Elain holds her forehead as soon as they land at the Dawn Court border. Lucien wraps an arm around her waist to steady her and kisses her temple. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. It just—it still takes me a moment to recover from winnowing still. Makes me lightheaded whether I do it on my own or with someone else."

Lucien tugs her close to his side and rubs her shoulder soothingly. "It's okay. Take a breath."

A small smile tugs at her lips and she peers up at him. "I'll be okay. Thank you for your concern though." Leaning up on her toes, she places a kiss on his cheek. Looking towards the Dawn Court castle, her expression suddenly goes stormy.

"What's wrong?"

"Hm? Nothing."

"Elain..."

She sighs softly. "It's Briar."

"What about her?"

"She's—well, she may not always be this sweet."

Lucien's brow pinches together. "You've only met her, what, twice? Does this have to do with what happened at the Winter Court? How you told Rhys and Feyre that she was Tamlin's mate?"

Elain sighs and looks down at her hands. "Yes. But I...I don't know how my power works. What I'm allowed or not allowed to do with them. If I can talk freely about my visions or if talking about them will change them for the worst. It worries me."

"But you already told them."

"Not everything", she whispers.

His unscarred eyebrow raises. "What exactly does 'not everything' mean, mate?"

Swallowing hard, she wraps an arm around him as a guard comes to collect them, walking feet in front of them to lead them to the entrance of the castle. "She's like me", she whispers.

"Like you...? A seer?"

"No. No not—not a seer. Cauldron-blessed. I could sense it. Much like I sense it when I'm around Nesta."

Lucien draws in a breath. "Wow. Three of you."

"But that still isn't all. I had a vision. It must be of the future. I just saw...roses and people dancing and—what looked like a navy blue dress, like Feyre's. But I don't think she would ever set foot in Spring again. She's still so bitter about it, about Tamlin and what he did to her."

Lucien takes her hand as her arm falls away from his back and gives it a squeeze. "It wasn't a good time to be there after...after..."

"I know", she whispers.

"Feyre is impulsive, and stubborn, and independent. Normally that isn't a problem, and in many situations it's enviable. But after what she went through, and after she realized she was fae, it's like she went on overdrive. She thought she could take on the world; slay every enemy simply because she lived after Amarantha. And in lieu of seeing her fall by enemy hands again, Tamlin was extremely terrified of seeing that again. He was in love with her, but his fear controlled every aspect of his mind after..." Lucien shakes his head. "He was ruled by the horror of her dying in front of him every day and every night. Both of them thought ignoring their trauma would make it fade away, but it only made it worse. They didn't communicate. She tried to speak with him, and he doesn't like being vulnerable. He tried to gift her paints and encourage her to paint again, and she couldn't find the motivation. So they kept miscommunicating. And eventually, it made for tense and angry conversations when they did speak.

That day, Feyre wanted to jump in and help us slay Hybern monsters at the border. Tamlin needed to see her safe. It made for messy yelling matches. One day, she refused to listen to him. Refused to make a compromise to roam with guards, and refused to acknowledge his fear for her. You know Feyre...when she wants something she wants something. She basically told him that no matter what we said or encouraged her to do to be safe, she would follow us to the monsters. So yes. Tamlin got angry out of pure panic for her life and when she stormed inside instead of going with guards, he shielded her in the house to hide her from Hybern, who was knowingly tracking her for being the first Made fae. He wanted her and it was no secret.

Because they had miscommunicated so much, he didn't know her triggers, and she didn't know his. But I'm assuming one of them for her was being enclosed...from the cell Amarantha had her in. When Tamlin walked away she began to absolutely freak out. I tried—I-I tried to calm her. I tried to tell her I'd talk to Tamlin because I couldn't undo his magic. I told her we would be back shortly and they could talk. As I was leaving the house, I saw bursts of light and her screams. Elain, I swear if I could have fixed them both If I could have made them both better I—"

"It wasn't your fault. I know that. I know you had no control over it. But I also understand how they both could have been terrified and bitter. I certainly was...to you, even though my fate wasn't your fault. You were just there and—it was easier to hate you than it was to accept you, in my own trauma. It was pretty much the same for Nesta too before she finally healed and accepted Cassian. I think it must have been like that for Feyre, especially because she chose to fight for him and his Court. But, I don't think Feyre has let herself think about it. Even still. They never got a chance to really discuss what happened. Rhys brought her to the Night Court and that was it, you know? There was no resolution. I got to heal and warm up to you. Nesta was an absolute mess and at times Cassian made it worse, much like Tamlin probably did. But she and Cass worked it out. I think Feyre and Tamlin should talk at some point. About everything, good and bad. He did save Rhys's life during the war. Hell, at the Hybern camp when I was kidnapped, he saved Feyre and Azriel, and me because I was in Azriel's arms. Briar too. Feyre was holding her as we tried to escape, and we couldn't. That has to say something. It wasn't right what he did back then, even if I can understand his terror. Maybe I'm a terrible sister for saying this but, I think Tamlin, as gruff as he still and probably always will be, I think he's earned forgiveness. Obviously, only Feyre can give that. I'm not sure she ever will. But again, he saved her mate's life. His enemy's life—for her. That's one hell of an apology if I ever heard."

