Vanserra Drama - Tumblr Posts

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXV

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Elain placed a hand on Lucien’s broad chest, stopping him right outside the carved oak door of the fitting room. The fabric of his brocade waistcoat was thick, but she could still feel the warmth of his skin on her palm. 

Elain knew she was blushing at the way his muscles tensed beneath her fingers. She wished for a moment that he was shirtless, the image flashing in her mind briefly before she shook her head to push the wildly inappropriate thought to the side. 

Lucien raised an auburn brow, amusement bright in his russet eye. His golden one whirred softly, the sound so familiar to Elain that she barely noticed. “I can’t even see the dress when you’re not in it?” 

Elain pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “Sorry,” she said, “not even then.” She pulled her hand away from him, still blocking his path with her body. She knew the fae did not have the same wedding traditions, but she was not about to test fate by ignoring this one. 

Lucien hummed softly, nodding. “You’re that superstitious?” He asked, no judgement in the question, just simple curiosity. 

“It’s bad luck,” Elain explained, chin tilted so she could look up at her mate.She traced the sharp curve of his jaw with her gaze. “I’m very determined to have a nice reception.” 

He smiled, an endearing dimple appearing on his unscarred cheek. Lucien leaned towards her, the action seemed almost involuntary. “Any other traditions I should know about?” 

“That’s the only one,” Elain reassured. She did not mention how most newly married couples in the human realm chose to have rice thrown at them, deciding that perhaps it was something the Autumn Court guests would not appreciate. She was having a hard time picturing Lucien’s brothers tossing grains of rice at anyone, let alone herself. “Now go, I’m already late, your mother and the seamstress were expecting me right after breakfast.” 

Lucien licked his full bottom lip, and Elain found herself tracking the movement. He inched closer, hesitant, but his intentions were clear. She was drawn to him, like a moth to flame, the bond urging her onto the tips of her toes. 

When their faces were a hair’s breadth apart, Lucien spoke, his voice soft. “I’m sure they can wait a minute longer.” 

Elain responded by pressing her mouth to his. With her eyes shut, she could conjure the illusion of privacy, could forget entirely that they were in a corridor where anyone might happen to walk by. 

Elain could not be bothered to care. Each stroke of Lucien’s tongue had her biting back a moan, and when he cupped the back of her head, heat pooled low in her gut. 

Elain braced her arm against the door. 

She could have spent an eternity with Lucien, his touch unbelievably gentle as their kiss deepened. Elain was dizzy with desire, his scent enveloping her, as comforting as any embrace. His canines grazed the skin of her lip, pulling a whimper from deep within her chest. 

Lucien broke their kiss at the sound, and Elain’s eyes snapped open. She glanced around them to make sure no one was walking towards them, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear simply to do something with her hand. It took all of her self control not to grab Lucien by the collar and pull him to her once more. 

“Have fun at your fitting,” he said, his voice a breathless rasp. Before Elain could protest him leaving, he pressed a featherlight kiss to her cheek, turning on his heel elegantly. 

Elain fell against the door, the wood rough through the fabric of her dress. Her knees were weak and she needed the support to keep her steady in Lucien’s absence. She stared at his back, absently bringing her thumb up to her lips. She traced their shape, breaking into a smile as her mate turned around for one last glance. Elain waved as he winnowed, the hallway filling with the golden light of his magic. 

She stayed there for a moment, hearing the Lady of Autumn’s laughter coming from the room behind her. 

Elain did not know how she would manage to get through the rest of the morning if Lucien was on her mind, but as time passed, she was able to focus on what was happening around her. 

Callista had ushered Elain in front of a floor length mirror. It was still difficult for her to refer to Lucien’s mother using her name, but the High Lord’s wife had insisted. With the help of Cora, the seamstress, and her young apprentice, Elain was helped into her wedding gown. 

The dress was stunning, beyond lovely, and more beautiful than any other clothing she had ever seen. Even incomplete, Elain knew that the final product would capture everyone’s attention. 

The bodice was a shining gold fabric, intricate laces in the back tied tightly but not uncomfortably. The sleeves were made of the same material, countless shimmering beads adding sparkle along her wrists. Like Elain had suggested, the long tulle skirts flared around her, highlighting the shape of her figure. Leaves cut from thin sheets of actual gold had been added in a careful pattern onto the gown, and when Elain moved, it looked like they were falling in a gentle wind. In a thoughtful nod to her past life, Cora had managed to convince the seamstress and the Lady of Autumn to keep the long train of the dress free of any colour and entirely white. 

The dress was perfect. Elain found herself unable to tear her gaze away from the mirror as the final details were added and the last few adjustments were made. 

