Elain is pacing back and forth in the living area of the River House, still shouting when they return. Rhysand's arms are crossed, and he seems to be refusing to look directly at her. Feyre is beside him, looking pale. Amren is nowhere to be found, Lucien notes. Most likely otherwise occupied with Varian. Cassian and Nesta immediately returned to their home, with Cassian mentioning something about not wanting to start up the drama again and how Nesta didn't need more stress. Whatever that meant; probably that Rhys is in a mood. Azriel and Gwyn had done the same.

Mor passes him a glance that seems to say "Good luck", and sneaks off to her bedroom, avoiding them as well.

Great.

Lucien walks in and casually leans on the archway frame, crossing one leg over the other and watching Elain shout at them, something about Rhys's audacity to claim he gives women choices. Yikes.

He can't help but snicker, and amongst her flailing, she half-turns and her eye catches on him. She stops mid-sentence and looks him over. The anger creates a type of fire in her, one that his magic sings to, the bond thrumming with delicious tension at the way her gaze roves over him. He has to stop himself from licking his lips, so instead, he flashes her a smirk.

Rhys grumbles. "Finally. Control your mate, she's going mad."

"Sorry, Rhysie, I don't control my female. I quite thrive when she is "mad". Makes her all the more desirable. Something about my veins and fire...well, you probably heard the rumors", he snarks, his russet eye flickering with antagonistic energy.

Rhys's lip curls and Feyre places a hand on his chest. "Leave it", she coos. "Let's go cool off, hm?" He grunts and reluctantly follows her out of the room.

Elain blushes delectably and he pushes off, sauntering over to her and pulling her close. "I missed you."

She wraps her arms tightly around his neck. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Yeah...now I am. Still shaken, but—he's okay."

"Eris is alive", she gasps. "How?"

"It's a long story. Your sister and Gwyn used the Dread Trove, similar to how they saved Feyre. Gwyn made a pact with the Cauldron, it was a whole big thing. But it worked out. And everyone will be okay now...I'm sorry you had to see that vision. Seeing him in person like that...", he trails off, taking a shaking breath. "It's fine now."

Elain gently cups his cheek. "I can see how much stress that put on you. I don't have the best relationship with my sisters, but seeing Feyre like that Under the Mountain the way you did—", she chokes up. "It got me so mad. To know he was part of it. The biggest part of it. I just...I lost it. So I can imagine how you felt seeing your brother like that."

Lucien buries his face in her neck and breathes her in, swaying softly. "I think we are well and truly balancing each other out. Before, I would have probably done something stupid in my anger, like tracked Beron down for it. And you, my flower, I'd have imagined that you would have cried and cried and not confronted him."

"You cried?", she whispers brokenly. "By yourself?"

He looks down a bit, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. "It worked out."

"That doesn't take away the stress, the sadness, or the anger. We all know that."

Lucien looks into her eyes and leans his forehead on hers. "I'm proud of you. For finding your voice, sweet doe."

Elain smiles slightly and strokes his lips, the bond still humming with the tension between them, their emotions heightening it.

She drags a finger over the lower part of his scar and then the curve of his jaw. "Let's go home. My nerves are on edge still", she says, a sparkling glint in her eye.

Lucien grins and nods. "As are mine. Maybe we can...satiate them."

Her breath lightly catches in her throat and she clings to him. Before he can winnow them to his, now their, apartment, Elain does, causing Lucien's laugh to fade in the air as they go.

Landing in their quaint apartment, Elain smirks and shoves Lucien against the closest wall. Lucien's eyes widen with amusement and desire. "Elain", he murmurs, his voice roughening.

Her giggle runs through his veins, hot warmth like liquid sunshine. "You quote enjoy when I handle you, I've noticed."

"Gods, yes", he replies, yanking her closer against his body. She can feel the hard planes of his chest and stomach against her front, so close to him that their noses nearly touch, their now panting breaths intermingling. She lets out a shocked gasp when he rips her blouse off with one hand, buttons flying every which way as he lowers his lips to the side of her neck, his voice hoarse. "I'll buy you another."

Elain moves her hands between them and begins unbuttoning his dark green tunic as quickly as possible with her shaking hands, a breathy moan escaping her from his languid assault of a spot on her neck that he knows is more sensitive.