Lucien kisses her hand as Elain sighs. "I think you are an incredibly beautiful soul, Elain Archeron."

Elain blushes deeply and looks over at him. "As are you, Lucien Vanserra."

"I just hope that if my vision is true...that trouble isn't stirred up."

"Me too. Tamlin has been working on himself and he hasn't once bothered them or instigated anything. Rhys has, and I don't understand why he can't simply leave him alone. He knows I'm working with Tamlin. New guards are being trained and the rebuild is more than halfway finished now. The border has been secure, no humans dare to even come close to where the wall fell."

"If I thought she would listen, I'd try to talk to Feyre about it...but considering that she had a hand in their destruction—", he winces a bit. "I don't think she'd much like to talk about him or the Spring Court."

"I'd agree, mate."

"Gosh, I can't see Feyre going to Spring for a healthy chat though. As much as I'd pray for that...it makes me really worry. If my vision is during happy times, it's in the future. And if Briar is his mate, I'm assuming it's when they know about it, if he's that happy? It—It looked like a party, but it goes by so fast it's a bit of a blur."

Lucien clears his throat. "Calanmai?"

"Is that the er...", she flushes red. "The—the sex night?", she whispers as if it's a bad word.

He laughs heartily and strokes her hand. "Mate you are so prudish. It's adorable. But yes, that is, how you put it, sex night to infuse the land with magic for the coming year. You didn't see what happened when he did not have a Rite. His lands were withered and brown, dead. Lifeless. Just like the High Lord, in a way."

"I'm not sure if it was Calanmai."

"Either that or the revitalization and grand reopening of Spring once rebuilds are finished. Tamlin thought having a Spring festival would be lovely before Calanmai. To bring the Court peace, to invite the citizens who had fled to Summer home again, and prove that Spring will be back to full function better than it ever has been. Food vendors, musicians, decorations, and streamers. A very Tamlin-like event. It made me happy to hear that he wanted such a thing. It's been so so long since he celebrated anything of his own choice. Before the curse, and after he had saved me from Autumn, and we had become friends, he was a fucking riot to be around. Funny and prideful and extremely sarcastic. He loved music. There was music constantly. Dancing at night by small fires, and lots of drinking. I knew that it was his way of coping with all of the trauma that had been pent up since childhood. His family was worse than mine in sadism. We had a lot in common actually. But Tam, he wasn't like them. He vowed to never be like them. But alas, Hybern and Amarantha was still around. His father's best evil friends. They were like the twisted trio. I think celebrating that he was alive still and coping was his way of reminding himself that he really was thriving.

And then Amarantha came calling for his hand over and over. He's been disgusted by her since he was a child. She—there's things I cannot divulge due to privilege and promise, but she had been vile to him for his entire life. He was happy for a short few decades...and once the curse was put in place I saw how fucking heavy the burden of guilt was on him. The what ifs. The constant wondering if he should submit to her to save his people. He nearly gave up so many times. He was...he was never the same. Became angry and hateful towards himself. Anxious all the time, panic attacks often. He lost so many friends trying to break the curse in all sorts of magical ways. Which only led to more guilt. Soon his entire close-knit friend group was gone aside from me."

Elain stares at him with wide eyes, their steps dramatically slow, and the guard too far ahead that he looked like an ant.

"I decided to fucking confront Amarantha like an idiot, to try and keep her at bay; I called it official emissary duty. And, well...", he motions to his eye. "It only turned into an argument where I told her to go back to the fucking hole she crawled out of. I know, not intelligent on my part. She dug my eye out with her fingernail. Once I was dumped back at the Spring Manor, Tam found me. Doubled over and vomited...a lot. And we had seen our fair share of blood so you can imagine what I looked like if I got a High Lord to puke..." He swallows hard and his jaw ticks.

Elain's eyes water and she stops, throwing her arms around him, sniffling. He draws her close and presses his body against hers, his head falling to her shoulder and his scarlet hair draping over his shoulder. "I wish I had been there to help murder her."

Lucien shakes his head and nuzzles her neck. "One Archeron sister being destroyed by her very presence was enough. Plus, I would not have survived if she had ever threatened you. I would have done anything for my mate, and she would have known that...I would not have survived if you had been there, Elain. Because I would have given my life for yours in a heartbeat if that's what she had demanded.

