Archive of Our Own

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- Lucien -

Another dull party was coming to an end, but Lucien had to give Thesan some credit. The decor, the food, the drinks… all were immaculate. The party festivities themselves? A bore. The Dawn Court was known for their formality and tradition, so the music and dance were all simple and quiet and reserved. Opposite of any type of party Lucien would normally enjoy.

He wouldn’t have actually chosen to come here on his own, but being Emissary to the Night Court, he had duties to fulfill. The entire Night Court was there that evening, invited by Thesan, along with Day Court, for some mingling amongst the Solar Courts. Something about keeping old alliances strong and all that. But from the intel Lucien had already skillfully obtained, alliances were just fine in the Solar Courts. It was the volatile ones in the south they had to worry about. Mainly the two courts that Lucien most recently hailed from, Spring and Autumn.

But Lucien kept his mouth shut and attended assignments and missions as his current High Lord asked him. Because it was his job and he was getting paid. 

Something in his bones told him that the Night Court was not his final stop however. Not to mention the whispers regarding an old affair between High Lord of Day and the Lady of Autumn, and a potential forgotten bastard which may or may not be Lucien himself. But he wasn’t about to go digging into that rumor. Not yet. He had other concerns on his mind.

His russet and gold eyes scanned the crowd as he lazily leaned against the side bar where a spritely little male fae with iridescent wings was serving up alcoholic beverages. Lucien sipped his liquor, eyes falling on her yet again. His mate, Elain.

She flitted around the room gracefully, having polite conversations with all the right people, likely instructed by her sister no doubt. Dressed like a queen in a shimmering dusty pink gown with elaborate beading, and her curly golden hair was piled on her head and framing her face. She fit the part perfectly. A few times she caught him staring, causing them both to quickly avert their eyes. And if he wasn’t mistaken, there were a few times where he caught her staring too.

Lucien watched her dance a few times, biting back his jealously. She partnered with basically every male in the Night Court for at least one dance, including the Shadowsinger with whom she presumably had a brief affair with while Lucien was off in the Mortal Lands. Lucien let out a deep sigh, trying to let go of the building rage.

At least it seemed like it was over now, since Azriel shared multiple dances with the redheaded priestess, their bodies much closer and their posture much more intimate. And a few times, Lucien caught Elain staring at them with a far off look in her eyes.

Still, he made himself scarce around Velaris over the past year, only popping in when he needed to provide reconnaissance information to Rhysand or obtain a new assignment. Elain always seemed to know when he was in town too, because she made herself scarce as well.

Lucien blew out another sigh. She barely gave him the time of day, barely gave him a chance to have a conversation with her. To get to know her. So Lucien had given up for the time being. If she didn’t want him, then so be it. Would he try again in the future? Maybe. He was a patient male. But for now, he planned to spend the rest of the night getting drunk, and possibly wandering off with another female as a distraction.

He had only taken one other female to bed since being mated, a woman actually. A human woman. When he found out about Elain and Azriel, he got drunk in a local human pub and invited some beautiful young thing back to the manor. Did he enjoy it? Not really. It was mostly out of spite.

But if Elain was allowed to move on and dabble as she pleased, then he should be allow to as well. Even though it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same. Not that he had anything real to compare it with. Just his own fantasies. And sometimes inappropriate dreams which made him question reality upon waking.

Lucien finished his drink and then slipped off to use the restroom. He adjusted his black jacket in the mirror, frowning slightly since Feyre politely suggested he wear the Night Court colors while on courtier duty. His pants, also black. His undershirt, dark gray. He preferred the deep vibrant earthen colors of his home court. Greens, browns, oranges, and golds.

He knitted his brows as he thought of the idea that Day Court could possibly be his true home court, and he frowned even more imaging wearing the type of attire that Helion preferred, which was basically fancy table cloths draped over a naked body.

Lucien was a little more reserved than that. He flattened his molten red hair, adjusting the tie which kept it bound in a low pony tail at the nape of his neck, then strolled out of the restroom.

As he thought it over more, he decided he would skip searching for a female companion that night. It would be fairly rude of him to hook up with another female while under the same roof as his mate, even though his mate wasn’t remotely interested in him. He still had manners.

So on his walk back to the ballroom, he figured he would just complete the first part of his initial plan. Get drunk. It was the only thing that would keep him occupied for the rest of the dreadful party.

Lucien squeezed himself through the crowd, trying to get back to his spot at the bar, and noticed Feyre and Nesta standing there waiting for their drinks, having an animated discussion in a flurry of whispers. As he got closer, he caught the tail end of their conversation.

“We should stay out of it,” Nesta said, one hand on her hip.

“They can’t keep dancing around it forever. They just need to talk,” Feyre said.

“Elain would be furious is she knew you were meddling,” Nesta countered.

“Fine, I won’t meddle. But maybe I’ll invite Lucien around more,” Feyre added. “She said she wants him. And we all know he wants her…”

Lucien froze mid-step, eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. They were talking about him. And Elain.

Just then Feyre noticed him, making eye contact over Nesta’s shoulder. Her mouth opened like she was caught spilling a juicy secret. Which indeed she was. Nesta spun around to see Lucien standing there, still frozen in place, still trying to figure out if he heard right.

