“To the stars who listen, and the dreams that are answered.”
You probably would’ve guessed, A Court of Mist and Fury is no doubt, my best book of 2016. It’s exceptionally mind-blowing. The world-building, character developments, twists and turns, banters, magic system. Everything was just fantastically crafted. Big thanks to queen Sarah J. Maas for creating such a masterpiece. The wait for A Court of Wings and Ruin is real. Are you ready?
What’s your top book of 2016? I’m not surprised if it’s ACOMAF too *smirks like Rhysand*
you know how some people talk about how lucien could become the new high lord of spring with elain at his side but do you want to know what i’d really like to see if they end up ruling that court? elain getting the powers and becoming the first high lady that the magic chose. it’s been said that spring was made for her and lucien is already the heir to the day court, meaning he will be its high lord someday so
“I’m fine,” Elain said quietly. And then asked, noticing the gore on him, the torn clothes and still-bloody weapons, “Are you—” “Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but … yes, I’m in one piece.” A faint smile bloomed on Elain’s lips.
friendly reminder that the latest acotar book gave us:
It wasn’t a guarantee that a High Lord’s firstborn would be his heir. The magic sometimes took a while to decide, and often jumped around the birth order completely. Sometimes it found a cousin instead. Sometimes it abandoned the bloodline entirely.
(Nesta about Spring Court) Elain would love this place. So many flowers, all in bloom, so much green—the light, vibrant green of new grass—so many birds singing and such warm, butterly sunshine. But Elain… The Spring Court had been made for someone like her.
(Cassian about Elain in Hewn City) He’d never once in two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court… It sucked the life from her.
and with helion not looking like he’s going anywhere, tamlin abandoning his court, rhysand needing it intact for the future, lucien being back there and everyone insisting on him staying… make room for the new high lord and high lady of the spring court.
Again, I just wanted to thank everyone who read this fic, the love and support I got was absolutely phenomenal and more than I ever could have imagined. I have honestly loved reading your comments, they always brought such joy and put a smile on my face.
You have given me so much confidence in writing my own original fiction. So thank you, thank you, thank you.
I hope you enjoyed the ending, and I promise, all those ghastly loose ends will be tied up in the Epilogue!
Thanksvember 19 is The Right Swipe! I really enjoyed this take on the inner circle mixed with the super modern online dating plot. I especially love that @redisriding created genuinely realistic characters (body issues, social anxiety etc). Great read!
They’re yet to accept the bond but it’s arguably the strongest I’ve read about in the ACOTAR universe.
He declared her his mate the moment they looked into each other’s eyes.
I know there is an assumption that Elain’s turning Fey initiated the mating bond but how do we know that for certain. This was the first time they were both in the same room as each other and Lucien acknowledged the bond the first time he looked into her eyes. What’s to say this wouldn’t have happened regardless of Elain being changed fey. We can’t know because Elain’s changing was also the first time she’d ever met Lucien.
He was able to break the kings restraints to walk to Elain. No one else in the room was strong enough to do this except Lucien and when he broke the restraints Tamlin looked shocked as to how he could. Does this mean his bond to Elain is stronger than two high lords power? Because that’s a VERY strong bond…
Elain can feel the mating bond between her and Lucien to. She can hear his heart beating and when Lucien tugged on the bond she felt a tugging feeling around her heart. She might not understand the mating bond or even agree with it but she hasn’t denied feeling the bond.
I can understand the mating bond being wrong/faulty and I can understand the mating bond being rejected.
What I can’t understand is the mating bond being rejected when both sides are feeling such strong effects of it.
The strength of the bond has obviously caused Elain to avoid Lucien to the point where she refuses to get to know him and find out if she even likes him as a friend.
I wonder how Lucien and Elain would have reacted to one another if the mating bond didn’t exist or if Lucien hadn’t said they were mates. If Elain hadn’t felt forced toward Lucien would they actually be friends?
Rhys didn’t tell Feyre they were mates because he didn’t think she was ready to know. What might have happened if he’d declared them mates under the mountain after Feyre was changed fey? Would she have reacted like Elain has to Lucien? Would she have felt scared and stayed in the spring court with Tamlin?
How would Nesta reacted if Cassian had told her they were mates pre ACOSF?
With Elain’s Trauma and inexperience with the fey all the mating bond has done so far is create a wall between the two.
She refuses to get to close to Lucien because of the bond.
