FANFICTION

A COURT OF NIGHTMARES AND LIGHT

CHAPTER II : The End of Summer

Elain realized she had been lost in thoughts, when Nuala quietly put a hand on her arm. She blinked, looking at the handmaiden, her friend, then she lowered her gaze to the dough she had been shaping and reshaping absentmindedly. She took a towel and wrapped it around the bread, to wait for it to be ready to be cooked. Nuala smiled then went back to her own occupations just as Elain's ears captured the sound of the main door of the manor opening and closing, followed by steps and voices. She recognized the rhythm of these steps, slightly louder and less delicate than other fairies of the Night Court.

Nuala and Cerridwen heard as well because they very quickly turned their heads towards that sound, before distracting Elain.

"Should we prepare the potatoes to go with the meat for lunch?" Cerridwen asked in a discreet voice.

Elain turned back to her, and forced a smile to her face, nodding. The smile didn't reach her eyes but neither commented on this.

From the steps, the way it echoed, she guessed that Lucien entered Rhysand's office at the other side of the first floor. It was followed by complete silence – the proof that Rhysand put a cage of air around them to keep their conversation from being heard.

"If sir Lucien will join us for lunch after his return, we should add some flowers to the table. I will–"

"I will go." Elain announced.

Nuala and Cerridwen glanced at each other, knowing very well that she wasn't even thinking of putting flowers for him. She just didn't want anyone else to go in her garden and mess with her flowers. All three were aware of what the two spies had done, but Elain decided to ignore it.

She took off her apron and went to the vast garden of the manor. For a moment, as she took in the arrangements of flowers she had thought about, cared for, her heart was at peace. The summer heat was still lingering and there were many insects buzzing around the flowers. It was the closest to home and happiness she had in Prythian now.

Some flowers were starting to tire because summer was drawing to an end, so she went to them, carefully cutting the stems before adding different plants to give the bouquet more colours and life. Lucien or no Lucien here, she never failed to make beautiful arrangements of flowers bouquet. His presence didn't change anything.

She attached the flowers together with a discreet ribbon and went back into the manor to put them into a vase of water and go back to helping Nuala and Cerridwen. She was still arranging some petals and stems when she set foot into the main hall with the huge stairs leading upstairs. She went to a stop when Lucien ended up face-to-face with her, as surprised as she was to meet so unexpectedly. Well, as unexpectedly when the two being in the same house could be.

They stared for a moment, as awkward and uncomfortable as usual, then he grimaced and looked away. She thought he'd keep going – towards the stairs, probably to clean himself up after his trip – but he stayed there, as if unsure if he should say something. But he didn't even open his mouth, carefully trying to find the words. He turned back towards her, taking her in, assuring she was fine, then stared at the flowers in her hands.

His expression became the same as usual: sadness, regret, pity, remorse. She hated this expression, sometimes she even wanted to snap at him and tell him to look away if he had to stare at her like that. But it'd make them interact and that was even more despicable.

"You look well." He said, like he always did.

It seemed to be the only words of greetings he could ever bring himself to tell her – as if no matter the weeks and months going by, he only ever saw the thin, frail Fae who was crumbling upon herself, and every time he was witnessing her unexpected recovery all over again. As if he forgot every single time that she was well. As well as she could be, at least.

Lucien glanced at her with that mismatched gaze that unnerved her so much. One russet, sad eye, one golden, emotionless eye. Just mechanics and wirings and she wondered if his whole body wasn't like that, a contradiction between mechanical reactions and feelings he didn't know how to deal with.

He waited a moment, then a longer moment, waiting for her reply but when she remained stubbornly silent and immobile, he sighed, shaking his head. Then he climbed up the stairs in long strides.

The worst part of this encounter? Feeling the bond awaken between them, like every time they met. Elain always tried to ignore it, but the moment they had looked at each other, she had felt it tugging – as if this whatever in her heart was trying to pull her to him. And as he walked away from her, knowing her silence had been rejection enough, she felt that wave of disappointment and regrets – his disappointment and regrets. She didn't want to feel whatever he felt, she didn't want him to feel whatever she felt. She didn't want to be bond to him.

