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Elain tried to wait.
Just a few hours while Lucien worked off some - what had he called it?
Agitations.
Yes, that was it. Just a few hours while Lucien worked off some agitations from the few days they had spent holed up in his manor in the Spring Court.
Elain hadn’t told anyone she was going with him. It was difficult to work up an excuse to be left alone without any chance of someone deciding they could come interrupt her for this or that. She wasn’t even sure how long they’d be gone doing… Well. Elain blushed just thinking about what she and Lucien had been doing.
In the end, though, it hadn’t been as tricky as she thought. Lucien was always skipping off to the Spring Court to help sort it out from the mess Tamlin had left it in after the war, and her sisters were so caught up in their own busy lives that Elain had found it somewhat easy to go. She simply slipped her arm through Lucien’s, gripped him fiercely with her eyes squinted shut, and in a blink he’d taken her to the fields and flowers and songs of another world.
Their world.
She liked their world. She liked it very much. And no one knew about it.
There was something exciting about sneaking off with Lucien to be with him when no one else was aware. Elain had proven her worth several times over during the war and after; Rhys’s hair was still growing back in spots from one particular incident Elain took care not to gloat over too much. But everyone always assumed they knew everything about Elain when in truth, Lucien was fast becoming the only one who knew anything about her at all.
This pleased Elain to no end. Lucien was her private corner of the world to disappear into and be her delightful, freed self full of gentle breezes through his hair, sunshine on his skin, and the sweet, fragrant scent of flowers on his breath as they lived and laughed together.
And no one ever was ever privileged enough to see it but they two.
Until, well, today. Now that they’d mated, they would have to tell their friends and family.
Mates.
Huh, Elain thought. The word still rang a funny tune through her making her body loose and taut all at once. And it reminded her of just what she was pacing up and down her room at the House of Wind to desperately avoid. Lucien wasn’t even there, but just the mere mention of him - her mate, her lover, her friend and companion from here to eternity - had her blood singing, calling him back to her.
An unreasonably giddy, uncontrollable smile broke out on her lips just thinking about him and all the ways he’d touched her, felt her, known her over the last few days.
A handful of hours in meadows and manors wasn’t enough, Elain decided. Lucien may have needed to do some sparring to work off some steam before they addressed their family properly, but Elain had some agitations of her own to deal with.
Smoothing down the folds of her dress, Elain steadied herself and left her room aware of every little creak and crack the house sent snapping under her feet. It was like it wanted her to be found out, which made her all the more nervous. She just wanted a few glimpses of her mate to hold her over until she could get her hands on the real deal a while later.
The house, mercifully, let her be despite its groanings as she climbed the stairwell that led to the courtyard carved from the grim set rocks above the House of Wind where she knew he would be sparring. Where her mate would be.
Carefully, Elain sat herself in the shadows and peered out towards the ring and in one flash of that brilliant red hair as Lucien glided on air around Rhys, Elain knew she had made a very, very big mistake in coming up to watch.
Every muscle on Lucien’s body rippled as he moved beneath his skin now slick with sweat from Cauldron only knew how long he’d been going at it (and Elain now knew from personal experience his stamina was quite in tact, thank you very much). His hair, pulled back in an elegant braid she had helped him fasten that morning just before they’d winnowed to Velaris, twisted and flew around him as Lucien danced, little wisps and strands untucking themselves here and there. And it was a dance for him, each step perfectly choreographed as he met with the High Lord of the Night Court and broke away with lightness and rhythm.
It wasn’t quite the horrifying, brutal aggression Lucien had been so worried about Elain seeing, but it didn’t matter because watching him like this, in action with all the risks and terrors of war stripped away - it did things to Elain. Made her blood race and her heart flutter and her body shake with the need to be near him. She could smell him even at this distance and it made her crave him with an ache that she thought might never be satisfied no matter how many times she had him.
Shit, Elain thought, allowing herself the vulgarity of word and thought that others never attributed to her. Her leg started to bobble and tap where she sat trying to work off the sensations building up in that blasted mate bond. It was going to drive her nuts.
