Work Text:
Elain
Elain winced as she pried her shoe out of the late spring mud. The sky was a bland blue, muted as most things in the mortal lands now seemed muted when compared to Prythian. Still, Elain looked for the shoots of green peeking up through the ground, the glimpses of beauty she’d once found it so easy to focus on despite her family’s intermittently dismal existence. She shook out her shoulders and reminded herself to reset her expectations. Just because her surroundings lacked the vivid palette of the Night court, did not mean there was no loveliness to be found in the land of her birth.
She’d been cautiously optimistic, two weeks ago, when Rhys and Feyre had summoned her to the study of their River Estate. She’d delicately perched on the edge of a sumptuous leather sofa as they’d laid out a request to assist Lucien and their allies in the mortal lands. While it had seemed suspiciously well planned out, she wanted to prove her worth, and wanted to help her sister. She had pleaded to be utilized in some substantial way, on more than one occasion in fact. It felt ungrateful to not accept enthusiastically. It had nothing to do with the bond they assured her, she was free to make her own choices.
But when she’d said goodbye to her family in the foyer, she couldn’t help but feel as if she was being sent away because some part of her had been found lacking. Despite its thousands of residents, apparently the Night Court did not require a third Archeron sister’s assistance. It was completely irrational to feel hurt by getting what she wanted. And yet a small part of her still felt that ache of feeling unneeded.
She continued on the path until her shoe once again sank deeply into the muck. She gave an aggravated sigh, prying it loose and wiping it on a patch of grass. She should have worn her boots and she had planned to wear her boots until Lucien had offered a mild suggestion about the condition of the road, “You might want to wear boots, my lady.” She’d rolled her eyes with her back turned and shoved on her normal shoes pointedly. She didn’t know what it was about Lucien Vanserra that got under her skin. Well that was a lie. He was aggravatingly charming. And if she hadn’t been brutally abducted, drowned alive and engaged to someone else the day she learned they were supposedly each other's soulmates; maybe she would feel less like covering her ears and running away whenever he was in the room.
Upon arriving at the so-called “band of exiles” manor house, she’d almost immediately realized that the presence of Vassa and Jurian made it impossible to ignore Lucien. Truthfully she would never have been able to uphold her aloofness once they were sharing a roof every day. Overt rudeness was an affront to her core sense of self. They'd talked more in the past week and a half than in the previous three years. She was perfectly, properly pleasant and she’d even found herself smiling a few times at his stories at dinner. It was only polite after all, she was a guest.
Surveying the absolute mud pit of a road before her Elain considered her options. Running a simple errand in the nearby village was turning into quite the ordeal. She headed into the trees onto a faint but much dryer footpath protected from the rain and wagon wheels.
She was being a tad bit stubborn about going to the village by herself. But she knew that valuable information could always be gathered in the human markets and she didn’t want to wait, she wanted to be useful!
Vassa’s curse prevented daytime outings and while she quite enjoyed Jurian, she suspected he would be a nightmare about errands. Judging by his sumptuous wardrobe alone, Lucien would most likely be a delightful shopping companion, so she clearly had to avoid that option. Besides, how was she supposed to build ties with the humans if she couldn’t even buy flour from them without help?
She paused at a fork in the path and nibbled on her lip in thought. She’d been to Thornsbrooke a few times growing up and she thought she remembered the shortcut. Her family had always teased her that she was too distracted by daydreaming and daisies to remember tiny practical details like cardinal directions.
Determinedly she chose the path that headed towards a break in the trees. She was met by the sound of childish giggles as she entered a small clearing. Two human girls who couldn’t have been older than eight or nine sat making daisy chains on the banks of a rushing creek. Elain smiled at their bent heads covered in golden braids, thinking of the small fleeting moments of peace from their past that her sisters seemed to forget but she treasured.
Children this young meant she must be close to town, Elain felt relieved to be almost out of the mud. “Good Morning!,” she called out brightly, not wanting to startle them from their play. “What lovely flower crowns you’ve made! Would you mind telling me if I’m on the right path to Thornsbrooke village?”
The happy laughter ceased immediately as their eyes grew round. Elain came a few steps closer, “I used to live around here but I got a bit turned around trying to avoid the awful mud on the main road.”
When the little girl's blood-curdling screaming began, Elain twisted quickly around expecting to see nothing less fearsome than an Attor readying to attack. Nothing stood behind her but the peaceful glen she had just walked through. The girl's screams became louder and as she turned back in puzzlement they began screaming for help. She stepped forward again, “Whatever is the matter?” she tried to be heard over their shrieking. The smallest of the girls raised an accusing arm and screamed “FAERY.”