She looked up at the stairs, Lucien long gone now. She didn't even hear his steps anymore, loud and unmistakable in this house full of people with such disparate characters – some were light as a feather, almost unheard unless they wished to, like Rhysand, Azriel or Nuala and Cerridwen, some were full of confidence like Mor and Amren, the walks of queens. Some had the rough patterns of soldier, with the lightness of a warrior, like Cassian. Some… some were so different, like Feyre who was sometimes light, sometimes discreet, sometimes confident, and sometimes very human. But Lucien's steps, they were different from all of them. He wasn't someone from the Night Court, which might be why he didn't seem to know the concept of discretion and silence. His steps held the pride of a High Lord's son, but it was hurried, as if he was constantly trying to escape his anguish.

Elain realized she had remained standing there for far too long, and didn't want to unexpectedly see Lucien again, especially not if he realized she had remained standing right where they had met. She didn't want him to think she would be waiting for him. So she hurried to the room she had initially intended to go to, finding Nuala and Cerridwen setting up the table with the various dishes. The empty vase was waiting for her bouquet. The sudden absence of something in her hands made her uncomfortable and she immediately moved to help them.

By the time the table was set and the dishes ready, Rhysand and Feyre had come out of their office, still discussing whatever was the topic of the day.

"We'll wait for Azriel's reports before deciding anything regarding the Continent," he concluded, Feyre nodding.

They finally noticed Elain, and she vaguely wondered if there was trouble with the Continent, or maybe this firebird Queen who was still in Prythian for the moment. Or maybe the four remaining queens who had…

She cut her line of thoughts just as Feyre approached, smiling so joyfully, in a way she had never smiled before she had entered this Faerie world. Elain knew that this smile belonged to Rhysand.

"It smells delicious!" She said, eying the various dishes.

Nuala and Cerridwen nodded before disappearing through the walls, like they always did with this special ability of theirs.

"Lucien will join us for lunch, as soon as he's cleaned himself up." Rhysand announced, without it being a surprise.

Elain couldn't keep her mask of indifference though, and Feyre understood her reaction.

"I hope you don't mind, he's very tired from his journey. He had a lot to deal with this time."

She barely nodded, just to acknowledge that they had spoken, and so there would be no more word on the topic.

Feyre squeezed her shoulder for comfort, then joined her mate, sitting next to him and their hands immediately reaching. Elain went to her own seat, in front of her sister, and eyed the other empty plate next to her. And the absence of other plates. Amren and Mor weren't around today, Nesta and Cassian were the Cauldron-knew-where, and Azriel… Azriel was on a mission. She didn't know where or for how long, she never did. A few times, she had tried to use her powers of Seer to make sure he was all right, or out of sheer curiosity but… it never really worked for him. She only ever saw wisps of darkness and it was impossible to grasp onto anything.

Just then, Lucien arrived quickly and despite his almost discreet wince, went to sit next to Elain.

"I apologize for being late," he said in a hushed voice.

Rhysand and Feyre smiled it off and they started serving themselves, having a lot more enthusiasm and appetite than their two companions.

After a moment of hesitation, still caused by not being used to the casualness of the Night Court, Lucien glanced at Elain. He was about to approach his hand to her plate to serve her, opening his lips to ask her but she must have sensed what he was trying to do and hurriedly served herself. He looked away and was the last one to serve himself.

Except Rhysand and Feyre making small-talk and trying desperately to set up a good mood for the meal, Lucien was the only one to answer, giving as few words as possible, and Elain remained silent unless it was addressed to her.

"You haven't seen the new flowers she has planted yet, Lucien. You should give him a tour, Elain," Feyre said, eying carefully her sister's reaction.

Her hand froze, on the way to bring up food to her mouth, every pore of her body aware of the way Lucien suddenly glanced at her, expectant and hopeful. She put the tender meat in her mouth, using it as time to consider it, think 'no', and try to find an answer that wouldn't be too rude.

"I won't stay after this meal," Lucien suddenly said, as if sensing her discomfort at having to even bear his presence after, once again, her silent rejection, "I have to go back to the apartment and sort through a few things. And I'll leave tomorrow morning."

He glanced at Rhysand, both looking a little more tense – because of what was happening on the Continent? It was enough that Elain curiously glanced between the two, then settled on her sister who kept her lips thin before smiling.

"Then, have dinner with us tonight. We'll tell Amren and Mor to join us. Azriel might even be back from his mission."

It was Lucien's turn to purse his lips. Wrong thing to say to encourage him to stay.

"I'd rather rest. But thank you for the invitation." He said, looking back at his almost-untouched food.

Elain wondered if he ate enough. He didn't seem weakened in any way, so he was probably fine. He was a High Fae anyway. She convinced herself that she only wondered such a thing because she… because she cared for people, regardless of who they were – and especially not because of that bond between them.