Elain had just gotten back into her everyday clothes when there was a knock at the door. Cora rolled her eyes before Eris’s deep voice travelled through the thick wood separating him from them. “Elain?” 

Callista walked to the other side of the room, placing her fingers onto the handle. She raised a brow in question at Elain, who nodded. As the door swung open, Eris grinned in amusement. There were flames in his amber eyes as he spoke. “Why are you torturing my brother?” 

Elain snorted, forgetting for a moment that there were others present. She waved him into the room, inviting him to come closer. The seamstress and her apprentice slipped through the slim opening, shutting the door behind them quietly. “What makes you say that?” 

Eris shrugged, but he looked entirely too pleased with himself, like a cat that had caught a mouse. “He seemed a bit…on edge, I suppose.” 

Elain felt herself blush, muttering under her breath. “That’s ridiculous.” 

Eris cast a look around the room, gaze falling onto the nearly finished wedding gown. “Ready to be married?” 

Three more days. 

Elain could hardly believe it. To her, it was like she had arrived at the Autumn Court a lifetime ago. 

She nodded, hoping that she looked confident in front of Lucien’s mother. “I think we’ve planned everything.” 

“There is just one more detail,” Callista’s soft voice was commanding, drawing everyone’s attention. “If you could choose someone to walk you down the aisle, it can be anyone you like.” 

Elain paused, furrowing her brow. She considered the human tradition, where only parents were part of the ceremony in such a way. Perhaps her sisters, Elain thought. “Just one?”

“Traditionally,” Callista said with a smile. “Anyone will do.” 

Elain was not going to choose between Nesta and Feyre. Besides, she did not think it would be entirely appreciated by Beron to have another court’s High Lady walk her down the aisle. She looked to Cora, her constant support since they had left Velaris. Her friend made a horrified expression in response, one that made her opinion on the matter dreadfully clear. 

Elain had to hold back a laugh, offering Cora an understanding smile. She could have guessed that the other woman would not have been too keen on such active participation in the ceremony, since she preferred staying out of the spotlight.  

“Eris?” Elain’s decision had been made, and she sincerely doubted he would deny her wish. It was for the best to have the Autumn Court’s heir do this one thing for her, especially since she was entirely certain Beron would approve of it. 

Eris had been looking at Cora, humming distractedly as he faced Elain. 

“Eris, you’ll walk me down the aisle, won’t you?” Her question hung in the air, and she could practically see him turning it over in his mind.

He waved a hand in a gesture Elain could only describe as lazy. “Whatever you like,” he said flippantly, eyes flicking to his mother as he bent at the waist in the smallest of bows. “How can I refuse my only sister?” There was no usual bite to the words, only affection. 

Before any of the women could say anything more on the subject, Eris had winnowed from the room, embers falling to the carpeted ground. Shortly after the prince had left, Elain and Cora followed. 

Callista had encouraged her to spend the next couple of days relaxing and spending time with Lucien, which Elain was more than happy to do. Cora and her walked in comfortable silence back to their chambers, and when no one was around, Elain knocked her shoulder against her friend. 

“You didn’t want to walk me down the aisle?” She asked jokingly, surprised by the frown that fell over Cora’s features. 

“I didn’t think it was fair,” she said quietly, tugging on her braid in a gesture Elain had come to realise meant that Cora was feeling uneasy. 

Elain pulled her to a stop, holding onto her elbow right at the foot of a staircase, making sure no one else was near. “Why would you think—”

“I’m not a lady’s maid,” Cora interrupted, her words seemingly pulled from her as she blurted the statement quickly. The outburst seemed to have shocked them both. Cora’s dark eyes were wide, scarlet staining her light brown cheeks. 

Elain paused, looking over the other woman carefully. She considered the little information she knew about her friend’s life and could only come to one conclusion. “A guard?” 

Cora glanced nervously down the hall, releasing a long sigh as she pulled Elain into the shelter of the staircase. “Not a guard,” she admitted, a glamour falling into place so that no one else might accidentally hear. “A spy.”

It made sense, Elain could admit.

She took the time to go over some of the more obvious clues, hindsight making everything more clear. Understanding Cora would have no reason to lie, but still wanting to have a better grasp of the truth, Elain paused. If Nuala and Cerridwen had come to Autumn, they would have been doing the same. She had probably remained in the dark for her own protection, but the ever familiar frustration at being excluded in important matters washed over her for a moment. 

Cora was good with weapons, could sneak around anywhere, and was an expert at researching. She always knew what every member of the Vanserra family was doing, a fact that Elain had blamed on gossip between the workers in the Forest House. 

