Chapter Text
The first time I saw her, I was on a walk through the forest.
The low autumn sun shone brightly through the trees, shards of light piercing through the cool air and warming my skin.
As I walked amongst the weathered barks, the sound of my brothers laughing like fools in the formal gardens mercifully dying down, I stumbled upon her standing beside a reflecting pool. The water was a mirror in which she gazed upon herself, her long dark auburn hair swept over one shoulder, her simple but flattering deep purple dress swaying gently in the breeze.
I took a step out of the trees and stopped. She looked so melancholy, and yet so serene. I moved again, my boot landing on a dry twig. The snap echoed around the clearing, before being swallowed up by the dense forest. My eyes were wide.
Slowly, and unfazed by my presence, she raised her head to look at me, and smiled. Gods above, that smile was like pure unfiltered sunlight. As I gazed at her like a fool, she dropped her head and returned to staring into the water, as if searching for something.
I contemplated turning around and walking back the way I came, but something brave, or perhaps reckless, pushed me forward. I padded round the water’s edge – mindful of the slippery leaves – and halted once more.
I watched as she lifted a hand and brushed her delicate fingers into her hair, pushing it behind her ear and revealing a distinctly pointed lobe. Faerie. Her pale skin shimmered with purple and blue and green tones, like a beautiful pearl. My breath hitched.
“Hello,” she smiled, her focus remaining on the still water, her voice a delicious purr.
“Hello,” I replied, and took another step. “Have you lost something?”
“No.” Her response was short, but kindness filtered through.
I must have pulled a face of confusion, because she raised her head to me again and laughed a soft, delicate laugh. She turned her body to face me fully and clasped her hands together.
I felt that bravery swell again and shove me in the chest. “May I ask your name?”
“Thea.”
I set off walking towards her. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Thea,” I said, letting her name roll around in my head, absorbing its beauty, before I released it into the crisp air. I placed a hand on my chest and continued, “I’m Luc-”
“Lucien,” she interrupted, with a nod and another smile. “I know who you are, my lord.”
I pulled another face. “You do?” She nodded again. “How?”
“I am the daughter of the castle fire keeper, my lord. I live in the cottage on the edge of the forest.”
“Oh.” I took a step closer still and pulled my hands behind my back. “Harven is a fine worker, very clean and tidy.” I scowled at my poor attempt at conversation, but she giggled again, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and suddenly I didn’t feel so ridiculous. “Honestly, if it weren’t for him, we’d have all frozen to death by now, of that I’m certain.”
“Your father can create fire out of thin air,” she smirked, “but thank you, my lord, I will pass on your compliments.” She gave a small bow, which I reciprocated, and gazed at me. My heart fluttered, perhaps even skipped a beat.
“You don’t need to call me that, by the way; my lord. I’m not the kind of male who requires others to stand on ceremony.”
“While your brothers, on the other hand…” She raised an eyebrow and smirked.
“Yes. I wish I could say the same for them but…” I sighed and stopped a few feet from her, “Alas, they are great champions of tradition.”
“Is that what you’re calling it?”
I chuckled. She was sharp as a pin; those emerald eyes and soft, full, very kissable lips merely a lovely façade for her fierce intellect. “Besides, I’m not a lord.”
She frowned, “But you’re an heir to the Court.”
“Yes, but technically speaking, my father is the High Lord; and then Eris, Aristide -” I counted on my fingers, “- Terrell, Corentin, Drago, and Magnus come before me. So at best, I’m seventh heir to the title.” I leaned towards her slightly and grinned, “So please, just call me Lucien.”
“All right then.” Her eyes fell back to the water, which from this side reflected the towering gold and red flecked trees. “Lucien.” She whispered my name to herself, and goose bumps rose on my flesh.
She released a sigh of contemplation and smoothed the skirt of her dress. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. In that moment I wondered what her childhood was like, what she dreamed about…who she loved.
A chill fluttered through the forest, making her shiver. I immediately began unbuttoning the gold thread adorned tan jacket that I’d worn to practice my sword skills that morning.
“No, that’s not necessary,” she smiled, placing her hand over mine and halting me in my task. I felt a surge of energy, of emotion pass between us. I’d never felt anything so powerful and exhilarating. She must’ve felt it too, because her deep green eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak again, but remembered where her hand was and swiftly removed it.