As soon as it was deemed suitable, Lucien left, the table and the manor, along with Rhysand to keep discussing whatever was bothering them, and as Feyre and Elain were gathering the rest of food and cleaning the dishes, Elain couldn't help but speak up:

"Why do you keep doing this?" She asked, her voice almost cold and sharp.

"Doing what?" She said instead, unwavering.

"Trying to get me to spend time with him."

"He has a name, you know. And it wouldn't hurt to spend a little bit of time with Lucien." Feyre answered, looking right into her sister's eyes, insisting on his name, "Regardless of whether he is your mate or not, being so rude to him after so much time has gone by is–"

"He's the cause of all this."

"He isn't, and you know it! He's not the one who threw you into the Cauldron, it's not his fault that you're mates, he's not the one who made the bargain with Hybern and the queens… he's not the one who sold you out to them."

Feyre looked away, lips thin, trying to recoil her anger because of everything that had happened to her sisters, because of Tamlin and Ianthe.

Elain looked away, knowing all this, but still.

"He was his ally, wasn't he? He did all his bidding and might as well have thrown me into the Cauldron himself." She answered, avoiding her sister's hard and judging gaze.

"And he paid a big price for being Tamlin's friend back then. He lost as much as…"

Her voice stopped and she sighed.

"He has no home, no one who even cares for him anymore. You think he keeps going all around Prythian and the Continent for pleasure? Just… try to be more friendly to him. It won't get his hopes up, you made clear enough all this time you have no interest in him. But at least, it'll be less awkward for all of us if you just try."

Elain didn't want to acknowledge all of that, and without another word or gaze her way, annoyed she was hurting her friend, Feyre turned around and walked away. High Lady duties to attend to apparently. Elain looked back at the now empty table. The flowers looked sadder and more tired than earlier. As if on cue, sensing all this drama, some petals fell off. She didn't look back.

She knew, vaguely, Lucien's story. Feyre had told her the necessary parts. The parts that were useful for Elain to forgive him for what he did. But… Elain couldn't bring herself to. It was too hard. He had been too involved in everything she had become, everything that had happened to her.

And like every other day, her life as High Fae continued. She tended to her garden, had dinner with her sister and Rhysand, Mor and Amren. She went to bed, hunted by more nightmares made of memories and visions.

The following morning, as she was staring at the water of the bathtub to find the strength to get into it – it was still scary to go under water, so she only half-filled it and it was enough of a struggle as it was – she felt it. She lightly turned her head before freezing. A moment later, her body relaxed and with a slight trembling, she got into the bath, sitting into it. Lucien was gone from the Night Court. The bond between them was still there, but it wasn't as powerful as it was when he was around. Elain wanted to feel relief about this, but… something sad lingered in her heart. She wasn't sure if it came from her, or Lucien.

Later this day, as she tended her garden, she didn't hear anyone behind her until the person spoke up.

"Hello, Elain."

She startled, turning around, and smiling.

"Azriel! You're back!" She exclaimed, standing up and hurriedly wiping her hands on her gardening apron, "How was your mission? Are you all right?"

He chuckled lightly as she looked him over, making sure he wasn't injured.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking. I just gave my mission report to Rhys and all went well."

She stared at him, wondering if it had anything to do with the Continent and whatever was happening over there.

Without another word, Azriel showed her his arm and even though she was covered in dirt, she smiled, putting her hand in the crook of his muscular arm. They started walking through the garden, both commenting on the flowers until there wasn't anything else to say about the plants surrounding them.

Azriel walked her back to the house then left her so the two of them could clean up and change before dinner. Elain hesitated in the choice of her different gowns but chose the light blue one that made her skin glow. She braided some flowers in her hair and had an almost bouncy step when she joined the others downstairs.

"Sorry for being late," she apologized with a flush on her cheeks when she realized everyone was already gathered.

"Don't worry! You look so pretty! You're like a spring flower, every time of the year!" Mor complimented with a grin.

Elain thanked her with a nod, her eyes glancing very quickly at Azriel. He smiled, his eyes twinkling lightly, a silent compliment that was more than enough for Elain.

At another part of Prythian, Lucien lightly turned his head, as if hearing something from afar. But it wasn't a sound that had attracted his attention, but something in his heart.

"Something wrong?" Vassa asked him, her golden eyes shining in the light of the candles around them.

