#im not gonna add to luciens misery

[separatist-apologist]

Could you do one where Lucien finds out about what happened on solstice but he and Elian isn’t speaking to him yet? I’m curious to see your take!

Look. I absolutely CANNOT help myself. If I had written that scene (and I am free, SJM), it would have gone down a little like this.

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She doesn’t want him.

Azriel’s words rang through Lucien’s head, over and over on a constant loop, one he didn’t think he’d ever get out. He hadn’t wantedto overhear that whole conversation and, in doing so, was reminded why he never came to this fucking city to start with. He scrubbed a hand down his face, slung his bag over his shoulder, and slipped from his room. Feyre would be disappointed he left without saying goodbye but no one else would miss him. He could always make his excuses in a letter when he was far from Velaris.

I’d defeat him easily.

Lucien flinched beneath the weight of such casual violence. Azriel would love Autumn Court, if that was his first thought when it came to a blood duel. Lucien had no intention of calling one, not for Elain. He barely knew her and yet Lucien didn’t think she’d find the whole, bloody mess endearing.

He certainly had no intention of dying over a female that seemed to loathe his existence. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing Azriel’s voice to remove itself.

He doesn’t deserve her.

What would Lucien know about that, he thought miserably, his feet touching the first-floor landing. It wasn’t like he’d asked for her. If he’d it his way, the cauldron would given Elain to Azriel and the spymaster could spend eternity bound to a female that wanted nothing to do with their kind. He might have found it funny, the notion that Azriel thought she’d fall into his arms when Elain had made it abundantly clear she hated the mating bond.

Maybe he’d have a shot, then. Lucien stepped past the drawing room they’d exchanged gifts in when he caught a flash of that honey-colored hair all the Archeron’s shared. Feyre was up. Well fuck. He’d never be forgiven if he snuck right past her. He sighed and turned.

“Knock, knock,” he said before looking in. “Feyre, I thought I’d…” His words died in his throat when Elain looked back, her hands wrapped around her throat. “Never mind.” He wasn’t touching the red eyes and blotchy skin of the softly crying Elain with a ten-foot pole. He turned on his heel when something physically stopped him.

The fucking mating bond snarled in his chest, a physical beast that demanded he care for his mate. Fuck me, he thought furiously, keeping himself exactly where he was. He turned again, wary of the female that had caused so much drama. He wondered if she knew. Elain’s hands were still wrapped around her neck as a set of fresh tears slid down her cheeks.

“Are you alright?” He asked, every inch of him rebelling at the thought of comforting her through the rejection of another male.

Elain’s whole body seemed to tremble while Lucien warred with the bond, demanding it let him leave.

She doesn’t want him.

Lucien sighed and offered her a mocking bow while even the mating bond conceded. He turned for the third time, reshouldering his bag, and stepped out of the drawing room. Ten steps and he’d be at the door.

“Wait!” She called. Lucien’s whole body went taut as he closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the sky.

Have I displeased you? He silently asked the mother, walking back to the drawing room. He knew she could tell he did not want to be there, that he’d been trying to make his escape judging by the expression on her face. Was she planning to torture him a little, on her way out?

“Can you help me?” She asked, removing her hands from her throat. A red rosebud hung from her pale throat on a silver chain, and it was clear she’d been trying to remove it when he walked in on her.

Lucien dropped his bag to the floor and walked to her, her scent a punch to the gut. Honey and jasmine and something warm, like a breeze over a sunlit sky. All of that was mingled with fear and the better part of him wanted to tell her no and demand she tell him why she was so scared. He didn’t. What good was upsetting an already crying female?

She swept thick, honey-colored curls over one shoulder and it was Lucien’s turn to tremble, his stomach bottoming out. Had he ever touched her? He couldn’t remember a time. He reached for the tiny clasp, his fingers brushing over the nape of her neck. He swallowed hard as the chain was freed, sliding away into her waiting hands.

“Thank you,” she murmured as Lucien immediately put distance between them. His entire body was too aware of her and though he was angry, he didn’t know that he could stop himself from touching her again if he remained close. He wanted to guard her, to put his body in front of hers and snap and snarl until every male in Prythian was aware that she was his mate.

He reached for his bag. “Are you leaving?” She asked again and it occurred to Lucien she had asked him two questions and he had said nothing in response. He flexed his jaw, his back turned to her, and slid the strap of the bag back over his shoulder.

“I am,” he replied carefully. Elain wiped her cheeks with the palm of her hand and Lucien thought she was still so heartbreakingly beautiful, despite her hurt. Elain nodded, looking down at her feet and he wondered if he ought to just say goodbye.

“Will you be back?” She asked, her words nearly a whisper.

“Would you like me to return?” He asked, emphasizing her part heavily. Their eyes met again and Elain hesitated.

No.

He turned then, his anger cascading over him, intending to leave her in the drawing room. She didn’t owe him anything but neither did he. At least he was trying. If she didn’t want him around, he didn’t need to come any more than was necessary and he certainly didn’t need to see her.

“Lucien!” Elain breathed from behind him. He stopped again, cursing himself and the tether that bound them. “Lucien I didn’t…I uh…”

“I get it,” he said, his words clipped, turning to face her again. He shoved down his instincts demanding he treat her with care. Maybe someone should tell her to get fucked, even once instead of the constant handholding she was subjected to. “I’m the wrong male. That’s fine, Elain. I don’t want to be in your way.”

