#not an elucien fic at all

[gardenfaerie222]

Get in the Water: One-Shot

Pairing: Elain x Graysen (? sorta lol)

Rating: Mature

Summary: Elain kidnaps Graysen from his family home and forces him into the cauldron so he understands how she feels and what happened to her, and so they can be together forever.

Content Warning: violence, loss of a child, angst, PAIN

Note: This work was inspired by the lovely @bookishlyaries on tiktok! She kindly gave me permission to write this and anyone who reads this should watch the tiktok that inspired it! I guarantee it's a million times better haha

tiktok linked here! :)

Elain didn’t think there was such a thing as quiet in this new life. She sat silently on the bed in the room given to Nesta and her in the mortal manor, no effort left in her body to rinse the blood from her face and from the clothing given to her by the pale, white haired woman. Vivianne, she reminded herself, and she wasn’t a woman, she was a female. Just like Elain. Her hands were curled into fists in her lap, and the short nails bit into the skin of her palm as she clenched them. The coppery, metallic taste, still left in her mouth, stung with reminders of earlier in the day. What she had done. She wished she felt something, anything, about it. The only thing left in her heart was a dull ache, there was no room for remorse about who she had killed.

Murdered.

Stabbed in the back, fitting, Elain surmised.

In theory, she understood none of the people involved owed her any loyalty. They only owed their loyalty to Feyre, but didn’t that apply to her by association? The priestess, the man Feyre died for, her red-haired friend. Elain’s mate. They all owed Feyre some inkling of loyalty. At least the priestess was dead, and neither man would ever have what they wanted. She couldn’t bring herself to care. That man, male, she corrected, owed her nothing. No loyalty, no protection, nothing. She owed him nothing. Not forgiveness, or love, or her heart. She would give him nothing. She would never forgive him for what he took from her, what he tried to replace in her heart.

She was to be married, to a man who never even spared her a glance once all the fighting was done. He was supposed to love her, to care for her, to protect her. He promised, as good as made those vows to her. She had given him everything. Her maidenhood, her heart, her chance at any respectable match if he decided to cast her aside and anyone found out what they had done. She had done it for love. They had done it for love. Love that was supposed to overcome everything, love that would never change. It wasn’t supposed to change. She loved him with her whole heart and he promised her he felt the same. She knew he still did.

She twisted the iron band around her finger, enjoying the cool touch of it against her burning skin. It was still had the splattering of red crusted around it, and would have stained her fingers had they not still been covered in the blood of the man who ruined her life. They weren’t far from the fortress that would have once been her home, in a different life. In this life, if the fae thought about anything outside of themselves. She could hear everything. The slither of a snake in the grass, the clang of metal outside, amongst tents housing celebrating mortals and fae, drinking themselves into a stupor. Elain couldn’t recall a time she had ever been drunk. She had drank, of course. A glass of sparkling mortal wine, maybe two if she was feeling bold enough to endure the stares of mothers sniffing down their noses at her.

She had taken it all for granted, then. The happiness, the dancing, the demur looks shot at the most handsome lord attending that night. She was a princess in that world, and this one too, she supposed. The sister of the first High Lady of Prythian. A poor recreation of how her life should have been. A princess, dancing the night away with her knight on her arm.

She could still feel the perfectly respectful glide of his hand against her arm, her waist, their hands barely touching as they danced. He had filled her dance card all night, a not perfectly respectful thing to do, but she didn’t mind. She felt an instant connection to him, fated, to dance together all night. She remembered smiling up at him through lashes, his eyes like pools of glistening water, crinkled at the edges with the smile on his full lips. He was so handsome, her knight. Tall, with dark hair that reminded her of the warmed chocolate drink her father had once brought her from a ship when she was a child. They complimented each other, dancing together. Her own honey colored hair shining under the lights of the ballroom, almost brushing the hand he held at her waist.

They had glided around the room, her satin skirts twirling around her legs. She had been beautiful, and Elain knew he had agreed. She didn’t care that the face she didn’t recognize in the mirror was now somehow more beautiful than she had been. She had, she had been beautiful and Graysen knew it. He instantly started courting her, calling on her, leaving her gifts to showcase his affection. He was going to marry her, and her heart ached at the thought of what happened after. The night they spent, tangled together and underneath the blanket covering them. The love that had poured from her heart as he kissed her, and then kissed the ring on her hand, whispering his vows into her ear like it was something sensual. It had been. Those promises of love, and care, and providing. She knew he had meant them. Meant them in that moment they shared, and forever.

She could still feel the whispered caress of his breath against the shell of her ear as he promised, “I’ll love you forever Elain, no matter what. No matter what happens. You are mine, and I am yours. Mind, body and soul.”

It had felt like a prayer, and she the goddess he was worshipping. Everything had gone wrong after. The fae, and the creatures in the night stealing her from her bed. Somehow, they were different, those men with wings who came with her sister with warnings of war. They had vowed to protect Nesta and her, but she was coming to the conclusion that all fae were liars, unlike the stories said. The opposite of what the stories said, actually.

After days of false promises, they came in the night. Those creatures that ripped her from her bed in nothing but her nightgown, barefooted as she fell unconscious and woke in a small cell that stunk of urine and vomit, Nesta holding her protectively to her side, barring her teeth and snarling at anyone who looked too close at Elain. Already more fae then human, Elain realized, looking back. She could still feel like bite of their claws in her arm as they tugged her up and away from her sister, dragging her into the mockery of a throne room by her hair as she had cried out. There had been so many people in that room. Her sisters, those fae who had vowed to protect them, the beautiful blonde who she would later learn was the priestess who betrayed them. The red-headed male and the male Feyre had died to protect were there too, as well as what was left of the mortal queens, and the fae king. Some laugh, and some cried, as the king ordered she be put into that dark abyss they called the cauldron.

The first thing she remembered was the bite of cold, and the darkness. She felt like she lived in there for an eternity, twisting and turning in the water feeling something slithering against her skin but never turning fast enough to catch a glimpse of it. She could breathe normally there, somehow. Some kind of magic, most likely. It had felt like days before the cool caress against her body gripped her arms, holding her still, as it finally spoke to her.

“What do you desire, Elain Archeron?” it had hissed into her ear.

“I wish for nothing,” She whispered back, keeping her eyes ahead even as her body trembled under it’s grasp.

A mockery of laughter echo’d around her at her answer.

“I don’t believe you,” it had purred, the grip tightening, curling further around her.

“I swear I wish for nothing,” her voice was still terrified, her eyes still fixed on nothing in the murky darkness, “All I want is to go home,”

It seemed to study her for a moment, that essence of the cauldron surrounding her.

“You have something we wish for Elain Archeron, in exchange, we will let you escape with your life,” She startled, once again trying to twist in it’s arms to look at it, to demand what it wanted from her face to face.

“I don’t understand,” She whimpered, the tears starting to race down her cheeks, “I have nothing I can offer you.”

It laughed at her again, distorted and cruel, something she couldn’t see brushing away the tear that dripped to her jaw.

“You do,” it whispered, cold hands gripping her hips, fingers curling around her lower stomach.

They didn’t feel right. The fingers too long, too thin, too sharp to be human. Horror rushed through Elain’s body as the realization hit her, fighting in the grip it held on her, her tears pouring hotter and faster, her legs kicking. She was screaming, she realized, screaming for what it wanted to take from her. Something she didn’t even realize she had.

“No, no, no,” She begged, the word a prayer on her lips even though she had no gods to pray to, “please, no.”

“We will take this from you,” it murmured, a cruel mockery of a lovers whisper, “and in exchange, we will give you a gift. A pretty gift, of equal value."

She didn’t stop fighting, or screaming, or pleading, not as she felt the beginning of the change. She was changing. It hurt. Gods it hurt. She was screaming from the pain now, the pain of something being ripped from her, and the pain of feeling herself be remade. Her body like clay in the hands of the creature that held her, pulling and tugging and reshaping her in it’s image. She screamed for hours, the pain unbearable. She screaming until she was sure she had torn her vocal cords and she could make nothing but a sort of pathetic whining sound. She pleaded for it to just kill her, in that broken whisper she was sure it understood. She never stopped crying, not until the grip on her lessened and she rapidly approached some kind it light above her heard, and it left her with a whisper echoing in her mind as she breached the surface and was washed onto the cold stone, her nightgown sheer and even the leering laughter couldn’t clear the last thing the creature said to her, cruel humor in it’s tone,

“We give you our gift, Elain Archeron, and thank you for ours.”

