That night when everyone else has retired to their respective bedrooms, Lucien does as well, tugging his crimson hair free of its emerald-green ribbon and shaking it out. Blowing out a breath, he undresses to his underthings and climbs into bed, staring up at the ceiling as his mind whirls, much like every other night.
His thoughts drift from one thing to another in his messed-up life. His worry over Tamlin, how he'd handle having a mate so soon. How Jurian and Vassa will make it work with her curse. What the impending war with the evil queens will bring about for Prythian. How his mother is doing. If and when Elain will decide to accept him. The rebuilding of Spring. When Beron will finally die and Eris will cash in on his bargain to be accepted as the new High Lord. What secrets Eris has been keeping all these years, much like most of the people he knows in his life.
He wonders why so many aren't truthful. Yes, at times the truth can be daunting or dangerous; risky business. But ultimately you don't have lies and crushing stories weighted on your shoulders. But then again, with Beron around you can never be too careful. Even when you think you are, you really aren't. It's never safe. He knows that lesson all too well.
Eris has learned that lesson too in other ways; getting caught by Briallyn had put some pretty nasty bruises upon his eldest brother's usually regal-looking face, no doubt courtesy of their depraved father. His attempts to completely hide his slight wincing with certain movements when he had a short meeting in Velaris had been futile, at least to Lucien, who knew all too well the signs of being whipped by Beron's roughest and most unrelenting guards, all of the Vanserra brothers had experienced it at one point or another, and only the weakest of them had let the cruelty turn them into sadists.
Meaning all but he and Eris, though for decades he had believed him to be one of them. Just more secrets that didn't need to be kept, as if he wasn't trustworthy when he had proved to nearly everyone time and time again that he is. As much as he carries distaste for Eris still for all those years, he is curious to see how his brother will be as High Lord. How he will act with Beron no longer looming over him, over them all. Wonders how his other brothers will act; if they will remain as rabid dogs or if they will soften as if freed from a spell.
Lucien takes another deep breath into his lungs and allows himself a reprieve from regality. Allows himself to grieve all of the horrific shit he has seen and suffered in his lifetime. His eyes water, the tear guard sensor on his golden eye activating with a crystal-clear sheath to protect the inner workings of it. He had lost his lively brothers from childhood, who were turned into cruel demons, he had lost his first true love by his father's hand, he had lost his eye for fighting for what was right, he had lost loyalties for things he couldn't control, he had lost his home and all he had ever known in the Autumn Court, he had lost his mother by fleeing for his life, something which always pained him to know—that she was still stuck there. Then he had lost his second home with the fallout of Tamlin and Feyre's relationship and being put in the middle yet again. He had also lost his sense of worth. Centuries of being used and abused and taken advantage of takes its toll.
Suddenly a thought floats into his mind. Elain may be his mate, but does he really deserve her? After everything he's been through, and everything that has tainted him, how could a tortured soul like his be mated to someone so gentle and seemingly dainty? Elain is tough, he has no doubt about that, but would she truly want a male who has been so tainted by evil? Who's body has not belonged to him in a very long time? Who's outward and inward appearance is scarred and jagged? He had asked Feyre to see her to see if she was worth fighting for, but in reality, it was he who wanted to know if he could connect to a kindred soul, someone who could find it in their heart to see him. Really see him. To look past the scars and the brutality and into the softest parts of him. Slowly, she has. There is also no denying some of the similarities between them. Fighting against evil for what is right and losing a part of you along the way, being looked at as if you aren't enough. Never truly belonging anywhere. Being in the middle of everything and not knowing who you truly are anymore.
This female, this once-human woman, this mate of his...as similar as they may be, how could she ever truly want someone like him? Maybe he was fooling himself. How could anyone want someone like him?
He may be the first person to prop up a downed fae, but secretly he is his own harshest critic. Looking in a mirror still bothers him and knowing the baggage he has he can't imagine anyone being able to see past all of it. Then again, he knows that everyone around him has lived similar traumas. The last generation was cold and power-hungry, not to mention how much they despised humans. It was the old way of things until the sons took over...unfortunately for Eris Beron is the last and refuses to die.
Rhysand's father was corrupt and dismissive. Tamlin's was vicious and vile. The feud between Rhynard and Serlan spanned over centuries before they were even birthed. Beron was in the mix, Kallias's father, Borreas, had been the epitome of an Ice Lord, cold and unmoving. The other Courts High Lords were appointed when there were no heirs, such as Helion, Thesan, and Tarquin. The magic chooses the worthiest of the title, not only by power but nobility. Helion had showed up sometime between the generations, seeming to effortlessly float under the radar of feuds and alliances. The other two were chosen after Amarantha had viciously killed the High Lords of Dawn and Summer a few years ago.
