his seat, his temper rising in his throat. A rip on the bond in his chest drew his eyes across the room where Elain stood, laughing at something his mother had said. Some silly childhood story no doubt, trying to win over his wife so he might speak with her. Elain was still paying attention. 

“This is a conciliatory gesture,” Lucien said through gritted teeth.

Eris barked out a laugh. “This is a show. Tell me what you want.”

”My wife wanted you here,” Lucien said dismissively, joining the throngs of well-wishers and revelers. 

“And you wanted, what, exactly?” Eris added, those shrewd eyes never leaving his face. “Another ally in your obvious vendetta against Rhysand and Feyre? You stole his Seer, you destroyed Azriel’s shadows…he’s going to hit you back, and hard, Lucien. You’re not the only one who can work a room.”

“He killed twenty younglings in Winter. Destroyed Spring after stealing their soon-to-be Lady, and in the resulting destruction, allowed a foreign army to sweep through Summer. Who do you imagine is particularly charmed by Rhysand and his child bride?”

Eris snorted. “The same people charmed by you and yours. You have the moral high ground for now,” Eris whispered, waiting for Lucien to reveal his hand. 

“I lost my eye while he was fucking that cunt,” Lucien snapped, grabbing Eris by his upper arm. He pushed his brother towards a pillar, lowering his voice. “You think anyone in Prythian likes Rhysand on anything but a technicality? His own territory is unstable, and none of them know it. He can’t keep the Illyrians in line and is still in our business, telling us how to run things.”

“So what’s your plan? Kill another High Lord in broad daylight and hope everyone hates him as much as Beron and you get to live happily ever after in your sandcastle?”

Lucien hated Eris. He waved a hand, dropping his grip on his brother. “Don’t worry about my plans. Enjoy the party. Make sure you tell Elain thank you for her hospitality.”He turned his back, walking towards her.

One.

Two. 

Three.

“Wait,” Eris called. Just like always, Eris wanted something too. Lucien turned, cocking his head. They were still brothers. Eris knew him just as well as Lucien knew Eris. “A trade.”He hadn’t expected that. “What could you possibly want?”

“The dancer,” Eris said, his words strangely breathless.

“Arina? What—don’t tell me. I don’t want to know,” Lucien interrupted, surprised that the thing his brother wanted was a female. “In exchange for what?”

“Whatever ridiculous thing you wanted when you wrote that letter.”

They stared at each other. “Arina bites.”

An amused smile slid over his brother's cold, pale features. “My type.”

“Nesta Archeron. My wife wants to talk with her. And I want someone inside their court. Someone I can trust.”

Eris chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Nesta accepted her bond with Cassian. She won’t leave. She’s more likely to stage an ambush than she is to defect.”

“But you’ll try?”

Eris shrugged. “Your funeral. She’s toothless now. Just another declawed kitten for his court to play with.”

“And your deal with Rhysand?” Lucien prodded. Eris gritted his teeth.

“Abandon your plan. Whatever scheme you’ve cooked up, forget it. Put your female to bed and be grateful to have her.”

Lucien shook his head. “Yes or no, Eris.”

“Make nice with mother. She misses you. She loves you. We’re brothers—of course I’ll fucking help you. But fuck, Lucien…you’ll get yourself and Elain killed if you don’t back down.”

“Fine.”

Eris and Lucien stared each other down for a moment, their fingers twitching as if they ought to shake on it. 

“Arina goes if she wants,” Lucien dismissed, altering the terms before the magic settled. 

“She will.”

Eris turned, sweeping away before Lucien could offer any further questions. His brother would learn the hard way, just like so many other males, that she wasn’t about to run off to another court because a High Lord had taken an interest in her. Lucien had gotten what he wanted, and in return all he had to do was be nice to his mother.

He made his way to the pair, forcing a smile he didn’t quite feel. “Mother,” he said by way of greeting.

That glassy quality returned to her gaze. Please don’t cry. 

“Lucien,” she breathed.

“Feel free to stay as long as you like,” he said, snaking his hand around Elain’s waist. She brightened, mouthing told you as if Lucien couldn’t see the whole thing. Amera Vanserra nodded, tucking a piece of auburn hair behind her ear.

“I would like that.”

Lucien offered one more tense smile and then swept Elain towards the long table. “I’m starving,” he complained.

“Soon,” Elain agreed, lacing her fingers with his. 

Lucien shook his head, suddenly too raw for his liking. His careful walls were cracked and crumbling, and if he continued as he was, everyone would see the fragile beat of his heart just beneath. 

“I can’t wait,” he said, pulling her flush against him. Lucien reached for a chair, pulling them both into it. Those who happened to see chuckled, more curious than anything of the mated pair.

He was well aware everyone wanted to know if the stories were true. Lucien wanted to know, too. 

Elain reached over the table for a small meatball stuck on a toothpick. “I’ve arranged everything just so,” she said, teasing the piece of food just in front of his face. “Don’t spoil my fun.”