A near inaudible whine sounded from Elain and Lucien missteped - just a smidge before continuing his parry. A torrent of questions and anxiety and outright need poured down the bond and Elain knew Lucien could sense her presence there.
But there were others on that rooftop with Lucien and Rhys that kept Elain from moving forward. Rhys was one thing, but Cassian and Azriel were playing with their Illyrian weapons not twenty feet over, and Mor and Feyre were tearing at each other with knives for practice.
If Elain was spotted anywhere near Lucien, they would all just know, she was certain. Just like they always knew everything about her and it would ruin everything.
She wanted dinner. She wanted dancing. She wanted an official announcement like she’d had when she’d been human.
They were mates. This was special. Elain was going to turn back before someone dragged her out into the sun and exposed her great secret. She was going to -
“Ah!” Elain yelped, loudly enough to draw the attention of the courtyard. Behind her now turned back, she could hear the grunts and clashing of metal come to a halt within a heartbeat of her getting up, turning around, and running smack into her sister coming up the stairwell.
Into Nesta.
Standing in her leathers, Nesta looked ready for a fight - more so than she did all on her own. Cauldron, Nesta could have been naked and looked ready for battle. Elain didn’t know how Cassian did it.
“Where have you been?” Nesta demanded and there was the lightest trace of concern tucked underneath the question that Elain kept her head about her.
She chanced one look at Lucien, swallowing the buildup of anxiety that built in her throat, but that was her second mistake. Their eyes locked across the courtyard and thank the Cauldron, Rhys jumped at Lucien cutting off the view and the two resumed their grappling.
“Busy,” Elain said sweetly, calling her usual charm and airiness to her that her sister was so used to. Regrettably, she tore her eyes away from her mate. “I just came up now to see everyone.”
Nesta arched a wary brow. Elain sometimes wondered if the Cauldron had taken Nesta’s natural ability to sense a lie and magnified it a hundred times over. Which was just another reason Elain needed to get back to her room and wait for Lucien to come get her. Wait for him to finish working through the frenzy of the bond. Wait for him to shower off and clean up all that sweat and…
And…
“Why are you staring at him?” Nesta asked sharply. Elain hadn’t realized she had been. But his scent was so strong, so palpable on the wind - cinnamon and deep, intoxicating spices that drew her in and never let her go, she couldn’t help but stare.
And he damn well knew it.
A teasing wave of heat flushed down the bond in response. If Lucien hadn’t been busy working on Rhysand, Elain knew she would be able to spot that irritable smirk resting on him, the one she loved to kiss off his face so much. And oh how he very much enjoyed letting her do it.
She had to dig her feet in on the ground not to shudder, this bond made her so damn sensitive from the slightest look, the slightest touch. She was going to have a stern talking to Feyre later on for not having better warned her about how bloody consuming this mate bond business could be.
And now Feyre was walking over towards her on the stairwell, Mor hot on her heels. And Nesta was still staring at her with that same look of selfish disdain that made her want to ensure her little sister was safe and sound at all times even as she tried to trust her growing in to her own independence. And all the while, Elain could feel that pressure building, building, building inside of her as Lucien sparred and why couldn’t she just stop staring already? And the Illyrians were eyeing her, a playful amused smirk teasing on the general while the shadowsinger gave her a sympathetic look like he knew exactly what was coming and maybe he did and Elain almost didn’t care except this was not how it was supposed to go and -
Rhys landed a blow on Lucien’s jaw that hit hard. The groan that came out of him snapped something inside Elain right as Nesta went to challenge her again.
“I don’t like when you two start staring at each other. It makes me-”
“Lucien and I mated!”
Elain clapped both hands over her face to hide the crimson overtaking her cheeks from what had just come blurting out of her mouth.
“Elain!” Nesta said, and it was all shock.
“Elain!” Feyre said, and it was all beaming pride.
“I know, I know!” Elain said still hidden behind her hands. She pried her middle fingers apart on either hand and peered out at the group, her eyes scanning for Lucien.
Strike three.
Her body went thick with the need for him.
