Alone with Lucien, Elain has to set her feelings straight. When an innocent hike, turns to something a little more meaningful, she finds it hard to breath.
(Hi, so I haven’t exactly decided who I ship Elain or Lucien or anyone with, but I was toying with the idea and that’s where this fic came from.)
Warning: Contains mature content not suitable for some readers. Read at your own risk.
*****
Elain wrung her fingers as she watched Lucien approach. The house was empty for once, even baby Nyx had gone with his parents to the theater. So it was just her and Lucien tonight.
She didn’t know why that made her nervous.
He passed by her on the way to the kitchen. giving her a small smile that barely lifted his lips.
He didn’t smile around her.
“Do you want anything? I think Feyre left some cake for us.”
“No, thank you,” Elain chirped, searching for a way to leave without being rude. “I’m full from dinner, so I’m just gonna head to bed.”
His expression flickered, but it was too fast for her to read. “Alright. Sleep well.”
She nodded absently as she retreated to her room, her heart hammering. She wasn’t sure why. Desperately needing to cool down, she opened the window to her room, glancing over the edge to see the night-blooming flowers she’d planted earlier in the season. They were just barely opening as the sun made its descent, having flourished well in this land of moonlight.
Elain tugged her hair from its braid, smoothing a hand through it. She sighed as a tingling started at the base of her spine. It did that whenever Lucien was near, warning her of his presence.
A moment later, a soft rap sounded at her door.
“Yes?”
The knob turned, revealing that golden face. He’d cut his hair in the past months so it was now short as most males preferred. She would never admit it aloud, but it made him more handsome, showing off the sharp angles of his face.
“I was wondering if you’d like to join me for a hike. I know it’s late, but the view is better at night.”
Elain hesitated. Walking alone with any high Fae through the woods already sounded like a trap, but him… being alone was already miserable enough.
Lucien watched her face carefully, the pupil of his metal eye narrowing slightly. “You don’t have to say yes. I was going to go anyway— I just thought you’d like the fresh air.”
She glanced back to her window, where the flowers rose just beyond the pane. “I suppose it can’t hurt.”
“Brilliant. You’re gonna need better shoes.”
She looked at her slippers and chewed her bottom lip. “Alright.”
*****
In Feyre’s ill-fitting boots, Elain panted as she climbed after Lucien. Of all the things being high Fae had given her, stamina wasn’t one of them.
“You alright back there?” he asked over his shoulder, face washed in patches of moonlight coming through the leaves.
“I’m fine,” she rasped, catching up to him. The ground leveled finally, allowing her a bit of reprise. Thankfully, her wheezing breath had made talking difficult for the past mile or so they’d walked, but that advantage was quickly fading.
“You know,” Lucien said, eyes fixed on the trail, “your father talked about you a lot.”
She nearly tripped. She often forgot that Lucian had met her father, traveled with him. It was a fact that she buried deep with all the other uncomfortable knowledge of this world.
“What kind of things?” she made herself ask. She could be pleasant, even if she was craving the next slope and the asphyxiation it brought her.
Lucien kicked a rock out of the way, his boots torn and dusty. “He talked about how you used to collect wildflowers for your sisters when you were younger, and horrify your mother whenever you braided them into your hair.”
Elain chewed on her lip. She remembered those moments, before they’d installed a garden on the estate. The village girls would often help her, creating giant bundles to leave on people’s doorsteps. It was when she returned home with mud on her hands and in her hair that her mother would curl her lip and call a maid to bathe her until her skin was pink. Of all the things her mother did, that was one of the lighter punishments.
“I never understood why she didn’t like them.”
Lucien let out a small laugh. “He also talked about you finding a fruit from a poisonous tree and then puking for a week straight.”
Her nose crinkled. “Yes. That was a punishment in and of itself.”
She looked up, finding another hill for them to scale.
“We’re almost there,” Lucien said, shouldering the pack he’d brought with. She wasn’t sure what was in it, only that it bulged at the seams with cargo.
As they crested the hill, Elain finally caught sight of what they’d been hiking to. A small stream rushed through the trees, barely a dozen feet from a cliff. Beyond that, the lights of Velaris twinkled and winked at her, as if they were sharing a secret. From here, she could see the House of Wind, crowned in gold above the city that only really lived at night.
“This is stunning,” she said, stepping over a root. “How did you find it?”
Lucien shrugged as he eyed the stream. “I like exploring. I don’t really do much else here.”