"Lu—ohh", she pants, separating herself from him, just enough to yank his tunic off his body before shredding the white shirt underneath, ripping it in two with both hands. "Oops", she murmurs, a playful smile on her lips. Her body thrums with desire as his russet eye flickers with his inner fire.

Using her faerie speed, she grips his arms and in a flash, he's laying beneath her on their bed, another glorious laugh spilling from his lips as he gazes up at her with that look of love that he gives only to her. That look that says "I am yours, and you are mine. Like calls to like. Mine. My mate."

"I must admit, you gave me the best private five hundredth birthday party ever a few months ago, and getting to slide that magenta chiffon dress off of your body was a gift in and of itself, but there's something so simple and beautiful about you being all disheveled in your everyday clothes. Something so primal that hits me when I look at you half-dressed on top of me in nothing but leggings and a lacy brassiere", he groans, goosebumps erupting on his golden skin.

Elain uses both of her hands to tease, stroking up and down his pecs before tracing the lines of his abs, licking her lips, and admiring her view as he holds himself back from nearly writhing from only her touch.

"Ellie", he warns lowly, his body beginning to give off that golden glow that happens when he's at his happiest...or most horny. As she has personally witnessed.

"Mhh, yes my sexy fox?"

"Must I beg, lady?"

Elain laughs and leans down to kiss him slowly, teasingly, dragging her tongue over the seam of his plump lips. "You must", she murmurs demandingly.

Lucien growls playfully and it sends tingles throughout her entire being, right through to her core, aching for him to fill her, yet he's barely gotten the chance to touch her yet.

He roams his hands along her body and leans close to her ear. "Please, my sweet, perfect, beautiful, oh-so-powerful mate. I will simply go mad if you don't fuck me and take your pleasure."

Her body shudders and she moans softly as he drags his thumbs over her nipples, the hardened peaks pressing against the thin fabric of her brassiere. "Lucien", she breathes out.

He smirks and flips them over. The moment her back is pressed against the mattress, she realizes there is no longer anything between her breasts and the open air. And before she even processes that, she feels his mouth teasing one of those nubs; hot and wet, sending sparks through her as she mewls with approval, her back arching slightly.

"I'll make you want for me so much that you'll lose all control and use me to chase every second of desire that you crave. And I will be all too willing to feel you come undone on top of me. I'll make sure you're good and ready."

She runs her hands through his red locks, and he groans against her skin, moving to the other breast and giving it the same treatment, before trailing kisses down her body. Elain writhes and says his name like a prayer, his kisses like a brand, an addiction, every single nerve within her on fire for this male. She would be embarrassed by acting so wanton before, but this male was made for her, and she for him. Mates. She and Lucien. Forever. He'll never hurt her, judge her, deny her. Hasn't since the moment he met her.

Lucien pants hard and slips her leggings and undergarments off, moaning at the sight of her laid bare before him. "Fuck, Ellie."

Looking down at him with hooded eyes, she flashes him a needy grin, biting her lip teasingly.

Lucien sends her a saccharine grin before lowering himself to nestle between her thighs. She moans with anticipation, her hips slightly raised.

"Aren't we excited?", he grumbles deeply, the heady scent of her making him unbearably hard in his breeches. Leaning forward he kisses her thighs, her abdomen, everywhere but exactly where she needs him.

"L-Lucien", she whimpers, and he nearly comes undone by it. With one low growl and a flick of his fire-blazing eye up at her, his mouth is on her core, licking up her center as she whines and squirms beneath his slow ministrations.

All Lucien can think of as he feasts on her is simply how much this female overcomes him; mind, body, and soul. 'Elain. Elain. Elain.' Her name rings out in his head over and over like a spellbound chant.

Elain. Her scent. Her taste. Her noises. Her movements. And he wants it all, needs it all.

'My Elain."

Her moans of pleasure get louder as he continues, his tongue working her in ways she's never felt before. When he moves his thumb to her clit and applies pressure, she squeals his name and tugs his vivid locks, eliciting a loud groan from him, urging him to bring her to her climax.

He moves his thumb in slow circles, putting just the right amount of pressure as she comes closer to the edge, then replaces it with his mouth as she tumbles over it, screaming out his name. Lucien nearly finishes in his breeches with the sound of it but holds himself back until he can enjoy their bodies joined together.

Elain moans breathlessly over and over as her eyes move down to reach his. His movements are slow, yet utterly feral as he languidly enjoys her through her orgasm. She can't help the wracking tremble that flitters down her spine.