“I didn’t mean to be presumptuous, Thea,” I gulped out, like I had forgotten how to speak.
“I should get back to the castle,” she smiled hesitantly, “My father will be starting his afternoon rounds, and he needs my help to carry the kindling.”
“Very well,” I nodded, “I should return to my own duties, too, I suppose.”
“What exactly do you do, Lucien?” she asked. The way she said my name was so intoxicating, I didn’t think I’d ever tire of hearing it.
I huffed out a sigh and shoved my hands into my pockets, “Good question. The High Lord usually sends me on a pointless errand of some kind; to collect taxes, or some minor trade discussion. But nothing too demanding for the runt of the litter.” I winked at her, but only to disguise the knot in my stomach at saying the words out loud. I had no official place in this court, I knew that. The past few decades had been spent almost entirely in the bedrooms of the most beautiful High Fae females.
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as that.” Thea said a moment later, as if reading my thoughts.
“Care to wager?”
She dropped her head and released a breath. “Perhaps next time.”
I arched an eyebrow, “Next…time?” I was such a stuttering fool; no one would ever have thought I’d spoken to a female before.
She nibbled her bottom lip, holding back a grin at my apparent naivety, and flicked her eyes in the direction I came from. “I’d wager we will speak again, Lucien; seventh in line to the Autumn Court.” She winked, and didn’t wait for my stammering, flustered face to calm down before she bid me good day and walked away.
I watched her hips sway gently as she trundled through the leaves, whipping them up with her dress as it skimmed the ground. She lifted a hand up to pull her beautiful thick hair over one shoulder again, drawing my attention to the sweeping curve of her neck.
I knew immediately that she would be my unravelling.
I spent the next few days wandering around the castle in search of Thea, hoping to glimpse her just for a moment. I could’ve winnowed, but the walk gave me time to think about what on earth I might say to her. Keep it casual, or charming, or perhaps a little of both?
The castle was vast; a pale stone structure with courtyards and many towers, that jutted out of the earth and high above the tree line with confidence - arrogance, even. It seemed very fitting for my father. I guess for me too.
I had grown up in this castle, yet it still left me in awe at its sheer scale, at its luxuries and its bravado. The Autumn Court had always been one of the wealthiest, steeped in tradition – sometimes almost crumbling under the weight of it – and ruled by show-offs.
Each hallway I roamed was ten feet wide, with a highly polished oak floor and an ornate red carpet running down the middle. Elaborate candelabras of peryton antlers stood on polished golden legs at either side, in-between imposing oil paintings of my ancestors.
There were so many rooms to search in; dining, living, bathing, music, galleries, and bedrooms in abundance – perfect for inter-court functions where the High Lord liked to boast that he could accommodate everyone.
Continuing my search one morning, I climbed yet another sweeping staircase, casting my eyes over every fireplace in every room, down every servant staircase I came across, until I heard the faint sound of logs being thrown into a basket. I spun around, and my shoulders sank. The sound was coming from the High Lord’s bedroom. The only room I’d ignored.
I headed over to the open double doors – solid oak and very heavy – and peered inside. There she was, kneeling before the hearth with her back to me, transferring silver birch logs from a wheeled cart into a large basket beside the fireplace.
She wore a brown cotton dress with a delicate spotted pattern running through it, and an apron over that, tied in a bow at the back. Her hair was braided and pulled over the same shoulder as last time, and as I stepped into the room and leaned against the door, I wondered if that was done on purpose, or by instinct.
What other little quirks did she have? My heart surged at the thought of finding out.
She began laying kindling on a pile of logs in the grate. “Are you going to talk to me, seventh in line to the Autumn Court, or just stare at my behind for the next hour?” she asked. Even with her back to me, I could tell she was smirking as she said it.
“You know,” I said, sucking in air through my teeth, “That’s a very difficult choice to make.”
“Very funny, Lucien,” she replied, and sat upright on her knees. She glanced over her shoulder at me, those green eyes lowered slightly, and tipped her head to beckon me over.
Without a word, I pushed off the door and meandered towards her, taking in the room as I went. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’d set foot in here.