“I’ve had enough,” Lucien half growled, half pleaded. Their gazes held, and he knew she could feel his desperation. 

I can’t take another minute of their presence. 

His brother, sniffing after his friend and his mother floating about a palace he never knew she’d even seen, reminded Lucien of everything he’d lost. All the lies, the time wasted, the centuries of wishing, of wondering, of hoping. He couldn’t count the times he had cried into his pillow as a boy. Wondering why his father seemed to hate him more than his brother. Why he was singled out for every small thing, why he received no affection, no praise? 

No love. 

“Spoilsport,” she chided, but she put the food against his tongue all the same. They had an audience, people watching to see what would happen, Kallias knew, but the others were blissfully unaware. Lucien chewed, his eyes never leaving her face. He expected some vicious clanging in his chest, a bell tolling from the heavens above. 

Mine. She’s mine. 

It was his only thought. Lucien blinked, reaching a hand to cup her face. “Elain,” he breathed, as though he were saying it for the first time.

Her smile was genuine, creating dimples in her cheeks. How had he never noticed that before? Freckles dusted a constellation of stars over the bridge of her nose from where she’d been kissed by the sun. Her brown eyes were flecked with green and rimmed in gold.

“Look at you,” he whispered, drinking her in with new appreciation. “My Elain.”

She brushed her fingers over his lips, as if she, too, were seeing him for the very first time. He leaned forward, the tip of his nose brushing her own. There was a stillness to the moment, their breath mingled in the air between them.

And then a hand on his shoulder, jolting him back to reality. “Would you like privacy, my lord?” Ajax asked it with amusement, reminding Lucien he still had an audience. Lucien cleared his throat, looking up at the room. They were being watched by the amused High Lords and their courtiers—and ignored by his own. Day was far too used to the lurid displays he and Elain often put on to find any of this interesting. They danced and feasted, creating a clear disconnect between guests and residents.

“Enjoy yourselves,” Lucien declared, hoisting Elain up into his arms as he stood. She squealed in delight, cheeks flushed as she ran a hand over the bare swaths of his chest. “Stay the evening—stay the night.”

There were murmurings of appreciation and as Lucien stepped out into the hall, he motioned for Ajax to come with him.

“Make sure the High Lords know they’re welcome to return.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Lucien took off, groaning when Elain licked the side of his neck. “It all feels good,” she whispered, breath fanning against his skin. “Tastes good.”

“Don’t stop,” he asked, though the growing erection between his legs was making it practically impossible to walk. He nearly crashed into a pillar when her teeth nipped at the hollow of his neck, and just barely got them into his bedroom before he was ripping himself out of his ceremonial sandals and clothes. 

“It’s worse than they said it would be,” Elain panted, fumbling the buttons on the back of her gown. Lucien strode to tear it apart, too, but she slapped her palm to his bare stomach.

“Let me,” he growled.

“What if my daughter wants it someday?” she panted. He went still at the notion. Children. He didn’t know how to ask the question, to make her admit she wanted that future with him. Why couldn’t his political marriage have all those things? He’d need an heir, wouldn’t he?

He wanted an heir. 

While Lucien dreamt of the litter that might one day run through his halls, Elain managed to get off her dress. Her naked body was hardly anything new and yet the sight of her filled him with brand-new appreciation. Lucien went to her, pushing her against the bed as his mouth found hers. She tasted like spun sugar. He was addicted, her tongue immediately stroking against his own as her nails raked lightly against the back of his neck. He was already grinding himself against her, the head of his cock pressed into her thigh. 

“I need,” he panted into her mouth, “to be in you.”

Elain moaned, arching against his body. Her legs had fallen open, giving him unparalleled access to every inch of her. There was no rush, given they had an eternity together, and somehow Lucien felt as if he didn’t fuck her right then and there, he would die never having been given the chance. 

Lucien slotted himself against her, dazed to find her wet. Elain hadn’t stopped kissing him and he didn’t think she realized until he pushed himself into her. With a gasping breath, Elain broke away to try and look between their bodies.

“This is really happening,” she breathed, digging her nails into his shoulder. 

He hated himself. Halfway into her, Lucien froze. “Do you want me to stop?” He would—it would be hell, given how tightly she was gripping him, and he would. He’d stop, he’d get off her and walk away.

“No,” she said. One word was all it took to fill Lucien with immeasurable relief. He thrust the rest of his cock into her, holding himself for a moment while she wiggled, getting used to the size of him. Lucien was rather content to let himself get used to her—absurdly tight, dripping wet, and mind-numbingly tight. She’d been made for him. 

“My pretty mate,” Lucien whispered, teasing one of her peaked nipples with his fingers as he began his slow, measured thrusting. She arched her neck, eyes rolling into her head. “Is this what you like, Elain?”

She only whimpered. Lucien thrust a little harder, still toying with her nipples to draw more of those gasping moans. He was merely a creature of need—everything he did was to heighten their combined pleasure so he could have her again.