At the tone of his voice, she glanced up. He was balanced between two rocks above the bubbling water, shifting his weight.
“Why don’t you find a hobby? Like painting or reading?”
“Or gardening?” he asked, throwing a wink over his shoulder. “This is my hobby. Besides, of course, lowering Rhysand’s opinion of me and avoiding my brothers.”
“Rhys doesn’t think badly of you.” She approached the bank just as Lucien finished crossing. From this distance, the stream was starting to look more like a river. A very fast moving river.
“The stream connects with some more down the mountain and helps feed the Sidra,” Lucien explained, as if trying to fill the silence.
Elain cautiously set her boot on a rock and found it didn’t immediately shift under her weight. As warm as the night was, she didn’t particularly feel like cooling off with a dip in the water.
“Step on this one,” Lucien said. “No. Your right foot.”
She obeyed his instructions and found both sides of the stream beyond her reach.
“Left foot on the red one. There you go. Good girl.”
She was so distracted by his choice of words that her right foot slipped, sending her forward. Lucien caught her by the elbows, one of his boots submerged in the water. She hadn’t even seen him move.
“Are you alright? Did you twist your ankle?” He guided her to the next rock.
“Is the water cold?” she blurted, then nearly smacked herself. He was still holding onto her, and that tingling in her spine grew to a tickle.
He let out a breathy laugh, not answering until she was safely on the other side. “A bit, but that’s alright.”
“Your sock must be wet.”
He laughed again and Elain found herself enjoying the sound. “Yes. My sock is wet. Is your ankle okay?”
She nodded, biting her lip. He was still touching her, a hand on each elbow, despite both of them being on dry ground. His hands were warm through the sleeves of her shirt.
As she looked up, one of those hands moved, cupping her face. His thumb smoothed over her bottom lip, drawing it out from between her teeth.
“Don’t do that,” he whispered, before seeming to catch himself. He let go of her as if she burned, instantly putting space between them. “I’m sorry. I—”
“It’s alright.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right. I’m going to get a fire started. There’s a blanket in my pack if you want to sit down.”
She nodded, blush high on her cheeks as she went for the pack he’d set on the bank. So that was why it looked so big. Inside the blanket, a bundle of cheese and meats were carefully wrapped. She set those aside to lay out the blanket on the sand ground, kicking away a few rocks.
By the time Lucien had returned, she was munching on a bit of cheese, watching him as he carefully stacked the firewood he gathered. Barely a moment later, the fire sprang to life, sparks flying in the air.
“Why get the firewood at all? Doesn’t your magic just… keep it burning?”
“I don’t want to be focused on the fire,” he answered simply, before sitting beside her, a good foot or two away. He leaned back on his hands, staring at the city below them.
“How often do you come here?” she asked, the silence burning a hole through her brow.
He shrugged. “Whenever I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“What are you thinking about now?”
He glanced at her, arching a brow as a little smile pulled at his full lips. “I don’t think you want to know.”
“Well now I’m actually curious.”
His smile bloomed into a grin. “Small talk not enough for you?”
“You’re my mate,” she said, the words like sandpaper on her tongue. His smile died. “I want to know more about you.”
“Thank you for reminding me.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“You know why.” Because you don’t want me. Because I am not enough for you.
The words didn’t come from her mind, but from a vision, of perhaps a future between the two of them. In a dark meadow, too much space between their bodies. She wasn’t sure who said it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know at all.
She blinked as the image faded.
Lucien was still looking at her. “Do you really want to know?”
“What?”
“What I’m thinking.”
She considered him for a moment and realized she didn’t want that vision for them at all. She’d changed the future once before, she was sure she could do it again.
“Yes.”
He rolled his head back to look into the sky. “I’m thinking that after everything I have lost, you are the gift I’d never once thought I’d be given and yet you’re still just out of reach.”
“I’m right here.”
“Are you?” He lowered his chin, face framed in moonlight.
Elain swallowed. “I am.”
“Then come here.”
Eyes widening, her body registered the words before she did. Going molten in all the right places, she found herself shifting so they were knee to knee.
Lucien said softly, “Lay back.”
She did and didn’t know why. A moment later, Lucien’s face was above her, his hand cradling her cheek. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
More than anything. But she said, “Yes.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as the ghost of his mouth brushed across her cheek. “Like that?” he asked, the words a hot rush across her skin.
“No.” More.
He pressed his lips to her jaw, tilting her head back slight. “That?”
