Chapter Text
ELAIN
She was slightly anxious the whole carriage ride as town streets turned to farms and fields and then to hills and valleys. There was simply so much they’d had to extricate themselves from in the middle of Solstice season, Elain had thought several times that they should really call the whole thing off. Nesta was just a few months pregnant and horribly sick in the mornings, sometimes only able to keep down the soothing bone broths Elain made her from scratch; Nyx was going through his first few challenges with his schooling and consequently driving court tutors to madness; Feyre and Rhys had their hands full and heads spinning with a squabbling pack of High Lords and uneasy, bickering detente with the human queens.
Elain had been soothing and tending and chipping in and charming her ass off anyone that needed it. “I just don’t know if it’s such a good idea for us to leave now ,” she’d said to her mate, though it pained her to rain on his parade.
Lucien was still splitting his time between Day and the apartment they were renting in Velaris, though Elain knew the constant winnowing didn’t always help with the question of what, exactly, to do about his inheritance: the title of Day Court Prince, Helion’s pride and joy, the golden boy he would have been, had he been allowed to grow up by his father’s side. The High Lord of Day seemed to have an endless fount of ideas on what Lucien should learn about in Day’s libraries, or why it was very important for him to accompany Helion to a trade meeting, or any number of other reasons to invite the current emissary of Night to stay another day, week, month.
Elain knew there was no reason Lucien needed to keep going on Rhys’s nosy little reconnaissance missions or put up with the polite friendlessness that faced him in Velaris - just as she knew her mate still could not take the final step into the place Helion offered to him, the path that seemed to be open after so many decades thinking he deserved so little. It was Lucien who perhaps needed to spend more time communicating with his relatives and trusted friends this Solstice, and of course it was Lucien most convinced they should leave, Cauldron boil them all, because they wanted to and because they could.
“It’s never a good time for a vacation,” Lucien told her before they left. “Which is why you have to take them.”
“That’s not an answer,” Elain said loftily. “I think it’s you trying to avoid a Solstice visit with Helion.”
“Forget Helion,” her mate said. “It’s me trying to whisk my gorgeous mate away for some actual peace and quiet.”
And in the end, she’d agreed with him, in her heart of hearts so craving a day or two to just themselves. Lucien spared no expense or comfort, ever gallant and also very dramatic about his holiday plans; he worked with court engineers to spell their carriage against the winter cold so that he and Elain could enjoy a cozy, comfortable ride to their destination, laden with trunks of likely unnecessary furs and blankets and books and tea. He knew Elain still preferred real-time travel to winnowing, and he also knew it was a simple pleasure for her to not have to pack light. Across from her in the carriage, he sat with one hand stroking her own, eyes bright as he peered out the window.
“Tell me again,” Elain said softly, “what this place is like.”
“I don’t want to build your hopes too high,” Lucien said gaily, clearly proud of what he’d planned anyway. “After all, it was a suggestion from Eris, of all people.” It was his brooding, severe half-brother who’d told Lucien about the town and the inn, the mountain and the springs before it, about a day’s ride Northeast into the Continent. Only the Mother knew how, exactly, Eris had acquired this information, but Eris had heard about Elain’s dreamy musings on travel, exploring beautiful places and getting to know new people. Lucien expected it was ultimately fondness for Elain and not himself that had so inspired this exclusive recommendation.
“That’s why I know it’ll be just perfect,” Elain countered. “Any place on the Continent notable enough for Eris Vanserra must be pretty breathtaking.”
“It’s only a town,” Lucien said, grinning. “A town he happened to know, by a mountain, populated by quiet mountain people he probably terrified.”
Elain curled closer to him and sighed. “Quiet people, how lovely,” she said. “What if I never want to return?”
Lucien dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I’m sure I could handle your correspondence, be your emissary.”
“No, I’ll make sure you’re enchanted into following my every step,” his mate replied. “So you can never leave my side.”
He turned and let himself take a deep whiff of her hair and pearled, soft skin. “No enchantment needed, mate.”
