Twenty Lashes

lucien - pt. ii

People change and forget to tell each other.

- Lillian Hellman

I Can't Help Falling in Love with You -- Elvis Presley

He should have let her walk away from him. He should have remained in the corridor. But her words kept replaying in his mind as she strode down the steps and out the front doors.

" You deserve better, " she had said.

Lucien asked himself when the last time was that someone had ever considered what he deserved. For the life of him, he couldn't recall the last person, the last instance, where someone had taken his side. Where someone had stood up for him.

He supposed Feyre had, Under the Mountain... Vassa and Jurian would likely advocate for him if given the chance.

But Elain — his reluctant mate — today she'd actively taken his side. Immediately upon being provided with the opportunity.

Lucien's legs suddenly became restless. And before he knew it, he had started down the stairs and was exiting the manor out the front double doors. On the lawn he found that Elain was making a bee-line for the stone bench that sat beneath a dogwood tree.

He nearly chuckled when she plunked herself down unceremoniously.

But the idea of laughter died when he saw that she was frowning, cradling her hand in her lap. He didn't need the mating bond to understand that she was in pain.

Lucien hastened his steps to join her. That right hook she had thrown was piss poor. Her fist had been balled up tight, thumb tucked in. She had probably jammed her fingers. And that second punch to Tamlin's shoulder certainly hadn't done her any favors.

Lucien closed the distance between them with extreme caution. He felt like he was approaching an easily startled deer.

He wanted her to know that he held her to no promises. He was not taking her display of defiance on his behalf as consent. That his only intention was to help. He expected nothing in return.

Lucien gestured to the empty space beside her on the bench. "May I?"

Elain didn't look up from her already bruising knuckles, but nodded in response.

Lucien fluidly sat beside her, taking a deep, steadying breath before speaking again. "I can fix that. Your hand."

She froze. Lucien cursed himself.

He was searching his mind for an excuse to leave when Elain slowly offered him her hand. It lingered there for a moment, hovering in mid air. All Lucien could do was stare at it.

But the soft voice of the mating bond returned to him for the first time in a very long time, and urged Lucien to act.

Willing himself not to tremble, Lucien gently took Elain's hand.

It was warm and soft. It reminded him of her eyes.

He held her fingers in both his hands, lips twisting as he ran a thumb across her knuckles.

"Is it... bad?" Elain asked. "It does hurt. But it doesn't feel like I broke anything."

"Can you try and move your little finger for me?"

Elain swallowed then hissed as her pinky gave the smallest of movements.

"That's what I thought," he murmured. "It's a fairly common injury. Usually seen in drunken brawls."

"I confess myself inexperienced with such injuries."

Lucien chuckled at her quiet humor.

Her cheeks pink, Elain pressed, "I'm assuming it's not so grave an injury."