Chapter Text
“I require your assistance immediately.”
Lucien didn’t lower his book or look away from it. “I don’t regret to tell you, little lord of darkness, that I’m visibly otherwise occupied. Behold the way I’m reading.”
A boy’s hand appeared at the top of the book and pushed it down just enough so that Lucien found himself being stared at by insistent blue-grey eyes. Honestly, he knew that trying to get Nyx to leave him be was an ultimately futile gesture. This was Feyre and Rhys’ child. Demanding behavior and a slight to major disregard for what other people were prioritizing was part of his very essence.
“It’s very extremely dire,” Nyx said, “And you’re best suited for this task, what with your skill for negotiation being known throughout Prythian and beyond.”
Lucien slipped the book out from under Nyx’s hand and tucked the leather bookmark into it. Better to do it now than wait for Nyx to potentially snatch his book and chunk it into a corner when he didn’t move fast enough for the princeling’s liking. Granted, Nyx was older now and had been instructed by more than one person on the consequences for the sin of throwing books, but… Just in case, Lucien didn’t want to lose his place. “That’s a sizable compliment and has earned you a minuscule amount of attention. What’s the task?”
“Freeing my captive cousins,” Nyx said. A hint of amusement glimmered in his eyes before he smothered it with earnestness. “It’s a truly desperate situation.”
“I feel like that you’re capable of devising a plot to rescue them without my help,” Lucien said. “I’m enjoying this book.”
“And you’d enjoy it more if I left you alone.”
Lucien took his feet off the plump hassock he had been resting them on. “Is that a minor threat?”
Nyx shrugged. “More like I’m just letting you know that I’ll keep talking at you like this if you decide to not help me until you decide to actually help me.” He bobbed a pseudo-bow. “Thank you in advance for your service.”
“So it is a threat.”
“A little innocent one,” Nyx said. “Like you said, minor.” He grinned and gestured toward Lucien’s feet. “You’re already part of the way to standing up, you might as well go ahead and do it. It’ll be fun.”
“You are aggravatingly your father’s son.”
“Yep,” Nyx said, unapologetic. “But after you help me, you can go back to reading or whatever you want to do, and I swear you won’t even hear us. Not a peep.”
Lucien sighed deeply and set his book to the side with a firm thump. He knew he should have taken the book somewhere else in the city than trying to read it at the River House. There was always his apartment farther down the Sidra, but he had felt like staying after finding this tome in the house’s library. Or he had been drawn to stay.
“Who has them captured?” Lucien asked, rising. So much for his quiet afternoon before dinnertime. “A tutor?”
“Worse,” Nyx said with a solemn shake of his head, “Family.”
“Oh, the injustice of it all,” Lucien said. “You know I can’t do much about that.”
“I don’t know,” Nyx said. He was already heading out of the little nook Lucien had been hiding in, walking backwards toward the hallway proper. “You’re so good at talking and listening, and this particular person needs someone to talk to.”
Lucien followed Nyx out into the hallway, wondering who he was supposed to be freeing the other two children from. If it was Cassian, Nyx would most likely turn to the right, to head outside to the training ring. If it was Feyre, they might head to her art room, Nesta or Gwyn or Amren would be the library, Azriel would most likely mean a turn to the study, to the family room for Mor, Rhysand…anywhere. But Nyx led him through the hall, down one turn, and kept speaking the entire way, a running commentary on how much he appreciated Lucien’s help and what it meant to him and—
The scent of jasmine and honey hit him outside the sunroom, and something inside him rumbled, reaching for it. The scents of night-blooming water lilies, a dash of clove, forge fire, and pine lingered as well, meaning the “captives” were also here.
Lucien’s golden eye whirled and clicked as he landed a hand on talkative Nyx’s shoulder. “You little devil.”
Nyx blinked up at him, all innocence, before a purely mischievous smile scrawled across his face. With a swift twist of his upper body and wings, he spun out from under Lucien’s grip and stepped inside the sunroom. “I brought the expert! Told you I’d find one.”