I personally think that Lucien and Elain’s bond is so strong it’s actually scared Elain from getting to know Lucien therefore causing any possible relationship between them to stall for however long it takes Elain to stop fearing/ resenting the bond.
Even Lucien was rattled by the fact he feels a stronger connection to Elain than his late wife and he was born fey.
If the bond didn’t exist between Lucien and Elain would Elain have visited the Spring Court? Or has the mating bond restricted her to the Night Court?
Despite her rebelling against the mating bond she still allows him to come visit on holidays and hasn’t rejected the bond.
I hear people saying if they were canon there relationship would have progressed more by now but how can they have any progression until Elain stops avoiding Lucien? There relationship can only evolve when Elain finally talks to Lucien.
Mother’s brow was creased in that way it always did when she was worried. She gripped my hand, tugging me through the endless halls, surprisingly quick despite her growing belly.
We stopped outside of Father’s study and she turned to me, brushing off the shoulders of my new leather jacket she’d insisted I wear.
“Mama, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head, taking my hand again, and leading me into Father’s study.
Father rose from his desk, pressing a kiss to Mother’s furrowed brow, then bending to press another to her belly. “Is there a reason for this interruption, my love? Have you settled on a punishment?”
I cringed. A week ago, Mother had caught me and Mor sliding down the oiled ramps of the library, bringing scholars and priestesses tumbling after us. My parents still hadn’t decided on a good punishment.
“He’s coming with me to the Illyian camp. I want him to learn of my people.”
“And when was this decided?”
“I decided it. Our belongings are already there.”
“Who said you could go?”
“I am the Lady of the Night Court. I don’t have to answer to anyone.”
I could almost see Father’s temper start to rise. He had been in a good mood until the word Illyrian slipped from Mother’s mouth. “You have to answer to me. You are no High Lady.”
“I am your mate and I will be doing what’s best for our child.” Her hand tightened around mine. “We’ll be leaving now. You are free to visit.”
“Ellie–”
She set me on her hip, marching to the large window in the back of the study.
Father started shouting, “Don’t you take one more step. Ellisya–”
She took off in a gust of wind.
The last thing I saw was Father, raking his hands through his hair, his desk thrown on its side.
*****
“Why is it so muddy?” I asked Mother as we strode towards the camp, kicking the squelching dirt beneath my new boots. Everything I wore today was new–boots, leather pants, and a jacket to go with it.
“Because when the snow melts, it wets the dirt.” She stopped so suddenly I almost slipped. Just outside of the line of tents and buildings, she knelt in front of me.
“Mama, you’ll get the mud on your knees–”
“Hush, Rhysand, I need you to listen to me very closely.” She combed my hair with her fingers. “You will go into this camp and you will train as the other boys your age do. You’re not special here. You will get spat on, beaten, and dirtied and you will learn. I will not be able to help you.” She cupped my face in her hands as I felt myself tensing. “I will be in the biggest house on the south side. Find me once you’re done.” With that, she stood, looking down at me. “Summon your wings.”
“But, Mama–”
“Summon your wings, Rhysand.”
My lip wobbled at the harshness of her tone but I did as she said.
She let go of me completely. “Wipe your tears away and hurry along. I’ll have supper ready when you get back.”
I indeed wiped at my eyes, taking in a shaky breath. Mother didn’t say anything else as I turned away.
I hoped my face was clean when I strode into the camp. There, a tall man found me, his greying beard doing nothing to make him look friendlier. He stared down his crooked nose at me. “What’s your name, soldier?”
I had never been called soldier before. “Rhysand.”
His thin lips nearly disappeared. “And why aren’t you with the other boys, Rhysand?”
“I–”
“Go before I give you the lashing you deserve.”
I scrambled away, running towards where I saw a few boys around my age.
They were on some sort of lunch break, chatting noisily with each other. I hovered between two tables, looking for possibly someone to sit with.
A hand tapped my shoulder.
I turned and the first thing I saw was the grin that could cut steel. The boy looked no different than all the others except for that and the feral thing that danced in his hazel eyes.
“You’re new,” he said, eyeing me.
I shifted on my feet, not enjoying the way he was looking at me. “So?”
“I challenge you.”
“Pardon me?”
“I challenge you to a fight. If I win, I get those fancy clothes.”
“I don’t want to fight.”
“Oh, don’t be a bore.”
I frowned, but my father had taught me never to back down from a challenge. “What about if I win? What do I get?”