The days and weeks after that passed in a blur. She had lived a lifetime in the cauldron, had  died in the cauldron, and everything else felt like borrowed time. She wasn’t allowed out of at least one person’s sight. Normally Nesta. Nesta was scared she would try to jump out of one of the airy windows with no glass, and Elain couldn’t entirely fault her for that. She had lost everything. Her fiancé was on the other side of the wall, and what the cauldron had taken from her, what she had lost. She couldn’t even think the word. The mere thought of her brought her to tears.

Then, Feyre had returned, and the humans, gods, the humans. She had felt the wall fall, and she knew who could help them. Who was true of heart. Who would do the right thing. She went to him with her sisters and she had begged him to help them, and deep in her heart to help her, to accept her as she was, glamoured or not, and he had cast her aside. Like she was nothing, like he didn’t love her the way she knew he did. He had whispered his love in her ear like a prayer days before she was taken from him and when she returned, she was nothing better than trash in his eyes. He had even demanded his ring back, the ring she still wore for comfort, twisting around her finger when she was nervous.

She knew he was just scared. Scared of the war, of the fae converging on his home, of her. She could make it better, she knew she could make it better. She could make him see her again. Show him her heart was still the same no matter was skin she wore, what torture she endured. She just needed him to understand. To see her again. To be like her again.

Her fingers curled into the blanket underneath her as she stared blankly at the wall in front of her. That was the issue, wasn’t it? They were different now. He couldn’t understand, he couldn’t be like her. Even if he did, she would stay like this, she thought with disgust, a sneer curling it’s way across her lips, forever. Young and beautiful, and doomed to watch her beloved grow old without her, die without her.

She would be alone for eternity, because she could never make Graysen understand.

***

There was whispering outside her door, too low for ever Elain’s fae hearing to truly pickup. She gently tossed the soft blankets off of her recently cleaned body and changed clothes, glancing quickly at Nesta, sleeping soundly beside her. She must have washed the blood away, Elain surmised. She placed her feet on the ground, near silent, as she inched closer to the door to hear what was being discussed. She pressed a pointed ear to the crack, and waited.

“… Worried about her,” The voice of her sister murmured, and she heard the inhale of breath from her sister’s mate.

“I understand, Feyre darling, truly,” His voice murmured back, and she could imagine him grabbing her sister and pulling her close, by the sounds of their scuffling feet.

She heard the sharp intake of breath her sister took, “She killed someone Rhys, that’s not something someone just gets over,” Her sister breathed back to her mate.

Elain could picture Rhys nodding his head, holding her sister lovingly, all the things Graysen would have done for her, as he replied, “One thing at a time, Miryam and Drakon will take the cauldron tomorrow, and then we can worry about your sisters.”

She listened to their feet shuffle off, obviously trying to be quiet as to not wake anyone. The Cauldron, gone. That looming presence over her life. Always calling to her, it’s song on the wind like a siren. She took the moment to briefly wonder if she would still hear it’s call to her in that hidden city across the sea. That final link to her past life, what was stolen from her life, gone. She couldn’t bear the thought.

All links to Graysen gone, tied up with a neat little bow to keep her family happy. He hadn’t even looked at her, for her, in that final stand. She needed to know he still cared for her, outside the watchful eye of his father and the fae that eyed her carefully, like she was a porcelain doll set on the corner of the table, centimeters away from tumbling off the edge. She listened closer for a moment, trying to hear any more scuffled feet or hushed voices, but all she heard was silence. That’s when she made her choice.

***

Elain paid no mind the branches scraping at her face or arms, the twigs catching in her hair, or the unsteady ground underfoot. A determination had settled in her bones as she made her way to the Nolan Fortress. She hadn’t shared with Feyre she knew a way in, around the guards where no one would ever see her. A way shone to her by a boy in love. A man in love. Her fae footsteps were near silent as she finally made it into the fortress. It was practically a compound, with all the human soldiers and civilians housed within. She didn’t think she could ever forget the steps to get to Graysen’s chambers no matter how much her body had changed or when her human memories began to fade from her mind and her heart. This walk would stay burned in her subconscious forever.

She silently pushed the door open, stepping inside and inhaling the familiar scent of pine and brandy. It was so much stronger to her fae senses, intoxicating as she breathed in deeply. She could see him sleeping, sprawled across his bed, through the open doorway from the sitting room to the bedroom. He looked no older than a boy like this, the worries that plagued his waking thoughts and creased his brow smoothed over in the world he walked in his dreams. Elain hoped she was in it, something he still yearned for, if not in his waking moments, then perhaps in his subconscious.

She carefully moved towards him, keeping an eye on her steps as she stood next to his bed and took him in. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, she mused, sweeping the hair from his brow. He stirred slightly in his sleep, his brow furrowing, and she leaned forward to press her lips to it, to smooth the worry of whatever was plaguing him. She watched his eyes flutter open, and she took the moment to enjoy his sleep muddled gaze on her face as he took in who, exactly, had kissed his brow before he shot straight up in his bed, moving as far from her as he possibly could.

“Gray,” Elain murmured, careful to keep her voice quiet but loud enough for him to hear, worry coursing through her veins as she just looked at him, “it’s just me, it’s okay.”

He looked bewildered, taking her in, still in her nightgown, barefooted and hair down, loose leaves caught in the long tresses.

“You need to get out,” he whispered harshly, still leaning as far as he could from her.

“Gray, I love you,” She pleaded, feeling the tears bite at her eyes as she held a slim hand to her breast, “Gray, please.”

“You disgust me,” he snarled, looking more fae than she did in that moment. Elain felt something in her break as she recoiled as if he had hit her. She wished he had hit her. The undiluted hatred for her on his face made her chest burn. She felt the salty burn in her eyes as she just started at him.

“I haven’t changed,” She whispered, begging the man in front of her to see her, “I’m still the woman you fell in love with.”

He laughed, and it tasted bitter in the air, polluting the room they occupied, “You’re not a woman Elain, you’re not even human.”

She heard it then, that song on the wind, calling to her, letting her know it was there for her, it wanted to care for her, help her. She felt it in her bones, if she called to it, it would answer. She inched closer to Graysen, and as he moved to push her away, she gripped his arm and they disappeared from the stone fortress.

Once Elain’s vision cleared, she took in room they were standing in. All of it was wooden, and the creaking and swaying gave away what they were on, a boat. One of Miryam and Drakon’s, if she had to guess from what Feyre had whispered to her mate earlier. She noticed it then, that purr that filled the small, dark, and damp room they were standing. That purr the cauldron released in her presence. It remembered her, remembered the gift she had given it, Elain realized with nauseating clarity. She turned, quiet and trancelike, to the man she had brought here who has huddled in a corner as far away from her as he could get. She tilted her head, taking him in.

“This is what made me, Gray,” Her voice was no higher than a whisper, but it filled the whole room, “this is what I was forced into, turned against my will, and I disgust you?”

Something seemed to stutter from his lips, but Elain cocked her head to the side, letting the ache in her heart be replaced with resentment and anger, his snarled words a brand on the muscle.

“I would have given anything for you Graysen, I gave you everything,” there was a calm to her voice, a resignation even with her eyes lined with silver, “you vowed to protect me, and where were you when I was stolen from my bed?”

“Elain, I-“ He started but she snarled, stopping him.

“Don’t talk over me,” His eyes were glued to her face, distinctly avoid what was so obviously taking up most of the space in the room, “You made me vows, Graysen, and you never upheld them. You turned your back on me, you left me to ROT!” She was screaming now, she didn’t know when she started to raise her voice, but by the end he was shaking, that self-righteous disgust in his eyes replaced by fear.

“I love you, Gray,” She pleaded, reaching a hand for his face, but the sting of him still turning away from her pulled her heart further in two, “and I know how we can be together forever.”  

