#this was written with minimal editing because work got too hectic today oops

[vulpes-fennec]

@elainweekofficial Day 3: A snippet of the shenanigans that ensue when Elain and the Band of Exiles dog-sit Eris's smokehounds 🐶

“What in Cauldron’s name is happening?” Lucien’s hands were planted squarely on his hips as Eris Vanserra wedged past him. The High Lord of Autumn had shown up to the Band of Exiles’ manor with his entire pack of smokehounds bright and early.

“Oh!” Elain popped her head around the corner. “Good morning, Eris! Hello Isabella! Quenby! Yana and Collin!” She rubbed the passing hounds affectionately on their heads. With the dogs’ soulful brown eyes, soft and short hairs, lolling tongues, and wagging tails, who wouldn’t fall in love with them?

Eris tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Good morning, Elain.” 

“Smokehounds,” Vassa breathed in amazement, joining the throng at the door. The human queen’s sapphire eyes sparkled at the magical dogs jostling their way down the hall.

“I volunteered to watch Eris’s dogs while he went on his honeymoon,” Elain explained, turning her doe brown eyes towards Lucien. 

Lucien’s frown softened at Elain’s hopeful expression. They had only started courting very recently, taking things slowly the old-fashioned—human—way. It seemed Elain had taken the initiative to win his brother’s favor by not only memorizing all of Eris’s dogs, but by also offering to care for them.

“But agreeing to watch your dogs for the week is not the same as letting all of them move in,” Lucien protested. For Eris was unloading box after box of belongings into the living room. Beds, toys, food, treats, leashes, blankets…even little jackets. All twelve members of the pack, colored in varying shades of sleek gray, were sniffing furniture with their long, elegant noses.

“My dogs are very high maintenance,” Eris said defensively. “Besides, they like you the most out of all our brothers. You should take that as a compliment.” Eris smacked a thick packet into Lucien’s chest. Lucien flipped through the pamphlet, eyes growing wider and wider. 

“Give Collin a hot soak every night. Bridgett must be fed promptly at 6 in the evening. Silas only plays with the green wool ball. What is this?” Lucien read incredulously. 

“Those are the care instructions.” Eris rolled his eyes, implying obviously at the end of his response.

“You have twenty pages of—” 

“I don’t want to hear it, Lucien,” Vassa interrupted, giving Lucien a queenly stare with her blazing blue eyes. “I approved of having the dogs come over as well. I hope you enjoy your honeymoon, Lord Eris.” She bowed her head at the Autumn High Lord.

“Dogs!” Jurian’s voice echoed from the hall. “They’re here!” 

“Oh gods, here he comes,” Lucien groaned. The Mad General barreled into the room, his shoulder-length brown hair frazzled, shirt half-buttoned.

“I love dogs,” Jurian said enthusiastically as the hounds jumped up and down excitedly at the prospect of a new friend. “I used to be a dog whisperer back in the day.” 

“I’m sure you were,” Vassa muttered under her breath. 

“Saoirse, down,” Eris commanded as one of the females practically bowled Jurian over. “You know better than to jump on strangers.” 

“I’m sure they won’t remain strangers for long,” Elain giggled as Saoirse licked Jurian’s face eagerly. Vassa and Jurian’s faces bore huge smiles as they gave each hound plenty of attention.

After several minutes, Lucien looked at Eris expectantly. “Well, what are you waiting for? Don’t you have a honeymoon to pack for?” 

“I don’t want to leave them,” Eris said gruffly, turning away. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re crying.” Lucien sighed, rolling his eyes.  

“You wouldn’t understand, baby brother,” Eris snapped, wiping his eyes. “When you have children one day, you will feel the same way.” Elain blushed at the implication of Lucien with children. 

“They’ll be fine, Eris. I’m sure they’ll forget all about you soon enough.” 

“Lucien, don’t be cruel.” Elain swatted Lucien’s arm. “Your dogs will be in good hands, don’t you worry, Eris. Time will fly by sooner than you think.”  

Eris sniffled, glaring at his brother. “Thank you, Elain. At least someone here has some compassion.” 

***

Lunchtime feeding had been utter chaos. 

“Sit! Sit!” Jurian had instructed repeatedly. “You’re not getting food until you sit!” The hounds only wagged their tails at him, not a single coherent thought behind their eyes. 

Of course, they only listened to Lucien, whose flaming red hair and cadence of voice was most similar to their master’s. The fae male managed to get the hounds—Arienne, Bridgette, Collin, Erick, Isabella, Lea, Mateo, Phillipe, Quenby, Silas, Victoria, and Yana—chowing down grains, vegetables, and premium cuts of meat in somewhat orderly fashion.  