A memory flashed in her mind of the first time she had been introduced to the woman who would act as her lady’s maid — Cora glancing towards Azriel, almost as though she had been searching his expression for cues on how to behave. 

Elain took a breath, nodding. “Who were you sent to spy on?” She asked, wanting to understand. Her first guess was Lucien, since the Inner Circle – excluding Feyre – seemed to distrust him wholeheartedly. 

“Not you,” Cora rushed to clarify, hands held in front of her placatingly. “And I’m not supposed to say, Az will kill me if he finds out, but I just…” She shrugged, looking at Elain with an apologetic expression. “I hate keeping things from my friends.” 

The words hung between them, easy for Elain to reject. Even given the chance, she decided she rather liked having Cora as a friend. She raised a brow, offering the other woman a small smile. “So then who are you spying on?” 

Cora was quick to answer. “A certain prince, just in case he’s planning to use you for some nefarious plot.”  Cora laughed awkwardly, “highly unlikely, by the way.”

Elain could have sighed in relief, glad she had at least been right to trust Eris with the knowledge of her visions. She began to walk up the stairs, Cora following after her eagerly. “Are you really from the Hewn City?” 

Although she was unable to see the other woman, Elain knew Cora was nodding. “That wasn’t a lie,” she assured. “Everything I told you about myself was true if you ignore what I do for a living.” 

“And what is that?” Elain turned to look at her, skirts clasped tightly in her hands as they marched up the last few steps. 

Cora wrinkled her nose in distaste. “The High Lord has me gathering information on Kier and his supporters. Very boring, nothing’s changed in over three centuries.” She smiled, the expression suggesting she did not mind revealing a bit more about herself. “The last two weeks have been very exciting for me,” she finished.

Elain barked an inelegant laugh. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself,” she clipped, wanting to know more about Cora and correctly guessing she would share out of feeling a bit guilty. “Rhysand sent you?” She confirmed, continuing only once there was a nod in agreement. “I was expecting one of the twins to come, I know Az sends them everywhere.”

“I look High Fae,” Cora said with a shrug. Elain’s eyes flicked to her friend’s pointed ears briefly before her attention was once more on the conversation. “And my mother was a lady’s maid before she met my father.” 

“Was she Illyrian?” Elain asked, noting the obvious lack of wings on Cora’s part. She shuddered, remembering how Feyre had almost died giving birth to Nyx, wondering why Cora was not born the same. 

She shook her head. “My father was part Illyrian and acted as an emissary between the Court of Nightmares and the cities in Illyria, hardly matters since she stopped working once they married.” Cora cringed, ”I may or may not have let the High Lord and Azriel believe I knew what would be expected from a female in this position.” She offered an embarrassed smile, one that Elain returned.  “Not one of my finer decisions,” she admitted. 

Elain had been so interested in what Cora had been saying that she had not realised they had returned to her and Lucien’s shared chambers until they were standing right outside the doors. 

“I’m glad you lied about your qualifications,” Elain placed a gentle hand on Cora’s arm, squeezing affectionately. “But I’m going to have to tell Lucien.” 

“Make sure he doesn’t share the news,” she laughed, sighing. “I should have told you sooner,” she replied, her regret a heavy thing. “I’m sorry, Elain.” 

At the genuine apology, Elain could not help but pull Cora into a hug. Despite being stiff in surprise initially, the spy returned the embrace. “Thank you for telling me now.” 

Once Cora had left to return to her own room, Elain waited a moment outside. She did not like the Night Court’s secrecy and had resented for years the way they all seemed content to shelter her. 

Lucien would never.

The thought came to her suddenly, quick as a shooting star and gone before she could take the time to truly consider it. She pushed the door open, nearly stumbling as she threw herself into the familiar space. 

Lucien looked up from the ancient and worn book he was reading from. There were two neat piles from the library on either side of the coffee table, a steaming mug balancing precariously on the edge of the wooden surface. His hair was tied away from his handsome face, loose strands falling to his broad shoulders. Elain’s attention was instantly drawn to the way he had rolled up his shirtsleeves, the veins on his forearms forcing her to hold back a swoon. 

He smiled as she shut the door behind her. “Did you have a nice time?” 

Elain could imagine her future so clearly, even without being a seer. Coming home after a busy morning only to find her mate sitting comfortably on the sofa, waiting for her arrival. Lucien listened to the things she had to say, constantly encouraging her to do as she liked. He never doubted her abilities, he was confident in her decisions. 

My mate. 

“Do you want to hear something interesting?” Elain asked, watching as he snapped his book shut. 

Lucien patted once on the cushion next to him, the gesture inviting as he replied. “Always.”