The boy winked. “All the riches in the world.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I know. Come on.”
We squared off in one of the rings for the older boys. I set my feet as I assumed was right, but the boy’s were in a different position. In fact, they were lifting from the ground and–
He slammed his fist into my jaw. Pain, like I’d never felt before, shattered through my skull as I collapsed. I barely registered the other blows the boy rained, barely reminded myself to put my hands up.
The world went black for a moment but a swift punch to my ribs had me back up again. My face was wet. I didn’t know if I was sobbing, or if it was blood.
Then, as swiftly as it began, it was over, one of the warriors yanking the boy off of me. I blinked the black spots from my vision as I, too, was hauled to my feet.
“What the hell did I say about fighting?” shouted the man that had called me soldier.
“Devlon–” the boy started to say but he had no pity.
“Ten lashes, each of you. To the posts, now!”
I stumbled after the boy as he sulked over to a large wooden post. I stood awkwardly next to him, not quite sure what was going on.
“What are you staring at?” he snapped. “Go to your post.”
I saw then the twin post beside his and went to it, looking at the warriors who had gathered with frowning faces.
“Take off your shirt and jacket,” one of them said.
The boy beside me already moved to the task but I hesitated. “What?”
“Did I stutter, boy? Take ‘em off.”
I obeyed, finally understanding when a warrior grabbed my wrists, yanking them to hug the pole.
They were going to whip us.
“Wait!” I shouted. “Wait, no! You can’t do this!”
“And why not?” Devlon purred, walking around the post so I could see him.
Beside me, I heard the boy scream in pain. “Because I’m Rhysand! My father is the High Lord!”
Devlon laughed, a deep, cruel sound. “You think that matters here, boy? You are nothing but a halfbreed.”
I screamed at the first strike of the whip.
*****
Mother tended to the wounds on my back while I cried.
“I don’t wanna go back, Mama,” I sobbed. “I want to go home.”
“I know, my love. Today was bad, but it will get easier.”
My face, luckily, had mostly healed on its own. Mother hadn’t liked it one bit when I told her about the boy, but I never did get to give him my clothes.
Mother made dinner for us, or rather, it appeared on the table. I shovelled the food eagerly into my mouth but when I reached for seconds, Mother slapped my hand away. “You’ve had enough. Go get your books.”
I grumbled, sliding out of the chair to fetch them. I joined her by the window, the camp bustling below us. I was just about to start reading aloud to her when something outside caught my eye.
The boy who’d beaten me was trudging through the snow to a line of shabby tents.
“What is he doing?” I asked Mother.
She shrugged. “Bastards are given nothing. They are to find their own food and their own shelter. If he ever gets to the war bands, he’ll have those but he’ll be bottom ranking forever. Until then, he’ll stay out in the cold.”
Unease settled in my stomach but I stayed quiet. I went through my lesson with Mother until we’d finished the chapter. She tucked me into bed, pressing a kiss to my brow before slipping out.
I tossed and turned for what could have been hours. I had food; I had shelter. I’d never grow hungry or cold. Comfort sat at the edge of my fingertips and yet that boy didn’t have a glimpse of it.
Before I could consider the consequences, I slipped out of bed, tugging on my breeches. Then I levered open the window and dropped into the mud. I found the tent I’d watched the boy wonder into, teeth chattering.
The boy was awake with a dagger in hand when I flung open the flap. “Come on,” I whispered, rubbing my arms. “You’re going to live with me.”
“What?”
“You’re going to live with me. Do you have anything you want to bring?” It didn’t look like he had anything at all.
He mutely shook his head. “Why?”
I hissed through my teeth, “Just shut it and hurry up.”
“You don’t even know my name.”
He was right. “Well… what is it?”
“Cassian.”
“Let’s go, Cassian.” I grabbed his wrist, pulling him along with me. He stumbled, bare feet slipping in the mud outside.
I found my window had closed in my absence so the only way left was the front door. Mother would be asleep by now, thankfully.
I eased the door open, motioning him through after me. We tiptoed through the living room but then a light flicked on.
Cassian and I froze like two deer caught before a bow as Mother stared us down.
“What’s this, Rhysand?”
I winced. It was always bad when she said my full name. “This–this is Cassian. I told him he could live with us.”
She looked positively furious, glaring down at me, her huge wings spreading slightly, but her face softened as her gaze settled on Cassian. “There’s a bathtub with hot running water. Get in it or you can go back into the cold.”
