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"Lucien." Elain whispered, worry etched on her tone.
It was a late night, the inner circle was chatting carelessly, too distracted with each other, to notice Elain shifting closer to the male, concern darkening her features. She barely got a grunt of acknowledgment as answer.
Lucien had just come back from a travel to the Spring Court on Rhysand's request, and while Elain had noticed his odd behavior, she had expected it to wear off as the night passed - Tamlin was a delicate subject to Lucien, that she had been aware of for longer than they had been friends, before ever becoming more.
Then it didn't.
And, only for her distress, he had been blocking her prodding through the bond. Not fully block, he never did such thing and neither did she, but he was keeping walls up to what she wanted to know, and he wouldn't actually talk to her either.
Yes, she's had enough. "Lucien." She hissed again, with more insistence.
The male shifted on his seat, finally giving in to his mate's prodding, meeting her eyes with a forced light expression, betrayed by the whirling sound of his gold eye.
"Yes, Elain?"
That was it. Her frown deepened as she decidedly stood up, swiftly turning to the others, while her hands found a firm grip on Lucien's arm, pulling him with her.
"We're calling it in for the night." She smiled lightly at her sisters while she pushed Lucien to the stairs, to which he didn't offer resistance - good for him, Elain would drag him anyway.
A chorus of "good night"s in playful suggestive tones followed them out, as they moved together to their bedroom.
Technically, it was Elain's. Lucien did have a room for himself, but after the male had confessed, on a lazy afternoon, how much he enjoyed how her scent was all over the room, with a oh so rare completely happy and relaxed expression, Elain made a point to always either invite or drag him to hers.
Lucien was eerily quiet as they moved and Elain did not indulge in conversation either. As she shut the door behind them and turned to the taller fae, crossing her arms, she was hit with a wave of anxiety through the bond, and suddenly her resolve to be frustrated at her mate wavered considerably. She was fairly sure he hadn't even meant to let it slip.
She could hear the light frantic whirling sound from his made eye, which she had grown to recognize as a sign of agitation from him. Her resolve broke as her heart. She hated to see him anxious, least of all around her. She's had enough of it for her whole life in their first years.
Lucien was all tension again as he started, in a weak tone, "Elain-"
Her movements cut him off as she crossed the space between them, letting her arms rest around his waist, the closest she could reach without getting on her tip toes, her forehead naturally finding place on his chest.
The change was practically immediate as his posture relaxed, melting, as he let his own arms wrap around her, a soft noise leaving his throat as he took in her scent. They let themselves stay quiet, savoring the simple moment of being with each other, for a while.
It was Lucien who broke the silence.
"I'm sorry." He whispers, and Elain hums against his chest, not moving, not talking, as much as she wanted to tell him he didn't need to apologize. That she just wanted to know what was hurting him. She lets the sentiment slip through the tether between them anyway.
She knows he felt it when his arms tighten around her.
Carefully, she starts maneuvering them to the bed, where she pushes the male lightly to the mattress, so that he now has to look up at her, sitting, as she stands between his thighs, arms now moving to rest on his shoulders. He smells like sunlight, like fire and something sweeter, like cinnamon. It brings a smile to her face and calms her in a way few things do.
Elain leans in, resting her forehead against his, letting herself nudge him lightly. Lucien's mismatched eyes have closed, and for the first time since he arrived, he looks completely relaxed. She thinks it might be the mating bond that makes her so happy for being able to make him feel better, but if she's being honest, now she feels like she would end up wrapped around him regardless of it.
Her eyes trace the scar crossing his eye, as she finds her fingers doing the same. It's quite striking, she muses, that he sports such otherworldly beauty, even with so many scars - healed or not. His breath shudders, and russet and gold find her own eyes in the low light. Beautiful, her mate was stupidly beautiful with a dilated pupil and a perfectly still golden one gazing at her like that, like she hang the stars in the sky for him. And still she spotted something hurt behind them.
"I'm going to kill him." Elain states solemnly, a barely suppressed growl in her voice. Not that she minds. She's been what she is now for long enough to get used to it.
It startles a laugh out of Lucien. "Oh dear, please don't." His fingers are trailing warm paths on her hips and she smiles, but it's sharp and full of teeth. "I will." She assures. Lucien's smile is full of mirth and fondness.
He feels her hands threading through his hair, finding the leather band holding it up, and pulling it loose. She always preferred his hair down, so she could brush her fingers through the russet strands, braid them with flowers as she wishes. Elain's lips are still pulled in a small smile, but her voice is serious as she says "I'm talking to Rhysand and Feyre. You're not going there again. Not alone, at least."
He's vaguely aware she's making a small braid behind his ear when he leans in, his forehead resting on his mate's neck. "It's supposed to be my job, darling." He starts. His teeth graze or the delicate skin on her neck, and she does not get distracted by it in the slightest.
"Not when you come back wounded every Caldron damned time." She hisses. She tugs his hair softly to stop his fangs from grazing at her pulse again.
Lucien sighs, but he knows better than arguing. Not when he hasn't seen his mate in far too long for their recently accepted bond. Not when her hands are on him and her smell is all around, softening him. Not when he could kiss Elain because he had fallen in love with this incredible female who would fight more than one High Lord for him, for whatever reason. She had fallen for him too.
It's still new for him. Having someone just caring for him like that. But as her lips find his, as the room gets warmer, and he doesn't know if it is his fire or if it is them, he doesn't find it hard to let himself love and be loved like that.