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“Why are all here without Lucien?” Cassian asked with his arms crossed over his chest. It had been months since Cassian had stopped Lucien from hurting himself further, but that didn’t mean he still didn’t anger whenever the red head was accidentally left out. But this time he had the feeling this was on purpose, which made him bristle in anger.
“Well, brother,” Rhysand began, “Autumn Equinox is coming up and I intend to celebrate it.”
“But it’s a surprise for Lucien!” Feyre said excitedly.
“Oh I love surprises!” Elain matched her sister’s tone. Cassian was thankful she had gotten over whatever her aversion to her mate was, the downside was she was now one of his best friends. Was he happy for Lucien? Extremely. Was he jealous? Mildly. Nesta had teased him to no end when she walked in on him pouting on the couch because Lucien had chosen to sit next to Elain instead of him at family dinner.
“How do we know he’ll enjoy this surprise? What if it is a miserable day for him and that is the reason he told us he didn’t want to celebrate it,” Nesta said. That was also another development, her protectiveness of Lucien rivaled Cassian’s.
“Then we make new memories for him,” Feyre said with a soft smile.
“Problem, none of us know a single thing about the Autumn Equinox,” Mor spoke up, “Lucien is the only one who would know how to do this properly.”
“We could ask him, just as an offhand question,” Elain said.
“Or we might as well tell him we’re planning a party,” Cassian said.
“It’s not a party, it’ll be a small gathering,” Rhysand reasoned, “we don’t want to overwhelm him.”
***
“Mama,” Lucien’s little voice said as he tugged on his mother’s skirts. He followed her through the halls as she directed servants. One for flowers, one for food, the other to make sure Baron’s suit was ready.
“A moment, Lucien,” she said softly, giving one last order before kneeling in front of her son.
“What is it, dear?” She tucked a stray strand of wild red hair behind his ear.
“Carmine said Eris won’t come because I didn’t do well in training,” Lucien whimpered.
“Oh darling, that isn’t true. He’s coming and you must know that he does not care how you fare in training,” she assured him, “now run along.”
Lucien refused to let go of her skirts until a resounding grunt from the end of the hall made him cower. Baron’s upturned lip made him shrink as she walked over to his side, disappearing deeper in the manor.
“Eris!” Lucien shrieked happily as his older brother dismounted his horse. His little legs ran down the steps and towards him. Despite the annoyed expression on his face, he still bent down to receive his younger brother. Eris grabbed Lucien under the arms and tossed him into the air once before settling him in his arms. He couldn’t help but chuckle lowly at Lucien’s wild giggles.
“I’m assuming this means you missed me, hm?”
“Well duh!”
“Tell me, how are your studies going,” Eris said and waved off the servants who moved to take Lucien’s from him. No, Eris wanted to keep him in his arms a little longer.
“Well, I’ve been practicing with knives-”
“No, not training. Studies,” Eris interrupted. Lucien’s face brightened.
“I’ve been reading about the Night Court!” He said excitedly.
“Oh have you?” Eris questioned, side eyeing Roux, Asher and Carmine as they walked closer to them.
“Mhm and about the Day Court,” Lucien said. Eris’s blood chilled.
“Lucien, maybe don’t look so much into the Day Court. Father won’t like that,” Eris warned. Yes, keep him away from ever suspecting. It was the only way to keep him alive.
“Look who finally graced us with their presence,” Asher snickered, throwing an arm around Eris’s shoulder. The older Fae scowled, his grip on Lucien tightening.
“Just in time for celebrations to begin,” Carmine remarked, his hands gripping Lucien’s sides. Eris gave a warning growl.
“Let me hold him for a while brother,” Carmine pouted. Eris opened his mouth to speak but Lucien was ripped from his arms.
“Father has been looking for you,” Roux said, “enough playing with him.”
“Bye Eris!” Lucien waved, despite shifting uncomfortably in Carmine’s arms. Eris’s heart stopped at the blade Lucien didn’t know was pressed against his back.
“You’re too affectionate with him, you’ll make him more useless than he already is,” Asher spat as they walked away. One day, Eris thought, Lucien will bring you to your knees and I will help him.