“Elain no,” He moved, trying his hardest to back further against the wall, “Elain, please, don’t do this-“

She cut him off with a shake of her head, nodding towards the cauldron bubbling in the center of the room, like it expected it’s new gift any moment.

“Get in the water,” Her voice was calm, but the tilt of her head and the silver rimming her eyes betrayed her desperation.

He shook his head at her, not even standing, and she repeated herself, “get in the water,” She watched as she started to shake his head again, and she held up her hand to stop him, “or I’ll release this on the humans and you can tell your family goodbye.”

She could smell his fear, his stumbling steps as he pushed himself to stand, but made no further movement, “get in the water,” she ordered, a bead of silver leaking from her eye. She didn’t want him to be afraid, she wanted him to understand. He’d never understand unless he’d been through what she had.

“Wait,” He tried to plead with her, but she shook her head, more tears leaking from her eyes as she took a deep breath and looked up before meeting his eyes again.

“Get in the water,” She ordered again, nodding her head towards the cauldron which just seemed to bubble more in anticipation.

He stepped closer to her, begging as he said, “Stop this, please,” but she stepped further away, shaking her head at him.

She felt the pain blooming in her head, her tears running fast down her checks, “I would drown for you! I did drown for you!” her voice broke on that memory, that pain she refused to speak about, “Your wife and your son drowned and you won’t do the same for us?” She didn’t even know if he could understand the words pushing through her sobs as she took him in, as her heart broke, “We DIED!” She cried, the rage bubbling in her gut exploding.

“No!” Graysen’s voice broke, stepping closer to grip her arms.

“Get in the water!” Her voice was still raised, her soul still pouring out through the tears flowing furiously from her eyes.

“A Son?” He wept, stepping close enough to grasp her upper arms, and placing his back to the cauldron.

She pressed against his shoulders, forcing him against the lip of the cauldron, “GET IN THE WATER!” she screamed, pain and heartbreak written across her face. The life she would have had with her child lost in the same depths she lost her humanity in. Then, she pushed, her fae strength overpowering him as he lost his balance and tumbled backwards into the inky, bubbling depths.

She didn’t know how long to leave him in it, how long she had been in the cauldron. She couldn’t take it much longer, the ache of being alone in the room with this thing, no one to comfort her or to care for her, and after a few minutes she pushed the lip to dump it over, and in a torrent of waves crashing against the walls of the small room, Graysen fell out with it. She breathed a sigh of relief, rushing to his side. She gripped him in her arms, smiling as she called him name, but he was cold, and his eyes didn’t flutter open as she shook his shoulder. She shook him again, harder, and then again, calling his name over and over with a more frantic need each time. He never responded, and he stayed cold.

That was when Elain let loose a gut wrenching, heart piercing scream.

Note: Sorry if it starts getting a bit loopy towards the end, I wrote this all in one sitting and finished at 1 in the morning haha. I hope whoever reads this thoroughly enjoyed my take! Also I couldn't for the life of my figure out if the cauldron fell over on it's own or if it was pushed over and I didn't want to go grab my ACOMAF book so sorry for inconstancies if there is any! Also can't remember if Ianthe is in the throne room when the sisters get turned so if that's wrong too I'm sorry!

Thank you so much for reading!!

[crazy-ache]

The Fox Hunt

Lucien Week: Day 2 - Fox | @lucienweekofficial

Summary: Elain Archeron is invited to Lord Graysen's annual Fox Hunt. She gladly attends in hopes she'll secure a marriage proposal, but fate has other plans when she finds a clever fox in the woods. If she's not careful, his many bargains may just ruin her.

AU Elucien | Oneshot | 11k | Rated E

Read on Ao3

Dear Miss Archeron, Your company is requested at the Nolan Fox Hunt on the 4th of November for a week of festivities and exceptional company. Dinner, dancing, and games will be hosted at our countryside manor. The party will also signify what is surely to be the most prosperous fox hunt in the history of our family’s great name.  I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits. I sincerely hope you’ll be able to join us. Your presence may very well be the good luck charm our hunting party requires for a successful bounty.  Regards, Lord Graysen Nolan 

Divider by @strangergraphics

[yaralulu]

I do think it’s a little insane to host an event week and then limit what ships people can post about.

[lucienarcheron]

This Time, I'm Ready [ Elucien ]

Inspired by Long Story Short by TS. I was listening to it randomly and a scene of Elain started playing out in my head. Recommend listening to it while reading :)

Shout out to @ruhnnlidias for always being my beta reader ♥️

Rating: SFW Genre: Little angst/fluff

Tagging: @helion-ism | @zenkindoflove | @crazy-ache | @danaanruhn | @eudaimonia83 | @vanserrass | @elizascarlets | @climb-the-mountian

As she stood in the woods and took in her surroundings, Elain realized she had made a tragic mistake leaving the Spring Court alone.

Darkness was setting and she had no idea where she was or how she’d even be found. 

All she knew was that she had needed out of the Night Court. She had needed to get away. Even at the risk of her own safety. 

Because she was sick of it. Sick of doing nothing. Sick of being nothing.

Sick of the coddling. Coddling she had played a huge part in allowing. 

Because comfort had always been more important than worrying. Comfort had been more important than facing everything that had been taken from her. But at what cost? 

At what cost?

Elain whirled around at the sounds of twigs snapping behind her and that familiar sense of self-loathing she had developed in the last two years threatened to explode in her chest. 

She was an idiot. An absolute imbecile for thinking she could do this on her own.

But it was too late to change courses now.

Elain’s bottom lip trembled as her eyes darted around her. The fae eyesight she’d resented for so long didn’t fail her now as she took in the details of the tall trees. Her vision — that stupid vision was what had spurred her to make this move. A vision that promised the sun and flowers blooming, coming from a manor she had once planned to call home before it was ripped away from her and her dreams became shrouded in darkness.

And Elain had been desperate for the sun for two years. 

So she had fortified her mind, blocked it the way she knew how so they wouldn’t sense her lie, and had convinced Rhys that she needed to go to the Spring Court. She had nearly begged, demanding they respect her vision and though Feyre had been hesitant, her sister knew she couldn't stop her. 

And Mor had winnowed her in, waiting patiently with her as she explored, as they avoided the beast that still roamed while she tried to piece things together. Her vision was important, they had to inspect what it meant…even if she hadn’t told them what her vision had been about.

Or rather, who.

But the person she had been looking for hadn’t been there as she had predicted. Mor had only given her a sympathetic look that had Elain clenching her jaw and said, “We’ll wait until morning to see if anything else can be found.” 

Elain didn’t want to wait until morning and Mor hadn’t noticed the satchel she had hidden beneath her cloak. Though she wasn’t too surprised. No one really noticed anything about her. People only saw what they wanted to see when it came to her. 

And maybe Elain should feel guilty about the panic she would likely cause Mor, even with the note she left behind, but she knew she needed to find him alone. Elain needed to make sure he was alright and for once, didn’t want an audience.

Because telling them what she saw meant they’d get involved. And for once, Elain needed them all to mind their business. 

Her hand tightened around the hilt of the dagger she’d stolen from the ridiculous amount stashed in her sister’s home and Elain hated the feeling of it, hated having to hold it, and hated the idea of having to potentially use it. 

Stabbing one person had been enough for her in this lifetime.

Turning her body, she tried to gauge where exactly she was. She had been careful to ask careless questions, to pretend to stare at the map of the location with as much boredom as she could muster all those times they'd bothered to include her in things. Which wasn’t often, but Elain had tried.

And now, she was trying to find… Lucien. 

A shudder went through her body at the thought of his name. The mate she had been ignoring.

The sun she was seeking, that she had blatantly pretended wasn’t there. Because he could be hurt and the thought of not hearing his heartbeat made her sick. 

She hadn’t been ready before. 

This time, she was.

Ready to run certainly, at the sound of another twig snapping. If only there weren’t predators that were ecstatic at the opportunity to chase their prey — and Elain had forgotten just how many predators were out there. How easy prey she was at the moment. 

Alone. Vulnerable. Breathing so loudly she was positive they could hear her back in Velaris. 