“What about this?” he asked, thrusting faster, letting himself get a little rough. He pinched and she moaned, meeting him thrust for thrust with her pretty, rolling hips. Pleasure skittered through him, building like an out-of-control fire. She was a match for the magic coursing a river through him.

Elain was a song, was bright, burning light that filled any room. She tightened around him, eyes fluttering open to look.

“Tell me how you like it,” he whispered, reaching for her jaw. He thumbed over her lips, delighted when her tongue darted from behind her teeth to tease at his skin. She sucked him into her mouth, teasing and rubbing like she so often did when it was his cock in her throat. Lucien could feel the combined sensations on his sensitive head, driving him half wild. 

Using his other hand, Lucien pressed his thumb to her slick clit, making tight circles over the little nub until Elain was bucking beneath him, just as wild as he felt. They were both out of control, the slap of skin combined with their breathy, pleading moans. He didn’t want it to end, and yet Lucien was desperate to finish. 

He’d wondered for so long what it would be like to have her. Mating bond or not, Lucien was certain he’d still have felt the same. Would have lost himself when he felt that first wave of her cunt pulsate around him, thrusting viciously—chasing the same pleasure she was drowning in. Lucien was loud enough that anyone nearby could hear him come. It was pure ecstasy losing himself in the softness of her, of pumping and pumping until he could feel his own emissions sliding out with each new drag of cock to make a mess of the sheets beneath them.

Lucien pulled her against him, arms tight around her body. 

“Was it what you thought?” she asked, stroking through his hair, lips against his cheek. 

Lucien pressed a messy kiss to her mouth, his need getting the best of him. His hips were already grinding into her again. 

“Ask me again in a week, Elain.”

[goforth-ladymidnight]

For the ask game!!

🤡, 🎶, and 🍦

FOR THE GAME!!

🤡, 🛒, ⛔ and 🏆

I saw that you sent another ask before I could sit down and answer the first one (sorry about that!), so I thought I’d put all of them in one answer. 😁

From this ask game:

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

In “The Third Night of Solstice” [my Secret Santa Elucien fic], Lucien brings Elain to the old manor to spend the evening with the Band of Exiles, when this happens:

“Come on. I’d like for you to meet the Band of—”

“Bastard!” Vassa shouted from the next room.

Lucien and Elain exchanged shocked looks, then he closed his eyes as he heard Jurian yelp. It was going to be one of those evenings, he realized with a grimace.

He made it to the parlor doorway and found Jurian defending himself from a furious Vassa, each armed only with a ruffled throw pillow.

Before Lucien could say anything, Vassa hurled it at Jurian’s head and cried, “You inconsiderate son of a—”

“Vassa,” Jurian warned, then ducked behind his cushion as the other bounced off it and onto the floor. The rug was littered with ruffled pillows.

“Pig!” she shrieked, yanking off her slipper.

Jurian lowered the pillow as he noticed Lucien standing in the doorway to groan, “Finally! Lu, tell her what you—” His brown eyes widened as Elain appeared at Lucien’s elbow.

Vassa turned, blue eyes blazing, then her mouth fell open as she dropped her shoe. “Oh…”

Vassa was so much fun to write, and her banter with Jurian just made me smile.

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Like you, I love to use ambient mixer for my work! My tried and true favorites are “Resting in the Spring Court” for gentle scenes and “Walking on Stars” for mystical scenes (without the strange vinyl noise, though). I like that the channels can be customized either by muting them, making them quieter or louder, or even how often they repeat.

If there’s one song I would have to choose for repeat listenings, though, it would be “After You” by Louise Dowd and Shelley Harland. I grew up on Easy Listening music, and this song just hits the right chord for my yearning, angsty fics.

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

My Brilin Solstice one-shot “A Winter Court Tradition” takes the cake on that one: it’s all about kissing under the mistletoe, and that’s it. Pure fluff. ❤️ 

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

I actually had a conversation with someone about this the other day! I don’t know my work well enough to talk about overall themes yet (it’s hard to be objective), but maybe it’s finding love in unexpected places. I’ll think about that one.

Certain character types do make a reappearance, though. For example, in both ACOFAE and my original WIP novel, I have a set of twins as side characters (my best friends growing up were twins), and there’s often a large family dynamic in the story, whether it’s found family or they’re related by blood.

Nature also plays a big part in the stories I tell, and I enjoy describing the scenery. (I grew up in a rural area with all four seasons and a wide open sky where I could see the stars at night. I miss that.)

I’ve noticed that I always have characters invoking a higher power in my work (growing up in a religious household will have that effect, I suppose), and it wasn’t until later on in ACOFAE that I realized that Feyre was raised to be an atheist, and I don’t know how to write atheists, haha.

I could go on, but I think that’s a good start. 😊

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped? and: 🏆 What’s your most popular fic?

I answered those here, but the short answers are “Yes, but only kind of”, and ACOFAE!

Thanks for the questions! I had fun with these. 😊