***
The wind was beginning to chill in Velaris and the leaves faded from their vibrant green to orange. It reminded Lucien of the home he had as a child. As he walked through the streets with Mor and Elain he couldn't help but stop in front of a bakery advertising Autumn Court pastries. Without thinking, he stepped inside.
“Are these authentic?” he asked.
“As can be!” The cheery Fae answered, “my mother was from the Autumn court and she is the one who makes these every year!”
“Do you want some, Lucien?” Elain asked eagerly.
“Lucien Vanserra?” An elderly voice made him still, “no Vanserra is welcome here.”
“Nevermind,” Lucien said with a thick voice, “let’s go Elain.”
Without another thought, he turned on his heel and left the shop. Stupid, he was so stupid letting himself fall into nostalgia’s trap. Nothing would ever be like before. A pastry was a pastry. It was time he learned that lesson.
***
Lucien took a deep breath before swinging his sword at Ambrose, who dodged it easily and returned the blow. His sword flew out of his hands and Ambrose pointed the tip dangerously close to Lucien’s throat.
“Enough,” Eris barked, “both of you should be getting bathed and dressed.”
“Lucie needs more training,” Ambrose said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Lucien cowered away from him when Ambrose lifted his sword again. Eris caught his wrist, twisting his arm until his sword clattered to the ground.
“Go. Now.” There was no room left for discussion. Ambrose grunted when Eris shoved him forward, but he did as told leaving a string of curses in his wake.
Then he turned his attention to Lucien. He sighed seeing the cut on his face, Baron will surely make a big deal out of it later. Eris offered his hand but Lucien smacked it away, standing on his own.
“C’mon now Lucien,” he said, “you mustn't be so...univinting on the equinox.”
“Go to hell,” He snapped, storming away. Eris followed.
“Lucien,” he called in that tone that he hated using on his brothers. It always made Lucien still with every muscle tensed and fear gleaming in his eyes. “Next time, do not train with Ambrose. He’s a terrible teacher.”
“No one else will,” he answered.
“What do you mean?” Last time Eris checked, the twins had taken up training Lucien since he had turned 13.
“The twins won’t train me, Roux won’t because he says it’s the twins' problem, Asher would probably kill me and call it an accident. Ambrose was the only one willing.”
“In exchange for what?” Eris asked. Nothing was ever simple with Ambrose, he only ever did something if there was a guaranteed benefit for him.
“I take his place tonight,” Lucien answered. Eris snarled.
“You what?”
“I take his place in the Lighting.”
A thousand thoughts ran through his head but the primary was that Lucien was not ready for the Lighting. No 14 year old was. Yet Ambrose had shouldered his responsibility onto others, typical. If Lucien wasn’t careful in lighting the pyre, he could very well burn himself. If he didn’t run down the wooden steps fast enough, he could be engulfed in his own flames. Lucien would die and Eris knew this.
“You are a fucking fool, Lucien,” he growled, “you’ll die.”
“What if I die?” Lucien snapped, “Everyone would be better off if I did!”
“Even so, it would be a hassle,” Eris spat. He was not a kind brother, it was not his nature. He had grown up in the cruelty of his father’s parenting alone with no brothers to deflect the volatile attention to. Eris was not loving, though he tried. But his cruelty is always won.
“Fuck you,” Lucien whispered, tears in his eyes. Eris could not afford to be weak or to have weaknesses, even if it was Lucien.
At that moment, Rori stepped out from the manor. He stopped Lucien on his way inside, cupping his cheeks with concern in his face. Yes, let Rori be the kind one. When Eris was High Lord, he’d give Rori and Lucien a peaceful domain by the sea where they would never be bothered by their siblings again. Even him.
“Must you always be so harsh to him,” Rori snapped, “he’s just a child.”
“None of us were ever just children, Rori, and it is time he learns this before he gets himself killed,” Eris retorted.
“One day, Eris, you will regret treating him this way. I just pray for you that day comes while Lucien is still alive so you can beg for his forgiveness and not when he is dead.”
***
“What the hell are you three doing?” Cassian asked.
Elain, Feyre, and Mor looked sheepishly at them. Cassian and Lucien had been out training while Rhysand had gone to get lunch for all of them. Only to return to a kitchen covered in flour, pumpkin guts, and more brown sugar than any of them have ever seen in their entire lives.