"Nothing," he answered casually, looking once again over the papers he needed to finish reading.

"Any news from Feyre or Helion? Any way to cure me?" She asked, like she always did whenever Lucien went back from the Fae lands.

He looked up, shaking his head with his lips kept thin.

"No, sorry. I asked Feyre, she's looking into it but it's taking time."

Vassa nodded, keeping her lips tight just as footsteps were heard in the hall. Lucien was the only one to hear the two pairs of steps. He didn't think twice about it until the two persons, humans, arrived and the scent of one hit him. He turned around, his good eye slightly widened, but holding back his feelings.

"Jurian! You're back from hunting with Graysen! How did it go?" Vassa asked.

Jurian, and Graysen, looked over at Lucien. The first glanced quickly at the other man who tensed but didn't say anything. Lucien was griping the armchairs but neither noticed.

"It all went well. We did some great catching. I didn't know you'd be back so soon from the Night Court, Lucien." Jurian said, smiling even though it wasn't warm – despite his contribution to the war, he was still the same man who had lived centuries ago and had been most cruel back then.

"I… had matters to attend to somewhere else." He answered, his eyes still fixated on Graysen.

His instincts were screaming at him to rip off his throat, the human male who had broken his mate's heart, who had hurt Elain so terribly… but Lucien held back his instincts, struggling to roar them back in. His grip on the armchair relaxed as he leaned into the chair, but his body was still taunt, ready to jump at the other man's throat at any given time.

Oh, how he hated the mating bond when it was driving him into the state of a wild animal.

"I just arrived." He said with a smile, but he could feel the muscles in his jaw tense.

"I see… How did it go with the Night Court?"

Lucien focused on Jurian and their discussion about the political matters at hands. Graysen kept out of the conversation, but remained in the room, his hand close to his sword if Lucien were to lose it at any moment. It was almost tempting to jump up and see how he'd react, how scared he'd be, but Lucien didn't act in such way. He wasn't sure he could control himself long enough to stop. Lord Nolan would probably not allow the Band of Exiles to stay in his manor any longer if Lucien were to rip apart his son.

As tense as the evening was, Vassa and Jurian made sure to drink plenty to bring some atmosphere, Graysen relaxing along with them. Pretending to be peaceful and happy was easier for Lucien too as they all relaxed and laughed, but he never stopped glancing warily at the man he considered his rival.

Later on, Lucien left the dinner room, using the excuse to rest after using so much of his magic to winnow all the way back here, especially two days in a row. He was tired but unable to rest when Graysen was so close, and his protective instincts were driving him wild. He went downstairs and outside the manor, taking a deep breath of the night air. It smelled strange, a mix between the heaviness of summer, the crispiness of autumn, and human. It didn't have the magic and purity of the Fae lands.

He closed his eyes, letting his imagination wander through Prythian. The smell of the Autumn Court forests, the ever-budding flowers of the Spring Court… the scent of Elain's garden in the Night Court, that lingered on her.

He opened his eyes once again, looking up at the night sky, so dull compared to the one in the Night Court. He… he hoped Elain could see them, bright and beautiful, perhaps she was looking at them right now, hoping for better times to come.

The door of the manor opened, and Graysen and Lucien ended up, once again, face-to-face. Only this time no one was around to pretend they even remotely bore each other's company, especially considering the link they shared with Elain.

Graysen snorted, eying the High Fae just as a servant went to fetch his horse. While waiting for the animal, he quickly broke the silence.

"Always running back here with your tail between your legs?"

Lucien clenched his fists and jaw so hard, he felt his bones cringe under the pressure. He turned sharp eyes towards the human, his lips snarling back as a vicious expression appeared on his face. He couldn't help it, he hated the man, for everything he had done to Elain, and he hated that he was so haughty with him. He was so, so, so close to attacking him but the tiny bit of restraint he still had on himself held up.

And Graysen knew it, that he was pushing him to the edge and perhaps all these remarks and hateful side-glances were just that – taunting Lucien to lash out, to attack him. Perhaps in order to make the fragile peace between Fae and humans even more fragile, but Lucien doubted the human would think so far ahead – and even if he disliked the idea of cohabitating with Fae, he never opposed to his father. More probably, the disgusting human just wanted Lucien to lash out so that he could have the pleasure to know he would have provoked an unfixable and finale rip between Elain and Lucien.