Cassian disappeared instantly down the hall she indicated like a dog with its tail between its legs.
Mother turned back to me. “You cannot go bringing every bastard out there into this house.”
I fiddled with my fingers. “He was the one that beat me.”
She rolled her violet eyes. “No more surprises like this or I’ll be the one beating you. Back to bed, now.”
I was almost asleep when the door opened, Mother ushering Cassian in. “Into bed, now.”
Indeed, another bed had appeared across the room, twin to mine.
Cassian balked, bumping into the wall. “I–but–”
“I understand. I’ve been in your shoes,” she said, kneeling in front of him as she had for me. “It will feel like you’re being swallowed up but it’s here for as long as you need it.”
He looked at her like she was an alien. “But–I’m a bastard.”
She shook her head. “The circumstances of your birth do not matter to me.”
His lower lip wobbled but he climbed into bed. Mother pressed a kiss to his brow and left, closing the door quietly behind her.
In the leftover silence, I was barely able to hear the quiet of Cassian’s weeping.
*****
The next morning, I caught Cassian halfway through the window, about to slip out.
“What are you doing?” I asked, sitting up. It was barely dawn. “You’re letting cold air in.”
“I’m going back to my tent,” he snapped.
“Why?”
“Because!”
That’s when Mother came in, taking in the scene with pursed lips. “Cassian, darling, what are you doing?”
“I don’t want your help!” he shouted. “I don’t want your kindness!”
She took a step forward, holding out her hand. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
There were tears streaming down his boyish face. “I’m a bastard,” he sobbed, “I’m supposed to sleep on the floor.”
I rose from bed, pausing when he flinched. “Please don’t go. I don’t care if you’re a bastard.”
He shook his head, angrily wiping away his tears, but stayed quiet.
Mother wrapped her fingers around his, guiding him gently back from the window. “Let’s get some breakfast, shall we?”
I trailed after them, jealousy sparking that Mother was holding Cassian’s hand over mine. We were all quiet at the breakfast table, Mother having set out plates of bacon and eggs.
Cassian started shovelling the food into his mouth with his bare hands, much to my horror.
Mother quietly set down her fork. “Cassian, darling, use your silverware.”
“My what?” he asked around a mouthful.
She pointed to the fork.
He wiped his hands on his pajamas and picked up the fork, looking at it skeptically.
I daintily demonstrated how to use a fork while he scowled at me.
Alone with Lucien, Elain has to set her feelings straight. When an innocent hike, turns to something a little more meaningful, she finds it hard to breath.
(Hi, so I haven’t exactly decided who I ship Elain or Lucien or anyone with, but I was toying with the idea and that’s where this fic came from.)
Warning: Contains mature content not suitable for some readers. Read at your own risk.
*****
Elain wrung her fingers as she watched Lucien approach. The house was empty for once, even baby Nyx had gone with his parents to the theater. So it was just her and Lucien tonight.
She didn’t know why that made her nervous.
He passed by her on the way to the kitchen. giving her a small smile that barely lifted his lips.
He didn’t smile around her.
“Do you want anything? I think Feyre left some cake for us.”
“No, thank you,” Elain chirped, searching for a way to leave without being rude. “I’m full from dinner, so I’m just gonna head to bed.”
His expression flickered, but it was too fast for her to read. “Alright. Sleep well.”
She nodded absently as she retreated to her room, her heart hammering. She wasn’t sure why. Desperately needing to cool down, she opened the window to her room, glancing over the edge to see the night-blooming flowers she’d planted earlier in the season. They were just barely opening as the sun made its descent, having flourished well in this land of moonlight.
Elain tugged her hair from its braid, smoothing a hand through it. She sighed as a tingling started at the base of her spine. It did that whenever Lucien was near, warning her of his presence.
A moment later, a soft rap sounded at her door.
“Yes?”
The knob turned, revealing that golden face. He’d cut his hair in the past months so it was now short as most males preferred. She would never admit it aloud, but it made him more handsome, showing off the sharp angles of his face.
“I was wondering if you’d like to join me for a hike. I know it’s late, but the view is better at night.”
Elain hesitated. Walking alone with any high Fae through the woods already sounded like a trap, but him… being alone was already miserable enough.
Lucien watched her face carefully, the pupil of his metal eye narrowing slightly. “You don’t have to say yes. I was going to go anyway— I just thought you’d like the fresh air.”
She glanced back to her window, where the flowers rose just beyond the pane. “I suppose it can’t hurt.”
