#the entire ACOWAR chapter that's has Feyre be like Mor why are you edging on Azriel like that and she finally replies BECAUSE I LIKE FEMALES

[alicentsaegon]

In light of Pride Month i just want to point out that SJM is such a bad writer and her rep is so poorly handled that people still think that Morrigan is bisexual

[rwolf19]

Garden - An Elucien Fic

Length: 2379

Rating: T, SFW

Next | The Pull (Nessian) | Star of Spring

A/N: I'm back with more I-should-be-asleep-but-I'm-writing 'cause my crush is coming over in a few to watch some Hobbit so I'm awake. This is an Elucien fic (no shit, right?) that takes place a little before my Nessian fic but still post-ACOWAR. And I'm pretty sure I'm going to continue The Pull -- not like I already wrote the next chapter or anything ;)

—•—•—•—•—

They did a lot of quiet sitting. Lucien seemed happy to sit and read in her presence and Elain . . . didn't mind at all. Every so often he would get up to do something in another room (she pretended not to watch as he moved) and return only to sit some place else, closer to her. She didn't mind that either.

 Elain did not want to be forward. She didn't know how many people Lucien had been with. She didn't know if any had been as quiet as her. She felt like she didn't know anything about his life before her. Feyre had given her a quiet warning not to talk about Tamlin, who Elain was perpetually confused about. She didn't even know how many hundreds of years old Lucien was, or if he was just fifty years old. She wondered when fifty years old had become young to her.

Elain never, never tried to use her abilities to see Lucien. Not once. She didn't want to know. She wasn't brave like Nesta and Feyre. She'd rather pretend to be as normal as a human-turned-faerie could be. Considering her models were her sisters, she was struggling.

Elain finished a chapter and fitted a book marker Azriel had found for her between the pages. Lucien was watching her over his own book, not at all discreetly. She hoped she wasn't as obvious about her staring whenever he got up. She didn't mind his eyes on her, she just didn't know if he didn't like it when she watched him. She didn't want to upset him.

"I'm going up to the garden," she said softly.

Lucien nodded, "Would . . . would you like me to join you?"

Elain nodded back, biting her lip. She never asked him to come with her. She didn't want him to feel obligated to accompany her. But if he wanted to, if he offered, that was different. He closed his book and set it down on top of hers, offering his arm. Elain took it, looking away from him down to the floor. They went upstairs together, chatting amicably about their books.

"You know, it's a little odd, actually," Lucien chuckled. "Feyre recommended it to me."

"She understands people so easily," Elain sighed. She was never sure of what someone else thought, of her or anything else. She just wanted them to be happy and she could do that with little things. She liked little things, flowers and the tiny birds that flitted through the small fruit trees, smiles from strangers and a friendly face. So, she thought, at least some people must be happy with those things too.

"You believe the best of people," Lucien said. "Not enough do."

Elain met his eyes for a heart beat as they paused near the door to the roof. "You think that's a good thing?"

Lucien smiled, "I think it's a wonderful thing. And . . . I'd like to see you keep believing the best of people."

"You don't think I will?"

He chuckled, a low rumbling that Elain liked. She had learned all sorts of male laughs lately, what with Feyre's Court, but she enjoyed Lucien's most. She didn't know if it was because they were mates or because it sounded so genuinely amused. "You've already seen a war, Elain. If that hasn't shaken you, I don't want to know what will."

Elain liked the way he said her name, too. His voice in general. She kissed his cheek before she could convince herself not to and skipped out to her garden. She also liked that he had faith in the part of her that she was so scared would leave her. Everyone spoke of how kind she was and said she was a sweetheart (though they said it differently than Cassian did when he crooned in at her sister). She feared waking up one day and finding herself taking joy in other's misery. The closest she'd ever come to that was stabbing someone in the neck. She didn't particularly want to do it again, though.

Elain pulled weeds that shouldn't have been able to find their way to the rooftop garden. She suspected the birds of carrying seeds. Lucien tried to help. He knew enough not to accidentally uproot her flowers. He missed some, though. Elain paused as she touched a late blooming flower. She could hear ten thousand roots pushing into the ground, Lucien's steady heart and breathing, the City of Starlight's bustling.

