#yeah yeah lucien youre so evil tell us again about all the colors in elains eyes again?

[separatist-apologist]

Dressing For Revenge

I don't start shit but I can tell you how it ends. Don't get sad-get even.

Summary: When the end of the war with Hybern finds Lucien unexpectedly crowned High Lord, he realizes everyone he's ever cared about has been lying to him.

The new High Lord of Day Court vows revenge.

Elain Archeron is determined to see him get it

Evil Elucien AU

Read More: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | AO3

Married.

Mated was the important thing, but marriage was the condition to the entire affair. His little, once human wife demanded he marry her like a human male might. Lucien would have told her no, but Elain was clever. She’d asked while unfastening his pants, and had punctuated her question with the wet glide of her tongue until there was only one answer.

Yes. Anything you want. Yes. 

Though Lucien’s ceremony did serve one purpose, beyond pleasing the female so willing to get on her knees—rumor told him Rhysand was irate. Uninvited, which meant he couldn’t spin his little lies and play his little games, Lucien was free to hold court. To tell his own stories, embellished as they were. 

He knew just enough to be a thorn in Rhys’s side. Just enough to alarm the other four courts, who might wonder why Rhys was hoarding Cauldron-made females and trying (with some success) to marry them to his closest officers. Lucien had been delighted, telling Tarquin and Kallias the harrowing tale of how Elain had managed to escape while she stood wide-eyed and nervous at his side. 

“They’ll drag her back if they ever manage to get their hands on her,” Lucien added, sliding a possessive hand over Elain’s waist. She stepped closer, as if she needed his protection.

“If you see me there, know I did not want it,” she added, his theatrical little mate. Tarquin and Kallias exchanged a look, and Lucien wished he knew what they were thinking. If they believed any of it.

“Rhysand has requested a visit,” Kallias finally told Lucien, learning over the intimate table of food Elain had set up. “To discuss this, I assume.”

“He says you’ve kidnapped his High Lady’s sister,” Tarquin added, looking Elain over with his sharp gaze. Lucien couldn’t help but recline back in his chair so Elain could speak.

“I came of my own free will,” she insisted, unaware of how that simple sentence filled his cock with blood. She was going to come of her own free will later that evening when he put his face back between her legs. The wedding was tomorrow, and Lucien was tempted to say fuck it to his promise not to fuck her and do exactly that. 

He tempered his lust before Tarquin or Kallias were made aware.  Instead, Lucien sent Elain out with Cressida and Viviane to work a little magic—the sort that told the nobility of Prythian that his mate was, if nothing else, wild with lust. Rhysand and Feyre couldn’t be kept out of the other courts forever, and all Lucien truly had going for him were centuries of minding his own business. 

“I only want peace.” It was an endless refrain, the words falling easily from his lips each time someone suggested his marriage was merely a political ploy. Surely it could be both–he could be winding up Rhys and he could want her. 

Though, it was mainly a political ploy. The first move on his chess board. Azriel’s illegal trip into his court—and the result of his ruined shadows—were merely rival courts who didn’t trust each other. Lucien had a right to his mate, especially if she’d come of her own free will. 

Another male from another court trying to take her was a death sentence.

“He should be grateful he kept his life,” Thesan opined over a private luncheon. Lucien was all too happy to soak up the praise, to be considered merciful. As if he weren’t baiting Rhys into a vicious, violent response. 

It was Tamlin who Lucien was most interested in seeing. Spared an invasion by Lucien’s brother taking the throne, Tamlin fell into brutal moods seemingly at a whim. A diplomat in Tarquin’s court had informed Lucien that both Autumn and Summer kept the borderlands under control when Tamlin was tired of ruling and turned to the wild as a beast. 

Eris, it seemed, would eventually march into Spring and drag Tamlin out, depositing him back on the throne with a warning that next time he might not be so generous. Lucien might have laughed—if Eris kept Tamlin alive, it was only because it served his larger interests. Not one of them did anything out of goodness. 

Only greed. He, at least, could admit the sort of creature he was. 

Tamlin looked rough. He met Lucien in the Solarium, the golden sun filtering through the rounded dome crowning him High Lord. Nothing else about Tamlin’s appearance did, though. His once mighty friend had clearly seen better days. Lucien went to him, sandals clipping over the marble, to clap Tamlin on his shoulder. 

“You look well,” Tamlin said with a wan smile. Lucien could not repay the compliment without betraying himself for a liar. 

“I’m glad you made it,” Lucien said instead, leading Tamlin towards the grand hall. Let the other High Lords see that Tamlin had come, too. Everyone but Rhysand, who was too insane to be among polite company. Elain was doing a perfect job of smiling with wide-eyed sweetness as she recounted her hasty escape. 

Her fear she might be locked back up, should she stop being so vigilant. 

“Married, huh?” Tamlin asked, trying—and failing—to inject humor into his tone. “Never thought I’d see the day you settled down.”

Lucien kept the frost from his voice. Tamlin met him on the single worst day of his life. “I feel quite fortunate.”

“I’m sure. Stealing your bride right out from Rhysand’s nose. How I wish I could have helped.”

Their eyes met. Lucien said nothing, though he nodded. He tried to block that whole thing out. He and Tamlin weren’t friends, and they both knew why. He’d wanted to protect Feyre and, in the end, had thought the best way to do so was to follow her out of Spring. 

If he examined his actions too closely, he might fall apart. So Lucien shoved it all down deep, content to revel in his hatred. He certainly felt victorious, walking into that room. He was High Lord, wasn’t he? And his mate, who looked like the sweetest trophy, perched on the throne he'd built just at his side. She smiled when he entered, rising to greet him. The picture of a good, well-bred female. 