“Brilliant. You’re gonna need better shoes.”
She looked at her slippers and chewed her bottom lip. “Alright.”
*****
In Feyre’s ill-fitting boots, Elain panted as she climbed after Lucien. Of all the things being high Fae had given her, stamina wasn’t one of them.
“You alright back there?” he asked over his shoulder, face washed in patches of moonlight coming through the leaves.
“I’m fine,” she rasped, catching up to him. The ground leveled finally, allowing her a bit of reprise. Thankfully, her wheezing breath had made talking difficult for the past mile or so they’d walked, but that advantage was quickly fading.
“You know,” Lucien said, eyes fixed on the trail, “your father talked about you a lot.”
She nearly tripped. She often forgot that Lucian had met her father, traveled with him. It was a fact that she buried deep with all the other uncomfortable knowledge of this world.
“What kind of things?” she made herself ask. She could be pleasant, even if she was craving the next slope and the asphyxiation it brought her.
Lucien kicked a rock out of the way, his boots torn and dusty. “He talked about how you used to collect wildflowers for your sisters when you were younger, and horrify your mother whenever you braided them into your hair.”
Elain chewed on her lip. She remembered those moments, before they’d installed a garden on the estate. The village girls would often help her, creating giant bundles to leave on people’s doorsteps. It was when she returned home with mud on her hands and in her hair that her mother would curl her lip and call a maid to bathe her until her skin was pink. Of all the things her mother did, that was one of the lighter punishments.
“I never understood why she didn’t like them.”
Lucien let out a small laugh. “He also talked about you finding a fruit from a poisonous tree and then puking for a week straight.”
Her nose crinkled. “Yes. That was a punishment in and of itself.”
She looked up, finding another hill for them to scale.
“We’re almost there,” Lucien said, shouldering the pack he’d brought with. She wasn’t sure what was in it, only that it bulged at the seams with cargo.
As they crested the hill, Elain finally caught sight of what they’d been hiking to. A small stream rushed through the trees, barely a dozen feet from a cliff. Beyond that, the lights of Velaris twinkled and winked at her, as if they were sharing a secret. From here, she could see the House of Wind, crowned in gold above the city that only really lived at night.
“This is stunning,” she said, stepping over a root. “How did you find it?”
Lucien shrugged as he eyed the stream. “I like exploring. I don’t really do much else here.”
At the tone of his voice, she glanced up. He was balanced between two rocks above the bubbling water, shifting his weight.
“Why don’t you find a hobby? Like painting or reading?”
“Or gardening?” he asked, throwing a wink over his shoulder. “This is my hobby. Besides, of course, lowering Rhysand’s opinion of me and avoiding my brothers.”
“Rhys doesn’t think badly of you.” She approached the bank just as Lucien finished crossing. From this distance, the stream was starting to look more like a river. A very fast moving river.
“The stream connects with some more down the mountain and helps feed the Sidra,” Lucien explained, as if trying to fill the silence.
Elain cautiously set her boot on a rock and found it didn’t immediately shift under her weight. As warm as the night was, she didn’t particularly feel like cooling off with a dip in the water.
“Step on this one,” Lucien said. “No. Your right foot.”
She obeyed his instructions and found both sides of the stream beyond her reach.
“Left foot on the red one. There you go. Good girl.”
She was so distracted by his choice of words that her right foot slipped, sending her forward. Lucien caught her by the elbows, one of his boots submerged in the water. She hadn’t even seen him move.
“Are you alright? Did you twist your ankle?” He guided her to the next rock.
“Is the water cold?” she blurted, then nearly smacked herself. He was still holding onto her, and that tingling in her spine grew to a tickle.
He let out a breathy laugh, not answering until she was safely on the other side. “A bit, but that’s alright.”
“Your sock must be wet.”
He laughed again and Elain found herself enjoying the sound. “Yes. My sock is wet. Is your ankle okay?”
She nodded, biting her lip. He was still touching her, a hand on each elbow, despite both of them being on dry ground. His hands were warm through the sleeves of her shirt.
As she looked up, one of those hands moved, cupping her face. His thumb smoothed over her bottom lip, drawing it out from between her teeth.
“Don’t do that,” he whispered, before seeming to catch himself. He let go of her as if she burned, instantly putting space between them. “I’m sorry. I—”
“It’s alright.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right. I’m going to get a fire started. There’s a blanket in my pack if you want to sit down.”