Elain took a deep, shaky breath and exhaled it quietly. Licking her lips, she did the one thing she hadn’t expected herself to do. She called out to her mate.

Lucien?

She called out silently, licking her lips as she tested the waters of the mating bond she’d been shackled with. A mating bond that, try as she might, was never as dormant as she let the others believe. She heard his heartbeat all the time. Felt emotions flicker from him. Saw hazy memories. 

Elain bit her lip, and slowly as she moved forward, the panic began tingling through her body. Why would he be listening? It wasn’t like she’d called out to him before. It wasn’t like she had ever been particularly kind to him. 

Elain, who was kind to everyone. She was nice. Took out all her rage at the one person who didn’t really deserve it. But gods, being nice was exhausting when she hated everything about herself. He sensed how she felt. He saw too much. Just as she saw and felt too much of him. 

In that stupid vision, she saw him coming for her. And he was whole and healthy. She had felt relieved at the sight of him. 

She only left to find that relief. 

But all she was finding was panic.

“Lucien?” she whispered and then shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. She was so stupid. How would he even hear her out here? Elain had no idea where she was or if she was on the right path.

All she had ever been useful for was being beautiful and nice. Maybe her mother had been right all along; she didn’t need to know how to use her brain when she had that face. Thinking she’d be good enough to try and venture out on her own had been so foolish of her.

No wonder no one included her in anything. She wasn’t smart. She wasn’t brave. She wasn’t useful. Elain was just there, a mistake, a sad sight no one even saw or paid attention to. 

Her hand flew to her mouth to hold in the sob threatening to escape. She had been so stupid to come out here. 

Another branch cracked and she whirled again at the sound, scanning the area around her. She couldn’t have ventured too far from the Spring Court. She had to still be close, right? 

But as she took a step, Elain felt a chill run down her spine that had her freezing in place.

She swallowed and then whispered into the trees, “Lucien?”

Elain was afraid to close her eyes to seek him out, to travel without moving as she had done once before. She bit her trembling lip and looked for that thread that he had tested out with her so long ago. She looked for that thread around her ribs and tugged. 

He had to find her. 

He had to be listening. Or at least she hoped. 

Her face fell as the feeling of unease flooded her senses. Why would he be listening? He certainly wasn’t obligated to give her any of his time. Just like she hadn’t been obligated to give him anything.

Except for a conversation. Maybe they could’ve been friends. Maybe more. Maybe less. 

Taking a shaky breath, Elain shook her head. She needed to focus. She needed to find him. Closing her eyes and letting her senses take over, letting that power she kept to herself surface as she looked for him. She traveled while standing, searching, rooting for him. She looked and tugged at that bond, she searched with a desperation she’d never, in all her years felt.

He needed to find her. He needed to be okay. 

And she needed to get out of this quickly darkening forest. 

There.

She saw him, seated at a desk alongside the Mad General she had only met once long ago, and felt herself tremble at the sight of him. She watched him suddenly straighten as if sensing her.

“Lucien.” she whispered and Elain wasn’t sure if she was saying it in her mind or out in the open air but he seemed to hear her. 

For Lucien shot out of his seat and Elain watched his eyes widen, scanning the room. “Elain?” 

“I’m in the forest outside of the Spring Court. I came looking for you but you weren’t there. I’m lost and I want you to find me.” she blurted quickly, fighting back a sob. “Please find me.”

“Elain —” was all she heard from him, his voice echoing the panic that was close to seizing her and before she could say anything else, she was ripped out of her connection.

Elain stumbled forward and whirled around quickly to find a creature of nightmares snarling a few feet away from her. 

The creature stood alone, covered in dark scales with powerful arms that ended in claws she knew would slice anyone into ribbons.

Elain could only stand in horror, staring at the creature that gave her a bone-chilling smile. 

She hadn’t seen this in her vision. 

“Pretty, pretty pet.” it rasped, its claws clicking together as it stalked towards her. “You smell so divine. I’m going to eat you right up.”

“N-no, thank you,” she whispered and the creature blinked at her and then chuckled in a way that made the hair on her arms raise.

“Ah, well. That’s not what I want to hear.”

And the air between them stilled. The predator and prey as Elain stared down the creature. She had come seeking her mate and instead, found herself alone and vulnerable, about to be eaten alive.

Is this what she would amount to? She had stabbed the King of Hybern once long ago. She could not die here, without facing her demons. She had seen what her life could look like and Elain had finally decided to do something about it. Her grip tightened on her blade and she swallowed hard as the creature tilted its head mockingly at her. 

Elain let herself take a deep calming breath then without warning, broke out into a run. Birds fluttered from the trees above her as she ran back, not away to – from – from the Spring Court? She wasn’t sure and the panic she had been trying to suppress bubbled back up to the surface as the sound of the creature stalking her followed.

“Find me. Find me. Find me.” she chanted desperately, a sob slipping from her lips as she rounded a corner, following a light that had to be the earlier path she had followed. The light had to lead back to safety.

But as she ran, her cloak caught on a branch and with a yelp, she fell. Quickly rolling over, she swallowed a scream as the creature hovered over her, closer than she had expected and nearly gagged at its foul breath. Grabbing her by the ankle, it dragged Elain closer and she could only stare in horror, frozen in place.

“I’m going to pick you apart piece by pretty piece.” it hissed.

With a desperate scream, she finally kicked it with her free leg and scrambled away but it grabbed her again and Elain fell once more, the dagger slipping from her hand.

“Let - go - of - me!” she shriek-sobbed, her hand desperately seeking the hilt of that dagger.

“Pretty pet has some claws.” The creature rasped once more as it yanked Elain forward, leaning over her and Elain tried not to gag again at its foul breath, her hand still seeking the dagger. “Lost little lamb with no one here to save her. Left to be gobbled up.” 

Her hand faltered for a breath. 

No one here to save her.

Would she always be this way? Always waiting to be saved? Always the victim? Never knowing how to defend herself? 

She had no desire to be a warrior but Elain was sick of being the prey. 

Anger she hadn’t felt in a long while flared in her chest as her fingers finally wrapped around the hilt of the dagger and with a cry, she forced himself forward and shoved the dagger into the creature’s throat and held. She let out a scream of rage, fighting the urge to vomit when it’s black blood sprayed across her face. But Elain held and held tight, even as her hands shook until the gurgling sounds stopped and the creature slumped over her.

Elain let herself lay there, breathing heavily as her body started to shake. She was okay. She was fine. She had been attacked by a horrible creature and had survived. She was alive. 

She would be —

The sound of running had the breath choked out of her. She couldn’t do this again — she couldn’t take another one. 

But Elain couldn’t move. Her body wouldn’t budge and as tears started to spill, she bit back another sob, trying with all her might to move the dead weight off her. Never mind, its blood was on her hands and dress and face – never mind that she was likely to be crushed beneath its weight if she didn’t move.

Panic seized her fully as she tried to scramble up, the footsteps coming closer. She could pretend to be dead. She could —

A violent snarl echoed through the forest as the dead creature was ripped off her and Elain nearly shrieked once more until she saw who stood above her.

“Elain.”

Elain’s eyes widened as Lucien fell to his knees next to her, breathing as hard as she was. He started at her and the sheer amount of relief that washed over her made her lips start to tremble. 

“Lucien.”

She watched as a slight shudder went through him at the sound of his name from her lips and her body trembled as she stared and stared and stared. He had come.

“Elain. Thank fuck, you’re – you’re alright,” he asked and his hands hovered over her for a moment, as if forgetting that they hadn’t touched casually before – as if remembering then, it would be the first time in over two years. She watched as he swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling before slowly, Lucien held out a hand to help her sit up and Elain dropped her gaze to his open palm. “Are you hurt? Can you sit up?”

She blinked, hoping the tremors coursing through her body would stop as she stared back up at him. 

“You — you came.” was all she could think to say, staring at him as she slid her shaky hands in his and slowly sat up, her eyes never leaving him, devouring the sight of him. 

“Of course, I came,” he said quietly. “You – you called.”

Tears welled up in her eyes at the words but she blinked them back and swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to say. He had come. He had listened.