“They’ll kill you for this,” Tamlin offered before slipping into the crowd. It wasn’t lost on Lucien that Tamlin was the only one who came without a retinue. No friends, no sentries, nothing. Alone. 

Pity spiked in his chest. For just a splitting moment, Lucien wondered what it was all for. If he wasn’t better off closing his doors to all of them, mating Elain quietly, and just forgetting the rest of them. If he failed, did he risk ending up like Tamlin? 

Elain reached him, drawing some of his attention away from the future. He reached for her face, holding her cheek in the palm of his hand. “You look lovely,” he said, eyes raking over the off-shoulder golden gown she wore. 

“You look unsettled,” she said, her gaze sharpening ever so slightly. 

Lucien let her follow his gaze back to Tamlin, seated at one of the long tables by himself. He spoke to no one, goblet in hand, and no one dared to speak to him. 

“It was good to invite him,” she said, her tone sharper than he’d heard all day. Beneath her doe-eyed innocence was a female smart enough to rival every male in the room. “You should have invited Eris.”

“Fuck Eris,” was his automatic response. 

“What’s the alternative, Lucien? He aligns himself with Rhysand? You don’t have to like him.”

Be smart, was the unspoken request. Lucien was blinded in this way and he knew it. Eris had an arsenal of weapons at his disposal. None so potent as their mother, still housed and under Eris’s protection. 

“You don’t understand this,” Lucien snapped, sliding his hand over her hip to walk her up that dais. She went with him, altering her expression into one of love-sick devotion. He wished it was his normal court and a normal night so he could shove her to her knees and put his cock in the back of her throat. 

“Family is complicated, and giving Rhysand any allies at all would be a mistake. He’s too powerful as it is. Sideline people, Lucien. Put your own feelings aside if you want revenge or admit you intend to hold this fruitless grudge until you die.”

“Cauldron boil me, we’re not even married,” he grumbled, dropping into his throne like a spoiled prince. Elain took her own seat, covering his hand with her own. 

“I’ll entertain him if you can’t. Invite him to the ceremony. Remind him you two share blood…and who put that crown on his head.”Lucien ran a hand through his thick hair. “I should crown you High Lord while I’m at it.”Elain settled primly in her chair, her lips pressed into a satisfied line. She didn’t outwardly agree, but he knew inwardly his words pleased her. 

Lucien marinated in his thoughts for the rest of the day while Elain played hostess. He sent that letter—last minute, so Eris understood he was an afterthought. His mother could join, but the rest of his brothers could not. Eris could bring members of his personal guard so long as they were unexceptional, magically. And, because Lucien never missed an opportunity to be an asshole, required Eris bring Elain a gift given she would now be his sister. 

He didn’t visit Elain that night, though putting her on her knees might have settled the knot in his chest. Lucien wanted to be alone, wanted to stew in his thoughts without her trying to fix things. Or worse, reminding him of all the good reasons why allying with Eris—no matter how awful. As if she’d have ever done the same with Feyre. 

If Lucien was honest with himself, he would have admitted he was nervous for more than just Eris. Some not insignificant part of him expected Rhysand to burst in at any moment, laughing that he’d fallen for it. As Lucien carefully braided pieces of his hair, as he dressed himself, that was all he could think of. 

She wasn’t going to be waiting for him. She’d be gone, she would leave, she’d reject him like she’d been doing for years. Lucien was a mass of nerves when Arina and Ajax came for him, the pair cautiously pleased. 

“I have Tamlin sitting with the High Lord of Winter,” Arina began, eyes sliding to a stack of paper held in her delicate hands. “Viviane could talk to a wall.”

“Summer and Dawn are intermixed,” Ajax added, flanking Lucien’s other side as the pair strode down the hall. 

“Unity,” Arina all but teased, her green eyes filled with questions. Why is all this necessary?

Still, his advisors were smart enough not to ask what he was up to, and smarter still to figure it out without Lucien ever needing to share. 

“And Elain?” he asked, trying to remain utterly unaffected. Casual and aloof—and failing, if the amusement on Arina’s face was any indication.

“Ready when you are,” she said with an easy smile.

“Lord,” Ajax added, his words tight. “Autumn Court…where should we put them?”

The dungeon. The words were on the tip of his tongue as he rounded the corner. What would happen if he challenged his brother, besides? Brothers fought–and Vanserra’s were expected to kill each other, besides.

“Wow,” he said instead, eyes landing on Elain. She was waiting in the open atrium, looking towards the closed doors of the hall nervously. Color flushed over her cheeks when she whipped around to look at him. She wore a dress of white, trimmed in melted gold. Standing in pooling sunlight, she didn’t need the pretty circlet woven through her rich, golden brown curls. Lucien forgot he was standing between his two most trusted friends, rooted in place as he drank her in.

She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. His eyes traveled down the curve of her throat to the dipping vee of her dress. Her exposed collarbone and the pushing swell of her breasts were dusted with a shimmering powder that made it seem as if she glowed. The beaded white gown clung to the soft curves of her body, flaring to the ground gently. 

“Lord?”

“Put them anywhere,” Lucien dismissed. He didn’t care about his fucking brother anymore. He didn’t care about his planning, his plotting—anything but his mate. Standing under that golden dome, pearls in her ears, and a sunstone on her finger. 

“Hi,” she whispered as he came towards her. Lucien was suddenly afraid to touch her. He felt like that male standing before her moments after arriving in Velaris. Uncertain. Confused. 

Fascinated.

“You look…” he didn’t know how to finish that sentence. She waited, chin inclined, for him to finish what he was saying. He saw her defenses raised, her expectation he would not be kind. Was this who he was, then? It was clear she didn’t trust him.

Lucien didn’t want his mothers marriage reflected in his own. He reached for her face, sweeping his thumb over her cheek. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured, forcing the words to soften in his mouth. He’d make the first move, then. She swallowed, her heart a jumping staccato between them. He wanted to kiss her and thought he might wreck the pretty, pink paint gracing her mouth. 