Now that it was afternoon, Elain and Vassa lounged on the lawn, watching Jurian and Lucien play with the dogs. An hour of strenuous exercise per day, Eris had instructed. Jurian and Lucien were both hardy warriors, but the dogs’ boundless energy seemed to be running them ragged. 

Several smokehounds—Phillipe, Isabella, and Arienne—ambled around, taking their garden sniffs very seriously. Elain kept a careful eye on them, making sure they did not ingest any of her carefully cultivated plants. 

Lea and Erick sat beside her on the soft blanket, their sweet eyes gazing as she munched on cookies and miniature cakes. “Sorry, darlings,” Elain apologized, “no snacks for you.” 

“Give the dog a little treat,” Vassa grumbled, her nose buried in a book. “They deserve the world.” 

Elain frowned. “Eris would not forgive me if he came back and found them several pounds heavier.” 

Vassa rolled her eyes with the confidence of a self-assured queen. “Trust me, you should be more concerned about getting Daphne and Helion’s approval. Lucien’s parents, remember?” 

Elain gave her friend a pointed glare as she threaded daisies into a chain. “Trust you? You’ve never had to meet Jurian’s parents.”  

“Fine, you have a point there. But why wouldn’t Lucien prioritize what his mother and his newly-found father, the High Lord of Day, think?” 

Elain dropped the daisy crown onto Lea’s head. The hound tucked its snout between its paws contentedly. She chewed her lip worriedly. “Do you think he—” 

Vassa waved her hand. “Oh, goodness, no. That male? He’s clearly in love with you. And you clearly possess strong feelings for him. Why you want to take things at a snail’s pace—”

“Snail’s pace!” Elain sputtered.

“Yes, Elain Archeron,” she intoned slowly. “The main characters in this novel have only known each other for six days, and they’re fucking already. You and Lucien have known each other for three years…have you even kissed?”

“Of-of course we have! I am not a prude!” 

Vassa tapped the cover of the book she was reading. Selkie’s Cove by Sellyn Drake. “This is a great story, by the way. Here, you should read it. For some inspiration.” The human queen winked, making Elain blush at its implication. 

Elain cocked her head. “Do you hear that?” 

“Hear what?” The sound of distant yelling grew closer and closer. It was Jurian. 

“Aaaahhhh!! Help meee!!” The human general came sprinting out of the woods, three smokehounds hot on his heels. Jurian zig-zagged around tree stumps and hopped over muddy patches, commanding the dogs to stop chasing him. Unfortunately, that only seemed to excite them more.

“Some dog whisperer you are,” Elain called out to Jurian. 

“Stop running!” Vassa shouted. “Use your assertive general voice, Jurian!” 

“Afternoon, ladies.” Lucien jogged over, grinning mischievously. 

“Something tells me you know why the smokehounds won’t leave Jurian alone,” Elain’s brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“I may have slipped a piece of beef jerky into his pocket,” Lucien laughed softly. “He’s been lagging during our sparring sessions, so I figured he needed to work on his stamina.” 

“Stamina?” Elain nudged Vassa with a sneaky grin. 

***

Preparing dinner for twelve hungry hounds had been no easy feat. Thankfully, Jurian and Lucien’s expert knife skills had the vegetables and meat chopped up within half an hour. Promptly at 6 in the evening, per Eris’s demands.  

Vassa brushed Arienne and Quenby’s shiny coats with a soft bristle brush, while Elain read Selkie’s Cove by the crackling fireplace. Silas had his head on her lap, while Phillipe dozed off next to her. Lucien and Jurian were somewhere in the kitchen, opening up bottles of wine. A cozy night seemed to be in store.

“Hey, you! Mateo! Or is it Erick?” Jurian rushed into the room, for a smokehound was standing on the pink couch. 

“It’s Erick,” Elain remarked distractedly, engrossed with the utterly sinful smut. “Can’t you tell?”

“Well Erick is peeing on the couch!” Jurian wailed. “Shoo! Shoo!” The smokehound jumped off the hot pink cushion without a care in the world. Jurian dabbed at the dark stain with a cloth towel. 

“Good riddance,” Elain said offhandedly, returning to the book. “It was about time that pink monstrosity was disposed of.”

“What is happening?” Lucien sighed for the umpteenth time that day. 

“My couch! Noo!!” Jurian howled. The smokehounds around him howled in unison, bringing out a fresh round of giggles from Vassa and Elain.

Lucien ran his hands through his long hair, groaning, “I’ll bill Eris for another couch, Jurian.” 

Elain glanced up at Lucien, eyes glimmering with delight. “As long as it’s not pink, right?” she said innocently. “It was a shit interior design choice.”