She was pointing at Elain. For a second Elain could only blink, her mind emptying in the chilling realization that she was the monster they feared. She attempted to make her feet move to provide reassurance but as she raised her hand in a soothing gesture the girl's screams for help reached a fever pitch. Clearly she could only make it worse.
“I’ll just leave,” she whispered, more to herself than the weeping girls who clung to each other in terror. She turned back to the trees but immediately found her way blocked by several humans clutching everything from swords to farming tools.
“Not so fast you demon,” hissed the large bearded man directly in front of her clutching a pitchfork of all things. As if Elain were a monster in the storybooks Nesta used to sneak under the covers as children. A frantic man and a woman shot around her, whisking the sobbing little girls into their arms and running toward safety.
“I mean no harm,” Elain said, raising her palms in surrender and backing away. “This is just a misunderstanding. I’m staying with Queen Vassa. She and General Jurian will vouch for me…”
A pale gangly boy cleared his throat nervously, “If she truly is with General Jurian…”
“I don’t care for the authority of any who would consort with fae vermin,” an older man wielding a bow shouted. “Listen to nothing she says, fae will tell demon lies with the faces of angels.”
Elain moved away faster looking for escape, her ankle caught in a hole on the ground as she scanned the gathering crowd. Her knee painfully hit the ground before she righted herself backing towards the rushing stream. She scanned the faces of what was quickly becoming a mob. None of these faces were familiar from the manor or Jurian’s border drills. Her eyes set on a younger man with black curly hair and she started in recognition to see one of Greysen’s old friends.
“Peter Henley? You know me. I’m Elain Archeron. We danced together at Lady Rockford’s ball…”
“The Elain I knew is dead.” Peter cut her off mercilessly. “Stolen and murdered by the fae.”
“I’m right here. You can see me.” Elain protested, a spark of anger breaking through her rising fear. She had survived.
“I see nothing but fae filth.”
She backed further away, they moved closer and her feet splashed into the freezing creek water, immediately soaking through her worthless shoes. She lifted her hands protectively and tried to keep the terror out of her voice, “I will go back the way I came, this does not have to go any further…”
“Watch her hands she may set a curse on us!”
“You should have thought about that before you tried to steal innocent children!,” screamed a female voice.
Elain turned her head to refute the accusation, at the same moment somewhere in the crowd someone sent a rock hurtling in her direction. As the rock struck her cheek and Elain’s leg was swept out from under her into the creek; for the very first time she grabbed onto that golden string that lay dormant within her, and pulled for her life.
Lucien
“You are driving me insane,” muttered Jurian, as Lucien bumped the long wooden dining table for perhaps the twentieth time in two hours.
Lucien stilled his knee, “I thought you were already insane?”
“I got better, you are causing a relapse.”
“Gentlemen are we boring you?” Lord Nolan’s steely gaze impaled them from his place at the end of the table with the other human nobles.
“My apologies, the General had something in his throat.” Lucien said as he pointedly poured a glass of water for his friend, who openly rolled his eyes. A beloved human hero, Jurian could get away with being as rude as he wanted, as a fae and a Night Court emissary, Lucien walked a much thinner line.
A line he’d found it more difficult to thread since the moment a tiny whirl of jasmine and curls had landed in the mortal lands exactly 11 days and 7 hours ago.
He’d taken one look at her velvety brown eyes and felt the bond slam into his chest like a ton of bricks. They’d only had a day’s notice of Elain’s imminent arrival to the manor house. A fact that had embarrassed her when she had realized her family’s faux pas. The self-styled exiles had just enough time to cobble together some appropriate bedding for her room and for Lucien to utterly lose his mind.
Against Lucien’s wishes, Vassa had loyally vowed to hate Elain Archeron for all she had “put Lucien through.” Vassa’s vow was predictably negated when she had fallen under Elain’s spell in less than six hours and she had betrayed no sense of irony when she chastised Lucien for “keeping Elain away from her.” Now the two were as thick as thieves, giggling and whispering together in corners. Elain made everything in the ramshackle manor seem brighter. Lucien couldn’t help but smile at how quickly Elain had slipped past the fiery queen’s defenses. He’d walked in on them having an actual pillow fight the other night, he’d wisely kept his mouth shut about it.
What did annoy him was how much she and bloody Jurian got along. Vassa accused him of jealousy but really it was a little unfair that Elain didn’t hold a grudge against the man who’d spilled the news of her fae transformation to her then fiancé in a truly traumatic fashion. She thought he was funny, and he loved scandalizing her with salacious stories.