“Please.”
Her eyes were still closed as his mouth finally met hers, softer than she’d expected. He kissed her lips once, twice, before nipping.
She gasped and he used that to his advantage. As his weight settled fully over her, he deepened the kiss, his tongue hot in her mouth. She welcomed it, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer, if such a thing were possible. His chest pressed into hers, his other hand resting on her hip as they kissed and kissed and kissed.
It was over before she wanted it to be.
He pulled back, lips bruised. “Have you ever… Are you…?”
“A virgin? No.” She laughed. “Though I’m not very experienced.”
“Do you want me to show you?”
The tingling at the base of her spine grew, as if in warning. She said, “Show me.”
He grinned and a moment later she found herself on her stomach, having been flipped faster than she could register. She laughed a little, pushing herself to her elbows as he pulled off her boots, then her pants.
“What about the socks?” she asked breathlessly.
“I can throw one in the water so we’re even,” he said as he pulled those off too.
Elain laughed again, for some reason not at all bothered by the fact that her ass was exposed to the moon and everyone else in the company of two.
Lucien pressed a kiss to her ankle, trailing up the back of her calf. She warmed at the feeling until he bit lightly at the curve of her ass.
She gasped, tempted to turn over to smack him, but before she could make the decision, he pulled her up by her hips, guiding her onto his lap where she could feel the press of his against her backside.
He ran his hands up her thighs as she leaned her head back onto his shoulder, content to let him touch. He lifted her shirt, guiding it over her head to toss it somewhere with the rest of her clothes. Then his hands met her breasts, squeezing gently. He twisted a nipple between his fingers, earning a sharp breath as the sensation shot to her core.
His chest rose and fell behind her with breath. “Are you already wet for me, my dear?”
She bit her lip, earning another harsh pinch to her nipple.
“What did I say about that?” he asked, nipping her ear.
“You said not to do it.”
“Good girl. You remembered.”
She blushed as one of his hands trailed down, gliding across the band of her underwear.
“Do you want me to touch you here?” he asked hotly.
“Yes.”
He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck as that hand dipped into her panties, trailing down through her core. He hummed at what he found waiting, brushing his thumb over her clit.
She let out a soft sigh, head lulling against his shoulder while he began careful circles, his other hand still working her breasts.
“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of you,” he said, guiding a finger inside of her. “How long I’ve craved you.”
She moaned while he pumped that finger in and out, curling slightly to touch that spot she wasn’t sure existed until now. As he added a second, she tucked her face into his neck, arching into his touch.
He worked her slowly, his thumb grinding against her clit. She felt release build in her faster than it ever did with her own hand, fueled by the rough calluses of his hand and the feeling of him hard behind her.
She came with a cry, convulsing around his fingers. He held her while she shook, working her through the throes of it until she was too sensitive to enjoy his touch. She pulled his hand away, but he guided it to her mouth.
“Open up. Taste yourself.”
Her lips parted around his fingers, taking in the salty flavor. Her tongue flattened under the pads, teeth scraping gently at his knuckles.
“Don’t you want some?” she asked as she pulled her head away, eyes heavy.
“I’d rather taste it from the source.”
Heat shot through her again, making her turn in his arms. His mouth met hers like it was made to be there, hands lifting her slightly so she could properly straddle his lap. She fumbled to undo the buttons of his shirt, dimly aware that she was one piece of clothing away from full nudity yet he hadn’t even taken off his wet sock.
Lucien helped her with a flick of his fingers, the shirt disintegrating from the seams with a small orange flame. Elain stared at his chest. “You didn’t burn yourself.”
He shook his head, leaning forward to kiss her neck.
“But what are you going to wear on the way back?”
“That is the last thing on my mind right now.”
“But—”
“Just touch me. Please.”
It was as close to begging as she thought she’d ever get him. She ran her hands over his chest, dusted with scars and freckles. He was skinnier than the Illyrians, though no less built. His torso was all slim muscle and carefully hidden strength.
Lucien lifted them suddenly, moving forward with a hand braced on her lower back as he lay her back down on the blanket. He glanced appreciatively down her body. “You have no idea how beautiful you are.”
She didn’t know why, but she blushed. She’d been doing a lot of that recently. Her skin was pink from where he’d squeezed and pinched her breasts, but he didn’t seem to care as he lowered his mouth to them, tongue smoothing over a nipple. She moaned softly, running her fingers through his hair while he sucked and toyed with her breasts.
