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She hadn't seen him in well over two hundred years. Her boy. Her youngest son, as far as she was concerned, and she missed him more than words could say. Lucien watched her uneasily from across the room. She hadn't laid eyes on her boy in too long. He'd been through so much without her. Alysanne brushed the copse of ashen locks from her eyes as he entered the dining room. Jurian and Vassa had been kind enough to offer the manor for her visit, although they'd clearly not warned Lucien of her presence. She'd noticed his scent- a deep, woodsy scent bolstering roasted chestnuts with an undercurrent of smoke- moments prior after the creaking of door hinges had alerted the great home to his arrival. Alysanne smoothed the wrinkles in her riding attire, took a seat on the ornate fainting couch opposite the main entrance to the great hall, and waited.
Eris had spoken to her of Lucien's wounding, of the scars crossing his left eye and even of the replacement Thesan’s people had managed to fit him with. He'd told her everything that happened the day Beron ordered Lucien's demise after he and Aristaeus had been released from the dungeons beneath Forest House. Alysanne knew what to expect, but she couldn't have been prepared by any stretch of the imagination.
His steps became hurried the closer he drew to the hall, likely having noted her own scent on the air. Vassa had made it a point to show Alysanne the estate before a lunch of bread and stew. Each room she'd ventured into would bear her scent for weeks to come. Alysanne watched the doors intently. The stained glass revealed a figure beyond them, but did not betray Lucien until he opened them, swinging them behind his body with great effort.
"Alysanne?" His voice was strangled. Heat had risen to his cheeks, and Alysanne fought the intense urge to sprint to him. The scarring obscured his entire left eye, from his hairline nearly to his lips. The replacement didn't hold the life and light of its counterpart's russett hues. She choked on a sob. Menoetius nearly killed him that day, she had been aware of the situation, but Mother above the scars. He took a step forward, raising a hand to Alysanne to assist in her standing. She didn't hesitate to take his hand. Alysanne stood, then used his outstretched arm to pull him in for a hug she hoped showed him every ounce of love and worry she'd felt for him in all these years.
"Oh, Lucien, it's so good to see you!" Her face was buried in his tunic against her wishes. Alysanne took a deep breath, steadying herself before the tears would undoubtedly begin to fall. She managed to take a labored step back to give him a quick once over, noting his appearance aside from the golden eye whirring to match her movements. "Look at you." She whispered. "My boy."
"Alysanne-" He started to speak, but Alysanne stopped him almost immediately.
"Sanie," She corrected, "You've never once spoken my full name to me, and we don't begin with that nonsense now. It would be like Astraea or Selene calling me Alysanne."
"You're the Lady of Autumn, now. It's only proper." His defense landed on deaf ears.
"And Eris is High Lord, yet I exclusively refer to him as 'the fireling' in court." A snark grin crossed her lips. "It infuriates the courtiers, which elates your brother far more than it should." Her eyes observed his thin frame again, this time taking in the obvious exhaustion written in the margins. Eris had told her Lucien had been working for the Night Court as an emissary to the human lands in exchange for access to his recently discovered mate. For the many things Rhysand had said or done, this was high on the list of reasons why Alysanne wanted to murder her elder brother. Lucien was running himself ragged for such little payoff. She opted to change the subject. It wasn't likely Lucien was willing to discuss his mate or her brother, or any of the other myriad travesties which had befallen him in his time away from Autumn. "I have some things for you!" She declared, motioning to a paper-wrapped parcel bound in twine. Alysanne sat down as gracefully as she could, given the shortened stature of the couch compared to the length of her legs (it had obviously been crafted for human use only, she'd surmised when observing the room initially) then patted the seat next to her.
Lucien cocked his head to the side, his fiery waves falling over his face to obscure his organic eye. He didn't seem to trust her, but took the steps towards the couch and sat next to her. Alysanne wondered at what had transpired that would give him cause to distrust her. She adored her children. She'd never raised a hand to any of them, had doted on them morning, noon and night. She'd raged against Beron for casting him away. In truth, there had very nearly been a new High Lord of Autumn then, but she had been unable to overcome Beron's power in her state of distress.
"You didn't have to come all this way, Sanie." He commented softly while tugging at the twine binding the package. Astraea, Calliope, and Selene had written him letters over the years, letters Beron had forbade delivery of. She'd found them locked away in an old, cedar chest bearing their infant blankets and other momentos when her and Eris had finally moved into Forest House full-time a couple months prior. Her daughters had added new letters to the pile, as had Aristaeus, Atlas, and his remaining brothers. Alysanne had prepared a whole host of baked goods, tucked in multiple bottles of their finest wines, and a sweater she'd crocheted in a panic when she realized the weather in the human lands could be unpredictable. She'd had to guess at the size, of course, but had used Eris as a base. He had always been shorter than her mate, but broader, and her intuition paid off the moment he withdrew the mustard-toned article of clothing and held it to his chest.