He’d have her later, he reminded himself. 

Lucien dropped his hand, offering it to her instead. “Are you ready?” he asked, thinking this wasn’t quite the way of things. He wasn’t supposed to walk her down—her father was.

He was dead. Who else was left? Instead of being gifted his bride, he’d walk at her side and mark them equals. True equals, he thought. Everything Elain had, she’d earned. Cauldron blessed by the mother herself. Not by High Lords and not by theft, but by virtue. Her very soul examined and found worthy. A Seer in a land that so rarely gifted that magic to begin with—and powerful enough she could shift the tide in wars, both with her prophecy and a blade in her hand. 

Two sentries pulled open the doors, silencing the chattering crowd. It was the first marriage between a Day Court High Lord and a consort in over eight hundred years–and though rival lords were rarely invited, Lucien had turned his own wedding into a political spectacle. 

Five powerful sets of eyes would watch Elain vow before all the gods to love him, honor him, and obey him of her own volition. 

And at the resulting dinner, they would discuss what was to be done when rival lords sent spies across their borders. Lucien wanted written policy and agreement. It was only a matter of time before another member of the inner circle came crawling into Day, and next time, Lucien intended to send their bloodied face back in a box. 

Then, and only then, would he eat whatever Elain had dreamt up, haul her up over his shoulder, and fuck her like he’d been dreaming of. Lucien was considering he could have everything he wanted. His mate. A family of his own choosing, of his own making. His political ambitions, unhindered by a High Lord too emotional to be logical or rational. 

Lucien was practically giddy, stepping into the hall. All eyes on the pair of them. He squeezed her hand, hoping to steady her. It was impossible not to notice that there was no one from Elain’s family there to represent or support her. Lucien hadn’t tried to get Nesta and some small part of him regretted that. There was no way Elain hadn’t realized that she was utterly isolated in Day with him.

Even Arina, smiling brightly at Elain, wasn’t a substitute for a sister. His eyes fell on his brother, seated in the middle of the room just behind Summer. Eris was glaring at him with icy eyes, his fury a living, writhing thing. It clicked for Lucien, staring down his brother. How he could give his wife her sister, how he could keep tabs on Rhysand, could have his mother without having to be too close to his brother.

Eris would understand. Would accept it, even. No one had ever loved Eris without strings. Why should Lucien? 

He refocused his attention on Elain. One thing at a time. To get what he wanted, he needed to be patient, and clever, and most of all, he needed to focus on the most important thing at any given moment. Cementing his mating bond in front of five High Lords was all that mattered. 

Lucien, standing atop a golden dias, in a room over her noble blooded faerie in the realm, turned to Elain with an easy, hopeful smile. None of it was feigned. He didn’t love her—though he hoped to. Lucien took a breath, took her hand.

And he began. 

Lucien didn’t think he’d ever truly recall any part of his wedding with absolute clarity. Elain was too beautiful, his heart too loud, to hear the words that were spoken between them. A tear slipped from her carefully made up eye, to which Elain brushed away quickly with a sheepish smile. He hoped her show of emotion was real. It certainly felt real when she tilted her chin for a kiss, one he accepted greedily.

Married.

But not mated. That was the lynchpin in Lucien’s plan. His wife had planned a spectacular party which would culminate in Elain offering him a piece of wedding cake. It gave Lucien an immense amount of free time to work the room, Elain at his side.

“Is that your mother?” she whispered when they entered the ballroom. His mother was seated at a table close to the throne he and Elain were walking towards. Lucien’s spine prickled at the sight of her. He had so many questions that he was too afraid to have answered. He didn’t look her in the eye, though he could see from the angling of her body that she was desperately trying to get his attention. His brother had his arm over his mothers chair, that same hateful stare burning against Lucien’s back. 

He led Elain up the steps, holding her hand as he went. She sat first, and then Lucien as he was still the Mother chosen High Lord. His mother, who he was still avoiding like a coward, had produced two High Lords. A feat, all things considered. Lucien could not think of one other instance in which such a thing had happened. 

And he was angry about it. 

“How long do we sit here?” Elain asked, trying again when it was clear Lucien was not going to answer about his mother.

“They dance first, and our courtiers present us with gifts,” he explained, leaning over the arm of his throne to brush a finger against her skin. Goosebumps erupted in the wake of his touch, thrilling him. 

“Are you going to talk to Eris?” she whispered. 

“Noticed him staring, did you?” Lucien’s mouth slipped into a tight smile. 

Elain’s attention was diverted when Arina, dressed in shimmering panels of gold, padded to the center of the room in her bare feet. She wasn’t alone—the other dancers had joined, their bodies slick with coil and dusted in gold. Lucien hadn’t seen one of their shows in a while—too often, he had Elain between his legs so everyone could see just how enthusiastic their new Lady was. 

“I didn’t know she danced,” Elain whispered. Loud drums from the back of the room punched out a hypnotic beat, joining the other musicians who made the very air feel like water. Elain wasn’t the only one transfixed—when he glanced at his brother, Eris’s mouth was half open, as if he’d never seen anything like Arina before.

Lucien settled back against his throne, smug as hell. Stuck up Autumn likely hadn’t. Eris likely ruled with the same prudish morals Beron once had. Lucien made a mental note to tell Arina to harass his brother a little, if only to get under Eris’s skin.

It didn’t last long. Eris was back to glaring at Lucien before Arina’s hips ever stopped swaying. He didn’t stop—not when courtiers and other High Lords began making a processional towards them. Jewels and fine fabric and spices were laid at Elain’s feet. All of it earned Lucien’s approval.