LUCIEN
When they arrived, however, Elain seemed more jittery, unfocused energy leaking from her. To the small group who greeted them at the lodge they had arranged, she was as ethereally gracious and poised as ever; she had always been able to hide any discomfort behind good manners, even when Lucien encouraged her to let her newly fiery Fae emotions out once in a while. He could see her stray thoughts in the firm clasp of her palms as she oversaw the porters and received their tour of their rooms; he knew the way she swiped swiftly but impatiently to tuck her hair behind her ear.
When their things had all been unloaded and still she bit at her plush lower lip, Lucien stepped to her side and offered his arm. “And what do you think?” he said. “Is it all to your liking?”
The sun had set over an hour ago, so they would not see the surrounding woods and slopes until the next morning. But the winter lodge beckoned: clean well-planed oak and other unfamiliar wood on smooth stone; long, rectangular glass windows with screens drawn; a few touches that felt local to this town and culture, like woven mats on the floor between fine rugs, beds and tables spacious but lower to the ground; gorgeous, delicately hand-painted panels splitting parts of rooms from each other, so that the lamp and candlelight cast shadows from room to room. It was like they were visiting a museum for the first time, but at night.
“Oh Lucien, it’s lovely,” Elain said immediately, turning her face to his. Her hair was gilded and honeyed in the candlelight, the fur at her collar and cuffs only accentuating the unmarred, rosy softness of her skin. His breath caught; every day there were still moments where he could not believe his good fortune, being the male the Mother had chosen for her mate.
He drew her close in the privacy of their suite, circling his arms around her. Elain was always so poised and graceful, her beauty practically otherworldly even for High Fae, that it was like a special secret to know how warm and thrumming with life and laughter she could be. Lucien placed his lips beneath her ear and kissed the skin there just once, mainly unable to keep from nibbling at her when he got the chance. Elain giggled. “You deserve the loveliest, as the loveliest,” he said, relieved to hear it.
“You might want to work on that line a little,” Elain whispered, and suddenly her cool, soft hands were slipping under his shirt, pulling at the waistband of his trousers. “But I wonder what else I deserve.” Lucien sucked in a breath, the lavender sweetness of the oils she used in her hair dizzying him with desire. He could carry her over to the bed in just a few steps and show her exactly what he thought of that. But - and Lucien was very pissed at himself for being unable to let this go - he did have a plan for the night.
“My dearest mate,” he said through gritted teeth. “They’re about to call us down for dinner.”
She pulled back and looked at him, no doubt remembering all the times they’d pretended to lose track of the clock behind closed doors. “Ah, Lucien the well-behaved guest tonight?”
He clasped her hand in his, pressed another kiss to her palm. “Just Lucien your mate,” he said. “The one who really wants you to have the perfect holiday.”
“Just me and my mate,” Elain said. “Already perfect.”
They made their way back to the central building, where lodge attendees directed them west, for dining. Lucien was sure there was less tension in the set of Elain’s shoulders and the step of her shoes upon the stone. But as they sat at the long, low table in an elegant, screened-off room, he thought perhaps she was a little quiet. In this part of the Continent, ceremonial and formal dining was done with shoes removed, sitting in cushions very close to or on the floor. Elain was the picture of grace, folding her legs underneath her, spreading out the skirt of the classic, simple dress she’d chosen for dinner. Too quiet, Lucien thought.
“You’re thinking hard, my love,” Lucien said. “I can almost hear it.”
A faint flush of color came to her cheeks. Her hair was pulled up behind her ears, the creamy skin of her neck exposed so that he longed to touch her. “I am wondering,” Elain said, “if Cassian will remember to prepare Nesta the footbath that’s been helping her.” She paused. “Perhaps I didn’t leave him enough salts for it.”
Before he could reply, a soft bell rang out, and porcelain trays faded into appearance for their first course, with a delicately painted teapot and small, perfectly sculpted cups. Lucien watched Elain’s face light up with curiosity in spite of herself. Few ever noticed that of her three sisters, Elain was the one most suited to new travel, with an adventurous palate and a natural talent for learning languages. Tiny, gilded-edge cards next to each plate read out the particulars of each unfamiliar dish: pink-tinged, leaflike slivers of raw fish; black soy beans in a medium-sweet marinade; a mysterious, creamy substance revealed to be sea urchin, balanced over a splash of vinaigrette. Lucien poured his mate a steaming cup of tea while she studied the ingredients. “I wonder,” he said, “If you’d feel better, knowing that your sisters have already told me to make sure you spend as little time worrying over them as possible.”