"I sent a letter a few weeks back, but it seems you haven't been here to receive it. I-I wanted, no needed, to see you, Luce." Alysanne's gaze didn't leave him as he began sorting through the layers of parchment and eyeing the wax seals on each one. Aristaeus, as heir, had designed his own seal, as tradition dictated. The one likely catching his attention, however, bore the Summer Court's insignia. "Calliope," Alysanne explained gently, "As it would turn out, her and Tarquin are mates. They met during the battle."
"Lucky Calliope." Lucien attempted to jest, but the joke fell flat. She placed a hand on his shoulder. His eyes swiveled up to meet hers. She'd crocheted his sweater in a hue nearly identical to his left one. That hadn't been intentional. She'd picked a mustard yarn to complement his bright hair and dark skin. Alysanne twisted the tiniest bit of his fine hair around her fingers before releasing the waves.
"Lucky Calliope, indeed. It is a rare feat to find one's mate. It is even rarer for those mates to be a good match. My mother and father were wretched, and the damned bond between them only made matters worse."
"You and Eris have never had that problem." She could scent the ire hiding behind his words before seeing it plainly in his eye.
"Eris and I never intended to stay together." She explained softly, rehashing memories she'd nearly forgotten. "We eloped to save me from the Night Court. I owed him my life. The bond snapping when it did was sheer luck. We had already fallen in love by then. The bond, for us, was a convenience."
"Mine is a perpetual dagger to my side." His head dropped, his grip on the letters remained firm, but Alysanne could feel the tension coiled in his grasp. "If I'm even permitted to see Elaine, it's rare she wants to see me."
Alysanne had heard about this particular facet of their mating through the grapevine. Aristaeus had traveled to Night on occasion to meet with Cassian and Azriel. He'd borne witness to the Archeron sisters' unique predicament. The eldest was supposedly spiteful and angry with anyone who approached the middling sister. The middling sister, Elaine, had broken some piece of her mind during the events that transpired during the war resulting in their becoming fae. Aristaeus saw them once, but they had been a common topic of conversation between the generals and the spymaster.
"Does she know who you are? What you are to her?" Alysanne hedged the questions in a near-whisper. If what Aristaeus has said was true, Elaine may not even be fully aware.
"I-I'm not sure, to be completely honest, but I don't care. I want to help her, to take care of her. Sanie, I want to hold her when she's scared and comfort her, but I'm not allowed near her. It's the worst torture I've ever endured." Lucien, with his tall frame towering over Alysanne, crumpled onto her shoulder, letters scattering to the tile floor. His ribs shook with sobs he tried to hold back, but Lucien bawled. "She-she smells like roses and fresh cut hay, and I love her, Sanie. She's on my mind every waking moment and many of the sleeping ones." A deep, ragged breath in. "She won't even look at me."
Alysanne rubbed soothing circles into his back and shoulders. Suddenly they weren't both adults sitting in the human lands, they were two hundred years younger, and Alysanne was hugging him when he'd scraped his first knee. Lucien had sat on her lap that morning, all of two years old, still in diapers, his little head resting on her shoulder. She'd sworn to him then she'd always help him when he hurt. Right now, he hurt more than anyone she'd ever met. Her boy needed her.
"Who is barring your access to her?" Alysanne asked, already knowing the answer.
"Rhysand, mostly. Nesta is another issue as well."
"Rhysand can be handled. He has no rights under the laws binding Prythian to keep her away from you. She's your mate. Perhaps he needs reminding that even he is bound to those laws." Lucien shot up, his spine straightening in an instant.
"You would do that?" His gaze flickered across her face, then down to their gathered hands. Lucien had known bits and pieces of her history before his banishment. He'd been aware of the role the Night Court and her brother had played, especially after Azriel had begun visiting when time permitted. If he was aware of her torture under the mountain, she didn't know, but Alysanne was a mother. She had raised this male from the time he had been born to the moment Beron cast him out of Autumn. He was hers just as much as those she'd borne herself.
"For one of my children? Of course. I'd do anything." Her thumb glided over his knuckles.
"What if she doesn't- What if it's not Rhys-" Alysanne didn't let him finish the sentence. She knew where his line of thought was trailing.
"That is for her to decide, Luce. She is your mate, but she has also undergone a metamorphosis the likes of which Prythian has never borne witness. She needs time, space, and support. I never could have recovered from Amarantha had it not been for Eris’s patience. Perhaps what she needs now is yours." Alysanne paused for a moment, deliberating on her next words. Their relationship was strained, but Eris truly would be the best person for him to discuss this with. "Consider speaking with Eris, Lucien. I will never know the full extent of what he went through in those days. It sounds as if the situations aren't entirely dissimilar."