Elain lifted her head from where she had been leaning over a massive open book that was laid out on the white low table in the middle of the room. Her loose blondish brown curls moved back over her shoulder as her brown eyes widened. Sitting on either side of her on the wicker woven sofa, her two captives shared a secret glance that Lucien interpreted as ‘Night Court smug.’
The boy to her right, tall and brunette with his father’s hazel eyes and a spark of his mother’s inner fire, was Rhodes. On Elain’s left, teal-eyed Seryn pushed her single lock of white hair back behind her ear to join her black tresses. She offered Lucien a smile and started to scoot away from Elain, as if he was going to sit there in that newly made empty space.
Lucien made a subtle hand gesture in Day Court’s sign language for her to cut it out. Since she was studying the language under Helion’s instruction alongside him and her mother, she understood and stopped, the frown on her face so similar to Azriel’s that Lucien almost snorted.
Honestly, these winged Night Court younglings. They were going to be the death of him. He didn’t know exactly what they were up to, but he didn’t appreciate the subterfuge. However, he supposed that was partially his fault since he was one of their main tutors on navigating court politics and the like.
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what I’m the expert on,” Lucien said as he followed Nyx inside, shoulders back, a decidedly casual smile on his face. He declined to mention that he had initially been recruited for hostage negotiations. Apparently under extremely false pretense.
Elain glanced at Nyx, one delicate eyebrow lifted. Nyx nudged an elbow into Lucien’s side. “Of course you do. Day has lots of conservatories, and you’re the emissary to Day. You spend a lot of time there. You’ve seen lots of these.” He waved his hands at the book on the table.
A drawing of a conservatory spread across both pages, but it was of a design that didn’t belong to Day.
Lucien let his gaze up from the page to meet Elain’s. “Good afternoon, Elain.”
“Hello, Lucien,” she said with a small smile.
His name on her tongue crackled the embers in his chest and lifted them into a cheerful flame. Lucien gently, barely grazed the bond between them, the one she still hadn’t accepted or rejected. Not too long ago, she had been the one to initiate contact through the bond when she thought he had burned his hands on a tray of cookies. He could still feel the way her fingers had traced the lines of his hands. Since then, he could sense her teasing at her side of the bond, curiosity mixed with a hint of something she hid, all of which drove him slightly mad during those times. And caused plenty of plunges into whatever cold water was closest so he didn’t accidentally set something on fire or unravel a spell unintentionally. The children didn’t exactly know he could that last trick, and he knew all three of them would notice.
He still wasn’t the recognized heir of Day Court or even known as Helion's son, which was a decision he and Helion had made together. There was a reason his mother hadn’t wanted it known, and until he could ensure her safety and the safety of a few other family members, he wouldn’t claim his title. Therefore, he was still an emissary, still Beron’s youngest, still a wanderer, though knowing his birthright helped anchor him. He always had a true home now.
Sitting down beside Seryn, Lucien ruffled the girl’s black hair affectionately before taking a closer look at the book. She leaned against his side for a moment, one wing bumping into him. Nyx plopped down on the other side of the table. He looked up at the mural on the ceiling instead of the book.
“This one’s actually from Dawn,” Elain said, glancing at her distracted, scheming nephew. “Do you know how to tell the difference?”
“This isn’t class, is it?” Nyx asked. His smile was bright. “Are we being tested?”
On Elain’s other side, Rhodes reached over and tapped part of the drawing. “This.” He traced along the exposed beams. “It’s constructed from metal. Day favors stone or wood. Also, there are more geometric shapes here and Day likes circles and curves.” He shrugged as Nyx stared at him. “Don’t you pay attention when we go places?”
“Excuse me for not staring at the architecture.”
“We’ve had multiple lectures about it anyways, something should’ve stuck,” Rhodes said.