Elain paused, a card in her hand. “But we’ve only just arrived.”
Lucien tapped at his temple. “Feyre gave me one last reminder in secret, just as we were pulling out of town.” He gestured to the table, knowing his mate loved the surprise of trying a dish she’d never had. “After you?”
Elain took small portions of everything in front of them before helping herself. Lucien did the same, watching her take her first bite before lifting the sea urchin to his own lips. He’d had some in dishes along the coast, but only this region served it cold, with these exact touches, salt and cream and unmistakable ocean on the back of his tongue.
Elain shut her eyes and gave a small moan at the taste, the sound immediately stoking a spark low in Lucien’s belly. “This is incredible,” Elain said, ignoring what he’d said about Feyre’s message. “I want a spoonful and I want to eat it after every meal, like ice cream.”
“I thought you’d like it,” Lucien said. “We should tell Tarquin - he’s got other varieties and he loves when guests appreciate it.”
Elain licked up the last bit, the sight of her tongue once again snapping Lucien to attention like a young male who’d never so much as touched a female. She was finally relaxing and he was, in turn, growing more than a little aroused watching her. “So you’d use me to flatter his court, then negotiate the floor out from under him,” she said with a teasing smile. “You really are learning that Day Court charm.”
Lucien scoffed. “I was plenty charming before all this, as I think you know.” He knew Elain was only trying to help him, wanting nothing more than for Lucien to feel more comfortable in his skin around Helion and his Day Court magic. But he still felt his heart beat quicker and more erratically every time he thought about Helion and what he offered with open arms. Around the High Lord, he felt clumsy and unpracticed, his decades of silver-tongued politics suddenly crumbling in the face of the truth about his own father. Sometimes when Helion looked at him and smiled, his pride and joy plain as the morning, Lucien felt the unexplainable urge to take his mate and winnow far, far away, somewhere where no one but Elain knew his name.
Across the table, his mate was helping herself to the delicate pieces of fish, each seasoned so lightly only the flavor of the flesh itself burst upon your tongue. Her heart-shaped mouth curved into a smile. “I didn’t think we’d eat so much raw,” Elain said.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll have your share.” Lucien grinned back at her.
“Nice try, mate, but I’ll be coming after yours.” She paused to take a sip of the tea, eyelids fluttering shut as she took a breath of the steam. “I’ll tell you what,” she said suddenly, Lucien still chewing but nodding for her to go on. “I will try my best to keep my mind off my sisters--”
“And your nephew.”
“Off my family’s… business,” Elain agreed, “ if you try your best to spend some time with Helion this winter. Not as emissary, or as student,” she added, as Lucien opened his mouth to protest. “Just… go to dinner, or go out on his boat.” She shrugged. “You know… talk to him.”
Lucien put a piece of fish in his mouth and let it melt into his tongue before replying. “You drive a hard bargain, my love.”
“I learn from the best,” Elain said politely. “They say he’s one of the most cunning, savvy courtiers around.”
“Ah, that rake,” Lucien said. “Does he live up to the rumors?”
Elain’s eyes met his over the rim of her cup, dark and deep, and suddenly Lucien was fully hard; something about her legs tucked neatly to the side, her quiet poise, the exposed nape of her neck inexplicably, deeply arousing to him.
“Oh yes,” Elain said lightly. “Every single one, I’m afraid.”
They returned to their rooms sated, Elain exclaiming over each new dish she’d tried for the first time: grilled, tender fish from the lake just below them, sweet potato and carrot fried in a fluffy, crunchy batter, and, her favorite, eggs cooked in natural spring waters, tinted by the volcanic minerals left in the ground. They were rumored by locals to give you a longer life. “And we ate so much, but everything was so light,” Elain was saying, a hand to her stomach. “I feel as if we’ve been dining on the nectar of the gods.”