Nesta kept her face neutral. “How much did you hear?”

The corners of Lucien’s mouth curved upwards slightly. “Elain… wants me?”

Feyre still looked too stunned to speak. So Nesta continued. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Lucien flagged down the bartender and ordered another shot of liquor. He tossed it back, and slid the glass back across the bar. “When have I ever done anything stupid?” He asked with a smirk.

“Lucien…” Feyre finally said, her eyes wide, knowing that she had no control over him now. That is, unless she pulled rank. Which thankfully she did not.

But he was too quick for her to protest. Lucien was already disappearing through the crowd, the plans already unfolding in his head.

She wants me. She wants me. She wants me.

The mating bond which he had tried so hard to keep leashed away was now writhing with anticipation. Instead of making a beeline to Elain, however, he headed for the musicians. He politely stood to the side, waiting for them to finish their song, and then leaned in to whisper his request.

An Autumn Court traditional dance. The musicians nodded in agreement, and one of them smirked knowing the uproar it might cause. The dance itself was actually banned in Dawn Court at one time, about a couple hundred years ago, since the previous High Lord deemed it a little bit too risqué for his liking. Thesan seemed a little more laid back, so Lucien hoped this risk was worth it.

When the musicians started playing the introduction to the song, Lucien caught Thesan’s eye who only popped a curious eyebrow at him. Lucien shrugged innocently, and Thesan thankfully just rolled his eyes. Perfect.

The musicians repeated the intro of the song as the party guests got into position. Two lines, one male and one female or whichever line they chose for those who had other preferences, down the center of the ballroom, their backs facing the center so they didn’t know who their partner would be. That was one of the things that caused the dance to be banned. The random partnering and the scandalous nature of the dance often caused lots of fights.

Most of the guests seemed to know the dance, and many of them bounced excitedly now that the entertainment was going from sleepy to sultry. Lucien’s eyes scanned the lines for Elain, and he noticed her in the female line, excitedly chattering to another fae beside her. Good. She knew the dance.

Lucien strolled over to one of the attendants in the ballroom, asking him to lower the fae lights which caused a few squeals of excitement. Then he worked on unfastening the buttons of his jacket, tossing it aside and rolling up his sleeves. He gave a quick glance back to where Feyre and Nesta stood, now both of their mouths agape as they watched his plan unfold. But they were soon distracted by their own mates dragging them onto the dance floor to get in line.

Finally, Lucien made his way to the line, picking the precise spot across from Elain, shoving another male out of the way. “That’s my mate,” he hissed under his breath. The other male’s face paled and nearly ran off the dance floor.

When the introduction of the song circled around for the final time, both lines turned to face one another. The females curtsied, and the males, they bowed. And when Lucien lifted his face, he locked eyes with Elain. Her lips parted in shock when she noticed he was to be her partner, and a flush quickly bloomed on her cheeks. It was too late for her to back out now, because the song swelled and it was time to begin the dance.

Lucien had four minutes, and he needed to make them count.

- Elain -

It had turned out to be a delightful, yet uneventful evening. Elain did her duties for the Night Court, mingling and charming her way through the crowd, fostering alliances and discretely gathering intel. But by now she was getting awfully sleepy. This had to be one of the most subdued political parties she had ever been to. Generally she preferred the calm, but lately she had been itching for a little excitement.

Over the past year, Feyre and Rhysand had been prepping her and educating her to be a proper courtier. They even started paying her. She researched and studied the history of Prythian, along with customs, holidays, and traditions of each court. She was grateful for the task. Anything to keep her busy and distracted. 

It didn’t take her long to get over Azriel. Their tryst lasted for only a few weeks, and he basically dropped her once his interests switched to another. Gwyneth, the priestess. Nesta’s friend.

So Elain threw herself into the work of researching, which kept her busy and alone at the townhouse instead of up at the House of Wind where they always trained together. In private.

As time wore on, she found her thoughts drifting to Lucien. And yet she was still too cowardly to face him. Because she knew she would likely turn into a bumbling idiot in front of him. Then it just got awkward between them. So it became easier to just avoid him and not say anything.

Then tonight, at the party, he had to show up looking so handsome, so absolutely divine… she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him dressed so finely. Or at all, for that matter. Even though black really wasn’t his color, he pulled it off perfectly. She had to chew the inside of her lip to keep herself from saying anything stupid.

Her sisters had found her all flustered in the corner at one point during the party, and Elain did end up saying something very stupid. She admitted that she wanted Lucien. That she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him for weeks. That she had been trying to purposely run into him whenever he would come back to Velaris, and still he’d avoid her. She instantly regretted telling her sisters, because it instantly turned into a disagreement.

Feyre wanted to help bring Elain and Lucien together, and Nesta was trying to make Feyre stay out of it. To let it happen naturally. So Elain left them to bicker about it while she freshened up in the restroom, trying to regain her composure.