He moved on when she began to squirm, lips dancing across her belly. Fingers hooked beneath the straps, he pulled her underwear off before guiding her legs open for him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee as he watched her, his single eye dark as coal.
“You don’t have to,” Elain said, uncomfortable being completely open like this. “I know that men don’t really like—”
“There is nothing I want more in this world than to taste your cunt and see you come from my mouth.”
She choked at the harsh words, more filthy, she hoped, than any of Nesta’s books.
“So let’s not pretend otherwise,” he purred and lowered his mouth.
The first touch of his tongue set her on fire. She moaned as he licked her clit, hands twisting in the blanket beneath her. He set an easy pace, sucking and drawing whimpers from her lips. She managed to release one hand from the blanket to put it in his hair, the red locks like silk between her fingers.
He growled, sending vibrations straight to her core as his hand slid up her thigh, parting her legs wider. He spread her folds, the next touch making her arch against the ground.
“So delicious,” he whispered, his thumb circling at her entrance while he sucked her clit.
She moaned as he pushed that thumb inside of her, his tongue moving in time with it. The sensations had her mind reeling, wondering if his cock was as big as it had felt beneath her.
She came with the image in her mind, fingers twisting in Lucien’s hair while wave after wave washed over her. He lapped it up greedily, drawing her slowly down from the high.
When he rose, Elain was delirious with pleasure. She grabbed the back of his neck, drawing him in to kiss her. He responded in kind and consumed her, hands sliding up and down her bare flesh. His hips lowered, grinding into her sensitive core.
“Elain,” he said. “My Tigerlily.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “What are you waiting for?”
“I— I don’t want to go any further.”
“What?” Her heart raced. He didn’t want her? It made sense. After making him wait so long, maybe he’d lost interest. Maybe—
“Because when we are joined like this,” he said, hips making a slow circle against hers that had fire stirring in her belly. “I don’t think we’ll be able to stop. And as tempting as it is, I don’t want to have you in the middle of the forest for the first time.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”
Her face must have looked like a tomato. “Well, I don’t really know what to say.”
“Say that…’’ He drew her hand from his shoulders, studying the lines of her fingers before threading them through his, and kissed the back of her palm. “Say that there is a future for us. No matter how far.”
She swallowed hard, looking into his eyes, one of brass and one of gold. They glowed like sunlight. It was hard to draw breath, her heart in her chest filling up the space her lungs were supposed to occupy. “There is. No matter how far.”
Elain has a lot on her shoulders as she prepares to host her first major event as a High Lady. Luckily, Lucien is there to help relieve some of her stress.
Read on AO3 | Tags: sex pollen, fluff, nsfw, Elain loves when Lucien loses control, because he so rarely does
This is part of the Cherry Pie: ACOTAR Kinktober Smut Extravaganza collection. Make sure to check out the rest of the collection and the other authors as they are posted each day this week!
The entire collection will be posted to AO3 and @tealnymph-writes by the end of the week.
*****
Feyre and Nesta always underestimated how difficult it was to pull off a truly spectacular party. Not that Elain could blame them, exactly. Settling down with a husband, manor, and staff had never been in their plans, but Elain had dreamed being a conductor, of orchestrating events so lavish, filled with musicians and painters and playwrights, of parties where everyone was so overcome with joy that they continued celebrating until the morning sun made its appearance and her guests tumbled into beds she had prepared in anticipation.
The food, the music, the dresses, none of it really mattered to Elain. What she waited for was at the very end, when her friends and family were sated and content and she could catch a glance of those smiles that Feyre reserved for Rhys, the way that Cassian would track Nesta with his eyes, or the glances that Mor would quietly exchange with Emerie. Those were the moments that made all of the planning and organizing and spectacle worth it. To know that because of her, the people she loved wanted for nothing.
The problem was, she was running late for Calanmai.
Elain watched the group around her laugh and smile, enjoying each others company before it was time for Azriel and Gwyn, and her, to leave. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to go with them.
She had come to the Mortal Lands with Azriel and Gwyn two days ago to help with a mission, her seer powers allowing her to see what others couldn’t. But now that she was here, spending time with Lucien’s Band of Exiles, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to go home to the Night Court. But was that really home to begin with?
She had begun to feel like more and more of an outsider, like the Night Court didn’t have a place for her. Or, maybe, she didn’t want a place there. Whichever it was, she knew she didn’t belong there. She loved her family, but it never quite felt like that was where she was meant to end up. She wasn’t like Feyre and Nesta, and she was slowly realizing that that was okay. Perhaps she could find a life elsewhere, somewhere that felt like home.
Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed the tall male sit next to her, angling his body so his attention was on her rather than those around them. She turned, unable to hide the sadness from her eyes when she met Lucien’s gaze.
“My lady, is there anything I can get you?” Lucien asked, his brow furrowing with concern that made her heart flutter. “You looked a little sad. Or lost, perhaps.”
She frowned, his words striking unexpectedly close to the mark. She was lost, wasn’t she?
“I suppose I am,” she murmured, not realizing she had said anything out loud until Lucien responded, his voice gentle, a softness in his tone she had grown to like.
“One is never truly lost, my lady,” He whispered, holding her gaze steadily. “They are only…misplaced. But they can always be found.”
She swallowed, unsure how to respond to the vulnerable sincerity in his tone, the slight tinge of sadness in his eyes. Is that what she looked like? She gave him a small smile, drifting into silence for while until she found the sudden urge to tell him something.
“Lucien, I’ve been thinking of leaving the Night Court,” she blurted, shocked by her own boldness.
“Oh,” he said simply, studying her. “Where do you plan to go?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Well…there is always a place for you here, if you wish,” he quietly responded, his eyes holding more meaning than his words could convey. “But you don’t need to decide today.”
“I…I’ll think about it,” she promised, turning silent again. They watched the group for a while, both lost in thought before she once again felt the urge to speak.
“Lucien?”
“Yes, my lady?”
“I don’t want to choose you just because I have nothing else,” she whispered, unsure why she was telling him this but knowing it needed to be said regardless. “I want to be happy and do something that matters. I want to have something to fight for. I don’t want to choose you just because that was the only option. I want to see the world and everything it has to offer, and when I choose you…I want to know that out of all those things, the only thing I wanted was you.”
She met his gaze again, scared she might find fear or indifference or perhaps nothing at all, but what she found instead was warmth. A bright, burning warmth that held promises of life and friendship and, underneath all of it, love.
Elain tiptoed toward the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible despite almost everyone in the house still being up. But Lucien might be asleep, and she would hate to wake him. After all, if the loud moans and other sounds coming from the side of the house with Vassa and Jurian were any indication, Lucien probably wasn’t sleeping that well. He could use any sleep he could manage; she wouldn’t be the one to ruin his rest.
She reached the entry to the kitchen, but just as she was about to push the door open, she heard a clatter from the other side. She rushed in, unsure what she would do if it was an intruder but worried all the same. When she took in the sight in front of her, she froze.
Lucien was standing at the island in the middle of the room, a large slice of apple pie in front of him, the fork he had been using on the floor next to him, a guilty expression on his face as he met her gaze.
She smiled timidly, pulling the robe she had thrown over her nightgown tighter as heat flooded her body. He let out a shocked laugh, the sound vibrating through her bones as she stared at his very bare torso, his rippling muscles distracting her in spite of herself. She always seemed to get flustered around him.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were in here,” she mumbled, shuffling awkwardly by the door. He quickly recovered himself, picking up his dropped fork and throwing it in the sink before grabbing the rest of the pie from the ice cooler.
“It’s okay, there’s plenty for both of us,” he held up the pie with a nervous grin. She giggled, slowly walking to the table rather than the island. He instantly followed, carrying the pie, a fresh set of plates and forks and his unfinished slice with him.
He served her a slice, then dug back into his own piece. “Trouble sleeping?” He asked as she dug into the pie.
She nodded, sighing happily when the flavorful dessert hit her taste buds. “Yes, but it’s fine,” she assured him, already diving in for a second bite. “This is amazing! Who made this?”
He chuckled, slowly chewing his own bite. She was already half finished with her slice and he had barely taken a few bites.
“My mother made it,” he explained, watching her devour her slice, sounds of delight escaping her with every bite. “Eris brought it today when he stopped by.”
“Mmmm, I need the recipe,” she gushed, shocked at herself when she realized she had finished and he still had half a slice. “It’s really good. Your mother must be an excellent baker.”
“She is,” he agreed with a smile. He slowly ate his pie while she sat quietly, not wanting to leave despite having finished her midnight snack. She felt oddly comfortable here, enjoying Lucien’s presence. The more time she spent with him, the more she liked him. He was fascinating, and he never treated her like a child. And it didn’t hurt that he was one of the most handsome males she had ever seen.