She wanted to run to him. Cauldron, it was hard not to give in. But if she did - if she went to him, one thing would quickly lead to another and Elain was really not one for an audience, but… his chest was still moist with sweat and that scar ran down his face like an invitation to lick and love and damn that fox if he didn’t stop sending her the filthiest images of where else she could put that tongue of hers if she wanted to lick him so damn badly.
But everyone was still staring at her and they were… they were smiling?
Relax, Lucien said through the bond even if he sounded immensely on edge himself, sending waves of soothing relief over her that had her easing her hands down off her face. It’s okay. He was sacrificing his own discomfort, his own need to take her then and there to reassure her, make her feel comfortable.
These were her friends. Her family. And suddenly she remembered how excited she was to share her new life with them.
Adrenaline and all kinds of hormones pumping through her, Elain threw her arms in the air high above her head and shouted to all of Velaris with wicked joy, “We mated!”
Mor cocked her head back and reared with laughter, utterly delighted. She enveloped Elain in a hug that left a quick kiss on the cheek and a Congratulations whispered in her ear. “There had better be a dinner,” she said as she pulled away. Elain nodded vigorously that there would be - tonight, if she had her way.
“Oh Elain,” Feyre said in that cool, collected way she had of showing her approval coming to hug her. “I do hope you made him your blueberry crumble. Cauldron knows that would at least get him to finish the plate before he pounced.”
Elain’s cheeks flushed again, but one look at her younger sister’s knowing smile, the one that reminded Elain this was all okay and that Feyre had been in her shoes once, and Elain felt herself relax a little.
“Actually, I switched the blueberries for apples and added a few pears. Lucien really likes pears.”
“I’ll bet he does.”
A small giggle escaped out of Elain and she clapped a hand over her lips to keep from exploding all over again with all of the insatiable joy and love she was feeling. But it hardly mattered anymore.
“So,” Feyre said with an endearing spark of playfulness in her eyes that Elain had never seen in her sister before Prythian - before her High Lord had found her. “How… was it?”
Words utterly failed Elain, but the smile that broke over her face, consumed every feature right down to the freckles she shared with Feyre on her nose, did plenty of talking. “He has very long fingers,” Elain gasped, half a laugh.
“Elain,” Nesta groaned.
The subtle dig at her bond set Elain off before she knew what her own body was doing to her.
“If you hurt so much as one single strand of red hair on his head, Nesta Archeron,” Elain said, whirring about to grab a fistful of Nesta’s leathers and swinging her about, “I will have you so strung up by the balls, Cassian won’t know what to do with you!”
Eyes focused wholly on Nesta, it was only through sound that Elain heard the gasps of Feyre and Mor’s jaws dropping and the deep, booming laugh that echoed out of Cassian.
“Mother’s tits!” Cassian roared. “Maybe I should fight her. At least she’s got some energy left - shit.”
Lucien launched himself at Cassian before the words had finished leaving his lips, abandoning Rhys in the process. A cascade of fists and blood reigned down between them as the mate bond brought Lucien up to the general’s level of fighting and the two became a tangle of feral animosity.
“Don’t you dare laugh at her,” Lucien snarled between blows. It only made Cassian laugh harder.
Heat suddenly overwhelmed Elain as she watched her mate pummel Cassian against the hard ground.
So that was what he’d warned me about…
Feyre put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I know exactly how you feel.”
“No you don’t,” Elain protested, fighting off the surge of feelings coursing through her new fashioned system.
“Yes, she does.” Mor took Elain’s hand and pulled her towards the stairwell. “Come on. I think you’re gonna wanna be inside for this while they talk it out.”
“Not one single hair, Cassian!” Elain shouted over her shoulder before she rushed into the stairwell and disappeared downstairs.
“I knew he was too relaxed this morning,” Rhys said when he appeared in the downstairs dining room of the House of the Wind with Azriel moments after the girls had made it.
“You knew?” Elain’s eyes went wide.
“Are you kidding me?” Rhys huffed a short snort. “You were all over him and it’s not exactly like Lucien to seek me out for a fight at arms. Words maybe, but rarely just to spar for the sake of it. Not to mention you disappeared for near on a week.”