“You’re assuming Nyx actually pays attention,” Seryn said. She clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “There’s your first problem.”
Nyx’s wings rustled. “Oh? And you always pay attention, Ms. Plays With Starlight When She’s Bored?”
“Nyx…” Elain said, clicking her tongue to the roof of her mouth.
Seryn made a face at Nyx. “At least I don’t practice shapeshifting my nose when the tutors are talking.”
Nyx smirked. “You couldn’t anyways.”
Seryn’s tone was like frost racing across a lake. “Maybe not with magic but I could shapeshift your nose with my fist—”
“All right, then,” Lucien said, clapping his hands together loudly to cease the rising young Illyrian tempers. He cut his eyes at Seryn, who was usually the last to start a fight out of the trio. She lifted her chin primly, the Autumn Court coming out in her even though she didn’t realize it. Lucien looked over her head at Elain. “Why are we talking about conservatories?”
“I’d like to build one,” she said, leaning forward to flip the page of the book. The next conservatory was another from Dawn, all angles and massive windows. “One of my own design.”
Lucien nodded. He was sure that Rhysand and Feyre would foot the bill for that kind of project and hire the best builders in the Night Court. There were a few conservatories here as well, mainly for stargazing and growing vegetables out of season. But her own design…that was intriguing. “Are you going to ask Feyre to draw it for you?”
She shook her head. “No, I think I can do that. I’ve been practicing.” Elain pursed her lips in a way that was mildly tortuous for Lucien and tapped the page. “See, these windows, I like them, but I believe they look better in smaller sections.”
“But you do want as much light to get in as possible,” Lucien said, also leaning forward to get a better look at the page.
“Yes, for the plants,” she said, “I’d like some from the Continent as well, so I might need different sections in the conservatory.”
“You’ll have to mention that to the builders.”
“No, Luce, that’s the fun part,” Nyx said with a grin.
“She meant it when she said she wants to build one,” Rhodes said, giving his aunt a skeptical look. “With her hands. And tools.”
“Rhodes, are you implying that I couldn’t?” Elain asked, her brown eyes sparking with challenge.
He held up his hands. “Not really, it’s just a big job for anyone on their own.”
“And we have lessons and training,” Nyx said, “We can’t always help.”
“I’ll manage when you’re not around,” Elain said with a bit of a grin, “I need a new project.”
Little fingers flicked Lucien’s arm, though he didn’t need Seryn’s prompting. He was going to offer his help but not in a way that made Elain feel like she had to accept it. With the three of them so obviously conspiring in some sort of manner, it would feel forced. “What happened to the last project?”
“The community gardens are all doing well on their own,” she said, a blush coming to her cheeks, “They don’t really need me anymore.”
Elain had created multiple initiatives in the city over the years, the latest being the community gardens in different parts of the city. Lucien had seen the gardens steadily growing over the last two years, each one unique to the people who lived or worked around it. They were beloved in Velaris. Some were purely decorative while others were experimental and still others were filled with herbs or vegetables. A few were interesting mixes of plants. The conservatory would be more of a personal project, it seemed, though one that would benefit the household.
“We’ll help whenever we can,” Rhodes said.
“Help with what?”
Feyre was in the doorway, one hand on her hip as she surveyed all of them. She was in training gear, slightly sweaty, and smudged with dirt. Apparently he had misjudged that she was painting.
“We were discussing the conservatory,” Elain said. She gestured to Lucien. “I now have an expert on the matter on my planning committee.”
Lucien kept any surprise off his face as Feyre stared and then nodded. “Nice addition to the team. Remember, Elain, if you change your mind and would like for us to hire—”
“I can use my own hands,” Elain interrupted firmly. “I have unnatural strength like the rest of you. And it doesn’t need to be built in an afternoon. I’m learning new skills while I do this.” She looked like she was very decided on the matter, and Feyre must have decided not to push the issue since she simply made an affirmative gesture.