“You found me,” she whispered, squeezing his hands and Lucien’s gaze softened. 

He swallowed before carefully answering, “As long as you want me to find you...the bond will remain a thread between us.” he said quietly and squeezed her hands in return. “I’ll always find you.”

Her raging heart seemed to beat faster and Elain finally took a moment to run her gaze over his body. He was still in the tunic and trousers she had seen him in except now a sword was strapped to his back – a sword he hadn’t even bothered to use when he pulled the creature off her.

Her mate had used his bare hands to save her. And he was safe and whole, not a scratch to be found on him. 

Elain met his gaze, finding him patiently watching her, his brows furrowed in concern, and suddenly remembered how she was covered in filth and flushed deeply, pulling her hands back to her lap.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he glanced down at his now empty palms and let them fall to his sides. “You want to tell me how you got here?”

“I – I had a vision.”

“Ah.”

“It was about you,” she whispered and his expression turned curious. “Something bad happened to you.”

Lucien seemed to be fighting to keep his expression carefully clear. “And that…worried you?”

Elain’s flush deepened and she swallowed before whispering, “Yes.”

The air between them seemed to go taut but Elain refused to break his gaze as a slight color bloomed on Lucien’s face.

This energy between them wasn’t like what Feyre and Rhys had. Or even what Nesta and Cassian had. This…this felt different. 

The bond between them seemed to hold its breath until Lucien cleared his throat and finally said, so softly, in the way he always seemed to speak to her, “I’m sorry to have caused you all this trouble.” 

Elain blinked and couldn’t help the huff of a small laugh that slipped from her lips, fisting her hands in her lap. “If anything, I’m the one to apologize for causing you trouble,” she said and bit her lip. “I dragged you all the way out here.”

Lucien chuckled and Elain felt it skate across her filthy skin. “You did give me quite the heart attack,” he said and the corner of his mouth curled up at her flush. “I thought I was hallucinating for a minute.” 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and couldn’t look away from him, trying to blink back the embarrassed tears welling in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to – I just – “

Lucien shook his head then gently and so carefully, reached for her hand. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said and offered her a small smile. “I’m thankful you did. I’m glad you did.” 

And Elain felt her heart swell. This man – male who owed her nothing was glad she had called on him in her time of trouble.

“Even after all this time? We’ve barely spoken.”

“I know.” he only said and Elain felt her bottom lip tremble as she squeezed his hand in hers.

“Why?”

And Lucien couldn’t seem to help the tilt of his head as he gave her a look that was too knowing. “Because you never fully closed that door between us,” he said and Elain swallowed. “I know you’re well aware of how a mating bond works. You could reject it – reject me and no one would bat an eyelash.” He glanced at their hands and turned her palm over, his thumb daring to rub soothingly. “With the nature of the mating bond, a rejection would’ve been hard for me but I would’ve made peace with whatever decision was made.” Lucien met her gaze again. “I am not a male who forces himself to be where he is not wanted, especially with females. But…you kept the door open.”

“I’m not – I wasn’t —” Elain began then forced herself to swallow hard again. “I wasn’t ready.”

“I know,” he said again and gave her a small, slightly sad smile and Elain couldn’t stop herself from tightening the grip of her hand in his again. 

She met his gaze and knew he could feel every jumbled emotion she felt, every complicated thought that flickered across her face. But he waited. Patiently. Kindly.  And it was like he sensed exactly how hard it was for her to say more, to express her desires. 

The corner of his mouth curled up. “I will say…it has been very bold of you to assume I would be obsessed with you,” he added and Elain flushed. “If anything, this situation goes to show you’re the one who can’t stop thinking about me. Getting all worried and running around in the woods alone.” He ended the statement with a tsk and Elain blinked.

Before she could stop herself, a snort slipped from her at his statement and the snort turned into a raspy laugh and before Elain could stop herself, she was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. 

She was sitting on the ground of an unknown forest, still covered in the blood of a creature she had killed and Elain couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed this hard. 

And he sat with her as she laughed, watching her with amusement until the last giggle left her mouth, and Lucien couldn’t help but answer with a chuckle of his own. 

She had found the sun. And it was smiling right back at her. 

When she finally let out a sigh, marking the end of her slight loss of sanity a moment ago, Elain felt a sense of calm wash over her as he watched her and it took a few heartbeats of silence before Lucien broke the quiet. 

“I take it you’re ready to move now?” he asked and Elain nodded as he looked around the woods. “How did you even manage to get here?”

He stood slowly and as Lucien pulled her up, Elain didn’t let go, staring up at him as she stood flush against his chest. She’d worry about how dirty she was later. “I sneaked away.” 

Lucien’s brows lifted and the color on Elain’s cheeks deepened at his smirk. “Sneaked away, did you?”

“Oh yes,” she confirmed and Elain wondered if she’d ever realized how delicious he smelled. “Mor winnowed me in and I - um, waited until she was distracted and sneaked away.” Elain licked her lips. “But then I um, got lost.” 

“Poor Elain, getting lost in the woods all alone,” he said in a tone with a teasing edge to it and Elain found her heart beating faster, forcing herself not to think about the tenor of his voice when he said her name, flushing lightly again. 

But then color flushed on his cheeks and the silence between them seemed to soften; Elain couldn’t quite read the expression on his face but he seemed to struggle to say his next words. 

“All this to find…me.” he said so very quietly and Elain seemed to hear the question without him asking it – that of all people, she had ventured out into the unknown for him? As if in disbelief that he would be worth the effort.

Then again, she hadn’t helped much in her avoidance of him. 

“Y-yes.”

Once more, that thread at her ribcage went taut as they shared a glance and Elain wondered what it would be like if she just kissed him. Judging by the way his eyes watched her, she wouldn’t be too surprised if he could see it written all over her face, especially when he licked his lips.

“At least I’m not the only person you tried to give a heart attack to today,” he said with that teasing tone again and Elain’s lips twitched. 

“Oh, Mor is definitely going to kill me.” she joked and her heart stuttered when his grip tightened on her slightly, watching him blink back a look of rage at the idea that someone might think to hurt her. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I found you first then,” he said casually and cleared his throat. “Lest you get into any more trouble.” 

“I think I’ve had enough trouble for one day,” Elain said and her eyes finally snagged on the creature, lying in a heap across the grounds. Her hands unintentionally tightened on Lucien as she eyed the dagger still stuck in the creature’s throat and once again, she couldn’t believe she had done it. 

Lucien’s gaze followed hers and she felt his own hand tighten on her before he went back to scanning her face. “It seems a stab in the neck is to become your signature move.” he said lightly and Elain’s face heated. 

“Twice is not enough to make it a signature move.”

“For someone who doesn’t fight often, twice is more than enough to become a signature move,” he said with a snort. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Considering you saved me today, I think you’re safe for now,” she said softly and Lucien seemed unable to help his chuckle. 

“I hardly did any saving, my lady,” he said with a small smile, his tone as soft as hers. “You did that all on your own.” 

And as Elain flushed deeply, she realized how long they’d been standing there, chest to chest just holding each other. The last time she had been held by him was that wretched day in Hybern and despite all the time and distance that had been between them, Elain seemed to feel nothing but ease to be held by him.

They stood for a few more heartbeats of silence, content to be just like this and Elain wondered if this was what the mating bond was always supposed to feel like. If she had been denying herself of this feeling she had always been craving.

She could hear the steady beat of his heart and while she was used to it being the lullaby that usually put her to sleep, Elain knew that wouldn’t be enough anymore. 

“Let’s get you out of here and get cleaned up.” Lucien finally said gently and Elain nodded, knowing she should pull away but found herself hesitating to do so. He seemed to feel the same way as his hand casually tightened. “We wouldn’t want anyone to worry about you.” 

At this moment, Elain didn’t really care who worried about her. Goodness knows how long had passed before they noticed she’d gone missing anyway. 

But he noticed her. He seemed to always notice her. 

So she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Will you…stay with me?” 

Lucien tried to mask the hope that flashed across his face by clearing his throat but Elain saw it – felt it and knew she asked the right question. “If that’s what you’d like me to do,” he said.