“And here I thought I was being clever keeping it quiet.”
“He was clearly frustrated the second he stepped into the fighting ring with me this morning, but it was too controlled. Nothing like what you saw with Cassian just now. When it comes to mate bonds, Cassian has a way of being…”
“An asshole?” Azriel offered. Rhys nodded.
“If you had been there, this would have happened a lot sooner and we would be halfway through dinner by now.”
The boys began toweling off the sweat and Elain was left pondering how uncontrollable everything about these mate bonds seemed to be. She looked at Nesta, and the rest of the room promptly found other conversations to be a part of.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Elain said. “It’s just-”
“I know,” Nesta said, waving her hand through the air to brush it off, her face set rather hard. “I just wish you hadn’t felt like you needed to hide it from me.”
A tinge of regret for her harsh commentary in the courtyard filled Elain.
Nesta had struggled with Lucien, the most out of anyone. The idea of relinquishing Elain to another person was… trying at the best of times for Nesta. That anyone else might love her as fiercely, as deeply, as loyally was not easy for her to come to grips with.
But Lucien did and then some, and Nesta was still coming to terms with that, as evidenced now by the reproach in her voice as she was forced to listen and watch her sister gush over her mate right in front of her. But Nesta had Cassian. She understood what this meant for Elain even if she and Cass weren’t mates themselves. Finding somebody - the somebody - was a privilege and a Cauldron blessed gift Nesta could never have denied the most favored person in her world.
Even if it nearly tore her apart some days to do it.
Looking at her sister, Elain searched Nesta’s eyes, noticed the way her fingers curled tightly against her palms, her arms tucked too close to her sides in a way that signaled to Elain how nervous Nesta was. Not many people could read that on her.
“Of course - I’m happy for you,” Nesta said, her voice lower, flexing for the good to outweigh the fear.
“Yes you are!” Elain yelped overwhelmed with the gratitude of her sister’s blessing. She grabbing Nesta and pulled her into a hug that elicited only a groan from the recipient. “What now?” Elain asked, trying not to let her back and forth temper get the best of her.
Nesta sighed. “You smell like him. It’s all roses and honey still, but it’s there. Cinnamon.” She said it like a dirty word.
Elain pulled back and laughed something fierce at her sister’s discomfort. It was all rather amusing to her now. Nesta threw her hands up and pointed at Feyre. “Please do something about this. It’s too sickeningly sweet.”
“You know, I do recall there was a time when you wouldn’t shut up about a certain something Cassian could do with his tongue after you first got together,” Feyre shot back.
Azriel hid a glib snort. “I seem to recall he wouldn’t shut up about it either.”
“Don’t run your mouth at me, Az - fuck.” Cassian strode down the stairs and into the room. Elain was instantly on her toes at the disheveled sight of him, bloodied and bruised and grinning ear to ear like he was proud of it. Lucien was nowhere in sight.
“Don’t worry,” Cassian said, taking a towel from Rhys and drying himself off as he looked at Elain. “This is nothing. Rhys was so shitfaced coming back from that cabin with Feyre, I gave him a blow worse than your boy out there. Cauldron boil me,” and Cass rolled his eyes. “They fucked everywhere until we left for Hybern and worse when we got back after the war.”
“Mother above, Cassian.” Mor’s head rolled back as she sighed frustrated. “They did not fuck everywhere.”
“Ah,” Azriel made the faintest of protestations. “I did find her underwear on the roof and that was after they-”
“Can we please!” Morrigan said, sidling up to her shadowsinger, but the look she gave him was wickedly pleased. “Azriel,” she mumbled low into his ear, just for him. Elain wondered if Mor didn’t enjoy Azriel’s rather secret baudy sense of humor more than she let on.
“Where is Lucien?” Elain asked Cassian. The words exchanging around her sort of floated in and out as she continued to wonder at how close to Cassian’s damaged body Lucien’s would match.
Cassian shrugged. “See for yourself.”