Its amber-hued walls depicted scenes of Autumn Court battle triumphs in vivid, gory detail, and I often wondered how anyone could sleep surrounded by it. My mother hated it too, and her own suite of rooms couldn’t have been more different; warm peach tones and gold accents. I’d spent countless hours in that room as an infant.
I stopped at one side of the fireplace – large enough for me to stand inside – and looked down on her. She placed her hands on her hips and surveyed her work. “Is this the first one of the day?”
“Yes,” she nodded, and rocked back on her ankles, bringing herself effortlessly to her feet. “Only another fifty-nine to go.”
“By yourself?” I winced. It looked like very hard work.
“No, father is doing half. He gets the south wing today.” She brushed her hands on her clean apron and smiled, “I think he’s hoping to run into your mother; she always takes the time to talk to him.”
I smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”
She pulled a long match out of a pocket in the front of her apron and struck it against the stone mantel. She crouched down and lit the fire, blowing the new-born flame gently until it burst into vibrant orange life.
“It’s strange isn’t it,” I pondered, “In the castle of a High Lord who can manipulate fire, that we still light these things with a match.”
“Don’t complain,” she said, rising to her feet again. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have a job, and we never would’ve met.” She smiled at me and dropped her eyes, gazing back up at me through long eyelashes. “And wouldn’t that have been a shame.”
“Indeed it would.” My hands tingled, and I felt a pull of something strong, something I could not resist, that moved me closer to her. She didn’t step away. In fact, she seemed to plant her feet solidly on the floor, and stared right into my eyes. Those deep green irises shone like the most precious jewels, and I knew it was a rare privilege to get to see them so close. My next words came in a soft whisper, “How come I’d never laid eyes on you until a few days ago? Where have you been hiding?”
“Aside from the fact that until recently you spent hardly any time in this court?” She chewed her bottom lip, pondering the words. “I grew up in the cottage with father, and spent many years running around the forest…”
“You did?” I frowned.
She gave a single nod and continued, “But I was a very shy child, always afraid to make friends. I would hear you and your brothers playing and I would hide behind a tree trunk a safe distance away, watching you firing arrows at each other amongst the trees, kicking up dry leaves.” She sighed. “I wanted to say hello so desperately, and I was going to one day when I saw you alone - because your brothers frightened me - but then I…” She stuttered a breath, her eyes glazing with tears, and clamped her lips shut.
“You…what?” I asked. That force that had pulled me toward her tugged sharply, and I moved closer until we were sharing air. “Thea?” I whispered, lifting my hand to sweep a stand of hair away from her face. She didn’t flinch, didn’t move at all. I tucked it behind her ear and I felt her lean into me, ever so slightly. My breath hitched. “What happened?”
She shook her head as if waking from a dream, and stepped back just a little. “Never mind.” She adjusted her hair and loosened her shoulders. “Anyway, to answer your original question; I spent a lot of time working in the village nearby, until father asked for my help here.” She released a shaky breath and stared at me. I stared back, and we memorised each other’s faces. She pulled her gaze away from me first, over my shoulder, and hurriedly said, “And then we met. The end.”
“Oh, okay,” I nodded, and watched as she gathered up her things at lightning pace and loaded them into the cart.
“I err, have a busy day ahead, Lucien.” She said my name with barely a whisper, “So I will bid you good day and get back to my work.”
“Thea, wait…” I frowned at her rapid speech, at her fumbling, and spun around as she flew past in a blur, dragging the squeaking cart behind her.
There in the doorway stood our housekeeper and the reason for her hurried exit; Gagnon. I sucked in a breath, puffing out my chest as Thea rushed past him with a faint nod of acknowledgement and disappeared down the hall.
“Gagnon, my good man,” I lied. He was anything but. Old enough to have served 3 high lords of the Autumn Court, the portly faerie stood a foot smaller than me in his suited uniform, his short white hair wispy around his pointed ears. His orange-hued face was set in a permanent scowl, the teeth which he bared to me in a low growl slightly yellowed. He’d always hated me, and vice versa. My father, meanwhile, revered him. “Did you want something?” I asked, clasping my hands behind my back and sauntering towards him, towards the doorway and my exit from this horrible room.