Sniffing, Lucien uses the back of his hand to wipe the tears from his face, his thoughts drifting from deserving Elain to the words Jesminda had always said to him. The way she always made him feel worthy and important even when the world didn't. Allowing himself the serenity of memories, he sinks into his pillow and his eyes slip closed. He can still see her face, hear her voice, and remember the joy of their moments as if were happening all over again.
"Luc! Stop being such a stickler and come have fun!", she squeals happily, glancing up at the trees in her yard, vividly colored autumn leaves falling from the branches like confetti.
Autumn in the Autumn Court was always a sight to behold.
"Jes...what if..."
"Shhhh", she waltzes over, her orange curls bouncing as she presses a finger to his lips, her emerald green eyes sparkling mischievously as her freckles dance all over her face when she speaks. "Today we are going to let loose and have fun. Today is going to be about us, and joy, and not caring what anyone thinks. She removes her finger from his lips and loops her pale, freckled arms around his neck, moving onto her tiptoes and touching the tip of his nose with hers. "Please?", she murmurs softly.
It's hardly possible for him to say no to her, especially when she's so damn convincing in her ways. "Jes...you know why I worry."
"Yes, I do", she replies, looking into his deep burgundy-colored irises. "We both do", she whispers tenderly. "But I don't want to live that way. In fear..."
Lucien places his forehead gently against hers and settles his hands on her hips, swaying like the branches in the breeze. "Neither do I. But there is no choice. I come with that risk...I can't tell you how sorry I am for that, and as I told you before, I'm hardly worth—mmph."
Jesminda cuts him off with a soft, but passionate kiss, weaving her fingers through his vivid auburn hair. He relents all too easily and kisses her back with the same fervor until they mutually pull away for air.
She strokes her thumb across his cheek and then across his lips. "You are worth the world, Lucien. I will never regret you. And I won't stand for you degrading yourself because of who you come from. You are the most incredible, strong, suave, and gorgeous male I have ever known, and nothing in all of Prythian or anywhere else could ever change how much I love you. How in love with you I am. It's you and me. No matter what happens. Ok? I would willingly run off and hide in the corners of the universe with you if it meant forever. So don't be sorry for one second about something you can't control."
Lucien sniffs softly and presses a kiss to her nose then to her plump lips. "I love you too. More than anything. You're the sunshine in my day and my shooting stars at night."
Jes grins cutely. "Ugh, you know I have a weakness for when you get all poetic."
He laughs deeply and spins her around, eliciting a squeal of happiness from her. "Alright my little minx, what did you have in mind for 'fun' today?"
"Hm, well, I thought it was fairly obvious", she smirks, motioning to gigantic leaf piles.
"Oh nooo..."
"Ohhh yessss", she giggles infectiously. Lucien can't help but laugh as well until she holds out her hands and a friendly yet powerful burst of wind sends him flying into the largest of the leaf piles, completely burying him as she bursts out laughing uncontrollably.
Lucien sputters and digs his way out of the leaf pit, putting a faux pout on his lips. His shirt and hair are littered with leaves as he stalks over to her intensely. "THAT was very sneaky, Puff."
Jesminda continues to laugh at how ridiculous he looks decorated and disheveled as he stomps toward her. "Uh ohhh!", she screams playfully and goes to run away but he grabs her around the waist and smirks.
"Oh yes!"
"Nooooo, put me down!", she protests, her legs dangling in the air as he carries her but her beautiful laughter never ceasing.
"Ask and you shall receive!", he shouts, tossing her into the pile as she screams, getting swallowed by them.
Lucien's deep, throaty laugh reverberates through to her soul as she slowly crawls out of the leaves into the grass.
"Luccc! I'll be picking leaves out of my hair for days!"
"Hey, don't blame me, you started it!"
"Oh yeah, I've heard that one before", she smirks and winks, making him blush deeply.
Standing back up, she begins picking the crunchy leaves from his sweater and then sliding them from his long tresses as he works a few from her curls, both of them wordless for the moment, letting the heat and attraction settle between them.
"I love you, Jesminda Wilde."
Gazing up at him, she rewards his words with a breathtaking smile, one that could cure all ailments with its sweetness.