"Lucien", she nearly growls, and he chuckles lightly, kissing her hipbone.

"Yes, my sweet sunbeam?"

She blushes. Without fail. Every time he uses any sort of silly pet name.

"It's my turn", she murmurs, stroking her fingers through his ruby tresses. "Please?"

Lucien can't help the heat that ravels directly to his cock and makes his abs tighten. "Fuck...yes."

Elain flashes him a partially sweet, partially feral grin of her own before flipping them, pressing her mate into the mattress once again. She pants and beholds his naked form, her skin heating and glowing with a soft brilliance. "Mmm...did you know that you do that?", she murmurs, straddling his hips.

"Do what?", he chokes out, his voice roughened with need.

"You glow", she answers, a tone of awe in her breathy voice.

"Lucien looks himself over and blinks. "Shit. I mean...no. I don't think I have before."

Elain beams and licks her lips. "I must be special to have you glowing with power then."

"Gods, Elain", he grumbles, his hands traveling up her thighs to rest on her hips, stroking her soft skin. "You are more than special. You are perfection. You are the best. And you are mine."

Her hips roll and the slickness of her glides along his length. He can't help the moan that escapes him as he tightens his grip on her hips. "Oh, fuck. Just like that, Ellie." Lucien pants and folds his hands over his head as he watches her move on top of him.

"Mmm, and you are mine, you sly fox." Leaning forward, she slides her hands up the muscles of his biceps, then the corded muscles of his forearms, before prying his hands apart and intertwining their fingers, pinning his hands on either side of him with a teasing smirk.

His breath quickens and he lets out a deep, needy growl, his eyes locked on hers. "Elain, I swear if you don't start moving I'm going to burst."

Her skin erupts in goosebumps and she rolls her hips, soft gasps escaping her lips as her eyes become hooded. Her core becomes slicker, and she squeezes his hands, moving faster against him. When she lifts her hips and sinks down onto him he sees stars, using all of his willpower to hold back from exploding right there and then.

"Elain", he moans, the soft aura around his body glowing brighter as his pleasure intensifies.

She lets out a chuffed laugh through her moans as she adjusts to his girth, a perfect and spine-tingling fit each time they had made love so far, which had only been twice. Trailing her nose down his jaw, she makes her way to his ear and whispers, "you fill me so perfectly and deliciously, mate. You're so big and thick."

He gasps and can't help the outward shudder that wracks his body, bucking his hips.

"L-Lucien", she moans erotically, moving her hips steadily and rhythmically as he rolls his beneath her, meeting her thrust for thrust.

Lucien's eyes are glued to his mate's face as she uses him to chase her pleasure. Eyes hooded, jaw slack, skin slick with sweat, and hair slightly curled from the humidity and looking burnished from the equal glow that her body gives off, just like his.

As they climb closer and closer to the edge, neither of them truly knows where one's moan starts and the other's stops. They are a flurry of moving flesh and filthy noises that fill the small apartment.

One final grunt and squeal and they reach their climax together, Elain, laying slack on his heaving chest as she pants, both of them reveling in their highs and soaking up the afterglow. Elain smiles and brings their hands down to gaze at them, that brilliant golden light surrounding them both now. True mates. Equals. Embodiments of sunshine and warmth.

.

.

.

Briar slowly lifts her spoon to her mouth, the soul-warming stew delicious as any she's had in the Winter Court. Every meal that she has had here has been incredible. Staring into her bowl, she wonders what her mother would make of this place. Of her, of this new life she was rebirthed into. A pang of heartache rings through her, and she realizes that the only comfort she had when her mother died was that she would eventually grow old and join her in the next life. And now..." She swallows hard and stirs it absently, not processing that tears are silently spilling down her cheeks.

Without thinking, Tamlin leans across the table and tips her chin to look at him, her eyes now pink and puffy and her tears glimmering in the faelights. He uses his thumb to brush them from her cheek, as tenderly as he can. "What's weighing on you?"

That must be the first genuine inquiry he has made to her. She sniffles and hugs herself, looking down at her arms. "It will sound crazy..."

"Try me."

"I miss my mother", she whispers brokenly.

"Is—"

"She's dead", she chokes out. "Sh-She died before...all of this happened to me."

He inclines his head and props it up on his hand, looking over at her, concerned. "I understand."

"Do you?"

"I mean, I know what it's like to lose a mother too soon."