“If you’d like, I can tell Eris to bring my mother for a visit next time he comes,” Lucien finally said, breaking her out of the sudden fascination she had with the interesting cords of muscles on his shoulders.
“Oh, umm, that would be nice,” she smiled, blushing furiously. “I’d like that. I’d like to meet your mother.”
A smile teased his lips as he took another bite of pie. “I’ll write to Eris in the morning.”
She grinned, unable to stop herself from giving him her best smile. He was so thoughtful; it never failed to make her burst with happiness, even when she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
His head dipped, his fork extending toward the last bite of his pie. Before she could stop herself, words slipped from her mouth.
“Are you sure you want the last bite of that?” She blurted, her face growing warmer as his eyes shot to her. She feared she had crossed a line, but he suddenly burst into laughter, grabbing the pie pan and serving her another slice of pie while he watched her in amusement.
“Here, I don’t think either of us are getting much sleep tonight,” he teased, a scream of pleasure from above emphasizing his point. She laughed, grabbing her fork and digging in as he served himself a second slice, the two of them falling into an easy conversation as the night faded slowly into dawn.
“Mother, are you using me to make the shadowsinger jealous?” Lucien asked, trying not to snicker.
When he looked back down at Elain he found her face had paled — her lips were pressed in a flat line. The expression of someone who knew they’d slipped up.
Lucien rolled his eyes. “Did you believe I was laboring under the illusion you were not pursuing his affections, lady?”
Elain’s mouth opened and closed and she fumbled their steps briefly before Lucien steered them back on track. “It— How long have you known?”
He snorted. “Both of my eyes see just fine.”
Elain’s troubled expression softened into puzzlement. “But you never…”
He arched a single brow. “I’ve never caused a scene? I’ve never objected to another male pursuing my mate? I’ve never gone on a bloody rampage snarling about how our lives are woven together by fate itself and as a result I’m entitled to your heart over a brooding, emotionally unstable spymaster? Hm?”
And just a bit to make ya thirsty:
Lucien’s hands instinctively gripped her waist and he said in a rough voice, “I want to see how badly you want it.” He pulled her closer. “Ride my cock and show me, Lady.”
recently, I talked about how much I would have liked to have seen elain meet lucien as a human under different circumstances, here’s a drabble that was/is supposed to be a part of a bigger work (inspired by taylor’s enchanted cause literally what else do I get inspired by) that I have worked on like 4 months ago
Nesta pulled her aside before Elain could leave, grabbing her arm forcefully, and reminded her of something she’d been whispering into her ear for years now. Elain rolled her eyes, not bothering to reply anymore. Nesta could be too protective sometimes and she wasn’t aware how much it had started to bother Elain recently. She was twenty-two now, but she supposed she would always be a little girl to her older sister. It was endearing, but it was also annoying. “Have a nice time, Nesta”, she muttered, not daring to look her in the eyes, and wandered off. Nesta could be as intimidating as she was protective. She didn’t want to stick to her side the entire time and scare away good company, knowing how Nesta got at these types of events. She’d be watching her like a hawk the entire night anyway.
Elain allowed herself a glass of wine. She had thought about it the whole day – whether she should even try some of the drinks that would be offered. But she was here with her father and her sisters, what could possibly happen to her? Just for once she did not want to be the scared and shy little girl clinging to her sister’s skirts like a five-year-old. The wine was surprisingly sweet and fruity, and she licked her lips as she looked around the ball room. It was simply incredible, she had to admit. Elain had often been at balls and dances and any kind of social events, really, but never ever had she been at a location like this manor. It looked elegant, and there was nothing simplistic about the decorations that adorned the halls. Silvery candle stands in all sizes, curtains that seemed to have been hung up for this event and this event only. But it was the flowers especially that made Elain’s heart beat faster. Flowers in all colours hanging from the ceiling, decorating all entrances and exits, flowers on the ladies’ dresses that seemed almost alive as they were swirling through the rooms. Elain was careful to not betray her awe in case anyone might notice. This was a High Lord’s home after all.
Feyre was nowhere to be spotted. She was probably enjoying the fading sunlight on the outside and trying to memorise the sight to paint it in the morning. If she even decided to go to bed. Elain was more surprised to see Nesta looking daggers at a big bulky man towering over her. The smile on his face, Elain could see it from a distance, was lazy and provoking. As if he wanted to make her angry, show some emotion other than the coldness she usually reserved for strangers. Elain almost, almost, made her way over to her elder sister, but for some reason she halted. Because for a brief moment, she could’ve sworn a smile tugged at Nesta’s lips.