"I love you, Lucien Vanserra. Let's go inside", she murmurs, quirking an eyebrow at him, her gaze simmering with seduction.
"With you, I'll go anywhere my little minx."
She can't help but giggle as she grabs his hand, pulling him into her small cottage and snogging him senseless the moment the door clicks into place. Lucien groans softly at her persistence and brushes his tongue along hers as they battle for dominance. With one fluid movement, he sweeps her off her feet and sets her on the closest bit of counter space, moving between her legs, his lips not leaving hers for one second until they are both breathless and panting.
Jesminda plays with his hair, twirling it between her fingers as she licks her lips, giving it a gentle tug to draw him closer. Goosebumps flow up his arms and he lets out a quiet moan of approval. "Jes..."
"Yes, love?"
Lucien meets her eyes and smiles wickedly, slowly working his nimble fingers down her sweater as he unbuttons it one by one. "I want you. Forever. My mate", he murmurs and buries his nose in the crook of her neck. She fishes deeply, all the way down to her chest as he slips the garment off her shoulders. She encircles his neck with her arms and draws his gaze back to hers.
"I want you too. Forever. My mate. Don't worry, we will feel the bond one day when the time is right. Just like so many others."
"I have zero doubt we will, my sweet."
"But for now, I think our bond is plenty strong", she giggles, removing Lucien's shirt as well and humming in approval at what she sees.
"Fuck, Luc..."
"Your wish is my command", he winks and smirks, scooping her up and whisking her away to the bedroom.
Once they were both plenty satiated, they lie panting in one another's arms, Jes lying her head upon his chest, over his heart, a serene smile on her face.
"Your heartbeat is so comforting. It's one of my favorite sounds."
Lucien blushes and toys with one of her loose curls. "Really?"
"Mhmm."
"Your laugh is one of mine. It's contagious and adorable."
Jes giggles softly. "Oh, hush you."
"Ah, see? It's true", he chuckles, pressing a kiss to her temple softly.
She grins and nuzzles his nose.
"Mhh your smile is also my favorite. It immediately makes me feel loved, and at home. You're my home, Jesminda."
"You're my home too, Lucien", she whispers soothingly. "Your smile is quite the charmer as well. One of the things that made me fall for you so hard."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah", she replies, peppering in kisses.
Moments later they are cuddled up with fresh, steaming cups of tea. Hers sweetened with honey, and his with mint. Lucien places his teacup down and takes her hand, facing her.
"What's wrong?", she asks, furrowing her brow.
"Nothing. N-Nothing is wrong. In fact, it's completely right. Completely and—and perfectly right."
She moves closer and rubs his chest softly. "Luc, you're stuttering. You never stutter..."
He takes a deep breath and nods, taking both her hands and kissing the knuckles on them both. "I know. Sorry...I just—right...okay." He slowly lowers to one knee and gazes up at her lovingly.
"Jesminda Wilde, will you marry me?"
A soft gasp escapes her lips and immediately the waterworks begin, tears flowing down her cheeks. "Mother bless me...Lucien!? Yes!", she cried, becoming a blubbering mess. "Gods, yes!"
Lucien stands and hugs her tightly. They cling to each other for what seems like hours even though only a few minutes have passed. "I love you."
"I love you, too. So much. The—the time felt right, and I know I don't have a ring yet, but I will get you one and it will be the most gorgeous ring in all of Prythian, for the most gorgeous female in all of Prythian."
"Oh, Luc...I don't need a ring when I have you. You are my jewel, love."
Tears spring to his russet eyes and he can't help but kiss her again soundly.
"You're getting a ring."
Jesminda laughs softly and nods. "Alright, I'm getting a ring." She can't help but squeal happily and jump into his arms once again. "Oh my gods I can't believe we're getting married! Lucien, we're gonna be true mates...I-I'm gonna be your wife, you'll be my husband. That's the best thing ever", she beams through her tears.
"That we are, my sweet. That we are. It's absolutely the best thing ever", he grins.
Two days later, Jesminda was wearing her engagement ring and they were planning their elopement. Four days later, she was murdered by Beron. Lucien was pinned down and forced to watch as her battered form was dragged out from the dungeon, but she kept her steely resolve and the fire of determination in her eyes. She was thrown to the concrete in the large viewing courtyard of the Autumn Court mansion. Beron sat high on his throne, a malicious and deadly glare in his eye. He nods to someone and suddenly the three brothers who had dragged him out here forced him into a kneel as guards forced Jesminda to do the same, facing him, but yards away. Even still, he could see her love for him shining in her eyes, clouding through the fear. This was it. They were both going to die. At least they would be together with the Mother.