Her eyes flick up to his with slight curiosity, the pretty blue still veiled with tears. "When she died, my only comfort was that one day, I was going to grow old and join her. See her again." Her lower lip trembles and she looks away as her face crumbles. More tears stream down her face.

He can't stop his heart from clenching at the sight of her upset, and before he realizes it, he's in front of her; kneeled in front of her, his head tipped up to look into those baby blues again. A sob rips from her and she collapses into his arms. He goes rigid but swallows hard, easing his arms around her loosely, before allowing himself the moment to accept the hug; kind touches are nonexistent to him, so he relishes in it as much as she takes comfort from it.

She sobs for a while, and he simply stays there, kneeling on the ground as they cling to one another.

In a literal flash, they are in a bedroom. She barely blinks to register the flurry of movement before she gasps at how fast he is.

Tamlin sits her on the edge of her bed and brushes hair from her cheeks. "Mortals love to believe that immortality is a gift and a power and a strength. While it can be, it is also equally a curse that is very difficult to live with. The losses, the heartbreaks, the tragedies, the pain...it lingers. It lasts much, much longer. I am sorry about your mother. But I'm sure if she loved you that much, nothing would have mattered to her. I've witnessed mothers like that. Would love their child even if worse came to worst."

She sniffles and wipes her face, beautifully flushed, and looks at him as he paces a bit, his gaze glued out the window to the rose garden. "Your mother?"

He scoffs and shakes his head. "Ah, no. No, unfortunately. She...cared. There was a large part of her that did love me. I saw it, I was not blind to it when the moments would happen, however sparingly", he says quietly. "When I was very young, she would do many motherly things."

Briar looks up at him concerned and curious. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I grew up", he murmurs. "That's all it took I suppose."

Her eyes water again. "I'm sorry...nobody deserves that. Especially as a kid. Everyone should have someone."

Tamlin tosses her a look that is somehow half broken and half stoic. His eyes give him away though. They carry so much despair it almost drives the air from her lungs with the heavy intensity of it.

"Yes well, my father was the third worst being in Prythian. That never helped."

Her lips part to say something, but she doesn't quite know what to say.

"Spare me. I've heard it all. I'm compared to him often enough."

Briar immediately stands up, gripping his wrist. "That shouldn't happen. I know you've made your share of mistakes, but nobody should ever be comparing you to him if he was that despicable.

"You don't know me. Once you do, you'll want to be as far away as possible too. It will happen. Just wait."

She shakes her head. "I don't believe that."

"Well, believe it."

"You are not bad. If you were bad, I would assume you wouldn't be my mate. I know I'm a good person, and I know that my...my mate would be a good person too. Just because you're damaged does not make you bad. Damage can be mended. Held together. Patched. Healed. I think that's what you need the most. Clearly, I have a lot of things I need to work on, myself."

Tamlin flexes his hands at his sides again, a habit she has quickly picked up on that indicates emotional stress. He takes a steadying breath and turns to her. "Mate bonds don't give a fuck if you're good or bad. Only that you are equal in the potential of your power; for offspring that will allow every generation to get stronger and more unstoppable. That is hardly a good thing, especially when I have lived through a person of greater power becoming an evil dictator, we went to war with another, and still, a third is waiting in the queue to come up against Prythian. So no...you could be the best, sweetest, and most brilliant person in the world, and I could still be evil as they come, and we could still be mates, Briar. I wish it were as you assumed, but it is not."

She stands up and walks over to him, yet again too close for comfort as she looks up at him, right in the eyes. "Alright. Perhaps. However, I think I am a fairly great judge of character and I see no indication of evil residing anywhere in you."

He keeps his breath from hitching at the intensity of her gaze, then breaks the stare, looking back out at the rose garden. "That's not what others think."

"I don't give a flying fuck what others think. I care about what I think. If there is one most important thing my mother taught me, it was to always be my own person and judge those with an open mind. To never let people with hate in their heart sway my own."

His body goes slightly rigid, but he stays utterly silent, staring out the window. After a moment of quiet, he speaks, softly. "I am sorry about your mother."

Briar wrings her hands and nods. "Thank you...she was lovely. W-we were pretty poor, but she did her best to keep me comfortable and fed. She was good at saving her wages, so it didn't run out too quickly once she got sick, luckily. By then I was making my own wage. So we were never as unlucky as some. But...it was hard. To leave her to go work when she was home and sickly."