She nodded, blush high on her cheeks as she went for the pack he’d set on the bank. So that was why it looked so big. Inside the blanket, a bundle of cheese and meats were carefully wrapped. She set those aside to lay out the blanket on the sand ground, kicking away a few rocks.
By the time Lucien had returned, she was munching on a bit of cheese, watching him as he carefully stacked the firewood he gathered. Barely a moment later, the fire sprang to life, sparks flying in the air.
“Why get the firewood at all? Doesn’t your magic just… keep it burning?”
“I don’t want to be focused on the fire,” he answered simply, before sitting beside her, a good foot or two away. He leaned back on his hands, staring at the city below them.
“How often do you come here?” she asked, the silence burning a hole through her brow.
He shrugged. “Whenever I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“What are you thinking about now?”
He glanced at her, arching a brow as a little smile pulled at his full lips. “I don’t think you want to know.”
“Well now I’m actually curious.”
His smile bloomed into a grin. “Small talk not enough for you?”
“You’re my mate,” she said, the words like sandpaper on her tongue. His smile died. “I want to know more about you.”
“Thank you for reminding me.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“You know why.” Because you don’t want me. Because I am not enough for you.
The words didn’t come from her mind, but from a vision, of perhaps a future between the two of them. In a dark meadow, too much space between their bodies. She wasn’t sure who said it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know at all.
She blinked as the image faded.
Lucien was still looking at her. “Do you really want to know?”
“What?”
“What I’m thinking.”
She considered him for a moment and realized she didn’t want that vision for them at all. She’d changed the future once before, she was sure she could do it again.
“Yes.”
He rolled his head back to look into the sky. “I’m thinking that after everything I have lost, you are the gift I’d never once thought I’d be given and yet you’re still just out of reach.”
“I’m right here.”
“Are you?” He lowered his chin, face framed in moonlight.
Elain swallowed. “I am.”
“Then come here.”
Eyes widening, her body registered the words before she did. Going molten in all the right places, she found herself shifting so they were knee to knee.
Lucien said softly, “Lay back.”
She did and didn’t know why. A moment later, Lucien’s face was above her, his hand cradling her cheek. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
More than anything. But she said, “Yes.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as the ghost of his mouth brushed across her cheek. “Like that?” he asked, the words a hot rush across her skin.
“No.” More.
He pressed his lips to her jaw, tilting her head back slight. “That?”
“Please.”
Her eyes were still closed as his mouth finally met hers, softer than she’d expected. He kissed her lips once, twice, before nipping.
She gasped and he used that to his advantage. As his weight settled fully over her, he deepened the kiss, his tongue hot in her mouth. She welcomed it, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer, if such a thing were possible. His chest pressed into hers, his other hand resting on her hip as they kissed and kissed and kissed.
It was over before she wanted it to be.
He pulled back, lips bruised. “Have you ever… Are you…?”
“A virgin? No.” She laughed. “Though I’m not very experienced.”
“Do you want me to show you?”
The tingling at the base of her spine grew, as if in warning. She said, “Show me.”
He grinned and a moment later she found herself on her stomach, having been flipped faster than she could register. She laughed a little, pushing herself to her elbows as he pulled off her boots, then her pants.
“What about the socks?” she asked breathlessly.
“I can throw one in the water so we’re even,” he said as he pulled those off too.
Elain laughed again, for some reason not at all bothered by the fact that her ass was exposed to the moon and everyone else in the company of two.
Lucien pressed a kiss to her ankle, trailing up the back of her calf. She warmed at the feeling until he bit lightly at the curve of her ass.
She gasped, tempted to turn over to smack him, but before she could make the decision, he pulled her up by her hips, guiding her onto his lap where she could feel the press of his against her backside.
He ran his hands up her thighs as she leaned her head back onto his shoulder, content to let him touch. He lifted her shirt, guiding it over her head to toss it somewhere with the rest of her clothes. Then his hands met her breasts, squeezing gently. He twisted a nipple between his fingers, earning a sharp breath as the sensation shot to her core.
His chest rose and fell behind her with breath. “Are you already wet for me, my dear?”
She bit her lip, earning another harsh pinch to her nipple.
“What did I say about that?” he asked, nipping her ear.
“You said not to do it.”
“Good girl. You remembered.”
She blushed as one of his hands trailed down, gliding across the band of her underwear.
“Do you want me to touch you here?” he asked hotly.
“Yes.”