His brother brought his mother, making up the rear of the train. He dropped an ornate, gold box at Elain’s feet with little care while his mother very clearly did her best not to cry. 

“You look well,” she managed, her eyes glassy and hopeful. Eris looked as if he might pull the dagger hidden in his knee high books and cut Lucien’s throat.

“A ruby diadem from the trove. Surely you remember the one,” Eris said. Lucien’s lips curled off his teeth, a snarl slipping from him. His own Autumn crown had a twin for his wife—one he’d tried to give to Jesminda, before she died. He hadn’t considered that Eris might lay such a thing and Elain’s feet.

Elain slid her hand over his own, offering both Eris and his mother a sweet smile. She didn’t know.

She didn’t care, more likely. She rose, having settled him just enough to step off the raised platform to loop her arm through his mothers.

“Would you care for a drink?” Elain, the consummate hostess, asked. His mother nodded, offering Lucien one last pleading look. He ignored the guilt that flooded through him, drumming his fingers over the arm of his throne.

“What,” Eris began, not bothering to conceal his words, “the fuck are you doing over here? Play acting High Lord again?”

Lucien fucking hated Eris. “Does this look like play-acting?”

Eris sneered. “You look like a child in father's robes again.”

Lucien rose from his seat, his temper rising in his throat. A rip on the bond in his chest drew his eyes across the room where Elain stood, laughing at something his mother had said. Some silly childhood story no doubt, trying to win over his wife so he might speak with her. Elain was still paying attention. 

“This is a conciliatory gesture,” Lucien said through gritted teeth.

Eris barked out a laugh. “This is a show. Tell me what you want.”

”My wife wanted you here,” Lucien said dismissively, joining the throngs of well-wishers and revelers. 

“And you wanted, what, exactly?” Eris added, those shrewd eyes never leaving his face. “Another ally in your obvious vendetta against Rhysand and Feyre? You stole his Seer, you destroyed Azriel’s shadows…he’s going to hit you back, and hard, Lucien. You’re not the only one who can work a room.”

“He killed twenty younglings in Winter. Destroyed Spring after stealing their soon-to-be Lady, and in the resulting destruction, allowed a foreign army to sweep through Summer. Who do you imagine is particularly charmed by Rhysand and his child bride?”

Eris snorted. “The same people charmed by you and yours. You have the moral high ground for now,” Eris whispered, waiting for Lucien to reveal his hand. 

“I lost my eye while he was fucking that cunt,” Lucien snapped, grabbing Eris by his upper arm. He pushed his brother towards a pillar, lowering his voice. “You think anyone in Prythian likes Rhysand on anything but a technicality? His own territory is unstable, and none of them know it. He can’t keep the Illyrians in line and is still in our business, telling us how to run things.”

“So what’s your plan? Kill another High Lord in broad daylight and hope everyone hates him as much as Beron and you get to live happily ever after in your sandcastle?”

Lucien hated Eris. He waved a hand, dropping his grip on his brother. “Don’t worry about my plans. Enjoy the party. Make sure you tell Elain thank you for her hospitality.”He turned his back, walking towards her.

One.

Two. 

Three.

“Wait,” Eris called. Just like always, Eris wanted something too. Lucien turned, cocking his head. They were still brothers. Eris knew him just as well as Lucien knew Eris. “A trade.”He hadn’t expected that. “What could you possibly want?”

“The dancer,” Eris said, his words strangely breathless.

“Arina? What—don’t tell me. I don’t want to know,” Lucien interrupted, surprised that the thing his brother wanted was a female. “In exchange for what?”

“Whatever ridiculous thing you wanted when you wrote that letter.”

They stared at each other. “Arina bites.”

An amused smile slid over his brother's cold, pale features. “My type.”

“Nesta Archeron. My wife wants to talk with her. And I want someone inside their court. Someone I can trust.”

Eris chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Nesta accepted her bond with Cassian. She won’t leave. She’s more likely to stage an ambush than she is to defect.”

“But you’ll try?”

Eris shrugged. “Your funeral. She’s toothless now. Just another declawed kitten for his court to play with.”

“And your deal with Rhysand?” Lucien prodded. Eris gritted his teeth.

“Abandon your plan. Whatever scheme you’ve cooked up, forget it. Put your female to bed and be grateful to have her.”

Lucien shook his head. “Yes or no, Eris.”

“Make nice with mother. She misses you. She loves you. We’re brothers—of course I’ll fucking help you. But fuck, Lucien…you’ll get yourself and Elain killed if you don’t back down.”

“Fine.”

Eris and Lucien stared each other down for a moment, their fingers twitching as if they ought to shake on it. 

“Arina goes if she wants,” Lucien dismissed, altering the terms before the magic settled. 

“She will.”

Eris turned, sweeping away before Lucien could offer any further questions. His brother would learn the hard way, just like so many other males, that she wasn’t about to run off to another court because a High Lord had taken an interest in her. Lucien had gotten what he wanted, and in return all he had to do was be nice to his mother.

He made his way to the pair, forcing a smile he didn’t quite feel. “Mother,” he said by way of greeting.

That glassy quality returned to her gaze. Please don’t cry. 

“Lucien,” she breathed.

“Feel free to stay as long as you like,” he said, snaking his hand around Elain’s waist. She brightened, mouthing told you as if Lucien couldn’t see the whole thing. Amera Vanserra nodded, tucking a piece of auburn hair behind her ear.

“I would like that.”

Lucien offered one more tense smile and then swept Elain towards the long table. “I’m starving,” he complained.

“Soon,” Elain agreed, lacing her fingers with his. 

Lucien shook his head, suddenly too raw for his liking. His careful walls were cracked and crumbling, and if he continued as he was, everyone would see the fragile beat of his heart just beneath. 