Later in the evening, when the party seemed just about over, the music changed. She immediately recognized it as a traditional Autumn Court song. Luckily, Elain had included song and dance in her studies of Prythian as well. Nesta even let her borrow her Symphonia, and the three sisters would often practice the dances together over the past few months. It was essential for them to know them, if they were meant to be proper courtiers. And the dances were fairly easy to learn since the mimicked many from the human lands, ones that Elain already knew.

Elain bounced with excitement when the song started, knowing that this dance was particularly spicy at times which would bring a little bit more excitement into this otherwise dull evening. She scurried over to get in line, turning her back to the center, chatting with the fae next to her about who their partners could be.

The song started to pick up, and Elain turned around. She gasped when she saw him. Lucien. There was no way she could hide the blush crawling up her neck. He bowed low before her, and she curtsied. As he lifted his head, their eyes met as he looked up at her through his lashes, a slight smirk curving at the corner of his mouth. Her breath caught in her throat.

It was too late now. She couldn’t ditch him alone on the dance floor without causing a scene. Elain swallowed her nervousness and began the dance with him. It started innocent enough, the two of them circling each other without touching, their hands clasped behind their backs, almost like a tease.

He didn’t take his eyes off her. Not once. His gaze was intense, and it seemed to burn her from the inside out. They circled one another, following the footsteps of the dance, slowly closing the distance between them.

Elain felt a shiver down her spine once they were mere inches apart as they continued circling each other, hands still behind their backs. No touching. Not yet. 

They had barely spoken more than a few words over the past year. And yet here he was, bold enough to place himself as her dance partner for one of the most sensual dances of the entire night. A dance from the Autumn Court, no less. And she was starting to think he might’ve requested the song on purpose considering it was vastly different from the music that had been playing all evening.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as the song neared the next part, and she hoped to the gods that she remembered all of the moves so that she didn’t make a fool of herself. Then she held out her hand, and he took it. Skin on skin. They’d never even touched before. Not really. Not like this.

Lucien pulled her into him, one hand held in his and the other on the small of her back, and then they were spinning as he whisked her across the dance floor, following the flow of the other dancers. His form was perfect. So light on his feet that the skirts of her dress swirled around effortlessly, barely touching the floor as they moved.

Next he was spinning her, twirling her out and then pulling her back in, and it nearly took her breath away. The way he slowly dragged his hand up her arm, never breaking eye contact. Her back was pressed against his chest, and they both bent their knees, dipping their hips and rising up slowly as Lucien trailed his hands up her waist. The dance was utterly indecent, and she could feel herself burning up even more.

Lucien was spinning her again, then his leg was between hers as he dipped her, his hand cupping the back of her neck. Her back arched as he guided her up to standing position again. And then it was her turn to slide her leg between his. She leaned forward into him as he leaned back, her hand sliding up his chest and behind his neck. He bit his lip, his eyes leaving hers only for a moment to watch her hand move up his body.

The next part of the dance was similar to the beginning, where they separated and circled another again. But all Elain could think about was getting her hands on him again. And she did, because this part had them them flush against one another, chest to chest, her arms draped over his shoulders and his wrapped around her waist. Then his hands were gripping her middle as he lifted her up off her feet and spun her. And again they bent their knees, swaying down low, legs intertwined as they slowly rose back up. Elain gasped as Lucien rolled his hips into hers.

Around and around they continued, Elain feeling more and more flustered with every touch, every glance. Lucien knew exactly what he was doing. How he was affecting her. Their faces were barely an inch apart at times, his scent swirling in her senses. His hands leaving a hot trail of fire as they snaked across her body.

As the end of the song neared, the spins and dips drew their bodies even closer. Deeper. His hand was on her face. Their eyes locked as they moved. And still they hadn’t even said a word. Elain’s eyes flickered to his mouth, suddenly driven by an intense desire to taste him. Her eyes fell lower, down to his neck, and then lower, noticing the way the top few buttons of his shirt opened to reveal his collarbone. He tracked her gaze, and his smirk returned.

After one of the final spins, he pulled her in close, so close that she could feel his breath on her ear, his nose gently drawing a line along the skin of her neck, and she thought she might just melt into a puddle at his feet. His hands slid down her waist once more, but then one of his hands kept going lower until it reached her thigh. He hiked her leg up around his waist, as far as her dress would allow, and dipped her one final time, his other hand finding its way back up to cup her neck.

Lucien held her there as the song ended. They were nose to nose. Short pieces of hair had come unbound from his ponytail, framing his face, and she saw a bead of glistening sweat drip down his neck. Elain’s chest heaved, and her lips were parted as she tried to catch her breath. She was exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

Her eyes were on his mouth again and he arched an eyebrow at her. She blinked her eyes a few times, trying to get herself out of the daze, and she finally stood back up straight. When Lucien let her go, she felt empty, and she almost whined at the loss of touch from him. She was embarrassed that the bond had such an affect on her, and her cheeks were still flushed pink as evidence.

The musicians continued on to the next song, and half of the other couples continued dancing while the others left the dance floor. Elain and Lucien just stood there for a moment until he gave her a polite bow.

“Thanks for the dance, lady,” Lucien said, smirking again. Then he disappeared through the crowd, leaving Elain standing flabbergasted in the middle of the dance floor.

She needed a drink. And fresh air. Immediately.