“It is,” she replied, her voice more sure than she’d ever been. “I would like that very much.”

His answering smile had warmth spread through her chest. “Then I am happy to oblige,” he said. “I am at your service, my lady.” 

[acourtofthought]

Elain: "How do you think I feel knowing that you wish I were her? That I'll never compare to Jesminda?"

Lucien: "THERE IS NO COMPARISON!.....and it has been tearing me apart. I have hated myself every single day of these last few months knowing that it's because she loved me that she lost her life. Knowing that if she were here, YOU would still be the one I chose and because of that, her death was in vain.

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXII.V (Eris Vanserra POV)

Summary: Eris Vanserra spends most of his evenings attending to important business, although he does occasionally believe he deserves a break.

Note: I had to include a small side story within this larger fic, and Eris is one of my favourites!!! This is a short Eris x OC (Cora) one-shot! Next update will be back to regular elucien chapters, so I hope you guys enjoy!!! SMALL WARNING, this will be a little spicy ;) A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :)

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Eris tilted his head, wolf like, as his ears caught the gentle sound of keys going into the lock of the room’s door. He frowned, not having heard any footsteps, but even in the dim lighting, he knew it was simply Cora returning to her chambers for the evening. 

Eris sat up from where he had been sprawled across her small bed, leaning his elbow on her pillows, setting down the sketchbook he had idly been flipping through until the Night Court female had returned. 

She was humming a musical tune softly to herself and Eris could not help but find it endearing, especially as she fumbled to strike a match, her eyes not having adjusted to the dark. 

“I forget,” Eris began, smiling involuntarily at her yelp of surprise, “that you can’t light the torches.” He willed the smallest bit of his own magic to do so, shadows falling across the room, highlighting the sharp planes of Cora’s lovely face as she scowled at him. 

Her glare could level mountains, Eris thought, nodding his chin at her in greeting. She crossed her arms, raised a brow in question. “Can’t go an entire day without me?” Her accent was thick with the rhythms of the Hewn City, the vowels short and the consonants striking. 

I can’t. 

Eris would have rather cut out his own tongue than admit such a thing to the wicked creature standing before him. He lifted a shoulder, “I usually get what I want.” 

“You’re spoiled,” she snapped, her ever present bite to the words were without an ounce of patience, although she did not ask him to leave and Eris fought to maintain the uncaring expression on his features. 

“You were with Elain.” He knew that his brother’s mate was worried about the quickly approaching equinox, and while Eris had ensured she remained safe, he was hardly going to concern himself with the disastrous predicament she had gotten herself into when she had told his father that she and Lucien were to be married. 

Eris had been confident that Cora’s response would have been a resounding yes, but she shook her head at him. “I was with your mother,” she corrected. “I was helping her with the floral arrangements for the wedding.” 

Eris could not help but frown. “And she needed you for that?” He would have preferred the Lady of Autumn to stay away from Cora. For selfish reasons, since his mother could be meddlesome, and because he did not entirely trust Elain’s friend. 

Cora locked the door behind her, not looking at him as she placed the keys onto the mantle of the fireplace. “I think she must be lonely.” There was an edge of understanding in the tone she used that suggested perhaps she was familiar with the feeling. 

Probably, but Eris would never admit that the loneliness could be a noose for everyone within his family, its hold tightening around the necks of the Autumn Court as time passed and there was no shift in power. 

Without Lethe and Kai — without Callum — Eris might have been lonely, too. His frown deepened and he tried to shake the thought from his mind, he and his mother were not on the best of terms, not since Lucien had been born, but his chest ached when he considered the isolated life the High Lord’s wife led. 

Eris was not going to spend the rest of his evening talking about his mother to a female he barely knew, so he began to idly stroke the edge of the sketchbook. He flipped between the pages, the paper rough. He hummed in response, to let Cora decide if he was agreeing with her observation or not, and tossed her sketchbook onto the nightstand. He focused on the way she began to take the braid out of her hair, followed the column of her neck with his eyes, the flames of the fireplace making her skin seem smooth as stone. 

“Your drawings are nice,” Eris offered into the silence. Cora had sketched the forest, the library, his hounds — even his bedroom — near perfectly. “You would have made a better artist than a lady’s maid.” She snorted in response, scrunching her nose at his words. “Have you considered switching professions?” He meant it sincerely. From what he had seen, she was quite dreadful at her job, to the point where Eris truly believed she was Elain Archeron’s personal guard. 

Cora was certainly blood thirsty enough for it, a fact Eris quite liked about her. She had her secrets, he was sure, everyone did. He tugged at the little golden hoop on his earlobe as he waited for her to answer.

Cora combed gentle fingers through her hair, considering his question seriously. She frowned in thought, and Eris took a moment to admire the way her full lips turned down into a pout. “I could never be an artist.” 

“Why not?” He might have been more curious if she had not decided to lift her skirts, flashing the skin of her ankle while she slipped off her shoes. It was his attempt at learning more about her, allowing her the chance to speak, since she shared nothing without a bit of prompting. 

You talk so much, and yet you say so little.

Eris had huffed a laugh at her remark, the only thing she had snarled at him as he had escorted her to Elain on their first day in the Autumn Court. He had found Cora startling, when most things at his age were simply to be expected. 

Eris had since learned that he was a raging forest fire in her presence, and she seemed to be the wind breathing more life into the flames. He could hardly look away from her when she was near, his eyes falling onto her when she entered any room. 

He had been half hard at the thought of her lips, at the promise of her kisses, before he had even opened the door to the small space he was now in.

Eris watched as Cora raised her shoulders in a shrug, as she made her way with elegant steps across the carpeted floors and towards the bed. His breath caught in his throat as she sat on the edge of the mattress, he could hear her steady pulse in his ears. 

“They wouldn’t let you, in the Hewn City?” He said softly, remembering she had been responding to another one of his questions with her shrug. 

Cora placed her hand so close to where his rested on the blankets, and he silently urged her to reach out, to let her fingers inch forward ever so slightly. She did not, choosing instead to blow a strand of her dark hair away from her eyes. 

Cora shook her head, “They have more need of musicians.” 

Eris’s mind turned to the solstice balls he had attended in the Night Court, the lilting music that everyone danced to as the evening went on. “So you don’t play an instrument,” he concluded. 

To his surprise, she laughed, the sound echoing in his skull. 

Lovely. 

“I’m very old,” she moved towards him suddenly, their noses nearly touching as she got onto her knees. “I play three.” 

Eris breathed in deeply, the scent of spruce trees and mountain air lingered and he felt drunk, his thoughts slow. “Very impressive,” he murmured, falling onto his back as Cora crawled towards him, her intentions clear. She placed a hand on his shoulder, using him for balance, one leg going over his waist so that she could straddle his lap.

Cora hovered above him, and while Eris had been expecting a kiss, he froze as she raised a hand towards his upturned face. She let scar-flecked fingers trail along the sharp line of his cheekbone, her thumb stopping on his lips. 

They stayed like that for a moment, before Eris broke the heavy silence. “Kiss me,” he ordered, but even to his own ears the words were breathless, the illusion of control. Cora ignored him, choosing to instead unlace the strings at his throat. She traced his jaw gently, and he stilled as she reached for his neck.

“Getting into fights?” She murmured and Eris winced. He had forgotten about the bruises, about the punches thrown between himself and Ronan moments before he had gone looking for her. 

It would have been too much to explain that he and Ronan always argued about the war camps now settled further into Spring’s territory, especially since Cora’s loyalties laid with the High Lord and Lady of Night. 

Eris decided not to answer, pulling her down so that he could nip at the skin between her neck and shoulder. His hand grappled for purchase in the fabric of her skirts, pulling them up so they could pool closer to her knees. He let his palm travel up the smooth curve of her calf, kissed her neck as he brushed his canines against her pulse. Eris paused at the knife strapped to the inside of her thigh, pulling away to raise an auburn brow at her. 

Cora blushed, her brown cheeks darkening a shade at the desire she must have spotted in his amber eyes. “For later,” she said, a mischievous smile gracing her stunning features. He felt himself further harden at the thought, pants straining as he wondered how she might put her blade to use. He would let her draw blood if she wished.