Lucien appeared to take her words into consideration. She didn't know they full story he'd been given over the years since Amarantha's reign. She had no way of knowing if Lucien knew what trials she had overcome, but she hoped he would hear the plea in her voice. She hadn't trusted herself in those days to distinguish vision from reality. She hadn't been able to figure out which iterations of Eris were true for months. It had been his determination that guided her and saved her. From what she'd heard of Elaine, it seemed the young female was in a similar situation.
"Speak with Eris. He may have something more to say which I do not." Alysanne glanced at a clock sitting atop the mantle. "We have dinner tonight with all of our children. The only one missing is you. There's always a place set for you, if you wish to join. The first Saturday evening of the month around six. Bring Jurian and Vassa." What had begun as a request turned into a directive, though she hadn't realized it or intended it as such.
Lucien took in Alysanne's form as she broke their embrace and stood. Her ashen hair was still too short from being relentlessly burned by Amarantha to be braided into the coronet she preferred. Her hair instead had been tied loosely in a forest green ribbon, matching the green of her tunic flawlessly. The light brown tones of her leathers and slightly oversized fit, seemed out of place against her fair complexion, but Lucien guessed that had been a compromise for her leaving Autumn without Eris. A log cracked in the fireplace across the room, garnering a harsh shudder from Alysanne. She shook her head and shoulders, blinked rapidly, then glanced to Lucien.
"I can't promise the others, but I'll be there, Sanie."
"Good. Just because you lot call yourselves the Band of Exiles doesn't mean you have to live in exile. You all have a family, a place to call home, if you want us." Alysanne embraced Lucien once more before winnowing back to Forest House.
-
The collective gasp heard around the room reverberated through each person's body when Lucien stepped into the dining hall for the first time in centuries. Eris stood from his seat at the head of the table.
"Welcome home, Lucien." He raised a partially-full wine glass in Lucien's direction. A whirl of sound grated off the walls as each member of the family began speaking all at once. Only happiness and camaraderie spewed from each person. Not a trace of the court Beron had created remained.
Alysanne watched as introductions were made around the hall. Many of the younger fae in attendance had met their new spouses or mates during the war. If the scents passing through the air didn't deceive her, at least one of the females were pregnant, though she wouldn't be the one to broach the topic in the event they had reason to keep it secret a while longer. Alysanne had known reason enough to hide each of her own pregnancies for a considerable time. Far be it from her to out one of those she adored so.
Lucien spent ample time observing the group. Aristaeus mostly chatted with Eris about recent events concerning them at court. Aris had always favored his father, but here, now, it was difficult to tell them apart. Aristaeus had cut his hair shorter since the last time Lucien had seen him, reinforcing their similarities. Alysanne pestered Tarquin and Calliope for details on their upcoming public, mating ceremonies, much to Tarquin's enjoyment and Calliope's chagrin. The young female he'd last seen was nowhere in sight. Before him sat the Lady of Summer, her skin tanned from her undoubtedly frequent beach trips and her copper hair falling in effortless waves around her midsection. Selene bantered with Astraea and Atlas. Atlas looked the same as he had during Alysanne's rescue, as did his other brothers, but the sisters had changed so much. Selene, ever the portrait of their mother, looked nearly identical to Alysanne, as she animatedly described a conversation she'd had with a baker earlier in the week. Astraea had always been the one who's looks changed throughout her life, though settling thoroughly into adulthood had rubbed away the edges in her features. She sat next to a Dawn Court male Lucien did not recognize, her strawberry locks braided tightly away from her face showing off her bright, violet eyes.
He sat near the end of the table, beside a female whom he couldn't quite pin their home court for. One of his brother's females, he supposed. A male with dark-toned skin, hair, and eyes sat opposite him, hands interlaced with Atlas's. The conversations all eventually turned to him, to ask how Night had been treating him or how his life in the human lands had been. Lucien filled a glass with the dry wine generously placed around the table for consumption with their meal while answering. Eventually, it was his turn to ask the burning question on his mind.
"I need help with my mate." Silence fell across the table, Eris’s gaze in particular settling on Lucien. "How do I get her to accept me?" The silence immediately erupted as suggestions were hurled around the room (along with comments of "Don't listen to Aristaeus, he wouldn't know know how to fascinate a female if one wrote him a guide" after Aristaeus suggested offering Elaine a complex platter of cheese as a gift). They had some ground to traverse, plenty of awkward situations to navigate and time to make up on, but Lucien had a home once more among his brothers and sisters.
And Alysanne had her son back.