A slight breeze picked up blowing through the open balcony doors from behind Elain as Lucien entered the room. Elain was caught unawares by the scent of him so forcefully she could hardly stand to stay on her feet.
His scent.
Lucien.
Her mate.
Again, the word clanged through Elain as she watched Morrigan’s eyes light up with an enthusiastic grin, exchanging a knowing look with Feyre. Elain felt her senses kick in to overdrive looking at her mate prowl towards her with a hungry expression that went beyond the blood and bruises covering his face.
She couldn’t help it. The most peculiar instincts roared to life inside her when she looked at Lucien. He was hers, hers, hers and she was his, his, his and right now her body was screaming at her now, now, now and she had no idea how to stop it and best of all, she didn’t want to. And neither did he.
The room quickly depleted of occupants, Elain barely hearing Rhys mutter at Lucien as Feyre pulled him towards the balcony, “Might I suggest the kitchen table?”
The snarl that ripped out of Lucien as he grabbed Elain, pure venom overtaking him in Rhys’s direction, was unnatural. It sent little pulses of tingling electricity up and down and over Elain’s skin.
“I’m perfectly dignified to take her somewhere comfortable, you ass,” was all Lucien managed to say before his fingers were gathering the length of Elain’s dress up, up, up.
“You prick,” Feyre said to Rhys.
Any other day and Elain might have taken the time to notice how her sister flicked Rhys on the nose. Any other day and she might have taken the time to admire how they flew from the balcony together with wings so foreign to her. Any other day, any other person.
But right now, Lucien was sweeping her into his arms and all she could think about, all Elain could feel and breathe and see and taste, was him. Her mate and home and life boring into her with his lips and heart as he began undressing her ever so frantically.
“You can take me on the table,” she said despite Rhysand’s taunting, her words tumbling out of her in a heady frenzy of a gasp while her hands did their own searching on Lucien. He nodded vigorously.
“Yep, yep, yep,” he said before kissing her through his smile. And that smile set Elain’s heart on fire.
I love you, Elain urged down the bond. Lucien shivered against her and she felt the emotion come flooding back in droves.
Love. Tenderness. Affection. Words were useless to describe the caress of emotions Elain sent down the bond as she and Lucien continued their dance in the middle of the House of Wind, not bothering to care if the others were near enough to hear the sounds Lucien elicited out of Elain in the next several minutes.
”Cauldron, Elain,” Lucien breathed, his mouth hot against her skin as they laid against the floor. In the end, the table didn’t make it. “Do you suppose that’s what Nesta had meant by the thing with Cassian’s tongue?”
Elain folded herself into Lucien’s side tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder. “I damn well hope not! If it is, I don’t want to know, but if I’m being honest…”
Hearing Elain fall silent, Lucien pulled her chin up to make her look at him and she felt the curiosity burning in the bond between them at her sudden embarrassment. “What is it, dove?”
“I think I like the thing with your fingers more.”
Lucien beamed at her, his own cheeks flaring to life with a brilliant shade of red to match his hair. “Come on, let’s clean ourselves up. We have a dinner to attend to.”
Elain allowed Lucien to pull her up and when she came to stand on her toes, Lucien took her into a very deep, very long kiss in which he poured an unyielding love and appreciation for her.
“If I have lived for anything in this life,” Lucien said when the kiss broke, “it has been you.”
Elain stared up into Lucien’s eyes, enjoying the way the deep browns of his remaining good eye grounded her to the earth, the little flecks of red and gold behind it sparking a fire in her soul. She ran her fingers gently over his brow and pressed her forehead to him, just enjoying the simple pleasure of feeling that tether between them, connecting them together for life and what lie beyond the shadows of death.
A slow, sweet smile slid firmly into place on Elain’s face and all that horrible tension Lucien had carried that day dissipated. She was well pleased for it.
Beyond Lucien’s shoulder, the sun was setting off the balcony on the beautiful starry city of Velaris - their home for now until the winds and wild carried them elsewhere. Below the House of Wind, their family waited and when the sun had finished setting, they set out for a night of celebration together.
Friends.
Family.
And mates.
xx