“That boy from the Spring Court is here, my under-lord.” I almost snorted at that title. Obsessed with protocol. “He’s waiting for you in the great hall.”
“Excellent,” I said, keeping my voice as light and airy as possible. His face showed nothing but contempt. “I won’t keep you, then. I’ll escort myself.”
“That’s not how it’s supposed to work,” Gagnon sneered.
“Well seen as I’m so lacking in decorum, it’s a good job I’m at the back of the line, isn’t it?” I winked at him and went to pat him on the shoulder.
He grabbed my wrist and pulled it towards him with surprising strength for such an old fae. “Keep away from that girl, under-lord,” he growled.
I yanked my hand away and glared at him, “I have no idea what you’re referring to, old man.”
“Better for me to see than my High Lord.”
“Always hoping for trouble, Gagnon, that’s your problem.” I waved him off with a look that could set him on fire, and stepped around him into the hallway, “And by the way, that boy is now the High Lord of the Spring Court, so you will address him as such. You know how much my father demands respect for his peers.”
“That boy is no peer to the High Lord I serve,” Gagnon grumbled behind me as I walked away, but I ignored him.
I strained my ears to listen for the cart, but silence was all that greeted me. She was probably in the next room – my father’s private living room – but I thought it best to leave her to it. The look she’d given me when she was about to say something she shouldn’t…it was burned into my mind.
I dawdled for a moment, waiting for Gagnon to reappear, but he never came out. I rolled my eyes in annoyance at his meddling, but my stomach twisted in knots as I winnowed out of the hallway.
“Tamlin, my friend,” I beamed, opening my arms wide as I re-appeared in the great hall. The vaulted ceiling allowed my voice to echo the length of the room.
The High Lord of the Spring Court sat proudly in my father’s plush green velvet armchair by another enormous fireplace, one leg balancing on the other, and running his hands along the wide curved arms. His blonde hair was luminous, his pale green attire delicately stitched with spring flowers and birds, outlined in exquisite gold thread. He looked every inch the High Lord.
“Lucien,” he said with a weak smile and pushed up out of the chair. We met in the middle of the room and embraced. “I’ve missed you. How have you been?”
I patted him on the back and we parted. “Well, very well. And how is the Spring Court at this time of year?” I winked.
“Insufferably pleasant.” His words – though humorous – felt slightly empty, and we stared at each other for a good few moments before he laughed and I felt comfortable enough to join in.
It had been a long time since Tamlin and I had laughed, or even spent any time together at all, with him just having become the High Lord. The animosity between the Spring and Night Courts had come to a violent head, and with Autumn stuck in between, father had demanded we keep out of it, going as far as to stop me seeing my best friend. I still didn’t know for certain what had happened that led to his father’s death, and Tamlin wasn’t yet ready to tell me. One day he would though, I was certain.
When the laughter eventually died down, I moved over to one of the imposing full-height windows that looked out over the treetops. A sea of oranges, browns and golds greeted me, shifting in waves as the crisp autumn winds blew. “Everything’s changing, Tam.”
“I know,” my friend replied behind me, “And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.”
I sighed, “Some things are certainly getting better.” I turned back to him and smiled.
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, and moved to stand beside me, “In what way, may I ask?”
My eyes darted all around the room. There were many people in this castle who would benefit from listening to my conversations; my father, any of my brothers, even Gagnon… I dropped my head and whispered, “Not here.”
Tamlin immediately patted me on the shoulder and said, “Let’s get out of here, get some clean air into our lungs. I’ll spare you my beast form today, we’ll take the horses instead. What do you say?”
I nodded, and we winnowed to the stables.
The air was crisp as ever, the leaves softly crunching under hooves as we strolled through the grounds of the castle. My chestnut brown horse almost disappeared against the autumnal backdrop, whilst Tamlin’s black stallion dazzled in the morning sunshine.
“So…what’s her name?” he asked softly.
“Thea,” I said, trying and failing to hold back a wide grin.
“Gift of god,” Tamlin said under his breath, taking it in. He bobbed his head sideways in approval and returned my smile. “A human name.”
“Indeed, but she’s fae.”
“High fae?”