"Elain?" He was touching her arm gently where she knelt. She leaned back into him, touching her head gently. It was all so much sometimes. She still was adjusting to her new form and gifts. Things came to her so vaguely. She couldn't think over the plants' rustling. The wind was howling, louder and louder. "Elain," Lucien's warm breath tickled her brow as he pulled her hair back with hands that felt even larger than usual. He shifted to kneel in front of her carefully. She tried to find his eyes. She could hear the not-russet one whirring and clicking. His heart beat was becoming faster. "Elain, are you all right?" She closed her eyes, trying to keep the sun from burning her eyes. She could hear worms twisting in the earth, the same way they had twisted through bodies not long ago. "My mother is a lot like you," Lucien said quietly. "She has powers no one expected of her and she is so incredibly kind. But my father, he doesn't care about her kindness. After he gets what he wants from her, he doesn't care at all. He has the power to control flames too, but there isn't a thing about him that's warm. My mother, on the other hand, was the warmest personality I ever knew, until, that is, I met you. My father hasn't actively strived to smother her kindness, but it has been happening for centuries regardless. You've never had a soul do that to you. And I want to keep anyone from trying, purposefully or not."

"Did you tell Nesta that?" Elain murmured. She looked up at him finally. She hadn't realized how much she was shaking until she saw her hand on his shoulder, twitching.

"Nesta won't hear more than three words out of my mouth before she attacks me or leaves the room," Lucien smiled but he looked the same way he did when he was tired after a long night of Feyre's Court bickering.

"I'm sorry," Elain whispered.

"You're still adjusting to- to everything. You have nothing to apologize for," Lucien's brows scrunched so that there was a line between them. Elain liked it. It seemed very human.

Wings boomed above them, and Elain looked up. Feyre, Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian dropped down from the sky, landing one after another. Lucien helped Elain to her feet, and she wiped her hands on the skirt of her dress without thinking.

"How my garden?" Rhys called.

"Your garden? Elain takes care of it," Feyre shoved him, pausing to flare her wings out in the sun with a sigh. Rhys dragged a finger down her wing and she gasped.

"My house."

"Our house."

"You make house payments?”

"I didn't realize you make house payments," Feyre said slowly, eyes narrowing in confusion.

"The plants would all be dead without Elain," Lucien called bluntly. She murmured a denial and hid behind him slightly.

"Elain's garden," Azriel nodded, offering her one of his small smiles. She returned it before looking to the door, waiting. Ten seconds later, Nesta burst through it. She stopped once through the door, taking in the winged troop before her. She and Cassian each took a step toward one another before stopping.

Elain was just mildly irritated with this. She had seen a nephew of hers, winged and dark haired and tanned. She just didn't know which of her sisters he belonged to and when he would arrive. It had been Mor holding him, clapping his hands together as she sang. But it wasn't Mor's child. She knew it more surely than she did most things that had already happened. Nesta turned to Feyre, "I take it flying is going well."

"Cassian nearly took her arm off training," Rhys grumbled. They all started moving toward Nesta and the door. She stepped aside to let them through.��

"She nearly decapitated me," Cassian protested from the back of the group. Azriel chuckled and ducked inside. Feyre followed.

"You taught me well, you should be proud," Feyre laughed.

"Proud my ass," Rhys muttered.

Cassian lingered to murmur something to Nesta even Elain couldn't hear. Nesta scowled and pushed him, though Elain thought she saw a blush redden her cheeks. Cassian chuckled and trailed her inside.

"Do you want to go in or stay out here?" Lucien asked, his hand finding the small of her back. He was very warm.

"I haven't done much gardening yet," Elain said quietly, looking down at her flowers. "You can join them, if you want."

"Would you rather I stay with you?" She found his eyes at this. He asked her more questions than any other being she'd met. She didn't know if it was because her sisters had scared him so terribly or if that was just his way. She found her fingers tracing the edges of his scar.