Elain cries weakly. "It wasn't fair to any of you. Not my sister, and not you, Lucien. Nobody should ever have had to go through that. I know everything worked out for Prythian, for us, and for Feyre. But that doesn't negate how it came to be. Tragedies."

"Tragedies indeed", he murmurs.

"Feyre is still haunted by—by innocents she told me she was forced to kill. But especially by Nesta's friend's death."

Lucien raises his head and meets her eyes knowingly. "The Beddor girl."

Elain nods weakly. "Her family was nice. I wasn't involved with them but Nesta would seem to smile each time she had been in contact with them."

"Explains some of her rage towards Feyre at first."

Nibbling her lip, she starts walking again. "I don't think there is one person that we know who hasn't done something horrible in their life. Drastic measures and all...I'm not perfect either. I was a bad sister. I was ignorant. I loved our father when I shouldn't have."

Lucien gently grabs her chin and shakes his head. "There are no conditions to love, Elain. As you said, not one person is perfect. Everybody has done something they regret. Your father was neglectful, no doubt, but he carried the guilt of that as he should have. However, I can tell you with absolute certainty that he loved and adored each of you. I traveled with him, remember? He was weary with guilt. Prayed for his sins against you three each night. Cried himself to sleep hoping you were all alive and safe, wishing he could redo the years prior. He said I wasn't the monster he imagined the fae to be", chuckles lightly. "I told him that most days we weren't unless the ones we love are put in danger. Much like humans."

"What did he say?", she whispers, barely audibly, her lip trembling.

Lucien tears up a bit and looks at her. "That his fae daughters were not monsters; that he would love you all regardless of what you became. That he would prove to you three that he could redeem himself. That one day before he died, he would earn forgiveness from each of you personally. Even if that's what killed him", his voice shakes slightly and he swallows the lump in his throat.

Elain presses her lips together hard to prevent a sob from escaping as tears begin to make their way down her cheeks. "You never told me this."

"I didn't want to upset you further."

"I arrived too late" she chokes out.

"Oh, Elain...no."

"Yes. I did", she lets out a sob. "If I had gotten there just moments sooner. Nesta wouldn't have had to watch that and he—"

The guard shouts from the bridge going across a Dawn Court River.

"Give us a moment!", Lucien shouts. He tugs her tightly to him and sways. "Don't you dare for one second think that you could have prevented his death. Elain, you did everything you could that day. You struck the first killing blow. You disabled the King of Hybern. You are a hero too."

"I didn't get to say goodbye."

Lucien closes his eyes and strokes her hair. "I'm so sorry."

"I was given a second chance and he wasn't. He was trying, Lucien. He was trying to make it up to us", she cries. "His life wasn't the easiest either. I don't think Feyre knows everything, but I remember how turbulent everything was between our parents. I was young but not as young as her. My father wanted to work closer to be around us. To be there for us. My mother forced him to keep being a merchant, she was too used to the influx of money. The high life. She wouldn't settle for less. He did love her, he loved her to a fault. To his own detriment." She looks down.

"So he continued, but when he was home, he tried to get my grandmother out of the house. Tried to force my mother to evict her over what she was doing to Nesta. He was furious. He was sick about it. But mother was—was adamant that it was good for her, how she grew up, and that it made her a strong woman and not a weak b-bitch."

"Then she died."

"Yes. Caught a disease."

"Karma", Lucien grumbles.

"Yes...I wonder if I've always been a terrible daughter and sister. Maybe we were all born broken. Between having a broken man as a father and a stone-cold mother who never showed love to her children. But he tried, tried for his marriage, tried for the wellbeing of his girls, tried so he wouldn't be like his own parents who despised each other and left him to fend for his own during bad fights. He told me this when we were older and poor. He already saw himself as a failure, so he became that failure. Maybe we were always doomed to wither as human beings. Because I can't think of a moment that I loved my mother. And that sounds disturbing.''

"No. It doesn't, Elain. I would know. I had the same relationship with Beron as Nesta had with Elain. All of my siblings do."

"Feyre was young when she died. She had never been struck or verbally destroyed by the woman or her vile mother who died when I was an early adolescent. Nesta was stone-cold at her funeral, though I caught her smirking at a few points. But my mother...my mother couldn't have cared less about what Feyre did, ever. She got to be my father's child. Nesta and I were her little dolls. I think that a part of me carried disdain for Feyre, for the freedom she had and the way she didn't understand who my mother truly was. When she made her promise to carry the family, she took that to heart. Nesta was so mad at her for giving my mother a dying wish that she let her carry it out. And me...I went along because Nesta had always looked out for me. In a way, I figured since Feyre made her the promise and chose to carry it out, it was no fault of mine if she did. Despite still being grateful for it."

"You were a child too, Elain."

"I was still older."