“Thank the Cauldron you on your own accord, I would’ve almost felt bad to have interrupted you when you looked so positively determined,” a voice startled her. Elain tried not to cringe as she turned to look at the man on her right. Male — not man. It was a male standing next to her, a fox mask concealing his face. She could still see the smile gracing his lower half was charming, which could not be said about the brutal scar she spied beneath the mask. It seemed to stretch across the entire right side of his face.
Elain’s breath caught. She did not know what to say, she’s never spoken to any of the fae before and it would be a lie to say she was not intimidated. All she could suddenly remember were the things Nesta had told her over the years. Elain blinked and tried to not look scared. But thinking about how displeased her Nesta would be seeing her talk to a fae, Elain could not help but blurt out, “My sister told me to stay away from males like you.” She blushed right after she said those words. She sounded like a child, and she wished, not for the first time in her life, that she could take those words back.
“And what would the world be like if we listened to what our siblings told us all the time? Terribly boring, wouldn’t it?”
Her eyes narrowed. A troublemaker. Of course it would be a troublemaker invading her peace and quiet on a night like this. He laughed at the sight of her in front of him. She must have looked ridiculous with that frown on her face. “Can you really find fault with me trying to ask the most beautiful being in these halls for a dance tonight?”
Elain looked him up and down, trying not to feel flattered at his word choice. Not most beautiful woman, but being. But dancing – she almost felt giddy at the prospect of dancing. How long had it been? Maybe two months. Too long anyhow.
But dancing with this male? She didn’t know whether he was joking. Didn’t know how long he might have been watching her before approaching her. Or why. “I didn’t realise you were asking me for a dance.”
She could feel it in her cheeks then, how she blushed at his next act when he stepped away and bowed extravagantly, excessively and yet respectfully as to not embarrass her in front of … well, everyone. He didn’t even think about it. For some reason it irritated her and she bristled, tried to imitate Nesta’s guarded and cold look her sister had perfected over the years. The male in front of her did not seem bothered at that. If anything, it seemed to amuse him.
“Would you do me the greatest honour of my life and share the next dance with me?” Elain hated how serious he sounded while giving her his most disarming smile. Hated how he intrigued her at the same time.
“And how long exactly would that life have been already?”
“Are you calling me old?”
“I’m not calling you anything. I’m simply curious.” She did not want to give in easily, though every muscle in her body craved to dance. He looked like an acceptable partner. He was taller than her, much taller, and reasonably muscled. Not like the male Nesta had been talking to – or not talking to earlier.
“Curiosity killed the cat, isn’t that what you humans like to say?” She could tell by the growing grin on her opponent’s face how he was enjoying their conversation, and she hated how flustered it made her. For a second, she hoped her own mask would conceal the redness on her cheeks, but she somehow doubted it.
“Well, good for you that you’re not a cat,” she said inspecting his fox mask closely. Its orange and red shades were lighter than the ones she could see reflected in his long hair. His whole demeanor – it seemed as if was the exact opposite of her. Easy-going, informal, relaxed.
She almost wished to see his face, just once. Which is why, that’s what she told herself afterwards, she gave in and nodded. “Fine.”
The handsome stranger simply laughed while taking her hand. She was surprised at how soft and warm his hand felt and could’ve sworn her heartbeat increased at that. “Good for me, indeed.”
A/N Ngl this turned into an Elucien one shot rather than just a Lucien one, but it still centers around him so I hope that’s okay I’ve had this idea of Elucien’s future in my head for a while now and I hope I was able to get my thoughts out properly. This is my first writing piece ever so please be gentle with it as I tried my very best. I hope you enjoy it☺️
Word count: 1500+
Elain was never one for dreams. Sure she had them, but they were shattered before they had the chance to become a reality. Whether that be because of her mother’s insistence that all she was good for was marriage and beauty, her father’s neglect after their fortune was lost, or her life as a human washed away with the water of the Cauldron, Elain’s dreams were always out of reach to the point where she stopped having them.
But, sitting there in the Spring Court before the High Lord meeting began, surrounded with the flowers she spent hours grueling over, her title as High Lady, and above all, her fox, her mate, her love sleeping soundly in her lap, Elain couldn’t help but think that her dreams had just begun.