“I thought you’d like trying it all,” Lucien said, beaming back at her. “I asked for their most traditional tasting menu.”
“It’s wonderful,” Elain sighed. “This is a wonderful place.” She stepped over to a floor-length mirror propped up on the far wall of their bedchamber, framed in dark teak and large enough to hold both their images standing side by side. “I don’t know if I’m quite ready to go to sleep yet,” she continued, taking off her earrings.
“I’m not done with your vacation surprises,” Lucien countered smoothly. He’d slipped a few choice items into their trunks and presented them now with a cheeky grin: two plush, luxurious bathrobes, embroidered with their initials and trimmed with gold and russet red. “Put this on for me and follow me into the bathroom?” He shed his own clothes and stepped quickly into the next chamber, not at all confident he could watch her undress without abandoning the rest of his carefully laid plans.
“Where did you even get these?” Elain’s laughter followed him. Lucien placed a hand on a panel next to the wash basin and pushed, as he’d been instructed; immediately a hidden door swung back, revealing a bamboo-lined passageway and smooth stone tile.
“Did that just appear out of nowhere?”
He turned to see his mate in the doorway, slender wrists lined with the wool he’d had specially shipped, neck and chest and ears slightly pink from the rice wine they’d sipped with their dinner. Lucien could smell her jasmine and honey and unmistakably Elain scent, seemingly everywhere around him now that only the robes covered her smooth skin; he swallowed, trying to keep himself from pushing her onto the bed after all. “One more new thing I think you’ll like,” he said. “Trust me.”
She took his hand and stepped into the passageway.
ELAIN
Elain heard it before she saw where, exactly, they were going: a soft echo of water against stone, like pebbles lightly caressed on a beach or boats kissed by the tide. It was confusing, given that they were still clearly in some wing of the lodge, though windowless now, so she wasn’t sure which way they were walking. They rounded the corner, and she gave a little gasp, feeling her mate’s amusement ripple down the bond. “Oh, Lucien,” Elain said. “We’ll have to give Eris the best belated Solstice present ever.”
They had entered a bath house built into the lodge, bringing elements indoors so that pools of water were bordered by natural rock and plants grew through slats in the floor. But the whole wing was comfortably heated, with a low ceiling and one large, diamond-shaped window above the water. Moonlight shone upon snow-covered trees on the slope outside, so that they didn’t need any lamp lit from indoors, and the only sound apart from the water was a brisk winter wind jostling branches against the glass. Steam rose from the edges of one or two of the clear, calm pools.
Lucien had come up behind her to shrug her robe off her shoulders and kiss the back of her neck. “May I remind you,” he said, voice low and a little rougher, “which Vanserra you should be thinking about just now.” Elain shivered.
“How do they keep it so warm?” she said, his proximity compelling her to keep her voice near a whisper.
“These are natural springs,” he said, lips running across the slope of her shoulder as he drew her robe further down. Elain felt the brush of his fingers down her spine, like the lick of a flame in the pit of her stomach. “The lodge was built around them, so that heat from the mountains and the spring warm our rooms as well.”
She’d heard of this town’s famous natural hot springs, but had assumed they’d take a trip to bathe there the next day. Instead, they could walk straight over from their rooms. Elain turned to look at her mate, the robe slipping past her hips. He was fully nude, and having him so close to her always made her heart pound, as if it was her first time seeing him. Lucien ducked and pressed a kiss to her bared collarbone. “And if the other guests walk in and see my mate behaving rakishly?” she gasped, running her hand down the flexing, firm muscles of his back.
“I’ve booked the entire wing for tonight, of course,” Lucien murmured, tracing his lips down to one and then the other breast. He ran a tongue around each nipple before mouthing them, then immediately, frustratingly moving on. Elain’s breath was coming short and sharp by the time he pulled away and whispered in her ear. “So that nobody can hear my sweet mate.” He drew an earlobe between his teeth, and Elain half-yelped, half-laughed in surprise. “Or the sweet sounds she makes.”
“Lucien,” she scolded, a little shakily. “Are you going to let me get in the baths, like you planned?”