“I can’t wait,” he said, pulling her flush against him. Lucien reached for a chair, pulling them both into it. Those who happened to see chuckled, more curious than anything of the mated pair.

He was well aware everyone wanted to know if the stories were true. Lucien wanted to know, too. 

Elain reached over the table for a small meatball stuck on a toothpick. “I’ve arranged everything just so,” she said, teasing the piece of food just in front of his face. “Don’t spoil my fun.”

“I’ve had enough,” Lucien half growled, half pleaded. Their gazes held, and he knew she could feel his desperation. 

I can’t take another minute of their presence. 

His brother, sniffing after his friend and his mother floating about a palace he never knew she’d even seen, reminded Lucien of everything he’d lost. All the lies, the time wasted, the centuries of wishing, of wondering, of hoping. He couldn’t count the times he had cried into his pillow as a boy. Wondering why his father seemed to hate him more than his brother. Why he was singled out for every small thing, why he received no affection, no praise? 

No love. 

“Spoilsport,” she chided, but she put the food against his tongue all the same. They had an audience, people watching to see what would happen, Kallias knew, but the others were blissfully unaware. Lucien chewed, his eyes never leaving her face. He expected some vicious clanging in his chest, a bell tolling from the heavens above. 

Mine. She’s mine. 

It was his only thought. Lucien blinked, reaching a hand to cup her face. “Elain,” he breathed, as though he were saying it for the first time.

Her smile was genuine, creating dimples in her cheeks. How had he never noticed that before? Freckles dusted a constellation of stars over the bridge of her nose from where she’d been kissed by the sun. Her brown eyes were flecked with green and rimmed in gold.

“Look at you,” he whispered, drinking her in with new appreciation. “My Elain.”

She brushed her fingers over his lips, as if she, too, were seeing him for the very first time. He leaned forward, the tip of his nose brushing her own. There was a stillness to the moment, their breath mingled in the air between them.

And then a hand on his shoulder, jolting him back to reality. “Would you like privacy, my lord?” Ajax asked it with amusement, reminding Lucien he still had an audience. Lucien cleared his throat, looking up at the room. They were being watched by the amused High Lords and their courtiers—and ignored by his own. Day was far too used to the lurid displays he and Elain often put on to find any of this interesting. They danced and feasted, creating a clear disconnect between guests and residents.

“Enjoy yourselves,” Lucien declared, hoisting Elain up into his arms as he stood. She squealed in delight, cheeks flushed as she ran a hand over the bare swaths of his chest. “Stay the evening—stay the night.”

There were murmurings of appreciation and as Lucien stepped out into the hall, he motioned for Ajax to come with him.

“Make sure the High Lords know they’re welcome to return.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Lucien took off, groaning when Elain licked the side of his neck. “It all feels good,” she whispered, breath fanning against his skin. “Tastes good.”

“Don’t stop,” he asked, though the growing erection between his legs was making it practically impossible to walk. He nearly crashed into a pillar when her teeth nipped at the hollow of his neck, and just barely got them into his bedroom before he was ripping himself out of his ceremonial sandals and clothes. 

“It’s worse than they said it would be,” Elain panted, fumbling the buttons on the back of her gown. Lucien strode to tear it apart, too, but she slapped her palm to his bare stomach.

“Let me,” he growled.

“What if my daughter wants it someday?” she panted. He went still at the notion. Children. He didn’t know how to ask the question, to make her admit she wanted that future with him. Why couldn’t his political marriage have all those things? He’d need an heir, wouldn’t he?

He wanted an heir. 

While Lucien dreamt of the litter that might one day run through his halls, Elain managed to get off her dress. Her naked body was hardly anything new and yet the sight of her filled him with brand-new appreciation. Lucien went to her, pushing her against the bed as his mouth found hers. She tasted like spun sugar. He was addicted, her tongue immediately stroking against his own as her nails raked lightly against the back of his neck. He was already grinding himself against her, the head of his cock pressed into her thigh. 

“I need,” he panted into her mouth, “to be in you.”

Elain moaned, arching against his body. Her legs had fallen open, giving him unparalleled access to every inch of her. There was no rush, given they had an eternity together, and somehow Lucien felt as if he didn’t fuck her right then and there, he would die never having been given the chance. 

Lucien slotted himself against her, dazed to find her wet. Elain hadn’t stopped kissing him and he didn’t think she realized until he pushed himself into her. With a gasping breath, Elain broke away to try and look between their bodies.

“This is really happening,” she breathed, digging her nails into his shoulder. 

He hated himself. Halfway into her, Lucien froze. “Do you want me to stop?” He would—it would be hell, given how tightly she was gripping him, and he would. He’d stop, he’d get off her and walk away.

“No,” she said. One word was all it took to fill Lucien with immeasurable relief. He thrust the rest of his cock into her, holding himself for a moment while she wiggled, getting used to the size of him. Lucien was rather content to let himself get used to her—absurdly tight, dripping wet, and mind-numbingly tight. She’d been made for him. 

“My pretty mate,” Lucien whispered, teasing one of her peaked nipples with his fingers as he began his slow, measured thrusting. She arched her neck, eyes rolling into her head. “Is this what you like, Elain?”

She only whimpered. Lucien thrust a little harder, still toying with her nipples to draw more of those gasping moans. He was merely a creature of need—everything he did was to heighten their combined pleasure so he could have her again.

“What about this?” he asked, thrusting faster, letting himself get a little rough. He pinched and she moaned, meeting him thrust for thrust with her pretty, rolling hips. Pleasure skittered through him, building like an out-of-control fire. She was a match for the magic coursing a river through him.

Elain was a song, was bright, burning light that filled any room. She tightened around him, eyes fluttering open to look.