“Planning my murder?” Eris asked as Cora made herself comfortable, knees on either side of him. She pulled up her skirts further and his eyes tracked the movement, his hands followed along, touching every inch of skin she revealed. She was teasing, fully aware of the effect she had on him. 

Cora hummed, the sound making him shiver. “I do love treason.” 

Eris breathed a small laugh, a dreadful mistake on his part. The scent of her arousal lingered around them and he found himself growing tired of her games. He needed to taste her, had been thinking about it all day. 

Tightening his grip on the back of her thighs, Eris pulled Cora forward, perhaps more roughly than he intended. 

She threw out her hands, catching herself on the headboard, looking down at him with disdain. He had forgotten for a moment how small she was. Her dark hair fell around them, it was long, so long, as though she had not cut it in centuries. “Was that necessary?” 

Eris grinned up at her from his place splayed out along her pillows. “Sit.” 

Cora glared at him, as though she simply would have left him there, to annoy him as much as to prove that her will was stronger than his own. 

If it had been anyone else, Eris might have gotten up and left, to make a point that he did as he pleased and the faeries he dragged to his bed were merely a nice little distraction. 

He was, after all, a prince. 

Instead, he ran his hands up her thighs, feather light, before he repeated himself. “Sit.” 

And Cora did. 

Eris was used to the males and females of Autumn, vicious in court but shy when it came to their own pleasure. He knew it was because they were afraid, wisely so considering the reputation Eris had built for himself. He would thoroughly seduce them, bring them back to his chambers, and watch as they trembled, unsure, hands at their sides. 

It had been fun at first, but Eris was dreadfully bored, and Cora was interesting. She knew exactly what to do with her hands, dragging curses and moans from Eris’s lips with nothing but a simple twist of her wrist. She was also absolutely gorgeous, her dark eyes haunting him so he could not have a moment’s peace. 

He breathed in deeply, leaving a trail of kisses up the inside of her thigh. The dagger was still there, the metal cool against his cheek, and he licked just above the hilt with a long swipe of his tongue.

When his mouth brushed over the spot he knew would bring her the most pleasure, he paused, waiting for her permission. She shifted impatiently above him, and although she could not see him through the curtain of her skirts, Eris smiled. 

He pressed the flat of his tongue against her, and he felt as her nails scratched at the skin of his scalp, as her fingers tangled into the auburn strands of his hair and she kept him in place. Eris decided he would have gladly spent the rest of his life between her thighs, he groaned at the taste, pressed her more fully to his mouth, tongue moving. 

The one hand keeping her balanced, Eris spread her thighs further apart, inviting her to move if it would please her. His booted feet drew restlessly against the fur blankets, he wanted her to come on his mouth. 

He wanted her. 

Eris knew Cora was close as she clenched her thighs around him. He kept his hands on her, felt her muscles tense and he made a soft sound as she pulled away entirely. 

There were skirts in his mouth, he realised, just as Cora’s knee roughly knocked into the side of his head, a short burst of pain shooting into his temple. She kicked him in the gut in her effort to move away and Eris grunted at the contact of her foot against him. 

“The torches,” she breathed, her voice a whispered hiss. 

Eris barely understood what she was saying, his mind a mess, desire making it hard for him to think straight. She was adjusting her skirts, fixing her sleeves.  

“What about them?” Eris asked, eyes tracking her movements as he sat up. He licked his lips, fighting the urge to moan as he tasted her on his tongue. 

“They did something strange,” she was content to ignore the burning gaze he cast on her, looking instead towards the doors and paying attention to the flames flickering rather normally on the other side of the small room. 

“The fire reacts to me,” he said, a snarl entering his tone as he placed a broad hand on her small waist and pulled her towards him. His chest was rising and falling like he had been drowning and was drawing his first breath of air. “It reacts to me, reacting to you.” 

She rolled her eyes, as though she did not believe a single word he said. She ran a cool finger under the fabric of his collar. “I worry someone might see us.” 

“Don’t,” Eris mumbled as she deliberately began to undo the buttons of his waistcoat. She did so expertly, dragging it from his shoulders where it fell onto the mattress in a careless heap. 

Through the lighter fabric of his shirt, Eris felt as Cora’s hand lingered on his back. Her nails caught on the raised skin there. 

Lashes. 

He had whispered the word to Cora when she had paused at the feel of them the first night he had gotten her into his bed. She had pulled away just enough to hold his gaze, had searched his face for answers but was met with the expressionless mask he had long ago mastered. 

Punishments.

Cora had correctly guessed, he had witnessed the shift in her demeanour at the realisation, although she had said nothing. The lovers he took were usually Autumn born and raised, were usually well aware of the way the High Lord treated each of his sons. Still, Eris had felt as though Cora had become a bit more gentle, that she had held him like he was a piece of glass, easily breakable. 

“Eris,” she said softly, pulling him from his thoughts as she placed a kiss just below his jaw only to tug the shirt from where he had carefully tucked it. Her fingers traced the muscles of his stomach as he cupped the back of her head to keep her close. When she reached the laces at his pants, undoing them swiftly, he felt his lips part as she touched him. 

He wished she would say his name again, but he did not complain as she kissed him deeply, their tongues fighting for dominance as she wrapped delicate fingers around his length. His hands once again went under her skirts, fingers searching when he heard his best friend’s voice in the corridor. 

“Lady Elain Archeron,” Lethe said loudly, the name echoing with a hint of magic. It was his request for her to keep watch, but Eris instantly regretted it. 

Cora pushed herself away from him once more and Eris snarled his annoyance, wishing his little brother’s mate had retired for the evening. 

“I told you the torches had done something strange,” Cora accused, tossing his waistcoat for him to catch. She stumbled on the edge of the carpet as she rushed to put on her shoes, cursing him under her breath.

Eris ran fingers through his hair to ensure that no strand was out of place, adjusting his clothes to perfection and using his magic to scatter the scent of their still burning arousal. 

“Find me when she leaves,” Eris offered, hoping Cora would join him later. He would have hated to use his hand to find pleasure after their encounter. He unlocked the door, pausing with his fingers gripping the handle. Cora shuffled behind him, skirts ruffling, and he waited with bated breath for her response. 

Cora walked towards him quickly, each action rushed so she could throw him out of her room before Elain arrived to knock on the door. She reached out, no hesitation in the gesture as she grabbed onto his arm. Eris watched as she got onto the very tips of her toes, following her lead when she pulled down on his sleeve. He had to bend at the waist, practically bowing for her, so that she could place the softest of kisses onto his cheek. “I make no promises,” she murmured, letting her fingers trail down towards his wrist, her thumb stroking the skin there absently before she moved away from him with a playful shove in the direction of the hallway. 

Eris felt his entire face heat, and he bit the inside of his lip, frustrated with his uncommon lack of self control. He hoped Cora could not see the scarlet blush he was sure would reveal his slight attachment to her. 

Eris could hardly remember the last time someone had been so gentle with him, could hardly remember needing anyone’s affection. He said nothing, was unable to face her, so he merely schooled his features into a serious mask. 

Eris opened the oak door roughly and stepped past the stone archway, mind whirling with thoughts of Cora, only to crash bodily into Elain Archeron.

[xxvalkyriesxx]

But what if in a paranormal/modern au where Elain is an centuries old vampire living a semi quiet life with her sisters swearing off anyone to fall in love with, since it's pointless being immortal and all. But all of those plans go out the window *YEET* the second she meets Lucien Vanserra, their new neighbor in the next townhouse. Elain catches him when she can at night since she can't stay in the sun for too long. And before long she's falling for him. And maybe she can convivence her sisters he's her chosen mate and that they should turn him!

The only catch though?

Lucien Vaserra isn't just any human male. Actually he isn't fully human. He's the son of Helios, the Greek god of the Sun.

Which means Elain can't even touch him nevermind drink his blood! What's a vampire to do?

[the-lonelybarricade]

The feminine urge to start a new elucien long fic

[zenkindoflove]

And you know what that means...

The return of crazykindoflove ( @crazy-ache and me) with our Elucien Week fic submission for Fearless.