Lucien breathed in and out, trying to calm down. But it was hard to stay calm when the man was staring at him with a vicious light in his eyes, waiting, just waiting for the Fae to break. Whatever Elain found in this man, Lucien couldn't understand, he was such a–

The servant came back with Graysen's horse, offering a good enough distraction that Lucien could look away, teeth gritting together.

"I'll see you again, I suppose. Give my salutation to that despicable creature – I will get married soon to a lovely human."

Lucien snarled, he started to move but Graysen, without even looking over his shoulder, made his horse move and within seconds, Lucien didn't have any more opening. Not unless he really went out of his way to try to kill him and, as tempting as it was, he wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

It was the first time he was hearing of his engagement – not a surprise, there. He wondered if anyone else knew and if he should share it with the Night Court's Inner Circle. With Elain. How would she react to know that Graysen had once and for all erased her from his heart, his life.

Growling, Lucien turned around and went into the forest, for a walk, or maybe to let out his burning anger at the first trees who will look like they could receive some beating. But for some reason, he lost himself into his mind, into his wandering, not looking where he was going or how long he spent in this dark forest.

Then he stumbled upon a sad sight, an old, collapsing cottage. It was barely holding itself together, half-destroyed after the war but from the state it was in, it had been abandoned long before…

He looked around and his heart skipped a beat. He wondered if…

From what he knew, from Tamlin and Feyre, it might just be…

Lucien slowly advanced towards the cottage. He walked through the entrance. The fireplace was cold, old furniture broken into pieces were scattered on the floor, the window was broken and the roof had partly collapsed. It was small – smaller than he had imagined. It was sad – sadder than he could have imagined.

He took another step forward. His foot hit a piece of wood but as he looked down, he realized it wasn't some random piece of broken furniture. He bent down, retrieving and wiped off the dust and dirt accumulated on it. It was a little damaged but… you could still recognize a young fawn.

As he went back to the manor, calm and serein despite how the evening had started, Lucien thought that the Autumn freshness had arrived in the human lands earlier than usual. But the piece of wood he held tightly in his hand was strangely warm.

A few days later, just like when he had left, Elain felt Lucien's return in the Night Court, right in front of the manor. Her muscles tremored and she almost stood up, but she held back, looking back down at her embroidery and continuing her steady work.

It took some time as he talked with Rhysand, and probably Feyre… and some time later, she heard his steps on the floor, slowly coming closer to her door. She ignored it as strongly as she could until she could feel him. Right there, on the other side. He hesitated, considering the time it took for him to knock.

She didn't answer but he opened the door anyway, she kept her back from him, but her hands had gone rigid and she only stared at her embroidery without quite seeing it. She was only aware of him, of his scent, of his warmth, and the bond between them that begged to be acknowledged.

Without a word, Lucien approached her, keeping a safe distance as he arrived near her.

"I asked Feyre… I wasn't sure…"

His voice trailed off and from the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of him, she looked up – not at Lucien himself, but his reflection in the mirror in the corner of her room. He was handling something in his hands, his red hair was shining brightly under the sunlight. Her heart skipped a beat and she hated that it betrayed her in such a way. How much hurt had she gone through for her to hate her heart so? It was such a sad feeling – hating her own heart…

"I found this." He finally said, looking up at her, away from whatever was in his hands.

He handed it towards her and slowly, battling against her good conscience, her instincts, her mind and her heart, Elain turned around. She kept her eyes away from Lucien's face, but she saw a wooden figure in his hands. The slightest of gasp escaped her lips and her fingers twitched. She almost lifted a hand to take the object in her hands but at the last moment, she hesitated, simply staring at it, unable to move.

As if understanding her storm of feelings, Lucien decided to leave the wooden figure on the closest table, within reach if she wanted.

He opened and closed his lips, he hesitated in adding something, looking for words of comfort but… he didn't find anything to say. Not when the tears shining in her eyes made every single one of his heartbeat ache.

"He loved you. More than anything and everything he did… it was for you. All three of you." He said in a low voice, but it held softness and warmth – in a way she had never heard or felt.

Lucien lowered his head, nodded goodbye, then turned around to leave.

When Elain found it within herself to detach her eyes from the wooden figure crafted by her father so long ago, opening her mouth to thank him, Lucien was gone.

Her lips trembled, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

Next chapter will be published next Wednesday. I'll probably publish one chapter a week for now, and I'll update more often when I'll be done writing all the chapters.

Don't hesitate to tell me what you thought!

Yours Truly,

May