Lucien was kissing her neck, and didn’t stop to sweep her into his arms, kicking their robes aside and heading for one of the steaming pools. Elain giggled when he waded in but held her up so that only her feet broke the surface, teasing her with the delicious warmth on her toes. He deposited her at the water’s edge, her legs dangling in the spring while he stood waist-deep and looked at her appreciatively. “Well?” he said, teeth gleaming in the light from the window. Steam rose from the surface of the water, curling his wild hair at the tips. “Is my mate enjoying herself?”
“I would if my mate would let me get in there with him,” Elain said, suspecting he was playing another kind of game perching her on the edge like this. Lucien dipped his head beneath the water and resurfaced with a sigh, pushing his braided hair back from his face. Droplets slid from his brow and nose and lips, and Elain’s breath caught at how lovely her mate looked, lit by just a shaft of moonlight. “No fair,” she murmured.
“My mate thinks I’m being unfair,” Lucien said, stepping closer in the water. Elain flicked a foot in his direction and he caught it easily, drew his cheek and lips against the skin of her ankle, nipped at her Achilles tendon. She squeaked and he grinned up at her. “What could I do to make it up to her?”
“She’d like you to be nicer to her,” Elain said, pretending to pout. Lucien’s hands had caught both her calves and were massaging the day’s tension out of them, drifting to her feet and kneading the soreness from her soles. It was all she could do not to close her eyes and tip her head back with a groan.
“Nicer,” Lucien repeated, as if considering it. “I can be quite nice.” His hands, warm and rough, but always gentle with her, drifted up the backs of her knees, stroking up around her hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the pool. He bent to nudge her legs apart with kisses to the inside of each knee. Without warning, he nipped sharply at her inner thigh, making Elain cry out, whole body tightening with heat.
“That’s not nice,” she said, flustered, chest heaving. Lucien was already soothing the hurt spot with his tongue. He pulled back and the look in his eyes made Elain’s pulse jump, her whole body trembling at his touch like a moth before the flame.
“Then why do you like it so much, Elain?” Without taking his eyes from her, Lucien sank a finger into her center, both of them inhaling sharply as he did.
“Gods, you’re wet,” Lucien hissed. She could only scoot forward, desperate for more. “Is this all for me?” he said, voice tight like he could barely speak. Her lashes fluttered closed as she squeezed tight around his finger.
“Yes,” she said, dreamily; her mate liked to ask, and she liked to please him. “Yes, since dinner.”
Lucien added another finger, and her mouth fell open as he worked her, the relief of him touching her with his warm hands cut by how tight and neglected her nipples felt, bared to the cool air. “Cauldron, Elain,” her mate was saying. “I wanted to take you right there on the floor next to our table.” A splash in the water in front of her - he’d lowered one arm and was fisting himself under the surface. “You’ve been so patient, then.”
A soft whimper left her lips, her eyes still shut. Elain loved when he spoke to her like this while they made love, something they’d been playing with for a while now. It was unbelievable to her, how much her mate could drive her to this heady, floating place with desire, just by the way he touched and talked to her.
“Yes,” Lucien continued. “And patience-” He pulled his fingers from her, reached up to press them firmly to her tongue- “Deserves a reward, I think.” Elain obediently closed her lips around them to suck, whining just a little at their loss, the taste of her own arousal only intensifying her need. To do good, to get rewarded. Her thoughts swirled, the golden beating of their bond glowing softly just behind her eyelids. Lucien was stepping closer, pressing kisses to the seam where her body met her thighs. “What do you think, mate?”
“I’d like that,” Elain said quickly. Lucien was smiling at her, slowly, gently lifting each of her legs over his shoulders in the water. “Please.”
“So sweet,” her mate murmured, and Elain felt a shiver go through her just as Lucien bent and pressed his lips to her cunt. She cried out, voice echoing against rock and lapping water on tile, burying both hands in his hair as Lucien swirled his tongue around her clit. He pressed his hands against her hips and gave a rumbling groan at the rush of wetness that met him, his movements maddeningly slow. Delirious with sensation, Elain looked down at him and remembered how carefully and artfully he’d placed each piece of fish into his mouth at dinner, savoring the taste; his eyes were shut now, as if the taste of her was melting on his tongue just the same. “Gods, Lucien,” she said, feeling so empty it almost hurt. A wordless plea escaped her next as he worked his tongue into her, stroking her once, twice, before returning to her apex. He drew back for air, eyes fixed between her legs and looking a little addled himself.