"You understand people better than I do," Elain whispered. "Do you know why they say mean things to one another and laugh about it?"

"No, not really. Mostly to show their friends they like them, as far as I know," Lucien smiled, his hand sliding across her back slightly. She was very close to him. "But it is good fun."

"Flowers don't do that," Elain said, not entirely sure why she was talking. He was looking at her . . . She couldn't explain it.

"They certainly don't," he admitted. His hair was pulled back. It looked bright and lively in the sun.

"You're rude to others and dote on me too much," Elain tried. She was certain Cassian would've roared with laughter at her poor attempt at mimicry. Lucien just smiled wider.

"You spend too much time with flowers," Lucien said. Elain smiled to match him. He laughed and leaned down so his forehead touched hers. "I feel like a child again."

Elain giggled, "I think I might still be a child, compared to the rest of you."

"Not many children can boast of your aptitude for foliage."

"Foliage?" Elain gasped. "Foliage?!"

Lucien laughed harder, his shaking rolling through her.

"Well, Lucien," Elian's face heated. But Feyre would've said it to Rhys. And she wouldn't have even thought it a brave thing to say. And Elain wanted to say it, and she wanted to see how Lucien would react. "Not many children can boast of your aptitude for seducing females."

His laughter bubbled out. He was looking at her that way again. "I didn't realize my abilities applied to you."

The low way he spoke made Elain bite her lip and find safe haven in staring at his chin. She couldn't help it when her gaze drifted to his lips. She was still holding his face, still gently stroking the marred skin below his eye.

"Maybe you aren't as good at people as I thought," Elain murmured. Lucien smiled again, smaller and more predatory. Feyre would've called it 'male satisfaction.' Elain didn't mind it at all.

"I'm going to kiss you now, Elain," he breathed. She closed her eyes as he leaned closer until finally his lips met hers. He was soft and gentle, even when her hand slid back into his hair. As though they had all the time in the world, and they were the only ones in it. She felt it for the first time. The bond between them. Her joy was echoed and multiplied on the other side of it. She could hardly breathe by the time they pulled apart. Lucien touched his forehead to hers again, laughing quietly as she giggled.

"I haven't wanted to do that in a while," Lucien said.

"I thought I was more tantalizing than that," Elain pouted. He kissed her cheek gently, another laugh rumbling through him.

"You have no idea," Lucien promised.

"Tell me."

"Elain," Lucien coughed, pulling away from her slightly. Her hand drifted out of his hair down to his shoulder. She brushed at the nape of his neck with her fingertips lightly. "You'd think I was some kind of . . . uncontrolled beast."

"Tell me, mate," Elain said, watching him. His eyes widened slightly and he stared blankly at her, blinking several times. She liked to surprise Lucien, she decided.

"There are moments," Lucien sighed, leaning closer to her until his breath tickled her ear. She closed her eye again, listening to his voice. "Where I want nothing more than to throw you against the wall and tear your clothes off. And I have to think of what Nesta would do to me to stop myself from touching you."

"Are you really that scared of her?"

"I've considered alliances with Cassian to distract her, but I doubt he'd risk his own neck for me," Lucien chuckled.

"I'll talk to her," Elain kissed his jaw. He buried his head in her neck, breathing in the scent of her. She did the same. The scent of people was still such an odd thing to her. Yes, she could see and taste and hear so much better, but the scents were off putting. She could track Nesta and Feyre starting from where they'd been hours before. Lucien's scent was as warm and welcoming as his voice.

"Elain? Are you still-"

She pulled away from Lucien just slightly at her sister's voice. His hand hooked around her waist lightly. Feyre's eyes darted between Elain and Lucien. She neither smiled nor frowned. She just watched them for a moment. "Nesta is going to have a trip south of the- of Spring Court in about a month and a half," Feyre said plainly. "We're eating dinner at the House of Wind in a few minutes."

"Shall I get started on the steps?" Lucien asked drily.

"Cassian will come back for you," Feyre said, turning to go back inside. "Probably."