"It wasn't fair to any of you that you were in that situation. It was your father's."

"It was my mother's. She made him make the deal with those bad characters to uphold her status when his sales commissions were drastically suffering. Then she died. Everything went under and he couldn't pay. So they collected with his quality of life. Came by and attacked him in front of us, bashed his leg until it was so bloody we could barely make out flesh from bone. All of this led back to my mother. I don't know why my father fell for her in the beginning. We never got the chance to ask. But I love to just believe that they were different back then. I love to imagine she loved him for more than money. But I know that's not true because of how she was also raised; how she tried to raise us. As bartering tools for fortune. For dowries. She didn't care about love. It was about money and riches. To think I nearly did what I was bred to do. To be like her. To think that Graysen and I—", she takes a shuddering breath.

Lucien leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips. She nearly hums pleasurably with the soft feel of him.

Looking into his eyes, she holds a deep love in her own, expressing it without words.

"My magnificent mate", he smiles softly, kissing the corner of her mouth. "I love you, too."

"I was sick of being a means to an end. Of being a prop. A pretty face on an arm, or the completion of a trio, or the comfort of a lonely soul. I wanted love. True love. Real love. Something apart from how I was bred. I wanted something I could feel and see. A passion that ran deep. That was you, Lucien. Not Graysen, not Azriel. And you were right. The mate bond doesn't determine love, it determines power. It scared me because my mother married my father for power and riches. I didn't want that. Not after Graysen. I didn't want anyone to be entitled to me. You also told me once that despite the tug of the mate bond, it doesn't make you love me, only desire my proximity."

"That remains true. I fell in love with you once I experienced your character. Who you are. The fun we had together when we had the chance."

"You told me the things you liked about me. A list. I think it was one of the things that made me fall hard. Because...Graysen only ever had one compliment for me. That I was pretty. Same thing my mother would say. I'm not just my face or just an Archeron sister. You mentioned so much more than my beauty, and it was the first time anyone had ever vocalized liking any other part of me. And I could see the glaring honesty in your eyes and the love you held when you looked at me. It was overpowering and overwhelming to be told I was more than my looks when I never had been. And Nesta and I broke that cycle of believing our worth was only our looks or our dowry. Something Feyre never had to believe, and she was lucky in that regard. But when you started listing all those other things about me, you saw more than beauty. You saw me for who I am."

"And I always will, Elain", he murmurs, pressing his forehead to hers. "I have no right to judge you based on beauty because I am certainly judged for my lack of."

She shakes her head. "Lucien, I've told you—"

"I know what you've told me. But not everyone looks at me the way you do, my love."

Stroking his cheek she smiles lightly. "I'd be shocked if anyone looked at you and wasn't taken aback by your utter gorgeousness Lucien."

He lets out a howling laugh and Elain giggles.

"Stoppp. Stop laughing, I mean it. I truly mean it."

"I know you do, it's one of the reasons I love you", he smiles. "But I highly doubt anyone is looking at this face and their mind comes up with 'gorgeous' to describe me. Probably more along the lines of creepy or revolting or even rugged."

"Absolutely not"

"Mhhh."

"No way, Lucien. There is no way."

"I've seen the looks."

"Yeah, the looks of females and males drooling over you most likely."

He laughs again. "The way you drooled over me the first time you saw me?"

"I never flinched away from you. Nesta may have pulled me away and I may not have been in the right state of mind...but my first thought of you was 'beautiful'. And that's not a lie."

Lucien blushes and looks down, grabbing her hand again. "You did meet my gaze."

"I did. In both of your wonderfully different eyes."

"It shocked me, along with the mate bond snapping at that moment."

"It snapped because I wasn't afraid of you. I didn't shy away. Not at first. Plus you did escape Hybern chains to protect me, before that."

"It wasn't right how they wanted to humiliate you further." Lucien shakes his head at the memory.

"Always the gentleman. I kept that jacket you know. I suppose you can finally have it back", she giggles.

He smirks and swings their arms lightly, walking toward the bridge. "If it brings you comfort when I am away, I'm glad for you to have it."

"It gave me comfort when I heard your heartbeat. I still do when you're away. Like it's in the walls of my room. Reminding me you're okay. Soothes me, and your scent on your jacket helps too."

"Good."

"Now. Briar. I suppose we have kept them waiting long enough already."

He snorts. "Thesan won't be thrilled at our tardiness. But he's a good few centuries younger than me."

Elain smirks. "I'll make sure he doesn't make any underhanded comments. No need to worry. Plus, what good are the looks I was born with, if not to get my mate out of trouble?"

Lucien lets out another howling laugh as the guard huffs annoyedly, crossing them over the bridge to the entrance of the Dawn Castle, Thesan's outline crossing his arms as Briar rocks back and forth on her heels impatiently.