“Tell me how you like it,” he whispered, reaching for her jaw. He thumbed over her lips, delighted when her tongue darted from behind her teeth to tease at his skin. She sucked him into her mouth, teasing and rubbing like she so often did when it was his cock in her throat. Lucien could feel the combined sensations on his sensitive head, driving him half wild. 

Using his other hand, Lucien pressed his thumb to her slick clit, making tight circles over the little nub until Elain was bucking beneath him, just as wild as he felt. They were both out of control, the slap of skin combined with their breathy, pleading moans. He didn’t want it to end, and yet Lucien was desperate to finish. 

He’d wondered for so long what it would be like to have her. Mating bond or not, Lucien was certain he’d still have felt the same. Would have lost himself when he felt that first wave of her cunt pulsate around him, thrusting viciously—chasing the same pleasure she was drowning in. Lucien was loud enough that anyone nearby could hear him come. It was pure ecstasy losing himself in the softness of her, of pumping and pumping until he could feel his own emissions sliding out with each new drag of cock to make a mess of the sheets beneath them.

Lucien pulled her against him, arms tight around her body. 

“Was it what you thought?” she asked, stroking through his hair, lips against his cheek. 

Lucien pressed a messy kiss to her mouth, his need getting the best of him. His hips were already grinding into her again. 

“Ask me again in a week, Elain.”

#evil elucien #yeah yeah lucien youre so evil tell us again about all the colors in elains eyes again? #sorry for the “wait”

[whats-a-jarjar]

ACOTAR SHIPS

okay i don’t know if anyone will see this... probably not but i wanted to get it out and state my thoughts. these are just my opinions so please don’t be mad if you disagree with me! obviously we don’t know everything so most of it is up in the air clearly. but here we go...

⚠️Acosf spoilers obviously 🤪⚠️

OK obviously this is about Elain Gwyn and lucien and azriel and you know that whole discussion.

so let’s start with Elain. OK I liked Elain a lot in the first couple books and I actually did like Elriel. I shipped them pretty hard. but after reading a court of silver flames and the Azriel POV bonus chapter my thoughts have changed.

I don’t think Elain and Azriel are meant to be together anymore. I just don’t think they love each other.  I think they like each other and are infatuated with each other but most of all I think they like what the other one represents. 

for Azriel I think he struggles a lot with his self acceptance and belonging. like in the Azriel chapter I think that became clear when he was talking about how he was jealous of Cassian and rhys. all his life he’s been an outsider, with his brothers and his family and with the people of the night court like the citizens, and even in the inner circle. I don’t think the inner circle sees him as an outsider nor do the readers but I think honestly Azriel sees himself as an outsider even with the inner circle. as well as the fact that he’s never really accepted himself and accepted the things he’s been through over the past 500 years. he still struggles with who he is, what his shadows mean, and with love especially. I think for him to see his brothers end up with two of the archeron sisters, he already feels like an outsider and that made him feel even more so. I think he is hopeful that Elain could be his mate or that the cauldron was wrong because he desperately wants to feel that love and feel that belonging plus it doesn’t help that now Cassian and rhys are like actual brothers by law. for Azriel I think Elain represents that belonging and how they can all be one big happy family(in his mind bc to us they already are). and that’s what he so desperately wants and loves. Because in the Azriel chapter when he was talking about Elain or thinking about her he didn’t really seem to talk about her personally or her personality but rather sexual attraction and then what she represents (to Rhys). and along with the conversation with rhys I don’t think azriel believes he has a claim on elain or that he deserves her I just think he really wants to fit in. and although Azriel was looking at her gift of like the powder every night before bed Which don’t get me wrong is pretty cute I still think he’s doing that out of his need for love and belonging rather than love for Elain. 

now Elain. OK for her I’m not sure if she likes Azriel. I think she does but I don’t know if she loves him either. I think she also likes what he represents. For her Azriel is her own choice and her rebellion. Since going into the cauldron she’s lost all of that: her humanity her choice her control. I think she wants to be with Azriel because she can control it. I mean I think she is sexually attracted to azriel as he is to her but I don’t think there’s any love.

as for Elain and Lucien because it ties in as well, whether they end up together or not I think they could be good for each other. i saw this in another post but I think Elain connects lucien to her trauma with the cauldron. Especially with her lack of choice and control because the cauldron took away her humanity, it took away her life, her friends, all that she had in the human world and then right when she came out Lucien was like im your mate which  immediately took away her choice in relationships and her control with love. I want Elain to give Lucien a chance whether that’s romantically or just getting to know him because I think that could help her with her trauma and you know if she wants to reject mating bond for whatever reason I hope that she at least tries to get to know Lucien. but I also think elain‘s being a little cold to Lucien because he was just thrown in it the same way she was. He thought he found his mate already in jesminda and then Elain shows up and is his mate and he’s almost as opposed to the idea as she is. I just want her to give him a chance because I think he could help her overcome her trauma and he can be open to love again since i think he’s fearful of it negates of jesminda. I just think the pairing could be cool for both of them.🤷🏼‍♀️

okay here’s why i don’t think elriel are a good pairing (aside from love). OK Elain represents flowers light bright colors life. Azriel represents shadows dark colors the night death. they’re opposites. And while i’m all here for a forbidden love opposites attract story, I just don’t think it works with them. for instance azriels shadows disappear around Elain. While I thought that was cute at first and I was like “aww she’s the light in his life“ looking back now i think they shouldn’t disappear around his “person”. azriels shadows are a part of him and although obviously he didn’t want to go through what he went through and no one should have to, they still remain an extension of who he is. if he were to end up with elain he’d have to change who he is. he wouldn’t be able to be the spy master or the shadow singer or the introvert with the dark past which we all know and love as Azriel. I don’t think elain can be with that type of person either. Despite hearing about her getting her hands dirty referring to gardening I don’t think she can be with someone like Azriel who is a torturer and could be seen as merciless. (which is one of my favorite things about him which is slightly concerning for me but anyways...) Azriel would just have to change who he is to be with elain for his sake and for hers... which is really toxic so… as well it was mentioned by Cassian and Nesta that Elain looks terrible in black. Well they said she looked pretty but that it just didn’t suit her and like was pulling the life out of her. And nesta mentioned she’d be happy in the spring court as she likes gardening, she thrives on light and life. so I don’t think the night court is for her as well as azriel isn’t for her as he represents the dark and literally black and the night court. 