“You’re being so sweet, my mate,” he said again, voice ragged now. “So good.” He slipped two fingers knuckle-deep in her again, watched her groan and met her eyes with his own blown pupils, lips glistening. “There you go.”
“Please,” Elain said again, hands on the stone beside her, entire body arched toward him. He was fucking his fingers into her, slowly but firmly, winding her tighter and higher with each second.
“Yes,” Lucien said, and then he was sucking his lips around her clit, pressing into it with the flat of his tongue, and Elain squeezed down against his fingers and fell completely to pieces. The slide of his tongue on top of and down the sides of her clit, the steady thrust of his fingers into her - Elain was shaking as she came, breasts tipped toward the ceiling, gasping and sobbing and unable to move from where he’d pinned her against the rock. “Lucien, Lucien,” she gasped, as waves of pleasure crashed through her and she could do nothing but take them. And then her mate was finally, finally lifting her into the warm, soothing water, the sensation lulling her like an embrace.
“Elain, my love, you did so well,” Lucien was saying, arms around her in the water now as they drifted toward the center of the pool. Heavy-lidded, Elain sighed into his kiss, his lips soft and warm against hers. They were slowly, steadily surrounded by a blanket of steam.
Elain’s fingers twined into his hair like she might lose him, her tongue finally caressing his. In the afterglow of her orgasm, the golden, shining bond behind her ribs began to pulse so wildly and so bold against her chest that she needed him again, desperately. She put her legs around him and reached down to wrap her fingers around his cock, firm and smooth and proud against her navel. Lucien groaned and leaned his forehead against her. “Good, that’s so good,” he said, eyes rolled back in his head as she gave a few experimental strokes.
“Lucien,” she said, trying to focus him. “I need you.” She guided him to her, rubbed his head against where she was still slick between her folds, and the both of them moaned. He nodded and reached down, and then grabbed her hips and thrust himself inside her.
Elain sighed with the relief of him inside her, and for a moment wanted nothing more than just that, the two of them joined, the way he filled her. Lucien held her suspended in the water against him, lips against her hair, a rumble of contentment escaping him before he began to slowly thrust into her over and over. She was literally floating, pleasure sweeping through her as Lucien buried himself inside her, angling to hit places they didn’t normally reach in bed. Her mate was moaning, a stream of praise and curses falling from his lips; she didn’t know if it was his very vocal appreciation for her cunt, or the perfectly soothing warmth of the water around her, but she felt loose-limbed and heavy with arousal, balanced on a knife’s edge, holding desperately onto him.
“Lucien,” she said again, lazily; she was thinking she’d like to have him like this all day and all night, sliding in and out of her, the pleasure washing up her spine. “I love having you in me.”
“Are you going to come with me inside you?” her mate mouthed clumsily against her neck, sucking against her damp skin. “Are you going to come again for me, Elain?”
Elain could only sob in response until Lucien reached down and pressed two fingers against her clit, groaning when she rutted against them by instinct, grabbing his shoulders and fucking herself onto him. With a curse Lucien jerked forward, spilling inside of her, and pulling himself even deeper, and then she was coming, too, the both of them clutching each other in the water while she shrieked with the force of it. Arms shaking with his own orgasm, Lucien fucked her through hers, holding her close, whispering into her hair, the warmth of the water leaving her so lightheaded that she was happy to be held steady in his arms.
When Elain caught her breath, they were standing against the wall of the pool again, both their chests heaving. Lucien leaned in and gave her a long, languid kiss. “Elain,” he said. “I love you so dearly.”
“I love you, mate,” she said, flush with the joy, finally, of having him to herself. “One whole week of this?”
“If I survive it,” Lucien panted, and then caught her eye, and the two of them burst out laughing. Elain kissed him, and then pulled him close and kissed him again. “I think,” she said, giggling, “They are all going to be very lucky if we decide to ever return.”