I shook my head, “She’s Harven’s daughter.”
Tamlin’s horse came to a shuddering halt as he yanked on the reins. “Harven? The fire keeper?” I nodded again. “Lucien.”
“I know; you don’t have to say it,” I whispered, turning my horse back round to face him. My eyes darted all over the forest, at every shadow, every tree trunk. My fae ears twitched, listening for eavesdroppers. My breath shuddered through my chest. “It doesn’t matter to me.”
“But what will Beron say when he finds out you’re falling for a servant girl?” My friend said those last two words with such fear? Surprise? Disgust? I couldn’t tell.
My stomach felt like lead. “I don’t care what he thinks. There’s something about her that’s just…enchanting.”
“Oh for goodness sake,” Tamlin growled, a faint rumble of his beast voice causing a flock of birds in a nearby tree to take flight. “You’re the son of a High Lord, Lucien, you have to think about how this would look.”
“How what would look, Tam?” I squared my shoulders, as my horse stepped left and right. I pulled on the leather reins and steadied him. “I don’t even know if anything is happening, so I’ve not thought that far ahead,” I huffed, “And besides, I’m seventh heir of this godsdamned place, so I’m sure father can stomach me continuing to be the family disappointment in the background!”
“You’re giving your father entirely too much credit,” he scoffed, and rolled his eyes. “Fifth, sixth, or seventh in line; it doesn’t matter one bit to a male like your father.”
I frowned and sat up straighter, “Why are you not supporting me? Why is my best friend being so flippant about something as important as this?”
Tamlin’s face snapped back to mine. His eyes glazed over immediately. “Because I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.
He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Find yourself a High Fae, Lucien -”
“Why, just so I can please my father?” I scoffed.
He ignored me and continued, in an infuriatingly calm voice, “There are many beautiful ones.” His eyes followed me as I pulled a face and continued looking around for spies. “The Dawn and Winter Courts have a number of females you’d like.”
I scoffed, “Cauldron, boil me! Have you picked one for yourself, then?”
His throat bobbed.
“This isn’t a meat market, Tam!”
“I know that.”
“Then why are you trying to force one upon me?” I scowled, throwing an arm out wide.
“You never had a problem acquiring other females before, Lucien.”
“I like Thea, and that’s that!”
“Fine.” Tamlin shrugged. “Tell me more about her. How long have you known her?”
“What?”
“How long?”
“A few days -”
“Days?” He ran his fingers through his hair and looked up at the canopy of golden leaves that shaded us. “By the Cauldron, you’re a child.”
“Excuse me?” I snarled.
“Just…” He sighed and dropped his head against his chest. He silently ordered his horse to move towards me and came to a stop beside me. His eyes had softened, his shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry, old friend, I didn’t mean that. Just please be careful.”
“Learn from your mistakes?” I asked.
Tamlin nodded and a small part of me sank. He wasn’t suggesting anything I hadn’t already thought about myself, but it still felt like an ash arrow to my heart.
I shrugged, “Well, like I said; we’ve only known each other a few days, and it might not turn into anything…but I’ll keep your suggestion in mind.”
“Good,” he said with a weak smile. He patted my shoulder and looked away, “I am happy for you, though, if you think you’ve found someone, Lucien. Please know that. I’m just looking out for you, that’s all.”
“I know,” I bobbed my head in acknowledgement, “And I know it won’t be easy, but I want to try. I have to.”
Tamlin stayed with us for a few weeks, and I wondered if part of the reason was because he wasn’t ready to face his responsibilities as High Lord. He spent many hours with my father discussing Court politics; the Night Court and its swaggering new High Lord came up frequently.
I was grateful for my friends presence for many reasons, but particularly as it allowed me precious respite from being watched all the time; two High Lords under one roof meant the servants were constantly busy - especially Gagnon – so I was left alone. I took the opportunity to see Thea as much as possible.
One night, she found me in the library at midnight, and we sat discussing books until the sun began to peak from behind the surrounding hills, filling the room with a hazy shade of orange; it made her look even more beautiful, if that were possible.
We spent time by the lake again on another day, in the exact same spot where we had had our first conversation, and, just like that first encounter, she spent a lot of the time gazing into the glistening pool, as if looking for something.