now i think it would be cool if she did end up with lucien and he either became the high Lord of the Springcourt or the day court (which I’m still really pissed that we’ve been through a whole other book without anyone telling Lucien helion is his father like hello he’s an important character... rude). it would just allow her to thrive as,in my option, we haven’t really seen her do so far. [Plus I think a possibility of an evil elain would be so cool. I don’t think she would actually go against her family with evil intentions, but if she made a bargain of some sort and ended up being an antagonist but not a villain I wouldn’t hate it. At the moment she’s a little boring, but then again we don’t really know her personality so I’m open to an awesome character arc]

OK now it’s Gwynriel time!! OK not to start any fights, but I’m not gonna lie, the few interactions we’ve had between Gwyn and Azriel has started a whole feud because it has so much more chemistry compared to the few Azriel and elain moments we’ve had over almost four whole books. but gwynriel. ok no matter who you ship, I think we can all agree that we love gwyn and gwyn is a great character.  Plus I think she’s perfect for az. now I know a lot of people don’t like the proof about azriels shadows, but I actually think that’s really important. like I mentioned earlier, azriels shadows are a part of who he is and extension of him.  now clearly they like Gwyn, they are the president of the Gwynriel fan club, and they ship them hard.  they interact a lot with her a lot. Now I think because of this Gwyn and however azriel will cope in his book will allow him to embrace his shadows and except himself. this is really important to his character in my opinion. I think, and I’m not sure how to be honest, but his shadows liking Gwyn and Gwyn seeking comfort in the dark ( which probably means she likes his shadows) will allow Azriel to see his shadows and his scars and his past as not some thing that will bring him down but rather something almost to be proud of since he went through so much. I think once Azriel learns to accept himself and all parts of him, he will better be able to see that his family accepts him, because no one is really able to see that they’re accepted unless they accept themselves. and I think he would finally feel that he belongs somewhere which is such a good story to me and I don’t know if that’s just because I personally connect or I just want Azriel to be happy with himself and his life and whoever is in it but I think that sounds awesome☺️

so there’s a lot of possibilities about what will happen in the next book which we still don’t even know who’s point of view it is because apparently it’s so “obvious” but actually sarah it’s not so please tell us!! I do think in Elains book her trial, whatever that may be, is going to happen at the prison because feyres happened under the mountain and nestas happened on ramiel and there’s an extra mountain and an extra sister so I feel like that could definitely be a thing that happens but who knows?? I don’t know but these are just my thoughts and I missing points obviously I’m not perfect spoiler alert, but yeah. 

if anyone has any opinions let me know!! I love discussing things especially books!

okay thanks for coming to my TED talk 🙂

#acotar #acosf theory #gwynriel #nessian #elriel #elucien #thoughts #i dont know #sarah j maas #sjm #azriel x gwyn #azriel #lucien #gwyn acosf

[separatist-apologist]

I can see Eris telling embarrassing stories about Lucien to Elain and Lucien just has to sit there and take it. Do a one shot of that!

YES this is what I'm talking about.

Lucien had meant to be back sooner, honestly. Velaris was starting to grow on him, despite the brutally cold winter that seemed unending. He supposed the winter was made tolerable by the fact that his mate, sweet, kind Elain, was practically living in his apartment in the city. He hadn’t formally asked her to stay forever—though it was very much implied—and she hadn’t mentioned going back home since they’d spent the night together two months earlier. She just…quietly continued to bring things over and fold them neatly in his drawers, and Lucien acted like everything was very normal and he was not waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He would have been home before the sun set had it not been for another of Jurian and Vassa’s squabbles. He’d been roped in the middle, unable to escape despite the fact that he was very aware their fights were just foreplay, foreplay he very much did not want to be part of.

He was eager to see Elain, to see if she’d added another plant to the window or if she’d rearranged another room in his apartment to her liking or just to feel her arms around his neck, her breathless words welcoming him home with her bright, shining eyes. He slid his key into the front door, practically squirming in the cold as wind whipped his hair around his face. He heard soft voices laughing in the living room, silenced when the door closed behind him.

“Lucien?” Elain called, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall. She appeared, her eyes bright, cheeks stained red with laughter.

“Sorry I’m late,” he told her, hanging his cloak on a hook by the door before he pulled her against him. “Do we have company or can we go upstairs…and talk?”

She flushed at the innuendo, her fingers toying with his hair. “We do. I hope you don’t mind but—”

“Baby Lucien,” Eris crooned from the hall, arms crossed over his chest. “I stopped by to bring my sister a gift and she was so kind to offer me dinner.”

“Eris has been telling me stories about your childhood,” Elain added breathlessly, clearly somehow charmed by the eldest Vanserra. Lucien held Elain to his chest, looking over her head with narrowed eyes at the mock innocence on his brother’s face.

“Oh?”

Eris grinned wickedly. “Such a curious, lovely mate you have.”

Lucien forced himself to smile because Elain was gazing up at him with such admiration and he couldn’t bring himself to ruin her good mood.

“Eris brought me a fern from the Forest House,” Elain added breathlessly, tugging Lucien by the hand to the living room to show him her newest acquisition. She’d hung the leafy plant from the ceiling, no doubt with Eris’ help given how short she was, from one of her knitted pot holders.