Tears fall down both of their faces. But when a guard pulls one of his father's special swords, and his brothers remain pinning him down, no other swordsman in sight, he knew what was coming next. He was going to be made to suffer for his supposed treason. Death for him would be a kindness to Beron.
"No! Please, please! Don't, please, father! I'll do whatever you want! I'll be whatever you want! I'll give you anything, please!", his screams of anguish echoed through the courtyard and his eyes had landed on Beron's vacant ones before quickly moving back to Jesminda's.
Her lip trembles, and she has fresh cuts and bruises on her face, but manages to smile at him the way he had always loved as she mouths 'I love you.'
Lucien can help the sobs that are ripped from his throat as he begs over and over again, before his desperation turns to anger, his eyes light up with the firepower he possesses inside as he roughly tries to fight his three brothers off, willing them to ignite. However, when they instead chuckle and sneer, he quickly realizes that he was poisoned with faebane. Despite that, he keeps twisting and turning, using all the strength he has to overcome them, to no avail.
"Please!", he screams louder, to anyone.
The sword is unsheathed with a heavy metallic ringing sound and he tries to lunge to get to her over and over, keeping her gaze. "No! No, please. Please I'll do anything, don't hurt her, please!"
Jes looks directly into his eyes and mouths again, 'I love you, always', as tears flood her battered face.
The guard lifts the sword to his shoulder, waiting for the signal from Beron.
"Stop!", Lucien shrieks loudly, yanking and tugging at his arms as hard as he can, painfully bruised and most likely bloodied from where his brothers' fingers dig into his flesh crushingly.
"Jes, I love you! I love you! I love you! I'm so sorry!", he screams through sobs as Beron gives the signal. "Jes! Nooo!"
The sword comes down swiftly and expertly, the entire weight of the blade quickly removing her head from her body Lucien is unable to stop the bloodcurdling screams being ripped from his lungs as her kneeling form falls over limply. He bawls uncontrollably, his brothers finally shoving him forward, earning him fresh scrapes to his face, but he doesn't care. He immediately crawls over to her as fast as possible and collapses next to both parts, her curls limply gathered on the concrete, partially hiding her once full of life features and her eyes dulled and empty; completely stilled, not a single reminiscent spark of her soul left within them.
Lucien screams and cries, not knowing what to do with himself as he bows tragically onto the pavement, the blood staining his pants and covering his skin as his forearms and fists are quickly surrounded. His head rests upon them as his crimson hair falls into and blends with the vivid red of her blood. His body trembles uncontrollably as his agony renders him helpless.
He can't help the stream of tears from staining his face and spotting his pillow as he blinks the blur away. Of all the things he could have or should have done in his life, she was his biggest regret. Not running sooner, not hiding in the farthest corner of the universe to have their forever together. The day Elain was thrown into the Cauldron and came out his mate, he wasn't ecstatic. He wasn't filled with hope, and it wasn't just from her trauma, but from his own. To him, Jes was always his mate. Letting that belief go means that she was never meant for him and he refuses to believe that. Even if they weren't mates, the love was there, and she was perfect for him in every way. How could she not have been his mate?
When he looked at Elain, he saw the fear and the confusion and the helplessness in her eyes and it took him back to that day when he was the same, and blurting out 'you're my mate' wasn't exactly in the plans, but he was stunned. Ever since he has been trying to figure out why Elain is his mate, and Jes wasn't. Or if Elain is just one of those rare second chance mates some lucky bastards get...like Tamlin apparently. But it leaves him confused as ever. Going on principle, he will always consider Jes his first mate. And he will never know if the bond would or wouldn't have been there because they didn't get the chance to find out. But...yes. She was his mate, regardless. And now...centuries later Elain is here and finally opening up and he yearns for that kind of connection again. However, he is a completely different male right now than he was over four centuries ago. Not just in appearance either, but in spirit.
Though, if the Mother and the Cauldron gave him Elain...he will do right by her. He will heal alongside her, and if she deems him worthy, he won't waste time arguing her feelings or whining about his self-loathing. It wastes precious time that is never guaranteed to any of them. He knows that now. And if it came down to the two of them again, he would make damn sure that he wouldn't let his mate die again. He'd protect her by any means necessary, even if he had to destroy every single part of himself to do it.