“They’re trying to make a pie,” Lucien sighed with a soft smile. All three women grinned, despite being covered in flour. “For the record, you’re doing a terrible job.”
“Lucien,” Feyre whined, “then help us!”
“Why do you want to make pie anyways?” He asked, rolling up his sleeves.
“Well, for you! You looked so sad when the baker wouldn’t sell you any. I thought we’d make you one to lift your spirits,” Elain explained. Lucien glanced up to see both Rhysand and Cassian have deadly glints in their eyes.
“That’s very kind of you Elain, but I was staring at the apple pie not the pumpkin pie….” Lucien trailed off.
“...I told you to make sure it was pumpkin!” Elain hissed at Mor who threw her hands up in surrender.
“It’s fine,” Lucien assured her, “I like pumpkin too.”
“How can we help?” Cassian asked.
“Just do what I do, they have enough here for at least three pies,” Lucien said.
When he was growing up, Lucien used to love to sneak into the kitchen before the Equinox. There Amaya, the family’s baker, would let him help her make the desserts. Each year he’d do the same thing. Eventually he stopped sneaking and flat out asked her to teach him. It was the only thing his father ever gave him. It was always his favorite thing about the equinox. Not the presents or the party, but the peaceful morning baking.
Lucien’s hands moved expertly while the rest followed clumsily. Even Elain struggled a bit to keep up. Once the pies were filled, her told the others to start washing up. He grabbed a small knife and started to cut out fall leaves from the leftover pie crust. Feyre watched in amazement.
“I didn’t know you could bake,” Feyre said, “I lived with you for months both in Spring and here and not once have you told me you baked.”
“Must’ve slipped my mind,” he mumbled, concentrating on adding the veins of the leaves.
“You’ve got master control of that knife,” Cassian complimented awkwardly.
“Can’t let the pies look ugly,” he replied, starting to garnish them.
“Why on earth do you all look like you rolled in flour?” Nesta asked as she walked through the door.
“We were making pie!” Elain said excitedly, “Lucien showed us after we messed up the first time…”
“Finally putting those baking skills to good use, hm?”
“You knew?!” Feyre shrieked, “You told her!”
“You never asked,” Lucien said with an amused grin, “But seriously, Feyre, go wash your face. Your eyebrows are white and you have pumpkin on your forehead, though I have no idea how you managed that.”
That night Rhysand had calle everyone over for an impromptu family dinner. Everyone rolled their eyes. But once the pies started to smell, everyone’s eyes were glued to the oven. Never had they scarfed down dinner so fast to eat dessert. Even Amren, who had a strong dislike for sweets, had threatened Mor over the last slice.
“So tomorrow will you teach us how to make apple pie?” Elain asked.
“Sure.”
***
“Lucien, let me look at it!” Rori begged.
“No,” Lucien grumbled. Eris quirked his eyebrow in interest. The twenty three year old was sticking out his tongue at Rori, who eventually pinched it between his fingers while Lucien whined.
All the brothers had been cooped up in Eris’s old chambers all day at Baron’s failed attempt to keep them sober before the Lighting that night. He didn’t take into account Lucien’s sly fingers and Carmine’s hidden stash. It seemed the only time they all got along was when they were drunk. None of them were angry drunks, unlike their father. No, they were probably their friendliest selves when alcohol lowered their inhibitions.
“I-I just” hiccup “I just love you so much!” Carmine blubbered, clinging to Roux.
“Get off,” Roux grumbled, cheeks flushed.
“Wh-What if” gag “we stole the Pyre?” Ambrose giggled.
“How are you going to steal it?” Asher asked.
“We’re stealing?” Rori questioned.
“Yes, Ambrose, do tell how we’re going to steal a twenty foot Pyre,” Eris asked. He had drunk the least, he didn’t want to catch fire since it was his turn to light it.
“We could light it early!” Lucien announced as he stood, dragging Rori up with him.
“Yes!” Rori agreed. They both laughed, arms slung around each other's shoulders as they swayed. Until Rori’s foot slipped and they both fell to the floor with a thump. But they continued laughing as if it was the funniest thing in the world.