His hand reached for the doorknob when she surged forward, her brown eyes still sparkling with tears. “What does that mean?” She demanded.

He laughed dryly. “I guess you didn’t hear the little reprimand the High Lord gave Azriel regarding you?”

Her face paled.

“Don’t let me get in the way of true love,” he commented sarcastically. “I wish you and the bat nothing but the best.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not in love with him,” she half-whispers.

“You understand that’s worse, right?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. She looked him up and down.

“I don’t belong to you,” she began but Lucien rolled his eyes.

“When did I ever say you did?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. “You’ve made a lot of assumptions about someone you don’t even know.”

“Would you even be here if it weren’t for this?” Elain asked in return, one finger gesturing between their bodies.

“Would Feyre?” He snapped back. Elain hesitated and Lucien could see she hadn’t considered that. Something sparked in her gaze and Lucien waited to see if she was going to soften.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“Great,” Lucien replied, yanking on the door handle. “I don’t owe you shit, either.”

He stepped into the cold, strangely pleased when she followed him out.

“What does that mean?” She asked, the door snapping behind her. She immediately wrapped her arms around her body and, cursing himself, Lucien began unbuttoning his jacket.

“Why do you think I ought to stand here trying when you don’t believe you owe me anything?” He demanded even as he handed her the emerald-colored jacket. She snatched it out of his hands and threw it to the ground like a petulant child.

“You wanted this—”

“The hell I did!” He interrupted. “Do you imagine I am having a good time, watching you desperately try to avoid me? Because let me assure you, this is not my idea of fun.”

“Then why do you keep coming around?!”

“Because you haven’t rejected the bond!” He replied, letting some of his desperation leech into his words. “And until you do, I’ll keep coming to Solstice and waiting, my entire life hinging on a choice you seem duty bound to ignore. Have you ever considered, for even a moment of your now immortal life, that you do owe me something?”

“I don’t owe you shit,” she whispered in response, all rebellion. Lucien couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his throat, causing her to jump. Of all the things he might have imagined, her repeating his own words back to him was not one of them. He shook his head, meaning to turn and winnow away but Elain was watching him and he thought her lips curved upwards just enough to seem as though she were suppressing a smile.

Lucien offered her the same mocking bow he’d once given her sister, bending deeply at the waist, arms thrown out, so she knew it was not courtly in the slightest.

“Enjoy your night, Elain.”

“Lucien!” She snapped, very clearly exasperated. He shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold, which he barely felt. He took a step between them, hooking the lip of his jacket on his boot and tossing it into the air where he caught it and draped it over his arm.

“What?”

Her eyes glanced back at his jacket, arms tightening around her body and for the second time that night, Lucien handed her the jacket. She didn’t budge and he sighed.

“Take the damn jacket, Elain.” “You’re rude,” she accused, snatching it out of his grip. And though Lucien was irritated with her, some of his anger washed away at the sight of her buttoning herself into his jacket.

“Yeah? Well you’re spoiled.”

Real mature.

She paused and then she smiled, as if he’d told her she was beautiful. “No one has ever said that to me before.”

“You’ll forgive me if I’m all out of sonnets.”

She laughed that time. “You’re so mean.”

Lucien hesitated. Did she like it? He took a step towards her and Elain, to her credit, held her ground. All traces of tears were gone, replaced by the open rebellion staring him in the face.

“You like it,” he accused. Elain didn’t deny it. Instead she took the tiniest step towards him, so close Lucien could touch her face. He reached between them, taking a fat curl between his fingers, knuckles brushing over her cheek.

“I’m not a doll,” she murmured, eyes wide as she held her ground. “I can handle it.”

Of that, Lucien didn’t doubt. He knew she felt his agreement, shimmering down their shared connection.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted me to stick around.” “Good thing you know better,” she shot back, all teasing. Lucien, unable to resist testing his luck, dropped his hand and made to turn.

She grabbed his hand and his blood sang at the contact, the instinct to grab her and take her away from this place nearly overwhelming.

“Stay,” she breathed. “Get some sleep…you look terrible.”

He smiled, looking down at her hand clasping his own. “At least we share that commonality.”

Her mouth dropped open, eyes sparkling. “How very cruel of you. Will I see you in the morning?”

“If you’re lucky,” he replied, smirking. All his confidence died the moment she brought his hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“If you’re lucky, you mean,” she replied, letting go. Elain turned, flouncing back into the house without so much as a glance backwards while Lucien stood beneath the fae lights flickering on Feyre’s porch, hand burning. He tried to figure out what had happened and how they’d gone from crying and yelling to…insults and a kiss.

Still, he did as she asked and came back into the house and walked back to his room…where Feyre waited, a smile playing on her lips.

“Good night?” She asked him, making it plain she’d heard at least part of what went down between him and Elain.

“Shut up,” he replied.

#elucien #elucien prompt #elucien fanfic #elain x lucien #lucien x elain #im not gonna add to luciens misery #its happy endings or NOTHING #also mean elain is my favorite thing #still no smut #i think maybe the next one is smutty? #dont be afraid to send me your smutty prompts #i will answer them in the order they are recieved