Fox and Fawn

solstice night

lucien

solstice night

"Trust your heart if the seas catch fire, live by love though the stars walk backward."

- E.E. Cummings

Mr. Brightside - The Killers

  Rhysand had been more than kind to Lucien. Likely aware of the conversations he had held with Feyre and Elain, the High Lord had offered Lucien a room in the town house rather than in the river house. Lucien had gladly accepted, rejoicing in the fact that he would be able to sulk in private. To no longer have to pretend he was happy to break his bond with Elain. Although, he did find himself relieved. Maybe even excited.

  No, not excited.

  Optimistic. A word he hadn't used to describe himself in ages.

  For the first time in a long time, Lucien would not know the burden of being bound to unrequited love. He would be free to move on, and not have to fret about Elain finding another male and it driving him mad. He would be able to openly seek affection once more. An option he hadn't realized he'd wanted until it had been taken from him by the mating bond.

  So, no. Lucien did not mourn the loss of the bond. Not really.

  Truthfully, he'd never wanted one after Jesminda. And Elain, she clearly had little interest in the bond as well. They'd tried. They'd pushed the limits of their pleasantries since their encounter with Tamlin. Since Elain had barged into a High Lord meeting between the Night and Spring Court then promptly struck its High Lord for his actions Under the Mountain. For whipping Lucien.

  "You deserve better," she had said to him.

  And he shut his eyes against the memory. Because it had given him hope. Just like their shared moment beneath the dogwood tree when he'd healed her broken fingers. Or when he'd made her laugh. Or when they'd discussed the bond and its intricacies in depth. It had been an afternoon of milestones.

  But in the end nothing more than amiability had come from it. A warm sort of tolerance that Elain seemed to feel. Nothing like what Feyre had with Rhysand. Or Cassian with the eldest Archeron. Or even that brooding shadowsinger and his newfound mate, the perky ginger priestess.

  Gwyn, Lucien reminded himself.

  She had been too kind to Lucien for him to not bother and remember her name.

  Lucien stared out the window at the soft glowing lights of Velaris, snow falling gently from the midnight sky. He took a slow and savoring sip of his wine. It had been a long time since Lucien had drank alone and he didn't dwell on how pathetic it was to be doing so on Solstice.

  If the wine wasn't so exquisite, Lucien thought, this would be truly sad.

  Yes. The wine was good and the town house was tasteful and tomorrow, Lucien's heart would know peace once more.

  And perhaps he could seek out what he'd desired for so long, but would never dare say aloud. Love. A place to belong. To recapture that feeling Jesminda had given him and bask in it unabashedly till the end of his days. Fiery passion. Someone to care for. A person to belong with. Simple, silly things that his brothers and father would no doubt balk at. Things that he resigned himself to living without only to realize that he wanted them. Desperately.

  Pathetic.

  He retreated from the window to sit on the sofa before the roaring fire.

  Eventually he stopped refilling his glass and began to drink from the bottle.