Cassian appeared behind Feyre, also looking like he had just come from the training ring, hair bound up in a bun. He grinned over Feyre’s shoulder. “We’re reclaiming the children. Let’s go, fledglings, hop to.”
“Do we get to change clothes?” Nyx asked.
“Nah, this is special training, what to do if you’re attacked in fancy clothes,” Cassian said. Lucien wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not. He pointed at Lucien. “Do you want in?”
“No, thank you, I like these fancy clothes the way they are,” he said, gesturing toward his trousers and nice white shirt that he didn’t want covered in dust and grim.
Nyx protested. “But you get to change with your siphons—”
“That’s different,” Cassian declared, “Get moving, lordling.”
Rhodes got up with a look of long suffering. “It’s no use, Nyx, Mum says it’s like arguing with a rock wall, and she’s not wrong.”
“I heard that, son.”
“I know, Da, that was the point.”
Seryn slipped out from between him and Elain, leaving a noticeable gap, as she followed the other children out the door. Cassian looped an arm over Rhodes’ shoulders and scooped up Seryn to toss her onto his shoulders, careful of everyone’s wings. Nyx rushed out past him, avoiding him with a neat dodge.
Feyre lingered for a moment, watching them. “Do you two need anything? A snack?”
“No, Mother Feyre,” Lucien said, rolling his eyes.
“Just offering,” she said, “Well, have a good time planning.” With one last stare, she headed out the door.
There was a long quiet pause. Lucien worried that it was about to become awkward. They had worked so hard toward a casual friendship, and if he ruined things by letting Nyx drag him here under false pretense—
“Would you really help me with this?” Elain picked up the tome and slid it into her lap. It was large enough that the edge of it brushed Lucien’s thigh.
“I take it you don’t mean the book.”
“Surprisingly, I can manage the book,” Elain said with a wry snap. “But the conservatory. If you’re willing, that is.”
“I’m not exactly an expert, as much as I was touted as such by Nyx.” He very much wanted to be in that moment. “But if you ask for my help, it's yours. I’ll give you a pair of hands to use as you will.” He could give her so much more… “And perhaps some heat in the colder months.” It would get cool in Velaris soon enough, and if she wanted to read into that—
The blush on her cheeks deepened. “I would appreciate it.” Elain closed the book in her lap. “I’ll help you on a project in exchange, of course,” she said, extending a hand.
Lucien hesitated. “Do you want to put more restrictions on that? Since this sounds like a bargain?” She was leaving it all rather vague.
Elain’s gaze was warm and a bit playful as she slipped her hand into his. Lucien’s calluses from fighting pressed against hers from gardening. “A project for a project? Seems fair to me. Partners?”
A smile tugged the corner of his mouth. He brought her right hand up to his lips and gently pressed a kiss to the back. “Partners. Until our projects are complete.”
Warmth spread across the back of his own right hand, tingling etching across his skin. Night Court customs and magic ran deep in the bargaining process around here.
Across the back of his hand was an intricate tattoo, loops and lines all completing a delicate symmetrical bit of filigree in gold instead of black. There was a hint of red to it, giving it a rosy complexion. An identical mark was on Elain’s hand. It looked beautiful on her.
Elain’s thumb brushed against the side of his before she pulled her hand back. If she was dismayed about the tattoo, she didn’t show it. “Do you…would you like to meet up for breakfast tomorrow in the city? To talk more about this without a running commentary?” Because they would certainly receive that kind of attention in the River House.
What in the world was happening right now. Lucien wasn’t sure what to make of it, but then he felt the tiny uncertain tug on the semi-dormant bond inside of him. Elain was curious. And if she was curious after more than a decade... Lucien inclined his head toward her. “Does it have to be this city?”
“What did you have in mind?”
Lucien’s smile was quick and sly. He was wary about this, but he would take a chance as well. “Dress for warm weather, and I’ll show you.”