He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck as that hand dipped into her panties, trailing down through her core. He hummed at what he found waiting, brushing his thumb over her clit.
She let out a soft sigh, head lulling against his shoulder while he began careful circles, his other hand still working her breasts.
“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of you,” he said, guiding a finger inside of her. “How long I’ve craved you.”
She moaned while he pumped that finger in and out, curling slightly to touch that spot she wasn’t sure existed until now. As he added a second, she tucked her face into his neck, arching into his touch.
He worked her slowly, his thumb grinding against her clit. She felt release build in her faster than it ever did with her own hand, fueled by the rough calluses of his hand and the feeling of him hard behind her.
She came with a cry, convulsing around his fingers. He held her while she shook, working her through the throes of it until she was too sensitive to enjoy his touch. She pulled his hand away, but he guided it to her mouth.
“Open up. Taste yourself.”
Her lips parted around his fingers, taking in the salty flavor. Her tongue flattened under the pads, teeth scraping gently at his knuckles.
“Don’t you want some?” she asked as she pulled her head away, eyes heavy.
“I’d rather taste it from the source.”
Heat shot through her again, making her turn in his arms. His mouth met hers like it was made to be there, hands lifting her slightly so she could properly straddle his lap. She fumbled to undo the buttons of his shirt, dimly aware that she was one piece of clothing away from full nudity yet he hadn’t even taken off his wet sock.
Lucien helped her with a flick of his fingers, the shirt disintegrating from the seams with a small orange flame. Elain stared at his chest. “You didn’t burn yourself.”
He shook his head, leaning forward to kiss her neck.
“But what are you going to wear on the way back?”
“That is the last thing on my mind right now.”
“But—”
“Just touch me. Please.”
It was as close to begging as she thought she’d ever get him. She ran her hands over his chest, dusted with scars and freckles. He was skinnier than the Illyrians, though no less built. His torso was all slim muscle and carefully hidden strength.
Lucien lifted them suddenly, moving forward with a hand braced on her lower back as he lay her back down on the blanket. He glanced appreciatively down her body. “You have no idea how beautiful you are.”
She didn’t know why, but she blushed. She’d been doing a lot of that recently. Her skin was pink from where he’d squeezed and pinched her breasts, but he didn’t seem to care as he lowered his mouth to them, tongue smoothing over a nipple. She moaned softly, running her fingers through his hair while he sucked and toyed with her breasts.
He moved on when she began to squirm, lips dancing across her belly. Fingers hooked beneath the straps, he pulled her underwear off before guiding her legs open for him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee as he watched her, his single eye dark as coal.
“You don’t have to,” Elain said, uncomfortable being completely open like this. “I know that men don’t really like—”
“There is nothing I want more in this world than to taste your cunt and see you come from my mouth.”
She choked at the harsh words, more filthy, she hoped, than any of Nesta’s books.
“So let’s not pretend otherwise,” he purred and lowered his mouth.
The first touch of his tongue set her on fire. She moaned as he licked her clit, hands twisting in the blanket beneath her. He set an easy pace, sucking and drawing whimpers from her lips. She managed to release one hand from the blanket to put it in his hair, the red locks like silk between her fingers.
He growled, sending vibrations straight to her core as his hand slid up her thigh, parting her legs wider. He spread her folds, the next touch making her arch against the ground.
“So delicious,” he whispered, his thumb circling at her entrance while he sucked her clit.
She moaned as he pushed that thumb inside of her, his tongue moving in time with it. The sensations had her mind reeling, wondering if his cock was as big as it had felt beneath her.
She came with the image in her mind, fingers twisting in Lucien’s hair while wave after wave washed over her. He lapped it up greedily, drawing her slowly down from the high.
When he rose, Elain was delirious with pleasure. She grabbed the back of his neck, drawing him in to kiss her. He responded in kind and consumed her, hands sliding up and down her bare flesh. His hips lowered, grinding into her sensitive core.
“Elain,” he said. “My Tigerlily.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “What are you waiting for?”
“I— I don’t want to go any further.”
“What?” Her heart raced. He didn’t want her? It made sense. After making him wait so long, maybe he’d lost interest. Maybe—
“Because when we are joined like this,” he said, hips making a slow circle against hers that had fire stirring in her belly. “I don’t think we’ll be able to stop. And as tempting as it is, I don’t want to have you in the middle of the forest for the first time.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”
Her face must have looked like a tomato. “Well, I don’t really know what to say.”