Lucien had plenty of salacious stories he’d love to scandalize Elain with, if only being around his mate didn’t turn him into a nervous wreck and if only being around Lucien didn’t turn Elain into a watchful fawn, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.
Yet another interminably long meeting over the woes of the human border finally concluded, Lucien followed Jurian outside, soaking in the weak sunshine and stretching his long legs as he descended the stone steps. A group of young human soldiers straightened at their approach, a smaller group of fae males recruited from the Spring Court stood slightly apart. Lucien allowed himself a small frown at the continued self-segregation. The work of diplomacy was never done.
Jurian clapped him on the shoulder, “I can take over the border patrol from here if you want to go and check on her, Thornsbrooke is only a few minutes from here on horseback.”
Every single one of Lucien’s instincts had fought against Elain going to the human village alone today. She’d been so insistent, and yet the mood in some of the villages could be tense these days. But it was Elain, and everyone liked Elain, surely he was overreacting.
“You know she doesn’t want that, especially from me.”
“Truth be told, I'm slightly concerned, myself.” Jurian mused as he attended the saddle on his horse. He nodded to a pair of sandy haired brothers, “Ellis and Gryff said the talk at the pub last night was rather...passionate. Those two children who died of fever a few weeks ago, apparently, a few hotheads have been blaming fae magic.”
Lucien’s eyes instantly sharpened. If Jurian was worried...“Why didn’t you say so this morning when she told us her plans? She listens to you.”
“I didn’t know about it until right before the meeting. I'm sure it’s just talk. But it wouldn’t hurt to swing by the village, make sure they aren’t refusing to serve her at the market. Best to nip that behavior in the bud.”
Lucien made up his mind and made a move towards his own horse. He’d found it best to travel like a human when working with them, and it brought back fond memories of Spring. He was nearing his mount when he stumbled and dropped to a knee, a searing urgent wrench in his ribs stealing his breath. He’d never felt it before but he instantly knew who was summoning him, “Elain.” he gasped.
He jumped to his feet and whirled to Jurian and yelled in a voice full of command, “She’s in danger. Bring the men behind me on the road to Thornsbrooke. Now.” Jurian only had time to nod wide-eyed as the men rushed toward their horses before Lucien disappeared into a winnow.
The world righted itself as he landed in chaos. A crowd of screaming villagers stood in front of the creek. He followed the bond for a few steps before he was filled with the horrifying vision of Elain in the water, blood trickling down her face and her outreached hands as she pleaded for the mob to listen.
Later on Lucien would scarcely remember the next few seconds. He’d exploded in radiating, righteous fury, a blinding light erupted from his hands and the humans screamed as the shockwave hit them, knocking them to the ground where they lay trembling in fear.
He ran through the cowering crowd as he waded into the creek and splashed to a stop in front of Elain. She was soaked through, and it brought back too many horrifying memories of Hybern. “Where are you hurt,” he asked urgently, running his eyes over her body looking for any wounds that could be fatal. He gently touched her face, “Did you hit it going down?”
She shook her head, trying to speak but shaking too much to form words. “Someone, someone threw a rock…”
In that moment only decades of practice in honing his control kept him from killing someone.
He heard a sound and whirled around to find that one of the villagers was back on their feet and attempting to aim a bow. He incinerated it with a flick of his hand, and sent a roaring swath of flame around their feet for good measure, cutting them off from coming any closer. The humans got the hint and ran screaming toward the woods, only to be cut off again by the pounding of hooves. Jurian and his men had arrived and circled the group within seconds.
“Take their weapons and dispose of them.” Jurian ordered the men, who quickly disarmed the rather cowed villagers. He turned his head in their direction and shouted, “We’ve got them, Take care of her!”
Lucien swiftly lifted Elain into his arms, he half expected her to protest but she simply looped her trembling arms around his neck which was frankly more concerning. “I’ve got you,” he whispered.
They winnowed onto the steps of the manor and he elbowed his way through the front door into the sunny kitchen.
He sat Elain carefully on the counter next to the sink as he quickly gathered supplies and began to assess her wounds. He examined the cut on her face and felt the anger creep up again. It could have so easily permanently damaged her eye. He willed his voice to remain calm, “This is fairly shallow, thankfully. I'm going to go ahead and heal it so it won’t scar.” Elain nodded absently as he concentrated and her skin slowly began to smooth over.
He’d been around enough battles to recognize shock when he saw it. He rummaged for a glass in the cupboard with one hand and poured a finger's worth of whiskey.