“Nothing says fuck you to the old man like lighting it early!” Ambrose said, “That way he can’t show off to any of his friends!”
“No,” Eris said, a small smile spreading his lips.
“I’m-I’m going,” Lucien hiccuped, opening the window and swinging one leg out.
“Lucien,” Eris warned. Lucien stuck out his tongue in response. “Lucien wait your too-”
“Opps!” Lucien jumped, landing with a resounding thud. He laughed, but covered his mouth to stay quiet. Rori followed with a swan dive and a curse from Lucien. Carmine and Asher shoved their way through together. Ambrose slinked out with his knees banging together. Roux, who had also had not nearly as much as the rest, had the rest of their alcohol stash in a bag swung over his shoulder.
“Eh fuck it,” he shrugged, jumping out.
Eris peaked out, seeing their mother’s flower bush flattened under her all of sons’ weight. He rolled his eyes, climbing down.
They all snuck to the pyre which was meant to be lit at sundown. Seeing them all try to sneak around in broad daylight was a sight to behold, but good thing his father was too busy trying to impress his court in the ballroom.
“We should all light it,” Lucien whispered loudly.
“No, you dumbasses stay down here,” Eris said, “and run when I say run.”
They all nodded dumbly and watched as Eris sneaked up the pyre. That year his father had gone out of his way to pay for the most extravagant pyre they had ever had. Eris smirked as the flames danced out of his hand and onto the oil soaked wood.
“Fuck you, Baron,” he whispered before running down the steps. “Fucking go!”
“Wooo!” Asher yelled as it was engulfed in flames. Soon they were all whooping and cheering. Until their father’s angered yell sent them running into the woods, the entire way they screamed and hollered. When their sentries followed them they climbed up the trees and hid until sundown.
That night they had built their own fire, dancing and singing around it. Carmine had kissed Roux on both cheeks for bringing the rest of their stash. There they had exchanged gifts of leaves and twigs, pretending to be the different High Lords.
“I am darkness incarnate!” Lucien said with a twisted smile.
“And I, the forever horny High Lord of Day,” Ambrose said, throwing himself onto Asher who had been pretending to be the High Lord of Summer.
They had woken up in the woods with head splitting hangovers. When they showed up to breakfast Baron had purposefully ordered the most nauseating foods be served, which had them gagging at the table. Asher had run to a flower pot to throw up then was ordered to sit back down. But they smiled secretly at each other.
It was the best Autumn Equinox any of them had ever had.
***
Lucien woke up to the smell of sweet potato and cinnamon. He groaned and sat up. If this was Nuala and Cerridwen’s doing he’d willing get down and kiss their feet.
Instead, he was met with the entire Inner Circle yelling “Surprise” when he turned into the kitchen. He was startled for a moment, before blankly blinking at all the food being made. Sweet potato with cinnamon sugar, roasted corn, cranberry sauce, meats in brown sugar rubs, spiced apples, and various pies were in the process of being made. Everyone stopped, holding their breath until he moved.
“Y-You did all this...for me?” he whispered, eyes scanning over crooked pie crust leaves.
“Did we...did we over step?” Feyre asked cautiously.
“No, no I just...it’s been so long,” he whispered, looking up with tears in his eyes as he smiled, “thank you.”
“Don’t thank us, little Lucien, you deserve this,” Rhysand said with a tight smile, his own eyes glistening.
“Alright now brighten up, you’re going to make me cry,” Cassian’s laugh bellowed as he walked over to pull Lucien into a tight hug. But Lucien knew it was so he could let the tears spill over onto Cassian’s shirt instead of his cheeks. Cassian gave him one last squeeze before letting go.
“What do we do after we finish?” Elain asked, “Breakfast?”
“No,” Lucien said with a smile, “we wait until sundown to light the Pyre and feast. Before then, no eating.”
“Fuck,” Cassian groaned.
“Shut up you big brute, you can hold out to sunset,” Nesta snapped with no bite in her tone, instead there was an amused smile.
“Well, my mother used to sneak a snack to us,” Lucien said, moving past them to the ham, which was already done. He motioned for Rhysand to lift it. “My mother used to slice off small pieces from the bottom and tell my father it was for balance. In reality she’d give it to my brothers and I to hold us off. She’d also sneak us some rolls.”