“What did you lose?” I teased, prodding her arm.
“Nothing,” she laughed, and lifted her eyes to mine. “I don’t own a mirror, that’s all.”
I pulled a face in mock surprise as she grinned, and said, “Well in that case, carry on. Your hair is quite a mess.” I tucked a loose strand behind her ear and ruffled her hair.
She gasped, swatted my hand away, and pounded my arm with surprising strength, but the giggles that followed were infectious, resonating around the clearing. I couldn’t stop myself from joining in with her laughter, savouring the moment of pure joy.
“You really are beautiful, Thea,” I said through my glee. Her pearlescent cheeks blushed.
She bit her lower lip. “I think I’m falling, Lucien,” she whispered, and brushed her fine fingertips up my palm. I felt a shiver dash up my spine. No other words were necessary.
A week later, we arranged to meet in the wood store in one of the grey stone courtyards. Light rain fell from the cloudy sky, coating everything I passed with a fine mist of moisture that sparkled in the intermittent sunshine.
I arrived first, and, headed inside the large stone room, piled high with silver birch logs, scuttles of coal, and baskets of kindling. I closed the door and leaned against a small window, beside a wide flat-topped trunk that must’ve been used as a chopping block. The air smelled fresh and blended with the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops on the slate roof, soothing my anxious body and mind as I waited for her.
A fair few minutes passed before I heard the cart squeak on its approach to the store, and I found myself holding my breath as the door opened. Silhouetted in the doorway, she paused, her hand grasping the door handle. She wore a deep red cloak with a hood that completely obscured her face. She stepped inside, and leaned against the door, clicking it closed.
Without saying a word, she lowered the hood and gazed at me. Her hair was pinned up, displaying the sweeping curve of her long neck, the sharp point of her faerie ears. My breath was completely stolen. “Hello, Lucien,” she breathed, and dropped her gaze to the floor before flicking those vivid green eyes back to me.
“Hello, Thea.” I inched towards her. “Look at us both, getting caught here in the rain.”
“Such terrible weather,” she tutted, arching a sculpted brow, “Shame on it.”
“Indeed.”
“All these jobs to do, all these tasks to accomplish, and yet we’re trapped here…alone.” Her eyes danced.
I almost burst into flames.
She sloped her head to one side and smirked, “What are you thinking?”
I couldn’t speak. I felt powerless before her. I covered the space between us and pressed one hand against the door, right beside her head. Her eyes flicked up to me as I looked down at her, our breathing coming in gasps. I could feel sharp pulses of energy flowing between us.
“Are you going to kiss me, Lucien?” she asked. The way she said it made me realise she was not being coy, despite her teasing, she was nervous.
A hint of a smile pulled at the corner of my mouth as I whispered, “Would you like me to?”
She blinked slowly, her long auburn eyelashes suddenly damp with emotion. Her breath stuttered, and she pressed herself against the door. “I think I would, yes.”
“Are you sure?” I said, tipping my head slightly took catch her focus. “We’ve only known each other a short while, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing -”
Thea reached out and grabbed my tunic. Her eyes flashed with mischief before she pulled me towards her, but despite her assertive display, we didn’t crash together. My lips landed on hers with an immediate tenderness, my free hand instinctively slipping under the cloak and around her waist, tugging her close.
Her fingertips brushed against my cheeks, and pushed up into my hair, as she opened her mouth to mine, her body trembling as a soft moan escaped. We shared the same air, the same space in this world, and in that moment, I felt more alive, more wanted than I had ever in my life before. Thea was all I could feel, taste, and - even with my eyes closed – all I could see.
My fingers curled in the soft fabric of her dress, pulling her ever closer. I didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to let the moment end. I could feel her heart pounding against mine, and committed the rhythm to memory; that’s what I did to her, how I made her feel. It was euphoric.
Her breath shuddered in my mouth, and a tear fell from her cheek onto mine. We began to part, but in one final display of need her hands grasped my hair, then my shoulders, and finally my hands as she rested her forehead against mine.
We stood in silence for a minute, catching our breaths as the rain fell heavier outside. “I guess that’s it,” she said, eventually, “No going back now.”