“Drink this.”
He supported her still shaking hands as she raised the glass to her lips and downed the dark liquor without reacting.
He set down the glass and took her hands in his, they were ice cold. He flipped them over and winced at her torn skin.
“I’d heal this myself but I’m running a little low on magic at the moment.” Whatever he’d done at the creek had expelled a huge amount of energy. “I need to clean the gravel out before your wounds start to close so it will heal properly.”
Another small nod. Her usually warm eyes were distant, still seeing nothing.
He took up the bottle and poured another shot of whiskey.
“I don’t think I can drink another one,” her soft voice floated up through the silence.
He arched an eyebrow at her, “This one’s for me, I’m a wreck.”
Her lips twitched in a tiny smile. He smiled back and renewed cleaning her hands and knees, trying to be as gentle as possible.
“You must think I’m a complete fool. I came here because I wanted to help and now look at me.” Elain gestured down at her bloody, sodden gown.
“No part of me thinks that you are a fool, my lady.”
“It’s just that, no one has ever been…afraid of me before. It never occurred to me that those children…” she trailed off. “A child has never been scared of me.”
Lucien remembered the first time a child had run screaming away from him in the Spring court after Aramantha had savaged his face. The memory still stung.
“Please don’t tell Feyre and Rhys, They’ll make me go back.”
Lucien hesitated, “Do you want to be here?”
“Yes! I want to do something. I think I can help here or with Spring. I know I can help!” Her lovely face twisted into a grimace, “All evidence to the contrary.”
“I’ll say nothing then, but if something larger were to happen Elain I’d have to…”
“I understand it is your job after all... It’s just that..It felt like they were sending me here to placate me because I'm useless by Night Court standards and if they find out I couldn’t even handle an errand…”
Lucien gently dabbed a healing salve on her wounds. “I’m sure they don’t think you’re useless.” The adrenaline of Elain’s ordeal had kicked in, and she was speaking quickly and openly, more so than she ever had with him before. Part of him felt almost guilty for hanging on her every word but he couldn’t help but want to know her more.
She winced as he finished cleaning a deep cut on her leg. “They don’t mean it unkindly. I’m just very different from them. I thought maybe here, maybe the kind of person I am could be of more use.” She took a quick breath, “Maybe I could do the kind of work that you do? Be an emissary, or courtier?”
Lucien felt a small ember of warmth bloom in his chest, he got the feeling that it had taken an exceptional amount of bravery for Elain to admit that to his face.
He put the healing supplies to the side and regarded her fully, “I think you have the makings of an exceptional courtier, for Night or any court”
She reddened slightly, “Are you just saying that…because of what connects us?”
“No I am not. But I do need to apologize to you about today.”
She frowned, “Apologize? I’m the one who stumbled into a mob while grocery shopping”
“A mob you were not prepared for, which was my job as emissary. I shouldn’t have let you go to that particular village alone today.”
Elain instantly bristled, visions of domineering mates surely dancing in her head, “LET me!?”
He held up a pacifying hand, “Do you really want to learn to be an emissary?”
She crossed her arms, and looked so reminiscent of Feyre for a moment he almost laughed. “Yes,” she conceded grudgingly.
“Alright then, if we’re going to be a team…work towards diplomacy in these lands together, then I need to be able to be honest with you and you need to be able to be honest with me. The situation today was not safe, and if Jurian or Vassa had asked about it I would have told them the truth, but I didn’t tell you the truth. Because I didn’t want you to be angry at me or disappointed, because I wanted you to like it here…and I wanted you to like me. But telling you what you want to hear because I’m afraid isn’t respect Elain, and you deserve that.”
He stepped closer to where she still sat on the counter and stared her down.
“Also in addition to the diplomacy lessons we’re starting self-defense.”
“I want nothing to do with any of that,” Elain protested.
“Tough shit.”
A tiny laugh burst out of her and he smiled before continuing, “You and I want to work to end war in these lands. Peace for the coming generations. For Nyx. For all children. Even screaming human ones. But that doesn’t mean everyone is going to play nice on the way there. I do not seek out bloodshed, I’ll talk my way out when I can but if I can’t I want to be able to live to fight for a better world the next day. You’ve done what had to be done before for the sake of others. I expect you to have the same care for yourself. Do we have a deal?”
She narrowed her lovely brown eyes slightly at him and he had to laugh. “Apologies, my lady, Do we have a metaphorical, non-magically binding deal?”
A slow grin bloomed on Elain’s face as she stuck out her swiftly healing hand and allowed Lucien to clasp it inside of his own. “Deal.”