It's gonna get spooky y'all.

[velidewrites]

To get back what the Cauldron has taken from her, Elain Archeron makes a deal with Prythian’s most dangerous enemy.

Now, a servant of a cruel Death God, Elain must make sure her efforts are not discovered—especially not by someone tied to her darkening heart by a golden thread.

Someone like her mate.

Notes: My humble offering for @elucienweekofficial. This fic is a post-ACOSF story — and very close to my heart as it’s based on the very first one-shot I’ve ever written.

Tags: Post-ACOSF, Canon Compliant, NSFW

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 - They Don’t Understand You

Chapter 2 - Could You Be The Devil?

Chapter 3 - You’re Not Like The Others

Chapter 4 - Fill Me With Your Poison

Chapter 5 - Leave My Body Glowing

Chapter 6 - You Open My Eyes

Chapter 7 - I’m Ready To Go

Elucien Week Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @areyoudreaminof @fieldofdaisiies @kingofsummer93 @witchlingsandwyverns @gracie-rosee @stickyelectrons @selesera @sv0430 @capbuckyfalcon @betterthaneveryword @tasha2627

[animezinglife]

Opinion:

If their story is going to move forward at all--regardless of direction--Elain and Lucien pretty much need to be thrown out into the unknown together away from her sisters and the prying eyes of Night.

I don't know how that would happen. Do they get separated from the others due to some kind of attack? Do they volunteer to go together to handle a political situation since Feyre and Rhys are new parents and Cass and Nesta will more likely than not stick together? Does Elain finally reach her limit of being coddled and demand to go with him?

I don't know how it would happen, and I don't really care.

But I desperately want to see them out on their own and how that changes their interactions.

Because it absolutely will.

[talons-and-teeth]

Your Taste, Forever on My Tongue

Pairing: Elain/Lucien

Rating: M

Summary: Elain's office is running a Secret Santa event that coincides with the launch of the new website which she's leading on. She happens to get allocated the last person she could ever think of getting a gift for.

Merry Christmas, @makememakesense ! It's me, your Secret Santa!

Thank you so much being so lovely and giving me so many ideas for this AU, I really hope I got it (somewhat) right!

Thank you also to the @acotargiftexchange organisers for giving me this opportunity. This is my first ever fic and I've been so nervous about it, but I'm so glad to have done it for such a joyful community. Special thanks goes to my wife @mmiscbutterflies for helping me brainstorm and bring my 'Love, Actually' vision to life, and generally talk me down from the proverbial ledge when I became anxious/was not in the right headspace to write. Love you always.

Read on AO3 here

Snippet below:

Elain was late.

Not her usual, sorry I’m late-I couldn’t resist-there was a new cafe I just had to try on the way- late, but a fuck me-I slept through five alarms-maybe I spent too long watching reruns of Bake Off-or was it the bottle of Sauvignon?- tardiness, which left her cursing profusely while she tripped over her tights, slapped on eye cream and was out the door.

[crazy-ache]

Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: An Epistolary Fic (Chapters 12 & 13 - FINAL Update)

Title: Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: An Epistolary Fic (Chapter XII & XIII - Now Complete) Rating: M Summary:

“Perhaps you can speak them to me, if you so wish. I apologize if that is too forward, but I yearn to know you beyond simple pleasantries.

Yours truly,

Lucien

P.S. My lady, your secrets are always safe with me.”

Epistolary (adj., of a literary work) in the form of letters. After the winter solstice in ACOSF, Elain and Lucien exchange letters as a means to get to know each other away from prying eyes. This fic is a collection of those letters.

Author’s Note: This is the FINAL installment update for our collab (me + @zenkindoflove )! Please note this is TWO chapter updates, and it is also our last, final update. 😭 We just want to say THANK YOU to everyone who has followed along and supported us! You can also find out who was writing for who....

READ HERE ON AO3

Previously On DLDE....

Another development has occurred. Nesta and Cassian are mates, not that that has come to any surprise to us. They have decided to have an official mating ceremony, and it’s happening quickly. A little over two weeks from now. You should be receiving an invitation if it hasn’t already arrived. Do you think that Spring will be in enough order for you to come even if it’s just for a day? I am in need of a date. 

Tag List: @shardminds , @works-of-heart , @the-darkestminds , @emmers-bens123 , @lmadness , @sweetnslyth , @rarephloxes , @fox-in-flowers , @lectoradefics , @goldenmagnolias , @addicted-to-nothing , @popjunkie42 , @bakananya , @scrawlandspirits , @animezinglife , @fuckyeselucien , @lucienarcheron , @mr-agent-mulder , @teddyhoneybear , @goghwilde , @starsreminisce , @bibliophiliaxvignette , @dreamingthroughthenoise , @olenvasynyt , @acourtofthought , @lplusl , @shadybirdwombat , @wormees , @yaralulu , @my-inner-crisis , @julesofvolterra , @fieldofdaisiies

[fieldofdaisiies]

"Don’t tell me to be a good husband when you yourself fail so greatly at it!" - Lucien Vanserra to Eris Vanserra

[lucienarcheron]

who is more likely to drunkingly ask the other at 2am “what are we?” (they’ve been married and mated for YEARS at this point) - Elain or Lucien?

Elain. I've always pictured Elain as a very giggly, affectionate drunk but a lightweight so she's easily in lalaland after a few drinks. This beautiful male is literally in bed with her and just for a second, she isn't quite sure. Blinking at him with her big beautiful brown eyes and in all seriousness, "Lucien, what does this mean?"

Lucien, who has already dealt with this at least six times, only rolls his eyes, looking directly at the ring on her finger. "I don't know, Elain. What does it mean?"

Cue the dramatic gasp from Elain and Lucien trying not to piss himself when she starts going on a long-winded crisis speech of what they are to each other and how he is only using her for her body and that he should be ashamed!!!

Lucien's prepared though with a snack and some water to calm her down, assuring her that isn't a hooligan taking advantage of her 🙂‍↕️ She doesn't remember any of this the next morning.

[separatist-apologist]

You’re right, it is rough for us new folks. It’s frustrating trying to navigate when so many people spew hate towards each other.

I’m getting so tired of seeing “If you believe ___, then you have no reading comprehension.” Even from people whose opinions I agree with.

It’s gotten better as I’ve blocked people/filtered tags, but back when I first got here, it was awful.

I'm putting all my opinions under a cut just because it was long, and not because it was triggering

I think, from my perspective, it's two separate things. On the one hand, the obsession with canon, whether people want to admit it or not, stems from this belief that all the shippers they personally hate will HAVE to leave once we get book confirmation.

Which, of course, explains the sizable Azris/Neris community. That's how that works.

It always gets dressed up "well I just want the "bad" shippers to go" without admitting they want EVERYONE to leave, AND that their aggressive behavior only punishes the people who are trying to ship and let ship outside of the bullshit. The people in love with fighting won't leave, they'll simply rebrand into an anti account.

And secondly, this belief that it's SooOOOOoOOOOooOOOooo obvious what the next book is about from an author who retcons her own world building book to book and has done so since the inception of this series. Which like, to some degree, is the one thing everyone agrees on, but only conditionally and only when it suits them.

So canon becomes a convenient, inconsistently applied weapon in which some folks can beat others over the head with to shove their very specific interpretation of the books onto others- this happens even IN the ship (see: I'm, apparently, not really an elucien and I owe that one redditor who claimed I "sometimes" wrote elucien and was a feysand/gwynriel an apology LMAO). I've watched people within the ship itself fight smaller, newer accounts because their vision doesn't align with what often what amounts to a fanon interpretation ANYWAY.

Ultimately, none of this would be any of my business (and its not lost on me I was vaguing people instead of just calling them out directly), except for the amount of people who routinely slide into my DMs talking about how nervous they are to interact, how other people have come after them with sharp teeth for the crime of different head canons/ship preferences. I take that personally, I guess, because I remember being new and nervous and like, people were mostly very welcoming and kind.

This is everyones hobby, and it's both not serious, not life threatening, or worth a lot of the vitriol that happens day to day. I wish folks would consider the question, "who cares?" when it's not offensive or harmful.