“Say that…’’ He drew her hand from his shoulders, studying the lines of her fingers before threading them through his, and kissed the back of her palm. “Say that there is a future for us. No matter how far.”
She swallowed hard, looking into his eyes, one of brass and one of gold. They glowed like sunlight. It was hard to draw breath, her heart in her chest filling up the space her lungs were supposed to occupy. “There is. No matter how far.”
I think a lot of people are poorly misunderstanding Rhys’ question to Az about deserving Elain here. It really bothers me that people started to freak out about Rhys and Az’s dynamic after (mis)reading this one conversation. There seems to be a couple of issues causing the confusion:
Interpreting the words
Context
The first half of all the confusion seems to be a problem of language. Sarah might’ve chosen a less ambiguous word here but, alas, here we are.
So.
Deserve: to have earned or to be given something because of the way you have behaved or the qualities you have. (Cambridge Dictionary)
Deserve: do something or have or show qualities worthy of (a reaction which rewards or punishes as appropriate). (Oxford Dictionary)
Obviously both these definitions are different and you can probably see where this is going.
In the same vein, two synonymous phrases to ‘deserve’ are ‘to be entitled to’and‘to be worthy of’. We see that the word can be used to describe either of those attitudes. For the latter, Rhys asking Az if he actually believes he’s worthy of Elain would be so, so bad - and also completely and ridiculously out of character. Rhys constantly talks about how much it hurts him to see Az (and Cassian) believe that he’s a worthless bastard and even expresses this to Feyre on multiple occasions. So for him to to turn around and imply that Az wasn’t worthy of Elain would be so uncharacteristic of Rhys’ personality. But Rhys asking Az if he thinks he’s entitled to Elain’s affection makes much more sense in this context - and also how we’d expect Rhys to respond to Az’s words just before this question: “What if the Cauldron was wrong?… The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.” To which Rhys responds: “You believe you deserve to be her mate?” The context of the conversation makes it obvious that Rhys is freaked out because it sounds like Az feels he’s entitled to the third sister because of some sort of Cauldron-math - not the possibility that Elain herself might choose Az. Azriel never even mentions considering Elain’s choice in this whole conversation, even if he might have thought about it privately. So it seems obvious where Rhys’ line of thought would go, what he would be concerned about. He was obviously making a point about how fucked up it would be if Az were to think he deserves Elain as if she were an object. Like one would deserve a trophy or prize. As if Elain’s affection is EXPECTED to be directed at Az by the Cauldron/fate because HE thinks so. That he is somehow entitled to Elain.
Bear in mind that Rhys is a male who’s obsessed with choice (because his own was taken away) and who himself didn’t ever allow himself to believe that he was entitled to his own mate’s love. There are plenty of men who believe themselves entitled to a woman for all sorts of reasons - so it’s not a stretch that Rhys would be disturbed to hear something that sounds similar to entitlement in Az’s words. Especially since it’s obvious that Az is in a dark place (not sleeping, sad eyes, standing in the doorway throughout Solstice celebrations) and Rhys has obviously noted this. People can try to justify all sorts of attitudes when they’re in such a dark place (See: Nesta).
All this context is important to this conversation, guys!
Summary:Elain and Lucien are reunited after a year of civil war within Prythian. Lucien brings Elain back to Day to marry her in secret, and do something very sinful in the High Temple.
** Happiest of Birthdays to my dear @moononastring!! The Queen of Elucien, and generally just a really awesome human!
Summary: Elain and Lucien are reunited after a year of civil war within Prythian. Lucien brings Elain back to Day to marry her in secret, and do something very sinful in the High Temple.
** Happiest of Birthdays to my dear @moononastring!! The Queen of Elucien, and generally just a really awesome human!
For my fanfic library, visit @rhysand-vs-fenrys-vs-writing.
Since you already know half of this picture: I‘ll post the hole one. This was one of my smaller artworkAll boxes despite one are delivered, but I‘ll wait till that is by its receiver before posting more:) . #elain #lucien #elucien #acotar #acowar #acofas #acomaf #sarahjmaas
Can we all just appreciate how Lucien doesn’t force the mating bond on Elain, and just leaves it up to her whether she wants to pursue it or not? Honestly I feel like if she would reject the bond or Azriel would try to romance her, Lucien would accept it without declaring a Blood Duel. Because he’s a good guy. He deserves someone who goes for him 100%.