Tamlin turns back to her. "Apologies if this sounds insensitive, but how did she die?"

"Cancer. It's...a mortal disease that there is no cure for. It's like a poison to your body. Makes you extremely ill and deteriorates you day by day until you...go. Hers was in her blood. We were not upper class, so we could not afford the medicines that could have been used to help ease it."

His green eyes go soft and flick down to the floor. "That seems unfair."

"Yes, well...as is life, hm?"

Tamlin scoffs. "As is life", he affirms.

She sighs and stands next to him. He glances over at her curiously.

"Those rosebushes mean something to you, don't they?"

His brow furrows and his throat bobs. "You're quite...insightful."

Briar looks up at him softly and he loosens a breath. "They were my mother's. A mating gift from my father. When she died, I just kept tending to them. They are the only thing of beauty my vile father ever bore."

"That's not true", she whispers. "While they are breathtakingly beautiful, he bred you, Tamlin."

Though it may be small, she can see his stony exterior crack ever so slightly before he retains his rigidity. "I am far from beauty, Briar. I am the beast of nightmares. You...you are the beauty."

Her cheeks flush and she gives him a sweet smile. "There is no rule that says a beast cannot also be beautiful. What some may see as scary in their assumptions or misunderstandings, others interpret as their protector or their savior. It's all in perspective."

He blinks rapidly as he continues to evade her gaze, his confused silence spreading out around them.

"My mother's favorite flower was also the rose. It's the reason she named me Briar actually. It was the first flower that my father gave to her when they began courting. There was a windstorm and they mutually refused to put off their date. He had met her at the gate to her home and gifted her the rose. In her haste and excitement, she went to show her mother but pricked her finger on one of the sharp thorns on her walk back to the front door and cried out. He had rushed over to her seconds before a large tree branch came down where he had been standing."

Tamlin looks at her, intrigued but silent as she continues.

"She used that metaphor a lot when I was growing up. That sometimes the things that are considered with the most caution, or are deemed bad, can end up being the most beautiful of gifts. My name, in translation, is 'a wild bush of thorny roses'. She would laugh and tell me that my constant questions about life were the thorns in her side, but that curiosity was a beautiful gift to have. That being curious would help me bloom", Briar chuckles softly. "Maybe she overdid it with all those rose metaphors. But they were sweet nonetheless."

His lips part and he swallows, allowing himself a bit of curiosity of his own. "What happened to your father?"

Briar looks sad for a moment. "My parents—they were very young when my mother found out she was pregnant with me. They were about sixteen or so. My father's family was very upset, and so they forbade him from ever seeing her again. They moved away actually. To the continent, according to my mother, about a year after I was born. He had met me in secret a few times as a babe, but...", she trails off, a sad softness to her voice now. "...I don't remember him. Just the stories my mom told. I asked her quite often as a child if she ever regretted it; regretted me. Her answer was always no. She said that she loved him fiercely and when he was forced to leave, it broke her heart, but that I mended it because I was a piece of him. That I was that beautiful rosebush with all its thorns. An incredible gift, but one that also came with longing and some pain."

Her eyes fill with tears. "Sometimes I despised being their creation because I knew that beholding me could cause her pain. Just like a rose. And I didn't want to be that stupid metaphorical flower or any of those ridiculous metaphors. When I looked in the mirror, I saw the person that drove them away from one another. I saw a curse. An ugly, horrible reminder of the real and deep love that she had lost because I existed."

Tamlin's walls crumble a bit more as his hand twitches ever so slightly to the right and his pinky finger finds hers in silent comfort. A tiny gesture but a white flag of true civility.

"I knew that my mother loved me ferociously. I still do. But I also know that she died with me, and not in the arms of my father", her lip trembles. "And I...I wish more than anything that he could have been there one last time because I know that her heart was hurting as much as her body, knowing that she would never get the chance to see him or tell him how much she still loved him again." Tears make their way down her cheeks, and she sniffles. "So yeah, my whole life I've been the embodiment of my name. Maybe my openness is silly or endearing, but I seem to also be cursed with being a burden. Whether physical or emotional. That, I cannot escape. So you see, Tamlin, we all have our bad sides. However well or poorly hidden. Everyone has one."

His bright green eyes drink her in as he studies her solemn face, his heart aching and his mind screaming out for him to comfort her. But all he can do is speak his truth. "You are not a burden. You are an incredible person, Briar. Thorns and all."