So they snacked on small pieces of ham and shared only a few corn bread rolls between. Once they finished, they eagerly stared at Lucien for what was next.
“What now?” Cassian asked.
“Well, traditionally we’d dance and work up an appetite but my father detested dancing. He’d use the time to snob around the court,” Lucien scoffed.
“Dance?” Feyre said excitedly.
“To what?” Azriel was the one to ask.
“Anything,” Lucien said. He didn’t have a warning before Feyre grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the living room.
“Show us, I know you can dance since you danced with me,” Feyre said eagerly.
“Very well then.”
The afternoon was full of laughter as Lucien taught them, or tried to, teach them the dances he and his brothers had done in their rooms as children. Before equinox meant responsibility. Before they became so divided. He taught them the songs his mother had taught him, until Cassian proclaimed they were boring. Then Lucien moved onto the most scandalous sea shanties that Rori had memorized. Those caught the attention of the Illyrians and soon the rest of the day was consumed with exchanging salacious limericks and sea shanties.
“What of the pyre?” Rhysand asked as sunset neared.
“It’s supposed to be made of the strongest tree of that year. From the ashes, a new one would be planted,” Lucien explained, “on it, food from our feast was to be placed on it as well. One year, my brothers and I set it on fire at noon. Then we ran into the woods and drank the rest of the day away.”
“Now that sounds like a good time,” Mor said.
“Yeah...it was the best,” he mumbled, “maybe no pyre, just a regular fire in the fireplace.”
“If that works for you,” Rhysand hummed.
So they wait for sundown. Lucien kneeled down and stared at the fresh wood that had been placed there. Never had he used his fire in front of them, if you didn’t count Feyre and him in the Autumn Court.
Earlier in the week he had done the math, this year would’ve been his turn to light the pyre as his family watched. It was always those equinoxes that hurt the most. But as he extended his palm and watched the flames from his hand extend to the wood, he knew that just that was happening. He was only lighting a small fire, but he was lighting in front of his family and that was more than good enough for him.
“Now we eat!” Cassian announced, “I’m starving.”
“I would only wait this long for you, boy,” Amren said, “now get up, we’ve indulged you all day.”
Lucien smiled softly at her words but mumbled, “start without me. I...I need a minute.”
“Of course,” Rhysand said, softly guiding everyone out.
Azriel’s hand ruffled Lucien’s hair as the younger male brushed a few tears away.
“You’re with family now Lucien,” Azriel whispered, “we’ll have thousands of more equinoxes together.”
“I know,” he whispered, “I never thought...Tamlin didn’t celebrate it. All we would do was have a pie for dessert.”
“Well, from here on we celebrate it. Now come before Cassian eats the entire turkey,” Azriel said.
“Okay,” Lucien whispered. When he stood he was pulled into another tight hug.
“I know it’s hard to accept at first that you have a family that loves you,” Azriel mumbled, “and you feel like it’ll disappear at any moment. I promise it goes away. We’re not going anywhere.”
“Thank you,” he whispered. Azriel pulled away, wiped Lucien’s cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater, and threw his arm around Lucien’s shoulders.
“I’m ready.” With those words, they walked towards the dining room where their rambunctious family’s joy echoed down the hall.
Maybe, just maybe, this equinox would be the second best.
The best would always remain the last joyous one he shared with his brothers.
***
Eris watched his brothers spar with sentries, blood splattering across their faces and onto the concrete below. He sighed, looking away. He began to walk aimlessly and didn’t stop until he was in front of an old curved tree. It’s roots separated just enough for a body to curl in. If he stared long enough, he could see a young Lucien curled in the tree’s roots excitedly reading a book on the other courts. He could see a teenage Lucien bandaging bruised knuckles. A Lucien so in love he sat under the tree, nestled in its roots, professing his love to a lesser Fae in letters.
Eris turned his head to look up at the sun, letting it bask on his pale cheeks until it stung like the unshed tears in his eyes.
“Happy Equinox brother,” he whispered. He hoped wherever Lucien was he was smiling, laughing. Even if it meant he would never come home again.