“They don’t require too much sun,” Eris explained innocently. With Elain’s back turned to Lucien, he gestured wildly for Eris to get the fuck out.

“What? I didn’t understand what you said,” Eris drawled, drawing Elain’s attention back towards the pair of them. Eris promptly sat back on Lucien’s cream-colored sofa, ankle crossed over his knee, and reached for his delicate white and pink tea cup that seemed so out of place in his hands. Elain scurried to the other seat, leaving Lucien to occupy a chair across the room. She began pouring tea from her porcelain, flower etched tray, sitting neatly atop his dark wooden coffee table, clearly meant for him.

“I was telling Elain about the time you came running through the throne room in nothing but your cloak,” Eris began, amusement curling his words. “Do you remember?”

Lucien closed his eyes for a beat, trying not to remember how the courtiers laughed for years after, how they’d made veiled jokes about his penis well into adulthood.

Elain looked up, pouring cream and scooping sugar into his cup exactly as he liked it. She was an angel, he decided. He would allow Eris this memory to make her happy, but afterwards he would make up for his suffering by dragging her off to his bed and refusing to let her leave for the rest of the night…and most of the next day.

“I was six,” he reminded Eris.

“True. Tell Elain about the gang you started. What were they called, again?” Eris, the actual devil, asked. Elain turned, eyebrows raised.

“You had a gang?” She asked him with such wide-eyed optimism it took everything in his body not to slide down his chair. Lucien took the tea cup from her hands, fingers brushing her knuckles. Maybe he could flood the bond with all the sexually inappropriate things he’d like to do to her and she’d get distracted and tell Eris to shove it—

“We weren’t a gang,” he muttered, burning his mouth as he took a drink. “We just had matching jackets.”

“So you did,” Eris replied, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hold in his laughter. Eris was unmatched in this arena, considering by the time Lucien had been born, Eris had been in his thirties, a man in all the ways that counted. It certainly didn’t help that Lucien, a boy who didn’t know any better, had hero worshipped his eldest brother, giving Eris a front-row seat to the most awkward years of his life.

“I think that’s sweet,” Elain assured Lucien earnestly.

“What did you want to be when you grew up, Elain?” Eris asked, evil gleam in his eye. She thought about it for a moment, really considering his question as though it had any merit and wasn’t just another opportunity for Eris to embarrass Lucien.

“I wanted to own a little flower shop,” she told the pair of them. Eris hesitated, some emotion warring in his expression.

“Do you need a financial backer? Why haven’t you done it?” Eris demanded while Lucien chuckled from his chair. Eris might be embarrassing him, but Elain very clearly had Eris wrapped around her finger.

“Ask him for a dog,” Lucien prodded. Elain’s eyes went wide but Eris was one step ahead.

“Do you want a puppy?”

“I—”

“I’ll let you know when the next litter is born,” Eris interrupted smoothly. “And Lucien wanted to be a mommy when he a boy.”

“Really?” Elain asked breathlessly. “You want children?”

Lucien and Eris’ eyes met and Lucien couldn’t resist the smug smirk he levied at his brother. Fuck you, he knew his expression screamed. You just did me a major favor.

“Sorry I loved my mom when I was little,” Lucien told Eris smoothly while Elain stared at Lucien with bright, affectionate eyes. “And yeah, I want to be a dad. Do you want—”

“Nope,” Eris interrupted quickly, standing. “Way to ruin a fun day, Lucien. Elain, you have been lovely,” he assured her, sweeping into a deep bow. “Please keep in touch…I’m sure there are more Autumn flowers that would look stunning in your home. I’ll let you know about the puppies, too…though keep this one away from their treats. He used to eat them.

Lucien slid down the back of his chair at Eris’ words, embarrassment heating his cheeks when Elain giggled.

“Lucien…be nice to my sister.” Eris finished before striding out of the room. Elain, an immaculate hostess, followed after him to thank him for the afternoon and welcome him back whenever. Lucien wished she wasn’t so liberal with her time or their home when it came to Eris. She returned to the living room a moment later, a smile tugging on her pretty, pink lips. Lucien stood, arms extended, and pulled her into his chest.

“I don’t get why everyone dislikes him,” she said with a sweet sigh. “He’s nice.”

“He’s a menace,” Lucien disagreed. She looked up, chin pressed against his tunic.

“Maybe…but it’s pretty obvious he adores you.”

Lucien scoffed. “Adores embarrassing me, maybe.”

Elain sighed, tucking herself into his embrace. “Were you embarrassed? I thought his stories were sweet.” Perhaps Eris misjudged Elain, he thought, stroking her hair. While Eris had been trying to get a rise out of Lucien, maybe Eris had inadvertently made Lucien look better in her eyes. He couldn’t be angry about that, he decided. He’d take what he could get.

“What was the name of your gang?” She asked, interrupting his musings with a soft giggle. Lucien groaned. “The dandy-lions…because we were…we were both fierce with swords…and the ladies.”

Elain was shaking with laughter, her face pressed into his chest to muffle the sound. “That’s…no…that’s so cute. I’m not laughing at you I swear…you were…what—”

“Fifteen,” he grumbled as a new wave of laughter overtook her. It took her a moment to calm herself enough to gasp out, “That’s nice that you had friends.”

Lucien swept her up and turned towards the stairs. “What are you doing?” She asked, her words breathless for an entirely different reasons, hands clinging to his neck.

“Living up to my reputation,” he replied. Elain dissolved into a new fit of giggles even as Lucien tossed her on his bed.

“Fierce with the ladies?” She asked, reaching for a pillow to shove over her face while her shoulders shook.

“Exactly,” he agreed.

#elucien fanfic #elucien fic #elucien prompt #elain x lucien #eris vanserra #love how much of a menace eris is